The Arabian Nights Entertainments — Volume 01
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Title: The Arabian Nights Entertainments — Volume 01
Translator: Jonathan Scott
Release date: May 1, 2004 [eBook #5664]
Most recently updated: June 28, 2026
Language: English
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ARABIAN NIGHTS ENTERTAINMENTS — VOLUME 01 ***
The "Aldine" Edition of
The Arabian Nights Entertainments
Illustrated by S. L. Wood
FROM THE TEXT OF DR. JONATHAN SCOTT
In Four Volumes
Volume 1
Only 500 copies of the Small Paper Edition are printed
for America, of which this is No. 217
London
Pickering and Chatto
1890
The Publishers' Preface.
This, the "Aldine Edition" of "The Arabian Nights
Entertainments," forms the first four volumes of a proposed
series of reprints of the Standard works of fiction which have
appeared in the English language.
It is our intention to publish the series in an artistic way,
well illustrating a text typographically as perfect as possible.
The texts in all cases will be carefully chosen from approved
editions.
The series is intended for those who appreciate well printed and
illustrated books, or who are in want of a handy and handsome
edition of such works to place upon their bookshelves.
The exact origin of the Tales, which appear in the Arabic as "The
Thousand and One Nights," is unknown. The Caliph Haroon al
Rusheed, who, figures in so lifelike a manner in many of the
stories, was a contemporary of the Emperor Charlemagne, and there
is internal evidence that the collection was made in the Arabic
language about the end of the tenth century.
They undoubtedly convey a picturesque impression of the manners,
sentiments, and customs of Eastern Mediaeval Life.
The stories were translated from the Arabic by M. Galland and
first found their way into English in 1704, when they were
retranslated from M. Galland's French text and at once became
exceedingly popular.
This process of double translation had great disadvantages; it
induced Dr. Jonathan Scott, Oriental Professor, to publish in
1811, a new edition, revised and corrected from the Arabic.
It is upon this text that the present edition is formed.
It will be found free from that grossness which is unavoidable in
a strictly literal translation of the original into English; and
which has rendered the splendid translations of Sir R. Burton and
Mr. J. Payne quite unsuitable as the basis of a popular edition,
though at the same time stamping the works as the two most
perfect editions for the student.
The scholarly translation of Lane, by the too strict an adherence
to Oriental forms of expression, and somewhat pedantic rendering
of the spelling of proper names, is found to be tedious to a very
large number of readers attracted by the rich imagination,
romance, and humour of these tales.
The Arabian Nights Entertainments.
The chronicles of the Sassanians, ancient kings of Persia, who
extended their empire into the Indies, over all the adjacent
islands, and a great way beyond the Ganges, as far as China,
acquaint us, that there was formerly a king of that potent
family, who was regarded as the most excellent prince of his
time. He was as much beloved by his subjects for his wisdom and
prudence, as he was dreaded by his neighbours, on account of his
velour, and well-disciplined troops. He had two sons; the elder
Shier-ear, the worthy heir of his father, and endowed with all
his virtues; the younger Shaw-zummaun, a prince of equal merit.
After a long and glorious reign, this king died; and Shier-ear
mounted his throne. Shaw-zummaun, being excluded from all share
in the government by the laws of the empire, and obliged to live
a private life, was so far from envying the happiness of his
brother, that he made it his whole business to please him, and in
this succeeded without much difficulty. Shier-ear, who had
naturally a great affection the prince his brother, gave him the
kingdom of Great Tartary. Shaw-zummaun went immediately and took
possession of it, and fixed the seat of his government at
Samarcand, the metropolis of the country.
After they had been separated ten years, Shier-ear, being very
desirous of seeing his brother, resolved to send an ambassador to
invite him to his court. He made choice of his prime vizier for
the embassy, and sent him to Tartary, with a retinue answerable
to his dignity. The vizier proceeded with all possible expedition
to Samarcand. When he came near the city, Shaw-zummaun was
informed of his approach, and went to meet him attended by the
principal lords of his court, who, to shew the greater honour to
the sultan's minister, appeared in magnificent apparel. The king
of Tartary received the ambassador with the greatest
demonstrations of joy; and immediately asked him concerning the
welfare of the sultan his brother. The vizier having acquainted
him that he was in health, informed him of the purpose of his
embassy. Shaw-zummaun was much affected, and answered: "Sage
vizier, the sultan my brother does me too much honour; nothing
could be more agreeable to me, for I as ardently long to see him
as he does to see me. Time has not diminished my friendship more
than his. My kingdom is in peace, and I want no more than ten
days to get myself ready to return with you. There is therefore
no necessity for your entering the city for so short a period. I
pray you to pitch your tents here, and I will order everything
necessary to be provided for yourself and your attendants." The
vizier readily complied; and as soon as the king returned to the
city, he sent him a prodigious quantity of provisions of all
sorts, with presents of great value.
In the meanwhile, Shaw-zummaun prepared for his journey, gave
orders about his most important affairs, appointed a council to
govern in his absence, and named a minister, of whose wisdom he
had sufficient experience, and in whom he had entire confidence,
to be their president. At the end of ten days, his equipage being
ready, he took leave of the queen his wife, and went out of town
in the evening with his retinue. He pitched his royal pavilion
near the vizier's tent, and conversed with him till midnight.
Wishing once more to see the queen, whom he ardently loved, he
returned alone to his palace, and went directly to her majesty's
apartments. But she, not expecting his return, had taken one of
the meanest officers of her household to her bed.
The king entered without noise, and pleased himself to think how
he should surprise his wife who he thought loved him with
reciprocal tenderness. But how great was his astonishment, when,
by the light of the flambeau, he beheld a man in her arms! He
stood immovable for some time, not knowing how to believe his own
eyes. But finding there was no room for doubt, "How!" said he to
himself, "I am scarcely out of my palace, and but just under the
walls of Samarcand, and dare they put such an outrage upon me?
Perfidious wretches! your crime shall not go unpunished. As a
king, I am bound to punish wickedness committed in my dominions;
and as an enraged husband, I must sacrifice you to my just
resentment." The unfortunate prince, giving way to his rage, then
drew his cimeter, and approaching the bed killed them both with
one blow, their sleep into death; and afterwards taking them up,
he threw them out of a window into the ditch that surrounded the
palace.
Having thus avenged himself, he returned to his pavilion without
saying one word of what had happened, gave orders that the tents
should be struck, and everything made ready for his journey. All
was speedily prepared, and before day he began his march, with
kettle-drums and other instruments of music, that filled everyone
with joy, excepting the king; he was so much afflicted by the
disloyalty of his wife, that he was seized with extreme
melancholy, which preyed upon his spirits during the whole of his
journey.
When he drew near the capital of the Indies, the sultan Shier-ear
and all his court came out to meet him. The princes were
overjoyed to see one another, and having alighted, after mutual
embraces and other marks of affection and respect, remounted, and
entered the city, amidst the acclamations of the people. The
sultan conducted his brother to the palace provided for him,
which had a communication with his own by a garden. It was so
much the more magnificent as it was set apart as a banqueting-
house for public entertainments, and other diversions of the
court, and its splendour had been lately augmented by new
furniture.
Shier-ear immediately left the king of Tartary, that he might
give him time to bathe, and to change his apparel. As soon as he
had done, he returned to him again, and they sat down together on
a sofa or alcove. The courtiers out of respect kept at a
distance, and the two princes entertained one another suitably to
their friendship, their consanguinity, and their long separation.
The time of supper being come, they ate together, after which
they renewed their conversation, which continued till Shier-ear,
perceiving that it was very late, left his brother to repose.
The unfortunate Shaw-zummaun retired to bed. Though the
conversation of his brother had suspended his grief for some
time, it returned again with increased violence; so that, instead
of taking his necessary rest, he tormented himself with the
bitterest reflections. All the circumstances of his wife's
disloyalty presented themselves afresh to his imagination, in so
lively a manner, that he was like one distracted. being able to
sleep, he arose, and abandoned himself to the most afflicting
thoughts, which made such an impression upon his countenance, as
it was impossible for the sultan not to observe. "What," said he,
"can be the matter with the king of Tartary that he is so
melancholy? Has he any cause to complain of his reception? No,
surely; I have received him as a brother whom I love, so that I
can charge myself with no omission in that respect. Perhaps it
grieves him to be at such a distance from his dominions, or from
the queen his wife? If that be the case, I must forthwith give
him the presents I designed for him, that he may return to
Samarcand." Accordingly the next day Shier-ear sent him part of
those presents, being the greatest rarities and the richest
things that the Indies could afford. At the same time he
endeavoured to divert his brother every day by new objects of
pleasure, and the most splendid entertainments. But these,
instead of affording him ease, only increased his sorrow.
One day, Shier-ear having appointed a great hunting-match, about
two days journey from his capital, in a place that abounded with
deer, Shaw-zummaun besought him to excuse his attendance, for his
health would not allow him to bear him company. The sultan,
unwilling to put any constraint upon him, left him at his
liberty, and went a-hunting with his nobles. The king of Tartary
being thus left alone, shut himself up in his apartment, and sat
down at a window that looked into the garden. That delicious
place, and the sweet harmony of an infinite number of birds,
which chose it for their retreat, must certainly have diverted
him, had he been capable of taking pleasure in anything; but
being perpetually tormented with the fatal remembrance of his
queen's infamous conduct, his eyes were not so much fixed upon
the garden, as lifted up to heaven to bewail his misfortune.
While he was thus absorbed in grief, a circumstance occurred
which attracted the whole of his attention. A secret gate of the
sultan's palace suddenly opened, and there came out of it twenty
women, in the midst of whom walked the sultaness, who was easily
distinguished from the rest by her majestic air. This princess
thinking that the king of Tartary was gone a-hunting with his
brother the sultan, came with her retinue near the windows of his
apartment. For the prince had so placed himself that he could see
all that passed in the garden without being perceived himself. He
observed, that the persons who accompanied the sultaness threw
off their veils and long robes, that they might be more at their
ease, but he was greatly surprised to find that ten of them were
black men, and that each of these took his mistress. The
sultaness, on her part, was not long without her gallant. She
clapped her hands, and called "Masoud, Masoud," and immediately a
black descended from a tree, and ran towards her with great
speed.
Modesty will not allow, nor is it necessary, to relate what
passed between the blacks and the ladies. It is sufficient to
say, that Shaw-zummaun saw enough to convince him, that his
brother was as much to be pitied as himself. This amorous company
continued together till midnight, and having bathed together in a
great piece of water, which was one of the chief ornaments of the
garden, they dressed themselves, and re-entered the palace by the
secret door, all except Masoud, who climbed up his tree, and got
over the garden wall as he had come in.
These things having passed in the king of Tartary's sight, filled
him with a multitude of reflections. "How little reason had I,"
said he, "to think that none was so unfortunate as myself? It is
surely the unavoidable fate of all husbands, since even the
sultan my brother, who is sovereign of so-many dominions, and the
greatest prince of the earth, could not escape. Such being the
case, what a fool am I to kill myself with grief? I am resolved
that the remembrance of a misfortune so common shall never more
disturb my peace."
From that moment he forbore afflicting himself. He called for his
supper, ate with a better appetite than he had done since his
leaving Samarcand, and listened with some degree of pleasure to
the agreeable concert of vocal and instrumental music that was
appointed to entertain him while at table.
He continued after this very cheerful; and when he was informed
that the sultan was returning, went to meet him, and paid him his
compliments with great gaiety. Shier-ear at first took no notice
of this alteration. He politely expostulated with him for not
bearing him company, and without giving him time to reply,
entertained him with an account of the great number of deer and
other game they had killed, and the pleasure he had received in
the chase. Shaw-zummaun heard him with attention; and being now
relieved from the melancholy which had before depressed his
spirits, and clouded his talents, took up the conversation in his
turn, and spoke a thousand agreeable and pleasant things to the
sultan.
Shier-ear, who expected to have found him in the same state as he
had left him, was overjoyed to see him so cheerful: "Dear
brother," said he, "I return thanks to heaven for the happy
change it has wrought in you during my absence. I am indeed
extremely rejoiced. But I have a request to make to you, and
conjure you not to deny me."I can refuse you nothing," replied
the king of Tartary; "you may command Shaw-zummaun as you please:
speak, I am impatient to know what you desire of me." "Ever since
you came to my court," resumed Shier-ear, "I have found you
immersed in a deep melancholy, and I have in vain attempted to
remove it by different diversions. I imagined it might be
occasioned by your distance from your dominions, or that love
might have a great share in it; and that the queen of Samarcand,
who, no doubt, is an accomplished beauty, might be the cause. I
do not know whether I am mistaken in my conjecture; but I must
own, that it was for this very reason I would not importune you
upon the subject, for fear of making you uneasy. But without
myself contributing anything towards effecting the change, I find
on my return that your mind is entirely delivered from the black
vapour which disturbed it. Pray do me the favour to tell me why
you were so melancholy, and wherefore you are no longer so."
The king of Tartary continued for some time as if he had been
meditating and contriving what he should answer; but at last
replied, "You are my sultan and master; but excuse me, I beseech
you, from answering your question." "No, dear brother," said the
sultan, "you must answer me, I will take no denial." Shaw-
zummaun, not being able to withstand these pressing entreaties,
replied, "Well then, brother, I will satisfy you, since you
command me ;" and having told him the story of the queen of
Samarcand's treachery "This," said he, "was the cause of my
grief; judge whether I had not sufficient reason for my
depression."
"O! my brother," said the sultan, (in a tone which shewed what
interest he took in the king of Tartary's affliction), "what a
horrible event do you tell me! I commend you for punishing the
traitors who offered you such an outrage. None can blame you for
what you have done. It was just; and for my part, had the case
been mine, 1 should scarcely have been so moderate. I could not
have satisfied myself with the life of one woman; I should have
sacrificed a thousand to my fury. I now cease to wonder at your
melancholy. The cause was too afflicting and too mortifying not
to overwhelm you. O heaven! what a strange adventure! Nor do I
believe the like ever befell any man but yourself. But I must
bless God, who has comforted you; and since I doubt not but your
consolation is well-grounded, be so good as to inform me what it
is, and conceal nothing from me." Shaw-zummaun was not so easily
prevailed upon in this point as he had been in the other, on his
brother's account. But being obliged to yield to his pressing
instances, answered, "I must obey you then, since your command is
absolute, yet I am afraid that my obedience will occasion your
trouble to be greater than my own. But you must blame yourself,
since you force me to reveal what I should otherwise have buried
in eternal Oblivion." "What you say," answered Shier-ear, "serves
only to increase my curiosity. Discover the secret, whatever it
be." The king of Tartary being no longer able to refuse, related
to him the particulars of the blacks in disguise, of the
ungoverned passion of the sultaness, and her ladies; nor did he
forget Masoud. After having been witness to these infamous
actions, he continued, "I believed all women to be naturally
lewd; and that they could not resist their inclination. Being of
this opinion, it seemed to me to be in men an unaccountable
weakness to place any confidence in their fidelity. This
reflection brought on many others; and in short, I thought the
best thing I could do was to make myself easy. It cost me some
pains indeed, but at last I grew reconciled; and if you will take
my advice, you will follow my example."
Though the advice was good, the sultan could not approve of it,
but fell into a rage. "What!" said he, "is the sultaness of the
Indies capable of prostituting herself in so base a manner! No,
brother, I cannot believe what you state unless I beheld it with
my own eyes. Yours must needs have deceived you; the matter is so
important that I must be satisfied of it myself." "Dear brother,"
answered Shaw-zummaun, "that you may without much difficulty.
Appoint another hunting-match, and when we are out of town with
your court and mine, we will rest under our tents, and at night
let you and I return unattended to my apartments. I am certain
the next day you will see a repetition of the scene." The sultan
approving the stratagem, immediately appointed another hunting-
match. And that same day the tents were pitched at the place
appointed.
The next day the two princes set out with all their retinue; they
arrived at the place of encampment, and stayed there till night.
Shier-ear then called his grand vizier, and, without acquainting
him with his design, commanded him during his absence to suffer
no person to quit the camp on any presence whatever. As soon as
he had given this order, the king of Grand Tartary and he took
horse, passed through the camp incognito, returned to the city,
and went to Shaw-zummaun's apartment. They had scarcely placed
themselves in the window whence the king of Tartary had beheld
the scene of the disguised blacks, when the secret gate opened,
the sultaness and her ladies entered the garden with the blacks,
and she having called to Masoud, the sultan saw more than enough
fully to convince him of his dishonour and misfortune.
"Oh heavens!" he exclaimed, "what indignity! What horror! Can the
wife of a sovereign be capable of such infamous conduct? After
this, let no prince boast of being perfectly happy. Alas! my
brother," continued he, embracing the king of Tartery, "let us
both renounce the world, honour is banished out of it; if it
flatter us one day, it betrays us the next. Let us abandon our
dominions, and go into foreign countries, where we may lead an
obscure life, and conceal our misfortunes." Shaw-zummaun did not
at all approve of this plan, but did not think fit to contradict
Shierear in the heat of his passion. "Dear brother," he replied,
"your will shall be mine. I am ready to follow you whithersoever
you please: but promise me that you will return, if we meet with
any one more unhappy than ourselves." "To this I agree," said the
sultan, "but doubt much whether we shall." "I am not of your
opinion in this," replied the king of Tartary; "I fancy our
journey will be but short." Having thus resolved, they went
secretly out of the palace. They travelled as long as day-light
continued; and lay the first night under trees. They arose about
break of day, went on till they came to a fine meadow on the
seashore, that was be-sprinkled with large trees They sat down
under one of them to rest and refresh themselves, and the chief
subject of their conversation was the infidelity or their wives.
They had not rested long, before they heard a frightful noise
from the sea, and a terrible cry, which filled them with fear.
The sea then opened, and there arose something like a great black
column, which reached almost to the clouds. This redoubled their
terror, made them rise with haste, and climb up into a tree m
bide themselves. They had scarcely got up, when looking to the
place from whence the noise proceeded, and where the sea had
opened, they observed that the black column advanced, winding
about towards the: shore, cleaving the water before it. They
could not at first think what this could mean, but in a little
time they found that it was one of those malignant genies that
are mortal enemies to mankind, and are always doing them
mischief. He was black and frightful, had the shape of a giant,
of a prodigious stature, and carried on his head a large glass
box, fastened with four locks of fine steel. He entered the
meadow with his burden, which he laid down just at the foot of
the tree where the two princes were concealed, who gave
themselves over as lost. The genie sat down by his box, and
opening it with four keys that he had at his girdle, there came
out a lady magnificently appareled, of a majestic stature, and
perfect beauty. The monster made her sit down by him, and eyeing
her with an amorous look, said, "Lady, nay, most accomplished of
all ladies who are admired for their beauty, my charming
mistress, whom I carried off on your wedding-day, and have loved
so constantly ever since, let me sleep a few moments by you; for
I found myself so very drowsy that I came to this place to take a
little rest." Having spoken thus, he laid down his huge head upon
the lady's knees, and stretching out his legs, which reached as
far as the sea, he fell asleep presently, and snored so loud that
he made the shores echo.
The lady happening at this time to look up, saw the two princes
in the tree, and made a sign to them with her hand to come down
without making any noise. Their fear was extreme when they found
themselves discovered, and they prayed the lady, by other signs,
to excuse them. But she, after having laid the monster's head
softly on the ground, rose up and spoke to them, with a low but
eager voice, to come down to her; she would take no denial. They
informed her by signs that they were afraid of the genie, and
would fain have been excused. Upon which she ordered them to come
down, and threatened if they did not make haste, to awaken the
genie, and cause him to put them to death.
These words so much intimidated the princes, that they began to
descend with all possible precaution lest they should awake the
genie. When they had come down, the lady took them by the hand,
and going a little farther with them under the trees, made them a
very urgent proposal. At first they rejected it, but she obliged
them to comply by her threats. Having obtained what she desired,
she perceived that each of them had a ring on his finger, which
she demanded. As soon as she had received them, she pulled out a
string of other rings, which she shewed the princes, and asked
them if they knew what those jewels meant? "No," said they, "we
hope you will be pleased to inform us." "These are," she replied,
"the rings of all the men to whom I have granted my favours.
There are fourscore and eighteen, which I keep as memorials of
them; and I asked for yours to make up the hundred. So that I
have had a hundred gallants already, notwithstanding the
vigilance of this wicked genie, who never leaves me. He may lock
me up in this glass box and hide me in the bottom of the sea; but
I find methods to elude his vigilance. You may see by this, that
when a woman has formed a project, there is no husband or lover
that can prevent her from putting it in execution. Men had better
not put their wives under such restraint, as it only serves to
teach them cunning." Having spoken thus to them, she put their
rings on the same string with the rest, and sitting down by the
monster, as before, laid his head again upon her lap, end made a
sign to the princes to depart.
They returned immediately the way they had come, and when they
were out of sight of the lady and the genie Shier-ear said to
Shaw-zummaun "Well, brother, what do you think of this adventure?
Has not the genie a very faithful mistress? And do you not agree
that there is no wickedness equal to that of women?" "Yes,
brother," answered the king of Great Tartary; "and you must also
agree that the monster is more unfortunate, and more to be pitied
than ourselves. Therefore, since we have found what we sought
for, let us return to our dominions, and let not this hinder us
from marrying. For my part, I know a method by which to preserve
the fidelity of my wife inviolable. I will say no more at
present, but you will hear of it in a little time, and I am sure
you will follow my example." The sultan agreed with his brother;
and continuing their journey, they arrived in the camp the third
night after their departure.
The news of the sultan's return being spread, the courtiers came
betimes in the morning before his pavilion to wait his pleasure.
He ordered them to enter, received them with a more pleasant air
than he had formerly done, and gave each of them a present. After
which, he told them he would go no farther, ordered them to take
horse, and returned with expedition to his palace.
As soon as he arrived, he proceeded to the sultaness's apartment,
commanded her to be bound before him, and delivered her to his
grand vizier, with an order to strangle her, which was
accordingly executed by that minister, without inquiring into her
crime. The enraged prince did not stop here, but cut off the
heads of all the sultaness's ladies with his own hand. After this
rigorous punishment, being persuaded that no woman was chaste, he
resolved, in order to prevent the disloyalty of such as he should
afterwards marry, to wed one every night, and have her strangled
next morning. Having imposed this cruel law upon himself, he
swore that he would put it in force immediately after the
departure of the king of Tartary, who shortly took leave of him,
and being laden with magnificent presents, set forward on his
journey.
Shaw-zummaun having departed, Shier-ear ordered his grand vizier
to bring him the daughter of one of his generals. The vizier
obeyed. The sultan lay with her, and putting her next morning
into his hands again in order to have her strangled, commanded
him to provide him another the next night. Whatever reluctance
the vizier might feel to put such orders in execution, as he owed
blind obedience to the sultan his master, he was forced to
submit. He brought him then the daughter of a subaltern, whom he
also put to death the next day. After her he brought a citizen's
daughter; and, in a word, there was every day a maid married, and
a wife murdered.
The rumour of this unparalleled barbarity occasioned a general
consternation in the city, where there was nothing but crying and
lamentation. Here, a father in tears, and inconsolable for the
loss of his daughter; and there, tender mothers dreating lest
their daughters should share the same fate, filling the air with
cries of distress and apprehension. So that, instead of the
commendation and blessings which the sultan had hitherto received
from his subjects, their mouths were now filled with
imprecations.
The grand vizier who, as has been already observed, was the
unwilling executioner of this horrid course of injustice, had two
daughters, the elder called Scheherazade, and the younger
Dinarzade. The latter was highly accomplished; but the former
possessed courage, wit, and penetration, infinitely above her
sex. She had read much, and had so admirable a memory, that she
never forgot any thing she had read. She had successfully applied
herself to philosophy, medicine, history, and the liberal arts;
and her poetry excelled the compositions of the best writers of
her time. Besides this, she was a perfect beauty, and all her
accomplishments were crowned by solid virtue.
The vizier loved this daughter, so worthy of his affection. One
day, as they were conversing together, she said to him, "Father,
I have one favour to beg of you, and most humbly pray you to
grant it." "I will not refuse," answered he, "provided it be just
and reasonable." "For the justice of it," resumed she, "there can
be no question, and you may judge of this by the motive which
obliges me to make the request. I wish to stop that barbarity
which the sultan exercises upon the families of this city. I
would dispel those painful apprehensions which so many mothers
feel of losing their daughters in such a fatal manner." "Your
design, daughter," replied the vizier "is very commendable; but
the evil you would remedy seems to me incurable. How do you
propose to effect your purpose?" "Father," said Scheherazade,
"since by your means the sultan makes every day a new marriage, I
conjure you, by the tender affection you bear me, to procure me
the honour of his bed." The vizier could not hear this without
horror. "O heaven!" he replied in a passion, "have you lost your
senses, daughter, that you make such a dangerous request? You
know the sultan has sworn, that he will never lie above one night
with the same woman, and to command her to be killed the next
morning; would you then have me propose you to him? Consider well
to what your indiscreet zeal will expose you." "Yes, dear
father," replied the virtuous daughter, "I know the risk I run;
but that does not alarm me. If I perish, my death will be
glorious; and if I succeed, I shall do my country an important
service." "No, no," said the vizier "whatever you may offer to
induce me to let you throw yourself into such imminent danger, do
not imagine that I will ever consent. When the sultan shall
command me to strike my poniard into your heart, alas! I must
obey; and what an employment will that be for a father! Ah! if
you do not dread death, at least cherish some fears of afflicting
me with the mortal grief of imbuing my hands in your blood."
"Once more father," replied Scheherazade, "grant me the favour I
solicit." "Your stubbornness," resumed the vizier "will rouse my
anger; why will you run headlong to your ruin? They who do not
foresee the end of a dangerous enterprise can never conduct it to
a happy issue. I am afraid the same thing will happen to you as
befell the ass, which was well off, but could not remain so."
"What misfortune befell the ass?" demanded Scheherazade. "I will
tell you," replied the vizier, "if you will hear me."
The Ass, the Ox, and the Labourer.
A very wealthy merchant possessed several country-houses, where
he kept a large number of cattle of every kind. He retired with
his wife and family to one of these estates, in order to improve
it under his own direction. He had the gift of understanding the
language of beasts, but with this condition, that he should not,
on pain of death, interpret it to any one else. And this hindered
him from communicating to others what he learned by means of this
faculty.
He kept in the same stall an ox and an ass. One day as he sat
near them, and was amusing himself in looking at his children who
were playing about him, he heard the ox say to the ass,
"Sprightly, O! how happy do I think you, when I consider the ease
you enjoy, and the little labour that is required of you. You are
carefully rubbed down and washed, you have well-dressed corn, and
fresh clean water. Your greatest business is to carry the
merchant, our master, when he has any little journey to make, and
were it not for that you would be perfectly idle. I am treated in
a very different manner, and my condition is as deplorable as
yours is fortunate. Daylight no sooner appears than I am fastened
to a plough, and made to work till night, which so fatigues me,
that sometimes my strength entirely fails. Besides, the labourer,
who is always behind me, beats me continually. By drawing the
plough, my tail is all flayed; and in short, after having
laboured from morning to night, when I am brought in they give me
nothing to eat but sorry dry beans, not so much as cleansed from
dirt, or other food equally bad; and to heighten my misery, when
I have filled my belly with such ordinary stuff, I am forced to
lie all night in my own dung: so that you see I have reason to
envy your lot."
The ass did not interrupt the ox; but when he had concluded,
answered, "They that called you a foolish beast did not lie. You
are too simple; you suffer them to conduct you whither they
please, and shew no manner of resolution. In the mean time, what
advantage do you reap from all the indignities you suffer." You
kill yourself for the ease, pleasure, and profit of those who
give you no thanks for your service. But they would not treat you
so, if you had as much courage as strength. When they come to
fasten you to the stall, why do you not resist? why do you not
gore them with your horns, and shew that you arc angry, by
striking your foot against the ground? And, in short, why do not
you frighten them by bellowing aloud? Nature has furnished you
with means to command respect; but you do not use them. They
bring you sorry beans and bad straw; eat none of them, only smell
and then leave them. If you follow my advice, you will soon
experience a change, for which you will thank me."
The ox took the ass's advice in very good part, and owned he was
much obliged to him. "Dear Sprightly," added he, "I will not fail
to do as you direct, and you shall see how I will acquit myself."
Here ended their conversation, of which the merchant lost not a
word.
Early the next morning the labourer went for the ox. He fastened
him to the plough and conducted him to his usual work. The ox,
who had not forgotten the ass's counsel, was very troublesome and
untowardly all that day, and in the evening, when the labourer
brought him back to the stall, and began to fasten him, the
malicious beast instead of presenting his head willingly as he
used to do, was restive, and drew back bellowing; and then made
at the labourer, as if he would have gored him with his horns. In
a word, he did all that the ass had advised him. The day
following, the labourer came as usual, to take the ox to his
labour; but finding the stall full of beans, the straw that he
had put in the night before not touched, and the ox lying on the
ground with his legs stretched out, and panting in a strange
manner, he believed him to be unwell, pitied him, and thinking
that it was not proper to take him to work, went immediately and
acquainted his master with his condition. The merchant perceiving
that the ox had followed all the mischievous advice of the ass,
determined to punish the latter, and accordingly ordered the
labourer to go and put him in the ox's place, and to he sure to
work him hard. The labourer did as he was desired. The ass was
forced to draw the plough all that day, which fatigued him so
much the more, as he was not accustomed to that kind of labour;
besides he had been so soundly beaten, that he could scarcely
stand when he came back.
Meanwhile, the ox was mightily pleased; he ate up all that was in
his stall, and rested himself the whole day. He rejoiced that he
had followed the ass's advice, blessed him a thousand times for
the kindness he had done him, and did not fail to express his
obligations when the ass had returned. The ass made no reply, so
vexed was he at the ill treatment he had received; but he said
within himself, "It is by my own imprudence I have brought this
misfortune upon myself. I lived happily, every thing smiled upon
me; I had all that I could wish; it is my own fault that I am
brought to this miserable condition; and if I cannot contrive
some way to get out of it, I am certainly undone." As he spoke,
his strength was so much exhausted that he fell down in his
stall, as if he had been half dead.
Here the grand vizier, himself to Scheherazade, and said,
"Daughter, you act just like this ass; you will expose yourself
to destruction by your erroneous policy. Take my advice, remain
quiet, and do not seek to hasten your death." "Father," replied
Scheherazade, "the example you have set before me will not induce
me to change my resolution. I will never cease importuning you
until you present me to the sultan as his bride." The vizier,
perceiving that she persisted in her demand, replied, "Alas!
then, since you will continue obstinate, I shall be obliged to
treat you in the same manner as the merchant whom I before
referred to treated his wife a short time after."
The merchant understanding that the ass was in a lamentable
condition, was desirous of knowing what passed between him and
the ox, therefore after supper he went out by moonlight, and sat
down by them, his wife bearing him company. After his arrival, he
heard the ass say to the ox "Comrade, tell me, I pray you, what
you intend to do to-morrow, when the labourer brings you meat?"
"What will I do?" replied the ox, "I will continue to act as you
taught me. I will draw back from him and threaten him with my
horns, as I did yesterday: I will feign myself ill, and at the
point of death." "Beware of that," replied the ass, "it will ruin
you; for as I came home this evening, I heard the merchant, our
master, say something that makes me tremble for you." "Alas! what
did you hear?" demanded the ox; "as you love me, withhold nothing
from me, my dear Sprightly." "Our master," replied the ass,
"addressed himself thus to the labourer: Since the ox does not
eat, and is not able to work, I would have him killed to-morrow,
and we will give his flesh as an alms to the poor for God's sake,
as for the skin, that will be of use to us, and I would have you
give it the currier to dress; therefore be sure to send for the
butcher.' This is what I had to tell you," said the ass. "The
interest I feel in your preservation, and my friendship for you,
obliged me to make it known to you, and to give you new advice.
As soon as they bring you your bran and straw, rise up and eat
heartily. Our master will by this think that you are recovered,
and no doubt will recall his orders for killing you; but, if you
act otherwise, you will certainly be slaughtered."
This discourse had the effect which the ass designed. The ox was
greatly alarmed, and bellowed for fear. The merchant, who heard
the conversation very attentively, fell into a loud fit of
laughter. His wife was greatly surprised, and asked, "Pray,
husband, tell me what you laugh at so heartily, that I may laugh
with you." "Wife," replied he, "you must content yourself with
hearing me laugh." "No," returned she, "I will know the reason."
"I cannot afford you that satisfaction," he, "and can only inform
you that I laugh at what our ass just now said to the ox. The
rest is a secret, which I am not allowed to reveal." "What,"
demanded she "hinders you from revealing the secret?" "If I tell
it you," replied he, "I shall forfeit my life." "You only jeer
me," cried his wife, "what you would have me believe cannot be
true. If you do not directly satisfy me as to what you laugh at,
and tell me what the ox and the ass said to one another, I swear
by heaven that you and I shall never bed together again."
Having spoken thus, she went into the house, and seating herself
in a corner, cried there all night. Her husband lay alone, and
finding next morning that she continued in the same humour, told
her, she was very foolish to afflict herself in that manner; that
the thing was not worth so much; that it concerned her very
little to know while it was of the utmost consequence to him to
keep the secret: "therefore," continued he, "I conjure you to
think no more of it." "I shall still think so much of it,"
replied she, "as never to forbear weeping till you have satisfied
my curiosity." "But I tell you very seriously," answered he,
"that it will cost me my life if I yield to your indiscreet
solicitations." "Let what will happen," said she, "I do insist
upon it." "I perceive," resumed the merchant, "that it is
impossible to bring you to reason, and since I foresee that you
will occasion your own death by your obstinacy, I will call in
your children, that they may see you before you die." Accordingly
he called for them, and sent for her father and mother, and other
relations. When they were come and had heard the reason of their
being summoned, they did all they could to convince her that she
was in the wrong, but to no purpose: she told them she would
rather die than yield that point to her husband. Her father and
mother spoke to her by herself, and told her that what she
desired to know was of no importance to her; but they could
produce no effect upon her, either by their authority or
intreaties. When her children saw that nothing would prevail to
draw her out of that sullen temper, they wept bitterly. The
merchant himself was half frantic, and almost ready to risk his
own life to save that of his wife, whom he sincerely loved.
The merchant had fifty hens and one cock, with a dog that gave
good heed to all that passed. While the merchant was considering
what he had best do, he saw his dog run towards the cock as he
was treading a hen, and heard him say to him: "Cock, I am sure
heaven will not let you live long; are you not ashamed to ad thus
to-day?" The cock standing up on tiptoe, answered fiercely: "And
why not to-day as well as other days?" "If you do not know,"
replied the dog, "then I will tell you, that this day our master
is in great perplexity. His wife would have him reveal a secret
which is of such a nature, that the disclosure would cost him his
life. Things are come to that pass, that it is to be feared he
will scarcely have resolution enough to resist his wife's
obstinacy; for he loves her, and is affected by the tears she
continually sheds. We are all alarmed at his situation, while you
only insult our melancholy, and have the impudence to divert
yourself with your hens."
The cock answered the dog's reproof thus: "What, has our master
so little sense? he has but one wife, and cannot govern her, and
though I have fifty, I make them all do what I please. Let him
use his reason, he will soon find a way to rid himself of his
trouble." "How?" demanded the dog; "what would you have him do?"
"Let him go into the room where his wife is," resumed the cock,
"lock the door, and take a stick and thrash her well; and I will
answer for it, that will bring her to her senses, and make her
forbear to importune him to discover what he ought not to
reveal." The merchant had no sooner heard what the cock said,
than he took up a stick, went to his wife, whom he found still
crying, and shutting the door, belaboured her so soundly, that
she cried out, "Enough, husband, enough, forbear, and I will
never ask the question more." Upon this, perceiving that she
repented of her impertinent curiosity, he desisted; and opening
the door, her friends came in, were glad to find her cured of her
obstinacy, and complimented her husband upon this happy expedient
to bring his wife to reason.
"Daughter," added the grand vizier, "you deserve to be treated as
the merchant treated his wife."
"Father," replied Scheherazade, "I beg you would not take it ill
that I persist in my opinion. I am nothing moved by the story of
this woman. I could relate many, to persuade you that you ought
not to oppose my design. Besides, pardon me for declaring, that
your opposition is vain; for if your paternal affection should
hinder you from granting my request, I will go and offer myself
to the sultan." In short, the father, being overcome by the
resolution of his daughter, yielded to her importunity, and
though he was much grieved that he could not divert her from so
fatal a resolution, he went instantly to acquaint the sultan,
that next night he would bring him Scheherazade.
The sultan was much surprized at the sacrifice which the grand
vizier proposed to make. "How could you", said he, "resolve to
bring me your own daughter?" "Sir," answered the vizier, "it is
her own offer. The sad destiny that awaits her could not
intimidate her; she prefers the honour of being your majesty's
wile for one night, to her life." "But do not act under a
mistake, vizier," said the sultan; "to-morrow. when I place
Scheherazade in your hands, I expect you will put her to death;
and if you fail, I swear that your own life shall answer." "Sir,"
rejoined the vizier "my heart without doubt will be full of grief
to execute your commands; but it is to no purpose for nature to
murmur. Though I am her father, I will answer for the fidelity of
my hand to obey your order." Shier-ear accepted his minister's
offer, and told him he might bring his daughter when he pleased.
T'he grand vizicr went with the intelligence to Schcherazade, who
received it with as much joy as if it had been the most agreeable
information she could have received. She thanked her father for
having so greatly obliged her; and perceiving that he was
overwhelmed with grief, told him for his consolation, that she
hoped he would never repent of having married her to the sultan;
and that, on the contrary, he should have reason to rejoice at
his compliance all his days.
Her business now was to adorn herself to appear before the
sultan; but before she went, she took her sister Dinarzade apart,
and said to her, "My dear sister, I have need of your assistance
in a matter of great importance, and must pray you not to deny it
me. My father is going to conduct me to the sultan; do not let
this alarm you, but hear me with patience. As soon as I am in his
presence, I will pray him to allow you to lie in the bride-
chamber, that I may enjoy your company this one night more. If I
obtain that favour, as I hope to do, remember to awake me to-
morrow an hour before day, and to address me in these or some
such words: My sister, if you be not asleep, I pray you that
till day-break, which will be very shortly, you will relate to me
one of the entertaining stories of which you have read so many.'
I will immediately tell you one; and I hope by this means to
deliver the city from the consternation it is under at present."
Dinarzade answered that she would with pleasure act as she
required her.
The grand vizier conducted Schcherazade to the palace, and
retired, after having introduced her into the sultan's apartment.
As soon as the sultan was left alone with her, he ordered her to
uncover her face: he found her so beautiful that he was perfectly
charmed; but perceiving her to be in tears, demanded the reason.
"Sir," answered Scheherazade, "I have a sister who loves me
tenderly, and I could wish that she might be allowed to pass the
night in this chamber, that I might see her, and once more bid
her adieu. Will you be pleased to allow me the consolation of
giving her this last testimony of my affection?" Shier-ear having
consented, Dinarzade was sent for, who came with all possible
expedition.
An hour before day, Dinarzade failed not to do as her sister had
ordered. "My dear sister," cried she, "if you be not asleep, I
pray that until daybreak, which will be very shortly, you will
tell me one of those pleasant stories you have read. Alas! this
may perhaps be the last time that I shall enjoy that pleasure."
Scheherazade, instead of answering her sister, addressed herself
to the sultan: "Sir, will your majesty be pleased to allow me to
afford my sister this satisfaction?" "With all my heart," replied
the sultan. Scheherazade then bade her sister attend, and
afterwards, addressing herself to Shier-ear, proceeded as
follows.
THE MERCHANT AND THE GENIE.
There was formerly a merchant who possessed much property in
lands, goods, and money, and had a great number of clerks,
factors, and slaves. He was obliged from time to time to visit
his correspondents on business; and one day being under the
necessity of going a long journey on an affair of importance, he
took horse, and carried with him a wallet containing biscuits and
dates, because he had a great desert to pass over, where he could
procure no sort of provisions. He arrived without any accident at
the end of his journey; and having dispatched his affairs, took
horse again, in order to return home.
The fourth day of his journey, he was so much incommoded by the
heat of the sun, and the reflection of that heat from the earth,
that he turned out of the road, to refresh himself under some
trees. He found at the root of a large tree a fountain of very
clear running water. Having alighted, he tied his horse to a
branch, and sitting down by the fountain, took some biscuits and
dates out of his wallet. As he ate his dates, he threw the shells
carelessly in different directions. When he had finished his
repast, being a good Moosulmaun, he washed his hands, face, and
feet, and said his prayers. Before he had finished, and while he
was yet on his knees, he saw a genie, white with age, and of a
monstrous bulk, advancing towards him with a cimeter in his hand.
The genie spoke to him in a terrible voice: "Rise, that I may
kill thee with this cimeter, as thou hast killed my son;" and
accompanied these words with a frightful cry. The merchant being
as much alarmed at the hideous shape of the monster as at his
threatening language, answered him, trembling, "Alas! my good
lord, of what crime can I be guilty towards you, that you should
take away my life?" "I will," replied the genie, "kill thee, as
thou hast killed my son." "Heavens," exclaimed the merchant, "how
could I kill your son? I never knew, never saw him." "Did not you
sit down when you came hither?" demanded the genie: "did you not
take dates out of your wallet, and as you ate them, did not you
throw the shells about in different directions?" "I did all that
you say," answered the merchant, "I cannot deny it." "If it be
so," resumed the genie, "I tell thee that thou hast killed my
son; and in this manner: When thou wert throwing the shells
about, my son was passing by, and thou didst throw one into his
eye, which killed him; therefore I must kill thee." "Ah! my lord!
pardon me!" cried the merchant. "No pardon," exclaimed the genie,
"no mercy. Is it not just to kill him that has killed another?"
"I agree it is," replied the merchant, "but certainly I never
killed your son; and if I have, it was unknown to me, and I did
it innocently; I beg you therefore to pardon me, and suffer me to
live." "No, no," returned the genie, persisting in his
resolution, "I must kill thee, since thou hast killed my son."
Then taking the merchant by the arm, he threw him with his face
on the ground, and lifted up his cimeter to cut off his head.
The merchant, with tears, protested he was innocent, bewailed his
wife and children, and supplicated the genie, in the most moving
expressions. The genie, with his cimeter still lifted up, had the
patience to hear his unfortunate victims to the end of his
lamentations, but would not relent. "All this whining," said the
monster, "is to no purpose; though you should shed tears of
blood, they should not hinder me from killing thee, as thou hast
killed my son." "What!" exclaimed the merchant, "can nothing
prevail with you? Will you absolutely take away the life of a
poor innocent?" "Yes," replied the genie, "I am resolved."
As soon as she had spoken these words, perceiving it was day, and
knowing that the sultan rose early in the morning to say his
prayers, and hold his council, Scheherazade discontinued her
story. "Dear sister," said Dinarzade, "what a wonderful story is
this!" "The remainder of it," replied Scheherazade "is more
surprising, and you will be of this opinion, if the sultan will
but permit me to live over this day, and allow me to proceed with
the relation the ensuing night." Shier-ear, who had listened to
Scheherazade with much interest, said to himself, "I will wait
till to-morrow, for I can at any time put her to death when she
has concluded her story." Having thus resolved not to put
Scheherazade to death that day, he rose and went to his prayers,
and to attend his council.
During this time the grand vizier was in the utmost distress.
Instead of sleeping, he spent the night in sighs and groans,
bewailing the lot of his daughter, of whom he believed he should
himself shortly be the executioner. As, with this melancholy
prospect before him, he dreaded to meet the sultan, he was
agreeably surprised when he found the prince entered the council
chamber without giving him the fatal orders he expected.
The sultan, according to his custom, spent the day in regulating
his affairs; and when the night had closed in, retired with
Scheherazade. The next morning before day, Dinarzade failed not
to call to her sister: "My dear sister, if you be not asleep, I
pray you till day-break, which is very near, to go on with the
story you began last night." The sultan, without waiting for
Scheherazade to ask his permission, bade her proceed with the
story of the genie and the merchant; upon which Scheherazade
continued her relation as follows. [FN: In the original work
Scheherazade continually breaks off to ask the sultan to spare
her life for another day, that she may finish the story she is
relating. As these interruptions considerably interfere with the
continued interest of the stories, it has been deemed advisable
to omit them.]
When the merchant saw that the genie was going to cut off his
head, he cried out aloud to him, "For heaven's sake hold your
hand! Allow me one word. Have the goodness to grant me some
respite, to bid my wife and children adieu, and to divide my
estate among them by will, that they may not go to law after my
death. When I have done this, I will come back and submit to
whatever you shall please to command." "But," said the genie, "if
I grant you the time you ask, I doubt you will never return?" "If
you will believe my oath," answered the merchant, "I swear by all
that is sacred, that I will come and meet you here without fail."
"What time do you require then?" demanded the genie. "I ask a
year," said the merchant; "I cannot in less settle my affairs,
and prepare myself to die without regret. But I promise you, that
this day twelve months I will return under these trees, to put
myself into your hands." "Do you take heaven to be witness to
this promise?" said the genie. "I do," answered the merchant,
"and you may rely on my oath." Upon this the genie left him near
the fountain, and disappeared.
The merchant being recovered from his terror, mounted his horse,
and proceeded on his journey, glad on the one hand that he had
escaped so great a danger, but grieved on the other, when he
reflected on his fatal oath. When he reached home, his wife and
children received him with all the demonstrations of perfect joy.
But he, instead of returning their caresses, wept so bitterly,
that his family apprehended something calamitous had befallen
him. His wife enquire reason of his excessive grief and tears;
"We are all overjoyed," said she, "at your return; but you alarm
us by your lamentations; pray tell us the cause of your sorrow."
"Alas!" replied the husband, "I have but a year to live." He then
related what had passed betwixt him and the genie, and informed
her that he had given him his oath to return at the end of the
year, to receive death from his hands.
When they heard this afflicting intelligence, they all began to
lament in the most distressing manner. His wife uttered the most
piteous cries, beat her face, and tore her hair. The children,
all in tears, made the house resound with their groans; and the
father, not being able to resist the impulse of nature, mingled
his tears with theirs: so that, in a word, they exhibited the
most affecting spectacle possible.
On the following morning the merchant applied himself to put his
affairs in order; and first of all to pay his debts. He made
presents to his friends, gave liberal alms to the poor, set his
slaves of both sexes at liberty, divided his property among his
children, appointed guardians for such of them as were not of
age; and after restoring to his wife all that was due to her by
their marriage contract, he gave her in addition as much as the
law would allow him.
At last the year expired, and he was obliged to depart. He put
his burial clothes in his wallet; but when he came to bid his
wife and children adieu, their grief surpassed description. They
could not reconcile their minds to the separation, but resolved
to go and die with him. When, however, it became necessary for
him to tear himself from these dear objects, he addressed them in
the following terms: "My dear wife and children, I obey the will
of heaven in quitting you. Follow my example, submit with
fortitude to this necessity, and consider that it is the destiny
of man to die." Having thus spoken, he went out of the hearing of
the cries of his family; and pursuing his journey, arrived on the
day appointed at the place where he had promised to meet the
genie. He alighted, and seating himself down by the fountain,
waited the coming of the genie, with all the sorrow imaginable.
Whilst he languished under this painful expectation, an old man
leading a hind appeared and drew near him. After they had saluted
one another, the old man said to him, "Brother, may I ask why you
are come into this desert place, which is possessed solely by
evil spirits, and where consequently you cannot be safe? From the
beautiful trees which are seen here, one might indeed suppose the
place inhabited; but it is in reality a wilderness, where it is
dangerous to remain long."
The merchant satisfied his curiosity, and related to him the
adventure which obliged him to be there. The old man listened
with astonishment, and when he had done, exclaimed, "This is the
most surprising thing in the world! and you are bound by the most
inviolable oath. However, I will be witness of your interview
with the genie." He then seated himself by the merchant, and they
entered into conversation.
"But I see day," said Scheherazade, "and must leave off; yet the
best of the story is to come." The sultan resolving to hear the
end of it, suffered her to live that day also.
The next morning Dinarzade made the same request to her sister as
before: "My dear sister," said she, "if you be not asleep, tell
me one of those pleasant stories that you have read." But the
sultan, wishing to learn what followed betwixt the merchant and
the genie, bade her proceed with that, which she did as follows.
Sir, while the merchant and the old man who led the hind were
conversing, they saw another old man coming towards them,
followed by two black dogs; after they had saluted one another,
he asked them what they did in that place? The old man with the
hind told him the adventure of the merchant and genie, with all
that had passed between them, particularly the merchant's oath.
He added, that it was the day agreed on, and that he was resolved
to stay and see the issue.
The second old man thinking it also worth his curiosity, resolved
to do the same, and took his seat by them. They had scarcely
begun to converse together, when there arrived a third old man
leading a mule. He addressed himself to the two former, and asked
why the merchant who sat with them looked so melancholy? They
told him the reason, which appeared to him so extraordinary, that
he also resolved to witness the result; and for that purpose sat
down with them.
In a short time they perceived a thick vapour, like a cloud of
dust raised by a whirlwind, advancing towards them. When it had
come up to them it suddenly vanished, and the genie appeared;
who, without saluting them, went to the merchant with a drawn
cimeter, and taking him by the arm, said, "Get thee up, that I
may kill thee, as thou didst my son." The merchant and the three
old men began to lament and fill the air with their cries.
When the old man who led the hind saw the genie lay hold of the
merchant, and about to kill him, he threw himself at the feet of
the monster, and kissing them, said to him, "Prince of genies, I
most humbly request you to suspend your anger, and do me the
favour to hear me. I will tell you the history of my life, and of
the hind you see; and if you think it more wonderful and
surprising than the adventure of the merchant, I hope you will
pardon the unfortunate man a third of his offence." The genie
took some time to deliberate on this proposal, but answered at
last, "Well then, I agree."
The Story of the First Old Man and the Hind.
I shall begin my story then; listen to me, I pray you, with
attention. This hind you see is my cousin; nay, what is more, my
wife. She was only twelve years of age when I married her, so
that I may justly say, she ought to regard me equally as her
father, her kinsman, and her husband.
We lived together twenty years, without any children. Her
barrenness did not effect any change in my love; I still treated
her with much kindness and affection. My desire of having
children only induced me to purchase a slave, by whom I had a
son, who was extremely promising. My wife being jealous,
cherished a hatred for both mother and child, but concealed her
aversion so well, that I knew nothing of it till it was too late.
Mean time my son grew up, and was ten years old, when I was
obliged to undertake a long journey. Before I went, I recommended
to my wife, of whom I had no mistrust, the slave and her son, and
prayed her to take care of them during my absence, which was to
be for a whole year. She however employed that time to satisfy
her hatred. She applied herself to magic, and when she had learnt
enough of that diabolical art to execute her horrible design, the
wretch carried my son to a desolate place, where, by her
enchantments, she changed him into a calf, and gave him to my
farmer to fatten, pretending she had bought him. Her enmity did
not stop at this abominable action, but she likewise changed the
slave into a cow, and gave her also to my farmer.
At my return, I enquired for the mother and child. "Your slave,"
said she, "is dead; and as for your son, I know not what is
become of him, I have not seen him this two months." I was
afflicted at the death of the slave, but as she informed me my
son had only disappeared, I was in hopes he would shortly return.
However, eight months passed, and I heard nothing of him. When
the festival of the great Bairam was to be celebrated, I sent to
my farmer for one of the fattest cows to sacrifice. He
accordingly sent me one, and the cow which was brought me proved
to be my slave, the unfortunate mother of my son. I bound her,
but as I was going to sacrifice her, she bellowed piteously, and
I could perceive tears streaming from her eyes. This seemed to me
very extraordinary, and finding myself moved with compassion, I
could not find in my heart to give her a blow, but ordered my
farmer to get me another.
My wife, who was present, was enraged at my tenderness, and
resisting an order which disappointed her malice, she cried out,
"What are you doing, husband? Sacrifice that cow; your farmer has
not a finer, nor one fitter for the festival." Out of deference
to my wife, I came again to the cow, and combating my compassion,
which suspended the sacrifice, was going to give her the fatal
blow, when the victim redoubling her tears, and bellowing,
disarmed me a second time. I then put the mallet into the
farmer's hands, and desired him to take it and sacrifice her
himself, for her tears and bellowing pierced my heart.
The farmer, less compassionate than myself; sacrificed her; but
when he flayed her, found her to be nothing except bones, though
to she seemed very fat. "Take her yourself," said I to him,
"dispose of her in alms, or any way you please: and if you have a
very fat calf, bring it me in her stead." I did not enquire what
he did with the cow, but soon after he had taken her away, he
returned with a fat calf. Though I knew not the calf was my son,
yet I could not forbear being moved at the sight of him. On his
part, as soon as he beheld me, he made so great an effort to come
near me, that he broke his cord, threw himself at my feet, with
his head against the ground, as if he meant to excite my
compassion, conjuring me not to be so cruel as to take his life;
and did as much as was possible for him, to signify that he was
my son.
I was more surprised and affected with this action, than with the
tears of the cow. I felt a tender pity, which interested me on
his behalf, or rather, nature did its duty. "Go," said I to the
farmer, "carry home that calf, take great care of him, and bring
me another in his stead immediately."
As soon as my wife heard me give this order, she exclaimed, "What
are you about, husband? Take my advice, sacrifice no other calf
but that." "Wife," I replied, "I will not sacrifice him, I will
spare him, and pray do not you oppose me." The wicked woman had
no regard to my wishes; she hated my son too much to consent that
I should save him. I tied the poor creature, and taking up the
fatal knife, was going to plunge it into my son's throat, when
turning his eyes bathed with tears, in a languishing manner,
towards me, he affected me so much that I had not strength to
kill him. I let the knife fall, and told my wife positively that
I would have another calf to sacrifice, and not that. She used
all her endeavours to persuade me to change my resolution; but I
continued firm, and pacified her a little, by promising that I
would sacrifice him against the Bairam of the following year.
The next morning my farmer desired to speak with me alone. "I
come," said he, "to communicate to you a piece of intelligence,
for which I hope you will return me thanks. I have a daughter
that has some skill in magic. Yesterday, as I carried back the
calf which you would not sacrifice, I perceived she laughed when
she saw him, and in a moment after fell a weeping. I asked her
why she acted two such opposite parts at one and the same time.
rather,' replied she, the calf you bring back is our landlord's
son; I laughed for joy to see him still alive, and wept at the
remembrance of the sacrifice that was made the other day of his
mother, who was changed into a cow. These two metamorphoses were
made by the enchantments of our master's wife, who hated both the
mother and son.' This is what my daughter told me," said the
farmer, "and I come to acquaint you with it."
I leave you to judge how much I was surprised. I went immediately
to my farmer, to speak to his daughter myself. As soon as I
arrived, I went forthwith to the stall where my son was kept; he
could not return my embraces, but received them in such a manner,
as fully satisfied me he was my son.
The farmer's daughter then came to us: "My good maid," said I,
"can you restore my son to his former shape?" "Yes," she replied,
"I can." "Ah!" said I, "if you do, I will make you mistress of
all my fortune." She answered me, smiling, "You are our master,
and I well know what I owe to you; but I cannot restore your son
to his former shape, except on two conditions: the first is, that
you give him to me for my husband; and the second, that you allow
me to punish the person who changed him into a calf." "As to the
first," I replied, "I agree with all my heart: nay, I promise you
more, a considerable fortune for yourself, independently of what
I design for my son: in a word, you shall see how I will reward
the great service I expect from you. As to what relates to my
wife, I also agree; a person who has been capable of committing
such a criminal action, justly deserves to be punished. I leave
her to your disposal, only I must pray you not to take her life."
"I am going then," answered she, "to treat her as she treated
your son." "To this I consent," said I, "provided you first of
all restore to me my son."
The damsel then took a vessel full of water, pronounced over it
words that I did not understand, and addressing herself to the
calf, "O calf, if thou west created by the almighty and sovereign
master of the world such as thou appearest at this time, continue
in that form; but if thou be a man, and art changed into a calf
by enchantment, return to thy natural shape, by the permission of
the sovereign Creator." As she spoke, she threw water upon him,
and in an instant he recovered his natural form.
"My son, my dear son," cried I, immediately embracing him with
such a transport of joy that I knew not what I was doing, "it is
heaven that hath sent us this young maid, to remove the horrible
charm by which you were enchanted, and to avenge the injury done
to you and your mother. I doubt not but in acknowledgment you
will make your deliverer your wife, as I have promised." He
joyfully consented; but before they married, she changed my wife
into a hind; and this is she whom you see here. I desired she
might have this shape, rather than another less agreeable, that
we might see her in the family without horror.
Since that time, my son is become a widower, and gone to travel.
It being now several years since I heard of him, I am come abroad
to inquire after him; and not being willing to trust anybody with
my wife, till I should return home, I thought fit to take her
everywhere with me.
"This is the history of myself and this hind: is it not one of
the most wonderful and surprising?" "I admit it is," said the
genie, "and on that account forgive the merchant one third of his
crime."
When the first old man had finished his story, the second, who
led the two black dogs, addressed the genie, and said: "I am
going to tell you what happened to me, and these two black dogs
you see by me; and I am certain you will say, that my story is
yet more surprising than that which you have just heard. But when
I have done this, I hope you will be pleased to pardon the
merchant another third of his offence." "I will," replied the
genie, "provided your story surpass that of the hind." Then the
second old man began in this manner--
The Story of the Second old Man and the Two Black Dogs.
Great prince of genies, you must know that we are three brothers,
the two black dogs and myself. Our father, when he died, left
each of us one thousand sequins. With that sum, we all became
merchants. A little time after we had opened shop, my eldest
brother, one of these two dogs, resolved to travel and trade in
foreign countries. With this view, he sold his estate, and bought
goods suited to the trade intended to follow.
He went away, and was absent a whole year. At the expiration of
this time, a poor man, who I thought had come to ask alms,
presented himself before me in my shop. I said to him, "God help
you." He returned my salutation, and continued, "Is it possible
you do not know me?" Upon this I looked at him narrowly, and
recognised him: "Ah, brother," cried I, embracing him, "how could
I know you in this condition?" I made him come into my house, and
asked him concerning his health and the success of his travels.
"Do not ask me that question," said he; "when you see me, you see
all: it would only renew my grief, to relate to you the
particulars of the misfortunes I have experienced since I left
you, which have reduced me to my present condition."
I immediately shut up my shop, and taking him to a bath, gave him
the best clothes I had. Finding on examining my books, that I had
doubled my stock, that is to say, that I was worth two thousand
sequins, I gave him one half; "With that," said I, "brother, you
may make up your loss." He joyfully accepted the present, and
having repaired his fortunes, we lived together, as before.
Some time after, my second brother, who is the other of these two
dogs, would also sell his estate. His elder brother and myself
did all we could to divert him from his purpose, but without
effect. He disposed of it, and with the money bought such goods
as were suitable to the trade which he designed to follow. He
joined a caravan, and departed. At the end of the year he
returned in the same condition as my other brother. Having myself
by this time gained another thousand sequins, I made him a
present of them. With this sum he furnished his shop, and
continued his trade.
Some time after, one of my brothers came to me to propose that I
should join them in a trading voyage; I immediately declined.
"You have travelled," said I, "and what have you gained by it?
Who can assure me, that I shall be more successful than you have
been?" It was in vain that they urged open me all the
considerations they thought likely to gain me over to their
design, for I constantly refused; but after having resisted their
solicitations five whole years, they importuned me so much, that
at last they overcame my resolution. When, however, the time
arrived that we were to make preparations for our voyage, to buy
the goods necessary to the undertaking, I found they had spent
all, and had not one dirrim left of the thousand sequins I had
given to each of them. I did not, on this account, upbraid them.
On the contrary, my stock being still six thousand sequins, I
shared the half of it with them, telling them, "My brothers, we
must venture these three thousand sequins, and hide the rest in
some secure place: that in case our voyage be not more successful
than yours was formerly, we may have wherewith to assist us, and
to enable us to follow our ancient way of living." I gave each of
them a thousand sequins, and keeping as much for myself, I buried
the other three thousand in a corner of my house. We purchased
goods, and having embarked them on board a vessel, which we
freighted betwixt us, we put to sea with a favourable wind.
After two months sail, we arrived happily at port, where we
landed, and had a very good market for our goods. I, especially,
sold mine so well, that I gained ten to one. With the produce we
bought commodities of that country, to carry back with us for
sale.
When we were ready to embark on our return, I met on the sea-
shore a lady, handsome enough, but poorly clad. She walked up to
me gracefully, kissed my hand, besought me with the greatest
earnestness imaginable to marry her, and take her along with me.
I made some difficulty to agree to this proposal; but she urged
so many things to persuade me that I ought not to object to her
on account of her poverty, and that I should have all the reason
in the world to be satisfied with her conduct, that at last I
yielded. I ordered proper apparel to be made for her; and after
having married her, according to form, I took her on board, and
we set sail. I found my wife possessed so many good qualities,
that my love to her every day increased. In the mean time my two
brothers, who had not managed their affairs as successfully as I
had mine, envied my prosperity; and suffered their feelings to
carry them so far, that they conspired against my life; and one
night, when my wife and I were asleep, threw us both into the
sea.
My wife proved to be a fairy, and, by consequence, a genie, so
that she could not be drowned; but for me, it is certain I must
have perished, without her help. I had scarcely fallen into the
water, when she took me up, and carried me to an island. When day
appeared, she said to me, "You see, husband, that by saving your
life, I have not rewarded you ill for your kindness to me. You
must know, that I am a fairy, and being upon the sea-shore, when
you were going to embark, I felt a strong desire to have you for
my husband; I had a mind to try your goodness, and presented
myself before you in disguise. You have dealt generously by me,
and I am glad of an opportunity of returning my acknowledgment.
But I am incensed against your brothers, and nothing will satisfy
me but their lives."
I listened to this discourse with admiration; I thanked the fairy
the best way I could, for the great kindness she had done me;
"But, Madam," said I, "as for my brothers, I beg you to pardon
them; whatever cause of resentment they have given me, I am not
cruel enough to desire their death." I then informed her what I
had done for them, but this increased her indignation; and she
exclaimed, "I must immediately pursue those ungrateful traitors,
and take speedy vengeance on them. I will destroy their vessel,
and sink them into the bottom of the sea." "My good lady,"
replied I, "for heaven's sake forbear; moderate your anger,
consider that they are my brothers, and that we ought to return
good for evil."
I pacified her by these words; and as soon as I had concluded,
she transported me in a moment from the island to the roof of my
own house, which was terraced, and instantly disappeared. I
descended, opened the doors, and dug up the three thousand
sequins I had formerly secreted. I went afterwards to my shop,
which I also opened; and was complimented by the merchants, my
neighbours, upon my return. When I went back to my house, I
perceived there two black dogs, which came up to me in a very
submissive manner: I could not divine the meaning of this
circumstance, which greatly astonished me. But the fairy, who
immediately appeared, said, "Husband, be not surprised to see
these dogs, they are your brothers." I was troubled at this
declaration, and asked her by what power they were so
transformed. "I did it," said she, "or at least authorised one of
my sisters to do it, who at the same time sunk their ship. You
have lost the goods you had on board, but I will compensate you
another way. As to your two brothers, I have condemned them to
remain five years in that shape. Their perfidiousness too well
deserves such a penance." Having thus spoken and told me where I
might hear of her, she disappeared.
The five years being now nearly expired, I am travelling in quest
of her; and as I passed this way, I met this merchant, and the
good old man who led the hind, and sat down by them. This is my
history, O prince of genies! do not you think it very
extraordinary?" "I own it is," replied the genie, "and on that
account I remit the merchant the second third of the crime which
he has committed against me."
As soon as the second old man had finished, the third began his
story, after repeating the request of the two former, that the
genie would pardon the merchant the other third of his crime,
provided what he should relate surpassed in singularity of
incidents the narratives he had already heard. The genie made him
the same promise as he had given the others.
The third old man related his story to the genie; and it exceeded
the two former stories so much, in the variety of wonderful
adventures, that the genie was astonished; and no sooner heard
the conclusion, than he said to the old man, "I remit the other
third of the merchant's crime on account of your story. He is
greatly obliged to all of you, for having delivered him out of
his danger by what you have related, for to this he owes his
life." Having spoken thus he disappeared, to the great
contentment of the company.
The merchant failed not to make due acknowledgment to his
deliverers. They rejoiced to see him out of danger; and bidding
him adieu, each of them proceeded on his way. The merchant
returned to his wife and children, and passed the rest of his
days with them in peace.
THE STORY OF THE FISHERMAN.
There was an aged fisherman, who was so poor, that he could
scarcely as much as would maintain himself, his wife, and three
children. He went every day to fish betimes in the morning; and
imposed it as a law upon himself, not to cast his nets above four
times a-day. He went one morning by moon-light, and coming to the
seaside, undressed himself, and cast in his nets. As he drew them
towards the shore, he found them very heavy, and thought he had a
good draught of fish, at which he rejoiced; but in a moment
after, perceiving that instead of fish his nets contained nothing
but the carcass of an ass, he was much vexed.
When the fisherman had mended his nets, which the carcass of the
ass had broken in several places, he threw them in a second time;
and when he drew them, found a great deal of resistance, which
made him think he had taken abundance of fish; but he found
nothing except a basket full of gravel and slime, which grieved
him extremely. "O fortune!" cried he, with a lamentable tone, "be
not angry with me, nor persecute a wretch who prays thee to spare
him. I came hither from my house to seek for my livelihood, and
thou pronouncest against me a sentence of death. I have no other
trade but this to subsist by: and notwithstanding all my care, I
can scarcely provide what is absolutely necessary for my family.
But I am to blame to complain of thee; thou takest pleasure to
persecute honest people, and to leave great men in obscurity,
while thou shewest favour to the wicked, and advancest those who
have no virtue to recommend them."
Having finished this complaint, he fretfully threw away the
basket, and washing his nets from the slime, cast them the third
time; but brought up nothing, except stones, shells, and mud. No
language can express his disappointment; he was almost
distracted. However, when day began to appear, he did not forget
to say his prayers, like a good Moosulmaun, and he added to them
this petition: "Lord, thou knowest that I cast my nets only four
times a day; I have already drawn them three times, without the
least reward for my labour: I am only to cast them once more; I
pray thee to render the sea favourable to me, as thou didst to
Moses "
The fisherman having finished this prayer, cast his nets the
fourth time; and when he thought it was proper, drew them as
formerly, with great difficulty; but instead of fish, found
nothing in them but a vessel of yellow copper, which from its
weight seemed not to be empty; and he observed that it was shut
up and sealed with lead, having the impression of a seal upon it.
This turn of fortune rejoiced him; "I will sell it," said he, "to
the founder, and with the money buy a measure of corn." He
examined the vessel on all sides, and shook it, to try if its
contents made any noise, but heard nothing. This circumstance,
with the impression of the seal upon the leaden cover, made him
think it inclosed something precious. To try this, he took a
knife, and opened it with very little labour. He turned the mouth
downward, but nothing came out; which surprised him extremely. He
placed it before him, but while he viewed it attentively, there
came out a very thick smoke, which obliged him to retire two or
three paces back.
The smoke ascended to the clouds, and extending itself along the
sea and upon the shore formed a great mist, which we may well
imagine filled the fisherman with astonishment. When the smoke
was all out of the vessel, it re-united and became a solid body,
of which was formed a genie twice as high as the greatest of
giants. At the sight of a monster of such an unwieldy bulk, the
fisherman would fain have fled, but was so frightened, that he
could not move.
"Solomon," cried the genie immediately, "Solomon, the great
prophet, pardon, pardon; I will never more oppose your will, I
will obey all your commands."
When the fisherman heard these words of the genie, he recovered
his courage, and said to him, "Thou proud spirit, what is it you
say? It is above eighteen hundred years since the prophet Solomon
died, and we are now at the end of time. Tell me your history,
and how you came to be shut up in this vessel."
The genie turning to the fisherman, with a fierce look, said.
"Thou must speak to me with more respect; thou art a presumptuous
fellow to call me a proud spirit." "Very well," replied the
fisherman, "shall I speak to you more civilly, and call you the
owl of good luck?" "I say," answered the genie, "speak to me more
respectfully, or I will kill thee." "Ah!" replied the fisherman,
"why would you kill me? Did I not just now set you at liberty,
and have you already forgotten my services?" "Yes, I remember
it," said the genie, "but that shall not save thy life: I have
only one favour to grant thee." "And what is that?" asked the
fisherman. "It is," answered the genie, "to give thee thy choice,
in what manner thou wouldst have me put thee to death." "But
wherein have I offended you?" demanded the fisherman. "Is that
your reward for the service I have rendered you?" "I cannot treat
thee otherwise," said the genie; "and that thou mayest know the
reason, hearken to my story."
"I am one of those rebellious spirits that opposed the will of
heaven; nearly all the other genies owned Solomon, the great
prophet, and yielded to his authority. Sabhir and I were the only
two that would never be guilty of a mean submission: and to
avenge himself, that great monarch sent Asaph, the son of
Barakhia, his chief minister, to apprehend me. That was
accordingly done. Asaph seized my person, and brought me by force
before his master's throne.
"Solomon, the son of David, commanded me to acknowledge his
power, and to submit to his commands: I bravely refused, and told
him, I would rather expose myself to his resentment, than swear
fealty as he required. To punish me, he shut me up in this copper
vessel; and that I might not break my prison, he himself stamps
upon this leaden cover, his seal with the great name of God
engraver upon it. He then gave the vessel to one of the genies
who had submitted, with orders to throw me into the sea, which to
my sorrow were executed.
"During the first hundred years of my imprisonment, I swore that
if any one should deliver me before the expiration of that
period, I would make him rich, even after his death: but that
century ran out, and nobody did me that good office. During the
second, I made an oath, that I would open all the treasures of
the earth to any one that might set me at liberty; but with no
better success. In the third, I promised to make my deliverer a
potent monarch, to be always near him in spirit, and to grant him
every day three requests, of what nature soever they might be:
but this century passed as well as the two former, and I
continued in prison. At last being angry, or rather mad, to find
myself a prisoner so long, I swore, that if afterwards any one
should deliver me, I would kill him without mercy, and grant him
no other favour but to choose the manner of his death; and
therefore, since thou hast delivered me to-day, I give thee that
choice."
This discourse afflicted the fisherman extremely: "I am very
unfortunate," cried he, "to come hither to do such a kindness to
one that is so ungrateful. I beg you to consider your injustice,
and revoke such an unreasonable oath; pardon me, and heaven will
pardon you; if you grant me my life, heaven will protest you from
all attempts against your own." "No, thy death is resolved on,"
said the genie, "only choose in what manner you will die." The
fisherman perceiving the genie to be resolute, was extremely
grieved, not so much for himself, as on account of his three
children; and bewailed the misery they must be reduced to by his
death. He endeavoured still to appease the genie, and said,
"Alas! be pleased to take pity on me, in consideration of the
service I have done you." "I have told thee already," replied the
genie, "it is for that very reason I must kill thee." "That is
strange," said the fisherman, "are you resolved to reward good
with evil? The proverb says, That he who does good to one who
deserves it not is always ill rewarded.' I must confess, I
thought it was false; for certainly there can be nothing more
contrary to reason, or the laws of society. Nevertheless, I find
now by cruel experience that it is but too true." "Do not lose
time," interrupted the genie; "all thy reasonings shall not
divert me from my purpose: make haste, and tell me what kind of
death thou preferest?"
Necessity is the mother of invention. The fisherman bethought
himself of a stratagem. "Since I must die then," said he to the
genie, "I submit to the will of heaven; but before I choose the
manner of my death, I conjure you by the great name which was
engraver upon the seal of the prophet Solomon, the son of David,
to answer me truly the question I am going to ask you."
The genie finding himself obliged to a positive answer by this
adjuration, trembled; and replied to the fisherman, "Ask what
thou wilt, but make haste."
The fisherman then said to him, "I wish to know if you were
actually in this vessel: Dare you swear it by the name of the
great God?" "Yes," replied the genie, "I do swear by that great
name, that I was." "In good faith," answered the fisherman, "I
cannot believe you; the vessel is not capable of holding one of
your size, and how should it be possible that your whole body
should lie in it?" "I swear to thee, notwithstanding," replied
the genie, "that I was there just as you see me here: Is it
possible, that thou cost not believe me after the solemn oath I
have taken?" "Truly not I," said the fisherman; "nor will I
believe you, unless you go into the vessel again."
Upon which the body of the genie dissolved and changed itself
into smoke, extending as before upon the sea shore; and at last,
being collected, it began to re-enter the vessel, which it
continued to do by a slow and equal motion, till no part remained
out; when immediately a voice came forth, which said to the
fisherman, "Well now, incredulous fellow, I am in the vessel, do
not you believe me now?"
The fisherman, instead of answering the genie, took the cover of
lead, and having speedily replaced it on the vessel, "Genie,"
cried he, "now it is your turn to beg my favour, and to choose
which way I shall put you to death; but not so, it is better that
I should throw you into the sea, whence I took you: and then I
will build a house upon the shore, where I will reside and give
notice to all fishermen who come to throw in their nets, to
beware of such a wicked genie as thou art, who hast made an oath
to kill him that shall set thee at liberty."
The genie, enraged at these expressions, struggled to set himself
at liberty; but it was impossible, for the impression of
Solomon's seal prevented him. Perceiving that the fisherman had
got the advantage of him, for he thought fit to dissemble his
anger; "Fishermen," said he, "take heed you do not what you
threaten; for what I spoke to you was only by way of jest." "O
genie!" replied the fisherman, "thou who wast but a moment ago
the greatest of all genies, and now art the least of them, thy
crafty discourse will signify nothing, to the sea thou shalt
return. If thou hast been there already so long as thou hast told
me, thou may'st very well stay there till the day of judgment. I
begged of thee in God's name not to take away my life, and thou
didst reject my prayers; I am obliged to treat thee in the same
manner."
The genie omitted nothing that he thought likely to prevail with
the fisherman: "Open the vessel," said he, "give me my liberty,
and I promise to satisfy thee to thy own content." "Thou art a
traitor," replied the fisherman, "I should deserve to lose my
life, if I were such a fool as to trust thee: thou wilt not fail
to treat me in the same manner as a certain Grecian king treated
the physician Douban. It is a story I have a mind to tell thee,
therefore listen to it."
The Story of the Grecian King and the Physician Douban.
There was in the country of Yunaun or Greece, a king who was
leprous, and his physicians had in vain endeavoured his cure;
when a very able physician, named Douban, arrived at his court.
This physician had learnt the theory of his profession in Greek,
Persian, Turkish, Arabic, Latin, Syriac, and Hebrew books; he was
an experienced natural philosopher, and fully understood the good
and bad qualities of plants and drugs. As soon as he was informed
of the king's distemper, and understood that his physicians had
given him over, he found means to present himself before him. "I
know," said he, after the usual ceremonials, "that your majesty's
physicians have not been able to heal you of the leprosy; but if
you will accept my service, I will engage to cure you without
potions, or external applications."
The king listened to what he said, and answered, "If you be able
to perform what you promise, I will enrich you and your
posterity. Do you assure me that you will cure my leprosy without
potion, or applying any external medicine?" "Yes, Sire," replied
the physician, "I promise myself success, through God's
assistance, and to-morrow, with your majesty's permission, I will
make the trial."
The physician returned to his quarters, made a hollow mace, and
at the handle he put in his drugs; he made also a ball in such a
manner as suited his purpose, with which next morning he
presented himself before the king, and falling down at his feet,
kissed the ground.
The physician Douban rose up, and after a profound reverence,
said to the king, he judged it meet that his majesty should take
horse, and go to the place where he used to play at mall. The
king did so, and when he arrived there, the physician came to him
with the mace, and said, "Exercise yourself with this mace, and
strike the ball until you find your hands and body perspire. When
the medicine I have put up in the handle of the mace is heated
with your hand, it will penetrate your whole body; and as soon as
you perspire, you may leave off the exercise, for then the
medicine will have had its effect. Immediately on your return to
your palace, go into the bath, and cause yourself to be well
washed and rubbed; then retire to bed, and when you rise to-
morrow you will find yourself cured."
The king took the mace, and struck the ball, which was returned
by his officers who played with him; he played so long, that his
hands and his whole body were in a sweat, and then the medicine
shut up in the handle of the mace had its operation, as the
physician had said. Upon this the king left off play, returned to
his palace, entered the bath, and observed very exactly his
physician had prescribed to him.
The next morning when he arose, he perceived with equal wonder
and joy, that his leprosy was cured, and his body as clean as if
it had never been affected. As soon as he was dressed, he came
into the hall of audience, where he ascended his throne, and
shewed himself to his courtiers: who, eager to know the success
of the new medicine, came thither betimes, and when they saw the
king perfectly cured, expressed great joy. The physician Douban
entering the hall, bowed himself before the throne, with his face
to the ground. The king perceiving him, made him sit down by his
side, presented him to the assembly, and gave him all the
commendation he deserved. His majesty did not stop here: but as
he treated all his court that day, made him eat at his table
alone with him.
The Grecian king was not satisfied with having admitted the
physician Douban to his table, but caused him to be clad in a
rich robe, ordered him two thousand pieces of gold, and thinking
that he could never sufficiently acknowledge his obligations to
him, continued every day to load him with new favours. But this
king had a vizier, who was avaricious, envious, and naturally
capable of every kind of mischief. He could not behold without
envy the presents that were given to the physician, whose other
merits had already begun to make him jealous, and he therefore
resolved to lessen him in the king's esteem. To effect this, he
went to the king, and told him in private, that he had some
information of the greatest consequence to communicate. The king
having asked what it was? "Sire," said he, "it is highly
dangerous for a monarch to confide in a man whose fidelity he has
never tried. Though you heap favours upon the physician Douban,
your majesty does not know that he is a traitor, sent by your
enemies to take away your life." "From whom," demanded the king,
"have you the suggestion which you dare pronounce? Consider to
whom you are speaking, and that you are advancing what I shall
not easily believe." "Sire," replied the vizier, "I am well
informed of what I have had the honour to reveal to your majesty;
therefore do not rest in dangerous security: if your majesty be
asleep, be pleased to awake; for I once more repeat, that the
physician Douban left his native country, and came to settle
himself at your court, for the sole purpose of executing the
horrible design which I have intimated."
"No, no, vizier," interrupted the king; "I am certain, that this
physician, whom you suspect to be a villain and a traitor, is one
of the best and most virtuous of men. You know by what medicine,
or rather by what miracle, he cured me of my leprosy: If he had
had a design upon my life, why did he save me then? He needed
only to have left me to my disease; I could not have escaped it,
as life was fast decaying. Forbear then to fill me with unjust
suspicions: instead of listening to you, I tell you, that from
this day forward I will give that great man a pension of a
thousand pieces of gold per month for his life; nay, though I
were to share with him all my riches and dominions, I should
never pay him sufficiently for what he has done. I perceive it to
be his virtue that raises your envy; but do not think I will be
unjustly prejudiced against him. I remember too well what a
vizier said to king Sinbad, his master, to prevent his putting to
death the prince his son."
What the Grecian king said about king Sinbad raised the vizier's
curiosity, who said, "I pray your majesty to pardon me, if I have
the boldness to ask what the vizier of king Sinbad said to his
master to divert him from putting the prince his son to death."
The Grecian king had the condescension to satisfy him: "That
vizier," said he, "after having represented to king Sinbad, that
he ought to beware, lest on the accusation of a mother-in-law he
should commit an action of which he might afterwards repent, told
him this story."
The Story of the Husband and the Parrot.
A certain man had a beautiful wife, whom he loved so dearly, that
he could scarcely allow her to be out of his sight. One day, some
urgent affairs obliging him to go from home, he went to a place
where all sorts of birds were sold, and bought a parrot, which
not only spoke well, but could also give an account of every
thing that was done in its presence. He brought it in a cage to
his house, desired his wife to put it in his chamber, and take
care of it during his absence, and then departed.
On his return, he questioned the parrot concerning what had
passed while he was from home, and the bird told him such things
as gave him occasion to upbraid his wife. She concluded some of
her slaves had betrayed her, but all of them swore they had been
faithful, and agreed that the parrot must have been the tell-
tale.
Upon this, the wife began to devise how she might remove her
husband's jealousy, and at the same time revenge herself on the
parrot. Her husband being gone another journey, she commanded a
slave in the night-time to turn a hand-mill under the parrot's
cage; she ordered another to sprinkle water, in resemblance of
rain, over the cage; and a third to move a looking-glass,
backward and forward against a candle, before the parrot. The
slaves spent a great part of the night in doing what their
mistress desired them, and acquitted themselves with much skill.
Next night the husband returned, and examined the parrot again
about what had passed during his absence. The bird answered,
"Good master, the lightning, thunder, and rain so much disturbed
me all night, that I cannot tell how much I suffered." The
husband, who knew that there had been neither thunder, lightning,
nor rain in the night, fancied that the parrot, not having spoken
truth in this, might also have lied in the other relation; upon
which he took it out of the cage, and threw it with so much force
to the ground that he killed it. Yet afterwards he understood
from his neigbours, that the poor parrot had not deceived him in
what it had stated of his wife's base conduct, made him repent
that he had killed it.
When the Grecian king had finished the story of the parrot, he
added, "And you, vizier, because of the hatred you bear to the
physician Douban, who never did you any injury, you would have me
cut him off; but I will beware lest I should repent as the
husband did after killing his parrot."
The mischievous vizier was too desirous of effecting the ruin of
the physician Douban to stop here. "Sir," said he, "the death of
the parrot was but a trifle, and I believe his master did not
mourn for him long: but why should your fear of wronging an
innocent man, hinder your putting this physician to death? Is it
not sufficient justification that he is accused of a design
against your life? When the business in question is to secure the
life of a king, bare suspicion ought to pass for certainty; and
it is better to sacrifice the innocent than to spare the guilty.
But, Sir, this is not a doubtful case; the physician Douban has
certainly a mind to assassinate you. It is not envy which makes
me his enemy; it is only my zeal, with the concern I have for
preserving your majesty's life, that makes me give you my advice
in a matter of this importance. If the accusation be false, I
deserve to be punished in the same manner as a vizier formerly
was." "What had the vizier done," demands the Grecian king, "to
deserve punishment?" "I will inform your majesty," said the
vizier, "if you will be pleased to hear me."
The Story of the Vizier that was Punished.
There was a king who had a son that loved hunting. He allowed him
to pursue that diversion often; but gave orders to his grand
vizier always to attend him.
One hunting day, the huntsman having roused a deer, the prince,
who thought the vizier followed him, pursued the game so far, and
with so much earnestness, that he separated himself from the
company. Perceiving he had lost his way he stopped, and
endeavoured to return to the vizier; but not knowing the country
he wandered farther.
Whilst he was thus riding about, he met on his way a handsome
lady, who wept bitterly. He stopped his horse, and enquired who
she was, how she came to be alone in that place, and what she
wanted. "I am," replied she, "the daughter of an Indian king. As
I was taking the air on horseback, in the country, I grew sleepy,
and fell from my horse, who is run away, and I know not what is
become of him." The young prince taking compassion on her,
requested her to get up behind him, which she willingly did.
As they were passing by the ruins of a house, the lady expressed
a desire to alight. The prince stopped, and having put her down,
dismounted himself, and went near the building, leading his horse
after him. But you may judge how much he was surprised, when he
heard the pretended lady utter these words: "Be glad, my
children, I bring you a young man for your repast;" and other
voices, which answered immediately, "Where is he, for we are very
hungry?"
The prince heard enough to convince him of his danger. He
perceived that the lady, who called herself the daughter of an
Indian king, was one of those savage demons, called Gholes, who
live in desolated places, and employ a thousand wiles to surprise
passengers, whom they afterwards devour. The prince instantly
remounted his horse, and luckily escaped.
The pretended princess appeared that very moment, and perceiving
she had missed her prey, exclaimed, "Fear nothing, prince: Who
are you? Whom do you seek?" "I have lost my way," replied he,
"and am endeavouring to find it." "If you have lost your way,"
said she, "recommend yourself to God, he will deliver you out of
your perplexity."
After the counterfeit Indian princess had bidden the young prince
recommend himself to God, he could not believe she spoke
sincerely, but thought herself sure of him; and therefore lifting
up his hands to heaven, said, "Almighty Lord, cast shine eyes
upon me, and deliver me from this enemy." After this prayer, the
ghole entered the ruins again, and the prince rode off with all
possible haste. He happily found his way, and arrived safe at the
court of his father, to whom he gave a particular account of the
danger he had been in through the vizier's neglect: upon which
the king, being incensed against that minister, ordered him to be
immediately strangled.
"Sir," continued the Grecian king's vizier, "to return to the
physician Douban, if you do not take care, the confidence you put
in him will be fatal to you; I am very well assured that he is a
spy sent by your enemies to attempt your majesty's life. He has
cured you, you will say: but alas! who can assure you of that? He
has perhaps cured you only in appearance, and not radically; who
knows but the medicine he has given you, may in time have
pernicious effects?"
The Grecian king was not able to discover the wicked design of
his vizier, nor had he firmness enough to persist in his first
opinion. This discourse staggered him: "Vizier," said he, "thou
art in the right; he may be come on purpose to take away my life,
which he may easily do by the smell of his drugs."
When the vizier found the king in such a temper as he wished,
"Sir," said he, "the surest and speediest method you can take to
secure your life, is to send immediately for the physician
Douban, and order his head to be struck off." "In truth," said
the king, "I believe that is the way we must take to frustrate
his design." When he had spoken thus, he called for one of his
officers, and ordered him to go for the physician; who, knowing
nothing of the king's purpose, came to the palace in haste.
"Knowest thou," said the king, when he saw him, "why I sent for
thee?" "No, Sir," answered he; "I wait till your majesty be
pleased to inform me." "I sent for thee," replied the king, "to
rid myself of thee, by taking away thy life."
No man can express the surprise of the physician, when he heard
the sentence of death pronounced against him. "Sir," said he,
"why would your majesty take my life? What crime have I
committed?" "I am informed," replied the king, "that you came to
my court only to attempt my life; but to prevent you, I will be
sure of yours. Give the blow," said he to the executioner, who
was present, "and deliver me from a perfidious wretch, who came
hither on purpose to assassinate me."
When the physician heard this cruel order, he readily judged that
the honours and presents he had received from the king had
procured him enemies, and that the weak prince was imposed on. He
repented that he had cured him of his leprosy; but it was now too
late. "Is it thus," asked the physician, "that you reward me for
curing you?" The king would not hearken to him, but a second time
ordered the executioner to strike the fatal blow. The physician
then had recourse to his prayers; "Alas, Sir," cried he, "prolong
my days, and God will prolong yours; do not put me to death, lest
God treat you in the same manner."
The fisherman broke off his discourse here, to apply it to the
genie. "Well, genie," said he, "you see that what passed betwixt
the Grecian king and his physician Douban is acted just now by
us."
The Grecian king, continued he, instead of having regard to the
prayers of the physician, who begged him to spare his life,
cruelly replied, "No, no; I must of necessity cut you off,
otherwise you may assassinate with as much art as you cured me."
The physician, without bewailing himself for being so ill
rewarded by the king, prepared for death. The executioner tied
his hands, and was going to draw his cimeter.
The courtiers who were present, being moved with compassion,
begged the king to pardon him, assuring his majesty that he was
not guilty of the crime laid to his charge, and that they would
answer for his innocence: but the king was inflexible.
The physician being on his knees, his eyes tied up, and ready to
receive the fatal blow, addressed himself once more to the king:
"Sir," said he, "since your majesty will not revoke the sentence
of death, I beg, at least, that you would give me leave to return
to my house, to give orders about my burial, to bid farewell to
my family, to give alms, and to bequeath my books to those who
are capable of making good use of them. I have one particularly I
would present to your majesty; it is a very precious book, and
worthy of being laid up carefully in your treasury." "What is
it," demanded the king, "that makes it so valuable?" "Sir,"
replied the physician, "it possesses many singular and curious
properties; of which the chief is, that if your majesty will give
yourself the trouble to open it at the sixth leaf, and read the
third line of the left page, my head, after being cut off, will
answer all the questions you ask it." The king being curious,
deferred his death till next day, and sent him home under a
strong guard.
The physician, during that time, put his affairs in order; and
the report being spread, that an unheard of prodigy was to happen
after his death, the viziers, emirs, officers of the guard, and,
in a word, the whole court, repaired next day to the hall of
audience, that they might be witnesses of it.
The physician Douban was brought in, and advancing to the foot of
the throne, with a book in his hand, he called for a basin, and
laid upon it the cover in which the book was wrapped; then
presenting the book to the king, "Take this," said he, "and after
my head is cut off, order that it be put into the basin upon that
cover; as soon as it is placed there, the blood will stop; then
open the book, and my head will answer your questions. But permit
me once more to implore your majesty's clemency; for God's sake
grant my request, I protest to you that I am innocent." "Your
prayers," answered the king, "are in vain; and were it for
nothing but to hear your head speak after your death, it is my
will you should die." As he said this, he took the book out of
the physician's hand, and ordered the executioner to do his duty.
The head was so dexterously cut off that it fell into the basin,
and was no sooner laid upon the cover of the book than the blood
stopped; then to the great surprise of the king, and all the
spectators, its eyes, and said, "Sir, will your majesty be
pleased to open the book?" The king proceeded to do so; but
finding that the leaves adhered to each other, that he might turn
them with more ease, he put his finger to his mouth, and wetted
it with spittle. He did thus till he came to the sixth leaf, and
finding no writing on the place where he was desired to look for
it, "Physician," said he, "there is nothing written." "Turn over
some more leaves," replied the head. The king went on, putting
always his finger to his mouth, until the poison with which each
leaf was imbued, coming to have its effect, the prince found
himself suddenly taken with an extraordinary fit, his eye-sight
failed, and he fell down at the foot of the throne in violent
convulsions.
When the physician Douban, or rather his head, saw that the
poison had taken effect, and that the king had but a few moments
to live; "Tyrant," it cried, "now you see how princes are
treated, who, abusing their authority, cut off innocent men: God
punishes soon or late their injustice and cruelty." Scarcely had
the head spoken these words, when the king fell down dead, and
the head itself lost what life it had.
As soon as the fisherman had concluded the history of the Greek
king and his physician Douban, he made the application to the
genie, whom he still kept shut up in the vessel. "If the Grecian
king," said he, "had suffered the physician to live, God would
have continued his life also; but he rejected his most humble
prayers, and the case is the same with thee, O genie! Could I
have prevailed with thee to grant me the favour I supplicated, I
should now take pity on thee; but since, notwithstanding the
extreme obligation thou west under to me, for having set thee at
liberty, thou didst persist in thy design to kill me, I am
obliged, in my turn, to be equally hard-hearted to thee."
"My good friend fisherman," replied the genie, "I conjure thee
once more, not to be guilty of such cruelty; consider, that it is
not good to avenge one's self, and that on the other hand, it is
commendable to do good for evil; do not treat me as Imama
formerly treated Ateca." "And what did Imama to Ateca?" enquired
the fisherman. "Ho!" says the genie, "if you have a mind to be
informed, open the vessel: do you think that I can be in an
humour to relate stories in so strait a prison? I will tell you
as many as you please, when you have let me out." "No," said the
fisherman, "I will not let thee out; it is in vain to talk of it;
I am just going to throw thee into the bottom of the sea." "Hear
me one word more," cried the genie; "I promise to do thee no
hurt; nay, far from that, I will shew thee a way to become
exceedingly rich."
The hope of delivering himself from poverty, prevailed with the
fisherman. "I could listen to thee," said he, "were there any
credit to be given to thy word; swear to me by the great name of
God, that you will faithfully perform what you promise, and I
will open the vessel; I do not believe you will dare to break
such an oath."
The genie swore to him, upon which the fisherman immediately took
off the covering of the vessel. At that instant the smoke
ascended, and the genie having resumed his form, the first thing
he did was to kick the vessel into the sea. This action alarmed
the fisherman. "Genie," said he, "will not you keep the oath you
just now made? And must I say to you, as the physician Douban
said to the Grecian king, suffer me to live, and God will prolong
your days."
The genie laughed at the fisherman's fear, and answered, "No,
fisherman, be not afraid, I only did it to divert myself, and to
see if thou wouldst be alarmed at it: but to convince thee that I
am in earnest, take thy nets and follow me." As he spoke these
words, he walked before the fisherman, who having taken up his
nets, followed him, but with some distrust. They passed by the
town, and came to the top of a mountain, from whence they
descended into a vast plain, which brought them to a lake, that
lay betwixt four hills.
When they reached the side of the lake, the genie said to the
fisherman, "Cast in thy nets, and catch fish; "the fisherman did
not doubt of taking some, because he saw a great number in the
water; but he was extremely surprised, when he found they were of
four colours, that is to say, white, red, blue, and yellow. He
threw in his nets, and brought out one of each colour. Having
never seen the like before, he could not but admire them, and
judging that he might get a considerable sum for them, he was
very joyful. "Carry those fish," said the genie to him, "and
present them to thy sultan; he will give thee more money for
them. Thou mayest come every day to fish in this lake; but I give
thee warning not to throw in thy nets above once a day, otherwise
thou wilt repent." Having spoken thus, he struck his foot upon
the ground, which opened, and after it had swallowed him up
closed again.
The fisherman being resolved to follow the genie's advice,
forbore casting in his nets a second time; and returned to the
town very well satisfied; and making a thousand reflections upon
his adventure. He went immediately to the sultan's palace, to
offer his fish.
The sultan was much surprised, when he saw the four fish which
the fisherman presented. He took them up one after another, and
viewed them with attention; and after having admired them a long
time, "Take those fish," said he to his vizier, "and carry them
to the cook, whom the emperor of the Greeks has sent me. I cannot
imagine but that they must be as good as they are beautiful."
The vizier, carried them as he was directed, and delivering them
to the cook, said, "Here are four fish just brought to the
sultan; he orders you to dress them:" he then returned to the
sultan his master, who ordered him to give the fisherman four
hundred pieces of gold of the coin of that country, which he did
accordingly.
The fisherman, who had never seen so much money, could scarcely
believe his good fortune, but thought the whole must be a dream,
until he found it otherwise, by being able to provide necessaries
for his family with the produce of his fish.
As soon as the sultan's cook had gutted the fish, she put them
upon the fire in a frying-pan, with oil, and when she thought
them fried enough on one side, she turned them upon the other;
but, O monstrous prodigy! scarcely were they turned, when the
wall of the kitchen divided, and a young lady of wonderful beauty
entered from the opening. She was clad in flowered satin, after
the Egyptian manner, with pendants in her ears, a necklace of
large pearls, and bracelets of gold set with rubies, with a rod
in her hand. She moved towards the frying-pan, to the great
amazement of the cook, who continued fixed by the sight, and
striking one of the fish with the end of the rod, said, "Fish,
fish, are you in duty?" The fish having answered nothing, she
repeated these words, and then the four fish lifted up their
heads, and replied, "Yes, yes: if you reckon, we reckon; if you
pay your debts, we pay ours; if you fly, we overcome, and are
content." As soon as they had finished these words, the lady
overturned the frying-pan, and returned into the open part of the
wall, which closed immediately, and became as it was before.
The cook was greatly frightened at what had happened, and coming
a little to herself, went to take up the fish that had fallen on
the hearth, but found them blacker than coal, and not fit to be
carried to the sultan. This grievously troubled her, and she fell
to weeping most bitterly. "Alas!" said she, "what will become of
me? If I tell the sultan what I have seen, I am sure he will not
believe me, but will be enraged against me."
While she was thus bewailing herself, the grand vizier entered,
and asked her if the fish were ready? She told him all that had
occurred, which we may easily imagine astonished him; but without
speaking a word of it to the sultan, he invented an excuse that
satisfied him, and sending immediately for the fisherman, bid him
bring four more such fish, for a misfortune had befallen the
others, so that they were not fit to be carried to the sultan.
The fisherman, without saying any thing of what the genie had
told him, in order to excuse himself from bringing them that day,
told the vizier, he had a great way to go for them, but would
certainly bring them on the morrow.
Accordingly the fisherman went away by night, and coming to the
lake, threw in his nets betimes next morning, took four fish like
the former, and brought them to the vizier, at the hour
appointed. The minister took them himself, carried them to the
kitchen, and shutting himself up with the cook, she gutted them,
and put them on the fire, as she had done the four others the day
before. When they were fried on one side, and she had turned them
upon the other, the kitchen wall again opened, and the same lady
came in with the rod in her hand, struck one of the fish, spoke
to it as before, and all four gave her the same answer.
After the four fish had answered the young lady, she overturned
the frying-pan with her rod, and retired into the wall. The grand
vizier, being witness to what had passed: "This is too wonderful
and extraordinary," said he, "to be concealed from the sultan; I
will inform him of this prodigy."
The sultan, being much surprised, sent immediately for the
fisherman, and said to him, "Friend, cannot you bring me four
more such fish?" The fisherman replied, "If your majesty will be
pleased to allow me three days, I will do it." Having obtained
his time, he went to the lake immediately, and at the first
throwing in of his net, he caught four fish, and brought them
directly to the sultan; who was so much the more rejoiced, as he
did not expect them so soon, and ordered him four hundred pieces
of gold. As soon as the sultan had the fish, he ordered them to
be carried into his closet, with all that was necessary for
frying them; and having shut himself up with the vizier, the
minister gutted them, put them into the pan, and when they were
fried on one side, turned them upon the other; then the wall of
the closet opened, but instead of the young lady, there came out
a black, in the habit of a slave, and of a gigantic stature, with
a great green staff in his hand. He advanced towards the pan, and
touching one of the fish with his staff, said with a terrible
voice, "Fish, are you in your duty?" At these words, the fish
raised up their heads, and answered, "Yes, yes; we are: if you
reckon, we reckon; if you pay your debts, we pay ours; if you
fly, we overcome, and are content."
The fish had no sooner finished these words, than the black threw
the pan into the middle of the closet, and reduced the fish to a
coal. Having done this, he retired fiercely, and entering again
into the aperture, it closed, and the wall appeared just as it
did before.
"After what I have seen," said the sultan to the vizier, "it will
not be possible for me to be easy: these fish, without doubt,
signify something extraordinary." He sent for the fisherman, and
when he came, said to him, "Fisherman, the fish you have brought
us, make me very uneasy; where did you catch them?" "Sir,"
answered he, "I fished for them in a lake situated betwixt four
hills, beyond the mountain that we see from hence." "Knowst thou
not that lake?" said the sultan to the vizier. "No," replied the
vizier. "I never so much as heard of it, although I have for
sixty years hunted beyond that mountain." The sultan asked the
fisherman, how far the lake might be from the palace? The
fisherman answered, it was not above three hours journey; upon
this assurance, the sultan commanded all his court to take horse,
and the fisherman served them for a guide. They all ascended the
mountain, and at the foot of it they saw, to their great
surprise, a vast plain, that nobody had observed till then, and
at last they came to the lake, which they found to be situated
betwixt four hills as the fisherman had described. The water was
so transparent, that they observed all the fish to be like those
which the fisherman had brought to the palace.
The sultan stood upon the bank of the lake, and after beholding
the fish with admiration, demanded of his courtiers, if it were
possible they had never seen this lake, which was within so short
a distance of the town. They all answered, that they had never so
much as heard of it.
"Since you all agree that you never heard of it, and as I am no
less astonished than you are, at this novelty, I am resolved not
to return to my palace till I learn how this lake came here, and
why all the fish in it are of four colours." Having spoken thus,
he ordered his court to encamp; and immediately his pavilion and
the tents of his household were planted upon the banks of the
lake.
When night came, the sultan retired under his pavilion, and spoke
to the grand vizier. thus: "Vizier, my mind is uneasy: this lake
transported hither; the black that appeared to us in my closet,
and the fish that we heard speak; all these things so much excite
my curiosity, that I cannot resist my impatient desire to have it
satisfied. To this end, I am resolved to withdraw alone from the
camp, and I order you to keep my absence secret: stay in my
pavilion, and to-morrow morning, when the emirs and courtiers
come to attend my levee, send them away, and tell them, that I am
somewhat indisposed, and wish to be alone; and the following days
tell them the same thing, till I return."
The grand vizier. endeavoured to divert the sultan from this
design; he represented to him the danger to which he might be
exposed, and that all his labour might perhaps be in vain: but it
was to no purpose; the sultan was resolved. He put on a suit fit
for walking, and took his cimeter; and as soon as he found that
all was quiet in the camp, went out alone, and passed over one of
the hills without much difficulty; he found the descent still
more easy, and when he came to the plain, walked on till the sun
arose, and then he saw before him, at a considerable distance, a
vast building. He rejoiced at the sight, in hopes of receiving
there the information he sought. When he drew near, he found it
was a magnificent palace, or rather a strong castle, of black
polished marble, and covered with fine steel, as smooth as glass.
Being highly pleased that he had so speedily met with something
worthy his curiosity, he stopped before the front of the castle,
and considered it with attention.
He then advanced towards the gate, which had two leaves, one of
them open; though he might immediately have entered, yet he
thought it best to knock. This he did at first softly, and waited
for some time; but seeing no one, and supposing he had not been
heard, he knocked harder the second time, and after that he
knocked again and again, but no one yet appearing, he was
exceedingly surprised; for he could not think that a castle in
such repair was without inhabitants. "If there be no one in it,"
said he to himself, "I have nothing to fear; and if it be
inhabited, I have wherewith to defend myself."
At last he entered, and when he came within the porch, he cried,
"Is there no one here to receive a stranger, who comes in for
some refreshment as he passes by?" He repeated the same words two
or three times; but though he spoke very loud, he was not
answered. The silence increased his astonishment: he came into a
spacious court, and looked on every side for inhabitants, but
discovered none.
The sultan entered the grand halls, which were hung with silk
tapestry, the alcoves and sofas were covered with stuffs of
Mecca, and the porches with the richest stuffs of India, mixed
with gold and silver. He came afterwards into a superb saloon, in
the middle of which was a fountain, with a lion of massy gold at
each angle: water issued from the mouths of the four lions; and
as it fell, formed diamonds and pearls, resembling a jet d'eau,
which springing from the middle of the fountain, rose nearly to
the top of a cupola painted in Arabesque.
The castle, on three sides, was encompassed by a garden, with
parterres of flowers, shrubbery, and whatever could concur to
embellish it; and to complete the beauty of the place, an
infinite number of birds filled the air with their harmonious
notes, and always remained there, nets being spread over the
garden, and fastened to the palace to confine them. The sultan
walked from apartment to apartment, where he found every thing
rich and magnificent. Being tired with walking, he sat down in a
verandah or arcade closet, which had a view over the garden,
reflecting what he had already seen, and then beheld: when
suddenly he heard the voice of one complaining, in lamentable
tones. He listened with attention, and heard distinctly these
words: "O fortune! thou who wouldst not suffer me longer to enjoy
a happy lot, forbear to persecute me, and by a speedy death put
an end to my sorrows. Alas! is it possible that I am still alive,
after so many torments as I have suffered!"
The sultan rose up, advanced toward the place whence he heard the
voice; and coming to the door of a great hall, opened it, and saw
a handsome young man, richly habited, seated upon a throne raised
a little above the ground. Melancholy was painted on his
countenance. The sultan drew near, and saluted him; the young man
returned his salutation by an inclination of his head, not being
able to rise, at the same time saying, "My lord, I should rise to
receive you; but am hindered by sad necessity, and therefore hope
you will not be offended." "My lord," replied the sultan, "I am
much obliged to you for having so good an opinion of me: as to
the reason of your not rising, whatever your apology be, I
heartily accept it. Being drawn hither by your complaints, and
afflicted by your grief, I come to offer you my help; would to
God that it lay in my power to ease you of your trouble! I would
do my utmost to effect it. I flatter myself that you will relate
to me the history of your misfortunes; but inform me first of the
meaning of the lake near the palace, where the fish are of four
colours? whose this castle is? how you came to be here? and why
you are alone?"
Instead of answering these questions, the young man began to weep
bitterly. "How inconstant is
fortune!" cried he; "she takes pleasure to pull down those she
had raised. Where are they who enjoy quietly the happiness which
they hold of her, and whose day is always clear and serene?"
The sultan, moved with compassion to see him in such a condition,
prayed him to relate the cause of his excessive grief. "Alas! my
lord," replied the young man, "how is it possible but I should
grieve, and my eyes be inexhaustible fountains of tears?" At
these words, lifting up his robe, he shewed the sultan that he
was a man only from the head to the girdle, and that the other
half of his body was black marble.
The sultan was much surprised, when he saw the deplorable
condition of the young man. "That which you shew me," said he,
"while it fills me with horror, excites my curiosity, so that I
am impatient to hear your history, which, no doubt, must be
extraordinary, and I am persuaded that the lake and the fish make
some part of it; therefore I conjure you to relate it. You will
find some comfort in so doing, since it is certain, that the
unfortunate find relief in making known their distress." "I will
not refuse your request," replied the young man, "though I cannot
comply without renewing my grief. But I give you notice before
hand, to prepare your ears, your mind, and even your eyes, for
things which surpass all that the imagination can conceive."
The History of the Young King of the Black Isles.
You must know that my father, named Mahmoud, was king of this
country. This is the kingdom of the Black Isles, which takes its
name from the four small neighbouring mountains; for these
mountains were formerly isles: the capital where the king my
father resided was situated on the spot now occupied by the lake
you have seen. The sequel of my history will inform you of those
changes.
The king my father died when he was seventy years of age; I had
no sooner succeeded him, than I married, and the lady I chose to
share the royal dignity with me, was my cousin. I had so much
reason to be satisfied with her affection, and, on my part, loved
her with so much tenderness, that nothing could surpass the
harmony and pleasure of our union. This lasted five years, at the
end of which time, I perceived the queen, my cousin, ceased to
delight in my attentions.
One day, after dinner, while she was at the bath, I found myself
inclined to repose and lay down upon a sofa. Two of her ladies,
who were then in my chamber, came and sat down, one at my head,
and the other at my feet, with fans in their hands to moderate
the heat, and to prevent the flies from disturbing me. They
thought I was asleep, and spoke in whispers; but as I only closed
my eyes, I heard all their conversation.
One of them said to the other, "Is not the queen wrong, not to
love so amiable a prince?" "Certainly," replied the other; "I do
not understand the reason, neither can I conceive why she goes
out every night, and leaves him alone!" "Is it possible that he
does not perceive it?" "Alas!" said the first, "how should he?
she mixes every evening in his liquor, the juice of a certain
herb, which makes him sleep so sound all night, that she has time
to go where she pleases, and as day begins to appear, she comes
and lies down by him again, and wakes him by the smell of
something she puts under his nostrils."
You may guess, my lord, how much I was surprised at this
conversation, and with what sentiments it inspired me; yet,
whatever emotion it excited, I had sufficient self-command to
dissemble, and feigned to awake without having heard a word.
The queen returned from the bath, we supped together and she
presented me with a cup full of such water as I was accustomed to
drink; but instead of putting it to my mouth, I went to a window
that was open, and threw out the water so quickly, that she did
not perceive it, and returned.
We went to bed together, and soon after, believing that I was
asleep, she got up with so little precaution, that she said loud
enough for me to hear her distinctly, "Sleep on, and may you
never wake again!" She dressed herself, and went out of the
chamber.
As soon as the queen my wife was gone, I dressed myself in haste,
took my cimeter, and followed her so quickly, that I soon heard
the sound of her feet before me, and then walked softly after
her, for fear of being heard. She passed through several gates,
which opened upon her pronouncing some magical words, and the
last she opened was that of the garden, which she entered. I
stopt at this gate, that she might not perceive me, as she passed
along a parterre; then looking after her as far as the darkness
of the night permitted, I saw her enter a little wood, whose
walks were guarded by thick palisadoes. I went thither by another
way, and concealing myself behind the palisadoes of a long walk,
I saw her walking there with a man.
I did not fail to lend the most attentive ear to their discourse,
and heard her address herself thus to her gallant: "I do not
deserve to be reproached by you for want of diligence. You well
know the reason; but if all the proofs of affection I have
already given you be not sufficient to convince you of my
sincerity, I am ready to give you others more decisive: you need
but command me, you know my power; I will, if you desire it,
before sun-rise convert this great city, and this superb palace,
into frightful ruins, inhabited only by wolves, owls, and revens.
If you would have me transport all the stones of those walls so
solidly built, beyond mount Caucasus, or the bounds of the
habitable world, speak but the word, and all shall be changed."
As the queen finished these words she and her lover came to the
end of the walk, turned to enter another, and passed before me. I
had already drawn my cimeter, and her lover being next me, I
struck him on the neck, and brought him to the ground. I
concluded I had killed him, and therefore retired speedily
without making myself known to the queen, whom I chose to spare,
because she was my kinswoman.
The wound I had given her lover was mortal; but by her
enchantments she preserved him in an existence in which he could
not be said to be either dead or alive. As I crossed the garden
to return to the palace, I heard the queen loudly lamenting, and
judging by her cries how much she was grieved, I was pleased that
I had spared her life.
As soon as I had reached my apartment, I went to bed, and being
satisfied with having punished the villain who had injured me,
fell asleep; and when I awoke next morning, found the queen
lying. I cannot tell you whether she slept or not; but I arose,
went to my closet, and dressed myself. I afterwards held my
council. At my return, the queen, clad in mourning, her hair
dishevelled, and part of it torn off, presented herself before
me, and said; "I come to beg your majesty not to be surprised to
see me in this condition. My heavy affliction is occasioned by
intelligence of three distressing events which I have just
received." "Alas! what are they, madam?" said I. "The death of
the queen my dear mother," she replied, "that of the king my
father killed in battle, and of one of my brothers, who has
fallen down a precipice."
I was not displeased that she used this pretext to conceal the
true cause of her grief, and I concluded she had not suspected me
of being the author of her lover's death. "Madam," said I, "so
far from blaming, I assure you I heartily commiserate your
sorrow. I should feel surprise if you were insensible to such
heavy calamities: weep on; your tears are so many proofs of your
tenderness; but I hope that time and reflection will moderate
your grief."
She retired into her apartment, where, giving herself wholly up
to sorrow, she spent a whole year in mourning and lamentation. At
the end of that period, she begged permission to erect a burying
place for herself, within the bounds of the palace, where she
would continue, she told me, to the end of her days: I consented,
and she built a stately edifice, crowned by a cupola, which may
be seen from hence, and called it the Palace of Tears. When it
was finished, she caused her lover to be conveyed thither, from
the place to which she had caused him to be carried the night I
wounded him: she had hitherto prevented his dying, by potions
which she had administered to him; and she continued to convey
them to him herself every day after he came to the Palace of
Tears.
Yet, with all her enchantments, she could not cure him; he was
not only unable to walk or support himself, but had also lost the
use of his speech, and exhibited no sign of life except in his
looks. Though the queen had no other consolation but to see him,
and to say to him all that her senseless passion could inspire,
yet every day she made him two long visits. I was well apprised
of this, but pretended ignorance.
One day my curiosity induced me to go to the Palace of Tears, to
observe how the princess employed herself, and from a place where
she could not see me, I heard her thus address her lover: "I am
afflicted to the highest degree to behold you in this condition;
I am as sensible as yourself of the tormenting pain you endure;
but, dear soul, I am continually speaking to you, and you do not
answer me: how long will you remain silent? Speak only one word:
alas! the sweetest moments of my life are these I spend here in
partaking of your grief. I cannot live at a distance from you,
and would prefer the pleasure of having you always before me, to
the empire of the universe."
At these words, which were several times interrupted by her sighs
and sobs, I lost all patience: and discovering myself, came up to
her, and said, "Madam, you have wept enough, it is time to give
over this sorrow, which dishonours both; you have too much
forgotten what you owe to me and to yourself." "Sire," said she,
"if you have any kindness or compassion for me left, I beseech
you to put no restraint upon me; allow me to indulge my grief,
which it is impossible for time to assuage."
When I perceived that my remonstrance, instead of restoring her
to a sense of duty, served only to increase her anguish, I gave
over and retired. She continued every day to visit her lover, and
for two whole years abandoned herself to grief and despair.
I went a second time to the Palace of Tears, while she was there.
I concealed myself again, and heard her thus address her lover:
"It is now three years since you spoke one word to me; you answer
not the proofs I give you of my love by my sighs and
lamentations. Is it from insensibility, or contempt? O tomb! hast
thou destroyed that excess of affection which he bare me? Hast
thou closed those eyes that evinced so much love, and were all my
delight? No, no, this I cannot think. Tell me rather, by what
miracle thou becamest the depositary of the rarest treasure the
world ever contained."
I must confess, my lord, I was enraged at these expressions; for,
in truth, this beloved, this adored mortal, was by no means what
you would imagine him to have been. He was a black Indian, one of
the original natives of this country. I was so enraged at the
language addressed to him, that I discovered myself, and
apostrophising the tomb in my turn; I cried, "O tomb! why dost
not thou swallow up that monster so revolting to human nature, or
rather why dost not thou swallow up both the lover and his
mistress?"
I had scarcely uttered these words, when the queen, who sat by
the black, rose up like a fury. "Miscreant!" said she "thou art
the cause of my grief; do not think I am ignorant of this, I have
dissembled too long. It was thy barbarous hand that brought the
objets of my fondness into this lamentable condition; and thou
hast the cruelty to come and insult a despairing lover." "Yes,"
said I, in a rage, "it was I that chastised that monster,
according to his desert; I ought to have treated thee in the same
manner; I now repent that I did not; thou hast too long abused my
goodness." As I spoke these words, I drew out my cimeter, and
lifted up my hand to punish her; but regarding me stedfastly, she
said with a jeering smile, "Moderate thy anger." At the same
time, she pronounced words I did not understand; and afterwards
added, "By virtue of my enchantments, I command thee to become
half marble and half man." Immediately, my lord, I became what
you see, a dead man among the living, and a living man among the
dead.
After the cruel sorceress, unworthy of the name of queen, had
metamorphosed me thus, and brought me into this hall, by another
enchantment she destroyed my capital, which was very flourishing
and populous; she annihilated the houses, the public places and
markets, and reduced the site of the whole to the lake and desert
plain you have seen; the fishes of four colours in the lake are
the four kinds of inhabitants of different religions, which the
city contained. The white are the Moosulmauns; the red, the
Persians, who worship fire; the blue, the Christians and the
yellow, the Jews. The four little hills were the four islands
that gave name to this kingdom. I learned all this from the
enchantress, who, to add to my affliction, related to me these
effects of her rage. But this is not all; her revenge not being
satisfied with the destruction of my dominions, and the
metamorphosis of my person, she comes every day, and gives me
over my naked shoulders a hundred lashes with a whip until I am
covered with blood. When she has finished this part of my
punishment, she throws over me a coarse stuff of goat's hair, and
over that this robe of brocade, not to honour, but to mock me.
When he came to this part of the narrative, the young king could
not restrain his tears; and the sultan was himself so affected by
the relation, that he could not find utterance for any words of
consolation. Shortly after, the young king, lifting up his eyes
to heaven, exclaimed, "Mighty creator of all things, I submit
myself to thy judgments, and to the decrees of thy providence: I
endure my calamities with patience, since it is thy will things
should be as they are; but I hope thy infinite goodness will
ultimately reward me."
The sultan, greatly moved by the recital of this affecting story,
and anxious to avenge the sufferings of the unfortunate prince,
said to him, "Inform me whither this perfidious sorceress
retires, and where may be found her vile paramour, who is
entombed before his death." "My lord," replied the prince, "her
lover, as I have already told you, is lodged in the Palace of
Tears, in a superb tomb constructed in the form of a dome: this
palace joins the castle on the side in which the gate is placed.
As to the queen, I cannot tell you precisely whither she retires,
but every day at sun-rise she goes to visit her paramour, after
having executed her bloody vengeance upon me; and you see I am
not in a condition to defend myself. She carries to him the
potion with which she had hitherto prevented his dying, and
always complains of his never having spoken to her since he was
wounded."
"Prince," said the sultan, "your condition can never be
sufficiently deplored: no one can be more sensibly affected by
your misfortunes than I am. Never did any thing so extraordinary
befall any man, and those who write your history will have the
advantage of relating what surpasses all that has hitherto been
recorded. One thing only is wanting; the revenge to which you are
entitled, and I will omit nothing in my power to effect it."
In his subsequent conversation with the young prince, the sultan
told him who he was, and for what purpose he had entered the
castle; and afterwards informed him of a mode of revenge which he
had devised. They agreed upon the measures they were to take for
accomplishing their design, but deferred the execution of it till
the following day. In the mean time, the night being far spent,
the sultan took some rest; but the young prince passed the night
as usual, without sleep, having never slept since he was
enchanted, still indulging some hopes of being speedily delivered
from his misery.
Next morning the sultan arose with the dawn, and prepared to
execute his design, hiding his upper garment, which might
encumber him; he then proceeded to the Palace of Tears. He found
it lighted up with an infinite number of flambeaux of white wax,
and perfumed by a delicious scent issuing from several censers of
fine gold of admirable workmanship. As soon as he perceived the
bed where the black lay, he drew his cimeter, and without
resistance deprived him of his wretched life, dragged his corpse
into the court of the castle, and threw it into a well. After
this, he went and lay down in the black's bed, placed his cimeter
under the covering, and waited to complete his design.
The queen arrived shortly after. She first went into the chamber
of her husband, the king of the Black Islands, stripped him, and
with unexampled barbarity gave him a hundred stripes. The
unfortunate prince filled the palace with his lamentations, and
conjured her in the most affecting tone to take pity on him; but
the cruel wretch ceased not till she had given the usual number
of blows. "You had no compassion on my lover," said she, "and you
are to expect none from me."
After the enchantress had given the king, her husband, a hundred
blows with the whip, she put on again his covering of goat's
hair, and his brocade gown over all; she went afterwards to the
Palace of Tears, and as she entered renewed her tears and
lamentations: then approaching the bed, where she thought her
paramour lay, "What cruelty," cried she, "was it to disturb the
satisfaction so tender and passionate a lover as I am? O cruel
prince, who reproachest me that I am inhuman, when I make thee
feel the effects of my resentment! Does not thy barbarity surpass
my vengeance? Traitor! in attempting the life of the object which
I adore, hast thou not robbed me of mine? Alas!" said she,
addressing herself to the sultan, conceiving him to be the black
"My sun, my life, will you always be silent! Are you resolved to
let me die, without affording me the comfort of hearing again
from your own lips that you love me? My soul, speak one word to
me at least, I conjure you."
The sultan, as if he had awaked out of a deep sleep, and
counterfeiting the pronunciation of the blacks, answered the
queen with a grave tone, "There is no strength or power but in
God alone, who is almighty." At these words the enchantress, who
did not expect them, uttered a loud exclamation of joy. "My dear
lord," cried she, "do not I deceive myself; is it certain that I
hear you, and that you speak to me?" "Unhappy woman," said the
sultan, "art thou worthy that I should answer thee?" "Alas!"
replied the queen, "why do you reproach me thus?" "The cries,"
returned the sultan, "the groans and tears of thy husband, whom
thou treatest every day with so much indignity and barbarity,
prevent my sleeping night or day. Hadst thou disenchanted him, I
should long since have been cured, and have recovered the use of
my speech. This is the cause of my silence, of which you
complain." "Well," said the enchantress, "to pacify you, I am
ready to execute your commands; would you have me restore him?"
"Yes," replied the sultan; "make haste to set him at liberty,
that I be no longer disturbed by his lamentations."
The enchantress went immediately out of the Palace of Tears; she
took a cup of water, and pronounced some words over it, which
caused it to boil, as if it had been on the fire. She afterwards
proceeded to the young king her husband, and threw the water upon
him, saying, "If the creator of all things did form thee as thou
art at present; or if he be angry with thee, do not change; but
if thou art in that condition merely by virtue of my
enchantments, resume thy natural shape, and become what thou west
before." She had scarcely spoken these words, when the prince,
finding himself restored to his former condition, rose up and
returned thanks to God. The enchantress then said to him, "Get
thee from this castle, and never return on pain of death." The
young king, yielding to necessity, went away from the
enchantress, without replying a word; and retired to a remote
place, where he patiently awaited the event of the design which
the sultan had so happily begun. Meanwhile, the enchantress
returned to the Palace of Tears, and supposing that she still
spoke to the black, said, "Dear love, I have done what you
required; nothing now prevents your rising and giving me the
satisfaction of which I have so long been deprived."
The sultan, still counterfeiting the pronunciation of the blacks,
said, "What you have now done is by no means sufficient for my
cure; you have only removed a part of the evil; you must cut it
up by the root." "My lovely black," resumed the queen, "what do
you mean by the root?" "Wretched woman," replied the sultan,
"understand you not that I allude to the town, and its
inhabitants, and the four islands, destroyed by thy enchantments?
The fish every night at midnight raise their heads out of the
lake, and cry for vengeance against thee and me. This is the true
cause of the delay of my cure. Go speedily, restore things to
their former state, and at thy return I will give thee my hand,
and thou shalt help me to arise."
The enchantress, inspired with hope from these words, cried out
in a transport of joy, "My heart, my soul, you shall soon be
restored to your health, for I will immediately do as you command
me." Accordingly she went that instant, and when she came to the
brink of the lake, she took a little water in her hand, and
sprinkling it, had no sooner pronounced some words over the fish
and the lake, than the city was immediately restored. The fish
became men, women, and children; Mahummedans, Christians,
Persians, or Jews; freemen or slaves, as they were before: every
one having recovered his natural form. The houses and shops were
immediately filled with their inhabitants, who found all things
as they were before the enchantment. The sultan's numerous
retinue, who found themselves encamped in the largest square,
were astonished to see themselves in an instant in the middle of
a large, handsome, well-peopled city.
To return to the enchantress: As soon as she had effected this
wonderful change, she returned with all expedition to the Palace
of Tears, that she might receive her reward. "My dear lord,"
cried she, as she entered, "I come to rejoice with you in the
return of your health: I have done all that you required of me,
then pray rise, and give me your hand." "Come near," said the
sultan, still counterfeiting the pronunciation of the blacks. She
did so. "You are not near enough," he continued, "approach
nearer." She obeyed. He then rose up, and seizing her by the arm
so suddenly, that she had not time to discover him, he with a
blow of his cimeter cut her in two, so that one half fell one way
and the other another. This done he left the body on the spot,
and going out of the Palace of Tears, went to seek the young king
of the Black Isles, who waited for him with great impatience.
When he found him, "Prince," said he, embracing him, "rejoice;
you have now nothing to fear; your cruel enemy is dead."
The young prince returned thanks to the sultan in a manner that
sufficiently the sincerity of his gratitude, and in return wished
him long life and happiness. "You may henceforward," said the
sultan, "dwell peaceably in your capital, unless you will
accompany me to mine, which is near: you shall there be welcome,
and have as much honour and respect shown you as if you were in
your own kingdom." "Potent monarch, to whom I am so much
indebted," replied the king, "you think then that you are near
your capital?" "Yes," said the sultan, "I know it is not above
four or five hours' journey." "It will take you a whole year to
return," said the prince "I do indeed believe that you came
hither from your capital in the time you mention, because mine
was enchanted; but since the enchantment is taken off, things are
changed: however, this shall not prevent my following you, were
it to the utmost corners of the earth. You are my deliverer, and
that I may give you proofs of my acknowledging this during my
whole life, I am willing to accompany you, and to leave my
kingdom without regret."
The sultan was extremely surprised to understand that he was so
far from his dominions, and could not imagine how it could be.
But the young king of the Black Islands convinced him beyond a
possibility of doubt. Then the sultan replied, "It is no matter;
the trouble of returning to my own country is sufficiently
recompensed by the satisfaction of having obliged you, and by
acquiring you for a son; for since you will do me the honour to
accompany me, as I have no child, I look upon you as such, and
from this moment appoint you my heir and successor."
The conversation between the sultan and the king of the Black
Islands concluded with most affectionate embraces, after which
the young prince employed himself in making preparations for his
journey, which were finished in three weeks, to the great regret
of his court and subjects, who agreed to receive at his hands one
of his nearest kindred for their monarch.
At length, the sultan and the young prince began their journey,
with a hundred camels laden with inestimable riches from the
treasury of the young king, followed by fifty handsome gentlemen
on horseback, perfectly well mounted and dressed They had a
pleasant journey; and when the sultan, who had sent couriers to
give advice of his delay, and of the adventure which had
occasioned it, approached his capital, the principal officers
came to receive him, and to assure him that his long absence had
occasioned no alteration in his empire. The inhabitants also came
out in great crowds, received him with acclamations, and made
public rejoicings for several days.
The day after his arrival the sultan gave all his courtiers a
very ample account of the circumstances, which, contrary to his
expectation, had detained him so long. He acquainted them with
his having adopted the king of the Four Black Islands, who was
willing to leave a great kingdom, to accompany and live with him;
and, in reward for their loyalty, he made each of them presents
according to their rank.
As for the fisherman, as he was the first cause of the
deliverance of the young prince, the sultan gave him a plentiful
fortune, which made him and his family happy the rest of their
days.
STORY OF THE THREE CALENDERS, SONS OF
SULTANS; AND OF THE FIVE LADIES OF BAGDAD.
In the reign of Caliph Haroon al Rusheed, there was at Bagdad, a
porter, who, notwithstanding his mean and laborious business, was
a fellow of wit and good humour. One morning as he was at the
place where he usually plyed, with a great basket, waiting for
employment, a handsome young lady, covered with a great muslin
veil, accosted him, and said with a pleasant air, "Hark you,
porter, take your basket and follow me." The porter, charmed with
these words, pronounced in so agreeable a manner, took his basket
immediately, set it on his head, and followed the lady,
exclaiming, "O happy day, O day of good luck!"
In a short time the lady stopped before a gate that was shut, and
knocked: a Christian, with a venerable long white beard, opened
it; and she put money into his hand, without speaking; but the
Christian, who knew what she wanted, went in, and in a little
time, brought a large jug of excellent wine. "Take this jug,"
said the lady to the porter, "and put it in your basket." This
being done, she commanded him to follow her; and as she
proceeded, the porter continued his exclamation, "O happy day!
This is a day of agreeable surprise and joy."
The lady stopped at a fruit-shop, where she bought several sorts
of apples, apricots, peaches, quinces, lemons, citrons, oranges;
myrtles, sweet basil, lilies, jessamin, and some other flowers
and fragrant plants; she bid the porter put all into his basket,
and follow her. As she went by a butcher's stall, she made him
weigh her twenty five pounds of his best meat, which she ordered
the porter to put also into his basket. At another shop, she took
capers, tarragon, cucumbers, sassafras, and other herbs,
preserved in vinegar: at another, she bought pistachios, walnuts,
filberts, almonds, kernels of pine-apples, and such other fruits;
and at another, all sorts of confectionery. When the porter had
put all these things into his basket, and perceived that it grew
full, "My good lady," said he, "you ought to have given me notice
that you had so much provision to carry, and then I would have
brought a horse, or rather a camel, for the purpose; for if you
buy ever so little more, I shall not be able to bear it." The
lady laughed at the fellow's pleasant humour, and ordered him
still to follow her.
She then went to a druggist, where she furnished herself with all
manner of sweet-scented waters, cloves, musk, pepper, ginger, and
a great piece of ambergris, and several other Indian spices; this
quite filled the porter's basket, and she ordered him to follow
her. They walked till they came to a magnificent house, whose
front was adorned with fine columns, and had a gate of ivory.
There they stopped, and the lady knocked softly.
While the young lady and the porter waited for the opening of the
gate, the porter made a thousand reflections. He wondered that
such a fine lady should come abroad to buy provisions; he
concluded she could not be a slave, her air was too noble, and
therefore he thought she must needs be a woman of quality. Just
as he was about to ask her some questions upon this head, another
lady came to open the gate, and appeared to him so beautiful,
that he was perfectly surprised, or rather so much struck with
her charms, that he had nearly suffered his basket to fall, for
he had never seen any beauty that equalled her.
The lady who brought the porter with her, perceiving his
disorder, and knowing the cause, was greatly diverted, and took
so much pleasure in watching his looks, that she forgot the gate
was opened. "Pray, Sister," said the beautiful portress, "come
in, what do you stay for? Do not you see this poor man so heavy
laden, that he is scarcely able to stand,"
When she entered with the porter, the lady who had opened the
gate shut it, and all three, after having passed through a
splendid vestibule, entered a spacious court, encompassed with an
open gallery, which had a communication with several apartments
of extraordinary magnificence. At the farther end of the court
there was a platform, richly furnished, with a throne of amber in
the middle, supported by four columns of ebony, enriched with
diamonds and pearls of an extraordinary size, and covered with
red satin embroidered with Indian gold of admirable workmanship.
In the middle of the court there was a fountain, faced with white
marble, and full of clear water, which was copiously supplied out
of the mouth of a lion of brass.
The porter, though heavy laden, could not but admire the
magnificence of this house, and the excellent order in which
every thing was placed; but what particularly captivated his
attention, was a third lady, who seemed to be more beautiful than
the second, and was seated upon the throne just mentioned; she
descended as soon as she saw the two others, and advanced towards
them: he judged by the respect which the other ladies showed her,
that she was the chief, in which he was not mistaken. This lady
was called Zobeide, she who opened the gate Safie, and she who
went to buy the provisions was named Amene.
Zobeide said to the two ladies, when she came to them, "Sisters,
do not you see that this honest man is ready to sink under his
burden, why do not you ease him of it?" Then Amene and Safie took
the basket, the one before and the other behind; Zobeide also
assisted, and all three together set it on the ground; then
emptied it; and when they had done, the beautiful Amene took out
money, and paid the porter liberally.
The porter was well satisfied with the money he had received; but
when he ought to have departed, he could not summon sufficient
resolution for the purpose. He was chained to the spot by the
pleasure of beholding three such beauties, who appeared to him
equally charming; for Amene having now laid aside her veil,
proved to be as handsome as either of the others. What surprised
him most was, that he saw no man about the house, yet most of the
provisions he had brought in, as the dry fruits, and the several
sorts of cakes and confections, were adapted chiefly for those
who could drink and make merry.
Zobeide thought at first, that the porter staid only to take
breath, but perceiving that he remained too long, "What do you
wait for," said she, "are you not sufficiently paid?" And turning
to Amene. she continued, "Sister, give him something more, that
he may depart satisfied." "Madam," replied the porter, "it is not
that which detains me, I am already more than paid for my
services; I am sensible that I act rudely in staying longer than
I ought, but I hope you will the goodness to pardon me, when I
tell you, that I am astonished not to see a man with three ladies
of such extraordinary beauty: and you know that a company of
women without men is as melancholy as a company of men without
women." To this he added several other pleasant things, to prove
what he said, and did not forget the Bagdad proverb, "That the
table is not completely furnished, except there be four in
company:" and so concluded, that since they were but three, they
wanted another.
The ladies fell a laughing at the porter's reasoning; after which
Zobeide gravely addressed him, "Friend, you presume rather too
much; and though you do not deserve that I should enter into any
explanation with you, I have no objection to inform you that we
are three sisters, who transact our affairs with so much secrecy
that no one knows any thing of them. We have but too much reason
to be cautious of acquainting indiscreet persons with our
counsel; and a good author that we have read, says, Keep thy own
secret, and do not reveal it to any one. He that makes his secret
known it no longer its master. If thy own breast cannot keep thy
counsel, how canst thou expect the breast of another to be more
faithful?'"
"My ladies," replied the porter, "by your very air, I judged at
first that you were persons of extraordinary merit, and I
conceive that I am not mistaken. Though fortune has not given me
wealth enough to raise me above my mean profession, yet I have
not omitted to cultivate my mind as much as I could, by reading
books of science and history; and allow me, I beseech you, to
say, that I have also read in another author a maxim which I have
always happily followed: We conceal our secret from such persons
only as are known to all the world to want discretion, and would
abuse our confidence; but we hesitate not to discover it to the
prudent, because we know that with them it is safe.' A secret in
my keeping is as secure as if it were locked up in a cabinet, the
key of which is lost, and the door sealed up."
Zobeide perceiving that the porter was not deficient in wit, but
thinking he wished to share in their festivity, answered him,
smiling, "You know that we have been making preparations to
regale ourselves, and that, as you have seen, at a considerable
expense; it is not just that you should now partake of the
entertainment without contributing to the cost." The beautiful
Safie seconded her sister, and said to the porter, "Friend. have
you never heard the common saying, If you bring something with
you, you shall carry something away, but if you bring nothing,
you shall depart empty?'"
The porter, notwithstanding his rhetoric, must, in all
probability, have retired in confusion, if Amene had not taken
his part, and said to Zobeide and Safie, "My dear sisters, I
conjure you to let him remain; I need not tell you that he will
afford us some diversion, of this you perceive he is capable: I
assure you, had it not been for his readiness, his alacrity, and
courage to follow me, I could not have done so much business, in
so short a time; besides, where I to repeat to you all the
obliging expressions he addressed to me by the way, you would not
feel surprised at my taking his part."
At these words of Amene, the porter was so transported with joy,
that he fell on his knees, kissed the ground at her feet, and
raising himself up, said, "Most beautiful lady, you began my good
fortune to-day, and now you complete it by this generous conduct;
I cannot adequately express my acknowledgments. As to the rest,
ladies," said he, addressing himself to all the three sisters,
"since you do me so great an honour, do not think that I will
abuse it, or look upon myself as deserving of the distinction.
No, I shall always look upon myself as one of your most humble
slaves." When he had spoken these words he would have returned
the money he had received, but Zobeide ordered him to keep it.
"What we have once given," said she, "to reward those who have
served us, we never take back. My friend, in consenting to your
staying with us, I must forewarn you, that it is not the only
condition we impose upon you that you keep inviolable the secret
we may entrust to you, but we also require you to attend to the
strictest rules of good manners." During this address, the
charming Amene put off the apparel she went abroad with, and
fastened her robe to her girdle that she might act with the
greater freedom; she then brought in several sorts of meat, wine,
and cups of gold. Soon after, the ladies took their places, and
made the porter sit down by them, who was overjoyed to see
himself seated with three such admirable beauties. After they had
eaten a little, Amene took a cup, poured some wine into it, and
drank first herself; she then filled the cup to her sisters, who
drank in course as they sat; and at last she filled it the fourth
time for the porter, who, as he received it, kissed Amene's hand;
and before he drank, sung a song to this purpose. That as the
wind bears with it the sweet scents of the purfumed places over
which it passes, so the wine he was going to drink, coming from
her fair hands, received a more exquisite flavour than it
naturally possessed. The song pleased the ladies much, and each
of them afterwards sung one in her turn. In short, they were all
very pleasant during the repast, which lasted a considerable
time, and nothing was wanting that could serve to render it
agreeable. The day drawing to a close, Safie spoke in the name of
the three ladies, and said to the porter, "Arise, it is time for
you to depart." But the porter, not willing to leave good
company, cried, "Alas! ladies, whither do you command me to go in
my present condition? What with drinking and your society, I am
quite beside myself. I shall never find the way home; allow me
this night to recover myself, in any place you please, but go
when I will, I shall leave the best part of myself behind."
Amene pleaded the second time for the porter, saying, "Sisters,
he is right, I am pleased with the request, he having already
diverted us so well; and, if you will take my advice, or if you
love me as much as I think you do, let us keep him for the
remainder of the night." "Sister," answered Zobeide, "we can
refuse you nothing;" and then turning to the porter, said, "We
are willing once more to grant your request, but upon this new
condition, that, whatever we do in your presence relating either
to ourselves or any thing else, you do not so much as open your
mouth to ask the reason; for if you put any questions respecting
what does not concern you, you may chance to hear what you will
not like; beware therefore, and be not too inquisitive to pry
into the motives of our actions.
"Madam," replied the porter, "I promise to abide by this
condition, that you shall have no cause to complain, and far less
to punish my indiscretion; my tongue shall be immovable on this
occasion, and my eye like a looking-glass, which retains nothing
of the objets that is set before it." "To shew you," said Zobeide
with a serious countenance, "that what we demand of you is not a
new thing among us, read what is written over our gate on the
inside."
The porter went and read these words, written in large characters
of gold: "He who speaks of things that do not concern him, shall
hear things that will not please him." Returning again to the
three sisters, "Ladies," said he, "I swear to you that you shall
never hear me utter a word respecting what does not relate to me,
or wherein you may have any concern."
These preliminaries being settled, Amene brought in supper, and
after she had lighted up the room with tapers, made of aloe-wood
and ambergris, which yield a most agreeable perfume, as well as a
delicate light, she sat down with her sisters and the porter.
They began again to eat and drink, to sing, and repeat verses.
The ladies diverted themselves in intoxicating the porter, under
pretext of making him drink their healths, and the repast was
enlivened by reciprocal flashes of wit. When they were all in the
best humour possible, they heard a knocking at the gate.
When the ladies heard the knocking, they all three got up to open
the gate; but Safie was the nimblest; which her sisters
perceiving, they resumed their seats. Safie returning, said,
"Sisters, we have a very fine opportunity of passing a good part
of the night pleasantly, and if you agree with me, you will not
suffer it to go by. There are three calenders at our gate, at
least they appear to be such by their habit; but what will
surprise you is, they are all three blind of the right eye, and
have their heads, beards, and eye-brows shaved. They say, they
are but just come to Bagdad, where they never were before; it
being night, and not knowing where to find a lodging, they
happened by chance to knock at this gate, and pray us, for the
love of heaven, to have compassion on them, and receive them into
the house. They care not what place we put them in, provided they
may be under shelter; they would be satisfied with a stable. They
are young and handsome, and seem not to want spirit. But I cannot
without laughing think of their amusing and uniform figure." Here
Safie laughed so heartily, that the two sisters and the porter
could not refrain from laughing also. "My dear sisters," said
she, "you will permit them to come in; it is impossible but that
with such persons as I have described them to be, we shall finish
the day better than we began it; they will afford us diversion
enough, and put us to no charge, because they desire shelter only
for this night, and resolve to leave us as soon as day appears."
Zobeide and Amene made some difficulty to grant Safie's request,
for reasons which she herself well knew. But being very desirous
to obtain this favour, they could not refuse her; "Go then," said
Zobeide, "and bring them in, but do not forget to acquaint them
that they must not speak of any thing which does not concern
them, and cause them to read what is written over the gate."
Safie ran out with joy, and in a little time after returned with
the three calenders.
At their entrance they made a profound obeisance to the ladies,
who rose up to receive them, and told them courteously that they
were welcome, that they were glad of the opportunity to oblige
them, and to contribute towards relieving the fatigues of their
journey, and at last invited them to sit down with them.
The magnificence of the place, and the civility they received,
inspired the calenders with high respect for the ladies: but,
before they sat down, having by chance cast their eyes upon the
porter, whom they saw clad almost like those devotees with whom
they have continual disputes respecting several points of
discipline, because they never shave their beards nor eye-brows;
one of them said, "I believe we have got here one of our revolted
Arabian brethren."
The porter having his head warm with wine, took offence and with
a fierce look, without stirring from his place, answered, "Sit
you down, and do not meddle with what does not concern you: have
you not read the inscription over the gate? Do not pretend to
make people live after your fashion, but follow ours."
"Honest man," said the calender, "do not put yourself in a
passion; we should be sorry to give you the least occasion; on
the contrary, we are ready to receive your commands." Upon which,
to put an end to the dispute, the ladies interposed, and pacified
them. When the calenders were seated, the ladies served them with
meat; and Safie, being highly pleased with them, did not let them
want for wine.
After the calenders had eaten and drunk liberally, they signified
to the ladies, that they wished to entertain them with a concert
of music, if they had any instruments in the house, and would
cause them to be brought: they willingly accepted the proposal,
and fair Safie going to fetch them, returned again in a moment,
and presented them with a flute of her own country fashion,
another of the Persian, and a tabor. Each man took the instrument
he liked, and all three together began to play a tune The ladies,
who knew the words of a merry song that suited the air, joined
the concert with their voices; but the words of the song made
them now and then stop, and fall into excessive laughter.
In the height of this diversion, when the company were in the
midst of their jollity, a knocking was heard at the gate; Safie
left off singing, and went to see who it was. The caliph Haroon
al Rusheed was frequently in the habit of walking abroad in
disguise by night, that he might discover if every thing was
quiet in the city, and see that no disorders were committed.
This night the caliph went out on his rambles, accompanied by
Jaaffier his grand vizier, and Mesrour the chief of the eunuchs
of his palace, all disguised in merchants' habits; and passing
through the street where the three ladies dwelt, he heard the
sound of music and fits of loud laughter; upon which he commanded
the vizier, to knock, as he wished to enter to ascertain the
reason. The vizier, in vain represented to him that the noise
proceeded from some women who were merry-making, that without
question their heads were warm with wine, and that it would not
be proper he should expose himself to be affronted by them:
besides, it was not yet an unlawful hour, and therefore he ought
not to disturb them in their mirth. "No matter," said the caliph,
"I command you to knock." Jaaffier complied; Safie opened the
gate, and the vizier, perceiving by the light in her hand, that
she was an incomparable beauty, with a very low salutation said,
"We are three merchants of Mossoul, who arrived here about ten
days ago with rich merchandise, which we have in a warehouse at a
caravan-serai, where we have also our lodging. We happened this
evening to be with a merchant of this city, who invited us to his
house, where we had a splendid entertainment: and the wine having
put us in good humour, he sent for a company of dancers. Night
being come on, and the music and dancers making a great noise,
the watch, passing by, caused the gate to be opened and some of
the company to be taken up; but we had the good fortune to escape
by getting over the wall. Being strangers, and somewhat overcome
with wine, we are afraid of meeting that or some other watch,
before we get home to our khan. Besides, before we can arrive
there the gates will be shut, and will not be opened till
morning: wherefore, hearing, as we passed by this way, the sound
of music, we supposed you were not yet going to rest, and made
bold to knock at your gate, to beg the favour of lodging
ourselves in the house till morning; and if you think us worthy
of your good company, we will endeavour to contribute to your
diversion to the best of our power, to make some amends for the
interruption we have given you; if not, we only beg the favour of
staying this night in your vestibule."
Whilst Jaaffier was speaking, Safie had time to observe the
vizier, and his two companions, who were said to be merchants
like himself, and told them that she was not mistress of the
house; but if they would have a minute's patience, she would
return with an answer.
Safie made the business known to her sisters, who considered for
some time what to do: but being naturally of a good disposition,
and having granted the same favour to the three calenders, they
at last consented to let them in.
The caliph, his grand vizier, and the chief of the eunuchs, being
introduced by the fair Safie, very courteously saluted the ladies
and the calenders. The ladies returned their salutations,
supposing them to be merchants. Zobeide, as the chief, addressed
them with a grave and serious countenance, which was natural to
her, and said, "You are welcome. But before I proceed farther, I
hope you will not take it ill if we desire one favour of you."
"Alas!" said the vizier, "what favour? We can refuse nothing to
such fair ladies." Zobeide continued, "It is that, while here,
you would have eyes, but no tongues; that you question us not for
the reason of any thing you may see, and speak not of any thing
that does not concern you, lest you hear what will by no means
please you."
"Madam," replied the vizier, "you shall be obeyed. We are not
censorious, nor impertinently curious; it is enough for us to
notice affairs that concern us, without meddling with what does
not belong to us." Upon this they all sat down, and the company
being united, they drank to the health of the new-comers.
While the vizier, entertained the ladies in conversation, the
caliph could not forbear admiring their extraordinary beauty,
graceful behaviour, pleasant humour, and ready wit; on the other
hand, nothing struck him with more surprise than the calenders
being all three blind of the right eye. He would gladly have
learnt the cause of this singularity; but the conditions so
lately imposed upon himself and his companions would not allow
him to speak. These circumstances, with the richness of the
furniture, the exact order of every thing, and the neatness of
the house, made him think they were in some enchanted place.
Their conversation happening to turn upon diversions, and the
different ways of making merry; the calenders arose, and danced
after their fashion, which augmented the good opinion the ladies
had conceived of them, and procured them the esteem of the caliph
and his companions.
When the three calenders had finished their dance, Zobeide arose,
and taking Amene by the hand, said, "Pray, sister, arise, for the
company will not be offended if we use our freedom, and their
presence need not hinder the performance of our customary
exercise." Amene understanding her sister's meaning, rose from
her seat, carried away the dishes, the flasks and cups, together
with the instruments which the calenders had played upon.
Safie was not idle, but swept the room, put every thing again in
its place, trimmed the lamps, and put fresh aloes and ambergris
to them; this being done, she requested the three calenders to
sit down upon the sofa at one side, and the caliph with his
companions on the other: then addressing herself to the porter,
she said, "Get up, and prepare yourself to assist us in what we
are going to do; a man like you, who is one of the family, ought
not to be idle." The porter, being somewhat recovered from his
wine, arose immediately, and having tied the sleeve of his gown
to his belt, answered, "Here am I, ready to obey your commands."
"Very well," replied Safie, "stay till you are spoken to; and you
shall not be idle long." A little time after, Amene came in with
a chair, which she placed in the middle of the room; and then
went towards a closet. Having opened the door, she beckoned to
the porter, and said, "Come hither and assist me." He obeyed, and
entered the closet, and returned immediately, leading two black
bitches, each of them secured by a collar and chain; they
appeared as if they had been severely whipped with rods, and he
brought them into the middle of the apartment.
Zobeide, rising from her seat between the calenders and the
caliph, moved very gravely towards the porter; "Come," said she,
heaving a deep sigh, "let us perform our duty:" she then tucked
up her sleeves above her elbows, and receiving a rod from Safie,
"Porter," said she, "deliver one of the bitches to my sister
Amene, and bring the other to me."
The porter did as he was commanded. Upon this the bitch that he
held in his hand began to howl, and turning towards Zobeide, held
her head up in a supplicating posture; but Zobeide, having no
regard to the sad countenance of the animal, which would have
moved pity, nor to her cries that resounded through the house,
whipped her with the rod till she was out of breath; and having
spent her strength, threw down the rod, and taking the chain from
the porter, lifted up the bitch by her paws, and looking upon her
with a sad and pitiful countenance, they both wept: after which,
Zobeide, with her handkerchief, wiped the tears from the bitch's
eye, kissed her, returned the chain to the porter, desired him to
carry her to the place whence he took her, and bring her the
other. The porter led back the whipped bitch to the closet, and
receiving the other from Amene, presented her to Zobeide, who
requested him to hold her as he had done the first, took up the
rod, and treated her after the same manner; and when she had wept
over her, she dried her eyes, kissed her, and returned her to the
porter: but Amene spared him the trouble of leading her back into
the closet, and did it herself. The three calenders, with the
caliph and his companions, were extremely surprised at this
exhibition, and could not comprehend why Zobeide, after having so
furiously beaten those two bitches, that by the moosulman
religion are reckoned unclean animals, should weep with them,
wipe off their tears, and kiss them. They muttered among
themselves, and the caliph, who, being more impatient than the
rest, longed exceedingly to be informed of the cause of so
strange a proceeding, could not forbear making signs to the
vizier to ask the question: the vizier turned his head another
way; but being pressed by repeated signs, he answered by others,
that it was not yet time for the caliph to satisfy his curiosity.
Zobeide sat still some time in the middle of the room, where she
had whipped the two bitches, to recover herself of her fatigue;
and Safie called to her, "Dear sister, will you not be pleased to
return to your place, that I may also aft my part?" "Yes,
sister," replied Zobeide; and then went, and sat down upon the
sofa, having the caliph, Jaaffier, and Mesrour, on her right
hand, and the three calenders, with the porter, on her left.
After Zobeide had taken her seat, the whole company remained
silent for some time; at last, Safie, sitting on a chair in the
middle of the room, spoke to her sister Amene, "Dear sister, I
conjure you to rise; you know what I would say." Amene rose, and
went into another closet, near to that where the bitches were,
and brought out a case covered with yellow satin, richly
embroidered with gold and green silk. She went towards Safie and
opened the case, from whence she took a lute, and presented it to
her: and after some time spent in tuning it, Safie began to play,
and accompanying the instrument with her voice, sung a song about
the torments that absence creates to lovers, with so much
sweetness, that it charmed the caliph and all the company. Having
sung with much passion and action, she said to Amene, "Pray take
it, sister, for my voice fails me; oblige the company with a
tune, and a song in my stead." "Very willingly," replied Amene,
who, taking the lute from her sister Safie, sat down in her
place.
Amene played and sung almost as long upon the same subject, but
with so much vehemence, and was so much affected, or rather
transported, by the words of the song, that her strength failed
her as she finished.
Zobeide, desirous of testifying her satisfaction, said, "Sister,
you have done wonders, and we may easily see that you feel the
grief you have expressed in so lively a manner." Amene was
prevented from answering this civility, her heart being so
sensibly touched at the moment, that she was obliged, for air, to
uncover her neck and bosom, which did not appear so fair as might
have been expected; but, on the contrary, were black and full of
scars, which surprised and affected all the spectators. However,
this gave her no ease, for she fell into a fit.
When Zobeide and Safie had run to help their sister, one of the
calenders could not forbear saying, "We had better have slept in
the streets than have come hither to behold such spectacles." The
caliph, who heard this, came to him and the other calenders, and
asked them what might be the meaning of all this? They answered,
"We know no more than you do." "What," said the caliph, "are you
not of the family? Can you not resolve us concerning the two
black bitches and the lady that fainted away, who appears to have
been so basely abused?" "Sir," said the calenders, "this is the
first time of our being in the house; we came in but a few
minutes before you."
This increased the caliph's astonishment: "Probably," said he,
"this man who is with you may know something of the matter." One
of the calenders beckoned the porter to come near; and asked him,
whether he knew why those two black bitches had been whipped, and
why Amene's bosom was so scarred. "Sir," said the porter, "I can
swear by heaven, that if you know nothing of all this, I know as
little as you do. It is true, I live in this city, but I never
was in the house until now, and if you are surprised to see me I
am as much so to find myself in your company; and that which
increases my wonder is, that I have not seen one man with these
ladies."
The caliph and his company, as well as the calenders, had
supposed the porter to be one of the family, and hoped he would
have been able to give them the information they sought; but
finding he could not, and resolving to satisfy his curiosity, the
caliph said to the rest, "We are seven men, and have but three
women to deal with; let us try if we can oblige them to explain
what we have seen, and if they refuse by fair means, we are in a
condition to compel them by force."
The grand vizier Jaaffier objected to this, and shewed the caliph
what might be the consequence. Without discovering the prince to
the calenders, he addressed him as if he had been a merchant, and
said, "Consider, I pray you, that our reputation is at stake. You
know the conditions on which these ladies consented to receive
us, and which we agreed to observe; what will they say of us if
we break them? We shall be still more to blame, if any mischief
befall us; for it is not likely that they would have extorted
such a promise from us, without knowing themselves to be in a
condition to punish us for its violation."
Here the vizier took the caliph aside, and whispered to him, "The
night will soon be at an end, and if your majesty will only be
pleased to have so much patience, I will to-morrow morning bring
these ladies before your throne, where you may be informed of all
that you desire to know." Though this advice was very judicious,
the caliph rejected it, desired the vizier to hold his tongue,
and said, he would not wait so long, but would immediately have
his curiosity satisfied.
The next business was to settle who should carry the message. The
caliph endeavoured to prevail with the calenders to speak first;
but they excused themselves, and at last they agreed that the
porter should be the man: as they were consulting how to word
this fatal question, Zobeide returned from her sister Amene, who
was recovered of her fit. She drew near them, and having
overheard them speaking pretty loud, said, "Gentlemen, what is
the subject of your conversation? What are you disputing about?"
The porter answered immediately, "Madam, these gentlemen beseech
you to inform them why you wept over your two bitches after you
had whipped them so severely, and how the bosom of that lady who
lately fainted away came to be so full of scars? These are the
questions I am ordered to ask in their name."
At these words, Zobeide put on a stern countenance, and turning
towards the caliph and the rest of the company, "Is it true,
gentlemen," said she, "that you desired him to ask me these
questions?" All of them, except the vizier Jaaffier, who spoke
not a word, answered, "Yes." On which she exclaimed, in a tone
that sufficiently expressed her resentment, "Before we granted
you the favour of receiving you into our house, and to prevent
all occasion of trouble from you, because we are alone, we
imposed the condition that you should not speak of any thing that
did not concern you, lest you might hear that which would not
please you; and yet after having received and entertained you,
you make no scruple to break your promise. It is true that our
easy temper has occasioned this, but that shall not excuse your
rudeness." As she spoke these words, she gave three stamps with
her foot, and clapping her hands as often together, cried, "Come
quickly:" upon this, a door flew open, and seven black slaves
rushed in; every one seized a man, threw him on the ground, and
dragged him into the middle of the room, brandishing a cimeter
over his head.
We may easily conceive the caliph then repented, but too late,
that he had not taken the advice of his vizier, who, with
Mesrour, the calenders and porter, was from his ill-timed
curiosity on the point of forfeiting his life. Before they would
strike the fatal blow, one of the slaves said to Zobeide, and her
sisters: "High, mighty, and adorable mistresses, do you command
us to strike off their heads?" "Stay," said Zobeide, "I must
examine them first." The frightened porter interrupted her thus:
"In the name of heaven, do not put me to death for another man's
crime. I am innocent; they are to blame." "Alas!" said he,
weeping, "how pleasantly did we pass our time! those blind
calenders are the cause of this misfortune; there is no town in
the world but suffers wherever these inauspicious fellows come.
Madam, I beg you not to destroy the innocent with the guilty, and
consider, that it is more glorious to pardon such a wretch as I
am, who have no way to help myself, than to sacrifice me to your
resentment."
Zobeide, notwithstanding her anger, could not but laugh within
herself at the porter's lamentation: but without replying to him,
she spoke a second time to the rest; "Answer me, and say who you
are, otherwise you shall not live one moment longer: I cannot
believe you to be honest men, or persons of authority or
distinction in your own countries; for if you were, you would
have been more modest and more respectful to us."
The caliph, naturally warm, was infinitely more indignant than
the rest, to find his life depending upon the command of a woman:
but he began to conceive some hopes, when he found she wished to
know who they all were; for he imagined she would not put him to
death, when informed of his quality; therefore he spoke with a
low voice to the vizier, who was near him, to declare it
speedily: but the vizier, more prudent, resolved to save his
master's honour, and not let the world know the affront he had
brought upon himself by his own imprudence; and therefore
answered, "We have what we deserve." But if he had intended to
speak as the caliph commanded him, Zobeide would not have allowed
him time: for having turned to the calenders, and seeing them all
blind with one eye, she asked if they were brothers. One of them
answered, "No, madam, no otherwise than as we are calenders; that
is to say, as we observe the same rules." "Were you born blind of
the right eye," continued she? "No, madam," answered he; "I lost
my eye in such a surprising adventure, that it would be
instructive to every body were it in writing: after that
misfortune I shaved my beard and eyebrows, and took the habit of
a calender which I now wear."
Zobeide asked the other two calenders the same question, and had
the same answers; but the last who spoke added, "Madam, to shew
you that we are no common fellows, and that you may have some
consideration for us, be pleased to know, that we are all three
sons of sultans; and though we never met together till this
evening, yet we have had time enough to make that known to one
another; and I assure you that the sultans from whom we derive
our being were famous in the world."
At this discourse Zobeide suppressed her anger, and said to the
slaves, "Give them their liberty a while, but remain where you
are. Those who tell us their history, and the occasion of their
coming, do them no hurt, let them go where they please; but do
not spare those who refuse to give us that satisfaction."
The three calendars, the caliph, the grand vizier, Jaaffier, the
eunuch Mesrour, and the porter, were all in the middle of the
hall, seated upon a carpet in the presence of the three ladies,
who reclined upon a sofa, and the slaves stood ready to do
whatever their mistresses should command.
The porter, understanding that he might extricate himself from
danger by telling his history, spoke first, and said, "Madam, you
know my history already, and the occasion of my coming hither; so
that what I have to say will be very short. My lady, your sister,
called me this morning at the place where I plyed as porter to
see if any body would employ me, that I might get my bread; I
followed her to a vintner's, then to a herb-shop, then to one
where oranges, lemons, and citrons were sold, then to a grocer's,
next to a confectioner's, and a druggist's, with my basket upon
my head as full as I was able to carry it; then I came hither,
where you had the goodness to suffer me to continue till now, a
favour that I shall never forget. This, madam, is my history."
When the porter had done, Zobeide said to him, "Depart, let us
see you here no more." "Madam," replied the porter, "I beg you to
let me stay; it would not be just, after the rest have had the
pleasure to hear my history, that I should not also have the
satisfaction of hearing theirs." And having spoken thus, he sat
down at the end of the sofa, glad at heart to have escaped the
danger that had frightened him so much. After him, one of the
three calenders directing his speech to Zobeide, as the principal
of the three ladies, began thus:
The History of the First Calender.
Madam, in order to inform you how I lost my right eye, and why I
was obliged to put myself into a calender's habit, I must tell
you, that I am a sultan's son born: my father had a brother who
reigned over a neighbouring kingdom; and the prince his son and I
were nearly of the same age.
After I had learned my exercises, the sultan my father granted me
such liberty as suited my dignity. I went regularly every year to
see my uncle, at whose court I amused myself for a month or two,
and then returned again to my father's. These journeys cemented a
firm and intimate friendship between the prince my cousin and
myself. The last time I saw him, he received me with greater
demonstrations of tenderness than he had done at any time before;
and resolving one day to give me a treat, he made great
preparations for that purpose. We continued a long time at table,
and after we had both supped; "Cousin," said he, "you will hardly
be able to guess how I have been employed since your last
departure from hence, about a year past. I have had a great many
men at work to perfect a design I have formed; I have caused an
edifice to be built, which is now finished so as to be habitable:
you will not be displeased if I shew it you. But first you are to
promise me upon oath, that you will keep my secret, according to
the confidence I repose in you."
The affection and familiarity that subsisted between us would not
allow me to refuse him any thing. I very readily took the oath
required of me: upon which he said to me, "Stay here till I
return, I will be with you in a moment; and accordingly he came
with a lady in his hand, of singular beauty, and magnificently
apparelled: he did not intimate who she was, neither did I think
it would be polite to enquire. We sat down again with this lady
at table, where we continued some time, conversing upon
indifferent subjects; and now and then filling a glass to each
other's health. After which the prince said, "Cousin, we must
lose no time; therefore pray oblige me by taking this lady along
with you, and conducting her to such a place, where you will see
a tomb newly built in form of a dome: you will easily know it;
the gate is open; enter it together, and tarry till I come, which
will be very speedily."
Being true to my oath, I made no farther enquiry, but took the
lady by the hand, and by the directions which the prince my
cousin had given me, I brought her to the place. We were scarcely
got thither, when we saw the prince following us, carrying a
pitcher of water, a
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