Gutenberg · eo1.org

← catalogue

Alaeddin and the Enchanted Lamp

by unknown · English · Gutenberg #5100 · 394,602 chars · public domain (US)

The Project Gutenberg eBook of Alaeddin and the Enchanted Lamp
    
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States,
you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.

Title: Alaeddin and the Enchanted Lamp

Translator: John Payne


        
Release date: February 1, 2004 [eBook #5100]
                Most recently updated: March 23, 2009

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/5100

Credits: Produced by JC Byers, and David Widger


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALAEDDIN AND THE ENCHANTED LAMP ***




Produced by JC Byers





ALAEDDIN and the ENCHANTED LAMP;

Zein Ul Asnam and the King of the Jinn: Two Stories Done into English
from the Recently Discovered Arabic Text

By John Payne

London 1901




     To
     Captain Sir Richard Francis Burton, K.C.M.G.,
     H.B.M. CONSUL, TRIESTE.

     My Dear Burton,

     I give myself the pleasure of placing your name in the forefront
     of another and final volume of my translation of the Thousand and
     One Nights, which, if it have brought me no other good, has at
     least been the means of procuring me your friendship.

     Believe me,

     Yours always,

     John Payne.





        Twelve years this day,--a day of winter, dreary
      With drifting snows, when all the world seemed dead
        To Spring and hope,--it is since, worn and weary
           Of doubt within and strife without, I fled

          From the mean workday miseries of existence,
       From spites that slander and from hates that lie,
            Into the dreamland of the Orient distance
            Under the splendours of the Syrian sky,

         And in the enchanted realms of Eastern story,
           Far from the lovelessness of modern times,

           Garnered the rainbow-remnants of old glory
           That linger yet in those ancestral climes;

         And now, the tong task done, the journey over,
            From that far home of immemorial calms,
           Where, as a mirage, on the sky-marge hover
               The desert and its oases of palms,

          Lingering, I turn me back, with eyes reverted
             To this stepmother world of daily life,
          As one by some long pleasant dream deserted,
            That wakes anew to dull unlovely strife:

       Yet, if non' other weal the quest have wrought me.
               The long beloved labour now at end,
    This gift of gifts the untravelled East hath brought me,
            The knowledge of a new and valued friend.

5th Feb. 1889.






INTRODUCTION.

I.

The readers of my translation of the Book of the Thousand Nights and One
Night will remember that, in the terminal essay (1884) on the history
and character of the collection, I expressed my conviction that the
eleven (so-called) "interpolated" tales, [1] though, in my judgment,
genuine Oriental stories, had (with the exception of the Sleeper
Awakened and Aladdin) no connection with the original work, but had been
procured by Galland from various (as yet) unidentified sources, for the
purpose of supplying the deficiencies of the imperfect MS. of the Nights
from which he made his version. [2] My opinion as to these talcs has
now been completely confirmed by the recent discovery (by M. Zotenberg,
Keeper of Oriental MSS. in the Bibliotheque Nationale at Paris) of two
Arabic MSS. of the Nights, both containing three of the missing stories,
i.e. (1) Zeyn Alasnam, (3) The Sleeper Awakened and (4) Aladdin, and
by the publication (also by M. Zotenberg) of certain extracts from
Galland's diary, giving particulars of the circumstances under which
the "interpolated" tales were incorporated with his translation of the
Arabian Nights. The Arabic text of the Story of Aladdin, as given by the
completer and more authentic of the newly-discovered MSS., has recently
been made by M. Zotenberg the subject of a special publication, [3]
in the preface to which (an exhaustive bibliographical essay upon the
various Texts of the Thousand and One Nights, considered in relation to
Galland's translation) he gives, in addition to the extracts in question
from Galland's Diary, a detailed description of the two MSS. aforesaid,
the more interesting particulars of which I now proceed to abstract for
the benefit of my readers.



                              II.



The first MS. commences precisely where the third volume of Galland's
MS. ends, to wit, (see my Terminal essay, p. 265, note1) with the 281st
Night, in the middle of the story of Camaralzaman [4] and contains,
(inter alia) besides the continuation of this latter (which ends
with Night CCCXXIX), the stories of the Sleeper Awakened (Nights
CCCXXX-CCCC), Ganem (Nights CCCCXXVIII-CCCCLXX1V), Zeyn Alasnam (Nights
CCCCLXXV-CCCCXCI), Aladdin (Nights CCCCXCII-DLXIX) and three others
not found in Galland's version. The MS. ends in the middle of the 631st
night with the well-known Story of King Bekhtzad (Azadbekht) and his son
or the Ten Viziers, (which will be found translated in my "Tales from
the Arabic," Vol. I. pp. 61 et seq.) and contains, immediately after
Night CCCCXXVII and before the story of Ganem, a note in Arabic, of
which the following is a translation:

"The fourth volume of the wonders and marvels of the stories of the
Thousand Nights and One Night was finished by the hand of the humblest
of His' servants in the habit of a minister of religion (Kahin, lit.
a diviner, Cohen), the [Christian] priest Dionysius Shawish, a scion
(selil) of the College of the Romans (Greeks, Europeans or Franks, er
Roum), by name St. Athanasius, in Rome the Greatest [5] (or Greater, utsma,
fem. of aatsem, qu re Constantinople?) on the seven-and-twentieth of the
month Shubat (February) of the year one thousand seven hundred fourscore
and seven, [he being] then teacher of the Arabic tongue in the Library
of the Sultan, King of France, at Paris the Greatest."

From this somewhat incoherent note we may assume that the MS. was
written in the course of the year 1787 by the notorious Syrian
ecclesiastic Dom Denis Chavis, the accomplice of Cazotte in the
extraordinary literary atrocity shortly afterward perpetrated by the
latter under the name of a sequel or continuation of the Thousand and
One Nights [6] (v. Cabinet des Fees, vols. xxxviii--xli), [7] and in all
probability (cf. the mention in the above note of the first part, i.e.
Nights CCLXXXI-CCCCXXVII, as the fourth volume) to supply the place of
Galland's missing fourth volume for the Bibliotheque Royale; but there.
is nothing, except a general similarity of style and the occurrence
in the former of the rest of Camaralzaman and (though not in the same
order) of four of the tales supposed to have been contained in the
latter, to show that Dom Chavis made his copy from a text identical
with that used by the French savant. In the notes to his edition of the
Arabic text of Aladdin, M. Zotenberg gives a number of extracts from
this MS., from which it appears that it is written in a very vulgar
modern Syrian style and abounds in grammatical errors, inconsistencies
and incoherences of every description, to say nothing of the fact that
the Syrian ecclesiastic seems, with the characteristic want of taste
and presumption which might be expected from the joint-author of "Les
Veillees Persanes," to have, to a considerable extent, garbled the
original text by the introduction of modern European phrases and turns
of speech a la Galland. For the rest, the MS. contains no note or other
indication, on which we can found any opinion as to the source from
which the transcriber (or arranger) drew his materials; but it can
hardly be doubted, from internal evidence, that he had the command of
some genuine text of the Nights, similar to, if not identical with,
that of Galland, which he probably "arranged" to suit his own (and his
century's) distorted ideas of literary fitness. The discovery of the
interpolated tales contained in this MS. (which has thus presumably lain
unnoticed for a whole century, under, as one may say, the very noses of
the many students of Arabic literature who would have rejoiced in such a
find) has, by a curious freak of fortune, been delayed until our own day
in consequence of a singular mistake made by a former conservator of
the Paris Bibliotheque, the well-known Orientalist, M. Reinaud, who, in
drawing up the Catalogue of the Arabic MSS. in the collection described
(or rather misdescribed) it under the following heading:

"Supplement Arabe 1716. Thousand and One Nights, 3rd and 4th parts. This
volume begins with Night CCLXXXII and ends with Night DCXXXI. A copy in
the handwriting of Chavis. It is from this copy and in accordance with
the instructions (d'apres la indications) of this Syrian monk that
Cazotte composed (redigea) the Sequel to the Thousand and One Nights,
Cabinet des Fees, xxxvii et xl (should be tt. xxxviii-xli)."

It is of course evident that M. Reinaud had never read the MS. in
question nor that numbered 1723 in the Supplement Arabe, or he would at
once have recognized that the latter, though not in the handwriting of
the Syrian ecclesiastic, was that which served for the production of the
"Sequel" in question; but, superficial as was the mistake, it sufficed
to prevent the examination by students of the MS. No. 1716 and so
retarded the discovery of the Arabic originals of Aladdin and its
fellows till the acquisition (some two years ago) by the Bibliotheque
Nationale of another (and complete) MS. of the Thousand and One Nights,
which appears to have belonged to the celebrated Orientalist M. Caussin
de Perceval, although the latter could not have been acquainted with it
at the time (1806) he published his well-known edition and continuation
of Galland's translation, in the eighth and ninth volumes of which, by
the by, he gives a correct version of the tales so fearfully garbled by
Chavis and Cazotte in their so-called translation as well nigh to defy
recognition and to cause Orientalists in general to deny the possibility
of their having been derived from an Oriental source until the discovery
of the actual Arabic originals so barbarously maltreated [8]

This MS. is in the handwriting of of Sebbagh, the well-known Syrian
collaborator of Silvestre de Sacy, and is supposed to have been copied
by him at Paris between the years 1805 and 1810 for some European
Orientalist (probably de Perceval himself) from a Baghdad MS. of the
early part of the 18th century, of which it professes to be an exact
reproduction, as appears from a terminal note, of which the following is
a translation:

"And the finishing of it was in the first tenth (decade) of Jumada the
Latter [in the] year one thousand one hundred and fifteen of the Hegira
(October, 1703) in the handwriting of the neediest of the faithful [9]
unto God [10] the Most High, Ahmed ibn Mohammed et Teradi, in the city
of Baghdad, and he the Shafiy by sect and the Mosuli by birth and the
Baghdadi by sojourn, and indeed he wrote it for himself and set upon it
his seal, and God bless and keep our lord Mohammed and his companions!
Kebikej [11] (ter)."

This MS. contains the three "interpolated" tales aforesaid, i.e.
the Sleeper Awakened (Nights CCCXXXVII-LXXXVI), Zeyn Alasnam (Nights
CCCCXCVII-DXIII) and Aladdin (Nights DXIV-XCI), the last two bearing
traces of a Syrian origin, especially Aladdin, which is written in a
much commoner and looser style than Zeyn Alasnam. The two tales are
evidently the work of different authors, Zeyn Alasnam being incomparably
superior in style and correctness to Aladdin, which is defaced by all
kinds of vulgarisms and solecisms and seems, moreover, to have been less
correctly copied than the other. Nevertheless, the Sebbagh text is in
every respect preferable to that of Shawish (which appears to abound
in faults and errors of every kind, general and particular,) and M.
Zotenberg has, therefore, exercised a wise discretion in selecting the
former for publication.




                              III.



Perhaps the most noteworthy feature of M. Zorenberg's long and
interesting introduction is a series of extracts from the (as yet
unpublished) MS. Diary regularly kept by Galland, the last four volumes
(1708-15) of which are preserved in the Bibliotheque Nationale.
These extracts effectually settle the question of the origin of the
interpolated tales, as will be seen from the following abstract.

On the 25th March, 1709, Galland records having that day made the
acquaintance of a Maronite scholar, by name Youhenna Diab, [12] who
had been brought from Aleppo to Paris by Paul Lucas, the celebrated
traveller, and with whom he evidently at once broached the question
of the Nights, [13] probably complaining to him of the difficulty (or
rather impossibility) of obtaining a perfect copy of the work; whereupon
Hanna (as he always calls him) appears to have volunteered to help him
to fill the lacune by furnishing him with suitable Oriental stories for
translation in the same style as those already rendered by him and then
and there (says Galland) "told me some very fine Arabian tales, which
he promised to put into writing for me." There is no fresh entry on the
subject till May 5 following, when (says Galland) "The Maronite Hanna
finished telling me the tale of the Lamp." [14]

Hanna appears to have remained in Paris till the autumn of the year 1709
and during his stay, Galland's Diary records the communication by him to
the French savant of the following stories, afterwards included in the
ninth, tenth, eleventh and twelfth volumes of the latter's translation,
(as well as of several others which he probably intended to translate,
had he lived,) [15] i.e. (May 10, 1709) "Babe Abdalla" and "Sidi
Nouman," (May 13, 1709) "The Enchanted Horse," (May 22, 1709) "Prince
Ahmed and Pari Banou," (May 25, 1709) "The Two Sisters who envied their
younger Sister," (May 27, 1709) "All Baba and the Forty Thieves," (May
29, 1709) "Cogia Hassan Alhabbal" and (May 31, 1709) "Ali Cogia." The
Maronite seems to have left for the East in October, 1709, (Galland says
under date October 25, "Received this evening a letter from Hanna, who
writes me from Marseilles, under date the 17th, in Arabic, to the effect
that he had arrived there in good health,") but not without having
at least in part fulfilled his promise to put in writing the tales
communicated by him to Galland, as appears by the entry of November 3,
1710, "Began yesterday to read the Arabian story of the Lamp, which
had been written me in Arabic more than a year ago by the Maronite of
Damascus [16] whom M. Lucas brought with him, with a view to putting it
into French. Finished reading it this morning. Here is the title of this
tale, 'Story of Aladdin, son of a tailor, and that which befell him with
an African Magician on account of (or through) a lamp.'" (The Diary
adds that he began that evening to put his translation into writing and
finished it in the course of the ensuing fortnight.) And that of January
10, 1711, "Finished the translation of the tenth volume of the 1001
Nights after the Arabic text which I had from the hand (de la main) of
Hanna or Jean Dipi, [17] whom M. Lucas brought to France on his return
from his last journey in the Levant." The only other entry bearing upon
the question is that of August 24, 1711, in which Galland says, "Being
quit of my labours upon the translation etc. of the Koran, I read a part
of the Arabian Tales which the Maronite Hanna had told me and which I
had summarily reduced to writing, to see which of them I should select
to make up the eleventh volume of the Thousand and One Nights."

From these entries it appears beyond question that Galland received from
the Maronite Hanna, in the Spring and Summer of 1709, the Arabic text
of the stories of Aladdin, Baba Abdalla, Sidi Nouman and Cogia Hassan
Alhabbal, i.e. the whole of the tales included in his ninth and tenth
volumes (with the exception of The Sleeper Awakened, of which he does
not speak) and that he composed the five remaining tales contained
in his eleventh and twelfth volumes (i.e. Ali Baba, Ali Cogia, The
Enchanted Horse, Prince Ahmed and Pari Banou and The Two Sisters who
envied their younger Sister,) upon the details thereof taken down from
Hanna's lips and by the aid of copious summaries made at the time. These
entries in Galland's diary dispose, therefore, of the question of
the origin of the "interpolated" tales, with the exception (1) of The
Sleeper Awakened (with which we need not, for the present, concern
ourselves farther) and (2) of Nos. 1 and 2a and b, i.e. Zeyn Alasnam,
Codadad and his brothers and The Princess of Deryabar (forming, with
Ganem, his eighth volume), as to which Galland, as I pointed out in my
terminal essay (p. 264), cautions us, in a prefatory note to his ninth
volume, that these two stories form no part of the Thousand and
One Nights and that they had been inserted and printed without the
cognizance of the translator, who was unaware of the trick that had been
played him till after the actual publication of the volume, adding
that care would be taken to expunge the intrusive tales from the second
edition (which, however, was never done, Galland dying before the
republication and it being probably found that the stranger tales had
taken too firm a hold upon public favour to be sacrificed, as originally
proposed); and the invaluable Diary supplies the necessary supplemental
information as to their origin. "M. Petis de la Croix," says Galland
under date of January 17, 1710, "Professor and King's Reader of the
Arabic tongue, who did me the honour to visit me this morning, was
extremely surprised to see two of the Turkish [18] Tales of his
translation printed in the eighth volume of the 1001 Nights, which
I showed him, and that this should have been done without his
participation."

Petis de la Croix, a well-known Orientalist and traveller of the time,
published in the course of the same year (1710) the first volume of a
collection of Oriental stories, similar in form and character to the
1001 Nights, but divided into "Days" instead of "Nights" and called "The
Thousand and One Days, Persian Tales," the preface to which (ascribed
to Cazotte) alleges him to have translated the tales from a Persian work
called Hezar [o] Yek Roz, i.e. "The Thousand and One Days," the MS. of
which had in 1675 been communicated to the translator by a friend
of his, by name Mukhlis, (Cazotte styles him "the celebrated Dervish
Mocles, chief of the Soufis of Ispahan") during his sojourn in the
Persian capital. The preface goes on to state that Mukhlis had, in his
youth, translated into Persian certain Indian plays, which had been
translated into all the Oriental languages and of which a Turkish
version existed in the Bibliotheque Royale, under the title of Alfaraga
Badal-Schidda (i.e. El Ferej bad esh Shiddeh), which signified "Joy
after Affliction"; but that, wishing to give his work an original air,
he converted the aforesaid plays into tales. Cazotte's story of the
Indian plays savours somewhat of the cock and the bull and it is
probable that the Hezar o Yek Roz (which is not, to my knowledge,
extant) was not derived from so recondite a source, but was itself
either the original of the well-known Turkish collection or (perhaps) a
translation of the latter. At all events, Zeyn Alasnam, Codadad and the
Princess of Deryabar occur in a copy (cited by M. Zotenberg), belonging
to the Bibliotheque Nationale, of El Ferej bad esh Shidded (of which
they form the eighth, ninth and sixth stories respectively) and in a
practically identical form, except that in Galland's vol. viii. the two
latter stories are fused into one. Sir William Ouseley is said to have
brought from Persia a MS. copy of a portion of the Hezar o Yek Roz which
he describes as agreeing with the French version, but, in the absence
of documentary proof and in view of the fact that, notwithstanding the
unauthorized incorporation of three of the tales of his original with
Galland's Vol. viii, the published version of the Thousand and One Days
is apparently complete and shows no trace of the omission, I am inclined
to suspect Petis de la Croix of having invented the division into
Days, in order to imitate (and profit by the popularity of) his fellow
savant's version of the Thousand and One Nights. Galland's publisher was
doubtless also that of Petis de la Croix and in the latter capacity
had in hand a portion of the MS. of the 1001 Days, from which, no
doubt weary of waiting till Galland (who was now come to the end of
his genuine Arabic MS. of the 1001 Nights and was accordingly at a
standstill, till he met with Hanna,) should have procured fresh material
to complete the copy for his eighth volume, of which Ganem only was then
ready for publication, he seems to have selected (apparently on his own
responsibility, but, it must be admitted, with considerable taste and
judgment,) the three tales in question from the MS. of the 1001 Days, to
fill up the lacune. It does not appear whether he found Codadad and the
Princess of Deryabar arranged as one story ready to his hand or himself
performed (or procured to be performed) the process of fusion, which, in
any case, was executed by no unskilful hand. Be this as it may, Galland
was naturally excessively annoyed at the publisher's unceremonious
proceeding, so much so indeed as for a time to contemplate renouncing
the publication of the rest of the work, to spare himself (as he says
in his Diary, under date of Dec. 12, 1709) similar annoyances
(mortifications) to that which the printing of the eighth volume had
caused him. Indeed, the effect of this incident was to induce him, not
only to change his publisher, but to delay the publication of the next
volume (which, as we learn from the Diary, was ready for the press at
the end of November or the beginning of December, 1709) for a whole
year, at the end of which time (Diary, November 21, 1710) he made
arrangements with a new (and presumably more trustworthy) publisher, M.
Florentin de Laune, for the printing of Vol. ix.




                              IV.



Notwithstanding the discovery, as above set out, of three of the
doubtful tales, Zeyn Alasnam, Aladdin and The Sleeper Awakened, in two
MSS. (one at least undoubtedly authentic) of the Thousand Nights and
One Night, I am more than ever of opinion that none of the eleven
"interpolated" stories properly belongs to the original work, that is to
say, to the collection as first put into definite form somewhere about
the fourteenth century. [19] "The Sleeper Awakened" was identified by
the late Mr. Lane as a historical anecdote given by the historian El
Ishaki, who wrote in the first quarter of the seventeenth century, and
the frequent mention of coffee in both MSS. of Aladdin justifies us in
attributing the composition of the story to (at earliest) the sixteenth
century, whilst the modern vulgarisms in which they abound point to a
still later date. Zeyn Alasnam (in the Sebbagh MS. at least) is
written in a much purer and more scholarly style than Aladdin, but
its pre-existence in El Ferej bad esh Shiddeh (even if we treat as
apocryphal Petis de la Croix's account of the Hezar o Yek Roz) is
sufficient, in the absence of contrary evidence, to justify us in
refusing to consider it as belonging to the Thousand Nights and One
Night proper. As shown by Galland's own experience, complete copies
of the genuine work were rarely to be met with, collections of "silly
stories" (as the Oriental savant, who inclines to regard nothing in the
way of literature save theology, grammar and poetry, would style them),
being generally considered by the Arab bibliographer undeserving of
record or preservation, and the fragmentary copies which existed were
mostly in the hands of professional story-tellers, who were extremely
unwilling to part with them, looking upon them as their stock in trade,
and were in the habit of incorporating with the genuine text all kinds
of stories and anecdotes from other sources, to fill the place of the
missing portions of the original work. This process of addition
and incorporation, which has been in progress ever since the first
collection of the Nights into one distinct work and is doubtless still
going on in Oriental countries, (especially such as are least in contact
with European influence,) may account for the heterogeneous character
of the various modern MSS. of the Nights and for the immense difference
which exists between the several texts, as well in actual contents as in
the details and diction of such stories as are common to all. The Tunis
MS. of the 1001 Nights (which is preserved in the Breslau University
Library and which formed the principal foundation of Habicht's Edition
of the Arabic text) affords a striking example of this process, which we
are here enabled to see in mid-operation, the greater part of the tales
of which it consists having not yet been adapted to the framework of
the Nights. It is dated A.H. 1144 (A.D. 1732) and of the ten volumes of
which it consists, i, ii (Nights I--CCL) and x (Nights DCCCLXXXV-MI) are
alone divided into Nights, the division of the remaining seven volumes
(i.e. iii--ix, containing, inter alia, the Story of the Sleeper
Awakened) being the work of the German editor. It is my belief,
therefore, that the three "interpolated" tales identified as forming
part of the Baghdad MS. of 1703 are comparatively modern stories added
to the genuine text by Rawis (story-tellers) or professional writers
employed by them, and I see no reason to doubt that we shall yet
discover the Arabic text of the remaining eight, either in Hanna's
version (as written down for Galland) or in some as yet unexamined MS.
of the Nights or other work of like character.




                               V.



M. Zotenberg has, with great judgment, taken as his standard for
publication the text of Aladdin given by the Sebbagh MS., inasmuch as
the Shawish MS. (besides being, as appears from the extracts given. [20]
far inferior both in style and general correctness,) is shown by the
editor to be full of modern European phrases and turns of speech and
to present so many suspicious peculiarities that it would be difficult,
having regard, moreover, to the doubtful character and reputation of the
Syrian monkish adventurer who styled himself Dom Denis Chavis, to resist
the conviction that his MS. was a forgery, i.e. professedly a copy of a
genuine Arabic text, but in reality only a translation or paraphrase in
that language of Galland's version,--were it not that the Baghdad MS.
(dated before the commencement, in 1704, of Galland's publication
and transcribed by a man--Mikhail Sebbagh--whose reputation, as a
collaborator of Silvestre de Sacy and other distinguished Orientalists,
is a sufficient voucher for the authenticity of the copy in the
Bibliotheque Nationale,) contains a text essentially identical with that
of Shawish. Moreover, it is evident, from a comparison with Galland's
rendering and making allowance for the latter's system of translation,
that the Arabic version of Aladdin given him by Hanna must either
have been derived from the Baghdad text or from some other practically
identical source, and it is therefore probable that Shawish, having
apparently been employed to make up the missing portion of Galland's
Arabic text and not having the Hanna MS. at his command, had (with
the execrable taste and want of literary morality which distinguished
Cazotte's monkish coadjutor) endeavoured to bring his available text
up to what he considered the requisite standard by modernizing and
Gallicizing its wording and (in particular) introducing numerous
European phrases and turns of speech in imitation of the French
translator. The whole question is, of course, as yet a matter of more
or less probable hypothesis, and so it must remain until further
discoveries and especially until the reappearance of Galland's missing
text, which I am convinced must exist in some shape or other and cannot
much longer, in the face of the revived interest awakened in the matter
and the systematic process of investigation now likely to be employed,
elude research.

M. Zotenberg's publication having been confined to the text of Aladdin,
I have to thank my friend Sir R. F. Burton for the loan of his MS. copy
of Zeyn Alasnam, (the Arabic text of which still remains unpublished) as
transcribed by M. Houdas from the Sebbagh MS.





ZEIN UL ASNAM AND THE KING OF THE JINN.



There [21] was [once] in the city of Bassora a mighty Sultan and he was
exceeding rich, but he had no child who should be his successor [22]
after him. For this he grieved sore and fell to bestowing alms galore
upon the poor and the needy and upon the friends [23] of God and the
devout, seeking their intercession with God the Most High, so He to whom
belong might and majesty should of His favour vouchsafe him a son. And
God accepted his prayer, for his fostering of the poor, and answered his
petition; so that one night of the nights he lay with the queen and she
went from him with child. When the Sultan knew this, he rejoiced with
an exceeding joy, and as the time of her child-bearing drew nigh, he
assembled all the astrologers and those who smote the sand [24] and said
to them, "It is my will that ye enquire concerning the child that shall
be born to me this month, whether it will be male or female, and tell me
what will betide it of chances and what will proceed from it." [25] So
the geomancers smote their [tables of] sand and the astrologers took
their altitudes [26] and observed the star of the babe [un]born and said
to the Sultan, "O King of the age and lord of the time and the tide, the
child that shall be born to thee of the queen is a male and it beseemeth
that thou name him Zein ul Asnam." [27] And as for those who smote upon
the sand, they said to him, "Know, O King, that this babe will become
a renowned brave, [28] but he shall happen in his time upon certain
travail and tribulation; yet, an he endure with fortitude against that
which shall befall him, he shall become the richest of the kings of the
world." And the King said to them, "Since the babe shall become valiant
as ye avouch, the toil and travail which will befall him are nought, for
that tribulations teach the sons of kings."

Accordingly, after a few days, the queen gave birth to a male child,
extolled be the perfection of Him who created him surpassing in grace
and goodliness! His father named him Zein ul Asnam, and he was as say of
him certain of his praisers [29] in verse: [30]

 He shows and "Now Allah be blessed!" men say: "Extol we his Maker
      and Fashioner aye!
 The king of the fair [31] this is, sure, one and all; Ay, his thralls,
      every one, and his liegemen are they."

The boy grew and flourished till he came to the age of five [32] years,
when his father the Sultan assigned him a governor skilled and versed
in all sciences and philosophies, and he proceeded to teach him till he
excelled in all manner of knowledge and became a young man. [33]
Then the Sultan bade bring him before himself, and assembling all the
grandees of his realm and the chiefs of his subjects, proceeded to
admonish him before them, saying to him, "O my son Zein ul Asnam,
behold, I am grown stricken in years and am presently sick; and belike
this sickness will be the last of my life in this world and thou shalt
sit in my stead; [wherefore I desire to admonish thee]. Beware, O my
son, lest thou oppress any or turn a deaf ear to the complaining of the
poor; but do thou justify the oppressed after the measure of thy might.
And look thou believe not all that shall be said to thee by the great
ones of the people, but trust thou still for the most part to the voice
of the common folk; for the great will deceive thee, seeing they seek
that which befitteth themselves, not that which befitteth the subject."
Then, after a few days, the Sultan's sickness redoubled on him and he
accomplished his term and died; and as for his son Zein ul Asnam, he
arose and donning the raiment of woe, [mourned] for his father the space
of six days. On the seventh day he arose and going forth to the Divan,
sat down on the throne of the sultanate and held a court, wherein was a
great assemblage of the folk, [34] and the viziers came forward and the
grandees of the realm and condoled with him for his father and called
down blessings upon him and gave him joy of the kingship and the
sultanate, beseeching God to grant him continuance of glory and
prosperity without end.

When [35] Zein ul Asnam saw himself in this great might and wealth, and
he young in years, he inclined unto prodigality and to the converse
of springalds like himself and fell to squandering vast sums upon his
pleasures and left governance and concern for his subjects. The queen
his mother proceeded to admonish him and to forbid him from his ill
fashions, bidding him leave that manner of life and apply himself
governance and administration and the ordinance of the realm, lest the
folk reject him and rise up against him and expel [36] hira; but he
would hear not a word from her and abode in his ignorance and folly.
At this the people murmured, for that the grandees of the realm put out
their hands unto oppression, whenas they saw the king's lack of concern
for his subjects; so they rose up in rebellion against Zein ul Asnam
and would have laid violent hands upon him, had not the queen his mother
been a woman of wit and judgment and address, and the people loved her;
so she appeased the folk and promised them good. Then she called her son
Zein ul Asnam to her and said to him, "See, O my son; said I not to
thee that thou wouldest lose thy kingship and eke thy life, an thou
persistedst in this thine ignorance and folly, in that thou givest the
ordinance of the sultanate into the hands of raw youths and eschewest
the old and wastest thy substance and that of the realm, squandering it
all upon lewdness and the lust of thy soul?"

Zein ul Asnam hearkened to his mother's rede and going out forthright to
the Divan, committed the manage of the realm into the hands of certain
old men of understanding and experience; save that he did this only
after Bassora had been ruined, inasmuch as he turned not from his folly
till he had spent and squandered all the treasures of the sultanate and
was become exceeding poor. Then he betook himself to repentance and to
sorrowing over that which he had done, [37] so that he lost the solace
of sleep and eschewed meat and drink, till one night of the nights,--and
indeed he had spent it in mourning and lamentation and melancholy
thought until the last of the night,--his eyes closed for a little and
there appeared to him in his sleep a venerable old man, who said to him,
"O Zein ul Asnam, grieve not, for that nought followeth after grief save
relief from stress, and an thou desire to be delivered from this
thine affliction, arise and betake thee to Cairo, where thou wilt find
treasuries of wealth which shall stand thee in stead of that thou hast
squandered, ay, and twofold the sum thereof." When he awoke from his
sleep, he acquainted his mother with all that he had seen in his dream,
and she fell to laughing at him; but he said to her, "Laugh not, for
needs must I journey to Cairo." "O my son," answered she, "put not
thy trust in dreams, for that they are all vain fancies and lying
imaginations." And he said to her, "Nay, my dream was a true one and
the man whom I saw is of the Friends of God [38] and his speech is very
sooth."

Accordingly, he left the sultanate and going forth a-journeying one
night of the nights, took the road to Egypt [and fared on] days and
nights till he came to the city of Cairo. So he entered it and saw it a
great and magnificent city; then, being perished for weariness, he took
shelter in one of its mosques. When he had rested awhile, he went forth
and bought him somewhat to eat; and after he had eaten, he fell asleep
in the mosque, of the excess of his weariness, nor had he slept but a
little when the old man appeared to him in his sleep and said to him, "O
Zein ul Assam, [39] thou hast done as I said to thee, and indeed I made
proof of thee, that I might see an thou wert valiant or not; but now
I know thee, inasmuch as thou hast put faith in my rede and hast done
according thereto. So now return to thine own city and I will make thee
a king rich after such a measure that neither before thee nor after thee
shall [any] of the kings be like unto thee." So Zein ul Asnam arose
from his sleep and said, "In the name of God the Compassionate, the
Merciful! What is this old man who hath wearier me, so that I came
to Cairo, [40] and I trusted in him and deemed of him that he was the
Prophet (whom God bless and keep) or one of the pious Friends of God?
But there is no power and no virtue save in God the Most High, the
Supreme. By Allah. I did well in that I acquainted none with my sallying
forth neither related my dream unto any! [41] Indeed. I believed in
this old man and meseemed by that which appeared to me, he was none of
mankind, [42] extolled be His perfection and magnified be He who [alone]
knoweth the truth! By Allah, I will leave trusting in this old man
[neither will I comply with him] in that which he would have me do!"
Accordingly, he lay [the rest of] that night [in the mosque] and at
daybreak he arose and mounting his courser, set out on his return to
Bassora, [the seat of] his kingship, where, after a few days, he arrived
and went in that same night to his mother, who asked him if aught had
befallen him of that which the old man had promised him. He acquainted
her with that which he had seen [in his sleep] and she fell to condoling
with him and comforting him, saying, "Grieve not, O my son, for, an God
the Most High have appointed thee aught of [good] fortune, thou wilt
attain thereto without either travail or toil; but I would have thee
be understanding and discreet and leave these things which have brought
thee to poverty, O my son, and eschew singing-wenches and the commerce
of youths and women; all this is for the baser sort, not for kings' sons
like thee." And he swore to her that he would never more gainsay her
commandment, but would observe all that she should say to him and
would turn his mind to the governance and the kingship and leave that
wherefrom she forbade him. Then he slept that night and what while he
was on sleep, the old man appeared to him and said to him, "O Zein ul
Asnam, O valiant one, whenas thou arisest from thy sleep this day, I
will accomplish my promise to thee; wherefore take thou a pickaxe and
go to the palace of thy father Such-an-one [43] in such a place and dig
there in the earth and thou wilt find that which shall enrich thee."

When Zein ul Asnam awoke from his sleep, he hastened to his mother,
rejoicing, and acquainted her with his dream; whereupon she fell again
to laughing at him and said to him, "O my son, indeed this old man
laugheth at thee, nought else; wherefore do thou turn thy thought from
him." But he said to her, "Nay, mother mine, indeed he is soothfast and
lieth not; for that, in the first of his dealing, he tried me and
now his intent is to accomplish unto me his promise." "In any case,"
rejoined she, "the thing is not toilsome; [44] so do that which thou
wilt, even as he said to thee, and make proof of the matter, and God
willing, thou shalt [45] return to me rejoicing; but methinketh thou
wilt return to me and say, 'Thou saidst sooth, O my mother, in thy
rede."' The prince accordingly took a pickaxe and going down to the
palace where his father was buried, fell a-delving in the earth; nor had
he dug long when, behold, there appeared to him a ring fixed in a slab
of marble. He raised the slab and seeing a stair, descended thereby and
found a great vault, all builded with columns of marble and alabaster;
then, proceeding innerward, he found within the vault a hall which
ravished the wit, and therein eight jars of green jasper; [46] and he
said, "What be these jars and what is in them?" So [47] he went up and
uncovering them, found them all full of old gold; [48] whereupon he took
a little in his hand and going to his mother, gave her thereof and said
to her, "Thou seest, O my mother." She marvelled at this thing and
said to him, "Beware, O my son, lest thou squander it, like as thou
squanderedst other than this." And he swore to her, saying, "Be not
concerned, O my mother, and let not thy heart be other than easy on my
account, for I would fain have thee also content with me." [49]

Then she arose and went with him, and they descended into the vault
and entered the [underground] hall, [50] where she beheld that which
ravished the wit and saw the jars of gold. What while they diverted
themselves with gazing upon these latter, behold, they espied a little
jar of fine jade; so Zein ul Asnam opened it and found in it a golden
key. Whereupon quoth his mother to him, "O my son, needs must there be
a door here which this key will open." Accordingly they sought in all
parts of the vault and the hall, so they might see an there were a door
or what not else to be found there, and presently espied a bolted lock,
to which they knew that this must be the key. So Zein ul Asnam went
up and putting the key in the lock, turned it and opened a door which
admitted them into a second hall, [51] more magnificent than the first;
and it was all full of a light which dazzled the sight, yet was there
no flambeau kindled therein, no, nor any window [52] there, whereat
they marvelled and looking farther, saw eight images of jewels, each one
piece, and that of noble jewels, pure and precious.

Zein ul Asnam was amazed at this and said to his mother, "How came my
father by these things?" And they fell to looking and considering, till
presently the queen espied a curtain of silk, whereon were these words
written: "O my son, marvel not at these great riches, whereto I have won
by dint of sore travail; but know that there existeth also another image
whose worth is more than that of these [eight] images twenty times told.
Wherefore, an thou wouldst come thereby, get thee to Cairo, where thou
wilt find a slave of mine, by name Mubarek, who will take thee and bring
thee in company [53] with the ninth image. When thou enterest Cairo, the
first man whom thou encounterest will direct thee to Mubarek's house,
for he is known in all Egypt." [54] When Zein ul Asnam read this
inscription, he said, "O my mother, it is my wish to journey to Cairo,
so I may make search for the ninth image. Tell me, how deemest thou of
my dream? Was it true or was it not? Wilt thou still say [55] to me,
'These be idle tales'? But I, O my mother, needs must I journey to
Cairo." "O my son," answered the queen, "since thou art under the
safeguard of the Apostle of God [56] (whom God bless and keep), go thou
in peace, and I [and] thy Vizier, we will govern the realm in thine
absence, against thou shalt return."

So Zein ul Asnam went forth and equipping himself [for travel, set out]
and journeyed till he came to Cairo, where he enquired for Mubarek's
house and the folk said to him, "O my lord, this is a man than whom
there is none richer in [all Cairo]; no, nor is there a more abounding
than he in bounty and beneficence, and his house is [still] open to the
stranger." So they directed him thither and he went till he came to the
house and knocked at the door; whereupon there came out to him one of
Mubarek's slaves and [57] opening the door, said to him, "Who art thou
and what wiliest thou?" Quoth Zein ul Asnam, "I am a stranger, a man
from a far country, and I heard tell of your lord, Mubarek, and how he
is renowned for hospitality and beneficence; so I came to him, that I
may be a guest with him." The slave entered and told his lord Mubarek;
then returned and said to Zein ul Asnam, "O my lord, blessing hath
descended upon us in thy coming. [58] Enter, for my lord Mubarek
awaiteth thee." So Zein ul Asnam entered into a courtyard, exceeding
spacious and all [full] of trees and waters, and the slave brought him
into the pavilion [59] where Mubarek sat. When he entered, the latter
arose forthright and coming to meet him, received him with cordiality
and said to him, "Blessing hath descended upon us and this night is
the most auspicious of nights in thy coming to us! But who art thou, O
youth, and whence comest thou and whither art thou bound?" The prince
answered him, saying, "I am Zein ul Asnam and I seek Mubarek, slave to
the Sultan of Bassora, who died a year agone and whose son I am." "What
sayst thou?" cried Mubarek. "Art thou the king's son of Bassora?" "Yea,
verily," replied Zein ul Asnam; "I am his son." Quoth Mubarek, "Nay, my
lord the king of Bassora left no son; but what is thine age, O youth?"
"About twenty years," replied Zein ul Asnam. "And thou," added he, "how
long is it since thou wentest out from my father's house?" "I went out
eighteen years agone," answered Mubarek. "But, O my son Zein ul Asnam,
by what token canst thou certify me that thou art the son of my lord
the king of Bassora?" Quoth Zein ul Asnam, "Thou knowest that my father
builded under his palace a vault and therein [a hall in which] he set
forty [60] jars of fine jade and filled them with ancient gold; [61] and
within this hall he made a second hall, wherein he placed eight images
of precious stones, each wroughten of a single jewel and seated upon a
throne of virgin gold. [62] Moreover, he wrote upon a curtain of silk
there and I read the writ, whereby I found that he bade me come to thee,
saying that thou wouldst acquaint me of the ninth image and where it is,
the which, said he, was worth the eight, all of them."

When Mubarek heard these words, he threw himself at Zein ul Asnam's feet
and fell to kissing them and saying, "Pardon me, O my lord! Verily, thou
art the son of my lord." Then said he to the prince, "O my lord, I make
to-day a banquet unto all the chief men of Cairo and I would fain have
thy highness honour me [with thy presence] thereat." And Zein ul Asnam
said, "With all my heart." [63] So Mubarek arose and foregoing Zein ul
Asnam, brought him into the saloon, which was full of the chief men of
Cairo, assembled therein. There he sat down and seating the prince
in the place of honour, called for the evening-meal. So they laid the
tables and Mubarek stood to serve Zein ul Asnam, with his hands clasped
behind him [64] and whiles seated upon his knees [and heels]. [65] The
notables of Cairo marvelled at this, how Mubarek, the chiefest of them,
should serve the youth, and [66] were sore amazed thereat, knowing not
[who or] whence he was. But, after they had eaten and drunken and supped
and were of good cheer, Mubarek turned to the company and said to
them, "O folk, marvel not that I serve this youth with all worship and
assiduity, for that he is the son of my lord the Sultan of Bassora,
whose slave I was, for that he bought me with his money and died without
setting me free; wherefore it behoveth me serve my lord, and all that my
hand possesseth of monies and gear is his, nor is anywhit thereof mine."
When the notables of Cairo heard this speech, they arose to Zein ul
Asnam and did him exceeding great worship and saluted him with all
reverence and prayed for him; [67] and he said, "O company, I am before
your presence and ye are witnesses [of that which I am about to do."
Then, turning to his host,] "O Mubarek, [quoth he,] thou art free and
all that is with thee of monies and gear appertaining unto us shall
henceforth be thine and thou art altogether acquitted thereof [68]
and of every part thereof. Moreover, do thou ask of me whatsoever thou
desirest by way of boon, [69] for that I will nowise gainsay thee in
aught thou mayst seek." [70] Thereupon Mubarek arose and kissed the
prince's hand and thanked him, saying, "O my lord, I will nought of thee
save that thou be well; for indeed the wealth that I have is exceeding
abundant upon me."

So Zein ul Asnam abode with Mubarek four days and every day the chief
men of Cairo came to salute him, whenas it reached them that this was
Mubarek's lord, the Sultan of Bassora; then, after he was rested, he
said to his host, "O Mubarek, indeed the time is long upon me;" [71] and
Mubarek said to him, "Thou must know, O my lord, that this whereof thou
art come in quest is a hard [72] matter, nay, even unto danger of death,
and I know not if thy fortitude may suffice thee for the achievement
thereof." [73] "Know, O Mubarek," rejoined Zein ul Asnam, "that wealth
[is gotten] by blood [74] and there betideth a man nought except by the
will and foreordinance of the Creator (to whom belong might and majesty
); so do thou take heart and concern not thyself on my account."
Accordingly Mubarek forthright commended his slaves equip them for
travel; so they made all ready and taking horse, journeyed days and
nights in the foulest of deserts, [75] witnessing daily things and
matters which confounded their wits,--things such as never in their time
had they seen,--until they drew near the place [of their destination];
whereupon they lighted down from their steeds and Mubarek bade the
slaves and servants abide there, saying to them, "Keep watch over the
beasts of burden and the horses till we return to you."

Then the twain set out together afoot and Mubarek said to Zein ul Asnam,
"O my lord, now behoveth fortitude, for that thou art in the land of the
image whereof thou comest in quest." And they gave not over walking till
they drew near a great lake and a wide, whereupon quoth Mubarek to
Zein ul Asnam, "Know, O my lord, that there will presently come to us a
little boat, bearing a blue flag and builded all with planks of sandal
and Comorin aloes-wood of price; and [thereanent] I have a charge to
give thee, which it behoveth thee observe." "What is this charge?"
asked the prince and Mubarek said to him, "In this boat thou wilt see a
boatman, [76] but his make is monstrous; [77] wherefore be thou ware and
again, I say, beware lest thou speak aught, for that he will incontinent
drown us; and know that this place appertaineth to the King of the Jinn
and that all thou seest is their handiwork." Then [78] they came to
the lake and behold, a little boat with planks of sandal and Comorin
aloes-wood and in it a boatman, whose head was [as] the head of an
elephant and the rest of his body [as that of] a wild beast. [79] When
he drew near them, he wrapped his trunk about them both and taking them
with him into the boat, rowed out with them to the midst of the lake,
then fared on with them [80] till he brought them to the other shore,
where they landed and walking on, saw there trees of ambergris [81]
and aloes and sandal-wood and cloves and jessamine, [82] full-grown
and laden with ripe fruits and flowers [83] whose fragrance dilated the
breast and cheered the spright; and there [they heard] the voices of the
birds twittering their various notes and ravishing the wit with their
warblings. So Mubarek turned to Zein ul Asnam and said to him, "How
deemest thou of this place, O my lord?" And the prince answered him,
saying, "Methinketh, O Mubarek, this is the paradise which the Prophet
(whom God bless and keep) promised us withal."

Then they fared on till they came to a magnificent palace, builded all
with stones of emerald and rubies, and its doors were of sheer gold.
Before it was a bridge, the length whereof was an hundred and fifty
cubits and its breadth fifty cubits, and it was [wroughten] of the rib
of a fish; whilst at the other end of the bridge were many warriors [84]
of the Jinn, gruesome and terrible of aspect, and all of them bore
in their hands javelins of steel that flashed in the sun like winter
lightning. [85] Quoth Zein ul Asnam to Mubarek, "This is a thing that
taketh the wits;" and Mubarek said to him, "It behoveth us abide in
our place neither fare forward, lest a mischance betide us. O God,
[vouchsafe us] safety!" Therewith he brought out of his pocket four
pieces of yellow silken stuff and girded himself with one thereof; the
second he laid on his shoulders and gave Zein ul Asnam other two pieces,
with which he girded himself [and covered his shoulders] on like
wise. Moreover, he spread before each of them a sash of white silk
and bringing forth of his pocket precious stones and perfumes, such as
ambergris and aloes-wood, (set them on the edges thereof) [86] after
which they sat down, each on his sash, and Mubarek taught Zein ul Asnam
these words, which he should say to the King of the Jinn, to wit: "O my
lord King of the Jinn, we are in thy safeguard." And Zein ul Asnam said
to him, "And I will instantly conjure him that he accept of us."

Then said Mubarek, "O my lord, by Allah, I am exceeding fearful. But now
hearken; an he be minded to accept of us without hurt, he will come to
us in the semblance of a man accomplished in grace and goodliness;
but, an he have no mind to us, he will come to us in a gruesome and a
frightful aspect. An thou see him surpassing in beauty, arise forthright
and salute him, but beware lest thou overpass thy sash." And Zein
ul Asnam said to him, "Hearkening and obedience." "And be this thy
salutation to him," continued Mubarek; "thou shalt say, 'O King of the
Jinn and lord of the earth, my father, the Sultan of Bassora, the angel
of death hath removed, as indeed is not hidden from thee. Now Thy Grace
was still wont to take my father under thy protection, and I come
to thee likewise to put myself under thy safeguard, even as did he.'
Moreover, [87] O my lord Zein ul Asnam," added he, "an the King of the
Jinn receive us with a cheerful favour, he will without fail ask thee
and say to thee, 'Seek of me that which thou wiliest and thou shalt
forthright be given [it].' [88] So do thou seek of him and say to him,
'O my lord, I crave of Thy Grace the ninth image, than which there is
not the world a more precious; and indeed Thy Grace promised my father
that thou wouldst give it to me."'

Having thus taught his lord how he should speak with the King of the
Jinn and seek of him the ninth image and how he should make his speech
seemly and pleasant, Mubarek fell to conjuring and fumigating and
reciting words that might not be understanded; and no great while passed
ere the world lightened [89] and rain fell in torrents [90] and it
thundered and darkness covered the face of the earth; and after this
there came a tempestuous wind and a voice like an earthquake of the
earthquakes [91] of the Day of Resurrection. When Zein ul Asnam saw
these portents, his joints trembled and he was sore affrighted, for
that he beheld a thing he had never in all his life seen nor heard.
But Mubarek laughed at him and said to him, "Fear not, O my lord; this
whereat thou art affrighted is that which we seek; nay, it is a presage
of good to-us. So take heart and be of good cheer." After this there
came a great clearness and serenity and there breathed pure and fragrant
breezes; then, presently, behold, there appeared the King of the Jinn in
the semblance of a man comely of favour, there was none like unto him
in his goodliness, save He who hath no like and to whom belong might and
majesty. He looked on Zein ul Asnam and Mubarek with a cheerful, smiling
countenance; whereupon the prince arose forthright and proffered him his
petition in the words which Mubarek had taught him.

The King of the Jinn turned to him, smiling, and said to him, "O Zein
ul Asnam, indeed I loved thy father the Sultan of Bassora, and I used,
whenassoever he came to me, to give him an image of those which thou
hast seen, each wroughten of a single jewel, and thou also shalt stand
in thy father's stead with me and shalt find favour in mine eyes, even
as did he, ay, and more. Before he died, I caused him write the writ
which thou sawest on the curtain of silk and promised him that I would
take thee under my protection, even as himself, and would give thee the
ninth image, which is more of worth than those which thou hast seen. Now
it is my intent to perform the promise which I made to thy father, that
I would take thee under my protection, and [92] [know that] I was the
old man whom thou sawest in thy sleep and it was I bade thee dig in
the palace for the vault wherein thou foundest the jars of gold and the
images of jewels. I know also wherefore thou art come hither; nay, I
am he that was the cause of thy coming, and I will give thee that which
thou seekest, albeit I had not given it to thy father; but on condition
that thou swear to me a solemn oath and abide me constant thereto, to
wit, that thou wilt return and bring me a girl of the age of fifteen
years, with whom there shall be none to match in loveliness, and she
must be a clean maid, who shall never have lusted after man, nor shall
man have lusted after her. Moreover, thou must swear to me that thou
wilt keep faith with her, coming, and beware lest thou play me false
with her by the way."

So Zein ul Asnam swore a solemn oath to him of this and said to him, "O
my lord, indeed, thou honourest me with this service; but methinketh it
will be hard to find a girl like this. Nay, supposing I find a damsel
fifteen years of age and beautiful exceedingly, according to Thy Grace's
requirement, how shall I know that she hath never in her time lusted
after man nor hath man lusted after her?" "O Zein ul Asnam," replied
the King of the Jinn, "thou art in the right and certain it is that this
knowledge is a thing unto which the sons of man may not avail; but I
will give thee a mirror of my fashion, and when thou seest a girl and
her beauty pleaseth thee and her grace, do thou open this mirror that
I shall give thee, and if thou find her image therein clear and bright,
thou shalt know forthright that she is pure without default and that all
good qualities are in her; so do thou take her for me. If thou find
her image in the mirror other than this, to wit, an it be troubled and
clothed with uncleanness, know that the girl is sullied and beware of
her; but, an thou find one such as she whose qualities I have set out
to thee, bring her to me and watch over her [by the way;] yet beware and
again I say, beware of treason and bethink thee that, an thou keep not
faith with me, thou wilt assuredly lose thy life."

So Zein ul Asnam made with him a stable and abiding covenant, the
covenant of the sons of kings, that he would keep the plighted faith
and never play him false, but [93] would bring him the damsel with all
continence. Then the King of the Jinn delivered him the mirror and said
to him, "O my son, take this mirror whereof I bespoke thee, and now
depart." Accordingly Zein ul Asnam and Mubarek arose and calling down
blessings upon the King, returned upon their steps till they came to
the lake, where they sat a little and behold, up came the boat which had
brought them and the genie rowing therein, whose head was as [94] the
head of an elephant. Now this was by the commandment of the King of the
Jinn; so they embarked with the genie and crossed with him to the other
shore; after which they returned to Cairo and entering Mubarek's
house, abode there awhile till they were rested from the fatigue of the
journey.

Then Zein ul Asnam turned to Mubarek and said to him, "Come, let us go
to the city of Baghdad, so we may seek for a girl who shall be according
to the requirement of the King of the Jinn." And Mubarek said to him,
"O my lord, we are in Cairo, the city of cities and the wonder of the
world. [95] I shall without fail find a girl here and it needeth not
that we go to a far city." "Thou sayst sooth, O Mubarek," rejoined the
prince; "but how shall we set about the matter and how shall we do to
come by [96] a girl like this and who shall go seeking her for us?" "O
my lord," replied Mubarek, "concern not thyself [97] for that, for I
have with me here an old woman (upon her, [to speak] figuratively, [98]
be the malediction [of God] [99]) who is a mistress of wiles and craft
and guile and not to be baulked by any hindrance, however great." Then
he sent to fetch the old woman and telling her that he wanted a damsel
fifteen years old and fair exceedingly, so he might marry her to the
son of his lord, promised her largesse galore, an she did her utmost
endeavour in the matter; whereupon, "O my lord," answered she, "be easy;
I will accomplish unto thee thy desire beyond thy wish; for that under
my hand are damsels unpeered in grace and goodliness and all of them
daughters of men of condition." But, O King of the time, [100] the old
woman had no knowledge of the affair of the mirror.

Then she arose and went out to go round about in the city and to run
along its ways, [101] seeking [102] the girl for Prince Zein ul Asnam,
and whenassoever she saw a fair damsel, accomplished in beauty, she
proceeded to bring her to Mubarek; but, when he looked at her in the
mirror, he would see her image troubled exceedingly and would leave her;
so that the old woman brought him all the damsels of Cairo, but there
was not found among them one whose image in the mirror was clear;
wherefore he bethought him to go to Baghdad, since he found not one in
Cairo who pleased him [or] who was a clean maid, like as the King of the
Jinn had enjoined him. So he arose and equipping himself, [set out and]
journeyed, he and Zein ul Asnam, till they came to the city of Baghdad,
where they hired them a magnificent palace amiddleward the city and took
up their abode therein. There the chief men of the city used to come
to them every day and sat at their table, even to the comer and goer by
night and by day. [103] Moreover, when there remained aught from their
table, they distributed it to the poor and the afflicted and all the
strangers in the mosques [104] would come and eat with them. So the
report was noised abroad in the land of their generosity and bounty and
they became in high repute and fair fame throughout all Baghdad, nor did
any talk but of Zein ul Asnam and his bounty and wealth.

Now it chanced that in one of the mosques was an Imam, [105] corrupt,
envious and despiteful in the extreme, and his lodging was near the
palace wherein Mubatek and Zein ul Asnam had taken up their abode. When
he heard of their bounty and generosity and of the goodliness of their
repute, envy get hold upon him and jealousy of them, and he fell to
bethinking himself how he should do, so he might bring some calamity
upon them and despoil them of that their fair fortune, for it is of the
wont of envy that it falleth not but upon the rich. So, one day of the
days, as he stood in the mosque, after the mid-afternoon prayer, he came
forward into the midst of the folk and said, "O my brethren, O ye of the
True Faith, ye who ascribe unity to God, know that in this our quarter
there be two men dwelling, strangers, and most like you are acquainted
with them. Now these twain spend and squander wealth galore, passing
all measure, and in my belief they are none other than thieves and
highwaymen and are come hither with that which they stole from their own
country, so they may squander it." Then [106] "O people of Mohammed,"
added he, "I rede you for God's sake keep yourselves from these
tricksters, [107] lest belike the Khalif come presently to know of these
two men and ye also fall with them into calamity. Now I have warned
you and I wash my hands of your affair, for that I have forewarned and
awakened you; so do that which you deem well." And they said to him, all
who were present, with one voice, "We will do whatsoever thou wiliest,
O Aboubekr!" When the Imam heard this from them, he arose and taking
inkhorn and pen and paper, fell to writing a letter to the Commander of
the Faithful, setting forth to him [the case] against Zein ul Asnam and
Mubarek.

Now, as destiny willed it, the latter chanced to be in the mosque among
the folk and heard the accursed Imam's discourse and that which he did
by way of writing the letter to the Khalif; whereupon he tarried not,
but, returning home forthwith, took an hundred diners and made him
a parcel of price, all of silken clothes, [108] wherewith he betook
himself in haste to Aboubekr's house and knocked at the door. The Imam
came out to him and opened the door; and when he saw him, he asked him
surlily who he was and what he would; whereupon quoth the other, "O my
lord the Imam Aboubekr, I am thy slave Mubarek and I come to thee on the
part of my lord the Amir Zein ul Asnam. He hath heard of thy learning
and of the excellence of thy repute in the city and would fain become
acquainted with thee and do that which behoveth unto thee; wherefore
he hath presently sent me with these things and this money for thine
expenses and hopeth of thee that thou wilt not blame him, inasmuch as
this is little for thy worth, but hereafter, God willing, he will not
fail of that which is due unto thee." Aboubekr looked at [the coins and]
at their impress and yellowness [109] and at the parcel of clothes and
said to Mubarek, "O my lord, [I crave] pardon of thy lord the Amir, for
that I am presently abashed before him [110] and it irketh me sore that
I have not done my duty towards him; [111] but I hope of thee that thou
wilt intercede with him on my behalf, so he may of his favour pardon
me my default; and (the Creator willing) I will to-morrow do that which
behoveth me and will go do my service to him [112] and proffer him the
respect which is due from me to him." "O my lord Aboubekr," replied
Mubarek, "the extreme of my lord's desire is to look upon thy worship,
so he may be honoured by thy presence and get of thee a blessing." So
saying, he kissed the Imam's hand and returned to his lodging.

On the morrow, whilst Aboubekr was [engaged] in the Friday prayers at
dawn, he stood up amongst the folk, in the midst of the mosque, and
said, "O our brethren of the Muslims and people of Mohammed, all of you,
verily envy falleth not save upon the rich and the noble and passeth
by the poor and those of low estate. Know that of the two stranger men
against whom I spoke yesterday one is an Amir, a man of great rank
and noble birth, and the case is not as certain of the envious [113]
informed me concerning him, to wit, that he was a thief and a robber;
for I have enquired into the matter and find that the report lieth. So
beware lest any of you missay of the Amir or speak aught of evil against
him, such as that which I heard yesterday, or you will cause me and
yourselves fall into the gravest of calamities with the Commander of the
Faithful; for that a man of high degree like this cannot sojourn in the
city of Baghdad without the Khalif's knowledge." On [114] this wise,
then, the Imam Aboubekr did away from the minds of the folk the ill
thought [115] which he had planted [there] by his speech concerning Zein
ul Asnam.

Moreover, when he had made an end of the prayers, he returned to his
own house and donned his gabardine; then, weightening his skirts and
lengthening his sleeves, [116] he went forth and took his way to the
prince's house. When he came in to Zein ul Asnam, the latter rose to
him and received him with the utmost reverence. Now he was by nature
religious, [117] for all he was a youth of tender age; so he proffered
the Imam all manner of honour and seating him by his side on a high
divan, let bring him coffee with ambergris. Then the servants spread the
table for breakfast and they took their sufficiency of meat and drink,
and when they had finished, they fell to talking and making merry
together. Presently the Imam asked the prince and said to him, "O my
lord Zein ul Asnam, doth your highness purpose to sojourn long here in
Baghdad?" "Yea, verily, O our Lord the Imam," answered Zein ul Asnam;
"my intent is to sojourn here awhile, till such time as my requirement
be accomplished." "And what," asked Aboubekr, "is the requirement of my
lord the Amir? Belike, an I know it, I may avail to further him to his
wish, though I sacrifice my life for him." [118] And the prince said to
him, "I seek a damsel fifteen years of age and fair exceedingly, that I
may marry her; but she must be pure and chaste and a clean maid, whom
no man hath anywise defiled nor in all her life hath she thought upon a
man; [119] and she must be unique in grace and goodliness."

"O my lord," rejoined the Imam, "this is a thing exceeding hard to find;
but I know a damsel unique in her loveliness and her age is fifteen
years. Her father was a Vizier, who resigned office of his own motion,
and he abideth presently at home in his palace and is exceeding jealous
over his daughter and her bringing up. [120] Methinketh this damsel will
suit your Highness's mind, and she will rejoice in an Amir like your
Highness, as also will her parents." Quoth Zein ul Asnam, "God willing,
this damsel whereof thou speakest will answer my requirement and the
accomplishment of our desire shall be at thy hands; [121] but, O our
lord the Imam, before all things my wish is to see her, so I may know
an she be chaste or not. As for her beauty, I am assured of [122] your
worship's sufficiency and am content to trust to your word concerning
her loveliness, to wit, that she is surpassing; but, for her chastity,
you cannot avail to testify with certitude of her case." "And how,"
asked the Imam, "can it be possible unto you, O my lord the Amir, to
know from her face that she is pure? An this be so, your highness is
skilled in physiognomy. However, an your highness will vouchsafe to
accompany me, I will carry you to her father's palace and make you known
to the latter, and he shall bring her before you."

Accordingly, [123] the Imam Aboubekr took Zein ul Asnam and carried him
to the Vizier's house; and when they went in to him, the Vizier rose
and welcomed the prince, especially when he knew that he was an Amir and
understood from the Imam that he wished to marry his daughter. So he let
bring the damsel before him, and when she came, he bade her raise the
veil from her face. Accordingly she unveiled herself and Zein ul Asnam,
looking upon her, was amazed at her grace and goodliness, for that never
had he seen one to match with her in beauty; and he said in himself, "I
wonder if I shall [124] happen upon one like this damsel, since it is
forbidden that she should be mine!" Then he brought out the mirror
from his pocket and looked thereon; when, behold, its crystal was clear
exceedingly, as it were virgin silver; and he observed her image in
the mirror and saw it like a white dove. So he forthright concluded the
match and sent for the Cadi and the witnesses, who wrote the writ
[125] and enthroned the bride; [126] after which Zein ul Asnam took
the Vizier, the bride's father, home with him to his house and sent the
young lady jewels of great price. Then they celebrated the wedding and
held high festival, never was the like thereof, whilst Zein ul Asnam
proceeded to entertain the folk and made them banquets for the space of
eight days. Moreover, he honoured Aboubekr the Imam and gave him gifts
galore and brought the Vizier, the bride's father, presents and great
rarities.

Then, the wedding festivities being ended, Mubarek said to Zein ul
Asnam, "Come, O my lord, let us set out on our way, lest we waste the
time in sloth, now we have found that whereof we were in search." And
the prince answered him, saying, "Thou art in the right." So Mubarek
arose and fell to equipping them for the journey; moreover, he let make
the young lady a camel-litter [127] with a travelling couch, [128] and
they set out. But Mubarek knew that Zein ul Asnam was sunken deep in
love of the damsel; so he took him and said to him, "O my lord Zein ul
Asnam, I would fain remind thee to watch over thyself; nay, again I say,
have a care and keep the faith which thou plightedst to the King of the
Jinn." "O Mubarek," answered the prince, "an thou knewest the transport
which possesseth me for the love of this young lady [129] and how I
still think of nothing but of taking her to Bassora and going in [to
her]!" And Mubarek said to him, "Nay, O my lord; keep thy troth and play
not the traitor to thine oath, lest there befall thee a sore calamity
and thou lose thy life and the young lady lose hers also. Bethink thee
of the oath which thou sworest and let not lust get the mastery over
thine understanding, lest thou lose guerdan [130] and honour and life."
"O Mubarek," rejoined Zein ul Asnam, "keep thou watch over her thyself
and let me not see her." So [131] Mubarek fell to keeping watch and ward
over the bride in the prince's stead and guarded the latter also, lest
he should look on her; and so they journeyed on past the road leading
unto Egypt and fared on their way to the Island of the Jinn.

When the bride beheld the journey (and indeed it was long upon her) and
saw not her husband in all this time since the night of the bridal, she
turned to Mubarek and said to him, "God upon thee, O Mubarek, tell me,
I conjure thee by the life of thy lord the Amir, are we yet far from the
dominions [132] of my bridegroom, the Amir Zein ul Asnam?" And he said
to her, "Alack, O my lady, it irketh me for thee and I will discover to
thee that which is hidden. To wit, thou deemest that Zein ul Asnam,
King of Bassora, is thy bridegroom. Far be it! [133] He is not thy
bridegroom. The writing of the writ of his marriage with thee [134] was
but a pretext before thy parents and the folk; and now thou art going
for a bride to the King of the Jinn, who sought thee from the Amir Zein
ul Asnam." When the young lady heard these words, she fell a-weeping and
Zein ul Asnam heard her and fell a-weeping also, a sore weeping, of the
excess of his love for her. And she said to them, "Is there no pity
in you and no clemency and have you no fear of God, that I, a stranger
maid, you cast me into a calamity like this? What answer will you give
unto God [135] concerning this treason that you have wroughten with me?"

But her weeping and her words availed her nothing, and they ceased not
to fare on with her till they came to the King of the Jinn, to whom they
straightway presented her. When he beheld her, she pleased him and he
turned to Zein ul Asnam and said to him. "Verily, the girl whom thou
hast brought me is exceeding in beauty and surpassing in loveliness; but
the goodliness of thy loyalty and shine overmastering of thyself for my
sake is fairer than she in mine eyes. So return now to thy place and
the ninth image that thou seekest of me thou shalt find, on thy return,
beside the other images; for I will send it to thee by one of my slaves
of the Jinn." Accordingly, Zein ul Asnam kissed the King's hand and
returned with Mubarek to Cairo; but, when they came thither, he chose
not to abide with Mubarek longer than a resting-while, of the excess of
his longing and his yearning to see the ninth image. Withal he ceased
not from mourning, bethinking him of the young lady and her grace and
goodliness; and he fell to lamenting and saying, "Alas for the loss of
my delights that were because of thee, O pearl of beauty and loveliness,
thou whom I took from thy parents and presented to the King of the Jinn!
Alack, the pity of it!" And [136] he chid himself for the deceit and the
perfidy which he had practised upon the young lady's parents and how he
had brought her to the King of the Jinn.

Then he set out and gave not over journeying till he came to Bassora
and entering his palace, saluted his mother and told her all that had
befallen him; whereupon quoth she to him, "Arise, O my son, so thou
mayst [137] see this ninth image, for that I am exceeding rejoiced at
its presence with us." So they both descended into the underground hall,
wherein were the eight images, and found there a great marvel; to wit,
instead of the ninth image, they beheld the young lady, resembling the
sun in her loveliness. The prince knew her, when he saw her, and she
said to him, "Marvel not to find me here in place of that which thou
soughtest; methinketh thou wilt not repent thee an thou take me in the
stead of the ninth image." "No, by Allah, oh my beloved!" replied Zein
ul Asnam, "For that thou art the end of my seeking and I would not
exchange thee for all the jewels in the world. Didst thou but know the
grief which possessed me for thy separation, thou whom I took from thy
parents by fraud and brought thee to the King of the Jinn!" [138]

Scarce had the prince made an end of his speech when they heard a noise
of thunder rending the mountains and shaking the earth and fear get hold
upon the queen, the mother of Zein ul Asnam, yea, and sore trembling;
but, after a little, the King of the Jinn appeared and said to her, "O
lady, fear not, it is I who am thy son's protector and I love him with
an exceeding love for the love his father bore me. Nay, I am he
who appeared to him in his sleep and in this I purposed to try his
fortitude, whether or not he might avail to subdue himself for loyalty's
sake. Indeed the beauty of this young lady beguiled him and he could not
avail to keep his covenant with me so strictly but [139] that he desired
her for his bride. However, I know the frailty of human nature and
withal I think greatly of him that he guarded her and kept her unsullied
and withdrew himself from her; [140] wherefore I accept this his
constancy and bestow her on him as a bride. She is the ninth image,
which I promised him should be with him, and certes she is fairer than
all these images of jewels, inasmuch as her like is rarely found in the
world." Then the King of the Jinn turned to Zein ul Asnam and said to
him, "O Prince Zein ul Asnam, this is thy bride; take her and go in
to her, on condition that thou love her and take not unto her a
second [wife]; and I warrant thee of the goodliness of her fidelity
to-thee-ward." Therewithal he vanished from them and Zein ul Asnam went
out, glad and rejoicing in the young lady; [141] and of [the excess
of] his love for her he went in to her that night and let celebrate the
bridal and hold high festival in all the kingdom. Then he abode upon the
throne of his kingship, judging and commanding and forbidding, whilst
his bride became queen of Bassora; and after a little his mother died.
So he made her funeral obsequies [142] and mourned for her; after which
he lived with his bride in all content till there came to them the
Destroyer of Delights and the Sunderer of Societies.





ALAEDDIN AND THE ENCHANTED LAMP. [143]



There [144] was [once] in a city of the cities of China a man, a tailor
and poor, and he had a son by name Alaeddin, who was perverse and
graceless from his earliest childhood. When he came to ten years of age,
his father would fain have taught him his own craft, for that, because
he was poor, he could not spend money upon him to have him taught
[another] trade or art [145] or the like; [146] so he carried him to his
shop, that he might teach him his craft of tailoring; but, forasmuch
as the lad was perverse and wont still to play with the boys of the
quarter, [147] he would not sit one day in the shop; nay, he would watch
his father till such time as he went forth the place to meet a customer
[147] or on some other occasion, when he would flee forth incontinent
and go out to the gardens with the good-for-nothing lads like himself.
This, then, was his case, [148] and he would not obey his parents, nor
would he learn a craft. His father sickened of his grief and chagrin for
his son's perversity and died, whilst Alaeddin abode on that his wise.
When his mother saw that her husband had departed this life [149] and
that her son was a scapegrace and a good-for-nought, she sold the
shop and all she found therein and fell to spinning cotton and feeding
herself and her graceless son Alaeddin with her toil. The latter,
seeing himself quit of his father's danger, [150] redoubled in his
gracelessness and his perversity and would not abide in their house save
eating-whiles; and his poor wretched mother supported him [151] by the
spinning of her hands till he came to fifteen years of age.

One [152] day of the days, as he sat in the street, playing with the
vagabond boys, behold, a Maugrabin [153] dervish came up and stopping
to look at the lads, singled out Alaeddin from his comrades and fell to
gazing upon him and straitly considering his favour. Now this dervish
was from the land of Hither Barbary [154] and he was an enchanter who
would cast mountain upon mountain with his sorcery and was skilled to
boot in physiognomy. [155] When he had well considered Alaeddin, he said
in himself, "Certes, this boy is he whom I seek and he it is in quest of
whom I came forth from my country." So he took one of the lads apart and
asked him of Alaeddin, whose son he was, and questioned him of all his
affairs; after which he went up to Alaeddin and taking him aside, said
to him, "Harkye, boy, art thou not the son of such an one the tailor?"
And he answered him, saying "Yes, O my lord; but my father died awhile
agone." When the Maugrabin magician heard this, he threw himself upon
Alaeddin and embracing him, fell to kissing him and weeping, that his
tears ran down upon his cheek.

Alaeddin was astonished at the Maugrabin's behaviour; so he asked him
and said to him, "What is the cause of thy weeping, O my lord, and
whence knewest thou my father?" The Maugrabin answered him, in a
mournful, broken voice, [156] saying, "How, O my son, canst thou ask me
this question, after telling me that thy father, my brother, is dead,
for thy father was [indeed] my brother [157] and I am newly come from my
country and was rejoicing exceedingly, after this my strangerhood, of my
expectation that I should see him and solace myself with him; [158] and
now thou tellest me that he is dead! Marry, blood discovered unto me
that [159] thou wast the son of my brother, and indeed I knew thee from
amongst all the lads; although thy father, when I left him, was not yet
married. And [160] now, O my son Alaeddin," continued he, "I have lost
my consolation [161] and my joy in thy father, my brother, whom I had
hoped, after my strangerhood, to see ere I died; but separation hath
afflicted me in him [162] and there is no fleeing from that which is
[163] nor is there any resource against the ordinance of God the Most
High."

Then he took Alaeddin and said to him, "O my son, I have no comfort
[163] but in thee [164] and thou art [to me] in the stead of thy father,
since thou art his successor and whoso leaveth [a successor] is not
dead, O my son." With this he put his hand [to his pocket] and bringing
out ten diners, gave them to Alaeddin, saying, "O my son, where is your
house and where is thy mother, my brother's wife?" So Alaeddin took him
and showed him the way to their house; and the magician said to him, "O
my son, take these monies and give them to thy mother and salute her
on my behalf and tell her that thine uncle is come back from his
strangerhood; and God willing, to-morrow I will come visit you, so I
may salute her and look upon the house wherein my brother dwelt and see
where his tomb is." [165] Alaeddin kissed his hand and hastened home,
running in his joy, to his mother and entered, contrary to his wont, for
that he was not used to go in to her save at eating-times. So he went in
to her, rejoicing, and said to her, "O my mother, I bring thee glad news
of my uncle, in that he is come back from his absence, and he saluteth
thee." "O my son," quoth she, "meseemeth thou makest mock of me. Who is
thine uncle and whence hast thou an uncle on life?" And he said to her,
"O my mother, why didst thou tell me that I had no uncles and no
kinsfolk on life? Indeed, this man is my uncle and he embraced me and
kissed me, weeping, and bade me tell thee of this." And she answered
him, saying, "Yes, O my son, I knew thou hadst an uncle, but he is dead
and I know not that thou hast a second uncle."

As [166] for the Maugrabin enchanter, he went forth at dawn and fell to
searching for [167] Alaeddin, for that he might not brook parting from
him; [168] and as he went about in the thoroughfares of the city, he
came upon the lad, who was playing with the vagabonds, as of his wont.
So he went up to him and taking him by the hand, embraced him and kissed
him; then he brought out of his purse two diners and said to Alaeddin,
"Go to thy mother and give her these two diners and say to her, 'My
uncle would fain sup with us; so take these two diners and make a good
supper.' But first show me once more the way to your house." "On my head
and eyes, O my uncle," answered Alaeddin and foregoing him, showed him
the way to the house. Then the Maugrabin left him and went his way,
whilst Alaeddin returned home and telling his mother [what had passed],
gave her the two diners and said to her, "My uncle would fain sup with
us." So she arose forthright and went out to the market, where she
bought all that was needful and returning home, borrowed of her
neighbours that which she required of platters and the like and
proceeded to make ready for supper.

When the time of the evening-meal came, she said to Alaeddin, "O my son,
the supper [169] is ready and maybe shine uncle knoweth not the way to
the house. Go thou and meet him." And he answered her with "Hearkening
and obedience." But, whilst they were in talk, behold, there came a
knocking at the door; whereupon Alaeddin went out and opening, found the
Maugrabin enchanter, and with him a slave bearing wine and fruits. So he
brought them in and the slave went his way, whilst the Maugrabin entered
and saluted Alaeddin's mother; then he fell a-weeping and said to her,
"Where is the place in which my brother was wont to sit?" She pointed
him to her husband's sitting-place, whereupon he went thither and
prostrating himself, fell to kissing the earth and saying, "Alas, how
scant is my delight and how sorry my fortune, since I have lost thee,
O my brother and apple [170] of mine eye!" And the abode on this wise,
weeping and lamenting, till Alaeddin's mother was certified that he was
in earnest and that he was like to swoon of the excess of his wailing
and his lamentation. So she came to him and raised him from the ground,
saying, "What profiteth it that thou shouldst kill thyself?" And [171]
she proceeded to comfort him and made him sit down.

Then, before she laid the table, the Maugrabin fell to relating to her
[his history] and said to her, "O wife of my brother, let it not amaze
thee that in all thy days thou never sawest me neither knewest of me
in my late brother's lifetime, for that I left this country forty years
agone and became an exile from my native land. I journeyed to the lands
of Hind and Sind and all the country of the Arabs and coming presently
into Egypt, sojourned awhile in the magnificent city [of Cairo], which
is the wonder of the world. [172] Ultimately I betook myself to the land
of Hither Barbary [173] and sojourned there thirty years' space, [174]
till one day of the days, as I sat, [175] O wife of my brother, I
bethought me of my country and my native place and of my late brother
and longing waxed on me to see him and I fell a-weeping and lamenting
over my strangerhood and distance from him. In fine, my yearning for him
importuned me till I resolved to journey to this country, the which was
the falling-place of my head [176] and my native land, that I might see
my brother. And I said in myself, "O man, how long wilt thou be an exile
[177] from thy country and thy native place, whenas thou hast an only
brother and no more? Arise and journey and look upon him ere thou die.
Who knoweth the calamities of fate and the vicissitudes of the days?
Sore pity 'twere that thou shouldst die and not see thy brother.
Moreover, Allah (praised be He) hath given thee abundant wealth and it
may be thy brother is in poor case and straitened, and thou wilt help
him, an [178] thou see him." So I arose forthright and equipped myself
for travel; then, reciting the Fatiheh [179], I took horse, after the
Friday prayer, and came, after many hardships and fatigues,--which I
suffered, till the Lord (to whom belong might and majesty) protected
[me],--to this city. I entered it and as I went about its thoroughfares
the day before yesterday, I saw my brother's son Alaeddin playing with
the boys; and by Allah the Great, O wife of my brother, when I saw him,
my heart crave to him, for that blood yearneth unto blood, and my soul
foreboded me he was my brother's son. At his sight I forgot all my toils
and troubles and was like to fly for joy; then, when he told me that my
late brother had departed to the mercy of God the Most High, I swooned
away for stress of grief and chagrin; and most like he hath told thee
of that which overcame me. [180] But I comforted myself somewhat with
Alaeddin, who standeth in stead of [181] the departed, for that whoso
leaveth [a successor] [182] dieth not."

Then, [183] when he saw her weeping at this speech, he turned to
Alaeddin, by way of making her forget the mention of her husband and
feigning to comfort her, so he might the better accomplish his device
upon her, and said to him, "O my son Alaeddin, what hast thou learned of
crafts and what is thy business? Hast thou learned thee a trade whereby
thou mayst live, thou and thy mother?" At this Alaeddin was confounded
and abashed and hung down his head, bowing it to the ground, whilst his
mother said to the Maugrabin, "How? By Allah, he knoweth nought at all!
So graceless a lad I never saw. All day long he goeth about with the
vagabond boys of the quarter like himself; nay, his father, woe is me,
died not but of his chagrin concerning him; and now, as for me, my case
is woeful. I spin cotton and toil night and day, to earn two cakes of
bread, that we may eat them together. This, then, is his condition, O
my brother-in-law, and by thy life, he cometh not in to me save at
eating-times, and I am thinking to bolt the door of my house and not
open to him and let him go seek his living for himself, for that I am
grown an old woman and have no strength left to toil and provide for
the maintenance of a fellow like this. [184] By Allah, I get mine own
livelihood, I that need one who shall maintain me." [185]

Therewithal the Maugrabin turned to Alaeddin and said to him, "How is
this, O son of my brother? It is a disgrace to thee to go vagabonding
about in this abjection. This befitteth not men like thee. Thou art
gifted with understanding, O my son, and the child of [reputable] folk;
[186] I and it is a shame upon thee that thy mother, who is an old
woman, should toil for thy maintenance, now thou art grown a man.
Nay, it behoveth thee get thee some means whereby thou mayst maintain
thyself, O my son. See, by God's grace, (praised be He) here in our city
be masters of crafts, nowhere is there a place more abounding in them:
choose, then, the craft which pleaseth thee and I will establish thee
therein, so that, when thou growest up, O my son, thou mayst find thee
thy craft whereby thou shalt live. Belike thou hast no mind to thy
father's trade; so choose other than it. Tell me the craft which
pleaseth thee and I will help thee in all that is possible, O son of
my brother." Then, seeing that Alaeddin was silent and answered him
nothing, he knew that he had no mind to any craft at all and recked of
nothing but vagabondage and said to him, "O son of my brother, be not
abashed at me; [187] if so be withal [188] thou caress not to learn a
trade, I will open thee a merchant's shop of the costliest stuffs and
thou shalt make thyself acquainted with [189] the folk [190] and shalt
give and take and sell and buy and become known in the city."

When Alaeddin heard these words of his uncle the Maugrabin, to wit,
that it was his intent to make him a merchant, [191] a trader, [192] he
rejoiced exceedingly, well knowing that all merchants' apparel is neat
and elegant; [193] so he looked at the Maugrabin and smiled and bowed
his head, as who should say, "I am content." The [194] magician, seeing
him smile, knew that he was content to be a merchant and said to him,
"Since thou art content that I should make thee a merchant and open thee
a shop, be a man, O son of my brother, and to-morrow, God willing, I
will take thee first to the market and let cut thee an elegant suit of
clothes such as merchants wear; and after that I will look thee out a
shop and perform my promise to thee." Now Alaeddin's mother was in some
little doubt as to the Maugrabin; but, when she heard his promise to her
son that he would open him a shop as a merchant with stuffs and
capital and what not else, she concluded that he was in very deed her
brother-in-law, inasmuch as a stranger would not do thus with her
son. So she fell to admonishing her son and exhorting him to put away
ignorance and folly from his head and be a man, and bade him still yield
obedience to his uncle, as he were his father, and apply himself to make
up the time which he had wasted in idleness [with] those who were like
him, after which she arose and laying the table, spread the evening-meal
and they all sat down and fell to eating and drinking, whilst the
Maugrabin talked with Alaeddin upon matters of merchandry and the like.
Then, when he saw that the night was far spent, [195] he arose and went
to his lodging, promising to return in the morning and take Alaeddin, so
he might let cut him a merchant's suit.

Alaeddin slept not that night for joy and when it was morning, behold,
the Maugrabin knocked at the door. The lad's mother arose and opened
to him; however, he would not enter, but sought Alaeddin, that he might
take him with him to the market. So Alaeddin went out to him and gave
him good-morning and kissed his hand; whereupon the Maugrabin took him
by the hand and going with him to the market, entered the shop of a
seller of all manner of clothes and demanded a suit of costly stuffs.
The merchant brought him what he sought, all sewn and ready, and the
Maugrabin said to Alaeddin, "Choose that which pleaseth thee, O my son."
Alaeddin rejoiced exceedingly, when he saw that his uncle gave him
his choice, and chose clothes to his mind, such as pleased him. The
Maugrabin at once paid the merchant their price and going out, carried
Alaeddin to the bath, where they bathed and came forth and drank wine.
[196] Then Alaeddin arose and donned the new suit; whereat he rejoiced
and was glad and coming up to his uncle, kissed his hand and thanked
him for his bounties. After [197] this the Maugrabin carried him to the
bazaar of the merchants and showed him the market and the selling and
buying and said to him, "O my son, it behoveth thee consort with
the folk, especially with the merchants, so thou mayst learn of them
merchandry, since this is become thy craft."

Then he took him again and showed him the city and the mosques and all
the sights of the place; after which he carried him to a cook's shop,
where the morning-meal was set before them in silver platters. So they
ate and drank till they had enough and going forth, fared on, whilst the
Maugrabin proceeded to show Alaeddin the pleasaunces and fine buildings,
[198] going in with him to the Sultan's palace and showing him all the
fair and fine quarters [199] [of the city]; after which he carried him
to the Khan of the stranger merchants, where he himself lodged. and
invited certain of the merchants who were in the Khan. Accordingly they
came and sat down to supper, and he informed them that this was his
brother's son and that his name was Alaeddin. Then, after they had eaten
and drunken, the night being now come, the Maugrabin arose and taking
Alaeddin, carried him back to his mother.

When she saw her son as he were one of the merchants, her wit fled [and
she waxed] sorrowful for gladness and fell to extolling the Maugrabin's
bounty and saying to him, "O my brother-in-law, I might not suffice [to
thy deserts,] though I thanked thee all my life long and praised thee
for the good thou hast done with my son." "O wife of my brother,"
answered he, "this is no manner of kindness in me, [200] for that
this is my son and it behoveth me stand in the stead of my brother his
father; so be thou easy." Quoth she, "I pray God, by the glory of the
ancients [201] and the moderns, that He let thee [live] and continue
thee, O my brother-in-law, and prolong me thy life, so thou mayst be
[as] a wing [202] to this orphan boy; and he shall still be under thine
obedience and thy commandment and shall do nought but that which thou
biddest him." "O wife of my brother," rejoined the Maugrabin, "Alaeddin
is a man of understanding and [the son of] decent folk, and my hope is
in God that he will follow in his father's footsteps and be the solace
of shine eyes; [203] but it irketh me that, to-morrow being Friday, I
cannot open him a shop. It being congregation day, all the merchants
will go out after prayers to the gardens and pleasaunces; but, God
willing, on Saturday, an it please the Creator, we will do our business.
Tomorrow I will come to you and take Alaeddin, that I may show him the
gardens and pleasaunces without the city,--it may be he hath not
yet seen them,--and he shall see the merchant-folk and the notables
a-pleasuring there, so he may become acquainted with them and they with
him." [204]

The [205] Maugrabin lay the night in his lodging; and on the morrow he
came to the tailor's house and knocked at the door. Alaeddin--of the
excess of his joy in the clothes he had donned and of the pleasures he
had enjoyed on the past day, what with the bath and eating and drinking
and viewing the folk and the thought that his uncle was coming in the
morning to take him and show him the gardens--slept not that night
neither closed an eye and thought the day would never break. [206] So,
when he heard a knocking at the door, he went out at once in haste, like
a spark of fire, and opening, found his uncle the Maugrabin. The latter
embraced him and kissed him and took him by the hand, saying, "O son of
my brother, to-day I will show thee a thing such as thou never sawest in
thy life." Then they went off together and the Maugrabin fell to making
merry with [207] Alaeddin and amusing him with familiar talk. They went
forth the gate of the city and the Maugrabin proceeded to walk with him
among the gardens and to show him the fine pleasaunces and marvellous
high-builded palaces; and whenassoever they looked upon a garden or a
palace [208] or a pavilion, [209] he would stand and say to Alaeddin,
"Doth this please thee, O my son Alaeddin?"

Alaeddin was like to fly for joy, inasmuch as he saw that which he had
never in his life seen, and they gave not over walking and gazing till
they were weary, when they entered a fine garden there, that cheered
the heart and brightened the eye with its springs [210] welling up among
flowers and its waters issuing from the mouths of lions of brass like
unto gold, and sitting down by a lake, rested awhile. As for Alaeddin,
he rejoiced and was exceeding glad and fell a-jesting with the Mangrabin
and making merry with him, as he were his uncle in very deed. Then the
latter arose and loosing his girdle, brought out therefrom a bag full
of victual and fruit and the like and said to Alaeddin, "O son of
my brother, thou art maybe anhungred; come, eat what thou wilt." So
Alaeddin proceeded to eat and the Maugrabin with him and they were
gladdened and refreshed and their souls were cheered. Then said the
Maugrabin, "Rise, O my son, an thou be rested, so we may walk a little
and fare onward." [211] So Alaeddin arose and the Maugrabin walked on
with him from garden to garden till they had passed them all and came to
a high mountain. [212]

Now Alaeddin had never gone forth the gate of the city nor in all his
life had he walked the like of that walk; so he said to the Maugrabin,
"O my uncle, whither are we going? See, we have left all the gardens
behind us and are come to the foot of a mountain. [213] If the way be
[yet] far, I have no strength left me for walking, for that I am worn
out with fatigue and there remain no more gardens before us; so let us
turn back and return to the city." "O my son," replied the Maugrabin,
"this is the way and the gardens are not yet at an end, for we are going
[214] to view a garden, whose like is not with the kings and compared
with which all these which thou hast seen are as nothing. So gird up thy
loins [215] for walking; praised be God, thou art a man." And he fell
to amusing him with fair words and telling him rare stories, true and
false, till they reached the place at which this Maugrabin enchanter
aimed and in quest whereof he was come from Barbary [216] to the land of
China; whereupon, "O son of my brother," quoth he to Alaeddin, "sit and
rest thee; this is the place for which we were making; and now, please
God, I will show thee marvellous things, the like whereof no one in the
world hath seen, nor hath any looked upon that which thou art about to
behold. But [217] do thou, after thou art rested, arise and seek sticks
and grass and reeds and such like matters as are small and dry, so we
may kindle a fire, and I will cause thee look, O son of my brother, upon
a thing which passeth understanding." [218]

When Alaeddin heard this, he yearned to see what his uncle was about to
do; so he forgot his fatigue and rising forthright, fell to gathering
brushwood and dry sticks and gathered till the Maugrabin said to him,
"Enough, O son of my brother." Then he brought out of his pocket a
casket, from which he took what he needed of perfumes, and proceeded
to make fumigations and conjurations, speaking words that might not be
understanded; and straightway it darkened and thundered and the earth
quaked and opened. At this Alaeddin was sore affrighted and would have
fled; which when the Maugrabin enchanter saw, he was exceeding, incensed
at him, for that without Alaeddin his labour was of none avail, since
the treasure whereat he sought to come might not be opened save by
means of the lad. So, when he saw him offer to flee, he rose to him and
lifting his hand, smote him on his head, that he came nigh to knock out
his teeth; whereupon Alaeddin swooned away and fell upon the earth;
but, after a little, he recovered his senses, by the virtue of the
Maugrabin's enchantments, and falling a-weeping, said to him, "O my
uncle, what have I done to deserve from thee this blow?" The Maugrabin
proceeded to soothe him and said to him, "O my son, it is my desire to
make thee a man; so cross me not, for that I am thine uncle and as it
were thy father; wherefore do thou obey me in that which I shall say to
thee, and after a little thou shalt forget all this travail and annoy,
whenas thou lookest upon things marvellous."

Now, when the earth clove in sunder before the enchanter, there appeared
to him an alabaster slab and in it a ring of molten brass; [219] so he
turned to Alaeddin and said to him, "An thou do that which I shall tell
thee, thou shalt become richer than all the kings; and on this account,
O my son, I beat thee, for that here is a treasure and it is in thy
name, and thou, thou wouldst fain have passed it by and fled. But
now collect thy wits [220] and see how I have opened the earth by my
conjurations and incantations. Under [221] yonder stone, wherein is the
ring, is the treasure whereof I have told thee; so do thou put thy hand
to the ring and lift the slab, for that none of mankind can open it but
thou and none but thou can set his foot within this treasure, since it
is guarded for thee. But needs must thou hearken from me that which I
shall teach thee and lose not [222] a syllable of my speech. Marry, all
this, O my son, is for thy good, for that this is an exceeding great
treasure, the kings of the world possess not its like, and it is thine
and mine." So poor Alaeddin forgot fatigue and beating and weeping, of
his amazement at the Maugrabin's speech and joy that he should become
rich after such a measure that even the kings would be no wealthier than
he, and said to him, "O my uncle, command me all thou wilt, for I will
be obedient unto thy commandment." And the Maugrabin said to him, "O
son of my brother, thou art as my very son, nay, dearer, for being my
brother's son. I have no kindred other than thyself and thou art my
natural heir and successor, O my son."

Therewith he came up to Alaeddin and kissed him saying, "All these my
toils, whom do they concern? [223] They are all for thy sake, O my son,
that I may make [224] thee a man rich and great [225] exceedingly; so
gainsay me not in aught that I shall tell thee; but go up to yonder ring
and raise it, as I bade thee." "O my uncle," quoth Alaeddin, "this stone
is heavy; I cannot raise it of myself, [226] so come thou also and help
me raise it, for I am little of years." "O son of my brother," replied
the Maugrabin, "it will not be possible for us to do aught, an I help
thee, and our toil will be wasted in vain; but do thou put thy hand to
the ring and raise it and it will immediately come up with thee; for, as
I said to thee, none may handle it but thou. But, when thou raisest
it, name thine own name and those of thy father and mother and it will
straightway rise with thee, nor shalt thou feel its weight."

Accordingly, Alaeddin took courage and summoning his resolution, did
as the Maugrabin bade him and raised the slab with all ease, whenas he
pronounced his own name and those of his father and his mother. So the
stone came up and he threw it aside; whereupon [227] there appeared to
him an underground place and its door, whereas one entered by a stair of
some dozen steps, and the Maugrabin said to him, "O Alaeddin, give heed
[228] and do punctually that which I shall tell thee, neither fail of
aught thereof. Go down with all circumspection into yonder vault till
thou come to the bottom thereof and thou wilt find there a place divided
into four chambers, [229] in each of which thou wilt see four jars of
gold and others of native ore and silver. Beware lest thou handle them
or take aught therefrom, but pass them by till thou come to the fourth
chamber, and let not thy clothes or thy skirts touch the jars, no, nor
the walls, and stay not one moment; for, an thou do contrary to this,
thou wilt forthright be transformed and wilt become a black stone. When
thou comest to the fourth chamber, thou wilt find there a door; open
it and speak the names which thou spokest over the slab; then enter and
thou wilt find thyself in a garden, all adorned with trees and fruits.
Thence do thou fare on some fifty cubits in the path thou wilt find
before thee and thou wilt come to a dais, [230] with [231] a stair of
some thirty steps. Above the dais thou [232] wilt find a lamp hung up;
take it and pour out the oil that is therein and put it in thy sleeve;
[233] and fear not for thy clothes therefrom, for that it [234] is not
oil. And as thou returnest, thou mayst pluck from the trees what thou
wilt, for that it is thine, what while the lamp abideth in thy hand."

When the Maugrabin had made an end of his speech, he drew from his
finger a ring and putting it on Alaeddin's finger, said to him, "And
this ring, O, my son, shall deliver thee from all hurt and all fear that
may betide thee, provided thou observe all that I have said to thee. So
now arise and go down; gird thy loins and summon up thy resolution and
fear not, for that thou art a man and not a child; and after this, O
my son, thou shalt in a little time become the richest of mankind."
So Alaeddin arose and going down into the underground, found the four
chambers and in each four jars of gold. He passed them by with all care
and precaution, even as the Maugrabin had bidden him, and entering the
garden, fared on there through till he came to the dais and mounting the
stair, entered [235] and found the lamp. So he quenched it and pouring
out the oil that was therein, put it in his sleeve; then, going down
into the garden, he fell to gazing upon its trees, whereon were birds
extolling with their songs [236] the perfection of the Great Creator,
and he had not seen them as he entered. Now the fruits of these trees
were all precious stones, each tree bearing fruit of one colour and
kind of jewel, and these fruits were of all colours, green and white and
yellow and red and what not else of colours. Their glitterance outshone
the rays of the sun in its forenoon splendour and the bigness of each
jewel overpassed description; suffice it that not one of them might be
found with the greatest of the kings of the world, [237] no, nor a gem
half the bigness of the smallest that was there.

Alaeddin [238] entered among the trees and proceeded to gaze upon them
and upon these things which amazed the sight and ravished the sense
and observing them, saw that, instead of fruits, they bore magnificent
jewels from the mines, emeralds and diamonds and rubies and pearls and
topazes [239] and the like of precious stones, such as confounded the
wit. Now, for that this was a thing Alaeddin had never in his life seen,
neither was he of ripe age, so he should know the value of these jewels,
by reason of his being yet a young lad, he thought that they were all
glass or crystal; so he gathered of them what filled his sleeves [240]
and fell to looking an they were grapes or figs and the like of fruits
that might be eaten or not; but, finding them like glass, he proceeded
to gather in his sleeve [241] of every kind that was upon the trees,
albeit he knew not jewels nor their worth, saying in himself, since he
had been baulked in his intent of eating, "I will gather of these fruits
of glass and will play with them at home." Accordingly he proceeded to
pluck and put in his pockets [242] and his sleeves [243] till he filled
them; after which he filled his girdle with the fruits and girt himself
withal; in fine, he carried off as much as he might, purposing to lay
them up with him in the house by way of ornament, for that he thought
them glass, as I have said. Then he quickened his pace, of his fear of
his uncle the Maugrabin, and hastened through the four chambers and the
[outer] vault nor looked, as he returned, at the jars of gold, albeit he
might now have taken of them. [244]

When he came to the stair [245] and ascended it and there remained to
him but a small matter, to wit, the last step, which was much higher
than the others, he could not avail to mount it of himself, having
regard to that which he was carrying; so he said to the Maugrabin, "O
my uncle, give me thy hand and help me up." Quoth he, "O my son, give
me the lamp and lighten thyself; maybe it is that which hindereth thee."
"Nay, O my uncle," answered Alaeddin, "the lamp hindereth me nought; but
do thou give me thy hand and when I am up, I will give thee the lamp."
The enchanter, who wanted the lamp and that only, fell to urging
Alaeddin to give it him; but the latter, having wrapped it within his
clothes, with purses [246] of jewel-fruits atop of it, [247] could
not reach it with his hand, so he might give it him. [248] The [249]
Maugrabin was instant with him to give him the lamp and was like to lose
his wits for rage, seeing he attained not his object, albeit Alaeddin
still promised him that he would give it him as soon as he was forth of
the vault, [and that] without lying thought or ill intent. Then, when he
saw that Alaeddin would not give it him, he was angry with an exceeding
anger and abandoning all hope of the lamp, conjured and enchanted and
cast perfumes into the midst of the fire; whereupon the slab immediately
turned over [250] and shut [251] of itself by the might of his
enchantments; the earth covered it like as it was before and Alaeddin
abode under the ground, unable to come forth.

Thus the enchanter--forasmuch as he was a stranger and no uncle of
Alaeddin, as he said, but had counterfeited himself and avouched
leasing, so he might get the lamp by means of the lad, unto whom that
treasure was fortuned by the stars-shut up [252] the earth upon him and
left him to die of hunger. Now this accursed Maugrabin wizard was from
the city of Africa [253] in Hither Barbary and had from his childhood
been addicted to magic and all the occult arts, for which the city in
question is renowned. He ceased not from his tenderest years to study
and learn in his native land Africa till he became versed in all
sciences, and of the much skill and proficiency which he acquired,
by dint of study and application for the space of forty years, in the
matter of incantations and conjurations, it was discovered to him, [254]
one day of the days, that among the uttermost of the cities of China
was a city called El Kelaas and in this city a vast treasure, the like
whereof no king of the kings of the world ever possessed; but the rarest
[was] that in this treasure [was] [255] a wonderful lamp, [256] whereat
if one should come, there might no man be found on earth richer than he,
whether in might or in wealth, nor might the greatest king in the
world avail unto aught of the riches of this lamp and its puissance and
virtue. Moreover [257] he saw that this treasure was to be achieved
by means of a lad of mean birth, by name Alaeddin, who was of the city
aforesaid, and that it was eath to take and unarduous: so he tarried
not, but equipped himself forthright for the voyage to China, as we have
said, and did that which he did with Alaeddin, thinking to come by the
lamp. But his endeavour was baffled and his expectation baulked and his
toil wasted in vain; whereupon he sought to kill Alaeddin and closed up
the earth upon him by his sorcery, so he might die (and the live hath
no slayer [258]); moreover, he purposed by this that Alaeddin should
not come forth and that the lamp should not be brought up from under the
earth. Then he went his ways and returned to his country Africa, woeful
and despairing of his hope.

So much for the enchanter and as for what came of Alaeddin, after the
earth closed over him, he fell to calling upon the Maugrabin, whom he
thought his uncle, to give him his hand, so he might come forth the
underground to the surface of the earth; but, when he found that none
returned him an answer, he was ware of the cheat which the Maugrabin had
put upon him and knew that he was none of his uncle, but a liar and a
sorcerer. Therewith he despaired of his life and knew, to his woe, that
there was no more going forth for him upon the face of the earth; so he
fell to weeping and lamenting over that which had befallen him. Then,
after a little, he arose and went down, that he might see if God the
Most High had vouchsafed him a door whereby he might go forth; and he
went seeking right and left, but saw nought save darkness and four walls
shut upon him; for that the Maugrabin sorcerer had by his enchantments
locked all the doors and had even shut up the garden, so he might leave
him no door whereby he should come forth upon the face of the earth
and so hasten his death upon him. Alaeddin's weeping redoubled and his
lamentation waxed when he saw all the doors shut and eke the garden, for
that he thought to solace himself with them [259] a little; but he found
them locked, so he fell to crying out and weeping, as he whose hope is
cut off, and returning, sat down upon the steps of the stair whereby he
had entered the vault, weeping [260] and wailing; and indeed he had lost
hope.

But it is a small matter for God (extolled be His perfection and exalted
be He) whenas He willeth a thing, to say to it "Be," and it is; for that
He createth relief out of the midst of stress; by token that, when the
Maugrabin enchanter sent Alaeddin down into the vault, he gave him a
ring and put it on his finger, saying, "This ring will deliver thee from
all stress, an thou be in calamities or vicissitudes, and will remove
from thee troubles; yea, it will be thy helper whereassoever thou art;"
and this was by the foreordinance of God the Most High, so it might be
the means of Alaeddin's deliverance. So, as he sat weeping and bewailing
his case and indeed his hope was cut off of life and despair was heavy
upon him, he fell, of the excess of his anguish, to wringing [261] his
hands, after the wont of the woeful; then, raising them [to heaven], he
made supplication to God, saying, "I testify that there is no God but
Thou alone, the Mighty, the Powerful, the Conquering, the Giver of Life
and Death, [262] Creator and Accomplisher [263] of necessities, Resolver
of difficulties and perplexities and Dispeller thereof, [264] Thou
my sufficiency, Thou the most excellent Guardian, and I testify that
Mohammed is Thy servant and Thine apostle. O my God, I conjure Thee, by
his [265] glory with Thee, deliver me from my extremity."

Whilst he was thus supplicating God and wringing his hands in the
excess of his affliction for that which had befallen him of calamity,
he chanced to rub upon the ring, and immediately, behold, a genie [266]
rose up before him and said to him, "Here am I; thy slave is before
thee. Seek whatsoever thou wilt, for that I am his slave who hath the
ring in hand, the ring of my lord." [267] Alaeddin looked and saw a
Marid, [268] as he were of the Jinn of our lord Solomon, standing before
him, and shuddered at his frightful aspect; but, when he heard the genie
say to him, "Seek whatsoever thou wilt, for that I am thy slave, since
the ring of my lord is on thy hand," he took heart and bethought him
of the Maugrabin's speech to him, whenas he gave him the ring. So he
rejoiced exceedingly and took courage and said to him, "O slave of the
lord of the ring, I will of thee that thou bring me out upon the face of
the earth." Hardly had he made an end of that his speech when, behold,
the earth opened and he found himself without, at the door of the
treasure, to wit, upon the surface of the earth.

Now, he had been three days under the earth, sitting in the treasure in
the dark; so, when the light of day smote on his face and the rays of
the sun, he might not unclose his eyes, but took to opening them little
by little and shutting them again till they became stronger and grew
used to the light and were cleared of the darkness. Then, [269] seeing
himself upon the surface of the earth, he rejoiced exceedingly, but
marvelled to find himself overagainst the entrance of the treasure,
whereby he went down, whenas the Maugrabin enchanter opened it; and now
the stone was shut down and the earth levelled, nor was there any sign
therein of a door. So he redoubled in wonderment and thought himself
otherwhere; nor was he assured that he was in the very place, till
he saw whereas they had kindled the fire of sticks and brushwood
and whereas the Maugrabin enchanter had made his fumigations and
conjurations. Then he turned right and left and saw the gardens afar off
and looked at the way and knew it for that by which they had come. So he
gave thanks to God the Most High, who had brought him out on the earth's
face and had delivered him from death, after he had given up hope of
life. Then he arose and fared homeward, by the way which he knew, till
he came to the city and entering, betook himself to their house and
went in to his mother. When he saw her, he fell down before her, of
the greatness of the joy which possessed him for his deliverance, and
swooned away for the affright and the weariness which he had suffered,
more by token that he was weak with hunger.

Now his mother had been woebegone since he left her and sat wailing and
weeping for him; so, when she saw him come in to her, she rejoiced in
him with an exceeding joy, but grief overwhelmed her, whenas she saw
him fall aswoon upon the earth. However, she wasted no time in vain
lamentation, but hastened to sprinkle water on his face and sought of
her neighbours somewhat of perfumes, to which she made him smell. When
he was a little recovered, he prayed her bring him somewhat to eat,
saying to her, "O my mother, these three days past I have eaten
nothing." So she arose and setting before him that which she had ready,
said to him, "Rise, O my son, eat and restore thyself; and when thou
art rested, tell me what hath happened to thee and what calamity hath
befallen thee. I will not question thee now, because thou art weary."
So, [270] when he had eaten and drunken and had refreshed himself and
was rested and restored, he said to her, "Alack, mother mine, I have a
sore grief against thee in that thou leftest me to yonder accursed man,
who strove for my destruction. Indeed, he sought to kill me; nay, I saw
death face to face from that accursed wretch, whom thou deemedst mine
uncle, and but for God the Most High, who delivered me from him, [I had
perished]. Marry, both I and thou, O my mother, suffered ourselves to be
deluded by him after the measure of that which the accursed promised
to do with me of good and of the love which he professed for me. Know,
then, O my mother, that this man is an accursed Maugrabin enchanter,
a liar, a deceiver, an impostor and a hypocrite; methinketh the devils
that be under the earth are not his match, may God put him to shame in
every book! [271] Hear, O my mother, what this accursed did; nay, all
I shall tell thee is truth and soothfastness. Do but see the villain's
duplicity; bethink thee of the promises he made me that he would do me
all manner of good [272] and the love he professed to me, and how he did
all this that he might accomplish his purpose; nay, his intent was to
kill me, and praised be God for my deliverance! Hearken, O my mother,
and learn what this accursed one did."

Then he told her all that had befallen him from the time of his leaving
her, weeping the while for excess of joy; how the Maugrabin brought
him to the hill, wherein was the treasure, and how he conjured and
fumigated. "And indeed. O my mother," said he, "there overcame me
exceeding fear, whenas the hill clove in sunder and the earth opened
before me by his enchantments; and I quaked with terror at the voice of
the thunder which I heard and the darkness which befell of his spells
and fumigations, and of my dismay at these portents, I would have fled.
When he saw me offer to flee, he reviled me and smote me, dealing me
a buffet which caused me swoon for pain [273] but, inasmuch as the
treasure was opened and he could not go down into it himself, seeing he
had opened it by my means and that it was in name and not for him, he
knew, being a foul sorcerer, that it might [only] be achieved through me
and that this adventure was [reserved] for me. [274] Accordingly [275]
he applied himself to make his peace with me, that he might send me down
into the treasure, now it was opened, and attain his object by my means;
and when he sent me down, he gave me a ring, which he had on his hand,
and put it on my finger. So I descended into the treasure and found four
chambers, all full of gold and silver and the like; but this all was
nothing and the accursed one charged me take nought thereof. Thence I
entered a magnificent garden, [276] all full of high trees, whose
fruits ravished the wits, O my mother, for that they were all of
various-coloured crystal, [277] and I fared on till I came to the
pavilion [278] wherein was this lamp; whereupon I took it forthright and
quenching it, poured out that which was therein."

[So saying,] he pulled out the lamp from his sleeve and showed it to his
mother. Moreover, he showed her the jewels which he had brought from
the garden. Now there were two great purses [279] full of these jewels,
whereof not one was to be found with the kings of mankind; and Alaeddin
knew not their value, but thought that they were glass or crystal.
"Then, O my mother," continued he, "after I had fetched the lamp and had
gone forth [the garden] and came to the door of the treasure, I cried
out to the accursed Maugrabin, who feigned himself my uncle, to give me
his hand and pull me up, for I was laden with things which weighed me
down, so that it was not possible for me to mount alone. However, he
would not give me his hand, but said to me, 'Reach me the lamp that
is with thee, and after I will give thee my hand and pull thee up.'
I, seeing that I had put the lamp within my sleeve and the purses atop
[280] of it, could not reach it to give it to him and said to him, 'O
my-uncle, I cannot give thee the lamp. When I come up, I will give it
to thee.' But he would not help me up; nay, he would e'en have the lamp,
and his intent was to take it from me and turn back the earth over me
and destroy me, even as he did with me in the end. This, then, O my
mother, was what befell me from that foul wizard." And he told her all
that had passed between them from first to last and fell to reviling
the Maugrabin with all rancour and heat of heart, saying, "Out on this
accursed one, this foul sorcerer, this hard-hearted oppressor, this
inhuman, perfidious, hypocritical villain, lacking [281] all mercy and
ruth!"

When [282] Alaeddin's mother heard her son's speech and that which the
accursed Maugrabin did with him, she said to him, "Yea, verily, O my
son, he is a misbeliever and a hypocrite, who destroyeth folk with his
sorcery; but glory [283] to God the Most High, who hath delivered thee
from the perfidy and guile of this accursed sorcerer, of whom I thought
that he was in very deed thine uncle." Now, Alaeddin had passed three
days without sleep and found himself drowsy; so he [withdrew to his
chamber and] slept. His mother did likewise and Alaeddin ceased not to
sleep till next day, [284] near noontide, when he awoke and immediately
sought somewhat to eat, for that he was anhungred; and his mother said
to him, "O my son, I have nought to give thee to eat, for that all I had
by me thou atest yesterday. But wait awhile; I have here a little yarn
by me and I am going down to the market, so I may sell it and buy thee
withal somewhat thou mayst eat." "O my mother," rejoined Alaeddin, "keep
the yarn and sell it not; but give me the lamp which I brought home,
so I may arise and sell it and with its price buy somewhat we may eat.
Methinketh it will fetch more than the yarn." So she arose and fetched
the lamp; but, finding it exceeding dirty, she said to him, "O my son,
this lamp is dirty, and if we wash it and furbish it, it will sell for
a better price." Accordingly she took a little sand and fell to scouring
the lamp withal; but scarce had she begun to rub it when there appeared
to her one of the Jinn, foul of favour and monstrous of make as he were
of the giants, and said to her, "Say what thou wilt of me. Here am I,
thy slave and the slave of whoso hath in his hand the lamp; and not I
alone, but all the slaves of the wonderful lamp that is in thy hand."
When she saw his frightful aspect, she trembled and fear get hold upon
her and her tongue was tied, nor could she return an answer, for that
she was not used to look upon apparitions like unto this; so [285] she
fell down aswoon of her terror.

Now Alaeddin her son was standing afar off and he had seen the slave
of the ring which he had rubbed in the treasure; so, when he heard the
genie's speech to his mother, he hastened to take the lamp from her hand
and said to him, "O slave of the lamp, I am hungry; my will is that
thou bring me somewhat I may eat, and be it somewhat good past conceit."
[286] The genie was absent the twinkling of an eye and [returning,]
brought him a great costly tray of sheer silver, whereon were twelve
platters of various kinds and colours [287] of rich meats and two silver
cups and two flagons [288] of clarified old wine and bread whiter than
snow; all which he set before him and disappeared. So Alaeddin arose and
sprinkled rosewater on his mother's face and made her smell to strong
[289] perfumes; whereupon she revived and he said to her, "Rise, O
my mother, so we may eat of this food that God the Most High hath
vouchsafed us." [290] When she saw the great silver tray, she marvelled
and said to Alaeddin, "O my son, who is the generous, the bountiful one
that hath sought out our hunger [291] and our poverty? Indeed, we are
beholden to him. [292] Apparently the Sultan hath heard of our case and
our wretchedness and hath sent us this tray." "O my mother," answered
Alaeddin, "this is no time for questioning; rise, so we may eat, for we
are anhungred."

So they arose and sitting down to the tray, proceeded to eat, whilst
Alaeddin's mother tasted food such as she had never in all her life
eaten. And they ate diligently [293] with all appetite, for stress of
hunger, more by token that the food [was such as] is given to kings,
nor knew they if the tray were precious or not, for that never in their
lives had they seen the like of these things. When they had made an end
of eating and were full (and there was left them, over and above what
sufficed them, [enough] for the evening-meal and for the next day
also), they arose and washing their hands, sat down to talk; whereupon
Alaeddin's mother turned to her son and said to him, "O my son, tell me
what befell of [294] the genie, now that, praised be God, we have eaten
of His bounty and are satisfied and thou hast no pretext for saying
to me, 'I am anhungred.'" So he told her all that had passed between
himself and the genie, whenas she fell down aswoon of her affright;
whereat exceeding wonderment took her and she said to him, "It is true,
then, [295] that the Jinn appear to the sons of Adam, though I, O my
son, in all my days, I have never seen them, and methinketh this is
he who delivered thee, whenas thou west in the treasure." "Nay, O my
mother," answered he, "this was not he; he who appeared to thee is the
slave of the lamp." "How so, [296] O my son?" asked she; and he said,
"This slave is other of make than that. That was the servant of the ring
and this thou sawest is the slave of the lamp which was in thy hand."
When [297] his mother heard this, "Well, well!" cried she. "Then the
accursed who appeared to me and came nigh to kill me for affright is
of the lamp?" "Ay is he," answered Alaeddin; and she said to him, "I
conjure thee, O my son, by the milk thou suckedst of me, that thou cast
away from thee both lamp and ring, for that they will be to us a cause
of exceeding fear and I could not endure to see them [298] a second
time; nay, their commerce is forbidden unto us, for that the prophet
(whom God bless and keep) warneth us against them." [299] "O my mother,"
answered Alaeddin, "thy speech is on my head and eyes; [300] but, as for
this that thou sayest, it may not be that I should cast away either the
lamp or the ring; nay, thou seest that which it [301] did with us of
good, whenas we were anhungred, and know, O my mother, that the lying
Maugrabin enchanter, what time I went down into the treasure, sought
nought of gold nor of silver, whereof the four places were full, but
charged me bring him the lamp and that only, for that he knew the
greatness of its virtues; [302] and except he knew it to be exceeding of
might, he had not toiled and travailed and come from his land to this in
quest of it, nor had he shut the treasure on me, whenas he failed of the
lamp, seeing I gave it him not. Wherefore, O my mother, it behoveth us
keep this lamp and guard it with all care, for that this is our support
and this it is shall enrich us; and it behoveth us show it not unto any.
On like wise, as for the ring, it may not be that I should put it off
from my finger, forasmuch as, but for this ring, thou hadst not seen me
again on life; nay, I had died under the earth within the treasure; so
how can I put it off from my hand and who knoweth what may happen to
me in time to come of error or calamity or shift of the shifts of
mischance, from which the ring might deliver me? However, of regard for
thy wish, I will lay up the lamp and let thee not see it henceforth."
When his mother heard his words and pondered them, she saw them to be
just and true and said to him, "O my son, do what thou wilt. For my
part, I wish never to see them nor ever again to behold that loathsome
aspect [303] which I saw [but now]."

Alaeddin [304] and his mother abode two days eating of the food which
the genie had brought, and when it was finished and he knew that there
was left them nothing to eat, he arose and taking a platter of those
which the slave had brought on the tray (now they were of fine gold,
but Alaeddin knew it not) went with it to the market, where a Jew, a
man viler than devils themselves, accosted [305] him and he gave him the
platter. When the Jew saw it, he took Alaeddin aside, so none might see
him, and examining the platter, found it of fine gold, [306] but knew
not if Alaeddin was ware of its worth or if he was ignorant thereof; so
he said to him, "How much, O my lord, for this platter?" And Alaeddin
answered him, saying, "Thou knowest how much it is worth." The Jew was
perplexed how much he should give Alaeddin for the platter, by reason of
his having made him an adroit answer, and bethought himself to give him
little, but feared lest he should be aware of its value and debated with
himself if he should give him much. Then said he in himself, "Most like
he knoweth not its value;" so he brought out of his pocket a gold diner
and gave it to him. When Alaeddin saw the diner in his hand, he took it
and went off in haste, whereby the Jew knew that the lad was unaware
of the value of the plate and repented him sore that he had given him a
gold diner and not a carat of three-score: [307]

Meanwhile Alaeddin tarried not, but went forthright to the baker and
bought of him bread and changed the diner; then, returning to his
mother, he gave her the bread and the rest of the money and said to her,
"O my mother, go and buy us what we need." So she arose and going to the
market, bought all that they needed and they ate and were cheered.
Then, whenassoever the price of a platter was spent, Alaeddin would take
another and carry it to the Jew; on which wise the accursed Jew bought
them all of him for a small matter and would fain also have reduced the
price; but, since he had given him a diner the first time, he feared to
offer him less, lest the lad should go and sell to another [308] and he
lose that excessive profit. Accordingly, Alaeddin ceased not to sell him
platter after platter till he had sold them all and there was left
him only the tray whereon they had been; then, for that it was big and
heavy, he went and fetched the Jew to the house and brought out to him
the tray. When he saw it and noted its bigness, he gave Alaeddin ten
diners, which he took, and the Jew went his way.

Alaeddin and his mother lived upon the ten diners till they came to an
end; then he arose and bringing out the lamp, rubbed it, whereupon the
slave of the lamp, to wit, the genie whom he had seen before, appeared
to him and [309] said to him, "Seek what thou wilt, O my lord, for that
I am thy slave and the slave of whoso hath with him the lamp." Quoth
Alaeddin, "It is my will that thou bring me a tray of food like unto
that which thou broughtest me erewhen, for that I am hungry;" and the
slave brought him, in the twinkling of an eye, a tray like unto that
which he had brought him before, and on it twelve magnificent platters
full of rich meats, together with flagons [310] of clarified wine and
bread of the finest. Now Alaeddin's mother, when she knew that her son
was minded to rub the lamp, had gone out, so she might not see the genie
again; but, after a little, she came in to him and seeing the tray full
of silver platters, whilst the whole house reeked with the fragrance of
the rich meats, marvelled and rejoiced; and Alaeddin said to her, "O
my mother, thou badest me throw away the lamp. See now its uses." "O my
son," answered she, "may God prosper him; [311] but fain would I not see
him." Then they sat down to the tray and ate and drank till they were
satisfied, laying up that which remained with them against the morrow.

Then, when that which was with them of food was finished, Alaeddin arose
and taking one of the platters under his clothes, went in quest of the
Jew, so he might sell it to him; but, as chance willed it, he passed by
the shop of a goldsmith, an honest, pious man, who feared God. When the
latter saw Alaeddin, he accosted him and said to him, "O my son, what
wilt thou? This many a time have I seen thee pass hereby and betake
thyself to such an one, a Jew, and I have seen thee give him certain
things. Nay, methinketh even now thou hast somewhat with thee and art
seeking him, so thou mayst sell it to him. But thou knowest not, O my
son, that the good of the Muslims, believers in the unity of God the
Most High, is lawful spoil in the eyes of Jews; nay, they still cheat
the Muslims and especially this accursed one with whom thou dealest and
into whose hands thou hast fallen. Wherefore, O my son, an thou have
with thee aught thou wouldst sell, show it to me and fear nothing, for
that, by the truth of God the Most High, I will give thee its price."
Accordingly, Alaeddin brought out the platter to the old man, who took
it and weighing it in his scales, said to him, "Was it the like of this
thou usest to sell to the Jew?" "Ay," replied Alaeddin, "its like and
its brother." "And how much," asked the goldsmith, "useth he to give
thee to its price?" And Alaeddin said, "He useth to give me a diner."

When [312] the goldsmith heard this, "Out on this accursed one," cried
he, "who fleeceth the servants of God the Most High!" Then he looked
at Alaeddin and said to him, "O my son, this Jew is a cheat, who hath
cheated thee and laughed at thee, for that the silver of this thy
platter is pure and fine; and I have weighed it and find its worth
threescore diners and ten; so, an it please thee take its price, take
[it]." Accordingly, he counted out to him seventy diners and he took
them and thanked him for his kindness, in that he had shown him the
Jew's trickery. Thenceforward, whenassoever the price of one platter was
spent, he would carry another to the old goldsmith, and on this wise he
and his mother increased in substance; but they ceased not to live at
their sufficiency, [313] midwise [betwixt rich and poor], [314] without
excessive spending [315] or squandering. As for Alaeddin, he left
idleness and the commerce of striplings and took to consorting with
grown men; [316] nay, he would go every day to the market of the
merchants and sit with the great and the small of them and question
of the ways and fashions of commerce and the prices of articles of
merchandise [317] and otherwhat. He used also to go to the market of the
goldsmiths and the market of the jewellers, and there he would sit and
look upon the different kinds of jewels and see them bought and sold;
whereby he became aware that the fruits of the trees, wherewith he had
filled the purses, [318] whenas he was in the treasure, were neither
glass nor crystal, but jewels, and knew that he had happened upon great
wealth, such as kings might nowise compass. Moreover, he noted all
the jewels that were in the jewellers' market, but saw not [among] the
biggest [of them] one to match with the smallest of those he had at
home.

He ceased not to go daily to the market of the jewellers and to clap
up acquaintance with the folk, making friends with them and questioning
them of buying and selling and giving and taking and dear and cheap,
till, one day of the days, he arose in the morning and donning his
clothes, went forth, intending, as of wont, for the jewellers' market;
but, as he went, he heard the crier proclaiming aloud on this wise, "By
commandment of the Lord of Beneficence, the king of the age and monarch
of the time and the tide, let all the folk shut their shops and stores
and enter their houses, for that the Lady Bedrulbudour, daughter of
the Sultan, purposeth to go to the bath, and whoso transgresseth the
commandment, his punishment shall be death and his blood be on his own
head." [319] When Alaeddin heard this proclamation, he longed to look
upon the Sultan's daughter and said in himself, "All the folk talk of
her grace and goodliness, and the uttermost of my desire is to see her."
So [320] he cast about for a device how he might contrive to see the
Lady Bedrulbudour and him-seemed he were best stand behind the door of
the bath, that he might see her face, as she entered. Accordingly he
betook himself to the bath, awhile in advance, and posted himself behind
the door, whereas none of the folk might see him.

Presently, the Sultan's daughter came forth and went round about the
city and its thoroughfares and diverted herself by viewing it; then
she repaired to the bath and when she came thither, she lifted her
face-veil, as she entered; whereupon her face shone out, as it were the
resplendent sun or a precious pearl, and she was as saith of her one of
her describers:

   Who sprinkled the kohl of enchantment upon her eyes
        And gathered the bloom of the rose from her cheeks, fruit-wise?
   And who was it let down the curtained night of her hair
        And eke through its glooms made the light of her forehead rise?

When she raised the veil from her face and Alaeddin saw her, he said,
"Verily, her fashion glorifieth the Great Creator and extolled be the
perfection of Him who made her and graced her with this beauty and
goodliness!" And his back was cloven in sunder, [321] when he saw her;
his thought was confounded and his understanding [322] dazed and
the love of her gat hold upon his whole heart; so he turned back and
returning home, went in to his mother, like one distraught. She bespoke
him and he answered her neither yea nor nay; then she brought him the
morning-meal, as he abode on this wise, and said to him, "O my son, what
hath betided thee? Doth there ail thee aught? Tell me what hath befallen
thee, for that, against thy wont, I bespeak thee and thou answerest me
not."

Now Alaeddin had been used to think that women were all like his mother
and he had heard of the beauty of the Lady Bedrulbudour, daughter of the
Sultan, but had not known what beauty and grace were; so he turned to
his mother and said to her, "Leave me;" but she was instant with him
to come and eat. Accordingly, he came forward and ate a little; then,
rising, he threw himself on his bed and lay musing till break of morn;
and on this wise he abode all next day. His mother was perplexed at his
case, unknowing what had befallen him, and bethought herself that belike
he was sick; so she came up to him and questioned him, saying, "O my
son, an thou feel aught of pain or otherwhat, tell me, that I may go
fetch thee a physician, more by token there is presently in the city a
physician from the land of the Arabs, whom the Sultan hath sent to bring
hither, and report saith of him that he is exceeding skilful; so [tell
me] if thou art sick, that I may go and call him to thee."

When [323] Alaeddin heard his mother offer to fetch him the physician,
he said to her, "O my mother, I am well and not sick, but I had thought
that women were all like unto thee. However, yesterday, I saw the Lady
Bedrulbudour, the Sultan's daughter, as she went to the bath;" and
he told her all that had happened to him, adding, "And most like thou
heardest the crier proclaiming that none should open his shop nor stand
in the road, so the Lady Bedrulbudour might pass to the bath; but I saw
her even as she is, for that, when she came to the door of the bath, she
lifted her veil, and when I noted her favour and viewed that noble form
of hers, there befell me, O my mother, a passion of yearning for love of
her and desire of her [324] usurped mine every part; nor can I ever more
have ease, except I get her, and I purpose, therefore, to demand her of
the Sultan her father in the way of law and righteousness."

When Alaeddin's mother heard her son's speech, she thought little of
his wit and said to him, "O my son, the name of God encompass thee!
Meseemeth thou hast lost thy wit; return to thy senses, [325] O my son,
and be not like the madmen!" "Nay, O my mother," replied he, "I have
not lost my wits nor am I mad; and this thy speech shall not change that
which is in my mind, nor is rest possible to me except I get the darling
of my heart, the lovely Lady Bedrulbudour. And my intent is to demand
her of her father the Sultan." So she said to him, "O my son, my life
upon thee, speak not thus, lest one hear thee and say of thee that thou
art mad. Put away from thee this extravagance: [326] who shall undertake
an affair like this and demand it of the Sultan? Meknoweth not how thou
wilt do to make this request of the Sultan, and if thou speak sooth,
[327] by whom wilt thou make it?" "O my mother," rejoined Alaeddin, "by
whom [should I make] a request like this, when thou art at hand, and
whom have I trustier [328] than thyself? Wherefore my intent is that
thou shalt make this request for me." "O my son," quoth she, "God
deliver me from this! What, have I lost my wits like thee? Put away this
thought from thy mind and bethink thee who thou art, O my son,--the son
of a tailor, the poorest and least of the tailors in this city, and I
also am thy mother and my folk are exceeding poor; so how wilt thou dare
to demand the Sultan's daughter, whom her father would not vouchsafe
to marry with kings' sons and Sultans, except they were his peers in
puissance and rank and noblesse; nay, were they one degree less than he,
he would not give them his daughter."

Alaeddin [329] waited till his mother had made an end of her speech and
said to her, "O my mother, all that thou thinkest I know; marry, I know
full well that I am the son of poor folk, nor may all this thy talk
anywise avail to move me from my purpose; but I beseech thee, an I be
thy very son and thou love me, do me this kindness; else wilt thou lose
me, for death hasteneth upon me, an I attain not my wish of the beloved
of my heart. In any case, O my mother, I am thy son." When his mother
heard his speech, she wept of her concern for him and said to him, "Yes,
O my son, I am thy mother and thou art my son and the darling of my
heart; [330] I have none other than thee and the extreme of my desire is
to rejoice in thee and marry thee. So, an thou wilt, I will seek thee a
bride of our own rank. But suppose [I do this], they [331] [will] ask at
once an thou have craft or land or trade or garden, so thou mayst live,
and what shall I answer them. And if I cannot answer poor folk like
ourselves, how, O my son, shall I dare to seek the King's daughter of
China, who hath none before him and none after him? Wherefore do thou
ponder this matter in thine understanding. And who seeketh her? The son
of a tailor. [332] Indeed, I know that, an I speak of this, it will but
be for the increase of our ill luck, for that this affair will bring us
in great danger with the Sultan and belike there will be death therein
for thee and for me. As for me, how can I adventure upon this danger and
this effrontery? Moreover, O my son, on what wise shall I demand thee
his daughter of the Sultan and how shall I avail to go in to him? Nay,
if they question me, what shall I answer them? Most like they will deem
me a madwoman. And suppose I gain admission to the presence, what shall
I take by way of offering to the Sultan's highness? It [333] is true, O
my son, that the Sultan is clement and rejecteth none that cometh to him
for protection or craveth a boon of him, for that he is bountiful and
beneficent unto all, great and small; [334] but he bestoweth his favours
upon those who are deserving thereof or who have done some feat of arms
before him or have wrought for the service or defence of the realm; and
thou, O my son, tell me, what hast thou done for [335] the Sultan or the
realm, that thou shouldst merit of him this boon? Again, this that thou
cravest is beyond thy condition; [336] so it cannot be that the king
will grant thee that which thou seekest. Moreover, whoso presenteth
himself before the Sultan and craveth favours of him, it behoveth him
take in his hand somewhat that sorteth with the royal dignity; and as
I said to thee, how canst thou presume to present thyself before the
Sultan and seek of him his daughter, without aught thou mayst proffer
him of that which sorteth with his rank?"

"O my mother," replied Alaeddin, "thou speakest justly and deemest that
which is true, [337] and it behoveth me consider all that whereof thou
mindest me; but, O my mother, the love of the Sultan's daughter, the
Lady Bedrulbudour, hath entered into the innermost of my heart; and
there can be no rest for me, except I obtain her. Moreover, thou mindest
me of somewhat I had forgotten, and that a thing which emboldeneth me to
seek of him his daughter by thee. Thou sayst, O my mother, that I have
no gift to present to the Sultan, according to the wont of the folk,
whilst in fact I have by me a gift and an offering, the like whereof
methinketh no king ever possessed, no, nor aught to match therewith; for
[338] thou must know, O my mother, that the fruits, which I brought in
the purses [339] from the treasure and which I deemed glass or crystal,
are very jewels, methinketh all the kings of the world may not compass
the least of them, and I, of my companying with the jewellers, know that
they are precious stones. Wherefore, an thou please, have the goodness
to rise and bring me such a China dish which we have by us, [340] that
I may fill it with these jewels, and thou shalt take it as a present to
the Sultan. By this means I am assured that the thing will be easy to
thee, and do thou stand before the Sultan and seek of him my desire;
but, O my mother, an thou refuse to further me with thine endeavour for
the attainment of my wish of the Lady Bedrulbudour, know that I am a
dead man. Be not concerned for the gift, for these be exceeding precious
jewels, and know, O my mother, that I have gone many a time to the
market of the jewellers and have seen them sell jewels, that had not an
hundredth part [341] of the beauty of these of ours, at exceeding high
prices such as man's wit cannot conceive. When, therefore, I saw this,
I said [in myself], 'Verily, the jewels that are with us are exceeding
precious.' So now, O my mother, arise, as I bade thee, and fetch me the
China dish whereof I bespoke thee, that we may range of these jewels
therein and see how they show."

Accordingly, she arose and brought the China dish, saying in herself,
"Let us see if my son's speech be true concerning these jewels or not."
So she set the dish before Alaeddin and he brought out jewels of all
kinds from the purses and proceeded to range them in the dish till he
filled it. When it was full, his mother looked at the dish, but could
not gaze fixedly thereon, for the radiance of the jewels and their
lustre and the excess of their flashing; so she shut her eyes and her
wit was confounded at them; yet was she not certified that their value
was in very deed so great as her son had said, but bethought her that
his speech might be true in that their like was not found with kings.
Then Alaeddin turned to her and said, "See, O my mother, this is a
magnificent present for the Sultan and I am assured that thou wilt
get of him exceeding honour and that he will receive thee with all
consideration. And now, O my mother, there remaineth to thee no excuse;
so be good enough [342] to take this dish and go with it to the palace."


"O my son," replied she, "true it is that the present is exceedingly
costly and precious and as thou sayest, none hath the like thereof;
but who shall dare to come forward and seek of the Sultan his daughter
Bedrulbudour? Nay, I dare not adventure myself and say to him, 'I want
thy daughter,' whenas he asketh me, 'What wouldst thou?' Marry, O my
son,, my tongue will be tied. And grant that Allah make [the thing]
possible and I take courage and say to him, 'I desire to ally myself
to thee by [marrying] thy daughter the Lady Bedrulbudour with my son
Alaeddin,' they will straightway deem me mad and will put me out with
ignominy and reproach; nay, I need not tell thee that by this I shall
fall into danger of death, and not I only, but thou also. Withal, O my
son, of regard for thy wish, needs must I take courage and go; but, O my
son, if the King receive me and honour me for the gift's sake and I seek
of him that which thou wilt in [343] the matter of marrying his daughter
and he ask me, after the wont of the folk, what are thy possessions and
thy revenues, what shall I say to him? And most like, O my son, he will
ask me of this ere he ask me of thyself." And Alaeddin said to her,
"Nay, it cannot be that the Sultan will ask this, whenas he seeth the
jewels and their magnificence, and it booteth not to think of a thing
that will not happen. Do thou but rise and seek me his daughter of him
and proffer him these jewels and sit not magnifying the affair in thy
thought beforehand. Moreover, O my mother, thou knowest of the lamp
which is with me and which presently provideth for our livelihood; [344]
nay, all that I seek of it it will bring me, and I trust by its means I
shall know how to answer the Sultan, an he ask me of this."

They abode in talk of the matter all that night and when the morning
morrowed, Alaeddin's mother arose and fortified her heart, more by token
that her son expounded to her somewhat of the properties of the lamp and
its uses, in that it would bring them all they sought. But, when he saw
that she heartened herself for that which he set forth to her of its
virtues, he feared lest she should talk of this to the folk, so he said
to her, "O my mother, beware lest thou bespeak any of the lamp and its
uses, for that this is our fortune; be careful [345] and exceed not in
speech thereof to any one, lest we lose it and lose this our present
prosperity, for that it is from it." [346] "Have no fear for that, O my
son," answered she and rising, took the dish wherein were the jewels
and wrapping it in a fine handkerchief, went forth betimes, so she might
reach the Divan and enter, ere it became crowded. When she came to the
palace, the Divan was not yet assembled [347] and she saw the Vizier and
certain of the chiefs of the state entering the presence-chamber. After
a while, the Divan being complete with the Viziers and the chiefs of the
state and officers and Amirs and grandees, the Sultan appeared and the
Viziers and other the officials and notables ranged themselves before
him, whilst he sat down on the throne of his kingship and all who were
present in the Divan stood before him, with hands clasped behind them,
[348] awaiting his commandment to sit. So he bade them be seated and
they all sat down, each in his several room; then the petitioners [349]
presented themselves before the Sultan and each affair was decided in
its course, [350] till the Divan came to an end, when the King rose and
entered the palace and each went his way.

As [351] for Alaeddin's mother, having come before all, she found room
to enter, but withal none bespoke her, so he should bring her in before
the Sultan; wherefore she ceased not standing till the Divan broke up
and the Sultan rose and entered the palace and all went their ways. When
she saw the Sultan rise from his throne and enter the harem, she
took her way homeward and returning on her steps, entered her house.
Alaeddin, seeing her with the dish in her hand, knew that most like
some mischance had betided her, but cared not to question her till she
entered and setting down the dish, told him what had passed and finally
said to him, "God be praised, O my son, I mustered courage to find
myself a place in the Divan, albeit I could not win to speak with the
Sultan to day; but to-morrow, an it please God the Most High, I will
bespeak him. To-day there were many other folk, like myself, unable
to get speech of the Sultan; but be easy, O my son; to-morrow I will
without fail bespeak him on thy behalf, and what happened not shall
happen." When Alaeddin heard his mother's words, he rejoiced with an
exceeding joy, albeit, of the excess of his love and longing for the
Lady Bedrulbudour, he had looked for the matter to be accomplished then
and there; nevertheless, he used patience.

They slept that night and on the morrow Alaeddin's mother arose and went
with the dish to the Sultan's Divan, but found it closed; so she asked
the folk and they said to her, "The Sultan holdeth a Divan but thrice
a week;" wherefore she was compelled [352] to return home. Then she
proceeded to go every day, and whenas she found the Divan open, she
would stand before the door, [353] till it broke up, when she would
return home; and whiles she went and found the Divan closed. [354] On
this wise she abode a week's space [355] and the Sultan saw her at
each Divan; so, when she went on the last day [of the week] and stood,
according to her wont, before the Divan, till it was ended, but could
not muster courage to enter [356] or say aught, the Sultan arose and
entering the harem, turned to his chief Vizier, who was with him, and
said to him, "O Vizier, these six or seven days [357] past I have seen
yonder old woman come hither at every Divan and I note that she still
carrieth somewhat under her veil. [358] Hast thou any knowledge of her,
O Vizier, and knowest thou what is her want?" "O our lord the Sultan,"
replied the Vizier, "verily women are little of wit; and most like this
woman cometh to complain to thee of her husband or one of her folk,"
The Sultan was not content with the Vizier's reply, but bade him, an
she came again to the Divan, bring her before him forthright; [359]
whereupon the Vizier laid his hand on his head and answered, "Hearkening
and obedience, O our lord the Sultan."

Meanwhile, [360] Alaeddin's mother, albeit she was grown exceeding weary
and dejected, yet made light of all weariness, for her son's sake, and
continued, as of her wont, to go every court-day and stand in the Divan
before the Sultan. [361] Accordingly, one day of the days, she went to
the Divan, as of her wont, and stood before the Sultan; and when he saw
her, he called his Vizier and said to him, "Yonder is the woman of whom
I bespoke thee yesterday; bring her now before me, so I may see what
her suit is and accomplish unto her her occasion." So the Vizier arose
forthright and let bring Alaeddin's mother in before the Sultan. When
she came into the latter's presence, she made her obeisance to him and
did him reverence, wishing him glory and continuance and eternity of
prosperity and kissing the ground before him. Then said he to her, "O
woman, I see thee come every day to the Divan and thou speakest not of
aught. Tell me an thou have a want, that I may accomplish it unto thee;"
whereupon she kissed the earth a second time and called down blessings
upon him, then answered, "Ay, O King of the Age, as thy head liveth,
I have indeed a want; but before all things do thou give me thine
assurance, [362] so I may make bold to prefer my suit to the hearing of
our lord the Sultan, for that belike Thy Grace will find it a strange
one."

The Sultan, that he might learn what her suit was and for that he was of
his nature exceeding clement, gave her his assurance and bidding all
who were with him go out forthright, abode alone [with her], he and the
Grand Vizier. Then he turned to her and said, "Tell me thy suit, and the
assurance [363] of God the Most High be upon thee." Quoth she, "O King
of the Age, I wish thy pardon also." And he said to her, "God pardon
thee!" [364] Then said she to him, "O our lord the Sultan, I have a
son, whose name is Alaeddin, and one day of the days he heard the
crier proclaim that none should open his shop nor show himself in the
thoroughfares of the city, [365] for that the Lady Bedrulbudour, the
daughter of our lord the Sultan, was going to the bath. When my son
heard this, he wished to see her; so he hid himself in a place,
whence he might see her well, and this was behind the door of the bath.
Accordingly, when she came up, he saw her and viewed her well, beyond
his wish; and from that time till now, O King of the Age, life hath
not been pleasant to him [366] and he will e'en have me seek her of Thy
Grace, [367] so thou mayst marry her with him, and I cannot do away this
conceit from his wit, for that the love of her hath gotten possession of
his vitals, so that he saith to me, 'Know, O mother mine, that, except
I attain my desire, assuredly I am a dead man.' Wherefore I crave Thy
Grace's clemency and hope that thou wilt pardon me and my son this
effrontery neither be wroth with us therefor."

When the King heard her story, he fell a-laughing, of his clemency,
[368] and asked her, "What is that thou hast with thee and what is that
bundle?" [369] Whereupon she, seeing that he was not angered at her
words, but laughed, opened the handkerchief forthright and proffered him
the dish of jewels. When the Sultan saw the jewels (and indeed, whenas
she raised the handkerchief from them, the Divan became as it were
all illumined with lamp-clusters and candlesticks), he was amazed and
confounded at their radiance and fell a-marvelling at their lustre and
bigness and beauty; and [370] he said, "Never saw I the like of these
jewels for beauty and bigness and perfection, nor methinketh is one of
them found in my treasuries." Then he turned to his Vizier and said to
him, "How sayst thou, O Vizier? Sawest thou ever in thy life the like of
these magnificent jewels?" "Never, O our lord the Sultan," replied the
Vizier, "nor, methinketh, is the least of those which be here found in
the treasuries of our lord the King." Quoth the Sultan, "Doth not he
who giveth me these jewels deserve to be bridegroom to my daughter
Bedrulbudour? Marry, by what I see, meseemeth none is worthier of her
than he."

When the Vizier heard the Sultan's words, his tongue was tied for
despite and he was overcome with exceeding chagrin, forasmuch as the
King had promised him that he would marry his daughter to his son;
so, after a little, he said to him, "O King of the age, Thy Grace
condescended to promise me [371] that the Lady Bedrulbudour should be my
son's; wherefore it behoveth thine exalted highness appoint a delay of
three months, [372] and God willing, my son's present shall be greater
than this." The King, for all he knew that this was a thing whereto the
Vizier might not avail, no, nor the greatest King, [373] nevertheless
exercised his clemency [374] and granted him the delay he sought; then,
turning to the old woman, he said to her, "Go to thy son and tell him
I give him [my] word that my daughter shall be in his name; [375] but
needs must I take order for her equipment; [376] wherefore it behoveth
him grant us a delay of three months."

Alaeddin's mother took the answer and thanked the Sultan and prayed for
him, then went forth and fared homeward in haste, flying of her joy,
till she came to the house and entered. Her son saw her laughing-faced
and foreboded good news; more by token that she returned forthright
and tarried not, as on each day past, neither brought back the dish.
Accordingly he asked her and said to her, "God willing, O my mother,
thou bringest me good news; the jewels and their value have wrought
their work and thou wilt have found acceptance with the Sultan; yea, he
will have shown thee favour and given ear unto thy suit." So she told
him all that had passed and how the Sultan had received her and had
marvelled, both he and his Vizier, at the size and beauty of the jewels,
and how he had promised her that [quoth she] "his daughter shall be in
thy name. But, O my son, ere he promised me, the Vizier whispered [377]
him somewhat, whereupon he appointed me for three months hence; and I
am fearful lest the Vizier be a man of evil disposition, [378] who will
change the King's mind."

When [379] Alaeddin heard his mother's words and how the Sultan had
appointed her for [380] three months [thence], his heart was lightened
and he rejoiced with an exceeding joy and said, "Since the Sultan hath
promised for [381] three months [hence], true, it [382] is long, but in
any case my joy is great." Then he thanked her for her kindness and the
pains she had taken [383] and said to her, "By Allah, O my mother, it
is as I were in a tomb and now thou hast raised me up therefrom; and
I praise God the Most High, for I am presently certified that there is
none richer or happier than I in the world." Then he waited till two
of the three months were past, when his mother went out one day of the
days, at sundown, to buy oil, and saw the markets closed and the city
all decorated and the folk setting candles and flowers in their windows
and saw troops, horse and foot, and mounted eunuchs drawn up in state,
with cressets and lustres burning. At this wonder took her; [384]he went
to an oilman's shop there open and buying oil of him, said to him, "[I
conjure thee] by thy life, O uncle, tell me what is toward to-day in
this city, that the folk are making this decoration and the markets
[are shut] and the houses all adorned and the troops drawn up in state?"
Quoth he, "O woman, methinketh thou art a stranger and art not of this
city." "Nay," answered she, "but I am of this city;" and he said to her,
"Thou art of this city and knowest not that this is the night of
the going in of the Grand Vizier's son to the Lady Bedrulbudour, the
Sultan's daughter? Nay, he is presently in the bath and yonder Amirs
and troops are drawn up awaiting him, against he come forth, so they may
carry him in procession to the palace of the Sultan's daughter."

When Alaeddin's mother heard this, she was troubled and perplexed in
her wit how she should do to acquaint her son with this woeful news, for
that the poor wretch was counting the hours till the three months should
be ended. So she returned home forthright and going in to Alaeddin, said
to him, "O my son, I have news to tell thee, but it irketh me for thy
chagrin therefrom." Quoth he, "Speak; what is the news?" And she said to
him, "The Sultan hath gone from his promise to thee in the matter of his
daughter, the Lady Bedrulbudour, for that this very night the Vizier's
son goeth in to her; and indeed methought at the time, [385] O my son,
the Vizier would change the Sultan's mind, even as I told thee that he
bespoke him privily before me." "How knewest thou this," asked Alaeddin,
"that the Vizier's son goeth in this night to the Lady Bedrulbudour?" So
she told him all she had seen of the decorations in the city, whenas she
went to buy the oil, and how the eunuchs and chiefs of the state were
drawn up awaiting the Vizier's son, against he should come forth of the
bath, for that this was the night of his going in. When Alaeddin heard
this, he fell into a fever of chagrin; [386] but presently he bethought
him of the lamp and rejoiced and said to his mother, "By thy life, O my
mother, methinketh the Vizier's son shall not rejoice in her, as
thou deemest. But now leave us be with this talk and go lay us the
evening-meal, so we may sup; then, when I shall have passed a while in
my chamber, all shall yet be well."

Accordingly, [387] after he had supped, he went into his chamber and
locking the door on himself, fetched the lamp and rubbed it; whereupon
the genie at once appeared to him and said, "Seek what thou wilt, for I
am thy slave and the slave of whoso hath in his hand the lamp, I and all
the slaves of the lamp." And Alaeddin said to him, "Harkye, I sought of
the Sultan to marry his daughter, and he appointed me for [388] three
months' time; however, he abode not by his promise, but gave her to the
Vizier's son, and the latter purposeth to go in [to her] this night.
Wherefore I do presently command thee, as thou art a loyal servant of
the lamp, that this night, whenas thou seest the bride and bridegroom
abed together, thou take them up in their bed [and bring them] hither.
This is what I seek of thee." "Hearkening and obedience," answered the
genie, "and if thou have a service [to require of me] other than this,
command me whatsoever thou seekest." And Alaeddin said to him, "I have
no present requirement save that whereof I have bespoken thee." So the
slave disappeared and Alaeddin returned to finish his supper [389] with
his mother.

When he deemed it time for the genie's coming, he arose and entered his
chamber; and after a little, the Marid appeared with the bridal pair in
their bed; whereat Alaeddin rejoiced with exceeding great joy and said
to the slave, "Bear this gallowsbird hence and couch him in the house of
easance." [390] The genie accordingly took up the bridegroom and couched
him in the draught-house; moreover, ere he left him, he blew on him a
blast wherewith he dried him up, and the Vizier's son abode in woeful
case. Then he returned to Alaeddin and said to him, "An thou need
otherwhat, tell me." And Alaeddin said to him, "Return in the morning,
so thou mayst take them [back] to their place." "Hearkening and
obedience," answered the genie and was gone; whereupon Alaeddin
arose,--and indeed he had scarce believed that the thing should succeed
with him,--and when he saw the Lady Bedrulbudour in his house, he
entreated her with respect, albeit he had long burned for love of her,
and said to her, "O princess of the fair, think not that I have brought
thee hither to soil shine honour. God forbid! Nay, it was that I might
not let others [391] enjoy thee, for that thy father the Sultan gave me
his word upon thee; so be thou in peace and assurance." As [392] for
the princess, when she found herself in that mean dark; house and heard
Alaeddin's words, fear and trembling get hold upon her and she was
confounded and could return him no answer. Then he arose and putting off
his clothes, placed a sword between himself and her and lay down by her
side in the bed, without treason; [393] it sufficed him to prevent [the
consummation of] her marriage with the Vizier's son. Nevertheless, the
Lady Bedrulbudour passed the sorriest of nights, never in her life had
she known a worse; whilst the Vizier's son lay in the draught-house and
dared not stir for fear of the genie.

When it was morning, the genie presented himself before Alaeddin,
without his rubbing the lamp, and said to him, "O my lord, an thou
wish aught, command me withal, so I may do it on my head and eyes." And
Alaeddin bade him go carry the bride and bridegroom to their own place.
The genie did his bidding in the twinkling of an eye and laying the
Vizier's son with the Lady Bedrulbudour, took them up and set them down
in their place in the palace, without their seeing any one; but they
were like to die of fright, when they felt themselves carried from
place to place. Hardly had the genie set them down and gone out when the
Sultan came to visit his daughter; and when the Vizier's son heard the
door open, he straightway sprang out of bed, knowing that none might
enter but the Sultan, and donned his clothes, [394] albeit this irked
him sore, for that he would fain have warmed himself a little, having
had no time [to do so] since he left the draught-house. The [395] Sultan
came in to his daughter and kissing her between the eyes, gave her
good-morrow and asked her of her bridegroom and if she was content with
him; but she returned him no answer and looked at him with a dejected
air. [396] He bespoke her several times, but she was silent and answered
him not a word; so he went out from her and going in to the Queen, told
her what had passed between himself and the Lady Bedrulbudour.

The Queen, so she might not leave the Sultan angry with the Lady
Bedrulbudour, said to him, "O King of the Age, this is the wont of
most brides, on their wedding-day, to be shamefast and show somewhat of
coyness. So be not vexed with her and after a day or two she will return
to herself and proceed to speak with the folk; but now, O King of the
Age, shame hindereth her from speaking. However, I purpose to go to her
and see her." Accordingly she arose and donning her clothes, repaired
to her daughter's apartment. Then, going up to her, she gave her
good-morrow and kissed her between the eyes; but the Lady Bedrulbudour
returned her no manner of answer and the Queen said in herself, "Needs
must some strange thing have befallen her, to trouble her thus." So
she asked her, saying, "O my daughter, what is the cause of this thy
behaviour? Tell me what aileth thee, that I come to thee and give thee
good-morrow and thou returnest me no answer."

The Lady Bedrulbudour raised her head and said to her, "Blame me not,
O my mother; indeed, it behoved me receive thee with all reverence and
worship, since thou honourest me by coming to me; but I beseech thee
hear the cause of this my case and see how this night I have passed
hath been for me the sorriest of nights. Hardly had we lain down, O
my mother, when one, whose fashion I know not, took up the bed and
transported us to a place dark, foul [397] and mean." Then she told her
mother the queen all that had betided her that night and how they had
taken her bridegroom, leaving her alone, and how after a little there
came another youth and lay down in the place of her bridegroom, putting
a sword between himself and her; "and in the morning" [quoth she] "he
who had brought us thither returned and taking us up, carried us back to
our place here: and hardly had he brought us hither and left us when my
father the Sultan entered and I had neither heart nor tongue to answer
him for stress of fright and trembling which possessed me. And belike my
father is vexed with me; wherefore I prithee, O my mother, tell him
the cause of this my case, so he be not wroth with me for my failure to
answer him neither blame me, but excuse me."

When [398] the queen heard the princess's story, she said to her, "O my
daughter, beware of [399] telling this tale before any, lest they [400]
say, 'Verily the Sultan's daughter hath lost her wits.' Marry, thou
diddest well in that thou acquaintedst not thy father with this;
and beware, yea [again I say,] beware, O my daughter, of telling him
thereof." "O my mother," rejoined the Lady Bedrulbudour, "indeed, I
bespoke thee in sober earnest and have not lost my wits; nay, this
is what happened to me, and an thou believe it not from me, ask my
bridegroom." Quoth the queen, "Rise, O my daughter, and put away these
illusions from thy thought; nay, don thy clothes and see the rejoicing
that is toward in the town on thine account and the festivities that
they celebrate in the kingdom for thy sake and hear the drums and the
singing and look upon the decorations, all in honour of thy nuptials, O
my daughter." Accordingly, she summoned the tirewomen, who dressed the
Lady Bedrulbudour and busked her; whilst the Queen went in to the Sultan
and told him that there had that night betided the princess a dream
and illusions, saying, "BIame her not for her failure to answer thee."
Moreover, she sent for the Vizier's son privily and questioned him of
the affair, whether the Lady Bedrulbudour's speech was true or not; but
he, of his fear to lose his bride, lest she should go from his hand,
said to her, "O my lady, I know nothing of that which thou sayest;"
wherefore the queen was certified that there had betided her daughter
illusions and a dream.

The wedding rejoicings continued all that day, with dancing-women and
singing-women, and all the instruments of mirth and minstrelsy were
smitten, whilst the queen and the Vizier and his son were exceeding
assiduous in keeping up the festivities, so the Lady Bedrulbudour should
rejoice and her chagrin be dispelled; nay, they left nought that day
of that which exciteth unto liesse but they did it before her, so she
should leave what was in her mind and be cheered. But all this had no
effect on her and she was silent and thoughtful and confounded at that
which had befallen her that night. True, the Vizier's son had fared
worse than she, for that he was couched in the draught-house; but he
belied [401] the matter and put away that tribulation from his thought,
of his fear lest he should lose his bride and his rank, [402] more by
token that all the folk envied him his lot, for the much increase of
honour it brought him, as also for the exceeding beauty and loveliness
of the Lady Bedrulbudour.

As for Alaeddin, he went out that day and saw the rejoicings toward in
the city and the palace and fell a-laughing, especially when he heard
the folk speak of the honour which had betided the Vizier's son and
the greatness of his good luck, in that he was become the Sultan's
son-in-law, and the exceeding pomp used in his marriage and bridal
festivities; and he said in himself, "Ye know not, good simple folk that
ye are, [403] what befell him last night, that ye envy him." Then, when
the night came in and it was the season of sleep, Alaeddin arose and
entering his chamber, rubbed the lamp, whereupon the genie appeared
to him forthright and [404] he bade him bring the princess and her
bridegroom, as on the past night, ere the Vizier's son should take her
maidenhead. The genie delayed not, but was absent a little while; and
when it was the appointed time, he returned with the bed and therein the
Lady Bedrulbudour and the Vizier's son. With the latter he did as he
had done the past night, to wit, he took him and couched him in the
draught-house, where he deft him parched for excess of fright and
dismay; whilst Alaeddin arose and placing the sword between himself and
the Lady Bedrulbudour, lay down and slept till the morning, when the
genie appeared and restored the twain to their place, leaving Alaeddin
full of joy at [the discomfiture of] the Vizier's son.

When the Sultan arose in the morning, he bethought himself to visit his
daughter Bedrulbudour and see an she should do with him as she had done
on the past day; so, as soon as he awoke from his sleep, he rose and
donning his clothes, went to his daughter's chamber and opened the door.
Whereupon the Vizier's son arose forthright and coming down from the
bed, fell to donning his clothes, with ribs cracking for cold; for
that, when the Sultan entered, it was no great while since the genie
had brought them back. The Sultan went up to his daughter, the Lady
Bedrulbudour, as she lay abed, and raising the curtain, gave her good
morning and kissed her between the eyes and asked her how she did. She
frowned and returned him no answer, but looked at him sullenly, as she
were in sorry case. He was wroth with her, for that she made him no
answer, and thought that something had betided her; so he drew the sword
and said to her, "What hath befallen thee? Either thou shalt tell me
what aileth thee or I will do away thy life this very moment. Is this
the respect that is due to my rank and the honour in which thou holdest
me, that I bespeak thee and thou answerest me not a word?"

When the Lady Bedrulbudour knew that her father was angry and saw the
naked sword in his hand, she was like to swoon for fear; [405] so she
raised her head and said to him, "Dear [406] my father, be not wroth
with me, neither be thou hasty in thine anger, for that I am excusable
in that which thou hast seen from me. [407] Do but hearken what hath
betided me and I am well assured that, whenas thou hearest my story of
that which hath happened to me these two nights past, thou wilt excuse
me and Thy Grace will be moved to compassion upon me, as I know from thy
love for me." [408] Then she acquainted him with all that had befallen
her and said to him, "O my father, an thou believe me not, ask my
bridegroom and he will resolve Thy Grace of everything, albeit I know
not what they did with him, when they took him from my side, nor where
they set him." When [409] the Sultan heard his daughter's story, he
was sore concerned and his eyes brimmed with tears; then, sheathing
the sword and coming up to her, he kissed her and said to her, "O my
daughter, why didst thou not tell me yesterday, so I might have warded
off from thee the torment and affright which have befallen thee this
night? But no matter; arise and put away from thee this thought, and
to-night I will set over thee those who shall guard thee, so there shall
not again befall thee that which befell yesternight." Then he returned
to his pavilion and sent at once for the Vizier, who came and stood
before him, awaiting his commands; and the Sultan said to him, "O
Vizier, how deemest thou of this affair? Most like thy son hath told
thee what happened to him and to my daughter." "O King of the Age,"
answered the Vizier, "I have not seen my son or yesterday or to-day."
Whereupon the Sultan acquainted him with all that his daughter the Lady
Bedrulbudour had told him and said to him, "It is now my will that thou
enquire of thy son the truth of the case, for it may be my daughter
knoweth not for fright what happened to her, though methinketh her tale
is all true." So the Vizier arose and sending for his son, asked him of
all that the Sultan had told him, if it were true or not. Whereupon,
"O my father the Vizier," replied the youth, "[God] preserve the Lady
Bedrulbudour from leasing! [410] Indeed, all she saith is true and these
two nights past have been for us the sorriest of nights, instead of
being nights of pleasance and delight. Marry, that which befell me was
yet worse, for that, instead of sleeping with my bride in bed, I lay
in the draught-house, a place dark and frightful, noisome of smell and
accursed, and my ribs were straitened [411] with cold." Brief, he told
the Vizier all that had befallen him and ultimately said to him; "Dear
[412] my father, I beseech thee speak with the Sultan that he release me
from this marriage. True, it is great honour for me to be the Sultan's
son-in-law, more by token that the love of the Lady Bedrulbudour hath
gotten possession of my vitals, but I cannot avail to endure one more
night like the two that are past."

When [413] the Vizier heard his son's words, he grieved and was
exceeding chagrined, for that he had thought to greaten his son and
advance him by making him the King's son-in-law; so he bethought himself
and was perplexed anent the matter and what was to do therein; [414] and
indeed it irked him sore that the marriage should be dissolved, for that
he had long besought [415] the Ten [416] that he might compass the like
of that affair; [417] so he said to his son, "Have patience, O my son,
so we may see [how it will be] to-night, and we will set over you guards
to guard you; but do not thou let slip this great honour, for that
it hath fallen to none other than thyself." Therewith he left him and
returning to the Sultan, told him that the Lady Bedrulbudour's story was
true; whereupon quoth the Sultan, "Since the case is thus, we need
no wedding-festivities." [418] And he bade forthright break off the
rejoicings and the marriage was dissolved. The folk and the people of
the city marvelled at this strange thing, especially when they saw the
Vizier and his son go forth the palace in a pitiable plight for stress
of chagrin and despite, and they fell to asking, "What hath happened
and why is the marriage avoided and the rejoicings broken off?" But none
knew what was to do save Alaeddin, the suitor, [419] who laughed in his
sleeve. So the marriage was annulled; but the Sultan had forgotten his
promise to Alaeddin's mother and never again bethought him thereof,
neither he nor the Vizier; nor knew they whence came that which had
happened.

Alaeddin waited till the three months had elapsed, after which the
Sultan had promised that he would marry him to his daughter, the Lady
Bedrulbudour, then despatched his mother to the Sultan to require him of
the performance of his promise. So she repaired to the palace and
when the Sultan came to the Divan and saw her standing before him, he
remembered his promise to her, that after three months he would marry
his daughter to her son, and turning to the Vizier, said to him, "O
Vizier, yonder is the woman who presented us with the jewels and we gave
her our word that after three months [we would marry our daughter to her
son]. Bring her before me forthright." So the Vizier went and brought
Alaeddin's mother before the Sultan; and when she came into the
presence, she made her obeisance to him and prayed God to vouchsafe him
glory and endurance of prosperity. The Sultan asked her if she had a
need, and she said to him, "O King of the Age, the three months are
ended, after which thou didst promise me thou wouldst marry my son
Alaeddin to thy daughter the Lady Bedrulbudour." The Sultan was
perplexed at this her claim, more by token that he saw her in poor case,
as she were the meanest of the folk; but the present which she had made
him was exceeding magnificent [and indeed] beyond price; [420] so he
turned to the Vizier and said to him, "How deemest thou? What shall we
do? [421] It is true I gave her my word, but meseemeth they are poor
folk and not of the chiefs of the people."

The [422] Vizier, who was like to die of envy and chagrin for that which
had befallen his son, said in himself, "How shall one like this marry
the Sultan's daughter and my son lose this honour?" So he said to the
Sultan, [423] "O my lord, it is an easy matter to rid ourselves of [424]
this vagabond, [425] for that it would not beseem Thy Grace to give thy
daughter to a man like this, of whom it is not known what he is." Quoth
the Sultan, "On what wise shall we rid ourselves of this man, seeing
I have given him my word and a King's word is his bond?" "O my lord,"
answered the Vizier, "my counsel is that thou require of him forty
dishes of pure virgin gold, full of jewels, such as she [426] brought
thee the other day, [427] and forty slave-girls to bear the dishes and
forty black slaves." "By Allah, O Vizier," rejoined the Sultan, "'thou
speakest rightly; for that this is a thing to which he may not avail
and so we shall be rid of him by [fair] means." [428] So he said to
Alaeddin's mother, "Go and tell thy son that I abide by the promise
which I made him, but an if he avail unto my daughter's dowry; to wit,
I require of him forty dishes of pure gold, which must all be full
of jewels [such as] thou broughtest me [erst], together with forty
slave-girls to carry them and forty male slaves to escort and attend
them. If, then; thy son avail unto this, I will marry him to my
daughter."

Alaeddin's mother returned home, shaking her head and saying, "Whence
shall my poor son get these dishes of jewels? Supposing, for the jewels
and the dishes, that he return to the treasure and gather the whole from
the trees,--and withal methinketh not it is possible to him; but say
that he fetch them,--whence [shall he get] the slaves and slave-girls?"
And she gave not over talking to herself till she reached the house,
where Alaeddin awaited her, and when she came in to him, she said to
him, "O my son, said I not to thee, 'Think not to attain to the Lady
Bedrulbudour'? Indeed, this is a thing that is not possible unto folk
like ourselves." Quoth he, "Tell me what is the news." And she said to
him, "O my son, the Sultan received me with all courtesy, according to
his wont, and meseemeth he meant fairly by us, but [for] thine accursed
enemy the Vizier; for that, after I had bespoken the Sultan in thy name,
even as thou badest me, reminding him that the term for which he had
appointed us was past and saying to him, 'If Thy Grace would vouchsafe
to give commandment for the marriage of thy daughter the Lady
Bedrulbudour with my son Alaeddin,'--he turned to the Vizier and spoke
to him. The Vizier replied to him in a whisper and after that the Sultan
returned me an answer." Then she told him what the Sultan required of
him and added, "O my son, he would fain have present answer of thee; but
methinketh we have no answer to give him."

When [429] Alaeddin heard his mother's speech, he laughed and said, "O
my mother, thou sayest we have no answer to make him and deemest the
thing exceeding hard; but now be good enough to rise [430] and fetch us
somewhat to eat, and after we have dined, thou shalt (an it please the
Compassionate) see the answer. The Sultan like thyself, thinketh he hath
sought of me an extraordinary matter, so he may divert me from the Lady
Bedrulbudour; but the fact is that he seeketh a thing less than I had
looked for. But go now and buy us somewhat we may eat and leave me to
fetch thee the answer." Accordingly, she arose and went out to buy her
need from the market, so she might make ready the morning-meal; whilst
Alaeddin entered his chamber and taking the lamp, rubbed it. The genie
immediately appeared to him and said, "Seek what thou wilt, O my lord;"
whereupon quoth Alaeddin, "I seek the Sultan's daughter in marriage and
he requireth of me forty dishes of pure gold, each ten pounds in weight
and full of the jewels which be in the garden of the treasure, the
forty dishes to be borne by forty slave girls and each slave-girl to be
accompanied by a male slave; wherefore I will have thee bring me this,
all of it." "Hearkening and obedience, O my lord," replied the genie
and disappearing, was absent awhile, then returned with the forty
slave-girls, each attended by a male slave and bearing on her head a
dish of pure gold, full of precious jewels. So he brought them before
Alaeddin and said to him, "Here is that which thou soughtest. Tell me
an thou need thing or service other than this." Quoth Alaeddin, "I need
nothing [more]; if I need aught, I will summon thee and tell thee."

Accordingly, the genie vanished and after a little, Alaeddin's mother
returned and entering the house, saw the slaves and slave-girls; whereat
she marvelled and said, "All this is of the Lamp; God continue it unto
my son!" Then, before she put off her veil, Alaeddin said to her, "O my
mother, this is thy time, ere the Sultan enter his palace [and withdraw]
to his harem. Take him what he seeketh, and that forthright, so he may
know that I can avail unto that which he requireth, ay, and more, and
that he was deluded by the Vizier; albeit he thought to baffle me, he
and his Vizier." Then he arose and opening the house-door, let out the
damsels and the slaves, pair by pair, each damsel with a slave by her
side, so that they filled the street. His mother forewent them and the
people of the quarter, when they saw that rare and magnificent
sight, stood looking and marvelling and gazing upon the faces of the
slave-girls and their grace and goodliness [and their apparel], for that
they were clad in clothes all inwoven with gold and studded with jewels;
nay, the least one's clothes of them were worth thousands. Moreover they
looked at the dishes [431] and saw flashing therefrom a radiance that
outshone the light of the sun, albeit each dish was covered with a
piece of brocade, gold-inwrought and studded eke with precious jewels.
Alaeddin's [432] mother fared on and the damsels and slaves followed
after her, in all fair ordinance and disposition, whilst the folk stood
to gaze on the beauty of the slave-girls and extolled the perfection of
the Almighty Creator, till she reached the palace and entered it with
them.

When the eunuchs and chamberlains and captains of the guard saw them,
wonder took them and they were breathless for amaze at this sight, the
like whereof they had never in their lives seen, and especially at the
slave girls, each one of whom would ravish the wit of an anchorite.
Withal, the chamberlains and captains of the Sultan's guards were all
of them sons of grandees and Amirs; and they marvelled yet more at the
damsels' costly raiment and the dishes which they bore on their heads
and on which they might not open their eyes, [433] for the excess of
their flashing and radiance. Then the guards [434] entered and told the
Sultan, who bade bring them before him forthright into the Divan.
So Alaeddin's mother entered with them and when they came before the
Sultan, they all did obeisance to him with the utmost courtliness and
gravity and invoked on him glory and prosperity; then, raising the
dishes from their heads, they set them down before him and stood with
their hands clasped behind them, after they had removed the covers.

The Sultan wondered with an exceeding wonderment and was confounded
at the beauty of the girls and their loveliness, which overpassed
description; his wit was bewildered, when he saw the golden dishes, full
of jewels that dazzled the sight, and he was amazed at this marvel, so
that he became as one dumb, unable to speak aught, of the excess of his
wonderment; nay, his wit was the more perplexed, forasmuch as this
had all been accomplished in an hour's time. Then he bade carry the
slave-girls and their burdens to the pavilion of the Lady Bedrulbudour;
so the damsels took up the dishes and entered; whereupon Alaeddin's
mother came forward and said to the Sultan, "O my lord, this is no great
matter for the Lady Bedrulbudour's exalted rank; nay, she deserveth
manifold this." So the Sultan turned to the Vizier and said to him, "How
sayst thou, O Vizier? He that can in so short a time avail unto riches
like these, is he not worthy to be the Sultan's son-in-law and to have
his daughter to bride?" Now the Vizier marvelled at the greatness of
these riches yet more than the Sultan, but envy was killing him and
waxed on him more and more, when he saw that the Sultan was content with
the bride-gift [435] and the dowry; withal he could not gainstand the
[manifest] truth and say to the Sultan, "He is not worthy;" so he cast
about to work upon him by practice, that he might hinder him from giving
his daughter the Lady Bedrulbudour to Alaeddin, and accordingly said to
him, [436] "O my lord, all the treasures of the world were not worth
a paring of thy daughter Bedrulbudour's nails; indeed, Thy Highness
overrateth this upon her." [437]

When [438] the Sultan heard the Vizier's words, he knew that this his
speech arose from the excess of his envy; so he turned to Alaeddin's
mother and said to her, "O woman, go to thy son and tell him that I
accept of him the marriage-gift and abide by my promise to him and that
my daughter is his bride and he my son-in-law; so bid him come hither,
that I may make acquaintance with him. There shall betide him from me
nought but all honour and consideration and this night shall be the
beginning of the bridal festivities. But, as I said to thee, let him
come hither to me without delay." So she returned home swiftlier than
the wind, [439] of her haste to bring her son the good news; and she
was like to fly for joy at the thought that her son was to become the
Sultan's son-in-law. As soon as she had taken her leave, the Sultan
bade break up the Divan and entering the Lady Bedrulbudour's pavilion,
commanded to bring the damsels and the dishes before his daughter and
himself, so she should see them. So they brought them and when the Lady
Bedrulbudour saw the jewels, she was amazed and said, "Methinketh there
is not one of these jewels found in the treasuries of the world." Then
she looked at the damsels and marvelled at their beauty and grace and
knew that this was all from her new bridegroom and that he had proffered
it to her service. So she rejoiced, albeit she had been sad and sorry
for her [whilom] bridegroom the Vizier's son,--she rejoiced, [I say],
with an exceeding joy, when she saw the jewels and the beauty of the
damsels, and was cheered; whilst her father rejoiced exceedingly in her
joy, in that he saw her put off chagrin and dejection. Then he said
to her, "O my daughter Bedrulbudour, doth this please thee? Indeed,
methinketh this thy bridegroom is goodlier [440] than the Vizier's son,
and God willing, O my daughter, thou shalt rejoice with him abundantly."
[441]

So much for the Sultan and as for Alaeddin, when his mother came to the
house and entered and he saw her laughing of the excess of her joy,
he foreboded good news and said, "To God Everlasting [442] be praise!
Accomplished is that which I sought." And she said to him, "Glad
tidings, O my son! Let thy heart rejoice and thine eye be solaced in the
attainment of thy desire, for that the Sultan accepteth thine offering,
to wit, the bride gift and the dowry of the Lady Bedrulbudour, and she
is thy bride and this, O my son, is the night of your [443] bridal and
thy going in to the Lady Bedrulbudour. Nay, the Sultan, that he might
certify me of his word, proclaimed thee his son-in-law before the folk
and declared that this should be the wedding-night; but he said to me,
'Let thy son come hither to me, so I may make acquaintance with him, and
I will receive him with all honour and worship.' And now, O my son, my
office [444] is ended, whatsoever remaineth is a matter for thee." [445]

Alaeddin kissed his mother's hand and thanked her amain for her
kindness; [446] then he arose and entering his chamber, took the lamp
and rubbed it; whereupon the genie presented himself and said to him,
"Here am I; seek what thou wilt." Quoth Alaeddin, "My will is that thou
take me to a bath, whose like is not in the world, and fetch me a suit
of royal raiment and exceeding costly, such as no king can boast."
"Hearkening and obedience," replied the Marid and taking him up, brought
him intro a bath, never saw King nor Kisra [447] its like, for it was
of alabaster and agate and full of marvellous limnings that ravished the
sight, and therein was a saloon all embossed with precious jewels. None
was there; but, when Alaeddin entered, there came in to him one of the
Jinn in human semblance and washed him and bathed him to the utmost of
the wish: after [448] which he went forth the bath to the outer saloon,
where he found his clothes taken away and in their stead a suit of the
richest royal apparel. Then sherbets were brought him and coffee with
ambergris and he drank and arose; whereupon there came to him a troop
of slaves and clad him in those [449] sumptuous clothes [450] and he
dressed and perfumed himself with essences and sweet-scented smoke.
[451] Now thou knowest [452] that Alaeddin was the son of a poor man,
a tailor: yet now none had thought it, [453] but had said, "This is the
chiefest of the sons of the kings," extolled be the perfection of Him
who changeth and is not changed!

Then the slave of the lamp came to him and taking him up, set him down
in his house and said to him, "O my lord, dost thou need aught?" "Yes,"
answered Alaeddin; "I will have thee bring me eight-and-forty mamelukes,
[454] four-and-twenty to walk before me and four-and-twenty to walk
behind me, with their horses and clothes and arms, and let all that is
upon them and their horses be of stuffs costly and precious exceedingly,
such as are not found in kings' treasuries. Then bring me a stallion
fit for the riding of the Chosroes and be his trappings all of gold,
embossed with noble jewels; and bring me eight-and-forty thousand
diners, in each mameluke's hand a thousand, for that I purpose presently
to visit the Sultan; wherefore delay thou not on me, since I cannot go
thither without all that whereof I have bespoken thee. Bring me also
twelve slave-girls, who must be unique in loveliness and clad in the
richest of raiment, so they may attend my mother to the Sultan's palace,
and let each slave-girl have with her a suit of apparel fit for the
wearing of kings' wives." [455]

"Hearkening and obedience," replied the genie and disappearing, brought
him in the twinkling of an eye all that he had commanded him withal,
whilst in his hand he held a stallion, whose like is not among the
horses of the Arabs of the Arabs, [456] with housings of the richest
stuffs brocaded with gold; whereupon Alaeddin called his mother
forthright and delivered her the twelve slave-girls and gave her the
[twelve] suits, [457] so she might dress he

Showing first 200,000 characters. Full text: gutenberg.org/ebooks/5100