The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night — Volume 01 (of 10)
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Title: The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night — Volume 01 (of 10)
Translator: Sir Richard Francis Burton
Release date: February 20, 2016 [eBook #51252]
Most recently updated: May 21, 2025
Language: English
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[Illustration]
[Illustration]
"TO THE PURE ALL THINGS ARE PURE."
(Puris omnia para)
—_Arab Proverb._
"Niuna corrotta mente intese mai sanamente parole."
—"_Decameron_"—_conclusion_.
"Erubuit, posuitque meum Lucretia librum
Sed coram Bruto. Brute! recede, leget."
—_Martial._
"Mieulx est de ris que de larmes escripre,
Pour ce que rire est le propre des hommes."
—RABELAIS.
"The pleasure we derive from perusing the Thousand-and-One Stories makes
us regret that we possess only a comparatively small part of these truly
enchanting fictions."
—CRICHTON'S "_History of Arabia_."
[Illustration]
_A PLAIN AND LITERAL TRANSLATION OF THE ARABIAN NIGHTS ENTERTAINMENTS.
NOW ENTITULED_
_THE BOOK OF THE_
=Thousand Nights and a Night=
_WITH INTRODUCTION EXPLANATORY NOTES ON THE
MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF MOSLEM MEN AND A
TERMINAL ESSAY UPON THE HISTORY OF THE
NIGHTS_
VOLUME I.
BY
RICHARD F. BURTON
[Illustration]
PRINTED BY THE BURTON CLUB FOR PRIVATE
SUBSCRIBERS ONLY
Shammar Edition
Limited to one thousand numbered sets, of which this is
Number _547_
PRINTED IN U. S. A.
=Inscribed to the Memory=
OF
MY LAMENTED FRIEND
=John Frederick Steinhaeuser,=
(CIVIL SURGEON, ADEN)
WHO
A QUARTER OF A CENTURY AGO
ASSISTED ME IN THIS TRANSLATION.
THE TRANSLATOR'S FOREWORD.
This work, laborious as it may appear, has been to me a labour of love,
an unfailing source of solace and satisfaction. During my long years of
official banishment to the luxuriant and deadly deserts of Western
Africa, and to the dull and dreary half-clearings of South America, it
proved itself a charm, a talisman against ennui and despondency.
Impossible even to open the pages without a vision starting into view;
without drawing a picture from the pinacothek of the brain; without
reviving a host of memories and reminiscences which are not the common
property of travellers, however widely they may have travelled. From my
dull and commonplace and "respectable" surroundings, the Jinn bore me at
once to the land of my predilection, Arabia, a region so familiar to my
mind that even at first sight, it seemed a reminiscence of some by-gone
metempsychic life in the distant Past. Again I stood under the
diaphanous skies, in air glorious as æther, whose every breath raises
men's spirits like sparkling wine. Once more I saw the evening star
hanging like a solitaire from the pure front of the western firmament;
and the after-glow transfiguring and transforming, as by magic, the
homely and rugged features of the scene into a fairy-land lit with a
light which never shines on other soils or seas. Then would appear the
woollen tents, low and black, of the true Badawin, mere dots in the
boundless waste of lion-tawny clays and gazelle-brown gravels, and the
camp-fire dotting like a glow-worm the village centre. Presently,
sweetened by distance, would be heard the wild weird song of lads and
lasses, driving or rather pelting, through the gloaming their sheep and
goats; and the measured chant of the spearsmen gravely stalking behind
their charge, the camels; mingled with the bleating of the flocks and
the bellowing of the humpy herds; while the rere-mouse flitted overhead
with his tiny shriek, and the rave of the jackal resounded through
deepening glooms, and—most musical of music—the palm-trees answered the
whispers of the night-breeze with the softest tones of falling water.
And then a shift of scene. The Shaykhs and "white-beards" of the tribe
gravely take their places, sitting with outspread skirts like hillocks
on the plain, as the Arabs say, around the camp-fire, whilst I reward
their hospitality and secure its continuance by reading or reciting a
few pages of their favourite tales. The women and children stand
motionless as silhouettes outside the ring; and all are breathless with
attention; they seem to drink in the words with eyes and mouths as well
as with ears. The most fantastic flights of fancy, the wildest
improbabilities, the most impossible of impossibilities, appear to them
utterly natural, mere matters of every-day occurrence. They enter
thoroughly into each phase of feeling touched upon by the author: they
take a personal pride in the chivalrous nature and knightly prowess of
Taj al-Mulúk; they are touched with tenderness by the self-sacrificing
love of Azízah; their mouths water as they hear of heaps of untold gold
given away in largesse like clay; they chuckle with delight every time a
Kázi or a Fakír—a judge or a reverend—is scurvily entreated by some
Pantagruelist of the Wilderness; and, despite their normal solemnity and
impassibility, all roar with laughter, sometimes rolling upon the ground
till the reader's gravity is sorely tried, at the tales of the garrulous
Barber and of Ali and the Kurdish Sharper. To this magnetising mood the
sole exception is when a Badawi of superior accomplishments, who
sometimes says his prayers, ejaculates a startling "Astaghfaru'llah"—I
pray Allah's pardon!—for listening, not to Carlyle's "downright lies,"
but to light mention of the sex whose name is never heard amongst the
nobility of the Desert.
Nor was it only in Arabia that the immortal Nights did me such notable
service: I found the wildlings of Somali-land equally amenable to its
discipline; no one was deaf to the charm and the two women-cooks of my
caravan, on its way to Harar, were incontinently dubbed by my men
"Shahrazad" and "Dinazad."
It may be permitted me also to note that this translation is a natural
outcome of my Pilgrimage to Al-Medinah and Meccah. Arriving at Aden in
the (so-called) winter of 1852, I put up with my old and dear friend,
Steinhaeuser, to whose memory this volume is inscribed; and, when
talking over Arabia and the Arabs, we at once came to the same
conclusion that, while the name of this wondrous treasury of Moslem
folk-lore is familiar to almost every English child, no general reader
is aware of the valuables it contains, nor indeed will the door open to
any but Arabists. Before parting we agreed to "collaborate" and produce
a full, complete, unvarnished, uncastrated copy of the great original,
my friend taking the prose and I the metrical part; and we corresponded
upon the subject for years. But whilst I was in the Brazil, Steinhaeuser
died suddenly of apoplexy at Berne in Switzerland and, after the fashion
of Anglo-India, his valuable MSS. left at Aden were dispersed, and very
little of his labours came into my hands.
Thus I was left alone to my work, which progressed fitfully amid a host
of obstructions. At length, in the spring of 1879, the tedious process
of copying began and the book commenced to take finished form. But,
during the winter of 1881-82, I saw in the literary journals a notice of
a new version by Mr. John Payne, well known to scholars for his prowess
in English verse, especially for his translation of "The Poems of Master
Francis Villon, of Paris." Being then engaged on an expedition to the
Gold Coast (for gold), which seemed likely to cover some months, I wrote
to the "Athenæum" (Nov. 13, 1881) and to Mr. Payne, who was wholly
unconscious that we were engaged on the same work, and freely offered
him precedence and possession of the field till no longer wanted. He
accepted my offer as frankly, and his priority entailed another delay
lasting till the spring of 1885. These details will partly account for
the lateness of my appearing, but there is yet another cause.
Professional ambition suggested that literary labours, unpopular with
the vulgar and the half-educated, are not likely to help a man up the
ladder of promotion. But common sense presently suggested to me that,
professionally speaking, I was not a success; and, at the same time,
that I had no cause to be ashamed of my failure. In our day, when we
live under a despotism of the lower "middle-class" Philister who can
pardon anything but superiority, the prizes of competitive services are
monopolised by certain "pets" of the _Médiocratie_, and prime favourites
of that jealous and potent majority—the Mediocrities who know "no
nonsense about merit." It is hard for an outsider to realise how perfect
is the monopoly of commonplace, and to comprehend how fatal a
stumbling-stone that man sets in the way of his own advancement who
dares to think for himself, or who knows more or who does more than the
mob of gentlemen-employés who know very little and who do even less.
Yet, however behindhand I may be, there is still ample room and verge
for an English version of the "Arabian Nights' Entertainments."
Our century of translations, popular and vernacular, from (Professor
Antoine) Galland's delightful abbreviation and adaptation (A.D. 1704),
in no wise represent the eastern original. The best and latest, the Rev.
Mr. Foster's, which is diffuse and verbose, and Mr. G. Moir Bussey's,
which is a re-correction, abound in gallicisms of style and idiom; and
one and all degrade a chef-d'œuvre of the highest anthropological and
ethnographical interest and importance to a mere fairy-book, a nice
present for little boys.
After nearly a century had elapsed, Dr. Jonathan Scott (LL.D. H.E.I.C.'s
S., Persian Secretary to the G. G. Bengal; Oriental Professor, etc.,
etc.), printed his "Tales, Anecdotes, and Letters, translated from the
Arabic and Persian," (Cadell and Davies, London, A.D. 1800); and
followed in 1811 with an edition of "The Arabian Nights' Entertainments"
from the MS. of Edward Wortley Montague (in 6 vols., small 8vo, London:
Longmans, etc.). This work he (and he only) describes as "Carefully
revised and occasionally corrected from the Arabic." The reading public
did not wholly reject it, sundry texts were founded upon the Scott
version and it has been imperfectly reprinted (4 vols., 8vo, Nimmo and
Bain, London, 1883). But most men, little recking what a small portion
of the original they were reading, satisfied themselves with the
Anglo-French epitome and metaphrase. At length in 1838, Mr. Henry
Torrens, B.A., Irishman, lawyer ("of the Inner Temple") and Bengal
Civilian, took a step in the right direction; and began to translate,
"The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night," (1 vol., 8vo, Calcutta:
W. Thacker and Co.) from the Arabic of the Ægyptian (!) MS. edited by
Mr. (afterwards Sir) William H. Macnaghten. The attempt, or rather the
intention, was highly creditable; the copy was carefully moulded upon
the model and offered the best example of the _verbatim et literatim_
style. But the plucky author knew little of Arabic, and least of what is
most wanted, the dialect of Egypt and Syria. His prose is so
conscientious as to offer up spirit at the shrine of letter; and his
verse, always whimsical, has at times a manner of Hibernian whoop which
is comical when it should be pathetic. Lastly he printed only one volume
of a series which completed would have contained nine or ten.
That amiable and devoted Arabist, the late Edward William Lane does not
score a success in his "New Translation of the Tales of a Thousand and
One Nights" (London: Charles Knight and Co., MDCCCXXXIX.) of which there
have been four English editions, besides American, two edited by E. S.
Poole. He chose the abbreviating Bulak Edition; and, of its two hundred
tales, he has omitted about half and by far the more characteristic
half: the work was intended for "the drawing-room table;" and,
consequently, the workman was compelled to avoid the "objectionable" and
aught "approaching to licentiousness." He converts the Arabian Nights
into the Arabian Chapters, arbitrarily changing the division and, worse
still, he converts some chapters into notes. He renders poetry by prose
and apologises for not omitting it altogether: he neglects assonance and
he is at once too Oriental and not Oriental enough. He had small store
of Arabic at the time—Lane of the Nights is not Lane of the
Dictionary—and his pages are disfigured by many childish mistakes. Worst
of all, the three handsome volumes are rendered unreadable as Sale's
Koran by their anglicised Latin, their sesquipedalian un-English words,
and the stiff and stilted style of half a century ago when our prose
was, perhaps, the worst in Europe. Their cargo of Moslem learning was
most valuable to the student, but utterly out of place for readers of
"The Nights;" re-published, as these notes have been separately (London,
Chatto, 1883), they are an ethnological text-book.
Mr. John Payne has printed, for the Villon Society and for private
circulation only, the first and sole complete translation of the great
compendium, "comprising about four times as much matter as that of
Galland, and three times as much as that of any other translator;" and
I cannot but feel proud that he has honoured me with the dedication of
"The Book of The Thousand Nights and One Night." His version is most
readable: his English, with a sub-flavour of the Mabinogionic
archaicism, is admirable; and his style gives life and light to the
nine volumes whose matter is frequently heavy enough. He succeeds
admirably in the most difficult passages and he often hits upon choice
and special terms and the exact vernacular equivalent of the foreign
word, so happily and so picturesquely that all future translators must
perforce use the same expression under pain of falling far short. But
the learned and versatile author bound himself to issue only five
hundred copies, and "not to reproduce the work in its complete and
uncastrated form." Consequently his excellent version is caviaire to
the general—practically unprocurable.
And here I hasten to confess that ample use has been made of the three
versions above noted, the whole being blended by a _callida junctura_
into a homogeneous mass. But in the presence of so many predecessors a
writer is bound to show some _raison d'être_ for making a fresh attempt
and this I proceed to do with due reserve.
Briefly, the object of this version is to show what "The Thousand Nights
and a Night" really is. Not, however, for reasons to be more fully
stated in the terminal Essay, by straining _verbum reddere verbo_, but
by writing as the Arab would have written in English. On this point I am
all with Saint Jerome (Pref. in Jobum) "Vel verbum e verbo, vel sensum e
sensu, vel ex utroque commixtum, et medie temperatum genus
translationis." My work claims to be a faithful copy of the great
Eastern Saga-book, by preserving intact, not only the spirit, but even
the _mécanique_, the manner and the matter. Hence, however prosy and
long-drawn out be the formula, it retains the scheme of the Nights
because they are a prime feature in the original. The Ráwí or reciter,
to whose wits the task of supplying details is left, well knows their
value: the openings carefully repeat the names of the _dramatis personæ_
and thus fix them in the hearer's memory. Without the Nights no Arabian
Nights! Moreover it is necessary to retain the whole apparatus: nothing
more ill-advised than Dr. Jonathan Scott's strange device of garnishing
The Nights with fancy head-pieces and tail-pieces or the splitting-up of
Galland's narrative by merely prefixing "Nuit," etc., ending moreover,
with the ccxxxiv^{th} Night: yet this has been done, apparently with the
consent of the great Arabist Sylvestre de Sacy (Paris, Ernest Bourdin).
Moreover, holding that the translator's glory is to add something to his
native tongue, while avoiding the hideous hag-like nakedness of Torrens
and the bald literalism of Lane, I have carefully Englished the
picturesque turns and novel expressions of the original in all their
outlandishness; for instance, when the dust-cloud raised by a tramping
host is described as "walling the horizon." Hence peculiar attention has
been paid to the tropes and figures which the Arabic language often
packs into a single term; and I have never hesitated to coin a word when
wanted, such as "she snorted and snarked," fully to represent the
original. These, like many in Rabelais, are mere barbarisms unless
generally adopted; in which case they become civilised and common
currency.
Despite objections manifold and manifest, I have preserved the balance
of sentences and the prose rhyme and rhythm which Easterns look upon as
mere music. This "Saj'a," or cadence of the cooing dove, has in Arabic
its special duties. It adds a sparkle to description and a point to
proverb, epigram and dialogue; it corresponds with our "artful
alliteration" (which in places I have substituted for it) and,
generally, it defines the boundaries between the classical and the
popular styles which jostle each other in The Nights. If at times it
appear strained and forced, after the wont of rhymed prose, the scholar
will observe that, despite the immense copiousness of assonants and
consonants in Arabic, the strain is often put upon it intentionally,
like the _Rims cars_ of Dante and the Troubadours. This rhymed prose may
be "un-English" and unpleasant, even irritating to the British ear;
still I look upon it as a _sine quâ non_ for a complete reproduction of
the original. In the terminal Essay I shall revert to the subject.
On the other hand when treating the versicle portion, which may
represent a total of ten thousand lines, I have not always bound myself
by the metrical bonds of the Arabic, which are artificial in the
extreme, and which in English can be made bearable only by a _tour de
force_. I allude especially to the monorhyme, _Rim continuat_ or _tirade
monorime_, whose monotonous simplicity was preferred by the Troubadours
for threnodies. It may serve well for three or four couplets but, when
it extends, as in the Ghazal-canzon, to eighteen, and in the Kasidah,
elegy or ode, to more, it must either satisfy itself with banal
rhyme-words, when the assonants should as a rule be expressive and
emphatic; or, it must display an ingenuity, a smell of the oil, which
assuredly does not add to the reader's pleasure. It can perhaps be done
and it should be done; but for me the task has no attractions: I can
fence better in shoes than in sabots. Finally I print the couplets in
Arab form separating the hemistichs by asterisks.
And now to consider one matter of special importance in the book—its
_turpiloquium_. This stumbling-block is of two kinds, completely
distinct. One is the simple, naïve and child-like indecency which, from
Tangiers to Japan, occurs throughout general conversation of high and
low in the present day. It uses, like the holy books of the Hebrews,
expressions "plainly descriptive of natural situations;" and it treats
in an unconventionally free and naked manner of subjects and matters
which are usually, by common consent, left undescribed. As Sir William
Jones observed long ago, "that anything natural can be offensively
obscene never seems to have occurred to the Indians or to their
legislators; a singularity (?) pervading their writings and
conversation, but no proof of moral depravity." Another justly observes,
_Les peuples primitifs n'y entendent pas malice: ils appellent les
choses par leurs noms et ne trouvent pas condamnable ce qui est
naturel._ And they are prying as children. For instance the European
novelist marries off his hero and heroine and leaves them to consummate
marriage in privacy; even Tom Jones has the decency to bolt the door.
But the Eastern story-teller, especially this unknown "prose
Shakespeare," must usher you, with a flourish, into the bridal chamber
and narrate to you, with infinite gusto, everything he sees and hears.
Again we must remember that grossness and indecency, in fact _les
turpitudes_, are matters of time and place; what is offensive in England
is not so in Egypt; what scandalises us now would have been a tame joke
_tempore Elisæ_. Withal The Nights will not be found in this matter
coarser than many passages of Shakspeare, Sterne, and Swift, and their
uncleanness rarely attains the perfection of Alcofribas Nasier, "divin
maître et atroce cochon." The other element is absolute obscenity,
sometimes, but not always, tempered by wit, humour and drollery; here we
have an exaggeration of Petronius Arbiter, the handiwork of writers
whose ancestry, the most religious and the most debauched of mankind,
practised every abomination before the shrine of the Canopic Gods.
In accordance with my purpose of reproducing the Nights, not _virginibus
puerisque_, but in as perfect a picture as my powers permit, I have
carefully sought out the English equivalent of every Arabic word,
however low it may be or "shocking" to ears polite; preserving, on the
other hand, all possible delicacy where the indecency is not
intentional; and, as a friend advises me to state, not exaggerating the
vulgarities and the indecencies which, indeed, can hardly be
exaggerated. For the coarseness and crassness are but the shades of a
picture which would otherwise be all lights. The general tone of The
Nights is exceptionally high and pure. The devotional fervour often
rises to the boiling-point of fanaticism. The pathos is sweet, deep and
genuine; tender, simple and true, utterly unlike much of our modern
tinsel. Its life, strong, splendid and multitudinous, is everywhere
flavoured with that unaffected pessimism and constitutional melancholy
which strike deepest root under the brightest skies and which sigh in
the face of heaven:—
Vita quid est hominis? Viridis floriscula mortis;
Sole Oriente oriens, sole cadente cadens.
Poetical justice is administered by the literary Kází with exemplary
impartiality and severity; "denouncing evil doers and eulogising deeds
admirably achieved." The morale is sound and healthy; and at times we
descry, through the voluptuous and libertine picture, vistas of a
transcendental morality, the morality of Socrates in Plato. Subtle
corruption and covert licentiousness are utterly absent; we find more
real "vice" in many a short French roman, say La Dame aux Camelias, and
in not a few English novels of our day than in the thousands of pages of
the Arab. Here we have nothing of that most immodest modern modesty
which sees covert implication where nothing is implied, and "improper"
allusion, when propriety is not outraged; nor do we meet with the
Nineteenth Century refinement; innocence of the word not of the thought;
morality of the tongue not of the heart, and the sincere homage paid to
virtue in guise of perfect hypocrisy. It is, indeed, this unique
contrast of a quaint element, childish crudities and nursery indecencies
and "vain and amatorious" phrase jostling the finest and highest views
of life and character, shown in the kaleidoscopic shiftings of the
marvellous picture with many a "rich truth in a tale's pretence";
pointed by a rough dry humour which compares well with "wut;" the
alternations of strength and weakness, of pathos and bathos, of the
boldest poetry (the diction of Job) and the baldest prose (the Egyptian
of to-day); the contact of religion and morality with the orgies of
African Apuleius and Petronius Arbiter—at times taking away the reader's
breath—and, finally, the whole dominated everywhere by that marvellous
Oriental fancy, wherein the spiritual and the supernatural are as common
as the material and the natural; it is this contrast, I say, which forms
the chiefest charm of The Nights, which gives it the most striking
originality and which makes it a perfect expositor of the medieval
Moslem mind.
Explanatory notes did not enter into Mr. Payne's plan. They do with
mine: I can hardly imagine The Nights being read to any profit by men of
the West without commentary. My annotations avoid only one subject,
parallels of European folk-lore and fabliaux which, however interesting,
would overswell the bulk of a book whose speciality is anthropology. The
accidents of my life, it may be said without undue presumption, my long
dealings with Arabs and other Mahommedans, and my familiarity not only
with their idiom but with their turn of thought, and with that racial
individuality which baffles description, have given me certain
advantages over the average student, however deeply he may have studied.
These volumes, moreover, afford me a long-sought opportunity of noticing
practices and customs which interest all mankind and which "Society"
will not hear mentioned. Grote, the historian, and Thackeray, the
novelist, both lamented that the _bégueulerie_ of their countrymen
condemned them to keep silence where publicity was required; and that
they could not even claim the partial licence of a Fielding and a
Smollett. Hence a score of years ago I lent my best help to the late Dr.
James Hunt in founding the Anthropological Society, whose presidential
chair I first occupied (pp. 2-4 Anthropologia; London, Balliere, vol.
i., No. 1, 1873). My motive was to supply travellers with an organ which
would rescue their observations from the outer darkness of manuscript,
and print their curious information on social and sexual matters out of
place in the popular book intended for the Nipptisch and indeed better
kept from public view. But, hardly had we begun when "Respectability,"
that whited sepulchre full of all uncleanness, rose up against us.
"Propriety" cried us down with her brazen blatant voice, and the
weak-kneed brethren fell away. Yet the organ was much wanted and is
wanted still. All now known barbarous tribes in Inner Africa, America
and Australia, whose instincts have not been overlaid by reason, have a
ceremony which they call "making men." As soon as the boy shows proofs
of puberty, he and his coevals are taken in hand by the mediciner and
the Fetisheer; and, under priestly tuition, they spend months in the
"bush," enduring hardships and tortures which impress the memory till
they have mastered the "theorick and practick" of social and sexual
relations. Amongst the civilised this fruit of the knowledge-tree must
be bought at the price of the bitterest experience, and the consequences
of ignorance are peculiarly cruel. Here, then, I find at last an
opportunity of noticing in explanatory notes many details of the text
which would escape the reader's observation, and I am confident that
they will form a repertory of Eastern knowledge in its esoteric phase.
The student who adds the notes of Lane ("Arabian Society," etc., before
quoted) to mine will know as much of the Moslem East and more than many
Europeans who have spent half their lives in Orient lands. For facility
of reference an index of anthropological notes is appended to each
volume.
The reader will kindly bear with the following technical details.
Steinhaeuser and I began and ended our work with the first Bulak
("Bul.") Edition printed at the port of Cairo in A.H. 1251=A.D. 1835.
But when preparing my MSS. for print I found the text incomplete, many
of the stories being given in epitome and not a few ruthlessly mutilated
with head or feet wanting. Like most Eastern scribes the Editor could
not refrain from "improvements," which only debased the book; and his
sole title to excuse is that the second Bulak Edition (4 vols. A.H.
1279=A.D. 1863), despite its being "revised and corrected by Sheik
Mahommed Qotch Al-Adewi," is even worse; and the same may be said of the
Cairo Edit. (4 vols. A.H. 1297=A.D. 1881). The Calcutta ("Calc.")
Edition, with ten lines of Persian preface by the Editor, Ahmed
al-Shirwani (A.D. 1814), was cut short at the end of the first two
hundred Nights, and thus made room for Sir William Hay Macnaghten's
Edition (4 vols, royal 4to) of 1839-42. This ("Mac."), as by far the
least corrupt and the most complete, has been assumed for my basis with
occasional reference to the Breslau Edition ("Bres.") wretchedly edited
from a hideous Egyptian MS. by Dr. Maximilian Habicht (1825-43). The
Bayrut Text "Alif-Leila we Leila" (4 vols. gt. 8vo, Beirut. 1881-83) is
a melancholy specimen of The Nights taken entirely from the Bulak
Edition by one Khalil Sarkis and converted to Christianity; beginning
without Bismillah, continued with scrupulous castration and ending in
ennui and disappointment. I have not used this missionary production.
As regards the transliteration of Arabic words I deliberately reject the
artful and complicated system, ugly and clumsy withal, affected by
scientific modern Orientalists. Nor is my sympathy with their prime
object, namely to fit the Roman alphabet for supplanting all others.
Those who learn languages, and many do so, by the eye as well as by the
ear, well know the advantages of a special character to distinguish, for
instance, Syriac from Arabic, Gujrati from Marathi. Again this Roman
hand bewitched may have its use in purely scientific and literary works;
but it would be wholly out of place in one whose purpose is that of the
novel, to amuse rather than to instruct. Moreover the devices perplex
the simple and teach nothing to the learned. Either the reader knows
Arabic, in which case Greek letters, italics and "upper case,"
diacritical points and similar typographic oddities are, as a rule with
some exceptions, unnecessary; or he does not know Arabic, when none of
these expedients will be of the least use to him. Indeed it is a matter
of secondary consideration what system we prefer, provided that we
mostly adhere to one and the same, for the sake of a consistency which
saves confusion to the reader. I have especially avoided that of Mr.
Lane, adopted by Mr. Payne for special reasons against which it was vain
to protest: it represents the debased brogue of Egypt or rather of
Cairo; and such a word as Kemer (ez-Zeman) would be utterly
unpronounceable to a Badawi. Nor have I followed the practice of my
learned friend, Reverend G. P. Badger, in mixing bars and acute accents;
the former unpleasantly remind man of those hateful dactyls and
spondees, and the latter should, in my humble opinion, be applied to
long vowels which in Arabic double, or should double, the length of the
shorts. Dr. Badger uses the acute symbol to denote accent or stress of
voice; but such appoggio is unknown to those who speak with purest
articulation; for instance whilst the European pronounces Mus-cat´, and
the Arab villager Mas´-kat; the Children of the Waste, "on whose tongues
Allah descended," articulate Mas-kat. I have therefore followed the
simple system adopted in my "Pilgrimage," and have accented Arabic words
only when first used, thinking it unnecessary to preserve throughout
what is an eyesore to the reader and a distress to the printer. In the
main I follow "Johnson on Richardson," a work known to every
Anglo-Orientalist as the old and trusty companion of his studies early
and late; but even here I have made sundry deviations for reasons which
will be explained in the terminal Essay. As words are the embodiment of
ideas and writing is of words, so the word is the spoken word; and we
should write it as pronounced. Strictly speaking, the _e_-sound and the
_o_-sound (viz. the Italian _o_-sound not the English which is peculiar
to us and unknown to any other tongue) are not found in Arabic, except
when the figure Imálah obliges: hence they are called "Yá al-Majhúl" and
"Waw al-Majhúl" the unknown y (í) and u. But in all tongues
vowel-sounds, the flesh which clothes the bones (consonants) of
language, are affected by the consonants which precede and more
especially which follow them, hardening and softening the articulation;
and deeper sounds accompany certain letters as the sád (ص) compared with
the sín (س). None save a defective ear would hold, as Lane does,
"Maulid" (=birth-festival) "more properly pronounced 'Molid.'" Yet I
prefer Khokh (peach) and Jokh (broad-cloth) to Khukh and Jukh; Ohod
(mount) to Uhud; Obayd (a little slave) to Ubayd; and Hosayn (a fortlet,
not the P. N. Al-Husayn) to Husayn. As for the short _e_ in such words
as "Memlúk" for "Mamlúk" (a white slave), "Eshe" for "Asha" (supper),
and "Yemen" for "Al-Yaman," I consider it a flat Egyptianism,
insufferable to an ear which admires the Badawi pronunciation. Yet I
prefer "Shelebi" (a dandy) from the Turkish Chelebi, to "Shalabi;"
"Zebdani" (the Syrian village) to "Zabdani," and "Fes and Miknes" (by
the figure Imálah) to "Fás and Miknás," our "Fez and Mequinez."
With respect to proper names and untranslated Arabic words I have
rejected all system in favour of common sense. When a term is
incorporated in our tongue, I refuse to follow the purist and mortify
the reader by startling innovation. For instance, Aleppo, Cairo and
Bassorah are preferred to Halab, Kahirah and Al-Basrah; when a word is
half-naturalised, like Alcoran or Koran, Bashaw or Pasha, which the
French write Pacha; and Mahomet or Mohammed (for Muhammad), the modern
form is adopted because the more familiar. But I see no advantage in
retaining, simply because they are the mistakes of a past generation,
such words as "Roc" (for Rukh), Khalif (a pretentious blunder for
Khalífah and better written Caliph) and "genie" (=Jinn) a mere Gallic
corruption not so terrible, however, as "a Bedouin" (=Badawi). As little
too would I follow Mr. Lane in foisting upon the public such Arabisms as
"Khuff" (a riding-boot), "Mikra'ah" (a palm-rod) and a host of others
for which we have good English equivalents. On the other hand I would
use, but use sparingly, certain Arabic exclamations, as "Bismillah" (=in
the name of Allah!) and "Inshallah" (=if Allah please!), which have
special applications and which have been made familiar to English ears
by the genius of Fraser and Morier.
I here end these desultory but necessary details to address the reader
in a few final words. He will not think lightly of my work when I repeat
to him that with the aid of my annotations supplementing Lane's, the
student will readily and pleasantly learn more of the Moslem's manners
and customs, laws and religion than is known to the average Orientalist;
and, if my labours induce him to attack the text of The Nights he will
become master of much more Arabic than the ordinary Arab owns. This book
is indeed a legacy which I bequeath to my fellow-countrymen in their
hour of need. Over devotion to Hindu, and especially to Sanskrit
literature, has led them astray from those (so-called) "Semitic"
studies, which are the more requisite for us as they teach us to deal
successfully with a race more powerful than any pagans—the Moslem.
Apparently England is ever forgetting that she is at present the
greatest Mohammedan empire in the world. Of late years she has
systematically neglected Arabism and, indeed, actively discouraged it in
examinations for the Indian Civil Service, where it is incomparably more
valuable than Greek and Latin. Hence, when suddenly compelled to assume
the reins of government in Moslem lands, as Afghanistan in times past
and Egypt at present, she fails after a fashion which scandalises her
few (very few) friends; and her crass ignorance concerning the Oriental
peoples which should most interest her, exposes her to the contempt of
Europe as well as of the Eastern world. When the regretable raids of
1883-84, culminating in the miserable affairs of Tokar, Teb and Tamasi,
were made upon the gallant Sudani Negroids, the Bisharin outlying
Sawakin, who were battling for the holy cause of liberty and religion
and for escape from Turkish task-masters and Egyptian tax-gatherers, not
an English official in camp, after the death of the gallant and lamented
Major Morice, was capable of speaking Arabic. Now Moslems are not to be
ruled by raw youths who should be at school and college instead of
holding positions of trust and emolument. He who would deal with them
successfully must be, firstly, honest and truthful and, secondly,
familiar with and favourably inclined to their manners and customs if
not to their law and religion. We may, perhaps, find it hard to restore
to England those pristine virtues, that tone and temper, which made her
what she is; but at any rate we (myself and a host of others) can offer
her the means of dispelling her ignorance concerning the Eastern races
with whom she is continually in contact.
In conclusion I must not forget to notice that the Arabic ornamentations
of these volumes were designed by my excellent friend Yacoub Artin
Pasha, of the Ministry of Instruction, Cairo, with the aid of the
well-known writing-artist, Shaykh Mohammed Muunis the Cairene. My name,
Al-Hajj Abdullah (=the Pilgrim Abdallah) was written by an English
calligrapher, the lamented Professor Palmer who found a premature death
almost within sight of Suez.
RICHARD F. BURTON.
WANDERERS' CLUB, _August 15, 1885_.
CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
PAGE
INTRODUCTION 1
STORY OF KING SHAHRYAR AND HIS BROTHER 2
_a._ TALE OF THE BULL AND THE ASS 16
(_Lane, vol. I._, 1-16.)
1. TALE OF THE TRADER AND THE JINNI 24
(_Chapt. I. Story of the Merchant and the Jinnee: p. 43._)
_a._ THE FIRST SHAYKH'S STORY 27
(_Story of the First Sheykh and the Gazelle: p. 48._)
_b._ THE SECOND SHAYKH'S STORY 32
(_Story of the Second Sheykh and the two Black Hounds: p. 52._)
_c._ THE THIRD SHAYKH'S STORY 36
(_Story of the Third Sheykh and the Mule: p. 56._)
2. THE FISHERMAN AND THE JINNI 38
(_Chapt. II. Story of the Fisherman: p. 78._)
_a._ TALE OF THE WAZIR AND THE SAGE DUBAN 45
(_Story of King Yoonan and the Sage Dooban: p. 84._)
_ab._ STORY OF KING SINDIBAD AND HIS FALCON 50
_ac._ TALE OF THE HUSBAND AND THE PARROT 52
(_Story of the Husband and the Parrot: p. 89._)
_ad._ TALE OF THE PRINCE AND THE OGRESS 54
(_Story of the Envious Wezeer and the Prince and the Ghoolah:
p. 91._)
_b._ TALE OF THE ENSORCELLED PRINCE 69
(_Story of the Young King of the Black Islands: p. 106._)
3. THE PORTER AND THE THREE LADIES OF BAGHDAD 82
(_Chapt. III. Story of the Porter and the Ladies of Baghdad,
and of the three Royal Mendicants, etc.: p. 136._)
_a._ THE FIRST KALANDAR'S TALE 104
(_Story of the First Royal Mendicant: p. 150._)
_b._ THE SECOND KALANDAR'S TALE 113
(_Story of the Second Royal Mendicant: p. 157._)
_ba._ TALE OF THE ENVIER AND THE ENVIED 123
(_Story of the Envier and the Envied: p. 166._)
_c._ THE THIRD KALANDAR'S TALE 139
(_Story of the Third Royal Mendicant: p. 178._)
_d._ THE ELDEST LADY'S TALE 162
_e._ TALE OF THE PORTRESS 173
CONCLUSION OF THE STORY OF THE PORTER AND THREE LADIES 184
4. TALE OF THE THREE APPLES 186
(_Chapt. IV. Story of the Three Apples, etc.: p. 250._)
5. TALE OF NUR AL-DIN ALI AND HIS SON BADR AL-DIN HASAN 195
(_Story of Noor ed-Deen and his Son, and of Shems ed-Deen and
his Daughter: p. 253._)
6. THE HUNCHBACK'S TALE 255
(_Chapt. V. Story of the Humpback: p. 238._)
_a._ THE NAZARENE BROKER'S STORY 262
(_Story told by the Christian Broker: p. 334._)
_b._ THE REEVE'S TALE 278
(_Story told by the Sultan's Steward: p. 348._)
_c._ TALE OF THE JEWISH DOCTOR 288
(_Story told by the Jewish Physician: p. 359._)
_d._ TALE OF THE TAILOR 300
(_Story told by the Tailor: p. 368._)
_e._ THE BARBER'S TALE OF HIMSELF 317
(_The Barber's Story of Himself: p. 383._)
_ea._ THE BARBER'S TALE OF HIS FIRST BROTHER 319
(_The Barber's Story of His First Brother: p. 385._)
_eb._ THE BARBER'S TALE OF HIS SECOND BROTHER 324
(_The Barber's Story of His Second Brother: p. 389._)
_ec._ THE BARBER'S TALE OF HIS THIRD BROTHER 328
(_The Barber's Story of His Third Brother: p. 392_)
_ed._ THE BARBER'S TALE OF HIS FOURTH BROTHER 331
(_The Barber's Story of His Fourth Brother: p. 396._)
_ee._ THE BARBER'S TALE OF HIS FIFTH BROTHER 335
(_The Barber's Story of His Fifth Brother: p. 400._)
_ef._ THE BARBER'S TALE OF HIS SIXTH BROTHER 343
(_The Barber's Story of His Sixth Brother._)
THE END OF THE TAILOR'S TALE 348
THE BOOK OF THE
THOUSAND NIGHTS AND A NIGHT.
(_ALF LAYLAH WA LAYLAH._)
In the Name of Allah,
the Compassionating, the Compassionate!
_PRAISE BE TO ALLAH ✿ THE BENEFICENT KING ✿ THE CREATOR OF THE UNIVERSE
✿ LORD OF THE THREE WORLDS ✿ WHO SET UP THE FIRMAMENT WITHOUT PILLARS
IN ITS STEAD ✿ AND WHO STRETCHED OUT THE EARTH EVEN AS A BED ✿ AND
GRACE, AND PRAYER-BLESSING BE UPON OUR LORD MOHAMMED ✿ LORD OF
APOSTOLIC MEN ✿ AND UPON HIS FAMILY AND COMPANION-TRAIN ✿ PRAYER AND
BLESSINGS ENDURING AND GRACE WHICH UNTO THE DAY OF DOOM SHALL REMAIN ✿
AMEN! ✿ O THOU OF THE THREE WORLDS SOVEREIGN!_
* * * * *
And afterwards. Verily the works and words of those gone before us have
become instances and examples to men of our modern day, that folk may
view what admonishing chances befel other folk and may therefrom take
warning; and that they may peruse the annals of antique peoples and all
that hath betided them, and be thereby ruled and restrained:—Praise,
therefore, be to Him who hath made the histories of the Past an
admonition unto the Present! Now of such instances are the tales called
"A Thousand Nights and a Night," together with their far-famed legends
and wonders. Therein it is related (but Allah is All-knowing of His
hidden things and All-ruling and All-honoured and All-giving and
All-gracious and All-merciful![1]) that, in tide of yore and in time
long gone before, there was a King of the Kings of the Banu Sásán in
the Islands of India and China, a Lord of armies and guards and
servants and dependents.[2] He left only two sons, one in the prime of
manhood and the other yet a youth, while both were Knights and Braves,
albeit the elder was a doughtier horseman than the younger. So he
succeeded to the empire; when he ruled the land and lorded it over his
lieges with justice so exemplary that he was beloved by all the peoples
of his capital and of his kingdom. His name was King Shahryár,[3] and
he made his younger brother, Shah Zamán hight, King of Samarcand in
Barbarian-land. These two ceased not to abide in their several realms
and the law was ever carried out in their dominions; and each ruled his
own kingdom, with equity and fair-dealing to his subjects, in extreme
solace and enjoyment; and this condition continually endured for a
score of years. But at the end of the twentieth twelvemonth the elder
King yearned for a sight of his younger brother and felt that he must
look upon him once more. So he took counsel with his Wazir[4] about
visiting him, but the Minister, finding the project unadvisable,
recommended that a letter be written and a present be sent under his
charge to the younger brother with an invitation to visit the elder.
Having accepted this advice the King forthwith bade prepare handsome
gifts, such as horses with saddles of gem-encrusted gold; Mamelukes, or
white slaves; beautiful handmaids, high-breasted virgins, and splendid
stuffs and costly. He then wrote a letter to Shah Zaman expressing his
warm love and great wish to see him, ending with these words, "We
therefore hope of the favour and affection of the beloved brother that
he will condescend to bestir himself and turn his face us-wards.
Furthermore we have sent our Wazir to make all ordinance for the march,
and our one and only desire is to see thee ere we die; but if thou
delay or disappoint us we shall not survive the blow. Wherewith peace
be upon thee!" Then King Shahryar, having sealed the missive and given
it to the Wazir with the offerings aforementioned, commanded him to
shorten his skirts and strain his strength and make all expedition in
going and returning. "Harkening and obedience!" quoth the Minister, who
fell to making ready without stay and packed up his loads and prepared
all his requisites without delay. This occupied him three days, and on
the dawn of the fourth he took leave of his King and marched right
away, over desert and hill-way, stony waste and pleasant lea without
halting by night or by day. But whenever he entered a realm whose ruler
was subject to his Suzerain, where he was greeted with magnificent
gifts of gold and silver and all manner of presents fair and rare, he
would tarry there three days,[5] the term of the guest-rite; and, when
he left on the fourth, he would be honourably escorted for a whole
day's march. As soon as the Wazir drew near Shah Zaman's court in
Samarcand he despatched to report his arrival one of his high
officials, who presented himself before the King; and, kissing ground
between his hands, delivered his message. Hereupon the King commanded
sundry of his Grandees and Lords of his realm to fare forth and meet
his brother's Wazir at the distance of a full day's journey; which they
did, greeting him respectfully and wishing him all prosperity and
forming an escort and a procession. When he entered the city he
proceeded straightway to the palace, where he presented himself in the
royal presence; and, after kissing ground and praying for the King's
health and happiness and for victory over all his enemies, he informed
him that his brother was yearning to see him, and prayed for the
pleasure of a visit. He then delivered the letter which Shah Zaman took
from his hand and read: it contained sundry hints and allusions which
required thought; but, when the King had fully comprehended its import,
he said, "I hear and I obey the commands of the beloved brother!"
adding to the Wazir, "But we will not march till after the third day's
hospitality." He appointed for the Minister fitting quarters of the
palace; and, pitching tents for the troops, rationed them with whatever
they might require of meat and drink and other necessaries. On the
fourth day he made ready for wayfare and got together sumptuous
presents befitting his elder brother's majesty, and stablished his
chief Wazir viceroy of the land during his absence. Then he caused his
tents and camels and mules to be brought forth and encamped, with their
bales and loads, attendants and guards, within sight of the city, in
readiness to set out next morning for his brother's capital. But when
the night was half spent he bethought him that he had forgotten in his
palace somewhat which he should have brought with him, so he returned
privily and entered his apartments, where he found the Queen, his wife,
asleep on his own carpet-bed, embracing with both arms a black cook of
loathsome aspect and foul with kitchen grease and grime. When he saw
this the world waxed black before his sight and he said, "If such case
happen while I am yet within sight of the city what will be the doings
of this damned whore during my long absence at my brother's court?" So
he drew his scymitar and, cutting the two in four pieces with a single
blow, left them on the carpet and returned presently to his camp
without letting anyone know of what had happened. Then he gave orders
for immediate departure and set out at once and began his travel; but
he could not help thinking over his wife's treason and he kept ever
saying to himself, "How could she do this deed by me? How could she
work her own death?," till excessive grief seized him, his colour
changed to yellow, his body waxed weak and he was threatened with a
dangerous malady, such an one as bringeth men to die. So the Wazir
shortened his stages and tarried long at the watering-stations and did
his best to solace the King. Now when Shah Zaman drew near the capital
of his brother he despatched vaunt-couriers and messengers of glad
tidings to announce his arrival, and Shahryar came forth to meet him
with his Wazirs and Emirs and Lords and Grandees of his realm; and
saluted him and joyed with exceeding joy and caused the city to be
decorated in his honour. When, however, the brothers met, the elder
could not but see the change of complexion in the younger and
questioned him of his case whereto he replied, "'Tis caused by the
travails of wayfare and my case needs care, for I have suffered from
the change of water and air! but Allah be praised for reuniting me with
a brother so dear and so rare!" On this wise he dissembled and kept his
secret, adding, "O King of the time and Caliph of the tide, only toil
and moil have tinged my face yellow with bile and hath made my eyes
sink deep in my head." Then the two entered the capital in all honour;
and the elder brother lodged the younger in a palace overhanging the
pleasure garden; and, after a time, seeing his condition still
unchanged, he attributed it to his separation from his country and
kingdom. So he let him wend his own ways and asked no questions of him
till one day when he again said, "O my brother, I see that art grown
weaker of body and yellower of colour." "O my brother," replied Shah
Zaman "I have an internal wound:"[6] still he would not tell him what
he had witnessed in his wife. Thereupon Shahryar summoned doctors and
surgeons and bade them treat his brother according to the rules of art,
which they did for a whole month; but their sherbets and potions naught
availed, for he would dwell upon the deed of his wife, and despondency,
instead of diminishing, prevailed, and leechcraft treatment utterly
failed. One day his elder brother said to him, "I am going forth to
hunt and course and to take my pleasure and pastime; maybe this would
lighten thy heart." Shah Zaman, however, refused, saying, "O my
brother, my soul yearneth for naught of this sort and I entreat thy
favour to suffer me tarry quietly in this place, being wholly taken up
with my malady." So King Shah Zaman passed his night in the palace and,
next morning, when his brother had fared forth, he removed from his
room and sat him down at one of the lattice-windows overlooking the
pleasure grounds; and there he abode thinking with saddest thought over
his wife's betrayal and burning sighs issued from his tortured breast.
And as he continued in this case lo! a postern of the palace, which was
carefully kept private, swung open and out of it came twenty slave
girls surrounding his brother's wife who was wondrous fair, a model of
beauty and comeliness and symmetry and perfect loveliness and who paced
with the grace of a gazelle which panteth for the cooling stream.
Thereupon Shah Zaman drew back from the window, but he kept the bevy in
sight espying them from a place whence he could not be espied. They
walked under the very lattice and advanced a little way into the garden
till they came to a jetting fountain amiddlemost a great basin of
water; then they stripped off their clothes and behold, ten of them
were women, concubines of the King, and the other ten were white
slaves. Then they all paired off, each with each: but the Queen, who
was left alone, presently cried out in a loud voice, "Here to me, O my
lord Saeed!" and then sprang with a drop-leap from one of the trees a
big slobbering blackamoor with rolling eyes which showed the whites, a
truly hideous sight.[7] He walked boldly up to her and threw his arms
round her neck while she embraced him as warmly; then he bussed her and
winding his legs round hers, as a button-loop clasps a button, he threw
her and enjoyed her. On like wise did the other slaves with the girls
till all had satisfied their passions, and they ceased not from kissing
and clipping, coupling and carousing till day began to wane; when the
Mamelukes rose from the damsels' bosoms and the blackamoor slave
dismounted from the Queen's breast; the men resumed their disguises and
all, except the negro who swarmed up the tree, entered the palace and
closed the postern-door as before. Now, when Shah Zaman saw this
conduct of his sister-in-law he said in himself, "By Allah, my calamity
is lighter than this! My brother is a greater King among the kings than
I am, yet this infamy goeth on in his very palace, and his wife is in
love with that filthiest of filthy slaves. But this only showeth that
they all do it[8] and that there is no woman but who cuckoldeth her
husband, then the curse of Allah upon one and all and upon the fools
who lean against them for support or who place the reins of conduct in
their hands. So he put away his melancholy and despondency, regret and
repine, and allayed his sorrow by constantly repeating those words,
adding "'Tis my conviction that no man in this world is safe from their
malice!" When supper-time came they brought him the trays and he ate
with voracious appetite, for he had long refrained from meat, feeling
unable to touch any dish however dainty. Then he returned grateful
thanks to Almighty Allah, praising Him and blessing Him, and he spent a
most restful night, it having been long since he had savoured the sweet
food of sleep. Next day he broke his fast heartily and began to recover
health and strength, and presently regained excellent condition. His
brother came back from the chase ten days after, when he rode out to
meet him and they saluted each other; and when King Shahryar looked at
King Shah Zaman he saw how the hue of health had returned to him, how
his face had waxed ruddy and how he ate with an appetite after his late
scanty diet. He wondered much and said, "O my brother, I was so anxious
that thou wouldst join me in hunting and chasing, and wouldst take thy
pleasure and pastime in my dominion!" He thanked him and excused
himself; then the two took horse and rode into the city and, when they
were seated at their ease in the palace, the food-trays were set before
them and they ate their sufficiency. After the meats were removed and
they had washed their hands, King Shahryar turned to his brother and
said, "My mind is overcome with wonderment at thy condition. I was
desirous to carry thee with me to the chase but I saw thee changed in
hue, pale and wan to view, and in sore trouble of mind too. But now
Alhamdolillah—glory be to God!—I see thy natural colour hath returned
to thy face and that thou art again in the best of case. It was my
belief that thy sickness came of severance from thy family and friends,
and absence from capital and country, so I refrained from troubling
thee with further questions. But now I beseech thee to expound to me
the cause of thy complaint and thy change of colour, and to explain the
reason of thy recovery and the return to the ruddy hue of health which
I am wont to view. So speak out and hide naught! When Shah Zaman heard
this he bowed ground-wards awhile his head, then raised it and said, "I
will tell thee what caused my complaint and my loss of colour; but
excuse my acquainting thee with the cause of its return to me and the
reason of my complete recovery: indeed I pray thee not to press me for
a reply." Said Shahryar, who was much surprised by these words, "Let me
hear first what produced thy pallor and thy poor condition." "Know,
then, O my brother," rejoined Shah Zaman, "that when thou sentest thy
Wazir with the invitation to place myself between thy hands, I made
ready and marched out of my city; but presently I minded me having left
behind me in the palace a string of jewels intended as a gift to thee.
I returned for it alone and found my wife on my carpet-bed and in the
arms of a hideous black cook. So I slew the twain and came to thee, yet
my thoughts brooded over this business and I lost my bloom and became
weak. But excuse me if I still refuse to tell thee what was the reason
of my complexion returning." Shahryar shook his head, marvelling with
extreme marvel, and with the fire of wrath flaming up from his heart,
he cried, "Indeed, the malice of woman is mighty!" Then he took refuge
from them with Allah and said, "In very sooth, O my brother, thou hast
escaped many an evil by putting thy wife to death,[9] and right
excusable were thy wrath and grief for such mishap which never yet
befel crowned King like thee. By Allah, had the case been mine, I would
not have been satisfied without slaying a thousand women and that way
madness lies! But now praise be to Allah who hath tempered to thee thy
tribulation, and needs must thou acquaint me with that which so
suddenly restored to thee complexion and health, and explain to me what
causeth this concealment." "O King of the Age, again I pray thee excuse
my so doing!" "Nay, but thou must." "I fear, O my brother, lest the
recital cause thee more anger and sorrow than afflicted me." "That were
but a better reason," quoth Shahryar, "for telling me the whole
history, and I conjure thee by Allah not to keep back aught from me."
Thereupon Shah Zaman told him all he had seen, from commencement to
conclusion, ending with these words, "When I beheld thy calamity and
the treason of thy wife, O my brother, and I reflected that thou art in
years my senior and in sovereignty my superior, mine own sorrow was
belittled by the comparison, and my mind recovered tone and temper: so
throwing off melancholy and despondency, I was able to eat and drink
and sleep, and thus I speedily regained health and strength. Such is
the truth and the whole truth." When King Shahryar heard this he waxed
wroth with exceeding wrath, and rage was like to strangle him; but
presently he recovered himself and said, "O my brother, I would not
give thee the lie in this matter, but I cannot credit it till I see it
with mine own eyes." "An thou wouldst look upon thy calamity," quoth
Shah Zaman, "rise at once and make ready again for hunting and
coursing,[10] and then hide thyself with me, so shalt thou witness it
and thine eyes shall verify it." "True," quoth the King; whereupon he
let make proclamation of his intent to travel, and the troops and tents
fared forth without the city, camping within sight, and Shahryar
sallied out with them and took seat amidmost his host, bidding the
slaves admit no man to him. When night came on he summoned his Wazir
and said to him, "Sit thou in my stead and let none wot of my absence
till the term of three days." Then the brothers disguised themselves
and returned by night with all secrecy to the palace, where they passed
the dark hours: and at dawn they seated themselves at the lattice
overlooking the pleasure grounds, when presently the Queen and her
handmaids came out as before, and passing under the windows made for
the fountain. Here they stripped, ten of them being men to ten women,
and the King's wife cried out, "Where art thou, O Saeed?" The hideous
blackamoor dropped from the tree straightway; and, rushing into her
arms without stay or delay, cried out, "I am Sa'ad al-Din Saood!"[11]
The lady laughed heartily, and all fell to satisfying their lusts, and
remained so occupied for a couple of hours, when the white slaves rose
up from the handmaidens' breasts and the blackamoor dismounted from the
Queen's bosom: then they went into the basin and, after performing the
Ghusl, or complete ablution, donned their dresses and retired as they
had done before. When King Shahryar saw this infamy of his wife and
concubines he became as one distraught and he cried out, "Only in utter
solitude can man be safe from the doings of this vile world! By Allah,
life is naught but one great wrong." Presently he added, "Do not thwart
me, O my brother, in what I propose;" and the other answered, "I will
not." So he said, "Let us up as we are and depart forthright hence, for
we have no concern with Kingship, and let us over-wander Allah's earth,
worshipping the Almighty till we find some one to whom the like
calamity hath happened; and if we find none then will death be more
welcome to us than life." So the two brothers issued from a second
private postern of the palace; and they never stinted wayfaring by day
and by night, until they reached a tree a-middle of a meadow hard by a
spring of sweet water on the shore of the salt sea. Both drank of it
and sat down to take their rest; and when an hour of the day had gone
by, lo! they heard a mighty roar and uproar in the middle of the main
as though the heavens were falling upon the earth; and the sea brake
with waves before them, and from it towered a black pillar, which grew
and grew till it rose sky-wards and began making for that meadow.
Seeing it, they waxed fearful exceedingly and climbed to the top of the
tree, which was a lofty; whence they gazed to see what might be the
matter. And behold, it was a Jinni,[12] huge of height and burly of
breast and bulk, broad of brow and black of blee, bearing on his head a
coffer of crystal. He strode to land, wading through the deep, and
coming to the tree whereupon were the two Kings, seated himself beneath
it. He then set down the coffer on its bottom and out of it drew a
casket, with seven padlocks of steel, which he unlocked with seven keys
of steel he took from beside his thigh, and out of it a young lady to
come was seen, white-skinned and of winsomest mien, of stature fine and
thin, and bright as though a moon of the fourteenth night she had been,
or the sun raining lively sheen. Even so the poet Utayyah hath
excellently said:—
She rose like the morn as she shone through the night ✿ And she gilded
the grove with her gracious sight:
From her radiance the sun taketh increase when ✿ She unveileth and
shameth the moonshine bright.
Bow down all beings between her hands ✿ As she showeth charms with her
veil undight.
And she floodeth cities[13] with torrent tears ✿ When she flasheth her
look of leven-light.
[Illustration]
The Jinni seated her under the tree by his side and looking at her
said, "O choicest love of this heart of mine! O dame of noblest line,
whom I snatched away on thy bride night that none might prevent me
taking thy maidenhead or tumble thee before I did, and whom none save
myself hath loved or hath enjoyed: O my sweetheart! I would lief sleep
a little while." He then laid his head upon the lady's thighs; and,
stretching out his legs which extended down to the sea, slept and
snored and snarked like the roll of thunder. Presently she raised her
head towards the tree-top and saw the two Kings perched near the
summit; then she softly lifted off her lap the Jinni's pate which she
was tired of supporting and placed it upon the ground; then standing
upright under the tree signed to the Kings, "Come ye down, ye two, and
fear naught from this Ifrít."[14] They were in a terrible fright when
they found that she had seen them and answered her in the same manner,
"Allah upon thee[15] and by thy modesty, O lady, excuse us from coming
down!" But she rejoined by saying, "Allah upon you both that ye come
down forthright, and if ye come not, I will rouse upon you my husband,
this Ifrit, and he shall do you to die by the illest of deaths;" and
she continued making signals to them. So, being afraid, they came down
to her and she rose before them and said, "Stroke me a strong stroke,
without stay or delay, otherwise will I arouse and set upon you this
Ifrit who shall slay you straightway." They said to her, "O our lady,
we conjure thee by Allah, let us off this work, for we are fugitives
from such and in extreme dread and terror of this thy husband. How then
can we do it in such a way as thou desirest?" "Leave this talk: it
needs must be so;" quoth she, and she swore them by Him[16] who raised
the skies on high, without prop or pillar, that, if they worked not her
will, she would cause them to be slain and cast into the sea. Whereupon
out of fear King Shahryar said to King Shah Zaman, "O my brother, do
thou what she biddeth thee do;" but he replied, "I will not do it till
thou do it before I do." And they began disputing about futtering her.
Then quoth she to the twain, "How is it I see you disputing and
demurring; if ye do not come forward like men and do the deed of kind
ye two, I will arouse upon you the Ifrit." At this, by reason of their
sore dread of the Jinni, both did by her what she bade them do; and,
when they had dismounted from her, she said, "Well done!" She then took
from her pocket a purse and drew out a knotted string, whereon were
strung five hundred and seventy[17] seal rings, and asked, "Know ye
what be these?" They answered her saying, "We know not!" Then quoth
she; "These be the signets of five hundred and seventy men who have all
futtered me upon the horns of this foul, this foolish, this filthy
Ifrit; so give me also your two seal rings, ye pair of brothers. When
they had drawn their two rings from their hands and given them to her,
she said to them, "Of a truth this Ifrit bore me off on my bride-night,
and put me into a casket and set the casket in a coffer and to the
coffer he affixed seven strong padlocks of steel and deposited me on
the deep bottom of the sea that raves, dashing and clashing with waves;
and guarded me so that I might remain chaste and honest, quotha! that
none save himself might have connexion with me. But I have lain under
as many of my kind as I please, and this wretched Jinni wotteth not
that Destiny may not be averted nor hindered by aught, and that whatso
woman willeth the same she fulfilleth however man nilleth. Even so
saith one of them:—
Rely not on women; ✿ Trust not to their hearts,
Whose joys and whose sorrows ✿ Are hung to their parts!
Lying love they will swear thee ✿ Whence guile ne'er departs:
Take Yusuf[18] for sample ✿ 'Ware sleights and 'ware smarts!
Iblis[19] ousted Adam ✿ (See ye not?) thro' their arts.
And another saith:—
"Stint thy blame, man! 'Twill drive to a passion without bound; ✿ My
fault is not so heavy as fault in it hast found.
If true lover I become, then to me there cometh not ✿ Save what
happened unto many in the by-gone stound.
For wonderful is he and right worthy of our praise ✿ Who from wiles of
female wits kept him safe and kept him sound."
Hearing these words they marvelled with exceeding marvel, and she went
from them to the Ifrit and, taking up his head on her thigh as before,
said to them softly, "Now wend your ways and bear yourselves beyond the
bounds of his malice." So they fared forth saying either to other,
"Allah! Allah!" and, "There be no Majesty and there be no Might save in
Allah, the Glorious, the Great; and with Him we seek refuge from
women's malice and sleight, for of a truth it hath no mate in might.
Consider, O my brother, the ways of this marvellous lady with an Ifrit
who is so much more powerful than we are. Now since there hath happened
to him a greater mishap than that which befel us and which should bear
us abundant consolation, so return we to our countries and capitals,
and let us decide never to intermarry with womankind and presently we
will show them what will be our action." Thereupon they rode back to
the tents of King Shahryar, which they reached on the morning of the
third day; and, having mustered the Wazirs and Emirs, the Chamberlains
and high officials, he gave a robe of honour to his Viceroy and issued
orders for an immediate return to the city. There he sat him upon his
throne and sending for the Chief Minister, the father of the two
damsels who (Inshallah!) will presently be mentioned, he said, "I
command thee to take my wife and smite her to death; for she hath
broken her plight and her faith." So he carried her to the place of
execution and did her die. Then King Shahryar took brand in hand and
repairing to the Serraglio slew all the concubines and their
Mamelukes.[20] He also sware himself by a binding oath that whatever
wife he married he would abate her maidenhead at night and slay her
next morning to make sure of his honour; "For," said he, "there never
was nor is there one chaste woman upon the face of earth." Then Shah
Zaman prayed for permission to fare homewards; and he went forth
equipped and escorted and travelled till he reached his own country.
Meanwhile Shahryar commanded his Wazir to bring him the bride of the
night that he might go in to her; so he produced a most beautiful girl,
the daughter of one of the Emirs and the King went in unto her at
eventide and when morning dawned he bade his Minister strike off her
head; and the Wazir did accordingly for fear of the Sultan. On this
wise he continued for the space of three years; marrying a maiden every
night and killing her the next morning, till folk raised an outcry
against him and cursed him, praying Allah utterly to destroy him and
his rule; and women made an uproar and mothers wept and parents fled
with their daughters till there remained not in the city a young person
fit for carnal copulation. Presently the King ordered his Chief Wazir,
the same who was charged with the executions, to bring him a virgin as
was his wont; and the Minister went forth and searched and found none;
so he returned home in sorrow and anxiety fearing for his life from the
King. Now he had two daughters, Shahrázád and Dunyázád hight,[21] of
whom the elder had perused the books, annals and legends of preceding
Kings, and the stories, examples and instances of by-gone men and
things; indeed it was said that she had collected a thousand books of
histories relating to antique races and departed rulers. She had
perused the works of the poets and knew them by heart; she had studied
philosophy and the sciences, arts and accomplishments; and she was
pleasant and polite, wise and witty, well read and well bred. Now on
that day she said to her father, "Why do I see thee thus changed and
laden with cark and care? Concerning this matter quoth one of the
poets:—
Tell whoso hath sorrow ✿ Grief never shall last:
E'en as joy hath no morrow ✿ So woe shall go past."
When the Wazir heard from his daughter these words he related to her,
from first to last, all that had happened between him and the King.
Thereupon said she, "By Allah, O my father, how long shall this
slaughter of women endure? Shall I tell thee what is in my mind in
order to save both sides from destruction?" "Say on, O my daughter,"
quoth he, and quoth she, "I wish thou wouldst give me in marriage to
this King Shahryar; either I shall live or I shall be a ransom for the
virgin daughters of Moslems and the cause of their deliverance from his
hands and thine."[22] "Allah upon thee!" cried he in wrath exceeding
that lacked no feeding, "O scanty of wit, expose not thy life to such
peril! How durst thou address me in words so wide from wisdom and
un-far from foolishness? Know that one who lacketh experience in
worldly matters readily falleth into misfortune; and whoso considereth
not the end keepeth not the world to friend, and the vulgar say:—I was
lying at mine ease: nought but my officiousness brought me unease."
"Needs must thou," she broke in, "make me a doer of this good deed, and
let him kill me an he will: I shall only die a ransom for others." "O
my daughter," asked he, "and how shall that profit thee when thou shalt
have thrown away thy life?" and she answered, "O my father it must be,
come of it what will!" The Wazir was again moved to fury and blamed and
reproached her, ending with, "In very deed I fear lest the same befal
thee which befel the Bull and the Ass with the Husbandman." "And what,"
asked she, "befel them, O my father?" Whereupon the Wazir began the
_TALE OF THE BULL[23] AND THE ASS._
Know, O my daughter, that there was once a merchant who owned much
money and many men, and who was rich in cattle and camels; he had also
a wife and family and he dwelt in the country, being experienced in
husbandry and devoted to agriculture. Now Allah Most High had endowed
him with understanding the tongues of beasts and birds of every kind,
but under pain of death if he divulged the gift to any. So he kept it
secret for very fear. He had in his cowhouse a Bull and an Ass each
tethered in his own stall one hard by the other. As the merchant was
sitting near hand one day with his servants and his children were
playing about him, he heard the Bull say to the Ass, "Hail and health
to thee O Father of Waking![24] for that thou enjoyest rest and good
ministering; all under thee is clean-swept and fresh-sprinkled; men
wait upon thee and feed thee, and thy provaunt is sifted barley and thy
drink pure spring-water, while I (unhappy creature!) am led forth in
the middle of the night, when they set on my neck the plough and a
something called Yoke; and I tire at cleaving the earth from dawn of
day till set of sun. I am forced to do more than I can and to bear all
manner of ill-treatment from night to night; after which they take me
back with my sides torn, my neck flayed, my legs aching and mine
eyelids sored with tears. Then they shut me up in the byre and throw me
beans and crushed-straw,[25] mixed with dirt and chaff; and I lie in
dung and filth and foul stinks through the livelong night. But thou art
ever in a place swept and sprinkled and cleansed, and thou art always
lying at ease, save when it happens (and seldom enough!) that the
master hath some business, when he mounts thee and rides thee to town
and returns with thee forthright. So it happens that I am toiling and
distrest while thou takest thine ease and thy rest; thou sleepest while
I am sleepless; I hunger still while thou eatest thy fill, and I win
contempt while thou winnest good will." When the Bull ceased speaking,
the Ass turned towards him and said, "O Broad-o'-Brow,[26] O thou lost
one! he lied not who dubbed thee Bull-head, for thou, O father of a
Bull, hast neither forethought nor contrivance; thou art the simplest
of simpletons,[27] and thou knowest naught of good advisers. Hast thou
not heard the saying of the wise:—
For others these hardships and labours I bear ✿ And theirs is the
pleasure and mine is the care;
As the bleacher who blacketh his brow in the sun ✿ To whiten the
raiment which other men wear."[28]
But thou, O fool, art full of zeal and thou toilest and molest before
the master; and thou tearest and wearest and slayest thyself for the
comfort of another. Hast thou never heard the saw that saith, None to
guide and from the way go wide? Thou wendest forth at the call to
dawn-prayer and thou returnest not till sundown; and through the
livelong day thou endurest all manner hardships; to wit, beating and
belabouring and bad language. Now hearken to me, Sir Bull! when they
tie thee to thy stinking manger, thou pawest the ground with thy
forehand and lashest out with thy hind hoofs and pushest with thy horns
and bellowest aloud, so they deem thee contented. And when they throw
thee thy fodder thou fallest on it with greed and hastenest to line thy
fair fat paunch. But if thou accept my advice it will be better for
thee and thou wilt lead an easier life even than mine. When thou goest
a-field and they lay the thing called Yoke on thy neck, lie down and
rise not again though haply they swinge thee; and, if thou rise, lie
down a second time; and when they bring thee home and offer thee thy
beans, fall backwards and only sniff at thy meat and withdraw thee and
taste it not, and be satisfied with thy crushed straw and chaff; and on
this wise feign thou art sick, and cease not doing thus for a day or
two days or even three days, so shalt thou have rest from toil and
moil." When the Bull heard these words he knew the Ass to be his friend
and thanked him, saying, "Right is thy rede;" and prayed that all
blessings might requite him, and cried, "O Father Wakener![29] thou
hast made up for my failings." (Now[30] the merchant, O my daughter,
understood all that passed between them.) Next day the driver took the
Bull, and settling the plough on his neck,[31] made him work as wont;
but the Bull began to shirk his ploughing, according to the advice of
the Ass, and the ploughman drubbed him till he broke the yoke and made
off; but the man caught him up and leathered him till he despaired of
his life. Not the less, however, would he do nothing but stand still
and drop down till the evening. Then the herd led him home and stabled
him in his stall: but he drew back from his manger and neither stamped
nor ramped nor butted nor bellowed as he was wont to do; whereat the
man wondered. He brought him the beans and husks, but he sniffed at
them and left them and lay down as far from them as he could and passed
the whole night fasting. The peasant came next morning; and, seeing the
manger full of beans, the crushed-straw untasted and the ox lying on
his back in sorriest plight, with legs outstretched and swollen belly,
he was concerned for him, and said to himself, "By Allah, he hath
assuredly sickened and this is the cause why he would not plough
yesterday." Then he went to the merchant and reported, "O my master,
the Bull is ailing; he refused his fodder last night; nay more, he hath
not tasted a scrap of it this morning." Now the merchant-farmer
understood what all this meant, because he had overheard the talk
between the Bull and the Ass, so quoth he, "Take that rascal donkey,
and set the yoke on his neck, and bind him to the plough and make him
do Bull's work." Thereupon the ploughman took the Ass, and worked him
through the livelong day at the Bull's task; and, when he failed for
weakness, he made him eat stick till his ribs were sore and his sides
were sunken and his neck was flayed by the yoke; and when he came home
in the evening he could hardly drag his limbs along, either forehand or
hind-legs. But as for the Bull, he had passed the day lying at full
length and had eaten his fodder with an excellent appetite, and he
ceased not calling down blessings on the Ass for his good advice,
unknowing what had come to him on his account. So when night set in and
the Ass returned to the byre the Bull rose up before him in honour, and
said, "May good tidings gladden thy heart, O Father Wakener! through
thee I have rested all this day and I have eaten my meat in peace and
quiet." But the Ass returned no reply, for wrath and heart-burning and
fatigue and the beating he had gotten; and he repented with the most
grievous of repentance; and quoth he to himself: "This cometh of my
folly in giving good counsel; as the saw saith, I was in joy and
gladness, nought save my officiousness brought me this sadness. But I
will bear in mind my innate worth and the nobility of my nature; for
what saith the poet?
Shall the beautiful hue of the Basil[32] fail ✿ Tho' the beetle's foot
o'er the Basil crawl?
And though spider and fly be its denizens ✿ Shall disgrace attach to
the royal hall?
The cowrie,[33] I ken, shall have currency ✿ But the pearl's clear
drop, shall its value fall?
And now I must take thought and put a trick upon him and return him to
his place, else I die." Then he went aweary to his manger, while the
Bull thanked him and blessed him. And even so, O my daughter, said the
Wazir, thou wilt die for lack of wits; therefore sit thee still and say
naught and expose not thy life to such stress; for, by Allah, I offer
thee the best advice, which cometh of my affection and kindly
solicitude for thee. "O my father," she answered, "needs must I go up
to this King and be married to him." Quoth he, "Do not this deed;" and
quoth she, "Of a truth I will:" whereat he rejoined, "If thou be not
silent and bide still, I will do with thee even what the merchant did
with his wife." "And what did he?" asked she. Know then, answered the
Wazir, that after the return of the Ass the merchant came out on the
terrace-roof with his wife and family, for it was a moonlit night and
the moon at its full. Now the terrace overlooked the cowhouse and
presently, as he sat there with his children playing about him, the
trader heard the Ass say to the Bull, "Tell me, O father Broad o' Brow,
what thou purposest to do to-morrow?" The Bull answered, "What but
continue to follow thy counsel, O Aliboron? Indeed it was as good as
good could be and it hath given me rest and repose; nor will I now
depart from it one tittle: so, when they bring me my meat, I will
refuse it and blow out my belly and counterfeit crank." The Ass shook
his head and said, "Beware of so doing, O Father of a Bull!" The Bull
asked, "Why," and the Ass answered, "Know that I am about to give thee
the best of counsel, for verily I heard our owner say to the herd, If
the Bull rise not from his place to do his work this morning and if he
retire from his fodder this day, make him over to the butcher that he
may slaughter him and give his flesh to the poor, and fashion a bit of
leather[34] from his hide. Now I fear for thee on account of this. So
take my advice ere a calamity befal thee; and when they bring thee thy
fodder eat it and rise up and bellow and paw the ground, or our master
will assuredly slay thee: and peace be with thee!" Thereupon the Bull
arose and lowed aloud and thanked the Ass, and said, "To-morrow I will
readily go forth with them;" and he at once ate up all his meat and
even licked the manger. (All this took place and the owner was
listening to their talk.) Next morning the trader and his wife went to
the Bull's crib and sat down, and the driver came and led forth the
Bull who, seeing his owner, whisked his tail and brake wind, and
frisked about so lustily that the merchant laughed a loud laugh and
kept laughing till he fell on his back. His wife asked him, "Whereat
laughest thou with such loud laughter as this?"; and he answered her,
"I laughed at a secret something which I have heard and seen but cannot
say lest I die my death." She returned, "Perforce thou must discover it
to me, and disclose the cause of thy laughing even if thou come by thy
death!" But he rejoined, "I cannot reveal what beasts and birds say in
their lingo for fear I die. Then quoth she, "By Allah, thou liest! this
is a mere pretext: thou laughest at none save me, and now thou wouldest
hide somewhat from me. But by the Lord of the Heavens! an thou disclose
not the cause I will no longer cohabit with thee: I will leave thee at
once." And she sat down and cried. Whereupon quoth the merchant, "Woe
betide thee! what means thy weeping? Fear Allah and leave these words
and query me no more questions." "Needs must thou tell me the cause of
that laugh," said she, and he replied, "Thou wottest that when I prayed
Allah to vouchsafe me understanding of the tongues of beasts and birds,
I made a vow never to disclose the secret to any Under pain of dying on
the spot." "No matter," cried she, "tell me what secret passed between
the Bull and the Ass and die this very hour an thou be so minded;" and
she ceased not to importune him till he was worn out and clean
distraught. So at last he said, "Summon thy father and thy mother and
our kith and kin and sundry of our neighbours," which she did; and he
sent for the Kazi[35] and his assessors, intending to make his will and
reveal to her his secret and die the death; for he loved her with love
exceeding because she was his cousin, the daughter of his father's
brother, and the mother of his children, and he had lived with her a
life of an hundred and twenty years. Then, having assembled all the
family and the folk of his neighbourhood, he said to them, "By me there
hangeth a strange story, and 'tis such that if I discover the secret to
any, I am a dead man." Therefore quoth every one of those present to
the woman, "Allah upon thee, leave this sinful obstinacy and recognise
the right of this matter, lest haply thy husband and the father of thy
children die." But she rejoined, "I will not turn from it till he tell
me, even though he come by his death." So they ceased to urge her; and
the trader rose from amongst them and repaired to an outhouse to
perform the Wuzu-ablution,[36] and he purposed thereafter to return and
to tell them his secret and to die. Now, daughter Shahrazad, that
merchant had in his out-houses some fifty hens under one cock, and
whilst making ready to farewell his folk he heard one of his many
farm-dogs thus address in his own tongue the Cock, who was flapping his
wings and crowing lustily and jumping from one hen's back to another
and treading all in turn, saying "O Chanticleer! how mean is thy wit
and how shameless is thy conduct! Be he disappointed who brought thee
up?[37] Art thou not ashamed of thy doings on such a day as this?" "And
what," asked the Rooster, "hath occurred this day?," when the Dog
answered, "Dost thou not know that our master is this day making ready
for his death? His wife is resolved that he shall disclose the secret
taught to him by Allah, and the moment he so doeth he shall surely die.
We dogs are all a-mourning; but thou clappest thy wings and clarionest
thy loudest and treadest hen after hen. Is this an hour for pastime and
pleasuring? Art thou not ashamed of thyself?"[38] "Then by Allah,"
quoth the Cock, "is our master a lack-wit and a man scanty of sense: if
he cannot manage matters with a single wife, his life is not worth
prolonging. Now I have some fifty Dame Partlets; and I please this and
provoke that and starve one and stuff another; and through my good
governance they are all well under my control. This our master
pretendeth to wit and wisdom, and he hath but one wife, and yet knoweth
not how to manage her." Asked the Dog, "What then, O Cock, should the
master do to win clear of his strait?" "He should arise forthright,"
answered the Cock, "and take some twigs from yon mulberry-tree and give
her a regular back-basting and rib-roasting till she cry:—I repent, O
my lord! I will never ask thee a question as long as I live! Then let
him beat her once more and soundly, and when he shall have done this he
shall sleep free from care and enjoy life. But this master of ours owns
neither sense nor judgment." "Now, daughter Shahrazad," continued the
Wazir, "I will do to thee as did that husband to that wife." Said
Shahrazad, "And what did he do?" He replied, "When the merchant heard
the wise words spoken by his Cock to his Dog, he arose in haste and
sought his wife's chamber, after cutting for her some mulberry-twigs
and hiding them there; and then he called to her, "Come into the closet
that I may tell thee the secret while no one seeth me and then die."
She entered with him and he locked the door and came down upon her with
so sound a beating of back and shoulders, ribs, arms and legs, saying
the while, "Wilt thou ever be asking questions about what concerneth
thee not?" that she was well nigh senseless. Presently she cried out,
"I am of the repentant! By Allah, I will ask thee no more questions,
and indeed I repent sincerely and wholesomely." Then she kissed his
hand and feet and he led her out of the room submissive as a wife
should be. Her parents and all the company rejoiced and sadness and
mourning were changed into joy and gladness. Thus the merchant learnt
family discipline from his Cock and he and his wife lived together the
happiest of lives until death. And thou also, O my daughter! continued
the Wazir, "Unless thou turn from this matter I will do by thee what
that trader did to his wife." But she answered him with much decision,
"I will never desist, O my father, nor shall this tale change my
purpose. Leave such talk and tattle. I will not listen to thy words
and, if thou deny me, I will marry myself to him despite the nose of
thee. And first I will go up to the King myself and alone and I will
say to him:—I prayed my father to wive me with thee, but he refused,
being resolved to disappoint his lord, grudging the like of me to the
like of thee." Her father asked, "Must this needs be?" and she
answered, "Even so." Hereupon the Wazir being weary of lamenting and
contending, persuading and dissuading her, all to no purpose, went up
to King Shahryar and, after blessing him and kissing the ground before
him, told him all about his dispute with his daughter from first to
last and how he designed to bring her to him that night. The King
wondered with exceeding wonder; for he had made an especial exception
of the Wazir's daughter, and said to him, "O most faithful of
Counsellors, how is this? Thou wottest that I have sworn by the Raiser
of the Heavens that after I have gone into her this night I shall say
to thee on the morrow's morning:—Take her and slay her! and, if thou
slay her not, I will slay thee in her stead without fail." "Allah guide
thee to glory and lengthen thy life, O King of the age," answered the
Wazir, "it is she that hath so determined: all this have I told her and
more; but she will not hearken to me and she persisteth in passing this
coming night with the King's Majesty." So Shahryar rejoiced greatly and
said, "'Tis well; go get her ready and this night bring her to me." The
Wazir returned to his daughter and reported to her the command saying,
"Allah make not thy father desolate by thy loss!" But Shahrazad
rejoiced with exceeding joy and gat ready all she required and said to
her younger sister, Dunyazad, "Note well what directions I entrust to
thee! When I have gone into the King I will send for thee and when thou
comest to me and seest that he hath had his carnal will of me, do thou
say to me:—O my sister, an thou be not sleepy, relate to me some new
story, delectable and delightsome, the better to speed our waking
hours;" and I will tell thee a tale which shall be our deliverance, if
so Allah please, and which shall turn the King from his blood-thirsty
custom." Dunyazad answered "With love and gladness." So when it was
night their father the Wazir carried Shahrazad to the King who was
gladdened at the sight and asked, "Hast thou brought me my need?" and
he answered, "I have." But when the King took her to his bed and fell
to toying with her and wished to go in to her she wept; which made him
ask, "What aileth thee?" She replied, "O King of the age, I have a
younger sister and lief would I take leave of her this night before I
see the dawn." So he sent at once for Dunyazad and she came and kissed
the ground between his hands, when he permitted her to take her seat
near the foot of the couch. Then the King arose and did away with his
bride's maidenhead and the three fell asleep. But when it was midnight
Shahrazad awoke and signalled to her sister Dunyazad who sat up and
said, "Allah upon thee, O my sister, recite to us some new story,
delightsome and delectable, wherewith to while away the waking hours of
our latter night."[39] "With joy and goodly gree," answered Shahrazad,
"if this pious and auspicious King permit me." "Tell on," quoth the
King who chanced to be sleepless and restless and therefore was pleased
with the prospect of hearing her story. So Shahrazad rejoiced; and
thus, on the first night of the Thousand Nights and a Night, she began
with the
-----
Footnote 1:
Ailaho A'alam, a deprecatory formula, used because the writer is
going to indulge in a series of what may possibly be untruths.
Footnote 2:
The "Sons of Sásán" are the famous Sassanides whose dynasty ended
with the Arabian Conquest (A.D. 641). "Island" (Jazírah) in Arabic
also means "Peninsula," and causes much confusion in geographical
matters.
Footnote 3:
Shahryár not Shahriyar (Persian)="City-friend." The Bulak edition
corrupts it to Shahrbáz (City-hawk), and the Breslau to Shahrbán or
"Defender of the City," like Marz-ban=Warden of the Marshes. Shah
Zamán (Persian)="King of the Age:" Galland prefers Shah Zenan, or
"King of women," and the Bul. edit. changes it to Shah Rummán,
"Pomegranate King." Al-Ajam denotes all regions not Arab (Gentiles
opposed to Jews, Mlechchhas to Hindus, Tajiks to Turks, etc., etc.),
and especially Persia; Ajami (a man of Ajam) being an equivalent of
the Gr. Βάρβαρος. See Vol. ii., p. 1.
Footnote 4:
Galland writes "Vizier," a wretched frenchification of a mincing
Turkish mispronunciation; Torrens, "Wuzeer" (Anglo-Indian and
Gilchristian); Lane, "Wezeer" (Egyptian or rather Cairene); Payne,
"Vizier," according to his system; Burckhardt (Proverbs), "Vizír;"
and Mr. Keith-Falconer, "Vizir." The root is popularly supposed to be
"wizr" (burden) and the meaning "Minister;" Wazír al-Wuzará being
"Premier." In the Koran (chapt. xx., 30) Moses says, "Give me a Wazir
of my family, Harun (Aaron) my brother." Sale, followed by the
excellent version of the Rev. J. M. Rodwell, translates a
"Counsellor," and explains by "One who has the chief administration
of affairs under a prince." But both learned Koranists learnt their
Orientalism in London, and, like such students generally, fail only
upon the easiest points, familiar to all old dwellers in the East.
Footnote 5:
This three-days term (rest-day, drest-day and departure day) seems to
be an instinct-made rule in hospitality. Among Moslems it is a Sunnat
or practice of the Prophet.
Footnote 6:
_i.e._, I am sick at heart.
Footnote 7:
Debauched women prefer negroes on account of the size of their parts.
I measured one man in Somali-land who, when quiescent, numbered
nearly six inches. This is a characteristic of the negro race and of
African animals: _e.g._ the horse; whereas the pure Arab, man and
beast, is below the average of Europe; one of the best proofs by the
by, that the Egyptian is not an Asiatic, but a negro partially
whitewashed. Moreover, these imposing parts do not increase
proportionally during erection; consequently, the "deed of kind"
takes a much longer time and adds greatly to the woman's enjoyment.
In my time no honest Hindi Moslem would take his womenfolk to
Zanzibar on account of the huge attractions and enormous temptations
there and thereby offered to them. Upon the subject of
Imsák=retention of semen and "prolongation of pleasure," I shall find
it necessary to say more.
Footnote 8:
The very same words were lately spoken in England proving the eternal
truth of The Nights which the ignorant call "downright lies."
Footnote 9:
The Arab's _Tue la!_
Footnote 10:
Arab. "Sayd wa kanas": the former usually applied to fishing; hence
Sayda (Sidon)=fish-town. But noble Arabs (except the Caliph Al-Amin)
do not fish; so here it means simply "sport," chasing, coursing,
birding (oiseler), and so forth.
Footnote 11:
In the Mac. Edit, the negro is called "Mas'úd"; here he utters a kind
of war-cry and plays upon the name, Sa'ád, Sa'íd, Sa'úd, and Mas'ud,
all being derived from one root, "Sa'ad"=auspiciousness, prosperity.
Footnote 12:
The Arab singular (whence the French "génie"); fem. Jinniyah; the Div
and Rakshah of old Guebre-land and the "Rakshasa," or "Yaksha," of
Hinduism. It would be interesting to trace the evident connection, by
no means "accidental," of "Jinn" with the "Genius" who came to the
Romans through the Asiatic Etruscans, and whose name I cannot derive
from "gignomai" or "genitus." He was unknown to the Greeks, who had
the Daimon (δαίμον), a family which separated, like the Jinn and the
Genius, into two categories, the good (Agatho-dæmons) and the bad
(Kako-dæmons). We know nothing concerning the status of the Jinn
amongst the pre-Moslemitic or pagan Arabs: the Moslems made him a
supernatural anthropoid being, created of subtile fire (Koran,
chapts. xv. 27; lv. 14), not of earth like man, propagating his kind,
ruled by mighty kings, the last being Ján bin Ján, missionarised by
Prophets and subject to death and Judgment. From the same root are
"Junún"=madness (_i.e._, possession or obsession by the Jinn) and
"Majnún"=a madman. According to R. Jeremiah bin Eliazar in Psalm xli.
5, Adam was excommunicated for one hundred and thirty years, during
which he begat children in his own image (Gen. v. 3) and these were
Mazikeen or Shedeem—Jinns. Further details anent the Jinn will
presently occur.
Footnote 13:
Arab "Amsár" (cities): in Bul. Edit. "Amtár" (rains), as in Mac.
Edit. So Mr. Payne (I., 5) translates:—
And when she flashes forth the lightning of her glance, She maketh
eyes to rain, like showers, with many a tear.
I would render it, "She makes whole cities shed tears;" and prefer it
for a reason which will generally influence me—its superior
exaggeration and impossibility.
Footnote 14:
Not "A-frit," pronounced Aye-frit, as our poets have it. This variety
of the Jinn, who, as will be shown, are divided into two races like
mankind, is generally, but not always, a malignant being, hostile and
injurious to mankind (Koran xxvii. 39).
Footnote 15:
_i.e._, "I conjure thee by Allah;" the formula is technically called
"Inshád."
Footnote 16:
This introducing the name of Allah into an indecent tale is
essentially Egyptian and Cairene. But see Boccacio ii. 6; and vii. 9.
Footnote 17:
So in the Mac. Edit.; in others "ninety." I prefer the greater number
as exaggeration is a part of the humour. In the Hindu "Kathá Sárit
Ságara" (Sea of the Streams of Story), the rings are one hundred and
the catastrophe is more moral; the good youth Yashodhara rejects the
wicked one's advances; she awakes the water-sprite, who is about to
slay him, but the rings are brought as testimony and the improper
young person's nose is duly cut off. (Chapt. lxiii.; p. 80, of the
excellent translation by Prof. C. H. Tawney: for the Bibliotheca
Indica: Calcutta, 1881.) The Kathá, etc., by Somadeva (century xi),
is a poetical version of the prose compendium, the "Vrihat Kathá"
(Great Story) by Gunadhya (cent. vi).
Footnote 18:
The Joseph of the Koran, very different from him of Genesis. We shall
meet him often enough in The Nights.
Footnote 19:
"Iblis," vulgarly written "Eblis," from a root meaning The Despairer,
with a suspicious likeness to Diabolos; possibly from "Balas," a
profligate. Some translate it The Calumniator, as Satan is the Hater.
Iblis (who appears in the Arab. version of the N. Testament)
succeeded another revolting angel Al-Haris; and his story of pride,
refusing to worship Adam, is told four times in the Koran from the
Talmud (Sanhedrim 29). He caused Adam and Eve to lose Paradise (ii.
34); he still betrays mankind (xxv. 31), and at the end of time he,
with the other devils, will be "gathered together on their knees
round Hell" (xix. 69). He has evidently had the worst of the game and
we wonder, with Origen, Tillotson, Burns and many others, that he
does not throw up the cards.
Footnote 20:
A similar tale is still told at Akká (St. John d'Acre) concerning the
terrible "butcher"—Jazzár (Djezzar) Pasha. One can·hardly pity women
who are fools enough to run such risks. According to Frizzi, Niccolò,
Marquis of Este, after beheading Parisina, ordered all the faithless
wives of Ferrara to be treated in like manner.
Footnote 21:
"Shahrázád (Persian)=City-freer; in the older version Scheherazade
(probably both from Shirzád=lion-born). "Dunyázád=World-freer. The
Bres. Edit. corrupts the former to Sháhrzád or Sháhrazád; and the
Mac. and Calc. to Shahrzád or Shehrzád. I have ventured to restore
the name as it should be. Galland for the second prefers Dinarzade
(?) and Richardson Dinazade (Dinázád=Religion-freer): here I have
followed Lane and Payne; though in "First Footsteps" I was misled by
Galland. See Vol. ii. p. 1.
Footnote 22:
Probably she proposed to "Judith" the King. These learned and clever
young ladies are very dangerous in the East.
Footnote 23:
In Egypt, etc., the bull takes the place of the Western ox. The Arab.
word is "Taur" (Thaur, Saur); in old Persian "Tora" and Lat.
"Taurus," a venerable remnant of the days before the "Semitic" and
"Aryan" families of speech had split into two distinct growths.
"Taur" ends in the Saxon "Steor" and the English "Steer."
Footnote 24:
Arab. "Abú Yakzán"=the Wakener; because the ass brays at dawn.
Footnote 25:
Arab. "Tibn"; straw crushed under the sledge: the hay of Egypt,
Arabia, Syria, etc. The old country custom is to pull up the corn by
handfuls from the roots, leaving the land perfectly bare: hence the
"plucking up" of Hebrew Holy Writ. The object is to preserve every
atom of "Tibn."
Footnote 26:
Arab. "Yá Aftah": Al-Aftah is an epithet of the bull, also of the
chameleon.
Footnote 27:
Arab. "Balid," a favourite Egyptianism often pleasantly confounded
with "Wali" (a Santon); hence the latter comes to mean "an innocent,"
a "ninny."
Footnote 28:
From the Calc. Edit., Vol. I., p. 29.
Footnote 29:
Arab. "Abu Yakzán" is hardly equivalent with "Père l'Eveillé."
Footnote 30:
In Arab. the wa (وَ) is the sign of parenthesis.
Footnote 31:
In the nearer East the light little plough is carried a-field by the
bull or ass.
Footnote 32:
Ocymum basilicum, the "royal herb," so much prized all over the East,
especially in India, where, under the name of "Tulsi," it is a shrub
sacred to the merry god Krishna. I found the verses in a MS. copy of
the Nights.
Footnote 33:
Arab. "Sadaf," the Kauri, or cowrie, brought from the Maldive and
Lakdive Archipelago. The Kámús describes this "Wada'" or Concha
Veneris as "a white shell [whence to "shell out"] which is taken out
of the sea, the fissure of which is white like that of the
date-stone. It is hung about the neck to avert the evil eye." The
pearl in Arab. is "Murwarid," hence evidently "Margarita" and
Margaris (woman's name).
Footnote 34:
Arab. "Kat'a" (bit of leather): some read "Nat'a," a leather used by
way of table-cloth, and forming a bag for victuals; but it is never
made of bull's hide.
Footnote 35:
The Older "Cadi," a judge in religious matters. The Shuhúd, or
Assessors, are officers of the Mahkamah or Kazi's Court.
Footnote 36:
Of which more in a future page. He thus purified himself ceremonially
before death.
Footnote 37:
This is Christian rather than Moslem: a favourite Maltese curse is
"Yahrak Kiddísak man rabba-k!"=burn the Saint who brought thee up!
Footnote 38:
A popular Egyptian phrase: the dog and the cock speak like Fellahs.
Footnote 39:
_i.e._ between the last sleep and dawn when they would rise to wash
and pray.
TALE OF THE TRADER AND THE JINNI.
It is related, O auspicious King, that there was a merchant of the
merchants who had much wealth, and business in various cities. Now on a
day he mounted horse and went forth to recover monies in certain towns,
and the heat sore oppressed him; so he sat beneath a tree and, putting
his hand into his saddle-bags, took thence some broken bread and dry
dates and began to break his fast. When he had ended eating the dates
he threw away the stones with force and lo! an Ifrit appeared, huge of
stature and brandishing a drawn sword, wherewith he approached the
merchant and said, "Stand up that I may slay thee, even as thou slewest
my son!" Asked the merchant, "How have I slain thy son?" and he
answered, "When thou atest dates and threwest away the stones they
struck my son full in the breast as he was walking by, so that he died
forthwith."[40] Quoth the merchant, "Verily from Allah we proceeded and
unto Allah are we returning. There is no Majesty, and there is no Might
save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great! If I slew thy son, I slew him
by chance medley. I pray thee now pardon me." Rejoined the Jinni,
"There is no help but I must slay thee." Then he seized him and dragged
him along and, casting him to the earth, raised the sword to strike
him; whereupon the merchant wept, and said, "I commit my case to
Allah," and began repeating these couplets:—
Containeth Time a twain of days, this of blessing that of bane ✿ And
holdeth Life a twain of halves, this of pleasure that of pain.
See'st not when blows the hurricane, sweeping stark and striking strong
✿ None save the forest giant feels the suffering of the strain?
How many trees earth nourisheth of the dry and of the green ✿ Yet none
but those which bear the fruits for cast of stone complain.
See'st not how corpses rise and float on the surface of the tide ✿
While pearls o' price lie hidden in the deepest of the main!
In Heaven are unnumberèd the many of the stars ✿ Yet ne'er a star but
Sun and Moon by eclipse is overta'en.
Well judgest thou the days that saw thy faring sound and well ✿ And
countedst not the pangs and pain whereof Fate is ever fain.
The nights have kept thee safe and the safety brought thee pride ✿ But
bliss and blessings of the night are 'genderers of bane!
When the merchant ceased repeating his verses the Jinni said to him,
"Cut thy words short, by Allah! needs must I slay thee." But the
merchant spake him thus, "Know, O thou Ifrit, that I have debts due to
me and much wealth and children and a wife and many pledges in hand; so
permit me to go home and discharge to every claimant his claim; and I
will come back to thee at the head of the new year. Allah be my
testimony and surety that I will return to thee; and then thou mayest
do with me as thou wilt and Allah is witness to what I say." The Jinni
took sure promise of him and let him go; so he returned to his own city
and transacted his business and rendered to all men their dues and
after informing his wife and children of what had betided him, he
appointed a guardian and dwelt with them for a full year. Then he
arose, and made the Wuzu-ablution to purify himself before death and
took his shroud under his arm and bade farewell to his people, his
neighbours and all his kith and kin, and went forth despite his own
nose.[41] They then began weeping and wailing and beating their breasts
over him; but he travelled until he arrived at the same garden, and the
day of his arrival was the head of the New Year. As he sat weeping over
what had befallen him, behold, a Shaykh,[42] a very ancient man, drew
near leading a chained gazelle; and he saluted that merchant and
wishing him long life said, "What is the cause of thy sitting in this
place and thou alone and this be a resort of evil spirits?" The
merchant related to him what had come to pass with the Ifrit, and the
old man, the owner of the gazelle, wondered and said, "By Allah, O
brother, thy faith is none other than exceeding faith and thy story
right strange; were it graven with gravers on the eye-corners, it were
a warner to whoso would be warned." Then seating himself near the
merchant he said, "By Allah, O my brother, I will not leave thee until
I see what may come to pass with thee and this Ifrit." And presently as
he sat and the two were at talk the merchant began to feel fear and
terror and exceeding grief and sorrow beyond relief and ever-growing
care and extreme despair. And the owner of the gazelle was hard by his
side; when behold, a second Shaykh approached them, and with him were
two dogs both of greyhound breed and both black. The second old man
after saluting them with the salam, also asked them of their tidings
and said "What causeth you to sit in this place, a dwelling of the
Jánn?"[43] So they told him the tale from beginning to end, and their
stay there had not lasted long before there came up a third Shaykh, and
with him a she-mule of bright bay coat; and he saluted them and asked
them why they were seated in that place. So they told him the story
from first to last: and of no avail, O my master, is a twice-told tale!
There he sat down with them, and lo! a dust-cloud advanced and a mighty
sand-devil appeared amidmost of the waste. Presently the cloud opened
and behold, within it was that Jinni hending in hand a drawn sword,
while his eyes were shooting fire-sparks of rage. He came up to them
and, haling away the merchant from among them, cried to him, "Arise
that I may slay thee, as thou slewest my son, the life-stuff of my
liver."[44] The merchant wailed and wept, and the three old men began
sighing and crying and weeping and wailing with their companion.
Presently the first old man (the owner of the gazelle) came out from
among them and kissed the hand of the Ifrit and said, "O Jinni, thou
Crown of the Kings of the Jann! were I to tell thee the story of me and
this gazelle and thou shouldst consider it wondrous wouldst thou give
me a third part of this merchant's blood?" Then quoth the Jinni "Even
so, O Shaykh! if thou tell me this tale, and I hold it a marvellous,
then will I give thee a third of his blood." Thereupon the old man
began to tell
_THE FIRST SHAYKH'S STORY._
Know O Jinni! that this gazelle is the daughter of my paternal uncle,
my own flesh and blood, and I married her when she was a young maid,
and I lived with her well-nigh thirty years, yet was I not blessed with
issue by her. So I took me a concubine,[45] who brought to me the boon
of a male child fair as the full moon, with eyes of lovely shine and
eyebrows which formed one line, and limbs of perfect design. Little by
little he grew in stature and waxed tall; and when he was a lad fifteen
years old, it became needful I should journey to certain cities and I
travelled with great store of goods. But the daughter of my uncle (this
gazelle) had learned gramarye and egromancy and clerkly craft[46] from
her childhood; so she bewitched that son of mine to a calf, and my
handmaid (his mother) to a heifer, and made them over to the herdsman's
care. Now when I returned after a long time from my journey and asked
for my son and his mother, she answered me, saying "Thy slave-girl is
dead, and thy son hath fled and I know not whither he is sped." So I
remained for a whole year with grieving heart, and streaming eyes until
the time came for the Great Festival of Allah.[47] Then sent I to my
herdsman bidding him choose for me a fat heifer; and he brought me one
which was the damsel, my handmaid, whom this gazelle had ensorcelled. I
tucked up my sleeves and skirt and, taking a knife, proceeded to cut
her throat, but she lowed aloud and wept bitter tears. Thereat I
marvelled and pity seized me and I held my hand, saying to the herd,
"Bring me other than this." Then cried my cousin, "Slay her, for I have
not a fatter nor a fairer!" Once more I went forward to sacrifice her,
but she again lowed aloud, upon which in ruth I refrained and commanded
the herdsmen to slay her and flay her. He killed her and skinned her
but found in her neither fat nor flesh, only hide and bone; and I
repented when penitence availed me naught. I gave her to the herdsman
and said to him, "Fetch me a fat calf;" so he brought my son
ensorcelled. When the calf saw me, he brake his tether and ran to me,
and fawned upon me and wailed and shed tears; so that I took pity on
him and said to the herdsman, "Bring me a heifer and let this calf go!"
Thereupon my cousin (this gazelle) called aloud at me, saying, "Needs
must thou kill this calf; this is a holy day and a blessed, whereon
naught is slain save what be perfect-pure; and we have not amongst our
calves any fatter or fairer than this!" Quoth I, "Look thou upon the
condition of the heifer which I slaughtered at thy bidding and how we
turn from her in disappointment and she profited us on no wise; and I
repent with an exceeding repentance of having killed her: so this time
I will not obey thy bidding for the sacrifice of this calf." Quoth she,
"By Allah the Most Great, the Compassionating, the Compassionate! there
is no help for it; thou must kill him on this holy day, and if thou
kill him not to me thou art no man and I to thee am no wife." Now when
I heard those hard words, not knowing her object I went up to the calf,
knife in hand——And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to
say her permitted say.[48] Then quoth her sister to her, "How fair is
thy tale, and how grateful, and how sweet and how tasteful!" And
Shahrazad answered her, "What is this to that I could tell thee on the
coming night, were I to live and the King would spare me?" Then said
the King in himself, "By Allah, I will not slay her, until I shall have
heard the rest of her tale." So they slept the rest of that night in
mutual embrace till day fully brake. Then the King went forth to his
audience-hall[49] and the Wazir went up with his daughter's shroud
under his arm. The King issued his orders, and promoted this and
deposed that, until the end of the day; and he told the Wazir no whit
of what had happened. But the Minister wondered thereat with exceeding
wonder; and when the Court broke up King Shahryar entered his palace.
Now when it was the Second Night,
said Dunyazad to her sister Shahrazad, "O my sister, finish for us that
story of the Merchant and the Jinni;" and she answered, "With joy and
goodly gree, if the King permit me." Then quoth the King, "Tell thy
tale;" and Shahrazad began in these words: It hath reached me, O
auspicious King and Heaven-directed Ruler! that when the merchant
purposed the sacrifice of the calf but saw it weeping, his heart
relented and he said to the herdsman, "Keep the calf among my cattle."
All this the old Shaykh told the Jinni who marvelled much at these
strange words. Then the owner of the gazelle continued:—O Lord of the
Kings of the Jann, this much took place and my uncle's daughter, this
gazelle, looked on and saw it, and said, "Butcher me this calf, for
surely it is a fat one;" but I bade the herdsman take it away and he
took it and turned his face homewards. On the next day as I was sitting
in my own house, lo! the herdsman came and, standing before me said, "O
my master, I will tell thee a thing which shall gladden thy soul, and
shall gain me the gift of good tidings."[50] I answered, "Even so."
Then said he, "O merchant, I have a daughter, and she learned magic in
her childhood from an old woman who lived with us. Yesterday when thou
gavest me the calf, I went into the house to her, and she looked upon
it and veiled her face; then she wept and laughed alternately and at
last she said:—O my father, hath mine honour become so cheap to thee
that thou bringest in to me strange men? I asked her:—Where be these
strange men and why wast thou laughing, and crying?; and she answered,
Of a truth this calf which is with thee is the son of our master, the
merchant; but he is ensorcelled by his stepdame who bewitched both him
and his mother: such is the cause of my laughing; now the reason of his
weeping is his mother, for that his father slew her unawares. Then I
marvelled at this with exceeding marvel and hardly made sure that day
had dawned before I came to tell thee." When I heard, O Jinni, my
herdsman's words, I went out with him, and I was drunken without wine,
from the excess of joy and gladness which came upon me, until I reached
his house. There his daughter welcomed me and kissed my hand, and
forthwith the calf came and fawned upon me as before. Quoth I to the
herdsman's daughter, "Is this true that thou sayest of this calf?"
Quoth she, "Yea, O my master, he is thy son, the very core of thy
heart." I rejoiced and said to her, "O maiden, if thou wilt release him
thine shall be whatever cattle and property of mine are under thy
father's hand." She smiled and answered, "O my master, I have no greed
for the goods nor will I take them save on two conditions; the first
that thou marry me to thy son and the second that I may bewitch her who
bewitched him and imprison her, otherwise I cannot be safe from her
malice and malpractices." Now when I heard, O Jinni, these, the words
of the herdsman's daughter, I replied, "Beside what thou askest all the
cattle and the household stuff in thy father's charge are thine and, as
for the daughter of my uncle, her blood is lawful to thee." When I had
spoken, she took a cup and filled it with water: then she recited a
spell over it and sprinkled it upon the calf, saying, "If Almighty
Allah created thee a calf, remain so shaped, and change not; but if
thou be enchanted, return to thy whilom form, by command of Allah Most
Highest!" and lo! he trembled and became a man. Then I fell on his neck
and said, "Allah upon thee, tell me all that the daughter of my uncle
did by thee and by thy mother." And when he told me what had come to
pass between them I said, "O my son, Allah favoured thee with one to
restore thee, and thy right hath returned to thee." Then, O Jinni, I
married the herdsman's daughter to him, and she transformed my wife
into this gazelle, saying:—Her shape is a comely and by no means
loathsome. After this she abode with us night and day, day and night,
till the Almighty took her to Himself. When she deceased, my son fared
forth to the cities of Hind, even to the city of this man who hath done
to thee what hath been done;[51] and I also took this gazelle (my
cousin) and wandered with her from town to town seeking tidings of my
son, till Destiny drove me to this place where I saw the merchant
sitting in tears. Such is my tale! Quoth the Jinni, "This story is
indeed strange, and therefore I grant thee the third part of his
blood." Thereupon the second old man, who owned the two greyhounds,
came up and said, "O Jinni, if I recount to thee what befel me from my
brothers, these two hounds, and thou see that it is a tale even more
wondrous and marvellous than what thou hast heard, wilt thou grant to
me also the third of this man's blood?" Replied the Jinni, "Thou hast
my word for it, if thine adventures be more marvellous and wondrous."
Thereupon he thus began
_THE SECOND SHAYKH'S STORY._
Know, O lord of the Kings of the Jann! that these two dogs are my
brothers and I am the third. Now when our father died and left us a
capital of three thousand gold pieces,[52] I opened a shop with my
share, and bought and sold therein, and in like guise did my two
brothers, each setting up a shop. But I had been in business no long
while before the elder sold his stock for a thousand dinars, and after
buying outfit and merchandise, went his ways to foreign parts. He was
absent one whole year with the caravan; but one day as I sat in my
shop, behold, a beggar stood before me asking alms, and I said to him,
"Allah open thee another door!"[53] Whereupon he answered, weeping the
while, "Am I so changed that thou knowest me not?" Then I looked at him
narrowly, and lo! it was my brother, so I rose to him and welcomed him;
then I seated him in my shop and put questions concerning his case.
"Ask me not," answered he; "my wealth is awaste and my state hath waxed
un-stated!" So I took him to the Hammám-bath[54] and clad him in a suit
of my own and gave him lodging in my house. Moreover, after looking
over the accounts of my stock-in-trade and the profits of my business,
I found that industry had gained me one thousand dinars, while my
principal, the head of my wealth, amounted to two thousand. So I shared
the whole with him, saying, "Assume that thou hast made no journey
abroad but hast remained at home; and be not cast down by thine
ill-luck." He took the share in great glee and opened for himself a
shop; and matters went on quietly for a few nights and days. But
presently my second brother (yon other dog), also setting his heart
upon travel, sold off what goods and stock-in-trade he had, and albeit
we tried to stay him he would not be stayed: he laid in an outfit for
the journey, and fared forth with certain wayfarers. After an absence
of a whole year he came back to me, even as my elder brother had come
back; and when I said to him, "O my brother, did I not dissuade thee
from travel?" he shed tears and cried, "O my brother, this be destiny's
decree: here I am a mere beggar, penniless[55] and without a shirt to
my back." So I led him to the bath, O Jinni, and clothing him in new
clothes of my own wear, I went with him to my shop and served him with
meat and drink. Furthermore I said to him, "O my brother, I am wont to
cast up my shop-accounts at the head of every year, and whatso I shall
find of surplusage is between me and thee."[56] So I proceeded, O
Ifrit, to strike a balance and, finding two thousand dinars of profit,
I returned praises to the Creator (be He extolled and exalted!) and
made over one half to my brother, keeping the other to myself.
Thereupon he busied himself with opening a shop and on this wise we
abode many days. After a time my brothers began pressing me to travel
with them; but I refused, saying, "What gained ye by your voyage that I
should gain thereby?" As I would not give ear to them we went back each
to his own shop where we bought and sold as before. They kept urging me
to travel for a whole twelvemonth, but I refused to do so till full six
years were past and gone when I consented with these words, "O my
brothers, here am I, your companion of travel: now let me see what
monies you have by you." I found, however, that they had not a doit,
having squandered their substance in high diet and drinking and carnal
delights. Yet I spoke not a word of reproach; so far from it I looked
over my shop accounts once more, and sold what goods and stock-in trade
were mine; and, finding myself the owner of six thousand ducats, I
gladly proceeded to divide that sum into halves, saying to my brothers,
"These three thousand gold pieces are for me and for you to trade
withal," adding, "Let us bury the other moiety underground that it may
be of service in case any harm befal us, in which case each shall take
a thousand wherewith to open shops." Both replied, "Right is thy
recking;" and I gave to each one his thousand gold pieces, keeping the
same sum for myself, to wit, a thousand dinars. We then got ready
suitable goods and hired a ship and, having embarked our merchandise,
proceeded on our voyage, day following day, a full month, after which
we arrived at a city, where we sold our venture; and for every piece of
gold we gained ten. And as we turned again to our voyage we found on
the shore of the sea a maiden clad in worn and ragged gear, and she
kissed my hand and said, "O master, is there kindness in thee and
charity? I can make thee a fitting return for them." I answered, "Even
so; truly in me are benevolence and good works, even though thou render
me no return." Then she said, "Take me to wife, O my master, and carry
me to thy city, for I have given myself to thee; so do me a kindness
and I am of those who be meet for good works and charity: I will make
thee a fitting return for these and be thou not shamed by my
condition." When I heard her words, my heart yearned towards her, in
such sort as willed it Allah (be He extolled and exalted!); and took
her and clothed her and made ready for her a fair resting-place in the
vessel, and honourably entreated her. So we voyaged on, and my heart
became attached to her with exceeding attachment, and I was separated
from her neither night nor day, and I paid more regard to her than to
my brothers. Then they were estranged from me, and waxed jealous of my
wealth and the quantity of merchandise I had, and their eyes were
opened covetously upon all my property. So they took counsel to murder
me and seize my wealth, saying, "Let us slay our brother and all his
monies will be ours;" and Satan made this deed seem fair in their
sight; so when they found me in privacy (and I sleeping by my wife's
side) they took us both up and cast us into the sea. My wife awoke
startled from her sleep and, forthright becoming an Ifritah,[57] she
bore me up and carried me to an island and disappeared for a short
time; but she returned in the morning and said "Here am I, thy faithful
slave, who hath made thee due recompense; for I bore thee up in the
waters and saved thee from death by command of the Almighty. Know that
I am a Jinniyah, and as I saw thee my heart loved thee by will of the
Lord, for I am a believer in Allah and in His Apostle (whom Heaven
bless and preserve!). Thereupon I came to thee conditioned as thou
sawest me and thou didst marry me, and see now I have saved thee from
sinking. But I am angered against thy brothers and assuredly I must
slay them." When I heard her story I was surprised and, thanking her
for all she had done, I said, "But as to slaying my brothers this must
not be." Then I told her the tale of what had come to pass with them
from the beginning of our lives to the end, and on hearing it quoth
she, "This night will I fly as a bird over them and will sink their
ship and slay them." Quoth I, "Allah upon thee, do not thus, for the
proverb saith, O thou who doest good to him that doth evil, leave the
evil doer to his evil deeds. Moreover they are still my brothers." But
she rejoined, "By Allah, there is no help for it but I slay them." I
humbled myself before her for their pardon, whereupon she bore me up
and flew away with me till at last she set me down on the terrace-roof
of my own house. I opened the doors and took up what I had hidden in
the ground; and after I had saluted the folk I opened my shop and
bought me merchandise. Now when night came on I went home, and there I
saw these two hounds tied up; and, when they sighted me, they arose and
whined and fawned upon me; but ere I knew what happened my wife said,
"These two dogs be thy brothers!" I answered, "And who hath done this
thing by them?" and she rejoined, "I sent a message to my sister and
she entreated them on this wise, nor shall these two be released from
their present shape till ten years shall have passed." And now I have
arrived at this place on my way to my wife's sister that she may
deliver them from this condition, after their having endured it for
half a score of years. As I was wending onwards I saw this young man,
who acquainted me with what had befallen him, and I determined not to
fare hence until I should see what might occur between thee and him.
Such is my tale! Then said the Jinni, "Surely this is a strange story
and therefor I give thee the third portion of his blood and his crime."
Thereupon quoth the third Shaykh, the master of the mare-mule, to the
Jinni, "I can tell thee a tale more wondrous than these two, so thou
grant me the remainder of his blood and of his offence," and the Jinni
answered, "So be it!" Then the old man began
_THE THIRD SHAYKH'S STORY._
Know, O Sultan and head of the Jann, that this mule was my wife. Now it
so happened that I went forth and was absent one whole year; and when I
returned from my journey I came to her by night, and saw a black slave
lying with her on the carpet-bed, and they were talking, and dallying,
and laughing, and kissing and playing the close-buttock game. When she
saw me, she rose and came hurriedly at me with a gugglet[58] of water;
and, muttering spells over it, she besprinkled me and said, "Come forth
from this thy shape into the shape of a dog;" and I became on the
instant a dog. She drove me out of the house, and I ran through the
doorway nor ceased running until I came to a butcher's stall, where I
stopped and began to eat what bones were there. When the stall-owner
saw me, he took me and led me into his house, but as soon as his
daughter had sight of me she veiled her face from me, crying out, "Dost
thou bring men to me and dost thou come in with them to me?" Her father
asked, "Where is the man?"; and she answered, "This dog is a man whom
his wife hath ensorcelled and I am able to release him." When her
father heard her words, he said, "Allah upon thee, O my daughter,
release him." So she took a gugglet of water and, after uttering words
over it, sprinkled upon me a few drops, saying, "Come forth from that
form into thy former form." And I returned to my natural shape. Then I
kissed her hand and said, "I wish thou wouldest transform my wife even
as she transformed me." Thereupon she gave me some water, saying, "As
soon as thou see her asleep, sprinkle this liquid upon her and speak
what words thou heardest me utter, so shall she become whatsoever thou
desirest." I went to my wife and found her fast asleep; and, while
sprinkling the water upon her, I said, "Come forth from that form into
the form of a mare-mule." So she became on the instant a she-mule, and
she it is whom thou seest with thine eyes, O Sultan and head of the
Kings of the Jann! Then the Jinni turned towards her and said, "Is this
sooth?" And she nodded her head and replied by signs, "Indeed, 'tis the
truth: for such is my tale and this is what hath befallen me." Now when
the old man had ceased speaking the Jinni shook with pleasure and gave
him the third of the merchant's blood.——And Shahrazad perceived the
dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth Dunyazad,
"O, my sister, how pleasant is thy tale, and how tasteful; how sweet
and how grateful!" She replied, "And what is this compared with that I
could tell thee, the night to come, if I live and the King spare
me?"[59] Then thought the King, "By Allah, I will not slay her until I
hear the rest of her tale, for truly it is wondrous." So they rested
that night in mutual embrace until the dawn. After this the King went
forth to his Hall of Estate, and the Wazir and the troops came in and
the court was crowded, and the King gave orders and judged and
appointed and deposed, bidding and forbidding during the rest of the
day. Then the Divan broke up, and King Shahryar entered his palace.
Now when it was the Third Night,
And the King had had his will of the Wazir's daughter, Dunyazad, her
sister, said to her, "Finish for us that tale of thine;" and she
replied, "With joy and goodly gree! It hath reached me, O auspicious
King, that when the third old man told a tale to the Jinni more
wondrous than the two preceding, the Jinni marvelled with exceeding
marvel; and, shaking with delight, cried, "Lo! I have given thee the
remainder of the merchant's punishment and for thy sake have I released
him." Thereupon the merchant embraced the old men and thanked them, and
these Shaykhs wished him joy on being saved and fared forth each one
for his own city. Yet this tale is not more wondrous than the
fisherman's story." Asked the King, "What is the fisherman?s story?"
And she answered by relating the tale of
-----
Footnote 40:
Travellers tell of a peculiar knack of jerking the date-stone, which
makes it strike with great force: I never saw this "Inwá" practised,
but it reminds me of the water-splashing with one hand in the German
baths.
Footnote 41:
_i.e._, sorely against his will.
Footnote 42:
Arab. "Shaykh"=an old man (primarily), an elder, a chief (of the
tribe, guild, etc.); and honourably addressed to any man. Comp. among
the neo-Latins "Sieur," "Signore," "Señor," "Senhor," etc. from Lat.
"Senior," which gave our "Sire" and "Sir." Like many in Arabic the
word has a host of different meanings and most of them will occur in
the course of The Nights. Ibrahim (Abraham) was the first Shaykh or
man who became grey. Seeing his hairs whiten he cried, "O Allah what
is this?" and the answer came that it was a sign of dignified
gravity. Hereupon he exclaimed, "O Lord increase this to me!" and so
it happened till his locks waxed snowy white at the age of one
hundred and fifty. He was the first who parted his hair, trimmed his
mustachios, cleaned his teeth with the Miswák (tooth-stick), pared
his nails, shaved his pecten, snuffed up water, used ablution after
stool and wore a shirt (Tabari).
Footnote 43:
The word is mostly plural=Jinnís: it is also singular=a demon; and
Ján bin Ján has been noticed.
Footnote 44:
With us moderns "liver" suggests nothing but malady: in Arabic and
Persian as in the classic literature of Europe it is the seat of
passion, the heart being that of affection. Of this more presently.
Footnote 45:
Originally in Al-Islam the concubine (Surriyat, etc.) was a captive
taken in war and the Koran says nothing about buying slave-girls. But
if the captives were true believers the Moslem was ordered to marry
not to keep them. In modern days concubinage has become an extensive
subject. Practically the disadvantage is that the slave-girls,
knowing themselves to be the master's property, consider him bound to
sleep with them; which is by no means the mistress's view. Some
wives, however, when old and childless, insist, after the fashion of
Sarah, upon the husband taking a young concubine and treat her like a
daughter—which is rare. The Nights abound in tales of concubines, but
these are chiefly owned by the Caliphs and high officials who did
much as they pleased. The only redeeming point in the system is that
it obviated the necessity of prostitution which is, perhaps, the
greatest evil known to modern society.
Footnote 46:
Arab. "Al-Kahánah"=the craft of a "Káhin" (Heb. Cohen) a diviner,
soothsayer, etc.
Footnote 47:
Arab. "Id al-kabír"=The Great Festival; the Turkish Bayrám and Indian
Bakar-eed (Kine-fête), the pilgrimage-time, also termed "Festival of
the Kurbán" (sacrifice) because victims are slain; Al-Zuha (of Undurn
or forenoon), Al-Azhá (of serene night) and Al-Nahr (of
throat-cutting). For full details I must refer readers to my
"Personal Narrative of a Pilgrimage to El-Medinah and Meccah" (3
vols. 8vo. London, Longmans, 1855). I shall have often to refer to
it.
Footnote 48:
Arab. "Kalám al-mubáh," _i.e._, that allowed or permitted to her by
the King, her husband.
Footnote 49:
Moslem Kings are expected, like the old Guebre Monarchs, to hold
"Darbar" (_i.e._, give public audience) at least twice a day, morning
and evening. Neglect of this practice caused the ruin of the
Caliphate and of the Persian and Moghul Empires: the great lords were
left uncontrolled and the lieges revolted to obtain justice. The
Guebre Kings had two levée places, the Rozistan (day station) and the
Shabistan (night-station—istán or stán being a nominal form of
istádan, to stand, as Hindo-stán). Moreover one day in the week the
sovereign acted as "Mufti" or Supreme Judge.
Footnote 50:
Arab. "Al-Bashárah," the gift everywhere claimed in the East and in
Boccaccio's Italy by one who brings good news. Those who do the
reverse expose themselves to a sound strappado.
Footnote 51:
A euphemistic formula, to avoid mentioning unpleasant matters. I
shall note these for the benefit of students who would honestly
prepare for the public service in Moslem lands.
Footnote 52:
Arab. "Dinár," from the Latin denarius (a silver coin worth ten
ounces of brass) through the Greek δηνάριον: it is a Koranic word
(chapt. iii.) though its Arab equivalent is "Miskál." It also occurs
in the Kathá before quoted, clearly showing the derivation. In the
"Book of Kalilah and Dimnah" it is represented by the Daric or
Persian Dinár, δαρεικός, from Dárá=a King (whence Darius). The Dinar,
sequin or ducat, contained at different times from 10 and 12 (Abu
Hanifah's day) to 20 and even 25 dirhams or drachmas; and, as a
weight, represented a drachma and a half. Its value greatly varied,
but we may assume it here at nine shillings or ten francs to half a
sovereign. For an elaborate article on the Dinar see Yule's "Cathay
and the Way Thither" (ii., pp. 439-443).
Footnote 53:
The formula used in refusing alms to an "asker" or in rejecting an
insufficient offer: "Allah will open to thee!" (some door of gain—not
mine)! Another favourite ejaculation is "Allah Karim" (which Turks
pronounce "Kyereem")=Allah is All-beneficent: meaning Ask Him, not
me.
Footnote 54:
The public bath. London knows the word through "The Hummums."
Footnote 55:
Arab. "Dirham" (Plur. diráhim, also used in the sense of money,
"siller"), the Gr. δραχμή and the drachuma of Plautus (Trin. 2, 4,
23). The word occurs in the Panchatantra also showing the derivation;
and in the Syriac Kalilah wa Dimnah it is "Zúz." This silver piece
was=6 obols (9¾d.) and as a weight=66½ grains. The Dirham of The
Nights was worth six "Dánik," each of these being a fraction over a
penny. The modern Greek Drachma is=one franc.
Footnote 56:
In Arabic the speaker always puts himself first, even if he address
the King, without intending incivility.
Footnote 57:
A she-Ifrit, not necessarily an evil spirit.
Footnote 58:
Arab. "Kullah" (in Egypt pron. "gulleh"), the wide-mouthed jug,
called in the Hijaz "baradiyah;" "daurak" being the narrow. They are
used either for water or sherbet and, being made of porous clay,
"sweat," and keep the contents cool; hence all old Anglo-Egyptians
drink from them, not from bottles. Sometimes they are perfumed with
smoke of incense, mastich or Kafal (Amyris Kafal). For their graceful
shapes See Lane's "Account of the Manners and Customs of the Modern
Egyptians" (chapt. v). I quote, here and elsewhere, from the fifth
edition, London, Murray, 1860.
Footnote 59:
"And what is?" etc. A popular way of expressing great difference. So
in India:—"Where is Rajah Bhoj (the great King) and where is Gangá
the oilman?"
THE FISHERMAN AND THE JINNI.
It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that there was a Fisherman well
stricken in years who had a wife and three children, and withal was of
poor condition. Now it was his custom to cast his net every day four
times, and no more. On a day he went forth about noontide to the sea
shore, where he laid down his basket; and, tucking up his shirt and
plunging into the water, made a cast with his net and waited till it
settled to the bottom. Then he gathered the cords together and haled
away at it, but found it weighty; and however much he drew it
landwards, he could not pull it up; so he carried the ends ashore and
drove a stake into the ground and made the net fast to it. Then he
stripped and dived into the water all about the net, and left not off
working hard until he had brought it up. He rejoiced thereat and,
donning his clothes, went to the net, when he found in it a dead
jackass which had torn the meshes. Now when he saw it, he exclaimed in
his grief, "There is no Majesty, and there is no Might save in Allah
the Glorious, the Great!" Then quoth he, "This is a strange manner of
daily bread;" and he began reciting in extempore verse:—
O toiler through the glooms of night in peril and in pain ✿ Thy toiling
stint for daily bread comes not by might and main!
Seest thou not the fisher seek afloat upon the sea ✿ His bread, while
glimmer stars of night as set in tangled skein.
Anon he plungeth in despite the buffet of the waves ✿ The while to
sight the bellying net his eager glances strain;
Till joying at the night's success, a fish he bringeth home ✿ Whose
gullet by the hook of Fate was caught and cut in twain.
When buys that fish of him a man who spent the hours of night ✿
Reckless of cold and wet and gloom in ease and comfort fain,
Laud to the Lord who gives to this, to that denies his wishes ✿ And
dooms one toil and catch the prey and other eat the fishes.[60]
Then quoth he, "Up and to it; I am sure of His beneficence, Inshallah!"
So he continued:—
When thou art seized of Evil Fate, assume ✿ The noble soul's
long-suffering: 'tis thy best:
Complain not to the creature; this be 'plaint ✿ From one most Ruthful
to the ruthlessest.
The Fisherman, when he had looked at the dead ass, got it free of the
toils and wrung out and spread his net; then he plunged into the sea,
saying, "In Allah's name!" and made a cast and pulled at it, but it
grew heavy and settled down more firmly than the first time. Now he
thought that there were fish in it, and he made it fast, and doffing
his clothes went into the water, and dived and haled until he drew it
up upon dry land. Then found he in it a large earthen pitcher which was
full of sand and mud; and seeing this he was greatly troubled and began
repeating these verses[61]:—
Forbear, O troubles of the world, ✿ And pardon an ye nill forbear:
I went to seek my daily bread ✿ I find that breadless I must fare:
For neither handcraft brings me aught ✿ Nor Fate allots to me a share:
How many fools the Pleiads reach ✿ While darkness whelms the wise and
ware.
So he prayed pardon of Allah and, throwing away the jar, wrung his net
and cleansed it and returned to the sea the third time to cast his net
and waited till it had sunk. Then he pulled at it and found therein
potsherds and broken glass; whereupon he began to speak these verses:—
He is to thee that daily bread thou canst nor loose nor bind ✿ Nor pen
nor writ avail thee aught thy daily bread to find:
For joy and daily bread are what Fate deigneth to allow; ✿ This soil is
sad and sterile ground, while that makes glad the hind.
The shafts of Time and Life bear down full many a man of worth ✿ While
bearing up to high degree wights of ignoble mind.
So come thou, Death! for verily life is not worth a straw ✿ When low
the falcon falls withal the mallard wings the wind:
No wonder 'tis thou seest how the great of soul and mind ✿ Are poor,
and many a losel carle to height of luck designed.
This bird shall overfly the world from east to furthest west ✿ And that
shall win her every wish though ne'er she leave the nest.
Then raising his eyes heavenwards he said, "O my God!"[62] verily Thou
wottest that I cast not my net each day save four times;[63] the third
is done and as yet Thou hast vouchsafed me nothing. So this time, O my
God, deign give me my daily bread. Then, having called on Allah's
name,[64] he again threw his net and waited its sinking and settling;
whereupon he haled at it but could not draw it in for that it was
entangled at the bottom. He cried out in his vexation "There is no
Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah!" and he began reciting:—
Fie on this wretched world, an so it be ✿ I must be whelmed by grief
and misery:
Tho' gladsome be man's lot when dawns the morn ✿ He drains the cup of
woe ere eve he see:
Yet was I one of whom the world when asked ✿ "Whose lot is happiest?"
oft would say "'Tis he!"
[Illustration]
Thereupon he stripped and, diving down to the net, busied himself with
it till it came to land. Then he opened the meshes and found therein a
cucumber-shaped jar of yellow copper,[65] evidently full of something,
whose mouth was made fast with a leaden cap, stamped with the seal-ring
of our Lord Sulayman son of David (Allah accept the twain!). Seeing
this the Fisherman rejoiced and said, "If I sell it in the brass-bazar
'tis worth ten golden dinars." He shook it and finding it heavy
continued, "Would to Heaven I knew what is herein. But I must and will
open it and look to its contents and store it in my bag and sell it in
the brass-market." And taking out a knife he worked at the lead till he
had loosened it from the jar; then he laid the cup on the ground and
shook the vase to pour out whatever might be inside. He found nothing
in it; whereat he marvelled with an exceeding marvel. But presently
there came forth from the jar a smoke which spired heavenwards into
æther (whereat he again marvelled with mighty marvel), and which
trailed along earth's surface till presently, having reached its full
height, the thick vapour condensed, and became an Ifrit, huge of bulk,
whose crest touched the clouds while his feet were on the ground. His
head was as a dome, his hands like pitchforks, his legs long as masts
and his mouth big as a cave; his teeth were like large stones, his
nostrils ewers, his eyes two lamps and his look was fierce and
lowering. Now when the fisherman saw the Ifrit his side muscles
quivered, his teeth chattered, his spittle dried up and he became blind
about what to do. Upon this the Ifrit looked at him and cried, "There
is no god but _the_ God, and Sulayman is the prophet of God;" presently
adding, "O Apostle of Allah, slay me not; never again will I gainsay
thee in word nor sin against thee in deed."[66] Quoth the Fisherman, "O
Márid,[67] diddest thou say, Sulayman the Apostle of Allah; and
Sulayman is dead some thousand and eight hundred years ago,[68] and we
are now in the last days of the world! What is thy story, and what is
thy account of thyself, and what is the cause of thy entering into this
cucurbit?" Now when the Evil Spirit heard the words of the Fisherman,
quoth he; "There is no god but _the_ God: be of good cheer, O
Fisherman!" Quoth the Fisherman, "Why biddest thou me to be of good
cheer?" and he replied, "Because of thy having to die an ill death in
this very hour." Said the Fisherman, "Thou deservest for thy good
tidings the withdrawal of Heaven's protection, O thou distant one![69]
Wherefore shouldest thou kill me and what thing have I done to deserve
death, I who freed thee from the jar, and saved thee from the depths of
the sea, and brought thee up on the dry land?" Replied the Ifrit, "Ask
of me only what mode of death thou wilt die, and by what manner of
slaughter shall I slay thee." Rejoined the Fisherman, "What is my crime
and wherefore such retribution?"
Quoth the Ifrit, "Hear my story, O Fisherman!" and he answered, "Say
on, and be brief in thy saying, for of very sooth my life-breath is in
my nostrils."[70] Thereupon quoth the Jinni, "Know, that I am one among
the heretical Jann and I sinned against Sulayman, David-son (on the
twain be peace!) I together with the famous Sakhr al-Jinni;[71]
whereupon the Prophet sent his minister, Asaf son of Barkhiyá, to seize
me; and this Wazir brought me against my will and led me in bonds to
him (I being downcast despite my nose) and he placed me standing before
him like a suppliant. When Sulayman saw me, he took refuge with Allah
and bade me embrace the True Faith and obey his behests; but I refused,
so sending for this cucurbit[72] he shut me up therein, and stopped it
over with lead whereon he impressed the Most High Name, and gave his
orders to the Jann who carried me off, and cast me into the midmost of
the ocean. There I abode an hundred years, during which I said in my
heart, "Whoso shall release me, him will I enrich for ever and ever."
But the full century went by and, when no one set me free, I entered
upon the second five score saying, "Whoso shall release me, for him I
will open the hoards of the earth." Still no one set me free and thus
four hundred years passed away. Then quoth I, "Whoso shall release me,
for him will I fulfil three wishes." Yet no one set me free. Thereupon
I waxed wroth with exceeding wrath and said to myself, "Whoso shall
release me from this time forth, him will I slay and I will give him
choice of what death he will die; and now, as thou hast released me, I
give thee full choice of deaths." The Fisherman, hearing the words of
the Ifrit, said, "O Allah! the wonder of it that I have not come to
free thee save in these days!" adding, "Spare my life, so Allah spare
thine; and slay me not, lest Allah set one to slay thee." Replied the
Contumacious One, "There is no help for it; die thou must; so ask me by
way of boon what manner of death thou wilt die." Albeit thus certified
the Fisherman again addressed the Ifrit saying, "Forgive me this my
death as a generous reward for having freed thee;" and the Ifrit,
"Surely I would not slay thee save on account of that same release." "O
Chief of the Ifrits," said the Fisherman, "I do thee good and thou
requitest me with evil! in very sooth the old saw lieth not when it
saith:—
We wrought them weal, they met our weal with ill; ✿ Such, by my life!
is every bad man's labour:
To him who benefits unworthy wights ✿ Shall hap what hapt to
Ummi-Amir's neighbour.[73]
Now when the Ifrit heard these words he answered, "No more of this
talk, needs must I kill thee." Upon this the Fisherman said to himself,
"This is a Jinni; and I am a man to whom Allah hath given a passably
cunning wit, so I will now cast about to compass his destruction by my
contrivance and by mine intelligence; even as he took counsel only of
his malice and his frowardness."[74] He began by asking the Ifrit,
"Hast thou indeed resolved to kill me?" and, receiving for all answer,
"Even so," he cried, "Now in the Most Great Name, graven on the
seal-ring of Sulayman the Son of David (peace be with the holy twain!),
an I question thee on a certain matter wilt thou give me a true
answer?" The Ifrit replied "Yea;" but, hearing mention of the Most
Great Name, his wits were troubled and he said with trembling, "Ask and
be brief." Quoth the Fisherman, "How didst thou fit into this bottle
which would not hold thy hand; no, nor even thy foot, and how came it
to be large enough to contain the whole of thee?" Replied the Ifrit,
"What! dost not believe that I was all there?" and the Fisherman
rejoined, "Nay! I will never believe it until I see thee inside with my
own eyes."—And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say
her permitted say.
Now when it was the Fourth Night,
Her sister said to her, "Please finish us this tale, an thou be not
sleepy!" so she resumed:—It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that
when the Fisherman said to the Ifrit, "I will never and nowise believe
thee until I see thee inside it with mine own eyes;" the Evil Spirit on
the instant shook[75] and became a vapour, which condensed, and entered
the jar little and little, till all was well inside when lo! the
Fisherman in hot haste took the leaden cap with the seal and stoppered
therewith the mouth of the jar and called out to the Ifrit, saying,
"Ask me by way of boon what death thou wilt die! By Allah, I will throw
thee into the sea[76] before us and here will I build me a lodge; and
whoso cometh hither I will warn him against fishing and will say:—In
these waters abideth an Ifrit who giveth as a last favour a choice of
deaths and fashion of slaughter to the man who saveth him!" Now when
the Ifrit heard this from the Fisherman and saw himself in limbo, he
was minded to escape, but this was prevented by Solomon's seal; so he
knew that the Fisherman had cozened and outwitted him, and he waxed
lowly and submissive and began humbly to say, "I did but jest with
thee." But the other answered, "Thou liest, O vilest of the Ifrits, and
meanest and filthiest!" and he set off with the bottle for the sea
side; the Ifrit calling out "Nay! Nay!" and he calling out "Aye! Aye!"
Thereupon the Evil Spirit softened his voice and smoothed his speech
and abased himself, saying, "What wouldest thou do with me, O
Fisherman?" "I will throw thee back into the sea," he answered; "where
thou hast been housed and homed for a thousand and eight hundred years;
and now I will leave thee therein till Judgment-day: did I not say to
thee:—Spare me and Allah shall spare thee; and slay me not lest Allah
slay thee? yet thou spurnedst my supplication and hadst no intention
save to deal ungraciously by me, and Allah hath now thrown thee into my
hands and I am cunninger than thou." Quoth the Ifrit, "Open for me that
I may bring thee weal." Quoth the Fisherman, "Thou liest, thou
accursed! my case with thee is that of the Wazir of King Yúnán with the
sage Dúbán."[77] "And who was the Wazir of King Yunan and who was the
sage Duban; and what was the story about them?" quoth the Ifrit,
whereupon the Fisherman began to tell
_THE TALE OF THE WAZIR AND THE SAGE DUBAN._
"Know, O thou Ifrit, that in days of yore and in ages long gone before,
a King called Yunan reigned over the city of Fars of the land of the
Roum."[78] He was a powerful ruler and a wealthy, who had armies and
guards and allies of all nations of men; but his body was afflicted
with a leprosy which leaches and men of science failed to heal. He
drank potions and he swallowed powders and he used unguents, but naught
did him good and none among the host of physicians availed to procure
him a cure. At last there came to his city a mighty healer of men and
one well stricken in years, the sage Duban hight. This man was a reader
of books, Greek, Persian, Roman, Arabian, and Syrian; and he was
skilled in astronomy and in leechcraft, the theorick as well as the
practick; he was experienced in all that healeth and that hurteth the
body; conversant with the virtues of every plant, grass and herb, and
their benefit and bane; and he understood philosophy and had compassed
the whole range of medical science and other branches of the
knowledge-tree. Now this physician passed but few days in the city, ere
he heard of the King's malady and all his bodily sufferings through the
leprosy with which Allah had smitten him; and how all the doctors and
wise men had failed to heal him. Upon this he sat up through the night
in deep thought and, when broke the dawn and appeared the morn and
light was again born, and the Sun greeted the Good whose beauties the
world adorn,[79] he donned his handsomest dress and going in to King
Yunan, he kissed the ground before him: then he prayed for the
endurance of his honour and prosperity in fairest language and made
himself known saying, "O King, tidings have reached me of what befel
thee through that which is in thy person; and how the host of
physicians have proved themselves unavailing to abate it; and lo! I can
cure thee, O King; and yet will I not make thee drink of draught or
anoint thee with ointment." Now when King Yunan heard his words he said
in huge surprise, "How wilt thou do this? By Allah, if thou make me
whole I will enrich thee even to thy son's son and I will give thee
sumptuous gifts; and whatso thou wishest shall be thine and thou shalt
be to me a cup-companion[80] and a friend." The King then robed him
with a dress of honour and entreated him graciously and asked him,
"Canst thou indeed cure me of this complaint without drug and unguent?"
and he answered, "Yes! I will heal thee without the pains and penalties
of medicine." The King marvelled with exceeding marvel and said, "O
physician, when shall be this whereof thou speakest, and in how many
days shall it take place? Haste thee, O my son!" He replied, "I hear
and I obey; the cure shall begin to-morrow." So saying he went forth
from the presence, and hired himself a house in the city for the better
storage of his books and scrolls, his medicines and his aromatic roots.
Then he set to work at choosing the fittest drugs and simples and he
fashioned a bat hollow within, and furnished with a handle without, for
which he made a ball; the two being prepared with consummate art. On
the next day when both were ready for use and wanted nothing more, he
went up to the King; and, kissing the ground between his hands bade him
ride forth on the parade ground[81] there to play at pall and mall. He
was accompanied by his suite, Emirs and Chamberlains, Wazirs and Lords
of the realm and, ere he was seated, the sage Duban came up to him, and
handing him the bat said, "Take this mall and grip it as I do; so! and
now push for the plain and leaning well over thy horse drive the ball
with all thy might until thy palm be moist and thy body perspire: then
the medicine will penetrate through thy palm and will permeate thy
person. When thou hast done with playing and thou feelest the effects
of the medicine, return to thy palace, and make the Ghusl-ablution[82]
in the Hammam-bath, and lay thee down to sleep; so shalt thou become
whole; and now peace be with thee!" Thereupon King Yunan took the bat
from the Sage and grasped it firmly; then, mounting steed, he drove the
ball before him and gallopped after it till he reached it, when he
struck it with all his might, his palm gripping the bat handle the
while; and he ceased not malling the ball till his hand waxed moist and
his skin, perspiring, imbibed the medicine from the wood. Then the sage
Duban knew that the drugs had penetrated his person and bade him return
to the palace and enter the Hammam without stay or delay; so King Yunan
forthright returned and ordered them to clear for him the bath. They
did so, the carpet spreaders making all haste, and the slaves all hurry
and got ready a change of raiment for the King. He entered the bath and
made the total ablution long and thoroughly; then donned his clothes
within the Hammam and rode therefrom to his palace where he lay him
down and slept. Such was the case with King Yunan, but as regards the
sage Duban, he returned home and slept as usual and when morning dawned
he repaired to the palace and craved audience. The King ordered him to
be admitted; then, having kissed the ground between his hands, in
allusion to the King he recited these couplets with solemn intonation:—
Happy is Eloquence when thou art named her sire ✿ But mourns she whenas
other man the title claimed.
O Lord of fairest presence, whose illuming rays ✿ Clear off the fogs of
doubt aye veiling deeds high famed,
Ne'er cease thy face to shine like Dawn and rise of Morn ✿ And never
show Time's face with heat of ire inflamed!
Thy grace hath favoured us with gifts that worked such wise ✿ As
rain-clouds raining on the hills by wolds enframed:
Freely thou lavishedst thy wealth to rise on high ✿ Till won from Time
the heights whereat thy grandeur aimed.
[Illustration]
Now when the Sage ceased reciting, the King rose quickly to his feet
and fell on his neck; then, seating him by his side he bade dress him
in a sumptuous dress; for it had so happened that when the King left
the Hammam he looked on his body and saw no trace of leprosy: the skin
was all clean as virgin silver. He joyed thereat with exceeding joy,
his breast broadened[83] with delight and he felt thoroughly happy.
Presently, when it was full day he entered his audience-hall and sat
upon the throne of his kingship whereupon his Chamberlains and Grandees
flocked to the presence and with them the sage Duban. Seeing the leach
the King rose to him in honour and seated him by his side; then the
food trays furnished with the daintiest viands were brought and the
physician ate with the King, nor did he cease companying him all that
day. Moreover, at nightfall he gave the physician Duban two thousand
gold pieces, besides the usual dress of honour and other gifts galore,
and sent him home on his own steed. After the Sage had fared forth King
Yunan again expressed his amazement at the leach's art, saying, "This
man medicined my body from without nor anointed me with aught of
ointments: by Allah, surely this is none other than consummate skill! I
am bound to honour such a man with rewards and distinction, and take
him to my companion and my friend during the remainder of my days." So
King Yunan passed the night in joy and gladness for that his body had
been made whole and had thrown off so pernicious a malady. On the
morrow the King went forth from his Serraglio and sat upon his throne,
and the Lords of Estate stood about him, and the Emirs and Wazirs sat
as was their wont on his right hand and on his left. Then he asked for
the Sage Duban, who came in and kissed the ground before him, when the
King rose to greet him and, seating him by his side, ate with him and
wished him long life. Moreover he robed him and gave him gifts, and
ceased not conversing with him until night approached. Then the King
ordered him, by way of salary, five dresses of honour and a thousand
dinars.[84] The physician returned to his own house full of gratitude
to the King. Now when next morning dawned the King repaired to his
audience-hall, and his Lords and nobles surrounded him and his
Chamberlains and his Ministers, as the white encloseth the black of the
eye.[85] Now the King had a Wazir among his Wazirs, unsightly to look
upon, an ill-omened spectacle; sordid, ungenerous, full of envy and
evil will. When this Minister saw the King place the physician near him
and give him all these gifts, he jaloused him and planned to do him a
harm, as in the saying on such subject, "Envy lurks in every body;" and
the saying, "Oppression hideth in every heart: power revealeth it and
weakness concealeth it." Then the Minister came before the King and,
kissing the ground between his hands, said, "O King of the age and of
all time, thou in whose benefits I have grown to manhood, I have
weighty advice to offer thee, and if I withhold it I were a son of
adultery and no true-born man; wherefore an thou order me to disclose
it I will so do forthwith." Quoth the King (and he was troubled at the
words of the Minister), "And what is this counsel of thine?" Quoth he,
"O glorious monarch, the wise of old have said:—Whoso regardeth not the
end, hath not Fortune to friend; and indeed I have lately seen the King
on far other than the right way; for he lavisheth largesse on his
enemy, on one whose object is the decline and fall of his kingship: to
this man he hath shown favour, honouring him with over honour and
making of him an intimate. Wherefore I fear for the King's life." The
King, who was much troubled and changed colour, asked, "Whom dost thou
suspect and anent whom doest thou hint?" and the Minister answered, "O
King, an thou be asleep, wake up! I point to the physician Duban."
Rejoined the King, "Fie upon thee! This is a true friend who is
favoured by me above all men, because he cured me with something which
I held in my hand, and he healed my leprosy which had baffled all
physicians; indeed he is one whose like may not be found in these
days—no, not in the whole world from furthest east to utmost west! And
it is of such a man thou sayest such hard sayings. Now from this day
forward I allot him a settled solde and allowances, every month a
thousand gold pieces; and, were I to share with him my realm 'twere but
a little matter. Perforce I must suspect that thou speakest on this
wise from mere envy and jealousy as they relate of the King
Sindibad."——And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day, and ceased saying
her permitted say.
Then quoth Dunyazad, "O my sister, how pleasant is thy tale, and how
tasteful, how sweet, and how grateful!" She replied, "And where is this
compared with what I could tell thee on the coming night if the King
deign spare my life?" Then said the King in himself, "By Allah, I will
not slay her until I hear the rest of her tale, for truly it is
wondrous." So they rested that night in mutual embrace until the dawn.
Then the King went forth to his Hall of Rule, and the Wazir and the
troops came in, and the audience-chamber was thronged; and the King
gave orders and judged and appointed and deposed and bade and forbade
during the rest of that day till the Court broke up, and King Shahryar
returned to his palace.
Now when it was the Fifth Night,
Her sister said, "Do finish for us thy story if thou be not sleepy,"
and she resumed:—It hath reached me, O auspicious King and mighty
Monarch, that King Yunan said to his Minister, "O Wazir, thou art one
whom the evil spirit of envy hath possessed because of this physician,
and thou plottest for my putting him to death, after which I should
repent me full sorely, even as repented King Sindibad for killing his
falcon." Quoth the Wazir, "Pardon me, O King of the age, how was that?"
So the King began the story of
_KING SINDIBAD AND HIS FALCON._
It is said (but Allah is All-knowing![86]) that there was a King of the
Kings of Fars, who was fond of pleasuring and diversion, especially
coursing and hunting. He had reared a falcon which he carried all night
on his fist, and whenever he went a-chasing he took with him this bird;
and he bade make for her a golden cup-let hung round her neck to give
her drink therefrom. One day as the King was sitting quietly in his
palace, behold, the high falconer of the household suddenly addressed
him, "O King of the age, this is indeed a day fit for birding." The
King gave orders accordingly and set out taking the hawk on fist; and
they fared merrily forwards till they made a Wady[87] where they
planted a circle of nets for the chase; when lo! a gazelle came within
the toils and the King cried, "Whoso alloweth yon gazelle to spring
over his head and loseth her, that man will I surely slay." They
narrowed the nets about the gazelle when she drew near the King's
station; and, planting herself on her hind quarter, crossed her
forehand over her breast, as if about to kiss the earth before the
King. He bowed his brow low in acknowledgment to the beast; when she
bounded high over his head and took the way of the waste. Thereupon the
King turned towards his troops and, seeing them winking and pointing at
him, he asked, "O Wazir, what are my men saying?" and the Minister
answered, "They say thou didst proclaim that whoso alloweth the gazelle
to spring over his head, that man shall be put to death." Quoth the
King, "Now, by the life of my head! I will follow her up till I bring
her back." So he set off gallopping on the gazelle's trail and gave not
over tracking till he reached the foot-hills of a mountain-chain where
the quarry made for a cave. Then the King cast off at it the falcon
which presently caught it up and, swooping down, drove her talons into
its eyes, bewildering and blinding it;[88] and the King drew his mace
and struck a blow which rolled the game over. He then dismounted; and,
after cutting the antelope's throat and flaying the body, hung it to
the pommel of his saddle. Now the time was that of the siesta[89] and
the wold was parched and dry, nor was any water to be found anywhere;
and the King thirsted and his horse also; so he went about searching
till he saw a tree dropping water, as it were melted butter, from its
boughs. Thereupon the King who wore gauntlets of skin to guard him
against poisons took the cup from the hawk's neck, and filling it with
the water set it before the bird, and lo! the falcon struck it with her
pounces and upset the liquid. The King filled it a second time with the
dripping drops, thinking his hawk was thirsty; but the bird again
struck at the cup with her talons and overturned it. Then the King
waxed wroth with the hawk and filling the cup a third time offered it
to his horse: but the hawk upset it with a flirt of wings. Quoth the
King, "Allah confound thee, thou unluckiest of flying things! thou
keepest me from drinking, and thou deprivest thyself also, and the
horse." So he struck the falcon with his sword and cut off her wing;
but the bird raised her head and said by signs, "Look at that which
hangeth on the tree!" The King lifted up his eyes accordingly and
caught sight of a brood of vipers, whose poison-drops he mistook for
water; thereupon he repented him of having struck off his falcon's
wing, and mounting horse, fared on with the dead gazelle, till he
arrived at the camp, his starting place. He threw the quarry to the
cook saying, "Take and broil it," and sat down on his chair, the falcon
being still on his fist when suddenly the bird gasped and died;
whereupon the King cried out in sorrow and remorse for having slain
that falcon which had saved his life. Now this is what occurred in the
case of King Sindibad; and I am assured that were I to do as thou
desirest I should repent even as the man who killed his parrot. Quoth
the Wazir, "And how was that?" And the King began to tell
_THE TALE OF THE HUSBAND AND THE PARROT._[90]
A certain man and a merchant to boot had married a fair wife, a woman
of perfect beauty and grace, symmetry and loveliness, of whom he was
mad-jealous, and who contrived successfully to keep him from travel. At
last an occasion compelling him to leave her, he went to the
bird-market and bought him for one hundred gold pieces a she-parrot
which he set in his house to act as duenna, expecting her to acquaint
him on his return with what had passed during the whole time of his
absence; for the bird was kenning and cunning and never forgot what she
had seen and heard. Now his fair wife had fallen in love with a young
Turk,[91] who used to visit her, and she feasted him by day and lay
with him by night. When the man had made his journey and won his wish
he came home; and, at once causing the Parrot be brought to him,
questioned her concerning the conduct of his consort whilst he was in
foreign parts. Quoth she, "Thy wife hath a man-friend who passed every
night with her during thine absence." Thereupon the husband went to his
wife in a violent rage and bashed her with a bashing severe enough to
satisfy any body. The woman, suspecting that one of the slave-girls had
been tattling to the master, called them together and questioned them
upon their oaths, when all swore that they had kept the secret, but
that the Parrot had not, adding, "And we heard her with our own ears."
Upon this the woman bade one of the girls to set a hand-mill under the
cage and grind therewith and a second to sprinkle water through the
cage-roof and a third to run about, right and left, flashing a mirror
of bright steel through the livelong night. Next morning when the
husband returned home after being entertained by one of his friends, he
bade bring the Parrot before him and asked what had taken place whilst
he was away. "Pardon me, O my master," quoth the bird, "I could neither
hear nor see aught by reason of the exceeding murk and the thunder and
lightning which lasted throughout the night." As it happened to be the
summer-tide the master was astounded and cried, "But we are now in mid
Tammúz,[92] and this is not the time for rains and storms." "Ay, by
Allah," rejoined the bird, "I saw with these eyes what my tongue hath
told thee." Upon this the man, not knowing the case nor smoking the
plot, waxed exceeding wroth; and, holding that his wife had been
wrongously accused, put forth his hand and pulling the Parrot from her
cage dashed her upon the ground with such force that he killed her on
the spot. Some days afterwards one of his slave-girls confessed to him
the whole truth,[93] yet would he not believe it till he saw the young
Turk, his wife's lover, coming out of her chamber, when he bared his
blade[94] and slew him by a blow on the back of the neck; and he did
the same by the adulteress; and thus the twain, laden with mortal sin,
went straightways to Eternal Fire. Then the merchant knew that the
Parrot had told him the truth anent all she had seen and he mourned
grievously for her loss, when mourning availed him not. The Minister,
hearing the words of King Yunan, rejoined, "O Monarch, high in dignity,
and what harm have I done him, or what evil have I seen from him that I
should compass his death? I would not do this thing, save to serve
thee, and soon shalt thou sight that it is right; and if thou accept my
advice thou shalt be saved, otherwise thou shalt be destroyed even as a
certain Wazir who acted treacherously by the young Prince." Asked the
King, "How was that?" and the Minister thus began
_THE TALE OF THE PRINCE AND THE OGRESS._
A certain King, who had a son over much given to hunting and coursing,
ordered one of his Wazirs to be in attendance upon him whithersoever he
might wend. One day the youth set out for the chase accompanied by his
father's Minister; and, as they jogged on together, a big wild beast
came in sight. Cried the Wazir to the King's son, "Up and at yon noble
quarry!" So the Prince followed it until he was lost to every eye and
the chase got away from him in the waste; whereby he was confused and
he knew not which way to turn, when lo! a damsel appeared ahead and she
was in tears. The King's son asked, "Who art thou?" and she answered,
"I am daughter to a King among the Kings of Hind, and I was travelling
with a caravan in the desert when drowsiness overcame me, and I fell
from my beast unwittingly; whereby I am cut off from my people and sore
bewildered." The Prince, hearing these words, pitied her case and,
mounting her on his horse's crupper, travelled until he passed by an
old ruin,[95] when the damsel said to him, "O my master, I wish to obey
a call of nature": he therefore set her down at the ruin where she
delayed so long that the King's son thought that she was only wasting
time; so he followed her without her knowledge and behold, she was a
Ghúlah,[96] a wicked Ogress, who was saying to her brood, "O my
children, this day I bring you a fine fat youth[97] for dinner;"
whereto they answered, "Bring him quick to us, O our mother, that we
may browse upon him our bellies full." The Prince hearing their talk,
made sure of death and his side-muscles quivered in fear for his life,
so he turned away and was about to fly. The Ghulah came out and seeing
him in sore affright (for he was trembling in every limb) cried,
"Wherefore art thou afraid?" and he replied, "I have hit upon an enemy
whom I greatly fear." Asked the Ghulah, "Diddest thou not say:—I am a
King's son?" and he answered, "Even so." Then quoth she, "Why dost not
give thine enemy something of money and so satisfy him?" Quoth he, "He
will not be satisfied with my purse but only with my life, and I
mortally fear him and am a man under oppression." She replied, "If thou
be so distressed, as thou deemest, ask aid against him from Allah, who
will surely protect thee from his ill-doing and from the evil whereof
thou art afraid." Then the Prince raised his eyes heavenwards and
cried, "O Thou who answerest the necessitous when he calleth upon Thee
and dispellest his distress; O my God! grant me victory over my foe and
turn him from me, for Thou over all things art Almighty." The Ghulah,
hearing his prayer, turned away from him, and the Prince returned to
his father, and told him the tale of the Wazir; whereupon the King
summoned the Minister to his presence and then and there slew him.
"Thou likewise, O King, if thou continue to trust this leach, shalt be
made to die the worst of deaths. He verily thou madest much of and whom
thou entreatedest as an intimate, will work thy destruction. Seest thou
not how he healed the disease from outside thy body by something
grasped in thy hand? Be not assured that he will not destroy thee by
something held in like manner!" Replied King Yunan, "Thou hast spoken
sooth, O Wazir, it may well be as thou hintest O my well-advising
Minister; and belike this Sage hath come as a spy searching to put me
to death; for assuredly if he cured me by a something held in my hand,
he can kill me by a something given me to smell." Then asked King
Yunan, "O Minister, what must be done with him?" and the Wazir
answered, "Send after him this very instant and summon him to thy
presence; and when he shall come strike him across the neck; and thus
shalt thou rid thyself of him and his wickedness, and deceive him ere
he can deceive thee." "Thou hast again spoken sooth, O Wazir," said the
King and sent one to call the Sage who came in joyful mood for he knew
not what had appointed for him the Compassionate; as a certain poet
saith by way of illustration:—
O Thou who fearest Fate, confiding fare, ✿ Trust all to Him who built
the world, and wait:
What Fate saith "Be" perforce must be, my lord! ✿ And safe art thou
from th' undecreed of Fate.
As Duban the physician entered he addressed the King in these lines:—
An fail I of my thanks to thee nor thank thee day by day ✿ For whom
composed I prose and verse, for whom my say and lay?
Thou lavishedst thy generous gifts ere they were craved by me ✿ Thou
lavishedst thy boons unsought sans pretext or delay
How shall I stint my praise of thee, how shall I cease to laud ✿ The
grace of thee in secresy and patentest display?
Nay; I will thank thy benefits, for aye thy favours lie ✿ Light on my
thought and tongue, though heavy on my back they weigh.
And he said further on the same theme:—
Turn thee from grief nor care a jot! ✿ Commit thy needs to Fate and
Lot!
Enjoy the Present passing well ✿ And let the Past be clean forgot;
For whatso haply seemeth worse ✿ Shall work thy weal as Allah wot:
Allah shall do whate'er He wills ✿ And in His will oppose Him not.
And further still:—
To th' All-wise Subtle One trust worldly things ✿ Rest thee from all
whereto the worldling clings:
Learn wisely well naught cometh by thy will ✿ But e'en as willeth
Allah, King of Kings.
And lastly:—
Gladsome and gay forget thine every grief ✿ Full often grief the wisest
hearts outwore:
Thought is but folly in the feeble slave ✿ Shun it and so be savèd
evermore.
Said the King for sole return, "Knowest thou why I have summoned thee?"
and the Sage replied, "Allah Most Highest alone kenneth hidden things!"
But the King rejoined, "I summoned thee only to take thy life and
utterly to destroy thee." Duban the Wise wondered at this strange
address with exceeding wonder and asked, "O King, and wherefore
wouldest thou slay me, and what ill have I done thee?" and the King
answered, "Men tell me thou art a spy sent hither with intent to slay
me; and lo! I will kill thee ere I be killed by thee;" then he called
to his Sworder, and said, "Strike me off the head of this traitor and
deliver us from his evil practices." Quoth the Sage, "Spare me and
Allah will spare thee; slay me not or Allah shall slay thee." And he
repeated to him these very words, even as I to thee, O Ifrit, and yet
thou wouldst not let me go, being bent upon my death. King Yunan only
rejoined, "I shall not be safe without slaying thee; for, as thou
healedst me by something held in hand, so am I not secure against thy
killing me by something given me to smell or otherwise." Said the
physician, "This then, O King, is thy requital and reward; thou
returnest only evil for good." The King replied, "There is no help for
it; die thou must and without delay." Now when the physician was
certified that the King would slay him without waiting, he wept and
regretted the good he had done to other than the good. As one hath said
on this subject:—
Of wit and wisdom is Maymúnah[98] bare ✿ Whose sire in wisdom all the
wits outstrippeth:
Man may not tread on mud or dust or clay ✿ Save by good sense, else
trippeth he and slippeth.
Hereupon the Sworder stepped forward and bound the Sage Duban's eyes
and bared his blade, saying to the King, "By thy leave;" while the
physician wept and cried, "Spare me and Allah will spare thee, and slay
me not or Allah shall slay thee," and began repeating:—
I was kind and 'scapèd not, they were cruel and escaped; ✿ And my
kindness only led me to Ruination Hall;
If I live I'll ne'er be kind; if I die, then all be damned ✿ Who follow
me, and curses their kindliness befal.
"Is this," continued Duban, "the return I meet from thee? Thou givest
me, meseems, but crocodile-boon." Quoth the King, "What is the tale of
the crocodile?", and quoth the physician, "Impossible for me to tell it
in this my state; Allah upon thee, spare me, as thou hopest Allah shall
spare thee." And he wept with exceeding weeping. Then one of the King's
favourites stood up and said, "O King! grant me the blood of this
physician; we have never seen him sin against thee, or doing aught save
healing thee from a disease which baffled every leach and man of
science." Said the King, "Ye wot not the cause of my putting to death
this physician, and this it is. If I spare him, I doom myself to
certain death; for one who healed me of such a malady by something held
in my hand, surely can slay me by something held to my nose; and I fear
lest he kill me for a price, since haply he is some spy whose sole
purpose in coming hither was to compass my destruction. So there is no
help for it; die he must, and then only shall I be sure of my own
life." Again cried Duban, "Spare me and Allah shall spare thee; and
slay me not or Allah shall slay thee." But it was in vain. Now when the
physician, O Ifrit, knew for certain that the King would kill him, he
said, "O King, if there be no help but I must die, grant me some little
delay that I may go down to my house and release myself from mine
obligations and direct my folk and my neighbours where to bury me and
distribute my books of medicine. Amongst these I have one, the rarest
of rarities, which I would present to thee as an offering: keep it as a
treasure in thy treasury." "And what is in the book?" asked the King
and the Sage answered, "Things beyond compt; and the least of secrets
is that if, directly after thou hast cut off my head, thou open three
leaves and read three lines of the page to thy left hand, my head shall
speak and answer every question thou deignest ask of it." The King
wondered with exceeding wonder and shaking[99] with delight at the
novelty, said, "O physician, dost thou really tell me that when I cut
off thy head it will speak to me?" He replied, "Yes, O King!" Quoth the
King, "This is indeed a strange matter!" and forthwith sent him closely
guarded to his house, and Duban then and there settled all his
obligations. Next day he went up to the King's audience hall, where
Emirs and Wazirs, Chamberlains and Nabobs, Grandees and Lords of Estate
were gathered together, making the presence-chamber gay as a garden of
flower-beds. And lo! the physician came up and stood before the King,
bearing a worn old volume and a little étui of metal full of powder,
like that used for the eyes.[100] Then he sat down and said, "Give me a
tray." So they brought him one and he poured the powder upon it and
levelled it and lastly spake as follows: "O King, take this book but do
not open it till my head falls; then set it upon this tray, and bid
press it down upon the powder, when forthright the blood will cease
flowing. That is the time to open the book." The King thereupon took
the book and made a sign to the Sworder, who arose and struck off the
physician's head, and placing it on the middle of the tray, pressed it
down upon the powder. The blood stopped flowing, and the Sage Duban
unclosed his eyes and said, "Now open the book, O King!" The King
opened the book, and found the leaves stuck together; so he put his
finger to his mouth and, by moistening it, he easily turned over the
first leaf, and in like way the second, and the third, each leaf
opening with much trouble; and when he had unstuck six leaves he looked
over them and, finding nothing written thereon, said, "O physician,
there is no writing here!" Duban replied, "Turn over yet more;" and he
turned over three others in the same way. Now the book was poisoned;
and before long the venom penetrated his system, and he fell into
strong convulsions and he cried out, "The poison hath done its work!"
Whereupon the Sage Duban's head began to improvise:—
There be rulers who have ruled with a foul tyrannic sway ✿ But they
soon became as though they had never, never been:
Just, they had won justice: they oppressed and were opprest ✿ By
Fortune, who requited them with ban and bane and teen:
So they faded like the morn, and the tongue of things repeats ✿ "Take
this for that, nor vent upon Fortune's ways thy spleen."
No sooner had the head ceased speaking than the King rolled over dead.
Now I would have thee know, O Ifrit, that if King Yunan had spared the
Sage Duban, Allah would have spared him; but he refused so to do and
decreed to do him dead, wherefore Allah slew him; and thou too, O
Ifrit, if thou hadst spared me, Allah would have spared thee.——And
Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted
say: then quoth Dunyazad, "O my sister, how pleasant is thy tale and
how tasteful; how sweet, and how grateful!" She replied, "And where is
this compared with what I could tell thee this coming night, if I live
and the King spare me?" Said the King in himself, "By Allah, I will not
slay her until I hear the rest of her story, for truly it is wondrous."
They rested that night in mutual embrace until dawn: then the King went
forth to his Darbar; the Wazirs and troops came in and the
audience-hall was crowded; so the King gave orders and judged and
appointed and deposed and bade and forbade the rest of that day, when
the court broke up, and King Shahryar entered his palace.
Now when it was the Sixth Night,
Her sister, Dunyazad, said to her. "Pray finish for us thy story;" and
she answered, "I will if the King give me leave." "Say on," quoth the
King. And she continued:—It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that
when the Fisherman said to the Ifrit, "If thou hadst spared me I would
have spared thee, but nothing would satisfy thee save my death; so now
I will do thee die by jailing thee in this jar, and I will hurl thee
into this sea." Then the Marid roared aloud and cried, "Allah upon
thee, O Fisherman don't! Spare me, and pardon my past doings; and, as I
have been tyrannous, so be thou generous, for it is said among sayings
that go current:—O thou who doest good to him who hath done thee evil,
suffice for the ill-doer his ill-deeds, and do not deal with me as did
Umamah to 'Atikah."[101] Asked the Fisherman, "And what was their
case?" and the Ifrit answered, "This is not the time for story-telling
and I in this prison; but set me free and I will tell thee the tale."
Quoth the Fisherman, "Leave this language: there is no help but that
thou be thrown back into the sea nor is there any way for thy getting
out of it for ever and ever. Vainly I placed myself under thy
protection,[102] and I humbled myself to thee with weeping, while thou
soughtest only to slay me, who had done thee no injury deserving this
at thy hands; nay, so far from injuring thee by any evil act, I worked
thee nought but weal in releasing thee from that jail of thine. Now I
knew thee to be an evil-doer when thou diddest to me what thou didst,
and know, that when I have cast thee back into this sea, I will warn
whomsoever may fish thee up of what hath befallen me with thee, and I
will advise him to toss thee back again; so shalt thou abide here under
these waters till the End of Time shall make an end of thee." But the
Ifrit cried aloud, "Set me free; this is a noble occasion for
generosity and I make covenant with thee and vow never to do thee hurt
and harm; nay, I will help thee to what shall put thee out of want."
The Fisherman accepted his promises on both conditions, not to trouble
him as before, but on the contrary to do him service; and, after making
firm the plight and swearing him a solemn oath by Allah Most Highest he
opened the cucurbit. Thereupon the pillar of smoke rose up till all of
it was fully out; then it thickened and once more became an Ifrit of
hideous presence, who forthright administered a kick to the bottle and
sent it flying into the sea. The Fisherman, seeing how the cucurbit was
treated and making sure of his own death, piddled in his clothes and
said to himself, "This promiseth badly;" but he fortified his heart,
and cried, "O Ifrit, Allah hath said"[103]:—Perform your covenant; for
the performance of your covenant shall be inquired into hereafter. Thou
hast made a vow to me and hast sworn an oath not to play me false lest
Allah play thee false, for verily he is a jealous God who respiteth the
sinner, but letteth him not escape. I say to thee as said the Sage
Duban to King Yunan, "Spare me so Allah may spare thee!" The Ifrit
burst into laughter and stalked away, saying to the Fisherman, "Follow
me;" and the man paced after him at a safe distance (for he was not
assured of escape) till they had passed round the suburbs of the city.
Thence they struck into the uncultivated grounds, and crossing them
descended into a broad wilderness, and lo! in the midst of it stood a
mountain-tarn. The Ifrit waded in to the middle and again cried,
"Follow me;" and when this was done he took his stand in the centre and
bade the man cast his net and catch his fish. The Fisherman looked into
the water and was much astonished to see therein vari-coloured fishes,
white and red, blue and yellow; however he cast his net and, hauling it
in, saw that he had netted four fishes, one of each colour. Thereat he
rejoiced greatly and more when the Ifrit said to him, "Carry these to
the Sultan and set them in his presence; then he will give thee what
shall make thee a wealthy man; and now accept my excuse, for by Allah
at this time I wot none other way of benefiting thee, inasmuch I have
lain in this sea eighteen hundred years and have not seen the face of
the world save within this hour. But I would not have thee fish here
save once a day." The Ifrit then gave him Godspeed, saying, "Allah
grant we meet again;"[104] and struck the earth with one foot,
whereupon the ground clove asunder and swallowed him up. The Fisherman,
much marvelling at what had happened to him with the Ifrit, took the
fish and made for the city; and as soon as he reached home he filled an
earthen bowl with water and therein threw the fish which began to
struggle and wriggle about. Then he bore off the bowl upon his head
and, repairing to the King's palace (even as the Ifrit had bidden him)
laid the fish before the presence; and the King wondered with exceeding
wonder at the sight, for never in his lifetime had he seen fishes like
these in quality or in conformation. So he said, "Give those fish to
the stranger slave-girl who now cooketh for us," meaning the
bond-maiden whom the King of Roum had sent to him only three days
before, so that he had not yet made trial of her talents in the
dressing of meat. Thereupon the Wazir carried the fish to the cook and
bade her fry them,[105] saying, "O damsel, the King sendeth this say to
thee:—I have not treasured thee, O tear o' me! save for stress-time of
me; approve, then, to us this day thy delicate handiwork and thy
savoury cooking; for this dish of fish is a present sent to the Sultan
and evidently a rarity." The Wazir, after he had carefully charged her,
returned to the King, who commanded him to give the Fisherman four
hundred dinars: he gave them accordingly, and the man took them to his
bosom and ran off home stumbling and falling and rising again and
deeming the whole thing to be a dream. However, he bought for his
family all they wanted and lastly he went to his wife in huge joy and
gladness. So far concerning him; but as regards the cookmaid, she took
the fish and cleansed them and set them in the frying-pan, basting them
with oil till one side was dressed. Then she turned them over and,
behold, the kitchen wall clave asunder, and therefrom came a young
lady, fair of form, oval of face, perfect in grace, with eyelids which
Kohl-lines enchase.[106] Her dress was a silken head-kerchief fringed
and tasseled with blue: a large ring hung from either ear; a pair of
bracelets adorned her wrists; rings with bezels of priceless gems were
on her fingers; and she hent in hand a long rod of rattan-cane which
she thrust into the frying-pan, saying, "O fish! O fish! be ye constant
to your covenant?" When the cook-maiden saw this apparition she swooned
away. The young lady repeated her words a second time and a third time,
and at last the fishes raised their heads from the pan, and saying in
articulate speech "Yes! Yes!" began with one voice to recite:—
Come back and so will I! Keep faith and so will I! ✿ And if ye fain
forsake, I'll requite till quits we cry!
After this the young lady upset the frying-pan and went forth by the
way she came in and the kitchen wall closed upon her. When the
cook-maiden recovered from her fainting-fit, she saw the four fishes
charred black as charcoal, and crying out, "His staff brake in his
first bout,"[107] she again fell swooning to the ground. Whilst she was
in this case the Wazir came for the fish, and looking upon her as
insensible she lay, not knowing Sunday from Thursday, shoved her with
his foot and said, "Bring the fish for the Sultan!" Thereupon
recovering from her fainting-fit she wept and informed him of her case
and all that had befallen her. The Wazir marvelled greatly and
exclaiming, "This is none other than a right strange matter!", he sent
after the Fisherman and said to him, "Thou, O Fisherman, must needs
fetch us four fishes like those thou broughtest before." Thereupon the
man repaired to the tarn and cast his net; and when he landed it, lo!
four fishes were therein exactly like the first. These he at once
carried to the Wazir, who went in with them to the cook-maiden and
said, "Up with thee and fry these in my presence, that I may see this
business." The damsel arose and cleansed the fish, and set them in the
frying-pan over the fire; however they remained there but a little
while ere the wall clave asunder and the young lady appeared, clad as
before and holding in hand the wand which she again thrust into the
frying-pan, saying, "O fish! O fish! be ye constant to your olden
covenant?" And behold, the fish lifted their heads, and repeated "Yes!
Yes!" and recited this couplet:
Come back and so will I! Keep faith and so will I! ✿ But if ye fain
forsake, I'll requite till quits we cry!
And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her permitted
say.
Now when it was the Seventh Night,
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the
fishes spoke, and the young lady upset the frying-pan with her rod, and
went forth by the way she came and the wall closed up, the Wazir cried
out, "This is a thing not to be hidden from the King," So he went and
told him what had happened, whereupon quoth the King, "There is no help
for it but that I see this with mine own eyes." Then he sent for the
Fisherman and commanded him to bring four other fish like the first and
to take with him three men as witnesses. The Fisherman at once brought
the fish: and the King, after ordering them to give him four hundred
gold pieces, turned to the Wazir and said, "Up and fry me the fishes
here before me!" The Minister, replying "To hear is to obey," bade
bring the frying-pan, threw therein the cleansed fish and set it over
the fire; when lo! the wall clave asunder, and out burst a black slave
like a huge rock or a remnant of the tribe Ad[108] bearing in hand a
branch of a green tree; and he cried in loud and terrible tones, "O
fish! O fish! be ye all constant to your antique covenant?" whereupon
the fishes lifted their heads from the frying-pan and said, "Yes! Yes!
we be true to our vow;" and they again recited the couplet:
Come back and so will I! Keep faith and so will I! ✿ But if ye fain
forsake, I'll requite till quits we cry!
Then the huge blackamoor approached the frying-pan and upset it with
the branch and went forth by the way he came in. When he vanished from
their sight the King inspected the fish; and, finding them all charred
black as charcoal, was utterly bewildered and said to the Wazir,
"Verily this is a matter whereanent silence cannot be kept, and as for
the fishes, assuredly some marvellous adventure connects with them." So
he bade bring the Fisherman and asked him, saying "Fie on thee, fellow!
whence come these fishes?" and he answered, "From a tarn between four
heights lying behind this mountain which is in sight of thy city."
Quoth the King, "How many days' march?" Quoth he, "O our lord the
Sultan, a walk of half hour." The King wondered and, straightway
ordering his men to march and h
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