{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_3446/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_3446","id":"gutenberg_3446","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/3446","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Fairy tales","Tales -- Arab countries"],"text":"SUPPLEMENTAL\n                             NIGHTS\n                  To The Book Of The Thousand\n                   And One Nights With Notes\n                      Anthropological And\n                          Explanatory\n\n                               By\n                       Richard F. Burton\n\n                           VOLUME TWO\n              Privately Printed By The Burton Club\n\n\n\n                     To Henry Irving, Esq.\n\nMy Dear Irving,\n\n     To a consummate artist like yourself I need hardly suggest\nthat The Nights still offers many a virgin mine to the\nPlaywright; and I inscribe this volume to you, not only in\nadmiration of your genius but in the hope that you will find\nmeans of exploiting the hidden wealth which awaits only your\n\"Open Sesame!\"\n\n                    Every yours sincerely,\n                       Richard F. Burton.\n\nLondon, August 1, 1886.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                Contents of the Twelfth Volume.\n\n\n13.  Al-Malik Al-Zahir Rukn Al-Din Bibars Al-Bundukdari and the\n     Sixteen Captains of Police\n     a.   First Constable's History\n     b.   Second Constable's History\n     c.   Third Constable's History\n     d.   Fourth Constable's History\n     e.   Fifth Constable's History\n     f.   Sixth Constable's History\n     g.   Seventh Constable's History\n     h.   Eighth Constable's History\n          ha.  The Thief's Tale\n     i.   Ninth Constable's History\n     j.   Tenth Constable's History\n     k.   Eleventh Constable's History\n     l.   Twelfth Constable's History\n     m.   Thirteenth Constable's History\n     n.   Fourteenth Constable's History\n          na.  A Merry Jest of a Clever Thief\n          nb.  Tale of the Old Sharper\n     o.   Fifteenth Constable's History\n     p.   Sixteenth Constable's History\n14.  Tale of Harun Al-Rashid and Abdullah Bin Nafi'\n     a.   Tale of the Damsel Torfat Al-Kulub and the Caliph Harun\n          Al-Rashid\n15.  Women's Wiles\n16.  Nur Al-Din Ali of Damascus and the Damsel Sitt Al-Milah\n17.  Tale of King Ins Bin Kays and His Daughter with the Son of\n     King Al-'Abb\ufffds\n18.  Tale of the Two kings and the Wazir's Daughters\n19.  The Concubine and the Caliph\n20.  The Concubine of Al-Maamun\n\nAppendix: Variants and Analogues of Some of the Tales in Vols. XI\n                            and XII.\n                       by W. A. Clouston\n\nThe Sleeper and the Waker\nThe Ten Wazirs; or the History of King Azadbakht and His Son\nKing Dadbin and His Wazirs\nKing Aylan Shah and Abu Tammam\nKing Sulayman Shah and His Niece\nFiruz and His Wife\nKing Shah Bakht and His Wazir Al-Rahwan\nOn the Art of Enlarging Pearls\nThe Singer and the Druggist\nThe King Who Kenned the Quintessence of Things\nThe Prince Who Fell in Love With the Picture\nThe Fuller, His Wife, and the Trooper\nThe Simpleton Husband\nThe Three Men and Our Lord Isa\nThe Melancholist and the Sharper\nThe Devout Woman Accused of Lewdness\nThe Weaver Who Became a Leach by Order of His Wife\nThe King Who Lost Kingdom, Wife, and Wealth\nAl-Malik Al-Zahir and the Sixteen Captains of Police\nThe Thief's Tale\nThe Ninth Constable's Story\nThe Fifteenth Constable's Story\nThe Damsel Tuhfat Al-Kulub\nWomen's Wiles\nNur Al-Din and the Damsel Sitt Al-Milah\nKing Ins Bin Kays and his Daughter\n\nAdditional Notes:\n     Firuz and His Wife\n     The Singer and the Druggist\n     The Fuller, His Wife, and the Trooper\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                      Supplemental Nights\n\n                       To The Book Of The\n\n                  Thousand Nights And A Night\n\n\n\n\n\n\n            AL-MALIK AL-ZAHIR RUKN AL-DIN BIBARS AL-\n             BUNDUKDARI AND THE SIXTEEN CAPTAINS OF\n                         POLICE.[FN#1]\n\n\n\n\nThere was once in the climes[FN#2] of Egypt and the city of\nCairo, under the Turks, a king of the valiant kings and the\nexceeding mighty Soldans, hight Al-Malik al-Z\ufffdhir Rukn al-Din\nBibars al-Bundukd\ufffdri,[FN#3] who was used to storm the Islamite\nsconces and the strongholds of \"The Shore\"[FN#4] and the Nazarene\ncitadels. His Chief of Police in the capital of his kingdom{} was\njust to the folk, all of them; and Al-Malik al-Zahir delighted in\nstories of the common sort and of that which men purposed in\nthought; and he loved to see this with his own eyes and to hear\ntheir sayings with his own ears. Now it fortuned that he heard\none night from a certain of his nocturnal reciters[FN#5] that\namong women are those who are doughtier than the doughtiest men\nand prower of prowess, and that among them are some who will\nengage in fight singular with the sword and others who beguile\nthe quickest-witted of Walis and baffle them and bring down on\nthem all manner of miseries; wherefore said the Soldan, \"I would\nlief hear this of their legerdemain from one of those who have\nhad to do with it, so I may hearken unto him and cause him\ndiscourse.\" And one of the story-tellers said, \"O king, send for\nthe Chief of Police of this thy city.\" Now 'Alam al-Din[FN#6]\nSanjar was at that time Wali and he was a man of experience, in\naffairs well versed; so the king sent for him and when he came\nbefore him, he discovered to him that which was in his mind.\nQuoth Sanjar, \"I will do my endeavour for that which our lord\nseeketh.\" Then he arose and returning to his house, summoned the\nCaptains of the watch and the Lieutenants of the ward and said to\nthem, \"Know that I purpose to marry my son and make him a bridal\nbanquet, and I desire that ye assemble, all of you, in one place.\nI also will be present, I and my company, and do ye relate that\nwhich you have heard of rare occurrences and that which hath\nbetided you of experiences.\" And the Captains and Runners and\nAgents of Police answered him, \"'Tis well: Bismillah--in the name\nof Allah! We will make thee see all this with thine own eyes and\nhear it with thine own ears.\" Then the Chief of Police arose and\ngoing up to Al-Malik al-Zahir, informed him that the assembly\nwould meet on such a day at his house; and the Soldan said, \"'Tis\nwell,\" and gave him somewhat of coin for his spending-money. When\nthe appointed day came the Chief of Police set apart for his\nofficers and constables a saloon, which had latticed casements\nranged in order and giving upon the flower-garden, and Al-Malik\nal-Zahir came to him, and he seated himself and the Soldan, in\nthe alcove. Then the tables were spread for them with food and\nthey ate: and when the bowl went round amongst them and their\nsouls were gladdened by meat and drink, they mutually related\nthat which was with them and, revealed their secrets from\nconcealment. The first to discourse was a man, a Captain of the\nWatch, hight Mu'\ufffdn al-Din[FN#7] whose heart was wholly occupied\nwith the love of fair women; and he said, \"Harkye, all ye people\nof high degree, I will acquaint you with an extraordinary affair\nwhich fortuned me aforetime.\" Then he began to tell\n\n\n\n\nThe First Constable's History.[FN#8]\n\n\n\nKnow ye that when I entered the service of this Emir,[FN#9] I had\na great repute and every low fellow and lewd feared me most of\nall mankind, and when I rode through the city, each and every of\nthe folk would point at me with their fingers and sign at me with\ntheir eyes. It happened one day, as I sat in the palace of the\nPrefecture, back-propped against a wall, considering in myself,\nsuddenly there fell somewhat in my lap, and behold, it was a\npurse sealed and tied. So I hent it in hand and lo! it had in it\nan hundred dirhams,[FN#10] but I found not who threw it and I\nsaid, \"Lauded be the Lord, the King of the Kingdoms!\"[FN#11]\nAnother day, as I sat in the same way, somewhat fell on me and\nstartled me, and lookye, 'twas a purse like the first: I took it\nand hiding the matter, made as though I slept, albeit sleep was\nnot with me. One day as I thus shammed sleep, I suddenly sensed\nin my lap a hand, and in it a purse of the finest; so I seized\nthe hand and behold, 'twas that of a fair woman. Quoth I to her,\n\"O my lady, who art thou?\" and quoth she, \"Rise and come away\nfrom here, that I may make myself known to thee.\" Presently I\nrose up and following her, walked on, without tarrying, till we\nstopped at the door of a high-builded house, whereupon I asked\nher, \"O my lady, who art thou? Indeed, thou hast done me\nkindness, and what is the reason of this?\" She answered, \"By\nAllah, O Captain[FN#12] Mu'in, I am a woman on whom love and\nlonging are sore for desire of the daughter of the Kazi Am\ufffdn\nal-Hukm.[FN#13] Now there was between me and her what was and\nfondness for her fell upon my heart and I agreed upon an\nassignation with her, according to possibility and convenience;\nbut her father Amin al-Hukm took her and went away, and my heart\ncleaveth to her and yearning and distraction waxed sore upon me\nfor her sake.\" I said to her, marvelling the while at her words,\n\"What wouldst thou have me do?\" and said she, \"O Captain Mu'in, I\nwould have thee lend me a helping hand.\" Quoth I, \"Where am I and\nwhere is the daughter of the Kazi Amin al-Hukm?\"[FN#14] and quoth\nshe \"Be assured that I would not have thee intrude upon the\nKazi's daughter, but I would fain work for the winning of my\nwishes. This is my will and my want which may not be wroughten\nsave by thine aid.\" Then she added, \"I mean this night to go with\nheart enheartened and hire me bracelets and armlets and anklets\nof price; then will I hie me and sit in the street wherein is the\nhouse of Amin al-Hukm; and when 'tis the season of the round and\nfolk are asleep, do thou pass, thou and those who are with thee\nof the men, and thou wilt see me sitting and on me fine raiment\nand ornaments and wilt smell on me the odour of Ottars; whereupon\ndo thou question me of my case and I will say, 'I hail from the\nCitadel and am of the daughters of the deputies[FN#15] and I came\ndown into the town for a purpose; but night overtook me all\nunawares and the Zuwaylah Gate[FN#16] was shut against me and all\nthe other portals and I knew not whither I should wend this\nnight. Presently I saw this street and noting the goodly fashion\nof its ordinance and its cleanliness, I sheltered me therein\nagainst break of day.' When I speak these words to thee with\ncomplete self-possession,[FN#17] the Chief of the watch will have\nno ill suspicion of me, but will say, 'There's no help but that\nwe leave her with one who will take care of her till morning.'\nThereto do thou rejoin, ''Twere best that she night with Amin\nal-Hukm and lie with his wives[FN#18] and children until dawn of\nday.' Then straightway knock at the Kazi's door, and thus shall I\nhave secured admission into his house, without inconvenience, and\nwon my wish; and--the Peace!\" I said to her, \"By Allah, this is\nan easy matter.\" So, when the night was blackest, we rose to make\nour round, followed by men with girded swords, and went about the\nways and compassed the city, till we came to the street[FN#19]\nwhere was the woman, and it was the middle of the night. Here we\nsmelt mighty rich scents and heard the clink of rings: so I said\nto my comrades, \"Methinks I espy a spectre;\" and the Captain of\nthe watch cried, \"See what it is.\" Accordingly, I undertook the\nwork and entering the thoroughfare presently came out again and\nsaid, \"I have found a fair woman and she telleth me that she is\nfrom the Citadel and that dark night surprised her and she saw\nthis street and noting its cleanness and goodly fashion of\nordinance, knew that it belonged to a great man[FN#20] and that\nneeds must there be in it a guardian to keep watch over it, so\nshe sheltered her therein.\" Quoth the Captain of the watch to me,\n\"Take her and carry her to thy house;\" but quoth I, \"I seek\nrefuge with Allah![FN#21] My house is no strong box[FN#22] and on\nthis woman are trinkets and fine clothing. By Allah, we will not\ndeposit the lady save with Amin al-Hukm, in whose street she hath\nbeen since the first starkening of the darkness; therefore do\nthou leave her with him till the break of day.\" He rejoined, \"Do\nwhatso thou willest.\" So I rapped at the Kazi's gate and out came\na black slave of his slaves, to whom said I, \"O my lord, take\nthis woman and let her be with you till day shall dawn, for that\nthe lieutenant of the Emir Alam al-Din hath found her with\ntrinkets and fine apparel on her, sitting at the door of your\nhouse, and we feared lest her responsibility be upon you;[FN#23]\nwherefore I suggested 'twere meetest she night with you.\" So the\nchattel opened and took her in with him. Now when the morning\nmorrowed, the first who presented himself before the Emir was the\nKazi Amin al-Hukm, leaning on two of his negro slaves; and he was\ncrying out and calling for aid and saying, \"O Emir, crafty and\nperfidious, yesternight thou depositedst with me a woman and\nbroughtest her into my house and home, and she arose in the dark\nand took from me the monies of the little orphans my\nwards,[FN#24] six great bags, each containing a thousand\ndinars,[FN#25] and made off; but as for me, I will say no\nsyllable to thee except in the Soldan's presence.\"[FN#26] When\nthe Wali heard these words, he was troubled and rose and sat down\nin his agitation; then he took the Judge and placing him by his\nside, soothed him and exhorted him to patience, till he had made\nan end of talk, when he turned to the officers and questioned\nthem of that. They fixed the affair on me and said, \"We know\nnothing of this matter but from Captain Mu'in al-Din.\" So the\nKazi turned to me and said, \"Thou wast of accord to practice upon\nme with this woman, for she said she came from the Citadel.\" As\nfor me, I stood, with my head bowed ground-wards, forgetting both\nSunnah and Farz,[FN#27] and remained sunk in thought, saying,\n\"How came I to be the dupe of that randy wench?\" Then cried the\nEmir to me, \"What aileth thee that thou answerest not?\" Thereupon\nI replied, \"O my lord, 'tis a custom among the folk that he who\nhath a payment to make at a certain date is allowed three days'\ngrace: do thou have patience with me so long, and if, at the end\nof that time, the culprit be not found, I will be responsible for\nthat which is lost.\" When the folk heard my speech they all\napproved it as reasonable and the Wali turned to the Kazi and\nsware to him that he would do his utmost to recover the stolen\nmonies adding, \"And they shall be restored to thee.\" Then he went\naway, whilst I mounted without stay or delay and began to-ing and\nfro-ing about the world without purpose, and indeed I was become\nthe underling of a woman without honesty or honour; and I went my\nrounds in this way all that my day and that my night, but\nhappened not upon tidings of her; and thus I did on the morrow.\nOn the third day I said to myself, \"Thou art mad or silly;\" for I\nwas wandering in quest of a woman who knew me[FN#28] and I knew\nher not, she being veiled when I met her. Then I went round about\nthe third day till the hour of mid-afternoon prayer, and sore\nwaxed my cark and my care for I kenned that there remained to me\nof my life but the morrow, when the Chief of Police would send\nfor me. However, as sundown-time came, I passed through one of\nthe main streets, and saw a woman at a window; her door was ajar\nand she was clapping her hands and casting sidelong glances at\nme, as who should say, \"Come up by the door.\" So I went up,\nwithout fear or suspicion, and when I entered, she rose and\nclasped me to her breast. I marvelled at the matter and quoth she\nto me, \"I am she whom thou depositedst with Amin al-Hukm.\" Quoth\nI to her, \"O my sister, I have been going round and round in\nrequest of thee, for indeed thou hast done a deed which will be\nchronicled and hast cast me into red death[FN#29] on thine\naccount.\" She asked me, \"Dost thou speak thus to me and thou a\ncaptain of men?\" and I answered, \"How should I not be troubled,\nseeing that I be in concern for an affair I turn over and over in\nmind, more by token that I continue my day long going about\nsearching for thee and in the night I watch its stars and\nplanets?\"[FN#30] Cried she, \"Naught shall betide save weal, and\nthou shalt get the better of him.\"[FN#31] So saying, she rose and\ngoing to a chest, drew out therefrom six bags full of gold and\nsaid to me, \"This is what I took from Amin al-Hukm's house. So an\nthou wilt, restore it; else the whole is lawfully[FN#32] thine;\nand if thou desire other than this, thou shalt obtain it; for I\nhave monies in plenty and I had no design herein save to marry\nthee.\" Then she arose and opening other chests, brought out\ntherefrom wealth galore and I said to her, \"O my sister, I have\nno wish for all this, nor do I want aught except to be quit of\nthat wherein I am.\" Quoth she, \"I came not forth of the Kazi's\nhouse without preparing for thine acquittance.\" Then said she to\nme, \"When the morrow shall morn and Amin al-Hukm shall come to\nthee bear with him till he have made an end of his speech, and\nwhen he is silent, return him no reply; and if the Wali ask,\n'What aileth thee that thou answerest me not?' do thou rejoin, 'O\nlord and master[FN#33] know that the two words are not alike, but\nthere is no helper for the conquered one[FN#34] save Allah\nAlmighty.' The Kazi will cry, 'What is the meaning of thy saying,\nThe two words are not alike?' And do thou retort, 'I deposited\nwith thee a damsel from the palace of the Sultan, and most likely\nsome enemy of hers in thy household hath transgressed against her\nor she hath been secretly murdered. Verily, there were on her\nraiment and ornaments worth a thousand ducats, and hadst thou put\nto the question those who are with thee of slaves and\nslave-girls, needs must thou have litten on some traces of the\ncrime.' When he heareth this from thee, his trouble will redouble\nand he will be amated and will make oath that thou hast no help\nfor it but to go with him to his house: however, do thou say,\n'That will I not do, for I am the party aggrieved, more\nespecially because I am under suspicion with thee.' If he\nredouble in calling on Allah's aid and conjure thee by the oath\nof divorce saying, 'Thou must assuredly come,' do thou reply, 'By\nAllah, I will not go, unless the Chief also go with me.' Then, as\nsoon as thou comest to the house, begin by searching the\nterrace-roofs; then rummage the closets and cabinets; and if thou\nfind naught, humble thyself before the Kazi and be abject and\nfeign thyself subjected, and after stand at the door and look as\nif thou soughtest a place wherein to make water,[FN#35] because\nthere is a dark corner there. Then come forward, with heart\nharder than syenite-stone, and lay hold upon a jar of the jars\nand raise it from its place. Thou wilt find there under it a\nmantilla-skirt; bring it out publicly and call the Wali in a loud\nvoice, before those who are present. Then open it and thou wilt\nfind it full of blood, exceeding for freshness, and therein a\nwoman's walking-boots and a pair of petticoat-trousers and\nsomewhat of linen.\" When I heard from her these words, I rose to\ngo out and she said to me, \"Take these hundred sequins, so they\nmay succour thee; and such is my guest-gift to thee.\" Accordingly\nI took them and leaving her door ajar returned to my lodging.\nNext morning, up came the Judge, with his face like the\nox-eye,[FN#36] and asked, \"In the name of Allah, where is my\ndebtor and where is my property?\" Then he wept and cried out and\nsaid to the Wali, \"Where is that ill-omened fellow, who aboundeth\nin robbery and villainy?\" Thereupon the Chief turned to me and\nsaid, \"Why dost thou not answer the Kazi?\" and I replied, \"O\nEmir, the two heads[FN#37] are not equal, and I, I have no\nhelper;[FN#38] but, an the right be on my side 'twill appear.\" At\nthis the Judge grew hotter of temper and cried out, \"Woe to thee,\nO ill-omened wight! How wilt thou make manifest that the right is\non thy side?\" I replied \"O our lord the Kazi, I deposited with\nthee and in thy charge a woman whom we found at thy door, and on\nher raiment and ornaments of price. Now she is gone, even as\nyesterday is gone;[FN#39] and after this thou turnest upon us and\nsuest me for six thousand gold pieces. By Allah, this is none\nother than a mighty great wrong, and assuredly some foe[FN#40] of\nhers in thy household hath transgressed against her!\" With this\nthe Judge's wrath redoubled and he swore by the most solemn of\noaths that I should go with him and search his house. I replied,\n\"By Allah I will not go, unless the Wali go with us; for, an he\nbe present, he and the officers, thou wilt not dare to work thy\nwicked will upon me.\" So the Kazi rose and swore an oath, saying,\n\"By the truth of Him who created mankind, we will not go but with\nthe Emir!\" Accordingly we repaired to the Judge's house,\naccompanied by the Chief, and going up, searched it through, but\nfound naught; whereat fear fell upon me and the Wali turned to me\nand said, \"Fie upon thee, O ill-omened fellow! thou hast put us\nto shame before the men.\" All this, and I wept and went round\nabout right and left, with the tears running down my face, till\nwe were about to go forth and drew near the door of the house. I\nlooked at the place which the woman had mentioned and asked,\n\"What is yonder dark place I see?\" Then said I to the men, \"Pull\nup[FN#41] this jar with me.\" They did my bidding and I saw\nsomewhat appearing under the jar and said, \"Rummage and look at\nwhat is under it.\" So they searched, and behold, they came upon a\nwoman's mantilla and petticoat-trousers full of blood, which when\nI espied, I fell down in a fainting-fit. Now when the Wali saw\nthis, he said, \"By Allah, the Captain is excused!\" Then my\ncomrades came round about me and sprinkled water on my face till\nI recovered, when I arose and accosting the Kazi (who was covered\nwith confusion), said to him, \"Thou seest that suspicion is\nfallen on thee, and indeed this affair is no light matter,\nbecause this woman's family will assuredly not sit down quietly\nunder her loss.\" Therewith the Kazi's heart quaked and fluttered\nfor that he knew the suspicion had reverted upon him, wherefore\nhis colour yellowed and his limbs smote together; and he paid of\nhis own money, after the measure of that he had lost, so we would\nquench that fire for him.[FN#42] Then we departed from him in\npeace, whilst I said within myself, \"Indeed, the woman falsed me\nnot.\" After that I tarried till three days had passed, when I\nwent to the Hammam and changing my clothes, betook myself to her\nhome, but found the door shut and covered with dust. So I asked\nthe neighbours of her and they answered, \"This house hath been\nempty of habitants these many days; but three days agone there\ncame a woman with an ass, and at supper-time last night she took\nher gear and went away.\" Hereat I turned back, bewildered in my\nwit, and for many a day after I inquired of the dwellers in that\nstreet concerning her, but could happen on no tidings of her. And\nindeed I wondered at the eloquence of her tongue and the\nreadiness of her talk; and this is the most admirable of all I\nhave seen and of whatso hath betided me. When Al-Malik al-Zahir\nheard the tale of Mu'in al-Din, he marvelled thereat. Then rose\nanother constable and said, \"O lord, hear what befel me in bygone\ndays.\"\n\n\n\n\nThe Second Constable's History.\n\n\n\nI was once an overseer in the household of the Emir Jam\ufffdl al-Din\nal-Atwash al-Mujhidi, who was made governor of the two provinces,\nShark\ufffdyah and Gharb\ufffdyah,[FN#43] and I was dear to his heart and\nhe hid from me naught of whatso he desired to do; and he was eke\nmaster of his reason.[FN#44] It came to pass one day of the days\nthat it was reported to him how the daughter of Such-an-one had a\nmint of monies and raiment and ornaments and at that present she\nloved a Jewish man, whom every day she invited to be private with\nher, and they passed the light hours eating and drinking in\ncompany and he lay the night with her. The Wali feigned not to\nbelieve a word of this story, but he summoned the watchmen of the\nquarter one night and questioned them of this tittle-tattle.\nQuoth one of them, \"As for me, O my lord, I saw none save a\nJew[FN#45] enter the street in question one night; but I have not\nmade certain to whom he went in;\" and quoth the Chief, \"Keep\nthine eye on him from this time forward and note what place he\nentereth.\" So the watchman went out and kept his eye on the\nJudaean. One day as the Prefect sat in his house, the watchman\ncame in to him and said, \"O my lord, in very sooth the Jew goeth\nto the house of Such-an-one.\" Whereupon Al-Atwash sprang to his\nfeet and went forth alone, taking with him none save\nmyself.\"[FN#46] As he went along, he said to me, \"Indeed, this\ngirl is a fat piece of meat.\"[FN#47] And we gave not over going\ntill we came to the door of the house and stood there until a\nhand-maid came out, as if to buy them something wanted. We waited\ntill she opened the door, whereupon, without question or answer,\nwe forced our way into the house and rushed in upon the girl,\nwhom we found seated with the Jew in a saloon with four da\u00efses,\nand cooking-pots and candles therein. When her eyes fell on the\nWali, she knew him and rising to her feet, said, \"Well come and\nwelcome and fair cheer! By Allah, great honour hath betided me by\nmy lord's visit and indeed thou dignifiest my dwelling.\" Hereat\nshe carried him up to the dais and seating him on the couch,\nbrought him meat and wine and gave him to drink; after which she\nput off all that was upon her of raiment and ornaments and tying\nthem up in a kerchief, said to him, \"O my lord, this is thy\nportion, all of it.\" Then she turned to the Jew and said to him,\n\"Rise, thou also, and do even as I:\" so he arose in haste and\nwent out very hardly crediting his deliverance.[FN#48] When the\ngirl was assured of his escape, she put out her hand to her\nclothes and jewels and taking them, said to the Chief, \"O Emir,\nis the requital of kindness other than kindness? Thou hast\ndeigned to visit me and eat of my bread and salt; so now arise\nand depart from us without ill-doing; or I will give a single\noutcry and all who are in the street will come forth.\" So the\nEmir went out from her, without having gotten a single dirham;\nand on this wise she delivered the Jew by the seemliness of her\nstratagem. The company admired this tale, and as for the Wali and\nAl-Malik al-Zahir, they said, \"Ever devised any the like of this\ndevice?\" and they marvelled with the utterest of marvel. Then\narose a third constable and said, \"Hear what betided me, for it\nis yet stranger and rarer.\"\n\n\n\n\nThe Third Constable's History.\n\n\n\nI was one day abroad on business with certain of my comrades;\nand, as we walked along behold, we fell in with a company of\nwomen, as they were moons, and among them one, the tallest of\nthem and the handsomest. When I saw her and she saw me, she\nlagged behind her companions and waited for me till I came up to\nher and bespake her. Quoth she, \"O my lord (Allah favour thee!) I\nsaw thee prolong thy looking on me and I fancied that thou\nknewest me. An it be thus, let me learn more of thee.\" Quoth I,\n\"By Allah, I know thee not, save that the Most High Lord hath\ncast the love of thee into my heart and the goodliness of thy\nqualities hath confounded me; and that wherewith the Almighty\nhath gifted thee of those eyes that shoot with shafts hath\ncaptivated me.\" And she rejoined, \"By Allah, indeed I feel the\nlike of that which thou feelest; ay, and even more; so that\nmeseemeth I have known thee from childhood.\" Then said I, \"A man\ncannot well effect all whereof he hath need in the\nmarket-places.\" She asked me, \"Hast thou a house?\" and I\nanswered, \"No, by Allah, nor is this city my dwelling-place.\"\nRejoined she, \"By Allah, nor have I a place; but I will contrive\nfor thee.\" Then she went on before me and I followed her till she\ncame to a lodging-house[FN#49] and said to the Housekeeper, \"Hast\nthou an empty room?\" The other replied, \"Yes:\"[FN#50] and my\nmistress said, \"Give us the key.\" So we took the key and going up\nto see the room, entered to inspect it; after which she went out\nto the Housekeeper and giving her a dirham, said to her \"Take the\ndouceur of the key[FN#51] for the chamber pleaseth us, and here\nis another dirham for thy trouble. Go, fetch us a gugglet of\nwater, so we may refresh ourselves and rest till siesta-time pass\nand the heat decline, when the man will depart and bring our bag\nand baggage.\" Therewith the Housekeeper rejoiced and brought us a\nmat, two gugglets of water on a tray, a fan and a leather rug. We\nabode thus till the setting-in of mid-afternoon, when she said,\n\"Needs must I make the Ghusl-ablution ere I fare.\"[FN#52] Said I,\n\"Get water wherewith we may both wash,\" and drew forth from my\npocket a score or so of dirhams, thinking to give them to her;\nbut she cried, \"Refuge with Allah!\" and brought out of her pocket\na handful of silver, saying, \"But for destiny and that the\nAlmighty hath caused the love of thee fall into my heart, there\nhad not happened that which hath happened.\" Quoth I, \"Accept this\nin requital of that which thou hast spent;\" and quoth she, \"O my\nlord, by and by, whenas mating is prolonged between us, thou wilt\nsee if the like of me looketh unto money and means or no.\" Then\nthe lady took a jar of water and going into the lavatory, made\nthe Ghusl-ablution[FN#53] and presently coming forth, prayed the\nmid-afternoon prayer and craved pardon of Allah Almighty for the\nsin into which she had fallen. Now I had asked her name and she\nanswered, \"Rayh\ufffdnah,\"[FN#54] and described to me her\ndwelling-place. When I saw her make the ablution, I said within\nmyself, \"This woman doth on this wise, and shall I not do the\nlike of her doing?\" Then quoth I to her, \"Peradventure[FN#55]\nthou wilt seek us another jar of water?\" Accordingly she went out\nto the Housekeeper and said to her, \"O my sister, take this Nusf\nand fetch us for it water wherewith we may wash the\nflags.\"[FN#56] So the Housekeeper brought two jars of water and I\ntook one of them and giving her my clothes, entered the lavatory\nand bathed. When I had made an end of bathing, I cried out,\nsaying, \"Harkye, my lady Rayhanah!\" However none answered me. So\nI went out and found her not; but I did find that she had taken\nmy clothes and all that was in them of silver, to wit, four\nhundred dirhams. She had also carried off my turband and my\nkerchief and I lacked the wherewithal to veil my shame; so I\nsuffered somewhat than which death is less grievous and abode\nlooking about the place, hoping that haply I might espy a rag\nwherewith to hide my nakedness. Then I sat a little and presently\ngoing up to the door, smote upon it; whereat up came the\nHousekeeper and I said to her, \"O my sister, what hath Allah done\nwith the woman who was here?\" She replied, \"The lady came down\njust now and said, 'I'm going to cover the boys with the\nclothes,' adding, 'and I have left him sleeping; an he awake,\ntell him not to stir till the clothes come to him.'\" Then cried\nI, \"O my sister, secrets are safe with the fair-dealing and the\nfreeborn. By Allah, this woman is not my wife, nor ever in my\nlife have I seen her before this day!\" And I recounted to her the\nwhole affair and begged of her to cover me, informing her that my\nprivate parts were clean unconcealed. She laughed and cried out\nto the women of the lodging-house, saying, \"Ho, F\ufffdtimah! Ho,\nKhad\ufffdjah! Ho, Har\ufffdfah! Ho, San\ufffdnah!\" Whereupon all those who were\nin the place of women and neighbours flocked to me and fell\na-mocking me and saying, \"O pimp,[FN#57] what hadst thou to do\nwith gallantry?\" Then one of them came and looked in my face and\nlaughed, and another said, \"By Allah, thou mightest have known\nthat she lied, from the time she said she liked thee and was in\nlove with thee! What is there in thee to love?\" A third said,\n\"This is an old man without wisdom;\" and all vied one with other\nin exercising their wits upon me, I suffering mighty sore\nchagrin. However, one of the women took compassion on me after a\nwhile, and brought me a rag of thin stuff and cast it on me. With\nthis I covered my shame, and no more, and abode awhile thus: then\nsaid I in myself, \"The husbands of these women will presently\ngather together upon me and I shall be disgraced.\" So I went out\nby another door of the lodging-house, and young and old crowded\nabout me, running after me and crying, \"A madman! A\nmadman![FN#58] till I came to my house and knocked at the door;\nwhereupon out came my wife and seeing me naked, tall, bare of\nhead, cried out and ran in again, saying, \"This is a maniac, a\nSatan!\" But, when my family and spouse knew me, they rejoiced and\nsaid to me, \"What aileth thee?\" I told them that thieves had\ntaken my clothes and stripped me and had been like to slay me;\nand when I assured them that the rogues would have slaughtered\nme, they praised Allah Almighty and gave me joy of my safety. So\nconsider the craft this woman practised upon me, and I pretending\nto cleverness and wiliness. Those present marvelled at this story\nand at the doings of women; then came forward a fourth constable\nand said, \"Now that which hath betided me of strange adventures\nis yet stranger than this, and 'twas after the following\nfashion.\"\n\n\n\n\nThe Fourth Constable's History.\n\n\n\nWe were sleeping one night on the terrace-roof, when a woman made\nher way through the darkness into the house and, gathering into a\nbundle all that was therein, took it up that she might go away\nwith it. Now she was big with child and nigh upon her time of\ndelivery; so, when she packed up the bundle and prepared to\nshoulder it and make off with it, she hastened the coming of the\nlabour-pangs and bare a child in the dark. Then she sought for\nthe fire-sticks and when they burned, kindled the lamp and went\nround about the house with the little one, and it was weeping.\nThe wail awoke us, as we lay on the roof, and we marvelled. So we\nrose to see what was to do, and looking down through the opening\nof the saloon,[FN#59] saw a woman, who had lit the lamp, and\nheard the little one crying. As we were peering, she heard our\nwords and raising her head to us, said, \"Are ye not ashamed to\ndeal thus with us and bare our shame? Wist ye not that the day\nbelongeth to you and the night to us? Begone from us! By Allah,\nwere it not that ye have been my neighbours these many years, I\nwould assuredly[FN#60] bring down the house upon you!\" We doubted\nnot but that she was of the Jinn and drew back our heads; but,\nwhen we rose on the morrow, we found that she had taken all that\nwas with us and made off with it;[FN#61] wherefore we knew that\nshe was a thief and had practised on us a device, such as was\nnever before practised; and we repented, whenas repentance\navailed us naught. The company, hearing this tale, marvelled\nthereat with the utmost marvelling. Then the fifth constable, who\nwas the lieutenant of the bench,[FN#62] came forward and said,\n\"This is no wonder and there befel me a story which is rarer and\nstranger than this.\"\n\n\n\n\nThe Fifth Constable's History.\n\n\n\nAs I sat one day at the door of the Prefecture, behold, a woman\nsuddenly entered and said as though consulting me. \"O my lord, I\nam the wife of Such-an-one the Leach, and with him is a company\nof the notables[FN#63] of the city, drinking fermented drinks in\nsuch a place.\" When I heard this, I misliked to make a scandal;\nso I bluffed her off and sent her away unsatisfied. Then I rose\nand walked alone to the place in question and sat without till\nthe door opened, when I rushed in and entering, found the company\neven as the woman aforesaid had set out, and she herself with\nthem. I saluted them and they returned my salam and rising,\ntreated me with honour and seated me and served me with meat.\nThen I informed them how one had denounced them to me, but I had\ndriven him away and had come to them by myself; so they thanked\nme and praising me for my kindness, brought out to me from among\nthem two thousand dirhams[FN#64] and I took them and went away.\nNow two months after this adventure, there came to me one of the\nKazi's officers, with a paper, wherein was the judge's writ,\nsummoning me to him. So I accompanied the officer and went in to\nthe Kazi, whereupon the plaintiff, he who had taken out the\nsummons, sued me for two thousand dirhams, declaring I had\nborrowed them of him as the agent or guardian of the woman. I\ndenied the debt, but he produced against me a bond for that sum,\nattested by four of those who were in company on the occasion;\nand they were present and bore witness to the loan. I reminded\nthem of my kindness and paid the amount, swearing that I would\nnever again follow a woman's counsel. Is not this marvellous? The\ncompany admired the goodliness of his tale and it pleased\nAl-Malik al-Zahir; and the Wali said, \"By Allah, this is a\nstrange story!\" Then came forward the sixth constable and said to\nthose present, \"Hear my adventure and that which befel me, to\nwit, that which befel Such-an-one the Assessor, for 'tis rarer\nthan this and finer.\"\n\n\n\n\nThe Sixth Constable's History.\n\n\n\nA certain Assessor one day of the days was taken with a woman and\nmuch people assembled before his house and the Lieutenant of\npolice and his posse came to him and rapped at the door. The\nAssessor peered from house-top and seeing the folk, said, \"What\ndo ye want?\" Replied they, \"Speak with the Lieutenant of police\nSuch-an-one.\" So he came down and as he opened the door they\ncried to him, \"Bring forth the woman who is with thee.\" \"Are ye\nnot ashamed? How shall I bring forth my wife?\" \"Is she thy wife\nby book[FN#65] or without marriage-lines?\" \"She is my wife\naccording to the Book of Allah and the Institutes of His\nApostle.\" \"Where is the contract?\" \"Her lines are in her mother's\nhouse.\" \"Arise thou and come down and show us the writ.\" \"Go from\nher way, so she may come forth.\" Now, as soon as he got wind of\nthe matter, he had written the bond and fashioned it after the\nfashion of his wife,[FN#66] to suit with the case, and he had\nwritten therein the names of certain of his friends to serve as\nwitnesses and forged the signatures of the drawer and the wife's\nnext friend and made it a contract of marriage with his wife and\na legal deed.[FN#67] Accordingly, when the woman was about to go\nout from him, he gave her the contract he had forged, and the\nEmir sent with her a servant of his, to carry her home to her\nfather. So the servant went with her and when she was inside she\nsaid to him, \"I will not return to the citation of the Emir: but\nlet the Assessors present themselves and take my contract.\"\nHereupon the servant carried this message to the Lieutenant of\npolice, who was standing at the Assessor's door, and he said,\n\"This is permissible.\" Then said the Assessor to the servant,\n\"Fare, O eunuch, and fetch us Such-an-one the Notary;\" for that\nhe was his friend and 'twas he whose name he had forged as the\ndrawer-up of the contract.[FN#68] So the Lieutenant sent after\nhim and fetched him to the Assessor, who, when he saw him, said\nto him, \"Get thee to Such-an-one, her with whom thou marriedst\nme, and cry out upon her, and when she cometh to thee,[FN#69]\ndemand of her the contract and take it from her and bring it to\nus.\" And he signed to him, as much as to say, \"Bear me out in the\nlie and screen me, for that she is a strange woman and I[FN#70]\nam in fear of the Lieutenant who standeth at the door; and we\nbeseech Allah Almighty to screen us and you from the woes of this\nworld. Amen.\" So the Notary went up to the Lieutenant, who was\namong the witnesses, and said, \" 'Tis well. Is she not Such-an-\none whose marriage-contract we drew up in such a place?\" Then he\nbetook himself to the woman's house and cried out upon her;\nwhereat she brought him the forged contract and he took it and\nreturned with it to the Lieutenant of police.[FN#71] When the\nofficer had taken cognizance of the document and professed\nhimself satisfied, the Assessor said to the Notary, \"Go to our\nlord and master, the Kazi of the Kazis, and acquaint him with\nthat which befalleth his Assessors.\" The Notary rose to go, but\nthe Lieutenant feared for himself and was urgent in beseeching\nthe Assessor and in kissing his hands till he forgave him;\nwhereupon the Lieutenant went away in the utmost concern and\naffright. On such wise the Assessor ordered the case and carried\nout the forgery and feigned marriage with the woman; and thus\nescaped calumny and calamity by the seemliness of his\nstratagem.[FN#72] The folk marvelled at this with the uttermost\nmarvel and the seventh constable said, \"There befel me in\nAlexandria the God-guarded a wondrous thing, and 'twas\nthis.\"[FN#73]\n\n\n\n\nThe Seventh Constable's History.\n\n\n\nThere came one day an old woman to the stuff-bazar, with a casket\nof mighty fine workmanship, containing trinkets, and she was\naccompanied by a young baggage big with child. The crone sat down\nat the shop of a draper and giving him to know that the girl was\npregnant by the Prefect[FN#74] of Police of the city, took of\nhim, on credit, stuffs to the value of a thousand dinars and\ndeposited with him the casket as security. She opened the casket\nand showed him that which was therein and he found it full of\ntrinkets of price; so he trusted her with the goods and she\nfarewelled him and carrying the stuffs to the girl who was with\nher, went her way. Then the old woman was absent from him a great\nwhile, and when her absence was prolonged, the draper despaired\nof her; so he went up to the Prefect's house and asked anent the\nwoman of his household who had taken his stuffs on credit; but\ncould obtain no tidings of her nor happen on any trace of her.\nThen he brought out the casket of jewellery and showed it to\nexperts, who told him that the trinkets were gilt and that their\nworth was but an hundred dirhams. When he heard this, he was sore\nconcerned thereat and presenting himself before the Deputy of the\nSultan made his complaint to him; whereupon the official knew\nthat a sleight had been served upon him and that the sons of\nAdam[FN#75] had cozened him and conquered him and cribbed his\nstuffs. Now the magistrate in question was a man of experience\nand judgment, well versed in affairs; so he said to the draper,\n\"Remove somewhat from thy shop, including the casket, and to-\nmorrow morning break the lock and cry out and come to me and\ncomplain that they have plundered all thy shop.[FN#76] Also mind\nthou call upon Allah for aid and wail aloud and acquaint the\npeople, so that a world of folk may flock to thee and sight the\nbreach of the lock and that which is missing from thy shop: and\non this wise display it to every one who presenteth himself that\nthe news may be noised abroad, and tell them that thy chief\nconcern is for a casket of great value, deposited with thee by a\ngreat man of the town and that thou standest in fear of him. But\nbe thou not afraid and still say ever and anon in thy saying, 'My\ncasket was the casket of Such-an-one, and I fear him and dare not\nbespeak him; but you, O company and all ye who are present, I\ncall you to witness of this for me.' And if there be with thee\nmore than this saying, say it; and the old woman will assuredly\ncome to thee.\" The draper answered with \"To hear is to obey\" and\ngoing forth from the Deputy's presence, betook himself to his\nshop and brought out thence the casket and a somewhat making a\ngreat display, which he removed to his house. At break of day he\narose and going to his shop, broke the lock and shouted and\nshrieked and called on Allah for aid, till each and every of the\nfolk assembled about him and all who were in the city were\npresent, whereupon he cried out to them, saying even as the\nPrefect had bidden him; and this was bruited abroad. Then he made\nfor the Prefecture and presenting himself before the Chief of\nPolice, cried out and complained and made a show of distraction.\nAfter three days, the old woman came to him and bringing him the\nthousand dinars, the price of the stuffs, demanded the\ncasket.[FN#77] When he saw her, he seized her and carried her to\nthe Prefect of the city; and when she came before the Kazi, he\nsaid to her, \"Woe to thee O Sataness; did not thy first deed\nsuffice thee, but thou must come a second time?\" She replied, \"I\nam of those who seek their salvation[FN#78] in the cities, and we\nforegather every month: and, yesterday we foregathered.\" He asked\nher, \"Canst thou cause me to catch them?\" and she answered, \"Yes;\nbut, an thou wait till to-morrow, they will have dispersed; so I\nwill deliver them to thee to-night.\" The Emir said to her, \"Go;\"\nand said she, \"Send with me one who shall go with me to them and\nobey me in whatso I shall say to him, and all that I bid him he\nshall not gainsay and therein conform to my way.\" Accordingly, he\ngave her a company of men and she took them and bringing them to\na certain door, said to them, \"Stand ye here, at this door, and\nwhoso cometh out to you seize him; and I will come out to you\nlast of all.\" \"Hearing and obeying,\" answered they and stood at\nthe door, whilst the crone went in. They waited a whole hour,\neven as the Sultan's deputy had bidden them, but none came out to\nthem and their standing waxed longsome, and when they were weary\nof waiting, they went up to the door and smote upon it a heavy\nblow and a violent, so that they came nigh to break the wooden\nbolt. Then one of them entered and was absent a long while, but\nfound naught; so he returned to his comrades and said to them,\n\"This is the door of a dark passage, leading to such a\nthoroughfare; and indeed she laughed at you and left you and went\naway.\"[FN#79] When they heard his words, they returned to the\nEmir and acquainted him with the case, whereby he knew that the\nold woman was a cunning craft-mistress and that she had mocked at\nthem and cozened them and put a cheat on them, to save herself.\nWitness, then, the wiles of this woman and that which she\ncontrived of guile, for all her lack of foresight in presenting\nherself a second time to the draper and not suspecting that his\nconduct was but a sleight; yet, when she found herself hard upon\ncalamity, she straightway devised a device for her deliverance.\nWhen the company heard the seventh constable's story, they were\nmoved to mirth galore, than which naught could be more; and\nAl-Malik al Zahir B\ufffdbars rejoiced in that which he heard and\nsaid, \"Verily, there betide things in this world wherefrom kings\nare shut out, by reason of their exalted degree!\" Then came\nforward another person from amongst the company and said, \"There\nhath reached me through one of my friends a similar story bearing\non the malice of women and their wiles, and it is more wondrous\nand marvellous, more diverting and more delectable than all that\nhath been told to you.\" Quoth the company there present, \"Tell us\nthy tale and expound it unto us, so we may see that which it hath\nof extraordinary.\" And he began to relate\n\n\n\n\nThe Eighth Constable's History.\n\n\n\nYe must know that a company, amongst whom was a friend of mine,\nonce invited me to an entertainment; so I went with him, and when\nwe came into his house and sat down on his couch, he said to me,\n\"This is a blessed day and a day of gladness, and who is he that\nliveth to see the like of this day? I desire that thou practice\nwith us and disapprove not our proceedings, for that thou hast\nbeen accustomed to fall in with those who offer this.\"[FN#80] I\nconsented thereto and their talk happened upon the like of this\nsubject.[FN#81] Presently, my friend, who had invited me, arose\nfrom among them and said to them, \"Listen to me and I will\nacquaint you with an adventure which happened to me. There was a\ncertain person who used to visit me in my shop, and I knew him\nnot nor he knew me, nor ever in his life had he seen me; but he\nwas wont, whenever he wanted a dirham or two, by way of loan, to\ncome to me and ask me, without acquaintance or introduction\nbetween me and him, and I would give him what he required. I told\nnone of him, and matters abode thus between us a long while till\nhe began a-borrowing at a time ten or twenty dirhams, more or\nless. One day, as I stood in my shop, behold, a woman suddenly\ncame up to me and stopped before me; and she was a presence as\nshe were the full moon rising from among the constellations, and\nthe place was a-light by her light. When I saw her, I fixed my\neyes on her and stared in her face; and she fell to bespeaking me\nwith soft voice. When I heard her words and the sweetness of her\nspeech, I lusted after her; and as soon as she saw that I longed\nfor her, she did her errand and promising me an assignation, went\naway, leaving my thoughts occupied with her and fire a-flame in\nmy heart. Accordingly I abode, perplexed and pondering my affair,\nthe fire still burning in my heart, till the third day, when she\ncame again and I could hardly credit her coming. When I saw her,\nI talked with her and cajoled her and courted her and craved her\nfavour with speech and invited her to my house; but, hearing all\nthis, she only answered, \"I will not go up into any one's house.\"\nQuoth I, \"I will go with thee\" and quoth she, \"Arise and come\nwith me.\" So I rose and putting into my sleeve a kerchief,\nwherein was a fair sum of silver and a considerable, followed the\nwoman, who forwent me and ceased not walking till she brought me\nto a lane and to a door, which she bade me unlock. I refused and\nshe opened it and led me into the vestibule. As soon as I had\nentered, she bolted the entrance door from within and said to me,\n\"Sit here till I go in to the slave-girls and cause them enter a\nplace whence they shall not see me.\" \"'Tis well,\" answered I and\nsat down: whereupon she entered and was absent from me an\neye-twinkling, after which she returned to me, without a veil,\nand straightway said, \"Arise and enter in the name of Allah.\" So\nI arose and went in after her and we gave not over going till we\nreached a saloon. When I examined the place, I found it neither\nhandsome nor pleasant, but desolate and dreadful without symmetry\nor cleanliness; indeed, it was loathsome to look upon and there\nwas in it a foul smell. After this inspection I seated myself\namiddlemost the saloon, misdoubting; and lo and behold! as I sat,\nthere came down on me from the dais a body of seven naked men,\nwithout other clothing than leather belts about their waists. One\nof them walked up to me and took my turband, whilst another\nseized my kerchief that was in my sleeve, with my money, and a\nthird stripped me of my clothes; after which a forth came and\nbound my hands behind my back with his belt. Then they all took\nme up, pinioned as I was, and casting me down, fell a-haling me\ntowards a sink-hole that was there and were about to cut my\nthroat, when suddenly there came a violent knocking at the door.\nAs they heard the raps, they were afraid and their minds were\ndiverted from me by affright; so the woman went out and presently\nreturning, said to them, \"Fear not; no harm shall betide you this\nday. 'Tis only your comrade who hath brought you your dinner.\"\nWith this the new-comer entered, bringing with him a roasted\nlamb; and when he came in to them, he asked, \"What is to do with\nyou, that ye have tucked up sleeves and bag-trousers?\" Replied\nthey, \"This is a head of game we've caught.\" As he heard these\nwords, he came up to me and peering in my face, cried out and\nsaid, \"By Allah, this is my brother, the son of my mother and\nfather! Allah! Allah!\" Then he loosed me from my pinion-bonds and\nbussed my head, and behold it was my friend who used to borrow\nsilver of me. When I kissed his head, he kissed mine and said, \"O\nmy brother, be not affrighted;\" and he called for my clothes and\ncoin and restored all to me nor was aught missing. Also, he\nbrought me a porcelain bowl full of sherbet of sugar, with lemons\ntherein, and gave me to drink; and the company came and seated me\nat a table. So I ate with them and he said to me, \"O my lord and\nmy brother, now have bread and salt passed between us and thou\nhast discovered our secret and our case; but secrets with the\nnoble are safe.\" I replied, 'As I am a lawfully-begotten child\nand a well-born, I will not name aught of this nor denounce you!\"\nThey assured themselves of me by an oath; then they brought me\nout and I went my way, very hardly crediting but that I was of\nthe dead. I lay ill in my house a whole month; after which I went\nto the Hammam and coming out, opened my shop and sat selling and\nbuying as was my wont, but saw no more of that man or that woman\ntill, one day, there stopped before my shop a young\nTurkoman,[FN#82] as he were the full moon; and he was a\nsheep-merchant and had with him a leathern bag, wherein was\nmoney, the price of sheep he had sold. He was followed by the\nwoman, and when he stopped over against my shop, she stood by his\nside and cajoled him, and indeed he inclined to her with great\ninclination. As for me, I was dying of solicitude for him and\nbegan casting furtive glances at him and winked at him, till he\nchanced to look round and saw me signing to him; whereupon the\nwoman gazed at me and made a signal with her hand and went away.\nThe Turkoman followed her and I deemed him dead without a doubt;\nwherefore I feared with exceeding fear and shut my shop. Then I\njourneyed for a year's space and returning, opened my shop;\nwhereupon, behold, the woman as she walked by came up to me and\nsaid, \"This is none other than a great absence.\" I replied, \"I\nhave been on a journey;\" and she asked, \"Why didst thou wink at\nthe Turkoman?\" I answered, \"Allah forfend! I did not wink at\nhim.\" Quoth she, \"Beware lest thou thwart me;\" and went away.\nAwhile after this a familiar of mine invited me to his house and\nwhen I came to him, we ate and drank and chatted. Then he asked\nme, \"O my friend, hath there befallen thee aught of sore trouble\nin the length of thy life?\" Answered I, \"Tell me first, hath\nthere befallen thee aught?\" He rejoined, \"Know that one day I\nespied a fair woman; so I followed her and sued her to come home\nwith me. Quoth she, 'I will not enter any one's house but my own;\nso come thou to my home, an thou wilt, and be it on such a day.'\nAccordingly, on the appointed day, her messenger[FN#83] came to\nme, proposing to carry me to her; and when he announced his\npurpose I arose and went with him, till we arrived at a goodly\nhouse and a great door. He opened the door and I entered,\nwhereupon he bolted it behind me and would have gone in; but I\nfeared with exceeding fear and foregoing him to the second door,\nwhereby he would have had me enter, bolted it and cried out at\nhim, saying, 'By Allah, an thou open not to me, I will slay\nthee;[FN#84] for I am none of those whom thou canst readily\ncozen!' 'What deemest thou of cozening?' 'Verily, I am startled\nby the loneliness of the house and the lack of any keeper at its\ndoor; for I see none appear.' 'O my lord, this is a private\ndoor.' 'Private or public, open to me.' So he opened to me and I\nwent out and had gone but a little way from the door when I met a\nwoman, who said to me, 'A long life was fore-ordained to thee;\nelse hadst thou never come forth of yonder house.' I asked, 'How\nso?' and she answered, 'Enquire of thy friend Such-an-one,'\n(naming thee), 'and he will acquaint thee with strange things.'\nSo, Allah upon thee, O my friend, tell me what befel thee of\nwondrous and marvellous, for I have told thee what befel me.\" \"O\nmy brother, I am bound by a solemn oath.\" \"O my friend, false\nthine oath and tell me.\"[FN#85] \"Indeed, I dread the issue of\nthis.\" But he urged me till I told him all, whereat he marvelled.\nThen I went away from him and abode a long while, without further\nnews. One day, I met another of my friends who said to me, \"A\nneighbour of mine hath invited me to hear singers\" but I\nsaid:--\"I will not foregather with any one.\" However, he\nprevailed upon me; so we repaired to the place and found there a\nperson, who came to meet us and said, \"Bismillah!\"[FN#86] Then he\npulled out a key and opened the door, whereupon we entered and he\nlocked the door after us. Quoth I, \"We are the first of the folk;\nbut where be the singers' voices?\" He replied, \"They're within\nthe house: this is but a private door; so be not amazed at the\nabsence of the folk.\" My friend said to me, \"Behold, we are two,\nand what can they dare to do with us?\" Then he brought us into\nthe house, and when we entered the saloon, we found it desolate\nexceedingly and dreadful of aspect. Quoth my friend, \"We are\nfallen into a trap; but there is no Majesty and there is no Might\nsave in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!\" And quoth I, \"May God\nnever requite thee for me with good!\"[FN#87] Then we sat down on\nthe edge of the dais and suddenly I espied a closet beside me; so\nI peered into it and my friend asked me, \"What seest thou?\" I\nanswered, \"I see there wealth in store and corpses of murdered\nmen galore. Look.\" So he looked and cried, \"By Allah, we are down\namong the dead!\" and we fell a-weeping, I and he. As we were\nthus, behold, four men came in upon us, by the door at which we\nhad entered, and they were naked, wearing only leather belts\nabout their waists, and made for my friend. He ran at them and\ndealing one of them a blow with his swordpommel, knocked him\ndown, whereupon the other three rushed upon him. I seized the\nopportunity to escape while they were occupied with him, and\nespying a door by my side, slipped into it and found myself in an\nunderground room, without issue, even a window. So I made sure of\ndeath, and said, \"There is no Majesty and there is no Might save\nin Allah, the Glorious, the Great!\" Then I looked at the top of\nthe vault and saw in it a range of glazed and coloured\nlunettes;[FN#88] so I clambered up for dear life, till I reached\nthe lunettes, and I out of my wits for fear. I made shift to\nremove the glass and scrambling out through the setting, found\nbehind them a wall which I bestrode. Thence I saw folk walking in\nthe street; so I cast myself down on the ground and Allah\nAlmighty preserved me, and when I reached the face of earth,\nunhurt, the folk flocked round me and I acquainted them with my\nadventure. Now as Destiny decreed, the Chief of Police was\npassing through the market-street; so the people told him what\nwas to do and he made for the door and bade raise it off its\nhinges. We entered with a rush and found the thieves, as they had\nthrown my friend down and cut his throat; for they occupied not\nthemselves with me, but said, \"Whither shall yonder fellow wend?\nVerily, he is in our grasp.\" So the Wali hent them with the\nhand[FN#89] and questioned them of their case, and they confessed\nagainst the woman and against their associates in Cairo. Then he\ntook them and went forth, after he had locked up the house and\nsealed it; and I accompanied him till he came without the first\nhouse. He found the door bolted from within; so he bade raise it\nand we entered and found another door. This also he caused pull\nup, enjoining his men to silence till the doors should be lifted,\nand we entered and found the band occupied with new game, whom\nthe woman had just brought in and whose throat they were about to\ncut. The Chief released the man and gave him back whatso the\nthieves had taken from him; and he laid hands on the woman and\nthe rest and took forth of the house a mint of money, with which\nthey found the purse of the Turkoman sheep-merchant. They at once\nnailed up the thieves against the house-wall, whilst, as for the\nwoman, they wrapped her in one of her mantillas and nailing her\nto a board, set her upon a camel and went round about the town\nwith her. Thus Allah razed their dwelling-places and did away\nfrom me that which I feared from them. All this befel, whilst I\nlooked on, and I saw not my friend who had saved me from them the\nfirst time, whereat I wondered to the utterest of wonderment.\nHowever, some days afterward, he came up to me, and indeed he had\nrenounced the world and donned a Fakir's dress; and he saluted me\nand went away.[FN#90] Then he again began to pay me frequent\nvisits and I entered into conversation with him and questioned\nhim of the band and how he came to escape, he alone of them all.\nHe replied, \"I left them from the day on which Allah the Most High\ndelivered thee from them, for that they would not obey my say; so\nI sware I would no longer consort with them.\" Quoth I, \"By Allah,\nI marvel at thee, for that assuredly thou wast the cause of my\npreservation!\" Quoth he, \"The world is full of this sort; and we\nbeseech the Almighty to send us safety, for that these wretches\npractice upon men with every kind of malpractice.\" Then I said to\nhim, \"Tell me the rarest adventure of all that befel thee in this\nvillainy thou wast wont to work.\" And he answered, \"O my brother,\nI was not present when they did such deeds, for that my part with\nthem was to concern myself with selling and buying and feeding\nthem; but it hath reached me that the rarest thing which befel\nthem was on this wise.\"\n\n\n\n\nThe Thief's Tale.\n\n\n\nThe woman who acted decoy for them and trapped their game and\nused to inveigle damsels from marriage-banquets, once caught them\na woman from a bride-feast, under pretence that she had a wedding\nin her own house, and fixed for her a day when she should come to\nher. As soon as the appointed time arrived, the woman presented\nherself and the other carried her into the house by a door,\ndeclaring that it was a private wicket. When she entered the\nsaloon, she saw men and braves[FN#91] and knew that she had\nfallen into a snare; so she looked at them and said, \"Harkye, my\nfine fellows![FN#92] I am a woman and in my slaughter there is no\nglory, nor have ye against me any feud of blood-wite wherefor ye\nshould pursue me; and that which is upon me of raiment and\nornaments ye are free to take as lawful loot.\" Quoth they, \"We\nfear thy denunciation;\" but quoth she, \"I will abide with you,\nneither coming in nor going out.\" So they said, \"We grant thee\nthy life.\" Then the Captain looked on her and she pleased him; so\nhe took her for himself, and she abode with him a whole year\ndoing her very best in their service, till they became familiar\nwith her and felt assured of her faith. One night of the nights\nshe plied them with drink and they drank till they became\ndrunken; whereupon she arose and took her clothes and five\nhundred dinars from the Captain; after which she fetched a razor\nand shaved off all their beards. Then she took soot from the\ncooking-pots and blackening their faces[FN#93] opened the doors\nand fared forth; and when the thieves recovered from their drink,\nthey abode confounded and knew that the woman had practiced upon\nthem. All present marvelled at this his story and the ninth\nconstable came forward and said, \"I will tell you a right\npleasant tale I heard at a wedding.\"\n\n\n\n\nThe Ninth Constable's History.\n\n\n\nA certain singing-girl was fair of favour and bruited of repute,\nand it happened one day that she fared forth to a garden\na-pleasuring. As she sat in the summer-house, behold, a man\nlopped of the hand stopped to beg of her, and suddenly entered in\nat the door. Then he touched her with his stump, saying, \"An\nalms, for the love of Allah!\"[FN#94] but she answered, \"Allah\nopen!\" and insulted him. Many days after this, there came to her\na messenger and gave her the hire of her going forth.[FN#95] So\nshe took with her a hand-maid and an accompanyist;[FN#96] and\nwhen she came to the place appointed, the messenger brought her\ninto a long passage, at the end whereof was a saloon. \"So\" (quoth\nshe) \"we entered therein and found nobody, but we saw the room\nmade ready for an entertainment with candles, dried fruits and\nwine, and in another place we saw food and in a third beds.\nThereupon we sat down and I looked at him who had opened the door\nto us, and behold he was lopped of the hand. I misliked this, and\nwhen I sat a little longer, there entered a man, who filled the\ncandelabra in the saloon and lit the waxen candles; and behold,\nhe also was handlopped. Then flocked the folk and there entered\nnone except he were lopped of the hand, and indeed the house was\nfull of these companions.[FN#97] When the session was complete,\nthe host came in and the company rose to him and seated him in\nthe place of honour. Now he was none other than the man who had\nfetched me, and he was clad in sumptuous clothes, but his hands\nwere in his sleeves, so that I knew not how it was with them.\nThey brought him food and he ate, he and the company; after which\nthey washed hands and the host began casting at me furtive\nglances. Then they drank till they were drunken, and when they\nhad taken leave of their wits, the host turned to me and said,\n'Thou dealtest not in friendly fashion with him who sought an\nalms of thee, and thou saidst to him, \"How loathsome art thou!\"'\u00b4\nI considered him and behold, he was the lophand who had accosted\nme in my pleasance.[FN#98] So I asked, 'O my lord, what is this\nthou sayest?' and he answered, 'Wait; thou shalt remember it.' So\nsaying, he shook his head and stroked his beard, whilst I sat\ndown for fear. Then he put out his hand to my mantilla and\nwalking-boots and laying them by his side, cried to me, 'Sing, O\naccursed!' Accordingly, I sang till I was tired out, what while\nthey occupied themselves with their case and drank themselves\ndrunk and the heat of their drink redoubled. Presently, the\ndoorkeeper came to me and said, 'O my lady, fear not; but when\nthou hast a mind to go, let me know.' Quoth I, 'Thinkest thou to\ndelude me?' and quoth he, 'Nay, by Allah! But I have ruth on thee\nfor that our Captain and chief purposeth thee no good and\nmethinketh he will kill thee this night.' Said I to him, 'An thou\nbe minded to do me a favour, now is its time;' and said he, 'When\nour Chief riseth to his need and goeth to the Chapel of Ease, I\nwill precede him with the light and leave the door open; and do\nthou wend whithersoever thou wiliest.' Then I sang and the\nCaptain cried, ''Tis good.' Replied I, 'Nay, but thou'rt\nloathsome.' He looked at me and rejoined, 'By Allah, thou shalt\nnever more scent the odour of the world!' But his comrades said\nto him, 'Do it not,' and gentled him, till he added, 'An it must\nbe so, and there be no help for it, she shall tarry here a whole\nyear and not fare forth.' My answer was, 'I am content to submit\nto whatso pleaseth thee: if I have failed in respect to thee,\nthou art of the clement.' He shook his head and drank, then arose\nand went out to do his need, whilst his comrades were occupied\nwith what they were about of merry-making and drunkenness and\nsport. So I winked to my friends and we all slipped out into the\ncorridor. We found the door open and fled forth, unveiled[FN#99]\nand unknowing whither we went; nor did we halt till we had fared\nafar from the house and happened on a Cook cooking, of whom I\nasked, 'Hast thou a mind to quicken the dead?' He said, 'Come\nup;' so we went up into the shop, and he whispered, 'Lie down.'\nAccordingly, we lay down and he covered us with the Halfah\ngrass,[FN#100] wherewith he was used to kindle the fire under the\nfood. Hardly had we settled ourselves in the place when we heard\na noise of kicking at the door and people running right and left\nand questioning the Cook and asking, 'Hath any one passed by\nthee?' Answered he, 'None hath passed by me.' But they ceased not\nto go round about the shop till the day broke, when they turned\nback, disappointed. Then the Cook removed the reeds and said to\nus, 'Rise, for ye are delivered from death.' So we arose, and we\nwere uncovered, sans veil or mantilla; but the Cook carried us up\ninto his house and we sent to our homes and fetched us veils; and\nwe repented to Allah Almighty and renounced singing, for indeed\nthis was a mighty narrow escape after stress.\"[FN#101] Those\npresent marvelled at this, and the tenth constable came forward\nand said, \"As for me, there befel me that which was yet rarer\nthan all ye have yet heard.\" Quoth Al-Malik al-Zahir, \"What was\nthat?\" And quoth he, \"Deign give ear to me.\"\n\n\n\n\nThe Tenth Constable's History.\n\n\n\nA robbery of stuffs had been committed in the city and as it was\na great matter I was cited,[FN#102] I and my fellows:\nthey[FN#103] pressed hard upon us: but we obtained of them some\ndays' grace and dispersed in search of the stolen goods. As for\nme, I sallied forth with five men and went round about the city\nthat day; and on the morrow we fared forth into the suburbs. When\nwe found ourselves a parasang or two parasangs away from the\ncity, we waxed athirst; and presently we came to a garden. There\nI went in alone and going up to the waterwheel,[FN#104] entered\nit and drank and made the Wuzu-ablution and prayed. Presently, up\ncame the keeper of the garden and said to me, \"Woe to thee! Who\nbrought thee to this water-wheel?\" and he smote me and squeezed my\nribs[FN#105] till I was like to die. Then he bound me with one of\nhis bulls and made me work the water-wheel, flogging me as I\nwalked round with a cattle-whip[FN#106] he had with him, till my\nheart was a-fire; after which he loosed me and I went out,\nknowing not the way. Now when I came forth, I fainted: so I sat\ndown till my trouble subsided; then I made for my comrades and\nsaid to them, \"'I have found money and malefactor, and I\naffrighted him not neither troubled him, lest he should flee; but\nnow, come, let us go to him, so we may contrive to lay hold upon\nhim.\" Then I took them and we repaired to the keeper of the\ngarden, who had tortured me with tunding, with the intent to make\nhim taste the like of that which he had done with me and lie\nagainst him and cause him eat many a stick. So we rushed to the\nwaterwheel and seized the keeper. Now there was with him a youth\nand, as we were pinioning the gardener, he said, \"By Allah, I was\nnot with him and indeed 'tis six months since I entered this\ncity, nor did I set eyes on the stuffs until they were brought\nhither.\" Quoth we, \"Show us the stuffs;\" upon which he carried us\nto a place wherein was a pit, beside the waterwheel, and digging\nthere, brought out the stolen goods with not a thread or a stitch\nof them missing. So we took them and carried the keeper to the\nPrefecture of Police where we stripped him and beat him with\npalm-rods till he confessed to thefts manifold. Now I did this by\nway of mockery against my comrades, and it succeeded. The company\nmarvelled at this story with the utmost marvelling, and the\neleventh constable rose and said, \"I know a story yet stranger\nthan this: but it happened not to myself.\"\n\n\n\n\nThe Eleventh Constable's History.\n\n\n\nThere was once in times of yore a Chief Officer of Police and\nthere passed by him one day of the days a Jew, hending in hand a\nbasket wherein were five thousand dinars; whereupon quoth that\nofficer to one of his slaves, \"Art able to take that money from\nyonder Jew's basket?\" \"Yes,\" quoth he, nor did he tarry beyond\nthe next day ere he came to his lord, bringing the basket. \"So\"\n(said the officer) \"I bade him 'Go, bury it in such a place;'\nwhereupon he went and buried it and returned and told me. Hardly\nhad he reported this when there arose a clamour like that of\nDoomsday and up came the Jew, with one of the King's officers,\ndeclaring that the gold pieces belonged to the Sultan and that he\nlooked to none but us for it. We demanded of him three days'\ndelay, according to custom and I said to him who had taken the\nmoney, 'Go and set in the Jew's house somewhat that shall occupy\nhim with himself.' Accordingly he went and played a mighty fine\ntrick, which was, he laid in a basket a dead woman's hand,\npainted with henna and having a gold seal-ring on one of the\nfingers, and buried that basket under a slab in the Jew's home.\nThen we came and searched and found the basket, whereupon without\na moment of delay we clapped the Jew in irons for the murder of a\nwoman. As soon as it was the appointed time, there entered to us\nthe man of the Sultan's guards, who had accompanied the Jew, when\nhe came to complain of the loss of the money,[FN#107] and said,\n'The Sultan sayeth to you, Nail up[FN#108] the Jew and bring the\nmoney, for there is no way by which five thousand gold pieces can\nbe lost.' Wherefore we knew that our device did not suffice. So I\nwent forth and finding a young man, a Haur\ufffdni,[FN#109] passing\nalong the road, laid hands on him forthright and stripped him,\nand whipped him with palm-rods. Then I threw him in jail, ironed,\nand carrying him to the Prefecture, beat him again, saying to\nthem, 'This be the robber who stole the coin.' And we strove to\nmake him confess; but he would not. Accordingly, we beat him a\nthird and a fourth time, till we were aweary and exhausted and he\nbecame unable to return a reply; but, when we had made an end of\nbeating and tormenting him, he said, 'I will fetch the money this\nvery moment.' Presently we went with him till he came to the\nplace where my slave had buried the gold and he dug there and\nbrought it out; whereat I marvelled with the utmost marvel and we\ncarried it to the Prefect's house. When the Wali saw the money\nand made sure of it with his own eyes, he rejoiced with joy\nexceeding and bestowed on me a robe of honour. Then he restored\nthe coin straightway to the Sultan and we left the youth in\ndurance vile; whilst I said to my slave who had taken the money,\n'Say me, did yonder young man see thee, what time thou buriedst\nthe money?' and he replied, 'No, by Allah the Great!' So I went\nin to the young man, the prisoner, and plied him with\nwine[FN#110] till he recovered, when I said to him, 'Tell me how\nthou stolest the money?' Answered he, 'By Allah, I stole it not,\nnor did I ever set eyes on it till I brought it forth of the\nearth!' Quoth I, 'How so?' and quoth he, 'Know that the  cause of\nmy falling into your hands was my parent's imprecation against\nme; because I entreated her evilly yesternight and beat her and\nshe said to me, 'By Allah, O my son, the Lord shall assuredly gar\nthe oppressor prevail over thee!' Now she is a pious woman. So I\nwent out forthright and thou sawest me on my way and didst that\nwhich thou didst; and when beating was prolonged on me, my senses\nfailed me and I heard a voice saying to me, 'Fetch it.' So I said\nto you what I said and the Speaker[FN#111] guided me till I came\nto the place and there befel what befel of the bringing out of\nthe money.' I admired this with the utmost admiration and knew\nthat he was of the sons of the pious. So I bestirred myself for\nhis release and cured him and besought him of acquittance and\nabsolution of responsibility.\" All those who were present\nmarvelled at this story with the utmost marvel, and the twelfth\nconstable came forward and said, \"I will tell you a pleasant\ntrait that I heard from a certain person, concerning an adventure\nwhich befel him with one of the thieves.\n\n\n\n\nThe Twelfth Constable's History.\n\n\n\nI was passing one day in the market, when I found that a robber\nhad broken into the shop of a shroff, a changer of monies, and\nthence taken a casket, wherewith he had made off to the\nburial-ground. Accordingly I followed him thither and came up to\nhim, as he opened the casket and fell a-looking into it;\nwhereupon I accosted him, saying, \"Peace be on you!\"[FN#112] And\nhe was startled at me; so I left him and went away from him. Some\nmonths after this, I met him again under arrest, in the midst of\nthe guards and \"men of violence,\"[FN#113] and he said to them,\n\"Seize this man.\" So they laid hands on me and carried me to the\nChief of Police, who said, \"What hast thou to do with this\nwight?\" The robber turned to me and looking a long while in my\nface, asked, \"Who took this man?\" and the officer answered, \"Thou\nbadest us take him; so we took him.\" And he cried, \"I ask refuge\nof Allah! I know not this man, nor knoweth he me; and I said not\nthat to you but of a person other than this.\" So they released\nme, and a while after the thief met me in the street and saluted\nme with the salam, saying, \"O my lord, fright for fright! Hadst\nthou taken aught from me, thou hadst a part in the\ncalamity.\"[FN#114] I replied to him, \"Allah be the judge between\nthee and me!\"[FN#115] And this is what I have to recount. Then\ncame forward the thirteenth constable and said, \"'I will tell you\na tale which a man of my friends told me.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nThe Thirteenth Constable's History.\n\n\n\nI went out one night of the nights to the house of a friend and\nwhen it was the middle of the night, I sallied forth alone to hie\nme home. When I came into the road, I espied a sort of thieves\nand they espied me, whereupon my spittle dried up; but I feigned\nmyself drunken and staggered from side to side, crying out and\nsaying, \"I am drunken.\" And I went up to the walls right and left\nand made as if I saw not the thieves, who followed me afoot till\nI reached my home and knocked at the door, when they went away.\nSome few days after this, as I stood at the door of my house,\nbehold, there came up to me a young man, with a chain about his\nneck and with him a trooper, and he said to me, \"O my lord, an\nalms for the love of Allah!\" I replied, \"Allah open!\" and he\nlooked at me a long while and cried, \"That which thou shouldst\ngive me would not come to the worth of thy turband or thy\nwaistcloth or what not else of thy habit, to say nothing of the\ngold and the silver which were about thy person.\" I asked, \"And\nhow so?\" and he answered, \"On such a night, when thou fellest\ninto peril and the thieves would have stripped thee, I was with\nthem and said to them, Yonder man is my lord and my master who\nreared me. So was I and only I the cause of thy deliverance and\nthus I saved thee from them.\" When I heard this, I said to him,\n\"Stop ;\" and entering my house, brought him that which Allah\nAlmighty made easy to me.[FN#116] So he went his way; and this is\nall I have to say. Then came forward the fourteenth constable and\nsaid, \"Know that the tale I have to tell is rarer and pleasanter\nthan this; and 'tis as follows.\"\n\n\n\n\nThe Fourteenth Constable's History.\n\n\n\nI had a draper's shop before I entered this corporation,[FN#117]\nand there used to come to me a person whom I knew not, save by\nhis face, and I would give him whatso he sought and have patience\nwith him, till he could pay me. One night, I foregathered with\ncertain of my friends and we sat down to liquor: so we drank and\nwere merry and played at T\ufffdb;[FN#118] and we made one of us Wazir\nand another Sultan and a third Torchbearer or Headsman.[FN#119]\nPresently, there came in upon us a spunger, without bidding, and\nwe went on playing, whilst he played with us. Then quoth the\nSultan to the Wazir, \"Bring the Parasite who cometh in to the\nfolk, without leave or license, that we may enquire into his\ncase; after which I will cut off his head;\" so the headsmen arose\nand dragged the spunger before the Sultan who bade cut off his\nhead. Now there was with them a sword, that would not cut clotted\ncurd;[FN#120] so the headsmen smote him therewith and his head\nflew from his body. When we saw this, the wine fled from our\nbrains and we became in the foulest of plights. Then my friends\nlifted up the corpse and went out with it, that they might hide\nit, whilst I took the head and made for the river. Now I was\ndrunken and my clothes were drenched with the blood; and as I\npassed along the road, I met a robber. When he saw me, he knew me\nand cried to me, \"Such-an-one!\" \"Well?\" said I, and he rejoined,\n\"What is that thou hast with thee?\" So I acquainted him with the\ncase and he took the head from me. Then we fared on till we came\nto the river, where he washed the head and considering it\nstraitly, exclaimed, \"By Allah, verily this be my brother, the\nson of my sire, and he used to spunge upon the folk;\" after which\nhe threw that head into the river. As for me, I was like a dead\nman for dread; but he said to me, \"Fear not, neither do thou\ngrieve, for I acquit thee of my brother's blood.\" Presently, he\ntook my clothes and washed them and dried them and put them on\nme; after which he said to me, \"Get thee gone to thy house.\" So I\nreturned to my house and he accompanied me, till I came thither,\nwhen he said to me, \"Allah never desolate thee! I am thy friend\nSuch-an-one, who used to take of thee goods on credit, and I owe\nthee a kindness; but henceforward thou wilt never see me more.\"\nThen he went his ways. The company marvelled at the manliness of\nthis man and his clemency[FN#121] and courtesy, and the Sultan\nsaid, \"Tell us another of thy stories, O Shahrazad.\"[FN#122] She\nreplied, \" 'Tis well! They set forth[FN#123]\n\n\n\n\nA Merry Jest of a Clever Thief.\n\n\n\nA thief of the thieves of the Arabs went one night to a certain\nman's house, to steal from a heap of wheat there, and the people\nof the house surprised him. Now on the heap was a great copper\ntasse, and the thief buried himself in the corn and covered his\nhead with the tasse, so that the folk found him not and went\ntheir ways; but, as they were going, behold, there came a mighty\ngreat fart[FN#124] forth of the corn. So they went up to the\ntasse and raising it, discovered the thief and laid hands on him.\nQuoth he, \"I have saved you the trouble of seeking me: for I\npurposed, in breaking wind, to direct you to my hiding-place;\nwherefore do you be easy with me and have ruth on me, so may\nAllah have ruth on you!\" Accordingly they let him go and harmed\nhim not. \"And for another story of the same kind\" (she\ncontinued), \"hearken to\n\n\n\n\nThe Tale of the Old Sharper.\n\n\n\nThere was once an old man renowned for clever roguery, and he\nwent, he and his mates, to one of the markets and stole thence a\nquantity of stuffs: then they separated and returned each to his\nquarter. Awhile after this, the old man assembled a company of\nhis fellows and, as they sat at drink, one of them pulled out a\ncostly piece of cloth and said, \"Is there any one of you will\ndare sell this in its own market whence it was stolen, that we\nmay confess his superior subtlety?\" Quoth the old man, \"I will;\"\nand they said, \"Go, and Allah Almighty open to thee the door!\" So\nearly on the morrow, he took the stuff and carrying it to the\nmarket whence it had been stolen, sat down at the very shop out\nof which it had been purloined and gave it to the broker, who\nhent it in hand and cried it for sale. Its owner knew it and\nbidding for it, bought it and sent after the Chief of Police, who\nseized the Sharper and seeing him an old man of grave presence\nand handsomely clad said to him, \"Whence hadst thou this piece of\nstuff?\" Quoth he, \"I had it from this market and from yonder shop\nwhere I was sitting.\" Quoth the Wali, \"Did its owner sell it to\nthee?\" and quoth the robber, \"Not so; I stole it, this and other\nthan it.\" Then said the Chief, \"How camest thou to bring it for\nsale to the place whence thou stolest it?\" \"I will not tell my\ntale save to the Sultan, for that I have a profitable counsel\nwherewith I would lief bespeak him.\" \"Name it!\" \"Art thou the\nSultan?\" \"No!\" \"I'll not tell it save to himself.\" Accordingly\nthe Wali carried him up to the Sultan and he said, \"I have a\ncounsel for thee, O my lord.\" Asked the Sultan, \"What is thy\ncounsel?\" And the thief said, \"I repent and will deliver into thy\nhand all who are evildoers, and whomsoever I bring not, I will\nstand in his stead.\" Cried the Sultan, \"Give him a robe of honour\nand accept his profession of penitence.\" So he went down from the\npresence and returning to his comrades, related to them that\nwhich had passed, when they confessed his subtlety and gave him\nthat which they had promised him. Then he took the rest of the\nbooty and went up therewith to the Sultan, who, seeing him,\nrecognised him and he was magnified in the royal eyes and the\nking commanded that naught should be taken from him. After this,\nwhen he went down, the Sultan's attention was diverted from him,\nlittle by little, till the case was forgotten, and so he saved\nthe booty for himself. Those present marvelled at this and the\nfifteenth constable came forward and said, \"Know that among those\nwho make a trade of trickery are those whom Allah Almighty taketh\non their own testimony against themselves.\" It was asked him,\n\"How so?\" and he began to relate\n\n\n\n\nThe Fifteenth Constable's History.[FN#125]\n\n\n\nIt is told of a thieving person, one of the braves, that he used\nto rob and cut the way by himself upon caravans, and whenever the\nChief of Police and the Governors sought him, he would flee from\nthem and fortify himself in the mountains. Now it came to pass\nthat a certain man journeyed along the road wherein was that\nrobber, and this man was single-handed and knew not the sore\nperils besetting his way. So the highwayman came out upon him and\nsaid to him, \"Bring out that which is with thee, for I mean to\nkill thee and no mistake.\" Quoth the traveller, \"Kill me not,\nbut annex these saddle-bags and divide that which is in them and\ntake to thee the fourth part.\" And the thief answered, \"I will\nnot take aught but the whole.\"[FN#126] Rejoined the traveller,\n\"Take half, and let me go;\" but the robber replied, \"I will have\nnaught but the whole, and eke I will kill thee.\" So the wayfarer\nsaid, \"Take it.\" Accordingly the highwayman took the saddle-bags\nand offered to slay the traveller, who said, \"What is this? Thou\nhast against me no blood-feud that should make my slaughter\nincumbent.\" Quoth the other, \"Needs must I kill thee;\" whereupon\nthe traveller dismounted from his horse and grovelled before him,\nbeseeching the thief and bespeaking him fair. The man hearkened\nnot to his prayers, but cast him to the ground; whereupon the\ntraveller raised his eyes and seeing a francolin flying over him,\nsaid, in his agony, \"O Francolin,[FN#127] bear testimony that\nthis man slayeth me unjustly and wickedly; for indeed I have\ngiven him all that was with me and entreated him to let me go,\nfor my children's sake; yet would he not consent. But be thou\nwitness against him, for Allah is not unmindful of deeds which\nthe oppressors do.\" The highwayman paid no heed to what he heard,\nbut smote him and cut off his head. After this, the rulers\ncompounded with the highwayman for his submission, and when he\ncame before them, they enriched him and he became in such favour\nwith the lieutenant of the Sultan that he used to eat and drink\nwith him and there befel between them familiar converse which\nlasted a long while till in fine there chanced a curious chance.\nThe lieutenant of the Sultan one day of the days made a banquet,\nand therein was a roasted francolin, which when the robber saw,\nhe laughed a loud laugh. The lieutenant was angered against him\nand said to him, \"What is the meaning of thy laughter? Seest thou\nany fault or dost thou mock at us, of thy lack of good manners?\"\nAnswered the highwayman, \"Not so, by Allah, O my lord; but I saw\nyonder francolin, which brought to my mind an extraordinary\nthing; and 'twas on this wise. In the days of my youth, I used to\ncut the way, and one day I waylaid a man, who had with him a pair\nof saddle-bags and money therein. So I said to him, 'Leave these\nsaddle-bags, for I mean to slay thee.' Quoth he, 'Take the fourth\npart of that which is in them and leave me the rest;' and quoth\nI, 'Needs must I take the whole and kill thee without mistake.'\nThen said he, 'Take the saddle bags and let me wend my way;' but\nI answered, 'There is no help but that I slay thee.' As we were\nin this contention, behold, he saw a francolin and turning to it,\nsaid, 'Bear testimony against him, O Francolin, that he slayeth\nme unjustly and letteth me not go to my children, for all he hath\ntaken my money.' However, I had no pity on him neither hearkened\nto that which he said, but smote him and slew him and concerned\nnot myself with the evidence of the francolin.\" His story\ntroubled the lieutenant of the Sultan and he was enraged against\nhim with sore rage; so he drew his sword and smiting him, cut off\nhis head while he sat at table; whereupon a voice recited these\ncouplets--\n\n\"An wouldst not be injur\ufffdd, injure not; * But do good and from\n     Allah win goodly lot,\nFor what happeth by Allah is doomed to be * Yet thine acts are\n     the root I would have thee wot.\"[FN#128]\n\nNow this voice was the francolin which bore witness against him.\nThe company present marvelled at this tale and all cried, \"Woe to\nthe oppressor!\" Then came forward the sixteenth constable and\nsaid, \"And I for another will tell you a marvellous story which\nis on this wise.\"\n\n\n\n\nThe Sixteenth Constable's History.\n\n\n\nI went forth one day of the days, intending to travel, and\nsuddenly fell upon a man whose wont it was to cut the way. When\nhe came up with me he offered to slay me and I said to him, \"I\nhave naught with me whereby thou mayst profit.\" Quoth he, \"My\nprofit shall be the taking of thy life.\" I asked, \"What is the\ncause of this? Hath there been enmity between us aforetime?\" and\nhe answered, \"Nay; but needs must I slay thee.\" Thereupon I ran\naway from him to the river side; but he caught me up and casting\nme to the ground, sat down on my breast. So I sought help of the\nShaykh of the Pilgrims[FN#129] and cried to him, \"Protect me from\nthis oppressor!\" And indeed he had drawn a knife to cut my throat\nwhen, lo and behold! there came a mighty great crocodile forth of\nthe river and snatching him up from off my breast plunged into\nthe water, with him still hending knife in hand, even within the\njaws of the beast: whilst I abode extolling Almighty Allah, and\nrendering thanks for my preservation to him who had delivered me\nfrom the hand of that wrong-doer.[FN#130]\n\n\n\n\n            TALE OF HARUN AL-RASHID AND ABDULLAH BIN\n                         NAFI'.[FN#131]\n\n\n\nKnow thou, O King of the Age, that there was in days of yore and\nin ages and times long gone before, in the city of Baghdad, the\nAbode of Peace, a Caliph Harun al-Rashid hight, and he had cup-\ncompanions and tale-tellers to entertain him by night. Among his\nequerries was a man named Abdullah bin N\ufffdfi', who stood high in\nfavour with him and dear to him, so that he did not forget him a\nsingle hour. Now it came to pass, by the decree of Destiny, that\nit became manifest to Abdullah how he was grown of small account\nwith the Caliph, who paid no heed unto him nor, if he absented\nhimself, did he ask after him, as had been his habit. This was\ngrievous to Abdullah and he said within himself, \"Verily, the\nsoul of the Commander of the Faithful and his Wazir are changed\ntowards me and nevermore shall I see in him that cordiality and\naffection wherewith he was wont to treat me.\" And this was\nchagrin-full to him and concern grew upon him, so that he recited\nthese couplets:--\n\n\"Whoso's contemned in his home and land * Should, to better his\n     case, in self-exile hie:\nSo fly the house where contempt awaits, * Nor on fires of grief\n     for the parting fry;\nCrude Ambergris[FN#132] is but offal where * 'Tis born; but\n     abroad on our necks shall stye;\nAnd Kohl at home is a kind of stone, * Cast on face of earth and\n     on roads to lie;\nBut when borne abroad it wins highest worth * And thrones between\n     eyelid and ball of eye.\"\n\n(Quoth the sayer,) Then he could brook this matter no longer; so\nhe went forth from the dominions of the Prince of True Believers,\nunder presence of visiting certain of his kith and kin, and took\nwith him nor servant nor comrade, neither acquainted any with his\nintent, but betook himself to the road and fared deep into the\nwold and the sandwastes, unknowing whither he went. After awhile,\nhe unexpectedly fell in with travellers who were making the land\nof Hind and journeyed with them. When he came thither, he lighted\ndown in a city of that country and housed him in one of the\nlodging-houses; and there he abode a while of days, relishing not\nfood neither solacing himself with sleep; nor was this for lack\nof dirhams or dinars, but for that his mind was occupied with\nmusing upon the shifts of Destiny and bemoaning himself for that\nthe revolving sphere had turned against him in enmity, and the\ndays had decreed unto him the disfavour of our lord the\nImam.[FN#133] After such fashion he abode a space of days, and\npresently he homed him in the land and took to himself friends\nand got him many familiars, with whom he addressed himself to\ndiversion and good cheer. He used also to go a-pleasuring with\nhis companions and their hearts were solaced by his company and\nhe entertained them every evening with stories and displays of\nhis manifold accomplishments[FN#134] and diverted them with\ndelectable verses and told them abundance of stories and\nhistories. Presently, the report of him reached King Jamh\ufffdr, lord\nof Kashgar of Hind, who sent in quest of him, and great was his\ndesire to see him. So Abdullah repaired to his court and going in\nto him, kissed ground before him; and Jamhur welcomed him and\ntreated him with kindness and bade lodge him in the guest-house,\nwhere he abode three days, at the end of which the king sent to\nhim a chamberlain of his chamberlains and bade bring him to the\npresence. When he came before him, he greeted him, and the\ntruchman accosted him, saying, \"Verily, King Jamhur hath heard of\nthy report, that thou art a pleasant cup-companion and an\neloquent teller of night-tales, and he would have thee company\nwith him o' nights and entertain him with that which thou knowest\nof histories and pleasant stories and verses.\" And he made\nanswer, ' To hear is to obey!\" (Quoth Abdullah bin Nafi',) So I\nbecame his boon-companion and entertained him by night with tales\nand talk; and this pleased him with the utmost pleasure and he\ntook me into favour and bestowed on me robes of honour and set\napart for me a lodging; indeed he was bountiful exceedingly to me\nand could not brook to be parted from me a single hour. So I\nsojourned with him a while of time and every night I caroused and\nconversed with him till the most part of the dark hours was past;\nand when drowsiness overcame him, he would rise and betake\nhimself to his sleeping-place, saying to me, 'Forsake not my\nservice and forego not my presence.' And I made answer with\n'Hearing and obeying.' Now the king had a son, a nice child,\ncalled the Emir Mohammed, who was winsome of youth and sweet of\nspeech: he had read books and had perused histories and he loved\nabove all things in the world the telling and hearing of verses\nand tales and anecdotes. He was dear to his father King Jamhur,\nfor that he owned no other son than he on life, and indeed he had\nreared him in the lap of love and he was gifted with exceeding\nbeauty and loveliness, brilliancy and perfect grace: he had also\nlearnt to play upon the lute and upon all manner instruments and\nhe was used to converse and company with friends and brethren.\nNow it was his wont when the king arose seeking his\nsleeping-chamber, to sit in his place and require me to entertain\nhim with tales and verses and pleasant anecdotes; and on this\nwise I abode with them both a great while in all joyance and\ndelight, and the Prince still loved me with mighty great love and\ntreated me with the utmost tenderness. It fortuned one day that\nthe king's son came to me, after his sire had withdrawn, and\ncried, 'O Ibn Nafi'!' 'At thy service, O my lord;' 'I would have\nthee tell me a wondrous story and a marvellous matter, which thou\nhast never related either to me or to my father Jamhur.' 'O my\nlord, what story is this that thou desirest of me and of what kind\nshall it be of the kinds?' 'It mattereth little, so it be a\ngoodly story, whether it befel of olden tide or in these times.'\n'O my lord, I know by rote many stories of various kinds; so\nwhich of the kinds preferrest thou, and wilt thou have a story of\nmankind or of Jinn kind?' ' 'Tis well! An thou have espied aught\nwith thine eyes and heard it with thine ears, tell it me.' Then\nhe bethought himself and said to me, 'I conjure thee by my life,\ntell me a tale of the tales of the Jinn and that which thou hast\nheard of them and seen of them!' I replied, 'O my son, indeed\nthou conjurest me by a mighty conjuration; so lend an ear to the\ngoodliest of stories, ay, and the strangest of them and the\npleasantest and rarest.' Quoth the Prince, 'Say on, for I am\nattentive to thy speech;' and quoth I, 'Hear then, O my son,\n\n\n\n\nThe Tale of the Damsel Tohfat al-Kulub and the Caliph Harun al-\nRashid.\n\n\n\nThe Viceregent of the Lord of the three Worlds, Harun al-Rashid,\nhad a boon-companion of the number of his boon-companions, by\nname Ishak bin Ibrahim al-Nadim al-Mausili,[FN#135] who was the\nmost accomplished of the folk of his time in smiting upon the\nlute; and of the Commander of the Faithful's love for him, he set\napart for him a palace of the choicest of his palaces, wherein he\nwas wont to instruct hand-maidens in the arts of singing and of\nlute playing. If any slave-girl became, by his instruction,\nclever in the craft, he carried her before the Caliph, who bade\nher perform upon the lute; and if she pleased him, he would order\nher to the Harim; else would he restore her to Ishak's palace.\nOne day, the Commander of the Faithful's breast was straitened;\nso he sent after his Wazir Ja'afar the Barmecide and Ishak the\ncup-companion and Masrur the eunuch, the Sworder of his\nvengeance; and when they came, he changed his habit and disguised\nhimself, whilst Ja'afar and Ishak and Masrur and Al-Fazl[FN#136]\nand Y\ufffdnus[FN#137] (who were also present) did the like. Then he\nwent out, he and they, by the postern, to the Tigris and taking\nboat fared on till they came to near Al-T\ufffdf,[FN#138] when they\nlanded and walked till they came to the gate of the high street.\nHere there met them an old man, handsome in his hoariness and of\na venerable bearing and a dignified, agreeable of aspect and\napparel. He kissed the earth before Ishak al-Mausili (for that he\nknew only him of the company, the Caliph being disguised, and\ndeemed the others certain of his friends), and said to him, \"O my\nlord, there is presently with me a hand-maid, a lutanist, never\nsaw eyes the like of her nor the like of her grace, and indeed I\nwas on my way to pay my respects to thee and give thee to know of\nher, but Allah, of His favour, hath spared me the trouble. So now\nI desire to show her to thee, and if she take thy fancy, well and\ngood; otherwise I will sell her.\" Quoth Ishak, \"Go before me to\nthy quarters,[FN#139] till I come to thee and see her.\" The old\nman kissed his hand and went away; whereupon quoth Al-Rashid to\nhim, \"O Ishak, who is yonder man and what is his want?\" The other\nreplied, \"O my lord, this is a man Sa'\ufffdd the Slave-dealer hight,\nand 'tis he that buyeth us maidens and Mamelukes. He declareth\nthat with him is a fair slave, a lutanist, whom he hath withheld\nfrom sale, for that he could not fairly sell her till he had\npassed her before me in review.\" Quoth the Caliph, \"Let us go to\nhim so we may see her, by way of solace, and sight what is in the\nslave-dealer's quarters of slave-girls;\" and quoth Ishak,\n\"Command belongeth to Allah and to the Commander of the Faithful.\"\nThen he forewent them and they followed in his track till they\ncame to the slave-dealer's quarters and found a building tall of\nwall and large of lodgment, with sleeping-cells and chambers\ntherein, after the number of the slave-girls, and folk sitting\nupon the wooden benches. So Ishak entered, he and his company and\nseating themselves in the place of honour, amused themselves by\nlooking at the hand-maids and Mamelukes and watching how they\nwere bought and sold, till the vending came to an end, when some\nof the folk went away and some remained seated. Then cried the\nslave-dealer, \"Let none sit with us except whoso purchaseth by\nthe thousand dinars and upwards.\" Accordingly those present\nwithdrew and there remained none but Al-Rashid and his suite;\nwhereupon the slave-dealer called the damsel, after he had caused\nset her a chair of Faww\ufffdk,[FN#140] lined with Grecian brocade,\nand she was like the sun shining high in the shimmering sky. When\nshe entered, she saluted and sitting down, took the lute and\nsmote upon it, after she had touched its strings and tuned it, so\nthat all present were amazed. Then she sang thereto these\ncouplets:\n\n\"Breeze o' Morn, an thou breathe o'er the loved one's land, *\n     Deliver my greeting to all the dear band!\nAnd declare to them still I am pledged to their love * And my\n     longing excels all that lover unmanned:\nO ye who have blighted my heart, ears and eyes, * My passion and\n     ecstasy grow out of hand;\nAnd torn is my sprite every night with desire, * And nothing of\n     sleep can my eyelids command.\"\n\nIshak exclaimed, \"Brava, O damsel! By Allah, this is a fair\nhour!\" Whereupon she sprang up and kissed his hand, saying, 'O my\nlord, in very sooth the hands stand still before thy presence and\nthe tongues at thy sight, and the loquent when confronting thee\nwax dumb; but thou art the looser of the veil.\"[FN#141] Then she\nclung to him and cried, \"Stand;\" so he stood and said to her,\n\"Who art thou and what is thy need?\" She raised a corner of the\nveil, and behold she was a damsel as she were the full moon\nrising or the levee glancing, with two side-locks of hair which\nfell down to her anklets. She kissed his hand and said to him, \"O\nmy lord, know that I have been in these quarters some five\nmonths, during which I have withheld myself from sale till thou\nshouldst be present and see me; and yonder slave-dealer also made\nthy coming a pretext for not vending me, and forbade me for all I\nsought of him night and day that he should cause thee come hither\nand vouchsafe me thy company and gar me and thee forgather.\"\nQuoth Ishak, \"Tell me what thou wouldst have;\" and quoth she, \"I\nbeseech thee, by Allah Almighty, that thou buy me, so I may be\nwith thee by way of service.\" He asked, \"Is that thy desire?\" and\nshe answered, \"Yes.\" So Ishak returned to the slave-dealer and\nsaid to him, \"Ho thou, Shaykh Sa'\ufffdd!\" Said the old man, \"At thy\nservice, O my lord,\" and Ishak continued, \"In the corridor is a\nchamber and therein wones a damsel pale and wan. What is her\nprice in dirhams and how much dost thou ask for her?\" Quoth the\nslave-dealer, \"She whom thou mentionest, O my lord, is called\nTohfat al-Humak\ufffd?\"[FN#142] Ishak asked, \"What is the meaning of\nAl-Humaka?\" and the old man answered, \"Her price hath been\nweighed and paid an hundred times and she still saith, Show me\nhim who would buy me; and when I show her to him she saith, This\none I mislike; he hath in him such and such a default. And in\nevery one who would fain buy her she noteth some defect or other,\nso that none careth now to purchase her and none seeketh her, for\nfear lest she find some fault in him.\" Quoth Ishak, \"She seeketh\nat this present to sell herself; so go thou to her and inquire of\nher and see her price and send her to the palace.\" Quoth Sa'id,\n\"O my lord, her price is an hundred dinars, though, were she free\nof this paleness that is upon her face, she would be worth a\nthousand gold pieces; but wanton folly and wanness have\ndiminished her value; and behold I will go to her and consult her\nof this.\" So he betook himself to her and enquired of her, \"Wilt\nthou be sold to Ishak bin Ibrahim al-Mausili?\" She replied,\n\"Yes,\" and he said, \"Leave folly, for to whom doth it happen to\nbe in the house of Ishak the cup-companion?\"[FN#143] Thereupon\nIshak went forth the slave-dealer's quarters and overtook Al-\nRashid who had preceded him; and they ceased not walking till\nthey came to their landing-place, where they embarked in the boat\nand fared on to Thaghr al-Kh\ufffdnakah.[FN#144] As for the slave-\ndealer, he sent the damsel to the house of Ishak al-Nadim, whose\nslave-girls took her and carried her to the Hammam. Then each\ndamsel gave her somewhat of her gear and they decked her with\nearrings and bracelets, so that she redoubled in beauty and\nbecame as she were the moon on the night of its full. When Ishak\nreturned home from the Caliph's palace, Tohfah rose to him and\nkissed his hand; and he saw that which the hand-maids had done\nwith her and thanked them for so doing and said to them, \"Let her\nhome in the house of instruction and bring her instruments of\nmusic, and if she be apt at song teach her; and may Allah\nAlmighty vouchsafe her health and weal!\" So there passed over her\nthree months, while she homed with him in the house of\ninstruction, and they brought her the instruments of music.\nFurthermore, as time went on she was vouchsafed health and\nsoundness and her beauty waxed many times brighter than before\nand her pallor was changed to white and red, so that she became a\nseduction to all who saw her. One day, Ishak bade summon all who\nwere with him of slave-girls from the house of instruction and\ncarried them up to Al-Rashid's palace, leaving none in his house\nsave Tohfah and a cookmaid; for that he thought not of Tohfah,\nnor did she come to his memory, and none of the damsels reminded\nhim of her. When she saw that the house was empty of the slave-\ngirls, she took the lute (now she was singular in her time for\nsmiting upon the lute, nor had she her like in the world, no, not\nIshak himself, nor any other) and sang thereto these couplets:--\n\n\"When soul desireth one that is its mate * It never winneth dear\n     desire of Fate:\nMy life for him whose tortures tare my frame, * And dealt me pine\n     he can alone abate!\nHe saith (that only he to heal mine ill, * Whose sight is\n     medicine to my doleful state),\n'O scoffer-wight, how long wilt mock my woe * As though did Allah\n     nothing else create?' \"\n\nNow Ishak had returned to his house on an occasion that called\nfor him; and when he entered the vestibule, he heard a sound of\nsinging, the like whereof he had never heard in the world, for\nthat it was soft as the breeze and more strengthening than\noil[FN#145] of almonds. So the pleasure of it get hold of him and\ndelight so seized him, that he fell down fainting in the\nvestibule. Tohfah heard the noise of footfalls and laying the\nlute from her hand, went out to see what was the matter. She\nfound her lord Ishak lying aswoon in the entrance; so she took\nhim up and strained him to her bosom, saying, \"I conjure thee in\nAllah's name, O my lord, tell me, hath aught of ill befallen\nthee?\" When he heard her voice, he recovered from his fainting\nand asked her, \"Who art thou?\" She answered, \"I am thy slave-\ngirl Tohfah;\" and he said to her, \"Art thou indeed Tohfah?\"\n\"Yes,\" replied she; and he, \"By Allah, I had indeed forgotten\nthee and remembered thee not till this moment!\" Then he looked at\nher and said, \"Verily, thy case is altered to other case and thy\nwanness is changed to rosiness and thou hast redoubled in beauty\nand loveliness. But was it thou who was singing just now?\" She\nwas troubled and affrighted and answered, \"Even I, O my lord;\"\nwhereupon Ishak seized upon her hand and carrying her into the\nhouse, said to her, \"Take the lute and sing; for never saw I nor\nheard thy like in smiting upon the lute; no, not even myself!\"\nQuoth she, \"O my lord, thou mockest me. Who am I that thou\nshouldst say all this to me? Indeed, this is but of thy\nkindness.\" Quoth he, \"Nay, by Allah, I said but the truth to thee\nand I am not of those on whom pretence imposeth. For these three\nmonths nature hath not moved thee to take the lute and sing\nthereto, and this is naught save a rare thing and a strange. But\nall this cometh of strength in the art and thy self-restraint.\"\nThen he bade her sing; and she said, \"Hearkening and obedience.\"\nSo she took the lute and tightening its strings to the sticking\npoint, smote thereon a number of airs, so that she confounded\nIshak's wit and for delight he was like to fly. Then she returned\nto the first mode and sang thereto these couplets:--\n\n\"By your ruined stead aye I stand and stay, * Nor shall change or\n     dwelling depart us tway!\nNo distance of homestead shall gar me forget * Your love, O\n     friends, but yearn alway:\nNe'er flies your phantom the babes of these eyne * You are moons\n     in Nighttide's murkest array:\nAnd with growing passion mine unrest grows * And each morn I find\n     union dissolved in woes.\"\n\nWhen she had made an end of her song and laid down the lute,\nIshak looked fixedly on her, then took her hand and offered to\nkiss it; but she snatched it from him and said to him, \"Allah, O\nmy lord, do not that!\"[FN#146] Cried he, \"Be silent. By Allah, I\nhad said that there was not in the world the like of me; but now\nI have found my din\ufffdr in the art but a d\ufffdnik,[FN#147] for thou\nart more excellent of skill than I, beyond comparison or\napproximation or calculation! This very day will I carry[FN#148]\nthee up to the Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, and\nwhen his glance lighteth on thee, thou wilt become a Princess of\nwomankind. So Allah, Allah upon thee, O my lady, whenas thou\nbecomest of the household of the Prince of True Believers, do not\nthou forget me!\" She replied, \"Allah, O my lord, thou art the\nroot of my fortunes and in thee is my heart fortified.\" Thereat\nhe took her hand and made a covenant with her of this and she\nswore to him that she would not forget him. Then said he to her,\n\"By Allah, thou art the desire of the Commander of the Faithful!\nNow take the lute and sing a song which thou shalt sing to the\nCaliph, when thou goest in to him.\" So she took the lute and\ntuning it, improvised these couplets:--\n\n\"His lover hath ruth on his woeful mood * And o'erwept him as\n     still by his couch he[FN#149] stood:\nAnd garred him drink of his lip-dews and wine[FN#150] * Ere he\n     died and this food was his latest good.\"\n\nIshak stared at her and seizing her hand, said to her, \"Know that\nI am bound by an oath that, when the singing of a damsel pleaseth\nme, she shall not end her song but before the Prince of True\nBelievers. But now tell me, how came it that thou tarriedst with\nthe slave-dealer five months and wast not sold to any one, and\nthou of this skill, especially when the price set on thee was no\ngreat matter?\" Hereat she laughed and answered, \"O my lord, my\nstory is a wondrous and my case a marvellous. Know that I belonged\naforetime to a Maghribi merchant,who bought me when I was three\nyears old, and there were in his house many slave-girls and\neunuchs; but I was the dearest to him of them all. So he kept me\nwith him and used not to address me otherwise than, 'O\ndaughterling,' and indeed to this moment I am a clean maid. Now\nthere was with him a damsel, a lutanist, and she reared me and\ntaught me the art, even as thou seest. Then was my master removed\nto the mercy of Allah Almighty[FN#151] and his sons divided his\nmonies. I fell to the lot of one of them; but 'twas only a little\nwhile ere he had wasted all his wealth and there was left him\nnaught of coin. So I gave up the lute, fearing lest I should fall\ninto the hand of a man who knew not my worth, for well I wot that\nneeds must my master sell me; and indeed but a few days passed\nere he carried me forth to the quarters of the slave-merchant who\nbuyeth damsels and displayeth them to the Commander of the\nFaithful. Now I desired to learn the art and mystery; so I\nrefused to be sold to other than thou, until Allah (extolled and\nexalted be He!) vouchsafed me my desire of thy presence;\nwhereupon I came out to thee, as soon as I heard of thy coming,\nand besought thee to buy me. Thou heartenedst my heart and\nboughtest me; and since I entered thy house, O my lord, I have\nnot taken up the lute till now; but to-day, when I was left\nprivate by the slave-girls, I took it; and my purpose in this was\nthat I might see if my hand were changed[FN#152] or not. As I was\nsinging, I heard a footfall in the vestibule; so springing up, I\nlaid the lute from my hand and going forth to see what was to do,\nfound thee, O my lord, after this fashion.\" Quoth Ishak, \"Indeed,\nthis was of thy fair fortune. By Allah, I know not that which\nthou knowest in this art!\" Then he arose and opening a chest,\nbrought out therefrom striped clothes,[FN#153] netted with jewels\nand great pearls and other costly gems and said to her, \"In the\nname of Allah, don these, O my lady Tohfah.\" So she arose and\ndonned that dress and veiled herself and went up with Ishak to\nthe palace of the Caliphate, where he made her stand without,\nwhilst he himself went in to the Prince of True Believers (with\nwhom was Ja'afar the Barmaki) and kissing the ground before him,\nsaid to him, \"O Commander of the Faithful, I have brought thee a\ndamsel, never saw eyes of seer her like for excellence in singing\nand touching the lute; and her name is Tohfah.\" Al-Rashid asked,\n\"And where be this Tohfah[FN#154] who hath not her like in the\nworld?\" Answered Ishak, \"Yonder she standeth, O Commander of the\nFaithful ;\" and he acquainted the Caliph with her case from first\nto last. Then said Al-Rashid, \" 'Tis a marvel to hear thee praise\na slave-girl after this fashion. Admit her that we may look upon\nher, for verily the morning may not be hidden.\" Accordingly,\nIshak bade admit her; so she entered, and when her eyes fell upon\nthe Prince of True Believers, she kissed ground before him and\nsaid, \"The Peace be upon thee, O Commander of the faithful Fold\nand Asylum of all who the true Creed hold and Quickener of\njustice in the Worlds threefold! Allah make thy feet tread on\nsafest wise and give thee joy of what He gave thee in generous\nguise and make thy harbourage Paradise and Hell-fire that of\nthine enemies!\" Quoth Al-Rashid, \"And on thee be the Peace, O\ndamsel! Sit.\" So she sat down and he bade her sing; whereupon she\ntook the lute and tightening its strings, played thereon in many\nmodes, so that the Prince of True Believers and Ja'afar were\nconfounded in sprite and like to fly for delight. Then she\nreturned to the first mode and improvised these couplets:--\n\n\"O mine eyes! I swear by him I adore, * Whom pilgrims seek\n     thronging Araf\ufffdt;\nAn thou call my name on the grave of me, * I'll reply to thy call\n     tho' my bones go rot:\nI crave none for friend of my heart save thee; * So believe me,\n     for true are the well-begot.\"\n\nAl-Rashid considered her comeliness and the goodliness of her\nsinging and her eloquence and what other qualities she comprised\nand rejoiced with joy exceeding; and for the stress of that which\novercame him of delight, he descended from the couch and sitting\ndown with her upon the floor, said to her, \"Thou hast done well,\nO Tohfah. By Allah, thou art indeed a choice gift!\"[FN#155] Then\nhe turned to Ishak and said to him, \"Thou dealtest not justly, O\nIshak, in the description of this damsel, nor didst thou fairly\nset forth all that she comprised of charms and art; for that, by\nAllah, she is inconceivably more skilful than thou; and I know of\nthis craft that which none knoweth save I!\" Exclaimed the Wazir\nJa'afar, \"By Allah, thou sayst sooth, O my lord, O Commander of\nthe Faithful. Indeed, she hath done away my wit, hath this\ndamsel.\" Quoth Ishak, \"By Allah, O Prince of True Believers, I\nhad said that there was not on the face of the earth one who knew\nthe art of the lute like myself; but when I heard her, my skill\nbecame nothing worth in mine eyes.\" Then said the Caliph to her,\n\"Repeat thy playing, O Tohfah.\" So she repeated it and he cried\nto her, \"Well done!\" Moreover, he said to Ishak, \"Thou hast\nindeed brought me a marvellous thing, one which is worth in mine\neyes the empire of the world.\" Then he turned to Masrur the\neunuch and said to him, \"Carry Tohfah to the chamber of honour.\"\nAccordingly, she went away with the Castrato and the Caliph\nlooked at her raiment and ornaments and seeing her clad in\nclothing of choice, asked Ishak, \"O Ishak, whence hath she these\nrobes?\" Answered he, \"O my lord, these are somewhat of thy\nbounties and thy largesse, and they are a gift to her from me. By\nAllah, O Commander of the Faithful, the world, all of it, were\nlittle in comparison with her!\" Then the Caliph turned to the\nWazir Ja'afar and said to him, \"Give Ishak fifty thousand dirhams\nand a robe of honour of the choicest apparel.\" \"Hearing and\nobeying,\" replied Ja'afar and gifted him with that which the\nCaliph ordered him. As for Al-Rashid, he was private with Tohfah\nthat night and found her a pure virgin and rejoiced in her; and\nshe took high rank in his heart, so that he could not suffer her\nabsence a single hour and committed to her the keys of the\naffairs of the realm, for that which he saw in her of good\nbreeding and fine wit and leal will. He also gave her fifty\nslave-girls and two hundred thousand dinars and a quantity of\nraiment and ornaments, gems and jewels worth the kingdom of\nEgypt; and of the excess of his love for her, he would not\nentrust her to any of the hand-maids or eunuchs; but, whenever he\nwent out from her, he locked the door upon her and took the key\nwith him, against he should return to her, forbidding the damsels\nto go in to her, of his fear lest they should slay her or poison\nher or practice on her with the knife; and in this way he abode\nawhile. One day, as she sang before the Commander of the\nFaithful, he was delighted with exceeding delight, so that he\noffered to kiss her hand;[FN#156] but she drew it away from him\nand smote upon her lute and broke it and wept. Al-Rashid wiped\naway her tears and said, \"O desire of the heart, what is it\nmaketh thee weep? May Allah not cause an eye of thine to shed\ntears!\" Said she, \"O my lord, what am I that thou shouldst kiss\nmy hand? Wilt thou have Allah punish me for this and my term come\nto an end and my felicity pass away? For this is what none ever\nattained unto.\" He rejoined, \"Well said, O Tohfah. Know that thy\nrank in my esteem is high and for that which delighted me of what\nI saw in thee, I offered to do this, but I will not return unto\nthe like thereof; so be of good cheer, with eyes cool and clear,\nfor I have no desire to other than thyself and will not die but\nin the love of thee, and thou to me art queen this day, to the\nexclusion of al! humankind.\" Therewith she fell to kissing his\nfeet; and this her fashion pleased him, so that his love for her\nredoubled and he became unable to brook severance from her a\nsingle hour. Now Al-Rashid one day went forth to the chase and\nleft Tohfah in her pavilion. As she sat perusing a book, with a\ncandle-branch of gold before her, wherein was a perfumed candle,\nbehold, a musk-apple fell down before her from the top of the\nsaloon.[FN#157] So she looked up and beheld the Lady Zubaydah\nbint al-Kasim,[FN#158] who saluted her with a salam and\nacquainted her with herself, whereupon Tohfah sprang to her feet\nand said, \"O my lady, were I not of the number of the\nnew,[FN#159] I had daily sought thy service; so do not thou\nbereave me of those noble steps.\"[FN#160] The Lady Zubaydah\ncalled down blessings upon her and replied, \"I knew this of thee;\nand, by the life of the Commander of the Faithful, but that it is\nnot of my wont to go forth of my place, I had come out to do my\nservice to thee.\" Then quoth she to her, \"Know, O Tohfah, that\nthe Commander of the Faithful hath deserted all his concubines\nand favourites on thine account, even myself hath he abandoned on\nthis wise, and I am not content to be as one of the mistresses;\nyet hath he made me of them and forsaken me, and I have sought\nthee, so thou mayst beseech him to come to me, though it be but\nonce a month, in order that I may not be the like of the hand-\nmaids and concubines nor take rank with the slave-girls; and this\nis my need of thee.\" Answered Tohfah, \"Hearkening and obedience!\nBy Allah, O my lady, I would that he might be with thee a whole\nmonth and with me but one night, so thy heart might be heartened,\nfor that I am one of thy hand-maids and thou in every case art my\nlady.\" The Princess Zubaydah thanked her for this and taking\nleave of her, returned to her palace. When the Caliph came back\nfrom the chase and course, he betook himself to Tohfah's pavilion\nand bringing out the key, opened the lock and went in to her. She\nrose to receive him and kissed his hand, and he gathered her to\nhis breast and seated her on his knee.[FN#161] Then food was\nbrought to them and they ate and washed their hands; after which\nshe took the lute and sang, till Al-Rashid was moved to sleep.\nWhen aware of this, she ceased singing and told him her adventure\nwith the Lady Zubaydah, saying, \"O Prince of True Believers, I\nwould have thee favour me with a favour and hearten my heart and\naccept my intercession and reject not my supplication, but fare\nthee forthright to the Lady Zubaydah.\" Now this talk befel after\nhe had stripped himself naked and she also had doffed her dress;\nand he said, \"Thou shouldst have named this ere we stripped\nourselves naked, I and thou!\" But she answered, saying, \"O\nCommander of the Faithful, I did this not except in accordance\nwith the saying of the poet in these couplets,\n\n\"Of all intercessions can none succeed, * Save whatso Tohfah bint\n     Marj\ufffdn sue'd:\nNo intercessor who comes enveiled;[FN#162] * She sues the best\n     who sues mother-nude.\"\n\nWhen Al-Rashid heard this, her speech pleased him and he strained\nher to his bosom. Then he went forth from her and locked the door\nupon her, as before; whereupon she took the book and sat perusing\nit awhile. Presently, she set it aside and taking the lute,\ntightened its strings; and smote thereon, after a wondrous\nfashion, such as would have moved inanimate things to dance, and\nfell to singing marvellous melodies and chanting these couplets:--\n\n\"Cease for change to wail,* The world blames who rail;\nBear patient its shafts  * That for aye prevail.\nHow often a joy          * Grief-garbed thou shalt hail:\nHow oft gladding bliss   * Shall appear amid bale!\"\n\nThen she turned and saw within the chamber an old man, handsome\nin his hoariness and stately of semblance, who was dancing in\ngoodly and winning wise, a dance whose like none might dance. So\nshe sought refuge with Allah Almighty from Satan the Stoned and\nsaid, \"I will not give over what I am about, for whatso the Lord\nwilleth, He fulfilleth.\" Accordingly, she went on singing till\nthe Shaykh came up to her and kissed ground before her, saying,\n\"Well done, O Highmost of the East and the West! May the world be\nnot bereaved of thee! By Allah, indeed thou art perfect of\nmanners and morals, O Tohfat al-Sud\ufffdr![FN#163] Dost thou know\nme?\" Cried she, \"Nay, by Allah, but methinks thou art of the\nJann.\" Quoth he, \"Thou sayst sooth; I am Ab\ufffd al-Taw\ufffdif[FN#164]\nIblis, and I come to thee every night, and with me thy sister\nKamariyah, for that she loveth thee and sweareth not but by thy\nlife; and her pastime is not pleasant to her, except she come to\nthee and see thee whilst thou seest her not. As for me, I\napproach thee upon an affair, whereby thou shalt gain and rise to\nhigh rank with the kings of the Jann and rule them, even as thou\nrulest mankind; and to that end I would have thee come with me\nand be present at the festival of my daughter's wedding and the\ncircumcision of my son;[FN#165] for that the Jann are agreed upon\nthe manifestation of thy command. And she answered, \"Bismillah;\nin the name of the Lord.\"[FN#166] So she gave him the lute and he\nforewent her, till he came to the Chapel of Ease,[FN#167] and\nbehold, therein was a door and a stairway. When Tohfah saw this,\nher reason fled; but Iblis cheered her with chat. Then he\ndescended the steps and she followed him to the bottom of the\nstair, where she found a passage and they fared on therein, till\nthey came to a horse standing, ready saddled and bridled and\naccoutred. Quoth Iblis, \"Bismillah, O my lady Tohfah;\" and he\nheld the stirrup for her. So she mounted and the horse heaved\nlike a wave under her and putting forth wings soared upwards with\nher, while the Shaykh flew by her side; whereat she was\naffrighted and clung to the pommel of the saddle;[FN#168] nor was\nit but an hour ere they came to a fair green meadow, fresh-\nflowered as if the soil thereof were a fine robe, purfled with\nall manner bright hues. Amiddlemost that mead was a palace\ntowering high in air, with crenelles of red gold, set with pearls\nand gems, and a two-leaved door; and about the gateway were much\npeople of the chiefs of the Jann, clad in costliest clothing.\nWhen they saw the Shaykh, they all cried out, saying, \"The Lady\nTohfah is come!\" And as soon as she reached the palace-gate, they\npressed forward in a body, and dismounting her from the horse's\nback, carried her into the palace and fell to kissing her hands.\nWhen she entered, she beheld a palace whereof seers ne'er saw the\nlike; for therein were four halls, one facing other, and its\nwalls were of gold and its ceilings of silver. It was high-\nbuilded of base, wide of space, and those who descried it would\nbe posed to describe it. At the upper end of the hall stood a\nthrone of red gold set with pearls and jewels, up to which led\nfive steps of silver, and on its right and on its left were many\nchairs of gold and silver. Quoth Tohfah, \"The Shaykh led me to\nthe estrade and seated me on a chair of gold beside the throne,\nand over the dais was a curtain let down, gold and silver wrought\nand broidered with pearls and jewels.\" And she was amazed at that\nwhich she beheld in that place and magnified her Lord (extolled\nand exalted be He!) and hallowed Him. Then the kings of the Jann\ncame up to that throne and seated themselves thereon; and they\nwere in the semblance of Adam's sons, excepting two of them, who\nappeared in the form and aspect of the Jann, each with one eye\nslit endlong and jutting horns and projecting tusks.[FN#169]\nAfter this there came up a young lady, fair of favour and seemly\nof stature, the light of whose face outshone that of the waxen\nflambeaux; and about her were other three women, than whom none\nfairer abode on face of earth. They saluted Tohfah with the salam\nand she rose to them and kissed ground before them whereupon they\nembraced her after returning her greeting[FN#170] and sat down on\nthe chairs aforesaid. Now the four women who thus accosted Tohfah\nwere the Princess Kamariyah, daughter of King Al-Sh\ufffdsb\ufffdn, and her\nsisters; and Kamariyah loved Tohfah with exceeding love. So, when\nshe came up to her, she fell to kissing and embracing her, and\nShaykh Iblis cried, \"Fair befal the accolade! Take me between\nyou.\" At this Tohfah laughed and Kamariyah said, \"O my sister, I\nlove thee, and doubtless hearts have their witnesses,[FN#171]\nfor, since I saw thee, I have loved thee.\" Replied Tohfah, \"By\nAllah, hearts have sea-like deeps, and thou, by Allah, art dear\nto me and I am thy hand-maid.\" Kamariyah thanked her for this and\nkissing her once more said, \"These be the wives of the kings of\nthe Jann: greet them with the salam! This is Queen\nJamrah,[FN#172] that is Queen Wakh\ufffdmah and this other is Queen\nShar\ufffdrah, and they come not but for thee.\" So Tohfah rose to her\nfeet and bussed their hands, and the three queens kissed her and\nwelcomed her and honoured her with the utmost honour. Then they\nbrought trays and tables and amongst the rest a platter of red\ngold, inlaid with pearls and gems; its raised rims were of or and\nemerald, and thereon were graven[FN#173] these couplets:--\n\nTo bear provaunt assigned,    * By hands noble designed,\nFor the gen'rous I'm made     * Not for niggardly hind!\nSo eat safe all I hold        * And praise God of mankind.\n\nAfter reading the verses they ate and Tohfah looked at the two\nkings who had not changed shape and said to Kamariyah, \"O my\nlady, what be this feral and that other like unto him? By Allah,\nmine eye may not suffer the sight of them.\" Kamariyah laughed and\nanswered, \"O my sister, that is my sire Al-Shisban and the other\nis hight Maymun the Sworder; and of the arrogance of their souls\nand their insolence, they consented not to change their created\nshapes. Indeed, all whom thou seest here are nature-fashioned\nlike them; but on thine account they have changed favour, for\nfear lest thou be disquieted and for the comforting of thy mind,\nso thou mightest become familiar with them and be at thine ease.\"\nQuoth Tohfah, \"O my lady, verily I cannot look at them. How\nfrightful is this Maymun, with his monocular face! Mine eye\ncannot brook the sight of him, and indeed I am in affright of\nhim.\" Kamariyah laughed at her speech, and Tohfah continued, \"By\nAllah, O my lady, I cannot fill my eye with the twain!\"[FN#174]\nThen cried her father Al-Shisban to her, \"What be this laughing?\"\nSo she bespoke him in a tongue none understood but they two and\nacquainted him with that which Tohfah had said; whereat he\nlaughed a prodigious loud laugh, as it were the roaring thunder.\nPresently they ate and the tables were removed and they washed\ntheir hands; after which Iblis the Accursed came up to Tohfah and\nsaid to her, \"O my lady, thou gladdenest the place and\nenlightenest and embellishest it with thy presence; but now fain\nwould these kings hear somewhat of thy singing, for Night hath\ndispread her pinions for departure and there abideth of it but a\nlittle.\" Quoth she, \"Hearing and obeying.\" So she took the lute\nand touching its strings with rare touch, played thereon after\nwondrous wise, so that it seemed to those who were present as if\nthe palace surged like a wave with them for the music. Then she\nbegan singing and chanting these couplets,\n\n\"Folk of my faith and oath, Peace with you be! * Quoth ye not I\n     shall meet you you meet me?\nI'll chide you softerwise than breeze o' morn, * Sweeter than\n     spring of coolest clarity.\nI' faith mine eyelids are with tears chafed sore: * My vitals\n     plain to you some cure to see.\nMy friends! Our union to disunion changed * Was aye my fear for\n     'twas my certainty.\nI'll plain to Allah of all ills I bore; * For pine and yearning\n     misery still I dree.\"\n\nThe kings of the Jann were moved to delight by that sweet singing\nand seemly speech and thanked Tohfah therefore; and Queen\nKamariyah rose to her and threw her arms round her neck and\nkissed her between the eyes, saying, \"By Allah, 'tis good, O my\nsister and coolth of mine eyes and core of my heart!\" Then said\nshe, \"I conjure thee by Allah, give us more of this lovely\nsinging;\" and Tohfah answered with \"To hear is to obey.\" So she\ntook the lute and playing thereon in a mode different from the\nformer fashion, sang these couplets:--\n\n\"I, oft as ever grows the pine of me, * Console my soul with hope\n     thy sight to see.\nHaply shall Allah join our parted lives, * E'en as my fortunes\n     far from thee cast He!\nThen oh! who thrallest me by force of love-- * Seiz\ufffdd by fond\n     affection's mastery\nAll hardships easy wax when thou art nigh; * And all the far\n     draws near when near thou be.\nAh! be the Ruthful light to lover fond, * Love-lorn, frame-     wasted, ready Death to dree!\nWere hope of seeing thee cut off, my loved; * After thine absence\n     sleep mine eyes would flee!\nI mourn no worldly joyance, my delight * Is but to sight thee\n     while thou seest my sight.\"\n\nAt this the accursed Iblis was hugely pleased and thrust his\nfinger up his fundament,[FN#175] whilst Maymun danced and said,\n\"O Tohfat al-Sudur, soften the sound;[FN#176] for, as pleasure\nentereth into my heart, it arresteth my breath and blood.\" So she\ntook the lute and altering the tune, played a third air; then she\nreturned to the first and sang these couplets:--\n\n\"The waves of your[FN#177] love o'er my life have rolled; * I\n     sink while I see you all aid withhold:\nYou have drowned my vitals in deeps of your love, * Nor can heart\n     and sprite for your loss be consoled:\nDeem not I forget my troth after you: * How forget what Allah\n     decreed of old?[FN#178]\nLove clings to the lover who nights in grief, * And 'plains of\n     unrest and of woes ensouled.\n\nThe kings and all those who were present rejoiced in this with\njoy exceeding and the accursed Iblis came up to Tohfah and\nkissing her hand, said to her, \"Verily there abideth but little\nof the night; so tarry with us till the morrow, when we will\napply ourselves to the wedding[FN#179] and the\ncircumcision.\"[FN#180] Then all the Jann went away, whereupon\nTohfah rose to her feet and Iblis said, \"Go ye up with Tohfah to\nthe garden for the rest of the night.\" So Kamariyah took her and\nwent with her into the garden, which contained all manner birds,\nnightingale and mocking-bird and ringdove and curlew[FN#181] and\nother than these of all the kinds. Therein were all manner of\nfruits: its channels[FN#182] were of gold and silver and the\nwater thereof, as it broke forth of its conduits, was like the\nbellies of fleeing serpents, and indeed it was as it were the\nGarden of Eden.[FN#183] When Tohfah beheld this, she called to\nmind her lord and wept sore and said, \"I beseech Allah the Most\nHigh to vouchsafe me speedy deliverance and return to my palace\nand to my high estate and queendom and glory, and reunion with my\nlord and master Al-Rashid.\" Then she walked about that garden and\nsaw in its midst a dome of white marble, raised on columns of\nblack teak whereto hung curtains purfled with pearls and gems.\nAmiddlemost this pavilion was a founfain, inlaid with all kinds\nof jacinths, and thereon a golden statue of a man and beside it a\nlittle door. She opened the door and found herself in a long\ncorridor: so she followed it and entered a Hammam-bath walled\nwith all kinds of costly marbles and floored with a mosaic of\npearls and jewels. Therein were four cisterns of alabaster, one\nfacing other, and the ceiling of the bath was of glass coloured\nwith all varieties of colours, such as confounded the\nunderstanding of those who have insight and amazed the wit of\nevery wight. Tohfah entered the bath, after she had doffed her\ndress, and behold the Hammam-basin was overlaid with gold set\nwith pearls and red balasses and green emeralds and other jewels:\nso she extolled Allah Almighty and hallowed Him for the\nmagnificence of that which she saw of the appointments of that\nbath. Then she made her Wuzu-ablution in that basin and\npronouncing the Prohibition,[FN#184] prayed the dawn-prayer and\nwhat else had escaped her of orisons;[FN#185] after which she\nwent out and walked in that garden among jessamine and lavender\nand roses and chamomile and gillyflowers and thyme and violets\nand basil royal, till she came to the door of the pavilion\naforesaid. There she sat down, pondering that which would betide\nAl-Rashid after her, when he should come to her apartment and\nfind her not; and she plunged into the sea of her solicitude,\ntill slumber overtook her and soon she slept. Presently she felt\na breath upon her face; whereupon she awoke and found Queen\nKamariyah kissing her, and with her her three sisters, Queen\nJamrah, Queen Wakh\ufffdmah and Queen Shar\ufffdrah. So she arose and\nkissed their hands and rejoiced in them with the utmost joy and\nthey ceased not, she and they, to talk and converse, what while\nshe related to them her history, from the time of her purchase by\nthe Maghrabi to that of her coming to the quarters of the slave-\ndealer, where she besought Ishak al-Nadim to buy her,[FN#186] and\nhow she won union with Al-Rashid, till the moment when Iblis came\nto her and brought her to them. They gave not over talking till\nthe sun declined and yellowed and the hour of its setting drew\nnear and the day departed, whereupon Tohfah was urgent in\nsupplication[FN#187] to Allah Almighty, on the occasion of the\nsundown-prayer, that he would reunite her with her lord\nAl-Rashid. After this, she abode with the four queens, till they\narose and entered the palace, where she found the waxen tapers\nlit and ranged in candlesticks of gold and silver, and censing\nvessels of silver and gold filled with lign-aloes and ambergris,\nand there were the kings of the Jann sitting. So she saluted them\nwith the salam, kissing the earth before them and doing them\nservice; and they rejoiced in her and in her sight. Then she\nascended the estrade and sat down upon her chair, whilst King Al-\nShisban and King Al-Muzfir[FN#188] and Queen L\ufffdl\ufffdah and other\nkings of the Jann sat on chairs, and they brought choice tables,\nspread with all manner meats befitting royalties. They ate their\nfill; after which the tables were removed and they washed their\nhands and wiped them with napkins. Then they brought the wine-\nservice and set on tasses and cups and flagons and beakers of\ngold and silver and bowls of crystal and gold; and they poured\nout the wines and they filled the flagons. Then Iblis took the\nbowl and signed to Tohfah to sing: and she said, \"To hear is to\nobey!\" So she hent the lute in hand and tuning it, sang these\ncouplets,\n\n\"Drink wine, O ye lovers, I rede you alw\ufffdy, * And praise his\n     worth who loves night and day;\n'Mid the myrtle, narcissus and lavender, * And the scented herbs\n     that bedeck the tray.\"\n\nSo Iblis the Damned drank and said, \"Brava, O desire of hearts!\nBut thou owest me still another aria.\" Then he filled the cup and\nsigned to her to sing. Quoth she, \"Hearkening and obedience,\" and\nchanted these couplets,\n\n\"Ye wot, I am whelmed in despair and despight, * Ye dight me\n     blight that delights your sight:\nYour wone is between my unrest and my eyes; * Nor tears to melt\n     you, nor sighs have might.\nHow oft shall I sue you for justice, and you * With a pining\n     death my dear love requite?\nBut your harshness is duty, your farness near; * Your hate is\n     Union, your wrath is delight:\nTake your fill of reproach as you will: you claim * All my heart,\n     and I reck not of safety or blame.\"\n\n\nAll present were delighted and the sitting-chamber was moved like\na wave with mirth, and Iblis said, \"Brave, O Tohfat al-Sudur!\"\nThen they left not liquor-bibbing and rejoicing and making merry\nand tambourining and piping till the night waned and the dawn\nwaxed near; and indeed exceeding delight entered into them. The\nmost of them in mirth was the Shaykh Iblis, and for the stress of\nthat which befel him of joyance, he doffed all that was on him of\ncoloured clothes and cast them over Tohfah, and among the rest a\nrobe broidered with jewels and jacinths, worth ten thousand\ndinars. Then he kissed the earth and danced and he thrust his\nfinger up his fundament and hending his beard in hand, said to\nher, \"Sing about this beard and endeavour after mirth and\npleasance, and no blame shall betide thee for this.\" So she\nimprovised and sang these couplets:--\n\n\"Barbe of the olden, the one eyed goat! * What words shall thy\n     foulness o' deed denote?\nBe not of our praises so pompous-proud: * Thy worth for a dock-\n     tail dog's I wot.\nBy Allah, to-morrow shall see me drub * Thy nape with a\n     cow-hide[FN#189] and dust thy coat!\"\n\nAll those present laughed at her mockery of Iblis and wondered at\nthe wittiness of her visnomy[FN#190] and her readiness in\nversifying, whilst the Shaykh himself rejoiced and said to her,\n\"O Tohfat al-Sudur, verily, the night be gone; so arise and rest\nthyself ere the day; and to-morrow there shall be naught save\nweal.\" Then all the kings of the Jinn departed, together with\nthose who were present of guards; and Tohfah abode alone,\npondering the case of Al-Rashid and bethinking her of how it went\nwith him after her going, and of what had betided him for her\nloss, till the dawn lightened, when she arose and walked about\nthe palace. Suddenly she saw a handsome door; so she opened it\nand found herself in a flower-garden finer than the first--ne'er\nsaw eyes of seer a fairer than it. When she beheld this garth,\nshe was moved to delight and she called to mind her lord Al-\nRashid and wept with sore weeping and cried, \"I crave of the\nbounty of Allah Almighty that my return to him and to my palace\nand to my home may be nearhand!\" Then she walked about the\nparterres till she came to a pavilion, high-builded of base and\nwide of space, never espied mortal nor heard of a grander than\nit. So she entered and found herself in a long corridor, which\nled to a Hammam goodlier than that aforetime described, and its\ncisterns were full of rose-water mingled with musk. Quoth Tohfah,\n\"Extolled be Allah! Indeed, this[FN#191] is none other than a\nmighty great king.\" Then she pulled off her clothes and washed\nher body and made her Ghusl-ablution of the whole person[FN#192]\nand prayed that which was due from her of prayer from the evening\nof the previous day.[FN#193] When the sun rose upon the gate of\nthe garden and she saw the wonders thereof, with that which was\ntherein of all manner blooms and streams, and heard the voices of\nits birds, she marvelled at what she beheld of the rareness of\nits ordinance and the beauty of its disposition and sat musing\nover the case of Al-Rashid and pondering what was come of him\nafter her. Her tears coursed down her cheeks and the Zephyr blew\non her; so she slept and knew no more till she suddenly felt a\nbreath on her side-face, whereat she awoke in affright and found\nQueen Kamariyah kissing her, and she was accompanied by her\nsisters, who said, \"Rise, for the sun hath set.\" So Tohfah arose\nand making the Wuzu-ablution, prayed her due of prayers[FN#194]\nand accompanied the four queens to the palace, where she saw the\nwax candles lighted and the kings sitting. She saluted them with\nthe salam and seated herself upon her couch; and behold, King Al-\nShisban had shifted his semblance, for all the pride of his soul.\nThen came up Iblis (whom Allah damn!) and Tohfah rose to him and\nkissed his hands. He also kissed her hand and blessed her and\nasked, \"How deemest thou? Is not this place pleasant, for all its\ndesertedness and desolation?\" Answered she, \"None may be desolate\nin this place;\" and he cried, \"Know that this is a site whose\nsoil no mortal dare tread;\" but she rejoined, \"I have dared and\ntrodden it, and this is one of thy many favours.\" Then they\nbrought tables and dishes and viands and fruits and sweetmeats\nand other matters, whose description passeth powers of mortal\nman, and they ate their sufficiency; after which the tables were\nremoved and the dessert-trays and platters set on, and they\nranged the bottles and flagons and vessels and phials, together\nwith all manner fruits and sweet-scented flowers. The first to\nraise the bowl was Iblis the Accursed, who said, \"O Tohfat al-\nSudur, sing over my cup.\" So she took the lute and touching it,\ncarolled these couplets,\n\n\"Wake ye, Ho sleepers all! and take your joy * Of Time, and boons\n     he deign\ufffdd to bestow;\nThen hail the Wine-bride, drain the wine-ptisane * Which, poured\n     from flagon, flows with flaming glow:\nO Cup-boy, serve the wine, bring round the red[FN#195] * Whose\n     draught gives all we hope for here below:\nWhat's worldly pleasure save my lady's face, * Draughts of pure\n     wine and song of musico?\"\n\nSo Iblis drained his bowl and, when he had made an end of his\ndraught, waved his hand to Tohfah; then, throwing off that which\nwas upon him of clothes, delivered them to her. The suit would\nhave brought ten thousand dinars and with it was a tray full of\njewels worth a mint of money. Presently he filled again and gave\nthe cup to his son Al-Shisban, who took it from his hand and\nkissing it, stood up and sat down again. Now there was before him\na tray of roses; so he said to her, \"O Tohfah, sing thou somewhat\nupon these roses.\" She replied, \"Hearkening and obedience,\" and\nchanted these two couplets,\n\n\"It proves my price o' er all the flowers that I * Seek you each\n     year, yet stay but little stound:\nAnd high my vaunt I m dy\ufffdd by my lord * Whom Allah made the best\n     e'er trod on ground.[FN#196]\"\n\nSo Al-Shisban drank off the cup in his turn and said, \"Brava, O\ndesire of hearts!\" and he bestowed on her that was upon him, to\nwit, a dress of cloth-of-pearl, fringed with great unions and\nrubies and purfled with precious gems, and a tray wherein were\nfifty thousand dinars. Then Maymun the Sworder took the cup and\nbegan gazing intently upon Tohfah. Now there was in his hand a\npomegranate-flower and he said to her, \"Sing thou somewhat, O\nqueen of mankind and Jinn kind upon this pomegranate-flower; for\nindeed thou hast dominion over all hearts.\" Quoth she, \"To hear\nis to obey;\" and she improvised and sang these couplets,\n\n\"Breathes sweet the zephyr on fair part\ufffdrre; * Robing lute in the\n     flamings that fell from air:\nAnd moaned from the boughs with its cooing rhyme * Voice of\n     ring-doves plaining their love and care:\nThe branch dresses in suit of fine sendal green* And in wine-hues\n     borrowed from bloom Gulnare.\"[FN#197]\n\nMaymun the Sworder drained his bowl and said to her, \"Brava, O\nperfection of qualities!\" Then he signed to her and was absent\nawhile, after which he returned and with him a tray of jewels\nworth an hundred thousand ducats, which he gave to Tohfah.\nThereupon Kamariyah arose and bade her slave-girl open the closet\nbehind the Songstress, wherein she laid all that wealth; and\ncommitted the key to her, saying, \"Whatso of riches cometh to\nthee, lay thou in this closet that is by thy side, and after the\nfestivities, it shall be borne to thy palace on the heads of the\nJinn.\" Tohfah kissed her hand and another king, by name\nMun\ufffdr,[FN#198] took the bowl and filling it, said to her, \"O\nferly Fair, sing to me over my bowl somewhat upon the jasmine.\"\nShe replied with, \"Hearkening and obedience,\" and improvised\nthese couplets,\n\n\"'Twere as though the Jasmine (when self she enrobes * On her\n     boughs) doth display to my wondering eyne;\nIn sky of green beryl, which Beauty enclothes, * Star-groups like\n     studs of the silvern mine.\"\n\nMunir drank off his cup and ordered her eight hundred thousand\ndinars, whereat Kamariyah rejoiced and rising to her feet, kissed\nTohfah on her face and said to her, \"Be the world never bereaved\nof thee, O thou who lordest it over the hearts of Jinn-kind and\nmankind!\" Then she returned to her place and the Shaykh Iblis\narose and danced, till all present were confounded; after which\nthe Songstress {sic!} said, \"Verily, thou embellishest my festivities, O\nthou who commandest men and Jinn and rejoicest their hearts with\nthy loveliness and the beauty[FN#199] of thy faithfulness to thy\nlord. All that thy hands possess shall be borne to thee in thy\npalace and placed at thy service; but now the dawn is nearhand;\nso do thou rise and rest thee according to thy custom.\" Tohfah\nturned and found with her none of the Jinn; so she laid her head\non the floor and slept till she had gotten her repose; after\nwhich she arose and betaking herself to the lakelet, made the\nWuzu-ablution and prayed. Then she sat beside the water awhile\nand meditated the matter of her lord Al-Rashid and that which had\nbetided him after her loss and wept with sore weeping. Presently,\nshe heard a blowing behind her;[FN#200] so she turned and behold,\na Head without a body and with eyes slit endlong: it was of the\nbigness of an elephant's skull and bigger and had a mouth as it\nwere an oven and projecting canines as they were grapnels, and\nhair which trailed upon the ground. So Tohfah cried, \"I take\nrefuge with Allah from Satan the Stoned!\" and recited the Two\nPreventives;[FN#201] what while the Head drew near her and said,\n\"Peace be with thee, O Princess of Jinn and men and union-pearl\nof her age and her time! Allah continue thee on life, for all the\nlapsing of the days, and reunite thee with thy lord the\nImam!\"[FN#202] She replied, \"And upon thee be Peace; O thou whose\nlike I have not seen among the Jann!\" Quoth the Head, \"We are a\nfolk who may not change their favours and we are hight Ghuls:\nmortals summon us to their presence, but we cannot present\nourselves before them without leave. As for me, I have gotten\nleave of the Shaykh Abu al-Tawaif to appear before thee and I\ndesire of thy favour that thou sing me a song, so I may go to thy\npalace and question its Haunters[FN#203] concerning the plight of\nthy lord after thee and return to thee; and know, O Tohfat al-\nSudur, that between thee and thy lord be a distance of fifty\nyears' journey for the bon\ufffd-fide traveller.\" She rejoined,\n\"Indeed, thou grievest me anent him between whom and me is fifty\nyears' journey;\" but the Head[FN#204] cried to her, \"Be of good\ncheer and of eyes cool and clear, for the sovrans of the Jann\nwill restore thee to him in less than the twinkling of an eye.\"\nQuoth she, \"I will sing thee an hundred songs, so thou wilt bring\nme news of my lord and that which betided him after me.\" And\nquoth the Head, \"Do thou favour me and sing me a song, so I may\ngo to thy lord and fetch thee tidings of him, for that I desire,\nbefore I go, to hear thy voice, so haply my thirst[FN#205] may be\nquenched.\" So she took the lute and tuning it, sang these\ncouplets:--\n\n\"They have marched, yet no empty stead left they: * They are\n     gone, nor heart grieves me that fled be they:\nMy heart forebode the bereaval of friends; * Allah ne'er bereave\n     steads wherefrom sped be they!\nThough they hid the stations where led were they, * I'll follow\n     till stars fall in disarray!\nYe slumber, but wake shall ne'er fly these lids; * 'Tis I bear\n     what ye never bore--well-away!\nIt had irked them not to farewell who fares * With the parting-\n     fires that my heart waylay.\nMy friends,[FN#206] your meeting to me is much * But more is the\n     parting befel us tway:\nYou're my heart's delight, or you present be * Or absent, with\n     you is my soul for aye!\"\n\nThereupon the Head wept exceeding sore and cried, \"O my lady,\nindeed thou hast solaced my heart, and I have naught but my life;\nso take it.\" She replied, \"Nay, an I but knew that thou wouldst\nbring me news of my lord Al-Rashid, 'twere fainer to me than the\nreign of the world;\" and the Head answered her, \"It shall be done\nas thou desirest.\" Then it disappeared and returning to her at\nthe last of the night, said, \"O my lady, know that I have been to\nthy palace and have questioned one of its Haunters of the case of\nthe Commander of the Faithful and that which befel him after\nthee; and he said, 'When the Prince of True Believers came to\nTohfah's apartment and found her not and saw no sign of her, he\nbuffeted his face and head and rent his raiment.' Now there was\nin thy chamber the Castrato, the chief of thy household, and the\nCaliph cried out at him, saying, 'Bring me Ja'afar the Barmaki\nand his father and brother at this very moment!' The Eunuch went\nout, bewildered in his wit for fear of the King, and when he\nstood in the presence of Ja'afar, he said to him, 'Come to the\nCommander of the Faithful, thou and thy father and thy brother.'\nSo they arose in haste and betaking themselves to the presence,\nsaid, 'O Prince of True Believers what may be the matter?' Quoth\nhe, 'There is a matter which passeth description. Know that I\nlocked the door and taking the key with me, betook myself to my\nuncle's daughter, with whom I lay the night; but, when I arose in\nthe morning and came and opened the door, I found no sign of\nTohfah.' Quoth Ja'afar, 'O Commander of the Faithful have\npatience, for that the damsel hath been snatched away, and needs\nmust she return, seeing that she took the lute with her, and 'tis\nher own lute. The Jinns have assuredly carried her off, and we\ntrust in Allah Almighty that she will return.' Cried the Caliph,\n'This[FN#207] is a thing which may nowise be!' And he abode in\nher apartment, nor eating nor drinking, while the Barmecides\nbesought him to fare forth to the folk; and he weepeth and\ntarrieth on such fashion till she shall return. This, then, is\nthat which hath betided him after thee.\" When Tohfah heard his\nwords, they were grievous to her and she wept with sore weeping;\nwhereupon quoth the Head to her, \"The relief of Allah the Most\nHigh is nearhand; but now let me hear somewhat of thy speech.\" So\nshe took the lute and sang three songs, weeping the while. The\nHead exclaimed, \"By Allah, thou hast been bountiful to me, the\nLord be with thee!\" Then it disappeared and the season of sundown\ncame: so she rose and betook herself to her place in the hall;\nwhereupon behold, the candles sprang up from under the earth and\nkindled themselves. Then the kings of the Jann appeared and\nsaluted her and kissed her hands and she greeted them with the\nsalam. Presently appeared Kamariyah and her three sisters and\nsaluted Tohfah and sat down; whereupon the tables were brought\nand they ate; and when the tables were removed there came the\nwine-tray and the drinking-service. So Tohfah took the lute and\none of the three queens filled the cup and signed to the\nSongstress. Now she had in her hand a violet, so Tohfah\nimprovised these couplets:--\n\n\"I'm clad in a leaf-cloak of green; * In an honour-robe\n     ultramarine:\nI'm a wee thing of loveliest mien * But all flowers as my vassals\n     are seen:\nAn Rose title her 'Morn-pride,' I ween * Nor before me nor after\n     she's Queen.\"\n\nThe queen drank off her cup and bestowed on Tohfah a dress of\ncloth-of-pearl, fringed with red rubies, worth twenty thousand\nducats, and a tray whereon were ten thousand sequins. All this\nwhile Maymun's eye was upon her and presently he said to her,\n\"Harkye, Tohfah! Sing to me.\" But Queen Zalzalah cried out at\nhim, and said \"Desist,[FN#208] O Maymun. Thou sufferest not\nTohfah to pay heed to us.\" Quoth he, \"I will have her sing to\nme:\" and many words passed between them and Queen Zalzalah cried\naloud at him. Then she shook and became like unto the Jinns and\ntaking in her hand a mace of stone, said to him, \"Fie upon thee!\nWhat art thou that thou shouldst bespeak us thus? By Allah, but\nfor the respect due to kings and my fear of troubling the session\nand the festival and the mind of the Shaykh Iblis, I would\nassuredly beat the folly out of thy head!\" When Maymun heard\nthese her words, he rose, with the fire shooting from his eyes,\nand said, \"O daughter of Iml\ufffdk, what art thou that thou shouldst\noutrage me with the like of this talk?\" Replied she, \"Woe to\nthee, O dog of the Jinn, knowest thou not thy place?\" So saying,\nshe ran at him, and offered to strike him with the mace, but the\nShaykh Iblis arose and casting his turband on the ground cried,\n\"Out on thee, O Maymun! Thou dost always with us on this wise.\nWheresoever thou art present, thou troublest our pleasure! Canst\nthou not hold thy peace until thou go forth of the festival and\nthis bride-feast be accomplished? When the circumcision is at an\nend and ye all return to your dwellings, then do as thou willest.\nFie upon thee, O Maymun! Wottest thou not that Imlak is of the\nchiefs of the Jinn? But for my good name, thou shouldst have seen\nwhat would have betided thee of humiliation and chastisement; yet\non account of the festival none may speak. Indeed thou exceedest;\ndost thou not ken that her sister Wakhimah is doughtier[FN#209]\nthan any of the Jann? Learn to know thyself: hast thou no regard\nfor thy life?\" So Maymun was silent and Iblis turned to Tohfah\nand said to her, \"Sing to the kings of the Jinns this day and to-\nnight until the morrow, when the boy will be circumcised and each\nshall return to his own place.\" Accordingly she took the lute and\nKamariyah said to her (now she had a citron in hand), \"O my\nsister, sing to me somewhat on this citron.\" Tohfah replied, \"To\nhear is to obey,\" and improvising, sang these couplets,\n\n\"I'm a dome of fine gold and right cunningly dight; * And my\n     sweetness of youth gladdeth every sight:\nMy wine is ever the drink of kings * And I'm fittest gift to the\n     friendliest sprite.\n\nAt this Queen Kamariyah rejoiced with joy exceeding and drained\nher cup, crying, \"Brava! O thou choice Gift of hearts!\"\nFurthermore, she took off a sleeved robe of blue brocade, fringed\nwith red rubies, and a necklace of white jewels worth an hundred\nthousand ducats, and gave them to Tohfah. Then she passed the cup\nto her sister Zalzalah, who hent in her hand herb basil, and she\nsaid to Tohfah, \"Sing to me somewhat on this basil.\" She replied,\n\"Hearing and obeying,\" and improvised and sang these couplets,\n\n\"I'm the Queen of herbs in the s\ufffdance of wine * And in Heaven\n     Na'\ufffdm are my name and sign:\nAnd the best are promised, in garth of Khuld, * Repose, sweet\n     scents and the peace divine:[FN#210]\nWhat prizes then with my price shall vie? * What rank even mine,\n     in all mortals' eyne?\"\n\nThereat Queen Zalzalah rejoiced with joy exceeding and bidding\nher treasuress bring a basket, wherein were fifty pairs of\nbracelets and the same number of earrings, all of gold, crusted\nwith jewels of price, whose like nor mankind nor Jinn-kind\npossessed, and an hundred robes of vari-coloured brocades and an\nhundred thousand ducats, gave the whole to Tohfah. Then she\npassed the cup to her sister Shararah, who had in her hand a\nstalk of narcissus; so she took it from her and turning to the\nSongstress, said to her, \"O Tohfah, sing to me somewhat on this.\"\nShe replied, \"Hearkening and obedience,\" and improvised these\ncouplets,\n\n\"With the smaragd wand doth my form compare; * 'Mid the finest\n     flowers my worth's rarest rare:\nMy eyes are likened to Beauty's eyne, * And my gaze is still on\n     the bright part\ufffdrre.\"\n\nWhen she had made an end of her song, Shararah was moved to\ndelight exceeding, and drinking off her cup, said to her, \"Brava,\nO thou choice Gift of hearts!\" Then she ordered her an hundred\ndresses of brocade and an hundred thousand ducats and passed the\ncup to Queen Wakhimah. Now she had in her hand somewhat of\nNu'uman's bloom, the anemone; so she took the cup from her sister\nand turning to the Songstress, said to her, \"O Tohfah, sing to me\non this.\" Quoth she, \"I hear and I obey,\" and improvised these\ncouplets,\n\n\"I'm a dye was dyed by the Ruthful's might; * And all confess me\n     the goodliest sight:\nI began in the dust and the clay, but now * On the cheeks of fair\n     women I rank by right.\"\n\nTherewith Wakhimah rejoiced with joy exceeding and drinking off\nthe cup, ordered her twenty dresses of Roum\ufffd brocade and a tray,\nwherein were thirty thousand ducats. Then she gave the cup to\nQueen Shu'\ufffd'ah,[FN#211] Regent of the Fourth Sea, who took it and\nsaid, \"O my lady Tohfah, sing to me on the gillyflower.\" She\nreplied, \"Hearing and obeying,\" and improvised these couplets,\n\n\"The time of my presence ne'er draws to a close, * Amid all whose\n     joyance with mirth o'erflows;\nWhen topers gather to sit at wine * Or in nightly shade or when\n     morning shows,\nI filch from the flagon to fill the bowls * And the crystal cup\n     where the wine-beam glows.\"\n\nQueen Shu'a'ah rejoiced with joy exceeding and emptying her cup,\ngave Tohfah an hundred thousand ducats. Then up sprang Iblis\n(whom Allah curse!) and cried, \"Verily, the dawn lighteneth;\"\nwhereupon the folk arose and disappeared, all of them, and there\nabode not one of them save the Songstress, who went forth to the\ngarden and entering the Hamman made her Wuzu-ablutions and prayed\nwhatso lacked her of prayers. Then she sat down and when the sun\nrose, behold, there came up to her near an hundred thousand green\nbirds, which filled the branches of the trees with their\nmultitudes and they warbled in various voices, whilst Tohfah\nmarvelled at their fashion. Suddenly, appeared eunuchs, bearing a\nthrone of gold, studded with pearls and gems and jacinths, both\nwhite and red, and having four steps of gold, together with many\ncarpets of sendal and brocade and Coptic cloth of silk sprigged\nwith gold; and all these they spread in the centre of the garden\nand setting up the throne thereon, perfumed the place with virgin\nmusk, Nadd[FN#212] and ambergris. After that, there came a queen;\nnever saw eyes a fairer than she nor than her qualities; she was\nrobed in rich raiment, broidered with pearls and gems, and on her\nhead was a crown set with various kinds of unions and jewels.\nAbout her were five hundred slave-girls, high-bosomed maids, as\nthey were moons, screening her, right and left, and she among\nthem like the moon on the night of its full, for that she was the\nmost worthy of them in majesty and dignity. She ceased not\nwalking till she came to Tohfah, whom she found gazing on her in\namazement; and when the Songstress saw her turn to her, she rose\nto her, standing on her feet, and saluted her and kissed ground\nbetween her hands. The queen rejoiced in her and putting out her\nhand to her, drew her to herself and seated her by her side on\nthe couch; whereupon the Songstress kissed her hands and the\nqueen said to her, \"Know, O Tohfah, that all which thou treadest\nof these carpets belongeth not to any of the Jinn, who may never\ntread them without thy leave,[FN#213] for that I am the queen of\nthem all and the Shaykh Abu al-Tawaif Iblis sought my permission\nto hold festival[FN#214] and prayed me urgently to be present at\nthe circumcision of his son. So I despatched to him, in my stead,\na slave-girl of my slave-girls, namely, Shu'\ufffd'ah Queen of the\nFourth Sea, who is vice-reine of my reign. When she was present\nat the wedding and saw thee and heard thy singing, she sent to\nme, informing me of thee and setting forth to me thy grace and\namiability and the beauty of thy breeding and thy\ncourtesy.[FN#215] So I am come to thee, for that which I have\nheard of thy charms, and hereby I do thee a mighty great favour\nin the eyes of all the Jann.\"[FN#216] Thereupon Tohfah arose and\nkissed the earth and the queen thanked her for this and bade her\nsit. So she sat down and the queen called for food; when they\nbrought a table of gold, inlaid with pearls and jacinths and\njewels and bearing kinds manifold of birds and viands of various\nhues, and the queen said, \"O Tohfah, in the name of Allah! Let us\neat bread and salt together, I and thou.\" Accordingly the\nSongstress came forward and ate of those meats and found therein\nsomewhat the like whereof she had never eaten; no, nor aught more\ndelicious than it, while the slave-girls stood around the table,\nas the white compasseth the black of the eye, and she sat\nconversing and laughing with the queen. Then said the lady, \"O my\nsister, a slave-girl told me of thee that thou saidst, 'How\nloathly is what yonder Jinni Maymun eateth!\"[FN#217] Tohfah\nreplied, \"By Allah, O my lady, I have not any eye that can look\nat him,[FN#218] and indeed I am fearful of him.\" When the queen\nheard this, she laughed till she fell backwards and said \"O my\nsister, by the might of the graving upon the seal-ring of\nSolomon, prophet of Allah, I am queen over all the Jann, and none\ndare so much as cast on thee a glance of the eye;\" whereat Tohfah\nkissed her hand. Then the tables were removed and the twain sat\ntalking. Presently up came the kings of the Jinn from every side\nand kissed ground before the queen and stood in her service; and\nshe thanked them for this, but moved not for one of them.[FN#219]\nThen appeared the Shaykh Abu al-Taw\ufffdif Iblis (Allah curse him!)\nand kissed the earth before her, saying, \"O my lady, may I not be\nbereft of these steps!\"[FN#220] She replied, \"O Shaykh Abu\nal-Taw\ufffdif, it behoveth thee to thank the bounty of the Lady\nTohfah, who was the cause of my coming.\" Rejoined he, \"Thou\nsayest sooth,\" and kissed ground. Then the queen fared on towards\nthe palace and there arose and alighted upon the trees an hundred\nthousand birds of manifold hues. The Songstress asked, \"How many\nare these birds?\" and Queen Wakhimah answered her, \"Know, O my\nsister, that this queen is hight Queen al-Shahb\ufffd[FN#221] and that\nshe is queen over all the Jann from East to West. These birds\nthou seest are of her host, and unless they appeared in this\nshape, earth would not be wide enough for them. Indeed, they came\nforth with her and are present with her presence at this\ncircumcision. She will give thee after the measure of that which\nhath been given to thee from the first of the festival to the\nlast thereof;[FN#222] and indeed she honoureth us all with her\npresence.\" Then the queen entered the palace and sat down on the\ncouch of the circumcision[FN#223] at the upper end of the hall,\nwhereupon Tohfah took the lute and pressing it to her breast,\ntouched its strings suchwise that the wits of all present were\nbewildered and Shaykh Iblis cried to her, \"O my lady Tohfah, I\nconjure thee, by the life of this noble queen, sing for me and\npraise thyself, and cross me not.\" Quoth she, \"To hear is to\nobey; still, but for thine adjuration, I had not done this. Say\nme, doth any praise himself? What manner thing is this?\" Then she\nimprovised these couplets:\n\n\"In all f\ufffdtes I'm Choice Gift[FN#224] to the minstrel-race;\nFolk attest my worth, rank and my pride of place,\nWhile Fame, merit and praises with honour engrace.\"\n\nHer verses pleased the kings of the Jann and they cried, \"By\nAllah, thou sayst sooth!\" Then she rose to her feet, hending lute\nin hand, and played and sang, whilst the Jinns and the Shaykh Abu\nal-Taw\ufffdif danced. Presently the Father of the Tribes came up to\nher bussing her bosom, and gave her a Br\ufffdhmani[FN#225] carbuncle\nhe had taken from the hidden hoard of Y\ufffdfis bin N\ufffdh[FN#226] (on\nwhom be the Peace), and which was worth the reign of the world;\nits light was as the sheen of the sun and he said to her, \"Take\nthis and be equitable therewith to the people of the world.\"\n[FN#227] She kissed his hand and rejoiced in the jewel and said,\n\"By Allah, this befitteth none save the Commander of the\nFaithful.\" Now Queen Al-Shahba laughed with delight at the\ndancing of Ibl\ufffds and she said to him, \"By Allah, this is a goodly\npavane!\" He thanked her for this and said to the Songstress, \"O\nTohfah, there is not on earth's face a skilfuller than Ishak\nal-Nadim;[FN#228] but thou art more skilful than he. Indeed, I\nhave been present with him many a time and have shown him\npositions[FN#229] on the lute, and there has betided me with him\nthat which betided. Indeed, the story of my dealings with him is\na long one but this is no time to repeat it; for now I would show\nthee a shift on the lute, whereby thou shalt be exalted over all\nfolk.\" Quoth she, \"Do what seemeth good to thee.\" So he took the\nlute and played thereon a wondrous playing, with rare divisions\nand marvellous modulations, and showed her a passage she knew\nnot; and this was goodlier to her than all that she had gotten.\nThen she took the lute from him and playing thereon, sang and\npresently returned to the passage which he had shown her; and he\nsaid, \"By Allah, thou singest better than I!\" As for Tohfah, it\nbecame manifest to her that her former practice was all of it\nwrong and that what she had learnt from the Shaykh Abu al-Taw\ufffdif\nIblis was the root and foundation of all perfection in the art\nand its modes. So she rejoiced in that which she had won of skill\nin touching the lute far more than in all that had fallen to her\nlot of wealth and honour-robes and kissed the Master's hand. Then\nsaid Queen Al-Shahba, \"By Allah, O Shaykh, my sister Tohfah is\nindeed singular among the folk of her time, and I hear that she\nsingeth upon all sweet-smelling blooms.\" Iblis replied, \"Yes, O my\nlady, and I am in extremest wonderment thereat. But there\nremaineth somewhat of sweet-scented flowers, which she hath not\nbesung, such as myrtle and tuberose and jessamine and the\nmoss-rose and the like.\" Then the Shaykh signed to her to sing\nsomewhat upon the rest of the flowers, that Queen Al-Shahba might\nhear, and she said, \"Hearing and obeying.\" So she took the lute\nand played thereon in many modes, then returned to the first and\nsang these couplets,\n\n\"I'm one of the lover-retinue * Whom long pine and patience have\n     doom\ufffdd rue:\nAnd sufferance of parting from kin and friends * Hath clothed me,\n     O folk, in this yellow hue:\nThen, after the joyance had passed away, * Heart-break, abasement\n     and cark I knew,\nThrough the long, long day when the lift is light, * Nor, when\n     night is murk, my pangs cease pursue:\nSo, 'twixt fairest hope and unfailing fear, * My bitter tears\n     ever flow anew.\"\n\nThereat Queen Al-Shahba rejoiced with joy exceeding and cried,\n\"Brava, O queen of delight! No one is able to describe thee. Sing\nto us on the Apple.\" Quoth Tohfah, \"Hearkening and obedience.\"\nThen she recited these couplets,\n\n\"I surpass all forms in my coquetry* For mine inner worth and\n     mine outer blee;\nTend me noble hands in the sight of all * And slake with pure\n     waters the thirst of me;\nMy robe is of sendal, and eke my veil * Is of sunlight the\n     Ruthful hath bidden be:\nWhen my fair companions are marched afar, * In sorrow fro' home\n     they are forced to flee:\nBut noble hands deign hearten my heart * With beds where I sit in\n     my high degree; [FN#230]\nAnd where, like full moon at its rise, my light * 'mid the\n     garden-fruits thou shalt ever see.\"\n\nQueen Al-Shahba rejoiced in this with exceeding joy and cried\n\"Brava! By Allah, there is none excelleth thee.\" Tohfah kissed\nthe ground, then returned to her place and versified on the\nTuberose, saying,\n\n\"I'm a marvel-bloom to be worn on head! * Though a stranger among\n     you fro' home I fled:\nMake use of wine in my company * And flout at Time who in\n     languish sped.\nE'en so doth camphor my hue attest, * O my lords, as I stand in\n     my present stead.\nSo gar me your gladness when dawneth day, * And to highmost seat\n     in your homes be I led:\nAnd quaff your cups in all jollity, * And cheer and ease shall\n     ne'er cease to be.\"\n\nAt this Queen Al-Shahba rejoiced with exceeding joy and cried,\n\"Brava, O queen of delight! By Allah, I know not how I shall do\nto give thee thy due! May the Most High grant us the grace of thy\nlong continuance!\" Then she strained her to her breast and bussed\nher on the cheek; whereupon quoth Iblis (on whom be a curse!),\n\"This is a mighty great honour!\" Quoth the queen, \"Know that this\nlady Tohfah is my sister and that her biddance is my biddance and\nher forbiddance my forbiddance. So all of you hearken to her word\nand render her worshipful obedience.\" Therewith the kings rose in\na body and kissed ground before Tohfah, who rejoiced in this.\nMoreover, Queen Al-Shahba doffed dress and habited her in a suit\nadorned with pearls, jewels and jacinths, worth an hundred\nthousand ducats, and wrote for her on a slip of paper[FN#231] a\npatent appointing her to be her deputy. So the Songstress rose\nand kissed ground before the Queen, who said to her, \"Of thy\nfavour, sing to us somewhat concerning the rest of the\nsweet-scented flowers and herbs, so I may hear thy chant and\nsolace myself with witnessing thy skill.\" She replied, \"To hear\nis to obey, O lady mine,\" and, taking the lute, improvised these\ncouplets,\n\n\"My hue excelleth all hues in light, * And I would all eyes\n     should enjoy my sight:\nMy site is the site of fillets and pearls * Where the fairest\n     brows are with jasmine dight:\nMy light's uprist (and what light it shows!) * Is a silvern zone\n     on the waist of Night.\"\n\nThen she changed the measure and improvised these couplets,\n\n\"I'm the gem of herbs, and in seasons twain * My tryst I keep\n     with my lovers-train:\nI stint not union for length of time * Nor visits, though some be\n     of severance fain;\nThe true one am I and my troth I keep, * And, easy of plucking,\n     no hand disdain.\"\n\nThen, changing measure and the mode, she played so that she\nbewildered the wits of those who were present, and Queen\nAl-Shahba, moved to mirth and merriment, cried, \"Brava, O queen\nof delight!\" Presently she returned to the first mode and\nimproved these couplets on Nenuphar,\n\n\"I fear me lest freke espy me, * In air when I fain deny me;\nSo I root me beneath the wave, * And my stalks to bow down apply\nme.\"\n\nHereat Queen Al-Shahba rejoiced with exceeding joy, and cried,\n\"Brava, O Tohfah! Let me hear more of thy chant.\" Accordingly,\nshe smote the lute and changing the mode, recited on the Moss-\nrose these couplets,\n\n\"Look on Nasr\ufffdn[FN#232] those branchy shoots surround; * With\n     greenest leafery 'tis deckt and crowned:\nIts graceful bending stem draws every gaze * While beauteous\n     bearing makes their love abound.\"\n\nThen she changed measure and mode and sang these couplets on the\nWater-lily,\n\n\"O thou who askest S\ufffdsan[FN#233] of her scent, * Hear thou my\n     words and beauty of my lay.\n'Emir am I whom all mankind desire' * (Quoth she) 'or present or\n     when ta'en away.'\"\n\nWhen Tohfah had made an end of her song, Queen Al-Shahba rose and\nsaid, \"I never heard from any the like of this;\" and she drew the\nSongstress to her and fell to kissing her. Then she took leave of\nher and flew away; and on like wise all the birds took flight\nwith her, so that they walled the horizon; whilst the rest of the\nkings tarried behind. Now as soon as it was the fourth night,\nthere came the boy who was to be circumcised, adorned with jewels\nsuch as never saw eye nor heard ear of, and amongst the rest a\ncrown of gold crusted with pearls and gems, the worth whereof was\nan hundred thousand sequins. He sat down upon the couch and\nTohfah sang to him, till the chirurgeon[FN#234] came and they\nsnipped his foreskin in the presence of all the kings, who\nshowered on him a mighty great store of jewels and jacinths and\ngold. Queen Kamariyah bade her Eunuchs gather up all this and lay\nit in Tohfah's closet and it was as much in value as all that had\nfallen to her, from the first of the festivities to the last\nthereof. Moreover, the Shaykh Iblis (whom Allah curse!) bestowed\nupon the Songstress the crown worn by the boy and gave the\ncircumcisee another, whereat Tohfah's reason took flight. Then\nthe Jinn departed, in order of rank, whilst Iblis farewelled\nthem, band after band. Seeing the Shaykh thus occupied with\ntaking leave of the kings, Maymun seized his opportunity, the\nplace being empty, and taking up Tohfah on his shoulders, soared\naloft with her to the confines of the lift, and flew away with\nher. Presently, Iblis came to look for the Songstress and see\nwhat she purposed, but found her not and sighted the slave-girls\nslapping their faces: so he said to them, \"Fie on you! What may\nbe the matter?\" They replied, \"O our lord, Maymun hath snatched\nup Tohfah and flown away with her.\" When Iblis heard this, he\ngave a cry whereto earth trembled and said, \"What is to be done?\"\nThen he buffetted his face and head, exclaiming, \"Woe to you!\nThis be none other than exceeding insolence. Shall he carry off\nTohfah from my very palace and attaint mine honour? Doubtless,\nthis Maymun hath lost his wits.\" Then he cried out a second time,\nso that the earth quaked, and rose on his wings high in air. The\nnews came to the rest of the kings; so they flew after him and\novertaking him, found him full of anxiety and affright, with fire\nissuing from his nostrils, and said to him, \"O Shaykh\nal-Tawaif,[FN#235] what is to do?\" He replied, \"Know ye that\nMaymun hath carried off Tohfah from my palace and attainted mine honour.\"\nWhen they heard this, they cried, \"There is no Majesty and there\nis no Might save in Allah the Glorious, the Great. By God he hath\nventured upon a grave matter and verily he destroyeth self and\nfolk!\" Then Shaykh Iblis ceased not flying till he fell in with\nthe tribes of the Jann, and they gathered together a world of\npeople, none may tell the tale of them save the Lord of\nAll-might. So they came to the Fortress of Copper and the Citadel\nof Lead,[FN#236] and the people of the sconces saw the tribes of\nthe Jann issuing from every deep mountain-pass[FN#237] and said,\n\"What be the news?\" Then Iblis went in to King Al-Shisban and\nacquainted him with that which had befallen; whereupon quoth he,\n\"Verily, Allah hath destroyed Maymun and his many! He pretendeth\nto possess Tohfah, and she is become queen of the Jann! But have\npatience till we devise that which befitteth in the matter of\nTohfah.\" Iblis asked, \"And what befitteth it to do?\" And\nAl-Shisban answered, \"We will fall upon him and kill him and his\nhost with cut of brand.\" Then quoth Shaykh Iblis, \"'Twere better\nto acquaint Queen Kamariyah and Queen Zalzalah and Queen\nShararah and Queen Wakhimah; and when they are assembled, Allah\nshall ordain whatso He deemeth good in the matter of her\nrelease.\" Quoth Al-Shisban, \"Right is thy rede\" and they\ndespatched to Queen Kamariyah an Ifrit hight Salhab who came to\nher palace and found her sleeping, so he roused her and she said,\n\"What is to do, O Salhab?\" Cried he, \"O my lady, come to the\nsuccour of thy sister the Songstress, for Maymun hath carried her\noff and attainted thine honour and that of Shaykh Iblis.\" Quoth\nshe, \"What sayst thou?\" and she sat up straight and cried out\nwith a great cry. And indeed she feared for Tohfah and said, \"By\nAllah, in very sooth she used to say that he gazed at her and\nprolonged the gaze; but ill is that whereto his soul hath\nprompted him.\" Then she rose in haste and mounting a Sataness of\nher Satans, said to her, \"Fly.\" So she flew off with her and\nalighted in the palace of her sister Shararah, whereupon she sent\nfor her sisters Zalzalah and Wakhimah and acquainted them with\nthe tidings, saying, \"Know that Maymun hath snatched up Tohfah\nand flown off with her swiftlier than the blinding leven.\" Then\nthey all flew off in haste and lighting down in the place where\nwere their father Al-Shisban and their grandfather the Shaykh Abu\nal-Taw\ufffdif, found the folk on the sorriest of situations. When\ntheir grandfather Iblis saw them, he rose to them and wept, and\nthey all wept for the Songstress. Then said Iblis to them,\n\"Yonder hound hath attainted mine honour and taken Tohfah, and I\nthink not other wise[FN#238] but that she is like to die of\ndistress for herself and her lord Al-Rashid and saying, 'The\nwhole that they said and did was false.'\"[FN#239] Quoth\nKamariyah, \"O grandfather mine, nothing is left for it but\nstratagem and device for her deliverance, for that she is dearer\nto me than everything; and know that yonder accursed when he\nwaxeth ware of your coming upon him, will ken that he hath no\npower to cope with you, he who is the least and meanest of the\nJann; but we dread that he, when assured of defeat, will slay\nTohfah; wherefore nothing will serve but that we contrive a\nsleight for saving her; else will she perish.\" He asked, \"And\nwhat hast thou in mind of device?\" and she answered, \"Let us take\nhim with fair means, and if he obey, all will be well;[FN#240]\nelse will we practice stratagem against him; and expect not her\ndeliverance from other than myself.\" Quoth Iblis, \"The affair is\nthine; contrive what thou wilt, for that Tohfah is thy sister and\nthy solicitude for her is more effectual than that of any other.\"\nSo Kamariyah cried out to an Ifrit of the Ifrits and a calamity\nof the calamities,[FN#241] by name Al-Asad al-Tayy\ufffdr, the Flying\nLion, and said to him, \"Hie with my message to the Crescent\nMountain,[FN#242] the wone of Maymun the Sworder, and enter and\nsay to him, My lady saluteth thee with the salam and asketh thee,\n'How canst thou be assured for thyself of safety, after what thou\nhast done, O Maymun? Couldst thou find none to maltreat in thy\ndrunken humour save Tohfah, she too being a queen? But thou art\nexcused, because thou didst not this deed, but 'twas thy drink,\nand the Shaykh Abu al-Taw\ufffdif pardoneth thee, because thou wast\ndrunken. Indeed, thou hast attainted his honour; but now restore\nher to her palace, for that she hath done well and favoured us\nand rendered us service, and thou wottest that she is this day\nour queen. Belike she may bespeak Queen Al-Shahba, whereupon the\nmatter will become grievous and that wherein there is no good\nshall betide thee; and thou wilt get no tittle of gain. Verily, I\ngive thee good counsel, and so the Peace!'\" Al-Asad answered\n\"Hearing and obeying,\" and flew till he came to the Crescent\nMountain, when he sought audience of Maymun, who bade admit him.\nSo he entered and kissing ground before him, gave him Queen\nKamariyah's message, which when he heard, he cried to the Ifrit,\n\"Return whence thou comest and say to thy mistress, 'Be silent\nand thou wilt show thy good sense.' Else will I come and seize\nupon her and make her serve Tohfah; and if the kings of the Jinn\nassemble together against me and I be overcome by them, I will\nnot leave her to scent the wind of this world and she shall be\nneither mine nor theirs, for that she is presently my sprite\n[FN#243] from between my ribs; and how shall any part with his\nsprite?\" When the Ifrit heard Maymun's words, he said to him, \"By\nAllah, O Maymun, art thou a changeling in thy wits, that thou\nspeakest these words of my lady, and thou one of her page-boys?\"\nWhereupon Maymun cried out and said to him, \"Woe to thee, O dog\nof the Jinns! Wilt thou bespeak the like of me with these words?\"\nThen he bade those who were about him bastinado Al-Asad, but he\ntook flight and soaring high in air, betook himself to his\nmistress and told her the tidings: when she said, \"Thou hast done\nwell, O good knight!\" Then she turned to her sire and said to\nhim, \"Hear that which I shall say to thee.\" Quoth he, \"Say on;\"\nand quoth she, \"I rede thee take thy troops and go to him, for\nwhen he heareth this, he will in turn levy his many and come\nforth to thee; whereupon do thou offer him battle and prolong the\nfight with him and make a show to him of weakness and giving way.\nMeantime, I will devise me a device for getting at Tohfah and\ndelivering her, what while he is busied with you in battle; and\nwhen my messenger cometh to thee and informeth thee that I have\ngotten possession of Tohfah and that she is with me, return thou\nupon Maymun forthwith and overthrow him and his hosts, and take\nhim prisoner. But, an my device succeed not with him and we fail\nto deliver Tohfah, he will assuredly practice to slay her,\nwithout recourse, and regret for her will remain in our hearts.\"\nQuoth Iblis, \"This is the right rede\" and bade call a march among\nthe troops, whereupon an hundred thousand knights, doughty wights\nof war, joined themselves to him and set out for the country of\nMaymun. As for Queen Kamariyah, she flew off to the palace of her\nsister Wakhimah, and told her what deed Maymun had done and how\nhe declared that, whenas he saw defeat nearhand, he would slay\nTohfah; adding, \"And indeed, he is resolved upon this; otherwise\nhad he not dared to work such sleight. So do thou contrive the\naffair as thou see fit, for in rede thou hast no superior.\" Then\nthey sent for Queen Zalzalah and Queen Shararah and sat down to\ntake counsel, one with other, concerning what they had best do in\nthe matter. Presently said Wakhimah, \" 'Twere advisable we fit\nout a ship in this our island home and embark therein, disguised\nas Adam's sons, and fare on till we come to anchor under a little\nisland that lieth over against Maymun's palace. There will we sit\ndrinking and smiting the lute and singing; for Tohfah will\nassuredly be seated there overlooking the sea, and needs must she\nsee us and come down to us, whereupon we will take her by force\nand she will be under our hands, so that none shall be able to\nmolest her any more. Or, an Maymun be gone forth to do battle\nwith the Jinns, we will storm his stronghold and take Tohfah and\nraze his palace and slay all therein. When he hears of this, his\nheart will be broken and we will send to let our father know,\nwhereat he will return upon him with his troops and he will be\ndestroyed and we shall have rest of him.\" They answered her,\nsaying, \"This is a good counsel.\" Then they bade fit out a ship\nfrom behind the mountain,[FN#244] and it was fitted out in less\nthan the twinkling of an eye; so they launched it on the sea and\nembarking therein, together with four thousand Ifrits, set out,\nintending for Maymun's palace. They also bade other five thousand\nIfrits betake themselves to the island under the Crescent\nMountain and there lie in wait for them ambushed well. Thus fared\nit with the kings of the Jann; but as regards Shaykh Abu\nal-Taw\ufffdif Iblis and his son Al-Shisban the twain set out, as we\nhave said, with their troops, who were of the doughtiest of the\nJinn and the prowest of them in wing-flying and horsemanship,\nand fared on till they drew near the Crescent Mountain. When the\nnews of their approach reached Maymun, he cried out with a mighty\ngreat cry to the troops, who were twenty thousand riders, and\nbade them make ready for departure. Then he went in to Tohfah and\nkissing her, said, \"Know that thou art this day my life of the\nworld, and indeed the Jinns are gathered together to wage war on\nme for thy sake. An I win the day from them and am preserved\nalive, I will set all the kings of the Jann under thy feet and\nthou shalt become queen of the world.\" But she shook her head and\nshed tears; and he said, \"Weep not, for I swear by the virtue of\nthe mighty inscription borne on the seal-ring of Solomon, thou\nshalt never again see the land of men; no, never! Say me, can any\none part with his life? Give ear, then, to my words; else will I\nslay thee.\" So she was silent. And forthright he sent for his\ndaughter, whose name was Jamrah,[FN#245] and when she came, he\nsaid to her, \"Harkye, Jamrah! Know that I am going to fight the\nclans of Al-Shisban and Queen Kamariyah and the Kings of the\nJann. An I be vouchsafed the victory over them, to Allah be the\nlaud and thou shalt have of me largesse;[FN#246] but, an thou see\nor hear that I am worsted and any come to thee with ill news of\nme, hasten to kill Tohfah, so she may fall neither to me nor to\nthem.\" Then he farewelled her and mounted, saying, \"When this\ncometh about, pass over to the Crescent Mountain and take up\nthine abode there, and await what shall befal me and what I shall\nsay to thee.\" And Jamrah answered \"Hearkening and obedience.\" Now\nwhen the Songstress heard these words, she fell to weeping and\nwailing and said, \"By Allah, naught irketh me but severance from\nmy lord Al-Rashid; however, when I am dead, let the world be\nruined after me!\"[FN#247] And she was certified in herself that\nshe was assuredly lost. Then Maymun set forth with his army and\ndeparted in quest of the hosts of the Jinn, leaving none in the\npalace save his daughter Jamrah and Tohfah and an Ifrit which was\ndear to him. They fared on till they met with the army of\nAl-Shisban; and when the two hosts came face to face, they fell\neach upon other and fought a fight, a passing sore than which\nnaught could be more. After a while, Al-Shisban's troops began to\ngive way, and when Maymun saw them do thus, he despised them and\nmade sure of victory over them. On this wise it befel them; but\nas regards Queen Kamariyah and her company they sailed on without\nceasing, till they came under the palace wherein was Tohfah, to\nwit, that of Maymun the Sworder; and by the decree of the Lord of\ndestiny, the Songstress herself was at that very time sitting on\nthe belvedere of the palace, pondering the affair of Harun\nal-Rashid and her own and that which had befallen her and weeping\nfor that she was doomed to death. She saw the vessel and what was\ntherein of those we have named, and they in mortal guise, and\nsaid, \"Alas, my sorrow for this ship and for the men that be\ntherein!\" As for Kamariyah and her many, when they drew near the\npalace, they strained their eyes and seeing the Songstress\nsitting, cried, \"Yonder sitteth Tohfah. May Allah not bereave us\nof her!\" Then they moored their craft and, making for the island\nwhich lay over against the palace, spread carpets and sat eating\nand drinking; whereupon quoth Tohfah, \"Well come and welcome to\nyonder faces! These be my kinswomen and I conjure thee by Allah,\nO Jamrah, that thou let me down to them, so I may sit with them\nawhile and enjoy kindly converse with them and return.\" Quoth\nJamrah, \"I may on no wise do that;\" and Tohfah wept. Then the\nfolk brought out wine and drank, while Kamariyah took the lute\nand sang these couplets,\n\n\"By Allah, had I never hoped to greet you * Your guide had failed\n     on camel to seat you!\nFar bore you parting from friend would greet you * Till meseems\n     mine eyes for your wone entreat you.\"\n\nWhen Tohfah heard this, she cried out so great a cry, that the\nfolk heard her and Kamariyah said, \"Relief is nearhand.\" Then the\nSongstress looked out to them and called to them, saying, \"O\ndaughters of mine uncle, I am a lonely maid, an exile from kin\nand country: so for the love of Allah Almighty, repeat that\nsong!\" Accordingly Kamariyah repeated it and Tohfah swooned away.\nWhen she came to herself, she said to Jamrah, \"By the rights of\nthe Apostle of Allah (whom may He save and assain!) unless thou\nsuffer me go down to them and look on them and sit with them for\na full hour, I will hurl myself headlong from this palace, for\nthat I am aweary of my life and know that I am slain to all\ncertainty; wherefore will I kill myself, ere you pass sentence\nupon me.\" And she was instant with her in asking. When Jamrah\nheard her words, she knew that, an she let her not down, she\nwould assuredly destroy herself. So she said to her, \"O Tohfah,\nbetween thee and them are a thousand cubits, but I will bring the\nwomen up to thee.\" The Songstress replied, \"Nay, there is no help\nbut that I go down to them and solace me in the island and look\nupon the sea anear; then will we return, I and thou; for that, an\nthou bring them up to us, they will be affrighted and there will\nbetide them neither joy nor gladness. As for me, I wish but to be\nwith them, that they may cheer me with their company neither give\nover their merrymaking, so peradventure I may broaden my breast\nwith them, and indeed I swear that needs must I go down to them;\nelse I will cast myself upon them.\" And she cajoled Jamrah and\nkissed her hands, till she said, \"Arise and I will set thee down\nbeside them.\" Then she took Tohfah under her armpit and flying up\nswiftlier than the blinding leven, set her down with Kamariyah\nand her company; whereupon she went up to them and accosted them,\nsaying, \"Fear ye not: no harm shall befal you; for I am a mortal,\nlike unto you, and I would fain look on you and talk with you and\nhear your singing.\" So they welcomed her and kept their places\nwhilst Jamrah sat down beside them and fell a-snuffing their\nodours and saying, \"I smell the scent of the Jinn![FN#248] Would\nI wot whence it cometh!\" Then said Wakhimah to her sister\nKamariyah, \"Yonder foul slut smelleth us and presently she will\ntake to flight; so what be this inaction concerning her?\"[FN#249]\nThereupon Kamariyah put out an arm long as a camel's neck, and\ndealt Jamrah a buffet on the head, that made it fly from her body\nand cast it into the sea. Then cried she, \"Allah is\nAll-great!\"[FN#250] And they uncovered their faces, whereupon\nTohfah knew them and said to them, \"Protection!\" Queen Kamariyah\nembraced her, as also did Queen Zalzalah and Queen Wakhimah and\nQueen Shararah, and the first-named said to her, \"Receive the\ngood tidings of assured safety, for there abideth no harm for\nthee; but this is no time for talk.\" Then they cried out,\nwhereupon up came the Ifrits ambushed in that island, hending\nswords and maces in hand, and taking up Tohfah, flew with her to the\npalace and made themselves masters of it, whilst the Ifrit\naforesaid, who was dear to Maymun and whose name was\nDukh\ufffdn,[FN#251] fled like an arrow and stinted not flying till he\ncame to Maymun and found him fighting a sore fight with the Jinn.\nWhen his lord saw him, he cried out at him, saying, \"Fie upon\nthee! Whom hast thou left in the palace?\" Dukhan answered,\nsaying, \"And who abideth in the palace? Thy beloved Tohfah they\nhave captured and Jamrah is slain and they have taken the palace,\nall of it.\" At these ill tidings Maymun buffeted his face and\nhead and said, \"Oh! Out on it for a calamity!\" Then he cried\naloud. Now Kamariyah had sent to her sire and reported to him the\nnews, whereat the raven of the wold[FN#252] croaked for the foe.\nSo, when Maymun saw that which had betided him (and indeed the\nJinn smote upon him and the wings of eternal severance overspread\nhis host), he planted the heel of his lance in the earth and\nturning its head to his heart, urged his charger thereat and\npressed upon it with his breast, till the point came forth\ngleaming from his back. Meanwhile the messenger had made the\nfriendly host with the news of Tohfah's deliverance, whereat the\nShaykh Abu al-Taw\ufffdif rejoiced and bestowed on the bringer of lief\ntidings a sumptuous robe of honour and made him commander over a\ncompany of the Jann. Then they charged home upon Maymun's host\nand wiped them out to the last man; and when they came to Maymun,\nthey found that he had slain himself and was even as we have\nsaid. Presently Kamariyah and her sister Wakhimah came up to\ntheir grandfather and told him what they had done; whereupon he\ncame to Tohfah and saluted her with the salam and congratulated\nher on deliverance. Then he made over Maymun's palace to Salhab;\nand, taking all the rebel's wealth gave it to the Songstress,\nwhile the troops encamped upon the Crescent Mountain.\nFurthermore, the Shaykh Abu al-Taw\ufffdif said to Tohfah, \"Blame me\nnot,\" and she kissed his hands, when behold, there appeared to\nthem the tribes of the Jinn, as they were clouds, and Queen\nAl-Shahba flying in their van, drawn sword in grip. As she came\nin sight of the folk, they kissed ground between her hands and\nshe said to them, \"Tell me what hath betided Queen Tohfah from\nyonder dog Maymun and why did ye not send to me and report to\nme?\" Quoth they, \"And who was this dog that we should send to\nthee on his account? Indeed he was the least and lowest of the\nJinn.\" Then they told her what Kamariyah and her sisters had done\nand how they had practiced upon Maymun and delivered the\nSongstress from his hand, fearing lest he should slay her when he\nfound himself defeated; and she said, \"By Allah, the accursed was\nwont to lengthen his looking upon her!\" And Tohfah fell to\nkissing Al-Shahba's hand, whilst the queen strained her to her\nbosom and kissed her, saying, \"Trouble is past; so rejoice in\nassurance of deliverance.\" Then they rose and went up to the\npalace whereupon the trays of food were brought and they ate and\ndrank; after which quoth Queen Al-Shahba, \"O Tohfah, sing to us,\nby way of sweetmeat[FN#253] for thine escape, and favour us with\nthat which shall solace our minds, for that indeed my thoughts\nhave been occupied with thee.\" And quoth Tohfah, \"Hearkening and\nobedience, O my lady.\" So she improvised and sang these couplets,\n\n\"Breeze of East[FN#254] an thou breathe o'er the dear ones' land\n     * Speed, I pray thee, my special salute and salam:\nAnd say them I'm pledged to love them and * In pine that passeth\n     all pine I am.\"\n\nThereat Queen Al-Shahba rejoiced and with her all who were\npresent; and they admired her speech and fell to kissing her; and\nwhen she had made an end of her song, Queen Kamariyah said to\nher, \"O my sister, ere thou go to thy palace, I would fain bring\nthee to look upon Al-'Ank\ufffd,[FN#255] daughter of Bahram J\ufffdr, whom\nAl-'Anka, daughter of the wind, carried off, and her beauty; for\nthat there is not her fellow on earth's face.\" And Queen\nAl-Shahba said, \"O Kamariyah, I also think it were well an I\nbeheld her.\" Quoth Kamariyah, \"I saw her three years ago; but my\nsister Wakhimah seeth her at all times, for she is near to her\npeople, and she saith that there is not in the world fairer than\nshe. Indeed, this Queen Al-Anka is become a byword for beauty and\ncomeliness.\" And Wakhimah said, \"By the mighty inscription on the\nseal-ring of Solomon, there is not her like for loveliness here\nbelow.\" Then said Queen Al-Shahba, \"An it needs must be and the\naffair is as ye say, I will take Tohfah and go with her to\nAl-Anka, so she may look upon her!\" So they all arose and\nrepaired to Al-Anka, who abode in the Mountain Kaf. When she saw\nthem, she drew near to them and saluted them, saying, \"O my\nladies, may I not be bereaved of you!\" Quoth Wakhimah to her,\n\"Who is like unto thee, O Anka? Behold, Queen Al-Shahba is come\nto thee.\" So Al-Anka kissed the Queen's feet and lodged them in\nher palace; whereupon Tohfah came up to her and fell to kissing\nher and saying, \"Never saw I a seemlier than this semblance.\" Then\nshe set before them somewhat of food and they ate and washed\ntheir hands; after which the Songstress took the lute and smote\nit well; and Al-Anka also played, and they fell to improvising\nverses in turns, whilst Tohfah embraced Al-Anka every moment.\nAl-Shahba cried, \"O my sister, each kiss is worth a thousand\ndinars;\" and Tohfah replied, \"And a thousand dinars were little\ntherefor;\" whereat Al-Anka laughed and after nighting in her\npavilion on the morrow they took leave of her and went away to\nMaymun's palace. Here Queen Al-Shahba farewelled them and taking\nher troops, returned to her capital, whilst the kings also went\naway to their abodes and the Shaykh Abu al-Taw\ufffdif applied himself\nto diverting Tohfah till nightfall, when he mounted her on the\nback of one of the Ifrits and bade other thirty gather together\nall that she had gotten of treasure and raiment, jewels and robes\nof honour. Then they flew off, whilst Iblis went with her, and in\nless than the twinkling of an eye he set her down in her sleeping\nroom, where he and those who were with him bade adieu to her and\nwent away. When Tohfah found herself in her own chamber[FN#256]\nand on her couch, her reason fled for joy and it seemed to her as\nif she had never stirred thence: then she took the lute and tuned\nit and touched it in wondrous fashion and improvised verses and\nsang. The Eunuch heard the smiting of the lute within the chamber\nand cried, \"By Allah, that is the touch of my lady Tohfah!\" So he\narose and went, as he were a madman, falling down and rising up,\ntill he came to the Castrato on guard at the gate of the\nCommander of the Faithful and found him sitting. When his fellow\nneutral saw him, and he like a madman, slipping down and\nstumbling up, he asked him, \"What aileth thee and what bringeth\nthee hither at this hour?\" The other answered, \"Wilt thou not\nmake haste and awaken the Prince of True Believers?\" And he fell\nto crying out at him; whereupon the Caliph awoke and heard them\nbandying words together and Tohfah's slave crying to the other,\n\"Woe to thee! Awaken the Commander of the Faithful in haste.\" So\nquoth he, \"O Sawab, what hast thou to say?\" and quoth the Chief\nEunuch, \"O our lord, the Eunuch of Tohfah's lodging hath lost his\nwits and crieth, 'Awaken the Commander of the Faithful in haste!'\n\" Then said Al-Rashid to one of the slave-girls, \"See what may be\nthe matter.\" Accordingly she hastened to admit the Castrato, who\nentered at her order; and when he saw the Commander of the\nFaithful, he salamed not neither kissed ground, but cried in his\nhurry, \"Quick: up with thee! My lady Tohfah sitteth in her\nchamber, singing a goodly ditty. Come to her in haste and see all\nthat I say to thee! Hasten! She sitteth awaiting thee.\" The\nCaliph was amazed at his speech and asked him, \"What sayst thou?\"\nHe answered, \"Didst thou not hear the first of the speech? Tohfah\nsitteth in the sleeping-chamber, singing and lute-playing. Come\nthy quickest! Hasten!\" Accordingly Al-Rashid sprang up and donned\nhis dress; but he believed not the Eunuch's words and said to\nhim, \"Fie upon thee! What is this thou sayst? Hast thou not seen\nthis in a dream?\" Quoth the Eunuch, \"By Allah, I wot not what\nthou sayest, and I was not asleep;\" and quoth Al-Rashid, \"An thy\nspeech be soothfast, it shall be for thy good luck, for I will\nfree thee and give thee a thousand gold pieces; but, an it be\nuntrue and thou have seen this in dream-land, I will crucify\nthee.\" The Eunuch said within himself, \"O Protector, let me not\nhave seen this in vision!\" then he left the Caliph and running to\nthe chamber-door, heard the sound of singing and lute-playing;\nwhereupon he returned to Al-Rashid and said to him, \"Go and\nhearken and see who is asleep.\" When the Prince of True Believers\ndrew near the door of the sleeping-chamber, he heard the sound of\nthe lute and Tohfah's voice singing; whereat he could not\nrestrain his reason and was like to faint for excess of delight.\nThen he pulled out the key, but his hand refused to draw the bolt:\nhowever, after a while, he took heart and applying himself,\nopened the door and entered, saying, \"Methinks this is none other\nthan a vision or an imbroglio of dreams.\" When Tohfah saw him,\nshe rose and coming to meet him, pressed him to her breast; and\nhe cried out a cry wherein his sprite was like to depart and fell\ndown in a fit. She again strained him to her bosom and sprinkled\non him rose-water mingled with musk, and washed his face, till he\ncame to himself, as he were a drunken man, and shed tears for the\nstress of his joy in Tohfah's return to him, after he had\ndespaired of her returning. Then she took the lute and smote\nthereon, after the fashion she had learnt from Shaykh Iblis, so\nthat Al-Rashid's wit was bewildered for excess of joy and his\nunderstanding was confounded for exultation; after which she\nimprovised and sang these couplets,\n\n\"That I left thee my heart to believe is unlief; * For the life\n     that's in it ne'er leaveth; brief,\nAn thou say 'I went,' saith my heart 'What a fib!' * And I bide\n     'twixt believing and unbelief.\"\n\nWhen she had made an end of her verses, Al-Rashid said to her, \"O\nTohfah, thine absence was wondrous, yet is thy presence still\nmore marvellous.\" She replied, \"By Allah, O my lord, thou sayst\nsooth;\" then, taking his hand, she said to him, \"O Commander of\nthe Faithful, see what I have brought with me.\" So he looked and\nspied treasures such as neither words could describe nor\nregisters could document, pearls and jewels and jacinths and\nprecious stones and unions and gorgeous robes of honour, adorned\nwith margarites and jewels and purfled with red gold. There he\nbeheld what he never had beheld all his life long, not even in\nidea; and she showed him that which Queen Al-Shahba had bestowed\non her of those carpets, which she had brought with her, and that\nthrone, the like whereof neither Kisr\ufffd possessed nor C\ufffdsar, and\nthose tables inlaid with pearls and jewels and those vessels\nwhich amazed all who looked on them, and that crown which was on\nthe head of the circumcised boy, and those robes of honour, which\nQueen Al-Shahba and Shaykh Abu al-Taw\ufffdif had doffed and donned\nupon her, and the trays wherein were those treasures; brief, she\nshowed him wealth whose like he had never in his life espied and\nwhich the tongue availeth not to describe and whereat all who\nlooked thereon were bewildered, Al-Rashid was like to lose his\nwits for amazement at this spectacle and was confounded at that\nhe sighted and witnessed. Then said he to Tohfah, \"Come, tell me\nthy tale from beginning to end, and let me know all that hath\nbetided thee, as if I had been present.\" She answered,\n\"Hearkening and obedience,\" and acquainting him with all that had\nbetided her first and last, from the time when she first saw the\nShaykh Abu al-Taw\ufffdif, how he took her and descended with her\nthrough the side of the Chapel of Ease; and she told him of the\nhorse she had ridden, till she came to the meadow aforesaid and\ndescribed it to him, together with the palace and that was\ntherein of furniture, and related to him how the Jinn rejoiced in\nher, and whatso she had seen of their kings, masculine and\nfeminine, and of Queen Kamariyah and her sisters and Queen\nShu'a'ah, Regent of the Fourth Sea, and Queen Al-Shahba, Queen of\nQueens, and King Al-Shisban, and that which each one of them had\nbestowed upon her. Moreover, she recited to him the story of\nMaymun the Sworder and described to him his fulsome favour, which\nhe had not deigned to change, and related to him that which befel\nher from the kings of the Jinn, male and female, and the coming\nof the Queen of Queens, Al-Shahba, and how she had loved her and\nappointed her her vice-reine and how she was thus become ruler\nover all the kings of the Jann; and she showed him the writ of\ninvestiture which Queen Al-Shahba had written her and told him\nwhat had betided her with the Ghulish Head, when it appeared to\nher in the garden, and how she had despatched it to her palace,\nbeseeching it to bring her news of the Commander of the Faithful\nand of what had betided him after her. Then she described to him\nthe flower-gardens, wherein she had taken her pleasure, and the\nHammam-baths inlaid with pearls and jewels and told him that\nwhich had befallen Maymun the Sworder, when he bore her off, and\nhow he had slain himself; in fine, she related to him everything\nshe had seen of wonders and marvels and that which she had beheld\nof all kinds and colours among the Jinn. Then she told him the\nstory of Al-Anka, daughter of Bahram Jur, with Al-Anka, daughter\nof the wind, and described to him her dwelling-place and her\nisland, whereupon quoth Al-Rashid, \"O Tohfat al-Sadr,[FN#257]\ntell me of Al-Anka, daughter of Bahram Jur; is she of the\nJinn-kind or of mankind or of the bird-kind? For this long time\nhave I desired to find one who should tell me of her.\" Tohfah\nreplied, \"'Tis well, O Commander of the Faithful. I asked the\nqueen of this and she acquainted me with her case and told me who\nbuilt her the palace.\" Quoth Al-Rashid, \"Allah upon thee, tell it\nme;\" and quoth Tohfah, \"I will well,\" and proceeded to tell him.\nAnd he was amazed at that which he heard from her and what she\nreported to him and at that which she had brought back of jewels\nand jacinths of various hues and precious stones of many sorts,\nsuch as amazed the beholder and confounded thought and mind. As\nfor this, Tohfah was the means of the enrichment of the\nBarmecides and the Abbasides, and they had endurance in their\ndelight. Then the Caliph went forth and bade decorate the city:\nso they decorated it and the drums of glad tidings were beaten;\nand they made banquets to the people for whom the tables were\nspread seven days. And Tohfah and the Commander of the Faithful\nceased not to enjoy the most delightsome of life and the most\nprosperous till there came to them the Destroyer of delights and\nthe Severer of societies; and this is all that hath come down to\nus of their story.\n\n\n\n\n                     WOMEN'S WILES[FN#258]\n\n\n\nOn the following night Dunyazad said to her sister Shahrazad, \"O\nsister mine, an thou incline not unto sleep, prithee tell us a\ntale which shall beguile our watching through the dark hours.\"\nShe replied:--With love and gladness.[FN#259] It hath reached me,\nO magnificent King, that whilome there was in the city of\nBaghdad, a comely youth and a well-bred, fair of favour, tall of\nstature, and slender of shape. His name was Al\ufffd al-D\ufffdn and he was\nof the chiefs of the sons of the merchants and had a shop wherein\nhe sold and bought. One day, as he sat in his shop, there passed\nby him a merry girl[FN#260] who raised her head and casting a\nglance at the young merchant, saw written in a flowing hand on\nthe forehead[FN#261] of his shop door these words, \"THERE BE NO\nCRAFT SAVE MEN'S CRAFT, FORASMUCH AS IT OVERCOMETH WOMEN'S\nCRAFT.\" When she beheld this, she was wroth and took counsel with\nherself, saying, As my head liveth, there is no help but I show\nhim a marvel-trick of the wiles of women and put to naught this\nhis inscription!\" Thereupon she hied her home; and on the morrow\nshe made her ready and donning the finest of dress, adorned\nherself with the costliest of ornaments and the highest of price\nand stained her hands with Henna. Then she let down her tresses\nupon her shoulders and went forth, walking with coquettish gait\nand amorous grace, followed by her slave-girl carrying a parcel,\ntill she came to the young merchant's shop and sitting down under\npretext of seeking stuffs, saluted him with the salam and\ndemanded of him somewhat of cloths. So he brought out to her\nvarious kinds and she took them and turned them over, talking\nwith him the while. Then said she to him, \"Look at the\nshapeliness of my shape and my semblance! Seest thou in me aught\nof default?\" He replied, \"No, O my lady;\" and she continued, \"Is\nit lawful in any one that he should slander me and say that I am\nhumpbacked?\" Then she discovered to him a part of her bosom, and\nwhen he saw her breasts his reason took flight from his head and\nhis heart clave to her and he cried, \"Cover it up,[FN#262] so may\nAllah veil thee!\" Quoth she, \"Is it fair of any one to decry my\ncharms?\" and quoth he, \"How shall any decry thy charms, and thou\nthe sun of loveliness?\" Then said she, \"Hath any the right to say\nof me that I am lophanded?\" and tucking up her sleeves, she\nshowed him forearms as they were crystal; after which she\nunveiled to him a face, as it were a full moon breaking forth on\nits fourteenth night, and said to him, \"Is it lawful for any to\ndecry me and declare that my face is pitted with smallpox or that\nI am one-eyed or crop-eared?\" and said he, \"O my lady, what is it\nmoveth thee to discover unto me that lovely face and those fair\nlimbs, wont to be so jealously veiled and guarded? Tell me the\ntruth of the matter, may I be thy ransom!\" And he began to\nimprovise,[FN#263]\n\n\"White Fair now drawn from sheath of parted hair, * Then in the\n     blackest tresses hid from sight,\nFlasheth like day irradiating Earth * While round her glooms the\n     murk of nightliest night.\"\n\n--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her\npermitted say. Whereupon cried Dunyazad her sister, \"O sister\nmine, how delectable is this tale and how desirable!\" She\nreplied, saying, \"And where is this compared with that which I\nwill recount to thee next night, Inshallah?\"\n\n             The Hundred and Ninety-seventh Night.\n\nNow when came the night, quoth Dunyazad to her sister Shahrazad,\n\"O sister mine, an thou incline not unto sleep, prithee finish\nthy tale which shall beguile our watching through the dark\nhours.\" She replied:--With love and gladness! It hath reached me,\nO auspicious King, that the girl said to the young merchant,\n\"Know, O my lord, that I am a maid oppressed of my sire, who\nspeaketh at me and saith to me, Thou art loathly of looks and\nsemblance and it besitteth not that thou wear rich raiment; for\nthou and the slave-girls are like in rank, there is no\ndistinguishing thee from them. Now he is a richard, having a\nmighty great store of money and saith not thus save because he is\na pinchpenny, and grudgeth the spending of a farthing; wherefore\nhe is loath to marry me, lest he be put to somewhat of expense in\nmy marriage, albeit Almighty Allah hath been bounteous to him and\nhe is a man puissant in his time and lacking naught of worldly\nweal.\" The youth asked, \"Who is thy father and what is his\ncondition?\" and she answered, \"He is the Chief Kazi of the well-\nknown Supreme Court, under whose hands are all the Kazis who\nadminister justice in this city.\" The merchant believed her and\nshe farewelled him and fared away, leaving in his heart a\nthousand regrets, for that the love of her had prevailed over him\nand he knew not how he should win to her; wherefore he woned\nenamoured, love-distracted, unknowing if he were alive or dead.\nAs soon as she was gone, he shut up shop and walked straightway\nto the Court, where he went in to the Chief Kazi and saluted him.\nThe magistrate returned his salam and treated him with\ndistinction and seated him by his side. Then said Ala al-Din to\nhim, \"I come to thee seeking thine alliance and desiring the hand\nof thy noble daughter.\" Quoth the Kazi, \"O my lord merchant,\nwelcome to thee and fair welcome; but indeed my daughter\nbefitteth not the like of thee, neither beseemeth she the\ngoodliness of thy youth and the pleasantness of thy compostition\nand the sweetness of thy speech;\" but Ala al-Din replied, \"This\ntalk becometh thee not, neither is it seemly in thee; if I be\ncontent with her, how should this vex thee?\" So the Kazi was\nsatisfied and they came to an accord and concluded the marriage\ncontract at a dower precedent of five purses[FN#264] ready money\nand a dower contingent of fifteen purses, so it might be hard for\nhim to put her away, her father having given him fair warning,\nbut he would not be warned. Then they wrote out the contract\ndocument and the merchant said, \"I desire to go in to her this\nnight.\" Accordingly they carried her to him in procession that\nvery evening, and he prayed the night prayer and entered the\nprivate chamber prepared for him; but, when he lifted the head\ngear from the bride's head and the veil from her face and looked,\nhe saw a foul face and a favour right fulsome; indeed he beheld\nsomewhat whereof may Allah never show thee the like! loathly,\ndispensing from description, inasmuch as there were reckoned in\nher all legal defects.[FN#265] So he repented, when repentance\navailed him naught, and knew that the girl had cheated him.--And\nShahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her\npermitted say. Whereupon cried Dunyazad, her sister, \"O sister\nmine, how delectable is thy story and how sweet!\" She replied,\nsaying, \"And where is this compared with that which I will\nrecount to thee next night an I be spared and suffered to live by\nthe King, whom Almighty Allah preserve?\"\n\n              The Hundred and Ninety-eight Night.\n\nNow whenas came the night, quoth Dunyazad to her sister\nShahrazad, \"O sister mine, an thou incline not unto sleep,\nprithee finish thy story which shall beguile our watching through\nthe dark hours, for indeed 'tis a fine tale and a wondrous.\" She\nreplied:--With love and gladness! It hath reached me, O generous\nKing, that the unhappy merchant carnally knew the loathly bride,\nsore against the grain, and abode that night troubled in mind, as\nhe were in the prison of Al-Daylam.[FN#266] Hardly had the day\ndawned when he arose from her side and betaking himself to one of\nthe Hammams, dozed there awhile, after which he made the\nGhusl-ablution of ceremonial impurity[FN#267] and donned his\nevery day dress. Then he went out to the coffee house and drank a\ncup of coffee; after which he returned to his shop and opening\nthe door, sat down, with concern and chagrin manifest on his\ncountenance. After an hour or so, his friends and intimates among\nthe merchants and people of the market began to come up to him,\nby ones and twos; to give him joy, and said to him, laughing, \"A\nblessing! a blessing! Where be the sweetmeats? Where be the\ncoffee?[FN#268] 'Twould seem thou hast forgotten us; and nothing\nmade thee oblivious save that the charms of the bride have\ndisordered thy wit and taken thy reason, Allah help thee! We give\nthee joy, we give thee joy.\" And they mocked at him whilst he\nkept silence before them, being like to rend his raiment and shed\ntears for rage. Then they went away from him, and when it was the\nhour of noon, up came his mistress, the crafty girl, trailing her\nskirts and swaying to and fro in her gait, as she were a branch\nof Ban in a garden of bloom. She was yet more richly dressed and\nadorned and more striking and cutting[FN#269] in her symmetry and\ngrace than on the previous day, so that she made the passers stop\nand stand in espalier to gaze upon her. When she came to Ala\nal-Din's shop, she sat down thereon and said to him, \"Blessed be\nthe day to thee, O my lord Ala al-Din! Allah prosper thee and be\ngood to thee and perfect thy gladness and make it a wedding of\nweal and welfare!\" He knitted his brows and frowned in answer to\nher; then asked her, \"Wherein have I failed of thy due, or what\nhave I done to harm thee, that thou shouldst requite me after\nthis fashion?\" She answered, \"Thou hast been no wise in default;\nbut 'tis yonder inscription written on the door of thy shop that\nirketh me and vexeth my heart. An thou have the courage to change\nit and write up the contrary thereof, I will deliver thee from\nthine evil plight.\" And he answered, \"Thy requirement is right\neasy: on my head and eyes!\" So saying, he brought out a\nsequin[FN#270] and summoning one of his Mamelukes, said to him,\n\"Get thee to Such-an-one the Scribe and bid him write us an\nepigraph, adorned with gold and lapis lazuli, in these words,\n\"THERE BE NO CRAFT SAVE WOMEN'S CRAFT, FOR INDEED THEIR CRAFT IS\nA MIGHTY CRAFT[FN#271] AND OVERCOMETH AND HUMBLETH THE FALSES OF\nMEN.\" And she said to the white slave \"Fare thee forthright.\" So\nhe repaired to the Scribe, who wrote him the scroll, and he\nbrought it to his master, who set it on the door and asked the\ndamsel, \"Is thy heart satisfied?\" She answered, \"Yes! Arise\nforthwith and get thee to the place before the citadel, where do\nthou foregather with all the mountebanks and ape-dancers and\nbear-leaders and drummers and pipers and bid them come to thee\nto-morrow early, with their kettle-drums and flageolets, whilst\nthou art drinking coffee with thy father-in-law the Kazi, and\ncongratulate thee and wish thee joy, saying, 'A blessing, O son\nof our uncle! Indeed, thou art the vein[FN#272] of our eye! We\nrejoice for thee, and if thou be ashamed of us, verily we pride\nourselves upon thee; so, although thou banish us from thee, know\nthat we will not forsake thee, albeit thou forsake us.' And do\nthou fall to throwing dinars and dirhams amongst them; whereupon\nthe Kazi will question thee, and do thou answer him, saying, My\nfather was an ape-dancer and this is our original condition; but\nour Lord opened on us the gate of fortune and we have gotten us a\nname amongst the merchants and with their provost.' Upon this he\nwill say to thee, \ufffdThen thou art an ape-leader of the tribe of\nthe mountebanks?' and do thou rejoin, \ufffdI may in nowise deny my\norigin, for the sake of thy daughter and in her honour.' The Kazi\nwill say, \ufffdIt may not be that thou shalt be given the daughter of\na Shaykh who sitteth upon the carpet of the Law and whose descent\nis traceable by genealogy to the loins of the Apostle of\nAllah,[FN#273] nor is it meet that his daughter be in the power\nof a man who is an ape-dancer, a minstrel.' Then do thou reply,\n\ufffdNay, O Efendi, she is my lawful wife, and every hair of her is\nworth a thousand lives, and I will not put her away though I be\ngiven the kingship of the world.' At last be thou persuaded to\nspeak the word of divorce and so shall the marriage be voided and\nye be saved each from other.\" Quoth Ala al-Din, \"Right is thy\nrede,\" and locking up his shop, betook himself to the place --And\nShahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying her\npermitted say. Whereupon cried Dunyazad, her sister, \"O sister\nmine, how goodly is thy story and how sweet!\" She replied,\nsaying, \"And where is this compared with that which I will\nrecount to thee next night, Inshallah!\"\n\n              The Hundred and Ninety-ninth Night.\n\nAnd whenas came the night, quoth Dunyazad to her sister, \"O\nsister mine, an thou incline not unto sleep, pray finish thy tale\nwhich shall beguile our watching through the dark hours.\" She\nreplied:--With love and gladness! It hath reached me, O generous\nKing, that the young merchant betook himself to the place before\nthe citadel, where he foregathered with the dancers, the drummers\nand pipers and instructed them how they should do, promising them\na mighty fine reward. They received his word with \"Hearing and\nobeying;\" and he betook himself on the morrow, after the morning\nprayer, to the presence of the Judge, who received him with\nhumble courtesy and seated him by his side. Then he addressed him\nand began questioning him of matters of selling and buying and of\nthe price current of the various commodities which were carried\nto Baghdad from all quarters, whilst his son-in-law replied to\nall whereof he was questioned. As they were thus conversing,\nbehold, up came the dancers and drummers with their drums and\npipers with their pipes, whilst one of their number preceded\nthem, with a long pennon-like banner in his hand, and played all\nmanner antics with voice and limbs. When they came to the Court-house, the Kazi cried, \"I seek refuge with Allah from yonder\nSatans!\" and the young merchant laughed but said naught. Then\nthey entered and saluting his worship the Kazi, kissed Ala\nal-Din's hands and said, \"A blessing on thee, O son of our uncle!\nIndeed, thou coolest our eyes in whatso thou doest, and we\nbeseech Allah for the enduring greatness of our lord the Kazi,\nwho hath honoured us by admitting thee to his connection and hath\nallotted to us a portion in his high rank and degree.\" When the\nJudge heard this talk, it bewildered his wit and he was dazed and\nhis face flushed with rage, and quoth he to his son-in-law, \"What\nwords are these?\" Quoth the merchant, \"Knowest thou not, O my\nlord, that I am of this tribe? Indeed this man is the son of my\nmaternal uncle and that other the son of my paternal uncle, and\nif I be reckoned of the merchants, 'tis but by courtesy!\" When\nthe Kazi heard these words his colour changed--And Shahrazad\nperceived the dawn of day, whereupon cried Dunyazad her sister,\n\"O sister mine, how delectable is thy story and how desirable!\"\nShe replied, saying, \"And where is its first compared with its\nlast? But I will forthwith relate it to you an I be spared and\nsuffered to live by the King, whom may Allah the Most High keep!\"\nQuoth the King within himself, \"By the Almighty, I will not slay\nher until I hear the end of her tale!\"\n\n                    The Two Hundredth Night.\n\nNow whenas came the night, quoth Dunyazad to her sister, \"O\nsister mine, an thou incline not unto sleep, prithee finish thy\ntale which shall beguile our watching through the dark hours.\"\nShe replied:--With love and gladness! It hath reached me, O\nauspicious king, that the Kazi's colour changed and he was\ntroubled and waxed wroth with exceeding wrath and was like to\nburst for stress of rage. Then said he to the young merchant,\n\"Allah forfend that this should last! How shall it be permitted\nthat the daughter of the Kazi of the Moslems cohabit with a man\nof the dancers and vile of origin? By Allah, unless thou\nrepudiate her forthright, I will bid beat thee and cast thee into\nprison and there confine thee till thou die. Had I foreknown that\nthou wast of them, I had not suffered thee near me, but had spat\nin thy face, for that thou art more ill-omened than a dog or a\nhog.\"[FN#274] Then he kicked him down from his place and\ncommanded him to divorce; but he said, \"Be ruthful to me, O\nEfendi, for that Allah is ruthful, and hasten not: I will not\ndivorce my wife, though thou give me the kingdom of Al-Irak.\" The\njudge was perplexed and knew that compulsion was not permitted of\nHoly Law;[FN#275] so he bespake the young merchant fair and said\nto him, \"Veil me,[FN#276] so may Allah veil thee. An thou divorce\nher not, this dishonour shall cleave to me till the end of time.\"\nThen his fury gat the better of his wit and he cried, \"An thou\ndivorce her not of thine own will, I will forthright bid strike\noff thy head and slay myself; Hell-flame but not shame.\"[FN#277]\nThe merchant bethought himself awhile, then divorced her with a\nmanifest divorce and a public[FN#278] and on this wise he won\nfree from that unwelcome worry. Then he returned to his shop and\npresently sought in marriage of her father her who had done with\nhim what she did[FN#279] and who was the daughter of the Shaykh\nof the guild of the blacksmiths. So he took her to wife and they\nabode each with other and lived the pleasantest of lives and the\nmost delightsome, till the day of death: and praise be to Allah\nthe Lord of the Three Worlds.\n\n\n\n\n           NUR AL-DIN ALI OF DAMASCUS AND THE DAMSEL\n                     SITT AL-MILAH.[FN#280]\n\n\n\nThere was once, in days of yore and in ages and times long gone\nbefore, a merchant of the merchants of Damascus, by name Abu\nal-Hasan, who had money and means, slave-blacks and slave-girls,\nlands and gardens, houses and Hammams in that city; but he was\nnot blessed with boon of child and indeed his age waxed great. So\nhe addressed himself to supplicate[FN#281] Allah Almighty in\nprivate and in public and in his bows and his prostrations and at\nthe season of prayer-call, beseeching Him to vouchsafe him,\nbefore his decease, a son who should inherit his wealth and\npossessions. The Lord answered his prayer; his wife conceived and\nthe days of her pregnancy were accomplished and her months and\nher nights; and the travail-pangs came upon her and she gave\nbirth to a boy, as he were a slice of Luna. He had not his match\nfor beauty and he put to shame the sun and the resplendent moon;\nfor he had a beaming face and black eyes of B\ufffdbil\ufffd\nwitchery[FN#282] and aquiline nose and carnelian lips; in fine,\nhe was perfect of attributes, the loveliest of folk of his time,\nsans dubitation or gainsaying. His father joyed in him with\nexceeding joy and his heart was solaced and he was at last happy:\nhe made banquets to the folk and he clad the poor and the widows.\nPresently he named the boy S\ufffdd\ufffd Nur al-Din Ali and reared him in\nfondness and delight among the hand-maids and thralls. When he\nhad passed his seventh year, his father put him to school, where\nhe learned the sublime Koran and the arts of writing and\nreckoning; and when he reached his tenth year, he was taught\nhorsemanship and archery and to occupy himself with arts and\nsciences of all kinds, part and parts.[FN#283] He grew up\npleasant and polite, winsome and lovesome; a ravishment to all\nwho saw him, and he inclined to companying with brethren and\ncomrades and mixing with merchants and travelled men. From these\nhe heard tell of that which they had witnessed of the wonders of\nthe cities in their wayfare and heard them say, \"Whoso journeyeth\nnot enjoyeth naught;[FN#284] especially of the city of Baghdad.\"\nSo he was concerned with exceeding concern for his lack of travel\nand disclosed this to his sire, who said to him, \"O my son, why\ndo I see thee chagrined?\" Quoth he, \"I would fain travel;\" and\nquoth Abu al-Hasan, \"O my son, none travelleth save those whose\nneed is urgent and those who are compelled thereto by want. As\nfor thee, O my son, thou enjoyest ample means; so do thou content\nthyself with that which Allah hath given thee and be bounteous to\nothers, even as He hath been bountiful to thee; and afflict not\nthyself with the toil and tribulation of travel, for indeed it is\nsaid that travel is a piece of Hell-torment.\"[FN#285] But the\nyouth said, \"Needs must I journey to Baghdad, the House of\nPeace.\" When his father saw the strength of his resolve to travel\nhe fell in with his wishes and fitted him out with five thousand\ndinars in cash and the like in merchandise and sent with him two\nserving-men. So the youth fared forth, on the blessing of Allah\nAlmighty;[FN#286] and his parent went out with him, to take leave\nof him, and returned to Damascus. As for Nur al-Din Ali, he\nceased not travelling days and nights till he entered Baghdad\ncity, and laying up his loads in the Wak\ufffdlah,[FN#287] made for\nthe Hammam-bath, where he did away that which was upon him of the\nsoil of the road and doffing his travelling clothes, donned a\ncostly suit of Yaman\ufffd stuff, worth an hundred dinars. Then he\nloaded his sleeve with a thousand miskals of gold and sallied\nforth a-walking and swaying gracefully as he paced along. His\ngait confounded all those who gazed upon him, as he shamed the\nbranches with his shape and belittled the rose with the redness\nof his cheeks and his black eyes of Babil\ufffd witchcraft: thou\nwouldst deem that whoso looked on him would surely be preserved\nfrom bane and bale;[FN#288] for he was even as saith of him one\nof his describers in these couplets:--\n\n\"Thy haters and enviers say for jeer * A true say that profits\n     what ears will hear;\n'No boast is his whom the gear adorns; * The boast be his who\n     adorns the gear!'\"\n\nSo Sidi Nur al-Din went walking in the highways of the city and\nviewing its edifices and its bazars and thoroughfares and gazing\non its folk. Presently, Ab\ufffd Now\ufffds met him. (Now he was of those\nof whom it is said, \"They love fair lads,\" and indeed there is\nsaid what is said concerning him.)[FN#289] When he saw Nur al-Din\nAli, he stared at him in amazement and exclaimed, \"Say, I take\nrefuge with the Lord of the Daybreak!\" Then he accosted the youth\nand saluting him, asked him, \"Why do I see my lord lone and lorn?\nMeseemeth thou art a stranger and knowest not this country; so,\nwith leave of my lord, I will put myself at his service and\nacquaint him with the streets, for that I know this city.\" Nur\nal-Din answered, \"This will be of thy favour, O nuncle.\" Abu\nNowas rejoiced at this and fared on with him, showing him the\nstreets and bazars, till they came to the house of a\nslave-dealer, where he stopped and said to the youth, \"From what\ncity art thou?\" \"From Damascus,\" replied Nur al-Din; and Abu\nNowas said, \"By Allah, thou art from a blessed city, even as\nsaith of it the poet in these couplets,\n\n'Now is Damascus a garth adorned * For her seekers, the Houris\n     and Paradise-boys.'\"\n\nSidi Nur al-Din thanked him and the twain entered the mansion of\nthe slave-merchant. When the people of the house saw Abu Nowas,\nthey rose to do him reverence, for that which they knew of his\nrank with the Commander of the Faithful; and the slave-dealer\nhimself came up to them with two chairs whereon they seated\nthemselves. Then the slave-merchant went inside and returning\nwith a slave-girl, as she were a branch of Ban or a rattan-cane,\nclad in a vest of damask silk and tired with a black and white\nheaddress whose ends fell down over her face, seated her on a\nchair of ebony; after which he cried to those who were present,\n\"I will discover to you a favour as it were a full moon breaking\nforth from under a cloud-bank.\" They replied, \"Do so;\" whereupon\nhe unveiled the damsel's face and behold, she was like the\nshining sun, with shapely shape and dawn-bright cheeks and\nthready waist and heavy hips; brief, she was endowed with an\nelegance, whose description is unfound, and was even as saith of\nher the poet,[FN#290]\n\n\"A fair one, to idolaters if she herself should show, They'd\n     leave their idols and her face for only Lord would know;\nAnd if into the briny sea one day she chanced to spit, Assuredly\n     the salt sea's floods straight fresh and sweet would grow.\"\n\nThe dealer stood at the hand-maid's head and one of the merchants\nsaid, \"I bid a thousand dinars for her.\" Quoth another, \"I bid\none thousand one hundred dinars;\" and a third, \"I bid twelve\nhundred.\" Then said a fourth merchant, \"Be she mine for fourteen\nhundred ducats.\" And the biddings standing still at that sum, her\nowner said, \"I will not sell her save with her consent: an if she\ndesire to be sold, I will sell her to whom she willeth.\" The\nslave-dealer asked him, \"What is her name?\" Answered the other,\n\"Her name is Sitt al-Mil\ufffdh;\"[FN#291] whereupon the dealer said to\nher, \"With thy leave, I will sell thee to yonder merchant for\nthis price of fourteen hundred dinars.\" Quoth she, \"Come hither\nto me.\" So the man-vendor came up to her and when he drew near, she\ngave him a kick with her foot and cast him to the ground, saying,\n\"I will not have that oldster.\" The slave-dealer arose, shaking\nthe dust from his dress and head, and cried, \"Who biddeth more of\nus? Who is desirous?\"[FN#292] Said one of the merchants, \"I,\" and\nthe dealer said to her, \"O Sitt al-Milah, shall I sell thee to\nthis merchant?\" She replied, \"Come hither to me;\" but he\nrejoined, \"Nay; speak and I will hear thee from my place, for I\nwill not trust myself to thee nor hold myself safe when near\nthee.\" So she cried, \"Indeed I will not have him.\" Then the\nslave-dealer looked at her and seeing her fix eyes on the young\nDamascene, for that in very deed he had fascinated her with his\nbeauty and loveliness, went up to him and said to him, \"O my\nlord, art thou a looker-on or a buyer? Tell me.\" Quoth Nur\nal-Din, \"I am both looker-on and buyer. Wilt thou sell me yonder\nslave-girl for sixteen hundred ducats?\" And he pulled out the\npurse of gold. Hereupon the dealer returned, dancing and clapping\nhis hands and saying, \"So be it, so be it, or not at all!\" Then\nhe came to the damsel and said to her, \"O Sitt al-Milah, shall I\nsell thee to yonder young Damascene for sixteen hundred dinars?\"\nBut she answered, \"No,\" of bashfulness before her master and the\nbystanders; whereupon the people of the bazar and the\nslave-merchant departed, and Abu Nowas and Ali Nur al-Din arose\nand went each his own way, whilst the damsel returned to her\nowner's house, full of love for the young Damascene. When the\nnight darkened on her, she called him to mind and her heart hung\nto him and sleep visited her not; and on this wise she abode days\nand nights, till she sickened and abstained from food. So her\nlord went in to her and asked her, \"O Sitt al-Milah, how findest\nthou thyself?\" Answered she, \"O my lord, dead without chance of\ndeliverance and I beseech thee to bring me my shroud, so I may\nlook upon it ere I die.\" Therewith he went out from her, sore\nconcerned for her, and betaking himself to the bazar, found a\nfriend of his, a draper, who had been present on the day when the\ndamsel was cried for sale. Quoth his friend to him, \"Why do I see\nthee troubled?\" and quoth he, \"Sitt al-Milah is at the point of\ndeath and for three days she hath neither eaten nor drunken. I\nquestioned her to-day of her case and she said, 'O my lord, buy\nme a shroud so I may look upon it ere I die.'\" The draper\nreplied, \"Methinks naught aileth her but that she is in love with\nthe young Damascene, and I counsel thee to mention his name to\nher and declare to her that he hath foregathered with thee on her\naccount and is desirous of coming to thy quarters, so he may hear\nsomewhat of her singing. An she say, 'I reck not of him, for\nthere is that to do with me which distracteth me from the\nDamascene and from other than he,' know that she saith sooth\nconcerning her sickness; but, an she say thee other than this,\nacquaint me therewith.\" So the man returned to his lodging and\ngoing in to his slave-girl said to her, \"O Sitt al-Milah, I went\nout for thy need and there met me the young man of Damascus, and\nhe saluted me with the salam and saluteth thee; he seeketh to win\nthy favour and prayed me to admit him as a guest in our dwelling,\nso thou mayst let him hear somewhat of thy singing.\" When she\nheard speak of the young Damascene, she gave a sob, that her soul\nwas like to leave her body, and answered, \"He knoweth my plight\nand how these three days past I have not eaten nor drunken, and I\nbeseech thee, O my lord, by Allah of All-Might, to do thy duty by\nthe stranger and bring him to my lodging and make excuse to him\nfor me.\" When her master heard this, his reason fled for joy, and\nhe went to his familiar the draper and said to him, \"Thou wast\nright in the matter of the damsel, for that she is in love with\nthe young Damascene; so how shall I manage?\" Said the other, \"Go\nto the bazar and when thou seest him, salute him, and say to him,\n'Thy departure the other day, without winning thy wish, was\ngrievous to me; so, an thou be still minded to buy the maid, I\nwill abate thee of that which thou badest for her an hundred\nsequins by way of gaining thy favour; seeing thou be a stranger\nin our land.' If he say to thee, 'I have no desire for her,' and\nhold off from thee, be assured that he will not buy; in which\ncase, let me know, so I may devise thee another device; and if he\nsay to thee other than this, conceal not from me aught.\" So the\ngirl's owner betook himself to the bazar, where he found the\nyouth seated at the upper end of the place where the merchants\nmostly do meet, selling and buying and taking and giving, as he\nwere the moon on the night of its full, and saluted him. The\nyoung man returned his salam and he said to him, \"O my lord, be\nnot offended at the damsel's speech the other day, for her price\nshall be lowered to the intent that I may secure thy favour. An\nthou desire her for naught, I will send her to thee or an thou\nwouldst have me abate to thee her price, I will well, for I\ndesire nothing save what shall content thee; seeing thou art a\nstranger in our land and it behoveth us to treat thee hospitably\nand have consideration for thee.\" The youth replied, \"By Allah, I\nwill not take her from thee but at an advance on that which I\nbade thee for her afore; so wilt thou now sell her to me for one\nthousand and seven hundred dinars?\" And the other rejoined, \"O my\nlord, I sell her to thee, may Allah bless thee in her!\" Thereupon\nthe young man went to his quarters and fetching a purse, sent for\nthe girl's owner and weighed out to him the price aforesaid,\nwhilst the draper was between the twain. Then said he, \"Bring her\nforth;\" but the other replied, \"She cannot come forth at this\npresent; but be thou my guest the rest of this day and night, and\non the morrow thou shalt take thy slave-girl and go in the ward\nof Allah.\" The youth agreed with him on this and he carried him\nto his house, where, after a little, he bade meat and wine be\nbrought, and they ate and drank. Then said Nur al-Din to the\ngirl's owner, \"I would have thee bring me the damsel, because I\nbought her not but for the like of this time.\" So he arose and\ngoing in to the girl, said to her, \"O Sitt al-Milah, the young\nman hath paid down thy price and we have bidden him hither; so he\nhath come to our quarters and we have entertained him, and he\nwould fain have thee be present with him.\" Therewith the damsel\nrose deftly and doffing her dress, bathed and donned sumptuous\napparel and perfumed herself and went out to him, as she were a\nbranch of Ban or a cane of rattan, followed by a black\nslave-girl, bearing the lute. When she came to the young man, she\nsaluted him and sat down by his side. Then she took the lute from\nthe slave-girl and screwing up its pegs,[FN#293] smote thereon in\nfour-and-twenty modes, after which she returned to the first and\nsang these couplets,\n\n\"My joy in this world is to see and sit near thee. * Thy love's\n     my religion; thy Union my pleasure.\nAttest it these tears when in memory I speer thee, * And\n     unchecked down my cheeks pours the flood without measure.\nBy Allah, no rival in love hast to fear thee; * I'm thy slave as\n     I sware, and this troth is my treasure.\nBe not this our last meeting: by Allah I swear thee * Thy\n     severance to me were most bitter displeasure!\"\n\nThe young man was moved to delight and cried, \"By Allah, thou\nsayest well, O Sitt al-Milah! Let me hear more.\" Then he\nlargessed her with fifty gold pieces and they drank and the cups\nmade circuit among them; and her seller said to her, \"O Sitt\nal-Milah, this is the season of farewelling; so let us hear\nsomewhat thereon.\" Accordingly she struck the lute and touching\nupon that which was in her heart, improvised these couplets,\n\n\"I thole longing, remembrance and sad repine, * Nor my heart can\n     brook woes in so lengthened line.\nO my lords think not I forget your love; * My case is sure case\n     and cure shows no sign.\nIf creature could swim in the flood of his tears, * I were first\n     to swim in these floods of brine:\nO Cup-boy withhold cup and bowl from a wretch * Who ne'er ceaseth\n     to drink of her tears for wine!\nHad I known that parting would do me die, * I had shirked to\n     part, but--'twas Fate's design.\"\n\nNow whilst they were thus enjoying whatso is most delicious of\nease and delight, and indeed the wine was to them sweet and the\ntalk a treat, behold, there came a knocking at the door. So the\nhouse-master went out, that he might see what might be the\nmatter, and found ten head of the Caliph's eunuchs at the\nentrance. When he saw this, he was startled and said, \"What is to\ndo?\" \"The Commander of the Faithful saluteth thee and requireth\nof thee the slave-girl whom thou hast exposed for sale and whose\nname is Sitt al-Milah.\" \"By Allah, I have sold her.\" \"Swear by\nthe head of the Commander of the Faithful that she is not in thy\nquarters.\" The slaver made oath that he had sold her and that she\nwas no longer at his disposal: yet they paid no heed to his word\nand forcing their way into the house, found the damsel and the\nyoung Damascene in the sitting-chamber. So they laid hands upon\nher, and the youth said, \"This is my slave-girl, whom I have\nbought with my money;\" but they hearkened not to his speech and\ntaking her, carried her off to the Prince of True Believers.\nTherewith Nur al-Din's pleasure was troubled: he arose and donned\nhis dress, and his host said, \"Whither away this night, O my\nlord?\" Said he, \"I purpose going to my quarters, and to-morrow I\nwill betake myself to the palace of the Commander of the Faithful\nand demand my slave-girl.\" The other replied, \"Sleep till the\nmorning, and fare not forth at the like of this hour.\" But he\nrejoined, \"Needs must I go;\" and the host said to him, \"Go in\nAllah his safeguard.\" So the youth went forth and, drunkenness\nhaving got the mastery of his wits, he threw himself down on a\nbench before one of the shops. Now the watchmen were at that hour\nmaking their rounds and they smelt the sweet scent of essences\nand wine that reeked from him; so they made for it and suddenly\nbeheld the youth lying on the bench, without sign of recovering.\nThey poured water upon him, and he awoke, whereupon they carried\nhim off to the office of the Chief of Police and he questioned\nhim of his case. He replied \"O my lord, I am an alien in this\ntown and have been with one of my friends: I came forth from his\nhouse and drunkenness overcame me.\" The Wali bade carry him to\nhis lodging; but one of those in attendance upon him, Al-Mur\ufffddi\nhight, said to him, \"What wilt thou do? This man is robed in rich\nraiment and on his finger is a golden ring, whose bezel is a ruby\nof great price; so we will carry him away and slay him and take\nthat which is upon him of clothes and bring to thee all we get;\nfor that thou wilt not often see profit the like thereof,\nespecially as this fellow is a foreigner and there is none to ask\nafter him.\"[FN#294] Quoth the Chief, \"This wight is a thief and\nthat which he saith is leasing.\" Nur al-Din said, \"Allah forfend\nthat I should be a thief!\" but the Wali answered, \"Thou liest.\"\nSo they stripped him of his clothes and taking the seal-ring from\nhis finger, beat him with a grievous beating, what while he cried\nout for succour, but none succoured him, and besought protection,\nbut none protected him. Then said he to them, \"O folk, ye are\nquit[FN#295] of that which ye have taken from me; but now restore\nme to my lodging.\" They replied, \"Leave this knavery, O rascal!\nthine intent is to sue us for thy clothes on the morrow.\" The\nyouth cried, \"By the truth of the One, the Eternal One, I will\nnot sue any for them!\" but they said, \"We find no way to this.\"\nAnd the Prefect bade them bear him to the Tigris and there slay\nhim and cast him into the stream. So they dragged him away, while\nhe wept and said the words which shall nowise shame the sayer:\n\"There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in Allah, the\nGlorious, the Great!\" When they came to the Tigris, one of them\ndrew the sword upon him and Al-Muradi said to the sworder, \"Smite\noff his head;\" but one of them, hight Ahmad, cried, \"O folk, deal\nsoftly with this poor wretch and slay him not unjustly and\nwickedly, for I stand in fear of Allah Almighty, lest He burn me\nwith his fire.\" Quoth Al-Muradi, \"A truce to this talk!\" and\nquoth the Ahmad aforesaid, \"An ye do with him aught, I will\nacquaint the Commander of the Faithful.\" They asked, \"How, then,\nshall we do with him?\" and he answered, \"Let us deposit him in\nprison and I will be answerable to you for his provision; so\nshall we be quit of his blood, for indeed he is a wronged man.\"\nAccordingly they agreed to this and taking him up cast him into\nthe Prison of Blood,[FN#296] and then went their ways. So far as\nregards them; but returning to the damsel, they carried her to\nthe Commander of the Faithful and she pleased him; so he assigned\nher a chamber of the chambers of choice. She tarried in the\npalace, neither eating nor drinking, and weeping sans surcease\nnight and day, till, one night, the Caliph sent for her to his\nsitting-hall and said to her, \"O Sitt al-Milah, be of good cheer\nand keep thine eyes cool of tear, for I will make thy rank higher\nthan any of the concubines and thou shalt see that which shall\nrejoice thee.\" She kissed ground and wept; whereupon the Prince\nof True Believers called for her lute and bade her sing: so in\naccordance with that which was in her heart, she sang these\nimprovised couplets,\n\n\"By the sheen of thy soul and the sheen of thy smile,[FN#297] *\n     Say, moan'st thou for doubt or is't ring-dove's moan?\nHow many have died who by love were slain! * Fails my patience\n     but blaming my blamers wone.\"\n\nNow when she had made an end of her song, she threw the lute from\nher hand and wept till she fainted away, whereupon the Caliph\nbade carry her to her chamber. But he was fascinated by her and\nloved her with exceeding love; so, after a while, he again\ncommanded to bring her in to the presence, and when she came, he\nordered her to sing. Accordingly, she took the lute and chanted\nto it that which was in her heart and improvised these couplets,\n\n\"Have I patience and strength to support this despair? * Ah, how\n     couldst thou purpose afar to fare?\nThou art swayed by the spy to my cark and care: * No marvel an\n     branchlet sway here and there![FN#298]\nWith unbearable load thou wouldst load me, still * Thou loadest\n     with love which I theewards bear.\"\n\nThen she cast the lute from her hand and fainted away; so she was\ncarried to her sleeping-chamber and indeed passion grew upon her.\nAfter a long while the Prince of True Believers sent for her a\nthird time and commanded her to sing. So she took the lute and\nchanted these couplets,\n\n\"O of piebald wild ye dunes sandy and drear, * Shall the teenful\n     lover 'scape teen and tear?\nShall ye see me joined with a lover, who * Still flies or shall\n     meet we in joyful cheer?\nO hail to the fawn with the Houri eye, * Like sun or moon on\n     horizon clear!\nHe saith to lovers, 'What look ye on?' * And to stony hearts,\n     'Say, what love ye dear?'[FN#299]\nI pray to Him who departed us * With severance-doom, 'Be our\n     union near!'\"\n\nWhen she had made an end of her verse, the Commander of the\nFaithful said to her, \"O damsel, thou art in love.\" She replied,\n\"Yes;\" and he asked, \"With whom?\" Answered she, \"With my lord and\nsovran of my tenderness, for whom my love is as the love of the\nearth for rain, or as the desire of the female for the male; and\nindeed the love of him is mingled with my flesh and my blood and\nhath entered into the channels of my bones. O Prince of True\nBelievers, whenever I call him to mind my vitals are consumed,\nfor that I have not yet won my wish of him, and but that I fear\nto die, without seeing him, I had assuredly slain myself.\"\nThereupon quoth he, \"Art thou in my presence and durst bespeak me\nwith the like of these words? Forsure I will gar thee forget thy\nlord.\" Then he bade take her away; so she was carried to her\npavilion and he sent her a concubine, with a casket wherein were\nthree thousand ducats and a collar of gold set with seed-pearls\nand great unions, and jewels, worth other three thousand, saying\nto her, \"The slave-girl and that which is with her are a gift\nfrom me to thee.\" When she heard this, she cried, \"Allah forfend\nthat I be consoled for the love of my lord and my master, though\nwith an earth-full of gold!\" And she improvised and recited these\ncouplets,\n\n\"By his life I swear, by his life I pray; * For him fire I'd\n     enter unful dismay!\n'Console thee (cry they) with another fere * Thou lovest!' and I,\n     'By 's life, nay, NAY!'\nHe's moon whom beauty and grace array; * From whose cheeks and\n     brow shineth light of day.\"\n\nThen the Commander of the Faithful summoned her to his presence a\nfourth time and said, \"O Sitt al-Milah, sing.\" So she recited and\nsang these couplets,\n\n\"The lover's heart by his beloved is oft dishearten\ufffdd * And by\n     the hand of sickness eke his sprite dispirit\ufffdd,\nOne asked, 'What is the taste of love?\"[FN#300] and I to him\n     replied, * 'Love is a sweet at first but oft in fine\n     unsweetened.'\nI am the thrall of Love who keeps the troth of love to\n     them[FN#301] * But oft they proved themselves 'Urk\ufffdb[FN#302]\n     in pact with me they made.\nWhat in their camp remains? They bound their loads and fared\n     away; * To other feres the veil\ufffdd Fairs in curtained litters\n     sped;\nAt every station the beloved showed all of Joseph's charms: * The\n     lover wone with Jacob's woe in every shift of stead.\"\n\nWhen she had made an end of her song, she threw the lute from her\nhand and wept herself a-swoon. So they sprinkled on her\nmusk-mingled rose-water and willow-flower water; and when she\ncame to her senses, Al-Rashid said to her, \"O Sitt al-Milah, this\nis not just dealing in thee. We love thee and thou lovest\nanother.\" She replied, \"O Commander of the Faithful, there is no\nhelp for it.\" Thereupon he was wroth with her and cried, \"By the\nvirtue of Hamzah[FN#303] and 'Ak\ufffdl[FN#304] and Mohammed, Prince\nof the Apostles, an thou name in my presence one other than I, I\nwill assuredly order strike off thy head!\" Then he bade return\nher to her chamber, whilst she wept and recited these couplets,\n\n'Oh brave!' I'd cry an I my death could view; * My death were\n     better than these griefs to rue,\nDid sabre hew me limb by limb; this were * Naught to affright a\n     lover leal-true.\"\n\nThen the Caliph went in to the Lady Zubaydah, complexion-altered\nwith anger, and she noted this in him and said to him, \"How\ncometh it that I see the Commander of the Faithful changed of\ncolour?\" He replied, \"O daughter of my uncle, I have a beautiful\nslave-girl, who reciteth verses by rote and telleth various\ntales, and she hath taken my whole heart; but she loveth other\nthan myself and declareth that she affecteth her former lord; so\nI have sworn a great oath that, if she come again to my sitting-\nhall and sing for other than for me, I will assuredly shorten her\nhighest part by a span.\"[FN#305] Quoth Zubaydah, \"Let the\nCommander of the Faithful favour me by presenting her, so I may\nlook on her and hear her singing.\" Accordingly he bade fetch her\nand she came, upon which the Lady Zubaydah withdrew behind the\ncurtain,[FN#306] where the damsel saw her not, and Al-Rashid said\nto her, \"Sing to us.\" So she took the lute and tuning it, recited\nthese couplets,\n\n\"O my lord! since the day when I lost your sight, * My life was\n     ungladdened, my heart full of teen;\nThe memory of you kills me every night; * And by all the worlds\n     is my trace unseen;\nAll for love of a Fawn who hath snared my sprite * By his love\n     and his brow as the morning sheen.\nLike a left hand parted from brother right * I became by parting\n     thro' Fortune's spleen.\nOn the brow of him Beauty deigned indite * 'Blest be Allah, whom\n     best of Creators I ween!'\nAnd Him I pray, who could disunite * To re-unite us. Then cry\n     'Ameen!'\"[FN#307]\n\nWhen Al-Rashid heard the end of this, he waxed exceeding wroth\nand said, \"May Allah not reunite you twain in gladness!\" Then he\nsummoned the headsman, and when he presented himself, he said to\nhim, \"Strike off the head of this accursed slave-girl.\" So Masrur\ntook her by the hand and led her away; but, when she came to the\ndoor, she turned and said to the Caliph, \"O Commander of the\nFaithful, I conjure thee, by thy fathers and forefathers, behead\nme not until thou give ear to that I shall say!\" Then she\nimprovised and recited these couplets,\n\n\"Emir of Justice, be to lieges kind * For Justice ever guides thy\n     generous mind;\nAnd, oh, who blamest love to him inclining! * Are lovers blamed\n     for l\ufffdches undesigned?\nBy Him who gave thee rule, deign spare my life * For rule on\n     earth He hath to thee assigned.\"\n\nThen Masrur carried her to the other end of the sitting-hall and\nbound her eyes and making her sit, stood awaiting a second order:\nwhereupon quoth the Lady Zubaydah, \"O Prince of True Believers,\nwith thy permission, wilt thou not vouchsafe this damsel a\nportion of thy clemency? An thou slay her, 'twere injustice.\"\nQuoth he, \"What is to be done with her?\" and quoth she, \"Forbear\nto slay her and send for her lord. If he be as she describeth him\nin beauty and loveliness, she is excused, and if he be not on\nthis wise then kill her, and this shall be thy plea against\nher.\"[FN#308] Al-Rashid replied, \"No harm in this rede;\" and\ncaused return the damsel to her chamber, saying to her, \"The Lady\nZubaydah saith thus and thus.\" She rejoined, \"God requite her for\nme with good! Indeed, thou dealest equitably, O Commander of the\nFaithful, in this judgment.\" And he retorted, \"Go now to thy\nplace, and tomorrow we will bid them bring thy lord.\" So she\nkissed ground and recited these couplets,\n\n\"I indeed will well for whom love I will: * Let chider chide and\n     let blamer blame:\nAll lives must die at fixt tide and term * But I must die ere my\n     life-term came:\nThen Oh whose love hath afflicted me * Well I will but thy\n     presence in haste I claim.\"\n\nThen she arose and returned to her chamber. Now on the morrow,\nthe Commander of the Faithful sat in his hall of audience and his\nWazir Ja'afar bin Yahya the Barmecide came in to him; whereupon\nhe called to him, saying, \"I would have thee bring me a youth who\nis lately come to Baghdad, hight Sidi Nur al-Din Ali the\nDamascene.\" Quoth Ja'afar, \"Hearing and obeying,\" and going forth\nin quest of the youth, sent to the bazars and Wakalahs and Khans\nfor three successive days, but discovered no trace of him,\nneither happened upon the place of him. So on the fourth day he\npresented himself before the Caliph and said to him, \"O our lord,\nI have sought him these three days, but have not found him.\" Said\nAl-Rashid, \"Make ready letters to Damascus. Peradventure he hath\nreturned to his own land.\" Accordingly Ja'afar wrote a letter and\ndespatched it by a dromedary-courier to the Damascus-city; and\nthey sought him there and found him not. Meanwhile, news was\nbrought that Khorasan had been conquered;[FN#309] whereupon\nAl-Rashid rejoiced and bade decorate Baghdad and release all in\nthe gaol, giving each of them a ducat and a dress. So Ja'afar\napplied himself to the adornment of the city and bade his brother\nAl-Fazl ride to the prison and robe and set free the prisoners.\nAl-Fazl did as his brother commanded and released all save the\nyoung Damascene, who abode still in the Prison of Blood, saying,\n\"There is no Majesty, and there is no Might save in Allah, the\nGlorious, the Great! Verily, we are God's and to Him are we\nreturning.\" Then quoth Al-Fazl to the gaoler, \"Is there any left\nin the prison?\" Quoth he, \"No,\" and Al-Fazl was about to depart,\nwhen Nur al-Din called out to him from within the prison, saying,\n\"O our lord, tarry awhile, for there remaineth none in the prison\nother than I and indeed I am wronged. This is a day of pardon and\nthere is no disputing concerning it.\" Al-Fazl bade release him;\nso they set him free and he gave him a dress and a ducat.\nThereupon the young man went out, bewildered and unknowing\nwhither he should wend, for that he had sojourned in the gaol a\nyear or so and indeed his condition was changed and his favour\nfouled, and he abode walking and turning round, lest Al-Muradi\ncome upon him and cast him into another calamity. When Al-Muradi\nlearnt his release, he betook himself to the Wali and said, \"O\nour lord, we are not assured of our lives from that youth,\nbecause he hath been freed from prison and we fear lest he\ncomplain of us.\" Quoth the Chief, \"How shall we do?\" and quoth\nAl-Muradi, \"I will cast him into a calamity for thee.\" Then he\nceased not to follow the Damascene from place to place till he\ncame up with him in a narrow stead and cul-de-sac; whereupon he\naccosted him and casting a cord about his neck, cried out, \"A\nthief!\" The folk flocked to him from all sides and fell to\nbeating and abusing Nur al-Din,[FN#310] whilst he cried out for\naidance but none aided him, and Al-Muradi kept saying to him,\n\"But yesterday the Commander of the Faithful released thee and\nto-day thou robbest!\" So the hearts of the mob were hardened\nagainst him and again Al-Muradi carried him to the Chief of\nPolice, who bade hew off his hand. Accordingly, the hangman took\nhim and bringing out the knife, proceeded to cut off his hand,\nwhile Al-Muradi said to him, \"Cut and sever the bone and\nfry[FN#311] not in oil the stump for him, so he may lose all his\nblood and we be at rest from him.\" But Ahmad, he who had before\nbeen the cause of his deliverance, sprang up to him and cried, \"O\nfolk, fear Allah in your action with this youth, for that I know\nhis affair, first and last, and he is clear of offence and\nguiltless: he is of the lords of houses,[FN#312] and unless ye\ndesist from him, I will go up to the Commander of the Faithful\nand acquaint him with the case from beginning to end and that the\nyouth is innocent of sin or crime.\" Quoth Al-Muradi, \"Indeed, we\nare not assured from his mischief;\" and quoth Ahmad, \"Set him\nfree and commit him to me and I will warrant you against his\ndoings, for ye shall never see him again after this.\" So they\ndelivered Nur al-Din to him and he took him from their hands and\nsaid to him, \"O youth, have ruth on thyself, for indeed thou hast\nfallen into the hands of these folk twice and if they prevail\nover thee a third time, they will make an end of thee; and I in\ndoing thus with thee, aim at reward for thee and recompense in\nHeaven and answer of prayer.\"[FN#313] So Nur al-Din fell to\nkissing his hand and blessing him said, \"Know that I am a\nstranger in this your city and the completion of kindness is\nbetter than its commencement; wherefore I pray thee of thy favour\nthat thou make perfect to me thy good offices and generosity and\nbring me to the city-gate. So will thy beneficence be\naccomplished unto me and may God Almighty requite thee for me\nwith good!\" Ahmad replied, \"No harm shall betide thee: go; I will\nbear thee company till thou come to thy place of safety.\" And he\nleft him not till he brought him to the city-gate and said to\nhim, \"O youth, go in Allah's guard and return not to the city,\nfor, an they fall in with thee again, they will make an end of\nthee.\" Nur al-Din kissed his hand and going forth the city, gave\nnot over walking, till he came to a mosque that stood in one of\nthe suburbs of Baghdad and entered therein with the night. Now he\nhad with him naught wherewith he might cover himself; so he\nwrapped himself up in one of the mats of the mosque and thus\nabode till dawn, when the Muezzins came and finding him seated in\nsuch case, said to him, \"O youth, what is this plight?\" Said he,\n\"I cast myself on your protection, imploring your defence from a\ncompany of folk who seek to slay me unjustly and wrongously,\nwithout cause.\" And one of the Muezzins said, \"I will protect\nthee; so be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool of tear.\" Then\nhe brought him old clothes and covered him therewith; he also set\nbefore him somewhat of victual and seeing upon him signs of fine\nbreeding, said to him, \"O my son, I grow old and desiring help\nfrom thee, I will do away thy necessity.\" Nur al-Din replied, \"To\nhear is to obey;\" and abode with the old man, who rested and took\nhis ease, while the youth did his service in the mosque,\ncelebrating the praises of Allah and calling the Faithful to\nprayer and lighting the lamps and filling the spout-pots[FN#314]\nand sweeping and cleaning out the place of worship. On this-wise\nit befel the young Damascene; but as regards Sitt al-Milah, the\nLady Zubaydah, the wife of the Commander of the Faithful, made a\nbanquet in her palace and assembled her slave-girls. And the\ndamsel came, weeping-eyed and heavy-hearted, and those present\nblamed her for this, whereupon she recited these couplets,\n\n\"Ye blame the mourner who weeps his woe; * Needs must the mourner\n     sing, weeping sore;\nAn I see not some happy day I'll weep * Brine-tears till followed\n     by gouts of gore.\"\n\nWhen she had made an end of her verses, the Lady Zubaydah bade\neach damsel sing a song, till the turn came round to Sitt\nal-Milah, whereupon she took the lute and tuning it, carolled\nthereto four-and-twenty carols in four-and-twenty modes; then she\nreturned to the first and sang these couplets,\n\n\"The World hath shot me with all her shafts * Departing friends\n     parting-grief t' aby:\nSo in heart the burn of all hearts I bear * And in eyes the\n     tear-drops of every eye.\"\n\nWhen she had made an end of her song, she wept till she garred\nthe bystanders weep and the Lady Zubaydah condoled with her and\nsaid to her, \"Allah upon thee, O Sitt al-Milah, sing us somewhat, so we may hearken to thee.\" The damsel replied, \"Hearing\nand obeying,\" and sang these couplets,\n\n\"People of passion, assemble ye! * This day be the day of our\n     agony:\nThe Raven o' severance croaks at our doors; * Our raven which\n     nigh to us aye see we.\nThe friends we love have appointed us * The grievousest\n     parting-dule to dree.\nRise, by your lives, and let all at once * Fare to seek our\n     friends where their sight we see.\"\n\nThen she threw the lute from her hand and shed tears till she\ndrew tears from the Lady Zubaydah who said to her, \"O Sitt\nal-Milah, he whom thou lovest methinks is not in this world, for\nthe Commander of the Faithful hath sought him in every place, but\nhath not found him.\" Whereupon the damsel arose and kissing the\nPrincess's hands, said to her, \"O my lady, an thou wouldst have\nhim found, I have this night a request to make whereby thou mayst\nwin my need with the Caliph.\" Quoth the Lady, \"And what is it?\"\nand quoth Sitt al-Milah, \"'Tis that thou get me leave to fare\nforth by myself and go round about in quest of him three days,\nfor the adage saith, Whoso keeneth for herself is not like whoso\nis hired to keen![FN#315] An if I find him, I will bring him\nbefore the Commander of the Faithful, so he may do with us what\nhe will, and if I find him not, I shall be cut off from hope of\nhim and the heat of that which is with me will be cooled.\" Quoth\nthe Lady Zubaydah, \"I will not get thee leave from him but for a\nwhole month; so be of good cheer and eyes cool and clear.\"\nWhereat Sitt al-Milah rejoiced and rising, kissed ground before\nher once more and went away to her own place, and right glad was\nshe. As for Zubaydah, she went in to the Caliph and talked with\nhim awhile; then she fell to kissing him between the eyes and on\nhis hand and asked him for that which she had promised to Sitt\nal-Milah, saying, \"O Commander of the Faithful, I doubt me her\nlord is not found in this world; but, an she go about seeking him\nand find him not, her hopes will be cut off and her mind will be\nset at rest and she will sport and laugh; and indeed while she\nnourisheth hope, she will never take the right direction.\" And\nshe ceased not cajoling him till he gave Sitt al-Milah leave to\nfare forth and make search for her lord a month's space and\nordered a riding-mule and an eunuch to attend her and bade the\nprivy purse give her all she needed, were it a thousand dirhams a\nday or even more. So the Lady Zubaydah arose and returning to her\npalace bade summon Sitt al-Milah and, as soon as she came,\nacquainted her with that which had passed; whereupon she kissed\nher hand and thanked her and called down blessings on her. Then\nshe took leave of the Princess and veiling her face with a\nmask,[FN#316] disguised herself;[FN#317] after which she mounted\nthe she-mule and sallying forth, went round about seeking her\nlord in the highways of Baghdad three days' space, but happed on\nno tidings of him; and on the fourth day, she rode forth without\nthe city. Now it was the noon-hour and fierce was the heat, and\nshe was aweary and thirst came upon her. Presently, she reached\nthe mosque of the Shaykh who had lodged the young Damascene, and\ndismounting at the door, said to the old Muezzin, \"O Shaykh, hast\nthou a draught of cold water? Verily, I am overcome with heat and\nthirst.\" Said he, \"'Tis with me in my house.\" So he carried her\nup into his lodging and spreading her a carpet, seated her; after\nwhich he brought her cold water and she drank and said to the\neunuch, \"Go thy ways with the mule and to-morrow come back to me\nhere.\" Accordingly he went away and she slept and rested herself.\nWhen she awoke, she asked the old man, \"O Shaykh, hast thou aught\nof food?\" and he answered, \"O my lady, I have bread and olives.\"\nQuoth she, \"That be food which befitteth only the like of thee.\nAs for me, I will have naught save roast lamb and soups and\nreddened fowls right fat and ducks farcis with all manner\nstuffing of pistachio-nuts and sugar.\" Quoth the Muezzin, \"O my\nlady, I have never heard of this chapter[FN#318] in the Koran,\nnor was it revealed to our lord Mohammed, whom Allah save and\nassain!\"[FN#319] She laughed and said, \"O Shaykh, the matter is\neven as thou sayest; but bring me pen-case and paper.\" So he\nbrought her what she sought and she wrote a note and gave it to\nhim, together with a seal-ring from her finger, saying, \"Go into\nthe city and enquire for Such-an-one the Shroff and give him this\nmy note.\" Accordingly the oldster betook himself to the city, as\nshe bade him, and asked for the money-changer, to whom they\ndirected him. So he gave him ring and writ, seeing which, he\nkissed the letter and breaking it open, read it and apprehended\nits contents. Then he repaired to the bazar and buying all that\nshe bade him, laid it in a porter's crate and made him go with\nthe Shaykh. The old man took the Hamm\ufffdl and went with him to the\nmosque, where he relieved him of his burden and carried the rich\nviands in to Sitt al-Milah. She seated him by her side and they\nate, he and she, of those dainty cates, till they were satisfied,\nwhen the Shaykh rose and removed the food from before her. She\npassed that night in his lodging and when she got up in the\nmorning, she said to him, \"O elder, may I not lack thy kind\noffices for the breakfast! Go to the Shroff and fetch me from him\nthe like of yesterday's food.\" So he arose and betaking himself\nto the money-changer, acquainted him with that which she had\nbidden him. The Shroff brought him all she required and set it on\nthe heads of Hammals; and the Shaykh took them and returned with\nthem to the damsel, when she sat down with him and they ate their\nsufficiency, after which he removed the rest of the meats. Then\nshe took the fruits and the flowers and setting them over against\nherself, wrought them into rings and knots and writs, whilst the\nShaykh looked on at a thing whose like he had never in his life\nseen and rejoiced in the sight. Presently said she to him \"O\nelder, I would fain drink.\" So he arose and brought her a gugglet\nof water; but she cried to him, \"Who said to thee, Fetch that?\"\nQuoth he, \"Saidst thou not to me, I would fain drink?\" and quoth\nshe, \"'I want not this; nay, I want wine, the solace of the soul,\nso haply, O Shaykh, I may refresh myself therewith.\" Exclaimed\nthe old man, \"Allah forfend that strong drink be drunk in my\nhouse, and I a stranger in the land and a Muezzin and an Imam,\nwho leadeth the True Believers in prayer, and a servant of the\nHouse of the Lord of the three Worlds!\" \"Why wilt thou forbid me\nto drink thereof in thy house?\" \"Because 'tis unlawful.\" \"O\nelder, Allah hath forbidden only the eating of blood and\ncarrion[FN#320] and hog's flesh: tell me, are grapes and honey\nlawful or unlawful?\" \"They are lawful.\" \"This is the juice of\ngrapes and the water of honey.\" \"Leave this thy talk, for thou\nshalt never drink wine in my house.\" \"O Shaykh, people eat and\ndrink and enjoy themselves and we are of the number of the folk\nand Allah is indulgent and merciful.\"[FN#321] \"This is a thing\nthat may not be.\" \"Hast thou not heard what the poet saith?\" And\nshe recited these couplets,\n\n\"Cease thou to hear, O Sim'\ufffdn-son,[FN#322] aught save the say of\n     me; * How bitter 'twas to quit the monks and fly the\n     monast'ry!\nWhen, on the F\ufffdte of Palms there stood, amid the hallowed\n     fane,[FN#323] * A pretty Fawn whose lovely pride garred me\n     sore wrong to dree.\nMay Allah bless the night we spent when he to us was third, *\n     While Moslem, Jew, and Nazarene all sported fain and free.\nQuoth he, from out whose locks appeared the gleaming of the morn,\n     * 'Sweet is the wine and sweet the flowers that joy us\n     comrades three.\nThe garden of the garths of Khuld where roll and rail amain, *\n     Rivulets 'neath the myrtle shade and B\ufffdn's fair branchery;\nAnd birds make carol on the boughs and sing in blithest lay, *\n     Yea, this indeed is life, but, ah! how soon it fades away.'\"\n\nShe then asked him, \"O Shaykh, an Moslems and Jews and Nazarenes\ndrink wine, who are we that we should reject it?\" Answered he,\n\"By Allah, O my lady, spare thy pains, for this be a thing\nwhereto I will not hearken.\" When she knew that he would not\nconsent to her desire, she said to him, \"O Shaykh, I am of the\nslave-girls of the Commander of the Faithful and the food waxeth\nheavy on me and if I drink not, I shall die of indigestion, nor\nwilt thou be assured against the issue of my case.[FN#324] As for\nme, I acquit myself of blame towards thee, for that I have bidden\nthee beware of the wrath of the Commander of the Faithful, after\nmaking myself known to thee.\" When the Shaykh heard her words and\nthat wherewith she threatened him, he sprang up and went out,\nperplexed and unknowing what he should do, and there met him a\nJewish man, which was his neighbour, and said to him, \"How cometh\nit that I see thee, O Shaykh, strait of breast? Eke, I hear in\nthy house a noise of talk, such as I am unwont to hear with\nthee.\" Quoth the Muezzin, \"'Tis of a damsel who declareth that\nshe is of the slave-girls of the Commander of the Faithful, Harun\nal-Rashid; and she hath eaten meat and now would drink wine in my\nhouse, but I forbade her. However she asserteth that unless she\ndrink thereof, she will die, and indeed I am bewildered\nconcerning my case.\" Answered the Jew, \"Know, O my neighbour,\nthat the slave-girls of the Commander of the Faithful are used\nto drink wine, and when they eat and drink not, they die; and I\nfear lest happen some mishap to her, when thou wouldst not be\nsafe from the Caliph's fury.\" The Shaykh asked, \"What is to be\ndone?\" and the Jew answered, \"I have old wine that will suit\nher.\" Quoth the Shaykh, \"By the right of neighbourship, deliver\nme from this descent[FN#325] of calamity and let me have that\nwhich is with thee!\" Quoth the Jew, \"Bismillah, in the name of\nAllah,\" and passing to his quarters, brought out a glass flask of\nwine, wherewith the Shaykh returned to Sitt al-Milah. This\npleased her and she cried to him, \"Whence hadst thou this?\" He\nreplied, \"I got it from the Jew, my neighbour: I set forth to him\nmy case with thee and he gave me this.\" Thereupon Sitt al-Milah\nfilled a cup and emptied it; after which she drank a second and a\nthird. Then she crowned the cup a fourth time and handed it to\nthe Shaykh, but he would not accept it from her. However, she\nconjured him, by her own head and that of the Prince of True\nBelievers, that he take the cup from her, till he received it\nfrom her hand and kissed it and would have set it down; but she\nsware him by her life to smell it. Accordingly he smelt it and\nshe said to him, \"How deemest thou?\" Said he, \"I find its smell\nis sweet;\" and she conjured him by the Caliph's life to taste\nthereof. So he put it to his mouth and she rose to him and made\nhim drink; whereupon quoth be, \"O Princess of the Fair,[FN#326]\nthis is none other than good.\" Quoth she, \"So deem I: hath not\nour Lord promised us wine in Paradise?\" He answered, \"Yes! The\nMost High saith, 'And rivers of wine, delicious to the\ndrinkers.'[FN#327] And we will drink it in this world and in the\nnext world.\" She laughed and emptying the cup, gave him to drink,\nand he said, \"O Princess of the Fair, indeed thou art excusable\nin thy love for this.\" Then he hent in hand from her another and\nanother, till he became drunken and his talk waxed great and his\nprattle. The folk of the quarter heard him and assembled under\nthe window; and when the Shaykh was ware of them, he opened the\nwindow and said to them, \"Are ye not ashamed, O pimps? Every one\nin his own house doth whatso he willeth and none hindereth him;\nbut we drink one single day and ye assemble and come, panders\nthat ye are! To-day, wine, and to-morrow business;[FN#328] and\nfrom hour to hour cometh relief.\" So they laughed together and\ndispersed. Then the girl drank till she was drunken, when she\ncalled to mind her lord and wept, and the Shaykh said to her,\n\"What maketh thee weep, O my lady?\" Said she, \"O elder, I am a\nlover and a separated.\" He cried, \"O my lady, what is this love?\"\nCried she, \"And thou, hast thou never been in love?\" He replied,\n\"By Allah, O my lady, never in all my life heard I of this thing,\nnor have I ever known it! Is it of the sons of Adam or of the\nJinn?\" She laughed and said, \"Verily, thou art even as those of\nwhom the poet speaketh, in these couplets,\n\n\"How oft shall they admonish and ye shun this nourishment; * When\n     e'en the shepherd's bidding is obey\ufffdd by his flocks?\nI see you like in shape and form to creatures whom we term *\n     Mankind, but in your acts and deeds you are a sort of\n     ox\"[FN#329]\n\nThe Shaykh laughed at her speech and her verses pleased him. Then\ncried she to him, \"I desire of thee a lute.\" So he arose and\nbrought her a bit of fuel.[FN#330] Quoth she, \"What is that?\" and\nquoth he \"Didst thou not say: Bring me fuel?\" Said she, \"I do not\nwant this,\" and said he, \"What then is it that is hight fuel,\nother than this?\" She laughed and replied, \"The lute is an\ninstrument of music, whereunto I sing.\" Asked he, \"Where is this\nthing found and of whom shall I get it for thee?\" and answered\nshe, \"Of him who gave thee the wine.\" So he arose and betaking\nhimself to his neighbour the Jew, said to him, \"Thou favouredst\nus before with the wine; so now complete thy favours and look me\nout a thing hight lute, which be an instrument for singing; for\nshe seeketh this of me and I know it not.\" Replied the Jew,\n\"Hearkening and obedience,\" and going into his house, brought him\na lute. The old man carried it to Sitt al-Milah, whilst the Jew\ntook his drink and sat by a window adjoining the Shaykh's house,\nso he might hear the singing. The damsel rejoiced, when the old\nman returned to her with the lute, and taking it from him, tuned\nits strings and sang these couplets,\n\n\"Remains not, after you are gone, or trace of you or sign, * But\n     hope to see this parting end and break its lengthy line:\nYou went and by your wending made the whole world desolate; * And\n     none may stand this day in stead to fill the yearning eyne.\nIndeed, you've burdened weakling me, by strength and force of you\n     * With load no hill hath power t'upheave nor yet the plain\n     low li'en:\nAnd I, whenever fain I scent the breeze your land o'erbreathes, *\n     Lose all my wits as though they were bemused with heady\n     wine.\nO folk no light affair is Love for lover woe to dree * Nor easy\n     'tis to satisfy its sorrow and repine.\nI've wandered East and West to hap upon your trace, and when *\n     Spring-camps I find the dwellers cry, 'They've marched,\n     those friends o' thine!'\nNever accustomed me to part these intimates I love; * Nay, when I\n     left them all were wont new meetings to design.\"\n\nNow when she had ended her song, she wept with sore weeping, till\npresently sleep overcame her and she slept. On the morrow, she\nsaid to the Shaykh, \"Get thee to the Shroff and fetch me the\nordinary;\" so he repaired to the money-changer and delivered him\nthe message, whereupon he made ready meat and drink, according to\nhis custom, with which the old man returned to the damsel and\nthey ate their sufficiency. When she had eaten, she sought of him\nwine and he went to the Jew and fetched it. Then the twain sat\ndown and drank; and when she waxed drunken, she took the lute and\nsmiting it, fell a-singing and chanted these couplets,\n\n\"How long ask I the heart, the heart drowned, and eke * Refrain\n     my complaint while I my tear-floods speak?\nThey forbid e'en the phantom to visit me, * (O marvel!) her\n     phantom my couch to seek.\"[FN#331]\n\nAnd when she had made an end of her song, she wept with sore\nweeping. All this time, the young Damascene was listening, and\nnow he likened her voice to the voice of his slave-girl and then\nhe put away from him this thought, and the damsel had no\nknowledge whatever of his presence. Then she broke out again into\nsong and chanted these couplets,\n\n\"Quoth they, 'Forget him! What is he?' To them I cried, * 'Allah\n     forget me when forget I mine adored!'\nNow in this world shall I forget the love o' you? * Heaven grant\n     the thrall may ne'er forget to love his lord!\nI pray that Allah pardon all except thy love * Which, when I meet\n     Him may my bestest plea afford.\"\n\nAfter ending this song she drank three cups and filling the old\nman other three, improvised these couplets,\n\n\"His love he hid which tell-tale tears betrayed; * For burn of\n     coal that 'neath his ribs was laid:\nGiv'n that he seek his joy in spring and flowers * Some day, his\n     spring's the face of dear-loved maid.\nO ye who blame me for who baulks my love! * What sweeter thing\n     than boon to man denayed?\nA sun, yet scorcheth he my very heart! * A moon, but riseth he\n     from breasts a-shade!\"\n\nWhen she had made an end of her song, she threw the lute from her\nhand and wept, whilst the Shaykh wept for her weeping. Then she\nfell down in a fainting fit and presently recovering, crowned the\ncup and drinking it off, gave the elder to drink, after which she\ntook the lute and breaking out into song, chanted these couplets,\n\n\"Thy parting is bestest of woes to my heart, * And changed my\n     case till all sleep it eschewed:\nThe world to my being is desolate; * Then Oh grief! and O\n     lingering solitude!\nMaybe The Ruthful incline thee to me * And join us despite what\n     our foes have sued!\"\n\nThen she wept till her voice rose high and her wailing was\ndiscovered to those without; after which she again began to drink\nand plying the Shaykh with wine, sang these couplets,\n\n\"An they hid thy person from eyen-sight, * They hid not thy name\n     fro' my mindful sprite:\nOr meet me; thy ransom for meeting I'll be[FN#332] * Or fly me;\n     and ransom I'll be for thy flight!\nMine outer speaks for mine inner case, * And mine inner speaks\n     for mine outer plight.\"\n\nWhen she had made an end of her verses, she threw the lute from\nher hand and wept and wailed. Then she slept awhile and presently\nawaking, said, \"O Shaykh, say me, hast thou what we may eat?\" He\nreplied, \"O my lady, I have the rest of the food;\" but she cried,\n\"I will not eat of the orts I have left. Go down to the bazar and\nfetch us what we may eat.\" He rejoined, \"Excuse me, O my lady, I\ncannot rise to my feet, because I am bemused with wine; but with\nme is the servant of the mosque, who is a sharp youth and an\nintelligent. I will call him, so he may buy thee whatso thou\nwantest.\" Asked she, \"Whence hast thou this servant?\" and he\nanswered, \"He is of the people of Damascus.\" When she heard him\nsay \"of the people of Damascus,\" she sobbed such a sob that she\nswooned away; and when she came to herself, she said, \"Woe is me\nfor the people of Damascus and for those who are therein! Call\nhim, O Shaykh, that he may do our need.\" Accordingly, the old man\nput his head forth of the window and called the youth, who came\nto him from the mosque and sought leave to enter. The Muezzin\nbade him come in, and when he appeared before the damsel, he knew\nher and she knew him; whereupon he turned back in bewilderment\nand would have fled at hap-hazard; but she sprang up to him and\nheld him fast, and they embraced and wept together, till they\nfell to the floor in a fainting fit. When the Shaykh saw them in\nthis condition, he feared for himself and fared forth in fright,\nseeing not the way for drunkenness. His neighbour the Jew met him\nand asked him, \"How is it that I behold thee astounded?\" Answered\nthe old man, \"How should I not be astounded, seeing that the\ndamsel who is with me is fallen in love with the mosque servant\nand they have embraced and slipped down in a swoon? Indeed, I\nfear lest the Caliph come to know of this and be wroth with me;\nso tell me thou what is thy device for that wherewith I am\nafflicted in the matter of this damsel.\" Quoth the Jew, \"For the\npresent, take this casting-bottle of rose-water and go forthright\nand sprinkle them therewith: an they be aswoon for this their\nunion and embrace, they will recover, and if otherwise, then take\nto flight.\" The Shaykh snatched the casting-bottle from the Jew\nand going up to the twain, sprinkled their faces, whereupon they\ncame to themselves and fell to relating each to other that which\nthey had suffered, since both had been parted, for the pangs of\nseverance. Nur al-Din also acquainted Sitt al-Milah with that\nwhich he had endured from the folk who would have killed[FN#333]\nhim and utterly annihilated him; and she said to him, \"O my lord,\nlet us for the nonce leave this talk and praise Allah for reunion\nof loves, and all this shall cease from us.\" Then she gave him\nthe cup and he said, \"By Allah, I will on no wise drink it,\nwhilst I am in this case!\" So she drank it off before him and\ntaking the lute, swept the strings and sang these couplets,\n\n\"O absent fro' me and yet present in place, * Thou art far from\n     mine eyes and yet ever nigh!\nThy farness bequeathed me all sorrow and care * And my troublous\n     life can no joy espy:\nLone, forlorn, weeping-eyelidded, miserablest, * I abide for thy\n     sake as though banisht I:\nThen (ah grief o' me!) far thou hast fared from sight * Yet canst\n     no more depart me than apple of eye!\"\n\nWhen she had made an end of her verse, she wept and the young man\nof Damascus, Nur al-Din, wept also. Then she took the lute and\nimprovised these couplets,\n\n\"Well Allah wots I never nam\ufffdd you * But tears o'erbrimming eyes\n     in floods outburst;\nAnd passion raged and pine would do me die, * Yet my heart rested\n     wi' the thought it nurst;\nO eye-light mine, O wish and O my hope! * Your face can never\n     quench mine eyes' hot thirst.\"\n\nWhen Nur al-Din heard these his slave-girl's verses, he fell\na-weeping, while she strained him to her bosom and wiped away his\ntears with her sleeve and questioned him and comforted his mind.\nThen she took the lute and sweeping its strings, played thereon\nwith such performing as would move the staidest to delight and\nsang these couplets,\n\n\"Indeed, what day brings not your sight to me, * That day I\n     rem'mber not as dight to me!\nAnd, when I vainly long on you to look, * My life is lost, Oh\n     life and light o' me!\"\n\nAfter this fashion they fared till the morning, tasting not the\nnourishment of sleep;[FN#334] and when the day lightened, behold\nthe eunuch came with the she-mule and said to Sitt al-Milah, \"The\nCommander of the Faithful calleth for thee.\" So she arose and\ntaking by the hand her lord, committed him to the Shaykh, saying,\n\"This is the deposit of Allah, then thy deposit,[FN#335] till\nthis eunuch cometh to thee; and indeed, O elder, my due to thee\nis the white hand of favour such as filleth the interval betwixt\nheaven and earth.\" Then she mounted the mule and repairing to the\npalace of the Commander of the Faithful, went in to him and\nkissed ground before him. Quoth he to her, as who should make\nmock of her, \"I doubt not but thou hast found thy lord;\" and\nquoth she, \"By thy felicity and the length of thy continuance on\nlife, I have indeed found him!\" Now Al-Rashid was leaning back;\nbut, when he heard this, he sat upright and said to her \"By my\nlife, true?\" She replied, \"Ay, by thy life!\" He said, \"Bring him\ninto my presence, so I may see him;\" but she said, \"O my lord,\nthere have happened to him many hardships and his charms are\nchanged and his favour faded; and indeed the Prince of True\nBelievers vouchsafed me a month; wherefore I will tend him the\nrest of the month and then bring him to do his service to the\nCommander of the Faithful.\" Quoth Al-Rashid, \"Sooth thou sayest:\nthe condition certainly was for a month; but tell me what hath\nbetided him.\" Quoth she, \"O my lord (Allah prolong thy\ncontinuance and make Paradise thy place of returning and thine\nasylum and the fire the abiding-place of thy foes!), when he\npresenteth himself to serve thee, he will assuredly expound to\nthee his case and will name to thee his wrongdoers; and indeed\nthis is an arrear that is due to the Prince of True Believers, by\nwhom may Allah fortify the Faith and vouchsafe him the victory\nover rebel and froward wretch!\" Thereupon he ordered her a fine\nhouse and bade furnish it with carpets and vessels of choice and\ncommanded them to give all she needed. This was done during the\nrest of the day, and when the night came, she sent the eunuch\nwith a suit of clothes and the mule, to fetch Nur al-Din from the\nMuezzin's lodging. So the young man donned the dress and\nmounting, rode to the house, where he abode in comfort and luxury\na full-told month, while she solaced him with four things, the\neating of fowls and the drinking of wine and the sleeping upon\nbrocade and the entering the bath after horizontal\nrefreshment.[FN#336] Furthermore, she brought him six suits of\nlinen stuffs and took to changing his clothes day by day; nor was\nthe appointed time of delay accomplished ere his beauty and\nloveliness returned to him; nay, his favour waxed tenfold fairer\nand he became a seduction to all who looked upon him. One day of\nthe days Al-Rashid bade bring him to the presence; so his\nslave-girl changed his clothes and robing him in sumptuous\nraiment, mounted him on the she-mule. Then he rode to the palace\nand presenting himself before the Caliph, saluted him with the\ngoodliest of salutations and bespake him with Truchman's[FN#337]\nspeech eloquent and deep-thoughted. When Al-Rashid saw him, he\nmarvelled at the seemliness of his semblance and his loquence and\neloquence and asking of him, was told that he was Sitt al-Milah's\nlord; whereupon quoth he, \"Indeed, she is excusable in her love\nfor him, and if we had put her to death wrongfully, as we were\nminded to do, her blood would have been upon our heads.\" Then he\naccosted the young man and entering into discourse with him,\nfound him well-bred, intelligent, clever, quick-witted, generous,\npleasant, elegant, excellent. So he loved him with exceeding love\nand questioned him of his native city and of his sire and of the\ncause of his journey to Baghdad. Nur al-Din acquainted him with\nthat which he would know in the goodliest words and concisest\nphrases; and the Caliph asked him, \"And where hast thou been\nabsent all this while? Verily, we sent after thee to Damascus and\nMosul and all other cities, but happened on no tidings of thee.\"\nAnswered the young man, \"O my lord, there betided thy slave in\nthy capital that which never yet betided any.\" Then he acquainted\nhim with his case, first and last, and told him that which had\nbefallen him of evil from Al-Muradi and the Chief of Police. Now\nwhen Al-Rashid heard this, he was chagrined with sore chagrin and\nwaxed wroth with exceeding wrath and cried, \"Shall this thing\nhappen in a city wherein I am?\" And the H\ufffdshim\ufffd vein [FN#338]\nstarted out between his eyes. Then he bade fetch Ja'afar, and\nwhen he came between his hands, he acquainted him with the\nadventure and said to him, \"Shall this thing come to pass in my\ncity and I have no news of it?\" Thereupon he bade Ja'afar fetch\nall whom the young Damascene had named,and when they came, he\nbade smite their necks: he also summoned him whom they called\nAhmad and who had been the means of the young man's deliverance a\nfirst time and a second, and thanked him and showed him favour\nand bestowed on him a costly robe of honour and made him Chief of\nPolice in his city.[FN#339] Then he sent for the Shaykh, the\nMuezzin, and when the messenger came to him and told him that the\nCommander of the Faithfull summoned him, he feared the\ndenunciation of the damsel and walked with him to the palace,\nfarting for fear as he went, whilst all who passed him by laughed\nat him. When he came into the presence of the Commander of the\nFaithful, he fell a-trembling and his tongue was tied,[FN#340] so\nthat he could not speak. The Caliph smiled at him and said, \"O\nShaykh, thou hast done no offence; so why fearest thou?\" Answered\nthe old man (and indeed he was in the sorest of that which may be\nof fear), \"O my lord, by the virtue of thy pure forefathers,\nindeed I have done naught, and do thou enquire of my manners and\nmorals.\" The Caliph laughed at him and ordering him a thousand\ndinars, bestowed on him a costly robe of honour and made him\nheadman of the Muezzins in his mosque. Then he called Sitt\nal-Milah and said to her, \"The house wherein thou lodgest with\nall it containeth is a largesse to thy lord: so do thou take him\nand depart with him in the safeguard of Allah Almighty; but\nabsent not yourselves from our presence.\" Accordingly she went\nforth with the young Damascene and when she came to the house,\nshe found that the Prince of True Believers had sent them gifts\ngalore and good things in store. As for Nur al-Din, he sent for\nhis father and mother and appointed for himself agents in the\ncity of Damascus, to receive the rent of the houses and gardens\nand Wakalahs and Hammams; and they occupied themseves with\ncollecting that which accrued to him and sending it to him every\nyear. Meanwhile, his father and mother came to him, with that\nwhich they had of monies and merchandise of price and,\nforegathering with their son, found that he was become of the\nchief officers and familiars of the Commander of the Faithful and\nof the number of his sitting-companions and nightly entertainers,\nwherefore they rejoiced in reunion with him and he also rejoiced\nin them. The Caliph assigned them solde and allowances; and as\nfor Nur al-Din, his father brought him those riches and his\nwealth waxed and his estate was stablished, till he became the\nrichest of the folk of his time in Baghdad and left not the\npresence of the Commander of the Faithful or by night or by day.\nHe was vouchsafed issue by Sitt al-Milah, and he ceased not to\nlive the goodliest of lives, he and she and his father and his\nmother, a while of time, till Abu al-Hasan sickened of a sore\nsickness and departed to the mercy of Allah Almighty. Presently,\nhis mother also died and he carried them forth and shrouded them\nand buried and made them expiations and funeral\nceremonies.[FN#341] In due course his children grew up and became\nlike moons, and he reared them in splendour and affection, while\nhis wealth waxed and his case never waned. He ceased not to pay\nfrequent visits to the Commander of the Faithful, he and his\nchildren and his slave-girl Sitt al-Milah, and they abode in all\nsolace of life and prosperity till there came to them the\nDestroyer of delights and the Sunderer of societies; and laud to\nthe Abiding, the Eternal! This is all that hath come down to us\nof their story.\n\n\n\n\n           TALE OF KING INS BIN KAYS AND HIS DAUGHTER\n            WITH THE SON OF KING AL-'ABBAS.[FN#342]\n\n\n\nThere was once, in days of yore and in ages and times long gone\nbefore, in the city of Baghdad, the House of Peace, a king mighty\nof estate, lord of understanding and beneficence and generosity\nand munificence, and he was strong of sultanate and endowed with\nmight and majesty and magnificence. His name was Ins bin Kays bin\nRab\ufffd' al-Shayb\ufffdn\ufffd,[FN#343] and when he took horse, there rode\nabout him riders from the farthest parts of the two\nIraks.[FN#344] Almighty Allah decreed that he should take to wife\na woman hight 'Af\ufffdfah, daughter of Asad al-Sund\ufffdsi, who was\nendowed with beauty and loveliness and brightness and perfect\ngrace and symmetry of shape and stature; her face was like the\ncrescent moon and she had eyes as they were gazelle's eyes and an\naquiline nose like Luna's cymb. She had learned cavalarice and\nthe use of arms and had mastered the sciences of the Arabs; eke\nshe had gotten by heart all the dragomanish[FN#345] tongues and\nindeed she was a ravishment to mankind. She abode with Ins bin\nKays twelve years, during which time he was not blessed with\nchildren by her; so his breast was straitened by reason of the\nfailure of lineage, and he besought his Lord to vouchsafe him a\nson. Accordingly the queen conceived, by permission of Allah\nAlmighty; and when the days of her pregnancy were accomplished,\nshe gave birth to a maid-child, than whom never saw eyes fairer,\nfor that her face was as it were a pearl pure-bright or a lamp\nraying light or a candle gilt with gold or a full moon breaking\ncloudy fold, extolled be He who her from vile water dight and\nmade her to the beholders a delight! When her father saw her in\nthis fashion of loveliness, his reason fled for joy, and when she\ngrew up, he taught her writing and belles-lettres and philosophy\nand all manner of tongues. So she excelled the folk of her time\nand surpassed her peers; and the sons of the kings heard of her\nand all of them longed to look upon her. The first who sought her\nto wife was King Nabh\ufffdn[FN#346] of Mosul, who came to her with a\ngreat company, bringing an hundred she-camels, laden with musk\nand lign-aloes and ambergris and five score loaded with camphor\nand jewels and other hundred laden with silver monies and yet\nother hundred loaded with raiment of silken stuffs, sendal and\nbrocade, besides an hundred slave-girls and a century of choice\nsteeds of swift and generous breeds, completely housed and\naccoutred, as they were brides; and all this he had laid before\nher father, demanding her of him in wedlock. Now King Ins bin\nKays had bound himself by an oath that he would not marry his\ndaughter save to him whom she should choose; so, when King Nabhan\nsought her in marriage, her father went in to her and consulted\nher concerning his affair. She consented not and he repeated to\nNabhan that which she said, whereupon he departed from him. After\nthis came King Bahr\ufffdm, lord of the White Island, with treasures\nricher than the first; but she accepted not of him and he\nreturned disappointed; nor did the kings cease coming to her\nsire, on her account, one after other, from the farthest of the\nlands and the climes, each glorying in bringing more than those\nwho forewent him; but she heeded not any one of them. Presently,\nAl-'Abb\ufffds, son of King Al-'Az\ufffdz, lord of the land of Al-Yaman and\nZab\ufffdd\ufffdn[FN#347] and Meccah (which Allah increase in honour and\nbrightness and beauty!) heard of her; and he was of the great\nones of Meccah and Al-Hij\ufffdz,[FN#348] and was a youth without hair\non his side-face. So he presented himself one day in his sire's\nassembly, whereupon the folk made way for him and the king seated\nhim on a chair of red gold, crusted with pearls and gems. The\nPrince sat, with his head bowed ground-wards, and spake not to\nany: whereby his father knew that his breast was straitened and\nbade the cup-companions and men of wit relate marvellous\nhistories, such as beseem the sessions of kings; nor was there\none of them but spoke forth the goodliest of that which was with\nhim; but Al-'Abb\ufffds still abode with his head bowed down. Then the\nking bade his sitting-companions withdraw, and when the chamber\nwas private, he looked at his son and said to him, \"By Allah,\nthou cheerest me with thy coming in to me and chagrinest me for\nthat thou payest no heed to any of the familiars nor of the\ncup-companions. What is the cause of this?\" Answered the Prince,\n\"O my papa, I have heard tell that in the land of Al-Ir\ufffdk is a\nwoman of the daughters of the kings, and her father is called\nKing Ins bin Kays, lord of Baghdad; she is famed for beauty and\nloveliness and brightness and perfect grace, and indeed many of\nthe kings have sought her in marriage; but her soul consented not\nunto any one of them. Wherefore my thought prompteth me to travel\nherwards, for that my heart cleaveth to her, and I beseech thee\nsuffer me to go to her.\" His sire replied, \"O my son, thou\nknowest that I have none other than thyself of children and thou\nart the coolth of mine eyes and the fruit of my vitals; nay, I\ncannot brook to be parted from thee a single hour and I purpose\nto seat thee on the throne of the kingship and espouse thee to\none of the daughters of the kings, who shall be fairer than she.\"\nAl-Abbas gave ear to his father's word and dared not gainsay him;\nwherefore he abode with him awhile, whilst the love-fire raged in\nhis vitals. Then the king took rede with himself to build his son\na Hammam and adorn it with various paintings, so he might display\nit to him and divert him with the sight thereof, to the intent\nthat his body might be solaced thereby and that the accident of\ntravel might cease from him and he be turned from his purpose of\nremoval from his parents. Presently he addressed himself to the\nbuilding of the bath and assembling architects and artisans from\nall his cities and citadels and islands, assigned them a\nfoundation-site and marked out its boundaries. Then the workmen\noccupied themselves with the building of the Hammam and the\nordinance and adornment of its cabinets and roofs. They used\npaints and precious minerals of all kinds, according to the\ncontrast of their colours, red and green and blue and yellow and\nwhat not else of all manner tincts; and each artisan wrought at\nhis craft and each painter at his art, whilst the rest of the\nfolk busied themselves with transporting thither vari-coloured\nstones. One day, as the Master-painter wrought at his work, there\ncame in to him a poor man, who looked long upon him and observed\nhis mystery; whereupon quoth the artist to him, \"Knowest thou\naught of painting?\" Quoth the stranger, \"Yes;\" so he gave him\ntools and paints and said to him, \"Limn for us a rare semblance.\"\nAccordingly the pauper stranger entered one of the bath-chambers\nand drew on its walls a double border, which he adorned on both\nsides, after a fashion than which eyes never saw a fairer.\nMoreover, amiddlemost the chamber he limned a picture to which\nthere lacked but the breath,[FN#349] and it was the portraiture\nof Mariyah, daughter to the king of Baghdad. Then, when he had\nfinished the portrait, he went his way and told none of what he\nhad done, nor knew any wight the chambers and doors of the bath\nand the adornment and ordinance thereof. Presently the chief\nartisan came to the palace and sought audience of the king who\nbade admit him. So he entered and kissing the earth, saluted him\nwith a salam beseeming Sultans and said, \"O king of the time and\nlord of the age and the tide, may prosperity endure to thee and\nacceptance and eke thy degree over all the kings both morning and\nevening[FN#350] exalted be! The work of the bath is accomplished,\nby the king's fair fortune and the purity of his purpose, and\nindeed, we have done all that behoved us and there remaineth but\nthat which behoveth the king.\" Al-Aziz ordered him a costly robe\nof honour and expended monies galore, giving unto each who had\nwroughten after the measure of his work. Then he assembled in the\nHammam all the Lords of his realm, Emirs and Wazirs and\nChamberlains and Nabobs, and the chief officers of his kingdom\nand household, and sending for his son Al-Abbas, said to him, \"O\nmy son, I have builded thee a bath, wherein thou mayst take thy\npleasance; so enter that thou mayst see it and divert thyself by\ngazing upon it and viewing the beauty of its ordinance and\ndecoration.\" \"With love and gladness,\" replied the Prince and\nentered the bath, he and the king and the folk about them, so\nthey might divert themselves with viewing that which the\nworkmen's hands had worked. Al-Abbas went in and passed from\nplace to place and chamber to chamber, till he came to the room\naforesaid and espied the portrait of Mariyah, whereupon he fell\ndown in a fainting-fit and the workmen went to his father and\nsaid to him, \"Thy son Al-Abbas hath swooned away.\" So the king\ncame and finding his son cast down, seated himself at his head\nand bathed his face with rose-water. After awhile he revived and\nthe king said to him, \"I seek refuge with Allah for thee, O my\nson! What accident hath befallen thee?\" The Prince replied, \"O my\nfather, I did but look on yonder picture and it bequeathed me a\nthousand qualms and there befel me that which thou beholdest.\"\nTherewith the king bade fetch the Master-painter, and when he\nstood before him, he said to him, \"Tell me of yonder portrait and\nwhat girl is this of the daughters of the kings; else I will take\nthy head.\" Said the painter, \"By Allah, O king, I limned it not,\nneither know I who she is; but there came to me a poor man and\nlooked hard at me. So I asked him, Knowest thou the art of\npainting? and he answered, Yes. Whereupon I gave him the gear and\nsaid to him, Limn for us a rare semblance. Accordingly he painted\nyonder portrait and went away and I wot him not neither have I\never set eyes on him save that day.\" Hearing this, the king\nordered all his officers to go round about in the thoroughfares\nand colleges and to bring before him all strangers they found\nthere. So they went forth and brought him much people, amongst\nwhom was the pauper who had painted the portrait. When they came\ninto the presence, the Sultan bade the crier make public\nproclamation that whoso wrought the portrait should discover\nhimself and have whatso he wished. Thereupon the poor man came\nforward and kissing the ground before the king, said to him, \"O\nking of the age, I am he who limned yonder likeness.\" Quoth\nAl-Aziz, \"And knowest thou who she is?\" and quoth the other,\n\"Yes, this is the portrait of Mariyah, daughter of the king of\nBaghdad.\" The king ordered him a robe of honour and a slave-girl\nand he went his way. Then said Al-Abbas, \"O my papa, give me\nleave to seek her, so I may look upon her: else shall I farewell\nthe world, withouten fail.\" The king his father wept and\nanswered, \"O my son, I builded thee a Hammam, that it might turn\nthee from leaving me, and behold, it hath been the cause of thy\ngoing forth; but the behest of Allah is a determinate\ndecree.\"[FN#351] Then he wept again and Al-Abbas said to him,\n\"Fear not for me, for thou knowest my prowess and puissance in\nreturning answers in the assemblies of the land and my good\nbreeding and accomplishments together with my skill in rhetoric;\nand indeed for him whose father thou art and whom thou hast\nreared and bred and in whom thou hast united praiseworthy\nqualities, the repute whereof hath traversed the East and the\nWest, thou needest not fear aught, more especially as I purpose\nbut to seek pleasuring and return to thee, an it be the will of\nAllah Almighty.\" Quoth the king, \"Whom wilt thou take with thee\nof attendants and what of monies?\" Replied Al-Abbas, \"O my papa,\nI have no need of horses or camels or weapons, for I purpose not\nwarfare, and I will have none go forth with me save my page 'Amir\nand no more.\" Now as he and his father were thus engaged in talk,\nin came his mother and caught hold of him; and he said to her,\n\"Allah upon thee, let me gang my gait and strive not to divert me\nfrom what purpose I have purposed, for needs must I go.\" She\nreplied, \"O my son, if it must be so and there be no help for it,\nswear to me that thou wilt not be absent from me more than a\nyear.\" And he sware to her. Then he entered his father's\ntreasuries and took therefrom what he would of jewels and\njacinths and everything weighty of worth and light of load: he\nalso bade his servant Amir saddle him two steeds and the like for\nhimself, and whenas the night beset his back,[FN#352] he rose\nfrom his couch and mounting his horse, set out for Baghdad, he\nand Amir, whilst the page knew not whither he intended.[FN#353]\nHe gave not over going and the journey was joyous to him, till\nthey came to a goodly land, abounding in birds and wild beasts,\nwhereupon Al-Abbas started a gazelle and shot it with a shaft.\nThen he dismounted and cutting its throat, said to his servant,\n\"Alight thou and skin it and carry it to the water.\" Amir\nanswered him with \"Hearkening and obedience\" and going down to\nthe water, built a fire and broiled the gazelle's flesh. Then\nthey ate their fill and drank of the water, after which they\nmounted again and fared on with diligent faring, and Amir still\nunknowing whither Al-Abbas was minded to wend. So he said to him,\n\"O my lord, I conjure thee by Allah of All-might, wilt thou not\ntell me whither thou intendest?\" Al-Abbas looked at him and in\nreply improvised these couplets,\n\n\"In my vitals are fires of desire and repine; * And naught I\n     reply when they flare on high:\nBaghdad-wards I hie me on life-and-death work, * Loving one who\n     distorts my right judgment awry:\nA swift camel under me shortcuts the wold * And deem it a cloud\n     all who nearhand espy:\nO '\ufffdmir make haste after model of her * Who would heal mine ill\n     and Love's cup drain dry:\nFor the leven of love burns the vitals of me; * So with me seek\n     my tribe and stint all reply.\"\n\nWhen Amir heard his lord's verses, he knew that he was a slave of\nlove and that she whom he loved abode in Baghdad. Then they fared\non night and day, traversing plain and stony way, till they\nsighted Baghdad and lighted down in its environs[FN#354] and\nthere lay their night. When they arose in the morning, they\nremoved to the bank of the Tigris where they encamped and\nsojourned a second day and a third. As they abode thus on the\nfourth day, behold, a company of folk giving their beasts the\nrein and crying aloud and saying, \"Quick! Quick! Haste to our\nrescue, Ho thou the King!\" Therewith the King's chamberlains and\nofficers accosted them and said, \"What is behind you and what\nhath betided you?\" Quoth they, \"Bring us before the King.\" So\nthey carried them to Ins bin Kays; and when they saw him, they\nsaid to him, \"O king, unless thou succour us, we are dead men;\nfor that we are a folk of the Ban\ufffd Shayb\ufffdn,[FN#355] who have\ntaken up our abode in the parts of Bassorah, and Hodhayfah the\nwild Arab hath come down on us with his steeds and his men and\nhath slain our horsemen and carried off our women and children;\nnor was one saved of the tribe but he who fled; wherefore we\ncrave help first by Allah Almighty, then by thy life.\" When the\nking heard their speech, he bade the crier proclaim in the\nhighways of the city that the troops should busk them to march\nand that the horsemen should mount and the footmen fare forth;\nnor was it but the twinkling of the eye ere the kettle-drums beat\nand the trumpets blared; and scarce was the forenoon of the day\npassed when the city was blocked with horse and foot. Presently,\nthe king reviewed them and behold, they were four-and-twenty\nthousand in number, cavalry and infantry. He bade them go forth\nto the enemy and gave the command of them to Sa'ad ibn al-W\ufffdkid\ufffd,\na doughty cavalier and a dauntless champion; so the horsemen set\nout and fared on along the Tigris-bank. Al-Abbas, son of King\nAl-Aziz, looked at them and saw the flags flaunting and the\nstandards stirring and heard the kettle-drums beating; so he bade\nhis page saddle him a blood-steed and look to the surcingles and\nbring him his harness of war, for indeed horsemanship[FN#356] was\nrooted in his heart. Quoth Amir, \"And indeed I saw Al-Abbas his\neyes waxed red and the hair of his hands on end.\" So he mounted\nhis charger, whilst Amir also bestrode a destrier, and they went\nforth with the commando and fared on two days. On the third day,\nafter the hour of the mid-afternoon prayer, they came in sight of\nthe foe and the two armies met and the two ranks joined in fight.\nThe strife raged amain and sore was the strain, whilst the dust\nrose in clouds and hung in vaulted shrouds, so that all eyes were\nblinded; and they ceased not from the battle till the night\novertook them,[FN#357] when the two hosts drew off from the\nmellay and passed the night, perplexed concerning themselves.\nWhen Allah caused the morning to morrow, the two hosts were\naligned in line and their thousands fixed their eyne and the\ntroops stood looking one at other. Then sallied forth Al-H\ufffdris\nibn Sa'ad between the two lines and played with his lance and\ncried out and improvised these couplets,\n\n\"You are in every way this day our prey; * And ever we pray\ufffdd\n     your sight to see:\nThe Ruthful drave you Hodhayfah-wards * To the Brave, the Lion\n     who sways the free:\nSay, amid you's a man who would heal his ills, * With whose lust\n     of battle shrewd blows agree?\nThen by Allah meet me who come to you * And whoso is wronged\n     shall the wronger be.\"[FN#358]\n\nThereupon there sallied forth to him Zuhayr bin Hab\ufffdb, and they\nwheeled about and wiled a while, then they exchanged strokes.\nAl-Haris forewent his foe in smiting and stretched him weltering\nin his gore; whereupon Hodhayfah cried out to him, \"Gifted of\nAllah[FN#359] art thou, O Haris! Call out another of them.\" So he\ncried aloud, \"I say, who be a champion?\" But they of Baghdad held\nback from him; and when it appeared to Al-Haris that\nconsternation was amongst them, he charged down upon them and\noverrolled the first of them upon the last of them and slew of\nthem twelve men. Then the evening caught him and the Baghdadis\nbegan addressing themselves to flight. No sooner had the morning\nmorrowed than they found themselves reduced to a fourth part of\ntheir number and there was not one of them had dismounted from\nhis horse. Wherefore they made sure of destruction and Hodhayfah\nrushed out between the two lines (now he was reckoned good for a\nthousand knights) and cried out, \"Harkye, my masters of Baghdad!\nLet none come forth to me but your Emir, so I may talk with him\nand he with me; and he shall meet me in combat singular and I\nwill meet him, and may he who is clear of offence come off safe.\"\nThen he repeated his words and said, \"How is it I see your Emir\nrefuse me a reply?\" But Sa'ad, the Emir of the army of Baghdad,\nanswered him not, and indeed his teeth chattered in his mouth,\nwhen he heard him summon him to the duello. Now when Al-Abbas\nheard Hodhayfah's challenge and saw Sa'ad in this case, he came\nup to the Emir and asked him, \"Wilt thou suffer me to answer him\nand I will be thy substitute in replying him and in monomachy\nwith him and will make my life thy sacrifice?\" Sa'ad looked at\nhim and seeing knighthood shining from between his eyes, said to\nhim, \"O youth, by the virtue of Mustaf\ufffd the Chosen Prophet (whom\nAllah save and assain), tell me who thou art and whence thou\ncomest to bring us victory.\"[FN#360] Quoth the Prince, \"This is\nno place for questioning;\" and quoth Sa'ad to him, \"O Knight, up\nand at Hodhayfah! Yet, if his Satan prove too strong for thee,\nafflict not thyself on thy youth.\"[FN#361] Al-Abbas cried, \"Allah\nis He of whom help is to be sought;\"[FN#362] and, taking his\narms, fortified his purpose and went down into the field, as he\nwere a fort of the forts or a mountain's contrefort. Thereupon\nHodhayfah cried out to him, saying, \"Haste thee not, O youth! Who\nart thou of the folk?\" He replied, \"I am Sa'ad ibn al-Wakidi,\ncommander of the host of King Ins, and but for thy pride in\nchallenging me, I had not come forth to thee; for thou art no\npeer for me to front nor as mine equal dost thou count nor canst\nthou bear my brunt. Wherefore get thee ready for the last\nmarch[FN#363] seeing that there abideth but a little of thy\nlife.\" When Hodhayfah heard this speech, he threw himself\nbackwards,[FN#364] as if in mockery of him, whereat Al-Abbas was\nwroth and called out to him, saying, \"O Hodhayfah, guard thyself\nagainst me.\" Then he rushed upon him, as he were a swooper of the\nJinn,[FN#365] and Hodhayfah met him and they wheeled about a long\nwhile. Presently, Al-Abbas cried out at Hodhayfah a cry which\nastounded him and struck him a stroke, saying, \"Take this from\nthe hand of a brave who feareth not the like of thee.\" Hodhayfah\nmet the sabre-sway with his shield, thinking to ward it off from\nhim; but the blade shore the target in sunder and descending upon\nhis shoulder, came forth gleaming from the tendons of his throat\nand severed his arm at the armpit; whereupon he fell down,\nwallowing in his blood, and Al-Abbas turned upon his host; not\nhad the sun departed the dome of the welkin ere Hodhayfah's army\nwas in full flight before Al-Abbas and the saddles were empty of\nmen. Quoth Sa'ad, \"By the virtue of Mustafa the Chosen Prophet,\nwhom Allah save and assain, I saw Al-Abbas with the blood upon\nhis saddle-pads, in clots like camels' livers, smiting with the\nsword right and left, till he scattered them abroad in every\ngorge and wold; and when he hied him back to the camp, the men of\nBaghdad were fearful of him.\" But as soon as they saw this\nvictory which had betided them over their foes, they turned back\nand gathering together the weapons and treasures and horses of\nthose they had slain, returned to Baghdad, victorious, and all by\nthe knightly valour of Al-Abbas. As for Sa'ad, he foregathered\nwith his lord, and they fared on in company till they came to the\nplace where Al-Abbas had taken horse, whereupon the Prince\ndismounted from his charger and Sa'ad said to him, \"O youth,\nwherefore alightest thou in other than thy place? Indeed, thy\nrights be incumbent upon us and upon our Sultan; so go thou with\nus to the dwellings, that we may ransom thee with our souls.\"\nReplied Al-Abbas, \"O Emir Sa'ad, from this place I took horse\nwith thee and herein is my lodging. So, Allah upon thee, mention\nnot me to the king, but make as if thou hadst never seen me\nbecause I am a stranger in the land.\" So saying, he turned away\nfrom him and Sa'ad fared on to his palace, where he found all the\ncourtiers in attendance on the king and recounting to him that\nwhich had betided them with Al-Abbas. Quoth the king, \"Where is\nhe?\" and quoth they, \"He is with the Emir Sa'ad.\" So, when the\nEmir entered, the king looked, but found none with him; and\nSa'ad, seeing at a glance that he longed to look upon the youth,\ncried out to him, saying, \"Allah prolong the king's days! Indeed,\nhe refuseth to present himself before thee, without order or\nleave.\" Asked the king, \"O Sa'ad, whence cometh this man?\" and\nthe Emir answered, \"O my lord, I know not; but he is a youth fair\nof favour, amiable of aspect, accomplished in address, ready of\nrepartee, and valour shineth from between his eyes.\" Quoth the\nking, \"O Sa'ad, fetch him to me, for indeed thou describest to me\nat full length a mighty matter.\"[FN#366] And he answered, saying,\n\"By Allah, O my lord, hadst thou but seen our case with\nHodhayfah, when he challenged me to the field of fight and the\nstead of cut-and-thrust and I held back from doing battle with\nhim! Then, as I thought to go forth to him, behold, a knight gave\nloose to his bridle-rein and called out to me, saying, 'O Sa'ad,\nwilt thou suffer me to be thy substitute in waging war with him\nand I will ransom thee with myself?' and quoth I, 'By Allah, O\nyouth, whence comest thou?' and quoth he, 'This be no time for\nthy questions, while Hodhayfah standeth awaiting thee.'\"\nThereupon he repeated to the king all that had passed between\nhimself and Al-Abbas from first to last; whereat cried Ins bin\nKays, \"Bring him to me in haste, so we may learn his tidings and\nquestion him of his case.\" \"'Tis well,\" replied Sa'ad, and going\nforth of the king's presence, repaired to his own house, where he\ndoffed his war-harness and took rest for himself. On this wise\nfared it with the Emir Sa'ad, but as regards Al-Abbas, when he\ndismounted from his destrier, he doffed his war-gear and reposed\nhimself awhile; after which he brought out a body-dress of\nVenetian[FN#367] silk and a gown of green damask and donning\nthem, bound about his head a turband of Damietta stuff and zoned\nhis waist with a kerchief. Then he went out a-walking in the\nhighways of Baghdad and fared on till he came to the bazar of the\ntraders. There he found a merchant, with chess before him; so the\nPrince stood watching him, and presently the other looked up at\nhim and asked him, \"O youth, what wilt thou bet upon the game?\"\nHe answered, \"Be it thine to decide.\" Said the merchant, \"Then be\nit an hundred dinars,\" and Al-Abbas consented to him; whereupon\nquoth he, \"Produce the money, O youth, so the game may be fairly\nstablished.\" Accordingly Al-Abbas brought out a satin purse,\nwherein were a thousand dinars, and laid down an hundred dinars\ntherefrom on the edge of the carpet, whilst the merchant produced\nthe like, and indeed his reason fled for joy when he saw the gold\nin possession of Al-Abbas. The folk flocked about them, to divert\nthemselves with watching the play, and they called the bystanders\nto witness the wager and after the stakes were duly staked, the\ntwain fell a-playing. Al-Abbas forebore the merchant, so he might\nlead him on, and dallied with him a full hour; and the merchant\nwon and took of him the hundred dinars. Then said the Prince,\n\"Wilt thou play another partie?\" and the other said, \"O youth, I\nwill not play again, save for a thousand dinars.\" Quoth the\nyouth, 'Whatsoever thou stakest, I will match thy stake with its\nlike.\" So the merchant brought out a thousand dinars and the\nPrince covered them with other thousand. Then the game began, but\nAl-Abbas was not long with him ere he beat him in the house of\nthe elephant[FN#368] nor did he cease to do thus till he had\nbeaten him four times and won of him four thousand dinars. This\nwas all the merchant had of money; so he said, \"O youth, I will\nplay thee another game for the shop.\" Now the value of the shop\nwas four thousand dinars; so they played and Al-Ahbas beat him\nand won his shop, with whatso was therein; upon which the other\narose, shaking his clothes,[FN#369] and said to him, \"Up, O\nyouth, and take thy shop.\" Accordingly Al-Abbas arose and\nrepairing to the shop, took possession thereof, after which he\nreturned to the place where he had left his servant 'Amir, and\nfound there the Emir Sa'ad, who was come to bid him to the\npresence of the king. The Prince consented to this and\naccompanied him till they came before King Ins bin Kays,\nwhereupon he kissed the ground and saluted him and\nexaggerated[FN#370] the salutation. So the king asked him,\n\"Whence comest thou, O youth, and whither goest thou?\" and he\nanswered, \"I come from Al-Yaman.\" Then said the king, \"Hast thou\na need we may fulfil to thee; for indeed thou hast strong claims\nto our favour after that which thou didst in the matter of\nHodhayfah and his folk.\" And he commanded to cast over him a\nmantle of Egyptian satin, worth an hundred dinars. He also bade\nhis treasurer give him a thousand dinars and said to him, \"O\nyouth, take this in part of that which thou deservest of us; and\nif thou prolong thy sojourn with us, we will give thee slaves and\nservants.\" Al-Abbas kissed ground and said, \"O king, Allah grant\nthee abiding weal, I deserve not all this.\" Then he put his hand\nto his pouch and pulling out two caskets of gold, in each of\nwhich were rubies whose value none could estimate, gave them to\nthe king, saying, \"O king, Allah cause thy welfare to endure, I\nconjure thee by that which the Almighty hath vouchsafed thee,\nheal my heart by accepting these two caskets, even as I have\naccepted thy present.\" So the king accepted the two caskets and\nAl-Abbas took his leave and went away to the bazar. Now when the\nmerchants saw him, they accosted him and said, \"O youth, wilt\nthou not open thy shop?\" As they were addressing him, up came a\nwoman, having with her a boy bare of head, and stood looking at\nAl-Abbas, till he turned to her, when she said to him, \"O youth,\nI conjure thee by Allah, look at this boy and have ruth on him,\nfor that his father hath forgotten his skull-cap in the shop he\nlost to thee; so, an thou see fit to give it him, thy reward be\nwith Allah! For indeed the child maketh our hearts ache with his\nexcessive weeping, and the Lord be witness for us that, had they\nleft us aught wherewith to buy him a cap in its stead, we had not\nsought it of thee.\" Replied Al-Abbas, \"O adornment of\nwomankind,[FN#371] indeed, thou bespeakest me with thy fair\nspeech and supplicatest me with thy goodly words! But bring me\nthy husband.\" So she went and fetched the merchant, whilst a\ncrowd collected to see what Al-Abbas would do. When the man came,\nhe returned him the gold he had won of him, art and part, and\ndelivered him the keys of the shop, saying, \"Requite us with thy\npious prayers.\" Therewith the woman came up to him and kissed his\nfeet, and in like fashion did the merchant her husband: and all\nwho were present blessed him, and there was no talk but of\nAl-Abbas. Thus fared it with him; but as for the merchant, he\nbought him a head of sheep[FN#372] and slaughtering it, roasted\nit and dressed birds and other meats of various kinds and colours\nand purchased dessert and sweetmeats and fresh fruits; then he\nrepaired to Al-Abbas and conjured him to accept of his\nhospitality and visit his home and eat of his provaunt. The\nPrince consented to his wishes and went with him till they came\nto his house, when the merchant bade him enter: so Al-Abbas went\nin and saw a goodly house, wherein was a handsome saloon, with a\nvaulted ceiling. When he entered the saloon, he found that the\nmerchant had made ready food and dessert and perfumes, such as\nmay not be described; and indeed he had adorned the table with\nsweet-scented flowers and sprinkled musk and rose-water upon the\nfood; and he had smeared the saloon walls with ambergris and had\nburned aloes-wood therein and Nadd. Presently, Al-Abbas looked\nout of the window of the saloon and saw by its side a house of\ngoodly ordinance, tall of base and wide of space, with rooms\nmanifold and two upper stories crowning the whole; but therein\nwas no sign of inhabitants. So he said to the merchant, \"Verily,\nthou exaggeratest in doing us honour; but, by Allah, I will not\neat of thy meat until thou tell me what hath caused the voidance\nof yonder house.\" Said he, \"O my lord, that was Al-Ghitrif's\nhouse and he passed away to the mercy of the Almighty and left no\nheir save myself; whereupon the mansion became mine, and by\nAllah, an thou have a mind to sojourn in Baghdad, take up thine\nabode in this house, whereby thou mayst be in my neighbourhood;\nfor that verily my heart inclineth unto thee with affection and I\nwould have thee never absent from mine eyes, so I may still have\nmy fill of thee and hearken to thy speech.\" Al-Abbas thanked him\nand said to him, \"By Allah, thou art indeed friendly in thy\nconverse and thou exaggeratest in thy discourse, and needs must I\nsojourn in Baghdad. As for the house, if it please thee to lodge\nme, I will abide therein; so accept of me its price.\" Therewith\nhe put hand to his pouch and bringing out from it three hundred\ndinars, gave them to the merchant, who said in himself, \"Unless I\ntake his dirhams, he will not darken my doors.\" So he pocketed\nthe monies and sold him the mansion, taking witnesses against\nhimself of the sale. Then he arose and set food before Al-Abbas\nand they sat down to his good things; after which he brought him\ndessert and sweetmeats whereof they ate their sufficiency, and\nwhen the tables were removed they washed their hands with musked\nrose-water and willow-water. Then the merchant brought Al-Abbas a\nnapkin scented with the smoke of aloes-wood, on which he wiped\nhis right hand, and said to him, \"O my lord, the house is become\nthy house; so bid thy page transport thither the horses and arms\nand stuffs.\" The Prince did this and the merchant rejoiced in his\nneighbourhood and left him not night nor day,[FN#373] so that\nAl-Abbas said to him, \"By the Lord, we distract thee from thy\nlivelihood.\" He replied, \"Allah upon thee, O my lord, name not to\nme aught of this, or thou wilt break my heart, for the best of\ntraffic art thou and the best of livelihood.\" So there befel\nstraight friendship between them and all ceremony was laid aside.\nMeanwhile[FN#374] the king said to his Wazir, \"How shall we do in\nthe matter of yonder youth, the Yam\ufffdni, on whom we thought to\nconfer gifts, but he hath gifted us with tenfold our largesse and\nmore, and we know not an he be a sojourner with us or not?\" Then\nhe went into the Harim and gave the rubies to his wife Afifah,\nwho asked him, \"What is the worth of these with thee and with\nother of the kings?\" Quoth he, \"They are not to be found save\nwith the greatest of sovrans nor can any price them with monies.\"\nQuoth she, \"Whence gottest thou them?\" So he recounted to her the\nstory of Al-Abbas from beginning to end, and she said, \"By Allah,\nthe claims of honour are imperative on us and the King hath\nfallen short of his devoir; for that we have not seen him bid the\nyouth to his assembly, nor hath he seated him on his left hand.\"\nWhen the king heard his wife's words, it was as if he had been\nasleep and awoke; so he went forth the Harim and bade kill\npoultry and dress meats of every kind and colour. Moreover, he\nassembled all his courtiers and let bring sweetmeats and dessert\nand all that beseemeth the tables of kings. Then he adorned his\npalace and despatched after Al-Abbas a man of the chief officers\nof his household, who found him coming forth of the Hammam, clad\nin a jerkin[FN#375] of fine goats' hair and over it a Baghd\ufffddi\nscarf; his waist was girt with a Rustaki[FN#376] kerchief and on\nhis head he wore a light turband of Damietta[FN#377] stuff. The\nmessenger wished him joy of the bath and exaggerated in doing him\nhonour: then he said to him, \"The king biddeth thee in\nweal.\"[FN#378] \"To hear is to obey,\" quoth Al-Abbas and\naccompanied the officer to the king's palace. Now Afifah and her\ndaughter Mariyah were behind the curtain, both looking at him;\nand when he came before the sovran he saluted him and greeted him\nwith the greeting of kings, whilst all present gazed at him and\nat his beauty and loveliness and perfect grace. The king seated\nhim at the head of the table; and when Afifah saw him and\nconsidered him straitly, she said, \"By the virtue of Mohammed,\nprince of the Apostles, this youth is of the sons of the kings\nand cometh not to these parts save for some noble purpose!\" Then\nshe looked at Mariyah and saw that her favour was changed, and\nindeed her eye-balls were as dead in her face and she turned not\nher gaze from Al-Abbas a twinkling of the eyes, for that the love\nof him had sunk deep into her heart. When the queen saw what had\nbefallen her daughter, she feared for her from reproach\nconcerning Al-Abbas; so she shut the casement-wicket that the\nPrincess might not look upon him any more. Now there was a\npavilion set apart for Mariyah, and therein were boudoirs and\nbowers, balconies and lattices, and she had with her a nurse, who\nserved her as is the fashion with the daughters of the Kings.\nWhen the banquet was ended and the folk had dispersed, the King\nsaid to Al-Abbas, \"I would fain have thee abide with me and I\nwill buy thee a mansion, so haply we may requite thee for thy\nhigh services; and indeed imperative upon us is thy due and\nmagnified in our eyes is thy work; and soothly we have fallen\nshort of thy deserts in the matter of distance.\"[FN#379] When the\nyouth heard the king's speech, he rose and sat down[FN#380] and\nkissing ground, returned thanks for his bounty and said, \"I am\nthe King's thrall, wheresoever I may be, and under his eye.\" Then\nhe told him the tale of the merchant and the manner of the buying\nof the house, and the king said, \"In very truth I would fain have\nhad thee in my neighbourhood and by side of me.\" Presently\nAl-Abbas took leave of the king and went away to his own house.\nNow it chanced that he passed under the palace of Mariyah, the\nking's daughter, and she was sitting at a casement. He happened\nto look round and his eyes met those of the Princess, whereupon\nhis wit departed and he was ready to swoon away, whilst his\ncolour changed, and he said, \"Verily, we are Allah's and unto Him\nare we returning!\" But he feared for himself lest severance\nbetide him; so he concealed his secret and discovered not his\ncase to any of the creatures of Allah Almighty. When he reached\nhis quarters, his page Amir said to him, \"I seek refuge for thee\nwith Allah, O my lord, from change of colour! Hath there betided\nthee a pain from the Lord of All-might or aught of vexation? In\ngood sooth, sickness hath an end and patience doeth away\ntrouble.\" But the Prince returned him no answer. Then he brought\nout ink-case[FN#381] and paper and wrote these couplets:\n\nI cry (and mine's a frame that pines alw\ufffdy), * A mind which fires\n     of passion e'er waylay;\nAnd eyeballs never tasting sweets of sleep; * Yet Fortune spare\n     its cause I ever pray!\nWhile from world-perfidy and parting I * Like Bishram with\n     Hind,[FN#382] that well-loved may;--\nYea, grown a bye-word 'mid the folk but aye * Spend life\n     unwinning wish or night or day.\n\"Ah say, wots she my love when her I spied * At the high lattice\n     shedding sunlike ray?\"\nHer glances, keener than the brand when bared * Cleave soul of\n     man nor ever 'scapes her prey:\nI looked on her in lattice pierced aloft * When bare her cheat of\n     veil that slipped away;\nAnd shot me thence a shaft my liver pierced * When thrall to care\n     and dire despair I lay\nKnowst thou, O Fawn o' the palace, how for thee * I fared from\n     farness o'er the lands astray?\nThen read my writ, dear friends, and show some ruth * To wight\n     who wones black-faced, distraught, sans stay!\n\nAnd when he ended inditing, he folded up the letter. Now the\nmerchant's wife aforesaid, who was the nurse of the king's\ndaughter, was watching him from a window, unknown of him, and\nwhen she saw him writing and reciting, she knew that some rare\ntale attached to him; so she went in to him and said, \"Peace be\nwith thee, O afflicted wight, who acquaintest not leach with thy\nplight! Verily, thou exposest thy life to grievous blight. I\nconjure thee by the virtue of Him who hath afflicted thee and\nwith the constraint of love-liking hath stricken thee, that thou\nacquaint me with thine affair and disclose to me the truth of thy\nsecret; for that indeed I have heard from thee verses which\ntrouble the mind and melt the body.\" Accordingly he acquainted\nher with his case and enjoined her to secrecy, whereof she\nconsented, saying, \"What shall be the recompense of whoso goeth\nwith thy letter and bringeth thee its reply?\" He bowed his head\nfor shame before her and was silent; and she said to him, \"Raise\nthy head and give me thy writ\": so he gave her the letter and she\nhent it and carrying it to the Princess, said to her, \"Take this\nepistle and give me its answer.\" Now the dearest of all things to\nMariyah was the recitation of poesy and verses and linked rhymes\nand the twanging of lute-strings, and she was versed in all\ntongues; wherefore she took the writ and opening it, read that\nwhich was therein and understood its purport. Then she threw it\nto the ground and cried, \"O nurse, I have no answer to make to\nthis letter.\" Quoth the nurse, \"Indeed, this is weakness in thee\nand a reproach to thee, for that the people of the world have\nheard of thee and commend thee for keenness of wit and\nunderstanding; so do thou return him an answer, such as shall\ntrick his heart and tire his soul.\" Quoth she, \"O nurse, who may\nbe the man who presumeth upon me with this correspondence? Haply\n'tis the stranger youth who gave my father the rubies.\" The woman\nsaid, \"It is himself,\" and Mariyah said, \"I will answer his\nletter in such fashion that thou shalt not bring me other than\nit.\" Cried the nurse, \"So be it.\"[FN#383] Thereupon the Princess\ncalled for ink-case and paper and wrote these couplets:--\n\nThou art bold in the copy thou sentest! May be * 'Twill increase\n     the dule foreign wight must dree!\nThou hast spied me with glance that bequeaths thee woe * Ah! far\n     is thy hope, a mere foreigner's plea!\nWho art thou, poor freke, that wouldst win my love * Wi' thy\n     verse? What seeks thine insanity?\nAn thou hope for my favours and greed therefor; * Where find thee\n     a leach for such foolish gree?\nThen rhyme-linking leave and fool-like be not * Hanged to Cross\n     at the doorway of ignomy!\nDeem not that to thee I incline, O youth! * 'Mid the Sons of the\n     Path[FN#384] is no place for me.\nThou art homeless waif in the wide wide world; * So return thee\n     home where they keen for thee:[FN#385]\nLeave verse-spouting, O thou who a-wold dost wone, * Or minstrel\n     shall name thee in lay and glee:\nHow many a friend who would meet his love * Is baulked when the\n     goal is right clear to see!\nSo begone and ne'er grieve for what canst not win * Albe time be\n     near, yet thy grasp 'twill flee.\nNow such is my say and the tale I'd tell; * So master my meaning\n     and--fare thee well!\n\n\nWhen Mariyah had made an end of her verses, she folded the letter\nand delivered it to the nurse, who hent it and went with it to\nAl-Abbas. When she gave it to him, he took it and breaking it\nopen, read it and comprehended its contents; and when he reached\nthe end of it, he swooned away. After awhile, he came to himself\nand cried, \"Praise be to Allah who hath caused her return a reply\nto my writ! Canst thou carry her another missive, and with Allah\nAlmighty be thy requital?\" Said she, \"And what shall letters\nprofit thee, seeing that such is her reply;\" but he said,\n\"Peradventure, she may yet be softened.\" Then he took ink-case\nand paper and wrote these couplets:--\n\nReached me the writ and what therein didst write, * Whence grew\n     my pain and bane and blight:\nI read the marvel-lines made wax my love * And wore my body out\n     till slightest slight.[FN#386]\nWould Heaven ye wot the whole I bear for love * Of you, with\n     vitals clean for you undight!\nAnd all I do t' outdrive you from my thought * 'Vails naught and\n     'gainst th' obsession loses might:\nCouldst for thy lover feel 'twould ease his soul; * E'en thy dear\n     Phantom would his sprite delight!\nThen on my weakness lay not coyness-load * Nor in such breach of\n     troth be traitor-wight:\nAnd, weet ye well, for this your land I fared * Hoping to 'joy\n     the union-boon forthright:\nHow many a stony wold for this I spanned; * How oft I waked when\n     men kept watch o'night!\nTo fare fro' another land for sight of you * Love bade, while\n     length of way forbade my sprite:\nSo by His name[FN#387] who molt my frame, have ruth, * And quench\n     the flames thy love in me did light:\nThou fillest, arrayed with glory's robes and rays, * Heaven's\n     stars with joy and Luna with despight.\nThen who dare chide or blame me for my love * Of one that can all\n     Beauty's boons unite?\n\nWhen Al-Abbas had made an end of his verses, he folded the letter\nand delivering it to the nurse, charged her keep the secret. So\nshe took it and carrying it to Mariyah, gave it to her. The\nPrincess broke it open and read it and apprehended its purport;\nthen cried she, \"By Allah, O nurse, my heart is chagrined with\nexceeding chagrin, never knew I a sorer, because of this\ncorrespondence and of these verses.\" And the nurse made answer to\nher, \"O my lady, thou art in thy dwelling and thy palace and thy\nheart is void of care; so return to him a reply and reck not.\"\nAccordingly, the Princess called for ink-case and paper and wrote\nthese couplets:--\n\nHo thou who wouldst vaunt thee of cark and care; * How many\n     love-molten, tryst-craving be there?\nAn hast wandered the wold in the murks of night * Bound afar and\n     anear on the tracks to fare,\nAnd to eyne hast forbidden the sweets of sleep, * Borne by Devils\n     and Marids to dangerous lair;\nAnd beggest my boons, O in tribe-land[FN#388] homed * And to urge\n     thy wish and desire wouldst dare;\nNow, woo Patience fair, an thou bear in mind * What The Ruthful\n     promised to patient prayer![FN#389]\nHow many a king for my sake hath vied, * Craving love and in\n     marriage with me to pair.\nAl-Nabhan sent, when a-wooing me, * Camels baled with musk and\n     Nadd scenting air.\nThey brought camphor in boxes and like thereof * Of pearls and\n     rubies that countless were;\nBrought pregnant lasses and negro-lads, * Blood steeds and arms\n     and gear rich and rare;\nBrought us raiment of silk and of sendal sheen, * And came\n     courting us but no bride he bare:\nNor could win his wish, for I 'bode content * To part with far\n     parting and love forswear;\nSo for me greed not, O thou stranger wight * Lest thou come to\n     ruin and dire despair!\n\nWhen she had made an end of her verses, she folded the letter and\ndelivered it to the nurse, who took it and carried it to\nAl-Abbas. He broke it open and read it and comprehended its\ncontents; then took ink-case and paper and wrote these improvised\ncouplets:--\n\nThou hast told me the tale of the Kings, and of them * Each was\n     rending lion, a furious foe:\nAnd thou stolest the wits of me, all of them * And shotst me with\n     shaft of thy magic bow:\nThou hast boasted of slaves and of steeds and wealth; * And of\n     beauteous lasses ne'er man did know;\nHow presents in mighty store didst spurn, * And disdainedst\n     lovers both high and low:\nThen I followed their tracks in desire for thee, * With naught\n     save my scymitar keen of blow;\nNor slaves nor camels that run have I; * Nor slave-girls the\n     litters enveil, ah, no!\nBut grant me union and soon shalt sight * My trenchant blade with\n     the foeman's woe;\nShalt see the horsemen engird Baghdad * Like clouds that wall the\n     whole world below,\nObeying behests which to them I deal * And hearing the words to\n     the foes I throw.\nAn of negro chattels ten thousand head * Wouldst have, or Kings\n     who be proud and prow\nOr chargers led for thee day by day * And virgin girls high of\n     bosom, lo!\nAl-Yaman land my command doth bear * And my biting blade to my\n     foes I show.\nI have left this all for the sake of thee, * Left Aziz and my\n     kinsmen for ever-mo'e;\nAnd made Al-Ir\ufffdk making way to thee * Under nightly murks over\n     rocks arow;\nWhen the couriers brought me account of thee * Thy beauty,\n     perfection, and sunny glow,\nThen I sent thee verses whose very sound * Burns the heart of\n     shame with a fiery throe;\nYet the world with falsehood hath fals\ufffdd me, * Though Fortune was\n     never so false as thou,\nWho dubbest me stranger and homeless one * A witless fool and a\n     slave-girl's son!\n\nThen he folded the letter and committed it to the nurse and gave\nher five hundred dinars, saying, \"Accept this from me, for by\nAllah thou hast indeed wearied thyself between us.\" She replied,\n\"By Allah, O my lord, my aim is to bring about forgathering\nbetween you, though I lose that which my right hand possesseth.\"\nAnd he said, \"May the Lord of All-might requite thee with good!\"\nThen she carried the letter to Mariyah and said to her, \"Take\nthis letter; haply it may be the end of the correspondence.\" So\nshe took it and breaking it open, read it, and when she had made\nan end of it, she turned to the nurse and said to her, \"This one\nfoisteth lies upon me and asserteth unto me that he hath cities\nand horsemen and footmen at his command and submitting to his\nallegiance; and he wisheth of me that which he shall not win; for\nthou knowest, O nurse, that kings' sons have sought me in\nmarriage, with presents and rarities; but I have paid no heed\nunto aught of this; how, then, shall I accept of this fellow, who\nis the ignoramus of his time and possesseth naught save two\ncaskets of rubies, which he gave to my sire, and indeed he hath\ntaken up his abode in the house of Al-Ghitrif and abideth without\nsilver or gold? Wherefore, Allah upon thee, O nurse, return to\nhim and cut off his hope of me.\" Accordingly the nurse rejoined\nAl-Abbas, without letter or answer; and when she came in to him,\nhe looked at her and saw that she was troubled, and he noted the\nmarks of anger on her face; so he said to her, \"What is this\nplight?\" Quoth she, \"I cannot set forth to thee that which\nMariyah said; for indeed she charged me return to thee without\nwrit or reply.\" Quoth he, \"O nurse of kings, I would have thee\ncarry her this letter and return not to her without it.\" Then he\ntook ink-case and paper and wrote these couplets:--\n\nMy secret now to men is known though hidden well and true * By\n     me: enough is that I have of love and love of you:\nI left familiars, friends, and kin to weep the loss of me * With\n     floods of tears which like the tide aye flowed and flowed\n     anew:\nThen, left my home myself I bore to Baghdad-town one day, * When\n     parting drave me there his pride and cruelty to rue:\nI have indeed drained all the bowl whose draught\n     repression[FN#390] was * Handed by friend who bitter\n     gourd[FN#391] therein for drinking threw.\nAnd, oft as strove I to enjoin the ways of troth and faith, * So\n     often on refusal's path he left my soul to sue.\nIndeed my body molten is with care I'm doom\ufffdd dree; * And yet I\n     hoped relenting and to win some grace, my due.\nBut wrong and rigour waxed on me and changed to worse my case; *\n     And love hath left me weeping-eyed for woes that aye pursue.\nHow long must I keep watch for you throughout the nightly gloom?\n     * How many a path of pining pace and garb of grief endue?\nAnd you, what while you joy your sleep, your restful pleasant\n     sleep, * Reck naught of sorrow and of shame that to your\n     friend accrue:\nFor wakefulness I watched the stars before the peep o' day, *\n     Praying that union with my dear in bliss my soul imbrue;\nIndeed the throes of long desire laid waste my frame and I * Rise\n     every morn in weaker plight with hopes e'er fewer few:\n\"Be not\" (I say) \"so hard of heart!\" for did you only deign * In\n     phantom guise to visit me 'twere joy enough to view.\nBut when ye saw my writ ye grudged to me the smallest boon * And\n     cast adown the flag of faith though well my troth ye knew;\nNor aught of answer you vouchsafe, albe you wot full well * The\n     words therein address the heart and pierce the spirit\n     through.\nYou deemed yourself all too secure for changes of the days * And\n     of the far and near alike you ever careless grew.\nHadst thou (dear maid) been doomed like me to woes, forsure hadst\n     felt * The lowe of love and Laza-hell which parting doth\n     enmew;\nYet soon shalt suffer torments such as those from thee I bear *\n     And storm of palpitation-pangs in vitals thine shall brew:\nYea, thou shalt taste the bitter smack of charges false and foul,\n     * And public make the privacy best hid from meddling crew;\nAnd he thou lovest shall approve him hard of heart and soul * And\n     heedless of the shifts of Time thy very life undo.\nThen hear the fond Salam I send and wish thee every day * While\n     swayeth spray and sparkleth star all good thy life ensue!\n\nWhen Al-Abbas had made an end of his verses, he folded the scroll\nand gave it to the nurse, who took it and carried it to Mariyah.\nWhen she came into the Princess's presence, she saluted her; but\nMariyah returned not her salutation and she said, \"O my lady, how\nhard is thy heart that thou grudgest to return the salam! Accept\nthis letter, because 'tis the last that shall come to thee from\nhim.\" Quoth Mariyah, \"Take my warning and never again enter my\npalace, or 'twill be the cause of thy destruction; for I am\ncertified that thou purposest my disgrace. So get thee gone from\nme.\" And she bade beat the nurse who went forth fleeing from her\npresence, changed of colour and 'wildered of wits, and gave not\nover going till she came to the house of Al-Abbas. When the\nPrince saw her in this plight, he became like a sleeper awakened\nand cried to her, \"What hath befallen thee? Acquaint me with thy\ncase.\" She replied, \"Allah upon thee, nevermore send me to\nMariyah, and do thou protect me, so the Lord protect thee from\nthe fires of Gehenna!\" Then she related to him that which had\nbetided her with Mariyah which when Al-Abbas heard, there took\nhim the pride and high spirit of the generous and this was\ngrievous to him. The love of Mariyah fled forth of his heart and\nhe said to the nurse, \"How much hadst thou of Mariyah every\nmonth?\" Quoth she, \"Ten dinars\" and quoth he, \"Be not concerned.\"\nThen he put hand to pouch and bringing out two hundred ducats,\ngave them to her and said,\"Take this wage for a whole year and\nturn not again to serve anyone of the folk. When the twelvemonth\nshall have passed away, I will give thee a two years' wage, for\nthat thou hast wearied thyself with us and on account of the\ncutting off the tie which bound thee to Mariyah.\" Also he gifted\nher with a complete suit of clothes and raising his head to her,\nsaid, \"When thou toldest me that which Mariyah had done with\nthee, Allah uprooted the love of her from out my heart, and never\nagain will she occur to my thought; so extolled be He who turneth\nhearts and eyes! 'Twas she who was the cause of my coming out\nfrom Al-Yaman, and now the time is past for which I engaged with\nmy folk and I fear lest my father levy his forces and ride forth\nin quest of me, for that he hath no child other than myself nor\ncan he brook to be parted from me; and in like way 'tis with my\nmother.\" When the nurse heard his words, she asked him, \"O my\nlord, and which of the kings is thy sire?\" He answered, saying,\n\"My father is Al-Aziz, lord of Al-Yaman, and Nubia and the\nIslands[FN#392] of the Banu Kaht\ufffdn, and the Two\nSanctuaries[FN#393] (Allah of All-might have them in His\nkeeping!), and whenever he taketh horse, there ride with him an\nhundred and twenty and four thousand horsemen, each and every\nsmiters with the sword, besides attendants and servants and\nfollowers, all of whom give ear to my word and obey my bidding.\"\nAsked the nurse, \"Why, then, O my lord, didst thou conceal the\nsecret of thy rank and lineage and passedst thyself off for a\nforeigner and a wayfarer? Alas for our disgrace before thee by\nreason of our shortcoming in rendering thee thy due! What shall\nbe our excuse with thee, and thou of the sons of the kings?\" But\nhe rejoined, \"By Allah, thou hast not fallen short! Indeed, 'tis\nincumbent on me to requite thee, what while I live, though from\nthee I be far distant.\" Then he called his man Amir and said to\nhim, \"Saddle the steeds.\" When the nurse heard his words and\nindeed she saw that Amir brought him the horses and they were\nresolved upon departure, the tears ran down upon her cheeks and\nshe said to him, \"By Allah, thy separation is saddening to me, O\ncoolth of the eye!\" Then quoth she, \"Where is the goal of thine\nintent, so we may know thy news and solace ourselves with thy\nreport?\" Quoth he, \"I go hence to visit 'Ak\ufffdl, the son of my\npaternal uncle, for that he hath his sojourn in the camp of\nKundah bin Hish\ufffdm, and these twenty years have I not seen him nor\nhath he seen me; so I purpose to repair to him and discover his\nnews and return. Then will I go hence to Al-Yaman, Inshallah!\" So\nsaying, he took leave of the nurse and her husband and set out,\nintending for 'Akil, the son of his father's brother. Now there\nwas between Baghdad and 'Ak\ufffdl's abiding-place forty days'\njourney; so Al-Abbas settled himself on the back of his steed and\nhis servant Amir mounted also and they fared forth on their way.\nPresently, Al-Abbas turned right and left and recited these\ncouplets,\n\n\"I'm the singular knight and my peers I slay! * I lay low the foe\n     and his whole array:\nI fare me to visit my friend Al-Ak\ufffdl, * And in safety and\n     Allah-lauds,[FN#394] shorten the way;\nAnd roll up the width of the wold while still * Hears 'Amir my\n     word or in earnest or play.[FN#395]\nI spring with the spring of a lynx or a pard * Upon whoso dareth\n     our course to stay;\nO'erthrow him in ruin and abject shame, * Make him drain the\n     death-cup in fatal fray.\nMy lance is long with its steely blade; * A brand keen-grided,\n     thin-edged I sway:\nWith a stroke an it fell on a towering hill * Of the hardest\n     stone, this would cleave in tway:\nI lead no troops, nor seek aid save God's, * The creating Lord\n     (to whom laud alw\ufffdy!)\nOn Whom I rely in adventures all * And Who pardoneth l\ufffdches of\n     freeman and thrall.\"\n\nThen they fell a-faring night and day, and as they went, behold,\nthey sighted a camp of the camps of the Arabs. So Al-Abbas\nenquired thereof and was told that it was the camp of the Banu\nZohrah. Now there were around them herds and flocks, such as\nfilled the earth, and they were enemies to Al-Akil, the cousin of\nAl-Abbas, upon whom they made daily raids and took his cattle,\nwherefore he used to pay them tribute every year because he\nlacked power to cope wth them. When Al-Abbas came to the skirts\nof the camp, he dismounted from his destrier and his servant Amir\nalso dismounted; and they set down the provaunt and ate their\nsufficiency and rested an hour of the day. Then said the Prince\nto his page, \"Fetch water from the well and give the horses to\ndrink and draw up a supply for us in thy bag,[FN#396] by way of\nprovision for the road.\" So Amir took the water-skin and made for\nthe well; but, when he came there, behold, two young men slaves\nwere leading gazelles, and when they saw him, they said to him,\n\"Whither wendest thou, O youth, and of which of the Arabs art\nthou?\" Quoth he, \"Harkye, lads, fill me my water-skin, for that I\nam a stranger astray and a farer of the way, and I have a comrade\nwho awaiteth me.\" Quoth the thralls, \"Thou art no wayfarer, but a\nspy from Al-Ak\ufffdl's camp.\" Then they took him and carried him to\ntheir king Zuhayr bin Shabib; and when he came before him, he\nsaid to him, \"Of which of the Arabs art thou?\" Quoth Amir, \"I am\na wayfarer.\" So Zuhayr said, \"Whence comest thou and whither\nwendest thou?\" and Amir replied, \"I am on my way to Al-Ak\ufffdl.\"\nWhen he named Al-Ak\ufffdl, those who were present were excited; but\nZuhayr signed to them with his eyes and asked him, \"What is thine\nerrand with Al-Ak\ufffdl?\" and he answered, \"We would fain see him, my\nfriend and I.\" As soon as Zuhayr heard his words, he bade smite\nhis neck;[FN#397] but his Wazir said to him, \"Slay him not, till his\nfriend be present.\" So he commanded the two slaves to fetch his\nfriend; whereupon they repaired to Al-Abbas and called to him,\nsaying, \"O youth, answer the summons of King Zuhayr.\" He\nenquired, \"What would the king with me?\" and they replied, \"We\nknow not.\" Quoth he, \"Who gave the king news of me?\" and quoth\nthey, \"We went to draw water, and found a man by the well. So we\nquestioned him of his case, but he would not acquaint us\ntherewith, wherefore we carried him willy-nilly to King Zuhayr,\nwho asked him of his adventure and he told him that he was going\nto Al-Ak\ufffdl. Now Al-Ak\ufffdl is the king's enemy and he intendeth to\nbetake himself to his camp and make prize of his offspring, and\ncut off his traces.\" Said Al-Abbas, \"And what hath Al-Ak\ufffdl done\nwith King Zuhayr?\" They replied. \"He engaged for himself that he\nwould bring the King every year a thousand dinars and a thousand\nshe-camels, besides a thousand head of thoroughbred steeds and\ntwo hundred black slaves and fifty hand-maids; but it hath\nreached the king that Al-Ak\ufffdl purposeth to give naught of this;\nwherefore he is minded to go to him. So hasten thou with us, ere\nthe King be wroth with thee and with us.\" Then said Al-Abbas to\nthem, \"O youths, sit by my weapons and my stallion till I\nreturn.\" But they said, \"By Allah, thou prolongest discourse with\nthat which beseemeth not of words! Make haste, or we will go with\nthy head, for indeed the King purposeth to slay thee and to slay\nthy comrade and take that which is with you.\" When the Prince\nheard this, his skin bristled with rage and he cried out at them\nwith a cry which made them tremble. Then he sprang upon his horse\nand settling himself in the saddle, galloped till he came to the\nKing's assembly, when he shouted at the top of his voice, saying,\n\"To horse, O horsemen!\" and couched his spear at the pavilion\nwherein was Zuhayr. Now there were about the King a thousand\nsmiters with the sword; but Al-Abbas charged home upon them and\ndispersed them from around him; and there abode none in the tent\nsave Zuhayr and his Wazir. Then Al-Abbas came up to the door of\nthe tent wherein were four-and-twenty golden doves; so he took\nthem, after he had tumbled them down with the end of his lance.\nThen he called out saying, \"Ho, Zuhayr! Doth it not suffice thee\nthat thou hast abated Al-Akil's repute, but thou art minded to\nabate that of those who sojourn round about him? Knowest thou not\nthat he is of the lieutenants of Kundah bin Hisham of the Banu\nShayban, a man renowned for prowess? Indeed, greed of his gain\nhath entered into thee and envy of him hath gotten the mastery of\nthee. Doth it not suffice thee that thou hast orphaned his\nchildren[FN#398] and slain his men? By the virtue of Mustafa, the\nChosen Prophet, I will make thee drain the cup of death!\" So\nsaying. he bared his brand and smiting Zuhayr on his\nshoulder-blade caused the steel issue gleaming from his throat\ntendons; then he smote the Wazir and clove his crown asunder. As\nhe was thus, behold, Amir called out to him and said, \"O my lord,\ncome help me, or I be a dead man!\" So Al-Abbas went up to him\nguided by his voice, and found him cast down on his back and\nchained with four chains to four pickets of iron.[FN#399] He\nloosed his bonds and said to him, \"Go in front of me, O Amir.\" So\nhe fared on before him a little, and presently they looked, and,\nbehold, horsemen were making to Zuhayr's succour, and they\nnumbered twelve thousand riders led by Sahl bin Ka'ab bestriding\na coal-black steed. He charged upon Amir, who fled from him, then\nupon Al-Abbas, who said, \"O Amir, hold fast to my horse and guard\nmy back.\" The page did as he bade him, whereupon Al-Abbas cried\nout at the folk and falling upon them, overthrew their braves and\nslew of them some two thousand riders, whilst not one of them\nknew what was to do nor with whom he fought. Then said one of\nthem to other, \"Verily, the King is slain; so with whom do we\nwage war? Indeed ye flee from him; but 'twere better ye enter\nunder his banners, or not one of you will be saved.\" Thereupon\nall dismounted and doffing that which was upon them of war-gear,\ncame before Al-Abbas and proffered him allegiance and sued for\nhis protection. So he withheld his brand from them and bade them\ngather together the spoils. Then he took the riches and the\nslaves and the camels, and they all became his lieges and his\nretainers, to the number (according to that which is reported) of\nfifty thousand horses. Furthermore, the folk heard of him and\nflocked to him from all sides; whereupon he divided the loot\namongst them and gave largesse and dwelt thus three days, and\nthere came gifts to him. After this he bade march for Al-Akil's\nabiding place; so they fared on six days and on the seventh they\nsighted the camp. Al-Abbas bade his man Amir precede him and give\nAl-Akil the good news of his cousin's coming; so he rode on to\nthe camp and, going in to Al-Akil, acquainted him with the glad\ntidings of Zuhayr's slaughter and the conquest of his\nclan.[FN#400] Al-Akil rejoiced in the coming of Al-Abbas and the\nslaughter of his enemy and all in his camp rejoiced also and cast\nrobes of honour upon Amir; while Al-Akil bade go forth to meet\nAl-Abbas, and commanded that none, great or small, freeman or\nslave, should tarry behind. So they did his bidding and going\nforth all, met Al-Abbas at three parasangs' distance from\nthe camp; and when they met him, they dismounted from their\nhorses and Al-Akil and he embraced and clapped palm to\npalm.[FN#401] Then rejoicing in the coming of Al-Abbas and the\nkilling of their foeman, they returned to the camp, where tents\nwere pitched for the new-comers and skin-rugs spread and game\nslain and beasts slaughtered and royal guest-meals spread; and\nafter this fashion they abode twenty days in the enjoyment of all\ndelight of life. On this wise fared it with Al-Abbas and his\ncousin Al-Akil; but as regards King Al-Aziz, when his son left\nhim, he was desolated for him with exceeding desolation, both he\nand his mother; and when tidings of him tarried long and the\ntryst-time passed without his returning, the king caused public\nproclamation to be made, commanding all his troops to get ready\nto mount and ride forth in quest of his son Al-Abbas, at the end\nof three days, after which no cause of hindrance or excuse would\nbe admitted to any. So on the fourth day, the king bade muster\nthe troops who numbered four-and-twenty thousand horse, besides\nservants and followers. Accordingly, they reared the standards\nand the kettle-drums beat the general and the king set out with\nhis power intending for Baghdad; nor did he cease to press\nforward with all diligence, till he came within half a day's\njourney of the city, when he bade his army encamp on the Green\nMeadow. There they pitched the tents, till the lowland was\nstraitened with them, and set up for the king a pavilion of green\nbrocade, purfled with pearls and precious stones. When Al-Aziz\nhad sat awhile, he summoned the Mamelukes of his son Al-Abbas,\nand they were five-and-twenty in number besides ten slave-girls,\nas they were moons, five of whom the king had brought with him\nand other five he had left with the prince's mother. When the\nMamelukes came before him, he cast over each and every of them a\nmantle of green brocade and bade them mount similar horses of one\nand the same fashion and enter Baghdad and ask after their lord\nAl-Abbas. So they rode into the city and passed through the\nmarket-streets and there remained in Baghdad nor old man nor boy\nbut came forth to gaze on them and divert himself with the sight\nof their beauty and loveliness and the seemliness of their\nsemblance and the goodliness of their garments and horses, for\nall were even as moons. They gave not over going till they came\nto the palace,[FN#402] where they halted, and the king looked at\nthem and seeing their beauty and the brilliancy of their apparel\nand the brightness of their faces, said, \"Would Heaven I knew of\nwhich of the tribes these are!\" And he bade the Eunuch bring him\nnews of them. The castrato went out to them and questioned them\nof their case, whereto they replied, \"Return to thy lord and\nenquire of him concerning Prince Al-Abbas, an he have come unto\nhim, for that he left his sire King Al-Aziz a full-told year ago,\nand indeed longing for him troubleth the King and he hath levied\na division of his army and his guards and is come forth in quest\nof his son, so haply he may light upon tidings of him.\" Quoth the\nEunuch, \"Is there amongst you a brother of his or a son?\" and\nquoth they, \"Nay, by Allah, but we are all his Mamelukes and the\npurchased of his money, and his sire Al-Aziz hath sent us to make\nenquiry of him. Do thou go to thy lord and question him of the\nPrince and return to us with that which he shall answer thee.\"\nAsked the Eunuch, \"And where is King Al-Aziz?\" and they answered,\n\"He is encamped in the Green Meadow.\"[FN#403] The Eunuch returned\nand told the king, who said, \"Indeed we have been unduly\nnegligent with regard to Al-Abbas. What shall be our excuse with\nthe King? By Allah, my soul suggested to me that the youth was of\nthe sons of the kings!\" His wife, the Lady Afifah saw him\nlamenting for his neglect of Al-Abbas, and said to him, \"O King,\nwhat is it thou regrettest with this mighty regret?\" Quoth he,\n\"Thou knowest the stranger youth, who gifted us with the rubies?\"\nQuoth she, \"Assuredly;\" and he, \"Yonder youths, who have halted\nin the palace court, are his Mamelukes, and his father, King\nAl-Aziz, lord of Al-Yaman, hath pitched his camp on the Green\nMeadow; for he is come with his army to seek him, and the number\nof his troops is four-and-twenty thousand horsemen.\" Then he went\nout from her, and when she heard his words, she wept sore for him\nand had compassion on his case and sent after him, counselling\nhim to summon the Mamelukes and lodge them in the palace and\nentertain them. The king hearkened to her rede and despatching\nthe Eunuch for the Mamelukes, assigned unto them a lodging and\nsaid to them, \"Have patience, till the King give you tidings of\nyour lord Al-Abbas.\" When they heard his words, their eyes ran\nover with a rush of tears, of their mighty longing for the sight\nof their lord. Then the King bade the Queen enter the private\nchamber opening upon the throne-room and let down the curtain\nbefore the door, so she might see and not be seen. She did this\nand he summoned them to his presence; and, when they stood before\nhim, they kissed ground to do him honour, and showed forth their\ncourtly breeding and magnified his dignity. He ordered them to\nsit, but they refused, till he conjured them by their lord\nAl-Abbas: accordingly they sat down and he bade set before them\nfood of various kinds and fruits and sweetmeats. Now within the\nLady Afifah's palace was a souterrain communicating with the\npavilion of the Princess Mariyah: so the Queen sent after her and\nshe came to her, whereupon she made her stand behind the curtain\nand gave her to know that Al-Abbas was son to the King of\nAl-Yaman and that these were his Mamelukes: she also told her\nthat the Prince's father had levied his troops and was come with\nhis army in quest of him and that he had pitched his camp on the\nGreen Meadow and had despatched these Mamelukes to make enquiry\nof their lord. Then Mariyah abode looking upon them and upon\ntheir beauty and loveliness and the goodliness of their raiment,\ntill they had eaten their fill of food and the tables were\nremoved; whereupon the King recounted to them the story of\nAl-Abbas and they took leave of him and went their ways. So\nfortuned it with the Mamelukes; but as for the Princess Mariyah,\nwhen she returned to her palace, she bethought herself concerning\nthe affair of Al-Abbas, repenting her of what she had done; and\nthe love of him took root in her heart. And, when the night\ndarkened upon her, she dismissed all her women and bringing out\nthe letters, to wit, those which Al-Abbas had written her, fell\nto reading them and weeping. She left not weeping her night long,\nand when she arose in the morning, she called a damsel of her\nslave-girls, Shaf\ufffdkah by name, and said to her, \"O damsel, I\npurpose to discover to thee mine affair and I charge thee keep my\nsecret, which is that thou betake thyself to the house of the\nnurse, who used to serve me, and fetch her to me, for that I have\ngrave need of her.\" Accordingly, Shafikah went out and repairing\nto the nurse's house, entered and found her clad in clothing\nother and richer than what she had whilome been wont to wear. So\nshe saluted her and asked her, \"Whence hadst thou this dress,\nthan which there is no goodlier?\" Answered the nurse, \"O\nShafikah, thou deemest that I have seen no good save of thy\nmistress; but, by Allah, had I endeavoured for her destruction, I\nhad acted righteously, seeing that she did with me what she did\nand bade the Eunuch beat me, without offence by me offered: so\ntell her that he, on whose behalf I bestirred myself with her,\nhath made me independent of her and her humours, for he hath\nhabited me in this habit and given me two hundred and fifty\ndinars and promised me the like every year and charged me to\nserve none of the folk.\" Quoth Shafikah, \"My mistress hath a need\nfor thee; so come thou with me and I will engage to restore thee\nto thy dwelling in safety and satisfaction.\" But quoth the nurse,\n\"Indeed her palace is become unlawful and forbidden to me[FN#404]\nand never again will I enter therein, for that Allah (extolled\nand exalted be He!) of His favour and bounty hath rendered me\nindependent of her.\" Presently Shafikah returned to her mistress\nand acquainted her with the nurse's words and that wherein she\nwas of prosperity; whereupon Mariyah confessed her unmannerly\ndealing with her and repented when repentance profited her not;\nand she abode in that her case days and nights, whilst the fire\nof longing flamed in her heart. On this wise happened it to her;\nbut as regards Al-Abbas, he tarried with his cousin Al-Akil\ntwenty days, after which he made ready for the journey to Baghdad\nand bidding bring the booty he had taken from King Zuhayr,\ndivided it between himself and his cousin. Then he sent out\na-marching Baghdad-wards and when he came within two days'\njourney of the city, he summoned his servant Amir and said to\nhim, \"Mount thy charger and forego me with the caravan and the\ncattle.\" So Amir took horse and fared on till he came to Baghdad,\nand the season of his entering was the first of the day; nor was\nthere in the city little child or old greybeard but came forth to\ndivert himself with gazing on those flocks and herds and upon the\nbeauty of those slave-girls; and their wits were wildered at what\nthey saw. Soon afterwards the news reached the king that the\nyoung man Al-Abbas, who had gone forth from him, was come back\nwith booty and rarities and black slaves and a conquering host\nand had taken up his sojourn without the city, whilst his servant\nAmir was presently come to Baghdad, so he might get ready for his\nlord dwelling-places wherein he should take up his abode. When\nthe King heard these tidings of Amir, he sent for him and caused\nbring him before him; and when he entered his presence, he kissed\nthe ground and saluted with the salam and showed his fine\nbreeding and greeted him with the goodliest of greetings. The\nKing bade him raise his head and, this done, questioned him of\nhis lord Al-Abbas; whereupon he acquainted him with his\nadventures and told him that which had betided him with King\nZuhayr and of the army that was become at his command and of the\nspoil he had secured. He also gave him to know that Al-Abbas was\nto arrive on the morrow, and with him more than fifty thousand\ncavatiers, obedient to his orders. When the king heard his words,\nhe bade decorate Baghdad and commanded the citizens to equip\nthemselves with the richest of their apparel, in honour of the\ncoming of Al-Abbas. Furthermore, he sent to give King Al-Aziz the\nglad tidings of his son's return and informed him of all which he\nhad heard from the Prince's servant. When the news reached King\nAl-Aziz, he joyed with exceeding joy in the approach of his son\nand straightway took horse, he and all his host, while the\ntrumpets blared and the musicians played, so that the earth\nquaked and Baghdad also trembled, and it was a notable day. When\nMariyah beheld all this, she repented in all possible penitence\nof that which she had done against Al-Abbas and the fires of\ndesire raged in her vitals. Meanwhile, the troops[FN#405] sallied\nforth of Baghdad and went out to meet those of Al-Abbas, who had\nhalted in a garth called the Green Island. When he espied the\napproaching host, he strained his sight and, seeing horsemen\ncoming and troops and footmen he knew not, said to those about\nhim, \"Among yonder troops are flags and banners of various kinds;\nbut, as for the great green standard that ye see, 'tis the\nstandard of my sire, the which is reserved to him and never\ndisplayed save over his head, and thus I know that he himself is\ncome out in quest of me.\" And he was certified of this, he and\nhis troops. So he fared on towards them and when he drew near\nthem, he knew them and they knew him; whereupon they lighted down\nfrom their horses and saluting him, gave him joy of his safety\nand the folk flocked to him. When he came to his father, they\nembraced and each greeted other a long time, whilst neither of\nthem could utter a word, for the greatness of that which betided\nthem of joy in reunion. Then Al-Abbas bade the folk take horse;\nso they mounted and his Mamelukes surrounded him and they entered\nBaghdad on the most splendid wise and in the highest honour and\nglory. Now the wife of the shopkeeper, that is, the nurse, came\nout, with the rest of those who flocked forth, to divert herself\nwith gazing upon the show, and when she saw Al-Abbas and beheld\nhis beauty and the beauty of his host and that which he had\nbrought back with him of herds and slave-girls, Mamelukes and\nnegroes, she improvised and recited these couplets,\n\n\"Al-Abb\ufffds from the side of Ak\ufffdl is come; * Caravans and steeds he\n     hath plunder\ufffdd:\nYea; horses he brought of pure blood, whose necks * Ring with\n     collars like anklets wher'er they are led.\nWith dom\ufffdd hoofs they pour torrent-like, * As they prance through\n     dust on the level stead:\nAnd bestriding their saddles come men of war, * Whose fingers\n     play on the kettle-drum's head:\nAnd couched are their lances that bear the points * Keen grided,\n     which fill every soul with dread:\nWho wi' them would fence draweth down his death * For one deadly\n     lunge soon shall do him dead:\nCharge, comrades, charge ye and give me joy, * Saying, 'Welcome\n     to thee, O our dear comr\ufffdde!'\nAnd who joys at his meeting shall 'joy delight * Of large gifts\n     when he from his steed shall 'light.\"\n\nWhen the troops entered Baghdad, each of them alighted in his\ntent, whilst Al-Abbas encamped apart on a place near the Tigris\nand issued orders to slaughter for the soldiers, each day, that\nwhich should suffice them of oxen and sheep and to bake them\nbread and spread the tables: so the folk ceased not to come to\nhim and eat of his banquet. Furthermore, all the country-people\nflocked to him with presents and rarities and he requited them\nmany times the like of their gifts, so that the lands were filled\nwith his renown and the fame of him was bruited abroad among the\nhabitants of wold and town. Then, as soon as he rode to the house\nhe had bought, the shopkeeper and his wife came to him and gave\nhim joy of his safety; whereupon he ordered them three head of\nswift steeds and thoroughbred and ten dromedaries and an hundred\nhead of sheep and clad them both in costly robes of honour.\nPresently he chose out ten slave-girls and ten negro slaves and\nfifty mares and the like number of she-camels and three hundred\nof sheep, together with twenty ounces of musk and as many of\ncamphor, and sent all this to the King of Baghdad. When the\npresent came to Ins bin Kays, his wit fled for joy and he was\nperplexed wherewith to requite him. Al-Abbas also gave gifts and\nlargesse and bestowed robes of honour upon noble and simple, each\nafter the measure of his degree, save only Mariyah; for to her\nindeed he sent nothing. This was grievous to the Princess and it\nirked her sore that he should not remember her; so she called her\nslave-girl Shafikah and said to her, \"Hie thee to Al-Abbas and\nsalute him and say to him, 'What hindereth thee from sending my\nlady Mariyah her part of thy booty?'\" So Shafikah betook herself\nto him and when she came to his door, the chamberlains refused\nher admission, until they should have got for her leave and\npermission. When she entered, Al-Abbas knew her and knew that she\nhad somewhat of speech with him; so he dismissed his Mamelukes\nand asked her, \"What is thine errand, O hand-maid of good?\"\nAnswered she, \"O my lord, I am a slave-girl of the Princess\nMariyah, who kisseth thy hands and offereth her salutation to\nthee. Indeed, she rejoiceth in thy safety and blameth thee for\nthat thou breakest her heart, alone of all the folk, because thy\nlargesse embraceth great and small, yet hast thou not remembered\nher with anything of thy plunder, as if thou hadst hardened thy\nheart against her.\" Quoth he, \"Extolled be He who turneth hearts!\nBy Allah, my vitals were consumed with the love of her; and, of\nmy longing after her I came forth to her from my mother-land and\nleft my people and my home and my wealth, and it was with her\nthat began the hardheartedness and the cruelty. Natheless, for\nall this, I bear her no malice and there is no help but that I\nsend her somewhat whereby she may remember me; for that I sojourn\nin her country but a few days, after which I set out for the land\nof Al-Yaman.\" Then he called for a chest and thence bringing out\na necklace of Greek workmanship, worth a thousand dinars, wrapped\nit in a mantle of Greek silk, set with pearls and gems and\npurfled with red gold, and joined thereto a couple of caskets\ncontaining musk and amber-gris. He also put off upon the girl a\nmantle of Greek silk, striped with gold, wherein were divers\nfigures and portraitures depictured, never saw eyes its like.\nTherewithal the girl's wit fled for joy and she went forth from\nhis presence and returned to her mistress. When she came in to\nher, she acquainted her with that which she had seen of Al-Abbas\nand that which was with him of servants and attendants and set\nout to her the loftiness of his station and gave her that which\nwas with her. Mariyah opened the mantle, and when she saw that\nnecklace (and indeed the place was illumined with the lustre\nthereof), she looked at her slave-girl and said to her, \"By\nAllah, O Shafikah, one look at him were dearer to me than all\nthat my hand possesseth! Oh, would Heaven I knew what I shall do,\nwhen Baghdad is empty of him and I hear of him no news!\" Then she\nwept and calling for ink-case and paper and pen of brass, wrote\nthese couplets:\n\nLongsome my sorrows are; my liver's fired with ecstasy; * And\n     severance-shaft hath shot me through whence sorest pangs I\n     dree:\nAnd howso could my soul forget the love I bear to you? *\n     You-wards my will perforce returns nor passion sets me free:\nI 'prison all desires I feel for fear of spies thereon * Yet\n     tears that streak my cheek betray for every eye to see.\nNo place of rest or joy I find to bring me life-delight; * No\n     wine tastes well, nor viands please however savoury:\nAh me! to whom shall I complain of case and seek its cure * Save\n     unto thee whose Phantom deigns to show me sight of thee?\nThen name me not or chide for aught I did in passion-stress, *\n     With vitals gone and frame consumed by yearning-malady!\nSecret I keep the fire of love which aye for severance burns; *\n     Sworn slave[FN#406] to Love who robs my rest and wakes me\n     cruelly:\nAnd ceaseth not my thought to gaze upon your ghost by night, *\n     Which falsing comes and he I love still, still unloveth me.\nWould Heaven ye wist the blight that I for you are doomed to bear\n     * For love of you, which tortures me with parting agony!\nThen read between the lines I wrote, and mark and learn their\n     sense * For such my tale, and Destiny made me an outcast be:\nLearn eke the circumstance of Love and lover's woe nor deign *\n     Divulge its mysteries to men nor grudge its secrecy.\n\nThen she folded the scroll and givng it to her slave-girl, bade\nher bear it to Al-Abbas and bring back his reply. So Shafikah\ntook the letter and carried it to the Prince, after the\ndoorkeeper had sought leave of him to admit her. When she came in\nto him, she found with him five damsels, as they were moons, clad\nin rich raiment and ornaments; and when he saw her, he said to\nher, \"What is thy need, O hand-maid of good?\" Presently she put\nout her hand to him with the writ, after she had kissed it, and\nhe bade one of his slave-girls receive it from her.[FN#407] Then\nhe took it from the girl and breaking the seal, read it and\ncomprehended its contents; whereupon he cried, \"Verily, we be\nAllah's and unto Him we shall return!\" and calling for ink-case\nand paper, wrote these improvised couplets:--\n\nI wonder seeing how thy love to me * Inclined, while I in heart\n     from love declined:\nEke wast thou wont to say in verseful writ, * \"Son of the\n     Road[FN#408] no road to me shall find!\nHow oft kings flocked to me with mighty men * And bales on back\n     of Bukhti[FN#409] beast they bind:\nAnd noble steeds of purest blood and all * They bore of choicest\n     boons to me consigned;\nYet won no favour!\" Then came I to woo * And the long tale o'\n     love I had designed,\nI fain set forth in writ of mine, with words * Like strings of\n     pearls in goodly line aligned:--\nSet forth my sev'rance, griefs, tyrannic wrongs, * And ill device\n     ill-suiting lover-kind.\nHow oft love-claimant, craving secrecy, * How oft have lovers\n     'plained as sore they pined,\nHow many a brimming bitter cup I've quaffed, * And wept my woes\n     when speech was vain as wind!\nAnd thou:--\"Be patient, 'tis thy bestest course * And choicest\n     medicine for mortal mind!\"\nThen unto patience worthy praise cleave thou; * Easy of issue and\n     be lief resigned:\nNor hope thou aught of me lest ill alloy * Or aught of dross\n     affect my blood refined:\nSuch is my speech. Read, mark, and learn my say! * To what thou\n     deemest ne'er I'll tread the way.\n\nThen he folded the scroll and sealing it, entrusted it to the\ndamsel, who took it and bore it to her mistress. When the\nPrincess read the letter and mastered its meaning, she said,\n\"Meseemeth he recalleth bygones to me.\" Then she called for pens,\nink, and paper, and wrote these couplets:\n\nLove thou didst show me till I learnt its woe * Then to the\n     growth of grief didst severance show:\nI banisht joys of slumber after you * And e'en my pillow garred\n     my wake to grow.\nHow long in parting shall I pine with pain * While\n     severance-spies[FN#410] through night watch every throe?\nI've left my kingly couch and self withdrew * Therefrom, and\n     taught mine eyelids sleep t'unknow:\n'Twas thou didst teach me what I ne'er can bear: * Then didst\n     thou waste my frame with parting-blow.\nBy oath I swear thee, blame and chide me not: * Be kind to\n     mourner Love hath stricken low!\nFor parting-rigours drive him nearer still * To narrow home, ere\n     clad in shroud for clo':\nHave ruth on me, since Love laid waste my frame, * 'Mid thralls\n     enrolled me and lit fires that flame.\n\nMariyah rolled up the letter and gave it to Shafikah, bidding her\nbear it to Al-Abbas. Accordingly she took it and going with it to\nhis door, proceeded to enter; but the chamberlains and\nserving-men forbade her, till they had obtained her leave from\nthe Prince. When she went into him, she found him sitting in the\nmidst of the five damsels before mentioned, whom his father had\nbrought for him; so she gave him the letter and he tare it open\nand read it. Then he bade one of the damsels, whose name was\nKhafifah and who came from the land of China, tune her lute and\nsing anent separation. Thereupon she came forward and tuning her\nlute, played thereon in four-and-twenty modes: after which she\nreturned to the first and sang these couplets,\n\n\"Our friends, when leaving us on parting-day, * Drave us in wolds\n     of severance-grief to stray:\nWhen bound the camels' litters bearing them, * And cries of\n     drivers urged them on the way,\nOutrusht my tears, despair gat hold of me * And sleep betrayed\n     mine eyes to wake a prey.\nThe day they went I wept, but showed no ruth * The severance-spy\n     and flared the flames alw\ufffdy:\nAlas for lowe o' Love that fires me still! * Alack for pine that\n     melts my heart away!\nTo whom shall I complain of care, when thou * Art gone, nor fain\n     a-pillow head I lay?\nAnd day by day Love's ardours grow on me, * And far's the tent\n     that holds my fondest may:\nO Breeze o' Heaven, bear for me a charge * (Nor traitor-like my\n     troth in love betray!),\nWhene'er thou breathest o'er the loved one's land * Greet him\n     with choice salam fro' me, I pray:\nDust him with musk and powdered ambergris * While time endures!\n     Such is my wish for aye.\"\n\nWhen the damsel had made an end of her song, Al-Abbas swooned\naway and they sprinkled on him musked rose-water, till he\nrecovered from his fainting-fit, when he called another damsel\n(now there was on her of linen and raiment and ornaments that\nwhich undoeth description, and she was a model of beauty and\nbrightness and loveliness and symmetry and perfect grace, such as\nshamed the crescent moon, and she was a Turkish girl from the\nland of the Roum and her name was H\ufffdfizah) and said to her, \"O\nHafizah, close thine eyes and tune thy lute and sing to us upon\nthe days of severance.\" She answered him, \"To hear is to obey\"\nand taking the lute, tightened its strings and cried out from her\nhead,[FN#411] in a plaintive voice, and sang these couplets,\n\n\"My friends! tears flow in painful mockery, * And sick my heart\n     from parting agony:\nMy frame is wasted and my vitals wrung * And love-fires grow and\n     eyes set tear-floods free:\nAnd when the fire burns high beneath my ribs * With tears I\n     quench it as sad day I see.\nLove left me wasted, baffled, pain-begone, * Sore frighted, butt\n     to spying enemy:\nWhen I recal sweet union wi' their loves * I chase dear sleep\n     from the sick frame o' me.\nLong as our parting lasts the rival joys * And spies with fearful\n     prudence gain their gree.\nI fear me for my sickly, langourous frame * Lest dread of parting\n     slay me incontinently.\"\n\nWhen Hafizah had ended her song, Al-Abbas cried to her, \"Brava!\nVerily, thou quickenest hearts from griefs.\" Then he called\nanother maiden of the daughters of Daylam by name Marj\ufffdnah, and\nsaid to her, \"O Marjanah, sing to me upon the days of parting.\"\nShe said, \"Hearing and obeying,\" and recited these couplets,\n\n\"'Cleave to fair Patience! Patience 'gendereth weal': * Such is\n     the rede to us all sages deal:\nHow oft I plained the lowe of grief and love * Mid passions cast\n     my soul in sore unheal.\nHow oft I waked and drained the bitter cup * And watched the\n     stars, nor sleep mine eyes would seal!\nEnough it were an deal you grace to me * In writ a-morn and\n     garred no hope to feel.\nBut Thoughts which probed its depths would sear my heart * And\n     start from eye-brows streams that ever steal:\nNor cease I suffering baleful doom and nights * Wakeful, and\n     heart by sorrows rent piece-meal:\nBut Allah purged my soul from love of you * When all knew secrets\n     cared I not reveal.\nI march to-morrow from your country and * Haply you'll speed me\n     nor fear aught unweal;\nAnd, when in person you be far from us, * Would heaven we knew\n     who shall your news reveal.\nWho kens if home will e'er us two contain * In dearest life with\n     union naught can stain!\"\n\nWhen Marjanah had made an end of her song, the Prince said to\nher, \"Brava, O damsel! Indeed, thou sayest a thing which had\noccurred to my mind and my tongue was near to speaking it.\" Then\nhe signed to the fourth damsel, who was a Cairene, by name Sitt\nal-Husn, and bade her tune her lute and sing to him upon the same\ntheme. So the Lady of Beauty tuned her lute and sang these\ncouplets,\n\n\"Patience is blest for weal comes after woe * And all things\n     stated time and ordinance show;\nHaps the Sultan, hight Fortune, prove unjust * Shifting the\n     times, and man excuse shall know:\nBitter ensueth sweet in law of change * And after crookedness\n     things straightest grow.\nThen guard thine honour, nor to any save * The noble knowledge of\n     the hid bestow:\nThese be vicissitudes the Lord commands * Poor men endure, the\n     sinner and the low.\"\n\nWhen Al-Abbas heard her make an end of her verses, they pleased\nhim and he said to her, \"Brava, O Sitt al-Husn! Indeed, thou hast\ndone away with anxiety from my heart and hast banished the things\nwhich had occurred to my thought.\" Then he sighed and signing to\nthe fifth damsel, who was from the land of the Persians and whose\nname was Marz\ufffdyah (now she was the fairest of them all and the\nsweetest of speech and she was like unto a lustrous star, a model\nof beauty and loveliness and perfection and brightness and\njustness of shape and symmetric grace and had a face like the new\nmoon and eyes as they were gazelle's eyes) and said to her, \"O\nMarziyah, come forward and tune thy lute and sing to us on the\nsame theme, for indeed we are resolved upon faring to the land of\nAl-Yaman.\" Now this maiden had met many of the monarchs and had\nforegathered with the great; so she tuned her lute and sang these\ncouplets,\n\n\"Friend of my heart why leave thou lone and desolate these eyne?\n     * Fair union of our lots ne'er failed this sitting-stead of\n     mine!\nAnd ah! who dwellest singly in the heart and sprite of me, * (Be\n     I thy ransom!) desolate for loss of friend I pine!\nBy Allah! O thou richest form in charms and loveliness, * Give\n     alms to lover who can show of patience ne'er a sign!\nAlms of what past between us tway (which ne'er will I divulge) *\n     Of privacy between us tway that man shall ne'er divine:\nGrant me approval of my lord whereby t' o'erwhelm the foe * And\n     let my straitness pass away and doubtful thoughts malign:\nApproof of thee (an gained the meed) for me high rank shall gain\n     * And show me robed in richest weed to eyes of envy fain.\"\n\nWhen she had ended her song, all who were in the assembly wept\nfor the daintiness of her delivery and the sweetness of her\nspeech and Al-Abbas said to her, \"Brava, O Marz\ufffdyah! Indeed, thou\nbewilderest the wits with the beauty of thy verse and the polish\nof thy speech.\"[FN#412] All this while Shafikah abode gazing\nupon her, and when she beheld the slave-girls of Al-Abbas and\nconsidered the charms of their clothing and the subtlety of their\nsenses and the delicacy of their delivery her reason flew from\nher head. Then she sought leave of Al-Abbas and returning to her\nmistress Mariyah, sans letter or reply, acquainted her with what\nshe had espied of the damsels and described to her the condition\nwherein he was of honour and delight, majesty, venerance and\nloftiness of rank. Lastly, she enlarged upon what she had seen of\nthe slave-girls and their case and that which they had said and\nhow they had incited Al-Abbas anent returning to his own country\nby the recitation of songs to the sound of the strings. When the\nPrincess heard this her slave-girl's report, she wept and wailed\nand was like to leave the world. Then she took to her pillow and\nsaid, \"O Shafikah, I will inform thee of a something which is not\nhidden from Allah the Most High, and 'tis that thou watch over me\ntill the Almighty decree the accomplishment of His destiny, and\nwhen my days are ended, take thou the necklace and the mantle\nwith which Al-Abbas gifted me and return them to him. I deem not\nhe will survive me, and if the Lord of All-might determine\nagainst him and his days come to an end, do thou give one charge\nto shroud us and entomb us both in one tomb.\" Then her case\nchanged and her colour waxed wan; and when Shafikah saw her\nmistress in this plight, she repaired to her mother and told her\nthat the lady Mariyah refused meat and drink. Asked the Queen,\n\"Since when hath this befallen her?\" and Shafikah answered,\n\"Since yesterday's date;\" whereat the mother was confounded and\nbetaking herself to her daughter, that she might inquire into her\ncase, lo and behold! found her as one dying. So she sat down at\nher head and Mariyah opened her eyes and seeing her mother\nsitting by her, sat up for shame before her. The Queen questioned\nher of her case and she said, \"I entered the Hammam and it\nstupefied me and prostrated me and left in my head an exceeding\npain; but I trust in Allah Al-mighty that it will cease.\" When\nher mother went out from her, Mariyah took to chiding the damsel\nfor that which she had done and said to her, \"Verily, death were\ndearer to me than this; so discover thou not my affair to any and\nI charge thee return not to the like of this fashion.\" Then she\nfainted and lay swooning for a whole hour, and when she came to\nherself, she saw Shafikah weeping over her; whereupon she pluckt\nthe necklace from her neck and the mantle from her body and said\nto the damsel, \"Lay them in a damask napkin and bear them to\nAl-Abbas and acquaint him with that wherein I am for the stress\nof severance and the strain of forbiddance.\" So Shafikah took\nthem and carried them to Al-Abbas, whom she found in readiness to\ndepart, being about to take horse for Al-Yaman. She went in to\nhim and gave him the napkin and that which was therein, and when\nhe opened it and saw what it contained, namely, the mantle and\nthe necklace, his chagrin was excessive and his eyes turned in\nhis head[FN#413] and his rage shot out of them. When Shafikah saw\nthat which betided him, she came forward and said to him, \"O\nbountiful lord, verily my mistress returneth not the mantle and\nthe necklace for despite; but she is about to quit the world and\nthou hast the best right to them.\" Asked he, \"And what is the\ncause of this?\" and Shafikah answered, \"Thou knowest. By Allah,\nnever among the Arabs nor the Ajams nor among the sons of the\nkings saw I a harder of heart than thou! Can it be a slight\nmatter to thee that thou troublest Mariyah's life and causest her\nto mourn for herself and quit the world for the sake of thy\nyouth?[FN#414] Thou wast the cause of her acquaintance with thee\nand now she departeth this life on thine account, she whose like\nAllah Almighty hath not created among the daughters of the\nkings.\" When Al-Abbas heard from the damsel these words, his\nheart burned for Mariyah and her case was not light to him, so he\nsaid to Shafikah, \"Canst thou bring me in company with her; so\nhaply I may discover her concern and allay whatso aileth her?\"\nSaid she, \"Yes, I can do that, and thine will be the bounty and\nthe favour.\" So he arose and followed her, and she preceded him,\ntill they came to the palace. Then she opened and locked behind\nthem four-and-twenty doors and made them fast with padlocks; and\nwhen he came to Mariyah, he found her as she were the downing\nsun, strown upon a T\ufffdif rug of perfumed leather,[FN#415]\nsurrounded by cushions stuffed with ostrich down, and not a limb\nof her quivered. When her maid saw her in this state, she offered\nto cry out; but Al-Abbas said to her, \"Do it not, but have\npatience till we discover her affair; and if Allah (be He\nextolled and exalted!) have decreed her death, wait till thou\nhave opened the doors to me and I have gone forth. Then do what\nseemeth good to thee.\" So saying, he went up to the Princess and\nlaying his hand upon her bosom, found her heart fluttering like a\ndoveling and the life yet hanging to her breast.[FN#416] So he\nplaced his hand on her cheek, whereat she opened her eyes and\nbeckoning to her maid, said to her by signs, \"Who is this that\ntreadeth my carpet and transgresseth against me?\"[FN#417] \"O my\nlady,\" cried Shafikah, \"this is Prince Al-Abbas, for whose sake\nthou forsakest the world.\" When Mariyah heard speak of Al-Abbas,\nshe raised her hand from under the coverlet and laying it upon\nhis neck, inhaled awhile his scent. Then she sat up and her\ncomplexion returned to her and they abode talking till a third\npart of the night was past. Presently, the Princess turned to her\nhandmaid and bade her fetch them somewhat of food, sweetmeats,\nand fruits, fresh and dry. So Shafikah brought what she desired\nand they ate and drank and abode on this wise without lewdness,\ntill night went and light came. Then said Al-Abbas, \"Indeed, the\nmorn breaketh. Shall I hie to my sire and bid him go to thy\nfather and seek thee of him in wedlock for me, in accordance with\nthe book of Allah Almighty and the practice of His Apostle (whom\nmay He save and assain!) so we may not enter into transgression?\"\nAnd Mariyah answered, saying, \"By Allah, 'tis well counselled of\nthee!\" So he went away to his lodging and naught befel between\nthem; and when the day lightened, she recited these couplets,\n\n\"O friends, morn-breeze with Morn draws on amain: * A\n     Voice[FN#418] bespeaks us, gladding us with 'plain.\nUp to the convent where our friend we'll sight * And wine more\n     subtile than the dust[FN#419] we'll drain;\nWhereon our friend spent all the coin he owned * And made the\n     nursling in his cloak contain;[FN#420]\nAnd, when we oped the jar, light opalline * Struck down the\n     singers in its search waylain.\nFrom all sides flocking came the convent-monks * Crying at top o'\n     voices, 'Welcome fain!'\nAnd we carousing sat, and cups went round, * Till rose the\n     Venus-star o'er Eastern plain.\nNo shame in drinking wine, which means good cheer * And love and\n     promise of prophetic strain![FN#421]\nHo thou, the Morn, our union sundering, * These joyous hours to\n     fine thou dost constrain.\nShow grace to us until our pleasures end, * And latest drop of\n     joy fro' friends we gain:\nYou have affection candid and sincere * And Love and Joy are best\n     of Faiths for men.\"\n\nSuch was the case with Mariyah; but as regards Al-Abbas, he\nbetook himself to his father's camp, which was pitched on the\nGreen Meadow, by the Tigris-side, and none might thread his way\nbetween the tents, for the dense network of the tent ropes. When\nthe Prince reached the first of the pavilions, the guards and\nservants came out to meet him from all sides and walked in his\nservice till he drew near the sitting-place of his sire, who knew\nof his approach. So he issued forth his marquee and coming to\nmeet his son, kissed him and made much of him. Then they returned\ntogether to the royal pavilion and when they had seated\nthemselves therein and the guards had taken up their station in\nattendance on them, the King said to Al-Abbas, \"O my son, get\nready thine affair, so we may go to our own land, for that the\nlieges in our absence are become as they were sheep lacking\nshepherd.\" Al-Abbas looked at his father and wept till he\nfainted, and when he recovered from his fit, he improvised and\nrecited these couplets,\n\n\"I embraced him,[FN#422] and straight I waxt drunk wi' the smell\n     * Of a fresh young branch wont in wealth to dwell.\nYea, drunken, but not by the wine; nay, 'twas * By draughts from\n     his lips that like wine-cups well:\nFor Beauty wrote on his cheek's fair page * 'Oh, his charms! take\n     refuge fro' danger fell!'[FN#423]\nMine eyes, be easy, since him ye saw; * Nor mote nor blearness\n     with you shall mell:\nIn him Beauty showeth fro' first to fine * And bindeth on hearts\n     bonds unfrangible:\nAn thou kohl thyself with his cheek of light * Thou'll find but\n     jasper and or in stelle:[FN#424]\nThe chiders came to reproach me when * For him longing and pining\n     my heart befel:\nBut I fear not, I end not, I turn me not * From his life, let\n     tell-tale his tale e'en tell:\nBy Allah, forgetting ne'er crossed my thought * While by life-tie\n     bound, or when ends my spell:\nAn I live I will live in his love, an I die * Of love and\n     longing, I'll cry, ''Tis well!'\"\n\nNow when Al-Abbas had ended his verses, his father said to him,\n\"I seek refuge for thee with Allah, O my son! Hast thou any want\nthou art powerless to win, so I may endeavour for thee therein\nand lavish my treasures in its quest.\" Cried Al-Abbas, \"O my\npapa, I have, indeed, an urgent need, on whose account I came\nforth of my mother-land and left my people and my home and\naffronted perils and horrors and became an exile, and I trust in\nAllah that it may be accomplished by thy magnanimous endeavour.\"\nQuoth the King, \"And what is thy want?\" and quoth Al-Abbas, \"I\nwould have thee go and ask for me to wife Mariyah, daughter of\nthe King of Baghdad, for that my heart is distracted with love of\nher.\" Then he recounted to his father his adventure from first to\nlast. When the King heard this from his son, he rose to his feet\nand calling for his charger of parade, took horse with\nfour-and-twenty Emirs of the chief officers of his empire. Then\nhe betook himself to the palace of the King of Baghdad who, when\nhe saw him coming, bade his chamberlains open the doors to them\nand going down himself to meet them, received him with all honour\nand hospitality and carried him and his into the palace; then\ncausing make ready for them carpets and cushions, sat down upon\nhis golden throne and seated the guest by his side upon a chair\nof gold, framed in juniper-wood set with pearls and jewels.\nPresently he bade bring sweetmeats and confections and scents and\ncommanded to slaughter four and-twenty head of sheep and the like\nof oxen and make ready geese and chickens and pigeons stuffed and\nboiled, and spread the tables; nor was it long before the meats\nwere served up in vessels of gold and silver. So they ate their\nsufficiency and when they had eaten their fill, the tables were\nremoved and the wine-service set on and the cups and flagons\nranged in ranks, whilst the Mamelukes and the fair slave-girls\nsat down, with zones of gold about their waists, studded with all\nmanner pearls, diamonds, emeralds, rubies and other jewels.\nMoreover, the king bade fetch the musicians; so there presented\nthemselves before him twenty damsels with lutes and\npsalteries[FN#425] and viols, and smote upon instruments of music\nplaying and performing on such wise that they moved the assembly\nto delight. Then said Al-Aziz to the King of Baghdad, \"I would\nfain speak a word to thee; but do thou not exclude from us those\nwho are present. An thou consent unto my wish thine is ours and\non thee shall be whatso is on us;[FN#426] and we will be to thee\na mighty forearm against all unfriends and foes.\" Quoth Ins bin\nKays, \"Say what thou wilt, O King, for indeed thou excellest in\nspeech and in whatso thou sayest dost hit the mark.\" So Al-Aziz\nsaid to him, \"I desire that thou marry thy daughter Mariyah to my\nson Al-Abbas, for thou knowest what he hath of beauty and\nloveliness, brightness and perfect grace and his frequentation of\nthe valiant and his constancy in the stead of cut-and-thrust.\"\nSaid Ins bin Kays, \"By Allah, O King, of my love for Mariyah, I\nhave appointed her mistress of her own hand; accordingly,\nwhomsoever she chooseth of the folk, to him will I wed her.\" Then\nhe arose to his feet and going in to his daughter, found her\nmother with her; so he set out to them the case and Mariyah said,\n\"O my papa, my wish followeth thy word and my will ensueth thy\nwill; so whatsoever thou chooseth, I am obedient to thee and\nunder thy dominion.\" Therewith the King knew that Mariyah\ninclined to Al-Abbas; he therefore returned forthright to King\nAl-Aziz and said to him, \"May Allah amend the King! Verily, the\nwish is won and there is no opposition to that thou commandest.\"\nQuoth Al-Aziz, \"By Allah's leave are wishes won. How deemest\nthou, O King, of fetching Al-Abbas and documenting the\nmarriage-contract between Mariyah and him?\" and quoth Ins bin\nKays, \"Thine be the rede.\" So Al-Aziz sent after his son and\nacquainted him with that which had passed; whereupon Al-Abbas\ncalled for four-and-twenty mules and ten horses and as many\ncamels and loaded the mules with fathom-long pieces of silk and\nrugs of leather and boxes of camphor and musk and the camels and\nhorses with chests of gold and silver. Eke, he took the richest\nof the stuffs and wrapping them in wrappers of gold-purfled\nsilk, laid them on the heads of porters,[FN#427] and they fared\non with the treasures till they reached the King of Baghdad's\npalace, whereupon all who were present dismounted in honour of\nAl-Abbas and escorting him in a body to the presence of Ins bin\nKays, displayed to the King all that they had with them of things\nof price. The King bade carry all this into the store rooms of\nthe Harim and sent for the Kazis and the witnesses, who wrote out\nthe contract and married Mariyah to Al-Abbas, whereupon the\nPrince commanded slaughter one thousand head of sheep and five\nhundred buffaloes. So they spread the bride-feast and bade\nthereto all the tribes of the Arabs, men of tents and men of\ntowns, and the banquet continued for the space of ten days. Then\nAl-Abbas went into Mariyah in a commendable and auspicious hour\nand lay with her and found her a pearl unthridden and a goodly\nfilly no rider had ridden;[FN#428] wherefore he rejoiced and was\nglad and made merry, and care and sorrow ceased from him and his\nlife was pleasant and trouble departed and he ceased not abiding\nwith her in most joyful case and in the most easeful of life,\ntill seven days were past, when King Al-Aziz resolved to set out\nand return to his realm and bade his son seek leave of his\nfather-in-law to depart with his wife to his own country. So\nAl-Abbas spoke of this to King Ins, who granted him the\npermission he sought; whereupon he chose out a red\ncamel,[FN#429] taller and more valuable than the rest of the\ncamels, and loading it with apparel and ornaments, mounted\nMariyah in a litter thereon. Then they spread the ensigns and the\nstandards, whilst kettle-drums beat and the trumpets blared, and\nset out upon the homewards way. The King of Baghdad rode forth\nwith them and companied them three days' journey on their route,\nafter which he farewelled them and returned with his troops to\nBaghdad. As for King Al-Aziz and his son, they fared on night and\nday and gave not over going till there remained but three days'\njourney between them and Al-Yaman, when they despatched three men\nof the couriers to the Prince's mother to report that they were\nbringing with them Mariyah, the King's daughter of Baghdad, and\nreturning safe and laden with spoil. When the Oueen-mother heard\nthis, her wit took wings for joy and she adorned the slave-girls\nof Al-Abbas after the finest fashion. Now he had ten hand-maids,\nas they were moons, whereof his father had carried five with him\nto Baghdad, as hath erst been set forth, and the remaining five\nabode with his mother. When the dromedary-posts[FN#430] came,\nthey were certified of the approach of Al-Abbas, and when the sun\neasted and their flags were seen flaunting, the Prince's mother\ncame out to meet her son; nor on that day was there great or\nsmall, boy or grey-beard, but went forth to greet the king. Then\nthe kettle-drums of glad tidings beat and they entered in the\nutmost of pomp and the extreme of magnificence; so that the\ntribes and the townspeople heard of them and brought them the\nrichest of gifts and the rarest of presents and the Prince's\nmother rejoiced with joy exceeding. They butchered beasts and\nspread mighty bride-feasts for the people and kindled\nfires,[FN#431] that it might be visible afar to townsman and\ntribesman that this was the house of hospitality and the stead of\nthe wedding-festival, to the intent that, if any passed them by,\nit should be of his own sin against himself. So the folk came to\nthem from all districts and quarters and in this way they abode\ndays and months. Presently the Prince's mother bade fetch the\nfive slave-girls to that assembly; whereupon they came and the\nten damsels met. The queen seated five of them on her son's right\nhand and the other five on his left and the folk gathered about\nthem. Then she bade the five who had remained with her speak\nforth somewhat of poesy, so they might entertain therewith the\nseance and that Al-Abbas might rejoice thereat. Now she had clad\nthem in the costliest of clothes and adorned them with trinkets\nand ornaments and moulded work of gold and silver and collars of\ngold, wrought with pearls and gems. So they paced forward, with\nharps and lutes and zithers and recorders and other instruments\nof music before them, and one of them, a damsel who came from the\nland of China and whose name was B\ufffd'\ufffdthah, advanced and screwed\nup the strings of her lute. Then she cried out from the top of\nher head and recited these couplets,\n\n\"Indeed your land returned, when you returned, * To whilom light\n     which overgrew its gloom:\nGreen grew the land that was afore dust-brown. * And fruits that\n     failed again showed riping bloom:\nAnd clouds rained treasures after rain had lacked, * And plenty\n     poured from earth's re-opening womb.\nThen ceased the woes, my lords, that garred us weep, * With tears\n     like dragons' blood, our severance-doom,\nWhose length, by Allah, made me yeam and pine, * Would Heaven, O\n     lady mine, I were thy groom!\"\n\nWhen she had ended her song, all who were present were delighted\nand Al-Abbas rejoiced in this. Then he bade the second damsel\nsing somewhat on the same theme. So she came forward and\ntightening the strings of her harp, which was of balass\nruby,[FN#432] raised her voice in a plaintive air and improvised\nthese couplets,\n\n\"Brought the Courier glad news of our absentees,[FN#433] * To\n     please us through those who had wrought us unease:\nCried I, 'My life ransom thee, messenger man, * Thou hast kept\n     thy faith and thy boons are these.'\nAn the nightlets of union in you we joyed * When fared you naught\n     would our grief appease;\nYou sware that folk would to folk be true, * And you kept your\n     oaths as good faith decrees.\nTo you made I oath true lover am I * Heaven guard me when sworn\n     from all perjuries:\nI fared to meet you and loud I cried, * 'Aha, fair welcome when\n     come you please!\"\nAnd I joyed to meet you and when you came, * Deckt all the\n     dwelling with tapestries,\nAnd death in your absence to us was dight, * But your presence\n     bringeth us life and light.\"\n\nWhen she had made an end of her verse, Al-Abbas bade the third\ndamsel (who came from Samarkand of Ajam-land and whose name was\nRumm\ufffdnah) sing, and she answered, \"To hear is to obey.\" Then she\ntook the zither and crying out from the midst of her head,\nrecited and sang these couplets,[FN#434]\n\n\"My watering mouth declares thy myrtle-cheek my food to be * And\n     cull my lips thy side-face rose, who lily art to me!\nAnd twixt the dune and down there shows the fairest flower that\n     blooms * Whose fruitage is granado's fruit with all\n     granado's blee.[FN#435]\nForget my lids of eyne their sleep for magic eyes of him; *\n     Naught since he fared but drowsy charms and languorous air I\n     see.[FN#436]\nHe shot me down with shaft of glance from bow of eyebrow sped: *\n     What Chamberlain[FN#437] betwixt his eyes garred all my\n     pleasure flee?\nHaply shall heart of me seduce his heart by weakness' force *\n     E'en as his own seductive grace garred me love-ailment dree.\nFor an by him forgotten be our pact and covenant * I have a King\n     who never will forget my memory.\nHis sides bemock the bending charms of waving Tamarisk,[FN#438] *\n     And in his beauty-pride he walks as drunk with coquetry:\nHis feet and legs be feather-light whene'er he deigns to run *\n     And say, did any ride the wind except 'twere\n     Solomon?\"[FN#439]\n\nTherewith Al-Abbas smiled and her verses pleased him. Then he\nbade the fourth damsel come forward and sing (now she was from\nthe Sundown-land[FN#440] and her name was Balakhsh\ufffd); so she came\nforward and taking the lute and the zither, tuned the strings and\nsmote them in many modes; then she returned to the first and\nimprovising, sang these couplets,\n\n\"When to the s\ufffdance all for pleasure hied * Thy lamping eyes\n     illumined its every side;\n While playing round us o'er the wine-full bowl * Those\n     necklace-pearls old wine with pleasure plied,[FN#441]\nTill wits the wisest drunken by her grace * Betrayed for joyance\n     secrets sages hide;\nAnd, seen the cup, we bade it circle round * While sun and moon\n     spread radiance side and wide.\nWe raised for lover veil of love perforce * And came glad tidings\n     which new joys applied:\nLoud sang the camel-guide; won was our wish * Nor was the secret\n     by the spy espied:\nAnd, when my days were blest by union-bliss * And to all-parting\n     Time was aid denied,\nEach 'bode with other, clear of meddling spy * Nor feared we hate\n     of foe or neighbour-pride.\nThe sky was bright, friends came and severance fared * And\n     Love-in-union rained boons multiplied:\nSaying 'Fulfil fair union, all are gone * Rivals and fears lest\n     shaming foe deride:'\nFriends now conjoin\ufffdd are: wrong passed away * And meeting-cup\n     goes round and joys abide:\nOn you be Allah's Peace with every boon * Till end the dooming\n     years and time and tide.\"\n\nWhen Balakhsha had ended her verse, all present were moved to\ndelight and Al-Abbas said to her, \"Brava, O damsel!\" Then he bade\nthe fifth damsel come forward and sing (now she was from the land\nof Syria and her name was Rayh\ufffdnah; she was passing of voice and\nwhen she appeared in an assembly, all eyes were fixed upon her),\nso she came forward and taking the viol (for she was used to play\nupon all instruments) recited and sang these couplets,\n\n\"Your me-wards coming I hail to sight; * Your look is a joy\n     driving woe from sprite:\nWith you love is blest, pure and white of soul; * Life's sweet\n     and my planet grows green and bright:\nBy Allah, you-wards my pine ne'er ceased * And your like is rare\n     and right worthy hight.\nAsk my eyes an e'er since the day ye went * They tasted sleep,\n     looked on lover-wight:\nMy heart by the parting-day was broke * And my wasted body\n     betrays my plight:\nCould my blamers see in what grief am I, * They had wept in\n     wonder my loss, my blight!\nThey had joined me in shedding torrential tears * And like me\n     a-morn had shown thin and slight:\nHow long for your love shall your lover bear * This weight o'er\n     much for the hill's strong height?\nBy Allah what then for your sake was doomed * To my heart, a\n     heart by its woes turned white!\nAn showed I the fires that aye flare in me, * They had 'flamed\n     Eastern world and earth's Western site.\nBut after this is my love fulfilled * With joy and gladness and\n     mere delight;\nAnd the Lord who scattered hath brought us back * For who doeth\n     good shall of good ne'er lack.\"\n\nWhen King Al-Aziz heard the damsel's song, both words and verses\npleased him and he said to Al-Abbas, \"O my son, verily long\nversifying hath tired these damsels, and indeed they make us\nyearn after the houses and the homesteads with the beauty of\ntheir songs. These five have adorned our meeting with the charm\nof their melodies and have done well in that which they have said\nbefore those who are present; so we counsel thee to free them for\nthe love of Allah Almighty.\" Quoth Al-Abbas, \"There is no command\nbut thy command;\" and he enfranchised the ten damsels in the\nassembly; whereupon they kissed the hands of the King and his son\nand prostrated themselves in thanksgiving to the Lord of\nAll-might. Then they put off that which was upon them of\nornaments and laying aside the lutes and other instruments of\nmusic, kept to their houses like modest women and veiled, and\nfared not forth.[FN#442] As for King Al-Aziz, he lived after this\nseven years and was removed to the mercy of Almighty Allah; when\nhis son Al-Abbas bore him forth to burial as beseemeth kings and\nlet make for him perlections and professional recitations of the\nKoran. He kept up the mourning for his father during four\nsuccessive weeks, and when a full-told month had elapsed he sat\ndown on the throne of the kingship and judged and did justice and\ndistributed silver and gold. He also loosed all who were in the\njails and abolished grievances and customs dues and righted the\noppressed of the oppressor; so the lieges prayed for him and\nloved him and invoked on him endurance of glory and continuance\nof kingship and length of life and eternity of prosperity and\nhappiness. The troops submitted to him, and the hosts from all\nparts of the kingdom, and there came to him presents from each\nand every land: the kings obeyed him and many were his warriors\nand his grandees, and his subjects lived with him the most\neaseful of lives and the most delightsome. Meanwhile, he ceased\nnot, he and his beloved, Queen Mariyah, in the most enjoyable of\nlife and the pleasantest, and he was vouchsafed by her children;\nand indeed there befel friendship and affection between them and\nthe longer their companionship was prolonged, the more their love\nwaxed, so that they became unable to endure each from other a\nsingle hour, save the time of his going forth to the Divan, when\nhe would return to her in the liveliest that might be of longing.\nAnd after this fashion they abode in all solace of life and\nsatisfaction till there came to them the Destroyer of delights\nand the Severer of societies. So extolled be the Eternal whose\nsway endureth for ever and aye, who never unheedeth neither dieth\nnor sleepeth! This is all that hath come down to us of their\ntale, and so the Peace!\n\n\n\n\n                SHAHRAZAD AND SHAHRYAR.[FN#443]\n\n\n\nKing Shahryar marveled at this history[FN#444] and said, \"By\nAllah, verily, injustice slayeth its folk!\"[FN#445] And he was\nedified by that, wherewith Shahrazad bespoke him and sought help\nof Allah the Most High.  Then said he to her, \"Tell me another of\nthy tales, O Shahrazad; supply me with a pleasant story and this\nshall be the completion of the story-telling.\"Shahrazad replied,\n\"With love and gladness! It hath reached me, O\nauspicious King, that a man once declared to his mates, 'I will\nset forth to you a means of security against annoy.'  A friend of\nmine once related to me and said, \"We attained to security\nagainst annoy, and the origin of it was other than this; that is,\nit was the following'\"[FN#446]\n\n\n\n\n             TALE OF THE TWO KINGS AND THE WAZIR'S\n                       DAUGHTERS.[FN#447]\n\n\n\nI overtravelled whilome lands and climes and towns and visited\nthe cities of high renown and traversed the ways of dangers and\nhardships.  Towards the last of my life, I entered a city of the\ncities of China,[FN#448] wherein was a king of the Chosro\ufffds and\nthe Tobbas[FN#449] and the C\ufffdsars.[FN#450]  Now that city had\nbeen peopled with its inhabitants by means of justice and equity;\nbut its then king was a tyrant dire who despoiled lives and souls\nat his desire; in fine, there was no warming oneself at his fire,\n[FN#451] for that indeed he oppressed the believing band and\nwasted the land.  Now he had a younger brother, who was king in\nSamarkand of the Persians, and the two kings sojourned a while\nof time, each in his own city and stead, till they yearned unto\neach other and the elder king despatched his Wazir to fetch his\nyounger brother.  When the Minister came to the King of Samarkand\nand acquainted him with his errand, he submitted himself to the\nbidding of his brother and answered, \"To hear is to obey.\"  Then\nhe equipped himself and made ready for wayfare and brought forth\nhis tents and pavilions.  A while after midnight, he went in to\nhis wife, that he might farewell her, and found her with a\nstrange man, lying by her in one bed.  So he slew them both and\ndragging them out by the feet, cast them away and set forth on\nhis march.  When he came to his brother's court, the elder king\nrejoiced in him with joy exceeding and lodged him in the pavilion\nof hospitality beside his own palace. Now this pavilion\noverlooked a flower-garden belonging to the elder brother and\nthere the younger abode with him some days.  Then he called to\nmind that which his wife had done with him and remembered her\nslaughter and bethought him how he was a king, yet was not exempt\nfrom the shifts of Time; and this affected him with exceeding affect,\nso that it drave him to abstain from meat and drink, or, if he\nate anything, it profited him naught.  When his brother saw him\non such wise, he deemed that this had betided him by reason of\nseverance from his folk and family, and said to him, \"Come, let\nus fare forth a-coursing and a-hunting.\"  But he refused to go\nwith him; so the elder brother went to the chase, while the\nyounger abode in the pavilion aforesaid.  Now, as he was\ndiverting himself by looking out upon the flower-garden from the\nlatticed window of the palace, behold, he saw his brother's wife\nand with her ten black slaves and ten slave-girls.  Each slave\nlaid hold of a damsel and another slave came forth and did the\nlike with the queen; and when they had their wills one of other\nthey all returned whence they came.  Hereat there betided the\nKing of Samarkand exceeding surprise and solace and he was made\nwhole of his malady, little by little.  After a few days, his\nbrother returned, and finding him cured of his complaint, said to\nhim, \"Tell me, O my brother, what was the cause of thy sickness\nand thy pallor, and what is the reason of the return of health to\nthee and of rosiness to thy face after this?\"  So he acquainted\nhim with the whole case and this was grievous to him; but they\nhid their affair and agreed to leave the kingship and fare forth\na-pilgrimaging and adventuring at hap-hazard, for they deemed\nthat there had befallen none the like of what had befallen them.\nAccordingly, they went forth and as they journeyed, they saw by\nthe way a woman imprisoned in seven chests, whereon were five\npadlocks, and sunken deep in the midst of the salt sea, under the\nguardianship of an Ifrit; yet for all this that woman issued out\nof the ocean and opened those padlocks and coming forth of those\nchests, did what she would with the two brothers, after she had\npractised upon the Ifrit.  When the two kings saw that woman's\nfashion and how she circumvented the Ifrit, who had lodged her in\nthe abyss of the main, they turned back to their kingdoms and the\nyounger betook himself to Samarkand, whilst the elder returned to\nChina and contrived for himself a custom in the slaughter of\ndamsels, which was, his Wazir used to bring him every night a\ngirl, with whom he lay that night, and when he arose in the\nmorning, he gave her to the Minister and bade him do her die.\nAfter this fashion he abode a long time, whilst the folk murmured and God's creatures were destroyed and the commons cried\nout by reason of that grievous affair into which they were fallen\nand feared the wrath of Allah Almighty, dreading lest He destroy\nthem by means of this.  Still the king persisted in that practice\nand in his blameworthy intent of the killing of damsels and the\ndespoilment of maidens concealed by veils,[FN#452] wherefore the\ngirls sought succour of the Lord of All-might, and complained to\nHim of the tyranny of the king and of his oppression.  Now the\nking's Wazir had two daughters, sisters german, the elder of whom\nhad read the books and made herself mistress of the sciences and\nstudied the writings of the sages and the stories of the cup-\ncompanions,[FN#453] and she was a maiden of abundant lore and\nknowledge galore and wit than which naught can be more.  She\nheard that which the folk suffered from that king in his misuage\nof their children; whereupon ruth for them gat hold of her and\njealousy and she besought Allah Almighty that He would bring the\nking to renounce that his new and accursed custom,[FN#454] and the\nLord answered her prayer.  Then she consulted her younger sister\nand said to her, \"I mean to devise a device for freeing the\nchildren of folk; to wit, I will go up to the king and offer\nmyself to marry him, and when I come to his presence, I will send\nto fetch thee.  When thou comest in to me and the king had his\ncarnal will of me, do thou say to me, 'O my sister, let me hear a\nstory of thy goodly stories, wherewith we may beguile the waking\nhours of our night, till the dawn, when we take leave of each\nother; and let the king hear it likewise!'\"  The other replied,\n\"'Tis well; forsure this contrivance will deter the king from\nthis innovation he practiseth and thou shalt be requited with\nfavour exceeding and recompense abounding in the world to come,\nfor that indeed thou perilest thy life and wilt either perish or\nwin to thy wish.\"  So she did this and Fortune favoured her and\nthe Divine direction was vouchsafed to her and she discovered her\ndesign to her sire, the Wazir, who thereupon forbade her, fearing\nher slaughter.  However, she repeated her words to him a second\ntime and a third, but he consented not.  Then he cited to her a\nparable, which should deter her, and she cited to him a parable\nof import contrary to his, and the debate was prolonged between\nthem and the adducing of instances, till her father saw that he\nwas powerless to turn her from her purpose and she said to him,\n\"There is no help but that I marry the King, so haply I may be a\nsacrifice for the children of the Moslems: either I shall turn\nhim from this his heresy or I shall die.\"  When the Minister\ndespaired of dissuading her, he went up to the king and\nacquainted him with the case, saying, \"I have a maiden daughter\nand she desireth to give herself in free gift to the King.\"\nQuoth the King, \"How can thy soul consent to this, seeing that\nthou knowest I abide but a single night with a girl and when I\narise on the morrow, I do her dead, and 'tis thou who slayest\nher, and again and again thou hast done this?\" Quoth the Wazir,\n\"Know, O king, that I have set forth all this to her, yet\nconsented she not to aught, but needs must she have thy company\nand she chooseth to come to thee and present herself before thee,\nalbeit I have cited to her the sayings of the sages; but she hath\nanswered me with more than that which I said to her and\ncontrariwise.\"  Then quoth the king, \"Suffer her visit me this\nnight and to-morrow morning come thou and take her and kill her;\nand by Allah, an thou slay her not, I will slay thee and her\nalso!\"  The Minister obeyed the king's bidding and going out from\nthe presence returned home.  When it was night, he took his elder\ndaughter and carried her up to the king; and when she came before\nhim she wept;[FN#455] whereupon he asked her, \"What causeth thee\nto weep? Indeed, 'twas thou who willedst this.\"  She answered, \"I\nweep not but of longing after my little sister; for that, since\nwe grew up, I and she, I have never been parted from her till\nthis day; so, an it please the King to send for her, that I may\nlook on her, and listen to her speech and take my fill of her\ntill the morning, this were a boon and an act of kindness of the\nKing.\"  So he bade fetch the damsel and she came.  Then there\nbefel that which befel of his union with the elder\nsister,[FN#456] and when he went up to his couch, that he might\nsleep, the younger sister said to her elder, \"Allah upon thee, O\nmy sister, an thou be not asleep, tell us a tale of thy goodly\ntales, wherewith me may beguile the watches of our night, ere day\ndawn and parting.\"  Said she, \"With love and gladness;\" and fell\nto relating to her, whilst the king listened.  Her story was\ngoodly and delectable, and whilst she was in the midst of\ntelling it, the dawn brake.  Now the king's heart clave to the\nhearing of the rest of the story; so he respited her till the\nmorrow; and, when it was the next night, she told him a tale\nconcerning the marvels of the land and the wonders of Allah's\ncreatures which was yet stranger and rarer than the first.  In\nthe midst of the recital, appeared the day and she was silent\nfrom the permitted say.  So he let her live till the following\nnight, that he might hear the end of the history and after that\nslay her.  On this wise it fortuned with her; but as regards the\npeople of the city, they rejoiced and were glad and blessed the\nWazir's daughters, marvelling for that three days had passed and\nthat the king had not put his bride to death and exulting in that\nhe had returned to the ways of righteousness and would never\nagain burthen himself with blood-guilt against any of the maidens\nof the city.  Then, on the fourth night, she related to him a\nstill more extraordinary adventure, and on the fifth night she\ntold him anecdotes of Kings and Wazirs and Notables.  Brief, she\nceased not to entertain him many days and nights, while the king still\nsaid to himself, \"Whenas I shall have heard the end of the tale,\nI will do her die,\" and the people redoubled their marvel and\nadmiration.  Also, the folk of the circuits and cities heard of\nthis thing, to wit, that the king had turned from his custom and\nfrom that which he had imposed upon himself and had renounced his\nheresy, wherefor they rejoiced and the lieges returned to the\ncapital and took up there abode therein, after they had departed\nthence; and they were constant in prayer to Allah Almighty that\nHe would stablish the king in his present stead.\" \"And this,\" said\nShahrazad, \"is the end of that which my friend related to me.\"\nQuoth Shahryar,[FN#457] \"O Shahrazad, finish for us the tale thy\nfriend told thee, inasmuch as it resembleth the story of a King\nwhom I knew; but fain would I hear that which betided the people\nof this city and what they said of the affair of the King, so I\nmay return from the case wherein I was.\"  She replied, \"With love\nand gladness!\"  Know, O auspicious king and lord of right rede\nand praiseworthy meed and prowest of deed, that, when the folk\nheard how the king had put away from him his malpractice and\nreturned from his unrighteous wont, they rejoiced in this with\njoy exceeding and offered up prayers for him.  Then they talked\none with other of the cause of the slaughter of the maidens, and\nthe wise said, \"Women are not all alike, nor are the fingers of\nthe hand alike.\"  Now when King Shahryar heard this story he came\nto himself and awakening from his drunkenness,[FN#458] said, \"By\nAllah, this story is my story and this case is my case, for that\nindeed I was in reprobation and danger of judgment till thou\nturnedst me back from this into the right way, extolled be the\nCauser of causes and the Liberator of necks!\" presently adding,\n\"Indeed, O Shahrazad, thou hast awakened me to many things and\nhast aroused me from mine ignorance of the right.\" Then said she\nto him, \"O chief of the kings, the wise say, 'The kingship is a\nbuilding, whereof the troops are the base, and when the\nfoundation is strong, the building endureth;' wherefore it\nbehoveth the king to strengthen the foundation, for that they\nsay, 'Whenas the base is weak, the building falleth.'  In like\nfashion it befitteth the king to care for his troops and do\njustice among his lieges, even as the owner of the garden careth\nfor his trees and cutteth away the weeds that have no profit in\nthem; and so it befitteth the king to look into the affairs of\nhis Ryots and fend off oppression from them.  As for thee, O\nking, it behoveth thee that thy Wazir be virtuous and experienced\nin the requirements of the people and the peasantry; and indeed\nAllah the Most High hath named his name[FN#459] in the history of\nMus\ufffd (on whom be the Peace!) when he saith, 'And make me a Wazir\nof my people, Aaron.'  Now could a Wazir have been dispensed\nwithal, Moses son of Imr\ufffdn had been worthier than any to do\nwithout a Minister.  As for the Wazir, the Sultan discovereth\nunto him his affairs, private and public; and know, O king, that\nthe likeness of thee with the people is that of the leach with\nthe sick man; and the essential condition of the Minister is that\nhe be soothfast in his sayings, reliable in all his relations,\nrich in ruth for the folk and in tenderness of transacting with\nthem.  Verily, it is said, O king, that good troops be like the\ndruggist; if his perfumes reach thee not, thou still smellest the\nfragrance of them; and bad entourage be like the blacksmith; if\nhis sparks burn thee not, thou smellest his evil smell.  So it\nbefitteth thee to take to thyself a virtuous Wazir, a veracious\ncounsellor, even as thou takest unto thee a wife displayed before\nthy face, because thou needest the man's righteousness for thine\nown right directing, seeing that, if thou do righteously, the\ncommons will do right, and if thou do wrongously, they will also\ndo wrong.\"  When the King heard this, drowsiness overcame him and\nhe slept and presently awaking, called for the candles; so they\nwere lighted and he sat down on his couch and seating Shahrazad\nby him, smiled in her face.  She kissed the ground before him and\nsaid, \"O king of the age and lord of the time and the years,\nextolled be the Forgiving, the Bountiful, who hath sent me to\nthee, of His grace and good favour, so I have incited thee to\nlonging after Paradise; for verily this which thou wast wont do\nwas never done of any of the kings before thee.  Then laud be to\nthe Lord who hath directed thee into the right way, and who from\nthe paths of frowardness hath diverted thee!  As for women, Allah\nAlmighty maketh mention of them also when He saith in His Holy\nBook, 'Truly, the men who resign themselves to Allah[FN#460] and\nthe women who resign themselves, and the true-believing men and\nthe true-believing women and the devout men and the devout women\nand truthful men and truthful women, and long-suffering men and\nlong-suffering women, and the humble men and the humble women,\nand charitable men and charitable women, and the men who fast and\nthe women who fast, and men who guard their privities and women\nwho guard their privities, and men who are constantly mindful of\nAllah and women who are constantly mindful, for them Allah hath\nprepared forgiveness and a rich reward.'[FN#461]  As for that\nwhich hath befallen thee, verily, it hath befallen many kings\nbefore thee and their women have falsed them, for all they were\nmore majestical of puissance than thou, and mightier of kingship\nand had troops more manifold.  If I would, I could relate unto\nthee, O king, concerning the wiles of women, that whereof I\nshould not make an end all my life long; and indeed, in all these\nmy nights that I have passed before thee, I have told thee many\ntales of the wheedling of women and of their craft; but soothly\nthe things abound on me;[FN#462] so, an thou please, O king, I\nwill relate to thee somewhat of that which befel olden kings of\nperfidy from their women and of the calamities which overtook\nthem by reason of these deceivers.\"\" Asked the king, \"How so?\nTell on;\" and she answered, \"Hearkening and obedience.  It hath\nbeen told me, O king, that a man once related to a company the\nfollowing tale of\n\n\n\n\n             THE CONCUBINE AND THE CALIPH.\"[FN#463]\n\n\n\nOne day of the days, as I stood at the door of my house, and the\nheat was excessive, behold, I saw a fair woman approaching, and\nwith her a slave-girl carrying a parcel.  They gave not over\ngoing till they came up to me, when the woman stopped and asked\nme, \"Hast thou a draught of water?\"  answered I, \"Yes, enter the\nvestibule, O my lady, so thou mayst drink.\"  Accordingly she\ncame in and I went up into the house and fetched two gugglets of\nearthenware, smoked with musk[FN#464] and full of cold water.\nShe took one of them and discovered her face, the better to\ndrink; whereupon I saw that she was as the rising moon or the\nresplendent sun and said to her, \"O my lady, wilt thou not come\nup into the house, so thou mayst rest thyself till the air cool\nand afterwards fare thee to thine own place?\"  quoth she, \"Is\nthere none with thee?\" and quoth I, \"Indeed I am a bachelor and\nhave none belonging to me, nor is there a wight in the\nsite;[FN#465] whereupon she said, \"An thou be a stranger, thou\nart he in quest of whom I was going about.\"  So she went up into\nthe house and doffed her walking dress and I found her as she\nwere the full moon. I brought her what I had by me of food and\ndrink and said to her, \"O my lady, excuse me: this is all that is\nready;\" and said she, \"This is right good[FN#466] and indeed 'tis\nwhat I sought.\" Then she ate and gave the slave-girl that which\nwas left; after which I brought her a casting-bottle of musked\nrose-water, and she washed her hands and abode with me till the\nseason of mid-afternoon prayer, when she brought out of the\nparcel she had with her a shirt and trousers and an upper\ngarment[FN#467] and a gold-worked kerchief and gave them to me;\nsaying, \"Know that I am one of the concubines of the Caliph, and\nwe be forty concubines, each of whom hath a cicisbeo who cometh\nto her as often as she would have him; and none is without a\nlover save myself, wherefore I came forth this day to get me a\ngallant and now I have found thee.  Thou must know that the\nCaliph lieth each night with one of us, whilst the other nine-\nand-thirty concubines take their ease with the nine-and-thirty\nmasculines, and I would have thee company with me on such a day, when do\nthou come up to the palace of the Caliph and sit awaiting me in\nsuch a place, till a little eunuch come out to thee and say to\nthee a certain watch-word which is, 'Art thou Sandal?'  Answer\n'Yes,' and wend thee with him.\"  Then she took leave of me and I\nof her, after I had strained her to my bosom and thrown my arms\nround her neck and we had exchanged kisses awhile.  So she fared\nforth and I abode patiently expecting the appointed day, till it\ncame, when I arose and went out, intending for the trysting-place; but a friend of mine met me by the way and made me go home\nwith him.  I accompanied him and when I came up into his sitting-\nchamber he locked the door on me and walked out to fetch what we\nmight eat and drink.  He was absent until midday, then till the\nhour of mid-afternoon prayer, whereat I was chagrined with sore\nconcern.  Then he was missing until sundown, and I was like to\ndie of vexation and impatience; and indeed he returned not and I\npassed my night on wake, nigh upon death, for the door was locked\non me, and my soul was like to depart my body on account of the\nassignation.  At daybreak, my friend returned and opening the\ndoor, came in, bringing with him meat-pudding[FN#468] and\nfritters and bees' honey, and said to me, \"By Allah, thou must\nneeds excuse me, for that I was with a company and they locked\nthe door on me and have let me go but this very moment.\"  I\nreturned him no reply; however, he set before me that which was\nwith him and I ate a single mouthful and went out running at\nspeed so haply I might overtake the rendezvous which had escaped\nme.  When I came to the palace, I saw over against it eight-and-\nthirty gibbets set up, whereon were eight-and-thirty men\ncrucified, and under them eight-and-thirty[FN#469] concubines as\nthey were moons.  So I asked the cause of the crucifixion of the\nmen and concerning the women in question, and it was said unto\nme, \"The men thou seest crucified the Caliph found with yonder\ndamsels, who be his bed-fellows.\"  When I heard this, I\nprostrated myself in thanksgiving to Allah and said, \"The\nAlmighty require thee with all good, O my friend!\"  For had he\nnot invited me and locked me up in his house that night, I had\nbeen crucified with these men, wherefore Alhamdolillah--laud to\nthe Lord!  \"On this wise\" (continued Shahrazad), \"none is safe\nfrom the calamities of the world and the vicissitudes of Time,\nand in proof of this, I will relate unto thee yet another story\nstill rarer and stranger than this.  Know, O king, that one said\nto me: A friend of mine, a merchant, told me the following tale of\n\n\n\n\n               THE CONCUBINE OF AL-MAAMUN[FN#470]\n\n\n\nAs I sat one day in my shop, there came up to me a fair woman, as\nshe were the moon at its rising, and with her a hand-maid.  Now I\nwas a handsome man in my time; so that lady sat down on my\nshop[FN#471] and buying stuffs of me, paid the price and went her\nways.  I asked the girl anent her and she answered, \"I know not\nher name.\"  Quoth I, \"Where is her abode?\"  Quoth she, \"In\nheaven;\" and I, \"She is presently on the earth; so when doth she\nascend to heaven and where is the ladder by which she goeth\nup?\"[FN#472]  The girl retorted, \"She hath her lodging in a\npalace between two rivers,[FN#473] that is, in the palace of Al-\nMaam\ufffdn al-H\ufffdkim bi-Amri 'llah.\"[FN#474]  Then said I, \"I am a\ndead man, without a doubt;\" but she replied, \"Have patience, for\nneeds must she return to thee and buy other stuffs of thee.\"  I\nasked, \"And how cometh it that the Commander of the Faithful\ntrusteth her to go out?\" and she answered, \"He loveth her with\nexceeding love and is wrapped up in her and crosseth her not.\"\nThen the slave-girl went away, running after her mistress;\nwhereupon I left the shop and followed them, so I might see her\nabiding-place. I kept them in view all the way, till she\ndisappeared from mine eyes, when I returned to my place, with\nheart a-fire.  Some days after, she came to me again and bought\nstuffs of me:  I refused to take the price and she cried, \"We\nhave no need of thy goods.\"  Quoth I, \"O my lady, accept them\nfrom me as a gift;\" but quoth she, \"Wait till I try thee and make\nproof of thee.\"  Then she brought out of her pocket a purse and\ngave me therefrom a thousand dinars, saying, \"Trade with this\ntill I return to thee.\"  So I took the purse and she went away\nand returned not till six months had passed.  Meanwhile, I traded\nwith the money and sold and bought and made other thousand dinars\nprofit on it.  At last she came to me again and I said to her,\n\"Here is thy money and I have gained with it other thousand\nducats;\" and she, \"Let it lie by thee and take these other\nthousand dinars.  As soon as I have departed from thee, go thou\nto Al-Rauzah, the Garden-holm, and build there a goodly pavilion,\nand when the edifice is accomplished, give me to know thereof. So saying, she left me and went away.\nAs soon as she was gone, I betook myself to Al-Rauzah and fell to\nbuilding the pavilion, and when it was finished, I furnished it\nwith the finest of furniture and sent to tell her that I had made\nan end to the edifice; whereupon she sent back to me, saying,\n\"Let him meet me to-morrow about day-break at the Zuwaylah gate\nand bring with him a strong ass.\"  I did as she bade and,\nbetaking myself to the Zuwaylah gate, at the appointed time,\nfound there a young man on horseback, awaiting her, even as I\nawaited her.  As we stood, behold, up she came, and with her a\nslave-girl.  When she saw that young man, she asked him, \"Art\nthou here?\" and he answered, \"Yes, O my lady.\"  Quoth she, \"To-\nday I am invited by this man: wilt thou wend with us?\" and quoth\nhe, \"Yes.\"  Then said she, \"Thou hast brought me hither against\nmy will and parforce.  Wilt thou go with us in any case?\"[FN#475]\nHe cried, \"Yes, yes,\" and we fared on, all three, till we came\nto Al-Rauzah and entered the pavilion.  The dame diverted herself\nawhile with viewing its ordinance and furniture, after which she\ndoffed her walking-dress and sat down with the young man in the\ngoodliest and chiefest place.  Then I fared forth and brought\nthem what they should eat at the first of the day; presently I\nagain went out and fetched them what they should eat at the end\nof the day and brought for the twain wine and dessert and fruits\nand flowers.  After this fashion I abode in their service,\nstanding on my feet, and she said not unto me, \"Sit,\" nor \"Take,\neat\" nor \"Take, drink,\" while she and the young man sat toying\nand laughing, and he feel to kissing her and pinching her and\nhopping over the ground[FN#476] and laughing.  They remained thus\nawhile and presently she said, \"Hitherto we have not become\ndrunken; let me pour out.\"  So she took the cup, and crowning it,\ngave him to drink and plied him with wine, till he lost his wits,\nwhen she took him up and carried him into a closet.  Then she\ncame out, with the head of that youth in her hand, while I stood\nsilent, fixing not mine eyes on her eyes neither questioning her\nof the case; and she asked me, \"What be this?\" \"I wot not,\" answered I; and she said,  \"Take it and throw it in the\nriver.\"  I accepted her commandment and she arose and stripping\nherself of her clothes, took a knife and cut the dead man's body\nin pieces, which she laid in three baskets, and said to me,\n\"Throw them into the river.\" I did her bidding and when I\nreturned, she said to me, \"Sit, so I may relate to thee yonder\nfellow's case, lest thou be affrighted at what accident hath\nbefallen him.  Thou must know that I am the Caliph's favourite\nconcubine, nor is there any higher in honour with him than I; and\nI am allowed six nights in each month, wherein I go down into the\ncity and tarry with my whilome mistress who reared me; and when I\ngo down thus, I dispose of myself as I will.  Now this young man\nwas the son of certain neighbours of my mistress, when I was a\nvirgin girl. One day, my mistress was sitting with the chief\nofficers of the palace and I was alone in the house, and as the\nnight came on, I went up to the terrace-roof in order to sleep\nthere, but ere I was ware, this youth came up from the street and\nfalling upon me knelt on my breast.  He was armed with a dagger\nand I could not get free of him till he had taken my maidenhead\nby force; and this sufficed him not, but he must needs disgrace\nme with all the folk for, as often as I came down from the\npalace, he would stand in wait for me by the way and futtered me\nagainst my will and follow me whithersoever I went.  This, then, is\nmy story, and as for thee, thou pleasest me and thy patience\npleaseth me and thy good faith and loyal service, and there\nabideth with me none dearer than thou.\"  Then I lay with her that\nnight and there befel what befel between us till the morning,\nwhen she gave me abundant wealth and took to meeting me at the\npavilion six days in every month.  After this wise we passed a\nwhole year, at the end of which she cut herself off from me a\nmonth's space, wherefore fire raged in my heart on her account.\nWhen it was the next month, behold , a little eunuch presented\nhimself to me and said, \"I am a messenger to thee from Such-an-\none, who giveth thee to know that the Commander of the Faithful\nhath ordered her to be drowned, her and those who are with her, six-\nand-twenty slave-girls, on such a day at Dayr al-Tin,[FN#477] for\nthat they have confessed of lewdness, one against other and she\nsayeth to thee, 'Look how thou mayst do with me and how thou\nmayst contrive to deliver me, even an thou gather together all\nmy money and spend it upon me, for that this be the time of\nmanhood.'\"[FN#478]  Quoth I, \"I know not this woman; belike it is\nother than I to whom this message is sent; so beware, O Eunuch,\nlest thou cast me into a cleft.\"  Quoth he, \"Behold, I have told\nthee that I had to say,\" and went away, leaving me in sore\nconcern on her account.  Now when the appointed day came, I\narose and changing my clothes and favour, donned sailor's\napparel; then I took with me a purse full of gold and buying a\nright good breakfast, accosted a boatman at Dayr al-Tin and sat\ndown and ate with him; after which I asked him, \"Wilt thou hire\nme thy boat?\"  Answered he, \"The Commander of the Faithful hath\ncommanded me to be here;\" and he told me the tale of the\nconcubines and how the Caliph purposed to drown them that day.\nWhen I heard this from him, I brought out to him ten gold pieces\nand discovered to him my case, whereupon he said to me, \"O my\nbrother, get thee empty gourds, and when thy mistress cometh,\ngive me to know of her and I will contrive the trick.\"  So I\nkissed his hand and thanked him and, as I was walking about,\nwaiting, up came the guards and eunuchs escorting the women, who\nwere weeping and shrieking and farewelling one another.  The\nCastratos cried out to us, whereupon we came with the boat, and\nthey said to the sailor, \"Who be this?\" Said he, \"This be my mate\nwhom I have brought to help me, so one of us may keep the boat,\nwhilst another doth your service.\"  Then they brought out to us\nthe women, one by one, saying \"Throw them in by the Island;\" and\nwe replied, \"'Tis well.\"  Now each of them was shackled and they\nhad made fast about her neck a jar of sand.  We did as the\nneutrals bade us and ceased not to take the women, one after\nother, and cast them in, till they gave us my mistress and I\nwinked to my mate.  So we took her and carried her out into mid-stream, where I threw to her the empty\ngourds[FN#479] and said to her, \"Wait for me at the mouth of the\nCanal.\"[FN#480] Then we cast her in alongside the boat, after we had loosed the jar of sand from her legs[FN#480a] and done off her shackles, and returned.\nNow there remained one woman after her: so we\ntook her and drowned her and the eunuchs went away, whilst we\ndropped down the river with the craft till we came to the mouth of Khalij, where I saw my mistress\nawaiting me.  We haled her into the canoe and returned to our\npavilion on Al-Rauzah.  Then I rewarded the sailor and he took his boat and\nwent away; whereupon quoth she to me, \"Thou art indeed the friend\never faithful found for the shifts of Fortune.\"[FN#481]  and I\nsojourned with her some days; but the shock wrought upon her so\nthat she sickened and fell to wasting away and redoubled in langour and\nweakness till she died.  I mourned for her with exceeding mourning and buried her; after\nwhich I removed all that was in the pavilion and abandoned the\nbuilding.   Now she had brought to that pavilion a little coffer\nof copper and laid it in a place whereof I knew not; so, when the\nInspector of Inheritances[FN#482] came, he rummaged the house and\nfound the coffer, with the key in the lock.  Presently he opened it and seeing it full of jewels and jacinths and earrings and seal-rings and precious stones (and 'twas a matter such as is not found save with kings and sultans), took it, and me with it, and he and his men ceased not to\nput me to the question with beating and torment till I confessed to them the whole affair, from beginning to end.  Thereupon they carried me to the Caliph and I told him all that had passed between me and her; and he said to\nme, \"O man, depart this city, for I release thee on account of\nthy courage and because of thy constancy in keeping thy secret\nand thy daring in exposing thyself to death.\"  So I arose\nforthwith and fared from his city; and this is what befel me.\n\n\n\n\n                     Variants and Analogues\n                               of\n                       Some of the Tales\n                               in\n                      Volumes XI. and XII.\n\n                      By. W. A. Clouston.\n\n    Author of \"Popular Tales and Fictions: Their Migrations\n                   and Transformations,\" Etc.\n\n\n\n                            Appendix\n\n\n\n          Variants and Analogues of Some of the Tales\n                     in Volumes XI and XII\n\n                       By W. A. Clouston.\n\n\n\n\n\n           THE SLEEPER AND THE WAKER--Vol. XI. p. 1.\n\n\n\nFew if the stories in the \"Arabian Nights\" which charmed our\nmarvelling boyhood were greater favourites than this one, under\nthe title of \"Abou Hassan; or, the Sleeper Awakened.\"  What\nrecked we in those days whence it was derived?--the story--the\nstory was the thing!  As Sir R. F. Burton observes in his first\nnote, this is \"the only one of the eleven added by Galland, whose\noriginal has been discovered in Arabic;\"[FN#483] and it is\nprobable that Galland heard it recited in a coffee-house during\nhis residence in Constantinople.  The plot of the Induction to\nShakspeare's comedy of \"The Taming of the Shrew\" is similar to\nthe adventure of Ab\ufffd al-Hasan the Wag, and is generally believed\nto have been adapted from a story entitled \"The Waking Man's\nFortune\" in Edward's collection of comic tales, 1570, which were\nretold somewhat differently in Goulart's \"Admirable and Memorable\nHistories,\" 1607; both versions are reprinted in Mr. Hazlitt's\n\"Shakspeare Library,\" vol. iv., part I, pp. 403-414.  In Percy's\n\"Reliques of Ancient English Poetry\" we find the adventure told\nin a ballad entitled \"The Frolicksome Duke; or, the Tinker's Good\nFortune,\" from the Pepys collection: \"whether it may be thought\nto have suggested the hint to Shakspeare or is not rather of\nlatter date,\" says Percy, \"the reader must determine:\"\n\nNow as fame does report, a young duke keeps a court,\nOne that pleases his fancy with frolicksome sport:\nBut amongst all the rest, here is one, I protest,\nWhich will make you to smile when you hear the true jest:\nA poor tinker he found lying drunk on the ground,\nAs secure in a sleep as if laid in a swownd.\n\nThe duke said to his men, William, Richard, and Ben,\nTake him home to my palace, we'll sport with him then.\nO'er a horse he was laid, and with care soon convey'd\nTo the palace, altho' he was poorly arrai'd;\nThen they stript off his cloaths, both his shirt, shoes, and\nhose,\nAnd they put him in bed for to take his repose.\n\nHaving pull'd off his shirt, which was all over durt,\nThey did give him clean holland, this was no great hurt:\nOn a bed of soft down, like a lord of renown,\nThey did lay him to sleep the drink out of his crown.\nIn the morning when day, then admiring[FN#484] he lay,\nFor to see the rich chamber both gaudy and gay.\n\nNow he lay something late, in his rich bed of state,\nTill at last knights and squires they on him did wait;\nAnd the chamberling bare, then did likewise declare,\nHe desired to know what apparel he'd ware:\nThe poor tinker amaz'd, on the gentleman gaz'd,\nAnd admired how he to this honour was rais'd.\n\nTho' he seem'd something mute, yet he chose a rich suit,\nWhich he straitways put on without longer dispute;\nWith a star on his side, which the tinker offt ey'd,\nAnd it seem'd for to swell him no little with pride;\nFor he said to himself, Where is Joan my sweet wife?\nSure she never did see me so fine in her life.\n\nFrom a convenient place, the right duke his good grace\nDid observe his behavior in every case.\nTo a garden of state, on the tinker they wait,\nTrumpets sounding before him: thought he this is great:\nWhere an hour or two, pleasant walks he did view,\nWith commanders and squires in scarlet and blew.\n\nA find dinner was drest, both for him and his guests,\nHe was placed at the table above all the rest,\nIn a rich chair, or bed, lin'd with fine crimson red,\nWith a rich golden canopy over his head:\nAs he sat at his meat, the musick play'd sweet,\nWith the choicest of singing his joys to compleat.\n\nWhile the tinker did dine, he had plenty of wine.\nRich canary with sherry and tent superfine,\nLike a right honest soul, faith, he took off his bowl,\nTill at last he began for to tumble and roul\nFrom his chair to the floor, where he sleeping did snore,\nBeing seven times drunker than ever before.\n\nThen the duke did ordain, they should strip him amain,\nAnd restore him his old leather garments again:\n'Twas a point next the worst, yet perform it they must,\nAnd they carry'd him strait, where they found him at first;\nThen he slept all the night, as indeed well he might,\nBut when he did waken, his joys took their flight.\n\nFor his glory to him so pleasant did seem,\nThat he thought it to be but a meer golden dream;\nTill at length he was brought to the duke, where he sought\nFor a pardon as fearing he had set him at nought;\nBut his highness he said, Thou'rt a jolly bold blade,\nSuch a frolick before I think never was plaid.\n\nThen his highness bespoke him a new suit and cloak,\nWhich he gave for the sake of this frolicksome joak;\nNay, and five hundred pound, with ten acres of ground\nThou shalt never, said he, range the counteries round,\nCrying old brass to mend, for I'll be thy good friend,\nNay, and Joan thy sweet wife shall my duchess attend.\n\nThen the tinker reply'd, What! must Joan my sweet bride\nBe a lady in chariots of pleasure to ride?\nMust we have gold and land ev'ry day at command?\nThen I shall be a squire I well understand:\nWell I thank your good grace, and your love I embrace,\nI was never before in so happy a case.\n\nThe same story is also cited in the \"Anatomy of Melancholy,\" part\n2, sec. 2, memb. 4, from Ludovicus Vives in Epist.[FN#485] and Pont.\nHeuter in Rerum Burgund., as follows:\n\n\"It is reported of Philippus Bonus, that good Duke of Burgundy,\nthat the said duke, at the marriage of Eleonora, sister to the\nKing of Portugal, at Bruges in Flanders, which was solemnized in\nthe deep of winter, when as by reason of the unseasonable (!)\nweather he could neither hawk nor hunt, and was now tyred with\ncards, dice, &c., and such other domestical sports, or to see\nladies dance, with some of his courtiers, he would in the evening\nwalk disguised all about the town.  It so fortuned as he was\nwalking late one night, he found a country fellow dead drunk,\nsnorting on a bulk; he caused his followers to bring him to his\npalace, and there stripping him of his old clothes, and attiring\nhim after the court fashion, when he waked, he and they were all\nready to attend upon his excellency, persuading him that he was\nsome great duke.  The poor fellow, admiring how he came there,\nwas served in state all the day long; after supper he saw them\ndance, heard musick, and the rest of those court-like pleasures;\nbut late at night, when he was well tipled, and again fast asleep\nthey put on his old robes, and so conveyed him to the place where\nthey first found him.  Now the fellow had not made them so good\nsport the day before, as he did when he returned to himself; all\nthe jest was to see how he looked upon it.  In conclusion, after\nsome little admiration, the poor man told his friends he had seen\na vision, constantly beleeved it, would not otherwise be\nperswaded; and so the jest ended.\"\n\nI do not think that this is a story imported from the East: the\nadventure is just as likely to have happened in Bruges as in\nBaghd\ufffdd; but the exquisite humor of the Arabian tale is wanting-\n-even Shakspeare's Christopher Sly is not to be compared with\nhonest Ab\ufffd al-Hasan the Wag.\n\nThis story of the Sleeper and the Waker recalls the similar\ndevice practised by the Chief of the Assassins--that formidable,\nmurderous association, the terror of the Crusades--on promising\nnovices.  Von Hammer, in his \"History of the Assassins,\" end of\nBook iv., gives a graphic description of the charming gardens\ninto which the novices were carried while insensible from\nhashish:\n\nIn the center of the Persian as well as the Assyrian territory of\nthe Assassins, that is to say, both at Alamut and Massiat, were\nsituated, in a space surrounded by walls, splendid gardens--true\nEastern paradises.  There were flower-beds and thickets of\nfruit-trees, intersected by canals, shady walks, and verdant\nglades, where the sparkling stream bubbled at every step; bowers\nof roses and vineyards; luxurious halls and porcelain kiosks,\nadorned with Persian carpets and Grecian stuffs, where\ndrinking-vessels of gold, silver, and crystal glittered on trays\nof the same costly materials; charming maidens and handsome boys\nof Muhammed's Paradise, soft as the cushions on which they\nreposed, and intoxicating as the wine which they presented.  The\nmusic of the harp was mingled with the songs of birds, and the\nmelodious tones of the songstress harmonized with the murmur of\nthe brooks.  Everything breathed pleasure, rapture, and\nsensuality.  A youth, who was deemed worthy by his strength and\nresolution to be initiated into the Assassin service, was invited\nto the table and conversation of the grand master, or grand\nprior, he was then intoxicated with hashish and carried into the\ngarden, which on awaking he believed to be Paradise; everything\naround him, the houris in particular, contributing to confirm the\ndelusion.  After he had experienced as much of the pleasures of\nParadise, which the Prophet has promised to the faithful, as his\nstrength would admit; after quaffing enervating delight from the\neyes of the houris and intoxicating wine from the glittering\ngoblets; he sank into the lethargy produced by debility and the\nopiate, on awakening from which, after a few hours, he again\nfound himself by the side of his superior.  The latter endeavoured\nto convince him that corporeally he had not left his side, but\nthat spiritually he had been wrapped into Paradise and had there\nenjoyed a foretaste of the bliss which awaits the faithful who\ndevote their lives to the service of the faith and the obedience\nof their chiefs.\n\n\n\n\n THE TEN WAZIRS; OR, THE HISTORY OF KING \ufffdZ\ufffdDBAKHT AND HIS SON\n                        Vol. XI. p. 55.\n\n\n\nThe precise date of the Persian original of this romance\n(\"Bakhty\ufffdr N\ufffdma\") has not been ascertained, but it was probably\ncomposed before the beginning of the fifteenth century, since\nthere exists in the Bodleian Library a unique Turk\ufffd version, in\nthe Uygur language and characters, which was written in 1434.\nOnly three of the tales have hitherto been found in other Asiatic\nstorybooks.  The Turk\ufffd version, according to M. Jaubert, who\ngives an account of the MS. and a translation of one of the tales\nin the Journal Asiatique, tome x. 1827, is characterised by\n\"great sobriety of ornament and extreme simplicity of style, and\nthe evident intention on the part of the translator to suppress\nall that may not have appeared to him sufficiently probable, and\nall that might justly be taxed with exaggeration;\" and he adds\nthat \"apart from the interest which the writing and phraseology\nof the work may possess for those who study the history of\nlanguages, it is rather curious to see how a T\ufffdt\ufffdr translator\nsets to work to bring within the range of his readers stories\nembellished in the original with descriptions and images\nfamiliar, doubtless, to a learned and refined nation like the\nPersians, but foreign to shepherds.\"\n\nAt least three different versions are known to the Malays-\n-different in the frame, or leading story, if not in the\nsubordinate tales.  One of those is described in the second\nvolume of Newbold's work on Malacca, the frame of which is\nsimilar to the Persian original and its Arabian derivative,\nexcepting that the name of the king is Z\ufffddbokhtin and that of the\nminister's daughter (who is nameless in the Persian) is Mahrwat.\nTwo others are described in Van den Berg's account of Malay,\nArabic, Javanese and other MSS. published at Batavia, 1877: p.\n21, No. 132 is entitled \"The History of Ghul\ufffdm, son of\nZ\ufffddbukht\ufffdn, King of Ad\ufffdn, in Persia,\" and the frame also\ncorresponds with our version, with the important difference that\nthe robber-chief who had brought up Ghul\ufffdm, \"learning that he had\nbecome a person of consequence, came to his residence to visit\nhim, but finding him imprisoned, he was much concerned, and asked\nthe king's pardon on his behalf, telling him at the same time how\nhe had formerly found Ghul\ufffdm in the jungle; from which the king\nknew that Ghul\ufffdm was his son.\"  The second version noticed by Van\nden Berg (p. 32, No. 179), though similar in title to the Persian\noriginal, \"History of Prince Bakhty\ufffdr,\" differs very materially\nin the leading story, the outline of which is as follows: This\nprince, when his father was put to flight by a younger brother,\nwho wished to dethrone him, was born in a jungle, and abandoned\nby his parents. A merchant named Idr\ufffds took charge of him and\nbrought him up. Later on he became one of the officers of state\nwith his own father, who had in the meanwhile found another\nkingdom, and decided with fairness, the cases brought before him.\nHe was, however, put in prison on account of a supposed attempt\non the king's life, and would have been put to death had he not\nstayed the execution by telling various beautiful stories.  Even\nthe king came repeatedly to listen to him.  At one of these\nvisits Bakhty\ufffdr's foster-father Idr\ufffds was present, and related to\nhis adopted son how he had found him in the jungle.  The king, on\nhearing this, perceived that it was his son who had been brought\nup by Idr\ufffds, recognised Bakhty\ufffdr as such, and made over to him the\nkingdom.\"--I have little doubt that this romance is of Indian\nextraction.\n\n\n\n\n     STORY OF KING DADBIN AND HIS WAZIRS.--Vol. XI. p. 94.\n\n\n\nThis agrees pretty closely with the Turk\ufffd version of the same\nstory (rendered into French by M. Jaubert), though in the latter\nthe names of the characters are the same as in the Persian, King\nD\ufffdd\ufffdn and the Waz\ufffdrs K\ufffdmg\ufffdr and K\ufffdrd\ufffdr.  In the Persian story,\nthe damsel is tied hands and feet and placed upon a camel, which\nis then turned into a dreary wilderness.  \"Here she suffered from\nthe intense heat and from thirst; but she resigned herself to the\nwill of Providence, conscious of her own innocence.  Just then\nthe camel lay down, and on the spot a fountain of delicious water\nsuddenly sprang forth; the cords which bound her hands and feet\ndropped off; she refreshed herself by a draught of the water, and\nfervently returned thanks to Heaven for this blessing and her\nwonderful preservation.\"  This two-fold miracle does not appear\nin the Turk\ufffd and Arabian versions.  It is not the cameleer of the\nKing of Persia, but of King D\ufffdd\ufffdn, who meets with the pious\ndamsel in the wilderness.  He takes her to his own house and one\nday relates his adventure to King D\ufffdd\ufffdn, who expresses a wish to\nsee such a prodigy of sanctity.  The conclusion of the Persian\nstory is quite dramatic: The cameleer, having consented, returned\nat once to his house, accompanied by the king, who waited at the\ndoor of the apartment where the daughter of K\ufffdmg\ufffdr was engaged in\nprayer.  When she had concluded he approached, and with\nastonishment recognised her.  Having tenderly embraced her, he\nwept, and entreated her forgiveness.  This she readily granted,\nbut begged that he would conceal himself in the apartment while\nshe should converse with K\ufffdrd\ufffdr, whom she sent for.  When he\narrived, and beheld her with a thousand expressions of fondness,\nhe inquired how she had escaped, and told her that on the day the\nking had banished her into the wilderness, he had sent people to\nseek her and bring her to him.  \"How much better would it have\nbeen,\" he added, \"had you followed my advice, and agreed to my\nproposal of poisoning the king, who, I said, would one day\ndestroy you as he had done your father!  But you rejected my\nadvice, and declared yourself ready to submit to whatever\nProvidence should decree.  Hereafter you will pay more attention\nto my words.  But now let us not think of what is past.  I am\nyour slave, and you are dearer to me than my own eyes.\"  So\nsaying, he attempted to clasp the daughter of K\ufffdmg\ufffdr in his arms,\nwhen the king, who was concealed behind the hangings, rushed\nfuriously on him and put him to death.  After this he conducted\nthe damsel to his palace, and constantly lamented his\nprecipitancy in having killed her father.--This tale seems to\nhave been taken from the Persian \"T\ufffdt\ufffd N\ufffdma,\" or Parrot-book,\ncomposed by Nahkshab\ufffd about the year 1306;[FN#486] it occurs in\nthe 51st Night of the India Office MS. 2573, under the title of\n\"Story of the Daughter of the Vaz\ufffdr Kh\ufffdssa, and how she found\nsafety through the blessing of her piety:\"  the name of the king\nis Bahram, and the Waz\ufffdrs are called Kh\ufffdssa and Khal\ufffdssa.\n\n\n\n\n       STORY OF AYLAN SHAH AND AB\ufffd TAMM\ufffdM--Vol. XI p. 112.\n\n\n\nThe catastrophe of this story forms the subject of the Lady's\n37th tale in the text of the Turkish \"Forty Vez\ufffdrs,\" translated\nby Mr. E. J. W. Gibb.  This is how it goes:\n\nIn the palace of the world there was a king, and that king had\nthree vez\ufffdrs, but there was rivalry between them.  Two of them\nday and night incited the king against the third, saying, \"He is\na traitor.\"  But the king believed them not.  At length they\npromised two pages much gold, and instructed them thus: \"When the\nking has lain down, ere he yet fall asleep, do ye feign to think\nhim asleep, and while talking with each other, say at a fitting\ntime, 'I have heard from such a one that yon vez\ufffdr says this and\nthat concerning the king, and that he hates him; many people say\nthat vez\ufffdr is an enemy to our king.'\"  So they did this, and when\nthe king heard this, he said in his heart, \"What those vez\ufffdrs\nsaid is then true; when the very pages have heard somewhat it\nmust indeed have some foundation.  Till now, I believed not those\nvez\ufffdrs, but it is then true.\"  And the king executed that vez\ufffdr.\nThe other vez\ufffdrs were glad and gave the pages the gold they had\npromised.  So they took it and went to a private place, and while\nthey were dividing it one of them said, \"I spake first; I want\nmore.\"  The other said, \"If I had not said he was an enemy to our\nking, the king would not have killed him; I shall take more.\"\nAnd while they were quarrelling with one another the king passed\nby there, and he listened attentively to their words, and when he\nlearned of the matter, he said, \"Dost thou see, they have by a\ntrick made us kill that hapless vez\ufffdr.\"  And he was repentant.\n\n\n\n\n  STORY OF KING SULAYMAN SHAH AND HIS NIECE.--Vol. XI. p. 131.\n\n\n\nThe Persian original has been very considerably amplified by the\nArabian translator.  In the \"Bakhty\ufffdr N\ufffdma\" there is not a word\nabout the two brothers and their fair cousin, the attempted\nmurder of the infant, and the adventures of the fugitive young\nprince.  This story has also been taken from the \"T\ufffdt\ufffd N\ufffdma\" of\nNakhshab\ufffd, Night the 50th of the India Office MS. 2573, where,\nunder the title of \"Story of the Daughter of the Kaysar of Roum,\nand her trouble by reason of her son,\" it is told somewhat as\nfollows:\n\nIn former times there was a great king, whose army was numerous\nand whose treasury was full to overflowing; but, having no enemy\nto contend with, he neglected to pay his soldiers, in consequence\nof which they were in a state of destitution and discontent.  At\nlength one day the soldiers went to the prime minister and made\ntheir condition known to him.  The vaz\ufffdr promised that he would\nspeedily devise a plan by which they should have employment and\nmoney.  Next morning he presented himself before the king, and\nsaid that it was widely reported the Kaysar of Roum had a\ndaughter unsurpassed for beauty--one who was fit only for such a\ngreat monarch as his Majesty; and suggested that it would be\nadvantageous if an alliance were formed between two such great\npotentates.  The notion pleased the king well, and he forthwith\ndespatched to Roum an ambassador with rich gifts, and requested\nthe Kaysar to grant him his daughter in marriage.  But the Kaysar\nwaxed wroth at this, and refused to give his daughter to the\nking.  When the ambassador returned thus unsuccessful, the king,\nenraged at being made of no account, resolved to make war upon\nthe Kaysar; so, opening the doors of his treasury, he distributed\nmuch money among his troops, and then, \"with a woe-bringing host,\nand a blood-drinking army, he trampled Roum and the folk of Roum\nin the dust.\"  And when the Kaysar was become powerless, he sent\nhis daughter to the king, who married her according to the law of\nIslam.\n\nNow that princess had a son by a former husband, and the Kaysar\nhad said to her before she departed, \"Beware that thou mention\nnot thy son, for my love for his society is great, and I cannot\npart with him.\"[FN#487]  But the princess was sick at heart for\nthe absence of her son, and she was ever pondering how she should\nspeak to the king about him, and in what manner she might\ncontrive to bring him to her.  It happened one day the king gave\nher a string of pearls and a casket of jewels.  She said, \"With\nmy father is a slave who is well skilled in the science of\njewels.\"  The king replied, \"If I should ask that slave of thy\nfather, would he give him to me?\"  \"Nay,\" said she, \"for he holds\nhim in the place of a son.  But if the king desire him, I will\nsend a merchant to Roum, and I myself will give him a token, and\nwith pleasant wiles and fair speeches will bring him hither.\"\nThen the king sent for a clever merchant who knew Arabic\neloquently and the language of Roum, and gave him goods for\ntrading and sent him to Roum with the object of procuring the\nslave.  But the daughter of the Kaysar said privily to the\nmerchant, \"That slave is my son; I have, for a good reason, said\nto the king that he is a slave; so thou must bring him as a\nslave, and let it be thy duty to take care of him.\"  In due\ncourse the merchant brought the youth to the king's service; and\nwhen the king saw his fair face, and discovered in him many\npleasing and varied accomplishments, he treated him with\ndistinction and favour, and conferred on the merchant a robe of\nhonour and gifts.  His mother saw him from afar, and was pleased\nwith receiving a secret salutation from him.\n\nOne day the king had gone to the chase, and the palace remained\nvoid of rivals; so the mother called in her son, kissed his fair\nface, and told him the tale of her great sorrow.  A chamberlain\nbecame aware of the secret, and another suspicion fell upon him,\nand he said to himself, \"The harem of the king is the sanctuary\nof security and the palace of protection.  If I speak not of\nthis, I shall be guilty of treachery and shall have wrought\nunfaithfulness.\"  When the king returned from the chase, the\nchamberlain related to him what he had seen, and the eking was\nangry and said, \"This woman hath deceived me with words and\ndeeds, and has brought hither her desire by craft and cunning.\nThis conjecture must be true, else why did she play such a trick?\nAnd why did she hatch such a plot?  And why did she send the\nmerchant?\"  Then the king, enraged, went into the harem, and the\nqueen saw from his countenance that the occurrence of the night\nbefore had become known to him, and she said, \"Be it not that I\nsee the king angry?\"  He said, \"How should I not be angry?  Thou,\nby craft and trickery, and intrigue, and plotting, hast brought\nthy desire from Roum--what wantonness is this that thou hast\ndone?\"  And then he thought to slay her, but he forbore, because\nof his great love for her.  But he ordered the chamberlain to\ncarry the youth to some obscure place, and straightway sever his\nhead from his body.  When the poor mother saw this, she well-nigh\nfell on her face, and her soul was near leaving her body.  But\nshe knew that sorrow would not avail, and so she restrained\nherself.\n\nAnd when the chamberlain took the youth into his own house, he\nsaid to him, \"O youth, knowest thou not that the harem of the\nking is the sanctuary of security?  What great treachery is this\nthat thou hast perpetrated?\"  The youth replied, \"That queen is\nmy mother, and I am her true son.  Because of her natural\ndelicacy, she said not to the king that she had a son by another\nhusband.  And when yearning came over her, she contrived to bring\nme here from Roum; and while the king was engaged in the chase,\nmaternal love stirred in her, and she called me to her and\nembraced me.\"  On hearing this, the chamberlain said to himself,\n\"What is passing in his mother's breast?  What I have not done I\ncan yet do, and it were better that I preserve this youth some\ndays, for such a rose may not be wounded through idle words, and\nsuch a bough may not be broken by a breath.  For some day the\ntruth of this matter will be disclosed, and it will become known\nto the king when repentance may be of no avail.\"  So he went\nbefore the king and said, \"That which was commanded have I\nfulfilled.\"  On hearing this the king's wrath was to some extent\nremoved, but his trust in the Kaysar's daughter was departed;\nwhile she, poor creature, was grieved and dazed at the loss of\nher son.\n\nNow in the palace-harem there was an old woman, who said to the\nqueen, \"How is it that I find thee sorrowful?\"  And the queen\ntold the whole story, concealing nothing.  This old woman was a\nheroine in the field of craft, and she answered, \"Keep thy mind\nat ease; I will devise a stratagem by which the heart of the king\nwill be pleased with thee, and every grief he has will vanish\nfrom his heart.\"  The queen said that, if she did so, she should\nbe amply rewarded.  One day the old woman, seeing the king alone,\nsaid to him, \"Why is thy former aspect altered?  And why are\nthere traces of care and anxiety visible on thy countenance?\"\nThe king then told her all.  Then said the old woman, \"I have an\namulet of the charms of Sulayman, in the Syriac language, and in\nthe writing of the jinn (genii).  When the queen is asleep, do\nthou place it on her breast, and whatever it may be, she will\ntell the truth of it.  But take care, fall not asleep, but listen\nwell to what she says.\"  The king wondered at this and said,\n\"Give me that amulet, that the truth of this matter may be\nlearned.\"  So the old woman gave him the amulet, and then went to\nthe queen and explained what she had done, and said, \"Do thou\nfeign to be asleep, and relate the whole of thy story\nfaithfully.\"\n\nWhen a watch of the night was past, the king laid the amulet upon\nhis wife's breast, and she thus began: \"By a former husband I had\na son, and when my father gave me to this king, I was ashamed to\nsay I had a tall son.  When my yearning passed all bounds, I\nbrought him here by an artifice.  One day that the king was gone\nto the chase I called him into the house, when, after the way of\nmothers, I took him in my arms and kissed him.  This reached the\nking's ears; he unwittingly gave it another construction, and cut\noff the head of that innocent boy, and withdrew from me his own\nheart.  Alike is my son lost to me and the king angry.\"  When the\nking heard these words he kissed her and exclaimed, \"O my life,\nwhat an error is this thou hast committed!  Thou hast brought\ncalumny upon thyself, and hast given such a son to the winds, and\nhast made me ashamed!\"  Straightway he called the chamberlain,\nand said, \"That boy whom thou hast killed is the son of my\nbeloved and the darling of my beauty! Where is his grave, that we\nmay make there a guest-house?\"  The chamberlain said, \"That youth\nis yet alive.  When the king commanded his death, I was about to\nkill him, but he said, 'That queen is my mother.  Through modesty\nbefore the king, she revealed not the secret that she has a tall\nson.  Kill me not; it may be that some day the truth will become\nknown, and repentance profiteth not, and regret is useless.\"  The\nking commanded them to bring the youth; so they brought him\nforthwith.  And when the mother saw the face of her son, she\nthanked God and praised the Most High, and became one of the\nMuslims, and from the sect of unbelievers came into the faith of\nIslam.  And the king favoured the chamberlain in the highest\ndegree, and they passed the rest of their lives in comfort and\nease.\n\n\n\n\n             FIRUZ AND HIS WIFE.--Vol. XI. p. 185.\n\n\n\nThis tale, as Sir R. F. Burton remarks, is a rechauff\ufffd of that of\nthe King and the Wazir's Wife in the \"Malice of Women,\" or the\nSeven Waz\ufffdrs (vol. vi. 129); and at p. 308 we have yet another\nvariant.[FN#488]  It occurs in all the Eastern texts of the Book\nof Sindib\ufffdd, and it is commonly termed by students of that cycle\nof stories \"The Lion's Track,\" from the parabolical manner in\nwhich the husband justifies his conduct before the king.  I have\ncited some versions in the Appendix to my edition of the Book of\nSindib\ufffdd (p. 256 ff.), and to these may be added the following\nVenetian variant, from Crane's \"Italian Popular Tales,\" as an\nexample of how a story becomes garbled in passing orally from one\ngeneration unto another generation:\n\nA king, averse from marriage, commanded his steward to remain\nsingle.  The latter, however, one day saw a beautiful girl named\nVigna and married her secretly.  Although he kept her closely\nconfined in her chamber, the king became suspicious, and sent the\nsteward on an embassy.  After his departure the king entered the\napartment occupied by him, and saw his wife asleep.  He did not\ndisturb her, but in leaving the room accidentally dropped one of\nhis gloves on the bed.  When the husband returned he found the\nglove, but kept a discreet silence, ceasing, however, all\ndemonstration of affection, believing his wife had been\nunfaithful.  The king, desirous to see again the beautiful woman,\nmade a feast and ordered the steward to bring his wife.  He\ndenied that he had one, but brought her at last, and while every\none else was talking gaily at the feast she was silent.  The king\nobserved it and asked the cause of her silence, and she answered\nwith a pun on her own name, \"Vineyard I was, and Vineyard I am.\nI was loved and no longer am. I know not for what reason the\nVineyard has lost its season.\" Her husband, who heard this,\nreplied, \"Vineyard thou wast, and Vineyard thou art: the Vineyard\nlost its season, for the lion's claw.\"  The king, who understood\nwhat he meant, answered, \"I entered the Vineyard; I touched the\nleaves; but I swear by my crown that I have not tasted the\nfruit.\"  Then the steward understood that his wife was innocent,\nand the two made peace, and always after lived happy and\ncontented.\n\nSo far as I am aware, this tale of \"The Lion's Track\" is not\npopularly known in any European country besides Italy; and it is\nnot found in any of the Western versions of the Book of Sindib\ufffdd,\ngenerally known under the title of the \"History of the Seven Wise\nMasters,\" how, then, did it reach Venice, and become among the\npeople \"familiar in their mouths as household words?\"  I answer,\nthat the intimate commercial relations which long existed between\nthe Venetian Republic and Egypt and Syria are amply sufficient to\naccount for the currency of this and scores of other Eastern\ntales in Italy.  This is not one of those fictions introduced\ninto the south of Europe through the Ottomans, since Boccaccio\nhas made use of the first part of it in his \"Decameron,\" Day I.\nnov. 5; and it is curious to observe that the garbled Venetian\npopular version has preserved the chief characteristic of the\nEastern story--the allegorical reference to the king as a lion\nand his assuring the husband that the lion had done no injury to\nhis \"Vineyard.\"\n\n\n\n\n   KING SHAH BAKHT AND HIS WAZIR AL-RAHWAN.--Vol. XI. p. 127.\n\n\n\nWhile the frame-story of this interesting group is similar to\nthat of the Ten Waz\ufffdrs (vol. i. p. 55), insomuch as in both a\nking's favourite is sentenced to death in consequence of the\nfalse accusations of his enemies, and obtains a respite from day\nto day by relating stories to the king, there is yet a very\nimportant difference: Like those of the renowned Shahrazad, the\nstories which Al-Rahwan tells have no particular, at least no\nuniform, \"purpose,\" his sole object being to prolong his life by\ntelling the king an entertaining story, promising, when he has\nended his recital, to relate one still \"stranger\" the next night,\nif the king will spare his life another day.  On the other hand,\nBakhty\ufffdr, while actuated by the same motive, appeals to the\nking's reason, by relating stories distinctly designed to exhibit\nthe evils of hasty judgements and precipitate conduct--in fact,\nto illustrate the maxim,\n\n     Each order given by a reigning king,\n          Should after long reflection be expressed;\n     For it may be that endless woe will spring\n          From a command he paused not to digest.\n\nAnd in this respect they are consistent with the circumstances of\nthe case, like the tales of the Book of Sindib\ufffdd, from which the\nframe of the Ten Waz\ufffdrs was imitated, and in which the Waz\ufffdrs\nrelate stories showing the depravity and profligacy of women and\nthat no reliance should be placed on their unsupported\nassertions, and to these the lady opposes equally cogent stories\nsetting forth the wickedness and perfidy of men.  Closely\nresembling the frame-story of the Ten Waz\ufffdrs, however, is that of\na Tamil romance entitled, \"Alakeswara Kath\ufffd,\" a copy of which,\nwritten on palm leaves, was in the celebrated Mackenzie\ncollection, of which Dr. H. H. Wilson published a descriptive\ncatalogue; it is \"a story of the R\ufffdj\ufffd of Alakepura and his four\nministers, who, being falsely accused of violating the sanctity\nof the inner apartments, vindicate their innocence and disarm the\nking's wrath by relating a number of stories.\"  Judging by the\nspecimen given by Wilson, the well-known tale of the Lost Camel,\nit seems probable that the ministers' stories, like those of\nBakhty\ufffdr, are suited to their own case and illustrate the truth\nof the adage that \"appearances are often deceptive.\"  Whether in\nthe Siamese collection \"Nonthuk Pakkaranam\" (referred to in vol.\ni. p. 191) the stories related by the Princess Kankras to the\nKing of Pataliput (Palibothra), to save her father's life, are\nsimilarly designed, does not appear from Benfey's notice of the\nwork in his paper in \"Orient and Occident,\" iii. 171 ff.  He says\nthat the title of the book, \"Nonthuk Pakkaranam,\" is taken from\nthe name of a wise ox, Nonthuk, that plays the principal part in\nthe longest of the tales, which are all apparently translated\nfrom the Sanskrit, in which language the title would be Nandaka\nPrakaranam, the History of Nandaka.\n\nMost of the tales related by the wazir Al-Rahwan are not only in\nthemselves entertaining, but are of very considerable importance\nfrom the story-comparer's point of view, since in this group\noccur Eastern forms of tales which were known in Italy in the\n14th century, and some had spread over Europe even earlier.  The\nreader will have seen from Sir R. F. Burton's notes that not a\nfew of the stories have their parallels or analogues in countries\nfar apart, and it is interesting to find four of them which\nproperly belong to the Eastern texts of the Book of Sindibad,\nwith the frame-story of which that of this group has so close an\naffinity.\n\n\n\n\n         THE ART OF ENLARGING PEARLS.--Vol. XI. p.197.\n\n\n\n\"Quoth she, I have a bangle; sell it and buy seed pearls with the\n                     price; then round them\n              and fashion them into great pearls.\"\n\nFor want of a more suitable place, I shall here reproduce an\naccount of the \"Method of making false pearls\" (nothing else\nbeing meant in the above passage), cited, from Postl. Com. Dict.,\nin vol. xxvi. of Rees' Cyclop\ufffddia,\" London, 1819:\n\n\"Take of thrice distilled vinegar two pounds, Venice turpentine\none pound, mix them together into a mass and put them into a\ncucurbit, fit a head and receiver to it, and after you have luted\nthe joints set it when dry on a sand furnace, to distil the\nvinegar from it; do not give it too much heat, lest the stuff\nswell up.  After this put the vinegar into another glass cucurbit\nin which there is a quantity of seed pearls wrapped in a piece of\nthin silk, but so as not to touch the vinegar; put a cover or\nhead upon the cucurbit, lute it well and put it in bal. Mari\ufffd,\nwhere you may let it remain a fortnight.  The heat of the balneum\nwill raise the fumes of the vinegar, and they will soften the\npearls in the silk and bring them to the consistence of a paste,\nwhich being done, take them out and mould them to what bigness,\nform, and shape you please.  Your mould must be of fine silver,\nthe inside gilt; you must also refrain from touching the paste\nwith your fingers, but use silver-gilt utensils, with which fill\nyour moulds.  When they are moulded, bore them through with a\nhog's bristle or gold wire, and then tread them again on gold\nwire, and put them into a glass, close it up, and set them in the\nsun to dry.  After they are thoroughly dry, put them in a glass\nmatrass into a stream of running water and leave them there\ntwenty days; by that time they will contract the natural hardness\nand solidity of pearls.  Then take them out of the matrass and\nhang them in mercurial water, where they will moisten, swell, and\nassume their Oriental beauty; after which shift them into a\nmatrass hermitically closed to prevent any water coming to them,\nand let it down into a well, to continue there about eight days.\nThen draw the matrass up, and in opening it you will find pearls\nexactly resembling Oriental ones.\"  (Here follows a recipe for\nmaking the mercurial water used in the process, with which I need\nnot occupy more space.)\n\nA similar formula, \"To make of small pearls a necklace of large\nones,\" is given in the \"Lady's Magazine\" for 1831, vol. iv., p.\n119, which is said to be extracted from a scarce old book.  Thus,\nwhatever mystery may surround the art is Asiatic countries there\nis evidently none about it in Europe.  The process appears to be\nsomewhat tedious and complicated, but is doubtless profitable.\n\nIn Philostratus' Life of Appolonius there is a curious passage\nabout pearl-making which has been generally considered as a mere\n\"traveller's tale\":  Apollonious relates that the inhabitants of\nthe shores of the Red Sea, after having calmed the water by means\nof oil, dived after the shell-fish, enticed them with some bait\nto open their shells, and having pricked the animals with a\nsharp-pointed instrument, received the liquor that flowed from\nthem in small holes made in an iron vessel, in which it hardened\ninto real pearls.--It is stated by several reputable writers that\nthe Chinese do likewise at the present day.  And Sir R. F. Burton\ninforms me that when he was on the coast of Midian he found the\nArabs were in the habit of \"growing\" pearls by inserting a grain\nof sand into the shells.\n\n\n\n\n         THE SINGER AND THE DRUGGIST.--Vol. XI. p. 203.\n\n\n\nThe diverting adventures related in the first part of this tale\nshould be of peculiar interest to the student of Shakspeare as\nwell as to those engaged in tracing the genealogy of popular\nfiction.  Jonathan Scott has given--for reasons of his own--a\nmeagre abstract of a similar tale which occurs in the \"Bah\ufffdr-i-\nD\ufffdnish\" (vol. iii. App., p. 291), as follows:\n\n\n                        PERSIAN VERSION\n\nA young man, being upon business in a certain city, goes on a\nhunting excursion, and, fatigued with the chase, stops at a\ncountry house to ask refreshment.  The lady of the mansion\nreceives him kindly, and admits him as her lover.  In the midst\nof their dalliance the husband comes home, and the young man had\nno recourse to escape discovery but to jump into a basin which\nwas in the court of the house, and stand with head in a hollow\ngourd that happened to be in the water.  The husband, surprised\nto see the gourd stationary in the water, which was itself\nagitated by the wind, throws a stone at it, when the lover slips\nfrom beneath it and holds his breath till almost suffocated.\nFortunately, the husband presently retires with his wife into an\ninner room of the house, and thus the young man was enabled to\nmake good his escape.\n\nThe next day he relates his adventure before a large company at a\ncoffee-house.  The husband happens to be one of the audience,\nand, meditating revenge, pretends to admire the gallantry of the\nyoung man and invites him to his house.  The lover accompanies\nhim, and on seeing his residence is overwhelmed with confusion;\nbut, recovering himself, resolves to abide all hazards, in hopes\nof escaping by some lucky stratagem.  His host introduces him to\nhis wife, and begs him to relate his merry adventure before her,\nhaving resolved, when he should finish, to put them both to\ndeath.  The young man complies, but with an artful presence of\nmind exclaims at the conclusion, \"Glad was I when I awoke from so\nalarming a dream.\"  The husband upon this, after some questions,\nis satisfied that he had only told his dream, and, having\nentertained him nobly, dismisses him kindly.\n\nThe story is told in an elaborate form by Ser Giovanni\nFiorentino, in \"Il Pecorone\" (The Big Sheep, or, as Dunlop has\nit, The Dunce), which was begun in 1378 but not published till\n1554 (at Milan).  It is the second novel of the First Day and has\nbeen thus translated by Roscoe:\n\n\n                     SER GIOVANNI'S VERSION\n\nThere were once two very intimate friends, both of the family of\nSaveli, in Rome; the name of one of whom was Bucciolo; that of\nthe other Pietro Paolo, both of good birth and easy\ncircumstances.  Expressing a mutual wish to study for a while\ntogether at Bologna they took leave of their relatives and set\nout.  One of them attached himself to the study of the civil law,\nthe other to that of the canon law, and thus they continued to\napply themselves for some length of time.  But the subject of\nDecretals takes a much narrower range than is embraced by the\ncommon law, so Bucciolo, who pursued the former, made greater\nprogress than did Pietro Paolo, and, having taken a licentiate's\ndegree, he began to think of returning to Rome.  \"You see, my\ndear fellow student,\" he observed to his friend Paolo, \"I am now\na licentiate, and it is time for me to think of moving\nhomewards.\"  \"Nay, not so,\" replied his companion; \"I have to\nentreat you will not think of leaving me here this winter.  Stay\nfor me till spring, and we can return together.  In the meantime\nyou may pursue some other study, so that you need not lose any\ntime;\" and to this Bucciolo at length consented, promising to\nawait his relative's own good time.\n\nHaving thus resolved, he had immediate recourse to his former\ntutor, informing him of his determination to bear his friend\ncompany a little longer, and entreating to be employed in some\npleasant study to beguile the period during which he had to\nremain.  The professor begged him to suggest something he should\nlike, as he should be very happy to assist him in its attainment.\n\"My worthy tutor,\" replied Bucciolo, \"I think I should like to\nlearn the way in which one falls in love, and the best manner to\nbegin.\"  \"O very good!\" cried the tutor, laughing.  \"You could\nnot have hit upon anything better, for you must know that, if\nsuch be your object I am a complete adept in the art.  To lose\nno time, in the first place go next Sunday to the church of the\nFrati Minori (Friars Minor of St. Francis), where all the ladies\nwill be clustered together, and pay proper attention during\nservice in order to discover if any one of them in particular\nhappens to please you.  When you have done this, keep your eye\nupon her after service, to see the way she takes to her\nresidence, and then come back to me.  And let this be the first\nlesson--the first part--of that in which it is my intention to\ninstruct you.\"  Bucciolo went accordingly, and taking his station\nthe next Sunday in the church, as he had been directed, his eyes,\nwandering in every direction, were fixed upon all the pretty\nwomen in the place, and upon one in particular, who pleased him\nabove all the rest.  She was by far the most beautiful and\nattractive lady he could discover, and on leaving church he took\ncare to obey his master and follow her until he had made himself\nacquainted with her residence.  Nor was it long before the young\nlady began to perceive that the student was smitten with her;\nupon which Bucciolo returned to his master and informed him of\nwhat he had done.  \"I have,\" said he, \"learned as much as you\nordered me, and have found somebody I like very well.\"  \"So far,\ngood,\" cried the professor, not a little amused at the sort of\nscience to which his pupil had thus seriously devoted himself--\n\"so far, good!  And now observe what I have next to say to you:\nTake care to walk two or three times a day very respectfully\nbefore her house, casting your eyes about you in such a way that\nno one may catch you staring in her face; look in a modest and\nbecoming manner, so that she cannot fail to notice and be struck\nwith it.  And then return to me; and this, sir, will be the\nsecond lesson in this gay science.\"\n\nSo the scholar went and promenaded with great discretion before\nthe lady's door, who observed that he appeared to be passing to\nand fro out of respect to one of the inhabitants.  This attracted\nher attention, for which Bucciolo very discreetly expressed his\ngratitude by looks and bows, which being as often returned, the\nscholar began to be aware that the lady liked him.  He\nimmediately went and told the professor all that had passed, who\nreplied, \"Come, you have done very well.  I am hitherto quite\nsatisfied.  It is now time for you to find some way of speaking\nto her, which you may easily do by means of those gipsies who\nhaunt the streets of Bologna, crying ladies' veils, purses and\nother articles for sale.  Send word by her that you are the\nlady's most faithful, devoted servant, and that there is no one\nin the world you so much wish to please.  In short, let her urge\nyour suit, and take care to bring the answer to me as soon as you\nhave received it.  I will then tell you how you are to proceed.\"\n\nDeparting in all haste, he soon found a little old pedlar woman,\nquite perfect in the trade, to whom he said he should take it as\na particular favour if she would do one thing, for which he would\nreward her handsomely.  Upon this she declared her readiness to\nserve him in anything he pleased.  \"For you know,\" she added, \"it\nis my business to get money in every way I can.\"  Bucciolo gave\nher two florins, saying, \"I wish you to go for me to-day as far\nas the Via Maccarella, where resides a young lady of the name of\nGiovanna, for whom I have the very highest regard.  Pray tell her\nso, and recommend me to her most affectionately, so as to obtain\nfor me her good graces by every means in your power.  I entreat\nyou to have my interest at heart, and to say such pretty things\nas she cannot refuse to hear.\"  \"O leave that to me, sir,\" said\nthe little old woman, \"I will not fail to say a good word for you\nat the proper time.\"  \"Delay not,\" said Bucciolo, \"but go now,\nand I will wait for you here;\" and she set off at once, taking\nher basket of trinkets under her arm.  On approaching the place,\nshe saw the lady before the door, enjoying the air, and curtseying\nto her very low, \"Do I happen to have anything here you would\nfancy?\" she said, displaying her wares.  \"Pray, take something,\nmadam--whatever pleases you best.\"  Veils, stays, purses, and\nmirrors were now spread in the most tempting way before the\nlady's eyes.  Out of all these things her attention seemed to be\nmost attracted by a beautiful purse, which, she observed, if she\ncould afford, she should like to purchase. \"Nay, madam,\"\nexclaimed the crone, \"do not think anything about the price--take\nanything yo please, since they are all paid for already, I assure\nyou.\"  Surprised at hearing this, and perceiving the very\nrespectful manner of the speaker, the lady rejoined, \"Do you know\nwhat you are saying?  What do you mean by that?\"  The old woman,\npretending now to be much affected, said, \"Well, madam, if it\nmust be so, I shall tell you.  It is very true that a young\ngentleman of the name of Bucciolo sent me hither; one who loves\nyou better than all the world besides.  There is nothing he would\nnot do to please you, and indeed he appears to very wretched\nbecause he cannot speak to you, and he is so very good, that it\nis quite a pity.  I think it will be the death of him, and then\nhe is such a fine--such an elegant--young man, the more is the\npity!\"  on hearing this, the lady, blushing deeply, turned\nsharply round upon the little old woman, exclaiming, \"O you\nwicked creature! were it not for the sake of my own reputation, I\nwould give you such a lesson that you should remember it to the\nlatest day of your life!  A pretty story to come before decent\npeople with! Are you not ashamed of yourself to let such words\ncome out of your mouth?\"  Then seizing an iron bar that lay\nacross the doorway, \"Ill betide you, little wretch!\" she cried,\nas she brandished it.  \"If you ever come this way again, depend\non it, you will never go back alive!\"  The trembling old trot,\nquickly bundling up her wares, scampered off, in dread of feeling\nthat cruel weapon on her shoulders, nor did she think of stopping\ntill she had reached the place where Bucciolo stood waiting her\nreturn.  Eagerly inquiring the news and how she succeeded, \"O\nvery badly--very badly,\" answered the crone.  \"I was never in\nsuch a fright in all my life.  Why, she will neither see nor\nlisten to you, and if I had not run away, I should have felt the\nweight of a great iron bar upon my shoulders.  For my own part, I\nshall go there no more; and I advise you, signor, to look to\nyourself how you proceed in such affairs in future.\"\n\nPoor Bucciolo became quite disconsolate, and returned in all\nhaste to acquaint the professor with this unlucky result.  But\nthe professor, not a whit cast down, consoled him, saying, \"Do\nnot despair; a tree is not levelled at a single stroke, you know.\nI think you must have a repetition of your lesson to-night.  So\ngo and walk before her door as usual; notice how she eyes you,\nand whether she appears angry or not, and then come back again to\nme.\"  Bucciolo accordingly proceeded without delay to the lady's\nhouse.  The moment she perceived him she called her maid and said\nto her, \"Quick, quick--hasten after the young man--that is he,\nand tell him from me that he must come and speak with me this\nevening without fail--without fail.\"  The girl soon came up with\nBucciolo, and thus addressed him: \"My lady, signor, my lady,\nGiovanna, would be glad of your company this evening, she would\nbe very glad to speak with you.\"  Greatly surprised at this,\nBucciolo replied, \"Tell your lady I shall be most happy to wait\nupon her,\" so saying, he set off once more to the professor, and\nreported the progress of the affair.  But this time the master\nlooked a little more serious; for, from some trivial\ncircumstances put together, he began to entertain suspicions that\nthe lady was (as it really turned out) no other than his own\nwife.  So he rather anxiously inquired of Bucciolo whether he\nintended to accept the invitation.  \"To be sure I do,\" replied\nhis pupil.  \"Then,\" said the professor, \"promise that you will\ncome here before you set off.\"  \"Certainly I will,\" answered\nBucciolo readily, and took his leave.\n\nNow Bucciolo was far from suspecting that the lady bore so near a\nrelationship to his respected tutor, although the latter began to\nbe rather uneasy as to the result, feeling some twinges of\njealousy which were by no means pleasant.  For he passed most of\nhis winter evenings at the college where he gave lectures, and\nnot unfrequently remained there for the night.  \"I should be\nsorry,\" said he to himself, \"if this young gentleman were\nlearning these things at my expense, and I must therefore know\nthe real state of the case.\"  In the evening his pupil called\naccording to promise, saying, \"Worthy master, I am now ready to\ngo.\"  \"Well, go,\" replied the professor; \"but be wise, Signor\nBucciolo--be wise and think more than once what you are about.\"\n\"Trust me for that,\" said the scholar, a little piqued: \"I shall\ngo well provided, and not walk into the mouth of danger unarmed.\"\nAnd away he went, furnished with a good cuirass, a rapier, and a\nstiletto in his belt.  He was no sooner on his way than the\nprofessor slipped out quietly after him, dogging his steps\nclosely, until, trembling with rage, he saw him stop at his own\nhouse-door, which, on a smart tap being given, was quickly opened\nby the lady herself and the pupil admitted.  When the professor\nsaw that it was indeed his own wife, he was quite overwhelmed and\nthought, \"Alas, I fear this young fellow has learned more than he\nconfesses at my expense;\" and vowing to be revenged, he ran back\nto the college, where arming himself with sword and dagger, he\nthen hastened to his house in a terrible passion. Arriving at his\nown door, he knocked loudly, and the lady, sitting before the\nfire with Bucciolo, instantly knew it was her husband, so taking\nhold of Bucciolo, she concealed him hurriedly under a heap of\ndamp clothes lying on a table near the window for ironing, which\ndone, she ran to the door and inquired who was there.  \"Open\nquickly,\" exclaimed the professor.  \"You vile woman, you shall\nsoon know who is here!\"  On opening the door, she beheld him with\na drawn sword, and cried in well-affected alarm, \"O my dearest\nlife, what means this?\"  \"You know very well what it means,\" said\nhe.  \"The villain is now in the house.\"  \"Good Heaven! what is\nthat you say?\" exclaimed the lady.  \"Are you gone out of your\nwits? Come and search the house, and if you find anybody, I will\ngive you leave to kill me on the spot.  What! do you think I\nshould now begin to misconduct myself as I never before did \u0096 as\nnone of my family ever did before? Beware lest the Evil One\nshould be tempting you, and, suddenly depriving you of your\nsenses, draw you to perdition!\"  But the professor, calling for\ncandles, began to search the house from the cellar upwards--among\nthe tubs and casks--in every place but the right place--running\nhis sword through the beds and under the beds, and into every\ninch of the bedding--leaving no corner or crevice of the whole\nhouse untouched.  The lady accompanied him with a candle in her\nhand, frequently interrupting him with, \"Say your beads--say your\nbeads, good signor; it is certain that the Evil One is dealing\nwith you, for were I half so bad as you esteem me, I would kill\nmyself with my own hands.  But I entreat you not to give way to\nthis evil suggestion: oppose the adversary while you can.\"\nHearing these virtuous observations of his wife, and not being\nable to discover any one after the strictest search, the\nprofessor began to think that he must, after all, be possessed,\nand presently extinguished the lights and returned to the\ncollege.  The lady, on shutting the door after him, called out to\nBucciolo to come from his hiding place, and then, stirring the\nfire, began to prepare a fine capon for supper, with some\ndelicious wines and fruits.  And thus they regaled themselves,\nhighly entertained with each other, nor was it their least\nsatisfaction that the professor had just left them, apparently\nconvinced that they had learned nothing at his expense.\n\nProceeding to the college the next morning, Bucciolo, without the\nleast suspicion of the truth, informed his master that he had\nsomething for his ear which he was sure would make him laugh.\n\"How so?\" demanded the professor. \"Why,\" said his pupil, \"you\nmust know that last night, just as I had entered the lady's\nhouse, who should come in but her husband, and in such a rage!\nHe searched the whole house from top to bottom, without being\nable to find me.  I lay under a heap of newly-washed clothes,\nwhich were not half dry.  In short, the lady played her part so\nwell that the poor gentleman forthwith took his leave, and we\nafterwards ate a fine capon for supper and drank such wines--and\nwith such zest!  It was really one of the pleasantest evenings I\never spent in my life.  But I think I'll go and take a nap, for I\npromised to return this evening about the same hour.\"  \"Then be\nsure before you go,\" said the professor, trembling with\nsuppressed rage, \"be sure to come and tell me when you set out.\"\n\"O certainly,\" responded Bucciolo, and away he went.  Such was\nnow the unhappy tutor's condition as to render him incapable of\ndelivering a single lecture during the whole day, and such was\nhis extreme vexation and eagerness for evening, that he spent his\ntime in arming himself with sword and dagger and cuirass,\nmeditating only upon deeds of blood.  At the appointed time came\nBucciolo, with the utmost innocence, saying, \"My dear master, I\nam going now.\"  \"Yes, go,\" replied the professor, \"and come back\nto-morrow morning, if you can, and tell me how you have fared.\"\n\"I intend doing so,\" said Bucciolo, and departed at a brisk pace\nfor the house of the lady.\n\nArmed cap-\ufffd-pie, the professor ran out after him, keeping pretty\nclose to his heels, with the intention of catching him just as he\nentered.  But the lady, being on the watch, opened the door\nsuddenly for the pupil and shut it in her husband's face.  The\nprofessor began to knock and to call out with a furious noise.\nExtinguishing the light in a moment, the lady placed Bucciolo\nbehind the door, and throwing her arms round her husband's neck\nas he entered, motioned to her lover while thus she held his\nenemy to make his escape, and he, upon the husband's rushing\nforward, slipped out from behind the door unperceived.  She then\nbegan to scream as loud as she could, \"Help! Help! The professor\nhas gone mad! Will nobody help me?\" for he was in an ungovernable\nrage, and she clung faster to him than before.  The neighbours\nrunning to her assistance and seeing the peaceable professor\narmed with deadly weapons, and his wife crying out, \"Help, for\nthe love of Heaven!--too much study hath driven him mad!\"{ they\nreadily believed such to be the fact.  \"Come, good signor,\" they\nsaid, \"what is all this about?  Try to compose yourself--nay, do\nnot struggle so hard, but let us help you to your couch.\"  \"How\ncan I rest, think you,\" he replied, \"while this wicked woman\nharbours paramours in my house?  I saw him come in with my own\neyes.\"  \"Wretch that I am!\" cried his wife.  \"inquire of all my\nfriends and neighbours whether any one of them ever saw anything\nthe least unbecoming in my conduct.\"  The whole party with one voice entreated\nthe professor to lay such thoughts aside, for there was not a\nbetter lady breathing, or one who set a higher value upon her\nreputation.  \"But how can that be,\" said he, \"when I saw him\nenter the house, and he is in it now?\"  In the meanwhile the\nlady's two brothers arrived, when she began to weep bitterly,\nexclaiming, \"O my dear brothers, my poor husband has gone mad,\nquite mad--and he even says there is a man in the house.  I\nbelieve he would kill me if he could; but you know me too well to\nlisten for a moment to such a story,\" and she continued to weep.\n\nThe brothers then accosted the professor in no gentle terms:  \"We\nare surprised, signor--we are shocked to find that you dare\nbestow such epithets on our sister.  What can have led you, after\nliving so amicably together, to bring these charges against her\nnow?\" \"I can only tell you,\" answered the professor, \"that there\nis a man in the house.  I saw him enter.\"  \"Then come, and let us\nfind him.  Show him to us,\" retorted the incensed brothers, \"for\nwe will sift this matter to the bottom.  Show us the man, and we\nwill then punish her in such a way as will satisfy you.\"  One of\nthe brothers, taking his sister aside, said, \"First tell me, have\nyou really got any one hidden in the house? Tell the truth.\"\n\"Heavens!\" cried his sister, \"I tell you, I would rather suffer\ndeath.  Should I be the first to bring a scandal on our house?  I\nwonder you are not ashamed to mention such a thing.\"  Rejoiced to\nhear this, the brothers, directed by the professor, at once\ncommenced a search.  Half frantic, he led them at once to the\ngreat bundle of linen, which he pierced through and through with\nhis sword, firmly believing that he was killing Bucciolo, all the\nwhile taunting him at every blow.  \"There! I told you,\" cried his\nwife, \"that he was mad.  To think of destroying your own property\nthus!  It is plain he did not help to get them up,\" she\ncontinued, whimpering--\"all my best clothes!\"\n\nHaving now sought everywhere in vain, one of the brothers\nobserved, \"He is indeed mad,\" to which the other agreed, while he\nagain attacked the professor in the bitterest terms:  \"You have\ncarried matters too far, signor; your conduct to our sister is\nshameful, and nothing but insanity can excuse it.\"  Vexed enough\nbefore, the professor upon this flew into a violent passion, and\nbrandished his naked sword in such a way that the others were\nobliged to use their sticks, which they did so very effectively\nthat, after breaking them over his head, they chained him down\nlike a maniac upon the floor, declaring he had lost his wits by\nexcessive study, and taking possession of his house, they\nremained with their sister all night.  Next morning they sent for\na physician, who ordered a couch to be placed as near as possible\nto the fire, that no one should be allowed to speak or reply to\nthe patient, and that he should be strictly dieted until he\nrecovered his wits; and this regimen was diligently\nenforced.[FN#489]\n\nA report immediately spread through Bologna that the good\nprofessor had become insane, which caused very general regret,\nhis friends observing to each other, \"It is indeed a bad\nbusiness; but I suspected yesterday how it was--he could scarcely\nget a word out as he was delivering his lecture, did you not\nperceive?\"  \"Yes,\" said another, \"I saw him change colour, poor\nfellow.\"  And by everybody, everywhere, it was decided that the\nprofessor was mad.  In this situation numbers of his scholars\nwent to see him, and among the rest Bucciolo, knowing nothing of\nwhat had happened, agreed to accompany them to the college,\ndesirous of acquainting his master with last night's adventure.\nWhat was his surprise to learn that he had actually taken leave\nof his senses, and being directed on leaving the college to the\nprofessor's house, he was almost panic-struck on approaching the\nplace, beginning to comprehend the whole affair.  Yet, in order\nthat no one might be led to suspect the truth, he walked into the\nhouse along with the rest, and on reaching a certain apartment\nwhich he knew, he beheld his poor tutor almost beaten to a mummy,\nand chained down upon his bed, close to the fire.  His pupils\nwere standing round condoling with him and lamenting his piteous\ncase.  At length it came to Bucciolo's turn to say something to\nhim, which he did as follows:  \"My dear master, I am as truly\nconcerned for you as if you were my own father, and if there is\nanything in which I can be of service to you, command me as your\nown son.\"  To this the poor professor only replied, \"No,\nBucciolo, depart in peace, my pupil; depart, for you have learned\nmuch, very much, at my expense.\"  Here his wife interrupted him:\n\"You see how he wanders--heed not what he says--pay no attention\nto him, signor.\"  Bucciolo, however, prepared to depart, and\ntaking a hasty leave of the professor, he proceeded to the\nlodging of his friend Pietro Paolo, and said to him, \"Fare you\nwell.  God bless you, my friend.  I must away; and I have lately\nlearned so much at other people's expense that I am going home.\"\nSo saying, he hurried away, and in due course arrived in safety\nin Rome.\n\nThe affliction of the professor of Giovanni's sprightly tale will\nprobably be considered by most readers as well-merited\npunishment; the young gallant proved an apt scholar in the art of\nlove, and here was the inciter to evil repaid with the same coin!\n\nStraparola also tells the story, but in a different form, in his\n\"Pleasant Nights\" (Piacevoli Notti), First Day, second novella;\nand his version is taken into a small collection entitled\n\"Tarlton's Newes out of Purgatorie,\" first published in or before\n1590--a catchpenny tract in which, of course, Dick Tarlton had\nnever a hand, any more than he had in the collection of jests\nwhich goes under his name.\n\n\n                  STRAPAROLA'S VERSION[FN#490]\n\nIn Pisa, a famous cittie of Italye, there lived a gentleman of good\nlinage and landes, feared as well for his wealth, as honoured\nfor his vertue, but indeed well thought on for both; yet the\nbetter for his riches.  This gentleman had one onelye daughter,\ncalled Margaret, who for her beauty was liked of all, and desired\nof many.  But neither might their sutes nor her owne prevaile\nabout her father's resolution, who was determyned not to marrye\nher, but to such a man as should be able in abundance to maintain\nthe excellency of her beauty.  Divers yong gentlemen proffered\nlarge feoffments, but in vaine, a maide shee must bee still: till\nat last an olde doctor in the towne, that professed phisicke,\nbecame a sutor to her, who was a welcome man to her father, in\nthat he was one of the welthiest men in all Pisa; a tall\nstripling he was and a proper youth, his age about foure score,\nhis heade as white as milke, wherein for offence sake there was\nleft never a tooth.  But it is no matter, what he wanted in\nperson he had in the purse, which the poore gentlewoman little\nregarded, wishing rather to tie herself to one that might fit her\ncontent, though they lived meanely, then to him with all the\nwealth in Italye.  But shee was yong, and forcst to follow her\nfather's direction, who, upon large covenants, was content his\ndaughter should marry with the doctor, and whether she likte him\nor no, the match was made up, and in short time she was married.\nThe poore wench was bound to the stake, and had not onely an olde\nimpotent man, but one that was so jealous, as none might enter\ninto his house without suspition, nor shee doo any thing without\nblame; the least glance, the smallest countenance, any smile was\na manifest instance to him that she thought of others better than\nhimselfe.  Thus he himselfe lived in a hell, and tormented his\nwife in as ill perplexitie.\n\nAt last it chaunced that a young gentleman of the citie, comming\nby her house, and seeing her looke out at her window, noting her\nrare and excellent proportion, fell in love with her, and that so\nextreamelye, as his passions had no meanes till her favour might\nmittigate his heart sicke discontent.  The yong man that was\nignorant in amorous matters, and had never beene used to courte\nanye gentlewoman, thought to reveale his passions to some one\nfreend that might given him counsaile for the winning of her\nlove, and thinking experience was the surest maister, on a daye\nseeing the olde doctor walkinge in the churche that was\nMargaret's husband, little knowing who he was, he thought this\nthe fittest man to whom he might discover his passions, for that\nhee was olde and knew much, and was a phisition that with his\ndrugges might helpe him forward in his purposes, so that seeing\nthe olde man walke solitary, he joinde unto him, and after a\ncurteous salute, tolde him that he was to impart a matter of\ngreat import to him, wherein, if hee would not onely be secrete,\nbut indevour to pleasure him, his pains should bee every way to\nthe full considered.  You must imagine, gentleman, quoth Mutio,\nfor so was the doctor's name, that men of our profession are no\nblabs, but hold their secrets in their hearts bottome, and\ntherefore reveale what you please, it shall not onely be\nconcealed, but cured, if either my art or counsaile may doo it.\nUpon this, Lyonell, so was the young gentleman called, told and\ndiscourst unto him from point to point, how he was falne in love\nwith a gentlewoman that was married to one of his profession,\ndiscovered her dwelling and the house, and for that he was\nunacquainted with the woman, and a man little experienced in love\nmatters, he required his favour to further him with his advice.\nMutio at this motion was stung to the hart, knowing it was his\nwife hee was fallen in love withall, yet to conceale the matter,\nand to experience his wive's chastity, and that if she plaide\nfalse, he might be revenged on them both, he dissembled the\nmatter, and answered that he knewe the woman very well, and\ncommended her highly: but said she had a churle to her husband,\nand therefore he thought shee would bee the more tractable: Trye\nher, man, quoth hee, fainte harte never wonne faire lady, and if\nshee will not be brought to the bent of your bowe, I will provide\nsuch a potion as shall dispatch all to your owne content: and to\ngive you further instructions for oportunitie, knowe that her\nhusband is foorth every after-noone from three till sixe.  Thus\nfarre I have advised you, because I pitty your passions, as my\nselfe being once a lover, but now I charge thee reveale it to\nnone whomsoever, least it doo disparage my credit to meddle in\namorous matters.\n\nThe yong gentleman not onely promised all carefull secrecy, but\ngave him harty thanks for his good counsell, promising to meete\nhim there the next day, and tell him what newes.  Then hee left\nthe old man, who was almost mad for feare his wife any way should\nplay false; he saw by experience brave men came to besiege the\ncastle, and seeing it was in a woman's custodie, and had so weeke a\ngovernor as himselfe, he doubted it would in time be delivered\nup: which feare made him almost franticke, yet he drivde of the\ntime great torment, till he might heare from his rival.  Lionello\nhe hastes him home and sutes him in his braverye, and goes downe\ntoward the house of Mutio, where he sees her at the windowe, whome\nhe courted with a passionate looke, with such humble salute as\nshee might perceive how the gentleman was affectionate.\nMargaretta, looking earnestlye upon him, and noting the\nperfection of his proportion, accounted him in her eye the flower\nof all Pisa, thinkte herselfe fortunate if shee might have him\nfor her freend, to supply the defaultes that she found in Mutio.\nSundry times that afternoone he past by her window, and he cast\nnot up more loving lookes, then he received gratious favours,\nwhich did so incourage him that the next daye betweene three and\nsixe hee went to her house, and knocking at the doore, desired to\nspeake with the mistris of the house, who hearing by her maid's\ndescription what he was, commaunded him to come in, where she\nintertained him with all courtesie.\n\nThe youth that never before had given the attempt to court a\nladye, began his exordium with a blushe; and yet went forward so\nwell, that hee discourst unto her howe hee loved her, and that if\nit might please her to accept of his service, as of a freende\never vowde in all dutye to bee at her commaunde, the care of her\nhonour should bee deerer to him than his life, and hee would be\nready to prise her discontent with his bloud at all times.  The\ngentlewoman was a little coye, but, before they part, they\nconcluded that the next daye at foure of the clock hee should\ncome thither and eate a pound of cherries, which was resolved on\nwith a succado des labras, and so with a loath to depart they\ntooke their leaves.  Lionello as joyfull a man as might be, hyed\nhim to the church to meete his olde doctor, where he found him in\nhis olde walke: What newes, syr, quoth Mutio, how have you sped?\nEven as I can wishe, quoth Lionello, for I have been with my\nmistrisse, and have found her so tractable, that I hope to make\nthe olde peasant, her husband, looke broadheaded by a paire of\nbrowantlers.  How deepe this strooke into Mutio's hart, let them\nimagine that can conjecture what jelousie is; insomuch that the\nolde doctor askte when should be the time.  Marry, quoth\nLionello, tomorrow, at foure of the clocke in the afternoone, and then\nMaister Doctor, quoth hee, will I dub the old squire knight of\nthe forked order.\n\nThus they past on in that, till it grew late, and then Lyonello\nwent home to his lodging and Mutio to his house, covering all his\nsorrows with a merrye countenance, with full resolution to\nrevenge them both the next daye with extremitie.  He past the\nnight as patiently as he could, and the next daye, after dinner,\nawaye hee went, watching when it should bee foure of the clocke.\nAt the hour justly came Lyonello and was intertained with all\ncurtesie; but scarce had they kist, ere the maide cryed out to her\nmistresse that her maister was at the doore; for he hasted,\nknowing that a horne was but a litle while in grafting.\nMargaret, at this alarum, was amazed, and yet for a shift chopt\nLionello into a great driefatte[FN#491] full of feathers,[FN#492]\nand sat her downe close to her woorke.  By that came Mutio in\nblowing, and as though hee came to looke somewhat in haste,\ncalled for the keyes of his chamber, and looked in everye place,\nsearching so narrowlye in everye corner of the house, that he\nleft not the very privie unsearcht.  Seeing he could not finde\nhim, hee said nothing, but fayning himselfe not well at ease,\nstaide at home; so that poor Lionello was faine to staye in the\ndrifatte till the olde churle was in bed with his wife; and then\nthe maide let him out at a backe doore, who went home with a flea\nin his eare to his lodging.\n\nWell, the next day he went againe to meete his doctor, whome he\nfounde in his wonted  walke.  What newes? Quoth Mutio, how have\nyou sped?  A poxe of the olde slave, quoth Lyonello; I was no\nsooner in and had given my mistresse one kisse, but the jelous\nasse was at the doore; the maide spied him, and cryed her\nmaister; so that the poore gentlewoman, for very shifte, was\nfaine to put me in a driefatte of feathers that stoode in an olde\nchamber, and there I was faine to tarry while[FN#493] he was in\nbed and a-sleepe, and then the maide let me out, and I departed.\nBut it is no matter; 'twas but a chaunce, and I hope to crye\nquittance with him ere it be long.  As how? Quoth Mutio.  Marry,\nthus, quoth Lionello: shee sent me woord by her maide this daye\nthat upon Thursday next the olde churle suppeth with a patient of\nhis a mile out of Pisa, and then I feare not but to\nquitte[FN#494] him for all.  It is well, quoth Mutio; fortune bee\nyour frende.  I thanke you, quoth Lionello: and so, after a\nlittle more prattle, they departed.\n\nTo bee shorte, Thursdaye came, and about sixe of the clocke,\nfoorth goes Mutio no further than a freendes house of his, from\nwhence he might descrye who went into his house; straight hee saw\nLionello enter in, and after goes hee, insomuche that hee was\nscarcelye sitten downe, before the mayde cryed out againe, my\nmaister comes.  The goodwife, that before had provided for after-\nclaps,[FN#495] had found out a privie place between two seelings\nof a plauncher,[FN#496] and there she thrust Lionello, and her\nhusband came sweting.  What news, quoth shee, drives you home\nagaine so soone, husband?  Marry, sweete wife, quoth he, a\nfearfull dream that I had this night, which came to my\nremembrance, and that was this: me thought there was a villaine\nthat came secretlye into my house, with a naked poinard in his\nhand, and hid himselfe, but I could not finde the place; with\nthat mine nose bled, and I came backe; and, by the grace of God, I\nwill seeke every corner in the house for the quiet of my minde.\nMarry, I pray you doo, husband, quoth she.  With that he lockt in\nall the doors, and began to search every chamber, every hole,\nevery chest, every tub, the very well; he stabd every feather bed\nthrough, and made havocke like a mad man, which made him thinke\nall was in vaine; and hee began to blame his eies that thought\nthey saw that which they did not.  Upon this he rest halfe\nlunaticke, and all night he was very wakefull, that towards the\nmorning he fell into a dead sleepe, and then was Lionello\nconveighed away.\n\nIn the morning when Mutio wakened, hee thought how by no meanes\nhee should be able to take Lionello tardy: yet he laid in his\nhead a most dangerous plot; and that was this:  Wife, quoth he, I\nmust the next Monday ride to Vycensa, to visit an olde patient of\nmine; till my returne, which will be some ten dayes, I will have\nthee staye at our little graunge house in the countrey.  Marry,\nvery well content, quoth she.  With that he kist her, and was\nverye pleasant, as though he had suspected nothing, and away hee\nflings to the church, where he meetes Lionello.  What, sir, quoth\nhe, what news? is your mistresse yours in possession?  No, a\nplague of the olde slave, quoth hee.  I think he is either a\nwitch or els woorkes by magick; for I can no sooner enter into\nthe doores, but he is at my backe, and so he was againe\nyesternight; for I was not warm in my seate before the maide\ncryed, my maister comes; and then was the poore soule faine to\nconveigh me betweene two seelings of a chamber, in a fit place\nfor the purpose, wher I laught hartely to myself too see how he\nsought every corner, ransakt every tub, and stabd every feather\nbed, but in vaine; I was safe enough until the morning, and then,\nwhen he was fast asleepe, I lept out.  Fortune frownes on you,\nquoth Mutio.  I,[FN#497] but I hope, quoth Lionello, this is the\nlast time, and now shee will begin to smile; for on Monday next\nhe rides to Vicensa, and his wife lyes at the grange house a\nlittle (out) of the towne, and there in his absence I will\nrevenge all forepast misfortunes.  God sent it be so, quoth\nMutio; and so took his leave.\n\nThese two lovers longd for Monday, and at last it came.  Early in\nthe morning Mutio horst himselfe and his wife, his maide and a\nman, and no more, and away he rides to his grange house, wher,\nafter he had brok his fast, he took his leave, and away towards\nVicensa.  He rode not far ere, by a false way, he returned into\na thicket, and there, with a company of cuntry peasants, lay in\nan ambuscade to take the young gentleman.  In the afternoon comes\nLionello galloping, and as soon as he came within sight of the\nhouse, he sent back his horse by his boy, and went easily afoot,\nand there, at the very entry, was entertained by Margaret, who\nled him up the staires, and convaid him into her bedchamber,\nsaying he was welcome into so mean a cottage.  But, quoth she,\nnow I hope fortun shall not envy the purity of our loves.  Alas!\nalas! mistris, cried the maid, heer is my maister, and 100 men\nwith him, with bils and staves.  We are betraid, quoth Lionel,\nand I am but a dead man.  Feare not, quoth she, but follow me:\nand straight she carried him downe into a low parlor, where\nstoode an olde rotten chest full of writinges; she put him into\nthat, and covered him with olde papers and evidences, and went to\nthe gate to meet her husband.\n\nWhy, Signor Mutio, what meanes this hurly burly? quoth she.  Vile\nand shameless strumpet as thou art, thou shalt know by and by,\nquoth he.  Where is thy love?  All we have watcht him and seen\nhim enter in.  Now, quoth he, shall neither thy tub of feathers\nor thy seeling serve, for perish he shall with fire, or els fall\ninto my handes.  Doo thy worst, jealous foole, quoth she, I ask\nthee no favour.  With that, in a rage, he beset the house round,\nand then set fire on it.  Oh, in what perplexitie was poore\nLionello in that he was shut in a chest, and the fire about his\neares! and how was Margaret passionat, that knew her lover was in\nsuch danger!  Yet she made light of the matter, and, as one in a\nrage, called her maid to her and said: Come on, wench, seeing thy\nmaister, mad with jelousie, hath set the house and al my living\non fire, I will be revengd on him: help me heer to lift this old\nchest where all his writings and deeds are; let that burne first,\nand as soon as I see that on fire I will walke towards my\nfreends, for the olde foole will be beggard, and I will refuse\nhim.  Mutio, that knew al his obligations and statutes lay there,\npuld her back and bad two of his men carry the chest into the\nfield, and see it were safe, himselfe standing by and seeing his\nhouse burned downe sticke and stone.  Then, quieted in his mind,\nhe went home with his wife and began to flatter her, thinking\nassuredly that he had burnt her paramour, causing his chest to be\ncarried in a cart to his house in Pisa.  Margaret, impatient,\nwent to her mother's and complained to her and her brethren of\nthe jealousie of her husband, who maintaned her it to be true,\nand desired but a daies respite to proove it.\n\nWel, hee was bidden to supper the next night at her mother's, she\nthinking to make her daughter and him freends againe.  In the\nmeane time he to his woonted walk in the church, and there,\npr\ufffdter expectationem, he found Lionello walking.  Wondring at\nthis, he straight enquires what newes.  What newes, Maister\nDoctor, quoth he, and he fell in a great laughing; in faith\nyesterday, I scapt a scouring, for syrrha, I went to the grange-\nhouse, where I was appointed to come, and I was no sooner gotten\nup the chamber, but the magicall villeine, her husband, beset\nthe house with bils and staves, and that he might be sure no\nseeling nor corner should shrowde me, he set the house on fire,\nand so burnt it downe to the ground.  Why, quoth Mutio, and how\ndid you escape?  Alas, quoth he, wel fare a woman's wit; she\nconveighed me into an old chest full of writings, which she knew\nher husband durst not burne, and so I was saved and brought to\nPisa, and yesternight, by her maide, let home to my lodging.\nThis, quoth he, is the pleasantest jest that ever I heard; and\nupon this I have a sute to you: I am this night bidden foorth to\nsupper, you shall be my guest, onely I will crave so much favour,\nas after supper for a pleasant sporte, to make relation what\nsuccesse you have had in your loves.  For that I will not sticke,\nquoth he, and so he conveyed Lionello to his mother-in-law's\nhouse with him, and discovered to his wive's brethren who he was,\nand how at supper he would disclose the whole matter; For, quoth\nhe, he knowes not that I am Margaret's husband.  At this all the\nbrethren bad him welcome, and so did the mother to, and Margaret,\nshe was kept out of sight.  Supper time being come they fell to\ntheir victals, and Lionello was carrowst unto by Mutio, who was\nvery pleasant, to drawe him into a merry humour, that he might to\nthe ful discourse the effect and fortunes of his love.  Supper\nbeing ended, Mutio requested him to tel to the gentlemen what had\nhapned between him and his mistresse.  Lionello, with a smiling\ncountenance, began to describe his mistresse, the house and\nstreet where she dwelt, how he fell in love with her, and how he\nused the councell of this doctor, who in all his affaires was his\nsecretarye.  Margaret heard all this with a great feare, and when\nhe came to the last point, she caused a cup of wine to be given\nhim by one of her sisters, wherein was a ring that he had given\nMargaret.  As he had told how he had escapt burning, and was\nready to confirme all for a troth, the gentlewoman drunke to him,\nwho taking the cup and seeing the ring, having a quick wit and a\nreaching head, spide the fetch, and perceived that all this while\nthis was his lover's husband to whome hee had revealed these\nescapes; at this drinking the wine and swallowing the ring into\nhis mouth he went forward.  Gentlemen, quoth he, how like you of\nmy loves and my fortunes?  Wel, quoth the gentlemen; I pray you\nis it true?  As true, quoth he, as if I would be so simple as to\nreveal what I did to Margaret's husband; for, know you,\ngentlemen, that I knew this Mutio to be her husband whom I\nnotified to be my lover; and for that he was generally known\nthroughout Pisa to be a jealous fool, therefore, with these tales\nI brought him into paradice, which are follies of mine owne\nbraine; for, trust me, by the faith of a gentleman, I never spake\nto the woman, was never in her companye, neyther doo I know her\nif I see her.  At this they all fell in a laughing at Mutio, who\nwas ashamde that Lionello had so scoft him.  But all was well;\nthey were made friends, but the jest went so to his hart that he\nshortly after died, and Lionello enjoyed the ladye.\n\nSer Giovanni's story, Roscoe observes, is \"curious as having\nthrough the medium of translation suggested the idea of those\namusing scenes in which the renowned Falstaff acquaints Master\nFord, disguised under the name of Brooke, with his progress in\nthe good graces of Mrs. Ford.  The contrivances likewise by which\nhe eludes the vengeance of the jealous husband are similar to\nthose recounted in the novel, with the addition of throwing the\nunweildy knight into the river.  Dunlop says that the same story\nhas been translated is a collection entitled 'The Fortunate,\nDeceived, and Unfortunate Lovers,' and that Shakspeare may\nprobably also have seen it in 'Tarlton's Newes out of\nPurgatorie,' where the incidents related in the Lovers of Pisa\nare given according to Straparola's story.  Moli\ufffdre made a happy\nuse of it in his 'Ecole des Femmes,' where the humour of the\npiece turns upon a young gentleman confiding his progress in the\naffections of a lady to the ear of her guardian, who believed he\nwas on the point of espousing her himself.\"  Two other French\nplays were based upon the story, one of which was written by La\nFontaine under the title of \"Le Ma\ufffdtre en Droit.\"  Readers of\n\"Gil Blas\" will also recollect how Don Raphael confides to\nBalthazar the progress of his amour with his wife, and expresses\nhis vexation at the husband's unexpected return.\n\nIt is much to be regretted that nothing is known as to the date\nand place of the composition of the Breslau edition of The\nNights, which alone contains this and several other tales found\nin the collections of the early Italian novelists.\n\n\n\n\nTHE KING WHO KENNED THE QUINTESSENCE OF THINGS.--Vol. XI. p. 212.\n\n\n\nAlthough we may find, as already stated, the direct source of\nthis tale in the forty-sixth chapter of Al-Mas'\ufffddi's \"Meadows of\nGold and Mines of Gems,\" which was written about A.D. 943, yet\nthere exists a much older version--if not the original form--in a\nSanskrit collection entitled, \"Vet\ufffdlapanchavinsat\ufffd,\" or Twenty-\nfive Tales of a Vampyre.  This ancient work is incorporated with\nthe \"Kath\ufffd Sarit S\ufffdgara,\" or Ocean of the Streams of Story,\ncomposed in Sanskrit verse by Somadeva in the 11th century, after\na similar work, now apparently lost, entitled \"Vrihat Kath\ufffd,\" or\nGreat Story, written by Gunadhya, in the 6th century.[FN#498]  In\nthe opinion of Benfey all the Vampyre Tales are of Buddhist\nextraction (some are unquestionably so), and they probably date\nfrom before our era.  As a separate work they exist, more or less\nmodified, in many of the Indian vernaculars; in Hind\ufffd, under the\ntitle of \"Baital Pach\ufffds\ufffd\"; in Tamil, \"Vedala Kadai\"; and there\nare also versions in Telegu, Mahratta, and Canarese.  The\nfollowing is from Professor C. H. Tawney's complete translation\nof the \"Kath\ufffd Sarit S\ufffdgara\" (it is the 8th recital of the\nVet\ufffdla):\n\n\n                         INDIAN VERSION\n\nThere is a great tract of land assigned to Br\ufffdhmans in the\ncountry of Anga, called Vrikshaghata.  In it there lived a rich\nsacrificing Br\ufffdhman named Vishnusv\ufffdmin.  And he had a wife equal\nto himself in birth.  And by her he had three sons born to him,\nwho were distinguished for preternatural acuteness.  In course of\ntime they grew up to be young men.  One day, when he had begun a\nsacrifice, he sent those three brothers to the sea to fetch a\nturtle.  So off they went, and when they had found a turtle, the\neldest said to his two brothers, \"Let one of you take the turtle\nfor our father's sacrifice; I cannot take it, as it is all\nslippery with slime.\"  When the eldest said this, the two younger\nones answered him, \"If you hesitate about taking it, why should\nnot we?\"  When the eldest heard that, he said, \"You two must take\nthe turtle; if you do not, you will have obstructed your father's\nsacrifice, and then you will certainly sink down to hell.\" When\nhe told the younger brothers this, they laughed and said to him,\n\"If you see our duty so clearly, why do you not see that your own\nis the same?\"  Then the eldest said, \"What, do you not know how\nfastidious I am?  I am very fastidious about eating, and I cannot\nbe expected to touch what is repulsive.\"  The middle brother,\nwhen he heard this speech of his, said to his brother, \"Then I am\na more fastidious person than you, for I am a most fastidious\nconnoisseur of the fair sex.\"  When the middle one said this, the\neldest went on to say, \"Then let the younger of you two take the\nturtle.\"  Then the youngest brother frowned, and in his turn said\nto the two elder, \"You fools, I am very fastidious about beds; so\nI am the most fastidious of the lot.\"\n\nSo the three brothers fell to quarrelling with one another, and\nbeing completely under the dominion of conceit, they left that\nturtle and went off immediately to the court of the king of that\ncountry, whose name was Prasenajit, and who lived in a city named\nVitankapura, in order to have the dispute decided.  There they\nhad themselves announced by the warder, and went in, and gave the\nking a circumstantial account of their case.  The king said,\n\"Wait here, and I will put you all in turn to the proof;\" so they\nagreed and remained there.  And at the time that the king took\nhis meal, he had them conducted to a seat of honour, and given\ndelicious food fit for a king, possessing all the six flavours.\nAnd while all were feasting around him, the Br\ufffdhman who was\nfastidious about eating along of the company did not eat, but sat\nthere with his face puckered up with disgust.  The king himself\nasked the Br\ufffdhman why he did not eat his food, though it was\nsweet and fragrant, and he slowly answered him, \"I perceive in\nthis food an evil smell of the reek from corpses, so I cannot\nbring myself to eat it, however delicious it may be.\"  When he\nsaid this before the assembled multitude, they all smelled it by\nthe king's orders, and said, \"This food is prepared from white\nrice and is good and fragrant.\"  But the Br\ufffdhman who was so\nfastidious about eating would not touch it, but stopped his nose.\nThen the king reflected, and proceeded to inquire into the\nmatter, and found out from his officers that the food had been\nmade from rice which had been grown in a field near the burning\ngh\ufffdt of a certain village.  Then the king was much astonished,\nand, being pleased, he said to him, \"In truth you are very\nparticular as to what you eat; so eat of some other dish.\"\n\nAnd after they had finished their dinner, the king dismissed the\nBr\ufffdhmans to their apartments and sent for the loveliest lady of\nhis court.  And in the evening he sent that fair one, all whose\nlimbs were of faultless beauty, splendidly adorned, to the second\nBr\ufffdhman, who was so squeamish about the fair sex.  And that\nmatchless kindler of Cupid's flame, with a face like the full\nmoon of midnight, went, escorted by the king's servants, to the\nchamber of the Br\ufffdhman.  But when she entered, lighting up the\nchamber with her brightness, that gentleman who was so fastidious\nabout the fair sex felt quite faint, and stopping his nose with\nhis left hand, said to the king's servants, \"Take her away; if\nyou do not, I am a dead man: a smell comes from her like that of\na goat.\"  When the king's servants heard this, they took the\nbewildered fair one to their sovereign, and told him what had\ntaken place.  And the king immediately had the squeamish\ngentleman sent for, and said to him, \"How can this lovely woman,\nwho has perfumed herself with sandal-wood, camphor, black aloes,\nand other splendid scents, so that she diffuses exquisite\nfragrance through the world, smell like a goat?\"  But though the\nking used this argument to the squeamish gentleman he stuck to\nhis point; and then the king began to have his doubts on the\nsubject, and at last, by artfully framed questions, he elicited\nfrom the lady herself that, having been separated in her\nchildhood from her mother and nurse, she had been brought up on\ngoat's milk.\n\nThen the king was much astonished, and praised highly the\ndiscernment of the man who was fastidious about the fair sex, and\nimmediately had given to the third Br\ufffdhman, who was fastidious\nabout beds, in accordance with his taste, a bed composed of seven\nmattresses placed upon a bedstead.  White smooth sheets and\ncoverlets were laid upon the bed, and the fastidious man slept\nupon it in a splendid room.  But, before half a watch of the\nnight had passed, he rose up from that bed, with his hand pressed\nto his side, screaming in an agony of pain.  And the king's\nofficers, who were there, saw a red crooked mark on his side, as\nif a hair had been pressed deep into it. And they went and told\nthe king, and the king said to them, \"Look and see if there is\nnot something under the mattress.\"  So they went and examined the\nbottom of the mattresses one by one, and they found a hair in the\nmiddle of the bedstead underneath them all.  And they took it and\nshowed it to the king, and they also brought the man who was\nfastidious about beds, and when the king saw the state of his\nbody, he was astonished.  And he spent the whole night in\nwondering how a hair could make so deep an impression on his skin\nthrough seven mattresses.[FN#499]\n\nAnd the next morning the king gave three hundred thousand gold\npieces to those fastidious men, because they were persons of\nwonderful discernment and refinement.  And they remained in great\ncomfort in the king's court, forgetting all about the turtle, and\nlittle did they reck of the fact that they had incurred sin by\nobstructing their father's sacrifice.[FN#500]\n\nThe story of the brothers who were so very \"knowing\" is common to\nmost countries, with occasional local modifications.  It is not\noften we find the knowledge of the \"quintessence of things\"\nconcentrated in a single individual, as in the case of the ex-\nking of our tale, but we have his exact counterpart--and the\ncircumstance is significant--in No. 2 of the \"Cento Novelle\nAntiche,\" the first Italian collection of short stories, made in\nthe 13th century, where a prisoner informs the king of Greece\nthat a certain horse has been suckled by a she-ass, that a jewel\ncontains a flaw, and that the king himself is a baker.  Mr.\nTawney, in a note on the Vet\ufffdla story, as above, refers also to\nthe decisions of Hamlet in Saxo Grammaticus, 1839, p. 138, in\nSimrock's \"Quellen des Shakespeare,\" I, 81-85; 5, 170; he lays\ndown that some bread tastes of blood (the corn was grown on a\nbattlefield); that some liquor tastes of iron (the malt was mixed\nwith water taken from a well in which some rusty swords had\nlain); that some bacon tastes of corpses (the pig had eaten a\ncorpse); lastly, that the king is a servant and his wife a\nserving-maid.  But in most versions of the story three brothers\nare the gifted heroes.\n\nIn \"M\ufffdlusine\"[FN#501] for 5 Nov. 1885, M. Ren\ufffd Basset cites an\ninteresting variant (in which, as is often the case, the \"Lost\nCamel\" plays a part, but we are not concerned about it at present)\nfrom Radloff's \"Proben der Volksliteratur der t\ufffdrkischen St\ufffdmme\nS\ufffdd-Sibiriens,\" as follows:\n\n\n                        SIBERIAN VERSION\n\nMeat and bread were set before the three brothers, and the prince\nwent out.  The eldest said, \"The prince is a slave;\" the second,\n\"This is dog's flesh;\" the youngest, \"This bread has grown over\nthe legs of a dead body.\"  The prince heard them.  He took a\nknife and ran to find his mother.  \"Tell me the truth,\" cried he-\n-\"were you unfaithful to my father during his absence?  A man who\nis here has called me a slave.\"  \"My son,\" replied she, \"If I\ndon't tell the truth, I shall die; if I tell it, I shall die.\nWhen thy father was absent, I gave myself up to a slave.\"  The\nprince left his mother and ran to the house of the shepherd:\n\"The meat which you have cooked to-day--what is it?  Tell the\ntruth, otherwise I'll cut your head off.\"  \"Master, if I tell it,\nI shall die; if I don't, I shall die.  I will be truthful.  It was\na lamb whose mother had no milk; on the day of its birth, it was\nsuckled by a bitch: that is to-day's ewe.\"  The prince left the\nshepherd and ran to the house of the husbandman: \"Tell the truth,\nor else I'll cut off your head.  Three young men have come to my\nhouse. I have placed bread before them, and they say that the\ngrain has grown over the limbs of a dead man.\"  \"I will be frank\nwith you.  I ploughed with my plough in a place where were\n(buried) the limbs of a man; without knowing it, I sowed some\nwheat, which grew up.\"  The prince quitted his slave and returned\nto his house, where were seated the strangers.  He said to the\nfirst, \"Young man, how do you know that I am a slave?\"  \"Because\nyou went out as soon as the repast was brought in.\"  He asked the\nsecond, \"How do you know that the meat which was served was that\nof a dog?\" \"Because it has a disagreeable taste like the flesh of\na dog.\"  Then to the third: \"How come you to know that this bread\nwas grown over the limbs of a dead person?\"  \"What shall I say?\nIt smells of the limbs of a dead body; that is why I recognised\nit.  If you do not believe me, ask your slave; he will tell you\nthat what I say is true.\"\n\nIn the same paper (col. 516) M. Ren\ufffd Basset cites a somewhat\nelaborate variant, from Stier's \"Ungarische Sagen und M\u00e4rchen,\"\nin which, once more, the knowledge of the \"quintessence of\nthings\" is concentrated in a single individual.\n\n\n                       HUNGARIAN VERSION\n\nA clever Magyar is introduced with his companions in disguise\ninto the camp of the king of the T\ufffdt\ufffdrs, who is menacing his\ncountry.  The prince, suspicious, causes him to be carefully\nwatched by his mother, a skilful sorceress.  They brought in the\nevening's repast.  \"What good wine the prince has!\" said she.\n\"Yes,\" replied one, \"but it contains human blood.\"  The sorceress\ntook note of the bed from whence these words proceeded, and when\nall were asleep she deftly cut a lock of hair from him who had\nspoken, crept stealthily out of the room, and brought this mark\nto her son.  The strangers started up, and when our hero\ndiscovered what had been done to him, he cut a lock from all, to\nrender his detection impossible.  When they came to dinner, the\nking knew not from whom the lock had been taken.  The following\nnight the mother of the prince again slipped into the room, and\nsaid, \"What good bread has the prince of the T\ufffdt\ufffdrs!\"  \"Very\ngood,\" replied one, \"it is made with the milk of a woman.\"  When\nall were asleep, she cut a little off the moustache of him who\nwas lying in the bed from which the voice proceeded.  This time\nthe Magyars were still more on the alert, and when they were\napprised of the matter, they all cut a little from their\nmoustaches, so that next morning the prince found himself again\nfoiled.  The third night the old lady hid herself, and said in a\nloud voice, \"What a handsome man is the prince of the T\ufffdt\ufffdrs!\"\n\"Yes,\" replied one, \"but he is a bastard.\"  When all were asleep,\nthe old lady made a mark on the visor of the helmet of the one\nfrom whence had come the words, and then acquainted her son of\nwhat she had done.  In the morning the prince perceived that all\nthe helmets were similarly marked.[FN#502] At length he\nrefrained, and said, \"I see that there is among you a master\ngreater than myself; that is why I desire very earnestly to know\nhim.  He may make himself known; I should like to see and know\nthis extraordinary man, who is more clever and powerful than\nmyself.\"  The young man started up from his seat and said, \"I\nhave not wished to be stronger or wiser than yourself.  I have\nonly wished to find out what you had preconcerted for us.  I am\nthe person who has been marked three nights.\"  \"It is well, young\nman.  But prove now your words:  How is there human blood in the\nwine?\"  \"Call your butler and he will tell you.\"  The butler came\nin trembling all over, and confessed that when he corked the wine\nhe had cut his finger with the knife, and a drop of blood had\nfallen into the cask.  \"But how is there woman's milk in the\nbread?\" asked the king.  \"Call the bakeress,\" he replied, \"and\nshe will tell it you.\"  When they questioned her, she confessed\nthat she was kneading the bread and at the same time suckling her\nbaby, and that on pressing it to her breast some milk flowed and\nwas mixed with the bread.  The sorceress, the mother of the king,\nwhen they came to the third revelation of the young man,\nconfessed in her turn that the king was illegitimate.\n\nMr. Tawney refers to the Chevalier de Mailly's version of the\nThree Princes of Serendip (Ceylon):  The three are sitting at\ntable, and eating a leg of lamb, sent with some splendid wine\nfrom the table of the emperor Bahr\ufffdm.  The eldest maintains that\nthe wine was made of grapes that grew in a cemetery; the second,\nthat the lamb was brought up on dog's milk; while the third\nasserts that the emperor had put to death the son of the waz\ufffdr.\nAnd that the latter is bent on vengeance.  All these statements\nturn out to be well-grounded.  Mr. Tawney also refers to parallel\nstories in the Breslau edition of The Nights; namely, in Night\n458, it is similarly conjectured that the bread was baked by a\nsick woman; that the kid was suckled by a bitch, and that the\nsultan is illegitimate; and in Night 459, a gem-cutter guesses\nthat a jewel has an internal flaw, a man skilled in the pedigrees\nof horses divines that a horse is the offspring of a female\nbuffalo, and a man skilled in human pedigrees that the mother of\nthe favourite queen was a rope-dancer.  Similar incidents occur\nin \"The Sultan of Yemen and his Three Sons,\" one of the\nAdditional Tales translated by Scott, from the Wortley-Montague\nMS., now in the Bodleian Library, and comprised in vol. vi. of\nhis edition of \"The Arabian Nights Entertainments,\" published at\nLondon in 1811.\n\nAn analogous tale occurs in Mr. E. J. W. Gibb's recently-\npublished translation of the \"History of the Forty Vezirs (the\nLady's Fourth Story, p. 69 ff.), the motif of which is that \"all\nthings return to their origin:\"\n\n\n                        TURKISH ANALOGUE.\n\nThere was in the palace of the world a king who was very desirous\nof seeing Khizr[FN#503] (peace on him!), and he would even say,\n\"If there be any one who will show me Khizr, I will give him\nwhatsoever he may wish.\"  Now there was at that time a man poor\nof estate, and from the stress of his poverty he said to himself,\n\"Let me go and speak to the king, that if he provide for me\nduring three years, either I shall be dead, or the king will be\ndead, or he will forgive me my fault, or I shall on somewise win\nto escape, and in this way shall I make merry for a time.\"  So he\nwent to the king and spake these words to him.[FN#504]  The king\nsaid, \"An thou show him not, then I will kill thee,\" and that\npoor man consented.  Then the king let give him much wealth and\nmoney, and the poor man took that wealth and money and went to\nhis house.  Three years he spent in merriment and delight, and he\nrested at ease till the term was accomplished.  At the end of\nthat time he fled and hid himself in a trackless place and he\nbegan to quake for fear.  Of a sudden he saw a personage with\nwhite raiment and shining face, who saluted him.  The poor man\nreturned the salutation, and the radiant being asked, \"Why art\nthou thus sad?\"  but he gave no answer.  Again the radiant being\nasked him and sware to him, saying, \"Do indeed tell to me thy\nplight, that I may find thee some remedy.\"  So that hapless one\nnarrated his story from its beginning to its end, and the radiant\nbeing said, \"Come, I will go with thee to the king, and I will\nanswer for thee.\"  So they arose.\n\nNow the king wanted that hapless one, and while they were going\nsome of the king's officers who were seeking met them, and they\nstraightway seized the poor man and brought him to the king.\nQuoth the king, \"Lo, the three years are accomplished; come now,\nand show me Khizr.\"  The poor man said, \"My king, grace and\nbounty are the work of kings--forgive my sin.\"  Quoth the king,\n\"I made a pact; till I have killed thee, I shall not have\nfulfilled it.\"  And he looked to his chief vez\ufffdr and said, \"How\nshould this be done?\"  Quoth the vez\ufffdr, \"This man should be hewn\nin many pieces and then hung up on butchers' hooks, that others\nmay see and lie not before the king.\"  Said that radiant being,\n\"True spake the vez\ufffdr;--all things return to their origin.\"  Then\nthe king looked to the second vez\ufffdr and said, \"What sayest thou?\"\nHe replied, \"This man should be boiled in a cauldron.\"  Said that\nradiant being, \"True spake the vez\ufffdr;--all things return to their\norigin.\"  The king looked to the third vezir and said, \"What\nsayest though?\"  The vez\ufffdr replied, \"This man should be hewn in\nsmall pieces and baked in an oven.\"  Again said that elder, \"True\nspake the vez\ufffdr;--all things return to their origin.\"  Then quoth\nthe king to the fourth vez\ufffdr, \"Let us see what sayest thou?\"  The\nvez\ufffdr replied, \"O king, the wealth thou gavest this poor creature\nwas for the love of Khizr (peace on him!).  he, thinking to find\nhim, accepted it; now that he has not found him he seeks pardon.\nThis were befitting, that thou set free this poor creature for\nthe love of Khizr.\"  Said that elder, \"True spake the vez\ufffdr;--all\nthings return to their origin.\"  Then the king said to the elder,\n\"O elder, my vez\ufffdrs have said different things contrary the one\nto the other, and thou hast said concerning each of them, 'True\nspake the vez\ufffdr; - all things return to their origin.'  What is\nthe reason thereof?\"  That elder replied, \"O king, thy first\nvez\ufffdr is a butcher's son; therefore did he draw to his origin.\nThy second vez\ufffdr is a cook's son, and he likewise proposed a\npunishment as became his origin.  Thy third vez\ufffdr is a baker's\nson; he likewise proposed a punishment as became his origin.\nBut thy fourth vez\ufffdr is of gentle birth; compassion therefore\nbecomes his origin, so he had compassion on that hapless one, and\nsought to do good and counselled liberation.  O king, all things\nreturn to their origin.\"[FN#505]  And he gave the king much\ncounsel, and at last said, \"Lo, I am Khizr,\" and\nvanished.[FN#506]\n\nThe discovery of the king's illegitimate birth, which occurs in\nso many versions, has its parallels in the story of the Nephew of\nHippocrates in the \"Seven Wise Masters,\" and the Lady's 2nd Story\nin Mr. Gibb's translation of the \"Forty Vez\ufffdrs.\"  The\nextraordinary sensitiveness of the third young Br\ufffdhman, in the\nVet\ufffdla story, whose side was scratched by a hair that was under\nthe seventh of the mattresses on which he lay, Rohde (says\nTawney), in his \"Griechische Novellistik,\" p. 62, compares with a\nstory told by Aelian of the Sybarite Smindyrides, who slept on a\nbed of rose-leaves and got up in the morning covered with\nblisters.  He also quotes from the Chronicle of Tabari a story of\na princess who was made to bleed by a rose-leaf lying in her\nbed.[FN#507]\n\nThe eleventh recital of the Vet\ufffdla is about a king's three\nsensitive wives:  As one of the queens was playfully pulling the\nhair of the king, a blue lotus leaped from her ear and fell on\nher lap; immediately a wound was produced on the front of her\nthigh by the blow, and the delicate princess exclaimed, \"Oh! oh!\"\nand fainted. At night, the second retired with the king to an\napartment on the roof of the palace exposed to the rays of the\nmoon, which fell on the body of the queen, who was sleeping by\nthe king's side, where it was exposed by her garment blowing\naside; immediately she woke up, exclaiming, \"Alas! I am burnt,\"\nand rose up from the bed rubbing her limbs.  The king woke up in\na state of alarm, crying out, \"What is the meaning of this?\"\nThen he got up and saw that blisters had been produced on the\nqueen's body.  In the meanwhile the king's third wife heard of it\nand left her palace to come to him.  And when she got into the\nopen air, she heard distinctly, as the night was still, the sound\nof a pestle pounding in a distant house.  The moment the gazelle-\neyed one heard it, she said, \"Alas! I am killed,\" and she sat\ndown on the path, shaking her hands in an agony of pain.  Then\nthe girl turned back, and was conducted by her attendants to her\nown chamber, where she fell on her bed and groaned.  And when her\nweeping attendants examined her, they saw that her hands were\ncovered with bruises, and looked like lotuses upon which black\nbeetles had settled.\n\nTo this piteous tale of the three very sensitive queens Tawney\nappends the following note:  Rohde, in his \"Griechische\nNovellistik,\" p. 62, compares with this a story told by Tim\ufffdus,\nof a Sybarite who saw a husbandman hoeing a field, and contracted\nrupture from it.  Another Sybarite, to whom he told the tale of\nhis sad mishap, got ear-ache from hearing it.  Oesterley, in his\nGerman translation of the Bait\ufffdl Pach\ufffds\ufffd, points out that Grimm,\nin his \"Kinderm\u00e4rchen,\" iii. p. 238, quotes a similar incident\nfrom the travels of the Three sons of Giaffar:  out of four\nprincesses, one faints because a rose-twig is thrown into her\nface among some roses; a second shuts her eyes in order not to\nsee the statue of a man; a third says, \"Go away; the hairs in\nyour fur cloak run into me;\" and the fourth covers her face,\nfearing that some of the fish in a tank may belong to the male\nsex.  He also quotes a striking parallel from the \"Elites des\ncontes du Sieur d'Onville:\" Four ladies dispute as to which of\nthem is the most delicate.  One has been lame for three months\nowing to a rose-leaf having fallen on her foot; another has had\nthree ribs broken by a sheet in her bed having been crumpled; a\nthird has held her head on one side for six weeks owing to one\nhalf of her head having three more hairs on it than the other; a\nfourth has broken a blood-vessel by a slight movement, and the\nrupture cannot be healed without breaking the whole limb.[Poor\nthings!]\n\n\n\n\nTHE PRINCE WHO FELL IN LOVE WITH THE PICTURE.--Vol. XI. p. 226.\n\n\n\nIn the Persian tales of \"The Thousand and One Days,\" a young\nprince entered his father's treasury one day, and saw there a\nlittle cedar chest \"set with pearls, diamonds, emeralds, and\ntopazes;\" on opening it (for the key was in the lock) he beheld\nthe picture of an exceedingly beautiful woman, with whom he\nimmediately fell in love.  Ascertaining the name of the lady from\nan inscription on the back of the portrait, he set off with a\ncompanion to discover her, and having been told by an old man at\nBaghdad that her father at one time reigned in Ceylon, he continued\nhis journey thither, encountering many unheard-of adventures by\nthe way.  Ultimately he is informed that the lady with whose\nportrait he had become enamoured was one of the favourites of\nKing Solomon.  One should suppose that his would have effectually\ncured the love-sick prince; but no:  he \"could never banish her\nsweet image from his heart.\"[FN#508]\n\nTwo instances of falling in love with the picture of a pretty\nwoman occur in the \"Kath\ufffd Sar\ufffdt S\ufffdgara.\"  In Book ix., chap. 51,\na painter shows King Prithvir\ufffdpa the \"counterfeit presentment\" of\nthe beauteous Princess Rapalat\ufffd, and \"as the king gazed on it his\neye was drowned in that sea of beauty her person, so that he\ncould not draw it out again.  For the king, whose longing was\nexcessive, could not be satisfied with devouring her form, which\npoured forth a stream of the nectar of beauty, as the partridge\ncannot be satisfied with devouring the moonlight.\"  In Book xii.,\nchap. 100, a female ascetic shows a wandering prince the portrait\nof the Princess Mand\ufffdravat\ufffd, \"and Sundarasena when he beheld that\nmaiden, who, though she was present there only in a picture,\nseemed to be of romantic beauty and like a flowing forth of joy,\nimmediately felt as if he had been pierced with the arrows of the\ngod of the flowery bow [i.e. K\ufffdma].\"  In chapter 35 of Scott's\ntranslation of the \"Bah\ufffdr-i-D\ufffdnish,\" Prince Ferokh-Faul opens a\nvolume, \"which he had scarcely done when the fatal portrait of\nthe fair princess who, the astrologers had foretold, was to\noccasion him so many perils, presented itself to his view.  He\ninstantly fainted, when the slave, alarmed, conveyed intelligence\nof his condition to the sultan, and related the unhappy cause of\nthe disorder.\"  In Gomberville's romance of Polexandre, the\nAfrican prince, Abd-el-Malik, falls in love with the portrait of\nAlcidiana, and similar incidents occur in the romance of\nAgesilaus of Colchos and in the Story of the Seven Waz\ufffdrs (vol.\nvi.); but why multiply instances?  Nothing is more common in\nAsiatic fictions.\n\n\n\n\n    THE FULLER, HIS WIFE, AND THE TROOPER.--Vol. XI. p. 231.\n\n\n\nIn addition to the versions of this amusing story referred to on\np. 231--all of which will be found in the second volume of my\nwork on \"Popular Tales and Fictions,\" pp. 212-228--there is yet\nanother in a Persian story-book, of unknown date, entitled,\n\"Shamsa \ufffd Kuhkuha,\" written by Mirza Berkhorder Turkman, of which\nan account, together with specimens, is given in a recently-\npublished little book (Quaritch), \"Persian Portraits: a sketch of\nPersian History, Literature, and Politics,\" by Mr. F. F.\nArbuthnot, author of \"Early Ideas: a Group of Hindoo Stories.\"\n\nThis version occurs in a tale of three artful wives--or, to\nemploy the story-teller's own graphic terms, \"three whales of the\nsea of fraud and deceit: three dragons of the nature of thunder\nand the quickness of lightning; three defamers of honour and\nreputation; namely, three men-deceiving, lascivious women, each\nof whom had from the chicanery of her cunning issued the diploma\nof turmoil to a hundred cities and countries, and in the arts of\nfraud they accounted Satan as an admiring spectator in the\ntheatre of their stratagems.[FN#509]  One of them was sitting in\nthe court of justice of the kazi's embrace; the second was the\nprecious gem of the bazaar-master's diadem of compliance; and the\nthird was the beazle and ornament of the signet-ring of the life\nand soul of the superintendent of police.  They were constantly\nentrapping the fawns of the prairie of deceit within the grasp of\ncunning, and plundered the wares of the caravans of tranquillity\nof hearts of strangers and acquaintances, by means of the edge of\nthe scimitar of fraud.  One day this trefoil of roguery met at\nthe public bath, and, according to their homogeneous nature they\nintermingled as intimately as the comb with the hair; they tucked\nup their garment of amity to the waist of union, entered the tank\nof agreement, seated themselves in the hot-house of love, and\npoured from the dish of folly, by means of the key of hypocrisy,\nthe water of profusion upon the head of intercourse; they rubbed\nwith the brush of familiarity and the soap of affection the\nstains of jealousies from each other's limbs.  After a while,\nwhen they had brought the pot of concord to boil by the fire of\nmutual laudation, they warmed the bath of association with the\nbreeze of kindness, and came out.  In the dressing-room all three\nof them happened simultaneously to find a ring, the gem of which\nsurpassed the imagination of the jeweler of destiny, and the like\nof which he had never beheld in the storehouse of possibility.\nIn short, these worthy ladies contended with each other for\npossession of the ring, until at length the mother of the bathman\ncame forward and proposed that they should entrust the ring to\nher in the meanwhile, and it should be the prize of the one who\nmost cleverly deceived and befooled her husband, to which they\nall agreed, and then departed for their respective\ndomiciles.[FN#510]\n\nMr. Arbuthnot's limits pertained only of abstracts of the tricks\nplayed upon their husbands by the three ladies--which the story-\nteller gives at great length--and that of the kazi's wife is as\nfollows:\n\nThe kazi's wife knows that a certain carpenter, who lived close\nto her, was very much in love with her.  She sends her maid to\nhim with a message to say that the flame of his love had taken\neffect upon her heart, and that he must make an underground\npassage between his house and her dwelling, so that they might\ncommunicate with each other freely by means of the mine.  The\ncarpenter digs the passage, and the lady pays him a visit, and\nsays to him, \"To-morrow I shall come here, and you must bring the\nkazi to marry me to you.\"  The next day the kazi goes to his\noffice; the lady goes to the carpenter's house, and sends him to\nbring her husband, the kazi, to marry them.  The carpenter\nfetches him, and, as the kazi hopes for a good present, he comes\nwillingly enough, but is much surprised at the extreme likeness\nbetween the bride and his own wife.  The more he looks at her,\nthe more he is in doubt; and at last, offering an excuse to fetch\nsomething, he rushes off to his own house, but is forestalled by\nhis spouse, who had gone thither by the passage, and on his\narrival is lying on her bed.  The kazi makes some excuses for his\nsudden entry into her room, and, after some words, goes back to\nthe carpenter's house; but his wife had preceded him, and is\nsitting in her place.  Again he begins the ceremony, but is\nattracted by a black mole on the corner of the bride's lip, which\nhe could have sworn was the same as that possessed by his wife.\nMaking more excuses, and in spite of the remonstrances of the\ncarpenter, he hurries back to his house once more; but his wife\nhad again got there before him, and he finds her reading a book,\nand much astonished at his second visit.  She suggests that he is\nmad, and he admits that his conduct is curious, and returns to\nthe carpenter's house to complete the ceremony.  This is again\nfrequently interrupted, but finally he marries his own wife to\nthe carpenter, and, having behaved in such an extraordinary\nmanner throughout, is sent off to a lunatic asylum.\n\nFor the tricks of the two other ladies, and for many other\nequally diverting tales, I refer the reader to Mr. Arbuthnot's\npleasing and instructive little book, which is indeed an\nadmirable epitome of the history and literature of Persia, and\none which was greatly wanted in these days, when most men, \"like\nthe dogs in Egypt for fear of the crocodiles, must drink of the\nwaters of information as they run, in dread of the old enemy\nTime.\"\n\nI have discussed the question of the genealogy of this tale\nelsewhere, but, after a somewhat more minute comparative analysis\nof the several versions, am disposed to modify the opinion which\nI then entertained.  I think we must consider as the direct or\nindirect source of the versions and variants the \"Miles\nGloriosus\" of Plautus, the plot of which, it is stated in the\nprologue to the second act, was taken from a Greek play.  It is,\nhowever, not very clear whether Berni adapted his story from\nPlautus or the \"Seven Wise Masters\"; probably from the former,\nsince in both the lady is represented, to the captain and the\ncuckold, as a twin sister, while in the S. W. M. the crafty\nknight pretends that she is his leman, come from Hungary with\ntidings that he may now with safety return home.  On the other\nhand, in the S. W. M., as in Plautus, the lovers make their\nescape by sea, an incident which Berni has altered to a journey\nby land--no doubt, in order to introduce further adventures for\nthe development of his main plot.  But then we find a point of\nresemblance between Berni and the S. W. M., in the incident of\nthe cuckold accompanying the lovers part of their way--in the\nlatter to the sea-shore; while in Plautus the deceived captain\nremains at home to prosecute an amour and get a thrashing for his\nreward (in Plautus, instead of a wife, it is the captain's slave-\ngirl).  It is curious that amidst all the masquerade of the\nArabian story the cuckold's wife also personates her\nsupposititious twin-sister, as in Plautus and Berni.  In Plautus\nthe houses of the lover and the captain adjoin, as is also the\ncase in the modern Italian and Sicilian versions; while in Berni,\nthe S. W. M., the Arabian, and the Persian story cited in this\nnote they are at some distance.  With these resemblances and\nvariations it is not easy to say which version was derived from\nanother.  Evidently the Arabian story has been deliberately\nmodified by the compiler, and he has, I think, considerably\nimproved upon the original: the ludicrous perplexity of the poor\nfuller when he awakes, to find himself apparently transformed\ninto a Turkish trooper, recalls the nursery rhyme of the little\nwoman \"who went to market her eggs for to sell,\" and falling\nasleep on the king's highway a pedlar cut off her petticoats up\nto the knees, and when she awoke and saw her condition she\nexclaimed, \"Lawk-a-mercy me, this is none of I!\" and so on.  And not less diverting is the pelting the blockhead receives from his brother fullers--altogether, a capital story.\n\n\n\n\n        TALE OF THE SIMPLETON HUSBAND.--Vol. XI. p. 239.\n\n\n\nThe \"curious\" reader will find European and Asiatic versions of this amusing story in \"Originals and Analogues of some of\nChaucer's Canterbury Tales,\" published for the Chaucer Society, pp. 177-188 and (in a paper contributed by me: \"The Enchanted Tree\") p. 341-364.\n\n\n\n\n    TALE OF THE THREE MEN AND OUR LORD ISA.--Vol XI. p. 250.\n\n\n\nUnder the title of \"The Robbers and the Treasure-Trove\" I have\nbrought together many European and Asiatic versions of this wide-\nspread tale in \"Chaucer Analogues,\" pp. 415-436.\n\n\n\n\n     THE MELANCHOLIST AND THE SHARPER. -- Vol. XI. p. 264.\n\n\n\nA similar but much shorter story is found in Gladwin's \"Persian\nMoonshee,\" and story-books in several of the Indian vernaculars\nwhich have been rendered into English:\n\nA miser said to a friend, \"I have now a thousand rupees, which I\nwill bury out of the city, and I will not tell the secret to any\none besides yourself.\"  They went out of the city together, and\nburied the money under a tree.  Some days after the miser went\nalone to the tree and found no signs of his money.  He said to\nhimself, \"Excepting that friend, no other has taken it away; but\nif I question him he will never confess.\"  He therefore went to\nhis (the friend's) house and said, \"A great deal of money is come\ninto my hands, which I want to put in the same place; if you will\ncome to-morrow, we will go together.\"  The friend, by coveting\nthis large sum, replaced the former money, and the miser next day\nwent there alone and found it.  He was delighted with his own\ncontrivance, and never again placed any confidence in friends.\n\nOne should suppose a miser the last person to confide the secret\nof his wealth to any one; but the Italian versions bear a closer\nresemblance to the Arabian story.  From No. 74 of the \"Cento\nNovelle Antiche\" Sacchetti, who was born in 1335 and is ranked by\nCrescimbini as next to Boccaccio, adapted his 198th novella,\nwhich is a most pleasing version of the Asiatic story:\n\n\n                        ITALIAN VERSION.\n\nA blind man of Orvieto, of the name of Cola, hit upon a device to\nrecover a hundred florins he had been cheated of, which showed he\nwas possessed of all the eyes of Argus, though he had unluckily\nlost his own.  And this he did without wasting a farthing either\nupon law or arbitration, by sheer dexterity; for he had formerly\nbeen a barber, and accustomed to shave very close, having then\nall his eyes about him, which had been now closed for about\nthirty years.  Alms seemed then the only resource to which he\ncould betake himself, and such was the surprising progress he in\na short time made in his new trade that he counted a hundred\nflorins in his purse, which he secretly carried about him until\nhe could find a safer place.  His gains far surpassed anything he\nhad realised with his razor and scissors; indeed, they increased\nso fast that he no longer knew where to bestow them; until one\nmorning happening to remain the last, as he believed, in the\nchurch, he thought of depositing his purse of a hundred florins\nunder a loose tile in the floor behind the door, knowing the\nsituation of the place perfectly well.  After listening some time\nwithout hearing a foot stirring, he very cautiously laid it in\nthe spot; but unluckily there remained a certain Juccio\nPezzichernolo, offering his adoration before an image of San\nGiovanni Boccadoro, who happened to see Cola busily engaged\nbehind the door.  He continued his adorations until he saw the\nblind man depart, when, not in the least suspecting the truth, he\napproached and searched the place.  He soon found the identical\ntile, and on removing it with the help of his knife, he found the\npurse, which he very quietly put into his pocket, replacing the\ntiles just as they were, and, resolving to say nothing about it,\nhe went home.\n\nAt the end of three days the blind mendicant, desirous of\ninspecting his treasure, took a quiet time for visiting the\nplace, and removing the tile searched a long while in great\nperturbation, but all in vain, to find his beloved purse.  At last,\nreplacing things just as they were, he was compelled to return in\nno very enviable state of mind to his dwelling; and there\nmeditating on his loss, the harvest of the toil of so many days,\nby dint of intense thinking a bright thought struck him (as\nfrequently happens by cogitating in the dark), how he had yet a\nkind of chance of redeeming his lost spoils.  Accordingly in the\nmorning he called his young guide, a lad about nine years old,\nsaying, \"My son, lead me to church,\" and before setting out he\ntutored him how he was to behave, seating himself at his side\nbefore the entrance, and particularly remarking every person who\nshould enter into the church.  \"Now, if you happen to see any one\nwho takes particular notice of me, and who either laughs or makes\nany sign, be sure you observe it and tell me.\"  The boy promised\nhe would; and they proceeded accordingly and took their station\nbefore the church\n\nWhen the dinner-hour arrived, the father and son prepared to\nleave the place, the former inquiring by the way whether his son\nhad observed any one looking hard at him as he passed along.\n\"That I did,\" answered the lad, \"but only one, and he laughed as\nhe went past us.  I do not know his name, but he is strongly\nmarked with the small-pox and lives somewhere near the Frati\nMinori.\"  \"Do you think, my dear lad,\" said his father, \"that you\ncould take me to his shop, and tell me when you see him there?\"\n\"To be sure I could,\" said the lad.  \"Then come, let us lose no\ntime,\" replied the father, \"and when we are there tell me, and\nwhile I speak to him you can step on one side and wait for me.\"\nSo the sharp little fellow led him along the way until he reached\na cheesemonger's stall, when he acquainted his father, and\nbrought him close to it.  No sooner did the blind man hear him\nspeaking with his customers than he recognised him for the same\nJuccio with whom he had formerly been acquainted during his days\nof light.  When the coast was a little clear, our blind hero\nentreated some moments' conversation, and Juccio, half suspecting\nthe occasion took him on one side into a little room, saying,\n\"Cola, friend, what good news?\"  \"Why,\" said Cola, \"I am come to\nconsult you, in great hopes you will be of use to me.  You know\nit is a long time since I lost my sight, and being in a destitute\ncondition, I was compelled to earn my subsistence by begging\nalms.  Now, by the grace of God, and with the help of you and of\nother good people of Orvieto, I have saved a sum of two hundred\nflorins, one hundred of which I have deposited in a safe place,\nand the other is in the hands of my relations, which I expect to\nreceive with interest in the course of a week.  Now if you would\nconsent to receive, and to employ for me to the best advantage,\nthe whole sum of two hundred florins it would be doing me a great\nkindness, for there is no one besides in all Orvieto in whom I\ndare to confide; nor do I like to be at the expense of paying a\nnotary for doing business which we can as well transact\nourselves.  Only I wish you would say nothing about it, but\nreceive the two hundred florins from me to employ as you think\nbest.  Say not a word about it, for there would be an end of my\ncalling were it known I had received so large a sum in alms.\"\nHere the blind mendicant stopped; and the sly Juccio, imagining\nhe might thus become master of the entire sum, said he should be\nvery happy to serve him in every way he could and would return an\nanswer the next morning as to the best way of laying out the\nmoney.  Cola then took his leave, while Juccio, going directly\nfor the purse, deposited it in its old place being in full\nexpectation of soon receiving it again with the addition of the\nother hundred, as it was clear that Cola had not yet missed the\nmoney.  The cunning old mendicant on his part expected that he\nwould do no less, and trusting that his plot might have\nsucceeded, he set out the very same day to the church, and had\nthe delight, on removing the tile, to find his purse really\nthere.  Seizing upon it with the utmost eagerness, he concealed\nit under his clothes, and placing the tiles exactly in the same\nposition, he hastened home whistling, troubling himself very\nlittle about his appointment of the next day.\n\nThe sly thief Juccio set out accordingly the next morning to see\nhis friend Cola, and actually met him on the road.  \"Whither are\nyou going?\" inquired Juccio.  \"I was going,\" said Cola, \"to your\nhouse.\"  The former, then taking the blind man aside, said, \"I am\nresolved to do what you ask; and since you are pleased to confide\nin me, I will tell you of a plan that I have in hand for laying\nout your money to advantage.  If you will put the two hundred\nflorins into my possession, I will make a purchase in cheese and\nsalt meat, a speculation which cannot fail to turn to good\naccount.\"  \"Thank you,\" quoth Cola, \"I am going to-day for the\nother hundred, which I mean to bring, and when you have got them\nboth, you can do with them what you think proper.\"  Juccio said,\n\"Then let me have them soon, for I think I can secure this\nbargain; and as the soldiers are come into the town, who are fond\nof these articles, I think it cannot fail to answer; so go, and\nHeaven speed you.\"  And Cola went; but with very different\nintentions from those imagined by his friend--Cola being now\nclear-sighted, and Juccio truly blind.  The next day Cola called\non his friend with very downcast and melancholy looks, and when\nJuccio bade him good day, he said, \"I wish from my soul it were a\ngood, or even a middling, day for me.\"  \"Why, what is the\nmatter?\"  \"The matter?\" echoed Cola; \"why, it is all over with\nme: some rascal has stolen a hundred florins from the place where\nthey were hidden, and I cannot recover a penny from my relations,\nso that I may eat my fingers off or anything I have to expect.\"\nJuccio replied, \"This is like all the rest of my speculations.  I\nhave invariably lost where I expected to make a good hit.  What I\nshall do I know not; for if the person should choose to keep me\nto the agreement I made for you, I shall be in a pretty dilemma\nindeed.\"  \"Yet,\" said Cola, \"I think my condition is still worse\nthan yours.  I shall be sadly distressed and shall have to amass\na fresh capital, which will take me ever so long. And when I have\ngot it, I will take care not to conceal it in a hole in the\nfloor, or trust it, Juccio, into any friend's hands.\"  \"But,\"\nsaid Juccio, \"if we could contrive to recover what is owing by\nyour relations, we might still make some pretty profit of it, I\ndoubt not.\"  For he thought, if he could only get hold of the\nhundred he had returned it would still be something in his way.\n\"Why,\" said Cola, \"to tell the truth, if I were to proceed\nagainst my relations I believe I might get it; but such a thing\nwould ruin my business, my dear Juccio, for ever:  the world\nwould know I was worth money, and I should get no more money from\nthe world; so I fear I shall hardly be able to profit by your\nkindness, though I shall always consider myself as much obliged\nas if I had actually cleared a large sum.  Moreover, I am going\nto teach another blind man my profession, and if we have luck you\nshall see me again, and we can venture a speculation together.\"\nSo far the wily mendicant, to whom Juccio said, \"Well, go and try\nto get money soon, and bring it; you know where to find me, but\nlook sharp about you and the Lord speed you; farewell.\"\n\"Farewell,\" said Cola; \"and I am well rid of thee,\" he whispered\nto himself, and going upon his way, in a short time he doubled\nhis capital; but he no longer went near his friend Juccio to know\nhow he should invest it.  He had great diversion in telling the\nstory to his companions during their feasts, always concluding,\n\"By St. Lucia! Juccio is the blinder man of the two:  he thought\nit was a bold stroke to risk his hundred to double the amount.\"\n\nFor my own part, I think the blind must possess a more acute\nintellect than other people, inasmuch as the light, exhibiting\nsuch a variety of objects to view, is apt to distract the\nattention, of which many examples might be adduced.  For\ninstance, two gentlemen may be conversing together on some matter\nof business, and in the middle of a sentence a fine woman happens\nto pass by, and they will suddenly stop, gazing after her; or a\nfine equipage or any other object is enough to turn the current\nof their thoughts.  And then we are obliged to recollect\nourselves, saying, \"Where was I?\" \"What was it that I was\nobserving?\"--a thing which never occurs to a blind man. The\nphilosopher Democritus very properly on this account knocked his\neyes out in order to catch objects in a juster light with his\nmind's eye.\n\nIt is impossible to describe Juccio's vexation on going to church\nand finding the florins were gone.  His regret was far greater\nthan if he had actually lost a hundred of his own; as is known to\nbe the case with all inveterate rogues, half of whose pleasure\nconsists in depriving others of their lawful property.\n\nThere are many analogous stories, one of which is the well-known\ntale of the merchant who, before going on a journey, deposited\nwith a dervish 1,000 sequins, which he thought it prudent to\nreserve in case of accidents. When he returned and requested his\ndeposit, the dervish flatly denied that he ever had any of his\nmoney.  Upon this the merchant went and laid his case before the\nkazi, who advised him to return to the dervish and speak\npleasantly to him, which he does, but receives nothing but abuse.\nHe informed the kazi of this, and was told not to go near the\ndervish for the present, but to be at ease for he should have his\nmoney next day.  The kazi then sent for the dervish, and after\nentertaining him sumptuously, told him that, for certain reasons,\nhe was desirous of removing a considerable sum of money from his\nhouse; that he knew of no person in whom he could confide so much\nas himself; and that if he would come the following evening at a\nlate hour, he should have the precious deposit.  On hearing this,\nthe dervish expressed his gratification that so much confidence\nshould be placed in his integrity, and agreed to take charge of\nthe treasure.  Next day the merchant returned to the kazi, who\nbade him go back to the dervish and demand his money once more,\nand should he refuse, threaten to complain to the kazi.  The\nresult may be readily guessed: no sooner did the merchant mention\nthe kazi than the rascally dervish said, \"My good friend, what\nneed is there to complain to the kazi?  Here is your money; it\nwas only a little joke on my part.\"  But in the evening, when he\nwent to receive the kazi's pretended deposit, he experienced the\ntruth of the saw, that \"covetousness sews up the eyes of\ncunning.\"\n\nA variant of this is found in the continental \"Gesta Romanorum\" (ch.\ncxviii. of Swan's translation), in which a knight deposits ten\ntalents with a respectable old man, who when called upon to\nrefund the money denies all knowledge of it.  By the advice of an\nold woman the knight has ten chests made, and employs a person to\ntake them to the old man and represent them as containing\ntreasure; and while one of them is being carried into his house\nthe knight enters and in the stranger's presence demands his\nmoney, which is at once delivered to him.\n\nIn Mr. Edward Rehatsek's translated selections from the Persian\nstory-book \"Shamsa \ufffd Kuhkuha\" (see ante, p. 329), printed at\nBombay in 1871, under the title of \"Amusing Stories,\" there is a\ntale (No. xviii.) which also bears some resemblance to that of\nthe Melancholist and the Sharper; and as Mr. Rehatsek's little\nwork is exceedingly scarce, I give it in extenso as follows:\n\nThere was in Damascus a man of the name of Zayn el-Arab, with the\nhoney of whose life the poison of hardships was always mixed.\nDay and night he hastened like the breeze from north to south in\nthe world of exertion, and he was burning brightly like straw,\nfrom his endeavours in the oven of acquisition in order to gain a\nloaf of bread and feed his family.  In course of time, however,\nhe succeeded in accumulating a considerable sum of money, but as\nhe had tasted the bitter poison of destitution, and had for a\nvery long time carried the heavy load of poverty upon his back,\nand fearing to lose his property by the chameleon-like changes of\nfortune, he took up his money on a certain night, carried it out\nof the city, and buried it under a tree.  After some time had\npassed be began sorely to miss the presence of his treasure, and\nbetook himself to the tree to refresh his eyes with the sight of\nit.  But when he dug up the ground at the foot of the tree he\ndiscovered that his soul-exhilarating deposit was refreshing the\npalate of some one else.  The morning of his prosperity was\nsuddenly changed into the evening of bitterness and\ndisappointment.  He was perplexed to what friend to confide his\nsecret, and to what remedy to fly for the recovery of his\ntreasure.  The lancet of grief had pierced the liver of his\npeace, and the huntsman of distress had tied up the wings and\nfeet of the bird of his serenity.  One day he went on some\nbusiness to a learned and wise man of the city with whom he was\non a footing of intimacy.  This man said to him, \"It is some time\nsince I perceived the glade of your circumstances to have been\ndestroyed by the burning coals of restlessness, and a sad change\nto have taken place in your health.  I do not know the reason,\nnor what thorn of misfortune has pierced the foot of your heart,\nnor what hardship has dawned from the east of your mind.\"  Zayn\nel-Arab wept tears of sadness and said, \"O thou standard coin\nfrom the mint of love! the treachery of misfortune has brought a\nstrange accident upon me, and the bow of destiny has let fly an\nunpropitious arrow upon my feeble target.  I have a heavy heart\nand great sorrow, and were I to reveal it to you perhaps it would\nbe of no use and would plunge you also into grief.\"  The learned\nman said, \"Since the hearts of intimate friends are like looking-\nglasses and are receiving the figures of mutual secrets, it is at\nall times necessary that they should communicate to each other\nany difficulties which they have fallen into, that they may\nremove them by taking in common those steps which prudence and\nforesight should recommend.\"  Zayn el-Arab replied, \"Dear friend,\nI had some gold, and fearing lest it should be stolen, I carried\nit to such and such a place and buried it under a tree, and when\nI again visited the place, I perceived the garment of my beloved\nJoseph to be sprinkled with the blood of the wolf of deception.\"\nThe learned man said, \"This is a grave accident, and it will be\ndifficult to get on the track of your gold.  Perhaps some one saw\nyou bury it:  he who has taken it will have to give an account of\nit in the next world, for God is omniscient.  Give me ten days'\ndelay, that I may study the book of expedients and stratagems,\nwhen mayhap somewhat will occur to me.\"\n\nThat knowing man sat down for ten days in the school of\nmeditation, and how much so ever he turned over the leaves of the\nvolume of his mind from the preface to the epilogue, he could hit\nupon no plan.  On the tenth day they again met in the street, and\nhe said to Zayn el-Arab, \"Although the diver of my mind has\nplunged deeply and searched diligently in this deep sea, he has\nbeen unable to seize the precious pearl of a wise plan of\noperation:  may God recompense you from the stores of His hidden\ntreasury!\"  They were conversing in this way when a lunatic met\nthem and said, \"Well, my boys, what secret- mongering have you\ngot between you?\"  The learned man said to Zayn el-Arab, \"Come,\nlet us relate our case to this crazy fellow, to see the flower of\nthe plant that may bloom from his mind.\"  Zayn el-Arab replied,\n\"Dear friend, you, with all your knowledge, cannot devise\nanything during ten days:  what information are we likely to gain\nfrom a poor lunatic who does not know whether it is now day or\nnight?\"  The learned man said, \"There is no telling what he may\nsay to us. But you know that the most foolish as well as the most\nwise have ideas, and a sentence uttered at random has sometimes\nfurnished a clue by which the desired object may be attained.\"\nMeanwhile a little boy also came up, and perceiving the lunatic\nstopped to see his tricks.  The two friends explained their case\nto the lunatic, who then seemed immersed in thought for some\ntime, after which he said, \"He who took the root of that tree for\na medicine also took the gold,\" and having thus spoken, he turned\nhis back upon them and went his way.  They consulted with each\nother what indication this remark might furnish, when the little\nboy who had overheard the conversation, asked what kind of tree\nit was.  Zayn el-Arab replied that it was a jujube tree.  The boy\nsaid, \"This is an easy matter: you ought to inquire of all the\ndoctors of this town for whom a medicine has been prescribed of\nthe roots of this tree.\"  They greatly admired the boy's\nacuteness and also of the lunatic's lucky thought.[FN#511]  The\nlearned man was well acquainted with all the physicians of the\ncity and made his enquiries, till he met with one who informed\nhim that about twenty days ago he had prescribed for a merchant\nof the name of Khoja Semender, who suffered from asthma, and that\none of the remedies was the root of that jujube tree.  The\nlearned man soon discovered the merchant's house, found him\nenjoying excellent health, and said to him, \"Ah, Khoja, all the\ngoods of this world ought to be surrendered to procure health.\nBy the blessing of God, you have recovered your health, and you\nought to give up what you found at the root of that tree, because\nthe owner of it is a worthy man and possesses nothing else.\"  The\nhonest merchant answered, \"It is true, I have found it, and it is\nwith me.  If you will describe it I will deliver it into your\nhands.\"  The exact sum being stated, the merchant at once\ndelivered up the gold.\n\nIn the \"Kath\ufffd Sarit S\ufffdgara,\" Book vi. ch. 33, we have probably\nthe original of this last story:  A wealthy merchant provided a\nBr\ufffdhman with a lodging near his own house, and every day gave him\na large quantity of unhusked rice and other presents and in\ncourse of time he received like gifts from other great merchants.\nIn this way the miserly fellow gradually accumulated a thousand\nd\ufffdn\ufffdrs, and going into the forest he dug a hole and buried it in\nthe ground, and he went daily to carefully examine the spot.  One\nday, however, he discovered that his hoard had been stolen, and\nhe went to his friend the merchant near whose house he lived,\nand, weeping bitterly, told him of his loss, and that he had\nresolved to go to a holy bathing-place and there starve himself\nto death.  The merchant tried to console him and dissuade him\nfrom his resolution, saying, \"Br\ufffdhman, why do you long to die for\nthe loss of your wealth?  Wealth, like an unseasonable cloud,\nsuddenly comes and goes.\"  But the Br\ufffdhman would not abandon his\nfixed determination to commit suicide, for wealth is dearer to\nthe miser than life itself.  When he was about to depart for the\nholy place, the king, having heard of it, came and asked him,\n\"Br\ufffdhman, do you know of any mark by which you can distinguish\nthe place where you buried your d\ufffdn\ufffdrs?\"  He replied, \"There is a\nsmall tree in the wood, at the foot of which I buried that\nmoney.\"  Then said the king, \"I will find the money and give it\nback to you, or I will give it you from my own treasury;--do not\ncommit suicide, Br\ufffdhman.\"\n\nWhen the king returned to his palace, he pretended to have a\nheadache, and summoned all the physicians in the city by\nproclamation with beat of drum.  And he took aside every one of\nthem singly and questioned them privately, saying, \"What patients\nhave you, and what medicines have you prescribed for each?\"  And\nthey thereupon, one by one, answered the king's questions.  At\nlength a physician said, \"The merchant M\ufffdtridatta has been out of\nsorts, O king, and this is the second day I have prescribed for\nhim n\ufffdgabal\ufffd (the plant Uraria Lagopodioides).\"  Then the king\nsent for the merchant, and said to him, \"Tell me, who fetched you\nthe n\ufffdgabal\ufffd?\" The merchant replied, \"My servant, your highness.\"\nOn hearing this, the king at once summoned the servant and said\nto him, \"Give up that treasure belonging to a Br\ufffdhman, consisting\nof a store of d\ufffdn\ufffdrs, which you found when you were digging at\nthe foot of the tree for n\ufffdgabal\ufffd.\"  When the king said this to\nhim the servant was frightened, and confessed immediately; and\nbringing the money left it there.  Then the king summoned the\nBr\ufffdhman and gave him, who had been fasting meanwhile, the d\ufffdn\ufffdrs,\nlost and found again, like a second soul external to his body.\nThus did the king by his wisdom recover to the Br\ufffdhman his wealth\nwhich had been taken away from the root of the tree, knowing that\nthat simple grew in such spots.\n\n\n\n\nTALE OF THE DEVOUT WOMAN ACCUSED OF LEWDNESS.--Vol. XI. p. 270.\n\n\n\nThis is one of three Arabian variants of Chaucer's Man of Law's Tale (the Story of Constance), of which there are numerous versions--see my paper entitled \"The Innocent Persecuted Wife,\" pp. 365-414 of \"Originals and Analogues of some of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE WEAVER WHO BECAME A LEACH BY ORDER OF HIS WIFE.--Vol. XI. p. 282.\n\n\n\nSomewhat resembling this, but much more elaborate, is the amusing\nstory of Ahmed the Cobbler, in Sir John Malcolm's \"Sketches of\nPersia,\" ch. xx., the original of which is probably found in the\ntale of Harisarman, book vi. ch. 30, of the \"Kath\ufffd Sarit S\ufffdgara,\"\nand it has many European variants, such as the German story of\nDoctor Allwissend, in Grimm's collection, and that of the\nCharcoal Burner in Sir George Dasent's \"Tales from the Fjeld.--\nAccording to the Persian story, Ahmed the Cobbler had a young and\npretty wife, of whom he was very fond. She was ever forming grand\nschemes of riches and splendour, and was firmly persuaded that\nshe was destined to great fortune. It happened one evening, while\nin this frame of mind, that she went to the public baths, where\nshe saw a lady retiring dressed in a magnificent robe, covered\nwith jewels, and surrounded by slaves. This was the very\ncondition she had always longed for, and she eagerly inquired the\nname of the happy person who had so many attendants and such fine\njewels. She learned it was the wife of the chief astrologer to\nthe king. With this information she returned home. Ahmed met her\nat the door, but was received with a frown, nor could all his\ncaresses obtain a smile or a word; for several hours she\ncontinued silent, and in apparent misery; at length she said,\n\"Cease your caresses, unless you are ready to give me a proof\nthat you do really and sincerely love me.\" \"What proof of love,\"\nexclaimed poor Ahmed, \"can you desire that I will not give?\"\n\"Give over cobbling, it is a vile, low trade, and never yields\nmore than ten or twelve d\ufffdn\ufffdrs a day. Turn astrologer; your\nfortune will be made, and I shall have all I wish and be happy.\"\n\"Astrologer!\" cried Ahmed--\"astrologer! Have you forgotten who I\nam--a cobbler, without any learning--that you want me to engage\nin a profession which requires so much skill and knowledge?\" \"I\nneither think nor care about your qualifications,\" said the\nenraged wife; \"all I know is that if you do not turn astrologer\nimmediately, I will be divorced from you to-morrow.\" The cobbler\nremonstrated, but in vain. The figure of the astrologer's wife,\nwith her jewels and her slaves, took complete possession of her\nimagination. All night it haunted her: she dreamt of nothing\nelse, and on awakening declared that she would leave the house if\nher husband did not comply with her wishes. What could poor Ahmed\ndo? He was no astrologer; but he was dotingly fond of his wife,\nand he could not bear the idea of losing her. He promised to\nobey, and having sold his little stock, bought an astrolabe, an\nastronomical almanac, and a table of the twelve signs of the\nzodiac. Furnished with these, he went to the market-place, crying,\n\"I am an astrologer! I know the sun, and the moon, and the stars,\nand the twelve signs of the zodiac; I can calculate nativities; I\ncan foretell everything that is to happen.\" No man was better\nknown than Ahmed the Cobbler. A crowd soon gathered round him.\n\"What, friend Ahmed,\" said one, \"have you worked till your head\nis turned?\" \"Are you tired of looking down at your last,\" cried\nanother, \"that you are now looking up at the stars?\" These and a\nthousand other jokes assailed the ears of the poor cobbler, who\nnotwithstanding continued to exclaim that he was an astrologer,\nhaving resolved on doing what he could to please his beautiful\nwife.\n\nIt so happened that the king's jeweller was passing by. He was in\ngreat distress, having lost the richest ruby belonging to the\nking. Every search had been made to recover this inestimable\njewel, but to no purpose; and as the jeweller knew he could no\nlonger conceal its loss from the king, he looked forward to death\nas inevitable. In this hopeless state, while wandering about the\ntown, he reached the crowd around Ahmed, and asked what was the\nmatter. \"Don't you know Ahmed the Cobbler?\" said one of the\nbystanders, laughing. \"He has been inspired and is become an\nastrologer.\" A drowning man will catch at a broken reed: the\njeweller no sooner heard the sound of the word astrologer than he\nwent up to Ahmed, told him what had happened, and said, \"If you\nunderstand your art, you must be able to discover the king's\nruby. Do so, and I will give you two hundred pieces of gold. But\nif you do not succeed within six hours, I will use my influence\nat court to have you put to death as an impostor.\" Poor Ahmed was\nthunderstruck. He stood long without being able to speak,\nreflecting on his misfortunes, and grieving, above all, that his\nwife, whom he so loved, had, by her envy and selfishness, brought\nhim to such a fearful alternative. Full of these sad thoughts, he\nexclaimed aloud, \"O woman! woman! thou art more baneful to the\nhappiness of man than the poisonous dragon of the desert!\" Now\nthe lost ruby had been secreted by the jeweller's wife, who,\ndisquieted by those alarms which ever attend guilt, sent one of\nher female slaves to watch her husband. This slave, on seeing her\nmaster speak to the astrologer, drew near; and when she heard\nAhmed, after some moments of abstraction, compare a woman to a\npoisonous dragon, she was satisfied that he must know everything.\nShe ran to her mistress, and, breathless with fear, cried, \"You\nare discovered by a vile astrologer! Before six hours are past\nthe whole story will be known, and you will become infamous, if\nyou are even so fortunate as to escape with life, unless you can\nfind some way of prevailing on him to be merciful.\" She then\nrelated what she had seen and heard; and Ahmed's exclamation\ncarried as complete conviction to the mind of the terrified lady\nas it had done to that of her slave. The jeweller's wife hastily\nthrowing on her veil, went in search of the dreaded astrologer.\nWhen she found him, she cried, \"Spare my honour and my life, and\nI will confess everything.\" \"What can you have to confess to me?\"\nsaid Ahmed, in amazement. \"O nothing--nothing with which you are\nnot already acquainted. You know too well that I stole the king's\nruby. I did so to punish my husband, who uses me most cruelly;\nand I thought by this means to obtain riches for myself and have\nhim put to death. But you, most wonderful man, from whom nothing\nis hidden, have discovered and defeated my wicked plan. I beg\nonly for mercy, and will do whatever you command me.\" An angel\nfrom heaven could not have brought more consolation to Ahmed than\ndid the jeweller's wife. He assumed all the dignified solemnity\nthat became his new character, and said, \"Woman! I know all thou\nhast done, and it is fortunate for thee that thou hast come to\nconfess thy sin and beg for mercy before it was too late. Return\nto thy house; put the ruby under the pillow of the couch on which\nthy husband sleeps; let it be laid on the side farthest from the\ndoor; and be satisfied thy guilt shall never be even suspected.\"\nThe jeweller's wife went home and did as she was instructed. In\nan hour Ahmed followed her, and told the jeweller he had made his\ncalculations, and found by the aspect of the sun and moon, and by\nthe configuration of the stars, that the ruby was at that moment\nlying under the pillow of his couch on the side farthest from the\ndoor. The jeweller thought Ahmed must be crazy; but as a ray of\nhope is like a ray from heaven to the wretched, he ran to his\ncouch, and there, to his joy and wonder, found the ruby in the\nvery place described. He came back to Ahmed, embraced him, called\nhim his dearest friend and the preserver of his life, gave him\ntwo hundred pieces of gold, declaring that he was the first\nastrologer of the age.\n\nAhmed returned home with his lucky gains, and would gladly have\nresumed his cobbling but his wife insisting on his continuing to\npractice his new profession, there was no help but to go out\nagain next day and proclaim his astrological accomplishments. By\nmere chance he is the means of a lady recovering a valuable\nnecklace which she had lost at the bath, and forty chests of gold\nstolen from the king's treasury, and is finally rewarded with the\nhand of the king's daughter in marriage.\n\n\n\n\nSTORY OF THE KING WHO LOST KINGDOM, WIFE AND WEALTH.--Vol. XI. p. 319.\n\n\n\nIn the \"Indian Antiquary\" for June 1886 the Rev. J. Hinton\nKnowles gives a translation of what he terms a Kashm\ufffdr\ufffd Tale,\nunder the title of \"Pride Abased,\" which, he says, was told him\nby \"a Brahman named Mukund B\ufffdy\ufffd, who resides at Suth\ufffd, Sr\ufffdnagar,\"\nand which is an interesting variant of the Waz\ufffdr Er-Rahwan's\nsecond story of the King who lost his Realm and Wealth:\n\n\n                   KASHMIRI VERSION.[FN#512]\n\nThere was once a king who was noted throughout his dominions for\ndaily boasting of his power and riches. His ministers at length\nbecame weary of this self-glorification, and one day when he\ndemanded of them, as usual, whether there existed in the whole\nworld another king as powerful as he, they plainly told him that\nthere was such another potentate; upon which he assembled his\ntroops and rode forth at their head, challenging the neighbouring\nkings to fight with him. Ere long he met with more than his\nmatch, for another king came with a great army and utterly\ndefeated him, and took possession of his kingdom. Disguising\nhimself, the humbled king escaped with his wife and two boys, and\narriving at the sea shore, found a ship about to sail. The master\nagreed to take him and his family and land them at the port for\nwhich he was bound. But when he beheld the beauty of the queen,\nhe became enamoured of her, and determined to make her his own.\nThe queen was the first to go on board the ship, and the king and\nhis two sons were about to follow, when they were seized by a\nparty of ruffians, hired by the shipmaster, and held back until\nthe vessel had got fairly under way. The queen was distracted on\nseeing her husband and children left behind, and refused to\nlisten to the master's suit, who, after having tried to win her\nlove for several days without success, resolved to sell her as a\nslave. Among the passengers was a merchant, who, seeing that the\nlady would not accept the shipmaster for her husband, thought\nthat if he bought her, he might in time gain her affection.\nAccordingly he purchased her of the master for a large sum of\nmoney, and then told her that he had done so with a view of\nmaking her his wife. The lady replied that, although the shipman\nhad no right thus to dispose of her, yet she would consent to\nmarry him at the end of two years, if she did not during that\nperiod meet with her husband and their two sons; and to this\ncondition the merchant agreed. In the meanwhile the king, having\nsorrowfully watched the vessel till it was out of sight, turned\nback with his two boys, who wept and lamented as they ran beside\nhim. After walking a great distance, he came to a shallow but\nrapid river, which he wished to cross, and, as there was no boat\nor bridge, he was obliged to wade through the water. Taking up\none of his sons he contrived to reach the other side in safety,\nand was returning for the other when the force of the current\novercame him and he was drowned.\n\nWhen the two boys noticed that their father had perished, they\nwept bitterly. Their separation, too, was a further cause for\ngrief. There they stood, one on either side of the river, with no\nmeans of reaching each other. They shouted, and ran about hither\nand thither in their grief, till they had almost wearied\nthemselves into sleep, when a fisherman came past, who, seeing\nthe great distress of the boys, took them into his boat, and\nasked them who they were, and who were their parents; and they\ntold him all that had happened. When he had heard their story, he\nsaid, \"You have not a father or mother, and I have not a child.\nEvidently God has sent you to me. Will you be my own children and\nlearn to fish, and live in my house?\" Of course, the poor boys\nwere only too glad to find a friend and shelter. \"Come,\" said the\nfisherman kindly, leading them out of the boat to a house close\nby, \"I will look after you.\" The boys followed most happily, and\nwent into the fisherman's house, and when they saw his wife they\nwere still better pleased, for she was very kind to them, and\ntreated them as if they had been her own children. The two boys\nwent to school, and when they had learned all that the master\ncould teach them, they began to help their adoptive father, and\nin a little while became most expert and diligent young\nfishermen.\n\nThus time was passing with them, when it happened that a great\nfish threw itself on to the bank of the river and could not get\nback again into the water. Everybody in the village went to see\nthe monstrous fish, and cut a slice of its flesh and took it\nhome. A few people also went from the neighbouring villages, and\namongst them was a maker of earthernware. His wife had heard of\nthe great fish and urged him to go and get some of the flesh. So\nhe went, although the hour was late. On his arrival he found that\nall the people had returned to their homes. The potter had taken\nan axe with him, thinking that the bones would be so great and\nstrong as to require its use in breaking them. When he struck the\nfirst blow a voice came out of the fish, like that of some one in\npain, at which the potter was greatly surprised. \"Perhaps,\"\nthought he, \"the fish is possessed by a bh\ufffdt.[FN#513] I'll try\nagain,\" whereupon he struck another blow with his axe. Again the\nvoice came forth from the fish, saying, \"Woe is me! woe is me!\"\nOn hearing this, the potter thought, \"Well, this is evidently not\na bh\ufffdt, but the voice of an ordinary man. I'll cut the flesh\ncarefully.  May be that I shall find some poor distressed\nperson.\" So he began to cut away the flesh carefully, and\npresently he perceived a man's foot, then the legs appeared, and\nthen the entire body. \"Praise be to God,\" he cried, \"the soul is\nyet in him.\" He carried the man to his house as fast as he could,\nand on arriving there did everything in his power to recover him.\nA large fire was soon got ready, and tea and soup given the man,\nand great was the joy of the potter and his wife when they saw\nhim reviving.[FN#514] For some months the stranger lived with\nthose good people, and learnt how to make pots and pans and other\narticles and thereby helped them considerably. Now it happened\nthat the king of that country died and it was the custom of the\npeople to take for their sovereign whomsoever the late king's\nelephant and hawk should select. And so on the death of the king\nthe royal elephant was driven all over the country, and the hawk\nwas made to fly about, in search of a successor and it came to\npass that the person before whom the elephant saluted and on whom\nthe hawk alighted was considered as the divinely-chosen one.\nAccordingly the elephant and the hawk went about the country, and\nin the course of their wanderings came by the house of the potter\nwho had so kindly succoured the poor man whom he found in the\nbelly of the monstrous fish; and it chanced that as they passed\nthe place the stranger was standing by the door, and behold, no\nsooner did the elephant and hawk see him than the one bowed down\nbefore him and the other perched on his hand. \"Let him be king!\nlet him be king!\" shouted the people who were in attendance on\nthe elephant, and they prostrated themselves before the stranger\nand begged him to accompany them to the palace.[FN#515]\n\nThe ministers were glad when they heard the news, and most\nrespectfully welcomed their new king. As soon as the rites and\nceremonies necessary for the installation of a king had been\nobserved, his majesty entered on his duties. The first thing he\ndid was to send for the potter and his wife and grant them some\nland and money. In this and other ways, such as just judgments,\nproper laws, and kindly notices of all who were clever and good,\nhe won for himself the good opinion and affection of his subjects\nand prospered in consequence thereof. After a few months,\nhowever, his health was impaired, and his physicians advised him\nto take out-door exercise. Accordingly, he alternately rode,\nhunted and fished. He was especially fond of fishing, and\nwhenever he indulged in this amusement, he was attended by two\nsons of a fisherman, who were clever and handsome youths.\n\nAbout this time the merchant who bought the wife of the poor king\nthat was carried away by the rapid river visited that country for\npurposes of trade. He obtained an interview with the king, and\ndisplayed before him all his precious stones and stuffs. The king\nwas much pleased to see such treasures, and asked many questions\nabout them and the countries whence they had been brought. The\nmerchant satisfied the king's curiosity, and then begged\npermission to trade in that country, under his majesty's\nprotection, which the king readily granted, and ordered that some\nsoldiers should be placed on guard in the merchant's courtyard,\nand sent the fisherman's two sons to sleep in the premises.\n\nOne night those two youths not being able to sleep, the younger\nasked his brother to tell him a story to pass the time, so he\nreplied, \"I will tell you one out of our own experience: Once\nupon a time there lived a great and wealthy king, who was very\nproud, and his pride led him to utter ruin and caused him the\nsorest afflictions.. One day when going about with his army,\nchallenging other kings to fight with him, a great and powerful\nking appeared and conquered him. He escaped with his wife and two\nsons to the sea, hoping to find a vessel, by which he and his\nfamily might reach a foreign land. After walking several miles\nthey reached the sea-shore and found a ship ready to sail. The\nmaster of the vessel took the queen, but the king and his two\nsons were held back by some men, who had been hired by the master\nfor this purpose, until the ship was under way. The poor king\nafter this walked long and far till he came to a rapid river. As\nthere was no bridge or boat near, he was obliged to wade across.\nHe took one of his boys and got over safely, and was returning\nfor the other when he stumbled over a stone, lost his footing,\nand was carried down the stream; and he has not been heard of\nsince. A fisherman came along, and, seeing the two boys crying,\ntook them into his boat, and afterwards to his house, and became\nvery fond of them, as did also his wife, and they were like\nfather and mother to them. All this happened a few years ago, and\nthe two boys are generally believed to be the fisherman's own\nsons. O brother, we are these two boys! And there you have my\nstory.\"\n\nThe tale was so interesting and its conclusion so wonderful that\nthe younger brother was more awake than before. It had also\nattracted the attention of another. The merchant's promised wife,\nwho happened to be lying awake at the time, and whose room was\nseparated from the warehouse by a very thin partition, overheard\nall that had been said, and she thought within herself, \"Surely\nthese two boys must be my own sons.\" Presently she was sitting\nbeside them and asking them many questions. Two years or more had\nmade great difference in the persons of both the boys, but there\nwere certain signs which a hundred years could not efface from a\nmother's memory. These, together with the answers which she\nelicited from them, assured her that she had found her own sons\nagain. Tears streamed down her face as she embraced them, and\nrevealed to them that she was the queen, their mother, about whom\nthey had just been speaking. She then told them all that had\nhappened to her since she had been parted from them and their\npoor father, the king; after which she explained that although\nthe merchant was a good man and very wealthy yet she did not like\nhim well enough to become his wife, and proposed a plan for her\ngetting rid of him. \"My device,\" said she, \"is to pretend to the\nmerchant that you attempted my honour. I shall affect to be very\nangry and not give him any peace until he goes to the king and\ncomplains against you. Then will the king send for you in great\nwrath and inquire into this matter. In reply you may say it is\nall a mistake, for you regard me as your own mother, and in proof\nof this you will beg the king to summon me into his presence,\nthat I may corroborate what you say. Then I will declare that you\nare really my own sons, and beseech the king to free me from the\nmerchant and allow me to live with you in any place I may choose\nfor the rest of my days.\"\n\nThe sons agreed to this proposal, and next night, when the\nmerchant was also sleeping in the house, the woman raised a great\ncry, so that everybody was awakened by the noise. The merchant\ncame and asked the cause of the outcry, and she answered, \"The\ntwo youths who look after your warehouse have attempted to\nviolate me, so I screamed in order to make them desist.\" On\nhearing this the merchant was enraged. He immediately bound the\ntwo youths, and, as soon as there was any chance of seeing the\nking, took them before him preferred his complaint. \"What have\nyou to say in your defence?\" said the king, addressing the\nyouths; \"because, if what this merchant charges against you be\ntrue, I will have you at once put to death. Is this the gratitude\nyou manifest for all my kindness and condescension towards you?\nSay quickly what you have to say.\" \"O king, our benefactor,\"\nreplied the elder brother, \"we are not affrighted by your words\nand looks, for we are true servants. We have not betrayed your\ntrust in us, but have always tried to fulfil your wishes to the\nutmost of our power. The charges brought against us by this\nmerchant are unfounded. We have not attempted to dishonour his\nwife; we have rather always regarded her as our own mother. May\nit please your majesty to send for the woman and inquire further\ninto this matter.\"\n\nThe king consented, and the woman was brought before him. \"Is it\ntrue,\" he asked her \"what the merchant, your affianced husband,\nwitnesses against these two youths?\" \"O king,\" she replied, \"the\nyouths whom you gave to help the merchant have most carefully\ntried to carry out your wishes. But the night before last I heard\ntheir conversation. The elder was telling the younger a tale,\nfrom his own experience, he said. It was a story of a conceited\nking who had been defeated by another more powerful than he, and\nobliged to fly with his wife and two children to the sea. There,\nthrough the vile trickery of the master of a vessel, the wife was\nstolen and taken away to far distant lands, where she became\nengaged to a wealthy trader; while the exiled king and his two\nsons wandered in another direction, till they came to a river, in\nwhich the king was drowned. The two boys were found by a\nfisherman and brought up as his own sons. These two boys, O king,\nare before you, and I am their mother, who was taken away and\nsold to the trader, and who after two days must be married to\nhim. For I promised that if within a certain period I should not\nmeet with my husband and two sons I would be his wife. But I\nentreat your majesty to free me from this man. I do not wish to\nmarry again, now that I have found my two sons. In order to\nobtain an audience of your majesty, this trick was arranged with\nthe two youths.\"\n\nBy the time the woman had finished her story the king's face was\nsuffused with tears and he was trembling visibly. When he had\nsomewhat recovered he rose from the throne and going up to the\nwoman and the two youths embraced them long and fervently. \"You\nare my own dear wife and children,\" he cried. \"God has sent you\nback to me. I, the king, your husband, your father, was not\ndrowned as you supposed; but was swallowed by a great fish and\nnourished by it for some time, and then the monster threw itself\nupon the river's bank and I was extricated. A potter and his wife\nhad pity on me and taught me their trade, and I was just\nbeginning to earn my living by making earthen vessels when the\nlate king of this country died, and I was chosen king by the\nroyal elephant and hawk--I who am now standing here.\" Then his\nmajesty ordered the queen and her two sons to be taken into the\ninner apartments of the palace, and explained his conduct to the\npeople assembled. The merchant was politely dismissed from the\ncountry. And as soon as the two princes were old enough to govern\nthe kingdom, the king committed to them the charge of all\naffairs, while he retired with his wife to a sequestered spot and\npassed the rest of his days in peace.\n\nThe tale of Sarwar and N\ufffdr, \"as told by a celebrated Bard from\nBaraut, in the Merath district,\" in vol. iii. of Captain R. C.\nTemple's \"Legends of the Panj\ufffdb\" (pp. 97-125), though differing in\nform somewhat from the Kashm\ufffdr\ufffd version, yet possesses the\nleading incidents in common with it, as will be seen from the\nfollowing abstract:\n\n                        PANJ\ufffdB\ufffd VERSION.\n\nAmb\ufffd the r\ufffdj\ufffd of P\ufffdn\ufffd had a beautiful wife named Aml\ufffd and two\nyoung sons, Sarwar and N\ufffdr. There came to his court one day a\nfak\ufffdr. The r\ufffdj\ufffd promised to give him whatsoever he should desire.\nThe fakir required Amb\ufffd to give up to him all he possessed, or\nlose his virtue, and the r\ufffdj\ufffd gave him all, save his wife and two\nchildren, receiving in return the blessings of the fak\ufffdr, Then\nthe r\ufffdj\ufffd and the r\ufffdn\ufffd went away; he carrying Sarwar in his bosom,\nand she with N\ufffdr in her lap. For a time they lived on the fruits\nand roots of the forest. At length the ran\ufffd gave her husband her\n(jewelled) bodice to sell in the bazar, in order to procure food.\nHe offered it to Kundan the merchant, who made him sit down, and\nasked him where he had left the ran\ufffd, and why he did not bring her\nwith him. Amb\ufffd told him that he had left her with their two boys\nunder the banyan-tree. Then Kundan, leaving Amb\ufffd in the shop,\nwent and got a litter, and proceeding to the banyan-tree showed\nthe r\ufffdn\ufffd the bodice, and said, \"Thy husband wishes thee to come\nto him.\" Nothing doubting, the r\ufffdn\ufffd entered the litter, and the\nmerchant sent it off to his own house. Leaving the boys in the\nforest, he returned to Amb\ufffd, and said to him that he had not\nenough money to pay the price of the bodice, so the r\ufffdj\ufffd must\ntake it back. Amb\ufffd took the bodice, and coming to the boys,\nlearned from Sarwar how their mother had been carried away in a\nlitter, and he was sorely grieved in his heart, but consoled the\nchildren, saying that their mother had gone to her brother's\nhouse, and that he would take them to her at once. Placing the\ntwo boys on his shoulders he walked along till he came to a\nriver. He set down N\ufffdr and carried Sarwar safely across, but as\nhe was going back for the other, behold, an alligator seized him.\nIt was the will of God: what remedy is there against the writing\nof Fate? The two boys, separated by the river, sat down and wept\nin their sorrow. In the early morning a washerman was up and\nspreading his clothes. He heard the two boys weeping and came to\nsee. He had pity on them and brought them together. Then he took\nthem to his house, and washed their faces and gave them food. He\nput them into a separate house and a Brahman cooked for them and\ngave them water.[FN#516] He caused the brothers to be taught all\nkinds of learning, and at the end of twelve years they both set\nout together to seek their living. They went to the city of\nUjjain, and told the r\ufffdj\ufffd their history--how they had left their\nhome and kingdom. The r\ufffdj\ufffd gave them arms and suitable clothing,\nand appointed them guards over the female apartments.[FN#517] One\nday a fisherman caught an alligator in his net. When he cut open\nits body, he found in it R\ufffdj\ufffd Amb\ufffd, alive.[FN#518] So he took him\nto the r\ufffdj\ufffd of Ujjain, and told how he had found him in the\nstomach of an alligator. Amb\ufffd related his whole history to the\nr\ufffdj\ufffd; how he gave up all his wealth and his kingdom to a fak\ufffdr;\nhow his wife had been stolen from him; and how after safely\ncarrying one of his young sons over the river in returning for\nthe other he had been swallowed by an alligator. On hearing of\nall these misfortunes the r\ufffdj\ufffd of Ujjain pitied him and loved him\nin his heart: he adopted Amb\ufffd as his son; and they lived together\ntwenty years, when the r\ufffdj\ufffd died and Amb\ufffd obtained the throne.\n\nMeanwhile the beautiful R\ufffdn\ufffd Aml\ufffd, the wife of Amb\ufffd, had\ncontinued to refuse the merchant Kundan's reiterated proffers of\nlove. At length he said to her, \"Many days have passed over thee,\nlive now in my house as my wife.\" And she replied, \"Let me bathe\nin the Ganges, and then I will dwell in thy house.\" So he took\nelephants and horses and lakhs of coin, and set the r\ufffdn\ufffd in a\nlitter and started on the journey. When he reached the city of\nUjjain, he made a halt and pitched his tents. Then he went before\nR\ufffdj\ufffd Amb\ufffd and said, \"Give me a guard, for the nights are dark.\nHitherto I have had much trouble and no ease at nights. I am\ngoing to bathe in the Ganges, to give alms and much food to\nBrahmans. I am come, r\ufffdj\ufffd, to salute thee, bringing many things\nfrom my house.\"\n\nThe r\ufffdj\ufffd sent Sarwar and N\ufffdr as guards. They watched the tents,\nand while the rain was falling the two brothers began talking\nover their sorrows, saying \"What can our mother be doing? Whither\nhath our father gone?\" Their mother overheard them talking, and\nby the will of God she recognised the princes; then she tore open\nthe tent, and cried aloud, \"All my property is gone! Who brought\nthis thief to my tent?\" The r\ufffdn\ufffd had both Sarwar and N\ufffdr seized,\nand brought before R\ufffdj\ufffd Amb\ufffd on the charge of having stolen her\nproperty. The r\ufffdj\ufffd held a court, and began to ask questions,\nsaying, \"Tell me what hath passed during the night. How much of\nthy property hath gone, my friend? I will do thee justice,\naccording to thy desire: my heart is grieved that thy goods are\ngone.\" Then said the ran\ufffd, \"Be careful of the young elephant! The\nlightning flashes and the heavy rain is falling. Said N\ufffdr, 'Hear,\nbrother Sarwar, who knows whither our mother hath gone?' And I\nrecognised my son; so I made all this disturbance, raja [in order\nto get access to thee]\". [FN#519] Hearing this, R\ufffdj\ufffd Amb\ufffd rose up\nand took her to his breast--Aml\ufffd and Amb\ufffd met again through the\nmercy of God. The r\ufffdj\ufffd gave orders to have Kundan hanged, saying,\n\"Do it at once; he is a scoundrel; undo him that he may not\nlive.\" They quickly fetched the executioners and put on the\nnoose; and then was Kundan strangled. The r\ufffdn\ufffd dwelt in the\npalace and all her troubles passed far away. She fulfilled all\nher obligations, and obtained great happiness through her virtue.\n\n\n                        TIBETAN VERSION.\n\nUnder the title of \"Krisa Gautami\" in the collection of \"Tibetan\nTales from Indian Sources,\" translated by Mr. Ralston from the\nGerman of Von Schiefner, we have what appears to be a very much\ngarbled form of an old Buddhist version of our story. The heroine\nis married to a young merchant, whose father gives him some\narable land in a hill district, where he resides with Krisa\nGuatami his wife.\n\nWhen the time came for her to expect her confinement, she\nobtained leave of her husband to go to her parents' house in\norder that she might have the attendance of her mother. After her\nconfinement and the naming of the boy, she returned home. When\nthe time of her second confinement drew near, she again expressed\nto her husband a desire to go to her parents. Her husband set out\nwith her and the boy in a waggon; but by the time they had gone\nhalf way she gave birth to a boy. When the husband saw that this\nwas to take place he got out of the waggon, sat under a tree, and\nfell asleep. While he was completely overcome by slumber a snake\nbit him and he died. When his wife in her turn alighted from the\nwaggon, and went up to the tree in order to bring him the joyful\ntidings that a son was born unto him, he, as he had given up the\nghost, made no reply. She seized him by the hand and found that\nhe was dead. Then she began to weep. Meantime a thief carried off\nthe oxen. After weeping for a long time, and becoming very\nmournful, she looked around on every side, pressed the new-born\nbabe to her bosom, took the elder child by the hand, and set out\non her way. As a heavy rain had unexpectedly fallen, all the\nlakes, ponds, and springs were full of water, and the road was\nflooded by the river. She reflected that if she were to cross the\nwater with both the children at once, she and they might meet\nwith a disaster, and therefore the children had better be taken\nover separately. So she seated the elder boy on the bank of the\nriver, and took the younger one in her arms, walked across to the\nother side and laid him down upon the bank. Then she went back\nfor the elder boy. But while she was in the middle of the river,\nthe younger boy was carried off by a jackal. The elder boy\nthought that his mother was calling him, and sprang into the\nwater. The bank was very steep, so he fell down and was killed.\nThe mother hastened after the jackal, who let the child drop and\nran off. When she looked at it, she found that it was dead. So\nafter she had wept over it, she threw it into the water. When she\nsaw that the elder was being carried along by the stream, she\nbecame still more distressed. She hastened after him, and found\nthat he was dead. Bereft of both husband and children, she gave\nway to despair, and sat down alone on the bank, with only the\nlower part of her body covered. There she listened to the howling\nof the wind, the roaring of the forest and of the waves, as well\nas the singing of various kinds of birds. Then wandering to and\nfro, with sobs and tears of woe, she lamented the loss of her\nhusband and her two children.\n\nShe meets with one of her father's domestics, who informs her\nthat her parents and their servants had all been destroyed by a\nhurricane, and that \"he only had escaped\" to tell her the sad\ntidings. After this she is married to a weaver, who ill-uses her,\nand she escapes from him one night. She attaches herself to some\ntravellers returning from a trading expedition in the north, and\nthe leader of the caravan takes her for his wife. The party are\nattacked by robbers and the leader is killed. She then becomes\nthe wife of the chief of the robbers, who in his turn finds death\nat the hands of the king of that country, and she is placed in\nhis zenana.\n\nThe king died, and she was buried alive in his tomb, after having\nhad great honour shown to her by the women, the princes, the\nministers, and a vast concourse of people. Some men from the\nnorth who were wont to rob graves broke into this one also. The\ndust they raised entered into Krisa Gautami's nostrils, and made\nher sneeze. The grave-robbers were terrified, thinking that she\nwas a demon (vet\ufffdla), and they fled; but Krisa Gautami escaped\nfrom the grave through the opening which they had made. Conscious\nof all her troubles, and affected by the want of food, just as a\nviolent storm arose, she went out of her mind. Covered with\nmerely her underclothing, her hands and feet foul and rough, with\nlong locks and pallid complexion, she wandered about until she\nreached Sravast\ufffd. There, at the sight of Bhagavant, she recovered\nher intellect. Bhagavant ordered Ananda to give her an overrobe,\nand he taught her the doctrine, and admitted her into the\necclesiastical body, and he appointed her the chief of the\nBhikshun\ufffds who had embraced discipline.[FN#520]\n\nThis remarkable story is one of those which reached Europe long\nanterior to the Crusades. It is found in the Greek martyr acts,\nwhich were probably composed in the eighth century, where it is\ntold of Saint Eustache, who was before his baptism a captain of\nTrajan, named Placidus, and the same legend reappears, with\nmodifications of the details, in many medi\ufffdval collections and\nforms the subject of several romances. In most versions the motif\nis similar to that of the story of Job. The following is the\noutline of the original legend, according to the Greek martyr\nacts:\n\n\n                    LEGEND OF ST. EUSTACHE.\n\nAs Placidus one day hunted in the forest, the Saviour appeared to\nhim between the antlers of a hart, and converted him. Placidus\nchanged his name into Eustache, when he was baptised with his\nwife and sons. God announced to him by an angel his future\nmartyrdom. Eustache was afflicted by dreadful calamities, lost\nall his estate, and was compelled to go abroad as a beggar with\nhis wife and his children. As he went on board a ship bound for\nEgypt, his wife was seized by the shipmaster and carried off.\nSoon after, when Eustache was travelling along the shore, his two\nchildren were borne off by a lion and a leopard. Eustache then\nworked for a long time as journeyman, till he was discovered by\nthe emperor Trajan, who had sent out messengers for him, and\ncalled him to court. Reappointed captain, Eustache undertook an\nexpedition against the Dacians. During this war he found his wife\nin a cottage as a gardener--the shipmaster had fallen dead to the\nground as he ventured to touch her--and in the same cottage he\nfound again his two sons as soldiers: herdsmen had rescued them\nfrom the wild beasts and brought them up. Glad was their meeting\nagain! But as they returned to Rome they were all burnt in a\nglowing bull of brass by the emperor's order, because they\nrefused to sacrifice to the heathen gods.[FN#521]\n\nThe story of Placidus, which forms chapter 110 of the continental\n\"Gesta Romanorum,\" presents few and unimportant variations from\nthe foregoing: Eustatius came to a river the water of which ran\nso high that it seemed hazardous to attempt to cross it with both\nthe children at the same time; one therefore he placed upon the\nbank, and then passed over with the other in his arms, and having\nlaid it on the ground, he returned for the other child. But in\nthe midst of the river, looking back, he beheld a wolf snatch up\nthe child he had just carried over and run with it into the\nadjoining wood. He turned to rescue it, but at that instant a\nhuge lion approached the other child and disappeared with it.\nAfter the loss of his two boys Eustatius journeyed on till he\ncame to a village, where he remained for fifteen years, tending\nsheep as a hired servant, when he was discovered by Trajan's\nmessengers, and so on.\n\nThe story is so differently told in one of the Early English\ntranslations of the \"Gesta Romanorum\" in the Harleian MSS. 7333\n(re-edited by Herrtage for the E.E.T. Soc., pp. 87-91) that it is\nworth while, for purposes of comparison, reproducing it here in\nfull:\n\n\n                  OLD ENGLISH \"GESTA\" VERSION.\n\nAverios was a wise emperour regnyng in the cite of Rome; and he\nlet crye a grete feste, and who so ever wold come to that feste,\nand gete victory in the tournement, he shuld have his doughter to\nwyf, after his decesse. So there was a doughti knyght, and hardy\nin armys, and specially in tournement, the which hadde a wyf, and\ntwo yong children, of age of thre yere; and when this knyght had\nherd this crye, in a clere morowenyng[FN#522] he entred in to a\nforest, and there he herd a nyghtingale syng upon a tre so\nswetly, that he herd never so swete a melody afore that tyme. The\nknyght sette him doun undre the tre, and seid to him self, \"Now,\nLord, if I myght knowe what this brid[FN#523] shold\nbemene!\"[FN#524] There come an old man, and seid to him, \"That\nthou shalt go within thes thre daies to the emperours feste, and\nthou shalt suffre grete persecution or thou come there; and if\nthou be constant, and pacient in all thi tribulacion, thy sorowe\nshal turne the[FN#525] to grete joy; and, ser, this is the\ninterpretacion of his song.\" When this was seid, the old man\nvanysshed, and the brid fly away. Tho[FN#526] the knyght had\ngrete merveill; he yede[FN#527] to his wif, and told her the\ncas.[FN#528] \"Ser.\" quod she, \"the will of God be fulfilled, but\nI counsell that we go to the feste of the emperour and that ye\nthynk on the victory in the tournement, by the which we may be\navaunced[FN#529] and holpen.\"[FN#530] When the knyght had made\nall thing redy, there come a grete fire in the nyght; and\nbrent[FN#531] up all his hous and all his goodis, for which he\nhad grete sorowe in hert; nevertheles, notwithstondyng all this,\nhe yede forthe toward the see, with his wife, and with his two\nchildryn; and there he hired a ship, to passe over. When thei\ncome to londe, the maister of the shippe asked of the knyght his\nhire for his passage, for him, and for his wif and for his two\nchildryn. \"Dere frend,\" said the knyght to him, \"dere freed,\nsuffre me, and thou shalt have all thyn, for I go now to the\nfeste of the emperour, where I trust to have the victory in\nturnement, and then thou shalt be wele ypaied.\" \"Nay, by the\nfeith that I owe to the emperour,\" quod that other, \"hit shal not\nbe so, for but if [FN#532] you pay now, I shal holde thi wif to\nwed,[FN#533] tyll tyme that I be paied fully my salary.\" And he\nseid that, for he desired the love of the lady. Tho the knyght\nprofren his two childryn to wed, so that he myght have his wif;\nand the shipman seid, \"Nay, such wordis beth[FN#534] vayn, for,\"\nquod he, \"or[FN#535] I wol have my mede, or els I wolle holde thi\nwif.\" So the knyght lefte his wif with him, and kyst her with\nbitter teris; and toke the two childryn, scil. oon on his arme,\nand that othir in his nek, and so he yede forth to the turnement.\nAftir, the maister of the shippe wolde have layn by the lady, but\nshe denyed hit, and seid, that she had lever dey[FN#536] than\nconsente therto. So within short tyme, the maister drew to a\nfer[FN#537] lond, and there he deied; and the lady beggid her\nbrede fro dore to dore, and knew not in what lond her husbond was\nduellinge. The knyght was gon toward the paleis, and at the last\nhe come by a depe water, that was impossible to be passid,\nbut[FN#538] hit were in certein tyme, when hit was at the lowist.\nThe knyght sette doun oo[FN#539] child, and bare the othir over\nthe water; and aftir that he come ayen[FN#540] to fecche over the\nothir, but or[FN#541] he myght come to him, there come a lion,\nand bare him awey to the forest. The knyght pursued aftir, but he\nmyght not come to the lion; and then he wept bitterly, and yede\nayen over the water to the othir child; and or he were ycome, a\nbere had take the child, and ran therwith to the forest. When the\nknyght saw that, sore he wepte, and seid, \"Alias! that ever I was\nbore, for now have I lost wif and childryn. O thou brid! thi song\nthat was so swete is yturned in to grete sorowe, and hath ytake\naway myrth fro my hert.\" Aftir this he turned toward the feste,\nand made him redy toward the turnement; and there he bare him so\nmanly, and so doutely in the turnement and that twies or thries,\nthat he wan the victory, and worship, and wynnyng of that day.\nFor the emperour hily avauncid him, and made him maister of his\noste,[FN#542] and commaundid that all shuld obey to him; and he\nencresid, and aros from day to day in honure and richesse. And he\nwent aftirward in a certain day in the cite, [and] he found a\nprecious stone, colourid with thre maner of colours, as in oo\npartie[FN#542] white, in an othir partie red, and in the thrid\npartie blak. Anon he went to a lapidary, that was expert in the\nvertue of stonys; and he seid, that the vertue of thilke[FN#544]\nstone was this, who so ever berith the stone upon him, his\nhevynesse[FN#545] shall turne in to joy; and if he be\npovere,[FN#546] he shal be made riche; and if he hath lost\nanything, he shall fynde hit ayen with grete joy. And when the\nknyght herd this, he was glad and blith, and thought in him self,\n\"I am in grete hevynesse and poverte, for I have lost all that I\nhad, and by this stone I shal recovere all ayen, whether hit be\nso or no, God wote!\" Aftir, when he must go to bataile of the\nemperour he gadrid togidre[FN#547] all the oste, and among them\nhe found two yong knyghtis, semely in harneis,[FN#548] and wele\ni-shape, the which he hired for to go with him yn bataill of the\nemperour. And when thei were in the bataill, there was not oon in\nall the batail that did so doutely,[FN#549] as did tho[FN#550]\ntwo knyghtis that he hired; and therof this knyght, maister of\nthe ost, was hily gladid. When the bataill was y-do,[FN#551]\nthes two yong knyghtes yede to her oste[FN#552] in the cite; and\nas they sat to-gidir, the elder seid to the yonger, \"Dere frend,\nhit is long sithen[FN#553] that we were felawys,[FN#554] and we\nhave grete grace of God, for in every batail we have the victory;\nand therfore I pray you, telle me of what contre ye were ybore,\nand in what nacion? For I askid never this of the or now; and if\nthou wilt telle me soth,[FN#555] I shall telle my kynrede and\nwhere I was borne.\" And when oo felawe spak thus to the othir, a\nfaire lady was loggid[FN#556] in the same ostry;[FN#557] and when\nshe herd the elder knyght speke, she herkened to him; but she\nknew neither of hem,[FN#558] and yit she was modir of both, and\nwyf of the maister of the oste,[FN#559] the which also the\nmaister of the shippe withheld for ship-hire, but ever God kept\nher fro synne. Then spake the yonger knyght, \"Forsoth, good man,\nI note[FN#560] who was my fader or who was my modir, ne[FN#561]\nin what stede[FN#562] I was borne; but I have this wele in mynde\nthat my fader was a knyght, and that he bare me over the water,\nand left my eldir brothir in the lond; and as he passid over ayen\nto fecche him, there come a lion, and toke me up, but a man of the\ncite come with houndis, and when he saw him, he made him to leve\nme with his houndis.\"[FN#563] \"Now sothly,\" quod that othir, \"and\nin the same maner hit happid vith me. For I was the sone of a\nknyght, and had only a brothir; and my fader brought me and my\nbrothir, and my modir, over the see toward the emperour; and for\nmy fader had not to pay to the maister of the ship for the\nfraught, he left my modir to wed; and then my fader toke me with\nmy yong brothir, and brought us on his bak, and in his armys,\ntyll that we come unto a water, and there left me in a side of\nthe water, and bare over my yong brothir; and or my fader myght\ncome to me ayene, to bare me over, ther come a bere, and bore me\nto wode;[FN#564] and the people that saw him, make grete cry, and\nfor fere the bere let me falle, and so with thelke[FN#565] poeple\nI duellid x. yere, and ther I was y-norisshed.\" When the modir\nherd thes wordis, she seid, \"Withoute doute thes ben my\nsonys,\" and ran to hem anon, and fil upon her[FN#566] nekkes, and\nwepte sore for joy, and seid, \"A! dere sonys, I am your modir,\nthat your fader left with the maister of the shippe; and I know\nwele by your wordis and signes that ye beth true brethern. But\nhow it is with your fader, that I know not, but God, that all\nseth,[FN#567] yeve[FN#568] me grace to fynd my husbond.\" And alle\nthat nyght thes thre were in gladnes. On the morow the modir\nrose up, and the childryn, scil. the knyghtis, folowid; and as\nthei yede, the maister of the oste mette with hem in the strete,\nand though he were her fader, he knew hem not, but[FN#569] as\nthei had manli fought the day afore; and therfor he salued hem\nhonurably, and askid of hem what feir lady that was, that come\nwith hem? Anon as his lady herd his voys, and perceyved a certeyn\nsigne in his frount,[FN#570] she knew fully therby that it was\nher husbond; and therfore she ran to him, and clypt him, and kyst\nhim, and for joy fille doun to the erth, as she had be ded. So\naftir this passion, she was reised up; and then the maister seid\nto her, \"Telle me, feir woman, whi thou clippest me, and kyssist\nme so?\" She seid, \"I am thi wif, that thou leftist with the\nmaister of the ship; and thes two knyghtis bene your sonys. Loke\nwele on my front, and see.\" Then the knyght byheld her wele, with\na good avisement,[FN#571] and knew wele by diverse tokyns that\nshe was his wif; and anon kyst her, and the sonys eke; and\nblessid hiely God, that so had visited hem. Tho went he ayen to\nhis fond, with his wif, and with his children, and endid faire\nhis lif.\n\nFrom the legend of St. Eustache the romances of Sir Isumbras,\nOctavian, Sir Eglamour of Artois, and Sir Torrent of Portugal are\nderived. In the last, while the hero is absent, aiding the king of\nNorway with his sword, his wife Desonelle is delivered of twins,\nand her father, King Calamond, out of his hatred of her, causes\nher and the babes to be put to sea in a boat; but a favourable\nwind saves them from destruction, and drives the boat upon the\ncoast of Palestine. As she is wandering aimlessly along the\nshore, a huge griffin appears, and seizes one of her children, and\nimmediately after a leopard drags away the other. With submission\nshe suffers her miserable fate, relying on the help of the Holy\nVirgin. The king of Jerusalem, just returning from a voyage,\nhappened to find the leopard with the child, which he ordered to\nbe saved and delivered to him. Seeing from the foundling's golden\nring that the child was of noble descent, and pitying its\nhelpless state, he took it into his palace, and brought him up as\nif he were his own son, at his court. The dragon with the other\nchild was seen by a pious hermit, St. Antony, who, though son of\nthe king of Greece, had in his youth forsaken the world. Through\nhis prayer St. Mary made the dragon put down the infant. Antony\ncarried him to his father, who adopted him and ordered him to be\nbaptised. Desonelle wandered up and down, after the loss of her\nchildren, till she happened to meet the king of Nazareth hunting.\nHe, recognising her as the king of Portugal's daughter, gave her\na kind welcome and assistance, and at his court she lived several\nyears in happy retirement. Ultimately she is re-united to her\nhusband and her two sons, when they have become famous knights.\n\nThe following is an epitome of \"Sir Isumbras,\" from Ellis's\n\"Specimens of Early English Metrical Romances\" (Bohr's ed. p. 479\nff.):\n\n\n                    ROMANCE OF SIR ISUMBRAS.\n\nThere was once a knight, who, from his earliest infancy, appeared\nto be the peculiar favourite of Fortune. His birth was noble; his\nperson equally remarkable for strength and beauty; his\npossessions so extensive as to furnish the amusements of hawking\nand hunting in the highest perfection. Though he had found no\nopportunity of signalising his courage in war, he had borne away\nthe prize at numberless tournaments; his courtesy was the theme\nof general praise; his hall was the seat of unceasing plenty; it\nwas crowded with minstrels, whom he entertained with princely\nliberality, and the possession of a beautiful wife and three\nlovely children completed the sum of earthly happiness.\n\nSir Isumbras had many virtues, but he had one vice. In the pride\nof his heart he forgot the Giver of all good things, and\nconsidered the blessings so abundantly showered upon him as the\nproper and just reward of his distinguished merit. Instances of\nthis overweening presumption might perhaps be found in all ages\namong the possessors of wealth and power; but few sinners have\nthe good fortune to be recalled, like Sir Isumbras, by a severe\nbut salutary punishment, to the pious sentiments of Christian\nhumility.\n\nIt was usual with knights to amuse themselves with hawking or\nhunting whenever they were not occupied by some more serious\nbusiness; and, as business seldom intervened, they thus amused\nthemselves every day in the year. One morning, being mounted on\nhis favourite steed, surrounded by his dogs, and with a hawk on\nhis wrist, Sir Isumbras cast his eyes on the sky, and discovered\nan angel, who, hovering over him, reproached him with his pride,\nand announced the punishment of instant and complete degradation.\nThe terrified knight immediately fell on his knees; acknowledged\nthe justice of his sentence; returned thanks to Heaven for\ndeigning to visit him with adversity while the possession of\nyouth and health enabled him to endure it; and, filled with\ncontrition, prepared to return from the forest. But scarcely had\nthe angel disappeared when his good steed suddenly fell dead\nunder him, the hawk dropped from his wrist; his hounds wasted and\nexpired; and, being thus left alone, he hastened on foot towards\nhis palace, filled with melancholy forebodings, but impatient to\nlearn the whole extent of his misfortune.\n\nHe was presently met by a part of his household, who, with many\ntears, informed him that his horses and oxen had been suddenly\nstruck dead with lightning, and that his capons were all stung to\ndeath with adders. He received the tidings with humble\nresignation, commanded his servants to abstain from murmurs\nagainst Providence, and passed on. He was next met by a page, who\nrelated that his castle was burned to the ground, that many of\nhis servants had lost their lives, and that his wife and children\nhad with great difficulty escaped from the flames. Sir Isumbras,\nrejoiced that Heaven had yet spared those who were most dear to\nhim, bestowed upon the astonished page his purse of gold as a\nreward for the intelligence.\n\n          A doleful sight then gan he see;\n          His wife and children three\n             Out of the fire were fled:\n          There they sat, under a thorn,\n          Bare and naked as they were born,\n             Brought out of their bed.\n          A woful man then was he,\n          When he saw them all naked be,\n             The lady said, all so blive,\n          \"For nothing, sir, be ye adrad.\"\n          He did off his surcoat of pallade,[FN#572]\n             And with it clad his wife.\n          His scarlet mantle then shore[FN#573] he;\n          Therein he closed his children three\n             That naked before him stood.\n\nHe then proposed to his wife that, as an expiation of their sins,\nthey should at once under take a pilgrimage to Jerusalem; so,\ncutting with his knife a sign of the cross on his bare shoulder,\nhe set off with the four companions of his misery, resolving to\nbeg his bread till they should arrive at the Holy Sepulchre.\nAfter passing through \"seven lands,\" supported by the scanty alms\nof the charitable, they arrived at length at a forest, where they\nwandered during three days without meeting a single habitation.\nTheir food was reduced to the few berries which they were able to\ncollect; and the children, unaccustomed to such hard fare, began\nto sink under the accumulated difficulties of their journey. In\nthis situation they were stopped by a wide and rapid though\nshallow river. Sir Isumbras, taking his eldest son in his arms,\ncarried him over to the opposite bank, and placing him under a\nbush of broom, directed him to dry his tears, and amuse himself\nby playing with the blossoms till his return with his brothers.\nBut scarcely had he left the place when a lion, starting from a\nneighbouring thicket, seized the child and bore him away into the\nrecesses of the forest. The second son became, in like manner,\nthe prey of an enormous leopard; and the disconsolate mother,\nwhen carried over with her infant to the fatal spot, was with\ndifficulty persuaded to survive the loss of her two elder\nchildren. Sir Isumbras, though he could not repress the tears\nextorted by this cruel calamity, exerted himself to console his\nwife and humbly confessing his sins, contented himself with\npraying that his present misery might be accepted by Heaven as a\npartial expiation.\n\n          Through forest they went days three,\n          Till they came to the Greekish sea;\n             They grette,[FN#574] and were full wo!\n          As they stood upon the land,\n          They saw a fleet sailand,[FN#575]\n             Three hundred ships and mo.[FN#576]\n          With top-castels set on-loft,\n          Richly then were they wrought,\n             With joy and mickle[FN#577] pride:\n          A heathen king was therein,\n          That Christendom came to win;\n             His power was full wide.\n\nIt was now seven days since the pilgrims had tasted bread or\nmeat, the soudan's[FN#578] galley, therefore, was no sooner moored\nto the beach than the hastened on board to beg for food. The\nsoudan, under the apprehension that they were spies, ordered them\nto be driven back on shore; but his attendants observed to him\nthat these could not be common beggars; that the robust limbs and\ntall stature of the husband proved him to be a knight in\ndisguise, and that the delicate complexion of the wife, who was\n\"bright as blossom on tree,\" formed a striking contrast to the\nragged apparel with which she was very imperfectly covered. They\nwere now brought into the royal presence; and the soudan,\naddressing Sir Isumbras, immediately offered him as much treasure\nas he should require, on condition that he should renounce\nChristianity and consent to fight under the Saracen banners. The\nanswer was a respectful but peremptory refusal, concluded by an\nearnest petition for a little food; but the soudan, having by\nthis time turned his eyes from Sir Isumbras to the beautiful\ncompanion of his pilgrimage, paid no attention to his request.\n\n          The soudan beheld that lady there,\n          Him thought an angel that she were,\n             Comen a-down from heaven;\n          \"Man! I will give thee gold and fee,\n          An thou that woman will sellen me,\n             More than thou can neven.[FN#579]\n          I will give thee an hundred pound\n          Of pennies that been whole and round,\n             And rich robes seven:\n          She shall be queen of my land,\n          And all men bow unto her hand,\n             And none withstand her steven.\"[FN#580]\n          Sir Isumbras said, \"Nay!\n          My wife I will nought sell away,\n             Though ye me for her sloo![FN#581]\n          I weddid her in Goddislay,\n          To hold her to mine ending day,\n             Both for weal and wo.\"\n\nIt evidently would require no small share of casuistry to\nconstrue this declaration into an acceptance of the bargain, but\nthe Saracens, having heard the offer of their sovereign,\ndeliberately counted out the stipulated sum on the mantle of Sir\nIsumbras; took possession of the lady, carried the knight with\nhis infant son on shore; beat him till he was scarcely able to\nmove, and then returned for further orders. During this\noperation, the soudan, with his own hand, placed the regal crown\non the head of his intended bride; but recollecting that the\noriginal project of the voyage to Europe was to conquer it, which\nmight possibly occasion a loss of some time, he delayed his\nintended nuptial, and ordered a fast-sailing vessel to convey her\nto his dominions, providing her at the same time with a charter\naddressed to his subjects, in which he enjoined them to obey her,\nfrom the moment of her landing, as their legitimate sovereign.\n\nThe lady, emboldened by these tokens of deference on the part of\nher new lord, now fell on her knees and entreated his permission\nto pass a few moments in private with her former husband, and the\nrequest was instantly granted by the complaisant Saracen. Sir\nIsumbras, still smarting from his bruises, was conducted with\ngreat respect and ceremony to his wife, who, embracing him with\ntears, earnestly conjured him to seek her out as soon as possible\nin her new dominions, to slay his infidel rival, and to take\npossession of a throne which was probably reserved to him by\nHeaven as an indemnification for his past losses. She then\nsupplied him with provisions for a fortnight; kissed him and her\ninfant son; swooned three times, and then set sail for Africa.\n\nSir Isumbras, who had been set on shore quite confounded by this\nquick succession of strange adventures, followed the vessel with\nhis eyes till it vanished from his sight, and then taking his son\nby the hand led him up to some rocky woodlands in the\nneighbourhood. Here they sat down under a tree, and after a short\nrepast, which was moistened with their tears, resumed their\njourney. But they were again bewildered in the forest, and, after\ngaining the summit of the mountain without being able to descry a\nsingle habitation, lay down on the bare ground and resigned\nthemselves to sleep. The next morning Sir Isumbras found that his\nmisfortunes were not yet terminated. He had carried his stock of\nprovisions, together with his gold, the fatal present of the\nsoudan, enveloped in a scarlet mantle; and scarcely had the sun\ndarted its first rays on the earth when an eagle, attracted by\nthe red cloth, swooped down upon the treasure and bore it off in\nhis talons. Sir Isumbras, waking at the moment, perceived the\ntheft, and for some time hastily pursued the flight of the bird,\nwho, he expected, would speedily drop the heavy and useless\nburthen; but he was disappointed; for the eagle, constantly\ntowering as he approached the sea, at length directed his flight\ntowards the opposite shore of Africa. Sir Isumbras slowly\nreturned to his child, whom he had no longer the means of\nfeeding; but the wretched father only arrived in time to behold\nthe boy snatched from him by a unicorn. The knight was now quite\ndisheartened. But his last calamity was so evidently miraculous\nthat even the grief of the father was nearly absorbed by the\ncontrition of the sinner. He fell on his knees and uttered a most\nfervent prayer to Jesus and the Virgin, and then proceeded on his\njourney.\n\nHis attention was soon attracted by the sound of a smith's\nbellows: he quickly repaired to the forge and requested the\ncharitable donation of a little food; but was told by the\nlabourers that he seemed as well able to work as they did, and\nthey had nothing to throw away in charity.\n\n          Then answered the knight again,\n          \"For meat would I swink[FN#582] fain.\"\n             Fast he bare and drow,[FN#583]\n          They given him meat and drink anon.\n          And taughten him to bear stone:\n             Then had he shame enow.\n\nThis servitude lasted a twelvemonth, and seven years expired\nbefore he had fully attained all the mysteries of his new\nprofession. He employed his few leisure hours in fabricating a\ncomplete suit of armour: every year had brought him an account of\nthe progress of the Saracens; and he could not help entertaining\na hope that his arm, though so ignobly employed, was destined at\nsome future day to revenge the wrongs of the Christians, as well\nas the injury which he had personally received from the\nunbelievers.\n\nAt length he heard that the Christian army had again taken the\nfield; that the day was fixed for a great and final effort; and\nthat a plain at an inconsiderable distance from his shop was\nappointed for the scene of action. Sir Isumbras rose before day,\nbuckled on his armour, and mounting a horse which had hitherto\nbeen employed in carrying coals, proceeded to the field and took\na careful view of the disposition of both armies. When the\ntrumpets gave the signal to charge, he dismounted, fell on his\nknees, and after a short but fervent prayer to Heaven, again\nsprang into his saddle and rode into the thickest ranks of the\nenemy. His uncouth war-horse and awkward armour had scarcely less\neffect than his wonderful address and courage in attracting the\nattention of both parties; and when after three desperate\ncharges, his sorry steed was slain under him, one of the\nChristian chiefs make a powerful effort for his rescue, bore him\nto a neighbouring eminence, and presented to him a more suitable\ncoat of armour, and a horse more worthy of the heroic rider.\n\n          When he was armed on that stead,\n          It is seen where his horse yede,[FN#584]\n             And shall be evermore.\n          As sparkle glides off the glede,[FN#585]\n          In that stour he made many bleed,\n             And wrought hem wonder sore.\n          He rode up into the mountain,\n          The soudan soon hath he slain,\n             And many that with him were.\n          All that day lasted the fight;\n          Sir Isumbras, that noble knight,\n             Wan the battle there.\n          Knights and squires have him sought,\n          And before the king him brought;\n             Full sore wounded was he.\n          They asked what was his name;\n          He said, \"Sire, a smith's man;\n             What will ye do with me?\"\n          The Christian king said, than,\n          \"I trow never smith's man\n             In war was half so wight.\"\n          \"I bid[FN#586] you, give me meat and drink\n          And what that I will after think,\n             Till I have kevered[FN#587] my might.\"\n          The king a great oath sware,\n          As soon as he whole were,\n             That he would dub him knight.\n          In a nunnery they him leaved,\n          To heal the wound in his heved,[FN#588]\n             That he took in that fight.\n          The nuns of him were full fain,\n          For he had the soudan slain,\n             And many heathen hounds;\n          For his sorrow they gan sore rue;\n          Every day they salved him new,\n             And stopp\ufffdd well his wounds.\n\nWe may fairly presume, without derogating from the merit of the\nholy sisters or from the virtue of their salves and bandages,\nthat the knight's recovery was no less accelerated by the\npleasure of having chastised the insolent possessor of his wife\nand the author of his contumelious beating. In a few days his\nhealth was restored; and having provided himself with a \"scrip\nand pike\" and the other accoutrements of a palmer, he took his\nleave of the nuns, directed his steps once more to the \"Greekish\nSea,\" and, embarking on board of a vessel which he found ready to\nsail, speedily arrived at the port of Acre.\n\nDuring seven years, which were employed in visiting every part of\nthe Holy Land, the penitent Sir Isumbras led a life of continued\nlabour and mortification: fed during the day by the precarious\ncontributions of the charitable, and sleeping at night in the\nopen air, without any addition to the scanty covering which his\npilgrim's weeds, after seven years service, were able to afford.\nAt length his patience and contrition were rewarded. After a day\nspent in fruitless applications for a little food,\n\n          Beside the burgh of Jerusalem\n          He set him down by a well-stream,\n             Sore wepand[FN#589] for his sin.\n          And as he sat, about midnight,\n          There came an angel fair and bright,\n             And brought him bread and wine;\n          He said, \"Palmer, well thou be!\n          The King of Heaven greeteth well thee;\n             Forgiven is sin thine.\"\n\nSir Isumbras accepted with pious gratitude the donation of food,\nby which his strength was instantly restored, and again set out\non his travels; but he was still a widower, still deprived of his\nchildren, and as poor as ever; nor had his heavenly monitor\nafforded him any hint for his future guidance. He wandered\ntherefore through the country, without any settled purpose, till\nhe arrived at a \"rich burgh,\" built round a \"fair castle,\" the\npossessor of which, he was told, was a charitable queen, who\ndaily distributed a florin of gold to every poor man who\napproached her gates, and even condescended to provide food and\nlodging within her palace for such as were distinguished by\nsuperior misery. Sir Isumbras presented himself with the rest;\nand his emaciated form and squalid garments procured him instant\nadmittance.\n\n          The rich queen in hall was set;\n          Knights her served, at hand and feet,\n             In rich robes of pall:\n          In the floor a cloth was laid;\n          \"The poor palmer,\" the steward said,\n             \"Shall sit above you all.\"\n          Meat and drink forth they brought;\n          He sat still, and ate right nought,\n             But looked about the hall.\n          So mickle he saw of game and glee\n          (Swiche mirthis he was wont to see)\n             The tears he let down fall.\n\nConduct so unusual attracted the attention of the whole company,\nand even of the queen, who, ordering \"a chair with a cushion\" to\nbe placed near the palmer, took her seat in it, entered into\nconversation with him on the subject of his long and painful\npilgrimage, and was much edified by the moral lessons which he\ninterspersed in his narrative. But no importunity could induce\nhim to taste food: he was sick at heart, and required the aid of\nsolitary meditation to overcome the painful recollections which\ncontinually assailed him The queen was more and more astonished,\nbut at length left him to his reflections, after declaring that,\n\"for her lord's soul, or for his love, if he were still alive,\"\nshe was determined to retain the holy palmer in her palace, and\nto assign him a convenient apartment, together with a servant to\nattend him.\n\nAn interval of fifteen years, passed in the laborious occupations\nof blacksmith and pilgrim, may be supposed to have produced a\nvery considerable alteration in the appearance of Sir Isumbras;\nand even his voice, subdued by disease and penance, may have\nfailed to discover the gallant knight under the disguise which he\nhad so long assumed. But that his wife (for such she was) should\nhave been equally altered by the sole operation of time; that the\nair and gestures and action of a person once so dear and so\nfamiliar to him should have awakened no trace of recollection in\nthe mind of a husband, though in the midst of scenes which\npainfully recalled the memory of his former splendour, is more\nextraordinary. Be this as it may, the knight and the queen,\nthough lodged under the same roof and passing much of their time\ntogether, continued to bewail the miseries of their protracted\nwidowhood. Sir Isumbras, however, speedily recovered, in the\nplentiful court of the rich queen, his health and strength, and\nwith these the desire of returning to his former exercises. A\ntournament was proclaimed; and the lists, which were formed\nimmediately under the windows of the castle, were quickly occupied\nby a number of Saracen knights, all of whom Sir Isumbras\nsuccessively overthrew. So dreadful was the stroke of his spear,\nthat many were killed at the first encounter; some escaped with a\nfew broken bones; others were thrown headlong into the castle\nditch; but the greater number consulted their safety by a timely\nflight; while the queen contemplated with pleasure and\nastonishment the unparalleled exploits of her favourite palmer.\n\n          Then fell it, upon a day,\n          The Knight went him for to play,\n             As it was ere his kind;\n          A fowl's nest he found on high;\n          A red cloth therein he seygh[FN#590]\n             Wavand[FN#591] in the wind.\n          To the nest he gan win;[FN#592]\n          His own mantle he found therein;\n             The gold there gan he find.\n\nThe painful recollection awakened by this discovery weighed\nheavily on the soul of Sir Isumbras. He bore the fatal treasure\nto his chamber, concealed it under his bed, and spent the\nremainder of the day in tears and lamentations. The images of his\nlost wife and children now began to haunt him continually; and\nhis altered demeanour attracted the attention and excited the\ncuriosity of the whole court, and even of the queen, who could\nonly learn from the palmer's attendant that his melancholy seemed\nto originate in the discovery of something in a bird's nest. With\nthis strange report she was compelled to be satisfied, till Sir\nIsumbras, with the hope of dissipating his grief, began to resume\nhis usual exercises in the field; but no sooner had he quitted\nhis chamber than the \"squires\" by her command broke open the\ndoor, discovered the treasure, and hastened with it to the royal\napartment. The sight of the gold and the scarlet mantle\nimmediately explained to the queen the whole mystery of the\npalmer's behaviour. She burst into tears; kissed with fervent\ndevotion the memorial of her lost husband; fell into a swoon; and\non her recovery told the story to her attendants, and enjoined\nthem to go in quest of the palmer, and to bring him at once\nbefore her. A short explanation removed her few remaining doubts;\nshe threw herself into the arms of her husband, and the reunion\nof this long separated couple was immediately followed by the\ncoronation of Sir Isumbras and by a protracted series of\nfestivities.\n\nThe Saracen subjects of the Christian sovereign continued, with\nunshaken loyalty, to partake of the plentiful entertainments\nprovided for all ranks of people on this solemn occasion;\t but no\nsooner had the pious Sir Isumbras signified to them the necessity\nof their immediate conversion, than his whole \"parliament\"\nadopted the resolution of deposing and committing to the flames\ntheir newly-acquired sovereign, as soon as they should have\nobtained the concurrence of the neighbouring princes. Two of\nthese readily joined their forces for the accomplishment of this\nsalutary purpose, and invading the territories of Sir Isumbras\nwith an army of thirty thousand men, sent him, according to usual\ncustom, a solemn defiance. Sir Isumbras boldly answered the\ndefiance, issued the necessary orders, called for his arms,\nsprang upon his horse, and prepared to march out against the\nenemy; when he discovered that his subjects had, to a man,\nabandoned him, and that he must encounter singly the whole host\nof the invaders.\n\n          Sir Isumbras was bold and keen,\n          And took his leave at the queen,\n             And sighed wonder sore:\n          He said, \"Madam, have good day!\n          Sickerly, as you I say,\n             For now and evermore!\"\n          \"Help me, sir, that I were dight\n          In arms, as it were a knight;\n             I will with you fare:\n          Gif God would us grace send,\n          That we may together end,\n             Then done were all my care.\"\n          Soon was the lady dight\n          In arms, as it were a knight;\n             He gave her spear and shield:\n          Again[FN#593] thirty thousand Saracens and mo.[FN#594]\n          There came no more but they two,\n             When they met in field.\n\nNever, probably, did a contest take place between such\ndisproportioned forces. Sir Isumbras was rather encumbered than\nassisted by the presence of his beautiful but feeble helpmate;\nand the faithful couple were upon the point of being crushed by\nthe charge of the enemy, when three unknown knights suddenly made\ntheir appearance, and as suddenly turned the fortune of the day.\nThe first of these was mounted on a lion, the second on a\nleopard, and the third on a unicorn. The Saracen cavalry, at the\nfirst sight of these unexpected antagonists, dispersed in all\ndirections. But flight and resistance were equally hopeless:\nthree and twenty thousand unbelievers were soon laid lifeless on\nthe plain by the talons of the lion and leopard and by the\nresistless horn of the unicorn, or by the swords of their young\nand intrepid riders; and the small remnant of the Saracen army\nwho escaped from the general carnage quickly spread, through\nevery corner of the Mohammedan world, the news of this signal and\ntruly miraculous victory.\n\nSir Isumbras, who does not seem to have possessed the talent for\nunravelling mysteries, had never suspected that his three\nwonderful auxiliaries were his own children, whom Providence had\nsent to his assistance at the moment of his greatest distress;\nbut he was not the less thankful when informed of the happy\ntermination of all his calamities. The royal family were received\nin the city with every demonstration of joy by his penitent\nsubjects; whose loyalty had been completely revived by the recent\nmiracle. Magnificent entertainments were provided; after which\nSir Isumbras, having easily overrun the territories of his two\npagan neighbours, who had been slain in the last battle,\nproceeded to conquer a third kingdom for his youngest son; and\nthe four monarchs, uniting their efforts for the propagation of\nthe true faith, enjoyed the happiness of witnessing the baptism\nof all the inhabitants of their respective dominions.\n\n          They lived and died in good intent;\n          Unto heaven their souls went,\n             When that they dead were.\n          Jesu Christ, heaven's king,\n          Give us, aye, his blessing,\n             And shield us from care!\n\nOn comparing these several versions it will be seen that, while\nthey differ one from another m some of the details, yet the\nfundamental outline is identical, with the single exception of\nthe Tibetan story, which, in common with Tibetan tales generally,\nhas departed very considerably from the original. A king, or\nknight, is suddenly deprived of all his possessions, and with his\nwife and two children becomes a wanderer on the face of the\nearth; his wife is forcibly taken from him; he afterwards loses\nhis two sons; he is once more raised to affluence; his sons,\nhaving been adopted and educated by a charitable person, enter\nhis service; their mother recognises them through overhearing\ntheir conversation; finally husband and wife and children are\nhappily re-united. Such is the general outline of the story,\nthough modifications have been made in the details of the\ndifferent versions-- probably through its being transmitted\norally in some instances. Thus in the Arabian story, the king is\nruined apparently in consequence of no fault of his own; in the\nPanj\ufffdb\ufffd version, he relinquishes his wealth to a fak\ufffdr as a pious\naction; in the Kashm\ufffdr\ufffd and in the romance of Sir Isumbras, the\nhero loses his wealth as a punishment for his overweening pride;\nin the legend of St. Eustache, as in the story of Job, the\ncalamities which overtake the Christian convert are designed by\nHeaven as a trial of his patience and fortitude; while even in\nthe corrupted Tibetan story the ruin of the monarch is reflected\nin the destruction of the parents of the heroine by a hurricane.\nIn both the Kashm\ufffdr\ufffd and the Panj\ufffdb\ufffd versions, the father is\nswallowed by a fish (or an alligator) in re-crossing the river to\nfetch his second child; in the Tibetan story the wife loses her\nhusband, who is killed by a snake, and having taken one of her\nchildren over the river, she is returning for the other when,\nlooking back, she discovers her babe in the jaws of a wolf: both\nher children perish: in the European versions they are carried\noff by wild beasts and rescued by strangers--the romance of Sir\nIsumbras is singular in representing the number of children to be\nthree. Only in the Arabian story do we find the father carrying\nhis wife and children in safety across the stream, and the latter\nafterwards lost in the forest. The Kashm\ufffdr\ufffd and \"Gesta\" versions\ncorrespond exactly in representing the shipman as seizing the\nlady because her husband could not pay the passage-money: in the\nArabian she is entrapped in the ship, owned by a Magian, on the\npretext that there is on board a woman in labour; in Sir Isumbras\nshe is forcibly \"bought\" by the Soudan. She is locked up in a\nchest by the Magian; sent to rule his country by the Soudan;\nrespectfully treated by the merchant in the Kashm\ufffdr\ufffd story, and,\napparently, also by Kandan in the Panj\ufffdb\ufffd legend; in the story of\nSt. Eustache her persecutor dies and she is living in humble\ncircumstances when discovered by her husband.--I think there is\ninternal evidence, apart from the existence of the Tibetan\nversion, to lead to the conclusion that the story is of Buddhist\nextraction, and if such be the fact, it furnishes a further\nexample of the indebtedness of Christian hagiology to Buddhist\ntales and legends.\n\n\n\n\nAL-MALIK AL-ZAHIR AND THE SIXTEEN CAPTAINS OF POLICE.--Vol. XII.\n                             p. 3.\n\n\n\nWe must, I think, regard this group of tales as being genuine\nnarratives of the exploits of Egyptian sharpers. From the days of\nHerodotus to the present time, Egypt has bred the most expert\nthieves in the world. The policemen don't generally exhibit much\nability for coping with the sharpers whose tricks they so well\nrecount; but indeed our home-grown \"bobbies\" are not particularly\nquick-witted.\n\n\n\n\n              THE THIEF'S TALE.--Vol. XII. p. 42.\n\n\n\nA parallel to the woman's trick of shaving off the beards and\nblackening the faces of the robbers is found in the well-known\nlegend, as told by Herodotus (Euterpe, 121), of the robbery of\nthe treasure-house of Rhampsinitus king of Egypt, where the\nclever thief, having made the soldiers dead drunk, shaves off the\nright side of their beards and then decamps with his brother's\nheadless body.\n\n\n\n\n         THE NINTH CONSTABLE'S STORY.--Vol. XII. p. 46.\n\n\n\nThe narrow escape of the singing-girl hidden under a pile of\nhalfah grass may be compared with an adventure of a fugitive\nMexican prince whose history, as related by Prescott, is as full\nof romantic daring and hair's-breadth 'scapes as that of\nScanderbeg or the \"Young Chevalier.\" This prince had just time to\nturn the crest of a hill as his enemies were climbing it on the\nother side, when he fell in with a girl who was reaping chian, a\nMexican plant, the seed of which is much used in the drinks of\nthe country. He persuaded her to cover him with the stalks she\nhad been cutting. When his pursuers came up and inquired if she\nhad seen the fugitive, the girl coolly answered that she had, and\npointed out a path as the one he had taken.\n\n\n\n\n       THE FIFTEENTH CONSTABLE'S STORY.--Vol. XII. p. 59.\n\n\n\nThe concluding part of this story differs very materially from\nthat of the Greek legend of Ibycus (fl. B.C. 540), which is thus\nrelated in a small MS. collection of Arabian and Persian\nanecdotes in my possession, done into English from the French:\n\nIt is written in the history of the first kings that in the reign\nof a Grecian king there lived a philosopher named Ibycus, who\nsurpassed in sagacity all other sages of Greece. Ibycus was once\nsent by the king to a neighbouring court. On the way he was\nattacked by robbers who, suspecting him to have much money,\nformed the design of killing him. \"Your object in taking my life,\"\nsaid Ibycus, \"is to obtain my money; I give it up to you, but\nallow me to live.\" The robbers paid no attention to his words,\nand persisted in their purpose. The wretched Ibycus, in his\ndespair, looked about him to see if any one was coming to his\nassistance, but no person was in sight. At that very moment a\nflock of cranes flew overhead. \"O cranes!\" cried Ibycus, \"know\nthat I have been seized in this desert by these wicked men, and I\ndie from their blows. Avenge me, and demand from them my blood.\"\nAt these words the robbers burst into laughter: \"To take away\nlife from those who have lost their reason,\" they observed, \"is\nto add nothing to their hurt.\" So saying, they killed Ibycus and\ndivided his money. On receipt of the news that Ibycus had been\nmurdered, the inhabitants of the town were exasperated and felt\ngreat sorrow. They caused strict inquiries to be made for the\nmurderers, but they could not be found. After some time the\nGreeks were celebrating a feast. The inhabitants of the adjoining\ndistricts came in crowds to the temples. The murderers of Ibycus\nalso came, and everywhere showed themselves. Meanwhile a flock of\ncranes appeared in the air and hovered above the people, uttering\ncries so loud and prolonged that the prayers and ceremonies were\ninterrupted. One of the robbers looked with a smile at his\ncomrades, saying, by way of joke, \"These cranes come without\ndoubt to avenge the blood of Ibycus.\" Some one of the town, who\nwas near them, heard these words, repeated them to his neighbour,\nand they together reported them to the king. The robbers were\ntaken, strictly cross-examined, confessed their crime, and\nsuffered for it a just punishment. In this way the cranes\ninflicted vengeance on the murderers of Ibycus. But we ought to\nsee in this incident a matter which is concealed in it: This\nphilosopher, although apparently addressing his words to the\ncranes, was really imploring help from their Creator; he hoped,\nin asking their aid, that He would not suffer his blood to flow\nunavenged. So God accomplished his hopes, and willed that cranes\nshould be the cause that his death was avenged in order that the\nsages of the world should learn from it the power and wisdom of\nthe Creator.\n\nThis ancient legend was probably introduced into Arabian\nliterature in the 9th century, when translations of so many of the\nbest Greek works were made; and, no doubt, it was adapted in the\nfollowing Indian (Muslim) story:[FN#595]\n\nThere was a certain pir, or saint, of great wisdom, learning, and\nsanctity, who sat by the wayside expounding the Kur\ufffdn to all who\nwould listen to him. He dwelt in the out-buildings of a ruined\nmosque close by, his only companion being a maina, or\nhill-starling, which he had taught to proclaim the excellence of\nthe formula of his religion, saying, \"The Prophet is just!\" It\nchanced that two travellers passing that way beheld the holy man\nat his devotions, and though far from being religious persons yet\ntarried a while to hear the words of truth. Evening now drawing\non, the saint invited his apparently pious auditors to his\ndwelling, and set before them such coarse food as he had to\noffer. Having eaten and refreshed themselves, they were\nastonished at the wisdom displayed by the bird, who continued to\nrepeat holy texts from the Kur\ufffdn. The meal ended, they all lay\ndown to sleep, and while the good man reposed, his treacherous\nguests, who envied him the possession a bird that in their hands\nmight be the means of enriching them, determined to steal the\ntreasure and murder its master. So they stabbed the sleeping\ndevotee to the heart and then seized hold of the bird's cage.\nBut, unperceived by them, the door of it had been left open and\nthe bird was not to be found. After searching for the bird in\nvain, they considered it necessary to dispose of the body, since,\nif discovered, suspicion would assuredly fall upon them; and\ncarrying it away to what they deemed a safe distance they buried\nit. Vexed to be obliged to leave the place without obtaining the\nreward of their evil deeds, they again looked carefully for the\nbird, but without success; it was nowhere to be seen, and so they\nwere compelled to go forward without the object of their search.\nThe maina had witnessed the atrocious deed, and unseen had\nfollowed the murderers to the place were they had buried the\nbody; it then perched upon the tree beneath which the saint had\nbeen wont to enlighten the minds of his followers, and when they\nassembled flew into their midst, exclaiming, \"The Prophet is\njust!\" making short flights and then returning. These unusual\nmotions, together with the absence of their preceptor, induced\nthe people to follow it, and directing its flight to the grave of\nits master, it uttered a mournful cry over the newly-covered\ngrave. The villagers, astonished, began to remove the earth, and\nsoon discovered the bloody corse.  Surprised and horror-stricken,\nthey looked about for some traces of the murderers, and\nperceiving that the bird had resumed the movements which had\nfirst induced them to follow it, they suffered it to lead them\nforward. Before evening fell, the avengers came up with two men,\nwho no sooner heard the maina exclaim, \"The Prophet is just'\" and\nsaw the crowd that accompanied it, than they fell upon their\nknees, confessing that the Prophet had indeed brought their evil\ndeeds to light; so, their crime being thus made manifest, summary\njustice was inflicted upon them.\n\n\n\n\n     TALE OF THE DAMSEL TUHFAT AL-KULUB.--Vol. XII. p. 70.\n\n\n\nAn entertaining story, but very inconsistent in the character of\nIblis, who is constantly termed, in good Muslim fashion, \"the\naccursed,\" yet seems to be somewhat of a follower of the Prophet,\nand on the whole a good-natured sort of fellow. His mode of\nexpressing his approval of the damsel's musical \"talent\" is, to\nsay the least, original.\n\n\n\n\n                WOMEN'S WILES.--Vol. XII. p. 99.\n\n\n\nA variant--perhaps an older form--of this story occurs in the\ntale of Prince Fadlallah, which is interwoven with the History of\nPrince Calaf and the Princess of China, in the Persian tales of\n\"The Thousand and One Days\":\n\nThe prince, on his way to Baghdad, is attacked by robbers, his\nfollowers are all slain, and himself made prisoner, but he is set\nat liberty by the compassionate wife of the robber-chief during\nhis absence on a plundering expedition. When he reaches Baghdad\nhe has no resource but to beg his bread, and having stationed\nhimself in front of a large mansion, an old female slave\npresently comes out and gives him a loaf. At this moment a gust\nof wind blew aside the curtain of a window and discovered to his\nadmiring eyes a most beautiful damsel, of whom he became\nimmediately enamoured. He inquired of a passerby the name of the\nowner of the mansion, and was informed that it belonged to a man\ncalled Mouaffac, who had been lately governor of the city, but\nhaving quarrelled with the k\ufffdz\ufffd, who was of a revengeful\ndisposition, the latter had found means to disgrace him with the\nkhal\ufffdf and to have him deprived of his office. After lingering\nnear the house in vain till nightfall, in hopes of once more\nobtaining a glimpse of this beauty, he retired for the night to a\nburying-ground, where he was soon joined by two thieves, who\npressed upon him a share of the good cheer with which they had\nprovided themselves, but while the thieves were feasting and\ntalking over a robbery which they had just accomplished, the\npolice suddenly pounced upon them, and took all three and cast\nthem into prison.\n\nIn the morning they were examined by the k\ufffdz\ufffd, and the thieves,\nseeing it was useless to deny it, confessed their crime.  The\nprince then told the k\ufffdz\ufffd how he chanced to fall into company of\nthe thieves, who confirmed all he said, and he was set at\nliberty. Then the k\ufffdz\ufffd began to question him as to how he had\nemployed his time since he came to Baghd\ufffdd, to which he answered\nvery frankly but concealed his rank. On his mentioning the brief\nglance he had of the beautiful lady at the window of the\nex-governor's house, the k\ufffdz\ufffd's eyes sparkled with apparent\nsatifaction, and he assured the prince that he should have the\nlady for his bride; for, believing the prince to be a mere\nbeggarly adventurer, he resolved to foist him on Mouaffac as the\nson of a great monarch. So, having sent the prince to the bath and\nprovided him with rich garments, the k\ufffdz\ufffd despatched a messenger\nto request Mouaffac to come to him on important business. When\nthe ex-governor arrived, the k\ufffdz\ufffd told him blandly that there was\nnow an excellent opportunity for doing away the ill will that had\nso long existed between them. \"It is this,\" continued he: \"the\nprince of Basra, having fallen in love with your daughter from\nreport of her great beauty, has just come to Baghd\ufffdd, unknown to\nhis father, and intends to demand her of you in marriage. He is\nlodged in my house, and is most anxious that this affair should\nbe arranged by my interposition, which is the more agreeable to\nme, since it will, I trust, be the means of reconciling our\ndifferences.\" Mouaffac expressed his surprise that the prince of\nBasra should think of marrying his daughter, and especially that\nthe proposal should come through the k\ufffdz\ufffd, of all men. But the k\ufffdz\ufffd\nbegged him to forget their former animosity and consent to the\nimmediate celebration of the nuptials. While they were thus\ntalking, the prince entered, in a magnificent dress, and was not\na little astonished to be presented to Mouaffac by the\ntreacherous k\ufffdz\ufffd as the prince of Basra, who had come as a suitor\nfor his daughter in marriage. The ex-governor saluted him with\nevery token of profound respect, and expressed his sense of the\nhonour of such an alliance: his daughter was unworthy to wait\nupon the meanest of the prince's slaves. In brief, the marriage\nis at once celebrated, and the prince duly retires to the bridal\nchamber with the beauteous daughter of Mouaffac. But in the\nmorning, at an early hour, a servant of the k\ufffdz\ufffd knocks at his\ndoor, and, on the prince opening it, says that he brings him his\nrags of clothes and is required to take back the dress which the\nk\ufffdz\ufffd had lent him yesterday to personate the prince of Basra. The\nprince, having donned his tattered garments, said to his wife,\n\"The k\ufffdz\ufffd thinks he has married you to a wretched beggar, but I\nam no whit inferior in rank to the prince of Basra--I am also a\nprince, being the only son of the king of Mosel,\" and then\nproceeded to recount all his adventures. When he had concluded\nhis recital, the lady despatched a servant to procure a suitable\ndress for the prince, which when he had put on, she said, \"I see\nit all: the k\ufffdz\ufffd, no doubt, believes that by this time we are all\noverwhelmed with shame and grief. But what must be his feelings\nwhen he learns that he has been a benefactor to his enemies!\nBefore you disclose to him your real rank, however, we must\ncontrive to punish him for his malicious intentions. There is a\ndyer in this town who has a frightfully ugly daughter-- but leave\nthis affair in my hands.\"\n\nThe lady then dressed herself in plain but becoming apparel, and\nwent out of the house alone. She proceeded to the court of the\nk\ufffdz\ufffd, who no sooner cast his eyes upon her than he was struck\nwith her elegant form. He sent an officer to inquire of her who\nshe was and what she had come about. She made answer that she was\nthe daughter of an artisan in the city. and that she desired to\nhave some private conversation with the k\ufffdz\ufffd. When the officer\nreported the lady's reply, the k\ufffdz\ufffd directed her to be conducted\ninto a private chamber, where he presently joined her, and\ngallantly placed his services at her disposal. The lady now\nremoved her veil, and asked him whether he saw anything ugly or\nrepulsive in her features. The k\ufffdz\ufffd on seeing her beautiful face\nwas suddenly plunged in the sea of love, and declared that her\nforehead was of polished silver, her eyes were sparkling\ndiamonds, her mouth a ruby casket containing a bracelet of\npearls. Then she displayed her arms, so white and plump, the\nsight of which threw the k\ufffdz\ufffd into ecstasies and almost caused\nhim to faint. Quoth the lady, \"I must tell you, my lord, that\nwith all the beauty I possess, my father, a dyer in the city,\nkeeps me secluded, and declares to all who come to ask me in\nmarriage that I am an ugly, deformed monster, a mere skeleton,\nlame, and full of diseases.\" On this the k\ufffdz\ufffd burst into a tirade\nagainst the brutal father who could thus traduce so much beauty,\nand vowed that he would make her his wife that same day. The\nlady, after expressing her fears that he would not find it easy\nto gain her father's consent, took her leave and returned home.\n\nThe k\ufffdz\ufffd lost no time in sending for the dyer, and, after\ncomplimenting him upon his reputation for piety, said to him, \"I\nam informed that behind the curtain of chastity you have a\ndaughter ripe for marriage. Is not this true?\" Replied the dyer,\n\"My lord, you have been rightly informed. I have a daughter who\nis indeed fully ripe for marriage, for she is more than thirty\nyears of age; but the poor creature is not fit to be a wife to\nany man. She is very ugly, lame, leprous, and foolish. In short,\nshe is such a monster that I am obliged to keep her out of all\npeople's sight.\" \"Ha!\" exclaimed the k\ufffdz\ufffd, \"you can't impose on\nme with such a tale. I was prepared for it. But let me tell you\nthat I myself am ready and willing to marry that same ugly and\nleprous daughter of yours, with all her defects.\" When the dyer\nheard this, he looked the k\ufffdz\ufffd full in the face and said, \"My\nlord, you are welcome to divert yourself by making a jest of my\ndaughter.\" No,\" replied the k\ufffdz\ufffd \"I am quite in earnest. I demand\nyour daughter in marriage.\" The dyer broke into laughter, saying,\n'By Allah, some one has meant to play you a trick, my lord. I\nforewarn you that she is ugly, lame, and leprous.\"  \"True,\"\nresponded the k\ufffdz\ufffd, with a knowing smile; \"I know her by these\ntokens. I shall take her notwithstanding.\" The dyer, seeing him\ndetermined to marry his daughter, and being now convinced that he\nhad been imposed upon by some ill-wisher, thought to himself, \"I\nmust demand of him a round sum of money which may cause him to\ncease troubling me any further about my poor daughter.\" So he\nsaid to the k\ufffdz\ufffd, \"My lord, I am ready to obey your command; but\nI will not part with my daughter unless you pay me beforehand a\ndowry of a thousand sequins.\" Replied the k\ufffdz\ufffd, \"Although,\nmethinks, your demand is somewhat exorbitant, yet I will pay you\nthe money at once.\" which having done, he ordered the contract to\nbe drawn up. But when it came to be signed the dyer declared that\nhe would not sign save in the presence of a hundred men of the\nlaw.  \"Thou art very distrustful,\" said the k\ufffdz\ufffd, \"but I will\ncomply in everything, for I am resolved to make sure of thy\ndaughter.\" So he sent for all the men of law in the city, and\nwhen they were assembled at the house of the k\ufffdz\ufffd, the dyer said\nthat he was now willing to sign the contract; \"But I declare,\" he\nadded, \"in the presence of these honourable witnesses, that I do\nso on the condition that if my daughter should not prove to your\nliking when you have seen her, and you should determine to\ndivorce her, you shall oblige yourself to give her a thousand\nsequins of gold in addition to the same amount which I have\nalready received from you. \"Agreed,\" said the k\ufffdz\ufffd, \"I oblige\nmyself to it, and call this whole assembly to be witnesses. Art\nthou now satisfied?\" \"I am,\" replied the dyer, who then went his\nway, saying that he would at once send him his bride.\n\nAs soon as the dyer was gone, the assembly broke up, and the k\ufffdz\ufffd\nwas left alone in his house. He had been two years married to the daughter\nof a merchant of Baghd\ufffdd, with whom he had hitherto lived on very\namicable terms. When she heard that he was arranging for a second\nmarriage, she came to him in a great rage. \"How now,\" said she,\n\"two hands in one glove! two swords in one scabbard! two wives in\none house! Go, fickle man! Since the caresses of a young and\nfaithful wife cannot secure your constancy, I am ready to yield\nmy place to my rival and retire to my own family. Repudiate me--\nreturn my dowry--and you shall never see me more.\" \"I am glad you\nhave thus anticipated me,\" answered the k\ufffdz\ufffd, \"for I was somewhat\nperplexed how to acquaint you of my new marriage.\" So saying, he\nopened a coffer and took out a purse of five hundred sequins of\ngold, and putting it into her hands, \"There, woman,\" said he,\n\"thy dowry is in that purse: begone, and take with you what\nbelongs to you. I divorce thee once; I divorce thee twice, three\ntimes I divorce thee. And that thy parents may be satisfied thou\nart divorced from me, I shall give thee a certificate signed by\nmyself and my nayb.\" This he did accordingly, and his wife went\nto her father's house, with her bill of divorce and her dowry.\n\nThe k\ufffdz\ufffd then gave orders to furnish an apartment sumptuously for\nthe reception of his bride. The floor was spread with velvet\ncarpets, the walls were hung with rich tapestry, and couches of\ngold and silver brocade were placed around the room. The bridal\nchamber was decked with caskets filled with the most exquisite\nperfumes. When everything was in readiness, the k\ufffdz\ufffd impatiently\nexpected the arrival of his bride, and at last was about to\ndespatch a messenger to the dyer's when a porter entered,\ncarrying a wooden chest covered with a piece of green taffeta.\n\"What hast thou brought me there, friend?\" asked the k\ufffdz\ufffd. \"My\nlord,\" replied the porter, setting the chest on the floor, \"I\nbring your bride.\" The k\ufffdz\ufffd opened the chest, and discovered a\nwoman of three feet and a half, defective in every limb and\nfeature. He was horrified at the sight of this object, and\nthrowing the covering hastily over it, demanded of the porter,\n\"What wouldst thou have me do with this frightful creature?\" \"My\nlord,\" said the porter, \"this is the daughter of Omar the dyer,\nwho told me that you had espoused her out of pure inclination.\"\n\"O Allah!\" exclaimed the k\ufffdz\ufffd, \"is it possible to marry such a\nmonster as this?\" Just then, the dyer, well knowing that the k\ufffdz\ufffd\nmust be surprised, came in. \"Thou wretch,\" cried the k\ufffdz\ufffd, \"how\ndost thou dare to trifle with me? In place of this hideous\nobject, send hither your other daughter, whose beauty is beyond\ncomparison; otherwise thou shalt soon know what it is to insult\nme.\" Quoth the dyer, \"My lord, I swear, by Him who out of\ndarkness produced light, that I have no other daughter but this.\nI told you repeatedly that she was not for your purpose, but you\nwould not believe my words. Who, then, is to blame?\" Upon this\nthe k\ufffdz\ufffd began to cool, and said so the dyer, \"I must tell you,\nfriend Omar, that this morning there came to me a most beautiful\ndamsel, who pretended that you were her father, and that you\nrepresented her to everybody as a monster, on purpose to deter\nall suitors that came to ask her in marriage.\" \"My lord,\"\nanswered the dyer, \"this beautiful damsel must be an impostor;\nsome one, undoubtedly, owes you a grudge.\" Then the k\ufffdz\ufffd, having\nreflected for a few minutes, said to the dyer, \"Bid the porter\ncarry thy daughter home again. Keep the thousand sequins of gold\nwhich I gave thee, but ask no more of me, if thou desirest that\nwe should continue friends.\" The dyer, knowing the implacable\ndisposition of the k\ufffdz\ufffd, thought it advisable to content himself\nwith what he had already gained, and the k\ufffdz\ufffd, having formally\ndivorced his hideous bride, sent her away with her father. The\naffair soon got wind in the city and everybody was highly\ndiverted with the trick practiced on the k\ufffdz\ufffd.\n\nIt will be observed that in the Arabian story there are two\nclever devices: that of the lady who tricks the boastful\nmerchant, whose motto was that men's craft is superior to women's\ncraft, into marrying the ugly daughter of the k\ufffdz\ufffd; and that of\nthe merchant to get rid of his bad bargain by disgusting the k\ufffdz\ufffd\nwith the alliance. The scene at the house of the worthy judge--\nthe crowd of low rascals piping, drumming, and capering, and\nfelicitating themselves on their pretended kinsman the merchant's\nmarriage--is highly humorous. This does not occur in the Persian\nstory, because it is the k\ufffdz\ufffd, who has been duped into marrying\nthe dyer's deformed daughter, and she is therefore simply packed\noff again to her father's house.\n\nThat the tales of the \"Thousand and One Days\" are not (as is\nsupposed by the writer of an article on the several English\nversions of The Nights in the \"Edinburgh Review\" for July 1886,\np. 167) mere imitations of Galland[FN#596] is most certain, apart\nfrom the statement in the preface to Petis' French translation,\nwhich there is no reason to doubt--see vol. x. of The Nights, p.\n166, note 1. Sir William Ouseley, in his Travels, vol. ii., p.\n21, note, states that he brought from Persia a manuscript which\ncomprised, inter alia, a portion of the \"Haz\ufffdr \ufffd Yek R\ufffdz,\" or the\nThousand and One Days, which agreed with Petis' translation of\nthe same stories. In the Persian collection entitled \"Shamsa \ufffd\nKuhkuha\" occur several of the tales and incidents, for example,\nthe Story of Nasiraddoli King of Mousel, the Merchant of Baghd\ufffdd,\nand the Fair Zeinib, while the Story of the King of Thibet and\nthe Princess of the Naimans has its parallel in the Turkish \"Kirk\nVaz\ufffdr,\" or Forty Vaz\ufffdrs. Again, the Story of Couloufe and the\nBeautiful Dilara reminds us of that of Haji the Cross-grained in\nMalcolm's \"Sketches of Persia.\" But of the French translation not\na single good word can be said--the Oriental \"costume\" and\nphraseology have almost entirely disappeared, and between Petis\nde la Croix and the author of \"Gil Blas\"--who is said to have had\na hand in the work--the tales have become ludicrously\nFrenchified. The English translation made from the French is, if\npossible, still worse. We there meet with \"persons of quality,\"\n\"persons of fashion,\" with \"seigneurs,\" and a thousand and one\nother inconsistencies and absurdities. A new translation is much\nto be desired. The copy of the Persian text made by Petis is\nprobably in the Paris Library and Ouseley's fragment is doubtless\namong his other Oriental MSS. in the Bodleian. But one should\nsuppose that copies of the \"Haz\ufffdr \ufffd Yek R\ufffdz\" may be readily\nprocured at Ispah\ufffdn or Tehr\ufffdn, and at a very moderate cost, since\nthe Persians now-a-days are so poor in general that they are\neager to exchange any books they possess for the \"circulating\nmedium.\"\n\n\n\n\n  NUR AL-DIN AND THE DAMSEL SITT AL-MILAH.--Vol. XII. p. 151.\n\n\n\nThis is an excellent tale; the incidents occur naturally and the\nreader's interest in the fortunes of the hero and heroine never\nflags. The damsel's sojourn with the old Muezzin--her dispatching\nhim daily to the shroff--bears some analogy to part of the tale\nof Ghanim the Slave of Love (vol. ii. of The Nights), which, by\nthe way, finds close parallels in the Turkish \"Forty Vaz\ufffdrs\" (the\nLady's 18th story in Mr. Gibb's translation), the Persian\n\"Thousand and One Days\" (story of Aboulcasem of Basra), and the\n\"Bagh o Bah\ufffdr\" (story of the First Dervish). This tale is, in\nfact, a compound of incidents occurring in a number of different\nArabian fictions.\n\n\n\n\n TALE OF KING INS BIN KAYS AND HIS DAUGHTER.--Vol. XII. p. 191.\n\n\n\nHere we have another instance of a youth falling in love with the\nportrait of a pretty girl (see ante, p. 328). The doughty deeds\nperformed by the young prince against thousands of his foes throw\ninto the shade the exploits of the Bedouin hero Antar, and those\nof our own famous champions Sir Guy of Warwick and Sir Bevis of\nHampton.\n\n\n\n\n                       ADDITIONAL NOTES.\n\n\n\n                  FIRUZ AND HIS WIFE, p. 301.\n\n\n\nI find yet another variant of this story in my small MS.\ncollection of Arabian and Persian anecdotes, translated from the\nFrench (I have not ascertained its source):\n\nThey relate that a lord of Basra, while walking one day in his\ngarden, saw the wife of his gardener, who was very beautiful and\nvirtuous. He gave a commission to his gardener which required him\nto leave his home. He then said to his wife, \"Go and shut all the\ndoors.\" She went out and soon returned, saying, \"I have shut all\nthe doors except one, which I am unable to shut.\" The lord asked,\n\"And where is that door?\" She replied \"That which is between you\nand the respect due to your Maker: there is no way of closing\nit.\" When the lord heard these words, he asked the woman's\npardon, and became a better and a wiser man.\n\nWe have here a unique form of the wide-spread tale of \"The Lion's\nTrack,\" which, while it omits the husband's part, yet reflects\nthe virtuous wife's rebuke of the enamoured sultan.\n\n\n\n\n              THE SINGER AND THE DRUGGIST, p. 305.\n\n\n\nIf Straparola's version is to be considered as an adaptation of\nSer Giovanni's novella-- which I do not think very probable--it\nmust be allowed to be an improvement on his model. In the Arabian\nstory the singer is first concealed in a mat, next in the oven,\nand again in the mat, after which he escapes by clambering over\nthe parapet of the druggist's roof to that of an adjoining house,\nand his subsequent adventures seem to be added from a different\nstory. In Ser Giovanni's version the lover is first hid beneath a\nheap of half-dried clothes, and next behind the street door, from\nwhich he escapes the instant the husband enters, and the latter\nis treated as a madman by the wife's relatives and the\nneighbours--an incident which has parallels in other tales of\nwomen's craft and its prototype, perhaps, in the story of the man\nwho compiled a book of the Wiles of Woman, as told in \"Syntipas,\"\nthe Greek version of the Book of Sindibad. In Straparola the\nlover--as in the Arabian story--is concealed three times, first\nin a basket, then between two boardings, and lastly in a chest\ncontaining law papers; and the husband induces him to recount his\nadventures in presence of the lady's friends, which having\nconcluded, the lover declares the story to be wholly fictitious:\nthis is a much more agreeable ending than that of Giovanni's\nstory, and, moreover, it bears a close analogy to the latter part\nof the Persian tale, where the lover exclaims he is right glad to\nfind it all a dream. Straparola's version has another point of\nresemblance in the Persian story--so far as can be judged from\nScott's abstract--and also in the Arabian story: the lover\ndiscovers the lady by chance, and is not advised to seek out some\nobject of love, as in Giovanni; in the Arabian the singer is\ncounselled by the druggist to go about and entertain wine\nparties. Story-comparers have too much cause to be dissatisfied\nwith Jonathan Scott's translation of the \"Bah\ufffdr-i- D\ufffdnish\"--a\nwork avowedly derived from Indian sources--although it is far\nsuperior to Dow's garbled version. The abstracts of a number of\nthe tales which Scott gives in an appendix, while of some use,\nare generally tantalising: some stories he has altogether omitted\n\"because they are similar to tales already well known\"\n(unfortunately the comparative study of popular fictions was\nhardly begun in his time); while of others bare outlines are\nfurnished, because he considered them \"unfit for general\nperusal.\" But his work, even as it is, has probably never been\n\"generally\" read, and he seems to have had somewhat vague notions\nof \"propriety,\" to judge by his translations from the Arabic and\nPersian. A complete English rendering of the \"Bah\ufffdr-i-D\ufffdnish\"\nwould be welcomed by all interested in the history of fiction.\n\n\n\n\n         THE FULLER, HIS WIFE AND THE TROOPER, p. 329.\n\n\n\nThe trick played on the silly fuller of dressing him up as a\nTurkish soldier resembles that of the Three Deceitful Women who\nfound a gold ring in the public bath, as related in the Persian\nstory-book, \"Shamsa \ufffd Kuhkuha:\"\n\nWhen the wife of the superintendent of police was apprised that\nher turn had come, she revolved and meditated for some time what\ntrick she was to play off on her lord, and after having come to a\nconclusion she said one evening to him, \"To-morrow I wish that we\nshould both enjoy ourselves at home without interruptions, and I\nmean to prepare some cakes.\" He replied, \"Very well, my dear; I\nhave also longed for such an occasion.\" The lady had a servant\nwho was very obedient and always covered with the mantle of\nattachment to her. The next morning she called this youth and\nsaid to him, \"I have long contemplated the hyacinth grove of thy\nsymmetrical stature; and I know that thou travellest constancy\nand faithfully on the road of compliance with all my wishes, and\nthat thou seekest to serve me. I have a little business which I\nwish thee to do for me.\" The servant answered, \"I shall be happy\nto comply. Then the lady gave him a thousand dinars and said, \"Go\nto the convent which is in our vicinity; give this money to one\nof the kalandars there and say to him, 'A prisoner whom the Am\ufffdr\nhad surrendered to the police has escaped last night. He closely\nresembles thee, and as the superintendent of the police is unable\nto account to the Am\ufffdr, he has sent a man to take thee instead of\nthe escaped criminal. I have compassion for thee and mean to\nrescue thee. Take this sum of money; give me thy dress; and flee\nfrom the town; for if thou remainest in it till the morning thou\nwilt be subjected to torture and wilt lose thy life.'\" The\nservant acted as he was bid, and brought the garments to his\nmistress. When it was morning she said to her husband, \"I know\nyou have long wished to eat sweetmeats, and I shall make some\nto-day.\" He answered, \"Very well.\" His wife made all her\npreparations and commenced to bake the sweetmeats. He said to\nher, \"Last night a theft was committed in a certain place, and I\nsat up late to extort confessions; and as I have spent a\nsleepless night, I feel tired and wish to repose a little.\" The\nlady replied, \"Very well.\"\n\nAccordingly the superintendent of the police reclined on the\npillow of rest; and when the sweetmeat was ready his wife took a\nlittle and putting an opiate into it she handed it to him,\nsaying, \"How long will you sleep? To-day is a day of feasting and\npleasure, not of sleep and laziness. Lift up your head and see\nwhether I have made the sweets according to your taste.\" He\nraised his head, swallowed a piece of the hot cake and lay down\nagain. The morsel was still in his throat when consciousness left\nand a deep sleep overwhelmed him. His wife immediately undressed\nhim and put on him the garments of the kalandar. The servant\nshaved his head and made some tattoo marks on his body. When the\nnight set in the lady called her servant and said, \"Hyacinth, be\nkind enough to take the superintendent on thy back, and carry him\nto the convent instead of that kalandar, and if he wishes to\nreturn to the house in the morning, do not let him.\" The servant\nobeyed. Towards dawn the superintendent recovered his senses a\nlittle; but as the opiate had made his palate very bitter, he\nbecame extremely thirsty. He fancied that he was in his own\nhouse, and so he exclaimed, \"Narcissus, bring water.\" The\nkalandars awoke from sleep, and after hearing several shouts of\nthis kind, they concluded that he was under the influence of\nbang, and said, \"Poor fellow! the narcissus is in the garden;\nthis is the convent of sufferers, and there are green garments\nenough here. Arise and sober thyself, for the morning and\nharbinger of benefits as well as of the acquisition of the\nvictuals for subsistence is approaching.\" When the superintendent\nheard these words he thought they were a dream, for he had not\nyet fully recovered his senses. He sat quietly, but was amazed on\nbeholding the walls and ceiling of the convent: he got up, looked\nat the clothes in which he was dressed and at the marks tattooed\non his body, and began to doubt whether he was awake or asleep.\nHe washed his face, and perceived that the caravan of his\nmustachios had likewise departed from the plain of his\ncountenance.\n\nIn this state of perplexity he went out of the convent and\nproceeded to his house. There his wife, with her male and female\nservants, was expecting his arrival. He approached the house and\nplaced his hand on the knocker of the door, but was received by\nHyacinth, who said, \"Kalandar, whom seekest thou?\" The\nsuperintendent rejoined, \"I want to enter the house.\" Hyacinth\ncontinued, \"Thou hast to-day evidently taken thy morning draught\nof bang earlier and more copiously than usual, since thou hast\nfoolishly mistaken the road to thy convent. Depart! This is not a\nplace in which vagabond kalandars are harboured. This is the\npalace of the superintendent of the police. and if the symurgh\nlooks with incivility from the fastness of the west of Mount K\ufffdf\nat this place, the wings of its impertinence will at once become\nsinged.\" The superintendent said, \"What nonsense art thou\nspeaking? Go out of my way, for I do not relish thy imbecile\nprattle.\" But when he wanted to enter, Hyacinth struck him with a\nbludgeon on the shoulder, which the superintendent returned with\na box on the ear, and both began to wrestle together. At that\nmoment the lady and her maid-servants rushed forth from the rear\nand assailed him with sticks and stones, shouting, \"This kalandar\nwishes in plain daylight to force his way into the house of the\nsuperintendent. What a pity that the superintendent is sick, or\nelse this crime would have to be expiated on the gallows!\" In the\nmeantime all the neighbours assembled, and on seeing the\nshameless kalandar's proceedings they cried, \"Look at that\nimpudent kalandar who wants forcibly to enter the house of the\nsuperintendent.\" Ultimately the crowd amounted to more than five\nhundred persons, and the gentleman was put to flight and pursued\nby all the little boys, who pelted him with stones till they\nexpelled him from the town.\n\nAt the distance of three farsangs from the town there was a\nvillage where the superintendent concealed himself in the corner\nof a mosque. During the evenings he went from house to house and\nbegged for food to sustain life, until his mustachios again grew\nand the tattooed scars gradually began to disappear. Whenever\nanyone inquired for the superintendent at his house, he was\ninformed by the servants that the gentleman was sick. After one\nmonth had expired, the grief of separation and the misery of his\ncondition had again driven him back to the city. He went to the\nconvent because fear hindered him from going to the house. His\nwife happened one day to catch a glimpse of him from her window,\nand perceived him sitting in the same dress with a company of\nkalandars. She felt compassion for him, called the servant and\nsaid, \"The superintendent has had enough of this!\" She made a\nloaf of bread and put some opiate into it, and said, \"When the\nkalandars are asleep, you must go and place this loaf under the\npillow of the superintendent.\" The servant obeyed, and when the\ngentleman awoke in the middle of the night he was surprised to\nfind the loaf. He fancied that when his companions had during the\nnight returned from begging, they had placed it there, and so he\nate some of it. During the same night the servant went there by\nthe command of the lady, took his master on his back and carried\nhim home. When it was morning, the lady took off the kalandar's\nclothes from her husband and dressed him in his own garments, and\nbegan to make sweetmeats as on the former occasion. After some\ntime he began to move, and his wife exclaimed, \"O superintendent,\ndo not sleep so much. I have told you that we shall spend this\nday in joy and pleasure, and it was not fair of you to pass the\ntime in this lazy way. Lift up your head and see what beautiful\nsweetmeats I have baked for you.\" When he opened his eyes, and\nsaw himself dressed in his own clothes and at home, the rosebush\nof his amazement again brought forth the flowers of astonishment,\nand he said, \"God be praised! What has happened to me?\" He sat\nup, and exclaimed, \"Wife, things have happened to me which I can\nscarcely describe.\" She replied, \"From the uneasy motions which\nyou have made in your sleep, it appears you must have had\nextraordinary dreams.\" \"Dreams, forsooth,\" said he, \"since the\nmoment I lay down I have experienced the most strange\nadventures.\" \"Certainly,\" rejoined the lady, \"last night you have\nbeen eating food disagreeing with your constitution, and to-day\nthe vapours of it have ascended into your brains, and have caused\nyou all this distress.\" The superintendent said, \"Yes last night\nwe went to a party in the house of Serjeant Bahman, and there was\nroasted pillau, of which I ate somewhat more than usual, and the\nvapour of it has occasioned me all this trouble.\"[FN#597]\n\nStrikingly similar to this story is the trick of the first lady\non her husband in the \"Fabliau des Trois Dames qui trouverent un\nAnel.\" Having made him drunk, she causes his head to be shaved,\ndresses him in the habit of a monk, and carries him, assisted by\nher lover, to the entrance of a convent. When he awakes and sees\nhimself thus transformed he imagines that God by a miraculous\nexercise of His grace had called him to the monastic life. He\npresents himself before the abbot and requests to be received\namong the brethren. The lady hastens to the convent in\nwell-feigned despair, and is exhorted to be resigned and to\ncongratulate her husband on the saintly vow he has taken. \"Many a\ngood man, ' says the poet, \"has been betrayed by woman and by her\nharlotry. This one became a monk in the abbey, where he abode a\nvery long time. Wherefore, I counsel all people who hear this\nstory told, that they ought not to trust in their wives, nor in\ntheir households, if they have not first proved that they are\nfull of virtues. Many a man has been deceived by women and by\ntheir treachery. This one became monk against right, who would\nnever have been such in his life, if his wife had not deceived\nhim.''[FN#598]\n\nThe second lady's trick in the fabliau is a very close parallel\nto the story in The Nights, vol. v. p. 96.[FN#599] She had for\ndinner on a Friday some salted and smoked eels, which her husband\nbade her cook, but there was no fire in the house. Under the\npretext of going to have them cooked at a neighbour's fire she\ngoes out and finds her lover, at whose house she remains a whole\nweek. On the following Friday, at the hour of dinner, she enters\na neighbour's house and asks leave to cook the eels, saying that\nher husband is angry with her for having no fire, and that she\ndid not dare to go back, lest he should take off her head. As\nsoon as the eels are cooked she carries them piping hot to her\nown house. The husband asks her where she has been for eight\ndays, and commences to beat her. She cries for help and the\nneighbours come in, and amongst them the one at whose fire the\neels had been cooked, who swears that the wife had only just left\nher house and ridicules the husband for his assertion that she\nhad been away a whole week. The husband gets into a great rage\nand is locked up for a madman.\n\nThe device of the third lady seems a reflection of the\n\"Elopement,\" but without the underground tunnel between the\nhouses of the wife and the lover. The lady proposes to her lover\nto marry him, and he believes that she is only jesting, seeing\nthat she is already married, but she assures him that she is\nquite in earnest, and even undertakes that her husband will\nconsent. The lover is to come for her husband and take him to the\nhouse of Dan Eustace, where he has a fair niece, whom the lover\nis to pretend he wishes to espouse, if he will give her to him.\nThe wife will go thither, and she will have done her business\nwith Eustace before they arrive. Her husband cannot but believe\nthat he has left her at home, and she will be so apparelled that\nhe cannot recognise her. This plan is accordingly carried out.\nThe lover asks the husband for the hand of his niece in marriage,\nto which he joyously consents, and without knowing it makes a\npresent of his own wife. \"All his life long the lover possessed\nher, because the husband gave and did not lend her; nor could he\never get her back.\"\n\nLe Grand mentions that this fabliau is told at great length in\nthe tales of the Sieur d'Ouville, tome iv. p. 255. In the\n\"Faceti\ufffd Bebelian\ufffd,\" p. 86, three women wager which of them will\nplay the best trick on her husband. One causes him to believe he\nis a monk, and he goes and sings mass, the second husband\nbelieved himself to be dead, and allows himself to be carried to\nthat mass on a bier; and the third sings in it quite naked.\n(There is a very similar story in Campbell's \"Popular Tales of\nthe West Highlands.\") It is also found, says Le Grand, in the\n\"Convivales Sermones,\" tome i. p. 200, in the \"Delices de\nVerboquet,\" p. 166; and in the Faceti\ufffd of Lod. Dom\ufffdnichi, p. 172.\nIn the \"Contes pour Rire,\" p. 197, three women find a diamond, and\nthe arbiter whom they select promises it, as in the fabliau, to\nher who concocts the best device for deceiving her husband, but\ntheir ruses are different.\n\n\n\nEnd of Supplemental Nights Volume 2.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                   Arabian Nights, Volume 12\n                           Footnotes\n\n\n\n[FN#1] Bresi. Edit., vol. xi. pp. 321-99, Nights dccccxxx-xl.\n\n[FN#2] Arab. \"Ikl\ufffdm\" from the Gr. {kl\ufffdma}, often used as amongst\nus (e.g. \"other climes\") for land.\n\n[FN#3] Bibars whose name is still famous and mostly pronounced\n\"Baybars,\" the fourth of the Baharite Mamelukes whom I would call\nthe \"Soldans.\" Originally a slave of Al-S\ufffdlih, seventh of the\nAyyubites, he rose to power by the normal process, murdering his\npredecessor, in A. D. 1260; and he pushed his conquests from\nSyria to Armenia. In his day \"Saint\" Louis died before Tunis (A.\nD. 1270).\n\n[FN#4] There are sundry S\ufffdhils or shore-lands. \"Sahil Misr\" is\nthe River-side of Cairo often extended to the whole of Lower\nEgypt (vol. i. 290): here it means the lowlands of Palestine once\nthe abode of the noble Philistines; and lastly the term extends\nto the sea-board of Zanzibar, where, however, it is mostly used\nin the plur. \"Saw\ufffdhil\"=the Shores.\n\n[FN#5] Arab. \"Samm\ufffdr\" (from Samar, = conversatio nocturna), = the\nstory-teller who in camp or house whiles away the evening hours.\n\n[FN#6] \"Flag of the Faith:\" Sanjar in old Persian=a Prince, a\nKing.\n\n[FN#7] \"Aider of the Faith.\"\n\n[FN#8] These policemen's tales present a curious contrast with\nthe detective stories of M. Gaboriau and his host of imitators.\nIn the East the police, like the old Bow Street runners, were and\nare still recruited principally amongst the criminal classes on\nthe principle of \"Set a thief,\" &c. We have seen that the\nBarmecide Wazirs of Baghdad \"anticipated Fourier's doctrine of\nthe passionel treatment of lawless inclinations,\" and employed as\nsubordinate officers, under the Wali or Prefect of Police,\naccomplished villains like Ahmad al-Danaf (vol. iv. 75), Hasan\nShuuman and Mercury Ali (ibid.) and even women (Dalilah the\nCrafty) to coerce and checkmate their former comrades. Moreover a\ngird at the police is always acceptable, not only to a\ncoffee-house audience, but even to a more educated crowd; witness\nthe treatment of the \"Charley\" and the \"Bobby\" in our truly\nEnglish pantomimes.\n\n[FN#9] i.e. the Chief of Police, as the sequel shows.\n\n[FN#10] About \u00a34.\n\n[FN#11] i.e. of the worlds visible and invisible.\n\n[FN#12] Arab. \"Mukaddam:\" see vol. iv, 42.\n\n[FN#13] \"Faithful of Command;\" it may be a title as well as a P.\nN. For \"Al-Am\ufffdn,\" see vol. iv. 261.\n\n[FN#14] i. e. \"What have I to do with, etc.?\" or \"How great is\nthe difference between me and her.\" The phrase is still popular\nin Egypt and Syria; and the interrogative form only intensifies\nit. The student of Egyptian should always try to answer a\nquestion by a question. His labours have been greatly facilitated\nby the conscientious work of my late friend Spitta Bey. I tried\nhard to persuade the late Rogers Bey, whose knowledge of Egyptian\nand Syrian (as opposed to Arabic) was considerable, that a simple\ngrammar of Egyptian was much wanted; he promised to undertake it,\nbut death cut short the design.\n\n[FN#15] Arab. \"Naww\ufffdb,\" plur. of N\ufffdib (lit. deputies,\nlieutenants)=a Nabob. Till the unhappy English occupation of\nEgypt, the grand old Kil'ah (Citadel) contained the palace of the\nPasha and the lodgings and offices of the various officials.\nForeign rulers, if they are wise, should convert it into a fort\nwith batteries commanding the town, like that of Hyderabad, in\nSind.\n\n[FN#16] For this famous and time-honoured building, see vol. i.\n269.\n\n[FN#17] Arab. \"Tamk\ufffdn,\" gravity, assurance.\n\n[FN#18] Arab. \" Iy\ufffdl-hu\" lit. his family, a decorous\ncircumlocution for his wives and concubines.\n\n[FN#19] Arab. \"Darb,\" lit. a road; here a large thoroughfare.\n\n[FN#20] When Mohammed Ali Pasha (the \"Great\") began to rule, he\nfound Cairo \"stifled\" with filth, and gave orders that each\nhouseholder, under pain of confiscation, should keep the street\nbefore his house perfectly clean. This was done after some\nexamples had been made and the result was that since that time\nCairo never knew the plague. I am writing at Tangier where a\nMohammed Ali is much wanted.\n\n[FN#21] i.e. Allah forfend!\n\n[FN#22] Arab. \"Mustauda'\" = a strong place where goods are\ndeposited and left in charge.\n\n[FN#23] Because, if she came to grief, the people of the street,\nand especially those of the adjoining houses would get into\ntrouble. Hence in Moslem cities, like Damascus and Fez, the H\ufffdr\ufffdt\nor quarters are closed at night with strong wooden doors, and the\nguards will not open them except by means of a silver key.\nMohammed Ali abolished this inconvenience, but fined and\nimprisoned all night-walkers who carried no lanterns. See\nPilgrimage, vol. i. 173,\n\n[FN#24] As Kazi of the quarter he was ex-officio guardian of the\norphans and their property, and liable to severe punishment\n(unless he could pay for the luxury) in case of fraud or neglect.\n\n[FN#25] Altogether six thousand dinars = \ufffd3000. This sentence is\nborrowed from the sequel and necessary to make the sense clear.\n\n[FN#26] i.e. \"I am going at once to complain of thee before the\nking unless thou give me due satisfaction by restoring the money\nand finding the thief.\"\n\n[FN#27] The Practice (of the Prophet) and the Holy Law (Koranic):\nsee vols. v. 36, 167 and i. 169.\n\n[FN#28] In the corrupt text \"Who knew me not;\" thus spoiling the\npoint.\n\n[FN#29] Arab. \"Maut Ahmar\" = violent or bloody death. For the\nvarious coloured deaths, see vol. vi. 250.\n\n[FN#30] i.e. for lack of sleep.\n\n[FN#31] i.e. of the Kazi.\n\n[FN#32] Arab. \"Mub\ufffdh,\" in the theologic sense, an action which is\nnot sinful (har\ufffdm) or quasi-sinful (makr\ufffdh); vulgarly \"permitted,\nallowed\"; so Shahrazad \"ceased to say her say permitted\" (by\nShahryar).\n\n[FN#33] Arab. \"Y\ufffd Khawand\"; see vol. vii. 315.\n\n[FN#34] i.e. we both make different statements equally credible,\nbut without proof, and the case will go against me, because thou\nart the greater man.\n\n[FN#35] Arab. \"Irtiy\ufffdd\" = seeking a place where to stale, soft and\nsloping, so that the urine spray may not defile the dress. All\nthis in one word!\n\n[FN#36] Arab. \"Bah\ufffdr,\" the red buphthalmus sylvester often used\nfor such comparisons. In Algeria it is called 'Ar\ufffdwah: see the\nJardin Parfum\ufffd, p. 245, note 144.\n\n[FN#37] i.e. parties.\n\n[FN#38] i.e. amongst men.\n\n[FN#39] Almost as neat as \"o\ufffd sont les neiges d'autan?\"\n\n[FN#40] Arab. \" \ufffdd\ufffd,\" one transgressing, an enemy, a scoundrel.\n\n[FN#41] It was probably stuck in the ground like an amphora.\n\n[FN#42] i.e. hush up the matter.\n\n[FN#43] In Egypt; the former being the Eastern of the Seven\nProvinces extending to the Pelusium branch, and the latter to the\nCanobic. The \"Bar\ufffdri\" or deserts, i.e. grounds not watered by the\nNile, lie scattered between the two and both are bounded South by\nthe Kal\ufffdb\ufffdyah Province and Middle Egypt.\n\n [FN#44] i.e. a man ready of wit and immediate of action, as\nopposed to his name Al-Atwash = one notable for levity of mind.\n\n[FN#45] The negative is emphatic, \"I certainly saw a Jew,\" etc.\n\n[FN#46] The \"Irish bull\" is in the text; justified by--\n\n          They hand-in-hand, with wand'ring steps and slow\n          Through Eden took their solitary way,\n\n[FN#47] As we should say, \"There are good pickings to be had out\nof this job.\" Even in the last generation a Jew or a Christian\nintriguing with an Egyptian or Syrian Moslemah would be offered\nthe choice of death or Al-Islam. The Wali dared not break open\nthe door because he was not sure of his game.\n\n[FN#48] The Jew rose seemingly to fetch his valuables and ran\naway, thus leaving the Wali no proof that he had been there in\nMoslem law which demands ocular testimony, rejects circumstantial\nevidence and ignores such partial witnesses as the policeman who\naccompanied his Chief. This I have before explained.\n\n[FN#49] Arab. \"Raba',\" lit. = spring-quarters. See Marba', iii. 79.\n\n[FN#50] Arab. \"Ni'am,\" an exception to the Abb\ufffd Sicard's rule.\n\"La consonne N est l'expression naturelle du doute chez toutes\nles nations, par ce que le son que rend la touche nasale, quand\nl'homme incertain examine s'il fera ce qu'on lui demande; ainsi\nNE ON, NE OT, NE EC, NE IL, d'o\ufffd l'on a fait non, not, nec, nil.\n\n[FN#51] For this \"Hal\ufffdwat al-Mift\ufffdh,\" or sweetmeat of the\nkey-money, the French denier a Dieu, Old English \"God's penny,\"\nsee vol. vii. 212, and Pilgrimage i. 62.\n\n[FN#52] Showing that car. cop. had taken place. Here we find the\nirregular use of the inn, perpetuated in not a few of the monster\nhotels throughout Europe.\n\n[FN#53] For its rules and right performance see vol. vi. 199.\n\n[FN#54] i.e. the \"Basil(issa),\" mostly a servile name, see vol.\ni. 19.\n\n[FN#55] Arab. \"La'alla,\" used to express the hope or expectation\nof some event of possible occurrence; thus distinguished from\n\"Layta\" --Would heaven! utinam! O si! etc.-- expressing desire or\nvolition.\n\n[FN#56] Arab. \"Bal\ufffdt,\" in Cairo the flat slabs of limestone and\nsandstone brought from the Turah quarries, which supplied stone\nfor the J\ufffdzah Pyramids.\n\n[FN#57] Arab. \"Y\ufffd Mu'arras!\" here = O fool and disreputable; see\nvol. i. 338.\n\n[FN#58] These unfortunates in hot climates enjoy nothing so much\nas throwing off the clothes which burn their feverish skins: see\nPilgrimage iii. 385. Hence the boys of Eastern cities, who are\nperfect imps and flibbertigibbets, always raise the cry \"Majn\ufffdn\"\nwhen they see a man naked whose sanctity does not account for his\nnudity.\n\n[FN#59] Arab. \"Daur al-K\ufffd'ah\" = the round opening made in the\nceiling for light and ventilation.\n\n[FN#60] Arab. \"La-nakhsifanna\" with the emphatic termination\ncalled by grammarians \"N\ufffdn al-taakid\"--the N of injunction. Here\nit is the reduplicated form, the Nun al-Sak\ufffdlah or heavy N. The\naddition of L\ufffd (not) e.g. \"L\ufffd yazrabanna\" = let him certainly not\nstrike answers to the intensive or corroborative negative of the\nGreek effected by two negations or even more. In Arabic as in\nLatin and English two negatives make an affirmative.\n\n[FN#61] Parturition and death in warm climates, especially the\ndamp-hot like Egypt are easy compared with both processes in the\ntemperates of Europe. This is noticed by every traveller. Hence\nprobably Easterns have never studied the artificial Euthanasia\nwhich is now appearing in literature. See p. 143 \"My Path to\nAtheism,\" by Annie Besant, London: Freethought Publishing\nCompany, 28, Stonecutter Street, E. C., 1877, based upon the\nUtopia of the highly religious Thomas Moore. Also \"Essay on\nEuthanasia,\" by P. D. Williams, Jun., and Mr. Tollemache in the\n\"Nineteenth Century.\"\n\n[FN#62] i.e. he whose turn it is to sit on the bench outside the\npolice-office in readiness for emergencies.\n\n[FN#63] Arab. \"'Ud\ufffdl\" (plur. of '\ufffddil), gen. men of good repute,\nqualified as witnesses in the law-court, see vol. iv. 271. It is\nalso used (as below) for the Kazi's Assessors.\n\n[FN#64] About \ufffd80.\n\n[FN#65] Arab. \"Kit\ufffdb\" = book, written bond. This officiousness of\nthe neighbours is thoroughly justified by Moslem custom; and the\nsame scene would take place in this our day. Like the Hind\ufffd's,\nbut in a minor degree, the Moslem's neighbours form a volunteer\npolice which oversees his every action. In the case of the Hind\ufffd\nthis is required by the exigencies of caste, an admirable\ninstitution much bedevilled by ignorant Mlenchhas, and if\n\"dynamiting\" become the fashion in England, as it threatens to\nbecome, we shall be obliged to establish \"Vigilance Committees\"\nwhich will be as inquisitorial as caste\n\n[FN#66] e.g. writing The contract of A. with B., daughter of\nSuch-an-one, etc.\n\n[FN#67] Arab. \"Hujjat,\" which may also mean an excuse.\n\n[FN#68] The last clause is supplied by Mr. Payne to stop a gap in\nthe broken text.\n\n[FN#69] The text idiotically says \"To the King.\"\n\n[FN#70] In the text \"Nahnu\"=we, for I, a common vulgarism in\nEgypt and Syria.\n\n[FN#71] This clause has required extensive trimming; the text\nmaking the Notary write out the contract (which was already\nwritten) in the woman's house.\n\n[FN#72] Arab. \"Husn tadb\ufffdr\" = lit. \"beauty of his contrivance.\"\nHusn, like {kal\ufffds}, pulcher, beau and bello, is applied to moral and\nintellectual qualities as well as to physical and material. Hence\nthe {kal\ufffd g\ufffdroon} or old gentleman which in Romaic becomes Calogero, a\nmonk.\n\n[FN#73] i.e. that some one told me the following tale.\n\n[FN#74] Arab. \"Mutawall\ufffd\": see vol. i. 259.\n\n[FN#75] i.e. his Moslem neighbours.\n\n[FN#76] In the text is a fearful confusion of genders.\n\n[FN#77] Her object was to sue him for the loss of the pledge and\nto demand fabulous damages.\n\n[FN#78] Arab. \"Ya'tamid\ufffdna hud\ufffd-hum\" = purpose the right direction,\na skit at the devotees of her age and sex; and an impudent\ncomment upon the Prefect's address \"O she-devil!\"\n\n[FN#79] The trick has often been played in modern times at fairs,\nshows, etc. Witness the old Joe Miller of the \"Moving Multitude.\"\n\n[FN#80] Apparently meaning the forbidden pleasures of wine and\nwassail, loose talk and tales of women's wiles, a favourite\nsubject with the lewder sort of Moslem.\n\n[FN#81] i.e. women's tricks.\n\n[FN#82] The \"Turkoman\" in the text first comes in afterwards.\n\n[FN#83] Arab. \"K\ufffdsid,\" the old Anglo-lndian \"Cossid\"; see vol.\nvii. 340.\n\n[FN#84] Being a merchant he wore dagger and sword, a safe\npractice as it deters attack and far better than carrying hidden\nweapons, derringers and revolvers which, originating in the\nUnited States, have now been adopted by the most civilised\nnations in Europe.\n\n[FN#85] I have noted (vol. ii. 186, iv. 175) the easy expiation\nof perjury amongst Moslems, an ugly blot in their moral code.\n\n[FN#86] i.e. Enter in the name of Allah.\n\n[FN#87] i.e. Damn your soul for leading me into this danger!\n\n[FN#88] Arab. \"Saff Kamar\ufffdy\ufffdt min al-Zuj\ufffdj.\" The Kamar\ufffdyah is\nderived by Lane (Introd. M.E.) from Kamar=moon; by Baron Von\nHammer from Khum\ufffdrawayh, second of the Banu-Tul\ufffdn dynasty, at the\nend of the ixth century A.D., when stained glass was introduced\ninto Egypt. N.B.--It must date from many centuries before. The\nKamariyah are coloured glass windows about 2 feet high by 18\ninches wide, placed in a row along the upper part of the\nMashrab\ufffdyah or projecting lattice-window, and are formed of small\npanes of brightly-stained glass set in rims of gypsum-plaster,\nthe whole framed in wood. Here the allusion is to the \"Mamrak\" or\ndome-shaped skylight crowning the room. See vol. viii. 156.\n\n[FN#89] i.e. easily arrested them.\n\n[FN#90] The reader will not forget the half-penitent Captain of\nBandits in Gil Blas.\n\n[FN#91] Arab. \"Abt\ufffdl\" = champions, athletes, etc., plur. of Batal,\na brave: so Batalat = a virago. As the root Batala = it was vain, the\nform \"Batt\ufffdl\" may mean either a hero or a bad lot: see vol. viii.\n335; x. 74,75.\n\n[FN#92] Arab. \"Fity\ufffdn;\" plur. of Fat\ufffd; see vol. i, 67.\n\n[FN#93] This was in popular parlance \"adding insult to injury:\"\nthe blackening their faces was a promise of Hell-fire.\n\n[FN#94] Arab. \"Shayyan li 'll\ufffdh!\" lit.=(Give me some) Thing for\n(the love of) Allah. The answer in Egypt. is \"Allah\nya't\ufffdk:\"=Allah will give it thee (not I), or, \"Yaftah 'Allah,\"=\nAllah open (to thee the door of subsistence): in Marocco \"Sir f\ufffd\nh\ufffdlik\" (pron. Sirf h\ufffdk)= Go about thy business. In all cities\nthere is a formula which suffices the asker; but the Ghash\ufffdm\n(Johny Raw) who ignores it, is pestered only the more by his\nprotestations that \"he left his purse at home,\" etc.\n\n[FN#95] i.e. engaged her for a revel and paid her in advance.\n\n[FN#96] Arab. \"Ras\ufffdlah\"=a (she) partner, to accompany her on the\nlute.\n\n[FN#97] Suggesting that they are all thieves who had undergone\nlegal mutilation.\n\n[FN#98] Arab. \"Nuzhat-\ufffd:\" see vol. ii. 81.\n\n[FN#99] Arab. \"Muhattak\ufffdt;\" usually \"with torn veils\" (fem.\nplur.) here \"without veils,\" metaphor. meaning in disgrace, in\ndishonour.\n\n[FN#100] For this reedy Poa, see vol. ii. 18.\n\n[FN#101] I have repeatedly noticed that singing and all music\nare, in religious parlance, \"Makr\ufffdh,\" blameable though not\nactually damnable; and that the first step after \"getting\nreligion\" is to forswear them.\n\n[FN#102] i.e. to find the thief or make good the loss.\n\n[FN#103] i.e. the claimants.\n\n[FN#104] Arab. \"Sakiyah:\" see vol. i. 123.\n\n[FN#105] The lower orders of Egypt and Syria are addicted to this\nbear-like attack; so the negroes imitate fighting-rams by butting\nwith their stony heads. Let me remark that when Herodotus (iii.\n12), after Psammenitus' battle of Pelusium in B.C. 524, made the\nremark that the Egyptian crania were hardened by shaving and\ninsolation and the Persians were softened by wearing head-cloths,\nhe tripped in his anthropology. The Iranian skull is naturally\nthin compared with that of the negroid Egyptian and the negro.\n\n[FN#106] Arab. \"Farkalah,\" {phrag\ufffdllion} from flagellum; cattle-whip\nwith leathern thongs. Lane, M.E.; Fleischer Glos. 83-84; Dozy\ns.v.\n\n[FN#107] This clause is supplied to make sense.\n\n[FN#108] i.e. to crucify him by nailing him to an upright board.\n\n[FN#109] i.e. a native of the Hauran, Job's country east of\nDamascus, now a luxuriant waste, haunted only by the plundering\nBadawin and the Druzes of the hills, who are no better; but its\nstretches of ruins and league-long swathes of stone over which\nthe vine was trained, show what it has been and what it will be\nagain when the incubus of Turkish mis-rule shall be removed from\nit. Herr Schuhmacher has lately noted in the Hauran sundry Arab\ntraditions of Job; the village Naw\ufffd, where he lived; the Hammam\n'Ayy\ufffdb, where he washed his leprous skin; the Dayr Ayy\ufffdb, a\nmonastery said to date from the third century; and the Makan\nAyyub at Al-Mark\ufffdz, where the semi-mythical patriarch and his\nwife are buried. The \"Rock of Job\", covered by a mosque, is a\nbasaltic monolith 7 feet high by 4, and is probably connected\nwith the solar worship of the old Ph\ufffdnicians.\n\n[FN#110] This habit \"torquere mero,\" was a favourite with the\nmedi\ufffdval Arabs. Its effect varies greatly with men's characters,\nmaking some open-hearted and communicative, and others more\ncunning and secretive than in the normal state. So far it is an\nexcellent detection of disposition, and many a man who passes off\nwell when sober has shown himself in liquor a rank snob.\nAmong the lower orders it provokes what the Persians call\nBad-mast\ufffd (le vin m\ufffdchant) see Pilgrimage iii. 385.\n\n[FN#111] This mystery is not unfamiliar to the modern\n\"spiritualist;\" and all Eastern tongues have a special term for\nthe mysterious Voice. See vol. i. 142.\n\n[FN#112] Arab. \"Alaykum:\" addressed to a single person. This is\ngenerally explained by the \"Salam\" reaching the ears of Invisible\nControls, and even the Apostle. We find the words cruelly\ndistorted in the Pentamerone of Giambattista Basile (partly\ntranslated by John E. Taylor, London: Bogue, 1848), \"The Prince,\ncoming up to the old woman heard an hundred Licasalemme,\" p. 383.\n\n[FN#113] Arab. \"Al-Zalamah\"; the policeman; see vol. vi. 214.\n\n[FN#114] i.e. in my punishment.\n\n[FN#115] i.e. on Doomsday thou shalt get thy deserts.\n\n[FN#116] i.e. what I could well afford.\n\n[FN#117] Arab. Hirfah=a trade, a guild, a corporation: here the\nofficers of police.\n\n[FN#118] Gen. \"tip-cat\" (vol. ii. 314.) Here it would mean a rude\nform of tables or backgammon, in which the players who throw\ncertain numbers are dubbed Sultan and Wazir, and demean\nthemselves accordingly. A favourite bit of fun with Cairene boys\nof a past generation was to \"make a Pasha;\" and for this\nproceeding, see Pilgrimage, vol. i. 119.\n\n[FN#119] In Marocco there is great difficulty about finding an\nexecutioner who becomes obnoxious to the Th\ufffdr, vendetta or\nblood-revenge. For salting the criminal's head, however, the\nsoldiers seize upon the nearest Jew and compel him to clean out\nthe brain and to prepare it for what is often a long journey.\nHence, according to some, the local name of the Ghetto,\nAl-Mall\ufffdh,=the salting-ground.\n\n[FN#120] Mr. Payne suspects that \"laban,\" milk, esp. artificially\nsoured (see vol. vi, 201), is a clerical error for \"jubn\"=cheese.\nThis may be; but I follow the text as the exaggeration is greater\n\n[FN#121] i.e. in relinquishing his blood-wite for his brother.\n\n[FN#122] The Story-teller, probably to relieve the monotony of\nthe Constables' histories, here returns to the original cadre. We\nmust not forget that in the Bresl. Edit. the Nights are running\non, and that the charming queen is relating the adventure of\nAl-Malik al-Zahir.\n\n[FN#123] Arab. \"Za'amu\"=they opine, they declare, a favourite\nterm with the Bresl. Edit.\n\n[FN#124] Arab. \"Zirtah\" the coarsest of terms for what the French\nnuns prettily termed un sonnet; I find ung sonnet also in Nov.\nii. of the Cent nouvelles Nouvelles. Captain Lockett (p. 32)\nquotes Strepsiades in The Clouds {bront\ufffd komid\ufffd papp\ufffdx} \"because he cannot\nexpress the bathos of the original (in the Tale of Ja'afar and\nthe old Badawi) without descending to the oracular language of\nGiacoma Rodogina, the engastrymythian prophetess.\" But Sterne was\nby no means so squeamish. The literature of this subject is\nextensive, beginning with \"Peteriana, ou l'art de peter,\" which\ndistinguishes 62 different tones. After dining with a late friend\nen gar\ufffdon we went into his sitting-room and found on the table 13\nbooks and booklets upon the Crepitus Ventris, and there was some\nastonishment as not a few of the party had never seen one.\n\n[FN#125] This tale is a replica of the Cranes of Ibycus. This was\na Rhegium man who when returning to Corinth, his home, was set\nupon by robbers and slain. He cast his dying eyes heavenwards and\nseeing a flight of cranes called upon them to avenge him and this\nthey did by flying over the theatre of Corinth on a day when the\nmurderers were present and one cried out, \"Behold the avengers of\nIbycus!\" Whereupon they were taken and put to death. So says\nPaulus Hieronymus, and the affecting old tale has newly been sung\nin charming verse by Mr. Justin H. McCarthy (\"Serapion.\" London:\nChatto and Windus).\n\n[FN#126] This scene is perfectly true to Badawi life; see my\nPilgrimage iii. 68.\n\n[FN#127] Arab. \"Durr\ufffdj\": so it is rendered in the French\ntranslation of Al-Masudi, vii. 347.\n\n[FN#128] A fair friend found the idea of Destiny in The Nights\nbecome almost a night-mare. Yet here we suddenly alight upon the\ntrue Johnsonian idea that conduct makes fate. Both extremes are\nas usual false. When one man fights a dozen battles unwounded and\nanother falls at the first shot we cannot but acknowledge the\npresence of that mysterious \"luck\" whose laws, now utterly\nunknown to us, may become familiar with the ages. I may note that\nthe idea of an appointed hour beyond which life may not be\nprolonged, is as old as Homer (Il. vi. 487).\n\nThe reader has been told (vol. vii. 135) that \"Kaz\ufffd\" is Fate in a\ngeneral sense, the universal and eternal Decree of Allah, while\n\"Kadar\" is its special and particular application to man's lot,\nthat is Allah's will in bringing forth events at a certain time\nand place. But the former is popularly held to be of two\ncategories, one Kaz\ufffd al-Muham which admits of modification and\nKaz\ufffd al-Muhkam, absolute and unchangeable, the doctrine of\nirresistible predestination preached with so much energy by St.\nPaul (Romans ix. 15-24); and all the world over men act upon the\nformer while theoretically holding to the latter. Hence \"Chinese\nGordon\" whose loss to England is greater than even his friends\nsuppose, wrote \"It is a delightful thing to be a fatalist,\"\nmeaning that the Divine direction and pre-ordination of all\nthings saved him so much trouble of forethought and afterthought.\nIn this tenet he was not only a Calvinist but also a Moslem whose\ncontradictory ideas of Fate and Freewill (with responsibility)\nare not only beyond Reason but are contrary to Reason; and\nalthough we may admit the argumentum ad verecundiam, suggesting\nthat there are things above (or below) human intelligence, we are\nnot bound so to do in the case of things which are opposed to the\ncommon sense of mankind. Practically, however, the Moslem\nattitude is to be loud in confessing belief of \"Fate and Fortune\"\nbefore an event happens and after it wisely to console himself\nwith the conviction that in no way could he have escaped the\noccurrence. And the belief that this destiny was in the hands of\nAllah gives him a certain dignity especially in the presence of\ndisease and death which is wanting in his rival religionist the\nChristian. At the same time the fanciful picture of the Turk\nsitting stolidly under a shower of bullets because Fate will not\nfind him out unless it be so written is a freak of fancy rarely\nfound in real life.\n\nThere are four great points of dispute amongst the schoolmen in\nAl-Islam; (1) the Unity and Attributes of Allah, (2) His promises\nand threats, (3) historical as the office of Im\ufffdm; and (4)\nPredestination and the justice thereof. On the latter subject\nopinions range over the whole cycle of possibilities. For\ninstance, the Mu'tazilites, whom the learned Weil makes the\nProtestants and Rationalists of Al-Islam, contend that the word\nof Allah was created in subjecto, ergo, an accident and liable to\nperish, and one of their school, the K\ufffddiriyah ( = having power)\ndenies the existence of Fate and contends that Allah did not\ncreate evil but left man an absolutely free agent. On the other\nhand, the Jabariyah (or Mujabbar = the compelled) is an absolute\nFatalist who believes in the omnipotence of Destiny and deems\nthat all wisdom consists in conforming with its decrees.\nAl-Mas'udi (chapt. cxxvii.) illustrates this by the saying of a\nMoslem philosopher that chess was the invention of a Mu'tazil,\nwhile Nard (backgammon with dice) was that of a Mujabbar proving\nthat play can do nothing against Destiny. Between the two are the\nAshariyah; trimmers whose stand-point is hard to define; they\nwould say, \"Allah creates the power by which man acts, but man\nwills the action,\" and care not to answer the query, \"Who created\nthe will ?\" (See Pocock, Sale and the Dabistan ii. 352). Thus\nSa'adi says in the Gulistan (iii. 2), \"The wise have pronounced\nthat though daily bread be allotted, yet it is so conditionally\nupon using means to acquire it, and although calamity be\npredestined, yet it is right to secure oneself against the\nportals by which it may have access.\" Lastly, not a few doctors\nof Law and Religion hold that Kaza al-Muhkam, however absolute,\nregards only man's after or final state; and upon this subject\nthey are of course as wise as other people, and--no wiser. Lane\nhas treated the Moslem faith in Destiny very ably and fully\n(Arabian Nights, vol. i. pp. 58-61), and he being a man of\nmoderate and orthodox views gives valuable testimony.\n\n[FN#129] Arab. \"Shaykh al-Hujj\ufffdj.\" Some Santon like Hasan al-\nMar\ufffdbit, then invoked by the Meccan pilgrims: see Pilgrimage, i.\n321. It can hardly refer to the famous Hajj\ufffdj bin Y\ufffdsuf al-Sakaf\ufffd\n(vol. iv. 3).\n\n[FN#130] Here the Stories of the Sixteen Constables abruptly end,\nafter the fashion of the Bresl. Edit. They are summarily\ndismissed even without the normal \"Bakhsh\ufffdsh.\"\n\n[FN#131] Bresl. Edit. vol xi. pp. 400-473 and vol. xii. pp. 4-50,\nNights dccccxli.-dcccclvii. For Kashghar, see vol. i. 255.\n\n[FN#132] Mr. Payne proposes to translate \"'Anbar\" by amber, the\nsemi-fossilised resin much used in modern days, especially in\nTurkey and Somaliland, for bead necklaces. But, as he says, the\nsecond line distinctly alludes to the perfume which is sewn in\nleather and hung about the neck, after the fashion of our ancient\npomanders (pomme d' ambre).\n\n[FN#133] i.e. The Caliph: see vol. i. p. 50.\n\n[FN#134] Arab. \"Adab :\" see vol. i. 132, etc. In Moslem dialects\nwhich borrow more or less from Arabic, \"B\ufffd-adab\ufffd\" = being without Adab, means rudeness, disrespect, \"impertinence\" (in its modern\nsense).\n\n[FN#135] i.e. Isaac of Mosul, the greatest of Arab musicians: see\nvol. iv. 119.\n\n[FN#136] The elder brother of Ja'afar, by no means so genial or\nfitted for a royal frolic. See Terminal Essay.\n\n[FN#137] Ibn Hab\ufffdb, a friend of Isaac, and a learned grammarian\nwho lectured at Basrah.\n\n[FN#138] A suburb of Baghdad, mentioned by Al Mas'\ufffddi.\n\n[FN#139] Containing the rooms in which the girl or girls were\nsold. See Pilgrimage i. 87.\n\n[FN#140] Dozy quotes this passage but cannot explain the word\nFaww\ufffdk.\n\n[FN#141] \"A passage has apparently dropped out here. The Khalif\nseems to have gone away without buying, leaving Ishac behind,\nwhereupon the latter was accosted by another slave-girl, who came\nout of a cell in the corridor.\" So says Mr. Payne. vol. ii. 207.\nThe \"raiser of the veil\" means a fitting purchaser.\n\n[FN#142] i.e. \"Choice gift of the Fools,\" a skit upon the girl's\nname \"Tohfat al-Kul\ufffdb\" = Choice gift of the Hearts. Her folly\nconsisted in refusing to be sold at a high price, and this is\noften seen in real life. It is a Pundonor amongst good Moslems\nnot to buy a girl and not to sleep with her, even when bought,\nagainst her will.\n\n[FN#143] \"Every one cannot go to Corinth.\" The question makes the\nassertion emphatic.\n\n[FN#144] i.e. The Narrows of the (Dervishes') convent.\n\n[FN#145] Arab. \"Akw\ufffd min dahni 'l-lauz.\" These unguents have been\nused in the East from time immemorial whilst the last generation\nin England knew nothing of anointing with oil for incipient\nconsumption. A late friend of mine, Dr. Stocks of the Bombay\nEstablishment, and I proposed it as long back as 1845; but in\nthose days it was a far cry from Sind to London.\n\n[FN#146] The sequel will explain why she acted in this way.\n\n[FN#147] i.e. Thou hast made my gold piece (10 shill.) worth only\na doit by thy superiority in the art and mystery of music.\n\n[FN#148] Arab. \"Uadd\ufffdki,\" Taadiyah (iid. of Ad\ufffd, he assisted)\nmeans sending, forwarding. In Egypt and Syria we often find the\nform \"Waddi\" for Addi, imperative.\n\n[FN#149] Again \"he\" for \"she\".\n\n[FN#150] i.e. Honey and wine.\n\n[FN#151] i.e. he died.\n\n[FN#152] i.e. if my hand had lost its cunning.\n\n[FN#153] Arab. \"Thiy\ufffdb 'Am\ufffddiyah\": 'Amud = tent prop or column, and\nKhatt 'Am\ufffdd = a perpendicular line.\n\n[FN#154] i.e. a choice gift. The Caliph speaks half ironically.\n\"Where's this wonderful present etc?\" So further on when he\ncompares her with the morning.\n\n[FN#155] Again the usual pun upon the name.\n\n[FN#156] Throughout the East this is the action of a servant or a\nslave, practised by freemen only when in danger of life or\nextreme need and therefore humiliating.\n\n[FN#157] It had been thrown down from the Mamrak or small dome\nbuilt over such pavilions for the purpose of light by day and\nventilation by night. See vol. i. 257, where it is called by the\nPersian term \"B\ufffddhanj.\"\n\n[FN#158] The Nights have more than once applied this patronymic\nto Zubaydah. See vol. viii. 56, 158.\n\n[FN#159] Arab. \"Mutahaddis\ufffdn\" = novi homines, upstarts.\n\n[FN#160] i.e. thine auspicious visits.\n\n[FN#161] He being seated on the carpet at the time.\n\n[FN#162] A quotation from Al-Farazdat who had quarrelled with his\nwife Al-How\ufffdr (see the tale in Ibn Khallikan, i. 521), hence \"the\nnaked intercessor\" became proverbial for one who cannot be\nwithstood.\n\n[FN#163] i.e. Choice Gift of the Breasts, that is of hearts, the\ncontinens for the contentum.\n\n[FN#164] Pron. \"Abuttaw\ufffdif,\" the Father of the (Jinn-)tribes. It\nis one of the Moslem Satan's manifold names, alluding to the\nnumber of his servants and worshippers, so far agreeing with that\namiable Christian doctrine, \"Few shall be saved.\"\n\n[FN#165] Mr. Payne supplies this last clause from the sequence.\n\n[FN#166] i.e. \"Let us go,\" with a euphemistic formula to defend\nher from evil influences. Iblis uses the same word to prevent her\nbeing frightened.\n\n[FN#167] Arab. \"Al-Mustar\ufffdh,\" a favourite haunting place of the\nJinn, like the Hamm\ufffdm and other offices for human impurity. For\nits six names Al-Khal\ufffd, Al-Hushsh, Al-Mutawazz\ufffd, Al-Kan\ufffdf,\nAl-Mustar\ufffdh, and Mirh\ufffdz, see Al-Mas'udi, chap. cxxvii., and\nShir\ufffdshi's commentary to Hariri's 47, Assembly.\n\n[FN#168] Which, in the East, is high and prominent whilst the\ncantle forms a back to the seat and the rider sits as in a baby's\nchair. The object is a firm seat when fighting: \"across country\"\nit is exceedingly dangerous.\n\n[FN#169] In Swedenborg's \"Arcana C\ufffdlestia\" we read, \"When man's\ninner sight is opened, which is that of his spirit; then there\nappear the things of another life which cannot be made visible to\nthe bodily sight.\" Also \"Evil spirits, when seen by eyes other\nthan those of their infernal associates, present themselves by\ncorrespondence in the beast (fera) which represents their\nparticular lust and life, in aspect direful and atrocious.\" These\nare the Jinns of Northern Europe.\n\n[FN#170] This exchange of salams was a sign of her being in\nsafety.\n\n[FN#171] Arab. \"Shaw\ufffdhid,\" meaning that heart testifies to heart.\n\n[FN#172] i.e. A live coal, afterwards called Zalzalah, an\nearthquake; see post p. 105. \"Wakh\ufffdmah\" = an unhealthy land, and\n\"Shar\ufffdrah\" = a spark.\n\n[FN#173] I need hardly note the inscriptions upon the metal trays\nsold to Europeans. They are usually imitation words so that\ninfidel eyes may not look upon the formul\ufffd of prayer; and the\nsame is the case with table-cloths, etc., showing a fancy Tohgra\nor Sultanic sign-manual.\n\n[FN#174] i.e. I cannot look at them long.\n\n[FN#175] Evidently a diabolical way of clapping his hands in\napplause. This description of the Foul Fiend has an element of\ngrotesqueness which is rather Christian than Moslem.\n\n[FN#176] Arab. \"Rikk\ufffd al-Saut,\" which may also mean either \"lower\nthy voice,\" or \"change the air to one less touching.\"\n\n[FN#177] \"Your\" for \"thy.\"\n\n[FN#178] i.e. written on the \"Guarded Tablet\" from all eternity.\n\n[FN#179] Arab. \"Al-'Urs w'al-Tuh\ufffdr\" which can only mean, \"the\nwedding (which does not drop out of the tale) and the\ncircumcision.\"\n\n[FN#180] I here propose to consider at some length this curious\ncustom which has prevailed amongst so many widely separated\nraces. Its object has been noted (vol. v. 209), viz. to diminish\nthe sensibility of the glans, no longer lubricated with prostatic\nlymph; thus the part is hardened against injury and disease and\nits work in coition is prolonged. On the other hand, \"pr\ufffdputium\nin coitu voluptatem (of the woman) auget, unde femina pr\ufffdputiatis\nconcubitum malunt quam cum Turcis ac Jud\ufffdis \" says Dimerbroeck\n(Anatomie). I vehemently doubt the fact. Circumcision was\ndoubtless practised from ages immemorial by the peoples of\nCentral Africa, and Welcker found traces of it in a mummy of the\nxvith century B.C. The Jews borrowed it from the Egyptian\npriesthood and made it a manner of sacrament, \"uncircumcised\"\nbeing = \"unbaptised,\" that is, barbarian, heretic; it was a seal of\nreconciliation, a sign of alliance between the Creator and the\nChosen People, a token of nationality imposed upon the body\npolitic. Thus it became a cruel and odious protestation against\nthe brotherhood of man, and the cosmopolitan Romans derided the\nverp\ufffd ac verpi. The Jews also used the term figuratively as the\n\"circumcision of fruits\" (Lev. xix. 23), and of the heart (Deut.\nx. 16); and the old law gives copious historical details of its\norigin and continuance. Abraham first amputated his horny\n\"calotte\" at \ufffdt. 99, and did the same for his son and household\n(Gen. xvii. 24-27). The rite caused a separation between Moses\nand his wife (Exod. iv. 25). It was suspended during the Desert\nWanderings and was resumed by Joshua (v. 3-7), who cut off two\ntons weight of prepuces. The latter became, like the scalps of\nthe Scythians and the North-American \"Indians,\" trophies of\nvictory; Saul promised his daughter Michol to David for a dowry\nof one hundred, and the son-in-law brought double tale.\n\nAmongst the early Christians opinions concerning the rite\ndiffered. Although the Founder of Christianity was circumcised,\nSt. Paul, who aimed at a cosmopolitan faith discouraged it in the\nphysical phase. St. Augustine still sustained that the rite\nremoved original sin despite the Fathers who preceded and\nfollowed him, Justus, Tertullian, Ambrose and others. But it\ngradually lapsed into desuetude and was preserved only in the\noutlying regions. Paulus Jovius and Munster found it practised in\nAbyssinia, but as a mark of nobility confined to the descendants\nof \"Nicaules, queen of Sheba.\" The Abyssinians still follow the\nJews in performing the rite within eight days after the birth and\nbaptise boys after forty and girls after eighty days. When a\ncircumcised man became a Jew he was bled before three witnesses\nat the place where the prepuce had been cut off and this was\ncalled the \"Blood of alliance.\" Apostate Jews effaced the sign of\ncircumcision: so in 1 Matt. i. 16, fecerunt sibi pr\ufffdputia et\nrecesserunt a Testamento Sancto. Thus making prepuces was called\nby the Hebrews Meshookim = recutiti{s}, and there is an allusion to\nit in 1 Cor. vii. 18, 19, {m\ufffd episp\ufffdsthai} (Farrar, Paul ii. 70). St.\nJerome and others deny the possibility; but Mirabeau (Akropodie)\nrelates how Father Conning by liniments of oil, suspending\nweights, and wearing the virga in a box gained in 43 days 7\ufffd\nlines. The process is still practiced by Armenians and other\nChristians who, compelled to Islamise, wish to return to\nChristianity. I cannot however find a similar artifice applied to\na circumcised clitoris. The simplest form of circumcision is mere\namputation of the prepuce and I have noted (vol. v. 209) the\ndifference between the Moslem and the Jewish rite, the latter\naccording to some being supposed to heal in kindlier way. But the\nvarieties of circumcision are immense. Probably none is more\nterrible than that practiced in the Province Al-As\ufffdr, the old\nOphir, lying south of Al-Hij\ufffdz, where it is called Salkh,\nlit. = scarification. The patient, usually from ten to twelve years\nold, is placed upon raised ground holding m right hand a spear,\nwhose heel rests upon his foot and whose point shows every\ntremour of the nerves. The tribe stands about him to pass\njudgment on his fortitude, and the barber performs the operation\nwith the Jumbiyah-dagger, sharp as a razor. First he makes a\nshallow cut, severing only the skin across the belly immediately\nbelow the navel, and similar incisions down each groin; then he\ntears off the epidermis from the cuts downwards and flays the\ntesticles and the penis, ending with amputation of the foreskin.\nMeanwhile the spear must not tremble and in some clans the lad\nholds a dagger over the back of the stooping barber, crying, \"Cut\nand fear not!\" When the ordeal is over, he exclaims, \"Allaho\nAkbar!\" and attempts to walk towards the tents soon falling for\npain and nervous exhaustion, but the more steps he takes the more\napplause he gains. He is dieted with camel's milk, the wound is\ntreated with salt and turmeric, and the chances in his favour are\nabout ten to one. No body-pile or pecten ever grows upon the\nexcoriated part which preserves through life a livid ashen hue.\nWhilst Mohammed Ali Pasha occupied the province he forbade\n\"scarification\" under pain of impalement, but it was resumed the\nmoment he left Al-Asir. In Africa not only is circumcision\nindigenous, the operation varies more or less in the different\ntribes. In Dahome it is termed Addagwibi, and is performed\nbetween the twelfth and twentieth year. The rough operation is\nmade peculiar by a double cut above and below; the prepuce being\ntreated in the Moslem, not the Jewish fashion (loc. cit.). Heated\nsand is applied as a styptic and the patient is dieted with\nginger-soup and warm drinks of ginger-water, pork being\nespecially forbidden. The Fantis of the Gold Coast circumcise in\nsacred places, e.g., at Accra on a Fetish rock rising from the\nsea. The peoples of Sennaar, Taka, Masawwah and the adjacent\nregions follow the Abyssinian custom. The barbarous Bissagos and\nFellups of North Western Guinea make cuts on the prepuce without\namputating it; while the Baquens and Papels circumcise like\nMoslems. The blacks of Loango are all \"verp\ufffd,\" otherwise they\nwould be rejected by the women. The Bantu or Caffre tribes are\ncircumcised between the ages of fifteen and eighteen; the \"Fetish\nboys,\" as we call them, are chalked white and wear only grass\nbelts; they live outside the villages in special houses under an\nold \"medicine-man,\" who teaches them not only virile arts but\nalso to rob and fight. The \"man-making\" may last five months and\nends in f\ufffdtes and dances: the patients are washed in the river,\nthey burn down their quarters, take new names, and become adults,\ndonning a kind of straw thimble over the prepuce. In Madagascar\nthree several cuts are made causing much suffering to the\nchildren; and the nearest male relative swallows the prepuce. The\nPolynesians circumcise when childhood ends and thus consecrate\nthe fecundating organ to the Deity. In Tahiti the operation is\nperformed by the priest, and in Tonga only the priest is exempt.\nThe Maories on the other hand fasten the prepuce over the glans,\nand the women of the Marquesas Islands have shown great cruelty\nto shipwrecked sailors who expose the glans. Almost all the known\nAustralian tribes circumcise after some fashion: Bennett supposes\nthe rite to have been borrowed from the Malays, while Gason\nenumerates the \"Kurrawellie wonkauna\" among the five mutilations\nof puberty. Leichhardt found circumcision about the Gulf of\nCarpentaria and in the river-valleys of the Robinson and\nMacarthur: others observed it on the Southern Coast and among\nthe savages of Perth, where it is noticed by Salvado. James\nDawson tells us \"Circumciduntur pueri,\" etc., in Western\nVictoria. Brough Smyth, who supposes the object is to limit\npopulation (?), describes on the Western Coast and in Central\nAustralia the \"Corrobery\"-dance and the operation performed with\na quartz-flake. Teichelmann details the rite in Southern\nAustralia where the assistants--all men, women, and children\nbeing driven away--form a \"manner of human altar\" upon which the\nyouth is laid for circumcision. He then receives the normal two\nnames, public and secret, and is initiated into the mysteries\nproper for men. The Australians also for Malthusian reasons\nproduce an artificial hypospadias, while the Karens of New Guinea\nonly split the prepuce longitudinally (Cosmos p. 369, Oct. 1876);\nthe indigens of Port Lincoln on the West Coast split the virga:--\nFenditur usque ad urethram a parte infera penis between the ages\nof twelve and fourteen, says E. J. Eyre in 1845. Missionary\nSch\ufffdrmann declares that they open the urethra. Gason describes in\nthe Dieyerie tribe the operation 'Kulpi\" which is performed when\nthe beard is long enough for tying. The member is placed upon a\nslab of tree-bark, the urethra is incised with a quartz-flake\nmounted in a gum handle and a splinter of bark is inserted to\nkeep the cut open. These men may appear naked before women who\nexpect others to clothe themselves. Miklucho Maclay calls it\n\"Mika\" in Central Australia: he was told by a squatter that of\nthree hundred men only three or four had the member intact in\norder to get children, and that in one tribe the female births\ngreatly outnumbered the male. Those mutilated also marry: when\nmaking water they sit like women slightly raising the penis, this\nin coition becomes flat and broad and the semen does not enter\nthe matrix. The explorer believes that the deed of kind is more\nquickly done (?). Circumcision was also known to the New World.\nHerrera relates that certain Mexicans cut off the ears and\nprepuce of the newly born child, causing many to die. The Jews\ndid not adopt the female circumcision of Egypt described by Huet\non Origen--\"Circumcisio feminarum fit resectione {t\ufffds nymph\ufffds}           (sive\nclitoridis) qu\ufffd pars in Australium mulieribus ita crescit ut\nferro est co\ufffdrcenda.\" Here we have the normal confusion between\nexcision of the nymph\ufffd (usually for fibulation) and circumcision\nof the clitoris. Bruce notices this clitoridectomy among the\nAbyssinians. Werne describes the excision on the Upper White Nile\nand I have noted the complicated operation among the Somali\ntribes. Girls in Dahome are circumcised by ancient sages femmes,\nand a woman in the natural state would be derided by every one\n(See my Mission to Dahome, ii. 159) The Australians cut out the\nclitoris, and as I have noted elsewhere extirpate the ovary for\nMalthusian purposes (Journ Anthrop. Inst., vol. viii. of 1884).\n\n[FN#181] Arab. \"Kayraw\ufffdn\" which is still the common name for\ncurlew; the peewit and plover being called (onomatopoetically)\n\"B\ufffdbat\" and in Marocco Yah\ufffddi, certain impious Jews having been turned into the Vanellus Cristatus which still wears the black skullcap of the Hebrews.\n\n[FN#182] Arab. \"Saw\ufffdki,\" the leats which irrigate the ground and are opened and closed with the foot.\n\n[FN#183] The eighth (in altitude) of the many-storied Heavens.\n\n[FN#184] Arab. \"Ihramat li al-Sal\ufffdt,\" i.e. she pronounced the\nformula of Intention (Niyat) without which prayer is not valid, ending with Allaho Akbar = Allah is All-great. Thus she had clothed herself, as it were, in prayer and had retired from the world pro temp.\n\n[FN#185] i.e.. the prayers of the last day and night which she\nhad neglected while in company with the Jinns. The Hammam is not a pure place to pray in; but the Farz or Koranic orisons should be recited there if the legal term be hard upon its end.\n\n[FN#186] Slaves, male as well as female, are as fond of talking over their sale as European dames enjoy looking back upon the details of courtship and marriage.\n\n[FN#187] Arab. \"Du'\ufffd,\" = supplication, prayer, as opposed to\n\"Sal\ufffdt\" = divine worship, \"prayers.\" For the technical meaning of the latter see vol. iv. 65. I have objected to Mr. Redhouse's distinction without a difference between Moslems' worship and prayer: voluntary prayers are not prohibited to them and their praises of the Lord are mingled, as amongst all worshippers, with petitions.\n\n[FN#188] Al-Muzfir = the Twister; Zaf\ufffdir al-Jinn = Adiantum capillus veneris. L\ufffdl\ufffdah = The Pearl, or Wild Heifer; see vol. ix. 218.\n\n[FN#189] Arab. \"Bi jildi 'l-baker.\" I hope that captious critics will not find fault with my rendering, as they did in the case of Fals ahmar = a red cent, vol. i. 321.\n\n[FN#190] Arab. \"Far\ufffdsah\" = lit. knowing a horse. Arabia abounds in tales illustrating abnormal powers of observation. I have noted this in vol. viii. 326.\n\n[FN#191] i.e. the owner of this palace.\n\n[FN#192] She made the Ghusl not because she had slept with a man, but because the impurity of Satan's presence called for the major ablution before prayer.\n\n[FN#193] i.e. she conjoined the prayers of nightfall with those of dawn.\n\n[FN#194] i.e. those of midday, mid-afternoon and sunset.\n\n[FN#195] Arab. \"Sahb\ufffd\" red wine preferred for the morning\ndraught.\n\n[FN#196] The Apostle who delighted in women and perfumes. Persian poetry often alludes to the rose which, before white, was dyed red by his sweat.\n\n[FN#197] For the etymology of Juln\ufffdr--Byron's \"Gulnare\"--see vol. vii. 268. Here the rhymer seems to refer to its origin; Gul (Arab. Jul) in Persian a rose; and An\ufffdr, a pomegranate, which in Arabic becomes N\ufffdr = fire.\n\n[FN#198] i.e. \"The brilliant,\" the enlightened.\n\n[FN#199] i.e. the moral beauty.\n\n[FN#200] A phenomenon well known to spiritualists and to \"The\nHouse and the Haunter.\" An old Dutch factory near Hungarian Fiume is famed for this mode of \"obsession\": the inmates hear the sound of footfalls, etc., behind them, especially upon the stairs; and see nothing.\n\n[FN#201] The two short Koranic chapters, The Daybreak (cxiii.)\nand The Men (cxiv. and last) evidently so called from the   words which occur in both (versets i., \"I take refuge with\"). These \"Ma'\ufffdzat\ufffdni,\" as they are called, are recited as talismans or preventives against evil, and are worn as amulets inscribed on parchment; they are also often used in the five canonical prayers. I have translated them in vol. iii. 222.\n\n[FN#202] The antistes or fugleman at prayer who leads off the\norisons of the congregation; and applied to the Caliph as the\nhead of the faith. See vol. ii. 203 and iv. 111.\n\n[FN#203] Arab. \" 'Umm\ufffdr\" i.e. the Jinn, the \"spiritual creatures\" which walk this earth, and other non-humans who occupy it.\n\n[FN#204] A parallel to this bodiless Head is the Giant Face,\nwhich appears to travellers (who expect it) in the Lower Valley of the Indus. See Sind Re-visited, ii. 155.\n\n[FN#205] Arab. \"Ghal\ufffdl\ufffd\" = my yearning.\n\n[FN#206] Arab. \"Ahb\ufffdbu-n\ufffd\" plur. for singular = my beloved.\n\n[FN#207] i.e. her return.\n\n[FN#208] Arab. \"Arja'\" lit. return! but here meaning to stop. It is much used by donkey-boys from Cairo to Fez in the sense of \"Get out of the way.\" Hence the Spanish arre! which gave rise to arriero = a carrier, a muleteer.\n\n[FN#209] Arab. \"Afras\" lit.=a better horseman.\n\n[FN#210] A somewhat crippled quotation from Koran lvi. 87-88, \"As for him who is of those brought near unto Allah, there shall be for him easance and basil and a Garden of Delights (Na'\ufffdm).\"\n\n[FN#211] i.e. Queen Sunbeam.\n\n[FN#212] See vol. i. 310 for this compound perfume which contains musk, ambergris and other essences.\n\n[FN#213] I can hardly see the sequence of this or what the\ncarpets have to do here.\n\n[FN#214] Here, as before, some insertion has been found\nnecessary.\n\n[FN#215] Arab. \"Dukh\ufffdlak\" lit.=thy entering, entrance, becoming familiar.\n\n[FN#216] Or \"And in this there shall be to thee great honour over all the Jinn.\"\n\n[FN#217] Mr. Payne thus amends the text, \"How loathly is yonder Genie Meimoun! There is no eating (in his presence);\" referring back to p. 88.\n\n[FN#218] i.e. \"I cannot bear to see him!\"\n\n[FN#219] This assertion of dignity, which is permissible in\nroyalty, has been absurdly affected by certain \"dames\" in\nAnglo-Egypt who are quite the reverse of queenly; and who degrade \"dignity\" to the vulgarest affectation.\n\n[FN#220] i.e. \"May thy visits never fail me!\"\n\n[FN#221] i.e. Ash-coloured, verging upon white.\n\n[FN#222] i.e. \"She will double thy store of presents.\"\n\n[FN#223] The Arab boy who, unlike the Jew, is circumcised long\nafter infancy and often in his teens, thus making the ceremony\nconform after a fashion with our \"Confirmation,\" is displayed\nbefore being operated upon, to family and friends; and the seat is a couch covered with the richest tapestry. So far it resembles the bride-throne.\n\n[FN#224] Tohfah.\n\n[FN#225] i.e. Hindu, Indian.\n\n[FN#226] Japhet, son of Noah.\n\n[FN#227] Mr. Payne translates \"Take this and glorify thyself\nwithal over the people of the world.\" His reading certainly makes\nbetter sense, but I do not see how the text can carry the\nmeaning. He also omits the bussing of the bosom, probably for\nartistic reasons.\n\n[FN#228] A skit at Ish\ufffdk, making the Devil praise him. See vol.\nvii. 113.\n\n[FN#229] Arab. \"Maw\ufffdzi\" (plur. of Mauza')=lit. places, shifts,\npassages.\n\n[FN#230] The bed (farsh), is I presume, the straw-spread (?)\nstore-room where the apples are preserved.\n\n[FN#231] Arab. \"Farkh warak\", which sounds like an atrocious\nvulgarism.\n\n[FN#232] The Moss-rose; also the eglantine, or dog-rose, and the\nsweet-briar, whose leaf, unlike other roses, is so odorous.\n\n[FN#233] The lily in Heb., derived by some from its six (shash)\nleaves, and by others from its vivid cheerful brightness. \"His\nlips are lilies\" (Cant. v. 13), not in colour, but in odoriferous\nsweetness.\n\n[FN#234] The barber is now the usual operator; but all operations\nbegan in Europe with the \"barber-surgeon.\"\n\n[FN#235] Sic in text xii. 20. It may be a misprint for Ab\ufffd\nal-Tawaif, but it can also mean \"O Shaykh of the Tribes (of\nJinns)!\"\n\n[FN#236] The capital of King Al-Shisban.\n\n[FN#237] Arab \"Fajj\", the Spanish \"Vega\" which, however, means a mountain-plain, a plain.\n\n[FN#238] i.e. I am quite sure: emphatically.\n\n[FN#239] i.e. all the Jinn's professions of affection and\npromises of protection were mere lies.\n\n[FN#240] In the original this apodosis is wanting: see vol. vi. 203, 239.\n\n[FN#241] Arab. \"D\ufffdhiyat al-Daw\ufffdh\ufffd;\" see vol. ii. 87.\n\n[FN#242] Arab. \"Al-Jabal al-Mukawwar\"= Cha\ufffdne de montagnes de\nforme demi circulaire, from Kaur, a park, an enceinte.\n\n[FN#243] Arab. \"R\ufffdh\ufffd\" lit. my breath, the outward sign of life.\n\n[FN#244] i.e. K\ufffdf.\n\n[FN#245] i.e. A bit of burning charcoal.\n\n[FN#246] Arab. \"Al-yad al-bayz\ufffd,\"=lit. The white hand: see vol. iv. 185.\n\n[FN#247] Showing the antiquity of \"Apr\ufffds moi le d\ufffdluge,\" the fame of all old politicians and aged statesmen who can expect but a few years of life. These \"burning questions\" (e.g. the Bulgarian) may be smothered for a time, but the result is that they blaze forth with increased violence. We have to thank Lord Palmerston (an Irish landlord) for ignoring the growth of Fenianism and another aged statesman for a sturdy attempt to disunite the United Kingdom. An old notion wants young blood at its head.\n\n[FN#248] Suggesting the nursery rhyme:\n\n          Fee, fo, fum\n          I smell the blood of an Englishman.\n\n[FN#249] i.e. why not at once make an end of her.\n\n[FN#250] The well-known war-cry.\n\n[FN#251] Lit. \"Smoke\" pop. applied, like our word, to tobacco.\nThe latter, however, is not here meant.\n\n[FN#252] Arab. \"Ghur\ufffdb al-bayn,\" of the wold or of parting. See\nvol. vii. 226.\n\n[FN#253] Arab. \"Hal\ufffdwah\"; see vol. iv. 60.\n\n[FN#254] Here the vocative particle \"Y\ufffd\" is omitted.\n\n[FN#255] Lit. \"The long-necked (bird)\" before noticed with the\nRukh (Roc) in vol. v. 122. Here it becomes a Princess, daughter of Bahr\ufffdm-i-G\ufffdr (Bahram of the Onager, his favourite game), the famous Persian king in the fifth century, a contemporary of Theodosius the younger and Honorius. The \"Ank\ufffd\" is evidently the Iranian S\ufffdmurgh.\n\n[FN#256] \"Chamber\" is becoming a dangerous word in English. Roars of laughter from the gods greeted the great actor's declamation, \"The bed has not been slept in! Her little chamber is empty!\"\n\n[FN#257] Choice Gift of the breast (or heart).\n\n[FN#258] From the Calc. Edit. (1814\u009618), Nights cxcvi.\ufffdcc., vol. ii., pp. 367\ufffd378. The translation has been compared and collated with that of Langl\ufffds (Paris, 1814), appended to his Edition of the Voyages of Sindbad. The story is exceedingly clever and well deserves translation.\n\n[FN#259] It is regretable that this formula has not been\npreserved throughout The Nights: it affords, I have noticed, a\npleasing break to the long course of narrative.\n\n[FN#260] Arab. \"Ban\ufffdt-al-haw\ufffd\" lit. daughters of love, usually\nmeaning an Anonyma, a fille de joie; but here the girl is of good repute, and the offensive term must be modified to a gay,\nfrolicsome lass.\n\n[FN#261] Arab. \"Jabhat,\" the lintel opposed to the threshold.\n\n[FN#262] Arab. \"Ghatt\ufffd,\" still the popular term said to a child showing its nakedness, or a lady of pleasure who insults a man by displaying any part of her person.\n\n[FN#263] She is compared with a flashing blade (her face) now\ndrawn from its sheath (her hair) then hidden by it.\n\n[FN#264] The \"Muajjalah\" or money paid down before consummation was about \ufffd25; and the \"Mu'ajjalah\" or coin to be paid contingent on divorce was about \ufffd75. In the Calc. Edit ii. 371, both dowers are \ufffd35.\n\n[FN#265] i.e. All the blemishes which justify returning a slave to the slave-dealer.\n\n[FN#266] Media: see vol. ii. 94. The \"Daylamite prison\" was one of many in Baghdad.\n\n[FN#267] See vol. v. 199. I may remark that the practice of\nbathing after copulation was kept up by both sexes in ancient\nRome. The custom may have originated in days when human senses\nwere more acute. I have seen an Arab horse object to be mounted by the master when the latter had not washed after sleeping with a woman.\n\n[FN#268] On the morning after a happy night the bridegroom still\noffers coffee and Halw\ufffd to friends.\n\n[FN#269] i.e. More bewitching.\n\n[FN#270] Arab. \"Shar\ufffdf\ufffd\" more usually Ashrafi, the Port. Xerafim,\na gold coin = 6s.\u00967s.\n\n[FN#271] The oft-repeated Koranic quotation.\n\n[FN#272] Arab. \"'Irk\": our phrase is \"the apple of the eye.\"\n\n[FN#273] Meaning that he was a Sayyid or a Shar\ufffdf.\n\n[FN#274] i.e. than a Jew or a Christian. So the Sultan, when\nappealed to by these religionists, who were as usual squabbling\nand fighting, answered, \"What matter if the dog tear the hog or\nthe hog tear the dog\"?\n\n[FN#275] The \"Shar\ufffd'at\" forbidding divorce by force.\n\n[FN#276] i.e. protect my honour.\n\n[FN#277] For this proverb see vol. v. 138. 1 have remarked that\n\"Shame\" is not a passion in Europe as in the East; the Western\nequivalent to the Arab. \"Hay\ufffd' 'would be the Latin \"Pudor.\"\n\n[FN#278] Arab. \"Tal\ufffdkan b\ufffdinan,\" here meaning a triple divorce\nbefore witnesses, making it irrevocable.\n\n[FN#279] i.e. who had played him that trick.\n\n[FN#280] The Bresl. Edit. (vol. xii. pp. 50-116, Nights\ndcccclviii- dcccclxv.) entitles it \"Tale of Abu al-Hasan the\nDamascene and his son S\ufffdd\ufffd Nur al-D\ufffdn ' Al\ufffd.\" S\ufffdd\ufffd means simply,\n\"my lord,\" but here becomes part of the name, a practice\nperpetuated in Zanzibar. See vol. v.283.\n\n[FN#281] i.e. at the hours of canonical prayers and other\nsuitable times he made an especial orison (du'\ufffd) for issue.\n\n[FN#282] See vol. i.85, for the traditional witchcraft of\nBabylonia.\n\n[FN#283] i.e. More or less thoroughly.\n\n[FN#284] i.e. \"He who quitteth not his native country diverteth not himself with a sight of the wonders of the world.\"\n\n[FN#285] For similar sayings, see vol. ix. 257, and my Pilgrimage\ni. 127.\n\n[FN#286] i.e. relying upon, etc.\n\n[FN#287] The Egyptian term for a khan, called in Persia\ncaravanserai (karw\ufffdn-ser\ufffdi); and in Marocco funduk, from the\nGreek; whence the Spanish \"fonda.\" See vol. i. 92.\n\n[FN#288] Arab. \"Baliyah,\" to jingle with \"B\ufffdbiliyah.\"\n\n[FN#289] As a rule whenever this old villain appears in The\nNights, it is a signal for an outburst of obscenity. Here,\nhowever, we are quittes pour la peur. See vol. v. 65 for some of his abominations.\n\n[FN#290] The lines are in vols. viii. 279 and ix. 197. I quote Mr.\nPayne.\n\n[FN#291] Lady or princess of the Fair (ones).\n\n[FN#292] i.e. of buying.\n\n[FN#293] Arab. \"\ufffdz\ufffdn-h\ufffd\" = lit. its ears.\n\n[FN#294] Here again the policeman is made a villain of the\ndeepest dye; bad enough to gratify the intelligence of his\ndeadliest enemy, a lodging-keeper in London.\n\n[FN#295] i.e. You are welcome to it and so it becomes lawful\n(hal\ufffdl) to you.\n\n[FN#296] Arab. \"Sijn al-Dam,\" the Carcere duro inasprito (to\nspeak Triestine), where men convicted or even accused of\nbloodshed were confined.\n\n[FN#297] Arab. \"Mab\ufffdsim\"; plur. of Mabsim, a smiling mouth which shows the foreteeth.\n\n[FN#298] The branchlet, as usual, is the youth's slender form.\n\n[FN#299] Subaudi, \"An ye disdain my love.\"\n\n[FN#300] In the text \"sleep.\"\n\n[FN#301] \"Them\" and \"him\" for \"her.\"\n\n[FN#302] 'Urk\ufffdb, a Jew of Yathrib or Khaybar, immortalised in the A.P. (i. 454) as \"more promise-breaking than 'Urk\ufffdb.\"\n\n[FN#303] Uncle of Mohammed. See vol. viii. 172.\n\n[FN#304] First cousin of Mohammed. See ib.\n\n[FN#305] This threat of \"'Orf with her 'ead\" shows the Caliph's lordliness.\n\n[FN#306] Arab. \"Al-Bashkh\ufffdnah.\"\n\n[FN#307] i.e. Amen. See vol. ix. 131.\n\n[FN#308] When asked, on Doomsday, his justification for having\nslain her.\n\n[FN#309] Khorasan which included our Afghanistan, turbulent then as now, was in a chronic state of rebellion during the latter part of Al-Rashid's reign.\n\n[FN#310] The brutality of a Moslem mob on such occasions is\nphenomenal: no fellow-feeling makes them decently kind. And so at executions even women will take an active part in insulting and tormenting the criminal, tearing his hair, spitting in his face and so forth. It is the instinctive brutality with which wild beasts and birds tear to pieces a wounded companion.\n\n[FN#311] The popular way of stopping hemorrhage by plunging the stump into burning oil which continued even in Europe till\nAmbrose Par\ufffd taught men to take up the arteries.\n\n[FN#312] i.e. folk of good family.\n\n[FN#313] i.e. the result of thy fervent prayers to Allah for me.\n\n[FN#314] Arab. \"Al-Ab\ufffdr\ufffdk\" plur. of lbrik, an ewer containing\nwater for the Wuzu-ablution. I have already explained that a\nMoslem wishing to be ceremonially pure, cannot wash as Europeans do, in a basin whose contents are fouled by the first touch.\n\n[FN#315] Arab. \"N\ufffdihah\", the pr\ufffdfica or myriologist. See vol. i. 311. The proverb means, \"If you want a thing done, do it\nyourself.\"\n\n[FN#316] Arab. \"Burka',\" the face veil of Egypt, Syria, and\nArabia with two holes for the eyes, and the end hanging to the\nwaist, a great contrast with the \"Lith\ufffdm\" or coquettish fold of transparent muslin affected by modest women in Stambul.\n\n[FN#317] i.e. donned petticoat-trousers and walking boots other than those she was wont to wear.\n\n[FN#318] \"Surah\" (Koranic chapter) may be a clerical error for\n\"S\ufffdrah\" (with a S\ufffdd) = sort, fashion (of food).\n\n[FN#319] This is solemn religious chaff; the Shaykh had doubtless often dipped his hand abroad in such dishes; but like a good Moslem, he contented himself at home with wheaten scones and olives, a kind of sacramental food like bread and wine in\nsouthern Europe. But his retort would be acceptable to the True\nBeliever who, the strictest of conservatives, prides himself on\nimitating in all points, the sayings and doings of the Apostle.\n\n[FN#320] i.e. animals that died without being ceremonially\nkilled.\n\n[FN#321] Koran ii. 168. This is from the Chapter of the Cow where \"that which dieth of itself (carrion), blood, pork, and that over which other name but that of Allah (i.e. idols) hath been invoked\" are forbidden. But the verset humanely concludes:\n\"Whoso, however, shall eat them by constraint, without desire, or as a transgressor, then no sin shall be upon him.\"\n\n[FN#322] i.e. son of Simeon = a Christian.\n\n[FN#323] Arab. and Heb. \"Haykal,\" suggesting the idea of large\nspace, a temple, a sanctuary, a palace which bear a suspicious\nlikeness to the Accadian \ufffd-kal or Great House = the old Egyptian Perao (Pharaoh?), and the Japanese \"Mikado.\"\n\n[FN#324] Wine, carrion and pork being lawful to the Moslem if\nused to save life. The former is also the sovereignest thing for\ninward troubles, flatulence, indigestion, etc. See vol. v. 2, 24.\n\n[FN#325] Arab. \"N\ufffdzilah,\" i.e., a curse coming down from Heaven.\n\n[FN#326] Here and below, a translation of her name.\n\n[FN#327] \"A picture of Paradise which is promised to the\nGod-fearing! Therein are rivers of water which taint not; and\nrivers of milk whose taste changeth not; and rivers of wine,\netc.\"--Koran xlvii. 16.\n\n[FN#328]  Let us have wine and women, mirth and laughter,\n          Sermons and soda-water the day after.\n                                   Don Juan ii. 178.\n\n[FN#329] The ox (Bakar) and the bull (Taur, vol. i. 16) are the\nMoslem emblems of stupidity, as with us are the highly\nintelligent ass and the most sagacious goose.\n\n[FN#330] In Arab. \"'Ud\" means primarily wood; then a lute. See\nvol. ii. 100. The Muezzin, like the schoolmaster, is popularly\nsupposed to be a fool.\n\n[FN#331] I have noticed that among Arab lovers it was the fashion to be jealous of the mistress's nightly phantom which, as amongst mesmerists, is the lover's embodied will.\n\n[FN#332] i.e. I will lay down my life to save thee from sorrow--a common-place hyperbole of love.\n\n[FN#333] Arab. \"Katl.\" I have noticed the Hibernian \"kilt\" which\nis not a bull but, like most provincialisms and Americanisms, a\nsurvival, an archaism. In the old Frisian dialect, which agrees\nwith English in more words than \"bread, butter and cheese,\" we\nfind the primary meaning of terms which with us have survived\nonly in their secondary senses, e.g. killen = to beat and slagen\n= to strike. Here is its great value to the English philologist.\nWhen the Irishman complains that he is \"kilt\" we know through the Frisian what he really means.\n\n[FN#334] The decency of this description is highly commendable\nand I may note that the Bresl. Edit. is comparatively free from\nerotic pictures.\n\n[FN#335] i.e. \"I commit him to thy charge under God.\"\n\n[FN#336] This is an Americanism, but it translates passing well\n\"Al-il\ufffdj\" = insertion.\n\n[FN#337] Arab. (and Heb.) \"Tarjum\ufffdn\" = a dragoman, for which see\nvol. i. 100. In the next tale it will occur with the sense of\npolyglottic.\n\n[FN#338] See vol. i. p. 35.\n\n[FN#339] After putting to death the unjust Prefect.\n\n[FN#340] Arab. \"Lajlaj.\" See vol. ix. 322.\n\n[FN#341] Arab. \"Maw\ufffdlid\" lit. = nativity festivals (plur. of\nMaulid). See vol. ix. 289.\n\n\n[FN#342] Bresl. Edit., vol. xii. pp. 116-237, Nights\ndcccclxvi-dcccclxxix. Mr. Payne entitles it \"El Abbas and the\nKing's Daughter of Baghdad.\"\n\n[FN#343] \"Of the Shayban tribe.\" I have noticed (vol. ii. 1) how\nloosely the title Malik (King) is applied in Arabic and in\nmedi\ufffdval Europe. But it is ultra-Shakespearean to place a Badawi\nKing in Baghdad, the capital founded by the Abbasides and ruled\nby those Caliphs till their downfall.\n\n[FN#344] i.e. Ir\ufffdk Arab\ufffd (Chald\ufffda) and 'Ajami (Western Persia).\nFor the meaning of Al-Ir\ufffdk, which always, except in verse, takes\nthe article, see vol. ii. 132.\n\n[FN#345] See supra, p. 185. Mr. Payne suspects a clerical error\nfor \"Turkum\ufffdniyah\" = Turcomanish; but this is hardly acceptable.\n\n[FN#346] As fabulous a personage as \"King Kays.\"\n\n[FN#347] Possibly a clerical error for Zab\ufffdd, the famous capital\nof the Tah\ufffdmah or lowlands of Al-Yaman.\n\n[FN#348] The Moslem's Holy Land whose capital is Meccah.\n\n[FN#349] A hinted protest against making a picture or a statue\nwhich the artist cannot quicken; as this process will be demanded of him on Doomsday. Hence also the Princess is called M\ufffdriyah (Maria, Mary), a non-Moslem name.\n\n[FN#350] i.e. day and night, for ever.\n\n[FN#351] Koran xxxiii. 38; this concludes a \"revelation\"\nconcerning the divorce and marriage to Mohammed of the wife of\nhis adopted son Zayd. Such union, superstitiously held incestuous\nby all Arabs, was a terrible scandal to the rising Faith, and\ncould be abated only by the \"Commandment of Allah.\" It is hard to\nbelieve that a man could act honestly after such fashion; but we\nhave seen in our day a statesman famed for sincerity and\nuprightness honestly doing things the most dishonest possible.\nZayd and Abu Lahab (chap. cxi. i.) are the only contemporaries of\nMohammed named in the Koran.\n\n[FN#352] i.e. darkened behind him.\n\n[FN#353] Here we have again, as so common in Arab romances, the\nexpedition of a modified Don Quixote and Sancho Panza.\n\n[FN#354] Arab. \"Arzi-h\ufffd\" = in its earth, its outlying suburbs.\n\n[FN#355] The king's own tribe.\n\n[FN#356] i.e. he was always \"spoiling for a fight.\"\n\n[FN#357] In the text the two last sentences are spoken by Amir\nand the story-teller suddenly resumes the third person.\n\n[FN#358] Mr. Payne translates this \"And God defend the right\" (of\nplunder according to the Arabs).\n\n[FN#359] Arab. \"Lill\ufffdhi darruk\"; see vol. iv. 20. Captain Lockett (p.28) justly remarks that \"it is a sort of encomiastic exclamation of frequent occurrence in Arabic and much easier to comprehend than translate.\" Darra signifies flowing freely (as milk from the udder) and was metaphorically transferred to bounty and to indoles or natural capacity. Thus the phrase means \"your flow of milk is by or through Allah.\" i.e., of unusual abundance.\n\n[FN#360] The words are euphemistic: we should say \"comest thou to our succour.\"\n\n[FN#361] i.e. If his friend the Devil be overstrong for thee,\nflee him rather than be slain; as\n\n          He who fights and runs away\n          Shall live to fight another day.\n\n[FN#362] i.e. I look to Allah for aid (and keep my powder dry).\n\n[FN#363] i.e. to the next world.\n\n[FN#364] This falling backwards in laughter commonly occurs\nduring the earlier tales; it is, however, very rare amongst the\nBadawin.\n\n[FN#365] i.e. as he were a flying Jinni, swooping down and\npouncing falcon-like upon a mortal from the upper air.\n\n[FN#366] This may be (reading Imraan = man, for Amran = matter) \"a masterful man\"; but I can hardly accept it.\n\n[FN#367] Arab. \"Bunduk\ufffd,\" the adj. of Bunduk, which the Moslems evidently learned from Slav sources; Venedik being the Dalmatian corruption of Venezia. See Dubrovenedik in vol. ii. 219.\n\n[FN#368] i.e. the castle's square.\n\n[FN#369] In sign of quitting possession. Chess in Europe is\nrarely played for money, with the exception of public matches:\nthis, however, is not the case amongst Easterns, who are also for the most part as tricky as an old lady at cribbage rightly named.\n\n[FN#370] i.e. he was as eloquent and courtly as he could be.\n\n[FN#371] Arab. \"Ya Z\ufffdnat al-Nis\ufffd,\" which may either be a P.N. or\na polite address as Bella f\ufffd (Handsome woman) is to any feminine\nin Southern Italy.\n\n[FN#372] Arab. \"Raas Ghanam\": this form of expressing singularity\nis common to Arabic and the Eastern languages, which it has\ninfluenced.\n\n[FN#373] This most wearisome form of politeness is common in the\nMoslem world, where men fondly think that the more you see of\nthem the more you like of them. Yet their Proverbial Philosophy\n(\"the wisdom of many and the wit of one\") strongly protests\nagainst the practice: I have already quoted Mohammed's saying,\n\"Zur ghibban, tazid Hibban\"--visits rare keep friendship fair.\n\n[FN#374] This clause in the text is evidently misplaced (vol.\nxii.144).\n\n[FN#375] Arab. Dara' or Dira'=armour, whether of leather or\nmetal; here the coat worn under the mail.\n\n[FN#376] Called from Rustak, a quarter of Baghdad. For Rust\ufffdk\ntown see vol. vi. 289.\n\n[FN#377] From Damietta comes our \"dimity.\" The classical name was Tami\ufffdthis apparently Coptic gr\ufffdcised: the old town on the shore famed in Crusading times was destroyed in A.H. 648 = 1251.\n\n[FN#378] Easterns are always startled by a sudden summons to the presence either of King or Kazi: here the messenger gives the youth to understand that it is in kindness, not in anger.\n\n[FN#379] i.e. in not sending for thee to court instead of\nallowing thee to live in the city without guest-rite.\n\n[FN#380] In sign of agitation: the phrase has often been used in\nthis sense and we find it also in Al-Mas'udi.\n\n[FN#381] I would remind the reader that the \"Daw\ufffdt\" (ink-case)\ncontains the reed-pens.\n\n[FN#382] Two well-known lovers.\n\n[FN#383] On such occasions the old woman (and Easterns are hard\nde dolo vetularum) always assents to the sayings of her prey,\nwell knowing what the doings will inevitably be.\n\n[FN#384] Travellers, Nomads, Wild Arabs.\n\n[FN#385] Whither they bear thee back dead with the women crying\nand keening.\n\n[FN#386] Arab. Azn\ufffdn\ufffd = emaciated me.\n\n[FN#387] Either the Deity or the Love-god.\n\n[FN#388] Arab. \"Him\ufffd\" = the tribal domain, a word which has often\noccurred.\n\n[FN#389] \"O ye who believe! seek help through patience and\nprayer: verily, Allah is with the patient.\" Koran ii. 148. The\npassage refers to one of the battles, Bedr or Ohod.\n\n[FN#390] Arab. \"Sirr\" (a secret) and afterwards \"Kitm\ufffdn\"\n(concealment) i.e. Keeping a lover down-hearted.\n\n[FN#391] Arab. \"'Alkam\" = the bitter gourd, colocynth; more\nusually \"Hanzal.\"\n\n[FN#392] For \"Jaz\ufffdrah\" = insula, island, used in the sense of\n\"peninsula,\" see vol. i. 2.\n\n[FN#393] Meccah and Al-Medinah. Pilgrimage i. 338 and ii. 57,\nused in the proverb \"Sharr fi al-Haramayn\" = wickedness in the\ntwo Holy Places.\n\n[FN#394] Arab. Al-hamd (o li'llah).\n\n[FN#395] i.e. play, such as the chase, or an earnest matter, such as war, etc.\n\n[FN#396] Arab. \"Mizwad,\" or Mizw\ufffdd = lit. provision-bag, from Z\ufffdd = viaticum; afterwards called Kirbah (pron. Girbah, the popular term), and Sakl. The latter is given in the Dictionaries as Ask\ufffdlah = scala, \ufffdchelle, stage, plank.\n\n[FN#397] Those blood-feuds are most troublesome to the traveller, who may be delayed by them for months: and, until a peace be patched up, he will never be allowed to pass from one tribe to their enemies. A quarrel of the kind prevented my crossing Arabia from Al-Medinah to Maskat (Pilgrimage, ii. 297), and another in Africa from visiting the head of the Tanganyika Lake. In all such journeys the traveller who has to fight against Time is almost sure to lose.\n\n[FN#398] i.e. his fighting-men.\n\n[FN#399] The popular treatment of a detected horse-thief, for\nwhich see Burckhardt, Travels in Arabia (1829), and Notes on the\nBedouins and Wahabys (1830).\n\n[FN#400] Arab \"Ash\ufffdrah\": see vol. vii. 121.\n\n[FN#401] Arab. \"Mus\ufffdfahah\" -. see vol. vi. 287.\n\n[FN#402] In the text, \"To the palace of the king's daughter.\"\n\n[FN#403] Arab. \"Marj Sal\ufffd'\" = cleft meadow (here and below). Mr.\nPayne suggests that this may be a mistranscription for Marj Sal\ufffd'\n(with a S\ufffdd) = a treeless champaign. It appears to me a careless\nblunder for the Marj akhzar (green meadow) before mentioned.\n\n[FN#404] The palace, even without especial and personal reasons,\nnot being the place for a religious and scrupulous woman.\n\n[FN#405] \"i.e. those of El Aziz, who had apparently entered the\ncity or passed through it on their way to the camp of El Abbas.\"\nThis is Mr. Payne's suggestion.\n\n[FN#406] Arab \"Hatif\"; gen. = an ally.\n\n[FN#407] Not wishing to touch the hand of a strange woman.\n\n[FN#408] i.e. a mere passer-by, a stranger; alluding to her\ntaunt.\n\n[FN#409] The Bactrian or double-humped dromedary. See vol. iii.\n67. Al-Mas'udi (vii. 169) calls it \"Jamal f\ufffdlij,\" lit. = the\npalsy-camel.\n\n[FN#410] i.e. Stars and planets.\n\n[FN#411] i.e. Sang in tenor tones which are always in falsetto.\n\n[FN#412] Arab. Tahz\ufffdb = reforming morals, amending conduct,\nchastening style.\n\n[FN#413] i.e. so as to show only the whites, as happens to the\n\"mesmerised.\"\n\n[FN#414] i.e. for love of and longing for thy youth.\n\n[FN#415] i.e. leather from Al-T\ufffdif: see vol. viii. 303. The text\nhas by mistake T\ufffdlif\ufffd.\n\n[FN#416] i.e. she was at her last breath, when cured by the magic\nof love.\n\n[FN#417] i.e. violateth my private apartment.\n\n[FN#418] The voice (Sh\ufffdzz) is left doubtful: it may be girl's,\nnightingale's, or dove's.\n\n[FN#419] Arab. \"Hib\ufffd\" partly induced by the rhyme. In desert\ncountries the comparison will be appreciated: in Sind the fine\ndust penetrates into a closed book.\n\n[FN#420] i.e. he smuggled it in under his 'Ab\ufffd-cloak: perhaps it was a better brand than that made in the monastery.\n\n[FN#421] i.e. the delights of Paradise promised by the Prophet.\n\n[FN#422] Again, \"he\" for \"she,\" making the lover's address more courtly and delicate.\n\n[FN#423] i.e. take refuge with Allah from the evil eye of her\ncharms.\n\n[FN#424] i.e. an thou prank or adorn thyself: I have translated literally, but the couplet strongly suggests \"nonsense verses.\"\n\n[FN#425] Arab. \"Sant\ufffdr:\" Lane (M.E., chapt. xviii.) describes it as resembling the Kan\ufffdn (dulcimer or zither) but with two oblique peg-pieces instead of one and double chords of wire (not treble strings of lamb's gut) and played upon with two sticks instead of the little plectra. Dozy also gives Santir from {psalt\ufffdrion}, the Fsaltr\ufffdn of Daniel.\n\n[FN#426] i.e. That which is ours shall be thine, and that which\nis incumbent on thee shall be incumbent on us = we will assume\nthy debts and responsibilities.\n\n[FN#427] This passage is sadly disjointed in the text: I have\nfollowed Mr. Payne's ordering.\n\n[FN#428] The Arab of noble tribe is always the first to mount his\nown mare: he also greatly fears her being put out to full speed\nby a stranger, holding that this should be reserved for occasions\nof life and death; and that it can be done to perfection only\nonce during the animal's life.\n\n[FN#429] The red (Ahmar) dromedary like the white-red (Sabah)\nwere most valued because they are supposed best to bear the heats\nof noon; and thus \"red camels\" is proverbially used for wealth.\nWhen the head of Abu Jahl was brought in after the Battle of\nBedr, Mahommed exclaimed, \"'Tis more acceptable to me than a red\ncamel!\"\n\n[FN#430] i.e. Couriers on dromedaries, the only animals used for\nsending messages over long distances.\n\n[FN#431] These guest-fires are famous in Arab poetry. So\nAl-Har\ufffdr\ufffd (Ass. of Banu Haram) sings:--\n\n          A beacon fire I ever kindled high;\n\ni.e. on the hill-tops near the camp, to guide benighted\ntravellers. Also the Lam\ufffdyat al-Ajam says:--\n\n          The fire of hospitality is ever lit on the high\nstations.\n\nThis natural telegraph was used in a host of ways by the Arabs of\nThe Ignorance; for instance, when a hated guest left the camp\nthey lighted the \"Fire of Rejection,\" and cried, \"Allah, bear him\nfar from us!\" Nothing was more ignoble than to quench such fire:\nhence in obloquy of the Faz\ufffdr tribe it was said:--\n\n          Ne'er trust Faz\ufffdr with an ass, for they\n               Once roasted ass-pizzle, the rabble rout:\n          And, when sight they guest, to their dams they say,\n               \"Piss quick on the guest-fire and put it out!\"\n     (Al-Mas\"udi vi. 140.)\n\n[FN#432] i.e. of rare wood, set with rubies.\n\n[FN#433] i.e. whose absence pained us.\n\n[FN#434] Mr. Payne and I have long puzzled over these enigmatical\nand possibly corrupt lines: he wrote to me in 1884, \"This is the\nfirst piece that has beaten me.\" In the couplet above (vol. xii.\n230) \"Rayh\ufffdn\ufffd\" may mean \"my basil-plant\" or \"my food\" (the latter\nKoranic), \"my compassion,\" etc.; and S\ufffds\ufffdn\ufffd is equally ancipitous\n\"My lilies\" or \"my sleep\": see Bard al-Susan = les douceurs du\nsommeil in Al-Mas'\ufffddi vii. 168.\n\n[FN#435] The \"Nik\ufffd\" or sand hill is the swell of the throat: the\nGhaur or lowland is the fall of the waist: the flower is the\nbreast anent which Mr. Payne appropriately quotes the well-known\nlines of Fletcher:\n\n          \"Hide, O hide those hills of snow,\n          That thy frozen bosom bears,\n          On whose tops the pinks that grow\n          Are of those that April wears.\"\n\n[FN#436] Easterns are right in regarding a sleepy languorous look\nas one of the charms of women, and an incitement to love because\nsuggestive only of bed. Some men also find the same pleasure in a\nlacrymose expression of countenance, seeming always to call for\nconsolation: one of the most successful women I know owes her\nexceptional good fortune to this charm.\n\n[FN#437] Arab. \"H\ufffdjib,\"eyebrow or chamberlain; see vol. iii. 233.\nThe pun is classical used by a host of poets including Al-Har\ufffdr\ufffd.\n\n[FN#438] Arab. \"Tarfah.\" There is a Tarfia Island in the\nGuadalquivir and in Gibraltar a \"Tarfah Alto\" opposed to \"Tarfah\nbajo.\" But it must not be confounded with Tarf = a side, found in\nthe Maroccan term for \"The Rock\" Jabal al-Tarf = Mountain of the\nPoint (of Europe).\n\n[FN#439] For Solomon and his flying carpet see vol. iii. 267.\n\n[FN#440] Arab. \"Bil\ufffdd al-Maghrib (al-Aksa,\" in full) = the\nFarthest Land of the setting Sun, shortly called Al-Maghrib and\nthe people \"Maghribi.\" The earliest occurrence of our name\nMorocco or Marocco I find in the \"Mar\ufffdkiyah\" of Al-Mas'udi (iii.\n241), who apparently applies it to a district whither the Berbers\nmigrated.\n\n[FN#441] The necklace-pearls are the cup-bearer's teeth.\n\n[FN#442] In these unregenerate days they would often be summoned to the houses of the royal family; but now they had \"got religion\" and, becoming freed women, were resolved to be\n\"respectable.\" In not a few Moslem countries men of wealth and\nrank marry professional singers who, however loose may have been their artistic lives, mostly distinguish themselves by decency of behaviour often pushed to the extreme of rigour. Also jeune coquette, vieille d\ufffdvote is a rule of the world, Eastern and Western.\n\n[FN#443] Bresl. Edit., vol. xii p. 383 (Night mi).  The king is called as usual \"Shahrb\ufffdn,\" which is nearly synonymous with\nShahry\ufffdr.\n\n[FN#444] i.e. the old Sindibad-N\ufffdmeh (see vol. vi. 122), or \"The Malice of Women\" which the Bresl. Edit. entitles, \"Tale of the King and his Son and his Wife and the Seven Wazirs.\"  Here it immediately follows the Tale of Al-Abbas and Mariyah and occupies pp. 237-383 of vol. xii. (Nights dcccclxxix-m).\n\n[FN#445] i.e. Those who commit it.\n\n[FN#446] The connection between this pompous introduction and the story which follows is not apparent.  The \"Tale of the Two Kings and the Wazir's Daughters\" is that of Shahrazad told in the third person, in fact a rechauff\ufffd of the Introduction.  But as some three years have passed since the marriage, and the d\ufffdno\ufffdement of the plot is at hand, the Princess is made, with some art I think, to lay the whole affair before her husband in her own words, the better to bring him to a \"sense of his duty.\"\n\n[FN#447] Bresl. Edit., vol. xii. pp. 384-412.\n\n[FN#448] This clause is taken from the sequence, where the elder brother's kingdom is placed in China.\n\n[FN#449] For the Tobbas = \"Successors\" or the Himyaritic kings, see vol. i. 216.\n\n[FN#450] Kay\ufffdsirah, opp. to Ak\ufffdsirah, here and in many other\nplaces.\n\n[FN#451] See vol. ii. 77. King Kulayb (\"little dog\") al-W\ufffd'il, a powerful chief of the Banu Ma'ad in the Kas\ufffdn district of Najd, who was connected with the war of Al-Bas\ufffds.  He is so called because he lamed a pup (kulayb) and tied it up in the midst of his Him\ufffd (domain, place of pasture and water), forbidding men to camp within sound of its bark or sight of his fire.  Hence \"more masterful than Kulayb,\" A.P. ii. 145, and Al-Hariri Ass. xxvi. (Chenery, p. 448).  This angry person came by his death for wounding in the udder a trespassing camel (Sorab) whose owner was a woman named Bas\ufffds.  Her friend (Jas\ufffds) slew him; and thus arose the famous long war between the tribes W\ufffd'il Bakr and Taghlib. It gave origin to the saying, \"Die thou and be an expiation for the shoe-latchet of Kulayb.\"\n\n[FN#452] Arab. \"Mukhaddar\ufffdt,\" maidens concealed behind curtains and veiled in the Harem.\n\n[FN#453] i.e. the professional R\ufffdwis or tale-reciters who learned stories by heart from books like \"The Arabian Nights.\"  See my Terminal Essay, vol. x. 163.\n\n[FN#454] Arab. \"Bid'ah,\" lit. = an innovation, a new thing, an\ninvention, any change from the custom of the Prophet and the\nuniversal practice of the Faith, whether it be in the cut of the beard or a question of state policy.  Popularly the word =\nheterodoxy, heresy; but theologically it is not necessarily used in a bad sense.  See vol. v. 167.\n\n[FN#455] About three parts of this sentence have been supplied by\nMr. Payne, the careless scribe having evidently omitted it.\n\n[FN#456] Here, as in the Introduction (vol. i. 24), the king\nconsummates his marriage in presence of his virgin sister-in-law,\na process which decency forbids amongst Moslems.\n\n[FN#457] Al-Mas'udi (vol. iv. 213) uses this term to signify\nviceroy in \"Shahry\ufffdr Sajast\ufffdn.\"\n\n[FN#458] i.e. his indifference to the principles of right and\nwrong, which is a manner of moral intoxication.\n\n[FN#459] i.e. hath mentioned the office of Wazir (in Koran xx.\n30).\n\n[FN#460] i.e. Moslems, who practice the Religion of Resignation.\n\n[FN#461] Koran xxxiii. 35.  This is a proemium to the\n\"revelation\" concerning Zayd and Zaynab.\n\n[FN#462] i.e. I have an embarras de richesse in my repertory.\n\n[FN#463] The title is from the Bresl. Edit. (vol. xii. pp. 398-402).  Mr. Payne calls it \"The Favourite and her Lover.\"\n\n[FN#464] The practice of fumigating gugglets is universal in\nEgypt (Lane, M. E., chapt. v.); but I never heard of musk being so used.\n\n[FN#465] Arab.  \"Laysa fi 'l-diy\ufffdri dayy\ufffdr\"--a favourite jingle.\n\n[FN#466] Arab.  \"Khayr Kathir\" (pron. Kat\ufffdr) which also means\n\"abundant kindness.\"\n\n[FN#467] Dozy says of \"Hunayn\ufffd\" (Ha\ufffdn\ufffd), Il semble \ufffdtre le nom\nd'un v\ufffdtement.  On which we may remark, Connu!\n\n[FN#468] Arab.  Har\ufffdsah:  see vol. i. 131.  Westerns make a sad mess of this dish when they describe it as une sorte d'olla podrida (the hotch-pot), une p\ufffdt\ufffde de viandes, de froment et de l\ufffdgumes secs (Al-Mas'udi viii. 438).  Whenever I have eaten it, it was always a meat-pudding, for which see vol. i. 131.\n\n[FN#469] Evidently one escaped because she was sleeping with the Caliph, and a second because she had kept her assignation.\n\n[FN#470] Mr. Payne entitles it, \"The Merchant of Cairo and the\nFavourite of the Khalif el Mamoun el Hakim bi Amrillah.\"\n\n[FN#471] See my Pilgrimage (i. 100): the seat would be on the\nsame bit of boarding where the master sits or on a stool or bench in the street.\n\n[FN#472] This is true Cairene chaff, give and take; and the\nstranger must accustom himself to it before he can be at home\nwith the people.\n\n[FN#473] i.e. In Rauzah-Island: see vol. v. 169.\n\n[FN#474] There is no historical person who answers to these name, \"The Secure, the Ruler by Commandment of Allah.\"  The cognomen applies to two soldans of Egypt, of whom the later Abu al-Abbas Ahmad the Abbaside (A.D. 1261-1301) has already been mentioned in The Nights (vol. v. 86).  The tale suggests the earlier Al-Hakim (Abu Ali al-Mans\ufffdr, the Fatimite, A.D. 995-1021), the God of the Druze \"persuasion;\" and the tale-teller may have purposely blundered in changing Mans\ufffdr to Maam\ufffdn for fear of offending a sect which has been most dangerous in the matter of assassination and which is capable of becoming so again.\n\n[FN#475] Arab.  \"'Al\ufffd kulli h\ufffdl\" = \"whatever may betide,\" or\n\"willy-nilly.\"  The phrase is still popular.\n\n[FN#476] The dulce desipere of young lovers, he making a buffoon of himself to amuse her.\n\n[FN#477] \"The convent of Clay,\" a Coptic monastery near Cairo.\n\n[FN#478] i.e. this is the time to show thyself a man.\n\n[FN#479] The Eastern succedaneum for swimming corks and other\n\"life-preservers.\"  The practice is very ancient; we find these gourds upon the monuments of Egypt and Babylonia.\n\n[FN#480] Arab.  \"Al-Khal\ufffdj,\" the name, still popular, of the\nGrand Canal of Cairo, whose banks, by-the-by, are quaint and\npicturesque as anything of the kind in Holland.\n\n[FN#480a] A few lines higher up it was \"her neck\"; but the jar may have slipped down.\n\n[FN#481] We say more laconically \"A friend in need.\"\n\n[FN#482] Arab.  \"N\ufffdzir al-Maw\ufffdr\ufffds,\" the employ\ufffd charged with the disposal of legacies and seizing escheats to the Crown when Moslems die intestate.  He is usually a prodigious rascal as in the text.  The office was long kept up in Southern Europe, and Camoens was sent to Macao as \"Provedor dos defuntos e  ausentes.\"\n\n[FN#483] Sir R. F. Burton has since found two more of \"Galland's\" tales in an Arabic text of The Nights, namely, Aladdin and Zeyn al-Asnam.\n\n[FN#484] i.e. wondering; thus Lady Macbeth says:\n\n          \"You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting,\n          With most admired disorder.\"---Macbeth, iii. 4\n\n[FN#485] Ludovicus Vives, one of the most learned of Spanish\nauthors, was born at Valentia in 1492 and died in 1540.\n\n[FN#486] There was an older \"T\ufffdt\ufffd N\ufffdma,\" which Nakhshab\ufffd\nmodernised, made from a Sanskrit story-book, now lost, but its\nmodern representative is the \"Suka Saptat\ufffd,\" or Seventy (Tales) of a Parrot in which most of Nakhshabi's tales are found.\n\n[FN#487] According to Lescallier's French translation of the\n\"Bakhty\ufffdr N\ufffdma,\" made from two MSS. = \"She had previously had a lover, with whom, unknown to her father, she had intimate\nrelations, and had given birth to a beautiful boy, whose\neducation she secretly confided to some trusty servants.\"\n\n[FN#488] There is a slight mistake in the passage in p. 313\nsupplied from the story in vol. vi.  It is not King Shah Bakht, but the other king, who assures his chamberlain that \"the lion\" has done him no injury.\n\n[FN#489] Such was formerly the barbarous manner of treating the insane.\n\n[FN#490] From \"Tarlton's Newes out of Purgatorie.\"\n\n[FN#491] A basket\n\n[FN#492] In the fabliau \"De la Dame qui atrappa un Pr\ufffdtre, un\nPr\ufffdv\ufffdt, et un Forestier\" (or Constant du Hamel), the lady, on the pretext that her husband is at the door, stuffs her lovers, as they arrive successively, unknown to each other, into a large tub full of feathers and afterwards exposes them to public ridicule.\n\n[FN#493] Until.\n\n[FN#494] Requite.\n\n[FN#495] Accidents.\n\n[FN#496] A boarding.\n\n[FN#497] The letter I is very commonly substituted for \"ay\" in\n16th century English books.\n\n[FN#498] Oesterley mentions a Sanskrit redaction of the Vampyre Tales attributed to Sivad\ufffdsa, and another comprised in the \"Kath\ufffdrnava.\"\n\n[FN#499] And well might his sapient majesty \"wonder\"!  The humour of this passage is exquisite.\n\n[FN#500] In the Tamil version (Babington's translation of the\n\"Ved\ufffdla Kadai\") there are but two brothers, one of whom is\nfastidious in his food, the other in beds: the latter lies on a bed stuffed with flowers, deprived of their stalks.  In the\nmorning he complains of pains all over his body, and on examining the bed one hair is found amongst the flowers.  In the Hind\ufffd version, the king asks him in the morning whether he had slept comfortably.  \"O great King,\" he replied; \"I did not sleep all night.\"  \"How so?\" quoth he.  \"O great King, in the seventh fold of the bedding there is a hair, which pricked me in the back, therefore I could not sleep.\"  The youth who was fastidious about the fair sex had a lovely damsel laid beside him, and he was on the point of kissing her, but on smelling her breath he turned away his face, and went to sleep.  Early in the morning the king (who had observed through a lattice what passed) asked him, \"Did you pass the night pleasantly?\"  He replied that he did not, because the smell of a goat proceeded from the girl's mouth, which made him very uneasy.  The king then sent for the procuress and ascertained that the girl had been brought up on goat's milk.\n\n[FN#501] M\ufffdlusine: Revue de Mythologie, Litt\ufffdrature Populaire,\nTraditions, et Usages.  Dirig\ufffde par H. Gaidoz et E. Rolland.--\nParis.\n\n[FN#502] The trick of the clever Magyar in marking all the other sleepers as the king's mother had marked himself occurs in the folk-tales of most countries, especially in the numerous versions of the Robbery of the King's Treasury, which are brought together in my work on the Migrations of Popular Tales and Fictions (Blackwood), vol. ii., pp. 113-165.\n\n[FN#503] A mythical saint, or prophet, who, according to the\nMuslim legend, was despatched by one of the ancient kings of\nPersia to procure him some of the Water of Life.  After a tedious journey, Khizr reached the Fountain of Immortality, but having drank of its waters, it suddenly vanished.  Muslims believe that Khizr still lives, and sometimes appears to favoured individuals, always clothed in green, and acts as their guide in difficult enterprises.\n\n[FN#504] \"Spake these words to the king\"--certainly not those\nimmediately preceding! but that, if the king would provide for\nhim during three years, at the end of that period he would show Khizr to the king.\n\n[FN#505] Mr. Gibb compares with this the following passage from Boethius, \"De Consolatione Philosophi\ufffd,\" as translated by\nChaucer:  \"All thynges seken ayen to hir propre course, and all thynges rejoysen on hir retourninge agayne to hir nature.\"\n\n[FN#506] In this tale, we see, Khizr appears to the distressed in white raiment.\n\n[FN#507] In an old English metrical version of the \"Seven Sages,\" the tutors of the prince, in order to test his progress in general science, secretly place an ivy leaf under each of the four posts of his bed, and when he awakes in the morning--\n\n          \"Par fay!\" he said, \"a ferli cas!\n          Other ich am of wine y-drunk,\n          Other the firmament is sunk,\n          Other wexen is the ground,\n          The thickness of four leav\ufffds round!\n          So much to-night higher I lay,\n          Certes, than yesterday.\"\n\n[FN#508] See also the same story in The Nights, vols. vii. and\nviii., which Mr. Kirby considers as probably a later version.\n(App. vol. x. of The Nights, p. 500).\n\n[FN#509] So, too, in the \"Bah\ufffdr-i-D\ufffdnish\" a woman is described as being so able a professor in the school of deceit, that she could have instructed the devil in the science of stratagem: of another it is said that by her wiles she could have drawn the devil's claws; and of a third the author declares, that the devil himself would own there was no escaping from her cunning!\n\n[FN#510] There is a similar tale by the Spanish novelist Isidro de Robles (circa 1660), in which three ladies find a diamond ring in a fountain; each claims it; at length they agree to refer the dispute to a count of their acquaintance who happened to be close by.  He takes charge of the ring and says to the ladies, \"Whoever in the space of six weeks shall succeed in playing off on her husband the most clever and ingenious trick (always having due regard to his honour) shall possess the ring; in the meantime it shall remain in my hands.\"  (See Roscoe's \"Specimens of the Spanish Novelists,\" Chandos edition, p. 438 ff.)  This story was probably brought by the Moors to Spain, whence it may have passed into France, since it is the subject of a faliau, by Haisiau the trouv\ufffdre, entitled \"Des Trois Dames qui trouverent un Anel,\" which is found in M\ufffdon's edition of Barbazan, 1808, tome iii. pp. 220-229, and in Le Grand, ed. 1781, tome iv. pp. 163-165.\n\n[FN#511] Idiots and little boys often figure thus in popular\ntales:  readers of Rabelais will remember his story of the Fool and the Cook; and there is a familiar example of a boy's\nprecocity in the story of the Stolen Purse--\"Craft and Malice ofWomen,\" or the Seven Wazirs, vol. vi. of The Nights.\n\n[FN#512] I have considerably abridged Mr. Knowles' story in\nseveral places.\n\n[FN#513] A species of demon.\n\n[FN#514] This is one of the innumerable parallels to the story of Jonah in the \"whale's\" belly which occur m Asiatic fictions. See, for some instances, Tawney's translation of the \"Kath\ufffd Sarit S\ufffdgara,\" ch. xxxv. and lxxiv.; \"Indian Antiquary,\" Sept. 1885, Legend of Ahl\ufffd; Miss Stokes' \"Indian Fairy Tales,\" pp. 75, 76; and Steel and Temple's \"Wide-Awake Stories from the Panj\ufffdb and Kashm\ufffdr,\" p. 411. In Lucian's \"Vera Historia,\" a monster fish swallows a ship and her crew, who live a long time in the extensive regions comprised in its internal economy. See also Herrtage's \"Gesta Romanorum\" (Early English Text Society), p. 297.\n\n[FN#515] In the Arabian version the people resolve to leave the choice of a new king to the royal elephant because they could not agree among themselves (vol. i., p. 323), but in Indian fictions such an incident frequently occurs as a regular custom. In the \"Sivandhi Sthala Purana,\" a legendary account of the famous temple at Trichinopoli, as supposed to be told by Gautama to Matanga and other sages, it is related that a certain king having mortally offended a holy devotee, his capital and all its inhabitants were, in consequence of a curse pronounced by the enraged saint, buried beneath a shower of dust. \"Only the queen escaped, and in her flight she was delivered of a male-child. After some time, the chiefs of the Chola kingdom, proceeding to elect a king, determined, by the advice of the saint, to crown whomsoever the late monarch's elephant should pitch upon. Being turned loose for this purpose, the elephant discovered and brought to Trisira-m\ufffdl\ufffd the child of his former master, who accordingly became the Chola king.\" (Wilson's Desc. Catal. of Mackenzie MSS., i. 17.) In a Manipur\ufffd story of two brothers, Turi and Basanta--\"Indian Antiquary,\" vol. iii.--the elder is chosen king in like manner by an elephant who meets him in the forest, and takes him on his back to the palace, where he is immediately placed on the throne. See also \"Wide-Awake Stories from the Panj\ufffdb and Kashm\ufffdr,\" by Mrs. Steel and Captain Temple, p. 141; and Rev.\nLal Behari Day's \"Folk-Tales of Bengal,\" p. 100 for similar\ninstances. The hawk taking part, in this story, with the elephant in the selection of a king does not occur in any other tale known to me.\n\n[FN#516] So that their caste might not be injured. A dhob\ufffd, or\nwasherman, is of much lower caste than a Br\ufffdhman or a Khshatriya.\n\n[FN#517] A responsible position in a r\ufffdj\ufffd's palace.\n\n[FN#518] \"And Jonah was in the belly of the fish three days and three nights.\" R\ufffdj\ufffd Amb\ufffd must have been fully twelve years in the stomach of the alligator.\n\n[FN#519] This device of the mother to obtain speech of the king is much more natural than that adopted in the Kashmiri version.\n\n[FN#520] The story of Ab\ufffd S\ufffdbir (see vol. i. p. 81 ff.) may also be regarded as an analogue. He is unjustly deprived of all his possessions, and, with his wife and two young boys, driven forth of his village. The children are borne off by thieves, and their mother forcibly carried away by a horseman. Ab\ufffd S\ufffdbir, after many sufferings, is raised from a dungeon to a throne. He regains his two children and his wife, who had steadfastly refused to cohabit with her captor.\n\n[FN#521] Introduction to the romance of \"Torrent of Portingale,\" re-edited (for the Early English Text Society, 1886) by E. Adam, Ph.D., pp. xxi. xxii.\n\n[FN#522] Morning.\n\n[FN#523] Bird.\n\n[FN#524] Mean; betoken.\n\n[FN#525] Thee.\n\n[FN#526] Tho: then.\n\n[FN#527] Yede: went.\n\n[FN#528] Case.\n\n[FN#529] Avaunced: advanced; promoted.\n\n[FN#530] Holpen: helped.\n\n[FN#531] Brent: burnt.\n\n[FN#532] But if: unless.\n\n[FN#533] To wed: in pledge, in security.\n\n[FN#534] Beth: are.\n\n[FN#535] Or: either.\n\n[FN#536] Lever dey: rather die.\n\n[FN#537] Far, distant.\n\n[FN#538] Unless.\n\n[FN#539] Oo: one.\n\n[FN#540] Ayen: again.\n\n[FN#541] Or: ere, before.\n\n[FN#542] Army; host.\n\n[FN#543] Part.\n\n[FN#544] That.\n\n[FN#545] Grief, sorrow.\n\n[FN#546] Poor.\n\n[FN#547] Gathered, or collected, together.\n\n[FN#548] Arms; accoutrements; dress.\n\n[FN#549] Bravely.\n\n[FN#550] Those.\n\n[FN#551] Done, ended.\n\n[FN#552] Their lodgings, inn.\n\n[FN#553] Since.\n\n[FN#554] Comrades.\n\n[FN#555] Truly.\n\n[FN#556] Lodged.\n\n[FN#557] Inn.\n\n[FN#558] Hem: them.\n\n[FN#559] Chief of the army.\n\n[FN#560] I note: I know not.\n\n[FN#561] Nor.\n\n[FN#562] Place.\n\n[FN#563] That is by means of his hounds.\n\n[FN#564] A wood.\n\n[FN#565] Those.\n\n[FN#566] Her: their.\n\n[FN#567] Looks towards; attends to.\n\n[FN#568] Give.\n\n[FN#569] Excepting; unless.\n\n[FN#570] Face; countenance.\n\n[FN#571] Care; close examination.\n\n[FN#572] Palata, Lat. (Paletot, O. Fr. ), sometimes signifying a particular stuff, and sometimes a particular dress.  See Du\nCange.\n\n[FN#573] Cut; divided\n\n[FN#574] Wept.\n\n[FN#575] Sailing.\n\n[FN#576] More.\n\n[FN#577] Much.\n\n[FN#578] Sultan.\n\n[FN#579] Name.\n\n[FN#580] Voice, i.e., command.\n\n[FN#581] Slew.\n\n[FN#582] Labour.\n\n[FN#583] Drew.\n\n[FN#584] Went.\n\n[FN#585] Burning coal.\n\n[FN#586] Pray; beg.\n\n[FN#587] Recovered.\n\n[FN#588] Head.\n\n[FN#589] Weeping.\n\n[FN#590] Saw.\n\n[FN#591] Waving.\n\n[FN#592] Began to climb.\n\n[FN#593] Against.\n\n[FN#594] More.\n\n[FN#595] From an early volume of the \"Asiatic Journal,\" the\nnumber of which I did not \"make a note of--thus, for once at\nleast, disregarding the advice of the immortal Captain Cuttle.\n\n[FN#596] \"It was no wonder,\" says this writer, \"that his (i.e.\nGalland's) version of the 'Arabian Nights' achieved a universal popularity, and was translated into many languages, and that it provoked a crowd of imitations, from 'Les Mille et Un Jours' to the 'Tales of the Genii.'\"\n\n[FN#597] This is a version of The Sleeper and the Waker--with a vengeance! Ab\ufffd Hasan the Wag, the Tinker, and the Rustic, and others thus practiced upon by frolic-loving princes and dukes, had each, at least, a most delightful \"dream.\" But when a man is similarly handled by the \"wife of his bosom\"--in stories, only, of course--the case is very different as the poor chief of police experienced. Such a \"dream\" as his wife induced upon him we may be sure he would remember \"until that day that he did creep into his sepulchre!\"\n\n[FN#598] I call this \"strikingly similar\" to the preceding\nPersian story, although it has fewer incidents and the lady's\nhusband remains a monk; she could not have got him back even had she wished; for, having taken the vows, he was debarred from returning to \"the world \" which a kalandar or dervish may do as often as he pleases.\n\n[FN#599] \"The Woman's trick against her Husband.\"","title":"Supplemental Nights to the Book of the Thousand and One Nights \u2014 Volume 2 (of 6)","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":146859}