Tales from the Arabic — Volume 02
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Title: Tales from the Arabic — Volume 02
Translator: John Payne
Release date: March 1, 2004 [eBook #5243]
Most recently updated: June 13, 2026
Language: English
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES FROM THE ARABIC — VOLUME 02 ***
TALES FROM THE ARABIC
Of the Breslau and Calcutta (1814-18) editions of
The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night
not occurring in the other printed texts of the work,
Now first done into English
By John Payne
In Three Volumes:
VOLUME THE SECOND.
1901
Delhi Edition
Contents of The Second Volume.
Breslau Text.
1. King Shah Bekht and His Vizier Er Rehwan (Continued)
a. Story of the Pious Woman Accused of Lewdness
b. Story of the Journeyman and the Girl
c. Story of the Weaver Who Became a Physician by His
Wife's Commandment
d. Story of the Two Sharpers Who Cheated Each His Fellow
e. Story of the Sharpers with the Money-Changer and the
Ass
f. Story of the Sharper and the Merchants
i. Story of the Hawk and the Locust
g. Story Op the King and His Chamberlain Wife
h. Story of the Old Woman and the Draper's Wife
i. Story of the Foul-favoured Man and His Fair Wife
j. Story of the King Who Lost Kingdom and Wife and Wealth
and God Restored Them To Him
k. Story of Selim and Selma
l. Story of the King of Hind and His Vizier
2. El Melik Ez Zahir Rukneddin Bibers El Bunducdari and the
Sixteen Officers Of Police
a. The First Officer's Story
b. The Second Officer's Story
c. The Third Officer's Story
d. The Fourth Officer's Story
e. The Fifth Officer's Story
f. The Sixth Officer's Story
g. The Seventh Officer's Story
h. The Eighth Officer's Story
i. The Thief's Story
i. The Ninth Officer's Story
j. The Tenth Officer's Story
k. The Eleventh Officer's Story
l. The Twelfth Officer's Story
m. The Thirteenth Officer's Story
n. The Fourteenth Officer's Story
i. A Merry Jest of a Thief
ii. Story of the Old Sharper
o. The Fifteenth Officer's Story
p. The Sixteenth Officer's Story
3. Abdallah Ben Nafi and the King's Son of Cashghar
a. Story of the Damsel Tuhfet El Culoub and the Khalif
Haroun Er Reshid
Calcutta (1814-8) Text
4. Women's Craft
Breslau Text.
King Shah Bekht and His Vizier Er Rehwan
(continued).
The Eighteenth Night of the Month.
When the evening evened, the king summoned the vizier and
required of him the [promised] story; so he said, "It is well.
Know, O king, that
STORY OF THE PIOUS WOMAN ACCUSED OF
LEWDNESS.
There was once a man of Nishapour,[FN#1] who had a wife of the
utmost loveliness and piety, and he was minded to set out on the
pilgrimage. So he commended his wife to the care of his brother
and besought him to aid her in her affairs and further her to her
desires till he should return, so they both abode alive and well.
Then he took ship and departed and his absence was prolonged.
Meanwhile, the brother went in to his brother's wife, at all
times and seasons, and questioned her of her circumstances and
went about her occasions; and when his visits to her were
prolonged and he heard her speech and looked upon her face, the
love of her gat hold upon his heart and he became distraught with
passion for her and his soul prompted him [to evil]. So he
besought her to lie with him, but she refused and chid him for
his foul deed, and he found him no way unto presumption;[FN#2]
wherefore he importuned her with soft speech and gentleness.
Now she was righteous in all her dealings and swerved not from
one word;[FN#3] so, when he saw that she consented not unto him,
he misdoubted that she would tell his brother, when he returned
from his journey, and said to her, 'An thou consent not to this
whereof I require thee, I will cause thee fall into suspicion and
thou wilt perish.' Quoth she, 'Be God (extolled be His perfection
and exalted be He!) [judge] betwixt me and thee, and know that,
shouldst thou tear me limb from limb, I would not consent to that
whereto thou biddest me.' His folly[FN#4] persuaded him that she
would tell her husband; so, of his exceeding despite, he betook
himself to a company of people in the mosque and told them that
he had witnessed a man commit adultery with his brother's wife.
They believed his saying and took act of his accusation and
assembled to stone her. Then they dug her a pit without the city
and seating her therein, stoned her, till they deemed her dead,
when they left her.
Presently a villager passed by [the pit and finding] her [alive,]
carried her to his house and tended her, [till she recovered].
Now, he had a son, and when the young man saw her, he loved her
and besought her of herself; but she refused and consented not to
him, whereupon he redoubled in love and longing and despite
prompted him to suborn a youth of the people of his village and
agree with him that he should come by night and take somewhat
from his father's house and that, when he was discovered, he
should say that she was of accord with him in this and avouch
that she was his mistress and had been stoned on his account in
the city. So he did this and coming by night to the villager's
house, stole therefrom goods and clothes; whereupon the old man
awoke and seizing the thief, bound him fast and beat him, to make
him confess. So he confessed against the woman that she had
prompted him to this and that he was her lover from the city. The
news was bruited abroad and the people of the city assembled to
put her to death; but the old man, with whom she was, forbade
them and said, 'I brought this woman hither, coveting the
recompense [of God,] and I know not [the truth of] that which is
said of her and will not suffer any to hurt her.' Then he gave
her a thousand dirhems, by way of alms, and put her forth of the
village. As for the thief, he was imprisoned for some days; after
which the folk interceded for him with the old man, saying, 'This
is a youth and indeed he erred;' and he released him.
Meanwhile, the woman went out at hazard and donning devotee's
apparel, fared on without ceasing, till she came to a city and
found the king's deputies dunning the towns-folk for the tribute,
out of season. Presently, she saw a man, whom they were pressing
for the tribute; so she enquired of his case and being acquainted
therewith, paid down the thousand dirhems for him and delivered
him from beating; whereupon he thanked her and those who were
present. When he was set free, he accosted her and besought her
to go with him to his dwelling. So she accompanied him thither
and supped with him and passed the night. When the night darkened
on him, his soul prompted him to evil, for that which he saw of
her beauty and loveliness, and he lusted after her and required
her [of love]; but she repelled him and bade him fear God the
Most High and reminded him of that which she had done with him of
kindness and how she had delivered him from beating and
humiliation.
However, he would not be denied, and when he saw her [constant]
refusal of herself to him, he feared lest she should tell the
folk of him. So, when he arose in the morning, he took a scroll
and wrote in it what he would of forgery and falsehood and going
up to the Sultan's palace, said, '[I have] an advisement [for the
king].' So he bade admit him and he delivered him the writ that
he had forged, saying, 'I found this letter with the woman, the
devotee, the ascetic, and indeed she is a spy, a secret informer
against the king to his enemy; and I deem the king's due more
incumbent on me than any other and his advisement the first
[duty], for that he uniteth in himself all the people, and but
for the king's presence, the subjects would perish; wherefore I
have brought [thee] warning.' The king put faith in his words and
sent with him those who should lay hands upon the woman and put
her to death; but they found her not.
As for the woman, whenas the man went out from her, she resolved
to depart; so she went forth, saying in herself, 'There is no
journeying for me in woman's attire.' Then she donned men's
apparel, such as is worn of the pious, and set out and wandered
over the earth; nor did she leave going till she entered a
certain city. Now the king of that city had an only daughter in
whom he gloried and whom he loved, and she saw the devotee and
deeming her a pilgrim youth, said to her father, 'I would fain
have this youth take up his abode with me, so I may learn of him
wisdom and renunciation and religion.' Her father rejoiced in
this and commanded the [supposed] pilgrim to take up his sojourn
with his daughter in his palace. Now they were in one place and
the king's daughter was strenuous to the utterest in continence
and chastity and nobility of mind and magnanimity and devotion to
the worship of God; but the ignorant slandered her[FN#5] and the
folk of the realm said, 'The king's daughter loveth the pilgrim
youth and he loveth her.'
Now the king was a very old man and destiny decreed the ending of
his term of life; so he died and when he was buried, the folk
assembled and many were the sayings of the people and of the
king's kinsfolk and officers, and they took counsel together to
slay the princess and the young pilgrim, saying, 'This fellow
dishonoureth us with yonder strumpet and none accepteth dishonour
but the base.' So they fell upon them and slew the princess,
without questioning her of aught; whereupon the pious woman (whom
they deemed a boy) said to them, 'Out on ye, O misbelievers I Ye
have slain the pious lady.' Quoth they, 'Lewd fellow that thou
art, dost thou bespeak us thus? Thou lovedst her and she loved
thee, and we will slay thee without mercy.' 'God forbid!'
answered she, 'Indeed, the affair is the contrary of this.' 'What
proof hast thou of that?' asked they, and she said, 'Bring me
women.' So they brought her women, and when they looked on her,
they found her a woman.
When the townsfolk saw this, they repented of that which they had
done and the affair was grievous to them; so they sought pardon
[of God] and said to her, ' By the virtue of Him whom thou
servest, do thou seek pardon for us [of God!]' Quoth she, 'As for
me, I may no longer abide with you and I am about to depart from
you.' Then they humbled themselves in supplication to her and
wept and said to her, 'We conjure thee, by the virtue of God the
Most High, that thou take upon thyself the governance of the
kingdom and of the subjects.' But she refused; whereupon they
came up to her and wept and gave not over supplicating her, till
she consented and abode in the kingship. Her first commandment
was that they should bury the princess and build over her a
dome[FN#6] and she abode in that palace, worshipping God the Most
High and ruling the people with justice, and God (extolled be His
perfection and exalted be He!) vouchsafed her, by reason of the
excellence of her piety and her patience and continence, the
acceptance of her prayers, so that she sought not aught of Him to
whom belong might and majesty, but He granted her prayer; and her
report was noised abroad in all countries.
So the folk resorted to her from all parts and she used to pray
God (to whom belong might and majesty) for the oppressed and God
granted him relief, and against his oppressor, and He broke him
in sunder. Moreover, she prayed for the sick and they were made
whole; and on this wise she abode a great space of time. As for
her husband, when he returned from the pilgrimage, his brother
and the neighbours acquainted him with his wife's affair, whereat
he was sore concerned and misdoubted of their story, for that
which he knew of her chastity and prayerfulness; and he wept for
her loss.
Meanwhile, she prayed to God the Most High that He would
establish her innocence in the eyes of her husband and the folk.
So He sent down upon her husband's brother a sore disease and
none knew a remedy for him; wherefore he said to his brother, '
In such a city is a pious woman, a recluse, and her prayers are
answered; so do thou carry me to her, that she may pray for me
and God (to whom belong might and majesty) may make me whole of
this sickness.' Accordingly, he took him up and fared on with
him, till they came to the village where dwelt the old man, who
had rescued the woman from the pit and carried her to his
dwelling and tended her there, [till she recovered].
Here they halted and took up their lodging with the old man, who
questioned the husband of his case and that of his brother and
the reason of their journey, and he said, 'I purpose to go with
my brother, this sick man, to the holy woman, her whose prayers
are answered, so she may pray for him and God may make him whole
by the blessing of her prayers.' Quoth the villager, 'By Allah,
my son is in a parlous plight for sickness and we have heard that
the holy woman prayeth for the sick and they are made whole.
Indeed, the folk counsel me to carry him to her, and behold, I
will go in company with you. And they said, 'It is well.' So they
passed the night in that intent and on the morrow they set out
for the dwelling of the holy woman, this one carrying his son and
that his brother.
Now the man who had stolen the clothes and forged a lie against
the pious woman, pretending that he was her lover, sickened of a
sore sickness, and his people took him up and set out with him to
visit the holy woman, and Destiny brought them all together by
the way. So they fared on, till they came to the city wherein the
man dwelt for whom she had paid a thousand dirhems, to deliver
him from torment, and found him about to travel to her, by reason
of a sickness that had betided him. So they all fared on
together, unknowing that the holy woman was she whom they had so
foully wronged, and ceased not going till they came to her city
and foregathered at the gates of her palace, to wit, that wherein
was the tomb of the king's daughter.
Now the folk used to go in to her and salute her and crave her
prayers; and it was her wont to pray for none till he had
confessed to her his sins, when she would seek pardon for him and
pray for him that he might be healed, and he was straightway made
whole of sickness, by permission of God the Most High. [So, when
the four sick men were brought in to her,] she knew them
forthright, though they knew her not, and said to them, ' Let
each of you confess his sins, so I may crave pardon for him and
pray for him.' And the brother said, 'As for me, I required my
brother's wife of herself and she refused; whereupon despite and
folly[FN#7] prompted me and I lied against her and accused her to
the townsfolk of adultery; so they stoned her and slew her
unjustly and unrighteously; and this is the issue of unright and
falsehood and of the slaying of the [innocent] soul, whose
slaughter God hath forbidden.'
Then said the young man, the villager's son, 'And I, O holy
woman, my father brought us a woman who had been stoned, and my
people tended her till she recovered. Now she was surpassing of
beauty; so I required her of herself; but she refused and clave
fast to God (to whom belong might and majesty), wherefore
folly[FN#8] prompted me, so that I agreed with one of the youths
that he should steal clothes and coin from my father's house.
Then I laid hands on him [and carried him] to my father and made
him confess. So he avouched that the woman was his mistress from
the city and had been stoned on his account and that she was of
accord with him concerning the theft and had opened the doors to
him, and this was a lie against her, for that she had not yielded
to me in that which I sought of her. So there befell me what ye
see of punishment." And the young man, the thief, said, 'I am he
with whom thou agreedst concerning the theft and to whom thou
openedst the door, and I am he who avouched against her falsely
and calumniously and God (extolled be His perfection and exalted
be He!) knoweth that I never did evil with her, no, nor knew her
in any wise before then.'
Then said he whom she had delivered from torture and for whom she
had paid a thousand dirhems and who had required her of herself
in his house, for that her beauty pleased him, and [when she
refused to yield to him] had forged a letter against her and
treacherously denounced her to the Sultan and requited her bounty
with ingratitude, 'I am he who wronged her and lied against her,
and this is the issue of the oppressor's affair.'
When she heard their words, in the presence of the folk, she
said, 'Praise be to God, the King who availeth unto all things,
and blessing upon His prophets and apostles!' Then quoth she [to
the assembly], ' Bear witness, O ye who are present, to these
men's speech, and know that I am that woman whom they confess
that they wronged.' And she turned to her husband's brother and
said to him, 'I am thy brother's wife and God (extolled be His
perfection and exalted be He I) delivered me from that whereinto
thou castedst me of false accusation and suspect and from the
frowardness whereof thou hast spoken, and [now] hath He shown
forth my innocence, of His bounty and generosity. Go, for thou
art absolved of the wrong thou didst me.' Then she prayed for him
and he was made whole of his sickness.
Then said she to the villager's son, 'Know that I am the woman
whom thy father delivered from harm and stress and whom there
betided from thee of false accusation and frowardness that which
thou hast named.' And she craved pardon for him and he was made
whole of his sickness. [Then said she to the thief, 'I am she
against whom thou liedst, avouching that I was thy mistress, who
had been stoned on thine account, and that I was of accord with
thee concerning the robbing of the villager's house and had
opened the doors to thee.' And she prayed for him and he was made
whole of his sickness.] Then said she to [the townsman], him of
the tribute, 'I am she who gave thee the [thousand] dirhems and
thou didst with me what thou didst.' And she craved pardon for
him and prayed for him and he was made whole; whereupon the folk
marvelled at her oppressors, who had been afflicted alike, so God
(extolled be His perfection and exalted be He!) might show forth
her innocence before witnesses.
Then she turned to the old man who had delivered her from the pit
and prayed for him and gave him presents galore and among them a
myriad of money;[FN#9] and they all departed from her, except her
husband. When she was alone with him, she made him draw near unto
her and rejoiced in his coming and gave him the choice of abiding
with her. Moreover, she assembled the people of the city and set
out to them his virtue and worth and counselled them to invest
him with the charge of their governance and besought them to make
him king over them. They fell in with her of this and he became
king and took up his abode amongst them, whilst she gave herself
up to her religious exercises and abode with her husband on such
wise as she was with him aforetime.[FN#10] Nor," added the
vizier, "is this story, O king of the time, more extraordinary or
more delightful than that of the journeyman and the girl whose
belly he slit and fled."
When King Shah Bekht heard this, he said, "Most like all they say
of the vizier is leasing and his innocence will appear, even as
that of the pious woman appeared." Then he comforted the vizier's
heart and bade him go to his house.
The Nineteenth Night of the Month.
When the evening evened, the king bade fetch the vizier and
required of him the story of the journeyman and the girl. So he
said, "Hearkening and obedience. Know, O august king, that
STORY OF THE JOURNEYMAN AND THE GIRL.
There was once, of old time, in one of the tribes of the Arabs, a
woman great with child by her husband, and they had a hired
servant, a man of excellent understanding. When the woman came to
[the time of her] delivery, she gave birth to a maid-child in the
night and they sought fire of the neighbours. So the journeyman
went in quest of fire.
Now there was in the camp a wise woman,[FN#11] and she questioned
him of the new-born child, if it was male or female. Quoth he,
'It is a girl;' and she said, 'She shall do whoredom with a
hundred men and a journeyman shall marry her and a spider shall
slay her.' When the journeyman heard this, he returned upon his
steps and going in to the woman, took the child from her by wile
and slit its paunch. Then he fled forth into the desert at a
venture and abode in strangerhood what [while] God willed.
He gained him wealth and returning to his native land, after
twenty years' absence, alighted in the neighbourhood of an old
woman, whom he bespoke fair and entreated with liberality,
requiring of her a wench whom he might lie withal. Quoth she, 'I
know none but a certain fair woman, who is renowned for this
fashion.'[FN#12] Then she described her charms to him and made
him lust after her, and he said, 'Hasten to her forthright and
lavish unto her that which she asketh, [in exchange for her
favours].' So the old woman betook herself to the damsel and
discovered to her the man's wishes and bade her to him; but she
answered, saying, 'It is true that I was on this [fashion of]
whoredom [aforetime]; but now I have repented to God the Most
High and hanker no more after this; nay, I desire lawful
marriage; so, if he be content with that which is lawful, I am at
his service.'
The old woman returned to the man and told him what the damsel
said; and he lusted after her, by reason of her beauty and her
repentance; so he took her to wife, and when he went in to her,
he loved her and she also loved him. On this wise they abode a
great while, till one day he questioned her of the cause of a
mark[FN#13] he espied on her body, and she said, 'I know nought
thereof save that my mother told me a marvellous thing concerning
it.' 'What was that?' asked he, and she answered, 'She avouched
that she gave birth to me one night of the nights of the winter
and despatched a hired man, who was with us, in quest of fire for
her. He was absent a little while and presently returning, took
me and slit my belly and fled. When my mother saw this,
affliction overcame her and compassion possessed her; so she
sewed up my belly and tended me till, by the ordinance of God (to
whom belong might and majesty), the wound healed up."
When her husband heard this, he said to her, 'What is thy name
and what are the names of thy father and mother?' She told him
their names and her own, whereby he knew that it was she whose
belly he had slit and said to her, 'And where are thy father and
mother?' 'They are both dead,' answered she, and he said, 'I am
that journeyman who slit thy belly.' Quoth she, 'Why didst thou
that?' And he replied, 'Because of a saying I heard from the wise
woman.' 'What was it?' asked his wife, and he said, 'She avouched
that thou wouldst play the harlot with a hundied men and that I
should after take thee to wife.' Quoth she, 'Ay, I have whored it
with a hundred men, no more and no less, and behold, thou hast
married me.' 'Moreover,' continued her husband, 'the wise woman
foresaid, also, that thou shouldst die, at the last of thy life,
of the bite of a spider. Indeed, her saying hath been verified of
the harlotry and the marriage, and I fear lest her word come true
no less in the matter of thy death.'
Then they betook themselves to a place without the city, where he
builded him a mansion of solid stone and white plaster and
stopped its inner [walls] and stuccoed them; yea, he left not
therein cranny nor crevice and set in it two serving-women to
sweep and wipe, for fear of spiders. Here he abode with his wife
a great while, till one day he espied a spider on the ceiling and
beat it down. When his wife saw it, she said, 'This is that which
the wise woman avouched would kill me; so, by thy life [I conjure
thee], suffer me to slay it with mine own hand.' Her husband
forbade her from this, but she conjured him to let her kill the
spider; then, of her fear and her eagerness, she took a piece of
wood and smote it. The wood broke in sunder, of the force of the
blow, and a splinter from it entered her hand and wrought upon
it, so that it swelled. Then her arm swelled also and the
swelling spread to her side and thence grew till it reached her
heart and she died. Nor," added the vizier, "is this more
extraordinary or more wonderful than the story of the weaver who
became a physician by his wife's commandment."
When the king heard this, his admiration redoubled and he said,
"Of a truth, destiny is forewritten to all creatures, and I will
not accept[FN#14] aught that is said against my vizier the loyal
counsellor." And he bade him go to his house.
The Twentieth Night of the Month.
When the evening evened, the king let call his vizier and he
presented himself before him, whereupon he required of him the
hearing of the [promised] story. So he said, "Hearkening and
obedience. Know, O king. that
STORY OF THE WEAVER WHO BECAME A
PHYSICIAN BY HIS WIFE'S COMMANDMENT.
There was once, in the land of Fars,[FN#15] a man who took to
wife a woman higher than himself in rank and nobler of lineage,
but she had no guardian to preserve her from want. It misliked
her to marry one who was beneath her; nevertheless, she married
him, because of need, and took of him a bond in writing to the
effect that he would still be under her commandment and
forbiddance and would nowise gainsay her in word or deed. Now the
man was a weaver and he bound himself in writing to pay his wife
ten thousand dirhems, [in case he should make default in the
condition aforesaid].
On this wise they abode a long while till one day the wife went
out in quest of water, whereof she had need, and espied a
physician who had spread a carpet in the Thereon he had set out
great store of drugs and implements of medicine and he was
speaking and muttering [charms], whilst the folk flocked to him
and compassed him about on every side. The weaver's wife
marvelled at the largeness of the physician's fortune[FN#16] and
said in herself, 'Were my husband thus, he would have an easy
life of it and that wherein we are of straitness and misery would
be enlarged unto him.'
Then she returned home, troubled and careful; and when her
husband saw her on this wise, he questioned her of her case and
she said to him, 'Verily, my breast is straitened by reason of
thee and of the simpleness of thine intent. Straitness liketh me
not and thou in thy [present] craft gaiuest nought; so either do
thou seek out a craft other than this or pay me my due[FN#17] and
let me go my way.' Her husband chid her for this and admonished
her;[FN#18] but she would not be turned from her intent and said
to him, 'Go forth and watch yonder physician how he doth and leam
from him what he saith.' Quoth he, 'Let not thy heart be
troubled: I will go every day to the physician's assembly.'
So he fell to resorting daily to the physician and committing to
memory his sayings and that which he spoke of jargon, till he had
gotten a great matter by heart, and all this he studied throughly
and digested it. Then he returned to his wife and said to her, 'I
have committed the physician's sayings to memory and have learned
his fashion of muttering and prescribing and applying
remedies[FN#19] and have gotten by heart the names of the
remedies and of all the diseases, and there abideth nought
[unaccomplished] of thy commandment. What wilt thou have me do
now?' Quoth she, 'Leave weaving and open thyself a physician's
shop.' But he answered, 'The people of my city know me and this
affair will not profit me, save in a land of strangerhood; so
come, let us go out from this city and get us to a strange land
and [there] live.' And she said, 'Do as thou wilt.'
So he arose and taking his weaving gear, sold it and bought with
the price drugs and simples and wrought himself a carpet, with
which they set out and journeyed to a certain village, where they
took up their abode. Then the man donned a physician's habit and
fell to going round about the hamlets and villages and country
parts; and he began to earn his living and make gain. Their
affairs prospered and their case was bettered; wherefore they
praised God for their present ease and the village became to them
a home.
[On this wise he abode a pretty while] and the days ceased not
and the nights to transport him from country to country, till he
came to the land of the Greeks and lighted down in a city of the
cities thereof, wherein was Galen the Sage; but the weaver knew
him not, nor was he ware who he was. So he went forth, according
to his wont, in quest of a place where the folk might assemble
together, and hired Galen's courtyard.[FN#20] There he spread his
carpet and setting out thereon his drugs and instruments of
medicine, praised himself and his skill and vaunted himself of
understanding such as none but he might claim.
Galen heard that which he avouched of his understanding and it
was certified unto him and established in his mind that the man
was a skilled physician of the physicians of the Persians and [he
said in himself], 'Except he had confidence in his knowledge and
were minded to confront me and contend with me, he had not sought
the door of my house neither spoken that which he hath spoken.'
And concern gat hold upon Galen and doubt. Then he looked out
upon[FN#21] the weaver and addressed himself to see what he
should do, whilst the folk began to flock to him and set out to
him their ailments, and he would answer them thereof [and
prescribe for them], hitting the mark one while and missing it
another, so that there appeared unto Galen of his fashion nothing
whereby his mind might be assured that he had formed a just
opinion of his skill.
Presently, up came a woman with a phial of urine, and when the
[mock] physician saw the phial afar off, he said to her, 'This is
the urine of a man, a stranger.' 'Yes,' answered she; and he
continued, 'Is he not a Jew and is not his ailment indigestion?'
'Yes,' replied the woman, and the folk marvelled at this;
wherefore the man was magnified in Galen's eyes, for that he
heard speech such as was not of the usage of physicians, seeing
that they know not urine but by shaking it and looking into it
anear neither know they a man's water from a woman's water, nor a
stranger's [from a countryman's], nor a Jew's from a
Sherifs.[FN#22] Then said the woman, 'What is the remedy?' Quoth
the weaver, 'Pay down the fee.' So she paid him a dirhem and he
gave her medicines contrary to that ailment and such as would
aggravate the patient's malady.
When Galen saw what appeared to him of the [mock] physician's
incapacity, he turned to his disciples and pupils and bade them
fetch the other, with all his gear and drugs. So they brought him
into his presence on the speediest wise, and when Galen saw him
before him, he said to him, 'Knowest thou me?' ' No,' answered
the other, 'nor did I ever set eyes on thee before this day.'
Quoth the sage, 'Dost thou know Galen?' And the weaver said,
'No.' Then said Galen, 'What prompted thee to that which thou
dost?' So he related to him his story and gave him to know of the
dowry and the obligation by which he was bound with regard to his
wife, whereat Galen marvelled and certified himself of the matter
of the dower.
Then he bade lodge him near himself and was bountiful to him and
took him apart and said to him, 'Expound to me the story of the
phial and whence then knewest that the water therein was that of
a man, and he a stranger and a Jew, and that his ailment was
indigestion?' ' It is well,' answered the weaver. ' Thou must
know that we people of Persia are skilled in physiognomy[FN#23]
and I saw the woman to be rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed and tall. Now
these attributes belong to women who are enamoured of a man and
are distraught for love of him;[FN#24] moreover, I saw her
consumed [with anxiety]; wherefore I knew that the patient was
her husband. As for his strangerhood, I observed that the woman's
attire differed from that of the people of the city, wherefore I
knew that she was a stranger; and in the mouth of the phial I
espied a yellow rag,[FN#25] whereby I knew that the patient was a
Jew and she a Jewess. Moreover, she came to me on the first day
[of the week];[FN#26] and it is the Jews' custom to take
pottages[FN#27] and meats that have been dressed overnight[FN#28]
and eat them on the Sabbath day,[FN#29] hot and cold, and they
exceed in eating; wherefore indigestion betideth them. On this
wise I was directed and guessed that which thou hast heard.'
When Galen heard this, he ordered the weaver the amount of his
wife's dowry and bade him pay it to her and divorce her.
Moreover, he forbade him from returning to the practice of physic
and warned him never again to take to wife a woman of better
condition than himself; and he gave him his spending-money and
bade him return to his [former] craft. Nor," added the vizier,
"is this more extraordinary or rarer than the story of the two
sharpers who cozened each his fellow."
When King Shah Bekht heard this, he said in himself, "How like is
this story to my present case with this vizier, who hath not his
like!" Then he bade him depart to his own house and come again at
eventide.
The Twenty-First Night of the Month.
When came the night, the vizier presented himself before the
king, who bade him relate the [promised] story. So he said,
"Hearkening and obedience. Know, Out
STORY OF THE TWO SHARPERS WHO CHEATED
EACH HIS FELLOW.
There was once, in the city of Baghdad, a man, [by name El
Merouzi,][FN#30] who was a sharper and plagued[FN#31] the folk
with his knavish tricks, and he was renowned in all quarters [for
roguery]. [He went out one day], carrying a load of sheep's dung,
and took an oath that he would not return to his lodging till he
had sold it at the price of raisins. Now there was in another
city a second sharper, [by name Er Razi,][FN#32] one of its
people, who [went out the same day], bearing a load of goat's
dung, which he had sworn that he would not sell but at the price
of dried figs.
So each of them fared on with that which was with him and gave
not over going till they met in one of the inns[FN#33] and each
complained to the other of that which he had abidden of travel
[in quest of custom] and of the lack of demand for his wares. Now
each of them had it in mind to cheat his fellow; so El Merouzi
said to Er Razi, 'Wilt thou sell me that?' 'Yes,' answered he,
and the other continued, 'And wilt thou buy that which is with
me?' Er Razi assented; so they agreed upon this and each of them
sold his fellow that which was with him [in exchange for the
other's ware]; after which they bade each other farewell and
parted. As soon as they were out of each other's sight, they
examined their loads, to see what was therein, and one of them
found that he had a load of sheep's dung and the other that he
had a load of goat's dung; whereupon each of them turned back in
quest of his fellow. They met in the inn aforesaid and laughed at
each other and cancelling their bargain, agreed to enter into
partnership and that all that they had of money and other good
should be in common between them, share and share alike.
Then said Er Razi to El Merouzi, 'Come with me to my city, for
that it is nearer [than thine].' So he went with him, and when he
came to his lodging, he said to his wife and household and
neighbours, 'This is my brother, who hath been absent in the land
of Khorassan and is come back.' And he abode with him in all
honour and worship three days' space. On the fourth day, Er Razi
said to him, 'Know, O my brother, that I purpose to do somewhat'
'What is it?' asked El Merouzi. Quoth the other, 'I mean to feign
myself dead and do thou go to the market and hire two porters and
a bier. [Then come back and take me up and go round about the
streets and markets with me and collect alms on my
account.][FN#34]
Accordingly El Merouzi repaired to the market and fetching that
which he sought, returned to Er Razi's house, where he found the
latter cast down in the vestibule, with his beard tied and his
eyes shut; and indeed, his colour was paled and his belly blown
out and his limbs relaxed. So he deemed him in truth dead and
shook him; but he spoke not; and he took a knife and pricked him
in the legs, but he stirred not. Then said Er Razi, 'What is
this, O fool?' And El Merouzi answered, 'Methought thou wast dead
in very sooth.' Quoth Er Razi, 'Get thee to seriousness and leave
jesting.' So he took him up and went with him to the market and
collected [alms] for him that day till eventide, when he carried
him back to his lodging and waited till the morrow.
Next morning, he again took up the bier and went round with it as
before, in quest of alms. Presently, the master of police, who
was of those who had given alms on account of the supposed dead
man on the previous day, met him; so he was angered and fell on
the porters and beat them and took the [supposed] dead body,
saying, 'I will bury him and earn the reward [of God].'[FN#35] So
his men took him up and carrying him to the prefecture, fetched
grave-diggers, who dug him a grave. Then they bought him a shroud
and perfumes[FN#36] and fetched an old man of the quarter, to
wash him. So he recited over him [the appointed prayers and
portions of the Koran] and laying him on the bench, washed him
and shrouded him. After he had shrouded him, he voided;[FN#37] so
he renewed the washing and went away to make his
ablutions,[FN#38] whilst all the folk departed, likewise, to make
the [obligatory] ablution, previously to the funeral.
When the dead man found himself alone, he sprang up, as he were a
Satan, and donning the washer's clothes,[FN#39] took the bowls
and water-can and wrapped them up in the napkins. Then be took
his shroud under his arm and went out. The doorkeepers thought
that he was the washer and said to him, 'Hast thou made an end of
the washing, so we may tell the Amir?' 'Yes,' answered the
sharper and made off to his lodging, where he found El Merouzi
soliciting his wife and saying to her, 'Nay, by thy life, thou
wilt never again look upon his face; for that by this time he is
buried. I myself escaped not from them but after travail and
trouble, and if he speak, they will put him to death.' Quoth she,
'And what wilt thou have of me?' 'Accomplish my desire of thee,'
answered he, 'and heal my disorder, for I am better than thy
husband.' And he fell a-toying with her.
When Er Razi heard this, he said, 'Yonder wittol lusteth after my
wife; but I will do him a mischief.' Then he rushed in upon them,
and when El Merouzi saw him, he marvelled at him and said to him,
'How didst thou make thine escape?' So he told him the trick he
had played and they abode talking of that which they had
collected from the folk [by way of alms], and indeed they had
gotten great store of money. Then said El Merouzi, 'Verily, mine
absence hath been prolonged and fain would I return to my own
country.' Quoth Er Rasi,' As thou wilt;' and the other said, 'Let
us divide the money we have gotten and do thou go with me to my
country, so I may show thee my tricks and my fashions.' 'Come
to-morrow,' replied Er Razi, 'and we will divide the money.'
So El Merouzi went away and the other turned to his wife and said
to her, 'We have gotten us great plenty of money, and yonder dog
would fain take the half of it; but this shall never be, for that
my mind hath been changed against him, since I heard him solicit
thee; wherefore I purpose to play him a trick and enjoy all the
money; and do not thou cross me.' ' It is well,' answered she,
and he said to her, '[To-morrow] at day-peep I will feign myself
dead and do thou cry out and tear thy hair, whereupon the folk
will flock to me. Then lay me out and bury me, and when the folk
are gone away [from the burial-place], do thou dig down to me and
take me; and have no fear for me, for I can abide two days in the
tomb [without hurt].' And she answered, 'Do what thou wilt.'
So, when it was the foredawn hour, she tied his beard and
spreading a veil over him, cried out, whereupon the people of the
quarter flocked to her, men and women. Presently, up came El
Merouzi, for the division of the money, and hearing the crying
[of the mourners], said, 'What is to do?" Quoth they, 'Thy
brother is dead;' and he said in himself, 'The accursed fellow
putteth a cheat on me, so he may get all the money for himself,
but I will do with him what shall soon bring him to life again.'
Then he rent the bosom of his gown and uncovered his head,
weeping and saying, 'Alas, my brother! Alas, my chief! Alas, my
lord!' And he went in to the men, who rose and condoled with him.
Then he accosted Er Razi's wife and said to her, 'How came his
death about?' 'I know not,' answered she, 'except that, when I
arose in the morning, I found him dead.' Moreover, he questioned
her of the money and good that was with her, but she said, 'I
have no knowledge of this and no tidings.'
So he sat down at the sharper's head, and said to him, 'Know, O
Razi, that I will not leave thee till after ten days and their
nights, wherein I will wake and sleep by thy grave. So arise and
be not a fool.' But he answered him not and El Merouzi [drew his
knife and] fell to sticking it into the other's hands and feet,
thinking to make him move; but [he stirred not and] he presently
grew weary of this and concluded that the sharper was dead in
good earnest. [However, he still misdoubted of the case] and said
in himself, 'This fellow is dissembling, so he may enjoy all the
money.' Therewith he addressed himself to prepare him [for
burial] and bought him perfumes and what [not else] was needed.
Then they brought him to the washing-place and El Merouzi came to
him and heating water till it boiled and bubbled and a third of
it was wasted,[FN#40] fell to pouring it on his skin, so that it
turned red and blue and blistered; but he abode still on one case
[and stirred not].
So they wrapped him in the shroud and set him on the bier. Then
they took up his bier and bearing him to the burial-place, laid
him in the grave[FN#41] and threw the earth over him; after which
the folk dispersed, but El Merouzi and the widow abode by the
tomb, weeping, and gave not over sitting till sundown, when the
woman said to him, 'Come, let us go to the house, for this
weeping will not profit us, nor will it restore the dead.' 'By
Allah,' answered the sharper, 'I will not budge hence till I have
slept and waked by this tomb ten days, with their nights!' When
she heard this his speech, she feared lest he should keep his
word and his oath, and so her husband perish; but she said in
herself, 'This fellow dissembleth: if I go away and return to my
house, he will abide by him a little while and go away.' And El
Merouzi said to her, 'Arise, thou, and go away.'
So she arose and returned to her house, whilst El Merouzi abode
in his place till the night was half spent, when he said to
himself, 'How long [is this to last]? Yet how can I let this
knavish dog die and lose the money? Methinks I were better open
the tomb on him and bring him forth and take my due of him by
dint of grievous beating and torment.' Accordingly, he dug him up
and pulled him forth of the tomb; after which he betook himself
to an orchard hard by the burial-ground and cut thence staves and
palm sticks. Then he tied the dead man's legs and came down on
him with the staff and beat him grievously; but he stirred not.
When the time grew long on him, his shoulders became weary and he
feared lest some one of the watch should pass on his round and
surprise him. So he took up Er Razi and carrying him forth of the
cemetery, stayed not till he came to the Magians' burying-place
and casting him down in a sepulchre[FN#42] there, rained heavy
blows upon him till his shoulders failed him, but the other
stirred not Then he sat down by his side and rested; after which
he rose and renewed the beating upon him, [but to no better
effect; and thus he did] till the end of the night
Now, as destiny would have it, a band of thieves, whose use it
was, whenas they had stolen aught, to resort to that place and
divide [their booty], came thither [that night], as of their
wont; and they were ten in number and had with them wealth
galore, which they were carrying. When they drew near the
sepulchre, they heard a noise of blows within it and the captain
said, 'This is a Magian whom the angels[FN#43] are tormenting.'
So they entered [the burial-ground] and when they came over
against El Merouzi, he feared lest they should be the officers of
the watch come upon him, wherefore he [arose and] fled and stood
among the tombs.[FN#44] The thieves came up to the place and
finding Er Razi bound by the feet and by him near seventy sticks,
marvelled at this with an exceeding wonderment and said, 'God
confound thee! This was sure an infidel, a man of many crimes;
for, behold, the earth hath rejected him from her womb, and by my
life, he is yet fresh! This is his first night [in the tomb] and
the angels were tormenting him but now; so whosoever of you hath
a sin upon his conscience, let him beat him, as a propitiatory
offering to God the Most High.' And the thieves said, 'We all
have sins upon our consciences.'
So each of them went up to the [supposed] dead man and dealt him
nigh upon a hundred blows, exclaiming the while, one, 'This is
for[FN#45] my father!' and another, 'This is for my grandfather!'
whilst a third said, 'This is for my brother!' and a fourth,
'This is for my mother!' And they gave not over taking turns at
him and beating him, till they were weary, what while El Merouzi
stood laughing and saying in himself, 'It is not I alone who have
entered into sin against him. There is no power and no virtue
save in God the Most High, the Supreme!'
Then the thieves addressed themselves to sharing their booty and
presently fell out concerning a sword that was among the spoil,
who should take it. Quoth the captain, 'Methinks we were better
prove it; so, if it be good, we shall know its worth, and if it
be ill, we shall know that.' And they said, 'Try it on this dead
man, for he is fresh.' So the captain took the sword and drawing
it, poised it and brandished it; but, when Er Razi saw this, he
made sure of death and said in himself, 'I have borne the washing
and the boiling water and the pricking with the knife and the
grave and its straitness and all this [beating], trusting in God
that I might be delivered from death, and [hitherto] I have been
delivered; but, as for the sword, I may not brook that, for but
one stroke of it, and I am a dead man.'
So saying, he sprang to his feet and catching up the thigh-bone
of one of the dead, cried out at the top of his voice, saying, 'O
ye dead, take them!' And he smote one of them, whilst his comrade
[El Merouzi] smote another and they cried out at them and
buffeted them on the napes of their necks; whereupon the thieves
left that which was with them of plunder and fled; and indeed
their wits forsook them [for terror] and they stayed not in their
flight till they came forth of the Magians' burial-ground and
left it a parasang's length behind them, when they halted,
trembling and affrighted for the soreness of that which had
betided them of fear and amazement at the dead.
As for Er Razi and El Merouzi, they made peace with each other
and sat down to share the booty. Quoth El Merouzi, 'I will not
give thee a dirhem of this money, till thou pay me my due of the
money that is in thy house.' And Er Razi said 'I will not do it,
nor will I subtract this from aught of my due.' So they fell out
upon this and disputed with one another and each went saying to
his fellow, 'I will not give thee a dirhem!' And words ran high
between them and contention was prolonged.
Meanwhile, when the thieves halted, one of them said to the
others, 'Let us return and see;' and the captain said, 'This
thing is impossible of the dead: never heard we that they came to
life on this wise. So let us return and take our good, for that
the dead have no occasion for good.' And they were divided in
opinion as to returning: but [presently they came to a decision
and] said, 'Indeed, our arms are gone and we cannot avail against
them and will not draw near the place where they are: only let
one of us [go thither and] look at it, and if he hear no sound of
them, let him advertise us what we shall do.' So they agreed that
they should send a man of them and assigned him [for this
service] two parts [of the booty].
Accordingly, he returned to the burial-ground and gave not over
going till he stood at the door of the sepulchre, when he heard
El Merouzi say to his fellow, 'I will not give thee a single
dirhem of the money!' The other said the like and they were
occupied with contention and mutual revilement and talk. So the
thief returned in haste to his fellows, who said, 'What is behind
thee?' Quoth he, 'Get you gone and flee for your lives and save
yourselves, O fools; for that much people of the dead are come to
life and between them are words and contention.' So the thieves
fled, whilst the two sharpers retained to Er Razi's house and
made peace with one another and laid the thieves' purchase to the
money they had gotten aforetime and lived a while of time. Nor, O
king of the age," added the vizier, "is this rarer or more
marvellous than the story of the four sharpers with the
money-changer and the ass."
When the king heard this story, he smiled and it pleased him and
he bade the vizier go away to his own house.
The Twenty-Second Night of the Month.
When the evening evened, the king summoned the vizier and
required of him the hearing of the [promised] story. So he said,
"Hearkening and obedience. Know, O king, that
STORY OF THE SHARPERS WITH THE
MONEY-CHANGER AND THE ASS.
Four sharpers once plotted against a money-changer, a man of
abounding wealth, and agreed upon a device for the taking of
somewhat of his money. So one of them took an ass and laying on
it a bag, wherein was money, lighted down at the money-changer's
shop and sought of him change for the money. The money- changer
brought out to him the change and bartered it with him, whilst
the sharper was easy with him in the matter of the exchange, so
he might give him confidence in himself. [As they were thus
engaged,] up came the [other three] sharpers and surrounded the
ass; and one of them said, '[It is] he,' and another said, 'Wait
till I look at him.' Then he fell to looking on the ass and
stroking him from his mane to his crupper; whilst the third went
up to him and handled him and felt him from head to tail, saying,
' Yes, [it is] in him.' Quoth another, ['Nay,] it is not in him.'
And they gave not over doing the like of this.
Then they accosted the owner of the ass and chaffered with him
and he said, 'I will not sell him but for ten thousand dirhems.'
They offered him a thousand dirhems; but he refused and swore
that he would not sell the ass but for that which he had said.
They ceased not to add to their bidding, till the price reached
five thousand dirhems, whilst their fellow still said, 'I will
not sell him but for ten thousand dirhems.' The money-changer
counselled him to sell, but he would not do this and said to him,
'Harkye, gaffer! Thou hast no knowledge of this ass's case.
Concern thyself with silver and gold and what pertaineth thereto
of change and exchange; for indeed the virtue of this ass passeth
thy comprehension. To every craft its craftsman and to every
means of livelihood its folk.'
When the affair was prolonged upon the three sharpers, they went
away and sat down a little apart; then they came up to the
money-changer privily and said to him, 'If thou canst buy him for
us, do so, and we will give thee a score of dirhems.' Quoth he,
'Go away and sit down afar from him.' So they did his bidding and
the money-changer went up to the owner of the ass and gave not
over tempting him with money and cajoling him and saying, 'Leave
yonder fellows and sell me the ass, and I will reckon him a gift
from thee,' till he consented to sell him the ass for five
thousand and five hundred dirhems. Accordingly the money-changer
counted down to him five thousand and five hundred dirhems of his
own money, and the owner of the ass took the price and delivered
the ass to him, saying, 'Whatsoever betideth, though he abide a
deposit about thy neck,[FN#46] sell him not to yonder rogues for
less than ten thousand dirhems, for that they would fain buy him
because of a hidden treasure whereof they know, and nought can
guide them thereto but this ass. So close thy hand on him and
gainsay me not, or thou wilt repent.'
So saying, he left him and went away, whereupon up came the three
other sharpers, the comrades of him of the ass, and said to the
money-changer, 'God requite thee for us with good, for that thou
hast bought him! How can we requite thee!' Quoth he, 'I will not
sell him but for ten thousand dirhems.' When they heard this,
they returned to the ass and fell again to examining him and
handling him. Then said they to the money-changer, 'We were
mistaken in him. This is not the ass we sought and he is not
worth more than half a score paras to us.' Then they left him and
offered to go away, whereat the money-changer was sore chagrined
and cried out at their speech, saying, 'O folk, ye besought me to
buy him for you and now I have bought him, ye say, "We were
deceived [in him], and he is not worth more than ten paras to
us."' Quoth they, 'We supposed that in him was that which we
desired; but, behold, in him is the contrary of that which we
want; and indeed he hath a default, for that he is short of
back.' And they scoffed at him and went away from him and
dispersed.
The money-changer thought they did but finesse with him, that
they might get the ass at their own price; but, when they went
away from him and he had long in vain awaited their return, he
cried out, saying, 'Woe!' and 'Ruin!' and 'Alack, my sorry
chance!' and shrieked aloud and tore his clothes. So the people
of the market assembled to him and questioned him of his case;
whereupon he acquainted them with his plight and told them what
the sharpers had said and how they had beguiled him and how it
was they who had cajoled him into buying an ass worth half a
hundred dirhems[FN#47] for five thousand and five hundred.[FN#48]
His friends blamed him and a company of the folk laughed at him
and marvelled at his folly and his credulity in accepting the
sharpers' talk, without suspicion, and meddling with that which
he understood not and thrusting himself into that whereof he was
not assured.
On this wise, O King Shah Bekht," continued the vizier, "is the
issue of eagerness for [the goods of] the world and covetise of
that which our knowledge embraceth not; indeed, [whoso doth thus]
shall perish and repent Nor, O king of the age, (added he) is
this story more extraordinary than that of the sharper and the
merchants."
When the king heard this story, he said in himself, "Verily, had
I given ear to the sayings of my courtiers and inclined to the
idle prate [of those who counselled me] in the matter of [the
slaying of] my vizier, I had repented to the utterest of
repentance, but praised be God, who hath disposed me to
mansuetude and long-suffering and hath endowed me with patience!"
Then he turned to the vizier and bade him return to his dwelling
and [dismissed] those who were present, as of wont.
The Twenty-Third Night of the Month.
When the evening evened, the king sent after the vizier and when
he presented himself before him, he required of him the hearing
of the [promised] story. So he said, "Hearkening and obedience.
Know, O illustrious lord, that
STORY OF THE SHARPER AND THE MERCHANTS.
There was once aforetime a certain sharper, who [was so eloquent
that he] would turn the ear inside out, and he was a man of
understanding and quick wit and skill and perfection. It was his
wont to enter a town and [give himself out as a merchant and]
make a show of trafficking and insinuate himself into the
intimacy of people of worth and consort with the merchants, for
he was [apparently] distinguished for virtue and piety. Then he
would put a cheat on them and take [of them] what he might spend
and go away to another city; and he ceased not to do thus a great
while.
It befell one day that he entered a certain city and sold
somewhat that was with him of merchandise and got him friends of
the merchants of the place and fell to sitting with them and
entertaining them and inviting them to his lodging and his
assembly, whilst they also invited him to their houses. On this
wise he abode a long while, till he was minded to leave the city;
and this was bruited abroad among his friends, who were concerned
for parting from him. Then he betook himself to him of them, who
was the richest of them in substance and the most apparent of
them in generosity, and sat with him and borrowed his goods; and
when he was about to take leave, he desired him to give him the
deposit that he had left with him. 'And what is the deposit?'
asked the merchant. Quoth the sharper, 'It is such a purse, with
the thousand dinars therein.' And the merchant said, 'When didst
thou give it me?' 'Extolled be the perfection of God!' replied
the sharper. 'Was it not on such a day, by such a token, and thus
and thus?' 'I know not of this,' rejoined the merchant, and words
were bandied about between them, whilst the folk [who were
present also] disputed together concerning their affair and their
speech, till their voices rose high and the neighbours had
knowledge of that which passed between them.
Then said the sharper, 'O folk, this is my friend and I deposited
with him a deposit, but he denieth it; so in whom shall the folk
put trust after this?' And they said, 'This [FN#49] is a man of
worth and we have found in him nought but trustiness and loyality
and good breeding, and he is endowed with understanding and
generosity. Indeed, he avoucheth no falsehood, for that we have
consorted with him and mixed with him and he with us and we know
the sincerity of his religion.' Then quoth one of them to the
merchant, 'Harkye, such an one! Bethink thee and consult thy
memory. It may not be but that thou hast forgotten.' But he said,
'O folk, I know nothing of that which he saith, for indeed he
deposited nought with me.' And the affair was prolonged between
them. Then said the sharper to the merchant, 'I am about to make
a journey and have, praised be God the Most High, wealth galore,
and this money shall not escape me; but do thou swear to me.' And
the folk said, 'Indeed, this man doth justice upon
himself.'[FN#50] Whereupon the merchant fell into that which he
misliked[FN#51] and came near upon [suffering] loss and ill
repute.
Now he had a friend, who pretended to quickwittedness and
understanding; so he came up to him privily and said to him, 'Let
me do, so I may put the change on this trickster, for I know him
to be a liar and thou art near upon having to pay the money; but
I will turn suspicion from thee and say to him, "The deposit is
with me and thou erredst in imagining that it was with other than
myself," and so divert him from thee.' 'Do so,' replied the
merchant, 'and rid the folk of their [false] debts.'
So the friend turned to the sharper and said to him, 'O my lord,
O such an one, thou goest under a delusion. The purse is with me,
for it was with me that thou depositedst it, and this elder is
innocent of it.' But the sharper answered him with impatience and
impetuosity, saying, 'Extolled be the perfection of God! As for
the purse that is with thee, O noble and trusty man, I know that
it is in the warrant of God and my heart is at ease concerning
it, for that it is with thee as it were with me; but I began by
demanding that which I deposited with this man, of my knowledge
that he coveteth the folk's good.' At this the friend was
confounded and put to silence and returned not an answer; [and
the] only [result of his interference was that] each of them
[FN#52] paid a thousand dinars.
So the sharper took the two thousand dinars and made off; and
when he was gone, the merchant said to his friend, the
[self-styled] man of wit and intelligence, 'Harkye, such an one!
Thou and I are like unto the hawk and the locust.' 'What was
their case?' asked the other; and the merchant said,
STORY OF THE HAWK AND THE LOCUST.
'There was once, of old time, a hawk who made himself a nest hard
by that of a locust, and the latter gloried in his neighbourhood
and betaking herself to him, saluted him and said, "O my lord and
chief of the birds, indeed the nearness unto thee delighteth me
and thou honourest me with thy neighbourhood and my soul is
fortified with thee." The hawk thanked her for this and there
ensued friendship between them. One day, the locust said to the
hawk, "O chief of the birds, how cometh it that I see thee alone,
solitary, having with thee no friend of thy kind of the birds, to
whom thou mayst incline in time of easance and of whom thou mayst
seek succour in time of stress? Indeed, it is said, 'Man goeth
about seeking the ease of his body and the preservation of his
strength, and in this there is nought more necessary to him than
a friend who shall be the completion of his gladness and the
mainstay of his life and on whom shall be his dependence in his
stress and in his ease.' Now I, albeit I ardently desire thy weal
in that which beseemeth thy condition, yet am I weak [and unable]
unto that which the soul craveth; but, if thou wilt give me
leave, I will seek out for thee one of the birds who shall be
conformable unto thee in thy body and thy strength." And the hawk
said, "I commit this to thee and rely upon thee therein."
Therewithal, O my brother, the locust fell to going round about
among the company of the birds, but saw nought resembling the
hawk in bulk and body save the kite and deemed well of her. So
she brought the hawk and the kite together and counselled the
former to make friends with the latter. Now it chanced that the
hawk fell sick and the kite abode with him a long while [and
tended him] till he recovered and became whole and strong;
wherefore he thanked her [and she departed from him]. But after
awhile the hawk's sickness returned to him and he needed the
kite's succour. So the locust went out from him and was absent
from him a day, after which she returned to him with a[nother]
locust, [FN#53] saying, "I have brought thee this one." When the
hawk saw her, he said, "God requite thee with good! Indeed, thou
hast done well in the quest and hast been subtle in the choice."
All this, O my brother,' continued the merchant, 'befell because
the locust had no knowledge of the secret essence that lieth hid
in apparent bodies. As for thee, O my brother, (may God requite
thee with good!) thou wast subtle in device and usedst
precaution; but precaution sufficeth not against fate, and
fortune fore-ordained baffleth contrivance. How excellent is the
saying of the poet! And he recited the following verses:
It chances whiles that the blind man escapes a pit, Whilst he who
is clear of sight falls into it.
The ignorant man may speak with impunity A word that is death to
the wise and the ripe of wit.
The true believer is pinched for his daily bread, Whilst infidel
rogues enjoy all benefit.
Where is a man's resource and what can he do? It is the
Almighty's will; we most submit.
Nor," added the vizier, "is this, O king of the age, more
extraordinary or stranger than the story of the king and his
chamberlain's wife; nay, the latter is rarer than this and more
delightsome."
When the king heard this story, he was fortified in his resolve
to spare the vizier and to leave haste in an affair whereof he
was not assured; so he comforted him and bade him withdraw to his
lodging.
The Twenty-Fourth Night of the Month.
When it was night, the king summoned the vizier and sought of him
the hearing of the [promised] story. "Hearkening and obedience,"
replied Er Rehwan, "Know, O august king, that
STORY OF THE KING AND HIS CHAMBERLAIN'S
WIFE.
There was once, of old days and in bygone ages and times, a king
of the kings of the Persians, who was passionately addicted to
the love of women. His courtiers bespoke him of the wife of a
chamberlain of his chamberlains, for that she was endowed with
beauty and loveliness and perfection, and this prompted him to go
in to her. When she saw him, she knew him and said to him, 'What
prompteth the king unto this that he doth?' And he answered,
saying, 'Verily, I yearn after thee with an exceeding yearning
and needs must I enjoy thy favours.' And he gave her of wealth
that after the like whereof women hanker; but she said, 'I cannot
do that whereof the king speaketh, for fear of my husband.' And
she refused herself to him with the most rigorous of refusals and
would not do his desire. So the king went out, full of wrath, and
forgot his girdle in the place.
Presently, her husband entered and saw the girdle and knew it.
Now he was ware of the king's love for women; so he said to his
wife, ' What is this that I see with thee?' Quoth she, 'I will
tell thee the truth,' and recounted to him the story; but he
believed her not and doubt entered into his heart. As for the
king, he passed that night in chagrin and concern, and when it
morrowed, he summoned the chamberlain and investing him with the
governance of one of his provinces, bade him betake himself
thither, purposing, after he should have departed and come to his
destination, to foregather with his wife. The chamberlain
perceived [his intent] and knew his design; so he answered,
saying, 'Hearkening and obedience. I will go and set my affairs
in order and give such charges as may be necessary for the
welfare of my estate; then will I go about the king's occasion.'
And the king said, 'Do this and hasten.'
So the chamberlain went about that which he needed and assembling
his wife's kinsfolk, said to them, 'I am resolved to put away my
wife.' They took this ill of him and complained of him and
summoning him before the king, sat pleading with him. Now the
king had no knowledge of that which had passed; so he said to the
chamberlain, 'Why wilt thou put her away and how can thy soul
consent unto this and why takest thou unto thyself a goodly piece
of land and after forsakest it? 'May God amend the king!'
answered the husband. 'By Allah, O king, I saw therein the track
of the lion and fear to enter the land, lest the lion devour me;
and indeed the like of my affair with her is that which befell
between the old woman and the draper's wife.' 'What is their
story?' asked the king; and the chamberlain said, 'Know, O king,
that
STORY OF THE OLD WOMAN AND THE DRAPER'S
WIFE.
There was once a man of the drapers, who had a fair wife, and she
was curtained [FN#54] and chaste. A certain young man saw her
coming forth of the bath and loved her and his heart was occupied
with her. So he cast about [to get access to her] with all manner
of devices, but availed not to win to her; and when he was weary
of endeavour and his patience was exhausted for weariness and his
fortitude failed him and he was at an end of his resources
against her, he complained of this to an old woman of ill-omen,
[FN#55] who promised him to bring about union between him and
her. He thanked her for this and promised her all manner of good;
and she said to him, "Get thee to her husband and buy of him a
turban-cloth of fine linen, and let it be of the goodliest of
stuffs."
So he repaired to the draper and buying of him a turban-cloth of
lawn, returned with it to the old woman, who took it and burned
it in two places. Then she donned devotees' apparel and taking
the turban-cloth with her, went to the draper's house and knocked
at the door. When the draper's wife saw her, she opened to her
and received her kindly and made much of her and welcomed her. So
the old woman went in to her and conversed with her awhile. Then
said she to her, "[I desire to make] the ablution [preparatory]
to prayer." So the wife brought her water and she made the
ablution and standing up to pray, prayed and did her occasion.
When she had made an end of her prayers, she left the
turban-cloth in the place of prayer and went away.
Presently, in came the draper, at the hour of evening prayer, and
sitting down in the place where the old woman had prayed, looked
about him and espied the turban. He knew it [for that which he
had that day sold to the young man] and misdoubted of the case,
wherefore anger appeared in his face and he was wroth with his
wife and reviled her and abode his day and his night, without
speaking to her, what while she knew not the cause of his anger.
Then she looked and seeing the turban-cloth before him and noting
the traces of burning thereon, understood that his anger was on
account of this and concluded that he was wroth because it was
burnt.
When the morning morrowed, the draper went out, still angered
against his wife, and the old woman returned to her and found her
changed of colour, pale of face, dejected and heart-broken. [So
she questioned her of the cause of her dejection and she told her
how her husband was angered against her (as she supposed) on
account of the burns in the turban-cloth.] "O my daughter,"
rejoined the old woman, "be not concerned; for I have a son, a
fine-drawer, and he, by thy life, shall fine-draw [the holes] and
restore the turban-cloth as it was. "The wife rejoiced in her
saying and said to her, "And when shall this be?" "To-morrow, if
it please God the Most High," answered the old woman, "I will
bring him to thee, at the time of thy husband's going forth from
thee, and he shall mend it and depart forth-right." Then she
comforted her heart and going forth from her, returned to the
young man and told him what had passed.
Now, when the draper saw the turban-cloth, he resolved to put
away his wife and waited but till he should get together that
which was obligatory on him of the dowry and what not
else,[FN#56] for fear of her people. When the old woman arose in
the morning, she took the young man and carried him to the
draper's house. The wife opened the door to her and the
ill-omened old woman entered with him and said to the lady, "Go,
fetch that which thou wouldst have fine-drawn and give it to my
son." So saying, she locked the door on her, whereupon the young
man forced her and did his occasion of her and went forth. Then
said the old woman to her, "Know that this is my son and that he
loved thee with an exceeding love and was like to lose his life
for longing after thee. So I practised on thee with this device
and came to thee with this turban-cloth, which is not thy
husband's, but my son's. Now have I accomplished my desire; so do
thou trust in me and I will put a trick on thy husband for the
setting thee right with him, and thou wilt be obedient to me and
to him and to my son."[FN#57] And the wife answered, saying, "It
is well. Do so."
So the old woman returned to the lover and said to him, "I have
skilfully contrived the affair for thee with her; [and now it
behoveth us to amend that we have marred]. So go now and sit with
the draper and bespeak him of the turban-cloth, [saying, 'The
turban-cloth I bought of thee I chanced to burn in two places; so
I gave it to a certain old woman, to get mended, and she took it
and went away, and I know not her dwelling-place.'] When thou
seest me pass by, rise and lay hold of me [and demand of me the
turban-cloth], to the intent that I may amend her case with her
husband and that thou mayst be even with her." So he repaired to
the draper's shop and sat down by him and said to him, "Thou
knowest the turban-cloth I bought of thee?" "Yes," answered the
draper, and the other said, "Knowest thou what is come of it?"
"No," replied the husband, and the youth said, "After I bought it
of thee, I fumigated myself[FN#58] and it befell that the
turban-cloth was burnt in two places. So I gave it to a woman,
whose son, they said, was a fine-drawer, and she took it and went
away with it; and I know not her abiding-place." When the draper
heard this, he misdoubted him [of having wrongly suspected his
wife] and marvelled at the story of the turban-cloth, and his
mind was set at ease concerning her.
Presently, up came the old woman, whereupon the young man sprang
to his feet and laying hold of her, demanded of her the
turban-cloth. Quoth she, "Know that I entered one of the houses
and made the ablution and prayed in the place of prayer; and I
forgot the turban-cloth there and went out. Now I know not the
house in which I prayed, nor have I been directed[FN#59] thereto,
and I go round about every day till the night, so haply I may
light on it, for I know not its owner." When the draper heard
this, he said to the old woman, "Verily, Allah restoreth unto
thee vhat which thou hast lost. Rejoice, for the turban-cloth is
with me and in my house." And he arose forthright and gave her
the turban-cloth, as it was. She gave it to the young man, and
the draper made his peace with his wife and gave her raiment and
jewellery, [by way of peace-offering], till she was content and
her heart was appeased. [FN#60]
When the king heard his chamberlain's story, he was confounded
and abashed and said to him, 'Abide on thy wonted service and
till thy land, for that the lion entered it, but marred it not,
and he will never more return thither.'[FN#61] Then he bestowed
on him a dress of honour and made him a sumptuous present; and
the man returned to his wife and people, rejoicing and glad, for
that his heart was set at rest concerning his wife. Nor," added
the vizier, "O king of the age, is this rarer or more
extraordinary than the story of the fair and lovely woman,
endowed with amorous grace, with the foul-favoured man."
When the king heard the vizier's speech, he deemed it goodly and
it pleased him; so he bade him go away to his house, and there he
abode his day long.
The Twenty-fifth Night of the Month.
When the evening evened, the king summoned his vizier and bade
him tell the [promised] story. So he said, "It is well. Know, O
king, that
STORY OF THE FOUL-FAVOURED MAN AND HIS
FAIR WIFE.
There was once a man of the Arabs who had a number of sons, and
amongst them a boy, never was seen a fairer than he of favour nor
a more accomplished in loveliness, no, nor a more perfect of wit.
When he came to man's estate, his father married him to the
daughter of one of his uncles, and she excelled not in beauty,
neither was she praiseworthy of attributes; wherefore she pleased
not the youth, but he bore with her, for kinship's sake.
One day, he went forth in quest of certain stray camels of his
and fared on all his day and night till eventide, when he [came
to an Arab encampment and] was fain to seek hospitality of one of
the inhabitants. So he alighted at one of the tents of the camp
and there came forth to him a man of short stature and loathly
aspect, who saluted him and lodging him in a corner of the tent,
sat entertaining him with talk, the goodliest that might be. When
his food was dressed, the Arab's wife brought it to the guest,
and he looked at the mistress of the tent and saw a favour than
which no goodlier might be. Indeed, her beauty and grace and
symmetry amazed him and he abode confounded, looking now at her
and now at her husband. When his looking grew long, the man said
to him, 'Harkye, O son of the worthy! Occupy thyself with thine
own concerns, for by me and this woman hangeth a rare story, that
is yet goodlier than that which thou seest of her beauty; and
when we have made an end of our food, I will tell it thee.'
So, when they had made an end of eating and drinking, the young
man asked his host for the story, and he said, 'Know that in my
youth I was even as thou seest me in the matter of loathliness
and foul favour; and I had brethren of the comeliest of the folk;
wherefore my father preferred them over me and used to show them
kindness, to my exclusion, and employ me, in their room [in
menial service], like as one employeth slaves. One day, a
she-camel of his went astray and he said to me, "Go thou forth in
quest of her and return not but with her." Quoth I, "Send other
than I of thy sons." But he would not consent to this and reviled
me and insisted upon me, till the matter came to such a pass with
him that he took a whip and fell to beating me. So I arose and
taking a riding-camel, mounted her and sallied forth at a
venture, purposing to go out into the deserts and return to him
no more. I fared on all my night [and the next day] and coming at
eventide to [the encampment of] this my wife's people, alighted
down with her father, who was a very old man, and became his
guest.
When the night was half spent, I arose [and went forth the tent]
to do an occasion of mine, and none knew of my case save this
woman. The dogs misdoubted of me and followed me and gave not
over besetting me, till I fell on my back into a deep pit,
wherein was water, and one of the dogs fell in with me. The
woman, who was then a girl in the first bloom of youth, full of
strength and spirit, was moved to pity on me, for that wherein I
was fallen, and coming to me with a rope, said to me, "Lay hold
of this rope." So I laid hold of the rope and clung to it and she
pulled me up; but, when I was halfway up, I pulled her [down] and
she fell with me into the pit; and there we abode three days, she
and I and the dog.
When her people arose in the morning and saw her not, they sought
her in the camp, but, finding her not and missing me also,
doubted not but she had fled with me. Now she had four brothers,
as they were falcons, and they mounted and dispersed in quest of
us. When the day dawned [on the fourth morning], the dog began to
bark and the other dogs answered him and coming to the mouth of
the pit, stood howling to him. My wife's father, hearing the
howling of the dogs, came up and standing at the brink of the
pit, [looked in and] beheld a marvel. Now he was a man of valour
and understanding, an elder versed[FN#62] in affairs so he
fetched a rope and bringing us both forth, questioned us of our
case. I told him all that had betided and he abode pondering the
affair.
Presently, her brothers returned, whereupon the old man
acquainted them with the whole case and said to them, "O my sons,
know that your sister purposed not aught but good, and if ye slay
this man, ye will earn abiding reproach and ye will wrong him,
ay, and wrong yourselves and your sister, to boot; for indeed
there appeareth no cause [of offence] such as calleth for
slaughter, and it may not be denied that this incident is a thing
the like whereof may well betide and that he may well have been
baffled by the like of this chance." Then he turned to me and
questioned me of my lineage; so I set forth to him my genealogy
and he said, "A man of equal rank, honourable [and]
understanding." And he offered me [his daughter in] marriage. I
consented to him of this and marrying her, took up my abode with
him and God the Most High hath opened on me the gates of weal and
fortune, so that I am become the most abounding in substance of
the folk of the tribe; and He hath stablished me in that which He
hath given me of His bounties.'
The young man marvelled at his story and lay the night with him;
and when he arose in the morning, he found his strays. So he took
them and returning [to his family.], acquainted them with what he
had seen and that which had betided him. Nor," added the vizier,
"is this more marvellous or rarer than the story of the king who
lost kingdom and wealth and wife and children and God restored
them unto him and requited him with a kingdom more magnificent
than that which he had lost and goodlier and rarer and greater of
wealth and elevation."
The vizier's story pleased the king and he bade depart to his
dwelling.
The Twenty-Sixth Night of the Month.
When came the night, the king summoned his vizier and bade him
tell the story of the king who lost kingdom and wife and wealth.
"Hearkening and obedience," replied Er Rehwan. "Know, O king,
that
STORY OF THE KING WHO LOST KINGDOM AND
WIFE AND WEALTH AND GOD RESTORED THEM TO
HIM.
There was once a king of the kings of Hind, who was goodly of
polity, praiseworthy in administration, just to his subjects,
beneficent to men of learning and piety and asceticism and
devoutness and worship and shunning traitors and froward folk and
those of lewd life. On this wise of polity he abode in his
kingship what God the Most High willed of days and hours and
years, and he married the daughter of his father's brother, a
beautiful and lovesome woman, endowed with brightness and
perfection, who had been reared in the king's house in splendour
and delight. She bore him two sons, the comeliest that might be
of boys. Then came fore-ordained fate, which there is no warding
off, and God the Most High raised up against the king another
king, who came forth upon his realm, and all the folk of the
city, who had a mind unto evil and lewdness, joined themselves
unto him. So he fortified himself against the king and made
himself master of his kingdom, putting his troops to the rout and
slaying his guards.
The king took his wife, the mother of his sons, and what he might
[of good] and saved himself and fled in the darkness of the
night, unknowing whither he should go. When travel grew sore upon
them, there met them robbers by the way, who took all that was
with them, [even to their clothes], so that there was left unto
each of them but a shirt and trousers; yea, they left them
without victual or camels or [other] riding-cattle, and they
ceased not to fare on afoot, till they came to a coppice, to wit,
a garden of trees, on the shore of the sea. Now the road which
they would have followed was crossed by an arm of the sea, but it
was scant of water. So, when they came to that place, the king
took up one of his children and fording the water with him, set
him down on the other bank and returned for his other son. Him
also he set by his brother and returning for their mother, took
her up and passing the water with her, came to the place [where
he had left his children], but found them not. Then he looked at
the midst of the island and saw there an old man and an old
woman, engaged in making themselves a hut of reeds. So he put
down his wife over against them and set off in quest of his
children, but none gave him news of them and he went round about
right and left, but found not the place where they were.
Now the children had entered the coppice, to make water, and
there was there a forest of trees, wherein, if a horseman
entered, he might wander by the week, [before finding his way
out], for none knew the first thereof from the last. So the boys
entered therein and knew not how they should return and went
astray in that wood, to an end that was willed of God the Most
High, whilst their father sought them, but found them not. So he
returned to their mother and they abode weeping for their
children. As for these latter, when they entered the wood, it
swallowed them up and they went wandering in it many days,
knowing not where they had entered, till they came forth, at
another side, upon the open country.
Meanwhile, the king and queen abode in the island, over against
the old man and woman, and ate of the fruits that were in the
island and drank of its waters, till, one day, as they sat, there
came a ship and moored to the side of the island, to fill up with
water, whereupon they[FN#63] looked at each other and spoke. The
master of the ship was a Magian and all that was therein, both
men and goods, belonged to him, for that he was a merchant and
went round about the world. Now covetise deluded the old man, the
owner of the island, and he went up [into the ship] and gave the
Magian news of the king's wife, setting out to him her charms,
till he made him yearn unto her and his soul prompted him to use
treachery and practise upon her and take her from her hnsband. So
he sent to her, saying, 'With us in the ship is a woman with
child, and we fear lest she be delivered this night. Hast thou
skill in the delivering of women?' And she answered, 'Yes.' Now
it was the last of the day; so he sent to her to come up into the
ship and deliver the woman, for that the pangs of labour were
come upon her; and he promised her clothes and spending-money.
Accordingly, she embarked in all assurance, with a heart at ease
for herself, and transported her gear to the ship; but no sooner
was she come thither than the anchors were weighed and the canvas
spread and the ship set sail.
When the king saw this, he cried out and his wife wept in the
ship and offered to cast herself into the sea; but the Magian
bade the sailors lay hands on her. So they seized her and it was
but a little while ere the night darkened and the ship
disappeared from the king's eyes; whereupon he swooned away for
excess of weeping and lamentation and passed his night bewailing
his wife and children.
When the morning morrowed, he recited the following verses:
How long, O Fate, wilt thou oppress and baffle me?
Tell me, was ever yet a mortal spared of thee?
Behold, my loved ones all are ta'en from me away.
They left me and content forthright forsook my heart,
Upon that day my loves my presence did depart;
My pleasant life for loss of friends is troubled aye.
By Allah, I knew not their worth nor yet how dear
A good it is to have one's loved ones ever near,
Until they left my heart on fire without allay.
Ne'er shall I them forget, nay, nor the day they went
And left me all forlorn, to pine for languishment,
My severance to bewail in torment and dismay.
I make a vow to God, if ever day or night
The herald of good news my hearing shall delight,
Announcing the return o' th' absent ones,
I'll lay Upon their threshold's dust my cheeks and to my soul,
"Take comfort, for the loved are come again,"
I'll say. If for my loved ones' loss I rent my heart for dole,
Before I rent my clothes, reproach me not, I pray.
He abode weeping for the loss of his wife and children till the
morning, when he went forth wandering at a venture, knowing not
what he should do, and gave not over faring along the sea-shore
days and nights, unknowing whither he went and taking no food
therein other than the herbs of the earth and seeing neither man
nor beast nor other living thing, till his travel brought him to
the top of a mountain. He took up his sojourn in the mountain and
abode there [awhile] alone, eating of its fruits and drinking of
its waters. Then he came down thence and fared on along the high
road three days, at the end of which time he came upon tilled
fields and villages and gave not over going till he sighted a
great city on the shore of the sea and came to the gate thereof
at the last of the day. The gatekeepers suffered him not to
enter; so he abode his night anhungred, and when he arose in the
morning, be sat down hard by the gate.
Now the king of the city was dead and had left no son, and the
townsfolk fell out concerning who should be king over them: and
their sayings differed and their counsels, so that turmoil was
like to betide between them by reason of this. At last, after
long dissension, they came to an accord and agreed to leave the
choice to the late king's elephant and that he unto whom he
consented should be king and that they would not contest the
commandment with him. So they made oath of this and on the
morrow, they brought out the elephant and came forth to the
utterward of the city; nor was there man or woman left in the
place but was present at that time. Then they adorned the
elephant and setting up the throne on his back, gave him the
crown in his trunk; and he went round about examining the faces
of the folk, but stopped not with any of them till he came to the
banished king, the forlorn, the exile, him who had lost his
children and his wife, when he prostrated himself to him and
placing the crown on his head, took him up and set him on his
back.
Thereupon the folk all prostrated themselves and gave one another
joy of this and the drums of good tidings beat before him, and he
entered the city [and went on] till he came to the House of
Justice and the audience-hall of the palace and sat down on the
throne of the kingdom, with the crown on his head; whereupon the
folk came in to him to give him joy and offer up prayers for him.
Then he addressed himself, after his wont in the kingship, to
ordering the affairs of the folk and ranging the troops according
to their ranks and looking into their affairs and those of all
the people. Moreover, he released those who were in the prisons
and abolished the customs dues and gave dresses of honour and
bestowed gifts and largesse and conferred favours on the amirs
and viziers and dignitaries, and the chamberlains and deputies
presented themselves before him and did him homage. So the people
of the city rejoiced in him and said, 'Indeed this is none other
than a king of the greatest of the kings.'
Moreover, he assembled the sages and the theologians and the sons
of the kings and devised with them and asked them questions and
problems and examined with them into many things of all fashions
that might direct him to well-doing in the kingly office; and he
questioned them also of subtleties and religious obligations and
of the laws of the kingdom and the fashions of administration and
of that which it behoveth the king to do of looking into the
affairs of the people and repelling the enemy [from the realm]
and fending off his malice with war; wherefore the people's
contentment redoubled and their joy in that which God the Most
High had vouchsafed them of his elevation to the kingship over
them. So he upheld the ordinance of the realm and the affairs
thereof abode established upon the accepted customs.
Now the late king had left a wife and a daughter, and the people
would fain have married the latter to the new king, to the intent
that the kingship might not pass out of the old royal family. So
they proposed to him that he should take her to wife, and he
promised them this, but put them off from him,[FN#64] of his
respect for the covenant he had made with his former wife, to
wit, that he would take none other to wife than herself. Then he
betook himself to fasting by day and standing up by night [to
pray], giving alms galore and beseeching God (extolled be His
perfection and exalted be He!) to reunite him with his children
and his wife, the daughter of his father's brother.
When a year had elapsed, there came to the city a ship, wherein
were merchants and goods galore. Now it was of their usance, from
time immemorial, that, when there came a ship to the city, the
king sent unto it such of his servants as he trusted in, who took
charge of the goods, so they might be [first of all] shown to the
king, who bought such of them as befitted him and gave the
merchants leave to sell the rest. So he sent, as of wont, one who
should go up to the ship and seal up the goods and set over them
who should keep watch over them.
To return to the queen his wife. When the Magian fled with her,
he proffered himself to her and lavished unto her wealth galore,
but she rejected his suit and was like to slay herself for
chagrin at that which had befallen and for grief for her
separation from her husband. Moreover, she refused meat and drink
and offered to cast herself into the sea; but the Magian shackled
her and straitened her and clad her in a gown of wool and said to
her, 'I will continue thee in misery and abjection till thou obey
me and consent to my wishes.' So she took patience and looked for
God to deliver her from the hand of that accursed one; and she
ceased not to travel with him from place to place till he came
with her to the city wherein her husband was king and his goods
were put under seal.
Now the woman was in a chest and two youths of the pages of the
late king, who were now in the new king's service, were those who
had been charged with the guardianship of the vessel and the
goods. When the evening evened on them, the two youths fell
a-talking and recounted that which had befallen them in their
days of childhood and the manner of the going forth of their
father and mother from their country and royal estate, whenas the
wicked overcame their land, and [called to mind] how they had
gone astray in the forest and how fate had made severance between
them and their parents; brief, they recounted their story, from
beginning to end. When the woman heard their talk, she knew that
they were her very sons and cried out to them from the chest,
saying, 'I am your mother such an one, and the token between you
and me is thus and thus.' The young men knew the token and
falling upon the chest, broke the lock and brought out their
mother, who strained them to her breast, and they fell upon her
and swooned away, all three.
When they came to themselves, they wept awhile and the folk
assembled about them, marvelling at that which they saw, and
questioned them of their case. So the young men vied with each
other who should be the first to discover the story to the folk;
and when the Magian saw this, he came up, crying out, 'Alas!' and
'Woe worth the day!' and said to them, 'Why have ye broken open
my chest? I had in it jewels and ye have stolen them, and this
damsel is my slave-girl and she hath agreed with you upon a
device to take the good.' Then he rent his clothes and called
aloud for succour, saying, 'I appeal to God and to the just king,
so he may quit me of these wrong-doing youths!' Quoth they, 'This
is our mother and thou stolest her.' Then words waxed many
between them and the folk plunged into talk and prate and
discussion concerning their affair and that of the [pretended]
slave-girl, and the strife waxed amain between them, so that [at
last] they carried them up to the king.
When the two young men presented themselves before him and set
forth their case to him and to the folk and the king heard their
speech, he knew them and his heart was like to fly for joyance in
them: the tears poured from his eyes at their sight and that of
his wife, and he thanked God the Most High and praised Him for
that He had reunited [him with] them. Then he dismissed the folk
who were present about him and bade commit the Magian and the
woman and the two youths to his armoury[FN#65] [for the night],
commanding that they should keep guard over them till God caused
the morning morrow, so he might assemble the cadis and the judges
and assessors and judge between them, according to the Holy Law,
in the presence of the four cadis. So they did his bidding and
the king passed the night praying and praising God the Most High
for that which He had vouchsafed him of kingship and puissance
and victory over[FN#66] him who had wronged him and thanking Him
who had reunited him with his family.
When the morning morrowed, he assembled the cadis and judges and
assessors and sending for the Magian and the two youths and their
mother, questioned them of their case, whereupon the two young
men began and said, 'We are the sons of the king Such-an-one and
enemies and wicked men got the mastery of out realm; so our
father fled forth with us and wandered at a venture, for fear of
the enemies.' [And they recounted to him all that had betided
them, from beginning to end.] Quoth he, 'Ye tell a marvellous
story; but what hath [Fate] done with your father?' 'We know not
how fortune dealt with him after our loss,' answered they; and he
was silent.
Then he turned to the woman and said to her, 'And thou, what
sayst thou?' So she expounded to him her case and recounted to
him all that had betided her and her husband, first and last, up
to the time when they took up their abode with the old man and
woman who dwelt on the sea-shore. Then she set out that which the
Magian had practised on her of knavery and how he had carried her
off in the ship and all that had betided her of humiliation and
torment, what while the cadis and judges and deputies hearkened
to her speech. When the king heard the last of his wife's story,
he said, 'Verily, there hath betided thee a grievous matter; but
hast thou knowledge of what thy husband did and what came of his
affair?' 'Nay, by Allah,' answered she; 'I have no knowledge of
him, save that I leave him no hour unremembered in fervent
prayer, and never, whilst I live, will he cease to be to me the
father of my children and my father's brother's son and my flesh
and my blood.' Then she wept and the king bowed his head, whilst
his eyes brimmed over with tears at her story.
Then he raised his head to the Magian and said to him, 'Say thy
say, thou also.' So the Magian said, 'This is my slave-girl, whom
I bought with my money from such a land and for so many dinars,
and I made her my favourite[FN#67] and loved her with an
exceeding love and gave her charge over my good; but she betrayed
me in my substance and plotted with one of my servants to slay
me, tempting him by promising him that she would be his wife.
When I knew this of her and was certified that she purposed
treason against me, I awoke [from my heedlessness] and did with
her that which I did, of fear for myself from her craft and
perfidy; for indeed she is a beguiler with her tongue and she
hath taught these two youths this pretence, by way of trickery
and of her perfidy and malice: so be thou not deluded by her and
by her talk.'
'Thou liest, O accursed one,' cried the king and bade lay hands
on him and clap him in irons. Then he turned to the two youths,
his sons, and strained them to his breast, weeping sore and
saying, 'O all ye who are present of cadis and assessors and
officers of state, know that these twain are my sons and that
this is my wife and the daughter of my father's brother; for that
I was king aforetime in such a region.' And he recounted to them
his history from beginning to end, nor is there aught of profit
in repetition; whereupon the folk cried out with weeping and
lamentation for the stress of that which they heard of marvellous
chances and that rare story. As for the king's wife, he caused
carry her into his palace and lavished upon her and upon her sons
all that behoved and beseemed them of bounties, whilst the folk
flocked to offer up prayers for him and give him joy of [his
reunion with] his wife and children.
When they had made an end of pious wishes and congratulations,
they besought the king to hasten the punishment of the Magian and
heal their hearts of him with torment and humiliation. So he
appointed them for a day on which they should assemble to witness
his punishment and that which should betide him of torment, and
shut himself up with his wife and sons and abode thus private
with them three days, during which time they were sequestered
from the folk. On the fourth day the king entered the bath, and
coming forth, sat down on the throne of his kingship, with the
crown on his head, whereupon the folk came in to him, according
to their wont and after the measure of their several ranks and
degrees, and the amirs and viziers entered, ay, and the
chamberlains and deputies and captains and men of war and the
falconers and armbearers. Then he seated his two sons, one on his
right and the other on his left hand, whilst all the folk stood
before him and lifted up their voices in thanksgiving to God the
Most High and glorification of Him and were strenuous in prayer
for the king and in setting forth his virtues and excellences.
He returned them the most gracious of answers and bade carry the
Magian forth of the town and set him on a high scaffold that had
been builded for him there; and he said to the folk, 'Behold, I
will torture him with all kinds of fashions of torment.' Then he
fell to telling them that which he had wrought of knavery with
the daughter of his father's brother and what he had caused
betide her of severance between her and her husband and how he
had required her of herself, but she had sought refuge against
him with God (to whom belong might and majesty) and chose rather
humiliation than yield to his wishes, notwithstanding stress of
torment; neither recked she aught of that which he lavished to
her of wealth and raiment and jewels.
When the king had made an end of his story, he bade the
bystanders spit in the Magian's face and curse him; and they did
this. Then he bade cut out his tongue and on the morrow he bade
cut off his ears and nose and pluck out his eyes. On the third
day he bade cut off his hands and on the fourth his feet; and
they ceased not to lop him limb from limb, and each member they
cast into the fire, after its cutting-off, before his face, till
his soul departed, after he had endured torments of all kinds and
fashions. The king bade crucify his trunk on the city-wall three
days' space; after which he let burn it and reduce its ashes to
powder and scatter them abroad in the air.
Then the king summoned the cadi and the witnesses and bade them
many the old king's daughter and sister to his own sons; so they
married them, after the king had made a bride-feast three days
and displayed their brides to them from eventide to peep of day.
Then the two princes went in to their brides and did away their
maidenhead and loved them and were vouchsafed children by them.
As for the king their father, he abode with his wife, their
mother, what while God (to whom belong might and majesty) willed,
and they rejoiced in reunion with each other. The kingship
endured unto them and glory and victory, and the king continued
to rule with justice and equity, so that the people loved him and
still invoked on him and on his sons length of days and durance;
and they lived the most delightsome of lives till there came to
them the Destroyer of Delights and Sunderer of Companies, He who
layeth waste the palaces and peopleth the tombs; and this is all
that hath come down to us of the story of the king and his wife
and children. Nor," added the vizier, "if this story be a solace
and a diversion, is it pleasanter or more diverting than that of
the young man of Khorassan and his mother and sister."
When King Shah Bekht heard this story, it pleased him and he bade
the vizier go away to his own house.
The Twenty-Seventh Night of the Month
When the evening came, the king bade fetch the vizier; so he
presented himself before him and the king bade him tell the
[promised] story. So he said, "Hearkening and obedience. Know, O
king (but God alone knoweth His secret purpose and is versed in
all that is past and was foredone among bygone peoples), that
STORY OF SELIM AND SELMA.
There was once, in the parts of Khorassan, a man of the affluent
of the country, who was a merchant of the chiefest of the
merchants and was blessed with two children, a son and a
daughter. He was assiduous in rearing them and making fair their
education, and they grew up and throve after the goodliest
fashion. He used to teach the boy, who taught his sister all that
he learnt, so that the girl became perfect in the knowledge of
the Traditions of the Prophet and in polite letters, by means of
her brother. Now the boy's name was Selim and that of the girl
Selma. When they grew up and waxed, their father built them a
mansion beside his own and lodged them apart therein and
appointed them slave-girls and servants to tend them and assigned
unto each of them pensions and allowances and all that they
needed of high and low, meat and bread and wine and raiment and
vessels and what not else. So Selim and Selma abode in that
mansion, as they were one soul in two bodies, and they used to
sleep on one couch; and rooted in each one's heart was love and
affection and familiar friendship [for the other of them].
One night, when the night was half spent, as Selim and Selma sat
talking and devising with each other, they heard a noise below
the house; so they looked out from a lattice that gave upon the
gate of their father's mansion and saw a man of goodly presence,
whose clothes were hidden by a wide cloak, which covered him. He
came up to the gate and laying hold of the door-ring, gave a
light knock; whereupon the door opened and out came their sister,
with a lighted flambeau, and after her their mother, who saluted
the stranger and embraced him, saying, 'O beloved of my heart and
light of mine eyes and fruit of mine entrails, enter.' So he
entered and shut the door, whilst Selim and Selma abode amazed.
Then Selim turned to Selma and said to her, 'O sister mine, how
deemest thou of this calamity and what counsellest thou
thereanent?' 'O my brother,' answered she, 'indeed I know not
what I shall say concerning the like of this; but he is not
disappointed who seeketh direction [of God], nor doth he repent
who taketh counsel. One getteth not the better of the traces of
burning by[FN#68] haste, and know that this is an affliction that
hath descended on us; and we have need of management to do it
away, yea, and contrivance to wash withal our shame from our
faces.' And they gave not over watching the gate till break of
day, when the young man opened the door and their mother took
leave of him; after which he went his way and she entered, she
and her handmaid.
Then said Selim to his sister, 'Know that I am resolved to slay
yonder man, if he return this next night, and I will say to the
folk, "He was a thief," and none shall know that which hath
befallen. Moreover, I will address myself to the slaughter of
whosoever knoweth that which is between yonder fellow and my
mother.' But Selma said, ' I fear lest, if thou slay him in our
dwelling-place and he savour not of robberhood,[FN#69] suspicion
will revert upon ourselves, and we cannot be assured but that he
belongeth unto folk whose mischief is to be feared and their
hostility dreaded,[FN#70] and thus wilt thou have fled from privy
shame to open shame and abiding public dishonour.' 'How then
deemest thou we should do?' asked Selim and she said, 'Is there
nothing for it but to slay him? Let us not hasten unto slaughter,
for that the slaughter of a soul without just cause is a grave
[matter].'
(When Shehriyar heard this, he said in himself, 'By Allah, I have
indeed been reckless in the slaying of women and girls, and
praised be God who hath occupied me with this damsel from the
slaughter of souls, for that the slaughter of souls is a grave
[matter!] By Allah, if Shah Bekht spare the vizier, I will
assuredly spare Shehrzad!' Then he gave ear to the story and
heard her say to her sister:)
Quoth Selma to Selim, 'Hasten not to slay him, but ponder the
matter and consider the issue to which it may lead; for whoso
considereth not the issues [of his actions], fortune is no friend
to him.' Then they arose on the morrow and occupied themselves
with devising how they should turn away their mother from that
man, and she forebode mischief from them, by reason of that which
she saw in their eyes of alteration, for that she was keen of wit
and crafty. So she took precaution for herself against her
children and Selma said to Selim, 'Thou seest that whereinto we
have fallen through this woman, and indeed she hath gotten wind
of our purpose and knoweth that we have discovered her secret.
So, doubtless, she will plot against us the like of that which we
plot for her; for indeed up to now she had concealed her affair,
and now she will forge lies against us; wherefore, methinks,
there is a thing [fore-]written to us, whereof God (extolled be
His perfection and exalted be He!) knew in His foreknowledge and
wherein He executeth His ordinances.' 'What is that?' asked he,
and she said, 'It is that we arise, I and thou, and go forth this
night from this land and seek us a land wherein we may live and
witness nought of the doings of yonder traitress; for whoso is
absent from the eye is absent from the heart, and quoth one of
the poets in the following verse:
Twere better and meeter thy presence to leave, For, if the eye
see not, the heart doth not grieve.'
Quoth Selim to her, 'It is for thee to decide and excellent is
that which thou counsellest; so let us do this, in the name of
God the Most High, trusting in Him for grace and guidance.' So
they arose and took the richest of their clothes and the lightest
of that which was in their treasuries of jewels and things of
price and gathered together a great matter. Then they equipped
them ten mules and hired them servants of other than the people
of the country; and Selim bade his sister Selma don man's
apparel. Now she was the likest of all creatures to him, so that,
[when she was clad in man's attire,] the folk knew no difference
between them, extolled be the perfection of Him who hath no like,
there is no God but He! Then he bade her mount a horse, whilst he
himself bestrode another, and they set out, under cover of the
night. None of their family nor of the people of their house knew
of them; so they fared on into the wide world of God and gave not
over going night and day two months' space, at the end of which
time they came to a city on the sea-shore of the land of Mekran,
by name Es Sherr, and it is the first city in Sind.
They lighted down without the place and when they arose in the
morning, they saw a populous and goodly city, fair of seeming and
great, abounding in trees and streams and fruits and wide of
suburbs. So the young man said to his sister Selma, 'Abide thou
here in thy place, till I enter the city and examine it and make
assay of its people and seek out a place which we may buy and
whither we may remove. If it befit us, we will take up our abode
therein, else will we take counsel of departing elsewhither.'
Quoth she, 'Do this, trusting in the bounty of God (to whom
belong might and majesty) and in His blessing.'
So he took a belt, wherein were a thousand dinars, and binding it
about his middle, entered the city and gave not over going round
about its streets and markets and gazing upon its houses and
sitting with those of its folk whose aspect bespoke them men of
worth, till the day was half spent, when he resolved to return to
his sister and said in himself, 'Needs must I buy what we may eat
of ready-[dressed] food] I and my sister.' Accordingly, he
accosted a man who sold roast meat and who was clean [of person],
though odious in his [means of getting a] living, and said to
him, 'Take the price of this dish [of meat] and add thereto of
fowls and chickens and what not else is in your market of meats
and sweetmeats and bread and arrange it in dishes.' So the cook
set apart for him what he desired and calling a porter, laid it
in his basket, and Selim paid the cook the price of his wares,
after the fullest fashion.
As he was about to go away, the cook said to him, 'O youth,
doubtless thou art a stranger?' And he answered, 'Yes.' Quoth the
cook, 'It is reported in one of the Traditions [of the Prophet
that he said,] "Loyal admonition is [a part] of religion;" and
the understanding say, "Admonition is of the characteristics of
the true believers." And indeed that which I have seen of thy
fashions pleaseth me and I would fain give thee a warning.'
'Speak out thy warning,' rejoined Selim, 'and may God strengthen
thine affair!' Then said the cook, 'Know, O my son, that in this
our country, whenas a stranger entereth therein and eateth of
flesh-meat and drinketh not old wine thereon, this is harmful
unto him and engendereth in him dangerous disorders. Wherefore,
if thou have provided thee somewhat thereof,[FN#71] [it is well;]
but, if not, look thou procure it, ere thou take the meat and
carry it away.' 'May God requite thee with good!' rejoined Selim.
'Canst thou direct me where it is sold?' And the cook said, 'With
me is all that thou seekest thereof.' 'Is there a way for me to
see it?' asked the young man; and the cook sprang up and said,
'Pass on.' So he entered and the cook showed him somewhat of
wine; but he said, 'I desire better than this.' Whereupon he
opened a door and entering, said to Selim, 'Enter and follow me.'
Selim followed him till he brought him to an underground chamber
and showed him somewhat of wine that was to his mind. So he
occupied him with looking upon it and taking him at unawares,
sprang upon him from behind and cast him to the earth and sat
upon his breast. Then he drew a knife and set it to his jugular;
whereupon there betided Selim [that wherewithal] God made him
forget all that He had decreed [unto him],[FN#72] and he said to
the cook, 'Why dost thou this thing, O man? Be mindful of God the
Most High and fear Him. Seest thou not that I am a stranger? And
indeed [I have left] behind me a defenceless woman. Why wilt thou
slay me?' Quoth the cook, 'Needs must I slay thee, so I may take
thy good.' And Selim said, 'Take my good, but slay me not,
neither enter into sin against me; and do with me kindness, for
that the taking of my money is lighter[FN#73] than the taking of
my life.'
'This is idle talk,' answered the cook. 'Thou canst not deliver
thyself with this, O youth, for that in thy deliverance is my
destruction.' Quoth Selim, 'I swear to thee and give thee the
covenant of God (to whom belong might and majesty) and His bond,
that He took of His prophets, that I will not discover thy secret
ever.' But the cook answered, saying, 'Away! Away! This may no
wise be.' However, Selim ceased not to conjure him and make
supplication to him and weep, while the cook persisted in his
intent to slaughter him. Then he wept and recited the following
verses:
Haste not to that thou dost desire, for haste is still unblest;
Be merciful to men, as thou on mercy reckonest;
For no hand is there but the hand of God is over it And no
oppressor but shall be with worse than he opprest.
Quoth the cook, 'Nothing will serve but I must slay thee, O
fellow; for, if I spare thee, I shall myself be slain.' But Selim
said, 'O my brother, I will counsel thee somewhat[FN#74] other
than this.' 'What is it?' asked the cook. 'Say and be brief, ere
I cut thy throat' And Selim said, '[Do thou suffer me to live
and] keep me, that I may be a servant unto thee, and I will work
at a craft, of the crafts of the skilled workmen, wherefrom there
shall return to thee every day two dinars.' Quoth the cook, 'What
is the craft?' and Selim said, 'The cutting [and polishing] of
jewels.'
When the cook heard this, he said in himself, 'It will do me no
hurt if I imprison him and shackle him and bring him what he may
work at. If he tell truth, I will let him live, and if he prove a
liar, I will slay him.' So he took a pair of stout shackles and
clapping them on Selim's legs, imprisoned him within his house
and set over him one who should guard him. Then he questioned him
of what tools he needed to work withal. Selim set forth to him
that which he required, and the cook went out from him and
presently returning, brought him all he needed. So Selim sat and
wrought at his craft; and he used every day to earn two dinars;
and this was his wont and usance with the cook, whilst the latter
fed him not but half his fill.
To return to his sister Selma. She awaited him till the last of
the day, but he came not; and she awaited him a second day and a
third and a fourth, yet there came no news of him, wherefore she
wept and beat with her hands on her breast and bethought her of
her affair and her strangerhood and her brother's absence; and
she recited the following verses:
Peace on thee! Would our gaze might light on thee once more! So
should our hearts be eased and eyes no longer sore.
Thou only art the whole of our desire; indeed Thy love is hid
within our hearts' most secret core.
She abode awaiting him thus till the end of the month, but
discovered no tidings of him neither happened upon aught of his
trace; wherefore she was troubled with an exceeding perturbation
and despatching her servants hither and thither in quest of him,
abode in the sorest that might be of grief and concern. When it
was the beginning of the new month, she arose in the morning and
bidding cry him throughout the city, sat to receive visits of
condolence, nor was there any in the city but betook himself to
her, to condole with her; and they were all concerned for her,
nothing doubting but she was a man.
When three nights had passed over her with their days of the
second month, she despaired of him and her tears dried not up.
Then she resolved to take up her abode in the city and making
choice of a dwelling, removed thither. The folk resorted to her
from all parts, to sit with her and hearken to her speech and
witness her good breeding; nor was it but a little while ere the
king of the city died and the folk fell out concerning whom they
should invest with the kingship after him, so that strife was
like to betide between them. However, the men of judgment and
understanding and the folk of experience counselled them to make
the youth king who had lost his brother, for that they doubted
not but Selma was a man. They all consented unto this and
betaking themselves to Selma, proffered her the kingship. She
refused, but they were instant with her, till she consented,
saying in herself, 'My sole desire in [accepting] the kingship is
[to find] my brother.' Then they seated her on the throne of the
kingdom and set the crown on her head, whereupon she addressed
herself to the business of administration and to the ordinance of
the affairs of the people; and they rejoiced in her with the
utmost joy.
Meanwhile, Selim abode with the cook a whole year's space,
earning him two dinars every day; and when his affair was
prolonged, the cook inclined unto him and took compassion on him,
on condition that, if he let him go, he should not discover his
fashion to the Sultan, for that it was his wont every little
while to entrap a man and carry him to his house and slay him and
take his money and cook his flesh and give it to the folk to eat.
So he said to him, 'O youth, wilt thou that I release thee from
this thy plight, on condition that thou be reasonable and
discover not aught of thine affair ever?' And Selim answered, 'I
will swear to thee by whatsoever oath thou choosest that I will
keep thy secret and will not speak one syllable against thy due,
what while I abide on life.' Quoth the cook, 'I purpose to send
thee forth with my brother and cause thee travel with him on the
sea, on condition that thou be unto him a boughten slave; and
when he cometh to the land of Hind, he shall sell thee and thus
wilt thou be delivered from prison and slaughter.' And Selim
said, 'It is well: be it as thou sayst, may God the Most High
requite thee with good!'
Therewithal the cook equipped his brother and freighting him a
ship, embarked therein merchandise. Then he committed Selim unto
him and they set out and departed with the ship. God decreed them
safety, so that they arrived [in due course] at the first city
[of the land of Hind], the which is known as El Mensoureh, and
cast anchor there. Now the king of that city had died, leaving a
daughter and a widow, who was the quickest-witted of women and
gave out that the girl was a boy, so that the kingship might be
stablished unto them. The troops and the amirs doubted not but
that the case was as she avouched and that the princess was a
male child; so they obeyed her and the queen mother took order
for the matter and used to dress the girl in man's apparel and
seat her on the throne of the kingship, so that the folk might
see her. Accordingly, the grandees of the kingdom and the chief
officers of the realm used to go in to her and salute her and do
her service and go away, nothing doubting but she was a boy.
On this wise they abode months and years and the queen-mother
ceased not to do thus till the cook's brother came to the town in
his ship, and with him Selim. So he landed with the youth and
showed him to the queen, [that she might buy him]. When she saw
him, she augured well of him; so she bought him from the cook's
brother and was kind to him and entreated him with honour. Then
she fell to proving him in his parts and making assay of him in
his affairs and found in him all that is in kings' sons of
understanding and breeding and goodly manners and qualities.
So she sent for him in private and said to him, 'I purpose to do
thee a service, so thou canst but keep a secret.' He promised her
all that she desired and she discovered to him her secret in the
matter of her daughter, saying, 'I will marry thee to her and
commit to thee the governance of her affair and make thee king
and ruler over this city.' He thanked her and promised to uphold
all that she should order him, and she said to him, 'Go forth to
such an one of the neighbouring provinces privily.' So he went
forth and on the morrow she made ready bales and gear and
presents and bestowed on him a great matter, all of which they
loaded on the backs of camels.
Then she gave out among the folk that the king's father's
brother's son was come and bade the grandees and troops go forth
to meet him. Moreover, she decorated the city in his honour and
the drums of good tidings beat for him, whilst all the king's
household [went out to meet him and] dismounting before him,
[escorted him to the city and] lodged him with the queen-mother
in her palace. Then she bade the chiefs of the state attend his
assembly; so they presented themselves before him and saw of his
breeding and accomplishments that which amazed them and made them
forget the breeding of those who had foregone him of the kings.
When they were grown familiar with him, the queen-mother fell to
sending [privily] for the amirs, one by one, and swearing them to
secrecy; and when she was assured of their trustworthiness, she
discovered to them that the king had left but a daughter and that
she had done this but that she might continue the kingship in his
family and that the governance should not go forth from them;
after which she told them that she was minded to marry her
daughter with the new-comer, her father's brother's son, and that
he should be the holder of the kingship. They approved of her
proposal and when she had discovered the secret to the last of
them [and assured herself of their support], she published the
news abroad and sent for the cadis and assessors, who drew up the
contract of marriage between Selim and the princess, and they
lavished gifts upon the troops and overwhelmed them with
bounties. Then was the bride carried in procession to the young
man and the kingship was stablished unto him and the governance
of the realm.
On this wise they abode a whole year, at the end of which time
Selim said to the queen-mother, 'Know that my life is not
pleasing to me nor can I abide with you in contentment till I get
me tidings of my sister and learn in what issue her affair hath
resulted and how she hath fared after me. Wherefore I will go and
be absent from you a year's space; then will I return to you, so
it please God the Most High and I accomplish of this that which I
hope.' Quoth she, 'I will not trust to thy word, but will go with
thee and help thee to that which thou desirest of this and
further thee myself therein.' So she took a ship and loaded it
with all manner things of price, goods and treasures and what not
else. Moreover, she appointed one of the viziers, a man in whom
she trusted and in his fashion and ordinance, to rule the realm
in their absence, saying to him, 'Abide [in the kingship] a
full-told year and ordain all that whereof thou hast need.
Then the old queen and her daughter and son-in-law embarked in
the ship and setting sail, fared on till they came to the land of
Mekran. Their arrival there befell at the last of the day; so
they passed the night in the ship, and when the day was near to
break, the young king went down from the ship, that he might go
to the bath, and made for the market. As he drew near the bath,
the cook met him by the way and knew him; so he laid hands on him
and binding his arms fast behind him, carried him to his house,
where he clapped the old shackles on his feet and straightway
cast him back into his whilom place of duresse.
When Selim found himself in that sorry plight and considered that
wherewith he was afflicted of tribulation and the contrariness of
his fortune, in that he had been a king and was now returned to
shackles and prison and hunger, he wept and groaned and lamented
and recited the following verses:
My fortitude fails, my endeavour is vain; My bosom is straitened.
To Thee, I complain,
O my God! Who is stronger than Thou in resource? The Subtle, Thou
knowest my plight and my pain.
To return to his wife and her mother. When the former arose in
the morning and her husband returned not to her with break of
day, she forebode all manner of calamity and straightway
despatched her servants and all who were with her in quest of
him; but they happened not on any trace of him neither fell in
with aught of his news. So she bethought herself concerning her
affair and complained and wept and groaned and sighed and blamed
perfidious fortune, bewailing that sorry chance and reciting
these verses:
God keep the days of love-delight! How passing sweet they were!
How joyous and how solaceful was life in them whilere!
Would he were not, who sundered us upon the parting-day! How many
a body hath he slain, how many a bone laid bare!
Sans fault of mine, my blood and tears he shed and beggared me Of
him I love, yet for himself gained nought thereby whate'er.
When she had made an end of her verses, she considered her affair
and said in herself, 'By Allah, all these things have betided by
the ordinance of God the Most High and His providence and this
was written and charactered upon the forehead.' Then she landed
and fared on till she came to a spacious place, where she
enquired of the folk and hired a house. Thither she straightway
transported all that was in the ship of goods and sending for
brokers, sold all that was with her. Then she took part of the
price and fell to enquiring of the folk, so haply she might scent
out tidings [of her lost husband]. Moreover, she addressed
herself to lavishing alms and tending the sick, clothing the
naked and pouring water upon the dry ground of the forlorn. On
this wise she abode a whole year, and every little while she sold
of her goods and gave alms to the sick and the needy; wherefore
her report was bruited abroad in the city and the folk were
lavish in her praise.
All this while, Selim lay in shackles and strait prison, and
melancholy possessed him by reason of that whereinto he had
fallen of that tribulation. Then, when troubles waxed on him and
affliction was prolonged, he fell sick of a sore sickness. When
the cook saw his plight (and indeed he was like to perish for
much suffering), he loosed him from the shackles and bringing him
forth of the prison, committed him to an old woman, who had a
nose the bigness of a jug, and bade her tend him and medicine him
and serve him and entreat him kindly, so haply he might be made
whole of that his sickness. So the old woman took him and
carrying him to her lodging, fell to tending him and giving him
to eat and drink; and when he was quit of that torment, he
recovered from his malady.
Now the old woman had heard from the folk of the lady who gave
alms to the sick, and indeed [the news of] her bounties reached
both poor and rich; so she arose and bringing out Selim to the
door of her house, laid him on a mat and wrapped him in a mantle
and sat over against him. Presently, it befell that the
charitable lady passed by them, which when the old woman saw, she
rose to her and offered up prayers for her, saying, 'O my
daughter, O thou to whom pertain goodness and beneficence and
charity and almsdoing, know that this young man is a stranger,
and indeed want and vermin and hunger and nakedness and cold slay
him.' When the lady heard this, she gave her alms of that which
was with her; and indeed her heart inclined unto Selim, [but she
knew him not for her husband].
The old woman received the alms from her and carrying it to
Selim, took part thereof herself and with the rest bought him an
old shirt, in which she clad him, after she had stripped him of
that he had on. Then she threw away the gown she had taken from
off him and arising forthright, washed his body of that which was
thereon of filth and scented him with somewhat of perfume.
Moreover, she bought him chickens and made him broth; so he ate
and his life returned to him and he abode with her on the most
solaceful of life till the morrow.
Next morning, the old woman said to him, 'When the lady cometh to
thee, do thou arise and kiss her hand and say to her, "I am a
strange man and indeed cold and hunger slay me;" so haply she may
give thee somewhat that thou mayst expend upon thy case.' And he
answered, 'Hearkening and obedience.' Then she took him by the
hand and carrying him without her house, seated him at the door.
As he sat, behold, the lady came up to him, whereupon the old
woman rose to her and Selim kissed her hand and offered up
prayers for her. Then he looked on her and when he saw her, he
knew her for his wife; so he cried out and wept and groaned and
lamented; whereupon she came up to him and cast herself upon him;
for indeed she knew him with all knowledge, even as he knew her.
So she laid hold of him and embraced him and called to her
serving-men and attendants and those who were about her; and they
took him up and carried him forth of that place.
When the old woman saw this, she cried out to the cook from
within the house, and he said to her, 'Go before me.' So she
forewent him and he ran after her till he [overtook the party
and] catching hold of Selim, said [to the latter's wife,] 'What
aileth thee to take my servant?' Whereupon she cried out at him,
saying, 'Know that this is my husband, whom I had lost.' And
Selim also cried out, saying, 'Mercy! Mercy! I appeal to God and
to the Sultan against this Satan!' Therewith the folk gathered
together to them forthright and loud rose the clamours and the
cries between them; but the most part of them said, 'Refer their
affair to the Sultan.' So they referred the case to the Sultan,
who was none other than Selim's sister Selma.
[Then they went up to the palace and] the interpreter went in to
Selma and said to her, 'O king of the age, here is an Indian
woman, who cometh from the land of Hind, and she hath laid hands
on a young man, a servant, avouching that he is her husband, who
hath been missing these two years, and she came not hither but on
his account, and indeed these many days she hath done almsdeeds
[in the city]. And here is a man, a cook, who avoucheth that the
young man is his slave.' When the queen heard these words, her
entrails quivered and she groaned from an aching heart and called
to mind her brother and that which had betided him. Then she bade
those who were about her bring them before her, and when she saw
them, she knew her brother and was like to cry aloud; but her
reason restrained her; yet could she not contain herself, but she
must needs rise up and sit down. However, she enforced herself
unto patience and said to them, 'Let each of you acquaint me with
his case.'
So Selim came forward and kissing the earth before the [supposed]
king, praised him and related to him his story from beginning to
end, till the time of their coming to that city, he and his
sister, telling him how he had entered the place and fallen into
the hands of the cook and that which had betided him [with him]
and what he had suffered from him of beating and bonds and
shackles and pinioning. Moreover, he told him how the cook had
made him his brother's slave and how the latter had sold him in
Hind and he had married the princess and become king and how life
was not pleasant to him till he should foregather with his sister
and how the cook had fallen in with him a second time and
acquainted her with that which had betided him of sickness and
disease for the space of a full-told year.
When he had made an end of his speech, his wife came forward
forthright and told her story, from first to last, how her mother
bought him from the cook's partner and the people of the kingdom
came under his rule; nor did she leave telling till she came, in
her story, to that city [and acquainted the queen with the manner
of her falling in with her lost husband]. When she had made an
end of her story, the cook exclaimed, 'Alack, what impudent liars
there be! By Allah, O king, this woman lieth against me, for this
youth is my rearling[FN#75] and he was born of one of my
slave-girls. He fled from me and I found him again.
When the queen heard the last of the talk, she said to the cook,
'The judgment between you shall not be but in accordance with
justice.' Then she dismissed all those who were present and
turning to her brother, said to him, 'Indeed thy soothfastness is
established with me and the truth of thy speech, and praised be
God who hath brought about union between thee and thy wife! So
now begone with her to thy country and leave [seeking] thy sister
Selma and depart in peace.' But Selim answered, saying, 'By
Allah, by the virtue of the All-knowing King, I will not turn
back from seeking my sister till I die or find her, if it please
God the Most High!' Then he called his sister to mind and broke
out with the following verses from a heart endolored, afflicted,
disappointed, saying:
O thou that blamest me for my heart and railest at my ill, Hadst
them but tasted my spirit's grief, thou wouldst excuse me
still.
By Allah, O thou that chid'st my heart concerning my sister's
love, Leave chiding and rather bemoan my case and help me to
my will.
For indeed I am mated with longing love in public and privily,
Nor ever my heart, alas I will cease from mourning, will I
or nill.
A fire in mine entrails burns, than which the fire of the hells
denounced For sinners' torment less scathing is: it seeketh
me to slay.
When his sister Selma heard what he said, she could no longer
contain herself, but cast herself upon him and discovered to him
her case. When he knew her, he threw himself upon her [and lay
without life] awhile; after which he came to himself and said,
'Praised be God, the Bountiful, the Beneficent!' Then they
complained to each other of that which they had suffered for the
anguish of separation, whilst Selim's wife abode wondered at this
and Selma's patience and constancy pleased her. So she saluted
her and thanked her for her fashion, saying, 'By Allah, O my
lady, all that we are in of gladness is of thy blessing alone; so
praised be God who hath vouchsafed us thy sight!' Then they abode
all three in joy and happiness and delight three days,
sequestered from the folk; and it was bruited abroad in the city
that the king had found his brother, who was lost years agone.
On the fourth day, all the troops and the people of the realm
assembled together to the [supposed] king and standing at his
gate, craved leave to enter. Selma bade admit them; so they
entered and paid her the service of the kingship and gave her joy
of her brother's safe return. She bade them do suit and service
to Selim, and they consented and paid him homage; after which
they kept silence awhile, so they might hear what the king should
command. Then said Selma, 'Harkye, all ye soldiers and subjects,
ye know that ye enforced me to [accept] the kingship and besought
me thereof and I consented unto your wishes concerning my
investment [with the royal dignity]; and I did this [against my
will]; for know that I am a woman and that I disguised myself and
donned man's apparel, so haply my case might be hidden, whenas I
lost my brother. But now, behold, God hath reunited me with my
brother, and it is no longer lawful to me that I be king and bear
rule over the people, and I a woman; for that there is no
governance for women, whenas men are present. Wherefore, if it
like you, do ye set my brother on the throne of the kingdom, for
this is he; and I will busy myself with the worship of God the
Most High and thanksgiving [to Him] for my reunion with my
brother. Or, if it like you, take your kingship and invest
therewith whom ye will.'
Thereupon the folk all cried out, saying, 'We accept him to king
over us!' And they did him suit and service and gave him joy of
the kingship. So the preachers preached in his name[FN#76] and
the poets praised him; and he lavished gifts upon the troops and
the officers of his household and overwhelmed them with favours
and bounties and was prodigal to the people of justice and
equitable dealings and goodly usance and polity. When he had
accomplished this much of his desire, he caused bring forth the
cook and his household to the divan, but spared the old woman who
had tended him, for that she had been the cause of his
deliverance. Then they assembled them all without the town and he
tormented the cook and those who were with him with all manner of
torments, after which he put him to death on the sorriest wise
and burning him with fire, scattered his ashes abroad in the air.
Selim abode in the governance, invested with the sultanate, and
ruled the people a whole year, after which he returned to El
Mensoureh and sojourned there another year. And he [and his wife]
ceased not to go from city to city and abide in this a year and
that a year, till he was vouchsafed children and they grew up,
whereupon he appointed him of his sons, who was found fitting, to
be his deputy in [one] kingdom [and abode himself in the other];
and he lived, he and his wife and children, what while God the
Most High willed. Nor," added the vizier, "O king of the age, is
this story rarer or more extraordinary than that of the king of
Hind and his wronged and envied vizier."
When the king heard this, his mind was occupied [with the story
he had heard and that which the vizier promised him], and he bade
the latter depart to his own house.
The Twenty-Eighth and Last Night of the Month
When the evening evened, the king summoned the vizier and bade
him tell the story of the King of Hind and his vizier. So he
said, "Hearkening and obedience. Know, O king of august lineage,
that
STORY OF THE KING OF HIND AND HIS VIZIER.
There was once in the land of Hind a king of illustrious station,
endowed with understanding and good sense, and his name was Shah
Bekht. He had a vizier, a man of worth and intelligence, prudent
in counsel, conformable to him in his governance and just in his
judgment; wherefore his enviers were many and many were the
hypocrites, who sought in him faults and set snares for him, so
that they insinuated into King Shah Bekht's eye hatred and
rancour against him and sowed despite against him in his heart;
and plot followed after plot, till [at last] the king was brought
to arrest him and lay him in prison and confiscate his good and
avoid his estate.[FN#77]
When they knew that there was left him no estate that the king
might covet, they feared lest he be brought to release him, by
the incidence of the vizier's [good] counsel upon the king's
heart, and he return to his former case, so should their plots be
marred and their ranks degraded, for that they knew that the king
would have need of that which he had known from that man nor
would forget that wherewith he was familiar in him. Now it befell
that a certain man of corrupt purpose[FN#78] found a way to the
perversion of the truth and a means of glozing over falsehood and
adorning it with a semblance of fair-seeming and there proceeded
from him that wherewith the hearts of the folk were occupied, and
their minds were corrupted by his lying tales; for that he made
use of Indian subtleties and forged them into a proof for the
denial of the Maker, the Creator, extolled be His might and
exalted be He! Indeed, God is exalted and magnified above the
speech of the deniers. He avouched that it is the planets[FN#79]
that order the affairs of all creatures and he set down twelve
mansions to twelve signs [of the Zodiac] and made each sign
thirty degrees, after the number of the days of the month, so
that in twelve mansions there are three hundred and threescore
[degrees], after the number of the days of the year; and he
wrought a scheme, wherein he lied and was an infidel and denied
[God]. Then he got possession of the king's mind and the enviers
and haters aided him against the vizier and insinuated themselves
into his favour and corrupted his counsel against the vizier, so
that he suffered of him that which he suffered and he banished
him and put him away.
So the wicked man attained that which he sought of the vizier and
the case was prolonged till the affairs of the kingdom became
disordered, by dint of ill governance, and the most part of the
king's empery fell away from him and he came nigh unto ruin.
Therewithal he was certified of the loyalty of his [late] skilful
vizier and the excellence of his governance and the justness of
his judgment. So he sent after him and brought him and the wicked
man before him and summoning the grandees of his realm and the
chiefs of his state to his presence, gave them leave to talk and
dispute and forbade the wicked man from that his lewd
opinion.[FN#80] Then arose that wise and skilful vizier and
praised God the Most High and lauded Him and glorified Him and
hallowed Him and attested His unity and disputed with the wicked
man and overcame him and put him to silence; nor did he cease
from him till he enforced him to make confession of repentance
[and turning away] from that which he had believed.
Therewith King Shah Bekht rejoiced with an exceeding great joy
and said, 'Praise be to God who hath delivered me from yonder man
and hath preserved me from the loss of the kingship and the
cessation of prosperity from me!' So the affair of the vizier
returned to order and well-being and the king restored him to his
place and advanced him in rank. Moreover, he assembled the folk
who had missaid of him and destroyed them all, to the last man.
And how like," continued the vizier, "is this story unto that of
myself and King Shah Bekht, with regard to that whereinto I am
fallen of the changing of the king's heart and his giving
credence to others against me; but now is the righteousness of my
dealing established in thine eyes, for that God the Most High
hath inspired me with wisdom and endowed thee with longanimity
and patience [to hearken] from me unto that which He allotted
unto those who had foregone us, till He hath shown forth my
innocence and made manifest unto thee the truth. For now the days
are past, wherein it was avouched to the king that I should
endeavour for the destruction of my soul,[FN#81] [to wit,] the
month; and behold, the probation time is over and gone, and past
is the season of evil and ceased, by the king's good fortune."
Then he bowed his head and was silent.[FN#82]
When King Shah Bekht heard his vizier's speech, he was confounded
before him and abashed and marvelled at the gravity of his
understanding and his patience. So he sprang up to him and
embraced him and the vizier kissed his feet. Then the king called
for a sumptuous dress of honour and cast it over Er Rehwan and
entreated him with the utmost honour and showed him special
favour and restored him to his rank and vizierate. Moreover he
imprisoned those who had sought his destruction with leasing and
committed unto himself to pass judgment upon the interpreter who
had expounded to him the dream. So the vizier abode in the
governance of the realm till there came to them the Destroyer of
Delights; and this (added Shehrzad) is all, O king of the age,
that hath come down to us of King Shah Bekht and his vizier.
SHEHRZAD AND SHEHRIYAR.
As for King Shehriyar, he marvelled at Shehrzad with the utmost
wonder and drew her near to his heart, of his much love for her;
and she was magnified in his eyes and he said in himself, "By
Allah, the like of this woman is not deserving of slaughter, for
indeed the time affordeth not her like. By Allah, I have been
heedless of mine affair, and had not God overcome me with His
mercy and put this woman at my service, so she might adduce to me
manifest instances and truthful cases and goodly admonitions and
edifying traits, such as should restore me to the [right] road,
[I had come to perdition!]. Wherefore to God be the praise for
this and I beseech Him to make my end with her like unto that of
the vizier and Shah Bekht." Then sleep overcame the king and
glory be unto Him who sleepeth not!
When it was the Nine hundred and thirtieth Night, Shehrzad said,
"O king, there is present in my thought a story which treateth of
women's craft and wherein is a warning to whoso will be warned
and an admonishment to whoso will be admonished and whoso hath
discernment; but I fear lest the hearing of this lessen me with
the king and lower my rank in his esteem; yet I hope that this
will not be, for that it is a rare story. Women are indeed
corruptresses; their craft and their cunning may not be set out
nor their wiles known. Men enjoy their company and are not
careful to uphold them [in the right way], neither do they watch
over them with all vigilance, but enjoy their company and take
that which is agreeable and pay no heed to that which is other
than this. Indeed, they are like unto the crooked rib, which if
thou go about to straighten, thou distortest it, and which if
thou persist in seeking to redress, thou breakest it; wherefore
it behoveth the man of understanding to be silent concerning
them."
"O sister mine," answered Dinarzad, "bring forth that which is
with thee and that which is present to thy mind of the story
concerning the craft of women and their wiles, and have no fear
lest this endamage thee with the king; for that women are like
unto jewels, which are of all kinds and colours. When a [true]
jewel falleth into the hand of him who is knowing therein, he
keepeth it for himself and leaveth that which is other than it.
Moreover, he preferreth some of them over others, and in this he
is like unto the potter, who filleth his oven with all the
vessels [he hath moulded] and kindleth fire thereunder. When the
baking is at an end and he goeth about to take forth that which
is in the oven, he findeth no help for it but that he must break
some thereof, whilst other some are what the folk need and
whereof they make use, and yet other some there be that return to
their whilom case. Wherefore fear thou not to adduce that which
thou knowest of the craft of women, for that in this is profit
for all folk."
Then said Shehrzad, "They avouch, O king, (but God [alone]
knowest the secret things,) that
EL MELIK EZ ZAHIR RUKNEDDIN BIBERS EL
BUNDUCDARI AND THE SIXTEEN OFFICERS OF
POLICE.[FN#83]
There was once in the land [of Egypt and] the city of Cairo,
[under the dynasty] of the Turks,[FN#84] a king of the valiant
kings and the exceeding mighty Sultans, by name El Melik ez Zahir
Rukneddin Bibers el Bunducdari.[FN#85] He was used to storm the
Islamite strongholds and the fortresses of the Coast[FN#86] and
the Nazarene citadels, and the governor of his [capital] city was
just to the folk, all of them. Now El Melik ez Zahir was
passionately fond of stories of the common folk and of that which
men purposed and loved to see this with his eyes and hear their
sayings with his ears, and it befell that he heard one night from
one of his story-tellers[FN#87] that among women are those who
are doughtier than men of valour and greater of excellence and
that among them are those who will do battle with the sword and
others who cozen the quickest-witted of magistrates and baffle
them and bring down on them all manner of calamity; whereupon
quoth the Sultan, 'I would fain hear this of their craft from one
of those who have had to do theiewith, so I may hearken unto him
and cause him tell.' And one of the story-tellers said, 'O king,
send for the chief of the police of the town.'
Now Ilmeddin Senjer was at that time Master of Police and he was
a man of experience, well versed in affairs: so the king sent for
him and when he came before him, he discovered to him that which
was in his mind. Quoth Ilmeddin Senjer, 'I will do my endeavour
for that which our lord the Sultan seeketh.' Then he arose and
returning to his house, summoned the captains of the watch and
the lieutenants of police and said to them, 'Know that I purpose
to marry my son and make him a bride-feast, and it is my wish
that ye assemble, all of you, in one place. I also will be
present, I and my company, and do ye relate that which ye have
heard of extraordinary occurrences and that which hath betided
you of experiences.' And the captains and sergeants and agents of
police made answer to him, saying, 'It is well: in the name of
God! We will cause thee see all this with thine eyes and hear it
with thine ears.' Then the master of police arose and going up to
El Melik ez Zahir, informed him that the assembly would take
place on such a day at his house; and the Sultan said, 'It is
well,' and gave him somewhat of money for his expenses.
When the appointed day arrived, the chief of the police set apart
for his officers a saloon, that had windows ranged in order and
giving upon the garden, and El Melik ez Zahir came to him, and he
seated himself, he and the Sultan, in the alcove. Then the tables
were spread unto them for eating and they ate; and when the cup
went round amongst them and their hearts were gladdened with meat
and drink, they related that which was with them and discovered
their secrets from concealment. The first to relate was a man, a
captain of the watch, by name Muineddin, whose heart was
engrossed with the love of women; and he said, 'Harkye, all ye
people of [various] degree, I will acquaint you with an
extraordinary affair which befell me aforetime. Know that
THE FIRST OFFICER'S STORY.
When I entered the service of this Amir,[FN#88] I had a great
repute and every lewd fellow feared me of all mankind, and whenas
I rode through the city, all the folk would point at me with
their fingers and eyes. It befell one day, as I sat in the house
of the prefecture, with my back against a wall, considering in
myself, there fell somewhat in my lap, and behold, it was a purse
sealed and tied. So I took it in my hand and behold, it had in it
a hundred dirhems,[FN#89] but I found not who threw it and I
said, "Extolled be the perfection of God, the King of the
Kingdoms!"[FN#90] Another day, [as I sat on like wise,] somewhat
fell on me and startled me, and behold, it was a purse like the
first. So I took it and concealing its affair, made as if I
slept, albeit sleep was not with me.
One day, as I was thus feigning sleep, I felt a hand in my lap,
and in it a magnificent purse. So I seized the hand and behold,
it was that of a fair woman. Quoth I to her, "O my lady, who art
thou?" And she said, "Rise [and come away] from here, that I may
make myself known to thee." So I arose and following her, fared
on, without tarrying, till she stopped at the door of a lofty
house, whereupon quoth I to her,"O my lady, who art thou? Indeed,
thou hast done me kindness, and what is the reason of this?" "By
Allah," answered she, "O Captain Mum, I am a woman on whom desire
and longing are sore for the love of the daughter of the Cadi
Amin el Hukm. Now there was between us what was and the love of
her fell upon my heart and I agreed with her upon meeting,
according to possibility and convenience. But her father Amin el
Hukm took her and went away, and my heart cleaveth to her and
love-longing and distraction are sore upon me on her account."
I marvelled at her words and said to her, "What wouldst thou have
me do?" And she answered, "O Captain Muin, I would have thee give
me a helping hand." Quoth I, "What have I to do with the daughter
of the Cadi Amin el Hukm?" And she said, "Know that I would not
have thee intrude upon the Cadi's daughter, but I would fain
contrive for the attainment of my wishes.' This is my intent and
my desire, and my design will not be accomplished but by thine
aid." Then said she, "I mean this night to go with a stout heart
and hire me trinkets of price; then will I go and sit in the
street wherein is the house of Amin el Hukm; and when it is the
season of the round and the folk are asleep, do thou pass, thou
and those who are with thee of the police, and thou wilt see me
sitting and on me fine raiment and ornaments and wilt smell on me
the odour of perfumes; whereupon do thou question me of my case
and I will say, 'I come from the Citadel and am of the daughters
of the deputies[FN#91] and I came down [into the town,] to do an
occasion; but the night overtook me at unawares and the Zuweyleh
gate was shut against me and all the gates and I knew not whither
I should go this night Presently I saw this street and noting the
goodliness of its ordinance and its cleanness, took shelter
therein against break of day.' When I say this to thee with all
assurance[FN#92] the chief of the watch will have no suspicion of
me, but will say, 'Needs must we leave her with one who will take
care of her till morning.' And do thou rejoin, 'It were most
fitting that she pass the night with Amin el Hukm and lie with
his family and children till the morning.' Then do thou
straightway knock at the Cadi's door, and thus shall I have
gained admission into his house, without inconvenience, and
gotten my desire; and peace be on thee!" And I said to her, "By
Allah, this is an easy matter."
So, when the night darkened, we sallied forth to make our round,
attended by men with sharp swords, and went round about the
streets and compassed the city, till we came to the by-street
where was the woman, and it was the middle of the night Here we
smelt rich scents and heard the clink of earrings; so I said to
my comrades, "Methinks I spy an apparition," And the captain of
the watch said, "See what it is." So I came forward and entering
the lane, came presently out again and said, "I have found a fair
woman and she tells me that she is from the Citadel and that the
night surprised her and she espied this street and seeing its
cleanness and the goodliness of its ordinance, knew that it
appertained to a man of rank and that needs must there be in it a
guardian to keep watch over it, wherefore she took shelter
therein." Quoth the captain of the watch to me, "Take her and
carry her to thy house." But I answered, "I seek refuge with
Allah![FN#93] My house is no place of deposit[FN#94] and on this
woman are trinkets and apparel [of price]. By Allah, we will not
deposit her save with Amin el Hukrn, in whose street she hath
been since the first of the darkness; wherefore do thou leave her
with him till the break of day." And he said, "As thou wilt."
Accordingly, I knocked at the Cadi's door and out came a black
slave of his slaves, to whom said I, "O my lord, take this woman
and let her be with you till break of day, for that the
lieutenant of the Amir Ilmeddin hath found her standing at the
door of your house, with trinkets and apparel [of price] on her,
and we feared lest her responsibility be upon you;[FN#95]
wherefore it is most fit that she pass the night with you." So
the slave opened and took her in with him.
When the morning morrowed, the first who presented himself before
the Amir was the Cadi Amin el Hukm, leaning on two of his black
slaves; and he was crying out and calling [on God] for aid and
saying, "O crafty and perfidious Amir, thou depositedst with me a
woman [yesternight] and broughtest her into my house and my
dwelling-place, and she arose [in the night] and took from me the
good of the little orphans,[FN#96] six great bags, [containing
each a thousand dinars,[FN#97] and made off;] but as for me, I
will say no more to thee except in the Sultan's presence."[FN#98]
When the Master of the Police heard these words, he was troubled
and rose and sat down; then he took the Cadi and seating him by
his side, soothed him and exhorted him to patience, till he had
made an end of talk, when he turned to the officers and
questioned them. They fixed the affair on me and said, "We know
nothing of this affair but from Captain Muineddin." So the Cadi
turned to me and said, "Thou wast of accord with this woman, for
she said she came from the Citadel."
As for me, I stood, with my head bowed to the earth, forgetting
both Institutes and Canons,[FN#99] and abode sunk in thought,
saying, "How came I to be the dupe of yonder worthless baggage?"
Then said the Amir to me, "What aileth thee that thou answerest
not?" And I answered, saying, "O my lord, it is a custom among
the folk that he who hath a payment to make at a certain date is
allowed three days' grace; [so do thou have patience with me so
long,] and if, [by the end of that time,] the culprit be not
found, I will be answerable for that which is lost." When the
folk heard my speech, they all deemed it reasonable and the
Master of Police turned to the Cadi and swore to him that he
would do his utmost endeavour to recover the stolen money and
that it should be restored to him. So he went away, whilst I
mounted forthright and fell to going round about the world
without purpose, and indeed I was become under the dominion of a
woman without worth or honour; and I went round about on this
wise all that my day and night, but happened not upon tidings of
her; and thus I did on the morrow.
On the third day I said to myself, "Thou art mad or witless!" For
I was going about in quest of a woman who knew me and I knew her
not, seeing that indeed she was veiled, [whenas I saw her]. Then
I went round about the third day till the hour of afternoon
prayer, and sore was my concern and my chagrin, for I knew that
there abode to me of my life but [till] the morrow, when the
chief of the police would seek me. When it was the time of
sundown, I passed through one of the streets, and beheld a woman
at a window. Her door was ajar and she was clapping her hands and
casting furtive glances at me, as who should say, "Come up by the
door." So I went up, without suspicion, and when I entered, she
rose and clasped me to her breast 1 marvelled at her affair and
she said to me, "I am she whom thou depositedst with Amin el
Hukm." Quoth I to her, "O my sister, I have been going round and
round in quest of thee, for indeed thou hast done a deed that
will be chronicled in history and hast cast me into
slaughter[FN#100] on thine account." "Sayst thou this to me,"
asked she, "and thou captain of men?" And I answered, "How should
I not be troubled, seeing that I am in concern [for an affair]
that I turn over and over [in my mind], more by token that I
abide my day long going about [searching for thee] and in the
night I watch its stars [for wakefulness]?" Quoth she, "Nought
shall betide but good, and thou shalt get the better of him."
So saying, she rose [and going] to a chest, took out therefrom
six bags full of gold and said to me, "This is what I took from
Amin el Hukm's house. So, if thou wilt, restore it; else the
whole is lawfully thine; and if thou desire other than this,
[thou shalt have it;] for I have wealth in plenty and I had no
design in this but to marry thee." Then she arose and opening
[other] chests, brought out therefrom wealth galore and I said to
her, "O my sister, I have no desire for all this, nor do I covet
aught but to be quit of that wherein I am." Quoth she, "I came
not forth of the [Cadi's] house without [making provision for]
thine acquittance."
Then said she to me, "To-morrow morning, when Amin el Hukm
cometh, have patience with him till he have made an end of his
speech, and when he is silent, return him no answer; and if the
prefect say to thee, 'What ailest thee that thou answereth him
not?' do thou reply, 'O lord, know that the two words are not
alike, but there is no [helper] for him who is undermost[FN#101],
save God the Most High.'[FN#102] The Cadi will say, 'What is the
meaning of thy saying," The two words are not alike"?' And do
thou make answer, saying, 'I deposited with thee a damsel from
the palace of the Sultan, and most like some losel of thy
household hath transgressed against her or she hath been privily
murdered. Indeed, there were on her jewels and raiment worth a
thousand dinars, and hadst thou put those who are with thee of
slaves and slave-girls to the question, thou hadst assuredly lit
on some traces [of the crime].' When he heareth this from thee,
his agitation will redouble and he will be confounded and will
swear that needs must thou go with him to his house; but do thou
say, 'That will I not do, for that I am the party aggrieved, more
by token that I am under suspicion with thee.' If he redouble in
calling [on God for aid] and conjure thee by the oath of divorce,
saying, 'Needs must thou come,' do thou say, 'By Allah, I will
not go, except the prefect come also.'
When thou comest to the house, begin by searching the roofs; then
search the closets and cabinets; and if thou find nought, humble
thyself unto the Cadi and make a show of abjection and feign
thyself defeated, and after stand at the door and look as if thou
soughtest a place wherein to make water, for that there is a dark
corner there. Then come forward, with a heart stouter than
granite, and lay hold upon a jar of the jars and raise it from
its place. Thou wilt find under it the skirt of a veil; bring it
out publicly and call the prefect in a loud voice, before those
who are present. Then open it and thou wilt find it full of
blood, exceeding of redness,[FN#103] and in it [thou wilt find
also] a woman's shoes and a pair of trousers and somewhat of
linen." When I heard this from her, I rose to go out and she said
to me, "Take these hundred dinars, so they may advantage thee;
and this is my guest-gift to thee." So I took them and bidding
her farewell, returned to my lodging.
Next morning, up came the Cadi, with his face like the
ox-eye,[FN#104] and said, "In the name of God, where is my debtor
and where is my money?" Then he wept and cried out and said to
the prefect, "Where is that ill-omened fellow, who aboundeth in
thievery and villainy?" Therewith the prefect turned to me and
said, "Why dost thou not answer the Cadi?" And I replied, "O
Amir, the two heads[FN#105] are not equal, and I, I have no
helper but God; but, if the right be on my side, it will appear."
At this the Cadi cried out and said, "Out on thee, O ill-omened
fellow! How wilt thou make out that the right is on thy side?" "O
our lord the Cadi," answered I, "I deposited with thee a trust,
to wit, a woman whom we found at thy door, and on her raiment and
trinkets of price. Now she is gone, even as yesterday is gone;
and after this thou turnest upon us and makest claim upon me for
six thousand dinars. By Allah, this is none other than gross
unright, and assuredly some losel of thy household hath
transgressed against her!"
With this the Cadi's wrath redoubled and he swore by the most
solemn of oaths that I should go with him and search his house.
"By Allah," replied I, "I will not go, except the prefect be with
us; for, if he be present, he and the officers, thou wilt not
dare to presume upon me." And the Cadi rose and swore an oath,
saying, "By Him who created mankind, we will not go but with the
Amir!" So we repaired to the Cadi's house, accompanied by the
prefect, and going up, searched high and low, but found nothing;
whereupon fear gat hold upon me and the prefect turned to me and
said, "Out on thee, O ill-omened fellow! Thou puttest us to shame
before the men." And I wept and went round about right and left,
with the tears running down my face, till we were about to go
forth and drew near the door of the house. I looked at the place
[behind the door] and said, "What is yonder dark place that I
see?" And I said to the sergeants, "Lift up this jar with me."
They did as I bade them and I saw somewhat appearing under the
jar and said, "Rummage and see what is under it." So they
searched and found a woman's veil and trousers full of blood,
which when I beheld, I fell down in a swoon.
When the prefect saw this, he said, "By Allah, the captain is
excused!" Then my comrades came round about me and sprinkled
water on my face, [till I came to myself,] when I arose and
accosting the Cadi, who was covered with confusion, said to him,
"Thou seest that suspicion is fallen on thee, and indeed this
affair is no light matter, for that this woman's family will
assuredly not sit down under her loss." Therewith the Cadi's
heart quaked and he knew that the suspicion had reverted upon
him, wherefore his colour paled and his limbs smote together; and
he paid of his own money, after the measure of that which he had
lost, so we would hush up the matter for him.[FN#106] Then we
departed from him in peace, whilst I said in myself, "Indeed, the
woman deceived me not."
After that I tarried till three days had elapsed, when 1 went to
the bath and changing my clothes, betook myself to her house, but
found the door locked and covered with dust. So I questioned the
neighbours of her and they said, "This house hath been empty
these many days; but three days agone there came a woman with an
ass, and yesternight, at eventide, she took her gear and went
away." So I turned back, confounded in my wit, and every day
[after this, for many a day,] I inquired of the inhabitants [of
the street] concerning her, but could light on no tidings of her.
And indeed I marvelled at the eloquence of her tongue and [the
readiness of] her speech; and this is the most extraordinary of
that which hath betided me.'
When El Melik ez Zahir heard Muineddin's story, he marvelled
thereat Then rose another officer and said, 'O lord, bear what
befell me in bygone days.
THE SECOND OFFICER'S STORY.
I was once an officer in the household of the Amir Jemaleddin El
Atwesh El Mujhidi, who was invested with the governance of the
Eastern and Western districts,[FN#107] and I was dear to his
heart and he concealed from me nought of that which he purposed
to do; and withal he was master of his reason.[FN#108] It chanced
one day that it was reported to him that the daughter of such an
one had wealth galore and raiment and jewels and she loved a Jew,
whom every day she invited to be private with her, and they
passed the day eating and drinking in company and he lay the
night with her. The prefect feigned to give no credence to this
story, but one night he summoned the watchmen of the quarter and
questioned them of this. Quoth one of them, "O my lord, I saw a
Jew enter the street in question one night; but know not for
certain to whom he went in." And the prefect said, "Keep thine
eye on him henceforth and note what place he entereth." So the
watchman went out and kept his eye on the Jew.
One day, as the prefect sat [in his house], the watchman came in
to him and said, "O my lord, the Jew goeth to the house of such
an one." Whereupon El Atwesh arose and went forth alone, taking
with him none but myself. As he went along, he said to me,
"Indeed, this [woman] is a fat piece of meat."[FN#109] And we
gave not over going till we came to the door of the house and
stood there till a slave-girl came out, as if to buy them
somewhat. We waited till she opened the door, whereupon, without
further parley, we forced our way into the house and rushed in
upon the girl, whom we found seated with the Jew in a saloon with
four estrades, and cooking-pots and candles therein. When her
eyes fell on the prefect, she knew him and rising to her feet,
said, "Welcome and fair welcome! Great honour hath betided me by
my lord's visit and indeed thou honourest my dwelling."
Then she carried him up [to the estrade] and seating him on the
couch, brought him meat and wine and gave him to drink; after
which she put off all that was upon her of raiment and jewels and
tying them up in a handkerchief, said to him, "O my lord, this is
thy portion, all of it." Moreover she turned to the Jew and said
to him, "Arise, thou also, and do even as I." So he arose in
haste and went out, scarce crediting his deliverance. When the
girl was assured of his escape, she put out her hand to her
clothes [and jewels] and taking them, said to the prefect, "Is
the requital of kindness other than kindness? Thou hast deigned
[to visit me and eat of my victual]; so now arise and depart from
us without ill-[doing]; or I will give one cry and all who are in
the street will come forth." So the Amir went out from her,
without having gotten a single dirhem; and on this wise she
delivered the Jew by the excellence of her contrivance.'
The folk marvelled at this story and as for the prefect and El
Melik ez Zahir, they said, 'Wrought ever any the like of this
device?' And they marvelled with the utterest of wonderment Then
arose a third officer and said, 'Hear what betided me, for it is
yet stranger and more extraordinary.
THE THIRD OFFICER'S STORY
I was one day abroad on an occasion with certain of my comrades,
and as we went along, we fell in with a company of women, as they
were moons, and among them one, the tallest and handsomest of
them. When I saw her and she saw me, she tarried behind her
companions and waited for me, till I came up to her and bespoke
her. Quoth she, "O my lord, (God favour thee!) I saw thee prolong
thy looking on me and imagined that thou knewest me. If it be
thus, vouchsafe me more knowledge of thee." "By Allah," answered
I, "I know thee not, save that God the Most High hath cast the
love of thee into my heart and the goodliness of thine attributes
hath confounded me and that wherewith God hath gifted thee of
those eyes that shoot with arrows; for thou hast captivated me."
And she rejoined, "By Allah, I feel the like of that which thou
feelest; so that meseemeth I have known thee from childhood."
Then said I, "A man cannot well accomplish all whereof he hath
need in the market-places." "Hast thou a house?" asked she. "No,
by Allah," answered I; "nor is this town my dwelling-place." "By
Allah," rejoined she, "nor have I a place; but I will contrive
for thee." Then she went on before me and I followed her till she
came to a lodging-house and said to the housekeeper, "Hast thou
an empty chamber?" "Yes," answered she; and my mistress said,
"Give us the key." So we took the key and going up to see the
room, entered it; after which she went out to the housekeeper and
[giving her a dirhem], said to her, "Take the key-money,[FN#110]
for the room pleaseth us, and here is another dirhem for thy
trouble. Go, fetch us a pitcher of water, so we may [refresh
ourselves] and rest till the time of the noonday siesta pass and
the heat decline, when the man will go and fetch the [household]
stuff." Therewith the housekeeper rejoiced and brought us a mat
and two pitchers of water on a tray and a leather rug.
We abode thus till the setting-in of the time of mid-afternoon,
when she said, "Needs must I wash before I go." Quoth I, "Get
water wherewithal we may wash," and pulled out from my pocket
about a score of dirhems, thinking to give them to her; but she
said, "I seek refuge with God!" and brought out of her pocket a
handful of silver, saying, "But for destiny and that God hath
caused the love of thee fall into my heart, there had not
happened that which hath happened." Quoth I, "Take this in
requital of that which thou hast spent;" and she said, "O my
lord, by and by, whenas companionship is prolonged between us,
thou wilt see if the like of me looketh unto money and gain or
no." Then she took a pitcher of water and going into the
lavatory, washed[FN#111] and presently coming forth, prayed and
craved pardon of God the Most High for that which she had done.
Now I had questioned her of her name and she answered, "My name
is Rihaneh," and described to me her dwelling-place. When I saw
her make the ablution, I said in myself, "This woman doth on this
wise, and shall I not do the like of her?" Then said I to her,
"Belike thou wilt seek us another pitcher of water?" So she went
out to the housekeeper and said to her, "Take this para and fetch
us water therewith, so we may wash the flags withal."
Accordingly, the housekeeper brought two pitchers of water and I
took one of them and giving her my clothes, entered the lavatory
and washed.
When I had made an end of washing, I cried out, saying, "Harkye,
my lady Rihaneh!" But none answered me. So I went out and found
her not; and indeed she had taken my clothes and that which was
therein of money, to wit, four hundred dirhems. Moreover, she had
taken my turban and my handkerchief and I found not wherewithal
to cover my nakedness; wherefore I suffered somewhat than which
death is less grievous and abode looking about the place, so
haply I might espy wherewithal to hide my shame. Then I sat a
little and presently going up to the door, smote upon it;
whereupon up came the housekeeper and I said to her, "O my
sister, what hath God done with the woman who was here?" Quoth
she, "She came down but now and said, 'I am going to cover the
boys with the clothes and I have left him sleeping. If he awake,
tell him not to stir till the clothes come to him.'" Then said I,
"O my sister, secrets are [safe] with the worthy and the
freeborn. By Allah, this woman is not my wife, nor ever in my
life have I seen her before this day!" And I recounted to her the
whole affair and begged her to cover me, informing her that I was
discovered of the privities.
She laughed and cried out to the women of the house, saying, "Ho,
Fatimeh! Ho, Khedijeh! Ho, Herifeh! Ho, Senineh!" Whereupon all
those who were in the place of women and neighbours flocked to me
and fell a-laughing at me and saying, "O blockhead, what ailed
thee to meddle with gallantry?" Then one of them came and looked
in my face and laughed, and another said, "By Allah, thou
mightest have known that she lied, from the time she said she
loved thee and was enamoured of thee? What is there in thee to
love?" And a third said, "This is an old man without
understanding." And they vied with each other in making mock of
me, what while I suffered sore chagrin.
However, after awhile, one of the women took pity on me and
brought me a rag of thin stuff and cast it on me. With this I
covered my privities, and no more, and abode awhile thus. Then
said I in myself, "The husbands of these women will presently
gather together on me and I shall be disgraced." So I went out by
another door of the house, and young and old crowded about me,
running after me and saying, "A madman! A madman!" till I came to
my house and knocked at the door; whereupon out came my wife and
seeing me naked, tall, bareheaded, cried out and ran in again,
saying,"This is a madman, a Satan!" But, when she and my family
knew me, they rejoiced and said to me, "What aileth thee?" I told
them that thieves had taken my clothes and stripped me and had
been like to kill me; and when I told them that they would have
killed me, they praised God the Most High and gave me joy of my
safety. So consider the craft of this woman and this device that
she practised upon me, for all my pretensions to sleight and
quickwittedness.'
The company marvelled at this story and at the doings of women.
Then came forward a fourth officer and said, 'Verily, that which
hath betided me of strange adventures is yet more extraordinary
than this; and it was on this wise.
THE FOURTH OFFICER'S STORY.
We were sleeping one night on the roof, when a woman made her way
into the house and gathering into a bundle all that was therein,
took it up, that she might go away with it. Now she was great
with child and near upon her term and the hour of her
deliverance; so, when she made up the bundle and offered to
shoulder it and make off with it, she hastened the coming of the
pangs of labour and gave birth to a child in the dark. Then she
sought for the flint and steel and striking a light, kindled the
lamp and went round about the house with the little one, and it
was weeping. [The noise awoke us,] as we lay on the roof, and we
marvelled. So we arose, to see what was to do, and looking down
through the opening of the saloon,[FN#112] saw a woman, who had
kindled the lamp, and heard the little one weeping. She heard our
voices and raising her eyes to us, said, "Are ye not ashamed to
deal with us thus and discover our nakedness? Know ye not that
the day belongeth to you and the night to us? Begone from us! By
Allah, were it not that ye have been my neighbours these [many]
years, I would bring down the house upon you!" We doubted not but
that she was of the Jinn and drew back our heads; but, when we
arose on the morrow, we found that she had taken all that was
with us and made off with it; wherefore we knew that she was a
thief and had practised [on us] a device, such as was never
before practised; and we repented, whenas repentance advantaged
us not.'
When the company heard this story, they marvelled thereat with
the utmost wonderment. Then the fifth officer, who was the
lieutenant of the bench,[FN#113] came forward and said, '[This
is] no wonder and there befell me that which is rarer and more
extraordinary than this.
THE FIFTH OFFICER'S STORY.
As I sat one day at the door of the prefecture, a woman entered
and said to me privily, "O my lord, I am the wife of such an one
the physician, and with him is a company of the notables[FN#114]
of the city, drinking wine in such a place." When I heard this, I
misliked to make a scandal; so I rebuffed her and sent her away.
Then I arose and went alone to the place in question and sat
without till the door opened, when I rushed in and entering,
found the company engaged as the woman had set out, and she
herself with them. I saluted them and they returned my greeting
and rising, entreated me with honour and seated me and brought me
to eat. Then I informed them how one had denounced them to me,
but I had driven him[FN#115] away and come to them by myself;
wherefore they thanked me and praised me for my goodness. Then
they brought out to me from among them two thousand
dirhems[FN#116] and I took them and went away.
Two months after this occurrence, there came to me one of the
Cadi's officers, with a scroll, wherein was the magistrate's
writ, summoning me to him. So I accompanied the officer and went
in to the Cadi, whereupon the plaintiff, to wit, he who had taken
out the summons, sued me for two thousand dirhems, avouching that
I had borrowed them of him as the woman's agent.[FN#117] I denied
the debt, but he produced against me a bond for the amount,
attested by four of those who were in company [on the occasion];
and they were present and bore witness to the loan. So I reminded
them of my kindness and paid the amount, swearing that I would
never again follow a woman's counsel. Is not this marvellous?'
The company marvelled at the goodliness of his story and it
pleased El Melik ez Zahir; and the prefect said, 'By Allah, this
story is extraordinary!' Then came forward the sixth officer and
said to the company, 'Hear my story and that which befell me, to
wit, that which befell such an one the assessor, for it is rarer
than this and stranger.
THE SIXTH OFFICER'S STORY.
A certain assessor was one day taken with a woman and much people
assembled before his house and the lieutenant of police and his
men came to him and knocked at the door. The assessor looked out
of window and seeing the folk, said, "What aileth you?" Quoth
they, "[Come,] speak with the lieutenant of police such an one."
So he came down and they said to him, "Bring forth the woman that
is with thee." Quoth he, "Are ye not ashamed? How shall I bring
forth my wife?" And they said, "Is she thy wife by
contract[FN#118] or without contract?" ["By contract,"] answered
he, "according to the Book of God and the Institutes of His
Apostle." "Where is the contract?" asked they; and he replied,
"Her contract is in her mother's house." Quoth they, "Arise and
come down and show us the contract." And he said to them, "Go
from her way, so she may come forth." Now, as soon as he got wind
of the matter, he had written the contract and fashioned it after
her fashion, to suit with the case, and written therein the names
of certain of his friends as witnesses and forged the signatures
of the drawer and the wife's next friend and made it a contract
of marriage with his wife and appointed it for an excuse.[FN#119]
So, when the woman was about to go out from him, he gave her the
contract that be had forged, and the Amir sent with her a servant
of his, to bring her to her father. So the servant went with her
and when she came to her door, she said to him, "I will not
return to the citation of the Amir; but let the witnesses[FN#120]
present themselves and take my contract."
Accordingly, the servant carried this message to the lieutenant
of police, who was standing at the assessor's door, and he said,
"This is reasonable." Then said [the assessor] to the servant,
"Harkye, O eunuch! Go and fetch us such an one the notary;" for
that he was his friend [and it was he whose name he had forged as
the drawer-up of the contract]. So the lieutenant of police sent
after him and fetched him to the assessor, who, when he saw him,
said to him, "Get thee to such an one, her with whom thou
marriedst me, and cry out upon her, and when she cometh to thee,
demand of her the contract and take it from her and bring it to
us." And he signed to him, as who should say, "Bear me out in the
lie and screen me, for that she is a strange woman and I am in
fear of the lieutenant of police who standeth at the door; and we
beseech God the Most High to screen us and you from the trouble
of this world. Amen."
So the notary went up to the lieutenant, who was among the
witnesses, and said "It is well. Is she not such an one whose
marriage contract we drew up in such a place?" Then he betook
himself to the woman's house and cried out upon her; whereupon
she brought him the [forged] contract and he took it and returned
with it to the lieutenant of police. When the latter had taken
cognizance [of the document and professed himself satisfied, the
assessor] said [to the notary,] "Go to our lord and master, the
Cadi of the Cadis, and acquaint him with that which befalleth his
assessors." The notary rose to go, but the lieutenant of police
feared [for himself] and was profuse in beseeching the assessor
and kissing his hands, till he forgave him; whereupon the
lieutenant went away in the utterest of concern and affright. On
this wise the assessor ordered the case and carried out the
forgery and feigned marriage with the woman; [and thus was
calamity warded off from him] by the excellence of his
contrivance."[FN#121]
The folk marvelled at this story with the utmost wonderment and
the seventh officer said, 'There befell me in Alexandria the
[God-]guarded a marvellous thing, [and it was that one told me
the following story].
THE SEVENTH OFFICER'S STORY.
There came one day an old woman [to the stuff-market], with a
casket of precious workmanship, containing trinkets, and she was
accompanied by a damsel great with child. The old woman sat down
at the shop of a draper and giving him to know that the damsel
was with child by the prefect of police of the city, took of him,
on credit, stuffs to the value of a thousand dinars and deposited
with him the casket as security. [She opened the casket and]
showed him that which was therein; and he found it full of
trinkets [apparently] of price; [so he trusted her with the
goods] and she took leave of him and carrying the stuffs to the
damsel, who was with her, [went her way]. Then the old woman was
absent from him a great while, and when her absence was
prolonged, the draper despaired of her; so he went up to the
prefect's house and enquired of the woman of his household, [who
had taken his stuffs on credit;] but could get no tidings of her
nor lit on aught of her trace.
Then he brought out the casket of jewellery [and showed it to an
expert,] who told him that the trinkets were gilt and that their
worth was but an hundred dirhems. When he heard this, he was sore
concerned thereat and presenting himself before the Sultan's
deputy, made his complaint to him; whereupon the latter knew that
a trick had been put off upon him and that the folk had cozened
him and gotten the better of him and taken his stuffs. Now the
magistrate in question was a man of good counsel and judgment,
well versed in affairs; so he said to the draper, "Remove
somewhat from thy shop, [and amongst the rest the casket,] and on
the morrow break the lock and cry out and come to me and complain
that they have plundered all thy shop. Moreover, do thou call
[upon God for succour] and cry aloud and acquaint the folk, so
that all the people may resort to thee and see the breach of the
lock and that which is missing from thy shop; and do thou show it
to every one who presenteth himself, so the news may be noised
abroad, and tell them that thy chief concern is for a casket of
great value, deposited with thee by a great man of the town and
that thou standest in fear of him. But be thou not afraid and
still say in thy converse, 'My casket belonged to such an one,
and I fear him and dare not bespeak him; but you, O company and
all ye who are present, I call you to witness of this for me.'
And if there be with thee more than this talk, [say it;] and the
old woman will come to thee."
The draper answered with "Hearkening and obedience" and going
forth from the deputy's presence, betook himself to his shop and
brought out thence [the casket and] somewhat considerable, which
he removed to his house. At break of day he arose and going to
his shop, broke the lock and cried out and shrieked and called
[on God for help,] till the folk assembled about him and all who
were in the city were present, whereupon he cried out to them,
saying even as the prefect had bidden him; and this was bruited
abroad. Then he made for the prefecture and presenting himself
before the chief of the police, cried out and complained and made
a show of distraction.
After three days, the old woman came to him and bringing him the
[thousand dinars, the] price of the stuffs, demanded the
casket.[FN#122] When he saw her, he laid hold of her and carried
her to the prefect of the city; and when she came before the
Cadi, he said to her, "O Sataness, did not thy first deed suffice
thee, but thou must come a second time?" Quoth she, "I am of
those who seek their salvation[FN#123] in the cities, and we
foregather every month; and yesterday we foregathered." "Canst
thou [bring me to] lay hold of them?" asked the prefect; and she
answered, "Yes; but, if thou wait till to-morrow, they will have
dispersed. So I will deliver them to thee to-night." Quoth he to
her, "Go;" and she said, "Send with me one who shall go with me
to them and obey me in that which I shall say to him, and all
that I bid him he shall give ear unto and obey me therein." So he
gave her a company of men and she took them and bringing them to
a certain door, said to them, "Stand at this door, and whoso
cometh out to you, lay hands on him; and I will come out to you
last of all." "Hearkening and obedience," answered they and stood
at the door, whilst the old woman went in. They waited a long
while, even as the Sultan's deputy had bidden them, but none came
out to them and their standing was prolonged. When they were
weary of waiting, they went up to the door and smote upon it
heavily and violently, so that they came nigh to break the lock.
Then one of them entered and was absent a long while, but found
nought; so he returned to his comrades and said to them,"This is
the door of a passage, leading to such a street; and indeed she
laughed at you and left you and went away."When they heard his
words, they returned to the Amir and acquainted him with the
case, whereby he knew that the old woman was a crafty trickstress
and that she had laughed at them and cozened them and put a cheat
on them, to save herself. Consider, then, the cunning of this
woman and that which she contrived of wiles, for all her lack of
foresight in presenting herself [a second time] to the draper and
not apprehending that his conduct was but a trick; yet, when she
found herself in danger, she straightway devised a shift for her
deliverance.'
When the company heard the seventh officer's story, they were
moved to exceeding mirth, and El Melik ez Zahir Bibers rejoiced
in that which he heard and said, 'By Allah, there betide things
in this world, from which kings are shut out, by reason of their
exalted station!" Then came forward another man from amongst the
company and said, 'There hath reached me from one of my friends
another story bearing on the malice of women and their craft, and
it is rarer and more extraordinary and more diverting than all
that hath been told to you."
Quoth the company, 'Tell us thy story and expound it unto us, so
we may see that which it hath of extraordinary.' And he said
'Know, then, that
THE EIGHTH OFFICER'S STORY.
A friend of mine once invited me to an entertainment; so I went
with him, and when we came into his house and sat down on his
couch, he said to me, "This is a blessed day and a day of
gladness, and [blessed is] he who liveth to [see] the like of
this day. I desire that thou practise with us and deny[FN#124] us
not, for that thou hast been used to hearken unto those who
occupy themselves with this."[FN#125] I fell in with this and
their talk happened upon the like of this subject.[FN#126]
Presently, my friend, who had invited me, arose from among them
and said to them, "Hearken to me and I will tell you of an
adventure that happened to me. There was a certain man who used
to visit me in my shop, and I knew him not nor he me, nor ever in
his life had he seen me; but he was wont, whenever he had need of
a dirhem or two, by way of loan, to come to me and ask me,
without acquaintance or intermediary between me and him, [and I
would give him what he sought]. I told none of him, and matters
abode thus between us a long while, till he fell to borrowing ten
at twenty dirhems [at a time], more or less.
One day, as I stood in my shop, there came up to me a woman and
stopped before me; and she as she were the full moon rising from
among the stars, and the place was illumined by her light. When I
saw her, I fixed my eyes on her and stared in her face; and she
bespoke me with soft speech. When I heard her words and the
sweetness of her speech, I lusted after her; and when she saw
that I lusted after her, she did her occasion and promising me
[to come again], went away, leaving my mind occupied with her and
fire kindled in my heart. Then I abode, perplexed and pondering
my affair, whilst fire flamed in my heart, till the third day,
when she came again and I scarce credited her coming. When I saw
her, I talked with her and cajoled her and courted her and strove
to win her favour with speech and invited her [to my house]; but
she answered, saying, 'I will not go up into any one's house.'
Quoth I, 'I will go with thee;' and she said, 'Arise and come
with me.'
So I arose and putting in my sleeve a handkerchief, wherein was a
good sum of money, followed the woman, who went on before me and
gave not over walking till she brought me to a by-street and to a
door, which she bade me open. I refused and she opened it and
brought me into the vestibule. As soon as I had entered, she
locked the door of entrance from within and said to me, 'Sit
[here] till I go in to the slave-girls and cause them enter a
place where they shall not see me.' 'It is well,' answered I and
sat down; whereupon she entered and was absent from me a moment,
after which she returned to me, without a veil, and said, 'Arise,
[enter,] in the name of God.'[FN#127] So I arose and went in
after her and we gave not over going till we entered a saloon.
When I examined the place, I found it neither handsome nor
agreeable, but unseemly and desolate, without symmetry or
cleanliness; nay, it was loathly to look upon and there was a
foul smell in it.
I seated myself amiddleward the saloon, misdoubting, and as I
sat, there came down on me from the estrade seven naked men,
without other clothing than leather girdles about their waists.
One of them came up to me and took my turban, whilst another took
my handkerchief, that was in my sleeve, with my money, and a
third stripped me of my clothes; after which a fourth came and
bound my hands behind me with his girdle. Then they all took me
up, pinioned as I was, and casting me down, fell a-dragging me
towards a sink-hole that was there and were about to cut my
throat, when, behold, there came a violent knocking at the door.
When they heard this, they were afraid and their minds were
diverted from me by fear; so the woman went out and presently
returning, said to them, 'Fear not; no harm shall betide you this
day. It is only your comrade who hath brought you your
noon-meal.' With this the new-comer entered, bringing with him a
roasted lamb; and when he came in to them, he said to them, 'What
is to do with you, that ye have tucked up [your sleeves and
trousers]?' Quoth they, '[This is] a piece of game we have
caught.'
When he heard this, he came up to me and looking in my face,
cried out and said, 'By Allah, this is my brother, the son of my
mother and father! Allah! Allah!' Then he loosed me from my bonds
and kissed my head, and behold it was my friend who used to
borrow money of me. When I kissed his head, he kissed mine and
said, 'O my brother, be not affrighted.' Then he called for my
clothes [and money and restored to me all that had been taken
from me] nor was aught missing to me. Moreover, he brought me a
bowl full of [sherbet of] sugar, with lemons therein, and gave me
to drink thereof; and the company came and seated me at a table.
So I ate with them and he said to me, 'O my lord and my brother,
now have bread and salt passed between us and thou hast
discovered our secret and [become acquainted with] our case; but
secrets [are safe] with the noble.' Quoth I, 'As I am a
lawfully-begotten child, I will not name aught [of this] neither
denounce [you!*]' And they assured themselves of me by an oath.
Then they brought me out and I went my way, scarce crediting but
that I was of the dead.
I abode in my house, ill, a whole month; after which I went to
the bath and coming out, opened my shop [and sat selling and
buying as usual], but saw no more of the man or the woman, till,
one day, there stopped before my shop a young man, [a Turcoman],
as he were the full moon; and he was a sheep-merchant and had
with him a bag, wherein was money, the price of sheep that he had
sold. He was followed by the woman, and when he stopped at my
shop, she stood by his side and cajoled him, and indeed he
inclined to her with a great inclination. As for me, I was
consumed with solicitude for him and fell to casting furtive
glances at him and winked at him, till he chanced to look round
and saw me winking at him; whereupon the woman looked at me and
made a sign with her hand and went away. The Turcoman followed
her and I counted him dead, without recourse; wherefore I feared
with an exceeding fear and shut my shop. Then I journeyed for a
year's space and returning, opened my shop; whereupon, behold,
the woman came up to me and said, 'This is none other than a
great absence.' Quoth I, 'I have been on a journey;' and she
said, 'Why didst thou wink at the Turcoman?' 'God forbid!'
answered I. 'I did not wink at him.' Quoth she, 'Beware lest thou
cross me;' and went away.
Awhile after this a friend of mine invited me to his house and
when I came to him, we ate and drank and talked. Then said he to
me, 'O my friend, hath there befallen thee in thy life aught of
calamity?' 'Nay,' answered I; 'but tell me [first], hath there
befallen thee aught?' ['Yes,'] answered he. 'Know that one day I
espied a fair woman; so I followed her and invited her [to come
home with me]. Quoth she, "I will not enter any one's house; but
come thou to my house, if thou wilt, and be it on such a day."
Accordingly, on the appointed day, her messenger came to me,
purposing to carry me to her; so I arose and went with him, till
we came to a handsome house and a great door. He opened the door
and I entered, whereupon he locked the door [behind me] and would
have gone in, but I feared with an exceeding fear and foregoing
him to the second door, whereby he would have had me enter,
locked it and cried out at him, saying, "By Allah, an thou open
not to me, I will kill thee; for I am none of those whom thou
canst cozen!" Quoth he, "What deemest thou of cozenage?" And I
said, "Verily, I am affrighted at the loneliness of the house and
the lack of any at the door thereof; for I see none appear." "O
my lord," answered he, "this is a privy door." "Privy or public,"
answered I, "open to me."
So he opened to me and I went out and had not gone far from the
house when I met a woman, who said to me, "Methinks a long life
was fore-ordained to thee; else hadst thou not come forth of
yonder house." "How so?" asked I, and she answered, "Ask thy
friend [such an one," naming thee,] "and he will acquaint thee
with strange things." So, God on thee, O my friend, tell me what
befell thee of wonders and rarities, for I have told thee what
befell me.' 'O my brother,' answered I, 'I am bound by a solemn
oath.' And he said, 'O my friend, break thine oath and tell me.'
Quoth I, 'Indeed, I fear the issue of this.' [But he importuned
me] till I told him all, whereat he marvelled. Then I went away
from him and abode a long while, [without farther news].
One day, another of my friends came to me and said 'A neighbour
of mine hath invited me to hear [music]. [And he would have me go
with him;] but I said, 'I will not
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