{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_5245/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_5245","id":"gutenberg_5245","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/5245","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.\n\n\nText scanned by JC Byers and proof read by the volunteers of the\nDistributed Proofreaders site: http://charlz.dns2go.com/gutenberg/\n\n\n                     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 SECOND.\n\n\n\n                              1901\n\n                         Delhi Edition\n\n\n                 Contents of The Second Volume.\n\n\n\n                         Breslau Text.\n\n1.   King Shah Bekht and His Vizier Er Rehwan (Continued)\n     a.   Story of the Pious Woman Accused of Lewdness\n     b.   Story of the Journeyman and the Girl\n     c.   Story of the Weaver Who Became a Physician by His\n          Wife's Commandment\n     d.   Story of the Two Sharpers Who Cheated Each His Fellow\n     e.   Story of the Sharpers with the Money-Changer and the\n          Ass\n     f.   Story of the Sharper and the Merchants\n          i.   Story of the Hawk and the Locust\n     g.   Story Op the King and His Chamberlain Wife\n     h.   Story of the Old Woman and the Draper's Wife\n     i.   Story of the Foul-favoured Man and His Fair Wife\n     j.   Story of the King Who Lost Kingdom and Wife and Wealth\n          and God Restored Them To Him\n     k.   Story of Selim and Selma\n     l.   Story of the King of Hind and His Vizier\n2.   El Melik Ez Zahir Rukneddin Bibers El Bunducdari and the\n     Sixteen Officers Of Police\n     a.   The First Officer's Story\n     b.   The Second Officer's Story\n     c.   The Third Officer's Story\n     d.   The Fourth Officer's Story\n     e.   The Fifth Officer's Story\n     f.   The Sixth Officer's Story\n     g.   The Seventh Officer's Story\n     h.   The Eighth Officer's Story\n          i.   The Thief's Story\n     i.   The Ninth Officer's Story\n     j.   The Tenth Officer's Story\n     k.   The Eleventh Officer's Story\n     l.   The Twelfth Officer's Story\n     m.   The Thirteenth Officer's Story\n     n.   The Fourteenth Officer's Story\n          i.   A Merry Jest of a Thief\n          ii.  Story of the Old Sharper\n     o.   The Fifteenth Officer's Story\n     p.   The Sixteenth Officer's Story\n3.   Abdallah Ben Nafi and the King's Son of Cashghar\n     a.   Story of the Damsel Tuhfet El Culoub and the Khalif\n          Haroun Er Reshid\n\n                     Calcutta (1814-8) Text\n\n4.   Women's Craft\n\n\n\n                         Breslau Text.\n\n\n\n            King Shah Bekht and His Vizier Er Rehwan\n                          (continued).\n\n\n\n               The Eighteenth Night of the Month.\n\nWhen the evening evened, the king summoned the vizier and\nrequired of him the [promised] story; so he said, \"It is well.\nKnow, O king, that\n\n\n\n\n\n\n              STORY OF THE PIOUS WOMAN ACCUSED OF\n                           LEWDNESS.\n\n\n\nThere was once a man of Nishapour,[FN#1] who had a wife of the\nutmost loveliness and piety, and he was minded to set out on the\npilgrimage. So he commended his wife to the care of his brother\nand besought him to aid her in her affairs and further her to her\ndesires till he should return, so they both abode alive and well.\nThen he took ship and departed and his absence was prolonged.\nMeanwhile, the brother went in to his brother's wife, at all\ntimes and seasons, and questioned her of her circumstances and\nwent about her occasions; and when his visits to her were\nprolonged and he heard her speech and looked upon her face, the\nlove of her gat hold upon his heart and he became distraught with\npassion for her and his soul prompted him [to evil]. So he\nbesought her to lie with him, but she refused and chid him for\nhis foul deed, and he found him no way unto presumption;[FN#2]\nwherefore he importuned her with soft speech and gentleness.\n\nNow she was righteous in all her dealings and swerved not from\none word;[FN#3] so, when he saw that she consented not unto him,\nhe misdoubted that she would tell his brother, when he returned\nfrom his journey, and said to her, 'An thou consent not to this\nwhereof I require thee, I will cause thee fall into suspicion and\nthou wilt perish.' Quoth she, 'Be God (extolled be His perfection\nand exalted be He!) [judge] betwixt me and thee, and know that,\nshouldst thou tear me limb from limb, I would not consent to that\nwhereto thou biddest me.' His folly[FN#4] persuaded him that she\nwould tell her husband; so, of his exceeding despite, he betook\nhimself to a company of people in the mosque and told them that\nhe had witnessed a man commit adultery with his brother's wife.\nThey believed his saying and took act of his accusation and\nassembled to stone her. Then they dug her a pit without the city\nand seating her therein, stoned her, till they deemed her dead,\nwhen they left her.\n\nPresently a villager passed by [the pit and finding] her [alive,]\ncarried her to his house and tended her, [till she recovered].\nNow, he had a son, and when the young man saw her, he loved her\nand besought her of herself; but she refused and consented not to\nhim, whereupon he redoubled in love and longing and despite\nprompted him to suborn a youth of the people of his village and\nagree with him that he should come by night and take somewhat\nfrom his father's house and that, when he was discovered, he\nshould say that she was of accord with him in this and avouch\nthat she was his mistress and had been stoned on his account in\nthe city. So he did this and coming by night to the villager's\nhouse, stole therefrom goods and clothes; whereupon the old man\nawoke and seizing the thief, bound him fast and beat him, to make\nhim confess. So he confessed against the woman that she had\nprompted him to this and that he was her lover from the city. The\nnews was bruited abroad and the people of the city assembled to\nput her to death; but the old man, with whom she was, forbade\nthem and said, 'I brought this woman hither, coveting the\nrecompense [of God,] and I know not [the truth of] that which is\nsaid of her and will not suffer any to hurt her.' Then he gave\nher a thousand dirhems, by way of alms, and put her forth of the\nvillage. As for the thief, he was imprisoned for some days; after\nwhich the folk interceded for him with the old man, saying, 'This\nis a youth and indeed he erred;' and he released him.\n\nMeanwhile, the woman went out at hazard and donning devotee's\napparel, fared on without ceasing, till she came to a city and\nfound the king's deputies dunning the towns-folk for the tribute,\nout of season. Presently, she saw a man, whom they were pressing\nfor the tribute; so she enquired of his case and being acquainted\ntherewith, paid down the thousand dirhems for him and delivered\nhim from beating; whereupon he thanked her and those who were\npresent. When he was set free, he accosted her and besought her\nto go with him to his dwelling. So she accompanied him thither\nand supped with him and passed the night. When the night darkened\non him, his soul prompted him to evil, for that which he saw of\nher beauty and loveliness, and he lusted after her and required\nher [of love]; but she repelled him and bade him fear God the\nMost High and reminded him of that which she had done with him of\nkindness and how she had delivered him from beating and\nhumiliation.\n\nHowever, he would not be denied, and when he saw her [constant]\nrefusal of herself to him, he feared lest she should tell the\nfolk of him. So, when he arose in the morning, he took a scroll\nand wrote in it what he would of forgery and falsehood and going\nup to the Sultan's palace, said, '[I have] an advisement [for the\nking].' So he bade admit him and he delivered him the writ that\nhe had forged, saying, 'I found this letter with the woman, the\ndevotee, the ascetic, and indeed she is a spy, a secret informer\nagainst the king to his enemy; and I deem the king's due more\nincumbent on me than any other and his advisement the first\n[duty], for that he uniteth in himself all the people, and but\nfor the king's presence, the subjects would perish; wherefore I\nhave brought [thee] warning.' The king put faith in his words and\nsent with him those who should lay hands upon the woman and put\nher to death; but they found her not.\n\nAs for the woman, whenas the man went out from her, she resolved\nto depart; so she went forth, saying in herself, 'There is no\njourneying for me in woman's attire.' Then she donned men's\napparel, such as is worn of the pious, and set out and wandered\nover the earth; nor did she leave going till she entered a\ncertain city. Now the king of that city had an only daughter in\nwhom he gloried and whom he loved, and she saw the devotee and\ndeeming her a pilgrim youth, said to her father, 'I would fain\nhave this youth take up his abode with me, so I may learn of him\nwisdom and renunciation and religion.' Her father rejoiced in\nthis and commanded the [supposed] pilgrim to take up his sojourn\nwith his daughter in his palace. Now they were in one place and\nthe king's daughter was strenuous to the utterest in continence\nand chastity and nobility of mind and magnanimity and devotion to\nthe worship of God; but the ignorant slandered her[FN#5] and the\nfolk of the realm said, 'The king's daughter loveth the pilgrim\nyouth and he loveth her.'\n\nNow the king was a very old man and destiny decreed the ending of\nhis term of life; so he died and when he was buried, the folk\nassembled and many were the sayings of the people and of the\nking's kinsfolk and officers, and they took counsel together to\nslay the princess and the young pilgrim, saying, 'This fellow\ndishonoureth us with yonder strumpet and none accepteth dishonour\nbut the base.' So they fell upon them and slew the princess,\nwithout questioning her of aught; whereupon the pious woman (whom\nthey deemed a boy) said to them, 'Out on ye, O misbelievers I Ye\nhave slain the pious lady.' Quoth they, 'Lewd fellow that thou\nart, dost thou bespeak us thus? Thou lovedst her and she loved\nthee, and we will slay thee without mercy.' 'God forbid!'\nanswered she, 'Indeed, the affair is the contrary of this.' 'What\nproof hast thou of that?' asked they, and she said, 'Bring me\nwomen.' So they brought her women, and when they looked on her,\nthey found her a woman.\n\nWhen the townsfolk saw this, they repented of that which they had\ndone and the affair was grievous to them; so they sought pardon\n[of God] and said to her, ' By the virtue of Him whom thou\nservest, do thou seek pardon for us [of God!]' Quoth she, 'As for\nme, I may no longer abide with you and I am about to depart from\nyou.' Then they humbled themselves in supplication to her and\nwept and said to her, 'We conjure thee, by the virtue of God the\nMost High, that thou take upon thyself the governance of the\nkingdom and of the subjects.' But she refused; whereupon they\ncame up to her and wept and gave not over supplicating her, till\nshe consented and abode in the kingship. Her first commandment\nwas that they should bury the princess and build over her a\ndome[FN#6] and she abode in that palace, worshipping God the Most\nHigh and ruling the people with justice, and God (extolled be His\nperfection and exalted be He!) vouchsafed her, by reason of the\nexcellence of her piety and her patience and continence, the\nacceptance of her prayers, so that she sought not aught of Him to\nwhom belong might and majesty, but He granted her prayer; and her\nreport was noised abroad in all countries.\n\nSo the folk resorted to her from all parts and she used to pray\nGod (to whom belong might and majesty) for the oppressed and God\ngranted him relief, and against his oppressor, and He broke him\nin sunder. Moreover, she prayed for the sick and they were made\nwhole; and on this wise she abode a great space of time. As for\nher husband, when he returned from the pilgrimage, his brother\nand the neighbours acquainted him with his wife's affair, whereat\nhe was sore concerned and misdoubted of their story, for that\nwhich he knew of her chastity and prayerfulness; and he wept for\nher loss.\n\nMeanwhile, she prayed to God the Most High that He would\nestablish her innocence in the eyes of her husband and the folk.\nSo He sent down upon her husband's brother a sore disease and\nnone knew a remedy for him; wherefore he said to his brother, '\nIn such a city is a pious woman, a recluse, and her prayers are\nanswered; so do thou carry me to her, that she may pray for me\nand God (to whom belong might and majesty) may make me whole of\nthis sickness.' Accordingly, he took him up and fared on with\nhim, till they came to the village where dwelt the old man, who\nhad rescued the woman from the pit and carried her to his\ndwelling and tended her there, [till she recovered].\n\nHere they halted and took up their lodging with the old man, who\nquestioned the husband of his case and that of his brother and\nthe reason of their journey, and he said, 'I purpose to go with\nmy brother, this sick man, to the holy woman, her whose prayers\nare answered, so she may pray for him and God may make him whole\nby the blessing of her prayers.' Quoth the villager, 'By Allah,\nmy son is in a parlous plight for sickness and we have heard that\nthe holy woman prayeth for the sick and they are made whole.\nIndeed, the folk counsel me to carry him to her, and behold, I\nwill go in company with you. And they said, 'It is well.' So they\npassed the night in that intent and on the morrow they set out\nfor the dwelling of the holy woman, this one carrying his son and\nthat his brother.\n\nNow the man who had stolen the clothes and forged a lie against\nthe pious woman, pretending that he was her lover, sickened of a\nsore sickness, and his people took him up and set out with him to\nvisit the holy woman, and Destiny brought them all together by\nthe way. So they fared on, till they came to the city wherein the\nman dwelt for whom she had paid a thousand dirhems, to deliver\nhim from torment, and found him about to travel to her, by reason\nof a sickness that had betided him. So they all fared on\ntogether, unknowing that the holy woman was she whom they had so\nfoully wronged, and ceased not going till they came to her city\nand foregathered at the gates of her palace, to wit, that wherein\nwas the tomb of the king's daughter.\n\nNow the folk used to go in to her and salute her and crave her\nprayers; and it was her wont to pray for none till he had\nconfessed to her his sins, when she would seek pardon for him and\npray for him that he might be healed, and he was straightway made\nwhole of sickness, by permission of God the Most High. [So, when\nthe four sick men were brought in to her,] she knew them\nforthright, though they knew her not, and said to them, ' Let\neach of you confess his sins, so I may crave pardon for him and\npray for him.' And the brother said, 'As for me, I required my\nbrother's wife of herself and she refused; whereupon despite and\nfolly[FN#7] prompted me and I lied against her and accused her to\nthe townsfolk of adultery; so they stoned her and slew her\nunjustly and unrighteously; and this is the issue of unright and\nfalsehood and of the slaying of the [innocent] soul, whose\nslaughter God hath forbidden.'\n\nThen said the young man, the villager's son, 'And I, O holy\nwoman, my father brought us a woman who had been stoned, and my\npeople tended her till she recovered. Now she was surpassing of\nbeauty; so I required her of herself; but she refused and clave\nfast to God (to whom belong might and majesty), wherefore\nfolly[FN#8] prompted me, so that I agreed with one of the youths\nthat he should steal clothes and coin from my father's house.\nThen I laid hands on him [and carried him] to my father and made\nhim confess. So he avouched that the woman was his mistress from\nthe city and had been stoned on his account and that she was of\naccord with him concerning the theft and had opened the doors to\nhim, and this was a lie against her, for that she had not yielded\nto me in that which I sought of her. So there befell me what ye\nsee of punishment.\" And the young man, the thief, said, 'I am he\nwith whom thou agreedst concerning the theft and to whom thou\nopenedst the door, and I am he who avouched against her falsely\nand calumniously and God (extolled be His perfection and exalted\nbe He!) knoweth that I never did evil with her, no, nor knew her\nin any wise before then.'\n\nThen said he whom she had delivered from torture and for whom she\nhad paid a thousand dirhems and who had required her of herself\nin his house, for that her beauty pleased him, and [when she\nrefused to yield to him] had forged a letter against her and\ntreacherously denounced her to the Sultan and requited her bounty\nwith ingratitude, 'I am he who wronged her and lied against her,\nand this is the issue of the oppressor's affair.'\n\nWhen she heard their words, in the presence of the folk, she\nsaid, 'Praise be to God, the King who availeth unto all things,\nand blessing upon His prophets and apostles!' Then quoth she [to\nthe assembly], ' Bear witness, O ye who are present, to these\nmen's speech, and know that I am that woman whom they confess\nthat they wronged.' And she turned to her husband's brother and\nsaid to him, 'I am thy brother's wife and God (extolled be His\nperfection and exalted be He I) delivered me from that whereinto\nthou castedst me of false accusation and suspect and from the\nfrowardness whereof thou hast spoken, and [now] hath He shown\nforth my innocence, of His bounty and generosity. Go, for thou\nart absolved of the wrong thou didst me.' Then she prayed for him\nand he was made whole of his sickness.\n\nThen said she to the villager's son, 'Know that I am the woman\nwhom thy father delivered from harm and stress and whom there\nbetided from thee of false accusation and frowardness that which\nthou hast named.' And she craved pardon for him and he was made\nwhole of his sickness. [Then said she to the thief, 'I am she\nagainst whom thou liedst, avouching that I was thy mistress, who\nhad been stoned on thine account, and that I was of accord with\nthee concerning the robbing of the villager's house and had\nopened the doors to thee.' And she prayed for him and he was made\nwhole of his sickness.] Then said she to [the townsman], him of\nthe tribute, 'I am she who gave thee the [thousand] dirhems and\nthou didst with me what thou didst.' And she craved pardon for\nhim and prayed for him and he was made whole; whereupon the folk\nmarvelled at her oppressors, who had been afflicted alike, so God\n(extolled be His perfection and exalted be He!) might show forth\nher innocence before witnesses.\n\nThen she turned to the old man who had delivered her from the pit\nand prayed for him and gave him presents galore and among them a\nmyriad of money;[FN#9] and they all departed from her, except her\nhusband. When she was alone with him, she made him draw near unto\nher and rejoiced in his coming and gave him the choice of abiding\nwith her. Moreover, she assembled the people of the city and set\nout to them his virtue and worth and counselled them to invest\nhim with the charge of their governance and besought them to make\nhim king over them. They fell in with her of this and he became\nking and took up his abode amongst them, whilst she gave herself\nup to her religious exercises and abode with her husband on such\nwise as she was with him aforetime.[FN#10] Nor,\" added the\nvizier, \"is this story, O king of the time, more extraordinary or\nmore delightful than that of the journeyman and the girl whose\nbelly he slit and fled.\"\n\nWhen King Shah Bekht heard this, he said, \"Most like all they say\nof the vizier is leasing and his innocence will appear, even as\nthat of the pious woman appeared.\" Then he comforted the vizier's\nheart and bade him go to his house.\n\n               The Nineteenth Night of the Month.\n\nWhen the evening evened, the king bade fetch the vizier and\nrequired of him the story of the journeyman and the girl. So he\nsaid, \"Hearkening and obedience. Know, O august king, that\n\n\n\n\n\n             STORY OF THE JOURNEYMAN AND THE GIRL.\n\n\n\nThere was once, of old time, in one of the tribes of the Arabs, a\nwoman great with child by her husband, and they had a hired\nservant, a man of excellent understanding. When the woman came to\n[the time of her] delivery, she gave birth to a maid-child in the\nnight and they sought fire of the neighbours. So the journeyman\nwent in quest of fire.\n\nNow there was in the camp a wise woman,[FN#11] and she questioned\nhim of the new-born child, if it was male or female. Quoth he,\n'It is a girl;' and she said, 'She shall do whoredom with a\nhundred men and a journeyman shall marry her and a spider shall\nslay her.' When the journeyman heard this, he returned upon his\nsteps and going in to the woman, took the child from her by wile\nand slit its paunch. Then he fled forth into the desert at a\nventure and abode in strangerhood what [while] God willed.\n\nHe gained him wealth and returning to his native land, after\ntwenty years' absence, alighted in the neighbourhood of an old\nwoman, whom he bespoke fair and entreated with liberality,\nrequiring of her a wench whom he might lie withal. Quoth she, 'I\nknow none but a certain fair woman, who is renowned for this\nfashion.'[FN#12] Then she described her charms to him and made\nhim lust after her, and he said, 'Hasten to her forthright and\nlavish unto her that which she asketh, [in exchange for her\nfavours].' So the old woman betook herself to the damsel and\ndiscovered to her the man's wishes and bade her to him; but she\nanswered, saying, 'It is true that I was on this [fashion of]\nwhoredom [aforetime]; but now I have repented to God the Most\nHigh and hanker no more after this; nay, I desire lawful\nmarriage; so, if he be content with that which is lawful, I am at\nhis service.'\n\nThe old woman returned to the man and told him what the damsel\nsaid; and he lusted after her, by reason of her beauty and her\nrepentance; so he took her to wife, and when he went in to her,\nhe loved her and she also loved him. On this wise they abode a\ngreat while, till one day he questioned her of the cause of a\nmark[FN#13] he espied on her body, and she said, 'I know nought\nthereof save that my mother told me a marvellous thing concerning\nit.' 'What was that?' asked he, and she answered, 'She avouched\nthat she gave birth to me one night of the nights of the winter\nand despatched a hired man, who was with us, in quest of fire for\nher. He was absent a little while and presently returning, took\nme and slit my belly and fled. When my mother saw this,\naffliction overcame her and compassion possessed her; so she\nsewed up my belly and tended me till, by the ordinance of God (to\nwhom belong might and majesty), the wound healed up.\"\n\nWhen her husband heard this, he said to her, 'What is thy name\nand what are the names of thy father and mother?' She told him\ntheir names and her own, whereby he knew that it was she whose\nbelly he had slit and said to her, 'And where are thy father and\nmother?' 'They are both dead,' answered she, and he said, 'I am\nthat journeyman who slit thy belly.' Quoth she, 'Why didst thou\nthat?' And he replied, 'Because of a saying I heard from the wise\nwoman.' 'What was it?' asked his wife, and he said, 'She avouched\nthat thou wouldst play the harlot with a hundied men and that I\nshould after take thee to wife.' Quoth she, 'Ay, I have whored it\nwith a hundred men, no more and no less, and behold, thou hast\nmarried me.' 'Moreover,' continued her husband, 'the wise woman\nforesaid, also, that thou shouldst die, at the last of thy life,\nof the bite of a spider. Indeed, her saying hath been verified of\nthe harlotry and the marriage, and I fear lest her word come true\nno less in the matter of thy death.'\n\nThen they betook themselves to a place without the city, where he\nbuilded him a mansion of solid stone and white plaster and\nstopped its inner [walls] and stuccoed them; yea, he left not\ntherein cranny nor crevice and set in it two serving-women to\nsweep and wipe, for fear of spiders. Here he abode with his wife\na great while, till one day he espied a spider on the ceiling and\nbeat it down. When his wife saw it, she said, 'This is that which\nthe wise woman avouched would kill me; so, by thy life [I conjure\nthee], suffer me to slay it with mine own hand.' Her husband\nforbade her from this, but she conjured him to let her kill the\nspider; then, of her fear and her eagerness, she took a piece of\nwood and smote it. The wood broke in sunder, of the force of the\nblow, and a splinter from it entered her hand and wrought upon\nit, so that it swelled. Then her arm swelled also and the\nswelling spread to her side and thence grew till it reached her\nheart and she died. Nor,\" added the vizier, \"is this more\nextraordinary or more wonderful than the story of the weaver who\nbecame a physician by his wife's commandment.\"\n\nWhen the king heard this, his admiration redoubled and he said,\n\"Of a truth, destiny is forewritten to all creatures, and I will\nnot accept[FN#14] aught that is said against my vizier the loyal\ncounsellor.\" And he bade him go to his house.\n\n               The Twentieth Night of the Month.\n\nWhen the evening evened, the king let call his vizier and he\npresented himself before him, whereupon he required of him the\nhearing of the [promised] story. So he said, \"Hearkening and\nobedience. Know, O king. that\n\n\n\n\n\n                STORY OF THE WEAVER WHO BECAME A\n              PHYSICIAN BY HIS WIFE'S COMMANDMENT.\n\n\n\nThere was once, in the land of Fars,[FN#15] a man who took to\nwife a woman higher than himself in rank and nobler of lineage,\nbut she had no guardian to preserve her from want. It misliked\nher to marry one who was beneath her; nevertheless, she married\nhim, because of need, and took of him a bond in writing to the\neffect that he would still be under her commandment and\nforbiddance and would nowise gainsay her in word or deed. Now the\nman was a weaver and he bound himself in writing to pay his wife\nten thousand dirhems, [in case he should make default in the\ncondition aforesaid].\n\nOn this wise they abode a long while till one day the wife went\nout in quest of water, whereof she had need, and espied a\nphysician who had spread a carpet in the Thereon he had set out\ngreat store of drugs and implements of medicine and he was\nspeaking and muttering [charms], whilst the folk flocked to him\nand compassed him about on every side. The weaver's wife\nmarvelled at the largeness of the physician's fortune[FN#16] and\nsaid in herself, 'Were my husband thus, he would have an easy\nlife of it and that wherein we are of straitness and misery would\nbe enlarged unto him.'\n\nThen she returned home, troubled and careful; and when her\nhusband saw her on this wise, he questioned her of her case and\nshe said to him, 'Verily, my breast is straitened by reason of\nthee and of the simpleness of thine intent. Straitness liketh me\nnot and thou in thy [present] craft gaiuest nought; so either do\nthou seek out a craft other than this or pay me my due[FN#17] and\nlet me go my way.' Her husband chid her for this and admonished\nher;[FN#18] but she would not be turned from her intent and said\nto him, 'Go forth and watch yonder physician how he doth and leam\nfrom him what he saith.' Quoth he, 'Let not thy heart be\ntroubled: I will go every day to the physician's assembly.'\n\nSo he fell to resorting daily to the physician and committing to\nmemory his sayings and that which he spoke of jargon, till he had\ngotten a great matter by heart, and all this he studied throughly\nand digested it. Then he returned to his wife and said to her, 'I\nhave committed the physician's sayings to memory and have learned\nhis fashion of muttering and prescribing and applying\nremedies[FN#19] and have gotten by heart the names of the\nremedies and of all the diseases, and there abideth nought\n[unaccomplished] of thy commandment. What wilt thou have me do\nnow?' Quoth she, 'Leave weaving and open thyself a physician's\nshop.' But he answered, 'The people of my city know me and this\naffair will not profit me, save in a land of strangerhood; so\ncome, let us go out from this city and get us to a strange land\nand [there] live.' And she said, 'Do as thou wilt.'\n\nSo he arose and taking his weaving gear, sold it and bought with\nthe price drugs and simples and wrought himself a carpet, with\nwhich they set out and journeyed to a certain village, where they\ntook up their abode. Then the man donned a physician's habit and\nfell to going round about the hamlets and villages and country\nparts; and he began to earn his living and make gain. Their\naffairs prospered and their case was bettered; wherefore they\npraised God for their present ease and the village became to them\na home.\n\n[On this wise he abode a pretty while] and the days ceased not\nand the nights to transport him from country to country, till he\ncame to the land of the Greeks and lighted down in a city of the\ncities thereof, wherein was Galen the Sage; but the weaver knew\nhim not, nor was he ware who he was. So he went forth, according\nto his wont, in quest of a place where the folk might assemble\ntogether, and hired Galen's courtyard.[FN#20] There he spread his\ncarpet and setting out thereon his drugs and instruments of\nmedicine, praised himself and his skill and vaunted himself of\nunderstanding such as none but he might claim.\n\nGalen heard that which he avouched of his understanding and it\nwas certified unto him and established in his mind that the man\nwas a skilled physician of the physicians of the Persians and [he\nsaid in himself], 'Except he had confidence in his knowledge and\nwere minded to confront me and contend with me, he had not sought\nthe door of my house neither spoken that which he hath spoken.'\nAnd concern gat hold upon Galen and doubt. Then he looked out\nupon[FN#21] the weaver and addressed himself to see what he\nshould do, whilst the folk began to flock to him and set out to\nhim their ailments, and he would answer them thereof [and\nprescribe for them], hitting the mark one while and missing it\nanother, so that there appeared unto Galen of his fashion nothing\nwhereby his mind might be assured that he had formed a just\nopinion of his skill.\n\nPresently, up came a woman with a phial of urine, and when the\n[mock] physician saw the phial afar off, he said to her, 'This is\nthe urine of a man, a stranger.' 'Yes,' answered she; and he\ncontinued, 'Is he not a Jew and is not his ailment indigestion?'\n'Yes,' replied the woman, and the folk marvelled at this;\nwherefore the man was magnified in Galen's eyes, for that he\nheard speech such as was not of the usage of physicians, seeing\nthat they know not urine but by shaking it and looking into it\nanear neither know they a man's water from a woman's water, nor a\nstranger's [from a countryman's], nor a Jew's from a\nSherifs.[FN#22] Then said the woman, 'What is the remedy?' Quoth\nthe weaver, 'Pay down the fee.' So she paid him a dirhem and he\ngave her medicines contrary to that ailment and such as would\naggravate the patient's malady.\n\nWhen Galen saw what appeared to him of the [mock] physician's\nincapacity, he turned to his disciples and pupils and bade them\nfetch the other, with all his gear and drugs. So they brought him\ninto his presence on the speediest wise, and when Galen saw him\nbefore him, he said to him, 'Knowest thou me?' ' No,' answered\nthe other, 'nor did I ever set eyes on thee before this day.'\nQuoth the sage, 'Dost thou know Galen?' And the weaver said,\n'No.' Then said Galen, 'What prompted thee to that which thou\ndost?' So he related to him his story and gave him to know of the\ndowry and the obligation by which he was bound with regard to his\nwife, whereat Galen marvelled and certified himself of the matter\nof the dower.\n\nThen he bade lodge him near himself and was bountiful to him and\ntook him apart and said to him, 'Expound to me the story of the\nphial and whence then knewest that the water therein was that of\na man, and he a stranger and a Jew, and that his ailment was\nindigestion?' ' It is well,' answered the weaver. ' Thou must\nknow that we people of Persia are skilled in physiognomy[FN#23]\nand I saw the woman to be rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed and tall. Now\nthese attributes belong to women who are enamoured of a man and\nare distraught for love of him;[FN#24] moreover, I saw her\nconsumed [with anxiety]; wherefore I knew that the patient was\nher husband. As for his strangerhood, I observed that the woman's\nattire differed from that of the people of the city, wherefore I\nknew that she was a stranger; and in the mouth of the phial I\nespied a yellow rag,[FN#25] whereby I knew that the patient was a\nJew and she a Jewess. Moreover, she came to me on the first day\n[of the week];[FN#26] and it is the Jews' custom to take\npottages[FN#27] and meats that have been dressed overnight[FN#28]\nand eat them on the Sabbath day,[FN#29] hot and cold, and they\nexceed in eating; wherefore indigestion betideth them. On this\nwise I was directed and guessed that which thou hast heard.'\n\nWhen Galen heard this, he ordered the weaver the amount of his\nwife's dowry and bade him pay it to her and divorce her.\nMoreover, he forbade him from returning to the practice of physic\nand warned him never again to take to wife a woman of better\ncondition than himself; and he gave him his spending-money and\nbade him return to his [former] craft. Nor,\" added the vizier,\n\"is this more extraordinary or rarer than the story of the two\nsharpers who cozened each his fellow.\"\n\nWhen King Shah Bekht heard this, he said in himself, \"How like is\nthis story to my present case with this vizier, who hath not his\nlike!\" Then he bade him depart to his own house and come again at\neventide.\n\n              The Twenty-First Night of the Month.\n\nWhen came the night, the vizier presented himself before the\nking, who bade him relate the [promised] story. So he said,\n\"Hearkening and obedience. Know, Out\n\n\n\n\n\n             STORY OF THE TWO SHARPERS WHO CHEATED\n                        EACH HIS FELLOW.\n\n\n\nThere was once, in the city of Baghdad, a man, [by name El\nMerouzi,][FN#30] who was a sharper and plagued[FN#31] the folk\nwith his knavish tricks, and he was renowned in all quarters [for\nroguery]. [He went out one day], carrying a load of sheep's dung,\nand took an oath that he would not return to his lodging till he\nhad sold it at the price of raisins. Now there was in another\ncity a second sharper, [by name Er Razi,][FN#32] one of its\npeople, who [went out the same day], bearing a load of goat's\ndung, which he had sworn that he would not sell but at the price\nof dried figs.\n\nSo each of them fared on with that which was with him and gave\nnot over going till they met in one of the inns[FN#33] and each\ncomplained to the other of that which he had abidden of travel\n[in quest of custom] and of the lack of demand for his wares. Now\neach of them had it in mind to cheat his fellow; so El Merouzi\nsaid to Er Razi, 'Wilt thou sell me that?' 'Yes,' answered he,\nand the other continued, 'And wilt thou buy that which is with\nme?' Er Razi assented; so they agreed upon this and each of them\nsold his fellow that which was with him [in exchange for the\nother's ware]; after which they bade each other farewell and\nparted. As soon as they were out of each other's sight, they\nexamined their loads, to see what was therein, and one of them\nfound that he had a load of sheep's dung and the other that he\nhad a load of goat's dung; whereupon each of them turned back in\nquest of his fellow. They met in the inn aforesaid and laughed at\neach other and cancelling their bargain, agreed to enter into\npartnership and that all that they had of money and other good\nshould be in common between them, share and share alike.\n\nThen said Er Razi to El Merouzi, 'Come with me to my city, for\nthat it is nearer [than thine].' So he went with him, and when he\ncame to his lodging, he said to his wife and household and\nneighbours, 'This is my brother, who hath been absent in the land\nof Khorassan and is come back.' And he abode with him in all\nhonour and worship three days' space. On the fourth day, Er Razi\nsaid to him, 'Know, O my brother, that I purpose to do somewhat'\n'What is it?' asked El Merouzi. Quoth the other, 'I mean to feign\nmyself dead and do thou go to the market and hire two porters and\na bier. [Then come back and take me up and go round about the\nstreets and markets with me and collect alms on my\naccount.][FN#34]\n\nAccordingly El Merouzi repaired to the market and fetching that\nwhich he sought, returned to Er Razi's house, where he found the\nlatter cast down in the vestibule, with his beard tied and his\neyes shut; and indeed, his colour was paled and his belly blown\nout and his limbs relaxed. So he deemed him in truth dead and\nshook him; but he spoke not; and he took a knife and pricked him\nin the legs, but he stirred not. Then said Er Razi, 'What is\nthis, O fool?' And El Merouzi answered, 'Methought thou wast dead\nin very sooth.' Quoth Er Razi, 'Get thee to seriousness and leave\njesting.' So he took him up and went with him to the market and\ncollected [alms] for him that day till eventide, when he carried\nhim back to his lodging and waited till the morrow.\n\nNext morning, he again took up the bier and went round with it as\nbefore, in quest of alms. Presently, the master of police, who\nwas of those who had given alms on account of the supposed dead\nman on the previous day, met him; so he was angered and fell on\nthe porters and beat them and took the [supposed] dead body,\nsaying, 'I will bury him and earn the reward [of God].'[FN#35] So\nhis men took him up and carrying him to the prefecture, fetched\ngrave-diggers, who dug him a grave. Then they bought him a shroud\nand perfumes[FN#36] and fetched an old man of the quarter, to\nwash him. So he recited over him [the appointed prayers and\nportions of the Koran] and laying him on the bench, washed him\nand shrouded him. After he had shrouded him, he voided;[FN#37] so\nhe renewed the washing and went away to make his\nablutions,[FN#38] whilst all the folk departed, likewise, to make\nthe [obligatory] ablution, previously to the funeral.\n\nWhen the dead man found himself alone, he sprang up, as he were a\nSatan, and donning the washer's clothes,[FN#39] took the bowls\nand water-can and wrapped them up in the napkins. Then be took\nhis shroud under his arm and went out. The doorkeepers thought\nthat he was the washer and said to him, 'Hast thou made an end of\nthe washing, so we may tell the Amir?' 'Yes,' answered the\nsharper and made off to his lodging, where he found El Merouzi\nsoliciting his wife and saying to her, 'Nay, by thy life, thou\nwilt never again look upon his face; for that by this time he is\nburied. I myself escaped not from them but after travail and\ntrouble, and if he speak, they will put him to death.' Quoth she,\n'And what wilt thou have of me?' 'Accomplish my desire of thee,'\nanswered he, 'and heal my disorder, for I am better than thy\nhusband.' And he fell a-toying with her.\n\nWhen Er Razi heard this, he said, 'Yonder wittol lusteth after my\nwife; but I will do him a mischief.' Then he rushed in upon them,\nand when El Merouzi saw him, he marvelled at him and said to him,\n'How didst thou make thine escape?' So he told him the trick he\nhad played and they abode talking of that which they had\ncollected from the folk [by way of alms], and indeed they had\ngotten great store of money. Then said El Merouzi, 'Verily, mine\nabsence hath been prolonged and fain would I return to my own\ncountry.' Quoth Er Rasi,' As thou wilt;' and the other said, 'Let\nus divide the money we have gotten and do thou go with me to my\ncountry, so I may show thee my tricks and my fashions.' 'Come\nto-morrow,' replied Er Razi, 'and we will divide the money.'\n\nSo El Merouzi went away and the other turned to his wife and said\nto her, 'We have gotten us great plenty of money, and yonder dog\nwould fain take the half of it; but this shall never be, for that\nmy mind hath been changed against him, since I heard him solicit\nthee; wherefore I purpose to play him a trick and enjoy all the\nmoney; and do not thou cross me.' ' It is well,' answered she,\nand he said to her, '[To-morrow] at day-peep I will feign myself\ndead and do thou cry out and tear thy hair, whereupon the folk\nwill flock to me. Then lay me out and bury me, and when the folk\nare gone away [from the burial-place], do thou dig down to me and\ntake me; and have no fear for me, for I can abide two days in the\ntomb [without hurt].' And she answered, 'Do what thou wilt.'\n\nSo, when it was the foredawn hour, she tied his beard and\nspreading a veil over him, cried out, whereupon the people of the\nquarter flocked to her, men and women. Presently, up came El\nMerouzi, for the division of the money, and hearing the crying\n[of the mourners], said, 'What is to do?\" Quoth they, 'Thy\nbrother is dead;' and he said in himself, 'The accursed fellow\nputteth a cheat on me, so he may get all the money for himself,\nbut I will do with him what shall soon bring him to life again.'\nThen he rent the bosom of his gown and uncovered his head,\nweeping and saying, 'Alas, my brother! Alas, my chief! Alas, my\nlord!' And he went in to the men, who rose and condoled with him.\nThen he accosted Er Razi's wife and said to her, 'How came his\ndeath about?' 'I know not,' answered she, 'except that, when I\narose in the morning, I found him dead.' Moreover, he questioned\nher of the money and good that was with her, but she said, 'I\nhave no knowledge of this and no tidings.'\n\nSo he sat down at the sharper's head, and said to him, 'Know, O\nRazi, that I will not leave thee till after ten days and their\nnights, wherein I will wake and sleep by thy grave. So arise and\nbe not a fool.' But he answered him not and El Merouzi [drew his\nknife and] fell to sticking it into the other's hands and feet,\nthinking to make him move; but [he stirred not and] he presently\ngrew weary of this and concluded that the sharper was dead in\ngood earnest. [However, he still misdoubted of the case] and said\nin himself, 'This fellow is dissembling, so he may enjoy all the\nmoney.' Therewith he addressed himself to prepare him [for\nburial] and bought him perfumes and what [not else] was needed.\nThen they brought him to the washing-place and El Merouzi came to\nhim and heating water till it boiled and bubbled and a third of\nit was wasted,[FN#40] fell to pouring it on his skin, so that it\nturned red and blue and blistered; but he abode still on one case\n[and stirred not].\n\nSo they wrapped him in the shroud and set him on the bier. Then\nthey took up his bier and bearing him to the burial-place, laid\nhim in the grave[FN#41] and threw the earth over him; after which\nthe folk dispersed, but El Merouzi and the widow abode by the\ntomb, weeping, and gave not over sitting till sundown, when the\nwoman said to him, 'Come, let us go to the house, for this\nweeping will not profit us, nor will it restore the dead.' 'By\nAllah,' answered the sharper, 'I will not budge hence till I have\nslept and waked by this tomb ten days, with their nights!' When\nshe heard this his speech, she feared lest he should keep his\nword and his oath, and so her husband perish; but she said in\nherself, 'This fellow dissembleth: if I go away and return to my\nhouse, he will abide by him a little while and go away.' And El\nMerouzi said to her, 'Arise, thou, and go away.'\n\nSo she arose and returned to her house, whilst El Merouzi abode\nin his place till the night was half spent, when he said to\nhimself, 'How long [is this to last]? Yet how can I let this\nknavish dog die and lose the money? Methinks I were better open\nthe tomb on him and bring him forth and take my due of him by\ndint of grievous beating and torment.' Accordingly, he dug him up\nand pulled him forth of the tomb; after which he betook himself\nto an orchard hard by the burial-ground and cut thence staves and\npalm sticks. Then he tied the dead man's legs and came down on\nhim with the staff and beat him grievously; but he stirred not.\nWhen the time grew long on him, his shoulders became weary and he\nfeared lest some one of the watch should pass on his round and\nsurprise him. So he took up Er Razi and carrying him forth of the\ncemetery, stayed not till he came to the Magians' burying-place\nand casting him down in a sepulchre[FN#42] there, rained heavy\nblows upon him till his shoulders failed him, but the other\nstirred not Then he sat down by his side and rested; after which\nhe rose and renewed the beating upon him, [but to no better\neffect; and thus he did] till the end of the night\n\nNow, as destiny would have it, a band of thieves, whose use it\nwas, whenas they had stolen aught, to resort to that place and\ndivide [their booty], came thither [that night], as of their\nwont; and they were ten in number and had with them wealth\ngalore, which they were carrying. When they drew near the\nsepulchre, they heard a noise of blows within it and the captain\nsaid, 'This is a Magian whom the angels[FN#43] are tormenting.'\nSo they entered [the burial-ground] and when they came over\nagainst El Merouzi, he feared lest they should be the officers of\nthe watch come upon him, wherefore he [arose and] fled and stood\namong the tombs.[FN#44] The thieves came up to the place and\nfinding Er Razi bound by the feet and by him near seventy sticks,\nmarvelled at this with an exceeding wonderment and said, 'God\nconfound thee! This was sure an infidel, a man of many crimes;\nfor, behold, the earth hath rejected him from her womb, and by my\nlife, he is yet fresh! This is his first night [in the tomb] and\nthe angels were tormenting him but now; so whosoever of you hath\na sin upon his conscience, let him beat him, as a propitiatory\noffering to God the Most High.' And the thieves said, 'We all\nhave sins upon our consciences.'\n\nSo each of them went up to the [supposed] dead man and dealt him\nnigh upon a hundred blows, exclaiming the while, one, 'This is\nfor[FN#45] my father!' and another, 'This is for my grandfather!'\nwhilst a third said, 'This is for my brother!' and a fourth,\n'This is for my mother!' And they gave not over taking turns at\nhim and beating him, till they were weary, what while El Merouzi\nstood laughing and saying in himself, 'It is not I alone who have\nentered into sin against him. There is no power and no virtue\nsave in God the Most High, the Supreme!'\n\nThen the thieves addressed themselves to sharing their booty and\npresently fell out concerning a sword that was among the spoil,\nwho should take it. Quoth the captain, 'Methinks we were better\nprove it; so, if it be good, we shall know its worth, and if it\nbe ill, we shall know that.' And they said, 'Try it on this dead\nman, for he is fresh.' So the captain took the sword and drawing\nit, poised it and brandished it; but, when Er Razi saw this, he\nmade sure of death and said in himself, 'I have borne the washing\nand the boiling water and the pricking with the knife and the\ngrave and its straitness and all this [beating], trusting in God\nthat I might be delivered from death, and [hitherto] I have been\ndelivered; but, as for the sword, I may not brook that, for but\none stroke of it, and I am a dead man.'\n\nSo saying, he sprang to his feet and catching up the thigh-bone\nof one of the dead, cried out at the top of his voice, saying, 'O\nye dead, take them!' And he smote one of them, whilst his comrade\n[El Merouzi] smote another and they cried out at them and\nbuffeted them on the napes of their necks; whereupon the thieves\nleft that which was with them of plunder and fled; and indeed\ntheir wits forsook them [for terror] and they stayed not in their\nflight till they came forth of the Magians' burial-ground and\nleft it a parasang's length behind them, when they halted,\ntrembling and affrighted for the soreness of that which had\nbetided them of fear and amazement at the dead.\n\nAs for Er Razi and El Merouzi, they made peace with each other\nand sat down to share the booty. Quoth El Merouzi, 'I will not\ngive thee a dirhem of this money, till thou pay me my due of the\nmoney that is in thy house.' And Er Razi said 'I will not do it,\nnor will I subtract this from aught of my due.' So they fell out\nupon this and disputed with one another and each went saying to\nhis fellow, 'I will not give thee a dirhem!' And words ran high\nbetween them and contention was prolonged.\n\nMeanwhile, when the thieves halted, one of them said to the\nothers, 'Let us return and see;' and the captain said, 'This\nthing is impossible of the dead: never heard we that they came to\nlife on this wise. So let us return and take our good, for that\nthe dead have no occasion for good.' And they were divided in\nopinion as to returning: but [presently they came to a decision\nand] said, 'Indeed, our arms are gone and we cannot avail against\nthem and will not draw near the place where they are: only let\none of us [go thither and] look at it, and if he hear no sound of\nthem, let him advertise us what we shall do.' So they agreed that\nthey should send a man of them and assigned him [for this\nservice] two parts [of the booty].\n\nAccordingly, he returned to the burial-ground and gave not over\ngoing till he stood at the door of the sepulchre, when he heard\nEl Merouzi say to his fellow, 'I will not give thee a single\ndirhem of the money!' The other said the like and they were\noccupied with contention and mutual revilement and talk. So the\nthief returned in haste to his fellows, who said, 'What is behind\nthee?' Quoth he, 'Get you gone and flee for your lives and save\nyourselves, O fools; for that much people of the dead are come to\nlife and between them are words and contention.' So the thieves\nfled, whilst the two sharpers retained to Er Razi's house and\nmade peace with one another and laid the thieves' purchase to the\nmoney they had gotten aforetime and lived a while of time. Nor, O\nking of the age,\" added the vizier, \"is this rarer or more\nmarvellous than the story of the four sharpers with the\nmoney-changer and the ass.\"\n\nWhen the king heard this story, he smiled and it pleased him and\nhe bade the vizier go away to his own house.\n\n             The Twenty-Second Night of the Month.\n\nWhen the evening evened, the king summoned the vizier and\nrequired of him the hearing of the [promised] story. So he said,\n\"Hearkening and obedience. Know, O king, that\n\n\n\n\n\n                 STORY OF THE SHARPERS WITH THE\n                   MONEY-CHANGER AND THE ASS.\n\n\n\nFour sharpers once plotted against a money-changer, a man of\nabounding wealth, and agreed upon a device for the taking of\nsomewhat of his money. So one of them took an ass and laying on\nit a bag, wherein was money, lighted down at the money-changer's\nshop and sought of him change for the money. The money- changer\nbrought out to him the change and bartered it with him, whilst\nthe sharper was easy with him in the matter of the exchange, so\nhe might give him confidence in himself. [As they were thus\nengaged,] up came the [other three] sharpers and surrounded the\nass; and one of them said, '[It is] he,' and another said, 'Wait\ntill I look at him.' Then he fell to looking on the ass and\nstroking him from his mane to his crupper; whilst the third went\nup to him and handled him and felt him from head to tail, saying,\n' Yes, [it is] in him.' Quoth another, ['Nay,] it is not in him.'\nAnd they gave not over doing the like of this.\n\nThen they accosted the owner of the ass and chaffered with him\nand he said, 'I will not sell him but for ten thousand dirhems.'\nThey offered him a thousand dirhems; but he refused and swore\nthat he would not sell the ass but for that which he had said.\nThey ceased not to add to their bidding, till the price reached\nfive thousand dirhems, whilst their fellow still said, 'I will\nnot sell him but for ten thousand dirhems.' The money-changer\ncounselled him to sell, but he would not do this and said to him,\n'Harkye, gaffer! Thou hast no knowledge of this ass's case.\nConcern thyself with silver and gold and what pertaineth thereto\nof change and exchange; for indeed the virtue of this ass passeth\nthy comprehension. To every craft its craftsman and to every\nmeans of livelihood its folk.'\n\nWhen the affair was prolonged upon the three sharpers, they went\naway and sat down a little apart; then they came up to the\nmoney-changer privily and said to him, 'If thou canst buy him for\nus, do so, and we will give thee a score of dirhems.' Quoth he,\n'Go away and sit down afar from him.' So they did his bidding and\nthe money-changer went up to the owner of the ass and gave not\nover tempting him with money and cajoling him and saying, 'Leave\nyonder fellows and sell me the ass, and I will reckon him a gift\nfrom thee,' till he consented to sell him the ass for five\nthousand and five hundred dirhems. Accordingly the money-changer\ncounted down to him five thousand and five hundred dirhems of his\nown money, and the owner of the ass took the price and delivered\nthe ass to him, saying, 'Whatsoever betideth, though he abide a\ndeposit about thy neck,[FN#46] sell him not to yonder rogues for\nless than ten thousand dirhems, for that they would fain buy him\nbecause of a hidden treasure whereof they know, and nought can\nguide them thereto but this ass. So close thy hand on him and\ngainsay me not, or thou wilt repent.'\n\nSo saying, he left him and went away, whereupon up came the three\nother sharpers, the comrades of him of the ass, and said to the\nmoney-changer, 'God requite thee for us with good, for that thou\nhast bought him! How can we requite thee!' Quoth he, 'I will not\nsell him but for ten thousand dirhems.' When they heard this,\nthey returned to the ass and fell again to examining him and\nhandling him. Then said they to the money-changer, 'We were\nmistaken in him. This is not the ass we sought and he is not\nworth more than half a score paras to us.' Then they left him and\noffered to go away, whereat the money-changer was sore chagrined\nand cried out at their speech, saying, 'O folk, ye besought me to\nbuy him for you and now I have bought him, ye say, \"We were\ndeceived [in him], and he is not worth more than ten paras to\nus.\"' Quoth they, 'We supposed that in him was that which we\ndesired; but, behold, in him is the contrary of that which we\nwant; and indeed he hath a default, for that he is short of\nback.' And they scoffed at him and went away from him and\ndispersed.\n\nThe money-changer thought they did but finesse with him, that\nthey might get the ass at their own price; but, when they went\naway from him and he had long in vain awaited their return, he\ncried out, saying, 'Woe!' and 'Ruin!' and 'Alack, my sorry\nchance!' and shrieked aloud and tore his clothes. So the people\nof the market assembled to him and questioned him of his case;\nwhereupon he acquainted them with his plight and told them what\nthe sharpers had said and how they had beguiled him and how it\nwas they who had cajoled him into buying an ass worth half a\nhundred dirhems[FN#47] for five thousand and five hundred.[FN#48]\nHis friends blamed him and a company of the folk laughed at him\nand marvelled at his folly and his credulity in accepting the\nsharpers' talk, without suspicion, and meddling with that which\nhe understood not and thrusting himself into that whereof he was\nnot assured.\n\nOn this wise, O King Shah Bekht,\" continued the vizier, \"is the\nissue of eagerness for [the goods of] the world and covetise of\nthat which our knowledge embraceth not; indeed, [whoso doth thus]\nshall perish and repent Nor, O king of the age, (added he) is\nthis story more extraordinary than that of the sharper and the\nmerchants.\"\n\nWhen the king heard this story, he said in himself, \"Verily, had\nI given ear to the sayings of my courtiers and inclined to the\nidle prate [of those who counselled me] in the matter of [the\nslaying of] my vizier, I had repented to the utterest of\nrepentance, but praised be God, who hath disposed me to\nmansuetude and long-suffering and hath endowed me with patience!\"\nThen he turned to the vizier and bade him return to his dwelling\nand [dismissed] those who were present, as of wont.\n\n              The Twenty-Third Night of the Month.\n\nWhen the evening evened, the king sent after the vizier and when\nhe presented himself before him, he required of him the hearing\nof the [promised] story. So he said, \"Hearkening and obedience.\nKnow, O illustrious lord, that\n\n\n\n\n\n            STORY OF THE SHARPER AND THE MERCHANTS.\n\n\n\nThere was once aforetime a certain sharper, who [was so eloquent\nthat he] would turn the ear inside out, and he was a man of\nunderstanding and quick wit and skill and perfection. It was his\nwont to enter a town and [give himself out as a merchant and]\nmake a show of trafficking and insinuate himself into the\nintimacy of people of worth and consort with the merchants, for\nhe was [apparently] distinguished for virtue and piety. Then he\nwould put a cheat on them and take [of them] what he might spend\nand go away to another city; and he ceased not to do thus a great\nwhile.\n\nIt befell one day that he entered a certain city and sold\nsomewhat that was with him of merchandise and got him friends of\nthe merchants of the place and fell to sitting with them and\nentertaining them and inviting them to his lodging and his\nassembly, whilst they also invited him to their houses. On this\nwise he abode a long while, till he was minded to leave the city;\nand this was bruited abroad among his friends, who were concerned\nfor parting from him. Then he betook himself to him of them, who\nwas the richest of them in substance and the most apparent of\nthem in generosity, and sat with him and borrowed his goods; and\nwhen he was about to take leave, he desired him to give him the\ndeposit that he had left with him. 'And what is the deposit?'\nasked the merchant. Quoth the sharper, 'It is such a purse, with\nthe thousand dinars therein.' And the merchant said, 'When didst\nthou give it me?' 'Extolled be the perfection of God!' replied\nthe sharper. 'Was it not on such a day, by such a token, and thus\nand thus?' 'I know not of this,' rejoined the merchant, and words\nwere bandied about between them, whilst the folk [who were\npresent also] disputed together concerning their affair and their\nspeech, till their voices rose high and the neighbours had\nknowledge of that which passed between them.\n\nThen said the sharper, 'O folk, this is my friend and I deposited\nwith him a deposit, but he denieth it; so in whom shall the folk\nput trust after this?' And they said, 'This [FN#49] is a man of\nworth and we have found in him nought but trustiness and loyality\nand good breeding, and he is endowed with understanding and\ngenerosity. Indeed, he avoucheth no falsehood, for that we have\nconsorted with him and mixed with him and he with us and we know\nthe sincerity of his religion.' Then quoth one of them to the\nmerchant, 'Harkye, such an one! Bethink thee and consult thy\nmemory. It may not be but that thou hast forgotten.' But he said,\n'O folk, I know nothing of that which he saith, for indeed he\ndeposited nought with me.' And the affair was prolonged between\nthem. Then said the sharper to the merchant, 'I am about to make\na journey and have, praised be God the Most High, wealth galore,\nand this money shall not escape me; but do thou swear to me.' And\nthe folk said, 'Indeed, this man doth justice upon\nhimself.'[FN#50] Whereupon the merchant fell into that which he\nmisliked[FN#51] and came near upon [suffering] loss and ill\nrepute.\n\nNow he had a friend, who pretended to quickwittedness and\nunderstanding; so he came up to him privily and said to him, 'Let\nme do, so I may put the change on this trickster, for I know him\nto be a liar and thou art near upon having to pay the money; but\nI will turn suspicion from thee and say to him, \"The deposit is\nwith me and thou erredst in imagining that it was with other than\nmyself,\" and so divert him from thee.' 'Do so,' replied the\nmerchant, 'and rid the folk of their [false] debts.'\n\nSo the friend turned to the sharper and said to him, 'O my lord,\nO such an one, thou goest under a delusion. The purse is with me,\nfor it was with me that thou depositedst it, and this elder is\ninnocent of it.' But the sharper answered him with impatience and\nimpetuosity, saying, 'Extolled be the perfection of God! As for\nthe purse that is with thee, O noble and trusty man, I know that\nit is in the warrant of God and my heart is at ease concerning\nit, for that it is with thee as it were with me; but I began by\ndemanding that which I deposited with this man, of my knowledge\nthat he coveteth the folk's good.' At this the friend was\nconfounded and put to silence and returned not an answer; [and\nthe] only [result of his interference was that] each of them\n[FN#52] paid a thousand dinars.\n\nSo the sharper took the two thousand dinars and made off; and\nwhen he was gone, the merchant said to his friend, the\n[self-styled] man of wit and intelligence, 'Harkye, such an one!\nThou and I are like unto the hawk and the locust.' 'What was\ntheir case?' asked the other; and the merchant said,\n\n\n\n\n\n               STORY OF THE HAWK AND THE LOCUST.\n\n\n\n'There was once, of old time, a hawk who made himself a nest hard\nby that of a locust, and the latter gloried in his neighbourhood\nand betaking herself to him, saluted him and said, \"O my lord and\nchief of the birds, indeed the nearness unto thee delighteth me\nand thou honourest me with thy neighbourhood and my soul is\nfortified with thee.\" The hawk thanked her for this and there\nensued friendship between them. One day, the locust said to the\nhawk, \"O chief of the birds, how cometh it that I see thee alone,\nsolitary, having with thee no friend of thy kind of the birds, to\nwhom thou mayst incline in time of easance and of whom thou mayst\nseek succour in time of stress? Indeed, it is said, 'Man goeth\nabout seeking the ease of his body and the preservation of his\nstrength, and in this there is nought more necessary to him than\na friend who shall be the completion of his gladness and the\nmainstay of his life and on whom shall be his dependence in his\nstress and in his ease.' Now I, albeit I ardently desire thy weal\nin that which beseemeth thy condition, yet am I weak [and unable]\nunto that which the soul craveth; but, if thou wilt give me\nleave, I will seek out for thee one of the birds who shall be\nconformable unto thee in thy body and thy strength.\" And the hawk\nsaid, \"I commit this to thee and rely upon thee therein.\"\n\nTherewithal, O my brother, the locust fell to going round about\namong the company of the birds, but saw nought resembling the\nhawk in bulk and body save the kite and deemed well of her. So\nshe brought the hawk and the kite together and counselled the\nformer to make friends with the latter. Now it chanced that the\nhawk fell sick and the kite abode with him a long while [and\ntended him] till he recovered and became whole and strong;\nwherefore he thanked her [and she departed from him]. But after\nawhile the hawk's sickness returned to him and he needed the\nkite's succour. So the locust went out from him and was absent\nfrom him a day, after which she returned to him with a[nother]\nlocust, [FN#53] saying, \"I have brought thee this one.\" When the\nhawk saw her, he said, \"God requite thee with good! Indeed, thou\nhast done well in the quest and hast been subtle in the choice.\"\n\nAll this, O my brother,' continued the merchant, 'befell because\nthe locust had no knowledge of the secret essence that lieth hid\nin apparent bodies. As for thee, O my brother, (may God requite\nthee with good!) thou wast subtle in device and usedst\nprecaution; but precaution sufficeth not against fate, and\nfortune fore-ordained baffleth contrivance. How excellent is the\nsaying of the poet! And he recited the following verses:\n\nIt chances whiles that the blind man escapes a pit, Whilst he who\n     is clear of sight falls into it.\nThe ignorant man may speak with impunity A word that is death to\n     the wise and the ripe of wit.\nThe true believer is pinched for his daily bread, Whilst infidel\n     rogues enjoy all benefit.\nWhere is a man's resource and what can he do? It is the\n     Almighty's will; we most submit.\n\nNor,\" added the vizier, \"is this, O king of the age, more\nextraordinary or stranger than the story of the king and his\nchamberlain's wife; nay, the latter is rarer than this and more\ndelightsome.\"\n\nWhen the king heard this story, he was fortified in his resolve\nto spare the vizier and to leave haste in an affair whereof he\nwas not assured; so he comforted him and bade him withdraw to his\nlodging.\n\n             The Twenty-Fourth Night of the Month.\n\nWhen it was night, the king summoned the vizier and sought of him\nthe hearing of the [promised] story. \"Hearkening and obedience,\"\nreplied Er Rehwan, \"Know, O august king, that\n\n\n\n\n\n            STORY OF THE KING AND HIS CHAMBERLAIN'S\n                             WIFE.\n\n\n\nThere was once, of old days and in bygone ages and times, a king\nof the kings of the Persians, who was passionately addicted to\nthe love of women. His courtiers bespoke him of the wife of a\nchamberlain of his chamberlains, for that she was endowed with\nbeauty and loveliness and perfection, and this prompted him to go\nin to her. When she saw him, she knew him and said to him, 'What\nprompteth the king unto this that he doth?' And he answered,\nsaying, 'Verily, I yearn after thee with an exceeding yearning\nand needs must I enjoy thy favours.' And he gave her of wealth\nthat after the like whereof women hanker; but she said, 'I cannot\ndo that whereof the king speaketh, for fear of my husband.' And\nshe refused herself to him with the most rigorous of refusals and\nwould not do his desire. So the king went out, full of wrath, and\nforgot his girdle in the place.\n\nPresently, her husband entered and saw the girdle and knew it.\nNow he was ware of the king's love for women; so he said to his\nwife, ' What is this that I see with thee?' Quoth she, 'I will\ntell thee the truth,' and recounted to him the story; but he\nbelieved her not and doubt entered into his heart. As for the\nking, he passed that night in chagrin and concern, and when it\nmorrowed, he summoned the chamberlain and investing him with the\ngovernance of one of his provinces, bade him betake himself\nthither, purposing, after he should have departed and come to his\ndestination, to foregather with his wife. The chamberlain\nperceived [his intent] and knew his design; so he answered,\nsaying, 'Hearkening and obedience. I will go and set my affairs\nin order and give such charges as may be necessary for the\nwelfare of my estate; then will I go about the king's occasion.'\nAnd the king said, 'Do this and hasten.'\n\nSo the chamberlain went about that which he needed and assembling\nhis wife's kinsfolk, said to them, 'I am resolved to put away my\nwife.' They took this ill of him and complained of him and\nsummoning him before the king, sat pleading with him. Now the\nking had no knowledge of that which had passed; so he said to the\nchamberlain, 'Why wilt thou put her away and how can thy soul\nconsent unto this and why takest thou unto thyself a goodly piece\nof land and after forsakest it? 'May God amend the king!'\nanswered the husband. 'By Allah, O king, I saw therein the track\nof the lion and fear to enter the land, lest the lion devour me;\nand indeed the like of my affair with her is that which befell\nbetween the old woman and the draper's wife.' 'What is their\nstory?' asked the king; and the chamberlain said, 'Know, O king,\nthat\n\n\n\n\n\n            STORY OF THE OLD WOMAN AND THE DRAPER'S\n                             WIFE.\n\n\n\nThere was once a man of the drapers, who had a fair wife, and she\nwas curtained [FN#54] and chaste. A certain young man saw her\ncoming forth of the bath and loved her and his heart was occupied\nwith her. So he cast about [to get access to her] with all manner\nof devices, but availed not to win to her; and when he was weary\nof endeavour and his patience was exhausted for weariness and his\nfortitude failed him and he was at an end of his resources\nagainst her, he complained of this to an old woman of ill-omen,\n[FN#55] who promised him to bring about union between him and\nher. He thanked her for this and promised her all manner of good;\nand she said to him, \"Get thee to her husband and buy of him a\nturban-cloth of fine linen, and let it be of the goodliest of\nstuffs.\"\n\nSo he repaired to the draper and buying of him a turban-cloth of\nlawn, returned with it to the old woman, who took it and burned\nit in two places. Then she donned devotees' apparel and taking\nthe turban-cloth with her, went to the draper's house and knocked\nat the door. When the draper's wife saw her, she opened to her\nand received her kindly and made much of her and welcomed her. So\nthe old woman went in to her and conversed with her awhile. Then\nsaid she to her, \"[I desire to make] the ablution [preparatory]\nto prayer.\" So the wife brought her water and she made the\nablution and standing up to pray, prayed and did her occasion.\nWhen she had made an end of her prayers, she left the\nturban-cloth in the place of prayer and went away.\n\nPresently, in came the draper, at the hour of evening prayer, and\nsitting down in the place where the old woman had prayed, looked\nabout him and espied the turban. He knew it [for that which he\nhad that day sold to the young man] and misdoubted of the case,\nwherefore anger appeared in his face and he was wroth with his\nwife and reviled her and abode his day and his night, without\nspeaking to her, what while she knew not the cause of his anger.\nThen she looked and seeing the turban-cloth before him and noting\nthe traces of burning thereon, understood that his anger was on\naccount of this and concluded that he was wroth because it was\nburnt.\n\nWhen the morning morrowed, the draper went out, still angered\nagainst his wife, and the old woman returned to her and found her\nchanged of colour, pale of face, dejected and heart-broken. [So\nshe questioned her of the cause of her dejection and she told her\nhow her husband was angered against her (as she supposed) on\naccount of the burns in the turban-cloth.] \"O my daughter,\"\nrejoined the old woman, \"be not concerned; for I have a son, a\nfine-drawer, and he, by thy life, shall fine-draw [the holes] and\nrestore the turban-cloth as it was. \"The wife rejoiced in her\nsaying and said to her, \"And when shall this be?\" \"To-morrow, if\nit please God the Most High,\" answered the old woman, \"I will\nbring him to thee, at the time of thy husband's going forth from\nthee, and he shall mend it and depart forth-right.\" Then she\ncomforted her heart and going forth from her, returned to the\nyoung man and told him what had passed.\n\nNow, when the draper saw the turban-cloth, he resolved to put\naway his wife and waited but till he should get together that\nwhich was obligatory on him of the dowry and what not\nelse,[FN#56] for fear of her people. When the old woman arose in\nthe morning, she took the young man and carried him to the\ndraper's house. The wife opened the door to her and the\nill-omened old woman entered with him and said to the lady, \"Go,\nfetch that which thou wouldst have fine-drawn and give it to my\nson.\" So saying, she locked the door on her, whereupon the young\nman forced her and did his occasion of her and went forth. Then\nsaid the old woman to her, \"Know that this is my son and that he\nloved thee with an exceeding love and was like to lose his life\nfor longing after thee. So I practised on thee with this device\nand came to thee with this turban-cloth, which is not thy\nhusband's, but my son's. Now have I accomplished my desire; so do\nthou trust in me and I will put a trick on thy husband for the\nsetting thee right with him, and thou wilt be obedient to me and\nto him and to my son.\"[FN#57] And the wife answered, saying, \"It\nis well. Do so.\"\n\nSo the old woman returned to the lover and said to him, \"I have\nskilfully contrived the affair for thee with her; [and now it\nbehoveth us to amend that we have marred]. So go now and sit with\nthe draper and bespeak him of the turban-cloth, [saying, 'The\nturban-cloth I bought of thee I chanced to burn in two places; so\nI gave it to a certain old woman, to get mended, and she took it\nand went away, and I know not her dwelling-place.'] When thou\nseest me pass by, rise and lay hold of me [and demand of me the\nturban-cloth], to the intent that I may amend her case with her\nhusband and that thou mayst be even with her.\" So he repaired to\nthe draper's shop and sat down by him and said to him, \"Thou\nknowest the turban-cloth I bought of thee?\" \"Yes,\" answered the\ndraper, and the other said, \"Knowest thou what is come of it?\"\n\"No,\" replied the husband, and the youth said, \"After I bought it\nof thee, I fumigated myself[FN#58] and it befell that the\nturban-cloth was burnt in two places. So I gave it to a woman,\nwhose son, they said, was a fine-drawer, and she took it and went\naway with it; and I know not her abiding-place.\" When the draper\nheard this, he misdoubted him [of having wrongly suspected his\nwife] and marvelled at the story of the turban-cloth, and his\nmind was set at ease concerning her.\n\nPresently, up came the old woman, whereupon the young man sprang\nto his feet and laying hold of her, demanded of her the\nturban-cloth. Quoth she, \"Know that I entered one of the houses\nand made the ablution and prayed in the place of prayer; and I\nforgot the turban-cloth there and went out. Now I know not the\nhouse in which I prayed, nor have I been directed[FN#59] thereto,\nand I go round about every day till the night, so haply I may\nlight on it, for I know not its owner.\" When the draper heard\nthis, he said to the old woman, \"Verily, Allah restoreth unto\nthee vhat which thou hast lost. Rejoice, for the turban-cloth is\nwith me and in my house.\" And he arose forthright and gave her\nthe turban-cloth, as it was. She gave it to the young man, and\nthe draper made his peace with his wife and gave her raiment and\njewellery, [by way of peace-offering], till she was content and\nher heart was appeased. [FN#60]\n\nWhen the king heard his chamberlain's story, he was confounded\nand abashed and said to him, 'Abide on thy wonted service and\ntill thy land, for that the lion entered it, but marred it not,\nand he will never more return thither.'[FN#61] Then he bestowed\non him a dress of honour and made him a sumptuous present; and\nthe man returned to his wife and people, rejoicing and glad, for\nthat his heart was set at rest concerning his wife. Nor,\" added\nthe vizier, \"O king of the age, is this rarer or more\nextraordinary than the story of the fair and lovely woman,\nendowed with amorous grace, with the foul-favoured man.\"\n\nWhen the king heard the vizier's speech, he deemed it goodly and\nit pleased him; so he bade him go away to his house, and there he\nabode his day long.\n\n              The Twenty-fifth Night of the Month.\n\nWhen the evening evened, the king summoned his vizier and bade\nhim tell the [promised] story. So he said, \"It is well. Know, O\nking, that\n\n\n\n\n\n             STORY OF THE FOUL-FAVOURED MAN AND HIS\n                           FAIR WIFE.\n\n\n\nThere was once a man of the Arabs who had a number of sons, and\namongst them a boy, never was seen a fairer than he of favour nor\na more accomplished in loveliness, no, nor a more perfect of wit.\nWhen he came to man's estate, his father married him to the\ndaughter of one of his uncles, and she excelled not in beauty,\nneither was she praiseworthy of attributes; wherefore she pleased\nnot the youth, but he bore with her, for kinship's sake.\n\nOne day, he went forth in quest of certain stray camels of his\nand fared on all his day and night till eventide, when he [came\nto an Arab encampment and] was fain to seek hospitality of one of\nthe inhabitants. So he alighted at one of the tents of the camp\nand there came forth to him a man of short stature and loathly\naspect, who saluted him and lodging him in a corner of the tent,\nsat entertaining him with talk, the goodliest that might be. When\nhis food was dressed, the Arab's wife brought it to the guest,\nand he looked at the mistress of the tent and saw a favour than\nwhich no goodlier might be. Indeed, her beauty and grace and\nsymmetry amazed him and he abode confounded, looking now at her\nand now at her husband. When his looking grew long, the man said\nto him, 'Harkye, O son of the worthy! Occupy thyself with thine\nown concerns, for by me and this woman hangeth a rare story, that\nis yet goodlier than that which thou seest of her beauty; and\nwhen we have made an end of our food, I will tell it thee.'\n\nSo, when they had made an end of eating and drinking, the young\nman asked his host for the story, and he said, 'Know that in my\nyouth I was even as thou seest me in the matter of loathliness\nand foul favour; and I had brethren of the comeliest of the folk;\nwherefore my father preferred them over me and used to show them\nkindness, to my exclusion, and employ me, in their room [in\nmenial service], like as one employeth slaves. One day, a\nshe-camel of his went astray and he said to me, \"Go thou forth in\nquest of her and return not but with her.\" Quoth I, \"Send other\nthan I of thy sons.\" But he would not consent to this and reviled\nme and insisted upon me, till the matter came to such a pass with\nhim that he took a whip and fell to beating me. So I arose and\ntaking a riding-camel, mounted her and sallied forth at a\nventure, purposing to go out into the deserts and return to him\nno more. I fared on all my night [and the next day] and coming at\neventide to [the encampment of] this my wife's people, alighted\ndown with her father, who was a very old man, and became his\nguest.\n\nWhen the night was half spent, I arose [and went forth the tent]\nto do an occasion of mine, and none knew of my case save this\nwoman. The dogs misdoubted of me and followed me and gave not\nover besetting me, till I fell on my back into a deep pit,\nwherein was water, and one of the dogs fell in with me. The\nwoman, who was then a girl in the first bloom of youth, full of\nstrength and spirit, was moved to pity on me, for that wherein I\nwas fallen, and coming to me with a rope, said to me, \"Lay hold\nof this rope.\" So I laid hold of the rope and clung to it and she\npulled me up; but, when I was halfway up, I pulled her [down] and\nshe fell with me into the pit; and there we abode three days, she\nand I and the dog.\n\nWhen her people arose in the morning and saw her not, they sought\nher in the camp, but, finding her not and missing me also,\ndoubted not but she had fled with me. Now she had four brothers,\nas they were falcons, and they mounted and dispersed in quest of\nus. When the day dawned [on the fourth morning], the dog began to\nbark and the other dogs answered him and coming to the mouth of\nthe pit, stood howling to him. My wife's father, hearing the\nhowling of the dogs, came up and standing at the brink of the\npit, [looked in and] beheld a marvel. Now he was a man of valour\nand understanding, an elder versed[FN#62] in affairs so he\nfetched a rope and bringing us both forth, questioned us of our\ncase. I told him all that had betided and he abode pondering the\naffair.\n\nPresently, her brothers returned, whereupon the old man\nacquainted them with the whole case and said to them, \"O my sons,\nknow that your sister purposed not aught but good, and if ye slay\nthis man, ye will earn abiding reproach and ye will wrong him,\nay, and wrong yourselves and your sister, to boot; for indeed\nthere appeareth no cause [of offence] such as calleth for\nslaughter, and it may not be denied that this incident is a thing\nthe like whereof may well betide and that he may well have been\nbaffled by the like of this chance.\" Then he turned to me and\nquestioned me of my lineage; so I set forth to him my genealogy\nand he said, \"A man of equal rank, honourable [and]\nunderstanding.\" And he offered me [his daughter in] marriage. I\nconsented to him of this and marrying her, took up my abode with\nhim and God the Most High hath opened on me the gates of weal and\nfortune, so that I am become the most abounding in substance of\nthe folk of the tribe; and He hath stablished me in that which He\nhath given me of His bounties.'\n\nThe young man marvelled at his story and lay the night with him;\nand when he arose in the morning, he found his strays. So he took\nthem and returning [to his family.], acquainted them with what he\nhad seen and that which had betided him. Nor,\" added the vizier,\n\"is this more marvellous or rarer than the story of the king who\nlost kingdom and wealth and wife and children and God restored\nthem unto him and requited him with a kingdom more magnificent\nthan that which he had lost and goodlier and rarer and greater of\nwealth and elevation.\"\n\nThe vizier's story pleased the king and he bade depart to his\ndwelling.\n\n              The Twenty-Sixth Night of the Month.\n\nWhen came the night, the king summoned his vizier and bade him\ntell the story of the king who lost kingdom and wife and wealth.\n\"Hearkening and obedience,\" replied Er Rehwan. \"Know, O king,\nthat\n\n\n\n\n\n             STORY OF THE KING WHO LOST KINGDOM AND\n            WIFE AND WEALTH AND GOD RESTORED THEM TO\n                              HIM.\n\n\n\nThere was once a king of the kings of Hind, who was goodly of\npolity, praiseworthy in administration, just to his subjects,\nbeneficent to men of learning and piety and asceticism and\ndevoutness and worship and shunning traitors and froward folk and\nthose of lewd life. On this wise of polity he abode in his\nkingship what God the Most High willed of days and hours and\nyears, and he married the daughter of his father's brother, a\nbeautiful and lovesome woman, endowed with brightness and\nperfection, who had been reared in the king's house in splendour\nand delight. She bore him two sons, the comeliest that might be\nof boys. Then came fore-ordained fate, which there is no warding\noff, and God the Most High raised up against the king another\nking, who came forth upon his realm, and all the folk of the\ncity, who had a mind unto evil and lewdness, joined themselves\nunto him. So he fortified himself against the king and made\nhimself master of his kingdom, putting his troops to the rout and\nslaying his guards.\n\nThe king took his wife, the mother of his sons, and what he might\n[of good] and saved himself and fled in the darkness of the\nnight, unknowing whither he should go. When travel grew sore upon\nthem, there met them robbers by the way, who took all that was\nwith them, [even to their clothes], so that there was left unto\neach of them but a shirt and trousers; yea, they left them\nwithout victual or camels or [other] riding-cattle, and they\nceased not to fare on afoot, till they came to a coppice, to wit,\na garden of trees, on the shore of the sea. Now the road which\nthey would have followed was crossed by an arm of the sea, but it\nwas scant of water. So, when they came to that place, the king\ntook up one of his children and fording the water with him, set\nhim down on the other bank and returned for his other son. Him\nalso he set by his brother and returning for their mother, took\nher up and passing the water with her, came to the place [where\nhe had left his children], but found them not. Then he looked at\nthe midst of the island and saw there an old man and an old\nwoman, engaged in making themselves a hut of reeds. So he put\ndown his wife over against them and set off in quest of his\nchildren, but none gave him news of them and he went round about\nright and left, but found not the place where they were.\n\nNow the children had entered the coppice, to make water, and\nthere was there a forest of trees, wherein, if a horseman\nentered, he might wander by the week, [before finding his way\nout], for none knew the first thereof from the last. So the boys\nentered therein and knew not how they should return and went\nastray in that wood, to an end that was willed of God the Most\nHigh, whilst their father sought them, but found them not. So he\nreturned to their mother and they abode weeping for their\nchildren. As for these latter, when they entered the wood, it\nswallowed them up and they went wandering in it many days,\nknowing not where they had entered, till they came forth, at\nanother side, upon the open country.\n\nMeanwhile, the king and queen abode in the island, over against\nthe old man and woman, and ate of the fruits that were in the\nisland and drank of its waters, till, one day, as they sat, there\ncame a ship and moored to the side of the island, to fill up with\nwater, whereupon they[FN#63] looked at each other and spoke. The\nmaster of the ship was a Magian and all that was therein, both\nmen and goods, belonged to him, for that he was a merchant and\nwent round about the world. Now covetise deluded the old man, the\nowner of the island, and he went up [into the ship] and gave the\nMagian news of the king's wife, setting out to him her charms,\ntill he made him yearn unto her and his soul prompted him to use\ntreachery and practise upon her and take her from her hnsband. So\nhe sent to her, saying, 'With us in the ship is a woman with\nchild, and we fear lest she be delivered this night. Hast thou\nskill in the delivering of women?' And she answered, 'Yes.' Now\nit was the last of the day; so he sent to her to come up into the\nship and deliver the woman, for that the pangs of labour were\ncome upon her; and he promised her clothes and spending-money.\nAccordingly, she embarked in all assurance, with a heart at ease\nfor herself, and transported her gear to the ship; but no sooner\nwas she come thither than the anchors were weighed and the canvas\nspread and the ship set sail.\n\nWhen the king saw this, he cried out and his wife wept in the\nship and offered to cast herself into the sea; but the Magian\nbade the sailors lay hands on her. So they seized her and it was\nbut a little while ere the night darkened and the ship\ndisappeared from the king's eyes; whereupon he swooned away for\nexcess of weeping and lamentation and passed his night bewailing\nhis wife and children.\n\nWhen the morning morrowed, he recited the following verses:\n\nHow long, O Fate, wilt thou oppress and baffle me?\nTell me, was ever yet a mortal spared of thee?\n     Behold, my loved ones all are ta'en from me away.\nThey left me and content forthright forsook my heart,\nUpon that day my loves my presence did depart;\n     My pleasant life for loss of friends is troubled aye.\nBy Allah, I knew not their worth nor yet how dear\nA good it is to have one's loved ones ever near,\n     Until they left my heart on fire without allay.\nNe'er shall I them forget, nay, nor the day they went\nAnd left me all forlorn, to pine for languishment,\n     My severance to bewail in torment and dismay.\nI make a vow to God, if ever day or night\nThe herald of good news my hearing shall delight,\n     Announcing the return o' th' absent ones,\nI'll lay Upon their threshold's dust my cheeks and to my soul,\n\"Take comfort, for the loved are come again,\"\nI'll say. If for my loved ones' loss I rent my heart for dole,\n     Before I rent my clothes, reproach me not, I pray.\n\nHe abode weeping for the loss of his wife and children till the\nmorning, when he went forth wandering at a venture, knowing not\nwhat he should do, and gave not over faring along the sea-shore\ndays and nights, unknowing whither he went and taking no food\ntherein other than the herbs of the earth and seeing neither man\nnor beast nor other living thing, till his travel brought him to\nthe top of a mountain. He took up his sojourn in the mountain and\nabode there [awhile] alone, eating of its fruits and drinking of\nits waters. Then he came down thence and fared on along the high\nroad three days, at the end of which time he came upon tilled\nfields and villages and gave not over going till he sighted a\ngreat city on the shore of the sea and came to the gate thereof\nat the last of the day. The gatekeepers suffered him not to\nenter; so he abode his night anhungred, and when he arose in the\nmorning, be sat down hard by the gate.\n\nNow the king of the city was dead and had left no son, and the\ntownsfolk fell out concerning who should be king over them: and\ntheir sayings differed and their counsels, so that turmoil was\nlike to betide between them by reason of this. At last, after\nlong dissension, they came to an accord and agreed to leave the\nchoice to the late king's elephant and that he unto whom he\nconsented should be king and that they would not contest the\ncommandment with him. So they made oath of this and on the\nmorrow, they brought out the elephant and came forth to the\nutterward of the city; nor was there man or woman left in the\nplace but was present at that time. Then they adorned the\nelephant and setting up the throne on his back, gave him the\ncrown in his trunk; and he went round about examining the faces\nof the folk, but stopped not with any of them till he came to the\nbanished king, the forlorn, the exile, him who had lost his\nchildren and his wife, when he prostrated himself to him and\nplacing the crown on his head, took him up and set him on his\nback.\n\nThereupon the folk all prostrated themselves and gave one another\njoy of this and the drums of good tidings beat before him, and he\nentered the city [and went on] till he came to the House of\nJustice and the audience-hall of the palace and sat down on the\nthrone of the kingdom, with the crown on his head; whereupon the\nfolk came in to him to give him joy and offer up prayers for him.\nThen he addressed himself, after his wont in the kingship, to\nordering the affairs of the folk and ranging the troops according\nto their ranks and looking into their affairs and those of all\nthe people. Moreover, he released those who were in the prisons\nand abolished the customs dues and gave dresses of honour and\nbestowed gifts and largesse and conferred favours on the amirs\nand viziers and dignitaries, and the chamberlains and deputies\npresented themselves before him and did him homage. So the people\nof the city rejoiced in him and said, 'Indeed this is none other\nthan a king of the greatest of the kings.'\n\nMoreover, he assembled the sages and the theologians and the sons\nof the kings and devised with them and asked them questions and\nproblems and examined with them into many things of all fashions\nthat might direct him to well-doing in the kingly office; and he\nquestioned them also of subtleties and religious obligations and\nof the laws of the kingdom and the fashions of administration and\nof that which it behoveth the king to do of looking into the\naffairs of the people and repelling the enemy [from the realm]\nand fending off his malice with war; wherefore the people's\ncontentment redoubled and their joy in that which God the Most\nHigh had vouchsafed them of his elevation to the kingship over\nthem. So he upheld the ordinance of the realm and the affairs\nthereof abode established upon the accepted customs.\n\nNow the late king had left a wife and a daughter, and the people\nwould fain have married the latter to the new king, to the intent\nthat the kingship might not pass out of the old royal family. So\nthey proposed to him that he should take her to wife, and he\npromised them this, but put them off from him,[FN#64] of his\nrespect for the covenant he had made with his former wife, to\nwit, that he would take none other to wife than herself. Then he\nbetook himself to fasting by day and standing up by night [to\npray], giving alms galore and beseeching God (extolled be His\nperfection and exalted be He!) to reunite him with his children\nand his wife, the daughter of his father's brother.\n\nWhen a year had elapsed, there came to the city a ship, wherein\nwere merchants and goods galore. Now it was of their usance, from\ntime immemorial, that, when there came a ship to the city, the\nking sent unto it such of his servants as he trusted in, who took\ncharge of the goods, so they might be [first of all] shown to the\nking, who bought such of them as befitted him and gave the\nmerchants leave to sell the rest. So he sent, as of wont, one who\nshould go up to the ship and seal up the goods and set over them\nwho should keep watch over them.\n\nTo return to the queen his wife. When the Magian fled with her,\nhe proffered himself to her and lavished unto her wealth galore,\nbut she rejected his suit and was like to slay herself for\nchagrin at that which had befallen and for grief for her\nseparation from her husband. Moreover, she refused meat and drink\nand offered to cast herself into the sea; but the Magian shackled\nher and straitened her and clad her in a gown of wool and said to\nher, 'I will continue thee in misery and abjection till thou obey\nme and consent to my wishes.' So she took patience and looked for\nGod to deliver her from the hand of that accursed one; and she\nceased not to travel with him from place to place till he came\nwith her to the city wherein her husband was king and his goods\nwere put under seal.\n\nNow the woman was in a chest and two youths of the pages of the\nlate king, who were now in the new king's service, were those who\nhad been charged with the guardianship of the vessel and the\ngoods. When the evening evened on them, the two youths fell\na-talking and recounted that which had befallen them in their\ndays of childhood and the manner of the going forth of their\nfather and mother from their country and royal estate, whenas the\nwicked overcame their land, and [called to mind] how they had\ngone astray in the forest and how fate had made severance between\nthem and their parents; brief, they recounted their story, from\nbeginning to end. When the woman heard their talk, she knew that\nthey were her very sons and cried out to them from the chest,\nsaying, 'I am your mother such an one, and the token between you\nand me is thus and thus.' The young men knew the token and\nfalling upon the chest, broke the lock and brought out their\nmother, who strained them to her breast, and they fell upon her\nand swooned away, all three.\n\nWhen they came to themselves, they wept awhile and the folk\nassembled about them, marvelling at that which they saw, and\nquestioned them of their case. So the young men vied with each\nother who should be the first to discover the story to the folk;\nand when the Magian saw this, he came up, crying out, 'Alas!' and\n'Woe worth the day!' and said to them, 'Why have ye broken open\nmy chest? I had in it jewels and ye have stolen them, and this\ndamsel is my slave-girl and she hath agreed with you upon a\ndevice to take the good.' Then he rent his clothes and called\naloud for succour, saying, 'I appeal to God and to the just king,\nso he may quit me of these wrong-doing youths!' Quoth they, 'This\nis our mother and thou stolest her.' Then words waxed many\nbetween them and the folk plunged into talk and prate and\ndiscussion concerning their affair and that of the [pretended]\nslave-girl, and the strife waxed amain between them, so that [at\nlast] they carried them up to the king.\n\nWhen the two young men presented themselves before him and set\nforth their case to him and to the folk and the king heard their\nspeech, he knew them and his heart was like to fly for joyance in\nthem: the tears poured from his eyes at their sight and that of\nhis wife, and he thanked God the Most High and praised Him for\nthat He had reunited [him with] them. Then he dismissed the folk\nwho were present about him and bade commit the Magian and the\nwoman and the two youths to his armoury[FN#65] [for the night],\ncommanding that they should keep guard over them till God caused\nthe morning morrow, so he might assemble the cadis and the judges\nand assessors and judge between them, according to the Holy Law,\nin the presence of the four cadis. So they did his bidding and\nthe king passed the night praying and praising God the Most High\nfor that which He had vouchsafed him of kingship and puissance\nand victory over[FN#66] him who had wronged him and thanking Him\nwho had reunited him with his family.\n\nWhen the morning morrowed, he assembled the cadis and judges and\nassessors and sending for the Magian and the two youths and their\nmother, questioned them of their case, whereupon the two young\nmen began and said, 'We are the sons of the king Such-an-one and\nenemies and wicked men got the mastery of out realm; so our\nfather fled forth with us and wandered at a venture, for fear of\nthe enemies.' [And they recounted to him all that had betided\nthem, from beginning to end.] Quoth he, 'Ye tell a marvellous\nstory; but what hath [Fate] done with your father?' 'We know not\nhow fortune dealt with him after our loss,' answered they; and he\nwas silent.\n\nThen he turned to the woman and said to her, 'And thou, what\nsayst thou?' So she expounded to him her case and recounted to\nhim all that had betided her and her husband, first and last, up\nto the time when they took up their abode with the old man and\nwoman who dwelt on the sea-shore. Then she set out that which the\nMagian had practised on her of knavery and how he had carried her\noff in the ship and all that had betided her of humiliation and\ntorment, what while the cadis and judges and deputies hearkened\nto her speech. When the king heard the last of his wife's story,\nhe said, 'Verily, there hath betided thee a grievous matter; but\nhast thou knowledge of what thy husband did and what came of his\naffair?' 'Nay, by Allah,' answered she; 'I have no knowledge of\nhim, save that I leave him no hour unremembered in fervent\nprayer, and never, whilst I live, will he cease to be to me the\nfather of my children and my father's brother's son and my flesh\nand my blood.' Then she wept and the king bowed his head, whilst\nhis eyes brimmed over with tears at her story.\n\nThen he raised his head to the Magian and said to him, 'Say thy\nsay, thou also.' So the Magian said, 'This is my slave-girl, whom\nI bought with my money from such a land and for so many dinars,\nand I made her my favourite[FN#67] and loved her with an\nexceeding love and gave her charge over my good; but she betrayed\nme in my substance and plotted with one of my servants to slay\nme, tempting him by promising him that she would be his wife.\nWhen I knew this of her and was certified that she purposed\ntreason against me, I awoke [from my heedlessness] and did with\nher that which I did, of fear for myself from her craft and\nperfidy; for indeed she is a beguiler with her tongue and she\nhath taught these two youths this pretence, by way of trickery\nand of her perfidy and malice: so be thou not deluded by her and\nby her talk.'\n\n'Thou liest, O accursed one,' cried the king and bade lay hands\non him and clap him in irons. Then he turned to the two youths,\nhis sons, and strained them to his breast, weeping sore and\nsaying, 'O all ye who are present of cadis and assessors and\nofficers of state, know that these twain are my sons and that\nthis is my wife and the daughter of my father's brother; for that\nI was king aforetime in such a region.' And he recounted to them\nhis history from beginning to end, nor is there aught of profit\nin repetition; whereupon the folk cried out with weeping and\nlamentation for the stress of that which they heard of marvellous\nchances and that rare story. As for the king's wife, he caused\ncarry her into his palace and lavished upon her and upon her sons\nall that behoved and beseemed them of bounties, whilst the folk\nflocked to offer up prayers for him and give him joy of [his\nreunion with] his wife and children.\n\nWhen they had made an end of pious wishes and congratulations,\nthey besought the king to hasten the punishment of the Magian and\nheal their hearts of him with torment and humiliation. So he\nappointed them for a day on which they should assemble to witness\nhis punishment and that which should betide him of torment, and\nshut himself up with his wife and sons and abode thus private\nwith them three days, during which time they were sequestered\nfrom the folk. On the fourth day the king entered the bath, and\ncoming forth, sat down on the throne of his kingship, with the\ncrown on his head, whereupon the folk came in to him, according\nto their wont and after the measure of their several ranks and\ndegrees, and the amirs and viziers entered, ay, and the\nchamberlains and deputies and captains and men of war and the\nfalconers and armbearers. Then he seated his two sons, one on his\nright and the other on his left hand, whilst all the folk stood\nbefore him and lifted up their voices in thanksgiving to God the\nMost High and glorification of Him and were strenuous in prayer\nfor the king and in setting forth his virtues and excellences.\n\nHe returned them the most gracious of answers and bade carry the\nMagian forth of the town and set him on a high scaffold that had\nbeen builded for him there; and he said to the folk, 'Behold, I\nwill torture him with all kinds of fashions of torment.' Then he\nfell to telling them that which he had wrought of knavery with\nthe daughter of his father's brother and what he had caused\nbetide her of severance between her and her husband and how he\nhad required her of herself, but she had sought refuge against\nhim with God (to whom belong might and majesty) and chose rather\nhumiliation than yield to his wishes, notwithstanding stress of\ntorment; neither recked she aught of that which he lavished to\nher of wealth and raiment and jewels.\n\nWhen the king had made an end of his story, he bade the\nbystanders spit in the Magian's face and curse him; and they did\nthis. Then he bade cut out his tongue and on the morrow he bade\ncut off his ears and nose and pluck out his eyes. On the third\nday he bade cut off his hands and on the fourth his feet; and\nthey ceased not to lop him limb from limb, and each member they\ncast into the fire, after its cutting-off, before his face, till\nhis soul departed, after he had endured torments of all kinds and\nfashions. The king bade crucify his trunk on the city-wall three\ndays' space; after which he let burn it and reduce its ashes to\npowder and scatter them abroad in the air.\n\nThen the king summoned the cadi and the witnesses and bade them\nmany the old king's daughter and sister to his own sons; so they\nmarried them, after the king had made a bride-feast three days\nand displayed their brides to them from eventide to peep of day.\nThen the two princes went in to their brides and did away their\nmaidenhead and loved them and were vouchsafed children by them.\n\nAs for the king their father, he abode with his wife, their\nmother, what while God (to whom belong might and majesty) willed,\nand they rejoiced in reunion with each other. The kingship\nendured unto them and glory and victory, and the king continued\nto rule with justice and equity, so that the people loved him and\nstill invoked on him and on his sons length of days and durance;\nand they lived the most delightsome of lives till there came to\nthem the Destroyer of Delights and Sunderer of Companies, He who\nlayeth waste the palaces and peopleth the tombs; and this is all\nthat hath come down to us of the story of the king and his wife\nand children. Nor,\" added the vizier, \"if this story be a solace\nand a diversion, is it pleasanter or more diverting than that of\nthe young man of Khorassan and his mother and sister.\"\n\nWhen King Shah Bekht heard this story, it pleased him and he bade\nthe vizier go away to his own house.\n\n             The Twenty-Seventh Night of the Month\n\nWhen the evening came, the king bade fetch the vizier; so he\npresented himself before him and the king bade him tell the\n[promised] story. So he said, \"Hearkening and obedience. Know, O\nking (but God alone knoweth His secret purpose and is versed in\nall that is past and was foredone among bygone peoples), that\n\n\n\n\n\n                   STORY OF SELIM AND SELMA.\n\n\n\nThere was once, in the parts of Khorassan, a man of the affluent\nof the country, who was a merchant of the chiefest of the\nmerchants and was blessed with two children, a son and a\ndaughter. He was assiduous in rearing them and making fair their\neducation, and they grew up and throve after the goodliest\nfashion. He used to teach the boy, who taught his sister all that\nhe learnt, so that the girl became perfect in the knowledge of\nthe Traditions of the Prophet and in polite letters, by means of\nher brother. Now the boy's name was Selim and that of the girl\nSelma. When they grew up and waxed, their father built them a\nmansion beside his own and lodged them apart therein and\nappointed them slave-girls and servants to tend them and assigned\nunto each of them pensions and allowances and all that they\nneeded of high and low, meat and bread and wine and raiment and\nvessels and what not else. So Selim and Selma abode in that\nmansion, as they were one soul in two bodies, and they used to\nsleep on one couch; and rooted in each one's heart was love and\naffection and familiar friendship [for the other of them].\n\nOne night, when the night was half spent, as Selim and Selma sat\ntalking and devising with each other, they heard a noise below\nthe house; so they looked out from a lattice that gave upon the\ngate of their father's mansion and saw a man of goodly presence,\nwhose clothes were hidden by a wide cloak, which covered him. He\ncame up to the gate and laying hold of the door-ring, gave a\nlight knock; whereupon the door opened and out came their sister,\nwith a lighted flambeau, and after her their mother, who saluted\nthe stranger and embraced him, saying, 'O beloved of my heart and\nlight of mine eyes and fruit of mine entrails, enter.' So he\nentered and shut the door, whilst Selim and Selma abode amazed.\n\nThen Selim turned to Selma and said to her, 'O sister mine, how\ndeemest thou of this calamity and what counsellest thou\nthereanent?' 'O my brother,' answered she, 'indeed I know not\nwhat I shall say concerning the like of this; but he is not\ndisappointed who seeketh direction [of God], nor doth he repent\nwho taketh counsel. One getteth not the better of the traces of\nburning by[FN#68] haste, and know that this is an affliction that\nhath descended on us; and we have need of management to do it\naway, yea, and contrivance to wash withal our shame from our\nfaces.' And they gave not over watching the gate till break of\nday, when the young man opened the door and their mother took\nleave of him; after which he went his way and she entered, she\nand her handmaid.\n\nThen said Selim to his sister, 'Know that I am resolved to slay\nyonder man, if he return this next night, and I will say to the\nfolk, \"He was a thief,\" and none shall know that which hath\nbefallen. Moreover, I will address myself to the slaughter of\nwhosoever knoweth that which is between yonder fellow and my\nmother.' But Selma said, ' I fear lest, if thou slay him in our\ndwelling-place and he savour not of robberhood,[FN#69] suspicion\nwill revert upon ourselves, and we cannot be assured but that he\nbelongeth unto folk whose mischief is to be feared and their\nhostility dreaded,[FN#70] and thus wilt thou have fled from privy\nshame to open shame and abiding public dishonour.' 'How then\ndeemest thou we should do?' asked Selim and she said, 'Is there\nnothing for it but to slay him? Let us not hasten unto slaughter,\nfor that the slaughter of a soul without just cause is a grave\n[matter].'\n\n(When Shehriyar heard this, he said in himself, 'By Allah, I have\nindeed been reckless in the slaying of women and girls, and\npraised be God who hath occupied me with this damsel from the\nslaughter of souls, for that the slaughter of souls is a grave\n[matter!] By Allah, if Shah Bekht spare the vizier, I will\nassuredly spare Shehrzad!' Then he gave ear to the story and\nheard her say to her sister:)\n\nQuoth Selma to Selim, 'Hasten not to slay him, but ponder the\nmatter and consider the issue to which it may lead; for whoso\nconsidereth not the issues [of his actions], fortune is no friend\nto him.' Then they arose on the morrow and occupied themselves\nwith devising how they should turn away their mother from that\nman, and she forebode mischief from them, by reason of that which\nshe saw in their eyes of alteration, for that she was keen of wit\nand crafty. So she took precaution for herself against her\nchildren and Selma said to Selim, 'Thou seest that whereinto we\nhave fallen through this woman, and indeed she hath gotten wind\nof our purpose and knoweth that we have discovered her secret.\nSo, doubtless, she will plot against us the like of that which we\nplot for her; for indeed up to now she had concealed her affair,\nand now she will forge lies against us; wherefore, methinks,\nthere is a thing [fore-]written to us, whereof God (extolled be\nHis perfection and exalted be He!) knew in His foreknowledge and\nwherein He executeth His ordinances.' 'What is that?' asked he,\nand she said, 'It is that we arise, I and thou, and go forth this\nnight from this land and seek us a land wherein we may live and\nwitness nought of the doings of yonder traitress; for whoso is\nabsent from the eye is absent from the heart, and quoth one of\nthe poets in the following verse:\n\nTwere better and meeter thy presence to leave, For, if the eye\n     see not, the heart doth not grieve.'\n\nQuoth Selim to her, 'It is for thee to decide and excellent is\nthat which thou counsellest; so let us do this, in the name of\nGod the Most High, trusting in Him for grace and guidance.' So\nthey arose and took the richest of their clothes and the lightest\nof that which was in their treasuries of jewels and things of\nprice and gathered together a great matter. Then they equipped\nthem ten mules and hired them servants of other than the people\nof the country; and Selim bade his sister Selma don man's\napparel. Now she was the likest of all creatures to him, so that,\n[when she was clad in man's attire,] the folk knew no difference\nbetween them, extolled be the perfection of Him who hath no like,\nthere is no God but He! Then he bade her mount a horse, whilst he\nhimself bestrode another, and they set out, under cover of the\nnight. None of their family nor of the people of their house knew\nof them; so they fared on into the wide world of God and gave not\nover going night and day two months' space, at the end of which\ntime they came to a city on the sea-shore of the land of Mekran,\nby name Es Sherr, and it is the first city in Sind.\n\nThey lighted down without the place and when they arose in the\nmorning, they saw a populous and goodly city, fair of seeming and\ngreat, abounding in trees and streams and fruits and wide of\nsuburbs. So the young man said to his sister Selma, 'Abide thou\nhere in thy place, till I enter the city and examine it and make\nassay of its people and seek out a place which we may buy and\nwhither we may remove. If it befit us, we will take up our abode\ntherein, else will we take counsel of departing elsewhither.'\nQuoth she, 'Do this, trusting in the bounty of God (to whom\nbelong might and majesty) and in His blessing.'\n\nSo he took a belt, wherein were a thousand dinars, and binding it\nabout his middle, entered the city and gave not over going round\nabout its streets and markets and gazing upon its houses and\nsitting with those of its folk whose aspect bespoke them men of\nworth, till the day was half spent, when he resolved to return to\nhis sister and said in himself, 'Needs must I buy what we may eat\nof ready-[dressed] food] I and my sister.' Accordingly, he\naccosted a man who sold roast meat and who was clean [of person],\nthough odious in his [means of getting a] living, and said to\nhim, 'Take the price of this dish [of meat] and add thereto of\nfowls and chickens and what not else is in your market of meats\nand sweetmeats and bread and arrange it in dishes.' So the cook\nset apart for him what he desired and calling a porter, laid it\nin his basket, and Selim paid the cook the price of his wares,\nafter the fullest fashion.\n\nAs he was about to go away, the cook said to him, 'O youth,\ndoubtless thou art a stranger?' And he answered, 'Yes.' Quoth the\ncook, 'It is reported in one of the Traditions [of the Prophet\nthat he said,] \"Loyal admonition is [a part] of religion;\" and\nthe understanding say, \"Admonition is of the characteristics of\nthe true believers.\" And indeed that which I have seen of thy\nfashions pleaseth me and I would fain give thee a warning.'\n'Speak out thy warning,' rejoined Selim, 'and may God strengthen\nthine affair!' Then said the cook, 'Know, O my son, that in this\nour country, whenas a stranger entereth therein and eateth of\nflesh-meat and drinketh not old wine thereon, this is harmful\nunto him and engendereth in him dangerous disorders. Wherefore,\nif thou have provided thee somewhat thereof,[FN#71] [it is well;]\nbut, if not, look thou procure it, ere thou take the meat and\ncarry it away.' 'May God requite thee with good!' rejoined Selim.\n'Canst thou direct me where it is sold?' And the cook said, 'With\nme is all that thou seekest thereof.' 'Is there a way for me to\nsee it?' asked the young man; and the cook sprang up and said,\n'Pass on.' So he entered and the cook showed him somewhat of\nwine; but he said, 'I desire better than this.' Whereupon he\nopened a door and entering, said to Selim, 'Enter and follow me.'\n\nSelim followed him till he brought him to an underground chamber\nand showed him somewhat of wine that was to his mind. So he\noccupied him with looking upon it and taking him at unawares,\nsprang upon him from behind and cast him to the earth and sat\nupon his breast. Then he drew a knife and set it to his jugular;\nwhereupon there betided Selim [that wherewithal] God made him\nforget all that He had decreed [unto him],[FN#72] and he said to\nthe cook, 'Why dost thou this thing, O man? Be mindful of God the\nMost High and fear Him. Seest thou not that I am a stranger? And\nindeed [I have left] behind me a defenceless woman. Why wilt thou\nslay me?' Quoth the cook, 'Needs must I slay thee, so I may take\nthy good.' And Selim said, 'Take my good, but slay me not,\nneither enter into sin against me; and do with me kindness, for\nthat the taking of my money is lighter[FN#73] than the taking of\nmy life.'\n\n'This is idle talk,' answered the cook. 'Thou canst not deliver\nthyself with this, O youth, for that in thy deliverance is my\ndestruction.' Quoth Selim, 'I swear to thee and give thee the\ncovenant of God (to whom belong might and majesty) and His bond,\nthat He took of His prophets, that I will not discover thy secret\never.' But the cook answered, saying, 'Away! Away! This may no\nwise be.' However, Selim ceased not to conjure him and make\nsupplication to him and weep, while the cook persisted in his\nintent to slaughter him. Then he wept and recited the following\nverses:\n\nHaste not to that thou dost desire, for haste is still unblest;\n     Be merciful to men, as thou on mercy reckonest;\nFor no hand is there but the hand of God is over it And no\n     oppressor but shall be with worse than he opprest.\n\nQuoth the cook, 'Nothing will serve but I must slay thee, O\nfellow; for, if I spare thee, I shall myself be slain.' But Selim\nsaid, 'O my brother, I will counsel thee somewhat[FN#74] other\nthan this.' 'What is it?' asked the cook. 'Say and be brief, ere\nI cut thy throat' And Selim said, '[Do thou suffer me to live\nand] keep me, that I may be a servant unto thee, and I will work\nat a craft, of the crafts of the skilled workmen, wherefrom there\nshall return to thee every day two dinars.' Quoth the cook, 'What\nis the craft?' and Selim said, 'The cutting [and polishing] of\njewels.'\n\nWhen the cook heard this, he said in himself, 'It will do me no\nhurt if I imprison him and shackle him and bring him what he may\nwork at. If he tell truth, I will let him live, and if he prove a\nliar, I will slay him.' So he took a pair of stout shackles and\nclapping them on Selim's legs, imprisoned him within his house\nand set over him one who should guard him. Then he questioned him\nof what tools he needed to work withal. Selim set forth to him\nthat which he required, and the cook went out from him and\npresently returning, brought him all he needed. So Selim sat and\nwrought at his craft; and he used every day to earn two dinars;\nand this was his wont and usance with the cook, whilst the latter\nfed him not but half his fill.\n\nTo return to his sister Selma. She awaited him till the last of\nthe day, but he came not; and she awaited him a second day and a\nthird and a fourth, yet there came no news of him, wherefore she\nwept and beat with her hands on her breast and bethought her of\nher affair and her strangerhood and her brother's absence; and\nshe recited the following verses:\n\nPeace on thee! Would our gaze might light on thee once more! So\n     should our hearts be eased and eyes no longer sore.\nThou only art the whole of our desire; indeed Thy love is hid\n     within our hearts' most secret core.\n\nShe abode awaiting him thus till the end of the month, but\ndiscovered no tidings of him neither happened upon aught of his\ntrace; wherefore she was troubled with an exceeding perturbation\nand despatching her servants hither and thither in quest of him,\nabode in the sorest that might be of grief and concern. When it\nwas the beginning of the new month, she arose in the morning and\nbidding cry him throughout the city, sat to receive visits of\ncondolence, nor was there any in the city but betook himself to\nher, to condole with her; and they were all concerned for her,\nnothing doubting but she was a man.\n\nWhen three nights had passed over her with their days of the\nsecond month, she despaired of him and her tears dried not up.\nThen she resolved to take up her abode in the city and making\nchoice of a dwelling, removed thither. The folk resorted to her\nfrom all parts, to sit with her and hearken to her speech and\nwitness her good breeding; nor was it but a little while ere the\nking of the city died and the folk fell out concerning whom they\nshould invest with the kingship after him, so that strife was\nlike to betide between them. However, the men of judgment and\nunderstanding and the folk of experience counselled them to make\nthe youth king who had lost his brother, for that they doubted\nnot but Selma was a man. They all consented unto this and\nbetaking themselves to Selma, proffered her the kingship. She\nrefused, but they were instant with her, till she consented,\nsaying in herself, 'My sole desire in [accepting] the kingship is\n[to find] my brother.' Then they seated her on the throne of the\nkingdom and set the crown on her head, whereupon she addressed\nherself to the business of administration and to the ordinance of\nthe affairs of the people; and they rejoiced in her with the\nutmost joy.\n\nMeanwhile, Selim abode with the cook a whole year's space,\nearning him two dinars every day; and when his affair was\nprolonged, the cook inclined unto him and took compassion on him,\non condition that, if he let him go, he should not discover his\nfashion to the Sultan, for that it was his wont every little\nwhile to entrap a man and carry him to his house and slay him and\ntake his money and cook his flesh and give it to the folk to eat.\nSo he said to him, 'O youth, wilt thou that I release thee from\nthis thy plight, on condition that thou be reasonable and\ndiscover not aught of thine affair ever?' And Selim answered, 'I\nwill swear to thee by whatsoever oath thou choosest that I will\nkeep thy secret and will not speak one syllable against thy due,\nwhat while I abide on life.' Quoth the cook, 'I purpose to send\nthee forth with my brother and cause thee travel with him on the\nsea, on condition that thou be unto him a boughten slave; and\nwhen he cometh to the land of Hind, he shall sell thee and thus\nwilt thou be delivered from prison and slaughter.' And Selim\nsaid, 'It is well: be it as thou sayst, may God the Most High\nrequite thee with good!'\n\nTherewithal the cook equipped his brother and freighting him a\nship, embarked therein merchandise. Then he committed Selim unto\nhim and they set out and departed with the ship. God decreed them\nsafety, so that they arrived [in due course] at the first city\n[of the land of Hind], the which is known as El Mensoureh, and\ncast anchor there. Now the king of that city had died, leaving a\ndaughter and a widow, who was the quickest-witted of women and\ngave out that the girl was a boy, so that the kingship might be\nstablished unto them. The troops and the amirs doubted not but\nthat the case was as she avouched and that the princess was a\nmale child; so they obeyed her and the queen mother took order\nfor the matter and used to dress the girl in man's apparel and\nseat her on the throne of the kingship, so that the folk might\nsee her. Accordingly, the grandees of the kingdom and the chief\nofficers of the realm used to go in to her and salute her and do\nher service and go away, nothing doubting but she was a boy.\n\nOn this wise they abode months and years and the queen-mother\nceased not to do thus till the cook's brother came to the town in\nhis ship, and with him Selim. So he landed with the youth and\nshowed him to the queen, [that she might buy him]. When she saw\nhim, she augured well of him; so she bought him from the cook's\nbrother and was kind to him and entreated him with honour. Then\nshe fell to proving him in his parts and making assay of him in\nhis affairs and found in him all that is in kings' sons of\nunderstanding and breeding and goodly manners and qualities.\n\nSo she sent for him in private and said to him, 'I purpose to do\nthee a service, so thou canst but keep a secret.' He promised her\nall that she desired and she discovered to him her secret in the\nmatter of her daughter, saying, 'I will marry thee to her and\ncommit to thee the governance of her affair and make thee king\nand ruler over this city.' He thanked her and promised to uphold\nall that she should order him, and she said to him, 'Go forth to\nsuch an one of the neighbouring provinces privily.' So he went\nforth and on the morrow she made ready bales and gear and\npresents and bestowed on him a great matter, all of which they\nloaded on the backs of camels.\n\nThen she gave out among the folk that the king's father's\nbrother's son was come and bade the grandees and troops go forth\nto meet him. Moreover, she decorated the city in his honour and\nthe drums of good tidings beat for him, whilst all the king's\nhousehold [went out to meet him and] dismounting before him,\n[escorted him to the city and] lodged him with the queen-mother\nin her palace. Then she bade the chiefs of the state attend his\nassembly; so they presented themselves before him and saw of his\nbreeding and accomplishments that which amazed them and made them\nforget the breeding of those who had foregone him of the kings.\n\nWhen they were grown familiar with him, the queen-mother fell to\nsending [privily] for the amirs, one by one, and swearing them to\nsecrecy; and when she was assured of their trustworthiness, she\ndiscovered to them that the king had left but a daughter and that\nshe had done this but that she might continue the kingship in his\nfamily and that the governance should not go forth from them;\nafter which she told them that she was minded to marry her\ndaughter with the new-comer, her father's brother's son, and that\nhe should be the holder of the kingship. They approved of her\nproposal and when she had discovered the secret to the last of\nthem [and assured herself of their support], she published the\nnews abroad and sent for the cadis and assessors, who drew up the\ncontract of marriage between Selim and the princess, and they\nlavished gifts upon the troops and overwhelmed them with\nbounties. Then was the bride carried in procession to the young\nman and the kingship was stablished unto him and the governance\nof the realm.\n\nOn this wise they abode a whole year, at the end of which time\nSelim said to the queen-mother, 'Know that my life is not\npleasing to me nor can I abide with you in contentment till I get\nme tidings of my sister and learn in what issue her affair hath\nresulted and how she hath fared after me. Wherefore I will go and\nbe absent from you a year's space; then will I return to you, so\nit please God the Most High and I accomplish of this that which I\nhope.' Quoth she, 'I will not trust to thy word, but will go with\nthee and help thee to that which thou desirest of this and\nfurther thee myself therein.' So she took a ship and loaded it\nwith all manner things of price, goods and treasures and what not\nelse. Moreover, she appointed one of the viziers, a man in whom\nshe trusted and in his fashion and ordinance, to rule the realm\nin their absence, saying to him, 'Abide [in the kingship] a\nfull-told year and ordain all that whereof thou hast need.\n\nThen the old queen and her daughter and son-in-law embarked in\nthe ship and setting sail, fared on till they came to the land of\nMekran. Their arrival there befell at the last of the day; so\nthey passed the night in the ship, and when the day was near to\nbreak, the young king went down from the ship, that he might go\nto the bath, and made for the market. As he drew near the bath,\nthe cook met him by the way and knew him; so he laid hands on him\nand binding his arms fast behind him, carried him to his house,\nwhere he clapped the old shackles on his feet and straightway\ncast him back into his whilom place of duresse.\n\nWhen Selim found himself in that sorry plight and considered that\nwherewith he was afflicted of tribulation and the contrariness of\nhis fortune, in that he had been a king and was now returned to\nshackles and prison and hunger, he wept and groaned and lamented\nand recited the following verses:\n\nMy fortitude fails, my endeavour is vain; My bosom is straitened.\n     To Thee, I complain,\nO my God! Who is stronger than Thou in resource? The Subtle, Thou\n     knowest my plight and my pain.\n\nTo return to his wife and her mother. When the former arose in\nthe morning and her husband returned not to her with break of\nday, she forebode all manner of calamity and straightway\ndespatched her servants and all who were with her in quest of\nhim; but they happened not on any trace of him neither fell in\nwith aught of his news. So she bethought herself concerning her\naffair and complained and wept and groaned and sighed and blamed\nperfidious fortune, bewailing that sorry chance and reciting\nthese verses:\n\nGod keep the days of love-delight! How passing 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\nWhen she had made an end of her verses, she considered her affair\nand said in herself, 'By Allah, all these things have betided by\nthe ordinance of God the Most High and His providence and this\nwas written and charactered upon the forehead.' Then she landed\nand fared on till she came to a spacious place, where she\nenquired of the folk and hired a house. Thither she straightway\ntransported all that was in the ship of goods and sending for\nbrokers, sold all that was with her. Then she took part of the\nprice and fell to enquiring of the folk, so haply she might scent\nout tidings [of her lost husband]. Moreover, she addressed\nherself to lavishing alms and tending the sick, clothing the\nnaked and pouring water upon the dry ground of the forlorn. On\nthis wise she abode a whole year, and every little while she sold\nof her goods and gave alms to the sick and the needy; wherefore\nher report was bruited abroad in the city and the folk were\nlavish in her praise.\n\nAll this while, Selim lay in shackles and strait prison, and\nmelancholy possessed him by reason of that whereinto he had\nfallen of that tribulation. Then, when troubles waxed on him and\naffliction was prolonged, he fell sick of a sore sickness. When\nthe cook saw his plight (and indeed he was like to perish for\nmuch suffering), he loosed him from the shackles and bringing him\nforth of the prison, committed him to an old woman, who had a\nnose the bigness of a jug, and bade her tend him and medicine him\nand serve him and entreat him kindly, so haply he might be made\nwhole of that his sickness. So the old woman took him and\ncarrying him to her lodging, fell to tending him and giving him\nto eat and drink; and when he was quit of that torment, he\nrecovered from his malady.\n\nNow the old woman had heard from the folk of the lady who gave\nalms to the sick, and indeed [the news of] her bounties reached\nboth poor and rich; so she arose and bringing out Selim to the\ndoor of her house, laid him on a mat and wrapped him in a mantle\nand sat over against him. Presently, it befell that the\ncharitable lady passed by them, which when the old woman saw, she\nrose to her and offered up prayers for her, saying, 'O my\ndaughter, O thou to whom pertain goodness and beneficence and\ncharity and almsdoing, know that this young man is a stranger,\nand indeed want and vermin and hunger and nakedness and cold slay\nhim.' When the lady heard this, she gave her alms of that which\nwas with her; and indeed her heart inclined unto Selim, [but she\nknew him not for her husband].\n\nThe old woman received the alms from her and carrying it to\nSelim, took part thereof herself and with the rest bought him an\nold shirt, in which she clad him, after she had stripped him of\nthat he had on. Then she threw away the gown she had taken from\noff him and arising forthright, washed his body of that which was\nthereon of filth and scented him with somewhat of perfume.\nMoreover, she bought him chickens and made him broth; so he ate\nand his life returned to him and he abode with her on the most\nsolaceful of life till the morrow.\n\nNext morning, the old woman said to him, 'When the lady cometh to\nthee, do thou arise and kiss her hand and say to her, \"I am a\nstrange man and indeed cold and hunger slay me;\" so haply she may\ngive thee somewhat that thou mayst expend upon thy case.' And he\nanswered, 'Hearkening and obedience.' Then she took him by the\nhand and carrying him without her house, seated him at the door.\nAs he sat, behold, the lady came up to him, whereupon the old\nwoman rose to her and Selim kissed her hand and offered up\nprayers for her. Then he looked on her and when he saw her, he\nknew her for his wife; so he cried out and wept and groaned and\nlamented; whereupon she came up to him and cast herself upon him;\nfor indeed she knew him with all knowledge, even as he knew her.\nSo she laid hold of him and embraced him and called to her\nserving-men and attendants and those who were about her; and they\ntook him up and carried him forth of that place.\n\nWhen the old woman saw this, she cried out to the cook from\nwithin the house, and he said to her, 'Go before me.' So she\nforewent him and he ran after her till he [overtook the party\nand] catching hold of Selim, said [to the latter's wife,] 'What\naileth thee to take my servant?' Whereupon she cried out at him,\nsaying, 'Know that this is my husband, whom I had lost.' And\nSelim also cried out, saying, 'Mercy! Mercy! I appeal to God and\nto the Sultan against this Satan!' Therewith the folk gathered\ntogether to them forthright and loud rose the clamours and the\ncries between them; but the most part of them said, 'Refer their\naffair to the Sultan.' So they referred the case to the Sultan,\nwho was none other than Selim's sister Selma.\n\n[Then they went up to the palace and] the interpreter went in to\nSelma and said to her, 'O king of the age, here is an Indian\nwoman, who cometh from the land of Hind, and she hath laid hands\non a young man, a servant, avouching that he is her husband, who\nhath been missing these two years, and she came not hither but on\nhis account, and indeed these many days she hath done almsdeeds\n[in the city]. And here is a man, a cook, who avoucheth that the\nyoung man is his slave.' When the queen heard these words, her\nentrails quivered and she groaned from an aching heart and called\nto mind her brother and that which had betided him. Then she bade\nthose who were about her bring them before her, and when she saw\nthem, she knew her brother and was like to cry aloud; but her\nreason restrained her; yet could she not contain herself, but she\nmust needs rise up and sit down. However, she enforced herself\nunto patience and said to them, 'Let each of you acquaint me with\nhis case.'\n\nSo Selim came forward and kissing the earth before the [supposed]\nking, praised him and related to him his story from beginning to\nend, till the time of their coming to that city, he and his\nsister, telling him how he had entered the place and fallen into\nthe hands of the cook and that which had betided him [with him]\nand what he had suffered from him of beating and bonds and\nshackles and pinioning. Moreover, he told him how the cook had\nmade him his brother's slave and how the latter had sold him in\nHind and he had married the princess and become king and how life\nwas not pleasant to him till he should foregather with his sister\nand how the cook had fallen in with him a second time and\nacquainted her with that which had betided him of sickness and\ndisease for the space of a full-told year.\n\nWhen he had made an end of his speech, his wife came forward\nforthright and told her story, from first to last, how her mother\nbought him from the cook's partner and the people of the kingdom\ncame under his rule; nor did she leave telling till she came, in\nher story, to that city [and acquainted the queen with the manner\nof her falling in with her lost husband]. When she had made an\nend of her story, the cook exclaimed, 'Alack, what impudent liars\nthere be! By Allah, O king, this woman lieth against me, for this\nyouth is my rearling[FN#75] and he was born of one of my\nslave-girls. He fled from me and I found him again.\n\nWhen the queen heard the last of the talk, she said to the cook,\n'The judgment between you shall not be but in accordance with\njustice.' Then she dismissed all those who were present and\nturning to her brother, said to him, 'Indeed thy soothfastness is\nestablished with me and the truth of thy speech, and praised be\nGod who hath brought about union between thee and thy wife! So\nnow begone with her to thy country and leave [seeking] thy sister\nSelma and depart in peace.' But Selim answered, saying, 'By\nAllah, by the virtue of the All-knowing King, I will not turn\nback from seeking my sister till I die or find her, if it please\nGod the Most High!' Then he called his sister to mind and broke\nout with the following verses from a heart endolored, afflicted,\ndisappointed, saying:\n\nO thou that blamest me for my heart and railest at my ill, Hadst\n     them but tasted my spirit's grief, thou wouldst excuse me\n     still.\nBy Allah, O thou that chid'st my heart concerning my sister's\n     love, Leave chiding and rather bemoan my case and help me to\n     my will.\nFor indeed I am mated with longing love in public and privily,\n     Nor ever my heart, alas I will cease from mourning, will I\n     or nill.\nA fire in mine entrails burns, than which the fire of the hells\n     denounced For sinners' torment less scathing is: it seeketh\n     me to slay.\n\nWhen his sister Selma heard what he said, she could no longer\ncontain herself, but cast herself upon him and discovered to him\nher case. When he knew her, he threw himself upon her [and lay\nwithout life] awhile; after which he came to himself and said,\n'Praised be God, the Bountiful, the Beneficent!' Then they\ncomplained to each other of that which they had suffered for the\nanguish of separation, whilst Selim's wife abode wondered at this\nand Selma's patience and constancy pleased her. So she saluted\nher and thanked her for her fashion, saying, 'By Allah, O my\nlady, all that we are in of gladness is of thy blessing alone; so\npraised be God who hath vouchsafed us thy sight!' Then they abode\nall three in joy and happiness and delight three days,\nsequestered from the folk; and it was bruited abroad in the city\nthat the king had found his brother, who was lost years agone.\n\nOn the fourth day, all the troops and the people of the realm\nassembled together to the [supposed] king and standing at his\ngate, craved leave to enter. Selma bade admit them; so they\nentered and paid her the service of the kingship and gave her joy\nof her brother's safe return. She bade them do suit and service\nto Selim, and they consented and paid him homage; after which\nthey kept silence awhile, so they might hear what the king should\ncommand. Then said Selma, 'Harkye, all ye soldiers and subjects,\nye know that ye enforced me to [accept] the kingship and besought\nme thereof and I consented unto your wishes concerning my\ninvestment [with the royal dignity]; and I did this [against my\nwill]; for know that I am a woman and that I disguised myself and\ndonned man's apparel, so haply my case might be hidden, whenas I\nlost my brother. But now, behold, God hath reunited me with my\nbrother, and it is no longer lawful to me that I be king and bear\nrule over the people, and I a woman; for that there is no\ngovernance for women, whenas men are present. Wherefore, if it\nlike you, do ye set my brother on the throne of the kingdom, for\nthis is he; and I will busy myself with the worship of God the\nMost High and thanksgiving [to Him] for my reunion with my\nbrother. Or, if it like you, take your kingship and invest\ntherewith whom ye will.'\n\nThereupon the folk all cried out, saying, 'We accept him to king\nover us!' And they did him suit and service and gave him joy of\nthe kingship. So the preachers preached in his name[FN#76] and\nthe poets praised him; and he lavished gifts upon the troops and\nthe officers of his household and overwhelmed them with favours\nand bounties and was prodigal to the people of justice and\nequitable dealings and goodly usance and polity. When he had\naccomplished this much of his desire, he caused bring forth the\ncook and his household to the divan, but spared the old woman who\nhad tended him, for that she had been the cause of his\ndeliverance. Then they assembled them all without the town and he\ntormented the cook and those who were with him with all manner of\ntorments, after which he put him to death on the sorriest wise\nand burning him with fire, scattered his ashes abroad in the air.\n\nSelim abode in the governance, invested with the sultanate, and\nruled the people a whole year, after which he returned to El\nMensoureh and sojourned there another year. And he [and his wife]\nceased not to go from city to city and abide in this a year and\nthat a year, till he was vouchsafed children and they grew up,\nwhereupon he appointed him of his sons, who was found fitting, to\nbe his deputy in [one] kingdom [and abode himself in the other];\nand he lived, he and his wife and children, what while God the\nMost High willed. Nor,\" added the vizier, \"O king of the age, is\nthis story rarer or more extraordinary than that of the king of\nHind and his wronged and envied vizier.\"\n\nWhen the king heard this, his mind was occupied [with the story\nhe had heard and that which the vizier promised him], and he bade\nthe latter depart to his own house.\n\n         The Twenty-Eighth and Last Night of the Month\n\nWhen the evening evened, the king summoned the vizier and bade\nhim tell the story of the King of Hind and his vizier. So he\nsaid, \"Hearkening and obedience. Know, O king of august lineage,\nthat\n\n\n\n\n\n           STORY OF THE KING OF HIND AND HIS VIZIER.\n\n\n\nThere was once in the land of Hind a king of illustrious station,\nendowed with understanding and good sense, and his name was Shah\nBekht. He had a vizier, a man of worth and intelligence, prudent\nin counsel, conformable to him in his governance and just in his\njudgment; wherefore his enviers were many and many were the\nhypocrites, who sought in him faults and set snares for him, so\nthat they insinuated into King Shah Bekht's eye hatred and\nrancour against him and sowed despite against him in his heart;\nand plot followed after plot, till [at last] the king was brought\nto arrest him and lay him in prison and confiscate his good and\navoid his estate.[FN#77]\n\nWhen they knew that there was left him no estate that the king\nmight covet, they feared lest he be brought to release him, by\nthe incidence of the vizier's [good] counsel upon the king's\nheart, and he return to his former case, so should their plots be\nmarred and their ranks degraded, for that they knew that the king\nwould have need of that which he had known from that man nor\nwould forget that wherewith he was familiar in him. Now it befell\nthat a certain man of corrupt purpose[FN#78] found a way to the\nperversion of the truth and a means of glozing over falsehood and\nadorning it with a semblance of fair-seeming and there proceeded\nfrom him that wherewith the hearts of the folk were occupied, and\ntheir minds were corrupted by his lying tales; for that he made\nuse of Indian subtleties and forged them into a proof for the\ndenial of the Maker, the Creator, extolled be His might and\nexalted be He! Indeed, God is exalted and magnified above the\nspeech of the deniers. He avouched that it is the planets[FN#79]\nthat order the affairs of all creatures and he set down twelve\nmansions to twelve signs [of the Zodiac] and made each sign\nthirty degrees, after the number of the days of the month, so\nthat in twelve mansions there are three hundred and threescore\n[degrees], after the number of the days of the year; and he\nwrought a scheme, wherein he lied and was an infidel and denied\n[God]. Then he got possession of the king's mind and the enviers\nand haters aided him against the vizier and insinuated themselves\ninto his favour and corrupted his counsel against the vizier, so\nthat he suffered of him that which he suffered and he banished\nhim and put him away.\n\nSo the wicked man attained that which he sought of the vizier and\nthe case was prolonged till the affairs of the kingdom became\ndisordered, by dint of ill governance, and the most part of the\nking's empery fell away from him and he came nigh unto ruin.\nTherewithal he was certified of the loyalty of his [late] skilful\nvizier and the excellence of his governance and the justness of\nhis judgment. So he sent after him and brought him and the wicked\nman before him and summoning the grandees of his realm and the\nchiefs of his state to his presence, gave them leave to talk and\ndispute and forbade the wicked man from that his lewd\nopinion.[FN#80] Then arose that wise and skilful vizier and\npraised God the Most High and lauded Him and glorified Him and\nhallowed Him and attested His unity and disputed with the wicked\nman and overcame him and put him to silence; nor did he cease\nfrom him till he enforced him to make confession of repentance\n[and turning away] from that which he had believed.\n\nTherewith King Shah Bekht rejoiced with an exceeding great joy\nand said, 'Praise be to God who hath delivered me from yonder man\nand hath preserved me from the loss of the kingship and the\ncessation of prosperity from me!' So the affair of the vizier\nreturned to order and well-being and the king restored him to his\nplace and advanced him in rank. Moreover, he assembled the folk\nwho had missaid of him and destroyed them all, to the last man.\nAnd how like,\" continued the vizier, \"is this story unto that of\nmyself and King Shah Bekht, with regard to that whereinto I am\nfallen of the changing of the king's heart and his giving\ncredence to others against me; but now is the righteousness of my\ndealing established in thine eyes, for that God the Most High\nhath inspired me with wisdom and endowed thee with longanimity\nand patience [to hearken] from me unto that which He allotted\nunto those who had foregone us, till He hath shown forth my\ninnocence and made manifest unto thee the truth. For now the days\nare past, wherein it was avouched to the king that I should\nendeavour for the destruction of my soul,[FN#81] [to wit,] the\nmonth; and behold, the probation time is over and gone, and past\nis the season of evil and ceased, by the king's good fortune.\"\nThen he bowed his head and was silent.[FN#82]\n\nWhen King Shah Bekht heard his vizier's speech, he was confounded\nbefore him and abashed and marvelled at the gravity of his\nunderstanding and his patience. So he sprang up to him and\nembraced him and the vizier kissed his feet. Then the king called\nfor a sumptuous dress of honour and cast it over Er Rehwan and\nentreated him with the utmost honour and showed him special\nfavour and restored him to his rank and vizierate. Moreover he\nimprisoned those who had sought his destruction with leasing and\ncommitted unto himself to pass judgment upon the interpreter who\nhad expounded to him the dream. So the vizier abode in the\ngovernance of the realm till there came to them the Destroyer of\nDelights; and this (added Shehrzad) is all, O king of the age,\nthat hath come down to us of King Shah Bekht and his vizier.\n\n\n\n\n\n                    SHEHRZAD AND SHEHRIYAR.\n\n\n\nAs for King Shehriyar, he marvelled at Shehrzad with the utmost\nwonder and drew her near to his heart, of his much love for her;\nand she was magnified in his eyes and he said in himself, \"By\nAllah, the like of this woman is not deserving of slaughter, for\nindeed the time affordeth not her like. By Allah, I have been\nheedless of mine affair, and had not God overcome me with His\nmercy and put this woman at my service, so she might adduce to me\nmanifest instances and truthful cases and goodly admonitions and\nedifying traits, such as should restore me to the [right] road,\n[I had come to perdition!]. Wherefore to God be the praise for\nthis and I beseech Him to make my end with her like unto that of\nthe vizier and Shah Bekht.\" Then sleep overcame the king and\nglory be unto Him who sleepeth not!\n\nWhen it was the Nine hundred and thirtieth Night, Shehrzad said,\n\"O king, there is present in my thought a story which treateth of\nwomen's craft and wherein is a warning to whoso will be warned\nand an admonishment to whoso will be admonished and whoso hath\ndiscernment; but I fear lest the hearing of this lessen me with\nthe king and lower my rank in his esteem; yet I hope that this\nwill not be, for that it is a rare story. Women are indeed\ncorruptresses; their craft and their cunning may not be set out\nnor their wiles known. Men enjoy their company and are not\ncareful to uphold them [in the right way], neither do they watch\nover them with all vigilance, but enjoy their company and take\nthat which is agreeable and pay no heed to that which is other\nthan this. Indeed, they are like unto the crooked rib, which if\nthou go about to straighten, thou distortest it, and which if\nthou persist in seeking to redress, thou breakest it; wherefore\nit behoveth the man of understanding to be silent concerning\nthem.\"\n\n\"O sister mine,\" answered Dinarzad, \"bring forth that which is\nwith thee and that which is present to thy mind of the story\nconcerning the craft of women and their wiles, and have no fear\nlest this endamage thee with the king; for that women are like\nunto jewels, which are of all kinds and colours. When a [true]\njewel falleth into the hand of him who is knowing therein, he\nkeepeth it for himself and leaveth that which is other than it.\nMoreover, he preferreth some of them over others, and in this he\nis like unto the potter, who filleth his oven with all the\nvessels [he hath moulded] and kindleth fire thereunder. When the\nbaking is at an end and he goeth about to take forth that which\nis in the oven, he findeth no help for it but that he must break\nsome thereof, whilst other some are what the folk need and\nwhereof they make use, and yet other some there be that return to\ntheir whilom case. Wherefore fear thou not to adduce that which\nthou knowest of the craft of women, for that in this is profit\nfor all folk.\"\n\nThen said Shehrzad, \"They avouch, O king, (but God [alone]\nknowest the secret things,) that\n\n\n\n\n\n             EL MELIK EZ ZAHIR RUKNEDDIN BIBERS EL\n             BUNDUCDARI AND THE SIXTEEN OFFICERS OF\n                         POLICE.[FN#83]\n\n\n\nThere was once in the land [of Egypt and] the city of Cairo,\n[under the dynasty] of the Turks,[FN#84] a king of the valiant\nkings and the exceeding mighty Sultans, by name El Melik ez Zahir\nRukneddin Bibers el Bunducdari.[FN#85] He was used to storm the\nIslamite strongholds and the fortresses of the Coast[FN#86] and\nthe Nazarene citadels, and the governor of his [capital] city was\njust to the folk, all of them. Now El Melik ez Zahir was\npassionately fond of stories of the common folk and of that which\nmen purposed and loved to see this with his eyes and hear their\nsayings with his ears, and it befell that he heard one night from\none of his story-tellers[FN#87] that among women are those who\nare doughtier than men of valour and greater of excellence and\nthat among them are those who will do battle with the sword and\nothers who cozen the quickest-witted of magistrates and baffle\nthem and bring down on them all manner of calamity; whereupon\nquoth the Sultan, 'I would fain hear this of their craft from one\nof those who have had to do theiewith, so I may hearken unto him\nand cause him tell.' And one of the story-tellers said, 'O king,\nsend for the chief of the police of the town.'\n\nNow Ilmeddin Senjer was at that time Master of Police and he was\na man of experience, well versed in affairs: so the king sent for\nhim and when he came before him, he discovered to him that which\nwas in his mind. Quoth Ilmeddin Senjer, 'I will do my endeavour\nfor that which our lord the Sultan seeketh.' Then he arose and\nreturning to his house, summoned the captains of the watch and\nthe lieutenants of police and said to them, 'Know that I purpose\nto marry my son and make him a bride-feast, and it is my wish\nthat ye assemble, all of you, in one place. I also will be\npresent, I and my company, and do ye relate that which ye have\nheard of extraordinary occurrences and that which hath betided\nyou of experiences.' And the captains and sergeants and agents of\npolice made answer to him, saying, 'It is well: in the name of\nGod! We will cause thee see all this with thine eyes and hear it\nwith thine ears.' Then the master of police arose and going up to\nEl Melik ez Zahir, informed him that the assembly would take\nplace on such a day at his house; and the Sultan said, 'It is\nwell,' and gave him somewhat of money for his expenses.\n\nWhen the appointed day arrived, the chief of the police set apart\nfor his officers a saloon, that had windows ranged in order and\ngiving upon the garden, and El Melik ez Zahir came to him, and he\nseated himself, he and the Sultan, in the alcove. Then the tables\nwere spread unto them for eating and they ate; and when the cup\nwent round amongst them and their hearts were gladdened with meat\nand drink, they related that which was with them and discovered\ntheir secrets from concealment. The first to relate was a man, a\ncaptain of the watch, by name Muineddin, whose heart was\nengrossed with the love of women; and he said, 'Harkye, all ye\npeople of [various] degree, I will acquaint you with an\nextraordinary affair which befell me aforetime. Know that\n\n\n\n\n\n                   THE FIRST OFFICER'S STORY.\n\n\n\nWhen I entered the service of this Amir,[FN#88] I had a great\nrepute and every lewd fellow feared me of all mankind, and whenas\nI rode through the city, all the folk would point at me with\ntheir fingers and eyes. It befell one day, as I sat in the house\nof the prefecture, with my back against a wall, considering in\nmyself, there fell somewhat in my lap, and behold, it was a purse\nsealed and tied. So I took it in my hand and behold, it had in it\na hundred dirhems,[FN#89] but I found not who threw it and I\nsaid, \"Extolled be the perfection of God, the King of the\nKingdoms!\"[FN#90] Another day, [as I sat on like wise,] somewhat\nfell on me and startled me, and behold, it was a purse like the\nfirst. So I took it and concealing its affair, made as if I\nslept, albeit sleep was not with me.\n\nOne day, as I was thus feigning sleep, I felt a hand in my lap,\nand in it a magnificent purse. So I seized the hand and behold,\nit was that of a fair woman. Quoth I to her, \"O my lady, who art\nthou?\" And she said, \"Rise [and come away] from here, that I may\nmake myself known to thee.\" So I arose and following her, fared\non, without tarrying, till she stopped at the door of a lofty\nhouse, whereupon quoth I to her,\"O my lady, who art thou? Indeed,\nthou hast done me kindness, and what is the reason of this?\" \"By\nAllah,\" answered she, \"O Captain Mum, I am a woman on whom desire\nand longing are sore for the love of the daughter of the Cadi\nAmin el Hukm. Now there was between us what was and the love of\nher fell upon my heart and I agreed with her upon meeting,\naccording to possibility and convenience. But her father Amin el\nHukm took her and went away, and my heart cleaveth to her and\nlove-longing and distraction are sore upon me on her account.\"\n\nI marvelled at her words and said to her, \"What wouldst thou have\nme do?\" And she answered, \"O Captain Muin, I would have thee give\nme a helping hand.\" Quoth I, \"What have I to do with the daughter\nof the Cadi Amin el Hukm?\" And she said, \"Know that I would not\nhave thee intrude upon the Cadi's daughter, but I would fain\ncontrive for the attainment of my wishes.' This is my intent and\nmy desire, and my design will not be accomplished but by thine\naid.\" Then said she, \"I mean this night to go with a stout heart\nand hire me trinkets of price; then will I go and sit in the\nstreet wherein is the house of Amin el Hukm; and when it is the\nseason of the round and the folk are asleep, do thou pass, thou\nand those who are with thee of the police, and thou wilt see me\nsitting and on me fine raiment and ornaments and wilt smell on me\nthe odour of perfumes; whereupon do thou question me of my case\nand I will say, 'I come from the Citadel and am of the daughters\nof the deputies[FN#91] and I came down [into the town,] to do an\noccasion; but the night overtook me at unawares and the Zuweyleh\ngate was shut against me and all the gates and I knew not whither\nI should go this night Presently I saw this street and noting the\ngoodliness of its ordinance and its cleanness, took shelter\ntherein against break of day.' When I say this to thee with all\nassurance[FN#92] the chief of the watch will have no suspicion of\nme, but will say, 'Needs must we leave her with one who will take\ncare of her till morning.' And do thou rejoin, 'It were most\nfitting that she pass the night with Amin el Hukm and lie with\nhis family and children till the morning.' Then do thou\nstraightway knock at the Cadi's door, and thus shall I have\ngained admission into his house, without inconvenience, and\ngotten my desire; and peace be on thee!\" And I said to her, \"By\nAllah, this is an easy matter.\"\n\nSo, when the night darkened, we sallied forth to make our round,\nattended by men with sharp swords, and went round about the\nstreets and compassed the city, till we came to the by-street\nwhere was the woman, and it was the middle of the night Here we\nsmelt rich scents and heard the clink of earrings; so I said to\nmy comrades, \"Methinks I spy an apparition,\" And the captain of\nthe watch said, \"See what it is.\" So I came forward and entering\nthe lane, came presently out again and said, \"I have found a fair\nwoman and she tells me that she is from the Citadel and that the\nnight surprised her and she espied this street and seeing its\ncleanness and the goodliness of its ordinance, knew that it\nappertained to a man of rank and that needs must there be in it a\nguardian to keep watch over it, wherefore she took shelter\ntherein.\" Quoth the captain of the watch to me, \"Take her and\ncarry her to thy house.\" But I answered, \"I seek refuge with\nAllah![FN#93] My house is no place of deposit[FN#94] and on this\nwoman are trinkets and apparel [of price]. By Allah, we will not\ndeposit her save with Amin el Hukrn, in whose street she hath\nbeen since the first of the darkness; wherefore do thou leave her\nwith him till the break of day.\" And he said, \"As thou wilt.\"\nAccordingly, I knocked at the Cadi's door and out came a black\nslave of his slaves, to whom said I, \"O my lord, take this woman\nand let her be with you till break of day, for that the\nlieutenant of the Amir Ilmeddin hath found her standing at the\ndoor of your house, with trinkets and apparel [of price] on her,\nand we feared lest her responsibility be upon you;[FN#95]\nwherefore it is most fit that she pass the night with you.\" So\nthe slave opened and took her in with him.\n\nWhen the morning morrowed, the first who presented himself before\nthe Amir was the Cadi Amin el Hukm, leaning on two of his black\nslaves; and he was crying out and calling [on God] for aid and\nsaying, \"O crafty and perfidious Amir, thou depositedst with me a\nwoman [yesternight] and broughtest her into my house and my\ndwelling-place, and she arose [in the night] and took from me the\ngood of the little orphans,[FN#96] six great bags, [containing\neach a thousand dinars,[FN#97] and made off;] but as for me, I\nwill say no more to thee except in the Sultan's presence.\"[FN#98]\nWhen the Master of the Police heard these words, he was troubled\nand rose and sat down; then he took the Cadi and seating him by\nhis side, soothed him and exhorted him to patience, till he had\nmade an end of talk, when he turned to the officers and\nquestioned them. They fixed the affair on me and said, \"We know\nnothing of this affair but from Captain Muineddin.\" So the Cadi\nturned to me and said, \"Thou wast of accord with this woman, for\nshe said she came from the Citadel.\"\n\nAs for me, I stood, with my head bowed to the earth, forgetting\nboth Institutes and Canons,[FN#99] and abode sunk in thought,\nsaying, \"How came I to be the dupe of yonder worthless baggage?\"\nThen said the Amir to me, \"What aileth thee that thou answerest\nnot?\" And I answered, saying, \"O my lord, it is a custom among\nthe folk that he who hath a payment to make at a certain date is\nallowed three days' grace; [so do thou have patience with me so\nlong,] and if, [by the end of that time,] the culprit be not\nfound, I will be answerable for that which is lost.\" When the\nfolk heard my speech, they all deemed it reasonable and the\nMaster of Police turned to the Cadi and swore to him that he\nwould do his utmost endeavour to recover the stolen money and\nthat it should be restored to him. So he went away, whilst I\nmounted forthright and fell to going round about the world\nwithout purpose, and indeed I was become under the dominion of a\nwoman without worth or honour; and I went round about on this\nwise all that my day and night, but happened not upon tidings of\nher; and thus I did on the morrow.\n\nOn the third day I said to myself, \"Thou art mad or witless!\" For\nI was going about in quest of a woman who knew me and I knew her\nnot, seeing that indeed she was veiled, [whenas I saw her]. Then\nI went round about the third day till the hour of afternoon\nprayer, and sore was my concern and my chagrin, for I knew that\nthere abode to me of my life but [till] the morrow, when the\nchief of the police would seek me. When it was the time of\nsundown, I passed through one of the streets, and beheld a woman\nat a window. Her door was ajar and she was clapping her hands and\ncasting furtive glances at me, as who should say, \"Come up by the\ndoor.\" So I went up, without suspicion, and when I entered, she\nrose and clasped me to her breast 1 marvelled at her affair and\nshe said to me, \"I am she whom thou depositedst with Amin el\nHukm.\" Quoth I to her, \"O my sister, I have been going round and\nround in quest of thee, for indeed thou hast done a deed that\nwill be chronicled in history and hast cast me into\nslaughter[FN#100] on thine account.\" \"Sayst thou this to me,\"\nasked she, \"and thou captain of men?\" And I answered, \"How should\nI not be troubled, seeing that I am in concern [for an affair]\nthat I turn over and over [in my mind], more by token that I\nabide my day long going about [searching for thee] and in the\nnight I watch its stars [for wakefulness]?\" Quoth she, \"Nought\nshall betide but good, and thou shalt get the better of him.\"\n\nSo saying, she rose [and going] to a chest, took out therefrom\nsix bags full of gold and said to me, \"This is what I took from\nAmin el Hukm's house. So, if thou wilt, restore it; else the\nwhole is lawfully thine; and if thou desire other than this,\n[thou shalt have it;] for I have wealth in plenty and I had no\ndesign in this but to marry thee.\" Then she arose and opening\n[other] chests, brought out therefrom wealth galore and I said to\nher, \"O my sister, I have no desire for all this, nor do I covet\naught but to be quit of that wherein I am.\" Quoth she, \"I came\nnot forth of the [Cadi's] house without [making provision for]\nthine acquittance.\"\n\nThen said she to me, \"To-morrow morning, when Amin el Hukm\ncometh, have patience with him till he have made an end of his\nspeech, and when he is silent, return him no answer; and if the\nprefect say to thee, 'What ailest thee that thou answereth him\nnot?' do thou reply, 'O lord, know that the two words are not\nalike, but there is no [helper] for him who is undermost[FN#101],\nsave God the Most High.'[FN#102] The Cadi will say, 'What is the\nmeaning of thy saying,\" The two words are not alike\"?' And do\nthou make answer, saying, 'I deposited with thee a damsel from\nthe palace of the Sultan, and most like some losel of thy\nhousehold hath transgressed against her or she hath been privily\nmurdered. Indeed, there were on her jewels and raiment worth a\nthousand dinars, and hadst thou put those who are with thee of\nslaves and slave-girls to the question, thou hadst assuredly lit\non some traces [of the crime].' When he heareth this from thee,\nhis agitation will redouble and he will be confounded and will\nswear that needs must thou go with him to his house; but do thou\nsay, 'That will I not do, for that I am the party aggrieved, more\nby token that I am under suspicion with thee.' If he redouble in\ncalling [on God for aid] and conjure thee by the oath of divorce,\nsaying, 'Needs must thou come,' do thou say, 'By Allah, I will\nnot go, except the prefect come also.'\n\nWhen thou comest to the house, begin by searching the roofs; then\nsearch the closets and cabinets; and if thou find nought, humble\nthyself unto the Cadi and make a show of abjection and feign\nthyself defeated, and after stand at the door and look as if thou\nsoughtest a place wherein to make water, for that there is a dark\ncorner there. Then come forward, with a heart stouter than\ngranite, and lay hold upon a jar of the jars and raise it from\nits place. Thou wilt find under it the skirt of a veil; bring it\nout publicly and call the prefect in a loud voice, before those\nwho are present. Then open it and thou wilt find it full of\nblood, exceeding of redness,[FN#103] and in it [thou wilt find\nalso] a woman's shoes and a pair of trousers and somewhat of\nlinen.\" When I heard this from her, I rose to go out and she said\nto me, \"Take these hundred dinars, so they may advantage thee;\nand this is my guest-gift to thee.\" So I took them and bidding\nher farewell, returned to my lodging.\n\nNext morning, up came the Cadi, with his face like the\nox-eye,[FN#104] and said, \"In the name of God, where is my debtor\nand where is my money?\" Then he wept and cried out and said to\nthe prefect, \"Where is that ill-omened fellow, who aboundeth in\nthievery and villainy?\" Therewith the prefect turned to me and\nsaid, \"Why dost thou not answer the Cadi?\" And I replied, \"O\nAmir, the two heads[FN#105] are not equal, and I, I have no\nhelper but God; but, if the right be on my side, it will appear.\"\nAt this the Cadi cried out and said, \"Out on thee, O ill-omened\nfellow! How wilt thou make out that the right is on thy side?\" \"O\nour lord the Cadi,\" answered I, \"I deposited with thee a trust,\nto wit, a woman whom we found at thy door, and on her raiment and\ntrinkets of price. Now she is gone, even as yesterday is gone;\nand after this thou turnest upon us and makest claim upon me for\nsix thousand dinars. By Allah, this is none other than gross\nunright, and assuredly some losel of thy household hath\ntransgressed against her!\"\n\nWith this the Cadi's wrath redoubled and he swore by the most\nsolemn of oaths that I should go with him and search his house.\n\"By Allah,\" replied I, \"I will not go, except the prefect be with\nus; for, if he be present, he and the officers, thou wilt not\ndare to presume upon me.\" And the Cadi rose and swore an oath,\nsaying, \"By Him who created mankind, we will not go but with the\nAmir!\" So we repaired to the Cadi's house, accompanied by the\nprefect, and going up, searched high and low, but found nothing;\nwhereupon fear gat hold upon me and the prefect turned to me and\nsaid, \"Out on thee, O ill-omened fellow! Thou puttest us to shame\nbefore the men.\" And I wept and went round about right and left,\nwith the tears running down my face, till we were about to go\nforth and drew near the door of the house. I looked at the place\n[behind the door] and said, \"What is yonder dark place that I\nsee?\" And I said to the sergeants, \"Lift up this jar with me.\"\nThey did as I bade them and I saw somewhat appearing under the\njar and said, \"Rummage and see what is under it.\" So they\nsearched and found a woman's veil and trousers full of blood,\nwhich when I beheld, I fell down in a swoon.\n\nWhen the prefect saw this, he said, \"By Allah, the captain is\nexcused!\" Then my comrades came round about me and sprinkled\nwater on my face, [till I came to myself,] when I arose and\naccosting the Cadi, who was covered with confusion, said to him,\n\"Thou seest that suspicion is fallen on thee, and indeed this\naffair is no light matter, for that this woman's family will\nassuredly not sit down under her loss.\" Therewith the Cadi's\nheart quaked and he knew that the suspicion had reverted upon\nhim, wherefore his colour paled and his limbs smote together; and\nhe paid of his own money, after the measure of that which he had\nlost, so we would hush up the matter for him.[FN#106] Then we\ndeparted from him in peace, whilst I said in myself, \"Indeed, the\nwoman deceived me not.\"\n\nAfter that I tarried till three days had elapsed, when 1 went to\nthe bath and changing my clothes, betook myself to her house, but\nfound the door locked and covered with dust. So I questioned the\nneighbours of her and they said, \"This house hath been empty\nthese many days; but three days agone there came a woman with an\nass, and yesternight, at eventide, she took her gear and went\naway.\" So I turned back, confounded in my wit, and every day\n[after this, for many a day,] I inquired of the inhabitants [of\nthe street] concerning her, but could light on no tidings of her.\nAnd indeed I marvelled at the eloquence of her tongue and [the\nreadiness of] her speech; and this is the most extraordinary of\nthat which hath betided me.'\n\nWhen El Melik ez Zahir heard Muineddin's story, he marvelled\nthereat Then rose another officer and said, 'O lord, bear what\nbefell me in bygone days.\n\n\n\n\n\n                  THE SECOND OFFICER'S STORY.\n\n\n\nI was once an officer in the household of the Amir Jemaleddin El\nAtwesh El Mujhidi, who was invested with the governance of the\nEastern and Western districts,[FN#107] and I was dear to his\nheart and he concealed from me nought of that which he purposed\nto do; and withal he was master of his reason.[FN#108] It chanced\none day that it was reported to him that the daughter of such an\none had wealth galore and raiment and jewels and she loved a Jew,\nwhom every day she invited to be private with her, and they\npassed the day eating and drinking in company and he lay the\nnight with her. The prefect feigned to give no credence to this\nstory, but one night he summoned the watchmen of the quarter and\nquestioned them of this. Quoth one of them, \"O my lord, I saw a\nJew enter the street in question one night; but know not for\ncertain to whom he went in.\" And the prefect said, \"Keep thine\neye on him henceforth and note what place he entereth.\" So the\nwatchman went out and kept his eye on the Jew.\n\nOne day, as the prefect sat [in his house], the watchman came in\nto him and said, \"O my lord, the Jew goeth to the house of such\nan one.\" Whereupon El Atwesh arose and went forth alone, taking\nwith him none but myself. As he went along, he said to me,\n\"Indeed, this [woman] is a fat piece of meat.\"[FN#109] And we\ngave not over going till we came to the door of the house and\nstood there till a slave-girl came out, as if to buy them\nsomewhat. We waited till she opened the door, whereupon, without\nfurther parley, we forced our way into the house and rushed in\nupon the girl, whom we found seated with the Jew in a saloon with\nfour estrades, and cooking-pots and candles therein. When her\neyes fell on the prefect, she knew him and rising to her feet,\nsaid, \"Welcome and fair welcome! Great honour hath betided me by\nmy lord's visit and indeed thou honourest my dwelling.\"\n\nThen she carried him up [to the estrade] and seating him on the\ncouch, brought him meat and wine and gave him to drink; after\nwhich she put off all that was upon her of raiment and jewels and\ntying them up in a handkerchief, said to him, \"O my lord, this is\nthy portion, all of it.\" Moreover she turned to the Jew and said\nto him, \"Arise, thou also, and do even as I.\" So he arose in\nhaste and went out, scarce crediting his deliverance. When the\ngirl was assured of his escape, she put out her hand to her\nclothes [and jewels] and taking them, said to the prefect, \"Is\nthe requital of kindness other than kindness? Thou hast deigned\n[to visit me and eat of my victual]; so now arise and depart from\nus without ill-[doing]; or I will give one cry and all who are in\nthe street will come forth.\" So the Amir went out from her,\nwithout having gotten a single dirhem; and on this wise she\ndelivered the Jew by the excellence of her contrivance.'\n\nThe folk marvelled at this story and as for the prefect and El\nMelik ez Zahir, they said, 'Wrought ever any the like of this\ndevice?' And they marvelled with the utterest of wonderment Then\narose a third officer and said, 'Hear what betided me, for it is\nyet stranger and more extraordinary.\n\n\n\n\n\n                   THE THIRD OFFICER'S STORY\n\n\n\nI was one day abroad on an occasion with certain of my comrades,\nand as we went along, we fell in with a company of women, as they\nwere moons, and among them one, the tallest and handsomest of\nthem. When I saw her and she saw me, she tarried behind her\ncompanions and waited for me, till I came up to her and bespoke\nher. Quoth she, \"O my lord, (God favour thee!) I saw thee prolong\nthy looking on me and imagined that thou knewest me. If it be\nthus, vouchsafe me more knowledge of thee.\" \"By Allah,\" answered\nI, \"I know thee not, save that God the Most High hath cast the\nlove of thee into my heart and the goodliness of thine attributes\nhath confounded me and that wherewith God hath gifted thee of\nthose eyes that shoot with arrows; for thou hast captivated me.\"\nAnd she rejoined, \"By Allah, I feel the like of that which thou\nfeelest; so that meseemeth I have known thee from childhood.\"\n\nThen said I, \"A man cannot well accomplish all whereof he hath\nneed in the market-places.\" \"Hast thou a house?\" asked she. \"No,\nby Allah,\" answered I; \"nor is this town my dwelling-place.\" \"By\nAllah,\" rejoined she, \"nor have I a place; but I will contrive\nfor thee.\" Then she went on before me and I followed her till she\ncame to a lodging-house and said to the housekeeper, \"Hast thou\nan empty chamber?\" \"Yes,\" answered she; and my mistress said,\n\"Give us the key.\" So we took the key and going up to see the\nroom, entered it; after which she went out to the housekeeper and\n[giving her a dirhem], said to her, \"Take the key-money,[FN#110]\nfor the room pleaseth us, and here is another dirhem for thy\ntrouble. Go, fetch us a pitcher of water, so we may [refresh\nourselves] and rest till the time of the noonday siesta pass and\nthe heat decline, when the man will go and fetch the [household]\nstuff.\" Therewith the housekeeper rejoiced and brought us a mat\nand two pitchers of water on a tray and a leather rug.\n\nWe abode thus till the setting-in of the time of mid-afternoon,\nwhen she said, \"Needs must I wash before I go.\" Quoth I, \"Get\nwater wherewithal we may wash,\" and pulled out from my pocket\nabout a score of dirhems, thinking to give them to her; but she\nsaid, \"I seek refuge with God!\" and brought out of her pocket a\nhandful of silver, saying, \"But for destiny and that God hath\ncaused the love of thee fall into my heart, there had not\nhappened that which hath happened.\" Quoth I, \"Take this in\nrequital of that which thou hast spent;\" and she said, \"O my\nlord, by and by, whenas companionship is prolonged between us,\nthou wilt see if the like of me looketh unto money and gain or\nno.\" Then she took a pitcher of water and going into the\nlavatory, washed[FN#111] and presently coming forth, prayed and\ncraved pardon of God the Most High for that which she had done.\n\nNow I had questioned her of her name and she answered, \"My name\nis Rihaneh,\" and described to me her dwelling-place. When I saw\nher make the ablution, I said in myself, \"This woman doth on this\nwise, and shall I not do the like of her?\" Then said I to her,\n\"Belike thou wilt seek us another pitcher of water?\" So she went\nout to the housekeeper and said to her, \"Take this para and fetch\nus water therewith, so we may wash the flags withal.\"\nAccordingly, the housekeeper brought two pitchers of water and I\ntook one of them and giving her my clothes, entered the lavatory\nand washed.\n\nWhen I had made an end of washing, I cried out, saying, \"Harkye,\nmy lady Rihaneh!\" But none answered me. So I went out and found\nher not; and indeed she had taken my clothes and that which was\ntherein of money, to wit, four hundred dirhems. Moreover, she had\ntaken my turban and my handkerchief and I found not wherewithal\nto cover my nakedness; wherefore I suffered somewhat than which\ndeath is less grievous and abode looking about the place, so\nhaply I might espy wherewithal to hide my shame. Then I sat a\nlittle and presently going up to the door, smote upon it;\nwhereupon up came the housekeeper and I said to her, \"O my\nsister, what hath God done with the woman who was here?\" Quoth\nshe, \"She came down but now and said, 'I am going to cover the\nboys with the clothes and I have left him sleeping. If he awake,\ntell him not to stir till the clothes come to him.'\" Then said I,\n\"O my sister, secrets are [safe] with the worthy and the\nfreeborn. By Allah, this woman is not my wife, nor ever in my\nlife have I seen her before this day!\" And I recounted to her the\nwhole affair and begged her to cover me, informing her that I was\ndiscovered of the privities.\n\nShe laughed and cried out to the women of the house, saying, \"Ho,\nFatimeh! Ho, Khedijeh! Ho, Herifeh! Ho, Senineh!\" Whereupon all\nthose who were in the place of women and neighbours flocked to me\nand fell a-laughing at me and saying, \"O blockhead, what ailed\nthee to meddle with gallantry?\" Then one of them came and looked\nin my face and laughed, and another said, \"By Allah, thou\nmightest have known that she lied, from the time she said she\nloved thee and was enamoured of thee? What is there in thee to\nlove?\" And a third said, \"This is an old man without\nunderstanding.\" And they vied with each other in making mock of\nme, what while I suffered sore chagrin.\n\nHowever, after awhile, one of the women took pity on me and\nbrought me a rag of thin stuff and cast it on me. With this I\ncovered my privities, and no more, and abode awhile thus. Then\nsaid I in myself, \"The husbands of these women will presently\ngather together on me and I shall be disgraced.\" So I went out by\nanother door of the house, and young and old crowded about me,\nrunning after me and saying, \"A madman! A madman!\" till I came to\nmy house and knocked at the door; whereupon out came my wife and\nseeing me naked, tall, bareheaded, cried out and ran in again,\nsaying,\"This is a madman, a Satan!\" But, when she and my family\nknew me, they rejoiced and said to me, \"What aileth thee?\" I told\nthem that thieves had taken my clothes and stripped me and had\nbeen like to kill me; and when I told them that they would have\nkilled me, they praised God the Most High and gave me joy of my\nsafety. So consider the craft of this woman and this device that\nshe practised upon me, for all my pretensions to sleight and\nquickwittedness.'\n\nThe company marvelled at this story and at the doings of women.\nThen came forward a fourth officer and said, 'Verily, that which\nhath betided me of strange adventures is yet more extraordinary\nthan this; and it was on this wise.\n\n\n\n\n\n                  THE FOURTH OFFICER'S STORY.\n\n\n\nWe were sleeping one night on the roof, when a woman made her way\ninto the house and gathering into a bundle all that was therein,\ntook it up, that she might go away with it. Now she was great\nwith child and near upon her term and the hour of her\ndeliverance; so, when she made up the bundle and offered to\nshoulder it and make off with it, she hastened the coming of the\npangs of labour and gave birth to a child in the dark. Then she\nsought for the flint and steel and striking a light, kindled the\nlamp and went round about the house with the little one, and it\nwas weeping. [The noise awoke us,] as we lay on the roof, and we\nmarvelled. So we arose, to see what was to do, and looking down\nthrough the opening of the saloon,[FN#112] saw a woman, who had\nkindled the lamp, and heard the little one weeping. She heard our\nvoices and raising her eyes to us, said, \"Are ye not ashamed to\ndeal with us thus and discover our nakedness? Know ye not that\nthe day belongeth to you and the night to us? Begone from us! By\nAllah, were it not that ye have been my neighbours these [many]\nyears, I would bring down the house upon you!\" We doubted not but\nthat she was of the Jinn and drew back our heads; but, when we\narose on the morrow, we found that she had taken all that was\nwith us and made off with it; wherefore we knew that she was a\nthief and had practised [on us] a device, such as was never\nbefore practised; and we repented, whenas repentance advantaged\nus not.'\n\nWhen the company heard this story, they marvelled thereat with\nthe utmost wonderment. Then the fifth officer, who was the\nlieutenant of the bench,[FN#113] came forward and said, '[This\nis] no wonder and there befell me that which is rarer and more\nextraordinary than this.\n\n\n\n\n\n                   THE FIFTH OFFICER'S STORY.\n\n\n\nAs I sat one day at the door of the prefecture, a woman entered\nand said to me privily, \"O my lord, I am the wife of such an one\nthe physician, and with him is a company of the notables[FN#114]\nof the city, drinking wine in such a place.\" When I heard this, I\nmisliked to make a scandal; so I rebuffed her and sent her away.\nThen I arose and went alone to the place in question and sat\nwithout till the door opened, when I rushed in and entering,\nfound the company engaged as the woman had set out, and she\nherself with them. I saluted them and they returned my greeting\nand rising, entreated me with honour and seated me and brought me\nto eat. Then I informed them how one had denounced them to me,\nbut I had driven him[FN#115] away and come to them by myself;\nwherefore they thanked me and praised me for my goodness. Then\nthey brought out to me from among them two thousand\ndirhems[FN#116] and I took them and went away.\n\nTwo months after this occurrence, there came to me one of the\nCadi's officers, with a scroll, wherein was the magistrate's\nwrit, summoning me to him. So I accompanied the officer and went\nin to the Cadi, whereupon the plaintiff, to wit, he who had taken\nout the summons, sued me for two thousand dirhems, avouching that\nI had borrowed them of him as the woman's agent.[FN#117] I denied\nthe debt, but he produced against me a bond for the amount,\nattested by four of those who were in company [on the occasion];\nand they were present and bore witness to the loan. So I reminded\nthem of my kindness and paid the amount, swearing that I would\nnever again follow a woman's counsel. Is not this marvellous?'\n\nThe company marvelled at the goodliness of his story and it\npleased El Melik ez Zahir; and the prefect said, 'By Allah, this\nstory is extraordinary!' Then came forward the sixth officer and\nsaid to the company, 'Hear my story and that which befell me, to\nwit, that which befell such an one the assessor, for it is rarer\nthan this and stranger.\n\n\n\n\n\n                   THE SIXTH OFFICER'S STORY.\n\n\n\nA certain assessor was one day taken with a woman and much people\nassembled before his house and the lieutenant of police and his\nmen came to him and knocked at the door. The assessor looked out\nof window and seeing the folk, said, \"What aileth you?\" Quoth\nthey, \"[Come,] speak with the lieutenant of police such an one.\"\nSo he came down and they said to him, \"Bring forth the woman that\nis with thee.\" Quoth he, \"Are ye not ashamed? How shall I bring\nforth my wife?\" And they said, \"Is she thy wife by\ncontract[FN#118] or without contract?\" [\"By contract,\"] answered\nhe, \"according to the Book of God and the Institutes of His\nApostle.\" \"Where is the contract?\" asked they; and he replied,\n\"Her contract is in her mother's house.\" Quoth they, \"Arise and\ncome down and show us the contract.\" And he said to them, \"Go\nfrom her way, so she may come forth.\" Now, as soon as he got wind\nof the matter, he had written the contract and fashioned it after\nher fashion, to suit with the case, and written therein the names\nof certain of his friends as witnesses and forged the signatures\nof the drawer and the wife's next friend and made it a contract\nof marriage with his wife and appointed it for an excuse.[FN#119]\nSo, when the woman was about to go out from him, he gave her the\ncontract that be had forged, and the Amir sent with her a servant\nof his, to bring her to her father. So the servant went with her\nand when she came to her door, she said to him, \"I will not\nreturn to the citation of the Amir; but let the witnesses[FN#120]\npresent themselves and take my contract.\"\n\nAccordingly, the servant carried this message to the lieutenant\nof police, who was standing at the assessor's door, and he said,\n\"This is reasonable.\" Then said [the assessor] to the servant,\n\"Harkye, O eunuch! Go and fetch us such an one the notary;\" for\nthat he was his friend [and it was he whose name he had forged as\nthe drawer-up of the contract]. So the lieutenant of police sent\nafter him and fetched him to the assessor, who, when he saw him,\nsaid to him, \"Get thee to such an one, her with whom thou\nmarriedst me, and cry out upon her, and when she cometh to thee,\ndemand of her the contract and take it from her and bring it to\nus.\" And he signed to him, as who should say, \"Bear me out in the\nlie and screen me, for that she is a strange woman and I am in\nfear of the lieutenant of police who standeth at the door; and we\nbeseech God the Most High to screen us and you from the trouble\nof this world. Amen.\"\n\nSo the notary went up to the lieutenant, who was among the\nwitnesses, and said \"It is well. Is she not such an one whose\nmarriage contract we drew up in such a place?\" Then he betook\nhimself to the woman's house and cried out upon her; whereupon\nshe brought him the [forged] contract and he took it and returned\nwith it to the lieutenant of police. When the latter had taken\ncognizance [of the document and professed himself satisfied, the\nassessor] said [to the notary,] \"Go to our lord and master, the\nCadi of the Cadis, and acquaint him with that which befalleth his\nassessors.\" The notary rose to go, but the lieutenant of police\nfeared [for himself] and was profuse in beseeching the assessor\nand kissing his hands, till he forgave him; whereupon the\nlieutenant went away in the utterest of concern and affright. On\nthis wise the assessor ordered the case and carried out the\nforgery and feigned marriage with the woman; [and thus was\ncalamity warded off from him] by the excellence of his\ncontrivance.\"[FN#121]\n\nThe folk marvelled at this story with the utmost wonderment and\nthe seventh officer said, 'There befell me in Alexandria the\n[God-]guarded a marvellous thing, [and it was that one told me\nthe following story].\n\n\n\n\n\n                  THE SEVENTH OFFICER'S STORY.\n\n\n\nThere came one day an old woman [to the stuff-market], with a\ncasket of precious workmanship, containing trinkets, and she was\naccompanied by a damsel great with child. The old woman sat down\nat the shop of a draper and giving him to know that the damsel\nwas with child by the prefect of police of the city, took of him,\non credit, stuffs to the value of a thousand dinars and deposited\nwith him the casket as security. [She opened the casket and]\nshowed him that which was therein; and he found it full of\ntrinkets [apparently] of price; [so he trusted her with the\ngoods] and she took leave of him and carrying the stuffs to the\ndamsel, who was with her, [went her way]. Then the old woman was\nabsent from him a great while, and when her absence was\nprolonged, the draper despaired of her; so he went up to the\nprefect's house and enquired of the woman of his household, [who\nhad taken his stuffs on credit;] but could get no tidings of her\nnor lit on aught of her trace.\n\nThen he brought out the casket of jewellery [and showed it to an\nexpert,] who told him that the trinkets were gilt and that their\nworth was but an hundred dirhems. When he heard this, he was sore\nconcerned thereat and presenting himself before the Sultan's\ndeputy, made his complaint to him; whereupon the latter knew that\na trick had been put off upon him and that the folk had cozened\nhim and gotten the better of him and taken his stuffs. Now the\nmagistrate in question was a man of good counsel and judgment,\nwell versed in affairs; so he said to the draper, \"Remove\nsomewhat from thy shop, [and amongst the rest the casket,] and on\nthe morrow break the lock and cry out and come to me and complain\nthat they have plundered all thy shop. Moreover, do thou call\n[upon God for succour] and cry aloud and acquaint the folk, so\nthat all the people may resort to thee and see the breach of the\nlock and that which is missing from thy shop; and do thou show it\nto every one who presenteth himself, so the news may be noised\nabroad, and tell them that thy chief concern is for a casket of\ngreat value, deposited with thee by a great man of the town and\nthat thou standest in fear of him. But be thou not afraid and\nstill say in thy converse, 'My casket belonged to such an one,\nand I fear him and dare not bespeak him; but you, O company and\nall ye who are present, I call you to witness of this for me.'\nAnd if there be with thee more than this talk, [say it;] and the\nold woman will come to thee.\"\n\nThe draper answered with \"Hearkening and obedience\" and going\nforth from the deputy's presence, betook himself to his shop and\nbrought out thence [the casket and] somewhat considerable, which\nhe removed to his house. At break of day he arose and going to\nhis shop, broke the lock and cried out and shrieked and called\n[on God for help,] till the folk assembled about him and all who\nwere in the city were present, whereupon he cried out to them,\nsaying even as the prefect had bidden him; and this was bruited\nabroad. Then he made for the prefecture and presenting himself\nbefore the chief of the police, cried out and complained and made\na show of distraction.\n\nAfter three days, the old woman came to him and bringing him the\n[thousand dinars, the] price of the stuffs, demanded the\ncasket.[FN#122] When he saw her, he laid hold of her and carried\nher to the prefect of the city; and when she came before the\nCadi, he said to her, \"O Sataness, did not thy first deed suffice\nthee, but thou must come a second time?\" Quoth she, \"I am of\nthose who seek their salvation[FN#123] in the cities, and we\nforegather every month; and yesterday we foregathered.\" \"Canst\nthou [bring me to] lay hold of them?\" asked the prefect; and she\nanswered, \"Yes; but, if thou wait till to-morrow, they will have\ndispersed. So I will deliver them to thee to-night.\" Quoth he to\nher, \"Go;\" and she said, \"Send with me one who shall go with me\nto them and obey me in that which I shall say to him, and all\nthat I bid him he shall give ear unto and obey me therein.\" So he\ngave her a company of men and she took them and bringing them to\na certain door, said to them, \"Stand at this door, and whoso\ncometh out to you, lay hands on him; and I will come out to you\nlast of all.\" \"Hearkening and obedience,\" answered they and stood\nat the door, whilst the old woman went in. They waited a long\nwhile, even as the Sultan's deputy had bidden them, but none came\nout to them and their standing was prolonged. When they were\nweary of waiting, they went up to the door and smote upon it\nheavily and violently, so that they came nigh to break the lock.\nThen one of them entered and was absent a long while, but found\nnought; so he returned to his comrades and said to them,\"This is\nthe door of a passage, leading to such a street; and indeed she\nlaughed at you and left you and went away.\"When they heard his\nwords, they returned to the Amir and acquainted him with the\ncase, whereby he knew that the old woman was a crafty trickstress\nand that she had laughed at them and cozened them and put a cheat\non them, to save herself. Consider, then, the cunning of this\nwoman and that which she contrived of wiles, for all her lack of\nforesight in presenting herself [a second time] to the draper and\nnot apprehending that his conduct was but a trick; yet, when she\nfound herself in danger, she straightway devised a shift for her\ndeliverance.'\n\nWhen the company heard the seventh officer's story, they were\nmoved to exceeding mirth, and El Melik ez Zahir Bibers rejoiced\nin that which he heard and said, 'By Allah, there betide things\nin this world, from which kings are shut out, by reason of their\nexalted station!\" Then came forward another man from amongst the\ncompany and said, 'There hath reached me from one of my friends\nanother story bearing on the malice of women and their craft, and\nit is rarer and more extraordinary and more diverting than all\nthat hath been told to you.\"\n\nQuoth the company, 'Tell us thy story and expound it unto us, so\nwe may see that which it hath of extraordinary.' And he said\n'Know, then, that\n\n\n\n\n\n                  THE EIGHTH OFFICER'S STORY.\n\n\n\nA friend of mine once invited me to an entertainment; so I went\nwith him, and when we came into his house and sat down on his\ncouch, he said to me, \"This is a blessed day and a day of\ngladness, and [blessed is] he who liveth to [see] the like of\nthis day. I desire that thou practise with us and deny[FN#124] us\nnot, for that thou hast been used to hearken unto those who\noccupy themselves with this.\"[FN#125] I fell in with this and\ntheir talk happened upon the like of this subject.[FN#126]\nPresently, my friend, who had invited me, arose from among them\nand said to them, \"Hearken to me and I will tell you of an\nadventure that happened to me. There was a certain man who used\nto visit me in my shop, and I knew him not nor he me, nor ever in\nhis life had he seen me; but he was wont, whenever he had need of\na dirhem or two, by way of loan, to come to me and ask me,\nwithout acquaintance or intermediary between me and him, [and I\nwould give him what he sought]. I told none of him, and matters\nabode thus between us a long while, till he fell to borrowing ten\nat twenty dirhems [at a time], more or less.\n\nOne day, as I stood in my shop, there came up to me a woman and\nstopped before me; and she as she were the full moon rising from\namong the stars, and the place was illumined by her light. When I\nsaw her, I fixed my eyes on her and stared in her face; and she\nbespoke me with soft speech. When I heard her words and the\nsweetness of her speech, I lusted after her; and when she saw\nthat I lusted after her, she did her occasion and promising me\n[to come again], went away, leaving my mind occupied with her and\nfire kindled in my heart. Then I abode, perplexed and pondering\nmy affair, whilst fire flamed in my heart, till the third day,\nwhen she came again and I scarce credited her coming. When I saw\nher, I talked with her and cajoled her and courted her and strove\nto win her favour with speech and invited her [to my house]; but\nshe answered, saying, 'I will not go up into any one's house.'\nQuoth I, 'I will go with thee;' and she said, 'Arise and come\nwith me.'\n\nSo I arose and putting in my sleeve a handkerchief, wherein was a\ngood sum of money, followed the woman, who went on before me and\ngave not over walking till she brought me to a by-street and to a\ndoor, which she bade me open. I refused and she opened it and\nbrought me into the vestibule. As soon as I had entered, she\nlocked the door of entrance from within and said to me, 'Sit\n[here] till I go in to the slave-girls and cause them enter a\nplace where they shall not see me.' 'It is well,' answered I and\nsat down; whereupon she entered and was absent from me a moment,\nafter which she returned to me, without a veil, and said, 'Arise,\n[enter,] in the name of God.'[FN#127] So I arose and went in\nafter her and we gave not over going till we entered a saloon.\nWhen I examined the place, I found it neither handsome nor\nagreeable, but unseemly and desolate, without symmetry or\ncleanliness; nay, it was loathly to look upon and there was a\nfoul smell in it.\n\nI seated myself amiddleward the saloon, misdoubting, and as I\nsat, there came down on me from the estrade seven naked men,\nwithout other clothing than leather girdles about their waists.\nOne of them came up to me and took my turban, whilst another took\nmy handkerchief, that was in my sleeve, with my money, and a\nthird stripped me of my clothes; after which a fourth came and\nbound my hands behind me with his girdle. Then they all took me\nup, pinioned as I was, and casting me down, fell a-dragging me\ntowards a sink-hole that was there and were about to cut my\nthroat, when, behold, there came a violent knocking at the door.\nWhen they heard this, they were afraid and their minds were\ndiverted from me by fear; so the woman went out and presently\nreturning, said to them, 'Fear not; no harm shall betide you this\nday. It is only your comrade who hath brought you your\nnoon-meal.' With this the new-comer entered, bringing with him a\nroasted lamb; and when he came in to them, he said to them, 'What\nis to do with you, that ye have tucked up [your sleeves and\ntrousers]?' Quoth they, '[This is] a piece of game we have\ncaught.'\n\nWhen he heard this, he came up to me and looking in my face,\ncried out and said, 'By Allah, this is my brother, the son of my\nmother and father! Allah! Allah!' Then he loosed me from my bonds\nand kissed my head, and behold it was my friend who used to\nborrow money of me. When I kissed his head, he kissed mine and\nsaid, 'O my brother, be not affrighted.' Then he called for my\nclothes [and money and restored to me all that had been taken\nfrom me] nor was aught missing to me. Moreover, he brought me a\nbowl full of [sherbet of] sugar, with lemons therein, and gave me\nto drink thereof; and the company came and seated me at a table.\nSo I ate with them and he said to me, 'O my lord and my brother,\nnow have bread and salt passed between us and thou hast\ndiscovered our secret and [become acquainted with] our case; but\nsecrets [are safe] with the noble.' Quoth I, 'As I am a\nlawfully-begotten child, I will not name aught [of this] neither\ndenounce [you!*]' And they assured themselves of me by an oath.\nThen they brought me out and I went my way, scarce crediting but\nthat I was of the dead.\n\nI abode in my house, ill, a whole month; after which I went to\nthe bath and coming out, opened my shop [and sat selling and\nbuying as usual], but saw no more of the man or the woman, till,\none day, there stopped before my shop a young man, [a Turcoman],\nas he were the full moon; and he was a sheep-merchant and had\nwith him a bag, wherein was money, the price of sheep that he had\nsold. He was followed by the woman, and when he stopped at my\nshop, she stood by his side and cajoled him, and indeed he\ninclined to her with a great inclination. As for me, I was\nconsumed with solicitude for him and fell to casting furtive\nglances at him and winked at him, till he chanced to look round\nand saw me winking at him; whereupon the woman looked at me and\nmade a sign with her hand and went away. The Turcoman followed\nher and I counted him dead, without recourse; wherefore I feared\nwith an exceeding fear and shut my shop. Then I journeyed for a\nyear's space and returning, opened my shop; whereupon, behold,\nthe woman came up to me and said, 'This is none other than a\ngreat absence.' Quoth I, 'I have been on a journey;' and she\nsaid, 'Why didst thou wink at the Turcoman?' 'God forbid!'\nanswered I. 'I did not wink at him.' Quoth she, 'Beware lest thou\ncross me;' and went away.\n\n\nAwhile after this a friend of mine invited me to his house and\nwhen I came to him, we ate and drank and talked. Then said he to\nme, 'O my friend, hath there befallen thee in thy life aught of\ncalamity?' 'Nay,' answered I; 'but tell me [first], hath there\nbefallen thee aught?' ['Yes,'] answered he. 'Know that one day I\nespied a fair woman; so I followed her and invited her [to come\nhome with me]. Quoth she, \"I will not enter any one's house; but\ncome thou to my house, if thou wilt, and be it on such a day.\"\nAccordingly, on the appointed day, her messenger came to me,\npurposing to carry me to her; so I arose and went with him, till\nwe came to a handsome house and a great door. He opened the door\nand I entered, whereupon he locked the door [behind me] and would\nhave gone in, but I feared with an exceeding fear and foregoing\nhim to the second door, whereby he would have had me enter,\nlocked it and cried out at him, saying, \"By Allah, an thou open\nnot to me, I will kill thee; for I am none of those whom thou\ncanst cozen!\" Quoth he, \"What deemest thou of cozenage?\" And I\nsaid, \"Verily, I am affrighted at the loneliness of the house and\nthe lack of any at the door thereof; for I see none appear.\" \"O\nmy lord,\" answered he, \"this is a privy door.\" \"Privy or public,\"\nanswered I, \"open to me.\"\n\nSo he opened to me and I went out and had not gone far from the\nhouse when I met a woman, who said to me, \"Methinks a long life\nwas fore-ordained to thee; else hadst thou not come forth of\nyonder house.\" \"How so?\" asked I, and she answered, \"Ask thy\nfriend [such an one,\" naming thee,] \"and he will acquaint thee\nwith strange things.\" So, God on thee, O my friend, tell me what\nbefell thee of wonders and rarities, for I have told thee what\nbefell me.' 'O my brother,' answered I, 'I am bound by a solemn\noath.' And he said, 'O my friend, break thine oath and tell me.'\nQuoth I, 'Indeed, I fear the issue of this.' [But he importuned\nme] till I told him all, whereat he marvelled. Then I went away\nfrom him and abode a long while, [without farther news].\n\nOne day, another of my friends came to me and said 'A neighbour\nof mine hath invited me to hear [music]. [And he would have me go\nwith him;] but I said, 'I will not foregather with any one.'\nHowever, he prevailed upon me [to accompany him]; so we repaired\nto the place and found there a man, who came to meet us and said,\n'[Enter,] in the name of God!' Then he pulled out a key and\nopened the door, whereupon we entered and he locked the door\nafter us. Quoth I, 'We are the first of the folk; but where are\ntheir voices?'[FN#128] '[They are] within the house,' answered\nhe. 'This is but a privy door; so be not amazed at the absence of\nthe folk.' And my friend said to me, 'Behold, we are two, and\nwhat can they avail to do with us?' [Then he brought us into the\nhouse,] and when we entered the saloon, we found it exceeding\ndesolate and repulsive of aspect Quoth my friend, 'We are fallen\n[into a trap]; but there is no power and no virtue save in God\nthe Most High, the Supreme!' And I said, 'May God not requite\nthee for me with good!'\n\nThen we sat down on the edge of the estrade and presently I\nespied a closet beside me; so I looked into it and my friend said\nto me, 'What seest thou?' Quoth I, 'I see therein good galore and\nbodies of murdered folk. Look.' So he looked and said, 'By Allah,\nwe are lost men!' And we fell a-weeping, I and he. As we were\nthus, behold, there came in upon us, by the door at which we had\nentered, four naked men, with girdles of leather about their\nmiddles, and made for my friend. He ran at them and dealing one\nof them a buffet, overthrew him, whereupon the other three fell\nall upon him. I seized the opportunity to escape, what while they\nwere occupied with him, and espying a door by my side, slipped\ninto it and found myself in an underground chamber, without\nwindow or other issue. So I gave myself up for lost and said,\n'There is no power and no virtue save in God the Most High, the\nSupreme!' Then I looked to the top of the vault and saw in it a\nrange of glazed lunettes; so I clambered up for dear life, till I\nreached the lunettes, and I distracted [for fear]. I made shift\nto break the glass and scrambling out through the frames, found a\nwall behind them. So I bestrode the wall and saw folk walking in\nthe road; whereupon I cast myself down to the ground and God the\nMost High preserved me, so that I reached the earth, unhurt. The\nfolk flocked round me and I acquainted them with my story.\n\nAs fate would have it, the chief of the police was passing\nthrough the market; so the people told him [what was to do] and\nhe made for the door and burst it open. We entered with a rush\nand found the thieves, as they had overthrown my friend and cut\nhis throat; for they occupied not themselves with me, but said,\n'Whither shall yonder fellow go? Indeed, he is in our grasp.' So\nthe prefect took them with the hand[FN#129] and questioned them,\nand they confessed against the woman and against their associates\nin Cairo. Then he took them and went forth, after he had locked\nup the house and sealed it; and I accompanied him till he came\nwithout the [first] house. He found the door locked from within;\nso he bade break it open and we entered and found another door.\nThis also he caused burst in, enjoining his men to silence till\nthe doors should be opened, and we entered and found the band\noccupied with a new victim, whom the woman had just brought in\nand whose throat they were about to cut.\n\nThe prefect released the man and gave him back all that the\nthieves had taken from him; and he laid hands on the woman and\nthe rest and took forth of the house treasures galore. Amongst\nthe rest, they found the money-bag of the Turcoman\nsheep-merchant. The thieves they nailed up incontinent against\nthe wall of the house, whilst, as for the woman, they wrapped her\nin one of her veils and nailing her [to a board, set her] upon a\ncamel and went round about the town with her. Thus God razed\ntheir dwelling-places and did away from me that which I feared.\nAll this befell, whilst I looked on, and I saw not my friend who\nhad saved me from them the first time, whereat I marvelled to the\nutterest of marvel. However, some days afterward, he came up to\nme, and indeed he had renounced[FN#130] [the world] and donned a\nfakir's habit; and he saluted me and went away.\n\nThen he again began to pay me frequent visits and I entered into\nconverse with him and questioned him of the band and how he came\nto escape, he alone of them all. Quoth he, 'I left them from the\nday on which God the Most High delivered thee from them, for that\nthey would not obey my speech; wherefore I swore that I would no\nlonger consort with them.' And I said, 'By Allah, I marvel at\nthee, for that thou wast the cause of my preservation!' Quoth he,\n'The world is full of this sort [of folk]; and we beseech God the\nMost High for safety, for that these [wretches] practise upon men\nwith every kind of device.' Then said I to him, 'Tell me the most\nextraordinary adventure of all that befell thee in this villainy\nthou wast wont to practise.' And he answered, saying, 'O my\nbrother, I was not present when they did on this wise, for that\nmy part with them was to concern myself with selling and buying\nand [providing them with] food; but I have heard that the most\nextraordinary thing that befell them was on this wise.\n\n\n\n\n\n                       THE THIEF'S STORY.\n\n\n\nThe woman who used to act as decoy for them once caught them a\nwoman from a bride-feast, under pretence that she had a wedding\ntoward in her own house, and appointed her for a day, whereon she\nshould come to her. When the appointed day arrived, the woman\npresented herself and the other carried her into the house by a\ndoor, avouching that it was a privy door. When she entered [the\nsaloon], she saw men and champions[FN#131] [and knew that she had\nfallen into a trap]; so she looked at them and said, \"Harkye,\nlads![FN#132] I am a woman and there is no glory in my slaughter,\nnor have ye any feud of blood-revenge against me, wherefore ye\nshould pursue me; and that which is upon me of [trinkets and\napparel] ye are free to take.\" Quoth they, \"We fear thy\ndenunciation.\" But she answered, saying, \"I will abide with you,\nneither coming in nor going out.\" And they said, \"We grant thee\nthy life.\"\n\nThen the captain looked on her [and she pleased him]; so he took\nher for himself and she abode with him a whole year, doing her\nendeavour in their service. till they became accustomed to her\n[and felt assured of her]. One night she plied them with drink\nand they drank [till they became intoxicated]; whereupon she\narose and took her clothes and five hundred dinars from the\ncaptain; after which she fetched a razor and shaved all their\nchins. Then she took soot from the cooking-pots and blackening\ntheir faces withal, opened the doors and went out; and when the\nthieves awoke, they abode confounded and knew that the woman had\npractised upon them.'\"'\n\nThe company marvelled at this story and the ninth officer came\nforward and said, 'I will tell you a right goodly story I heard\nat a wedding.\n\n\n\n\n\n                   THE NINTH OFFICER'S STORY.\n\n\n\nA certain singing-woman was fair of favour and high in repute,\nand it befell one day that she went out apleasuring. As she\nsat,[FN#133] behold, a man lopped of the hand stopped to beg of\nher, and he entered in at the door. Then he touched her with his\nstump, saying, \"Charity, for the love of God!\" but she answered,\n\"God open [on thee the gate of subsistence]!\" and reviled him.\nSome days after this, there came to her a messenger and gave her\nthe hire of her going forth.[FN#134] So she took with her a\nhandmaid and an accompanyist;[FN#135] and when she came to the\nappointed place, the messenger brought her into a long passage,\nat the end whereof was a saloon. So (quoth she) we entered and\nfound none therein, but saw the [place made ready for an]\nentertainment with candles and wine and dessert, and in another\nplace we saw food and in a third beds.\n\nWe sat down and I looked at him who had opened the door to us,\nand behold he was lopped of the hand. I misliked this of him, and\nwhen I had sat a little longer, there entered a man, who filled\nthe lamps in the saloon and lit the candles; and behold, he also\nwas handlopped. Then came the folk and there entered none except\nhe were lopped of the hand, and indeed the house was full of\nthese. When the assembly was complete, the host entered and the\ncompany rose to him and seated him in the place of honour. Now he\nwas none other than the man who had fetched me, and he was clad\nin sumptuous apparel, but his hands were in his sleeves, so that\nI knew not how it was with them. They brought him food and he\nate, he and the company; after which they washed their hands and\nthe host fell to casting furtive glances at me.\n\nThen they drank till they were drunken, and when they had taken\nleave [of their wits], the host turned to me and said, \"Thou\ndealtest not friendly with him who sought an alms of thee and\nthou saidst to him, 'How loathly thou art!'\" I considered him and\nbehold, he was the lophand who had accosted me in my pleasaunce.\nSo I said, \"O my lord, what is this thou sayest?\" And he\nanswered, saying, \"Wait; thou shall remember it.\" So saying, he\nshook his head and stroked his beard, whilst I sat down for fear.\nThen he put out his hand to my veil and shoes and laying them by\nhis side, said to me, \"Sing, O accursed one!\" So I sang till I\nwas weary, whilst they occupied themselves with their case and\nintoxicated themselves and their heat redoubled.[FN#136]\nPresently, the doorkeeper came to me and said, \"Fear not, O my\nlady; but, when thou hast a mind to go, let me know.\" Quoth I,\n\"Thinkest thou to delude me?\" And he said, \"Nay, by Allah! But I\nhave compassion on thee for that our captain and our chief\npurposeth thee no good and methinketh he will slay thee this\nnight.\" Quoth I to him, \"An thou be minded to do good, now is the\ntime.\" And he answered, saying, \"When our chief riseth to do his\noccasion and goeth to the draught-house, I will enter before him\nwith the light and leave the door open; and do thou go\nwhithersoever thou wilt.\"\n\nThen I sang and the captain said, \"It is good,\" Quoth I, \"Nay,\nbut thou art loathly.\" He looked at me and said, \"By Allah, thou\nshalt never more scent the odour of the world!\" But his comrades\nsaid to him, \"Do it not,\" and appeased him, till he said, \"If it\nmust be so, she shall abide here a whole year, not going forth.\"\nAnd I said, \"I am content to submit to whatsoever pleaseth thee.\nIf I have erred, thou art of those to whom pertaineth clemency.\"\nHe shook his head and drank, then arose and went out to do his\noccasion, what while his comrades were occupied with what they\nwere about of merry-making and drunkenness and sport. So I winked\nto my fellows and we slipped out into the corridor. We found the\ndoor open and fled forth, unveiled and knowing not whither we\nwent; nor did we halt till we had left the house far behind and\nhappened on a cook cooking, to whom said I, \"Hast thou a mind to\nquicken dead folk?\" And he said, \"Come up.\" So we went up into\nthe shop, and he said, 'Lie down.\" Accordingly, we lay down and\nhe covered us with the grass,[FN#137] wherewith he was used to\nkindle [the fire] under the food.\n\nHardly had we settled ourselves in the place when we heard a\nnoise of kicking [at the door] and people running right and left\nand questioning the cook and saying, \"Hath any one passed by\nthee?\" \"Nay,\" answered he; \"none hath passed by me.\" But they\nceased not to go round about the shop till the day broke, when\nthey turned back, disappointed. Then the cook removed the grass\nand said to us, \"Arise, for ye are delivered from death.\" So we\narose, and we were uncovered, without mantle or veil; but the\ncook carried us up into his house and we sent to our lodgings and\nfetched us veils; and we repented unto God the Most High and\nrenounced singing,[FN#138] for indeed this was a great\ndeliverance after stress.'\n\nThe company marvelled at this story and the tenth officer came\nforward and said, 'As for me, there befell me that which was yet\nmore extraordinary than all this.' Quoth El Melik ez Zahir, 'What\nwas that?' And he said,\n\n\n\n\n\n                   THE TENTH OFFICER'S STORY.\n\n\n\n'A great theft had been committed in the city and I was\ncited,[FN#139] I and my fellows. Now it was a matter of\nconsiderable value and they[FN#140] pressed hard upon us; but we\nobtained of them some days' grace and dispersed in quest of the\nstolen goods. As for me, I sallied forth with five men and went\nround about the city that day; and on the morrow we fared forth\n[into the suburbs]. When we came a parasang or two parasangs'\ndistance from the city, we were athirst; and presently we came to\na garden. So I went in and going up to the water-wheel,[FN#141]\nentered it and drank and made the ablution and prayed. Presently\nup came the keeper of the garden and said to me, \"Out on thee!\nWho brought thee into this water-wheel?\" And he cuffed me and\nsqueezed my ribs till I was like to die. Then he bound me with\none of his bulls and made me turn in the water-wheel, flogging me\nthe while with a cattle whip he had with him, till my heart was\non fire; after which he loosed me and I went out, knowing not the\nway.\n\nWhen I came forth, I swooned away: so I sat down till my trouble\nsubsided; then I made for my comrades and said to them, \"I have\nfound the booty and the thief, and I affrighted him not neither\ntroubled him, lest he should flee; but now, come, let us go to\nhim, so we may make shift to lay hold upon him.\" Then I took them\nand repaired to the keeper of the garden, who had tortured me\nwith beating, meaning to make him taste the like of that which he\nhad done with me and lie against him and cause him eat stick. So\nwe rushed into the water-wheel and seizing the keeper, pinioned\nhim.\n\nNow there was with him a youth and he said, \"By Allah, I was not\nwith him and indeed it is six months since I entered the city,\nnor did I set eyes on the stuffs until they were brought hither.\"\nQuoth we, \"Show us the stuffs.\" So he carried us to a place\nwherein was a pit, beside the water-wheel, and digging there,\nbrought out the stolen goods, with not a stitch of them missing.\nSo we took them and carried the keeper to the prefecture, where\nwe stripped him and beat him with palm-rods till he confessed to\nthefts galore. Now I did this by way of mockery against my\ncomrades, and it succeeded.'[FN#142]\n\nThe company marvelled at this story with the utmost wonderment,\nand the eleventh officer rose and said, 'I know a story yet rarer\nthan this: but it happened not to myself.\n\n\n\n\n\n                 THE ELEVENTH OFFICER'S STORY.\n\n\n\nThere was once aforetime a chief officer [of police] and there\npassed by him one day a Jew, with a basket in his hand, wherein\nwere five thousand dinars; whereupon quoth the officer to one of\nhis slaves, \"Canst thou make shift to take that money from yonder\nJew's basket?\" \"Yes,\" answered he, nor did he tarry beyond the\nnext day before he came to his master, with the basket in his\nhand. So (quoth the officer) I said to him, \"Go, bury it in such\na place.\" So he went and buried it and returned and told me.\nHardly had he done this when there arose a clamour and up came\nthe Jew, with one of the king's officers, avouching that the\nmoney belonged to the Sultan and that he looked to none but us\nfor it. We demanded of him three days' delay, as of wont, and I\nsaid to him who had taken the money, \"Go and lay somewhat in the\nJew's house, that shall occupy him with himself.\" So he went and\nplayed a fine trick, to wit, he laid in a basket a dead woman's\nhand, painted [with henna] and having a gold seal- ring on one of\nthe fingers, and buried the basket under a flagstone in the Jew's\nhouse. Then came we and searched and found the basket, whereupon\nwe straightway clapped the Jew in irons for the murder of a\nwoman.\n\nWhen it was the appointed time, there came to us the man of the\nSultan's guards, [who had accompanied the Jew, when he came to\ncomplain of the loss of the money,] and said, \"The Sultan biddeth\nyou nail up[FN#143] the Jew and bring the money, for that there\nis no way by which five thousand dinars can be lost.\" Wherefore\nwe knew that our device sufficed not. So I went forth and finding\na young man, a Haurani,[FN#144] passing the road, laid hands on\nhim and stripped him and beat him with palm-rods. Then I clapped\nhim in irons and carrying him to the prefecture, beat him again,\nsaying to them, \"This is the thief who stole the money.\" And we\nstrove to make him confess; but he would not confess. So we beat\nhim a third and a fourth time, till we were weary and exhausted\nand he became unable to return an answer. But, when we had made\nan end of beating and tormenting him, he said, \"I will fetch the\nmoney forthright.\"\n\nSo we went with him till he came to the place where my slave had\nburied the money and dug there and brought it out; whereat I\nmarvelled with the utmost wonder and we carried it to the\nprefect's house. When the latter saw the money, he rejoiced with\nan exceeding joy and bestowed on me a dress of honour. Then he\nrestored the money straightway to the Sultan and we left the\nyouth in prison; whilst I said to my slave who had taken the\nmoney, \"Did yonder young man see thee, what time thou buriedst\nthe money?\" \"No, by the Great God!\" answered he. So I went in to\nthe young man, the prisoner, and plied him with wine till he\nrecovered, when I said to him, \"Tell me how thou stolest the\nmoney.\" \"By Allah,\" answered he, \"I stole it not, nor did I ever\nset eyes on it till I brought it forth of the earth!\" Quoth I,\n\"How so?\" And he said, \"Know that the cause of my falling into\nyour hands was my mother's imprecation against me; for that I\nevil entreated her yesternight and beat her and she said to me,\n'By Allah, O my son, God shall assuredly deliver thee into the\nhand of the oppressor!' Now she is a pious woman. So I went out\nforthright and thou sawest me in the way and didst that which\nthou didst; and when beating was prolonged on me, my senses\nfailed me and I heard one saying to me, 'Fetch it.' So I said to\nyou what I said and he[FN#145] guided me till I came to the place\nand there befell what befell of the bringing out of the money.\"\n\nI marvelled at this with the utmost wonderment and knew that he\nwas of the sons of the pious. So I bestirred myself for his\nrelease and tended him [till he recovered] and besought him of\nquittance and absolution of responsibility.'\n\nAll those who were present marvelled at this story with the\nutmost marvel, and the twelfth officer came forward and said, 'I\nwill tell you a pleasant trait that I had from a certain man,\nconcerning an adventure that befell him with one of the thieves.\n(Quoth he)\n\n\n\n\n\n                  THE TWELFTH OFFICER'S STORY.\n\n\n\nAs I was passing one day in the market, I found that a thief had\nbroken into the shop of a money-changer and taken thence a\ncasket, with which he had made off to the burial-grounds. So I\nfollowed him thither [and came up to him, as] he opened the\ncasket and fell a-looking into it; whereupon I accosted him,\nsaying, \"Peace be on thee!\" And he was startled at me. Then I\nleft him and went away from him.\n\nSome months after this, I met him again under arrest, in the\nmidst of the guards and officers of the police, and he said to\nthem, \"Seize yonder man.\" So they laid hands on me and carried me\nto the chief of the police, who said, \"What hast thou to do with\nthis fellow?\" The thief turned to me and looking a long while in\nmy face, said, \"Who took this man?\" Quoth the officers, \"Thou\nbadest us take him; so we took him.\" And he said, \"I seek refuge\nwith God! I know not this man, nor knoweth he me; and I said not\nthat to you but of a man other than this.\" So they released me,\nand awhile afterward the thief met me in the street and saluted\nme, saying, \"O my lord, fright for fright! Hadst thou taken aught\nfrom me, thou hadst had a part in the calamity.\"[FN#146] And I\nsaid to him, \"God [judge] between thee and me!\" And this is what\nI have to tell'\n\nThen came forward the thirteenth officer and said, 'I will tell\nyou a story that a man of my friends told me. (Quoth he)\n\n\n\n\n\n                THE THIRTEENTH OFFICER'S STORY.\n\n\n\nI went out one night to the house of one of my friends and when\nit was the middle of the night, I sallied forth alone [to go\nhome]. When I came into the road, I espied a sort of thieves and\nthey saw me, whereupon my spittle dried up; but I feigned myself\ndrunken and staggered from side to side, crying out and saying,\n\"I am drunken.\" And I went up to the walls right and left and\nmade as if I saw not the thieves, who followed me till I reached\nmy house and knocked at the door, when they went away.\n\nSome days after this, as I stood at the door of my house, there\ncame up to me a young man, with a chain about his neck and with\nhim a trooper, and he said to me, \"O my lord, charity for the\nlove of God!\" Quoth I, \"God open!\"[FN#147] and he looked at me a\nlong while and said, \"That which thou shouldst give me would not\ncome to the value of thy turban or thy waistcloth or what not\nelse of thy raiment, to say nothing of the gold and the silver\nthat was about thee.\" \"How so?\" asked I, and he said, \"On such a\nnight, when thou fellest into peril and the thieves would have\nstripped thee, I was with them and said to them, 'Yonder man is\nmy lord and my master who reared me.' So was I the cause of thy\ndeliverance and thus I saved thee from them.\" When I heard this,\nI said to him, \"Stop;\" and entering my house, brought him that\nwhich God the Most High made easy [to me].[FN#148] So he went his\nway. And this is my story.'\n\nThen came forward the fourteenth officer and said, 'Know that the\nstory I have to tell is pleasanter and more extraordinary than\nthis; and it is as follows.\n\n\n\n\n\n                THE FOURTEENTH OFFICER'S STORY.\n\n\n\nBefore I entered this corporation,[FN#149] I had a draper's shop\nand there used to come to me a man whom I knew not, save by his\nface, and I would give him what he sought and have patience with\nhim, till he could pay me. One day, I foregathered with certain\nof my friends and we sat down to drink. So we drank and made\nmerry and played at Tab;[FN#150] and we made one of us Vizier and\nanother Sultan and a third headsman.\n\nPresently, there came in upon us a spunger, without leave, and we\nwent on playing, whilst he played with us. Then quoth the Sultan\nto the Vizier, \"Bring the spunger who cometh in to the folk,\nwithout leave or bidding, that we may enquire into his case. Then\nwill I cut off his head.\" So the headsman arose and dragged the\nspunger before the Sultan, who bade cut off his head. Now there\nwas with them a sword, that would not cut curd;[FN#151] so the\nheadsman smote him therewith and his head flew from his body.\nWhen we saw this, the wine fled from our heads and we became in\nthe sorriest of plights. Then my friends took up the body and\nwent out with it, that they might hide it, whilst I took the head\nand made for the river.\n\nNow I was drunken and my clothes were drenched with the blood;\nand as I passed along the road, I met a thief. When he saw me, he\nknew me and said to me, \"Harkye, such an one!\" \"Well?\" answered\nI, and he said, \"What is that thou hast with thee?\" So I\nacquainted him with the case and he took the head from me. Then\nwe went on till we came to the river, where he washed the head\nand considering it straitly, said, \"By Allah, this is my brother,\nmy father's son. and he used to spunge upon the folk.\" Then he\nthrew the head into the river. As for me, I was like a dead man\n[for fear]; but he said to me, \"Fear not neither grieve, for thou\nart quit of my brother's blood.\"\n\nThen he took my clothes and washed them and dried them, and put\nthem on me; after which he said to me, \"Get thee gone to thy\nhouse.\" So I returned to my house and he accompanied me, till I\ncame thither, when he said to me, \"May God not forsake thee! I am\nthy friend [such an one, who used to take of thee goods on\ncredit,] and I am beholden to thee for kindness; but henceforward\nthou wilt never see me more.\"'\n\nThe company marvelled at the generosity of this man and his\nclemency[FN#152] and courtesy, and the Sultan said, 'Tell us\nanother of thy stories.'[FN#153] 'It is well,' answered the\nofficer, 'They avouch that\n\n\n\n\n\n                    A MERRY JEST OF A THIEF.\n\n\n\nA thief of the thieves of the Arabs went [one night] to a certain\nman's house, to steal from a heap of wheat there, and the people\nof the house surprised him. Now on the heap was a great copper\nmeasure, and the thief buried himself in the corn and covered his\nhead with the measure, so that the folk found him not and went\naway; but, as they were going, behold, there came a great crack\nof wind forth of the corn. So they went up to the measure and\n[raising it], discovered the thief and laid hands on him. Quoth\nhe, \"I have eased you of the trouble of seeking me: for I\npurposed, [in letting wind], to direct you to my [hiding-]place;\nwherefore do ye ease me and have compassion on me, so may God\nhave compassion on you!\" So they let him go and harmed him not.\n\nAnd for another story of the same kind,' continued the officer,\n\n\n\n\n\n                   STORY OF THE OLD SHARPER.\n\n\n\n'There was once an old man renowned for roguery, and he went, he\nand his mates, to one of the markets and stole thence a parcel of\nstuffs. Then they separated and returned each to his quarter.\nAwhile after this, the old man assembled a company of his fellows\nand one of them pulled out a costly piece of stuff and said,\n\"Will any one of you sell this piece of stuff in its own market\nwhence it was stolen, that we may confess his [pre-eminence in]\nsharping?\" Quoth the old man, \"I will;\" and they said, \"Go, and\nGod the Most High prosper thee!\"\n\nSo on the morrow, early, he took the stuff and carrying it to the\nmarket whence it had been stolen, sat down at the shop whence it\nhad been stolen and gave it to the broker, who took it and cried\nit for sale. Its owner knew it and bidding for it, [bought it]\nand sent after the chief of the police, who seized the sharper\nand seeing him an old man of venerable appearance, handsomely\nclad, said to him, \"Whence hadst thou this piece of stuff?\" \"I\nhad it from this market,\" answered he, \"and from yonder shop\nwhere I was sitting.\" Quoth the prefect, \"Did its owner sell it\nto thee?\" \"Nay,\" replied the thief; \"I stole it and other than\nit.\" Then said the magistrate, \"How camest thou to bring it [for\nsale] to the place whence thou stolest it?\" And he answered, \"I\nwill not tell my story save to the Sultan, for that I have an\nadvertisement[FN#154] wherewith I would fain bespeak him.\" Quoth\nthe prefect, \"Name it.\" And the thief said, \"Art thou the\nSultan?\" \"No,\" replied the other; and the old man said, \"I will\nnot tell it but to himself.\"\n\nSo the prefect carried him up to the Sultan and he said, \"I have\nan advertisement for thee, O my lord.\" \"What is thine\nadvertisement?\" asked the Sultan; and the thief said, \"I repent\nand will deliver into thy hand all who are evildoers; and\nwhomsoever I bring not, I will stand in his stead.\" Quoth the\nSultan, \"Give him a dress of honour and accept his profession of\nrepentance.\" So he went down from the presence and returning to\nhis comrades, related to them that which had passed and they\nconfessed his subtlety and gave him that which they had promised\nhim. Then he took the rest of the stolen goods and went up with\nthem to the Sultan. When the latter saw him, he was magnified in\nhis eyes and he commanded that nought should be taken from him.\nThen, when he went down, [the Sultan's] attention was diverted\nfrom him, little by little, till the case was forgotten, and so\nhe saved the booty [for himself].' The folk marvelled at this and\nthe fifteenth officer came forward and said, 'Know that among\nthose who make a trade of knavery are those whom God the Most\nHigh taketh on their own evidence against themselves.' 'How so?'\nasked they; and he said.\n\n\n\n\n\n                 THE FIFTEENTH OFFICER'S STORY.\n\n\n\n'It is told of a certain doughty thief, that he used to rob and\nstop the way by himself upon caravans, and whenever the prefect\nof police and the magistrates sought him, he would flee from them\nand fortify himself in the mountains. Now it befell that a\ncertain man journeyed along the road wherein was the robber in\nquestion, and this man was alone and knew not the perils that\nbeset his way. So the highwayman came out upon him and said to\nhim, \"Bring out that which is with thee, for I mean to slay thee\nwithout fail.\" Quoth the traveller, \"Slay me not, but take these\nsaddle-bags and divide [that which is in] them and take the\nfourth part [thereof].\" And the thief answered, \"I will not take\naught but the whole.\" \"Take half,\" rejoined the traveller, \"and\nlet me go.\" But the robber replied, \"I will take nought but the\nwhole, and I will slay thee [to boot].\" And the traveller said,\n\"Take it.\"\n\nSo the highwayman took the saddle-bags and offered to kill the\ntraveller, who said, \"What is this? Thou hast no blood-feud\nagainst me, that should make my slaughter incumbent [on thee].\nQuoth the other, \"Needs must I slay thee;\" whereupon the\ntraveller dismounted from his horse and grovelled on the earth,\nbeseeching the robber and speaking him fair. The latter hearkened\nnot to his prayers, but cast him to the ground; whereupon the\ntraveller [raised his eyes and seeing a francolin flying over\nhim,] said, in his agony,\" O francolin, bear witness that this\nman slayeth me unjustly and wickedly; for indeed I have given him\nall that was with me and besought him to let me go, for my\nchildren's sake; yet would he not consent unto this. But be thou\nwitness against him, for God is not unmindful of that which is\ndone of the oppressors.\" The highwayman paid no heed to this\nspeech, but smote him and cut off his head.\n\nAfter this, the authorities compounded with the highwayman for\nhis submission, and when he came before them, they enriched him\nand he became in such favour with the Sultan's deputy that he\nused to eat and drink with him and there befell familiar converse\nbetween them. On this wise they abode a great while, till, one\nday, the Sultan's deputy made a banquet, and therein, for a\nwonder, was a roasted francolin, which when the robber saw, he\nlaughed aloud. The deputy was angered against him and said to\nhim, \"What is the meaning of thy laughter? Seest thou default [in\nthe entertainment] or dost thou mock at us, of thy lack of\nbreeding?\" \"Not so, by Allah, O my lord,\" answered the\nhighwayman. \"But I saw yonder francolin and bethought myself\nthereanent of an extraordinary thing; and it was on this wise. In\nthe days of my youth, I used to stop the way, and one day I fell\nin with a man, who had with him a pair of saddle-bags and money\ntherein. So I said to him, 'Leave these bags, for I mean to kill\nthee.' Quoth he, 'Take the fourth part of [that which is in] them\nand leave [me] the rest.' And I said, 'Needs must I take the\nwhole and slay thee, to boot.' Then said he, 'Take the\nsaddle-bags and let me go my way.' But I answered, 'Needs must I\nslay thee.' As we were in this contention, he and I, behold, he\nsaw a francolin and turning to it, said, 'Bear witness against\nhim, O francolin, that he slayeth me unjustly and letteth me not\ngo to my children, for all he hath gotten my money.' However, I\ntook no pity on him neither hearkened to that which he said, but\nslew him and concerned not myself with the francolin's\ntestimony.\"\n\nHis story troubled the Sultan's deputy and he was sore enraged\nagainst him; so he drew his sword and smiting him, cut off his\nhead; whereupon one recited the following verses:\n\nAn you'd of evil be quit, look that no evil yon do; Nay, but do\n     good, for the like God will still render to you.\nAll things, indeed, that betide to you are fore-ordered of God;\n     Yet still in your deeds is the source to which their\n     fulfilment is due.\n\nNow this[FN#155] was the francolin that bore witness against\nhim.'\n\nThe company marvelled at this story and said all, 'Woe to the\noppressor!' Then came forward the sixteenth officer and said,\n'And I also will tell you a marvellous story, and it is on this\nwise.\n\n\n\n\n\n                 THE SIXTEENTH OFFICER'S STORY.\n\n\n\nI went forth one day, purposing to make a journey, and fell in\nwith a man whose wont it was to stop the way. When he came up\nwith me, he offered to slay me and I said to him, \"I have nothing\nwith me whereby thou mayst profit.\" Quoth he, \"My profit shall be\nthe taking of thy life.\" \"What is the cause of this?\" asked I.\n\"Hath there been feud between us aforetime?\" And he answered,\n\"No; but needs must I slay thee.\" Therewithal I fled from him to\nthe river-side; but he overtook me and casting me to the ground,\nsat down on my breast. So I sought help of the Sheikh El\nHejjaj[FN#156] and said to him, \"Protect me from this oppressor!\"\nAnd indeed he had drawn a knife, wherewith to cut my throat,\nwhen, behold, there came a great crocodile forth of the river and\nsnatching him up from off my breast, plunged with him into the\nwater, with the knife still in his hand; whilst I abode extolling\nthe perfection of God the Most High and rendering thanks for my\npreservation to Him who had delivered me from the hand of that\noppressor.'\n\n\n\n\n\n            ABDALLAH BEN NAFI AND THE KING'S SON OF\n                       CASHGHAR.[FN#157]\n\n\n\nThere abode once, of old days and in bygone ages and times, in\nthe city of Baghdad, the Abode of Peace, the Khalif Haroun er\nReshid, and he had boon-companions and story-tellers, to\nentertain him by night Among his boon-companions was a man called\nAbdallah ben Nan, who was high in favour with him and dear unto\nhim, so that he was not forgetful of him a single hour. Now it\nbefell, by the ordinance of destiny, that it became manifest to\nAbdallah that he was grown of little account with the Khalif and\nthat he paid no heed unto him; nor, if he absented himself, did\nhe enquire concerning him, as had been his wont. This was\ngrievous to Abdallah and he said in himself, \"Verily, the heart\nof the Commander of the Faithful and his fashions are changed\ntowards me and nevermore shall I get of him that cordiality\nwherewith he was wont to entreat me.\" And this was distressful to\nhim and concern waxed upon him, so that he recited the following\nverses:\n\nIf, in his own land, midst his folk, abjection and despite\n     Afflict a man, then exile sure were better for the wight.\nSo get thee gone, then, from a house wherein thou art abased And\n     let not severance from friends lie heavy on thy spright.\nCrude amber[FN#158] in its native land unheeded goes, but, when\n     It comes abroad, upon the necks to raise it men delight.\nKohl[FN#159] in its native country, too, is but a kind of stone;\n     Cast out and thrown upon the ways, it lies unvalued quite;\nBut, when from home it fares, forthright all glory it attains And\n     'twixt the eyelid and the eye incontinent 'tis dight.\n\nThen he could brook this no longer; so he went forth from the\ndominions of the Commander of the Faithful, under pretence of\nvisiting certain of his kinsmen, and took with him servant nor\ncompanion, neither acquainted any with his intent, but betook\nhimself to the road and fared on into the desert and the\nsandwastes, knowing not whither he went. After awhile, he fell in\nwith travellers intending for the land of Hind [and journeyed\nwith them]. When he came thither, he lighted down [in a city of\nthe cities of the land and took up his abode] in one of the\nlodging-places; and there he abode a while of days, tasting not\nfood neither solacing himself with the delight of sleep; nor was\nthis for lack of dirhems or dinars, but for that his mind was\noccupied with musing upon [the reverses of] destiny and bemoaning\nhimself for that the revolving sphere had turned against him and\nthe days had decreed unto him the disfavour of our lord the\nImam.[FN#160]\n\nOn this wise he abode a space of days, after which he made\nhimself at home in the land and took to himself comrades and got\nhim friends galore, with whom he addressed himself to diversion\nand good cheer. Moreover, he went a-pleasuring with his friends\nand their hearts were solaced [by his company] and he entertained\nthem with stories and civilities[FN#161] and diverted them with\npleasant verses and told them abundance of histories and\nanecdotes. Presently, the report of him reached King Jemhour,\nlord of Cashghar of Hind, and great was his desire [for his\ncompany]. So he went in quest of him and Abdallah repaired to his\ncourt and going in to him, kissed the earth before him. Jemhour\nwelcomed him and entreated him with kindness and bade commit him\nto the guest-house, where he abode three days, at the end of\nwhich time the king sent [to him] a chamberlain of his\nchamberlains and let bring him to his presence. When he came\nbefore him, he greeted him [with the usual compliment], and the\ninterpreter accosted him, saying, \"King Jemhour hath heard of thy\nreport, that thou art a goodly boon-companion and an eloquent\nstory-teller, and he would have thee company with him by night\nand entertain him with that which thou knowest of anecdotes and\npleasant stories and verses.\" And he made answer with \"Hearkening\nand obedience.\"\n\n(Quoth Abdallah ben Nan) So I became his boon-companion and\nentertained him by night [with stories and the like]; and this\npleased him to the utmost and he took me into especial favour and\nbestowed on me dresses of honour and assigned me a separate\nlodging; brief, he was everywise bountiful to me and could not\nbrook to be parted from me a single hour. So I abode with him a\nwhile of time and every night I caroused with him [and\nentertained him], till the most part of the night was past; and\nwhen drowsiness overcame him, he would rise [and betake himself]\nto his sleeping-place, saying to me, \"Forsake not my service for\nthat of another than I and hold not aloof from my presence.\" And\nI made answer with \"Hearkening and obedience.\"\n\nNow the king had a son, a pleasant child, called the Amir\nMohammed, who was comely of youth and sweet of speech; he had\nread in books and studied histories and above all things in the\nworld he loved the telling and hearing of verses and stories and\nanecdotes. He was dear to his father King Jemhour, for that he\nhad none other son than he on life, and indeed he had reared him\nin the lap of fondness and he was gifted with the utterest of\nbeauty and grace and brightness and perfection. Moreover, he had\nlearnt to play upon the lute and upon all manner instruments of\nmusic and he was used to [carouse and] company with friends and\nbrethren. Now it was of his wont that, when the king rose to go\nto his sleeping-chamber, he would sit in his place and seek of me\nthat I should entertain him with stories and verses and pleasant\nanecdotes; and on this wise I abode with them a great while in\nall cheer and delight, and the prince still loved me with an\nexceeding great love and entreated me with the utmost kindness.\n\nIt befell one day that the king's son came to me, after his\nfather had withdrawn, and said to me, \"Harkye, Ibn Nafil\" \"At thy\nservice, O my lord,\" answered I; and he said, \"I would have thee\ntell me an extraordinary story and a rare matter, that thou hast\nnever related either to me or to my father Jemhour.\" \"O my lord,\"\nrejoined I, \"what story is this that thou desirest of me and of\nwhat kind shall it be of the kinds?\" Quoth he, \"It matters little\nwhat it is, so it be a goodly story, whether it befell of old\ndays or in these times.\" \"O my lord,\" said I, \"I know many\nstories of various kinds; so whether of the kinds preferrest\nthou, and wilt thou have a story of mankind or of the Jinn?\" \"It\nis well,\" answered he; \"if thou have seen aught with thine eyes\nand heard it with thine ears, [tell it me.\"Then he bethought\nhimself] and said to me, \"I conjure thee by my life, tell me a\nstory of the stories of the Jinn and that which thou hast heard\nand seen of them!\" \"O my son,\" replied I, \"indeed thou conjurest\n[me] by a mighty conjuration; so [hearken and thou shalt] hear\nthe goodliest of stories, ay, and the most extraordinary of them\nand the pleasantest and rarest.\" Quoth the prince, \"Say on, for I\nam attentive to thy speech.\" And I said, \"Know, then, O my son,\nthat\n\n\n\n\n\n            STORY OF THE DAMSEL TUHFET EL CULOUB AND\n                  THE KHALIF HAROUN ER RESHID.\n\n\n\nThe Vicar of the Lord of the Worlds[FN#162] Haroun er Reshid had\na boon-companion of the number of his boon-companions, by name\nIshac ben Ibrahim en Nedim el Mausili,[FN#163] who was the most\naccomplished of the folk of his time in the art of smiting upon\nthe lute; and of the Commander of the Faithful's love for him, he\nassigned him a palace of the choicest of his palaces, wherein he\nwas wont to instruct slave-girls in the arts of lute-playing and\nsinging. If any slave-girl became, by his instruction,\naccomplished in the craft, he carried her before the Khalif, who\nbade her play upon the lute; and if she pleased him, he would\norder her to the harem; else would he restore her to Ishac's\npalace.\n\nOne day, the Commander of the Faithful's breast was straitened;\nso he sent after his Vizier Jaafer the Barmecide and Ishac the\nboon-companion and Mesrour the eunuch, the swordsman of his\nvengeance; and when they came, he changed his raiment and\ndisguised himself, whilst Jaafer [and Ishac] and Mesrour and El\nFezll[FN#164] and Younus[FN#165] (who were also present) did the\nlike. Then he went out, he and they, by the privy gate, to the\nTigris and taking boat, fared on till they came to near Et\nTaf,[FN#166] when they landed and walked till they came to the\ngate of the thoroughfare street.[FN#167] Here there met them an\nold man, comely of hoariness and of a venerable and dignified\nbearing, pleasing[FN#168] of aspect and apparel. He kissed the\nearth before Ishac el Mausili (for that be knew but him of the\ncompany, the Khalif being disguised, and deemed the others\ncertain of his friends) and said to him, 'O my lord, there is\npresently with me a slave-girl, a lutanist, never saw eyes the\nlike of her nor the like of her grace, and indeed I was on my way\nto pay my respects to thee and give thee to know of her; but\nAllah, of His favour, hath spared me the trouble. So now I desire\nto show her to thee, and if she be to thy liking, well and good:\nelse I will sell her.' Quoth Ishac, 'Go before me to thy barrack,\ntill I come to thee and see her.'\n\nThe old man kissed his hand and went away; whereupon quoth Er\nReshid to him, 'O Ishac, who is yonder man and what is his\noccasion?' 'O my lord,' answered the other, 'this is a man called\nSaid the Slave-dealer, and he it is who buyeth us slave-girls and\nmamelukes.[FN#169] He avoucheth that with him is a fair\n[slave-girl, a] lutanist, whom he hath withheld from sale, for\nthat he could not fairly sell her till he had shown her to me.'\n'Let us go to him,' said the Khalif,'so we may look on her, by\nway of diversion, and see what is in the slave-dealer's barrack\nof slave-girls.' And Ishac answered, 'Commandment belongeth to\nGod and to the Commander of the Faithful.' Then he went on before\nthem and they followed in his track till they came to the\nslave-dealer's barrack and found it high of building and spacious\nof continence, with sleeping-cells and chambers therein, after\nthe number of the slave-girls, and folk sitting upon the benches.\n\nIshac entered, he and his company, and seating themselves in the\nplace of honour, amused themselves by looking on the slave-girls\nand mamelukes and watching how they were sold, till the sale came\nto an end, when some of the folk went away and other some sat.\nThen said the slave-dealer, 'Let none sit with us except him who\nbuyeth by the thousand [dinars] and upwards.' So those who were\npresent withdrew and there remained none but Er Reshid and his\ncompany; whereupon the slave-dealer called the damsel, after he\nhad caused set her a chair of fawwak,[FN#170] furnished with\nGreek brocade, and it was as she were the sun shining in the\nclear sky. When she entered, she saluted and sitting down, took\nthe lute and smote upon it, after she had touched its strings and\ntuned it, so that all present were amazed. Then she sang thereto\nthe following verses:\n\nWind of the East, if thou pass by the land where my loved ones\n     dwell, I pray, The fullest of greetings bear to them from\n     me, their lover, and say\nThat I am the pledge of passion still and that my longing love\n     And eke my yearning do overpass all longing that was aye.\nO ye who have withered my heart and marred my hearing and my\n     sight, Desire and transport for your sake wax on me night\n     and day.\nMy heart with yearning is ever torn and tortured without cease,\n     Nor can my lids lay hold on sleep, that Sees from them away.\n\n'Well done, O damsel!' cried Ishac. 'By Allah, this is a fair\nhour!' Whereupon she rose and kissed his hand, saying, 'O my\nlord, the hands stand still in thy presence and the tongues at\nthy sight, and the eloquent before thee are dumb; but thou art\nthe looser of the veil.'[FN#171] Then she clung to him and said,\n'Stand.' So he stood and said to her, 'Who art thou and what is\nthy need?' She raised a corner of the veil, and he beheld a\ndamsel as she were the rising full moon or the glancing\nlightning, with two side locks of hair that fell down to her\nanklets. She kissed his hand and said to him, 'O my lord, know\nthat I have been in this barrack these five months, during which\ntime I have been withheld[FN#172] from sale till thou shouldst be\npresent [and see me]; and yonder slave-dealer still made thy\ncoming a pretext to me[FN#173] and forbade me, for all I sought\nof him night and day that he should cause thee come hither and\nvouchsafe me thy presence and bring me and thee together.' Quoth\nIshac, 'Say what thou wouldst have.' And she answered, 'I beseech\nthee, by God the Most High, that thou buy me, so I may be with\nthee, by way of service.' 'Is that thy desire?' asked he, and she\nreplied, ' Yes.'\n\nSo Ishac returned to the slave-dealer and said to him, 'Harkye,\nGaffer Said!*' 'At thy service, O my lord,' answered the old man;\nand Ishac said, 'In the corridor is a cell and therein a damsel\npale of colour. What is her price in money and how much dost thou\nask for her?, Quoth the slave-dealer, 'She whom thou mentionest\nis called Tuhfet el Hemca.'[FN#174] 'What is the meaning of El\nHemca?' asked Ishac, and the old man replied, 'Her price hath\nbeen paid down an hundred times and she still saith, \"Show me him\nwho desireth to buy me;\" and when I show her to him, she saith,\n\"This fellow is not to my liking; he hath in him such and such a\ndefault.\" And in every one who would fain buy her she allegeth\nsome default or other, so that none careth now to buy her and\nnone seeketh her, for fear lest she discover some default in\nhim.' Quoth Ishac, 'She seeketh presently to sell herself; so go\nthou to her and enquire of her and see her price and send her to\nthe palace.' 'O my lord,' answered Said, 'her price is an hundred\ndinars, though, were she whole of this paleness that is upon her\nface, she would be worth a thousand; but folly and pallor have\ndiminished her value; and behold, I will go to her and consult\nher of this.' So he betook himself to her, and said to her, 'Wilt\nthou be sold to Ishac ben Ibrahim el Mausili?' 'Yes,' answered\nshe, and he said, 'Leave frowardness,[FN#175] for to whom doth it\nhappen to be in the house of Ishac the boon-companion?'[FN#176]\n\nThen Ishac went forth of the barrack and overtook Er Reshid [who\nhad foregone him]; and they walked till they came to their\n[landing-]place, where they embarked in the boat and fared on to\nTheghr el Khanekah.[FN#177] As for the slave-dealer, he sent the\ndamsel to the house of Ishac en Nedim, whose slave-girls took her\nand carried her to the bath. Then each damsel gave her somewhat\nof her apparel and they decked her with earrings and bracelets,\nso that she redoubled in beauty and became as she were the moon\non the night of its full. When Ishac returned home from the\nKhalifs palace, Tuhfeh rose to him and kissed his hand; and he\nsaw that which the slave-girls had done with her and thanked them\ntherefor and said to them, 'Let her be in the house of\ninstruction and bring her instruments of music, and if she be apt\nunto singing, teach her; and may God the Most High vouchsafe her\nhealth and weal!' So there passed over her three months, what\nwhile she abode with him in the house of instruction, and they\nbrought her the instruments of music. Moreover, as time went on,\nshe was vouchsafed health and soundness and her beauty waxed many\ntimes greater than before and her pallor was changed to white and\nred, so that she became a ravishment to all who looked on her.\n\nOne day, Ishac let bring all who were with him of slave-girls\nfrom the house of instruction and carried them up to Er Reshid's\npalace, leaving none in his house save Tuhfeh and a cookmaid; for\nthat he bethought him not of Tuhfeh, nor did she occur to his\nmind, and none of the damsels remembered him of her. When she saw\nthat the house was empty of the slave-girls, she took the lute\n(now she was unique in her time in smiting upon the lute, nor had\nshe her like in the world, no, not Ishac himself, nor any other)\nand sang thereto the following verses:\n\nWhenas the soul desireth one other than its peer, It winneth not\n     of fortune the wish it holdeth dear.\nHim with my life I'd ransom whose rigours waste away My frame and\n     cause me languish; yet, if he would but hear,\nIt rests with him to heal me; and I (a soul he hath Must suffer\n     that which irks it), go saying, in my fear\nOf spies, \"How long, O scoffer, wilt mock at my despair, As\n     'twere God had created nought else whereat to jeer?\"\n\nNow Ishac had returned to his house upon an occasion that\npresented itself to him; and when he entered the vestibule, he\nheard a sound of singing, the like whereof he had never heard in\nthe world, for that it was [soft] as the breeze and\nricher[FN#178] than almond oil.[FN#179] So the delight of it gat\nhold of him and joyance overcame him, and he fell down aswoon in\nthe vestibule, Tuhfeh heard the noise of steps and laying the\nlute from her hand, went out to see what was to do. She found her\nlord Ishac lying aswoon in the vestibule; so she took him up and\nstrained him to her bosom, saying, 'I conjure thee in God's name,\nO my lord, tell me, hath aught befallen thee?' When he heard her\nvoice, he recovered from his swoon and said to her, 'Who art\nthou? ' Quoth she, 'I am thy slave-girl Tuhfeh.' And he said to\nher, 'Art thou indeed Tuhfeh?' 'Yes,' answered she; and he, 'By\nAllah, I had forgotten thee and remembered thee not till now!'\nThen he looked at her and said, 'Indeed, thy case is altered and\nthy pallor is grown changed to rosiness and thou hast redoubled\nin beauty and lovesomeness. But was it thou who was singing but\nnow?' And she was troubled and affrighted and answered, 'Even I,\nO my lord.'\n\nThen Ishac seized upon her hand and carrying her into the house,\nsaid to her, 'Take the lute and sing; for never saw I nor heard\nthy like in smiting upon the lute; no, not even myself!' 'O my\nlord,' answered she, 'thou makest mock of me. Who am I that thou\nshouldst say all this to me? Indeed, this is but of thy\nkindness.' 'Nay, by Allah,' exclaimed he, 'I said but the truth\nto thee and I am none of those on whom pretence imposeth. These\nthree months hath nature not moved thee to take the lute and sing\nthereto, and this is nought but an extraordinary thing. But all\nthis cometh of strength in the craft and self-restraint.' Then he\nbade her sing; and she said, 'Hearkening and obedience.' So she\ntook the lute and tightening its strings, smote thereon a number\nof airs, so that she confounded Ishac's wit and he was like to\nfly for delight. Then she returned to the first mode and sang\nthereto the following verses:\n\nStill by your ruined camp a dweller I abide; Ne'er will I change\n     nor e'er shall distance us divide.\nFar though you dwell, I'll ne'er your neighbourhood forget, O\n     friends, whose lovers still for you are stupefied.\nYour image midst mine eye sits nor forsakes me aye; Ye are my\n     moons in gloom of night and shadowtide.\nStill, as my transports wax, grows restlessness on me And woes\n     have ta'en the place of love-delight denied.\n\nWhen she had made an end of her song and laid down the lute,\nIshac looked fixedly on her, then took her hand and offered to\nkiss it; but she snatched it from him and said to him, 'Allah, O\nmy lord, do not that!' Quoth he, 'Be silent. By Allah, I had said\nthat there was not in the world the like of me; but now I have\nfound my dinar[FN#180] in the craft but a danic,[FN#181] \"for\nthou art, beyond comparison or approximation or reckoning, more\nexcellent of skill than I! This very day will I carry thee up to\nthe Commander of the Faithful Haroun er Reshid, and whenas his\nglance lighteth on thee, thou wilt become a princess of\nwomankind. So, Allah, Allah upon thee, O my lady, whenas thou\nbecomest of the household of the Commander of the Faithful, do\nnot thou forget me!' And she replied, saying, 'Allah, O my lord,\nthou art the source of my fortunes and in thee is my heart\nfortified.' So he took her hand and made a covenant with her of\nthis and she swore to him that she would not forget him.\n\nThen said he to her, 'By Allah, thou art the desire of the\nCommander of the Faithful![FN#182] So take the lute and sing a\nsong that thou shalt sing to the Khalif, whenas thou goest in to\nhim.' So she took the lute and tuning it, sang the following\nverses:\n\nHis love on him took pity and wept for his dismay: Of those that\n     him did visit she was, as sick he lay.\nShe let him taste her honey and wine[FN#183] before his death:\n     This was his last of victual until the Judgment Day.\n\nIshac stared at her and seizing her hand, said to her, 'Know that\nI am bound by an oath that, when the singing of a damsel pleaseth\nme, she shall not make an end of her song but before the\nCommander of the Faithful. But now tell me, how came it that thou\nabodest with the slave-dealer five months and wast not sold to\nany, and thou of this skill, more by token that the price set on\nthee was no great matter?'\n\nShe laughed and answered, 'O my lord, my story is a strange one\nand my case extraordinary. Know that I belonged aforetime to a\nMughrebi merchant, who bought me, when I was three years old, and\nthere were in his house many slave-girls and eunuchs; but I was\nthe dearest to him of them all. So he kept me with him and used\nnot to call me but \"daughterling,\" and indeed I am presently a\nclean maid. Now there was with him a damsel, a lutanist, and she\nreared me and taught me the craft, even as thou seest. Then was\nmy master admitted to the mercy of God the Most High[FN#184] and\nhis sons divided his good. I fell to the lot of one of them; but\nit was only a little while ere he had squandered all his\nsubstance and there was left him no tittle of money. So I left\nthe lute, fearing lest I should fall into the hand of a man who\nknew not my worth, for that I was assured that needs must my\nmaster sell me; and indeed it was but a few days ere he carried\nme forth to the barrack of the slave-merchant who buyeth\nslave-girls and showeth them to the Commander of the Faithful.\nNow I desired to learn the craft; so I refused to be sold to\nother than thou, till God (extolled be His perfection and exalted\nbe He!) vouchsafed me my desire of thy presence; whereupon I came\nout to thee, whenas I heard of thy coming, and besought thee to\nbuy me. Thou healedst my heart and boughtedst me; and since I\nentered thy house, O my lord, I have not taken up the lute till\nnow; but to-day, whenas I was quit of the slave-girls, [I took\nit]; and my purpose in this was that I might see if my hand were\nchanged[FN#185] or no. As I was singing, I heard a step in the\nvestibule; so I laid the lute from my hand and going forth to see\nwhat was to do, found thee, O my lord, on this wise.'\n\nQuoth Ishac, 'Indeed, this was of thy fair fortune. By Allah, I\nknow not that which thou knowest in this craft!' Then he arose\nand going to a chest, brought out therefrom striped clothes of\ngreat price, netted with jewels and great pearls, and said to\nher, 'In the name of God, don these, O my lady Tuhfeh.' So she\narose and donned those clothes and veiled herself and went up\n[with Ishac] to the palace of the Khalifate, where he made her\nstand without, whilst he himself went in to the Commander of the\nFaithful (with whom was Jaafer the Barmecide) and kissing the\nearth before him, said to him, 'O Commander of the Faithful, I\nhave brought thee a damsel, never saw eyes her like for\nexcellence in singing and touching the lute; and her name is\nTuhfeh.\"[FN#186] 'And where,' asked Er Reshed, 'is this Tuhfeh,\nwho hath not her like in the world?' Quoth Ishac, 'Yonder she\nstands, O Commander of the Faithful;' and he acquainted the\nKhalif with her case from first to last. Then said Er Reshid, 'It\nis a marvel to hear thee praise a slave-girl after this fashion.\nAdmit her, so we may see her, for that the morning may not be\nhidden.'\n\nAccordingly, Ishac bade admit her; so she entered, and when her\neyes fell upon the Commander of the Faithful, she kissed the\nearth before him and said, 'Peace be upon thee, O Commander of\nthe Faithful and asylum of the people of the faith and reviver of\njustice among all creatures! May God make plain the treading of\nthy feet and vouchsafe thee enjoyment of that which He hath\nbestowed on thee and make Paradise thy harbourage and the fire\nthat of thine enemies!' Quoth Er Reshid, 'And on thee be peace, O\ndamsel! Sit.' So she sat down and he bade her sing; whereupon she\ntook the lute and tightening its strings, played thereon in many\nmodes, so that the Commander of the Faithful and Jaafer were\nconfounded and like to fly for delight. Then she returned to the\nfirst mode and sang the following verses:\n\nBy Him whom I worship, indeed, I swear, O thou that mine eye dost\n     fill, By Him in whose honour the pilgrims throng and fare to\n     Arafat's hill,\nThough over me be the tombstone laid, if ever thou call on me,\n     Though rotten my bone should be, thy voice I'll answer, come\n     what will.\nI crave none other than thou for friend, beloved of my heart; So\n     trust in my speech, for the generous are true and trusty\n     still.\n\nEr Reshid considered her beauty and the goodliness of her singing\nand her eloquence and what not else she comprised of qualities\nand rejoiced with an exceeding joyance; and for the stress of\nthat which overcame him of delight, he descended from the couch\nand sitting down with her upon the ground, said to her, 'Thou\nhast done well, O Tuhfeh. By Allah, thou art indeed a\ngift'[FN#187] Then he turned to Ishac and said to him, 'Thou\ndealtest not equitably, O Ishac, in the description of this\ndamsel,[FN#188] neither settest out all that she compriseth of\ngoodliness and skill; for that, by Allah, she is incomparably\nmore skilful than thou; and I know of this craft that which none\nknoweth other than I!' 'By Allah,' exclaimed Jaafer, 'thou sayst\nsooth, O my lord, O Commander of the Faithful. Indeed, this\ndamsel hath done away my wit' Quoth Ishac, 'By Allah, O Commander\nof the Faithful, I had said that there was not on the face of the\nearth one who knew the craft of the lute like myself; but, when I\nheard her, my skill became nothing worth in mine eyes.'\n\nThen said the Khalif to her, 'Repeat thy playing, O Tuhfeh.' So\nshe repeated it and he said to her, 'Well done!' Moreover, he\nsaid to Ishac, 'Thou hast indeed brought me that which is\nextraordinary and worth in mine eyes the empire of the earth.'\nThen he turned to Mesrour the eunuch and said to him, 'Carry\nTuhfeh to the lodging of honour.'[FN#189] Accordingly, she went\naway with Mesrour and the Khalif looked at her clothes and seeing\nher clad in raiment of choice, said to Ishac, 'O Ishac, whence\nhath she these clothes?' 'O my lord, answered he, 'these are\nsomewhat of thy bounties and thy largesse, and they are a gift to\nher from me. By Allah, O Commander of the Faithful, the world,\nall of it, were little in comparison with her!' Then the Khalif\nturned to the Vizier Jaafer and said to him, 'Give Ishac fifty\nthousand dirhems and a dress of honour of the apparel of choice.'\n'Hearkening and obedience,' replied Jaafer and gave him that\nwhich the Khalif ordered him.\n\nAs for Er Reshid, he shut himself up with Tuhfeh that night and\nfound her a clean maid and rejoiced in her; and she took high\nrank in his heart, so that he could not endure from her a single\nhour and committed to her the keys of the affairs of the realm,\nfor that which he saw in her of good breeding and wit and\nmodesty. Moreover, he gave her fifty slave-girls and two hundred\nthousand dinars and clothes and trinkets and jewels and precious\nstones, worth the kingdom of Egypt; and of the excess of his love\nfor her, he would not entrust her to any of the slave-girls or\neunuchs; but, whenas he went out from her, he locked the door\nupon her and took the key with him, against he should return to\nher, forbidding the damsels to go in to her, of his fear lest\nthey should slay her or practise on her with knife or poison; and\non this wise he abode awhile.\n\nOne day as she sang before the Commander of the Faithful, he was\nmoved to exceeding delight, so that he took her and offered to\nkiss her hand; but she drew it away from him and smote upon her\nlute and broke it and wept Er Reshid wiped away her tears and\nsaid, 'O desire of the heart, what is it maketh thee weep? May\nGod not cause an eye of thine to weep!' 'O my lord,' answered\nshe, 'what am I that thou shouldst kiss my hand? Wilt thou have\nGod punish me for this and that my term should come to an end and\nmy felicity pass away? For this is what none ever attained unto.'\nQuoth he, 'Well said, O Tuhfeh. Know that thy rank in my esteem\nis mighty and for that which wondered me of what I saw of thee, I\noffered to do this, but I will not return unto the like thereof;\nso be of good heart and cheerful eye, for I have no desire for\nother than thyself and will not die but in the love of thee, and\nthou to me art queen and mistress, to the exclusion of all\nhumankind.' Therewith she fell to kissing his feet; and this her\nfashion pleased him, so that his love for her redoubled and he\nbecame unable to brook an hour's severance from her.\n\nOne day he went forth to the chase and left Tuhfeh in her\npavilion. As she sat looking upon a book, with a candlestick of\ngold before her, wherein was a perfumed candle, behold, a\nmusk-apple fell down before her from the top of the\nsaloon.[FN#190] So she looked up and beheld the Lady Zubeideh\nbint el Casim,[FN#191] who saluted her and acquainted her with\nherself, whereupon Tuhfeh rose to her feet and said, 'O my lady,\nwere I not of the number of the upstarts, I had daily sought thy\nservice; so do not thou bereave me of thine august\nvisits.'[FN#192] The Lady Zubeideh called down blessings upon her\nand answered, 'By the life of the Commander of the Faithful, I\nknew this of thee, and but that it is not of my wont to go forth\nof my place, I had come out to do my service to thee.' Then said\nshe to her, 'Know, O Tuhfeh, that the Commander of the Faithful\nhath forsaken all his concubines and favourites on thine account,\neven to myself. Yea, me also hath he deserted on this wise, and I\nam not content to be as one of the concubines; yet hath he made\nme of them and forsaken me, and I am come to thee, so thou mayst\nbeseech him to come to me, though it be but once a month, that I\nmay not be the like of the handmaids and concubines nor be evened\nwith the slave-girls; and this is my occasion with thee.'\n'Hearkening and obedience,' answered Tuhfeh. 'By Allah, O my\nlady, I would well that he might be with thee a whole month and\nwith me but one night, so thy heart might be comforted, for that\nI am one of thy handmaids and thou art my lady in every event.'\nThe Lady Zubeideh thanked her for this and taking leave of her,\nreturned to her palace.\n\nWhen the Khalif returned from the chase, he betook himself to\nTuhfeh's pavilion and bringing out the key, opened the door and\nwent in to her. She rose to receive him and kissed his hand, and\nhe took her to his breast and seated her on his knee. Then food\nwas brought to them and they ate and washed their hands; after\nwhich she took the lute and sang, till Er Reshid was moved to\nsleep. When she was ware of this, she left singing and told him\nher adventure with the Lady Zubeideh, saying, 'O Commander of the\nFaithful, I would have thee do me a favour and heal my heart and\naccept my intercession and reject not my word, but go forthright\nto the Lady Zubeideh's lodging.' Now this talk befell after he\nhad stripped himself naked and she also had put off her clothes;\nand he said, 'Thou shouldst have named this before we stripped\nourselves naked.' But she answered, saying, ' O Commander of the\nFaithful, I did this not but in accordance with the saying of the\npoet in the following verses:\n\nAll intercessions come and all alike do ill succeed, Save\n     Tuhfeh's, daughter of Merjan, for that, in very deed,\nThe intercessor who to thee herself presenteth veiled Is not her\n     like who naked comes with thee to intercede.'\n\nWhen the Khalif heard this, her speech pleased him and he\nstrained her to his bosom. Then he went forth from her and locked\nthe door upon her, as before; whereupon she took the book and sat\nlooking in it awhile. Presently, she laid it down and taking the\nlute, tightened its strings. Then she smote thereon, after a\nwondrous fashion, such as would have moved inanimate things [to\ndelight], and fell to singing marvellous melodies and chanting\nthe following verses:\n\nRail not at the vicissitudes of Fate, For Fortune still spites\n     those who her berate.\nBe patient under its calamities, For all things have an issue\n     soon or late.\nHow many a mirth-exciting joy amid The raiment of ill chances\n     lies in wait!\nHow often, too, hath gladness come to light Whence nought but\n     dole thou didst anticipate!\n\nThen she turned and saw within the chamber an old man, comely of\nhoariness, venerable of aspect, who was dancing on apt and goodly\nwise, a dance the like whereof none might avail unto. So she\nsought refuge with God the Most High from Satan the\nStoned[FN#193] and said, 'I will not give over what I am about,\nfor that which God decreeth, He carrieth into execution.'\nAccordingly, she went on singing till the old man came up to her\nand kissed the earth before her, saying, 'Well done, O Queen of\nthe East and the West! May the world be not bereaved of thee! By\nAllah, indeed thou art perfect of qualities and ingredients, O\nTuhfet es Sudour![FN#194] Dost thou know me?' 'Nay, by Allah,'\nanswered she; 'but methinks thou art of the Jinn.' Quoth he,\n'Thou sayst sooth; I am the Sheikh Aboultawaif[FN#195] Iblis, and\nI come to thee every night, and with me thy sister Kemeriyeh, for\nthat she loveth thee and sweareth not but by thy life; and her\nlife is not pleasant to her, except she come to thee and see\nthee, what while thou seest her not. As for me, I come to thee\nupon an affair, wherein thou shall find thine advantage and\nwhereby thou shalt rise to high rank with the kings of the Jinn\nand rule them, even as thou rulest mankind; [and to that end I\nwould have thee come with me and be present at the festival of my\nson's circumcision;[FN#196]] for that the Jinn are agreed upon\nthe manifestation of thine affair.' And she answered, 'In the\nname of God.'\n\nSo she gave him the lute and he forewent her, till he came to the\nhouse of easance, and behold, therein was a door and a stairway.\nWhen Tuhfeh saw this, her reason fled; but Iblis cheered her with\ndiscourse. Then he descended the stair and she followed him to\nthe bottom thereof, where she found a passage and they fared on\ntherein, till they came to a horse standing, Teady saddled and\nbridled and accoutred. Quoth Iblis, '[Mount], in the name of God,\nO my lady Tuhfeh;' and he held the stirrup for her. So she\nmounted and the horse shook under her and putting forth wings,\nflew up with her, whilst the old man flew by her side; whereat\nshe was affrighted and clung to the pummel of the saddle; nor was\nit but an hour ere they came to a fair green meadow,\nfresh-flowered as if the soil thereof were a goodly robe,\nembroidered with all manner colours.\n\nMidmost that meadow was a palace soaring high into the air, with\nbattlements of red gold, set with pearls and jewels, and a\ntwo-leaved gate; and in the gateway thereof were much people of\nthe chiefs of the Jinn, clad in sumptuous apparel. When they saw\nthe old man, they all cried out, saying, 'The Lady Tuhfeh is\ncome!' And as soon as she reached the palace-gate, they came all\nand dismounting her from the horse's back, carried her into the\npalace and fell to kissing her hands. When she entered, she\nbeheld a palace whereof never saw eyes the like; for therein were\nfour estrades, one facing other, and its walls were of gold and\nits ceilings of silver. It was lofty of building, wide of\ncontinence, and those who beheld it would be puzzled to describe\nit. At the upper end of the hall stood a throne of red gold, set\nwith pearls and jewels, unto which led up five steps of silver,\nand on the right thereof and on its left were many chairs of gold\nand silver; and over the dais was a curtain let down, gold and\nsilver wrought and broidered with pearls and jewels.\n\nThe old man carried Tuhfeh up [to the dais and seated her] on a\nchair of gold beside the throne, whilst she was amazed at that\nwhich she saw in that place and magnified her Lord (extolled be\nHis perfection and exalted be He!) and hallowed Him. Then the\nkings of the Jinn came up to the throne and seated themselves\nthereon; and they were in the semblance of mortals, excepting two\nof them, who were in the semblance of the Jinn, with eyes slit\nendlong and jutting horns and projecting tusks. After this there\ncame up a young lady, fair of favour and pleasant of parts; the\nlight of her face outshone that of the flambeaux, and about her\nwere other three women, than whom there were no fairer on the\nface of the earth. They saluted Tuhfeh and she rose to them and\nkissed the earth before them; whereupon they embraced her and sat\ndown on the chairs aforesaid.\n\nNow the four women who thus accosted Tuhfeh were the princess\nKemeriyeh, daughter of King Es Shisban, and her sisters; and\nKemeriyeh loved Tuhfeh with an exceeding love. So, when she came\nup to her, she fell to kissing and embracing her, and Iblis said,\n'Fair befall you! Take me between you.' At this Tuhfeh laughed\nand Kemeriyeh said, 'O my sister, I love thee and doubtless\nhearts have their evidences,[FN#197] for, since I saw thee, I\nhave loved thee.' 'By Allah,' replied Tuhfeh, 'hearts have\ndeeps,[FN#198] and thou, by Allah, art dear to me and I am thy\nhandmaid.' Kemeriyeh thanked her for this and said to her, 'These\nare the wives of the kings of the Jinn: salute them. This is\nQueen Jemreh,[FN#199] that is Queen Wekhimeh and this other is\nQueen Sherareh, and they come not but for thee.' So Tuhfeh rose\nto her feet and kissed their hands, and the three queens kissed\nher and welcomed her and entreated her with the utmost honour.\n\nThen they brought trays and tables and amongst the rest a platter\nof red gold, inlaid with pearls and jewels; its margents were of\ngold and emerald, and thereon were graven the following verses:\n\nFor the uses of food I was fashioned and made; The hands of the\n     noble me wrought and inlaid.\nMy maker reserved me for generous men And the niggard and\n     sland'rer to use me forebade.\nSo eat what I offer in surety and be The Lord of all things with\n     thanks- giving repaid!\n\nSo they ate and Tuhfeh looked at the two kings, who had not\nchanged their favour and said to Kemeriyeh, 'O my lady, what is\nyonder wild beast and that other like unto him? By Allah, mine\neye brooketh not the sight of them.' Kemeriyeh laughed and\nanswered, 'O my sister, that is my father Es Shisban and the\nother is Meimoun the Sworder; and of the pride of their souls and\ntheir arrogance, they consented not to change their [natural]\nfashion. Indeed, all whom thou seest here are, by nature, like\nunto them in fashion; but, on thine account, they have changed\ntheir favour, for fear lest thou be disquieted and for the\ncomforting of thy mind, so thou mightest make friends with them\nand be at thine ease.' 'O my lady,' quoth Tuhfeh, 'indeed I\ncannot look at them. How frightful is yonder Meimoun, with his\n[one] eye! Mine eye cannot brook the sight of him, and indeed I\nam fearful of him.' Kemeriyeh laughed at her speech, and Tuhfeh\nsaid, 'By Allah, O my lady, I cannot fill my eye with\nthem!'[FN#200] Then said her father Es Shisban to her, 'What is\nthis laughing?' So she bespoke him in a tongue none understood\nbut they [two] and acquainted him with that which Tuhfeh had\nsaid; whereat he laughed a prodigious laugh, as it were the\npealing thunder.\n\nThen they ate and the tables were removed and they washed their\nhands; after which Iblis the Accursed came up to Tuhfeh and said\nto her, 'O my lady Tuhfeh, thou gladdenest the place and with thy\npresence enlightenest and embellishest it; but now fain would\nthese kings hear somewhat of thy singing, for the night hath\nspread its wings for departure and there abideth thereof but a\nlittle.' Quoth she, 'Hearkening and obedience.' So she took the\nlute and touching its strings on rare wise, played thereon after\na wondrous fashion, so that it seemed to those who were present\nas if the palace stirred with them for the music. Then she fell\na-singing and chanted the following verses:\n\nPeace on you, people of my troth! With peace I do you greet. Said\n     ye not truly, aforetime, that we should live and meet?\nAh, then will I begin on you with chiding than the breeze More\n     soft, ay pleasanter than clear cold water and more sweet.\nIndeed, mine eyelids still with tears are ulcered and to you My\n     bowels yearn to be made whole of all their pain and heat.\nParting hath sundered us, belov'd; indeed, I stood in dread Of\n     this, whilst yet our happiness in union was complete.\nTo God of all the woes I've borne I plain me, for I pine For\n     longing and lament, and Him for solace I entreat\n\nThe kings of the Jinn were moved to delight by that fair singing\nand fluent speech and praised Tuhfeh; and Queen Kemeriyeh rose to\nher and embraced her and kissed her between the eyes, saying, 'By\nAllah, it is good, O my sister and solace of mine eyes and\ndarling of my heart!' Then said she, 'I conjure thee by Allah,\ngive us more of this lovely singing.' And Tuhfeh answered with\n'Hearkening and obedience.' So she took the lute and playing\nthereon after a different fashion from the former one, sang the\nfollowing verses:\n\nOft as my yearning waxeth, my heart consoleth me With hopes of\n     thine enjoyment in all security.\nSure God shall yet, in pity, reknit our severed lives, Even as He\n     did afflict me with loneness after thee.\nThou whose desire possesseth my soul, the love of whom Hold on my\n     reins hath gotten and will not let me free,\nCompared with thine enjoyment, the hardest things are light To\n     win and all things distant draw near and easy be.\nGod to a tristful lover be light! A man of wit, Yet perishing for\n     yearning and body-worn is he.\nWere I cut off, beloved, from hope of thy return, Slumber,\n     indeed, for ever my wakeful lids would flee.\nFor nought of worldly fortune I weep! my only joy In seeing thee\n     consisteth and in thy seeing me.\n\nAt this the accursed Iblis was moved to delight and put his\nfinger to his arse, whilst Meimoun danced and said, 'O Tuhfet es\nSudour, soften the mode;[FN#201] for, as delight, entereth into\nmy heart, it bewildereth my vital spirits.' So she took the lute\nand changing the mode, played a third air; then she returned to\nthe first and sang the following verses:\n\nThe billows of thy love o'erwhelm me passing sore; I sink and all\n     in vain for succour I implore.\nYe've drowned me in the sea of love for you; my heart Denies to\n     be consoled for those whom I adore.\nThink not that I forget our trothplight after you. Nay; God to me\n     decreed remembrance heretofore.[FN#202]\nLove to its victim clings without relent, and he Of torments and\n     unease complaineth evermore.\n\nThe kings and all those who were present rejoiced in this with an\nexceeding delight and the accursed Iblis came up to Tuhfeh and\nkissing her hand, said to her, 'There abideth but little of the\nnight; so do thou tarry with us till the morrow, when we will\napply ourselves to the wedding[FN#203] and the circumcision.'\nThen all the Jinn went away, whereupon Tuhfeh rose to her feet\nand Iblis said, 'Go ye up with Tuhfeh to the garden for the rest\nof the night.' So Kemeriyeh took her and carried her into the\ngarden. Now this garden contained all manner birds, nightingale\nand mocking-bird and ringdove and curlew[FN#204] and other than\nthese of all the kinds, and therein were all kinds of fruits. Its\nchannels[FN#205] were of gold and silver and the water thereof,\nas it broke forth of its conduits, was like unto fleeing\nserpents' bellies, and indeed it was as it were the Garden of\nEden.[FN#206]\n\nWhen Tuhfeh beheld this, she called to mind her lord and wept\nsore and said, 'I beseech God the Most High to vouchsafe me\nspeedy deliverance, so I may return to my palace and that my high\nestate and queendom and glory and be reunited with my lord and\nmaster Er Reshid.' Then she walked in that garden and saw in its\nmidst a dome of white marble, raised on columns of black teak and\nhung with curtains embroidered with pearls and jewels.\nAmiddleward this pavilion was a fountain, inlaid with all manner\njacinths, and thereon a statue of gold, and [beside it] a little\ndoor. She opened the door and found herself in a long passage; so\nshe followed it and behold, a bath lined with all kinds of\nprecious marbles and floored with a mosaic of pearls and jewels.\nTherein were four cisterns of alabaster, one facing other, and\nthe ceiling of the bath was of glass coloured with all manner\ncolours, such as confounded the understanding of the folk of\nunderstanding and amazed the wit.\n\nTuhfeh entered the bath, after she had put off her clothes, and\nbehold, the basin thereof was overlaid with gold set with pearls\nand red rubies and green emeralds and other jewels; so she\nextolled the perfection of God the Most High and hallowed Him for\nthe magnificence of that which she saw of the attributes of that\nbath. Then she made her ablutions in that basin and pronouncing\nthe Magnification of Prohibition,[FN#207] prayed the morning\nprayer and what else had escaped her of prayers;[FN#208] after\nwhich she went out and walked in that garden among jessamine and\nlavender and roses and camomile and gillyflowers and thyme and\nviolets and sweet basil, till she came to the door of the\npavilion aforesaid and sat down therein, pondering that which\nshould betide Er Reshid after her, whenas he should come to her\npavilion and find her not. She abode sunken in the sea of her\nsolicitude, till presently sleep took her and she slept\n\nPresently she felt a breath upon her face; whereupon she awoke\nand found Queen Kemeriyeh kissing her, and with her her three\nsisters, Queen Jemreh, Queen Wekhimeh and Queen Sherareh. So she\narose and kissed their hands and rejoiced in them with the utmost\njoy and they abode, she and they, in talk and converse, what\nwhile she related to them her history, from the time of her\npurchase by the Mughrebi to that of her coming to the\nslave-dealers' barrack, where she besought Ishac en Nedim to buy\nher, and how she won to Er Reshid, till the moment when Iblis\ncame to her and brought her to them. They gave not over talking\ntill the sun declined and turned pale and the season of sundown\ndrew near and the day departed, whereupon Tuhfeh was instant in\nsupplication to God the Most High, on the occasion of the prayer\nof sundown, that He would reunite her with her lord Er Reshid.\n\nAfter this, she abode with the four queens, till they arose and\nentered the palace, where she found the candles lit and ranged in\ncandlesticks of gold and silver and censing-vessels of gold and\nsilver, filled with aloes-wood and ambergris, and there were the\nkings of the Jinn sitting. So she saluted them, kissing the earth\nbefore them and doing them worship; and they rejoiced in her and\nin her sight. Then she ascended [the estrade] and sat down upon\nher chair, whilst King Es Shisban and King El Muzfir and Queen\nLouloueh and [other] the kings of the Jinn sat on chairs, and\nthey brought tables of choice, spread with all manner meats\nbefitting kings. They ate their fill; after which the tables were\nremoved and they washed their hands and wiped them with napkins.\nThen they brought the wine-service and set on bowls and cups and\nflagons and hanaps of gold and silver and beakers of crystal and\ngold; and they poured out the wines and filled the flagons.\n\nThen Iblis took the cup and signed to Tuhfeh to sing; and she\nsaid, 'Hearkening and obedience.' So she took the lute and tuning\nit, sang the following verses:\n\nDrink ever, O lovers, I rede you, of wine And praise his desert\n     who for yearning doth pine,\nWhere lavender, myrtle, narcissus entwine, With all sweet-scented\n     herbs, round the juice of the vine.\n\nSo Iblis the Accursed drank and said, 'Well done, O desire of\nhearts! but thou owest me yet another song.' Then he filled the\ncup and signed to her to sing. Quoth she, 'Hearkening and\nobedience,' and sang the following verses:\n\nYe know I'm passion-maddened, racked with love and languishment,\n     Yet ye torment me, for to you 'tis pleasing to torment.\nBetween mine eyes and wake ye have your dwelling-place, and thus\n     My tears flow on unceasingly, my sighs know no relent.\nHow long shall I for justice sue to you, whilst, with desire For\n     aid, ye war on me and still on slaying me are bent!\nTo me your rigour love-delight, your distance nearness is; Ay,\n     your injustice equity, and eke your wrath consent.\nAccuse me falsely, cruelly entreat me; still ye are My heart's\n     beloved, at whose hands no rigour I resent.\n\nAll who were present were delighted and the sitting-chamber shook\nwith mirth, and Iblis said, 'Well done, O Tuhfet es Sudour!' Then\nthey gave not over wine-bibbing and rejoicing and making merry\nand tambourining and piping till the night waned and the dawn\ndrew near; and indeed exceeding delight entered into them. The\nmost of them in mirth was the Sheikh Iblis, and for the excess of\nthat which betided him of delight, he put off all that was upon\nhim of coloured clothes and cast them over Tuhfeh, and among the\nrest a robe broidered with jewels and jacinths, worth ten\nthousand dinars. Then he kissed the earth and danced and put his\nfinger to his arse and taking his beard in his hand, said to her,\n'Sing about this beard and endeavour after mirth and pleasance,\nand no blame shall betide thee for this.' So she improvised and\nsang the following verses:\n\nBeard of the old he-goat, the one-eyed, what shall be My saying\n     of a knave, his fashion and degree?\nI rede thee vaunt thee not of praise from us, for lo! Even as a\n     docktailed cur thou art esteemed of me.\nBy Allah, without fail, to-morrow thou shalt see Me with\n     ox-leather dress and drub the nape of thee!\n\nAll those who were present laughed at her mockery of Iblis and\nmarvelled at the goodliness of her observation[FN#209] and her\nreadiness in improvising verses; whilst the Sheikh himself\nrejoiced and said to her, 'O Tuhfet es Sudour, the night is gone;\nso arise and rest thyself ere the day; and to-morrow all shall be\nwell.' Then all the kings of the Jinn departed, together with\nthose who were present of guards, and Tuhfeh abode alone,\npondering the affair of Er Reshid and bethinking her of how it\nwas with him, after her, and of that which had betided him for\nher loss, till the dawn gleamed, when she arose and walked in the\npalace. Presently she saw a handsome door; so she opened it and\nfound herself in a garden goodlier than the first, never saw eyes\na fairer than it. When she beheld this garden, delight moved her\nand she called to mind her lord Er Reshid and wept sore, saying,\n'I crave of the bounty of God the Most High that my return to him\nand to my palace and my home may be near at hand!'\n\nThen she walked in the garden till she came to a pavilion, lofty\nof building and wide of continence, never saw mortal nor heard of\na goodlier than it [So she entered] and found herself in a long\ncorridor, which led to a bath goodlier than that whereof it hath\nbeen spoken, and the cisterns thereof were full of rose-water\nmingled with musk. Quoth Tuhfeh, 'Extolled be the perfection of\nGod! Indeed, this[FN#210] is none other than a mighty king.' Then\nshe put off her clothes and washed her body and made her\nablution, after the fullest fashion,[FN#211] and prayed that\nwhich was due from her of prayer from the evening [of the\nprevious day].[FN#212] When the sun rose upon the gate of the\ngarden and she saw the wonders thereof, with that which was\ntherein of all manner flowers and streams, and heard the voices\nof its birds, she marvelled at what she saw of the surpassing\ngoodliness of its ordinance and the beauty of its disposition and\nsat meditating the affair of Er Reshid and pondering what was\ncome of him after her. Her tears ran down upon her cheek and the\nzephyr blew on her; so she slept and knew no more till she felt a\nbreath on her cheek, whereupon she awoke in affright and found\nQueen Kemeriyeh kissing her face, and with her her sisters, who\nsaid to her, 'Arise, for the sun hath set.'\n\nSo she arose and making the ablution, prayed that which behoved\nher of prayers[FN#213] and accompanied the four queens to the\npalace, where she saw the candles lighted and the kings sitting.\nShe saluted them and seated herself upon her couch; and behold,\nKing Es Shisban had changed his favour, for all the pride of his\nsoul. Then came up Iblis (whom God curse!) and Tuhfeh rose to him\nand kissed his hands. He in turn kissed her hand and called down\nblessings on her and said, 'How deemest thou? Is [not] this place\npleasant, for all its loneliness and desolation?' Quoth she,\n'None may be desolate in this place;' and he said, 'Know that no\nmortal dare tread [the soil of] this place.' But she answered, 'I\nhave dared and trodden it, and this is of the number of thy\nfavours.' Then they brought tables and meats and viands and\nfruits and sweetmeats and what not else, to the description\nwhereof mortal man availeth not, and they ate till they had\nenough; after which the tables were removed and the trays and\nplatters[FN#214] set on, and they ranged the bottles and flagons\nand vessels and phials, together with all manner fruits and\nsweet-scented flowers.\n\nThe first to take the cup was Iblis the Accursed, who said, 'O\nTuhfet es Sudour, sing over my cup.' So she took the lute and\ntouching it, sang the following verses:\n\nAwaken, O ye sleepers all, and profit, whilst it's here By what's\n     vouchsafed of fortune fair and life untroubled, clear.\nDrink of the first-run wine, that shows as very flame it were,\n     When from the pitcher 'tis outpoured, or ere the day appear.\nO skinker of the vine-juice, let the cup 'twixt us go round, For\n     in its drinking is my hope and all I hold most dear.\nWhat is the pleasance of the world, except it be to see My lady's\n     face, to drink of wine and ditties still to hear?\n\nSo Iblis drank off his cup, and when he had made an end of his\ndraught, he waved his hand to Tuhfeh, and putting off that which\nwas upon him of clothes, delivered them to her. Amongst them was\na suit worth ten thousand dinars and a tray full of jewels worth\na great sum of money. Then he filled again and gave the cup to\nhis son Es Shisban, who took it from his hand and kissing it,\nstood up and sat down again. Now there was before him a tray of\nroses; so he said to her 'O Tuhfeh sing upon these roses.'\nHearkening and obedience,' answered she and sang the following\nverses:\n\nO'er all the fragrant flowers that be I have the prefrence aye,\n     For that I come but once a year, and but a little stay.\nAnd high is my repute, for that I wounded aforetime My\n     lord,[FN#215] whom God made best of all the treaders of the\n     clay.\n\nSo Es Shisban drank off the cup in his turn and said, 'Well done,\nO desire of hearts!' And he bestowed on her that which was upon\nhim, to wit, a dress of cloth-of-pearl, fringed with great pearls\nand rubies and broidered with precious stones, and a tray wherein\nwere fifty thousand dinars. Then Meimoun the Sworder took the cup\nand fell to gazing intently upon Tuhfeh. Now there was in his\nhand a pomegranate-flower and he said to her, 'Sing upon this\npomegranate-flower, O queen of men and Jinn; for indeed thou hast\ndominion over all hearts.' Quoth she, 'Hearkening and obedience;'\nand she improvised and sang the following verses:\n\nThe zephyr's sweetness on the coppice blew, And as with falling\n     fire 'twas clad anew;\nAnd to the birds' descant in the foredawns, From out the boughs\n     it flowered forth and grew,\nTill in a robe of sandal green 'twas clad And veil that blended\n     rose and flame[FN#216] in hue.\n\nMeinsoun drank off his cup and said to her, 'Well done, O perfect\nof attributes!' Then he signed to her and was absent awhile,\nafter which he returned and with him a tray of jewels worth an\nhundred thousand dinars, [which he gave to Tuhfeh]. So Kemeriyeh\narose and bade her slave-girl open the closet behind her, wherein\nshe laid all that wealth. Then she delivered the key to Tuhfeh,\nsaying, 'All that cometh to thee of riches, lay thou in this\ncloset that is by thy side, and after the festival, it shall be\ncarried to thy palace on the heads of the Jinn.' Tuhfeh kissed\nher hand, and another king, by name Munir, took the cup and\nfilling it, said to her, 'O fair one, sing to me over my cup upon\nthe jasmine.' 'Hearkening and obedience,' answered she and\nimprovised the following verses:\n\nIt is as the jasmine, when it I espy, As it glitters and gleams\n     midst its boughs, were a sky\nOf beryl, all glowing with beauty, wherein Thick stars of pure\n     silver shine forth to the eye.\n\nMunir drank off his cup and ordered her eight hundred thousand\ndinars, whereat Kemeriyeh rejoiced and rising to her feet, kissed\nTuhfeh on her face and said to her, 'May the world not be\nbereaved of thee, O thou who lordest it over the hearts of Jinn\nand mortals!' Then she returned to her place and the Sheikh Iblis\narose and danced, till all present were confounded; after which\nhe said to Tuhfeh, 'Indeed, thou embellishest my festival, O thou\nwho hast commandment over men and Jinn and rejoicest their hearts\nwith thy loveliness and the excellence of thy faithfulness to thy\nlord. All that thy hands possess shall be borne to thee [in thy\npalace and placed] at thy service; but now the dawn is near at\nhand; so do thou rise and rest thee, as of thy wont' Tuhfeh\nturned and found with her none of the Jinn; so she laid her head\non the ground and slept till she had gotten her rest; after which\nshe arose and betaking herself to the pool, made the ablution and\nprayed. Then she sat beside the pool awhile and pondered the\naffair of her lord Er Reshid and that which had betided him after\nher and wept sore.\n\nPresently, she heard a blowing behind her; so she turned and\nbehold, a head without a body and with eyes slit endlong; it was\nof the bigness of an elephant's head and bigger and had a mouth\nas it were an oven and projecting tusks, as they were grapnels,\nand hair that trailed upon the earth. So Tuhfeh said, 'I take\nrefuge with God from Satan the Stoned!' and recited the Two\nAmulets;[FN#217] what while the head drew near her and said to\nher, 'Peace be upon thee, O princess of Jinn and men and unique\npearl of her age and her time! May God still continue thee on\nlife, for all the lapsing of the days, and reunite thee with thy\nlord the Imam!'[FN#218] 'And upon thee be peace,' answered she,\n'O thou whose like I have not seen among the Jinn!' Quoth the\nhead, 'We are a people who avail not to change their favours and\nwe are called ghouls. The folk summon us to their presence, but\nwe may not present ourselves before them [without leave]. As for\nme, I have gotten leave of the Sheikh Aboultawaif to present\nmyself before thee and I desire of thy favour that thou sing me a\nsong, so I may go to thy palace and question its haunters[FN#219]\nconcerning the plight of thy lord after thee and return to thee;\nand know, O Tuhfet es Sudour, that between thee and thy lord is a\ndistance of fifty years' journey to the diligent traveller.'\n'Indeed,' rejoined Tuhfeh, 'thou grievest me [for him] between\nwhom and me is fifty years' journey. And the head said to her,\n'Be of good heart and cheerful eye, for the kings of the Jinn\nwill restore thee to him in less than the twinkling of an eye.'\nQuoth she,' I will sing thee an hundred songs, so thou wilt bring\nme news of my lord and that which hath befallen him after me.'\nAnd the head answered, saying, 'Do thou favour me and sing me a\nsong, so I may go to thy lord and bring thee news of him, for\nthat I desire, before I go, to hear thy voice, so haply my\nthirst[FN#220] may be quenched.' So she took the lute and tuning\nit, sang the following verses:\n\nThey have departed; but the steads yet full of them remain: Yea,\n     they have left me, but my heart of them doth not complain.\nMy heart bereavement of my friends forebode; may God of them The\n     dwellings not bereave, but send them timely home again!\nThough they their journey's goal, alas I have hidden, in their\n     track Still will I follow on until the very planets wane.\nYe sleep; by Allah, sleep comes not to ease my weary lids; But\n     from mine eyes, since ye have passed away, the blood doth\n     rain.\nThe railers for your loss pretend that I should patient be:\n     'Away!' I answer them: ' 'tis I, not you, that feel the\n     pain.'\nWhat had it irked them, had they'd ta'en farewell of him they've\n     left Lone, whilst estrangement's fires within his entrails\n     rage amain?\nGreat in delight, beloved mine, your presence is with me; Yet\n     greater still the miseries of parting and its bane.\nYe are the pleasaunce of my soul; or present though you be Or\n     absent from me, still my heart and thought with you remain.\n\nThe head wept exceeding sore and said, 'O my lady, indeed thou\nhast solaced my heart, and I have nought but my life; so take\nit.' Quoth she, 'An I but knew that thou wouldst bring me news of\nmy lord Er Reshid, it were liefer to me than the empery of the\nworld.' And the head answered her, saying, 'It shall be done as\nthou desirest.' Then it disappeared and returning to her at the\nlast of the night, said, 'Know, O my lady, that I have been to\nthy palace and have questioned one of the haunters thereof of the\ncase of the Commander of the Faithful and that which befell him\nafter thee; and he said, \"When the Commander of the Faithful came\nto Tuhfeh's lodging and found her not and saw no sign of her, he\nbuffeted his face and head and rent his clothes. Now there was in\nthy lodging the eunuch, the chief of thy household, and he cried\nout at him, saying, 'Bring me Jaafer the Barmecide and his father\nand brother forthright.' The eunuch went out, confounded in his\nwit for fear of the Commander of the Faithful, and whenas he came\nto Jaafer, he said to him, 'Come to the Commander of the\nFaithful, thou and thy father and brother.' So they arose in\nhaste and betaking themselves to the Khalif's presence, said to\nhim, 'O Commander of the Faithful, what is to do?' Quoth he,\n'There is that to do which overpasseth description. Know that I\nlocked the door and taking the key with me, betook myself to the\ndaughter of mine uncle, with whom I lay the night; but, when I\narose in the morning and came and opened the door, I found no\nsign of Tuhfeh.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' rejoined Jaafer,\n'have patience, for that the damsel hath been snatched away, and\nneeds must she return, seeing she took the lute with her, and it\nis her [own] lute. The Jinn have assuredly carried her off and we\ntrust in God the Most High that she will return.' Quoth the\nKhalif, ' This[FN#221] is a thing that may nowise be' And he\nabode in her lodging, eating not neither drinking, what while the\nBarmecides besought him to go forth to the folk; and he weepeth\nand abideth on this wise till she shall return.\" This, then, is\nthat which hath betided him after thee.'\n\nWhen Tuhfeh heard this, it was grievous to her and she wept sore;\nwhereupon quoth the head to her, 'The relief of God the Most High\nis near at hand; but now let me hear somewhat of thy speech.' So\nshe took the lute and sang three songs, weeping the while. 'By\nAllah,' said the head, 'thou hast been bountiful to me, may God\nbe with thee!' Then it disappeared and the season of sundown\ncame. So she arose [and betook herself] to her place [in the\nhall]; whereupon the candles rose up from under the earth and\nkindled themselves. Then the kings of the Jinn appeared and\nsaluted her and kissed her hands and she saluted them. Presently,\nup came Kemeriyeh and her three sisters and saluted Tuhfeh and\nsat down; whereupon the tables were brought and they ate. Then\nthe tables were removed and there came the wine-tray and the\ndrinking-service. So Tuhfeh took the lute and one of the three\nqueens filled the cup and signed to Tuhfeh [to sing]. Now she had\nin her hand a violet; so Tuhfeh sang the following verses:\n\nBehold, I am clad in a robe of leaves green And a garment of\n     honour of ultramarine.\nThough little, with beauty myself I've adorned; So the flowers\n     are my subjects and I am their queen.\nIf the rose be entitled the pride of the morn, Before me nor\n     after she wins it, I ween.\n\nThe queen drank off her cup and bestowed on Tuhfeh a dress of\ncloth-of-pearl, fringed with red rubies, worth twenty thousand\ndinars, and a tray wherein were ten thousand dinars.\n\nAll this while Meimoun's eye was upon her and presently he said\nto her, 'Harkye, Tuhfeh! Sing to me.' But Queen Zelzeleh cried\nout at him and said, 'Desist, O Meimoun. Thou sufferest not\nTuhfeh to pay heed unto us.' Quoth he, 'I will have her sing to\nme.' And words waxed between them and Queen Zelzeleh cried out at\nhim. Then she shook and became like unto the Jinn and taking in\nher hand a mace of stone, said to him, 'Out on thee! What art\nthou that thou shouldst bespeak us thus? By Allah, but for the\nking's worship and my fear of troubling the session and the\nfestival and the mind of the Sheikh Iblis, I would assuredly beat\nthe folly out of thy head!' When Meimoun heard these her words,\nhe rose, with the fire issuing from his eyes, and said, 'O\ndaughter of Imlac, what art thou that thou shouldst outrage me\nwith the like of this talk?' 'Out on thee, O dog of the Jinn,'\nreplied she, 'knowest thou not thy place?' So saying, she ran at\nhim and offered to strike him with the mace, but the Sheikh Iblis\narose and casting his turban on the ground, said, 'Out on thee, O\nMeimoun! Thou still dost with us on this wise. Wheresoever thou\nart present, thou troubleth our life! Canst thou not hold thy\npeace till thou goest forth of the festival and this\nbride-feast[FN#222] be accomplished? When the circumcision is at\nan end and ye all return to your dwelling-places, then do as thou\nwilt. Out on thee, O Meimoun! Knowest thou not that Imlac is of\nthe chiefs of the Jinn? But for my worship, thou shouldst have\nseen what would have betided thee of humiliation and punishment;\nbut by reason of the festival none may speak. Indeed thou\nexceedest: knowest thou not that her sister Wekhimeh is doughtier\nthan any of the Jinn? Learn to know thyself: hast thou no regard\nfor thy life?'\n\nMeimoun was silent and Iblis turned to Tuhfeh and said to her,\n'Sing to the kings of the Jinn this day and to-night until the\nmorrow, when the boy will be circumcised and each shall return to\nhis own place.' So she took the lute and Kemeriyeh said to her,\n(now she had in her hand a cedrat), 'O my sister, sing to me on\nthis cedrat.' 'Hearkening and obedience,' replied Tuhfeh, and\nimprovising, sang the following verses:\n\nMy fruit is a jewel all wroughten of gold, Whose beauty amazeth\n     all those that behold.\nMy juice among kings is still drunken for wine And a present am I\n     betwixt friends, young and old.\n\nAt this Queen Kemeriyeh was moved to exceeding delight and drank\noff her cup, saying, 'Well done, O queen of hearts!' Moreover,\nshe took off a surcoat of blue brocade, fringed with red rubies,\nand a necklace of white jewels, worth an hundred thousand dinars,\nand gave them to Tuhfeh. Then she passed the cup to her sister\nZelzeleh, who had in her hand sweet basil, and she said to\nTuhfeh, 'Sing to me on this sweet basil.' 'Hearkening and\nobedience,' answered she and improvised and sang the following\nverses:\n\nThe crown of the flow'rets am I, in the chamber of wine, And\nAllah makes mention of me 'mongst the pleasures divine; Yea, ease\nand sweet basil and peace, the righteous are told, In Eternity's\nGarden of sweets shall to bless them combine.[FN#223] Where,\nthen, is the worth that in aught with my worth can compare And\nwhere is the rank in men's eyes can be likened to mine?\n\nThereat Queen Zelzeleh was moved to exceeding delight and bidding\nher treasuress bring a basket, wherein were fifty pairs of\nbracelets and the like number of earrings, all of gold, set with\njewels of price, the like whereof nor men nor Jinn possessed, and\nan hundred robes of coloured brocade and an hundred thousand\ndinars, gave the whole to Tuhfeh. Then she passed the cup to her\nsister Sherareh, who had in her hand a stalk of narcissus; so she\ntook it from her and turning to Tuhfeh, said to her, 'O Tuhfeh,\nsing to me on this.' 'Hearkening and obedience,' answered she and\nimprovised and sang the following verses:\n\nMost like a wand of emerald my shape it is, trow I; Amongst the\n     fragrant flow'rets there's none with me can vie.\nThe eyes of lovely women are likened unto me; Indeed, amongst the\n     gardens I open many an eye.\n\nWhen she had made an end of her song, Sherareh was moved to\nexceeding delight and drinking off her cup, said to her, 'Well\ndone, O gift of hearts!' Then she ordered her an hundred dresses\nof brocade and an hundred thousand dinars and passed the cup to\nQueen Wekhimeh. Now she had in her hand somewhat of blood-red\nanemone; so she took the cup from her sister and turning to\nTuhfeh, said to her, 'O Tuhfeh, sing to me on this.' Quoth she,\n'I hear and obey,' and improvised the following verses:\n\nThe Merciful dyed me with that which I wear Of hues with whose\n     goodliness none may compare.\nThe earth is my birth-place, indeed; but my place Of abidance is\n     still in the cheeks of the fair.\n\nTherewith Wekhimeh was moved to exceeding delight and drinking\noff the cup, ordered her twenty dresses of Greek brocade and a\ntray, wherein were thirty thousand dinars. Then she gave the cup\nto Queen Shuaaeh, Queen of the Fourth Sea, who took it and said,\n'O my lady Tuhfeh, sing to me on the gillyflower.' Quoth she\n'Hearkening and obedience,' and improvised the following verses:\n\nThe season of my presence is never at an end 'Mongst all their\n     time in gladness and solacement who spend,\nWhenas the folk assemble for birling at the wine, Whether in\n     morning's splendour or when night's shades descend.\nThe pitcher then of goblets filled full and brimming o'er With\n     limpid wine we plunder, that pass from friend to friend.\n\nQueen Shuaaeh was moved to exceeding delight and emptying her\ncup, gave Tuhfeh an hundred thousand dinars. Then arose Iblis\n(may God curse him!) and said, 'Verily, the dawn gleameth.'\nWhereupon the folk arose and disappeared, all of them, and there\nabode not one of them save Tuhfeh, who went forth to the garden\nand entering the bath, made her ablutions and prayed that which\nhad escaped her of prayers. Then she sat down and when the sun\nrose, behold, there came up to her near an hundred thousand green\nbirds; the branches of the trees were filled with their\nmultitudes and they warbled in various voices, whilst Tuhfeh\nmarvelled at their fashion. Presently, up came eunuchs, bearing a\nthrone of gold, set with pearls and jewels and jacinths white and\nred and having four steps of gold, together with many carpets of\nsilk and brocade and Egyptian cloth of silk welted with gold.\nThese latter they spread amiddleward the garden and setting up\nthe throne thereon, perfumed the place with virgin musk and aloes\nand ambergris.\n\nAfter that, there appeared a queen, never saw eyes a goodlier\nthan she nor than her attributes; she was clad in rich raiment,\nembroidered with pearls and jewels, and on her head was a crown\nset with various kinds of pearls and jewels. About her were five\nhundred slave-girls, high-bosomed maids, as they were moons,\nscreening her, right and left, and she among them as she were the\nmoon on the night of its full, for that she was the most of them\nin majesty and dignity. She gave not over walking, till she came\nto Tuhfeh, whom she found gazing on her in amazement; and when\nthe latter saw her turn to her, she rose to her, standing on her\nfeet, and saluted her and kissed the earth before her.\n\nThe queen rejoiced in her and putting out her hand to her, drew\nher to herself and seated her by her side on the couch; whereupon\nTuhfeh kissed her hands and the queen said to her, 'Know, O\nTuhfeh, that all that thou treadest of these belong not to any of\nthe Jinn,[FN#224] for that I am the queen of them all and the\nSheikh Aboultawaif Iblis sought my permission[FN#225] and prayed\nme to be present at the circumcision of his son. So I sent to\nhim, in my stead, a slave-girl of my slave-girls, to wit,\nShuaaeh, Queen of the Fourth Sea, who is vice-queen of my\nkingdom. When she was present at the wedding and saw thee and\nheard thy singing, she sent to me, giving me to know of thee and\nsetting forth to me thine elegance and pleasantness and the\ngoodliness of thy breeding and thy singing. So I am come to thee,\nfor that which I have heard of thy charms, and this shall bring\nthee great worship in the eyes of all the Jinn.'[FN#226]\n\nTuhfeh arose and kissed the earth and the queen thanked her for\nthis and bade her sit. So she sat down and the queen called for\nfood; whereupon they brought a table of gold, inlaid with pearls\nand jacinths and jewels and spread with various kinds of birds\nand meats of divers hues, and the queen said, 'O Tuhfeh, in the\nname of God, let us eat bread and salt together, thou and I.' So\nTuhfeh came forward and ate of those meats and tasted somewhat\nthe like whereof she had never eaten, no, nor aught more\ndelicious than it, what while the slave-girls stood compassing\nabout the table and she sat conversing and laughing with the\nqueen. Then said the latter, 'O my sister, a slave-girl told me\nof thee that thou saidst, \"How loathly is yonder genie Meimoun!\nThere is no eating [in his presence].\"'[FN#227] 'By Allah, O my\nlady,' answered Tuhfeh, 'I cannot brook the sight of him,[FN#228]\nand indeed I am fearful of him.' When the queen heard this, she\nlaughed, till she fell backward, and said, 'O my sister, by the\nvirtue of the inscription upon the seal-ring of Solomon, prophet\nof God, I am queen over all the Jinn, and none dare so much as\nlook on thee a glance of the eye.' And Tuhfeh kissed her hand.\nThen the tables were removed and they sat talking.\n\nPresently up came the kings of the Jinn from every side and\nkissed the earth before the queen and stood in her service; and\nshe thanked them for this, but stirred not for one of them. Then\ncame the Sheikh Aboultawaif Iblis (God curse him!) and kissed the\nearth before her, saying, 'O my lady, may I not be bereft of\nthese steps!'[FN#229] O Sheikh Aboultawalf,' answered she, 'it\nbehoveth thee to thank the bounty of the Lady Tuhfeh, who was the\ncause of my coming.' 'True,' answered he and kissed the earth.\nThen the queen fared on [towards the palace] and there [arose\nand] alighted upon the trees an hundred thousand birds of various\ncolours. Quoth Tuhfeh, 'How many are these birds!' And Queen\nWekhimeh said to her, 'Know, O my sister, that this queen is\ncalled Queen Es Shuhba and that she is queen over all the Jinn\nfrom East to West. These birds that thou seest are of her troops,\nand except they came in this shape, the earth would not contain\nthem. Indeed, they came forth with her and are present with her\npresence at this circumcision. She will give thee after the\nmeasure of that which hath betided thee[FN#230] from the first of\nthe festival to the last thereof; and indeed she honoureth us all\nwith her presence.'\n\nThen the queen entered the palace and sat down on the throne of\nthe circumcision[FN#231] at the upper end of the hall, whereupon\nTuhfeh took the lute and pressing it to her bosom, touched its\nstrings on such wise that the wits of all present were bewildered\nand the Sheikh Iblis said to her, 'O my lady Tuhfeh, I conjure\nthee, by the life of this worshipful queen, sing for me and\npraise thyself, and gainsay me not.' Quoth she, 'Hearkening and\nobedience; yet, but for the adjuration by which thou conjurest\nme, I had not done this. Doth any praise himself? What manner of\nthing is this?' Then she improvised and sang the following\nverses:\n\nIn every rejoicing a boon[FN#232] midst the singers and minstrels\n     am I;\nThe folk witness bear of my worth and none can my virtues deny.\nMy virtues 'mongst men are extolled and my glory and station rank\n     high.\n\nHer verses pleased the kings of the Jinn and they said, 'By\nAllah, thou sayst sooth!' Then she rose to her feet, with the\nlute in her hand, and played and sang, whilst the Jinn and the\nSheikh Aboultawaif danced. Then the latter came up to her and\ngave her a carbuncle he had taken from the hidden treasure of\nJaphet, son of Noah (on whom be peace), and which was worth the\nkingdom of the world; its light was as the light of the sun and\nhe said to her, 'Take this and glorify thyself withal\nover[FN#233] the people of the world.' She kissed his hand and\nrejoiced in the jewel and said, 'By Allah, this beseemeth none\nbut the Commander of the Faithful.'\n\nNow the dancing of Iblis pleased Queen Es Shuhba and she said to\nhim, 'By Allah, this is a goodly dancing!' He thanked her for\nthis and said to Tuhfeh, 'O Tuhfeh, there is not on the face of\nthe earth a skilfuller than Ishac en Nedim; but thou art more\nskilful than he. Indeed, I have been present with him many a time\nand have shown him passages[FN#234] on the lute, and there have\nbetided me such and such things with him.[FN#235] Indeed, the\nstory of my dealings with him is a long one and this is no time\nto repeat it; but now I would fain show thee a passage on the\nlute, whereby thou shall be exalted over all the folk.' Quoth she\nto him, 'Do what seemeth good to thee.' So he took the lute and\nplayed thereon on wondrous wise, with rare divisions and\nextraordinary modulations, and showed her a passage she knew not;\nand this was liefer to her than all that she had gotten. Then she\ntook the lute from him and playing thereon, [sang and] presently\nreturned to the passage that he had shown her; and he said, 'By\nAllah, thou singest better than I!' As for Tuhfeh, it was made\nmanifest to her that her former usance[FN#236] was all of it\nwrong and that what she had learnt from the Sheikh Aboultawaif\nIblis was the origin and foundation [of all perfection] in the\nart. So she rejoiced in that which she had gotten of [new skill\nin] touching the lute far more than in all that had fallen to her\nlot of wealth and raiment and kissed the Sheikh's hand.\n\nThen said Queen Es Shuhba, 'By Allah, O Sheikh, my sister Tuhfeh\nis indeed unique among the folk of her time, and I hear that she\nsingeth upon all sweet- scented flowers.' 'Yes, O my lady,'\nanswered Iblis, 'and I am in the utterest of wonderment thereat.\nBut there remaineth somewhat of sweet-scented flowers, that she\nhath not besung, such as the myrtle and the tuberose and the\njessamine and the moss-rose and the like.' Then he signed to her\nto sing upon the rest of the flowers, that Queen Es Shuhba might\nhear, and she said, 'Hearkening and obedience.' So she took the\nlute and played thereon in many modes, then returned to the first\nmode and sang the following verses:\n\nOne of the host am I of lovers sad and sere For waiting long\n     drawn out and expectation drear.\nMy patience underneath the loss of friends and folk With pallor's\n     sorry garb hath clad me, comrades dear.\nAbasement, misery and heart-break after those I suffer who\n     endured before me many a year.\nAll through the day its light and when the night grows dark, My\n     grief forsakes me not, no, nor my heavy cheer.\nMy tears flow still, nor aye of bitterness I'm quit, Bewildered\n     as I am betwixten hope and fear.\n\nTherewithal Queen Es Shuhba was moved to exceeding delight and\nsaid, 'Well done, O queen of delight! None can avail to describe\nthee. Sing to us on the apple,' Quoth Tuhfeh, 'Hearkening and\nobedience.' Then she improvised and sang the following verses:\n\nEndowed with amorous grace past any else am I; Graceful of shape\n     and lithe and pleasing to the eye.\nThe hands of noble folk do tend me publicly; With waters clear\n     and sweet my thirsting tongue they ply.\nMy clothes of sendal are, my veil of the sun's light, The very\n     handiwork of God the Lord Most High.\nWhenas my sisters dear forsake me, grieved that they Must leave\n     their native place and far away must hie,\nThe nobles' hands, for that my place I must forsake, Do solace me\n     with beds, whereon at ease I lie.\nLo! in the garden-ways, the place of ease and cheer, Still, like\n     the moon at full, my light thou mayst espy.\n\nQueen Es Shubha rejoiced in this with an exceeding delight and\nsaid, 'Well done! By Allah, there is none surpasseth thee.'\nTuhfeh kissed the earth, then returned to her place and\nimprovised on the tuberose, saying:\n\nMy flower a marvel on your heads doth show, Yet homeless[FN#237]\n     am I in your land, I trow.\nMake drink your usance in my company And flout the time that\n     languishing doth go.\nCamphor itself to me doth testify And in my presence owns me\n     white as snow.\nSo make me in your morning a delight And set me in your houses,\n     high and low;\nSo shall we quaff the cups in ease and cheer, In endless joyance,\n     quit of care and woe.\n\nAt this Queen Es Shuhba was stirred to exceeding delight and\nsaid, 'Well done, O queen of delight! By Allah, I know not how I\nshall do to render thee thy due! May God the Most High grant us\nto enjoy thy long continuance [on life]!' Then she strained her\nto her breast and kissed her on the cheek; whereupon quoth Iblis\n(on whom be malison!), 'Indeed, this is an exceeding honour!'\nQuoth the queen, 'Know that this lady Tuhfeh is my sister and\nthat her commandment is my commandment and her forbiddance my\nforbiddance. So hearken all to her word and obey her\ncommandment.' Therewithal the kings rose all and kissed the earth\nbefore Tuhfeh, who rejoiced in this. Moreover, Queen Es Shuhba\nput off on her a suit adorned with pearls and jewels and\njacinths, worth an hundred thousand dinars, and wrote her on a\nsheet of paper a patent in her own hand, appointing her her\ndeputy. So Tuhfeh rose and kissed the earth before the queen, who\nsaid to her, 'Sing to us, of thy favour, concerning the rest of\nthe sweet-scented flowers and herbs, so I may hear thy singing\nand divert myself with witnessing thy skill.' 'Hearkening and\nobedience, O lady mine,' answered Tuhfeh and taking the lute,\nimprovised the following verses:\n\nMidst colours, my colour excelleth in light And I would every eye\n     of my charms might have sight.\nMy place is the place of the fillet and pearls And the fair are\n     most featly with jasmine bedight,\nHow bright and how goodly my lustre appears! Yea, my wreaths are\n     like girdles of silver so white.\n\nThen she changed the measure and improvised the following:\n\nI'm the crown of every sweet and fragrant weed; When the loved\n     one calls, I keep the tryst agreed.\nMy favours I deny not all the year; Though cessation be desired,\n     I nothing heed.\nI'm the keeper of the promise and the troth, And my gathering is\n     eath, without impede.\n\nThen she changed the measure and the mode [and played] so that\nshe amazed the wits of those who were present, and Queen Es\nShuhba was moved to mirth and said, 'Well done, O queen of\ndelight!' Then she returned to the first mode and improvised the\nfollowing verses on the water-lily:\n\nI fear to be seen in the air, Without my consent, unaware;\nSo I stretch out my root neath the flood And my branches turn\n     back to it there.\n\nTherewithal Queen Es Shuhba was moved to delight and said, 'Well\ndone, O Tuhfeh! Let me have more of thy singing.' So she smote\nthe lute and changing the mode, improvised the following verses\non the moss-rose:\n\nLook at the moss-rose, on its branches seen, Midmost its leafage,\n     covered all with green.\nTis gazed at for its slender swaying shape And cherished for its\n     symmetry and sheen.\nLovely with longing for its love's embrace, The fear of his\n     estrangement makes it lean.\n\nThen she changed the measure and the mode and sang the following\nverses:\n\nO thou that questionest the lily of its scent, Give ear unto my\n     words and verses thereanent.\nTh' Amir (quoth it) am I whose charms are still desired; Absent\n     or present, all in loving me consent.\n\nWhen she had made an end of her song, Queen Es Shuhba arose and\nsaid, 'Never heard I from any the like of this.' And she drew\nTuhfeh to her and fell to kissing her. Then she took leave of her\nand flew away; and all the birds took flight with her, so that\nthey walled the world; whilst the rest of the kings tarried\nbehind.\n\nWhen it was the fourth night, there came the boy whom they were\nminded to circumcise, adorned with jewels such as never saw eye\nnor heard ear of, and amongst the rest a crown of gold, set with\npearls and jewels, the worth whereof was an hundred thousand\ndinars. He sat down upon the throne and Tuhfeh sang to him, till\nthe surgeon came and they circumcised him, in the presence of all\nthe kings, who showered on him great store of jewels and jacinths\nand gold. Queen Kemeriyeh bade the servants gather up all this\nand lay it in Tuhfeh's closet, and it was [as much in value as]\nall that had fallen to her, from the first of the festival to the\nlast thereof. Moreover, the Sheikh Iblis (whom God curse!)\nbestowed upon Tuhfeh the crown worn by the boy and gave the\nlatter another, whereat her reason fled. Then the Jinn departed,\nin order of rank, whilst Iblis took leave of them, band by band.\n\nWhilst the Sheikh was thus occupied with taking leave of the\nkings, Meimoun sought his opportunity, whenas he saw the place\nempty, and taking up Tuhfeh on his shoulders, soared up with her\nto the confines of the sky and flew away with her. Presently,\nIblis came to look for Tuhfeh and see what she purposed, but\nfound her not and saw the slave-girls buffeting their faces; so\nhe said to them, 'Out on ye! What is to do?' 'O our lord,'\nanswered they, 'Meimoun hath snatched up Tuhfeh and flown away\nwith her.' When Iblis heard this, he gave a cry, to which the\nearth trembled, and said, 'What is to be done? Out on ye! Shall\nhe carry off Tuhfeh from my very palace and outrage mine honour?\nDoubtless, this Meimoun hath lost his wits.' Then he cried out a\nsecond time, that the earth quaked therefor, and rose up into the\nair.\n\nThe news came to the rest of the kings; so they [flew after him\nand] overtaking him, found him full of trouble and fear, with\nfire issuing from his nostrils, and said to him, 'O Sheikh\nAboultawaif, what is to do?' Quoth he, 'Know that Meimoun hath\ncarried off Tuhfeh from my palace and outraged mine honour.' When\nthey heard this, they said, 'There is no power and no virtue but\nin God the Most High, the Supreme! By Allah, he hath ventured\nupon a grave matter and indeed he destroyeth himself and his\npeople!' Then the Sheikh Iblis gave not over flying till he fell\nin with the tribes of the Jinn, and there gathered themselves\ntogether unto him much people, none may tell the tale of them\nsave God the Most High. So they came to the Fortress of Copper\nand the Citadel of Lead,[FN#238] and the people of the\nstrongholds saw the tribes of the Jinn issuing from every steep\nmountain-pass and said, 'What is to do?' Then Iblis went in to\nKing Es Shisban and acquainted him with that which had befallen,\nwhereupon quoth he, 'May God destroy Meimoun and his folk! He\nthinketh to possess Tuhfeh, and she is become queen of the Jinn!\nBut have patience till we contrive that which befitteth in the\nmatter of Tuhfeh.' Quoth Iblis, 'And what befitteth it to do?'\nAnd Es Shisban said, *We will fall upon him and slay him and his\npeople with the sword.'\n\nThen said the Sheikh Iblis, 'We were best acquaint Queen\nKemeriyeh and Queen Zelzeleh and Queen Sherareh and Queen\nWekhimeh; and when they are assembled, God shall ordain [that\nwhich He deemeth] good in the matter of her release.' 'It is well\nseen of thee,' answered Es Shisban and despatched to Queen\nKemeriyeh an Afrit called Selheb, who came to her palace and\nfound her asleep; so he aroused her and she said, 'What is to do,\nO Selheb?' 'O my lady,' answered he, 'come to the succour of thy\nsister Tuhfeh, for that Meimoun hath carried her off and outraged\nthine honour and that of the Sheikh Iblis.' Quoth she, 'What\nsayest thou?' And she sat up and cried out with a great cry. And\nindeed she feared for Tuhfeh and said, 'By Allah, indeed she used\nto say that he looked upon her and prolonged the looking on her;\nbut ill is that to which his soul hath prompted him.' Then she\narose in haste and mounting a she-devil of her devils, said to\nher, 'Fly.' So she flew off and alighted with her in the palace\nof her sister Sherareh, whereupon she sent for her sisters\nZelzeleh and Wekhimeh and acquainted them with the news, saying,\n'Know that Meimoun hath snatched up Tuhfeh and flown off with her\nswiftlier than the blinding lightning.'\n\n[Then they all flew off in haste and] lighting down in the place\nwhere were their father Es Shisban and their grandfather the\nSheikh Aboultawaif, found the folk on the sorriest of plights.\nWhen their grandfather Iblis saw them, he rose to them and wept,\nand they all wept for Tuhfeh. Then said Iblis to them, 'Yonder\ndog hath outraged mine honour and taken Tuhfeh, and I doubt not\nbut that she is like to perish [of concern] for herself and her\nlord Er Reshid and saying \"All that they said and did[FN#239] was\nfalse.\"' Quoth Kemeriyeh, 'O grandfather mine, there is nothing\nleft for it but [to use] stratagem and contrivance for her\ndeliverance, for that she is dearer to me than everything; and\nknow that yonder accursed one, whenas he is ware of your coming\nupon him, will know that he hath no power to cope with you, he\nwho is the least and meanest [of the Jinn]; but we fear that,\nwhen he is assured of defeat, he will kill Tuhfeh; wherefore\nnothing will serve but that we contrive for her deliverance; else\nwill she perish.' 'And what hast thou in mind of device?' asked\nhe; and she answered, 'Let us take him with fair means, and if he\nobey, [all will be well]; else will we practise stratagem against\nhim; and look thou not to other than myself for her deliverance.'\nQuoth Iblis, 'The affair is thine; contrive what thou wilt, for\nthat Tuhfeh is thy sister and thy solicitude for her is more\neffectual than [that of] any.'\n\nSo Kemeriyeh cried out to an Afrit of the Afrits and a calamity\nof the calamities,[FN#240] by name El Ased et Teyyar,[FN#241] and\nsaid to him, 'Go with my message to the Crescent Mountain, the\nabiding-place of Meimoun the Sworder, and enter in to him and\nsalute him in my name and say to him, \"How canst thou be assured\nfor thyself, O Meimoun?[FN#242] Couldst thou find none on whom to\nvent thy drunken humour and whom to maltreat save Tuhfeh, more by\ntoken that she is a queen? But thou art excused, for that thou\ndidst this not but of thine intoxication, and the Shekh\nAboultawaif pardoneth thee, for that thou wast drunken. Indeed,\nthou hast outraged his honour; but now restore her to her palace,\nfor that she hath done well and favoured us and done us service,\nand thou knowest that she is presently our queen. Belike she may\nbespeak Queen Es Shuhba, whereupon the matter will be aggravated\nand that wherein there is no good will betide. Indeed, thou wilt\nget no tittle of profit [from this thine enterprise]; verily, I\ngive thee good counsel, and so peace be on thee!\"'\n\n'Hearkening and obedience,' answered El Ased and flew till he\ncame to the Crescent Mountain, when he sought audience of\nMeimoun, who bade admit him. So he entered and kissing the earth\nbefore him, gave him Queen Kemeriyeh's message, which when he\nheard he said to the Afrit, 'Return whence thou comest and say to\nthy mistress, \"Be silent and thou wilt do wisely.\" Else will I\ncome and seize upon her and make her serve Tuhfeh; and if the\nkings of the Jinn assemble together against me and I be overcome\nof them, I will not leave her to scent the wind of this world and\nshe shall be neither mine nor theirs, for that she is presently\nmy soul[FN#243] from between my ribs; and how shall any part with\nhis soul?' When the Afrit heard Meimoun's words, he said to him,\n'By Allah, O Meimoun, thou hast lost thy wits, that thou speakest\nthese words of my mistress, and thou one of her servants!'\nWhereupon Meimoun cried out and said to him, 'Out on thee, O dog\nof the Jinn! Wilt thou bespeak the like of me with these words?'\nThen, he bade those who were about him smite El Ased, but he took\nflight and soaring into the air, betook himself to his mistress\nand told her that which had passed; and she said, 'Thou hast done\nwell, O cavalier.'\n\nThen she turned to her father and said to him, 'Give ear unto\nthat which I shall say to thee.' Quoth he, 'Say on;' and she\nsaid, 'Take thy troops and go to him, for that, when he heareth\nthis, he in his turn will levy his troops and come forth to thee;\nwherepon do thou give him battle and prolong the fighting with\nhim and make a show to him of weakness and giving way. Meantime,\nI will practise a device for winning to Tuhfeh and delivering\nher, what while he is occupied with you in battle; and when my\nmessenger cometh to thee and giveth thee to know that I have\ngotten possession of Tuhfeh and that she is with me, do thou\nreturn upon Meimoun forthright and destroy him, him and his\nhosts, and take him prisoner. But, if my device succeed not with\nhim and we avail not to deliver Tuhfeh, he will assuredly go\nabout to slay her, without recourse, and regret for her will\nabide in our hearts.' Quoth Iblis, 'This is the right counsel,'\nand let call among the troops to departure, whereupon an hundred\nthousand cavaliers, doughty men of war, joined themselves to him\nand set out for Meimoun's country.\n\nAs for Queen Kemeriyeh, she flew off to the palace of her sister\nWekhimeh and told her what Meimoun had done and how [he avouched\nthat], whenas he saw defeat [near at hand], he would slay Tuhfeh;\n'and indeed,' added she, 'he is resolved upon this; else had he\nnot dared to commit this outrage. So do thou contrive the affair\nas thou deemest well, for thou hast no superior in judgment.'\nThen they sent for Queen Zelzeleh and Queen Sherareh and sat down\nto take counsel, one with another, of that which they should do\nin the matter. Then said Wekhimeh, 'We were best fit out a ship\nin this island [wherein is my palace] and embark therein, in the\nguise of mortals, and fare on till we come to a little island,\nthat lieth over against Meimoun's palace. There will we [take up\nour abode and] sit drinking and smiting the lute and singing. Now\nTuhfeh will of a surety be sitting looking upon the sea, and\nneeds must she see us and come down to us, whereupon we will take\nher by force and she will be under our hands, so that none shall\navail more to molest her on any wise. Or, if Meimoun be gone\nforth to do battle with the Jinn, we will storm his stronghold\nand take Tuhfeh and raze his palace and put to death all who are\ntherein. When he hears of this, his heart will be rent in sunder\nand we will send to let our father know, whereupon he will return\nupon him with his troops and he will be destroyed and we shall be\nquit of him.' And they answered her, saying, 'This is a good\ncounsel.' Then they bade fit out a ship from behind the\nmountain,[FN#244] and it was fitted out in less than the\ntwinkling of an eye. So they launched it on the sea and embarking\ntherein, together with four thousand Afrits, set out, intending\nfor Meimoun's palace. Moreover, they bade other five thousand\nAfrits betake themselves to the island under the Crescent\nMountain and lie in wait for them there.\n\nMeanwhile, the Sheikh Aboultawaif Iblis and his son Es Shisban\nset out, as we have said, with their troops, who were of the\ndoughtiest of the Jinn and the most accomplished of them in\nvalour and horsemanship, [and fared on till they drew near the\nCrescent Mountain], When the news of their approach reached\nMeimoun, he cried out with a great cry to the troops, who were\ntwenty thousand horse, [and bade them make ready for departure].\nThen he went in to Tuhfeh and kissing her, said to her, 'Know\nthat thou art presently my life of the world, and indeed the Jinn\nare gathered together to wage war on me on thine account. If I am\nvouchsafed the victory over them and am preserved alive, I will\nset all the kings of the Jinn under thy feet and thou shall\nbecome queen of the world.' But she shook her head and wept; and\nhe said, 'Weep not, for, by the virtue of the mighty inscription\nengraven on the seal-ring of Solomon, thou shall never again see\nthe land of men! Can any one part with his life? So give ear unto\nthat which I say; else will I kill thee.' And she was silent.\n\nThen he sent for his daughter, whose name was Jemreh, and when\nshe came, he said to her, 'Harkye, Jemreh! Know that I am going\nto [meet] the clans of Es Shisban and Queen Kemeriyeh and the\nkings of the Jinn. If I am vouchsafed the victory over them, to\nAllah be the praise and thou shall have of me largesse; but, if\nthou see or hear that I am worsted and any come to thee with news\nof me [to this effect], hasten to slay Tuhfeh, so she may fall\nneither to me nor to them.' Then he took leave of her and\nmounted, saying, 'When this cometh about, pass over to the\nCrescent Mountain and take up thine abode there, and await what\nshall befall me and what I shall say to thee.' And Jemreh\nanswered with 'Hearkening and obedience.'\n\nWhen Tuhfeh heard this, she fell to weeping and wailing and said,\n'By Allah, nought irketh me save separation from my lord Er\nReshid; but, when I am dead, let the world be ruined after me.'\nAnd she doubted not in herself but that she was lost without\nrecourse. Then Meimoun set forth with his army and departed in\nquest of the hosts [of the Jinn], leaving none in the palace save\nhis daughter Jemreh and Tuhfeh and an Afrit who was dear unto\nhim. They fared on till they met with the army of Es Shisban; and\nwhen the two hosts came face to face, they fell upon each other\nand fought a passing sore battle. After awhile, Es Shisban's\ntroops began to give back, and when Meimoun saw them do thus, he\ndespised them and made sure of victory over them.\n\nMeanwhile, Queen Kemeriyeh and her company sailed on, without\nceasing, till they came under the palace wherein was Tuhfeh, to\nwit, that of Meimoun the Sworder; and by the ordinance of\ndestiny, Tuhfeh herself was then sitting on the belvedere of the\npalace, pondering the affair of Haroun er Reshid and her own and\nthat which had befallen her and weeping for that she was doomed\nto slaughter. She saw the ship and what was therein of those whom\nwe have named, and they in mortal guise, and said, 'Alas, my\nsorrow for yonder ship and the mortals that be therein!' As for\nKemeriyeh and her company, when they drew near the palace, they\nstrained their eyes and seeing Tuhfeh sitting, said, 'Yonder sits\nTuhfeh. May God not bereave [us] of her!' Then they moored their\nship and making for the island, that lay over against the palace,\nspread carpets and sat eating and drinking; whereupon quoth\nTuhfeh, 'Welcome and fair welcome to yonder faces! These are my\nkinswomen and I conjure thee by Allah, O Jemreh, that thou let me\ndown to them, so I may sit with them awhile and make friends with\nthem and return.' Quoth Jemreh, 'I may on no wise do that.' And\nTuhfeh wept. Then the folk brought out wine and drank, what while\nKemeriyeh took the lute and sang the following verses:\n\nBy Allah, but that I trusted that I should meet you again, Your\n     camel-leader to parting had summoned you in vain!\nParting afar hath borne you, but longing still is fain To bring\n     you near; meseemeth mine eye doth you contain.\n\nWhen Tuhfeh heard this, she gave a great cry, that the folk heard\nher and Kemeriyeh said, 'Relief is at hand.' Then she looked out\nto them and called to them, saying, 'O daughters of mine uncle, I\nam a lonely maid, an exile from folk and country. So, for the\nlove of God the Most High, repeat that song!' So Kemeriyeh\nrepeated it and Tuhfeh swooned away. When she came to herself,\nshe said to Jemreh, 'By the virtue of the Apostle of God (whom\nmay He bless and preserve!) except thou suffer me go down to them\nand look on them and sit with them awhile, [I swear] I will cast\nmyself down from this palace, for that I am weary of my life and\nknow that I am slain without recourse; wherefore I will slay\nmyself, ere thou pass sentence upon me.' And she was instant with\nher in asking.\n\nWhen Jemreh heard her words, she knew that, if she let her not\ndown, she would assuredly destroy herself. So she said to her, 'O\nTuhfeh, between thee and them are a thousand fathoms; but I will\nbring them up to thee.' 'Nay,' answered Tuhfeh, 'needs must I go\ndown to them and take my pleasance in the island and look upon\nthe sea anear; then will we return, thou and I; for that, if thou\nbring them up to us, they will be affrighted and there will\nbetide them neither easance nor gladness. As for me, I do but\nwish to be with them, that they may cheer me with their company\nneither give over their merrymaking, so haply I may make merry\nwith them, and indeed I swear that needs must I go down to them;\nelse will I cast myself upon them.' And she cajoled Jemreh and\nkissed her hands, till she said, 'Arise and I will set thee down\nbeside them.'\n\nThen she took Tuhfeh under her armpit and flying up, swiftlier\nthan the blinding lightning, set her down with Kemeriyeh and her\ncompany; whereupon she went up to them and accosted them, saying,\n'Fear not, no harm shall betide you; for I am a mortal, like unto\nyou, and I would fain look on you and talk with you and hear your\nsinging.' So they welcomed her and abode in their place, whilst\nJemreh sat down beside them and fell a-snuffing their odours and\nsaying, 'I smell the scent of the Jinn! I wonder whence [it\ncometh!'] Then said Wekhimeh to her sister Kemeriyeh, 'Yonder\nfilthy one [smelleth us] and presently she will take to flight;\nso what is this remissness concerning her?'[FN#245] Thereupon\nKemeriyeh put out a hand,[FN#246] as it were a camel's\nneck,[FN#247] and dealt Jemreh a buffet on the head, that made it\nfly from her body and cast it into the sea. Then said she, 'God\nis most great!' And they uncovered their faces, whereupon Tuhfeh\nknew them and said to them, 'Protection!'\n\nQueen Kemeriyeh embraced her, as also did Queen Zelzeleh and\nQueen Wekhimeh and Queen Sherareh, and the former said to her,\n'Rejoice in assured deliverance, for there abideth no harm for\nthee; but this is no time for talk.' Then they cried out,\nwhereupon up came the Afrits ambushed in the island, with swords\nand maces in their hands, and taking up Tuhfeh, flew with her to\nthe palace and made themselves masters thereof, whilst the Afrit\naforesaid, who was dear to Meimoun and whose name was Dukhan,\nfled like an arrow and stayed not in his flight till he carne to\nMeimoun and found him engaged in sore battle with the Jinn. When\nhis lord saw him, he cried out at him, saying, 'Out on thee! Whom\nhast thou left in the palace?' And Dukhan answered, saying, 'And\nwho abideth in the palace? Thy beloved Tuhfeh they have taken and\nJemreh is slain and they have gotten possession of the palace,\nall of it.' With this Meimoun buffeted his face and head and\nsaid, 'Out on it for a calamity!' And he cried aloud. Now\nKemeriyeh had sent to her father and acquainted him with the\nnews, whereat the raven of parting croaked for them. So, when\nMeimoun saw that which had betided him, (and indeed the Jinn\nsmote upon him and the wings of death overspread his host,) he\nplanted the butt of his spear in the earth and turning the point\nthereof to his heart, urged his charger upon it and pressed upon\nit with his breast, till the point came forth, gleaming, from his\nback.\n\nMeanwhile the messenger had reached the opposite camp with the\nnews of Tuhfeh's deliverance, whereat the Sheikh Aboultawaif\nrejoiced and bestowed on the bringer of good tidings a sumptuous\ndress of honour and made him commander over a company of the\nJinn. Then they fell upon Meimoun's troops and destroyed them to\nthe last man; and when they came to Meimoun, they found that he\nhad slain himself and was even as we have said. Presently\nKemeriyeh and her sister [Wekhimeh] came up to their grandfather\nand told him what they had done; whereupon he came to Tuhfeh and\nsaluted her and gave her joy of her deliverance. Then he\ndelivered Meimoun's palace to Selheb and took all the former's\nriches and gave them to Tuhfeh, whilst the troops encamped upon\nthe Crescent Mountain. Moreover, the Sheikh Aboultawaif said to\nTuhfeh, 'Blame me not,' and she kissed his hands. As they were\nthus engaged, there appeared to them the tribes of the Jinn, as\nthey were clouds, and Queen Es Shuhba flying in their van, with a\ndrawn sword in her hand.\n\nWhen she came in sight of the folk, they kissed the earth before\nher and she said to them, 'Tell me what hath betided Queen Tuhfeh\nfrom yonder dog Meimoun and why did ye not send to me and tell\nme?' Quoth they, 'And who was this dog that we should send to\nthee, on his account? Indeed, he was the least and meanest [of\nthe Jinn].' Then they told her what Kemeriyeh and her sisters had\ndone and how they had practised upon Meimoun and delivered Tuhfeh\nfrom his hand, fearing lest he should slay her, whenas he found\nhimself discomfited; and she said, 'By Allah, the accursed one\nwas wont to prolong his looking upon her!' And Tuhfeh fell to\nkissing Queen Es Shuhba's hand, whilst the latter strained her to\nher bosom and kissed her, saying, 'Trouble is past; so rejoice in\nassurance of relief.'\n\nThen they arose and went up to the palace, whereupon the trays of\nfood were brought and they ate and drank; after which quoth Queen\nEs Shuhba, 'O Tuhfeh, sing to us, by way of thankoffering for thy\ndeliverance, and favour us with that which shall solace our\nminds, for that indeed my mind hath been occupied with thee.'\nQuoth Tuhfeh 'Hearkening and obedience, O my lady.' So she\nimprovised and sang the following verses:\n\nWind of the East, if thou pass by the land where my loved ones\n     dwell, I pray, The fullest of greetings bear to them from\n     me, their lover, and say\nThat I am the pledge of passion still and that my longing love\n     And eke my yearning do overpass all longing that was aye.\n\nTherewithal Queen Es Shuhba rejoiced and all who were present\nrejoiced also and admired her speech and fell to kissing her; and\nwhen she had made an end of her song, Queen Kemeriyeh said to\nher, 'O my sister, ere thou go to thy palace, I would fain bring\nthee to look upon El Anca, daughter of Behram Gour, whom El Anca,\ndaughter of the wind, carried off, and her beauty; for that there\nis not her match on the face of the earth.' And Queen Es Shuhba\nsaid, 'O Kemeriyeh, I [also] have a mind to see her.' Quoth\nKemeriyeh, 'I saw her three years agone; but my sister Wekhimeh\nseeth her at all times, for that she is near unto her, and she\nsaith that there is not in the world a fairer than she. Indeed,\nthis Queen El Anca is become a byword for loveliness and proverbs\nare made upon her beauty and grace' And Wekhimeh said, 'By the\nmighty inscription [on the seal-ring of Solomon], there is not\nher like in the world!' Then said Queen Es Shuhba, 'If it needs\nmust be and the affair is as ye say, I will take Tuhfeh and go\nwith her [to El Anca], so she may see her.'\n\nSo they all arose and repaired to El Anca, who abode in the\nMountain Caf.[FN#248] When she saw them, she rose to them and\nsaluted them, saying, 'O my ladies, may I not be bereaved of\nyou!' Quoth Wekhimeh to her, 'Who is like unto thee, O Anca?\nBehold, Queen Es Shuhba is come to thee.' So El Anca kissed the\nqueen's feet and lodged them in her palace; whereupon Tuhfeh came\nup to her and fell to kissing her and saying, 'Never saw I a\ngoodlier than this favour.' Then she set before them somewhat of\nfood and they ate and washed their hands; after which Tuhfeh took\nthe lute and played excellent well; and El Anca also played, and\nthey fell to improvising verses in turns, whilst Tuhfeh embraced\nEl Anca every moment. Quoth Es Shuhba, 'O my sister, each kiss is\nworth a thousand dinars;' and Tuhfeh answered, 'Indeed, a\nthousand dinars were little for it.' Whereat El Anca laughed and\non the morrow they took leave of her and went away to Meimoun's\npalace.[FN#249]\n\nHere Queen Es Shuhba bade them farewell and taking her troops,\nreturned to her palace, whilst the kings also went away to their\nabodes and the Sheikh Aboultawaif addressed himself to divert\nTuhfeh till nightfall, when he mounted her on the back of one of\nthe Afrits and bade other thirty gather together all that she had\ngotten of treasure and raiment and jewels and dresses of honour.\n[Then they flew off,] whilst Iblis went with her, and in less\nthan the twinkling of an eye he set her down in her\nsleeping-chamber. Then he and those who were with him took leave\nof her and went away. When Tuhfeh found herself in her own\nchamber and on her couch, her reason fled for joy and it seemed\nto her as if she had never stirred thence. Then she took the lute\nand tuned it and touched it on wondrous wise and improvised\nverses and sang.\n\nThe eunuch heard the smiting of the lute within the chamber and\nsaid, 'By Allah, that is my lady Tuhfeh's touch!' So he arose and\nwent, as he were a madman, falling down and rising up, till he\ncame to the eunuch on guard at the door at the Commander of the\nFaithful and found him sitting. When the latter saw him, and he\nlike a madman, falling down and rising up, he said to him, 'What\naileth thee and what bringeth thee hither at this hour?' Quoth\nthe other, 'Wilt thou not make haste and awaken the Commander of\nthe Faithful?' And he fell to crying out at him; whereupon the\nKhalif awoke and heard them bandying words together and Tuhfeh's\nservant saying to the other, 'Out on thee! Awaken the Commander\nof the Faithful in haste.' So he said, 'O Sewab, what aileth\nthee?' And the chief eunuch answered, saying, 'O our lord, the\neunuch of Tuhfeh's lodging hath taken leave of his wits and\nsaith, \"Awaken the Commander of the Faithful in haste!\"' Then\nsaid Er Reshid to one of the slave-girls, 'See what is to do.'\n\nSo she hastened to admit the eunuch, who entered; and when he saw\nthe Commander of the Faithful, he saluted not neither kissed the\nearth, but said, 'Quick, quick! Arise in haste! My lady Tuhfeh\nsitteth in her chamber, singing a goodly ditty. Come to her in\nhaste and see all that I say to thee! Hasten! She sitteth [in her\nchamber].' The Khalif was amazed at his speech and said to him,\n'What sayst thou?' 'Didst thou not hear the first of the speech?'\nreplied the eunuch. 'Tuhfeh sitteth in the sleeping-chamber,\nsinging and playing the lute. Come thy quickliest! Hasten!' So Er\nReshid arose and donned his clothes; but he credited not the\neunuch's words and said to him, 'Out on thee! What is this thou\nsayst? Hast thou not seen this in a dream?' 'By Allah,' answered\nthe eunuch, 'I know not what thou sayest, and I was not asleep.'\nQuoth Er Reshid, 'If thy speech be true, it shall be for thy good\nluck, for I will enfranchise thee and give thee a thousand\ndinars; but, if it be untrue and thou have seen this in sleep, I\nwill crucify thee.' And the eunuch said in himself, 'O\nProtector,[FN#250] let me not have seen this in Sleep!' Then he\nleft the Khalif and going to the chamber-door, heard the sound of\nsinging and lute-playing; whereupon he returned to Er Reshid and\nsaid to him, 'Go and hearken and see who is asleep.'\n\nWhen Er Reshid drew near the door of the chamber, he heard the\nsound of the lute and Tuhfeh's voice singing; whereat he could\nnot restrain his reason and was like to swoon away for excess of\njoy. Then he pulled out the key, but could not bring his hand to\nopen the door. However, after awhile, he took heart and applying\nhimself, opened the door and entered, saying, 'Methinks this is\nnone other than a dream or an illusion of sleep.' When Tuhfeh saw\nhim, she rose and coming to meet him, strained him to her bosom;\nand he cried out with a cry, wherein his soul was like to depart,\nand fell down in a swoon. She strained him to her bosom and\nsprinkled on him rose-water, mingled with musk, and washed his\nface, till he came to himself, as he were a drunken man, for the\nexcess of his joy in Tuhfeh's return to him, after he had\ndespaired of her.\n\nThen she took the lute and smote thereon, after the fashion she\nhad learnt from the Sheikh Iblis, so that Er Reshid's wit was\ndazed for excess of delight and his understanding was confounded\nfor joy; after which she improvised and sang the following\nverses:\n\nMy heart will never credit that I am far from thee; In it thou\n     art, nor ever the soul can absent be.\nOr if to me \"I'm absent\" thou sayest, \"'Tis a lie,\" My heart\n     replies, bewildered 'twixt doubt and certainty.\n\nWhen she had made an end of her verses, Er Reshid said to her, 'O\nTuhfeh, thine absence was extraordinary, but thy presence[FN#251]\nis yet more extraordinary.' 'By Allah, O my lord,' answered she,\n'thou sayst sooth.' And she took his hand and said to him, 'See\nwhat I have brought with me.' So he looked and saw riches such as\nneither words could describe nor registers avail to set out,\npearls and jewels and jacinths and precious stones and great\npearls and magnificent dresses of honour, adorned with pearls and\njewels and embroidered with red gold. Moreover, she showed him\nthat which Queen Es Shuhba had bestowed on her of those carpets,\nwhich she had brought with her, and that her throne, the like\nwhereof neither Chosroes nor Cassar possessed, and those tables\ninlaid with pearls and jewels and those vessels, that amazed all\nwho looked on them, and the crown, that was on the head of the\ncircumcised boy, and those dresses of honour, which Queen Es\nShuhba and the Sheikh Aboultawaif had put off upon her, and the\ntrays wherein were those riches; brief, she showed him treasures\nthe like whereof he had never in his life set eyes on and which\nthe tongue availeth not to describe and whereat all who looked\nthereon were amazed.\n\nEr Reshid was like to lose his wits for amazement at this sight\nand was confounded at this that he beheld and witnessed. Then\nsaid he to Tuhfeh, 'Come, tell me thy story from first to last,\n[and let me know all that hath betided thee,] as if I had been\npresent' She answered with 'Hearkening and obedience,' and fell\nto telling him [all that had betided her] first and last, from\nthe time when she first saw the Sheikh Aboultawaif, how he took\nher and descended with her through the side of the draught-house;\nand she told him of the horse she had ridden, till she came to\nthe meadow aforesaid and described it to him, together with the\npalace and that which was therein of furniture, and related to\nhim how the Jinn rejoiced in her and that which she had seen of\nthe kings of them, men and women, and of Queen Kemeriyeh and her\nsisters and Queen Shuaaeh, Queen of the Fourth Sea, and Queen Es\nShuhba, Queen of Queens, and King Es Shisban, and that which each\none of them had bestowed upon her. Moreover, she told him the\nstory of Meimoun the Sworder and described to him his loathly\nfavour, which he had not consented to change, and related to him\nthat which befell her from the kings of the Jinn, men and women,\nand the coming of the Queen of Queens, Es Shuhba, and how she had\nloved her and appointed her her vice-queen and how she was thus\nbecome ruler over all the kings of the Jinn; and she showed him\nthe patent of investiture that Queen Es Shuhba had written her\nand told him that which had betided her with the Ghoul-head,\nwhenas it appeared to her in the garden, and how she had\ndespatched it to her palace, beseeching it to bring her news of\nthe Commander of the Faithful and that which had betided him\nafter her. Then she described to him the gardens, wherein she had\ntaken her pleasure, and the baths inlaid with pearls and jewels\nand told him that which had befallen Meimoun the Sworder, whenas\nhe carried her off, and how he had slain himself; brief, she told\nhim all that she had seen of wonders and rarities and that which\nshe had beheld of all kinds and colours among the Jinn.\n\nThen she told him the story of Anca, daughter of Behram Gour,\nwith Anca, daughter of the wind, and described to him her\ndwelling-place and her island, whereupon quoth Er Reshid, 'O\nTuhfet es Sedr,[FN#252] tell me of El Anca, daughter of Behram\nGour; is she of the Jinn or of mankind or of the birds? For this\nlong time have I desired to find one who should tell me of her.'\n'It is well, O Commander of the Faithful,' answered Tuhfeh. 'I\nasked the queen of this and she acquainted me with her case and\ntold me who built her the palace.' Quoth Er Reshid, 'I conjure\nthee by Allah, tell it me.' And Tuhfeh answered, 'It is well,'\nand proceeded to tell him. And indeed he was amazed at that which\nhe heard from her and what she told him and at that which she had\nbrought back of jewels and jacinths of various colours and\npreciots stones of many kinds, such as amazed the beholder and\nconfounded thought and mind. As for this, it was the means of the\nenrichment of the Barmecides and the Abbasicles, and they abode\nin their delight.\n\nThen the Khalif went forth and bade decorate the city: [so they\ndecorated it] and the drums of glad tidings were beaten. Moreover\nthey made banquets to the people and the tables were spread seven\ndays. And Tuhfeh and the Commander of the Faithful ceased not to\nbe in the most delightsome of life and the most prosperous\nthereof till there came to them the Destroyer of Delights and the\nSunderer of Companies; and thu is all that hath come down to as\nof their story.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n                    Calcutta (1814-18) Text.\n\n\n\n                             NOTE.\n\n\n\nThe following story occupies the last five Nights (cxcv-cc) of\nthe unfinished Calcutta Edition of 1814-18. The only other text\nof it known to me is that published by Monsieur Langles (Paris,\n1814), as an appendix to his Edition of the Voyages of Sindbad,\nand of this I have freely availed myself in making the present\ntranslation, comparing and collating with it the Calcutta\n(1814-18) Text and filling up and correcting omissions and errors\nthat occur in the latter. In the Calcutta (1814-18) Text this\nstory (Vol. II. pp. 367-378) is immediately succeeded by the\nSeven Voyages of Sindbad (Vol. II. pp. 378-458), which conclude\nthe work.\n\n\n\n\n\n                         WOMEN'S CRAFT.\n\n\n\nIt is told that there was once, in the city of Baghdad, a comely\nand well-bred youth, fair of face, tall of stature and slender of\nshape. His name was Alaeddin and he was of the chiefs of the sons\nof the merchants and had a shop wherein he sold and bought One\nday, as he sat in his shop, there passed by him a girl of the\nwomen of pleasure,[FN#253] who raised her eyes and casting a\nglance at the young merchant, saw written in a flowing hand on\nthe forepart[FN#254] of the door of his shop, these words,\n\"VERILY, THERE IS NO CRAFT BUT MEN'S CRAFT, FORASMUCH AS IT OVERCOMETH\nWOMEN'S CRAFT.\" When she beheld this, she was wroth and took\ncounsel with herself, saying, \"As my head liveth, I will\nassuredly show him a trick of the tricks of women and prove the\nuntruth of[FN#255] this his inscription!\"\n\nSo, on the morrow, she made her ready and donning the costliest\nof apparel, adorned herself with the most magnificent of\nornaments and the highest of price and stained her hands with\nhenna. Then she let down her tresses upon her shoulders and went\nforth, walking along with coquettish swimming gait and amorous\ngrace, followed by her slave-girls, till she came to the young\nmerchant's shop and sitting down thereat, under colour of seeking\nstuffs, saluted him and demanded of him somewhat of merchandise.\nSo he brought out to her various kinds of stuffs and she took\nthem and turned them over, talking with him the while. Then said\nshe to him, \"Look at the goodliness of my shape and my symmetry.\nSeest thou in me any default?\" And he answered, \"No, O my lady.\"\n\"Is it lawful,\" continued she, \"in any one that he should slander\nme and say that I am humpbacked?\"\n\nThen she discovered to him a part of her bosom, and when he saw\nher breasts, his reason took flight from his head and he said to\nher, \"Cover it up, so may God have thee in His safeguard!\" Quoth\nshe, \"Is it fair of any one to missay of my charms?\" And he\nanswered, \"How shall any missay of thy charms, and thou the sun\nof loveliness?\" Then said she, \"Hath any the right to say of me\nthat I am lophanded? \"And tucking up her sleeves, showed him\nforearms, as they were crystal; after which she unveiled to him a\nface, as it were a full moon breaking forth on its fourteenth\nnight, and said to him, \"Is it lawful for any to missay of me\n[and avouch] that my face is pitted with smallpox or that I am\none-eyed or crop-eared?\" And he answered her, saying, \"O my lady,\nwhat is it moveth thee to discover unto me that lovely face and\nthose fair members, [of wont so jealously] veiled and guarded?\nTell me the truth of the matter, may I be thy ransom!\" And he\nrecited the following verses:\n\nA white one, from her sheath of tresses now laid bare And now\n     again concealed in black, luxuriant hair;[FN#256]\nAs if the maid the day resplendent and her locks The night that\n     o'er it spreads its shrouding darkness were.\n\n\"Know, O my lord,\" answered she, \"that I am a maiden oppressed of\nmy father, for that he misspeaketh of me and saith to me, 'Thou\nart foul of favour and it befitteth not that thou wear rich\nclothes; for thou and the slave-girls, ye are equal in rank,\nthere is no distinguishing thee from them.' Now he is a rich man,\nhaving wealth galore, [and saith not on this wise but] because he\nis a niggard and grudgeth the spending of a farthing; [wherefore\nhe is loath to marry me,] lest he be put to somewhat of charge in\nmy marriage, albeit God the Most High hath been bountiful to him\nand he is a man puissant in his time and lacking nothing of the\ngoods of the world.\" \"Who is thy father,\" asked the young\nmerchant, \"and what is his condition?\" And she replied, \"He is\nthe Chief Cadi of the Supreme Court, under whose hand are all the\nCadis who administer justice in this city.\"\n\nThe merchant believed her and she took leave of him and went\naway, leaving in his heart a thousand regrets, for that the love\nof her had gotten possession of him and he knew not how he should\nwin to her; wherefore he abode enamoured, love-distraught,\nunknowing if he were alive or dead. As soon as she was gone, he\nshut his shop and going up to the Court, went in to the Chief\nCadi and saluted him. The magistrate returned his salutation and\nentreated him with honour and seated him by his side. Then said\nAlaeddin to him, \"I come to thee, a suitor, seeking thine\nalliance and desiring the hand of thy noble daughter.\" \"O my lord\nmerchant,\" answered the Cadi, \"indeed my daughter beseemeth not\nthe like of thee, neither sorteth she with the goodliness of thy\nyouth and the pleasantness of thy composition and the sweetness\nof thy discourse;\" but Alaeddin rejoined, saying, \"This talk\nbehoveth thee not, neither is it seemly in thee; if I be content\nwith her, how should this irk thee?\" So they came to an accord\nand concluded the treaty of marriage at a dower precedent of five\npurses[FN#257] paid down then and there and a dower contingent of\nfifteen purses,[FN#258] so it might be uneath unto him to put her\naway, forasmuch as her father had given him fair warning, but he\nwould not be warned.\n\nThen they drew up the contract of marriage and the merchant said,\n\"I desire to go in to her this night.\" So they carried her to him\nin procession that very night, and he prayed the prayer of\neventide and entered the privy chamber prepared for him; but,\nwhen he lifted the veil from the face of the bride and looked, he\nsaw a foul face and a blameworthy aspect; yea, he beheld somewhat\nthe like whereof may God not show thee! loathly, dispensing from\ndescription, inasmuch as there were reckoned in her all legal\ndefects.[FN#259] So he repented, whenas repentance availed him\nnot, and knew that the girl had cheated him. However, he lay with\nthe bride, against his will, and abode that night sore troubled\nin mind, as he were in the prison of Ed Dilem.[FN#260] Hardly had\nthe day dawned when he arose from her and betaking himself to one\nof the baths, dozed there awhile, after which he made the\nablution of defilement[FN#261] and washed his clothes. Then he\nwent out to the coffee-house and drank a cup of coffee; after\nwhich he returned to his shop and opening the door, sat down,\nwith discomfiture and chagrin written on his face.\n\nPresently, his friends and acquaintances among the merchants and\npeople of the market began to come up to him, by ones and twos,\nto give him joy, and said to him, laughing, \"God's blessing on\nthee! Where an the sweetmeats? Where is the coffee?[FN#262] It\nwould seem thou hast forgotten us; surely, the charms of the\nbride have disordered thy reason and taken thy wit, God help\nthee! Well, well; we give thee joy, we give thee joy.\" And they\nmade mock of him, whilst he gave them no answer and was like to\ntear his clothes and weep for vexation. Then they went away from\nhim, and when it was the hour of noon, up came his mistress,\ntrailing her skirts and swaying in her gait, as she were a\ncassia-branch in a garden. She was yet more richly dressed and\nadorned and more bewitching[FN#263] in her symmetry and grace\nthan on the previous day, so that she made the passers stop and\nstand in ranks to look on her.\n\nWhen she came to Alaeddin's shop, she sat down thereat and said\nto him, \"May the day be blessed to thee, O my lord Alaeddin! God\nprosper thee and be good to thee and accomplish thy gladness and\nmake it a wedding of weal and content!\" He knitted his brows and\nfrowned in answer to her; then said he to her, \"Tell me, how have\nI failed of thy due, or what have I done to injure thee, that\nthou shouldst play me this trick?\" Quoth she, \"Thou hast no wise\noffended against me; but this inscription that is written on the\ndoor of thy shop irketh me and vexeth my heart. If thou wilt\nchange it and write up the contrary thereof, I will deliver thee\nfrom thy predicament.\" And he answered, \"This that thou seekest\nis easy. On my head and eyes be it.\" So saying, he brought out a\nducat[FN#264] and calling one of his mamelukes, said to him, \"Get\nthee to such an one the scribe and bid him write us an\ninscription, adorned with gold and ultramarine, in these words,\nto wit, 'THERE IS NO CRAFT BUT WOMEN'S CRAFT, FOR THAT INDEED THEIR CRAFT IS\nA MIGHTY CRAFT AND OVERCOMETH AND HUMBLETH THE FABLES[FN#265] OF MEN.'\" And\nshe said to the servant, \"Go forthright.\"\n\nSo he repaired to the scribe, who wrote him the scroll, and he\nbrought it to his master, who set it on the door and said to the\ndamsel, \"Art thou satisfied?\" \"Yes,\" answered she. \"Arise\nforthright and get thee to the place before the citadel, where do\nthou foregather with all the mountebanks and ape-dancers and\nbear-leaders and drummers and pipers and bid them come to thee\nto-morrow early, with their drums and pipes, what time thou\ndrinkest coffee with thy father-in-law the Cadi, and congratulate\nthee and wish thee joy, saying, 'A blessed day, O son of our\nuncle! Indeed, thou art the vein[FN#266] of our eye! We rejoice\nfor thee, and if thou be ashamed of us, verily, we pride\nourselves upon thee; so, though thou banish us from thee, know\nthat we will not forsake thee, albeit thou forsakest us.' And do\nthou fall to strewing dinars and dirhems amongst them; whereupon\nthe Cadi will question thee, and do thou answer him, saying, 'My\nfather was an ape-dancer and this is our original condition; but\nout Lord opened on us [the gate of fortune] and we have gotten us\na name among the merchants and with their provost.'\n\nThen will he say to thee, 'Then thou art an ape-leader of the\ntribe of the mountebanks?' And do thou reply, 'I may in nowise\ndeny my origin, for the sake of thy daughter and in her honour.'\nThe Cadi will say, 'It may not be that thou shalt be given the\ndaughter of a sheikh who sitteth upon the carpet of the Law and\nwhose descent is traceable by genealogy to the loins of the\nApostle of God,[FN#267] nor is it seemly that his daughter be in\nthe power of a man who is an ape-dancer, a minstrel.' And do thou\nrejoin, 'Nay, O Effendi, she is my lawful wife and every hair of\nher is worth a thousand lives, and I will not let her go, though\nI be given the kingship of the world.' Then be thou persuaded to\nspeak the word of divorce and so shall the marriage be dissolved\nand ye be delivered from each other.\"\n\nQuoth Alaeddin, \"Thou counsellest well,\" and locking up his shop,\nbetook himself to the place before the citadel, where he\nforegathered with the drummers and pipers and instructed them how\nthey should do, [even as his mistress had counselled him,]\npromising them a handsome reward. So they answered him with\n\"Hearkening and obedience\" and on the morrow, after the\nmorning-prayer, he betook himself to the presence of the Cadi,\nwho received him with obsequious courtesy and seated him beside\nhimself. Then he turned to him and fell to conversing with him\nand questioning him of matters of selling and buying and of the\nprice current of the various commodities that were exported to\nBaghdad from all parts, whilst Alaeddin replied to him of all\nwhereof he asked him.\n\nAs they were thus engaged, behold, up came the dancers and\nmountebanks, with their pipes and drums, whilst one of their\nnumber forewent them, with a great banner in his hand, and played\nall manner antics with his voice and limbs. When they came to the\nCourthouse, the Cadi exclaimed, \"I seek refuge with God from\nyonder Satans!\" And the merchant laughed, but said nothing. Then\nthey entered and saluting his highness the Cadi, kissed\nAlaeddin's hands and said, \"God's blessing on thee, O son of our\nuncle! Indeed, thou solacest our eyes in that which thou dost,\nand we beseech God to cause the glory of our lord the Cadi to\nendure, who hath honoured us by admitting thee to his alliance\nand allotted us a part in his high rank and dignity.\" When the\nCadi heard this talk, it bewildered his wit and he was confounded\nand his face flushed with anger and he said to his son-in-law,\n\"What words are these?\" Quoth the merchant, \"Knowest thou not, O\nmy lord, that I am of this tribe? Indeed this man is the son of\nmy mother's brother and that other the son of my father's\nbrother, and I am only reckoned of the merchants [by courtesy]!\"\n\nWhen the Cadi heard this, his colour changed and he was troubled\nand waxed exceeding wroth and was rike to burst for excess of\nrage. Then said he to the merchant, \"God forbid that this should\nbe! How shall it be permitted that the daughter of the Cadi of\nthe Muslims abide with a man of the dancers and vile of origin?\nBy Allah, except thou divorce her forthright, I will bid beat\nthee and cast thee into prison till thou die! Had I foreknown\nthat thou wast of them, I had not suffered thee to approach me,\nbut had spat in thy face, for that thou art filthier[FN#268] than\na dog or a hog.\" Then he gave him a push and casting him down\nfrom his stead, commanded him to divorce; but he said, \"Be\nclement to me, O Effendi, for that God is clement, and hasten\nnot. I will not divorce my wife, though thou give me the kingdom\nof Irak.\"\n\nThe Cadi was perplexed and knew that constraint was not permitted\nof the law;[FN#269] so he spoke the young merchant fair and said\nto him, \"Protect me,[FN#270] so may God protect thee. If thou\ndivorce her not, this disgrace will cleave to me till the end of\ntime.\" Then his rage got the better of him and he said to him,\n\"An thou divorce her not with a good grace, I will bid strike off\nthy head forthright and slay myself; rather flame[FN#271] than\nshame.\" The merchant bethought himself awhile, then divorced her\nwith a manifest divorcement[FN#272] and on this wise he delivered\nhimself from that vexation. Then he returned to his shop and\nsought in marriage of her father her who had played him the trick\naforesaid and who was the daughter of the chief of the guild of\nthe blacksmiths. So he took her to wife and they abode with each\nother and lived the most solaceful of lives, in all prosperity\nand contentment and joyance, till the day of death; and God\n[alone] is All-Knowing.\n\n\n\n\n\nEnd of vol. II.\n\n\n\n\n                Tales from the Arabic, Volume 2\n                            Endnotes\n\n\n\n\n\n[FN#1]  A town of Khoiassan.\n\n[FN#2]  i.e., he dared not attempt to force her?\n\n[FN#3]  i.e. her \"yes\" meant \"yes\" and her \"no\" \"no.\"\n\n[FN#4]  Lit. ignorance.\n\n[FN#5]  Lit. spoke against her due.\n\n[FN#6]  i.e. a domed monument.\n\n[FN#7]  Lit \"ignorance,\" often used in the sense of\n\"forwardness.\"\n\n[FN#8]  i.e. my present plight.\n\n[FN#9]  i.e. ten thousand dinars.\n\n[FN#10] A similar story to this, though differing considerably in\ndetail, will be found in my \"Book of the Thousand Nights and One\nNight,\" Vol. V. p. 9, The Jewish Cadi and his pions wife.\n\n[FN#11] Or divineress (kahinek).\n\n[FN#12] i.e. whoredom.\n\n[FN#13] Or \"scar\" (ather).\n\n[FN#14] ie. hearken to.\n\n[FN#15] i.e. Persia.\n\n[FN#16] i.e. the case with which he earned his living.\n\n[FN#17] i.e. the ten thousand dirhems of the bond.\n\n[FN#18] i.e. exhorted her to patience.\n\n[FN#19] Or performing surgical operations (ilaj).\n\n[FN#20] i.e. the open space before his house.\n\n[FN#21] Or \"drew near unto.\"\n\n[FN#22] i.e. a descendant of Mohammed.\n\n[FN#23] Or the art of judging from external appearances\n(firaseh).\n\n[FN#24] Sic in the text; but the passage is apparently corrupt.\nIt is not plain why a rosy complexion, blue eyes and tallness\nshould be peculiar to women in love. Arab women being commonly\nshort, swarthy and black eyed, the attributes mentioned appear\nrather to denote the foreign origin of the woman; and it is\nprobable, therefore, that this passage has by a copyist's error,\nbeen mixed up with that which related to the signs by which the\nmock physician recognized her strangehood, the clause specifying\nthe symptoms of her love lorn condition having been crowded out\nin the process, an accident of no infrequent occurrence in the\ntranscription of Oriental works.\n\n[FN#25] Yellow was the colour prescribed for the wearing of Jews\nby the Muslim lawm in accordance with the decree issued by Khalif\nOmar ben el Khettab after the taking of Jerusalem in A.D. 636.\n\n[FN#26] i.e. Sunday.\n\n[FN#27] Herais, a species of \"risotto,\" made of pounded wheat or\nrice and meat in shreds.\n\n[FN#28] Lit. \"That have passed the night,\" i.e. are stale and\ntherefore indigestable.\n\n[FN#29] i.e. Saturday.\n\n[FN#30] i.e. native of Merv.\n\n[FN#31] Or \"ruined,\" lit. \"destroyed.\"\n\n[FN#32] i.e. native of Rei, a city of Khorassia.\n\n[FN#33] The text has khenadic, ditches or valleys; but this is,\nin all probability, a clerical or typographical error for\nfenadic, inns or caravanserais.\n\n[FN#34] It is a paramount duty of the Muslim to provide his dead\nbrother in the faith with decent interment; it is, therefore, a\ncommon practice for the family of a poor Arab to solicit\ncontributions toward the expenses of his burial, nor is the\nwell-to-do true believer safe from imposition of the kind\ndescribed in the text.\n\n[FN#35] i.e. the recompense in the world to come promised to the\nperformer of a charitable action.\n\n[FN#36] i.e. camphor and lote-tree leaves dried and powdered\n(sometimes mixed with rose-water) which are strewn over the dead\nbody, before it is wrapped in the shroud. In the case of a man of\nwealth, more costly perfumes (such as musk, aloes and ambergris)\nare used.\n\n[FN#37] All the ablutions prescribed by the Mohammedan ritual are\navoided by the occurrence, during the process, of any cause of\nceremonial impurity (such as the mentioned in the text) and must\nbe recommenced.\n\n[FN#38] Having handled a corpse, he had become in a state of\nlegal impurity and it beloved him therefore to make the\nprescribed ablution.\n\n[FN#39] Which he had taken off for the purpose of making\nabulution. This was reversing the ordinary course of affairs, the\ndead man's clothes being the washer's prequisite.\n\n[FN#40] i.e. till it was diminished by evaporation to two-thirds\nof its original volume.\n\n[FN#41] The Mohammedan grave is a cell, hollowed out in the sides\nof a trench and so constructed as to keep out the earth, that the\ndeceased may be able to sit up and answer the examining angels\nwhen they visit him in the tomb. There was, therefore, nothing\nimprobable in Er Razi's boast that he could abide two days in the\ntomb.\n\n[FN#42] Nawous, a sort of overground well or turricle of masonry,\nsurmounted by an iron grating, on which the Gueber's body is\nplaced for devoration by the birds.\n\n[FN#43] Munkir [Munker] and Nakir [Nekir] are the two angels that\npreside at 'the examination of the tomb.' They visit a man in his\ngrave directly after he has been buried and examine him\nconcerning his faith; if he acknowledge that there is but one God\nand that Mohammed is His prophet [apostle], they suffer him to\nrest in peace; otherwise they beat him with [red-hot] iron maces,\ntill he roars so loud[ly] that he is heard by all from east to\nwest, except by man and Ginns [Jinn].\"--Palmer's Koran,\nIntroduction.\n\n[FN#44] Lit. the oven (tennour); but this is obviously a mistake\nfor \"tombs\" (cubour).\n\n[FN#45] i.e. as a propitiatory offering on behalf of.\n\n[FN#46] i.e. though he remain at thy charge or (as we should say)\non thy hands.\n\n[FN#47] About twenty-five shillings.\n\n[FN#48] About \u00a3137 10s.\n\n[FN#49] Meaning the sharper.\n\n[FN#50] i.e. he asketh nought but that which is reasonable.\n\n[FN#51] The strict Muslim is averse from taking an oath, even in\nsupport at the truth, and will sometimes submit to a heavy loss\nrather than do so. For an instance of this, see my \"Book of the\nThousand Nights and One Night,\" Vol. V. p. 44, The King of the\nIsland.\n\n[FN#52] To wit, the merchant and his officious friend.\n\n[FN#53] There appears to be some mistake here, but I have no\nmeans of rectifying it. The passage is probably hopelessly\ncorrupt and a portion of the conclusion of the story seems to\nhave dropped out.\n\n[FN#54] i.e. well-guarded, confined in the harem.\n\n[FN#55] i.e. an old woman to crafty that she was a calamity to\nthose against whom she plotted.\n\n[FN#56] i.e. the amount of the contingent dowry and of the\nallowance which he was bound to make her for her support during\nthe four months and some days which must elapse before she could\nlawfully marry again.\n\n[FN#57] i.e. thou wilt have satisfied us all.\n\n[FN#58] With the smoke of burning aloes-wood or other perfume, a\ncommon practice among the Arabs. The aloes-wood is placed upon\nburning charcoal in a censer perforated with holes, which is\nswung towards the person to be fumigated, whose clothes and hair\nare thus impregnated with the grateful fragrance of the burning\nwood. An accident such as that mentioned in the text might easily\nhappen during the process of fumigation.\n\n[FN#59] i.e. by God. The old woman is keeping up her assumption\nof the character of a devotee by canting about Divine direction.\n\n[FN#60] This is the same story as \"The House with the Belvedere.\"\nSee my \"Book of the Thousand Nights and one Night,\" Vol. V. p.\n323.\n\n[FN#61] See note, Vol. I. p. 212. Also my \"Book of the Thousand\nNights and One Night,\" Vol. V. p. 263, The King and his Vizier's\nwife.\n\n[FN#62] Or experienced.\n\n[FN#63] i.e. the inhabitants of the island and the sailors?\n\n[FN#64] i.e. postponed the fulfilment of his promise.\n\n[FN#65] Sic; but apparently a state-prison or place of\nconfinement for notable offenders is meant.\n\n[FN#66] Or \"getting hold of.\"\n\n[FN#67] Lit. \"betrothed.\"\n\n[FN#68] Or \"in.\"\n\n[FN#69] i.e. if his appearance be such as to belie the\npossibility of his being a thief.\n\n[FN#70] i.e. people of power and worship.\n\n[FN#71] i.e. of wine.\n\n[FN#72] i.e. all his former afflictions or (perhaps) all His\ncommandments.\n\n[FN#73] i.e. a more venial sin.\n\n[FN#74] i.e. I have a proposal to make thee.\n\n[FN#75] i.e. he was brought up in my house.\n\n[FN#76] i.e. prayed for him by name, as the reigning sovereign,\nin the Khutbeh, a sort of homily made up of acts of prayer and\npraise and of exhortations to the congregation, which forms part\nof the Friday prayers. The mention of a newly-appointed\nsovereign's name in the Khutbeh is equivalent with the Muslims to\na solemn proclamation of his accession.\n\n[FN#77] i.e. deprive him of his rank.\n\n[FN#78] Or perverted belief, i.e. an infidel.\n\n[FN#79] i.e. not God.\n\n[FN#80] Or corrupt belief, i.e. that the destinies of mankind\nwere governed by the planets and not by God alone.\n\n[FN#81] i.e. \"him who is to me even as mine own soul,\" to wit,\nthe king.\n\n[FN#82] The whole of this story (which is apparently intended as\nan example of the flowery style (el bediya) of Arab prose) is\nterribly corrupt and obscure, and in the absence of a parallel\nversion, with which to collate it, it is impossible to be sure\nthat the exact sense has been rendered.\n\n[FN#83] Breslau Text, vol xi. pp. 321-99, Nights dccccxxx-xl.\n\n[FN#84] i.e. the first or Beherite dynasty of the Mameluke\nSultans, the founder of which was originally a Turkish (i.e.\nTurcoman) slave.\n\n[FN#85] Fourth Sultan of the above dynasty.\n\n[FN#86] i.e. Palestine (Es Sahil) so styled by the Arabs.\n\n[FN#87] Lit. his nightly entertainers, i.e. those whose place it\nwas to entertain him by night with the relation of stories and\nanecdotes and the recitation of verses, etc.\n\n[FN#88] i.e. the perfect of police.\n\n[FN#89] About fifty shillings.\n\n[FN#90] i.e. those of the visible and invisible worlds.\n\n[FN#91] i.e. of the Sultan's officers of the household. The\nSultan's palace and the lodgings of his chief officers were\nsituate, according to Eastern custom, in the citadel or central\nfortress of the city.\n\n[FN#92] Lit. [self-]possession (temkin).\n\n[FN#93] God forbid!\n\n[FN#94] Or strong place.\n\n[FN#95] i.e. lest ill-hap betide her and you be held responsible\nfor her.\n\n[FN#96] Which was in his custody in his ex-officio capacity of\nguardian, orphans in Muslim countries being, by operation of law,\nwards of the Cadi of their district.\n\n[FN#97] Altogether six thousand dinars or about \u00a33000.\n\n[FN#98] i.e. except thou give me immediate satisfaction, I will\ncomplain of thee to the Sultan.\n\n[FN#99] i.e. forgetting all that is enjoined upon the\ntrue-believer by the Institutes of the Prophet (Sunneh) and the\nCanons (Fers) of the Divine Law, as deduced from the Koran.\n\n[FN#100] Lit. red i.e. violent or bloody) death.\n\n[FN#101] Lit. the conquered one.\n\n[FN#102] i.e. my view of the matter differs from that of the\nCadi, but I cannot expect a hearing against a personage of his\nrank.\n\n[FN#103] And therefore freshly shed.\n\n[FN#104] For redness.\n\n[FN#105] Or parties.\n\n[FN#106] Lit. quench that fire from him.\n\n[FN#107] Of Cairo or (qu\u00e6re) the two Egyptian provinces known as\nEs Sherkiyeh (The Eastward) and El Gherbiyeh (The Westward).\n\n[FN#108] i.e, he was a man of ready wit and presence of mind.\n\n[FN#109] Or (in modern slang) \"There are good pickings to be had\nout of this job.\"\n\n[FN#110] Lit \"the douceur of the key,\" i.e. the gratuity which it\nis customary to give to the porter or portress on hiring a house\nor lodging. Cf. the French denier \u00e0 Dieu, Old English \"God's\npenny.\"\n\n[FN#111] i.e. made the complete ablution prescribed by the Muslim\nlaw after copulation.\n\n[FN#112] i.e. the round opening made in the ceiling for\nventilation.\n\n[FN#113] i.e. he who sits on the bench outside the police-office,\nto attend to emergencies.\n\n[FN#114] Lit. witnesses, i.e. those who are qualified by their\ngeneral respectability and the blamelessness of their lives, to\ngive evidence in the Mohamedan courts of law.\n\n[FN#115] Sic.\n\n[FN#116] About 50 pounds.\n\n[FN#117] Or guardian.\n\n[FN#118] Syn. book (kitab).\n\n[FN#119] Or made it a legal deed.\n\n[FN#120] Lit. assessors.\n\n[FN#121] This sentence is almost unintelligible, owing to the\ncorruptness and obscurity of the text; but the sense appears to\nbe as above.\n\n[FN#122] Apparently supposing the draper to have lost it and\npurposing to require a heavy indemnity for its loss.\n\n[FN#123] Apparently, a cant phrase for \"thieve.\"\n\n[FN#124] or disapprove of.\n\n[FN#125] This passage is unintelligible; the text is here again,\nto all appearance, corrupt.\n\n[FN#126] i.e. women's tricks?\n\n[FN#127] Muslim formula of invitation.\n\n[FN#128] i.e. the singers?\n\n[FN#129] i.e. easily.\n\n[FN#130] Or made a show of renouncing.\n\n[FN#131] i.e. strong men (or athletes) armed.\n\n[FN#132] Fityan, Arab cant name for thieves.\n\n[FN#133] Apparently in a pavillion in some garden or orchard, the\nusual pleasure of the Arabs.\n\n[FN#134] i.e. engaged her to attend an entertainment and paid her\nher hire in advance.\n\n[FN#135] Lit. a [she-]partner, i.e. one who should relieve her,\nwhen she was weary of singing, and accompany her voice on the\nlute.\n\n[FN#136] i.e. they grew ever more heated with drink.\n\n[FN#137] Helfeh or helfaa (vulg. Alfa), a kind of coarse, rushy\ngrass (Pos. multiflora), used in the East as fuel.\n\n[FN#138] Lit. \"we repented to God, etc, of singing.\" The practice\nof music, vocal and instrumental, is deprecated by the strict\nMuslim, in accordance with a tradition by which the Prophet is\nsaid to have expressed his disapproval of these arts.\n\n[FN#139] i.e. required to find the thief or make good the loss.\n\n[FN#140] i.e. the parties aggrieved.\n\n[FN#141] Or irrigation-work, usually a bucket-wheel, worked by\noxen.\n\n[FN#142] Or \"came true.\"\n\n[FN#143] i.e. crucify.\n\n[FN#144] i.e. a native of the Hauran, a district East of\nDamascus.\n\n[FN#145] i.e. the mysterious speaker.\n\n[FN#146] i.e. in the punishment that overtook me.\n\n[FN#147] The well-known Arab formula of refusal to a beggar,\nequivalent to the Spanish \"Perdoneme por amor de Dios, hermano!\"\n\n[FN#148] i.e. what I could afford.\n\n[FN#149] i.e. that of the officers of police.\n\n[FN#150] A common Oriental game, something like a rude out-door\nform of back-gammon, in which the players who throw certain\nnumbers are dubbed Sultan and Vizier.\n\n[FN#151] Lit. milk (leben), possibly a copyist's error for jubn\n(cheese).\n\n[FN#152] i.e. his forbearance in relinquishing his blood-revenge\nfor his brother.\n\n[FN#153] In the text, by an evident error, Shehriyar is here made\nto ask Shehrzad for another story and she to tell it him.\n\n[FN#154] Nesiheh.\n\n[FN#155] i.e. the mysterious speaker?\n\n[FN#156] Apparently some famous saint. The El Hajjaj whose name\nis familiar to readers of the Thomsand and One Night (see supra,\nVol. I. p. 53, note 2) was anything but a saint, if we may\nbelieve the popular report of him.\n\n[FN#157] Breslan Text, vol. xi. pp. 400-473 and vol. xii. pp.\n4-50, Nights dccccvli-dcccclvii.\n\n[FN#158] The usual meaning of the Arab word anber (pronounced\namber) a ambergris, i.e. the morbid secretion of the sperm-whale;\nbut the context appears to point to amber, i.e. the fossil resin\nused for necklaces, etc.; unless, indeed, the allusion of the\nsecond hemistich is to ambergris, as worn, for the sake of the\nperfume, in amulets or pomanders (Fr. pomme d'ambre) slung about\nthe neck.\n\n[FN#159] i.e. galena or sulphuret of lead, of which, reduced to\npowder, alone or in combination with other ingredients, the\nwell-known cosmetic or eye-powder called kohl consists.\n\n[FN#160] See supra, Vol. 1. p. 50, note 2.\n\n[FN#161] Or \"accomplishments\" (adab).\n\n[FN#162] Title of the Khalif.\n\n[FN#163] i.e. Isaac of Mosul, the greatest of Arab musicians.\n\n[FN#164] Elder brother of Jaafer; see my \"Book of the Thousand\nNights and One Night,\" Vol. IX. p. 342 et seq.\n\n[FN#165] Yonnus ibn Hebib, a renowned grammarian and philologer\nof the day, who taught at Bassora and whose company was much\nsought after by distinguished men of letters and others. He was a\nfriend of Isaac of Mosul.\n\n[FN#166] Apparently a suburb of Baghdad.\n\n[FN#167] i.e. the principal street of Et Taf.\n\n[FN#168] Or \"elegant.\"\n\n[FN#169] See supra, Vol. I. p. 236, note 1.\n\n[FN#170] ?\n\n[FN#171] A passage has apparently dropped out here. The Khalif\nseems to have gone away without buying, leaving Ishac behind,\nwhereupon the latter was accosted by another slave-girl, who came\nout of a cell in the corridor.\n\n[FN#172] Or \"have withheld myself.\"\n\n[FN#173] For not selling me?\n\n[FN#174] i.e. Tuhfeh the fool. Hemca is the feminine form of\nahmec, fool. If by a change in the (unwritten) vowels, we read\nHumeca, which is the plural form of ahmec, the title will\nsignify, \"Gift (Tuhfeh) of fools\" and would thus represent a\njesting alteration of the girl's real name (Tuhfet el Culoub,\nGift of hearts), in allusion to her (from the slave-merchant's\npoint of view) foolish and vexatious behaviour in refusing to be\nsold to the first comer, as set out below.\n\n[FN#175] Or \"folly\" (hemakeh).\n\n[FN#176] i.e. not every one is lucky enough to be in Ishac's\nhouse.\n\n[FN#177] Apparently some part of Baghdad adjoining the Tigris.\nKhanekah means \"a convent of dervishes.\"\n\n[FN#178] Lit. stronger (acwa).\n\n[FN#179] The gist of this curious comparison is not very\napparent. Perhaps \"blander\" is meant.\n\n[FN#180] About 10s.\n\n[FN#181] About a penny; i.e. I have found all my skill in the\ncraft but a trifle in comparison with thine.\n\n[FN#182] i.e. thou art what he wants.\n\n[FN#183] i.e. the dews of her mouth, commonly compared by\nOriental writers to wine and honey.\n\n[FN#184] i.e. he died.\n\n[FN#185] i.e. if my hand were out for want of practice.\n\n[FN#186] i.e. a gift or rarity.\n\n[FN#187] Or \"rarity\" (tuhfeh)\n\n[FN#188] i.e. thou didst her not justice.\n\n[FN#189] i.e. that set apart for the chief of the concubines.\n\n[FN#190] i.e. from the opening made in the ceiling for\nventilation. Or the saloon in which she sat may have been open to\nthe sky, as is not uncommon in the East.\n\n[FN#191] Zubeideh was the daughter of Jaafer, son of El Mensour,\nsecond Khalif of the house of Abbas, and was therefore Er\nReshid's first cousin. It does not appear why she is called\ndaughter (bint) of El Casim.\n\n[FN#192] Lit. \"of those noble steps.\"\n\n[FN#193] So styled by the Muslums, because Abraham is fabled by\nthem to have driven him away with stones, when he strove to\nprevent him from sacrificing Ishmael, whom they substitute for\nIsaac as the intended victim.\n\n[FN#194] i.e. Gift of Breasts. The word \"breasts\" here is, of\ncourse, used (metonymically) for \"hearts.\"\n\n[FN#195] i.e. \"He (lit. father) of the hosts of tribes.\"\n\n[FN#196] See post, passim.\n\n[FN#197] Lit. witnesses (shawahid).\n\n[FN#198] Lit. seas (behar).\n\n[FN#199] Afterwards called Zelzeleh; see post, p. 245 et seq.\n\n[FN#200] i.e. I cannot look long on them.\n\n[FN#201] i.e. change the sir to one less poignant? Or (perhaps)\n\"lower thy voice.\"\n\n[FN#202] i.e. from time immemorial, before the creation of the\nworld. The most minute details of every man's life in the world\nare believed by the Mohammedans to have been fore-ordained by God\nfrom all eternity. This belief is summed up in the Koranic\nsaying, \"Verily, the commandment of God is a prevenient decree.\"\n\n[FN#203] No mention is afterward made of any wedding, and the\nword is, therefore, probably used here in its implied sense of\n\"festival,\" \"merry-making.\" I am not, however acquainted with any\ninstance of this use of the word urs.\n\n[FN#204] Or \"peewit.\"\n\n[FN#205] i.e. those that led the water to the roots of the trees,\nafter the manner of Eastern gardeners.\n\n[FN#206] One of the seven \"Gardens\" or stages for the Mohammedan\nheaven.\n\n[FN#207] \"God is Most Great!\" So called because its\npronunciation, after that of the niyeh or intent (i.e. \"I purpose\nto pray such and such prayers\"), prohibits the speaking of any\nwords previous to prayer.\n\n[FN#208] i.e. those of the five daily prayers (due at daybreak,\nnoon, mid-afternoon, sundown, and nightfall respectively) which\nshe had been prevented from praying on the previous evening,\nthrough having passed it in carousing with the Jinn. It is\nincumbent on the strict Muslim to make up his arrears of prayer\nin this manner.\n\n[FN#209] Lit. skill in physiognomy (firaseh).\n\n[FN#210] i.e. the owner of this palace.\n\n[FN#211] The Mohammedan rite of ablution, previous to prayer, is\na very elaborate and complicated process, somewhat \"scamped\" by\nthe ordinary \"true-believer.\" See my \"Book of the Thousand Nights\nand One Night,\" Vol. IV. pp. 332-4.\n\n[FN#212] i.e. the prayers of nightfall, in addition to those of\ndaybreak.\n\n[FN#213] i.e. those of noon, mid-afternoon and sundown.\n\n[FN#214] Containing the dessert.\n\n[FN#215] i.e. Mohammed, who was passionately fond of flowers and\nespecially of the rose, which is fabled to have blossomed from\nhis sweat.\n\n[FN#216] The Arab name (julnar) of the promegranate is made up of\nthe Persian word for rose (gul) and the Arabic fire (nar).\n\n[FN#217] i.e. Chapters cxiii. and cxiv. of the Koran,\nrespectively known as the Chapter of the [Lord of the] Daybreak\nand the Chapter of [The Lord of] Men. These chapters, which it is\nthe habit of the Muslim to recite as a talisman or preventive\nagainst evil, are the last and shortest in the book and run as\nfollows. Chapter cxiii.--\"In the name of the Compassionate, the\nMerciful! Say [quoth Gabriel] 'I take refuge with the Lord of the\nDaybreak from the evil of that which He hath created and from the\nevil of the beginning of the night, whenas it invadeth [the\nworld], and from the mischief of the women who blow on knots\n(i.e. witches) and from the mischief of the envier, whenas he\nenvieth.'\" Chapter cxiv.--\"In the name of God the Compassionate,\nthe Merciful! Say [quoth Gabriel] 'I take refuge with the Lord of\nMen, the King of Men, the God of Men, from the mischief of the\nstealthy Tempter (i.e. the devil) who whispereth (i.e.\ninsinuateth evil) into the breasts (hearts) of mankind, from Jinn\nand men!'\" These two chapters are often written on parchment etc.\nand worn as an amulet about the person--hence their name.\n\n[FN#218] Hieratic title of the Khalif, as foreman (imam) of the\npeople at prayer.\n\n[FN#219] i.e. the Jinn that dwell therein. Each house, according\nto Muslim belief, has its haunter or domestic spirit.\n\n[FN#220] i.e. yearning.\n\n[FN#221] i.e. her return.\n\n[FN#222] See ante, p. 229, note 2.\n\n[FN#223] \"As for him who is of those brought near unto God, [for\nhim shall be] easance and sweet basil (syn. victual, rihan), and\na garden of pleasance.\"--Koran lvi. 87-8. It will be observed\nthat this verse is somewhat garbled in the quotation.\n\n[FN#224] Meaning apparently, \"None of the Jinn may tread these\ncarpets, etc., that thou treadest.\"\n\n[FN#225] i.e. to hold festival.\n\n[FN#226] This passage may also be rendered, \"And in this I do\nthee a great favour [and honour thee] over all the Jinn.\"\n\n[FN#227] Lit. \"How loathly is that which yonder genie Meimoun\neateth!\" But this is evidently a mistake. See ante, p. 226.\n\n[FN#228] Lit. \"I have not an eye that availeth to look upon him.\"\n\n[FN#229] i.e. \"May I not lack of thy visits!\"\n\n[FN#230] i.e. \"As much again as all thou hast given.\"\n\n[FN#231] The attainment by a boy of the proper age for\ncircumcision, or (so to speak) his religious majority, in a\nsubject for great rejoicing with the Mohammedans, and the\noccasion is celebrated by the giving of as splendid an\nentertainment as the means of his family will afford, during\nwhich he is displayed to view upon a throne or raised seat,\narrayed in the richest and ornaments that can be found, hired or\nborrowed for the purpose.\n\n[FN#232] Tuhfeh.\n\n[FN#233] Lit. \"be equitable therewith unto;\" but the meaning\nappears to be as above.\n\n[FN#234] Lit. \"places\" (mawazi). Quaere \"shifts\" or \"positions.\"\n\n[FN#235] See my \"Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night,\" Vol.\nVI. p. 226, Isaac of Mosul and his Mistress and the Devil.\n\n[FN#236] i.e. method of playing the lute.\n\n[FN#237] i.e. not indigenous?\n\n[FN#238] Apparently the residence of King Es Shisban.\n\n[FN#239] i.e. all the Jinn's professions of affection to me and\npromises of protection, etc.\n\n[FN#240] i.e. one so crafty that he was a calamity to his\nenemies, a common Arab phrase used in a complimentary sense.\n\n[FN#241] i.e. the Flying Lion.\n\n[FN#242] i.e. How canst thou feel assured of safety, after that\nwhich thou hast done?\n\n[FN#243] Or \"life\" (ruh).\n\n[FN#244] Quaere the mountain Cat.\n\n[FN#245] i.e. why tarriest thou to make an end of her?\n\n[FN#246] i.e. arm.\n\n[FN#247] i.e. for length.\n\n[FN#248] A fabulous mountain-range, believed by the Arabs to\nencompass the world and by which they are supposed to mean the\nCaucasus.\n\n[FN#249] The Anca, phoenix or griffin, is a fabulous bird that\nfigures largely in Persian romance. It is fabled to have dwelt in\nthe Mountain Caf and to have once carried off a king's daughter\non her wedding-day. It is to this legend that the story-teller\nappears to refer in the text; but I am not aware that the\nprincess in question is represented to have been the daughter of\nBehram Gour, the well-known King of Persia, who reigned in the\nfirst half of the fifth century and was a contemporary of the\nEmperors Theodosius the Younger and Honorius.\n\n[FN#250] One of the names of God.\n\n[FN#251] i.e. thy return.\n\n[FN#252] Gift of the Breast (heart).\n\n[FN#253] Binat el hawa, lit. daughters of love. This is the\nordinary meaning of the phrase; but the girl in question appears\nto have been of good repute and the expression, as applied to\nher, is probably, therefore, only intended to signify a\nsprightly, frolicsome damsel.\n\n[FN#254] Lit. the forehead, quare the lintel.\n\n[FN#255] Or \"put to nought\"\n\n[FN#256] Comparing her body, now hidden in her flowing stresses\nand now showing through them, to a sword, as it flashes in and\nout of its sheath.\n\n[FN#257] About \u00a325.\n\n[FN#258] About \u00a375.\n\n[FN#259] i.e. all defects for which a man is by law entitled to\nreturn a slave-girl to her seller.\n\n[FN#260] Ed Dilem is the ancient Media. The allusion to its\nprison or prisons I do not understand.\n\n[FN#261] i.e. the complete ablution prescribed by the Mohammedan\nlaw after sexual intercourse.\n\n[FN#262] It is customary for a newly-married man to entertain his\nmale acquaintances with a collation on the morning after the\nwedding.\n\n[FN#263] Lit. more striking and cutting.\n\n[FN#264] Sherifi, a small gold coin, worth about 6s. 8d.\n\n[FN#265] Or \"false pretences.\"\n\n[FN#266] Or, as we should say, \"the apple.\"\n\n[FN#267] Apparently the Cadi was our claimed to be a seyyid i.e.\ndescendant of Mohammed, through his daughter Fatmeh.\n\n[FN#268] Lit. more ill-omened.\n\n[FN#269] i.e. that the law would not allow him to compel the\nyoung merchant to divorce his wife.\n\n[FN#270] i.e. veil in honour.\n\n[FN#271] Lit the fire, i.e. hell.\n\n[FN#272] i.e. by an irrevocable divorcement (telacan bainan), to\nwit, such a divorcement as estops the husband from taking back\nhis divorced wife, except with her consent and after the\nexecution of a fresh contract of marriage.\n\nText scanned by JC Byers and proof read by the volunteers of the\nDistributed Proofreaders site: http://charlz.dns2go.com/gutenberg/\n\n\n\n                     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 THIRD.\n\n\n\n                              1901\n\n                         Delhi Edition\n\n\n                 Contents of The Third Volume.\n\n\n\n                         Breslau Text.\n\n16.  Noureddin Ali of Damascus and the Damsel Sitt El Milah\n17.  El Abbas and the King's Daughter of Baghdad\n18.  The Two Kings and the Vizier's Daughters\n19.  The Favourite and Her Lover\n20.  The Merchant of Cairo and the Favourite of the Khalif El\n     Mamoun El Hakim Bi Amrillah\n     Conclusion\n\n\n\n\n\n                    Calcutta (1814-18) Text.\n\n\n\n21.  Story of Sindbad the Sailor and Hindbad the Porter\n     a.   The Sixth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor\n     b.   The Seventh Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor\nNote\nTable of Contents of the Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac Editions\nTable of Contents of the Breslau Edition\nTable of Contents of the Calcutta Edition\nAlphabetical Table of the First Lines of the Verse in the \"Tales\nfrom the Arabic\"\nIndex to the Names of the \"Tales from the Arabic\"\n\n\n\n\n\n                         Breslau Text.\n\n\n\n               NOUREDDIN ALI OF DAMASCUS AND THE\n                  DAMSEL SITT EL MILAH.[FN#1]\n\n\n\nThere was once, of old days and in bygone ages and times, a\nmerchant of the merchants of Damascus, by name Aboulhusn, who had\nmoney and riches and slaves and slave-girls and lands and houses\nand baths; but he was not blessed with a child and indeed his\nyears waxed great; wherefore he addressed himself to supplicate\nGod the Most High in private and in public and in his inclining\nand his prostration and at the season of the call to prayer,\nbeseeching Him to vouchsafe him, before his admittance [to His\nmercy], a son who should inherit his wealth and possessions; and\nGod answered his prayer. So his wife conceived and the days of\nher pregnancy were accomplished and her months and her nights and\nthe pangs of her travail came upon her and she gave birth to a\nmale child, as he were a piece of the moon. He had not his match\nfor beauty and he put to shame the sun and the resplendent moon;\nfor he had a shining face and black eyes of Babylonian\nwitchery[FN#2] and aquiline nose and ruby lips; brief, he was\nperfect of attributes, the loveliest of the folk of his time,\nwithout doubt or gainsaying.\n\nHis father rejoiced in him with the utmost joy and his heart was\nsolaced and he was glad; and he made banquets to the folk and\nclad the poor and the widows. He named the boy Sidi[FN#3]\nNoureddin Ali and reared him in fondness and delight among the\nslaves and servants. When he came to seven years of age, his\nfather put him to school, where he learned the sublime Koran and\nthe arts of writing and reckoning: and when he reached his tenth\nyear, he learned horsemanship and archery and to occupy himself\nwith arts and sciences of all kinds, part and parts.[FN#4] He\ngrew up pleasant and subtle and goodly and lovesome, ravishing\nall who beheld him, and inclined to companying with brethren and\ncomrades and mixing with merchants and travellers. From these\nlatter he heard tell of that which they had seen of the marvels\nof the cities in their travels and heard them say, \"He who\nleaveth not his native land diverteth not himself [with the sight\nof the marvels of the world,] and especially of the city of\nBaghdad.\"\n\nSo he was concerned with an exceeding concern for his lack of\ntravel and discovered this to his father, who said to him, \"O my\nson, why do I see thee chagrined?\" And he answered, \"I would fain\ntravel.\" Quoth Aboulhusn, \"O my son, none travelleth save those\nwhose occasion is urgent and those who are compelled thereunto\n[by need]. As for thee, O my son, thou enjoyest ample fortune; so\ndo thou content thyself with that which God hath given thee and\nbe bounteous [unto others], even as He hath been bounteous unto\nthee; and afflict not thyself with the toil and hardship of\ntravel, for indeed it is said that travel is a piece of\ntorment.\"[FN#5] But the youth said, \"Needs must I travel to\nBaghdad, the abode of peace.\"\n\nWhen his father saw the strength of his determination to travel,\nhe fell in with his wishes and equipped him with five thousand\ndinars in cash and the like in merchandise and sent with him two\nserving-men. So the youth set out, trusting in the blessing of\nGod the Most High, and his father went out with him, to take\nleave of him, and returned [to Damascus]. As for Noureddin Ali,\nhe gave not over travelling days and nights till he entered the\ncity of Baghdad and laying up his loads in the caravanserai, made\nfor the bath, where he did away that which was upon him of the\ndirt of the road and putting off his travelling clothes, donned a\ncostly suit of Yemen stuff, worth an hundred dinars. Then he put\nin his sleeve[FN#6] a thousand mithcals[FN#7] of gold and sallied\nforth a-walking and swaying gracefully as he went. His gait\nconfounded all those who beheld him, as he shamed the branches\nwith his shape and belittled the rose with the redness of his\ncheeks and his black eyes of Babylonian witchcraft; indeed, thou\nwouldst deem that whoso looked on him would surely be preserved\nfrom calamity; [for he was] even as saith of him one of his\ndescribers in the following verses:\n\nThy haters say and those who malice to thee bear A true word,\n     profiting its hearers everywhere;\n\"The glory's not in those whom raiment rich makes fair, But those\n     who still adorn the raiment that they wear.\"\n\nSo he went walking in the thoroughfares of the city and viewing\nits ordinance and its markets and thoroughfares and gazing on its\nfolk. Presently, Abou Nuwas met him. (Now he was of those of whom\nit is said, \"They love the fair,\"[FN#8] and indeed there is said\nwhat is said concerning him.[FN#9] When he saw Noureddin Ali, he\nstared at him in amazement and exclaimed, \"Say, I take refuge\nwith the Lord of the Daybreak!\"[FN#10] Then he accosted the young\nDamascene and saluting him, said to him, \"Why do I see my lord\nalone and forlorn? Meseemeth thou art a stranger and knowest not\nthis country; so, with my lord's permission, I will put myself at\nhis service and acquaint him with the streets, for that I know\nthis city.\" Quoth Noureddin, \"This will be of thy favour, O\nuncle.\" Whereat Abou Nuwas rejoiced and fared on with him,\nshowing him the markets and thoroughfares, till they came to the\nhouse of a slave-dealer, where he stopped and said to the youth,\n\"From what city art thou?\" \"From Damascus,\" answered Noureddin;\nand Abou Nuwas said, \"By Allah, thou art from a blessed city,\neven as saith of it the poet in the following verses:\n\nDamascus is all gardens decked for the pleasance of the eyes; For\n     the seeker there are black-eyed girls and boys of Paradise.\"\n\nNoureddin thanked him and they entered the slave-merchant's\nhouse. When the people of the house saw Abou Nuwas, they rose to\ndo him worship, for that which they knew of his station with the\nCommander of the Faithful. Moreover, the slave-dealer himself\ncame up to them with two chairs, and they seated themselves\nthereon. Then the slave-merchant went into the house and\nreturning with the slave-girl, as she were a willow-wand or a\nbamboo-cane, clad in a vest of damask silk and tired with a black\nand white turban, the ends whereof fell down over her face,\nseated her on a chair of ebony; after which quoth he to those who\nwere present, \"I will discover to you a face as it were a full\nmoon breaking forth from under a cloud.\" And they said, \"Do so.\"\nSo he unveiled the damsel's face and behold, she was like the\nshining sun, with comely shape and day-bright face and slender\n[waist and heavy] hips; brief, she was endowed with elegance, the\ndescription whereof existeth not, [and was] even as saith of her\nthe poet:\n\nA fair one, to idolaters if she herself should show, They'd leave\n     their idols and her face for only Lord would know;\nAnd if into the briny sea one day she chanced to spit, Assuredly\n     the salt sea's floods straight fresh and sweet would grow.\n\nThe dealer stood at her head and one of the merchants said, \"I\nbid a thousand dinars for her.\" Quoth another, \"I bid eleven\nhundred dinars;\" [and a third, \"I bid twelve hundred\"]. Then said\na fourth merchant, \"Be she mine for fourteen hundred dinars.\" And\nthe biddings stood still at that sum. Quoth her owner, \"I will\nnot sell her save with her consent. If she desire to be sold, I\nwill sell her to whom she willeth.\" And the slave-dealer said to\nhim, \"What is her name?\" \"Her name is Sitt el Milah,\"[FN#11]\nanswered the other; whereupon the dealer said to her, \"By thy\nleave, I will sell thee to yonder merchant for this price of\nfourteen hundred dinars.\" Quoth she, \"Come hither to me.\" So he\ncame up to her and when he drew near, she gave him a kick with\nher foot and cast him to the ground, saying, \"I will not have\nthat old man.\" The slave-dealer arose, shaking the dust from his\nclothes and head, and said, \"Who biddeth more? Who is desirous\n[of buying?]\" Quoth one of the merchants, \"I,\" and the dealer\nsaid to her, \"O Sitt el Milah, shall I sell thee to this\nmerchant?\" \"Come hither to me,\" answered she; but he said \"Nay;\nspeak and I will hearken to thee from my place, for I will not\ntrust myself to thee,\" And she said, \"I will not have him.\"\n\nThen he looked at her and seeing her eyes fixed on the young\nDamascene, for that in very deed he had ravished her with his\nbeauty and grace, went up to the latter and said to him, \"O my\nlord, art thou a looker-on or a buyer? Tell me.\" Quoth Noureddin,\n\"I am both looker-on and buyer. Wilt thou sell me yonder\nslave-girl for sixteen hundred dinars?\" And he pulled out the\npurse of gold. So the dealer returned, dancing and clapping his\nhands and saying, \"So be it, so be it, or not [at all]!\" Then he\ncame to the damsel and said to her, \"O Sitt el Milah, shall I\nsell thee to yonder young Damascene for sixteen hundred dinars?\"\nBut she answered, \"No,\" of shamefastness before her master and\nthe bystanders; whereupon the people of the bazaar and the\nslave-merchant departed, and Abou Nuwas and Ali Noureddin arose\nand went each his own way, whilst the damsel returned to her\nmaster's house, full of love for the young Damascene.\n\nWhen the night darkened on her, she called him to mind and her\nheart clave to him and sleep visited her not; and on this wise\nshe abode days and nights, till she sickened and abstained from\nfood. So her lord went in to her and said to her, \"O Sitt el\nMilah, how findest thou thyself?\" \"O my lord,\" answered she, \"I\nam dead without recourse and I beseech thee to bring me my\nshroud, so I may look on it before my death.\" Therewithal he went\nout from her, sore concerned for her, and betook himself to a\nfriend of his, a draper, who had been present on the day when the\ndamsel was cried [for sale]. Quoth his friend to him, \"Why do I\nsee thee troubled?\" And he answered, \"Sitt el Milah is at the\npoint of death and these three days she hath neither eaten nor\ndrunken. I questioned her to-day of her case and she said, 'O my\nlord, buy me a shroud, so I may look on it before my death.'\"\nQuoth the draper, \"Methinks nought ails her but that she is\nenamoured of the young Damascene and I counsel thee to mention\nhis name to her and avouch to her that he hath foregathered with\nthee on her account and is desirous of coming to thy house, so he\nmay hear somewhat of her singing. If she say, 'I reck not of him,\nfor there is that to do with me which distracteth me from the\nDamascene and from other than he,' know that she saith sooth\nconcerning her sickness; but, if she say to thee other than this,\nacquaint me therewith.'\"\n\nSo the man returned to his lodging and going in to his\nslave-girl, said to her, \"O Sitt el Milah, I went out on thine\noccasion and there met me the young man of Damascus, and he\nsaluted me and saluteth thee. Indeed, he seeketh to win thy\nfavour and would fain be a guest in our dwelling, so thou mayst\nlet him hear somewhat of thy singing.\" When she heard speak of\nthe young Damascene, she gave a sob, that her soul was like to\ndepart her body, and answered, saying, \"He knoweth my plight and\nis ware that these three days past I have eaten not nor drunken,\nand I beseech thee, O my lord, by the Great God, to accomplish\nthe stranger his due and bring him to my lodging and make excuse\nto him for me.\"\n\nWhen her master heard this, his reason fled for joy and he went\nto his friend the draper and said to him, \"Thou wast right in the\nmatter of the damsel, for that she is enamoured of the young\nDamascene; so how shall I do?\" Quoth the other, \"Go to the bazaar\nand when thou seest him, salute him and say to him, 'Indeed, thy\ndeparture the other day, without accomplishing thine occasion,\nwas grievous to me; so, if thou be still minded to buy the girl,\nI will abate thee an hundred dinars of that which thou badest for\nher, by way of hospitable entreatment of thee and making myself\nagreeable to thee; for that thou art a stranger in our land.' If\nhe say to thee, 'I have no desire for her' and hold off from\nthee, know that he will not buy; in which case, let me know, so I\nmay contrive thee another device; and if he say to thee other\nthan this, conceal not from me aught.\n\nSo the girl's owner betook himself to the bazaar, where he found\nthe youth seated at the upper end of the merchants' place of\nsession, selling and buying and taking and giving, as he were the\nmoon on the night of its full, and saluted him. The young man\nreturned his salutation and he said to him, \"O my lord, be not\nthou vexed at the girl's speech the other day, for her price\nshall be less than that [which thou badest], to the intent that I\nmay propitiate thy favour. If thou desire her for nought, I will\nsend her to thee, or if thou wouldst have me abate thee of her\nprice, I will well, for I desire nought but what shall content\nthee; for that thou art a stranger in our land and it behoveth us\nto entreat thee hospitably and have consideration for thee.\" \"By\nAllah,\" answered the youth, \"I will not take her from thee but at\nan advance on that which I bade thee for her aforetime; so wilt\nthou now sell her to me for seventeen hundred dinars?\" And the\nother answered,\" O my lord, I sell her to thee, may God bless\nthee in her.\"\n\nSo the young man went to his lodging and fetching a purse,\nreturned to the girl's owner and counted out to him the price\naforesaid, whilst the draper was between them. Then said he,\n\"Bring her forth;\" but the other answered, \"She cannot come forth\nat this present; but be thou my guest the rest of this day and\nnight, and on the morrow thou shall take thy slave-girl and go in\nthe protection of God.\" The youth fell in with him of this and he\ncarried him to his house, where, after a little, he let bring\nmeat and wine, and they [ate and] drank. Then said Noureddin to\nthe girl's owner, \"I beseech thee bring me the damsel, for that I\nbought her not but for the like of this time.\" So he arose and\n[going in to the girl], said to her, \"O Sitt el Milan, the young\nman hath paid down thy price and we have bidden him hither; so he\nhath come to our dwelling and we have entertained him, and he\nwould fain have thee be present with him.\"\n\nTherewithal the damsel rose briskly and putting off her clothes,\nwashed and donned sumptuous apparel and perfumed herself and went\nout to him, as she were a willow-wand or a bamboo-cane, followed\nby a black slave girl, bearing the lute. When she came to the\nyoung man, she saluted him and sat down by his side. Then she\ntook the lute from the slave-girl and tuning it, smote thereon in\nfour-and-twenty modes, after which she returned to the first mode\nand sang the following verses:\n\nUnto me the world's whole gladness is thy nearness and thy sight;\n     All incumbent thy possession and thy love a law of right.\nIn my tears I have a witness; when I call thee to my mind, Down\n     my cheeks they run like torrents, and I cannot stay their\n     flight.\nNone, by Allah, 'mongst all creatures, none I love save thee\n     alone! Yea, for I am grown thy bondman, by the troth betwixt\n     us plight.\nPeace upon thee! Ah, how bitter were the severance from thee! Be\n     not this thy troth-plight's ending nor the last of our\n     delight!\n\nTherewithal the young man was moved to delight and exclaimed, \"By\nAllah, thou sayest well, O Sitt el Milan! Let me hear more.\" Then\nhe handselled her with fifty dinars and they drank and the cups\nwent round among them; and her seller said to her, \"O Sitt el\nMilah, this is the season of leave-taking; so let us hear\nsomewhat on the subject.\" Accordingly she struck the lute and\navouching that which was in her heart, sang the following verses:\n\nI am filled full of longing pain and memory and dole, That from\n     the wasted body's wounds distract the anguished soul.\nThink not, my lords, that I forget: the case is still the same.\n     When such a fever fills the heart, what leach can make it\n     whole?\nAnd if a creature in his tears could swim, as in a sea, I to do\n     this of all that breathe were surely first and sole.\nO skinker of the wine of woe, turn from a love-sick maid, Who\n     drinks her tears still, night and morn, thy bitter-flavoured\n     bowl.\nI had not left you, had I known that severance would prove My\n     death; but what is past is past, Fate stoops to no control.\n\n\nAs they were thus in the enjoyment of all that in most delicious\nof easance and delight, and indeed the wine was sweet to them and\nthe talk pleasant, behold, there came a knocking at the door. So\nthe master of the house went out, that he might see what was to\ndo, and found ten men of the Khalif's eunuchs at the door. When\nhe saw this, he was amazed and said to them, \"What is to do?\"\nQuoth they, \"The Commander of the Faithful saluteth thee and\nrequireth of thee the slave-girl whom thou hast for sale and\nwhose name is Sitt el Milah.\" By Allah,\" answered the other, \"I\nhave sold her.\" And they said, \"Swear by the head of the\nCommander of the Faithful that she is not in thy dwelling.\" He\nmade oath that he had sold her and that she was no longer at his\ndisposal; but they paid no *need to his word and forcing their\nway into the house, found the damsel and the young Damascene in\nthe sitting-chamber. So they laid hands upon her, and the youth\nsaid, \"This is my slave-girl, whom I have bought with my money.\"\nBut they hearkened not to his speech and taking her, carried her\noff to the Commander of the Faithful.\n\nTherewithal Noureddin's life was troubled; so he arose and donned\nhis clothes, and his host said, \"Whither away this night, O my\nlord?\" Quoth Noureddin, \"I mean to go to my lodging, and\nto-morrow I will betake myself to the palace of the Commander of\nthe Faithful and demand my slave-girl.\" \"Sleep till the morning,\"\nsaid the other, \"and go not forth at the like of this hour.\" But\nhe answered, \"Needs must I go;\" and the host said to him, \"[Go]\nin the safeguard of God.\" So Noureddin went forth, and\ndrunkenness had got the mastery of him, wherefore he threw\nhimself down on [a bench before one of] the shops. Now the watch\nwere at that hour making their round and they smelt the sweet\nscent [of essences] and wine that exhaled from him; so they made\nfor it and found the youth lying on the bench, without sense or\nmotion. They poured water upon him, and he awoke, whereupon they\ncarried him to the house of the Chief of the Police and he\nquestioned him of his affair. \"O my lord,\" answered Noureddin, \"I\nam a stranger in this town and have been with one of my friends.\nSo I came forth from his house and drunkenness overcame me.\"\n\nThe prefect bade carry him to his lodging; but one of those in\nattendance upon him, by name El Muradi, said to him, \"What wilt\nthou do? This man is clad in rich clothes and on his finger is a\nring of gold, the beazel whereof is a ruby of great price; so we\nwill carry him away and slay him and take that which is upon him\nof raiment [and what not else] and bring it to thee; for that\nthou wilt not [often] see profit the like thereof, more by token\nthat this fellow is a stranger and there is none to enquire\nconcerning him.\" Quoth the prefect, \"This fellow is a thief and\nthat which he saith is leasing.\" And Noureddin said, \"God forbid\nthat I should be a thief!\" But the prefect answered, \"Thou\nliest.\" So they stripped him of his clothes and taking the ring\nfrom his finger, beat him grievously, what while he cried out for\nsuccour, but none succoured him, and besought protection, but\nnone protected him. Then said he to them, \"O folk, ye are quit\nof[FN#12] that which ye have taken from me; but now restore me to\nmy lodging.\" But they answered, saying, \"Leave this knavery, O\ncheat! Thine intent is to sue us for thy clothes on the morrow.\"\n\"By Allah, the One, the Eternal,\" exclaimed he, \"I will not sue\nany for them!\" But they said, \"We can nowise do this.\" And the\nprefect bade them carry him to the Tigris and there slay him and\ncast him into the river.\n\nSo they dragged him away, what while he wept and spoke the words\nwhich whoso saith shall nowise be confounded, to wit, \"There is\nno power and no virtue save in God the Most High, the Sublime!\"\nWhen they came to the Tigris, one of them drew the sword upon him\nand El Muradi said to the swordbearer, \"Smite off his head.\" But\none of them, Ahmed by name, said, \"O folk, deal gently with this\npoor wretch and slay him not unjustly and wickedly, for I stand\nin fear of God the Most High, lest He burn me with his fire.\"\nQuoth El Muradi, \"A truce to this talk!\" And Ahmed said, \"If ye\ndo with him aught, I will acquaint the Commander of the\nFaithful.\" \"How, then, shall we do with him?\" asked they; and he\nanswered, \"Let us deposit him in prison and I will be answerable\nto you for his provision; so shall we be quit of his blood, for\nindeed he is wrongfully used.\" So they took him up and casting\nhim into the Prison of Blood,[FN#13]went away.\n\nMeanwhile, they carried the damsel into the Commander of the\nFaithful and she pleased him; so he assigned her a lodging of the\napartments of choice. She abode in the palace, eating not neither\ndrinking and ceasing not from weeping night nor day, till, one\nnight, the Khalif sent for her to his sitting-chamber and said to\nher, \"O Sitt el Milah, be of good heart and cheerful eye, for I\nwill make thy rank higher than [any of] the concubines and thou\nshall see that which shall rejoice thee.\" She kissed the earth\nand wept; whereupon the Khalif called for her lute and bade her\nsing. So she improvised and sang the following verses, in\naccordance with that which was in her heart:\n\nSay, by the lightnings of thy teeth and thy soul's pure desire,\n     Moan'st thou as moan the doves and is thy heart for doubt on\n     fire?\nHow many a victim of the pangs of love-liking hath died! Tired is\n     my patience, but of blame my censors never tire.\n\nWhen she had made an end of her song, she cast the lute from her\nhand and wept till she swooned away, whereupon the Khalif bade\ncarry her to her chamber. Now he was ravished with her and loved\nher with an exceeding love; so, after awhile, he again commanded\nto bring her to his presence, and when she came, he bade her\nsing. Accordingly, she took the lute and spoke forth that which\nwas in her heart and sang the following verses:\n\nWhat strength have I solicitude and long desire to bear? Why art\n     thou purposed to depart and leave me to despair?\nWhy to estrangement and despite inclin'st thou with the spy? Yet\n     that a bough[FN#14] from side to side incline[FN#15] small\n     wonder 'twere.\nThou layst on me a load too great to bear, and thus thou dost But\n     that my burdens I may bind and so towards thee fare.\n\nThen she cast the lute from her hand and swooned away; so she was\ncarried to her chamber and indeed passion waxed upon her. After a\nlong while, the Commander of the Faithful sent for her a third\ntime and bade her sing. So she took the lute and sang the\nfollowing verses:\n\nO hills of the sands and the rugged piebald plain, Shall the\n     bondman of love win ever free from pain!\nI wonder, shall I and the friend who's far from me Once more be\n     granted of Fate to meet, we twain!\nBravo for a fawn with a houri's eye of black, Like the sun or the\n     shining moon midst the starry train!\nTo lovers, \"What see ye?\" he saith, and to hearts of stone, \"What\n     love ye,\" quoth he, \"[if to love me ye disdain?\"]\nI supplicate Him, who parted us and doomed Our separation, that\n     we may meet again.\n\nWhen she had made an end of her song, the Commander of the\nFaithful said to her, \"O damsel, thou art in love.\" \"Yes,\"\nanswered she. And he said, \"With whom?\" Quoth she, \"With my lord\nand my master, my love for whom is as the love of the earth for\nrain, or as the love of the female for the male; and indeed the\nlove of him is mingled with my flesh and my blood and hath\nentered into the channels of my bones. O Commander of the\nFaithful, whenas I call him to mind, mine entrails are consumed,\nfor that I have not accomplished my desire of him, and but that I\nfear to die, without seeing him, I would assuredly kill myself.\"\nAnd he said, \"Art thou in my presence and bespeakest me with the\nlike of these words? I will assuredly make thee forget thy lord.\"\n\nThen he bade take her away; so she was carried to her chamber and\nhe sent her a black slave-girl, with a casket, wherein were three\nthousand dinars and a carcanet of gold, set with pearls, great\nand small, and jewels, worth other three thousand, saying to her,\n\"The slave-girl and that which is with her are a gift from me to\nthee.\" When she heard this, she said, \"God forbid that I should\nbe consoled for the love of my lord and my master, though with\nthe earth full of gold!\" And she improvised and recited the\nfollowing verses:\n\nI swear by his life, yea, I swear by the life of my love without\n     peer, To please him or save him from hurt, I'd enter the\n     fire without fear!\n\"Console thou thyself for his love,\" quoth they, \"with another\n     than he;\" But, \"Nay, by his life,\" answered I, \"I'll never\n     forget him my dear!\"\nA moon is my love, in a robe of loveliness proudly arrayed, And\n     the splendours of new-broken day from his cheeks and his\n     forehead shine clear.\n\nThen the Khalif summoned her to his presence a fourth time and\nsaid to her, \"O Sitt el Milah, sing.\" So she improvised and sang\nthe following verses:\n\nTo his beloved one the lover's heart's inclined; His soul's a\n     captive slave, in sickness' hands confined.\n\"What is the taste of love?\" quoth one, and I replied, \"Sweet\n     water 'tis at first; but torment lurks behind.\"\nLove's slave, I keep my troth with them; but, when they vowed,\n     Fate made itself Urcoub,[FN#16] whom never oath could bind.\nWhat is there in the tents? Their burdens are become A lover's,\n     whose belov'd is in the litters' shrined.\nIn every halting-place like Joseph[FN#17] she appears And he in\n     every stead with Jacob's grief[FN#18] is pined.\n\nWhen she had made an end of her song, she threw the lute from her\nhand and wept till she swooned away. So they sprinkled on her\nrose-water, mingled with musk, and willow-flower water; and when\nshe came to herself, Er Reshid said to her, \"O Sitt el Milah,\nthis is not fair dealing in thee. We love thee and thou lovest\nanother.\" \"O Commander of the Faithful,\" answered she, \"there is\nno help for it.\" Therewithal he was wroth with her and said, \"By\nthe virtue of Hemzeh[FN#19] and Akil[FN#20] and Mohammed, Prince\nof the Apostles, if thou name one other than I in my presence, I\nwill bid strike off thy head!\" Then he bade return her to her\nchamber, whilst she wept and recited the following verses:\n\nIf I must die, then welcome death to heal My woes; 'twere lighter\n     than the pangs I feel.\nWhat if the sabre cut me limb from limb! No torment 'twere for\n     lovers true and leal.\n\nThen the Khalif went in to the Lady Zubeideh, pale with anger,\nand she noted this in him and said to him, \"How cometh it that I\nsee the Commander of the Faithful changed of colour?\" \"O daughter\nof my uncle,\" answered he, \"I have a beautiful slave-girl, who\nreciteth verses and telleth stories, and she hath taken my whole\nheart; but she loveth other than I and avoucheth that she loveth\nher [former] master; wherefore I have sworn a great oath that, if\nshe come again to my sitting-chamber and sing for other than I, I\nwill assuredly take a span from her highest part.\"[FN#21]Quoth\nZubeideh, \"Let the Commander of the Faithful favour me with her\npresence, so I may look on her and hear her singing.\" So he bade\nfetch her and she came, whereupon the Lady Zubeideh withdrew\nbehind the curtain, whereas she saw her not, and Er Reshid said\nto her, \"Sing to us.\" So she took the lute and tuning it, sang\nthe following verses:\n\nLo, since the day I left you, O my masters, Life is not sweet, no\n     aye my heart is light.\nYea, in the night the thought of you still slays me; Hidden are\n     my traces from the wise men's sight,\nAll for a wild deer's love, whose looks have snared me And on\n     whose brows the morning glitters bright\nI am become, for severance from my loved one, Like a left hand,\n     forsaken of the right.\nBeauty on his cheek hath written, \"Blest be Allah, He who created\n     this enchanting wight!\"\nHim I beseech our loves who hath dissevered, Us of his grace once\n     more to reunite.\n\nWhen Er Reshid heard this, he waxed exceeding wroth and said,\n\"May God not reunite you twain in gladness!\" Then he summoned the\nheadsman, and when he presented himself, he said to him, \"Strike\noff the head of this accursed slave-girl.\" So Mesrour took her by\nthe hand and [led her away; but], when she came to the door, she\nturned and said to the Khalif, \"O Commander of the Faithful, I\nconjure thee, by thy fathers and forefathers, give ear unto that\nI shall say!\" Then she improvised and recited the following\nverses:\n\nO Amir of justice, be kind to thy subjects; For justice, indeed,\n     of thy nature's a trait.\nO thou my inclining to love him that blamest, Shall lovers be\n     blamed for the errors of Fate?\nThen spare me, by Him who vouchsafed thee the kingship; For a\n     gift in this world is the regal estate.\n\nThen Mesrour carried her to the other end of the sitting-chamber\nand bound her eyes and making her sit, stood awaiting a second\ncommandment; whereupon quoth the Lady Zubeideh, \"O Commander of\nthe Faithful, with thy permission, wilt thou not vouchsafe this\ndamsel a share of thy clemency? Indeed, if thou slay her, it were\ninjustice.\" Quoth he, \"What is to be done with her?\" And she\nsaid, \"Forbear to slay her and send for her lord. If he be as she\ndescribeth him in grace and goodliness, she is excused, and if he\nbe not on this wise, then slay her, and this shall be thy\njustification against her.\"[FN#22]\n\n\"Be it as thou deemest,\" answered Er Reshid and caused return the\ndamsel to her chamber, saying to her, \"The Lady Zubeideh saith\nthus and thus.\" Quoth she, \"God requite her for me with good!\nIndeed, thou dealest equitably, O Commander of the Faithful, in\nthis judgment.\" And he answered, \"Go now to thy place, and\nto-morrow we will let bring thy lord.\" So she kissed the earth\nand recited the following verses:\n\nI am content, for him I love, to all abide; So, who will, let him\n     blame, and who will, let him chide.\nAt their appointed terms souls die; but for despair My soul is\n     like to die, or ere its term betide.\nO thou with love of whom I'm smitten, yet content, I prithee come\n     to me and hasten to my side.\n\nThen she arose and returned to her chamber.\n\nOn the morrow, the Commander of the Faithful sat [in his hall of\naudience] and his Vizier Jaafer ben Yehya the Barmecide came in\nto him; whereupon he called to him, saying, \"I would have thee\nbring me a youth who is lately come to Baghdad, hight [Sidi\nNoureddin Ali] the Damascene.\" Quoth Jaafer, \"Hearkening and\nobedience,\" and going forth in quest of the youth, sent to the\nmarkets and khans and caravanserais three days' space, but found\nno trace of him, neither lit upon tidings of him. So on the\nfourth day he presented himself before the Khalif and said to\nhim, \"O our lord, I have sought him these three days, but have\nnot found him.\" Quoth Er Reshid, \"Make ready letters to Damascus.\nBelike he hath returned to his own land.\" So Jaafer wrote a\nletter and despatched it by a dromedary-courier to the city of\nDamascus; and they sought him there and found him not.\n\nMeanwhile, news was brought that Khorassan had been\nconquered;[FN#23] whereupon Er Reshid rejoiced and bade decorate\nBaghdad and release all who were in the prisons, giving each of\nthem a dinar and a dress. So Jaafer addressed himself to the\ndecoration of the city and bade his brother El Fezl ride to the\nprison and clothe and release the prisoners. El Fezl did his\nbrother's bidding and released all but the young Damascene, who\nabode still in the Prison of Blood, saying, \"There is no power\nand no virtue save in God the Most High, the Sublime! Verily, we\nare God's and to Him we return.\" Then said El Fezl to the gaoler,\n\"Is there any prisoner left in the prison?\" \"No,\" answered he,\nand El Fezl was about to depart, when Noureddin called out to him\nfrom within the prison, saying, \"O my lord, tarry, for there\nremaineth none in the prison other than I and indeed I am\noppressed. This is a day of clemency and there is no disputing\nconcerning it.\" El Fezl bade release him; so they set him free\nand he gave him a dress and a dinar. So the young man went out,\nbewildered and knowing not whither he should go, for that he had\nabidden in the prison nigh a year and indeed his condition was\nchanged and his favour faded, and he abode walking and turning\nround, lest El Muradi should come upon him and cast him into\nanother calamity.\n\nWhen El Muradi heard of his release, he betook himself to the\nchief of the police and said to him, \"O our lord, we are not\nassured from yonder youth, [the Damascene], for that he hath been\nreleased from prison and we fear lest he complain of us.\" Quoth\nthe prefect, \"How shall we do?\" And El Muradi answered, saying,\n\"I will cast him into a calamity for thee.\" Then he ceased not to\nfollow the young Damascene from place to place till he came up\nwith him in a strait place and a by-street without an issue;\nwhereupon he accosted him and putting a rope about his neck,\ncried out, saying, \"A thief!\" The folk flocked to him from all\nsides and fell to beating and reviling Noureddin, whilst he cried\nout for succour, but none succoured him, and El Muradi still said\nto him, \"But yesterday the Commander of the Faithful released\nthee and to-day thou stealest!\" So the hearts of the folk were\nhardened against him and El Muradi carried him to the master of\npolice, who bade cut off his hand.\n\nAccordingly, the hangman took him and bringing out the knife,\noffered to cut off his hand, what while El Muradi said to him,\n\"Cut and sever the bone and sear[FN#24] it not for him, so he may\nlose his blood and we be rid of him.\" But Ahmed, he who had\naforetime been the means of his deliverance, sprang up to him and\nsaid, \"O folk, fear God in [your dealings with] this youth, for\nthat I know his affair from first to last and he is void of\noffence and guiltless. Moreover, he is of the folk of\ncondition,[FN#25] and except ye desist from him, I will go up to\nthe Commander of the Faithful and acquaint him with the case from\nfirst to last and that the youth is guiltless of crime or\noffence.\" Quoth El Muradi, \"Indeed, we are not assured from his\nmischief.\" And Ahmed answered, \"Release him and commit him to me\nand I will warrant you against his affair, for ye shall never see\nhim again after this.\" So they delivered Noureddin to him and he\ntook him from their hands and said to him, \"O youth, have\ncompassion on thyself, for indeed thou hast fallen into the hands\nof these folk twice and if they lay hold of thee a third time,\nthey will make an end of thee; and [in dealing thus with thee], I\naim at reward and recompense for thee[FN#26] and answered\nprayer.\"[FN#27]\n\nNoureddin fell to kissing his hand and calling down blessings on\nhim and said to him, \"Know that I am a stranger in this your city\nand the completion of kindness is better than the beginning\nthereof; wherefore I beseech thee of thy favour that thou\ncomplete to me thy good offices and kindness and bring me to the\ngate of the city. So will thy beneficence be accomplished unto me\nand may God the Most High requite thee for me with good!\" [\"Fear\nnot,\"] answered Ahmed; \"no harm shall betide thee. Go; I will\nbear thee company till thou come to thy place of assurance.\" And\nhe left him not till he brought him to the gate of the city and\nsaid to him, \"O youth, go in the safeguard of God and return not\nto the city; for, if they fall in with thee [again], they will\nmake an end of thee.\" Noureddin kissed his hand and going forth\nthe city, gave not over walking till he came to a mosque that\nstood in one of the suburbs of Baghdad and entered therein with\nthe night.\n\nNow he had with him nought wherewithal he might cover himself; so\nhe wrapped himself up in one of the rugs of the mosque [and abode\nthus till daybreak], when the Muezzins came and finding him\nsitting in that case, said to him, \"O youth, what is this\nplight?\" Quoth he, \"I cast myself on your hospitality, imploring\nyour protection from a company of folk who seek to kill me\nunjustly and oppressively, without cause.\" And [one of] the\nMuezzin[s] said, \"Be of good heart and cheerful eye.\" Then he\nbrought him old clothes and covered him withal; moreover, he set\nbefore him somewhat of meat and seeing upon him signs of gentle\nbreeding, said to him, \"O my son, I grow old and desire thee of\nhelp, [in return for which] I will do away thy necessity.\"\n\"Hearkening and obedience,\" answered Noureddin and abode with the\nold man, who rested and took his ease, what while the youth [did\nhis service in the mosque], celebrating the praises of God and\ncalling the faithful to prayer and lighting the lamps and filling\nthe ewers[FN#28] and sweeping and cleaning out the place.\n\nMeanwhile, the Lady Zubeideh, the wife of the Commander of the\nFaithful, made a banquet in her palace and assembled her\nslave-girls. As for Sitt el Milah, she came, weeping-eyed and\nmournful-hearted, and those who were present blamed her for this,\nwhereupon she recited the following verses:\n\nYe chide at one who weepeth for troubles ever new; Needs must th'\n     afflicted warble the woes that make him rue.\nExcept I be appointed a day [to end my pain], I'll weep until\n     mine eyelids with blood their tears ensue.\n\nWhen she had made an end of her verses, the Lady Zubeideh bade\neach damsel sing a song, till the turn came round to Sitt el\nMilah, whereupon she took the lute and tuning it, sang thereto\nfour-and-twenty songs in four-and-twenty modes; then she returned\nto the first mode and sang the following verses:\n\nFortune its arrows all, through him I love, let fly At me and\n     parted me from him for whom I sigh.\nLo, in my heart the heat of every heart burns high And in mine\n     eyes unite the tears of every eye.\n\nWhen she had made an end of her song, she wept till she made the\nbystanders weep and the Lady Zubeideh condoled with her and said\nto her, \"God on thee, O Sitt el Milah, sing us somewhat, so we\nmay hearken to thee.\" \"Hearkening and obedience,\" answered the\ndamsel and sang the following verses:\n\nAssemble, ye people of passion, I pray; For the hour of our\n     torment hath sounded to-day.\nThe raven of parting croaks loud at our door; Alas, for our raven\n     cleaves fast to us aye!\nFor those whom we cherish are parted and gone; They have left us\n     in torment to pine for dismay.\nSo arise, by your lives I conjure you, arise And come let us fare\n     to our loved ones away.\n\nThen she cast the lute from her hand and wept till she made the\nLady Zubeideh weep, and she said to her, \"O Sitt el Milah,\nmethinks he whom thou lovest is not in this world, for that the\nCommander of the Faithful hath sought him in every place, but\nhath not found him.\" Whereupon the damsel arose and kissing the\nLady Zubeideh's hands, said to her, \"O my lady, if thou wouldst\nhave him found, I have a request to make to thee, wherein thou\nmayst accomplish my occasion with the Commander of the Faithful.\"\nQuoth the princess, \"And what is it?\" \"It is,\" answered Sitt el\nMilah, \"that thou get me leave to go forth by myself and go round\nabout in quest of him three days, for the adage saith, 'She who\nmourneth for herself is not the like of her who is hired to\nmourn.'[FN#29] If I find him, I will bring him before the\nCommander of the Faithful, so he may do with us what he will; and\nif I find him not, I shall be cut off from hope of him and that\nwhich is with me will be assuaged.\" Quoth the Lady Zubeideh, \"I\nwill not get thee leave from him but for a whole month; so be of\ngood heart and cheerful eye.\" Whereupon Sitt el Milah was glad\nand rising, kissed the earth before her once more and went away\nto her own place, rejoicing.\n\nAs for Zubeideh, she went in to the Khalif and talked with him\nawhile; then she fell to kissing him between the eyes and on his\nhand and asked him that which she had promised Sitt el Milah,\nsaying, \"O Commander of the Faithful, I doubt me her lord is not\nfound in this world; but, if she go about in quest of him and\nfind him not, her hopes will be cut off and her mind will be set\nat rest and she will sport and laugh; for that, what while she\nabideth in hope, she will never cease from her frowardness.\" And\nshe gave not over cajoling him till he gave Sitt el Milah leave\nto go forth and make search for her lord a month's space and\nordered her an eunuch to attend her and bade the paymaster [of\nthe household] give her all she needed, were it a thousand\ndirhems a day or more. So the Lady Zubeideh arose and returning\nto her palace, sent for Sitt el Milah and acquainted her with\nthat which had passed [between herself and the Khalif]; whereupon\nshe kissed her hand and thanked her and called down blessings on\nher.\n\nThen she took leave of the princess and veiling her face,\ndisguised herself; [FN#30] after which she mounted the mule and\nsallying forth, went round about seeking her lord in the\nthoroughfares of Baghdad three days' space, but lit on no tidings\nof him; and on the fourth day, she rode forth without the city.\nNow it was the noontide hour and great was the heat, and she was\naweary and thirst waxed upon her. Presently, she came to the\nmosque, wherein the young Damascene had taken shelter, and\nlighting down at the door, said to the old man, [the Muezzin], \"O\nelder, hast thou a draught of cold water? Indeed, I am overcome\nwith heat and thirst.\" Quoth he, \"[Come up] with me into my\nhouse.\" So he carried her up into his lodging and spreading her\n[a carpet and cushions], seated her [thereon]; after which he\nbrought her cold water and she drank and said to the eunuch, \"Go\nthy ways with the mule and on the morrow come back to me here.\"\n[So he went away] and she slept and rested herself.\n\nWhen she awoke, she said to the old man, \"O elder, hast thou\naught of food?\" And he answered, \"O my lady, I have bread and\nolives.\" Quoth she, \"That is food fit but for the like of thee.\nAs for me, I will have nought but roast lamb and broths and fat\nrissoled fowls and stuffed ducks and all manner meats dressed\nwith [pounded nuts and almond-]kernels and sugar.\" \"O my lady,\"\nreplied the Muezzin, \"I never heard of this chapter in the Koran,\nnor was it revealed unto our lord Mohammed, whom God bless and\nkeep!\"[FN#31] She laughed and said, \"O elder, the matter is even\nas thou sayest; but bring me inkhorn and paper.\" So he brought\nher what she sought and she wrote a letter and gave it to him,\ntogether with a seal-ring from her finger, saying, \"Go into the\ncity and enquire for such an one the money-changer and give him\nthis my letter.\"\n\nThe old man betook himself to the city, as she bade him, and\nenquired for the money-changer, to whom they directed him. So he\ngave him the ring and the letter, which when he saw, he kissed\nthe letter and breaking it open, read it and apprehended its\npurport. Then he repaired to the market and buying all that she\nbade him, laid it in a porter's basket and bade him go with the\nold man. So the latter took him and went with him to the mosque,\nwhere he relieved him of his burden and carried the meats in to\nSitt el Milah. She seated him by her side and they ate, he and\nshe, of those rich meats, till they were satisfied, when the old\nman rose and removed the food from before her.\n\nShe passed the night in his lodging and when she arose in the\nmorning, she said to him, \"O elder, may I not lack thy kind\noffices for the morning-meal! Go to the money-changer and fetch\nme from him the like of yesterday's food.\" So he arose and\nbetaking himself to the money-changer, acquainted him with that\nwhich she had bidden him. The money-changer brought him all that\nshe required and set it on the heads of porters; and the old man\ntook them and returned with them to Sitt el Milah. So she sat\ndown with him and they ate their sufficiency, after which he\nremoved the rest of the food. Then she took the fruits and the\nflowers and setting them over against herself, wrought them into\nrings and knots and letters, whilst the old man looked on at a\nthing whose like he had never in his life seen and rejoiced\ntherein.\n\nThen said she to him, \"O elder, I would fain drink.\" So he arose\nand brought her a gugglet of water; but she said to him, \"Who\nbade thee fetch that?\" Quoth he, \"Saidst thou not to me, 'I would\nfain drink'?\" And she answered, \"I want not this; nay, I want\nwine, the delight of the soul, so haply, O elder, I may solace\nmyself therewith.\" \"God forbid,\" exclaimed the old man, \"that\nwine should be drunk in my house, and I a stranger in the land\nand a Muezzin and an imam,[FN#32] who prayeth with the\ntrue-believers, and a servant of the house of the Lord of the\nWorlds! \"Quoth she, \"Why wilt thou forbid me to drink thereof in\nthy house?\" \"Because,\" answered he, \"it is unlawful.\" \"O elder,\"\nrejoined she, \"God hath forbidden [the eating of] blood and\ncarrion and hog's flesh. Tell me, are grapes and honey lawful or\nunlawful?\" Quoth he, \"They are lawful;\" and she said, \"This is\nthe juice of grapes and the water of honey.\" But he answered,\n\"Leave this thy talk, for thou shall never drink wine in my\nhouse.\" \"O Sheikh,\" rejoined she, \"folk eat and drink and enjoy\nthemselves and we are of the number of the folk and God is very\nforgiving, clement.\"[FN#33] Quoth he, \"This is a thing that may\nnot be.\" And she said, \"Hast thou not heard what the poet saith\n... ?\" And she recited the following verses:\n\nO son of Simeon, give no ear to other than my say. How bitter\n     from the convent 'twas to part and fare away!\nAy, and the monks, for on the Day of Palms a fawn there was Among\n     the servants of the church, a loveling blithe and gay.\nBy God, how pleasant was the night we passed, with him for third!\n     Muslim and Jew and Nazarene, we sported till the day.\nThe wine was sweet to us to drink in pleasance and repose, And in\n     a garden of the garths of Paradise we lay,\nWhose streams beneath the myrtle's shade and cassia's welled\n     amain And birds made carol jubilant from every blossomed\n     spray.\nQuoth he, what while from out his hair the morning glimmered\n     white, \"This, this is life indeed, except, alas! it doth not\n     stay.\"\n\n\"O elder,\" added she, \"if Muslims and Jews and Nazarenes drink\nwine, who are we [that we should abstain from it]?\" \"By Allah, O\nmy lady,\" answered he, \"spare thine endeavour, for this is a\nthing to which I will not hearken.\" When she knew that he would\nnot consent to her desire, she said to him, \"O elder, I am of the\nslave-girls of the Commander of the Faithful and the food waxeth\non me[FN#34] and if I drink not, I shall perish,[FN#35] nor wilt\nthou be assured against the issue of my affair. As for me, I am\nquit of blame towards thee, for that I have made myself known to\nthee and have bidden thee beware of the wrath of the Commander of\nthe Faithful.\"\n\nWhen the old man heard her words and that wherewith she menaced\nhim, he arose and went out, perplexed and knowing not what he\nshould do, and there met him a Jew, who was his neighbour, and\nsaid to him, \"O Sheikh, how cometh it that I see thee strait of\nbreast? Moreover, I hear in thy house a noise of talk, such as I\nuse not to hear with thee.\" Quoth the Muezzin, \"Yonder is a\ndamsel who avoucheth that she is of the slave-girls of the\nCommander of the Faithful Haroun er Reshid; and she hath eaten\nfood and now would fain drink wine in my house, but I forbade\nher. However she avoucheth that except she drink thereof, she\nwill perish, and indeed I am bewildered concerning my affair.\"\n\"Know, O my neighbour,\" answered the Jew, \"that the slave-girls\nof the Commander of the Faithful are used to drink wine, and\nwhenas they eat and drink not, they perish; and I fear lest some\nmishap betide her, in which case thou wouldst not be safe from\nthe Khalifs wrath.\" \"What is to be done?\" asked the Sheikh; and\nthe Jew replied, \"I have old wine that will suit her.\" Quoth the\nold man, \"[I conjure thee] by the right of neighbourship, deliver\nme from this calamity and let me have that which is with thee!\"\n\"In the name of God,\" answered the Jew and going to his house,\nbrought out a flagon of wine, with which the Sheikh returned to\nSitt el Milah. This pleased her and she said to him, \"Whence\nhadst thou this?\" \"I got it from my neighbour the Jew,\" answered\nhe. \"I set out to him my case with thee and he gave me this.\"\n\nSitt el Milah filled a cup and emptied it; after which she drank\na second and a third. Then she filled the cup a fourth time and\nhanded it to the old man, but he would not accept it from her.\nHowever, she conjured him, by her own head and that of the\nCommander of the Faithful, that he should take it from her, till\nhe took the cup from her hand and kissed it and would have set it\ndown; but she conjured him by her life to smell it. So he smelt\nit and she said to him, \"How deemest thou?\" \"Its smell is sweet,\"\nreplied he; and she conjured him, by the life of the Commander of\nthe Faithful, to taste it. So he put it to his mouth and she rose\nto him and made him drink; whereupon, \"O princess of the fair,\"\nsaid he, \"this is none other than good.\" Quoth she, \"So deem I.\nHath not our Lord promised us wine in Paradise?\" And he answered,\n\"Yes. Quoth the Most High, 'And rivers of wine, a delight to the\ndrinkers.'[FN#36] And we will drink it in this world and the\nworld to come.\" She laughed and emptying the cup, gave him to\ndrink, and he said, \"O princess of the fair, indeed thou art\nexcusable in thy love for this.\" Then he took from her another\nand another, till he became drunken and his talk waxed great and\nhis prate.\n\nThe folk of the quarter heard him and assembled under the window;\nand when he was ware of them, he opened the window and said to\nthem, \"Are ye not ashamed, O pimps? Every one in his own house\ndoth what he will and none hindereth him; but we drink one poor\nday and ye assemble and come, cuckoldy varlets that ye are!\nTo-day, wine, and to-morrow [another] matter; and from hour to\nhour [cometh] relief.\" So they laughed and dispersed. Then the\ngirl drank till she was intoxicated, when she called to mind her\nlord and wept, and the old man said to her, \"What maketh thee\nweep, O my lady?\" \"O elder,\" replied she, \"I am a lover and\nseparated [from him I love].\" Quoth he, \"O my lady, what is this\nlove?\" \"And thou,\" asked she, \"hast thou never been in love?\" \"By\nAllah, O my lady,\" answered he, \"never in all my life heard I of\nthis thing, nor have I ever known it! Is it of the sons of Adam\nor of the Jinn?\" She laughed and said, \"Verily, thou art even as\nthose of whom the poet speaketh, when as he saith ...\" And she\nrepeated the following verses:\n\nHow long will ye admonished be, without avail or heed? The\n     shepherd still his flocks forbids, and they obey his rede.\nI see yon like unto mankind in favour and in form; But\n     oxen,[FN#37] verily, ye are in fashion and in deed.\n\n\nThe old man laughed at her speech and her verses pleased him.\nThen said she to him, \"I desire of thee a lute.\"[FN#38] So he\narose and brought her a piece of firewood. Quoth she, \"What is\nthat?\" And he said, \"Didst thou not bid me bring thee wood?\" \"I\ndo not want this,\" answered she, and he rejoined, \"What then is\nit that is called wood, other than this?\" She laughed and said,\n\"The lute is an instrument of music, whereunto I sing.\" Quoth he,\n\"Where is this thing found and of whom shall I get it for thee?\"\nAnd she said, \"Of him who gave thee the wine.\" So he arose and\nbetaking himself to his neighbour the Jew, said to him, \"Thou\nfavouredst us aforetime with the wine; so now complete thy\nfavours and look me out a thing called a lute, to wit, an\ninstrument for singing; for that she seeketh this of me and I\nknow it not\" \"Hearkening and obedience,\" replied the Jew and\ngoing into his house, brought him a lute. [The old man took it\nand carried it to Sitt el Milah,] whilst the Jew took his drink\nand sat by a window adjoining the other's house, so he might hear\nthe singing.\n\nThe damsel rejoiced, when the old man returned to her with the\nlute, and taking it from him, tuned its strings and sang the\nfollowing verses:\n\nAfter your loss, nor trace of me nor vestige would remain, Did\n     not the hope of union some whit my strength sustain.\nYe're gone and desolated by your absence is the world: Requital,\n     ay, or substitute to seek for you 'twere vain.\nYe, of your strength, have burdened me, upon my weakliness, With\n     burdens not to be endured of mountain nor of plain.\nWhen from your land the breeze I scent that cometh, as I were A\n     reveller bemused with wine, to lose my wits I'm fain.\nLove no light matter is, O folk, nor are the woe and care And\n     blame a little thing to brook that unto it pertain.\nI wander seeking East and West for you, and every time Unto a\n     camp I come, I'm told, \"They've fared away again.\"\nMy friends have not accustomed me to rigour; for, of old, When I\n     forsook them, they to seek accord did not disdain.\n\nWhen she had made an end of her song, she wept sore, till\npresently sleep overcame her and she slept.\n\nOn the morrow, she said to the old man, \"Get thee to the\nmoney-changer and fetch me the ordinary.\" So he repaired to the\nmoney-changer and delivered him the message, whereupon he made\nready meat and drink, as of his wont, [with which the old man\nreturned to the damsel and they ate till they had enough. When\nshe had eaten,] she sought of him wine and he went to the Jew and\nfetched it. Then they sat down and drank; and when she grew\ndrunken, she took the lute and smiting it, fell a-singing and\nchanted the following verses:\n\nHow long shall I thus question my heart that's drowned in woe?\n     I'm mute for my complaining; but tears speak, as they flow.\nThey have forbid their image to visit me in sleep; So even my\n     nightly phantom forsaketh me, heigho!\n\nAnd when she had made an end of her song, she wept sore.\n\nAll this time, the young Damascene was hearkening, and whiles he\nlikened her voice to that of his slave-girl and whiles he put\naway from him this thought, and the damsel had no whit of\nknowledge of him. Then she broke out again into song and chanted\nthe following verses:\n\n\"Forget him,\" quoth my censurers, \"forget him; what is he?\" \"If I\n     forget him, ne'er may God,\" quoth I, \"remember me!\"\nNow God forbid a slave forget his liege lord's love! And how Of\n     all things in the world should I forget the love of thee?\nPardon of God for everything I crave, except thy love, For on the\n     day of meeting Him, that will my good deed be.\n\nThen she drank three cups and filling the old man other three,\nsang the following verses:\n\nHis love he'd have hid, but his tears denounced him to the spy,\n     For the heat of a red-hot coal that 'twixt his ribs did lie.\nSuppose for distraction he seek in the Spring and its blooms one\n     day, The face of his loved one holds the only Spring for his\n     eye.\nO blamer of me for the love of him who denieth his grace, Which\n     be the delightsome of things, but those which the people\n     deny?\nA sun [is my love;] but his heat in mine entrails still rageth,\n     concealed; A moon, in the hearts of the folk he riseth, and\n     not in the sky.\n\nWhen she had made an end of her song, she threw the lute from her\nhand and wept, whilst the old man wept for her weeping. Then she\nfell down in a swoon and presently coming to herself, filled the\ncup and drinking it off, gave the old man to drink, after which\nshe took the lute and breaking out into song, chanted the\nfollowing verses:\n\nThy loss is the fairest of all my heart's woes; My case it hath\n     altered and banished repose.\nThe world is upon me all desolate grown. Alack, my long grief and\n     forlornness! Who knows\nBut the Merciful yet may incline thee to me And unite us again,\n     in despite of our foes!\n\nThen she wept till her voice rose high and her lamentation was\ndiscovered [to those without]; after which she again began to\ndrink and plying the old man with wine, sang the following\nverses:\n\nThey have shut out thy person from my sight; They cannot shut thy\n     memory from my spright.\nFavour or flout me, still my soul shall be Thy ransom, in\n     contentment or despite.\nMy outward of my inward testifies And this bears witness that\nthat tells aright.[FN#39]\n\nWhen she had made an end of her song, she threw the lute from her\nhand and wept and lamented. Then she slept awhile and presently\nawaking, said, \"O elder, hast thou what we may eat?\" \"O my lady,\"\nanswered the old man, \"there is the rest of the food;\" but she\nsaid, \"I will not eat of a thing I have left. Go down to the\nmarket and fetch us what we may eat.\" Quoth he, \"Excuse me, O my\nlady; I cannot stand up, for that I am overcome with wine; but\nwith me is the servant of the mosque, who is a sharp youth and an\nintelligent. I will call him, so he may buy thee that which thou\ndesirest.\" \"Whence hast thou this servant?\" asked she; and he\nreplied, \"He is of the people of Damascus.\" When she heard him\nspeak of the people of Damascus, she gave a sob, that she swooned\naway; and when she came to herself, she said, \"Woe's me for the\npeople of Damascus and for those who are therein! Call him, O\nelder, that he may do our occasions.\"\n\nSo the old man put his head forth of the window and called the\nyouth, who came to him from the mosque and sought leave [to\nenter]. The Muezzin bade him enter, and when he came in to the\ndamsel, he knew her and she knew him; whereupon he turned back in\nbewilderment and would have fled; but she sprang up to him and\nseized him, and they embraced and wept together, till they fell\ndown on the ground in a swoon. When the old man saw them in this\nplight, he feared for himself and fled forth, seeing not the way\nfor drunkenness. His neighbour the Jew met him and said to him,\n\"How comes it that I see thee confounded?\" \"How should I not be\nconfounded,\" answered the old man, \"seeing that the damsel who is\nwith me is fallen in love with the servant of the mosque and they\nhave embraced and fallen down in a swoon? Indeed, I fear lest the\nKhalif come to know of this and be wroth with me; so tell me thou\nwhat is to be done in this wherewith I am afflicted of the affair\nof this damsel.\" Quoth the Jew, \"For the nonce, take this\ncasting-bottle of rose-water and go forth-right and sprinkle them\ntherewith. If they be aswoon for this their foregathering and\nembracement, they will come to themselves, and if otherwise, do\nthou flee.\"\n\nThe old man took the casting-bottle from the Jew and going up to\nNoureddin and the damsel, sprinkled their faces, whereupon they\ncame to themselves and fell to relating to each other that which\nthey had suffered, since their separation, for the anguish of\nseverance. Moreover, Noureddin acquainted Sitt el Milah with that\nwhich he had endured from the folk who would have slain him and\nmade away with him; and she said to him, \"O my lord, let us\npresently give over this talk and praise God for reunion of\nloves, and all this shall cease from us.\" Then she gave him the\ncup and he said, \"By Allah, I will nowise drink it, whilst I am\nin this plight!\" So she drank it off before him and taking the\nlute, swept the strings and sang the following verses:\n\nThou that wast absent from my stead, yet still with me didst\n     bide, Thou wast removed from mine eye, yet still wast by my\n     side.\nThou left'st unto me, after thee, languor and carefulness; I\n     lived a life wherein no jot of sweetness I espied.\nFor thy sweet sake, as 'twere, indeed, an exile I had been, Lone\n     and deserted I became, lamenting, weeping-eyed.\nAlack, my grief! Thou wast, indeed, grown absent from my yiew,\n     Yet art the apple of mine eye nor couldst from me divide.\n\nWhen she had made an end of her song, she wept and Noureddin wept\nalso. Then she took the lute and improvised and sang the\nfollowing verses:\n\nGod knows I ne'er recalled thy memory to my thought, But still\n     with brimming tears straightway mine eyes were fraught;\nYea, passion raged in me and love-longing was like To slay me;\n     yet my heart to solace still it wrought.\nLight of mine eyes, my hope, my wish, my thirsting eyes With\n     looking on thy face can never sate their drought.\n\nWhen Noureddin heard these his slave-girl's verses, he fell\na-weeping, what while she strained him to her bosom and wiped\naway his tears with her sleeve and questioned him and comforted\nhis mind. Then she took the lute and sweeping its strings, played\nthereon, after such a wise as would move the phlegmatic to\ndelight, and sang the following verses:\n\nWhenas mine eyes behold thee not, that day As of my life I do not\n     reckon aye;\nAnd when I long to look upon thy face, My life is perished with\n     desire straightway.\n\nOn this wise they abode till the morning, tasting not the savour\nof sleep; and when the day lightened, behold, the eunuch came\nwith the mule and said to Sitt el Milah, \"The Commander of the\nFaithful calleth for thee.\" So she arose and taking her lord by\nthe hand, committed him to the old man, saying, \"I commend him to\nthy care, under God,[FN#40] till this eunuch cometh to thee; and\nindeed, O elder, I owe thee favour and largesse such as filleth\nthe interspace betwixt heaven and earth.\"\n\nThen she mounted the mule and repairing to the palace of the\nCommander of the Faithful, went in to him and kissed the earth\nbefore him. Quoth he to her, as who should make mock of her, \"I\ndoubt not but thou hast found thy lord.\" \"By thy felicity and the\nlength of thy continuance [on life,]\" answered she, \"I have\nindeed found him!\" Now Er Reshid was leaning back; but, when he\nheard this, he sat up and said to her, \"By my life, [is this thou\nsayest] true?\" \"Ay, by thy life!\" answered she; and he said,\n\"Bring him into my presence, so I may see him.\" But she replied,\n\"O my lord, there have betided him many stresses and his charms\nare changed and his favour faded; and indeed the Commander of the\nFaithful vouchsafed me a month; wherefore I will tend him the\nrest of the month and then bring him to do his service to the\nCommander of the Faithful.\" Quoth Er Reshid, \"True; the condition\nwas for a month; but tell me what hath betided him.\" \"O my lord,\"\nanswered she, \"may God prolong thy continuance and make Paradise\nthy place of returning and thy harbourage and the fire the\nabiding-place of thine enemies, when he presenteth himself to pay\nhis respects to thee, he will expound to thee his case and will\nname unto thee those who have wronged him; and indeed this is an\narrear that is due to the Commander of the Faithful, in[FN#41]\nwhom may God fortify the Faith and vouchsafe him the mastery over\nthe rebel and the froward!\"\n\nTherewithal he ordered her a handsome house and bade furnish it\nwith carpets and other furniture and vessels of choice and\ncommanded that all she needed should be given her. This was done\nduring the rest of the day, and when the night came, she\ndespatched the eunuch with the mule and a suit of clothes, to\nfetch Noureddin from the Muezzin's lodging. So the young man\ndonned the clothes and mounting; rode to the house, where he\nabode in luxury and delight a full-told month, what while she\nsolaced him with four things, to wit, the eating of fowls and the\ndrinking of wine and the lying upon brocade and the entering the\nbath after copulation. Moreover, she brought him six suits of\nclothes and fell to changing his apparel day by day; nor was the\nappointed time accomplished ere his beauty returned to him and\nhis goodliness; nay, his charms waxed tenfold and he became a\nravishment to all who looked on him.\n\nOne day the Commander of the Faithful bade bring him to the\npresence; so his slave-girl changed his raiment and clothing him\nin sumptuous apparel, mounted him on the mule. Then he rode to\nthe palace and presenting himself before the Khalif, saluted him\nwith the goodliest of salutations and bespoke him with eloquent\nand deep-thoughted speech. When Er Reshid saw him, he marvelled\nat the goodliness of his favour and his eloquence and the\nreadiness of his speech and enquiring of him, was told that he\nwas Sitt el Milah's lord; whereupon quoth he, \"Indeed, she is\nexcusable in her love for him, and if we had put her to death\nunrighteously, as we were minded to do, her blood would have been\nupon our heads.\" Then he turned to the young man and entering\ninto discourse with him, found him well bred, intelligent, quick\nof wit and apprehension, generous, pleasant, elegant, erudite. So\nhe loved him with an exceeding love and questioned him of his\nnative city and of his father and of the manner of his journey to\nBaghdad. Noureddin acquainted him with that which he would know\nin the goodliest of words and with the concisest of expressions;\nand the Khalif said to him, \"And where hast thou been absent all\nthis while? Indeed, we sent after thee to Damascus and Mosul and\nother the towns, but lit on no tidings of thee.\" \"O my lord,\"\nanswered the young man, \"there betided thy slave in thy city that\nwhich never yet betided any.\" And he acquainted him with his case\nfrom first to last and told him that which had befallen him of\nevil [from El Muradi and his crew].\n\nWhen Er Reshid heard this, he was sore chagrined and waxed\nexceeding wroth and said, \"Shall this happen in a city wherein I\nam?\" And the Hashimi vein[FN#42] started out between his eyes.\nThen he bade fetch Jaafer, and when he came before him, he\nacquainted him with the matter and said to him, \"Shall this come\nto pass in my city and I have no news of it?\" Then he bade Jaafer\nfetch all whom the young Damascene had named [as having\nmaltreated him], and when they came, he let smite off their\nheads. Moreover, he summoned him whom they called Ahmed and who\nhad been the means of the young man's deliverance a first time\nand a second, and thanked him and showed him favour and bestowed\non him a sumptuous dress of honour and invested him with the\ngovernance over his city.[FN#43]\n\nThen he sent for the old man, the Muezzin, and when the messenger\ncame to him and told him that the Commander of the Faithful\nsought him, he feared the denunciation of the damsel and\naccompanied him to the palace, walking and letting wind[FN#44] as\nhe went, whilst all who passed him by laughed at him. When he\ncame into the presence of the Commander of the Faithful, he fell\na-trembling and his tongue was embarrassed, [so that he could not\nspeak]. The Khalif laughed at him and said to him, \"O elder, thou\nhast done no offence; so [why] fearest thou?\" \"O my lord,\"\nanswered the old man (and indeed he was in the sorest of that\nwhich may be of fear,) \"by the virtue of thy pure forefathers,\nindeed I have done nought, and do thou enquire of my conduct.\"\nThe Khalif laughed at him and ordering him a thousand dinars,\nbestowed on him a sumptuous dress of honour and made him chief of\nthe Muezzins in his mosque.\n\nThen he called Sitt el Milah and said to her, \"The house [wherein\nthou lodgest] and that which is therein Is a guerdon [from me] to\nthy lord. So do thou take him and depart with him in the\nsafeguard of God the Most High; but absent not yourselves from\nour presence.\" [So she went forth with Noureddin and] when she\ncame to the house, she found that the Commander of the Faithful\nhad sent them gifts galore and abundance of good things. As for\nNoureddin, he sent for his father and mother and appointed him\nagents and factors in the city of Damascus, to take the rent of\nthe houses and gardens and khans and baths; and they occupied\nthemselves with collecting that which accrued to him and sending\nit to him every year. Meanwhile, his father and mother came to\nhim, with that which they had of monies and treasures and\nmerchandise, and foregathering with their son, saw that he was\nbecome of the chief officers of the Commander of the Faithful and\nof the number of his session-mates and entertainers, wherefore\nthey rejoiced in reunion with him and he also rejoiced in them.\n\nThe Khalif assigned them pensions and allowances and as for\nNoureddin, his father brought him those riches and his wealth\nwaxed and his case was goodly, till he became the richest of the\nfolk of his time in Baghdad and left not the presence of the\nCommander of the Faithful night or day. Moreover, he was\nvouchsafed children by Sitt el Milah, and he ceased not to live\nthe most delightsome of lives, he and she and his father and\nmother, a while of time, till Aboulhusn sickened of a sore\nsickness and was admitted to the mercy of God the Most High.\nAfter awhile, his mother died also and he carried them forth and\nshrouded them and buried and made them expiations and\nnativities.[FN#45] Then his children grew up and became like unto\nmoons, and he reared them in splendour and fondness, what while\nhis wealth waxed and his case flourished. He ceased not to pay\nfrequent visits to the Commander of the Faithful, he and his\nchildren and his slave-girl Sitt el Milah, and they abode, he and\nthey, in all solace of life and prosperity till there came to\nthem the Destroyer of Delights and the Sunderer of Companies; and\nextolled be the perfection of the Abiding One, the Eternal! This\nis all that hath come down to us of their story.\n\n\n\n\n\n              EL ABBAS AND THE KING'S DAUGHTER OF\n                        BAGHDAD.[FN#46]\n\n\n\nThere was once, of old days and in bygone ages and times, in the\ncity of Baghdad, the Abode of Peace, a king mighty of estate,\nlord of understanding and beneficence and liberality and\ngenerosity, and he was strong of sultanate and endowed with might\nand majesty and magnificence. His name was Ins ben Cais ben\nRebiya es Sheibani,[FN#47] and when he took horse, there rode\nunto him [warriors] from the farthest parts of the two\nIraks.[FN#48] God the Most High decreed that he should take to\nwife a woman hight Afifeh, daughter of Ased es Sundusi, who was\nendowed with beauty and grace and brightness and perfection and\njustness of shape and symmetry; her face was like unto the new\nmoon and she had eyes as they were gazelle's eyes and an aquiline\nnose like the crescent moon. She had learned horsemanship and the\nuse of arms and had thoroughly studied the sciences of the Arabs;\nmoreover, she had gotten by heart all the dragomanish[FN#49]\ntongues and indeed she was a ravishment to mankind.\n\nShe abode with Ins ben Cais twelve years, during which time he\nwas blessed with no children by her; wherefore his breast was\nstraitened, by reason of the failure of lineage, and he besought\nhis Lord to vouchsafe him a child. Accordingly the queen\nconceived, by permission of God the Most High; and when the days\nof her pregnancy were accomplished, she gave birth to a\nmaid-child, than whom never saw eyes a goodlier, for that her\nface was as it were a pure pearl or a shining lamp or a\ngolden[FN#50] candle or a full moon breaking forth of a cloud,\nextolled be the perfection of Him who created her from vile\nwater[FN#51] and made her a delight to the beholders! When her\nfather saw her on this wise of loveliness, his reason fled for\njoy, and when she grew up, he taught her the art of writing and\npolite letters[FN#52] and philosophy and all manner of tongues.\nSo she excelled the folk of her time and overpassed her\npeers;[FN#53] and the sons of the kings heard of her and all of\nthem desired to look upon her.\n\nThe first who sought her in marriage was King Nebhan of Mosul,\nwho came to her with a great company, bringing with him an\nhundred she-camels laden with musk and aloes-wood and ambergris\nand as many laden with camphor and jewels and other hundred laden\nwith silver money and yet other hundred laden with raiment of\nsilken and other stuffs and brocade, besides an hundred\nslave-girls and an hundred magnificent horses of swift and\ngenerous breeds, completely housed and accoutred, as they were\nbrides; and all this he laid before her father, demanding her of\nhim in marriage. Now King Ins ben Cais had bound himself by an\noath that he would not marry his daughter but to him whom she\nshould choose; so, when King Nebhan sought her in marriage, her\nfather went in to her and consulted her concerning his affair.\nShe consented not and he repeated to Nebhan that which she said,\nwhereupon he departed from him. After this came King Behram, lord\nof the White Island, with riches more than the first; but she\naccepted not of him and he returned, disappointed; nor did the\nkings give over coming to her father, on her account, one after\nother, from the farthest of the lands and the climes, each\nglorying in more[FN#54] than those who forewent him; but she paid\nno heed unto any of one them.\n\nPresently, El Abbas, son of King El Aziz, lord of the land of\nYemen and Zebidoun[FN#55] and Mecca (which God increase in honour\nand brightness and beauty!), heard of her; and he was of the\ngreat ones of Mecca and the Hejaz[FN#56] and was a youth without\nhair on his cheeks. So he presented himself one day in his\nfather's sitting-chamber,[FN#57] whereupon the folk made way for\nhim and the king seated him on a chair of red gold, set with\npearls and jewels. The prince sat, with his head bowed to the\nground, and spoke not to any; whereby his father knew that his\nbreast was straitened and bade the boon-companions and men of wit\nrelate marvellous histories, such as beseem the assemblies of\nkings; nor was there one of them but spoke forth the goodliest of\nthat which was with him; but El Abbas still abode with his head\nbowed down. Then the king bade his session-mates withdraw, and\nwhen the chamber was void, he looked at his son and said to him,\n\"By Allah, thou rejoicest me with thy coming in to me and\nchagrinest me for that thou payest no heed to any of the\nsession-mates nor of the boon-companions. What is the cause of\nthis?\"\n\n\"O father mine,\" answered the prince, \"I have heard tell that in\nthe land of Irak is a woman of the daughters of the kings, and\nher father is called King Ins ben Cais, lord of Baghdad; she is\nrenowned for beauty and grace and brightness and perfection, and\nindeed many folk have sought her in marriage of the kings; but\nher soul consented not unto any one of them. Wherefore I am\nminded to travel to her, for that my heart cleaveth unto her, and\nI beseech thee suffer me to go to her.\" \"O my son,\" answered his\nfather, \"thou knowest that I have none other than thyself of\nchildren and thou art the solace of mine eyes and the fruit of\nmine entrails; nay, I cannot brook to be parted from thee an\ninstant and I purpose to set thee on the throne of the kingship\nand marry thee to one of the daughters of the kings, who shall be\nfairer than she.\" El Abbas gave ear to his father's word and\ndared not gainsay him; so he abode with him awhile, whilst the\nfire raged in his entrails.\n\nThen the king took counsel with himself to build his son a bath\nand adorn it with various paintings, so he might show it to him\nand divert him with the sight thereof, to the intent that his\nbody might be solaced thereby and that the obsession of travel\nmight cease from him and he be turned from [his purpose of]\nremoval from his parents. So he addressed himself to the building\nof the bath and assembling architects and builders and artisans\nfrom all the towns and citadels and islands [of his dominions],\nassigned them a site and marked out its boundaries. Then the\nworkmen occupied themselves with the making of the bath and the\nsetting out and adornment of its cabinets and roofs. They used\npaints and precious stones of all kinds, according to the\nvariousness of their hues, red and green and blue and yellow and\nwhat not else of all manner colours; and each artisan wrought at\nhis handicraft and each painter at his art, whilst the rest of\nthe folk busied themselves with transporting thither varicoloured\nstones.\n\nOne day, as the [chief] painter wrought at his work, there came\nin to him a poor man, who looked long upon him and observed his\nhandicraft; whereupon quoth the painter to him, \"Knowest thou\naught of painting?\" \"Yes,\" answered the stranger; so he gave him\ntools and paints and said to him, \"Make us a rare piece of work.\"\nSo the stranger entered one of the chambers of the bath and drew\n[on the walls thereof] a double border, which he adorned on both\nsides, after a fashion than which never saw eyes a fairer.\nMoreover, [amiddleward the chamber] he drew a picture to which\nthere lacked but the breath, and it was the portraiture of\nMariyeh, the king's daughter of Baghdad. Then, when he had made\nan end of the portrait, he went his way [and told none of what he\nhad done], nor knew any the chambers and doors of the bath and\nthe adornment and ordinance thereof.\n\nPresently, the chief workman came to the palace and sought an\naudience of the king, who bade admit him. So he entered and\nkissing the earth, saluted him with a salutation beseeming kings\nand said, \"O king of the time and lord of the age and the day,\nmay felicity endure unto thee and acceptance and be thy rank\nexalted over all the kings both morning and evening![FN#58] The\nwork of the bath is accomplished, by the king's fair fortune and\nthe eminence of his magnanimity,[FN#59] and indeed we have done\nall that behoved us and there remaineth but that which behoveth\nthe king.\" El Aziz ordered him a sumptuous dress of honour and\nexpended monies galore, giving unto each who had wroughten, after\nthe measure of his work. Then he assembled in the bath all the\ngrandees of his state, amirs and viziers and chamberlains and\nlieutenants, and the chief officers of his realm and household,\nand sending for his son El Abbas, said to him,\"O my son, I have\nbuilded thee a bath, wherein thou mayst take thy pleasance; so\nenter thou therein, that thou mayst see it and divert thyself by\ngazing upon it and viewing the goodliness of its ordinance and\ndecoration.\" \"With all my heart,\" replied the prince and entered\nthe bath, he and the king and the folk about them, so they might\ndivert themselves with viewing that which the workmen's hands had\nwroughten.\n\nEl Abbas went in and passed from place to place and chamber to\nchamber, till he came to the chamber aforesaid and espied the\nportrait of Mariyeh, whereupon he fell down in a swoon and the\nworkmen went to his father and said to him, \"Thy son El Abbas\nhath swooned away.\" So the king came and finding the prince cast\ndown, seated himself at his head and bathed his face with\nrose-water. After awhile he revived and the king said to him,\n\"God keep thee,[FN#60] O my son! What hath befallen thee?\" \"O my\nfather,\" answered the prince, \"I did but look on yonder picture\nand it bequeathed me a thousand regrets and there befell me that\nwhich thou seest.\" Therewithal the king bade fetch the [chief]\npainter, and when he stood before him, he said to him, \"Tell me\nof yonder portrait and what girl is this of the daughters of the\nkings; else will I take thy head.\" \"By Allah, O king,\" answered\nthe painter, \"I limned it not, neither know I who she is; but\nthere came to me a poor man and looked at me. So I said to him,\n'Knowest thou the art of painting?' And he replied, 'Yes.'\nWhereupon I gave him the gear and said to him, 'Make us a rare\npiece of work.' So he wrought yonder portrait and went away and I\nknow him not neither have I ever set eyes on him save that day.\"\n\nTherewithal the king bade all his officers go round about in the\nthoroughfares and colleges [of the town] and bring before him all\nstrangers whom they found there. So they went forth and brought\nhim much people, amongst whom was the man who had painted the\nportrait. When they came into the presence, the Sultan bade the\ncrier make proclamation that whoso wrought the portrait should\ndiscover himself and have whatsoever he desired. So the poor man\ncame forward and kissing the earth before the king, said to him,\n\"O king of the age, I am he who painted yonder portrait.\" Quoth\nEl Aziz, \"And knowest thou who she is?\" \"Yes,\" answered the\nother; \"this is the portrait of Mariyeh, daughter of the king of\nBaghdad.\" The king ordered him a dress of honour and a slave-girl\n[and he went his way]. Then said El Abbas, \"O father mine, give\nme leave to go to her, so I may look upon her; else shall I\ndepart the world, without fail.\" The king his father wept and\nanswered, saying, \"O my son, I builded thee a bath, that it might\ndivert thee from leaving me, and behold it hath been the cause of\nthy going forth; but the commandment of God is a\nforeordained[FN#61] decree.\"[FN#62]\n\nThen he wept again and El Abbas said to him, \"Fear not for me,\nfor thou knowest my prowess and my puissance in returning answers\nin the assemblies of the land and my good breeding[FN#63] and\nskill in rhetoric; and indeed he whose father thou art and whom\nthou hast reared and bred and in whom thou hast united\npraiseworthy qualities, the repute whereof hath traversed the\nEast and the West, thou needest not fear for him, more by token\nthat I purpose but to seek diversion[FN#64] and return to thee,\nif it be the will of God the Most High.\" Quoth the king, \"Whom\nwilt thou take with thee of attendants and [what] of good?\" \"O\nfather mine,\" replied El Abbas, \"I have no need of horses or\ncamels or arms, for I purpose not battle, and I will have none go\nforth with me save my servant Aamir and no more.\"\n\nAs he and his father were thus engaged in talk, in came his\nmother and caught hold of him; and he said to her, \"God on thee,\nlet me go my gait and strive not to turn me from my purpose, for\nthat needs must I go.\" \"O my son,\" answered she, \"if it must be\nso and there is no help for it, swear to me that them wilt not be\nabsent from me more than a year.\" And he swore to her. Then he\nentered his father's treasuries and took therefrom what he would\nof jewels and jacinths and everything heavy of worth and light of\ncarriage. Moreover, he bade his servant Aamir saddle him two\nhorses and the like for himself, and whenas the night darkened\nbehind him,[FN#65] he rose from his couch and mounting his horse,\nset out for Baghdad, he and Aamir, whilst the latter knew not\nwhither he intended.\n\nHe gave not over going and the journey was pleasant to him, till\nthey came to a goodly land, abounding in birds and wild beasts,\nwhereupon El Abbas started a gazelle and shot it with an arrow.\nThen he dismounted and cutting its throat, said to his servant,\n\"Alight thou and skin it and carry it to the water.\" Aamir\nanswered him [with \"Hearkening and obedience\"] and going down to\nthe water, kindled a fire and roasted the gazelle's flesh. Then\nthey ate their fill and drank of the water, after which they\nmounted again and fared on diligently, and Aamir still unknowing\nwhither El Abbas was minded to go. So he said to him, \"O my lord,\nI conjure thee by God the Great, wilt thou not tell me whither\nthou intendest?\" El Abbas looked at him and made answer with the\nfollowing verses:\n\nIn my soul the fire of yearning and affliction rageth aye; Lo, I\n     burn with love and longing; nought in answer can I say.\nTo Baghdad upon a matter of all moment do I fare, For the love of\n     one whose beauties have my reason led astray.\nUnder me's a slender camel, a devourer of the waste; Those who\n     pass a cloudlet deem it, as it flitteth o'er the way.\nSo, O Aamir, haste thy going, e'en as I do, so may I Heal my\n     sickness and the draining of the cup of love essay;\nFor the longing that abideth in my heart is hard to bear. Fare\n     with me, then, to my loved one. Answer nothing, but obey.\n\nWhen Aamir heard his lord's verses, he knew that he was a slave\nof love [and that she of whom he was enamoured abode] in Baghdad.\nThen they fared on night and day, traversing plains and stony\nwastes, till they came in sight of Baghdad and lighted down in\nits suburbs[FN#66] and lay the night there. When they arose in\nthe morning, they removed to the bank of the Tigris and there\nthey encamped and sojourned three days.\n\nAs they abode thus on the fourth day, behold, a company of folk\ngiving their beasts the rein and crying aloud and saying, \"Quick!\nQuick! Haste to our rescue, O King!\" Therewithal the king's\nchamberlains and officers accosted them and said to them, \"What\nis behind you and what hath befallen you?\" Quoth they, \"Bring us\nbefore the king.\" [So they carried them to Ins ben Cais;] and\nwhen they saw him, they said to him, \"O king, except thou succour\nus, we are dead men; for that we are a folk of the Benou\nSheiban,[FN#67] who have taken up our abode in the parts of\nBassora, and Hudheifeh the Arab[FN#68] hath come down on us with\nhis horses and his men and hath slain our horsemen and carried\noff our women and children; nor was one saved of the tribe but he\nwho fled; wherefore we crave help [first] by God the Most High,\nthen by thy life.\"\n\nWhen the king heard their speech, he bade the crier make\nproclamation in the thoroughfares of the city that the troops\nshould prepare [for the march] and that the horsemen should mount\nand the footmen come forth; nor was it but the twinkling of the\neye ere the drums beat and the trumpets sounded; and scarce was\nthe forenoon of the day passed when the city was blocked with\nhorse and foot. So the king passed them in review and behold,\nthey were four-and-twenty thousand in number, horsemen and\nfootmen. He bade them go forth to the enemy and gave the\ncommandment over them to Said ibn el Wakidi, a doughty cavalier\nand a valiant man of war. So the horsemen set out and fared on\nalong the bank of the Tigris.\n\nEl Abbas looked at them and saw the ensigns displayed and the\nstandards loosed and heard the drums beating; so he bade his\nservant saddle him a charger and look to the girths and bring him\nhis harness of war. Quoth Aamir, \"And indeed I saw El Abbas his\neyes flash and the hair of his hands stood on end, for that\nindeed horsemanship[FN#69] abode [rooted in his heart].\"So he\nmounted his charger, whilst Aamir also bestrode a war-horse, and\nthey went forth with the troops and fared on two days. On the\nthird day, after the hour of the mid-afternoon prayer, they came\nin sight of the enemy and the two armies met and the ranks joined\nbattle. The strife raged amain and sore was the smiting, whilst\nthe dust rose in clouds and hung vaulted [over them], so that all\neyes were blinded; and they ceased not from the battle till the\nnight overtook them, when the two hosts drew off from the mellay\nand passed the night, perplexed concerning themselves [and the\nissue of their affair].\n\nWhen God caused the morning morrow, the two armies drew out in\nbattle array and the troops stood looking at one another. Then\ncame forth El Harith ibn Saad between the two lines and played\nwith his lance and cried out and recited the following verses:\n\nAlgates ye are our prey become; this many a day and night Right\n     instantly of God we've craved to be vouchsafed your sight.\nSo hath the Merciful towards Hudheifeh driven you, A champion\n     ruling over all, a lion of great might.\nIs there a man of you will come, that I may heal his paint With\n     blows right profitful for him who's sick for lust of fight?\n\nBy Allah, come ye forth to me, for lo, I'm come to you I May he\nwho's wronged the victory get and God defend the right![FN#70]\n\nThereupon there sallied forth to him Zuheir ben Hebib, and they\nwheeled about and feinted awhile, then came to dose quarters and\nexchanged strokes. El Harith forewent his adversary in smiting\nand stretched him weltering in his gore; whereupon Hudheifeh\ncried out to him, saying, \"Gifted of God art thou, O Harith! Call\nanother of them.\" So he cried out, saying, \"Is there a\ncomer-forth [to battle?]\" But they of Baghdad held back froni\nhim; and when it appeared to El Harith that confusion was amongst\nthem, he fell upon them and overthrew the first of them upon\ntheir last and slew of them twelve men. Then the evening overtook\nhim and the Baghdadis addressed themselves to flight.\n\nWhen the morning morrowed, they found themselves reduced to a\nfourth part of their number and there was not one of them had\ndismounted from his horse. So they made sure of destruction and\nHudheifeh came out between the ranks (now he was reckoned for a\nthousand cavaliers) and cried out, saying, \"Harkye, my masters of\nBaghdad! Let none come forth to me but your Amir, so I may talk\nwith him and he with me; and he shall meet me in single combat\nand I will meet him, and may he who is void of offence come off\nsafe!\" Then he repeated his speech and said, \"Why do I not hear\nyour Amir return me an answer?\" But Saad, the amir of the army of\nBaghdad, [replied not to him], and indeed his teeth chattered in\nhis head, whenas he heard him summon him to single combat.\n\nWhen El Abbas heard Hudheifeh's challenge and saw Saad in this\ncase, he came up to the latter and said to him, \"Wilt thou give\nme leave to reply to him and I will stand thee in stead in the\nanswering of him and the going forth to battle with him and will\nmake myself thy sacrifice?\" Saad looked at him and seeing valour\nshining from between his eyes, said to him, \"O youth, by the\nvirtue of the Chosen [Prophet,] (whom God bless and keep,) tell\nme [who thou art and] whence thou comest to our succour.\" \"This\nis no place for questioning,\" answered the prince; and Saad said\nto him, \"O champion, up and at Hudheifeh! Yet, if his devil prove\ntoo strong for thee, afflict not thyself in thy youth.\"[FN#71]\nQuoth El Abbas, \"It is of Allah that help is to be\nsought,\"[FN#72] and taking his arms, fortified his resolution and\nwent down [into the field], as he were a castle of the castles or\na piece of a mountain.\n\n[When] Hudheifeh [saw him], he cried out to him, saying, \"Haste\nthee not, O youth! Who art thou of the folk?\" And he answered, \"I\nam Saad [ibn] el Wakidi, commander of the host of King Ins, and\nbut that thou vauntedst thyself in challenging me, I had not come\nforth to thee; for that thou art not of my peers neither art\ncounted equal to me in prowess and canst not avail against my\nonslaught. Wherefore prepare thee for departure,[FN#73] seeing\nthat there abideth but a little of thy life.\" When Hudheifeh\nheard this his speech, he threw himself backward,[FN#74] as if in\nmockery of him, whereat El Abbas was wroth and called out to him,\nsaying, \"O Hudheifeh, guard thyself against me.\" Then he rushed\nupon him, as he were a swooper of the Jinn,[FN#75] and Hudheifeh\nmet him and they wheeled about a long while.\n\nPresently, El Abbas cried out at Hudheifeh a cry that astonied\nhim and dealt him a blow, saying, \"Take this from the hand of a\nchampion who feareth not the like of thee.\" Hudheifeh met the\nstroke with his shield, thinking to ward it off from him; but the\nsword shore the target in sunder and descending upon his\nshoulder, came forth gleaming from the tendons of his throat and\nsevered his arm at the armpit; whereupon he fell down, wallowing\nin his blood, and El Abbas turned upon his host; nor had the sun\ndeparted the pavilion of the heavens ere Hudheifeh's army was in\nfull flight before El Abbas and the saddles were empty of men.\nQuoth Saad, \"By the virtue of the Chosen [Prophet], whom God\nbless and keep, I saw El Abbas with the blood upon his saddle\npads, [in gouts] like camels' livers, smiting with the sword\nright and left, till he scattered them abroad in every\nmountain-pass and desert; and when he turned [back to the camp],\nthe men of Baghdad were fearful of him.\"\n\nWhen the Baghdadis saw this succour that had betided them against\ntheir enemies [and the victory that El Abbas had gotten them],\nthey turned back and gathering together the spoils [of the\ndefeated host], arms and treasures and horses, returned to\nBaghdad, victorious, and all by the valour of El Abbas. As for\nSaad, he foregathered with the prince, and they fared on in\ncompany till they came to the place where El Abbas had taken\nhorse, whereupon the latter dismounted from his charger and Saad\nsaid to him, \"O youth, wherefore alightest thou in other than thy\nplace? Indeed, thy due is incumbent upon us and upon our Sultan;\nso go thou with us to the dwellings, that we may ransom thee with\nour souls.\" \"O Amir Saad,\" replied El Abbas, \"from this place I\ntook horse with thee and herein is my lodging. So, God on thee,\nname me not to the king, but make as if thou hadst never seen me,\nfor that I am a stranger in the land.\"\n\nSo saying, he turned away from him and Saad fared on to the\npalace, where he found all the suite in attendance on the king\nand recounting to him that which had betided them with El Abbas.\nQuoth the king, \"Where is he?\" And they answered, \"He is with the\nAmir Saad.\" [So, when the latter entered], the king [looked, but]\nfound none with him; and Saad, seeing that he hankered after the\nyouth, cried out to him, saying, \"God prolong the king's days!\nIndeed, he refuseth to present himself before thee, without leave\nor commandment.\" \"O Saad,\" asked the king, \"whence cometh this\nman?\" And the Amir answered, \"O my lord, I know not; but he is a\nyouth fair of favour, lovesome of aspect, accomplished in\ndiscourse, goodly of repartee, and valour shineth from between\nhis eyes.\"\n\nQuoth the king, \"O Saad, fetch him to me, for indeed thou\ndescribest to me a masterful man.\"[FN#76] And he answered,\nsaying, \"By Allah, O my lord, hadst thou but seen our case with\nHudheifeh, what while he challenged me to the field of war and\nthe stead of thrusting and smiting and I held back from doing\nbattle with him! Then, whenas I thought to go forth to him,\nbehold, a cavalier gave loose to his bridle-rein and called out\nto me, saying, 'O Saad, wilt thou suffer me to fill thy room in\nwaging war with him and I will ransom thee with myself?' And I\nsaid, 'By Allah, O youth, whence cometh thou?' Quoth he, 'This is\nno time for thy questions.'\" Then he recounted to the king all\nthat had passed between himself and El Abbas from first to last;\nwhereupon quoth Ins ben Cais, \"Bring him to me in haste, so we\nmay learn his tidings and question him of his case.\" \"It is\nwell,\" answered Saad, and going forth of the king's presence,\nrepaired to his own house, where he put off his harness of war\nand took rest for himself.\n\nTo return to El Abbas, when he alighted from his charger, he put\noff his harness of war and rested awhile; after which he brought\nout a shirt of Venetian silk and a gown of green damask and\ndonning them, covered himself with a turban of Damietta stuff and\ngirt his middle with a handkerchief. Then he went out a-walking\nin the thoroughfares of Baghdad and fared on till he came to the\nbazaar of the merchants. There he found a merchant, with chess\nbefore him; so he stood watching him and presently the other\nlooked up at him and said to him, \"O youth, what wilt thou stake\nupon the game?\" And he answered, \"Be it thine to decide.\" \"Then\nbe it a hundred dinars,\" said the merchant, and El Abbas\nconsented to him, whereupon quoth he, \"O youth, produce the\nmoney, so the game may be fairly stablished.\" So El Abbas brought\nout a satin purse, wherein were a thousand dinars, and laid down\nan hundred dinars therefrom on the edge of the carpet, whilst the\nmerchant did the like, and indeed his reason fled for joy, whenas\nhe saw the gold in El Abbas his possession.\n\nThe folk flocked about them, to divert themselves with watching\nthe play, and they called the bystanders to witness of the wager\nand fell a-playing. El Abbas forbore the merchant, so he might\nlead him on, and procrastinated with him awhile; and the merchant\nwon and took of him the hundred dinars. Then said the prince,\n\"Wilt thou play another game?\" And the other answered, \"O youth,\nI will not play again, except it be for a thousand dinars.\" Quoth\nthe prince, \"Whatsoever thou stakest, I will match thy stake with\nthe like thereof.\" So the merchant brought out a thousand dinars\nand the prince covered them with other thousand. Then they fell\na-playing, but El Abbas was not long with him ere he beat him in\nthe square of the elephant,[FN#77] nor did he leave to do thus\ntill he had beaten him four times and won of him four thousand\ndinars.\n\nThis was all the merchant's good; so he said, \"O youth, I will\nplay thee another game for the shop.\" Now the value of the shop\nwas four thousand dinars; so they played and El Abbas beat him\nand won his shop, with that which was therein; whereupon the\nother arose, shaking his clothes, and said to him, \"Up, O youth,\nand take thy shop.\" So El Abbas arose and repairing to the shop,\ntook possession thereof, after which he returned to [the place\nwhere he had left] his servant [Aamir] and found there the Amir\nSaad, who was come to bid him to the presence of the king. El\nAbbas consented to this and accompanied him till they came before\nKing Ins ben Cais, whereupon he kissed the earth and saluted him\nand exceeded[FN#78] in the salutation. Quoth the king to him,\n\"Whence comest thou, O youth?\" and he answered, \"I come from\nYemen.\"\n\nThen said the king, \"Hast thou a need we may accomplish unto\nthee? For indeed we are exceeding beholden to thee for that which\nthou didst in the matter of Hudheifeh and his folk.\" And he let\ncast over him a mantle of Egyptian satin, worth an hundred\ndinars. Moreover, he bade his treasurer give him a thousand\ndinars and said to him, \"O youth, take this in part of that which\nthou deserves! of us; and if thou prolong thy sojourn with us, we\nwill give thee slaves and servants.\" El Abbas kissed the earth\nand said, \"O king, may grant thee abiding prosperity, I deserve\nnot all this.\" Then he put his hand to his poke and pulling out\ntwo caskets of gold, in each of which were rubies, whose value\nnone could tell, gave them to the king, saying, \"O king, God\ncause thy prosperity to endure, I conjure thee by that which God\nhath vouchsafed thee, heal my heart by accepting these two\ncaskets, even as I have accepted thy present.\" So the king\naccepted the two caskets and El Abbas took his leave and went\naway to the bazaar.\n\nWhen the merchants saw him, they accosted him and said, \"O youth,\nwilt thou not open thy shop?\" As they were bespeaking him, up\ncame a woman, having with her a boy, bareheaded, and [stood]\nlooking at El Abbas, till he turned to her, when she said to him,\n\"O youth, I conjure thee by Allah, look at this boy and have pity\non him, for that his father hath forgotten his cap in the shop\n[he lost to thee]; so if thou will well to give it to him, thy\nreward be with God! For indeed the child maketh our hearts ache\nwith his much weeping, and God be witness for us that, were there\nleft us aught wherewithal to buy him a cap in its stead, we had\nnot sought it of thee.\" \"O adornment of womankind,\" replied El\nAbbas, \"indeed, thou bespeakest me with thy fair speech and\nsupplicatest me with thy goodly words ...But bring me thy\nhusband.\" So she went and fetched the merchant, whilst the folk\nassembled to see what El Abbas would do. When the man came, he\nreturned him the gold he had won of him, all and part, and\ndelivered him the keys of the shop, saying, \"Requite us with thy\npious prayers.\"Therewithal the woman came up to him and kissed\nhis feet, and on like wise did the merchant her husband; and all\nwho were present blessed him, and there was no talk but of El\nAbbas.\n\nAs for the merchant, he bought him a sheep and slaughtering it,\nroasted it and dressed birds and [other] meats of various kinds\nand colours and bought dessert and sweetmeats and fresh fruits.\nThen he repaired to El Abbas and conjured him to accept of his\nhospitality and enter his house and eat of his victual. The\nprince consented to his wishes and went with him till they came\nto his house, when the merchant bade him enter. So El Abbas\nentered and saw a goodly house, wherein was a handsome saloon,\nwith a vaulted estrade. When he entered the saloon, he found that\nthe merchant had made ready food and dessert and perfumes, such\nas overpass description; and indeed he had adorned the table with\nsweet-scented flowers and sprinkled musk and rose-water upon the\nfood. Moreover, he had smeared the walls of the saloon with\nambergris and set [the smoke of burning] aloes-wood abroach\ntherein.\n\nPresently, El Abbas looked out of the window of the saloon and\nsaw thereby a house of goodly ordinance, lofty of building and\nabounding in chambers, with two upper stories; but therein was no\nsign of inhabitants. So he said to the merchant, \"Indeed, thou\nexceedest in doing us honour; but, by Allah, I will not eat of\nthy victual till thou tell me what is the reason of the emptiness\nof yonder house.\" \"O my lord,\" answered the other, \"that was El\nGhitrif's house and he was admitted to the mercy of God[FN#79]\nand left none other heir than myself; so it became mine, and by\nAllah, if thou hast a mind to sojourn in Baghdad, do thou take up\nthine abode in this house, so thou mayst be in my neighbourhood;\nfor that indeed my heart inclineth unto thee with love and I\nwould have thee never absent from my sight, so I may still have\nmy fill of thee and hearken to thy speech.\" El Abbas thanked him\nand said to him, \"Indeed, thou art friendly in thy speech and\nexceedest [in courtesy] in thy discourse, and needs must I\nsojourn in Baghdad. As for the house, if it like thee, I will\nabide therein; so take of me its price.\"\n\nSo saying, he put his hand to his poke and bringing out therefrom\nthree hundred dinars, gave them to the merchant, who said in\nhimself, \"Except I take the money, he will not abide in the\nhouse.\" So he pouched the money and sold him the house, taking\nthe folk to witness against himself of the sale. Then he arose\nand set food before El Abbas and they ate of the good things\nwhich he had provided; after which he brought him dessert and\nsweetmeats. They ate thereof till they had enough, when the\ntables were removed and they washed their hands with rose-water\nand willow-flower-water. Then the merchant brought El Abbas a\nnapkin perfumed with the fragrant smoke of aloes-wood, on which\nhe wiped his hand,[FN#80] and said to him, \"O my lord, the house\nis become thy house; so bid thy servant transport thither the\nhorses and arms and stuffs.\" El Abbas did this and the merchant\nrejoiced in his neighbourhood and left him not night nor day, so\nthat the prince said to him, \"By Allah, I distract thee from thy\nlivelihood.\" \"God on thee, O my lord,\" replied the merchant,\n\"name not to me aught of this, or thou wilt break my heart, for\nthe best of traffic is thy company and thou art the best of\nlivelihood.\" So there befell strait friendship between them and\nceremony was laid aside from between them.\n\nMeanwhile the king said to his vizier, \"How shall we do in the\nmatter of yonder youth, the Yemani, on whom we thought to confer\nlargesse, but he hath largessed us with tenfold [our gift] and\nmore, and we know not if he be a sojourner with us or no?\" Then\nhe went into the harem and gave the rubies to his wife Afifeh,\nwho said to him, \"What is the worth of these with thee and with\n[other] the kings?\" And he answered, \"They are not to be found\nsave with the greatest of kings and none may avail to price them\nwith money.\" Quoth she, \"Whence gottest thou them?\" So he\nrecounted to her the story of El Abbas from first to last, and\nshe said, \"By Allah, the claims of honour are imperative on us\nand the king hath fallen short of his due; for that we have not\nseen him bid him to his assembly, nor hath he seated him on his\nleft hand.\"\n\n[When the king heard his wife's words], it was as if he had been\nasleep and awoke; so he went forth of the harem and bade\nslaughter fowls and dress meats of all kinds and colours.\nMoreover, he assembled all his retainers and let bring sweetmeats\nand dessert and all that beseemeth unto kings' tables. Then he\nadorned his palace and despatched after El Abbas a man of the\nchief officers of his household, who found him coming forth of\nthe bath, clad in a doublet of fine goats' hair and over it a\nBaghdadi scarf; his waist was girt with a Rustec[FN#81] kerchief\nand on his head he wore a light turban of Damietta make.\n\nThe messenger wished him joy of the bath and exceeded in doing\nhim worship. Then he said to him, \"The king biddeth thee in\nweal.\"[FN#82] \"Hearkening and obedience,\" answered El Abbas and\naccompanied the messenger to the king's palace.\n\nNow Afifeh and her daughter Mariyeh were behind the curtain,\nlooking at him; and when he came before the king, he saluted him\nand greeted him with the greeting of kings, whilst all who were\npresent stared at him and at his beauty and grace and perfection.\nThe king seated him at the head of the table; and when Afifeh saw\nhim and straitly considered him, she said, \"By the virtue of\nMohammed, prince of the Apostles, this youth is of the sons of\nthe kings and cometh not to these parts but for some high\npurpose!\" Then she looked at Mariyeh and saw that her face was\nchanged, and indeed her eyes were dead in her face and she turned\nnot her gaze from El Abbas a glance of the eyes, for that the\nlove of him had gotten hold upon her heart. When the queen saw\nwhat had befallen her daughter, she feared for her from reproach\nconcerning El Abbas; so she shut the wicket of the lattice and\nsuffered her not to look upon him more. Now there was a pavilion\nset apart for Mariyeh, and therein were privy chambers and\nbalconies and lattices, and she had with her a nurse, who served\nher, after the fashion of kings' daughters.\n\nWhen the banquet was ended and the folk had dispersed, the king\nsaid to El Abbas, \"I would fain have thee [abide] with me and I\nwill buy thee a house, so haply we may requite thee the high\nservices for which we are beholden to thee; for indeed thy due is\nimperative [upon us] and thy worth is magnified in our eyes; and\nindeed we have fallen short of thy due in the matter of\ndistance.\"[FN#83] When the prince heard the king's speech, he\nrose and sat down[FN#84] and kissing the earth, returned thanks\nfor his bounty and said, \"I am the king's servant, wheresoever I\nmay be, and under his eye.\" Then he recounted to him the story of\nthe merchant and the manner of the buying of the house, and the\nking said, \"Indeed, I would fain have had thee with me and in my\nneighbourhood.\"\n\nThen El Abbas took leave of the king and went away to his own\nhouse. Now it befell that he passed under the palace of Mariyeh\nthe king's daughter, and she was sitting at a window. He chanced\nto look round and his eyes met those of the princess, whereupon\nhis wit departed and he was like to swoon away, whilst his colour\nchanged and he said, \"Verily, we are God's and to Him we return!\"\nBut he feared for himself lest estrangement betide him; so he\nconcealed his secret and discovered not his case to any of the\ncreatures of God the Most High. When he reached his house, his\nservant Aamir said to him, \"O my lord, I seek refuge for thee\nwith God from change of colour! Hath there betided thee a pain\nfrom God the Most High or hath aught of vexation befallen thee?\nVerily, sickness hath an end and patience doth away vexation.\"\nBut the prince returned him no answer. Then he brought out\ninkhorn [and pen] and paper and wrote the following verses:\n\n\nQuoth I (and mine a body is of passion all forslain, Ay, and a\n     heart that's all athirst for love and longing pain\nAnd eye that knoweth not the sweet of sleep; yet she, who caused\n     My dole, may Fortune's perfidies for aye from her abstain!\nYea, for the perfidies of Fate and sev'rance I'm become Even as\n     was Bishr[FN#85] of old time with Hind,[FN#86] a fearful\n     swain;\nA talking-stock among the folk for ever I abide; Life and the\n     days pass by, yet ne'er my wishes I attain),\n\"Knoweth my loved one when I see her at the lattice high Shine as\n     the sun that flameth forth in heaven's blue demesne?\"\nHer eye is sharper than a sword; the soul with ecstasy It takes\n     and longing leaves behind, that nothing may assain.\nAs at the casement high she sat, her charms I might espy, For\n     from her cheeks the envious veil that hid them she had\n     ta'en.\nShe shot at me a shaft that reached my heart and I became The\n     bond- man of despair, worn out with effort all in vain.\nFawn of the palace, knowst thou not that I, to look on thee, The\n     world have traversed, far and wide, o'er many a hill and\n     plain?\nRead then my writ and pity thou the blackness of my fate, Sick,\n     love- distraught, without a friend to whom I may complain.\n\nNow the merchant's wife aforesaid, who was the nurse of the\nking's daughter, was watching him from a window, unknown of him,\nand [when she heard his verses], she knew that there hung some\nrare story by him; so she went in to him and said, \"Peace be on\nthee, O afflicted one, who acquaintest not physician with thy\ncase! Verily, thou exposest thyself unto grievous peril! I\nconjure thee by the virtue of Him who hath afflicted thee and\nstricken thee with the constraint of love-liking, that thou\nacquaint me with thine affair and discover to me the truth of thy\nsecret; for that indeed I have heard from thee verses that\ntrouble the wit and dissolve the body.\" So he acquainted her with\nhis case and enjoined her to secrecy, whereof she consented unto\nhim, saying, \"What shall be the recompense of whoso goeth with\nthy letter and bringeth thee an answer thereto?\" He bowed his\nhead for shamefastness before her [and was silent]; and she said\nto him, \"Raise thy head and give me thy letter.\" So he gave her\nthe letter and she took it and carrying it to the princess, said\nto her, \"Read this letter and give me the answer thereto.\"\n\nNow the liefest of all things to Mariyeh was the recitation of\npoems and verses and linked rhymes and the twanging [of the\nstrings of the lute], and she was versed in all tongues; so she\ntook the letter and opening it, read that which was therein and\napprehended its purport. Then she cast it on the ground and said,\n\"O nurse, I have no answer to make to this letter.\" Quoth the\nnurse, \"Indeed, this is weakness in thee and a reproach unto\nthee, for that the people of the world have heard of thee and\nstill praise thee for keenness of wit and apprehension; so do\nthou return him an answer, such as shall delude his heart and\nweary his soul.\" \"O nurse,\" rejoined the princess, \"who is this\nthat presumeth upon me with this letter? Belike he is the\nstranger youth who gave my father the rubies.\" \"It is himself,\"\nanswered the woman, and Mariyeh said, \"I will answer his letter\non such a wise that thou shalt not bring me other than it [from\nhim].\" Quoth the nurse, \"So be it.\" So the princess called for\ninkhorn and paper and wrote the following verses:\n\nO'erbold art thou in that to me, a stranger, thou hast sent These\n     verses; 'twill but add to thee unease and miscontent.\nNow God forbid thou shouldst attain thy wishes! What care I If\n     thou have looked on me a look that caused thee languishment?\nWho art thou, wretch, that thou shouldst hope to win me? With thy\n     rhymes What wouldst of me? Thy reason, sure, with passion is\n     forspent.\nIf to my favours thou aspire and covet me, good lack! What leach\n     such madness can assain or what medicament?\nLeave rhyming, madman that thou art, lest, bound upon the cross,\n     Thou thy presumption in the stead of abjectness repent.\nDeem not, O youth, that I to thee incline; indeed, no part Have I\n     in those who walk the ways, the children of the tent.[FN#87]\nIn the wide world no house thou hast, a homeless wanderer thou:\n     To thine own place thou shall be borne, an object for\n     lament.[FN#88]\nForbear thy verse-making, O thou that harbourest in the camp,\n     Lest to the gleemen thou become a name of wonderment.\nHow many a lover, who aspires to union with his love, For all his\n     hopes seem near, is baulked of that whereon he's bent!\nThen get thee gone nor covet that which thou shall ne'er obtain;\n     So shall it be, although the time seem near and the event.\nThus unto thee have I set forth my case; consider well My words,\n     so thou mayst guided be aright by their intent.\n\nWhen she had made an end of her verses, she folded the letter and\ndelivered it to the nurse, who took it and went with it to El\nAbbas. When she gave it to him, he took it and breaking it open,\nread it and apprehended its purport; and when he came to the end\nof it, he swooned away. After awhile, he came to himself and\nsaid, \"Praised be God who hath caused her return an answer to my\nletter! Canst thou carry her another letter, and with God the\nMost High be thy requital?\" Quoth she, \"And what shall letters\nprofit thee, seeing she answereth on this wise?\" But he said,\n\"Belike, she may yet be softened.\" Then he took inkhorn and paper\nand wrote the following verses:\n\nThy letter reached me; when the words thou wrot'st therein I\n     read, My longing waxed and pain and woe redoubled on my\n     head.\nYea, wonder-words I read therein, my trouble that increased And\n     caused emaciation wear my body to a shred.\nWould God thou knewst what I endure for love of thee and how My\n     vitals for thy cruelty are all forspent and dead!\nFain, fain would I forget thy love. Alack, my heart denies To be\n     consoled, and 'gainst thy wrath nought standeth me in stead.\nAn thou'dst vouchsafe to favour me,'twould lighten my despair,\n     Though but in dreams thine image 'twere that visited my bed.\nPersist not on my weakliness with thy disdain nor be Treason and\n     breach of love its troth to thee attributed;\nFor know that hither have I fared and come to this thy land, By\n     hopes of union with thee and near fruition led.\nHow oft I've waked, whilst over me my comrades kept the watch!\n     How many a stony waste I've crossed, how many a desert\n     dread!\nFrom mine own land, to visit thee, I came at love's command, For\n     all the distance did forbid,'twixt me and thee that spread.\nWherefore, by Him who letteth waste my frame, have ruth on me And\n     quench my yearning and the fires by passion in me fed.\nIn glory's raiment clad, by thee the stars of heaven are shamed\n     And in amaze the full moon stares to see thy goodlihead.\nAll charms, indeed, thou dost comprise; so who shall vie with\n     thee And who shall blame me if for love of such a fair I'm\n     sped?\n\nWhen he had made an end of his verses, he folded the letter and\ndelivering it to the nurse, charged her keep the secret. So she\ntook it and carrying it to Mariyeh, gave it to her. The princess\nbroke it open and read it and apprehended its purport. Then said\nshe, \"By Allah, O nurse, my heart is burdened with an exceeding\nchagrin, never knew I a dourer, because of this correspondence\nand of these verses.\" And the muse made answer to her, saying, \"O\nmy lady, thou art in thy dwelling and thy place and thy heart is\nvoid of care; so return him an answer and reck thou not\"\nAccordingly, the princess called for inkhorn and paper and wrote\nthe following verses:\n\nThou that the dupe of yearning art, how many a melting wight In\n     waiting for the unkept tryst doth watch the weary night!\nIf in night's blackness thou hast plunged into the desert's heart\n     And hast denied thine eyes the taste of sleep and its\n     delight,\nIf near and far thy toiling feet have trod the ways and thou\n     Devils and Marids hast ensued nor wouldst be led aright,\nAnd dar'dst, O dweller in the tents, to lift thine eyes to me,\n     Hoping by stress to win of me the amorous delight,\nGet thee to patience fair, if thou remember thee of that Whose\n     issues (quoth the Merciful) are ever benedight.[FN#89]\nHow many a king for my sweet sake with other kings hath vied,\n     Still craving union with me and suing for my sight!\nWhenas En Nebhan strove to win my grace, himself to me With\n     camel- loads he did commend of musk and camphor white,\nAnd aloes-wood, to boot, he brought and caskets full of pearls\n     And priceless rubies and the like of costly gems and bright;\nYea, and black slaves he proffered me and slave-girls big with\n     child And steeds of price, with splendid arms and trappings\n     rich bedight.\nRaiment of silk and sendal, too, he brought to us for gift, And\n     me in marriage sought therewith; yet, all his pains despite,\nOf me he got not what he sought and brideless did return, For\n     that estrangement and disdain were pleasing in my sight.\nWherefore, O stranger, dare thou not approach me with desire,\n     Lest ruin quick and pitiless thy hardihood requite.\n\nWhen she had made an end of her verses, she folded the letter and\ndelivered it to the nurse, who took it and carried it to El\nAbbas. He broke it open and read it and apprehended its purport;\nthen took inkhorn and paper and wrote the following verses:\n\nIndeed, thou'st told the tale of kings and men of might, Each one\n     a lion fierce, impetuous in the fight,\nWhose wits (like mine, alack!) thou stalest and whose hearts With\n     shafts from out thine eyes bewitching thou didst smite.\nYea, and how slaves and steeds and good and virgin girls Were\n     proffered thee to gift, thou hast not failed to cite,\nHow presents in great store thou didst refuse and eke The givers,\n     great and small, with flouting didst requite.\nThen came I after them, desiring thee, with me No second save my\n     sword, my falchion keen and bright.\nNo slaves with me have I nor camels swift of foot, Nor\n     slave-girls have I brought in curtained litters dight.\nYet, an thou wilt vouchsafe thy favours unto me, My sabre thou\n     shalt see the foemen put to flight;\nAy, and around Baghdad the horsemen shalt behold, Like clouds\n     that wall the world, full many a doughty knight,\nAll hearkening to my word, obeying my command, In whatsoever\n     thing is pleasing to my sight.\nIf slaves thou fain wouldst have by thousands every day Or,\n     kneeling at thy feet, see kings of mickle might,\nAnd horses eke wouldst have led to thee day by day And girls,\n     high- breasted maids, and damsels black and white,\nLo under my command the land of Yemen is And trenchant is my\n     sword against the foe in fight.\nWhenas the couriers came with news of thee, how fair Thou wast\n     and sweet and how thy visage shone with light,\nAll, all, for thy sweet sake, I left; ay, I forsook Aziz, my\n     sire, and those akin to me that hight\nAnd unto Irak fared, my way to thee to make, And crossed the\n     stony wastes i' the darkness of the night.\nThen sent I speech to thee in verses such as burn The heart;\n     reproach therein was none nor yet unright;\nYet with perfidiousness (sure Fortune's self as thou Ne'er so\n     perfidious was) my love thou didst requite\nAnd deemedst me a waif, a homeless good-for-nought, A\n     slave-begotten brat, a wanton, witless wight.\n\nThen he folded the letter and committed it to the nurse and gave\nher five hundred dinars, saying, \"Accept this from me, for that\nindeed thou hast wearied thyself between us.\" \"By Allah, O my\nlord,\" answered she, \"my desire is to bring about union between\nyou, though I lose that which my right hand possesseth.\" And he\nsaid, \"May God the Most High requite thee with good!\" Then she\ncarried the letter to Mariyeh and said to her, \"Take this letter;\nbelike it may be the end of the correspondence.\" So she took it\nand breaking it open, read it, and when she had made an end of\nit, she turned to the nurse and said to her, \"This fellow putteth\noff lies upon me and avoucheth unto me that he hath cities and\nhorsemen and footmen at his command and submitting to his\nallegiance; and he seeketh of me that which he shall not obtain;\nfor thou knowest, O nurse, that kings' sons have sought me in\nmarriage, with presents and rarities; but I have paid no heed\nunto aught of this; so how shall I accept of this fellow, who is\nthe fool[FN#90] of his time and possesseth nought but two caskets\nof rubies, which he gave to my father, and indeed he hath taken\nup his abode in the house of El Ghitrif and abideth without\nsilver or gold? Wherefore, I conjure thee by Allah, O nurse,\nreturn to him and cut off his hope of me.\"\n\nAccordingly the nurse returned to El Abbas, without letter or\nanswer; and when she came in to him, he saw that she was troubled\nand noted the marks of chagrin on her face; so he said to her,\n\"What is this plight?\" Quoth she, \"I cannot set out to thee that\nwhich Mariyeh said; for indeed she charged me return to thee\nwithout letter or answer.\" \"O nurse of kings,\" rejoined El Abbas,\n\"I would have thee carry her this letter and return not to her\nwithout it.\" Then he took inkhorn and paper and wrote the\nfollowing verses:\n\nMy secret is disclosed, the which I strove to hide; Of thee and\n     of thy love enough have I abyed.\nMy kinsmen and my friends for thee I did forsake And left them\n     weeping tears that poured as 'twere a tide.\nYea, to Baghdad I came, where rigour gave me chase And I was\n     overthrown of cruelty and pride.\nRepression's draught, by cups, from the beloved's hand I've\n     quaffed; with colocynth for wine she hath me plied.\nOft as I strove to make her keep the troth of love, Unto\n     concealment's ways still would she turn aside.\nMy body is dissolved with sufferance in vain; Relenting, ay, and\n     grace I hoped should yet betide;\nBut rigour still hath waxed on me and changed my case And love\n     hath left me bound, afflicted, weeping-eyed.\nHow long shall I anights distracted be for love Of thee? How long\n     th' assaults of grief and woes abide?\nThou, thou enjoy'st repose and comfortable sleep, Nor of the\n     mis'ries reckst by which my heart is wried.\nI watch the stars for wake and pray that the belov'd May yet to\n     me relent and bid my tears be dried.\nThe pains of long desire have wasted me away; Estrangement and\n     disdain my body sore have tried.\n\"Be thou not hard of heart,\" quoth I. Had ye but deigned To visit\n     me in dreams, I had been satisfied.\nBut when ye saw my writ, the standard ye o'erthrew Of faith, your\n     favours grudged and aught of grace denied.\nNay, though ye read therein discourse that sure should speak To\n     heart and soul, no word thereunto ye replied,\nBut deemed yourself secure from every changing chance Nor recked\n     the ebb and flow of Fortune's treacherous tide.\nWere my affliction thine, love's anguish hadst thou dreed And in\n     the flaming hell of long estrangement sighed.\nYet shall thou suffer that which I from thee have borne And with\n     love's woes thy heart shall yet be mortified.\nThe bitterness of false accusing shall thou taste And eke the\n     thing reveal that thou art fain to hide;\nYea, he thou lov'st shall be hard-hearted, recking not Of\n     fortune's turns or fate's caprices, in his pride.\nWherewith farewell, quoth I, and peace be on thee aye, What while\n     the branches bend, what while the stars abide.\n\nWhen he had made an end of his verses, he folded the letter and\ngave it to the nurse, who took it and carried it to Mariyeh. When\nshe came into the princess's presence, she saluted her; but\nMariyeh returned not her salutation and she said, \"O my lady, how\nhard is thy heart that thou grudgest to return the salutation!\nTake this letter, for that it is the last of that which shall\ncome to thee from him.\" Quoth Mariyeh, \"Take my warning and never\nagain enter my palace, or it will be the cause of thy\ndestruction; for I am certified that thou purposest my dishonour.\nSo get thee gone from me.\" And she commanded to beat the nurse;\nwhereupon the latter went forth fleeing from her presence,\nchanged of colour and absent of wits, and gave not over going\ntill she came to the house of El Abbas.\n\nWhen the prince saw her in this plight, he was as a sleeper\nawakened and said to her, \"What hath befallen thee? Set out to me\nthy case.\" \"God on thee,\" answered she, \"nevermore send me to\nMariyeh, and do thou protect me, so may God protect thee from the\nfires of hell!\" Then she related to him that which had bedded her\nwith Mariyeh; which when he heard, there took him the\nshamefastness of the generous and this was grievous unto him. The\nlove of Mariyeh fled forth of his heart and he said to the nurse,\n\"How much hadst thou of Mariyeh every month?\" \"Ten dinars,\"\nanswered she, and he said, \"Be not concerned.\" Then he put his\nhand to his poke and bringing out two hundred dinars, gave them\nto her and said, \"Take this for a whole year's wage and turn not\nagain to serve any one. When the year is out, I will give thee\ntwo years' wage, for that thou hast wearied thyself with us and\non account of the cutting off of thy dependence upon Mariyeh.\"\n\nMoreover, he gave her a complete suit of clothes and raising his\nhead to her, said, \"When thou toldest me that which Mariyeh had\ndone with thee, God rooted out the love of her from my heart, and\nnever again will she occur to my mind; so extolled be the\nperfection of Him who turneth hearts and eyes! It was she who was\nthe cause of my coming out from Yemen, and now the time is past\nfor which I engaged with my people and I fear lest my father levy\nhis troops and come forth in quest of me, for that he hath no\nchild other than myself and cannot brook to be parted from me;\nand on like wise is it with my mother.\" When the nurse heard his\nwords, she said to him, \"O my lord, and which of the kings is thy\nfather?\" \"My father is El Aziz, lord of Yemen and Nubia and the\nIslands[FN#91] of the Benou Kehtan and the Two Noble\nSanctuaries[FN#92] (God the Most High have them in His\nkeeping!),\" answered El Abbas; \"and whenas he taketh horse, there\nmount with him an hundred and twenty and four thousand horsemen,\nall smiters with the sword, let alone attendants and servants and\nfollowers, all of whom give ear unto my word and obey my\ncommandment.\" \"Why, then, O my lord,\" asked the nurse, \"didst\nthou conceal the secret of thy rank and lineage and passedst\nthyself off for a wayfarer? Alas for our disgrace before thee by\nreason of our shortcoming in rendering thee thy due! What shall\nbe our excuse with thee, and thou of the sons of the kings?\" But\nhe rejoined, \"By Allah, thou hast not fallen short! Nay, it is\nincumbent on me to requite thee, what while I live, though I be\nfar distant from thee.\"\n\nThen he called his servant Aamir and said to him, \"Saddle the\nhorses.\" When the nurse heard his words and indeed [she saw that]\nAamir brought him the horses and they were resolved upon\ndeparture, the tears ran down upon her cheeks and she said to\nhim, \"By Allah, thy separation is grievous to me, O solace of the\neye!\" Then said she, \"Where is the goal of thine intent, so we\nmay know thy news and solace ourselves with thy report?\" Quoth\nhe, \"I go hence to visit Akil, the son of my father's brother,\nfor that he hath his sojourn in the camp of Kundeh ben Hisham,\nand these twenty years have I not seen him nor he me; wherefore I\npurpose to repair to him and discover his news and return hither.\nThen will I go hence to Yemen, if it be the will of God the Most\nHigh.\"\n\nSo saying, he took leave of the woman and her husband and set\nout, intending for Akil, his father's brother's son. Now there\nwas between Baghdad and Akil's abiding-place forty days' journey;\nso El Abbas settled himself on the back of his courser and his\nservant Aamir mounted also and they fared forth on their way.\nPresently, El Abbas turned right and left and recited the\nfollowing verses:\n\nI am the champion-slayer, the warrior without peer; My foes I\n     slay, destroying the hosts, when I appear.\nTow'rds El Akil my journey I take; to visit him, The wastes in\n     praise and safety I traverse, without fear,\nAnd all the desert spaces devour, whilst to my rede, Or if in\n     sport or earnest,[FN#93] still Aamir giveth ear.\nWho letteth us or hind'reth our way, I spring on him, As\n     springeth lynx or panther upon the frighted deer;\nWith ruin I o'erwhelm him and abjectness and woe And cause him\n     quaff the goblet of death and distance drear.\nWell-ground my polished sword is and thin and keen of edge And\n     trenchant, eke, for smiting and long my steel-barbed spear.\nSo fell and fierce my stroke is, if on a mountain high It lit,\n     though all of granite, right through its midst 'twould\n     shear.\nNor troops have I nor henchmen nor one to lend me aid Save God,\n     to whom, my Maker, my voice in praise I rear.\n'Tis He who pardoneth errors alike to slave and free; On Him is\n     my reliance in good and evil cheer.\n\nThen they fell to journeying night and day, and as they went,\nbehold, they sighted a camp of the camps of the Arabs. So El\nAbbas enquired thereof and was told that it was the camp of the\nBenou Zuhreh. Now there were around them sheep and cattle, such\nas filled the earth, and they were enemies to El Akil, the cousin\nof El Abbas, upon whom they still made raids and took his cattle;\nwherefore he used to pay them tribute every year, for that he\navailed not to cope with them. When El Abbas came near the camp,\nhe dismounted from his courser and his servant Aamir also\ndismounted; and they set down the victual and ate their\nsufficiency and rested awhile of the day. Then said the prince to\nAamir, \"Fetch water and give the horses to drink and draw water\nfor us in thy water-bag, by way of provision for the road.\"\n\nSo Aamir took the water-skin and made for the water; but, when he\ncame to the well, behold, two young men with gazelles, and when\nthey saw him, they said to him, \"Whither wilt thou, O youth, and\nof which of the Arabs art thou?\" \"Harkye, lads,\" answered he,\n\"fill me my water-skin, for that I am a stranger man and a\nwayfarer and I have a comrade who awaiteth me.\" Quoth they, \"Thou\nart no wayfarer, but a spy from El Akil's camp.\" Then they took\nhim and carried him to [their king] Zuheir ben Shebib; and when\nhe came before him, he said to him, \"Of which of the Arabs art\nthou?\" Quoth Aamir, \"I am a wayfarer.\" And Zuheir said, \"Whence\ncomest thou and whither wilt thou?\" \"I am on my way to Akil,\"\nanswered Aamir. When he named Akil, those who were present were\nagitated; but Zuheir signed to them with his eyes and said to\nhim, \"What is thine errand with Akil?\" Quoth he, \"We would fain\nsee him, my friend and I.\"\n\nWhen Zuheir heard his words, he bade smite off his head; but his\nVizier said to him, \"Slay him not, till his friend be present.\"\nSo he commanded the two slaves to fetch his friend; whereupon\nthey repaired to El Abbas and called to him, saying, \"O youth,\nanswer the summons of King Zuheir.\" \"What would the king with\nme?\" asked he, and they answered, \"We know not.\" Quoth he, \"Who\ngave the king news of me?\" \"We went to draw water,\" answered\nthey, \"and found a man by the water. So we questioned him of his\ncase, but he would not acquaint us therewith; wherefore we\ncarried him perforce to King Zuheir, who questioned him of his\ncase and he told him that he was going to Akil. Now Akil is the\nking's enemy and he purposeth to betake himself to his camp and\nmake prize of his offspring and cut off his traces.\" \"And what,\"\nasked El Abbas, \"hath Akil done with King Zuheir?\" And they\nreplied, \"He engaged for himself that he would bring the king\nevery year a thousand dinars and a thousand she-camels, besides a\nthousand head of thoroughbred horses and two hundred black slaves\nand fifty slave-girls; but it hath reached the king that Akil\npurposeth to give nought of this; wherefore he is minded to go to\nhim. So hasten thou with us, ere the king be wroth with thee and\nwith us.\"\n\nThen said El Abbas to them, \"O youths, sit by my arms and my\nhorse till I return.\" But they answered, saying, \"By Allah, thou\nprolongest discourse with that which beseemeth not of words! Make\nhaste, or we will go with thy head, for indeed the king purposeth\nto slay thee and to slay thy comrade and take that which is with\nyou.\" When the prince heard this, his skin quaked and he cried\nout at them with a cry that made them tremble. Then he sprang\nupon his horse and settling himself in the saddle, galloped till\nhe came to the king's assembly, when he cried out at the top of\nhis voice, saying [\"To horse,] cavaliers!\" And levelled his spear\nat the pavilion wherein was Zuheir. Now there were about him a\nthousand smiters with the sword; but El Abbas fell in upon them\nand dispersed them from around him, and there abode none in the\ntent save Zuheir and his vizier.\n\nThen came up El Abbas to the door of the tent, and therein were\nfour-and-twenty golden doves; so he took them, after he had\nbeaten them down with the end of his lance. Then he called out,\nsaying, \"Harkye, Zuheir! Doth it not suffice thee that thou hast\nquelled El Akil's repute, but thou art minded to quell that of\nthose who sojourn round about him? Knowest thou not that he is of\nthe lieutenants of Kundeh ben [Hisham of the Benou] Sheiban, a\nman renowned for prowess? Indeed, covetise of him hath entered\ninto thee and jealousy of him hath gotten possession of thee.\nDoth it not suffice thee that thou hast orphaned his\nchildren[FN#94] and slain his men? By the virtue of the Chosen\nProphet, I will make thee drink the cup of death!\" So saying, he\ndrew his sword and smiting Zuheir on his shoulder, caused the\nsteel issue, gleaming, from the tendons of his throat. Then he\nsmote the vizier and clove his head in sunder.\n\nAs he was thus, behold, Aamir called out to him and said, \"O my\nlord, come to my help, or I am a dead man!\" So El Abbas went up\nto him and found him cast down on his back and chained with four\nchains to four pickets of iron. He loosed his bonds and said to\nhim, \"Go before me, O Aamir.\" So he fared on before him a little,\nand presently they looked, and behold, horsemen making to\nZuheir's succour, to wit, twelve thousand cavaliers, with Sehl\nben Kaab in their van, mounted upon a jet-black steed. He charged\nupon Aamir, who fled from him, then upon El Abbas, who said, \"O\nAamir, cleave fast to my horse and guard my back.\" Aamir did as\nhe bade him, whereupon El Abbas cried out at the folk and falling\nupon them, overthrew their braves and slew of them nigh two\nthousand cavaliers, whilst not one of them knew what was to do\nnor with whom he fought. Then said one of them to other, \"Verily,\nthe king is slain; so with whom do we wage war? Indeed ye flee\nfrom him; so do ye enter under his banners, or not one of you\nwill be saved.\"\n\nThereupon they all dismounted and putting off that which was upon\nthem of harness of war, came before El Abbas and tendered him\nallegiance and sued for his protection. So he held his hand from\nthem and bade them gather together the spoils. Then he took the\nriches and the slaves and the camels, and they all became his\nliege-men and his retainers, to the number (according to that\nwhich is said) of fifty thousand horse. Moreover, the folk heard\nof him and flocked to him from all sides; whereupon he divided\n[the spoil amongst them] and gave gifts and abode thus three\ndays, and there came presents to him. Then he bade set out for\nAkil's abiding-place; so they fared on six days and on the\nseventh day they came in sight of the camp. El Abbas bade his man\nAamir forego him and give Akil the glad news of his cousin's\ncoming. So he rode on to the camp and going in to Akil, gave him\nthe glad news of Zuheir's slaughter and the conquest of his\ntribe.\n\nAkil rejoiced in the coming of El Abbas and the slaughter of his\nenemy and all in his camp rejoiced also and cast dresses of\nhonour upon Aamir. Moreover, Akil bade go forth to meet El Abbas,\nand commanded that none, great or small, freeman or slave, should\ntarry behind. So they did his bidding and going forth all, met El\nAbbas at three parasangs' distance from the camp. When they met\nhim, they all dismounted from their horses and Akil and he\nembraced and clapped hands.[FN#95] Then they returned, rejoicing\nin the coming of El Abbas and the slaughter of their enemy, to\nthe camp, where tents were pitched for the new-comers and carpets\nspread and game killed and beasts slaughtered and royal\nguest-meals spread; and on this wise they abode twenty days, in\nthe enjoyment of all delight and solace of life.\n\nTo return to King El Aziz. When his son El Abbas left him, he was\ndesolated for him with an exceeding desolation, he and his\nmother; and when tidings of him tarried long and the appointed\ntime passed [and the prince returned not], the king caused public\nproclamation to be made, commanding all his troops to make ready\nto mount and go forth in quest of his son El Abbas at the end of\nthree days, after which time no cause of hindrance nor excuse\nshould be admitted unto any. So on the fourth day, the king bade\nnumber the troops, and behold, they were four-and-twenty thousand\nhorse, besides servants and followers. Accordingly, they reared\nthe standards and the drums beat to departure and the king set\nout [with his army], intending for Baghdad; nor did he cease to\nfare on with all diligence, till he came within half a day's\njourney of the city and bade his troops encamp in [a place there\ncalled] the Green Meadow. So they pitched the tents there, till\nthe country was straitened with them, and set up for the king a\npavilion of green brocade, broidered with pearls and jewels.\n\nWhen El Aziz had sat awhile, he summoned the mamelukes of his son\nEl Abbas, and they were five-and-twenty in number, besides half a\nscore slave-girls, as they were moons, five of whom the king had\nbrought with him and other five he had left with the prince's\nmother. When the mamelukes came before him, he cast over each of\nthem a mantle of green brocade and bade them mount like horses of\none and the same fashion and enter Baghdad and enquire concerning\ntheir lord El Abbas. So they entered the city and passed through\nthe [streets and] markets, and there abode in Baghdad nor old man\nnor boy but came forth to gaze on them and divert himself with\nthe sight of their beauty and grace and the goodliness of their\naspect and of their clothes and horses, for that they were even\nas moons. They gave not over going till they came to the royal\npalace, where they halted, and the king looked at them and seeing\ntheir beauty and the goodliness of their apparel and the\nbrightness of their faces, said, \"Would I knew of which of the\ntribes these are!\" And he bade the eunuch bring him news of them.\n\nSo he went out to them and questioned them of their case,\nwhereupon, \"Return to thy lord,\" answered they, \"and question him\nof Prince El Abbas, if he have come unto him, for that he left\nhis father King El Aziz a full-told year agone, and indeed\nlonging for him troubleth the king and he hath levied a part of\nhis army and his guards and is come forth in quest of his son, so\nhaply he may light upon tidings of him.\" Quoth the eunuch, \"Is\nthere amongst you a brother of his or a son?\" \"Nay, by Allah!\"\nanswered they. \"But we are all his mamelukes and the boughten of\nhis money, and his father El Aziz hath despatched us to make\nenquiry of him. So go thou to thy lord and question him of the\nprince and return to us with that which he shall answer you.\"\n\"And where is King El Aziz?\" asked the eunuch; and they replied,\n\"He is encamped in the Green Meadow.\"[FN#96]\n\nThe eunuch returned and told the king, who said, \"Indeed, we have\nbeen neglectful with regard to El Abbas. What shall be our excuse\nwith the king? By Allah, my soul misdoubted me that the youth was\nof the sons of the kings!\" The Lady Afifeh, his wife, saw him\nlamenting for [his usage of] El Abbas and said to him, \"O king,\nwhat is it thou regrettest with this exceeding regret?\" Quoth he,\n\"Thou knowest the stranger youth, who gave us the rubies?\"\n\"Assuredly,\" answered she; and he said, \"Yonder youths, who have\nhalted in the palace court, are his mamelukes, and his father\nKing El Aziz, lord of Yemen, hath pitched his camp in the Green\nMeadow; for he is come with his army to seek him, and the number\nof his troops is [four-and-] twenty thousand men.\" [Then he went\nout from her], and when she heard his words, she wept sore for\nhim and had compassion on his case and sent after him,\ncounselling him to send for the mamelukes and lodge them [in the\npalace] and entertain them.\n\nThe king gave ear to her counsel and despatching the eunuch for\nthe mamelukes, assigned them a lodging and said to them, \"Have\npatience, till the king give you tidings of your lord El Abbas.\"\nWhen they heard his words, their eyes ran over with plenteous\ntears, of their much longing for the sight of their lord. Then\nthe king bade the queen enter the privy chamber[FN#97] and let\ndown the curtain[FN#98] [before the door thereof]. So she did\nthis and he summoned them to his presence. When they stood before\nhim, they kissed the earth, to do him worship, and showed forth\ntheir breeding[FN#99] and magnified his dignity. He bade them\nsit, but they refused, till he conjured them by their lord El\nAbbas. So they sat down and he caused set before them food of\nvarious kinds and fruits and sweetmeats. Now within the Lady\nAfifeh's palace was an underground way communicating with the\npalace of the princess Mariyeh. So the queen sent after her and\nshe came to her, whereupon she made her stand behind the curtain\nand gave her to know that El Abbas was the king's son of Yemen\nand that these were his mamelukes. Moreover, she told her that\nthe prince's father had levied his troops and was come with his\narmy in quest of him and that he had pitched his camp in the\nGreen Meadow and despatched these mamelukes to make enquiry of\ntheir lord. So Mariyeh abode looking upon them and upon their\nbeauty and grace and the goodliness of their apparel, till they\nhad eaten their fill of food and the tables were removed;\nwhereupon the king recounted to them the story of El Abbas and\nthey took leave of him and went away.\n\nAs for the princess Mariyeh, when she returned to her palace, she\nbethought herself concerning the affair of El Abbas, repenting\nher of that which she had done, and the love of him took root in\nher heart. So, when the night darkened upon her, she dismissed\nall her women and bringing out the letters, to wit, those which\nEl Abbas had written, fell to reading them and weeping. She gave\nnot over weeping her night long, and when she arose in the\nmorning, she called a damsel of her slave-girls, Shefikeh by\nname, and said to her, \"O damsel, I purpose to discover to thee\nmine affair, and I charge thee keep my secret; to wit, I would\nhave thee betake thyself to the house of the nurse, who used to\nserve me, and fetch her to me, for that I have grave occasion for\nher.\"\n\nAccordingly, Shefikeh went out and repairing to the nurse's\nhouse, found her clad in apparel other[FN#100] than that which\nshe had been wont to wear aforetime. So she saluted her and said\nto her, \"Whence hadst thou this dress, than which there is no\ngoodlier?\" \"O Shefikeh,\" answered the nurse, \"thou deemest that I\nhave gotten[FN#101] no good save of thy mistress; but, by Allah,\nhad I endeavoured for her destruction, I had done [that which was\nmy right], for that she did with me what thou knowest[FN#102] and\nbade the eunuch beat me, without offence of me committed;\nwherefore do thou tell her that he, on whose behalf I bestirred\nmyself with her, hath made me quit of her and her humours, for\nthat he hath clad me in this habit and given me two hundred and\nfifty dinars and promised me the like thereof every year and\ncharged me serve none of the folk.\"\n\nQuoth Shefikeh, \"My mistress hath occasion for thee; so come thou\nwith me and I will engage to restore thee to thy dwelling in weal\nand safety.\" But the nurse answered, saying, \"Indeed, her palace\nis become forbidden[FN#103] to me and never again will I enter\ntherein, for that God (extolled be His perfection and exalted be\nHe!) of His favour and bounty hath rendered me independent of\nher.\" So Shefikeh returned to her mistress and acquainted her\nwith the nurse's words and that wherein she was of affluence;\nwhereupon Mariyeh confessed the unseemliness of her dealing with\nher and repented, whenas repentance profited her not; and she\nabode in that her case days and nights, whilst the fire of\nlonging flamed in her heart.\n\nMeanwhile, El Abbas abode with his cousin Akil twenty days, after\nwhich he made ready for the journey to Baghdad and letting bring\nthe booty he had gotten of King Zuheir, divided it between\nhimself and his cousin. Then he set out for Baghdad, and when he\ncame within two days' journey of the city, he called his servant\nAamir and bade him mount his charger and forego him with the\nbaggage-train and the cattle. So Aamir [took horse and] fared on\ntill he came to Baghdad, and the season of his entering was the\nfirst of the day; nor was there little child or hoary old man in\nthe city but came forth to divert himself with gazing on those\nflocks and herds and upon the goodliness of those slave-girls,\nand their wits were amazed at what they saw. Presently the news\nreached the king that the young man El Abbas, who had gone forth\nfrom him, was come back with herds and rarities and slaves and a\nmighty host and had taken up his sojourn without the city, whilst\nhis servant Aamir was presently come to Baghdad, so he might make\nready dwelling- places for his lord, wherein he should take up\nhis abode.\n\nWhen the king heard these tidings of Aamir, he sent for him and\nlet bring him before him; and when he entered his presence, he\nkissed the earth and saluted and showed forth his breeding and\ngreeted him with the goodliest of compliments. The king bade him\nraise his head and questioned him of his lord El Abbas; whereupon\nhe acquainted him with his tidings and told him that which had\nbetided him with King Zuheir and of the army that was become at\nhis commandment and of the spoil that he had gotten. Moreover, he\ngave him to know that El Abbas was coming on the morrow, and with\nhim more than fifty thousand cavaliers, obedient to his\ncommandment. When the king heard his speech, he bade decorate\nBaghdad and commanded [the inhabitants] to equip themselves with\nthe richest of their apparel, in honour of the coming of El\nAbbas. Moreover, he sent to give King El Aziz the glad tidings of\nhis son's return and acquainted him with that which he had heard\nfrom the prince's servant.\n\nWhen the news reached El Aziz, he rejoiced with an exceeding joy\nin the coming of his son and straightway took horse, he and all\nhis army, what while the trumpets sounded and the musicians\nplayed, that the earth quaked and Baghdad also trembled, and it\nwas a notable day. When Mariyeh beheld all this, she repented\nwith the uttermost of repentance of that which she had wroughten\nagainst El Abbas his due and the fires still raged in her vitals.\nMeanwhile, the troops[FN#104] sallied forth of Baghdad and went\nout to meet those of El Abbas, who had halted in a meadow called\nthe Green Island. When he espied the approaching host, he knew\nnot what they were; so he strained his sight and seeing horsemen\ncoming and troops and footmen, said to those about him, \"Among\nyonder troops are ensigns and banners of various kinds; but, as\nfor the great green standard that ye see, it is the standard of\nmy father, the which is reserved [unto him and never displayed\nsave] over his head, and [by this] I know that he himself is come\nout in quest of me.\" And he was certified of this, he and his\ntroops.\n\n[So he fared on towards them] and when he drew near unto them, he\nknew them and they knew him; whereupon they lighted down from\ntheir horses and saluting him, gave him joy of his safety and the\nfolk flocked to him. When he came to his father, they embraced\nand greeted each other a long time, whilst neither of them\navailed unto speech, for the greatness of that which betided them\nof joy in reunion. Then El Abbas bade the folk mount; so they\nmounted and his mamelukes surrounded him and they entered Baghdad\non the most magnificent wise and in the highest worship and\nglory.\n\nThe wife of the shopkeeper, to wit, the nurse, came out, with the\nrest of those who came out, to divert herself with gazing upon\nthe show, and when she saw El Abbas and beheld his beauty and the\ngoodliness of his army and that which he had brought back with\nhim of herds and slaves and slave-girls and mamelukes, she\nimprovised and recited the following verses:\n\nEl Abbas from Akil his stead is come again; Prize hath he made of\n     steeds and many a baggage-train;\nYea, horses hath he brought, full fair of shape and hue, Whose\n     collars, anklet-like, ring to the bridle-rein.\nTaper of hoofs and straight of stature, in the dust They prance,\n     as like a flood they pour across the plain;\nAnd on their saddles perched are warriors richly clad, That with\n     their hands do smite on kettle-drums amain.\nCouched are their limber spears, right long and lithe of point,\n     Keen- ground and polished sheer, amazing wit and brain.\nWho dares with them to cope draws death upon himself; Yea, of the\n     deadly lance incontinent he's slain.\nCome, then, companions mine, rejoice with me and say, \"All hail\n     to thee, O friend, and welcome fair and fain!\"\nFor whoso doth rejoice in meeting him shall have Largesse and\n     gifts galore at his dismounting gain.\n\nWhen the troops entered Baghdad, each of them alighted in his\npavilion, whilst El Abbas encamped apart in a place near the\nTigris and commanded to slaughter for the troops, each day, that\nwhich should suffice them of oxen and sheep and bake them bread\nand spread the tables. So the folk ceased not to come to him and\neat of his banquet. Moreover, all the people of the country came\nto him with presents and rarities and he requited them many times\nthe like of their gifts, so that the lands were filled with his\ntidings and the report of him was bruited abroad among the folk\nof the deserts and the cities.\n\nThen, when he rode to his house that he had bought, the\nshopkeeper and his wife came to him and gave him joy of his\nsafety; whereupon he ordered them three swift thoroughbred horses\nand ten dromedaries and an hundred head of sheep and clad them\nboth in sumptuous dresses of honour. Then he chose out ten\nslave-girls and ten black slaves and fifty horses and the like\nnumber of she- camels and three hundred head of sheep, together\nwith twenty ounces of musk and as many of camphor, and sent all\nthis to the King of Baghdad. When this came to Ins ben Cais, his\nwit fled for joy and he was perplexed wherewithal to requite him.\nMoreover, El Abbas gave gifts and largesse and bestowed dresses\nof honour upon great and small, each after the measure of his\nstation, save only Mariyeh; for unto her he sent nothing.\n\nThis was grievous to the princess and it irked her sore that he\nshould not remember her; so she called her slave- girl Shefikeh\nand said to her, \"Go to El Abbas and salute him and say to him,\n'What hindereth thee from sending my lady Mariyeh her part of thy\nbooty?'\" So Shefikeh betook herself to him and when she came to\nhis door, the chamberlains refused her admission, until they\nshould have gotten her leave and permission. When she entered, El\nAbbas knew her and knew that she had somewhat of speech [with\nhim]; so he dismissed his mamelukes and said to her, \"What is\nthine errand, O handmaid of good?\" \"O my lord,\" answered she, \"I\nam a slave-girl of the Princess Mariyeh, who kisseth thy hands\nand commendeth her salutation to thee. Indeed, she rejoiceth in\nthy safety and reproacheth thee for that thou breakest her heart,\nalone of all the folk, for that thy largesse embraceth great and\nsmall, yet hast thou not remembered her with aught of thy booty.\nIndeed, it is as if thou hadst hardened thy heart against her.\"\nQuoth he, \"Extolled be the perfection of him who turneth hearts!\nBy Allah, my vitals were consumed with the love of her\n[aforetime] and of my longing after her, I came forth to her from\nmy native land and left my people and my home and my wealth, and\nit was with her that began the hardheartedness and the cruelty.\nNevertheless, for all this, I bear her no malice and needs must I\nsend her somewhat whereby she may remember me; for that I abide\nin her land but a few days, after which I set out for the land of\nYemen.\"\n\nThen he called for a chest and bringing out thence a necklace of\nGreek handiwork, worth a thousand dinars, wrapped it in a mantle\nof green silk, set with pearls and jewels and inwrought with red\ngold, and joined thereto two caskets of musk and ambergris.\nMoreover, he put off upon the girl a mantle of Greek silk,\nstriped with gold, wherein were divers figures and semblants\ndepictured, never saw eyes its like. Therewithal the girl's wit\nfled for joy and she went forth from his presence and returned to\nher mistress. When she came in to her, she acquainted her with\nthat which she had seen of El Abbas and that which was with him\nof servants and attendants and [set out to her] the loftiness of\nhis station and gave her that which was with her.\n\nMariyeh opened the mantle, and when she saw that necklace, and\nindeed the place was illumined with the lustre thereof, she\nlooked at her slave-girl and said to her, \"By Allah, O Shefikeh,\none look at him were liefer to me than all that my hand\npossesseth! Would I knew what I shall do, whenas Baghdad is empty\nof him and I hear no tidings of him!\" Then she wept and calling\nfor inkhorn* and paper and pen of brass, wrote the following\nverses:\n\nStill do I yearn, whilst passion's fire flames in my liver aye;\n     For parting's shafts have smitten me and done my strength\n     away.\nOft for thy love as I would be consoled, my yearning turns\n     To-thee- ward still and my desires my reason still gainsay.\nMy transports I conceal for fear of those thereon that spy; Yet\n     down my cheeks the tears course still and still my case\n     bewray.\nNo rest is there for me, no life wherein I may delight, Nor\n     pleasant meat nor drink avails to please me, night or day.\nTo whom save thee shall I complain, of whom relief implore, Whose\n     image came to visit me, what while in dreams I lay?\nReproach me not for what I did, but be thou kind to one Who's\n     sick of body and whose heart is wasted all away.\nThe fire of love-longing I hide; severance consumeth me, A thrall\n     of care, for long desire to wakefulness a prey.\nMidmost the watches of the night I see thee, in a dream; A lying\n     dream, for he I love my love doth not repay.\nWould God thou knewest that for love of thee which I endure! It\n     hath indeed brought down on me estrangement and dismay.\nRead thou my writ and apprehend its purport, for my case This is\n     and fate hath stricken me with sorrows past allay.\nKnow, then, the woes that have befall'n a lover, neither grudge\n     Her secret to conceal, but keep her counsel still, I pray.\n\nThen she folded the letter and giving it to her slave-girl, bade\nher carry it to El Abbas and bring back his answer thereto.\nAccordingly, Shefikeh took the letter and carried it to the\nprince, after the doorkeeper had sought leave of him to admit\nher. When she came in to him, she found with him five damsels, as\nthey were moons, clad in [rich] apparel and ornaments; and when\nhe saw her, he said to her, \"What is thine occasion, O handmaid\nof good?\" So she put out her hand to him with the letter, after\nshe had kissed it, and he bade one of his slave-girls receive it\nfrom her. Then he took it from the girl and breaking it open,\nread it and apprehended its purport; whereupon \"We are God's and\nto Him we return!\" exclaimed he and calling for ink- horn and\npaper, wrote the following verses:\n\nI marvel for that to my love I see thee now incline, What time my\n     heart, indeed, is fain to turn away from thine.\nWhilere, the verses that I made it was thy wont to flout, Saying,\n     \"No passer by the way[FN#105] hath part in me or mine.\nHow many a king to me hath come, of troops and guards ensued, And\n     Bactrian camels brought with him, in many a laden line,\nAnd dromedaries, too, of price and goodly steeds and swift Of\n     many a noble breed, yet found no favour in my eyne!\"\nThen, after them came I to thee and union did entreat And unto\n     thee set forth at length my case and my design;\nYea, all my passion and desire and love-longing in verse, As\n     pearls in goodly order strung it were, I did enshrine.\nYet thou repaidst me with constraint, rigour and perfidy, To\n     which no lover might himself on any wise resign.\nHow many a bidder unto love, a secret-craving wight, How many a\n     swain, complaining, saith of destiny malign,\n\"How many a cup with bitterness o'erflowing have I quaffed! I\n     make my moan of woes, whereat it boots not to repine.\"\nQuoth thou, \"The goodliest of things is patience and its use: Its\n     practice still mankind doth guide to all that's fair and\n     fine.\"\nWherefore fair patience look thou use, for sure 'tis\n     praiseworthy; Yea, and its issues evermore are blessed and\n     benign;\nAnd hope thou not for aught from me, who reck not with a folk To\n     mix, who may with abjectness infect my royal line.\nThis is my saying; apprehend its purport, then, and know I may in\n     no wise yield consent to that thou dost opine.\n\nThen he folded the letter and sealing it, delivered it to the\ndamsel, who took it and carried it to her mistress. When the\nprincess read the letter and apprehended its contents, she said,\n\"Meseemeth he recalleth to me that which I did aforetime.\" Then\nshe called for inkhorn and paper and wrote the following verses:\n\nMe, till I stricken was therewith, to love thou didst excite, And\n     with estrangement now, alas! heap'st sorrows on my spright.\nThe sweet of slumber after thee I have forsworn; indeed The loss\n     of thee hath smitten me with trouble and affright.\nHow long shall I, in weariness, for this estrangement pine, What\n     while the spies of severance[FN#106] do watch me all the\n     night?\nMy royal couch have I forsworn, sequestering myself From all, and\n     have mine eyes forbid the taste of sleep's delight.\nThou taught'st me what I cannot bear; afflicted sore am I; Yea,\n     thou hast wasted me away with rigour and despite.\nYet, I conjure thee, blame me not for passion and desire, Me whom\n     estrangement long hath brought to sick and sorry plight.\nSore, sore doth rigour me beset, its onslaughts bring me near\n     Unto the straitness of the grave, ere in the shroud I'm\n     dight.\nSo be thou kind to me, for love my body wasteth sore, The thrall\n     of passion I'm become its fires consume me quite.\n\nMariyeh folded the letter and gave it to Shefikeh, bidding her\ncarry it to El Abbas. So she took it and going with it to his\ndoor, would have entered; but the chamberlains and serving-men\nforbade her, till they had gotten her leave from the prince. When\nshe went in to him, she found him sitting in the midst of the\nfive damsels aforesaid, whom his father had brought him. So she\ngave him the letter and he took it and read it. Then he bade one\nof the damsels, whose name was Khefifeh and who came from the\nland of China, tune her lute and sing upon the subject of\nseparation. So she came forward and tuning the lute, played\nthereon in four-and-twenty modes; after which she returned to the\nfirst mode and sang the following verses:\n\nUpon the parting day our loves from us did fare And left us to\n     endure estrangement and despair.\nWhenas the burdens all were bounden on and shrill The\n     camel-leader's call rang out across the air,\nFast flowed my tears; despair gat hold upon my soul And needs\n     mine eyelids must the sweet of sleep forbear.\nI wept, but those who spied to part us had no ruth On me nor on\n     the fires that in my vitals flare.\nWoe's me for one who burns for love and longing pain! Alas for\n     the regrets my heart that rend and tear!\nTo whom shall I complain of what is in my soul, Now thou art gone\n     and I my pillow must forswear?\nThe flames of long desire wax on me day by day And far away are\n     pitched the tent-poles of my fair.\nO breeze of heaven, from me a charge I prithee take And do not\n     thou betray the troth of my despair;\nWhenas thou passest by the dwellings of my love, Greet him for me\n     with peace, a greeting debonair,\nAnd scatter musk on him and ambergris, so long As time endures;\n     for this is all my wish and care.\n\nWhen the damsel had made an end of her song, El Abbas swooned\naway and they sprinkled on him rose-water, mingled with musk,\ntill he came to himself, when he called another damsel (now there\nwas on her of linen and clothes and ornaments that which\nbeggareth description, and she was endowed with brightness and\nloveliness and symmetry and perfection, such as shamed the\ncrescent moon, and she was a Turkish girl from the land of the\nGreeks and her name was Hafizeh) and said to her, \"O Hafizeh,\nclose thine eyes and tune thy lute and sing to us upon the days\nof separation.\" She answered him with \"Hearkening and obedience\"\nand taking the lute, tuned its strings and cried out from her\nhead,[FN#107] in a plaintive voice, and sang the following\nverses:\n\nO friends, the tears flow ever, in mockery of my pain; My heart\n     is sick for sev'rance and love-longing in vain.\nAll wasted is my body and bowels tortured sore; Love's fire on me\n     still waxeth, mine eyes with tears still rain.\nWhenas the fire of passion flamed in my breast, with tears, Upon\n     the day of wailing, to quench it I was fain.\nDesire hath left me wasted, afflicted, sore afraid, For the spy\n     knows the secret whereof I do complain.\nWhen I recall the season of love-delight with them, The sweet of\n     sleep forsakes me, my body wastes amain.\nThose who our parting plotted our sev'rance still delights; The\n     spies, for fearful prudence, their wish of us attain.\nI fear me for my body from sickness and unrest, Lest of the fear\n     of sev'rance it be betrayed and slain.\n\nWhen Hafizeh had made an end of her song, El Abbas said to her,\n\"Well done! Indeed, thou quickenest hearts from sorrows.\" Then he\ncalled another damsel of the daughters of the Medes, by name\nMerjaneh, and said to her, \"O Merjaneh, sing to me upon the days\nof separation.\" \"Hearkening and obedience,\" answered she and\nimprovising, sang the following verses:\n\n\"Fair patience practise, for thereon still followeth content.\" So\n     runs the rede 'mongst all that dwell in city or in tent.\nHow oft of dole have I made moan for love and longing pain, What\n     while my body for desire in mortal peril went!\nHow oft I've waked, how many a cup of sorrow have I drained,\n     Watching the stars of night go by, for sleepless\n     languishment!\nIt had sufficed me, had thy grace with verses come to me; My\n     expectation still on thee in the foredawns was bent.\nThen was my heart by that which caused my agitation seared, And\n     from mine eyelids still the tears poured down without\n     relent.\nYea, nevermore I ceased from that wherewith I stricken was; My\n     night with wakefulness was filled, my heart with dreariment.\nBut now hath Allah from my heart blotted the love of thee, After\n     for constancy I'd grown a name of wonderment.\nHence on the morrow forth I fare and leave your land behind; So\n     take your leave of us nor fear mishap or ill event.\nWhenas in body ye from us are far removed, would God I knew who\n     shall to us himself with news of you present!\nAnd who can tell if ever house shall us together bring In union\n     of life serene and undisturbed content?\n\nWhen Merjaneh had made an end of her song, the prince said to\nher, \"Well done, O damsel! Indeed, thou sayest a thing that had\noccurred to my mind and my tongue was like to speak it.\" Then he\nsigned to the fourth damsel, who was a Cairene, by name Sitt el\nHusn, and bade her tune her lute and sing to him upon the [same]\nsubject. So she tuned her lute and sang the following verses:\n\nFair patience use, for ease still followeth after stress And all\n     things have their time and ordinance no less.\nThough Fortune whiles to thee belike may be unjust, Her seasons\n     change and man's excused if he transgress.\nIn her revolving scheme, to bitter sweetness still Succeeds and\n     things become straight, after crookedness.\nThine honour, therefore, guard and eke thy secret keep, Nor save\n     to one free-born and true thy case confess.\nThe Lord's alternatives are these, wherewith He's wont The needy\n     wretch to ply and those in sore duresse.\n\nWhen El Abbas heard her verses, they pleased him and he said to\nher, \"Well done, O Sitt el Husn! Indeed, thou hast done away\ntrouble from my heart and [banished] the things that had occurred\nto my mind.\" Then he heaved a sigh and signing to the fifth\ndamsel, who was from the land of the Persians and whose name was\nMerziyeh (now she was the fairest of them all and the sweetest of\nspeech and she was like unto a splendid star, endowed with beauty\nand loveliness and brightness and perfection and justness of\nshape and symmetry and had a face like the new moon and eyes as\nthey were gazelle's eyes) and said to her, \"O Merziyeh, come\nforward and tune thy lute and sing to us on the [same] subject,\nfor indeed we are resolved upon departure to the land of Yemen.\"\nNow this damsel had met many kings and had consorted with the\ngreat; so she tuned her lute and sang the following verses:\n\nMay the place of my session ne'er lack thee I Oh, why, My heart's\n     love, hast thou saddened my mind and mine eye?[FN#108]\nBy thy ransom,[FN#109] who dwellest alone in my heart, In despair\n     for the loss of the loved one am I.\nSo, by Allah, O richest of all men in charms, Vouchsafe to a\n     lover, who's bankrupt well-nigh\nOf patience, thy whilom endearments again, That I never to any\n     divulged, nor deny\nThe approof of my lord, so my stress and unease I may ban and\n     mine enemies' malice defy,\nThine approof which shall clothe me in noblest attire And my rank\n     in the eyes of the people raise high.\n\nWhen she had made an end of her song, all who were in the\nassembly wept for the daintiness of her speech and the sweetness\nof her voice and El Abbas said to her, \"Well done, O Merziyeh I\nIndeed, thou confoundest the wits with the goodliness of thy\nverses and the elegance of thy speech.\" All this while Shefikeh\nabode gazing upon her, and when she beheld El Abbas his\nslave-girls and considered the goodliness of their apparel and\nthe nimbleness of their wits and the elegance of their speech,\nher reason was confounded. Then she sought leave of El Abbas and\nreturning to her mistress Mariyeh, without letter or answer,\nacquainted her with his case and that wherein he was of puissance\nand delight and majesty and venerance and loftiness of rank.\nMoreover, she told her what she had seen of the slave-girls and\ntheir circumstance and that which they had said and how they had\nmade El Abbas desireful of returning to his own country by the\nrecitation of verses to the sound of the strings.\n\nWhen the princess heard this her slave-girl's report, she wept\nand lamented and was like to depart the world. Then she clave to\nher pillow and said, \"O Shefikeh, I will instruct thee of\nsomewhat that is not hidden from God the Most High, and it is\nthat thou watch over me till God the Most High decree the\naccomplishment of His commandment, and when my days are ended,\ntake thou the necklace and the mantle that El Abbas gave me and\nreturn them to him. Indeed, I deem not he will live after me, and\nif God the Most High decree against him and his days come to an\nend, do thou give one charge to shroud us and bury us both in one\ngrave.\"\n\nThen her case changed and her colour paled; and when Shefikeh saw\nher mistress in this plight, she repaired to her mother and told\nher that the lady Mariyeh refused meat and drink. \"Since when\nhath this befallen her?\" asked the queen, and Shefikeh answered,\n\"Since yesterday;\" whereat the queen was confounded and betaking\nherself to her daughter, that she might enquire into her case,\nfound her as one dead. So she sat down at her head and Mariyeh\nopened her eyes and seeing her mother sitting by her, sat up for\nshamefastness before her. The queen questioned her of her case\nand she said, \"I entered the bath and it stupefied me and\nweakened me and left an exceeding pain in my head; but I trust in\nGod the Most High that it will cease.\"\n\nWhen her mother went out from her, Mariyeh fell to chiding the\ndamsel for that which she had done and said to her, \"Verily,\ndeath were leifer to me than this; so look thou discover not my\naffair to any and I charge thee return not to the like of this\nfashion.\" Then she swooned away and lay awhile without life, and\nwhen she came to herself, she saw Shefikeh weeping over her;\nwhereupon she took the necklace from her neck and the mantle from\nher body and said to the damsel, \"Lay them in a napkin of damask\nand carry them to El Abbas and acquaint him with that wherein I\nam for the persistence of estrangement and the effects of\nforbiddance.\" So Shefikeh took them and carried them to El Abbas,\nwhom she found in act to depart, for that he was about to take\nhorse for Yemen. She went in to him and gave him the napkin and\nthat which was therein, and when he opened it and saw what it\ncontained, to wit, the mantle and the necklace, his vexation was\nexcessive and his eyes were distorted, [so that the whites\nthereof appeared] and his rage was manifest in them.\n\nWhen Shefikeh saw that which betided him, she came forward and\nsaid to him, \"O bountiful lord, indeed my mistress returneth not\nthe mantle and the necklace despitefully; but she is about to\ndepart the world and thou hast the best right to them.\" \"And what\nis the cause of this?\" asked he. Quoth Shefikeh, \"Thou knowest.\nBy Allah, never among the Arabs nor the barbarians nor among the\nsons of the kings saw I a harder of heart than thou! Is it a\nlight matter to thee that thou troublest Mariyeh's life and\ncausest her mourn for herself and depart the world on account\nof[FN#110] thy youth? Indeed, thou wast the cause of her\nacquaintance with thee and now she departeth the world on thine\naccount, she whose like God the Most High hath not created among\nthe daughters of the kings.\"\n\nWhen El Abbas heard these words from the damsel, his heart irked\nhim for Mariyeh and her case was grievous to him; so he said to\nShefikeh, \"Canst thou avail to bring me in company with her, so\nhaply I may discover her affair and allay that which aileth her?\"\n\"Yes,\" answered the damsel, \"I can do that, and thine will be the\nbounty and the favour.\" So he arose and followed her, and she\nforewent him, till they came to the palace. Then she [opened and]\nlocked behind them four-and-twenty doors and made them fast with\nbolts; and when he came to Mariyeh, he found her as she were the\nsetting sun, cast down upon a rug of Taifi leather,[FN#111] among\ncushions stuffed with ostrich down, and not a limb of her\nquivered. When her maid saw her in this plight, she offered to\ncry out; but El Abbas said to her, \"Do it not, but have patience\ntill we discover her affair; and if God the Most High have\ndecreed the ending of her days, wait till thou have opened the\ndoors to me and I have gone forth. Then do what seemeth good to\nthee.\"\n\nSo saying, he went up to the princess and laying his hand upon\nher heart, found it fluttering like a doveling and the life yet\nclinging to[FN#112] her bosom. So he laid his hand upon her\ncheek, whereupon she opened her eyes and beckoning to her maid,\nsigned to her, as who should say, \"Who is this that treadeth my\ncarpet and transgresseth against me?\"[FN#113] \"O my lady,\"\nanswered Shefikeh, \"this is Prince El Abbas, for whose sake thou\ndepartest the world.\" When Mariyeh heard speak of El Abbas, she\nraised her hand from under the coverlet and laying it upon his\nneck, inhaled his odour awhile. Then she sat up and her colour\nreturned to her and they sat talking till a third part of the\nnight was past.\n\nPresently, the princess turned to her maid and bade her fetch\nthem somewhat of food and sweetmeats and dessert and fruits. So\nShefikeh brought what she desired and they ate and drank [and\nabode on this wise] without lewdness, till the night departed and\nthe day came. Then said El Abbas, \"Indeed, the day is come. Shall\nI go to my father and bid him go to thy father and seek thee of\nhim in marriage for me, in accordance with the Book of God the\nMost High and the Institutes of His Apostle (whom may He bless\nand keep!) so we may not enter into transgression?\" And Mariyeh\nanswered, saying, \"By Allah, it is well counselled of thee!\" So\nhe went away to his lodging and nought befell between them; and\nwhen the day lightened, she improvised and recited the following\nverses:\n\nO friends, the East wind waxes, the morning draweth near; A\n     plaintive voice[FN#114] bespeaks me and I rejoice to hear.\nUp, to our comrade's convent, that we may visit him And drink of\n     wine more subtle than dust;[FN#115] our trusty fere\nHath spent thereon his substance, withouten stint; indeed, In his\n     own cloak he wrapped it, he tendered it so dear.[FN#116]\nWhenas its jar was opened, the singers prostrate fell In worship\n     of its brightness, it shone so wonder-clear.\nThe priests from all the convent came flocking onto it: With\n     cries of joy and welcome their voices they did rear.\nWe spent the night in passing the cup, my mates and I, Till in\n     the Eastward heaven the day-star did appear.\nNo sin is there in drinking of wine, for it affords All that's\n     foretold[FN#117] of union and love and happy cheer.\nO morn, our loves that sunder'st, a sweet and easeful life Thou\n     dost for me prohibit, with thy regard austere.\nBe gracious, so our gladness may be fulfilled with wine And we of\n     our beloved have easance, without fear.\nThe best of all religions your love is, for in you Are love and\n     life made easeful, untroubled and sincere.\n\nMeanwhile, El Abbas betook himself to his father's camp, which\nwas pitched in the Green Meadow, by the side of the Tigris, and\nnone might make his way between the tents, for the much\ninterlacement of the tent-ropes. When the prince reached the\nfirst of the tents, the guards and servants came out to meet him\nfrom all sides and escorted him till he drew near the\nsitting-place of his father, who knew of his coming. So he issued\nforth of his pavilion and coming to meet his son, kissed him and\nmade much of him. Then they returned together to the royal\npavilion and when they had seated themselves and the guards had\ntaken up their station in attendance on them, the king said to El\nAbbas, \"O my son, make ready thine affair, so we may go to our\nown land, for that the folk in our absence are become as they\nwere sheep without a shepherd.\" El Abbas looked at his father and\nwept till he swooned away, and when he recovered from his swoon,\nhe improvised and recited the following verses:\n\nI clipped her[FN#118] in mine arms and straight grew drunken with\n     the scent Of a fresh branch that had been reared in\n     affluence and content.\n'Twas not of wine that I had drunk; her mouth's sweet honeyed\n     dews It was intoxicated me with bliss and ravishment.\nUpon the table of her cheek beauty hath writ, \"Alack, Her charms!\n     'Twere well thou refuge sought'st with God\n     incontinent.\"[FN#119]\nSince thou hast looked on her, mine eye, be easy, for by God Nor\n     mote nor ailment needst thou fear nor evil accident.\nBeauty her appanage is grown in its entirety, And for this cause\n     all hearts must bow to her arbitrament.\nIf with her cheek and lustre thou thyself adorn,[FN#120] thou'lt\n     find But chrysolites and gold, with nought of baser metal\n     blent.\nWhen love-longing for her sweet sake I took upon myself, The\n     railers flocked to me anon, on blame and chiding bent;\nBut on no wise was I affrayed nor turned from love of her; So let\n     the railer rave of her henceforth his heart's content.\nBy God, forgetfulness of her shall never cross my mind, What\n     while I wear the bonds of life nor when of death they're\n     rent\nAn if I live, in love of her I'll live, and if I die Of love and\n     longing for her sight, O rare! O excellent!\n\nWhen El Abbas had made an end of his verses, his father said to\nhim, \"I seek refuge for thee with God, O my son! Hast thou any\nwant unto which thou availest not, so I may endeavour for thee\ntherein and lavish my treasures in quest thereof?\" \"O father\nmine,\" answered El Abbas, \"I have, indeed, an urgent want, on\naccount whereof I came forth of my native land and left my people\nand my home and exposed myself to perils and stresses and became\nan exile from my country, and I trust in God that it may be\naccomplished by thine august endeavour.\" \"And what is thy want?\"\nasked the king. Quoth El Abbas, \"I would have thee go and demand\nme in marriage Mariyeh, daughter of the King of Baghdad, for that\nmy heart is distraught with love of her.\" And he recounted to his\nfather his story from first to last.\n\nWhen the king heard this from his son, he rose to his feet and\ncalling for his charger of state, took horse with four-and-twenty\namirs of the chief officers of his empire. Then he betook himself\nto the palace of the King of Baghdad, who, when he saw him\ncoming, bade his chamberlains open the doors to him and going\ndown himself to meet him, received him with all worship and\nhospitality and entreated him with the utmost honour. Moreover,\nhe carried him [and his suite] into the palace and causing make\nready for them carpets and cushions, sat down upon a chair of\ngold, with traverses of juniper- wood, set with pearls and\njewels. Then he bade bring sweetmeats and confections and\nodoriferous flowers and commanded to slaughter four-and-twenty\nhead of sheep and the like of oxen and make ready geese and\nfowls, stuffed and roasted, and pigeons and spread the tables;\nnor was it long before the meats were set on in dishes of gold\nand silver. So they ate till they had enough and when they had\neaten their fill, the tables were removed and the wine-service\nset on and the cups and flagons ranged in order, whilst the\nmamelukes and the fair slave- girls sat down, with girdles of\ngold about their middles, inlaid with all manner pearls and\ndiamonds and emeralds and rubies and other jewels. Moreover, the\nking bade fetch the musicians; so there presented themselves\nbefore him a score of damsels, with lutes and psalteries and\nrebecks, and smote upon instruments of music, on such wise that\nthey moved the assembly to delight.\n\nThen said El Aziz to the King of Baghdad, \"I would fain speak a\nword to thee; but do thou not exclude from us those who are\npresent. If thou consent unto my wish, that which is ours shall\nbe thine and that which is incumbent on thee shall be incumbent\non us,[FN#121] and we will be to thee a mighty aid against all\nenemies and opposites.\" Quoth Ins ben Cais, \"Say what thou wilt,\nO King, for indeed thou excellest in speech and attainest [the\nmark] in that which them sayest\" So El Aziz said to him,\" I\ndesire that thou give thy daughter Mariyeh in marriage to my son\nEl Abbas, for thou knowest that wherewithal he is gifted of\nbeauty and loveliness and brightness and perfection and how he\nbeareth himself in the frequentation of the valiant and his\nconstancy in the stead of smiting and thrusting.\" \"By Allah, O\nking,\" answered Ins ben Cais, \"of my love for Mariyeh, I have\nappointed her disposal to be in her own hand; wherefore,\nwhomsoever she chooseth of the folk, I will marry her to him.\"\n\nThen he arose and going in to his daughter, found her mother with\nher; so he set out to them the case and Mariyeh said, \"O father\nmine, my wish is subject unto[FN#122] thy commandment and my will\nensueth thy will; so whatsoever thou choosest, I am still\nobedient unto thee and under thy dominion.\" Therewithal the King\nknew that Mariyeh inclined unto El Abbas; so he returned\nforthright to King El Aziz and said to him, \"May God amend the\nKing! Verily, the occasion is accomplished and there is no\nopposition unto that which thou commandest\" Quoth El Aziz, \"By\nGod's leave are occasions accomplished. How deemest thou, O King,\nof fetching El Abbas and drawing up the contract of marriage\nbetween Mariyeh and him?\" And Ins ben Cais answered, saying,\n\"Thine be it to decide.\"\n\nSo El Aziz sent after his son and acquainted him with that which\nhad passed; whereupon El Abbas called for four-and-twenty males\nand half a score horses [and as many camels] and loaded the mules\nwith pieces of silk and rags of leather and boxes of camphor and\nmusk and the camels [and horses] with chests of gold and silver.\nMoreover, he took the richest of the stuffs and wrapping them in\npieces of gold-striped silk, laid them on the heads of porters,\nand they fared on with the treasures till they reached the King\nof Baghdad's palace, whereupon all who were present dismounted in\nhonour of El Abbas and escorting him to the presence of King Ins\nben Cais, displayed unto the latter all that they had with them\nof things of price. The king bade carry all this into the harem\nand sent for the Cadis and the witnesses, who drew up the\ncontract and married Mariyeh to Prince El Abbas, whereupon the\nlatter commanded to [slaughter] a thousand head of sheep and five\nhundred buffaloes. So they made the bride-feast and bade thereto\nall the tribes of the Arabs, Bedouins and townsfolk, and the\ntables abode spread for the space of ten days.\n\nThen El Abbas went in to Mariyeh in a happy and praiseworthy\nhour[FN#123] and found her an unpierced pearl and a goodly filly\nthat had never been mounted; wherefore he rejoiced and was glad\nand made merry, and care and sorrow ceased from him and his life\nwas pleasant and trouble departed and he abode with her in the\ngladsomest of case and in the most easeful of life, till seven\ndays were past, when King El Aziz determined to set out and\nreturn to his kingdom and bade his son seek leave of his\nfather-in-law to depart with his wife to his own country. [So El\nAbbas bespoke King Ins of this] and he granted him the leave he\nsought; whereupon he chose out a red camel, taller[FN#124] than\nthe [other] camels, and mounting Mariyeh in a litter thereon,\nloaded it with apparel and ornaments.\n\nThen they spread the ensigns and the standards, whilst the drums\nbeat and the trumpets sounded, and set out upon the homeward\njourney. The King of Baghdad rode forth with them and brought\nthem three days' journey on their way, after which he took leave\nof them and returned with his troops to Baghdad. As for King El\nAziz and his son, they fared on night and day and gave not over\ngoing till there abode but three days' journey between them and\nYemen, when they despatched three men of the couriers to the\nprince's mother [to acquaint her with their return], safe and\nladen with spoil, bringing with them Mariyeh, the king's daughter\nof Baghdad. When the queen-mother heard this, her wit fled for\njoy and she adorned El Abbas his slave-girls after the goodliest\nfashion. Now he had ten slave-girls, as they were moons, whereof\nhis father had carried five with him to Baghdad, as hath\naforetime been set out, and other five abode with his mother.\nWhen the dromedary-posts[FN#125] came, they were certified of the\napproach of El Abbas, and when the sun rose and their standards\nappeared, the prince's mother came out to meet her son; nor was\nthere great or small, old man or infant, but went forth that day\nto meet the king.\n\nThe drums of glad tidings beat and they entered in the utmost of\nworship and magnificence. Moreover, the tribes heard of them and\nthe people of the towns and brought them the richest of presents\nand the costliest of rarities and the prince's mother rejoiced\nwith an exceeding joy. Then they slaughtered beasts and made\nmighty bride-feasts to the people and kindled fires, that it\nmight be visible afar to townsman [and Bedouin] that this was the\nhouse of the guest-meal and the wedding, festival, to the intent\nthat, if any passed them by, [without partaking of their\nhospitality], it should be of his own fault[FN#126] So the folk\ncame to them from all parts and quarters and on this wise they\nabode days and months.\n\nThen the prince's mother bade fetch the five slave-girls to that\nassembly; whereupon they came and the ten damsels foregathered.\nThe queen seated five of them on her son's right hand and other\nfive on his left and the folk assembled about them. Then she bade\nthe five who had remained with her speak forth somewhat of verse,\nso they might entertain therewith the assembly and that El Abbas\nmight rejoice therein. Now she had clad them in the richest of\nraiment and adorned them with trinkets and ornaments and\nwroughten work of gold and silver and collars of gold, set with\npearls and jewels. So they came forward, with harps and lutes and\npsalteries and recorders and other instruments of music before\nthem, and one of them, a damsel who came from the land of China\nand whose name was Baoutheh, advanced and tightened the strings\nof her lute. Then she cried out from the top of her head[FN#127]\nand improvising, sang the following verses:\n\nUnto its pristine lustre your land returned and more, Whenas ye\n     came, dispelling the gloom that whiles it wore.\nOur stead, that late was desert, grew green and eke our trees,\n     That barren were, grew loaded with ripened fruits galore.\nYea, to the earth that languished for lack of rain, the clouds\n     Were bounteous; so it flourished and plenteous harvests\n     bore;\nAnd troubles, too, forsook us, who tears like dragons' blood, O\n     lordings, for your absence had wept at every pore.\nIndeed, your long estrangement hath caused my bowels yearn. Would\n     God I were a servant in waiting at your door!\n\nWhen she had made an end of her song, all who were present were\nmoved to delight and El Abbas rejoiced in this. Then he bade the\nsecond damsel sing somewhat on the like subject. So she came\nforward and tuning the strings of her harp, which was of balass\nruby,[FN#128] warbled a plaintive air and improvising, sang the\nfollowing verses;\n\nThe absent ones' harbinger came us unto With tidings of those\n     who[FN#129] had caused us to rue.\n\"My soul be thy ransom,\"quoth I,\"for thy grace! Indeed, to the\n     oath that thou swor'st thou wast true.\"\nOn the dear nights of union, in you was our joy, But afflicted\n     were we since ye bade us adieu.\nYou swore you'd be faithful to us and our love, And true to your\n     oath and your troth-plight were you;\nAnd I to you swore that a lover I was; God forbid that with\n     treason mine oath I ensue!\nYea, \"Welcome! Fair welcome to those who draw near!\" I called out\n     aloud, as to meet you I flew.\nThe dwellings, indeed, one and all, I adorned, Bewildered and\n     dazed with delight at your view;\nFor death in your absence to us was decreed; But, when ye came\n     back, we were quickened anew.\n\nWhen she had made an end of her verses, El Abbas bade the third\ndamsel, who came from Samarcand of the Persians and whose name\nwas Rummaneh, sing, and she answered with \"Hearkening and\nobedience.\" Then she took the psaltery and crying out from the\nmidst of her bead[FN#130] improvised and sang the following\nverses:\n\nMy watering lips, that cull the rose of thy soft cheek, declare\n     My basil,[FN#131] lily mine, to be the myrtles of thy hair.\nSandhill[FN#132] and down[FN#133] betwixt there blooms a yellow\n     willow-flower,[FN#134] Pomegranate-blossoms[FN#135] and for\n     fruits pomegranates[FN#136] that doth bear.\nHis eyelids' sorcery from mine eyes hath banished sleep; since he\n     From me departed, nought see I except a drowsy fair.[FN#137]\nHe shot me with the shafts of looks launched from an\n     eyebrow's[FN#138] bow; A chamberlain[FN#139] betwixt his\n     eyes hath driven me to despair.\nMy heart belike shall his infect with softness, even as me His\n     body with disease infects, of its seductive air.\nYet, if with him forgotten be the troth-plight of our loves, I\n     have a king who of his grace will not forget me e'er.\nHis sides the tamarisk's slenderness deride, so lithe they are,\n     Whence for conceit in his own charms still drunken doth he\n     fare.\nWhenas he runs, his feet still show like wings,[FN#140] and for\n     the wind When was a rider found, except King Solomon it\n     were?[FN#141]\n\nTherewithal El Abbas smiled and her verses pleased him. Then he\nbade the fourth damsel come forward and sing. Now she was from\nthe land of Morocco and her name was Belekhsha. So she came\nforward and taking the lute and the psaltery, tightened the\nstrings thereof and smote thereon in many modes; then returned to\nthe first mode and improvising, sang the following verses:\n\nWhen in the sitting-chamber we for merry-making sate, With thine\n     eyes' radiance the place thou didst illuminate\nAnd pliedst us with cups of wine, whilst from the necklace\n     pearls[FN#142] A strange intoxicating bliss withal did\n     circulate,\nWhose subtleness might well infect the understanding folk; And\n     secrets didst thou, in thy cheer, to us communicate.\nWhenas we saw the cup, forthright we signed to past it round And\n     sun and moon unto our eyes shone sparkling from it straight.\nThe curtain of delight, perforce, we've lifted through the\n     friend,[FN#143] For tidings of great joy, indeed, there came\n     to us of late.\nThe camel-leader singing came with the belov'd; our wish\n     Accomplished was and we were quit of all the railers' prate.\nWhen clear'd my sky was by the sweet of our foregathering And not\n     a helper there remained to disuniting Fate,\nI shut myself up with my love; no spy betwixt us was; We feared\n     no enemies' despite, no envious neighbour's hate.\nLife with our loves was grown serene, estrangement was at end:\n     Our dear ones all delight of love vouchsafed to us elate,\nSaying, \"Thy fill of union take; no spy is there on us, Whom we\n     should fear, nor yet reproach our gladness may abate.\"\nOur loves are joined and cruelty at last is done away; Ay, and\n     the cup of love-delight 'twixt us doth circulate.\nUpon yon be the peace of God! May all prosperity, For what's\n     decreed of years and lives, upon you ever wait!\n\nWhen Belekhsha had made an end of her verses, all present were\nmoved to delight and El Abbas said to her, \"Well done, O damsel!\"\nThen he bade the fifth damsel come forward and sing. Now she was\nfrom the land of Syria and her name was Rihaneh; she was\nsurpassing of voice and when she appeared in an assembly, all\neyes were fixed upon her. So she came forward and taking the\nrebeck (for that she was used to play upon [all manner]\ninstruments) improvised and sang the following verses:\n\nYour coming to-me-ward, indeed, with \"Welcome! fair welcome!\" I\n     hail. Your sight to me gladness doth bring and banisheth\n     sorrow and bale;\nFor love with your presence grows sweet, untroubled and life is\n     serene And the star of our fortune burns bright, that clouds\n     in your absence did veil.\nYea, by Allah, my longing for you ne'er waneth nor passetb away;\n     For your like among creatures is rare and sought for in\n     mountain and vale.\nAsk mine eyes whether slumber hath lit on their lids since the\n     hour of your loss Or if aye on a lover they've looked. Nay,\n     an ye believe not their tale,\nMy heart, since the leave-taking day afflicted, will tell of my\n     case, And my body, for love and desire grown wasted and\n     feeble and frail.\nCould they who reproach me but see my sufferings, their hearts\n     would relent; They'd marvel, indeed, at my case and the loss\n     of my loved ones bewail.\nYea, they'd join me in pouring forth tears and help me my woes to\n     lament, And like unto me they'd become all wasted and\n     tortured and pale.\nHow long did the heart for thy love that languished with longing\n     endure A burden of passion, 'neath which e'en mountains\n     might totter and fail!\nBy Allah, what sorrows and woes to my soul for thy sake were\n     decreed! My heart is grown hoar, ere eld's snows have left\n     on my tresses their trail.\nThe fires in my vitals that rage if I did but discover to view,\n     Their ardour the world to consume, from the East to the\n     West, might avail.\nBut now unto me of my loves accomplished are joyance and cheer\n     And those whom I cherish my soul with the wine of\n     contentment regale.\nOur Lord, after sev'rance, with them hath conjoined us, for he\n     who doth good Shall ne'er disappointed abide and kindnesses\n     kindness entail.\n\nWhen King El Aziz heard the damsel's song, her speech and her\nverses pleased him and he said to El Abbas, \"O my son, verily,\nthese damsels are weary with long versifying, and indeed they\nmake us yearn after the dwellings and the homesteads with the\ngoodliness of their songs. Indeed, these five have adorned our\nassembly with the excellence of their melodies and have done well\nin that which they have said before those who are present;\nwherefore we counsel thee to enfranchise them for the love of God\nthe Most High.\" Quoth El Abbas, \"There is no commandment but thy\ncommandment;\" and he enfranchised the ten damsels in the\nassembly; whereupon they kissed the hands of the king and his son\nand prostrated themselves in thanksgiving to God the Most High.\nThen they put off that which was upon them of ornaments and\nlaying aside the lutes [and other] instruments of music, clave to\ntheir houses, veiled, and went not forth.[FN#144]\n\nAs for King El Aziz, he lived after this seven years and was\nadmitted to the mercy of God the Most High; whereupon his son El\nAbbas carried him forth to burial on such wise as beseemeth unto\nkings and let make recitations and readings of the Koran, in\nwhole or in part, over his tomb. He kept up the mourning for his\nfather a full-told month, at the end of which time he sat down on\nthe throne of the kingship and judged and did justice and\ndistributed silver and gold. Moreover, he loosed all who were in\nthe prisons and abolished grievances and customs dues and did the\noppressed justice of the oppressor; wherefore the people prayed\nfor him and loved him and invoked on him endurance of glory and\nkingship and length of continuance [on life] and eternity of\nprosperity and happiness. Moreover, the troops submitted to him\nand the hosts from all parts of the kingdom, and there came to\nhim presents from all the lands. The kings obeyed him and many\nwere his troops and his grandees, and his subjects lived with him\nthe most easeful and prosperous of lives.\n\nMeanwhile, he ceased not, he and his beloved, Queen Mariyeh, in\nthe most delightsome of life and the pleasantest thereof, and he\nwas vouchsafed by her children; and indeed there befell\nfriendship and love between them and the longer their\ncompanionship was prolonged, the more their love waxed, so that\nthey became unable to endure from each other a single hour, save\nthe time of his going forth to the Divan, when he would return to\nher in the utterest that might be of longing. Aud on this wise\nthey abode in all solace and delight of life, till there came to\nthem the Destroyer of Delights and the Sunderer of Companies. So\nextolled be the perfection of Him whose kingdom endureth for\never, who is never heedless neither dieth nor sleepeth! This is\nall that hath come down to us of their story, and so peace [be on\nyou!]\n\n\n\n\n\n                SHEHRZAD AND SHEHRIYAR.[FN#145]\n\n\n\nKing Shehriyar marvelled [at this story[FN#146]] and said \"By\nAllah, verily, injustice slayeth its folk!\"[FN#147] And he was\nedified by that wherewith Shehrzad bespoke him and sought help of\nGod the Most High. Then said he to her, \"Tell me another of thy\nstories, O Shehrzad; let it be a pleasant one and this shall be\nthe completion of the story-telling.\" \"With all my heart,\"\nanswered Shehrzad. \"It hath reached me, O august King, that a man\nonce said to his fellows, 'I will set forth to you a\nmeans[FN#148] of security[FN#149] against vexation.[FN#150] A\nfriend of mine once related to me and said, \"We attained [whiles]\nto security[FN#151] against vexation,[FN#152]and the origin of it\nwas other than this; to wit, it was as follows.[FN#153]\n\n\n\n\n\n                 THE TWO KINGS AND THE VIZIER'S\n                       DAUGHTERS.[FN#154]\n\n\n\n[Aforetime] I journeyed in [many] lands and climes and towns and\nvisited the great cities and traversed the ways and [exposed\nmyself to] dangers and hardships. Towards the last of my life, I\nentered a city [of the cities of China],[FN#155] wherein was a\nking of the Chosroes and the Tubbas[FN#156] and the\nCaesars.[FN#157] Now that city had been peopled with its\ninhabitants by means of justice and equitable dealing; but its\n[then] king was a tyrant, who despoiled souls and [did away]\nlives; there was no wanning oneself at his fire,[FN#158] for that\nindeed he oppressed the true believers and wasted the lands. Now\nhe had a younger brother, who was [king] in Samarcand of the\nPersians, and the two kings abode a while of time, each in his\nown city and place, till they yearned unto each other and the\nelder king despatched his vizier in quest of his younger brother.\n\nWhen the vizier came to the King of Samarcand [and acquainted him\nwith his errand], he submitted himself to the commandment [of his\nbrother and made answer] with 'Hearkening and obedience.' Then he\nequipped himself and made ready for the journey and brought forth\nhis tents and pavilions. A while after midnight, he went in to\nhis wife, that he might take leave of her, and found with her a\nstrange man, sleeping with her in one bed. So he slew them both\nand dragging them out by the feet, cast them away and set forth\nincontinent on his journey. When he came to his brother's court,\nthe latter rejoiced in him with an exceeding joy and lodged him\nin the pavilion of entertainment, [to wit, the guest-house,]\nbeside his own palace. Now this pavilion overlooked a garden\nbelonging to the elder king and there the younger brother abode\nwith him some days. Then he called to mind that which his wife\nhad done with him and remembered him of her slaughter and\nbethought him how he was a king, yet was not exempt from the\nvicissitudes of fortune; and this wrought upon him with an\nexceeding despite, so that it caused him abstain from meat and\ndrink, or, if he ate anything, it profited him not.\n\nWhen his brother saw him on this wise, he doubted not but that\nthis had betided him by reason of severance from his people and\nfamily and said to him, 'Come, let us go forth a-hunting.' But he\nrefused to go with him; so the elder brother went forth to the\nchase, whilst the younger abode in the pavilion aforesaid. As he\nwas diverting himself by looking out upon the garden from the\nwindow of the palace, behold, he saw his brother's wife and with\nher ten black slaves and as many slave-girls. Each slave laid\nhold of a damsel [and swived her] and another slave [came forth\nand] did the like with the queen; and when they had done their\noccasions, they all returned whence they came. Therewithal there\nbetided the King of Samarcand exceeding wonder and solacement and\nhe was made whole of his malady, little by little.\n\nAfter a few days, his brother returned and finding him healed of\nhis sickness, said to him, 'Tell me, O my brother, what was the\ncause of thy sickness and thy pallor, and what is the cause of\nthe return of health to thee and of rosiness to thy face after\nthis?' So he acquainted him with the whole case and this was\ngrievous to him; but they concealed their affair and agreed to\nleave the kingship and fare forth pilgrim-wise, wandering at a\nventure, for they deemed that there had befallen none the like of\nthis which had befallen them. [So they went forth and wandered on\nat hazard] and as they journeyed, they saw by the way a woman\nimprisoned in seven chests, whereon were five locks, and sunken\nin the midst of the salt sea, under the guardianship of an Afrit;\nyet for all this that woman issued forth of the sea and opened\nthose locks and coming forth of those chests, did what she would\nwith the two brothers, after she had circumvented the Afrit.\n\nWhen the two kings saw that woman's fashion and how she\ncircumvented the Afrit, who had lodged her at the bottom of the\nsea, they turned back to their kingdoms and the younger betook\nhimself to Samarcand, whilst the elder returned to China and\nestablished unto himself a custom in the slaughter of women, to\nwit, his vizier used to bring him a girl every night, with whom\nhe lay that night, and when he arose in the morning, he gave her\nto the vizier and bade him put her to death. On this wise he\nabode a great while, whilst the people murmured and the creatures\n[of God] were destroyed and the commons cried out by reason of\nthat grievous affair whereinto they were fallen and feared the\nwrath of God the Most High, dreading lest He should destroy them\nby means of this. Still the king persisted in that fashion and in\nthat his blameworthy intent of the killing of women and the\ndespoilment of the curtained ones,[FN#159] wherefore the girls\nsought succour of God the Most High and complained to Him of the\ntyranny of the king and of his oppressive dealing with them.\n\nNow the king's vizier had two daughters, own sisters, the elder\nof whom had read books and made herself mistress of [all]\nsciences and studied the writings of the sages and the histories\nof the boon-companions,[FN#160] and she was possessed of abundant\nwit and knowledge galore and surpassing apprehension. She heard\nthat which the folk suffered from the king and his despiteous\nusage of their children; whereupon compassion gat hold upon her\nfor them and jealousy and she besought God the Most High that He\nwould bring the king to renounce that his heresy,[FN#161] and God\nanswered her prayer. Then she took counsel with her younger\nsister and said to her, 'I mean to contrive somewhat for the\nliberation of the people's children; and it is that I will go up\nto the king [and offer myself to him], and when I come to his\npresence, I will seek thee. When thou comest in to me and the\nking hath done his occasion [of me], do thou say to me, 'O my\nsister, let me hear and let the king hear a story of thy goodly\nstories, wherewithal we may beguile the waking hours of our\nnight, till we take leave of each other.' 'It is well,' answered\nthe other. 'Surely this contrivance will deter the king from his\nheresy and thou shalt be requited with exceeding favour and\nabounding recompense in the world to come, for that indeed thou\nadventurest thyself and wilt either perish or attain to thy\ndesire.'\n\nSo she did this and fair fortune aided her and the Divine favour\nwas vouchsafed unto her and she discovered her intent to her\nfather, who forbade her therefrom, fearing her slaughter.\nHowever, she repeated her speech to him a second and a third\ntime, but he consented not. Then he cited unto her a parable,\nthat should deter her, and she cited him a parable in answer to\nhis, and the talk was prolonged between them and the adducing of\ninstances, till her father saw that he availed not to turn her\nfrom her purpose and she said to him, 'Needs must I marry the\nking, so haply I may be a sacrifice for the children of the\nMuslims; either I shall turn him from this his heresy or I shall\ndie.' When the vizier despaired of dissuading her, he went up to\nthe king and acquainted him with the case, saying, 'I have a\ndaughter and she desireth to give herself to the king.' Quoth the\nking, 'How can thy soul consent unto this, seeing that thou\nknowest I lie but one night with a girl and when I arise on the\nmorrow, I put her to death, and it is thou who slayest her, and\nthou hast done this again and again?' 'Know, O king,' answered\nthe vizier, 'that I have set forth all this to her, yet consented\nshe not unto aught, but needs must she have thy company and still\nchooseth to come to thee and present herself before thee,\nnotwithstanding that I have cited to her the sayings of the\nsages; but she hath answered me to the contrary thereof with more\nthan that which I said to her.' And the king said, 'Bring her to\nme this night and to-morrow morning come thou and take her and\nput her to death; and by Allah, an thou slay her not, I will slay\nthee and her also!'\n\nThe vizier obeyed the king's commandment and going out from\nbefore him, [returned to his own house. When it was night, he\ntook his elder daughter and carried her up to the king; and when\nshe came into his presence,] she wept; whereupon quoth he to her,\n'What causeth thee weep? Indeed, it was thou who willedst this.'\nAnd she answered, saying, 'I weep not but for longing after my\nlittle sister; for that, since we grew up, I and she, I have\nnever been parted from her till this day; so, if it please the\nking to send for her, that I may look on her and take my fill of\nher till the morning, this were bounty and kindness of the king.'\n\nAccordingly, the king bade fetch the girl [and she came]. Then\nthere befell that which befell of his foregathering with the\nelder sister, and when he went up to his couch, that he might\nsleep, the younger sister said to the elder, 'I conjure thee by\nAllah, O my sister, an thou be not asleep, tell us a story of thy\ngoodly stories, wherewithal we may beguile the watches of our\nnight, against morning come and parting.' 'With all my heart,'\nanswered she and fell to relating to her, whilst the king\nlistened. Her story was goodly and delightful, and whilst she was\nin the midst of telling it, the dawn broke. Now the king's heart\nclave to the hearing of the rest of the story; so he respited her\ntill the morrow, and when it was the next night, she told him a\nstory concerning the marvels of the lands and the extraordinary\nchances of the folk, that was yet stranger and rarer than the\nfirst. In the midst of the story, the day appeared and she was\nsilent from the permitted speech. So he let her live till the\nensuing night, so he might hear the completion of the story and\nafter put her to death.\n\nMeanwhile, the people of the city rejoiced and were glad and\nblessed the vizier's daughter, marvelling for that three days had\npassed and that the king had not put her to death and exulting in\nthat, [as they deemed,] he had turned [from his purpose] and\nwould never again burden himself with blood-guiltiness against\nany of the maidens of the city. Then, on the fourth night, she\nrelated to him a still more extraordinary story, and on the fifth\nnight she told him anecdotes of kings and viziers and notables.\nOn this wise she ceased not [to do] with him [many] days and\nnights, what while the king still said in himself, 'When I have\nheard the end of the story, I will put her to death,' and the\npeople waxed ever in wonder and admiration. Moreover, the folk of\nthe provinces and cities heard of this thing, to wit, that the\nking had turned from his custom and from that which he had\nimposed upon himself and had renounced his heresy, wherefore they\nrejoiced and the folk returned to the capital and took up their\nabode therein, after they had departed thence; yea, they were\nconstant in prayer to God the Most High that He would stablish\nthe king in that his present case; and this,\" said Shehrzad, \"is\nthe end of that which my friend related to me.\"\n\n\"O Shehrzad,\" quoth Shehriyar, \"finish unto us the story that thy\nfriend told thee, for that it resembleth the story of a king whom\nI knew; but fain would I hear that which betided the people of\nthis city and what they said of the affair of the king, so I may\nreturn from that wherein I was.\" \"With all my heart,\" answered\nShehrzad. \"Know, O august king and lord of just judgment and\npraiseworthy excellence and exceeding prowess, that, when the\nfolk heard that the king had put away from him his custom and\nreturned from that which had been his wont, they rejoiced in this\nwith an exceeding joy and offered up prayers for him. Then they\ntalked with one another of the cause of the slaughter of the\ngirls, and the wise said, 'They[FN#162] are not all alike, nor\nare the fingers of the hand alike.'\"\n\n\n\n\n\n                SHEHRZAD AND SHEHRIYAR.[FN#163]\n                          (Conclusion)\n\n\n\nWhen King Shehriyar heard this story, he came to himself and\nawaking from his drunkenness,[FN#164] said, \"By Allah, this story\nis my story and this case is my case, for that indeed I was in\nwrath[FN#165] and [danger of] punishment till thou turnedst me\nback from this into the right way, extolled be the perfection of\nthe Causer of causes and the Liberator of necks! Indeed, O\nShehrzad,\" continued he, \"thou hast awakened me unto many things\nand hast aroused me from mine ignorance.\"\n\nThen said she to him, \"O chief of the kings, the wise say, 'The\nkingship is a building, whereof the troops are the foundation,'\nand whenas the foundation is strong, the building endureth;\nwherefore it behoveth the king to strengthen the foundation, for\nthat they say, 'Whenas the foundation is weak, the building\nfalleth.' On like wise it behoveth the king to care for his\ntroops and do justice among his subjects, even as the owner of\nthe garden careth for his trees and cutteth away the weeds that\nhave no profit in them; and so it behoveth the king to look into\nthe affairs of his subjects and fend off oppression from them. As\nfor thee, O king,\" continued Shehrzad, \"it behoveth thee that thy\nvizier be virtuous and versed in the knowledge of the affairs of\nthe folk and the common people; and indeed God the Most High hath\nnamed his name[FN#166] in the history of Moses (on whom be\npeace!) whenas He saith, [Quoth Moses] 'And make me a vizier of\nmy people, Aaron [my brother].[FN#167] Could a vizier have been\ndispensed withal, Moses ben Imran had been worthier [than any of\nthis dispensation].[FN#168]\n\nAs for the vizier, the sultan discovereth unto him his affairs,\nprivate and public; and know, O king, that the similitude of thee\nwith the people is that of the physician with the sick man; and\nthe condition[FN#169] of the vizier is that he be truthful in his\nsayings, trustworthy in all his relations, abounding in\ncompassion for the folk and in tender solicitude over them.\nIndeed, it is said, O king, that good troops[FN#170] are like the\ndruggist; if his perfumes reach thee not, thou still smallest the\nsweet scent of them; and ill troops are like the black-smith; if\nhis sparks burn thee not, thou smellest his nauseous smell. So it\nbehoveth thee take unto thyself a virtuous vizier, a man of good\ncounsel, even as thou takest unto thee a wife displayed before\nthy face, for that thou hast need of the man's righteousness for\nthine own amendment,[FN#171] seeing that, if thou do righteously,\nthe commons will do likewise, and if thou do evil, they also will\ndo evil.\"\n\nWhen the king heard this, drowsiness overcame him and he slept\nand presently awaking, called for the candles. So they were\nlighted and he sat down on his couch and seating Shehrzad by him,\nsmiled in her face. She kissed the earth before him and said, \"O\nking of the age and lord of the time and the day, extolled be the\nperfection of [God] the Forgiving One, the Bountiful Giver, who\nhath sent me unto thee, of His favour and beneficence, so I have\ninformed thee with longing after Paradise; for that this which\nthou wast used to do was never done of any of the kings before\nthee. As for women, God the Most High [in His Holy Book] maketh\nmention of them, [whenas He saith, 'Verily, men who submit\n[themselves unto God] and women who submit] and true-believing\nmen and true-believing women and obedient men and obedient women\nand soothfast men and soothfast women [and long-suffering men and\nlong-suffering women and men who order themselves humbly and\nwomen who order themselves humbly and charitable men and\ncharitable women and men who fast and women who fast] and men who\nguard their privities and women who guard their privities [and\nmen who are constantly mindful of God and women who are\nconstantly mindful, God hath prepared unto them forgiveness and a\nmighty recompense].[FN#172]\n\nAs for that which hath befallen thee, verily, it hath befallen\n[many] kings before thee and their women have played them false,\nfor all they were greater of puissance than thou, yea, and\nmightier of kingship and more abounding in troops. If I would, I\ncould relate unto thee, O king, concerning the wiles of women,\nthat whereof I could not make an end all my life long; and\nindeed, aforetime, in all these my nights that I have passed\nbefore thee, I have told thee [many stories and anecdotes] of the\nartifices of women and of their craft and perfidy; but indeed the\nthings abound on me;[FN#173] wherefore, if it like thee, O king,\nI will relate unto thee [somewhat] of that which befell kings of\nold time of the perfidy of their women and of the calamities\nwhich overtook them by reason of these latter.\" \"How so?\" asked\nthe king. \"Tell on.\" \"Hearkening and obedience,\"answered\nShehrzad.\"It hath been told me, O king, that a man once related\nto a company and spoke as follows:\n\n\n\n\n\n              THE FAVOURITE AND HER LOVER.[FN#174]\n\n\n\nOne day, a day of excessive heat, as I stood at the door of my\nhouse, I saw a fair woman approaching, and with her a slave-girl\ncarrying a parcel. They gave not over going till they came up to\nme, when the woman stopped and said to me, 'Hast thou a draught\nof water?' 'Yes,' answered I. 'Enter the vestibule, O my lady, so\nthou mayst drink.' Accordingly, she entered and I went up into\nthe house and fetched two mugs of earthenware, perfumed with\nmusk[FN#175] and full of cold water. She took one of them and\ndiscovered her face, [that she might drink]; whereupon I saw that\nshe was as the shining sun or the rising moon and said to her, 'O\nmy lady, wilt thou not come up into the house, so thou mayst rest\nthyself till the air grow cool and after go away to thine own\nplace?' Quoth she, 'Is there none with thee?' 'Indeed,' answered\nI, 'I am a [stranger] and a bachelor and have none belonging to\nme, nor is there a living soul in the house.' And she said, 'An\nthou be a stranger, thou art he in quest of whom I was going\nabout.'\n\nThen she went up into the house and put off her [walking] clothes\nand I found her as she were the full moon. I brought her what I\nhad by me of meat and drink and said to her, 'O my lady, excuse\nme: this is that which is ready.' Quoth she, 'This is abundant\nkindness and indeed it is what I sought' And she ate and gave the\nslave-girl that which was left; after which I brought her a\ncasting-bottle of rose-water, mingled with musk, and she washed\nher hands and abode with me till the season of afternoon-prayer,\nwhen she brought out of the parcel that she had with her a shirt\nand trousers and an upper garment[FN#176] and a kerchief\nwroughten with gold and gave them to me; saying, 'Know that I am\none of the favourites of the Khalif, and we are forty favourites,\neach one of whom hath a lover who cometh to her as often as she\nwould have him; and none is without a lover save myself,\nwherefore I came forth to-day to find me a gallant and behold, I\nhave found thee. Thou must know that the Khalif lieth each night\nwith one of us, whilst the other nine-and-thirty favourites take\ntheir ease with the nine-and-thirty men, and I would have thee be\nwith me on such a day, when do thou come up to the palace of the\nKhalif and wait for me in such a place, till a little eunuch come\nout to thee and say to thee a [certain] word, to wit, \"Art thou\nSendel?\" And do thou answer, \"Yes,\" and go with him.'\n\nThen she took leave of me and I of her, after I had strained her\nto my bosom and embraced her and we had kissed awhile. So she\nwent away and I abode expecting the appointed day, till it came,\nwhen I arose and went forth, intending for the trysting-place;\nbut a friend of mine met me by the way [and would have me go home\nwith him. So I accompanied him to his house] and when I came up\n[into his sitting-chamber] he locked the door on me and went\nforth to fetch what we might eat and drink. He was absent till\nmid-day, then till the hour of afternoon-prayer, whereat I was\nsore disquieted. Then he was absent till sundown, and I was like\nto die of chagrin and impatience; [and indeed he returned not]\nand I passed my night on wake, nigh upon death, for that the door\nwas locked on me, and my soul was like to depart my body on\naccount of the tryst.\n\nAt daybreak, my friend returned and opening the door, came in,\nbringing with him meat-pottage[FN#177] and fritters and bees'\nhoney,[FN#178] and said to me, 'By Allah, thou must needs excuse\nme, for that I was with a company and they locked the door on me\nand have but now let me go.' But I returned him no answer. Then\nhe set before me that which was with him and I ate a single\nmouthful and went out, running, so haply I might overtake that\nwhich had escaped me.[FN#179] When I came to the palace, I saw\nover against it eight-and-thirty gibbets set up, whereon were\neight-and-thirty men crucified, and under them eight-and-thirty\nconcubines as they were moons. So I enquired of the reason of the\ncrucifixion of the men and concerning the women in question, and\nit was said unto me, 'The men [whom thou seest] crucified the\nKhalif found with yonder damsels, who are his favourites.' When I\nheard this, I prostrated myself in thanksgiving to God and said,\n'God requite thee with good, O my friend!' For that, had he not\ninvited me [and kept me perforce in his house] that night, I had\nbeen crucified with these men, wherefore praise be to God!\n\n\nThus,\" continued Shehrzad, \"none is safe from the calamities of\nfortune and the vicissitudes of time, and [in proof of this], I\nwill relate unto thee yet another story still rarer and more\nextraordinary than this. Know, O King, that one said to me, 'A\nfriend of mine, a merchant, told me the following story. Quoth\nhe,\n\n\n\n\n\n            THE MERCHANT OF CAIRO AND THE FAVOURITE\n              OF THE KHALIF EL MAMOUN EL HAKIM BI\n                       AMRILLAH.[FN#180]\n\n\n\nAs I sat one day in my shop, there came up to me a fair woman, as\nshe were the moon at its rising, and with her a slave-girl. Now I\nwas a handsome man in my time; so the lady sat down on [the bench\nbefore] my shop and buying stuffs of me, paid down the price and\nwent away. I questioned the girl of her and she said, \"I know not\nher name.\" Quoth I, \"Where is her abode?\" \"In heaven,\" answered\nthe slave-girl; and I said, \"She is presently on the earth; so\nwhen doth she ascend to heaven and where is the ladder by which\nshe goeth up?\" Quoth the girl, \"She hath her lodging in a palace\nbetween two rivers,[FN#181] to wit, the palace of El Mamoun el\nHakim bi Amrillah.\"[FN#182] Then said I, \"I am a dead man,\nwithout recourse; \"but she replied, \"Have patience, for needs\nmust she return unto thee and buy stuffs of thee yet again.\" \"And\nhow cometh it,\" asked I, \"that the Commander of the Faithful\ntrusteth her to go out?\" \"He loveth her with an exceeding love,\"\nanswered she, \"and is wrapped up in her and gainsayeth her not.\"\n\nThen the girl went away, running, after her mistress, whereupon I\nleft the shop and set out after them, so I might see her\nabiding-place. I followed after them all the way, till she\ndisappeared from mine eyes, when I returned to my place, with a\nheart on fire. Some days after, she came to me again and bought\nstuffs of me. I refused to take the price and she said, \"We have\nno need of thy goods.\" Quoth I, \"O my lady, accept them from me\nas a gift;\" but she said, \"[Wait] till I try thee and make proof\nof thee.\" Then she brought out of her pocket a purse and gave me\ntherefrom a thousand dinars, saying, \"Trade with this till I\nreturn to thee.\" So I took the purse and she went away [and\nreturned not to me] till six months had passed by. Meanwhile, I\ntraded with the money and sold and bought and made other thousand\ndinars profit [on it].\n\nPresently, she came to me again and I said to her, \"Here is thy\nmoney and I have gained [with it] other thousand dinars.\" Quoth\nshe, \"Keep it by thee and take these other thousand dinars. As\nsoon as I have departed from thee, go thou to Er Rauzeh[FN#183]\nand build there a goodly pavilion, and when the building thereof\nis accomplished, give me to know thereof.\" So saying, she left me\nand went away. As soon as she was gone, I betook myself to Er\nRauzeh and addressed myself to the building of the pavilion, and\nwhen it was finished, I furnished it with the goodliest of\nfurniture and sent to the lady to tell her that I had made an end\nof its building; whereupon she sent back to me, saying, \"Let him\nmeet me to-morrow at daybreak at the Zuweyleh gate and bring with\nhim a good ass.\" So I got me an ass and betaking myself to the\nZuweyleh gate, at the appointed time, found there a young man on\nhorse- back, awaiting her, even as I awaited her.\n\nAs we stood, behold, up came the lady, and with her a slave-girl.\nWhen she saw the young man, she said to him, \"Art thou here?\" And\nhe answered, \"Yes, O my lady.\" Quoth she, \"To-day I am bidden by\nthis man. Wilt thou go with us?\" And he replied, \"Yes.\" Then said\nshe, \"Thou hast brought me [hither] against my will and perforce.\nWilt thou go with us in any event?\"[FN#184] \"Yes, yes,\" answered\nhe and we fared on, [all three,] till we came to Er Rauzeh and\nentered the pavilion. The lady diverted herself awhile with\nviewing its ordinance and furniture, after which she put off her\n[walking-]clothes and sat down [with the young man] in the\ngoodliest and chiefest place. Then I went forth and brought them\nwhat they should eat at the first of the day; moreover, I went\nout also and fetched them what they should eat at the last of the\nday and brought them wine and dessert and fruits and flowers. On\nthis wise I abode in their service, standing on my feet, and she\nsaid not unto me, \"Sit,\" nor \"Take, eat\" nor \"Take, drink,\" what\nwhile she and the young man sat toying and laughing, and he fell\nto kissing her and pinching her and hopping about upon the ground\nand laughing.\n\nThey abode thus awhile and presently she said, \"Up to now we have\nnot become drunken; let me pour out.\" So she took the cup and\ngave him to drink and plied him with liquor, till he became\ndrunken, when she took him and carried him into a closet. Then\nshe came out, with his head in her hand, what while I stood\nsilent, fixing not mine eyes on hers neither questioning her of\nthis; and she said to me, \"What is this?\" \"I know not,\" answered\nI; and she said, \"Take it and cast it into the river.\" I obeyed\nher commandment and she arose and stripping herself of her\nclothes, took a knife and cut the dead man's body in pieces,\nwhich she laid in three baskets, and said to me, \"Throw them into\nthe river.\"\n\nI did as she bade me and when I returned, she said to me, \"Sit,\nso I may relate to thee yonder fellow's case, lest thou be\naffrighted at that which hath befallen him. Thou must know that I\nam the Khalif's favourite, nor is there any more in honour with\nhim than I; and I am allowed six nights in each month, wherein I\ngo down [into the city and take up my abode] with my [former]\nmistress, who reared me; and when I go down thus, I dispose of\nmyself as I will. Now this young man was the son of neighbours of\nmy mistress, when I was a virgin girl. One day, my mistress was\n[engaged] with the chief [officers] of the palace and I was alone\nin the house. When the night came on, I went up to the roof, so I\nmight sleep there, and before I was aware, this youth came up\nfrom the street and falling upon me, knelt on my breast. He was\narmed with a poniard and I could not win free of him till he had\ndone away my maidenhead by force; and this sufficed him not, but\nhe must needs disgrace me with all the folk, for, as often as I\ncame down from the palace, he would lie in wait for me by the way\nand swive me against my will and follow me whithersoever I went.\nThis, then, is my story, and as for thee, thou pleasest me and\nthy patience pleaseth me and thy good faith and loyal service,\nand there abideth with me none dearer than thou.\" Then I lay with\nher that night and there befell what befell between us till the\nmorning, when she gave me wealth galore and fell to coming to the\npavilion six days in every month.\n\nOn this wise we abode a whole year, at the end of which time she\nwas absent[FN#185] from me a month's space, wherefore fire raged\nin my heart on her account. When it was the next month, behold, a\nlittle eunuch presented himself to me and said, \"I am a messenger\nto thee from such an one,\" [naming my mistress], \"who giveth thee\nto know that the Commander of the Faithful hath sentenced her to\nbe drowned, her and those who are with her, six-and-twenty\nslave-girls, on such a day at Deir et Tin,[FN#186] for that they\nhave confessed against one another of lewdness, and she biddeth\nthee look how thou mayst do with her and how thou mayst contrive\nto deliver her, even if thou gather together all her money and\nspend it upon her, for that this is the time of manhood.\"[FN#187]\nQuoth I, \"I know not this woman; belike it is other than I [to\nwhom this message is addressed]; so beware, O eunuch, lest thou\ncast me into stress.\" Quoth he, \"Behold, I have told thee [that\nwhich I had to say,\"] and went away, leaving me in concern [on\nher account].\n\n[When the appointed day arrived], I arose and changing my clothes\nand favour, donned sailor's apparel; then I took with me a purse\nfull of gold and buying good [victual for the] morning-meal,\naccosted a boatman [at Deir et Tin] and sat down and ate with\nhim; after which said I to him, \"Wilt thou hire me thy boat?\"\nQuoth he, \"The Commander of the Faithful hath commanded me to be\nhere;\" and he told me the story of the concubines and how the\nKhalif purposed to drown them that day. When I heard this from\nhim, I brought out to him half a score dinars and discovered to\nhim my case, whereupon quoth he to me, \"O my brother, get thee\nempty calabashes, and when thy mistress cometh, give me to know\nof her and I will contrive the trick.\"\n\nI kissed his hand and thanked him, and as I was walking about,\n[waiting,] up came the guards and eunuchs with the women, who\nwere weeping and crying out and taking leave of one another. The\neunuchs cried out to us, whereupon we came with the boat, and\nthey said to the boatman, \"Who is this?\" \"This is my mate,\"\nanswered he, \"[whom I have brought,] to help me, so one of us may\nkeep the boat, whilst another doth your service.\" Then they\nbrought out to us the women, one by one, saying, \"Throw them [in]\nby the Island;\" and we answered, \"It is well.\" Now each of them\nwas shackled and they had made a jar of sand fast about her neck.\nWe did as the eunuchs bade us and ceased not to take the women,\none after another, and cast them in, till they gave us my\nmistress and I winked to my comrade. So we took her and carried\nher out into mid-stream, where I gave her the empty\ncalabashes[FN#188] and said to her, \"Wait for me at the mouth of\nthe canal.\" Then we cast her in, after we had loosed the jar of\nsand from her neck and done off her fetters, and returned.\n\nNow there remained one after her; so we took her and drowned her\nand the eunuchs went away, whilst we dropped down the river with\nthe boat till we came to the mouth of the canal, where I saw my\nmistress awaiting me. So we took her up into the boat and\nreturned to our pavilion on Er Rauzeh. Then I rewarded the\nboatman and he took his boat and went away; whereupon quoth she\nto me, \"Thou art indeed a friend in need.\"[FN#189] And I abode\nwith her some days; but the shock wrought upon her so that she\nsickened and fell to wasting away and redoubled in languishment\nand weakness till she died. I mourned for her with an exceeding\nmourning and buried her; after which I removed all that was in\nthe pavilion to my own house [and abandoned the former].\n\nNow she had brought to the pavilion aforetime a little brass\ncoffer and laid it in a place whereof I knew not; so, when the\ninspector of inheritances[FN#190] came, he searched the pavilion\nand found the coffer, with the key in the lock. So he opened it\nand finding it full of jewels and jacinths and earrings and\nseal-rings and precious stones, such as are not found save with\nkings and sultans, took it, and me with it, and ceased not to put\nme to the question with beating and torment till I confessed to\nthem the whole affair from beginning to end, whereupon they\ncarried me to the Khalif and I told him all that had passed\nbetween me and her; and he said to me, \"O man, depart from this\ncity, for I acquit thee for thy valiance sake and because of thy\n[constancy in] keeping thy secret and thy daring in exposing\nthyself to death.\" So I arose forthright and departed his city;\nand this is what befell me.'\"\n\n\n\n\n\n                    SHEHRZAD AND SHEHRIYAR.\n\n\n\nKing Shehriyar marvelled at these things and Shehrzad said to\nhim, \"Thou marvelledst at that which befell thee on the part of\nwomen; yet hath there befallen the kings of the Chosroes before\nthee what was more grievous than that which befell thee, and\nindeed I have set forth unto thee that which betided khalifs and\nkings and others than they with their women, but the exposition\nis long and hearkening groweth tedious, and in this [that I have\nalready told thee] is sufficiency for the man of understanding\nand admonishment for the wise.\"\n\nThen she was silent, and when the king heard her speech and\nprofited by that which she said, he summoned up his reasoning\nfaculties and cleansed his heart and caused his understanding\nrevert [to the right way] and turned [with repentance] to God the\nMost High and said in himself, \"Since there befell the kings of\nthe Chosroes more than that which hath befallen me, never, whilst\nI abide [on life], shall I cease to blame myself [for that which\nI did in the slaughter of the daughters of the folk]. As for this\nShehrzad, her like is not found in the lands; so extolled be the\nperfection of Him who appointed her a means for the deliverance\nof His creatures from slaughter and oppression!\" Then he arose\nfrom his session and kissed her head, whereat she rejoiced with\nan exceeding joy, she and her sister Dinarzad.\n\nWhen the morning morrowed, the king went forth and sitting down\non the throne of the kingship, summoned the grandees of his\nempire; whereupon the chamberlains and deputies and captains of\nthe host went in to him and kissed the earth before him. He\ndistinguished the vizier with his especial favour and bestowed on\nhim a dress of honour and entreated him with the utmost kindness,\nafter which he set forth briefly to his chief officers that which\nhad betided him with Shehrzad and how he had turned from that his\nformer usance and repented him of what he had done aforetime and\npurposed to take the vizier's daughter Shehrzad to wife and let\ndraw up the contract of marriage with her.\n\nWhen those who were present heard this, they kissed the earth\nbefore him and offered up prayers for him and for the damsel\nShehrzad, and the vizier thanked her. Then Shehriyar made an end\nof the session in all weal, whereupon the folk dispersed to their\ndwelling-places and the news was bruited abroad that the king\npurposed to marry the vizier's daughter Shehrzad. Then he\nproceeded to make ready the wedding gear, and [when he had made\nan end of his preparations], he sent after his brother King\nShahzeman, who came, and King Shehriyar went forth to meet him\nwith the troops. Moreover, they decorated the city after the\ngoodliest fashion and diffused perfumes [from the\ncensing-vessels] and [burnt] aloes-wood and other perfumes in all\nthe markets and thoroughfares and rubbed themselves with saffron,\nwhat while the drums beat and the flutes and hautboys sounded and\nit was a notable day.\n\nWhen they came to the palace, King Shehriyar commanded to spread\nthe tables with beasts roasted [whole] and sweetmeats and all\nmanner viands and bade the crier make proclamation to the folk\nthat they should come up to the Divan and eat and drink and that\nthis should be a means of reconciliation between him and them. So\ngreat and small came up unto him and they abode on that wise,\neating and drinking, seven days with their nights. Then the king\nshut himself up with his brother and acquainted him with that\nwhich had betided him with the vizier's daughter [Shehrzad] in\nthose three years [which were past] and told him what he had\nheard from her of saws and parables and chronicles and pleasant\ntraits and jests and stories and anecdotes and dialogues and\nhistories and odes and verses; whereat King Shahzeman marvelled\nwith the utterest of marvel and said, \"Fain would I take her\nyounger sister to wife, so we may be two own brothers to two own\nsisters, and they on likewise be sisters unto us; for that the\ncalamity which befell me was the means of the discovering of that\nwhich befell thee and all this time of three years past I have\ntaken no delight in woman, save that I lie each night with a\ndamsel of my kingdom, and when I arise in the morning, I put her\nto death; but now I desire to marry thy wife's sister Dinarzad.\"\n\nWhen King Shehriyar heard his brother's words he rejoiced with an\nexceeding joy and arising forthright, went in to his wife\nShehrzad and gave her to know of that which his brother purposed,\nto wit, that he sought her sister Dinarzad in marriage;\nwhereupon, \"O king of the age,\" answered she, \"we seek of him one\ncondition, to wit, that he take up his abode with us, for that I\ncannot brook to be parted from my sister an hour, because we were\nbrought up together and may not brook severance from each other.\nIf he accept this condition, she is his handmaid.\" King Shehriyar\nreturned to his brother and acquainted him with that which\nShehrzad had said; and he answered, saying, \"Indeed, this is what\nwas in my mind, for that I desire nevermore to be parted from\nthee. As for the kingdom, God the Most High shall send unto it\nwhom He chooseth, for that there abideth to me no desire for the\nkingship.\"\n\nWhen King Shehriyar heard his brother's words, he rejoiced with\nan exceeding joy and said, \"Verily, this is what I had wished, O\nmy brother. So praised be God who hath brought about union\nbetween us!\" Then he sent after the Cadis and learned men and\ncaptains and notables, and they married the two brothers to the\ntwo sisters. The contracts were drawn up and the two kings\nbestowed dresses of honour of silk and satin on those who were\npresent, whilst the city was decorated and the festivities were\nrenewed. The king commanded each amir and vizier and chamberlain\nand deputy to decorate his palace and the folk of the city\nrejoiced in the presage of happiness and content. Moreover, King\nShehriyar bade slaughter sheep and get up kitchens and made\nbride-feasts and fed all comers, high and low.\n\n\nThen the eunuchs went forth, that they might perfume the bath\n[for the use of the brides]; so they essenced it with rose-water\nand willow-flower-water and bladders of musk and fumigated it\nwith Cakili[FN#191] aloes-wood and ambergris. Then Shehrzad\nentered, she and her sister Dinarzad, and they cleansed their\nheads and clipped their hair. When they came forth of the bath,\nthey donned raiment and ornaments, [such as were] prepared for\nthe kings of the Chosroes; and among Shehrzad's apparel was a\ndress charactered with red gold and wroughten with semblants of\nbirds and beasts. Moreover, they both encircled their necks with\nnecklaces of jewels of price, in the like whereof\nIskender[FN#192] rejoiced not, for therein were great jewels such\nas amazed the wit and the eye, and the thought was bewildered at\ntheir charms, for indeed, each of them was brighter than the sun\nand the moon. Before them they kindled lighted flambeaux in\ntorch-holders of gold, but their faces outshone the flambeaux,\nfor that they had eyes sharper than drawn swords and the lashes\nof their eyelids ensorcelled all hearts. Their cheeks were rosy\nand their necks and shapes swayed gracefully and their eyes\nwantoned. And the slave-girls came to meet them with instruments\nof music.\n\nThen the two kings entered the bath, and when they came forth,\nthey sat down on a couch, inlaid with pearls and jewels,\nwhereupon the two sisters came up to them and stood before them,\nas they were moons, swaying gracefully from side to side in their\nbeauty and grace. Presently they brought forward Shehrzad and\ndisplayed her, for the first dress, in a red suit; whereupon King\nShehriyar rose to look upon her and the wits of all present, men\nand women, were confounded, for that she was even as saith of her\none of her describers:\n\nLike a sun at the end of a cane in a hill of sand, She shines in\n     a dress of the hue of pomegranate flower.\nShe gives me to drink of her cheeks and her honeyed lips And\n     quenches the worst of the fires that my heart devour.\n\nThen they attired Dinarzad in a dress of blue brocade and she\nbecame as she were the full moon, whenas it shineth forth. So\nthey displayed her in this, for the first dress, before King\nShahzeman, who rejoiced in her and well-nigh took leave of his\nwits for longing and amorous desire; yea, he was distraught with\nlove for her, whenas he saw her, for, indeed, she was as saith of\nher one of her describers in the following verses:\n\nShe comes in a robe the colour of ultramarine, Blue as the\n     stainless sky, unflecked with white;\nI view her with yearning eyes and she seems to me A moon of the\n     summer, set in a winter's night.\n\nThen they returned to Shehrzad and displayed her in the second\ndress. They clad her in a dress of surpassing goodliness, and\nveiled her face to the eyes with her hair. Moreover, they let\ndown her side locks and she was even as saith of her one of her\ndescribers in the following verses:\n\nBravo for her whose loosened locks her cheeks do overcloud! She\n     slays me with her cruelty, so fair she is and proud.\nQuoth I, \"Thou overcurtainest the morning with the night;\" And\n     she, \"Not so; it is the moon that with the dark I shroud.\"\n\n\nThen they displayed Dinarzad in a second and a third and a fourth\ndress and she came forward, as she were the rising sun, and\nswayed coquettishly to and fro; and indeed she was even as saith\nthe poet of her in the following verses:\n\nA sun of beauty she appears to all who look on her, Glorious in\n     arch and amorous grace, with coyness beautified;\nAnd when the sun of morning sees her visage and her smile,\n     O'ercome. he hasteneth his face behind the clouds to hide.\n\nThen they displayed Shehrzad in the third dress and the fourth\nand the fifth, and she became as she were a willow-wand or a\nthirsting gazelle, goodly of grace and perfect of attributes,\neven as saith of her one in the following verses:\n\nLike the full moon she shows upon a night of fortune fair,\n     Slender of shape and charming all with her seductive air.\nShe hath an eye, whose glances pierce the hearts of all mankind,\n     Nor can cornelian with her cheeks for ruddiness compare.\nThe sable torrent of her locks falls down unto her hips; Beware\n     the serpents of her curls, I counsel thee, beware!\nIndeed her glance, her sides are soft; but none the less, alas!\n     Her heart is harder than the rock; there is no mercy there.\nThe starry arrows of her looks she darts above her veil; They hit\n     and never miss the mark, though from afar they fare.\n\nThen they returned to Dinarzad and displayed her in the fifth\ndress and in the sixth, which was green. Indeed, she overpassed\nwith her loveliness the fair of the four quarters of the world\nand outshone, with the brightness of her countenance, the full\nmoon at its rising; for she was even as saith of her the poet in\nthe following verses:\n\nA damsel made for love and decked with subtle grace; Thou'dst\n     deem the very sun had borrowed from her face.\nShe came in robes of green, the likeness of the leaf That the\n     pomegranate's flower doth in the bud encase.\n\"How call'st thou this thy dress?\" quoth we, and she replied A\n     word wherein the wise a lesson well might trace;\n\"Breaker of hearts,\" quoth she, \"I call it, for therewith I've\n     broken many a heart among the amorous race.\"\n\nThen they displayed Shehrzad in the sixth and seventh dresses and\nclad her in youths' apparel, whereupon she came forward, swaying\ncoquettishly from side to side; and indeed she ravished wits and\nhearts and ensorcelled with her glances [all who looked on her].\nShe shook her sides and wagged her hips, then put her hair on the\nhilt of her sword and went up to King Shehriyar, who embraced\nher, as the hospitable man embraces the guest, and threatened her\nin her ear with the taking of the sword; and indeed she was even\nas saith of her the poet in these verses:\n\n\nWere not the darkness[FN#193] still in gender masculine, As\n     ofttimes is the case with she-things passing fine,\nTirewomen to the bride, who whiskers, ay, and beard Upon her face\n     produce, they never would assign.[FN#194]\n\nOn this wise they did with her sister Dinarzad, and when they had\nmade an end of displaying the two brides, the king bestowed\ndresses of honour on all who were present and dismissed them to\ntheir own places. Then Shehrzad went in to King Shehriyar and\nDinarzad to King Shahzeman and each of them solaced himself with\nthe company of his beloved and the hearts of the folk were\ncomforted. When the morning morrowed, the vizier came in to the\ntwo kings and kissed the ground before them; wherefore they\nthanked him and were bountiful to him. Then they went forth and\nsat down upon couches of estate, whilst all the viziers and amirs\nand grandees and the chief officers of the realm and the\nhousehold presented themselves before them and kissed the earth.\nKing Shehriyar ordered them dresses of honour and largesse and\nthey offered up prayers for the abiding continuance [on life] of\nthe king and his brother.\n\nThen the two kings appointed their father-in-law the vizier to be\nviceroy in Samarcand and assigned him five of the chief amirs to\naccompany him, charging them attend him and do him service. The\nvizier kissed the earth and prayed that they might be vouchsafed\nlength of life. Then he went in to his daughters, whilst the\neunuchs and ushers walked before him, and saluted them and bade\nthem farewell. They kissed his hands and gave him joy of the\nkingship and bestowed on him treasures galore. Then he took leave\nof them and setting out, journeyed days and nights till he came\nwithin three days' journey of Samarcand, where the townspeople\nmet him and rejoiced in him with an exceeding joy. So he entered\nSamarcand and they decorated the city, and it was a notable day.\nHe sat down on the throne of his kingship and the viziers did him\nhomage and the grandees and amirs of Samarcand and prayed that he\nmight be vouchsafed justice and victory and length of continuance\n[on life]. So he bestowed on them dresses of honour and entreated\nthem with worship and they made him Sultan over them.\n\nAs soon as his father-in-law had departed for Samarcand, King\nShehriyar summoned the grandees of his realm and made them a\nmagnificent banquet of all manner rich meats and exquisite\nsweetmeats. Moreover, he bestowed on them dresses of honour and\nguerdoned them and divided the kingdoms between himself and his\nbrother in their presence, whereat the folk rejoiced. Then the\ntwo kings abode, ruling each a day in turn and they accorded with\neach other, what while their wives continued in the love of God\nthe Most High and in thanksgiving to Him; and the subjects and\nthe provinces were at peace and the preachers prayed for them\nfrom the pulpits, and their report was bruited abroad and the\ntravellers bore tidings of them [to all countries].\n\nMoreover, King Shehriyar summoned chroniclers and copyists and\nbade them write all that had betided him with his wife, first and\nlast; so they wrote this and named it \"The Stories of the\nThousand Nights and One Night.\" The book came to[FN#195] thirty\nvolumes and these the king laid up in his treasury. Then the two\nkings abode with their wives in all delight and solace of life,\nfor that indeed God the Most High had changed their mourning into\njoyance; and on this wise they continued till there took them the\nDestroyer of Delights and Sunderer of Companies, he who maketh void\nthe dwelling-places and peopleth the tombs, and they were translated to the mercy of God the\nMost High; their houses were laid waste and their palaces ruined and the kings inherited their\nriches.\n\nThen there reigned after them an understanding king, who was just, keen-witted and\naccomplished and loved stories, especially those which chronicle the doings of kings and sultans,\nand he found [in the treasuries of the kings who had foregone him] these marvellous and rare and\ndelightful stories, [written] in the thirty volumes aforesaid. So he read in them a first book and a\nsecond and a third and [so on] to the last of them, and each book pleased him more than that\nwhich forewent it, till he came to the end of them. Then he marvelled at that which he had read\n[therein] of stories and discourse and witty traits and anecdotes and moral instances and\nreminiscences and bade the folk copy them and publish them in all lands and climes; wherefore\ntheir report was bruited abroad and the people named them \"The marvels and rarities of the\nThousand Nights and One Night.\" This is all that hath come down to us of [the history of] this\nbook, and God is All-Knowing.[FN#196]\n\n\n\n\n\n                  Calcutta (1814-18) Text. 183\n\n\n\n           Sindbad the Sailor and Hindbad the Porter\n\n\n\n                             NOTE.\n\n\n\nAs the version of the sixth and seventh voyages of Sindbad the Sailor contained in[FN#197] the\nCalcutta Edition (1814-18) of the first two hundred Nights and in the text of the Voyages\npublished by M. Langles (Paris, 1814) differs very materially from that of the complete Calcutta\n(1839-42) Edition[FN#198] (which is, in this case, practically identical with those of Boulac and\nBreslau), adopted by me as my standard text in the translation of \"The Book of the Thousand\nNights and One Night,\" the story of the seventh voyage in particular turning upon an altogether\ndifferent set of incidents, related nearly as in the old version of M. Galland, I now give a\ntranslation of the text of the two voyages in question afforded by the Calcutta (1814-18) Edition,\ncorrected and completed by collation with that of M. Langles, from which it differs only in being\nslightly less full. It will be observed that in this version of the story the name Sindbad is reserved\nfor the Sailor, the porter being called Hindbad.\n\n\n\n\n\n           SINDBAD THE SAILOR AND HINDBAD THE PORTER.\n\n\n\nOn the morrow they[FN#199] returned to their place, as of their wont, and betook themselves to\neating and drinking and merry-making and sporting till the last of the day, when Sindbad bade\nthem hearken to his relation concerning his sixth voyage, the which (quoth he) is of the most\nextraordinary of pleasant stories and the most startling [for that which it compriseth] of\ntribulations and disasters. Then said he,\n\n\n\n\n\n            THE SIXTH VOYAGE OF SINDBAD THE SAILOR.\n\n\n\n\"When I returned from my fifth voyage, I gave myself up to eating and drinking and passed my\ntime in solace and delight and forgot that which I had suffered of stresses and afflictions, nor was\nit long before the thought of travel again presented itself to my mind and my soul hankered after\nthe sea. So I brought out the goods and binding up the bales, departed from Baghdad, [intending]\nfor certain of the lands, and came to the sea-coast, where I embarked in a stout ship, in company\nwith a number of other merchants of like mind with myself, and we [set out and] sailed till we\ncame among certain distant islands and found ourselves in difficult and dangerous case.\n\n[One day], as the ship was sailing along, and we unknowing where we were, behold, the captain\ncame down [from the mast] and casting his turban from his head, fell to buffeting his face and\nplucking at his beard and weeping and supplicating [God for deliverance]. We asked him what\nailed him, and he answered, saying, 'Know, O my masters, that the ship is fallen among shallows\nand drifteth upon a sand-bank of the sea. Another moment [and we shall be upon it]. If we clear\nthe bank, [well and good]; else, we are all dead men and not one of us will be saved; wherefore\npray ye to God the Most High, so haply He may deliver us from these deadly perils, or we shall\nlose our lives.' So saying, he mounted [the mast] and set the sail, but at that moment a contrary\nwind smote the ship, and it rose upon the crest of the waves and sank down again into the trough\nof the sea.\n\nNow there was before us a high mountain,[FN#200] rising [abruptly] from the sea, and the ship\nfell off into an eddy,[FN#201] which bore it on till presently it struck upon the skirt[FN#202] of\nthe mountain and broke in sunder; whereupon the captain came down [from the mast], weeping,\nand said, 'God's will be done! Take leave of one another and look yourselves out graves from\nto-day, for we have fallen into a predicament[FN#203] from which there is no escape, and never\nyet hath any been cast away here and come off alive.' So all the folk fell a-weeping and gave\nthemselves up for lost, despairing of deliverance; friend took leave of friend and sore was the\nmourning and lamentation; for that hope was cut off and they were left without guide or\npilot.[FN#204] Then all who were in the ship landed on the skirt of the mountain and found\nthemselves on a long island, whose shores were strewn with [wrecks], beyond count or\nreckoning, [of] ships that had been cast away [there] and whose crews had perished; and there\nalso were dry bones and dead bodies, heaped upon one another, and goods without number and\nriches past count So we abode confounded, drunken, amazed, humbling ourselves [in supplication\nto God] and repenting us [of having exposed ourselves to the perils of travel]; but repentance\navailed not in that place.\n\nIn this island is a river of very sweet water, issuing from the shore of the sea and entering in at a\nwide cavern in the skirt of an inaccessible mountain, and the stones of the island are all limpid\nsparkling crystal and jacinths of price. Therein also is a spring of liquid, welling up like [molten]\npitch, and when it cometh to the shore of the island, the fish swallow it, then return and cast it up,\nand it becometh changed from its condition and that which it was aforetime; and it is crude\nambergris. Moreover, the trees of the island are all of the most precious aloes-wood, both Chinese\nand Comorin; but there is no way of issue from the place, for it is as an abyss midmost the sea; the\nsteepness of its shore forbiddeth the drawing up of ships, and if any approach the mountain, they\nfall into the eddy aforesaid; nor is there any resource[FN#205] in that island.\n\nSo we abode there, daily expecting death, and whoso of us had with him a day's victual ate it in\nfive days, and after this he died; and whoso had with him a month's victual ate it in five months\nand died also. As for me, I had with me great plenty of victual; so I buried it in a certain place and\nbrought it out, [little by little,] and fed on it; and we ceased not to be thus, burying one the other,\ntill all died but myself and I abode alone, having buried the last of my companions, and but little\nvictual remained to me. So I said in myself, 'Who will bury me in this place?' And I dug me a\ngrave and abode in expectation of death, for that I was in a state of exhaustion. Then, of the\nexcess of my repentance, I blamed and reproached myself for my much [love of] travel and said,\n'How long wilt thou thus imperil thyself?' And I abode as I were a madman, unable to rest; but, as\nI was thus melancholy and distracted, God the Most High inspired me with an idea, and it was\nthat I looked at the river aforesaid, as it entered in at the mouth of the cavern in the skirt of the\nmountain, and said in myself, 'Needs must this water have issue in some place.'\n\nSo I arose and gathering wood and planks from the wrecks, wrought of them the semblance of a\nboat [to wit, a raft,] and bound it fast with ropes, saying, 'I will embark thereon and fare with this\nwater into the inward of the mountain. If it bring me to the mainland or to a place where I may\nfind relief and safety, [well and good]; else I shall [but] perish, even as my companions have\nperished.' Then I collected of the riches and gold and precious stuffs, cast up there, whose owners\nhad perished, a great matter, and of jacinths and crude ambergris and emeralds somewhat past\ncount, and laid all this on the raft [together with what was left me of victual]. Then I launched it\non the river and seating myself upon it, put my trust in God the Most High and committed myself\nto the stream.\n\nThe raft fared on with me, running along the surface of the river, and entered into the inward of\nthe mountain, where the light of day forsook me and I abode dazed and stupefied, unknowing\nwhither I went. Whenas I hungered, I ate a little of the victual I had with me, till it was all spent\nand I abode expecting the mercy of the Lord of all creatures.[FN#206] Presently I found myself in\na strait [channel] in the darkness and my head rubbed against the roof of the cave; and in this case\nI abode awhile, knowing not night from day, whilst anon the channel grew straiter and anon\nwidened out; and whenas my breast was straitened and I was confounded at my case, sleep took\nme and I knew neither little nor much.\n\nWhen I awoke and opened my eyes, I found myself [in the open air] and the raft moored to the\nbank of the stream, whilst about me were folk of the blacks of Hind. When they saw that I was\nawake, they came up to me, to question me; so I rose to them and saluted them. They bespoke me\nin a tongue I knew not, whilst I deemed myself in a dream, and for the excess of my joy, I was\nlike to fly and my reason refused to obey me. Then there came to my mind the verses of the poet\nand I recited, saying:\n\nLet destiny with loosened rein its course appointed fare And lie thou down to sleep by night, with\n     heart devoid of care;\nFor 'twixt the closing of an eye and th'opening thereof, God hath it in His power to change a case\n     from foul to fair.\n\nWhen they heard me speak in Arabic, one of them came up to me and saluting me [in that\nlanguage], questioned me of my case. Quoth I, 'What [manner of men] are ye and what country is\nthis?' 'O my brother,' answered he, 'we are husbandmen and come to this river, to draw water,\nwherewithal to water our fields; and whilst we were thus engaged to-day, as of wont, this boat\nappeared to us on the surface of the water, issuing from the inward of yonder mountain. So we\ncame to it and finding thee asleep therein, moored it to the shore, against thou shouldst awake.\nAcquaint us, therefore, with thy history and tell us how thou camest hither and whence thou\nenteredst this river and what land is behind yonder mountain, for that we have never till now\nknown any make his way thence to us.' But I said to them, 'Give me somewhat to eat and after\nquestion me.' So they brought me food and I ate and my spirits revived and I was refreshed. Then\nI related to them all that had befallen me, whereat they were amazed and confounded and said, 'By\nAllah, this is none other than a marvellous story, and needs must we carry thee to our king, that\nthou mayst acquaint him therewith.' So they carried me before their king, and I kissed his hand\nand saluted him.\n\nNow he was the king of the land of Serendib,[FN#207] and he welcomed me and entreated me\nwith kindness, bidding me be seated and admitting me to his table and converse. So I talked with\nhim and called down blessings upon him and he took pleasure in my discourse and showed me\nsatisfaction and said to me, 'What is thy name?' 'O my lord,' answered I, 'my name is Sindbad the\nSailor;' and he said, 'And what countryman art thou?' Quoth I, 'I am of Baghdad.' 'And how\nearnest thou hither?' asked he. So I told him my story and he marvelled mightily thereat and said,\n'By Allah, O Sindbad, this thy story is marvellous and it behoveth that it be written in characters\nof gold.'\n\nThen they brought the raft before him and I said to him, 'O my lord, I am in thy hands, I and all\nmy good.' He looked at the raft and seeing therein jacinths and emeralds and crude ambergris, the\nlike whereof was not in his treasuries, marvelled and was amazed at this. Then said he, 'O\nSindbad, God forbid that we should covet that which God the Most High hath vouchsafed unto\nthee! Nay, it behoveth us rather to further thee on thy return to thine own country.' So I called\ndown blessings on him and thanked him. Then he signed to one of his attendants, who took me\nand established me in a goodly lodging, and the king assigned me a daily allowance and pages to\nwait on me. And every day I used to go in to him and he entertained me and entreated me friendly\nand delighted in my converse; and as often as our assembly broke up, I went out and walked\nabout the town and the island, diverting myself by viewing them.\n\nNow this island is under the Equinoctial line; its night is still twelve hours and its day the like. Its\nlength is fourscore parasangs and its breadth thirty, and it is a great island, stretching between a\nlofty mountain and a deep valley. This mountain is visible at a distance of three days' journey and\ntherein are various kinds of jacinths and other precious stones and metals of all kinds and all\nmanner spice-trees, and its soil is of emery, wherewith jewels are wrought. In its streams are\ndiamonds, and pearls are in its rivers.[FN#208] I ascended to its summit and diverted myself by\nviewing all the marvels therein, which are such as beggar description; after which I returned to the\nking and sought of him permission to return to my own country. He gave me leave, after great\npressure, and bestowed on me abundant largesse from his treasuries. Moreover, he gave me a\npresent and a sealed letter and said to me, 'Carry this to the Khalif Haroun er Reshid and salute\nhim for us with abundant salutation.' And I said, 'I hear and obey.'\n\nNow this letter was written with ultramarine upon the skin of the hog-deer, the which is goodlier\nthan parchment or paper and inclineth unto yellow, and was to the following effect: 'From the\nKing of Hind, before whom are a thousand elephants and on the battlements of his palace a\nthousand jewels, [to the Khalif Haroun er Reshid, greeting]. To proceed:[FN#209] we send thee\nsome small matter of presents, which do thou accept and be to us as a brother and a friend, for\nthat the love of thee aboundeth in our heart and we would have thee to know that we look to thee\nfor an answer. Indeed, we are sharers with thee in love and fear, ceasing[FN#210] never to do\nthee honour; and for a beginning, we send thee the Book of the Quintessence of Balms and a\npresent after the measure of that which is fallen to our lot. Indeed, this is unworthy of thy rank,\nbut we beseech thee, O brother, to favour us by accepting it, and peace be on thee!'\n\nNow this present was a cup of ruby, a span high and a finger's length broad, full of fine pearls,\neach a mithcal[FN#211] in weight and a bed covered with the skin of the serpent that swalloweth\nthe elephant, marked with spots, each the bigness of a dinar, whereon whoso sitteth shall never\nsicken; also an hundred thousand mithcals of Indian aloes-wood and thirty grains of camphor,\neach the bigness of a pistachio-nut, and a slave-girl with her paraphernalia, a charming creature, as\nshe were the resplendent moon. Then the king took leave of me, commending me to the\nmerchants and the captain of the ship, and I set out, with that which was entrusted to my charge\nand my own good, and we ceased not to pass from island to island and from country to country,\ntill we came to Baghdad, when I entered my house and foregathered with my family and brethren.\n\nThen I took the present and a token of service from myself to the Khalif and [presenting myself\nbefore him], kissed his hands and laid the whole before him, together with the King of Hind's\nletter. He read the letter and taking the present, rejoiced therein with an exceeding joy and\nentreated me with the utmost honour. Then said he to me, 'O Sindbad, is this king, indeed, such as\nhe avoucheth in this letter?' I kissed the earth and answered, saying, 'O my lord, I myself have\nseen the greatness of his kingship to be manifold that which he avoucheth in his letter. On the day\nof his audience,[FN#212] there is set up for him a throne on the back of a huge elephant, eleven\ncubits high, whereon he sitteth and with him are his officers and pages and session-mates,\nstanding in two ranks on his right hand and on his left. At his head standeth a man, having in his\nhand a golden javelin, and behind him another, bearing a mace of the same metal, tipped with an\nemerald, a span long and an inch thick. When he mounteth, a thousand riders take horse with him,\narrayed in gold and silk; and whenas he rideth forth, he who is before him proclaimeth and saith,\n\"This is the king, mighty of estate and high of dominion!\" And he proceedeth to praise him on this\nwise and endeth by saying, \"This is the king, lord of the crown the like whereof nor\nSolomon[FN#213] nor Mihraj[FN#214] possessed!\" Then is he silent, whilst he who is behind the\nking proclaimeth and saith, \"He shall die! He shall die! And again I say, he shall die!\" And the\nother rejoineth, saying, \"Extolled be the perfection of the Living One who dieth not!\" And by\nreason of his justice and judgment[FN#215] and understanding, there is no Cadi in his [capital]\ncity; but all the people of his realm distinguish truth from falsehood and know [and practise] truth\nand right for themselves.'\n\nThe Khalif marvelled at my speech and said, 'How great is this king! Indeed, his letter testifieth of\nhim; and as for the magnificence of his dominion, thou hast acquainted us with that which thou\nhast seen; so, by Allah, he hath been given both wisdom and dominion.' Then he bestowed on me\nlargesse and dismissed me, so I returned to my house and paid the poor-rate[FN#216] and gave\nalms and abode in my former easy and pleasant case, forgetting the grievous stresses I had\nsuffered. Yea, I cast out from my heart the cares of travel and traffic and put away travail from\nmy thought and gave myself up to eating and drinking and pleasure and delight.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n           SINDBAD THE SAILOR AND HINDBAD THE PORTER.\n\n\n\nWhen Sindbad the Sailor had made an end of his story, all who were present marvelled at that\nwhich had befallen him. Then he bade his treasurer give the porter an hundred mithcals of gold\nand dismissed him, charging him return on the morrow, with the rest of the folk, to hear the\nhistory of his seventh voyage. So the porter went away to his house, rejoicing; and on the morrow\nhe presented himself with the rest of the guests, who sat down, as of their wont, and occupied\nthemselves with eating and drinking and merry-making till the end of the day, when their host\nbade them hearken to the story of his seventh voyage. Quoth Sindbad the Sailor,\n\n\n\n\n\n\n           THE SEVENTH VOYAGE OF SINDBAD THE SAILOR.\n\n\n\n\"When I [returned from my sixth voyage, I] forswore travel and renounced commerce, saying in\nmyself, 'What hath befallen me sufficeth me.' So I abode at home and passed my time in pleasance\nand delight, till, one day, as I sat at mine ease, plying the wine-cup [with my friends], there came a\nknocking at the door. The doorkeeper opened and found without one of the Khalif's pages, who\ncame in to me and said, 'The Commander of the Faithful biddeth thee to him.' So I accompanied\nhim to the presence of the Khalif and kissing the earth before him, saluted him. He bade me\nwelcome and entreated me with honour and said to me, 'O Sindbad, I have an occasion with thee,\nwhich I would have thee accomplish for me.' So I kissed his hand and said, 'O my lord, what is the\nlord's occasion with the slave?' Quoth he, 'I would have thee go to the King of Serendib and carry\nhim our letter and our present, even as he sent us a present and a letter.'\n\nAt this I trembled and replied, 'By the Most Great God, O my lord, I have taken a loathing to\ntravel, and whenas any maketh mention to me of travel by sea or otherwise, I am like to swoon\nfor affright, by reason of that which hath befallen me and what I have suffered of hardships and\nperils. Indeed, I have no jot of inclination left for this, and I have sworn never again to leave\nBaghdad.' And I related to him all that had befallen me, first and last; whereat he marvelled\nexceedingly and said, 'By the Most Great God, O Sindbad, never was heard from time\nimmemorial of one whom there betided that which hath betided thee and well may it behove thee\nnever again to mention travel! But for my sake go thou this once and carry my letter to the King\nof Serendib and return in haste, if it be the will of God the Most High, so we may not remain\nindebted to the king for favour and courtesy.' And I answered him with 'Hearkening and\nobedience,' for that I dared not gainsay his commandment\n\nThen he gave me the present and letter and money for my expenses. So I kissed his hand and\ngoing out from before him, repaired to the sea-coast, where I took ship with many other\nmerchants and we sailed days and nights, till, after a prosperous voyage, God vouchsafed us a\nsafe arrival at the island of Serendib. We landed and went up to the city, where I carried the letter\nand present to the king and kissing the earth fell [prostrate before him], invoking blessings on him.\nWhen he saw me, 'Welcome to thee, O Sindbad!' quoth he. 'By the Most Great God, we have\nlonged for thy sight and the day is blessed on which we behold thee once more.' Then he took my\nhand and seating me by his side, welcomed me and entreated me friendly and rejoiced in me with\nan exceeding joy; after which he fell to conversing with me and caressing me and said, 'What\nbrings thee to us, O Sindbad?' I kissed his hand and thanking him, said, 'O my lord, I bring thee a\npresent and a letter from my lord the Khalif Haroun er Reshid.' Then I brought out to him the\npresent and the letter and he read the latter and accepted the former, rejoicing therein with an\nexceeding joy.\n\nNow this present was a horse worth ten thousand dinars and all its housings and trappings of gold\nset with jewels, and a book and five different kinds of suits of apparel and an hundred pieces of\nfine white linen cloths of Egypt and silks of Suez and Cufa and Alexandria and a crimson carpet\nand another of Tebaristan[FN#217] make and an hundred pieces of cloth of silk and flax mingled\nand a goblet of glass of the time of the Pharaohs, a finger-breadth thick and a span wide,\namiddleward which was the figure of a lion and before him an archer kneeling, with his arrow\ndrawn to the head, and the table of Solomon son of David,[FN#218] on whom be peace; and the\ncontents of the letter were as follows: 'From the Khalif Haroun er Reshid, unto whom and to his\nforefathers (on whom be peace) God hath vouchsafed the rank of the noble and exceeding glory,\nto the august, God-aided Sultan, greeting. Thy letter hath reached us and we rejoiced therein and\nhave sent thee the book [called] \"The Divan of Hearts and the Garden of Wits,\" of the translation\nwhereof when thou hast taken cognizance, its excellence will be established in thine eyes; and the\nsuperscription of this book we have made unto thee. Moreover, we send thee divers other kingly\npresents;[FN#219] so do thou favour us by accepting them, and peace be on thee!'\n\nWhen the king had read this letter, he rejoiced with an exceeding joy and bestowed on me great\nstore of presents and entreated me with the utmost honour. Some days after this, I sought of him\nleave to depart, but he granted it not to me save after much pressing. So I took leave of him and\nshipped with divers merchants and others, intending for my own country and having no desire for\ntravel or traffic. We sailed on, without ceasing, till we had passed many islands; but, one day, as\nwe fared on over a certain tract of the sea, there came forth upon us a multitude of boats full of\nmen like devils, clad in chain-mail and armed with swords and daggers and bows and arrows, and\nsurrounded us on every side. They entreated us after the cruellest fashion, smiting and wounding\nand slaying those who made head against them, and taking the ship, with the crew and all that\nwere therein, carried us to an island, where they sold us all for a low price. A rich man bought me\nand taking me into his house, gave me to eat and drink and clothed me and entreated me kindly,\ntill my heart was comforted and I was somewhat restored.\n\nOne day my master said to me, 'Knowest thou not some art or handicraft?' And I answered,\nsaying, 'O my lord, I am a merchant and know nought but traffic.' Quoth he, 'Knowest thou how\nto shoot with a bow and arrows?' And I replied, 'Yes, I know that.' So he brought me a bow and\narrows and mounting me behind him on an elephant, set out with me, at the last of the night, and\nfared on till we came to a forest of great trees; whereupon he made me climb a high and stout tree\nand giving me the bow and arrows, said to me, 'Sit here, and when the elephants come hither by\nday, shoot at them, so haply thou shalt hit one of them; and if any of them fall, come at nightfall\nand tell me.' Then he went away and left me trembling and fearful. I abode hidden in the tree till\nthe sun rose, when the elephants came out and fared hither and thither among the trees, and I\ngave not over shooting at them with arrows, till I brought down one of them. So, at eventide, I\nwent and told my master, who rejoiced in me and rewarded me; then he came and carried away\nthe dead elephant.\n\nOn this wise I abode a while of time, every day shooting an elephant, whereupon my master came\nand carried it away, till, one day, as I sat hidden in the tree, there came up elephants without\nnumber, roaring and trumpeting, so that meseemed the earth trembled for the din. They all made\nfor the tree whereon I was and the girth whereof was fifty cubits, and compassed it about. Then a\nhuge elephant came up to the tree and winding his trunk about it, tugged at it, till he plucked it up\nby the roots and cast it to the ground. I fell among the elephants, and the great elephant, coming\nup to me, as I lay aswoon for affright, wound his trunk about me and tossing me on to his back,\nmade off with me, accompanied by the others; nor did he leave faring on with me, and I absent\nfrom the world, till he brought me to a certain place and casting me down from off his back, went\naway, followed by the rest. I lay there awhile, till my trouble subsided and my senses returned to\nme, when I sat up, deeming myself in a dream, and found myself on a great hill, stretching far and\nwide and all of elephants' bones. So I knew that this was their burial-place and that they had\nbrought me thither on account of the bones.\n\nThen I arose and fared on a day and a night, till I came to the house of my master, who saw me\npale and disfeatured for fear and hunger. He rejoiced in my return and said to me, 'By Allah, thou\nhast made my heart ache on thine account; for I went and finding the tree torn up by the roots,\ndoubted not but the elephants had destroyed thee. Tell me then how it was with thee.' So I told\nhim what had befallen me and he marvelled exceedingly and rejoiced, saying, 'Knowst thou where\nthis hill is?' 'Yes, O my lord,' answered I. So he took me up with him on an elephant and we rode\ntill we came to the elephants' burial-place.\n\nWhen he saw those many bones, he rejoiced therein with an exceeding joy and carried away what\nhe had a mind to thereof. Then we returned to his house and he entreated me with increased\nfavour and said to me, 'Verily, O my son, thou hast directed us to a passing great gain, may God\nrequite thee with all good! Thou art free for the sake of God the Most High. Every year these\nelephants used to kill of us much people on account of these bones; but God delivered thee from\nthem and thou hast done us good service in the matter of these bones, of which thou hast given us\nto know; wherefore thou meritest a great recompense, and thou art free.' 'O my lord,' answered I,\n'may God free thy neck from the fire! I desire of thee that thou give me leave to return to my own\ncountry.' 'So be it,' replied he; 'but we have a fair, on occasion whereof the merchants come hither\nto us and take of us these elephants' bones. The time of the fair is now at hand, and when they\ncome to us, I will send thee with them and give thee somewhat to bring thee to thine own\ncountry.'\n\nI blessed him and thanked him and abode with him in all honour and consideration, till, after a\nlittle, the merchants came, even as he had said, and bought and sold and bartered; and when they\nwere about to depart, my master came to me and said, 'The merchants are about to depart; arise,\nthat thou mayst go with them to thy country.' So I betook myself to the folk, and behold, they had\nbought great store of elephants' bones and bound up their loads and embarked in the ship; and my\nmaster took passage for me with them and paid my hire and all that was chargeable upon\nme.[FN#220] Moreover, he gave me great store of goods and we set sail and passed from island\nto island, till we traversed the sea and arrived at the port of our destination; whereupon the\nmerchants brought out their goods and sold; and I also brought out that which was with me and\nsold it at a good profit.\n\nThen I bought of the best and finest of the produce and rarities of the country and all I had a mind\nto and a good hackney[FN#221] and we set out again and traversed the deserts from country to\ncountry till we came to Baghdad. Then I went in to the Khalif and saluted him and kissed his\nhand; after which I acquainted him with all that had passed and that which had befallen me. He\nrejoiced in my deliverance and thanked God the Most High; then he caused write my story in\nletters of gold and I betook myself to my house and foregathered with my brethren and family.\nThis, then,\" added Sindbad, \"is the last of that which befell me in my travels, and praise be to\nGod, the One, the Creator, the Maker!\"\n\nWhen Sindbad the Sailor had made an end of his story, he bade his servant give the porter an\nhundred mithcals of gold and said to him, \"How now, my brother! Hast ever in the world heard of\none whom such calamities have betided as have betided me and hath any suffered that which I\nhave suffered of afflictions or undergone that which I have undergone of hardships? Wherefore it\nbehoveth that I have these pleasures in requital of that which I have undergone of travail and\nhumiliations.\" So the porter came forward and kissing the merchant's hands, said to him, \"O my\nlord, thou hast indeed suffered grievous perils and hast well deserved these bounteous favours\n[that God hath vouchsafed thee]. Abide, then, O my lord, in thy delights and put away from thee\n[the remembrance of] thy troubles; and may God the Most High crown thine enjoyments with\nperfection and accomplish thy days in pleasance until the hour of thine admission [to His mercy]!\"\n\nTherewithal Sindbad the Sailor bestowed largesse upon him and made him his boon-companion,\nand he abode, leaving him not night or day, to the last of their lives. Praise be to God the\nGlorious, the Omnipotent, the Strong, the Exalted of estate, Creator of heaven and earth and land\nand sea, to whom belongeth glorification! Amen. Amen. Praise be to God, the Lord of the\nWorlds! Amen.\n\n\n\n\n\n                             NOTE.\n\n\n\nAs stated In the Prefatory Note to my \"Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night,\" four\nprinted Editions (of which three are more or less complete) exist of the Arabic text of the original\nwork, namely those of Calcutta (1839-42), Boulac (Cairo), Breslau (Tunis) and Calcutta\n(1814-18). The first two are, for purposes of tabulation, practically identical, one whole story\nonly,[FN#222] of those that occur in the Calcutta (1839-42) Edition, (which is the most complete\nof all,) being omitted from that of Boulac; and I have, therefore, given but one Table of Contents\nfor these two Editions. The Breslau Edition, though differing widely from those of Calcutta\n(1839-42) and Boulac in contents, resembles them in containing the full number (a thousand and\none) of Nights, whilst that of Calcutta (1814-18) is but a fragment, comprising only the first two\nhundred Nights and the Voyages of Sindbad, as a separate Tale.\n\nThe subscribers to my \"Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night\" and the present \"Tales from\nthe Arabic\" have now before them a complete English rendering (the first ever made) of all the\ntales contained in the four printed (Arabic) Texts of the original work and I have, therefore,\nthought it well to add to this, the last Volume of my Translation, full Tables of Contents of these\nlatter, a comparison of which will show the exact composition of the different Editions and the\nparticulars in which they differ from one another, together with the manner in which the various\nstories that make up the respective collections are distributed over the Nights. In each Table, the\ntitles of the stories occurring only in the Edition of which it gives the contents are printed in\nItalics and each Tale is referred to the number of the Night on which it is begun.\n\nThe Breslau Edition, which was printed from a Manuscript of the Book of the Thousand Nights\nand One Night alleged to have been furnished to the Editor by a learned Arab of Tunis, whom he\nstyles \"Herr M. Annaggar\" (Qu\u00e6re En Nejjar, the Carpenter), the lacunes found in which were\nsupplemented from various other MS. sources indicated by Silvestre de Sacy and other eminent\nOrientalists, is edited with a perfection of badness to which only German scholars (at once the\nbest and worst editors in the world) can attain. The original Editor, Dr. Maximilian Habicht, was\nduring the period (1825- 1839) of publication of the first eight Volumes, engaged in continual and\nsomewhat acrimonious[FN#223] controversy concerning the details of his editorship with Prof.\nH. L. Fleischer, who, after his death, undertook the completion of his task and approved himself a\nworthy successor of his whilom adversary, his laches and shortcomings in the matter of revision\nand collation of the text being at least equal in extent and gravity to those of his predecessor,\nwhilst he omitted the one valuable feature of the latter's work, namely, the glossary of Arabic\nwords, not occurring in the dictionaries, appended to the earlier volumes.\n\nAs an instance of the extreme looseness with which the book was edited, I may observe that the\nfirst four Vols. were published without tables of contents, which were afterwards appended en\nbloc to the fifth Volume. The state of corruption and incoherence in which the printed Text was\nplaced before the public by the two learned Editors, who were responsible for its production, is\nsuch as might well drive a translator to despair: the uncorrected errors of the press would alone\nfill a volume and the verse especially is so corrupt that one of the most laborious of English\nArabic scholars pronounced its translation a hopeless task. I have not, however, in any single\ninstance, allowed myself to be discouraged by the difficulties presented by the condition of the\ntext, but have, to the best of my ability, rendered into English, without abridgment or\nretrenchment, the whole of the tales, prose and verse, contained in the Breslau Edition, which are\nnot found in those of Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac. In this somewhat ungrateful task, I have\nagain had the cordial assistance of Captain Burton, who has (as in the case of my \"Book of the\nThousand Nights and One Night\") been kind enough to look over the proofs of my translation and\nto whom I beg once more to tender my warmest thanks.\n\nSome misconception seems to exist as to the story of Seif dhoul Yezen, a fragment of which was\ntranslated by Dr. Habicht and included, with a number of tales from the Breslau Text, in the\nfourteenth Vol. of the extraordinary gallimaufry published by him in 1824-5 as a complete\ntranslation of the 1001 Nights[FN#224] and it has, under the mistaken impression that this long\nbut interesting Romance forms part of the Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night, been\nsuggested that a complete translation of it should be included in the present publication. The\nRomance in question does not, however, in any way, belong to my original and forms no part of\nthe Breslau Text, as will be at once apparent from an examination of the Table of Contents of the\nlatter (see post, p. 261), by which all the Nights are accounted for. Dr. Habicht himself tells us, in\nhis preface to the first Vol. of the Arabic Text, that he found the fragment (undivided into Nights)\nat the end of the fifth Volume of his MS., into which other detached tales, having no connection\nwith the Nights, appear to have also found their way. This being the case, it is evident that the\nRomance of Seif dhoul Yezen in no way comes within the scope of the present work and would\n(apart from the fact that its length would far overpass my limits) be a manifestly improper addition\nto it. It is, however, possible that, should I come across a suitable text of the work, I may make it\nthe subject of a separate publication; but this is, of course, a matter for future consideration.\n\n\n\n\n\n          TABLE OF CONTENTS OF THE CALCUTTA (1839-42)\n           AND BOULAC EDITIONS OF THE ARABIC TEXT OF\n            THE BOOK OF THE THOUSAND NIGHTS AND ONE\n                             NIGHT.\n\n\n\n                                                          Night\n\nINTRODUCTION.--Story of King Shehriyar and his Brother.\n          a. Story of the Ox and the Ass\n     1. The Merchant and the Genie . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .i\n          a. The First Old Man's Story . . . . . . . . . . . . .i\n          b. The Second Old Man's Story. . . . . . . . . . . . ii\n          c. The Third Old Man's Story . . . . . . . . . . . . ii\n     2. The Fisherman and the Genie. . . . . . . . . . . . . .iii\n          a. Story of the Physician Douban . . . . . . . . . . iv\n               aa. Story of King Sindbad and his Falcon. . . . .v\n               ab. Story of the King's Son and the Ogress. . . .v\n          b. Story of the Enchanted Youth. . . . . . . . . . .vii\n     3. The Porter and the Three Ladies of Baghdad . . . . . . ix\n          a. The First Calender's Story. . . . . . . . . . . . xi\n          b. The Second Calender's Story . . . . . . . . . . .xii\n               ba. Story of the Envier and the Envied[FN#225]xiii\n          c. The Third Calender's Story. . . . . . . . . . . .xiv\n          d. The Eldest Lady's Story . . . . . . . . . . . . xvii\n          e. The Story of the Portress . . . . . . . . . . .xviii\n     4. The Three Apples . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .xix\n     5. Noureddin Ali of Cairo and his Son Bedreddin Hassan. . xx\n     6. Story of the Hunchback . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .xxv\n          a. The Christian Broker's Story. . . . . . . . . . .xxv\n          b. The Controller's Story. . . . . . . . . . . . .xxvii\n          c. The Jewish Physician's Story. . . . . . . . . xxviii\n          d. The Tailor's Story. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xxix\n          e. The Barber's Story. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xxxi\n               ea. Story of the Barber's First Brother . . . xxxi\n               eb. Story of the Barber's Second Brother. . . xxxi\n               ec. Story of the Barber's Third Brother . . .xxxii\n               ed. Story of the Barber's Fourth Brother. . .xxxii\n               ee. Story of the Barber's Fifth Brother . . .xxxii\n               ef. Story of the Barber's Sixth Brother . . xxxiii\n     7. Noureddin Ali and the Damsel Enis el Jelis . . . . .xxxiv\n     8. Ghanim ben Eyoub the Slave of Love . . . . . . . . .xxxix\n          a. Story of the Eunuch Bekhit. . . . . . . . . . .xxxix\n          b. Story of the Eunuch Kafour. . . . . . . . . . .xxxix\n     9. The History of King Omar ben Ennuman and his Sons Sherkan and Zoulmekanxlv\n          a. Story of Taj el Mulouk and the Princess Dunya . cvii\n               aa. Story of Aziz and Azizeh. . . . . . . . cxliii\n          b. Bakoun's Story of the Hashish-Eater . . . . . cxliii\n          c. Hemmad the Bedouin's Story. . . . . . . . . . .cxliv\n     10. The Birds and Beasts and the Son of Adam. . . . . .cxlvi\n     11. The Hermits . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .cxlviii\n     12. The Waterfowl and the Tortoise. . . . . . . . . .cxlviii\n     13. The Wolf and the Fox. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .cxlviii\n          a. The Hawk and the Partridge. . . . . . . . . . .cxlix\n     14. The Mouse and the Weasel. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cl\n     15. The Cat and the Crow. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cl\n     16. The Fox and the Crow. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cl\n          a. The Mouse and the Flea. . . . . . . . . . . . . .cli\n          b. The Falcon and the Birds. . . . . . . . . . . . clii\n          c. The Sparrow and the Eagle . . . . . . . . . . . clii\n     17. The Hedgehog and the Pigeons. . . . . . . . . . . . clii\n          a. The Merchant and the Two Sharpers . . . . . . . clii\n     18. The Thief and his Monkey. . . . . . . . . . . . . . clii\n          a. The Foolish Weaver. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . clii\n     19. The Sparrow and the Peacock . . . . . . . . . . . . clii\n     20. Ali ben Bekkar and Shemsennehar . . . . . . . . . .cliii\n     21. Kemerezzeman and Budour . . . . . . . . . . . . . . clxx\n          a. Nimeh ben er Rebya and Num his Slave-girl . ccxxxvii\n     22. Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .ccl\n     23. Hatim et Tal; his Generosity after Death. . . . . .cclxx\n     24. Maan ben Zaideh and the three Girls . . . . . . . cclxxi\n     25. Maan ben Zaideh and the Bedouin . . . . . . . . . cclxxi\n     26. The City of Lebtait . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .cclxxii\n     27. The Khalif Hisham and the Arab Youth. . . . . . . cclxxi\n     28. Ibrahim ben el Mehdi and the Barber-surgeon . . cclxxiii\n     29. The City of Irem. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .cclxxvi\n     30. Isaac of Mosul's Story of Khedijeh and the Khalif Mamouncclxxix\n     31. The Scavenger and the Noble Lady of Baghdad . . cclxxxii\n     32. The Mock Khalif . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cclxxxvi\n     33. Ali the Persian and the Kurd Sharper. . . . . . . ccxciv\n     34. The Imam Abou Yousuf with Haroun er Reshid and his Vizier Jaaferccxcvi\n     35. The Lover who feigned himself a Thief to save his Mistress's Honourccxcvii\n     36. Jaafer the Barmecide and the Bean-Seller. . . . . ccxcix\n     37. Abou Mohammed the Lazy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .ccc\n     38. Yehya ben Khalid and Mensour. . . . . . . . . . . . .ccv\n     39. Yehya ben Khalid and the Man who forged a Letter in his Nameccvi\n     40. The Khalif El Mamoun and the Strange Doctor . . . .cccvi\n     41. Ali Shar and Zumurrud . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cccvii\n     42. The Loves of Jubeir ben Umeir and the Lady Budourcccxxvii\n     43. The Man of Yemen and his six Slave-girls. . . . cccxxxiv\n     44. Haroun er Reshid with the Damsel and Abou Nuwascccxxxviii\n     45. The Man who stole the Dog's Dish of Gold. . . . . .cccxl\n     46. The Sharper of Alexandria and the Master of Policecccxli\n     47. El Melik en Nasir and the three Masters of Policecccxliii\n          a. Story of the Chief of the New Cairo Police. cccxliii\n          b. Story of the Chief of the Boulac Police . . .cccxliv\n          c. Story of the Chief of the Old Cairo Police. .cccxliv\n     48. The Thief and the Money-Changer . . . . . . . . . ccxliv\n     49. The Chief of the Cous Police and the Sharper. . . cccxlv\n     50. Ibrahim ben el Mehdi and the Merchant's Sister  Night ccxlvi\n     51. The Woman whose Hands were cut off for Almsgivingcccxlviii\n     52. The Devout Israelite. . . . . . . . . . . . . .cccxlviii\n     53. Abou Hassan es Ziyadi and the Man from Khorassan  Night ccxlix\n     54. The Poor Man and his Generous Friend. . . . . . . .cccli\n     55. The Ruined Man who became Rich again through a Dreamcccli\n     56. El Mutawekkil and his Favourite Mehboubeh . . . . .cccli\n     57. Werdan the Butcher's Adventure with the Lady and the Bearcccliii\n     58. The King's Daughter and the Ape . . . . . . . . . .ccclv\n     59. The Enchanted Horse  Night  . . . . . . . . . . . cclvii\n     60. Uns el Wujoud and the Vizier's Daughter Rose-in-budccclxxi\n     61. Abou Nuwas with the three Boys and the Khalif Haroun er Reshidccclxxxi\n     62. Abdallah ben Maamer with the Man of Bassora and his Slave-girlccclxxxiii\n     63. The Lovers of the Benou Udhreh. . . . . . . . ccclxxxiii\n     64. Tht Vizier of Yemen and his young Brother . . .ccclxxxiv\n     65. The Loves of the Boy and Girl at School . . . . ccclxxxv\n     66. El Mutelemmis and his Wife Umeimeh. . . . . . . ccclxxxv\n     67. Haroun er Reshid and Zubeideh in the Bath . . . ccclxxxv\n     68. Haroun er Reshid and the three Poets. . . . . .ccclxxxvi\n     69. Musab ben ez Zubeir and Aaisheh his Wife. . . .ccclxxxvi\n     70. Aboulaswed and his squinting Slave-girl . . . ccclxxxvii\n     71. Haroun er Reshid and the two Girls. . . . . . ccclxxxvii\n     72. Haroun er Reshid and the three Girls. . . . . ccclxxxvii\n     73. The Miller and his Wife . . . . . . . . . . . ccclxxxvii\n     74. The Simpleton and the Sharper . . . . . . . .ccclxxxviii\n     75. The Imam Abou Yousuf with Haroun er Reshld and Zubeidehccclxxxviii\n     76. The Khalif El Hakim and the Merchant. . . . . .ccclxxxix\n     77. King Kisra Anoushirwan and the Village Damsel .ccclxxxix\n     78. The Water-Carrier and the Goldsmith's Wife. . . . .cccxc\n     79. Khusrau and Shirin and the Fisherman. . . . . . . cccxci\n     80. Yehya ben Khalid and the Poor Man . . . . . . . . cccxci\n     81. Mohammed el Amin and Jaafer ben el Hadi . . . . .cccxcii\n     82. Said ben Salim and the Barmecides . . . . . . . .cccxcii\n     83. The Woman's Trick against her Husband . . . . . cccxciii\n     84. The Devout Woman and the two Wicked Elders. . . .cccxciv\n     85. Jaafer the Barmecide and the Old Bedouin. . . . . cccxcv\n     86. Omar ben el Khettab and the Young Bedouin . . . . cccxcv\n     87. El Mamoun and the Pyramids of Egypt . . . . . .cccxcviii\n     88. The Thief turned Merchant and the other Thief .cccxcviii\n     89. Mesrour and Ibn el Caribi . . . . . . . . . . . .cccxcix\n     90. The Devout Prince . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .cccci\n     91. The Schoolmaster who Fell in Love by Report . . . ccccii\n     92. The Foolish Schoolmaster. . . . . . . . . . . . .cccciii\n     93. The Ignorant Man who set up for a Schoolmaster. .cccciii\n     94. The King and the Virtuous Wife. . . . . . . . . . cccciv\n     95. Abdurrehman the Moor's Story of the Roc . . . . . cccciv\n     96. Adi ben Zeid and the Princess Hind. . . . . . . . .ccccv\n     97. Dibil el Khuzai with the Lady and Muslin ben el Welidccccvii\n     98. Isaac of Mosul and the Merchant . . . . . . . . .ccccvii\n     99. The Three Unfortunate Lovers. . . . . . . . . . . ccccix\n     100. The Lovers of the Benou Tai. . . . . . . . . . . .ccccx\n     101. The Mad Lover. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ccccxi\n     102. The Apples of Paradise . . . . . . . . . . . . .ccccxii\n     103. The Loves of Abou Isa and Curret el Ain. . . . .ccccxiv\n     104. El Amin and his Uncle Ibrahim ben el Mehdi . .ccccxviii\n     105. El Feth ben Khacan and El Mutawekkil . . . . . .ccccxix\n     106. The Man's Dispute with the Learned Woman of the relative Excellence of the\n          Sexes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .ccccxix\n     107. Abou Suweid and the Handsome Old Woman . . . .ccccxxiii\n     108. Ali ben Tahir and the Girl Mounis. . . . . . . ccccxxiv\n     109. The Woman who had a Boy and the other who had a Man to Loverccccxxiv\n     110. The Haunted House in Baghdad . . . . . . . . . ccccxxiv\n     111. The Pilgrim and the Old Woman who dwelt in the Desertccccxxxiv\n     112. Aboulhusn and his Slave-girl Taweddud. . . . .ccccxxxvi\n     113. The Angel of Death with the Proud King and the Devout Mancccclxii\n     114. The Angel of Death and the Rich King . . . . . cccclxii\n     115. The Angel of Death and the King of the Children of Israelcccclxiii\n     116. Iskender Dhoulkernein and a certain Tribe of Poor Folkcccclxiv\n     117. The Righteousness of King Anoushirwan. . . . . cccclxiv\n     118. The Jewish Cadi and his Pious Wife . . . . . . .cccclxv\n     119. The Shipwrecked Woman and her Child. . . . . . cccclxvi\n     120. The Pious Black Slave. . . . . . . . . . . . .cccclxvii\n     121. The Devout Platter-maker and his Wife. . . . cccclxviii\n     122. El Hejjaj ben Yousuf and the Pious Man . . . . .cccclxx\n     123. The Blacksmith who could Handle Fire without Hurtcccclxxi\n     124. The Saint to whom God gave a Cloud to serve him and the Devout Kingcccclxxiii\n     125. The Muslim Champion and the Christian Lady . .cccclxxiv\n     126. Ibrahim ben el Khawwas and the Christian King's Daughtercccclxxvii\n     127. The Justice of Providence. . . . . . . . . .cccclxxviii\n     128. The Ferryman of the Nile and the Hermit. . . .cccclxxix\n     129. The King of the Island . . . . . . . . . . . .cccclxxix\n     130. Abulhusn ed Durraj and Abou Jaafer the Leper .cccclxxxi\n     131. The Queen of the Serpents. . . . . . . . . . cccclxxxii\n          a. The Adventures of Beloukiya . . . . . . . cccclxxxvi\n          b. The Story of Janshah. . . . . . . . . . . . ccccxcix\n     132. Sindbad the Sailor and Sindbad the Porter. . . . dxxxvi\n          a. The First Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor. . . dxxxviii\n          b. The Second Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor . . . dxliii\n          c. The Third Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor. . . . .dxlvi\n          d. The Fourth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor . . . . . dl\n          e. The Fifth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor. . . . . dlvi\n          f. The Sixth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor. . . . . dlix\n          g. The Seventh Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor. . . dlxiii\n     133. The City of Brass. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .dlxvi\n     134. The Malice of Women. . . . . . . . . . . . . . dlxxviii\n          a. The King and his Vizier's Wife. . . . . . . dlxxviii\n          b. The Merchant's Wife and the Parrot. . . . . . dlxxix\n          c. The Fuller and his Son. . . . . . . . . . . . dlxxix\n          d. The Lover's Trick against the Chaste Wife . . .dlxxx\n          e. The Niggard and the Loaves of Bread . . . . . .dlxxx\n          f. The Lady and her Two Lovers . . . . . . . . . dlxxxi\n          g. The King's Son and the Ogress . . . . . . . . dlxxxi\n          h. The Drop of Honey . . . . . . . . . . . . . .dlxxxii\n          i. The Woman who made her Husband sift Dust. . .dlxxxii\n          j. The Enchanted Springs . . . . . . . . . . . .dlxxxii\n          k. The Vizier's Son and the Bathkeeper's Wife. .dlxxxiv\n          l. The Wife's Device to Cheat her Husband. . . .dlxxxiv\n          m. The Goldsmith and the Cashmere Singing- girl.dlxxxvi\n          n. The Man who never Laughed again . . . . . . dlxxxvii\n          o. The King's Son and the Merchant's Wife. . . . . dxci\n          p. The Page who feigned to know the Speech of Birdsdxcii\n          q. The Lady and her five Suitors . . . . . . . . dxciii\n          r. The Man who saw the Night of Power. . . . . . .dxcvi\n          s. The Stolen Necklace . . . . . . . . . . . . . .dxcvi\n          t. The two Pigeons . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . dxcvii\n          u. Prince Behram of Persia and the Princess Ed Detmadxcvii\n          v. The House with the Belvedere. . . . . . . . .dxcviii\n          w. The King's Son and the Afrit's Mistress . . . . dcii\n          x. The Sandal-wood Merchant and the Sharpers . . .dciii\n          y. The Debauchee and the Three-year-old Child. . . .dcv\n          z. The Stolen Purse. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .dcv\n     135. Jouder and his Brothers. . . . . . . . . . . . . . dcvi\n     136. The History ot Gherib and his Brother Agib . . . dcxxiv\n     137. Otbeh and Reyya. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . dclxxx\n     138. Hind Daughter of En Numan and El Hejjaj. . . . .dclxxxi\n     139. Khuzeimeh ben Bishr and Ikrimeh el Feyyas. . . dclxxxii\n     140. Younus the Scribe and the Khalif Welid ben Sehldclxxxiv\n     141. Haroun er Reshid and the Arab Girl . . . . . . .dclxxxv\n     142. El Asmai and the three Girls of Bassora. . . . dclxxxvi\n     143. Ibrahim of Mosul and the Devil . . . . . . . .dclxxxvii\n     144. The Lovers of the Benou Udhreh . . . . . . . dclxxxviii\n     145. The Bedouin and his Wife . . . . . . . . . . . . .dcxci\n     146. The Lovers of Bassora. . . . . . . . . . . . . .dcxciii\n     147. Isaac of Mosul and his Mistress and the Devil. . .dcxcr\n     148. The Lovers of Medina . . . . . . . . . . . . . . dcxcvi\n     149. El Melik en Nasir and his Vizier . . . . . . . .dcxcvii\n     150. The Rogueries of Delileh the Crafty and her Daughter Zeyneb the Trickstressdcxcviii\n     151. The Adventures of Quicksilver Ali of Cairo, a Sequel to the Rogueries of Delileh\n          the Crafty . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .dccviil\n     152. Ardeshir and Heyat en Nufous . . . . . . . . . . .dccxu\n     153. Julnar of the Sea and her Son King Bedr Basim of Persiaiccxxxviii\n     154. King Mohammed ben Sebaik and the Merchant Hassan dcclvi\n          a. Story of Prince Seif el Mulouk and the Princess Bediya el Jemal dcclviii\n     155. Hassan of Bassora and the King's Daughter of the Jinndcclxxviii\n     156. Khelifeh the Fisherman of Baghdad. . . . . . . cccxxxii\n     157. Mesrour and Zein el Mewasif. . . . . . . . . . .dcccxlv\n     158. Ali Noureddin and the Frank King's Daughter. .dccclxiii\n     159. The Man of Upper Egypt and his Frank Wife. . . dcccxciv\n     160. The Ruined Man of Baghdad and his Slave-girl . dcccxcvi\n     161. King Jelyaad of Hind and his Vizier Shimas: whereafter ensueth the History of\n          King Wird Khan son of King Jelyaad and his Women and Viziersdcccxciz\n          a. The Cat and the Mouse . . . . . . . . . . . . .dccoc\n          b. The Fakir and his Pot of Butter . . . . . . .dccccii\n          c. The Fishes and the Crab . . . . . . . . . . dcccciii\n          d. The Crow and the Serpent. . . . . . . . . . dcccciii\n          e. The Fox and the Wild Ass. . . . . . . . . . .dcccciv\n          f. The Unjust King and the Pilgrim Prince. . . . dccccv\n          g. The Crows and the Hawk. . . . . . . . . . . .dccccvi\n          k. The Serpent-Charmer and his Wife. . . . . . dccccvii\n          i. The Spider and the Wind . . . . . . . . . .dccccviii\n          j. The Two Kings . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .dccccix\n          k. The Blind Man and the Cripple . . . . . . . . dccccx\n          l. The Foolish Fisherman . . . . . . . . . . dccccxviii\n          m. The Boy and the Thieves . . . . . . . . . dccccxviii\n          n. The Man and his Wilful Wife . . . . . . . . dccccxix\n          o. The Merchant and the Thieves. . . . . . . . .dccccxx\n          p. The Foxes and the Wolf. . . . . . . . . . . dccccxxi\n          q. The Shepherd and the Thief. . . . . . . . . dccccxxi\n          r. The Heathcock and the Tortoises . . . . . .dccccxxiv\n     162. Aboukir the Dyer and Abousir the Barber. . . . dccccxxx\n     163. Abdallah the Fisherman and Abdallah the Merman .dccccxl\n     164. The Merchant of Oman . . . . . . . . . . . . .dccccxlvi\n     165. Ibrahim and Jemileh. . . . . . . . . . . . . . dcccciii\n     166. Aboulhusn of Khorassan . . . . . . . . . . . . dcccclix\n     167. Kemerezzeman and the Jeweller's Wife . . . . dcccclxiii\n     168. Abdallah ben Fasil and his Brothers. . . . dcccclixviii\n     169. Marouf the Cobbler and his Wife Fatimeh. dcccclxxxix-Mi\nConclusion.\n\n\n\n\n\n            TABLE OF CONTENTS OF THE BRESLAU (TUNIS)\n           EDITION OF THE ARABIC TEXT OF THE BOOK OF\n               THE THOUSAND NIGHTS AND ONE NIGHT.\n\n\n                                                          Night\nIntroduction.--Story of King Shehriyar and his Brother.\n          a. Story of the Ox and the Ass\n     1. The Merchant and the Genie . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .i\n          a. The First Old Man's Story . . . . . . . . . . . . iv\n          b. The Second Old Man's Story. . . . . . . . . . . . vi\n          c. The Third Old Man's Story . . . . . . . . . . . viii\n     2. The Fisherman and the Genie. . . . . . . . . . . . . viii\n          a. Story of the Physician Douban . . . . . . . . . . xi\n               aa. Story of the Jealous Man and the Parrot[FN#226]xiv\n               ab. Story of the King's Son and the Ogress. . . xv\n          b. Story of the Enchanted Youth. . . . . . . . . . .xxi\n     3. The Porter and the Three Ladies of Baghdad . . . . xxviii\n          a. The First Calender's Story. . . . . . . . . . xxxvii\n          b. The Second Calender's Story . . . . . . . . . . . xl\n               ba. The Envier and the Envied . . . . . . . . xlvi\n          c. The Third Calender's Story. . . . . . . . . . . liii\n          d. The Eldest Lady's Story . . . . . . . . . . . .lxiii\n          e. Story of the Portress . . . . . . . . . . . . .lxvii\n     4. The Three Apples . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . lxix\n     5. Noureddin Ali of Cairo and his Son Bedreddin Hassan.lxxii\n     6. Story of the Hunchback . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .cii\n          a. The Christian Broker's Story. . . . . . . . . . cvii\n          b. The Controller's Story. . . . . . . . . . . . . cxix\n          c. The Jewish Physician's Story. . . . . . . . . .cxxix\n          d. The Tailor's Story. . . . . . . . . . . . . .cxxxvii\n          e. The Barber's Story. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .cxlix\n               ea. Story of the Barber's First Brother . . . . ci\n               eb. Story of the Barber's Second Brother. . . cliv\n               ec. Story of the Barber's Third Brother . . .clvii\n               ed. Story of the Barber's Fourth Brother. . clviii\n               ee. Story of the Barber's Fifth Brother . . . .clx\n               ef. Story of the Barber's Sixth Brother . . .clxiv\n     7. Ali ben Bekkar and Shemsennehar. . . . . . . . . . .clxix\n     8. Noureddin Ali and the Damsel Enis el Jelii . . . . .cxcix\n     9. Kemerezzeman and Budour. . . . . . . . . . . . . .ccxviii\n     10. The Enchanted Horse . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ccxlir\n     11. The Voyages of Sindbad the Sailor . . . . . . . . ccxliv\n          a. The First Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor. . . . .cclii\n          b. The Second Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor . . . ccliii\n          c. The Third Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor. . . . . cclv\n          d. The Fourth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor . . . .cclix\n          e. The Fifth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor. . . .cclxiii\n          f. The Sixth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor. . . . cclxvi\n          g. The Seventh Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor. . . cclxix\n     12. Asleep and Awake. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cclxxi\n          a. The Lackpenny and the Cook. . . . . . . . . cclxxiii\n     13. Seif el Mulouk and Bediya el Jemal. . . . . . . .  ccxci\n     14. Khelif the Fisherman [FN#227] . . . . . . . . . . cccxxi\n     15. Ghanim ben Eyoub the Slave of Love. . . . . . . cccxxxii\n          a. Story of the Eunuch Sewab [FN#228]. . . . . cccxxxiv\n          b. Story of the Eunuch Kafour ,,\n     16. Uns el Wujoud and the Vizier's Daughter Rose- in-budcccxli\n     17. The Merchant of Oman. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cccliv\n     18. Ardeshir and Heyat en Nufous. . . . . . . . . . .ccclxiv\n     19. Hassan of Bassora and the King's Daughter of the Jinncclxxxvi\n     20. Haroun er Reshid and the three Poets. . . . . .ccccxxxii\n     21. Omar ben Abdulaziz and the Poets. . . . . . . .ccccxxxii\n     22. El Hejjaj and the three Young Mem . . . . . . .ccccxxxiv\n     23. Er Reshid and the Woman of the Barmecides . . .ccccxxxiv\n     24. The Ten Viziers; or the History of King Azad- bekht and his Sonccccxxxv\n          a. The Unlucky Merchant. . . . . . . . . . . . . ccccxl\n          b. The Merchant and his Sons . . . . . . . . . ccccxliv\n          c. Abou Sabir. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ccccxlviii\n          d. Prince Bihzad . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ccccliii\n          e. King Dadbin and his Viziers . . . . . . . . . cccclv\n          f. King Bekhtzeman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .cccclxi\n          g. King Bihkerd. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . cccclxiv\n          h. Ilan Shah and Abou Temam. . . . . . . . . . cccclxvi\n          i. King Ibrahim and his Son. . . . . . . . . . cccclxxi\n          j. King Suleiman Shah and his Sons . . . . . . cccclxxv\n          k. The Prisoner and how God gave him Relief . cccclxxxv\n     25. The City of Brass . . . . . . . . . . . . . .cccclxxxvii\n     26. Nimeh ben er Rebya and Num his Slave-girl . . . . . . di\n     27. Alaeddin Abou es Shamat . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .dxx\n     28. Hatim Tai; his Generosity after Death . . . . . . .dxxxi\n     29. Maan ben Zaideh and the three Girls . . . . . . . dxxxii\n     30. Maan ben Zaideh and the Bedouin . . . . . . . . . dxxxii\n     31. The City of Lebtait . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . dxxxii\n     32. The Khalif Hisham and the Arab Youth. . . . . . . dxxxiv\n     33. Ibrahim ben el Mehdi and the Barber-Surgeon . . . dxxxiv\n     34. The City of Irem. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . dxxxviii\n     35. Isaac of Mosul's Story of Khedijeh and the Khalif Mamoundxl\n     36. The Mock Khalif . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . dxliii\n     37. The Imam Abou Yousuf with Er Reshid and Jaafer. . . .dlv\n     38. The Lover who feigned himself a Thief to save his Mistress's Honourdlvii\n     39. Abou Mohammed the Lazy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . dlviii\n     40. Jaafer ben Yehya and Abdulmelik ben Salih . . . . . dlxv\n     41. Jaafer ben Yehya [FN#229] and the Man who forged a Letter in his Namedlxvi\n     42. Er Reshid and the Barmecides. . . . . . . . . . . dlxvii\n     43. Ibn es Semmak and Er Reshid . . . . . . . . . . .dlxviii\n     44. El Mamoun and Zubeideh. . . . . . . . . . . . . .dlxviii\n     45. Ali Shir [FN#230] and Zumurrud. . . . . . . . . . .dlxix\n     46. The Loves of Budour and Jubeir ben Umeir. . . . dlxxxvii\n     47. The Man of Yemen and his six Slave-girls. . . . . . dxcv\n     48. Haroun Er Reshid with the Damsel and Abou Nuwas . . . dc\n     49. The Man who stole the Dog's Dish of Gold. . . . . . dcii\n     50. El Melik en Nasir and the Three Masters of Police .dciii\n          a. Story of the Chief of the New Cairo Police. . . dciv\n          b. Story of the Chief of the Boulac Police . . . . .dcv\n          c. Story of the Chief of the Old Cairo Police. . . .dcv\n     51. The Thief and the Money-changer . . . . . . . . . . .dcv\n     52. Ibrahim ben el Mehdi and the Merchant's Sister. . . dcvi\n     53. King Kelyaad [FN#231] of Hind and his Vizier Shimas dcix\n          a. The Cat and the Mouse . . . . . . . . . . . . . dcix\n          b. The Fakir and his Pot of Butter . . . . . . . . .dcx\n          c. The Fishes and the Crab . . . . . . . . . . . . dcxi\n          d. The Crow and the Serpent. . . . . . . . . . . . dcxi\n          e. The Fox and the Wild Ass. . . . . . . . . . . . dcxi\n          f. The Unjust King and the Pilgrim Prince. . . . .dcxii\n          g. The Crows and the Hawk. . . . . . . . . . . . dcxiii\n          h. The Serpent-Charmer and his Wife. . . . . . . .dcxiv\n          i. The Spider and the Wind . . . . . . . . . . . . dcxv\n          j. The Two Kings . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .dcxvi\n          k. The Blind Man and the Cripple . . . . . . . . .dcxvi\n          l. The Foolish Fisherman . dcxxvi\n          m. The Boy and the Thieves . . . . . . . . . . .dcxxvii\n          n. The Man and his Wilful Wife . . . . . . . . dcxxviii\n          o. The Merchant and the Thieves. . . . . . . . . dcxxix\n          p. The Foxes and the Wolf. . . . . . . . . . . . .dcxxx\n          q. The Shepherd and the Thief. . . . . . . . . .dcxxxii\n          r. The Heathcock and the Tortoises . . . . . . .dcxxxiv\n     54. The Woman whose Hands were cut off for Almsgiving .dcxli\n     55. The Poor Man and his Generous Friend. . . . . . .dcxliii\n     56. The Ruined Man who became Rich again through a Dreamdcxliv\n     57. Abou Nuwas with the Three Boys and the Khalif Haroun er Reshiddcxlv\n     58. The Lovers of the Benou Udhreh [FN#232] . . . . . dcxlvi\n     59. El Mutelemmis and his Wife Umeimeh. . . . . . . dcxlviii\n     60. Haroun Er Reshid and Zubeideh in the Bath . . . dcxlviii\n     61. Musab ben ez Zubeir and Aaisheh his Wife. . . . . dcxlix\n     62. Aboulaswed and his Squinting Slave-girl . . . . . . dcli\n     63. Haroun er Reshid and the Two Girls. . . . . . . . . dcli\n     64. Haroun er Reshid and the Three Girls. . . . . . . . dcli\n     65. The Simpleton and the Sharper . . . . . . . . . . .dclii\n     66. The Imam Abou Yousuf with Er Reshid and Zubeideh. .dclii\n     67. The Khalif El Hakim and the Merchant. . . . . . . dcliii\n     68. Kisra Anoushirwan and the Village Damsel. . . . . dcliii\n     69. The Water-Carrier and the Goldsmith's Wife. . . . .dcliv\n     70. Khusrau and Shirin and the Fisherman. . . . . . . .dclvi\n     71. Yehya ben Khalid and the Poor Man . . . . . . . . .dclvi\n     73. Mohammed el Amin and Jaafer ben el Hadi . . . . . dclvii\n     73. The Woman's Trick against her Husband . . . . . .dclviii\n     74. The Devout Woman and the Two Wicked Elders. . . . .dclix\n     75 El Fezl ben Rebiya[FN#233] and the Old Bedouin . . . dclx\n     76 En Numan and the Arab of the Benou Tai . . . . . . . dclx\n     77 The Draper and the Thief[FN#234] . . . . . . . . . .dclxi\n     78. Mesrour and Ibn el Caribi . . . . . . . . . . . . dclxii\n     79. The Devout Prince . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . dclxiv\n     80. The Schoolmaster who fell in Love by Report . . . .dclxv\n     81. The Foolish Schoolmaster. . . . . . . . . . . . . dclxvi\n     82. The Ignorant Man who set up for a Schoolmaster. .dclxvii\n     83. Adi ben Zeid and the Princess Hind. . . . . . . dclxviii\n     84. Dibil el Khuzai with the Lady and Muslim ben el Weliddclxx\n     85. Isaac of Mosul and the Merchant . . . . . . . . . .dclxx\n     86. The Three Unfortunate Lovers. . . . . . . . . . .dclxxii\n     87. The Lovers of the Benou Tai . . . . . . . . . . dclxxiii\n     88. The Mad Lover . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .dclxxiv\n     89. Firous and his Wife . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . dclxxv\n     90. The Apples of Paradise. . . . . . . . . . . . . .dclxxvi\n     91. The Loves of Abou Isa and Curret el Ain . . . .dclxxviii\n     92. El Amin and his Uncle Ibrahim ben el Mehdi. . . dclxxxii\n     93. El Feth ben Khacan and El Mutawekkil. . . . . .dclxxxiii\n     94. The Man's Dispute with the Learned Woman of the relative Excellence of\n          the Sexes. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .dclxxxiii\n     95. Abou Suweid and the Handsome Old Woman. . . . .dclxxxvii\n     96. Ali ben Tahir and the Girl Mounis . . . . . . dclxxxviii\n     97. The Woman who had a Boy and the other who had a Man to Loverdclxxxviii\n     98. The Haunted House in Baghdad. . . . . . . . . dclxxxviii\n     99. The History of Gherib and his brother Agib. . . dcxcviii\n     100. The Rogueries of Delileh the Crafty and her Daughter Zeyneb the Trickstressdcclvi\n     101. The Adventures of Quicksilver Ali of Cairo . . .dcclxvi\n     102. Jouder and his Brothers. . . . . . . . . . . . .dcclxxv\n     103. Julnar of the Sea and her Son King Bedr Basim of Persiadccxciv\n     104. Mesrour and Zein el Mewasif. . . . . . . . . . .dcccxxi\n     105. Ali Noureddin and the Frank King's Daughter. . dcccxxxi\n     106. The Man of Upper Egypt and his Frank Wife. . . dccclxii\n     107. The Ruined Man of Baghdad and his Slave-girl . dccclxiv\n     108. Aboukir the Dyer and Abousir the Barber. . . .dccclxvii\n     109. Abdallah the Fisherman and Abdallah the Mermandccclxxvii\n     110. King Shah Bekhi and his Vizier Er Rehwan . . .dccclxxxv\n          a. The Man of Khorassan, his Son and his Governordccclxxxvi\n          b. The Singer and the Druggist . . . . . . dccclxxxviii\n          c. The King who knew the Quintessence of Things.dcccxci\n          d. The Rich Man who gave his Fair Daughter in Marriage to the\n               Poor Old Man. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . dcccxcii\n          e. The Rich Man and his Wasteful Son . . . . .dcccxciii\n          f. The King's Son who fell in Love with the Picturedcccxciv\n          g. The Fuller and his Wife . . . . . . . . . . dcccxcvi\n          h. The Old Woman, the Merchant and the King. . dcccxcvi\n          i. The Credulous Husband . . . . . . . . . . dcccxcviii\n          j. The Unjust King and the Tither. . . . . . . dcccxcix\n               ja. Story of David and Solomon. . . . . . dcccxcix\n          h. The Thief and the Woman . . . . . . . . . . dcccxcix\n          l. The Three Men and our Lord Jesus. . . . . . . dcccci\n               la. The Disciple's Story. . . . . . . . . . dcccci\n          m. The Dethroned King whose Kingdom and Good were Restored to Himdcccci\n          n. The Man whose Caution was the Cause of his Deathdcccciii\n          o. The Man who was lavish of his House and his Victual to one whom\n               he knew not . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .dcccciv\n          p. The Idiot and the Sharper . . . . . . . . . . dccccv\n          q. Khelbes and his Wife and the Learned Man. . .dccccvi\n          r. The Pious Woman accused of Lewdness . . . . dccccvii\n          s. The Journeyman and the Girl . . . . . . . . .dccccix\n          t. The Weaver who became a Physician by his Wife's Commandmentdccccix\n          u. The Two Sharpers who cheated each his Fellow.dccccxi\n          v. The Sharpers with the Money-Changer and the Assdccccxiv\n          w. The Sharper and the Merchants . . . . . . . .dccccxv\n               wa. The Hawk and the Locust . . . . . . . dccccxvi\n          x. The King and his Chamberlain's Wife . . . .dccccxvii\n               xa. The Old Woman and the Draper's Wife .dccccxvii\n          y. The foul-favoured Man and his Fair Wife . dccccxviii\n          z. The King who lost Kingdom and Wife and Wealth and God\n               restored them to him. . . . . . . . . . . dccccxix\n          aa. Selim and Selma. . . . . . . . . . . . . .dccccxxii\n          bb. The King of Hind and his Visier. . . . .dccccxxviii\n     111 El Melik es Zahir Rukneddin Bibers el Bunducdari and the Sixteen\n          Officers of Police . . . . . . . . . . . . . . dccccxxx\n          a. The First Officer's Story . . . . . . . . . dccccxxx\n          b. The Second Officer's Story. . . . . . . . dccccxxxii\n          c. The Third Officer's Story . . . . . . . . dccccxxxii\n          d. The Fourth Officer's Story. . . . . . . . dccccxxxiv\n          e. The Fifth Officer's Story . . . . . . . . dccccxxxiv\n          f. The Sixth Officer's Story . . . . . . . . dccccxxxiv\n          g. The Seventh Officer's Story . . . . . . . dccccxxxiv\n          h. The Eighth Officer's Story. . . . . . . . .dccccxxxv\n               ha. The Thief's Story . . . . . . . . dccccxxxviii\n          i The Ninth Officer's Story. . . . . . . . dccccxxxviii\n          j. The Tenth Officer's Story . . . . . . . dccccxxxviii\n          k. The Eleventh Officer's Story. . . . . . dccccxxxviii\n          l. The Twelfth Officer's Story . . . . . . . dccccxxxix\n          m. The Thirteenth Officer's Story. . . . . . dccccxxxix\n          n. The Fourteenth Officer's Story. . . . . . dccccxxxix\n               na. A Merry Jest of a Thief . . . . . . . .dccccxl\n               nb. Story of the Old Sharper. . . . . . . .dccccxl\n          o. The Fifteenth Officer's Story . . . . . . . .dccccxl\n          p. The Sixteenth Officer's Story . . . . . . . .dccccxl\n     112. Abdallah ben Nafi and the King's Son of Cashghardccccxli\n          a. Story of Tuhfet el Culoub and Haroun er Reshiddccccxlii\n     113. Noureddin Ali and Sitt el Milah. . . . . . . dcccclviii\n     114. El Abbas and the King's Daughter of Baghdad. .dcccclxvi\n     115. The Malice of Women. . . . . . . . . . . . . dcccclxxix\n          a. The King and his Vizier's Wife. . . . . . .dcccclxxx\n          b, The Merchant's Wife and the Parrot. . . . .dcccclxxx\n          c. The Fuller and his Son. . . . . . . . . . .dcccclxxx\n          d. The Lover's Trick against the Chaste Wife .dcccclxxx\n          e. The Niggard and the Loaves of Bread . . .dcccclxxxiv\n          f. The Lady and her Two Lovers . . . . . . .dcccclxxxiv\n          g. The King's Son and the Ogress . . . . . . dcccclxxxv\n          h. The Drop of Honey . . . . . . . . . . . .dcccclxxxvi\n          i. The Woman who made her Husband Sift Dust.dcccclxxxvi\n          j. The Enchanted Springs . . . . . . . . . .dcccclxxxvi\n          k. The Vizier's Son and the Bathkeeper's Wifedcccclxxxviii\n          l. The Wife's Device to Cheat her Husband. .dcccclxxxix\n          m. The Goldsmith and the Cashmere Singing-Girl .dccccxc\n          n. The Man who never Laughed again . . . . . . dccccxci\n          o. The King's Son and the Merchant's Wife. . dccccxciii\n          p. The Man who saw the Night of Power. . . . dccccxciii\n          q. The Stolen Necklace . . . . . . . . . . . .dccccxciv\n          r. Prince Behram of Persia and the Princess Ed Detmadccccxciv\n          s. The House with the Belvedere. . . . . . . . dccccxcv\n          t. The Sandalwood Merchant and the Sharpers.dccccxcviii\n          u. The Debauchee and the Three-year-old Childdccccxcviii\n          v. The Stolen Purse. . . . . . . . . . . . . .dccccxcix\n          w. The Fox and the Folk[FN#235]. . . . . . . . . . . .M\n     116. The Two Kings and the Vizier's Daughters . . . . . . .M\n     117. The Favourite and her Lover. . . . . . . . . . . . . .M\n     118. The Merchant of Cairo and the Favourite of the Khalif El Mamoun\n          El Hikim bi Amrillak . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .M\nConclusion\n\n\n\n\n\n              TABLE OF CONTENTS OF THE UNFINISHED\n         CALCUTTA (1814-18) EDITION (FIRST TWO HUNDRED\n          NIGHTS ONLY) OF THE ARABIC TEXT OF THE BOOK\n             OF THE THOUSAND NIGHTS AND ONE NIGHT.\n\n\n\nIntroduction.\n          a. The Ox and the Ass\n     1. The Merchant and the Genie . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .i\n          a. The First Old Man's Story . . . . . . . . . . . . ii\n          b. The Second Old Man's Story[FN#236]. . . . . . . . iv\n     2. The Fisherman and the Genie. . . . . . . . . . . . . viii\n          a. The Physician Douban. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xi\n               aa. The Merchant and the Parrot . . . . . . . .xiv\n               ab. The King's Son and the Ogress . . . . . . . xv\n          b. The Enchanted Youth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .xxi\n     3. The Porter and the Three Ladies of Baghdad . . . . xxviii\n          a. The First Calender's Story. . . . . . . . . . .xxxix\n          b. The Second Calender's Story . . . . . . . . . . xlii\n               ba. The Envier and the Envied . . . . . . . . xlvi\n          c. The Third Calender's Story. . . . . . . . . . . liii\n          d. The Eldest Lady's Story[FN#237] . . . . . . . . lxiv\n     4. The Three Apples . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . lxviii\n     5. Noureddin Ali of Cairo and his Son Bedreddin Hassan.lxxii\n     6. Isaac of Mosul's Story of Khedijeh and the Khalif El Mamounxciv\n     7. Story of the Hunchback . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ci\n          a. The Christian Broker's Story. . . . . . . . . . .cix\n          b. The Cook's Story[FN#238]. . . . . . . . . . . . cxxi\n          c. The Jewish Physician's Story. . . . . . . . . .cxxix\n          d. The Tailor's Story. . . . . . . . . . . . . . cxxxvi\n          e. The Barber's Story. . . . . . . . . . . . . . cxliii\n               ea. Story of the Barber's First Brother . . . cxlv\n               eb. Story of the Barber's Second Brother. .cxlviii\n               ec. Story of the Barber's Third Brother . . . .cli\n               ed. Story of the Barber's Fourth Brother. . . clii\n               ee. Story of the Barber's Fifth Brother . . . cliv\n               ef. Story of the Barber's Sixth Brother . . clviii\n     8. Ali ben Bekkar and Shemsennehar. . . . . . . . . . clxiii\n     9. Noureddin Ali and the Damsel Ennis el Jelis. . . . clxxxi\n     10. Women's Craft . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .cxcv-cc\n     11. Sindbad the Sailor and Hindbad the Porter[FN#239]\n          a. The First Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor\n          b. The Second Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor\n          c. The Third Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor\n          d. The Fourth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor\n          e. The Fifth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor\n          f. The Sixth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor\n          g. The Seventh Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor\n\n\n\n\n\n          ALPHABETICAL TABLE OF THE FIRST LINES OF THE\n             VERSE IN THE \"TALES FROM THE ARABIC.\"\n\n\n\nN.B.--The Roman numerals denote the volume, the Arabic the page\n\nA Damsel made for love and decked with subtle grace, iii. 192.\nA fair one, to idolaters if she herself should show, iii. 10.\nA sun of beauty she appears to all who look on her, iii. 191.\nA white one, from her sheath of tresses now laid bare, ii. 291.\nAfter your loss, nor trace of me nor vestige would remain, iii. 41.\nAlgates ye are our prey become; this many a day and night, iii. 6.\nAll intercessions come and all alike do ill succeed, ii. 218.\nAn if my substance fail, no one there is will succour me, i. 6.\nAn if ye'd of evil be quit, look that no evil ye do, ii. 192.\nAssemble, ye people of passion, I pray, iii. 31.\nAwaken, O ye sleepers all, and profit, whilst it's here, ii. 234.\n\nBeard of the old he-goat, the one-eyed, what shall be, ii. 231.\nBehold, I am clad in a robe of leaves green, ii. 242.\nBut for the spying of the eyes [ill-omened,] we had seen, i. 50.\nBy Allah, but that I trusted that I should meet you again, ii. 266.\nBy Him whom I worship, indeed, I swear, O thou that mine eye dost fill, ii. 213.\n\nDamascus is all gardens decked for the pleasance of the eyes, iii. 9.\nDrink ever, O lovers, I rede you, of wine, ii. 230.\n\nEl Abbas from Akil his stead is come again, iii. 108.\nEndowed with amorous grace past any else am I, ii 253.\n\nFair fall the maid whose loosened locks her cheeks do overcloud! iii. 191.\nFair patience practise, for thereon still followeth content, iii. 116.\nFair patience use, for ease still followeth after stress, iii. 117.\nFor the uses of food I was fashioned and made, ii. 223.\n\"Forget him,\" quoth my censurers, \"forget him; what is he?\" iii. 42.\nFortune its arrows all, through him I love, let fly, iii. 31.\nFull many a man incited me to infidelity, i. 205.\n\nGod judge betwixt me and her lord! Away, i. 48.\nGod keep the days of love-delight! How dearly sweet they were! i. 225.\nGod keep the days of love-delight! How passing sweet they were! ii. 96\nGod knows I ne'er recalled thy memory to my thought, iii. 46.\n\nHad we thy coming known, we would for sacrifice, i. 13.\nHaste not to that thou dost desire; for haste is still unblest, ii. 88.\nHe who Mohammed sent, as prophet to mankind, i. 50.\nHis love he'd have hid, but his tears denounced him to the spy, iii. 42\nHis love on him took pity and wept for his dismay, ii. 210.\nHow long, O Fate, wilt thou oppress and baffle me? ii. 69.\nHow long shall I thus question my heart that's drowned in woe? iii. 42.\nHow long will ye admonished be, without avail or heed? iii. 40.\nHow many, in Yemameh, dishevelled widows plain! i. 50.\n\nI am content, for him I love, to all abide, iii. 25.\nI am filled full of longing pain and memory and dole, iii. 15.\nI am the champion-slayer he warrior without peer, iii. 94. 249----\nI clipped her in mine arms and straight grew drunken with the scent, iii. 125.\nI fear to be seen in the air, ii. 255.\nI marvel for that to my love I see thee now incline, iii. 112.\nI saw thee, O thou best of all the human race, display, i. 46.\nI swear by his life, yea, I swear by the life of my love without peer, iii. 21.\nIf I must die, then welcome death to heal, iii. 23.\nIf, in his own land, midst his folk, abjection and despite, ii. 196.\nI'm the crown of every sweet and fragrant weed, ii. 255.\nIn every rejoicing a boon[FN#240] midst the singers and minstrels am I, ii. 258\nIn my soul the fire of yearning and affliction rageth aye, iii. 65.\nIndeed, thou'st told the tale of kings and men of might, iii. 87.\nIt chances whiles that the blind man escapes a pit, ii. 51.\nIt is as the jasmine, when it I espy, ii. 236.\n\nLet destiny with loosened rein its course appointed fare, iii. 211\nLike a sun at the end of a cane in a hill of sand, iii. 190.\nLike the full moon she shows upon a night of fortune fair, iii. 191.\nLo, since the day I left you, O my masters, iii. 24.\nLook at the moss-rose, on its branches seen, ii. 256.\n\nMay the place of my session ne'er lack thee! Oh, why, iii. 118\nMe, till I stricken was therewith, to love thou didst excite, iii. 113\nMidst colours, my colour excelleth in light, ii. 258.\nMost like a wand of emerald my shape it is, trow I, ii. 245.\nMy flower a marvel on your heads doth show, ii. 254.\nMy fortitude fails, my endeavour is vain, ii. 95.\nMy fruit is a jewel all wroughten of gold, ii. 245.\nMy heart will never credit that I am far from thee, ii. 275.\nMy secret is disclosed, the which I strove to hide, iii. 89.\nMy watering lips, that cull the rose of thy soft cheek, declare, iii. 134.\n\nNo good's in life (to the counsel list of one who's purpose-whole), i. 28.\n\nO amir of justice, be kind to thy subjects, iii. 24.\nO friends, the East wind waxeth, the morning draweth near, iii. 123.\nO friends, the tears flow ever, in mockery of my pain, iii. 116.\nO hills of the sands and the rugged piebald plain, iii. 20.\nO thou that blamest me for my heart and railest at my ill, ii. 101.\nO thou that questionest the lily of its scent, ii. 256.\nO son of Simeon, give no ear to other than my say, iii. 36.\nO'er all the fragrant flowers that be I have the pref'rence aye, ii. 235.\nO'erbold art thou in that to me, a stranger, thou hast sent, iii. 83.\nOft as my yearning waxeth, my heart consoleth me, ii. 228.\nOne of the host am I of lovers sad and sere, ii. 252.\n\nPease on thee! Would our gaze might light on thee once more! ii. 89.\nPeace on you, people of my troth! With peace I do you greet, ii. 224.\n\nQuoth I (and mine a body is of passion all forslain), iii. 81.\n\nRail not at the vicissitudes of Fate, ii. 219.\nRamazan in my life ne'er I fasted, nor e'er, i. 49.\n\nSay, by the lightnings of thy teeth and thy soul's pure desire, iii. 19.\nShe comes in a robe the colour of ultramarine, iii. 190.\nSherik ben Amrou, what device avails the hand of death to stay? i. 204.\nSome with religion themselves concern and make it their business all, i. 48.\nStill by your ruined camp a dweller I abide, ii. 209.\nStill do I yearn, whilst passion's fire flames in my liver are, iii. 111\n\nThe absent ones' harbinger came us unto, iii. 153.\nThe billows of thy love o'erwhelm me passing sore, ii. 226.\nThe crown of the flow'rets am I, in the chamber of wine, ii. 224.\nThe Merciful dyed me with that which I wear, ii. 245.\nThe season of my presence is never at an end, ii. 246.\nThe two girls let me down from fourscore fathoms' height, i. 49.\nThe zephyr's sweetness on the coppice blew, ii. 235.\nThey have departed, but the steads yet full of them remain, ii. 239.\nThey have shut out thy person from my sight, iii. 43.\nThou that the dupe of yearning art, how many a melting wight, iii. 86.\nThou that wast absent from my stead, yet still with me didst bide, iii. 46.\nThy haters say and those who malice to thee bear, iii. 8.\nThy letter reached me; when the words thou wrot'st therein I read, iii. 84.\nThy loss is the fairest of all my heart's woes, iii. 43.\nThy presence honoureth us and we, i. 13.\nTo his beloved one the lover's heart's inclined, iii. 22.\n'Twere better and meeter thy presence to leave, ii. 85.\n'Twere fitter and better my loves that I leave, i. 26.\n\nUnto its pristine lustre your land returned and more, iii. 132.\nUnto me the whole world's gladness is thy nearness and thy sight, iii. 15.\nUpon the parting day our loves from us did fare, iii. 114.\n\nWere not the darkness still in gender masculine, iii. 193.\nWhat strength have I solicitude and long desire to bear, iii. 20.\nWhen in the sitting-chamber we for merry-making sate, iii. 135.\nWhenas mine eyes behold thee not, that day, iii. 47.\nWhenas the soul desireth one other than its peer, ii 207.\nWind of the East, if thou pass by the land where my loved ones dwell, I pray, ii. 204, 271.\nWould God upon that bitterest day, when my death calls for me, i. 47\nWould we may live together, and when we come to die, i. 47.\n\nYe chide at one who weepeth for troubles ever new, iii. 30.\nYe know I'm passion-maddened, racked with love and languishment, ii. 230.\nYour coming to-me-ward, indeed, with \"Welcome! Fair welcome!\" I hail, iii. 136.\nYour water I'll leave without drinking, for there, i. 210.\n\n\n\n\n\n           INDEX TO THE NAMES OF THE \"TALES FROM THE\n                            ARABIC\"\n\n\n\nN.B.-The Roman numerals denote the volume, the Arabic the page\n\nAbbas (El) and the King's Daughter of Baghdad, iii. 53.\nAbbaside, Jaafer ben Yehya and Abdulmelik ben Salih the, i. 183.\nAbdallah ben Nafi and the King's Son of Cashghar, ii. 195.\nAbdulmelik ben Salih the Abbaside, Jaafer ben Yehya, and, i. 183.\nAbou Sabir, Story of, i. 90.\nAbou Temam, Story of Ilan Shah and, i. 126.\nActions, Of the Issues of Good and Evil, i. 103.\nAdvantages of Patience, Of the, i. 89.\nAffairs, Of Looking to the Issues of, i. 80.\nAli of Damascus and Sitt el Milah, Noureddin, iii. 3.\nAppointed Term, Of the, i. 147.\nArab of the Benou Tai, En Numan and the, i. 203.\nAsleep and Awake, i. 5.\nAss, the Sharpers, the Money-Changer and the, ii. 41.\nAwake, Asleep and, i. 5.\nAzadbekht and his Son, History of King, i. 61\n\nBaghdad, El Abbas and the King's Daughter of, iii. 53.\nBarmecides, Er Reshid and the, i. 189.\nBarmecides, Haroun er Reshid and the Woman of the, i. 57.\nBekhtzeman, Story of King, i. 115.\nBenou Tai, En Numan and the Arab of the, i. 203.\nBibers el Bunducdari and the Sixteen Officers of Police, El Melik ez Zahir Rukneddin, ii. 117.\nBihkerd, Story of King, i. 121.\nBihzad, Story of Prince, i. 99.\nBunducdari (El) and the Sixteen Officers of Police, El Melik ez Zahir Rukneddin Bibers, ii. 117.\n\nCairo (The Merchant of) and the Favourite of the Khalif El Mamoun El Hakim bi Amrillah, iii.\n     171.\nCashghar, Abdallah ben Nafi and the King's Son of, ii. 195.\nCaution was the Cause of his Death, The Man whose, i 291.\nChamberlain's Wife, The King and his, ii. 53.\nClemency, Of, i. 120.\nCook, The Lackpenny and the, i. 9.\nCraft, Women's, ii. 287.\nCredulous Husband, The, i. 270.\n\nDadbin (King) and his Viziers, Story of, i. 104.\nDamascus (Noureddin Ali of) and Sitt el Milah, iii. 3.\nDaughter of the Poor Old Man, The Rich Man who married his Fair, i. 247.\nDaughters, The Two Kings and the Vizier's, iii. 145.\nDavid and Solomon, i. 275.\nDeath, The Man whose Caution was the Cause of his, i. 291.\nDestiny, Of, i. 136.\nDethroned King whose Kingdom and Good were restored to him, The, i. 285.\nDisciple's Story, The, i. 283.\nDraper's Wife, The Old Woman and the, ii. 55.\nDruggist, The Singer and the, i. 229.\n\nEighth Officer's Story, The, ii. 155.\nEleventh Officer's Story, The, ii. 175.\nEndeavour against Persistent Ill Fortune, Of the Uselessness of, i. 70.\nEnvy and Malice, Of, i. 125.\n\nFavourite and her Lover, The, iii. 165.\nFavourite of the Khalif El Mamoun el Hakim bi Amrillah, The Merchant of Cairo and the, iii. 171.\nFifteenth Officer's Story, The, ii. 190.\nFifth Officer's Story, The, ii. 144.\nFirouz and his Wife, i. 209.\nFirst Officer's Story, The, ii. 122.\nForehead, Of that which is written on the, i. 136.\nFortune, Of the Uselessness of Endeavour against Persistent Ill, i. 70.\nFoul-favoured Man and his Fair Wife, The, ii. 61.\nFourteenth Officer's Story, The, ii. 183.\nFourth Officer's Story, The, ii. 142.\nFuller and his Wife, The, i. 261.\n\nGirl, The Journeyman and the, ii. 17.\nGod, Of the Speedy Relief of, i. 174.\nGod, Of Trust in, i. 114.\nGovernor, Story of the Man of Khorassan, his Son and his, i. 218.\n\nHakim (El) bi Amrillah, The Merchant and the Favourite of the Khalif El Mamoun, iii. 171.\nHaroun er Reshid, Tuhfet el Culoub and, ii. 203.\nHaroun er Reshid and the Woman of the Barmecides, i. 57.\nHawk and the Locust, The, ii. 50.\nHejjaj (El) and the Three Young Men, i. 53.\nHind and his Vizier, The King of, ii. 105.\nHindbad the Porter, Sindbad the Sailor and, iii. 199.\nHusband, The Credulous, i. 270.\n\nIbn es Semmak and Er Reshid, i. 195.\nIbrahim and his Son, Story of King, i. 138.\nIdiot and the Sharper, The, i. 298.\nIlan Shah and Abou Temam, Story of, i. 126.\nIll Effects of Precipitation, Of the, i. 98.\nIll Fortune, Of the Uselessness of Endeavour against Persistent, i 70.\nIssues of Affairs, Of Looking to the, i. 80.\nIssues of Good and Evil Actions, Of the, i. 103.\n\nJaafer ben Yehya and Abdulmelik ben Salih the Abbaside, i. 183.\nJest of a Thief, A Merry, ii. 186.\nJesus, The Three Men and our Lord, i. 282.\nJourneyman and the Girl, The, ii. 17.\n\nKhalif, El Mamoun El Hakim bi Amrillah, The Merchant of Cairo and the Favourite of the, iii.\n     171.\nKhalif Omar ben Abdulaziz and the Poets, The, i. 45.\nKhelbes and his Wife and the Learned Man, i. 301.\nKhorassan, his Son and his Governor, Story of the Man of, i. 218.\nKing Azadbekht and his Son, History of, i. 61.\nKing Bekhtzeman, Story of, i. 115.\nKing Bihkerd, Story of, i. 121.\nKing and his Chamberlain's Wife, The, ii. 53.\nKing Dadbin and his Viziers, Story of, i. 104.\nKing (The Dethroned), whose Kingdom and Good were restored to him, i. 285.\nKing of Ind and his Vizier, The, ii. 105.\nKing Ibrahim and his Son, Story of, i. 138.\nKing who lost Kingdom and Wife and Wealth, The, ii. 66.\nKing, The Old Woman, the Merchant and the, i. 265.\nKing who knew the Quintessence of Things, The, i. 230.\nKing Shah Bekht and his Vizier Er Rehwan, i. 215.\nKing Suleiman Shah and his Sons, Story of, i. 150\nKing (The Unjust) and the Tither, i. 273.\nKing's Daughter of Baghdad, El Abbas and the, iii. 53.\nKing's Son of Cashghar, Abdullah ben Nafi and the, ii. 195.\nKings and the Vizier's Daughters, The Two, iii. 145.\n\nLackpenny and the Cook, The, i. 9.\nLavish of House and Victual to one whom he knew not, The Man who was, i. 293.\nLearned Man, Khelbes and his Wife and the, i. 301.\nLewdness, The Pious Woman accused of, ii. 5.\nLocust, The Hawk and the, ii. 50.\nLooking to the Issues of Affairs, Of, i. 80.\nLover, The Favourite and her, iii. 165.\n\nMalice, Of Envy and, i. 125.\nMamoun (El) El Hakim bi Amrillah, The Merchant and the Favourite of the Khalif, iii. 171.\nMamoun (El) and Zubeideh, i. 199.\nMan whose Caution was the Cause of his Death, The, i. 291.\nMan and his Fair Wife, The Foul-favoured, ii. 61.\nMan of Khorassan, his Son and his Governor, Story of the, i. 218.\nMan who was lavish of House and Victual to One whom he knew not, The, i 293.\nMariyeh, El Abbas and, iii. 53.\nMarriage to the Poor Old Man, The Rich Man who gave his Fair Daughter in, i. 247.\nMelik (El) Ez Zahir Rukneddin Bibers el Bunducdari and the Sixteen Officers of Police, ii. 117.\nMen and our Lord Jesus, The Three, i. 282.\nMerchant of Cairo and the Favourite of the Khalif El Maraoun El Hakim bi Amrillah, The, iii.\n     171.\nMerchant and the King, The Old Woman, the, i. 265.\nMerchant and his Sons, The, i. 81.\nMerchant, The Unlucky, i. 73.\nMerchants, The Sharper and the, ii. 46.\nMerouzi (El) and Er Razi, ii. 28.\nMerry Jest of a Thief, A, ii. 186.\nMoney-Changer and the Ass, The Sharpers, the, ii. 41.\n\nNinth Officer's Story, The, ii. 167.\nNoureddin Ali of Damascus and Sitt el Milan, iii, 3.\nNuman (En) and the Arab of the Benou Tai, i. 203.\n\nOfficer's Story, The First, ii. 122.\nOfficer's Story, The Second, ii. 134.\nOfficer's Story, The Third, ii. 137.\nOfficer's Story, The Fourth, ii. 142.\nOfficer's Story, The Fifth, ii. 144.\nOfficer's Story, The Sixth, ii. 146.\nOfficer's Story, The Seventh, ii. 150.\nOfficer's Story, the Eighth, ii. 155.\nOfficer's Story, The Ninth, ii. 167.\nOfficer's Story, The Tenth, ii. 172.\nOfficer's Story, The Eleventh, ii. 175.\nOfficer's Story, The Twelfth, ii. 179.\nOfficer's Story, The Thirteenth, ii. 181.\nOfficer's Story, The Fourteenth, ii. 183.\nOfficer's Story, The Fifteenth, ii. 190.\nOfficer's Story, The Sixteenth, ii. 193.\nOfficers of Police, El Melik ez Zahir Rukneddin Bibers el Bunducdar and the Sixteen, ii. 117.\nOld Sharper, Story of the, ii. 187.\nOld Woman and the Draper's Wife, The, ii. 55.\nOld Woman, the Merchant and the King, The, i. 265.\nOmar ben Abdulaziz and the Poets, The Khalif, i. 45.\n\nPatience, Of the Advantages of, i. 89.\nPhysician by his Wife's Commandment, The Weaver who became a, ii. 21.\nPicture, The Prince who fell in love with the, i. 256.\nPious Woman accused of Lewdness, The, ii. 5.\nPoets, The Khalif Omar ben Abdulaziz and the, i. 45.\nPolice, El Melik ez Zahir Rukneddin Bibers el Bunducdari and the Sixteen Officers of, ii. 117.\nPoor Old Man, The Rich Man who gave his Fair Daughter in Marriage to the, i. 247.\nPorter, Sindbad the Sailor and Hindbad the, iii. 199\nPrecipitation, Of the Ill Effects of, i. 98\nPrince Bihzad, Story of, i. 99.\nPrince who fell in Love with the Picture, The, i. 256.\nPrisoner and how God gave him Relief, Story of the, i. 174.\n\nQuintessence of Things, The King who knew the, i. 230.\n\nRazi (Er) and El Merouzi, ii. 28.\nRehwan (Er), King Shah Bekht and his Vizier, i. 215.\nRelief of God, Of the Speedy, i. 174.\nRelief, Story of the Prisoner and how God gave him, i. 174.\nReshid (Er) and the Barmecides, i. 189.\nReshid (Er), Ibn es Semmak and, i. 195.\nReshid (Er), Tuhfet el Culoub and, ii. 203.\nReshid (Haroun er) and the Woman of the Barmecides, i. 57.\nRich Man who gave his Fair Daughter in Marriage to the Poor Old Man, The, i. 247.\nRich Man and his Wasteful Son, The, i. 252.\n\nSabir (Abou), Story of, i. 90.\nSailor and Hindbad the Porter, Sindbad the, iii. 199.\nSecond Officer's Story, The, ii. 134.\nSelim and Selma, ii. 81.\nSelma, Selim and, ii. 81.\nSemmak (Ibn es) and Er Reshid, i. 195.\nSeventh Officer's Story, The, ii. 150.\nSeventh Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor, The, iii. 224.\nShah Bekht and his Vizier Er Rehwan, King, i. 215.\nSharper, The Idiot and the, i. 298.\nSharper and the Merchant, The, ii. 46\nSharper, Story of the Old, ii. 187.\nSharpers who cheated each his Fellow, The Two, ii. 28.\nSharpers, The Money-Changer and the Ass, The, ii. 41.\nShehriyar, Shehrzad and, ii. 111, iii. 141, 157.\nShehrzad and Shehriyar, ii. 111, iii. 141, 157.\nSindbad the Sailor and Hindbad the Porter, iii. 199.\nSindbad the Sailor, The Seventh Voyage of, iii. 224.\nSindbad the Sailor, The Sixth Voyage of, iii. 203.\nSinger and the Druggist, The, i. 229.\nSitt el Milah, Noureddin Ali of Damascus and, iii. 3.\nSixteen Officers of Police, El Melik ez Zahir Rukneddin Bibers el Bunducdari and the, ii. 117.\nSixteenth Officer's Story, The, ii. 193.\nSixth Officer's Story, The, ii. 146.\nSixth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor, The, iii. 203.\nSolomon, David and, i. 275.\nSon, The History of King Azadbekht and his, i. 61.\nSon and his Governor, Story of the Man of Khorassan, his, i. 218\nSon, Story of King Ibrahim and his, i. 138.\nSon, The Rich Man and his Wasteful, i. 252.\nSons, Story of King Suleiman Shah and his, i. 150.\nSons, The Merchant and his, i. 81.\nSpeedy Relief of God, Of the, i. 174.\nSuleiman Shah and his Sons, Story of King, i. 150.\n\nTai, En Numan and the Arab of the Benou. i. 203.\nTemam (Abou), Story of Ilan Shah and, i. 126.\nTen Viziers, The, i. 61\nTenth Officer's Story, The, ii. 172\nTerm, Of the Appointed, i. 147.\nThief, A Merry Jest of a, ii. 186.\nThiefs Story, The, ii. 165.\nThief and the Woman, The, i. 278\nThings, The King who knew the Quintessence of, i. 239\nThird Officer's Story, The, ii. 137.\nThirteenth Officer's Story, The, ii. 181.\nThree Men and our Lord Jesus, The, i. 282.\nThree Young Men, El Hejjaj and the, i. 53.\nTither, The Unjust King and the, i. 273.\nTrust in God, Of, 114.\nTuhfet el Culoub and Er Reshid, ii. 203.\nTwelfth Officer's Story, The, ii. I79.\nTwo Kings and the Vizier's Daughters, The, iii. 145\n\nUnjust King and the Tither, The, i. 272\nUnlucky Merchant, The, i 73.\nUselessness of Endeavour against Persistent Ill Fortune, Of the, i. 70\n\nVizier, The King of Hind and his, ii. 105.\nVizier Er Rehwan, King Shah Bekht and his, i. 215.\nVizier's Daughters, The Two Kings and the, iii. 145,\nViziers, Story of King Dadbin and his. i. 104.\nViziers, The Ten, i. 61.\nVoyage of Sindbad the Sailor, The Seventh, iii. 224.\nVoyage of Sindbad the Sailor, The Sixth, iii. 203.\n\nWasteful Son, The Rich Man and his, i. 252.\nWeaver who became a Physician by his Wife's Commandment, The ii. 21.\nWife, The King and his Chamberlain's, ii. 53.\nWife, The Old Woman and the Draper's, ii. 55.\nWife, Firouz aad his, i. 209.\nWife, The Fuller and his, i. 261.\nWife and the Learned Man, Khelbes and his, i. 301.\nWoman accused of Lewdness, The Pious, ii. 5.\nWoman of the Barmecides, Haroun er Reshid and the, i. 57.\nWoman, The Thief and the, i. 278.\nWoman (The Old) and the Draper's Wife, ii. 55.\nWoman (The Old), the Merchant and the King, i. 265.\nWomen's Craft, ii. 287.\n\nYoung Men, El Hejjaj and the Three, i. 53.\n\nZubeideh, El Mamoun and, i. 199\n\n\n\n\n\nThe End.\n\n\n\n\n\n                Tales from the Arabic, Volume 3\n                            Endnotes\n\n\n\n\n\n[FN#1]  Breslau Text, vol. xii. pp. 50-116, Nights dcccclviii-dcccclxv.\n\n[FN#2]  Babylon, according to the Muslims, is the head-quarters of sorcery and it is there that the\ntwo fallen angels, Harout and Marout, who are appointed to tempt mankind by teaching them the\nart of magic, are supposed to be confined.\n\n[FN#3]  i.e. \"my lord,\" a title generally prefixed to the names of saints. It is probable, therefore,\nthat the boy was named after some saint or other, whose title, as well as name, was somewhat\nignorantly appropriated to him.\n\n[FN#4]  i.e. one and all?\n\n[FN#5]  i.e. a foretaste of hell.\n\n[FN#6] Lit. he loaded his sleeve with.\n\n[FN#7]  A mithcal is the same as a dinar, i.e. about ten shillings.\n\n[FN#8]  Masculine.\n\n[FN#9]  He was a noted debauchee, as well as the greatest poet of his day See my \"Book of the\nThousand Nights and One Night,\" Vol. IV. p. 205, and Vol. IX. p. 332.\n\n[FN#10] See ante, Vol. II. p. 240. note.\n\n[FN#11] Princess of the Fair.\n\n[FN#12] i.e. Ye are welcome to.\n\n[FN#13] i.e. the place in which those accused or convicted of crimes of violence were confined.\n\n[FN#14] i.e. a youth slender and flexile as a bough.\n\n[FN#15] i.e. sway gracefully. A swimming gait is the ideal of elegance to the Arab.\n\n[FN#16] An Arab of Medina, proverbial for faithlessness.\n\n[FN#17] Joseph is the Mohammedan prototype of beauty.\n\n[FN#18] For the loss of Joseph. Jacob, in like manner, is the Muslim type of inconsolable grief.\n\n[FN#19] Uncle of the Prophet.\n\n[FN#20] First cousin of the Prophet.\n\n[FN#21] i.e. cut off her head.\n\n[FN#22] When asked, on the Day of Judgment, why he had slain her.\n\n[FN#23] i.e. that some one of the many risings in Khorassan (which was in a chronic state of\nrebellion during Er Reshid's reign) had been put down.\n\n[FN#24] Lit. fry. The custom is to sear the stump by plunging it into boiling oil.\n\n[FN#25] Lit. of those having houses.\n\n[FN#26] i.e. from God in the world to come.\n\n[FN#27] I look to get God's favour in consequence of thy fervent prayers for me.\n\n[FN#28] Provided for ablution.\n\n[FN#29] i.e. if you want a thing done, do it yourself.\n\n[FN#30] i.e. put on the ordinary walking dress of the Eastern lady, which completely hides the\nperson.\n\n[FN#31] This is apparently said in jest; but the Muslim Puritan (such as the strict Wehhabi) is\noften exceedingly punctilious in refusing to eat or use anything that is not sanctified by mention in\nthe Koran or the Traditions of the Prophet, in the same spirit as the old Calvinist Scotchwoman of\npopular tradition, who refused to eat muffins, because they \"warna mentioned in the Bible.\"\n\n[FN#32] i.e. a leader (lit. foreman, antistes) of the people at prayer.\n\n[FN#33] Koran ii. 168.\n\n[FN#34] i.e. I have eaten largely and the food lies heavy on my stomach.\n\n[FN#35] Wine is considered by the Arabs a sovereign digestive. See my \"Book of the Thousand\nNights and One Night,\" Vol. IV. p. 357.\n\n[FN#36] \"The similitude of Paradise, the which is promised unto those who fear [God]. Therein\nare rivers of water incorruptible and rivers of milk, the taste whereof changeth not, and rivers of\nwine, a delight to the drinkers, and rivers of clarified honey.\"--Koran xlvii. 16, 17.\n\n[FN#37] The ox is the Arab type of stupidity, as with us the ass.\n\n[FN#38] Syn. wood (oud).\n\n[FN#39] i.e. my pallor and emaciation testify to the affliction of my heart and the latter bears\nwitness that the external symptoms correctly indicate the internal malady.\n\n[FN#40] Lit. he is [first] the deposit of God, then thy deposit.\n\n[FN#41] Or \"by.\"\n\n[FN#42] See supra, Vol. I. p. 35, note.\n\n[FN#43] i.e. made him Chief of the Police of Baghdad, in place of the former Prefect, whom he\nhad put to death with the rest of Noureddin's oppressors.\n\n[FN#44] For affright.\n\n[FN#45] i.e. religious ceremonies so called. See my \"Book of the Thousand Nights and One\nNight,\" Vol. IX. p. 113, note.\n\n[FN#46] Breslau Text, vol. xii. pp. 116-237, Nights dcccclxvi-dcccclxxix.\n\n[FN#47] i.e. A member of the tribe of Sheiban. No such King of Baghdad (which was not\nfounded till the eighth century) as Ins ben Cais is, I believe, known to history.\n\n[FN#48] The cities and provinces of Bassora and Cufa are generally known as \"The Two Iraks\";\nbut the name is here in all probability used in its wider meaning of Irak Arabi (Chaldaea) and Irak\nFarsi (Persian Irak).\n\n[FN#49] i.e. all those languages the knowledge whereof is necessary to an interpreter or\ndragoman (properly terjeman). Or quaere is the word terjemaniyeh (dragomanish) here a\nmistranscription for turkumaniyeh (Turcoman).\n\n[FN#50] i.e. gilded?\n\n[FN#51] i.e. sperma hominis.\n\n[FN#52] Syn. good breeding.\n\n[FN#53] i.e. those women of equal age and rank with herself.\n\n[FN#54] i.e. vaunting himself of offering richer presents.\n\n[FN#55] Apparently Zebid, the ancient capital of the province of Tehameh in Yemen, a town on\nthe Red Sea, about sixty miles north of Mocha. The copyist of the Tunis MS. appears to have\nwritten the name with the addition of the characteristic desinence (oun) of the nominative case,\nwhich is dropped except in the Koran and in poetry.\n\n[FN#56] Name of the province in which Mecca is situated.\n\n[FN#57] Syn. assembly.\n\n[FN#58] i.e. day and night, to wit, for ever.\n\n[FN#59] Syn. the loftiness of his purpose.\n\n[FN#60] Lit \"I charm thee by invoking the aid of God for thee against evil\" or \"I seek refuge with\nGod for thee.\"\n\n[FN#61] Or \"determinate.\"\n\n[FN#62] Koran xxxiii. 38.\n\n[FN#63] Or \"accomplishments.\"\n\n[FN#64] i.e. to make a pleasure-excursion.\n\n[FN#65] Lit. beset his back.\n\n[FN#66] Lit. in its earth.\n\n[FN#67] The king's own tribe.\n\n[FN#68] i.e. the Arab of the desert or Bedouin (el Aarabi), the nomad.\n\n[FN#69] i.e. the martial instinct.\n\n[FN#70] Lit. \"And he who is oppressed shall become oppressor.\"\n\n[FN#71] i.e. be not ashamed to flee rather than perish in thy youth, if his prowess (attributed to\ndiabolical aid or possession) prove too much for thee.\n\n[FN#72] A periphrastic way of saying, \"I look to God for help.\"\n\n[FN#73] i.e. from the world.\n\n[FN#74] In laughter.\n\n[FN#75] i.e. as he were a flying genie, swooping down upon a mortal from the air, hawk-fashion.\n\n[FN#76] Syn. \"Thou settest out to me a mighty matter.\"\n\n[FN#77] i.e. the castle.\n\n[FN#78] i.e. was eloquent and courtly to the utmost.\n\n[FN#79] i.e. died.\n\n[FN#80] The Arabs use the right hand only in eating.\n\n[FN#81] Name of a quarter of Baghdad.\n\n[FN#82] i.e. he summoneth thee to his presence by way of kindness and not because he is wroth\nwith thee.\n\n[FN#83] i.e. in allowing thee hitherto to remain at a distance from as and not inviting thee to\nattach thyself to our person.\n\n[FN#84] An Arab idiom, meaning \"he showed agitation.\"\n\n[FN#85] Apparently two well-known lovers.\n\n[FN#86] Apparently two well-known lovers.\n\n[FN#87] i.e. the wandering Arabs.\n\n[FN#88] i.e. slain.\n\n[FN#89] \"O ye who believe, seek aid of patience and prayer; verily, God is with the\npatient.\"--Koran ii. 148.\n\n[FN#90] Lit. \"ignorant one\" (jahil).\n\n[FN#91] i.e. Peninsula. Jezireh (sing, of jezair, islands) is constantly used by the Arabs in this\nsense; hence much apparent confusion in topographical passages.\n\n[FN#92] i.e. Mecca and Medina.\n\n[FN#93] i.e. whether on a matter of sport, such as the chase, or a grave matter, such as war, etc.\n\n[FN#94] i.e. the children of his fighting-men whom thou slewest.\n\n[FN#95] Arab fashion of shaking hands. See my \"Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night,\"\nVol. IX p. 171, note.\n\n[FN#96] Lit. a cleft meadow (merj selia). This is probably a mistranscription for merj sselia, a\ntreeless champaign.\n\n[FN#97] i.e. one of the small rooms opening upon the hall of audience at saloon of estate.\n\n[FN#98] So she might hear and see what passed, herself unseen.\n\n[FN#99] Or knowledge of court etiquette.\n\n[FN#100] i.e. richer.\n\n[FN#101] Lit. seen.\n\n[FN#102] Lit. what she did.\n\n[FN#103] i.e. tabooed or unlawful in a religious sense (heram).\n\n[FN#104] i.e. those of El Aziz, who had apparently entered the city or passed through it on their\nway to the camp of El Abbas.\n\n[FN#105] Lit. none of the sons of the road.\n\n[FN#106] i.e. the stars.\n\n[FN#107] i.e. in falsetto?\n\n[FN#108] by thine absence.\n\n[FN#109] Common abbreviation for \"May I be thy ransom!\"\n\n[FN#110] i.e. for love of and longing for.\n\n[FN#111] i.e. leather from Et Taif, a town of the Hejaz, renowned for the manufacture of scented\ngoats' leather.\n\n[FN#112] Or \"suspended in.\"\n\n[FN#113] i.e. violateth my privacy.\n\n[FN#114] i.e. the plaintive song of a nightingale or turtle-dove.\n\n[FN#115] This curious comparison appears to be founded upon the extreme tenuity of the\nparticles of fine dust, so minutely divided as to seem almost fluid.\n\n[FN#116] i.e. he carried it into the convent, hidden under his cloak.\n\n[FN#117] i.e. all the delights of Paradise, as promised to the believer by the Koran.\n\n[FN#118] \"Him\" in the text and so on throughout the piece; but Mariyeh is evidently the person\nalluded to, according to the common practice of Muslim poets of a certain class, who consider it\nindecent openly to mention a woman as an object of love.\n\n[FN#119] i.e. from the witchery of her beauty. See Vol. II. p. 240, note.\n\n[FN#120] Lit \"if thou kohl thyself\" i.e. use them as a cosmetic for the eye.\n\n[FN#121] i.e. we will assume thy debts and responsibilities.\n\n[FN#122] Lit \"behind.\"\n\n[FN#123] i.e. a specially auspicious hour, as ascertained by astrological calculations. Eastern\npeoples have always laid great stress upon the necessity of commencing all important\nundertakings at an (astrologically) favourable time.\n\n[FN#124] Or \"more valuable.\" Red camels are considered better than those of other colours by\nsome of the Arabs.\n\n[FN#125] i.e. couriers mounted on dromedaries, which animals are commonly used for this\npurpose, being (for long distances) swifter and more enduring than horses.\n\n[FN#126] Lit. he sinned against himself.\n\n[FN#127] i.e. in falsetto?\n\n[FN#128] i.e. of gold or rare wood, set with balass rubies.\n\n[FN#129] i.e. whose absence.\n\n[FN#130] i.e. in a throat voice?\n\n[FN#131] Koranic synonym, victual (rihan). See Vol. II. p. 247, note.\n\n[FN#132] Apparently, the apple of the throat.\n\n[FN#133] Apparently, the belly.\n\n[FN#134] Apparently, the bosom.\n\n[FN#135] Cf. Fletcher's well-known song in The Bloody Brother;\n\n     \"Hide, O hide those hills of snow,\n        That thy frozen bosom bears,\n     On Whose Tops the Pinks That Grow\n        Are of those that April wears.\"\n\n[FN#136] i.e. the breasts themselves.\n\n[FN#137] i.e. your languishing beauties are alone present to my mind's eye. A drowsy voluptuous\nair of languishment is considered by the Arabs an especial charm.\n\n[FN#138] Syn. chamberlain (hajib).\n\n[FN#139] Syn. eyebrow (hajib). The usual trifling play of words is of course intended.\n\n[FN#140] Lit. feathers.\n\n[FN#141] Solomon is fabled by the Muslims to have compelled the wind to bear his throne when\nplaced upon his famous magic carpet. See my \"Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night,\"\nVol. V. pp. 235-6.\n\n[FN#142] Qu\u00e6re the teeth.\n\n[FN#143] i.e. the return of our beloved hath enabled us to remove the barriers that stood between\nus and delight.\n\n[FN#144] Singing (as I have before pointed out) is not, in the eyes of the strict Muslim, a\nreputable occupation and it is, therefore, generally the first idea of the \"repentant\" professional\nsongstress or (as in this case) enfranchised slave-girl, who has been wont to entertain her master\nwith the display of her musical talents, to free herself from all signs of her former profession and\nidentify herself as closely as possible with the ordinary \"respectable\" bourgeoise of the harem,\nfrom whom she has been distinguished hitherto by unveiled face and freedom of ingress and\negress; and with this aim in view she would naturally be inclined to exaggerate the rigour of\nMuslim custom, as applied to herself.\n\n[FN#145] Breslau Text, vol. xii. pp. 383-4 (Night mi).\n\n[FN#146] i.e. that of the king, his seven viziers, his son and his favourite, which in the Breslau\nEdition immediately follows the Story of El Abbas and Mariyeh and occupies pp. 237-383 of vol.\nxii. (Nights dcccclxxix-m). It will be found translated in my \"Book of the Thousand Nights and\nOne Night,\" Vol. V. pp. 260-346, under the name of \"The Malice of Women.\"\n\n[FN#147] i.e. those who practise it.\n\n[FN#148] Or \"cause\" (sebeb).\n\n[FN#149] Or \"preservation\" (selameh).\n\n[FN#150] Or \"turpitude, anything that is hateful or vexatious\" (keraheh).\n\n[FN#151] Or \"preservation\" (selameh).\n\n[FN#152] Or \"turpitude, anything that is hateful or vexatious\" (keraheh).\n\n[FN#153] These preliminary words of Shehrzad have no apparent connection with the story that\nimmediately follows and which is only her own told in the third person, and it is difficult to\nunderstand why they should be here introduced. The author may have intended to connect them\nwith the story by means of a further development of the latter and with the characteristic\ncarelessness of the Eastern story-teller, forgotten or neglected to carry out his intention; or, again,\nit is possible that the words in question may have been intended as an introduction to the Story of\nthe Favourite and her Lover (see post, p. 165), to which they seem more suitable, and have been\nmisplaced by an error of transcription. In any case, the text is probably (as usual) corrupt.\n\n[FN#154] Breslau Text, vol. xii. pp. 384-394.\n\n[FN#155] The kingdom of the elder brother is afterwards referred to as situate in China. See post,\np. 150.\n\n[FN#156] Tubba was the dynastic title of the ancient Himyerite Kings of Yemen, even as\nChosro\u00ebs and C\u00e6sar of the Kings of Persia and the Emperors of Constantinople respectively.\n\n[FN#157] i.e. a king similar in magnificence and dominion to the monarchs of the three dynasties\naforesaid, whose names are in Arab literature synonyms for regal greatness.\n\n[FN#158] i.e. his rage was ungovernable, so that none dared approach him in his heat of passion.\n\n[FN#159] i.e. maidens cloistered or concealed behind curtains and veiled in the harem.\n\n[FN#160] i.e. those whose business it is to compose or compile stories, verses, etc., for the\nentertainment of kings and grandees.\n\n[FN#161] i.e. that his new and damnable custom. The literal meaning of bidah is \"an innovation\nor invention, anything new;\" but the word is commonly used in the sense of \"heresy\" or\n\"heterodox innovation,\" anything new being naturally heretical in the eyes of the orthodox\nreligionist.\n\n[FN#162] i.e. women.\n\n[FN#163] Breslau Text, vol. xii. pp. 394-398.\n\n[FN#164] i.e. his apathy or indifference to the principles of right and wrong and the consequences\nof his wicked behaviour.\n\n[FN#165] i.e. in a state of reprobation, having incurred the wrath of God.\n\n[FN#166] hath mentioned the office of vizier.\n\n[FN#167] Koran xx. 30.\n\n[FN#168] i.e. none had been better qualified to dispense with a vizier than he.\n\n[FN#169] i.e. the essential qualification.\n\n[FN#170] The word jeish (troops) is here apparently used in the sense at officials, ministers of\ngovernment.\n\n[FN#171] Or \"rectification.\"\n\n[FN#172] Koran xxxiii. 35.\n\n[FN#173] i.e. I know not which to choose of the superabundant material at my command in the\nway of instances of women's craft.\n\n[FN#174] Breslau Text, vol xii. pp. 398-402.\n\n[FN#175] i.e. incensed with the smoke of burning musk. It is a common practice in the East to\nfumigate drinking-vessels with the fragrant smoke of aloes-wood and other perfumes, for the\npurpose of giving a pleasant flavour to the water, etc., drunk from them.\n\n[FN#176] Huneini foucaniyeh. Foucaniyeh means \"upper\" (fem.); but the meaning of huneini is\nunknown to me.\n\n[FN#177] Heriseh. See supra, Vol. II. p. 26, note 4.\n\n[FN#178] The Arabs distinguish three kinds of honey, i.e. bees' honey, cane honey (treacle or\nsyrup of sugar) and drip-honey (date-syrup).\n\n[FN#179] i.e. yet arrive in time for the rendezvous.\n\n[FN#180] Breslau Text, pp. 402-412.\n\n[FN#181] i.e. on an island between two branches of the Nile.\n\n[FN#182] It is not plain what Khalif is here meant, though it is evident, from the context, that an\nEgyptian prince is referred to, unless the story is told of the Abbaside Khalif El Mamoun, son of\nEr Reshid (A.D. 813-33), during his temporary residence in Egypt, which he is said to have\nvisited. This is, however, unlikely, as his character was the reverse of sanguinary; besides, El\nMamoun was not his name, but his title (Aboulabbas Abdallah El Mamoun Billah). Two Khalifs of\nEgypt assumed the title of El Hakim bi Amrillah (He who rules or decrees by or in accordance\nwith the commandment of God), i.e. the Fatimite Abou Ali El Mensour (A.D. 995-1021), and the\nfaineant Abbaside Aboulabbas Ahmed (A.D. 1261-1301); but neither of these was named El\nMamoun. It is probable, however, that the first named is the prince referred to in the story, the\nlatter having neither the power nor the inclination for such wholesale massacres as that described\nin the text, which are perfectly in character with the brutal and fantastic nature of the founder of\nthe Druse religion.\n\n[FN#183] i.e. the well-known island of that name (The Garden).\n\n[FN#184] i.e. \"whatever may betide\" or \"will I, nill I\"?\n\n[FN#185] Lit. she was cut off or cut herself off.\n\n[FN#186] Lit. \"The convent of Clay.\"\n\n[FN#187] i.e. this is the time to approve thyself a man.\n\n[FN#188] To keep her afloat.\n\n[FN#189] Lit \"Thou art the friend who is found (or present) (or the vicissitudes of Time (or\nFortune).\"\n\n[FN#190] i.e. the officer whose duty it is to search out the estates of intestates and lay hands upon\nsuch property as escheats to the Crown for want of heirs.\n\n[FN#191] i.e. Sumatran.\n\n[FN#192] i.e. Alexander.\n\n[FN#193] i.e. the blackness of the hair.\n\n[FN#194] The ingenuity of the bride's attendants, on the occasion of a wedding, is strained to the\nutmost to vary her attire and the manner in which the hair is dressed on the occasion of her being\ndisplayed to her husband, and one favourite trick consists in fastening her tresses about her chin\nand cheeks, so as to produce a sort of imitation of beard and whiskers.\n\n[FN#195] Literal.\n\n[FN#196] i.e. God only knows if it be true or not.\n\n[FN#197] Or rather appended to. The Voyages of Sindbad the Sailor form no part of the scheme\nof Nights in this edition, but are divided into \"Voyages\" only and form a sort of appendix,\nfollowing the Two hundredth Night. See my \"Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night,\" Vol.\nIX. pp. 307-8.\n\n[FN#198] See my \"Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night,\" Vol. V. pp. 202 and 210.\n\n[FN#199] i.e. the porter and the other guests.\n\n[FN#200] i.e. a mountainous island.\n\n[FN#201] Kherabeh, lit. a hole. Syn. ruin or destruction.\n\n[FN#202] i.e. an outlying spur or reef.\n\n[FN#203] Syn. perilous place.\n\n[FN#204] Lit. their guide was disappointed.\n\n[FN#205] i.e. means (hileh) of sustaining life.\n\n[FN#206] i.e. death.\n\n[FN#207] i.e. Ceylon.\n\n[FN#208] Audiyeh (plural of wadi, a valley). The use of the word in this sense points to an\nAfrican origin of this version of the story. The Moors of Africa and Spain commonly called a river\n\"a valley,\" by a natural figure of metonymy substituting the container for the contained; e.g.\nGuadalquiver (Wadi el Kebir, the Great River), Guadiana, etc.\n\n[FN#209] i.e. after the usual compliments, the letter proceeded thus.\n\n[FN#210] i.e. we are thine allies in peace and war, for offence and defence. Those whom thou\nlovest we love, and those whom thou hatest we hate.\n\n[FN#211] About seventy-two grains.\n\n[FN#212] Or public appearance.\n\n[FN#213] Solomon was the dynastic name of the kings of the prae-Adamite Jinn and is here used\nin a generic sense, as Chosroes for the ancient Kings of Persia, Caesar for the Emperors of\nConstantinople, Tubba for the Himyerite Kings of Yemen, etc., etc.\n\n[FN#214] i.e. Maharajah.\n\n[FN#215] Or \"government.\"\n\n[FN#216] Every Muslim is bound by law to give alms to the extent of two and half per cent. of\nhis property.\n\n[FN#217] In North-east Persia.\n\n[FN#218] Alleged to have been found by the Arab conquerors of Spain on the occasion of the\nsack of Toledo and presented by them to the Ommiade Khalif El Welid ben Abdulmelik (A.D.\n705-716). See my \"Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night,\" Vol. III. p. 331.\n\n[FN#219] i.e. such as are fit to be sent from king to king.\n\n[FN#220] i.e, the price of his victual and other necessaries for the voyage.\n\n[FN#221] Lit. riding-beast (French monture, no exact English equivalent), whether camel, mule\nor horse does not appear.\n\n[FN#222] The Envier and the Envied.\n\n[FN#223] After the manner of Orientalists, a far more irritable folk than any poets.\n\n[FN#224] By the by, apropos of this soi-disant complete translation of the great Arabian\ncollection of romantic fiction, it is difficult to understand how an Orientalist of repute, such as Dr.\nHabicht, can have put forth publication of this kind, which so swarms with blunders of every\ndescription as to throw the mistakes of all other translators completely into the shade and to\nrender it utterly useless to the Arabic scholar as a book of reference. We can only conjecture that\nhe must have left the main portion of the work to be executed, without efficient supervision, by\nincapable collaborators or that he undertook and executed the translation in such haste as to\npreclude the possibility of any preliminary examination and revision, worthy of the name, of the\noriginal MS.; and this latter supposition appears to be borne out by the fact that the translation\nwas entirely published before the appearance of any portion of the Arabic Text, as printed from\nthe Tunis Manuscript. Whilst on the subject of German translations, it may be well to correct an\nidea, which appears to prevail among non-Arabic scholars, to the effect that complete translations\nof the Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night exist in the language of Hoffmann and Heine,\nand which is (as far, at least, as my own knowledge extends) a completely erroneous one. I have,\nI believe, examined all the German translations in existence and have found not one of them\nworthy of serious consideration; the best, that of Hammer-Purgstall, to which I had looked for\nhelp in the elucidation of doubtful and corrupt passages, being so loose and unfaithful, so\ndisfigured by ruthless retrenchments and abridgments, no less than by gross errors of all kinds,\nthat I found myself compelled to lay it aside as useless. It is but fair, however, to the memory of\nthe celebrated Austrian Orientalist, to state that the only form in which Von Hammer's translation\nis procurable is that of the German rendering of Prof. Zinserling (1823-4), executed from the\noriginal (French) manuscript, which latter was unfortunately lost before publication.\n\n[FN#225] The Boulac Edition omits this story altogether.\n\n[FN#226] Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac 134b. \"The Merchant's Wife and the Parrot.\"\n\n[FN#227] This will be found translated in my \"Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night,\"\nVol. VII. p. 307, as an Appendix to the Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac version of the story, from\nwhich it differs in detail.\n\n[FN#228] Called \"Bekhit\" in Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac Editions.\n\n[FN#229] Yehya ben Khalid (Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac).\n\n[FN#230] \"Shar\" (Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac).\n\n[FN#231] \"Jelyaad\" (Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac).\n\n[FN#232] Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac, No. 63. See my \"Book of the Thousand Nights and\nOne Night,\" Vol. IV. p. 211.\n\n[FN#233] Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac, \"Jaafer the Barmecide.\"\n\n[FN#234] Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac, \"The Thief turned Merchant and the other Thief,\" No.\n88.\n\n[FN#235] This story will be found translated in my \"Book at the Thousand Nights and One\nNight,' Vol. V. p. 345.\n\n[FN#236] The Third Old Man's Story is wanting.\n\n[FN#237] The Story of the Portress is wanting.\n\n[FN#238] Calcutta (1839-42), Boulac and Breslan, \"The Controller's Story.\"\n\n[FN#239] Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac, \"Sindbad the Sailor and Sindbad the Porter.\"\n\n[FN#240] Tuhfeh.","title":"Tales from the Arabic \u2014 Complete","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":217486}