{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_5242/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_5242","id":"gutenberg_5242","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/5242","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Fairy tales -- Arab countries","Folklore -- Arab countries"],"text":"TALES FROM THE ARABIC\n\n       Of the Breslau and Calcutta (1814-18) editions of\n\n         The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night\n\n     not occurring in the other printed texts of the work,\n\n                  Now first done into English\n\n                         By John Payne\n\n                       In Three Volumes:\n\n\n\n                       VOLUME THE FIRST.\n\n\n\n                              1901\n\n                         Delhi Edition\n\n\n                 Contents of The First Volume.\n\n\n\n                         Breslau Text.\n\n1.   Asleep and Awake\n     a.   Story of the Lackpenny and the Cook\n2.   The Khalif Omar Ben Abdulaziz and the Poets\n3.   El Hejjaj and the Three Young Men\n4.   Haroun Er Reshid and the Woman of the Barmecides\n5.   The Ten Viziers; or the History of King Azadbekht and His\n     Son\n     a.   Of the Uselessness of Endeavour Against Persistent Ill\n          Fortune\n          i.   Story of the Unlucky Merchant\n     b.   Of Looking to the Issues of Affairs\n          i.   Story of the Merchant and His Sons\n     c.   Of the Advantages of Patience\n          i.   Story of Abou Sabir\n     d.   Of the Ill Effects of Precipitation\n          i.   Story of Prince Bihzad\n     e.   Of the Issues of Good and Evil Actions\n          i.   Story of King Dadbin and His Viziers\n     f.   Of Trust in God\n          i.   Story of King Bexhtzeman\n     g.   Of Clemency\n          i.   Story of King Bihkerd\n     h.   Of Envy and Malice\n          i.   Story of Ilan Shah and Abou Temam\n     i.   Of Destiny or That Which Is Written on the Forehead\n          i.   Story of King Abraham and His Son\n     j.   Of the Appointed Term, Which, If it Be Advanced, May\n          Not Be Deferred and If it Be Deferred, May Not Be\n          Advanced\n          i.   Story of King Suleiman Shah and His Sons\n     k.   Of the Speedy Relief of God\n          i.   Story of the Prisoner and How God Gave Him Relief\n6.   Jaafer Ben Yehya and Abdulmelik Ben Salih the Abbaside\n7.   Er Reshid and the Barmecides\n8.   Ibn Es Semmak and Er Reshid\n9.   El Mamoun and Zubeideh\n10.  En Numan and the Arab of the Benou Tai\n11.  Firouz and His Wife\n12.  King Shah Bekht and His Vizier Er Rehwan\n     a.   Story of the Man of Khorassan, His Son and His Governor\n     b.   Story of the Singer and the Druggist\n     c.   Story of the King Who Knew the Quintessence of Things\n     d.   Story of the Rich Man Who Gave His Fair Daughter in\n          Marriage to the Poor Old Man\n     e.   Story of the Rich Man and His Wasteful Son\n     f.   The King's Son Who Fell in Love with the Picture\n     g.   Story of the Fuller and His Wife\n     h.   Story of the Old Woman, the Merchant and the King\n     i.   Story of the Credulous Husband\n     j.   Story of the Unjust King and the Tither\n          i.   Story of David and Solomon\n     k.   Story of the Thief and the Woman\n     l.   Story of the Three Men and Our Lord Jesus\n          i.   The Disciple's Story\n     m.   Story of the Dethroned King Whose Kingdom and Good Were\n          Restorfd to Him\n     n.   Story of the Man Whose Caution Was the Cause of His\n          Death\n     o.   Story of the Man Who Was Lavish of His House and His\n          Victual to One Whom He Knew Not\n     p.   Story of the Idiot and the Sharper\n     q.   Story of Khelbes and His Wife and the Learned Man\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                         Breslau Text.\n\n\n\n                     ASLEEP AND AWAKE[FN#1]\n\n\n\n\n\nThere was once [at Baghdad], in the Khalifate of Haroun er\nReshid, a man, a merchant, who had a son by name Aboulhusn el\nKhelia.[FN#2] The merchant died and left his son great store of\nwealth, which he divided into two parts, one of which he laid up\nand spent of the other half; and he fell to companying with\nPersians[FN#3] and with the sons of the merchants and gave\nhimself up to good eating and good drinking, till all that he had\nwith him of wealth[FN#4] was wasted and gone; whereupon he betook\nhimself to his friends and comrades and boon-companions and\nexpounded to them his case, discovering to them the failure of\nthat which was in his hand of wealth; but not one of them took\nheed of him neither inclined unto him.\n\nSo he returned to his mother (and indeed his spirit was broken),\nand related to her that which had happened to him and what had\nbetided him from his friends, how they, had neither shared with\nhim nor requited him with speech. \"O Aboulhusn,\" answered she,\n\"on this wise are the sons[FN#5]of this time: if thou have aught,\nthey make much of thee,[FN#6] and if thou have nought, they put\nthee away [from them].\" And she went on to condole with him, what\nwhile he bewailed himself and his tears flowed and he repeated\nthe following verses:\n\n     An if my substance fail, no one there is will succour me,\n          But if my wealth abound, of all I'm held in amity.\n     How many a friend, for money's sake, hath companied with me!\n          How many an one, with loss of wealth, hath turned mine\n          enemy!\n\nThen he sprang up [and going] to the place wherein was the other\nhalf of his good, [took it] and lived with it well; and he swore\nthat he would never again consort with those whom he knew, but\nwould company only with the stranger nor entertain him but one\nnight and that, whenas it morrowed, he would never know him more.\nSo he fell to sitting every night on the bridge[FN#7] and looking\non every one who passed by him; and if he saw him to be a\nstranger, he made friends with him and carried him to his house,\nwhere he caroused with him till the morning. Then he dismissed\nhim and would never more salute him nor ever again drew near unto\nhim neither invited him.\n\nOn this wise he continued to do for the space of a whole year,\ntill, one day, as he sat on the bridge, according to his custom,\nexpecting who should come to him, so he might take him and pass\nthe night with him, behold, [up came] the Khalif and Mesrour, the\nswordsman of his vengeance, disguised [in merchants' habits] as\nof their wont. So he looked at them and rising up, for that he\nknew them not, said to them, \"What say ye? Will you go with me to\nmy dwelling-place, so ye may eat what is ready and drink what is\nat hand, to wit, bread baked in the platter[FN#8] and meat cooked\nand wine clarified?\" The Khalif refused this, but he conjured him\nand said to him, \"God on thee, O my lord, go with me, for thou\nart my guest this night, and disappoint not my expectation\nconcerning thee!\" And he ceased not to press him till he\nconsented to him; whereat Aboulhusn rejoiced and going on before\nhim, gave not over talking with him till they came to his [house\nand he carried the Khalif into the] saloon. Er Reshid entered and\nmade his servant abide at the door; and as soon as he was seated,\nAboulhusn brought him somewhat to eat; so he ate, and Aboulhusn\nate with him, so eating might be pleasant to him. Then he removed\nthe tray and they washed their hands and the Khalif sat down\nagain; whereupon Aboulhusn set on the drinking vessels and\nseating himself by his side, fell to filling and giving him to\ndrink and entertaining him with discourse.\n\nHis hospitality pleased the Khalif and the goodliness of his\nfashion, and he said to him, \"O youth, who art thou? Make me\nacquainted with thyself, so I may requite thee thy kindness.\" But\nAboulhusn smiled and said, \"O my lord, far be it that what is\npast should recur and that I be in company with thee at other\nthan this time!\" \"Why so?\" asked the Khalif. \"And why wilt thou\nnot acquaint me with thy case?\" And Aboulhusn said, \"Know, O my\nlord, that my story is extraordinary and that there is a cause\nfor this affair.\" Quoth the Khalif, \"And what is the cause?\" And\nhe answered, \"The cause hath a tail.\" The Khalif laughed at his\nwords and Aboulhusn said, \"I will explain to thee this [saying]\nby the story of the lackpenny and the cook. Know, O my lord, that\n\n\n\n\n\n              STORY OF THE LACKPENNY AND THE COOK.\n\n\n\nOne of the good-for-noughts found himself one day without aught\nand the world was straitened upon him and his patience failed; so\nhe lay down to sleep and gave not over sleeping till the sun\nburnt him and the foam came out upon his mouth, whereupon he\narose, and he was penniless and had not so much as one dirhem.\nPresently, he came to the shop of a cook, who had set up therein\nhis pans[FN#9] [over the fire] and wiped his scales and washed\nhis saucers and swept his shop and sprinkled it; and indeed his\noils[FN#10] were clear[FN#11] and his spices fragrant and he\nhimself stood behind his cooking-pots [waiting for custom]. So\nthe lackpenny went up to him and saluting him, said to him,\n'Weigh me half a dirhem's worth of meat and a quarter of a\ndirhem's worth of kouskoussou[FN#12] and the like of bread.' So\nthe cook weighed out to him [that which he sought] and the\nlackpenny entered the shop, whereupon the cook set the food\nbefore him and he ate till he had gobbled up the whole and licked\nthe saucers and abode perplexed, knowing not how he should do\nwith the cook concerning the price of that which he had eaten and\nturning his eyes about upon everything in the shop.\n\nPresently, he caught sight of an earthen pan turned over upon its\nmouth; so he raised it from the ground and found under it a\nhorse's tail, freshly cut off, and the blood oozing from it;\nwhereby he knew that the cook adulterated his meat with horses'\nflesh. When he discovered this default, he rejoiced therein and\nwashing his hands, bowed his head and went out; and when the cook\nsaw that he went and gave him nought, he cried out, saying,\n'Stay, O sneak, O slink-thief!' So the lackpenny stopped and said\nto him, 'Dost thou cry out upon me and becall [me] with these\nwords, O cuckold?' Whereat the cook was angry and coming down\nfrom the shop, said, 'What meanest thou by thy speech, O thou\nthat devourest meat and kouskoussou and bread and seasoning and\ngoest forth with \"Peace[FN#13][be on thee!],\" as it were the\nthing had not been, and payest down nought for it?' Quoth the\nlackpenny, 'Thou liest, O son of a cuckold!' Wherewith the cook\ncried out and laying hold of the lackpenny's collar, said, 'O\nMuslims, this fellow is my first customer[FN#14] this day and he\nhath eaten my food and given me nought.'\n\nSo the folk gathered together to them and blamed the lackpenny\nand said to him, 'Give him the price of that which thou hast\neaten.' Quoth he, 'I gave him a dirhem before I entered the\nshop;' and the cook said, 'Be everything I sell this day\nforbidden[FN#15] to me, if he gave me so much as the name of a\npiece of money! By Allah, he gave me nought, but ate my food and\nwent out and [would have] made off, without aught [said I]'\n'Nay,' answered the lackpenny, 'I gave thee a dirhem,' and he\nreviled the cook, who returned his abuse; whereupon he dealt him\na cuff and they gripped and grappled and throttled each other.\nWhen the folk saw them on this wise, they came up to them and\nsaid to them, 'What is this strife between you, and no cause for\nit?' 'Ay, by Allah,' replied the lackpenny, 'but there is a cause\nfor it, and the cause hath a tail!' Whereupon, 'Yea, by Allah,'\ncried the cook, 'now thou mindest me of thyself and thy dirhem!\nYes, he gave me a dirhem and [but] a quarter of the price is\nspent. Come back and take the rest of the price of thy dirhem.'\nFor that he understood what was to do, at the mention of the\ntail; and I, O my brother,\" added Aboulhusn, \"my story hath a\ncause, which I will tell thee.\"\n\nThe Khalif laughed at his speech and said, \"By Allah, this is\nnone other than a pleasant tale! Tell me thy story and the\ncause.\" \"With all my heart,\" answered Aboulhusn. \"Know, O my\nlord, that my name is Aboulhusn el Khelia and that my father died\nand left me wealth galore, of which I made two parts. One I laid\nup and with the other I betook myself to [the enjoyment of the\npleasures of] friendship [and conviviality] and consorting with\ncomrades and boon-companions and with the sons of the merchants,\nnor did I leave one but I caroused with him and he with me, and I\nspent all my money on companionship and good cheer, till there\nremained with me nought [of the first half of my good]; whereupon\nI betook myself to the comrades and cup-companions upon whom I\nhad wasted my wealth, so haply they might provide for my case;\nbut, when I resorted to them and went round about to them all, I\nfound no avail in one of them, nor broke any so much as a crust\nof bread in my face. So I wept for myself and repairing to my\nmother, complained to her of my case. Quoth she, 'On this wise\nare friends; if thou have aught, they make much of thee and\ndevour thee, but, if thou have nought, they cast thee off and\nchase thee away.' Then I brought out the other half of my money\nand bound myself by an oath that I would never more entertain\nany, except one night, after which I would never again salute him\nnor take note of him; hence my saying to thee, 'Far be it that\nwhat is past should recur!' For that I will never again\nforegather with thee, after this night.\"\n\nWhen the Khalif heard this, he laughed heartily and said, \"By\nAllah, O my brother, thou art indeed excused in this matter, now\nthat I know the cause and that the cause hath a tail.\nNevertheless if it please God, I will not sever myself from\nthee.\" \"O my guest,\" replied Aboulhusn, \"did I not say to thee,\n'Far be it that what is past should recur! For that I will never\nagain foregather with any'?\" Then the Khalif rose and Aboulhusn\nset before him a dish of roast goose and a cake of manchet-bread\nand sitting down, fell to cutting off morsels and feeding the\nKhalif therewith. They gave not over eating thus till they were\ncontent, when Aboulhusn brought bowl and ewer and potash[FN#16]\nand they washed their hands.\n\nThen he lighted him three candles and three lamps and spreading\nthe drinking-cloth, brought clarified wine, limpid, old and\nfragrant, the scent whereof was as that of virgin musk. He filled\nthe first cup and saying, \"O my boon-companion, by thy leave, be\nceremony laid aside between us! I am thy slave; may I not be\nafflicted with thy loss!\" drank it off and filled a second cup,\nwhich he handed to the Khalif, with a reverence. His fashion\npleased the Khalif and the goodliness of his speech and he said\nin himself, \"By Allah, I will assuredly requite him for this!\"\nThen Aboulhusn filled the cup again and handed it to the Khalif,\nreciting the following verses:\n\nHad we thy coming known, we would for sacrifice Have poured thee\n     out heart's blood or blackness of the eyes;\nAy, and we would have spread our bosoms in thy way, That so thy\n     feet might fare on eyelids, carpet-wise.\n\nWhen the Khalif heard his verses, he took the cup from his hand\nand kissed it and drank it off and returned it to Aboulhusn, who\nmade him an obeisance and filled and drank. Then he filled again\nand kissing the cup thrice, recited the following verses:\n\n     Thy presence honoureth us and we Confess thy magnanimity;\n     If thou forsake us, there is none Can stand to us instead of\n        thee.\n\nThen he gave the cup to the Khalif, saying, \"Drink [and may]\nhealth and soundness [attend it]! It doth away disease and\nbringeth healing and setteth the runnels of health abroach.\"\n\nThey gave not over drinking and carousing till the middle of the\nnight, when the Khalif said to his host, \"O my brother, hast thou\nin thy heart a wish thou wouldst have accomplished or a regret\nthou wouldst fain do away?\" \"By Allah,\" answered he, \"there is no\nregret in my heart save that I am not gifted with dominion and\nthe power of commandment and prohibition, so I might do what is\nin my mind!\" Quoth the Khalif, \"For God's sake, O my brother,\ntell me what is in thy mind!\" And Aboulhusn said, \"I would to God\nI might avenge myself on my neighbours, for that in my\nneighbourhood is a mosque and therein four sheikhs, who take it\nill, whenas there cometh a guest to me, and vex me with talk and\nmolest me in words and threaten me that they will complain of me\nto the Commander of the Faithful, and indeed they oppress me\nsore, and I crave of God the Most High one day's dominion, that I\nmay beat each of them with four hundred lashes, as well as the\nImam of the mosque, and parade them about the city of Baghdad and\nlet call before them, 'This is the reward and the least of the\nreward of whoso exceedeth [in talk] and spiteth the folk and\ntroubleth on them their joys.' This is what I wish and no more.\"\n\nQuoth the Khalif, \"God grant thee that thou seekest! Let us drink\none last cup and rise before the dawn draw near, and to-morrow\nnight I will be with thee again.\" \"Far be it!\" said Aboulhusn.\nThen the Khalif filled a cup and putting therein a piece of\nCretan henbane, gave it to his host and said to him, \"My life on\nthee, O my brother, drink this cup from my hand!\" \"Ay, by thy\nlife,\" answered Aboulhusn, \"I will drink it from thy hand.\" So he\ntook it and drank it off; but hardly had he done so, when his\nhead forewent his feet and he fell to the ground like a slain\nman; whereupon the Khalif went out and said to his servant\nMesrour, \"Go in to yonder young man, the master of the house, and\ntake him up and bring him to me at the palace; and when thou\ngoest out, shut the door.\"\n\nSo saying, he went away, whilst Mesrour entered and taking up\nAboulhusn, shut the door after him, and followed his master, till\nhe reached the palace, what while the night drew to an end and\nthe cocks cried out, and set him down before the Commander of the\nFaithful, who laughed at him. Then he sent for Jaafer the\nBarmecide and when he came before him, he said to him, \"Note this\nyoung man and when thou seest him to-morrow seated in my place of\nestate and on the throne of my Khalifate and clad in my habit,\nstand thou in attendance upon him and enjoin the Amirs and\ngrandees and the people of my household and the officers of my\nrealm to do the like and obey him in that which he shall command\nthem; and thou, if he bespeak thee of anything, do it and hearken\nunto him and gainsay him not in aught in this coming day.\" Jaafer\nanswered with, \"Hearkening and obedience,\"[FN#17] and withdrew,\nwhilst the Khalif went in to the women of the palace, who came to\nhim, and he said to them, \"Whenas yonder sleeper awaketh\nto-morrow from his sleep, kiss ye the earth before him and make\nobeisance to him and come round about him and clothe him in the\n[royal] habit and do him the service of the Khalifate and deny\nnot aught of his estate, but say to him, 'Thou art the Khalif.'\"\nThen he taught them what they should say to him and how they\nshould do with him and withdrawing to a privy place, let down a\ncurtain before himself and slept.\n\nMeanwhile, Aboulhusn gave not over snoring in his sleep, till the\nday broke and the rising of the sun drew near, when a\nwaiting-woman came up to him and said to him, \"O our lord [it is\nthe hour of] the morning- prayer.\" When he heard the girl's\nwords, he laughed and opening his eyes, turned them about the\nplace and found himself in an apartment the walls whereof were\npainted with gold and ultramarine and its ceiling starred with\nred gold. Around it were sleeping-chambers, with curtains of\ngold-embroidered silk let down over their doors, and all about\nvessels of gold and porcelain and crystal and furniture and\ncarpets spread and lamps burning before the prayer-niche and\nslave-girls and eunuchs and white slaves and black slaves and\nboys and pages and attendants. When he saw this, he was\nconfounded in his wit and said, \"By Allah, either I am dreaming,\nor this is Paradise and the Abode of Peace!\"[FN#18] And he shut\nhis eyes and went to sleep again. Quoth the waiting-woman, \"O my\nlord, this is not of thy wont, O Commander of the Faithful!\"\n\nThen the rest of the women of the palace came all to him and\nlifted him into a sitting posture, when he found himself upon a\ncouch, stuffed all with floss-silk and raised a cubit's height\nfrom the ground.[FN#19] So they seated him upon it and propped\nhim up with a pillow, and he looked at the apartment and its\ngreatness and saw those eunuchs and slave-girls in attendance\nupon him and at his head, whereat he laughed at himself and said,\n\"By Allah, it is not as I were on wake, and [yet] I am not\nasleep!\" Then he arose and sat up, whilst the damsels laughed at\nhim and hid [their laughter] from him; and he was confounded in\nhis wit and bit upon his finger. The bite hurt him and he cried\n\"Oh!\" and was vexed; and the Khalif watched him, whence he saw\nhim not, and laughed.\n\nPresently Aboulhusn turned to a damsel and called to her;\nwhereupon she came to him and he said to her, \"By the protection\nof God, O damsel, am I Commander of the Faithful?\" \"Yes, indeed,\"\nanswered she; \"by the protection of God thou in this time art\nCommander of the Faithful.\" Quoth he, \"By Allah, thou liest, O\nthousandfold strumpet!\" Then he turned to the chief eunuch and\ncalled to him, whereupon he came to him and kissing the earth\nbefore him, said, \"Yes, O Commander of the Faithful.\" \"Who is\nCommander of the Faithful?\" asked Aboulhusn. \"Thou,\" replied the\neunuch and Aboulhusn said, \"Thou liest, thousandfold catamite\nthat thou art!\" Then he turned to another eunuch and said to him,\n\"O my chief,[FN#20] by the protection of God, am I Commander of\nthe Faithful?\" \"Ay, by Allah, O my lord!\" answered he. \"Thou in\nthis time art Commander of the Faithful and Vicar of the Lord of\nthe Worlds.\" Aboulhusn laughed at himself and misdoubted of his\nreason and was perplexed at what he saw and said, \"In one night I\nam become Khalif! Yesterday I was Aboulhusn the Wag, and to-day I\nam Commander of the Faithful.\" Then the chief eunuch came up to\nhim and said, \"O Commander of the Faithful, (the name of God\nencompass thee!) thou art indeed Commander of the Faithful and\nVicar of the Lord of the Worlds!\" And the slave-girls and eunuchs\ncame round about him, till he arose and abode wondering at his\ncase.\n\nPresently, one of the slave-girls brought him a pair of sandals\nwrought with raw silk and green silk and embroidered with red\ngold, and he took them and put them in his sleeve, whereat the\nslave cried out and said, \"Allah! Allah! O my lord, these are\nsandals for the treading of thy feet, so thou mayst enter the\ndraught-house.\" Aboulhusn was confounded and shaking the sandals\nfrom his sleeve, put them on his feet, whilst the Khalif\n[well-nigh] died of laughter at him. The slave forewent him to\nthe house of easance, where he entered and doing his occasion,\ncame out into the chamber, whereupon the slave- girls brought him\na basin of gold and an ewer of silver and poured water on his\nhands and he made the ablution.\n\nThen they spread him a prayer-carpet and he prayed. Now he knew\nnot how to pray and gave not over bowing and prostrating himself,\n[till he had prayed the prayers] of twenty inclinations,[FN#21]\npondering in himself the while and saying, \"By Allah, I am none\nother than the Commander of the Faithful in very sooth! This is\nassuredly no dream, for all these things happen not in a dream.\"\nAnd he was convinced and determined in himself that he was\nCommander of the Faithful; so he pronounced the Salutation[FN#22]\nand made an end[FN#23] of his prayers; whereupon the slaves and\nslave-girls came round about him with parcels of silk and\nstuffs[FN#24] and clad him in the habit of the Khalifate and gave\nhim the royal dagger in his hand. Then the chief eunuch went out\nbefore him and the little white slaves behind him, and they\nceased not [going] till they raised the curtain and brought him\ninto the hall of judgment and the throne-room of the Khalifate.\nThere he saw the curtains and the forty doors and El Ijli and Er\nRecashi[FN#25] and Ibdan and Jedim and Abou Ishac [FN#26] the\nboon-companions and beheld swords drawn and lions [FN#27]\nencompassing [the throne] and gilded glaives and death-dealing\nbows and Persians and Arabs and Turks and Medes and folk and\npeoples and Amirs and viziers and captains and grandees and\nofficers of state and men of war, and indeed there appeared the\npuissance of the house of Abbas [FN#28] and the majesty of the\nfamily of the Prophet.\n\nSo he sat down upon the throne of the Khalifate and laid the\ndagger in his lap, whereupon all [present] came up to kiss the\nearth before him and called down on him length of life and\ncontinuance [of glory and prosperity]. Then came forward Jaafer\nthe Barmecide and kissing the earth, said, \"May the wide world of\nGod be the treading of thy feet and may Paradise be thy\ndwelling-place and the fire the habitation of thine enemies! May\nno neighbour transgress against thee nor the lights of fire die\nout for thee, [FN#29] O Khalif of [all] cities and ruler of [all]\ncountries!\"\n\nTherewithal Aboulhusn cried out at him and said, \"O dog of the\nsons of Bermek, go down forthright, thou and the master of the\npolice of the city, to such a place in such a street and deliver\na hundred dinars to the mother of Aboulhusn the Wag and bear her\nmy salutation. [Then, go to such a mosque] and take the four\nsheikhs and the Imam and beat each of them with four hundred\nlashes and mount them on beasts, face to tail, and go round with\nthem about all the city and banish them to a place other than the\ncity; and bid the crier make proclamation before them, saying,\n'This is the reward and the least of the reward of whoso\nmultiplieth words and molesteth his neighbours and stinteth them\nof their delights and their eating and drinking!'\" Jaafer\nreceived the order [with submission] and answered with\n[\"Hearkening and] obedience;\" after which he went down from\nbefore Aboulhusn to the city and did that whereunto he had bidden\nhim.\n\nMeanwhile, Aboulhusn abode in the Khalifate, taking and giving,\nordering and forbidding and giving effect to his word, till the\nend of the day, when he gave [those who were present] leave and\npermission [to withdraw], and the Amirs and officers of state\ndeparted to their occasions. Then the eunuchs came to him and\ncalling down on him length of life and continuance [of glory and\nprosperity], walked in attendance upon him and raised the\ncurtain, and he entered the pavilion of the harem, where he found\ncandles lighted and lamps burning and singing-women smiting [on\ninstruments of music]. When he saw this, he was confounded in his\nwit and said in himself, \"By Allah, I am in truth Commander of\nthe Faithful!\" As soon as he appeared, the slave-girls rose to\nhim and carrying him up on to the estrade,[FN#30] brought him a\ngreat table, spread with the richest meats. So he ate thereof\nwith all his might, till he had gotten his fill, when he called\none of the slave-girls and said to her, \"What is thy name?\" \"My\nname is Miskeh,\" replied she, and he said to another, \"What is\nthy name?\" Quoth she, \"My name is Terkeh.\" Then said he to a\nthird, \"What is thy name?\" \"My name is Tuhfeh,\" answered she; and\nhe went on to question the damsels of their names, one after\nanother, [till he had made the round of them all], when he rose\nfrom that place and removed to the wine-chamber.\n\nHe found it every way complete and saw therein ten great trays,\nfull of all fruits and cakes and all manner sweetmeats. So he sat\ndown and ate thereof after the measure of his sufficiency, and\nfinding there three troops of singing-girls, was amazed and made\nthe girls eat. Then he sat and the singers also seated\nthemselves, whilst the black slaves and the white slaves and the\neunuchs and pages and boys stood, and the slave-girls, some of\nthem, sat and some stood. The damsels sang and warbled all manner\nmelodies and the place answered them for the sweetness of the\nsongs, whilst the pipes cried out and the lutes made accord with\nthem, till it seemed to Aboulhusn that he was in Paradise and his\nheart was cheered and his breast dilated. So he sported and\njoyance waxed on him and he bestowed dresses of honour on the\ndamsels and gave and bestowed, challenging this one and kissing\nthat and toying with a third, plying one with wine and another\nwith meat, till the night fell down.\n\nAll this while the Khalif was diverting himself with watching him\nand laughing, and at nightfall he bade one of the slave-girls\ndrop a piece of henbane in the cup and give it to Aboulhusn to\ndrink. So she did as he bade her and gave Aboulhusn the cup,\nwhereof no sooner had he drunken than his head forewent his feet\n[and he fell down, senseless]. Therewith the Khalif came forth\nfrom behind the curtain, laughing, and calling to the servant who\nhad brought Aboulhusn to the palace, said to him, \"Carry this\nfellow to his own place.\" So Mesrour took him up [and carrying\nhim to his own house], set him down in the saloon. Then he went\nforth from him and shutting the saloon-door upon him, returned to\nthe Khalif, who slept till the morrow.\n\nAs for Aboulhusn, he gave not over sleeping till God the Most\nHigh brought on the morning, when he awoke, crying out and\nsaying, \"Ho, Tuffaheh! Ho, Rahet el Culoub! Ho, Miskeh! Ho,\nTuhfeh!\" And he gave not over calling upon the slave-girls till\nhis mother heard him calling upon strange damsels and rising,\ncame to him and said, \"The name of God encompass thee! Arise, O\nmy son, O Aboulhusn! Thou dreamest.\" So he opened his eyes and\nfinding an old woman at his head, raised his eyes and said to\nher, \"Who art thou?\" Quoth she, \"I am thy mother;\" and he\nanswered, \"Thou liest! I am the Commander of the Faithful, the\nVicar of God.\" Whereupon his mother cried out and said to him,\n\"God preserve thy reason! Be silent, O my son, and cause not the\nloss of our lives and the spoiling of thy wealth, [as will\nassuredly betide,] if any hear this talk and carry it to the\nKhalif.\"\n\nSo he rose from his sleep and finding himself in his own saloon\nand his mother by him, misdoubted of his wit and said to her, \"By\nAllah, O my mother, I saw myself in a dream in a palace, with\nslave-girls and servants about me and in attendance upon me, and\nI sat upon the throne of the Khalifate and ruled. By Allah, O my\nmother, this is what I saw, and verily it was not a dream!\" Then\nhe bethought himself awhile and said, \"Assuredly, I am Aboulhusn\nel Khelia, and this that I saw was only a dream, and [it was in a\ndream that] I was made Khalif and commanded and forbade.\" Then he\nbethought himself again and said, \"Nay, but it was no dream and I\nam no other than the Khalif, and indeed I gave gifts and bestowed\ndresses of honour.\" Quoth his mother to him, \"O my son, thou\nsportest with thy reason: thou wilt go to the hospital and become\na gazing-stock. Indeed, that which thou hast seen is only from\nthe Devil and it was a delusion of dreams, for whiles Satan\nsporteth with men's wits in all manner ways.\"\n\nThen said she to him, \"O my son, was there any one with thee\nyesternight?\" And he bethought himself and said, \"Yes; one lay\nthe night with me and I acquainted him with my case and told him\nmy story. Doubtless, he was from the Devil, and I, O my mother,\neven as thou sayst truly, am Aboulhusn el Khelia.\" \"O my son,\"\nrejoined she, \"rejoice in tidings of all good, for yesterday's\nrecord is that there came the Vivier Jaafer the Barmecide [and\nhis company] and beat the sheikhs of the mosque and the Imam,\neach four hundred lashes; after which they paraded them about the\ncity, making proclamation before them and saying, 'This is the\nreward and the least of the reward of whoso lacketh of goodwill\nto his neighbours and troubleth on them their lives!' and\nbanished them from Baghdad. Moreover, the Khalif sent me a\nhundred dinars and sent to salute me.\" Whereupon Aboulhusn cried\nout and said to her, \"O old woman of ill-omen, wilt thou\ncontradict me and tell me that I am not the Commander of the\nFaithful? It was I who commanded Jaafer the Barmecide to beat the\nsheikhs and parade them about the city and make proclamation\nbefore them and who sent thee the hundred dinars and sent to\nsalute thee, and I, O beldam of ill-luck, am in very deed the\nCommander of the Faithful, and thou art a liar, who would make me\nout a dotard.\"\n\nSo saying, he fell upon her and beat her with a staff of\nalmond-wood, till she cried out, \"[Help], O Muslims!\" and he\nredoubled the beating upon her, till the folk heard her cries and\ncoming to her, [found] Aboulhusn beating her and saying to her,\n\"O old woman of ill-omen, am I not the Commander of the Faithful?\nThou hast enchanted me!\" When the folk heard his words, they\nsaid, \"This man raveth,\" and doubted not of his madness. So they\ncame in upon him and seizing him, pinioned him and carried him to\nthe hospital. Quoth the superintendant, \"What aileth this youth?\"\nAnd they said, \"This is a madman.\" \"By Allah,\" cried Aboulhusn,\n\"they lie against me! I am no madman, but the Commander of the\nFaithful.\" And the superintendant answered him, saying, \"None\nlieth but thou, O unluckiest of madmen!\"\n\nThen he stripped him of his clothes and clapping on his neck a\nheavy chain, bound him to a high lattice and fell to drubbing him\ntwo bouts a day and two anights; and on this wise he abode the\nspace of ten days. Then his mother came to him and said, \"O my\nson, O Aboulhusn, return to thy reason, for this is the Devil's\ndoing.\" Quoth he, \"Thou sayst sooth, O my mother, and bear thou\nwitness of me that I repent [and forswear] that talk and turn\nfrom my madness. So do thou deliver me, for I am nigh upon\ndeath.\" So his mother went out to the superintendant and procured\nhis release and he returned to his own house.\n\nNow this was at the beginning of the month, and when it was the\nend thereof, Aboulhusn longed to drink wine and returning to his\nformer usance, furnished his saloon and made ready food and let\nbring wine; then, going forth to the bridge, he sat there,\nexpecting one whom he should carouse withal, as of his wont. As\nhe sat thus, behold, up came the Khalif [and Mesrour] to him; but\nAboulhusn saluted them not and said to them, \"No welcome and no\ngreeting to the perverters![FN#31] Ye are no other than devils.\"\nHowever, the Khalif accosted him and said to him, \"O my brother,\ndid I not say to thee that I would return to thee?\" Quoth\nAboulhusn, \"I have no need of thee; and as the byword says in\nverse:\n\n'Twere fitter and better my loves that I leave, For, if the eye\n     see not, the heart will not grieve.\n\nAnd indeed, O my brother, the night thou camest to me and we\ncaroused together, I and thou, it was as if the Devil came to me\nand troubled me that night.\" \"And who is he, the Devil?\" asked\nthe Khalif. \"He is none other than thou,\" answered Aboulhusn;\nwhereat the Khalif smiled and sitting down by him, coaxed him and\nspoke him fair, saying, \"O my brother, when I went out from thee,\nI forgot [to shut] the door [and left it] open, and belike Satan\ncame in to thee.\" Quoth Aboulhusn, \"Ask me not of that which hath\nbetided me. What possessed thee to leave the door open, so that\nthe Devil came in to me and there befell me with him this and\nthat?\" And he related to him all that had befallen him, from\nfirst to last, aud there is no advantage in the repetition of it;\nwhat while the Khalif laughed and hid his laughter.\n\nThen said he to Aboulhusn, \"Praised be God who hath done away\nfrom thee that which irked thee and that I see thee in weal!\" And\nAboulhusn said, \"Never again will I take thee to boon-companion\nor sitting-mate; for the byword saith, 'Whoso stumbleth on a\nstone and returneth thereto, blame and reproach be upon him.' And\nthou, O my brother, nevermore will I entertain thee nor use\ncompanionship with thee, for that I have not found thy commerce\npropitious to me.\"[FN#32] But the Khalif blandished him and\nconjured him, redoubling words upon him with \"Verily, I am thy\nguest; reject not the guest,\" till Aboulhusn took him and\n[carrying him home], brought him into the saloon and set food\nbefore him and friendly entreated him in speech. Then he told him\nall that had befallen him, whilst the Khalif was like to die of\nhidden laughter; after which Aboulhusn removed the tray of food\nand bringing the wine-tray, filled a cup and emptied it out three\ntimes, then gave it to the Khalif, saying, \"O boon-companion\nmine, I am thy slave and let not that which I am about to say irk\nthee, and be thou not vexed, neither do thou vex me.\" And he\nrecited these verses:\n\nNo good's in life (to the counsel list of one who's\n     purpose-whole,) An if thou be not drunken still and gladden\n     not thy soul.\nAy, ne'er will I leave to drink of wine, what while the night on\n     me Darkens, till drowsiness bow down my head upon my bowl.\nIn wine, as the glittering sunbeams bright, my heart's\n     contentment is, That banishes hence, with various joys, all\n     kinds of care and dole.\n\nWhen the Khalif heard these his verses, he was moved to exceeding\ndelight and taking the cup, drank it off, and they ceased not to\ndrink and carouse till the wine rose to their heads. Then said\nAboulhusn to the Khalif, \"O boon-companion mine, of a truth I am\nperplexed concerning my affair, for meseemed I was Commander of\nthe Faithful and ruled and gave gifts and largesse, and in very\ndeed, O my brother, it was not a dream.\" \"These were the\ndelusions of sleep,\" answered the Khalif and crumbling a piece of\nhenbane into the cup, said to him, \"By my life, do thou drink\nthis cup.\" And Aboulhusn said, \"Surely I will drink it from thy\nhand.\" Then he took the cup from the Khalifs hand and drank it\noff, and no sooner had it settled in his belly than his head\nforewent his feet [and he fell down senseless].\n\nNow his parts and fashions pleased the Khalif and the excellence\nof his composition and his frankness, and he said in himself, \"I\nwill assuredly make him my cup- companion and sitting-mate.\" So\nhe rose forthright and saying to Mesrour, \"Take him up,\"\n[returned to the palace]. Accordingly, Mesrour took up Aboulhusn\nand carrying him to the palace of the Khalifate, set him down\nbefore Er Reshid, who bade the slaves and slave- girls encompass\nhim about, whilst he himself hid in a place where Aboulhusn could\nnot see him.\n\nThen he commanded one of the slave-girls to take the lute and\nstrike it at Aboulhusn's head, whilst the rest smote upon their\ninstruments. [So they played and sang,] till Aboulhusn awoke at\nthe last of the night and heard the noise of lutes and tabrets\nand the sound of the pipes and the singing of the slave-girls,\nwhereupon he opened his eyes and finding himself in the palace,\nwith the slave-girls and eunuchs about him, exclaimed, 'There is\nno power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme!\nVerily, I am fearful of the hospital and of that which I suffered\ntherein aforetime, and I doubt not but the Devil is come to me\nagain, as before. O my God, put thou Satan to shame!\" Then he\nshut his eyes and laid his head in his sleeve and fell to\nlaughing softly and raising his head [bytimes], but [still] found\nthe apartment lighted and the girls singing.\n\nPresently, one of the eunuchs sat down at his head and said to\nhim, \"Sit up, O Commander of the Faithful, and look on thy palace\nand thy slave-girls.\" Quoth Aboulhusn, \"By the protection of God,\nam I in truth Commander of the Faithful and dost thou not lie?\nYesterday, I went not forth neither ruled, but drank and slept,\nand this eunuch cometh to rouse me up.\" Then he sat up and\nbethought himself of that which had betided him with his mother\nand how he had beaten her and entered the hospital, and he saw\nthe marks of the beating, wherewithal the superintendant of the\nhospital had beaten him, and was perplexed concerning his affair\nand pondered in himself, saying, \"By Allah, I know not how my\ncase is nor what is this that betideth me!\"\n\nThen he turned to a damsel of the damsels and said to her, \"Who\nam I?\" Quoth she, \"Thou art the Commander of the Faithful;\" and\nhe said, \"Thou liest, O calamity![FN#33] If I be indeed the\nCommander of the Faithful, bite my finger.\" So she came to him\nand bit it with her might, and he said to her, \"It sufficeth.\"\nThen he said to the chief eunuch, \"Who am I?\" And he answered,\n\"Thou art the Commander of the Faithful.\" So he left him and\nturning to a little white slave, said to him, \"Bite my ear;\" and\nhe bent down to him and put his ear to his mouth. Now the slave\nwas young and lacked understanding; so he closed his teeth upon\nAboulhusn's ear with his might, till he came near to sever it;\nand he knew not Arabic, so, as often as Aboulhusn said to him,\n\"It sufficeth,\" he concluded that he said, \"Bite harder,\" and\nredoubled his bite and clenched his teeth upon the ear, whilst\nthe damsels were diverted from him with hearkening to the\nsinging-girls, and Aboulhusn cried out for succour from the boy\nand the Khalif [well-nigh] lost his senses for laughter.\n\nThen he dealt the boy a cuff and he let go his ear, whereupon\nAboulhusn put off his clothes and abode naked, with his yard and\nhis arse exposed, and danced among the slave-girls. They bound\nhis hands and he wantoned among them, what while they [well-nigh]\ndied of laughing at him and the Khalif swooned away for excess of\nlaughter. Then he came to himself and going forth to Aboulhusn,\nsaid to him, \"Out on thee, O Aboulhusn! Thou slayest me with\nlaughter.\" So he turned to him and knowing him, said to him, \"By\nAllah, it is thou slayest me and slayest my mother and slewest\nthe sheikhs and the Imam of the Mosque!\"\n\nThen the Khalif took him into his especial favour and married him\nand bestowed largesse on him and lodged him with himself in the\npalace and made him of the chief of his boon-companions, and\nindeed he was preferred with him above them and the Khalif\nadvanced him over them all. Now they were ten in number, to wit,\nEl Ijli and Er Recashi and Ibdan and Hassan el Feresdec and El\nLauz and Es Seker and Omar et Tertis and Abou Nuwas[FN#34] and\nAbou Ishac en Nedim and Aboulhusn el Khelia, and by each of them\nhangeth a story that is told in other than this book. And indeed\nAboulhusn became high in honour with the Khalif and favoured\nabove all, so that he sat with him and the Lady Zubeideh bint el\nCasim and married the latter's treasuress, whose name was Nuzhet\nel Fuad.\n\nAboulhusn abode with his wife in eating and drinking and all\ndelight of life, till all that was with them was spent, when he\nsaid to her, \"Harkye, O Nuzhet el Fuad!\" \"At thy service,\"\nanswered she, and he said, \"I have it in mind to play a trick on\nthe Khalif and thou shalt do the like with the Lady Zubeideh, and\nwe will take of them, in a twinkling, two hundred dinars and two\npieces of silk.\" \"As thou wilt,\" answered she; \"but what thinkest\nthou to do?\" And he said,\"We will feign ourselves dead and this\nis the trick. I will die before thee and lay myself out, and do\nthou spread over me a kerchief of silk and loose [the muslin of]\nmy turban over me and tie my toes and lay on my heart a knife,\nand a little salt.[FN#35] Then let down thy hair and betake\nthyself to thy mistress Zubeideh, tearing thy dress and buffeting\nthy face and crying out. She will say to thee, 'What aileth\nthee?' and do thou answer her, saying, 'May thy head outlive\nAboulhusn el Khelia! For he is dead.\" She will mourn for me and\nweep and bid her treasuress give thee a hundred dinars and a\npiece of silk and will say to thee, 'Go lay him out and carry him\nforth [to burial].' So do thou take of her the hundred dinars and\nthe piece of silk and come back, and when thou returnest to me, I\nwill rise up and thou shalt lie down in my place, and I will go\nto the Khalif and say to him, 'May thy head outlive Nuzhet el\nFuad!' and tear my dress and pluck at my beard. He will mourn for\nthee and say to his treasurer, 'Give Aboulhusn a hundred dinars\nand a piece of silk.' Then he will say to me, 'Go; lay her out\nand carry her forth;' and I will come back to thee.\"\n\nTherewith Nuzhet el Fuad rejoiced and said, \"Indeed, this is an\nexcellent device.\" [Then Aboulhusn stretched himself out]\nforthright and she shut his eyes and tied his feet and covered\nhim with the kerchief and did what [else] her lord had bidden\nher; after which she rent her dress and uncovering her head, let\ndown her hair and went in to the Lady Zubeideh, crying out and\nweeping, When the princess saw her in this case, she said to her,\n\"What plight is this [in which I see thee]? What is thy story and\nwhat maketh thee weep?\" And Nuzhet el Fuad answered, weeping and\ncrying out the while, \"O my lady, may thy head live and mayst\nthou survive Aboulhusn el Khelia! For he is dead.\" The Lady\nZubeideh mourned for him and said, \"Alas for Aboulhusn el\nKhelia!\" And she wept for him awhile. Then she bade her\ntreasuress give Nuzhet el Fuad a hundred dinars and a piece of\nsilk and said to her, \"O Nuzhet el Fuad, go, lay him out and\ncarry him forth.\"\n\nSo she took the hundred dinars and the piece of silk and returned\nto her dwelling, rejoicing, and went in to Aboulhusn and told him\nwhat had befallen, whereupon he arose and rejoiced and girt his\nmiddle and danced and took the hundred dinars and the piece of\nsilk and laid them up. Then he laid out Nuzhet el Fuad and did\nwith her even as she had done with him; after which he rent his\nclothes and plucked out his beard and disordered his turban [and\nwent forth] and gave not over running till he came in to the\nKhalif, who was sitting in the hall of audience, and he in this\nplight, beating upon his breast. Quoth the Khalif to him, \"What\naileth thee, O Aboulhusn!\" And he wept and said, \"Would thy\nboon-companion had never been and would his hour had never come!\"\n\"Tell me [thy case,]\" said the Khalif; and Aboulhusn said, \"O my\nlord, may thy head outlive Nuzhet el Fuad!\" Quoth the Khalif,\n\"There is no god but God!\" And he smote hand upon hand. Then he\ncomforted Aboulhusn and said to him, \"Grieve not, for we will\ngive thee a concubine other than she.\" And he bade the treasurer\ngive him a hundred dinars and a piece of silk. So the treasurer\ngave him what the Khalif bade him, and the latter said to\nhim,\"Go, lay her out and carry her forth and make her a handsome\nfuneral.\" So Aboulhusn took that which he had given him and\nreturning to his house, rejoicing, went in to Nuzhet el Fuad and\nsaid to her, \"Arise, for the wish is accomplished unto us.\" So\nshe arose and he laid before her the hundred dinars and the piece\nof silk, whereat she rejoiced, and they added the gold to the\ngold and the silk to the silk and sat talking and laughing at one\nanother.\n\nMeanwhile, when Aboulhusn went out from the presence of the\nKhalif and went to lay out Nuzhet el Fuad, the prince mourned for\nher and dismissing the divan, arose and betook himself, leaning\nupon Mesrour, the swordsman of his vengeance, [to the pavilion of\nthe harem, where he went in] to the Lady Zubeideh, that he might\ncondole with her for her slave-girl. He found the princess\nsitting weeping and awaiting his coming, so she might condole\nwith him for [his boon-companion] Aboulhusn el Khelia. So he said\nto her, \"May thy head outlive thy slave-girl Nuzhet el Fuad!\" And\nshe answered, saying, \"O my lord, God preserve my slave-girl!\nMayst thou live and long survive thy boon-companion Aboulhusn el\nKhelia! For he is dead.\"\n\nThe Khalif smiled and said to his eunuch, \"O Mesrour, verily\nwomen are little of wit. I conjure thee, by Allah, say, was not\nAboulhusn with me but now?\" [\"Yes, O Commander of the Faithful,\"\nanswered Mesrour] Quoth the Lady Zubeideh, laughing from a heart\nfull of wrath, \"Wilt thou not leave thy jesting? Is it not enough\nthat Aboulhusn is dead, but thou must kill my slave-girl also and\nbereave us of the two and style me little of wit?\" \"Indeed,\"\nanswered the Khalif, \"it is Nuzhet el Fuad who is dead.\" And\nZubeideh said, \"Indeed he hath not been with thee, nor hast thou\nseen him, and none was with me but now but Nuzhet el Fuad, and\nshe sorrowful, weeping, with her clothes torn. I exhorted her to\npatience and gave her a hundred dinars and a piece of silk; and\nindeed I was awaiting thy coming, so I might condole with thee\nfor thy boon- companion Aboulhusn el Khelia, and was about to\nsend for thee.\" The Khalif laughed and said, \"None is dead but\nNuzhet el Fuad;\" and she, \"No, no, my lord; none is dead but\nAboulhusn.\"\n\nWith this the Khalif waxed wroth, and the Hashimi vein[FN#36]\nstarted out from between his eyes and he cried out to Mesrour and\nsaid to him, \"Go forth and see which of them is dead.\" So Mesrour\nwent out, running, and the Khalif said to Zubeideh, \"Wilt thou\nlay me a wager?\" \"Yes,\" answered she; \"I will wager, and I say\nthat Aboulhusn is dead.\" \"And I,\" rejoined the Khalif, \"wager and\nsay that none is dead save Nuzhet el Fuad; and the stake shall be\nthe Garden of Pleasance against thy palace and the Pavilion of\nPictures.\" So they [agreed upon this and] abode awaiting Mesrour,\ntill such time as he should return with news.\n\nAs for Mesrour, he gave not over running till he came to the\nby-street, [wherein was the house] of Aboulhusn el Khelia. Now\nthe latter was sitting reclining at the lattice, and chancing to\nlook round, saw Mesrour running along the street and said to\nNuzhet el Fuad, \"Meseemeth the Khalif, when I went forth from\nhim, dismissed the Divan and went in to the Lady Zubeideh, to\ncondole with her [for thee;] whereupon she arose and condoled\nwith him [for me,] saying, 'God greaten thy recompence for [the\nloss of] Aboulhusn el Khelia!' And he said to her, 'None is dead\nsave Nuzhet el Fuad, may thy head outlive her!' Quoth she, 'It is\nnot she who is dead, but Aboulhusn el Khelia, thy\nboon-companion.' And he to her, 'None is dead but Nuzhet el\nFuad.' And they gainsaid one another, till the Khalif waxed wroth\nand they laid a wager, and he hath sent Mesrour the sword- bearer\nto see who is dead. Wherefore it were best that thou lie down, so\nhe may see thee and go and acquaint the Khalif and confirm my\nsaying.\" So Nuzhet el Fuad stretched herself out and Aboulhusn\ncovered her with her veil and sat at her head, weeping.\n\nPresently, in came Mesrour the eunuch to him and saluted him and\nseeing Nuzhet el Fuad stretched out, uncovered her face and said,\n\"There is no god but God! Our sister Nuzhet el Fuad is dead. How\nsudden was the [stroke of] destiny! May God have mercy on thee\nand acquit thee of responsibility!\" Then he returned and related\nwhat had passed before the Khalif and the Lady Zubeideh, and he\nlaughing. \"O accursed one,' said the Khalif, \"is this a time for\nlaughter? Tell us which is dead of them.\" \"By Allah, O my lord,\"\nanswered Mesrour, \"Aboulhusn is well and none is dead but Nuzhet\nel Fuad.\" Quoth the Khalif to Zubeideh, \"Thou hast lost thy\npavilion in thy play,\" and he laughed at her and said to Mesrour,\n\"O Mesrour, tell her what thou sawest.\" \"Verily, O my lady,\" said\nthe eunuch, \"I ran without ceasing till I came in to Aboulhusn in\nhis house and found Nuzhet el Fuad lying dead and Aboulhusn\nsitting at her head, weeping. I saluted him and condoled with him\nand sat down by his side and uncovered the face of Nuzhet el Fuad\nand saw her dead and her face swollen. So I said to him, 'Carry\nher out forthright [to burial], so we may pray over her.' He\nanswered, 'It is well;' and I left him to lay her out and came\nhither, that I might tell you the news.\"\n\nThe Khalif laughed and said, \"Tell it again and again to thy lady\nlack-wit.\" When the Lady Zubeideh heard Mesrour's words [and\nthose of the Khalif,] she was wroth and said, \"None lacketh wit\nbut he who believeth a black slave.\" And she reviled Mesrour,\nwhilst the Khalif laughed. Mesrour was vexed at this and said to\nthe Khalif, \"He spoke sooth who said, 'Women lack wit and\nreligion.'\" Then said the Lady Zubeideh to the Khalif, \"O\nCommander of the Faithful, thou sportest and jestest with me, and\nthis slave hoodwinketh me, to please thee; but I will send and\nsee which is dead of them.\" And he answered, saying, \"Send one\nwho shall see which is dead of them.\" So the Lady Zubeideh cried\nout to an old woman, a stewardess, and said to her, \"Go to the\nhouse of Nuzhet el Fuad in haste and see who is dead and loiter\nnot.\" And she railed at her.\n\nThe old woman went out, running, whilst the Khalif and Mesrour\nlaughed, and gave not over running till she came into the street.\nAboulhusn saw her and knowing her, said to his wife, \"O Nuzhet el\nFuad, meseemeth the Lady Zubeideh hath sent to us to see who is\ndead and hath not given credence to Mesrour's report of thy\ndeath; so she hath despatched the old woman, her stewardess, to\ndiscover the truth; wherefore it behoveth me to be dead in my\nturn, for the sake of thy credit with the Lady Zubeideh.\"\nAccordingly, he lay down and stretched himself out, and she\ncovered him and bound his eyes and feet and sat at his head,\nweeping.\n\nPresently, the old woman came in to her and saw her sitting at\nAboulhusn's head, weeping and lamenting; and when she saw the old\nwoman, she cried out and said to her, \"See what hath betided me!\nIndeed, Aboulhusn is dead and hath left me alone and forlorn!\"\nThen she cried out and tore her clothes and said to the old\nwoman, \"O my mother, how good he was!\" Quoth the other, \"Indeed\nthou art excused, for thou wast used to him and he to thee.\" Then\nshe considered what Mesrour had reported to the Khalif and the\nLady Zubeideh and said to her, \"Indeed, Mesrour goeth about to\nsow discord between the Khalif and the Lady Zubeideh.\" \"And what\nis the [cause of] discord, O my mother?\" asked Nuzhet el Fuad. \"O\nmy daughter,\" answered the old woman, \"Mesrour came to the Khalif\nand the Lady Zubeideh and gave them news of thee that thou wast\ndead and that Aboulhusn was well. \"And Nuzhet el Fuad said to\nher, \"O my aunt, I was with my lady but now and she gave me a\nhundred dinars and a piece of silk; and now see my condition and\nthat which hath befallen me! Indeed, I am bewildered, and how\nshall I do, and I alone, forlorn? Would God I had died and he had\nlived!\"\n\nThen she wept and the old woman with her and the latter went up\nto Aboulhusn and uncovering his face, saw his eyes bound and\nswollen for the binding. So she covered him again and said,\n\"Indeed, O Nuzhet el Fuad, thou art afflicted in Aboulhusn!\" Then\nshe condoled with her and going out from her, ran without ceasing\ntill she came in to the Lady Zubeideh and related to her the\nstory; and the princess said to her, laughing, \"Tell it over\nagain to the Khalif, who maketh me out scant of wit and lacking\nof religion, and to this ill-omened slave, who presumeth to\ncontradict me.\" Quoth Mesrour, \"This old woman lieth; for I saw\nAboulhusn well and Nuzhet el Fuad it was who lay dead.\" \"It is\nthou that liest,\" rejoined the stewardess, \"and wouldst fain sow\ndiscord between the Khalif and the Lady Zubeideh.\" And he said,\n\"None lieth but thou, O old woman of ill-omen, and thy lady\nbelieveth thee, and she doteth.\" Whereupon the Lady Zubeideh\ncried out at him, and indeed she was enraged at him and at his\nspeech and wept.\n\nThen said the Khalif to her, \"I lie and my eunuch lieth, and thou\nliest and thy waiting-woman lieth; so methinks we were best go,\nall four of us together, that we may see which of us telleth the\ntruth.\" Quoth Mesrour, \"Come, let us go, that I may put this\nill-omened old woman to shame[FN#37] and deal her a sound\ndrubbing for her lying.\" And she answered him, saying, \"O dotard,\nis thy wit like unto my wit? Indeed, thy wit is as the hen's\nwit.\" Mesrour was incensed at her words and would have laid\nviolent hands on her, but the Lady Zubeideh warded him off from\nher and said to him, \"Her sooth-fastness will presently be\ndistinguished from thy sooth-fastness and her leasing from thy\nleasing.\"\n\nThen they all four arose, laying wagers with one another, and\nwent forth, walking, from the palace-gate [and fared on] till\nthey came in at the gate of the street in which Aboulhusn el\nKhelia dwelt. He saw them and said to his wife Nuzhet el Fuad,\n\"Verily, all that is sticky is not a pancake and not every time\ncometh the jar off safe.[FN#38]' Meseemeth the old woman hath\ngone and told her lady and acquainted her with our case and she\nhath disputed with Mesrour the eunuch and they have laid wagers\nwith one another about our death and are come to us, all four,\nthe Khalif and the eunuch and the Lady Zubeideh and the old\nwoman.\" When Nuzhet el Fuad heard this, she started up from her\nlying posture and said, \"How shall we do?\" And he said, \"We will\nboth feign ourselves dead and stretch ourselves out and hold our\nbreath.\" So she hearkened unto him and they both lay down on the\nsiesta[-carpet] and bound their feet and shut their eyes and\ncovered themselves with the veil and held their breath.\n\nPresently, up came the Khalif and the Lady Zubeideh and Mesrour\nand the old woman and entering, found Aboulhusn and his wife both\nstretched out [apparently] dead; which when the Lady Zubeideh\nsaw, she wept and said, \"They ceased not to bring [ill] news of\nmy slave- girl, till she died; methinketh Aboulhusn's death was\ngrievous to her and that she died after him.\"[FN#39]. Quoth the\nKhalif, \"Thou shalt not forestall me with talk and prate. She\ncertainly died before Aboulhusn, for he came to me with his\nclothes torn and his beard plucked out, beating his breast with\ntwo bricks, and I gave him a hundred dinars and a piece of silk\nand said to him, 'Go, carry her forth [and bury her] and I will\ngive thee a concubine other than she and handsomer, and she shall\nbe in stead of her.' But it would appear that her death was no\nlight matter to him and he died after her;[FN#40] so it is I who\nhave beaten thee and gotten thy stake.\"\n\nThe Lady Zubeideh answered him many words and the talk waxed\namain between them. At last the Khalif sat down at the heads of\nthe pair and said, \"By the tomb of the Apostle of God (may He\nbless and preserve him!) and the sepulchres of my fathers and\nforefathers, whoso will tell me which of them died before the\nother, I will willingly give him a thousand dinars!\" When\nAboulhusn heard the Khalifs words, he sprang up in haste and\nsaid, \"I died first, O Commander of the Faithful! Hand over the\nthousand dinars and quit thine oath and the conjuration by which\nthou sworest.\" Then Nuzhet el Fuad rose also and stood up before\nthe Khalif and the Lady Zubeideh, who both rejoiced in this and\nin their safety, and the princess chid her slave-girl. Then the\nKhalif and the Lady Zubeideh gave them joy at their well-being\nand knew that this [pretended] death was a device to get the\nmoney; and the princess said to Nuzhet el Fuad, \"Thou shouldst\nhave sought of me that which thou desiredst, without this\nfashion, and not have consumed my heart for thee.\" And she said,\n\"Indeed, I was ashamed, O my lady.\"\n\nAs for the Khalif, he swooned away for laughing and said, \"O\nAboulhusn, thou wilt never cease to be a wag and do rarities and\noddities!\" Quoth he, \"O Commander of the Faithful, I played off\nthis trick, for that the money was exhausted, which thou gavest\nme, and I was ashamed to ask of thee again. When I was single, I\ncould never keep money; but since thou marriedst me to this\ndamsel here, if I possessed thy wealth, I should make an end of\nit. So, when all that was in my hand was spent, I wrought this\ntrick, so I might get of thee the hundred dinars and the piece of\nsilk; and all this is an alms from our lord. But now make haste\nto give me the thousand dinars and quit thee of thine oath.\"\n\nThe Khalif and the Lady Zubeideh laughed and returned to the\npalace; and he gave Aboulhusn the thousand dinars, saying, \"Take\nthem as a thank-offering for thy preservation from death,\" whilst\nthe princess did the like with Nuzhet el Fuad. Moreover, the\nKhalif increased Aboulhusn in his stipends and allowances, and he\n[and his wife] ceased not [to live] in joy and contentment, till\nthere came to them the Destroyer of Delights and Sunderer of\nCompanies, he who layeth waste the palaces and peopleth the\ntombs.\n\n\n\n\n\n             THE KHALIF OMAR BEN ABDULAZIZ AND THE\n                         POETS.[FN#41]\n\n\n\nIt is said that, when the Khalifate devolved on Omar ben\nAbdulaziz[FN#42] (of whom God accept), the poets [of the time]\nresorted to him, as they had been used to resort to the Khalifs\nbefore him, and abode at his door days and days, but he gave them\nnot leave to enter, till there came to Omar Adi ben Artah,[FN#43]\nwho stood high in esteem with him. Jerir[FN#44] accosted him and\nbegged him to crave admission for them [to the Khalif]. \"It is\nwell,\" answered Adi and going in to Omar, said to him, \"The poets\nare at thy door and have been there days and days; yet hast thou\nnot given them leave to enter, albeit their sayings are\nabiding[FN#45] and their arrows go straight to the mark.\" Quoth\nOmar, \"What have I to do with the poets?\" And Adi answered,\nsaying, \"O Commander of the Faithful, the Prophet (whom God bless\nand preserve) was praised [by a poet] and gave [him largesse,]\nand therein[FN#46] is an exemplar to every Muslim.\" Quoth Omar,\n\"And who praised him?\" \"Abbas ben Mirdas[FN#47] praised him,\"\nreplied Adi, \"and he clad him with a suit and said, 'O\nBilal,[FN#48] cut off from me his tongue!'\" \"Dost thou remember\nwhat he said?\" asked the Khalif; and Adi said, \"Yes.\" \"Then\nrepeat it,\" rejoined Omar. So Adi recited the following verses:\n\nI saw thee, O thou best of all the human race, display A book\n     that came to teach the Truth to those in error's way.\nThou madest known to us therein the road of righteousness, When\n     we had wandered from the Truth, what while in gloom it lay.\nA dark affair thou littest up with Islam and with proof\n     Quenchedst the flaming red-coals of error and dismay.\nMohammed, then, I do confess, God's chosen prophet is, And every\n     man requited is for that which he doth say.\nThe road of right thou hast made straight, that erst was crooked\n     grown; Yea, for its path of old had fall'n to ruin and\n     decay.\nExalted mayst thou be above th' empyrean heaven of joy And may\n     God's glory greater grow and more exalted aye!\n\n\"And indeed,\" continued Adi, \"this ode on the Prophet (may God\nbless and keep him!) is well known and to comment it would be\ntedious.\" Quoth Omar, \"Who is at the door?\" \"Among them is Omar\nibn [Abi] Rebya the Cureishite,\"[FN#49] answered Adi, and the\nKhalif said, \"May God show him no favour neither quicken him! Was\nit not he who said ... ?\" And he recited the following verses:\n\nWould God upon that bitterest day, when my death calls for me,\n     What's 'twixt thine excrement and blood[FN#50] I still may\n     smell of thee!\nYea, so but Selma in the dust my bedfellow may prove, Fair fall\n     it thee! In heaven or hell I reck not if it be.\n\n\"Except,\" continued the Khalif, \"he were the enemy of God, he had\nwished for her in this world, so he might after [repent and]\nreturn to righteous dealing. By Allah, he shall not come in to\nme! Who is at the door other than he?\" Quoth Adi, \"Jemil ben\nMamer el Udhri[FN#51] is at the door;\" and Omar said, \"It is he\nwho says in one of his odes\" ... [And he recited the following:]\n\nWould we may live together and when we come to die, God grant the\n     death-sleep bring me within her tomb to lie!\nFor if \"Her grave above her is levelled\" it be said, Of life and\n     its continuance no jot indeed reck I.\n\n\"Away with him from me! Who is at the door?\" \"Kutheiyir\nAzzeh,\"[FN#52] replied Adi, and Omar said, \"It is he who says in\none of his odes ... \" [And he repeated the following verses:]\n\nSome with religion themselves concern and make it their business\n     all; Sitting,[FN#53] they weep for the pains of hell and\n     still for mercy bawl!\nIf they could hearken to Azzeh's speech, as I, I hearken to it,\n     They straight would humble themselves to her and prone\n     before her fall.\n\n\"Leave the mention of him. Who is at the door?\" Quoth Adi, \"El\nAkhwes el Ansari.\"[FN#54] \"God the Most High put him away and\nestrange him from His mercy!\" cried Omar. \"Is it not he who said,\nberhyming on a man of Medina his slave-girl, so she might outlive\nher master ... ?\" [And he repeated the following line:]\n\nGod [judge] betwixt me and her lord! Away With her he flees me\n     and I follow aye.\n\n\"He shall not come in to me. Who is at the door, other than he?\"\n\"Heman ben Ghalib el Ferezdec,\"[FN#55] answered Adi; and Omar\nsaid, \"It is he who saith, glorying in adultery ...\" [And he\nrepeated the following verses:]\n\nThe two girls let me down from fourscore fathoms' height, As\n     swoops a hawk, with wings all open in full flight;\nAnd when my feet trod earth, \"Art slain, that we should fear,\"\n     Quoth they, \"or live, that we may hope again thy sight?\"\n\n\"He shall not come in to me. Who is at the door, other than he?\"\n\"El Akhtel et Teghlibi,\"[FN#56] answered Adi; and Omar said, \"He\nis the unbeliever who says in his verse ...\" [And he repeated the\nfollowing:]\n\nRamazan in my life ne'er I fasted, nor e'er Have I eaten of\n     flesh, save in public[FN#57] it were.\nNo exhorter am I to abstain from the fair, Nor to love Mecca's\n     vale for my profit I care;\nNor, like others a little ere morning appear who bawl, \"Come to\n     safety!\"[FN#58] I stand up to prayer.\nNay, at daybreak I drink of the wind-freshened wine And prostrate\n     me[FN#59] instead in the dawn-whitened air.\n\n\"By Allah, he treadeth no carpet of mine! Who is at the door\nother than he?\" \"Jerir ibn el Khetefa,\" answered Adi; and Omar\nsaid, \"It is he who saith ... \" [And he recited as follows:]\n\nBut for the spying of the eyes [ill-omened,] we had seen Wild\n     cattle's eyes and antelopes' tresses of sable sheen.\nThe huntress of th' eyes[FN#60] by night came to me. \"Turn in\n     peace,\" [Quoth I to her;] \"This is no time for visiting, I\n     ween.\"\n\n\"If it must be and no help, admit Jerir.\" So Adi went forth and\nadmitted Jerir, who entered, saying:\n\nHe, who Mohammed sent, as prophet to mankind, Hath to a just\n     high-priest[FN#61] the Khalifate assigned.\nHis justice and his truth all creatures do embrace; The erring he\n     corrects and those of wandering mind.\nI hope for present[FN#62] good [and bounty at thy hand,] For\n     souls of men are still to present[FN#63] good inclined.\n\nQuoth Omar, \"O Jerir, keep the fear of God before thine eyes and\nsay nought but the truth.\" And Jerir recited the following\nverses:\n\nHow many, in Yemameh,[FN#64] dishevelled widows plain! How many a\n     weakling orphan unsuccoured doth remain,\nFor whom is thy departure even as a father's loss! To fly or\n     creep, like nestlings, alone, they strive in vain.\nNow that the clouds have broken their promise to our hope, We\n     trust the Khalif's bounty will stand to us for rain.[FN#65]\n\nWhen the Khalif heard this, he said, \"By Allah, O Jerir, Omar\npossesseth but a hundred dirhems.\"[FN#66] [And he cried out to\nhis servant, saying,] \"Ho, boy! give them to him.\" Moreover, he\ngave him the ornaments of his sword; and Jerir went forth to the\n[other] poets, who said to him, \"What is behind thee?\"[FN#67] And\nhe answered, \"A man who giveth to the poor and denieth the poets,\nand I am well-pleased with him.\"[FN#68]\n\n\n\n\n\n           EL HEJJAJ AND THE THREE YOUNG MEN.[FN#69]\n\n\n\nThey tell that El Hejjaj[FN#70] once commanded the Master of\nPolice [of Bassora] to go round about [the city] by night, and\nwhomsoever he found [abroad] after nightfall, that he should\nstrike off his head. So he went round one night of the nights and\ncame upon three youths staggering from side to side, and on them\nsigns of [intoxication with] wine. So the officers laid hold of\nthem and the captain of the watch said to them, \"Who are ye that\nye transgress the commandment of the [lieutenant of the]\nCommander of the Faithful and come abroad at this hour?\" Quoth\none of the youths, \"I am the son of him to whom [all]\nnecks[FN#71] abase themselves, alike the nose-pierced[FN#72] of\nthem and the [bone-]breaker;[FN#73] they come to him in their own\ndespite, abject and submissive, and he taketh of their\nwealth[FN#74] and of their blood.\"\n\nThe master of police held his hand from him, saying, \"Belike he\nis of the kinsmen of the Commander of the Faithful,\" and said to\nthe second, \"Who art thou?\" Quoth he, \"I am the son of him whose\nrank[FN#75] time abaseth not, and if it descend[FN#76] one day,\nit will assuredly return [to its former height]; thou seest the\nfolk [crowd] in troops to the light of his fire, some standing\naround it and some sitting.\" So the master of the police\nrefrained from slaying him and said to the third, \"Who art thou?\"\nQuoth he, \"I am the son of him who plungeth through the\nranks[FN#77] with his might and correcteth[FN#78] them with the\nsword,[FN#79] so that they stand straight;[FN#80] his feet are\nnot loosed from the stirrup,[FN#81] whenas the horsemen on the\nday of battle are weary.\" So the master of police held his hand\nfrom him also, saying, \"Belike, he is the son of a champion of\nthe Arabs.\"\n\nThen he kept them under guard, and when the morning morrowed, he\nreferred their case to El Hejjaj, who caused bring them before\nhim and enquiring into their affair, found that the first was the\nson of a barber-surgeon, the second of a [hot] bean-seller and\nthe third of a weaver. So he marvelled at their readiness of\nspeech[FN#82] and said to his session-mates, \"Teach your sons\ndeportment;[FN#83] for, by Allah, but for their ready wit, I had\nsmitten off their heads!\"\n\n\n\n\n\n             HAROUN ER RESHID AND THE WOMAN OF THE\n                       BARMECIDES.[FN#84]\n\n\n\nThey tell that Haroun er Reshid was sitting one day to do away\ngrievances, when there came up to him a woman and said to him, \"O\nCommander of the Faithful, may God accomplish thine affair and\ncause thee rejoice in that which He hath given thee and increase\nthee in elevation! Indeed, thou hast done justice[FN#85] and\nwrought equitably.\"[FN#86] Quoth the Khalif to those who were\npresent with him, \"Know ye what this woman meaneth by her\nsaying?\" And they answered, \"Of a surety, she meaneth not\notherwise than well, O Commander of the Faithful.\" \"Nay,\"\nrejoined Haroun; \"she purposeth only in this an imprecation\nagainst me. As for her saying, 'God accomplish thine affair!' she\nhath taken it from the saying of the poet, 'When an affair is\naccomplished, its abatement[FN#87] beginneth. Beware of\ncessation, whenas it is said, \"It is accomplished.\"' As for her\nsaying 'God cause thee rejoice in that which He hath given thee,'\nshe took it from the saying of God the Most High, 'Till, whenas\nthey rejoiced in that which they were given, we took them\nsuddenly and lo, they were confounded!'[FN#88] As for her saying,\n'God increase thee in elevation!' she took it from the saying of\nthe poet, 'No bird flieth and riseth up on high, but, like as he\nflieth, he falleth.' And as for her saying, 'Indeed, thou hast\ndone justice and wrought equitably,' it is from the saying of the\nMost High, '[If ye deviate[FN#89] or lag behind or turn aside,\nverily, God of that which ye do is aware;'[FN#90] and] 'As for\nthe transgressors,'[FN#91] they are fuel for hell[-fire].\"[FN#92]\n\nThen he turned to the woman and said to her, \"Is it not thus?\"\n\"Yes, O Commander of the Faithful,\" answered she; and he said,\n\"What prompted thee to this?\" Quoth she, \"Thou slewest my father\nand my mother and my kinsfolk and tookest their goods.\" \"Whom\nmeanest thou?\" asked the Khalif, and she replied, \"I am of the\nhouse of Bermek.\"[FN#93] Then said he to her, \"As for the dead,\nthey are of those who are past away, and it booteth not to speak\nof them; but, as for that which I took of wealth, it shall be\nrestored to thee, yea, and more than it.\" And he was bountiful to\nher to the utmost of munificence.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n            THE TEN VIZIERS; OR THE HISTORY OF KING\n                 AZADBEKHT AND HIS SON.[FN#94]\n\n\n\nThere was once, of old days, a king of the kings, whose name was\nAzadbekht; his [capital] city was called Kuneim Mudoud and his\nkingdom extended to the confines of Seistan and from the\nfrontiers of Hindustan to the sea He had ten viziers, who ordered\nhis state and his dominion, and he was possessed of judgment and\nexceeding wisdom. One day he went forth with certain of his\nguards to the chase and fell in with an eunuch on horseback,\nholding in his hand the halter of a mule, which he led along. On\nthe mule's back was a litter of gold-inwoven brocade, garded\nabout with an embroidered band set with gold and jewels, and over\nagainst the litter was a company of horsemen. When King Azadbekht\nsaw this, he separated himself from his companions and making for\nthe mule and the horsemen, questioned the latter, saying, \"To\nwhom belongeth this litter and what is therein?\". The eunuch\nanswered, (for he knew not that he was King Azadbekht,) saying,\n\"This litter belongeth to Isfehend, vizier to King Azadbekht, and\ntherein is his daughter, whom he purposeth to marry to Zad Shah\nthe King.\"\n\nAs the eunuch was speaking with the king, behold, the damsel\nraised a corner of the curtain that shut in the litter, so she\nmight look upon the speaker, and saw the king. When Azadbekht\nbeheld her and noted her fashion and her loveliness (and indeed\nnever set story-teller[FN#95] eyes on her like,) his soul\ninclined to her and she took hold upon his heart and he was\nravished by her sight. So he said to the eunuch, \"Turn the mule's\nhead and return, for I am King Azadbekht and I will marry her\nmyself, for that Isfehend her father is my vizier and he will\naccept of this affair and it will not be grievous to him.\" \"O\nking,\" answered the eunuch, \"may God prolong thy continuance,\nhave patience till I acquaint my lord her father, and thou shalt\ntake her in the way of approof, for it befitteth thee not neither\nis it seemly unto thee that thou take her on this wise, seeing\nthat it will be an affront to her father if thou take her without\nhis knowledge.\" Quoth Azadbekht, \"I have not patience [to wait]\ntill thou go to her father and return, and no dishonour will\nbetide him, if I marry her.\" \"O my lord,\" rejoined the eunuch,\n\"nought that is done in haste is long of durance nor doth the\nheart rejoice therein; and indeed it behoveth thee not to take\nher on this foul wise. Whatsoever betideth thee, destroy not\nthyself with [undue] haste, for I know that her father's breast\nwill be straitened by this affair and this that thou dost will\nnot profit thee.\" But the king said, \"Verily, Isfehend is [my\nboughten] servant and a slave of my slaves, and I reck not of her\nfather, if he be vexed or pleased.\" So saying, he drew the reins\nof the mule and carrying the damsel, whose name was Behrjaur, to\nhis house, married her.\n\nMeanwhile, the eunuch betook himself, he and the horsemen, to her\nfather and said to him, \"O my lord, the king is beholden to thee\nfor many years' service and thou hast not failed him a day of the\ndays; and now, behold, he hath taken thy daughter against thy\nwish and without thy permission.\" And he related to him what had\npassed and how the king had taken her by force. When Isfehend\nheard the eunuch's story, he was exceeding wroth and assembling\nmany troops, said to them, \"Whenas the king was occupied with his\nwomen [and concerned not himself with the affairs of his\nkingdom], we took no reck of him; but now he putteth out his hand\nto our harem; wherefore methinketh we should do well to look us\nout a place, wherein we may have sanctuary.\"\n\nThen he wrote a letter to King Azadbekht, saying to him, \"I am a\nservant of thy servants and a slave of thy slaves and my daughter\nis a handmaid at thy service, and may God the Most High prolong\nthy days and appoint thy times [to be] in delight and\ncontentment! Indeed, I still went girded of the waist in thy\nservice and in caring for the preservation of thy dominion and\nwarding off thine enemies from thee; but now I abound yet more\nthan before in zeal and watchfulness, for that I have taken this\nto charge upon myself, since my daughter is become thy wife.\" And\nhe despatched a messenger to the king with the letter and a\npresent.\n\nWhen the messenger came to King Azadbekht and he read the letter\nand the present was laid before him, he rejoiced with an\nexceeding joy and occupied himself with eating and drinking, hour\nafter hour. But the chief Vizier of his Viziers came to him and\nsaid, \"0 king, know that Isfehend the Vizier is thine enemy, for\nthat his soul liketh not that which thou hast done with him, and\nthe message that he hath sent thee [is a trick; so] rejoice thou\nnot therein, neither be thou deluded by the sweetness of his\nwords and the softness of his speech.\" The king hearkened [not]\nto his Vizier's speech, but made light of the matter and\npresently, [dismissing it from his thought], busied himself with\nthat which he was about of eating and drinking and merrymaking\nand delight\n\nMeanwhile, Isfehend the Vizier wrote a letter and despatched it\nto all the Amirs, acquainting them with that which had betided\nhim with King Azadbekht and how he had taken his daughter by\nforce and adding, \"And indeed he will do with you more than he\nhath done with me.\" When the letter reached the chiefs [of the\npeople and troops], they all assembled together to Isfehend and\nsaid to him, \"What is to do with him?\"[FN#96] So he discovered to\nthem the affair of his daughter and they all agreed, of one\naccord, that they should endeavour for the slaughter of the king\nand taking horse with their troops, set out, intending for him.\nAzadbekht knew not [of their design] till the noise [of the\ninvasion] beset his capital city, when he said to his wife\nBehrjaur, \"How shall we do?\" And she answered, saying, \"Thou\nknowest best and I am at thy commandment.\" So he let bring two\nswift horses and bestrode one himself, whilst his wife mounted\nthe other. Then they took what they might of gold and went forth,\nfleeing, in the night, to the desert of Kerman; what while\nIsfehend entered the city and made himself king.\n\nNow King Azadbekht's wife was big with child and the pains of\nlabour took her in the mountain; so they alighted at the\nmountain-foot, by a spring of water, and she gave birth to a boy\nas he were the moon. Behrjaur his mother pulled off a gown of\ngold-inwoven brocade and wrapped the child therein, and they\npassed the night [in that place], what while she gave him suck\ntill the morning. Then said the king to her, \"We are hampered by\nthis child and cannot abide here nor can we carry him with us; so\nmethinks we were better leave him here and go, for Allah is able\nto send him one who shall take him and rear him.\" So they wept\nover him exceeding sore and left him beside the spring, wrapped\nin the gown of brocade: then they laid at his head a thousand\ndinars in a bag and mounting their horses, departed, fleeing.\n\nNow, by the ordinance of God the Most High, a company of thieves\nfell in upon a caravan hard by that mountain and made prize of\nthat which was with them of merchandise. Then they betook\nthemselves to the mountain, so they might share their booty, and\nlooking at the foot thereof, espied the gown of brocade. So they\ndescended, to see what it was, and finding the child wrapped\ntherein and the gold laid at his head, marvelled and said,\n\"Extolled be the perfection of God! By what wickedness cometh\nthis child here?\" Then they divided the money between them and\nthe captain of the thieves took the boy and made him his son and\nfed him with sweet milk and dates, till he came to his house,\nwhen he appointed him a nurse, who should rear him.\n\nMeanwhile, King Azadbekht and his wife stayed not in their flight\ntill they came to [the court of] the King of Fars,[FN#97] whose\nname was Kutrou.[FN#98] When they presented themselves to him, he\nentreated them with honour and entertained them handsomely, and\nAzadbekht told him his story, first and last. So he gave him a\ngreat army and wealth galore and he abode with him some days,\ntill he was rested, when he made ready with his host and setting\nout for his own dominions, waged war upon Isfehend and falling in\nupon the capital, defeated the rebel vizier and slew him. Then he\nentered the city and sat down on the throne of his kingship; and\nwhenas he was rested and the kingdom was grown peaceful for him,\nhe despatched messengers to the mountain aforesaid in quest of\nthe child; but they returned and informed the king that they had\nnot found him.\n\nAs time went on, the boy, the son of the king, grew up and fell\nto stopping the way[FN#99] with the thieves, and they used to\ncarry him with them, whenas they went a-thieving. They sallied\nforth one day upon a caravan in the land of Seistan, and there\nwere in that caravan strong and valiant men and with them\nmerchandise galore. Now they had heard that in that land were\nthieves; so they gathered themselves together and made ready\ntheir arms and sent out spies, who returned and gave them news of\nthe thieves. Accordingly, they prepared for battle, and when the\nrobbers drew near the caravan, they fell in upon them and they\nfought a sore battle. At last the folk of the caravan\novermastered the thieves, by dint of numbers, and slew some of\nthem, whilst the others fled. Moreover they took the boy, the son\nof King Azadbekht, and seeing him as he were the moon, possessed\nof beauty and grace, brightfaced and comely of fashion,\nquestioned him, saying, \"Who is thy father, and how camest thou\nwith these thieves?\" And he answered, saying, \"I am the son of\nthe captain of the thieves.\" So they took him and carried him to\nthe capital of his father King Azadbekht\n\nWhen they reached the city, the king heard of their coming and\ncommanded that they should attend him with what befitted [of\ntheir merchandise]. So they presented themselves before him, [and\nthe boy with them,] whom when the king saw, he said to them, \"To\nwhom belongeth this boy?\" And they answered, \"O king, we were\ngoing in such a road, when there came out upon us a sort of\nrobbers; so we made war upon them and overcame them and took this\nboy prisoner. Then we questioned him, saying, 'Who is thy\nfather?' and he answered, 'I am the captain's son of the\nthieves.'\" Quoth the king, \"I would fain have this boy.\" And the\ncaptain of the caravan said, \"God maketh thee gift of him, O king\nof the age, and we all are thy slaves.\" Then the king dismissed\n[the people of] the caravan and let carry the youth into his\npalace and he became as one of the servants, what while his\nfather the king knew not that he was his son. As time went on,\nthe king observed in him good breeding and understanding and\nknowledge[FN#100] galore and he pleased him; so he committed his\ntreasuries to his charge and straitened the viziers' hand\ntherefrom, commanding that nought should be taken forth therefrom\nexcept by leave of the youth. On this wise he abode a number of\nyears and the king saw in him nought but fidelity and\nstudiousness in well-doing.\n\nNow the treasuries aforetime had been in the viziers' hand, so\nthey might do with them what they would, and when they came under\nthe youth's hand, that of the viziers was straitened from them,\nand the youth became dearer to the king than a son and he could\nnot brook to be separated from him. When the viziers saw this,\nthey were jealous of him and envied him and cast about for a\ndevice against him whereby they might oust him from the king's\nfavour, but found no opportunity. At last, when came the destined\nhour,[FN#101] it chanced that the youth one day drank wine and\nbecame drunken and wandered from his wits; so he fell to going\nround about within the palace of the king and fate led him to the\nlodging of the women, in which there was a little\nsleeping-chamber, where the king lay with his wife. Thither came\nthe youth and entering the chamber, found there a couch spread,\nto wit, a sleeping place, and a candle burning. So he cast\nhimself on the couch, marvelling at the paintings that were in\nthe chamber, and slept and slumbered heavily till eventide, when\nthere came a slave-girl, bringing with her all the dessert,\neatables and drinkables, that she was wont to make ready for the\nking and his wife, and seeing the youth lying on his back, (and\nnone knowing of his case and he in his drunkenness unknowing\nwhere he was,) thought that he was the king asleep on his bed; so\nshe set the censing-vessel and laid the essences by the couch,\nthen shut the door and went away.\n\nPresently, the king arose from the wine-chamber and taking his\nwife by the hand, repaired with her to the chamber in which he\nslept. He opened the door and entering, saw the youth lying on\nthe bed, whereupon he turned to his wife and said to her, \"What\ndoth this youth here? This fellow cometh not hither but on thine\naccount.\" Quoth she, \"I have no knowledge of him.\" With this, the\nyouth awoke and seeing the king, sprang up and prostrated himself\nbefore him, and Azadbekht said to him, \"O vile of origin,[FN#102]\nO lack-loyalty, what hath prompted thee to outrage my dwelling?\"\nAnd he bade imprison him in one place and the woman in another.\n\n\n\n\n\n                         The First Day.\n\n\n\n            OF THE USELESSNESS OF ENDEAVOUR AGAINST\n                    PERSISTENT ILL FORTUNE.\n\n\n\nWhen the morning morrowed and the king sat on the throne of his\nkingship, he summoned the chief of his viziers and said to him,\n\"What deemest thou of this that yonder robber-youth hath done?\nBehold, he hath entered my house and lain down on my bed and I\nfear lest there be an intrigue between him and the woman. How\ndeemest thou of the affair?\" \"God prolong the king's\ncontinuance!\" replied the vizier. \"What sawest thou in this youth\n[to make thee trust in him]? Is he not vile of origin, the son of\nthieves? Needs must a thief revert to his vile origin, and whoso\nreareth the young of the serpent shall get of them nought but\nbiting. As for the woman, she is not at fault; for, since [the]\ntime [of her marriage with thee] till now, there hath appeared\nfrom her nought but good breeding and modesty; and now, if the\nking give me leave, I will go to her and question her, so I may\ndiscover to thee the affair.\"\n\nThe king gave him leave for this and the vizier betook himself to\nthe queen and said to her, \"I am come to thee, on account of a\ngrave reproach, and I would have thee be truthful with me in\nspeech and tell me how came the youth into the sleeping-chamber.\"\nQuoth she, \"I have no knowledge whatsoever [of it]\" and swore to\nhim a solemn oath thereof, whereby he knew that she had no\nknowledge of the matter and that she was not at fault and said to\nher, \"I will teach thee a device, where- with thou mayst acquit\nthyself and thy face be whitened before the king.\" \"What is it?\"\nasked she; and he answered, saying, \"When the king calleth for\nthee and questioneth thee of this, say thou to him, 'Yonder youth\nsaw me in the privy-chamber and sent me a message, saying, \"I\nwill give thee a hundred jewels, to whose price money may not\navail, so thou wilt suffer me to foregather with thee.\" I laughed\nat him who bespoke me with these words and rebuffed him; but he\nsent again to me, saying, \"An thou fall not in with my wishes, I\nwill come one of the nights, drunken, and enter and lie down in\nthe sleeping-chamber, and the king will see me and kill me; so\nwilt thou be put to shame and thy face will be blackened with him\nand thine honour abased.\"' Be this thy saying to the king, and I\nwill presently go to him and repeat this to him.\" Quoth the\nqueen, \"And I also will say thus.\"\n\nSo the vizier returned to the king and said to him, \"Verily, this\nyouth hath merited grievous punishment, after abundance of bounty\n[bestowed on him], and it may not be that a bitter kernel should\never become sweet; but, as for the woman, I am certified that\nthere is no fault in her.\" Then he repeated to the king the story\nwhich he had taught the queen, which when Azadbekht heard, he\nrent his clothes and bade fetch the youth. So they brought him\nand stationed him before the king, who let bring the headsman,\nand the folk all fixed their eyes upon the youth, so they might\nsee what the king should do with him.\n\nThen said Azadbekht to him (and indeed his words were [prompted]\nby anger and those of the youth by presence of mind and good\nbreeding), \"I bought thee with my money and looked for fidelity\nfrom thee, wherefore I chose thee over all my grandees and\nservants and made thee keeper of my treasuries. Why, then, hast\nthou outraged my honour and entered my house and played the\ntraitor with me and tookest no thought unto that which I have\ndone thee of benefits?\" \"O king,\" answered the youth, \"I did this\nnot of my choice and freewill and I had no [evil] intent in being\nthere; but, of the littleness of my luck, I was driven thither,\nfor that fate was contrary and fair fortune lacking. Indeed, I\nhad striven with all endeavour that nought of foul should proceed\nfrom me and kept watch over myself, lest default appear in me;\nbut none may avail to make head against ill fortune, nor doth\nendeavour profit in case of lack of luck, as appeareth by the\nexample of the merchant who was stricken with ill luck and his\nendeavour profited him not and he succumbed to the badness of his\nfortune.\" \"What is the story of the merchant,\" asked the king,\n\"and how was his luck changed upon him by the sorriness of his\nfortune?\" \"May God prolong the king's continuance!\" answered the\nyouth.\n\n\n\n\n\nStory of the Unlucky Merchant.\n\n\n\n\"There was once a man, a merchant, who was fortunate in trade,\nand at one time his [every] dirhem profited [him] fifty.\nPresently, his luck turned against him and he knew it not; so he\nsaid in himself, 'I have wealth galore, yet do I weary myself and\ngo round about from country to country; I were better abide in my\nown country and rest myself in my house from this travail and\naffliction and sell and buy at home.' Then he made two parts of\nhis money, with one whereof he bought wheat in summer, saying,\n'When the winter cometh, I will sell it at a great profit.' But,\nwhen the winter came, wheat became at half the price for which he\nhad bought it, whereat he was sore concerned and left it till the\nnext year. However, next year, the price fell yet lower and one\nof his friends said to him, 'Thou hast no luck in this wheat; so\ndo thou sell it at whatsoever price.' Quoth the merchant, 'This\nlong while have I profited and it is allowable that I lose this\ntime. God is all- knowing! If it abide [with me] half a score\nyears, I will not sell it save at a profit.'\n\nThen, in his anger, he walled up the door of the granary with\nclay, and by the ordinance of God the Most High, there came a\ngreat rain and descended from the roofs of the house wherein was\nthe wheat [so that the latter rotted]; and needs must the\nmerchant give the porters five hundred dirhems from his purse, so\nthey should carry it forth and cast it without the city, for that\nthe smell of it was noisome. So his friend said to him, 'How\noften did I tell thee thou hadst no luck in wheat? But thou\nwouldst not give ear to my speech, and now it behoveth thee to go\nto the astrologer and question him of thy star.' Accordingly the\nmerchant betook himself to the astrologer and questioned him of\nhis star, and the astrologer said to him, 'Thy star is\nunpropitious. Put not thy hand to any business, for thou wilt not\nprosper therein.' However, he paid no heed to the astrologer's\nwords and said in himself, 'If I do my occasion,[FN#103] I am not\nafraid of aught.' Then he took the other part of his money, after\nhe had spent therefrom three years, and built [therewith] a ship,\nwhich he loaded with all that seemed good to him and all that was\nwith him and embarked on the sea, so he might travel.\n\nThe ship tarried with him some days, till he should be certified\nwhat he would do,[FN#104] and he said, 'I will enquire of the\nmerchants what this merchandise profiteth and in what country it\nlacketh and how much is the gain thereon.' [So he questioned them\nand] they directed him to a far country, where his dirhem should\nprofit a hundredfold. Accordingly, he set sail and steered for\nthe land in question; but, as he went, there blew on him a\ntempestuous wind and the ship foundered. The merchant saved\nhimself on a plank and the wind cast him up, naked as he was, on\nthe sea-shore, hard by a town there. So he praised God and gave\nHim thanks for his preservation; then, seeing a great village\nhard by, he betook himself thither and saw, seated therein, a\nvery old man, whom he acquainted with his case and that which had\nbetided him. The old man grieved sore for him, when he heard his\nstory, and set food before him. So he ate and the old man said to\nhim, 'Abide here with me, so I may make thee my steward and\nfactor over a farm I have here, and thou shall have of me five\ndirhems [FN#105] a day.' 'God make fair thy reward,' answered the\nmerchant, 'and requite thee with benefits!'\n\nSo he abode in this employ, till he had sowed and reaped and\nthreshed and winnowed, and all was sheer in his hand and the\nowner appointed neither inspector nor overseer, but relied\naltogether upon him. Then he bethought himself and said, '_I_*\nmisdoubt me the owner of this grain will not give me my due; so I\nwere better take of it, after the measure of my hire; and if he\ngive me my due, I will restore him that which I have taken.' So\nhe took of the grain, after the measure of that which fell to\nhim, and hid it in a privy place. Then he carried the rest to the\nold man and meted it out to him, and he said to him, 'Come, take\n[of the grain, after the measure of] thy hire, for which I agreed\nwith thee, and sell it and buy with the price clothes and what\nnot else; and though thou abide with me half a score years, yet\nshall thou still have this wage and I will acquit it to thee\nthus.' Quoth the merchant in himself, 'Indeed, I have done a foul\nthing in that I look it without his leave.'\n\nThen he went to fetch that which he had hidden of the grain, but\nfound it not and returned, perplexed and sorrowful, to the old\nman, who said to him, 'What aileth thee to be sorrowful?' And he\nanswered, 'Methought thou wouldst not pay me my due; so I took of\nthe grain, after the measure of my hire; and now thou hast paid\nme my due and I went to bring back to thee that which I had\nhidden from thee, but found it gone, for those who had happened\nupon it had stolen it.' The old man was wroth, when he heard\nthis, and said to the merchant, 'There is no device [can cope]\nwith ill luck! I had given thee this, but, of the sorriness of\nthy luck and thy fortune, thou hast done this deed, O oppressor\nof thine own self! Thou deemedst I would not acquit thee thy\nwage; but, by Allah, nevermore will I give thee aught.' And he\ndrove him away from him.\n\nSo the merchant went forth, afflicted, sorrowful, weeping, [and\nwandered on along the sea-shore], till he came to a sort of\ndivers diving in the sea for pearls. They saw him weeping and\nmourning and said to him, 'What is thy case and what maketh thee\nweep?' So he acquainted them with his history, from first to\nlast, whereby they knew him and said to him, 'Art thou [such an\none] son of such an one?' 'Yes,' answered he; whereupon they\ncondoled with him and wept sore for him and said to him, 'Abide\nhere till we dive for thy luck this next time and whatsoever\nbetideth us shall be between us and thee.' Accordingly, they\ndived and brought up ten oysters, in each two great pearls;\nwhereat they marvelled and said to him, 'By Allah, thy luck hath\nreturned and thy good star is in the ascendant!' Then they gave\nhim ten pearls and said to him, 'Sell two of them and make them\nthy capital [whereon to trade]; and hide the rest against the\ntime of thy straitness.' So he took them, joyful and contented,\nand addressed himself to sew eight of them in his gown, keeping\nthe two others in his mouth; but a thief saw him and went and\nadvertised his mates of him; whereupon they gathered together\nupon him and took his gown and departed from him. When they were\ngone away, he arose, saying, 'These two pearls [in my mouth] will\nsuffice me,' and made for the [nearest] city, where he brought\nout the pearls [and repairing to the jewel- market, gave them to\nthe broker], that he might sell them.\n\nNow, as destiny would have it, a certain jeweller of the town had\nbeen robbed of ten pearls, like unto those which were with the\nmerchant; so, when he saw the two pearls in the broker's hand, he\nsaid to him, 'To whom do these pearls belong?' and the broker\nanswered, 'To yonder man.' [The jeweller looked at the merchant\nand] seeing him in sorry case and clad in tattered clothes,\nmisdoubted of him and said to him (purposing to surprise him into\nconfession), 'Where are the other eight pearls?' The merchant\nthought he asked him of those which were in the gown and\nanswered, 'The thieves stole them from me.' When the jeweller\nheard his reply, he doubted not but that it was he who had taken\nhis good; so he laid hold of him and haling him before the chief\nof the police, said to him, 'This is the man who stole my pearls:\nI have found two of them upon him and he confesseth to the other\neight.'\n\nNow the magistrate knew of the theft of the pearls; so he bade\nclap the merchant in prison. Accordingly they imprisoned him and\nflogged him, and he abode in the prison a whole year, till, by\nthe ordinance of God the Most High, the Master of Police arrested\none of the divers aforesaid and imprisoned him in the prison\nwhere the merchant lay. He saw the latter and knowing him,\nquestioned him of his case; whereupon he told them his story and\nthat which had befallen him, and the diver marvelled at the\nsorriness of his luck. So, when he came forth of the prison, he\nacquainted the Sultan with the merchant's case and told him that\nit was he who had given him the pearls. The Sultan bade bring him\nforth of the prison and questioned him of his story, whereupon he\ntold him all that had befallen him and the Sultan pitied him and\nassigned him a lodging in his own palace, together with an\nallowance for his living.\n\nNow the lodging in question adjoined the king's house, and whilst\nthe merchant was rejoicing in this and saying, 'Verily, my luck\nhath returned and I shall live in this king's shadow the rest of\nmy life,' he espied an opening walled up with stones and clay. So\nhe pulled out the stones and clearing away the earth from the\nopening, found that it was a window giving upon the lodging of\nthe king's women. When he saw this, he was affrighted and rising\nin haste, fetched clay and stopped it up again. But one of the\neunuchs saw him and misdoubting of him, repaired to the Sultan\nand told him of this. So he came and seeing the stones pulled\nout, was wroth with the merchant and said to him, 'Is this my\nrecompense from thee, that thou seekest to violate my harem?' And\nhe bade pluck out his eyes. So they did as he commanded and the\nmerchant took his eyes in his hand and said, 'How long [wilt thou\nafflict me], O star of ill-omen? First my wealth and now my\nlife!' And he bewailed himself, saying, 'Endeavour profiteth me\nnought against evil fortune. The Compassionate aided me not and\nendeavour was useless.'\n\nOn like wise, O king,\" continued the youth, \"whilst fortune was\nfavourable to me, all that I did came to good; but now that it is\ngrown contrary to me, everything turneth against me.\"\n\nWhen the youth had made an end of his story, the king's anger\nsubsided a little and he said, \"Restore him to the prison, for\nthe day draweth to an end, and tomorrow we will took into his\naffair.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n              OF LOOKING TO THE ISSUES OF AFFAIRS.\n\n\n\nWhen it was the second day, the second of the king's viziers,\nwhose name was Beheroun, came in to him and said, \"God advance\nthe king! This that yonder youth hath done is a grave matter and\na foul deed and a heinous against the household of the king.\" So\nAzadbekht bade fetch the youth, because of the saying of the\nvizier; and when he came into his presence, he said to him, \"Out\non thee, O youth! Needs must I slay thee by the worst of deaths,\nfor indeed thou hast committed a grave crime, and I will make\nthee a warning to the folk.\" \"O king,\" answered the youth,\n\"hasten not, for the looking to the issues of affairs is a pillar\nof the realm and [a cause of] continuance and sure stablishment\nfor the kingship. Whoso looketh not to the issues of affairs,\nthere befalleth him that which befell the merchant, and whoso\nlooketh to the issues of affairs, there betideth him of joyance\nthat which betided the merchant's son.\" \"And what is the story of\nthe merchant and his son?\" asked the king. \"O king,\" answered the\nyouth,\n\n\n\n\n\nStory of the Merchant and His Sons.\n\n\n\n\"There was once a man, a merchant, who had a wife and abundant\nwealth. He set out one day on a journey with merchandise, leaving\nhis wife big with child, and said to her, 'If it be the will of\nGod the Most High, I will return before the birth of the child.'\nThen he took leave of her and setting out, journeyed from country\nto country till he came to the court of one of the kings and\nforegathered with him. Now this king was in need of one who\nshould order his affairs and those of his kingdom and seeing the\nmerchant well-bred and intelligent, he charged him abide with him\nand entreated him with honour and munificence. After awhile, he\nsought of the king leave to go to his own house, but the latter\nwould not consent to this; whereupon he said to him, 'O king,\nsuffer me go and see my children and come again.' So he gave him\nleave for this and took surety of him for his return. Moreover,\nhe gave him a purse, wherein were a thousand gold dinars, and the\nmerchant embarked in a ship and set sail, intending for his own\ncountry.\n\nMeanwhile, news came to his wife that her husband had taken\nservice with King Such-an-one; so she arose and taking her two\nsons, (for she had given birth to twin boys in his absence,) set\nout for those parts. As fate would have it, they happened upon an\nisland and her husband came thither that very night in the ship.\n[When the woman heard of the coming of the ship], she said to her\nchildren, 'This ship cometh from the country where your father\nis; so go ye to the sea-shore, that ye may enquire of him.' So\nthey repaired to the sea-shore and [going up into the ship], fell\nto playing about it and occupied themselves with their play till\nthe evening.\n\nNow the merchant their father lay asleep in the ship, and the\ncrying of the boys troubled him; so he rose to call out to them\n[and silence them] and let the purse [with the thousand dinars\ntherein] fall among the bales of merchandise. He sought for it\nand finding it not, buffeted his head and seized upon the boys,\nsaying, 'None took the purse but you. Ye were playing about the\nbales, so ye might steal somewhat, and there was none here but\nyou.' Then he took a staff and laying hold of the children, fell\nto beating them and flogging them, whilst they wept, and the\nsailors came round about them and said, 'The boys of this island\nare all thieves and robbers.' Then, of the greatness of the\nmerchant's wrath, he swore that, if they brought not out the\npurse, he would drown them in the sea; so when [by reason of\ntheir denial] his oath became binding upon him, he took the two\nboys and lashing them [each] to a bundle of reeds, cast them into\nthe sea.\n\nPresently, the mother of the two boys, finding that they tarried\nfrom her, went searching for them, till she came to the ship and\nfell to saying, 'Who hath seen two boys of mine? Their fashion is\nthus and thus and their age thus and thus.' When they heard her\nwords, they said, 'This is the description of the two boys who\nwere drowned in the sea but now.' Their mother heard and fell to\ncalling on them and saying, 'Alas, my anguish for your loss, O my\nsons! Where was the eye of your father this day, that it might\nhave seen you?' Then one of the crew questioned her, saying,\n'Whose wife art thou?' And she answered, 'I am the wife of such\nan one the merchant. I was on my way to him, and there hath\nbefallen me this calamity.' When the merchant heard her speech,\nhe knew her and rising to his feet, rent his clothes and buffeted\nhis head and said to his wife, 'By Allah, I have destroyed my\nchildren with mine own hand! This is the end of whoso looketh not\nto the issues of affairs.' Then he fell a-wailing and weeping\nover them, he and his wife, and he said, 'By Allah, I shall have\nno ease of my life, till I light upon news of them!' And he\nbetook himself to going round about the sea, in quest of them,\nbut found them not.\n\nMeanwhile, the wind carried the two children [out to sea and\nthence driving them] towards the land, cast them up on the\nsea-shore. As for one of them, a company of the guards of the\nking of those parts found him and carried him to their master,\nwho marvelled at him with an exceeding wonderment and adopted him\nto his son, giving out to the folk that he was his [very] son,\nwhom he had hidden,[FN#106] of his love for him. So the folk\nrejoiced in him with an exceeding joy, for the king's sake, and\nthe latter appointed him his heir-apparent and the inheritor of\nhis kingdom. On this wise, a number of years passed, till the\nking died and they crowned the youth king in his room. So he sat\ndown on the throne of his kingship and his estate flourished and\nhis affairs prospered.\n\nMeanwhile, his father and mother had gone round about all the\nislands of the sea in quest of him and his brother, hoping that\nthe sea might have cast them up, but found no trace of them; so\nthey despaired of finding them and took up their abode in one of\nthe islands. One day, the merchant, being in the market, saw a\nbroker, and in his hand a boy he was calling for sale, and said\nin himself, 'I will buy yonder boy, so I may console myself with\nhim for my sons.' So he bought him and carried him to his house;\nand when his wife saw him, she cried out and said, 'By Allah,\nthis is my son!' So his father and mother rejoiced in him with an\nexceeding joy and questioned him of his brother; but he answered,\n'The sea parted us and I knew not what became of him.' Therewith\nhis father and mother consoled themselves with him and on this\nwise a number of years passed.\n\nNow the merchant and his wife had taken up their abode in a city\nin the land whereof their [other] son was king, and when the boy\n[whom they had found] grew up, his father assigned unto him\nmerchandise, so he might travel therewith. So he set out and\nentered the city wherein his brother was king. News reached the\nlatter that there was a merchant come thither with merchandise\nbefitting kings. So he sent for him and the young merchant obeyed\nthe summons and going in to him, sat down before him. Neither of\nthem knew the other; but blood stirred between them and the king\nsaid to the young merchant, 'I desire of thee that thou abide\nwith me and I will exalt thy station and give thee all that thou\ndesirest and cravest.' So he abode with him awhile, quitting him\nnot; and when he saw that he would not suffer him to depart from\nhim, he sent to his father and mother and bade them remove\nthither to him. So they addressed them to remove to that island,\nand their son increased still in honour with the king, albeit he\nknew not that he was his brother.\n\nIt chanced one night that the king sallied forth without the city\nand drank and the wine got the mastery of him and he became\ndrunken. So, of the youth's fearfulness for him, he said, 'I will\nkeep watch myself over the king this night, seeing that he\ndeserveth this from me, for that which he hath wrought with me of\nkindnesses.' So he arose forthright and drawing his sword,\nstationed himself at the door of the king's pavilion. Now one of\nthe royal servants saw him standing there, with the drawn sword\nin his hand, and he was of those who envied him his favour with\nthe king; so he said to him, 'Why dost thou on this wise at this\nseason and in the like of this place?' Quoth the youth, 'I am\nkeeping watch over the king myself, in requital of his bounties\nto me.'\n\nThe servant said no more to him, but, when it was morning, he\nacquainted a number of the king's servants with this and they\nsaid, 'This is an opportunity for us. Come let us assemble\ntogether and acquaint the king with this, so the young merchant\nmay lose favour with him and he rid us of him and we be at rest\nfrom him.' So they assembled together and going in to the king,\nsaid to him, 'We have a warning we would give thee.' Quoth he,\n'And what is your warning?' And they said, 'Yonder youth, the\nmerchant, whom thou hast taken into favour and whose rank thou\nhast exalted above the chiefs of the people of thy household, we\nsaw yesterday draw his sword and offer to fall upon thee, so he\nmight slay thee.' When the king heard this, his colour changed\nand he said to them, 'Have ye proof of this?' Quoth they, 'What\nproof wouldst thou have? If thou desire this, feign thyself\ndrunken again this night and lie down, as if asleep, and watch\nhim, and thou wilt see with thine eyes all that we have named to\nthee.'\n\nThen they went to the youth and said to him, 'Know that the king\nthanketh thee for thy dealing yesternight and exceedeth in\n[praise of] thy good deed;' and they prompted him to do the like\nagain. So, when the next night came, the king abode on wake;\nwatching the youth; and as for the latter, he went to the door of\nthe pavilion and drawing his sword, stood in the doorway. When\nthe king saw him do thus, he was sore disquieted and bade seize\nhim and said to him, 'Is this my requital from thee? I showed\nthee favour more than any else and thou wouldst do with me this\nvile deed.' Then arose two of the king's servants and said to\nhim, 'O our lord, if thou command it, we will strike off his\nhead.' But the king said, 'Haste in slaying is a vile thing, for\nit[FN#107] is a grave matter; the quick we can slay, but the\nslain we cannot quicken, and needs must we look to the issue of\naffairs. The slaying of this [youth] will not escape us.'[FN#108]\nTherewith he bade imprison him, whilst he himself returned [to\nthe city] and despatching his occasions, went forth to the chase.\n\nThen he returned to the city and forgot the youth; so the\nservants went in to him and said to him, 'O king, if thou keep\nsilence concerning yonder youth, who would have slain thee, all\nthy servants will presume upon thee, and indeed the folk talk of\nthis matter.' With this the king waxed wroth and saying, 'Fetch\nhim hither,' commanded the headsman to strike off his head. So\nthey [brought the youth and] bound his eyes; and the headsman\nstood at his head and said to the king, 'By thy leave, O my lord,\nI will strike off his head.' But the king said, 'Stay, till I\nlook into his affair. Needs must I put him to death and the\nslaying of him will not escape [me].' So he restored him to the\nprison and there he abode till it should be the king's will to\nput him to death.\n\nPresently, his father and his mother heard of the matter;\nwhereupon the former arose and going up to the place, wrote a\nletter and [presented it to the king, who] read it, and behold,\ntherein was written, saying, 'Have pity on me, so may God have\npity on thee, and hasten not in the slaughter [of my son]; for\nindeed I acted hastily in a certain affair and drowned his\nbrother in the sea, and to this day I drink the cup of his\nanguish. If thou must needs kill him, kill me in his stead.'\nTherewith the old merchant prostrated himself before the king and\nwept; and the latter said to him, 'Tell me thy story.' 'O my\nlord,' answered the merchant, 'this youth had a brother and I [in\nmy haste] cast them both into the sea.' And he related to him his\nstory from first to last, whereupon the king cried out with an\nexceeding great cry and casting himself down from the throne,\nembraced his father and brother and said to the former, 'By\nAllah, thou art my very father and this is my brother and thy\nwife is our mother.' And they abode weeping, all three.\n\nThen the king acquainted the people [of his court] with the\nmatter and said to them,' O folk, how deem ye of my looking to\nthe issues of affairs?' And they all marvelled at his wisdom and\nforesight. Then he turned to his father and said to him, 'Hadst\nthou looked to the issue of thine affair and dealt deliberately\nin that which thou didst, there had not betided thee this\nrepentance and grief all this time.' Then he let bring his mother\nand they rejoiced in each other and lived all their days in joy\nand gladness. What then,\" continued the young treasurer, \"is more\ngrievous than the lack of looking to the issues of affairs?\nWherefore hasten thou not in the slaying of me, lest repentance\nbetide thee and sore concern.\"\n\nWhen the king heard this, he said, \"Restore him to the prison\ntill the morrow, so we may look into his affair; for that\ndeliberation in affairs is advisable and the slaughter of this\n[youth] shall not escape [us].\"\n\n                         The Third Day.\n\n\n\n                 OF THE ADVANTAGES OF PATIENCE.\n\n\n\nWhen it was the third day, the third vizier came in to the king\nand said to him, \"O king, delay not the affair of this youth, for\nthat his deed hath caused us fall into the mouths of the folk,\nand it behoveth that thou slay him presently, so the talk may be\nestopped from us and it be not said, 'The king saw on his bed a\nman with his wife and spared him.'\"* The king was chagrined by\nthis speech and bade bring the youth. So they brought him in\nshackles, and indeed the king's anger was roused against him by\nthe speech of the vizier and he was troubled; so he said to him,\n\"O base of origin, thou hast dishonoured us and marred our\nrepute, and needs must I do away thy life from the world.\" Quoth\nthe youth, \"O king, make use of patience in all thine affairs, so\nwilt thou attain thy desire, for that God the Most High hath\nappointed the issue of patience [to be] in abounding good, and\nindeed by patience Abou Sabir ascended from the pit and sat down\nupon the throne.\" \"Who was Abou Sabir,\" asked the king, \"and what\nis his story?\" And the youth answered, saying, \"O king,\n\n\n\n\n\n                      STORY OF ABOU SABIR.\n\n\n\nThere was once a man, a headman [of a village], by name Abou\nSabir, and he had much cattle and a fair wife, who had borne him\ntwo sons. They abode in a certain village and there used to come\nthither a lion and devour Abou Sabir's cattle, so that the most\npart thereof was wasted and his wife said to him one day, 'This\nlion hath wasted the most part of our cattle. Arise, mount thy\nhorse and take thy men and do thine endeavour to kill him, so we\nmay be at rest from him.' But Abou Sabir said, 'Have patience, O\nwoman, for the issue of patience is praised. This lion it is that\ntransgresseth against us, and the transgressor, needs must Allah\ndestroy him. Indeed, it is our patience that shall slay him, and\nhe that doth evil, needs must it revert upon him.' A little\nafter, the king went forth one day to hunt and falling in with\nthe lion, he and his troops, gave chase to him and ceased not [to\nfollow] after him till they slew him. This came to Abou Sabir's\nknowledge and he said to his wife, 'Said I not to thee, O woman,\nthat whoso doth evil, it shall revert upon him? Belike, if I had\nsought to slay the lion myself, I had not availed against him,\nand this is the issue of patience.'\n\nIt befell, after this, that a man was slain in Abou Sabir's\nvillage; wherefore the Sultan caused plunder the village, and\nthey plundered the headman's goods with the rest So his wife said\nto him, 'All the Sultan's officers know thee; so do thou prefer\nthy plaint to the king, that he may cause thy beasts to be\nrestored to thee.' But he said to her, 'O woman, said I not to\nthee that he who doth evil shall suffer it? Indeed, the king hath\ndone evil, and he shall suffer [the consequences of] his deed,\nfor whoso taketh the goods of the folk, needs must his goods be\ntaken.' A man of his neighbours heard his speech, and he was an\nenvier of his; so he went to the Sultan and acquainted him\ntherewith, whereupon he sent and plundered all [the rest of] his\ngoods and drove him forth from the village, and his wife [and\nchildren] with him. So they went wandering in the desert and his\nwife said to him, 'All that hath befallen us cometh of thy\nslothfulness in affairs and thy default.' But he said to her,\n'Have patience, for the issue of patience is good.'\n\nThen they went on a little, and thieves met them and despoiling\nthem of that which remained with them, stripped them of their\nraiment and took the children from them; whereupon the woman wept\nand said to her husband, 'O man, put away from thee this folly\nand arise, let us follow the thieves, so haply they may have\ncompassion on us and restore the children to us.' 'O woman,'\nanswered he, 'have patience, for he who doth evil shall be\nrequited with evil and his wickedness shall revert upon him. Were\nI to follow them, most like one of them would take his sword and\nsmite off my head and slay me; but have patience, for the issue\nof patience is praised.' Then they fared on till they drew near a\nvillage in the land of Kirman, and by it a river of water. So he\nsaid to his wife, 'Abide thou here, whilst I enter the village\nand look us out a place wherein we may take up our lodging.' And\nhe left her by the water and entered the village.\n\nPresently, up came a horseman in quest of water, so he might\nwater his horse. He saw the woman and she was pleasing in his\nsight; so he said to her, 'Arise, mount with me and I will take\nthee to wife and entreat thee kindly.' Quoth she, 'Spare me, so\nmay God spare thee! Indeed, I have a husband.' But he drew his\nsword and said to her, 'An thou obey me not, I will smite thee\nand kill thee.' When she saw his malice, she wrote on the ground\nin the sand with her finger, saying, 'O Abou Sabir, thou hast not\nceased to be patient, till thy wealth is gone from thee and thy\nchildren and [now] thy wife, who was more precious in thy sight\nthan everything and than all thy wealth, and indeed thou abidest\nin thy sorrow all thy life long, so thou mayst see what thy\npatience will profit thee.' Then the horseman took her, and\nsetting her behind him, went his way.\n\nAs for Abou Sabir, when he returned, he saw not his wife and read\nwhat was written on the ground, wherefore he wept and sat\n[awhile] sorrowing. Then said he to himself, 'O Abou Sabir, it\nbehoveth thee to be patient, for belike there shall betide [thee]\nan affair yet sorer than this and more grievous;' and he went\nforth wandering at a venture, like to the love-distraught, the\nmadman, till he came to a sort of labourers working upon the\npalace of the king, by way of forced labour. When [the overseers]\nsaw him, they laid hold of him and said to him, 'Work thou with\nthese folk at the palace of the king; else will we imprison thee\nfor life.' So he fell to working with them as a labourer and\nevery day they gave him a cake of bread. He wrought with them a\nmonth's space, till it chanced that one of the labourers mounted\na ladder and falling, broke his leg; whereupon he cried out and\nwept. Quoth Abou Sabir to him, 'Have patience and weep not; for\nthou shall find ease in thy patience.' But the man said to him,\n'How long shall I have patience?' And he answered, saying,\n'Patience bringeth a man forth of the bottom of the pit and\nseateth him on the throne of the kingdom.'\n\nNow the king was seated at the lattice, hearkening to their talk,\nand Abou Sabir's words angered him; so he bade bring him before\nhim and they brought him forthright. Now there was in the king's\npalace an underground dungeon and therein a vast deep pit, into\nwhich the king caused cast Abou Sabir, saying to him, 'O lackwit,\nnow shall we see how thou wilt come forth of the pit to the\nthrone of the kingdom.' Then he used to come and stand at the\nmouth of the pit and say, 'O lackwit, O Abou Sabir, I see thee\nnot come forth of the pit and sit down on the king's throne!' And\nhe assigned him each day two cakes of bread, whilst Abou Sabir\nheld his peace and spoke not, but bore with patience that which\nbetided him.\n\nNow the king had a brother, whom he had imprisoned in that pit of\nold time, and he had died [there]; but the folk of the realm\nthought that he was alive, and when his [supposed] imprisonment\ngrew long, the king's officers used to talk of this and of the\ntyranny of the king, and the report spread abroad that the king\nwas a tyrant, wherefore they fell upon him one day and slew him.\nThen they sought the well and brought out Abou Sabir therefrom,\ndeeming him the king's brother, for that he was the nearest of\nfolk to him [in favour] and the likest, and he had been long in\nthe prison. So they doubted not but that he was the prince in\nquestion and said to him, 'Reign thou in thy brother's room, for\nwe have slain him and thou art king in his stead.' But Abou Sabir\nwas silent and spoke not a word; and he knew that this was the\nissue of his patience. Then he arose and sitting down on the\nking's throne, donned the royal raiment and discovered justice\nand equity and the affairs [of the realm] prospered [in his\nhand]; wherefore the folk obeyed him and the people inclined to\nhim and many were his troops.\n\nNow the king, who had plundered Abou Sabir['s goods] and driven\nhim forth of his village, had an enemy; and the latter took horse\nagainst him and overcame him and captured his [capital] city;\nwherefore he addressed himself to flight and came to Abou Sabir's\ncity, craving protection of him and seeking that he should\nsuccour him. He knew not that the king of the city was the\nheadman whom he had despoiled; so he presented himself before him\nand made complaint to him; but Abou Sabir knew him and said to\nhim, 'This is somewhat of the issue of patience. God the Most\nHigh hath given me power over thee.' Then he bade his guards\nplunder the [unjust] king and his attendants; so they plundered\nthem and stripping them of their clothes, put them forth of his\ncountry. When Abou Sabir's troops saw this, they marvelled and\nsaid, 'What is this deed that the king doth? There cometh a king\nto him, craving protection, and he despoileth him! This is not of\nthe fashion of kings.' But they dared not [be]speak [him] of\nthis.\n\nAfter this, news came to the king of robbers in his land; so he\nset out in quest of them and ceased not to follow after them,\ntill he seized on them all, and behold, they were the [very]\nthieves who had despoiled him [and his wife] by the way and taken\nhis children. So he bade bring them before him, and when they\ncame into his presence, he questioned them, saying, 'Where are\nthe two boys ye took on such a day?' Quoth they, 'They are with\nus and we will present them to our lord the king for slaves to\nserve him and give him wealth galore that we have gotten together\nand divest ourselves of all that we possess and repent from sin\nand fight in thy service.' Abou Sabir, however, paid no heed to\ntheir speech, but took all their good and bade put them all to\ndeath. Moreover, he took the two boys and rejoiced in them with\nan exceeding joy, whereat the troops murmured among themselves,\nsaying, 'Verily, this is a greater tyrant than his brother! There\ncome to him a sort of robbers and seek to repent and proffer two\nboys [by way of peace-offering], and he taketh the two boys and\nall their good and slayeth them!'\n\nAfter this came the horseman, who had taken Abou Sabir's wife,\nand complained of her to the king that she would not give him\npossession of herself, avouching that she was his wife. The king\nbade bring her before him, that he might hear her speech and\npronounce judgment upon her. So the horseman came with her before\nhim, and when the king saw her, he knew her and taking her from\nher ravisher, bade put the latter to death. Then he became aware\nof the troops, that they murmured against him and spoke of him as\na tyrant; so he turned to his officers and viziers and said to\nthem, 'As for me, by God the Great, I am not the king's brother!\nNay, I am but one whom the king imprisoned upon a word he heard\nfrom me and used every day to taunt me therewith. Ye think that I\nam the king's brother; but I am Abou Sabir and God hath given me\nthe kingship in virtue of my patience. As for the king who sought\nprotection of me and I despoiled him, it was he who first wronged\nme, for that he despoiled me aforetime and drove me forth of my\nnative land and banished me, without due [cause]; wherefore I\nrequited him with that which he had done to me, in the way of\nlawful vengeance. As for the thieves who proffered repentance,\nthere was no repentance for them with me, for that they began\nupon me with foul [dealing] and waylaid me by the road and\ndespoiled me and took my good and my sons. Now these two boys,\nthat I took of them and whom ye deemed slaves, are my very sons;\nso I avenged myself on the thieves of that which they did with me\naforetime and requited them with equity. As for the horseman whom\nI slew, the woman I took from him was my wife and he took her by\nforce, but God the Most High hath restored her [to me]; so this\nwas my right, and my deed that I have done was just, albeit ye,\n[judging] by the outward of the matter, deemed that I had done\nthis by way of tyranny.' When the folk heard this, they marvelled\nand fell prostrate before him; and they redoubled in esteem for\nhim and exceeding affection and excused themselves to him,\nmarvelling at that which God had done with him and how He had\ngiven him the kingship by reason of his longsuffering and his\npatience and how he had raised himself by his patience from the\nbottom of the pit to the throne of the kingdom, what while God\ncast down the [late] king from the throne into the pit.[FN#109]\nThen Abou Sabir foregathered with his wife and said to her, 'How\ndeemest thou of the fruit of patience and its sweetness and the\nfruit of haste and its bitterness? Verily, all that a man doth of\ngood and evil, he shall assuredly abide.' On like wise, O king,\"\ncontinued the young treasurer, \"it behoveth thee to practise\npatience, whenas it is possible to thee, for that patience is of\nthe fashion of the noble, and it is the chiefest of their\nreliance, especially for kings.\"\n\nWhen the king heard this from the youth, his anger subsided; so\nhe bade restore him to the prison, and the folk dispersed that\nday.\n\n                        The Fourth Day.\n\n\n\n              OF THE ILL EFFECTS OF PRECIPITATION.\n\n\n\nWhen it was the fourth day, the fourth vizier, whose name was\nZoushad, made his appearance and prostrating himself to the king,\nsaid to him, \"O king, suffer not the talk of yonder youth to\ndelude thee, for that he is not a truth-teller. So long as he\nabideth on life, the folk will not give over talking nor will thy\nheart cease to be occupied with him.\" \"By Allah,\" cried the king,\n\"thou sayst sooth and I will cause fetch him this day and slay\nhim before me.\" Then he commanded to bring the youth; so they\nbrought him in shackles and he said to him, \"Out on thee!\nThinkest thou to appease my heart with thy prate, whereby the\ndays are spent in talk? I mean to slay thee this day and be quit\nof thee.\" \"O king,\" answered the youth, \"it is in thy power to\nslay me whensoever thou wilt, but haste is of the fashion of the\nbase and patience of that of the noble. If thou put me to death,\nthou wilt repent, and if thou desire to bring me back to life,\nthou wilt not be able thereunto. Indeed, whoso acteth hastily in\nan affair, there befalleth him what befell Bihzad, son of the\nking.\" Quoth the king, \"And what is his story?\" \"O king,\" replied\nthe young treasurer,\n\n\n\n\n\n                    STORY OF PRINCE BIHZAD.\n\n\n\n\"There was once, of old time, a king and he had a son [named\nBihzad], there was not in his day a goodlier than he and he loved\nto consort with the folk and to sit with the merchants and\nconverse with them. One day, as he sat in an assembly, amongst a\nnumber of folk, he heard them talking of his own goodliness and\ngrace and saying, 'There is not in his time a goodlier than he.'\nBut one of the company said, 'Indeed, the daughter of King\nSuch-an-one is handsomer than he.' When Bihzad heard this saying,\nhis reason fled and his heart fluttered and he called the last\nspeaker and said to him, 'Repeat to me that which thou saidst and\ntell me the truth concerning her whom thou avouchest to be\nhandsomer than I and whose daughter she is.' Quoth the man, 'She\nis the daughter of King Such-an-one;' whereupon Bihzad's heart\nclave to her and his colour changed.\n\nThe news reached his father, who said to him, 'O my son, this\ndamsel to whom thy heart cleaveth is at thy commandment and we\nhave power over her; so wait till I demand her [in marriage] for\nthee.' But the prince said, 'I will not wait.' So his father\nhastened in the matter and sent to demand her of her father, who\nrequired of him a hundred thousand dinars to his daughter's\ndowry. Quoth Bihzad's father, 'So be it,' and paid down what was\nin his treasuries, and there remained to his charge but a little\nof the dower. So he said to his son, 'Have patience, O my son,\ntill we gather together the rest of the money and send to fetch\nher to thee, for that she is become thine.' Therewith the prince\nwaxed exceeding wroth and said, 'I will not have patience;' so he\ntook his sword and his spear and mounting his horse, went forth\nand fell to stopping the way, [so haply that he might win what\nlacked of the dowry].\n\nIt chanced one day that he fell in upon a company of folk and\nthey overcame him by dint of numbers and taking him prisoner,\npinioned him and carried him to the lord of that country. The\nlatter saw his fashion and grace and misdoubting of him, said,\n'This is no robber's favour. Tell me truly, O youth, who thou\nart.' Bihzad thought shame to acquaint him with his condition and\nchose rather death for himself; so he answered, 'I am nought but\na thief and a bandit.' Quoth the king, 'It behoveth us not to act\nhastily in the matter of this youth, but that we look into his\naffair, for that haste still engendereth repentance.' So he\nimprisoned him in his palace and assigned him one who should\nserve him.\n\nMeanwhile, the news spread abroad that Bihzad, son of the king,\nwas lost, whereupon his father sent letters in quest of him [to\nall the kings and amongst others to him with whom he was\nimprisoned]. When the letter reached the latter, he praised God\nthe Most High for that he had not anydele hastened in Bihzad's\naffair and letting bring him before himself, said to him, 'Art\nthou minded to destroy thyself?' Quoth Bihzad, '[I did this] for\nfear of reproach;' and the king said, 'An thou fear reproach,\nthou shouldst not practise haste [in that thou dost]; knowest\nthou not that the fruit of haste is repentance? If we had hasted,\nwe also, like unto thee, we had repented.'\n\nThen he conferred on him a dress of honour and engaged to him for\nthe completion of the dowry and sent to his father, giving him\nthe glad news and comforting his heart with [the tidings of] his\nson's safety; after which he said to Bihzad, Arise, O my son, and\ngo to thy father.' 'O king,' rejoined the prince, 'complete thy\nkindness to me by [hastening] my going-in to my wife; for, if I\ngo back to my father, till he send a messenger and he return,\npromising me, the time will be long.' The king laughed and\nmarvelled at him and said to him, 'I fear for thee from this\nhaste, lest thou come to shame and attain not thy desire.' Then\nhe gave him wealth galore and wrote him letters, commending him\nto the father of the princess, and despatched him to them. When\nhe drew near their country, the king came forth to meet him with\nthe people of his realm and assigned him a handsome lodging and\nbade hasten the going-in of his daughter to him, in compliance\nwith the other king's letter. Moreover, he advised the prince's\nfather [of his son's coming] and they busied themselves with the\naffair of the damsel.\n\nWhen it was the day of the going-in,[FN#110] Bihzad, of his haste\nand lack of patience, betook himself to the wall, which was\nbetween himself and the princess's lodging and in which there was\na hole pierced, and looked, so he might see his bride, of his\nhaste. But the bride's mother saw him and this was grievous to\nher; so she took from one of the servants two red-hot iron spits\nand thrust them into the hole through which the prince was\nlooking. The spits ran into his eyes and put them out and he fell\ndown aswoon and joyance was changed and became mourning and sore\nconcern. See, then, O king,\" continued the youth, \"the issue of\nthe prince's haste and lack of deliberation, for indeed his haste\nbequeathed him long repentance and his joy was changed to\nmourning; and on like wise was it with the woman who hastened to\nput out his eyes and deliberated not. All this was the doing of\nhaste; wherefore it behoveth the king not to be hasty in putting\nme to death, for that I am under the grasp of his hand, and what\ntime soever thou desirest my slaughter, it shall not escape\n[thee].\"\n\nWhen the king heard this, his anger subsided and he said, \"Carry\nhim back to prison till to-morrow, to we may look into his\naffair.\"\n\n                         The Fifth Day\n\n\n\n            OF THE ISSUES OF GOOD AND EVIL ACTIONS.\n\n\n\nWhen it was the fifth day, the fifth Vizier, whose name was\nJehrbaur, came in to the king and prostrating himself before him,\nsaid, \"O king, it behoveth thee, if thou see or hear that one\nlook on thy house,[FN#111] that thou put out his eyes. How then\nshould it be with him whom thou sawest midmost thy house and on\nthy very bed, and he suspected with thy harem, and not of thy\nlineage nor of thy kindred? Wherefore do thou away this reproach\nby putting him to death. Indeed, we do but urge thee unto this\nfor the assurance of thine empire and of our zeal for thy loyal\ncounselling and of our love to thee. How can it be lawful that\nthis youth should live for a single hour?\"\n\nTherewith the king was filled with wrath and said, \"Bring him\nforthright,\" So they brought the youth before him, shackled, and\nthe king said to him, \"Out on thee! Thou hast sinned a great sin\nand the time of thy life hath been long;[FN#112] but needs must\nwe put thee to death, for that there is for us no ease in thy\nlife after this,\" \"O king,\" answered he, \"know that I, by Allah,\nam guiltless, and by reason of this I hope for life, for that he\nwho is guiltless of offence goeth not in fear of punishment\nneither maketh great his mourning and his concern; but whoso hath\nsinned, needs must his sin be expiated upon him, though his life\nbe prolonged, and it shall overtake him, even as it overtook\nDadbin the king and his vizier.\" \"How was that?\" asked Azadbekht,\nand the youth said,\n\n\n\n\n\n             STORY OF KING DADBIN AND HIS VIZIERS.\n\n\n\n\"There was once a king in the land of Teberistan, by name Dadbin,\nand he had two viziers, called one Zourkhan and the other Kardan.\nThe Vizier Zourkhan had a daughter, there was not in her time a\nhandsomer than she nor yet a chaster nor a more pious, for she\nwas a faster, a prayer and a worshipper of God the Most High, and\nher name was Arwa. Now Dadbin heard tell of her charms; so his\nheart clave to her and he called the vizier [her father] and said\nto him, 'I desire of thee that thou marry me to thy daughter.'\nQuoth Zourkhan, 'Allow me to consult her, and if she consent, I\nwill marry thee with her.' And the king said, 'Hasten unto this.'\n\nSo the vizier went in to his daughter and said to her, 'O my\ndaughter, the king seeketh thee of me and desireth to marry\nthee.' 'O my father,' answered she 'I desire not a husband and if\nthou wilt marry me, marry me not but with one who shall be below\nme in rank and I nobler than he, so he may not turn to other than\nmyself nor lift his eyes upon me, and marry me not to one who is\nnobler than I, lest I be with him as a slave-girl and a\nserving-woman.' So the vizier returned to the king and acquainted\nhim with that which his daughter had said, whereat he redoubled\nin desire and love-liking for her and said to her father, 'An\nthou marry me not to her of good grace, I will take her by force\nin thy despite.' The vizier again betook himself to his daughter\nand repeated to her the king's words, but she replied, 'I desire\nnot a husband.' So he returned to the king and told him what she\nsaid, and he was wroth and threatened the vizier, whereupon the\nlatter took his daughter and fled with her.\n\nWhen this came to the king's knowledge, he despatched troops in\npursuit of Zourkhan, to stop the road upon him, whilst he himself\nwent out and overtaking the vizier, smote him on the head with\nhis mace and slew him. Then he took his daughter by force and\nreturning to his dwelling-place, went in to her and married her.\nArwa resigned herself with patience to that which betided her and\ncommitted her affair to God the Most High; and indeed she was\nused to serve Him day and night with a goodly service in the\nhouse of King Dabdin her husband.\n\nIt befell one day that the king had occasion to make a journey;\nso he called his Vizier Kardan and said to him, 'I have a trust\nto commit to thy care, and it is yonder damsel, my wife, the\ndaughter of the Vizier [Zourkhan], and I desire that thou keep\nher and guard her thyself, for that there is not in the world\naught dearer to me than she.' Quoth Kardan in himself, 'Of a\ntruth, the king honoureth me with an exceeding honour [in\nentrusting me] with this damsel.' And he answered 'With all my\nheart.'\n\nWhen the king had departed on his journey, the vizier said in\nhimself, 'Needs must I look upon this damsel whom the king loveth\nwith all this love.' So he hid himself in a place, that he might\nlook upon her, and saw her overpassing description; wherefore he\nwas confounded at her and his wit was dazed and love got the\nmastery of him, so that he said to her, saying, 'Have pity on me,\nfor indeed I perish for the love of thee.' She sent back to him,\nsaying, 'O vizier, thou art in the place of trust and confidence,\nso do not thou betray thy trust, but make thine inward like unto\nthine outward[FN#113] and occupy thyself with thy wife and that\nwhich is lawful to thee. As for this, it is lust and [women are\nall of] one taste.[FN#114] And if thou wilt not be forbidden from\nthis talk, I will make thee a byword and a reproach among the\nfolk.' When the vizier heard her answer, he knew that she was\nchaste of soul and body; wherefore he repented with the utmost of\nrepentance and feared for himself from the king and said, 'Needs\nmust I contrive a device wherewithal I may destroy her; else\nshall I be disgraced with the king.'\n\nWhen the king returned from his journey, he questioned his vizier\nof the affairs of his kingdom and the latter answered, 'All is\nwell, O king, save a vile matter, which I have discovered here\nand wherewith I am ashamed to confront the king; but, if I hold\nmy peace thereof, I fear lest other than I discover it and I [be\ndeemed to] have played traitor to the king in the matter of my\n[duty of] loyal warning and my trust.' Quoth Dabdin, 'Speak, for\nthou art none other than a truth-teller, a trusty one, a loyal\ncounsellor in that which thou sayest, undistrusted in aught.' And\nthe vizier said, 'O king, this woman to whose love thy heart\ncleaveth and of whose piety thou talkest and her fasting and\npraying, I will make plain to thee that this is craft and guile.'\nAt this, the king was troubled and said, 'What is to do?' 'Know,'\nanswered the vizier, 'that some days after thy departure, one\ncame to me and said to me, \"Come, O vizier, and look.\" So I went\nto the door of the [queen's] sleeping-chamber and beheld her\nsitting with Aboulkhair, her father's servant, whom she\nfavoureth, and she did with him what she did, and this is the\nmanner of that which I saw and heard.'\n\nWhen Dabdin heard this, he burnt with rage and said to one of his\neunuchs,[FN#115] 'Go and slay her in her chamber.' But the eunuch\nsaid to him, 'O king, may God prolong thy continuance! Indeed,\nthe killing of her may not be at this time; but do thou bid one\nof thine eunuchs take her up on a camel and carry her to one of\nthe trackless deserts and cast her down there; so, if she be at\nfault, God shall cause her to perish, and if she be innocent, He\nwill deliver her, and the king shall be free from sin against\nher, for that this damsel is dear to thee and thou slewest her\nfather by reason of thy love for her.' Quoth the king, 'By Allah,\nthou sayst sooth!' Then he bade one of his eunuchs carry her on a\ncamel to one of the far-off deserts and there leave her and go\naway, and he forbade [him] to prolong her torment. So he took her\nup and betaking himself with her to the desert, left her there\nwithout victual or water and returned, whereupon she made for one\nof the [sand-]hills and ranging stones before her [in the form of\na prayer-niche], stood praying.\n\nNow it chanced that a camel-driver, belonging to Kisra the king,\nlost certain camels and the king threatened him, if he found them\nnot, that he would slay him. So he set out and plunged into the\ndeserts till he came to the place where the damsel was and seeing\nher standing praying, waited till she had made an end of her\nprayer, when he went up to her and saluted her, saying, 'Who art\nthou?' Quoth she, 'I am a handmaid of God.' 'What dost thou in\nthis desolate place?' asked he, and she said, 'I serve God the\nMost High.' When he saw her beauty and grace, he said to her,\n'Harkye! Do thou take me to husband and I will be tenderly\nsolicitous over thee and use thee with exceeding compassion and I\nwill further thee in obedience to God the Most High.' But she\nanswered, saying, 'I have no need of marriage and I desire to\nabide here [alone] with my Lord and His service; but, if thou\nwouldst deal compassionately with me and further me in the\nobedience of God the Most High, carry me to a place where there\nis water and thou wilt have done me a kindness.'\n\nSo he carried her to a place wherein was running water and\nsetting her down on the ground, left her and went away,\nmarvelling at her. After he left her, he found his camels, by her\nblessing, and when he returned, King Kisra asked him, 'Hast thou\nfound the camels?' ['Yes,' answered he] and acquainted him with\nthe affair of the damsel and set out to him her beauty and grace;\nwhereupon the king's heart clave to her and he mounted with a few\nmen and betook himself to that place, where he found the damsel\nand was amazed at her, for that he saw her overpassing the\ndescription wherewith the camel-driver had described her to him.\nSo he accosted her and said to her, 'I am King Kisra, greatest of\nthe kings. Wilt thou not have me to husband?' Quoth she, 'What\nwilt thou do with me, O king, and I a woman abandoned in the\ndesert?' And he answered, saying, 'Needs must this be, and if\nthou wilt not consent to me, I will take up my sojourn here and\ndevote myself to God's service and thine and worship Him with\nthee.'\n\nThen he bade set up for her a tent and another for himself,\nfacing hers, so he might worship God with her, and fell to\nsending her food; and she said in herself, 'This is a king and it\nis not lawful for me that I suffer him forsake his subjects and\nhis kingdom for my sake. So she said to the serving-woman, who\nused to bring her the food, 'Speak to the king, so he may return\nto his women, for he hath no need of me and I desire to abide in\nthis place, so I may worship God the Most High therein.' The\nslave-girl returned to the king and told him this, whereupon he\nsent back to her, saying, 'I have no need of the kingship and I\nalso desire to abide here and worship God with thee in this\ndesert.' When she found this earnestness in him, she consented to\nhis wishes and said, 'O king, I will consent unto thee in that\nwhich thou desirest and will be to thee a wife, but on condition\nthat thou bring me Dadbin the king and his Vizier Kardan and his\nchamberlain[FN#116] and that they be present in thine assembly,\nso I may speak a word with them in thy presence, to the intent\nthat thou mayest redouble in affection for me.' Quoth Kisra, 'And\nwhat is thine occasion unto this?' So she related to him her\nstory from first to last, how she was the wife of Dadbin the king\nand how the latter's vizier had miscalled her honour.\n\nWhen King Kisra heard this, he redoubled in loveliking for her\nand affection and said to her, 'Do what thou wilt.' So he let\nbring a litter and carrying her therein to his dwelling-place,\nmarried her and entreated her with the utmost honour. Then he\nsent a great army to King Dadbin and fetching him and his vizier\nand the chamberlain, caused bring them before him, unknowing what\nhe purposed with them. Moreover, he caused set up for Arwa a\npavilion in the courtyard of his palace and she entered therein\nand let down the curtain before herself. When the servants had\nset their seats and they had seated themselves, Arwa raised a\ncorner of the curtain and said, 'O Kardan, rise to thy feet, for\nit befitteth not that thou sit in the like of this assembly,\nbefore this mighty King Kisra.' When the vizier heard these\nwords, his heart quaked and his joints were loosened and of his\nfear, he rose to his feet. Then said she to him, 'By the virtue\nof Him who hath made thee stand in this place of standing [up to\njudgment], and thou abject and humiliated, I conjure thee speak\nthe truth and say what prompted thee to lie against me and cause\nme go forth from my house and from the hand of my husband and\nmade thee practise thus against a man,[FN#117] a true believer,\nand slay him. This is no place wherein leasing availeth nor may\nprevarication be therein.'\n\nWhen the vizier was ware that she was Arwa and heard her speech,\nhe knew that it behoved him not to lie and that nought would\navail him but truth-speaking; so he bowed [his head] to the\nground and wept and said, 'Whoso doth evil, needs must he abide\nit, though his day be prolonged. By Allah, I am he who hath\nsinned and transgressed, and nought prompted me unto this but\nfear and overmastering desire and the affliction written upon my\nforehead;[FN#118] and indeed this woman is pure and chaste and\nfree from all fault.' When King Dadbin heard this, he buffeted\nhis face and said to his vizier, 'God slay thee! It is thou that\nhast parted me and my wife and wronged me!' But Kisra the king\nsaid to him, 'God shall surely slay thee, for that thou\nhastenedst and lookedst not into thine affair and knewest not the\nguilty from the guiltless. Hadst thou wrought deliberately, the\nfalse had been made manifest to thee from the true; so where was\nthy judgment and thy sight?\"\n\nThen said he to Arwa, \"What wilt thou that I do with them?\" And\nshe answered, saying, \"Accomplish on them the ordinance of God\nthe Most High;[FN#119] the slayer shall be slain and the\ntransgressor transgressed against, even as he transgressed\nagainst us; yea, and the well-doer, good shall be done unto him,\neven as he did unto us.\" So she gave [her officers] commandment\nconcerning Dadbin and they smote him on the head with a mace and\nslew him, and she said, \"This is for the slaughter of my father.\"\nThen she bade set the vizier on a beast [and carry him] to the\ndesert whither he had caused carry her [and leave him there\nwithout victual or water]; and she said to him, \"An thou be\nguilty, thou shalt abide [the punishment of] thy guilt and perish\nof hunger and thirst in the desert; but, if there be no guilt in\nthee, thou shalt be delivered, even as I was delivered.\"\n\nAs for the eunuch, the chamberlain, who had counselled King\nDadbin [not to slay her, but] to [cause] carry her to the desert\n[and there abandon her], she bestowed on him a sumptuous dress of\nhonour and said to him, \"The like of thee it behoveth kings to\nhold in favour and set in high place, for that thou spokest\nloyally and well, and a man is still requited according to his\ndeed.\" And Kisra the king invested him with the governance of one\nof the provinces of his empire. Know, therefore, O king,\"\ncontinued the youth, \"that whoso doth good is requited therewith\nand he who is guiltless of sin and reproach feareth not the issue\nof his affair. And I, O king, am free from guilt, wherefore I\ntrust in God that He will show forth the truth and vouchsafe me\nthe victory over enemies and enviers.\"\n\nWhen the king heard this, his wrath subsided and he said, \"Carry\nhim back to the prison till the morrow, so we may look into his\naffair.\"\n\n                         The Sixth Day\n\n\n\n                        OF TRUST IN GOD.\n\n\n\nWhen it was the sixth day, the viziers' wrath redoubled, for that\nthey had not compassed their desire of the youth and they feared\nfor themselves from the king; so three of them went in to him and\nprostrating themselves before him, said to him, \"O king, indeed\nwe are loyal counsellors to thy dignity and tenderly solicitous\nfor thee. Verily, thou persistest long in sparing this youth\nalive and we know not what is thine advantage therein. Every day\nfindeth him yet on life and the talk redoubleth suspicions on\nthee; so do thou put him to death, that the talk may be made an\nend of.\" When the king heard this speech, he said, \"By Allah,\nindeed, ye say sooth and speak rightly!\" Then he let bring the\nyoung treasurer and said to him, \"How long shall I look into\nthine affair and find no helper for thee and see them all athirst\nfor thy blood?\"\n\n\"O king,\" answered the youth, \"I hope for succour only from God,\nnot from created beings: if He aid me, none can avail to harm me,\nand if He be with me and on my side, because of the truth, who is\nit I shall fear, because of falsehood? Indeed, I have made my\nintent with God a pure and sincere intent and have severed my\nexpectation from the help of the creature; and whoso seeketh help\n[of God] findeth of his desire that which Bekhtzeman found.\"\nQuoth the king, \"Who was Bekhtzeman and what is his story?\" \"O\nking,\" replied the youth,\n\n\n\n\n\n                   STORY OF KING BEKHTZEMAN.\n\n\n\n\"There was once a king of the kings, whose name was Bekhtzeman,\nand he was a great eater and drinker and carouser. Now enemies of\nhis made their appearance in certain parts of his realm and\nthreatened him; and one of his friends said to him, 'O king, the\nenemy maketh for thee: be on thy guard against him.' Quoth\nBekhtzeman, 'I reck not of him, for that I have arms and wealth\nand men and am not afraid of aught.' Then said his friends to\nhim, 'Seek aid of God, O king, for He will help thee more than\nthy wealth and thine arms and thy men.' But he paid no heed to\nthe speech of his loyal counsellors, and presently the enemy came\nupon him and waged war upon him and got the victory over him and\nhis trust in other than God the Most High profited him nought. So\nhe fled from before him and seeking one of the kings, said to\nhim, 'I come to thee and lay hold upon thy skirts and take refuge\nwith thee, so thou mayst help me against mine enemy.'\n\nThe king gave him money and men and troops galore and Bekhtzeman\nsaid in himself, 'Now am I fortified with this army and needs\nmust I conquer my enemy therewith and overcome him;' but he said\nnot, 'With the aid of God the Most High.' So his enemy met him\nand overcame him again and he was defeated and put to the rout\nand fled at a venture. His troops were dispersed from him and his\nmoney lost and the enemy followed after him. So he sought the sea\nand passing over to the other side, saw a great city and therein\na mighty citadel. He asked the name of the city and to whom it\nbelonged and they said to him, 'It belongeth to Khedidan the\nking.' So he fared on till he came to the king's palace aud\nconcealing his condition, passed himself off for a\nhorseman[FN#120] and sought service with King Khedidan, who\nattached him to his household and entreated him with honour; but\nhis heart still clave to his country and his home.\n\nPresently, it chanced that an enemy attacked King Khedidan; so he\nsent out his troops to him and made Bekhtzeman head of the army.\nThen they went forth to the field and Khedidan also came forth\nand ranged his troops and took the spear and sallied out in\nperson and fought a sore battle and overcame his enemy, who fled,\nhe and his troops, ignominiously. When the king and his army\nreturned in triumph, Bekhtzeman said to him, 'Harkye, O king!\nMeseemeth this is a strange thing of thee that thou art compassed\nabout with this vast army, yet dost thou apply thyself in person\nto battle and adventurest thyself.' Quoth the king, 'Dost thou\ncall thyself a cavalier and a man of learning and deemest that\nvictory is in abundance of troops?' 'Ay,' answered Bekhtzeman;\n'that is indeed my belief.' And Khedidan said, 'By Allah, then,\nthou errest in this thy belief! Woe and again woe to him whose\ntrust is in other than God! Indeed, this army is appointed only\nfor adornment and majesty, and victory is from God alone. I too,\nO Bekhtzeman, believed aforetime that victory was in the\nmultitude of men, and an enemy came out against me with eight\nhundred men, whilst I had eight hundred thousand. I trusted in\nthe number of my troops, whilst mine enemy trusted in God; so he\ndefeated me and routed me and I was put to a shameful flight and\nhid myself in one of the mountains, where I met with a recluse,\n[who had] withdrawn [himself from the world]. So I joined myself\nto him and complained to him of my case and acquainted him with\nall that had befallen me. Quoth he, \"Knowest thou why this befell\nthee and thou wast defeated?\" \"I know not,\" answered I, and he\nsaid, \"Because thou puttest thy trust in the multitude of thy\ntroops and reliedst not upon God the Most High. Hadst thou put\nthy trust in God and believed in Him that it is He [alone] who\nadvantageth and endamageth thee, thine enemy had not availed to\ncope with thee. Return unto God.\" So I returned to myself and\nrepented at the hands of the solitary, who said to me, \"Turn back\nwith what remaineth to thee of troops and confront thine enemies,\nfor, if their intents be changed from God, thou wilt overcome\nthem, wert thou alone.\" When I heard these words, I put my trust\nin God the Most High, and gathering together those who remained\nwith me, fell upon mine enemies at unawares in the night. They\ndeemed us many and fled on the shamefullest wise, whereupon I\nentered my city and repossessed myself of my place by the might\nof God the Most High, and now I fight not but [trusting] in His\naid.'\n\nWhen Bekhtzeman heard this, he awoke from his heedlessness and\nsaid, 'Extolled be the perfection of God the Great! O king, this\nis my case and my story, nothing added and nought diminished, for\nI am King Bekhtzeman and all this happened to me; wherefore I\nwill seek the gate of God['s mercy] and repent unto Him.' So he\nwent forth to one of the mountains and there worshipped God\nawhile, till one night, as he slept, one appeared to him in a\ndream and said to him, 'O Bekhtzeman, God accepteth thy\nrepentance and openeth on thee [the gate of succour] and will\nfurther thee against thine enemy.' When he was certified of this\nin the dream, he arose and turned back, intending for his own\ncity; and when he drew near thereunto, he saw a company of the\nking's retainers, who said to him, 'Whence art thou? We see that\nthou art a stranger and fear for thee from this king, for that\nevery stranger who enters this city, he destroys him, of his fear\nof King Bekhtzeman.' Quoth Bekhtzeman, 'None shall hurt him nor\nadvantage him save God the Most High.' And they answered, saying,\n'Indeed, he hath a vast army and his heart is fortified in the\nmultitude of his troops.'\n\nWhen King Bekhtzeman heard this, his heart was comforted and he\nsaid in himself, 'I put my trust in God. If He will, I shall\novercome mine enemy by the might of God the Most High.' So he\nsaid to the folk, ' Know ye not who I am?' and they answered, '\nNo, by Allah.' Quoth he, 'I am King Bekhtzeman.' When they heard\nthis and knew that it was indeed he, they dismounted from their\nhorses and kissed his stirrup, to do him honour, and said to him,\n'O king, why hast thou thus adventured thyself?' Quoth he,\n'Indeed, my life is a light matter to me and I put my trust in\nGod the Most High, looking to Him for protection.' And they\nanswered him, saying, 'May this suffice thee! We will do with\nthee that which is in our power and whereof thou art worthy:\ncomfort thy heart, for we will succour thee with our goods and\nour lives, and we are his chief officers and the most in favour\nwith him of all folk. So we will take thee with us and cause the\nfolk follow after thee, for that the inclination of the people,\nall of them, is to thee.' Quoth he, 'Do that unto which God the\nMost High enableth you.'\n\nSo they carried him into the city and hid him with them.\nMoreover, they agreed with a company of the king's chief\nofficers, who had aforetime been those of Bekhtzeman, and\nacquainted them with this; whereat they rejoiced with an\nexceeding joy. Then they assembled together to Bekhtzeman and\nmade a covenant and handfast [of fealty] with him and fell upon\nthe enemy at unawares and slew him and seated King Bekhtzeman\nagain on the throne of his kingship. And his affairs prospered\nand God amended his estate and restored His bounty to him, and he\nruled his subjects justly and abode in the obedience of the Most\nHigh. On this wise, O king,\" continued the young treasurer, \"he\nwith whom God is and whose intent is pure, meeteth nought but\ngood. As for me, I have no helper other than God, and I am\ncontent to submit myself to His ordinance, for that He knoweth\nthe purity of my intent.\"\n\nWith this the king's wrath subsided and he said, \"Restore him to\nthe prison till the morrow, so we may look into his affair.\"\n\n                        The Seventh Day.\n\n\n\n                          OF CLEMENCY.\n\n\n\nWhen it was the seventh day, the seventh vizier, whose name was\nBihkemal, came in to the king and prostrating himself to him,\nsaid, \"O king, what doth thy long-suffering with this youth\nadvantage thee? Indeed the folk talk of thee and of him. Why,\nthen, dost thou postpone the putting him to death?\" The vizier's\nwords aroused the king's anger and he bade bring the youth. So\nthey brought him before him, shackled, and Azadbekht said to him,\n\"Out on thee! By Allah, after this day there abideth no\ndeliverance for thee from my hand, for that thou hast outraged\nmine honour, and there can be no forgiveness for thee.\"\n\n\"O king,\" answered the youth, \"there is no great forgiveness save\nin case of a great crime, for according as the offence is great,\nin so much is forgiveness magnified and it is no dishonour to the\nlike of thee if he spare the like of me. Verily, Allah knoweth\nthat there is no fault in me, and indeed He commandeth unto\nclemency, and no clemency is greater than that which spareth from\nslaughter, for that thy forgiveness of him whom thou purposest to\nput to death is as the quickening of a dead man; and whoso doth\nevil shall find it before him, even as it was with King Bihkerd.\"\n\"And what is the story of King Bihkerd?\" asked the king. \"O\nking,\" answered the youth,\n\n\n\n\n\n                     STORY OF KING BIHKERD.\n\n\n\n\"There was once a king named Bihkerd aed he had wealth galore and\nmany troops; but his deeds were evil and he would punish for a\nslight offence and never forgave. He went forth one day to hunt\nand one of his servants shot an arrow, which lit on the king's\near and cut it off. Quoth Bihkerd, 'Who shot that arrow?' So the\nguards brought him in haste the offender, whose name was Yetrou,\nand he of his fear fell down on the ground in a swoon. Then said\nthe king, 'Put him to death;' but Yetrou said, 'O King, this that\nhath befallen was not of my choice nor of my knowledge; so do\nthou pardon me, in the hour of thy power over me, for that\nclemency is of the goodliest of things and belike it shall be [in\nthis world] a provision and a good work [for which thou shall be\nrequited] one of these days, and a treasure [laid up to thine\naccount] with God in the world to come. Pardon me, therefore, and\nfend off evil from me, so shall God fend off from thee evil the\nlike thereof.' When the king heard this, it pleased him and he\npardoned the servant, albeit he had never before pardoned any.\n\nNow this servant was of the sons of the kings and had fled from\nhis father, on account of an offence he had committed. Then he\nwent and took service with King Bihkerd and there happened to him\nwhat happened. After awhile, it chanced that a man recognized him\nand went and told his father, who sent him a letter, comforting\nhis heart and mind and [beseeching him] to return to him. So he\nreturned to his father, who came forth to meet him and rejoiced\nin him, and the prince's affairs were set right with him.\n\nIt befell, one day of the days, that King Bihkerd embarked in a\nship and put out to sea, so he might fish; but the wind blew on\nthem and the ship foundered. The king won ashore on a plank,\nunknown of any, and came forth, naked, on one of the coasts; and\nit chanced that he landed in the country whereof the father of\nthe youth aforesaid, [his sometime servant], was king. So he came\nin the night to the gate of the latter's city and [finding it\nshut], took up his lodging [for the night] in a burying-place\nthere.\n\nWhen the morning morrowed and the folk came forth of the city,\nthey found a murdered man cast down in a corner of the\nburial-ground and seeing Bihkerd there, doubted not but it was he\nwho had slain him; so they laid hands on him and carried him up\nto the king and said to him, 'This fellow hath slain a man.' The\nking bade imprison him; [so they clapped him in prison] and he\nfell a-saying in himself, what while he was in the prison, 'All\nthat hath befallen me is of the abundance of my sins and my\ntyranny, for, indeed, I have slain much people unrighteously and\nthis is the requital of my deeds and that which I have wrought\naforetime of oppression.' As he was thus pondering in himself,\nthere came a bird and lighted down on the coign of the prison,\nwhereupon, of his much eagerness in the chase, he took a stone\nand cast it at the bird.\n\nNow the king's son was playing in the exercise-ground with the\nball and the mall, and the stone lit on his ear and cut it off,\nwhereupon the prince fell down in a swoon. So they enquired who\nhad thrown the stone and [finding that it was Bihkerd,] took him\nand carried him before the prince, who bade put him to death.\nAccordingly, they cast the turban from his head and were about to\nbind his eyes, when the prince looked at him and seeing him\ncropped of an ear, said to him, 'Except thou wert a lewd fellow,\nthine ear had not been cut off.' 'Not so, by Allah!' answered\nBihkerd. 'Nay, but the story [of the loss] of my ear is thus and\nthus, and I pardoned him who smote me with an arrow and cut off\nmy ear.' When the prince heard this, he looked in his face and\nknowing him, cried out and said, 'Art thou not Bihkerd the king?'\n'Yes,' answered he, and the prince said to him 'What bringeth\nthee here?' So he told him all that had betided him and the folk\nmarvelled and extolled the perfection of God the Most High.\n\nThen the prince rose to him and embraced him and kissed him and\nentreated him with honour. Moreover, he seated him in a chair and\nbestowed on him a dress of honour; and he turned to his father\nand said to him, 'This is the king who pardoned me and this is\nhis ear that I cut off with an arrow; and indeed he deserveth\npardon from me, for that he pardoned me.' Then said he to\nBihkerd, 'Verily, the issue of clemency hath been a provision for\nthee [in thine hour of need].' And they entreated him with the\nutmost kindness and sent him back to his own country in all\nhonour and worship Know, then, O King,\" continued the youth,\n\"that there is no goodlier thing than clemency and that all thou\ndost thereof, thou shalt find before thee, a treasure laid up for\nthee.\"\n\nWhen the king heard this, his wrath subsided and he said, \"Carry\nhim back to the prison till the morrow, so we may look into his\naffair.\"\n\n                        The Eighth Day.\n\n\n\n                      OF ENVY AND MALICE.\n\n\n\nWhen it was the eighth day, the viziers all assembled and took\ncounsel together and said, \"How shall we do with this youth, who\nbaffleth us with his much talk? Indeed, we fear lest he be saved\nand we fall [into perdition]. Wherefore, let us all go in to the\nking and unite our efforts to overcome him, ere he appear without\nguilt and come forth and get the better of us.\" So they all went\nin to the king and prostrating themselves before him, said to\nhim, \"O king, have a care lest this youth beguile thee with his\nsorcery and bewitch thee with his craft. If thou heardest what we\nhear, thou wouldst not suffer him live, no, not one day. So pay\nthou no heed to his speech, for we are thy viziers, [who\nendeavour for] thy continuance, and if thou hearken not to our\nword, to whose word wilt thou hearken? See, we are ten viziers\nwho testify against this youth that he is guilty and entered not\nthe king's sleeping-chamber but with evil intent, so he might put\nthe king to shame and outrage his honour; and if the king slay\nhim not, let him banish him his realm, so the tongue of the folk\nmay desist from him.\"\n\nWhen the king heard his viziers' words, he was exceeding wroth\nand bade bring the youth, and when he came in to the king, the\nviziers all cried out with one voice, saying, \"O scant o' grace,\nthinkest thou to save thyself from slaughter by craft and guile,\nthat thou beguilest the king with thy talk and hopest pardon for\nthe like of this great crime which thou hast committed?\" Then the\nking bade fetch the headsman, so he might smite off his head;\nwhereupon each of the viziers fell a-saying, \"I will slay him;\"\nand they sprang upon him. Quote the youth, \"O king, consider and\nponder these men's eagerness. Is this of envy or no? They would\nfain make severance between thee and me, so there may fall to\nthem what they shall plunder, as aforetime.\" And the king said to\nhim, \"Consider their testimony against thee.\" \"O king,\" answered\nthe young man, \"how shall they testify of that which they saw\nnot? This is but envy and rancour; and thou, if thou slay me,\nthou wilt regret me, and I fear lest there betide thee of\nrepentance that which betided Ilan Shah, by reason of the malice\nof his viziers.\" \"And what is his story?\" asked Azadbekht. \"O\nking,\" replied the youth,\n\n\n\n\n\n               STORY OF ILAN SHAH AND ABOU TEMAM.\n\n\n\n\"There was once a merchant named Abou Temam, and he was a man of\nunderstanding and good breeding, quick-witted and truthful in all\nhis affairs, and he had wealth galore. Now there was in his land\nan unjust king and a jealous, and Abou Temam feared for his\nwealth from this king and said, 'I will remove hence to another\nplace where I shall not be in fear.' So he made for the city of\nIlan Shah and built himself a palace therein and transporting his\nwealth thither, took up his abode there. Presently, the news of\nhim reached King Ilan Shah; so he sent to bid him to his presence\nand said to him, 'We know of thy coming to us and thine entry\nunder our allegiance, and indeed we have heard of thine\nexcellence and wit and generosity; so welcome to thee and fair\nwelcome! The land is thy land and at thy commandment, and\nwhatsoever occasion thou hast unto us, it is [already]\naccomplished unto thee; and it behoveth that thou be near our\nperson and of our assembly.' Abou Temam prostrated himself to the\nking and said to him, 'O king, I will serve thee with my wealth\nand my life, but do thou excuse me from nearness unto thee, for\nthat, [if I took service about thy person], I should not be safe\nfrom enemies and enviers.' Then he addressed himself to serve the\nking with presents and largesses, and the king saw him to be\nintelligent, well-bred and of good counsel; so he committed to\nhim the ordinance of his affairs and in his hand was the power to\nbind and loose.\n\nNow Ilan Shah had three viziers, in whose hands the affairs [of\nthe kingdom] were [aforetime] and they had been used to leave not\nthe king night nor day; but they became shut out from him by\nreason of Abou Temam and the king was occupied with him to their\nexclusion. So they took counsel together upon the matter and\nsaid, 'What counsel ye we should do, seeing that the king is\noccupied from us with yonder man, and indeed he honoureth him\nmore than us? But now come, let us cast about for a device,\nwhereby we may remove him from the king.' So each of them spoke\nforth that which was in his mind, and one of them said, 'The king\nof the Turks hath a daughter, whose like there is not in the\nworld, and whatsoever messenger goeth to demand her in marriage,\nher father slayeth him. Now our king hath no knowledge of this;\nso, come, let us foregather with him and bring up the talk of\nher. When his heart is taken with her, we will counsel him to\ndespatch Abou Temam to seek her hand in marriage; whereupon her\nfather will slay him and we shall be quit of him, for we have had\nenough of his affair.\"\n\nAccordingly, they all went in to the king one day (and Abou Temam\nwas present among them,) and mentioned the affair of the damsel,\nthe king's daughter of the Turks, and enlarged upon her charms,\ntill the king's heart was taken with her and he said to them, 'We\nwill send one to demand her in marriage for us; but who shall be\nour messenger?' Quoth the viziers, 'There is none for this\nbusiness but Abou Temam, by reason of his wit and good breeding;'\nand the king said, 'Indeed, even as ye say, none is fitting for\nthis affair but he.' Then he turned to Abou Temam and said to\nhim, 'Wilt thou not go with my message and seek me [in marriage]\nthe king's daughter of the Turks?' and he answered, 'Hearkening\nand obedience, O king.'\n\nSo they made ready his affair and the king conferred on him a\ndress of honour, and he took with him a present and a letter\nunder the king's hand and setting out, fared on till he came to\nthe [capital] city of Turkestan. When the king of the Turks knew\nof his coming, he despatched his officers to receive him and\nentreated him with honour and lodged him as befitted his rank.\nThen he entertained him three days, after which he summoned him\nto his presence and Abou Temam went in to him and prostrating\nhimself before him, as beseemeth unto kings, laid the present\nbefore him and gave him the letter.\n\nThe king read the letter and said to Abou Temam, \"We will do what\nbehoveth in the matter; but, O Abou Temam, needs must thou see my\ndaughter and she thee, and needs must thou hear her speech and\nshe thine.' So saying, he sent him to the lodging of the\nprincess, who had had notice of this; so that they had adorned\nher sitting-chamber with the costliest that might be of utensils\nof gold and silver and the like, and she seated herself on a\nthrone of gold, clad in the most sumptuous of royal robes and\nornaments. When Abou Temam entered, he bethought himself and\nsaid, 'The wise say, he who restraineth his sight shall suffer no\nevil and he who guardeth his tongue shall hear nought of foul,\nand he who keepeth watch over his hand, it shall be prolonged and\nnot curtailed.'[FN#121] So he entered and seating himself on the\nground, [cast down his eyes and] covered his hands and feet with\nhis dress.[FN#122] Quoth the king's daughter to him, 'Lift thy\nhead, O Abou Temam, and look on me and speak with me.' But he\nspoke not neither raised his head, and she continued, 'They sent\nthee but that thou mightest look on me and speak with me, and\nbehold, thou speakest not at all. Take of these pearls that be\naround thee and of these jewels and gold and silver. But he put\nnot forth his hand unto aught, and when she saw that he paid no\nheed to anything, she was angry and said, 'They have sent me a\nmessenger, blind, dumb and deaf.'\n\nThen she sent to acquaint her father with this; whereupon the\nking called Abou Temam to him and said to him, 'Thou camest not\nbut to see my daughter. Why, then, hast thou not looked upon\nher?' Quoth Abou Temam, 'I saw everything.' And the king said,\n'Why didst thou not take somewhat of that which thou sawest of\njewels and the like? For they were set for thee.' But he\nanswered, 'It behoveth me not to put out my hand to aught that is\nnot mine.' When the king heard his speech, he gave him a\nsumptuous dress of honour and loved him exceedingly and said to\nhim, 'Come, look at this pit.' So Abou Temam went up [to the\nmouth of the pit] and looked, and behold, it was full of heads of\nmen; and the king said to him, 'These are the heads of\nambassadors, whom I slew, for that I saw them without loyalty to\ntheir masters, and I was used, whenas I saw an ambassador without\nbreeding, [FN#123] to say, \"He who sent him is less of breeding\nthan he, for that the messenger is the tongue of him who sendeth\nhim and his breeding is of his master's breeding; and whoso is on\nthis wise, it befitteth not that he be akin to me.\"[FN#124] So,\nbecause of this, I used to put the messengers to death; but, as\nfor thee, thou hast overcome us and won my daughter, of the\nexcellence of thy breeding; so be of good heart, for she is thy\nmaster's.' Then he sent him back to king Ilan Shah with presents\nand rarities and a letter, saying, 'This that I have done is in\nhonour of thee and of thine ambassador.'\n\nWhen Abou Temam returned with [news of] the accomplishment of his\nerrand and brought the presents and the letter, King Ilan Shah\nrejoiced in this and redoubled in showing him honour and made\nmuch of him. Some days thereafterward, the king of Turkestan sent\nhis daughter and she went in to King Ilan Shah, who rejoiced in\nher with an exceeding joy and Abou Temam's worth was exalted in\nhis sight. When the viziers saw this, they redoubled in envy and\ndespite and said, 'An we contrive us not a device to rid us of\nthis man, we shall perish of rage.' So they bethought them [and\nagreed upon] a device they should practise.\n\nThen they betook themselves to two boys affected to the [special]\nservice of the king, who slept not but on their knee,[FN#125] and\nthey lay at his head, for that they were his pages of the\nchamber, and gave them each a thousand dinars of gold, saying,\n'We desire of you that ye do somewhat for us and take this gold\nas a provision against your occasion.' Quoth the boys, 'What is\nit ye would have us do?' And the viziers answered, 'This Abou\nTemam hath marred our affairs for us, and if his case abide on\nthis wise, he will estrange us all from the king's favour; and\nwhat we desire of you is that, when ye are alone with the king\nand he leaneth back, as he were asleep, one of you say to his\nfellow, \"Verily, the king hath taken Abou Temam into his especial\nfavour and hath advanced him to high rank with him, yet is he a\ntransgressor against the king's honour and an accursed one.\" Then\nlet the other of you ask, \"And what is his transgression?\" And\nthe first make answer, \"He outrageth the king's honour and saith,\n'The King of Turkestan was used, whenas one went to him to seek\nhis daughter in marriage, to slay him; but me he spared, for that\nshe took a liking to me, and by reason of this he sent her\nhither, because she loved me.'\" Then let his fellow say, \"Knowest\nthou this for truth?\" And the other reply, \"By Allah, this is\nwell known unto all the folk, but, of their fear of the king,\nthey dare not bespeak him thereof; and as often as the king is\nabsent a-hunting or on a journey, Abou Temam comes to her and is\nprivate with her.\"' And the boys answered, 'We will say this.'\n\nAccordingly, one night, when they were alone with the king and he\nleant back, as he were asleep, they said these words and the king\nheard it all and was like to die of rage and said in himself,\n'These are young boys, not come to years of discretion, and have\nno intrigue with any; and except they had heard these words from\nsome one, they had not spoken with each other thereof.' When it\nwas morning, wrath overmastered him, so that he stayed not\nneither deliberated, but summoned Abou Temam and taking him\napart, said to him, 'Whoso guardeth not his lord's\nhonour,[FN#126] what behoveth unto him?' Quoth Abou Temam, 'It\nbehoveth that his lord guard not his honour.' 'And whoso entereth\nthe king's house and playeth the traitor with him,' continued the\nking, 'what behoveth unto him?' And Abou Temam answered, 'He\nshall not be left on life.' Whereupon the king spat in his face\nand said to him, 'Both these things hast thou done.' Then he drew\nhis dagger on him in haste and smiting him in the belly, slit it\nand he died forthright; whereupon the king dragged him to a well\nthat was in his palace and cast him therein.\n\nAfter he had slain him, he fell into repentance and mourning and\nchagrin waxed upon him, and none, who questioned him, would he\nacquaint with the cause thereof, nor, of his love for his wife,\ndid he tell her of this, and whenas she asked him of [the cause\nof] his grief, he answered her not. When the viziers knew of Abou\nTemam's death, they rejoiced with an exceeding joy and knew that\nthe king's grief arose from regret for him. As for Ilan Shah, he\nused, after this, to betake himself by night to the\nsleeping-chamber of the two boys and spy upon them, so he might\nhear what they said concerning his wife. As he stood one night\nprivily at the door of their chamber, he saw them spread out the\ngold before them and play with it and heard one of them say, 'Out\non us! What doth this gold profit us? For that we cannot buy\naught therewith neither spend it upon ourselves. Nay, but we have\nsinned against Abou Temam and done him to death unjustly.' And\nthe other answered, 'Had we known that the king would presently\nkill him, we had not done what we did.'\n\nWhen the king heard this, he could not contain himself, but\nrushed in upon them and said to them, 'Out on you! What did ye?\nTell me.' And they said, 'Pardon, O king.' Quoth he, 'An ye would\nhave pardon from God and me, it behoveth you to tell me the\ntruth, for nothing shall save you from me but truth-speaking.' So\nthey prostrated themselves before him and said, 'By Allah, O\nking, the viziers gave us this gold and taught us to lie against\nAbou Teman, so thou mightest put him to death, and what we said\nwas their words.' When the king heard this, he plucked at his\nbeard, till he was like to tear it up by the roots and bit upon\nhis fingers, till he well-nigh sundered them in twain, for\nrepentance and sorrow that he had wrought hastily and had not\ndelayed with Abou Temam, so he might look into his affair.\n\nThen he sent for the viziers and said to them, 'O wicked viziers,\nye thought that God was heedless of your deed, but your\nwickedness shall revert upon you. Know ye not that whoso diggeth\na pit for his brother shall fall into it? Take from me the\npunishment of this world and to-morrow ye shall get the\npunishment of the world to come and requital from God.' Then he\nbade put them to death; so [the headsman] smote off their heads\nbefore the king, and he went in to his wife and acquainted her\nwith that wherein he had transgressed against Abou Temam;\nwhereupon she grieved for him with an exceeding grief and the\nking and the people of his household left not weeping and\nrepenting all their lives. Moreover, they brought Abou Temam\nforth of the well and the king built him a dome[FN#127] in his\npalace and buried him therein.\n\nSee, then, O august king,\" continued the youth, \"what envy doth\nand injustice and how God caused the viziers' malice revert upon\ntheir own necks; and I trust in God that He will succour me\nagainst all who envy me my favour with the king and show forth\nthe truth unto him. Indeed, I fear not for my life from death;\nonly I fear lest the king repent of my slaughter, for that I am\nguiltless of offence, and if I knew that I were guilty of aught,\nmy tongue would be mute.\"\n\nWhen the king heard this, he bowed [his head] in perplexity and\nconfusion and said, \"Carry him back to the prison till the\nmorrow, so we may look into his affair.\"\n\n                         The Ninth Day\n\n\n\n           OF DESTINY OR THAT WHICH IS WRITTEN ON THE\n                           FOREHEAD.\n\n\n\nWhen it was the ninth day, the viziers [foregathered and] said,\none to another, \"Verily, this youth baffleth us, for as often as\nthe king is minded to put him to death, he beguileth him and\nensorcelleth him with a story; so what deem ye we should do, that\nwe may slay him and be at rest from him?\" Then they took counsel\ntogether and were of accord that they should go to the king's\nwife [and prompt her to urge the king to slaughter the youth. So\nthey betook themselves to her] and said to her, \"Thou art\nheedless of this affair wherein thou art and this heedlessness\nwill not profit thee; whilst the king is occupied with eating and\ndrinking and diversion and forgetteth that the folk beat upon\ntabrets and sing of thee and say, 'The king's wife loveth the\nyouth;' and what while he abideth on life, the talk will increase\nand not diminish.\" Quoth she, \"By Allah, it was ye set me on\nagainst him, and what shall I do [now]?\" And they answered, \"Do\nthou go in to the king and weep and say to him, 'Verily, the\nwomen come to me and tell me that I am become a byword in the\ncity, and what is thine advantage in the sparing of this youth?\nIf thou wilt not slay him, slay me, so this talk may be estopped\nfrom us.'\"\n\nSo she arose and tearing her clothes, went in to the king, in the\npresence of the viziers, and cast herself upon him, saying, \"O\nking, falleth my shame not upon thee and fearest thou not\nreproach? Indeed, this is not of the behoof of kings that their\njealousy over their women should be thus [laggard]. Thou art\nheedless and all the folk of the realm prate of thee, men and\nwomen. So either slay him, that the talk may be cut off, or slay\nme, if thy soul will not consent to his slaughter.\" Thereupon the\nking's wrath waxed hot and he said to her, \"I have no pleasure in\nhis continuance [on life] and needs must I slay him this day. So\nreturn to thy house and comfort thy heart.\"\n\nThen he bade fetch the youth; so they brought him before him and\nthe viziers said, \"O base of origin, out on thee! Thy term is at\nhand and the earth hungereth for thy body, so it may devour it.\"\nBut he answered them, saying, \"Death is not in your word nor in\nyour envy; nay, it is an ordinance written upon the forehead;\nwherefore, if aught be written upon my forehead, needs must it\ncome to pass, and neither endeavour nor thought-taking nor\nprecaution will deliver me therefrom; [but it will surely happen]\neven as happened to King Ibrahim and his son.\" Quoth the king,\n\"Who was King Ibrahim and who was his son?\" And the youth said,\n\"O king,\n\n\n\n\n\n               STORY OF KING IBRAHIM AND HIS SON.\n\n\n\nThere was once a king of the kings, by name Ibrahim, to whom the\nkings abased themselves and did obedience; but he had no son and\nwas straitened of breast because of this, fearing lest the\nkingship go forth of his hand. He ceased not vehemently to desire\na son and to buy slave-girls and lie with them, till one of them\nconceived, whereat he rejoiced with an exceeding joy and gave\ngifts and largesse galore. When the girl's months were\naccomplished and the season of her delivery drew near, the king\nsummoned the astrologers and they watched for the hour of her\nchild-bearing and raised astrolabes [towards the sun] and took\nstrait note of the time. The damsel gave birth to a male child,\nwhereat the king rejoiced with an exceeding joy, and the people\nheartened each other with the glad news of this.\n\nThen the astrologers made their calculations and looked into his\nnativity and his ascendant, whereupon their colour changed and\nthey were confounded. Quoth the king to them, 'Acquaint me with\nhis horoscope and ye shall have assurance and fear ye not of\naught' 'O king,' answered they, 'this child's nativity denotes\nthat, in the seventh year of his age, there is to be feared for\nhim from a lion, which will attack him; and if he be saved from\nthe lion, there will betide an affair yet sorer and more\ngrievous.' 'What is that?' asked the king; and they said, 'We\nwill not speak, except the king command us thereto and give us\nassurance from [that which we] fear.' Quoth the king, 'God assure\nyou!' And they said, 'If he be saved from the lion, the king's\ndestruction will be at his hand.' When the king heard this, his\ncolour changed and his breast was straitened; but he said in\nhimself, 'I will be watchful and do my endeavour and suffer not\nthe lion to eat him. It cannot be that he will kill me, and\nindeed the astrologers lied.'\n\nThen he caused rear him among the nurses and matrons; but withal\nhe ceased not to ponder the saying of the astrologers and indeed\nhis life was troubled. So he betook himself to the top of a high\nmountain and dug there a deep pit and made in it many\ndwelling-places and closets and filled it with all that was\nneedful of victual and raiment and what not else and made in it\nconduits of water from the mountain and lodged the boy therein,\nwith a nurse who should rear him. Moreover, at the first of each\nmonth he used to go to the mountain and stand at the mouth of the\npit and let down a rope he had with him and draw up the boy to\nhim and strain him to his bosom and kiss him and play with him\nawhile, after which he would let him down again into the pit to\nhis place and return; and he used to count the days till the\nseven years should pass by.\n\nWhen came the time [of the accomplishment] of the foreordered\nfate and the fortune graven on the forehead and there abode for\nthe boy but ten days till the seven years should be complete,\nthere came to the mountain hunters hunting wild beasts and seeing\na lion, gave chase to him. He fled from them and seeking refuge\nin the mountain, fell into the pit in its midst. The nurse saw\nhim forthright and fled from him into one of the closets;\nwhereupon the lion made for the boy and seizing upon him, tore\nhis shoulder, after which he sought the closet wherein was the\nnurse and falling upon her, devoured her, whilst the boy abode\ncast down in a swoon. Meanwhile, when the hunters saw that the\nlion had fallen into the pit, they came to the mouth thereof and\nheard the shrieking of the boy and the woman; and after awhile\nthe cries ceased, whereby they knew that the lion had made an end\nof them.\n\nPresently, as they stood by the mouth of the pit, the lion came\nscrambling up the sides and would have issued forth; but, as\noften as he showed his head, they pelted him with stones, till\nthey beat him down and he fell; whereupon one of the hunters\ndescended into the pit and despatched him and saw the boy\nwounded; after which he went to the cabinet, where he found the\nwoman dead, and indeed the lion had eaten his fill of her. Then\nhe noted that which was therein of clothes and what not else, and\nadvising his fellows thereof, fell to passing the stuff up to\nthem. Moreover, he took up the boy and bringing him forth of the\npit, carried him to their dwelling-place, where they dressed his\nwounds and he grew up with them, but acquainted them not with his\naffair; and indeed, when they questioned him, he knew not what he\nshould say, for that he was little, when they let him down into\nthe pit. The hunters marvelled at his speech and loved him with\nan exceeding love and one of them took him to son and abode\nrearing him with him [and instructing him] in hunting and riding\non horseback, till he attained the age of twelve and became a\nchampion, going forth with the folk to the chase and to the\nstopping of the way.\n\nIt chanced one day that they sallied forth to stop the way and\nfell in upon a caravan in the night; but the people of the\ncaravan were on their guard; so they joined battle with the\nrobbers and overcame them and slew them and the boy fell wounded\nand abode cast down in that place till the morrow, when he opened\nhis eyes and finding his comrades slain, lifted himself up and\nrose to walk in the way. Presently, there met him a man, a\ntreasure-seeker, and said to him, 'Whither goest thou, O youth?'\nSo he told him what had betided him and the other said, 'Be of\ngood heart, for that [the season of] thy fair fortune is come and\nGod bringeth thee joy and solace. I am one who am in quest of a\nhidden treasure, wherein is vast wealth. So come with me, that\nthou mayst help me, and I will give thee wealth, wherewith thou\nshalt provide thyself thy life long.' Then he carried the youth\nto his dwelling and dressed his wound, and he abode with him some\ndays, till he was rested; when he took him and two beasts and all\nthat he needed, and they fared on till they came to a precipitous\nmountain.\n\nHere the treasure-seeker brought out a book and reading therein,\ndug in the crest of the mountain five cubits deep, whereupon\nthere appeared to him a stone. He pulled it up and behold, it was\na trap-door covering the mouth of a pit. So he waited till the\n[foul] air was come forth from the midst of the pit, when he\nbound a rope about the boy's middle and let him down to the\nbottom, and with him a lighted flambeau. The boy looked and\nbeheld, at the upper end of the pit, wealth galore; so the\ntreasure-seeker let down a rope and a basket and the boy fell to\nfilling and the man to drawing up, till the latter had gotten his\nsufficiency, when he loaded his beasts and did his occasion,\nwhilst the boy looked for him to let down to him the rope and\ndraw him up; but he rolled a great stone to the mouth of the pit\nand went away.\n\nWhen the boy saw what the treasure-seeker had done with him he\ncommitted his affair to God (extolled be His perfection and\nexalted be He!) and abode perplexed concerning his case and said,\n'How bitter is this death!' For that indeed the world was\ndarkened on him and the pit was blinded to him. So he fell\na-weeping and saying, 'I was delivered from the lion and the\nthieves and now is my death [appointed to be] in this pit, where\nI shall die lingeringly.' And he abode confounded and looked for\nnothing but death. As he pondered [his affair], behold, he heard\na sound of water running with a mighty noise; so he arose and\nwalked in the pit, following after the sound, till he came to a\ncorner and heard the mighty running of water. So he laid his ear\nto the sound of the current and hearing it a great strength, said\nin himself, 'This is the running of a mighty water and needs must\nI die in this place, be it to-day or to-morrow; so I will cast\nmyself into the water and not die a lingering death in this pit.'\n\nThen he braced up his courage and gathering his skirts about him,\nthrew himself into the water, and it bore him along with an\nexceeding might and carrying him under the earth, stayed not till\nit brought him out into a deep valley, wherethrough ran a great\nriver, that welled up from under the earth. When he found himself\non the surface of the earth, he abode perplexed and dazed all\nthat day; after which he came to himself and rising, fared on\nalong the valley, till he came to an inhabited land and a great\nvillage in the dominions of the king his father. So he entered\nthe village and foregathered with its inhabitants, who questioned\nhim of his case; whereupon he related to them his history and\nthey marvelled at him, how God had delivered him from all this.\nThen he took up his abode with them and they loved him\nexceedingly.\n\nTo return to the king his father. When he went to the pit, as of\nhis wont, and called the nurse, she returned him no answer,\nwhereat his breast was straitened and he let down a man who\n[found the nurse dead and the boy gone and] acquainted the king\ntherewith; which when he heard, he buffeted his head and wept\npassing sore and descended into the midst of the pit, so he might\nsee how the case stood. There he found the nurse slain and the\nlion dead, but saw not the boy; so he [returned and] acquainted\nthe astrologers with the verification of their words, and they\nsaid, 'O king, the lion hath eaten him; destiny hath been\naccomplished upon him and thou art delivered from his hand; for,\nhad he been saved from the lion, by Allah, we had feared for thee\nfrom him, for that the king's destruction should have been at his\nhand.' So the king left [sorrowing for] this and the days passed\nby and the affair was forgotten.\n\nMeanwhile, the boy [grew up and] abode with the people of the\nvillage, and when God willed the accomplishment of His ordinance,\nthe which endeavour availeth not to avert, he went forth with a\ncompany of the villagers, to stop the way. The folk complained of\nthem to the king, who sallied out with a company of his men and\nsurrounded the highwaymen and the boy with them, whereupon the\nlatter drew forth an arrow and launched it at them, and it smote\nthe king in his vitals and wounded him. So they carried him to\nhis house, after they had laid hands upon the youth and his\ncompanions and brought them before the king, saying, 'What\nbiddest thou that we do with them?' Quoth he, 'I am presently in\nconcern for myself; so bring me the astrologers.' Accordingly,\nthey brought them before him and He said to them, 'Ye told me\nthat my death should be by slaying at the hand of my son: how,\nthen, befalleth it that I have gotten my death-wound on this wise\nof yonder thieves?' The astrologers marvelled and said to him, 'O\nking, it is not impossible to the lore of the stars, together\nwith the fore-ordinance of God, that he who hath smitten thee\nshould be thy son.'\n\nWhen Ibrahim heard this, he let fetch the thieves and said to\nthem, 'Tell me truly, which of you shot the arrow that wounded\nme.' Quoth they, 'It was this youth that is with us.' Whereupon\nthe king fell to looking upon him and said to him, 'O youth,\nacquaint me with thy case and tell me who was thy father and thou\nshalt have assurance from God.' 'O my lord,' answered the youth,\n'I know no father; as for me, my father lodged me in a pit [when\nI was little], with a nurse to rear me, and one day, there fell\nin upon us a lion, which tore my shoulder, then left me and\noccupied himself with the nurse and rent her in pieces; and God\nvouchsafed me one who brought me forth of the pit.' Then he\nrelated to him all that had befallen him, first and last; which\nwhen Ibrahim heard, he cried out and said, 'By Allah, this is my\nvery son!' And he said to him, 'Uncover thy shoulder.' So he\nuncovered it and behold, it was scarred.\n\nThen the king assembled his nobles and commons and the\nastrologers and said to them, 'Know that what God hath graven\nupon the forehead, be it fair fortune or calamity, none may avail\nto efface, and all that is decreed unto a man he must needs\nabide. Indeed, this my caretaking and my endeavour profited me\nnought, for that which God decreed unto my son, he hath abidden\nand that which He decreed unto me hath betided me. Nevertheless,\nI praise God and thank Him for that this was at my son's hand and\nnot at the hand of another, and praised be He for that the\nkingship is come to my son!' And he strained the youth to his\nbreast and embraced him and kissed him, saying, 'O my son, this\nmatter was on such a wise, and of my care and watchfulness over\nthee from destiny, I lodged thee in that pit; but caretaking\navailed not.' Then he took the crown of the kingship and set it\non his son's head and caused the folk and the people swear fealty\nto him and commended the subjects to his care and enjoined him to\njustice and equity. And he took leave of him that night and died\nand his son reigned in his stead.\n\nOn like wise, O king,\" continued the young treasurer, \"is it with\nthee. If God have written aught on my forehead, needs must it\nbefall me and my speech to the king shall not profit me, no, nor\nmy adducing to him of [illustrative] instances, against the\nfore-ordinance of God. So with these viziers, for all their\neagerness and endeavour for my destruction, this shall not profit\nthem; for, if God [be minded to] save me, He will give me the\nvictory over them.\"\n\nWhen the king heard these words, he abode in perplexity and said,\n\"Restore him to the prison till the morrow, so we may look into\nhis affair, for the day draweth to an end and I mean to put him\nto death on exemplary wise, and [to-morrow] we will do with him\nthat which he meriteth.\"\n\n                         The Tenth Day.\n\n\n\n         OF THE APPOINTED TERM,[FN#128] WHICH, IF IT BE\n           ADVANCED, MAY NOT BE DEFERRED AND IF IT BE\n                 DEFERRED, MAY NOT BE ADVANCED.\n\n\n\nWhen it was the tenth day, (now this day was called El\nMihrjan[FN#129] and it was the day of the coming in of the folk,\ngentle and simple, to the king, so they might give him joy and\nsalute him and go forth), the counsel of the viziers fell of\naccord that they should speak with a company of the notables of\nthe city [and urge them to demand of the king that he should\npresently put the youth to death]. So they said to them, \"When ye\ngo in to-day to the king and salute him, do ye say to him, 'O\nking, (to God be the praise!) thou art praiseworthy of policy and\ngovernance, just to all thy subjects; but this youth, to whom\nthou hast been bountiful, yet hath he reverted to his base origin\nand wrought this foul deed, what is thy purpose in his\ncontinuance [on life]? Indeed, thou hast prisoned him in thy\nhouse, and every day thou hearest his speech and thou knowest not\nwhat the folk say.'\" And they answered with \"Hearkening and\nobedience.\"\n\nSo, when they entered with the folk and had prostrated themselves\nbefore the king and given him joy and he had raised their rank,\n[they sat down]. Now it was the custom of the folk to salute and\ngo forth, so, when they sat down, the king knew that they had a\nword that they would fain say. So he turned to them and said,\n\"Ask your need.\" And the viziers also were present. Accordingly,\nthey bespoke him with all that these latter had taught them and\nthe viziers also spoke with them; and Azadbekht said to them, \"O\nfolk, I know that this your speech, there is no doubt of it,\nproceedeth from love and loyal counsel to me, and ye know that,\nwere I minded to slay half these folk, I could avail to put them\nto death and this would not be difficult to me; so how shall I\nnot slay this youth and he in my power and under the grip of my\nhand? Indeed, his crime is manifest and he hath incurred pain of\ndeath and I have only deferred his slaughter by reason of the\ngreatness of the offence; for, if I do this with him and my proof\nagainst him be strengthened, my heart is healed and the heart of\nthe folk; and if I slay him not to-day, his slaughter shall not\nescape me to-morrow.\"\n\nThen he bade fetch the youth and when he was present before him,\nhe prostrated himself to him and prayed for him; whereupon quoth\nthe king to him, \"Out on thee! How long shall the folk upbraid me\non thine account and blame me for delaying thy slaughter? Even\nthe people of my city blame me because of thee, so that I am\ngrown a talking-stock among them, and indeed they come in to me\nand upbraid me [and urge me] to put thee to death. How long shall\nI delay this? Indeed, this very day I mean to shed thy blood and\nrid the folk of thy prate.\"\n\n\"O king,\" answered the youth, \"if there have betided thee talk\nbecause of me, by Allah, by Allah the Great, those who have\nbrought on thee this talk from the folk are these wicked viziers,\nwho devise with the folk and tell them foul things and evil\nconcerning the king's house; but I trust in God that He will\ncause their malice to revert upon their heads. As for the king's\nmenace of me with slaughter, I am in the grasp of his hand; so\nlet not the king occupy his mind with my slaughter, for that I am\nlike unto the sparrow in the hand of the fowler; if he will, he\nslaughtereth him, and if he will, he looseth him. As for the\ndelaying of my slaughter, it [proceedeth] not [from] the king,\nbut from Him in whose hand is my life; for, by Allah, O king, if\nGod willed my slaughter, thou couldst not avail to postpone it,\nno, not for a single hour. Indeed, man availeth not to fend off\nevil from himself, even as it was with the son of King Suleiman\nShah, whose anxiety and carefulness for the accomplishment of his\ndesire of the new-born child [availed him nothing], for his last\nhour was deferred how many a time! and God saved him until he had\naccomplished his [foreordained] period and had fulfilled [the\ndestined term of] his life.\"\n\n\"Out on thee!\" exclaimed the king. \"How great is thy craft and\nthy talk! Tell me, what was their story.\" And the youth said, \"O\nking,\n\n\n\n\n\n           STORY OF KING SULEIMAN SHAH AND HIS SONS.\n\n\n\nThere was once a king named Suleiman Shah, who was goodly of\npolity and judgment, and he had a brother who died and left a\ndaughter. So Suleiman Shah reared her on the goodliest wise and\nthe girl grew up, endowed with reason and perfection, nor was\nthere in her time a fairer than she. Now the king had two sons,\none of whom he had appointed in himself that he would marry her\nwithal, and the other purposed in himself that he would take her.\nThe elder son's name was Belehwan and that of the younger Melik\nShah, and the girl was called Shah Khatoun.\n\nOne day, King Suleiman Shah went in to his brother's daughter and\nkissing her head, said to her, 'Thou art my daughter and dearer\nto me than a child, for the love of thy father deceased;\nwherefore I am minded to marry thee to one of my sons and appoint\nhim my heir apparent, so he may be king after me. Look, then,\nwhich thou wilt have of my sons, for that thou hast been reared\nwith them and knowest them.' The damsel arose and kissing his\nhand, said to him, 'O my lord, I am thine handmaid and thou art\nthe ruler over me; so whatsoever pleaseth thee, do, for that thy\nwish is higher and more honourable and nobler [than mine] and if\nthou wouldst have me serve thee, [as a handmaid], the rest of my\nlife, it were liefer to me than any [husband].'\n\nThe king approved her speech and bestowed on her a dress of\nhonour and gave her magnificent gifts; after which, for that his\nchoice had fallen upon his younger son, Melik Shah, he married\nher with him and made him his heir apparent and caused the folk\nswear fealty to him. When this came to the knowledge of his\nbrother Belehwan and he was ware that his younger brother had\nbeen preferred over him, his breast was straitened and the affair\nwas grievous to him and envy entered into him and rancour; but he\nconcealed this in his heart, whilst fire raged therein because of\nthe damsel and the kingship.\n\nMeanwhile Shah Khatoun went in to the king's son and conceived by\nhim and bore a son, as he were the resplendent moon. When\nBelehwan saw this that had betided his brother, jealousy and envy\novercame him; so he went in one night to his father's house and\ncoming to his brother's lodging, saw the nurse sleeping at the\nchamber-door, with the cradle before her and therein his\nbrother's child asleep. Belehwan stood by him and fell to looking\nupon his face, the radiance whereof was as that of the moon, and\nSatan insinuated himself into his heart, so that he bethought\nhimself and said, 'Why is not this child mine? Indeed, I am\nworthier of him than my brother, [yea], and of the damsel and the\nkingship.' Then envy got the better of him and anger spurred him,\nso that he took out a knife and setting it to the child's gullet,\ncut his throat and would have severed his windpipe.\n\nSo he left him for dead and entering his brother's chamber, saw\nhim asleep, with the damsel by his side, and thought to slay her,\nbut said in himself, 'I will leave the damsel for myself.' Then\nhe went up to his brother and cutting his throat, severed his\nhead from his body, after which he left him and went away.\nTherewithal the world was straitened upon him and his life was a\nlight matter to him and he sought his father Suleiman Shah's\nlodging, that he might slay him, but could not win to him. So he\nwent forth from the palace and hid himself in the city till the\nmorrow, when he repaired to one of his father's strengths and\nfortified himself therein.\n\nMeanwhile, the nurse awoke, that she might give the child suck,\nand seeing the bed running with blood, cried out; whereupon the\nsleepers and the king awoke and making for the place, found the\nchild with his throat cut and the cradle running over with blood\nand his father slain and dead in his sleeping chamber. So they\nexamined the child and found life in him and his windpipe whole\nand sewed up the place of the wound. Then the king sought his son\nBelehwan, but found him not and saw that he had fled; whereby he\nknew that it was he who had done this deed, and this was grievous\nto the king and to the people of his realm and to the lady Shah\nKatoun. So the king laid out his son Melik Shah and buried him\nand made him a mighty funeral and they mourned passing sore;\nafter which he addressed himself to the rearing of the infant\n\nAs for Belehwan, when he fled and fortified himself, his power\nwaxed amain and there remained for him but to make war upon his\nfather, who had cast his affection upon the child and used to\nrear him on his knees and supplicate God the Most High that he\nmight live, so he might commit the commandment to him. When he\ncame to five years of age, the king mounted him on horseback and\nthe people of the city rejoiced in him and invoked on him length\nof life, so he might take his father's leavings[FN#130] and\n[heal] the heart of his grandfather.\n\nMeanwhile, Belehwan the froward addressed himself to pay court to\nCaesar, King of the Greeks,[FN#131] and seek help of him in\nmaking war upon his father, and he inclined unto him and gave him\na numerous army. His father the king heard of this and sent to\nCaesar, saying, 'O king of illustrious might, succour not an\nevil-doer. This is my son and he hath done thus and thus and cut\nhis brother's throat and that of his brother's son in the\ncradle.' But he told not the King of the Greeks that the child\n[had recovered and] was alive. When Caesar heard [the truth] of\nthe matter, it was grievous to him and he sent back to Suleiman\nShah, saying, 'If it be thy will, O king, I will cut off his head\nand send it to thee.' But he made answer, saying, 'I reck not of\nhim: the reward of his deed and his crimes shall surely overtake\nhim, if not to-day, then to-morrow.' And from that day he\ncontinued to correspond with Caesar and to exchange letters and\npresents with him.\n\nNow the king of the Greeks heard tell of the damsel[FN#132] and\nof the beauty and grace wherewith she was gifted, wherefore his\nheart clave to her and he sent to seek her in marriage of\nSuleiman Shah, who could not refuse him. So he arose and going in\nto Shah Khatoun, said to her, 'O my daughter, the king of the\nGreeks hath sent to me to seek thee in marriage. What sayst\nthou?' She wept and answered, saying, 'O king, how canst thou\nfind it in thy heart to bespeak me thus? Abideth there husband\nfor me, after the son of my uncle?' 'O my daughter,' rejoined the\nking, 'it is indeed as thou sayest; but let us look to the issues\nof affairs. Needs must I take account of death, for that I am an\nold man and fear not but for thee and for thy little son; and\nindeed I have written to the king of the Greeks and others of the\nkings and said, \"His uncle slew him,\" and said not that he [hath\nrecovered and] is living, but concealed his affair. Now hath the\nking of the Greeks sent to demand thee in marriage, and this is\nno thing to be refused and fain would we have our back\nstrengthened with him.\"[FN#133] And she was silent and spoke not.\n\nSo King Suleiman Shah made answer unto Caesar with 'Hearkening\nand obedience.' Then he arose and despatched her to him, and\nCassar went in to her and found her overpassing the description\nwherewithal they had described her to him; wherefore he loved her\nwith an exceeding love and preferred her over all his women and\nhis love for Suleiman Shah was magnified; but Shah Khatoun's\nheart still clave to her son and she could say nought. As for\nSuleiman Shah's rebellious son, Belehwan, when he saw that Shah\nKhatoun had married the king of the Greeks, this was grievous to\nhim and he despaired of her. Meanwhile, his father Suleiman Shah\nkept strait watch over the child and cherished him and named him\nMelik Shah, after the name of his father. When he reached the age\nof ten, he made the folk swear fealty to him and appointed him\nhis heir apparent, and after some days, [the hour of] the old\nking's admission [to the mercy of God] drew near and he died.\n\nNow a party of the troops had banded themselves together for\nBelehwan; so they sent to him and bringing him privily, went in\nto the little Melik Shah and seized him and seated his uncle\nBelehwan on the throne of the kingship. Then they proclaimed him\nking and did homage to him all, saying, 'Verily, we desire thee\nand deliver to thee the throne of the kingship; but we wish of\nthee that thou slay not thy brother's son, for that on our\nconsciences are the oaths we swore to his father and grandfather\nand the covenants we made with them.' So Belehwan granted them\nthis and imprisoned the boy in an underground dungeon and\nstraitened him. Presently, the heavy news reached his mother and\nthis was grievous to her; but she could not speak and committed\nher affair to God the Most High, daring not name this to King\nCaesar her husband, lest she should make her uncle King Suleiman\nShah a liar.\n\nSo Belehwan the froward abode king in his father's room and his\naffairs prospered, what while the young Melik Shah lay in the\nunderground dungeon four full-told years, till his charms faded\nand his favour changed. When God (extolled be His perfection and\nexalted be He!) willed to relieve him and bring him forth of the\nprison, Belehwan sat one day with his chief officers and the\ngrandees of his state and discoursed with them of the story of\nKing Suleiman Shah and what was in his heart. Now there were\npresent certain viziers, men of worth, and they said to him, 'O\nking, verily God hath been bountiful unto thee and hath brought\nthee to thy wish, so that thou art become king in thy father's\nstead and hast gotten thee that which thou soughtest. But, as for\nthis boy, there is no guilt in him, for that, from the day of his\ncoming into the world, he hath seen neither ease nor joyance, and\nindeed his favour is faded and his charms changed [with long\nprison]. What is his offence that he should merit this\npunishment? Indeed, it is others than he who were to blame, and\nGod hath given thee the victory over them, and there is no fault\nin this poor wight.' Quoth Belehwan, 'Indeed, it is as ye say;\nbut I am fearful of his craft and am not assured from his\nmischief; belike the most part of the folk will incline unto\nhim.' 'O king,' answered they, 'what is this boy and what power\nhath he? If thou fear him, send him to one of the frontiers.' And\nBelehwan said, 'Ye say sooth: we will send him to be captain over\nsuch an one of the marches.'\n\nNow over against the place in question was a host of enemies,\nhard of heart, and in this he purposed the youth's slaughter. So\nhe bade bring him forth of the underground dungeon and caused him\ndraw near to him and saw his case. Then he bestowed on him a\ndress of honour and the folk rejoiced in this. Moreover, he tied\nhim an ensign[FN#134] and giving him a numerous army, despatched\nhim to the region aforesaid, whither all who went were still\nslain or made prisoners. So Melik Shah betook himself thither\nwith his army and when it was one of the days, behold, the enemy\nfell in upon them in the night; whereupon some of his men fled\nand the rest the enemy took; and they took Melik Shah also and\ncast him into an underground dungeon, with a company of his men.\nThere he abode a whole year in evil plight, whilst his fellows\nmourned over his beauty and grace.\n\nNow it was the enemy's wont, at every year's end, to bring forth\ntheir prisoners and cast them down from the top of the citadel to\nthe bottom. So they brought them forth, at the end of the year,\nand cast them down, and Melik Shah with them. However, he fell\nupon the [other] men and the earth touched him not, for his term\nwas [God-]guarded. Now those that were cast down there were slain\nand their bodies ceased not to lie there till the wild beasts ate\nthem and the winds dispersed them. Melik Shah abode cast down in\nhis place, aswoon, all that day and night, and when he recovered\nand found himself whole, he thanked God the Most High for his\nsafety [and rising, fared on at a venture]. He gave not over\nwalking, unknowing whither he went and feeding upon the leaves of\nthe trees; and by day he hid himself whereas he might and fared\non all his night at hazard; and thus he did some days, till he\ncame to an inhabited land and seeing folk there, accosted them\nand acquainted them with his case, giving them to know that he\nhad been imprisoned in the fortress and that they had cast him\ndown, but God the Most High had delivered him and brought him off\nalive.\n\nThe folk took compassion on him and gave him to eat and drink and\nhe abode with them awhile. Then he questioned them of the way\nthat led to the kingdom of his uncle Belehwan, but told them not\nthat he was his uncle. So they taught him the way and he ceased\nnot to go barefoot, till he drew near his uncle's capital, and he\nnaked and hungry, and indeed his body was wasted and his colour\nchanged. He sat down at the gate of the city, and presently up\ncame a company of King Belehwan's chief officers, who were out\na-hunting and wished to water their horses. So they lighted down\nto rest and the youth accosted them, saying, 'I will ask you of\nsomewhat, wherewith do ye acquaint me.' Quoth they, 'Ask what\nthou wilt.' And he said, 'Is King Belehwan well?' They laughed at\nhim and answered, 'What a fool art thou, O youth! Thou art a\nstranger and a beggar, and what concern hast thou with the king's\nhealth?' Quoth he, 'Indeed, he is my uncle;' whereat they\nmarvelled and said, 'It was one question[FN#135] and now it is\nbecome two.' Then said they to him, 'O youth, it is as thou wert\nmad. Whence pretendest thou to kinship with the king? Indeed, we\nknow not that he hath aught of kinsfolk, except a brother's son,\nwho was prisoned with him, and he despatched him to wage war upon\nthe infidels, so that they slew him.' 'I am he,' answered Melik\nShah, 'and they slew me not, but there betided me this and that.'\n\nThey knew him forthright and rising to him, kissed his hands and\nrejoiced in him and said to him, 'O our lord, in good sooth, thou\nart a king and the son of a king, and we desire thee nought but\ngood and beseech [God to grant] thee continuance. Consider how\nGod hath rescued thee from this thy wicked uncle, who sent thee\nto a place whence none came ever off alive, purposing not in this\nbut thy destruction; and indeed thou fellest into [peril of]\ndeath and God delivered thee therefrom. So how wilt thou return\nand cast thyself again into thine enemy's hand? By Allah, save\nthyself and return not to him again. Belike thou shall abide upon\nthe face of the earth till it please God the Most High [to\nvouchsafe thee relief]; but, if thou fall again into his hand, he\nwill not suffer thee live a single hour.'\n\nThe prince thanked them and said to them, 'God requite you with\nall good, for indeed ye give me loyal counsel; but whither would\nye have me go?' Quoth they, 'Get thee to the land of the Greeks,\nthe abiding-place of thy mother.' And he said, 'My grandfather\nSuleiman Shah, when the King of the Greeks wrote to him,\ndemanding my mother in marriage, concealed my affair and hid my\nsecret; [and she hath done the like,] and I cannot make her a\nliar.' 'Thou sayst sooth,' rejoined they; 'but we desire thine\nadvantage, and even if thou tookest service with the folk, it\nwere a means of thy continuance [on life].' Then each of them\nbrought out to him money and gave to him and clad him and fed him\nand fared on with him a parasang's distance till they brought him\nfar from the city, and giving him to know that he was safe,\ndeparted from him, whilst he fared on till he came forth of the\ndominions of his uncle and entered those [of the king] of the\nGreeks. Then he entered a village and taking up his abode\ntherein, betook himself to serving one there in ploughing and\nsowing and the like.\n\nAs for his mother, Shah Khatoun, great was her longing for her\nson and she [still] thought of him and news of him was cut off\nfrom her, wherefore her life was troubled and she forswore sleep\nand could not make mention of him before King Caesar her husband.\nNow she had an eunuch who had come with her from the court of her\nuncle King Suleiman Shah, and he was intelligent, quickwitted, a\nman of good counsel. So she took him apart one day and said to\nhim, 'Thou hast been my servant from my childhood to this day;\ncanst thou not therefore avail to get me news of my son, for that\nI cannot speak of his matter?' 'O my lady,' answered he, 'this is\nan affair that thou hast concealed from the first, and were thy\nson here, it would not be possible for thee to harbour him, lest\nthine honour fall into suspicion with the king; for they would\nnever credit thee, since the news hath been spread abroad that\nthy son was slain by his uncle.' Quoth she, 'The case is even as\nthou sayst and thou speakest truly; but, provided I know that my\nson is alive, let him be in these parts pasturing sheep and let\nme not see him nor he me.' And he said to her, 'How shall we\ncontrive in this affair?' 'Here are my treasures and my wealth,'\nanswered she. 'Take all thou wilt and bring me my son or else\nnews of him.'\n\nThen they agreed upon a device between them, to wit, that they\nshould feign an occasion in their own country, under pretext that\nshe had there wealth buried from the time of her husband Melik\nShah and that none knew of it but this eunuch who was with her,\nwherefore it behoved that he should go and fetch it. So she\nacquainted the king her husband with this and sought of him leave\nfor the eunuch to go: and the king granted him permission for the\njourney and charged him cast about for a device, lest any get\nwind of him. Accordingly, the eunuch disguised himself as a\nmerchant and repairing to Belehwan's city, began to enquire\nconcerning the youth's case; whereupon they told him that he had\nbeen prisoned in an underground dungeon and that his uncle had\nreleased him and dispatched him to such a place, where they had\nslain him. When the eunuch heard this, it was grievous to him and\nhis breast was straitened and he knew not what he should do.\n\nIt chanced one day that one of the horsemen, who had fallen in\nwith the young Melik Shah by the water and clad him and given him\nspending-money, saw the eunuch in the city, disguised as a\nmerchant, and recognizing him, questioned him of his case and of\n[the reason of] his coming. Quoth he, 'I come to sell\nmerchandise.' And the horseman said, 'I will tell thee somewhat,\nif thou canst keep it secret.' 'It is well,' answered the eunuch;\n'what is it?' And the other said, 'We met the king's son Melik\nShah, I and certain of the Arabs who were with me, and saw him by\nsuch a water and gave him spending-money and sent him towards the\nland of the Greeks, near his mother, for that we feared for him,\nlest his uncle Belehwan should kill him.' Then he told him all\nthat had passed between them, whereupon the eunuch's countenance\nchanged and he said to the cavalier, 'Assurance!' 'Thou shalt\nhave assurance,' answered the other, 'though thou come in quest\nof him.' And the eunuch rejoined, saying, 'Truly, that is my\nerrand, for there abideth no repose for his mother, lying down or\nrising up, and she hath sent me to seek news of him.' Quoth the\ncavalier, 'Go in safety, for he is in a [certain] part of the\nland of the Greeks, even as I said to thee.'\n\nThe eunuch thanked him and blessed him and mounting, returned\nupon his way, following the trace, whilst the cavalier rode with\nhim to a certain road, when he said to him, 'This is where we\nleft him.' Then he took leave of him and returned to his own\ncity, whilst the eunuch fared on along the road, enquiring of the\nyouth in every village he entered by the description which the\ncavalier had given him, and he ceased not to do thus till he came\nto the village where the young Melik Shah was. So he entered and\nlighting down therein, made enquiry after the prince, but none\ngave him news of him; whereat he abode perplexed concerning his\naffair and addressed himself to depart. Accordingly he mounted\nhis horse [and set out homeward]; but, as he passed through the\nvillage, he saw a cow bound with a rope and a youth asleep by her\nside, with the end of the halter in his hand; so he looked at him\nand passed on and took no heed of him in his heart; but presently\nhe stopped and said in himself; 'If he of whom I am in quest be\ncome to the like [of the condition] of yonder sleeping youth, by\nwhom I passed but now, how shall I know him? Alas, the length of\nmy travail and weariness! How shall I go about in quest of a\nwight whom I know not and whom, if I saw him face to face, I\nshould not know?'\n\nThen he turned back, pondering upon that sleeping youth, and\ncoming to him, as he slept, lighted down from his horse and sat\ndown by him. He fixed his eyes upon his face and considered him\nawhile and said in himself, 'For aught I know, this youth may be\nMelik Shah.' And he fell a-hemming and saying, 'Harkye, O youth!'\nWhereupon the sleeper awoke and sat up; and the eunuch said to\nhim, 'Who is thy father in this village and where is thy\ndwelling?' The youth sighed and answered, 'I am a stranger;' and\nthe eunuch said, 'From what land art thou and who is thy father?'\nQuoth the other, 'I am from such a land,' and the eunuch ceased\nnot to question him and he to answer him, till he was certified\nof him and knew him. So he rose and embraced him and kissed him\nand wept over his case. Moreover, he told him that he was going\nabout in quest of him and informed him that he was come privily\nfrom the king his mother's husband and that his mother would be\ncontent [to know] that he was alive and well, though she saw him\nnot.\n\nThen he re-entered the village and buying the prince a horse,\nmounted him thereon and they ceased not going, till they came to\nthe frontier of their own country, where there fell robbers upon\nthem by the way and took all that was with them and pinioned\nthem; after which they cast them into a pit hard by the road and\nwent away and left them to die there, and indeed they had cast\nmany folk into that pit and they had died.\n\nThe eunuch fell a-weeping in the pit and the youth said to him,\n'What is this weeping and what shall it profit here?' Quoth the\neunuch, 'I weep not for fear of death, but of pity for thee and\nthe sorriness of thy case and because of thy mother's heart and\nfor that which thou hast suffered of horrors and that thy death\nshould be this abject death, after the endurance of all manner\nstresses.' But the youth said, 'That which hath betided me was\nforewrit to me and that which is written none hath power to\nefface; and if my term be advanced, none may avail to defer\nit.'[FN#136] Then they passed that night and the following day\nand the next night and the next day [in the pit], till they were\nweak with hunger and came near upon death and could but groan\nfeebly.\n\nNow it befell, by the ordinance of God the Most High and His\nprovidence, that Caesar, king of the Greeks, the husband of Melik\nShah's mother Shah Khatoun, [went forth to the chase that day].\nHe started a head of game, he and his company, and chased it,\ntill they came up with it by that pit, whereupon one of them\nlighted down from his horse, to slaughter it, hard by the mouth\nof the pit. He heard a sound of low moaning from the bottom of\nthe pit} so he arose and mounting his horse, waited till the\ntroops were assembled. Then he acquainted the king with this and\nhe bade one of his servants [descend into the pit]. So the man\ndescended and brought out the youth [and the eunuch], aswoon.\n\nThey cut their bonds and poured wine into their gullets, till\nthey came to themselves, when the king looked at the eunuch and\nrecognizing him, said, 'Harkye, such an one!' 'Yes, O my lord the\nking,' replied the man and prostrated himself to him; whereat the\nking marvelled with an exceeding wonder and said to him, 'How\nearnest thou to this place and what hath befallen thee?\" Quoth\nthe eunuch, 'I went and took out the treasure and brought it\nhither; but the [evil] eye was behind me and I unknowing. So the\nthieves took us alone here and seized the money and cast us into\nthis pit, so we might die of hunger, even as they had done with\nother than we; but God the Most High sent thee, in pity to us.'\n\nThe king marvelled, he and his company, and praised God the Most\nHigh for that he had come thither; after which he turned to the\neunuch and said to him, 'What is this youth thou hast with thee?'\n'O king,' answered he, 'this is the son of a nurse who belonged\nto us and we left him little. I saw him to-day and his mother\nsaid to me, 'Take him with thee.' So I brought him with me, that\nhe might be a servant to the king, for that he is an adroit and\nquickwitted youth.' Then the king fared on, he and his company,\nand the eunuch and the youth with them, what while he questioned\nthe former of Belehwan and his dealing with his subjects, and he\nanswered, saying, 'As thy head liveth, O king, the folk with him\nare in sore straits and not one of them desireth to look on him,\ngentle or simple.'\n\n[When the king returned to his palace,] he went in to his wife\nShah Khatoun and said to her, 'I give thee the glad news of thine\neunuch's return.' And he told her what had betided and of the\nyouth whom he had brought with him. When she heard this, her wits\nfled and she would have cried out, but her reason restrained her,\nand the king said to her, 'What is this? Art thou overcome with\ngrief for [the loss of] the treasure or [for that which hath\nbefallen] the eunuch?' 'Nay, as thy head liveth, O king!'\nanswered she. 'But women are fainthearted.' Then came the servant\nand going in to her, told her all that had befallen him and\nacquainted her with her son's case also and with that which he\nhad suffered of stresses and how his uncle had exposed him to\nslaughter and he had been taken prisoner and they had cast him\ninto the pit and hurled him from the top of the citadel and how\nGod had delivered him from these perils, all of them; and he went\non to tell her [all that had betided him], whilst she wept.\n\nThen said she to him, 'When the king saw him and questioned thee\nof him, what saidst thou to him?' And he answered, 'I said to\nhim, \"This is the son of a nurse who belonged to us. We left him\nlittle and he grew up; so I brought him, that he might be servant\nto the king,\"' Quoth she, 'Thou didst well.' And she charged him\nto be instant in the service of the prince. As for the king, he\nredoubled in kindness to the eunuch and appointed the youth a\nliberal allowance and he abode going in to the king's house and\ncoming out therefrom and standing in his service, and every day\nhe grew in favour with him; whilst, as for Shah Khatoun, she used\nto stand a-watch for him at the windows and balconies and gaze\nupon him, and she on coals of fire on his account, yet could she\nnot speak.\n\nOn this wise she abode a great while and indeed yearning for him\ncame nigh to slay her; so she stood and watched for him one day\nat the door of her chamber and straining him to her bosom, kissed\nhim on the cheek and breast. At this moment, out came the master\nof the king's household and seeing her embracing the youth, abode\namazed. Then he asked to whom that chamber belonged and was\nanswered, 'To Shah Khatoun, wife of the king,' whereupon he\nturned back, trembling as [one smitten by] a thunderbolt. The\nking saw him quaking and said to him, 'Out on thee! what is the\nmatter?' 'O king,' answered he, 'what matter is graver than that\nwhich I see?' 'What seest thou?' asked the king and the officer\nsaid, 'I see that yonder youth, who came with the eunuch, he\nbrought not with him but on account of Shah Khatoun; for that I\npassed but now by her chamber door, and she was standing,\nwatching; [and when the youth came up,] she rose to him and\nclipped him and kissed him on his cheek.'\n\nWhen the king heard this, he bowed [his head] in amazement and\nperplexity and sinking into a seat, clutched at his beard and\nshook it, till he came nigh to pluck it out. Then he arose\nforthright and laid hands on the youth and clapped him in prison.\nMoreover, he took the eunuch also and cast them both into an\nunderground dungeon in his house, after which he went in to Shah\nKhatoun and said to her, 'Thou hast done well, by Allah, O\ndaughter of nobles, O thou whom kings sought in marriage, for the\nexcellence of thy repute and the goodliness of the reports of\nthee! How fair is thy semblance! May God curse her whose inward\nis the contrary of her outward, after the likeness of thy base\nfavour, whose outward is comely and its inward foul, fair face\nand foul deeds! Verily, I mean to make of thee and of yonder\ngood-for-nought an example among the folk, for that thou sentest\nnot thine eunuch but of intent on his account, so that he took\nhim and brought him into my house and thou hast trampled my head\nwith him; and this is none other than exceeding hardihood; but\nthou shall see what I will do with you.'\n\nSo saying, he spat in her face and went out from her; whilst Shah\nKhatoun made him no answer, knowing that, if she spoke at that\ntime, he would not credit her speech. Then she humbled herself in\nsupplication to God the Most High and said, 'O God the Great,\nThou knowest the hidden things and the outward parts and the\ninward' If an advanced term[FN#137] be [appointed] to me, let it\nnot be deferred, and if a deferred one, let it not be advanced!'\nOn this wise she passed some days, whilst the king fell into\nperplexity and forswore meat and drink and sleep and abode\nknowing not what he should do and saying [in himself], 'If I kill\nthe eunuch and the youth, my soul will not be solaced, for they\nare not to blame, seeing that she sent to fetch him, and my heart\nwill not suffer me to slay them all three. But I will not be\nhasty in putting them to death, for that I fear repentance.' Then\nhe left them, so he might look into the affair.\n\nNow he had a nurse, a foster-mother, on whose knees he had been\nreared, and she was a woman of understanding and misdoubted of\nhim, but dared not accost him [with questions]. So she went in to\nShah Khatoun and finding her in yet sorrier plight than he, asked\nher what was to do; but she refused to answer. However, the nurse\ngave not over coaxing and questioning her, till she exacted of\nher an oath of secrecy. So the old woman swore to her that she\nwould keep secret all that she should say to her, whereupon the\nqueen related to her her history from first to last and told her\nthat the youth was her son. With this the old woman prostrated\nherself before her and said to her, 'This is an easy matter.' But\nthe queen answered, saying, 'By Allah, O my mother, I choose my\ndestruction and that of my son rather than defend myself by\navouching a thing whereof they will not credit me; for they will\nsay, \"She avoucheth this, but that she may fend off reproach from\nherself\" And nought will avail me but patience.' The old woman\nwas moved by her speech and her intelligence and said to her,\n'Indeed, O my daughter, it is as thou sayst, and I hope in God\nthat He will show forth the truth. Have patience and I will\npresently go in to the king and hear what he saith and contrive\nsomewhat in this matter, if it be the will of God the Most High.'\n\nThen she arose and going in to the king, found him with his head\nbetween his knees, and he lamenting. So she sat down by him\nawhile and bespoke him with soft words and said to him, 'Indeed,\nO my son, thou consumest mine entrails, for that these [many]\ndays thou hast not mounted to horse, and thou lamentest and I\nknow not what aileth thee.' 'O my mother,' answered he, '[this my\nchagrin] is due to yonder accursed woman, of whom I still deemed\nwell and who hath done thus and thus.' Then he related to her the\nwhole story from first to last, and she said to him, 'This thy\nconcern is on account of a worthless woman.' Quoth he, 'I was but\nconsidering by what death I should slay them, so the folk may [be\nadmonished by their fate and] repent.' And she said, 'O my son,\nbeware of haste, for it engendereth repentance and the slaying of\nthem will not escape [thee]. When thou art assured of this\naffair, do what thou wilt.' 'O my mother,' rejoined he; 'there\nneedeth no assurance concerning him for whom she despatched her\neunuch and he fetched him.'\n\nBut she said, 'There is a thing wherewith we will make her\nconfess, and all that is in her heart shall be discovered to\nthee.' 'What is that?' asked the king, and she answered, 'I will\nbring thee a hoopoe's heart,[FN#138] which, when she sleepeth, do\nthou lay upon her heart and question her of all thou wilt, and\nshe will discover this unto thee and show forth the truth to\nthee.\" The king rejoiced in this and said to his nurse, 'Hasten\nand let none know of thee.' So she arose and going in to the\nqueen, said to her, 'I have done thine occasion and it is on this\nwise. This night the king will come in to thee and do thou feign\nthyself asleep; and if he ask thee of aught, do thou answer him,\nas if in thy sleep.' The queen thanked her and the old woman went\naway and fetching the hoopoe's heart, gave it to the king.\n\nHardly was the night come, when he went in to his wife and found\nher lying back, [apparently] asleep; so he sat down by her side\nand laying the hoopoe's heart on her breast, waited awhile, so he\nmight be certified that she slept. Then said he to her, 'Shah\nKhatoun, Shah Khatoun, is this my recompense from thee?' Quoth\nshe, 'What offence have I committed?' And he, 'What offence can\nbe greater than this? Thou sentest after yonder youth and\nbroughtest him hither, on account of the desire of thy heart, so\nthou mightest do with him that for which thou lustedst.' 'I know\nnot desire,' answered she. 'Verily, among thy servants are those\nwho are comelier and handsomer than he; yet have I never desired\none of them.' 'Why, then,' asked he, 'didst thou lay hold of him\nand kiss him!' And she said, 'This is my son and a piece of my\nheart; and of my longing and love for him, I could not contain\nmyself, but sprang upon him and kissed him.' When the king heard\nthis, he was perplexed and amazed and said to her, 'Hast thou a\nproof that this youth is thy son? Indeed, I have a letter from\nthine uncle King Suleiman Shah, [wherein he giveth me to know]\nthat his unck Belehwan cut his throat.' 'Yes,' answered she, 'he\ndid indeed cut his throat, but severed not the windpipe; so my\nuncle sewed up the wound and reared him, [and he lived,] for that\nhis hour was not come.'\n\nWhen the king heard this, he said, 'This proof sufficeth me,' and\nrising forthright in the night, let bring the youth and the\neunuch. Then he examined the former's throat with a candle and\nsaw [the scar where] it [had been] cut from ear to ear, and\nindeed the place had healed up and it was like unto a\nstretched-out thread. Therewithal the king fell down prostrate to\nGod, [in thanksgiving to Him] for that He had delivered the\nprince from all these perils and from the stresses that he had\nundergone, and rejoiced with an exceeding joy for that he had\nwrought deliberately and had not made haste to slay him, in which\ncase sore repentance had betided him. As for the youth,\"\ncontinued the young treasurer, \"he was not saved but because his\nterm was deferred, and on like wise, O king, is it with me; I too\nhave a deferred term, which I shall attain, and a period which I\nshall accomplish, and I trust in God the Most High that He will\ngive me the victory over these wicked viziers.\"\n\nWhen the youth had made an end of his speech, the king said,\n\"Carry him back to the prison;\" and when they had done this, he\nturned to the viziers and said to them, \"Yonder youth looseth his\ntongue upon you, but I know your affectionate solicitude for the\nwelfare of my empire and your loyal counsel to me; so be of good\nheart, for all that ye counsel me I will do.\" When they heard\ntnese words, they rejoiced and each of them said his say Then\nsaid the king, \"I have not deferred his slaughter but to the\nintent that the talk might be prolonged and that words might\nabound, and I desire [now] that ye sit up for him a gibbet\nwithout the town and make proclamation among the folk that they\nassemble and take him and carry him in procession to the gibbet,\nwith the crier crying before him and saying, 'This is the\nrecompense of him whom the king delighted to favour and who hath\nbetrayed him!'\" The viziers rejoiced, when they heard this, and\nslept not that night, of their joy; and they made proclamation in\nthe city and set up the gibbet.\n\n                       The Eleventh Day.\n\n\n\n                  OF THE SPEEDY RELIEF OF GOD.\n\n\n\nWhen it was the eleventh day, the viziers betook them early in\nthe morning to the king's gate and said to him, \"O king, the folk\nare assembled from the king's gate to the gibbet, so they may see\n[the execution of] the king's commandment on the youth.\" So the\nking bade fetch the prisoner and they brought him; whereupon the\nviziers turned to him and said to him, \"O vile of origin, doth\nany hope of life remain with thee and lookest thou still for\ndeliverance after this day?\" \"O wicked viziers,\" answered he,\n\"shall a man of understanding renounce hope in God the Most High?\nIndeed, howsoever a man be oppressed, there cometh to him\ndeliverance from the midst of stress and life from the midst of\ndeath, [as is shown by the case of] the prisoner and how God\ndelivered him.\" \"What is his story?\" asked the king; and the\nyouth answered, saying, \"O king, they tell that\n\n\n\n\n\n             STORY OF THE PRISONER AND HOW GOD GAVE\n                          HIM RELIEF.\n\n\n\nThere was once a king of the kings, who had a high palace,\noverlooking a prison of his, and he used to hear in the night one\nsaying, 'O Ever-present Deliverer, O Thou whose relief is nigh,\nrelieve Thou me!' One day the king waxed wroth and said, \"Yonder\nfool looketh for relief from [the consequences of] his crime.\n'Then said he to his officers, 'Who is in yonder prison?' And\nthey answered, 'Folk upon whom blood hath been found.'[FN#139] So\nthe king bade bring the man in question before him and said to\nhim, 'O fool, little of wit, how shall thou be delivered from\nthis prison, seeing that thine offence is great?' Then he\ncommitted him to a company of his guards and said to them, 'Take\nthis fellow and crucify him without the city.'\n\nNow it was the night-season. So the soldiers carried him without\nthe city, thinking to crucify him, when, behold, there came out\nupon them thieves and fell in on them with swords and [other]\nweapons. Thereupon the guards left him whom they purposed to put\nto death [and took to flight], whilst the man who was going to\nslaughter fled forth at a venture and plunging into the desert,\nknew not whither he went before he found himself in a thicket and\nthere came out upon him a lion of frightful aspect, which\nsnatched him up and set him under him. Then he went up to a tree\nand tearing it up by the roots, covered the man therewith and\nmade off into the thicket, in quest of the lioness.\n\nAs for the man, he committed his affair to God the Most High,\nrelying upon Him for deliverance, and said in himself, 'What is\nthis affair?' Then he did away the leaves from himself and\nrising, saw great plenty of men's bones there, of those whom the\nlion had devoured. He looked again and saw a heap of gold lying\nalongside a girdle;[FN#140] whereat he marvelled and gathering up\nthe gold in his skirts, went forth of the thicket and fled in\naffright at hazard, turning neither to the right nor to the left,\nin his fear of the lion; till he came to a village and cast\nhimself down, as he were dead. He lay there till the day appeared\nand he was rested from his fatigue, when he arose and burying the\ngold, entered the village. Thus God gave him relief and he came\nby the gold.\"\n\nThen said the king, \"How long wilt thou beguile us with thy\nprate, O youth? But now the hour of thy slaughter is come.\" And\nhe bade crucify him upon the gibbet. [So they carried him to the\nplace of execution] and were about to hoist him up [upon the\ncross,] when, behold, the captain of the thieves, who had found\nhim and reared him,[FN#141] came up at that moment and asked what\nwas that assembly and [the cause of] the crowds gathered there.\nThey told him that a servant of the king had committed a great\ncrime and that he was about to put him to death. So the captain\nof the thieves pressed forward and looking upon the prisoner,\nknew him, whereupon he went up to him and embraced him and\nclipped him and fell to kissing him upon his mouth. Then said he,\n\"This is a boy whom I found under such a mountain, wrapped in a\ngown of brocade, and I reared him and he fell to stopping the way\nwith us. One day, we set upon a caravan, but they put us to\nflight and wounded some of us and took the boy and went their\nway. From that day to this I have gone round about the lands in\nquest of him, but have not lighted on news of him [till now;] and\nthis is he.\"\n\nWhen the king heard this, he was certified that the youth was his\nvery son; so he cried out at the top of his voice and casting\nhimself upon him, embraced him and wept and said, \"Had I put thee\nto death, as was my intent, I should have died of regret for\nthee.\" Then he cut his bonds and taking his crown from his head,\nset it on that of his son, whereupon the people raised cries of\njoy, whilst the trumpets sounded and the drums beat and there\nbefell a great rejoicing. They decorated the city and it was a\nglorious day; the very birds stayed their flight in the air, for\nthe greatness of the clamour and the noise of the crying. The\narmy and the folk carried the prince [to the palace] in\nmagnificent procession, and the news came to his mother Behrjaur,\nwho came forth and threw herself upon him. Moreover, the king\nbade open the prison and bring forth all who were therein, and\nthey held high festival seven days and seven nights and rejoiced\nwith a mighty rejoicing; whilst terror and silence and confusion\nand affright fell upon the viziers and they gave themselves up\nfor lost.\n\nAfter this the king sat, with his son by his side and the viziers\nsitting before him, and summoned his chief officers and the folk\nof the city. Then the prince turned to the viziers and said to\nthem, \"See, O wicked viziers, that which God hath done and the\nspeedy [coming of] relief.\" But they answered not a word and the\nking said, \"It sufficeth me that there is nothing alive but\nrejoiceth with me this day, even to the birds in the sky, but ye,\nyour breasts are straitened. Indeed, this is the greatest of\nill-will in you to me, and had I hearkened to you, my regret had\nbeen prolonged and I had died miserably of grief.\" \"O my father,\"\nquoth the prince, \"but for the fairness of thy thought and thy\njudgment and thy longanimity and deliberation in affairs, there\nhad not bedded thee this great joyance. Hadst thou slain me in\nhaste, repentance would have been sore on thee and long grief,\nand on this wise doth he who ensueth haste repent.\"\n\nThen the king sent for the captain of the thieves and bestowed on\nhim a dress of honour,[FN#142] commanding that all who loved the\nking should put off [their raiment and cast it] upon him.[FN#143]\nSo there fell dresses of honour [and other presents] on him, till\nhe was wearied with their much plenty, and Azadbekht invested him\nwith the mastership of the police of his city. Then he bade set\nup other nine gibbets beside the first and said to his son, \"Thou\nart guiltless, and yet these wicked viziers endeavoured for thy\nslaughter.\" \"O my father,\" answered the prince, \"I had no fault\n[in their eyes] but that I was a loyal counsellor to thee and\nstill kept watch over thy good and withheld their hands from thy\ntreasuries; wherefore they were jealous and envied me and plotted\nagainst me and sought to slay me,\" Quoth the king, \"The time [of\nretribution] is at hand, O my son; but what deemest thou we\nshould do with them in requital of that which they did with thee?\nFor that they have endeavoured for thy slaughter and exposed thee\nto public ignominy and soiled my honour among the kings.\"\n\nThen he turned to the viziers and said to them, \"Out on ye! What\nliars ye are! What excuse is left you?\" \"O king,\" answered they,\n\"there abideth no excuse for us and our sin hath fallen upon us\nand broken us in pieces. Indeed we purposed evil to this youth\nand it hath reverted upon us, and we plotted mischief against him\nand it hath overtaken us; yea, we digged a pit for him and have\nfallen ourselves therein.\" So the king bade hoist up the viziers\nupon the gibbets and crucify them there, for that God is just and\nordaineth that which is right. Then Azadbekht and his wife and\nson abode in joyance and contentment, till there came to them the\nDestroyer of Delights and they died all; and extolled be the\nperfection of the [Ever-]Living One, who dieth not, to whom be\nglory and whose mercy be upon us for ever and ever! Amen.\n\n\n\n\n\n              JAAFER BEN YEHYA AND ABDULMEILIK BEN\n                  SALIH THE ABBASIDE.[FN#144]\n\n\n\nIt is told of Jaafer ben Yehya the Barmecide that he sat down one\nday to drink and being minded to be private (with his friends),\nsent for his boon-companions, in whom he delighted, and charged\nthe chamberlain[FN#145] that he should suffer none of the\ncreatures of God the Most High to enter, save a man of his\nboon-companions, by name Abdulmelik ben Salih,[FN#146] who was\nbehindhand with them. Then they donned coloured clothes,[FN#147]\nfor that it was their wont, whenas they sat in the wine-chamber,\nto don raiment of red and yellow and green silk, and sat down to\ndrink, and the cups went round and the lutes pulsed.\n\nNow there was a man of the kinsfolk of the Khalif [Haroun er\nReshid], by name Abdulmelik ben Salih ben Ali ben Abdallah ben el\nAbbas,[FN#148] who was great of gravity and piety and\ndecorousness, and Er Reshid was used instantly to require of him\nthat he should keep him company in his carousals and drink with\nhim and had proffered him, to this end, riches galore, but he\nstill refused. It chanced that this Abdulmelik es Salih came to\nthe door of Jaafer ben Yehya, that he might bespeak him of\ncertain occasions of his, and the chamberlain, doubting not but\nhe was the Abdulmelik ben Salih aforesaid, whom Jaafer had\ncharged him admit and that he should suffer none but him to\nenter, allowed him to go in to his master.\n\nWhen Jaafer saw him, his reason was like to depart for shame and\nhe knew that the chamberlain had been deceived by the likeness of\nthe name; and Abdulmelik also perceived how the case stood and\nconfusion was manifest to him in Jaafer's face. So he put on a\ncheerful favour and said, \"No harm be upon you![FN#149] Bring us\nof these dyed clothes.\" So they brought him a dyed gown[FN#150]\nand he put it on and sat discoursing cheerily with Jaafer and\njesting with him. Then said he, \"Give us to drink of your wine.\"\nSo they poured him out a pint and he said, \"Be ye indulgent with\nus, for we have no wont of this.\" Then he chatted and jested with\nthem till Jaafer's breast dilated and his constraint ceased from\nhim and his shamefastness, and he rejoiced in this with an\nexceeding joy and said to Abdulmelik, \"What is thine errand?\"\nQuoth the other, \"I come (may God amend thee!) on three\noccasions, whereof I would have thee bespeak the Khalif; to wit,\nfirstly, I have on me a debt to the amount of a thousand thousand\ndirhems,[FN#151] which I would have discharged; secondly, I\ndesire for my son the office of governor of a province, whereby\nhis rank may be raised; and thirdly, I would fain have thee marry\nhim to a daughter of the Khalif, for that she is his cousin and\nhe is a match for her.\" And Jaafer said, \"God accomplished! unto\nthee these three occasions. As for the money, it shall presently\nbe carried to thy house; as for the government, I make thy son\nviceroy of Egypt; and as for the marriage, I give him to wife\nsuch an one, the daughter of our Lord the Commander of the\nFaithful, at a dowry of such and such a sum. So depart in the\nassurance of God the Most High.\"\n\nSo Abdulmelik went away to his house, whither he found that the\nmoney had foregone him, and on the morrow Jaafer presented\nhimself before the Khalif and acquainted him with what had passed\nand that he had appointed Abdulmelik's son governor of Egypt and\nhad promised him his daughter in marriage. Er Reshid approved of\nthis and confirmed the appointment and the marriage. [Then he\nsent for the young man] and he went not forth of the palace of\nthe Khalif till he wrote him the patent [of investiture with the\ngovernment] of Egypt; and he let bring the Cadis and the\nwitnesses and drew up the contract of marriage.\n\n\n\n\n\n             ER RESHID AND THE BARMECIDES.[FN#152]\n\n\n\nIt is said that the most extraordinary of that which happened to\nEr Reshid was as follows: His brother El Hadi,[FN#153] when he\nsucceeded to the Khalifate, enquired of a seal-ring of great\nprice, that had belonged to his father El Mehdi,[FN#154] and it\ncame to his knowledge that Er Reshid had taken it. So he required\nit of the latter, who refused to give it up, and El Hadi insisted\nupon him, but he still denied the seal-ring of the Khalifate. Now\nthis was on the bridge [over the Tigris], and he threw the ring\ninto the river. When El Hadi died and Er Reshid succeeded to the\nKhalifate, he came in person to that bridge, with a seal-ring of\nlead, which he threw into the river at the same place, and bade\nthe divers seek it. So they did [his bidding] and brought up the\nfirst ring, and this was reckoned [an omen] of Er Reshid's good\nfortune and [a presage of] the continuance of his reign.[FN#155]\n\nWhen Er Reshid came to the throne, he invested Jaafer ben Yehya\nben Khalid el Bermeki[FN#156] with the vizierate. Now Jaafer was\neminently distinguished for generosity and munificence, and the\nstories of him to this effect are renowned and are written in the\nbooks. None of the viziers attained to the rank and favour which\nhe enjoyed with Er Reshid, who was wont to call him\nbrother[FN#157] and used to carry him with him into his house.\nThe period of his vizierate was nineteen years,[FN#158] and Yehya\none day said to his son Jaafer, \"O my son, what time thy reed\ntrembleth, water it with kindness.\"[FN#159] Opinions differ\nconcerning the reason of Jaafer's slaughter, but the better is as\nfollows. Er Reshid could not brook to be parted from Jaafer nor\nfrom his [own] sister Abbaseh, daughter of El Mehdi, a single\nhour, and she was the loveliest woman of her time; so he said to\nJaafer, \"I will marry thee to her, that it may be lawful to thee\nto look upon her, but thou shalt not touch her.\" [Accordingly,\nthey were married] and they used both to be present in Er\nReshid's sitting chamber. Now the Khalif would rise bytimes [and\ngo forth] from the chamber, and they being both young and filled\nwith wine, Jaafer would rise to her and swive her. She conceived\nby him and bore a handsome boy and fearing Er Reshid, despatched\nthe newborn child by one of her confidants to Mecca the Holy, may\nGod the Most High advance it in honour and increase it in\nvenerance and nobility and magnification! The affair abode\nconcealed till there befell despite between Abbaseh and one of\nher slave-girls, whereupon the latter discovered the affair of\nthe child to Er Reshid and acquainted him with its abiding-place.\nSo, when the Khalif made the pilgrimage, he despatched one who\nbrought him the boy and found the affair true, wherefore he\ncaused befall the Barmecides that which befell.[FN#160]\n\n\n\n\n\n              IBN ES SEMMAK AND ER RESHID.[FN#161]\n\n\n\nIt is related that Ibn es Semmak[FN#162] went in one day to Er\nReshid and the Khalif, being athirst, called for drink. So his\ncup was brought him, and when he took it, Ibn es Semmak said to\nhim, \"Softly, O Commander of the Faithful! If thou wert denied\nthis draught, with what wouldst thou buy it?\" \"With the half of\nmy kingdom,\" answered the Khalif; and Ibn es Semmak said, \"Drink\nand God prosper it to thee!\" Then, when he had drunken, he said\nto him, \"If thou wert denied the going forth of the draught from\nthy body, with what wouldst thou buy its issue?\" \"With the whole\nof my kingdom,\" answered Er Reshid: and Ibn es Semmak said, \"O\nCommander of the Faithful, verily, a kingdom that weigheth not in\nthe balance against a draught [of water] or a voiding of urine is\nnot worth the striving for.\" And Haroun wept.\n\n\n\n\n\n                 EL MAMOUN AND ZUBEIDEH[FN#163]\n\n\n\nIt is said that El Mamoun[FN#164] came one day upon Zubeideh,\nmother of El Amin,[FN#165] and saw her moving her lips and\nmuttering somewhat he understood not; so he said to her, \"O\nmother mine, dost thou imprecate [curses] upon me, for that I\nslew thy son and despoiled him of his kingdom?\" \"Not so, by\nAllah, O Commander of the Faithful!\" answered she, and he said,\n\"What then saidst thou?\" Quoth she, \"Let the Commander of the\nFaithful excuse me.\" But he was instant with her, saying, \"Needs\nmust thou tell it.\" And she replied, \"I said, 'God confound\nimportunity!'\" \"How so?\" asked the Khalif, and she said, \"I\nplayed one day at chess with the Commander of the Faithful\n[Haroun er Reshid] and he imposed on me the condition of\ncommandment and acceptance.[FN#166] He beat me and bade me put\noff my clothes and go round about the palace, naked; so I did\nthis, and I incensed against him. Then we fell again to playing\nand I beat him; so I bade him go to the kitchen and swive the\nfoulest and sorriest wench of the wenches thereof. [I went to the\nkitchen] and found not a slave-girl fouler and filthier than thy\nmother;[FN#167] so I bade him swive her. He did as I bade him and\nshe became with child by him of thee, and thus was I [by my\nunlucky insistance] the cause of the slaying of my son and the\ndespoiling him of his kingdom.\" When El Mamoun heard this, he\nturned away, saying, \"God curse the importunate!\" to wit,\nhimself, who had importuned her till she acquainted him with that\nmatter.\n\n\n\n\n\n               EN NUMAN AND THE ARAB OF THE BENOU\n                          TAI.[FN#168]\n\n\n\nIt is said that En Numan[FN#169] had two boon-companions, one of\nwhom was called Ibn Saad and the other Amrou ben el Melik, and he\nbecame one night drunken and bade bury them alive; so they buried\nthem. When he arose on the morrow, he enquired for them and was\nacquainted with their case, whereupon he built over them a\nmonument and appointed to himself a day of ill-luck and a day of\ngood-luck. If any met him on his day of ill-omen, he slew him and\nwith his blood he washed the monument aforesaid, the which is a\nplace well known in Cufa; and if any met him on his day of grace,\nhe enriched him.\n\nNow there accosted him once, on his day of ill-omen, an Arab of\nthe Benou Tai,[FN#170] and En Numan would have put him to death;\nbut the Arab said, \"God quicken the king! I have two little girls\nand have made none guardian over them; so, if the king see fit to\ngrant me leave to go to them, I will give him the covenant of\nGod[FN#171] that I will return to him, whenas I have appointed\nthem a guardian.\" En Numan had compassion on him and said to him,\n\"If a man will be surety for thee of those who are with us, [I\nwill let thee go], and if thou return not, I will put him to\ndeath.\" Now there was with En Numan his vizier Sherik ben Amrou;\nso the Tai[FN#172] looked at him and said,\n\nSherik ben Amrou, what device avails the hand of death to stay? O\n     brother of the brotherless, brother of all th' afflicted,\n     say.\nBrother of En Numan, with thee lies an old man's anguish to\n     allay, A graybeard slain, may God make fair his deeds upon\n     the Reckoning-Day!\nQuoth Sherik, \"On me be his warranty, may God assain the king!\"\n     So the Tai departed, after a term had been assigned him for\n     his coming.\n\nWhen the appointed day arrived, En Numan sent for Sherik and said\nto him, \"Verily the first part of this day is past.\" And Sherik\nanswered, \"The king hath no recourse against me till it be\neventide.\" When it evened, there appeared one afar off and En\nNuman fell to looking upon him and on Sherik, and the latter said\nto him, \"Thou hast no right over me till yonder fellow come, for\nbelike he is my man.\" As he spoke, up came the Tai in haste and\nEn Numan said \"By Allah, never saw I [any] more generous than you\ntwo! I know not whether of you is the more generous, this one who\nbecame warrant for thee in [danger of] death or thou who\nreturnest unto slaughter.\" Then said he to Sherik, \"What prompted\nthee to become warrant for him, knowing that it was death?\" And\nhe said, \"[I did this] lest it be said, 'Generosity hath departed\nfrom viziers.'\" Then said En Numan to the Tai, \"And thou, what\nprompted thee to return, knowing that therein was death and thine\nown destruction?\" Quoth the Arab, \"[I did this] lest it be said,\n'Fidelity hath departed from the folk.'\" And En Numan said, \"By\nAllah, I will be the third of you,[FN#173] lest it be said,\n'Clemency hath departed from kings.'\" So he pardoned him and bade\nabolish the day of ill-omen; whereupon the Arab recited the\nfollowing verses:\n\nFull many a man incited me to infidelity, But I refused, for all\n     the talk wherewith they set on me.\nI am a man in whom good faith's a natural attribute; The deeds of\n     every upright man should with his speech agree.\n\nQuoth En Numan, \"What prompted thee to keep faith, the case being\nas thou sayest?\" \"O king,\" answered the Arab, \"it was my\nreligion.\" And En Numan said, \"What is thy religion?\" \"The\nChristian,\" replied the other. Quoth the king, \"Expound it unto\nme.\" [So the Tai expounded it to him] and En Numan became a\nChristian.[FN#174]\n\n\n\n\n\n                  FIROUZ AND HIS WIFE[FN#175]\n\n\n\nA certain king sat one day on the roof of his palace, diverting\nhimself with looking about him, and presently, chancing to look\naside, he espied, on [the roof of] a house over against his\npalace, a woman, never saw his eyes her like. So he turned to\nthose who were present and said to them, \"To whom belongeth\nyonder house?\" \"To thy servant Firouz,\" answered they, \"and that\nis his wife.\" So he went down, (and indeed love had made him\ndrunken and he was passionately enamoured of her), and calling\nFirouz, said to him, \"Take this letter and go with it to such a\ncity and bring me the answer.\" Firouz took the letter and going\nto his house, laid it under his head and passed that night. When\nthe morning morrowed, he took leave of his wife and set out for\nthe city in question, unknowing what the king purposed against\nhim.\n\nAs for the king, he arose in haste and disguising himself,\nrepaired to the house of Firouz and knocked at the door. Quoth\nFirouz's wife, \"Who is at the door?\" And he answered, saying, \"I\nam the king, thy husband's master.\" So she opened the door and he\nentered and sat down, saying, \"We are come to visit thee.\" Quoth\nshe, \"I seek refuge [with God] from this visitation, for indeed I\ndeem not well thereof.\" And the king said, \"O desire of hearts, I\nam thy husband's master and methinks thou knowest me not.\" \"Nay,\"\nanswered she, \"I know thee, O my lord and master, and I know thy\npurpose and that which thou seekest and that thou art my\nhusband's lord. I understand what thou wishest, and indeed the\npoet hath forestalled thee in his saying of the following verses,\nin reference to thy case:\n\nYour water I'll leave without drinking, for there Too many\n     already have drunken whilere.\nWhen the flies light on food, from the platter my hand I raise,\n     though my spirit should long for the fare;\nAnd whenas the dogs at a fountain have lapped, The lions to drink\n     of the water forbear.\"\n\nThen said she, \"O king, comest thou to a [watering-]place whereat\nthy dog hath drunken and wilt thou drink thereof?\" The king was\nabashed at her and at her words and went out from her, but forgot\nhis sandal in the house.\n\nAs for Firouz, when he went forth from his house, he sought the\nletter, but found it not; so he returned home. Now his return\nfell in with the king's going forth and he found the latter's\nsandal in his house, whereat his wit was dazed and he knew that\nthe king had not sent him away but for a purpose of his own.\nHowever, he held his peace and spoke not a word, but, taking the\nletter, went on his errand and accomplished it and returned to\nthe king, who gave him a hundred dinars. So Firouz betook himself\nto the market and bought what beseemeth women of goodly gifts and\nreturning to his wife, saluted her and gave her all that he had\nbrought and said to her, \"Arise [go] to thy father's house.\"\n\"Wherefore?\" asked she, and he said, \"Verily, the king hath been\nbountiful to me and I would have thee show forth this, so thy\nfather may rejoice in that which he seeth upon thee.\" \"With all\nmy heart,\" answered she and arising forthright, betook herself to\nthe house of her father, who rejoiced in her coming and in that\nwhich he saw upon her; and she abode with him a month's space,\nand her husband made no mention of her.\n\nThen came her brother to him and said, \"O Firouz, an thou wilt\nnot acquaint me with the reason of thine anger against thy wife,\ncome and plead with us before the king.\" Quoth he, \"If ye will\nhave me plead with you, I will do so.\" So they went to the king\nand found the cadi sitting with him; whereupon quoth the damsel's\nbrother, \"God assist our lord the cadi! I let this man on hire a\nhigh-walled garden, with a well in good case and trees laden with\nfruit; but he beat down its walls and ruined its well and ate its\nfruits, and now he desireth to return it to me.\" The cadi turned\nto Firouz and said to him, \"What sayst thou, O youth?\" And he\nanswered, \"Indeed, I delivered him the garden in the goodliest of\ncase.\" So the cadi said to the brother, \"Hath he delivered thee\nthe garden, as he saith?\" And the other replied, \"No; but I\ndesire to question him of the reason of his returning it.\" Quoth\nthe cadi, \"What sayst thou, O youth?\" And Firouz answered, \"I\nreturned it in my own despite, for that I entered it one day and\nsaw the track of the lion; wherefore I feared lest, if I entered\nit again, the lion should devour me. So that which I did, I did\nof reverence to him and for fear of him.\"\n\nNow the king was leaning back upon the cushion, when he heard the\nman's words, he knew the purport thereof; so he sat up and said,\n\"Return to thy garden in all assurance and ease of heart; for, by\nAllah, never saw I the like of thy garden nor stouter of ward\nthan its walls over its trees!\" So Firouz returned to his wife,\nand the cadi knew not the truth of the affair, no, nor any of\nthose who were in that assembly, save the king and the husband\nand the damsel's brother.[FN#176]\n\n\n\n\n\n               KING SHAH BEKHT AND HIS VIZIER ER\n                        REHWAN.[FN#177]\n\n\n\nThere was once, of old days and in bygone ages and times, a king\nof the kings of the time, by name Shah Bekht, who had troops and\nservants and guards galore and a vizier called Er Rehwan, who was\nwise, understanding, a man of good counsel and a cheerful\nacceptor of the commandments of God the Most High, to whom belong\nmight and majesty. The king committed to him the affairs of his\nkingdom and his subjects and said according to his word, and on\nthis wise he abode a long space of time.\n\nNow this vizier had many enemies, who envied him his high place\nand still sought to do him hurt, but found no way thereunto, and\nGod, in His fore-knowledge and His fore-ordinance from time\nimmemorial, decreed that the king dreamt that the Vizier Er\nRehwan gave him a fruit from off a tree and he ate it and died.\nSo he awoke, affrighted and troubled, and when the vizier had\npresented himself before him [and withdrawn] and the king was\nalone with those in whom he trusted, he related to them his dream\nand they counselled him to send for the astrologers and\ninterpreters [of dreams] and commended to him a sage, for whose\nskill and wisdom they vouched. So the king sent for him and\nentreated him with honour and made him draw near to himself. Now\nthere had been private with the sage in question a company of the\nvizier's enemies, who besought him to slander the vizier to the\nking and counsel him to put him to death, in consideration of\nthat which they promised him of wealth galore; and he agreed with\nthem of this and told the king that the vizier would slay him in\nthe course of the [ensuing] month and bade him hasten to put him\nto death, else would he surely slay him.\n\nPresently, the vizier entered and the king signed to him to cause\navoid the place. So he signed to those who were present to\nwithdraw, and they departed; whereupon quoth the king to him,\n\"How deemest thou, O excellent vizier, O loyal counsellor in all\nmanner of governance, of a vision I have seen in my sleep?\" \"What\nis it, O king?\" asked the vizier, and Shah Bekht related to him\nhis dream, adding, \"And indeed the sage interpreted it to me and\nsaid to me, 'An thou put not the vizier to death within a month,\nhe will slay thee.' Now I am exceeding both to put the like of\nthee to death, yet do I fear to leave thee on life. What then\ndost thou counsel me that I should do in this matter?\" The vizier\nbowed his head awhile, then raised it and said, \"God prosper the\nking! Verily, it skills not to continue him on life of whom the\nking is afraid, and my counsel is that thou make haste to put me\nto death.\"\n\nWhen the king heard his speech, he turned to him and said, \"It is\ngrievous to me, O vizier of good counsel.\" And he told him that\nthe [other] sages testified [to the correctness of their fellow's\ninterpretation of the dream]; whereupon Er Rehwan sighed and knew\nthat the king went in fear of him; but he showed him fortitude\nand said to him, \"God assain the king! My counsel is that the\nking accomplish his commandment and execute his ordinance, for\nthat needs must death be and it is liefer to me that I die,\noppressed, than that I die, an oppressor. But, if the king see\nfit to defer the putting of me to death till the morrow and will\npass this night with me and take leave of me, when the morrow\ncometh, the king shall do what he will.\"\n\nThen he wept till he wet his gray hairs and the king was moved to\ncompassion for him and granted him that which he sought and\nvouchsafed him that night's respite.\n\n                  The First Night of the Month\n\nWhen it was eventide, the king caused avoid his sitting chamber\nand summoned the vizier, who presented himself and making his\nobeisance to the king, kissed the earth before him and bespoke\nhim as follows:\n\n\n\n\n\n           STORY OF THE MAN OF KHORASSAN, HIS SON AND\n                         HIS GOVERNOR.\n\n\n\n\"There was once a man of Khorassan and he had a son, whose\nimprovement he ardently desired; but the young man sought to be\nalone and to remove himself from his father's eye, so he might\ngive himself up to pleasance and delight. So he sought of his\nfather [leave to make] the pilgrimage to the Holy House of God\nand to visit the tomb of the Prophet (whom God bless and keep!).\nNow between them and Mecca was a journey of five hundred\nparasangs; but his father could not gainsay him, for that the law\nof God made this[FN#178] incumbent on him and because of that\nwhich he hoped for him of improvement [therefrom]. So he joined\nunto him a governor, in whom he trusted, and gave him much money\nand took leave of him. The son set out on the holy\npilgrimage[FN#179] with the governor and abode on that wise,\nspending freely and using not thrift.\n\nNow there was in his neighbourhood a poor man, who had a\nslave-girl of surpassing beauty and loveliness, and the youth\nbecame enamoured of her and suffered grief and concern for the\nlove of her and her loveliness, so that he was like to perish for\npassion; and she also loved him with a love yet greater than his\nlove for her. So she called an old woman who used to visit her\nand acquainted her with her case, saying, 'An I foregather not\nwith him, I shall die.' The old woman promised her that she would\ndo her endeavour to bring her to her desire; so she veiled\nherself and repairing to the young man, saluted him and\nacquainted him with the girl's case, saying, 'Her master is a\ncovetous man; so do thou invite him [to thy lodging] and tempt\nhim with money, and he will sell thee the damsel.'\n\nAccordingly, he made a banquet, and stationing himself in the\nman's way, invited him and carried him to his house, where they\nsat down and ate and drank and abode in discourse. Presently, the\nyoung man said to the other, 'I hear that thou hast with thee a\nslave-girl, whom thou desirest to sell.' And he answered, saying,\n'By Allah, O my lord, I have no mind to sell her!' Quoth the\nyouth, 'I hear that she cost thee a thousand dinars, and I will\ngive thee six hundred, to boot.' And the other said, 'I sell her\nto thee [at that price].' So they fetched notaries, who drew up\nthe contract of sale, and the young man counted out to the girl's\nmaster half the purchase money, saying, 'Let her be with thee\ntill I complete to thee the rest of the price and take my\nslave-girl.' The other consented to this and took of him a bond\nfor the rest of the money, and the girl abode with her master, on\ndeposit.\n\nAs for the youth, he gave his governor a thousand dirhems and\ndespatched him to his father, to fetch money from him, so he\nmight pay the rest of the girl's price, saying to him, 'Be not\n[long] absent.' But the governor said in himself, 'How shall I go\nto his father and say to him, \"Thy son hath wasted thy money and\nwantoned it away\"?[FN#180] With what eye shall I look on him, and\nindeed, I am he in whom he confided and to whom he hath entrusted\nhis son? Indeed, this were ill seen. Nay, I will fare on to the\npilgrimage[FN#181] [with the caravan of pilgrims], in despite of\nthis fool of a youth; and when he is weary [of waiting], he will\ndemand back the money [he hath already paid] and return to his\nfather, and I shall be quit of travail and reproach.' So he went\non with the caravan to the pilgrimage[FN#182] and took up his\nabode there.\n\nMeanwhile, the youth abode expecting his governor's return, but\nhe returned not; wherefore concern and chagrin waxed upon him,\nbecause of his mistress, and his longing for her redoubled and he\nwas like to slay himself. She became aware of this and sent him a\nmessenger, bidding him to her. So he went to her and she\nquestioned him of the case; whereupon he told her what was to do\nof the matter of his governor, and she said to him, 'With me is\nlonging the like of that which is with thee, and I misdoubt me\nthy messenger hath perished or thy father hath slain him; but I\nwill give thee all my trinkets and my clothes, and do thou sell\nthem and pay the rest of my price, and we will go, I and thou, to\nthy father.'\n\nSo she gave him all that she possessed and he sold it and paid\nthe rest of her price; after which there remained to him a\nhundred dirhems. These he spent and lay that night with the\ndamsel in all delight of life, and his soul was like to fly for\njoy; but when he arose in the morning, he sat weeping and the\ndamsel said to him, 'What aileth thee to weep?' And he said, 'I\nknow not if my father be dead, and he hath none other heir but\nmyself; and how shall I win to him, seeing I have not a dirhem?'\nQuoth she, 'I have a bracelet; do thou sell it and buy small\npearls with the price. Then bray them and fashion them into great\npearls, and thereon thou shalt gain much money, wherewith we may\nmake our way to thy country.' So he took the bracelet and\nrepairing to a goldsmith, said to him, 'Break up this bracelet\nand sell it.' But he said, 'The king seeketh a good[FN#183]\nbracelet; I will go to him and bring thee the price thereof.' So\nhe carried the bracelet to the Sultan and it pleased him greatly,\nby reason of the goodliness of its workmanship. Then he called an\nold woman, who was in his palace, and said to her, 'Needs must I\nhave the mistress of this bracelet, though but for a single\nnight, or I shall die.' And the old woman answered, 'I will bring\nher to thee.'\n\nSo she donned a devotee's habit and betaking herself to the\ngoldsmith, said to him, 'To whom belongeth the bracelet that is\nin the king's hand?' Quoth he, 'It belongeth to a man, a\nstranger, who hath bought him a slave-girl from this city and\nlodgeth with her in such a place.' So the old woman repaired to\nthe young man's house and knocked at the door. The damsel opened\nto her and seeing her clad in devotee's apparel,[FN#184] saluted\nher and said to her, ' Belike thou hast an occasion with us?'\n'Yes,' answered the old woman; 'I desire privacy and\nablution.'[FN#185] Quoth the girl, 'Enter.' So she entered and\ndid her occasion and made the ablution and prayed. Then she\nbrought out a rosary and began to tell her beads thereon, and the\ndamsel said to her, 'Whence comest thou, O pilgrim?'[FN#186]\nQuoth she '[I come] from [visiting] the Idol[FN#187] of the\nAbsent in such a church.[FN#188] There standeth up no woman [to\nprayer] before him, who hath an absent friend and discovereth to\nhim her need, but he acquainteth her with her case and giveth her\ntidings of her absent one.' 'O pilgrim,' said the damsel, 'we\nhave an absent one, and my lord's heart cleaveth to him and I\ndesire to go to the idol and question him of him.' Quoth the old\nwoman, '[Wait] till to-morrow and ask leave of thy husband, and I\nwill come to thee and go with thee in weal.'\n\nThen she went away, and when the girl's master came, she sought\nhis leave to go with the old woman and he granted her leave. So\nthe beldam took her and carried her to the king's door. The\ndamsel entered with her, unknowing whither she went, and beheld a\ngoodly house and chambers adorned [with gold and colours] that\nwere no idol's chambers. Then came the king and seeing her beauty\nand grace, went up to her, to kiss her; whereupon she fell down\nin a fit and strove with her hands and feet. When he saw this, he\nwas solicitous for her and held aloof from her and left her; but\nthe thing was grievous to her and she refused meat and drink, and\nas often as the king drew near her, she fled from him in\naffright, wherefore he swore by Allah that he would not approach\nher, save with her consent, and fell to guerdoning her with\ntrinkets and raiment, but she only redoubled in aversion to him.\n\nMeanwhile, the youth her master abode expecting her; but she\nreturned not and his heart forbode him of the draught [of\nseparation]; so he went forth at hazard, distraught and knowing\nnot what he should do, and fell to strewing dust upon his head\nand crying out, 'The old woman hath taken her and gone away!' The\nboys followed him with stones and pelted him, saying, 'A madman!\nA madman!' Presently, the king's chamberlain, who was a man of\nage and worth, met him, and when he saw his youth, he forbade the\nboys and drove there away from him, after which he accosted him\nand questioned him of his case. So he told him how it was with\nhim and the chamberlain said to him, 'Fear not: all shall yet be\nwell with thee. I will deliver thy slave-girl for thee: so calm\nthy trouble.' And he went on to speak him fair and comfort him,\ntill he put faith in his speech.\n\nThen he carried him to his house and stripping him of his\nclothes, clad him in rags; after which he called an old woman,\nwho was his stewardess, and said to her. 'Take this youth and\nclap on his neck this iron chain and go round about with him in\nall the thoroughfares of the city; and when thou hast made an end\nof this, go up with him to the palace of the king.' And he said\nto the youth, 'In whatsoever place thou seest the damsel, speak\nnot a syllable, but acquaint me with her place and thou shall owe\nher deliverance to none but me.' The youth thanked him and went\nwith the old woman on such wise as the chamberlain bade him. She\nfared on with him till they entered the city [and made the round\nthereof]; after which she went up to the palace of the king and\nfell to saying, 'O people of affluence, look on a youth whom the\ndevils take twice in the day and pray for preservation from [a\nlike] affliction!' And she ceased not to go round about with him\ntill she came to the eastern wing[FN#189] of the palace,\nwhereupon the slave-girls came out to look upon him and when they\nsaw him they were amazed at his beauty and grace and wept for\nhim.\n\nThen they told the damsel, who came forth and looked upon him and\nknew him not. But he knew her; so he bowed his head and wept. She\nwas moved to compassion for him and gave him somewhat and\nreturned to her place, whilst the youth returned with the\nstewardess to the chamberlain and told him that she was in the\nking's house, whereat he was chagrined and said, 'By Allah, I\nwill assuredly contrive a device for her and deliver her!'\nWhereupon the youth kissed his hands and feet. Then he turned to\nthe old woman and bade her change her apparel and her favour. Now\nthis old woman was goodly of speech and nimble of wit; so he gave\nher costly and delicious perfumes and said to her, 'Get thee to\nthe king's slave girls and sell them these [perfumes] and make\nthy way to the damsel and question her if she desire her master\nor not.' So the old woman went out and making her way to the\npalace, went in to the damsel and drew near her and recited the\nfollowing verses:\n\nGod keep the days of love-delight! How dearly sweet they were!\n     How joyous and how solaceful was life in them whilere!\nWould he were not who sundered us upon the parting day! How many\n     a body hath he slain, how many a bone laid bare?\nSans fault of mine, my blood and tears he shed and beggared me Of\n     him I love, yet for himself gained nought thereby whate'er.\n\n\nWhen the damsel heard these verses, she wept till her clothes\nwere drenched and drew near the old woman, who said to her,\n'Knowest thou such an one?' And wept and said, 'He is my lord.\nWhence knowest thou him?' 'O my lady,' answered the old woman,\n'sawst thou not the madman who came hither yesterday with the old\nwoman? He was thy lord. But this is no time for talk. When it is\nnight, get thee to the top of the palace [and wait] on the roof\ntill thy lord come to thee and contrive for thy deliverance.'\nThen she gave her what she would of perfumes and returning to the\nchamberlain, acquainted him with that which had passed, and he\ntold the youth.\n\nWhen it was eventide, the chamberlain let bring two horses and\ngreat store of water and victual and a saddle-camel and a man to\nshow them the way. These he hid without the town, whilst he and\nthe young man took with them a long rope, made fast to a staple,\nand repaired to the palace. When they came thither, they looked\nand beheld the damsel standing on the roof. So they threw her the\nrope and the staple; whereupon she [made the latter fast to the\nparapet and] wrapping her sleeves about her hands, slid down [the\nrope] and landed with them. They carried her without the town,\nwhere they mounted, she and her lord, and fared on, whilst the\nguide forewent them, directing them in the way, and they gave not\nover going night and day till they entered his father's house.\nThe young man saluted his father, who rejoiced in him, and he\nrelated to him all that had befallen him, whereupon he rejoiced\nin his safety.\n\nAs for the governor, he wasted all that was with him and returned\nto the city, where he saw the youth and excused himself to him.\nThen he questioned him of what had befallen him and he told him,\nwhereat he marvelled and returned to companionship with him; but\nthe youth ceased to have regard for him and gave him not\nstipends, as of his [former] wont, neither discovered to him\naught of his secrets. When the governor saw that there was no\nprofit for him with the young Khorassani, he returned to the\nking, the ravisher of the damsel, and told him what the\nchamberlain had done and counselled him to slay the latter and\nincited him to recover the damsel, [promising] to give his friend\nto drink of poison and return. So the king sent for the\nchamberlain and upbraided him; whereupon he fell upon him and\nslew him and the king's servants fell upon the chamberlain and\nslew him.\n\nMeanwhile, the governor returned to the youth, who questioned him\nof his absence, and he told him that he had been in the city of\nthe king who had taken the damsel. When the youth heard this, he\nmisdoubted of the governor and never again trusted him in aught,\nbut was still on his guard against him. Then the governor made\ngreat store of sweetmeats and put in them deadly poison and\npresented them to the youth. When the latter saw the sweetmeats,\nhe said in himself, 'This is an extraordinary thing of the\ngovernor! Needs must there be mischief in this sweetmeat, and I\nwill make proof of it upon himself.' So he made ready victual and\nset on the sweetmeat amongst it and bade the governor to his\nhouse and set food before him. He ate and amongst the rest, they\nbrought him the poisoned sweetmeat; so he ate thereof and died\nforthright; whereby the youth knew that this was a plot against\nhimself and said, 'He who seeketh his fortune of his own\n[unaided] might[FN#190] attaineth it not.' Nor (continued the\nvizier) is this, O king of the age, more extraordinary than the\nstory of the druggist and his wife and the singer.\"\n\nWhen King Shah Bekht heard his vizier's story, he gave him leave\nto withdraw to his own house and he abode there the rest of the\nnight and the next day till the evening.\n\n                 The Second Night of the Month\n\nWhen the evening evened, the king sat in his privy\nsitting-chamber and his mind was occupied with the story of the\nsinger and the druggist. So he called the vizier and bade him\ntell the story. \"It is well,\" answered he, \"They tell, O my lord,\nthat\n\n\n\n\n\n             STORY OF THE SINGER AND THE DRUGGIST.\n\n\n\nThere was once in the city of Hemadan[FN#191] a young man of\ncomely aspect and excellently skilled in singing to the lute, and\nhe was well seen of the people of the city. He went forth one day\nof his city, with intent to travel, and gave not over journeying\ntill his travel brought him to a goodly city. Now he had with him\na lute and what pertained thereto,[FN#192] so he entered and went\nround about the city till he fell in with a druggist, who, when\nhe espied him, called to him. So he went up to him and he bade\nhim sit down. Accordingly, he sat down by him and the druggist\nquestioned him of his case. The singer told him what was in his\nmind and the other took him up into his shop and brought him food\nand fed him. Then said he to him, 'Arise and take up thy lute and\nbeg about the streets, and whenas thou smellest the odour of\nwine, break in upon the drinkers and say to them, \"I am a\nsinger.\" They will laugh and say, \"Come, [sing] to us.\" And when\nthou singest, the folk will know thee and bespeak one another of\nthee; so shall thou become known in the city and thine affairs\nwill prosper.'\n\nSo he went round about, as the druggist bade him, till the sun\ngrew hot, but found none drinking. Then he entered a by-street,\nthat he might rest himself, and seeing there a handsome and lofty\nhouse, stood in its shade and fell to observing the goodliness of\nits ordinance. As he was thus engaged, behold, a window opened\nand there appeared thereat a face, as it were the moon. Quoth\nshe,[FN#193] 'What aileth thee to stand there? Dost thou want\naught?' And he answered, 'I am a stranger,' and acquainted her\nwith his case; whereupon quoth she, 'What sayst thou to meat and\ndrink and the enjoyment of a fair-face[d one] and getting thee\nwhat thou mayst spend?' 'O my lady,' answered he, 'this is my\ndesire and that in quest whereof I am going about.'\n\nSo she opened the door to him and brought him in. Then she seated\nhim at the upper end of the room and set food before him. So he\nate and drank and lay with her and swived her. Then she sat down\nin his lap and they toyed and laughed and kissed till the day was\nhalf spent, when her husband came home and she could find nothing\nfor it but to hide the singer in a rug, in which she rolled him\nup. The husband entered and seeing the place disordered[FN#194]\nand smelling the odour of wine, questioned her of this. Quoth\nshe, 'I had with me a friend of mine and I conjured her [to drink\nwith me]; so we drank a jar [of wine], she and I, and she went\naway but now, before thy coming in.' Her husband, (who was none\nother than the singer's friend the druggist, that had invited him\nand fed him), deemed her words true and went away to his shop,\nwhereupon the singer came forth and he and the lady returned to\ntheir sport and abode on this wise till eventide, when she gave\nhim money and said to him, 'Come hither to-morrow in the\nforenoon.' 'It is well,' answered he and departed; and at\nnightfall he went to the bath.\n\nOn the morrow, he betook himself to the shop of his friend the\ndruggist, who welcomed him and questioned him of his case and how\nhe had fared that day. Quoth the singer, 'May God requite thee\nwith good, O my brother! For that thou hast directed me unto\neasance!' And he related to him his adventure with the woman,\ntill he came to the mention of her husband, when he said, 'And at\nmidday came the cuckold her husband and knocked at the door. So\nshe wrapped me in the mat, and when he had gone about his\nbusiness, I came forth and we returned to what we were about.'\nThis was grievous to the druggist and he repented of having\ntaught him [how he should do] and misdoubted of his wife. So he\nsaid to the singer, 'And what said she to thee at thy going\naway?' And the other answered, 'She bade me come back to her on\nthe morrow. So, behold, I am going to her and I came not hither\nbut that I might acquaint thee with this, lest thy heart be\noccupied with me.' Then he took leave of him and went his way. As\nsoon as the druggist was assured that he had reached the house,\nhe cast the net over his shop[FN#195] and made for his house,\nmisdoubting of his wife, and knocked at the door.\n\nNow the singer had entered and the druggist's wife said to him,\n'Arise, enter this chest.' So he entered it and she shut the lid\non him and opened to her husband, who came in, in a state of\nbewilderment, and searched the house, but found none and\noverlooked the chest. So he said in himself, 'The house [of which\nthe singer spoke] is one which resembleth my house and the woman\nis one who resembles my wife,' and returned to his shop;\nwhereupon the singer came forth of the chest and falling upon the\ndruggist's wife, did his occasion and paid her her due and\nweighed down the scale for her.[FN#196] Then they ate and drank\nand kissed and clipped, and on this wise they abode till the\nevening, when she gave him money, for that she found his weaving\ngood,[FN#197] and made him promise to come to her on the morrow.\n\nSo he left her and slept his night and on the morrow he repaired\nto the shop of his friend the druggist and saluted him. The other\nwelcomed him and questioned him of his case; whereupon he told\nhim how he had fared, till he came to the mention of the woman's\nhusband, when he said, 'Then came the cuckold her husband and she\nclapped me into the chest and shut the lid on me, whilst her\naddlepated pimp of a husband went round about the house, top and\nbottom; and when he had gone his way, we returned to what we were\nabout.' With this, the druggist was certified that the house was\nhis house and the wife his wife, and he said, 'And what wilt thou\ndo to-day?' Quoth the singer, 'I shall return to her and weave\nfor her and full her yarn,[FN#198] and I came but to thank thee\nfor thy dealing with me.'\n\nThen he went away, whilst the fire was loosed in the heart of the\ndruggist and he shut his shop and betaking himself to his house,\nknocked at the door. Quoth the singer, 'Let me get into the\nchest, for he saw me not yesterday.' 'Nay,' answered she, 'wrap\nthyself up in the rug.' So he wrapped himself up in the rug and\nstood in a corner of the room, whilst the druggist entered and\nwent straight to the chest, but found it empty. Then he went\nround about the house and searched it from top to bottom, but\nfound nothing and no one and abode between belief and disbelief,\nand said in himself, 'Belike, I suspect my wife of that which is\nnot in her.' So he was certified of her innocence and returned to\nhis shop, whereupon out came the singer and they abode on their\nformer case, as of wont, till eventide, when she gave him one of\nher husband's shirts and he took it and going away, passed the\nnight in his lodging.\n\nOn the morrow, he repaired to the druggist, who saluted him and\ncame to meet him and rejoiced in him and smiled in his face,\ndeeming his wife innocent. Then he questioned him of his\nyesterday's case and he told him how he had fared, saying, 'O my\nbrother, when the cuckold knocked at the door, I would have\nentered the chest; but his wife forbade me and rolled me up in\nthe rug. The man entered and thought of nothing but the chest; so\nhe broke it open and abode as he were a madman, going up and\ncoming down. Then he went his way and I came out and we abode on\nour wonted case till eventide, when she gave me this shirt of her\nhusband's; and behold, I am going to her.'\n\nWhen the druggist heard the singer's words, he was certified of\nthe case and knew that the calamity, all of it, was in his own\nhouse and that the wife was his wife; and he saw the shirt,\nwhereupon he redoubled in certainty and said to the singer, 'Art\nthou now going to her?' 'Yes, O my brother,' answered he and\ntaking leave of him, went away; whereupon the druggist started\nup, as he were a madman, and ungarnished his shop.[FN#199] Whilst\nhe was thus engaged, the singer won to the house, and presently\nup came the druggist and knocked at the door. The singer would\nhave wrapped himself up in the rug, but she forbade him and said\nto him, 'Get thee down to the bottom of the house and enter the\noven[FN#200] and shut the lid upon thyself.' So he did as she\nbade him and she went down to her husband and opened the door to\nhim, whereupon he entered and went round about the house, but\nfound no one and overlooked the oven. So he stood meditating and\nswore that he would not go forth of the house till the morrow.\n\nAs for the singer, when his [stay in the oven] grew long upon\nhim, he came forth therefrom, thinking that her husband had gone\naway. Then he went up to the roof and looking down, beheld his\nfriend the druggist; whereat he was sore concerned and said in\nhimself, 'Alas, the disgrace of it! This is my friend the\ndruggist, who dealt kindly with me and wrought me fair and I have\nrequited him with foul' And he feared to return to the druggist;\nso he went down and opened the first door and would have gone\nout; but, when he came to the outer door, he found it locked and\nsaw not the key. So he stole up again to the roof and cast\nhimself down into the [next] house. The people of the house heard\nhim and hastened to him, deeming him a thief. Now the house in\nquestion belonged to a Persian; so they laid hands on him and the\nmaster of the house began to beat him, saying to him, 'Thou art a\nthief.' 'Nay,' answered he, 'I am no thief, but a singing-man, a\nstranger. I heard your voices and came to sing to you.'\n\nWhen the folk heard his words, they talked of letting him go; but\nthe Persian said, 'O folk, let not his speech beguile you. This\nfellow is none other than a thief who knoweth how to sing, and\nwhen he happeneth on the like of us, he is a singer.' 'O our\nlord,' answered they, 'this man is a stranger, and needs must we\nrelease him.' Quoth he, 'By Allah, my heart revolteth from this\nfellow! Let me make an end of him with beating.' But they said,\n'Thou mayst nowise do that' So they delivered the singer from the\nPersian, the master of the house, and seated him amongst them,\nwhereupon he fell to singing to them and they rejoiced in him.\n\nNow the Persian had a mameluke,[FN#201] as he were the full moon,\nand he arose [and went out], and the singer followed him and wept\nbefore him, professing love to him and kissing his hands and\nfeet. The mameluke took compassion on him and said to him, 'When\nthe night cometh and my master entereth [the harem] and the folk\ngo away, I will grant thee thy desire; and I lie in such a\nplace.' Then the singer returned and sat with the\nboon-companions, and the Persian rose and went out, he and the\nmameluke beside him. [Then they returned and sat down.][FN#202]\nNow the singer knew the place that the mameluke occupied at the\nfirst of the night; but it befell that he rose from his place and\nthe candle went out. The Persian, who was drunken, fell over on\nhis face, and the singer, supposing him to be the mameluke, said,\n'By Allah, it is good!' and threw himself upon him and clipped\nhim, whereupon the Persian started up, crying out, and laying\nhands on the singer, pinioned him and beat him grievously, after\nwhich he bound him to a tree that was in the house.[FN#203]\n\nNow there was in the house a fair singing-girl and when she saw\nthe singer pinioned and bound to the tree, she waited till the\nPersian lay down on his couch, when she arose and going to the\nsinger, fell to condoling with him over what had betided him and\nogling him and handling his yard and rubbing it, till it rose on\nend. Then said she to him, 'Do thou swive me and I will loose thy\nbonds, lest he return and beat thee again; for he purposeth thee\nevil.' Quoth he, 'Loose me and I will do.' But she said, 'I fear\nthat, [if I loose thee], thou wilt not do. But I will do, and\nthou standing; and when I have done, I will loose thee.' So\nsaying, she pulled up her clothes and sitting down on the\nsinger's yard, fell to going and coming.\n\nNow there was in the house a ram, with which the Persian used to\nbutt, and when he saw what the woman did, he thought she would\nbutt with him; so he broke his halter and running at her, butted\nher and broke her head. She fell on her back and cried out;\nwhereupon the Persian started up from sleep in haste and seeing\nthe singing-girl [cast down on her back] and the singer with his\nyard on end, said to the latter, 'O accursed one, doth not what\nthou hast already done suffice thee?' Then he beat him soundly\nand opening the door, put him out in the middle of the night.\n\nHe lay the rest of the night in one of the ruins, and when he\narose in the morning, he said, 'None is to blame. I sought my own\ngood, and he is no fool who seeketh good for himself; and the\ndruggist's wife also sought good for herself; but destiny\novercometh precaution and there remaineth no abiding for me in\nthis town.' So he went forth from the city. Nor (added the\nvizier) is this story, extraordinary though it be, more\nextraordinary than that of the king and his son and that which\nbedded them of wonders and rarities.\"\n\nWhen the king heard this story, he deemed it pleasant and said,\n\"This story is near unto that which I know and meseemeth I should\ndo well to have patience and hasten not to slay my vizier, so I\nmay get of him the story of the king and his son.\" Then he gave\nthe vizier leave to go away to his own house; so he thanked him\nand abode in his house all that day.\n\n                  The Third Night of the Month\n\nWhen it was the time of the evening meal, the king repaired to\nthe sitting-chamber and summoning the vizier, sought of him the\nstory he had promised him; and the vizier said, \"They avouch, O\nking, that\n\n                 STORY OF THE KING WHO KNEW THE\n                QUINTESSENCE[FN#204] OF THINGS.\n\nThere came to a king of the kings, in his old age, a son, who\ngrew up comely, quick-witted and intelligent, and when he came to\nyears of discretion and became a young man, his father said to\nhim, 'Take this kingdom and govern it in my stead, for I desire\nto flee [from the world] to God the Most High and don the gown of\nwool and give myself up to devotion.' Quoth the prince, 'And I\nalso desire to take refuge with God the Most High.' And the king\nsaid, 'Arise, let us flee forth and make for the mountains and\nworship in them, for shamefastness before God the Most High.'\n\nSo they gat them raiment of wool and clothing themselves\ntherewith, went forth and wandered in the deserts and wastes;\nbut, when some days had passed over them, they became weak for\nhunger and repented them of that which they had done, whenas\nrepentance profited them not, and the prince complained to his\nfather of weariness and hunger. 'Dear my son,' answered the king,\n'I did with thee that which behoved me,[FN#205] but thou wouldst\nnot hearken to me, and now there is no means of returning to thy\nformer estate, for that another hath taken the kingdom and become\nits defender; but I will counsel thee of somewhat, wherein do\nthou pleasure me.' Quoth the prince, 'What is it?' And his father\nsaid, 'Take me and go with me to the market and sell me and take\nmy price and do with it what thou wilt, and I shall become the\nproperty of one who will provide for my support,' 'Who will buy\nthee of me,' asked the prince, 'seeing thou art a very old man?\nNay, do thou rather sell me, for the demand for me will be\ngreater.' But the king said, 'An thou wert king, thou wouldst\nrequire me of service.'\n\nSo the youth obeyed his father's commandment and taking him,\ncarried him to the slave-dealer and said to the latter, 'Sell me\nthis old man.' Quoth the dealer, 'Who will buy this fellow, and\nhe a man of fourscore?' Then said he to the king, 'In what crafts\ndost thou excel?' Quoth he, 'I know the quintessence of jewels\nand I know the quintessence of horses and that of men; brief, I\nknow the quintessence of all things.' So the dealer took him and\nwent about, offering him for sale to the folk; but none would\nbuy. Presently, up came the overseer of the [Sultan's] kitchen\nand said, 'What is this man?' And the dealer answered, 'This is a\nslave for sale.' The cook marvelled at this and bought the king\nfor ten thousand dirhems, after questioning him of what he could\ndo. Then he paid down the money and carried him to his house, but\ndared not employ him in aught of service; so he appointed him an\nallowance, such as should suffice for his livelihood, and\nrepented him of having bought him, saying, 'What shall I do with\nthe like of this fellow?'\n\nPresently, the king [of the city] was minded to go forth to his\ngarden,[FN#206] a-pleasuring, and bade the cook forego him\nthither and appoint in his stead one who should dress meat for\nthe king, so that, when he returned, he might find it ready. So\nthe cook fell a-considering of whom he should appoint and was\nbewildered concerning his affair. As he was on this wise, the old\nman came to him and seeing him perplexed how he should do, said\nto him, 'Tell me what is in thy mind; belike, I may avail to\nrelieve thee.' So he acquainted him with the king's wishes and he\nsaid, 'Have no care for this, but leave me one of the serving-men\nand go thou in peace and surety, for I will suffice thee of\nthis.' So the cook departed with the king, after he had brought\nthe old man what he needed and left him a man of the guards.\n\nWhen he was gone, the old man bade the trooper wash the\nkitchen-vessels and made ready passing goodly food. When the king\nreturned, he set the meat before him, and he tasted food whose\nlike he had never known; whereat he marvelled and asked who had\ndressed it. So they acquainted him with the old man's case and he\nsummoned him to his presence and awarded him a handsome\nrecompense.[FN#207] Moreover, he commanded that they should cook\ntogether, he and the cook, and the old man obeyed his\ncommandment.\n\nAwhile after this, there came two merchants to the king with two\npearls of price and each of them avouched that his pearl was\nworth a thousand dinars, but there was none who availed to value\nthem. Then said the cook, 'God prosper the king! Verily, the old\nman whom I bought avouched that he knew the quintessence of\njewels and that he was skilled in cookery. We have made proof of\nhim in cookery and have found him the skilfullest of men; and\nnow, if we send after him and prove him on jewels, [the truth or\nfalsehood of] his pretension will be made manifest to us.'\n\nSo the king bade fetch the old man and he came and stood before\nthe Sultan, who showed him the two pearls. Quoth he, 'As for this\none, it is worth a thousand dinars.' And the king said, 'So saith\nits owner.' 'But for this other,' continued the old man, 'it is\nworth but five hundred.' The folk laughed and marvelled at his\nsaying, and the merchant, [the owner of the second pearl], said\nto him, 'How can this, which is greater of bulk and purer of\nwater and more perfect of rondure, be less of worth than that?'\nAnd the old man answered, 'I have said what is with me.'[FN#208]\nThen said the king to him, 'Indeed, the outward appearance\nthereof is like unto that of the other pearl; why then is it\nworth but the half of its price?' 'Yes,' answered the old man,\n'[its outward resembleth the other]; but its inward is corrupt.'\n'Hath a pearl then an outward and an inward?' asked the merchant,\nand the old man said, 'Yes. In its inward is a boring worm; but\nthe other pearl is sound and secure against breakage.' Quoth the\nmerchant, 'Give us a token of this and prove to us the truth of\nthy saying.' And the old man answered, 'We will break the pearl.\nIf I prove a, liar, here is my head, and if I speak truth, thou\nwilt have lost thy pearl.' And the merchant said, 'I agree to\nthat.' So they broke the pearl and it was even as the old man had\nsaid, to wit, in its midst was a boring worm.\n\nThe king marvelled at what he saw and questioned him of [how he\ncame by] the knowledge of this. 'O king,' answered the old man,\n'this [kind of] jewel is engendered in the belly of a creature\ncalled the oyster and its origin is a drop of rain and it is firm\nto the touch [and groweth not warm, when held in the hand]; so,\nwhen [I took the second pearl and felt that] it was warm to the\ntouch, I knew that it harboured some living thing, for that live\nthings thrive not but in heat.'[FN#209] So the king said to the\ncook, 'Increase his allowance.' And he appointed to him [fresh]\nallowances.\n\nAwhile after this, two merchants presented themselves to the king\nwith two horses, and one said, 'I ask a thousand dinars for my\nhorse,' and the other, 'I seek five thousand for mine.' Quoth the\ncook, 'We have experienced the old man's just judgment; what\ndeemeth the king of fetching him?' So the king bade fetch him,\nand when he saw the two horses, he said, 'This one is worth a\nthousand and the other two thousand dinars.' Quoth the folk,\n'This [horse that thou judgeth the lesser worth] is an evident\nthoroughbred and he is younger and swifter and more compact of\nlimb than the other, ay, and finer of head and clearer of skin\nand colour. What token, then, hast thou of the truth of thy\nsaying?' And the old man said, 'This ye say is all true, but his\nsire is old and this other is the son of a young horse. Now, when\nthe son of an old horse standeth still [to rest,] his breath\nreturneth not to him and his rider falleth into the hand of him\nwho followeth after him; but the son of a young horse, if thou\nput him to speed and make him run, [then check him] and alight\nfrom off him, thou wilt find him untired, by reason of his\nrobustness.'\n\nQuoth the merchant, 'Indeed, it is as the old man avoucheth and\nhe is an excellent judge.' And the king said, 'Increase his\nallowance.' But the old man stood still and did not go away. So\nthe king said to him, 'Why dost thou not go about thy business?'\nAnd he answered, 'My business is with the king.' 'Name what thou\nwouldst have,' said the king, and the other replied, 'I would\nhave thee question me of the quintessences of men, even as thou\nhast questioned me of the quintessences of horses.' Quoth the\nking, 'We have no occasion to question thee of [this].' But the\nold man replied, 'I have occasion to acquaint thee.' 'Say what\nthou pleasest,' rejoined the king, and the old man said, 'Verily,\nthe king is the son of a baker.' Quoth the king 'How knowest thou\nthat?' And the other replied, 'Know, O king, that I have examined\ninto degrees and dignities[FN#210] and have learnt this.'\n\nThereupon the king went in to his mother and questioned her of\nhis father, and she told him that me king her husband was\nweak;[FN#211] 'wherefore,' quoth she, 'I feared for the kingdom,\nlest it pass away, after his death; so I took to my bed a young\nman, a baker, and conceived by him [and bore a son]; and the\nkingship came into the hand of my son, to wit, thyself.' So the\nking returned to the old man and said to him, 'I am indeed the\nson of a baker; so do thou expound to me the means whereby thou\nknewest me for this.' Quoth the other, 'I knew that, hadst thou\nbeen a king's son, thou wouldst have given largesse of things of\nprice, such as rubies [and the like]; and wert thou the son of a\nCadi, thou hadst given largesse of a dirhem or two dirhems, and\nwert thou the son of a merchant, thou hadst given wealth galore.\nBut I saw that thou guerdonest me not but with cakes of bread\n[and other victual], wherefore I knew that thou wast the son of a\nbaker.' Quoth the king, 'Thou hast hit the mark.' And he gave him\nwealth galore and advanced him to high estate.\"\n\nThis story pleased King Shah Bekht and he marvelled thereat; but\nthe vizier said to him, \"This story is not more extraordinary\nthan that of the rich man who married his fair daughter to the\npoor old man.\" The king's mind was occupied with the [promised]\nstory and he bade the vizier withdraw to his lodging. So he\n[returned to his house and] abode there the rest of the night and\nthe whole of the following day.\n\n                 The Fourth Night of the Month.\n\nWhen the evening evened, the king withdrew to his privy\nsitting-chamber and bade fetch the vizier. When he presented\nhimself before him, he said to him, \"Tell me the story of the\nwealthy man who married his daughter to the poor old man.\" \"It is\nwell,\" answered the vizier. \"Know, O puissant king, that\n\n\n\n\n\n            STORY OF THE RICH MAN WHO GAVE HIS FAIR\n              DAUGHTER IN MARRIAGE TO THE POOR OLD\n                              MAN.\n\n\n\nA certain wealthy merchant had a fair daughter, who was as the\nfull moon, and when she attained the age of fifteen, her father\nbetook himself to an old man and spreading him a carpet in his\nsitting-chamber, gave him to eat and caroused with him. Then said\nhe to him, 'I desire to marry thee to my daughter.' The other\nexcused himself, because of his poverty, and said to him, 'I am\nnot worthy of her nor am I a match for thee.' The merchant was\ninstant with him, but he repeated his answer to him, saying, 'I\nwill not consent to this till thou acquaint me with the reason of\nthy desire for me. If I find it reasonable, I will fall in with\nthy wish; and if not, I will not do this ever.'\n\n'Know, then,' said the merchant, 'that I am a man from the land\nof China and was in my youth well-favoured and well-to-do. Now I\nmade no account of womankind, one and all, but followed after\nboys, and one night I saw, in a dream, as it were a balance set\nup, and it was said by it, \"This is the portion of such an one.\"\nPresently, I heard my own name; so I looked and beheld a woman of\nthe utmost loathliness; whereupon I awoke in affright and said,\n\"I will never marry, lest haply this loathly woman fall to my\nlot.\" Then I set out for this city with merchandise and the\nvoyage was pleasant to me and the sojourn here, so that I took up\nmy abode here awhile and got me friends and factors, till I had\nsold all my merchandise and taken its price and there was left me\nnothing to occupy me till the folk[FN#212] should depart and\ndepart with them.\n\nOne day, I changed my clothes and putting money in my sleeve,\nsallied forth to explore the holes and corners of this city, and\nas I was going about, I saw a handsome house. Its goodliness\npleased me; so I stood looking on it, and behold, a lovely woman\n[at the lattice]. When she saw me, she made haste and descended,\nwhilst I abode confounded. Then I betook myself to a tailor there\nand questioned him of the house and to whom it belonged. Quoth\nhe, \"It belongeth to such an one the notary, may God curse him!\"\n\"Is he her father?\" asked I; [and he replied, \"Yes.\"] So I\nrepaired in haste to a man, with whom I had been used to deposit\nmy goods for sale, and told him that I desired to gain access to\nsuch an one the notary. Accordingly he assembled his friends and\nwe betook ourselves to the notary's house. When we came in to\nhim, we saluted him and sat with him, and I said to him, \"I come\nto thee as a suitor, desiring the hand of thy daughter in\nmarriage.\" Quoth he, \"I have no daughter befitting this man.\" And\nI rejoined, \"God aid thee! My desire is for thee and not for\nher.\"[FN#213] But he still refused and his friends said to him,\n\"This is an honourable man and thine equal in estate, and it is\nnot lawful to thee that thou hinder the girl of her fortune.\"\nQuoth he to them, \"Verily, my daughter whom ye seek is passing\nfoul-favoured and in her are all blameworthy qualities.\" And I\nsaid, \"I accept her, though she be as thou sayest.\" Then said the\nfolk, \"Extolled be the perfection of God! A truce to talk! [The\nthing is settled;] so say the word, how much wilt thou have [to\nher dowry]?\" Quoth he, \"I must have four thousand dinars.\" And I\nsaid, \"Hearkening and obedience.\"\n\nSo the affair was concluded and we drew up the contract of\nmarriage and I made the bride-feast; but on the wedding-night I\nbeheld a thing[FN#214] than which never made God the Most High\naught more loathly. Methought her people had contrived this by\nway of sport; so I laughed and looked for my mistress, whom I had\nseen [at the lattice], to make her appearance; but saw her not.\nWhen the affair was prolonged and I found none but her, I was\nlike to go mad for vexation and fell to beseeching my Lord and\nhumbling myself in supplication to Him that He would deliver me\nfrom her. When I arose in the morning, there came the\nchamber-woman and said to me, \"Hast thou occasion for the bath?\"\n\"No,\" answered I; and she said, \"Art thou for breakfast?\" But I\nreplied, \"No;\" and on this wise I abode three days, tasting\nneither meat nor drink.\n\nWhen the damsel[FN#215] saw me in this plight, she said to me, \"O\nman, tell me thy story, for, by Allah, an I may avail to thy\ndeliverance, I will assuredly further thee thereto.\" I gave ear\nto her speech and put faith in her loyalty and told her the story\nof the damsel whom I had seen [at the lattice] and how I had\nfallen in love with her; whereupon quoth she, \"If the girl belong\nto me, that which I possess is thine, and if she belong to my\nfather, I will demand her of him and deliver her to thee.\" Then\nshe fell to calling slave-girl after slave-girl and showing them\nto me, till I saw the damsel whom I loved and said, \"This is\nshe.\" Quoth my wife, \"Let not thy heart be troubled, for this is\nmy slave-girl. My father gave her to me and I give her to thee.\nSo comfort thyself and be of good heart and cheerful eye.\"\n\nThen, when it was night, she brought her to me, after she had\nadorned her and perfumed her, and said to her, \"Gainsay not this\nthy lord in aught that he shall seek of thee.\" When she came to\nbed with me, I said in myself, \"Verily, this damsel[FN#216] is\nmore generous than I!\" Then I sent away the slave-girl and drew\nnot nigh unto her, but arose forthright and betaking myself to my\nwife, lay with her and did away her maidenhead. She straightway\nconceived by me and accomplishing the time of her pregnancy, gave\nbirth to this dear little daughter; in whom I rejoiced, for that\nshe was lovely to the utterest, and she hath inherited her\nmother's wit and her father's comeliness.\n\nIndeed, many of the notables of the people have sought her of me\nin marriage, but I would not marry her to any, for that, one\nnight, I saw, in a dream, the balance aforesaid set up and men\nand women being weighed, one against the other, therein, and\nmeseemed I saw thee [and her] and it was said to me, \"This is\nsuch a man,[FN#217] the allotted portion of such a\nwoman.\"[FN#218] Wherefore I knew that God the Most High had\nallotted unto her none other than thyself, and I choose rather to\nmarry thee to her in my lifetime than that thou shouldst marry\nher after my death.'\n\nWhen the poor man heard the merchant's story, he became desirous\nof marrying his daughter. So he took her to wife and was\nvouchsafed of her exceeding love. Nor,\" added the vizier, \"is\nthis story more extraordinary than that of the rich man and his\nwasteful heir.\"\n\nWhen the king heard his vizier's story, he was assured that he\nwould not slay him and said, \"I will have patience with him, so I\nmay get of him the story of the rich man and his wasteful heir.\"\nAnd he bade him depart to his own house.\n\n                  The Fifth Night of the Month\n\nWhen the evening evened, the king sat in his privy closet and\nsummoning the vizier, required of him the promised story. So Er\nRehwan said, \"Know, O king, that\n\n\n\n\n\n             STORY OF THE RICH MAN AND HIS WASTEFUL\n                              SON.\n\n\n\nThere was once a sage of the sages, who had three sons and sons'\nsons, and when they waxed many and their posterity multiplied,\nthere befell dissension between them. So he assembled them and\nsaid to them, 'Be ye one hand[FN#219] against other than you and\ndespise[FN#220] not [one another,] lest the folk despise you, and\nknow that the like of you is as the rope which the man cut, when\nit was single; then he doubled [it] and availed not to cut it; on\nthis wise is division and union. And beware lest ye seek help of\nothers against yourselves[FN#221] or ye will fall into perdition,\nfor by whosesoever means ye attain your desire,[FN#222] his\nword[FN#223] will have precedence of[FN#224] your word. Now I\nhave wealth which I will bury in a certain place, so it may be a\nstore for you, against the time of your need.'\n\nThen they left him and dispersed and one of the sons fell to\nspying upon his father, so that he saw him hide the treasure\nwithout the city. When he had made an end of burying it, he\nreturned to his house; and when the morning morrowed, his son\nrepaired to the place where he had seen his father bury the\ntreasure and dug and took it and went his way. When the [hour of\nthe] old man's admission [to the mercy of God] drew nigh, he\ncalled his sons to him and acquainted them with the place where\nhe had hidden his riches. As soon as he was dead, they went and\ndug up the treasure and found wealth galore, for that the money,\nwhich the first son had taken by stealth, was on the surface and\nhe knew not that under it was other money. So they took it and\ndivided it and the first son took his share with the rest and\nlaid it to that which he had taken aforetime, behind [the backs\nof] his father and his brethren. Then he took to wife the\ndaughter of his father's brother and was vouchsafed by her a male\nchild, who was the goodliest of the folk of his time.\n\nWhen the boy grew up, his father feared for him from poverty and\nchange of case, so he said to him, 'Dear my son, know that in my\nyouth I wronged my brothers in the matter of our father's good,\nand I see thee in weal; but, if thou [come to] need, ask not of\none of them nor of any other, for I have laid up for thee in\nyonder chamber a treasure; but do not thou open it until thou\ncome to lack thy day's food.' Then he died, and his wealth, which\nwas a great matter, fell to his son. The young man had not\npatience to wait till he had made an end of that which was with\nhim, but rose and opened the chamber, and behold, it was [empty\nand its walls were] whitened, and in its midst was a rope hanging\ndown and half a score bricks, one upon another, and a scroll,\nwherein was written, 'Needs must death betide; so hang thyself\nand beg not of any, but kick away the bricks, so there may be no\nescape[FN#225] for thee, and thou shall be at rest from the\nexultation of enemies and enviers and the bitterness of poverty.'\n\nWhen the youth saw this, he marvelled at that which his father\nhad done and said, 'This is a sorry treasure.' Then he went forth\nand fell to eating and drinking with the folk, till nothing was\nleft him and he abode two days without tasting food, at the end\nof which time he took a handkerchief and selling it for two\ndirhems, bought bread and milk with the price and left it on the\nshelf [and went out. Whilst he was gone,] a dog came and took the\nbread and spoiled the milk, and when the man returned and saw\nthis, he buffeted his face and went forth, distraught, at a\nventure. Presently, he met a friend of his, to whom he discovered\nhis case, and the other said to him, 'Art thou not ashamed to\ntalk thus? How hast thou wasted all this wealth and now comest\ntelling lies and saying, \"The dog hath mounted on the shelf,\" and\ntalking nonsense?' And he reviled him.\n\nSo the youth returned to his house, and indeed the world was\ngrown black in his eyes and he said, 'My father said sooth.' Then\nhe opened the chamber door and piling up the bricks under his\nfeet, put the rope about his neck and kicked away the bricks and\nswung himself off; whereupon the rope gave way with him [and he\nfell] to the ground and the ceiling clove in sunder and there\npoured down on him wealth galore, So he knew that his father\nmeant to discipline[FN#226] him by means of this and invoked\nGod's mercy on him. Then he got him again that which he had sold\nof lands and houses and what not else and became once more in\ngood case. Moreover, his friends returned to him and he\nentertained them some days.\n\nThen said he to them one day, 'There was with us bread and the\nlocusts ate it; so we put in its place a stone, a cubit long and\nthe like broad, and the locusts came and gnawed away the stone,\nbecause of the smell of the bread.' Quoth one of his friends (and\nit was he who had given him the lie concerning the dog and the\nbread and milk), 'Marvel not at this, for mice do more than\nthat.' And he said, 'Go to your houses. In the days of my\npoverty, I was a liar [when I told you] of the dog's climbing\nupon the shelf and eating the bread and spoiling the milk; and\nto-day, for that I am rich again, I say sooth [when I tell you]\nthat locusts devoured a stone a cubit long and a cubit broad.'\nThey were confounded at his speech and departed from him; and the\nyouth's good flourished and his case was amended.[FN#227] Nor,\"\nadded the vizier,\"is this stranger or more extraordinary than the\nstory of the king's son who fell in love with the picture.\"\n\nQuoth the king, \"Belike, if I hear this story, I shall gain\nwisdom from it; so I will not hasten in the slaying of this\nvizier, nor will I put him to death before the thirty days have\nexpired.\" Then he gave him leave to withdraw, and he went away to\nhis own house.\n\n\n                  The Sixth Night of the Month\n\nWhen the day departed and the evening came, the king sat in his\nprivy chamber and summoned the vizier, who presented himself to\nhim and he questioned him of the story. So the vizier said,\n\"Know, O august king, that\n\n\n\n\n\n            THE KING'S SON WHO FELL IN LOVE WITH THE\n                            PICTURE.\n\n\n\nThere was once, in a province of Persia, a king of the kings, who\nwas mighty of estate, endowed with majesty and venerance and\nhaving troops and guards at his command; but he was childless.\nTowards the end of his life, his Lord vouchsafed him a male\nchild, and the boy grew up and was comely and learned all manner\nof knowledge. He made him a private place, to wit, a lofty\npalace, builded with coloured marbles and [adorned with] jewels\nand paintings. When the prince entered the palace, he saw in its\nceiling the picture [of a woman], than whom he had never beheld a\nfairer of aspect, and she was compassed about with slave-girls;\nwhereupon he fell down in a swoon and became distraught for love\nof her. Then he sat under the picture, till, one day, his father\ncame in to him and finding him wasted of body and changed of\ncolour, by reason of his [continual] looking on that picture,\nthought that he was ill and sent for the sages and physicians,\nthat they might medicine him. Moreover, he said to one of his\nboon- companions, 'If thou canst learn what aileth my son, thou\nshalt have of me largesse.' So the courtier went in to the prince\nand spoke him fair and cajoled him, till he confessed to him that\nhis malady was caused by the picture. Then he returned to the\nking and told him what ailed his son, whereupon he transported\nthe prince to another palace and made his former lodging the\nguest-house; and whosoever of the Arabs was entertained therein,\nhe questioned of the picture, but none could give him tidings\nthereof.\n\nOne day, there came a traveller and seeing the picture, said,\n'There is no god but God! My brother wrought this picture.' So\nthe king sent for him and questioned him of the affair of the\npicture and where was he who had wrought it. 'O my lord,'\nanswered the traveller, 'we are two brothers and one of us went\nto the land of Hind and fell in love with the king's daughter of\nthe country, and it is she who is the original of the portrait.\nIn every city he entereth, he painteth her portrait, and I follow\nhim, and long is my journey.' When the king's son heard this, he\nsaid,'Needs must I travel to this damsel.' So he took all manner\nrarities and store of riches and journeyed days and nights till\nhe entered the land of Hind, nor did he win thereto save after\nsore travail. Then he enquired of the King of Hind and he also\nheard of him.\n\nWhen the prince came before him, he sought of him his daughter in\nmarriage, and the king said, 'Indeed, thou art her equal, but\nnone dare name a man to her, because of her aversion to men.' So\nthe prince pitched his tents under the windows of the princess's\npalace, till one day he got hold of one of her favourite\nslave-girls and gave her wealth galore. Quoth she to him, 'Hast\nthou a wish?' Yes,' answered he and acquainted her with his\ncase; and she said, 'Indeed thou puttest thyself in peril.' Then\nhe abode, flattering himself with false hopes, till all that he\nhad with him was gone and the servants fled from him; whereupon\nquoth he to one in whom he trusted, 'I am minded to go to my\ncountry and fetch what may suffice me and return hither.' And the\nother answered, 'It is for thee to decide.' So they set out to\nreturn, but the way was long to them and all that the prince had\nwith him was spent and his company died and there abode but one\nwith him, on whom he loaded what remained of the victual and they\nleft the rest and fared on. Then there came out a lion and ate\nthe servant, and the prince abode alone. He went on, till his\nbeast stood still, whereupon he left her and fared on afoot till\nhis feet swelled.\n\nPresently he came to the land of the Turks,[FN#228] and he naked\nand hungry and having with him nought but somewhat of jewels,\nbound about his fore-arm. So he went to the bazaar of the\ngoldsmiths and calling one of the brokers, gave him the jewels.\nThe broker looked and seeing two great rubies, said to him,\n'Follow me.' So he followed him, till he brought him to a\ngoldsmith, to whom he gave the jewels, saying, 'Buy these.' Quoth\nhe, 'Whence hadst thou these?' And the broker replied, 'This\nyouth is the owner of them.' Then said the goldsmith to the\nprince, 'Whence hadst thou these rubies?' And he told him all\nthat had befallen him and that he was a king's son. The goldsmith\nmarvelled at his story and bought of him the rubies for a\nthousand dinars.\n\nThen said the prince to him, 'Make ready to go with me to my\ncountry.' So he made ready and went with the prince till he drew\nnear the frontiers of his father's kingdom, where the people\nreceived him with the utmost honour and sent to acquaint his\nfather with his son's coming. The king came out to meet him and\nthey entreated the goldsmith with honour. The prince abode awhile\nwith his father, then set out, [he and the goldsmith] to return\nto the country of the fair one, the daughter of the King of Hind;\nbut there met him robbers by the way and he fought the sorest of\nbattles and was slain. The goldsmith buried him and marked his\ngrave[FN#229] and returned, sorrowing and distraught to his own\ncountry, without telling any of the prince's death.\n\nTo return to the king's daughter of whom the prince went in quest\nand on whose account he was slain. She had been used to look out\nfrom the top of her palace and gaze on the youth and on his\nbeauty and grace; so she said to her slave-girl one day, 'Harkye!\nWhat is come of the troops that were encamped beside my palace?'\nQuoth the maid, 'They were the troops of the youth, the king's\nson of the Persians, who came to demand thee in marriage, and\nwearied himself on thine account, but thou hadst no compassion on\nhim.' 'Out on thee!' cried the princess. 'Why didst thou not tell\nme?' And the damsel answered, 'I feared thy wrath.' Then she\nsought an audience of the king her father and said to him, 'By\nAllah, I will go in quest of him, even as he came in quest of me;\nelse should I not do him justice.'\n\nSo she made ready and setting out, traversed the deserts and\nspent treasures till she came to Sejestan, where she called a\ngoldsmith to make her somewhat of trinkets. [Now the goldsmith in\nquestion was none other than the prince's friend]; so, when he\nsaw her, he knew her (for that the prince had talked with him of\nher and had depictured her to him) and questioned her of her\ncase. She acquainted him with her errand, whereupon he buffeted\nhis face and rent his clothes and strewed dust on his head and\nfell a-weeping. Quoth she, 'Why dost thou thus?' And he\nacquainted her with the prince's case and how he was his comrade\nand told her that he was dead; whereat she grieved for him and\nfaring on to his father and mother, [acquainted them with the\ncase].\n\nSo the prince's father and his uncle and his mother and the\ngrandees of the realm repaired to his tomb and the princess made\nlamentation over him, crying aloud. She abode by the tomb a whole\nmonth; then she let fetch painters and caused them limn her\nportraiture and that of the king's son. Moreover, she set down in\nwriting their story and that which had befallen them of perils\nand afflictions and set it [together with the pictures], at the\nhead of the tomb; and after a little, they departed from the\nplace. Nor,\" added the vizier, \"is this more extraordinary, O\nking of the age, than the story of the fuller and his wife and\nthe trooper and what passed between them.\"\n\nWith this the king bade the vizier go away to his lodging, and\nwhen he arose in the morning, he abode his day in his house.\n\n                The Seventh Night of the Month.\n\nAt eventide the king sat [in his privy sitting-chamber] and\nsending for the vizier, said to him, \"Tell me the story of the\nfuller and his wife.\" \"With all my heart,\" answered the vizier.\nSo he came forward and said, \"Know, O king of the age, that\n\n\n\n\n\n               STORY OF THE FULLER AND HIS WIFE.\n\n\n\nThere was once in a certain city a woman fair of favour, who had\nto lover a trooper. Her husband was a fuller, and when he went\nout to his business, the trooper used to come to her and abide\nwith her till the time of the fuller's return, when he would go\naway. On this wise they abode awhile, till one day the trooper\nsaid to his mistress, 'I mean to take me a house near unto thine\nand dig an underground passage from my house to thy house, and do\nthou say to thy husband, \"My sister hath been absent with her\nhusband and now they have returned from their travels; and I have\nmade her take up her sojourn in my neighbourhood, so I may\nforegather with her at all times. So go thou to her husband the\ntrooper and offer him thy wares [for sale], and thou wilt see my\nsister with him and wilt see that she is I and I am she, without\ndoubt. So, Allah, Allah, go to my sister's husband and give ear\nto that which he shall say to thee.\"'\n\nAccordingly, the trooper bought him a house near at hand and made\ntherein an underground passage communicating with his mistress's\nhouse. When he had accomplished his affair, the wife bespoke her\nhusband as her lover had lessoned her and he went out to go to\nthe trooper's house, but turned back by the way, whereupon quoth\nshe to him, 'By Allah, go forthright, for that my sister asketh\nof thee.' So the dolt of a fuller went out and made for the\ntrooper's house, whilst his wife forewent him thither by the\nsecret passage, and going up, sat down beside her lover.\nPresently, the fuller entered and saluted the trooper and his\n[supposed] wife and was confounded at the coincidence of the\ncase.[FN#230] Then doubt betided him and he returned in haste to\nhis dwelling; but she forewent him by the underground passage to\nher chamber and donning her wonted clothes, sat [waiting] for him\nand said to him, 'Did I not bid thee go to my sister and salute\nher husband and make friends with them?' Quoth he, 'I did this,\nbut I misdoubted of my affair, when I saw his wife.' And she\nsaid, 'Did I not tell thee that she resembleth me and I her, and\nthere is nought to distinguish between us but our clothes? Go\nback to her.'\n\nSo, of the heaviness of his wit, he believed her and turning\nback, went in to the trooper; but she had foregone him, and when\nhe saw her beside her lover, he fell to looking on her and\npondering. Then he saluted her and she returned him the\nsalutation; and when she spoke, he was bewildered. So the trooper\nsaid to him, 'What ails thee to be thus?' And he answered, 'This\nwoman is my wife and the voice is her voice.' Then he rose in\nhaste and returning to his own house, saw his wife, who had\nforegone him by the secret passage. So he went back to the\ntrooper's house and saw her sitting as before; whereupon he was\nabashed before her and sitting down in the trooper's\nsitting-chamber, ate and drank with him and became drunken and\nabode without sense all that day till nightfall, when the trooper\narose and shaving off some of the fuller's hair (which was long\nand flowing) after the fashion of the Turks, clipped the rest\nshort and clapped a tarboush on his head.\n\nThen he thrust his feet into boots and girt him with a sword and\na girdle and bound about his middle a quiver and a bow and\narrows. Moreover, he put money in his pocket and thrust into his\nsleeve letters-patent addressed to the governor of Ispahan,\nbidding him assign to Rustem Khemartekeni a monthly allowance of\na hundred dirhems and ten pounds of bread and five pounds of meat\nand enrol him among the Turks under his commandment. Then he took\nhim up and carrying him forth, left him in one of the mosques.\n\nThe fuller gave not over sleeping till sunrise, when he awoke and\nfinding himself in this plight, misdoubted of his affair and\nimagined that he was a Turk and abode putting one foot forward\nand drawing the other back. Then said he in himself, 'I will go\nto my dwelling, and if my wife know me, then am I Ahmed the\nfuller; but, if she know me not, I am a Turk.' So he betook\nhimself to his house; but when the artful baggage his wife saw\nhim, she cried out in his face, saying, 'Whither away, O trooper?\nWilt thou break into the house of Ahmed the fuller, and he a man\nof repute, having a brother-in-law a Turk, a man of high standing\nwith the Sultan? An thou depart not, I will acquaint my husband\nand he will requite thee thy deed.'\n\nWhen he heard her words, the dregs of the drunkenness wrought in\nhim and he imagined that he was indeed a Turk. So he went out\nfrom her and putting his hand to his sleeve, found therein a\nscroll and gave it to one who read it to him. When he heard that\nwhich was written in the scroll, his mind was confirmed in the\nfalse supposition; but he said in himself, 'Maybe my wife seeketh\nto put a cheat on me; so I will go to my fellows the fullers; and\nif they know me not, then am I for sure Khemartekeni the Turk.'\nSo he betook himself to the fullers and when they espied him afar\noff, they thought that he was one of the Turks, who used to wash\ntheir clothes with them without payment and give them nothing.\n\nNow they had complained of them aforetime to the Sultan, and he\nsaid, 'If any of the Turks come to you, pelt them with stones.'\nSo, when they saw the fuller, they fell upon him with sticks and\nstones and pelted him; whereupon quoth he [in himself], 'Verily,\nI am a Turk and knew it not.' Then he took of the money in his\npocket and bought him victual [for the journey] and hired a\nhackney and set out for Ispahan, leaving his wife to the trooper.\nNor,\" added the vizier, \"is this more extraordinary than the\nstory of the merchant and the old woman and the king.\"\n\nThe vizier's story pleased King Shah Bekht and his heart clave to\nthe story of the merchant and the old woman; so he bade Er Rehwan\nwithdraw to his lodging, and he went away to his house and abode\nthere the next day.\n\n                  The Eight Night of the Month\n\nWhen the evening evened, the king sat in his privy chamber and\nbade fetch the vizier, who presented himself before him, and the\nking required of him the promised story. So the vizier answered,\n\"With all my heart. Know, O king, that\n\n\n\n\n\n            STORY OF THE OLD WOMAN, THE MERCHANT AND\n                           THE KING.\n\n\n\nThere was once in a city of Khorassan a family of affluence and\ndistinction, and the townsfolk used to envy them for that which\nGod had vouchsafed them. As time went on, their fortune ceased\nfrom them and they passed away, till there remained of them but\none old woman. When she grew feeble and decrepit, the townsfolk\nsuccoured her not with aught, but put her forth of the city,\nsaying, 'This old woman shall not harbour with us, for that we do\nher kindness and she requiteth us with evil.' So she took shelter\nin a ruined place and strangers used to bestow alms upon her, and\non this wise she abode a while of time.\n\nNow the uncle's son of the king of the city had aforetime\ndisputed [the kingship] with him, and the people misliked the\nking; but God the Most High decreed that he should get the better\nof his cousin. However, jealousy of him abode in his heart and he\nacquainted the vizier, who hid it not and sent [him] money.\nMoreover, he fell to summoning [all strangers who came to the\ntown], man after man, and questioning them of their faith and\ntheir worldly estate, and whoso answered him not [to his liking],\nhe took his good.[FN#231] Now a certain wealthy man of the\nMuslims was on a journey and it befell that he arrived at that\ncity by night, unknowing what was to do, and coming to the ruin\naforesaid, gave the old woman money and said to her, 'No harm\nupon thee.' Whereupon she lifted up her voice and prayed [for\nhim], He set down his merchandise by her [and abode with her] the\nrest of the night and the next day.\n\nNow thieves had followed him, so they might rob him of his good,\nbut availed not unto aught; wherefore he went up to the old woman\nand kissed her head and exceeded in munificence to her. Then she\n[warned him of that which awaited strangers entering the town\nand] said to him, 'I like not this for thee and I fear mischief\nfor thee from these questions that the vizier hath appointed for\nthe confrontation of the ignorant.' And she expounded to him the\ncase according to its fashion. Then said she to him, 'But have no\nconcern: only carry me with thee to thy lodging, and if he\nquestion thee of aught, whilst I am with thee, I will expound the\nanswers to thee.' Se he carried her with him to the city and\nestablished her in his lodging and entreated her kindly.\n\nPresently, the vizier heard of the merchant's coming; so he sent\nto him and let bring him to his house and talked with him awhile\nof his travels and of that which he had abidden therein, and the\nmerchant answered him thereof. Then said the vizier, 'I will put\ncertain questions to thee, which if thou answer me, it will be\nwell [for thee].' And the merchant rose and made him no answer.\nQuoth the vizier, 'What is the weight of the elephant?' The\nmerchant was perplexed and returned him no answer and gave\nhimself up for lost. Then said he, 'Grant me three days' time.'\nSo the vizier granted him the delay he sought and he returned to\nhis lodging and related what had passed to the old woman, who\nsaid, 'When the morrow cometh, go to the vizier and say to him,\n\"Make a ship and launch it on the sea and put in it an elephant,\nand when it sinketh in the water, [under the beast's weight],\nmark the place to which the water riseth. Then take out the\nelephant and cast in stones in its place, till the ship sink to\nthe mark aforesaid; whereupon do thou take out the stones and\nweigh them and thou wilt know the weight of the elephant\"'\n\nSo, when he arose in the morning, he repaired to the vizier and\nrepeated to him that which the old woman had taught him; whereat\nthe vizier marvelled and said to him, 'What sayst thou of a man,\nwho seeth in his house four holes, and in each a viper offering\nto come out and kill him, and in his house are four staves and\neach hole may not be stopped but with the ends of two staves? How\nshall he stop all the holes and deliver himself from the vipers?'\nWhen the merchant heard this, there betided him [of concern] what\nmade him forget the first and he said to the vizier, 'Grant me\ntime, so I may consider the answer.' 'Go out,' replied the\nvizier, 'and bring me the answer, or I will seize thy good.'\n\nThe merchant went out and returned to the old woman, who, seeing\nhim changed of colour, said to him, 'What did he ask thee, [may\nGod confound] his hoariness?' So he acquainted her with the case\nand she said to him, 'Fear not; I will bring thee forth of this\n[strait].' Quoth he, 'God requite thee with good!' And she said,\n'To-morrow go to him with a stout heart and say, \"The answer to\nthat whereof thou askest me is that thou put the heads of two\nstaves into one of the holes; then take the other two staves and\nlay them across the middle of the first two and stop with their\nheads the second hole and with their butts the fourth hole. Then\ntake the butts of the first two staves and stop with them the\nthird hole.\"'[FN#232]\n\nSo he repaired to the vizier and repeated to him the answer; and\nhe marvelled at its justness and said to him, 'Go; by Allah, I\nwill ask thee no more questions, for thou with thy skill marrest\nmy foundation.'[FN#233] Then he entreated him friendly and the\nmerchant acquainted him with the affair of the old woman;\nwhereupon quoth the vizier, 'Needs must the man of understanding\ncompany with those of understanding.' Thus did this weak woman\nrestore to that man his life and good on the easiest wise. Nor,\"\nadded the vizier, \"is this more extraordinary than the story of\nthe credulous husband.\"\n\nWhen the king heard this story, he said, \"How like is this to our\nown case!\" Then he bade the vizier retire to his lodging; so he\nwithdrew to his house and on the morrow he abode at home [till\nthe king should summon him to his presence.]\n\n                 The Ninth Night of the Month.\n\nWhen the night came, the king sat in his privy chamber and\nsending after the vizier, sought of him the promised story; and\nhe said, \"Know, O august king, that\n\n\n\n\n\n                 STORY OF THE CREDULOUS HUSBAND\n\n\n\nThere was once of old time a foolish, ignorant man, who had\nwealth galore, and his wife was a fair woman, who loved a\nhandsome youth. The latter used to watch for her husband's\nabsence and come to her, and on this wise he abode a long while.\nOne day, as the woman was private with her lover, he said to her,\n'O my lady and my beloved, if thou desire me and love me, give me\npossession of thyself and accomplish my need in thy husband's\npresence; else will I never again come to thee nor draw near\nthee, what while I abide on life.' Now she loved him with an\nexceeding love and could not brook his separation an hour nor\ncould endure to vex him; so, when she heard his words, she said\nto him, ['So be it,] in God's name, O my beloved and solace of\nmine eyes, may he not live who would vex thee!' Quoth he,\n'To-day?' And she said, 'Yes, by thy life,' and appointed him of\nthis.\n\nWhen her husband came home, she said to him, 'I desire to go\na-pleasuring.' And he said, ' With all my heart.' So he went,\ntill he came to a goodly place, abounding in vines and water,\nwhither he carried her and pitched her a tent beside a great\ntree; and she betook herself to a place beside the tent and made\nher there an underground hiding-place, [in which she hid her\nlover]. Then said she to her husband, 'I desire to mount this\ntree.' And he said, 'Do so.' So she climbed up and when she came\nto the top of the tree, she cried out and buffeted her face,\nsaying, 'Lewd fellow that thou art, are these thy usages? Thou\nsworest [fidelity to me] and liedst.' And she repeated her speech\ntwice and thrice.\n\nThen she came down from the tree and rent her clothes and said,\n'O villain, if these be thy dealings with me before my eyes, how\ndost thou when thou art absent from me?' Quoth he, 'What aileth\nthee?' and she said, 'I saw thee swive the woman before my very\neyes.' 'Not so, by Allah!' cried he. 'But hold thy peace till I\ngo up and see.' So he climbed the tree and no sooner did he begin\nto do so than up came the lover [from his hiding-place] and\ntaking the woman by the legs, [fell to swiving her]. When the\nhusband came to the top of the tree, he looked and beheld a man\nswiving his wife. So he said, 'O strumpet, what doings are\nthese?' And he made haste to come down from the tree to the\nground; [but meanwhile the lover had returned to his hiding-\nplace] and his wife said to him, 'What sawest thou?' 'I saw a man\nswive thee,' answered he; and she said, 'Thou liest; thou sawest\nnought and sayst this but of conjecture.'\n\nOn this wise they did three times, and every time [he climbed the\ntree] the lover came up out of the underground place and bestrode\nher, whilst her husband looked on and she still said, 'O liar,\nseest thou aught?' 'Yes,' would he answer and came down in haste,\nbut saw no one and she said to him, 'By my life, look and say\nnought but the truth!' Then said he to her, 'Arise, let us depart\nthis place,[FN#234] for it is full of Jinn and Marids.' [So they\nreturned to their house] and passed the night [there] and the man\narose in the morning, assured that this was all but imagination\nand illusion. And so the lover accomplished his desire.[FN#235]\nNor, O king of the age,\" added the vizier, \"is this more\nextraordinary than the story of the king and the tither.\"\n\nWhen the king heard this from the vizier, he bade him go away\n[and he withdrew to his house].\n\n                 The Tenth Night of the Month.\n\nWhen it was eventide, the king summoned the vizier and sought of\nhim the story of the King and the Tither, and he said, \"Know, O\nking, that\n\n\n\n\n\n            STORY OF THE UNJUST KING AND THE TITHER.\n\n\n\nThere was once a king of the kings of the earth, who dwelt in a\npopulous[FN#236] city, abounding in good; but he oppressed its\npeople and used them foully, so that he ruined[FN#237] the city;\nand he was named none other than tyrant and misdoer. Now he was\nwont, whenas he heard of a masterful man[FN#238] in another land,\nto send after him and tempt him with money to take service with\nhim; and there was a certain tither, who exceeded all his\nbrethren in oppression of the people and foulness of dealing. So\nthe king sent after him and when he stood before him, he found\nhim a mighty man[FN#239] and said to him, 'Thou hast been praised\nto me, but meseemeth thou overpassest the description. Set out to\nme somewhat of thy sayings and doings, so I may be dispensed\ntherewith from [enquiring into] all thy circumstance.' 'With all\nmy heart,' answered the other. 'Know, O king, that I oppress the\nfolk and people[FN#240] the land, whilst other than I\nwasteth[FN#241] it and peopleth it not.'\n\nNow the king was leaning back; so he sat up and said, 'Tell me of\nthis.' 'It is well,' answered the tither. 'I go to the man whom I\npurpose to tithe and circumvent him and feign to be occupied with\ncertain business, so that I seclude myself therewith from the\nfolk; and meanwhile the man is squeezed after the foulest\nfashion, till nothing is left him. Then I appear and they come in\nto me and questions befall concerning him and I say, \"Indeed, I\nwas ordered worse than this, for some one (may God curse him!)\nhath slandered him to the king.\" Then I take half of his good and\nreturn him the rest publicly before the folk and send him away to\nhis house, in all honour and worship, and he causeth the money\nreturned to be carried before him, whilst he and all who are with\nhim call down blessings on me. So is it published in the city\nthat I have returned him his money and he himself saith the like,\nso he may have a claim on me for the favour due to whoso praiseth\nme. Then I feign to forget him till some time[FN#242] hath passed\nover him, when I send for him and recall to him somewhat of that\nwhich hath befallen aforetime and demand [of him] somewhat\nprivily. So he doth this and hasteneth to his dwelling and\nsendeth what I bid him, with a glad heart. Then I send to another\nman, between whom and the other is enmity, and lay hands upon him\nand feign to the first man that it is he who hath traduced him to\nthe king and taken the half of his good; and the people praise\nme.'[FN#243]\n\nThe king marvelled at this and at his dealing and contrivance and\ninvested him with [the control of] all his affairs and of his\nkingdom and the land abode [under his governance] and he said to\nhim, 'Take and people.'[FN#244] One day, the tither went out and\nsaw an old man, a woodcutter, and with him wood; so he said to\nhim, 'Pay a dirhem tithe for thy load.' Quoth the old man,\n'Behold, thou killest me and killest my family.' 'What [meanest\nthou]?' said the tither. 'Who killeth the folk?' And the other\nanswered, 'If thou suffer me enter the city, I shall sell the\nwood there for three dirhems, whereof I will give thee one and\nbuy with the other two what will support my family; but, if thou\npress me for the tithe without the city, the load will sell but\nfor one dirhem and thou wilt take it and I shall abide without\nfood, I and my family. Indeed, thou and I in this circumstance\nare like unto David and Solomon, on whom be peace!' ['How so?'\nasked the tither, and the woodcutter said], 'Know that\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                  STORY OF DAVID AND SOLOMON.\n\n\n\nCertain husbandmen once made complaint to David (on whom be\npeace!) against certain owners of sheep, whose flocks had fallen\nupon their crops by night and devoured them, and he bade value\nthe crops [and that the shepherds should make good the amount].\nBut Solomon (on whom be peace!) rose and said, \"Nay, but let the\nsheep be delivered to the husbandmen, so they may take their milk\nand wool, till they have repaid themselves the value of their\ncrops; then let the sheep return to their owners.\" So David\nwithdrew his own ordinance and caused execute that of Solomon;\nyet was David no oppressor; but Solomon's judgment was more\npertinent and he showed himself therein better versed in\njurisprudence.'[FN#245]\n\nWhen the tither heard the old man's speech, he relented towards\nhim and said to him, 'O old man, I make thee a present of that\nwhich is due from thee, and do thou cleave to me and leave me\nnot, so haply I may get of thee profit that shall do away from me\nmy errors and guide me into the way of righteousness.' So the old\nman followed him, and there met him another with a load of wood.\nQuoth the tither to him, 'Pay what is due from thee.' And he\nanswered, 'Have patience with me till to-morrow, for I owe the\nhire of a house, and I will sell another load of wood and pay\nthee two days' tithe.' But he refused him this and the old man\nsaid to him, 'If thou constrain him unto this, thou wilt enforce\nhim quit thy country, for that he is a stranger here and hath no\ndomicile; and if he remove on account of one dirhem, thou wilt\nlose [of him] three hundred and threescore dirhems a year. Thus\nwilt thou lose the much in keeping the little.' Quoth the tither,\n'I give him a dirhem every month to the hire of his lodging.'\n\nThen he went on and presently there met him a third woodcutter\nand he said to him, 'Pay what is due from thee.' And he answered,\n'I will pay thee a dirhem when I enter the city; or take of me\nfour danics[FN#246] [now].' Quoth the tither, 'I will not do it,'\nbut the old man said to him, 'Take of him the four danics\npresently, for it is easy to take and hard to restore.' 'By\nAllah,' quoth the tither, 'it is good!' and he arose and went on,\ncrying out, at the top of his voice and saying, 'I have no power\nto-day [to do evil].' Then he put off his clothes and went forth\nwandering at a venture, repenting unto his Lord. Nor,\" added the\nvizier, \"is this story more extraordinary than that of the thief\nwho believed the woman and sought refuge with God against falling\nin with her like, by reason of her cunning contrivance for\nherself.\"\n\nWhen the king heard this, he said in himself, \"Since the tither\nrepented, in consequence of the admonitions [of the woodcutter],\nit behoves that I spare this vizier, so I may hear the story of\nthe thief and the woman.\" And he bade Er Rehwan withdraw to his\nlodging.\n\n                The Eleventh Night of the Month.\n\nWhen the evening came and the king sat in his privy chamber, he\nsummoned the vizier and required of him the story of the thief\nand the woman. Quoth the vizier, \"Know, O king, that\n\n\n\n\n\n               STORY OF THE THIEF AND THE WOMAN.\n\n\n\nA certain thief was a [cunning] workman and used not to steal\naught, till he had spent all that was with him; moreover, he\nstole not from his neighbours, neither companied with any of the\nthieves, lest some one should come to know him and his case get\nwind. On this wise he abode a great while, in flourishing case,\nand his secret was concealed, till God the Most High decreed that\nhe broke in upon a poor man, deeming that he was rich. When he\nentered the house, he found nought, whereat he was wroth, and\nnecessity prompted him to wake the man, who was asleep with his\nwife. So he aroused him and said to him, 'Show me thy treasure.'\n\nNow he had no treasure; but the thief believed him not and\ninsisted upon him with threats and blows. When he saw that he got\nno profit of him, he said to him, 'Swear by the oath of divorce\nfrom thy wife[FN#247] [that thou hast nothing].' So he swore and\nhis wife said to him, 'Out on thee! Wilt thou divorce me? Is not\nthe treasure buried in yonder chamber?' Then she turned to the\nthief and conjured him to multiply blows upon her husband, till\nhe should deliver to him the treasure, concerning which he had\nsworn falsely. So he drubbed him grievously, till he carried him\nto a certain chamber, wherein she signed to him that the treasure\nwas and that he should take it up.\n\nSo the thief entered, he and the husband; and when they were both\nin the chamber, she locked on them the door, which was a stout\none, and said to the thief, 'Out on thee, O fool! Thou hast\nfallen [into the trap] and now I have but to cry out and the\nofficers of the police will come and take thee and thou wilt lose\nthy life, O Satan!' Quoth he, 'Let me go forth;' and she said,\n'Thou art a man and I am a woman; and in thy hand is a knife and\nI am afraid of thee.' Quoth he, 'Take the knife from me.' So she\ntook the knife from him and said to her husband, 'Art thou a\nwoman and he a man? Mar his nape with beating, even as he did\nwith thee; and if he put out his hand to thee, I will cry out and\nthe police will come and take him and cut him in sunder.' So the\nhusband said to him, 'O thousand-horned,[FN#248] O dog, O\ntraitor, I owe thee a deposit,[FN#249] for which thou dunnest\nme.' And he fell to beating him grievously with a stick of\nlive-oak, whilst he called out to the woman for help and besought\nher of deliverance; but she said, 'Abide in thy place till the\nmorning, and thou shalt see wonders.' And her husband beat him\nwithin the chamber, till he [well- nigh] made an end of him and\nhe swooned away.\n\nThen he left beating him and when the thief came to himself, the\nwoman said to her husband, 'O man, this house is on hire and we\nowe its owners much money, and we have nought; so how wilt thou\ndo?' And she went on to bespeak him thus. Quoth the thief, 'And\nwhat is the amount of the rent?' 'It will be fourscore dirhems,'\nanswered the husband; and the thief said, 'I will pay this for\nthee and do thou let me go my way.' Then said the wife, 'O man,\nhow much do we owe the baker and the greengrocer?' Quoth the\nthief, 'What is the sum of this?' And the husband said, 'Sixscore\ndirhems.' 'That makes two hundred dirhems,' rejoined the other;\n'let me go my way and I will pay them.' But the wife said, 'O my\ndear one, and the girl groweth up and needs must we marry her and\nequip her and [do] what else is needful' So the thief said to the\nhusband, 'How much dost thou want?' And he answered, 'A hundred\ndirhems, in the way of moderation.'[FN#250] Quoth the thief,\n'That makes three hundred dirhems.' And the woman said, 'O my\ndear one, when the girl is married, thou wilt need money for\nwinter expenses, charcoal and firewood and other necessaries.'\n'What wouldst thou have?' asked the thief; and she said, 'A\nhundred dirhems.' 'Be it four hundred dirhems,' rejoined he; and\nshe said, 'O my dear one and solace of mine eyes, needs must my\nhusband have capital in hand, wherewith he may buy merchandise\nand open him a shop.' 'How much will that be?' asked he, and she\nsaid, 'A hundred dirhems.' Quoth the thief, '[That makes five\nhundred dirhems; I will pay it;] but may I be divorced from my\nwife if all my possessions amount to more than this, and that the\nsavings of twenty years! Let me go my way, so I may deliver them\nto thee.' 'O fool,' answered she, 'how shall I let thee go thy\nway? Give me a right token.' [So he gave her a token for his\nwife] and she cried out to her young daughter and said to her,\n'Keep this door.'\n\nThen she charged her husband keep watch over the thief, till she\nshould return, and repairing to his wife, acquainted her with his\ncase and told her that her husband the thief had been taken and\nhad compounded for his release, at the price of seven hundred\ndirhems, and named to her the token. So she gave her the money\nand she took it and returned to her house. By this time, the dawn\nhad broken; so she let the thief go his way, and when he went\nout, she said to him, 'O my dear one, when shall I see thee come\nand take the treasure?' 'O indebted one,' answered he, 'when thou\nneedest other seven hundred dirhems, wherewithal to amend thy\ncase and that of thy children and to discharge thy debts.' And he\nwent out, hardly believing in his deliverance from her. Nor,\"\nadded the vizier, \"is this more extraordinary than the story of\nthe three men and our Lord Jesus.\"\n\nAnd the king bade him depart to his own house.\n\n                The Twelfth Night of the Month.\n\nWhen it was eventide, the king summoned the vizier and bade him\ntell the [promised] story, \"Hearkening and obedience,\" answered\nhe. \"Know, O king, that\n\n\n\n\n\n           STORY OF THE THREE MEN AND OUR LORD JESUS.\n\n\n\nThree men once went out in quest of riches and came upon a block\nof gold, weighing a hundred pounds. When they saw it, they took\nit up on their shoulders and fared on with it, till they drew\nnear a certain city, when one of them said, 'Let us sit in the\nmosque, whilst one of us goes and buys us what we may eat.\" So\nthey sat down in the mosque and one of them arose and entered the\ncity. When he came therein, his soul prompted him to play his\nfellows false and get the gold for himself alone. So he bought\nfood and poisoned it; but, when he returned to his comrades, they\nfell upon him and slew him, so they might enjoy the gold without\nhim. Then they ate of the [poisoned] food and died, and the gold\nabode cast down over against them.\n\nPresently, Jesus, son of Mary (on whom be peace!) passed by and\nseeing this, besought God the Most High for tidings of their\ncase; so He told him what had betided them, whereat great was his\nwonderment and he related to his disciples what he had seen.\nQuoth one of them, 'O Spirit of God,[FN#251] nought resembleth\nthis but my own story.' 'How so?' asked Jesus, and the other\nsaid,\n\n\n\n\n                     THE DISCIPLE'S STORY.\n\n\n\n'I was aforetime in such a city and hid a thousand dirhems in a\nmonastery there. After awhile, I went thither and taking the\nmoney, bound it about my middle. [Then I set out to return] and\nwhen I came to the desert, the carrying of the money was\nburdensome to me. Presently, I espied a horseman pricking after\nme; so I [waited till he came up and] said to him, \"O horseman,\ncarry this money [for me] and earn reward and recompense [from\nGod].\" \"Nay,\" answered he; \"I will not do it, for I should weary\nmyself and weary my horse.\" Then he went on, but, before he had\ngone far, he said in himself, \"If I take up the money and spur my\nhorse and forego him, how shall he overtake me?\" And I also said\nin myself, \"Verily, I erred [in asking him to carry the money];\nfor, had he taken it and made off, I could have done nought.\"\nThen he turned back to me and said to me, \"Hand over the money,\nthat I may carry it for thee.\" But I answered him, saying, \"That\nwhich hath occurred to thy mind hath occurred to mine also; so go\nin peace.\"'\n\nQuoth Jesus (on whom be peace!), 'Had these dealt prudently, they\nhad taken thought for themselves; but they neglected the issues\nof events; for that whoso acteth prudently is safe and\nconquereth,[FN#252] and whoso neglecteth precaution perisheth and\nrepenteth.' Nor,\" added the vizier,\" is this more extraordinary\nnor goodlier than the story of the king, whose kingdom was\nrestored to him and his wealth, after he had become poor,\npossessing not a single dirhem.\"\n\nWhen the king heard this, he said in himself \"How like is this to\nmy own story in the matter of the vizier and his slaughter! Had I\nnot used precaution, I had put him to death.\" And he bade Er\nRehwan depart to his own house.\n\n               The Thirteenth Night of the Month.\n\nWhen the evening evened, the king sent for the vizier to his\nprivy sitting chamber and bade him [tell] the [promised] story.\nSo he said, \"Hearkening and obedience. They avouch, O king, that\n\n\n\n\n\n               STORY OF THE DETHRONED KING WHOSE\n             KINGDOM AND GOOD WERE RESTORED TO HIM.\n\n\n\nThere was once, in a city of Hind, a just and beneficent king,\nand he had a vizier, a man of understanding, just in his\njudgment, praiseworthy in his policy, in whose hand was the\ngovernance of all the affairs of the realm; for he was firmly\nstablished in the king's favour and high in esteem with the folk\nof his time, and the king set great store by him and committed\nhimself to him in all his affairs, by reason of his contrivance\nfor his subjects, and he had helpers[FN#253] who were content\nwith him.\n\nNow the king had a brother, who envied him and would fain have\nbeen in his place; and when he was weary of looking for his death\nand the term of his life seemed distant unto him, he took counsel\nwith certain of his partisans and they said, 'The vizier is the\nking's counsellor and but for him, there would be left the king\nno kingdom.' So the king's brother cast about for the ruin of the\nvizier, but could find no means of accomplishing his design; and\nwhen the affair grew long upon him, he said to his wife, 'What\ndeemest thou will advantage us in this?' Quoth she, 'What is it?'\nAnd he replied, 'I mean in the matter of yonder vizier, who\ninciteth my brother to devoutness with all his might and biddeth\nhim thereto, and indeed the king is infatuated with his counsel\nand committeth to him the governance of all things and matters.'\nQuoth she, 'Thou sayst truly; but how shall we do with him?' And\nhe answered, 'I have a device, so thou wilt help me in that which\nI shall say to thee.' Quoth she, 'Thou shall have my help in\nwhatsoever thou desirest.' And he said, 'I mean to dig him a pit\nin the vestibule and dissemble it artfully.'\n\nSo he did this, and when it was night, he covered the pit with a\nlight covering, so that, whenas the vizier stepped upon it, it\nwould give way with him. Then he sent to him and summoned him to\nthe presence in the king's name, and the messenger bade him enter\nby the privy door. So he entered in thereat, alone, and when he\nstepped upon the covering of the pit, it gave way with him and he\nfell to the bottom; whereupon the king's brother fell to pelting\nhim with stones. When the vizier saw what had betided him, he\ngave himself up for lost; so he stirred not and lay still. The\nprince, seeing him make no motion, [deemed him dead]; so he took\nhim forth and wrapping him up in his clothes, cast him into the\nbillows of the sea in the middle of the night. When the vizier\nfelt the water, he awoke from the swoon and swam awhile, till a\nship passed by him, whereupon he cried out to the sailors and\nthey took him up.\n\nWhen the morning morrowed, the people went seeking for him, but\nfound him not; and when the king knew this, he was perplexed\nconcerning his affair and abode unknowing what he should do. Then\nhe sought for a vizier to fill his room, and the king's brother\nsaid, 'I have a vizier, a sufficient man.' 'Bring him to me,'\nsaid the king. So he brought him a man, whom he set at the head\nof affairs; but he seized upon the kingdom and clapped the king\nin irons and made his brother king in his stead. The new king\ngave himself up to all manner of wickedness, whereat the folk\nmurmured and his vizier said to him, 'I fear lest the Indians\ntake the old king and restore him to the kingship and we both\nperish; wherefore, if we take him and cast him into the sea, we\nshall be at rest from him; and we will publish among the folk\nthat he is dead.' And they agreed upon this. So they took him up\nand carrying him out to sea, cast him in.\n\nWhen he felt the water, he struck out, and gave not over swimming\ntill he landed upon an island, where he abode five days, finding\nnothing which he might eat or drink; but, on the sixth day, when\nhe despaired of himself, he caught sight of a passing ship; so he\nmade signals to the crew and they came and took him up and fared\non with him to an inhabited country, where they set him ashore,\nnaked as he was. There he saw a man tilling; so he sought\nguidance of him and the husbandman said, 'Art thou a stranger?'\n'Yes,' answered the king and sat with him and they talked. The\nhusbandman found him quickwitted and intelligent and said to him,\n'If thou sawest a comrade of mine, thou wouldst see him the like\nof what I see thee, for his case is even as thy case, and he is\npresently my friend.'\n\nQuoth the king, 'Verily, thou makest me long to see him. Canst\nthou not bring us together?' 'With all my heart,' answered the\nhusbandman, and the king sat with him till he had made an end of\nhis tillage, when he carried him to his dwelling-place and\nbrought him in company with the other stranger, aud behold, it\nwas his vizier. When they saw each other, they wept and embraced,\nand the husbandman wept for their weeping; but the king concealed\ntheir affair and said to him, 'This is a man from my country and\nhe is as my brother.' So they abode with the husbandman and\nhelped him for a wage, wherewith they supported themselves a long\nwhile. Meanwhile, they sought news of their country and learned\nthat which its people suffered of straitness and oppression.\n\nOne day, there came a ship and in it a merchant from their own\ncountry, who knew them and rejoiced in them with an exceeding joy\nand clad them in goodly apparel. Moreover, he acquainted them\nwith the manner of the treachery that had been practised upon\nthem and counselled them to return to their own land, they and he\nwith whom they had made friends,[FN#254] assuring them that God\nthe Most High would restore them to their former estate. So the\nking returned and the folk joined themselves to him and he fell\nupon his brother and his vizier and took them and clapped them in\nprison.\n\nThen he sat down again upon the throne of his kingship, whilst\nthe vizier stood before him, and they returned to their former\nestate, but they had nought of the [goods of the world]. So the\nking said to his vizier, 'How shall we avail to abide in this\ncity, and we in this state of poverty?' And he answered, 'Be at\nthine ease and have no concern.' Then he singled out one of the\nsoldiers[FN#255] and said to him, 'Send us thy service[FN#256]\nfor the year.' Now there were in the city fifty thousand\nsubjects[FN#257] and in the hamlets and villages a like number;\nand the vizier sent to each of these, saying, 'Let each of you\nget an egg and lay it under a hen.' So they did this and it was\nneither burden nor grievance to them.\n\nWhen twenty days had passed by, each [egg] was hatched, and the\nvizier bade them pair the chickens, male and female, and rear\nthem well. So they did this and it was found a charge unto no\none. Then they waited for them awhile and after this the vizier\nenquired of the chickens and was told that they were become\nfowls. Moreover, they brought him all their eggs and he bade set\nthem; and after twenty days there were hatched from each [pair]\nof them thirty or five-and-twenty or fifteen [chickens] at the\nleast. The vizier let note against each man the number of\nchickens that pertained to him, and after two months, he took the\nold hens and the cockerels, and there came to him from each man\nnigh half a score, and he left the [young] hens with them. On\nlike wise he sent to the country folk and let the cocks abide\nwith them. So he got him young ones [galore] and appropriated to\nhimself the sale of the fowls, and on this wise he got him, in\nthe course of a year, that which the regal estate required of the\nking and his affairs were set right for him by the vizier's\ncontrivance. And he peopled[FN#258] the country and dealt justly\nby his subjects and returned to them all that he took from them\nand lived a happy and prosperous life. Thus good judgment and\nprudence are better than wealth, for that understanding profiteth\nat all times and seasons. Nor,\" added the vizier, \"is this more\nextraordinary than the story of the man whose caution slew him.\"\n\nWhen the king heard his vizier's words, he marvelled with the\nutmost wonderment and bade him retire to his lodging. [So Er\nRehwan withdrew to his house and abode there till eventide of the\nnext day, when he again presented himself before the king.]\n\n               The Fourteenth Night of the Month.\n\nWhen the vizier returned to the king, the latter sought of him\nthe story of the man whose caution slew him and be said, \"Know, O\naugust king, that\n\n\n\n\n\n             STORY OF THE MAN WHOSE CAUTION WAS THE\n                      CAUSE OF HIS DEATH.\n\n\n\nThere was once a man who was exceeding cautious over himself, and\nhe set out one day on a journey to a land abounding in wild\nbeasts. The caravan wherein he was came by night to the gate of a\ncity; but the warders refused to open to them; so they passed the\nnight without the city, and there were lions there. The man\naforesaid, of the excess of his caution, could not fix upon a\nplace wherein he should pass the night, for fear of the wild\nbeasts and reptiles; so he went about seeking an empty place\nwherein he might lie.\n\nNow there was a ruined building hard by and he climbed up on to a\nhigh wall and gave not over clambering hither and thither, of the\nexcess of his carefulness, till his feet betrayed him and he\nslipped [and fell] to the bottom and died, whilst his companions\narose in the morning in health [and weal]. Now, if he had\novermastered his corrupt[FN#259] judgment and submitted himself\nto fate and fortune fore-ordained, it had been safer and better\n[for him]; but he made light of the folk and belittled their wit\nand was not content to take example by them; for his soul\nwhispered him that he was a man of understanding and he imagined\nthat, if he abode with them, he would perish; so his folly cast\nhim into perdition. Nor,\" added the vizier, \"is this more\nextraordinary than the story of the man who was lavish of his\nhouse and his victual to one whom he knew not\"\n\nWhen the king heard this, he said, \"I will not isolate myself\nfrom the folk and slay my vizier.\" And he bade him depart to his\ndwelling.\n\n               The Fifteenth Night of the Month.\n\nWhen the evening evened, the king let fetch the vizier and\nrequired of him the [promised] story. So he said, \"Know, O king,\nthat\n\n\n\n\n\n             STORY OF THE MAN WHO WAS LAVISH OF HIS\n              HOUSE AND HIS VICTUAL TO ONE WHOM HE\n                           KNEW NOT.\n\n\n\nThere was once an Arab of [high] rank and [goodly] presence, a\nman of exalted generosity and magnanimity, and he had brethren,\nwith whom he consorted and caroused, and they were wont to\nassemble by turns in each other's houses. When it came to his\nturn, he made ready in his house all manner goodly and pleasant\nmeats and dainty drinks and exceeding lovely flowers and\nexcellent fruits, and made provision of all kinds of instruments\nof music and store of rare apothegms and marvellous stories and\ngoodly instances and histories and witty anedotes and verses and\nwhat not else, for there was none among those with whom he was\nused to company but enjoyed this on every goodly wise, and in the\nentertainment he had provided was all whereof each had need. Then\nhe sallied forth and went round about the city, in quest of his\nfriends, so he might assemble them; but found none of them in his\nhouse.\n\nNow in that town was a man of good breeding and large generosity,\na merchant of condition, young of years and bright of face, who\nhad come to that town from his own country with great store of\nmerchandise and wealth galore. He took up his abode therein and\nthe place was pleasant to him and he was lavish in expenditure,\nso that he came to the end of all his good and there remained\nwith him nothing save that which was upon him of raiment. So he\nleft the lodging wherein he had abidden in the days of his\naffluence, after he had wasted[FN#260] that which was therein of\nfurniture, and fell to harbouring in the houses of the townsfolk\nfrom night to night.\n\nOne day, as he went wandering about the streets, he espied a\nwoman of the utmost beauty and grace, and what he saw of her\ncharms amazed him and there betided him what made him forget his\npresent plight. She accosted him and jested with him and he\nbesought her of foregathering and companionship. She consented to\nthis and said to him, 'Let us go to thy lodging.' With this he\nrepented and was perplexed concerning his affair and grieved for\nthat which must escape him of her company by reason of the\nstraitness of his hand,[FN#261] for that he had no jot of\nspending money. But he was ashamed to say, 'No,' after he had\nmade suit to her; so he went on before her, bethinking him how he\nshould rid himself of her and casting about for an excuse which\nhe might put off on her, and gave not over going from street to\nstreet, till he entered one that had no issue and saw, at the\nfarther end, a door, whereon was a padlock.\n\nSo he said to her, 'Do thou excuse me, for my servant hath locked\nthe door, and who shall open to us?' Quoth she, 'O my lord, the\npadlock is worth [but] half a score dirhems.' So saying, she\ntucked up [her sleeves] from fore-arms as they were crystal and\ntaking a stone, smote upon the padlock and broke it. Then she\nopened the door and said to him, 'Enter, O my lord.' So he\nentered, committing his affair to God, (to whom belong might and\nmajesty,) and she entered after him and locked the door from\nwithin. They found themselves in a pleasant house, comprising\nall[FN#262] weal and gladness; and the young man went on, till he\ncame to the sitting-chamber, and behold, it was furnished with\nthe finest of furniture [and arrayed on the goodliest wise for\nthe reception of guests,] as hath before been set out, [for that\nit was the house of the man aforesaid].\n\nHe [seated himself on the divan and] leant upon a cushion, whilst\nshe put out her hand to her veil and did it off. Then she put off\nher heavy outer clothes and discovered her charms, whereupon he\nembraced her and kissed her and swived her; after which they\nwashed and returned to their place and he said to her, 'Know that\nI have little knowledge [of what goes on] in my house, for that I\ntrust to my servant; so arise thou and see what the boy hath made\nready in the kitchen.' Accordingly, she arose and going down into\nthe kitchen, saw cooking pots over the fire, wherein were all\nmanner of dainty meats, and manchet-bread and fresh\nalmond-and-honey cakes. So she set bread on a dish and ladled out\n[what she would] from the pots and brought it to him.\n\nThey ate and drank and sported and made merry awhile of the day;\nand as they were thus engaged, up came the master of the house,\nwith his friends, whom he had brought with him, that they might\ncarouse together, as of wont. He saw the door opened and knocked\nlightly, saying to his friends, 'Have patience with me, for some\nof my family are come to visit me; wherefore excuse belongeth\n[first] to God the Most High, and then to you.'[FN#263] So they\ntook leave of him and went their ways, whilst he gave another\nlight knock at the door. When the young man heard this, he\nchanged colour and the woman said to him, 'Methinks thy servant\nhath returned.' 'Yes,' answered he; and she arose and opening the\ndoor to the master of the house, said to him, 'Where hast thou\nbeen? Indeed, thy master is wroth with thee.' 'O my lady,'\nanswered he, 'I have but been about his occasions.'\n\nThen he girt his middle with a handkerchief and entering, saluted\nthe young merchant, who said to him, 'Where hast thou been?'\nQuoth he, 'I have done thine errands;' and the youth said, 'Go\nand eat and come hither and drink.' So he went away, as he bade\nhim, and ate. Then he washed and returning to the saloon, sat\ndown on the carpet and fell to talking with them; whereupon the\nyoung merchant's heart was comforted and his breast dilated and\nhe addressed himself to joyance. They abode in the most\ndelightsome life and the most abounding pleasance till a third\npart of the night was past, when the master of the house arose\nand spreading them a bed, invited them to lie down. So they lay\ndown and the youth abode on wake, pondering their affair, till\ndaybreak, when the woman awoke and said to her companion, 'I wish\nto go.' So he bade her farewell and she departed; whereupon the\nmaster of the house followed her with a purse of money and gave\nit to her, saying, 'Blame not my master,' and made his excuse to\nher for the young merchant.\n\nThen he returned to the youth and said to him, 'Arise and come to\nthe bath.' And he fell to shampooing his hands and feet, whilst\nthe youth called down blessings on him and said, 'O my lord, who\nart thou? Methinks there is not in the world the like of thee,\nno, nor a pleasanter than thy composition.' Then each of them\nacquainted the other with his case and condition and they went to\nthe bath; after which the master of the house conjured the young\nmerchant to return with him and summoned his friends. So they ate\nand drank and he related to them the story, wherefore they\npraised the master of the house and glorified him; and their\nfriendship was complete, what while the young merchant abode in\nthe town, till God vouchsafed him a commodity of travel,\nwhereupon they took leave of him and he departed; and this is the\nend of his story. Nor,\" added the vizier, \"O king of the age, is\nthis more marvellous than the story of the rich man who lost his\nwealth and his wit.\"\n\nWhen the king heard the vizier's story, it pleased him and he\nbade him go to his house.\n\n               The Sixteenth Night of the Month.\n\nWhen the evening evened, the king sat in his sitting- chamber and\nsending for his vizier, bade him relate the story of the wealthy\nman who lost his wealth and his wit. So he said, \"Know, O king,\nthat\n\n\n\n\n\n              STORY OF THE IDIOT AND THE SHARPER.\n\n\n\nThere was once a man of fortune, who lost his wealth, and chagrin\nand melancholy got the mastery of him, so that he became an idiot\nand lost his wit. There abode with him of his wealth about a\nscore of dinars and he used to beg alms of the folk, and that\nwhich they gave him he would gather together and lay to the\ndinars that were left him. Now there was in that town a vagabond,\nwho made his living by sharping, and he knew that the idiot had\nsomewhat of money; so he fell to spying upon him and gave not\nover watching him till he saw him put in an earthen pot that\nwhich he had with him of money and enter a deserted ruin, where\nhe sat down, [as if] to make water, and dug a hole, in which he\nlaid the pot and covering it up, strewed earth upon the place.\nThen he went away and the sharper came and taking what was in the\npot, covered it up again, as it was.\n\nPresently, the idiot returned, with somewhat to add to his hoard,\nbut found it not; so he bethought him who had followed him and\nremembered that he had found the sharper aforesaid assiduous in\nsitting with him and questioning him. So he went in quest of him,\nassured that he had taken the pot, and gave not over looking for\nhim till he espied him sitting; whereupon he ran to him and the\nsharper saw him. [Then the idiot stood within earshot] and\nmuttered to himself and said, 'In the pot are threescore dinars\nand I have with me other score in such a place and to-day I will\nunite the whole in the pot.' When the sharper heard him say this\nto himself, muttering and mumbling after his fashion, he repented\nhim of having taken the dinars and said, 'He will presently\nreturn to the pot and find it empty; wherefore that[FN#264] for\nwhich I am on the look-out will escape me; and meseemeth I were\nbest restore the dinars [to their place], so he may see them and\nleave all that is with him in the pot, and I can take the whole.'\n\nNow he feared [to return to the pot then and there], lest the\nidiot should follow him to the place and find nothing and so his\nplan be marred. So he said to him, 'O Ajlan,[FN#265] I would have\nthee come to my lodging and eat bread with me.\" So the idiot went\nwith him to his lodging and he seated him there and going to the\nmarket, sold somewhat of his clothes and pawned somewhat from his\nhouse and bought dainty food. Then he betook himself to the ruin\nand replacing the money in the pot, buried it again; after which\nhe returned to his lodging and gave the idiot to eat and drink,\nand they went out together. The sharper went away and hid\nhimself, lest the idiot should see him, whilst the latter\nrepaired to his hiding- place and took the pot\n\nPresently, the sharper came to the ruin, rejoicing in that which\nhe deemed he should get, and dug in the place, but found nothing\nand knew that the idiot had tricked him. So he buffeted his face,\nfor chagrin, and fell to following the other whithersoever he\nwent, so he might get what was with him, but availed not unto\nthis, for that the idiot knew what was in his mind and was\ncertified that he spied upon him, [with intent to rob him]; so he\nkept watch over himself. Now, if the sharper had considered [the\nconsequences of] haste and that which is begotten of loss\ntherefrom, he had not done thus. Nor,\" continued the vizier, \"is\nthis story, O king of the age, rarer or more extraordinary or\nmore diverting than the story of Khelbes and his wife and the\nlearned man and that which befell between them.\"\n\nWhen the king heard this story, he renounced his purpose of\nputting the vizier to death and his soul prompted him to continue\nhim on life. So he bade him go away to his house.\n\n              The Seventeenth Night of the Month.\n\nWhen the evening evened, the king summoned the vizier, and when\nhe presented himself, he required of him the [promised] story. So\nhe said, \"Hearkening and obedience. Know, O august king, that\n\n\n\n\n\n             STORY OF KHELBES AND HIS WIFE AND THE\n                          LEARNED MAN.\n\n\n\nThere was once a man hight Khelbes, who was a lewd fellow, a\ncalamity, notorious for this fashion, and he had a fair wife,\nrenowned for beauty and loveliness. A man of his townsfolk fell\nin love with her and she also loved him. Now Khelbes was a crafty\nfellow and full of tricks, and there was in his neighbourhood a\nlearned man, to whom the folk used to resort every day and he\ntold them stories and admonished them [with moral instances]; and\nKhelbes was wont to be present in his assembly, for the sake of\nmaking a show before the folk.\n\nNow this learned man had a wife renowned for beauty and\nloveliness and quickness of wit and understanding and the lover\ncast about for a device whereby he might win to Khelbes's wife;\nso he came to him and told him, as a secret, what he had seen of\nthe learned man's wife and confided to him that he was enamoured\nof her and besought him of help in this. Khelbes told him that\nshe was distinguished to the utterest for chastity and continence\nand that she exposed herself not to suspicion; but the other\nsaid, 'I cannot renounce her, [firstly,] because the woman\ninclineth to me and coveteth my wealth, and secondly, because of\nthe greatness of my love for her; and nothing is wanting but thy\nhelp.' Quoth Khelbes, 'I will do thy will;' and the other said,\n'Thou shalt have of me two dirhems a day, on condition that thou\nsit with the learned man and that, when he riseth from the\nassembly, thou speak a word notifying the breaking up of the\nsession.' So they agreed upon this and Khelbes entered and sat in\nthe assembly, whilst the lover was assured in his heart that the\nsecret was safe with him, wherefore he rejoiced and was content\nto pay the two dirhems.\n\nThen Khelbes used to attend the learned man's assembly, whilst\nthe other would go in to his wife and abide with her, on such\nwise as he thought good, till the learned man arose from his\nsession; and when Khelbes saw that he purposed rising, he would\nspeak a word for the lover to hear, whereupon he went forth from\nKhelbes's wife, and the latter knew not that calamity was in his\nown house. At last the learned man, seeing Khelbes do on this\nwise every day, began to misdoubt of him, more by token of that\nwhich he knew of his character, and suspicion grew upon him; so,\none day, he advanced the time of his rising before the wonted\nhour and hastening up to Khelbes, laid hold of him and said to\nhim, 'By Allah, an thou speak a single syllable, I will do thee a\nmischief!' Then he went in to his wife, with Khelbes in his\ngrasp, and behold, she was sitting, as of her wont, nor was there\nabout her aught of suspicious or unseemly.\n\nThe learned man bethought him awhile of this, then made for\nKhelbes's house, which adjoined his own, still holding the\nlatter; and when they entered, they found the young man lying on\nthe bed with Khelbes's wife; whereupon quoth he to him, 'O\naccursed one, the calamity is with thee and in thine own house!'\nSo Khelbes put away his wife and went forth, fleeing, and\nreturned not to his own land. This, then,\" continued the vizier,\n\"is the consequence of lewdness, for whoso purposeth in himself\ncraft and perfidy, they get possession of him, and had Khelbes\nconceived of himself that[FN#266] which he conceived of the folk\nof dishonour and calamity, there had betided him nothing of this.\nNor is this story, rare and extraordinary though it be, more\nextraordinary or rarer than that of the pious woman whose\nhusband's brother accused her of lewdness.\"\n\nWhen the king heard this, wonderment gat hold of him and his\nadmiration for the vizier redoubled; so he bade him go to his\nhouse and return to him [on the morrow], according to his wont.\nAccordingly, the vizier withdrew to his lodging, where he passed\nthe night and the ensuing day.\n\n\n\n\n\nEnd of Vol. I.\n\n\n\n\n                Tales from the Arabic, Volume 1\n                            Endnotes\n\n\n\n[FN#1]  Breslau Text, vol. iv. pp. 134-189, Nights\ncclxxii.-ccxci. This is the story familiar to readers of the old\n\"Arabian Nights\" as \"Abon Hassan, or the Sleeper Awakened\" and is\nthe only one of the eleven tales added by Galland to his version\nof the (incomplete) MS. of the Book of the Thousand Nights and\nOne Night procured by him from Syria, the Arabic original of\nwhich has yet been discovered. (See my \"Book of the Thousand\nNights and One Night,\" Vol. IX. pp. 264 et seq.) The above title\nis of course intended to mark the contrast between the everyday\n(or waking) hours of Aboulhusn and his fantastic life in the\nKhalif's palace, supposed by him to have passed in a dream, and\nmay also be rendered \"The Sleeper and the Waker.\"\n\n[FN#2]  i.e. The Wag.\n\n[FN#3]  Always noted for debauchery.\n\n[FN#4]  i.e. the part he had taken for spending money.\n\n[FN#5]  i.e. \"those,\" a characteristic Arab idiom.\n\n[FN#6]  Lit. draw thee near (to them).\n\n[FN#7]  i.e. that over the Tigris.\n\n[FN#8]  \"Platter bread,\" i.e. bread baked in a platter, instead\nof, as usual with the Arabs, in an oven or earthen jar previously\nheated, to the sides of which the thin cakes of dough are\napplied, \"is lighter than oven bread, especially if it be made\nthin and leavened.\"--Shecouri, a medical writer quoted by Dozy.\n\n[FN#9]  Or cooking-pots.\n\n[FN#10] Or fats for frying.\n\n[FN#11] Or clarified.\n\n[FN#12] Taam, lit. food, the name given by the inhabitants of\nNorthern Africa to the preparation of millet-flour (something\nlike semolina) called kouskoussou, which forms the staple food of\nthe people.\n\n[FN#13] Or \"In peace.\"\n\n[FN#14] Eastern peoples attach great importance, for good or evil\nomen, to the first person met or the first thing that happens in\nthe day.\n\n[FN#15] Or \"attributed as sin.\"\n\n[FN#16] A common Eastern substitute for soap.\n\n[FN#17] This common formula of assent is an abbreviation of\n\"Hearkening and obedience are due to God and to the Commander of\nthe Faithful\" or other the person addressed.\n\n[FN#18] Dar es Selam, one of the seven \"Gardens\" into which the\nMohammedan Paradise is divided.\n\n[FN#19] i.e. a mattrass eighteen inches thick.\n\n[FN#20] Complimentary form of address to eunuchs, generally used\nby inferiors only.\n\n[FN#21] The morning-prayer consists of four inclinations (rek\u00e4at)\nonly. A certain fixed succession of prayers and acts of adoration\nis called a rekah (sing, of rek\u00e4at) from the inclination of the\nbody that occurs in it.\n\n[FN#22] i.e. the terminal formula of prayer, \"Peace be on us and\non all the righteous servants of God!\"\n\n[FN#23] i.e. said \"I purpose to make an end of prayer.\"\n\n[FN#24] Or \"linen.\"\n\n[FN#25] A well-known poet of the time.\n\n[FN#26] i.e. Ibrahim of Mosul, the greatest musician of his day.\n\n[FN#27] i.e., doughty men of war, guards.\n\n[FN#28] The Abbaside Khalifs traced their descent from Abbas, the\nuncle of Mohammed, and considered themselves, therefore, as\nbelonging to the family of the Prophet.\n\n[FN#29] i.e. May thy dwelling-place never fall into ruin.\n\n[FN#30] i.e. the raised recess situate at the upper end of an\nOriental saloon, wherein is the place of honour.\n\n[FN#31] ie, the necromancers.\n\n[FN#32] Lit. I have not found that thou hast a heel blessed (or\npropitious) to me.\n\n[FN#33] i.e. O thou who art a calamity to those who have to do\nwith thee!\n\n[FN#34] Abou Nuwas ibn Hani, the greatest poet of the time.\n\n[FN#35] As a charm against evil spirits.\n\n[FN#36] i.e. the vein said to have been peculiar to the\ndescendants of Hashim, grandfather of Abbas and great-grandson of\nMohammed, and to have started out between their eyes in moments\nof anger.\n\n[FN#37] Lit. that I may do upon her sinister deeds.\n\n[FN#38] \"The pitcher comes not always back unbroken from the\nwell.\"--English proverb.\n\n[FN#39] i.e. of sorrow for his loss.\n\n[FN#40] i.e. of grief for her loss.\n\n[FN#41] Breslau Text, vol. vl. pp. 182-188, Nights\nccccxxxii-ccccxxxiv.\n\n[FN#42] The eighth Khalif (A.D. 717-720) of the house of Umeyyeh\nand the best and most single-hearted of all the Khalifs, with the\nexception of the second, Omar ben Khettab, from whom he was\ndescended.\n\n[FN#43] A celebrated statesman of the time, afterwards governor\nof Cuia* and Bassora under Omar ben Abdulaziz.\n\n[FN#44] The most renowned poet of the first century of the\nHegira. He is said to have been equally skilled in all styles of\ncomposition grave and gay.\n\n[FN#45] Or eternal.\n\n[FN#46] Or \"in him.\"\n\n[FN#47] Chief of the tribe of the Benou Suleim. Et Teberi tells\nthis story in a different way. According to him, Abbas ben Mirdas\n(who was a well-known poet), being dissatisfied with the portion\nof booty allotted to him by the Prophet, refused it and composed\na lampoon against Mohammed, who said to Ali, \"Cut off this tongue\nwhich attacketh me,\" i.e. \"Silence him by giving what will\nsatisfy him,\" whereupon Ali doubled the covetous chief's share.\n\n[FN#48] Bilal ibn Rebeh was the Prophet's freedman and crier. The\nword bilal signifies \"moisture\" or (metonymically) \"beneficence\"\nand it may well be in this sense (and not as a man's name) that\nit is used in the text.\n\n[FN#49] Said to have been the best poet ever produced by the\ntribe of Cureish. His introduction here is an anachronism, as he\ndied A.D. 712, five years before Omar's accession.\n\n[FN#50] i.e. odorem pudendorum amic\u00e6?\n\n[FN#51] A famous poet of the tribe of the Benou Udhreh, renowned\nfor their passionate sincerity in love-matters. He is celebrated\nas the lover of Butheineh, as Petrarch of Laura, and died A.D.\n701, sixteen years before Omar's accession.\n\n[FN#52] A friend of Jemil and a poet of equal renown. He is\ncelebrated as the lover of Azzeh, whose name is commonly added to\nhis, and kept a grocer's shop at Medina.\n\n[FN#53] i.e. in the attitude of prayer.\n\n[FN#54] A famous satirical poet of the time, afterwards banished\nby Omar for the virulence of his lampoons. His name is wrongly\ngiven by the text; it should be El Ahwes. He was a descendant of\nthe Ansar or (Medinan) helpers of Mohammed.\n\n[FN#55] A famous poet of the tribe of the Benou Temim and a rival\nof Jerir, to whom he was by some preferred. He was a notorious\ndebauchee and Jerir, in one of the satires that were perpetually\nexchanged between himself and El Ferezdec, accuses his rival of\nhaving \"never been a guest in any house, but he departed with\nignominy and left behind him disgrace.\"\n\n[FN#56] A Christian and a celebrated poet of the time.\n\n[FN#57] The poet apparently meant to insinuate that those who\nprofessed to keep the fast of Ramazan ate flesh in secret. The\nword rendered \"in public,\" i.e. openly, avowedly, may also\nperhaps be translated \"in the forenoon,\" and in this El Akhtel\nmay have meant to contrast his free-thinking disregard of the\nordinances of the fast with the strictness of the orthodox\nMuslim, whose only meals in Ramazan-time are made between sunset\nand dawn-peep. As soon as a white thread can be distinguished\nfrom a black, the fast is begun and a true believer must not even\nsmoke or swallow his saliva till sunset.\n\n[FN#58] Prominent words of the Muezzin's fore-dawn call to\nprayer.\n\n[FN#59] i.e. fall down drunk.\n\n[FN#60] i.e. she who ensnares [all] eyes.\n\n[FN#61] Imam, the spiritual title of the Khalif, as head of the\nFaith and leader (lit. \"foreman\") of the people at prayer.\n\n[FN#62] Or \"worldly.\"\n\n[FN#63] Or \"worldly.\"\n\n[FN#64] A town and province of Arabia, of which (inter alia) Omar\nben Abdulaziz was governor, before he came to the Khalifate.\n\n[FN#65] Syn. munificence.\n\n[FN#66] About 2 pounds sterling 10 s.\n\n[FN#67] i.e. what is thy news?\n\n[FN#68] Or \"I approve of him.\"\n\n[FN#69] Breslau Text, vol. vi. pp. 188-9, Night ccccxxxiv.\n\n[FN#70] El Hejjaj ben Yousuf eth Thekefi, a famous statesman and\nsoldier of the seventh and eighth centuries. He was governor of\nChaldaea (Irak Arabi), under the fifth and sixth Khalifs of the\nOmmiade dynasty, and was renowned for his cruelty, but appears to\nhave been a prudent and capable administrator, who used no more\nrigour than was necessary to restrain the proverbially turbulent\npopulations of Bassora and Cufa, Most of the anecdotes of his\nbrutality and tyranny, which abound in Arab authors, are, in all\nprobability, apocryphal.\n\n[FN#71] Used, by synecdoche, for \"heads.\"\n\n[FN#72] i.e. the governed, to wit, he who is led by a halter\nattached (metaphorically of course) to a ring passed through his\nnose, as with a camel.\n\n[FN#73] i.e. the governor or he who is high of rank.\n\n[FN#74] i.e. their hair, which may be considered the wealth of\nthe head. This whole passage is a description a double-entente of\na barber-surgeon.\n\n[FN#75] Syn. cooking-pot.\n\n[FN#76] Syn. be lowered. This passage is a similar description of\nan itinerant hot bean-seller.\n\n[FN#77] The rows of threads on a weaver's loom.\n\n[FN#78] Syn. levelleth.\n\n[FN#79] i.e. that of wood used by the Oriental weaver to govern\nthe warp and weft.\n\n[FN#80] Syn. behave aright.\n\n[FN#81] The loop of thread so called in which the weaver's foot\nrests.\n\n[FN#82] Syn. eloquence.\n\n[FN#83] Adeb, one of the terribly comprehensive words which\nabound in Arabic literature for the confusion of translators. It\nsignifies generally all kinds of education and means of mental\nand moral discipline and seems here to mean more particularly\nreadiness of wit and speech or presence of mind.\n\n[FN#84] Breslau Text, vol. vi. pp. 189-191, Night ccccxxxiv.\n\n[FN#85] Syn. (Koranic) \"Thou hast swerved from justice\" or \"been\nunjust\" (adeita).\n\n[FN#86] Syn. (Koranic) \"Thou hast transgressed\" (caset-ta).\n\n[FN#87] Or falling-away.\n\n[FN#88] Koran vi. 44.\n\n[FN#89] Or do injustice, tadilou (syn. do justice).\n\n[FN#90] Koran iv. 134.\n\n[FN#91] El casitouna (syn. those who act righteously or\nequitably).\n\n[FN#92] Koran lxxii. 15.\n\n[FN#93] Name of the Persian ancestor of the Barmecide (properly\nBermeki) family.\n\n[FN#94] Breslau Text, vol. vi. pp. 191-343, Nights\nccccxxv-cccclxxxvii. This is the Arab version of the well-known\nstory called, in Persian, the Bekhtyar Nameh, i.e. the Book of\nBekhtyar, by which name the prince, whose attempted ruin by the\nenvious viziers is the central incident of the tale, is\ndistinguished in that language. The Arab redaction of the story\nis, to my mind, far superior to the Persian, both in general\nsimplicity and directness of style and in the absence of the\nirritating conceits and moral digressions with which Persian (as\nwell as Indian) fiction is so often overloaded. The Persian\norigin of the story is apparent, not only in the turn of the\nincidents and style and the names of the personages, but in the\nfact that not a single line of verse occurs in it.\n\n[FN#95] Rawi; this is probably a copyist's mistake for raai, a\nbeholder, one who seeth.\n\n[FN#96] Lit. what was his affair? It may be here observed that\nthe word keif (how?) is constantly used in the Breslau Text in\nthe sense of ma (what?).\n\n[FN#97] A district of Persia, here probably Persia itself.\n\n[FN#98] Probably a corruption of Kisra (Chosro\u00ebs).\n\n[FN#99] i.e. waylaying travellers, robbing on the high road.\n\n[FN#100] Or skill.\n\n[FN#101] Lit. the descended fate.\n\n[FN#102] The Arabs attribute to a man's parentage absolute power\nin the determination of his good and evil qualities; eg. the son\nof a slave, according to them, can possess none of the virtues of\nthe free-born, whilst good qualities are in like manner\nconsidered congenitally inherent in the latter.\n\n[FN#103] Or \"business.\"\n\n[FN#104] i.e. whither he should travel.\n\n[FN#105] About half-a-crown.\n\n[FN#106] It is a common practice with Eastern nations to keep a\nchild (especially a son and one of unusual beauty) concealed\nuntil a certain age, for fear of the evil eye. See my \"Book of\nthe Thousand Nights and One Night,\" Vol. III. p. 234; Vol. IX. p.\n67, etc., etc.\n\n[FN#107] i.e. killing a man.\n\n[FN#108] i.e., it will always be in our power to slay him, when\nwe will.\n\n[FN#109] i.e. the grave.\n\n[FN#110] i.e. the wedding-day.\n\n[FN#111] i.e. thy women\n\n[FN#112] i.e. hath been unduly prolonged.\n\n[FN#113] i.e. Let thy secret thoughts and purposes be righteous,\neven as thine outward profession.\n\n[FN#114] See my \"Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night,\" Vol.\nV. p. 264.\n\n[FN#115] Afterwards called his \"chamberlain,\" i.e. the keeper of\nthe door of the harem or chief eunuch. See post, p. III.\n\n[FN#116] i.e. the eunuch who had dissuaded Dadbin from putting\nher to death.\n\n[FN#117] Apparently referring to Aboulkhair (see ante p. 107),\nwhom Dabdin would seem to have put to death upon the vizier's\nfalse accusation, although no previous mention of this occurs.\n\n[FN#118] The Arabs believe that each man's destiny is\ncharactered, could we decipher it, in the sutures of his skull.\n\n[FN#119] ie. the lex talionis, which is the essence of Muslim\njurisprudence.\n\n[FN#120] i.e. a soldier of fortune, going about from court to\ncourt, in quest of service.\n\n[FN#121] This phrase refers to the Arab idiom, \"His hand (or arm)\nis long or short,\" i.e. he is a man of great or little puissance.\n\n[FN#122] The Arabs consider it a want of respect to allow the\nhands or feet to remain exposed in the presence of a superior.\n\n[FN#123] Adeb. See ante, p. 54, note 9.\n\n[FN#124] i.e. that he become my son-in-law.\n\n[FN#125] It is a common Eastern practice to have the feet kneaded\nand pressed (shampooed) for the purpose of inducing sleep, and\nthus the king would habitually fall asleep with his feet on the\nknees of his pages.\n\n[FN#126] Syn. whoso respecteth not his lord's women.\n\n[FN#127] i.e. a domed tomb.\n\n[FN#128] Of a man's life. The Muslims believe each man's last\nhour to be written in a book called \"The Preserved Tablet.\"\n\n[FN#129] i.e, the Autumnal Equinox, one of the two great festival\ndays (the other being the New Year) of the Persians. See my \"Book\nof the Thousand Nights and One Night,\" Vol. IV. p. 144.\n\n[FN#130] i.e. heritage.\n\n[FN#131] i.e. The Emperor of the Romans of the Lower Empire, so\ncalled by the Arabs. \"Caesar\" is their generic term for the\nEmperors of Constantinople, as is Kisra (Chosro\u00ebs) for the\nancient Kings of Persia.\n\n[FN#132] i.e. Shah Khatoun.\n\n[FN#133] i.e. our power increased by his alliance, a. familiar\nArab idiom.\n\n[FN#134] In token of deputation of authority, a ceremony usual on\nthe appointment of a governor of a province.\n\n[FN#135] Or enigma.\n\n[FN#136] i.e. if my death be ordained of destiny to befall on an\nearly day none may avail to postpone it to a later day.\n\n[FN#137] Of life. See supra, note, p. 147.\n\n[FN#138] The hoopoe is fabled by the Muslim chroniclers to have\nbeen to Solomon what Odin's ravens were to the Norse god. It is\nsaid to have known all the secrets of the earth and to have\nrevealed them to him; hence the magical virtues attributed by the\nMohammedans to its heart.\n\n[FN#139] This phrase may be read either literally or in its\nidiomatic sense, i.e., \"Folk convicted or suspected of murder or\ncomplicity in murder.\"\n\n[FN#140] Or purse-belt.\n\n[FN#141] See supra, p. 66.\n\n[FN#142] Khilaah, lit. that which one takes off from one's own\nperson, to bestow upon a messenger of good tidings or any other\nwhom it is desired especially to honour. The literal meaning of\nthe phrase, here rendered \"he bestowed on him a dress of honour,\"\nis \"he put off on him [that which was upon himself.\" A Khilaah\ncommonly includes a horse, a sword, a girdle or waist-cloth and\nother articles, according to the rank of the recipient, and might\nmore precisely be termed \"a complete equipment of honour.\"\n\n[FN#143] An economical mode of rewarding merit, much in favour\nwith Eastern monarchs.\n\n[FN#144] Breslau Text, vol. vii. pp. 251-4, Night dlxv.\n\n[FN#145] Syn. doorkeper (hajib).\n\n[FN#146] Ibn Khelbkan, who tells this story in a somewhat\ndifferent style, on the authority of Er Reshid's brother Ibrahim\nben El Mehdi, calls the person whom Jaafer expected \"Abdulmelik\nben Behran, the intendant of his demesnes.\"\n\n[FN#147] The wearing of silk and bright colours is forbidden to\nthe strict Muslim and it is generally considered proper, in a man\nof position, to wear them only on festive occasions or in\nprivate, as in the text.\n\n[FN#148] The Abbasides or descendants of El Abbas, the Prophet's\nuncle, were noted for their excessive pride and pretensions to\nstrict orthodoxy in all outward observances. Abdulmelik ben\nSalih, who was a well-known general and statesman of the time,\nwas especially renowned for pietism and austerity of manners.\n\n[FN#149] i.e. Do not let my presence trouble you.\n\n[FN#150] As a member of the reigning family, he of course wore\nblack clothes, that being the especial colour of the house of\nAbbas, adopted by them in opposition to the rival (and fallen)\ndynasty of the Benou Umeyyeh, whose family colour was white, that\nof the house of Ali being green.\n\n[FN#151] About \u00a325,000. Ibn Khellikan makes the debt four\nmillions of dirhems or about \u00a3100,000\n\n[FN#152] Breslau text, vol vii, pp.258-60, Night dlxvii.\n\n[FN#153] Fourth Khalif of the house of Abbas, A.D. 785-786.\n\n[FN#154] Third Khalif of the house of Abbas, A.D. 775-785.\n\n[FN#155] The following is Et Teberi's version of this anecdote.\nEl Mehdi had presented his son Haroun with a ruby ring, worth a\nhundred thousand dinars, and the latter being one day with his\nbrother [the then reigning Khalif], El Hadi saw the ring on his\nfinger and desired it. So, when Haroun went out from him, he sent\nafter him, to seek the ring of him. The Khalif's messenger\novertook Er Reshid on the bridge over the Tigris and acquainted\nhim with his errand; whereupon the prince enraged at the demand,\npulled off the ring and threw it into the river. When El Hadi\ndied and Er Reshid succeeded to the throne, he went with his\nsuite to the bridge in question and bade his Vizier Yehya ben\nKhalid send for divers and cause them make search for the ring.\nIt had then been five months in the water and no one believed it\nwould be found. However, the divers plunged into the river and\nfound the ring in the very place where he had thrown it in,\nwhereat Haroun rejoiced with an exceeding joy, regarding it as a\npresage of fair fortune.\n\n[FN#156] This is an error. Jaafer's father Yehya was appointed by\nHaroun his vizier and practically continued to exercise that\noffice till the fall of the Barmecides (A.D. 803), his sons Fezl\nand Jaafer acting only as his assistants or lieutenants. See my\nEssay on the History and Character of the Book of the Thousand\nNights and One Night.\n\n[FN#157] Another mistake. It was Fezl, the Khalif's\nfoster-brother, to whom he used to give this title.\n\n[FN#158] A third mistake. The whole period during which the\nempire was governed by Yehya and his sons was only seventeen\nyears, i.e. A.D 786-803, but see my Essay.\n\n[FN#159] The apparent meaning of this somewhat obscure saying is,\n\"Since fortune is uncertain, conciliate the favour of those with\nwhom thou hast to do by kind offices, so thou mayst find refuge\nwith them in time of need.\"\n\n[FN#160] For a detailed account of the Barmecides and of their\nfall, see my Essay.\n\n[FN#161] Breslau Text, vol. vii. pp. 260-1, Night dlxviii.\n\n[FN#162] Aboulabbas Mohammed Ibn Sabih, surnamed Ibn es Semmak\n(son of the fishmonger), a well-known Cufan jurisconsult and\nascetic of the time. He passed the latter part of his life at\nBaghdad and enjoyed high favour with Er Reshid, as the only\ntheological authority whom the latter could induce to promise him\nadmission to Paradise.\n\n[FN#163] Breslau Text, vol. vii. pp. 261-2, Night dlxviii.\n\n[FN#164] Seventh Khalif of the house of Abbas, A.D. 813-33.\n\n[FN#165] Sixth Khalif of the house of Abbas, A.D. 809-13, a\nsanguinary and incapable prince, whose contemplated treachery\nagainst his brother El Mamoun, (whom, by the advice of his\nvizier, the worthless intriguer Fezl ben Rebya, the same who was\none of the prime movers in the ruin of the illustrious Barmecide\nfamily and who succeeded Yehya and his sons in the vizierate (see\nmy Essay), he contemplated depriving of his right of succession\nand murdering,) was deservedly requited with the loss of his own\nkingdom and life. He was, by the way, put to death by El Mamoun's\ngeneral, in contravention of the express orders of that generous\nand humane prince, who wished his brother to be sent prisoner to\nhim, on the capture of Baghdad.\n\n[FN#166] i.e. forfeits. It is a favourite custom among the Arabs\nto impose on the loser of a game, in lieu of stakes, the\nobligation of doing whatsoever the winner may command him. For an\nillustration of this practice, see my \"Book of the Thousand\nNights and One Night,\" Vol. V. pp. 336-41, Story of the\nSandalwood Merchant and the Sharpers.\n\n[FN#167] El Mamoun was of a very swarthy complexion and is said\nto have been the son of a black slave-girl. Zubeideh was Er\nReshid's cousin, and El Amin was, therefore, a member of the\nhouse of Abbas, both on the father's and mother's side. Of this\npurity of descent from the Prophet's family (in which he is said\nto have stood alone among the Khalifs of the Abbaside dynasty)\nboth himself and his mother were exceedingly proud, and it was\ndoubtless this circumstance which led Er Reshid to prefer El Amin\nand to assign him the precedence in the succession over the more\ncapable and worthier El Mamoun.\n\n[FN#168] Breslau Text, vol. viii. pp. 226-9, Nights dclx-i.\n\n[FN#169] A pre-Mohammedan King of the Arab kingdom of Hireh (a\ntown near Cufa on the Euphrates), under the suzerainty of the\nChosroes of Persia, and a cruel and fantastic tyrant.\n\n[FN#170] The tribe to which belonged the renowned pre-Mohammedan\nchieftain and poet, Hatim Tal, so celebrated in the East for his\nextravagant generosity and hospitality.\n\n[FN#171] i.e. I will make a solemn covenant with him before God.\n\n[FN#172] i.e. he of the tribe of Tai.\n\n[FN#173] In generosity.\n\n[FN#174] A similar anecdote is told of Omar ben el Khettab,\nsecond successor of Mohammed, and will be found in my \"Book of\nthe Thousand Nights and One Night,\" Vol. IV. p. 239.\n\n[FN#175] Breslau Text, vol. viii. pp. 273-8, Nights dclxxv--vi.\n\n[FN#176] A similar story will be found in my \"Book of the\nThousand Nights and One Night\", Vol. V. p. 263.\n\n[FN#177] Breslau Text, vol xi. pp. 84-318, Nights\ndccclxxv-dccccxxx.\n\n[FN#178] i.e. A pilgrimage. Pilgrimage is one of a Muslim's\nurgent duties.\n\n[FN#179] By a rhetorical figure, Mecca is sometimes called El\nHejj (the Pilgrimage) and this appears to be the case here. It is\none of the dearest towns in the East and the chief occupation of\nits inhabitants a the housing and fleecing of pilgrims. An Arab\nproverb says, \"There is no place in which money goes [so fast] as\nit goes in Mecca.\"\n\n[FN#180] lit. loved with it.\n\n[FN#181] It is not clear what is here meant by El Hejj; perhaps\nMedina, though this is a \"visitation\" and not an obligatory part\nof the pilgrimage. The passage is probably corrupt.\n\n[FN#182] It is not clear what is here meant by El Hejj; perhaps\nMedina, though this is a \"visitation\" and not an obligatory part\nof the pilgrimage. The passage is probably corrupt.\n\n[FN#183] Syn. whole or perfect (sehik).\n\n[FN#184] i.e. in white woollen garments.\n\n[FN#185] i.e. I desire a privy place, where I may make the\npreliminary ablution and pray.\n\n[FN#186] It is customary in the East to give old men and women\nthe complimentary title of \"pilgrim,\" assuming, as a matter of\ncourse, that they have performed the obligatory rite of\npilgrimage.\n\n[FN#187] Or saint.\n\n[FN#188] Keniseh, a Christian or other non-Muslim place of\nworship.\n\n[FN#189] Apparently the harem.\n\n[FN#190] i.e. otherwise than according to God's ordinance.\n\n[FN#191] A city of Persian Irak.\n\n[FN#192] Lit. its apparatus, i.e. spare strings, etc.?\n\n[FN#193] i.e. the woman whose face he saw.\n\n[FN#194] Lit. the place of battle, i.e. that where they had lain.\n\n[FN#195] A common Eastern fashion of securing a shop, when left\nfor a short time. The word shebekeh (net) may also be tendered a\ngrating or network of iron or other metal.\n\n[FN#196] i.e. gave her good measure.\n\n[FN#197] i.e. she found him a good workman. Equivoque erotique,\napparently founded on the to-and-fro movement of the shuttle in\nweaving.\n\n[FN!198] Equivoque \u00e9rotique.\n\n[FN#199] i.e. removed the goods exposed for sale and laid them up\nin the inner shop or storehouse.\n\n[FN#200] The Eastern oven is generally a great earthenware jar\nsunken in the earth.\n\n[FN#201] i.e. a boughten white slave (memlouk).\n\n[FN#202] Apparently changing places. The text is here fearfully\ncorrupt and (as in many other parts of the Breslau Edition) so\nincoherent as to be almost unintelligible.\n\n[FN#203] i.e. in the (inner) courtyard.\n\n[FN#204] i.e. the essential nature, lit. jewel.\n\n[FN#205] i.e. in proffering thee the kingship.\n\n[FN#206] Without the city.\n\n[FN#207] According to the conclusion of the story, this\nrecompense consisted in an augmentation of the old man's\nallowances of food. See post, p. 245.\n\n[FN#208] i.e. I have given my opinion.\n\n[FN#209] This passage is evidently corrupt. I have amended it, on\nconjecture, to the best of my power.\n\n[FN#210] The words ruteb wa menazil, here rendered \"degrees and\ndignities,\" may also be rendered, \"stations and mansions (of the\nmoon and planets).\"\n\n[FN#211] Syn. \"ailing\" or \"sickly.\"\n\n[FN#212] i.e. the caravan with which he came.\n\n[FN#213] i.e. I seek to marry thy daughter, not for her own sake,\nbut because I desire thine alliance.\n\n[FN#214] i.e. the face of his bride.\n\n[FN#215] i.e. his wife.\n\n[FN#216] i.e. his wife.\n\n[FN#217] Naming the poor man.\n\n[FN#218] Naming his daughter.\n\n[FN#219] i.e. united.\n\n[FN#220] Or \"humble.\"\n\n[FN#221] i.e. one another.\n\n[FN#222] Or \"conquer.\"\n\n[FN#223] Or \"commandment.\"\n\n[FN#224] Lit. \"will be higher than.\"\n\n[FN#225] Syn. device or resource (hileh).\n\n[FN#226] Syn. chasten or instruct.\n\n[FN#227] Students of our old popular poetry will recognize, in\nthe principal incident of this story, the subject of the\nwell-known ballad, \"The Heir of Linne.\"\n\n[FN#228] i.e. Turcomans; afterwards called Sejestan.\n\n[FN#229] With a pile of stones or some such landmark.\n\n[FN#230] i.e. the extraordinary resemblance of the supposed\nsister to his wife.\n\n[FN#231] The foregoing passage is evidently very corrupt and the\nmeaning is by no means plain, but, in the absence of a parallel\nversion, it is impossible to clear up the obscurity of the text.\n\n[FN#232] This appears to be the sense of the text; but the whole\npassage is to obscure and corrupt that it is impossible to make\nsure of its exact meaning.\n\n[FN#233] Meaning apparently, \"thou puttest my devices to nought\"\nor (perhaps) \"thou art so skilful that I fear lest thou undermine\nmy favour with the king and oust me from my post of vizier.\"\n\n[FN#234] Lit. \"land;\" but the meaning is evidently as in the\ntext.\n\n[FN#235] The reader will recognize the well-known story used by\nChaucer, Boccaccio and La Fontaine.\n\n[FN#236] Syn. flourishing.\n\n[FN#237] Syn. depopulated.\n\n[FN#238] Lit. an oppressor.\n\n[FN#239] i.e. a man of commanding presence.\n\n[FN#240] Syn. cause flourish.\n\n[FN#241] Syn. depopulateth.\n\n[FN#242] Lit. the year.\n\n[FN#243] The whole of the tither's account of himself is terribly\nobscure and so corrupt that it is hardly possible to make sense\nof it. The same remark applies to much of the rest of the story.\n\n[FN#244] Or \"cause flourish.\"\n\n[FN#245] Lit. a better theologian. The Muslim law being entirely\nbased on the Koran and the Traditions of the Prophet, the terms\n\"lawyer\" and \"theologian\" are necessarily synonymous among\nMohammedan peoples.\n\n[FN#246] A danic is the sixth of a dirhem, i.e. about one penny.\n\n[FN#247] i.e. say, \"May I be [triply] divorced from my wife, if\netc.!\" By the Muslim law, a divorce three times pronounced is\nirrevocable, and in case of its appearing that the user of such\nan oath as the above had sworn falsely, his wife would become\ndivorced by operation of law, without further ceremony. Hence the\nfrequency and binding nature of the oath in question.\n\n[FN#248] i.e. thousandfold cuckold.\n\n[FN#249] i.e. the blows which the thief had given him.\n\n[FN#250] i.e. at least, at the most moderate reckoning.\n\n[FN#251] Or \"Breath of God,\" a title given to Jesus by the\nMohammedans.\n\n[FN#252] i.e. attaineth his desire.\n\n[FN#253] Syn. guards.\n\n[FN#254] i.e. the husbandman.\n\n[FN#255] i.e. those bound to render suit and service to the king,\nas holders of fiefs.\n\n[FN#256] Syn. the revenue or rent-charge of thy fief.\n\n[FN#257] Heads of families?\n\n[FN#258] Or \"caused flourish.\"\n\n[FN#259] Or froward.\n\n[FN#260] i.e. sold and spent the price of.\n\n[FN#261] i.e. his lack of means to entertain her.\n\n[FN#262] i.e. all that can conduce to.\n\n[FN#263] i.e. it is for you (after God) to excuse me.\n\n[FN#264] i.e. the [supposed] rest of his hoard.\n\n[FN#265] Apparently the idiot's name.\n\n[FN#266] i.e. had he been on his own guard against that, etc.","title":"Tales from the Arabic \u2014 Volume 01","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":76862}