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The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night — Volume 01 (of 10)

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Title: The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night — Volume 01 (of 10)

Translator: Sir Richard Francis Burton


        
Release date: September 1, 2002 [eBook #3435]
                Most recently updated: January 8, 2021

Language: English

Original publication: The Burton Club, 1885

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/3435

Credits: J.C. Byers. Proofreaders were: J.C. Byers, Norm Wolcott, Dianne Doefler and Charles Wilson


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOOK OF THE THOUSAND NIGHTS AND A NIGHT — VOLUME 01 (OF 10) ***




THE BOOK OF THE
THOUSAND NIGHTS AND A NIGHT

A Plain and Literal Translation
of the Arabian Nights Entertainments

Translated and Annotated by
 Richard F. Burton 




VOLUME ONE


Inscribed to the Memory
of
My Lamented Friend
John Frederick Steinhaeuser,
(Civil Surgeon, Aden)
who
A Quarter of a Century Ago
Assisted Me in this Translation.


“TO THE PURE ALL THINGS ARE PURE”
(Puris omnia pura)

—_Arab Proverb._

“Niuna corrotta mente intese mai sanamente parole.”

—“_Decameron_”—_conclusion_.

“Erubuit, posuitque meum Lucretia librum
Sed coram Bruto. Brute! recede, leget.”

—MARTIAL.

“Mieulx est de ris que de larmes escripre,
Pour ce que rire est le propre des hommes.”

—RABELAIS.

“The pleasure we derive from perusing the Thousand-and-One Stories
makes us regret that we possess only a comparatively small part of
these truly enchanting fictions.”

—CRICHTON’S “_History of Arabia_.”


Contents of the First Volume

 Introduction
 Story Of King Shahryar and His Brother
 a. Tale of the Bull and the Ass
 1. Tale of the Trader and the Jinni
 a. The First Shaykh’s Story
 b. The Second Shaykh’s Story
 c. The Third Shaykh’s Story
 2. The Fisherman and the Jinni
 a. Tale of the Wazir and the Sage Duban
 ab. Story of King Sindibad and His Falcon
 ac. Tale of the Husband and the Parrot
 ad. Tale of the Prince and the Ogress
 b. Tale of the Ensorcelled Prince
 3. The Porter and the Three Ladies of Baghdad
 a. The First Kalandar’s Tale
 b. The Second Kalandar’s Tale
 ba. Tale of the Envier and the Envied
 c. The Third Kalandar’s Tale
 d. The Eldest Lady’s Tale
 e. Tale of the Portress
 Conclusion of the Story of the Porter and the Three Ladies
 4. Tale of the Three Apples
 5. Tale of Nur Al-din Ali and his Son
 6. The Hunchback’s Tale
 a. The Nazarene Broker’s Story
 b. The Reeve’s Tale
 c. Tale of the Jewish Doctor
 d. Tale of the Tailor
 e. The Barber’s Tale of Himself
 ea. The Barber’s Tale of his First Brother
 eb. The Barber’s Tale of his Second Brother
 ec. The Barber’s Tale of his Third Brother
 ed. The Barber’s Tale of his Fourth Brother
 ee. The Barber’s Tale of his Fifth Brother
 ef. The Barber’s Tale of his Sixth Brother
 The End of the Tailor’s Tale




The Translator’s Foreword.


This work, labourious as it may appear, has been to me a labour of
love, an unfailing source of solace and satisfaction. During my long
years of official banishment to the luxuriant and deadly deserts of
Western Africa, and to the dull and dreary half clearings of South
America, it proved itself a charm, a talisman against ennui and
despondency. Impossible even to open the pages without a vision
starting into view; with out drawing a picture from the pinacothek of
the brain; without reviving a host of memories and reminiscences which
are not the common property of travellers, however widely they may have
travelled. From my dull and commonplace and "respectable" surroundings,
the Jinn bore me at once to the land of my pre-dilection, Arabia, a
region so familiar to my mind that even at first sight, it seemed a
reminiscence of some by gone metem-psychic life in the distant Past.
Again I stood under the diaphanous skies, in air glorious as aether,
whose every breath raises men's spirits like sparkling wine. Once more
I saw the evening star hanging like a solitaire from the pure front of
the western firmament; and the after glow transfiguring and
transforming, as by magic, the homely and rugged features of the scene
into a fairy land lit with a light which never shines on other soils or
seas. Then would appear the woollen tents, low and black, of the true
Badawin, mere dots in the boundless waste of lion tawny clays and
gazelle brown gravels, and the camp fire dotting like a glow worm the
village centre. Presently, sweetened by distance, would be heard the
wild weird song of lads and lasses, driving or rather pelting, through
the gloaming their sheep and goats; and the measured chant of the
spearsmen gravely stalking behind their charge, the camels; mingled
with bleating of the flocks and the bellowing of the humpy herds; while
the reremouse flitted overhead with his tiny shriek, and the rave of
the jackal resounded through deepening glooms, and—most musical of
music—the palm trees answered the whispers of the night breeze with the
softest tones of falling water.

And then a shift of scene. The Shaykhs and "white beards" of the tribe
gravely take their places, sitting with outspread skirts like hillocks
on the plain, as the Arabs say, around the camp fire, whilst I reward
their hospitality and secure its continuance by reading or reciting a
few pages of their favourite tales. The women and children stand
motionless as silhouettes outside the ring; and all are breathless with
attention; they seem to drink in the words with eyes and mouths as well
as with ears. The most fantastic flights of fancy, the wildest
improbabilities, the most impossible of impossibilities, appear to them
utterly natural, mere matters of every day occurrence. They enter
thoroughly into each phase of feeling touched upon by the author: they
take a personal pride in the chivalrous nature and knightly prowess of
Taj al-Mulúk; they are touched with tenderness by the self sacrificing
love of Azízah; their mouths water as they hear of heaps of untold gold
given away in largesse like clay; they chuckle with delight every time
a Kázi or a Fakír—a judge or a reverend—is scurvily entreated by some
Pantagruelist of the Wilderness; and, despite their normal solemnity
and impassibility, all roar with laughter, sometimes rolling upon the
ground till the reader's gravity is sorely tried, at the tales of the
garrulous Barber and of Ali and the Kurdish Sharper. To this
magnetising mood the sole exception is when a Badawi of superior
accomplishments, who sometimes says his prayers, ejaculates a startling
"Astagh-faru'llah"—I pray Allah's pardon!—for listening, not to
Carlyle's "downright lies," but to light mention of the sex whose name
is never heard amongst the nobility of the Desert.

Nor was it only in Arabia that the immortal Nights did me such notable
service: I found the wildlings of Somali land equally amenable to its
discipline; no one was deaf to the charm and the two women cooks of my
caravan, on its way to Harar, were in continently dubbed by my men
"Shahrazad" and "Dinazad."

It may be permitted me also to note that this translation is a natural
outcome of my Pilgrimage to Al-Medinah and Meccah. Arriving at Aden in
the (so called) winter of 1852, I put up with my old and dear friend,
Steinhaeuser, to whose memory this volume is inscribed; and, when
talking over Arabia and the Arabs, we at once came to the same
conclusion that, while the name of this wondrous treasury of Moslem
folk lore is familiar to almost every English child, no general reader
is aware of the valuables it contains, nor indeed will the door open to
any but Arabists. Before parting we agreed to "collaborate" and produce
a full, complete, unvarnished, uncastrated copy of the great original,
my friend taking the prose and I the metrical part; and we corresponded
upon the subject for years. But whilst I was in the Brazil,
Steinhaeuser died suddenly of apoplexy at Berne in Switzerland and,
after the fashion of Anglo India, his valuable MSS. left at Aden were
dispersed, and very little of his labours came into my hands.

Thus I was left alone to my work, which progressed fitfully amid a host
of obstructions. At length, in the spring of 1879, the tedious process
of copying began and the book commenced to take finished form. But,
during the winter of 1881-82, I saw in the literary journals a notice
of a new version by Mr. John Payne, well known to scholars for his
prowess in English verse, especially for his translation of "The Poems
of Master Francis Villon, of Paris." Being then engaged on an
expedition to the Gold Coast (for gold), which seemed likely to cover
some months, I wrote to the "Athenæum" (Nov. 13, 1881) and to Mr.
Payne, who was wholly unconscious that we were engaged on the same
work, and freely offered him precedence and possession of the field
till no longer wanted. He accepted my offer as frankly, and his
priority entailed another delay lasting till the spring of 1885. These
details will partly account for the lateness of my appearing, but there
is yet another cause. Professional ambition suggested that literary
labours, unpopular with the vulgar and the half educated, are not
likely to help a man up the ladder of promotion. But common sense
presently suggested to me that, professionally speaking, I was not a
success, and, at the same time, that I had no cause to be ashamed of my
failure. In our day, when we live under a despotism of the lower
"middle class" Philister who can pardon anything but superiority, the
prizes of competitive services are monopolized by certain "pets" of the
_Médiocratie_, and prime favourites of that jealous and potent
majority—the Mediocrities who know "no nonsense about merit." It is
hard for an outsider to realise how perfect is the monopoly of common
place, and to comprehend how fatal a stumbling stone that man sets in
the way of his own advancement who dares to think for himself, or who
knows more or who does more than the mob of gentlemen-employés who know
very little and who do even less.

Yet, however behindhand I may be, there is still ample room and verge
for an English version of the "Arabian Nights' Entertainments."

Our century of translations, popular and vernacular, from (Professor
Antoine) Galland's delightful abbreviation and adaptation (A.D. 1704),
in no wise represent the eastern original. The best and latest, the
Rev. Mr. Foster's, which is diffuse and verbose, and Mr. G. Moir
Bussey's, which is a re-correction, abound in gallicisms of style and
idiom; and one and all degrade a chef d'oeuvre of the highest
anthropological and ethnographical interest and importance to a mere
fairy book, a nice present for little boys.

After nearly a century had elapsed, Dr. Jonathan Scott (LL.D.
H.E.I.C.'s S., Persian Secretary to the G. G. Bengal; Oriental
Professor, etc., etc.), printed his "Tales, Anecdotes, and Letters,
translated from the Arabic and Persian," (Cadell and Davies, London,
A.D. 1800); and followed in 1811 with an edition of "The Arabian
Nights' Entertainments" from the MS. of Edward Wortley Montague (in 6
vols., small 8vo, London: Longmans, etc.). This work he (and he only)
describes as "Carefully revised and occasionally corrected from the
Arabic." The reading public did not wholly reject it, sundry texts were
founded upon the Scott version and it has been imperfectly reprinted (4
vole., 8vo, Nimmo and Bain, London, 1883). But most men, little recking
what a small portion of the original they were reading, satisfied
themselves with the Anglo French epitome and metaphrase. At length in
1838, Mr. Henry Torrens, B.A., Irishman, lawyer ("of the Inner Temple")
and Bengal Civilian, took a step in the right direction; and began to
translate, "The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night," (1 vol.,
8vo, Calcutta: W. Thacker and Co.) from the Arabic of the Ægyptian (!)
MS. edited by Mr. (afterwards Sir)William H. Macnaghten. The attempt,
or rather the intention, was highly creditable; the copy was carefully
moulded upon the model and offered the best example of the _verbatim et
literatim_ style. But the plucky author knew little of Arabic, and
least of what is most wanted, the dialect of Egypt and Syria. His prose
is so conscientious as to offer up spirit at the shrine of letter; and
his verse, always whimsical, has at times a manner of Hibernian whoop
which is comical when it should be pathetic. Lastly he printed only one
volume of a series which completed would have contained nine or ten.

That amiable and devoted Arabist, the late Edward William Lane does not
score a success in his "New Translation of the Tales of a Thousand and
One Nights" (London: Charles Knight and Co., MDCCCXXXIX.) of which
there have been four English editions, besides American, two edited by
E. S. Poole. He chose the abbreviating Bulak Edition; and, of its two
hundred tales, he has omitted about half and by far the more
characteristic half: the work was intended for "the drawing room
table;" and, consequently, the workman was compelled to avoid the
"objectionable" and aught "approaching to licentiousness." He converts
the Arabian Nights into the Arabian Chapters, arbitrarily changing the
division and, worse still, he converts some chapters into notes. He
renders poetry by prose and apologises for not omitting it altogether:
he neglects assonance and he is at once too Oriental and not Oriental
enough. He had small store of Arabic at the time—Lane of the Nights is
not Lane of the Dictionary—and his pages are disfigured by many
childish mistakes. Worst of all, the three handsome volumes are
rendered unreadable as Sale's Koran by their anglicised Latin, their
sesquipedalian un English words, and the stiff and stilted style of
half a century ago when our prose was, perhaps, the worst in Europe.
Their cargo of Moslem learning was most valuable to the student, but
utterly out of place for readers of "The Nights;" re-published, as
these notes have been separately (London, Chatto, 1883), they are an
ethnological text book.

Mr. John Payne has printed, for the Villon Society and for private
circulation only, the first and sole complete translation of the great
compendium, "comprising about four times as much matter as that of
Galland, and three times as much as that of any other translator;" and
I cannot but feel proud that he has honoured me with the dedication of
"The Book of The Thousand Nights and One Night." His version is most
readable: his English, with a sub-flavour of the Mabinogionic
archaicism, is admirable; and his style gives life and light to the
nine volumes whose matter is frequently heavy enough. He succeeds
admirably in the most difficult passages and he often hits upon choice
and special terms and the exact vernacular equivalent of the foreign
word, so happily and so picturesquely that all future translators must
perforce use the same expression under pain of falling far short. But
the learned and versatile author bound himself to issue only five
hundred copies, and "not to reproduce the work in its complete and
uncastrated form." Consequently his excellent version is caviaire to
the general—practically unprocurable.

And here I hasten to confess that ample use has been made of the three
versions above noted, the whole being blended by a _callida junctura_
into a homogeneous mass. But in the presence of so many predecessors a
writer is bound to show some _raison d'être_ for making a fresh attempt
and this I proceed to do with due reserve.

Briefly, the object of this version is to show what "The Thousand
Nights and a Night" really is. Not, however, for reasons to be more
fully stated in the Terminal Essay, by straining _verbum reddere
verbo_, but by writing as the Arab would have written in English. On
this point I am all with Saint Jerome (Pref. in Jobum) "Vel verbum e
verbo, vel sensum e sensu, vel ex utroque commixtum, et medie
temperatum genus translationis." My work claims to be a faithful copy
of the great Eastern Saga book, by preserving intact, not only the
spirit, but even the _mécanique_, the manner and the matter. Hence,
however prosy and long drawn out be the formula, it retains the scheme
of The Nights because they are a prime feature in the original. The
Ráwí or reciter, to whose wits the task of supplying details is left,
well knows their value: the openings carefully repeat the names of the
_dramatis personæ_ and thus fix them in the hearer's memory. Without
the Nights no Arabian Nights! Moreover it is necessary to retain the
whole apparatus: nothing more ill advised than Dr. Jonathan Scott's
strange device of garnishing The Nights with fancy head pieces and tail
pieces or the splitting up of Galland's narrative by merely prefixing
"Nuit," etc., ending moreover, with the ccxxxivth Night: yet this has
been done, apparently with the consent of the great Arabist Sylvestre
de Sacy (Paris, Ernest Bourdin). Moreover, holding that the
translator's glory is to add something to his native tongue, while
avoiding the hideous hag like nakedness of Torrens and the bald
literalism of Lane, I have carefully Englished the picturesque turns
and novel expressions of the original in all their outlandishness; for
instance, when the dust cloud raised by a tramping host is described as
"walling the horizon." Hence peculiar attention has been paid to the
tropes and figures which the Arabic language often packs into a single
term; and I have never hesitated to coin a word when wanted, such as
"she snorted and snarked," fully to represent the original. These, like
many in Rabelais, are mere barbarisms unless generally adopted; in
which case they become civilised and common currency.

Despite objections manifold and manifest, I have preserved the balance
of sentences and the prose rhyme and rhythm which Easterns look upon as
mere music. This "Saj'a," or cadence of the cooing dove, has in Arabic
its special duties. It adds a sparkle to description and a point to
proverb, epigram and dialogue; it corresponds with our "artful
alliteration" (which in places I have substituted for it) and,
generally, it defines the boundaries between the classical and the
popular styles which jostle each other in The Nights. If at times it
appear strained and forced, after the wont of rhymed prose, the scholar
will observe that, despite the immense copiousness of assonants and
consonants in Arabic, the strain is often put upon it intentionally,
like the _Rims cars_ of Dante and the Troubadours. This rhymed prose
may be "un English" and unpleasant, even irritating to the British ear;
still I look upon it as a _sine quâ non_ for a complete reproduction of
the original. In the Terminal Essay I shall revert to the subject.

On the other hand when treating the versical portion, which may
represent a total of ten thousand lines, I have not always bound myself
by the metrical bonds of the Arabic, which are artificial in the
extreme, and which in English can be made bearable only by a tour de
force. I allude especially to the monorhyme, _Rim continuat or tirade
monorime_, whose monotonous simplicity was preferred by the Troubadours
for threnodies. It may serve well for three or four couplets but, when
it extends, as in the Ghazal-canzon, to eighteen, and in the Kasidah,
elegy or ode, to more, it must either satisfy itself with banal rhyme
words, when the assonants should as a rule be expressive and emphatic;
or, it must display an ingenuity, a smell of the oil, which assuredly
does not add to the reader's pleasure. It can perhaps be done and it
should be done; but for me the task has no attractions: I can fence
better in shoes than in sabots. Finally I print the couplets in Arab
form separating the hemistichs by asterisks.

And now to consider one matter of special importance in the book—its
_turpiloquium_. This stumbling-block is of two kinds, completely
distinct. One is the simple, naïve and child like indecency which, from
Tangiers to Japan, occurs throughout general conversation of high and
low in the present day. It uses, like the holy books of the Hebrews,
expressions "plainly descriptive of natural situations;" and it treats
in an unconventionally free and naked manner of subjects and matters
which are usually, by common consent, left undescribed. As Sir William
Jones observed long ago, "that anything natural can be offensively
obscene never seems to have occurred to the Indians or to their
legislators; a singularity (?) pervading their writings and
conversation, but no proof of moral depravity." Another justly
observes, _Les peuples primitifs n'y entendent pas malice: ils
appellent les choses par leurs noms et ne trouvent pas condamnable ce
qui est naturel_. And they are prying as children. For instance the
European novelist marries off his hero and heroine and leaves them to
consummate marriage in privacy; even Tom Jones has the decency to bolt
the door. But the Eastern story teller, especially this unknown "prose
Shakespeare," must usher you, with a flourish, into the bridal chamber
and narrate to you, with infinite gusto, everything he sees and hears.
Again we must remember that grossness and indecency, in fact _les
turpitudes_, are matters of time and place; what is offensive in
England is not so in Egypt; what scandalises us now would have been a
tame joke _tempore Elisæ_. Withal The Nights will not be found in this
matter coarser than many passages of Shakespeare, Sterne, and Swift,
and their uncleanness rarely attains the perfection of Alcofribas
Nasier, "divin maître et atroce cochon." The other element is absolute
obscenity, sometimes, but not always, tempered by wit, humour and
drollery; here we have an exaggeration of Petronius Arbiter, the
handiwork of writers whose ancestry, the most religious and the most
debauched of mankind, practised every abomination before the shrine of
the Canopic Gods.

In accordance with my purpose of reproducing the Nights, not
_virginibus puerisque_, but in as perfect a picture as my powers
permit, I have carefully sought out the English equivalent of every
Arabic word, however low it may be or "shocking" to ears polite;
preserving, on the other hand, all possible delicacy where the
indecency is not intentional; and, as a friend advises me to state, not
exaggerating the vulgarities and the indecencies which, indeed, can
hardly be exaggerated. For the coarseness and crassness are but the
shades of a picture which would otherwise be all lights. The general
tone of The Nights is exceptionally high and pure. The devotional
fervour often rises to the boiling point of fanaticism. The pathos is
sweet, deep and genuine; tender, simple and true, utterly unlike much
of our modern tinsel. Its life, strong, splendid and multitudinous, is
everywhere flavoured with that unaffected pessimism and constitutional
melancholy which strike deepest root under the brightest skies and
which sigh in the face of heaven:—

Vita quid est hominis? Viridis floriscula mortis;
Sole Oriente oriens, sole cadente cadens.


Poetical justice is administered by the literary Kází with exemplary
impartiality and severity; "denouncing evil doers and eulogising deeds
admirably achieved." The morale is sound and healthy; and at times we
descry, through the voluptuous and libertine picture, vistas of a
transcendental morality, the morality of Socrates in Plato. Subtle
corruption and covert licentiousness are utterly absent; we find more
real"vice" in many a short French roman, say La Dame aux Camélias, and
in not a few English novels of our day than in the thousands of pages
of the Arab. Here we have nothing of that most immodest modern modesty
which sees covert implication where nothing is implied, and "improper"
allusion when propriety is not outraged; nor do we meet with the
Nineteenth Century refinement; innocence of the word not of the
thought; morality of the tongue not of the heart, and the sincere
homage paid to virtue in guise of perfect hypocrisy. It is, indeed,
this unique contrast of a quaint element, childish crudities and
nursery indecencies and "vain and amatorious" phrase jostling the
finest and highest views of life and character, shown in the
kaleidoscopic shiftings of the marvellous picture with many a "rich
truth in a tale's pretence", pointed by a rough dry humour which
compares well with "wut; "the alternations of strength and weakness, of
pathos and bathos, of the boldest poetry (the diction of Job) and the
baldest prose (the Egyptian of today); the contact of religion and
morality with the orgies of African Apuleius and Petronius Arbiter—at
times taking away the reader's breath—and, finally, the whole dominated
everywhere by that marvellous Oriental fancy, wherein the spiritual and
the supernatural are as common as the material and the natural; it is
this contrast, I say, which forms the chiefest charm of The Nights,
which gives it the most striking originality and which makes it a
perfect expositor of the medieval Moslem mind.

Explanatory notes did not enter into Mr. Payne's plan. They do with
mine: I can hardly imagine The Nights being read to any profit by men
of the West without commentary. My annotations avoid only one subject,
parallels of European folklore and fabliaux which, however interesting,
would overswell the bulk of a book whose speciality is anthropology.
The accidents of my life, it may be said without undue presumption, my
long dealings with Arabs and other Mahommedans, and my familiarity not
only with their idiom but with their turn of thought, and with that
racial individuality which baffles description, have given me certain
advantages over the average student, however deeply he may have
studied. These volumes, moreover, afford me a long sought opportunity
of noticing practices and customs which interest all mankind and which
"Society" will not hear mentioned. Grote, the historian, and Thackeray,
the novelist, both lamented that the bégueulerie of their countrymen
condemned them to keep silence where publicity was required; and that
they could not even claim the partial licence of a Fielding and a
Smollett. Hence a score of years ago I lent my best help to the late
Dr. James Hunt in founding the Anthropological Society, whose
presidential chair I first occupied (pp. 2-4 Anthropologia; London,
Balliere, vol. i., No. I, 1873). My motive was to supply travellers
with an organ which would rescue their observations from the outer
darkness of manuscript, and print their curious information on social
and sexual matters out of place in the popular book intended for the
Nipptisch and indeed better kept from public view. But, hardly had we
begun when "Respectability," that whited sepulchre full of all
uncleanness, rose up against us. "Propriety" cried us down with her
brazen blatant voice, and the weak kneed brethren fell away. Yet the
organ was much wanted and is wanted still. All now known barbarous
tribes in Inner Africa, America and Australia, whose instincts have not
been overlaid by reason, have a ceremony which they call "making men."
As soon as the boy shows proofs of puberty, he and his coevals are
taken in hand by the mediciner and the Fetisheer; and, under priestly
tuition, they spend months in the "bush," enduring hardships and
tortures which impress the memory till they have mastered the "theorick
and practick" of social and sexual relations. Amongst the civilised
this fruit of the knowledge tree must be bought at the price of the
bitterest experience, and the consequences of ignorance are peculiarly
cruel. Here, then, I find at last an opportunity of noticing in
explanatory notes many details of the text which would escape the
reader's observation, and I am confident that they will form a
repertory of Eastern knowledge in its esoteric phase. The student who
adds the notes of Lane ("Arabian Society," etc., before quoted) to mine
will know as much of the Moslem East and more than many Europeans who
have spent half their lives in Orient lands. For facility of reference
an index of anthropological notes is appended to each volume.

The reader will kindly bear with the following technical details.
Steinhaeuser and I began and ended our work with the first Bulak
("Bul.") Edition printed at the port of Cairo in A.H. 1251 = A.D. 1835.
But when preparing my MSS. for print I found the text incomplete, many
of the stories being given in epitome and not a few ruthlessly
mutilated with head or feet wanting. Like most Eastern scribes the
Editor could not refrain from "improvements," which only debased the
book; and his sole title to excuse is that the second Bulak Edition (4
vols. A.H. 1279 = A.D. 1863), despite its being "revised and corrected
by Sheik Mahommed Qotch Al-Adewi," is even worse; and the same may be
said of the Cairo Edit. (4 vols. A.H. 1297 = A. D. 1881). The Calcutta
("Calc.") Edition, with ten lines of Persian preface by the Editor,
Ahmed al-Shirwani (A.D. 1814), was cut short at the end of the first
two hundred Nights, and thus made room for Sir William Hay Macnaghten's
Edition (4 vols. royal 4to) of 1839-42. This ("Mac."), as by far the
least corrupt and the most complete, has been assumed for my basis with
occasional reference to the Breslau Edition ("Bres.") wretchedly edited
from a hideous Egyptian MS. by Dr. Maximilian Habicht (1825-43). The
Bayrut Text "Alif-Leila we Leila" (4 vols. gt. 8vo, Beirut, 1881-83) is
a melancholy specimen of The Nights taken entirely from the Bulak
Edition by one Khalil Sarkis and converted to Christianity; beginning
without Bismillah, continued with scrupulous castration and ending in
ennui and disappointment. I have not used this missionary production.

As regards the transliteration of Arabic words I deliberately reject
the artful and complicated system, ugly and clumsy withal, affected by
scientific modern Orientalists. Nor is my sympathy with their prime
object, namely to fit the Roman alphabet for supplanting all others.
Those who learn languages, and many do so, by the eye as well as by the
ear, well know the advantages of a special character to distinguish,
for instance, Syriac from Arabic, Gujrati from Marathi. Again this
Roman hand bewitched may have its use in purely scientific and literary
works; but it would be wholly out of place in one whose purpose is that
of the novel, to amuse rather than to instruct. Moreover the devices
perplex the simple and teach nothing to the learned. Either the reader
knows Arabic, in which case Greek letters, italics and "upper case,"
diacritical points and similar typographic oddities are, as a rule with
some exceptions, unnecessary; or he does not know Arabic, when none of
these expedients will be of the least use to him. Indeed it is a matter
of secondary consideration what system we prefer, provided that we
mostly adhere to one and the same, for the sake of a consistency which
saves confusion to the reader. I have especially avoided that of Mr.
Lane, adopted by Mr. Payne, for special reasons against which it was
vain to protest: it represents the debased brogue of Egypt or rather of
Cairo; and such a word as Kemer (ez-Zeman) would be utterly
un-pronounceable to a Badawi. Nor have I followed the practice of my
learned friend, Reverend G. P. Badger, in mixing bars and acute
accents; the former unpleasantly remind man of those hateful dactyls
and spondees, and the latter should, in my humble opinion, be applied
to long vowels which in Arabic double, or should double, the length of
the shorts. Dr. Badger uses the acute symbol to denote accent or stress
of voice; but such appoggio is unknown to those who speak with purest
articulation; for instance whilst the European pronounces Mus-cat', and
the Arab villager Mas′-kat; the Children of the Waste, "on whose
tongues Allah descended," articulate Mas-kat. I have therefore followed
the simple system adopted in my "Pilgrimage," and have accented Arabic
words only when first used, thinking it unnecessary to preserve
throughout what is an eyesore to the reader and a distress to the
printer. In the main I follow "Johnson on Richardson," a work known to
every Anglo-Orientalist as the old and trusty companion of his studies
early and late; but even here I have made sundry deviations for reasons
which will be explained in the Terminal Essay. As words are the
embodiment of ideas and writing is of words, so the word is the spoken
word; and we should write it as pronounced. Strictly speaking, the
e-sound and the o-sound (viz. the Italian o-sound not the English which
is peculiar to us and unknown to any other tongue) are not found in
Arabic, except when the figure Imálah obliges: hence they are called
"Yá al-Majhúl" and "Waw al-Majhúl" the unknown y (í) and u. But in all
tongues vowel-sounds, the flesh which clothes the bones (consonants) of
language, are affected by the consonants which precede and more
especially which follow them, hardening and softening the articulation;
and deeper sounds accompany certain letters as the sád ( ) compared
with the sín ( ). None save a defective ear would hold, as Lane does,
"Maulid" ( = birth-festival) "more properly pronounced 'Molid.'" Yet I
prefer Khokh (peach) and Jokh (broad cloth) to Khukh and Jukh; Ohod
(mount) to Uhud; Obayd (a little slave) to Ubayd; and Hosayn (a
fortlet, not the P. N. Al-Husayn) to Husayn. As for the short e in such
words as "Memlúk" for "Mamluk" (a white slave), "Eshe" for "Asha"
(supper), and "Yemen" for "Al-Yaman," I consider it a flat Egyptianism,
insufferable to an ear which admires the Badawi pronunciation. Yet I
prefer "Shelebi" (a dandy) from the Turkish Chelebi, to "Shalabi;"
"Zebdani" (the Syrian village) to "Zabdani," and "Fes and Miknes" (by
the figure Imálah) to "Fas and Miknás,", our "Fez and Mequinez."

With respect to proper names and untranslated Arabic words I have
rejected all system in favour of common sense. When a term is
incorporated in our tongue, I refuse to follow the purist and mortify
the reader by startling innovation. For instance, Aleppo, Cairo and
Bassorah are preferred to Halab, Kahirah and Al-Basrah; when a word is
half naturalised, like Alcoran or Koran, Bashaw or Pasha, which the
French write Pacha; and Mahomet or Mohammed (for Muhammad), the modern
form is adopted because the more familiar. But I see no advantage in
retaining,, simply because they are the mistakes of a past generation,
such words as "Roc" (for Rukh),), Khalif (a pretentious blunder for
Khalífah and better written Caliph) and "genie" ( = Jinn) a mere Gallic
corruption not so terrible, however, as "a Bedouin" ( = Badawi).). As
little too would I follow Mr. Lane in foisting upon the public such
Arabisms as "Khuff" (a riding boot), "Mikra'ah" (a palm rod) and a host
of others for which we have good English equivalents. On the other hand
I would use, but use sparingly, certain Arabic exclamations, as
"Bismillah" ( = in the name of Allah!) and "Inshallah" ( = if Allah
please!), (= which have special applications and which have been made
familiar to English ears by the genius of Fraser and Morier.

I here end these desultory but necessary details to address the reader
in a few final words. He will not think lightly of my work when I
repeat to him that with the aid of my annotations supplementing Lane's,
the student will readily and pleasantly learn more of the Moslem's
manners and customs, laws and religion than is known to the average
Orientalist; and, if my labours induce him to attack the text of The
Nights he will become master of much more Arabic than the ordinary Arab
owns. This book is indeed a legacy which I bequeath to my fellow
countrymen in their hour of need. Over devotion to Hindu, and
especially to Sanskrit literature, has led them astray from those (so
called) "Semitic" studies, which are the more requisite for us as they
teach us to deal successfully with a race more powerful than any
pagans—the Moslem. Apparently England is ever forgetting that she is at
present the greatest Mohammedan empire in the world. Of late years she
has systematically neglected Arabism and, indeed, actively discouraged
it in examinations for the Indian Civil Service, where it is
incomparably more valuable than Greek and Latin. Hence, when suddenly
compelled to assume the reins of government in Moslem lands, as
Afghanistan in times past and Egypt at present, she fails after a
fashion which scandalises her few (very few) friends; and her crass
ignorance concerning the Oriental peoples which should most interest
her, exposes her to the contempt of Europe as well as of the Eastern
world. When the regrettable raids of 1883-84, culminating in the
miserable affairs of Tokar, Teb and Tamasi, were made upon the gallant
Sudani negroids, the Bisharin outlying Sawakin, who were battling for
the holy cause of liberty and religion and for escape from Turkish
task-masters and Egyptian tax-gatherers, not an English official in
camp, after the death of the gallant and lamented Major Morice, was
capable of speaking Arabic. Now Moslems are not to be ruled by raw
youths who should be at school and college instead of holding positions
of trust and emolument. He who would deal with them successfully must
be, firstly, honest and truthful and, secondly, familiar with and
favourably inclined to their manners and customs if not to their law
and religion. We may, perhaps, find it hard to restore to England those
pristine virtues, that tone and temper, which made her what she is; but
at any rate we (myself and a host of others) can offer her the means of
dispelling her ignorance concerning the Eastern races with whom she is
continually in contact.

In conclusion I must not forget to notice that the Arabic
ornamentations of these volumes were designed by my excellent friend
Yacoub Artin Pasha, of the Ministry of Instruction, Cairo, with the aid
of the well-known writing artist, Shaykh Mohammed Muunis the Cairene.
My name, Al-Hajj Abdullah ( = the Pilgrim Abdallah) was written by an
English calligrapher, the lamented Professor Palmer who found a
premature death almost within sight of Suez.

RICHARD F. BURTON

Wanderers’ Club, _August_ 15, 1885.




The Book Of The
THOUSAND NIGHTS AND A NIGHT

(ALF LAYLAH WA LAYLAH.)

In the Name of Allah,
the Compassionating, the Compassionate!

PRAISE BE TO ALLAH * THE BENEFICENT KING * THE CREATOR OF THE UNIVERSE
* LORD OF THE THREE WORLDS * WHO SET UP THE FIRMAMENT WITHOUT PILLARS
IN ITS STEAD * AND WHO STRETCHED OUT THE EARTH EVEN AS A BED * AND
GRACE, AND PRAYER-BLESSING BE UPON OUR LORD MOHAMMED * LORD OF
APOSTOLIC MEN * AND UPON HIS FAMILY AND COMPANION TRAIN * PRAYER AND
BLESSINGS ENDURING AND GRACE WHICH UNTO THE DAY OF DOOM SHALL REMAIN *
AMEN! * O THOU OF THE THREE WORLDS SOVEREIGN!


And afterwards. Verily the works and words of those gone before us have
become instances and examples to men of our modern day, that folk may
view what admonishing chances befel other folk and may therefrom take
warning; and that they may peruse the annals of antique peoples and all
that hath betided them, and be thereby ruled and restrained:—Praise,
therefore, be to Him who hath made the histories of the Past an
admonition unto the Present! Now of such instances are the tales called
"A Thousand Nights and a Night," together with their far famed legends
and wonders. Therein it is related (but Allah is All knowing of His
hidden things and All ruling and All honoured and All giving and All
gracious and All merciful [FN#1]) that, in tide of yore and in time
long gone before, there was a King of the Kings of the Banu Sásán in
the Islands of India and China, a Lord of armies and guards and
servants and dependents.[FN#2] He left only two sons, one in the prime
of manhood and the other yet a youth, while both were Knights and
Braves, albeit the elder was a doughtier horseman than the younger. So
he succeeded to the empire; when he ruled the land and lorded it over
his lieges with justice so exemplary that he was beloved by all the
peoples of his capital and of his kingdom. His name was King
Shahryár[FN#3], and he made his younger brother, Shah Zamán hight, King
of Samarcand in Barbarian land. These two ceased not to abide in their
several realms and the law was ever carried out in their dominions; and
each ruled his own kingdom, with equity and fair dealing to his
subjects, in extreme solace and enjoyment; and this condition
continually endured for a score of years. But at the end of the
twentieth twelvemonth the elder King yearned for a sight of his younger
brother and felt that he must look upon him once more. So he took
counsel with his Wazír[FN#4] about visiting him, but the Minister,
finding the project unadvisable, recommended that a letter be written
and a present be sent under his charge to the younger brother with an
invitation to visit the elder. Having accepted this advice the King
forthwith bade prepare handsome gifts, such as horses with saddles of
gem encrusted gold; Mamelukes, or white slaves; beautiful handmaids,
high breasted virgins, and splendid stuffs and costly. He then wrote a
letter to Shah Zaman expressing his warm love and great wish to see
him, ending with these words, "We therefore hope of the favour and
affection of the beloved brother that he will condescend to bestir
himself and turn his face us wards. Furthermore we have sent our Wazir
to make all ordinance for the march, and our one and only desire is to
see thee ere we die; but if thou delay or disappoint us we shall not
survive the blow. Wherewith peace be upon thee!" Then King Shahryar,
having sealed the missive and given it to the Wazir with the offerings
aforementioned, commanded him to shorten his skirts and strain his
strength and make all expedition in going and returning. "Harkening and
obedience!" quoth the Minister, who fell to making ready without stay
and packed up his loads and prepared all his requisites without delay.
This occupied him three days, and on the dawn of the fourth he took
leave of his King and marched right away, over desert and hill' way,
stony waste and pleasant lea without halting by night or by day. But
whenever he entered a realm whose ruler was subject to his Suzerain,
where he was greeted with magnificent gifts of gold and silver and all
manner of presents fair and rare, he would tarry there three
days,[FN#5] the term of the guest rite; and, when he left on the
fourth, he would be honourably escorted for a whole day's march. As
soon as the Wazir drew near Shah Zaman's court in Samarcand he
despatched to report his arrival one of his high officials, who
presented himself before the King; and, kissing ground between his
hands, delivered his message. Hereupon the King commanded sundry of his
Grandees and Lords of his realm to fare forth and meet his brother's
Wazir at the distance of a full day's journey; which they did, greeting
him respectfully and wishing him all prosperity and forming an escort
and a procession. When he entered the city he proceeded straightway to
the palace, where he presented himself in the royal presence; and,
after kissing ground and praying for the King's health and happiness
and for victory over all his enemies, he informed him that his brother
was yearning to see him, and prayed for the pleasure of a visit. He
then delivered the letter which Shah Zaman took from his hand and read:
it contained sundry hints and allusions which required thought; but,
when the King had fully comprehended its import, he said, "I hear and I
obey the commands of the beloved brother!" adding to the Wazir, "But we
will not march till after the third day's hospitality." He appointed
for the Minister fitting quarters of the palace; and, pitching tents
for the troops, rationed them with whatever they might require of meat
and drink and other necessaries. On the fourth day he made ready for
wayfare and got together sumptuous presents befitting his elder
brother's majesty, and stablished his chief Wazir viceroy of the land
during his absence. Then he caused his tents and camels and mules to be
brought forth and encamped, with their bales and loads, attendants and
guards, within sight of the city, in readiness to set out next morning
for his brother's capital. But when the night was half spent he
bethought him that he had forgotten in his palace somewhat which he
should have brought with him, so he re turned privily and entered his
apartments, where he found the Queen, his wife, asleep on his own
carpet bed, embracing with both arms a black cook of loathsome aspect
and foul with kitchen grease and grime. When he saw this the world
waxed black before his sight and he said, "If such case happen while I
am yet within sight of the city what will be the doings of this damned
whore during my long absence at my brother's court?" So he drew his
scymitar and, cutting the two in four pieces with a single blow, left
them on the carpet and returned presently to his camp without letting
anyone know of what had happened. Then he gave orders for immediate
departure and set out at once and began his travel; but he could not
help thinking over his wife's treason and he kept ever saying to
himself, "How could she do this deed by me? How could she work her own
death?," till excessive grief seized him, his colour changed to yellow,
his body waxed weak and he was threatened with a dangerous malady, such
an one as bringeth men to die. So the Wazir shortened his stages and
tarried long at the watering stations and did his best to solace the
King. Now when Shah Zaman drew near the capital of his brother he
despatched vaunt couriers and messengers of glad tidings to announce
his arrival, and Shahryar came forth to meet him with his Wazirs and
Emirs and Lords and Grandees of his realm; and saluted him and joyed
with exceeding joy and caused the city to be decorated in his honour.
When, however, the brothers met, the elder could not but see the change
of complexion in the younger and questioned him of his case whereto he
replied, "Tis caused by the travails of wayfare and my case needs care,
for I have suffered from the change of water and air! but Allah be
praised for reuniting me with a brother so dear and so rare!" On this
wise he dissembled and kept his secret, adding, "O King of the time and
Caliph of the tide, only toil and moil have tinged my face yellow with
bile and hath made my eyes sink deep in my head." Then the two entered
the capital in all honour; and the elder brother lodged the younger in
a palace overhanging the pleasure garden; and, after a time, seeing his
condition still unchanged, he attributed it to his separation from his
country and kingdom. So he let him wend his own ways and asked no
questions of him till one day when he again said, "O my brother, I see
thou art grown weaker of body and yellower of colour." "O my brother,"
replied Shah Zaman "I have an internal wound:"[FN#6] still he would not
tell him what he had witnessed in his wife. Thereupon Shahryar summoned
doctors and surgeons and bade them treat his brother according to the
rules of art, which they did for a whole month; but their sherbets and
potions naught availed, for he would dwell upon the deed of his wife,
and despondency, instead of diminishing, prevailed, and leach craft
treatment utterly failed. One day his elder brother said to him, "I am
going forth to hunt and course and to take my pleasure and pastime;
maybe this would lighten thy heart." Shah Zaman, however, refused,
saying, "O my brother, my soul yearneth for naught of this sort and I
entreat thy favour to suffer me tarry quietly in this place, being
wholly taken up with my malady." So King Shah Zaman passed his night in
the palace and, next morning, when his brother had fared forth, he
removed from his room and sat him down at one of the lattice windows
overlooking the pleasure grounds; and there he abode thinking with
saddest thought over his wife's betrayal and burning sighs issued from
his tortured breast. And as he continued in this case lo! a postern of
the palace, which was carefully kept private, swung open and out of it
came twenty slave girls surrounding his bother's wife who was wondrous
fair, a model of beauty and comeliness and symmetry and perfect
loveliness and who paced with the grace of a gazelle which panteth for
the cooling stream. Thereupon Shah Zaman drew back from the window, but
he kept the bevy in sight espying them from a place whence he could not
be espied. They walked under the very lattice and advanced a little way
into the garden till they came to a jetting fountain amiddlemost a
great basin of water; then they stripped off their clothes and behold,
ten of them were women, concubines of the King, and the other ten were
white slaves. Then they all paired off, each with each: but the Queen,
who was left alone, presently cried out in a loud voice, "Here to me, O
my lord Saeed!" and then sprang with a drop leap from one of the trees
a big slobbering blackamoor with rolling eyes which showed the whites,
a truly hideous sight.[FN#7] He walked boldly up to her and threw his
arms round her neck while she embraced him as warmly; then he bussed
her and winding his legs round hers, as a button loop clasps a button,
he threw her and enjoyed her. On like wise did the other slaves with
the girls till all had satisfied their passions, and they ceased not
from kissing and clipping, coupling and carousing till day began to
wane; when the Mamelukes rose from the damsels' bosoms and the
blackamoor slave dismounted from the Queen's breast; the men resumed
their disguises and all, except the negro who swarmed up the tree,
entered the palace and closed the postern door as before. Now, when
Shah Zaman saw this conduct of his sister in law he said in himself,
"By Allah, my calamity is lighter than this! My brother is a greater
King among the kings than I am, yet this infamy goeth on in his very
palace, and his wife is in love with that filthiest of filthy slaves.
But this only showeth that they all do it[FN#8] and that there is no
woman but who cuckoldeth her husband, then the curse of Allah upon one
and all and upon the fools who lean against them for support or who
place the reins of conduct in their hands." So he put away his
melancholy and despondency, regret and repine, and allayed his sorrow
by constantly repeating those words, adding, " 'Tis my conviction that
no man in this world is safe from their malice!" When supper time came
they brought him the trays and he ate with voracious appetite, for he
had long refrained from meat, feeling unable to touch any dish however
dainty. Then he returned grateful thanks to Almighty Allah, praising
Him and blessing Him, and he spent a most restful night, it having been
long since he had savoured the sweet food of sleep. Next day he broke
his fast heartily and began to recover health and strength, and
presently regained excellent condition. His brother came back from the
chase ten days after, when he rode out to meet him and they saluted
each other; and when King Shahryar looked at King Shah Zaman he saw how
the hue of health had returned to him, how his face had waxed ruddy and
how he ate with an appetite after his late scanty diet. He wondered
much and said, "O my brother, I was so anxious that thou wouldst join
me in hunting and chasing, and wouldst take thy pleasure and pastime in
my dominion!" He thanked him and excused himself; then the two took
horse and rode into the city and, when they were seated at their ease
in the palace, the food trays were set before them and they ate their
sufficiency. After the meats were removed and they had washed their
hands, King Shahryar turned to his brother and said, "My mind is
overcome with wonderment at thy condition. I was desirous to carry thee
with me to the chase but I saw thee changed in hue, pale and wan to
view, and in sore trouble of mind too. But now Alham-dolillah—glory be
to God!—I see thy natural colour hath returned to thy face and that
thou art again in the best of case. It was my belief that thy sickness
came of severance from thy family and friends, and absence from capital
and country, so I refrained from troubling thee with further questions.
But now I beseech thee to expound to me the cause of thy complaint and
thy change of colour, and to explain the reason of thy recovery and the
return to the ruddy hue of health which I am wont to view. So speak out
and hide naught!" When Shah Zaman heard this he bowed groundwards
awhile his head, then raised it and said, "I will tell thee what caused
my complaint and my loss of colour; but excuse my acquainting thee with
the cause of its return to me and the reason of my complete recovery:
indeed I pray thee not to press me for a reply." Said Shahryar, who was
much surprised by these words, "Let me hear first what produced thy
pallor and thy poor condition." "Know, then, O my brother," rejoined
Shah Zaman, "that when thou sentest thy Wazir with the invitation to
place myself between thy hands, I made ready and marched out of my
city; but presently I minded me having left behind me in the palace a
string of jewels intended as a gift to thee. I returned for it alone
and found my wife on my carpet bed and in the arms of a hideous black
cook. So I slew the twain and came to thee, yet my thoughts brooded
over this business and I lost my bloom and became weak. But excuse me
if I still refuse to tell thee what was the reason of my complexion
returning." Shahryar shook his head, marvelling with extreme marvel,
and with the fire of wrath flaming up from his heart, he cried,
"Indeed, the malice of woman is mighty!" Then he took refuge from them
with Allah and said, "In very sooth, O my brother, thou hast escaped
many an evil by putting thy wife to death,[FN#9] and right excusable
were thy wrath and grief for such mishap which never yet befel crowned
King like thee. By Allah, had the case been mine, I would not have been
satisfied without slaying a thousand women and that way madness lies!
But now praise be to Allah who hath tempered to thee thy tribulation,
and needs must thou acquaint me with that which so suddenly restored to
thee complexion and health, and explain to me what causeth this
concealment." "O King of the Age, again I pray thee excuse my so
doing!" "Nay, but thou must." "I fear, O my brother, lest the recital
cause thee more anger and sorrow than afflicted me." "That were but a
better reason," quoth Shahryar, "for telling me the whole history, and
I conjure thee by Allah not to keep back aught from me." Thereupon Shah
Zaman told him all he had seen, from commencement to conclusion, ending
with these words, "When I beheld thy calamity and the treason of thy
wife, O my brother, and I reflected that thou art in years my senior
and in sovereignty my superior, mine own sorrow was belittled by the
comparison, and my mind recovered tone and temper: so throwing off
melancholy and despondency, I was able to eat and drink and sleep, and
thus I speedily regained health and strength. Such is the truth and the
whole truth." When King Shahryar heard this he waxed wroth with
exceeding wrath, and rage was like to strangle him; but presently he
recovered himself and said, "O my brother, I would not give thee the
lie in this matter, but I cannot credit it till I see it with mine own
eyes." "An thou wouldst look upon thy calamity," quoth Shah Zaman,
"rise at once and make ready again for hunting and coursing.[FN#10] and
then hide thyself with me, so shalt thou witness it and thine eyes
shall verify it." "True," quoth the King; whereupon he let make
proclamation of his intent to travel, and the troops and tents fared
forth without the city, camping within sight, and Shahryar sallied out
with them and took seat amidmost his host, bidding the slaves admit no
man to him. When night came on he summoned his Wazir and said to him,
"Sit thou in my stead and let none wot of my absence till the term of
three days." Then the brothers disguised themselves and returned by
night with all secrecy to the palace, where they passed the dark hours:
and at dawn they seated themselves at the lattice overlooking the
pleasure grounds, when presently the Queen and her handmaids came out
as before, and passing under the windows made for the fountain. Here
they stripped, ten of them being men to ten women, and the King's wife
cried out, "Where art thou, O Saeed?" The hideous blackamoor dropped
from the tree straightway; and, rushing into her arms without stay or
delay, cried out, "I am Sa'ad al Din Saood!"[FN#11] The lady laughed
heartily, and all fell to satisfying their lusts, and remained so
occupied for a couple of hours, when the white slaves rose up from the
handmaidens' breasts and the blackamoor dismounted from the Queen's
bosom: then they went into the basin and, after performing the Ghusl,
or complete ablution, donned their dresses and retired as they had done
before. When King Shahryar saw this infamy of his wife and concubines
he became as one distraught and he cried out, "Only in utter solitude
can man be safe from the doings of this vile world! By Allah, life is
naught but one great wrong." Presently he added, "Do not thwart me, O
my brother, in what I propose;" and the other answered, "I will not."
So he said, "Let us up as we are and depart forthright hence, for we
have no concern with Kingship, and let us overwander Allah's earth,
worshipping the Almighty till we find some one to whom the like
calamity hath happened; and if we find none then will death be more
welcome to us than life." So the two brothers issued from a second
private postern of the palace; and they never stinted wayfaring by day
and by night, until they reached a tree a middle of a meadow hard by a
spring of sweet water on the shore of the salt sea. Both drank of it
and sat down to take their rest; and when an hour of the day had gone
by: lo! they heard a mighty roar and uproar in the middle of the main
as though the heavens were falling upon the earth; and the sea brake
with waves before them, and from it towered a black pillar, which grew
and grew till it rose skywards and began making for that meadow. Seeing
it, they waxed fearful exceedingly and climbed to the top of the tree,
which was a lofty; whence they gazed to see what might be the matter.
And behold, it was a Jinni,[FN#12] huge of height and burly of breast
and bulk, broad of brow and black of blee, bearing on his head a coffer
of crystal. He strode to land, wading through the deep, and coming to
the tree whereupon were the two Kings, seated himself beneath it. He
then set down the coffer on its bottom and out it drew a casket, with
seven padlocks of steel, which he unlocked with seven keys of steel he
took from beside his thigh, and out of it a young lady to come was
seen, white-skinned and of winsomest mien, of stature fine and thin,
and bright as though a moon of the fourteenth night she had been, or
the sun raining lively sheen. Even so the poet Utayyah hath excellently
said:—

She rose like the morn as she shone through the night * And she gilded
the grove with her gracious sight:
From her radiance the sun taketh increase when * She unveileth and
shameth the moonshine bright.
Bow down all beings between her hands * As she showeth charms with her
veil undight.
And she floodeth cities[FN#13] with torrent tears * When she flasheth
her look of leven-light.


The Jinni seated her under the tree by his side and looking at her
said, "O choicest love of this heart of mine! O dame of noblest line,
whom I snatched away on thy bride night that none might prevent me
taking thy maidenhead or tumble thee before I did, and whom none save
myself hath loved or hath enjoyed: O my sweetheart! I would lief sleep
a little while." He then laid his head upon the lady's thighs; and,
stretching out his legs which extended down to the sea, slept and
snored and snarked like the roll of thunder. Presently she raised her
head towards the tree top and saw the two Kings perched near the
summit; then she softly lifted off her lap the Jinni's pate which she
was tired of supporting and placed it upon the ground; then standing
upright under the tree signed to the Kings, "Come ye down, ye two, and
fear naught from this Ifrit."[FN#14] They were in a terrible fright
when they found that she had seen them and answered her in the same
manner, "Allah upon thee[FN#15] and by thy modesty, O lady, excuse us
from coming down!" But she rejoined by saying, "Allah upon you both,
that ye come down forthright, and if ye come not, I will rouse upon you
my husband, this Ifrit, and he shall do you to die by the illest of
deaths;" and she continued making signals to them. So, being afraid,
they came down to her and she rose be fore them and said, "Stroke me a
strong stroke, without stay or delay, otherwise will I arouse and set
upon you this Ifrit who shall slay you straightway." They said to her,
"O our lady, we conjure thee by Allah, let us off this work, for we are
fugitives from such and in extreme dread and terror of this thy
husband. How then can we do it in such a way as thou desirest"?" "Leave
this talk: it needs must be so;" quoth she, and she swore them by
Him[FN#16] who raised the skies on high, without prop or pillar, that,
if they worked not her will, she would cause them to be slain and cast
into the sea. Whereupon out of fear King Shahryar said to King Shah
Zaman, "O my brother, do thou what she biddeth thee do;" but he
replied, "I will not do it till thou do it before I do." And they began
disputing about futtering her. Then quoth she to the twain, "How is it
I see you disputing and demurring; if ye do not come forward like men
and do the deed of kind ye two, I will arouse upon you the Ifrit." At
this, by reason of their sore dread of the Jinni, both did by her what
she bade them do; and, when they had dismounted from her, she said,
"Well done!" She then took from her pocket a purse and drew out a
knotted string, whereon were strung five hundred and seventy[FN#17]
seal rings, and asked, "Know ye what be these?" They answered her
saying, "We know not!" Then quoth she; "These be the signets of five
hundred and seventy men who have all futtered me upon the horns of this
foul, this foolish, this filthy Ifrit; so give me also your two seal
rings, ye pair of brothers." When they had drawn their two rings from
their hands and given them to her, she said to them, "Of a truth this
Ifrit bore me off on my bride night, and put me into a casket and set
the casket in a coffer and to the coffer he affixed seven strong
padlocks of steel and deposited me on the deep bottom of the sea that
raves, dashing and clashing with waves; and guarded me so that I might
remain chaste and honest, quotha! that none save himself might have
connexion with me. But I have lain under as many of my kind as I
please, and this wretched Jinni wotteth not that Des tiny may not be
averted nor hindered by aught, and that whatso woman willeth the same
she fulfilleth however man nilleth. Even so saith one of them.—

Rely not on women; * Trust not to their hearts,
Whose joys and whose sorrows * Are hung to their parts!
Lying love they will swear thee * Whence guile ne'er departs:
Take Yusuf[FN#18] for sample * 'Ware sleights and 'ware smarts!
Iblis[FN#19] ousted Adam * (See ye not?) thro' their arts.


And another saith:—

Stint thy blame, man! 'Twill drive to a passion without bound; * My
fault is not so heavy as fault in it hast found.
If true lover I become, then to me there cometh not * Save what
happened unto many in the bygone stound.
For wonderful is he and right worthy of our praise * Who fromwiles of
female wits kept him safe and kept him sound."


Hearing these words they marvelled with exceeding marvel, and she went
from them to the Ifrit and, taking up his head on her thigh as before,
said to them softly, "Now wend your ways and bear yourselves beyond the
bounds of his malice." So they fared forth saying either to other,
"Allah! Allah!" and, "There be no Majesty and there be no Might save in
Allah, the Glorious, the Great; and with Him we seek refuge from
women's malice and sleight, for of a truth it hath no mate in might.
Consider, O my brother, the ways of this marvellous lady with an Ifrit
who is so much more powerful than we are. Now since there hath happened
to him a greater mishap than that which befel us and which should bear
us abundant consolation, so return we to our countries and capitals,
and let us decide never to intermarry with womankind and presently we
will show them what will be our action." Thereupon they rode back to
the tents of King Shahryar, which they reached on the morning of the
third day; and, having mustered the Wazirs and Emirs, the Chamberlains
and high officials, he gave a robe of honour to his Viceroy and issued
orders for an immediate return to the city. There he sat him upon his
throne and sending for the Chief Minister, the father of the two
damsels who (Inshallah!) will presently be mentioned, he said, "I
command thee to take my wife and smite her to death; for she hath
broken her plight and her faith." So he carried her to the place of
execution and did her die. Then King Shahryar took brand in hand and
repairing to the Serraglio slew all the concubines and their
Mamelukes.[FN#20] He also sware himself by a binding oath that whatever
wife he married he would abate her maidenhead at night and slay her
next morning to make sure of his honour; "For," said he, "there never
was nor is there one chaste woman upon the face of earth." Then Shah
Zaman prayed for permission to fare homewards; and he went forth
equipped and escorted and travelled till he reached his own country.
Mean while Shahryar commanded his Wazir to bring him the bride of the
night that he might go in to her; so he produced a most beautiful girl,
the daughter of one of the Emirs and the King went in unto her at
eventide and when morning dawned he bade his Minister strike off her
head; and the Wazir did accordingly for fear of the Sultan. On this
wise he continued for the space of three years; marrying a maiden every
night and killing her the next morning, till folk raised an outcry
against him and cursed him, praying Allah utterly to destroy him and
his rule; and women made an uproar and mothers wept and parents fled
with their daughters till there remained not in the city a young person
fit for carnal copulation. Presently the King ordered his Chief Wazir,
the same who was charged with the executions, to bring him a virgin as
was his wont; and the Minister went forth and searched and found none;
so he returned home in sorrow and anxiety fearing for his life from the
King. Now he had two daughters, Shahrazad and Dunyazad hight,[FN#21] of
whom the elder had perused the books, annals and legends of preceding
Kings, and the stories, examples and instances of by gone men and
things; indeed it was said that she had collected a thousand books of
histories relating to antique races and departed rulers. She had
perused the works of the poets and knew them by heart; she had studied
philosophy and the sciences, arts and accomplishments; and she was
pleasant and polite, wise and witty, well read and well bred. Now on
that day she said to her father, "Why do I see thee thus changed and
laden with cark and care? Concerning this matter quoth one of the
poets.—

Tell whoso hath sorrow * Grief never shall last:
E'en as joy hath no morrow * So woe shall go past."


When the Wazir heard from his daughter these words he related to her,
from first to last, all that had happened between him and the King.
Thereupon said she, "By Allah, O my father, how long shall this
slaughter of women endure? Shall I tell thee what is in my mind in
order to save both sides from destruction?" "Say on, O my daughter,"
quoth he, and quoth she, "I wish thou wouldst give me in marriage to
this King Shahryar; either I shall live or I shall be a ransom for the
virgin daughters of Moslems and the cause of their deliverance from his
hands and thine."[FN#22] "Allah upon thee!" cried he in wrath exceeding
that lacked no feeding, "O scanty of wit, expose not thy life to such
peril! How durst thou address me in words so wide from wisdom and un
far from foolishness? Know that one who lacketh experience in worldly
matters readily falleth into misfortune; and whoso considereth not the
end keepeth not the world to friend, and the vulgar say:—I was lying at
mine ease: nought but my officiousness brought me unease." "Needs must
thou," she broke in, "make me a doer of this good deed, and let him
kill me an he will: I shall only die a ransom for others." "O my
daughter," asked he, "and how shall that profit thee when thou shalt
have thrown away thy life?" and she answered, "O my father it must be,
come of it what will!" The Wazir was again moved to fury and blamed and
reproached her, ending with, "In very deed—I fear lest the same befal
thee which befel the Bull and the Ass with the Husband man." "And
what," asked she, "befel them, O my father?" Whereupon the Wazir began
the




Tale of the Bull[FN#23] and the Ass.


Know, O my daughter, that there was once a merchant who owned much
money and many men, and who was rich in cattle and camels; he had also
a wife and family and he dwelt in the country, being experienced in
husbandry and devoted to agriculture. Now Allah Most High had endowed
him with understanding the tongues of beasts and birds of every kind,
but under pain of death if he divulged the gift to any. So he kept it
secret for very fear. He had in his cow house a Bull and an Ass each
tethered in his own stall one hard by the other. As the merchant was
sitting near hand one day with his servants and his children were
playing about him, he heard the Bull say to the Ass, "Hail and health
to thee O Father of Waking![FN#24] for that thou enjoyest rest and good
ministering; all under thee is clean swept and fresh sprinkled; men
wait upon thee and feed thee, and thy provaunt is sifted barley and thy
drink pure spring water, while I (unhappy creature!) am led forth in
the middle of the night, when they set on my neck the plough and a
something called Yoke; and I tire at cleaving the earth from dawn of
day till set of sun. I am forced to do more than I can and to bear all
manner of ill treatment from night to night; after which they take me
back with my sides torn, my neck flayed, my legs aching and mine
eyelids sored with tears. Then they shut me up in the byre and throw me
beans and crushed straw,[FN#25] mixed with dirt and chaff; and I lie in
dung and filth and foul stinks through the livelong night. But thou art
ever in a place swept and sprinkled and cleansed, and thou art always
lying at ease, save when it happens (and seldom enough!) that the
master hath some business, when he mounts thee and rides thee to town
and returns with thee forthright. So it happens that I am toiling and
distrest while thou takest thine ease and thy rest; thou sleepest while
I am sleepless; I hunger still while thou eatest thy fill, and I win
contempt while thou winnest good will." When the Bull ceased speaking,
the Ass turned towards him and said, "O Broad o' Brow,[FN#26] O thou
lost one! he lied not who dubbed thee Bull head, for thou, O father of
a Bull, hast neither forethought nor contrivance; thou art the simplest
of simpletons,[FN#27] and thou knowest naught of good advisers. Hast
thou not heard the saying of the wise:—

For others these hardships and labours I bear * And theirs is the
pleasure and mine is the care;
As the bleacher who blacketh his brow in the sun * To whiten the
raiment which other men wear.[FN#28]


But thou, O fool, art full of zeal and thou toilest and moilest before
the master; and thou tearest and wearest and slayest thy self for the
comfort of another. Hast thou never heard the saw that saith, None to
guide and from the way go wide? Thou wendest forth at the call to dawn
prayer and thou returnest not till sundown; and through the livelong
day thou endurest all manner hardships; to wit, beating and belabouring
and bad language. Now hearken to me, Sir Bull! when they tie thee to
thy stinking manger, thou pawest the ground with thy forehand and
lashest out with thy hind hoofs and pushest with thy horns and
bellowest aloud, so they deem thee contented. And when they throw thee
thy fodder thou fallest on it with greed and hastenest to line thy fair
fat paunch. But if thou accept my advice it will be better for thee and
thou wilt lead an easier life even than mine. When thou goest a field
and they lay the thing called Yoke on thy neck, lie down and rise not
again though haply they swinge thee; and, if thou rise, lie down a
second time; and when they bring thee home and offer thee thy beans,
fall backwards and only sniff at thy meat and withdraw thee and taste
it not, and be satis fied with thy crushed straw and chaff; and on this
wise feign thou art sick, and cease not doing thus for a day or two
days or even three days, so shalt thou have rest from toil and moil."
When the Bull heard these words he knew the Ass to be his friend and
thanked him, saying, "Right is thy rede;" and prayed that all blessings
might requite him, and cried, "O Father Wakener![FN#29] thou hast made
up for my failings." (Now[FN#30] the merchant, O my daughter,
understood all that passed between them.) Next day the driver took the
Bull, and settling the plough on his neck,[FN#31] made him work as
wont; but the Bull began to shirk his ploughing, according to the
advice of the Ass, and the ploughman drubbed him till he broke the yoke
and made off; but the man caught him up and leathered him till he
despaired of his life. Not the less, however, would he do nothing but
stand still and drop down till the evening. Then the herd led him home
and stabled him in his stall: but he drew back from his manger and
neither stamped nor ramped nor butted nor bellowed as he was wont to
do; whereat the man wondered. He brought him the beans and husks, but
he sniffed at them and left them and lay down as far from them as he
could and passed the whole night fasting. The peasant came next
morning; and, seeing the manger full of beans, the crushed straw
untasted and the ox lying on his back in sorriest plight, with legs
outstretched and swollen belly, he was concerned for him, and said to
himself, "By Allah, he hath assuredly sickened and this is the cause
why he would not plough yesterday." Then he went to the merchant and
reported, "O my master, the Bull is ailing; he refused his fodder last
night; nay more, he hath not tasted a scrap of it this morning." Now
the merchant farmer understood what all this meant, because he had
overheard the talk between the Bull and the Ass, so quoth he, "Take
that rascal donkey, and set the yoke on his neck, and bind him to the
plough and make him do Bull's work." Thereupon the ploughman took the
Ass, and worked him through the livelong day at the Bull's task; and,
when he failed for weakness, he made him eat stick till his ribs were
sore and his sides were sunken and his neck was flayed by the yoke; and
when he came home in the evening he could hardly drag his limbs along,
either forehand or hind legs. But as for the Bull, he had passed the
day lying at full length and had eaten his fodder with an excellent
appetite, and he ceased not calling down blessings on the Ass for his
good advice, unknowing what had come to him on his account. So when
night set in and the Ass returned to the byre the Bull rose up before
him in honour, and said, "May good tidings gladden thy heart, O Father
Wakener! through thee I have rested all this day and I have eaten my
meat in peace and quiet." But the Ass returned no reply, for wrath and
heart burning and fatigue and the beating he had gotten; and he
repented with the most grievous of repentance; and quoth he to himself:
"This cometh of my folly in giving good counsel; as the saw saith, I
was in joy and gladness, nought save my officiousness brought me this
sadness. But I will bear in mind my innate worth and the nobility of my
nature; for what saith the poet?

Shall the beautiful hue of the Basil[FN#32] fail * Tho' the beetle's
foot o'er the Basil crawl?
And though spider and fly be its denizens * Shall disgrace attach to
the royal hall?
The cowrie,[FN#33] I ken, shall have currency * But the pearl's clear
drop, shall its value fall?


And now I must take thought and put a trick upon him and return him to
his place, else I die." Then he went aweary to his manger, while the
Bull thanked him and blessed him. And even so, O my daughter, said the
Wazir, thou wilt die for lack of wits; therefore sit thee still and say
naught and expose not thy life to such stress; for, by Allah, I offer
thee the best advice, which cometh of my affection and kindly
solicitude for thee." "O my father," she answered, "needs must I go up
to this King and be married to him." Quoth he, "Do not this deed;" and
quoth she, "Of a truth I will:" whereat he rejoined, "If thou be not
silent and bide still, I will do with thee even what the merchant did
with his wife." "And what did he?" asked she. "Know then, answered the
Wazir, that after the return of the Ass the merchant came out on the
terrace roof with his wife and family, for it was a moonlit night and
the moon at its full. Now the ter race overlooked the cowhouse and
presently, as he sat there with his children playing about him, the
trader heard the Ass say to the Bull, "Tell me, O Father Broad o' Brow,
what thou purposest to do to morrow?" The Bull answered, "What but
continue to follow thy counsel, O Aliboron? Indeed it was as good as
good could be and it hath given me rest and repose; nor will I now
depart from it one tittle: so, when they bring me my meat, I will
refuse it and blow out my belly and counterfeit crank." The Ass shook
his head and said, "Beware of so doing, O Father of a Bull!" The Bull
asked, "Why," and the Ass answered, "Know that I am about to give thee
the best of counsel, for verily I heard our owner say to the herd, If
the Bull rise not from his place to do his work this morning and if he
retire from his fodder this day, make him over to the butcher that he
may slaughter him and give his flesh to the poor, and fashion a bit of
leather[FN#34] from his hide. Now I fear for thee on account of this.
So take my advice ere a calamity befal thee; and when they bring thee
thy fodder eat it and rise up and bellow and paw the ground, or our
master will assuredly slay thee: and peace be with thee!" Thereupon the
Bull arose and lowed aloud and thanked the Ass, and said, "To morrow I
will readily go forth with them;" and he at once ate up all his meat
and even licked the manger. (All this took place and the owner was
listening to their talk.) Next morning the trader and his wife went to
the Bull's crib and sat down, and the driver came and led forth the
Bull who, seeing his owner, whisked his tail and brake wind, and
frisked about so lustily that the merchant laughed a loud laugh and
kept laughing till he fell on his back. His wife asked him, "Whereat
laughest thou with such loud laughter as this?"; and he answered her,
"I laughed at a secret something which I have heard and seen but cannot
say lest I die my death." She returned, "Perforce thou must discover it
to me, and disclose the cause of thy laughing even if thou come by thy
death!" But he rejoined, "I cannot reveal what beasts and birds say in
their lingo for fear I die." Then quoth she, "By Allah, thou liest!
this is a mere pretext: thou laughest at none save me, and now thou
wouldest hide somewhat from me. But by the Lord of the Heavens! an thou
disclose not the cause I will no longer cohabit with thee: I will leave
thee at once." And she sat down and cried. Whereupon quoth the
merchant, "Woe betide thee! what means thy weeping? Fear Allah and
leave these words and query me no more questions." "Needs must thou
tell me the cause of that laugh," said she, and he replied, "Thou
wottest that when I prayed Allah to vouchsafe me understanding of the
tongues of beasts and birds, I made a vow never to disclose the secret
to any under pain of dying on the spot." "No matter," cried she, "tell
me what secret passed between the Bull and the Ass and die this very
hour an thou be so minded;" and she ceased not to importune him till he
was worn out and clean distraught. So at last he said, "Summon thy
father and thy mother and our kith and kin and sundry of our
neighbours," which she did; and he sent for the Kazi[FN#35] and his
assessors, intending to make his will and reveal to her his secret and
die the death; for he loved her with love exceeding because she was his
cousin, the daughter of his father's brother, and the mother of his
children, and he had lived with her a life of an hundred and twenty
years. Then, having assembled all the family and the folk of his
neighbourhood, he said to them, "By me there hangeth a strange story,
and 'tis such that if I discover the secret to any, I am a dead man."
Therefore quoth every one of those present to the woman, "Allah upon
thee, leave this sinful obstinacy and recognise the right of this
matter, lest haply thy husband and the father of thy children die." But
she rejoined, "I will not turn from it till he tell me, even though he
come by his death." So they ceased to urge her; and the trader rose
from amongst them and repaired to an out-house to perform
Wuzu-ablution,[FN#36] and he purposed thereafter to return and to tell
them his secret and to die. Now, daughter Shahrazad, that mer chant had
in his out-houses some fifty hens under one cock, and whilst making
ready to farewell his folk he heard one of his many farm dogs thus
address in his own tongue the Cock, who was flapping his wings and
crowing lustily and jumping from one hen's back to another and treading
all in turn, saying "O Chanticleer! how mean is thy wit and how
shameless is thy conduct! Be he disappointed who brought thee
up![FN#37] Art thou not ashamed of thy doings on such a day as this!"
"And what," asked the Rooster, "hath occurred this day?" when the Dog
answered, "Dost thou not know that our master is this day making ready
for his death? His wife is resolved that he shall disclose the secret
taught to him by Allah, and the moment he so doeth he shall surely die.
We dogs are all a mourning; but thou clappest thy wings and clarionest
thy loudest and treadest hen after hen. Is this an hour for pastime and
pleasuring? Art thou not ashamed of thyself?"[FN#38] "Then by Allah,"
quoth the Cock, "is our master a lack wit and a man scanty of sense: if
he cannot manage matters with a single wife, his life is not worth
prolonging. Now I have some fifty Dame Partlets; and I please this and
provoke that and starve one and stuff another; and through my good
governance they are all well under my control. This our master
pretendeth to wit and wisdom, and he hath but one wife, and yet knoweth
not how to manage her." Asked the Dog, "What then, O Cock, should the
master do to win clear of his strait?" "He should arise forthright,"
answered the Cock, "and take some twigs from yon mulberry tree and give
her a regular back basting and rib roasting till she cry:—I repent, O
my lord! I will never ask thee a question as long as I live! Then let
him beat her once more and soundly, and when he shall have done this he
shall sleep free from care and enjoy life. But this master of ours owns
neither sense nor judgment." "Now, daughter Shahrazad," continued the
Wazir, "I will do to thee as did that husband to that wife." Said
Shahrazad, "And what did he do?" He replied, "When the merchant heard
the wise words spoken by his Cock to his Dog, he arose in haste and
sought his wife's chamber, after cutting for her some mulberry twigs
and hiding them there; and then he called to her, "Come into the closet
that I may tell thee the secret while no one seeth me and then die."
She entered with him and he locked the door and came down upon her with
so sound a beating of back and shoulders, ribs, arms and legs, saying
the while, "Wilt thou ever be asking questions about what concerneth
thee not?" that she was well nigh senseless. Presently she cried out,
"I am of the repentant! By Allah, I will ask thee no more questions,
and indeed I repent sincerely and wholesomely." Then she kissed his
hand and feet and he led her out of the room submissive as a wife
should be. Her parents and all the company rejoiced and sadness and
mourning were changed into joy and gladness. Thus the merchant learnt
family discipline from his Cock and he and his wife lived together the
happiest of lives until death. And thou also, O my daughter!" continued
the Wazir, "Unless thou turn from this matter I will do by thee what
that trader did to his wife." But she answered him with much decision,
"I will never desist, O my father, nor shall this tale change my
purpose. Leave such talk and tattle. I will not listen to thy words
and, if thou deny me, I will marry myself to him despite the nose of
thee. And first I will go up to the King myself and alone and I will
say to him:—I prayed my father to wive me with thee, but he refused
being resolved to disappoint his lord, grudging the like of me to the
like of thee." Her father asked, "Must this needs be?" and she
answered, "Even so." Hereupon the Wazir being weary of lamenting and
contending, persuading and dissuading her, all to no purpose, went up
to King Shahryar and after blessing him and kissing the ground before
him, told him all about his dispute with his daughter from first to
last and how he designed to bring her to him that night. The King
wondered with exceeding wonder; for he had made an especial exception
of the Wazir's daughter, and said to him, "O most faithful of
Counsellors, how is this? Thou wottest that I have sworn by the Raiser
of the Heavens that after I have gone in to her this night I shall say
to thee on the morrow's morning:—Take her and slay her! and, if thou
slay her not, I will slay thee in her stead without fail." "Allah guide
thee to glory and lengthen thy life, O King of the age," answered the
Wazir, "it is she that hath so determined: all this have I told her and
more; but she will not hearken to me and she persisteth in passing this
coming night with the King's Majesty." So Shahryar rejoiced greatly and
said, "'Tis well; go get her ready and this night bring her to me." The
Wazir returned to his daughter and reported to her the command saying,
"Allah make not thy father desolate by thy loss!" But Shahrazad
rejoiced with exceeding joy and gat ready all she required and said to
her younger sister, Dunyazad, "Note well what directions I entrust to
thee! When I have gone into the King I will send for thee and when thou
comest to me and seest that he hath had his carnal will of me, do thou
say to me:—O my sister, an thou be not sleepy, relate to me some new
story, delectable and delightsome, the better to speed our waking
hours;" and I will tell thee a tale which shall be our deliverance, if
so Allah please, and which shall turn the King from his blood thirsty
custom." Dunyazad answered "With love and gladness." So when it was
night their father the Wazir carried Shahrazad to the King who was
gladdened at the sight and asked, "Hast thou brought me my need?" and
he answered, "I have." But when the King took her to his bed and fell
to toying with her and wished to go in to her she wept; which made him
ask, "What aileth thee?" She replied, "O King of the age, I have a
younger sister and lief would I take leave of her this night before I
see the dawn." So he sent at once for Dunyazad and she came and kissed
the ground between his hands, when he permitted her to take her seat
near the foot of the couch. Then the King arose and did away with his
bride's maidenhead and the three fell asleep. But when it was midnight
Shahrazad awoke and signalled to her sister Dunyazad who sat up and
said, "Allah upon thee, O my sister, recite to us some new story,
delightsome and delectable, wherewith to while away the waking hours of
our latter night."[FN#39] "With joy and goodly gree," answered
Shahrazad, "if this pious and auspicious King permit me." "Tell on,"
quoth the King who chanced to be sleepless and restless and therefore
was pleased with the prospect of hearing her story. So Shahrazad
rejoiced; and thus, on the first night of the Thousand Nights and a
Night, she began with the




TALE OF THE TRADER AND THE JINNI.


It is related, O auspicious King, that there was a merchant of the
merchants who had much wealth, and business in various cities. Now on a
day he mounted horse and went forth to recover monies in certain towns,
and the heat sore oppressed him; so he sat beneath a tree and, putting
his hand into his saddle bags, took thence some broken bread and dry
dates and began to break his fast. When he had ended eating the dates
he threw away the stones with force and lo! an Ifrit appeared, huge of
stature and brandishing a drawn sword, wherewith he approached the
merchant and said, "Stand up that I may slay thee, even as thou slewest
my son!" Asked the merchant, "How have I slain thy son?" and he
answered, "When thou atest dates and threwest away the stones they
struck my son full in the breast as he was walking by, so that he died
forthwith."[FN#40] Quoth the merchant, "Verily from Allah we proceeded
and unto Allah are we returning. There is no Majesty, and there is no
Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! If I slew thy son, I slew
him by chance medley. I pray thee now pardon me." Rejoined the Jinni,
"There is no help but I must slay thee." Then he seized him and dragged
him along and, casting him to the earth, raised the sword to strike
him; whereupon the merchant wept, and said, "I commit my case to
Allah," and began repeating these couplets:—

Containeth Time a twain of days, this of blessing that of bane * And
holdeth Life a twain of halves, this of pleasure that of pain.
See'st not when blows the hurricane, sweeping stark and striking strong
* None save the forest giant feels the suffering of the strain?
How many trees earth nourisheth of the dry and of the green * Yet none
but those which bear the fruits for cast of stone complain.
See'st not how corpses rise and float on the surface of the tide *
While pearls o'price lie hidden in the deepest of the main!
In Heaven are unnumbered the many of the stars * Yet ne'er a star but
Sun and Moon by eclipse is overta'en.
Well judgedst thou the days that saw thy faring sound and well * And
countedst not the pangs and pain whereof Fate is ever fain.
The nights have kept thee safe and the safety brought thee pride * But
bliss and blessings of the night are 'genderers of bane!


When the merchant ceased repeating his verses the Jinni said to him,
"Cut thy words short, by Allah! needs must I slay thee." But the
merchant spake him thus, "Know, O thou Ifrit, that I have debts due to
me and much wealth and children and a wife and many pledges in hand; so
permit me to go home and discharge to every claimant his claim; and I
will come back to thee at the head of the new year. Allah be my
testimony and surety that I will return to thee; and then thou mayest
do with me as thou wilt and Allah is witness to what I say." The Jinni
took sure promise of him and let him go; so he returned to his own city
and transacted his business and rendered to all men their dues and
after informing his wife and children of what had betided him, he
appointed a guardian and dwelt with them for a full year. Then he
arose, and made the Wuzu ablution to purify himself before death and
took his shroud under his arm and bade farewell to his people, his
neighbours and all his kith and kin, and went forth despite his own
nose.[FN#41] They then began weeping and wailing and beating their
breasts over him; but he travelled until he arrived at the same garden,
and the day of his arrival was the head of the New Year. As he sat
weeping over what had befallen him, behold, a Shaykh,[FN#42] a very
ancient man, drew near leading a chained gazelle; and he saluted that
merchant and wishing him long life said, "What is the cause of thy
sitting in this place and thou alone and this be a resort of evil
spirits?" The merchant related to him what had come to pass with the
Ifrit, and the old man, the owner of the gazelle, wondered and said,
"By Allah, O brother, thy faith is none other than exceeding faith and
thy story right strange; were it graven with gravers on the eye
corners, it were a warner to whoso would be warned." Then seating
himself near the merchant he said, "By Allah, O my brother, I will not
leave thee until I see what may come to pass with thee and this Ifrit."
And presently as he sat and the two were at talk the merchant began to
feel fear and terror and exceeding grief and sorrow beyond relief and
ever growing care and extreme despair. And the owner of the gazelle was
hard by his side; when behold, a second Shaykh approached them, and
with him were two dogs both of greyhound breed and both black. The
second old man after saluting them with the salam, also asked them of
their tidings and said "What causeth you to sit in this place, a
dwelling of the Jann?"[FN#43] So they told him the tale from beginning
to end, and their stay there had not lasted long before there came up a
third Shaykh, and with him a she mule of bright bay coat; and he
saluted them and asked them why they were seated in that place. So they
told him the story from first to last: and of no avail, O my master, is
a twice told tale! There he sat down with them, and lo! a dust cloud
advanced and a mighty sand-devil appeared amidmost of the waste.
Presently the cloud opened and behold, within it was that Jinni hending
in hand a drawn sword, while his eyes were shooting fire sparks of
rage. He came up to them and, haling away the merchant from among them,
cried to him, "Arise that I may slay thee, as thou slewest my son, the
life stuff of my liver."[FN#44] The merchant wailed and wept, and the
three old men began sighing and crying and weeping and wailing with
their companion. Presently the first old man (the owner of the gazelle)
came out from among them and kissed the hand of the Ifrit and said, "O
Jinni, thou Crown of the Kings of the Jann! were I to tell thee the
story of me and this gazelle and thou shouldst consider it wondrous
wouldst thou give me a third part of this merchant's blood?" Then quoth
the Jinni "Even so, O Shaykh ! if thou tell me this tale, and I hold it
a marvellous, then will I give thee a third of his blood." Thereupon
the old man began to tell




The First Shaykh’s Story.


Know O Jinni! that this gazelle is the daughter of my paternal uncle,
my own flesh and blood, and I married her when she was a young maid,
and I lived with her well nigh thirty years, yet was I not blessed with
issue by her. So I took me a concubine[FN#45] who brought to me the
boon of a male child fair as the full moon, with eyes of lovely shine
and eyebrows which formed one line, and limbs of perfect design. Little
by little he grew in stature and waxed tall; and when he was a lad
fifteen years old, it became needful I should journey to certain cities
and I travelled with great store of goods. But the daughter of my uncle
(this gazelle) had learned gramarye and egromancy and clerkly
craft[FN#46] from her childhood; so she bewitched that son of mine to a
calf, and my handmaid (his mother) to a heifer, and made them over to
the herdsman's care. Now when I returned after a long time from my
journey and asked for my son and his mother, she answered me, saying
"Thy slave girl is dead, and thy son hath fled and I know not whither
he is sped." So I remained for a whole year with grieving heart, and
streaming eyes until the time came for the Great Festival of
Allah.[FN#47] Then sent I to my herdsman bidding him choose for me a
fat heifer; and he brought me one which was the damsel, my handmaid,
whom this gazelle had ensorcelled. I tucked up my sleeves and skirt
and, taking a knife, proceeded to cut her throat, but she lowed aloud
and wept bitter tears. Thereat I marvelled and pity seized me and I
held my hand, saying to the herd, "Bring me other than this." Then
cried my cousin, "Slay her, for I have not a fatter nor a fairer!" Once
more I went forward to sacrifice her, but she again lowed aloud upon
which in ruth I refrained and commanded the herdsman to slay her and
flay her. He killed her and skinned her but found in her neither fat
nor flesh, only hide and bone; and I repented when penitence availed me
naught. I gave her to the herdsman and said to him, "Fetch me a fat
calf;" so he brought my son ensorcelled. When the calf saw me, he brake
his tether and ran to me, and fawned upon me and wailed and shed tears;
so that I took pity on him and said to the herdsman, "Bring me a heifer
and let this calf go!" Thereupon my cousin (this gazelle) called aloud
at me, saying, "Needs must thou kill this calf; this is a holy day and
a blessed, whereon naught is slain save what be perfect pure; and we
have not amongst our calves any fatter or fairer than this!" Quoth I,
"Look thou upon the condition of the heifer which I slaughtered at thy
bidding and how we turn from her in disappointment and she profited us
on no wise; and I repent with an exceeding repentance of having killed
her: so this time I will not obey thy bidding for the sacrifice of this
calf." Quoth she, "By Allah the Most Great, the Compassionating, the
Compassionate! there is no help for it; thou must kill him on this holy
day, and if thou kill him not to me thou art no man and I to thee am no
wife." Now when I heard those hard words, not knowing her object I went
up to the calf, knife in hand—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day
and ceased to say her permitted say.[FN#48] Then quoth her sister to
her, "How fair is thy tale, and how grateful, and how sweet and how
tasteful!" And Shahrazad answered her, "What is this to that I could
tell thee on the coming night, were I to live and the King would spare
me?" Then said the King in himself, "By Allah, I will not slay her,
until I shall have heard the rest of her tale." So they slept the rest
of that night in mutual embrace till day fully brake. Then the King
went forth to his audience hall[FN#49] and the Wazir went up with his
daughter's shroud under his arm. The King issued his orders, and
promoted this and deposed that, until the end of the day; and he told
the Wazir no whit of what had happened. But the Minister wondered
thereat with exceeding wonder; and when the Court broke up King
Shahryar entered his palace.

When it was the Second Night,


said Dunyazad to her sister Shahrazad, "O my sister, finish for us that
story of the Merchant and the Jinni;" and she answered "With joy and
goodly gree, if the King permit me." Then quoth the King, "Tell thy
tale;" and Shahrazad began in these words: It hath reached me, O
auspicious King and Heaven directed Ruler! that when the merchant
purposed the sacrifice of the calf but saw it weeping, his heart
relented and he said to the herdsman, "Keep the calf among my cattle."
All this the old Shaykh told the Jinni who marvelled much at these
strange words. Then the owner of the gazelle continued:—O Lord of the
Kings of the Jann, this much took place and my uncle's daughter, this
gazelle, looked on and saw it, and said, "Butcher me this calf, for
surely it is a fat one;" but I bade the herdsman take it away and he
took it and turned his face homewards. On the next day as I was sitting
in my own house, lo! the herdsman came and, standing before me said, "O
my master, I will tell thee a thing which shall gladden thy soul, and
shall gain me the gift of good tidings."[FN#50] I answered, "Even so."
Then said he, "O merchant, I have a daughter, and she learned magic in
her childhood from an old woman who lived with us. Yesterday when thou
gavest me the calf, I went into the house to her, and she looked upon
it and veiled her face; then she wept and laughed alternately and at
last she said:—O my father, hath mine honour become so cheap to thee
that thou bringest in to me strange men? I asked her:—Where be these
strange men and why wast thou laughing, and crying?; and she answered,
Of a truth this calf which is with thee is the son of our master, the
merchant; but he is ensorcelled by his stepdame who bewitched both him
and his mother: such is the cause of my laughing; now the reason of his
weeping is his mother, for that his father slew her unawares. Then I
marvelled at this with exceeding marvel and hardly made sure that day
had dawned before I came to tell thee." When I heard, O Jinni, my
herdsman's words, I went out with him, and I was drunken without wine,
from the excess of joy and gladness which came upon me, until I reached
his house. There his daughter welcomed me and kissed my hand, and
forthwith the calf came and fawned upon me as before. Quoth I to the
herdsman's daughter, "Is this true that thou sayest of this calf?"
Quoth she, "Yea, O my master, he is thy son, the very core of thy
heart." I rejoiced and said to her, "O maiden, if thou wilt release him
thine shall be whatever cattle and property of mine are under thy
father's hand." She smiled and answered, "O my master, I have no greed
for the goods nor will I take them save on two conditions; the first
that thou marry me to thy son and the second that I may bewitch her who
bewitched him and imprison her, otherwise I cannot be safe from her
malice and malpractices." Now when I heard, O Jinni, these, the words
of the herdsman's daughter, I replied, "Beside what thou askest all the
cattle and the household stuff in thy father's charge are thine and, as
for the daughter of my uncle, her blood is lawful to thee." When I had
spoken, she took a cup and filled it with water: then she recited a
spell over it and sprinkled it upon the calf, saying, "If Almighty
Allah created thee a calf, remain so shaped, and change not; but if
thou be enchanted, return to thy whilom form, by command of Allah Most
Highest!" and lo! he trembled and became a man. Then I fell on his neck
and said, "Allah upon thee, tell me all that the daughter of my uncle
did by thee and by thy mother." And when he told me what had come to
pass between them I said, " O my son, Allah favoured thee with one to
restore thee, and thy right hath returned to thee." Then, O Jinni, I
married the herdsman's daughter to him, and she transformed my wife
into this gazelle, saying:—Her shape is a comely and by no means
loathsome. After this she abode with us night and day, day and night,
till the Almighty took her to Himself. When she deceased, my son fared
forth to the cities of Hind, even to the city of this man who hath done
to thee what hath been done;[FN#51] and I also took this gazelle (my
cousin) and wandered with her from town to town seeking tidings of my
son, till Destiny drove me to this place where I saw the merchant
sitting in tears. Such is my tale! Quoth the Jinni, "This story is
indeed strange, and therefore I grant thee the third part of his
blood." Thereupon the second old man, who owned the two greyhounds,
came up and said, " O Jinni, if I recount to thee what befel me from my
brothers, these two hounds, and thou see that it is a tale even more
wondrous and marvellous than what thou hast heard, wilt thou grant to
me also the third of this man's blood?" Replied the Jinni, "Thou hast
my word for it, if thine adventures be more marvellous and wondrous."
Thereupon he thus began




The Second Shaykh’s Story.


Know, O lord of the Kings of the Jann! that these two dogs are my
brothers and I am the third. Now when our father died and left us a
capital of three thousand gold pieces,[FN#52] I opened a shop with my
share, and bought and sold therein, and in like guise did my two
brothers, each setting up a shop. But I had been in business no long
while before the elder sold his stock for a thousand dinars, and after
buying outfit and merchandise, went his ways to foreign parts. He was
absent one whole year with the caravan; but one day as I sat in my
shop, behold, a beggar stood before me asking alms, and I said to him,
"Allah open thee another door!"[FN#53] Whereupon he answered, weeping
the while, "Am I so changed that thou knowest me not?" Then I looked at
him narrowly, and lo! it was my brother, so I rose to him and welcomed
him; then I seated him in my shop and put questions concerning his
case. "Ask me not," answered he; "my wealth is awaste and my state hath
waxed unstated!" So I took him to the Hammam bath[FN#54] and clad him
in a suit of my own and gave him lodging in my house. Moreover, after
looking over the accounts of my stock in trade and the profits of my
business, I found that industry had gained me one thousand dinars,
while my principal, the head of my wealth, amounted to two thousand. So
I shared the whole with him saying, "Assume that thou hast made no
journey abroad but hast remained at home; and be not cast down by thine
ill luck." He took the share in great glee and opened for himself a
shop; and matters went on quietly for a few nights and days. But
presently my second brother (yon other dog), also setting his heart
upon travel, sold off what goods and stock in trade he had, and albeit
we tried to stay him he would not be stayed: he laid in an outfit for
the journey and fared forth with certain wayfarers. After an absence of
a whole year he came back to me, even as my elder brother had come
back; and when I said to him, "O my brother, did I not dissuade thee
from travel?" he shed tears and cried, "O my brother, this be destiny's
decree: here I am a mere beggar, penniless[FN#55] and without a shirt
to my back." So I led him to the bath, O Jinni, and clothing him in new
clothes of my own wear, I went with him to my shop and served him with
meat and drink. Furthermore I said to him, "O my brother, I am wont to
cast up my shop accounts at the head of every year, and whatso I shall
find of surplusage is between me and thee."[FN#56] So I proceeded, O
Ifrit, to strike a balance and, finding two thousand dinars of profit,
I returned praises to the Creator (be He extolled and exalted!) and
made over one half to my brother, keeping the other to myself.
Thereupon he busied himself with opening a shop and on this wise we
abode many days. After a time my brothers began pressing me to travel
with them; but I refused saying, "What gained ye by travel voyage that
I should gain thereby?" As I would not give ear to them we went back
each to his own shop where we bought and sold as before. They kept
urging me to travel for a whole twelvemonth, but I refused to do so
till full six years were past and gone when I consented with these
words, "O my brothers, here am I, your companion of travel: now let me
see what monies you have by you." I found, however, that they had not a
doit, having squandered their substance in high diet and drinking and
carnal delights. Yet I spoke not a word of reproach; so far from it I
looked over my shop accounts once more, and sold what goods and stock
in trade were mine; and, finding myself the owner of six thousand
ducats, I gladly proceeded to divide that sum in halves, saying to my
brothers, "These three thousand gold pieces are for me and for you to
trade withal," adding, "Let us bury the other moiety underground that
it may be of service in case any harm befal us, in which case each
shall take a thousand wherewith to open shops." Both replied, "Right is
thy recking;" and I gave to each one his thousand gold pieces, keeping
the same sum for myself, to wit, a thousand dinars. We then got ready
suitable goods and hired a ship and, having embarked our merchandise,
proceeded on our voyage, day following day, a full month, after which
we arrived at a city, where we sold our venture; and for every piece of
gold we gained ten. And as we turned again to our voyage we found on
the shore of the sea a maiden clad in worn and ragged gear, and she
kissed my hand and said, "O master, is there kindness in thee and
charity? I can make thee a fitting return for them." I answered, "Even
so; truly in me are benevolence and good works, even though thou render
me no return." Then she said, "Take me to wife, O my master, and carry
me to thy city, for I have given myself to thee; so do me a kindness
and I am of those who be meet for good works and charity: I will make
thee a fitting return for these and be thou not shamed by my
condition." When I heard her words, my heart yearned towards her, in
such sort as willed it Allah (be He extolled and exalted!); and took
her and clothed her and made ready for her a fair resting place in the
vessel, and honourably entreated her. So we voyaged on, and my heart
became attached to her with exceeding attachment, and I was separated
from her neither night nor day, and I paid more regard to her than to
my brothers. Then they were estranged from me, and waxed jealous of my
wealth and the quantity of merchandise I had, and their eyes were
opened covetously upon all my property. So they took counsel to murder
me and seize my wealth, saying, "Let us slay our brother and all his
monies will be ours;" and Satan made this deed seem fair in their
sight; so when they found me in privacy (and I sleeping by my wife's
side) they took us both up and cast us into the sea. My wife awoke
startled from her sleep and, forthright becoming an Ifritah,[FN#57] she
bore me up and carried me to an island and disappeared for a short
time; but she returned in the morning and said, "Here am I, thy
faithful slave, who hath made thee due recompense; for I bore thee up
in the waters and saved thee from death by command of the Almighty.
Know—that I am a Jinniyah, and as I saw thee my heart loved thee by
will of the Lord, for I am a believer in Allah and in His Apostle (whom
Heaven bless and preserve!). Thereupon I came to thee conditioned as
thou sawest me and thou didst marry me, and see now I have saved thee
from sinking. But I am angered against thy brothers and assuredly I
must slay them." When I heard her story I was surprised and, thanking
her for all she had done, I said, "But as to slaying my brothers this
must not be." Then I told her the tale of what had come to pass with
them from the beginning of our lives to the end, and on hearing it
quoth she, "This night will I fly as a bird over them and will sink
their ship and slay them." Quoth I, "Allah upon thee, do not thus, for
the proverb saith, O thou who doest good to him that doth evil, leave
the evil doer to his evil deeds. Moreover they are still my brothers."
But she rejoined, "By Allah, there is no help for it but I slay them."
I humbled myself before her for their pardon, whereupon she bore me up
and flew away with me till at last she set me down on the terrace roof
of my own house. I opened the doors and took up what I had hidden in
the ground; and after I had saluted the folk I opened my shop and
bought me merchandise. Now when night came on I went home, and there I
saw these two hounds tied up; and, when they sighted me, they arose and
whined and fawned upon me; but ere I knew what happened my wife said,
"These two dogs be thy brothers!" I answered, "And who hath done this
thing by them?" and she rejoined, "I sent a message to my sister and
she entreated them on this wise, nor shall these two be released from
their present shape till ten years shall have passed." And now I have
arrived at this place on my way to my wife's sister that she may
deliver them from this condition, after their having endured it for
half a score of years. As I was wending onwards I saw this young man,
who acquainted me with what had befallen him, and I determined not to
fare hence until I should see what might occur between thee and him.
Such is my tale! Then said the Jinni, "Surely this is a strange story
and therefor I give thee the third portion of his blood and his crime."
Thereupon quoth the third Shaykh, the master of the mare mule, to the
Jinni, "I can tell thee a tale more wondrous than these two, so thou
grant me the remainder of his blood and of his offense," and the Jinni
answered, "So be it!" Then the old man began




The Third Shaykh’s Story.


Know, O Sultan and head of the Jann, that this mule was my wife. Now it
so happened that I went forth and was absent one whole year; and when I
returned from my journey I came to her by night, and saw a black slave
lying with her on the carpet bed and they were talking, and dallying,
and laughing, and kissing and playing the close buttock game. When she
saw me, she rose and came hurriedly at me with a gugglet[FN#58] of
water; and, muttering spells over it, she besprinkled me and said,
"Come forth from this thy shape into the shape of a dog;" and I became
on the instant a dog. She drove me out of the house, and I ran through
the doorway nor ceased running until I came to a butcher's stall, where
I stopped and began to eat what bones were there. When the stall owner
saw me, he took me and led me into his house, but as soon as his
daughter had sight of me she veiled her face from me, crying out, "Dost
thou bring men to me and dost thou come in with them to me?" Her father
asked, "Where is the man?"; and she answered, "This dog is a man whom
his wife hath ensorcelled and I am able to release him." When her
father heard her words, he said, "Allah upon thee, O my daughter,
release him." So she took a gugglet of water and, after uttering words
over it, sprinkled upon me a few drops, saying, "Come forth from that
form into thy former form." And I returned to my natural shape. Then I
kissed her hand and said, "I wish thou wouldest transform my wife even
as she transformed me." Thereupon she gave me some water, saying, "As
soon as thou see her asleep, sprinkle this liquid upon her and speak
what words thou heardest me utter, so shall she become whatsoever thou
desirest." I went to my wife and found her fast asleep; and, while
sprinkling the water upon her, I said, "Come forth from that form into
the form of a mare mule." So she became on the instant a she mule, and
she it is whom thou seest with thine eyes, O Sultan and head of the
Kings of the Jann! Then the Jinni turned towards her and said, "Is this
sooth?" And she nodded her head and replied by signs, "Indeed, 'tis the
truth: for such is my tale and this is what hath befallen me." Now when
the old man had ceased speaking the Jinni shook with pleasure and gave
him the third of the merchant's blood. And Shahrazad perceived the dawn
of day and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth Dunyazad, "O. my
sister, how pleasant is thy tale, and how tasteful; how sweet and how
grateful!" She replied, "And what is this compared with that I could
tell thee, the night to come, if I live and the King spare me?"[FN#59]
Then thought the King, "By Allah, I will not slay her until I hear the
rest of her tale, for truly it is wondrous." So they rested that night
in mutual embrace until the dawn. After this the King went forth to his
Hall of Estate, and the Wazir and the troops came in and the court was
crowded, and the King gave orders and judged and appointed and deposed,
bidding and forbidding during the rest of the day. Then the Divan broke
up, and King Shahryar entered his palace.

When it was the Third Night,


And the King had had his will of the Wazir's daughter, Dunyazad, her
sister, said to her, "Finish for us that tale of thine;" and she
replied, "With joy and goodly gree! It hath reached me, O auspicious
King, that when the third old man told a tale to the Jinni more
wondrous than the two preceding, the Jinni marvelled with exceeding
marvel, and, shaking with delight, cried, Lo! I have given thee the
remainder of the merchant's punishment and for thy sake have I released
him." Thereupon the merchant embraced the old men and thanked them, and
these Shaykhs wished him joy on being saved and fared forth each one
for his own city. Yet this tale is not more wondrous than the
fisherman's story." Asked the King, "What is the fisherman's story?"
And she answered by relating the tale of




THE FISHERMAN AND THE JINNI.


It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that there was a Fisher man well
stricken in years who had a wife and three children, and withal was of
poor condition. Now it was his custom to cast his net every day four
times, and no more. On a day he went forth about noontide to the sea
shore, where he laid down his basket; and, tucking up his shirt and
plunging into the water, made a cast with his net and waited till it
settled to the bottom. Then he gathered the cords together and haled
away at it, but found it weighty; and however much he drew it
landwards, he could not pull it up; so he carried the ends ashore and
drove a stake into the ground and made the net fast to it. Then he
stripped and dived into the water all about the net, and left not off
working hard until he had brought it up. He rejoiced thereat and,
donning his clothes, went to the net, when he found in it a dead
jackass which had torn the meshes. Now when he saw it, he exclaimed in
his grief, "There is no Majesty, and there is no Might save in Allah
the Glorious, the Great!" Then quoth he, "This is a strange manner of
daily bread;" and he began re citing in extempore verse:—

O toiler through the glooms of night in peril and in pain * Thy toiling
stint for daily bread comes not by might and main!
Seest thou not the fisher seek afloat upon the sea * His bread, while
glimmer stars of night as set in tangled skein.
Anon he plungeth in despite the buffet of the waves * The while to
sight the bellying net his eager glances strain;
Till joying at the night's success, a fish he bringeth home * Whose
gullet by the hook of Fate was caught and cut in twain.
When buys that fish of him a man who spent the hours of night *
Reckless of cold and wet and gloom in ease and comfort fain,
Laud to the Lord who gives to this, to that denies his wishes * And
dooms one toil and catch the prey and other eat the fishes.[FN#60]


Then quoth he, "Up and to it; I am sure of His beneficence,
Inshallah!" So he continued:—

When thou art seized of Evil Fate, assume * The noble soul's long
suffering: 'tis thy best:
Complain not to the creature; this be plaint * From one most Ruthful to
the ruthlessest.


The Fisherman, when he had looked at the dead ass, got it free of the
toils and wrung out and spread his net; then he plunged into the sea,
saying, "In Allah's name!" and made a cast and pulled at it, but it
grew heavy and settled down more firmly than the first time. Now he
thought that there were fish in it, and he made it fast, and doffing
his clothes went into the water, and dived and haled until he drew it
up upon dry land. Then found he in it a large earthen pitcher which was
full of sand and mud; and seeing this he was greatly troubled and began
repeating these verses[FN#61]:—

Forbear, O troubles of the world, * And pardon an ye nill forbear:
I went to seek my daily bread * I find that breadless I must fare:
For neither handcraft brings me aught * Nor Fate allots to me a share:
How many fools the Pleiads reach * While darkness whelms the wise and
ware.


So he prayed pardon of Allah and, throwing away the jar, wrung his net
and cleansed it and returned to the sea the third time to cast his net
and waited till it had sunk. Then he pulled at it and found therein
potsherds and broken glass; whereupon he began to speak these verses:—

He is to thee that daily bread thou canst nor loose nor bind * Nor pen
nor writ avail thee aught thy daily bread to find:
For joy and daily bread are what Fate deigneth to allow; * This soil is
sad and sterile ground, while that makes glad the hind.
The shafts of Time and Life bear down full many a man of worth * While
bearing up to high degree wights of ignoble mind.
So come thou, Death! for verily life is not worth a straw * When low
the falcon falls withal the mallard wings the wind:
No wonder 'tis thou seest how the great of soul and mind * Are poor,
and many a losel carle to height of luck designed.
This bird shall overfly the world from east to furthest west * And that
shall win her every wish though ne'er she leave the nest.


Then raising his eyes heavenwards he said, "O my God![FN#62] verily
Thou wottest that I cast not my net each day save four times[FN#63];
the third is done and as yet Thou hast vouchsafed me nothing. So this
time, O my God, deign give me my daily bread." Then, having called on
Allah's name,[FN#64] he again threw his net and waited its sinking and
settling; whereupon he haled at it but could not draw it in for that it
was entangled at the bottom. He cried out in his vexation "There is no
Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah!" and he began reciting:—

Fie on this wretched world, an so it be * I must be whelmed by grief
and misery:
Tho' gladsome be man's lot when dawns the morn * He drains the cup of
woe ere eve he see:
Yet was I one of whom the world when asked * "Whose lot is happiest?"
oft would say "'Tis he!"


Thereupon he stripped and, diving down to the net, busied himself with
it till it came to land. Then he opened the meshes and found therein a
cucumber shaped jar of yellow copper,[FN#65] evidently full of
something, whose mouth was made fast with a leaden cap, stamped with
the seal ring of our Lord Sulayman son of David (Allah accept the
twain!). Seeing this the Fisherman rejoiced and said, "If I sell it in
the brass bazar 'tis worth ten golden dinars." He shook it and finding
it heavy continued, "Would to Heaven I knew what is herein. But I must
and will open it and look to its contents and store it in my bag and
sell it in the brass market." And taking out a knife he worked at the
lead till he had loosened it from the jar; then he laid the cup on the
ground and shook the vase to pour out whatever might be inside. He
found nothing in it; whereat he marvelled with an exceeding marvel. But
presently there came forth from the jar a smoke which spired
heavenwards into aether (whereat he again marvelled with mighty
marvel), and which trailed along earth's surface till presently, having
reached its full height, the thick vapour condensed, and became an
Ifrit, huge of bulk, whose crest touched the clouds while his feet were
on the ground. His head was as a dome, his hands like pitchforks, his
legs long as masts and his mouth big as a cave; his teeth were like
large stones, his nostrils ewers, his eyes two lamps and his look was
fierce and lowering. Now when the Fisherman saw the Ifrit his side
muscles quivered, his teeth chattered, his spittle dried up and he
became blind about what to do. Upon this the Ifrit looked at him and
cried, "There is no god but the God, and Sulayman is the prophet of
God;" presently adding, "O Apostle of Allah, slay me not; never again
will I gainsay thee in word nor sin against thee in deed."[FN#66] Quoth
the Fisherman, "O Marid,[FN#67] diddest thou say, Sulayman the Apostle
of Allah; and Sulayman is dead some thousand and eight hundred years
ago,[FN#68] and we are now in the last days of the world! What is thy
story, and what is thy account of thyself, and what is the cause of thy
entering into this cucurbit?" Now when the Evil Spirit heard the words
of the Fisher man, quoth he; "There is no god but the God: be of good
cheer, O Fisherman!" Quoth the Fisherman, "Why biddest thou me to be of
good cheer?" and he replied, "Because of thy having to die an ill death
in this very hour." Said the Fisherman, "Thou deservest for thy good
tidings the withdrawal of Heaven's protection, O thou distant
one![FN#69] Wherefore shouldest thou kill me and what thing have I done
to deserve death, I who freed thee from the jar, and saved thee from
the depths of the sea, and brought thee up on the dry land?" Replied
the Ifrit, "Ask of me only what mode of death thou wilt die, and by
what manner of slaughter shall I slay thee." Rejoined the Fisherman,
"What is my crime and wherefore such retribution?" Quoth the Ifrit,
"Hear my story, O Fisherman!" and he answered, "Say on, and be brief in
thy saying, for of very sooth my life breath is in my nostrils."[FN#70]
Thereupon quoth the Jinni, "Know, that I am one among the heretical
Jann and I sinned against Sulayman, David son (on the twain be peace!)
I together with the famous Sakhr al Jinni;"[FN#71] whereupon the
Prophet sent his minister, Asaf son of Barkhiya, to seize me; and this
Wazir brought me against my will and led me in bonds to him (I being
downcast despite my nose) and he placed me standing before him like a
suppliant. When Sulayman saw me, he took refuge with Allah and bade me
embrace the True Faith and obey his behests; but I refused, so sending
for this cucurbit[FN#72] he shut me up therein, and stopped it over
with lead whereon he impressed the Most High Name, and gave his orders
to the Jann who carried me off, and cast me into the midmost of the
ocean. There I abode an hundred years, during which I said in my heart,
"Whoso shall release me, him will I enrich for ever and ever." But the
full century went by and, when no one set me free, I entered upon the
second five score saying, "Whoso shall release me, for him I will open
the hoards of the earth." Still no one set me free and thus four
hundred years passed away. Then quoth I, "Whoso shall release me, for
him will I fulfil three wishes." Yet no one set me free. Thereupon I
waxed wroth with exceeding wrath and said to myself, "Whoso shall
release me from this time forth, him will I slay and I will give him
choice of what death he will die; and now, as thou hast released me, I
give thee full choice of deaths." The Fisherman, hearing the words of
the Ifrit, said, "O Allah! the wonder of it that I have not come to
free thee save in these days!" adding, "Spare my life, so Allah spare
thine; and slay me not, lest Allah set one to slay thee." Replied the
Contumacious One, "There is no help for it; die thou must; so ask me by
way of boon what manner of death thou wilt die." Albeit thus certified
the Fisherman again addressed the Ifrit saying, "Forgive me this my
death as a generous reward for having freed thee;" and the Ifrit,
"Surely I would not slay thee save on account of that same release." "O
Chief of the Ifrits," said the Fisherman, "I do thee good and thou
requitest me with evil! in very sooth the old saw lieth not when it
saith:—

We wrought them weal, they met our weal with ill; * Such, by my life!
is every bad man's labour:
To him who benefits unworthy wights * Shall hap what inapt to Ummi
Amir's neighbor.[FN#73]"


Now when the Ifrit heard these words he answered, "No more of this
talk, needs must I kill thee." Upon this the Fisherman said to himself,
"This is a Jinni; and I am a man to whom Allah hath given a passably
cunning wit, so I will now cast about to compass his destruction by my
contrivance and by mine intelligence; even as he took counsel only of
his malice and his frowardness."[FN#74] He began by asking the Ifrit,
"Hast thou indeed resolved to kill me?" and, receiving for all answer,
"Even so," he cried, "Now in the Most Great Name, graven on the seal
ring of Sulayman the Son of David (peace be with the holy twain!), an I
question thee on a certain matter wilt thou give me a true answer?" The
Ifrit replied "Yea;" but, hearing mention of the Most Great Name, his
wits were troubled and he said with trembling, "Ask and be brief."
Quoth the Fisherman, "How didst thou fit into this bottle which would
not hold thy hand; no, nor even thy foot, and how came it to be large
enough to contain the whole of thee?" Replied the Ifrit, "What! dost
not believe that I was all there?" and the Fisherman rejoined, "Nay! I
will never believe it until I see thee inside with my own eyes." And
Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted
say.

When it was the Fourth Night,


Her sister said to her, "Please finish us this tale, an thou be not
sleepy!" so she resumed:—It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that
when the Fisherman said to the Ifrit, "I will never and nowise believe
thee until I see thee inside it with mine own eyes;" the Evil Spirit on
the instant shook[FN#75] and became a vapour, which condensed, and
entered the jar little and little, till all was well inside when lo!
the Fisherman in hot haste took the leaden cap with the seal and
stoppered therewith the mouth of the jar and called out to the Ifrit,
saying, "Ask me by way of boon what death thou wilt die! By Allah, I
will throw thee into the sea[FN#76] before us and here will I build me
a lodge; and whoso cometh hither I will warn him against fishing and
will say:—In these waters abideth an Ifrit who giveth as a last favour
a choice of deaths and fashion of slaughter to the man who saveth him!"
Now when the Ifrit heard this from the Fisherman and saw him self in
limbo, he was minded to escape, but this was prevented by Solomon's
seal; so he knew that the Fisherman had cozened and outwitted him, and
he waxed lowly and submissive and began humbly to say, "I did but jest
with thee." But the other answered, "Thou liest, O vilest of the
Ifrits, and meanest and filthiest!" and he set off with the bottle for
the sea side; the Ifrit calling out "Nay! Nay!" and he calling out
"Aye! Aye !" There upon the Evil Spirit softened his voice and smoothed
his speech and abased himself, saying, "What wouldest thou do with me,
O Fisherman?" "I will throw thee back into the sea," he answered;
"where thou hast been housed and homed for a thousand and eight hundred
years; and now I will leave thee therein till Judgment day: did I not
say to thee:—Spare me and Allah shall spare thee; and slay me not lest
Allah slay thee? yet thou spurnedst my supplication and hadst no
intention save to deal ungraciously by me, and Allah hath now thrown
thee into my hands and I am cunninger than thou." Quoth the Ifrit,
"Open for me and I may bring thee weal." Quoth the Fisherman, "Thou
liest, thou accursed! my case with thee is that of the Wazir of King
Yunan with the sage Duban."[FN#77] "And who was the Wazir of King Yunan
and who was the sage Duban; and what was the story about them?" quoth
the Ifrit, whereupon the Fisherman began to tell




The Tale of the Wazir and the Sage Duban.


Know, O thou Ifrit, that in days of yore and in ages long gone before,
a King called Yunan reigned over the city of Fars of the land of the
Roum.[FN#78] He was a powerful ruler and a wealthy, who had armies and
guards and allies of all nations of men; but his body was afflicted
with a leprosy which leaches and men of science failed to heal. He
drank potions and he swallowed pow ders and he used unguents, but
naught did him good and none among the host of physicians availed to
procure him a cure. At last there came to his city a mighty healer of
men and one well stricken in years, the sage Duban hight. This man was
a reader of books, Greek, Persian, Roman, Arabian, and Syrian; and he
was skilled in astronomy and in leechcraft, the theorick as well as the
practick; he was experienced in all that healeth and that hurteth the
body; conversant with the virtues of every plant, grass and herb, and
their benefit and bane; and he understood philosophy and had compassed
the whole range of medical science and other branches of the knowledge
tree. Now this physician passed but few days in the city, ere he heard
of the King's malady and all his bodily sufferings through the leprosy
with which Allah had smitten him; and how all the doctors and wise men
had failed to heal him. Upon this he sat up through the night in deep
thought and, when broke the dawn and appeared the morn and light was
again born, and the Sun greeted the Good whose beauties the world
adorn,[FN#79] he donned his handsomest dress and going in to King
Yunan, he kissed the ground before him: then he prayed for the
endurance of his honour and prosperity in fairest language and made
himself known saying, "O King, tidings have reached I me of what befel
thee through that which is in thy person; and how the host of
physicians have proved themselves unavailing to abate it; and lo! I can
cure thee, O King; and yet will I not make thee drink of draught or
anoint thee with ointment." Now when King Yunan heard his words he said
in huge surprise, "How wilt thou do this? By Allah, if thou make me
whole I will enrich thee even to thy son's son and I will give thee
sumptuous gifts; and whatso thou wishest shall be thine and thou shalt
be to me a cup companion[FN#80] and a friend." The King then robed him
with a dress of honour and entreated him graciously and asked him,
"Canst thou indeed cure me of this complaint without drug and unguent?"
and he answered, "Yes! I will heal I thee without the pains and
penalties of medicine." The King marvelled with exceeding marvel and
said, "O physician, when shall be this whereof thou speakest, and in
how many days shall it take place? Haste thee, O my son!" He replied,"I
hear and I obey; the cure shall begin tomorrow." So saying he went
forth from the presence, and hired himself a house in the city for the
better storage of his books and scrolls, his medicines and his aromatic
roots. Then he set to work at choosing the fittest drugs and simples
and he fashioned a bat hollow within, and furnished with a handle
without, for which he made a ball; the two being prepared with
consummate art. On the next day when both were ready for use and wanted
nothing more, he went up to the King; and, kissing the ground between
his hands bade him ride forth on the parade ground[FN#81] there to play
at pall and mall. He was accompanied by his suite, Emirs and
Chamberlains, Wazirs and Lords of the realm and, ere he was seated, the
sage Duban came up to him, and handing him the bat said, "Take this
mall and grip it as I do; so! and now push for the plain and leaning
well over thy horse drive the ball with all thy might until thy palm be
moist and thy body perspire: then the medicine will penetrate through
thy palm and will permeate thy person. When thou hast done with playing
and thou feelest the effects of the medicine, return to thy palace, and
make the Ghusl-ablution[FN#82] in the Hammam bath, and lay thee down to
sleep; so shalt thou become whole; and now peace be with thee!"
Thereupon King Yunan took the bat from the Sage and grasped it firmly;
then, mounting steed, he drove the ball before him and gallopped after
it till he reached it, when he struck it with all his might, his palm
gripping the bat handle the while; and he ceased not malling the ball
till his hand waxed moist and his skin, perspiring, imbibed the
medicine from the wood. Then the sage Duban knew that the drugs had
penetrated his person and bade him return to the palace and enter the
Hammam without stay or delay; so King Yunan forthright returned and
ordered them to clear for him the bath. They did so, the carpet
spreaders making all haste, and the slaves all hurry and got ready a
change of raiment for the King. He entered the bath and made the total
ablution long and thoroughly; then donned his clothes within the Hammam
and rode therefrom to his palace where he lay him down and slept. Such
was the case with King Yunan, but as regards the sage Duban, he
returned home and slept as usual and when morning dawned he repaired to
the palace and craved audience. The King ordered him to be admitted;
then, having kissed the ground between his hands, in allusion to the
King he recited these couplets with solemn intonation:—

Happy is Eloquence when thou art named her sire * But mourns she whenas
other man the title claimed.
O Lord of fairest presence, whose illuming rays * Clear off the fogs of
doubt aye veiling deeds high famed,
Ne'er cease thy face to shine like Dawn and rise of Morn * And never
show Time's face with heat of ire inflamed!
Thy grace hath favoured us with gifts that worked such wise * As rain
clouds raining on the hills by wolds enframed:
Freely thou lavishedst thy wealth to rise on high * Till won from Time
the heights whereat thy grandeur aimed.


Now when the Sage ceased reciting, the King rose quickly to his feet
and fell on his neck; then, seating him by his side he bade dress him
in a sumptuous dress; for it had so happened that when the King left
the Hammam he looked on his body and saw no trace of leprosy: the skin
was all clean as virgin silver. He joyed thereat with exceeding joy,
his breast broadened[FN#83] with delight and he felt thoroughly happy.
Presently, when it was full day he entered his audience hall and sat
upon the throne of his kingship whereupon his Chamberlains and Grandees
flocked to the presence and with them the Sage Duban. Seeing the leach
the King rose to him in honour and seated him by his side; then the
food trays furnished with the daintiest viands were brought and the
physician ate with the King, nor did he cease companying him all that
day. Moreover, at nightfall he gave the physician Duban two thousand
gold pieces, besides the usual dress of honour and other gifts galore,
and sent him home on his own steed. After the Sage had fared forth King
Yunan again expressed his amazement at the leach's art, saying, "This
man medicined my body from without nor anointed me with aught of
ointments: by Allah, surely this is none other than consummate skill! I
am bound to honour such a man with rewards and distinction, and take
him to my companion and my friend during the remainder of my days." So
King Yunan passed the night in joy and gladness for that his body had
been made whole and had thrown off so pernicious a malady. On the
morrow the King went forth from his Serraglio and sat upon his throne,
and the Lords of Estate stood about him, and the Emirs and Wazirs sat
as was their wont on his right hand and on his left. Then he asked for
the Sage Duban, who came in and kissed the ground before him, when the
King rose to greet him and, seating him by his side, ate with him and
wished him long life. Moreover he robed him and gave him gifts, and
ceased not conversing with him until night approached. Then the King
ordered him, by way of salary, five dresses of honour and a thousand
dinars.[FN#84] The physician returned to his own house full of
gratitude to the King. Now when next morning dawned the King repaired
to his audience hall, and his Lords and Nobles surrounded him and his
Chamberlains and his Ministers, as the white encloseth the black of the
eye.[FN#85] Now the King had a Wazir among his Wazirs, unsightly to
look upon, an ill omened spectacle; sordid, ungenerous, full of envy
and evil will. When this Minister saw the King place the physician near
him and give him all these gifts, he jaloused him and planned to do him
a harm, as in the saying on such subject, "Envy lurks in every body;"
and the saying, "Oppression hideth in every heart: power revealeth it
and weakness concealeth it." Then the Minister came before the King
and, kissing the ground between his hands, said, "O King of the age and
of all time, thou in whose benefits I have grown to manhood, I have
weighty advice to offer thee, and if I withhold it I were a son of
adultery and no true born man; wherefore an thou order me to disclose
it I will so do forthwith." Quoth the King (and he was troubled at the
words of the Minister), "And what is this counsel of thine?" Quoth he,
"O glorious monarch, the wise of old have said:—Whoso regardeth not the
end, hath not Fortune to friend; and indeed I have lately seen the King
on far other than the right way; for he lavisheth largesse on his
enemy, on one whose object is the decline and fall of his kingship: to
this man he hath shown favour, honouring him with over honour and
making of him an intimate. Wherefore I fear for the King's life." The
King, who was much troubled and changed colour, asked, "Whom dost thou
suspect and anent whom doest thou hint?" and the Minister answered, "O
King, an thou be asleep, wake up! I point to the physician Duban."
Rejoined the King, "Fie upon thee! This is a true friend who is
favoured by me above all men, because he cured me with something which
I held in my hand, and he healed my leprosy which had baffled all
physicians; indeed he is one whose like may not be found in these
days—no, not in the whole world from furthest east to utmost west! And
it is of such a man thou sayest such hard sayings. Now from this day
forward I allot him a settled solde and allowances, every month a
thousand gold pieces; and, were I to share with him my realm 'twere but
a little matter. Perforce I must suspect that thou speakest on this
wise from mere envy and jealousy as they relate of the King
Sindibad."—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day, and ceased saying
her permitted say. Then quoth Dunyazad, "O my sister, how pleasant is
thy tale, and how tasteful, how sweet, and how grateful!" She replied,
"And where is this compared with what I could tell thee on the coming
night if the King deign spare my life?" Then said the King in himself,
"By Allah, I will not slay her until I hear the rest of her tale, for
truly it is wondrous." So they rested that night in mutual embrace
until the dawn. Then the King went forth to his Hall of Rule, and the
Wazir and the troops came in, and the audience chamber was thronged and
the King gave orders and judged and appointed and deposed and bade and
forbade during the rest of that day till the Court broke up, and King
Shahryar returned to his palace.

When It Was The Fifth Night,


Her sister said, "Do you finish for us thy story if thou be not
sleepy," and she resumed:—It hath reached me, O auspicious King and
mighty Monarch, that King Yunan said to his Minister, "O Wazir, thou
art one whom the evil spirit of envy hath possessed because of this
physician, and thou plottest for my putting him to death, after which I
should repent me full sorely, even as repented King Sindibad for
killing his falcon." Quoth the Wazir, Pardon me, O King of the age, how
was that?" So the King began the story of




King Sindibad and his Falcon.


It is said (but Allah is All knowing![FN#86]) that there was a King of
the Kings of Fars, who was fond of pleasuring and diversion, especially
coursing end hunting. He had reared a falcon which he carried all night
on his fist, and whenever he went a chasing he took with him this bird;
and he bade make for her a golden cuplet hung around her neck to give
her drink therefrom. One day as the King was sitting quietly in his
palace, behold, the high falconer of the household suddenly addressed
him, "O King of the age, this is indeed a day fit for birding." The
King gave orders accordingly and set out taking the hawk on fist; and
they fared merrily forwards till they made a Wady[FN#87] where they
planted a circle of nets for the chase; when lo! a gazelle came within
the toils and the King cried, "Whoso alloweth yon gazelle to spring
over his head and loseth her, that man will I surely slay." They
narrowed the nets about the gazelle when she drew near the King's
station; and, planting herself on her hind quarter, crossed her
forehand over her breast, as if about to kiss the earth before the
King. He bowed his brow low in acknowledgment to the beast; when she
bounded high over his head and took the way of the waste. Thereupon the
King turned towards his troops and seeing them winking and pointing at
him, he asked, "O Wazir, what are my men saying?" and the Minister
answered, "They say thou didst proclaim that whoso alloweth the gazelle
to spring over his head, that man shall be put to death." Quoth the
King, "Now, by the life of my head! I will follow her up till I bring
her back." So he set off gallopping on the gazelle's trail and gave not
over tracking till he reached the foot hills of a mountain chain where
the quarry made for a cave. Then the King cast off at it the falcon
which presently caught it up and, swooping down, drove her talons into
its eyes, bewildering and blinding it;[FN#88] and the King drew his
mace and struck a blow which rolled the game over. He then dismounted;
and, after cutting the antelope's throat and flaying the body, hung it
to the pommel of his saddle. Now the time was that of the siesta[FN#89]
and the wold was parched and dry, nor was any water to be found
anywhere; and the King thirsted and his horse also; so he went about
searching till he saw a tree dropping water, as it were melted butter,
from its boughs. Thereupon the King who wore gauntlets of skin to guard
him against poisons took the cup from the hawk's neck, and filling it
with the water set it before the bird, and lo! the falcon struck it
with her pounces and upset the liquid. The King filled it a second time
with the dripping drops, thinking his hawk was thirsty; but the bird
again struck at the cup with her talons and overturned it. Then the
King waxed wroth with the hawk and filling the cup a third time offered
it to his horse: but the hawk upset it with a flirt of wings. Quoth the
King, "Allah confound thee, thou unluckiest of flying things! thou
keepest me from drinking, and thou deprivest thyself also, and the
horse." So he struck the falcon with his sword and cut off her wing;
but the bird raised her head and said by signs, "Look at that which
hangeth on the tree!" The King lifted up his eyes accordingly and
caught sight of a brood of vipers, whose poison drops he mistook for
water; thereupon he repented him of having struck off his falcon's
wing, and mounting horse, fared on with the dead gazelle, till he
arrived at the camp, his starting place. He threw the quarry to the
cook saying, Take and broil it," and sat down on his chair, the falcon
being still on his fist when suddenly the bird gasped and died;
whereupon the King cried out in sorrow and remorse for having slain
that falcon which had saved his life. Now this is what occurred in the
case of King Sindibad; and I am assured that were I to do as thou
desirest I should repent even as the man who killed his parrot." Quoth
the Wazir, "And how was that?" And the King began to tell




The Tale of the Husband and the Parrot.[FN#90]


A certain man and a merchant to boot had married a fair wife, a woman
of perfect beauty and grace, symmetry and loveliness, of whom he was
mad-jealous, and who contrived successfully to keep him from travel. At
last an occasion compelling him to leave her, he went to the bird
market and bought him for one hundred gold pieces a she parrot which he
set in his house to act as duenna, expecting her to acquaint him on his
return with what had passed during the whole time of his absence; for
the bird was kenning and cunning and never forgot what she had seen and
heard. Now his fair wife had fallen in love with a young Turk, [FN#91]
who used to visit her, and she feasted him by day and lay with him by
night. When the man had made his journey and won his wish he came home;
and, at once causing the Parrot be brought to him, questioned her
concerning the conduct of his consort whilst he was in foreign parts.
Quoth she, "Thy wife hath a man friend who passed every night with her
during thine absence." Thereupon the husband went to his wife in a
violent rage and bashed her with a bashing severe enough to satisfy any
body. The woman, suspecting that one of the slave girls had been
tattling to the master, called them together and questioned them upon
their oaths, when all swore that they had kept the secret, but that the
Parrot had not, adding, "And we heard her with our own ears." Upon this
the woman bade one of the girls to set a hand mill under the cage and
grind therewith and a second to sprinkle water through the cage roof
and a third to run about, right and left, flashing a mirror of bright
steel through the livelong night. Next morning when the husband
returned home after being entertained by one of his friends, he bade
bring the Parrot before him and asked what had taken place whilst he
was away. "Pardon me, O my master," quoth the bird, "I could neither
hear nor see aught by reason of the exceeding murk and the thunder and
lightning which lasted throughout the night." As it happened to be the
summer tide the master was astounded and cried, "But we are now in mid
Tammuz,[FN#92] and this is not the time for rains and storms." "Ay, by
Allah," rejoined the bird, "I saw with these eyes what my tongue hath
told thee." Upon this the man, not knowing the case nor smoking the
plot, waxed exceeding wroth; and, holding that his wife had been
wrongously accused, put forth his hand and pulling the Parrot from her
cage dashed her upon the ground with such force that he killed her on
the spot. Some days afterwards one of his slave girls confessed to him
the whole truth,[FN#93] yet would he not believe it till he saw the
young Turk, his wife's lover, coming out of her chamber, when he bared
his blade [FN#94] and slew him by a blow on the back of the neck; and
he did the same by the adulteress; and thus the twain, laden with
mortal sin, went straightways to Eternal Fire. Then the merchant knew
that the Parrot had told him the truth anent all she had seen and he
mourned grievously for her loss, when mourning availed him not. The
Minister, hearing the words of King Yunan, rejoined, 'O Monarch, high
in dignity, and what harm have I done him, or what evil have I seen
from him that I should compass his death? I would not do this thing,
save to serve thee, and soon shalt thou sight that it is right; and if
thou accept my advice thou shalt be saved, otherwise thou shalt be
destroyed even as a certain Wazir who acted treacherously by the young
Prince." Asked the King, "How was that?" and the Minister thus began




The Tale of the Prince and the Ogress.


A certain King, who had a son over much given to hunting and coursing,
ordered one of his Wazirs to be in attendance upon him whithersoever he
might wend. One day the youth set out for the chase accompanied by his
father's Minister; and, as they jogged on together, a big wild beast
came in sight. Cried the Wazir to the King's son, "Up and at yon noble
quarry!" So the Prince followed it until he was lost to every eye and
the chase got away from him in the waste; whereby he was confused and
he knew not which way to turn, when lo! a damsel appeared ahead and she
was in tears. The King's son asked, "Who art thou?" and she answered,
"I am daughter to a King among the Kings of Hind, and I was travelling
with a caravan in the desert when drowsiness overcame me, and I fell
from my beast unwittingly whereby I am cut off from my people and sore
bewildered." The Prince, hearing these words, pitied her case and,
mounting her on his horse's crupper, travelled until he passed by an
old ruin [FN#95], when the damsel said to him, "O my master, I wish to
obey a call of nature": he therefore set her down at the ruin where she
delayed so long that the King's son thought that she was only wasting
time; so he followed her without her knowledge and behold, she was a
Ghulah,[FN#96] a wicked Ogress, who was saying to her brood, "O my
children, this day I bring you a fine fat youth, [FN#97] for dinner;"
whereto they answered, "Bring him quick to us, O our mother, that we
may browse upon him our bellies full." The Prince hearing their talk,
made sure of death and his side muscles quivered in fear for his life,
so he turned away and was about to fly. The Ghulah came out and seeing
him in sore affright (for he was trembling in every limb? cried,
"Wherefore art thou afraid?" and he replied, "I have hit upon an enemy
whom I greatly fear." Asked the Ghulah, "Diddest thou not say:—I am a
King's son?" and he answered, "Even so." Then quoth she, "Why dost not
give thine enemy something of money and so satisfy him?" Quoth he, "He
will not be satisfied with my purse but only with my life, and I
mortally fear him and am a man under oppression." She replied, "If thou
be so distressed, as thou deemest, ask aid against him from Allah, who
will surely protect thee from his ill doing and from the evil whereof
thou art afraid." Then the Prince raised his eyes heavenwards and
cried, "O Thou who answerest the necessitous when he calleth upon Thee
and dispellest his distress; O my God ! grant me victory over my foe
and turn him from me, for Thou over all things art Almighty." The
Ghulah, hearing his prayer, turned away from him, and the Prince
returned to his father, and told him the tale of the Wazir; whereupon
the King summoned the Minister to his presence and then and there slew
him. Thou likewise, O King, if thou continue to trust this leach, shalt
be made to die the worst of deaths. He verily thou madest much of and
whom thou entreatedest as an intimate, will work thy destruction. Seest
thou not how he healed the disease from outside thy body by something
grasped in thy hand? Be not assured that he will not destroy thee by
something held in like manner! Replied King Yunan, "Thou hast spoken
sooth, O Wazir, it may well be as thou hintest O my well advising
Minister; and belike this Sage hath come as a spy searching to put me
to death; for assuredly if he cured me by a something held in my hand,
he can kill me by a something given me to smell." Then asked King
Yunan, "O Minister, what must be done with him?" and the Wazir
answered, "Send after him this very instant and summon him to thy
presence; and when he shall come strike him across the neck; and thus
shalt thou rid thyself of him and his wickedness, and deceive him ere
he can deceive thee." 'Thou hast again spoken sooth, O Wazir," said the
King and sent one to call the Sage who came in joyful mood for he knew
not what had appointed for him the Compassionate; as a certain poet
saith by way of illustration:—

O Thou who fearest Fate, confiding fare * Trust all to Him who built
the world and wait:
What Fate saith "Be" perforce must be, my lord! * And safe art thou
from th’ undecreed of Fate.


As Duban the physician entered he addressed the King in these lines:—

An fail I of my thanks to thee nor thank thee day by day * For whom
composed I prose and verse, for whom my say and lay?
Thou lavishedst thy generous gifts ere they were craved by me * Thou
lavishedst thy boons unsought sans pretext or delay:
How shall I stint my praise of thee, how shall I cease to laud * The
grace of thee in secresy and patentest display?
Nay; I will thank thy benefits, for aye thy favours lie * Light on my
thought and tongue, though heavy on my back they weigh.


And he said further on the same theme:—

Turn thee from grief nor care a jot! * Commit thy needs to Fate and
Lot!
Enjoy the Present passing well * And let the Past be clean forgot
For whatso haply seemeth worse * Shall work thy weal as Allah wot
Allah shall do whate'er He wills * And in His will oppose Him not.


And further still.—

To th' All wise Subtle One trust worldly things * Rest thee from all
whereto the worldling clings:
Learn wisely well naught cometh by thy will * But e'en as willeth
Allah, King of Kings.


And lastly.—

Gladsome and gay forget thine every grief * Full often grief the wisest
hearts outwore:
Thought is but folly in the feeble slave * Shun it and so be saved
evermore.


Said the King for sole return, "Knowest thou why I have summoned thee?"
and the Sage replied, "Allah Most Highest alone kenneth hidden things!"
But the King rejoined, "I summoned thee only to take thy life and
utterly to destroy thee." Duban the Wise wondered at this strange
address with exceeding wonder and asked, "O King, and wherefore
wouldest thou slay me, and what ill have I done thee?" and the King
answered, "Men tell me thou art a spy sent hither with intent to slay
me; and lo! I will kill thee ere I be killed by thee;" then he called
to his Sworder, and said, "Strike me off the head of this traitor and
deliver us from his evil practices." Quoth the Sage, "Spare me and
Allah will spare thee; slay me not or Allah shall slay thee." And he
repeated to him these very words, even as I to thee, O Ifrit, and yet
thou wouldst not let me go, being bent upon my death. King Yunan only
rejoined, "I shall not be safe without slaying thee; for, as thou
healedst me by something held in hand, so am I not secure against thy
killing me by something given me to smell or otherwise." Said the
physician, "This then, O King, is thy requital and reward; thou
returnest only evil for good." The King replied, "There is no help for
it; die thou must and without delay." Now when the physician was
certified that the King would slay him without waiting, he wept and
regretted the good he had done to other than the good. As one hath said
on this subject:—

Of wit and wisdom is Maymunah[FN#98] bare * Whose sire in wisdom all
the wits outstrippeth:
Man may not tread on mud or dust or clay * Save by good sense, else
trippeth he and slippeth.


Hereupon the Sworder stepped forward and bound the Sage Duban's eyes
and bared his blade, saying to the King, "By thy leave;" while the
physician wept and cried, "Spare me and Allah will spare thee, and slay
me not or Allah shall slay thee," and began repeating:—

I was kind and 'scaped not, they were cruel and escaped; * And my
kindness only led me to Ruination Hall,
If I live I'll ne'er be kind; if I die, then all be damned * Who follow
me, and curses their kindliness befal.


"Is this," continued Duban, "the return I meet from thee? Thou givest
me, meseems, but crocodile boon." Quoth the King,"What is the tale of
the crocodile?", and quoth the physician, "Impossible for me to tell it
in this my state; Allah upon thee, spare me, as thou hopest Allah shall
spare thee." And he wept with exceeding weeping. Then one of the King's
favourites stood up and said, "O King! grant me the blood of this
physician; we have never seen him sin against thee, or doing aught save
healing thee from a disease which baffled every leach and man of
science." Said the King, "Ye wot not the cause of my putting to death
this physician, and this it is. If I spare him, I doom myself to
certain death; for one who healed me of such a malady by something held
in my hand, surely can slay me by something held to my nose; and I fear
lest he kill me for a price, since haply he is some spy whose sole
purpose in coming hither was to compass my destruction. So there is no
help for it; die he must, and then only shall I be sure of my own
life." Again cried Duban, "Spare me and Allah shall spare thee; and
slay me not or Allah shall slay thee." But it was in vain. Now when the
physician, O Ifrit, knew for certain that the King would kill him, he
said, "O King, if there be no help but I must die, grant me some little
delay that I may go down to my house and release myself from mine
obligations and direct my folk and my neighbours where to bury me and
distribute my books of medicine. Amongst these I have one, the rarest
of rarities, which I would present to thee as an offering: keep it as a
treasure in thy treasury." "And what is in the book?" asked the King
and the Sage answered, "Things beyond compt; and the least of secrets
is that if, directly after thou hast cut off my head, thou open three
leaves and read three lines of the page to thy left hand, my head shall
speak and answer every question thou deignest ask of it." The King
wondered with exceeding wonder and shaking[FN#99] with delight at the
novelty, said, "O physician, dost thou really tell me that when I cut
off thy head it will speak to me?" He replied, "Yes, O King!" Quoth the
King, "This is indeed a strange matter!" and forthwith sent him closely
guarded to his house, and Duban then and there settled all his
obligations. Next day he went up to the King's audience hall, where
Emirs and Wazirs, Chamberlains and Nabobs, Grandees and Lords of Estate
were gathered together, making the presence chamber gay as a garden of
flower beds. And lo! the physician came up and stood before the King,
bearing a worn old volume and a little etui of metal full of powder,
like that used for the eyes.[FN#100] Then he sat down and said, "Give
me a tray." So they brought him one and he poured the powder upon it
and levelled it and lastly spake as follows: "O King, take this book
but do not open it till my head falls; then set it upon this tray, and
bid press it down upon the powder, when forthright the blood will cease
flowing. That is the time to open the book." The King thereupon took
the book and made a sign to the Sworder, who arose and struck off the
physician's head, and placing it on the middle of the tray, pressed it
down upon the powder. The blood stopped flowing, and the Sage Duban
unclosed his eyes and said, "Now open the book, O King!" The King
opened the book, and found the leaves stuck together; so he put his
finger to his mouth and, by moistening it, he easily turned over the
first leaf, and in like way the second, and the third, each leaf
opening with much trouble; and when he had unstuck six leaves he looked
over them and, finding nothing written thereon, said, "O physician,
there is no writing here!" Duban re plied, "Turn over yet more;" and he
turned over three others in the same way. Now the book was poisoned;
and before long the venom penetrated his system, and he fell into
strong convulsions and he cried out, "The poison hath done its work!"
Whereupon the Sage Duban's head began to improvise:—

There be rulers who have ruled with a foul tyrannic sway * But they
soon became as though they had never, never been:
Just, they had won justice: they oppressed and were opprest * By
Fortune, who requited them with ban and bane and teen:
So they faded like the morn, and the tongue of things repeats * "Take
this for that, nor vent upon Fortune's ways thy spleen."


No sooner had the head ceased speaking than the King rolled over dead.
Now I would have thee know, O Ifrit, that if King Yunan had spared the
Sage Duban, Allah would have spared him, but he refused so to do and
decreed to do him dead, wherefore Allah slew him; and thou too, O
Ifrit, if thou hadst spared me, Allah would have spared thee. And
Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted
say: then quoth Dunyazad, "O my sister, how pleasant is thy tale, and
how tasteful; how sweet, and how grateful!" She replied, "And where is
this compared with what I could tell thee this coming night, if I live
and the King spare me?" Said the King in himself, "By Allah, I will not
slay her until I hear the rest of her story, for truly it is wondrous."
They rested that night in mutual embrace until dawn: then the King went
forth to his Darbar; the Wazirs and troops came in and the audience
hall was crowded; so the King gave orders and judged and appointed and
deposed and bade and forbade the rest of that day, when the court broke
up, and King Shahryar entered his palace,

When it was the Sixth Night,


Her sister, Dunyazad, said to her,"Pray finish for us thy story;" and
she answered, "I will if the King give me leave." "Say on," quoth the
King. And she continued:—It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that
when the Fisherman said to the Ifrit, "If thou hadst spared me I would
have spared thee, but nothing would satisfy thee save my death; so now
I will do thee die by jailing thee in this jar and I will hurl thee
into this sea." Then the Marid roared aloud and cried, "Allah upon
thee, O Fisherman, don't! Spare me, and pardon my past doings; and, as
I have been tyrannous, so be thou generous, for it is said among
sayings that go current:—O thou who doest good to him who hath done
thee evil, suffice for the ill doer his ill deeds, and do not deal with
me as did Umamah to 'Atikah."[FN#101] Asked the Fisherman, "And what
was their case?" and the Ifrit answered, "This is not the time for
story telling and I in this prison; but set me free and I will tell
thee the tale." Quoth the Fisherman, "Leave this language: there is no
help but that thou be thrown back into the sea nor is there any way for
thy getting out of it for ever and ever. Vainly I placed myself under
thy protection,[FN#102] and I humbled myself to thee with weeping,
while thou soughtest only to slay me, who had done thee no injury
deserving this at thy hands; nay, so far from injuring thee by any evil
act, I worked thee nought but weal in releasing thee from that jail of
thine. Now I knew thee to be an evil doer when thou diddest to me what
thou didst, and know, that when I have cast thee back into the sea, I
will warn whomsoever may fish thee up of what hath befallen me with
thee, and I will advise him to toss thee back again; so shalt thou
abide here under these waters till the End of Time shall make an end of
thee." But the Ifrit cried aloud, "Set me free; this is a noble
occasion for generosity and I make covenant with thee and vow never to
do thee hurt and harm; nay, I will help thee to what shall put thee out
of want." The Fisherman accepted his promises on both conditions, not
to trouble him as before, but on the contrary to do him service; and,
after making firm the plight and swearing him a solemn oath by Allah
Most Highest he opened the cucurbit. Thereupon the pillar of smoke rose
up till all of it was fully out; then it thickened and once more became
an Ifrit of hideous presence, who forthright administered a kick to the
bottle and sent it flying into the sea. The Fisherman, seeing how the
cucurbit was treated and making sure of his own death, piddled in his
clothes and said to himself, "This promiseth badly;" but he fortified
his heart, and cried, "O Ifrit, Allah hath said[FN#103]:—Perform your
covenant; for the performance of your covenant shall be inquired into
hereafter. Thou hast made a vow to me and hast sworn an oath not to
play me false lest Allah play thee false, for verily he is a jealous
God who respiteth the sinner, but letteth him not escape. I say to thee
as said the Sage Duban to King Yunan, "Spare me so Allah may spare
thee!" The Ifrit burst into laughter and stalked away, saying to the
Fisherman, "Follow me;" and the man paced after him at a safe distance
(for he was not assured of escape) till they had passed round the
suburbs of the city. Thence they struck into the uncultivated grounds,
and crossing them descended into a broad wilderness, and lo! in the
midst of it stood a mountain tarn. The Ifrit waded in to the middle and
again cried, "Follow me;" and when this was done he took his stand in
the centre and bade the man cast his net and catch his fish. The
Fisherman looked into the water and was much astonished to see therein
vari coloured fishes, white and red, blue and yellow; however he cast
his net and, hauling it in, saw that he had netted four fishes, one of
each colour. Thereat he rejoiced greatly and more when the Ifrit said
to him, "Carry these to the Sultan and set them in his presence; then
he will give thee what shall make thee a wealthy man; and now accept my
excuse, for by Allah at this time I wot none other way of benefiting
thee, inasmuch I have lain in this sea eighteen hundred years and have
not seen the face of the world save within this hour. But I would not
have thee fish here save once a day." The Ifrit then gave him Godspeed,
saying, Allah grant we meet again;"[FN#104] and struck the earth with
one foot, whereupon the ground clove asunder and swallowed him up. The
Fisherman, much marvelling at what had happened to him with the Ifrit,
took the fish and made for the city; and as soon as he reached home he
filled an earthen bowl with water and therein threw the fish which
began to struggle and wriggle about. Then he bore off the bowl upon his
head and repairing to the King's palace (even as the Ifrit had bidden
him) laid the fish before the presence; and the King wondered with
exceeding wonder at the sight, for never in his lifetime had' he seen
fishes like these in quality or in conformation. So he said, "Give
those fish to the stranger slave girl who now cooketh for us," meaning
the bond maiden whom the King of Roum had sent to him only three days
before, so that he had not yet made trial of her talents in the
dressing of meat. Thereupon the Wazir carried the fish to the cook and
bade her fry them[FN#105] saying, "O damsel, the King sendeth this say
to thee:—I have not treasured thee, O tear o' me! save for stress time
of me; approve, then, to us this day thy delicate handiwork and thy
savoury cooking; for this dish of fish is a present sent to the Sultan
and evidently a rarity." The Wazir, after he had carefully charged her,
returned to the King, who commanded him to give the Fisherman four
hundred dinars: he gave them accordingly, and the man took them to his
bosom and ran off home stumbling and falling and rising again and
deeming the whole thing to be a dream. However, he bought for his
family all they wanted and lastly he went to his wife in huge joy and
gladness. So far concerning him; but as regards the cookmaid, she took
the fish and cleansed them and set them in the frying pan, basting them
with oil till one side was dressed. Then she turned them over and,
behold, the kitchen wall crave asunder, and therefrom came a young
lady, fair of form, oval of face, perfect in grace, with eyelids which
Kohl lines enchase.[FN#106] Her dress was a silken head kerchief
fringed and tasseled with blue: a large ring hung from either ear; a
pair of bracelets adorned her wrists; rings with bezels of priceless
gems were on her fingers; and she hent in hand a long rod of rattan
cane which she thrust into the frying pan, saying, "O fish! O fish! be
ye constant to your covenant?" When the cookmaiden saw this apparition
she swooned away. The young lady repeated her words a second time and a
third time, and at last the fishes raised their heads from the pan, and
saying in articulate speech "Yes! Yes!" began with one voice to
recite:—

Come back and so will I! Keep faith and so will I! * And if ye fain
forsake, I'll requite till quits we cry!


After this the young lady upset the frying pan and went forth by the
way she came in and the kitchen wall closed upon her. When the cook
maiden recovered from her fainting fit, she saw the four fishes charred
black as charcoal, and crying out, "His staff brake in his first
bout,"[FN#107] she again fell swooning to the ground. Whilst she was in
this case the Wazir came for the fish and looking upon her as
insensible she lay, not knowing Sunday from Thursday, shoved her with
his foot and said, "Bring the fish for the Sultan!" Thereupon
recovering from her fainting fit she wept and informed him of her case
and all that had befallen her. The Wazir marvelled greatly and
exclaiming, "This is none other than a right strange matter!", he sent
after the Fisherman and said to him, "Thou, O Fisherman, must needs
fetch us four fishes like those thou broughtest before." Thereupon the
man repaired to the tarn and cast his net; and when he landed it, lo!
four fishes were therein exactly like the first. These he at once
carried to the Wazir, who went in with them to the cook maiden and
said, "Up with thee and fry these in my presence, that I may see this
business." The damsel arose and cleansed the fish, and set them in the
frying pan over the fire; however they remained there but a little
while ere the wall clave asunder and the young lady appeared, clad as
before and holding in hand the wand which she again thrust into the
frying pan, saying, "O fish! O fish! be ye constant to your olden
covenant?" And behold, the fish lifted their heads, and repeated "Yes!
Yes!" and recited this couplet:

Come back and so will I! Keep faith and so will I! * But if ye fain
forsake, I'll requite till quits we cry!


And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted
say.

When it was the Seventh Night,


She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the
fishes spoke, and the young lady upset the frying pan with her rod, and
went forth by the way she came and the wall closed up, the Wazir cried
out, "This is a thing not to be hidden from the King." So he went and
told him what had happened, where upon quoth the King, "There is no
help for it but that I see this with mine own eyes." Then he sent for
the Fisherman and commanded him to bring four other fish like the first
and to take with him three men as witnesses. The Fisherman at once
brought the fish: and the King, after ordering them to give him four
hundred gold pieces, turned to the Wazir and said, "Up and fry me the
fishes here before me!" The Minister, replying "To hear is to obey,"
bade bring the frying pan, threw therein the cleansed fish and set it
over the fire; when lo! the wall clave asunder, and out burst a black
slave like a huge rock or a remnant of the tribe Ad[FN#108] bearing in
hand a branch of a green tree; and he cried in loud and terrible tones,
"O fish! O fish! be ye all constant to your antique covenant?"
whereupon the fishes lifted their heads from the frying pan and said,
"Yes! Yes ! we be true to our vow;" and they again recited the couplet:

Come back and so will I! Keep faith and so will I! * But if ye fain
forsake, I'll requite till quits we cry!


Then the huge blackamoor approached the frying pan and upset it with
the branch and went forth by the way he came in. When he vanished from
their sight the King inspected the fish; and finding them all charred
black as charcoal, was utterly bewildered and said to the Wazir,
"Verily this is a matter whereanent silence cannot be kept, and as for
the fishes, assuredly some marvellous adventure connects with them." So
he bade bring the Fisherman and asked him, saying "Fie on thee, fellow!
whence came these fishes?" and he answered, "From a tarn between four
heights lying behind this mountain which is in sight of thy city."
Quoth the King, "How many days' march?" Quoth he, "O our lord the
Sultan, a walk of half hour." The King wondered and, straight way
ordering his men to march and horsemen to mount, led off the Fisherman
who went before as guide, privily damning the Ifrit. They fared on till
they had climbed the mountain and descended unto a great desert which
they had never seen during all their lives; and the Sultan and his
merry men marvelled much at the wold set in the midst of four
mountains, and the tarn and its fishes of four colours, red and white,
yellow and blue. The King stood fixed to the spot in wonderment and
asked his troops and all present, "Hath any one among you ever seen
this piece of water before now?" and all made answer, "O King of the
age never did we set eyes upon it during all our days." They also
questioned the oldest inhabitants they met, men well stricken in years,
but they replied, each and every, "A lakelet like this we never saw in
this place." Thereupon quoth the King, "By Allah I will neither return
to my capital nor sit upon the throne of my forbears till I learn the
truth about this tarn and the fish therein." He then ordered his men to
dismount and bivouac all around the mountain; which they did; and
summoning his Wazir, a Minister of much experience, sagacious, of
penetrating wit and well versed in affairs, said to him, "'Tis in my
mind to do a certain thing whereof I will inform thee; my heart telleth
me to fare forth alone this night and root out the mystery of this tarn
and its fishes. Do thou take thy seat at my tent door, and say to the
Emirs and Wazirs, the Nabobs and the Chamberlains, in fine to all who
ask thee:—The Sultan is ill at ease, and he hath ordered me to refuse
all admittance;[FN#109] and be careful thou let none know my design."
And the Wazir could not oppose him. Then the King changed his dress and
ornaments and, slinging his sword over his shoulder, took a path which
led up one of the mountains and marched for the rest of the night till
morning dawned; nor did he cease wayfaring till the heat was too much
for him. After his long walk he rested for a while, and then resumed
his march and fared on through the second night till dawn, when
suddenly there appeared a black point in the far distance. Hereat he
rejoiced and said to himself, "Haply some one here shall acquaint me
with the mystery of the tarn and its fishes." Presently drawing near
the dark object he found it a palace built of swart stone plated with
iron; and, while one leaf of the gate stood wide open, the other was
shut, The King's spirits rose high as he stood before the gate and
rapped a light rap; but hearing no answer he knocked a second knock and
a third; yet there came no sign. Then he knocked his loudest but still
no answer, so he said, "Doubtless 'tis empty." Thereupon he mustered up
resolution and boldly walked through the main gate into the great hall
and there cried out aloud, "Holla, ye people of the palace! I am a
stranger and a wayfarer; have you aught here of victual?" He repeated
his cry a second time and a third but still there came no reply; so
strengthening his heart and making up his mind he stalked through the
vestibule into the very middle of the palace and found no man in it.
Yet it was furnished with silken stuffs gold starred; and the hangings
were let down over the door ways. In the midst was a spacious court off
which set four open saloons each with its raised dais, saloon facing
saloon; a canopy shaded the court and in the centre was a jetting fount
with four figures of lions made of red gold, spouting from their mouths
water clear as pearls and diaphanous gems. Round about the palace birds
were let loose and over it stretched a net of golden wire, hindering
them from flying off; in brief there was everything but human beings.
The King marvelled mightily thereat, yet felt he sad at heart for that
he saw no one to give him account of the waste and its tarn, the
fishes, the mountains and the palace itself. Presently as he sat
between the doors in deep thought behold, there came a voice of lament,
as from a heart grief spent and he heard the voice chanting these
verses:—

I hid what I endured of him[FN#110] and yet it came to light, * And
nightly sleep mine eyelids fled and changed to sleepless night:
Oh world! Oh Fate! withhold thy hand and cease thy hurt and harm * Look
and behold my hapless sprite in colour and affright:
Wilt ne'er show ruth to highborn youth who lost him on the way * Of
Love, and fell from wealth and fame to lowest basest wight.
Jealous of Zephyr's breath was I as on your form he breathed * But
whenas Destiny descends she blindeth human sight[FN#111]
What shall the hapless archer do who when he fronts his foe * And bends
his bow to shoot the shaft shall find his string undight?
When cark and care so heavy bear on youth[FN#112] of generous soul *
How shall he 'scape his lot and where from Fate his place of flight?


Now when the Sultan heard the mournful voice he sprang to his feet;
and, following the sound, found a curtain let down over a chamber door.
He raised it and saw behind it a young man sitting upon a couch about a
cubit above the ground; and he fair to the sight, a well shaped wight,
with eloquence dight; his forehead was flower white, his cheek rosy
bright, and a mole on his cheek breadth like an ambergris mite; even as
the poet doth indite:—

A youth slim waisted from whose locks and brow * The world in blackness
and in light is set.
Throughout Creation's round no fairer show * No rarer sight thine eye
hath ever met:
A nut brown mole sits throned upon a cheek * Of rosiest red beneath an
eye of jet.[FN#113]


The King rejoiced and saluted him, but he remained sitting in his
caftan of silken stuff purfled with Egyptian gold and his crown studded
with gems of sorts; but his face was sad with the traces of sorrow. He
returned the royal salute in most courteous wise adding, "O my lord,
thy dignity demandeth my rising to thee; and my sole excuse is to crave
thy pardon."[FN#114] Quoth the King, "Thou art excused, O youth; so
look upon me as thy guest come hither on an especial object. I would
thou acquaint me with the secrets of this tarn and its fishes and of
this palace and thy loneliness therein and the cause of thy groaning
and wailing." When the young man heard these words he wept with sore
weeping;[FN#115] till his bosom was drenched with tears and began
reciting—

Say him who careless sleeps what while the shaft of Fortune flies * How
many cloth this shifting world lay low and raise to rise?
Although thine eye be sealed in sleep, sleep not th' Almighty's eyes *
And who hath found Time ever fair, or Fate in constant guise?


Then he sighed a long fetched sigh and recited:—

Confide thy case to Him, the Lord who made mankind; * Quit cark and
care and cultivate content of mind;
Ask not the Past or how or why it came to pass: * All human things by
Fate and Destiny were designed!


The King marvelled and asked him, "What maketh thee weep, O young man?"
and he answered, "How should I not weep, when this is my case!"
Thereupon he put out his hand and raised the skirt of his garment, when
lo! the lower half of him appeared stone down to his feet while from
his navel to the hair of his head he was man. The King, seeing this his
plight, grieved with sore grief and of his compassion cried, "Alack and
well away! in very sooth, O youth, thou heapest sorrow upon my sorrow.
I was minded to ask thee the mystery of the fishes only: whereas now I
am concerned to learn thy story as well as theirs. But there is no
Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the
Great![FN#116] Lose no time, O youth, but tell me forthright thy whole
tale." Quoth he, "Lend me thine ears, thy sight and thine insight;" and
quoth the King, "All are at thy service!" Thereupon the youth began,
"Right wondrous and marvellous is my case and that of these fishes; and
were it graven with gravers upon the eye corners it were a warner to
whoso would be warned." "How is that?" asked the King, and the young
man began to tell




The Tale of the Ensorcelled Prince.


Know then, O my lord, that whilome my sire was King of this city, and
his name was Mahmud, entitled Lord of the Black Islands, and owner of
what are now these four mountains. He ruled three score and ten years,
after which he went to the mercy of the Lord and I reigned as Sultan in
his stead. I took to wife my cousin, the daughter of my paternal
uncle,[FN#117] and she loved me with such abounding love that whenever
I was absent she ate not and she drank not until she saw me again. She
cohabited with me for five years till a certain day when she went forth
to the Hammam bath; and I bade the cook hasten to get ready all
requisites for our supper. And I entered this palace and lay down on
the bed where I was wont to sleep and bade two damsels to fan my face,
one sitting by my head and the other at my feet. But I was troubled and
made restless by my wife's absence and could not sleep; for although my
eyes were closed my mind and thoughts were wide awake. Presently I
heard the slave girl at my head say to her at my feet, "O Mas'udah, how
miserable is our master and how wasted in his youth and oh! the pity of
his being so betrayed by our mistress, the accursed whore!"[FN#118] The
other replied, "Yes indeed: Allah curse all faithless women and
adulterous; but the like of our master, with his fair gifts, deserveth
something better than this harlot who lieth abroad every night." Then
quoth she who sat by my head, "Is our lord dumb or fit only for
bubbling that he questioneth her not!" and quoth the other, "Fie on
thee! doth our lord know her ways or doth she allow him his choice?
Nay, more, doth she not drug every night the cup she giveth him to
drink before sleep time, and put Bhang[FN#119] into it? So he sleepeth
and wotteth not whither she goeth, nor what she doeth; but we know that
after giving him the drugged wine, she donneth her richest raiment and
perfumeth herself and then she fareth out from him to be away till
break of day; then she cometh to him, and burneth a pastile under his
nose and he awaketh from his deathlike sleep." When I heard the slave
girl's words, the light became black before my sight and I thought
night would never-fall. Presently the daughter of my uncle came from
the baths; and they set the table for us and we ate and sat together a
fair half hour quaffing our wine as was ever our wont. Then she called
for the particular wine I used to drink before sleeping and reached me
the cup; but, seeming to drink it according to my wont, I poured the
contents into my bosom; and, lying down, let her hear that I was
asleep. Then, behold, she cried, "Sleep out the night, and never wake
again: by Allah, I loathe thee and I loathe thy whole body, and my soul
turneth in disgust from cohabiting with thee; and I see not the moment
when Allah shall snatch away thy life!" Then she rose and donned her
fairest dress and perfumed her person and slung my sword over her
shoulder; and, opening the gates of the palace, went her ill way. I
rose and followed her as she left the palace and she threaded the
streets until she came to the city gate, where she spoke words I
understood not, and the padlocks dropped of themselves as if broken and
the gate leaves opened. She went forth (and I after her without her
noticing aught) till she came at last to the outlying mounds[FN#120]
and a reed fence built about a round roofed hut of mud bricks. As she
entered the door, I climbed upon the roof which commanded a view of the
interior, and lo! my fair cousin had gone in to a hideous negro slave
with his upper lip like the cover of a pot, and his lower like an open
pot; lips which might sweep up sand from the gravel-floor of the cot.
He was to boot a leper and a paralytic, lying upon a strew of sugar
cane trash and wrapped in an old blanket and the foulest rags and
tatters. She kissed the earth before him, and he raised his head so as
to see her and said, "Woe to thee! what call hadst thou to stay away
all this time? Here have been with me sundry of the black brethren, who
drank their wine and each had his young lady, and I was not content to
drink because of thine absence." Then she, "O my lord, my heart's love
and coolth of my eyes,[FN#121] knowest thou not that I am married to my
cousin whose very look I loathe, and hate myself when in his company?
And did not I fear for thy sake, I would not let a single sun arise
before making his city a ruined heap wherein raven should croak and
howlet hoot, and jackal and wolf harbour and loot; nay I had removed
its very stones to the back side of Mount Kaf." [FN#122] Rejoined the
slave, Thou liest, damn thee! Now I swear an oath by the valour and
honour of blackamoor men (and deem not our manliness to be ; the poor
manliness of white men), from today forth if thou stay away till this
hour, I will not keep company with thee nor will I glue my body with
thy body and strum and belly bump Dost play fast and loose with us,
thou cracked pot, that we may satisfy thy dirty lusts? stinkard! bitch!
vilest of the vile whites!" When I heard his words, and saw with my own
eyes what passed between these two wretches, the world waxed dark
before my face and my soul knew not in what place it was. But , my wife
humbly stood up weeping before and wheedling the slave, and saying, O
my beloved, and very fruit of my heart, there is none left to cheer me
but thy dear self; and, if thou cast me off who shall take me in, O my
beloved, O light of my eyes?" And she ceased not weeping and abasing
herself to him until he deigned be reconciled with her. Then was she
right glad and stood up and doffed her clothes, even to her petticoat
trousers, and said, "0 my master what hast thou here for thy handmaiden
to eat? Uncover the basin," he grumbled, "and thou shalt find at the
bottom the broiled bones of some rats we dined on, pick at them, and
then go to that slop pot where thou shalt find some leavings of beer
[FN#123] which thou mayest drink." So she ate and drank and washed her
hands, and went and lay down by the side of the slave, upon the cane
trash and, stripping herself stark naked, she crept in with him under
his foul coverlet and his rags and tatters. When I saw my wife, my
cousin, the daughter of my uncle, do this deed[FN#124] I clean lost my
wits, and climbing down from the roof, I entered and took the sword
which she had with her and drew it, determined to cut down the twain. I
first struck at the slave's neck and thought that the death decree had
fallen on him:"And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to
say her permitted say.

When it was the Eighth Night,


She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the young
ensorcelled Prince said to the King, "When I smote the slave with
intent to strike off his head, I thought that I had slain him; for he
groaned a loud hissing groan, but I had cut only the skin and flesh of
the gullet and the two arteries! It awoke the daughter of my uncle, so
I sheathed the sword and fared forth for the city; and, entering the
palace, lay upon my bed and slept till morning when my wife aroused me
and I saw that she had cut off her hair and had donned mourning
garments. Quoth she:—O son of my uncle, blame me not for what I do; it
hath just reached me that my mother is dead, and my father hath been
killed in holy war, and of my brothers one hath lost his life by a
snake sting and the other by falling down some precipice; and I can and
should do naught save weep and lament. When I heard her words I
refrained from all reproach and said only:—Do as thou list; I certainly
will not thwart thee. She continued sorrowing, weeping and wailing one
whole year from the beginning of its circle to the end, and when it was
finished she said to me.—I wish to build me in thy palace a tomb with a
cupola, which I will set apart for my mourning and will name the House
of Lamentations.[FN#125] Quoth I again:—Do as thou list! Then she
builded for herself a cenotaph wherein to mourn, and set on its centre
a dome under which showed a tomb like a Santon's sepulchre. Thither she
carried the slave and lodged him; but he was exceeding weak by reason
of his wound, and unable to do her love service; he could only drink
wine and from the day of his hurt he spake not a word, yet he lived on
because his appointed hour[FN#126] was not come. Every day, morning and
evening, my wife went to him and wept and wailed over him and gave him
wine and strong soups, and left not off doing after this manner a
second year; and I bore with her patiently and paid no heed to her. One
day, however, I went in to her unawares; and I found her weeping and
beating her face and crying:—Why art thou absent from my sight, O my
heart's delight? Speak to me, O my life; talk with me, O my love? Then
she recited these verses:—

For your love my patience fails and albeit you forget * I may not, nor
to other love my heart can make reply:
Bear my body, bear my soul wheresoever you may fare * And where you
pitch the camp let my body buried lie:
Cry my name above my grave, and an answer shall return * The moaning of
my bones responsive to your cry.[FN#127]


Then she recited, weeping bitterly the while:—

The day of my delight is the day when draw you near * And the day of
mine affright is the day you turn away:
Though I tremble through the night in my bitter dread of death * When I
hold you in my arms I am free from all affray


Once more she began reciting:—

Though a morn I may awake with all happiness in hand * Though the world
all be mine and like Kisra-kings[FN#128] I reign;
To me they had the worth of the winglet of the gnat * When I fail to
see thy form, when I look for thee in vain


When she had ended for a time her words and her weeping I said to her—O
my cousin, let this thy mourning suffice, for in pouring forth tears
there is little profit! Thwart me not, answered she, in aught I do, or
I will lay violent hands on myself! So I held my peace and left her to
go her own way; and she ceased not to cry and keen and indulge her
affliction for yet another year. At the end of the third year I waxed
aweary of this longsome mourning, and one day I happened to enter the
cenotaph when vexed and angry with some matter which had thwarted me,
and suddenly I heard her say:—O my lord, I never hear thee vouch safe a
single word to me! Why dost thou not answer me, O my master? and she
began reciting:—

O thou tomb! O, thou tomb! be his beauty set in shade? * Hast thou
darkened that countenance all sheeny as the noon?
O thou tomb! neither earth nor yet heaven art to me * Then how cometh
it in thee are conjoined my sun and moon?


When I heard such verses as these rage was heaped upon my rage I cried
out:—Well away! how long is this sorrow to last? and I began
repeating:—

O thou tomb! O thou tomb! be his horrors set in blight? * Hast thou
darkenèd his countenance that sickeneth the soul?
O thou tomb! neither cess pool nor pipkin art to me * Then how cometh
it in thee are conjoined soil and coal?


When she heard my words she sprang to her feet crying.—Fie upon thee,
thou cur! all this is of thy doings; thou hast wounded my heart s
darling and thereby worked me sore woe and thou hast wasted his youth
so that these three years he hath lain abed more dead than alive! In my
wrath I cried:—O thou foulest of harlots and filthiest of whores ever
futtered by negro slaves who are hired to have at thee![FN#129] Yes
indeed it was I who did this good deed; and snatching up my sword I
drew it and made at her to cut her down. But she laughed my words and
mine intent to scorn crying: To heel, hound that thou art! Alas[FN#130]
for the past which shall no more come to pass nor shall any one avail
the dead to raise. Allah hath indeed now given into my hand him who did
to me this thing, a deed that hath burned my heart with a fire which
died not and a flame which might not be quenched! Then she stood up;
and, pronouncing some words to me unintelligible, she said:— By virtue
of my egromancy become thou half stone and half man; whereupon I became
what thou seest, unable to rise or to sit, and neither dead nor alive.
Moreover she ensorcelled the city with all its streets and garths, and
she turned by her gramarye the four islands into four mountains around
the tarn whereof thou questionest me; and the citizens, who were of
four different faiths, Moslem, Nazarene, Jew and Magian, she
transformed by her enchantments into fishes; the Moslems are the white,
the Magians red, the Christians blue and the Jews yellow.[FN#131] And
every day she tortureth me and scourgeth me with an hundred stripes,
each of which draweth floods of blood and cutteth the skin of my
shoulders to strips; and lastly she clotheth my upper half with a hair
cloth and then throweth over them these robes." Hereupon the young man
again shed tears and began reciting:—

In patience, O my God, I endure my lot and fate; * I will bear at will
of Thee whatsoever be my state:
They oppress me; they torture me; they make my life a woe * Yet haply
Heaven's happiness shall compensate my strait:
Yea, straitened is my life by the bane and hate o' foes * But Mustafa
and Murtaza[FN#132] shall ope me Heaven's gate.


After this the Sultan turned towards the young Prince and said, "O
youth, thou hast removed one grief only to add another grief; but now,
O my friend, where is she; and where is the mausoleum wherein lieth the
wounded slave?" "The slave lieth under yon dome," quoth the young man,
"and she sitteth in the chamber fronting yonder door. And every day at
sunrise she cometh forth, and first strippeth me, and whippeth me with
an hundred strokes of the leathern scourge, and I weep and shriek; but
there is no power of motion in my lower limbs to keep her off me. After
ending her tormenting me she visiteth the slave, bringing him wine and
boiled meats. And to morrow at an early hour she will be here." Quoth
the King, "By Allah, O youth, I will assuredly do thee a good deed
which the world shall not willingly let die, and an act of derring do
which shall be chronicled long after I am dead and gone by." Then the
King sat him by the side of the young Prince and talked till nightfall,
when he lay down and slept; but, as soon as the false dawn[FN#133]
showed, he arose and doffing his outer garments[FN#134] bared his blade
and hastened to the place wherein lay the slave. Then was he ware of
lighted candles and lamps, and the perfume of incenses and unguents,
and directed by these, he made for the slave and struck him one stroke
killing him on the spot: after which he lifted him on his back and
threw him into a well that was in the palace. Presentry he returned
and, donning the slave's gear, lay down at length within the mausoleum
with the drawn sword laid close to and along his side. After an hour or
so the accursed witch came; and, first going to her husband, she
stripped off his clothes and, taking a whip, flogged him cruelly while
he cried out, "Ah! enough for me the case I am in! take pity on me, O
my cousin!' But she replied, "Didst thou take pity on me and spare the
life of my true love on whom I coated?" Then she drew the cilice over
his raw and bleeding skin and threw the robe upon all and went down to
the slave with a goblet of wine and a bowl of meat broth in her hands.
She entered under the dome weeping and wailing, "Well-away!" and
crying, "O my lord! speak a word to me! O my master! talk awhile with
me!" and began to recite these couplets.—

How long this harshness, this unlove, shall bide? * Suffice thee not
tear floods thou hast espied?
Thou dost prolong our parting purposely * And if wouldst please my foe,
thou'rt satisfied!


Then she wept again and said, "O my lord! speak to me, talk with me!"
The King lowered his voice and, twisting his tongue, spoke after the
fashion of the blackamoors and said "'lack! 'lack! there be no Ma'esty
and there be no Might save in Allauh, the Gloriose, the Great!" Now
when she heard these words she shouted for joy, and fell to the ground
fainting; and when her senses returned she asked, "O my lord, can it be
true that thou hast power of speech?" and the King making his voice
small and faint answered, "O my cuss! dost thou deserve that I talk to
thee and speak with thee?" "Why and wherefore?" rejoined she; and he
replied "The why is that all the livelong day thou tormentest thy
hubby; and he keeps calling on 'eaven for aid until sleep is strange to
me even from evenin' till mawnin', and he prays and damns, cussing us
two, me and thee, causing me disquiet and much bother: were this not
so, I should long ago have got my health; and it is this which prevents
my answering thee." Quoth she, "With thy leave I will release him from
what spell is on him;"and quoth the King, "Release him and let's have
some rest!" She cried, "To hear is to obey;" and, going from the
cenotaph to the palace, she took a metal bowl and filled it with water
and spake over it certain words which made the contents bubble and boil
as a cauldron seetheth over the fire. With this she sprinkled her
husband saying, "By virtue of the dread words I have spoken, if thou
becamest thus by my spells, come forth out of that form into thine own
former form." And lo and behold! the young man shook and trembled; then
he rose to his feet and, rejoicing at his deliverance, cried aloud, "I
testify that there is no god but the God, and in very truth Mohammed is
His Apostle, whom Allah bless and keep!" Then she said to him, "Go
forth and return not hither, for if thou do I will surely slay thee;"
screaming these words in his face. So he went from between her hands;
and she returned to the dome and, going down to the sepulchre, she
said, "O my lord, come forth to me that I may look upon thee and thy
goodliness!" The King replied in faint low words, "What[FN#135] thing
hast thou done? Thou hast rid me of the

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