{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_8655/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_8655","id":"gutenberg_8655","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/8655","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Classics of Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Fairy tales","Tales -- Arab countries"],"text":"Produced by JC Byers, Janelle Maiu, Coralee Sheehan, and Cameron Fruit\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n         THE BOOK OF THE THOUSAND NIGHTS AND ONE NIGHT:\n\n             Now First Completely Done Into English\n           Prose and Verse, From The Original Arabic,\n\n                         By John Payne\n(Author of \"The Masque of Shadows,\" \"Intaglios: Sonnets,\" \"Songs\n                      of Life and Death,\"\n \"Lautrec,\" \"The Poems of Master Francis Villon of Paris,\" \"New\n                      Poems,\" Etc, Etc.).\n\n                        In Nine Volumes:\n\n\n\n                       VOLUME THE FIRST.\n\n\n\n                             London\n                  Printed For Subscribers Only\n\n                              1901\n\n                         Delhi Edition\n\n\n                 Contents of The First Volume.\n\nIntroduction.  Story of King Shehriyar and his Brother\n     a.   Story of the Ox and the Ass\n1.   The Merchant and the Genie\n     a.   The First Old Man's Story\n     b.   The Second Old Man's Story\n     c.   The Third Old Man's Story\n2.   The Fisherman and the Genie\n     a.   Story of The Physician Douban\n          ab.  Story of King Sindbad and his Falcon\n          ac.  Story of The King's Son and the Ogress\n     b.   Story of the Enchanted Youth\n3.   The Porter and the Three Ladies of Baghdad\n     a.   The First Calender's Story\n     b.   The Second Calender's Story\n          ba.  Story of the Envier and the Envied\n     c.   The Third Calender's Story\n     d.   The Eldest Lady's Story\n     e.   The Story of the Portress\n4.   The Three Apples\n5.   Noureddin Ali of Cairo and His Son Bedreddin Hassan\n6.   Story of the Hunchback\n     a.   The Christian Broker's Story\n     b.   The Controller's Story\n     c.   The Jewish Physician's Story\n     d.   The Tailor's Story\n     e.   The Barber's Story\n          ea.  Story of the Barber's First Brother\n          eb.  Story of the Barber's Second Brother\n          ec.  Story of the Barber's Third Brother\n          ed.  Story of the Barber's Fourth Brother\n          ee.  Story of the Barber's Fifth Brother\n          ef.  Story of the Barber's Sixth Brother\n7.   Noureddin Ali and the Damsel Enis El Jelis\n8.   Ghanim Ben Eyoub the Slave of Love\n     a.   Story of the Eunuch Bekhit\n     b.   Story of the Eunich Kafour\n\n\n\n\n                        PREFATORY NOTE.\n\n\n\nThe present is, I believe, the first complete translation of the\ngreat Arabic compendium of romantic fiction that has been\nattempted in any European language comprising about four times as\nmuch matter as that of Galland and three times as much as that of\nany other translator known to myself; and a short statement of\nthe sources from which it is derived may therefore be acceptable\nto my readers. Three printed editions, more or less complete,\nexist of the Arabic text of the Thousand and One Nights; namely,\nthose of Breslau, Boulac (Cairo) and Calcutta (1839), besides an\nincomplete one, comprising the first two hundred nights only,\npublished at Calcutta in 1814. Of these, the first is horribly\ncorrupt and greatly inferior, both in style and completeness, to\nthe others, and the second (that of Boulac) is also, though in a\nfar less degree, incomplete, whole stories (as, for instance,\nthat of the Envier and the Envied in the present volume) being\nomitted and hiatuses, varying in extent from a few lines to\nseveral pages, being of frequent occurrence, whilst in addition\nto these defects, the editor, a learned Egyptian, has played\nhavoc with the style of his original, in an ill-judged attempt to\nimprove it, producing a medley, more curious than edifying, of\nclassical and semi-modern diction and now and then, in his\nunlucky zeal, completely disguising the pristine meaning of\ncertain passages. The third edition, that which we owe to Sir\nWilliam Macnaghten and which appears to have been printed from a\nsuperior copy of the manuscript followed by the Egyptian editor,\nis by far the most carefully printed and edited of the three and\noffers, on the whole, the least corrupt and most comprehensive\ntext of the work. I have therefore adopted it as my standard or\nbasis of translation and have, to the best of my power, remedied\nthe defects (such as hiatuses, misprints, doubtful or corrupt\npassages, etc.) which are of no infrequent occurrence even in\nthis, the best of the existing texts, by carefully collating it\nwith the editions of Boulac and Breslau (to say nothing of\noccasional references to the earlier Calcutta edition of the\nfirst two hundred nights), adopting from one and the other such\nvariants, additions and corrections as seemed to me best\ncalculated to improve the general effect and most homogeneous\nwith the general spirit of the work, and this so freely that the\npresent version may be said, in great part, to represent a\nvariorum text of the original, formed by a collation of the\ndifferent printed texts; and no proper estimate can, therefore,\nbe made of the fidelity of the translation, except by those who\nare intimately acquainted with the whole of these latter. Even\nwith the help of the new lights gained by the laborious process\nof collation and comparison above mentioned, the exact sense of\nmany passages must still remain doubtful, so corrupt are the\nextant texts and so incomplete our knowledge, as incorporated in\ndictionaries, etc, of the peculiar dialect, half classical and\nhalf modern, in which the original work is written.\n\nOne special feature of the present version is the appearance,\nfor the first time, in English metrical shape, preserving the\nexternal form and rhyme movement of the originals, of the\nwhole of the poetry with which the Arabic text is so freely\ninterspersed. This great body of verse, equivalent to at least\nten thousand twelve-syllable English lines, is of the most\nunequal quality, varying from poetry worthy of the name to the\nmerest doggrel, and as I have, in pursuance of my original scheme,\nelected to translate everything, good and bad (with a very few\nexceptions in cases of manifest mistake or misapplication), I can\nonly hope that my readers will, in judging of my success, take\ninto consideration the enormous difficulties with which I have\nhad to contend and look with indulgence upon my efforts to render,\nunder unusually irksome conditions, the energy and beauty of the\noriginal, where these qualities exist, and in their absence, to\nkeep my version from degenerating into absolute doggrel.\n\nThe present translation being intended as a purely literary\nwork produced with the sole object of supplying the general\nbody of cultivated readers with a fairly representative and\ncharacteristic version of the most famous work of narrative\nfiction in existence, I have deemed it advisable to depart, in\nseveral particulars, from the various systems of transliteration\nof Oriental proper names followed by modern scholars, as,\nalthough doubtless admirably adapted to works having a scientific\nor non-literary object, they rest mainly upon devices (such as\nthe use of apostrophes, accents, diacritical points and the\nemployment of both vowels and consonants in unusual groups and\nsenses) foreign to the genius of the English language and\ncalculated only to annoy the reader of a work of imagination. Of\nthese points of departure from established usage I need only\nparticularize some of the more important; the others will, in\ngeneral, be found to speak for themselves. One of the most salient\nis the case of the short vowel fet-heh, which is usually written\n[a breve], but which I have thought it better to render, as a\nrule, by [e breve], as in \"bed\" (a sound practically equivalent\nto that of a, as in \"beggar,\" adopted by the late Mr. Lane to\nrepresent this vowel), reserving the English a, as in \"father,\"\nto represent the alif of prolongation or long Arabic a, since I\nshould else have no means of differentiating the latter from the\nformer, save by the use of accents or other clumsy expedients, at\nonce, to my mind, foreign to the purpose and vexatious to the\nreader of a work of pure literature. In like manner, I have\neschewed the use of the letter q, as an equivalent for the dotted\nor guttural kaf (choosing to run the risk of occasionally\nmisleading the reader as to the original Arabic form of a word\nby leaving him in ignorance whether the k used is the dotted\nor undotted one,--a point of no importance whatever to the\nnon-scientific public,--rather than employ an English letter in a\nmanner completely unwarranted by the construction of our\nlanguage, in which q has no power as a terminal or as moved by\nany vowel other than u, followed by one of the four others) and\nhave supplied its place, where the dotted kaf occurs as a\nterminal or as preceding a hard vowel, by the hard c, leaving k\nto represent it (in common with the undotted kaf generally) in\nthose instances where it is followed by a soft vowel. For\nsimilar reasons, I have not attempted to render the Arabic\nquasi-consonant a\u00efn, save by the English vowel corresponding to\nthat by which it is moved, preferring to leave the guttural\nelement of its sound (for which we have no approach to an\nequivalent in English) unrepresented, rather than resort to the\nbarbarous and meaningless device of the apostrophe. Again, the\nprinciple, in accordance with which I have rendered the proper\nnames of the original, is briefly (and subject to certain\nvariations on the ground of convenience and literary fitness) to\npreserve unaltered such names as Tigris, Bassora, Cairo, Aleppo,\nDamascus, etc., which are familiar to us otherwise than by the\nArabian Nights and to alter which, for the sake of mere\nliterality, were as gratuitous a piece of pedantry as to insist\nupon writing Copenhagen Kjobenhavn, or Canton Kouang-tong, and to\ntransliterate the rest as nearly as may consist with a due regard\nto artistic considerations. The use of untranslated Arabic words,\nother than proper names, I have, as far as possible, avoided,\nrendering them, with very few exceptions, by the best English\nequivalents in my power, careful rather to give the general\nsense, where capable of being conveyed by reasonable substitution\nof idiom or otherwise, than to retain the strict letter at the\nexpense of the spirit; nor, on the other hand, have I thought it\nnecessary to alter the traditional manner of spelling certain\nwords which have become incorporated with our language, where\n(as in the case of the words genie, houri, roe, khalif, vizier,\ncadi, Bedouin, etc. etc.) the English equivalent is fairly\nrepresentative of the original Arabic.\n\nI have to return my cordial thanks to Captain Richard F. Burton,\nthe well-known traveller and author, who has most kindly\nundertaken to give me the benefit of his great practical\nknowledge of the language and customs of the Arabs in revising\nthe manuscript of my translation for the press.\n\n\n\n\n                THE BOOK OF THE THOUSAND NIGHTS\n                         AND ONE NIGHT\n\n\n\nIn the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful! Praise be to\nGod, the Lord of the two worlds,[FN#1] and blessing and peace\nupon the Prince of the Prophets, our lord and master Mohammed,\nwhom God bless and preserve with abiding and continuing peace and\nblessing until the Day of the Faith! Of a verity, the doings of\nthe ancients become a lesson to those that follow after, so that\nmen look upon the admonitory events that have happened to others\nand take warning, and come to the knowledge of what befell bygone\npeoples and are restrained thereby. So glory be to Him who hath\nappointed the things that have been done aforetime for an example\nto those that come after! And of these admonitory instances are\nthe histories called the Thousand Nights and One Night, with all\ntheir store of illustrious fables and relations.\n\n\nIt is recorded in the chronicles of the things that have been\ndone of time past that there lived once, in the olden days and in\nbygone ages and times, a king of the kings of the sons of Sasan,\nwho reigned over the Islands[FN#2] of India and China and was\nlord of armies and guards and servants and retainers. He had two\nsons, an elder and a younger, who were both valiant cavaliers,\nbut the elder was a stouter horseman than the younger. When their\nfather died, he left his empire to his elder son, whose name was\nShehriyar, and he took the government and ruled his subjects\njustly, so that the people of the country and of the empire loved\nhim well, whilst his brother Shahzeman became King of Samarcand\nof Tartary. The two kings abode each in his own dominions, ruling\njustly over their subjects and enjoying the utmost prosperity and\nhappiness, for the space of twenty years, at the end of which\ntime the elder king yearned after his brother and commanded his\nVizier to repair to the latter's court and bring him to his own\ncapital. The Vizier replied, \"I hear and obey,\" and set out at\nonce and journeyed till he reached King Shahzeman's court in\nsafety, when he saluted him for his brother and informed him that\nthe latter yearned after him and desired that he would pay him a\nvisit, to which King Shahzeman consented gladly and made ready\nfor the journey and appointed his Vizier to rule the country in\nhis stead during his absence. Then he caused his tents and camels\nand mules to be brought forth and encamped, with his guards and\nattendants, without the city, in readiness to set out next\nmorning for his brother's kingdom. In the middle of the night,\nit chanced that he bethought him of somewhat he had forgotten\nin his palace; so he returned thither privily and entered his\napartments, where he found his wife asleep in his own bed, in the\narms of one of his black slaves. When he saw this, the world grew\nblack in his sight, and he said to himself, \"If this is what\nhappens whilst I am yet under the city walls, what will be\nthe condition of this accursed woman during my absence at my\nbrother's court?\" Then he drew his sword and smote the twain and\nslew them and left them in the bed and returned presently to his\ncamp, without telling any one what had happened. Then he gave\norders for immediate departure and set out a'once and travelled\ntill he drew near his brother's capital when he despatched\nvaunt-couriers to announce his approach. His brother came forth\nto meet him and saluted him and rejoiced exceedingly and caused\nthe city to be decorated in his honour. Then he sat down with him\nto converse and make merry; but King Shahzeman could not forget\nthe perfidy of his wife and grief grew on him more and more and\nhis colour changed and his body became weak. Shehriyar saw his\ncondition, but attributed it to his separation from his country\nand his kingdom, so let him alone and asked no questions of him,\ntill one day he said to him, \"O my brother, I see that thou art\ngrown weak of body and hast lost thy colour.\" And Shahzeman\nanswered, \"O my brother, I have an internal wound,\" but did not\ntell him about his wife. Said Shehriyar, \"I wish thou wouldst\nride forth with me a-hunting; maybe it would lighten thy heart.\"\nBut Shahzeman refused; so his brother went out to hunt without\nhim. Now there were in King Shahzeman's apartments lattice-windows\noverlooking his brother's garden, and as the former\nwas sitting looking on the garden, behold a gate of the\npalace opened, and out came twenty damsels and twenty black\nslaves, and among them his brother's wife, who was wonderfully\nfair and beautiful. They all came up to a fountain, where the\ngirls and slaves took off their clothes and sat down together.\nThen the queen called out, \"O Mesoud!\" And there came to her a\nblack slave, who embraced her and she him. Then he lay with her,\nand on likewise did the other slaves with the girls. And they\nceased not from kissing and clipping and cricketing and carousing\nuntil the day began to wane. When the King of Tartary saw this,\nhe said to himself, \"By Allah, my mischance was lighter than\nthis!\" And his grief and chagrin relaxed from him and he said,\n\"This is more grievous than what happened to me!\" So he put away\nhis melancholy and ate and drank. Presently, his brother came\nback from hunting and they saluted each other: and Shehriyar\nlooked at Shahzeman and saw that his colour had returned and his\nface was rosy and he ate heartily, whereas before he ate but\nlittle. So he said to him, \"O my brother, when I last saw thee,\nthou wast pale and wan, and now I see that the colour has\nreturned to thy face. Tell me how it is with thee.\" Quoth\nShahzeman, \"I will tell thee what caused my loss of colour, but\nexcuse me from acquainting thee with the cause of its return to\nme.\" Said Shehriyar, \"Let me hear first what was the cause of thy\npallor and weakness.\" \"Know then, O my brother,\" rejoined\nShahzeman, \"that when thou sentest thy vizier to bid me to thee,\nI made ready for the journey and had actually quitted my capital\ncity, when I remembered that I had left behind me a certain\njewel, that which I gave thee. So I returned to my palace, where\nI found my wife asleep in my bed, in the arms of a black slave. I\nslew them both and came to thee; and it was for brooding over\nthis affair, that I lost my colour and became weak. But forgive\nme if I tell thee not the cause of my restoration to health.\"\nWhen his brother heard this, he said to him, \"I conjure thee by\nAllah, tell me the reason of thy recovery!\" So he told him all\nthat he had seen, and Shehriyar said, \"I must see this with my\nown eyes.\" \"Then,\" replied Shahzeman, \"feign to go forth to hunt\nand hide thyself in my lodging and thou shalt see all this and\nhave ocular proof of the truth.\" So Shehriyar ordered his\nattendants to prepare to set out at once; whereupon the troops\nencamped without the city and he himself went forth with them and\nsat in his pavilion, bidding his servants admit no one. Then he\ndisguised himself and returned secretly to King Shahzeman's\npalace and sat with him at the lattice overlooking the garden,\nuntil the damsels and their mistress came out with the slaves and\ndid as his brother had reported, till the call to afternoon\nprayer. When King Shehriyar saw this, he was as one distraught\nand said to his brother, \"Arise, let us depart hence, for we have\nno concern with kingship, and wander till we find one to whom the\nlike has happened as to us, else our death were better than\nour life.\" Then they went out by a postern of the palace and\njourneyed days and nights till they came to a tree standing in\nthe midst of a meadow, by a spring of water, on the shore of the\nsalt sea, and they drank of the stream and sat down by it to\nrest. When the day was somewhat spent, behold, the sea became\ntroubled and there rose from it a black column that ascended to\nthe sky and made towards the meadow. When the princes saw this,\nthey were afraid and climbed up to the top of the tree, which was\na high one, that they might see what was the matter; and behold,\nit was a genie of lofty stature, broad-browed and wide-cheated,\nbearing on his head a coffer of glass with seven locks of steel.\nHe landed and sat down under the tree, where he set down the\ncoffer, and opening it, took out a smaller one. This also he\nopened, and there came forth a damsel slender of form and\ndazzlingly beautiful, as she were a shining sun, as says the poet\nUteyeh:\n\nShe shines out in the dusk, and lo! the day is here, And all the\n     trees flower forth with blossoms bright and clear,\nThe sun from out her brows arises, and the moon, When she unveils\n     her face, cloth hide for shame and fear.\nAll living things prostrate themselves before her feet, When she\n     unshrouds and all her hidden charms appear;\nAnd when she flashes forth the lightnings of her glance, She\n     maketh eyes to rain, like showers, with many a tear.\n\nWhen the genie saw her, he said to her, \"O queen of noble ladies,\nthou whom indeed I stole away on thy wedding night, I have a mind\nto sleep awhile.\" And he laid his head on her knees and fell\nasleep. Presently the lady raised her eyes to the tree and saw\nthe two kings among the branches; so she lifted the genie's head\nfrom her lap and laid it on the ground, then rose and stood\nbeneath the tree and signed to them to descend, without heeding\nthe Afrit.[FN#3] They answered her, in the same manner, \"God on\nthee [FN#4] excuse us from this.\" But she rejoined by signs, as\nwho should say, \"If you do not come down, I will wake the Afrit\non you, and he will kill you without mercy.\" So they were afraid\nand came down to her, whereupon she came up to them and offered\nthem her favours, saying, \"To it, both of you, and lustily; or I\nwill set the Afrit on you.\" So for fear of him, King Shehriyar\nsaid to his brother Shahzeman, \"O brother, do as she bids thee.\"\nBut he replied, \"Not I; do thou have at her first.\" And they made\nsigns to each other to pass first, till she said, \"Why do I see\nyou make signs to each other? An you come not forward and fall\nto, I will rouse the Afrit on you.\" So for fear of the genie,\nthey lay with her one after the other, and when they had done,\nshe bade them arise, and took out of her bosom a purse containing\na necklace made of five hundred and seventy rings, and said to\nthem, \"Know ye what these are?\" They answered, \"No.\" And she\nsaid, \"Every one of the owners of these rings has had to do with\nme in despite of this Afrit. And now give me your rings, both of\nyou.\" So each of them took off a ring and gave it to her. And she\nsaid to them, \"Know that this genie carried me off on my wedding\nnight and laid me in a box and shut the box up in a glass chest,\non which he clapped seven strong locks and sank it to the bottom\nof the roaring stormy sea, knowing not that nothing can hinder a\nwoman, when she desires aught, even as says one of the poets:\n\nI rede thee put no Faith in womankind, Nor trust the oaths they\n     lavish all in vain:\nFor on the satisfaction of their lusts Depend alike their love\n     and their disdain.\nThey proffer lying love, but perfidy Is all indeed their garments\n     do contain.\nTake warning, then, by Joseph's history, And how a woman sought\n     to do him bane;\nAnd eke thy father Adam, by their fault To leave the groves of\n     Paradise was fain.\n\nOr as another says:\n\nOut on yon! blame confirms the blamed one in his way. My fault is\n     not so great indeed as you would say.\nIf I'm in love, forsooth, my case is but the same As that of\n     other men before me, many a day.\nFor great the wonder were if any man alive From women and their\n     wiles escape unharmed away!\"\n\nWhen the two kings heard this, they marvelled and said, \"Allah!\nAllah! There is no power and no virtue save in God the Most High,\nthe Supreme! We seek aid of God against the malice of women, for\nindeed their craft is great!\" Then she said to them, \"Go your\nways.\" So they returned to the road, and Shehriyar said to\nShahzeman, \"By Allah, O my brother, this Afrit's case is more\ngrievous than ours. For this is a genie and stole away his\nmistress on her wedding night and clapped her in a chest, which\nhe locked with seven locks and sank in the midst of the sea,\nthinking to guard her from that which was decreed by fate, yet\nhave we seen that she has lain with five hundred and seventy men\nin his despite, and now with thee and me to boot. Verily, this is\na thing that never yet happened to any, and it should surely\nconsole us. Let us therefore return to our kingdoms and resolve\nnever again to take a woman to wife; and as for me, I will show\nthee what I will do.\" So they set out at once and presently came\nto the camp outside Shehriyar's capital and, entering the royal\npavilion, sat down on their bed of estate. Then the chamberlains\nand amirs and grandees came in to them and Shehriyar commanded\nthem to return to the city. So they returned to the city and\nShehriyar went up to his palace, where he summoned his Vizier and\nbade him forthwith put his wife to death. The Vizier accordingly\ntook the queen and killed her, whilst Shehriyar, going into the\nslave girls and concubines, drew his sword and slew them all.\nThen he let bring others in their stead and took an oath that\nevery night he would go in to a maid and in the morning put her\nto death, for that there was not one chaste woman on the face of\nthe earth. As for Shahzeman, he sought to return to his kingdom\nat once; so his brother equipped him for the journey and he set\nout and fared on till he came to his own dominions. Meanwhile,\nKing Shehriyar commanded his Vizier to bring him the bride of the\nnight, that he might go in to her; so he brought him one of the\ndaughters of the amirs and he went in to her, and on the morrow\nhe bade the Vizier cut off her head. The Vizier dared not disobey\nthe King's commandment, so he put her to death and brought him\nanother girl, of the daughters of the notables of the land. The\nKing went in to her also, and on the morrow he bade the Vizier\nkill her; and he ceased not to do thus for three years, till the\nland was stripped of marriageable girls, and all the women and\nmothers and fathers wept and cried out against the King, cursing\nhim and complaining to the Creator of heaven and earth and\ncalling for succour upon Him who heareth prayer and answereth\nthose that cry to Him; and those that had daughters left fled\nwith them, till at last there remained not a single girl in the\ncity apt for marriage. One day the King ordered the Vizier to\nbring him a maid as of wont; so the Vizier went out and made\nsearch for a girl, but found not one and returned home troubled\nand careful for fear of the king's anger. Now this Vizier had two\ndaughters, the elder called Shehrzad and the younger Dunyazad,\nand the former had read many books and histories and chronicles\nof ancient kings and stories of people of old time; it is said\nindeed that she had collected a thousand books of chronicles of\npast peoples and bygone kings and poets. Moreover, she had read\nbooks of science and medicine; her memory was stored with verses\nand stories and folk-lore and the sayings of kings and sages, and\nshe was wise, witty, prudent and well-bred. She said to her\nfather, \"How comes it that I see thee troubled and oppressed with\ncare and anxiety? Quoth one of the poets:\n\n'Tell him that is of care oppressed, That grief shall not endure\n     alway,\nBut even as gladness fleeteth by, So sorrow too shall pass\n     away.'\"\n\nWhen the Vizier heard his daughter's words, he told her his case,\nand she said, \"By Allah, O my father, marry me to this king, for\neither I will be the means of the deliverance of the daughters of\nthe Muslims from slaughter or I will die and perish as others\nhave perished.\" \"For God's sake,\" answered the Vizier, \"do not\nthus adventure thy life!\" But she said, \"It must be so.\"\nWhereupon her father was wroth with her and said to her, \"Fool\nthat thou art, dost thou not know that the ignorant man who\nmeddles in affairs falls into grievous peril, and that he who\nlooks not to the issue of his actions finds no friend in time of\nevil fortune? As says the byword, 'I was sitting at my ease, but\nmy officiousness would not let me rest.' And I fear lest there\nhappen to thee what happened to the ox and the ass with the\nhusbandman.\" \"And what happened to them?\" asked she. Quoth the\nVizier, \"Know, O my daughter, that\n\n\n\n\n               Story of the Ox[FN#5] and the Ass\n\n\n\nThere was once a merchant who was rich in goods and cattle, and\nhe had a wife and children and dwelt in the country and was\nskilled in husbandry. Now God had gifted him to understand the\nspeech of beasts and birds of every kind, but under pain of death\nif he divulged his gift to any one; so he kept it secret for fear\nof death. He had in his byre an ox and an ass, each tied up in\nhis stall, hard by the other. One day, as the merchant was\nsitting near at hand, he heard the ox say to the ass, 'I give\nthee joy, O Father Wakeful![FN#6] Thou enjoyest rest and\nattention and they keep thy stall always swept and sprinkled, and\nthine eating is sifted barley and thy drink fresh water, whilst I\nam always weary, for they take me in the middle of the night and\ngird the yoke on my neck and set me to plough and I toil without\nceasing from break of morn till sunset. I am forced to work more\nthan my strength and suffer all kinds of indignities, such as\nblows and abuse, from the cruel ploughman; and I return home at\nthe end of the day, and indeed my sides are torn and my neck is\nflayed. Then they shut me up in the cow-house and throw me beans\nand straw mixed with earth and husks, and I lie all night in dung\nand stale. But thy place is always swept and sprinkled and thy\nmanger clean and full of sweet hay and thou art always resting,\nexcept that, now and then, our master hath occasion to ride thee\nand returns speedily with thee; and but for this thou art always\nresting and I toiling, and thou sleeping and I waking; thou art\nfull and I hungry and thou honoured and I despised.' 'O\nbroadhead,' answered the ass,' he was in the right who dubbed\nthee ox [FN#7], for thou art stupid in the extreme, nor is there\nin thee thought or craft but thou showest zeal and cost thine\nutmost endeavour before thy master and fearest and killest\nthyself for the benefit of another. Thou goest forth at the time\nof morning prayer and returnest not till sundown and endurest all\nday all manner of afflictions, now blows now fatigue and now\nabuse. When thou returnest, the ploughman ties thee to a stinking\nmanger, and thou friskest and pawest the ground and buttest with\nthy horns and bellowest greatly, and they think thou art content.\nNo sooner have they thrown thee thy fodder than thou fallest on\nit greedily and hastenest to fill thy belly with it. But if thou\nwilt follow my counsel, it will be the better for thee and thou\nwilt get twice as much rest as I. When thou goest forth to the\nfurrow and they lay the yoke on thy neck, lie down, and do not\nrise, even if they beat thee, or only rise and lie down again;\nand when they bring thee home, fall prostrate on thy back and\nrefuse thy fodder, when they throw it thee and feign to be sick.\nDo this for a day or two and thou wilt have rest from toil and\nweariness.' The ox thanked the ass greatly for his advice and\ncalled down blessings on him; and the merchant heard all that\npassed between them.\n\n\nNext day the ploughman took the ox and yoked him to the plough\nand set him to work as usual. The ox began to fall short in his\nwork, and the ploughman beat him till he broke the yoke and fled,\nfollowing out the ass's precepts; but the man overtook him and\nbeat him till he despaired of life. Yet for all that, he did\nnothing but stand still and fall down till the evening. Then the\nploughman took him home and tied him in his stall; but he\nwithdrew from the manger and neither frisked nor stamped nor\nbellowed as usual, and the man wondered at this. Then he brought\nhim the beans and straw, but he smelt at them and left them and\nlay down at a distance and passed the night without eating. Next\nmorning, the ploughman came and found the straw and beans\nuntouched and the ox lying on his back, with his stomach swollen\nand his legs in the air; so he was concerned for him and said to\nhimself, 'He has certainly fallen ill, and this is why he would\nnot work yesterday.' Then he went to his master and told him that\nthe ox was ill and would not touch his fodder. Now the farmer\nknew what this meant, for that he had overheard the talk between\nthe ox and the ass as before mentioned. So he said, 'Take that\nknave of an ass and bind the yoke on his neck and harness him to\nthe plough and try and make him do the ox's work.' So the\nploughman took the ass and made him work all day beyond his\nstrength to accomplish the ox's task; and he beat him till his\nskin and ribs were sore and his neck flayed with the yoke. When\nthe evening came and the ass resumed home, he could hardly drag\nhimself along. But as for the ox, he had lain all day, resting,\nand had eaten his fodder cheerfully and with a good appetite; and\nall day long he had called down blessings on the ass for his good\ncounsel, not knowing what had befallen him on his account. So\nwhen the night came and the ass returned to the stable, the ox\narose and said to him, 'Mayst thou be gladdened with good news, O\nFather Wakeful! Through thee, I have rested today and have eaten\nmy food in peace and comfort.' The ass made him no answer, for\nrage and vexation and fatigue and the beating he had undergone;\nbut he said to himself, 'All this comes of my folly in giving\nanother good advice; as the saying goes, \"I was lying at full\nlength, but my officiousness would not let me be.\" But I will go\nabout with him and return him to his place, else I shall perish.'\nThen he went to his manger weary, whilst the ox thanked him and\nblessed him. \"And thou, O my daughter,\" said the Vizier, \"like\nthe ass, wilt perish through thy lack of sense, so do thou oft\nquiet and cast not thyself into perdition; indeed I give thee\ngood counsel and am affectionately solicitous for thee.\" \"O my\nfather,\" answered she, \"nothing will serve me but I must go up to\nthis king and become his wife.\" Quoth he, \"An thou hold not thy\npeace and bide still, I will do with thee even as the merchant\ndid with his wife.\" \"And what was that?\" asked she. \"Know,\"\nanswered he, \"that the merchant and his wife and children came\nout on the terrace, it being a moonlit night and the moon at its\nfull. Now the terrace overlooked the byre; and presently, as he\nsat, with his children playing before him, the merchant heard the\nass say to the ox, 'Tell me, O Father Stupid, what dost thou mean\nto do tomorrow?' 'What but that thou advisest me?' answered the\nox. 'Thine advice was as good as could be and has gotten me\ncomplete rest, and I will not depart from it in the least; so\nwhen they bring me my fodder, I will refuse it and feign sickness\nand swell out my belly.' The ass shook his head and said, 'Beware\nof doing that I' 'Why?' asked the ox, and the ass answered, 'Know\nthat I heard our master say to the labourer, \"If the ox do not\nrise and eat his fodder today, send for the butcher to slaughter\nhim, and give his flesh to the poor and make a rug of his skin.\"\nAnd I fear for thee on account of this. So take my advice, ere\nill-hap betide thee, and when they bring thee the fodder, eat it\nand arise and bellow and paw the ground with thy feet, or our\nmaster will assuredly slaughter thee.' Whereupon the ox arose and\nbellowed and thanked the ass, and said, 'Tomorrow, I will go with\nthem readily.' Then he ate up all his fodder, even to licking the\nmanger with his tongue.\n\nWhen the merchant heard this, he was amused at the ass's trick,\nand laughed, till he fell backward. 'Why dost thou laugh?' asked\nhis wife; and he said, 'I laughed at something that I saw and\nheard, but it is a secret and I cannot disclose it, or I shall\ndie.' Quoth she, 'There is no help for it but thou must tell me\nthe reason of thy laughter, though thou die for it.' 'I cannot\nreveal it,' answered he, 'for fear of death.' 'It was at me thou\ndidst laugh,' said she, and ceased not to importune him till he\nwas worn out and distracted. So he assembled all his family and\nkinsfolk and summoned the Cadi and the witnesses, being minded to\nmake his last dispositions and impart to her the secret and die,\nfor indeed he loved her with a great love, and she was the\ndaughter of his father's brother and the mother of his children.\nMoreover, he sent for all her family and the neighbours, and when\nthey were all assembled, he told them the state of the case and\nannounced to them the approach of his last hour. Then he gave his\nwife her portion and appointed guardians of his children and\nfreed his slave girls and took leave of his people. They all\nwept, and the Cadi and the witnesses wept also and went up to the\nwife and said to her, 'We conjure thee, by Allah, give up this\nmatter, lest thy husband and the father of thy children die. Did\nhe not know that if he revealed the secret, he would surely die,\nhe would have told thee.' But she replied, 'By Allah, I will not\ndesist from him, till he tell me, though he die for it.' So they\nforbore to press her. And all who were present wept sore, and\nthere was a general mourning in the house. Then the merchant rose\nand went to the cow-house, to make his ablutions and pray,\nintending after to return and disclose his secret and die.\n\nNow he had a cock and fifty hens and a dog, and he heard the\nlatter say in his lingo to the cock, 'How mean is thy wit, O\ncock! May he be disappointed who reared thee! Our master is in\nextremity and thou clappest thy wings and crowest and fliest from\none hen's back to another's! God confound thee! Is this a time\nfor sport and diversion? Art thou not ashamed of thyself?' 'And\nwhat ails our master, O dog?' asked the cock. The dog told him\nwhat had happened and how the merchant's wife had importuned him,\ntill he was about to tell her his secret and die, and the cock\nsaid, 'Then is our master little of wit and lacking in sense; if\nhe cannot manage his affairs with a single wife, his life is not\nworth prolonging. See, I have fifty wives. I content this one and\nanger that, stint one and feed another, and through my good\ngovernance they are all under my control. Now, our master\npretends to sense and accomplishments, and he has but one wife\nand yet knows not how to manage her.' Quoth the dog, 'What, then,\nshould our master do?' 'He should take a stick,' replied the\ncock, 'and beat her soundly, till she says, \"I repent, O my lord!\nI will never again ask a question as long as I live.\" And when\nonce he has done this, he will be free from care and enjoy life.\nBut he has neither sense nor judgment.'\n\nWhen the merchant heard what the cock said, he went to his wife\n(after he had hidden a rattan in an empty store-room) and said to\nher, 'Come with me into this room, that I may tell thee my secret\nand die and none see me.' So she entered gladly, thinking that he\nwas about to tell her his secret, and he locked the door; then he\ntook the rattan and brought it down on her back and ribs and\nshoulders, saying, 'Wilt thou ask questions about what is none of\nthy business?' He beat her till she was well-nigh senseless, and\nshe cried out, 'By Allah, I will ask thee no more questions, and\nindeed I repent sincerely!' And she kissed his hands and feet.\nThen he unlocked the door and went out and told the company what\nhad happened, whereat they rejoiced, and mourning was changed\ninto joy and gladness. So the merchant learnt good management\nfrom a cock, and he and his wife lived happily until death.\n\nAnd thou, O my daughter,\" added the Vizier, \"except thou desist\nfrom this thing, I will do with thee even as the merchant did\nwith his wife.\" \"I will never desist,\" answered she, \"nor is it\nthis story that can turn me from my purpose; and an thou yield\nnot to me, I will go up myself to the King and complain to him of\nthee, in that thou grudges the like of me to the like of him.\"\nQuoth her father, \"Must it be so?\" And she answered \"Yes.\" So\nbeing weary of striving with her and despairing of turning her\nfrom her purpose, he went up to King Shehriyar and kissing the\nearth before him, told him about his daughter and how she would\nhave him give her to him that next night; whereat the King\nmarvelled and said to him, \"How is this? By Him who raised up the\nheavens, if thou bring her to me, I shall say to thee on the\nmorrow, 'Take her and put her to death.' And if thou kill her\nnot, I will kill thee without fail.\" \"O king of the age,\"\nanswered the Vizier, \"it is she who will have it so; and I told\nher all this, but she will not hear me and insists upon passing\nthis night with thy highness.\" \"It is well,\" answered Shehriyar;\n\"go and make her ready, and tonight bring her to me.\" So the\nVizier returned to his daughter and told her what had passed,\nsaying, \"May God not bereave us of thee!\" But Shehrzad rejoiced\nwith an exceeding joy and made ready all that she needed, and\nsaid to her sister Dunyazad, \"O my sister, note well what I shall\nenjoin thee. When I go up to the Sultan, I will send after thee,\nand when thou comest to me and seest that the King has done his\nwill of me, do thou say to me, 'O my sister, an thou be not\nasleep, tell us some of thy delightful stories, to pass away the\nwatches of this our night.' Do this and (God willing) it shall be\nthe means of my deliverance and of the ridding of the folk of\nthis calamity, and by it I will turn the King from his custom.\"\nDunyazad answered, \"It is well.\" And the Vizier carried Shehrzad\nto the King, who took her to his bed and fell to toying with her.\nBut she wept, and he said to her, \"Why dost thou weep?\" \"O king\nof the age,\" answered she, \"I have a young sister and I desire to\ntake leave of her this night and that she may take leave of me\nbefore the morning.\" So he sent for Dunyazad, and she waited till\nthe Sultan had done his desire of her sister and they were all\nthree awake, when she coughed and said, \"O my sister, an thou be\nnot asleep, tell us one of thy pleasant stories, to beguile the\nwatches of our night, and I will take leave of thee before the\nmorning.\" \"With all my heart,\" answered Shehrzad, \"if the good\nking give me leave.\" The King being wakeful, was pleased to hear\na story and said, \"Tell on.\" Whereat she rejoiced greatly and\nsaid, \"It is related, O august king, that\n\n\n\n\n                  THE MERCHANT AND THE GENIE.\n\n\n\nThere was once a merchant, who had much substance and traded\nlargely in foreign countries. One day, as he was riding through a\ncertain country, whither he had gone to collect what was due to\nhim, there overtook him the heat of the day and presently he\nespied a garden[FN#8] before him; so he made towards it for\nshelter and alighting, sat down under a walnut tree, by a spring\nof water. Then he put his hand to his saddle bags and took out a\ncake of bread and a date and ate them and threw away the date\nstone, when behold, there started up before him a gigantic Afrit,\nwith a naked sword in his hand, who came up to him and said,\n'Arise, that I may slay thee, even as thou hast slain my son.'\n'How did I slay thy son?' asked the merchant, and the genie\nreplied, 'When thou threwest away the date stone, it smote my\nson, who was passing at the time, on the breast, and he died\nforthright.' When the merchant heard this, he said, 'Verily we\nare God's and to Him we return! There is no power and no virtue\nbut in God, the Most High, the Supreme! If I killed him, it was\nby misadventure, and I prithee pardon me.' But the genie said,\n'There is no help for it but I must kill thee.' Then he seized\nhim and throwing him down, raised his sword to strike him:\nwhereupon the merchant wept and said, 'I commit my affair to\nGod!' and recited the following verses:\n\nFate has two days, untroubled one, the other lowering, And life\n     two parts, the one content, the other sorrowing.\nSay unto him that taunteth us with fortune's perfidy, 'At whom\n     but those whose heads are high doth Fate its arrows fling?'\nIf that the hands of Time have made their plaything of our life,\n     Till for its long protracted kiss ill-hap upon us spring,\nDost thou not see the hurricane, what time the wild winds blow,\n     Smite down the stately trees alone and spare each lesser\n     thing?\nLo! in the skies are many stars, no one can tell their tale, But\n     to the sun and moon alone eclipse brings darkening.\nThe earth bears many a pleasant herb and many a plant and tree:\n     But none is stoned save only those to which the fair fruit\n     cling.\nLook on the sea and how the waifs float up upon the foam, But in\n     its deepest depths of blue the pearls have sojourning.\n\n'Cut short thy speech,' said the genie, 'for, by Allah, there is\nno help for it but I must kill thee.' 'Know, O Afrit,' replied\nthe merchant, 'that I have a wife and children and much\nsubstance, and I owe debts and hold pledges: so let me return\nhome and give every one his due, and I vow by all that is most\nsacred that I will return to thee at the end of the year, that\nthou mayest do with me as thou wilt, and God is witness of what I\nsay.' The genie accepted his promise and released him, whereupon\nhe returned to his dwelling-place and paid his debts and settled\nall his affairs. Moreover, he told his wife and children what had\nhappened and made his last dispositions, and tarried with his\nfamily till the end of the year. Then he rose and made his\nablutions[FN#9] and took his winding sheet under his arm and\nbidding his household and kinsfolk and neighbours farewell, set\nout, much against his will, to perform his promise to the genie;\nwhilst his family set up a great noise of crying and lamentation.\nHe journeyed on till he reached the garden, where he had met with\nthe genie, on the first day of the new year, and there sat down\nto await his doom. Presently, as he sat weeping over what had\nbefallen him, there came up an old man, leading a gazelle by a\nchain, and saluted the merchant, saying, 'What ails thee to sit\nalone in this place, seeing that it is the resort of the\nJinn?'[FN#10] The merchant told him all that had befallen him\nwith the Afrit, and he wondered and said, 'By Allah, O my\nbrother, thy good faith is exemplary and thy story is a\nmarvellous one! If it were graven with needles on the corners of\nthe eye, it would serve as a warning to those that can profit by\nexample.' Then he sat down by his side, saying, 'By Allah, O my\nbrother, I will not leave thee till I see what befalls thee with\nthis Afrit.' So they sat conversing, and fear and terror got hold\nupon the merchant and trouble increased upon him, notwithstanding\nthe old man's company. Presently another old man came up, leading\ntwo black dogs, and saluting them, inquired why they sat in a\nplace known to be haunted by Jinn, whereupon the merchant\nrepeated his story to him. He had not sat long with them when\nthere came up a third old man leading a dappled she-mule, and\nafter putting to them the same question and receiving a like\nanswer, sat down with them to await the issue of the affair. They\nhad sat but a little while longer, when behold, there arose a\ncloud of dust and a great whirling column approached from the\nheart of the desert. Then the dust lifted and discovered the\ngenie, with a drawn sword in his hand and sparks of fire issuing\nfrom his eyes. He came up to them and dragged the merchant from\namongst them, saying, 'Rise, that I may slay thee as thou slewest\nmy son, the darling of my heart!' Whereupon the merchant wept and\nbewailed himself and the three old men joined their cries and\nlamentations to his. Then came forward the first old man, he of\nthe gazelle, and kissed the Afrit's hand and said to him, 'O\ngenie and crown of the kings of the Jinn, if I relate to thee my\nhistory with this gazelle and it seem to thee wonderful, wilt\nthou grant me a third of this merchant's blood?' 'Yes, O old\nman,' answered the genie, 'if thou tell me thy story and I find\nit wonderful, I will remit to thee a third of his blood.' Then\nsaid the old man, 'Know, O Afrit, that\n\n\n\n\n                   The First Old Man's Story.\n\n\n\nThis gazelle is the daughter of my father's brother and my own\nflesh and blood. I married her whilst she was yet of tender age\nand lived with her near thirty years, without being blessed with\na child by her. So I took me a concubine and had by her a son\nlike the rising full moon, with eyes and eyebrows of perfect\nbeauty; and he grew up and flourished till he reached the age of\nfifteen, when I had occasion to journey to a certain city, and\nset out thither with great store of merchandise. Now my wife had\nstudied sorcery and magic from her youth: so, I being gone, she\nturned my son into a calf and his mother into a cow and delivered\nthem both to the cowherd: and when, after a long absence, I\nreturned from my journey and inquired after my son and his\nmother, my wife said to me, \"Thy slave died and her son ran\naway, whither I know not.\" I abode for the space of a year,\nmournful-hearted and weeping-eyed, till the coming of the Greater\nFestival, when I sent to the herdsman and bade him bring me a fat\ncow for the purpose of sacrifice. So he brought me the very cow\ninto which my wife had changed my concubine by her art; and I\ntucked up my skirts and taking the knife in my hand, went up to\nthe cow to slaughter her; but she lowed and moaned so piteously,\nthat I was seized with wonder and compassion and held my hand\nfrom her and said to the herd, \"Bring me another cow.\" \"Not so!\"\ncried my wife. \"Slaughter this one, for we have no finer nor\nfatter.\" So I went up to her again, but she cried out, and I left\nher and ordered the herdsman to kill her and skin her. So he\nkilled her and flayed her, but found on her neither fat nor\nflesh, only skin and bone. Then I was sorry for having slain her,\nwhen repentance availed me not; and I gave her to the herd and\nsaid to him, \"Bring me a fat calf.\" So he brought me my son in\nthe guise of a calf; and when he saw me, he broke his halter and\ncame up to me and fawned on me and moaned and wept, till I took\npity on him and said to the man, \"Bring me a cow and let this\ncalf go.\" But my wife cried out at me and said, \"Not so: thou\nmust sacrifice this calf and none other to-day: for it is a holy\nand a blessed day, on which it behoves us to offer up none but a\ngood thing, and we have no calf fatter or finer than this one.\"\nQuoth I, \"Look at the condition of the cow I slaughtered by thine\norder; we were deceived in her, and now I will not be persuaded\nby thee to slay this calf this time.\" \"By the great God, the\nCompassionate, the Merciful,\" answered she, \"thou must without\nfail sacrifice this calf on this holy day! Else thou art no\nlonger my husband nor am I thy wife.\" When I heard this harsh\nspeech from her, I went up to the calf, knowing not what she\naimed at, and took the knife in my hand.'\" Here Shehrzad perceived\nthe day and was silent; and her sister said to her, \"What a\ncharming and delightful story!\" Quoth Shehrzad, \"This is nothing\nto what I will tell thee to-morrow night, if the King let me\nlive.\" And the King said to himself, \"By Allah, I will not kill\nher, till I hear the rest of the story!\" So they lay together\ntill morning, when the King went out to his hall of audience and\nthe Vizier came in to him, with the winding-sheet under his arm.\nThen the King ordered and appointed and deposed, without telling\nthe Vizier aught of what had happened, much to the former's\nsurprise, until the end of the day, when the Divan broke up and\nhe retired to his apartments.\n\n                And when it was the second night\n\nDunyazad said to her sister Shehrzad, \"O my sister, finish us thy\nstory of the merchant and the genie.\" \"With all my heart,\"\nanswered she, \"if the King give me leave.\" The king bade her \"Say\non.\" So she began as follows: \"It has reached me, O august king\nand wise governor, that the first old man continued his story as\nfollows: 'O lord of the Kings of the Jinn, as I was about to kill\nthe calf, my heart failed me and I said to the herdsman, \"Keep\nthis calf with the rest of the cattle.\" So he took it and went\naway. Next day the herd came to me, as I was sitting by myself,\nand said to me, \"O my lord, I have that to tell thee will rejoice\nthee, and I claim a reward for good news.\" Quoth I, \"It is well.\"\nAnd he said, \"O merchant, I have a daughter, who learnt the art\nof magic in her youth from an old woman who lived with us, and\nyesterday, when I took home the calf that thou gavest me, she\nlooked at it and veiled her face and fell a-weeping. Then she\nlaughed and said to me, 'O my father, am I become of so little\naccount in thine eyes that thou bringest in to me strange men?'\n'Where are the strange men?' asked I. 'And why dost thou weep and\nlaugh?' Quoth she, 'The calf thou hast there is our master's son,\nwho has been enchanted, as well as his mother, by his father's\nwife. This is why I laughed: and I wept for his mother, because\nhis father slaughtered her.' I wondered exceedingly at this and\nthe day had no sooner broken than I came to tell thee.\" When\n(continued the old man) I heard the herdsman's story, O genie, I\nwent out with him, drunken without wine for stress of joy and\ngladness, and accompanied him to his house, where his daughter\nwelcomed me and kissed my hand; and the calf came up to me and\nfawned on me. Said I to the girl, \"Is it true what I hear about\nthis calf?\" \"Yes, O my lord,\" answered she, \"this is indeed thy\nson and the darling of thy heart.\" So I said to her, \"O damsel,\nif thou wilt release him, all that is under thy father's hand of\nbeasts and goods shall be thine!\" But she smiled and said, \"O my\nlord, I care not for wealth, but I will do what thou desirest\nupon two conditions, the first that thou marry me to this thy\nson, and the second that thou permit me to bewitch the sorceress\nand imprison her (in the shape of a beast); else I shall not be\nsafe from her craft.\" I answered, \"Besides what thou seekest,\nthou shalt have all that is under thy father's hand, and as to my\nwife, it shall be lawful to thee to shed her blood, if thou\nwilt.\" When she heard this, she took a cup full of water, and\nconjured over it; then sprinkled the calf with the water, saying,\n\"If thou be a calf by the creation of the Almighty, abide in that\nform and change not: but if thou be enchanted, return to thine\noriginal form, with the permission of God the Most High!\" With\nthat he shook and became a man: and I fell upon him and said to\nhim, \"For God's sake, tell me what my wife did with thee and thy\nmother.\" So he told me what had befallen them and I said to\nhim, \"O my son, God hath sent thee one to deliver and avenge\nthee.\" Then I married him to the herdsman's daughter, and she\ntransformed my wife into this gazelle, saying to me, \"I have\ngiven her this graceful form for thy sake, that thou mayest look\non her without aversion.\" She dwelt with us days and nights and\nnights and days, till God took her to Himself; and after her\ndeath, my son set out on a journey to the land of Ind, which is\nthis merchant's native country; and after awhile, I took the\ngazelle and travelled with her from place to place, seeking news\nof my son, till chance led me to this garden, where I found this\nmerchant sitting weeping; and this is my story.' Quoth the genie,\n'This is indeed a rare story, and I remit to thee a third part of\nhis blood.' Then came forward the second old man, he of the two\ngreyhounds, and said to the genie, 'I will tell thee my story\nwith these two dogs, and if thou find it still rarer and more\nmarvellous, do thou remit to me another third part of his blood.\nQuoth the genie, 'I agree to this.' Then said the second old man,\n'Know, O lord of the Kings of the Jinn, that\n\n\n\n\n                  The Second Old Man's Story.\n\n\n\nThese two dogs are my elder brothers. Our father died and left us\nthree thousand dinars,[FN#11] and I opened a shop that I might\nbuy and sell therein, and my brothers did each the like. But\nbefore long, my eldest brother sold his stock for a thousand\ndinars and bought goods and merchandise and setting out on his\ntravels, was absent a whole year. One day, as I was sitting in my\nshop, a beggar stopped before me and I said to him, \"God assist\nthee!\"[FN#12] But he said to me, weeping, \"Dost thou not\nrecognize me?\" I took note of him, and behold, it was my brother.\nSo I rose and welcomed him and made him sit down by me and\ninquired how he came in such a case: but he answered, \"Do not ask\nme: my wealth is wasted and fortune has turned her back on me.\"\nThen I carried him to the bath and clad him in one of my own\nsuits and took him to live with me. Moreover, I cast up my\naccounts and found that I had made a thousand dinars profit, so\nthat my capital was now two thousand dinars. I divided this\nbetween my brother and myself, saying to him, \"Put it that thou\nhast never travelled nor been abroad.\" He took it gladly and\nopened a shop with it. Presently, my second brother arose like\nthe first and sold his goods and all that belonged to him and\ndetermined to travel. We would have dissuaded him, but he would\nnot be dissuaded and bought merchandise with which he set out on\nhis travels, and we saw no more of him for a whole year; at the\nend of which time he came to us as had done his elder brother,\nand I said to him, \"O my brother, did I not counsel thee not to\ntravel?\" And he wept and said, \"O my brother, it was decreed: and\nbehold, I am poor, without a dirhem [FN#13] or a shirt to my\nback.\" Then I carried him to the bath and clad him in a new suit\nof my own and brought him back to my shop, where we ate and drank\ntogether; after which, I said to him, \"O my brother, I will make\nup the accounts of my shop, as is my wont once a year, and the\nincrease shall be between thee and me.\" So I arose and took stock\nand found I was worth two thousand dinars increase, in excess of\ncapital, wherefore I praised the Divine Creator and gave my\nbrother a thousand dinars, with which he opened a shop. In this\nsituation we remained for some time, till one day, my brothers\ncame to me and would have me go on a voyage with them; but I\nrefused and said to them, \"What did your travels profit you, that\nI should look to profit by the same venture?\" And I would not\nlisten to them; so we abode in our shops, buying and selling, and\nevery year they pressed me to travel, and I declined, until six\nyears had elapsed. At last I yielded to their wishes and said to\nthem, \"O my brothers, I will make a voyage with you, but first\nlet me see what you are worth.\" So I looked into their affairs\nand found they had nothing left, having wasted all their\nsubstance in eating and drinking and merrymaking. However, I said\nnot a word of reproach to them, but sold my stock and got in all\nI had and found I was worth six thousand dinars. So I rejoiced\nand divided the sum into two equal parts and said to my brothers,\n\"These three thousand dinars are for you and me to trade with.\"\nThe other three thousand I buried, in case what befell them\nshould befall me also, so that we might still have, on our\nreturn, wherewithal to open our shops again. They were content\nand I gave them each a thousand dinars and kept the like myself.\nThen we provided ourselves with the necessary merchandise and\nequipped ourselves for travel and chartered a ship, which we\nfreighted with our goods. After a month's voyage, we came to a\ncity, in which we sold our goods at a profit of ten dinars on\nevery one (of prime cost). And as we were about to take ship\nagain, we found on the beach a damsel in tattered clothes, who\nkissed my hand and said to me, \"O my lord, is there in thee\nkindness and charity? I will requite thee for them.\" Quoth I,\n\"Indeed I love to do courtesy and charity, though I be not\nrequited.\" And she said, \"O my lord, I beg thee to marry me and\nclothe me and take me back to thy country, for I give myself to\nthee. Entreat me courteously, for indeed I am of those whom it\nbehoves to use with kindness and consideration; and I will\nrequite thee therefor: do not let my condition prejudice thee.\"\nWhen I heard what she said, my heart inclined to her, that what\nGod (to whom belong might and majesty) willed might come to pass.\nSo I carried her with me and clothed her and spread her a goodly\nbed in the ship and went in to her and made much of her. Then we\nset sail again and indeed my heart clove to her with a great love\nand I left her not night nor day and occupied myself with her to\nthe exclusion of my brothers. Wherefore they were jealous of me\nand envied me my much substance; and they looked upon it with\ncovetous eyes and took counsel together to kill me and to take my\ngoods, saying, \"Let us kill our brother, and all will be ours.\"\nAnd Satan made this to seem good in their eyes. So they took me\nsleeping beside my wife and lifted us both up and threw us into\nthe sea. When my wife awoke, she shook herself and becoming an\nAfriteh,[FN#14] took me up and carried me to an island, where she\nleft me for awhile. In the morning, she returned and said to me,\n\"I have paid thee my debt, for it is I who bore thee up out of\nthe sea and saved thee from death, by permission of God the Most\nHigh. Know that I am of the Jinn who believe in God and His\nApostle (whom God bless and preserve!) and I saw thee and loved\nthee for God's sake. So I came to thee in the plight thou knowest\nof and thou didst marry me, and now I have saved thee from\ndrowning. But I am wroth with thy brothers, and needs must I kill\nthem.\" When I heard her words, I wondered and thanked her for\nwhat she had done and begged her not to kill my brothers. Then I\ntold her all that had passed between us, and she said, \"This very\nnight will I fly to them and sink their ship and make an end of\nthem.\" \"God on thee,\" answered I, \"do not do this, for the\nproverb says, 'O thou who dost good to those who do evil, let his\ndeeds suffice the evil doer!' After all, they are my brothers.\"\nQuoth she, \"By Allah, I must kill them.\" And I besought her till\nshe lifted me up and flying away with me, set me down on the roof\nof my own house, where she left me. I went down and unlocked the\ndoors and brought out what I had hidden under the earth and\nopened my shop, after I had saluted the folk and bought goods. At\nnightfall, I returned home and found these two dogs tied up in\nthe courtyard: and when they saw me, they came up to me and wept\nand fawned on me. At the same moment, my wife presented herself\nand said to me, \"These are thy brothers.\" \"Who has done this\nthing unto them?\" asked I; and she answered, \"I sent to my\nsister, who turned them into this form, and they shall not be\ndelivered from the enchantment till after ten years.\" Then she\nleft me, after telling me where to find her; and now, the ten\nyears having expired, I was carrying the dogs to her, that she\nmight release them, when I fell in with this merchant, who\nacquainted me with what had befallen him. So I determined not to\nleave him, till I saw what passed between thee and him: and this\nis my story.' 'This is indeed a rare story,' said the genie, 'and\nI remit to thee a third part of his blood and his crime.' Then\ncame forward the third old man, he of the mule, and said, 'O\ngenie, I will tell thee a story still more astonishing than the\ntwo thou hast heard, and do thou remit to me the remainder of his\nblood and crime.' The genie replied, 'It is well.' So the third\nold man said, 'Know, O Sultan and Chief of the Jinn, that\n\n\n\n\n                   The Third Old Man's Story.\n\n\n\nThis mule was my wife. Some time ago, I had occasion to travel\nand was absent from her a whole year; at the end of which time I\nreturned home by night and found my wife in bed with a black\nslave, talking and laughing and toying and kissing and dallying.\nWhen she saw me, she made haste and took a mug of water and\nmuttered over it; then came up to me and sprinkled me with the\nwater, saying, \"Leave this form for that of a dog!\" And\nimmediately I became a dog. She drove me from the house, and I\nwent out of the door and ceased not running till I came to a\nbutcher's shop, where I stopped and began to eat the bones. The\nbutcher took me and carried me into his house; but when his\ndaughter saw me, she veiled her face and said to her father, \"How\nis it that thou bringest a man in to me?\" \"Where is the man?\"\nasked he; and she replied, \"This dog is a man, whose wife has\nenchanted him, and I can release him.\" When her father heard\nthis, he said, \"I conjure thee by Allah, O my daughter, release\nhim!\" So she took a mug of water and muttered over it, then\nsprinkled a little of it on me, saying, \"Leave this shape and\nreturn to thy former one.\" And immediately I became a man again\nand kissed her hand and begged her to enchant my wife as she had\nenchanted me. So she gave me a little of the water and said to\nme, \"When thou seest her asleep, sprinkle her with this water and\nrepeat the words thou hast heard me use, naming the shape thou\nwouldst have her take, and she will become whatever thou\nwishest.\" So I took the water and returned home and went in to my\nwife. I found her asleep and sprinkled the water upon her,\nsaying, \"Quit this form for that of a mule.\" And she at once\nbecame a mule; and this is she whom thou seest before thee, O\nSultan and Chief of the Kings of the Jinn!' Then he said to the\nmule, 'Is it true?' And she nodded her head and made signs as who\nshould say, 'Yes, indeed: this is my history and what befell\nme.'\" Here Shehrzad perceived the day and was silent. And\nDunyazad said to her, \"O my sister, what a delightful story is\nthis of thine!\" \"This is nothing,\" answered Shehrzad, \"to what I\nwill tell thee to-morrow night, if the King let me live.\" Quoth\nthe King to himself, \"By Allah, I will not put her to death till\nI hear the rest of her story, for it is wonderful.\" And they lay\ntogether till the morning. Then the King rose and betook himself\nto his audience-chamber, and the Vizier and the troops presented\nthemselves and the Court was full. The King judged and appointed\nand deposed and ordered and forbade till the end of the day, when\nthe Divan broke up and he returned to his apartments.\n\n                And when it was the third night\n\nand the King had taken his will of the Vizier's daughter,\nDunyazad said to her sister, \"O my sister, finish us thy story.\"\n\"With all my heart,\" answered Shehrzad. \"Know, O august King,\nthat when the genie heard the third old man's story, he marvelled\nexceedingly and shook with delight and said, 'I remit to thee the\nremainder of his crime.' Then he released the merchant, who went\nup to the three old men and thanked them; and they gave him joy\nof his escape and returned, each to his own country. Nor is this\nmore wonderful than the story of the Fisherman and the Genie.\"\n\"What is that?\" asked the King: and she said, \"I have heard tell,\nO august King, that\n\n\n\n\n\n                  THE FISHERMAN AND THE GENIE.\n\n\n\nThere was once a poor fisherman, who was getting on in years and\nhad a wife and three children; and it was his custom every day to\ncast his net four times and no more. One day he went out at the\nhour of noon and repaired to the sea-shore, where he set down his\nbasket and tucked up his skirts and plunging into the sea, cast\nhis net and waited till it had settled down in the water. Then he\ngathered the cords in his hand and found it heavy and pulled at\nit, but could not bring it up. So he carried the end of the cords\nashore and drove in a stake, to which he made them fast. Then he\nstripped and diving round the net, tugged at it till he brought\nit ashore. Whereat he rejoiced and landing, put on his clothes;\nbut when he came to examine the net, he found in it a dead ass;\nand the net was torn. When he saw this, he was vexed and said:\n'There is no power and no virtue save in God the Most High, the\nSupreme! This is indeed strange luck!' And he repeated the\nfollowing verses:\n\nO thou that strivest in the gloom of darkness and distress, Cut\n     short thine efforts, for in strife alone lies not success!\nSeest not the fisherman that seeks his living in the sea, Midmost\n     the network of the stars that round about him press!\nUp to his midst he plunges in: the billows buffet him; But from\n     the bellying net his eyes cease not in watchfulness;\nTill when, contented with his night, he carries home a fish,\n     Whose throat the hand of Death hath slit with trident\n     pitiless,\nComes one who buys his prey of him, one who has passed the night,\n     Safe from the cold, in all delight of peace and blessedness.\nPraise be to God who gives to this and cloth to that deny! Some\n     fish, and others eat the fish caught with such toil and\n     stress.\n\nThen he said, 'Courage! I shall have better luck next time,\nplease God!' And repeated the following verses:\n\nIf misfortune assail thee, clothe thyself thereagainst With\n     patience, the part of the noble: 'twere wiselier done.\nComplain not to men: that were indeed to complain, To those that\n     have no mercy, of the Merciful One.\n\nSo saying, he threw out the dead ass and wrung the net and spread\nit out. Then he went down into the sea and cast again, saying,\n'In the name of God!' and waited till the net had settled down in\nthe water, when he pulled the cords and finding it was heavy and\nresisted more than before, thought it was full of fish. So he\nmade it fast to the shore and stripped and dived into the water\nround the net, till he got it free. Then he hauled at it till he\nbrought it ashore, but found in it nothing but a great jar full\nof sand and mud. When he saw this, he groaned aloud and repeated\nthe following verses:\n\nAnger of Fate, have pity and forbear, Or at the least hold back\n     thy hand and spare!\nI sally forth to seek my daily bread And find my living vanished\n     into air.\nHow many a fool's exalted to the stars, Whilst sages hidden in\n     the mire must fare!\n\nThen he threw out the jar and wrung out and cleansed his net:\nafter which he asked pardon of God the Most High[FN#15] and\nreturning to the sea a third time, cast the net. He waited till\nit had settled down, then pulled it up and found in it potsherds\nand bones and broken bottles: whereat he was exceeding wroth and\nwept and recited the following verses:\n\nFortune's with God: thou mayst not win to bind or set it free:\n     Nor letter-lore nor any skill can bring good hap to thee.\nFortune, indeed, and benefits by Fate are lotted out: One\n     country's blest with fertile fields, whilst others sterile\n     be.\nThe shifts of evil chance cast down full many a man of worth And\n     those, that merit not, uplift to be of high degree.\nSo come to me, O Death! for life is worthless verily; When\n     falcons humbled to the dust and geese on high we see.\n'Tis little wonder if thou find the noble-minded poor, What while\n     the loser by main force usurps his sovranty.\nOne bird will traverse all the earth and fly from East to West:\n     Another hath his every wish although no step stir he.\n\nThen he lifted his eyes to heaven and said, 'O my God, Thou\nknowest that I cast my net but four times a day; and now I have\ncast it three times and have taken nothing. Grant me then, O my\nGod, my daily bread this time!' So he said, 'In the name of God!'\nand cast his net and waited till it had settled down in the\nwater, then pulled it, but could not bring it up, for it was\ncaught in the bottom Whereupon, 'There is no power and no virtue\nbut in God!' said he and repeated the following verses:\n\nAway with the world, if it be like this, away! My part in it's\n     nought but misery and dismay!\nThough the life of a man in the morning be serene, He must drink\n     of the cup of woe ere ended day.\nAnd yet if one asked, 'Who's the happiest man alive?' The people\n     would point to me and 'He' would say.\n\nThen he stripped and dived down to the net and strove with it\ntill he brought it to shore, where he opened it and found in it a\nbrazen vessel, full and stoppered with lead, on which was\nimpressed the seal of our lord Solomon, son of David (on whom be\npeace!). When he saw this, he was glad and said, 'I will sell\nthis in the copper market, for it is worth half a score diners.'\nThen he shook it and found it heavy and said to himself, 'I\nwonder what is inside! I will open it and see what is in it,\nbefore I sell it.' So he took out a knife and worked at the\nleaden seal, till he extracted it from the vessel and laid it\naside. Then he turned the vase mouth downward and shook it, to\nturn out its contents; but nothing came out, and he wondered\ngreatly and laid it on the ground. Presently, there issued from\nit a smoke, which rose up towards the sky and passed over the\nface of the earth; then gathered itself together and condensed\nand quivered and became an Afrit, whose head was in the clouds\nand his feet in the dust. His head was like a dome, his hands\nlike pitchforks, his legs like masts, his mouth like a cavern,\nhis teeth like rocks, his nostrils like trumpets, his eyes like\nlamps, and he was stern and lowering of aspect. When the\nfisherman saw the Afrit, he trembled in every limb; his teeth\nchattered and his spittle dried up and he knew not what to do.\nWhen the Afrit saw him, he said, 'There is no god but God, and\nSolomon is His prophet! O prophet of God, do not kill me, for I\nwill never again disobey thee or cross thee, either in word or\ndeed !' Quoth the fisherman, 'O Marid,[FN#16] thou sayest,\n\"Solomon is the prophet of God.\" Solomon is dead these eighteen\nhundred years, and we are now at the end of time. But what is thy\nhistory and how comest thou in this vessel?' When the Marid heard\nthis, he said, 'There is no god but God! I have news for thee, O\nfisherman!' 'What news?' asked he, and the Afrit answered, 'Even\nthat I am about to slay thee without mercy.' 'O chief of the\nAfrits,' said the fisherman, 'thou meritest the withdrawal of\nGod's protection from thee for saying this! Why wilt thou kill me\nand what calls for my death? Did I not deliver thee from the\nabysses of the sea and bring thee to land and release thee from\nthe vase?' Quoth the Afrit, 'Choose what manner of death thou\nwilt die and how thou wilt be killed.' 'What is my crime?' asked\nthe fisherman. 'Is this my reward for setting thee free?' The\nAfrit answered, 'Hear my story, O fisherman!' 'Say on and be\nbrief,' quoth he, 'for my heart is in my mouth.' Then said the\nAfrit, 'Know, O fisherman, that I was of the schismatic Jinn and\nrebelled against Solomon son of David (on whom be peace!), I and\nSekhr the genie; and he sent his Vizier Asef teen Berkhiya, who\ntook me by force and bound me and carried me, in despite of\nmyself, before Solomon, who invoked God's aid against me and\nexhorted me to embrace the Faith[FN#17] and submit to his\nauthority: but I refused. Then he sent for this vessel and shut\nme up in it and stoppered it with lead and sealed it with the\nMost High Name and commanded the Jinn to take me and throw me\ninto the midst of the sea. There I remained a hundred years, and\nI said in my heart, \"Whoso releaseth me, I will make him rich for\never.\" But the hundred years passed and no one came to release\nme, and I entered on another century and said, \"Whoso releaseth\nme, I will open to him the treasures of the earth\" But none\nreleased me, and other four hundred years passed over me, and I\nsaid, \"Whoso releaseth me, I will grant him three wishes.\" But no\none set me free. Then I was exceeding wroth and said to myself,\n\"Henceforth, whoso releaseth me, I will kill him and let him\nchoose what death he will die.\" And now, thou hast released me,\nand I give thee thy choice of deaths.' When the fisherman heard\nthis, he exclaimed, 'O God, the pity of it that I should not have\ncome to release thee till now!' Then he said to the Afrit, 'Spare\nme, that God may spare thee, and do not destroy me, lest God set\nover thee one who will destroy thee.' But he answered, 'There is\nno help for it, I must kill thee: so choose what death thou wilt\ndie.' The fisherman again returned to the charge, saying, 'Spare\nme for that I set thee free.' 'Did I not tell thee,' replied the\nMarid, 'that is why I kill thee?' 'O head of the Afrits,' said\nthe fisherman, 'I did thee a kindness, and thou repayest me with\nevil: indeed the proverb lieth not that saith:\n\n\"We did them good, and they the contrary returned: And this, upon\n     my life, is what the wicked do!\nWho helps those, that deserve it not, shall be repaid As the\n     hy\u00e6na paid the man that helped her through.\"'\n\n'Make no more words about it,' said the Afrit; 'thou must die.'\nQuoth the fisherman to himself, 'This is a genie, and I am a man;\nand God hath given me a good wit. So I will contrive for his\ndestruction by my wit and cunning, even as he plotted mine of his\ncraft and perfidy.' Then he said to the Afrit, 'Is there no help\nfor it, but thou must kill me?' He answered, 'No,' and the\nfisherman said, 'I conjure thee, by the Most High Name graven\nupon the ring of Solomon son of David (on whom be peace!), answer\nme one question truly.' When the Afrit heard him mention the Most\nHigh Name, he was agitated and trembled and replied, 'It is well:\nask and be brief.' Quoth the fisherman, 'This vessel would not\nsuffice for thy hand or thy foot: so how could it hold the whole\nof thee?' Said the Afrit, 'Dost thou doubt that I was in it?'\n'Yes,' answered the fisherman; 'nor will I believe it till I see\nit with my own eyes.'\" Here Shehrzad perceived the day and was\nsilent.\n\n            And when it was the fourth night[FN#18]\n\nDunyazad said to her sister, \"O sister, an thou be not asleep,\nfinish us thy story.\" So Shehrzad began, \"I have heard tell, O\naugust King, that, when he heard what the fisherman said, the\nAfrit shook and became a smoke over the sea, which drew together\nand entered the vessel little by little, till it was all inside.\nWhereupon the fisherman made haste to take the leaden stopper and\nclapping it on the mouth of the vessel, called out to the Afrit,\nsaying, 'Choose what death thou wilt die! By Allah, I will throw\nthee back into the sea and build myself a house hard by, and all\nwho come hither I will warn against fishing here, and say to\nthem, \"There is an Afrit in these waters, that gives those who\npull him out their choice of deaths and how he shall kill them.\"'\nWhen the Afrit heard this and found himself shut up in the\nvessel, he knew that the fisherman had outwitted him and strove\nto get out, but could not, for Solomon's seal prevented him; so\nhe said to the fisherman, 'I did but jest with thee.' 'Thou\nliest, O vilest and meanest and foulest of Afrits!' answered he,\nand rolled the vessel to the brink of the sea; which when the\nAfrit felt, he cried out, 'No! No!' And the fisherman said, 'Yes!\nYes!' Then the Afrit made his voice small and humbled himself and\nsaid, 'What wilt thou do with me, O fisherman?' 'I mean to throw\nthee back into the sea,' replied he; 'since thou hast lain there\nalready eighteen hundred years, thou shalt lie there now till the\nhour of judgment. Did I not say to thee, \"Spare me, so God may\nspare thee; and do not kill me, lest God kill thee?\" but thou\nspurnedst my prayers and wouldst deal with me no otherwise than\nperfidiously. So I used cunning with thee and now God has\ndelivered thee into my hand.' Said the Afrit, 'Let me out, that I\nmay confer benefits on thee.' The fisherman answered, 'Thou\nliest, O accursed one! Thou and I are like King Younan's Vizier\nand the physician Douban.' 'Who are they,' asked the Afrit, 'and\nwhat is their story?' Then said the fisherman, 'Know, O Afrit,\nthat\n\n\n\n\n                 Story of the Physician Douban.\n\n\n\nThere was once in a city of Persia a powerful and wealthy king,\nnamed Younan, who had guards and troops and auxiliaries of every\nkind: but he was afflicted with a leprosy, which defied the\nefforts of his physicians and wise men. He took potions and\npowders and used ointments, but all to no avail, and not one of\nthe doctors could cure him. At last, there came to the King's\ncapital city a great physician, stricken in years, whose name was\nDouban: and he had studied many books, Greek, ancient and modern,\nand Persian and Turkish and Arabic and Syriac and Hebrew, and was\nskilled in medicine and astrology, both theoretical and\npractical. Moreover he was familiar with all plants and herbs and\ngrasses, whether harmful or beneficial, and was versed in the\nlearning of the philosophers; in brief, he had made himself\nmaster of all sciences, medical and other. He had not been long\nin the town before he heard of the leprosy with which God had\nafflicted the King, and of the failure of the physicians and men\nof science to cure him; whereupon he passed the night in study;\nand when the day broke and the morning appeared and shone, he\ndonned his richest apparel and went in to the King and kissing\nthe ground before him, wished him enduring honour and fair\nfortune, in the choicest words at his command. Then he told him\nwho he was and said to him, \"O King, I have learnt what has\nbefallen thee in thy person and how a multitude of physicians\nhave failed to find a means of ridding thee of it: but I will\ncure thee, O King, and that without giving thee to drink of\nmedicine or anointing thee with ointment.\" When the King heard\nthis, he wondered and said to him, \"How wilt thou do this? By\nAllah, if thou cure me, I will enrich thee, even to thy\nchildren's children, and I will heap favours on thee, and\nwhatever thou desirest shalt be shine, and thou shalt be my\ncompanion and my friend.\" Then he gave him a dress of honour and\nmade much of him, saying, \"Wilt thou indeed cure me without drugs\nor ointment?\" \"Yes,\" answered Douban, \"I will cure thee from\nwithout.\" Whereat the King marvelled exceedingly and said, \"O\nphysician, when wilt thou do as thou hast said? Make haste, O my\nson!\" Quoth Douban, \"I hear and obey: it shall be done tomorrow.\"\nAnd he went down into the city and hired a house, in which he\ndeposited his books and medicines. Then he took certain drugs and\nsimples and fashioned them into a mall, which he hollowed out and\nmade thereto a handle and a ball, adapted to it by his art. Next\nmorning he presented himself before the King and kissing the\nground before him, ordered him to repair to the tilting ground\nand play at mall there. So the King mounted and repaired thither\nwith his amirs and chamberlains and viziers, and hardly had he\nreached the appointed place when the physician Douban came up and\npresented him with the mall and ball he had prepared, saying,\n\"Take this mall and grip the handle thus and drive into the plain\nand stretch thyself well and strike this ball till thy hand and\nthy body sweat, when the drugs will penetrate thy hand and\npermeate thy body. When thou hast done and the medicine has\nentered into thee, return to thy palace and enter the bath and\nwash. Then sleep awhile and thou wilt awake cured, and peace be\non thee!\" The King took the mall and mounting a swift horse,\nthrew the ball before him and drove after it with all his might\nand smote it: and his hand gripped the mall firmly. And he ceased\nnot to drive after the bail and strike it, till his hand and all\nhis body sweated, and Douban knew that the drugs had taken effect\nupon him and ordered him to return and enter the bath at once. So\nthe King returned immediately and ordered the bath to be emptied\nfor him. They turned the people out of the bath, and his servants\nand attendants hastened thither and made him ready change of\nlinen and all that was necessary: and he went in and washed\nhimself well and put on his clothes. Then he came out of the bath\nand went up to his palace and slept there. When he awoke, he\nlooked at his body and found it clean as virgin silver, having no\ntrace left of the leprosy: whereat he rejoiced exceedingly and his\nbreast expanded with gladness. Next morning, he repaired to the\nDivan and sat down on his chair of estate, and the chamberlains\nand grandees attended on him. Presently, the physician Douban\npresented himself and kissed the earth before the king and\nrepeated the following verses:\n\nThe virtues all exalted are, when thou art styled their sire:\n     None else the title dares accept, of all that men admire.\nLord of the radiant brow, whose light dispels the mists of doubt\n     From every goal of high emprize whereunto folk aspire,\nNe'er may thy visage cease to shine with glory and with joy,\n     Although the face of Fate should gloom with unremitting ire!\nEven as the clouds pour down their dews upon the thirsting hills,\n     Thy grace pours favour on my head, outrunning my desire.\nWith liberal hand thou casteth forth thy bounties far and nigh,\n     And so hast won those heights of fame thou soughtest to\n     acquire.\n\nThe King rose to him in haste and embraced him and made him sit\ndown and clad him in a splendid dress of honour. Then tables of\nrich food were brought in, and Douban ate with the King and\nceased not to bear him company all that day. When it was night,\nthe King gave him two thousand diners, besides other presents,\nand mounted him on his own horse; and the physician returned to\nhis lodging, leaving the King astonished at his skill and saying,\n\"This man cured me from without, without using ointments. By\nAllah, this is none other than consummate skill! And it behoves\nme to honour and reward him and make him my companion and bosom\nfriend to the end of time.\" The King passed the night in great\ncontent, rejoicing in the soundness of his body and his\ndeliverance from his malady. On the morrow, he went out and sat\ndown on his throne; and the grandees stood before him, whilst the\namirs and viziers sat on his right hand and on his left. Then he\nsent for the physician, who came and kissed the ground before\nhim, whereupon the King rose to him and made him sit by his side\nand eat with him, and ceased not to converse with him and make\nmuch of him till night; when he commanded five dresses of honour\nand a thousand diners to be given to him, and he returned to his\nhouse, well contented with the King. Next morning, the King\nrepaired as usual to his council-chamber, and the amirs and\nviziers and chamberlains took their places round him. Now he had\namong his viziers one who was forbidding of aspect, sordid,\navaricious and envious: a man of ill omen, naturally inclined to\nmalevolence: and when he saw the esteem in which the King held\nDouban and the favours he bestowed on him, he envied him and\nplotted evil against him; for, as says the byword, \"Nobody is\nfree from envy\"--and again--\"Tyranny is latent in the soul:\nweakness hides it and strength reveals it.\" So he came to the\nKing and kissed the earth before him and said to him \"O King of\nthe age, thou in whose bounties I have grown up, I have a grave\nwarning to give thee, which did I conceal from thee, I were a son\nof shame: wherefore, if thou command me to impart it to thee, I\nwill do so.\" Quoth the King (and indeed the Vizier's words\ntroubled him), \"What is thy warning?\" \"O illustrious King,\"\nanswered the Vizier, \"the ancients have a saying, 'Whoso looks\nnot to the issue of events, fortune is no friend of his :' and\nindeed I see the King in other than the right way, in that he\nfavours his enemy, who seeks the downfall of his kingdom, and\nmakes much of him and honours him exceedingly and is beyond\nmeasure familiar with him: and of a truth I am fearful for the\nKing.\" Quoth King Younan (and indeed he was troubled and his\ncolour changed), \"Of whom dost thou speak?\" The Vizier answered,\n\"If thou sleepest, awake. I mean the physician Douban.\" \"Out on\nthee!\" said the King. \"He is my true friend and the dearest of\nall men to me; seeing that he medicined me by means of a thing I\nheld in my hand and cured me of my leprosy, which the doctors\nwere unable to cure; and there is not his like to be found in\nthis time, no, not in the whole world, East nor West; and it is\nof him that thou speakest thus! But from to-day I will assign him\nstipends and allowances and appoint him a thousand diners a\nmonth: and if I should share my kingdom with him, it were but a\nlittle thing. Methinks thou sayest this out of pure envy and\nwouldst have me kill him and after repent, as King Sindbad\nrepented the killing of his falcon.\" \"Pardon me, O King of the\nage,\" said the Vizier, \"but how was that! Quoth the King, \"It is\nsaid that\n\n\n\n\nKing Sindbad and His Falcon.\n\n\n\nThere was once a King of Persia, who delighted in hunting; and he\nhad reared a falcon, that left him not day or night, but slept\nall night long, perched upon his hand. Whenever he went out to\nhunt, he took the falcon with him; and he let make for it a cup\nof gold to hang round its neck, that he might give it to drink\ntherein. One day, his chief falconer came in to him and said, 'O\nKing, now is the time to go a-hunting.' So the King gave orders\naccordingly and took the falcon on his wrist and set out,\naccompanied by his officers and attendants. They rode on till\nthey reached a valley, where they formed the circle of the chase,\nand behold, a gazelle entered the ring; whereupon quoth the King,\n'Whoso lets the gazelle spring over his head, I will kill him.'\nThen they drew the ring closelier round her, and behold, she came\nto the King's station and standing still, put her forelegs to her\nbreast, as if to kill the earth before him. He bowed to her, but\nshe sprang over his head and was off into the desert. The King\nsaw his attendants nodding and winking to one another about him\nand said to his Vizier, 'O Vizier, what say my men?' 'They say,'\nanswered the Vizier,  that thou didst threaten to kill him over\nwhose head the gazelle should spring.' 'As my head liveth,'\nrejoined the King, 'I will follow her up, till I bring her back!'\nSo he pricked on after her and followed her till he came to a\nmountain and she made for her lair; but the King cast off the\nfalcon, which swooped down on her and pecked at her eyes, till he\nblinded her and dazed her; whereupon the King threw his mace at\nher and brought her down. Then he alighted and cut her throat and\nskinned her and made her fast to his saddle-bow. Now it was the\nhour of midday rest and the place, where he was, was desert, and\nthe King was athirst and so was his horse. So he searched till he\nsaw a tree, with water dripping slowly, like oil, from its\nbranches. Now the King's hands were gloved with leather;[FN#19]\nso he took the cup from the falcon's neck and filled it with the\nliquid and set it before himself, when behold, the falcon smote\nthe cup and overturned it. The King took it and refilled it with\nthe falling drops and set it before the bird, thinking that it\nwas athirst: but it smote it again and overturned it. At this,\nthe King was vexed with the falcon and rose and filled the cup a\nthird time and set it before the horse: but the falcon again\noverturned it with its wing. Then said the King, 'God confound\nthee, thou most mischievous of fowls, thou wilt neither drink\nthyself nor let me nor the horse drink!' And he smote it with his\nsword and cut off its wings: whereupon it erected its head and\nmade signs as who should say, 'Look what is at the top of the\ntree.' The King raised his eyes and saw at the top of the tree a\nbrood of snakes, and this was their venom dripping, which he had\ntaken for water. So he repented him of having cut off the\nfalcon's wings and mounting, rode on till he reached his tents\nand gave the gazelle to the cook to roast. Then he sat down on\nhis chair, with the falcon on his wrist: and presently the bird\ngasped and died: whereupon the King cried out in sorrow and\nlament for having slain the bird that had saved him from death,\nand repented him when repentance availed him not. This, then, is\nthe story of King Sindbad; and as for thee, O Vizier, envy hath\nentered into thee, and thou wouldst have me kill the physician\nand after repent, even as King Sindbad repented.\" \"O mighty\nKing,\" answered the Vizier, \"what harm has this physician done me\nthat I should wish his death? Indeed I only do this thing in\ncompassion for thee and that thou mayst know the truth of the\nmatter: else may I perish as perished the Vizier who plotted to\ndestroy the king his master's son.\" \"How was that? asked the\nKing, and the Vizier replied, \"Know, O King, that\n\n\n\n\nThe King's Son and the Ogress.\n\n\n\nThere was once a King's son who was passionately fond of the\nchase; and his father had charged one of his Viziers to attend\nhim wherever he went. One day, the prince went out to hunt,\naccompanied by the Vizier, and as they were going along, they saw\na great wild beast, whereupon the Vizier said to the prince, 'Up\nand after yonder beast!' So the prince rode after the beast and\nfollowed it, till he was lost to sight. After awhile, the beast\ndisappeared in the desert, and the prince found himself alone,\nnot knowing which way to turn. Presently he came upon a damsel,\nweeping, and said to her, 'Who art thou?' Quoth she, 'I am the\ndaughter of one of the Kings of India, and I was journeying\nthrough this country, with a company of people, when sleep\novercame me and I fell from my horse, not knowing what I did. My\npeople did not note my fall and went on and left me; and now I am\nalone and bewildered.' When the prince heard this, he had pity on\nher case and took her up behind himself and they rode on, till\nthey came to some ruins; when she said to him, 'O my lord, I wish\nto do an occasion here.' So he put her down, and she entered the\nruins and tarried there till he became impatient and went in\nsearch of her; when he was ware that she was an ogress, and heard\nher say to her children, 'O my children, I have brought you to\nday a fat youth.' 'O mother,' answered they, 'bring him to us,\nthat we may browse on him our bellyful.' When the prince heard\nthis their talk, he trembled in every nerve and made sure of\ndestruction and turned back. The ogress came out after him and\nfinding him terrified and trembling, said to him, 'Why dost thou\nfear?' Quoth he, 'I have an enemy, of whom I am in fear.' 'Didst\nthou not say that thou wast a King's son?' asked she, and he\nanswered 'Yes.' 'Then,'said she, 'why dost thou not give thine\nenemy money and so appease him?' He replied, 'Indeed he will not\nbe satisfied with money nor with aught but life; and I fear him\nand am an oppressed man.' 'If thou be oppressed as thou sayst,'\nrejoined she, 'ask help of God; surely He will protect thee from\nthine enemy and from the mischief thou fearest from him.' So the\nprince raised his eyes to heaven and said, 'O Thou that answerest\nthe prayer of the distressed, when they call on Thee, and\ndispellest evil from them, O my God, succour me against mine\nenemy and turn him back from me, for Thou indeed canst do\nwhatsoever Thou wilt.' When the ogress heard his prayer, she\ndeparted from him and he resumed to the King his father and\ninformed him of the Vizier's conduct: whereupon the King sent for\nthe latter and put him to death. And thou, O King\" (continued the\nenvious Vizier), \"if thou put thy trust in this physician, he\nwill kill thee in the foulest fashion. He, verily, whom thou hast\nfavoured and admitted to thy friendship, plots thy destruction:\nfor know that he is a spy come from a far land with intent to\ndestroy thee. Seest thou not that he cured thee of thy distemper\nfrom without, by means of a thing held in thy hand, and how canst\nthou be sure that he will not kill thee by some like means?\"\n\"Thou speakest sooth, O Vizier of good counsel!\" said the King.\n\"It must indeed be as thou sayst; this physician doubtless comes\nas a spy, seeking to destroy me; and indeed, if he could cure me\nby means of a handle held in my hand, he can kill me by means of\nsomething I shall smell. But what is to be done with him?\" \"Send\nafter him at once,\" answered the Vizier, \"and when he comes,\nstrike off his head and play him false, ere he play thee false;\nand so shalt thou ward off his mischief and be at peace from\nhim.\" \"Thou art right, O Vizier,\" rejoined the King and sent for\nthe physician, who came, rejoicing, for he knew not what the\nCompassionate had decreed unto him. As the saying runs:\n\nThou that fearest ill fortune, be of good heart and hope! Trust\n     thine affairs to Him who fashioned the earth and sea!\nWhat is decreed of God surely shall come to pass; That which is\n     not decreed never shall trouble thee.\n\nWhen Douban entered, he recited the following verses:\n\nIf all the thanks I speak come short of that which is your due,\n     Say for whom else my verse and prose I make except for you?\nYou have indeed prevented me with many an unasked boon, Blest me,\n     unhindered of excuse, with favours not a few.\nHow then should I omit to give your praise its full desert And\n     celebrate with heart and voice your goodness ever new?\nI will indeed proclaim aloud the boons I owe to you, Favours,\n     that, heavy to the hack, are light the thought unto.\n\nAnd also the following:\n\nAvert thy face from trouble and from care And trust in God to\n     order thine affair.\nRejoice in happy fortune near at hand, In which thou shalt forget\n     the woes that were.\nFull many a weary and a troublous thing Is, in its issue,\n     solaceful and fair.\nGod orders all according to His will: Oppose Him not in what He\n     doth prepare.\n\nAnd these also:\n\nTrust thine affairs to the Subtle, to God that knoweth all, And\n     rest at peace from the world, for nothing shall thee appal.\nKnow that the things of the world not, as thou wilt, befall, But\n     as the Great God orders, to whom all kings are thrall!\n\nAnd lastly these:\n\nTake heart and rejoice and forget thine every woe, For even the\n     wit of the wise is eaten away by care.\nWhat shall thought-taking profit a helpless, powerless slave?\n     Leave it and be at peace in joy enduring fore'er!\n\n\nWhen he had finished, the King said to him, \"Dost thou know why I\nhave sent for thee?\" And the physician answered, \"None knoweth\nthe hidden things save God the Most High.\" Quoth the King, \"I\nhave sent for thee to kill thee and put an end to thy life.\"\nDouban wondered greatly at these words and said, \"O King,\nwherefore wilt thou kill me and what offence have I committed?\"\n\"I am told,\" replied Younan, \"that thou art a spy and comest to\nkill me, but I will kill thee first.\" Then he cried out to his\nswordbearer, saying, \"Strike off the head of this traitor and rid\nus of his mischief!\" \"Spare me,\" said Douban; \"so may God spare\nthee; and kill me not, lest God kill thee!\" And he repeated these\nwords to him, even as I did to thee, O Afrit, and thou wouldst\nnot spare me, but persistedst in thine intent to put me to death.\nThen the King said to Douban, \"Verily I shall not be secure\nexcept I kill thee: for thou curedst me by means of a handle I\nheld in my hand, and I have no assurance but thou wilt kill me by\nmeans of perfumes or otherwise.\" \"O King,\" said Douban, \"is this\nmy reward from thee? Thou returnest evil for good?\" The King\nreplied, \"It boots not: thou must die and that without delay.\"\nWhen the physician saw that the King was irrevocably resolved to\nkill him, he wept and lamented the good he had done to the\nundeserving, blaming himself for having sown in an ungrateful\nsoil and repeating the following verses:\n\nMaimouneh has no wit to guide her by, Although her sire among the\nwise ranks high.\nThe man, who has no sense to rule his steps, Slips, he the ground\nhe treads on wet or dry.\n\nThen the swordbearer came forward and bandaged his eyes and\nbaring his sword, said to the King, \"Have I thy leave to strike?\"\nWhereupon the physician wept and said, \"Spare me, so God may\nspare thee: and kill me not, lest God kill thee!\" And he recited\nthe following verses:\n\nI acted in good faith and they betrayed: I came to nought: They\n     prospered, whilst my loyalty brought me to evil case.\nIf that I live, I will to none good counsel give again: And if I\n     die, good counsellors be curst of every race!\n\nAnd he said to the King, \"Is this my reward from thee? Thou\ngivest me the crocodile's recompense.\" Quoth the King, \"What is\nthe story of the crocodile?\" \"I cannot tell it,\" answered Douban,\n\"and I in this case; but, God on thee, spare me, so may He spare\nthee!\" And he wept sore. Then one of the King's chief officers\nrose and said, \"O King, grant me this man's life, for we see not\nthat he has committed any offence against thee nor that he has\ndone aught but cure thee of thy disorder, which baffled the\ndoctors and sages.\" \"Ye know not why I put him to death,\"\nanswered the King: \"it is because I believe him to be a spy, who\nhath been suborned to kill me and came hither with that intent:\nand verily he who cured me by means of a handle held in my hand\ncan easily poison me in like manner. If I spare him, he will\ninfallibly destroy me: so needs must I kill him, and then I shall\nfeel myself safe.\" When the physician was convinced that there\nwas no hope for him, but that the King would indeed put him to\ndeath, he said to the latter, \"O King, if thou must indeed kill\nme, grant me a respite, that I may go to my house and discharge\nmy last duties and dispose of my medical books and give my people\nand friends directions for my burial. Among my books is one that\nis a rarity of rarities, and I will make thee a present of it,\nthat thou mayst lay it up in thy treasury.\" \"And what is in this\nbook?\" asked the King. Quoth Douban, \"It contains things without\nnumber: the least of its secret virtues is that if, when thou\nhast cut off my head, thou open the book, turn over six leaves\nand read three lines of the left-hand page, my head will speak\nand answer whatever questions thou shalt ask it.\" At this the\nKing marvelled greatly and shook with delight and said, \"O\nphysician, will thy head indeed speak to me, after it is cut\noff?\" And he answered, \"Yes, O King.\" Quoth the King, \"This is\nindeed wonderful!\" And sent him under guard to his house, where\nDouban spent the remainder of the day in setting his affairs in\norder. Next day, the amirs and viziers and chamberlains and all\nthe great officers and notables of the kingdom came to the court,\nand the presence chamber was like a flower garden. Presently the\nphysician entered, bearing an old book and a small pot full of\npowder; and sitting down, called for a dish. So they brought him\na dish, and he poured the powder therein and levelled it. Then he\nsaid, \"O King, take this book, but do not open it till my head\nhas been cut off, placed on this dish and pressed down on the\npowder, when the blood will cease to flow: then open the book and\ndo as I have enjoined thee.\" The King took the book and gave the\nsignal to the headsman, who rose and struck off the physician's\nhead and set it on the dish, pressing it down upon the powder,\nwhen the blood immediately ceased to flow, and the head unclosed\nits eyes and said, \"Open the book, O King!\" Younan opened the\nbook and found the leaves stuck together; so he put his finger to\nhis mouth and took of his spittle and loosened them therewith and\nturned over the pages in this manner, one after another, for the\nleaves would not come apart but with difficulty, till he came to\nthe seventh page, but found nothing written thereon and said to\nthe head, \"O physician, there is nothing here.\" Quoth the head,\n\"Open more leaves.\" So the King turned over more leaves in the\nsame manner. Now the book was as poisoned, and before long the\npoison began to work upon the King, and he fell back in\nconvulsions and cried out, \"I am poisoned!\" Whereupon the head\nrepeated the following verses:\n\nLo, these once were kings who governed with a harsh and haughty\n     sway! In a little, their dominion was as if it ne'er had\n     been.\nHad they swayed the sceptre justly, they had been repaid the\n     like, But they were unjust, and Fortune guerdoned them with\n     dole and teen.\nNow they're passed away, the moral of their case bespeaks them\n     thus, \"This is what your sins have earnt you: Fate is not to\n     blame, I ween.\"\n\nNo sooner had it done speaking, than the King fell down dead and\nthe head also ceased to live. And know, O Afrit (continued the\nfisherman), that if King Younan had spared the physician Douban,\nGod would have spared him; but he refused and sought his death;\nso God killed him. And thou, O Afrit, if thou hadst spared me, I\nwould spare thee; but nothing would serve thee but thou must put\nme to death; so now I will kill thee by shutting thee up in this\nvessel and throwing thee into the sea.' At this the Marid roared\nout and said, 'God on thee, O fisherman, do not do that! Spare me\nand bear me not malice for what I did, for men's wit is still\nbetter than that of Jinn. If I did evil, do thou good, in\naccordance with the adage, \"O thou that dost good to him that\ndoes evil, the deed of the evil-doer suffices him.\" Do not thou\ndeal with me as did Umameh with Aatikeh.' 'And what did Umameh\nwith Aatikeh?' asked the fisherman. But the Afrit answered, 'This\nis no time to tell stories, and I in this duresse: let me out,\nand I will tell thee.' Quoth the fisherman, 'Leave this talk: I\nmust and will throw thee into the sea, and thou shalt never win\nout again; for I besought thee and humbled myself to thee, but\nnothing would serve thee but thou must kill me, who had committed\nno offence against thee deserving this nor done thee any ill, but\nonly kindness, in that I delivered thee from duresse. When thou\ndidst thus by me, I knew thee for an incorrigible evil-doer; and\nknow that, when I have thrown thee back into the sea, I will tell\nevery one what happened between me and thee and warn him, to the\nend that whoever fishes thee up may throw thee in again; and thou\nshalt remain in the sea till the end of time and suffer all\nmanner of torments.' Quoth the Afrit, 'Let me out, for this is\nthe season of generosity; and I will make a compact with thee\nnever to do thee hurt and to help thee to what shall enrich\nthee.' The fisherman accepted his proposal and unsealed the\nvessel, after he had taken the Afrit's pledge and made him swear\nby the Most High Name never to hurt him, but on the contrary to\ndo him service. Then the smoke ascended as before and gathered\nitself together and became an Afrit, who gave the vessel a kick\nand sent it into the sea. When the fisherman saw this, he let fly\nin his clothes and gave himself up for lost, saying, 'This bodes\nno good.' But he took courage and said to the Afrit, 'O Afrit,\nquoth God the Most High, \"Be ye faithful to your covenants, for\nthey shall be enquired of:\" and verily thou madest a pact with me\nand sworest to me that thou wouldst do me no hurt. So play me not\nfalse, lest God do the like with thee: for indeed He is a jealous\nGod, who delayeth to punish, yet letteth not the evil-doer\nescape. And I say to thee, as said the physician Douban to King\nYounan, \"Spare me, so God may spare thee!\"' The Afrit laughed and\nstarted off inland, saying to the fisherman, 'Follow me.' So he\nfollowed him, trembling and not believing that he should escape,\nand the Afrit led him to the backward of the town: then crossing\na hill, descended into a spacious plain, in the midst of which\nwas a lake of water surrounded by four little hills. He led the\nfisherman into the midst of the lake, where he stood still and\nbade him throw his net and fish. The fisherman looked into the\nwater and was astonished to see therein fish of four colours,\nwhite and red and blue and yellow. Then he took out his net and\ncast and drawing it in, found in it four fish, one of each\ncolour. At this he rejoiced, and the Afrit said to him, 'Carry\nthem to the Sultan and present them to him, and he will give thee\nwhat shall enrich thee. And accept my excuse, for I know not any\nother way to fulfil my pro mise to thee, having lain in yonder\nsea eighteen hundred years and never seen the surface of the\nearth till this time. But do not fish here more than once a day;\nand I commend thee to God's care!' So saying, he struck the earth\nwith his foot, and it opened and swallowed him up, whilst the\nfisherman returned, wondering at all that had befallen him, to\nhis house, where he took a bowl of water and laid therein the\nfish, which began to frisk about. Then he set the bowl on his\nhead and going up to the palace, as the Afrit had bidden him,\npresented the fish to the King, who wondered at them greatly, for\nthat he had never seen their like, in shape or kind, and said to\nhis Vizier, 'Give these fish to the cookmaid that the King of the\nGreeks sent us, and tell her to fry them.' Now this was a damsel\nthat he had received as a present from the King of the Greeks\nthree days before and of whom he had not yet made trial in\ncookery. So the Vizier carried the fish to the cookmaid and said\nto her, 'These fish have been brought as a present to the Sultan\nand he says to thee, \"O my tear, I have reserved thee against my\nstress!\" So do thou show us to-day thy skill and the excellence\nof thy cookery.' Then he returned to the Sultan, who bade him\ngive the fisherman four hundred diners. So he gave them to him\nand he took the money in his lap and set off home, running and\nstumbling and falling and rising again and thinking that he was\ndreaming. And he bought what was needful for his family and\nreturned to his wife, glad and happy. Meanwhile the cookmaid took\nthe fish and cleaned them and set the frying-pan on the fire.\nThen she poured in oil of sesame and waited till it was hot, when\nshe put in the fish. As soon as one side was done, she fumed\nthem, when lo, the wall of the kitchen opened and out came a\nhandsome and well-shaped young lady, with smooth cheeks and\nliquid black eyes.[FN#20] She was clad in a tunic of satin,\nyarded with spangles of Egyptian gold, and on her head she had a\nsilken kerchief, fringed with blue. She wore rings in her ears\nand bracelets on her wrists and rings on her fingers, with\nbeazels of precious stones, and held in her hand a rod of Indian\ncane. She came up to the brazier and thrust the rod into the\nfrying-pan saying 'O fish, are you constant to your covenant?'\nAnd when the cookmaid heard this she swooned away. Then the\ndamsel repeated her question a second and a third time; and the\nfish lifted up their heads and cried out with one voice, 'Yes,\nyes:\n\nReturn, and we return: keep faith, and so will we: Or, if thou\n     wilt, forsake, and we'll do like to thee!'\n\nWith this the damsel overturned the frying-pan and went out by\nthe way she had come, and the wall closed up again as before.\nPresently the cookmaid came to herself and seeing the four fish\nburnt black as coal, said, 'My arms are broken in my first\nskirmish!' And fell down again in a swoon. Whilst she was in this\nstate, in came the Vizier, to seek the fish, and found her\ninsensible, not knowing Saturday from Thursday. So he stirred her\nwith his foot and she came to herself and wept and told him what\nhad passed. He marvelled and said, 'This is indeed a strange\nthing !' Then he sent for the fisherman and said to him, 'O\nfisherman, bring us four more fish of the same kind.' So the\nfisherman repaired to the lake and cast his net and hauling it\nin, found in it four fish like the first and carried them to the\nVizier, who took them to the cookmaid and said to her, 'Come, fry\nthem before me, that I may see what happens.' So she cleaned the\nfish and setting the frying-pan on the fire, threw them into it:\nand they had not lain long before the wall opened and the damsel\nappeared, after the same fashion, and thrust the rod into the\npan, saying, 'O fish, O fish, are you constant to the old\ncovenant?' And behold the fish all lifted up their heads and\ncried out as before, 'Yes, yes:\n\nReturn, and we return: keep faith, and so will we: Or, if thou\n     wilt, forsake, and we'll do like to thee!'\n\nThen she overturned the pan and went out as she had come and the\nwall closed up again. When the Vizier saw this, he said, 'This is\na thing that must not be kept from the King. So he went to him\nand told him what he had witnessed; and the King said, 'I must\nsee this with my own eyes.' Then he sent for the fisherman and\ncommanded him to bring him other four fish like the first; and\nthe fisherman went down at once to the lake and casting his net,\ncaught other four fish and returned with them to the King, who\nordered him other four hundred diners and set a guard upon him\ntill he should see what happened. Then he turned to the Vizier\nand said to him, 'Come thou and fry the fish before me.' Quoth\nthe Vizier, 'I hear and obey.' So he fetched the frying-pan and\nsetting it on the fire, cleaned the fish and threw them in: but\nhardly had he turned them, when the wall opened, and out came a\nblack slave, as he were a mountain or one of the survivors of the\ntribe of Aad,[FN#21] with a branch of a green tree in his hand:\nand he said, in a terrible voice, 'O fish, O fish, are you\nconstant to the old covenant?' Whereupon they lifted up their\nheads and cried out' 'Yes, yes; we are constant:\n\nReturn, and we return: keep faith, and so will we: Or, if thou\n     wilt,  forsake, and we'll do like to thee!'\n\nThen the slave went up to the pan and overturning it with the\nbranch, went out as he had come, and the wall closed up as\nbefore. The King looked at the fish and found them black as coal;\nwhereat he was bewildered and said to the Vizier, 'This is a\nthing about which it is impossible to keep silence; and indeed\nthere must be some strange circumstance connected with these\nfish.' Then he sent for the fisherman and said to him, 'Hark ye,\nsirrah, whence hadst thou those fish?' 'From a lake between four\nhills,' answered he, 'on the thither side of the mountain behind\nthe city.' 'How many days' journey hence?' asked the King; and\nthe fisherman said, 'O my lord Sultan, half an hour's journey.'\nAt this the King was astonished and ordering the troops to mount,\nset out at once, followed by his suite and preceded by the\nfisherman, who began to curse the Afrit. They rode on over the\nmountain and descended into a wide plain, that they had never\nbefore set eyes on, whereat they were all amazed. Then they fared\non till they came to the lake lying between the four hills and\nsaw the fish therein of four colours, red and white and yellow\nand blue. The King stood and wondered and said to his attendants,\n'Has any one of you ever seen this lake before?' But they\nanswered, 'Never did we set eyes on it in all our lives, O King\nof the age.' Then he questioned those stricken in years, and they\nmade him the same answer. Quoth he, 'By Allah, I will not return\nto my capital nor sit down on my chair of estate till I know the\nsecret of this pond and its fish!' Then he ordered his people to\nencamp at the foot of the hills and called his Vizier, who was a\nman of learning and experience, sagacious and skilful in\nbusiness, and said to him, 'I mean to go forth alone to-night and\nenquire into the matter of the lake and these fish: wherefore do\nthou sit down at the door of my pavilion and tell the amirs and\nviziers and chamberlains and officers and all who ask after me\nthat the Sultan is ailing and hath ordered thee to admit no one,\nand do thou acquaint none with my purpose.' The Vizier dared not\noppose his design; so the King disguised himself and girt on his\nsword and going forth privily, took a path that led over one of\nthe hills and fared on all that night and the next day, till the\nheat overcame him and he paused to rest. Then he set out again\nand fared on the rest of that day and all the next night, till on\nthe morning of the second day, he caught sight of some black\nthing in the distance, whereat he rejoiced and said, 'Belike I\nshall find some one who can tell me the secret of the lake and\nthe fish.' So he walked on, till he came to the black object,\nwhen he found it a palace built of black stone, plated with iron;\nand one leaf of its gate was open and the other shut. At this the\nKing rejoiced and went up to the gate and knocked lightly, but\nheard no answer. So he knocked a second time and a third time,\nwith the same result. Then he knocked loudly, but still no one\nanswered; and he said to himself, 'It must be deserted.' So he\ntook courage and entering the vestibule, cried out, 'Ho, people\nof the palace! I am a stranger and a wayfarer and hungry. Have ye\nany victual?' He repeated these words a second and a third time,\nbut none answered. So he took heart and went on boldly into the\ninterior of the palace, which he found hung and furnished with\nsilken stuffs, embroidered with stars of gold, and curtains let\ndown before the doors. In the midst was a spacious courtyard,\nwith four estrades, one on each side, and a bench of stone.\nMidmost the courtyard was a great basin of water, from which\nsprang a fountain, and at the corners stood four lions of red\ngold, spouting forth water as it were pearls and jewels; and the\nplace was full of birds, which were hindered from flying away by\na network of gold stretched overhead. The King looked right and\nleft, but there was no one to be seen; whereat he marvelled and\nwas vexed to find none of whom he might enquire concerning the\nlake and the fish and the palace itself. So he returned to the\nvestibule and sitting down between the doors, fell to musing upon\nwhat he had seen, when lo, he heard a moaning that came from a\nsorrowful heart, and a voice chanted the following verses:\n\nI hid what I endured from thee: it came to light, And sleep was\n     changed to wake thenceforward to my sight.\nO Fate, thou sparest not nor dost desist from me; Lo, for my\n     heart is racked with dolour and affright!\nHave pity, lady mine, upon the great laid low, Upon the rich made\n     poor by love and its despite!\nOnce, jealous of the breeze that blew on thee, I was, Alas! on\n     whom Fate falls, his eyes are veiled with night.\nWhat boots the archer's skill, if, when the foe draws near, His\n     bow-string snap and leave him helpless in the fight?\nSo when afflictions press upon the noble mind, Where shall a man\n     from Fate and Destiny take flight?\n\nWhen the King heard this, he rose and followed the sound and\nfound that it came from behind a curtain let down before the\ndoorway of a sitting-chamber. So he raised the curtain and saw a\nyoung man seated upon a couch raised a cubit from the ground. He\nwas a handsome well-shaped youth, with flower-white forehead and\nrosy cheeks and a black mole, like a grain of ambergris, on the\ntable of his cheek, as says the poet:\n\nThe slender one! From his brow and the night of his jetty hair,\n     The world in alternate gloom and splendour of day doth fare.\nBlame not the mole on his cheek. Is an anemone's cup Perfect,\n     except in its midst an eyelet of black it wear?\n\nHe was clad in a robe of silk, laced with Egyptian gold, and had\non his head a crown set with jewels, but his face bore traces of\naffliction. The King rejoiced when he saw him and saluted him;\nand the youth returned his salute in the most courteous wise,\nthough without rising, and said to him, 'O my lord, excuse me if\nI do not rise to thee, as is thy due; indeed, I am unable to do\nso.' 'I hold thee excused, O youth!' answered the King. 'I am thy\nguest and come to thee on a pressing errand, beseeching thee to\nexpound to me the mystery of the lake and the fish and of this\npalace, and why thou sittest here alone and weeping.' When the\nyoung man heard this, the tears ran down his cheeks and he wept\nsore, till his breast was drenched, and repeated the following\nverses:\n\nSay unto those that grieve, at whom doth Fate her arrows cast,\n     \"How many an one hath she raised up but to lay low at last!\nLo, if ye sleep, the eye of God is never closed in sleep. For\n     whom indeed is life serene, for whom is Fortune fast?\"\n\nThen he gave a heavy sigh and repeated the following:\n\nTrust thine affair to the Ruler of all that be\n     And put thought-taking and trouble away from thee:\nSay not of aught that is past, \"How came it so?\"\n     All things depend upon the Divine decree.\n\nThe King marvelled and said to him, 'What makes thee weep, O\nyouth?' 'How should I not weep,' answered he 'being in such a\nplight?' Then he put out his hand and lifted the skirt of his\nrobe, and behold, he was stone from the waist downward. When the\nKing saw this his condition, he grieved sore and lamented and\ncried out, 'Alas! alas!' and said, 'Verily, O youth, thou addest\ntrouble to my trouble. I came to enquire concerning the fish; and\nnow I am concerned to know thy history also. But there is no\npower and no virtue save in God the Most High, the Supreme!\nHasten therefore, O youth, and expound to me thy story.' Quoth\nthe youth, 'Give me thine ears and understanding:' and the King\nreplied, 'I am all attention.' Then said the youth, 'There hangs\na strange story by these fish and by myself, a story which, were\nit graven with needles on the corners of the eye,[FN#22] would\nserve as a warning to those who can profit by example. 'How so ?'\nasked the King and the youth replied, 'Know, O my lord, that\n\n\n\n\n                 Story of the Enchanted Youth.\n\n\n\nMy father was King of the city that stood in this place, and his\nname was Mohammed, Lord of the Black Islands, which are no other\nthan the four hills of which thou wottest. He reigned seventy\nyears, at the end of which time God took him to Himself, and I\nsucceeded to his throne and took to wife the daughter of my\nfather's brother, who loved me with an exceeding love, so that,\nwhenever I was absent from her, she would neither eat nor drink\ntill she saw me again. With her I lived for five years, till one\nday she went out to go to the bath, and I bade the cook hasten\nsupper for us against her return. Then I entered the palace and\nlay down on the bed where we were wont to lie and ordered two\nslave-girls to sit, one at my head and the other at my feet, and\nfan me. Now I was disturbed at my wife's absence and could not\nsleep, but remained awake, although my eyes were closed.\nPresently I heard the damsel at my head say to the other one, \"O\nMesoudeh, how unhappy is our lord and how wretched is his youth,\nand oh, the pity of him with our accursed harlot of a mistress!\"\n\"Yes, indeed,\" replied Mesoudeh; \"may God curse all unfaithful\nwomen and adulteresses! Indeed, it befits not that the like of\nour lord should waste his youth with this harlot, who lies abroad\nevery night.\" Quoth the other, \"Is our lord then a fool, that,\nwhen he wakes in the night and finds her not by his side, he\nmakes no enquiry after her?\" \"Out on thee,\" rejoined Mesoudeh;\n\"has our lord any knowledge of this or does she leave him any\nchoice? Does she not drug him every night in the cup of drink she\ngives him before he sleeps, in which she puts henbane? So he\nsleeps like a dead man and knows nothing of what happens. Then\nshe dresses and scents herself and goes forth and is absent till\ndaybreak, when she returns and burns a perfume under his nose and\nhe awakes.\" When I heard the girls' talk, the light in my eyes\nbecame darkness, and I thought the night would never come.\nPresently, my wife returned from the bath, and they served up\nsupper and we ate and sat awhile drinking and talking as usual.\nThen she called for my sleeping-draught and gave me the cup: and\nI feigned to drink it, but made shift to pour it into my bosom\nand lay down at once and began to snore as if I slept. Then said\nshe, \"Sleep out thy night and never rise again! By Allah, I hate\nthee and I hate thy person; I am sick of thy company and I know\nnot when God will take away thy life!\" Then she rose and donned\nher richest clothes and perfumed herself and girt on my sword and\nopened the palace gate and went out. I rose and followed her, and\nshe passed through the streets of the city, till she came to the\ngate, when she muttered words I understood not: and straight-way\nthe locks fell off and the gate opened. She went forth and fared\non among the rubbish heaps, I still following her without her\nknowledge, till she came to a reed fence, within which was a hut\nof brick. She entered the hut and I climbed up on the roof and\nlooking down, saw my wife standing by a scurvy black slave, with\nblubber lips, one of which overlapped the other, like a coverlet,\nand swept up the sand from the gravel floor, lying upon a bed of\nsugar-cane refuse and wrapped in an old cloak and a few rags. She\nkissed the earth before him, and he raised his head to her and\nsaid, \"Out on thee! why hast thou tarried till now? There have\nbeen some of my kinsmen the blacks here, drinking; and they have\ngone away, each with his wench; but I refused to drink on account\nof thine absence.\" \"O my lord and my love and solace of my eyes,\"\nanswered she, \"dost thou not know that I am married to my cousin,\nand that I hate to look upon him and abhor myself in his company.\nDid I not fear for thy sake, I would not let the sun rise again\ntill his city was a heap of ruins wherein the owl and the raven\nshould hoot and wolves and foxes harbour; and I would transport\nits stones behind the mountain Caf.\"[FN#23] \"Thou liest, O\naccursed one!\" said the black, \"and I swear by the valour of the\nblacks (else may our manhood be as that of the whites!) that if\nthou tarry again till this hour, I will no longer keep thee\ncompany nor join my body to thine! O accursed one, wilt thou play\nfast and loose with us at thy pleasure, O stinkard, O bitch, O\nvilest of whites?\" When I heard and saw what passed between them,\nthe world grew dark in my eyes and I knew not where I was; whilst\nmy wife stood weeping and humbling herself to him and saying, \"O\nmy love and fruit of my heart, if thou be angry with me, who is\nleft me, and if thou reject me, who shall shelter me, O my\nbeloved and light of mine eyes?\" And she ceased not to weep and\nimplore him till he forgave her. Then she was glad and rose and\nputting off her clothes, said to the slave, \"O my lord, hast thou\naught here for thy handmaid to eat?\" \"Take the cover off yonder\nbasin,\" answered he; \"thou wilt find under it cooked rats' bones,\nand there is a little millet beer left in this pot. Eat and\ndrink.\" So she ate and drank and washed her hands and mouth; then\nlay down, naked, upon the rushes, beside the slave, and covered\nherself with the rags. When I saw this, I became as one\ndistraught and coming down from the roof, went in by the door.\nThen I took the sword she had brought and drew it, thinking to\nkill them both. I struck first at the slave's neck and thought I\nhad made an end of him; but the blow only severed the flesh and\nthe gullet, without dividing the jugulars. He gave a loud\ngurgling groan and roused my wife, whereupon I drew back, after I\nhad restored the sword to its place, and resuming to the palace,\nlay down on my bed till morning, when my wife came and awoke me,\nand I saw that she had cut off her hair and put on mourning\ngarments. \"O my cousin,\" said she, \"do not blame me for this I\nhave done; for I have news that my mother is dead, that my father\nhas fallen in battle and that both my brothers are dead also, one\nof a snake-bite and the other of a fall from a precipice, so that\nI have good reason to weep and lament.\" When I heard this, I did\nnot reproach her, but said to her, \"Do what thou wilt: I will not\nbaulk thee.\" She ceased not to mourn and lament for a whole year,\nat the end of which time she said to me, \"I wish to build me in\nthy palace a tomb with a cupola and set it apart for mourning and\ncall it House of Lamentations.\" Quoth I, \"Do what seemeth good to\nthee.\" So she built herself a house of mourning, roofed with a\ndome, and a monument in the midst like the tomb of a saint.\nThither she transported the slave and lodged him in the tomb. He\nwas exceeding weak and from the day I wounded him he had remained\nunable to do her any service or to speak or do aught but drink;\nbut he was still alive, because his hour was not yet come. She\nused to visit him morning and evening in the mausoleum and carry\nhim wine and broths to drink and weep and make moan over him; and\nthus she did for another year, whilst I ceased not to have\npatience with her and pay no heed to her doings, till one day I\ncame upon her unawares and found her weeping and saying, \"Why art\nthou absent from my sight, O delight of my heart? Speak to me, O\nmy life! speak to me, O my love!\" And she recited the following\nverses:\n\nMy patience fails me for desire: if thou forgettest me, My heart\n     and all my soul can love none other after thee.\nCarry me with thee, body and soul, wherever thou dost fare, And\n     where thou lightest down to rest, there let me buried be.\nSpeak but my name above my tomb; the groaning of my bones,\n     Turning towards thy voice's sound, shall answer drearily.\n\nAnd she wept and recited the following:\n\nMy day of bliss is that whereon thou drawest near to me; And that\n     whereon thou turn'st away, my day of death and fear.\nWhat though I tremble all the night and be in dread of death, Yet\n     thine embraces are to me than safety far more dear.\n\nAnd again the following:\n\nThough unto me were given all that can make life sweet, Though\n     the Chosroes empire, yea, and the world were mine,\nAll were to me in value less than a midge's wing, If that mine\n     eyes must never look on that face of thine!\n\nWhen she had finished, I said to her, \"O my cousin, let thy\nmourning suffice thee: for weeping profiteth nothing.\" She\nreplied, \"Thwart me not, or I will kill myself.\" So I held my\npeace and let her go her way: and she ceased not to mourn and\nweep for the space of another year. At the end of the third year,\nI came into the mausoleum one day, vexed at something that had\ncrossed me and weary of this excessive affliction, and found her\nby the tomb under the dome, saying, \"O my lord, I never hear thee\nspeak to me, no, not one word. Why dost thou not answer me, O my\nlord?\" And she recited the following verses:\n\nO tomb, O tomb, have his beauties ceased, or does thy light\n     indeed, The sheen of the radiant countenance, no more in\n     thee abound?\nO tomb, O tomb, thou art neither earth nor heaven unto me: How\n     comes it then that sun and moon at once in thee are found?\n\nWhen I heard this, it added wrath to my wrath, and I said, \"Alas!\nhow much more of this mourning?\" and I repeated the following\n[parody of her] verses:\n\nO tomb, O tomb, has his blackness ceased, or does thy light\n     indeed, The sheen of the filthy countenance, no more in thee\n     abound?\nO tomb, thou art neither kitchen-stove nor sewer-pool for me! How\n     comes it then that mire and coal at once in thee are found?\n\nWhen she heard this, she sprang to her feet and said, \"Out on\nthee, thou dog! it was thou that didst thus with me and woundedst\nthe beloved of my heart and hast afflicted me and wasted his\nyouth, so that these three years he hath lain, neither dead nor\nalive!\" \"O foulest of harlots and filthiest of whorish doxies of\nhired slaves,\" answered I, \"it was indeed I who did this!\" And I\ndrew my sword and made at her to kill her; but she laughed and\nsaid, \"Avaunt, thou dog! Thinkst thou that what is past can recur\nor the dead come back to life? Verily, God has given into my hand\nhim who did this to me and against whom there was in my heart\nfire that might not be quenched and insatiable rage.\" Then she\nstood up and pronouncing some words I did not understand, said to\nme, \"Let one half of thee by my enchantments become stone and the\nother half remain man.\" And immediately I became as thou seest me\nand have remained ever since neither sitting nor standing and\nneither dead nor alive. Then she enchanted the city with all its\nstreets and gardens and turned it into the lake thou wottest of,\nand the inhabitants, who were of four religions, Muslims,\nChristians, Magians and Jews, she changed to fish of various\ncolours, the Muslims white, the Christians blue, the Magians red\nand the Jews yellow; and the four islands she turned into four\nmountains encompassing the lake. Moreover, the condition to which\nshe has reduced me does not suffice her: but every day she strips\nme and gives me a hundred lashes with a whip, so that the blood\nruns down me and my shoulders are torn. Then she clothes my upper\nhalf in a shirt of hair-cloth and over that she throws these rich\nrobes.' And he wept and repeated the following verses:\n\nLord, I submit myself to Thee and eke to Fate, Content, if so\n     Thou please, to suffer and to wait.\nMy enemies oppress and torture me full sore: But Paradise at\n     last, belike, shall compensate.\nThough Fate press hard on me, I trust in the Elect,[FN#24] The\n     Accepted One of God, to be my advocate.\n\nWith this the King turned to him and said, 'O youth, after having\nrid me of one trouble, thou addest another to me: but tell me,\nwhere is thy wife and where is the wounded slave?' 'The slave\nlies in the tomb under the dome,' answered the youth, 'and she is\nin the chamber over against the gate. Every day at sunrise, she\ncomes out and repairs first to me and strips off my clothes and\ngives me a hundred strokes with the whip; and I weep and cry out,\nbut cannot stir to keep her off. When she has done torturing me,\nshe goes down to the slave with the wine and broth on which she\nfeeds him; and to-morrow at sunrise she will come.' 'O youth,'\nrejoined the King, 'by Allah, I will assuredly do thee a service\nby which I shall be remembered and which men shall chronicle to\nthe end of time!' Then he sat down by the youth and talked with\nhim till nightfall, when they went to sleep. At peep of day, the\nKing rose and put off his clothes and drawing his sword, repaired\nto the mausoleum, where, after noting the paintings of the place\nand the candles and Lamps and perfumes burning there, he sought\nfor the slave till he came upon him and slew him with one blow of\nthe sword; after which he took the body on his back and threw it\ninto a well that was in the palace. Then he returned to the dome\nand wrapping himself in the black's clothes, lay down in his\nplace, with his drawn sword by his side. After awhile, the\naccursed enchantress came out and, going first to her husband,\nstripped him and beat him with the whip, whilst he cried out,\n'Alas! the state I am in suffices me. Have mercy on me, O my\ncousin!' But she replied, 'Didst thou show me any mercy or spare\nmy beloved?' And beat him till she was tired and the blood ran\nfrom his sides. Then she put the hair shirt on him and the royal\nrobes over it, and went down to the dome with a goblet of wine\nand a bowl of broth in her hands. When she came to the tomb, she\nfell a-weeping and wailing and said, 'O my lord, speak to me!'\nAnd repeated the following verse:\n\nHow long ere this rigour pass sway and thou relent? Is it not yet\n     enough of the tears that I have spent?'\n\nAnd she wept and said again, 'O my lord, speak to me!' The King\nlowered his voice and knotting his tongue, spoke after the\nfashion of the blacks and said, 'Alack! alack! there is no power\nand no virtue but in God the Most High the Supreme!' When she\nheard this, she screamed out for joy and swooned away; and when\nshe revived, she said, 'O my lord, can it be true and didst thou\nindeed speak to me?' The King made his voice small and said, 'O\naccursed woman, thou deservest not that I should speak to thee!'\n'Why so?' asked she; and he replied, 'Because all day thou\ntormentest thy husband and his cries disturb me, and all night\nlong he calls upon God for help and invokes curses on thee and me\nand keeps me awake from nightfall to daybreak and disquiets me;\nand but for this, I had been well long ago. This is what has\nhindered me from answering thee.' Quoth she, 'With thy leave, I\nwill release him from his present condition.' 'Do so,' said the\nKing, 'and rid us of his noise.' 'I hear and obey,' answered she,\nand going out into the palace, took a cup full of water and spoke\nover it certain words, whereupon the water began to boil and\nbubble as the cauldron bubbles over the fire. Then she went up to\nthe young King and sprinkled him with it, saying, 'By the virtue\nof the words I have spoken, if thou art thus by my spells, quit\nthis shape for thy former one.' And immediately he shook and rose\nto his feet, rejoicing in his deliverance, and said, 'I testify\nthat there is no god but God and that Mohammed is His apostle,\nmay God bless and preserve him!' Then she said to him, 'Depart\nhence and do not return, or I will kill thee.' And she screamed\nout in his face. So he went out from before her, and she returned\nto the dome and going down into the tomb, said, 'O my lord, come\nforth to me, that I may see thy goodly form!' The King replied in\na weak voice, 'What hast thou done? Thou hast rid me of the\nbranch, but not of the root.' 'O my beloved, O my little black,'\nsaid she, 'what is the root?' 'Out on thee, O accursed one!'\nanswered he. 'Every night, at the middle hour, the people of the\ncity, whom thou by thine enchantments didst change into fish,\nlift up their heads from the water and cry to God for help and\ncurse thee and me; and this is what hinders my recovery: so do\nthou go quickly and set them free, and after return and take me\nby the hand and raise me up; for indeed health returns to me.'\nWhen she heard this speech of the King, whom she supposed to be\nthe slave, she rejoiced and said, 'O my lord, on my head and eyes\nbe it, in the name of God!' Then she went out, full of joy, and\nran to the lake and taking a little of the water in her hand,\nspoke over it words that might not be understood, whereupon there\nwas a great stir among the fish; and they raised their heads to\nthe surface and stood upright and became men as before. Thus was\nthe spell dissolved from the people of the city and the lake\nbecame again a populous city, with its streets and bazaars, in\nwhich the merchants bought and sold, and every one returned to\nhis employment; whilst the four hills were restored to their\noriginal form of islands. Then the enchantress returned to the\nKing and said to him, 'O my lord, give me thy noble hand and\narise.' 'Come nearer to me,' answered he, in a faint voice. So\nshe came close to him, and he took his sword and smote her in the\nbreast, that the steel came forth, gleaming, from her back. He\nsmote her again and cut her in twain, and she fell to the ground\nin two halves. Then he went out and found the young King standing\nawaiting him and gave him joy of his deliverance, whereupon the\nyouth rejoiced and thanked him and kissed his hand. Quoth the\nSultan, 'Wilt thou abide in this thy city or come with me to\nmine?' 'O King of the age,' rejoined he, 'dost thou know how far\nit is from here to thy capital?' And the Sultan replied, 'Two\nand a half days' journey.' 'O King,' said the other, 'if thou\nsleepest, awake! Between thee and thy capital is a full year's\njourney to a diligent traveller; and thou hadst not come hither\nin two days and a half, save that the city was enchanted. But, O\nKing, I will never leave thee, no, not for the twinkling of an\neye!' The Sultan rejoiced at his words and said, 'Praised be God,\nwho hath bestowed thee upon me! Thou shalt be my son, for in all\nmy life I have never been blessed with a son.' And they embraced\neach other and rejoiced with exceeding great joy. Then they\nreturned to the palace, and the young King bade his officers make\nready for a journey and prepare his baggage and all that he\nrequired. The preparations occupied ten days, at the end of which\ntime the young King set out in company of the Sultan, whose heart\nburned within him at the thought of his long absence from his\ncapital, attended by fifty white slaves and provided with\nmagnificent presents. They journeyed day and night for a whole\nyear, and God ordained them safety, till they drew near the\nSultan's capital and sent messengers in advance to acquaint the\nVizier with his safe arrival. Then came out the Vizier and the\ntroops, who had given up all hope of the Sultan's return, and\nkissed the ground before him and gave him joy of his safety. So\nhe entered his palace and sat down on his throne and the Vizier\ncame in to him, to whom he related all that had befallen him with\nthe young King: and the Vizier gave the latter joy of his\ndeliverance. Then all things being set in order, the Sultan gave\nlargesse to many of his people and sending for the fisherman who\nhad brought him the enchanted fish and had thus been the first\ncause of the delivery of the people of the Black Islands,\nbestowed on him a dress of honour and enquired of his condition\nand whether he had any children, to which he replied that he had\nthree children, two daughters and one son. So the King sent for\nthem and taking one daughter to wife, married the other to the\nyoung King and made the son his treasurer. Moreover, he invested\nhis Vizier with the sovereignty of the Black Islands and\ndespatched him thither with the fifty officers, who had\naccompanied the young King thence, giving him robes of honour for\nall the amirs. So the Vizier kissed hands and set out for the\nBlack Islands. The fisherman became the richest man of his time,\nand he and his daughters and the two Kings their husbands abode\nin peace till death came to them.\n\n\n\n\n\n               THE PORTER AND THE THREE LADIES OF\n                            BAGHDAD.\n\n\n\n\nThere was once a porter of Baghdad who was a bachelor. One day,\nas he stood in the market, leant upon his basket, there came to\nhim a lady, swathed in a wrapper of gold embroidered muslin,\nfringed with gold lace, and wearing embroidered boots and\nfloating tresses plaited with silk and gold. She stopped before\nhim and raising her kerchief, showed a pair of languishing black\neyes of perfect beauty, bordered with long drooping lashes. Then\nshe turned to the porter and said, in a clear sweet voice, 'Take\nthy basket and follow me.' No sooner had she spoken than he took\nup his basket in haste, saying, 'O day of good luck! O day of\nGod's grace!' and followed her till she stopped and knocked at\nthe door of a house, when there came out a Nazarene, to whom she\ngave a dinar, and he gave her in return an olive-green bottle,\nfull of wine, which she put into the basket, saying to the\nporter, 'Hoist up and follow me.' Said he, 'By Allah, this is\nindeed a happy and fortunate day!' And shouldering the basket,\nfollowed her till she came to a fruiterer's, where she bought\nSyrian apples and Turkish quinces and Arabian peaches and autumn\ncucumbers and Sultani oranges and citrons, beside jessamine of\nAleppo and Damascus water-lilies and myrtle and basil and\nhenna-blossoms and blood-red anemones and violets and sweet-briar\nand narcissus and camomile and pomegranate flowers, all of which\nshe put into the porter's basket, saying, 'Hoist up!' So he\nshouldered the basket and followed her, till she stopped at a\nbutcher's shop and said to him, 'Cut me off ten pounds of meat.'\nHe gave her the meat, wrapped in a banana leaf, and she put it in\nthe basket, saying, 'Hoist up, O porter!' and went on to a\ngrocer's, of whom she took pistachio kernels and shelled almonds\nand hazel-nuts and walnuts and sugar cane and parched peas and\nMecca raisins and all else that pertains to dessert. Thence to a\npastry-cook's, where she bought a covered dish and put therein\nopen-work tarts and honey-fritters and tri-coloured jelly and\nmarch-pane, flavoured with lemon and melon, and Zeyneb's combs\nand ladies' fingers and Cadi's mouthfuls and widow's bread and\nmeat-and-drink[FN#25] and some of every kind of sweetmeat in the\nshop and laid the dish in the basket of the porter, who said to\nher, 'Thou shouldst have told me, that I might have brought a\nmule or a camel to carry all these good things.' She smiled and\ngave him a tap on the nape, saying, 'Make haste and leave\nchattering and God willing, thou shalt have a good wage.' She\nstopped next at the shop of a druggist, where she bought\nrose-water and water-lily water and orange-flower water and\nwillow-flower water and six other kinds of sweet waters and a\ncasting bottle of rose-water mingled with musk, besides two\nloaves of sugar and frankincense and aloes-wood and ambergris and\nmusk and saffron and candles of Alexandrian wax, all of which she\nput into the basket. Then she went on to a greengrocer's, of whom\nshe bought pickled safflower and olives, in brine and fresh, and\ntarragon and juncates and Syrian cheese and put them all into the\nbasket and said to the porter, 'Take up thy basket and follow\nme.' So he shouldered his load and followed her till she came to\na tall handsome house, with a spacious court before it and a\ntwo-leaved door of ebony, inlaid with plates of glittering gold.\nThe lady went up to the door and throwing back her kerchief,\nknocked softly, whilst the porter stood behind her, musing upon\nher beauty and grace. After awhile the door opened and both the\nleaves swung back; whereupon he looked to see who opened it, and\nbehold, it was a damsel of dazzling beauty and symmetry,\nhigh-bosomed, with flower-white forehead and rosy cheeks, eyes\nlike those of gazelles or wild oxen and eyebrows like the\ncrescent of the new moon of Ramazan[FN#26], cheeks like blood-red\nanemones, mouth like Solomon's seal, lips red as coral and teeth\nlike clustered pearls or camomile-petals, neck like an antelope's\nand bosom like a fountain, breasts like double pomegranates,\nbelly like brocade and navel holding an ounce of benzoin\nointment, even as says of her the poet:\n\nLook at her, with her slender shape and radiant beauty! this Is\n     she who is at once the sun and moon of palaces!\nThine eyes shall ne'er see grace combine so featly black and\n     white As in her visage and the locks that o'er her forehead\n     kiss.\nShe in whose cheeks the red flag waves, her beauty testifies Unto\n     her name, if that to paint her sweet seductions miss.\nWith swimming gait she walks: I laugh for wonder at her hips, But\n     weep to see her waist, that all too slight to bear them is.\n\nWhen the porter saw her, his mind and heart were taken by storm,\nso that he well-nigh let fall the basket and exclaimed, 'Never in\nall my life saw I a more blessed day than this!' Then said the\nportress to the cateress, 'O my Sister, why tarriest thou? Come\nin from the gate and ease this poor man of his burden.' So the\ncateress entered, followed by the portress and the porter, and\nwent on before them to a spacious saloon, elegantly built and\nhandsomely decorated with all manner of colours and carvings and\ngeometrical figures, with balconies and galleries and cupboards\nand benches and closets with curtains drawn before them. In the\nmidst was a great basin of water, from which rose a fountain, and\nat the upper end stood a couch of juniper wood, inlaid with\nprecious stones and surmounted by a canopy of red satin, looped\nup with pearls as big as hazel-nuts or bigger. Thereon sat a lady\nof radiant countenance and gentle and demure aspect, moonlike in\nface, with eyes of Babylonian witchcraft and arched eyebrows,\nsugared lips like cornelian and a shape like the letter I. The\nradiance of her countenance would have shamed the rising sun, and\nshe resembled one of the chief stars of heaven or a pavilion of\ngold or a high-born Arabian bride on the night of her unveiling,\neven as says of her the poet:\n\nHer teeth, when she smiles, like pearls in a cluster show, Or\n     shredded camomile-petals or flakes of snow:\nHer ringlets seem, as it were, the fallen night, And her beauty\n     shames the dawn and its ruddy glow.\n\nThen she rose and coming with a stately gait to meet her sisters\nin the middle of the saloon, said to them, 'Why stand ye still?\nRelieve this poor porter of his burden.' So the cateress came and\nstood before and the portress behind him and with the help of the\nthird damsel, lifted the basket from his head and emptying it,\nlaid everything in its place. Then they gave him two dinars,\nsaying, 'Go, O porter!' But he stood, looking at the ladies and\nadmiring, their beauty and pleasant manners, never had he seen\ngoodlier, and wondering greatly at the profusion of wine and meat\nand fruits and flowers and so forth that they had provided and to\nsee no man with them, and made no movement to go. So the eldest\nlady said to him, 'What ails thee that thou dost not go away?\nBelike, thou grudgest at thy pay?' And she turned to the cateress\nand said to her, 'Give him another dinar.' 'No, by Allah, O\nlady!' answered the porter. 'I do not indeed grudge at my pay,\nfor my right hire is scarce two dirhems; but of a truth my heart\nand soul are taken up with you and how it is that ye are alone\nand have no man with you and no one to divert you, although ye\nknow that women's sport is little worth without men, nor is an\nentertainment complete without four at the table, and ye have no\nfourth. What says the poet?\n\nDost thou not see that for pleasure four several things combine,\n     Instruments four, harp, hautboy and gittern and psaltery?\nAnd unto these, four perfumes answer and correspond, Violets,\n     roses and myrtle and blood-red anemone.\nNor is our pleasure perfect, unless four things have we, Money\n     and wine and gardens and mistress fair and free.\n\nAnd ye are three and need a fourth, who should be a man, witty,\nsensible and discreet, one who can keep counsel.' When they heard\nwhat he said, it amused them and they laughed at him and replied,\n'What have we to do with that, we who are girls and fear to\nentrust our secrets to those who will not keep them? For we have\nread, in such and such a history, what says Ibn eth Thumam:\n\nTell not thy secrets: keep them with all thy might. A secret\n     revealed is a secret lost outright.\nIf thine own bosom cannot thy secrets hold, Why expect more\n     reserve from another wight?\n\nOr, as well says Abou Nuwas on the same subject:\n\nThe fool, that to men doth his secrets avow, Deserves to be\n     marked with a brand on the brow.'\n\n'By your lives,' rejoined the porter, 'I am a man of sense and\ndiscretion, well read in books and chronicles. I make known what\nis fair and conceal what is foul, and as says the poet:\n\nNone keeps a secret but the man who's trusty and discreet. A\n     secret's ever safely placed with honest folk and leal;\nAnd secrets trusted unto me are in a locked-up house Whose keys\n     are lost and on whose door is set the Cadi's seal.\n\nWhen the girls heard this, the eldest one said to him, 'Thou\nknowest that we have laid out much money in preparing this\nentertainment: hast thou aught to offer us in return? For we will\nnot let thee sit with us and be our boon companion and gaze on\nour bright fair faces, except thou pay down thy share of the\ncost. Dost thou not know the saying:\n\n     Love without money\n     Is not worth a penny?'\n\n'If thou have aught, my friend,' added the portress, 'then art\nthou something: but if thou have nothing, be off without\nanything.' Here the cateress interposed, saying, 'O sisters, let\nhim be: for by Allah, he has not failed us to-day: another had\nnot been so patient with us. I will pay his share for him.'\nWhereupon the porter, overjoyed, kissed the earth and thanked\nher, saying, 'By Allah, it was thou didst handsel me this day!\nHere are the two dinars I had of you: take them and admit me to\nyour company, not as a guest, but as a servant.' 'Sit down,'\nanswered they; 'thou art welcome.' But the eldest lady said,\n'By Allah, we will not admit thee to our society but on one\ncondition; and it is that thou enquire not of what does not\nconcern thee; and if thou meddle, thou shalt be beaten.' Said the\nporter, 'I agree to this, O my lady, on my head and eyes!\nHenceforth I am dumb.' Then arose the cateress and girding her\nmiddle, laid the table by the fountain and set out the cups and\nflagons, with flowers and sweet herbs and all the requisites for\ndrinking. Moreover, she strained the wine and set it on; and they\nsat down, she and her sisters, with the porter, who fancied\nhimself in a dream. The cateress took the flagon of wine and\nfilled a cup and drank it off. Then she filled again and gave it\nto one of her sisters, who drank and filled another cup and gave\nit to her other sister: then she filled a fourth time and gave it\nto the porter, saying:\n\nDrink and fare well and health attend thee still. This drink\n     indeed's a cure for every ill.\n\nHe took the cup in his hand and bowed and returned thanks,\nreciting the following verses:\n\nQuaff not the cup except with one who is of trusty stuff, One who\n     is true of thought and deed and eke of good descent.\nWine's like the wind, that, if it breathe on perfume, smells as\n     sweet, But, if o'er carrion it pass, imbibes its evil scent.\n\nAnd again:\n\nDrink not of wine except at the hands of a maiden fair, Who, like\n     unto thee and it, is joyous and debonair.\n\nThen he kissed their hands and drank and was merry with wine and\nswayed from side to side and recited the following verses:\n\nHither, by Allah, I conjure thee! Goblets that full of the grape\n     juice be!\nAnd brim up, I prithee, a cup for me, For this is the water of\n     life, perdie!\n\nThen the cateress filled the cup and gave it to the portress, who\ntook it from her hand and thanked her and drank. Then she filled\nagain and gave it to the eldest, who filled another cup and\nhanded it to the porter. He gave thanks and drank and recited the\nfollowing verses:\n\nIt is forbidden us to drink of any blood Except it be of that\n     which gushes from the vine.\nSo pour it out to me, an offering to thine eyes, To ransom from\n     thy hands my soul and all that's mine.\n\nThen he turned to the eldest lady, who was the mistress of the\nhouse, and said to her, 'O my lady, I am thy slave and thy\nservant and thy bondman!' And repeated the following verses:\n\nThere is a slave of all thy caves now standing at thy gate Who\n     ceases not thy bounties all to sing and celebrate.\nMay he come in, O lady fair, to gaze upon thy charms? Desire and\n     I from thee indeed may never separate.\n\n\nAnd she said to him, 'Drink, and health and prosperity attend\nthee!' So he took the cup and kissed her hand and sang the\nfollowing verses:\n\n\nI brought my love old wine and pure, the likeness of her cheeks,\n     Whose glowing brightness called to mind a brazier's heart of\n     red.\nShe touched the wine-cup with her lips, and laughing roguishly,\n     \"How canst thou proffer me to drink of my own cheeks?\" she\n     said.\n\"Drink!\" answered I, \"it is my tears; its hue is of my blood; And\n     it was heated at a fire that by my sighs was fed.\"\n\nAnd she answered him with the following verse:\n\nIf, O my friend, thou hast indeed wept tears of blood for me, I\n     prithee, give them me to drink, upon thine eyes and head!\n\nThen she took the cup and drank it off to her sisters' health;\nand they continued to drink and make merry, dancing and laughing\nand singing and reciting verses and ballads. The porter fell to\ntoying and kissing and biting and handling and groping and\ndallying and taking liberties with them: whilst one put a morsel\ninto his mouth and another thumped him, and this one gave him a\ncuff and that pelted him with flowers; and he led the most\ndelightful life with them, as if he sat in paradise among the\nhouris. They ceased not to drink and carouse thus, till the wine\nsported in their heads and got the better of their senses, when\nthe portress, arose, and putting off her clothes, let down her\nhair over her naked body, for a veil. Then she threw herself into\nthe basin and sported in the water and swam about and dived like\na duck and took water in her mouth and spurted it at the porter\nand washed her limbs and the inside of her thighs. Then she came\nup out of the water and throwing herself into the porter's lap,\npointed to her commodity and said to him, 'O my lord O my friend,\nwhat is the name of this?' 'Thy kaze,' answered he; but she said,\n'Fie! art thou not ashamed!' And cuffed him on the nape of the\nneck. Quoth he, 'Thy catso.' And she dealt him a second cuff,\nsaying, 'Fie! what an ugly word! Art thou not ashamed?' 'Thy\ncommodity,' said he; and she, 'Fie! is there no shame in thee?'\nAnd thumped him and beat him. Then said he, 'Thy coney.'\nWhereupon the eldest fell on him and beat him, saying, 'Thou\nshalt not say that.' And whatever he said, they beat him more and\nmore, till his neck ached again; and they made a laughing-stock\nof him amongst them, till he said at last, 'Well, what is its\nname amongst you women?' 'The sweet basil of the dykes,' answered\nthey. 'Praised be God for safety!' cried he. 'Good, O sweet basil\nof the dikes!' Then they passed round the cup and presently the\ncateress rose and throwing herself into the porter's lap, pointed\nto her kaze and said to him, 'O light of mine eyes, what is the\nname of this?' 'Thy commodity,' answered he. 'Art thou not\nashamed?' said she, and dealt him a buffet that made the place\nring again, repeating, 'Fie! Fie! art thou not ashamed?' Quoth\nhe, 'The sweet basil of the dykes.' 'No! No!' answered she, and\nbeat him and cuffed him on the nape. Then said he, 'Thy kaze, thy\ntout, thy catso, thy coney.' But they replied, 'No! No!' And he\nsaid again, 'The sweet basil of the dykes.' Whereupon they\nlaughed till they fell backward and cuffed him on the neck,\nsaying, 'No; that is not its name.' At last he said, 'O my\nsisters, what is its name?' And they answered, 'What sayest thou\nto the peeled barleycorn?' Then the cateress put on her clothes\nand they sat down again to carouse, whilst the porter lamented\nover his neck and shoulders. The cup passed round among them\nawhile, and presently the eldest and handsomest of the ladies\nrose and put off her clothes; whereupon the porter took his neck\nin his hand and said, 'My neck and shoulders are in the way of\nGod!' Then she threw herself into the basin and plunged and\nsported and washed; whilst the porter looked at her, naked, as\nshe were a piece of the moon or the full moon when she waxes or\nthe dawn at its brightest, and noted her shape and breasts and\nher heavy quivering buttocks, for she was naked as God created\nher. And he said, 'Alack!' Alack!' and repeated the following\nverses:\n\nIf to the newly-budded branch thy figure I compare, I lay upon my\n     heart a load of wrong too great to bear;\nFor that the branch most lovely is, when clad upon with green,\n     But thou, when free of every veil, art then by far most\n     fair.\n\nWhen she heard this, she came up out of the water and sitting\ndown on his knees, pointed to her kaze and said, 'O my little\nlord, what is the name of this?' 'The sweet basil of the dykes,'\nanswered he; but she said, 'No! No!' Quoth he, 'The peeled\nbarleycorn.' And she said, 'Pshaw!' Then said he, 'Thy kaze.'\nFie! Fie!' cried she. 'Art thou not ashamed?' And cuffed him on\nthe nape of the neck. And whatever name he said, they beat him,\nsaying, 'No! No!' till at last he said, 'O my sisters, what is\nits name?' 'The khan[FN#27] of Abou Mensour,' answered they. And\nhe said, 'Praised be God for safety! Bravo! Bravo! O khan of Abou\nMensour!' Then the damsel rose and put on her clothes and they\nreturned to their carousing and the cup passed round awhile.\nPresently, the porter rose and putting off his clothes, plunged\ninto the pool and swam about and washed under his chin and\narmpits, even as they had done. Then he came out and threw\nhimself into the eldest lady's lap and putting his arms into the\nportress's lap and his feet into that of the cateress pointed to\nhis codpiece and said, 'O my mistresses, what is the name of\nthis?' They laughed till they fell backward and one of them\nanswered, 'Thy yard.' 'Art thou not ashamed?' said he. 'A\nforfeit!' and took of each a kiss. Quoth another, 'Thy pintle.'\nBut he replied, 'No,' and gave each of them a bite in play. Then\nsaid they, 'Thy pizzle.' 'No,' answered he, and gave each of them\na hug; and they kept saying, 'Thy yard, thy pintle, thy pizzle,\nthy codpiece!' whilst he kissed and hugged and fondled them to\nhis heart's content, and they laughed till they were well nigh\ndead. At last they said, 'O our brother, and what is its name?'\n'Don't you know?' asked he; and they said, 'No.' Quoth he, 'This\nis the mule Break-all, that browses on the basil of the dykes and\ngobbles up the peeled barleycorn and lies by night in the khan of\nAbou Mensour.' And they laughed till they fell backward. Then\nthey fell again to drinking and continued after this fashion till\nthe night came upon them, when they said to the porter, 'In the\nname of God, put on thy sandals and be off and let us see the\nbreadth of thy shoulders!' Quoth he, 'By Allah, the leaving life\nwere easier to me than the leaving you! Let us join the night to\nthe day, and to-morrow we will each go our own way.' 'My life on\nyou!' said the cateress, 'let him pass the night with us, that we\nmay laugh at him, for he is a pleasant rogue; and we may never\nagain chance upon the like of him.' So the mistress of the house\nsaid to the porter, 'Thou shalt pass the night with us on\ncondition that thou submit to our authority and that, whatever\nthou seest, thou ask no questions about it nor enquire the reason\nof it.' 'It is well,' answered he; and they said, 'Go and read\nwhat is written over the door.' So he went to the door and found\nthe following words written thereon in letters of gold, 'He who\nspeaks of what concerns him not, shall hear what will not please\nhim.' And he said, 'Be ye witness against me that I will not\nspeak of what concerns me not.' Then rose the cateress and\nprepared food, and they ate: after which they lighted the lamps\nand candles and strewed on the latter ambergris and aloes-wood;\nthen changed the service and set on fresh fruits and flowers and\nwine and so forth and sat down again to drink. They ceased not to\neat and drink and make merry, hobnobbing and laughing and talking\nand frolicking, till there came a knocking at the door: whereupon\none of them rose and went to the door, without disturbing the\nparty, and presently returned, saying, 'Verily, our pleasure is\nto be complete to-night.' 'How so?' asked the others, and she\nreplied, 'There are three foreign Calenders[FN#28] at the door,\nwith shaven heads and chins and eyebrows and every one blind of\nthe right eye, which is a most extraordinary coincidence.\nApparently they are fresh from a journey and indeed the traces of\ntravel are evident on them; and the reason of their knocking at\nthe door is this. They are strangers to Baghdad and this is their\nfirst coming to our city: the night surprised them and they could\nnot find a lodging in the city and know no one with whom to take\nshelter: so they said to each other, \"Perhaps the owner of this\nhouse will give us the key of a stable or outhouse and let us\nsleep there.\" And, O my sisters, each of them is a laughing-stock\nafter his own fashion; and if we let them in, they will make us\nsport this night, and on the morrow each shall go his own way.'\nAnd she ceased not to persuade them, till they said, 'Let them\ncome in, on condition that they ask no questions of what does not\nconcern them, on pain of hearing what will not please them.' So\nshe rejoiced and going to the door, returned with the three\nCalenders, who saluted and bowed low and held back; but the\nladies rose to them and welcomed them and gave them joy of their\nsafety and made them sit down. The Calenders looked about them\nand seeing a pleasant place and a table elegantly spread with\nflowers and fruits and green herbs and dessert and wine, with\ncandles burning and perfumes smoking, and the three maidens, with\ntheir faces unveiled, said with one voice ''Fore Allah, it is\ngood!' Then they turned to the porter and saw that he was tipsy\nand jaded with drinking and dalliance. So they took him for one\nof themselves and said, 'He is a Calender like ourselves, either\nan Arab or a foreigner.' When the porter heard this, he rose and\nfixing his eyes on them, said, 'Sit still and do not meddle. Have\nyou not read what is written on the door? It befits not folk,\nlike yourselves, who come to us as mendicants, to loose your\ntongues on us.' 'We ask pardon of God, O fakir!' answered they.\n'Our heads are before thee.' The ladies laughed and making peace\nbetween them, set food before the Calenders. When they had eaten,\nthey all sat down again to carouse, the portress serving the new\ncomers, and the cup passed round awhile, till the porter said to\nthe Calenders, 'O brothers, have ye no story or rare trait to\ndivert us withal?' The Calenders, being warm with wine, called\nfor musical instruments; so the portress brought them a\ntambourine and a lute and a Persian harp; and each Calender took\none and tuned it and played and sang; and the girls joined in\nlustily and made a great noise. Whilst they were thus engaged,\nsome one knocked at the gate and the portress rose and went to\nsee who it was. Now the cause of this knocking was that, that\nvery night, the Khalif Haroun er Reshid had gone down into the\nCity, as was his wont, every now and then, to walk about for his\ndiversion and hear what news was stirring, attended by his Vizier\nJaafer and Mesrour his headsman, all three, as usual, disguised\nas merchants. Their way brought them to the house of the three\nladies, where they heard the noise of musical instruments and of\nsinging and merriment, and the Khalif said to Jaafer, 'I have a\nmind to enter this house and listen to this music and see the\nsingers.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered Jaafer, 'these\npeople are certainly drunk, and I fear lest some mischief betide\nus at their hands.' 'It matters not,' rejoined the Khalif; 'I\nmust and will go in and I desire that thou contrive some pretext\nto that end.' 'I hear and obey,' replied the Vizier and going up\nto the gate, knocked, whereupon the portress came down and\nopened. Jaafer came forward and kissing the earth before her,\nsaid, 'O lady, we are merchants from Tiberias: we reached Baghdad\nten days ago and sold our merchandise and took up our lodging at\nthe khan of the merchants. Now we were bidden to-night to an\nentertainment at the house of a certain merchant, who set food\nbefore us and we ate and caroused with him awhile, till he gave\nus leave to depart and we went out, intending for our lodging;\nbut being strangers in Baghdad, we lost ourselves and could not\nfind our way back to our khan: so we hope, of your courtesy, that\nyou will admit us to pass the night with you, and God will\nrequite you.' The portress looked at them and saw that they were\ndressed like merchants and appeared respectable; so she returned\nto her sisters and repeated to them Jaafer's story, and they took\ncompassion on the supposed strangers and bade her admit them. So\nshe resumed and opened the gate to them, and they said, 'Have we\nthy leave to enter?' 'Enter,' answered she; whereupon the Khalif\nand Jaafer and Mesrour entered; and when the girls saw them, they\nrose and welcomed them and made them sit down and served them,\nsaying, 'Ye are welcome as our guests, but on one condition.'\n'What is that?' asked they; and the mistress of the house\nanswered, 'It is that you be eyes without tongues and that,\nwhatever you see, you enquire not thereof nor speak of that which\nconcerns you not, lest you hear what will not please you.'\n'Good,' answered they: 'we are no meddlers.' Then they sat down\nto carouse; whilst the Khalif looked at the three Calenders and\nmarvelled for that they were all blind of the right eye, and\ngazed upon the ladies and was amazed at their beauty and\ngoodliness. They fell to drinking and talking and said to the\nKhalif, 'Drink.' But he answered, 'Excuse me, for I am vowed to\nthe pilgrimage.'[FN#29] Whereupon the portress rose and spreading\na gold-embroidered cloth before him, set thereon a china bowl,\ninto which she poured willow-flower water, with a spoonful of\nsnow and some pounded sugar-candy. The Khalif thanked her and\nsaid to himself, 'By Allah, I will reward her to-morrow for her\nkind office!' Then they addressed themselves to carousel, till\nthe wine began to work upon them, when the eldest lady rose and\nmaking an obeisance to her guests, took the cateress by the hand\nand said, 'Come, sisters, let us do our duty.' And they answered,\n'It is well.' So the portress rose and cleared the middle of the\nsaloon, after she had removed the table service and thrown away\nthe remains of the banquet. Then she renewed the perfumes in the\ncensers and made the Calenders sit down on a sofa by the dais and\nthe Khalif and his companions on a sofa at the other end; after\nwhich she called to the porter, saying, 'How dull and slothful\nthou art! Come and help us: thou art no stranger, but one of the\nhousehold!' So he rose and girt his middle and said, 'What would\nyou have me do?' And she answered, 'Stay where thou art.' Then\nthe cateress rose and setting a chair in the middle of the room,\nwent to a closet, which she opened, saying to the porter, 'Come\nand help me.' So he went to her and she brought out two black\nbitches, with chains round their necks, and gave them to him,\nsaying, 'Take them.' So he took them and carried them to the\nmiddle of the saloon; whereupon the mistress of the house tucked\nup her sleeves and taking a whip, said to the porter, 'Bring me\none of the bitches.' So he brought it to her by the chain; and\nthe bitch wept and shook its head at the damsel, who brought the\nwhip down on it, whilst the porter held it by the chain. The\nbitch howled and whined, but the lady ceased not to beat it till\nher arm was tired; when she threw away the whip and pressing the\nbitch to her bosom, kissed it on the head and wiped away its\ntears. Then she said to the porter, 'Take it back and bring the\nother.' He did as she bade him, and she did with the second bitch\nas she had done with the first. The Khalif's mind was troubled at\nher doings and his breast contracted and he could not restrain\nhis impatience to know the meaning of all this. So he winked to\nJaafer to ask, but the latter turned and signed to him as who\nshould say, 'Be silent: this is no time for impertinent\ncuriosity.' Then said the portress to the mistress of the house,\n'O my lady, rise and go up to thy place, that I in turn may do my\npart.' 'It is well,' answered she and went up and sat down on the\ncouch of juniper-wood, at the upper end of the dais; whilst the\nportress sat down on a chair and said to the cateress, 'Do what\nthou hast to do.' So the latter rose and going to a closet,\nbrought out a bag of yellow satin, with cords of green silk and\ntassels of gold, and came and sat down before the portress. Then\nshe opened the bag and took out a lute, which she tuned, and sang\nthe following verses, accompanying herself on the lute:\n\nThou art my wish, thou art my end; And in thy presence, O my\n     friend,\nThere is for me abiding joy: Thine absence sets my heart a-flame\nFor thee distraught, with thee possest, Thou reignest ever in my\n     breast,\nNor in the love I bear to thee Is there for me reproach or shame.\nLife's veil for me was torn apart, When Love gat hold upon my\n     heart\nFor Love still rends the veils in twain And brings dishonour on\n     fair fame.\nThe cloak of sickness I did on; And straight my fault appeared\n     and shone.\nSince that my heart made choice of thee And love and longing on\n     me came,\nMy eyes are ever wet with tears, And all my secret thought\n     appears,\nWhen with my tears' tumultuous flow Exhales the secret of thy\n     name.\nHeal thou my pains, for thou to me Art both disease and remedy.\nYet him, whose cure is in thy hand, Affliction shall for ever\n     claim,\nThy glances set my heart on fire, Slay me with swords of my\n     desire:\nHow many, truly, of the best Have fallen beneath Love's sword of\n     flame?\nYet may I not from passion cease Nor in forgetting seek release;\nFor love's my comfort, pride and law, Public and private, aye the\n     same.\nBlest eyes that have of thee their fill And look upon thee at\n     their will!\nAy, of my own unforced intent, The slave of passion I became.\n\nWhen the portress heard this foursome song, she cried out, 'Alas!\nAlas! Alas!' and tore her clothes and fell down in a swoon; and\nthe Khalif saw on her body the marks of beating with rods and\nwhips, and wondered greatly. Then the cateress rose and sprinkled\nwater upon her and brought her a fresh dress and put it on her.\nWhen the company saw this, their minds were troubled, for they\nunderstood not the reason of these things. And the Khalif said to\nJaafer, 'Didst thou not see the marks of beating with rods upon\nthe girl's body! I cannot keep silence nor be at rest, except I\ncome at the truth of all this and know the story of this damsel\nand the two bitches.' 'O my lord,' answered Jaafer, 'they made it\na condition with us that we should not speak of what concerns us\nnot, under pain of hearing what should not please us.' Then said\nthe portress 'By Allah! O my sister, come and complete thy\nservice to me.' 'With all my heart!' answered the cateress and\ntook the lute and leant it against her breasts. Then she swept\nthe strings with her finger-tips and sang the following verses:\n\nIf we complain of absence, what alas! shall we say? Or if longing\n     assail us, where shall we take our way?\nIf, to interpret for us, we trust to a messenger, How can a\n     message rightly a lover's plaint convey?\nOr if we put on patience, short is a lover's life, After his\n     heart's beloved is torn from him away.\nNothing, alas! is left me but sorrow and despair And tears that\n     adown my cheeks without cessation stray.\nThou that art ever absent from my desireful sight, Thou that art\n     yet a dweller within my heart alway,\nHast thou kept troth, I wonder, with one who loves thee dear,\n     Whose faith, whilst time endureth, never shall know decay?\nOr hast thou e'en forgotten her who for love of thee, In tears\n     and sickness and passion, hath wasted many a day?\nAlas! though Love unite us again in one embrace, Reproach for thy\n     past rigour with me full long shall stay.\n\nWhen the portress heard this second song, she gave a loud scream\nand exclaimed, 'By Allah! it is good!' and putting her hand to\nher clothes, tore them as before and fell down in a swoon.\nWhereupon the cateress rose and brought her another dress, after\nshe had sprinkled water on her. Then she sat up again and said to\nthe cateress 'To it again and help me to do the rest of my duty;\nfor there remains but one more song.' So the cateress took the\nlute and sang the following verses:\n\nHow long, ah me! shall this rigour last and this inhumanity? Are\n     not the tears that I have shed enough to soften thee?\nIf thou, of thy relentless will, estrangement do prolong,\n     Intending my despite, at last, I pray, contented be!\nIf treacherous fortune were but just to lovers and their woe,\n     They would not watch the weary night in sleepless agony.\nHave ruth on me, for thy disdain is heavy on my heart; Is it not\n     time that thou relent at last, my king, to me?\nTo whom but thee that slayest me should I reveal my pain? What\n     grief is theirs who love and prove the loved one's perfidy!\nLove and affliction hour by hour redouble in my breast: The days\n     of exile are prolonged; no end to them I see.\nMuslims, avenge a slave of love, the host of wakefulness, Whose\n     patience hath been trampled out by passion's tyranny!\nCan it be lawful, O my wish, that thou another bless With thine\n     embraces, whilst I die, in spite of Love's decree?\nYet in thy presence, by my side, what peace should I enjoy, Since\n     he I love doth ever strive to heap despite on me?\n\nWhen the portress heard this third song, she screamed out and\nputting forth her hand, tore her clothes even to the skirt and\nfell down in a swoon for the third time, and there appeared once\nmore on her body the marks of beat ing with rods. Then said the\nthree Calenders, 'Would God we had never entered this house, but\nhad slept on the rubbish-heaps! for verily our entertainment hath\nbeen troubled by things that rend the heart.' The Khalif turned\nto them and said, 'How so?' And they answered, 'Indeed, our minds\nare troubled about this matter.' Quoth he, 'Are you not then of\nthe household?' 'No,' replied they; 'nor did we ever see the\nplace till now.' Said the Khalif, 'There is the man by you: he\nwill surely know the meaning of all this.' And he winked at the\nporter. So they questioned the latter and he replied, 'By the\nAlmighty, we are all in one boat! I was brought up at Baghdad,\nbut never in my life did I enter this house till to-day, and the\nmanner of my coming in company with them was curious.' 'By\nAllah,' said they, 'we thought thee one of them, and now we see\nthou art but as one of ourselves.' Then said the Khalif, 'We are\nhere seven men, and they are but three women: so let us question\nthem of their case, and if they do not answer willingly, they\nshall do so by force.' They all agreed to this, except Jaafer,\nwho said, 'This is not well-advised: let them be, for we are\ntheir guests, and as ye know, they imposed on us a condition, to\nwhich we all agreed. Wherefore it is better that we keep silence\nconcerning this affair, for but a little remains of the night,\nand each go about his business.' And he winked to the Khalif and\nwhispered to him, 'There is but a little longer to wait, and\nto-morrow I will bring them before thee and thou canst then\nquestion them of their story.' But the Khalif lifted his head\nand cried out angrily, 'I have not patience to wait till then:\nlet the Calenders ask them.' And Jaafer said, 'This is not\nwell-advised.' Then they consulted together, and there was much\ntalk and dispute between them, who should put the question,\nbefore they fixed upon the porter. The noise drew the notice of\nthe lady of the house, who said to them, 'O guests, what is the\nmatter and what are you talking about?' Then the porter came\nforward and said to her, 'O lady, the company desire that thou\nacquaint them with the history of the two bitches and why thou\ndidst beat them and after fellest to kissing and weeping over\nthem and also concerning thy sister and why she has been beaten\nwith rods, like a man. This is what they charge me to ask thee,\nand peace be on thee.' When she heard this, she turned to the\nothers and said to them 'Is this true that he says of you?' And\nthey all replied 'Yes;' except Jaafer, who held his peace. Then\nsaid she, 'By Allah! O guests, ye have done us a grievous wrong,\nfor we made it a previous condition with you that whoso spoke of\nwhat concerned him not, should hear what should not please him.\nIs it not enough that we have taken you into our house and fed\nyou with our victual! But the fault is not so much yours as that\nof her who brought you in to us.' Then she tucked up her sleeves\nand smote three times on the floor, saying, 'Come quickly!'\nWhereupon the door of a closet opened and out came seven black\nslaves, with drawn swords in their hands, to whom said the lady,\n'Bind these babblers' hands behind them and tie them one with\nanother.' The slaves did as she bade, and said, 'O noble lady, is\nit thy will that we strike off their heads?' 'Hold your hands\nawhile,' answered she, 'till I question them of their condition,\nbefore ye strike off their heads.' 'By Allah, O my lady,'\nexclaimed the porter 'do not slay me for another's fault, for all\nhave erred and offended save myself. And by Allah, our night\nwould have been a pleasant one, had we not been afflicted with\nthese Calenders, whose presence is enough to lay a flourishing\ncity in ruins.' And he repeated the following verses:\n\nHow fair a thing is mercy to the great! And how much more to\n     those of low estate!\nBy all the love that has between us been, Doom not the guiltless\n     to the guilty's fate!\n\nWhen the lady heard this, she laughed, in spite of her anger, and\ncoming up to the guests, said to them, 'Tell me who you are, for\nye have but a little while to live, and were you not men of rank\nand consideration, you had never dared to act thus.' Then the\nKhalif said to Jaafer, 'Out on thee! Tell her who we are, or we\nshall be slain in a mistake, and speak her fair, ere an\nabomination befall us.' 'It were only a part of thy deserts,'\nreplied Jaafer. Whereupon the Khalif cried out at him in anger\nand said, 'There is a time to jest and a time to be serious.'\nThen the lady said to the Calenders, 'Are ye brothers?' 'Not so,'\nanswered they; 'we are only poor men and strangers.' And she said\nto one of them, 'Wast thou born blind of one eye?' 'No, by\nAllah!' replied he; 'but there hangs a rare story by the loss of\nmy eye, a story which, were it graven with needles on the corners\nof the eye, would serve as a lesson to those that can profit by\nexample.' She questioned the two other Calenders, and they made a\nlike reply, saying, 'By Allah! O our mistress, each one of us\ncomes from a different country and is the son of a king and a\nsovereign prince ruling over lands and subjects.' Then she turned\nto the others and said to them, 'Let each of you come forward in\nturn and tell us his history and the manner of his coming hither\nand after go about his business; but whoso refuses, I will cut\noff his head.' The first to come forward was the porter, who\nsaid, 'O my lady, I am a porter. This lady, the cateress, hired\nme and took me first to the vintner's, then to the butcher's,\nfrom the butcher's to the fruiterer's, from the fruiterer's to\nthe grocer's, from the grocer's to the greengrocer's, from the\ngreengrocer's to the confectioner's and the druggist's, and\nthence to this place, where there happened to me with you what\nhappened. This is my story; and peace be on thee!' At this the\nlady laughed and said to him, 'Begone about thy business.' But he\nsaid, 'By Allah, I will not budge 'till I hear the others'\nstories.' Then came forward the first Calender and said, 'Know, O\nlady, that\n\n\n\n\n                  The First Calender's Story.\n\n\n\nMy father was a king, and he had a brother, who was also a king\nover another city. The latter had a son and a daughter, and it\nchanced that I and the son of my uncle were both born on the same\nday. In due time we grew up to man's estate and there was a great\naffection between us. Now it was my wont every now and then to\nvisit my uncle and abide with him several months at a time.\nOne day, I went to visit him as usual and found him absent\na-hunting; but my cousin received me with the utmost courtesy and\nslaughtered sheep and strained wine for me and we sat down to\ndrink. When the wine had got the mastery of us, my cousin said to\nme, \"O son of my uncle I have a great service to ask of thee, and\nI beg of thee not to baulk me in what I mean to do.\" \"With all my\nheart,\" answered I; and he made me swear by the most solemn oaths\nto do his will. Then he went away and returning in a little, with\na lady veiled and perfumed and very richly clad, said to me,\n\"Take this lady and go before me to the burial-ground and enter\nsuch and such a sepulchre,\" and he described it to me and I knew\nit, \"and wait till I come.\" I could not gainsay him, by reason of\nthe oath I had sworn to him; so I took the lady and carried her\nto the cemetery, and entering the tomb sat down to await my\ncousin, who soon rejoined us, carrying a vessel of water, a bag\ncontaining plaster and an adze. He went up to the tomb in the\nmidst of the sepulchre and loosening its stones with the adze,\nlaid them on one side after which he fell to digging with the\nadze in the earth till he uncovered a trap of iron, as big as a\nsmall door, and raised it, when there appeared beneath it a\nwinding stair. Then he turned to the lady and said to her, \"Up\nand make thy choice.\" So she descended the stair and was lost to\nsight; and he said to me, \"O my cousin, when I have descended,\ncomplete thy kindness to me by replacing the trap-door and\nthrowing back the earth on it: then mix the plaster in the bag\nwith the water in this vessel and build up the tomb again with\nthe stones and plaster it over as before, lest any see it and\nsay, 'This tomb has been newly opened, albeit it is an old one;'\nfor I have been at work here a whole year, unknown to any save\nGod. This then is the service I had to ask of thee, and may God\nnever bereave thy friends of thee, O my cousin!\" Then he\ndescended the stair; and when he was out of sight, I replaced the\ntrap-door and did as he had bidden me, till the tomb was restored\nto its original condition, and I the while in a state of\nintoxication; after which I returned to the palace, and found my\nuncle still absent. Next morning I called to mind what had\nhappened and repented of having obeyed my cousin, when repentance\nwas of no avail, but thought that it must have been a dream. So I\nfell to enquiring after my cousin; but none could give me any\nnews of him; and I went out to the burial-ground and sought for\nthe tomb where I had left him, but could not find it, and ceased\nnot to go from sepulchre to sepulchre and from tomb to tomb,\nwithout success, till nightfall. Then I returned to the palace\nand could neither eat nor drink, for my heart was troubled about\nmy cousin, seeing I knew not what was come of him; and I was\nextremely chagrined and slept not that night, but lay awake for\nanxiety till morning. As soon as it was day, I repaired again to\nthe cemetery, pondering what my cousin had done and repenting me\nof having hearkened to him, and vent round among all the tombs,\nbut could not find the one I sought. Thus I did for the space of\nseven days, but with no better success, and my trouble and\nanxiety increased till I was well-nigh mad and could find nothing\nfor it but to return to my father. So I set out and journeyed\ntill I reached his capital; but as I entered the gate of the\ncity, a number of men sprang out on me and tied my hands behind\nme. At this I was beyond measure amazed, seeing that I was the\nson of the Sultan and that they were his servants and my own; and\ngreat fear fell on me, and I said to myself, \"I wonder what has\nbefallen my father!\" Then I questioned my captors; but they\nreturned me no answer. However, after awhile, one of them, who\nhad been my servant, said to me, \"Fortune has played thy father\nfalse; and the troops deserted him. So the Vizier slew him and\nseized on his throne; and we laid wait for thee by his command.\"\nThen they took me and carried me before the Vizier, well-nigh\ndistraught for this news of my father. Now between me and this\nVizier was an old feud, the cause of which was as follows. I was\nfond of shooting with a pellet-bow, and one day, as I was\nstanding on the terrace of my palace, a bird lighted on the\nterrace of the Vizier's house, where the latter chanced to be\nstanding at the time. I let fly at the bird, but, as fate and\ndestiny would have it, the pellet swerved and striking the Vizier\non the eye, put it out. As says the poet:\n\nOur footsteps follow on in their predestined way, Nor from the\n     ordered track can any mortal stray:\nAnd he whom Fate appoints in any land to die, No other place on\n     earth shall see his dying day.\n\n\nThe Vizier dared say nothing, at the time, because I was the\nSultan's son of the city, but thenceforward he nourished a deadly\nhatred against me. So when they brought me bound before him, he\ncommanded my head to be smitten off; and I said, \"For what crime\nwilt thou put me to death?\" \"What crime could be greater than\nthis?\" answered he, and pointed to his ruined eye. Quoth I, \"That\nI did by misadventure.\" And he replied, \"If thou didst it by\nmisadventure, I will do the like with intent.\" Then said he,\n\"Bring him to me.\" So they brought me up to him, and he put his\nfinger into my right eye and pulled it out; and thenceforward I\nbecame one-eyed as ye see me. Then he caused me to be bound hand\nand foot and put in a chest and said to the headsman, \"Take this\nfellow and carry him forth of the city and slay him and leave him\nfor the beasts and birds to eat.\" So the headsman carried me\nwithout the city to the midst of the desert, where he took me out\nof the chest, bound hand and foot as I was, and would have\nbandaged my eyes, that he might slay me. But I wept sore till I\nmade him weep, and looking at him, repeated the following verses:\n\nI counted on you as a coat of dart-proof mail toward The foeman's\n     arrows from my breast. Alas! ye are his sword!\nI hoped in you to succour me in every evil chance, Although my\n     right hand to my left no more should help afford.\nYet stand aloof nor cast your lot with those who do me hate, And\n     let my foemen shoot their shafts against your whilom lord!\nIf you refuse to succour me against my enemies, At least be\n     neutral, nor to me nor them your aid accord.\n\nAnd these also:\n\nHow many of my friends, methought, were coats of mail! And so\n     they were, indeed, but on my foeman's part.\nUnerring shafts and true I deemed them; and they were Unerring\n     shafts, indeed, alas, but in my heart!\n\nWhen the headsman heard this (now he had been my father's\nheadsman and I had done him kindness) he said, \"O my lord what\ncan I do, being but a slave commanded?\" Then he said, \"Fly for\nthy life and never return to this country, or thou art lost and I\nwith thee.\" As says one of the poets:\n\nEscape with thy life, if oppression betide thee, And let the\n     house tell of its builder's fate!\nCountry for country thou'lt find, if thou seek it; Life for life\n     never, early or late.\nIt is strange men should dwell in the house of abjection, When\n     the plain of God's world is so wide and so great!\n\nI kissed his hands, hardly crediting my escape; and recked little\nof the loss of my eye, in consideration of my deliverance from\ndeath. Then I repaired to my uncle's capital and going in to him,\ntold him what had befallen my father and myself; whereat he wept\nsore and said, \"Verily, thou addest affliction to my affliction\nand sorrow to my sorrow; for thy cousin has been missing these\nmany days; I know not what is become of him, and none can give me\nany news of him.\" Then he wept till he swooned away, and my heart\nwas sore for him. When he revived, he would have medicined my\neye, but found there was but the socket left and said, \"O my son,\nit is well that it was thine eye and not thy life!\" I could not\nkeep silence about my cousin; so I told him all that had passed,\nand he rejoiced greatly at hearing news of his son and said,\n\"Come, show me the tomb.\" \"By Allah, O my uncle,\" answered I, \"I\nknow it not, for I went after many times to seek for it, but\ncould not find it.\" However, we went out to the burial-ground and\nlooked right and left, till at last I discovered the tomb. At\nthis we both rejoiced greatly and entering, removed the earth,\nraised the trapdoor and descended fifty steps, till we came to\nthe foot of the stair, where we were met by a great smoke that\nblinded our eyes: and my uncle pronounced the words, which whoso\nsays shall never be confounded, that is to say, \"There is no\npower and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme!\" Then\nwe went on and found ourselves in a saloon, raised upon columns,\ndrawing air and light from openings communicating with the\nsurface of the ground and having a cistern in its midst. The\nplace was full of crates and sacks of flour and grain and other\nvictual; and at the upper end stood a couch with a canopy over\nit. My uncle went up to the bed and drawing the curtains, found\nhis son and the lady in each other's arms; but they were become\nblack coal, as they had been cast into a well of fire. When he\nsaw this, he spat in his son's face and taking off his shoe,\nsmote him with it, exclaiming, \"Swine that thou art, thou hast\nthy deserts! This is thy punishment in this world, but there\nawaits thee a far sorer and more terrible punishment in the world\nto come!\" His behaviour amazed me, and I mourned for my cousin,\nfor that he was become a black coal, and said to the king, \"O my\nuncle, is not that which hath befallen him enough, but thou must\nbeat him with thy shoe?\" \"O son of my brother,\" answered my\nuncle, \"this my son was from his earliest youth madly enamoured\nof his sister, and I forbade him from her, saying in myself,\n'They are but children.' But, when they grew up, sin befell\nbetween them, notwithstanding that his attendants warned him to\nabstain from so foul a thing, which none had done before nor\nwould do after him, lest the news of it should be carried abroad\nby the caravans and he become dishonoured and unvalued among\nkings to the end of time. I heard of this and believed it not,\nbut took him and upbraided him severely, saying, 'Have a care\nlest this thing happen to thee; for I will surely curse thee and\nput thee to death.' Then I shut her up and kept them apart, but\nthis accursed girl loved him passionately, and Satan got the\nupper hand of them and made their deeds to seem good in their\neyes. So when my son saw that I had separated them, he made this\nplace under ground and transported victual hither, as thou seest,\nand taking advantage of my absence a-hunting, came here with his\nsister, thinking to enjoy her a long while. But the wrath of God\ndescended on them and consumed them; and there awaits them in the\nworld to come a still sorer and more terrible punishment.\" Then\nhe wept and I with him, and he looked at me and said, \"Henceforth\nthou art my son in his stead.\" Then I bethought me awhile of the\nworld and its chances and how the Vizier had slain my father and\nusurped his throne and put out my eye and of the strange events\nthat had befallen my cousin and wept again, and my uncle wept\nwith me. Presently we ascended, and replacing the trap-door,\nrestored the tomb to its former condition. Then we resumed to the\npalace, but hardly had we sat down when we heard a noise of drums\nand trumpets and cymbals and galloping of cavalry and clamour of\nmen and clash of arms and clank of bridles and neighing of\nhorses, and the world was filled with clouds of dust raised by\nthe horses' hoofs. At this we were amazed and knew not what could\nbe the matter so we enquired and were told that the Vizier, who\nhad usurped my father's throne, had levied troops and hired the\nwild Arabs and was come with an army like the sands of the sea,\nnone could tell their number nor could any avail against them.\nThey assaulted the city unawares, and the people, being unable to\nwithstand them, surrendered the place to them. My uncle was slain\nand I took refuge in the suburbs, knowing that, if I fell into\nthe Vizier's hands, he would put me to death. Wherefore trouble\nwas sore upon me and I bethought me of all that had befallen me\nand my father and uncle and knew not what to do, for if I showed\nmyself, the people of the city and my father's troops would know\nme and hasten to win the usurpers favour by putting me to death;\nand I could find no means of escape but by shaving my face. So I\nshaved off my beard and eyebrows and donning a Calender's habit,\nleft the town, without being known of any, and made for this\ncity, in the hope that perhaps some one would bring me to the\npresence of the Commander of the Faithful and Vicar of the Lord\nof the Two Worlds, that I might relate to him my story and lay my\ncase before him. I arrived here today and was standing, perplexed\nwhere I should go, when I saw this second Calender; so I saluted\nhim, saying \"I am a stranger,\" and he replied, \"And I also am a\nstranger.\" Presently up came our comrade, this other Calender,\nand saluted us, saying, \"I am a stranger.\" \"We also are\nstrangers,\" answered we; and we walked on together, till darkness\novertook us, and destiny led us to your house. This, then, is my\nhistory and the manner of the loss of my right eye and the\nshaving of my beard and eyebrows.' They all marvelled at his\nstory, and the Khalif said to Jaafer, 'By Allah, I never heard or\nsaw the like of what happened to this Calender.' Then the\nmistress of the house said to the Calender, 'Begone about thy\nbusiness.' But he answered, 'I will not budge till I hear the\nothers' stories.' Then came forth the second Calender and kissing\nthe earth, said, 'O my lady, I was not born blind of one eye, and\nmy story is a marvellous one; were it graven with needles on the\ncorners of the eye, it would serve as a warning to those that can\nprofit by example.\n\n\n\n\n                  The Second Calender's Story.\n\n\n\nI am a king, son of a king. My father taught me to read and\nwrite, and I got the Koran by heart, according to the seven\nreadings, and read all manner of books under the guidance of\nlearned professors; I studied the science of the stars and the\nsayings of poets and applied myself to all branches of knowledge,\ntill I surpassed all the folk of my time. In particular, my skill\nin handwriting excelled that of all the scribes, and my fame was\nnoised abroad in all countries and at the courts of all the\nkings. Amongst others, the King of Ind heard of me and sent to my\nfather to seek me, with gifts and presents such as befit kings.\nSo my father fitted out six ships for me, and we put to sea and\nsailed for a whole month, till we reached the land. Then we\nbrought out the horses that were with us in the ships, together\nwith ten camels laden with presents for the King of Ind. and set\nout inland, but had not gone far, before there arose a great\ndust, that grew till it covered the whole country. After awhile\nit lifted and discovered fifty steel-clad horsemen, as they were\nfierce lions, whom we soon found to be Arab highwaymen. When they\nsaw that we were but a small company and had with us ten laden\ncamels, they drove at us with levelled spears. We signed to them\nwith our fingers to do us no hindrance, for that we were\nambassadors to the mighty King of Ind; but they replied (in the\nsame manner) that they were not in his dominions nor under his\nrule. Then they set on us and slew some of my attendants and put\nthe rest to flight; and I also fled, after I had gotten a sore\nwound whilst the Arabs were taken up with the baggage. I knew not\nwhither to turn, being reduced from high to low estate; so I fled\nforth at a venture till I came to the top of a mountain, where I\ntook shelter for the night in a cavern. On the morrow, I\ncontinued my journey and fared on thus for a whole month, till I\nreached a safe and pleasant city. The winter had passed away from\nit with its cold and the spring was come with its roses; its\nflowers were blowing and its streams welling and its birds\nwarbling. As says the poet, describing the city in question:\n\nA town, wherein who dwells is free from all affray; Security and\n     peace are masters there alway.\nLike Paradise itself, it seemeth, for its folk, With all its\n     beauties rare decked out in bright array.\n\nI was both glad and sorry to reach the city, glad for that I was\nweary with my journey and pale for weakness and anxiety, and\ngrieved to enter it in such sorry case. However, I went in,\nknowing not whither to betake me, and fared on till I came to a\ntailor sitting in his shop. I saluted him, and he returned my\nsalute and bade me a kindly welcome, and seeing me to be a\nstranger and noting marks of gentle breeding on me, enquired how\nI came thither. I told him all that had befallen me; and he was\nconcerned for me and said, \"O my son, do not discover thyself to\nany, for the King of this city is the chief of thy father's foes\nand hath a mortal feud against him.\" Then he set meat and drink\nbefore me, and I ate and he with me, and we talked together till\nnightfall, when he lodged me in a chamber beside his own, and\nbrought me a bed and coverlet. I abode with him three days, at\nthe end of which time he said to me, \"Dost thou know any craft by\nwhich thou mayst earn thy living?\" I replied, \"I am a doctor of\nthe law and a man of learning, a scribe, a grammarian, a poet, a\nmathematician and a skilled penman.\" Quoth he, \"Thy trade is not\nin demand in this country nor are there in this city any who\nunderstand science or writing or aught but money-getting.\" \"By\nAllah,\" said I, \"I know nought but what I have told thee!\" And he\nsaid, \"Gird thy middle and take axe and cord and go and cut\nfirewood in the desert for thy living, till God send thee relief,\nand tell none who thou art, or they will kill thee.\" Then he\nbought me an axe and a cord and gave me in charge to certain\nwoodcutters; with whom I went out into the desert and cut wood\nall day and carried home a load on my head. I sold it for half a\ndinar, with part of which I bought victual and laid up the rest.\nOn this wise I lived a whole year, at the end of which time I\nwent out one day into the desert, according to my wont, and\nstraying from my companions, happened on a tract full of trees\nand running streams, in which there was abundance of firewood; so\nI entered and coming on the gnarled stump of a great tree, dug\nround it with my axe and cleared the earth away from it.\nPresently, the axe struck upon a ring of brass; so I cleared away\nthe earth, till I uncovered a wooden trap-door, which I raised\nand there appeared beneath it a stair I descended the stair, till\nI came to a door, which I opened and found myself in a vaulted\nhall of goodly structure, wherein was a damsel like a pearl of\ngreat price, whose aspect banished pain and care and anxiety from\nthe heart and whose speech healed the troubled soul and\ncaptivated the wise and the intelligent. She was slender of shape\nand swelling-breasted, delicate-cheeked and bright of colour and\nfair of form; and indeed her face shone like the sun through the\nnight of her tresses, and her teeth glittered above the snows of\nher bosom. As says the poet of her:\n\nSlender of waist, with streaming hair the hue of night, is she,\n     With hips like hills of sand and shape straight as the\n     balsam-tree.\n\nAnd as says another:\n\nThere are four things that ne'er unite, except it be To shed my\n     heart's best blood and take my soul by storm.\nAnd these are night-black locks and brow as bright as day, Cheeks\n     ruddy as the rose and straight and slender form.\n\nWhen I looked on her, I prostrated myself before her Maker, for\nthe grace and beauty He had created in her and she looked at me\nand said, \"Art thou a man or a genie?\" \"I am a man,\" answered I;\nand she said, \"And who brought thee to this place, where I have\ndwelt five-and-twenty years without seeing man?\" Quoth I (and\nindeed her speech was sweet to me), \"O my lady, my good star\nbrought me hither for the dispelling of my grief and anxiety.\"\nAnd I told her all that had befallen me from first to last. My\ncase was grievous to her and she wept: then she said, \"I will\ntell thee my story in turn. I am the daughter of a King of\nFarther India, by name Efitamous, Lord of the Ebony Islands, who\nmarried me to my cousin, but on my wedding-night an Afrit called\nJerjis ben Rejmous, the mother's sister's son of Iblis, carried\nme off and flying away with me, set me down in this place whither\nhe transported all that I needed of clothes and ornaments and\nfurniture and meat and drink and so forth. Once in every ten days\nhe comes to me and lies the night here, then goes his way; for he\ntook me without the consent of his family: and he has agreed with\nme that, in case I should ever have occasion for him in the\ninterval between his visits, whether by night or by day, I have\nonly to touch these two lines engraved upon the alcove, and he\nwill be with me before I take away my hand. It is now four days\nsince he was here, and there remain six before he comes again.\nWilt thou therefore spend five days with me and depart the day\nbefore his coming?\" \"I will well,\" answered I. \"O rare! if it be\nnot all a dream.\" At this she rejoiced and taking me by the hand,\nled me through a vaulted doorway into a small but elegant\nbath-room, where we put off our clothes and she washed me. Then\nshe clad me in a new suit and seated me by her side on a high\ndivan and gave me to drink of sherbet of sugar flavoured with\nmusk. Then she brought food, and we ate and conversed. After\nawhile, she said to me, \"Lie down and rest, for thou art weary.\"\nSo I lay down and slept and forgot all that had befallen me. When\nI awoke, I found her rubbing my feet:[FN#30] so I thanked her and\nblessed her, and we sat talking awhile. Quoth she, \"By Allah, I\nwas sad at heart, for that I have dwelt alone under ground these\nfive-and-twenty years, without any to talk withal. So praised be\nGod who hath sent thee to me!\" Then she said, \"O youth, art thou\nfor wine?\" And I answered, \"As thou wilt.\" Whereupon she went to\nthe cupboard and took out a sealed flask of old wine and decked\nthe table with flowers and green herbs. Then she recited the\nfollowing verses:\n\nHad we thy coming known, we would for sacrifice Have poured thee\n     forth heart's blood and blackness of the eyes:\nAy, and we would have laid our cheeks within thy way, That so thy\n     feet might tread on eyelids, carpet-wise!\n\nI thanked her, for indeed love of her had taken hold of me, and\nmy grief and anxiety left me. We sat carousing till nightfall,\nand I passed the night with her, never knew I such a night. On\nthe morrow, delight succeeded delight till the middle of the day,\nwhen I drank wine, till I lost my senses and rose, staggering\nfrom side to side, and said to her, \"Come, O fair one! I will\ncarry thee up from under the earth and rid thee of this genie.\"\nShe laughed and replied, \"Be content and hold thy peace. One day\nin every ten is the genie's, and the other nine shall be thine.\"\nQuoth I (and indeed drunkenness had got the better of me), \"This\nvery moment will I break the alcove, on which is graven the\ntalisman, and summon the Afrit hither, that I may kill him, for I\nam used to kill Afrits ten at a time.\" When she heard this, she\nconjured me by Allah to refrain and repeated the following\nverses:\n\nThis is a thing wherein thine own destruction lies: I rede thee\n     keep thyself therefrom, if thou be wise.\n\nAnd also these:\n\nO thou that seek'st to hasten on the feet Of parting's steeds,\n     the matchless swift of flight,\nForbear, for fortune's nature is deceit, And parting is the end\n     of love delight.\n\nI paid no heed to her words, but kicked the alcove with all my\nmight, and immediately the place grew dark, it thundered and\nlightened, the earth trembled and the world was wrapped in gloom.\nWhen I saw this, the fumes of the wine left my head and I said to\nthe lady, \"What is the matter?\" \"The Afrit is upon us,\" answered\nshe \"Did I not warn thee of this! By Allah, thou hast ruined me!\nBut fly for thy life and return whence thou camest.\" So I\nascended the stair, but, in the excess of my fear I forgot my\nsandals and hatchet. When I had mounted two steps, I turned to\nlook, and behold, the ground clove in sunder and out came an\nAfrit of hideous aspect, who said to the lady, \"What is this\ncommotion with which thou disturbest me? What misfortune has\nbefallen thee?\" \"Nothing has befallen me,\" answered she, \"except\nthat I was heavy at heart and drank a little wine to hearten\nmyself. Then I rose to do an occasion, but my head became heavy\nand I fell against the alcove.\" \"Thou liest, O harlot!\" said he,\nand looked right and left, till he caught sight of the axe and\nthe sandals and said, \"These are some man's gear. Who has been\nwith thee?\" Quoth she, \"I never set eyes on them till this\nmoment; they must have clung to thee as thou camest hither.\" But\nhe said, \"This talk is absurd and will not impose on me, O\nstrumpet!\" Then he stripped her naked and stretching her on the\nground, tied her hands and feet to four stakes and proceeded to\ntorture her to make her confess. I could not bear to hear her\nweeping; so I ascended the stair, quaking for fear. When I\nreached the top, I replaced the trap-door and covered it over\nwith earth; and I thought of the lady and her beauty and what had\nbefallen her through my folly and repented me sore of what I had\ndone. Then I bethought me of my father and his kingdom and how I\nhad become a woodcutter, and how, after my life had been awhile\nserene, it had again become troubled, and I wept and repeated the\nfollowing verse:\n\nWhat time the cruelties of Fate o'erwhelm thee with distress,\n     Think that one day must bring thee ease, another day\n     duresse.\n\nThen I went on till I reached the house of my friend, whom I\nfound awaiting me, as he were on coals of fire on my account.\nWhen he saw me, he rejoiced and said, \"O my brother, where didst\nthou pass the night? My heart has been full of anxiety on thine\naccount, fearing for thee from the wild beasts or other peril:\nbut praised be God for thy safety!\" I thanked him for his\nsolicitude, and retiring to my chamber, fell a-musing on what had\npassed and reproached myself grievously for my meddlesomeness in\nkicking the alcove. Presently the tailor came in to me and said,\n\"O my son, there is without an old man, a foreigner, who seeks\nthee. He has thine axe and sandals and came to the woodcutters\nand said to them, 'I went out at the hour of the call to morning\nprayer and happened on these and know not whose they are: direct\nme to their owner.' They knew thine axe and sent him to thee; and\nhe is now sitting in my shop. So do thou go out to him and thank\nhim and take thy gear.\" When I heard this, my colour changed and\nI was sick for terror but before I could think, the floor clove\nasunder and up came the stranger, and lo, it was the Afrit! Now\nhe had tortured the lady in the most barbarous manner, without\nbeing able to make her confess: so he took the axe and sandals,\nsaying, \"As sure as I am Jerjis of the lineage of Iblis, I will\nbring back the owner of this axe and these sandals!\" So he went\nto the woodcutters with the tale aforesaid, and they directed him\nto me. He snatched me up without parley and flew high into the\nair, but presently descended and plunged into the ground with me,\nand I the while unconscious. Then he came up with me in the\nunderground palace, where I saw the lady stretched out naked,\nwith the blood running from her sides. At this sight, my eyes ran\nover with tears; but the Afrit unbound her and veiling her, said\nto her, \"O wanton, is not this thy lover?\" She looked at me and\nsaid, \"I know not this man, nor have I ever seen him till now.\"\nQuoth he, \"Wilt thou not confess after all this torture?\" And she\nanswered, \"I never saw him in my life, and God forbid that I\nshould lie against him and thou kill him.\" \"Then,\" said he, \"if\nthou know him not, take this sword and cut off his head.\" She\ntook the sword and came and stood at my head; and I made signs to\nher with my eyebrows whilst the tears ran down my cheeks. She\nunderstood me and signed to me with her eyes as who should say,\n\"Thou hast brought all this upon us.\" And I answered her, in the\nsame fashion, that it was a time for forgiveness; and the tongue\nof the case spoke[FN#31] the words of the poet:\n\nMy looks interpret for my tongue and tell of what I feel: And all\n     the love appears that I within my heart conceal.\nWhen as we meet and down our cheeks our tears are running fast,\n     I'm dumb, and yet my speaking eyes my thought of thee\n     reveal.\nShe signs to me; and I, I know the things her glances say: I with\n     my fingers sign, and she conceives the mute appeal.\nOur eyebrows of themselves suffice unto our intercourse: We're\n     mute; but passion none the less speaks in the looks we\n     steal.\n\nThen she threw down the sword and said, \"How shall I strike off\nthe head of one whom I know not and who has done me no hurt? My\nreligion will not allow of this.\" Quoth the Afrit, \"It is\ngrievous to thee to kill thy lover. Because he hath lain a night\nwith thee, thou endurest this torture and wilt not confess upon\nhim. It is only like that pities like.\" Then he turned to me and\nsaid, \"O mortal, dost thou not know this woman?\" \"Who is she?\"\nanswered I. \"I never saw her till now.\" \"Then,\" said he \"take\nthis sword and strike off her head and I will believe that thou\nknowest her not and will let thee go and do thee no hurt.\" Quoth\nI, \"It is well;\" and taking the sword, went up to her briskly and\nraised my hand. But she signed to me with her eyebrows, as who\nshould say, \"What hurt have I done thee? Is it thus thou\nrequitest me?\" I understood what she would say and replied in the\nsame manner, \"I will ransom thee with my life.\" And the tongue of\nthe case repeated the following verses:\n\nHow many a lover with his eyelids speaks And doth his thought\n     unto his mistress tell\nHe flashes signals to her with his eyes, And she at once is ware\n     of what befell.\nHow swift the looks that pass betwixt the twain! How fair,\n     indeed, and how delectable!\nOne with his eyelids writes what he would say: The other with her\n     eyes the writ doth spell.\n\nThen my eyes ran over with tears and I said, \"O mighty Afrit and\ndoughty hero! if a woman, lacking sense and religion, deem it\nunlawful to strike off my head, how can I, who am a man, bring\nmyself to slay her whom I never saw in my life? Never will I\ndo it, though I drink the cup of death and ruin!\" And I threw\nthe sword from my hand. Quoth the Afrit, \"Ye show the good\nunderstanding between you, but I will let you see the issue of\nyour doings.\" Then he took the sword and cut off the lady's hands\nand feet at four strokes; whilst I looked on and made sure of\ndeath; and she signed me a farewell with her eyes. Quoth he,\n\"Thou cuckoldest me with thine eyes!\" And struck off her head\nwith a blow of his sword. Then he turned to me and said, \"O\nmortal, by our law; when our wives commit adultery, it is lawful\nto us to put them to death. As for this woman, I stole her away\non her wedding-night, when she was a girl of twelve, and she has\nknown no one but myself. I used to come to her once in every\nten days in the habit of a man, a foreigner, and pass one night\nwith her; and when I was assured that she had played me false,\nI slew her. But as for thee, I am not sure that thou west her\naccomplice: nevertheless, I must not let thee go unharmed; but I\nwill grant thee a favour.\" At this I rejoiced greatly and said,\n\"What favour wilt thou grant me?\" \"I will give thee thy choice,\"\nreplied he, \"whether I shall change thee into a dog, an ass or an\nape.\" Quoth I (and indeed I had hoped that he would pardon me),\n\"By Allah, spare me, and God will reward thee for sparing a true\nbeliever, who hath done thee no harm.\" And I humbled myself\nbefore him to the utmost and wept, saying, \"Indeed, thou dost me\ninjustice.\" \"Do not multiply words on me,\" answered he; \"it is in\nmy power to kill thee: but I give thee thy choice.\" \"O Afrit,\"\nrejoined I, \"it would best become thee to pardon me, even as the\nenvied pardoned the envier.\" Quoth he, \"And how was that?\" \"They\nsay, O Afrit,\" answered I, \"that\n\n\n\n\nStory of the Envier and the Envied.\n\n\n\nThere dwelt once in a certain city two men, who occupied\nadjoining houses, having a common party-wall; and one of them\nenvied the other and looked on him with an evil eye and did his\nutmost endeavour to work him ill; and his envy grew on him till\nhe could hardly eat or enjoy the delight of sleep for it. But the\nenvied man did nought but prosper, and the more the other strove\nto do him hurt, the more he increased and throve and flourished.\nAt last the hatred his neighbour bore him and his constant\nendeavour to do him hurt came to his knowledge and he said, 'By\nAllah, I will renounce the world on his account!' So he left his\nnative place and settled in a distant city, where he bought a\npiece of land, in which was a dried-up well, that had once been\nused for watering the fields. Here he built him an oratory, which\nhe fitted up with all that he required, and took up his abode\ntherein, devoting himself with a sincere heart to the service of\nGod the Most High. Fakirs[FN#32] and poor folk soon flocked to\nhim from all sides, and his fame spread abroad in the city, so\nthat the notables resorted to him. After awhile, the news reached\nthe envious man of the good fortune that had befallen his old\nneighbour and the high consideration in which he was held: so he\nset out for the town in which the latter dwelt and repaired to\nthe hermitage, where the envied man welcomed him and received him\nwith the utmost honour. Quoth the envier, 'I have journeyed\nhither on purpose to tell thee a piece of good news. So order thy\nfakirs to retire to their cells and go with me apart, for I will\nnot say what I have to tell thee, except privately where none may\noverhear us.' Accordingly the envied man ordered the fakirs to\nretire to their cells; and they did so. Then he took the other by\nthe hand and walked on with him a little way, till they came to\nthe deserted well, when the envious man gave the other a push and\ncast him into the well, unseen of any; after which, he went out\nand went his way thinking that he had killed him. Now this well\nwas haunted by Jinn, who bore up the envied man and let him down\nlittle by little, so that he reached the bottom unhurt, and they\nseated him on a stone. Then said one of the Jinn to the others,\n'Know ye who this is?' And they answered, 'No.' Quoth he, 'This\nis the envied man who fled from him who envied him and settled in\nour city, where he built him this oratory and entertains us with\nhis litanies and recitations of the Koran. But the envious man\nset out and journeyed till he rejoined him and contrived to throw\nhim into this well. Now the news of him hath this very night come\nto the Sultan of the city and he purposes to visit him to-morrow,\non account of his daughter. 'And what ails his daughter?' asked\nanother. 'She is possessed of an evil spirit,' replied the first,\n'for the genie Meimoun ben Demdem has fallen in love with her;\nbut if the pious man knew the remedy, he could cure her; and it\nis the easiest of things.' 'And what is the remedy?' asked the\nother. Quoth the first speaker 'The black cat that is with him in\nthe oratory has a white spot, the size of a dirhem, at the end of\nher tail: he should take seven white hairs from this spot and\nfumigate the princess therewith; whereupon the Marid will leave\nher and never return, and she will be cured immediately.' And the\nenvied man heard all this. When the day broke and the morning\nappeared and shone, the fakirs came to seek their chief and found\nhim rising from the well, wherefore he was magnified in their\neyes; and he took the black cat and plucking seven white hairs\nfrom the spot at the end of her tail, laid them aside. The sun\nhad hardly risen when the King arrived and entered the hermitage,\nattended by his chief officers, leaving the rest of his suite\nwithout. The envied man bade him welcome and drawing near to him,\nsaid, 'Shall I tell thee the object of thy visit?' 'Yes,'\nanswered the King. And he said, 'Thou comest to consult me\nconcerning thy daughter.' Quoth the King, 'Thou sayst truly, O\nvirtuous elder!' Then said the envied man, 'Send and fetch her,\nand (God willing) I trust to cure her at once.' The King rejoiced\nand sent for his daughter; and they brought her bound hand and\nfoot. The envied man made her sit down behind a curtain and\ntaking out the hairs, fumigated her with them; whereupon the\nAfrit that was in her roared out and departed from her. And she\nwas restored to her right mind and veiled her face, saying, 'What\nhas happened and who brought me hither?' At this, the Sultan\nrejoiced beyond measure and kissed her on the eyes and kissed the\nenvied man's hand. Then he turned to his officers and said, 'How\nsay you? What reward doth he deserve who cured my daughter?' They\nanswered, 'He deserves to have her to wife;' and the King, 'Ye\nsay well.' So he married him to her, and the envied man became\nthe King's son-in-law. After awhile, the Vizier died, and the\nKing said, 'Whom shall we make Vizier in his stead?' 'Thy\nson-in-law,' answered the courtiers. So the envied man was made\nVizier. Presently the Sultan also died, and the grandees\ndetermined to appoint the Vizier King in his place. So they made\nhim Sultan, and he became King regnant. One day, as he was riding\nforth in his royal state, surrounded by his Viziers and Amirs and\ngrandees, his eyes fell on his old neighbour, the envious man; so\nhe turned to one of his viziers and said to him, 'Bring me yonder\nman and frighten him not.' So the Vizier went and returned with\nthe envious man: and the King said, 'Give him a thousand dinars\nfrom my treasury and twenty loads of merchandise and send him\nunder an escort to his own city.' Then he bade him farewell and\nsent him away and forbore to punish him for what he had done with\nhim See, O Afrit, how the envied man forgave his envier, who had\nalways hated him and borne him malice and had journeyed to him\nand made shift to throw him into the well: yet did he not requite\nhim his ill-doing, but on the contrary was bountiful to him and\nforgave him.\" Then I wept before him exceeding sore, and repeated\nthe following verses:\n\nI prithee, pardon mine offence: for men of prudent mind To pardon\n     unto those that sin their sins are still inclined.\nIf I, alas! contain in me all fashions of offence, Let there in\n     thee forgiveness fair be found in every kind.\nFor men are bound to pardon those that are beneath their hand, If\n     they themselves with those that be above them grace would\n     find.\n\nQuoth the Afrit, \"I will neither kill thee nor let thee go free,\nbut I will assuredly enchant thee.\" Then he tore me from the\nground and flew up with me into the air, till I saw the earth as\nit were a platter midmost the water. Presently he set me down on\na mountain and took a little earth, over which he muttered some\nmagical words, then sprinkled me with it, saying, \"Quit this\nshape for that of an ape.\" And immediately I became an ape, a\nhundred years old. Then he went away and left me; and when I saw\nmyself in this ugly shape, I wept, but resigned myself to the\ntyranny of fate, knowing that fortune is constant to no one, and\ndescended to the foot of the mountain, where found a wide plain.\nI fared on for the space of a month till my course brought me to\nthe shore of the salt sea: where I stood awhile and presently\ncaught sight of a ship in the midst of the sea, making for the\nland with a fair wind. I hid myself behind a rock on the beach\nand waited till the ship drew near, when I sprang on board. Quoth\none of the passengers, \"Turn this unlucky brute out from amongst\nus!\" And the captain said, \"Let us kill him.\" And a third, \"I\nwill kill him with this sword.\" But I laid hold of the captain's\nskirts and wept, and the tears ran down my face. The captain took\npity on me and said, \"O merchants, this ape appeals to me for\nprotection, and I will protect him: henceforth he is under my\nsafeguard, and none shall molest or annoy him.\" Then he entreated\nme kindly and whatever he said I understood and ministered to all\nhis wants and waited on him, so that he loved me. The ship sailed\non with a fair wind for the space of fifty days, at the end of\nwhich time we cast anchor over against a great city, wherein were\nmuch people, none could tell their number save God. No sooner had\nwe come to an anchor, than we were boarded by officers from the\nKing of the city; who said to the merchants, \"Our King gives you\njoy of your safety and sends you this scroll of paper, on which\neach one of you is to write a line. For know that the King's\nVizier, who was an excellent penman, is dead and the King has\nsworn a solemn oath that he will make none Vizier in his stead\nwho cannot write like him.\" Then they gave them a scroll, ten\ncubits long by one wide, and each of the merchants, who could\nwrite, wrote a line therein: after which I rose and snatched the\nscroll from their hands, and they cried out at me and rated me,\nfearing that I would tear it or throw it into the sea. But I made\nsigns that I would write; whereat they marvelled, saying, \"We\nnever saw an ape write!\" And the captain said to them, \"Let him\nalone; if he scrabble, we will drive him away and kill him; but\nif he write well, I will adopt him as my son, for I never saw so\nintelligent and well-mannered an ape; and would God my son had\nhis sense and good breeding!\" So I took the pen and dipping it in\nthe inkhorn, wrote in an epistolary hand the following verses:\n\nTime hath recorded the virtues of the great: But thine have\n     remained unchronicled till now.\nMay God not orphan the human race of thee, For sire and mother of\n     all good deeds art thou.\n\nThen I wrote the following in a running hand:\n\nThou hast a pen whose use confers good gifts on every clime; Upon\n     all creatures of the world its happy favours fall.\nWhat are the bounties of the Nile to thy munificence, Whose\n     fingers five extend to shower thy benefits on all?\n\nAnd in an engrossing hand the following:\n\nThere is no writer but he shall pass away: Yet what he writes\n     shall last for ever and aye.\nWrite, therefore, nought but that which shall gladden thee, When\n     as it meets thine eye on the Judgment Day.\n\nAnd in a transcribing hand the following:\n\nWhen separation is to us by destiny decreed And 'gainst the cruel\n     chance of Fate our efforts are in vain,\nUnto the inkhorn's mouth we fly that, by the tongues of pens, Of\n     parting and its bitterness it may for us complain.\n\nAnd in a large formal hand the following:\n\nThe regal state endureth not to any mortal man. If thou deny\n     this, where is he who first on earth held sway?\nPlant therefore saplings of good deeds, whilst that thou yet art\n     great Though thou be ousted from thy stead, they shall not\n     pass away.\n\nAnd in a court hand the following:\n\nWhen thou the inkhorn op'st of power and lordship over men, Make\n     thou thine ink of noble thoughts and generous purpose; then\nWrite gracious deeds and good therewith, whilst that thy power\n     endures. So shall thy virtues blazoned be at point of sword\n     and pen.\n\nThen I gave the scroll to the officers, who took it and returned\nwith it to the King. When he saw it, no writing pleased him but\nmine; so he said to his officers, \"Go to the writer of these\nlines and dress him in a splendid robe; then mount him on a mule\nand bring him to me with a band of music before him.\" At this\nthey smiled, and the King was wroth with them and said, \"O\naccursed ones, I give you an order, and ye laugh at me!\" \"O\nKing,\" answered they, \"we have good cause to laugh.\" Quoth he,\n\"What is it?\" And they replied, \"O King, thou orderest us to\nbring thee the man who wrote these lines: now he who wrote them\nis no man, but an ape belonging to the captain of the ship.\"\n\"Can this be true?\" asked he; and they said, \"Yea, by thy\nmunificence!\" The King was astonished at their report and shook\nwith mirth and said, \"I have a mind to buy this ape of the\ncaptain.\" Then he sent messengers to the ship and said to them,\n\"Dress him none the less in the robe and mount him on the mule\nand bring him hither in state, with the band of music before\nhim.\" So they came to the ship and took me and clad me in the\nrobe and mounted me on the mule and carried me in procession\nthrough the city; whilst the people were astounded and crowded to\ngaze upon me, and the place was all astir on my account. When I\nreached the King's presence, I kissed the earth before him three\ntimes, and he bade me be seated; so I sat down on my heels; and\nall the bystanders marvelled at my good manners, and the King\nmost of all. After awhile the King dismissed his courtiers, and\nthere remained but myself, his highness the King, an eunuch and a\nlittle white slave. Then the King gave orders and they brought\nthe table of food, containing all kinds of birds that hop and fly\nand couple in the nests, such as grouse and quails and so forth.\nHe signed to me to eat with him; so I rose and kissed the earth\nbefore him then sat down and ate with him. When we had done\neating, the table was removed, and I washed my hands seven times.\nThen I took pen and ink and wrote the following verses:\n\nWeep for the cranes that erst within the porringers did lie, And\n     for the stews and partridges evanished heave a sigh!\nMourn for the younglings of the grouse; lament unceasingly, As,\n     for the omelettes and the fowls browned in the pan, do I.\nHow my heart yearneth for the fish, that in its different kinds,\n     Upon a paste of wheaten flour lay hidden in the pie!\nPraised be God for the roast meat! As in the dish it lay, With\n     pot-herbs, soaked in vinegar, in porringers hard by!\nMy hunger was appeased: I lay, intent upon the gleam Of arms that\n     in the frumenty were buried bracelet high.\nI woke my sleeping appetite to eat, as 'twere in jest, Of all the\n     tarts that, piled on trays, shone fair unto the eye.\nO soul, have patience! For indeed, Fate full of marvel is: If\n     fortune straiten thee one day, the next relief is nigh.\n\nThen I rose and seated myself at a distance, whilst the King read\nwhat I had written and marvelled and said \"Strange that an ape\nshould be gifted with such fluency and skill in penmanship! By\nAllah, this is a wonder of wonders!\" Then they set choice wine\nbefore the King in flagons of glass; and he drank, then passed\nthe cup to me; and I kissed the earth and drank and wrote the\nfollowing verses:\n\nThey burnt me[FN#33] with fire, to make me speak, And found me\n     patient and debonair.\nFor this I am borne on men's hands on high And kiss the rosy lips\n     of the fair!\n\nAnd these also:\n\nMorn struggles through the dusk; so pour me out, I pray, Of wine,\n     such wine as makes the saddest-hearted gay!\nSo pure and bright it is, that whether wine in glass Or glass in\n     wine be held, i' faith, 'tis hard to say.\n\nThe King read them and said, with a sigh, \"If a man had this\nquickness of wit, he would excel all the folk of his age and\ntime.\" Then he called for a chess-board and said to me, \"Wilt\nthou play with me?\" I signed with my head as who should say,\n\"Yes,\" and came forward and placed the men and played two games\nwith him, each of which I won, much to his amazement. Then I took\nthe pen and wrote the following verses:\n\nTwo hosts throughout the live-long day contend in deadly fight,\n     That waxes ever till the shades of night upon them creep;\nThen, when the darkness puts an end at last unto their strife,\n     Upon one couch and side by side, they lay them down to\n     sleep.\n\nThese verses filled the King with wonder and delight, and he said\nto the eunuch, \"Go to thy mistress, the Lady of Beauty, and bid\nher come and amuse herself with the sight of this wonderful ape.\"\nSo the eunuch went out and presently returned with the lady, who,\nwhen she saw me, veiled her face, and said, \"O my father, how\ncomes it that thou art pleased to send for me and show me to\nstrange men?\" \"O my daughter,\" said he, \"there is none here save\nthe little slave and the eunuch who reared thee and myself, thy\nfather. From whom then dost thou veil thy face?\" Quoth she, \"This\nthat thou deemest an ape is a wise and learned man, the son of a\nking; the Afrit Jerjis of the lineage of Iblis enchanted him\nthus, after putting to death his own wife, the daughter of King\nEfitamous, Lord of the Ebony Islands.\" At this the King wondered\nand turning to me, said, \"Is this true that she says of thee?\"\nAnd I signed with my head, as who should say, \"Yes;\" and wept.\nThen said he to his daughter, \"Whence knewest thou that he was\nenchanted?\" \"O my father,\" answered she, \"there was with me, in\nmy childhood, an old woman who was skilled in magic and taught me\nits rules and practice; and I became skilled therein and\ncommitted to memory a hundred and seventy magical formulas, by\nthe least of which I could transport the stones of thy?? behind\nthe mountain Caf and make its site an abyss of the sea and its\npeople fishes swimming in its midst.\" \"O my daughter,\" said her\nfather, \"I conjure thee, by my life, to disenchant this young\nman, that I may make him my Vizier, for he is a right pleasant\nand ingenious youth.\" \"With all my heart,\" replied she, and\ntaking a knife, on which were engraved Hebrew characters, drew\ntherewith a circle in the midst of the hall and wrote there in\nnames and talismans and muttered words and charms, some of which\nwe understood and others not. Presently the world darkened upon\nus, and the Afrit presented himself before us in his own shape\nand aspect, with hands like pitchforks legs like masts and eyes\nlike flames of fire. We were affrighted at him, but the princess\nsaid to him, \"An ill welcome to thee, O dog!\" Whereupon he took\nthe form of a lion and said to her, \"O traitress, thou hast\nbroken thy compact with me! Did we not swear that neither of us\nshould molest the other?\" \"O accursed one,\" answered she, \"how\ncould there be a compact between me and the like of thee?\"\n\"Then,\" said he, \"take what thou hast brought on thyself.\" And\nopening his mouth, rushed upon her: but she made haste and\nplucked a hair from her head and waved it in the air, muttering\nthe while; and it at once became a sharp sword, with which she\nsmote the lion and cut him in two. His head became a scorpion,\nwhereupon the princess transformed herself into a great serpent\nand fell upon the scorpion and there befell a sore battle between\nthem. Presently the scorpion changed to an eagle, and the serpent\nat once became a griffin, which pursued the eagle a long while,\ntill the latter became a black cat. Thereupon the griffin became\na piebald wolf and they fought long and sore, till the cat\nfinding itself beaten, changed into a worm and crept into a\npomegranate which lay beside the fountain in the midst of the\nhall whereupon the pomegranate swelled till it was as big as a\nwatermelon. The wolf ran to seize it, but it rose into the air\nand falling on the pavement, broke in pieces, and all the seeds\nfell out and rolled hither and thither, till the floor was\ncovered with them. Then the wolf shook itself and became a cock,\nwhich fell to picking up the seeds, till they were all gone,\nexcept one that, by the decree of Fate, had rolled to the side of\nthe basin and lay hidden there. The cock began to crow and clap\nits wings and signed to us with his beak, as who should say,\n\"Are there any grains left?\" But we understood him not; and he\ngave such a cry that we thought the palace would fall on us.\nThen he ran about all over the hall, till he saw the remaining\npomegranate-seed, and rushed to pick it up, but it sprang into\nthe midst of the water and became a fish, which sank to the\nbottom of the basin. Thereupon the cock became big fish and\nplunged in after the other; and we saw nothing of them for\na time, but heard a loud crying and screaming and trembled.\nPresently the Afrit rose out of the water, as he were one great\nflame, with fire and smoke issuing from his mouth and eyes and\nnostrils. Immediately after, the princess rose also, like a great\ncoal of fire, and they fought till they were wrapped in flames\nand the hall was filled with smoke. As for us, we were well-nigh\nsuffocated and hid ourselves and would have plunged into the\nwater, fearing lest we be burnt up and destroyed: and the King\nsaid, \"There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High,\nthe Supreme! We are God's and to Him we return! Would God I had\nnot urged my daughter to attempt the delivery of this ape,\nwhereby I have imposed on her this fearful labour with yonder\naccursed Afrit, against whom all the other Afrits in the world\ncould not prevail! And would we had never seen this ape, may\nGod's blessing not be on him nor on the hour of his coming! We\nthought to do him a kindness for the love of God, by freeing him\nfrom this enchantment, and lo, we have brought this terrible\ntravail upon ourselves!\" But my tongue was tied and I could not\nsay a word to him. Suddenly, the Afrit roared out from under the\nflames and coming up to us, as we stood on the dais, blew fire in\nour faces. The princess pursued him and blew flames at him, and\nthe sparks from them both fell upon us; her sparks did us no\nhurt, but of his one lighted on my right eye and destroyed it;\nanother fell on the King's face and scorched the lower part,\nburning away half his beard and making his under teeth drop out,\nand a third lighted on the eunuch's breast and set him on fire,\nso that he was consumed and died forthright. So we despaired of\nlife and looked for nothing but death; but presently we heard a\nvoice exclaiming, \"God is most great! He giveth aid and victory\nto the true believer and abandoneth him who denieth the religion\nof Mohammed, the Moon of the Faith!\" And lo, the King's daughter\nhad burnt up the Afrit and he was become a heap of ashes! Then\nshe came up to us and said, \"Bring me a cup of water.\" They did\nso: and she spoke over the water words we understood not and\nsprinkled me with it, saying, \"By the virtue of the Truth and of\nthe Most Great Name of God, return to thine original shape!\" And\nimmediately I shook and became a man as before, save that I had\nlost my right eye. Then she cried out, \"The fire! The fire! O my\nfather, I have but an instant to live, for I am not used to fight\nwith Jinn: had he been a man, I had slain him long ago. I had no\ntravail till the time when the pomegranate burst asunder and I\noverlooked the seed in which was the genie's life. Had I picked\nit up, he would have died at once; but as fate and destiny would\nhave it, I knew not of this, so that he came upon me unawares and\nthere befell between us a sore strife under the earth and in the\nair and in the water: and as often as I opened on him a\ngate[FN#34] (of magic), he opened on me another, till at last he\nopened on me the gate of fire, and seldom does he on whom the\ngate of fire is opened escape alive. But Providence aided me\nagainst him, so that I consumed him first, after I had summoned\nhim to embrace the faith of Islam. As for me, I am a dead woman\nand may God supply my place to you!\" Then she called upon God for\nhelp and ceased not to implore relief from the fire, till\npresently a tongue of fierce flame broke out from her clothes and\nshot up to her breast and thence to her face. When it reached her\nface, she wept and said, \"I testify that there is no god but God\nand that Mohammed is the apostle of God!\" And we looked at her\nand behold, she was a heap of ashes beside those of the genie. We\nmourned for her and I wished I had been in her place, so had I\nnot seen the fair-faced one who had done me this good office\nreduced to ashes; but there is no averting the decree of God.\nWhen the King saw what had befallen his daughter, he plucked out\nthe rest of his beard and buffeted his face and rent his clothes;\nand I did the like, and we both wept for her. Then came in the\nchamberlains and grandees and were amazed to find two heaps of\nashes and the Sultan in a swoon. So they stood round him till he\nrevived and told them what had happened, whereat they were sore\nafflicted and the women and slave-girls shrieked aloud and kept\nup their lamentation for the space of seven days. Moreover, the\nKing bade build a great dome over his daughter's ashes and burn\ntherein candles and lamps: but the Afrit's ashes they scattered\nto the winds, committing them to the malediction of God. The King\nwas sick, well-nigh unto death, for a month's space, after which\nhealth returned to him and His beard grew again. Then he sent for\nme and said to me, \"O youth, verily we led the happiest of lives,\nsafe from the vicissitudes of fortune, till thou camest to us,\nwhen troubles flocked upon us. O that we had never seen thee nor\nthe ugly face of thee! For through our taking pity on thee, we\nare come to this state of bereavement. I have lost, on thine\naccount, first, my daughter, who was worth a hundred men;\nsecondly, I have suffered what befell me by the fire and the loss\nof my teeth, and my eunuch also is dead. I do not indeed blame\nthee for aught of this; for all was decreed of God to us and to\nthee; and praised be He that my daughter delivered thee, though\nat the cost of her own life! But now, O my son, depart from my\ncity and let what has befallen us on thine account suffice.\nDepart in peace, and if I see thee again I will kill thee.\" And\nhe cried out at me. So I went forth from his presence, knowing\nnot whither I should go, and hardly believing in my escape. And I\nrecalled all that had befallen me from first to last and thanked\nGod that it was my eye that I had lost and not my life. Before I\nleft the town, I entered the bath and shaved my head and put on a\nhair-cloth garment. Then I fared forth at a venture, and every\nday I recalled all the misfortunes that had befallen me and wept\nand repeated the following verses:\n\nBy the Compassionate, I'm dazed and know not where I go. Griefs\n     flock on me from every side, I know not whence they grow.\nI will endure till patience' self less patient is than I: I will\n     have patience till it please the Lord to end my woe.\nA vanquished man, without complaint, my doom I will endure, As\n     the parched traveller in the waste endures the torrid glow.\nI will endure till aloes'[FN#35] self confess that I, indeed, Can\n     'gainst a bitt'rer thing abide than even it can show.\nThere is no bitt'rer thing; and yet if patience play me false, It\n     were to me a bitt'rer thing than all the rest, I trow.\nThe wrinkles graven on my heart would speak my hidden pain If\n     through my breast the thought could pierce and read what\n     lies below.\nWere but my load on mountains laid, they'd crumble into dust; On\n     fire it would be quenched outright; on wind, 'twould cease\n     to blow.\nLet who will say that life is sweet; to all there comes a day\n     When they must needs a bitt'rer thing than aloes[FN#36]\n     undergo.\n\nThen I journeyed through many lands and cities, intending for the\nAbode of Peace[FN#37], Baghdad, in the hope that I might get\nspeech of the Commander of the Faithful and tell him all that had\nbefallen me. I arrived here this night and found my brother, this\nfirst Calender, standing perplexed; so I saluted him and entered\ninto converse with him. Presently up came our brother, this third\nCalender, and said to us, \"Peace be on you! I am a stranger.\" \"We\nalso are strangers,\" answered we, \"and have come hither this\nblessed night.\" So we all three walked on together, none of us\nknowing the others' story, till chance brought us to this door\nand we came in to you. This, then, is my story and the manner of\nthe shaving of my face and the loss of my eye.' Quoth the\nmistress of the house, 'Thy story is indeed a rare one: and now\nbegone about thy business.' But he replied, 'I will not stir till\nI hear the others' stories.' Then came forward the third Calender\nand said, 'O illustrious lady, my history is not like that of\nthese my comrades, but still stranger and more marvellous, in\nthat, whilst destiny and fore-ordained fate overcame them\nunawares, I with mine own hand drew fate and affliction upon\nmyself, as thou shalt presently hear. Know that\n\n\n\n\n                  Story of the Third Calender.\n\n\n\nI also am a king, the son of a king, and my name is Agib, son of\nKhesib. My father died, and I took the kingdom after him and\nruled my subjects with justice and beneficence. My capital city\nstood on the shore of a wide spreading sea, on which I had fifty\nmerchant ships and fifty smaller vessels for pleasure and a\nhundred and fifty cruisers equipped for war; and near at hand\nwere many great islands in the midst of the ocean. Now I loved to\nsail the sea and had a mind to visit the islands aforesaid so I\ntook ship with a month's victual and set out and took my pleasure\nin the islands and returned to my capital Then, being minded to\nmake a longer voyage upon the ocean, I fitted out half a score\nships with provision for two months and sailed twenty days, till\none night the wind blew contrary and the sea rose against us with\ngreat billows; the waves clashed together and there fell on us a\ngreat darkness. So we gave ourselves up for lost and I said, \"He\nwho perils himself is not to be commended, though he come off\nsafe.\" Then we prayed to God and besought Him, but the wind\nceased not to rage and the waves to clash together, till\ndaybreak, when the wind fell, the sea became calm and the sun\nshone out. Presently we sighted an island, where we landed and\ncooked food and ate and rested two days. Then we set out again\nand sailed other twenty days, without seeing land; but the\ncurrents carried us out of our true course, so that the captain\nlost his reckoning and finding himself in strange waters, bade\nthe watch go up to the mast-head and look out. So he climbed the\nmast and looked out and said \"O captain, I see nothing to right\nand left save sky and water, but ahead I see something looming\nafar off in the midst of the sea, now black and now white.\" When\nthe captain heard the look-out's words, he cast his turban on the\ndeck and plucked out his beard and buffeted his face and said, \"O\nKing, we are all dead men, not one of us can be saved.\" We all\nwept for his weeping and I said to him, \"O captain, tell us what\nit is the look-out saw.\" \"O my lord,\" answered he, \"know that we\nlost our way on the night of the storm and since then we have\ngone astray one-and-twenty days and there is no wind to bring us\nback to our true course. To-morrow, by the end of the day, we\nshall come to a mountain of black stone, called loadstone, for\nthither the currents bear us perforce. As soon as we come within\na certain distance, all the nails in the ships will fly out and\nfasten to the mountain, and the ships will open and fall to\npieces, for that God the Most High has gifted the loadstone with\na secret virtue, by reason whereof all iron is attracted to it;\nand on this mountain is much iron, how much God only knows, from\nthe many ships that have been wrecked there from old time. On its\nsummit there stands a dome of brass, raised on ten columns and on\nthe top of the dome are a horse and horseman of the same metal.\nThe latter holds in his hand a brazen lance and on his breast is\na tablet of lead, graven with names and talismans: and, O King,\nit is nought but this horseman that causeth the folk to perish,\nnor will the charm be broken till he fall from his horse.\" Then\nhe wept sore and we all made sure of death and each took leave of\nhis comrade and charged him with his last wishes, in case he\nshould be saved. That night we slept not, and in the morning, we\nsighted the loadstone mountain, towards which the currents\ncarried us with irresistible force. When the ships came within a\ncertain distance, they opened and the nails started out and all\nthe iron in them sought the loadstone and clove to it; so that by\nthe end of the day, we were all struggling in the sea round the\nmountain. Some of us were saved, but the most part drowned, and\neven those who escaped knew not one of the other, being stupefied\nby the raging wind and the buffeting of the waves. As for me, God\npreserved me that I might suffer that which He willed to me of\ntrouble and torment and affliction, for I got on a plank from one\nof the ships and, the wind driving it ashore, I happened on a\npathway leading to the top, as it were a stair hewn out of the\nrock. So I called upon the name of God the Most High and besought\nHis succour and clinging to the steps, addressed myself to climb\nup little by little. And God stilled the wind and aided me in my\nascent, so that I reached the summit in safety. There I found\nnothing but the dome; so I entered, mightily rejoiced at my\nescape, and made my ablutions and prayed a two-bow prayer[FN#38]\nin gratitude to God for my preservation. Then I fell asleep under\nthe dome and saw in a dream one who said to me, \"O son of Khesib,\nwhen thou awakest, dig under thy feet and thou wilt find a bow of\nbrass and three leaden arrows, inscribed with talismanic\ncharacters. Take the bow and shoot the arrows at the horseman on\nthe top of the dome and rid mankind of this great calamity. When\nthou shootest at him, he will fall into the sea and the horse\nwill drop at thy feet: take it and bury it in the place of the\nbow. This done, the sea will swell and rise till it is level with\nthe top of the mountain, and there will appear on it a boat\ncontaining a man of brass (other than he whom thou shalt have\nthrown down), with an oar in his hands. He will come to thee, and\ndo thou embark with him, but beware of naming God. He will row\nwith thee for the space of ten days, till he brings thee to a\nport of safety, where thou shalt find those who will carry thee\nto thine own country: and all this shall be fulfilled to thee, so\nthou pronounce not the name of God.\" I started up from my sleep\nand hastening to do the bidding of the mysterious voice, found\nthe bow and arrows and shot at the horseman and overthrew him;\nwhereupon he fell into the sea, whilst the horse dropped at my\nfeet and I took it and buried it. Then the sea grew troubled and\nrose till it reached the top of the mountain; nor had I long to\nwait before I saw a boat in the midst of the sea coming towards\nme. So I gave thanks to God: and when the boat came up to me, I\nsaw in it a man of brass, with a tablet of lead on his breast,\ninscribed with names and talismans; and I embarked without saying\na word. The boatman rowed on with me for ten whole days, till I\ncaught sight of islands and mountains and signs of safety;\nwhereat I was beyond measure rejoiced and in the excess of my\ngladness, I called upon the name of the Almighty and exclaimed,\n\"There is no god but God! God is most great!\" When behold, the\nboat turned over and cast me out into the sea, then righted and\nsank beneath the water. Now, I knew how to swim, so I swam the\nwhole day till nightfall, when my arms and shoulders failed me\nfor fatigue, and I abode in mortal peril and made the profession\nof the Faith[FN#39], looking for nothing but death. Presently,\nthe sea rose, for the greatness of the wind, and a wave like a\ngreat rampart took me and bearing me forward, cast me up on the\nland, that the will of God might be done. I clambered up the\nbeach and, putting off my clothes, wrung them and spread them out\nto dry, then lay down and slept all night. As soon as it was day,\nI put on my clothes and rose to look about me. Presently I came\nto a grove of trees and making a circuit round it, found that I\nwas on a little island, surrounded on all sides by the sea;\nwhereupon I said to myself, \"No sooner do I escape from one peril\nthan I fall into a worse.\" But as I was pondering my case and\nwishing for death, I spied a ship afar off making towards me; so\nI climbed up into a tree and hid myself among the branches.\nPresently the ship came to an anchor, and ten slaves landed,\nbearing spades, and made for the middle of the island, where they\ndug till they uncovered a trapdoor and raised it. Then they\nreturned to the ship and brought thence bread and flour and oil\nand honey and meat and carpets and all else that was needed to\nfurnish one dwelling there; nor did they leave going back and\nforth till they had transferred to the underground dwelling all\nthat was in the ship: after which they again repaired to the\nvessel and returned, laden with wearing apparel of the finest\nkind and in their midst a very old man, whom time had mauled till\nhe was wasted and worn, as he were a bone wrapped in a rag of\nblue cloth, through which the winds blew East and West. As says\nthe poet of him:\n\nTime makes us tremble ah, how piteously! For full of violence and\n     might is he.\nOnce on a time I walked and was not tired: Now am I tired, yet\n     have not walked, ah me!\n\nHe held by the hand a youth cast in the mould of symmetry and\nperfection, so fair that his beauty might well be the subject of\nproverbs; for he was like a tender sapling, ravishing every heart\nwith his beauty and seducing every wit with his amorous grace. It\nwas of him the poet spoke, when he said:\n\nBeauty they brought to liken it with him: But Beauty hung its\n     head for shame and fear.\n\"O Beauty,\" said they, \"dost thou know his like?\" It answered,\n     \"Never have I seen his peer.\"\n\nThey proceeded to the underground, where they descended all and\ndid not reappear for an hour or more, at the end of which time\nthe old man and the slaves came up, without the youth, and\nreplacing the trap-door, covered it again with earth; then\nreturned to the ship and set sail. As soon as they were out of\nsight, I came down from the tree and going to the place I had\nseen them fill up, made shift to clear away the earth, till I\ncame to the trap-door, which was of wood, the shape and bigness\nof a mill-stone, and raised it, when there appeared underneath a\nwinding stair of stone. At this I wondered and descending, came\nto a fair chamber, spread with various kinds of carpets and hung\nwith silken stuffs, where I saw the youth sitting alone upon a\nraised couch and leant upon a cushion, with a fan in his hand and\nsweet-scented flowers and herbs and fruits before him. When he\nsaw me, he turned pale; but I saluted him, saying, \"Calm thyself\nand put away fear; no harm shall come to thee: I am a man like\nunto thee and a king's son, whom Providence hath sent to bear\nthee company in thy solitude. But now tell me thy history and why\nthou dwellest underground by thyself.\" When he was assured that I\nwas of his kind, he was glad and his colour returned; then he\nmade me draw near to him and said, \"O my brother, my story is a\nstrange one, and it is as follows. My father is a merchant\njeweller, possessed of great wealth and having black and white\nslaves, who make trading voyages, on his account, in ships and on\ncamels, to the most distant countries; and he has dealings with\nkings. Until my birth, he had never been blessed with a child,\nbut one night he dreamt that a son had been born to him, who\nlived but a short time, and awoke weeping and crying out. The\nfollowing night my mother conceived and he took note of the date\nof her conception. The days of her pregnancy were accomplished\nand she gave birth to myself, whereupon my father rejoiced and\nmade banquets and fed the poor and the needy for that I had been\nvouchsafed to him in his old age. Then he assembled the\nastrologers and mathematicians of the day and those learned in\nnativities and horoscopes; and they drew my horoscope and said to\nmy father, 'Thy son will live till the age of fifteen, at which\ndate there is a break[FN#40] in his line of life, which if he\ntide over in safety, he shall live long. The danger with which he\nis threatened is as follows. In the Sea of Peril stands a\nmountain called the Loadstone Mountain, on whose summit is a\nhorseman of brass, seated on a horse of the same metal, with a\ntablet of lead on his breast. Fifty days after this horseman\nfalls from his horse, thy son will die, and his slayer will be he\nwho overthrows the statue, a king called Agib, son of Khesib.' My\nfather was sore concerned at this prediction; but he brought me\nup and gave me a good education, till I attained my fifteenth\nyear. Ten days ago, news came to him that the horseman had fallen\ninto the sea and that he who overthrew him was Agib, son of King\nKhesib; whereat he was as one distraught and feared for my life.\nSo he built me this place under the earth and stocking it with\nall that I need during the forty days that yet remain of the\nperiod of danger, transported me hither, that I might be safe\nfrom King Agib's hands. When the forty days are past, he will\ncome back and fetch me; and this is my story and why thou findest\nme here alone.\" When I heard his story, I marvelled and said to\nmyself, \"I am that King Agib of whom he speaks; but, by Allah, I\nwill assuredly not kill him!\" And I said to him, \"O my lord, God\nwilling, thou shalt be spared suffering and death, nor shalt thou\nsee trouble or sorrow or disquiet, for I will abide with thee and\nserve thee; and when I have borne thee company during the\nappointed days, I will go with thee to thy dwelling-place and\nthou shalt bring me to some of thy father's servants, with whom I\nmay journey to my own country; and God shall requite thee for\nme.\" He rejoiced in my words and we sat conversing till nightfall\nwhen I rose and lighted a great wax candle and fed the lamps and\nset on meat and drink and sweetmeats. We ate and drank and sat\ntalking till late into the night, when he lay down to sleep and I\ncovered him up and went to sleep myself. Next morning, I rose and\nheated a little water, then woke him gently and brought him the\nwarm water, with which he washed his face and thanked me, saying,\n\"God requite thee with good, O youth! By Allah, if I escape from\nthis my danger and from him they call Agib ben Khesib, I will\nmake my father reward thee!\" \"May the day never come on which\nevil shall befall thee,\" answered I, \"and may God appoint my last\nday before thine!\" Then I set on food and we ate, and I made\nready perfumes with which he scented himself. Moreover, I made\nhim a backgammon board[FN#41], and we played and ate sweetmeats\nand played again till nightfall when I rose and lighting the\nlamps, set on food; and we ate and sat talking till the night was\nfar spent. Then he lay down to sleep and I covered him up and\nwent to sleep myself. Thus I did with him, day and night, and the\nlove of him got hold upon my heart and I forgot my troubles and\nsaid to myself, \"The astrologers lied; by Allah, I will not kill\nhim!\" I ceased not to serve him and bear him company and\nentertain him thus, till nine-and-thirty days were passed and we\ncame to the morning of the fortieth day, when he rejoiced and\nsaid to me, \"O my brother, the forty days are up to-day, praised\nbe God who hath preserved me from death, and this by thy blessing\nand the blessing of thy coming to me, and I pray Him to restore\nthee to thy country! But now, O my brother, I prithee heat me\nsome water, that I may wash my body and change my clothes.\"\n\"With all my heart,\" answered I; and heated water in plenty\nand carrying it in to him, washed his body well with\nlupin-meal[FN#42] and rubbed him down and changed his clothes and\nspread him a high bed, on which he lay down to rest after the\nbath. Then said he, \"O my brother, cut me a melon and sweeten it\nwith sugar-candy.\" So I went to the closet and bringing a fine\nmelon I found there on a platter, said to him, \"O my lord, hast\nthou no knife?\" \"Here it is,\" answered he, \"on the high shelf at\nmy head.\" So I got up hurriedly and taking the knife, drew it\nfrom its sheath; but in stepping down backward, my foot slipped\nand I fell heavily on the youth, holding in my hand the knife,\nwhich hastened to fulfil that which was ordained and entered his\nheart, and he died forthright. When I saw that he was no more and\nthat I had indeed killed him, I cried out grievously and buffeted\nmy face and tore my clothes, saying, \"We are God's and to Him we\nreturn! There remained for this youth but one day of the period\nof danger that the astrologers had foretold for him, and the\ndeath of this fair one was to be at my hand! Verily, my life is\nnought but disasters and afflictions! Would he had not asked me\nto cut the melon or would I had died before him! But what God\ndecrees cometh to pass.\" When I was certain that there was no\nlife left in him, I rose and ascending the stair, replaced the\ntrap-door and covered it with earth. Then I looked out to sea and\nsaw the ship cleaving the waters in the direction of the island.\nWhereat I was afeared and said, \"They will be here anon and will\nfind their son dead and know 'twas I killed him and will slay me\nwithout fail.\" So I climbed up into a high tree and hid myself\namong the leaves. Hardly had I done so, when the vessel came to\nan anchor and the slaves landed with the old man and made direct\nfor the place, where they cleared away the earth and were\nsurprised to find it soft.[FN#43] Then they raised the trap-door\nand going down, found the boy lying dead, clad in clean clothes,\nwith his face shining from the bath and the knife sticking in his\nbreast. At this sight, they shrieked aloud and wept and buffeted\ntheir faces and cried out, \"Alas! woe worth the day!\" whilst the\nold man swooned away and remained so long insensible, that the\nslaves thought he would not survive his son. So they wrapped the\ndead youth in his clothes and carried him up and laid him on the\nground, covering him with a shroud of silk. Then they addressed\nthemselves to transport all that was in the place to the ship,\nand presently the old man revived and coming up after them, saw\nhis son laid out, whereupon he fell on the ground and strewed\ndust on his head and buffeted his face and tore his beard; and\nhis weeping redoubled, as he hung over his dead son, till he\nswooned away again. After awhile the slaves came back, with a\nsilken carpet, and laying the old man thereon, sat down at his\nhead. All this time I was in the tree above them, watching them;\nand indeed my heart became hoary before my head, for all the\ngrief and affliction I had undergone. The old man ceased not from\nhis swoon till nigh upon sundown, when he came to himself and\nlooking upon his dead son, recalled what had happened and how\nwhat he had feared had come to pass: and he buffeted his face and\nhead and recited the following verses:\n\nMy heart is cleft in twain for severance of loves; The burning\n     tears pour down in torrents from my eye.\nMy every wish with him I loved is fled away: What can I do or\n     say? what help, what hope have I?\nWould I had never looked upon his lovely face! Alas, the ways on\n     me are straitened far and nigh!\nWhat charm can bring me peace, what drink forgetfulness, Whilst\n     in my heart the fire of love burns fierce and high?\nWould that my feet had trod with him the road of death! Then\n     should I not, as now, in lonely sorrow sigh.\nO God, that art my hope, have pity upon me! Unite us twain, I\n     crave, in Paradise for aye!\nHow blessed were we once, whilst one house held us both And\n     twinned in pure content our happy lives passed by!\nTill fortune aimed at us the shafts of severance And parted us;\n     for who her arrows can defy?\nFor lo! the age's pearl, the darling of his folk, The mould of\n     every grace, was singled out to die!\nI call him back: \"Would God thine hour had never come!\" What\n     while the case takes speech and doth forestall my cry.\nWhich is the speediest way to win to thee, my son! My soul had\n     paid the price, if that thy life might buy.\nThe sun could not compare with him, for lo! it sets. Nor yet the\n     moon that wanes and wasteth from the sky.\nAlas, my grief for thee and my complaint of fate! None can\n     console for thee nor aught thy place supply.\nThy sire is all distraught with languishment for thee; Since\n     death upon thee came, his hopes are gone awry.\nSurely, some foe hath cast an envious eye on us: May he who\n     wrought this thing his just deserts aby!\n\nThen he sobbed once and gave up the ghost; whereupon the slaves\ncried out, \"Alas, our master!\" and strewed dust on their heads\nand wept sore. Then they carried the two bodies to the ship and\nset sail. As soon as they were out of sight, I came down from the\ntree and raising the trap-door, went down into the underground\ndwelling, where the sight of some of the youth's gear recalled\nhim to my mind, and I repeated the following verses:\n\nI see their traces and pine for longing pain; My tears rain down\n     on the empty dwelling-place!\nAnd I pray to God, who willed that we should part, One day to\n     grant us reunion, of His grace!\n\nThen I went up again and spent the day in walking about the\nisland, returning to the underground dwelling for the night. Thus\nI lived for a month, during which time I became aware that the\nsea was gradually receding day by day from the western side of\nthe island, till by the end of the month, I found that the water\nwas become low enough to afford a passage to the mainland. At\nthis I rejoiced, making sure of delivery, and fording the little\nwater that remained, made shift to reach the mainland, where I\nfound great heaps of sand, in which even a camel would sink up to\nthe knees. However, I took heart and making my way through the\nsand, espied something shining afar off, as it were a bright-blazing\nfire. So I made towards it, thinking to find succour\nand repeating the following verses:\n\nIt may be Fate at last shall draw its bridle-rein And bring me\n     happy chance; for Fortune changes still;\nAnd things shall happen yet, despite the things fordone, To\n     further forth my hopes and bring me to my will.\n\nWhen I drew near the supposed fire, behold, it was a palace, with\na gate of brass, whereon, when the sun shone, it gleamed and\nglistened and showed from afar, as it were a fire. I rejoiced at\nthe sight and sat down before the palace gate; but hardly had I\ndone so, when there came up ten young men, sumptuously clad and\nall blind of the right eye. They were accompanied by an old man;\nand I marvelled at their appearance and at their being all blind\nof the same eye. They saluted me and questioned me of my\ncondition, whereupon I told them all that had befallen me. They\nwondered at my story and carried me into the palace, where I saw\nten couches, with beds and coverlets of blue stuff, ranged in a\ncircle, with a like couch of smaller size in the midst. As we\nentered, each of the young men went up to his own couch, and the\nold man seated himself on the smaller one in the middle. Then\nsaid they unto me, \"O youth, sit down on the ground and enquire\nnot of our doings nor of the loss of our right eyes.\" Presently\nthe old man rose and brought each one of the young men and myself\nhis portion of meat and drink in separate vessels; and we sat\ntalking, they questioning me of my adventures and I replying,\ntill the night was far spent. Then said they to the old man, \"O\nelder, wilt thou not bring us our ordinary? The time is come.\"\n\"Willingly,\" answered he, and rose and entering a closet,\ndisappeared and presently returned, bearing on his head ten\ndishes, each covered with a piece of blue stuff. He set a dish\nbefore each youth and lighting ten wax-candles, set one upon each\ndish; after which he uncovered the dishes, and lo, they were full\nof ashes and powdered charcoal and soot. Then all the young men\ntucked up their sleeves and fell to weeping and lamenting; and\nthey blackened their faces and rent their clothes and buffeted\ntheir cheeks and beat their breasts, exclaiming \"We were seated\nat our ease, but our impertinent curiosity would not let us be!\"\nThey ceased not to do thus till near daybreak, when the old man\nrose and heated water for them, and they washed their faces and\nput on fresh clothes. When I saw this, my senses left me for\nwonderment and my heart was troubled and my mind perplexed, for\ntheir strange behaviour, till I forgot what had befallen me and\ncould not refrain from questioning them; so I said to them, \"What\nmakes you do thus, after our sport and merry-making together?\nPraised be God, ye are whole of wit, yet these are the doings of\nmadmen! I conjure you, by all that is most precious to you, tell\nme why you behave thus and how ye came to lose each an eye!\" At\nthis, they turned to me and said, \"O young man, let not thy youth\nbeguile thee, but leave thy questioning.\" Then they slept and I\nwith them, and when we awoke, the old man served up food; and\nafter we had eaten and the vessels had been removed, we sat\nconversing till nightfall, when the old man rose and lit the\ncandles and lamps and set meat and drink before us. We ate and\nsat talking and carousing till midnight, when they said to the\nold man, \"Bring us our ordinary, for the hour of sleep is at\nhand.\" So he rose and brought them the dishes of soot and ashes,\nand they did as they had done on the preceding night. I abode\nwith them on this wise for a month, during which time they\nblackened their faces every night, then washed them and changed\ntheir clothes and my trouble and amazement increased upon me till\nI could neither eat nor drink. At last, I lost patience and said\nto them, \"O young men, if ye will not relieve my concern and\nacquaint me with the reason of your blackening your faces and the\nmeaning of your words, 'We were seated at our ease, but our\nimpertinent curiosity would not let us be,' let me leave you and\nreturn to my own people and be at rest from seeing these things,\nfor as says the proverb,\n\n'Twere wiser and better your presence to leave, For when the eye\n     sees not, the heart does not grieve.\"\n\n\"O youth,\" answered they, \"we have not concealed this thing from\nthee but in our concern for thee, lest what befell us before thee\nand thou become like unto us.\" \"It avails not,\" said I; \"you must\ntell me.\" \"We give thee good advice,\" rejoined they; \"do thou\ntake it and leave questioning us of our case, or thou wilt become\none-eyed like unto us.\" But I still persisted in my demand and\nthey said, \"O youth, if this thing befall thee, we warn thee that\nwe will never again receive thee into our company nor let thee\nabide with us.\" Then they took a ram and slaughtering it, skinned\nit and gave me a knife, saying, \"Lie down on the skin and we will\nsew thee up in it and leave thee and go away. Presently there\nwill come to thee a bird called the roc[FN#44], that will catch\nthee up in its claws and fly away with thee and set thee down on\na mountain. As soon as thou feelest it alight with thee, slit the\nskin with the knife and come forth; whereupon the bird will take\nfright at thee and fly away and leave thee. Then rise and fare on\nhalf a day's journey, till thou comest to a palace rising high\ninto the air, builded of khelenj[FN#45] and aloes and sandal-wood\nand plated with red gold, inlaid with all manner emeralds and\nother jewels. There enter and thou wilt attain thy desire. We all\nhave been in that place, and this is the cause of the loss of our\nright eyes and the reason why we blacken our faces. Were we to\ntell thee our stories, it would take too much time, for each lost\nhis eye by a separate adventure.\" They then sewed me up in the\nskin and left me on the ground outside the palace; and the roc\ncarried me off and set me down on the mountain. I cut open the\nskin and came out, whereupon the bird flew away and I walked on\ntill I reached the palace. The door stood open; so I entered\nand found myself in a very wide and goodly hall, as big as a\ntilting-ground, round which were a hundred doors of sandal and\naloes-wood, plated with red gold and furnished with rings of\nsilver. At the upper end of the hall, I saw forty young ladies,\nsumptuously clad and adorned, as they were moons, one could never\ntire of gazing on them: and they all came up to me, saying,\n\"Welcome and fair welcome, O my lord! This month past have we\nbeen expecting the like of thee; and praised be God who hath sent\nus one who is worthy of us and we of him!\" Then they made me sit\ndown on a high divan and said to me, \"From to-day thou art our\nlord and master, and we are thy handmaids; so order us as thou\nwilt.\" And I marvelled at their case. Presently one of them arose\nand set food before me, and I ate, whilst others heated water and\nwashed my hands and feet and changed my clothes, and yet others\nmade ready sherbets and gave me to drink; and they were all full\nof joy and delight at my coming. Then they sat down and conversed\nwith me till nightfall, when five of them arose and spreading a\nmat, covered it with flowers and fruits and confections in\nprofusion and set on wine; and we sat down to drink, while some\nof them sang and others played the lute and psaltery and\nrecorders and other instruments. So the cup went round amongst us\nand such gladness possessed me that I forgot all the cares of the\nworld and said, \"This is indeed life, but that it is fleeting.\"\nWe ceased not to drink and make merry till the night was far\nspent and we were warm with wine, when they said to me, \"O our\nlord, choose from amongst us one who shall be thy bedfellow this\nnight and not lie with thee again till forty days be past.\" So I\nchose a girl fair of face, with liquid black eyes and jetty hair,\nslightly parted teeth[FN#46] and joining eyebrows, perfect in\nshape and form, as she were a palm-sapling or a stalk of sweet\nbasil; such an one as troubles the heart and bewilders the wit,\neven as saith of her the poet:\n\n'Twere vain to liken her unto the tender branch, And out on who\n     compares her form to the gazelle!\nWhence should gazelles indeed her shape's perfection get Or yet\n     her honeyed lips so sweet to taste and smell,\nOr those great eyes of hers, so dire to those who love, That bind\n     their victims fast in passion's fatal spell?\nI dote on her with all the folly of a child. What wonder if he\n     turn a child who loves too well!\n\nAnd I repeated to her the following verses:\n\nMy eyes to gaze on aught but thy grace disdain And none but thou\n     in my thought shall ever reign.\nThe love of thee is my sole concern, my fair; In love of thee, I\n     will die and rise again.\n\nSo I lay with her that night, never knew I a fairer, and when it\nwas morning, the ladies carried me to the bath and washed me and\nclad me in rich clothes. Then they served up food and we ate and\ndrank, and the cup went round amongst us till the night, when I\nchose from among them one who was fair to look upon and soft of\nsides, such an one as the poet describes, when he says:\n\nI saw upon her breast two caskets snowy-white, Musk-sealed; she\n     doth forbid to lovers their delight.\nShe guards them with the darts that glitter from her eyes; And\n     those who would them press, her arrowy glances smite.\n\nI passed a most delightful night with her; and to make a long\nstory short, I led the goodliest life with them, eating and\ndrinking and carousing and every night taking one or other of\nthem to my bed, for a whole year, at the end of which time they\ncame in to me in tears and fell to bidding me farewell and\nclinging to me, weeping and crying out; whereat I marvelled and\nsaid to them, \"What ails you? Indeed you break my heart.\" \"Would\nwe had never known thee!\" answered they. \"We have companied with\nmany men, but never saw we a pleasanter or more courteous than\nthou: and now we must part from thee. Yet it rests with thee to\nsee us again, and if thou hearken to us, we need never be parted:\nbut our hearts forebode us that thou will not hearken to us; and\nthis is the cause of our weeping\" \"Tell me how the case stands,\"\nsaid I; and they answered, \"Know that we are the daughters of\nkings, who have lived here together for years past, and once in\nevery year we are absent for forty days; then we return and abide\nhere for the rest of the year, eating and drinking and making\nmerry. We are now about to depart according to our custom, and we\nfear lest thou disobey our injunctions in our absence, in which\ncase we shall never see thee again; but if thou do as we bid\nthee, all will yet be well. Take these keys: they are those of\nthe hundred apartments of the palace, each of which contains what\nwill suffice thee for a day's entertainment. Ninety-and-nine of\nthese thou mayst open and take thy pleasure therein, but beware\nlest thou open the hundredth, that which has a door of red gold;\nfor therein is that which will bring about a separation between\nus and thee.\" Quoth I, \"I will assuredly not open the hundredth\ndoor, if therein be separation from you.\" Then one of them came\nup to me and embraced me and repeated the following verses:\n\nIf but the days once more our severed loves unite, If but my eyes\n     once more be gladdened by thy sight,\nThen shall the face of Time smile after many a frown, And I will\n     pardon Fate for all its past despite.\n\nAnd I repeated the following:\n\nWhen she drew near to bid farewell, upon our parting day, Whilst\n     on her heart the double stroke of love and longing smote,\nShe wept pure pearls, and eke mine eyes did rain cornelians\n     forth; And lo, they all combined and made a necklace for her\n     throat!\n\nWhen I saw her weeping, I said, \"By Allah, I will never open the\nhundredth door!\" Then they bade me farewell and departed, leaving\nme alone in the palace. When the evening drew near, I opened the\nfirst door and found myself in an orchard, full of blooming\ntrees, laden with ripe fruit, and the air resounded with the loud\nsinging of birds and the ripple of running waters. The sight\nbrought solace to my soul, and I entered and walked among the\ntrees, inhaling the odours of the flowers and listening to the\nwarble of the birds, that sang the praises of God the One, the\nAlmighty. I looked upon the apple, whose colour is parcel red and\nparcel yellow, as says the poet:\n\nThe apple in itself two colours doth unite, The loved one's cheek\n     of red, and yellow of despite.\n\nThen I looked upon the quince and inhaled its fragrance that puts\nmusk and ambergris to shame, even as says the poet:\n\nThe quince contains all pleasant things that can delight mankind,\n     Wherefore above all fruits that be its virtues are renowned.\nIts taste is as the taste of wine, its breath the scent of musk;\n     Its hue is that of virgin gold, its shape the full moon's\n     round.\n\nThence I passed to the pear, whose taste surpasses rose-water and\nsugar, and the plum, whose beauty delights the eye, as it were a\npolished ruby. When I had taken my fill of looking on the place,\nI went and locked the door again. Next day, I opened the second\ndoor and found myself in a great pleasaunce, set with many\npalm-trees and watered by a running stream, whose borders were\ndecked with bushes of rose and jessamine and henna[FN#47] and\ncamomile and marjoram and sweetbriar and carpeted with narcissus\nand ox-eye and violets and lilies and gillyflowers. The breeze\nfluttered over all these sweet-smelling plants and scattered\ntheir scents right and left, possessing me with complete delight.\nI took my pleasure in the place awhile, and my chagrin was\nsomewhat lightened. Then I went out and locked the door and\nopening the third door, found therein a great hall paved with\nvari-coloured marbles and other precious stones and hung with\ncages of sandal and aloes wood, full of singing-birds, such as\nthe thousand-voiced nightingale[FN#48] and the cushat and the\nblackbird and the turtle-dove and the Nubian warbler. My heart\nwas ravished by the song of the birds and I forgot my cares and\nslept in the aviary till the morning. Then I opened the fourth\ndoor and saw a great hall, with forty cabinets ranged on either\nside. The doors of the latter stood open; so I entered and found\nthem full of pearls and rubies and chrysolites and beryls and\nemeralds and corals and carbuncles and all manner of precious\nstones and jewels of gold and silver, such as the tongue fails to\ndescribe. I was amazed at what I saw and said in myself\n\"Methinks, if all the kings of the earth joined together they\ncould not produce the like of these treasures!\" And my heart\ndilated and I exclaimed, \"Now am I king of my time, for all these\nriches are mine by the favour of God, and I have forty young\nladies under my hand, nor is there any with them but myself!\" In\nshort, I passed nine-and-thirty days after this fashion,\nexploring the riches of the place, till I had opened all the\ndoors, except that which the princesses had charged me not to\nopen, but my thoughts ran ever on this latter and Satan urged me,\nfor my ruin, to open it, nor had I patience to forbear; though\nthere remained but one day of the appointed time. So I opened the\nhundredth door, that which was plated with red gold, and was met\nby a perfume, whose like I had never before smelt and which was\nof so subtle and penetrating a quality, that it invaded my head\nand I fell down, as if intoxicated, and lay awhile unconscious.\nThen I revived and took heart and entering, found myself in a\nplace strewn with saffron and blazing with light shed by lamps of\ngold and candles, that diffused a scent of musk and aloes. In the\nmidst stood two great censers, full of burning aloes wood and\nambergris and other perfumes, and the place was full of their\nfragrance. Presently I espied a horse, black as night at its\ndarkest, girt and bridled and saddled with red gold, standing\nbefore two mangers of white crystal, one full of winnowed sesame\nand the other of rose-water flavoured with musk. When I saw this,\nI was amazed and said to myself, \"Surely this horse must be of\nextraordinary value!\" and the devil tempted me, so that I took\nhim out and mounted him, but he would not stir. So I spurred him\nwith my heel, but he did not move; and I took a. switch and\nstruck him with it. When he felt the blow, he gave a neigh like\nthe roaring thunder, and spreading a pair of wings flew up with\nme high into the air. After awhile, he descended and set me down\non the terrace of a palace; then, shaking me off his back, he\nsmote me on the face with his tail and struck out my right eye\nand flew away, leaving me there. I went down into the palace and\nfound myself again among the ten one-eyed youths, who exclaimed,\nwhen they saw me, \"An ill welcome to thee!\" Quoth I, \"Behold, I\nam become like unto you, and now I would have you give me a dish\nof soot, that I may blacken my face and admit me to your\ncompany.\" \"By Allah,\" answered they, \"thou shalt not abide with\nus! Depart hence!\" And they drove me away. I was grieved at their\nrejection of me and went out from them, mourning-hearted and\ntearful-eyed, saying to myself, \"Of a truth, I was sitting at my\nease, but my impertinent curiosity would not let me be.\" Then I\nshaved my beard and eyebrows and renouncing the world, became a\nCalender and wandered about God's earth, till by His blessing, I\narrived at Baghdad in safety this evening and met with these two\nother Calenders standing bewildered. So I saluted them, saying,\n\"I am a stranger;\" to which they replied, \"We also are strangers.\"\nAnd, as it chanced, we were all Calenders and each blind of the\nright eye. This, then, O my lady, is my story and the manner of\nthe shaving of my face and the loss of my eye.' Quoth the\nmistress of the house, 'Begone about thy business.' But he said,\n'By Allah, I will not go, till I hear the others' stories!' Then\nshe turned to the Khalif and his companions and said, 'Give me an\naccount of yourselves.' So Jaafer came forward and repeated the\nstory he had told the portress; whereupon the lady said, 'I\npardon you all: go your ways.' So they all went out; and when\nthey reached the street the Khalif said to the Calenders, 'O folk,\nwhither are you bound now, seeing that it is not yet day?' 'By\nAllah, O my lord,' answered they, 'we know not where to go!'\n'Then come and pass the rest of the night with us,' said the\nKhalif, and turning to Jaafer, said to him, 'Take them home\nwith thee and to-morrow bring them before me, that we may cause\ntheir adventures to be recorded.' Jaafer did as the Khalif\nbade him, and the latter returned to his palace. Sleep did not\nvisit him that night, but he lay awake, pondering the adventures\nof the three Calenders and full of impatience to know the history\nof the two ladies and the black bitches; and no sooner had the\nday dawned than he went out and sat down on his chair of estate.\nThen his courtiers presented themselves and withdrew, whereupon\nhe turned to Jaafer and said to him, 'Bring me the three ladies\nand the bitches and the Calenders, and make haste.' So Jaafer\nwent out and brought them all before him and seated the ladies\nbehind a curtain; then turned to them and said, speaking for the\nKhalif, 'O women, we pardon you your rough usage of us, in\nconsideration of your previous kindness and for that ye knew us\nnot: and now I would have you to know that you are in the\npresence of the fifth of the sons of Abbas, the Commander of the\nFaithful Haroun er Reshid, son of El Mehdi Mohammed, son of Abou\nJaafer el Mensour. So do ye acquaint him with your stories and\ntell him nothing but the truth.' When the ladies heard Jaafer's\nspeech, the eldest came forward and said, 'O Commander of the\nFaithful, my story is one which, were it graven with needles on\nthe corners of the eye, would serve for an example to those who\ncan profit by example and a warning to those who can take\nwarning. And it is that\n\n\n\n\n                    The Eldest Lady's Story.\n\n\n\nThese two bitches are my elder sisters by the same mother and\nfather, and these two others, she on whom are the marks of blows\nand the cateress, are my sisters by another mother. When my\nfather died, each took her portion of the heritage, and after\nawhile my mother died also and left me and my sisters-german a\nthousand dinars each. After awhile my two sisters married and\nlived with their husbands for a time; then the latter bought\nmerchandise with their wives' money and set out on their travels,\nand I heard no more of them for five years: for their husbands\nspent their wives' fortunes and became bankrupt and deserted them\nin a foreign land. Presently, my eldest sister came back to me in\nthe guise of a beggar, with tattered clothes and a dirty old\nveil, and altogether in so sorry a plight, that at first I knew\nher not; but when I recognised her, I asked her how she came in\nsuch a state. \"O my sister,\" answered she, \"talking profits not\nnow: the pen[FN#49] hath written what was decreed.\" Then I sent\nher to the bath and clothed her in a suit of my own and entreated\nher kindly and said to her, \"O my sister, thou standest to me in\nthe stead of my father and mother; and God has blessed me in the\nshare of the inheritance that fell to me and prospered it to me,\nso that I am now in flourishing case; and thou shalt share with\nme in my increase.\" So she abode with me a whole year, during\nwhich time we were much concerned to know what was become of our\nother sister. At last, she too came back to me, in a worse plight\nthan the other, and I dealt still more kindly by her than by the\nfirst, and each of them had a share of my substance. After\nawhile, they said to me, \"O sister, we desire to marry again, for\nwe can no longer endure to live without husbands.\" \"O my dear\nones[FN#50],\" answered I, \"there is no good in marriage, for\nnow-a-days good men are rare to find; nor do I see the advantage\nof marrying again, since ye have already made trial of matrimony\nand it has profited you nothing.\" They would not listen to me,\nbut married without my consent; nevertheless I equipped them and\nportioned them with my own money and they went away with their\nhusbands. After a little, the latter cheated them of all they had\nand went away and left them. Then they came to me, in abject\ncase, and made their excuses to me, saying, \"Do not reproach us;\nthou art younger than we, but riper of wit, so take us as thy\nhandmaids, that we may eat our mouthful; and we will never again\nspeak of marriage.\" Quoth I, \"Ye are welcome, O my sisters: there\nis nothing dearer to me than you.\" And I took them in and\nredoubled in kindness to them. We lived thus for a whole year, at\nthe end of which time I was minded to travel. So I fitted out a\ngreat ship at Bassora and loaded her with merchandise and victual\nand other necessaries for a voyage, and said to my sisters, \"Will\nyou come with me or abide at home till I return?\" \"We will go\nwith thee,\" answered they, \"for we cannot endure to be parted\nfrom thee.\" So I took them and set sail, after dividing my money\ninto two parts, one of which I deposited with a trusty person,\nsaying, \"Maybe ill-hap shall betide the ship and yet we remain\nalive; but now, if we return, we shall find what will be of\nservice to us.\" We sailed days and nights, till the captain\nmissed the true course and the ship went astray with us and\nentered a sea other than that we aimed at. We knew not of this\nawhile and the wind blew fair for us ten days, at the end of\nwhich time, the watch went up to the mast-head, to look out, and\ncried, \"Good news!\" Then he came down, rejoicing, and said to us,\n\"I see a city in the distance as it were a dove.\" At this we\nrejoiced and before an hour of the day was past, the city\nappeared to us afar off: and we said to the captain, \"What is the\nname of yonder city?\" \"By Allah!\" replied he, \"I know not, for I\nnever saw it before nor have I ever sailed this sea in my life;\nbut since the affair has issued in safety, ye have nought to do\nbut to land your goods, and if ye find a market, sell and buy and\nbarter, as the occasion serves; if not, we will rest here two\ndays, re-victual and depart.\" So we entered the harbour and the\ncaptain landed and was absent awhile, after which he returned and\nsaid to us, \"Arise, go up into the city and marvel at God's\ndealings with His creatures and seek to be preserved from His\nwrath.\" So we landed and going up to the city, saw at the gate\nmen with staves in their hands; but when we drew near them,\nbehold, they had been stricken by the wrath of God and were\nbecome stones. Then we entered the city and found all its in\nhabitants changed into black stones: there was not a living soul\ntherein, no, not a blower of the fire. At this we were amazed and\npassed on through the bazaars, where we found all the goods and\ngold and silver left lying in their places, and rejoiced and\nsaid, \"Doubtless, there is some mystery in all this.\" Then we\ndispersed about the streets of the city and each busied himself\nwith making prize of the wealth and stuffs lying about and took\nno heed of his comrades, whilst I went up to the citadel and\nfound it goodly of fashion. I entered the king's palace and saw\nall the vessels of gold and silver and the king himself seated in\nthe midst of his officers and grandees, clad in raiment such as\nconfounded the wit. The throne on which he sat was encrusted with\npearls and jewels and his robes were of cloth of gold, adorned\nwith all manner jewels, that shone like stars. Around him stood\nfifty white slaves, with drawn swords in their hands and clad in\ndivers sorts of silken stuffs; but when I drew near to them,\nbehold, they were all black stones. My understanding was\nconfounded at the sight, but I went on and came to the saloon of\nthe harem, which I found hung with tapestries of gold-striped\nsilk and spread with carpets of the same, embroidered with\nflowers of gold. Here I saw the queen lying, arrayed in a robe\ncovered with fresh pearls as big as hazel-nuts and crowned with a\ndiadem set with all manner jewels. Her neck was covered with\ncollars and necklaces and all her clothes and ornaments were\nunchanged, but she herself had been smitten of God and was become\nblack stone. Presently I spied an open door, with seven steps\nleading to it, and going up, found myself in a place paved with\nmarble and hung and carpeted with gold-embroidered stuffs. At the\nupper end stood an alcove with drawn curtains and I saw a light\nissuing thence. So I went up to the alcove and found therein a\ncouch of juniper wood, inlaid with pearls and diamonds and set\nwith bosses of emeralds, with silken coverings of bewildering\nrichness and curtains of the same, looped up with pearls. At the\nhead of the bed stood two lighted candles and in the midst of the\nalcove was a little stool, on which lay a jewel, the size of a\ngoose's egg, that shone like a lamp and lighted the whole place;\nbut there was no one to be seen. When I saw these things, I\nwondered and said, \"Some one must have lighted these candles.\"\nThen I went out and came to the kitchen and thence to the buttery\nand the king's treasuries and continued to explore the palace and\nto go from place to place; and for wonderment at what I saw, I\nforgot myself and wandered on, lost in thought, till the night\novertook me. Then I would have gone out, but lost my way and\ncould not find the gate; so I returned to the alcove, where I lay\ndown on the bed and covering myself with a quilt, repeated\nsomewhat of the Koran and would have slept, but could not, for\nrestlessness possessed me. In the middle of the night, I heard a\nlow sweet voice reciting the Koran, whereat I rejoiced and\nrising, followed the sound, till it led me to a chamber with the\ndoor ajar. I looked through the chink of the door and saw an\noratory, wherein was a prayer-niche[FN#51], with candles burning\nand lamps hanging from the ceiling. In the midst was spread a\nprayer-carpet, on which sat a handsome youth, with a copy of the\nKoran open before him, from which he was reading. I wondered to\nsee him alone alive of all the people of the city and entered and\nsaluted him; whereupon he raised his eyes and returned my\nsalutation. Then said I, \"I implore thee, by the truth of that\nthou readest from the book of God, to answer me my questions.\" He\nlooked at me with a smile and said, \"O handmaid of God, tell me\nfirst how thou camest hither, and I will tell thee what has\nbefallen me and the people of this city and the manner of my\npreservation.\" So I told him my story, at which he marvelled, and\nquestioned him of the people of the city. Quoth he, \"Have\npatience with me a little, O my sister!\" and shutting the Koran,\nlaid it in a bag of satin. Then he made me sit down by his side,\nand I looked at him and behold, he was like the moon at its full,\nbright-faced, soft-sided, well-shaped and fair to look upon, as\nhe were a figure of sugar,[FN#52] even as says the poet of the\nlike of him:\n\nA seer of the stars one night was reading the book of the skies,\n     When lo, in his scroll he saw a lovely youth arise.\nSaturn had dyed his hair the hue of the raven's wing And\n     sprinkled upon his face the musk of Paradise[FN#53]:\nThe rose of his cheeks from Mars its ruddy colour drew, And the\n     Archer winged the shafts that darted from his eyes.\nHermes dowered the youth with his own mercurial wit, And the\n     Great Bear warded off the baleful glance of spies.\nWonder seized on the sage at the sight of the lovely boy, For the\n     full moon kissed the earth before him, servant-wise.\nAnd indeed God the Most High had clad him in the garment of\n     perfection and broidered it with the shining fringes of his\n     cheeks, even as says the poet of him:\nBy the perfume of his eyelids and his slender waist I swear, By\n     the arrows that he feathers with the witchery of his air,\nBy his sides so soft and tender and his glances bright and keen,\n     By the whiteness of his forehead and the blackness of his\n     hair,\nBy his arched imperious eyebrows, chasing slumber from my eyes,\n     With their yeas and noes that hold me 'twixt rejoicing and\n     despair,\nBy the myrtle of his whiskers and the roses of his cheeks, By his\n     lips' incarnate rubies and his teeth's fine pearls and rare,\nBy his neck and by its beauty, by the softness of his breast And\n     the pair of twin pomegranates that my eyes discover there,\nBy his heavy hips that tremble, both in motion and repose, And\n     the slender waist above them, all too slim their weight to\n     bear,\nBy his skin's unsullied satin and the quickness of his spright,\n     By the matchless combination in his form of all things fair,\nBy his hand's perennial bounty and his true and trusty speech, By\n     the stars that smile upon him, favouring and debonair,\nLo, the smell of musk none other than his very fragrance is, And\n     the ambergris's perfume breathes around him everywhere.\nYea, the sun in all its splendour cannot with his grace compare,\n     Seeming but a shining fragment that he from his nail doth\n     pare.\n\nI stole a look at him, which cost me a thousand sighs, for my\nheart was taken with his love, and I said to him, \"O my lord,\ntell me what I asked thee.\" \"I hear and obey,\" answered he.\n\"Know, O handmaid of God, that this city was the capital of my\nfather, who is the king thou sawest on the throne, changed to a\nblack stone, and as for the queen on the bed, she was my mother;\nand they and all the people of the city were Magians, worshipping\nthe fire, instead of the All-powerful King, and swearing by the\nfire and the light and the shade and the heat and the revolving\nsphere. My father had no child, till I was vouchsafed to him in\nhis old age, and he reared me and I grew up and flourished. Now,\nas my good star would have it, there was with us an old woman\nstricken in years, who was at heart a Muslim, believing in God\nand His prophet, but conforming outwardly to the religion of my\npeople. My father had confidence in her, supposing her to be of\nhis own belief, and showed her exceeding favour, for that he knew\nher to be trusty and virtuous; so when I grew to a fitting age,\nhe committed me to her charge, saying, 'Take him and do thy best\nto give him a good education and teach him the things of our\nfaith.' So she took me and taught me the tenets of Islam and the\nordinances of ablution and prayer and made me learn the Koran by\nheart, bidding me worship none but God the Most High and charging\nme to keep my faith secret from my father, lest he should kill\nme. So I hid it from him, and I abode thus till, in a little\nwhile, the old woman died and the people of the city redoubled in\ntheir impiety and frowardness and in the error of their ways. One\nday, they heard a voice from on high, proclaiming aloud, with a\nnoise like the resounding thunder, so that all heard it far and\nnear, and saying, 'O people of the city, turn from your worship\nof the fire and serve God the Compassionate King!' At this, fear\nfell on the people of the city and they crowded to my father and\nsaid to him; 'What is this awful voice that we have heard and\nthat has confounded us with the excess of its terror?' But\nhe said, 'Let not a voice fright you nor turn you from your\nfaith.' Their hearts inclined to his word and they ceased not to\nworship the fire, but redoubled in their frowardness, till the\nanniversary of the day on which they had heard the supernatural\nvoice. When they heard it anew, and so again a third time at the\nend of the second year. Still they persisted in their evil ways,\ntill one day, at break of dawn, judgment descended on them and\nwrath from heaven, and they were all turned into black stones,\nthey and their beasts and cattle; and none was spared, save\nmyself. From that day to this, I have remained as thou seest me,\noccupying myself with prayer and fasting and reading the Koran\naloud; and indeed I am grown weary of solitude, having none to\nbear me company.\" Then said I to him (and indeed he had won my\nheart), \"O youth, wilt thou go with me to the city of Baghdad and\nforegather with men of learning and theologians and grow in\nwisdom and understanding and knowledge of the Law? If so, I will\nbe thy handmaid, albeit I am head of my family and mistress over\nmen and slaves and servants. I have here a ship laden with\nmerchandise; and indeed it was providence drove us to this city,\nthat I might come to the knowledge of these things, for it was\nfated that we should meet.\" And I ceased not to speak him fair\nand persuade him, till he consented to go with me, and I passed\nthe night at his feet, beside myself for joy. When it was day, we\nrepaired to the treasuries and took thence what was little of\nweight and great of value; then went down into the town, where we\nmet the slaves and the captain seeking for me. When they saw me,\nthey rejoiced and I told them all I had seen and related to them\nthe story of the young man and of the curse that had fallen on\nthe people of the city. At this they wondered: but when my\nsisters saw me with the prince, they envied me on his account and\nwere enraged and plotted mischief against me in their hearts.\nThen we took ship again, beside ourselves for joy in the booty we\nhad gotten, though the most of my joy was in the prince, and\nwaited till the wind blew fair for us, when we set sail and\ndeparted. As we sat talking, my sisters said to me, \"O sister,\nwhat wilt thou do with this handsome young man?\" \"I purpose to\nmake him my husband,\" answered I; and I turned to the prince and\nsaid, \"O my lord, I have that to propose to thee, in which I will\nnot have thee cross me: and it is that, when we reach Baghdad, I\nwill give myself to thee as a handmaid in the way of marriage,\nand thou shalt be my husband and I thy wife.\" Quoth he, \"I hear\nand obey; thou art my lady and my mistress, and whatever thou\ndost, I will not cross thee.\" Then I turned to my sisters and\nsaid to them, \"This young man suffices me; and those who have\ngotten aught, it is theirs.\" \"Thou sayest well,\" replied they;\nbut in their hearts they purposed me evil. We sailed on with a\nfair wind, till we left the sea of peril and came into safe\nwaters, and in a few days, we came in sight of the walls of\nBassora, even as night overtook us. My sisters waited till the\nprince and I were asleep, when they took us up, bed and all, and\nthrew us into the sea. The prince, who could not swim, was\ndrowned and God wrote him of the company of the martyrs. As for\nme, would I had been drowned with him! But God decreed that I\nshould be of the saved; so He threw in my way a piece of wood and\nI got astride of it, and the waters tossed me about till they\ncast me up on an island. I landed and walked about the island the\nrest of the night, and when the day broke, I saw a footway,\nleading to the mainland. By this time, the sun had risen; so I\ndried my clothes in its rays and ate of the fruits of the island\nand drank of its waters. Then I set out and fared on till I\nreached the mainland and found myself but two hours' distant from\nthe city. So I sat down to rest and presently I saw a great\nserpent, the bigness of a palm-tree, come fleeing towards me,\nwith all her might, whilst her tongue for weariness hung from her\nmouth a span's length and swept the dust as she went. She was\npursued by a dragon, as long and thin as a spear, which presently\novertook her and seized her by the tail whereat the tears\nstreamed from her eyes and she wriggled from side to side. I took\npity on her and catching up a stone, threw it at the dragon's\nhead and killed him on the spot. Then the serpent spread a pair\nof wings and flew away out of sight, leaving me wondering. Now I\nwas tired and drowsiness overcoming me, I slept where I was for\nawhile. When I awoke, I found a damsel sitting at my feet,\nrubbing them, and with her, two black bitches, and I was ashamed\nbefore her; so I sat up and said to her, \"O my sister, who art\nthou?\" \"How quickly thou hast forgotten me!\" answered she. \"I am\nthe serpent, whom thou didst deliver from my enemy by killing\nhim, for I am a Jinniyeh[FN#54] and the dragon was a genie; and I\nwas only saved from him by thy kindness. As soon as thou hadst\ndone me this service, I flew on the wind to your ship and\ntransported all that was therein to thy house. Then I sank the\nvessel and changed thy sisters into two black bitches, for I know\nall that has passed between thee and them: but as for the young\nman, he is drowned.\" So saying, she flew up with me and the two\nbitches and presently set us down on the roof of my house, where\nI found all the goods that were in my ship, nor was aught\nmissing. Then she said to me, \"By that which is written on the\nseal of our lord Solomon (on whom be peace!) except thou give\neach of these bitches three hundred lashes every day, I will come\nand make thee like unto them.\" \"I hear and obey,\" answered I; and\nsince then I have never failed to beat them thus, O Commander of\nthe Faithful, pitying them the while; and they know it is no\nfault of mine that they are beaten and accept my excuse. And this\nis my story.' The Khalif marvelled at her story and said to the\nportress, 'And thou, how camest thou by the weals on thy body?'\n'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered she:\n\n\n\n\n                     Story of the Portress.\n\n\n\n'My father died and left me great wealth, and soon after his\ndeath I married one of the richest men of Baghdad. At the end of\na year he too died and I inherited from him fourscore thousand\ndinars, being my lawful share of his property; so that I became\npassing rich and the report of my wealth spread abroad, for I got\nme half a score suits of clothes, each worth a thousand dinars.\nOne day, as I was sitting alone, there came in to me an old woman\nwith sunken cheeks and worn eyebrows, bleared eyes and broken\nteeth, blotched face and bald head, grizzled hair and bent and\nmangy body, running nose and sallow complexion, even as says the\npoet of the like of her:\n\nA right pernicious hag! Unshriven be her sins, Nor let her mercy\n     find what time she comes to die!\nSo full of wile she is, that with a single thread Of spider's\n     silk she'd curb a thousand mules that shy.\n\nShe saluted me and kissing the ground before me, said, \"I have an\norphan daughter whose wedding and unveiling[FN#55] I celebrate\nto-night. We are strangers in the city and know none of its\ninhabitants, and verily our hearts are broken so do thou earn\nthrough us a recompense and reward in the world to come by being\npresent at her unveiling. When the ladies of the city hear that\nthou art to be present, they also will attend, and so wilt thou\nbring healing to her spirit, for now she is broken-hearted and\nhas none to look to but God the Most High.\" Then she wept and\nkissed my feet, repeating the following verses:\n\nThy presence honoureth us, and we Confess thy magnanimity:\nIf thou forsake us, there is none Can stand to us in stead of\n     thee.\n\nI was moved to pity for her and said, \"I hear and obey; and God\nwilling, I will do more than this for her, for she shall not be\nunveiled but in my clothes and ornaments and jewellery.\" At this\nthe old woman rejoiced and fell at my feet and kissed them,\nsaying, \"God requite thee with good and gladden thy heart as thou\nhast gladdened mine! But, O my lady, do not trouble thyself now,\nbut be ready against the evening, when I will come and fetch\nthee.\" So saying, she kissed my hand and went away, whilst I\nattired myself and made my preparations. At the appointed time,\nthe old woman returned, smiling, and kissed my hand, saying,\n\"O my mistress, the most part of the ladies of the city are\nassembled; and I told them that thou hadst promised to be\npresent, whereat they rejoiced and they are now awaiting thee and\nare looking eagerly for thy coming.\" So I veiled myself and taking\nmy serving-maids with me, followed the old woman, till we came to\na street swept and watered, through which blew a pleasant breeze.\nHere she stopped at a handsome portico vaulted with marble and\nleading to a palace that rose from the ground and took hold upon\nthe clouds. The gateway was hung with a black curtain and lighted\nby a lamp of gold curiously wrought; and on the door were written\nthe following verses:\n\nI am a dwelling, builded for delight; My time is still for\n     joyance day and night.\nRight in my midst a springing fountain wells, Whose waters banish\n     anguish and despite,\nWhose marge with rose, narcissus, camomile, Anemone and myrtle,\n     is bedight.\n\nThe old woman knocked at the gate, which opened; and we entered a\ncarpeted vestibule hung with lighted lamps and candles and\nadorned with pendants of precious stones and minerals. Through\nthis we passed into a saloon, whose like is not to be found in\nthe world, hung and carpeted with silken stuffs and lighted by\nhanging lamps and wax candles in rows. At the upper end stood a\ncouch of juniper-wood, set with pearls and jewels and canopied\nwith curtains of satin, looped up with pearls. Hardly had I taken\nnote of all this, when there came out from the alcove a young\nlady more perfect than the moon at its full, with a forehead\nbrilliant as the morning, when it shines forth, even as says the\npoet:\n\nUpon the imperial necks she walks, a loveling bright, For\n     bride-chambers of kings and emperors bedight.\nThe blossom of her cheek is red as dragon's blood, And all her\n     face is flowered with roses red and white.\nSlender and sleepy-eyed and languorous of gait, All manner\n     loveliness is in her sweetest sight.\nThe locks upon her brow are like a troubled night, From out of\n     which there shines a morning of delight.\n\nShe came down from the dais and said to me, \"Welcome, a thousand\ntimes welcome to the dear and illustrious sister!\" and she\nrecited the following verses:\n\nIf the house knew who visits it, it would indeed rejoice And\n     stoop to kiss the happy place whereon her feet have stood;\nAnd in the voice with which the case, though mute, yet speaks,\n     exclaim, \"Welcome and many a welcome to the generous and\n     good!\"\n\nThen she sat down and said to me, \"O my sister, I have a brother,\nwho is handsomer than I; and he saw thee at certain festivals and\nassemblies and fell passionately in love with thee, for that thou\nart possessed of beauty and grace beyond thy share. He heard that\nthou wast thine own mistress, even as he also is the head of his\nfamily, and wished to make thine acquaintance; wherefore he used\nthis device to bring thee in company with me; for he desires to\nmarry thee according to the law of God and His prophet, and there\nis no shame in what is lawful.\" When I heard what she said, I\nbethought me that I was fairly entrapped and answered, \"I hear\nand obey.\" At this she was glad and clapped her hands, whereupon\na door opened and out came the handsomest of young men, elegantly\ndressed and perfect in beauty and symmetry and winning grace,\nwith eyebrows like a bended bow and eyes that ravished hearts\nwith lawful enchantments, even as says a poet, describing the\nlike of him:\n\nHis face is like unto the new moon's face With signs[FN#56], like\n     pearls, of fortune and of grace.\n\nAnd God bless him who said:\n\nHe hath indeed been blest with beauty and with grace, And blest\n     be He who shaped and fashioned forth his face!\nAll rarest charms that be unite to make him fair, His witching\n     loveliness distracts the human race.\nBeauty itself hath set these words upon his brow, \"Except this\n     youth there's none that's fair in any place.\"\n\nWhen I looked at him, my heart inclined to him and I loved him;\nand he sat down by me and talked with me awhile. Presently the\nyoung lady clapped her hands a second time, and behold, a side\ndoor opened and there came out a Cadi and four witnesses, who\nsaluted and sitting down, drew up the contract of marriage\nbetween me and the young man and retired. Then he turned to me\nand said, \"May our night be blessed! O my mistress, I have a\ncondition to lay on thee.\" Quoth I, \"O my lord, what is it?\"\nWhereupon he rose and fetching a copy of the Koran, said to me,\n\"Swear to me that thou wilt never look upon another man than\nmyself, nor incline to him.\" I did as he wished and he rejoiced\nwith an exceeding joy and embraced me and my whole heart was\ntaken with love of him. Presently they set food before us and we\nate and drank, till we were satisfied and night closed in upon\nus. Then he took me and went to bed with me and ceased not to\nkiss and embrace me till the morning. I lived with him in all\ndelight and happiness for a month, at the end of which time I\nasked his leave to go to the bazaar to buy certain stuffs that I\nwanted, and he gave me leave. So I veiled myself and taking with\nme the old woman and a serving-maid, went to the bazaar, where I\nsat down in the shop of a young merchant, whom the old woman knew\nand had recommended to me, saying, \"The father of this young man\ndied, when he was a boy, and left him great wealth: he has great\nstore of goods, and thou wilt find what thou seekest with him,\nfor none in the bazaar has finer stuffs than he.\" So she said to\nhim, \"Show this lady thy finest stuffs.\" And he answered, \"I hear\nand obey.\" Then she began to sound his praises; but I said, \"I\nhave no concern with thy praises of him; all I want is to buy\nwhat I need of him and return home.\" So he brought me what I\nsought, and I offered him the price, but he refused to take it,\nsaying, \"It is a guest-gift to thee on the occasion of thy visit\nto me this day.\" Then I said to the old woman, \"If he will not\ntake the money, give him back the stuff.\" \"By Allah!\" said he, \"I\nwill take nothing from thee! I make thee a present of it all, in\nreturn for one kiss; for that is more precious to me than all\nthat is in my shop.\" Quoth the old woman, \"What will a kiss\nprofit thee?\" Then she said to me, \"O my daughter, thou hearest\nwhat this young man says. What harm will it do thee, if he take\nfrom thee a kiss and thou get the stuffs for nothing?\" \"Dost thou\nnot know,\" answered I, \"that I am bound by an oath?\" But she\nsaid, \"Hold thy tongue and let him kiss thee, and thou shalt keep\nthy money and no harm shall betide thee.\" And she ceased not to\npersuade me till I put my head into the noose and consented. So I\nveiled my eyes and held up the edge of my veil between me and the\nstreet, that the passers-by might not see me; and he put his\nmouth to my cheek under the veil. But, instead of kissing me, he\nbit me so hard that he tore the flesh of my cheek, and I swooned\naway. The old woman took me in her arms and when I came to\nmyself, I found the shop shut up and her lamenting over me and\nsaying, \"Thank God it was no worse!\" Then she said to me, \"Come,\ntake courage and let us go home, lest the thing get wind and thou\nbe disgraced. When thou returnest, do thou feign sickness and lie\ndown and cover thyself up, and I will bring thee a remedy that\nwill soon heal the wound.\" So, after awhile, I arose, full of\nfear and anxiety, and went little by little, till I came to the\nhouse, where I lay down and gave out that I was ill. When it was\nnight, my husband came in to me and said, \"O my lady, what has\nbefallen thee in this excursion?\" Quoth I, \"I am not well: I have\na pain in my head.\" Then he lighted a candle and drew near and\nlooked at me and said, \"What is that wound on thy cheek, in the\nsoft part?\" Said I, \"When I went out to-day to buy stuffs, with\nthy leave, a camel laden with firewood jostled me and the end of\none of the pieces of wood tore my veil and wounded my cheek, as\nthou seest; for indeed the ways are strait in this city.\"\n\"To-morrow,\" rejoined he, \"I will go to the governor and speak to\nhim, that he may hang every firewood-seller in the city.\" \"God on\nthee,\" cried I, \"do not burden thy conscience with such a sin\nagainst any one! The truth is that I was riding on an ass, and it\nstumbled and threw me down, and my cheek fell on a piece of\nglass, which wounded it.\" \"Then,\" said he, \"to morrow I will go\nto Jaafer the Barmecide and tell him the case, and he will kill\nevery ass in the city.\" \"Wilt thou ruin all the folk on my\naccount,\" said I, \"when this that befell me was decreed of God?\"\n\"There is no help for it,\" answered he, and springing to his\nfeet, plied me with questions and pressed me, till I was\nfrightened and stammered in my speech, so that he guessed how the\ncase stood and exclaimed, \"Thou hast been false to thine oath!\"\nThen he gave a great cry, whereupon a door opened and in came\nseven black slaves, whom he commanded to drag me from my bed and\nthrow me down in the middle of the room. Moreover, he made one\ntake me by the shoulders and sit upon my head and another sit on\nmy knees and hold my feet and giving a third a naked sword, said\nto him, \"Strike her, O Saad, and cut her in twain and let each\ntake half and throw it into the Tigris that the fish may eat\nher, for this is the reward of her who breaks her oath and is\nunfaithful to her love.\" And he redoubled in wrath and repeated\nthe following verses:\n\nIf any other share with me in her whom I adore, I'll root out\n     passion from my heart, though longing me destroy;\nAnd I will say unto my soul, \"Death is the better part;\" For love\n     is naught that men with me in common do enjoy.\n\nThen he said to the slave, \"Smite her, O Saad!\" Whereupon the\nlatter bent down to me and said, \"O my lady, repeat the\nprofession of the faith and tell us if there be aught thou\nwouldst have done, for thy last hour is come.\" \"O good slave,\"\nsaid I, \"grant me a little respite, that I may give thee my last\ninjunctions.\" Then I raised my head and considered my case and\nhow I had fallen from high estate into abjection; wherefore the\ntears streamed from my eyes and I wept passing sore. He looked at\nme with angry eyes and repeated the following\n\nSay unto her who wronged us, on whom our kisses tire, Her that\n     hath chosen another for darling of desire,\nLo, we will spurn thee from us, before thou cast us off! That\n     which is past between us suffices to our ire.\n\nWhen I heard this, I wept and looked at him and repeated the\nfollowing verses:\n\nYou doom my banishment from love and all unmoved remain; You rob\n     my wounded lids of rest and sleep whilst I complain.\nYou make mine eyes familiar with watching and unrest; Yet can my\n     heart forget you not, nor eyes from tears refrain.\nYou swore to me that you would keep, for aye, your plighted\n     faith; But when my heart was yours, you broke the oath that\n     you had ta'en.\nAre you secure against the shifts of time and evil chance, That\n     you've no mercy on my love nor aught of pity deign?\nIf I must die, I prithee, write, 'fore God, upon my tomb, \"A\n     slave of passion lieth here, who died of love in vain.\"\nIt may be one shall pass that way, who knows the pangs of love,\n     And looking on a lover's grave, take pity on her pain.\n\nThen I wept; and when he heard what I said and saw my tears, his\nanger redoubled, and he repeated the following verses:\n\nI left the darling of my heart, not from satiety; But she had\n     sinned a sin that called aloud for punishment.\nShe would have ta'en another in to share with me her love, But\n     the religion of my heart to share will not consent[FN#57].\n\nThen I wept again and implored him, saying to myself, \"I will\nwork on him with words; so haply he may spare my life, though he\ntake all I have.\" So I complained to him of my sufferings and\nrepeated the following verses:\n\nIf thou indeed wert just to me, thou wouldst not take my life.\n     Alas! against the law of Death no arbiter is there!\nThou layst upon my back the load of passion and desire, When I\n     for weakness scarce can lift the very gown I wear!\nThat so my soul should waste away, small wonder is to me; But oh!\n     I wonder how my flesh can thine estrangement bear.\n\nThen I wept again, and he looked at me and reviled and reproached\nme, repeating the following verses:\n\nThou hast forgotten my love in the arms of another than me; Thou\n     shew'st me estrangement, though I was never unfaithful to\n     thee.\nSo I will cast thee away, since thou wast the first to forsake,\n     And by thy pattern content to live without thee will I be.\nAnd (like thyself) in the arms of another thy charms I'll forget;\n     'Tis thou that hast sundered our loves: thou canst not\n     reproach it to me.\n\nThen he called to the slave with the sword, saying \"Cut her in\nhalf and rid us of her, for we have no profit of her.\" So the\nslave drew near to me and I gave myself up for lost and committed\nmy affair to God the Most High; but, at this moment, in came the\nold woman and threw herself at my husband's feet and kissed them,\nsaying, \"O my son, for the sake of my fosterage of thee and my\nservice to thee, spare this young lady, for indeed she has done\nnothing deserving of death. Thou art a very young man, and I fear\nlest her death be laid to thy count, for it is said, 'He who\nkills shall be killed.' As for this wretched woman, put her away\nfrom thee and from thy thought and heart.\" And she ceased not to\nweep and implore him, till he relented and said, \"I pardon her,\nbut I will set a mark on her that shall stay with her all her\nlife.\" Then he made the slaves strip off my clothes and hold me\ndown, and taking a rod of quince-wood beat me with it on the back\nand sides till I lost my senses for excess of pain and despaired\nof life. Then he commanded slaves, as soon as it was dark, to\ncarry me back to the house in which I had lived before my\nmarriage with him, taking the old woman with them to guide them.\nThey did as he bade them and cast me down in my house and went\naway. I did not recover from my swoon till the morning, when I\napplied myself to the dressing of my wounds, and medicined myself\nand kept my bed for four months, at the end of which time my body\nhealed and I was restored to health; but my sides still bore the\nmarks of the blows, as thou hast seen. As soon as I could walk, I\nwent to the house where all this had happened, but found the\nwhole street pulled down and nothing but heaps of rubbish where\nthe house had stood, nor could I learn how this had come about.\nThen I betook myself to this my half-sister and found with her\nthese two black bitches. I saluted her and told her what had\nbefallen me; and she said, \"O my sister, who is safe from the\nvicissitudes of fortune? Praised be God, who hath brought thee\noff with thy life!\" And she repeated the following verse:\n\nFortune indeed was ever thus: endure it patiently, Whether thou\n     suffer loss of wealth or friends depart from thee.\n\nThen she told me her own story, and we abode together, she and I,\nnever mentioning the name of marriage. After awhile there came to\nlive with us this our other sister the cateress, who goes out\nevery day and buys what we require for the day and night. We led\nthis life till yesterday, when our sister went out as usual and\nfell in with the porter. Presently we were joined by these three\nCalenders and later on by three respectable merchants from\nTiberias, all of whom we admitted to our company on certain\nconditions, which they infringed. But we forgave them their\nbreach of faith, on condition that they should give us an account\nof themselves; so they told us their stories and went away; and\nwe heard nothing more till this morning, when we were summoned to\nappear before thee; and this is our story.' The Khalif wondered\nat her story, and ordered it and those of her sister and the\nCalenders to be recorded in the archives of his reign and laid up\nin the royal treasury. Then he said to the eldest lady, 'Knowst\nthou where to find the Afriteh who enchanted thy sisters?' 'O\nCommander of the Faithful,' answered she, 'she gave me some of\nher hair, saying, \"When thou wouldst see me, burn one or two of\nthese hairs, and I will be with thee presently, though I be\nbehind the mountain Caf.\"' Quoth the Khalif, 'Bring me the hair.'\nSo she fetched it and he threw the whole lock into the fire,\nwhereupon the palace shook and they heard a rumbling sound of\nthunder, and presently the Jinniyeh appeared and saluted the\nKhalif, saying, 'Peace be upon thee, O vicar of God!' 'And on\nthee be peace,' answered he, 'and the mercy of God and His\nblessing!' Quoth she, 'Know that this lady did me a service for\nwhich I cannot enough requite her, in that she saved me from\ndeath and slew my enemy. Now I had seen how her sisters dealt\nwith her and felt bound to avenge her on them. At first, I was\nminded to kill them, but I feared it would be grievous to her, so\nI turned them into bitches; and now, O Commander of the Faithful,\nif thou wouldst have me release them, I will do so, out of\nrespect to thee and to her, for I am of the true believers.'\n'Release them,' said the Khalif; 'and after we will proceed to\nlook into the affair of the beaten lady, and if her account prove\ntrue, we will avenge her on him who wronged her.' 'O Commander of\nthe Faithful,' replied she, 'I will release them forthwith and\nbring thee to the knowledge of him who maltreated this lady and\ntook her property; and he is the nearest of all men to thee.' So\nsaying, she took a cup of water and muttered over it and spoke\nwords that might not be understood. Then she threw some of the\nwater in the faces of the bitches, saying, 'Return to your former\nhuman shape;' whereupon they were restored to their original\nform, and the Afriteh said to the Khalif, 'O Commander of the\nFaithful, he who beat this lady is thy son El Amin, brother of El\nMamoun[FN#58], who heard of her beauty and grace and laid a trap\nfor her and married her; and indeed he is not to blame for\nbeating her, for he laid a condition on her and took of her a\nsolemn oath that she would not do a certain thing; but she was\nfalse to her vow; and he was minded to kill her, but was\nrestrained by the fear of God the Most High and contented himself\nwith beating her, as thou hast seen, and sending her back to her\nown place.' When the Khalif heard this, he wondered greatly and\nsaid, 'Glory be to God the Most High, the Supreme, who hath\nvouchsafed me the delivery of these two damsels from enchantment\nand torment and hath granted me to know the secret of this lady's\nhistory! By Allah, I will do a thing that shall be chronicled\nafter me!' Then he summoned his son El Amin and questioned him of\nthe story of the portress, and he told him the truth; whereupon\nthe Khalif sent for Cadis and witnesses and married the eldest\nlady and her two sisters-german to the three Calenders, whom he\nmade his chamberlains, appointing them stipends and all that they\nneeded and lodging them in his palace at Baghdad. Moreover, he\nreturned the beaten girl to her husband, his son El Amin,\nrenewing the marriage contract between them, and gave her great\nwealth and bade rebuild the house more handsomely than before. As\nfor himself, he took to wife the cateress and lay with her that\nnight; and on the morrow he assigned her a separate lodging in\nhis seraglio, with a fixed allowance and serving-maids to wait on\nher; and the people marvelled at his equity and magnificence and\ngenerosity.\n\nWhen Shehrzad had made an end of her story, Dunyazad said to her,\n\"By Allah, this is indeed a pleasant and delightful story, never\nwas heard its like! But now, O my sister, tell us another story,\nto beguile the rest of the waking hours of our night.\" \"With all\nmy heart,\" answered Shehrzad, \"if the King give me leave.\" And he\nsaid, \"Tell thy story, and that quickly.\" Then said she, \"They\nsay, O King of the age and lord of the time and the day, that\n\n\n\n\n                       THE THREE APPLES.\n\n\n\nThe Khalif Haroun er Reshid summoned his Vizier Jaafer one night\nand said to him, 'I have a mind to go down into the city and\nquestion the common people of the conduct of the officers charged\nwith its government; and those of whom they complain, we will\ndepose, and those whom they commend, we will advance.' Quoth\nJaafer, 'I hear and obey.' So the Khalif and Jaafer and Mesrour\nwent down into the town and walked about the streets and markets\ntill, as they were passing through a certain alley, they came\nupon an old man walking along at a leisurely pace, with a\nfishing-net and a basket on his head and a staff in his hand, and\nheard him repeat the following verses:\n\nThey tell me I shine, by my wisdom and wit, Midst the rest of my\n     kind, as the moon in the night.\n\"A truce to your idle discourses!\" I cry, \"What's knowledge,\n     indeed, unattended by might?\"\nIf you offered me, knowledge and wisdom and all, with my inkhorn\n     and papers, in pawn for a mite,\nTo buy one day's victual, the pledge they'd reject And cast, like\n     an unread petition, from sight.\nSorry, indeed, is the case of the poor, And his life, what a load\n     of chagrin and despite!\nIn summer, he's pinched for a living and cowers O'er the fire-pot\n     in winter, for warmth and for light.\nThe curs of the street dog his heels, as he goes, And the\n     scurviest rascal may rail at the wight.\nIf he lift up his voice to complain of his case, He finds not a\n     soul who will pity his plight.\nSince such is the life and the lot of the poor, It were better he\n     lay in the graveyard forthright!\n\nWhen the Khalif heard this, he said to Jaafer, 'See yonder poor\nman and note his verses, for they show his necessity.' Then he\nwent up to him and said, 'O old man, what is thy trade?' 'O my\nlord,' replied he, 'I am a fisherman, with a family to maintain;\nand I have been out since mid-day, but God has not vouchsafed me\naught wherewith to feed them, and indeed I abhor myself and wish\nfor death.' Quoth the Khalif, 'Wilt thou go back with me to the\nTigris and cast thy net yet once more on my account, and I will\nbuy of thee whatever comes up for a hundred dinars?' 'On my head\nbe it!' answered the fisherman joyfully. 'I will go back with\nyou.' So he returned with them to the river-bank and cast his net\nand waited awhile, then drew it up and found in it a chest,\nlocked and heavy. The Khalif lifted it and found it weighty; so\nhe gave the fisherman a hundred dinars, and he went his way;\nwhilst Mesrour carried the chest to the palace, where he set it\ndown before the Khalif and lighted the candles. Then Jaafer and\nMesrour broke open the chest and found in it a basket of\npalm-leaves, sewn together with red worsted. This they cut open\nand found within a bundle wrapped in a piece of carpet. Under the\ncarpet was a woman's veil and in this a young lady, as she were\nan ingot of silver, slain and cut in pieces. When the Khalif saw\nthis, he was sore enraged and afflicted; the tears ran down his\ncheeks and he turned to Jaafer and said, \"O dog of a Vizier,\nshall folk be murdered in my capital city and thrown into the\nriver and their death laid to my account on the Day of Judgment?\nI must avenge this woman on her murderer and put him to death\nwithout mercy! And as surely as I am descended from the sons of\nAbbas, an thou bring me not him who slew her, that I may do her\njustice on him, I will hang thee and forty of thy kinsmen at the\ngate of my palace!' Quoth Jaafer, 'Grant me three days' respite.'\nAnd the Khalif said, 'I grant thee this.' So Jaafer went out from\nbefore him and returned to his house, full of sorrow and saying\nto himself, 'How shall I find him who killed the damsel, that I\nmay bring him before the Khalif? If I bring other than the right\nman, it will be laid to my charge by God. Indeed, I know not what\nto do.' Then he kept his house three days, and on the fourth day,\nthe Khalif sent one of his chamberlains for him and said to him,\n'Where is the murderer of the damsel?' 'O Commander of the\nFaithful,' replied the Vizier, 'am I inspector of murdered folk,\nthat I should know who killed her?' The Khalif was enraged at his\nanswer and commanded to hang him before his palace-gate and that\nproclamation should be made in the streets of Baghdad, 'Whoso\nhath a mind to witness the hanging of Jaafer the Barmecide,\nVizier of the Khalif, and of forty of his kin, before the gate of\nthe Khalif's palace, let him come out to see!' So the people came\nout from all quarters to witness the execution of Jaafer and his\nkinsmen, not knowing the reason. Then they set up the gallows and\nmade Jaafer and the others stand underneath in readiness; but\nwhilst they awaited the Khalif's signal for the execution and the\npeople wept for Jaafer and his kinsmen, behold, a handsome and\nwell-dressed young man, with shining face and bright black eyes,\nflower-white forehead, downy whiskers and rosy cheeks and a mole\nlike a grain of ambergris, pressed through the crowd, till he\nstood before Jaafer and said to him, 'I come to deliver thee from\nthis strait, O chief of the Amirs and refuge of the poor! I am he\nwho killed the woman ye found in the chest; so hang me for her\nand do her justice on me!' When Jaafer heard this, he rejoiced at\nhis own deliverance, but grieved for the young man; and whilst\nthey were yet talking, behold, a man far advanced in years made\nhis way when he saluted them and said, 'O Vizier and noble lord,\ncredit not what this young man says. None killed the damsel but\nI; so do thou avenge her on me, or I do accuse thee before God\nthe Most High.' Then said the youth, 'O Vizier, this is a doting\nold man, who knows not what he says: it was I killed her, so do\nthou avenge her on me.' 'O my son,' said the old man, 'thou art\nyoung and desirest the things of the world, and I am old and\nweary of the world. I will ransom thee and the Vizier and his\nkinsmen with my life. None killed the damsel but I; so God on\nthee, make haste to hang me, or there is no living for me after\nher!' The Vizier marvelled at all this and taking the youth and\nthe old man, carried them before the Khalif and said to him, 'O\nCommander of the Faithful, I bring thee the murderer of the\ndamsel.' 'Where is he?' asked the Khalif, and Jaafer answered,\n'This youth says he killed her, but this old man gives him the\nlie and affirms that he himself killed her: and behold, they are\nboth in thy hands.' The Khalif looked at them and said, 'Which of\nyou killed the damsel?' The youth replied, 'It was I.' And the\nold man, 'Indeed, none killed her but myself.' Then the Khalif\nsaid to Jaafer, 'Take them and hang them both.' But the Vizier\nreplied, 'If one of them be the murderer, to hang the other were\nunjust.' 'By Him who vaulted the heavens and spread out the earth\nlike a carpet,' cried the youth, 'it was I killed her!' And he\nset forth the circumstance of her death and how they had found\nher body, so that the Khalif was certified that he was the\nmurderer, whereat he wondered and said to him, 'Why didst thou\nslay the damsel wrongfully and what made thee come and accuse\nthyself thus and confess thy crime without being beaten?' 'Know,\nO Commander of the Faithful,' answered the young man, 'that this\ndamsel was my wife and the daughter of this old man, who is my\nfather's brother, and she was a virgin when I married her. God\nblessed me with three male children by her, and she loved me and\nserved me, and I also loved her with an exceeding love and saw no\nevil in her. We lived happily together till the beginning of this\nmonth, when she fell grievously ill. I fetched the doctors to her\nand she recovered slowly; and I would have had her take a bath;\nbut she said, \"There is something I long for, before I go to the\nbath.\" \"What is it?\" asked I, and she replied, \"I have a longing\nfor an apple, that I may smell it and bite a piece of it.\" So I\nwent out into the city at once and sought for apples, but could\nfind none, though, had they been a dinar apiece, I would have\nbought them. I was vexed at this and went home and said to my\nwife, \"By Allah, my cousin, I can find none.\" She was distressed,\nbeing yet weak, and her weakness increased greatly on her that\nnight, and I passed the night full of anxiety. As soon as it was\nday, I went out again and made the round of the gardens, but\ncould find no apples anywhere. At last I met an old gardener, of\nwhom I enquired for them, and he said to me, \"O my son, this\nfruit is rare with us and is not now to be found but in the\ngarden of the Commander of the Faithful at Bassora, where the\ngardener keeps them for the Khalif's table.' I returned home,\ntroubled at my ill-success, and my love and concern for her moved\nme to undertake the journey to Bassora. So I set out and\ntravelled thither and bought three apples of the gardener there\nfor three dinars, with which I returned to Baghdad, after having\nbeen absent fifteen days and nights, going and coming. I went in\nto my wife and gave her the apples; but she took no pleasure in\nthem and let them lie by her side; for weakness and fever had\nincreased on her and did not leave her for ten days, at the end\nof which time she began to mend. So I left the house and went to\nmy shop, where I sat buying and selling. About mid-day a great\nugly black slave came into the bazaar, having in his hand one of\nthe three apples, with which he was playing; so I called to him\nand said, \"Prithee, good slave, tell me whence thou hadst that\napple, that I may get the fellow to it.\" He laughed and answered,\n\"I had it of my mistress; for I had been absent and on my return\nI found her lying ill, with three apples by her side: and she\ntold me that the cuckold her husband had made a journey for them\nto Bassora, where he had bought them for three dinars. So I ate\nand drank with her and took this one from her.\" When I heard\nthis, the world grew black in my eyes, and I rose and shut my\nshop and went home, beside myself for excess of rage. I looked\nfor the apples and finding but two of them, said to my wife,\n\"Where is the third apple?\" Quoth she, \"I know not what is come\nof it.\" This convinced me of the truth of the slave's story, so I\ntook a knife and coming behind her, without word said, got up on\nher breast and cut her throat; after which I hewed her in pieces\nand wrapping her in her veil and a piece of carpet, sewed the\nwhole up hurriedly in the basket. Then I put the basket in the\nchest and locking it up, set it on my mule and threw it into the\nTigris with my own hands. So, God on thee, O Commander of the\nFaithful, make haste to hang me, for I fear lest she sue for\nvengeance on me at the Day of Resurrection! For when I had thrown\nher into the river, unknown of any, I returned home and found my\neldest boy weeping, though he knew not what I had done with his\nmother; and I said to him \"Why dost thou weep, my son?\" He\nreplied, \"I took one of my mother's apples and went down with it\ninto the street to play with my brothers, when lo, a tall black\nslave snatched it from my hand, saying, 'Whence hadst thou this?'\nQuoth I, 'My father journeyed to Bassora for it and brought it to\nmy mother, who is ill, with two other apples for which he paid\nthree dinars. Give it back to me and do not get me into trouble\nfor it.' He paid no heed to my words and I demanded the apple a\nsecond and a third time; but he beat me and went away with it. I\nwas afraid that my mother would beat me on account of the apple;\nso for fear of her, I went without the city with my brothers and\nabode there until night closed in upon us, and indeed I am in\nfear of her: so by Allah, O my father, say nothing to her of\nthis, or it will add to her illness.\" When I heard what the child\nsaid, I knew that the slave was he who had forged a lie against\nmy wife and was certified that I had killed her wrongfully. So I\nwept sore, and presently, this old man, her father, came in and I\ntold him what had passed; and he sat down by my side and wept and\nwe ceased not weeping half the night. This was five days ago and\nfrom that time to this, we have never ceased to bewail her and\nmourn for her, sorrowing sore for that she was unjustly put to\ndeath. All this came of the lying story of the slave, and this\nwas the manner of my killing her; so I conjure thee, by the\nhonour of thy forefathers, make haste to kill me and do her\njustice on me, for there is no living for me after her.' The\nKhalif wondered at his story and said, 'By Allah, the young man\nis excusable, and I will hang none but the accursed slave!' Then\nhe fumed to Jaafer and said to him, 'Bring me the accursed slave,\nwho was the cause of this calamity, and if thou bring him not in\nthree days, thou shalt suffer in his stead.' And Jaafer went out,\nweeping and saying, 'Verily, I am beset by deaths; the pitcher\ndoes not come off for aye unbroken. I can do nothing in this\nmatter; but He who saved me the first time may save me again. By\nAllah, I will not leave my house during the three days that\nremain to me, and God who is the Truth shall do what He will.' So\nhe kept his house three days, and on the fourth day, he summoned\nCadis and witnesses and made his last dispositions and bade\nfarewell to his children, weeping. Presently in came a messenger\nfrom the Khalif and said to him, 'The Commander of the Faithful\nis beyond measure wroth and sends to seek thee and swears that\nthe day shall not pass without thy being hanged.' When Jaafer\nheard this, he wept and his children and slaves and all that were\nin the house wept with him. Then they brought him his little\ndaughter, that he might bid her farewell. Now he loved her more\nthan all his other children; so he pressed her to his breast and\nkissed her and wept over his separation from her; when lo, he\nfelt something round in her bosom and said to her, 'What's this\nin thy bosom?' 'O my father,' answered she, 'it is an apple with\nthe name of our lord the Khalif written on it. Our slave Rihan\nbrought it to me four days ago and would not let me have it, till\nI gave him two dinars for it.' When Jaafer heard this, he put his\nhand into her bosom and took out the apple and knew it and\nrejoiced, saying, 'O swift Dispeller of trouble[FN#59]!' Then he\nsent for the slave and said to him, 'Harkye Rihan, whence hadst\nthou this apple?' 'By Allah, O my lord,' replied he, 'though\nlying might get me off, yet is it safer to tell the truth[FN#60]!\nI did not steal it from thy palace nor from the palace of His\nHighness nor the garden of the Commander of the Faithful. The\nfact is that some days ago, I was passing along a certain alley\nof this city, when I saw some children playing and this apple in\nthe hand of one of them. So I snatched it from him, and he wept\nand said, \"O youth, this apple is my mother's and she is ill. She\nlonged for apples, and my father journeyed to Bassora and bought\nher three for three dinars, and I took one of them to play with.\"\nBut I paid no heed to what he said and beat him and went off with\nthe apple and sold it to my little mistress for two dinars.' When\nJaafer heard this, he wondered that the death of the damsel and\nall this misery should have been caused by his slave and grieved\nfor the relation of the slave to himself, whilst rejoicing over\nhis own delivery: and he repeated the following verses:\n\nIf through a servant misfortune befall thee, Spare not to save\nthine own life at his cost.\nServants in plenty thou'lt find to replace him, Life for life\nnever, once it is lost.\n\nThen he carried the slave to the Khalif, to whom he related the\nwhole story; and the Khalif wondered greatly and laughed till he\nfell backward and ordered the story to be recorded and published\namong the folk. Then said Jaafer, 'O Commander of the Faithful,\nwonder not at this story, for it is not more marvellous than that\nof Noureddin Ali of Cairo and his son Bedreddin Hassan.' 'What is\nthat?' asked the Khalif; 'and how can it be more marvellous than\nthis story?' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered Jaafer, 'I\nwill not tell it thee except thou pardon my slave.' Quoth the\nKhalif, 'If it be indeed more marvellous than that of the three\napples, I grant thee thy slave's life; but if not, I will kill\nhim.' 'Know, then, O Commander of the Faithful,' said Jaafer,\n'that\n\n\n\n\n               NOUREDDIN ALI OF CAIRO AND HIS SON\n                       BEDREDDIN HASSAN.\n\n\n\nThere was once in the land of Egypt a just and pious King who\nloved the poor and companied with the learned, and he had a\nVizier, a wise and experienced man, well versed in affairs and in\nthe art of government. This Vizier, who was a very old man, had\ntwo sons, as they were two moons, never was seen their like for\nbeauty and grace, the elder called Shemseddin Mohammed and the\nyounger Noureddin Ali; but the younger excelled his brother in\ncomeliness and fair favour, so that folk heard of him in distant\nlands and journeyed to Egypt to get sight of him. After awhile\nthe Vizier died, to the great grief of the Sultan, who sent for\nhis two sons and invested them with robes of honour, saying, \"Let\nnot your hearts be troubled, for you shall stand in your father's\nstead and be joint Viziers of Egypt.\" At this they were glad and\nkissed the earth before him and mourned for their father a whole\nmonth, at the end of which time they entered upon the Vizierate,\nand the government passed into their hands, as it had been in\nthose of their father, each ruling for a week at a time. Whenever\nthe Sultan went on a journey, they took it in turns to accompany\nhim; and the two brothers lived in one house, and there was\nperfect accord between them. It chanced, one night, that the\nSultan purposed setting out on a journey on the morrow and the\nelder, whose turn it was to attend him, was sitting talking with\nhis brother and said to him, \"O my brother, it is my wish that\nwe both marry and go in to our wives on the same night.\" \"O my\nbrother,\" replied Noureddin, \"do as thou wilt; I will conform to\nthee.\" So they agreed upon this and Shemseddin said, \"If it be\nthe will of God that we both marry on the same night, and our\nwives be brought to bed on the same day, and thy wife bear a boy\nand mine a girl, we will marry the children to one another, for\nthey will be cousins.\" \"O my brother,\" asked Noureddin, \"what\ndowry wilt thou require of my son for thy daughter!\" Quoth the\nother, \"I will have of him three thousand dinars and three\ngardens and three farms, for it would not be fitting that he\nbring her a smaller dowry than this.\" When Noureddin heard this,\nhe said, \"What dowry is this thou wouldst impose on my son?\nKnowest thou not that we are brothers and both by God's grace\nViziers and equal in rank? It behoves thee to offer thy daughter\nto my son, without dowry: or if thou must have a dower, it should\nbe something of nominal value, for mere show; for thou knowest\nthe male to be more worthy than the female, and my son is a male,\nand our memory will be preserved by him, not by thy daughter; but\nI see thou wouldst do with me according to the saying, 'If thou\nwouldst drive away a purchaser, ask him a high price,' or as did\none, who, being asked by a friend to do him a favour, replied,\n'In the name of God; I will comply with thy request, but not till\ntomorrow.' Whereupon the other answered him with this verse:\n\n'When one, of whom a favour's asked, postpones it till next day,\n     'Tis, to a man who knows the world, as if he said him nay.'\"\n\nQuoth Shemseddin, \"Verily, thou errest in that thou wouldst make\nthy son more worthy than my daughter, and it is plain that thou\nlackest both judgment and manners. Thou talkest of thy share in\nthe Vizierate, when I only admitted thee to share with me, in\npity for thee, not wishing to mortify thee, and that thou\nmightest help me. But since thou talkest thus, by Allah, I will\nnot marry my daughter to thy son, though thou pay down her weight\nin gold!\" When Noureddin heard this, he was angry and said, \"And\nI, I will never marry my son to thy daughter.\" \"I would not\naccept him as a husband for her,\" answered the other, \"and were I\nnot bound to attend the Sultan on his journey, I would make an\nexample of thee; but when I return, I will let thee see what my\ndignity demands.\" When Noureddin heard this speech from his\nbrother, he was beside himself for rage, but held his peace and\nstifled his vexation; and each passed the night in his own place,\nfull of wrath against the other. As soon as it was day, the\nSultan went out to Ghizeh and made for the Pyramids, accompanied\nby the Vizier Shemseddin, whilst Noureddin arose, sore enraged,\nand prayed the morning-prayer. Then he went to his treasury, and\ntaking a small pair of saddle-bags, filled them with gold. And he\ncalled to mind his brother's words and the contempt with which he\nhad treated him and repeated the following verses:\n\nTravel, for yon shall find new friends in place of those you\n     leave, And labour, for in toil indeed the sweets of life\n     reside.\nNor gain nor honour comes to him who idly stays at home; So leave\n     thy native land behind and journey far and wide.\nOft have I seen a stagnant pool corrupt with standing still; If\n     water run, 'tis sweet, but else grows quickly putrefied.\nIf the full moon were always high and never waned nor set, Men\n     would not strain their watchful eyes for it at every tide.\nExcept the arrow leave the bow, 'twill never hit the mark, Nor\n     will the lion chance on prey, if in the copse he bide.\nThe aloes in its native land a kind of firewood is, And precious\n     metals are but dust whilst in the mine they hide.\nThe one is sent abroad and grows more precious straight than\n     gold; The other's brought to light and finds its value\n     magnified.\n\nThen he bade one of his people saddle him his mule with a padded\nsaddle. Now she was a dapple mule, high-backed, like a dome\nbuilded upon columns; her saddle was of cloth of gold and her\nstirrups of Indian steel, her housings of Ispahan velvet, and she\nwas like a bride on her wedding night. Moreover, he bade lay on\nher back a carpet of silk and strap the saddle-bags on that and\nspread a prayer-rug over the whole. The man did as he bade him\nand Noureddin said to his servants, \"I have a mind to ride out\na-pleasuring towards Kelyoubiyeh, and I shall lie three nights\nabroad; but let none of you follow me, for my heart is heavy.\"\nThen he mounted the mule in haste and set out from Cairo, taking\nwith him a little victual, and made for the open country. About\nmid-day, he reached the town of Belbeys, where he alighted and\nrested himself and the mule. Then he took out food and ate and\nfared on again in the direction of the desert, after having\nbought victual and fodder for the mule in the town. Towards\nnightfall, he came to a town called Saadiyeh, where he alighted\nand took out food and ate, then spread the carpet on the ground\nand laying the saddle bags under his head, slept in the open air,\nfor he was still overcome with anger. As soon as it was day, he\nmounted and rode onward, till he reached the city of Jerusalem\nand thence to Aleppo, where he alighted at one of the khans and\nabode three days, to rest himself and the mule. Then, being still\nintent upon travel, he mounted and setting out again, he knew not\nwhither, journeyed on without ceasing, till he reached the city\nof Bassora, where he alighted at a certain khan and spread out\nhis prayer-carpet, after having taken the saddle-bags off the\nmule's back and given her to the porter that he might walk her\nabout. As chance would have it, the Vizier of Bassora, who was a\nvery old man, was sitting at a window of his palace opposite the\nkhan and saw the porter walking the mule up and down. He remarked\nher costly trappings and took her to be a mule of parade, of such\nas are ridden by kings and viziers. This set him thinking and he\nbecame perplexed and said to one of his servants, \"Bring me\nyonder porter.\" So the servant went and returned with the porter,\nwho kissed the ground before the Vizier; and the latter said to\nhim, \"Who is the owner of that mule, and what manner of man is\nhe?\" \"O my lord,\" replied the porter, \"he is a comely young man\nof the sons of the merchants, grave and dignified of aspect.\"\nWhen the Vizier heard this, he rose at once and mounting his\nhorse, rode to the khan and went in to Noureddin, who, seeing him\nmaking towards himself, rose and went to meet him and saluted\nhim. The Vizier bade him welcome to Bassora and dismounting,\nembraced him and made him sit down by his side and said to him,\n\"O my son, whence comest thou and what dost thou seek?\" \"O my\nlord.\" answered Noureddin, \"I come from the city of Cairo;\" and\ntold him his story from beginning to end, saying, \"I am resolved\nnot to return home, till I have seen all the towns and countries\nof the world.\" When the Vizier heard this, he said to him, \"O my\nson, follow not the promptings of thy soul, lest they bring thee\ninto peril; for indeed the lands are waste and I fear the issues\nof Fortune for thee.\" Then he let load the saddle-bags and the\ncarpets on the mule and carried Noureddin to his own house, where\nhe lodged him in a pleasant place and made much of him, for he\nhad conceived a great affection for him. After awhile, he said to\nhim, \"O my son, I am an old man and have no male child, but God\nhas given me a daughter who is thy match for beauty, and I have\nrefused many suitors for her hand. But love of thee has got hold\nupon my heart; so wilt thou accept of my daughter to thine\nhandmaid and be her husband? If thou consent to this, I will\ncarry thee to the Sultan of Bassora and tell him that thou art my\nbrother's son and bring thee to be appointed Vizier in my stead,\nthat I may keep the house, for, by Allah, O my son, I am a very\nold man and I am weary.\" When Noureddin heard the Vizier's\nproposal, he bowed his head awhile, then raised it and answered,\n\"I hear and obey.\" At this the Vizier rejoiced and bade his\nservants decorate the great hall, in which they were wont to\ncelebrate the marriages of nobles. Then he assembled his friends\nand the notables of the kingdom and the merchants of Bassora and\nsaid to them, \"I had a brother who was Vizier in Cairo, and God\nvouchsafed him two sons, whilst to me, as you know, He has given\na daughter. My brother proposed to me to marry my daughter to one\nof his sons, to which I consented; and when my daughter came at a\nmarriageable age, he sent me one of his sons, this young man now\npresent, to whom I purpose now to marry her, for he is better\nthan a stranger, and that he shall go in to her in my house this\nnight. After, if he please, he shall abide with me, or if he\nplease, he shall return with his wife to his father.\" The guests\nreplied, \"It is well seen of thee.\" And they looked at Noureddin\nand were pleased with him. So the Vizier sent for Cadis and\nwitnesses, and they drew up the marriage contract, after which\nthe servants perfumed the guests with incense and sprinkled\nrose-water on them, and they drank sherbet of sugar and went\naway. Then the Vizier bade his servants take Noureddin to the\nbath and sent him a suit of the best of his own clothes, besides\ncups and napkins and perfume-burners and all else that he\nrequired. So he went to the bath, and when he came out and put on\nthe suit, he was like the moon on the night of her full. Then he\nmounted his mule and returning to the Vizier's palace, went in to\nthe latter and kissed his hands. The Vizier welcomed him and said\nto him, \"Arise, go in to thy wife this night, and tomorrow I will\ncarry thee to the Sultan; and I pray God to bless thee with all\nmanner of good!\" So Noureddin left him and went in to his wife,\nthe Vizier's daughter. To return to his brother Shemseddin. When\nhe came back to Cairo, after having been absent awhile with the\nSultan, he missed his brother and enquired of his servants, who\nsaid, \"On the day of thy departure with the Sultan, thy brother\nmounted his mule, caparisoned as for state, saying, 'I am going\ntowards El Kelyoubiyeh and shall be absent a day or two, for I am\nheavy of heart; and let none follow me.' Then he rode away, and\nfrom that time to this we have heard nothing of him.\" Shemseddin\nwas concerned at his brother's absence and became exceedingly\nuneasy, when he found that he did not return, and said to\nhimself, \"This is because I spoke harshly to him that night, and\nhe has taken it to heart and gone away; but I must send after\nhim.\" Then he went in to the King and acquainted him with what\nhad happened, and he wrote letters and despatched couriers to his\ndeputies in every province; but after awhile they returned\nwithout having been able to come at any news of Noureddin, who\nhad by this time reached Bassora. So Shemseddin despaired of\nfinding his brother and said, \"Indeed, I went beyond all bounds\nin what I said to him, with reference to the marriage of our\nchildren. Would it had not been so! This all comes of my lack of\nsense and judgment.\" Soon after this he sought in marriage the\ndaughter of a merchant of Cairo and took her to wife and went in\nto her (as it happened by the will of God the Most High, that so\nHe might carry out what He had decreed to His creatures) on the\nvery night on which Noureddin went in to the Vizier's daughter of\nBassora. Moreover, it was as the two brothers had said; for their\nwives conceived by them and were brought to bed on the same day,\nthe wife of Shemseddin of a daughter, never was seen in Cairo a\nfairer than she, and the wife of Noureddin of a son, than whom a\nhandsomer was never seen in his time. They named the boy\nBedreddin Hassan, and his grandfather, the Vizier of Bassora\nrejoiced in him and gave feasts and public entertainments, as for\nthe birth of a king's son. Then he took Noureddin and went up\nwith him to the Sultan. When Noureddin came in presence of the\nKing, he kissed the ground before him and repeated the following\nverses, for he was facile of speech, firm of soul and abounding\nin good parts and natural gifts:\n\nMay all delights of life attend thee, O my lord, And mayst thou\n     live as long as night and morning be!\nLo! when meets tongues recall thy magnanimity, The age doth leap\n     for Joy and Time claps hands for glee.\n\nThe Sultan rose to receive them and after thanking Noureddin for\nhis compliment, asked the Vizier who he was. The Vizier replied,\n\"This is my brother's son.\" And the Sultan said, \"How comes it\nthat we have never heard of him?\" \"O my lord the Sultan,\"\nanswered the Vizier, know that my brother was Vizier in Egypt and\ndied, leaving two sons, whereof the elder became Vizier in his\nfather's stead and the younger, whom thou seest, came to me. I\nhad sworn that I would give my daughter in marriage to none but\nhim; so when he came, I married him to her. Now he is young and I\nam old; my hearing grows dull and my judgment fails; wherefore I\npray our lord the Sultan to make him Vizier in my room, for he is\nmy brother's son and the husband of my daughter, and he is apt\nfor the Vizierate, being a man of sense and judgment.\" The Sultan\nlooked at Noureddin and was pleased with him, so granted the\nVizier's request and appointed him to the Vizierate, presenting\nhim with a splendid dress of honour and one of his choicest mules\nand allotting him stipends and allowances. Noureddin kissed the\nSultan's hands and went home, he and his father-in-law, rejoicing\ngreatly and saying, \"This is of the good fortune of the new-born\nHassan.'' Next day he presented himself before the King and\nrepeated the following verses:\n\nNew favours attend thee each day of thy life, And fortune to\n     counter the craft of thy foes!\nMay thy days with God's favour be white to the end, And black be\n     their days with misfortune and woes!\n\nThe Sultan commanded him to sit in the Vizier's place; so he sat\ndown and applied himself to the business of his office, examining\ninto the folks' affairs and giving judgment on their suits, after\nthe usage of Viziers, whilst the Sultan watched him and wondered\nat his wit and good sense and judgment, wherefore he loved him\nand took him into favour. When the Divan broke up, Noureddin\nreturned to his house and related what had passed to his\nfather-in-law, who rejoiced. Thence-forward Noureddin ceased not\nso to apply himself to the duties of the Vizierate, that he left\nnot the Sultan day or night and the latter increased his stipends\nand allowances till he amassed great wealth and became the owner\nof ships, that made trading voyages for his hand, as well as of\nslaves and servants, black and white, and laid out many estates\nand made irrigation-works and planted gardens. When his son\nHassan was four years old, his father-in-law, the old Vizier,\ndied, and he buried him with great pomp. Then he occupied himself\nwith the education of his son and when he came to the age of\nseven, he brought him a doctor of the law, to teach him in his\nown house, and charged him to give him a good education and teach\nhim good manners. So the tutor taught the boy to read and all\nmanner of useful knowledge, after he had spent some years in\ncommitting the Koran to memory; and he grew in stature and beauty\nand symmetry, even as says the poet:\n\nThe moon in the heaven of his grace shines full and fair to see,\n     And the sun of the morning glows in his cheeks' anemones.\nHe's such a compend of beauties, meseems, indeed, from him The\n     world all beauty borrows that lives in lands and seas.\n\nThe professor brought him up in his father's palace, and all his\nyears of youth he never left the house, till one day his father\nclad him in his richest clothes, and mounting him on one of the\nbest of his mules, carried him to the Sultan, who was struck with\nhis beauty and loved him. As for the people of the city, when he\npassed through the streets on his way to the palace, they were\ndazzled with his loveliness and sat down in the road, awaiting\nhis return, that they might gaze their fill on his beauty and\ngrace and symmetry. The Sultan made much of the boy and bade his\nfather bring him with him, whenever his affairs called him to the\npalace. Noureddin replied, \"I hear and obey,\" and ceased not to\ncarry him to the Sultan's court, till he reached the age of\nfifteen, when his father sickened and calling his son, said to\nhim, \"Know, O my son, that this world is but a temporary abode,\nwhilst the next is an eternal one. Before I die, I wish to give\nthee certain last injunctions, so pay heed to my words and set\nthy mind to understand them.\" Then he gave him certain advice as\nto the proper way of dealing with folk and the conduct of his\naffairs; after which he called to mind his brother and his native\nland and wept for his separation from those he loved. Then he\nwiped away his tears and turning to his son, said to him, \"Before\nI proceed to my parting exhortations, thou must know that thou\nhast an uncle who is Vizier in Cairo, and I left him and went\naway without his consent.\" Then he took a sheet of paper and\nwrote therein all that had happened to him from the day of the\ndispute, together with the dates of his marriage and going in to\nthe Vizier's daughter and the birth of his son; after which he\nfolded and sealed the paper and gave it to his son, saying, \"keep\nthis paper carefully, for in it is written thy rank and lineage\nand origin, and if any mishap befall thee, go to Cairo and ask\nfor thine uncle and give him this and tell him that I died in a\nforeign land, full of longing for him.\" So Bedreddin took the\npaper and wrapping it in a piece of waxed cloth, sewed it into\nthe lining of his skull-cap and wound the muslin of his turban\nover it, weeping the while at the thought of losing his father,\nwhilst himself but a boy. Then said Noureddin, \"I have five\nbehests to lay on thee: and the first is that thou be not too\nfamiliar with any one, neither frequent him nor foregather with\nhim over-much; so shalt thou be safe from his mischief, for in\nretirement is safety, and I have heard it said by a poet:\n\nThere is no man in all the world, whose love is worth thy trust,\n     No friend who, if fate play thee false, will true and\n     constant be.\nWherefore I'd have thee live apart and lean for help on none. In\n     this I give thee good advice; so let it profit thee.\n\nSecondly, O my son, oppress no one, lest Fortune oppress thee;\nfor the fortune of this world is one day for thee and another\nagainst thee, and its goods are but a loan to be repaid. As I\nhave heard a poet say:\n\nBe slow to move and hasten not to snatch thy heart's desire; Be\n     merciful to all, 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 oppress.\n\nThirdly, preserve silence and let thy faults distract thee from\nthose of other men; for it is said that in silence is safety; and\nthereon I have heard the following verses:\n\nSilence is fair and safety lies in taciturnity. So, when thou\n     speak'st, I counsel thee, give not thy tongue the rein.\nSince, for one time that thou repent the having held thy tongue,\n     Thou shalt of having spoke repent again and yet again.\n\nFourthly, O my son, beware of drinking wine, for wine is the root\nof all evils and the thief of wit. Guard thyself from it, for the\npoet says:\n\nWine and the drinkers of wine I have put away, And am become of\n     those that of it mis-say.\nFor wine indeed diverts from the road of right, And to all kinds\n     of evil opens the way.\n\nLastly, O my son, keep thy wealth, that it may keep thee, and\nwatch over it, that it may watch over thee. Squander not thy\nsubstance, or thou wilt come to need the meanest of folk. Guard\nwell thy money, for it is a sovereign salve for the wounds of\nlife, even as says the poet:\n\nIf wealth should fail, there is no friend will bear thee company,\n     But whilst thy substance still abounds, all men are friends\n     to thee.\nHow many a foe for money's sake hath companied with me! But when\n     wealth failed beneath my hand, my dearest friend did flee.\"\n\nAnd Noureddin ceased not to exhort his son till his spirit\ndeparted and his house became the abode of mourning. The King and\nall the Amirs grieved for him and buried him; but Bedreddin\nceased not to bewail his father for two whole months, during\nwhich time he never left the house, nor did he attend the Divan\nor present himself before the Sultan. At last the latter became\nwroth with him and made one of his chamberlains Vizier in his\nstead and bade him seize on all Noureddin's houses and goods and\npossessions and seal them up. So the new Vizier went forth to do\nthis and take Bedreddin Hassan and bring him before the Sultan,\nthat he might deal with him as he thought fit. Now there was\namong the troops one who had been a servant of the deceased\nVizier, and when he heard this order he spurred his steed and\nrode at full speed to Bedreddin's house, where he found him\nsitting at the gate, with downcast head, broken-hearted. So he\ndismounted and kissing his hand, said to him, \"O my lord and son\nof my lord, hasten, ere destruction light on thee!\" When\nBedreddin heard this, he trembled and said, \"What is the matter?\"\n\"The Sultan is wroth with thee,\" answered the other, \"and has\ngiven orders for thine arrest, and calamity follows hard upon me,\nso flee for thy life.\" Quoth Bedreddin, \"Is there time for me to\ngo in and take somewhat to stand me in stead in my strangerhood?\"\nBut the other answered, \"O my lord, rise at once and save thyself\nwhilst it is yet time, and leave thy house.\" So Bedreddin covered\nhis face with his skirt and went out and walked on till he came\nwithout the city. On his way, he heard the people saying that the\nSultan had sent the new Vizier to the late Vizier's house, to\nseize on his possessions and take his son Bedreddin Hassan and\nbring him before him, that he might put him to death, and they\ngrieved for him by reason of his beauty and grace. When he heard\nthis, he fled forth at hazard, not knowing whither, and chance\nled him to the cemetery where his father was buried. So he passed\namong the tombs, till he came to his father's sepulchre and\nentering, sat down and let fall from over his head the skirt of\nhis cassock, which was made of brocade, with the following lines\nembroidered in gold on the hem:\n\nThou whose face with the rainbow might vie, That art bright as\n     the stars of the sky,\nMay thy fortune ne'er fail to be fair And thy glory for ever be\n     high!\n\nAs he sat by his father's tomb, there came up a Jew, as he were a\nmoney-changer, with a pair of saddle-bags full of gold, and\naccosted him, saying, \"Whither away, O my lord? It is near the\nend of the day and thou art lightly clad and bearest the marks of\nchagrin on thy countenance.\" \"I was asleep but now,\" answered\nBedreddin, \"when my father appeared to me and reproached me for\nnot having visited his tomb, and I awoke, trembling, and came\nhither at once, fearing lest the day should pass, without my\npaying him a visit, which would have been grievous to me.\" \"O my\nlord,\" said the Jew, \"thy father had many ships at sea, whereof\nsome are now due; and it is my wish to buy of thee the cargo of\nthe first that comes into port for a thousand dinars.\" \"I will\nwell,\" answered Bedreddin; whereupon the Jew took out a purse of\ngold and counted out a thousand dinars, which he gave to\nBedreddin, saying, \"Write me an acknowledgment and seal it.\" So\nBedreddin took pen and paper and wrote the following in double:\n\"The writer, Bedreddin Hassan, son of the Vizier Noureddin of\nBassora, has sold to Isaac the Jew all the cargo of the first of\nhis father's ships that comes into port, at the price of a\nthousand dinars, which he has received in advance.\" Then he gave\none copy to the Jew, who took it and went away, and put the other\nin the purse, which he thrust into his waistcloth. And he\nbethought him of his former estate of honour and consideration\nand wept and repeated the following verses:\n\nHome is no longer home to me, now ye are gone away, Nor are the\n     neighbours neighbours now, after our parting-day,\nThe comrade, whom I loved whilere, no more a comrade is, And even\n     the very sun and moon' no longer bright are they.\nYe went away and all the world was saddened for your loss, And\n     all the hills and plains grew dark with sorrow and dismay.\nO that the raven of ill-luck, that croaked our parting hour, May\n     lose his plumes nor find a nest in which his bead to lay!\nMy patience fails me for desire, my body wasteth sore; How many a\n     veil the hands of death and parting rend in tway!\nI wonder, will our happy nights come ever back again, Or one\n     house hold us two once more, after the olden way!\n\nThen he wept sore and laying his head on his father's tomb,\nremained plunged in melancholy thought till drowsiness overcame\nhim and he fell asleep. He slept on till the moon rose, when\nhis head rolled off the tomb and he lay on his back, with his\nface gleaming in the moon. Now the cemetery was haunted by\ntrue-believing Jinn, and presently a Jinniyeh came out and seeing\nBedreddin lying asleep, marvelled at his beauty and grace and\nsaid, \"Glory be to God! This can be no other than one of the\nchildren of Paradise.\" Then she rose into the air to fly about,\nas was her wont, and met an Afrit flying, who saluted her, and\nshe said to him, \"Whence comest thou?\" \"From Cairo,\" replied he.\nQuoth she, \"Wilt thou come with me and look on the beauty of a\nyouth who sleeps in the burial-ground yonder?\" And he said, \"I\nwill well.\" So they both flew down to the tomb and she showed him\nBedreddin, saying, \"Sawest thou ever the like of this young man?\"\nThe Afrit looked at him and exclaimed, \"Blessed be God to whom\nthere is none like! But, O my sister, shall I tell thee what I\nhave seen this day?\" \"What is that?\" asked she; and he answered,\n\"I have seen a young lady in the land of Egypt, who is the\ncounterpart of this youth. She is the daughter of the Vizier\nShemseddin of Cairo and is possessed of beauty and grace and\nsymmetry and perfection. When she reached the age of fifteen, the\nSultan of Egypt heard of her and sending for the Vizier her\nfather, said to him, 'O Vizier, it has come to my knowledge\nthat thou hast a daughter and I wish to demand her of thee in\nmarriage.' 'O my lord the Sultan,' replied the Vizier, 'I\nprithee accept my excuse and take compassion on my grief, for\nthou knowest that my brother Noureddin, who was my partner in the\nVizierate, left us many years ago and went I know not whither.\nNow the reason of his departure was that one night we were\nsitting talking of marriage and children, when we came to words\non the subject and he was angry with me and went away in his\nanger. But on the day her mother bore her, fifteen years ago, I\nswore that I would marry my daughter to none but my brother's\nson. Now, awhile ago, I heard that he is lately dead at Bassora,\nwhere he was Vizier, after having married the former Vizier's\ndaughter and had by her a son; and I will not marry my daughter\nbut to him, in honour of my brother's memory. Moreover, I\nrecorded the date of my marriage and of the conception and birth\nof my daughter and drew her horoscope, and she is destined for\nher cousin and there are girls in plenty for our lord the\nSultan.' When the Sultan heard the Vizier's answer, he was\nexceeding wroth and said, 'When the like of me demands in\nmarriage the daughter of the like of thee, he confers a favour\non her, and thou puttest me off with idle excuses! As my head\nliveth, I will marry her to the meanest of my serving men, to\nspite thee!' Now the Sultan had a hunchbacked groom, with a hump\nbehind and before, and he sent for him and married him to the\nVizier's daughter, whether she would or no, and bade carry him in\nprocession and bring him in to his bride this very night. Now I\nhave just come from Cairo, where I left the hunchback at the door\nof the bath, surrounded by the King's servants holding lighted\nflambeaux and making mock of him. As for the Vizier's daughter,\nshe sits among her nurses and tire-women, weeping, for they have\nforbidden her father access to her. Never, O my sister, saw I one\nmore hideous than the hunchback, whilst the young lady is the\nlikest of all folk to this youth, though she is even handsomer\nthan he.\" \"Thou liest,\" replied the Jinniyeh; \"this youth is\nhandsomer than any one of his day.\" \"By Allah, O my sister,\"\nreplied the Afrit, \"the girl I speak of is handsomer than he, but\nnone but he is worthy of her, for they resemble each other as\nthey were brother and sister or brothers' children. Alas, the\npity of her with that hunchback!\" Then said she, \"O my brother,\nlet us take him up and carry him to Cairo, that we may compare\nhim with the damsel and see whether of them is the handsomer.\"\n\"I hear and obey,\" answered the Afrit; \"this is right well\nadvised, and I will carry him.\" So he took Bedreddin up and flew\nwith him through the air, accompanied by the Afriteh, till he\nalighted in the city of Cairo and set him down on a stone bench.\nThen he aroused him, and when he found himself no longer on his\nfather's tomb in Bassora, but in a strange city, he would have\ncried out, but the Afrit gave him a cuff and imposed silence on\nhim. Then he brought him a splendid dress and made him put it on,\nand giving him a lighted flambeau, said to him, \"Know that I have\nbrought thee hither, meaning to do thee a good turn for the love\nof God; so take this torch and mingle with the people at the door\nof the bath and accompany them to the house of the wedding\nfestival. Then advance and enter the hall and fear none, but sit\ndown on the right hand of the humpbacked bridegroom; and as often\nas the tire-women and singers stop before thee, put thy hand into\nthy pocket and thou wilt find it full of gold. Take it out by\nhandsful and give to all who come to thee and spare not, for as\noften as thou puttest thy hand into thy pocket, thou wilt find it\nwithout fail full of gold. So fear nothing, but put thy trust in\nHim who created thee, for all this is not by shine own strength\nbut by that of God, that His decrees may take effect upon His\ncreatures.\" Quoth Bedreddin to himself, \"I wonder what is the\nmeaning of all this!\" And taking the torch, went to the bath,\nwhere he found the hunchback already on horseback. So he mixed\nwith the people and moved on with the bridal-procession; and as\noften as the singing-women stopped to collect largesse from the\npeople, he put his hand into his pocket and finding it full\nof gold, took out a handful and threw it into the singers'\ntambourine, till it was full of dinars. The singing women were\namazed at his munificence and they and the people wondered at his\nbeauty and grace and the richness of his dress. He ceased not to\ndo thus, till he reached the Vizier's palace, where the\nchamberlains drove back the people and forbade them to enter;\nbut the singing women said, \"By Allah, we will not enter, unless\nthis young man enter with us, for he has overwhelmed us with\nhis bounties; nor shall the bride be displayed, except he be\npresent.\" So the chamberlains let him pass, and he entered the\nbridal saloon with the singers, who made him sit down, in\ndefiance of the humpbacked bridegroom. The wives of the Viziers\nand Amirs and chamberlains were ranged, each veiled to the eyes\nand holding a great lighted flambeau, in two ranks, extending\nright and left from the bride's throne[FN#61] to the upper end of\nthe dais, in front of the door from which she was to issue. When\nthe ladies saw Bedreddin and noted his beauty and grace and his\nface that shone like the new moon, they all inclined to him, and\nthe singers said to all the women present, \"You must know that\nthis handsome youth has handselled us with nought but red gold,\nso fail ye not to wait on him and comply with all that he says.\"\nSo all the women crowded round Bedreddin, with their torches, and\ngazed on his beauty arid envied him his grace; and each would\ngladly have lain in his bosom an hour or a year. In their\nintoxication, they let fall their veils from their faces and\nsaid, \"Happy she who belongs to him or to whom he belongs!\" And\nthey cursed the humpbacked groom and him who was the cause of his\nmarriage to that lovely lady; and as often as they invoked\nblessings on Bedreddin, they followed them up with imprecations\non the hunchback, saying, \"Indeed, this youth and he alone\ndeserves our bride. Alas, the pity of her with this wretched\nhunchback, God's curse be on him and on the Sultan who will have\nher marry him!\" Then the singers beat their tambourines and\nraised cries of joy, announcing the coming of the bride; and the\nVizier's daughter entered, surrounded by her tire-women, who had\nperfumed her with essences and incensed her and decked her hair\nand dressed her in costly robes and ornaments such as were worn\nby the ancient kings of Persia. Over all she wore a robe\nembroidered in red gold with figures of birds and beasts with\neyes and beaks of precious stones and feet and claws of red\nrubies and green beryl, and about her neck was clasped a necklace\nof Yemen work, worth many thousands of dinars, whose beazels were\nall manner jewels, never had Caesar or King of Yemen its like.\nShe seemed as it were the full moon, when it shines out on the\nfourteenth night, or one of the houris of Paradise, glory be to\nHim who made her so splendidly fair! The women encompassed her as\nthey were stars, and she in their midst as the moon breaking\nthrough the clouds. As she came forward, swaying gracefully to\nand fro, the hunchback rose to kiss her, but she turned from him\nand seeing Bedreddin Hassan seated, with all the company gazing\non him, went and stood before him. When the folk saw her thus\nattracted towards Bedreddin, they laughed and shouted and the\nsingers raised their voices, whereupon he put his hand to his\npocket and cast gold by handsful into the tambourines of the\nsinging-women, who rejoiced and said, \"Would this bride were\nthine!\" At this he smiled, and the people came round him, with\nthe flambeaux in their hands, whilst the hunchback was left\nsitting alone, looking like an ape; for as often as they\nlighted a candle for him, it went out and he abode in darkness,\nspeechless and confounded and grumbling to himself. When\nBedreddin saw the bridegroom sitting moping alone and all the\nlights and people collected round himself, he was confounded and\nmarvelled; but when he looked at his cousin, the Vizier's\ndaughter, he rejoiced and was glad, for indeed her face was\nradiant with light and brilliancy. Then the tire-women took off\nthe veil and displayed the bride in her first dress of red satin,\nand she moved to and fro with a languorous grace, till the heads\nof all the men and women were turned by her loveliness, for she\nwas even as says the excellent poet:\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 flaming fires that my heart devour.\n\nThen they changed her dress and displayed her in a robe of blue;\nand she reappeared like the moon when it bursts through the\nclouds, with her coal-black hair and her smiling teeth, her\ndelicate cheeks and her swelling bosom, even as says the sublime\npoet:\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 clad her in a third dress and letting down her long\nblack ringlets, veiled her face to her eyes with the\nsuper-abundance of her hair, which vied with the murkiest night in\nlength and blackness; and she smote all hearts with the enchanted\narrows of her glances. As says the poet:\n\nWith hair that hides her rosy cheeks ev'n to her speaking eyes,\n     She comes; and I her locks compare unto a sable cloud\nAnd say to her, \"Thou curtainest the morning with the night.\" But\n     she, \"Not so; it is the moon that with the dark I shroud.\"\n\nThen they displayed her in the fourth dress, and she shone forth\nlike the rising sun, swaying to and fro with amorous languor and\nturning from side to side with gazelle-like grace. And she\npierced hearts with the arrows of her eyelashes; even as says the\npoet:\n\nA sun of beauty she appears to all that 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     Conquered, he hasteneth his face behind the clouds to hide.\n\nThen they displayed her in the fifth dress, with her ringlets let\ndown. The downy hair crept along her cheeks, and she swayed to\nand fro, like a willow-wand or a gazelle bending down to drink,\nwith graceful motions of the neck and hips. As says the poet,\ndescribing her:\n\nLike the full moon she doth appear, on a calm night and 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.\nWhen I clasp hands about her waist, to press her to my heart, The\n     swelling apples of her breast compel me to forbear.\nAlas, her beauty! it outdoes all other loveliness; Her shape\n     transcends the willow-wand and makes the branch despair.\n\nThen they unveiled her in the sixth dress, which was green. In\nthis she reached the utmost bounds of loveliness, outvying in\nslender straightness the tawny spear-shaft, and in suppleness and\nflexile grace the bending branch, whilst the splendours of her\nface outshone the radiance of the full moon. Indeed, she\ntranscended the fair of all quarters of the world and all hearts\nwere broken by her loveliness; for she was even as says the poet:\n\nA damsel made for love and decked with subtle grace; You'd say\n     the very sun had borrowed from her face.\nShe came in robes of green, the likeness of the leaf That the\n     pomegranate flower cloth in the bud encase.\n\"How call'st thou this thy dress?\" we said to her, and she Made\n     answer with a word full of malicious grace.\n\"Breaker of Hearts,\" quoth she, \"I call it, for therewith I've\n     broken many a heart among the human race.\"\n\nThen they dressed her in the seventh dress, which was of a colour\nbetween saffron and orange, even as says the poet:\n\nScented with sandal and musk and ambergris, lo! she comes. The\n     blended hues of her dress 'twixt orange and saffron show.\nSlender and shapely she is; vivacity bids her arise, But the\n     weight of her hips says, \"Sit, or softly and slowly go.\"\nWhen I solicit her kiss and sue for my heart's desire, \"Be\n     gracious,\" her beauty says, but her coquetry answers, \"No.\"\n\nThey unveiled the bride, in all her seven dresses, before\nBedreddin Hassan, leaving the hunchback sitting by himself; and\nwhen she opened her eyes, she said, \"O my God, grant that this\nyouth may be my husband and deliver me from this humpbacked\ngroom.\" Then they dismissed the company and all who were present\nretired, except Bedreddin Hassan and the hunchback, whilst the\ntire-women carried off the bride to undress her and prepare her\nfor the bridegroom. Thereupon the hunchback came up to Bedreddin\nHassan and said to him, \"O my lord, thou hast cheered us with\nthy company tonight and overwhelmed us with thy favours. Wilt\nthou not now rise and depart?\" \"In the name of God,\" replied\nBedreddin, and rising, went out of the door, where the Afrit met\nhim and said to him, \"Stay where thou art, and when the hunchback\ngoes out to the draught-house, enter thou the bride chamber and\ndo not hesitate, but sit down in the alcove, and when the bride\ncomes, say to her, ''Tis I who am thy husband, for the King only\nplayed this trick on thee, to conjure the evil eye from us; and\nhe whom thou sawest is one of our grooms.' Then go up to her and\nuncover her face and fear nothing, for jealousy hath taken us of\nthis affair and none is worthy to enjoy her youth but thyself.'\nAs he was yet speaking, the groom came out and entering the\ncloset, sat down on the stool. Hardly had he done so, when the\nAfrit appeared to him in the shape of a mouse, issuing from the\nwater-trough,[FN#62] and cried \"Queek!\" Quoth the hunchback,\n\"What ails thee?\" And the mouse increased till it became a cat\nand said, \"Miaou! Miaou!\" Then it grew still more and became a\ndog and cried, \"Bow! Wow!\" When the hunchback saw this, he was\nterrified and exclaimed, \"Begone, O unlucky one!\" The dog\nincreased and became an ass-colt, that brayed and cried out in\nhis face, \"Heehaw! Heehaw!\" Whereupon the hunchback quaked and\ncried out, \"Come to my aid, O people of the house!\" But the ass\nincreased and swelled, till it became a buffalo and barred the\nway against him and said with a human voice, \"Out on thee,\nhunchback, thou stinkard!\" The groom was seized with a colic and\nsat down on the jakes with his clothes on and his teeth\nchattering. Quoth the Afrit, \"Is the world so small that thou\ncanst find none to marry but my mistress?'' But he was silent,\nand the Afrit said, \"Answer me, or I will make thee a dweller in\nthe dust.\" \"By Allah,\" replied the hunchback, \"I am not to blame,\nfor they forced me to marry her, and I knew not that she had a\nbuffalo for a gallant; but I repent to God and to thee. What wilt\nthou have me do?\" Quoth the Afrit, \"I swear to thee that, if thou\nleave this place or speak before sunrise, I will wring thy neck!\nWhen the sun rises, go thy way and never return to this house.\"\nSo saying, he seized the hunchback and set him upside down\nagainst the wall, with his head in the slit and his feet in the\nair, and said to him, \"I will leave thee here and watch thee\ntill sunrise; and if thou stir before then, I will seize thee by\nthe feet and dash out thy brains against the wall.\" Meanwhile\nBedreddin Hassan entered the bride chamber and sat down in the\nalcove. Presently, in came the bride, attended by an old woman,\nwho stopped at the door of the chamber and said, \"O father of\nsymmetry,[FN#63] arise and take what God sends thee.\" Then the\nold woman went away, and the bride, whose name was the Lady of\nBeauty, entered, heart-broken and saying to herself, \"By Allah, I\nwill never yield myself to him, though he kill me!\" When she came\nto the alcove, she saw Bedreddin sitting there and said, \"O my\nfriend, thou here at this hour! By Allah, I was wishing that thou\nwast my husband or that thou and the groom were partners in me!\"\n\"How should the groom have access to thee,\" asked Bedreddin,\n\"and how should he share with me in thee?\" Quoth she \"Who is my\nhusband, thou or he?\" \"O Lady of Beauty,\" replied Bedreddin, \"all\nthis was only a device to conjure the evil eye from us. Thy\nfather hired the hunchback for ten diners to that end, and now he\nhas taken his wage and gone away. Didst thou not see the singers\nand tire-women laughing at him and how thy people displayed thee\nbefore me?\" When the Lady of Beauty heard this, she smiled and\nrejoiced and laughed softly. Then she said to him, \"Thou hast\nquenched the fire of my heart, so, by Allah, take me and press me\nto thy bosom.\" Now she was without clothes; so she threw open the\nveil in which she was wrapped and showed her hidden charms. At\nthis sight, desire stirred in Bedreddin, and he rose and put off\nhis clothes. The purse of a thousand dinars he had received of\nthe Jew he wrapped in his trousers and laid them under the\nmattress; then took off his turban and hung it on the settle,\nremaining in a skull-cap and shirt of fine silk, laced with gold.\nWith this arose the Lady of Beauty and drew him to her, and he\ndid the like with her. Then he took her to his embrace and\npointing the engine that batters down the fortalice of virginity,\nstormed the citadel and found her an unpierced pearl and a filly\nthat none but he had ridden. So he took her maidenhead and\nenjoyed her dower of youth; nor did he stint to return to the\nassault till he had furnished fifteen courses, and she conceived\nby him. Then he laid his hand under her head and she did the\nlike, and they embraced and fell asleep in each other's arms,\nwhilst the tongue of the case spoke the words of the poet:\n\nCleave fast to her thou lov'st and let the envious rail amain,\n     For calumny and envy ne'er to favour love were fain.\nLo! the Compassionate hath made no fairer thing to see Than when\n     one couch in its embrace enfoldeth lovers twain,\nEach to the other's bosom clasped, clad in their own delight,\n     Whilst hand with hand and arm with arm about their necks\n     enchain.\nLo! when two hearts are straitly knit in passion and desire, But\n     on cold iron smite the folk that chide at them in vain.\nIf in thy time thou find but one to love thee and be true, I rede\n     thee cast the world away and with that one remain.\n\nAs soon as Bedreddin was asleep, the Afrit said to the Afriteh,\n\"Come, let us take up the young man and carry him back to his\nplace, ere the dawn overtake us, for the day is near.\" So she\ntook up Bedreddin, as he lay asleep, clad only in his shirt and\nskull-cap, and flew away with him, accompanied by the Afrit. But\nthe dawn overtook them midway and the muezzins began to chant the\ncall to morning-prayer. Then God let His angels cast at the Afrit\nwith shooting-stars, and he was consumed; but the Afriteh escaped\nand lighted down with Bedreddin, fearing to carry him further,\nlest he should come to harm. Now as fate would have it, she had\nreached the city of Damascus, so she laid Bedreddin down before\none of its gates and flew away. As soon as it was day, the gate\nwas thrown open and the folk came out, and seeing a handsome\nyoung man, clad in nothing but a shirt and skull-cap, lying on\nthe ground, drowned in sleep by reason of his much swink of the\nnight before, said, \"Happy she with whom this youth lay the\nnight! Would he had waited to put on his clothes!\" Quoth another,\n\"A sorry race are young men of family! Belike, this fellow but\nnow came forth of the tavern on some occasion or other, but being\novercome with drunkenness, missed the place he was making for and\nstrayed till he came to the city gate, and finding it shut, lay\ndown and fell asleep.\" As they were bandying words about him, the\nbreeze blew on him and raising his shirt, showed a stomach and\nnavel and legs and thighs, firm and clear as crystal and softer\nthan cream; whereupon the bystanders exclaimed, \"By Allah, it is\ngood!\" And made such a noise, that Bedreddin awoke and finding\nhimself lying at the gate of a city, in the midst of a crowd of\npeople, was astonished and said to them, \"O good people, where am\nI, and why do you crowd round me thus?\" \"We found thee lying here\nasleep, at the time of the call to morning-prayer,\" replied\nthey, \"and this is all we know of the matter. Where didst thou\nlie last night?\" \"By Allah, good people,\" answered he, \"I lay\nlast night in Cairo!\" Quoth one, \"Thou hast eaten hashish.\" And\nanother, \"Thou art mad; how couldst thou lie yesternight in Cairo\nand awake this morning in Damascus?\" \"By Allah, good people,\"\nrejoined he, \"I do not lie to you; indeed I lay last night in the\ncity of Cairo and yesterday I was in Bassora.\" \"Good,\" said one;\nand another, \"This youth is mad.\" And they clapped their hands at\nhim and said to each other, \"Alack, the pity of his youth! By\nAllah, there is no doubt of his madness.\" Then said they to him,\n\"Collect thyself and return to thy senses. How couldst thou be in\nBassora yesterday and in Cairo last night and yet awake in\nDamascus this morning?\" But he said, \"Indeed, I was a bridegroom\nin Cairo last night.\" \"Doubtless thou hast been dreaming,\"\nrejoined they, \"and hast seen all this in sleep.\" So he bethought\nhimself awhile, then said to them, \"By Allah, it was no dream! I\ncertainly went to Cairo and they displayed the bride before me,\nin the presence of the hunchback. By Allah, O my brethren, this\nwas no dream; or if it was a dream, where is the purse of gold I\nhad with me and my turban and trousers and the rest of my\nclothes?\" Then he rose and entered the town and passed through\nits streets and markets; but the people followed him and pressed\non him, crying out, \"Madman! Madman!\" till he took refuge in a\ncook's shop. Now this cook had been a robber and a sharper, but\nGod had made him repent and turn from his evil ways and open a\ncookshop; and all the people of Damascus stood in awe of him and\nfeared his mischief. So when they saw Bedreddin enter his shop,\nthey dispersed for fear of him and went their ways. The cook\nlooked at Bedreddin and noting his beauty and grace, fell in love\nwith him and said to him, \"Whence comest thou, O youth? Tell me\nthy case, for thou art become to me dearer than my soul.\" So\nBedreddin told him all that had befallen him from first to last;\nand the cook said, \"O my lord Bedreddin, this is indeed a strange\nthing and a rare story; but, O my son, keep thy case secret, till\nGod grant thee relief, and abide here with me meanwhile, for I am\nchildless and will adopt thee as my son.\" And Bedreddin answered,\n\"I will well, O uncle.\" With this the cook went to the bazaar,\nwhere he bought him a handsome suit of clothes and made him put\nit on, then carried him to the Cadi and formally acknowledged him\nas his son. So Bedreddin passed in Damascus for the cook's son\nand abode with him, sitting in the shop to take the money.\n\nTo return to the Lady of Beauty. When the day broke and she awoke\nfrom sleep, she missed Bedreddin from her side and thought he had\ngone to the lavatory, so lay expecting him awhile, when behold,\nher father entered. Now he was sore at heart by reason of what\nhad passed between him and the Sultan and for that he had married\nhis daughter by force to one of his servants, and he a lump of a\nhunchbacked groom; and he said to himself, \"If she have suffered\nthis damnable fellow to possess her, I will kill her.\" So he came\nto the door of the alcove and cried out, \"Ho, Lady of Beauty!\"\nShe replied, \"Here am I, O my lord\"; and came out tottering for\njoy, with a face whose brightness and beauty had redoubled for\nthat she had lain in the arms of that gazelle,[FN#64] and kissed\nthe ground before her father. When the Vizier saw her thus, he\nsaid to her, \"O accursed woman, dost thou rejoice in this groom?\"\nAt these words, the Lady of Beauty smiled and said, \"O my lord,\nlet what happened yesterday suffice, when all the folk were\nlaughing at me and flouting me with that groom, who is not worth\nthe paring of one of my husband's nails. By Allah, I never in all\nmy life passed a pleasanter night! So do not mock me by reminding\nme of that hunchback.\" When her father heard this, he was filled\nwith rage and glared at her, saving, \"Out on thee! what words are\nthese? It was the hunchbacked groom that lay with thee.\" \"For\nGod's sake,\" replied the Lady of Beauty, \"do not mention him to\nme, may God curse his father! And mock me not, for the groom was\nonly hired for ten dinars to conjure the evil eye from us, and he\ntook his hire and departed. As for me, I entered the bridal\nchamber, where I found my true husband sitting in the alcove, him\nbefore whom the singers had unveiled me and who flung them the\nred gold by handsful, till he made all the poor there rich; and I\npassed the night in the arms of my sprightly husband, with the\nblack eyes and joined eyebrows.\" When her father heard this, the\nlight in his eyes became darkness, and he cried out at her,\nsaying, \"O wanton, what is this thou sayest? Where are thy\nsenses?\" \"O my father,\" rejoined she, \"thou breakest my heart\nwith thy persistence in making mock of me! Indeed, my husband,\nwho took my maidenhead, is in the wardrobe and I am with child by\nhim.\" The Vizier rose, wondering, and entered the draught-house,\nwhere he found the hunchbacked groom with his head in the slit\nand his heels in the air. At this sight he was confounded and\nsaid, \"This is none other than the hunchback.\" So he called to\nhim, \"Hallo, hunchback!\" The groom made no answer but a grunt,\nthinking it was the Afrit who spoke to him. But the Vizier cried\nout at him, saying, \"Speak, or I will cut off thy head with this\nsword.\" Then said the hunchback, \"By Allah, O Chief of the\nAfrits, I have not lifted my head since thou didst set me here;\nso, God on thee, have mercy on me!\" \"What is this thou sayest?\"\nquoth the Vizier. \"I am no Afrit; I am the father of the bride.\"\n\"It is enough that though hast already gone nigh to make me lose\nmy life,\" replied the hunchback, \"go thy ways ere he come upon\nthee who served me thus. Could ye find none to whom to marry me\nbut the mistress of an Afrit and the beloved of a buffalo? May\nGod curse him who married me to her and him who was the cause of\nit?\" Then said the Vizier to him, \"Come, get up out of this\nplace.\" \"Am I mad,\" answered the groom, \"that I should go with\nthee without the Afrit's leave? He said to me, 'When the sun\nrises, get up and go thy way.' So has the sun risen or no? for I\ndare not budge till then.\" \"Who brought thee hither?\" asked the\nVizier; and the hunchback replied, \"I came here last night to do\nan occasion, when behold, a mouse came out of the water and\nsqueaked and grew to a buffalo and spoke to me words that entered\nmy ears. Then he left me here and went away, accursed be the\nbride and he who married me to her!\" The Vizier went up to him\nand set him on his feet; and he went out, running, not crediting\nthat the sun had risen, and repaired to the Sultan, to whom he\nrelated what had befallen him with the Afrit. Meanwhile, the\nVizier returned to the bride's chamber, troubled in mind about\nhis daughter, and said to her, \"O my daughter, expound thy case\nto me.\" \"O my father,\" answered she, \"what more can I tell thee?\nIndeed, the bridegroom, he before whom they displayed me\nyesterday, lay with me all night and took my virginity, and I am\nwith child by him. If thou believe me not, there is his turban,\njust as he left it, on the settle, and his trousers under the\nbed, with I know not what wrapped up in them.\" When her father\nheard this, he entered the alcove and found Bedreddin's turban;\nso he took it up and turning it about, said, \"This is a Vizier's\nturban, except that it is of the Mosul cut.\"[FN#65] Then he\nperceived an amulet sewn in the cap of the turban so he unsewed\nthe lining and took it out; then took the trousers, in which was\nthe purse of a thousand dinars. In the latter he found the\nduplicate of Bedreddin's docket of sale to the Jew, naming him\nas Bedreddin Hassan, son of Noureddin Ali of Cairo. No sooner had\nhe read this, than he cried out and fell down in a swoon; and\nwhen he revived, he wondered and said, \"There is no god but God\nthe Omnipotent! O my daughter, dost thou know who took thy\nmaidenhead?\" \"No,\" answered she; and he said, \"It was thy\ncousin, my brother's son, and these thousand dinars are thy\ndowry' Glory be to God! Would I knew how this had come about!\"\nThen he opened the amulet and found therein a paper in the\nhandwriting of his brother Noureddin; and when he saw his\nwriting, he knew it and kissed it again and again, weeping and\nmaking moan for his brother. Then he read the scroll and found in\nit a record of the dates of Noureddin's marriage with the\nVizier's daughter of Bassora, his going in to her, her conception\nand the birth of Bedreddin Hassan, and the history of his\nbrother's life till his death. At this he wondered and was moved\nto joy and comparing the dates with those of his own marriage and\nthe birth of his daughter the Lady of Beauty, found that they\nagreed in all respects. So he took the scroll and carrying it to\nthe Sultan, told him the whole story from first to last, at which\nthe King wondered and commanded the case to be at once set down\nin writing. The Vizier abode all that day awaiting his nephew,\nbut he came not; and when seven days were past and he could learn\nnothing of him, he said, \"By Allah, I will do a thing that none\nhas done before me!\" So he took pen and ink and paper and drew a\nplan of the bride-chamber, showing the disposition of all the\nfurniture therein, as that the alcove was in such a place, this\nor that curtain in another, and so on with all that was in the\nroom. Then he folded the paper and laid it aside, and causing all\nthe furniture to be taken up and stored away, took Bedreddin's\npurse and turban and clothes and locked them up with an iron\npadlock, on which he set a seal, against his nephew's coming. As\nfor the Lady of Beauty, she accomplished the months of her\npregnancy and bore a son like the full moon, resembling his\nfather in beauty and grace. They cut his navel and blackened his\neyelids with kohl[FN#66] and committed him to the nurses, naming\nhim Agib. His day was as a month and his month as a year, and\nwhen seven years had passed over him, his grandfather sent him to\nschool, bidding the master teach him to read the Koran and give\nhim a good education; and he remained at the school four years,\ntill he began to bully the little ones and beat them and abuse\nthem, saying, \"Which of you is like me? I am the son of the\nVizier of Egypt.\" At last the children came, in a body, to\ncomplain to the monitor of Agib's behavior to them, and he said,\n\"I will tell you how to do with him, so that he shall leave\ncoming to the school and you shall never see him again. It is\nthis: when he comes to-morrow, sit down round him and let one of\nyou say to the others, 'By Allah, none shall play at this game\nexcept he tell us the names of his father and mother; for he who\nknows not his parents' names is a bastard and shall not play with\nus.'\" So next day, when Agib came to the school, they all\nassembled round him, and one of them said, \"We will play a game,\nin which no one shall join except he tell us the names of his\nfather and mother.\" And they all said, \"By Allah, it is good.\"\nThen said one of them, \"My name is Majid, my mother's name is\nAlawiyeh and my father's Izeddin.\" And the others said the like,\ntill it came to Agib's turn and he said, \"My name is Agib, my\nmother is the Lady of Beauty and my father Shemseddin, Vizier of\nEgypt.\" \"By Allah,\" cried they, \"the Vizier is not thy father.\"\nSaid he, \"He is indeed my father.\" Then they all laughed and\nclapped their hands at him, saying, \"He does not know his father!\nArise and go out from us, for none shall play with us, except he\nknow his father's name.\" Thereupon they dispersed from around him\nand laughed him to scorn, leaving him choked with tears and\nmortification. Then said the monitor to him, \"O Agib, knowst thou\nnot that the Vizier is thy mother's father, thy grandfather and\nnot thy father? As for thy father, thou knowest him not nor do\nwe, for the Sultan married thy mother to a humpbacked groom; but\nthe Jinn came and lay with her, and thou hast no known father.\nWherefore, do thou leave evening thyself with the boys in the\nschool, till thou know who is thy father; for till then thou wilt\npass for a misbegotten brat amongst them. Dost thou not see that\nthe huckster's son knows his own father? Thy grandfather is the\nVizier of Egypt, but as for thy father, we know him not, and we\nsay, thou hast no father. So return to thy senses.\" When Agib\nheard the insulting words of the children and the monitor, he\nwent out at once and ran to his mother, to complain to her; but\nhis tears would not let him speak awhile. When she heard his sobs\nand saw his tears, her heart was on fire for him and she said to\nhim, \"O my son, why dost thou weep? Tell me what is the matter.\"\nSo he told her what the children and the monitor had said and\nsaid to her, \"Who is my father, O my mother?\" \"Thy father is the\nVizier of Egypt,\" answered she; but he said, \"Do not lie to me.\nThe Vizier is thy father, not mine. Who then is my father? Except\nthou tell me the truth, I will kill myself with this dagger.\"\nWhen the Lady of Beauty heard him speak of his father, she wept,\nas she thought of her cousin and her bridal-night, and repeated\nthe following verses:\n\nLove in my breast, alas! they lit and went away; Far distant is\n     the camp that holds my soul's delight!\nPatience and reason fled from me, when they withdrew; Sleep\n     failed me, and despair o'ercame me like a blight.\nThey left me, and with them departed all my joy; Tranquility and\n     peace with them have taken flight.\nThey made my lids run down with tears of love laid waste; My eyes\n     for lack of them brim over day and night.\nWhen as my sad soul longs to see them once again And waiting and\n     desire are heavy on my spright;\nMidmost my heart of hearts their images I trace, Love and\n     desireful pain and longing for their sight.\nO ye, one thought of whom clings round me like a cloak, Whose\n     love it as a shirt about my body dight,\nO my beloved ones, how long will ye delay? How long must I endure\n     estrangement and despite?\n\nThen she wept and cried out and her son did the like, when in\ncame the Vizier, whose heart burned within him at the sight of\ntheir weeping, and he said, \"Why do ye weep?\" The Lady of Beauty\ntold him what had happened to Agib, and the Vizier also wept and\ncalled to mind his brother and all that had passed between them\nand what had befallen his daughter, and knew not the secret of\nthe matter. Then he rose at once and going to the Divan, related\nthe matter to the Sultan and begged his leave to travel eastward\nto the city of Bassora and enquire for his nephew. Moreover,\nhe besought him for letters-patent, authorizing him to take\nBedreddin, wherever he should find him. And he wept before the\nKing, who took pity on him and wrote him royal letters-patent to\nhis deputies in all his provinces; whereat the Vizier rejoiced\nand called down blessings on him. Then taking leave of him, he\nreturned to his house, where he equipped himself and his daughter\nand grandson for the journey, and set out and travelled till he\ncame to the city of Damascus and found it rich in trees and\nwaters, even as says the poet:\n\nI mind me a night and a day spent in Damascus town, (Time swore\n     'twould ne'er again their like to man outmete).\nWe lay in its languorous glades, where the careless calm of the\n     night And the morn, with its smiling eyes and its\n     twy-coloured tresses, meet.\nThe dew to its branches clings like a glittering chain of pearl,\n     Whose jewels the zephyr smites and scatters beneath his\n     feet.\nThe birds on the branches chant from the open book of the lake;\n     The breezes write on the scroll and the clouds mark the\n     points, as they fleet.\n\nThe Vizier alighted without the city and pitched his tents in an\nopen space called the Plain of Pebbles, saying to his servants,\n\"We will rest here two days.\" So they went down into the city\nupon their several occasions, this to sell, that to buy, another\nto go to the bath and a fourth to visit the Mosque of the\nOmmiades, whose like is not in the world. Agib also went into the\ncity to look about him, followed by an eunuch, carrying a knotted\ncudgel of almond-tree wood, wherewith if one smote a camel, it\nwould not rise again. When the people of the city saw Agib's\nbeauty and symmetry (for he was a marvel of loveliness and\nwinning grace, blander than the Northern zephyr,[FN#67] sweeter\nthan limpid water to the thirsty and more delightful than\nrecovery to the sick), a great concourse of folk followed him,\nwhilst others ran on before and sat down in the road, against he\nshould come up, that they might gaze on him, till, as Fate would\nhave it, the eunuch stopped before the shop of Bedreddin Hassan.\nNow the cook was dead and Bedreddin, having been formally adopted\nby him, had succeeded to his shop and property; and in the course\nof the twelve years that had passed over him, his beard had grown\nand his understanding ripened. When his son and the eunuch\nstopped before him, he had just finished preparing a mess of\npomegranate-seed, dressed with sugar; and when he looked at Agib\nand saw how beautiful he was, his heart throbbed, blood drew to\nblood and his bowels yearned to him. So he called to him and\nsaid, \"O my lord, O thou that hast gotten the mastery of my heart\nand my soul, thou to whom my bowels yearn, wilt thou not enter my\nshop and solace my heart by eating of my food?\" And the tears\nwelled up, uncalled, from his eyes, and he bethought him of his\nformer estate and compared it with his present condition. When\nAgib heard his words his heart yearned to him, and he said to the\neunuch, \"Indeed, my heart inclines to this cook, and meseems he\nhath lost a child, so let us enter and gladden his soul by\npartaking of his hospitality. Perhaps God may requite us our\nkindness to him by reuniting us with my father.\" \"By Allah!\"\nreplied the eunuch, \"it were a fine thing for a Vizier's son to\neat in a cookshop! Indeed, I keep off the folk with this stick,\nlest they look too closely on thee, and I dare not let thee enter\na shop.\" When Bedreddin heard these words, he wondered and turned\nto the eunuch, with the tears running down his cheeks, and Agib\nsaid to the latter, \"Indeed, my heart yearns for him.\" But he\nanswered, \"Leave this talk; indeed, thou shalt not go in.\" Then\nBedreddin turned to the eunuch and said, \"O noble sir, why wilt\nthou not gladden my soul by entering my shop? O thou who art as a\nchestnut, black without, but with a white heart,[FN#68] thou of\nwhom the poet says ...........\" The eunuch laughed and said,\n\"What? Say on, by Allah, and be quick about it.\" So Bedreddin\nrepeated the following verses:\n\nWere he not polished and discreet and worthy of all trust, He in\n     kings' houses would not be advanced to high estate.\nO what a guardian he is for a seraglio! The very angels of the\n     skies delight on him to wait.\n\nThis pleased the eunuch, who laughed and taking Agib by the hand,\nentered the shop with him. Bedreddin ladled out a dishful of\npomegranate-seed, conserved with almonds and sugar, and set it\nbefore them, saying, \"Ye do me honour. Eat and may health and\nenjoyment attend you!\" And Agib said to him, \"Sit down and eat\nwith us, so haply God may unite us with him for whom we long.\" \"O\nmy son,\" said Bedreddin, \"hast thou then suffered the loss of\nfriends, at thy tender age?\" \"Yes, O uncle!\" answered Agib, \"my\nheart irks me for the loss of a beloved one, who is none other\nthan my father; and indeed my grandfather and myself have come\nforth to seek for him throughout the world. Alas I how I sigh to\nbe united with him!\" Then he wept sore, whilst Bedreddin wept at\nthe sight of his tears and for his bereavement, which recalled to\nhim his own separation from those he loved and from his father\nand mother, and the eunuch was moved to pity for him. Then they\nate together till they were satisfied, and Agib and the eunuch\nrose and left the shop. At this, Bedreddin felt as if his soul\nhad departed his body and gone with them, for he could not live a\nmoment without their sight, albeit he knew not that Agib was his\nson. So he rose and shutting his shop, hastened after them and\novertook them before they went out at the great gate. The eunuch\nturned and said to him, \"What dost thou want?\" \"When you left\nme,\" replied Bedreddin, \"meseemed my soul had quitted my body,\nand as I had an occasion without the city, I thought to bear you\ncompany till I had done my business and so return.\" The eunuch\nwas vexed and said to Agib, \"This is what I feared. Because we\nentered this fellow's shop and ate that unlucky mouthful, he\nthinks he has a right to presume upon us, for see, he follows us\nfrom place to place.\" Agib turned and seeing the cook following\nhim, reddened for anger and said to the eunuch, \"Let him walk in\nthe high road of the Muslims; but if he follow us when we turn\naside to our tents, we will drive him away.\" Then he bowed his\nhead and walked on, with the eunuch behind him. When they came to\nthe Plain of Pebbles and drew near their tents, Agib turned\nand saw Bedreddin still following him; whereat he was enraged,\nfearing least the eunuch should tell his grandfather and vexed\nthat it should be said he had entered a cookshop and the cook had\nfollowed him. So he looked at Bedreddin and found his eyes fixed\non him, for he was as it were a body without a soul; and it\nseemed to Agib that his eye was that of a knave or a lewd fellow.\nSo his rage redoubled and he took up a stone and threw it at\nBedreddin. It struck him on the forehead and cut it open; and he\nfell down in a swoon, with the blood streaming down his face,\nwhilst Agib and the eunuch made for the tents. When he came to\nhimself, he wiped away the blood and tore off a piece of the\nmuslin of his turban, with which he bound his head, blaming\nhimself and saying, \"I wronged the lad in closing my shop and\nfollowing him, so that he thought I was some lewd fellow.\" Then\nhe returned to his shop, where he busied himself with the sale of\nhis meats; and he yearned after his mother at Bassora and wept\nover her and recited the following verses:\n\nIf thou demand fair play of Fate, therein thou dost it wrong; And\n     blame it not, for twas not made, indeed, for equity.\nTake what lies ready to thy hand and lay concern aside, For\n     troubled days and days of peace in life must surely be.\n\nMeanwhile, the Vizier, his uncle, tarried in Damascus three days,\nthen departed for Hems, and passing through that city, fared on\nby way of Hemah and Aleppo and thence through Diarbekir, Maridin\nand Mosul, making enquiries at every place he came to, till he\narrived at Bassora, where he halted and presented himself before\nthe Sultan, who received him with honour and consideration and\nasked the reason of his coming. The Vizier related to him\nhis history and told him that Noureddin Ali was his brother,\nwhereupon the Sultan commended the latter's soul to the mercy of\nGod and said, \"Sir, he was my Vizier for fifteen years, and I\nloved him greatly. Then he died, leaving a son, who abode here\nbut two months after his father's death; since which time he hath\ndisappeared and we have never come upon any news of him. But his\nmother, who was the daughter of my former Vizier, is still with\nus.\" Shemseddin rejoiced to hear that his nephew's mother was\nstill alive and said, \"O King, I wish to see her.\" The King at\nonce gave him leave to visit her; so he betook himself to his\nbrother Noureddin's house and went round about it and kissed its\nthreshold. And he bethought him of his brother and how he had\ndied in a strange land and wept and repeated the following\nverses:\n\nI wander through the halls, the halls where Leila lived, And kiss\n     the lifeless walls that of her passage tell.\nIt is not for the house that I with passion burn, But for the\n     cherished ones that erst therein did dwell.\n\nThen he entered the gate and found himself in a spacious\ncourtyard, at the end whereof was a door vaulted over with hard\nstone, inlaid with vari-coloured marbles. He walked round about\nthe house, and casting his eyes on the walls, saw the name of his\nbrother Noureddin written on them in letters of gold. So he went\nup to the inscription and kissed it and wept for his brother's\nloss and repeated the following verses:\n\nI sue unto the rising sun, each morn, for news of thee, And of\n     the lightning's lurid gleam I do for thee enquire.\nThe hands of passion and of pain sport with me all the night; Yet\n     I complain not of the ills I suffer from desire.\nO my beloved, if the times be yet for me prolonged, be all\n     consumed with separation's fire.\nLo! if thy sight one happy day should bless my longing eyes,\n     There is no other thing on earth that I of Fate require.\nThink not that other loves avail to solace me for thee; My heart\n     can hold no love but thine, my faith can never tire.\n\nThen he walked on till he came to the lodging of his brother's\nwidow. Now from the day of her son's disappearance, she had given\nherself up to weeping and lamentation day and night; and when the\nyears grew long upon her, she made him a tomb of marble midmost\nthe saloon and there wept for him day and night, sleeping not but\nthereby. When the Vizier drew near her apartment, he heard her\nweeping and repeating verses, so he went in to her and saluting\nher, informed her that he was her husband's brother and told her\nall that had passed between them, and how her son Bedreddin\nHassan had spent a whole night with his daughter, twelve years\nago, but had disappeared in the morning, and how she had\nconceived by him and borne a son, whom he had brought with him.\nWhen Bedreddin's mother heard this news of her son and grandson\nand that the former was haply still alive and saw her husband's\nbrother, she threw herself at his feet and kissed them, repeating\nthe following verses:\n\n\nMay God be good to him who brought me news that they were come;\n     For never more delightful news unto my ears were borne.\nIf he would take a worn-out weds for boon, I'd proffer him A\n     heart that at the parting hour was all to pieces torn.\n\nThen the Vizier sent for Agib; and his grandmother embraced him\nand wept, but Shemseddin said to her, \"This is no time for\nweeping; it behoves thee to make ready to go with us to Egypt;\nperhaps God will reunite us with thy son, my nephew.\" \"I hear and\nobey,\" answered she, and rising at once, collected her goods and\ntreasures and equipped herself and her handmaids for the journey,\nwhilst the Vizier went to take his leave of the Sultan of\nBassora, who sent by him gifts and rarities to the Sultan of\nEgypt. Then he set out at once on his homeward journey and\ntravelled till he came to Damascus, where he halted and pitched\nhis tents as before, saying to his suite, \"We will halt here a\nweek, to buy presents and curiosities for the Sultan.\" Now the\ntie of blood drew Agib to his father, so he said to the eunuch,\n\"O Laic, I have a mind to go a-walking; so come, let us go down\ninto the streets of Damascus and see what is become of the cook\nwhose victuals we ate and whose head we broke, for indeed he was\nkind to us and we used him scurvily.\" The eunuch replied, \"I hear\nand obey.\" So they left the tents and going down into the city,\nstayed not till they came to the cookshop, where they found\nBedreddin Hassan standing at the door. It was near the time of\nafternoon-prayer, and as chance would have it, he had just\nprepared a mess of pomegranate-seed. Agib looked at him and saw\nthe scar of the blow on his forehead; wherefore his heart yearned\nto him and he said, \"Peace be on thee! Know that my heart is with\nthee.\" When Bedreddin saw him, his bowels were troubled and his\nheart throbbed, and he bowed his head and would have spoken, but\ncould not. Then he raised his head and looked at his son humbly\nand imploringly and repeated the following verses:\n\nI longed to look on him I love; but when I saw his face, I was as\n     one amazed and lost the use of tongue and eyes.\nI bowed my head down to his feet for reverence and awe, And would\n     have hidden what I felt, but could it not disguise.\nVolumes of plaining and reproach I had within my heart; Yet, when\n     we met, no word I spoke nor uttered aught but sighs.\n\nThen he said to them, \"Heal my heart and eat of my food, for, by\nAllah, I cannot look at you but my heart throbs! I should not\nhave followed you the other day, but that I was beside myself.\"\n\"By Allah,\" replied Agib, \"thou art too fond of us! We ate\nwith thee before and thou madest us repent of it, in that thou\nfollowedst us and wouldst have put us to shame; so we will not\neat with thee, except thou swear not to go out after us nor\nfollow us. Else we will not visit thee again during our present\nstay, for we abide here a week, that my grandfather may take\npresents for the King.\" And Bedreddin said, \"I grant you this.\"\nSo Agib and the eunuch entered, and Bedreddin set before them a\ndish of pomegranate-seed. Quoth Agib, \"Sit down and eat with us,\nso haply God may grant us relief.\" At this Bedreddin was glad and\nsat down and ate with them, with his eyes fixed on Agib's face,\nfor indeed his heart and entrails were taken with his love, till\nthe boy said to him, \"What a tiresome dotard thou art! Leave thy\nstaring in my face.\" When Bedreddin heard this, he repeated the\nfollowing verses:\n\n\nThy face excites in all men's hearts a love they do not own;\n     Folded in silence and concealed, it may not be made known.\nO thou whose beauty puts to shame the splendour of the moon,\n     Whose grace recalls the shining sight of morning newly\n     blown,\nIn thy bright visage is a sign that may not be fulfilled, And\n     there all beauties that incite to tenderness are shown.\nMust I then die of thirst, what while thy lips with nectar flow?\n     Thy face is Paradise to me; must I in hell-fire groan?\n\nSo they ate till they were satisfied, when Bedreddin rose and\npoured water on their hands, wiping them with a napkin of silk,\nwhich he loosed from his waist; after which he sprinkled\nrose-water on them from a casting-bottle he had by him. Then he\nwent out and returned with a pitcher of sherbet, flavoured with\nrose-water and musk, which he set before them, saying, \"Complete\nyour favours to me, by drinking of this sherbet.\" So Agib took\nthe pitcher and drank and passed it to the eunuch, and it went\nround amongst them till their stomachs were full, for they had\neaten and drunken beyond their wont. Then they went away and\nmade haste in walking till they reached the tents, and Agib went\nin to his grandmother, who kissed him, and thinking of her son\nBedreddin Hassan, wept and repeated the following verses:\n\nBut for my hope that God would yet our severed loves unite, I had\n     not lived for life to me is void of all delight.\nI swear there's nothing in my heart but love of thee alone, By\n     God, who reads the heart and brings the hidden things to\n     light!\n\nAnd she said to Agib, \"O my son, where hast thou been?\" Quoth he,\n\"We have been in the city of Damascus. Then she rose and set\nbefore him confection of pomegranate-seed and said to the eunuch,\n\"Sit down and eat with thy young master.\" The eunuch said to\nhimself, \"By Allah, we have no mind to eat!\" but he sat down,\nand so did Agib, though his belly was full of what he had\nalready eaten and drunk. Now the conserve lacked sugar, so\nhe took a piece of bread and dipped it therein and ate, but\nfound it insipid, for that he was already surfeited, and\nexclaimed, \"Faugh! what is this nasty mess?\" \"O my son,\" said his\ngrandmother, \"dost thou find fault with my cookery? I cooked this\nmyself, and there is not a cook in the land can compare with me,\nexcept it be thy father Bedreddin Hassan.\" \"O my lady,\" replied\nAgib, \"this thy dish is naught; for we saw but now in the city a\ncook who dresses pomegranate-seed, so that the very smell of it\nopens the heart and the taste would give a full man an appetite;\nand as for thy mess, compared with his, it is worth neither much\nnor little.\" When his grandmother heard this, she was exceeding\nwroth and said to the eunuch, \"Out on thee, dost thou corrupt my\ngrandson and take him into cookshops?\" The eunuch was frightened\nand denied, saying, \"We did not enter the shop, but only saw it\nin passing.\" \"By Allah!\" said Agib, \"we went in and ate, and it\nwas better than thine.\" Then his grandmother rose and went and\ntold her brother-in-law, who was incensed against the eunuch and\nsending for him, said to him, \"Why didst thou take my son into a\ncookshop?\" \"We did not go in,\" replied the eunuch. But Agib said,\n\"We did go in and ate of pomegranate-seed, till we were full; and\nthe cook gave us to drink of iced sherbet of sugar.\" At this, the\nVizier's anger redoubled and he questioned the eunuch, but he\nstill denied. Then said the Vizier, \"If what thou sayest be true,\nsit down and eat before us.\" So he sat down and tried to eat, but\ncould not and threw away the morsel, saying, \"O my lord, indeed I\nam full since yesterday.\" By this, the Vizier knew that he had\neaten at the cook's and bade his slaves throw him down and beat\nhim. So they drubbed him, till he roared for mercy and said,\n\"O my lord, do not beat me, and I will tell thee the truth.\"\nWhereupon the Vizier stopped the beating and said, \"Speak the\ntruth.\" Quoth the eunuch, \"Know then that we did enter the shop\nof a cook, who was dressing pomegranate seed, and he set some of\nit before us; by Allah, I never ate the like of it in my life,\nnor did I ever taste aught nastier than that which is before us!\"\nBedreddin's mother was enraged at this and said to the eunuch,\n\"Thou must go back to the cook and fetch us a dish of his\npomegranate-seed and show it to thy master, that he may say which\nis the better, his or mine.\" \"Good,\" answered he. So she gave him\na dish and half a dinar, and he returned to the shop and said to\nBedreddin, \"We have made a wager about thy cookery in our lord's\nhousehold, for they have pomegranate-seed there also; so give me\nhalf a dinar's worth of thy confection and let it be of thy best,\nfor I have eaten my bellyful of stick on account of thy cookery.\"\nBedreddin laughed and answered, \"By Allah, none can dress this\ndish aright but myself and my mother, and she is far away.\" Then\nhe filled the dish with pomegranate-seed and finishing it off\nwith musk and rose-water, gave it to the eunuch, who hastened\nback with it and delivered it to Bedreddin's mother. No sooner\nhad she tasted it and remarked the excellence of its flavour and\ncookery, than she knew who had dressed it and shrieked and fell\ndown in a swoon, to the amazement of the Vizier, who sprinkled\nrose-water on her, till she came to herself and said, \"If my son\nbe yet of this world, none made this conserve but he! Without\ndoubt, this cook is my son Bedreddin Hassan, for none knew how to\ndress this dish but he and I, and I taught him.\" The Vizier\nrejoiced greatly at her words, and said, \"O how I long to see my\nbrother's son! I wonder if the days will indeed reunite us with\nhim! But it is to God alone that we look for reunion with him.\"\nThen he went out forthright and said to his men, \"Let twenty of\nyou go to the cook's shop and demolish it; then tie his hands\nbehind him with the linen of his turban, saying, 'It was thou\nmadest that vile mess of pomegranate-seed,' and bring him hither\nby force, but without doing him any hurt.\" And they replied, \"It\nis well.\" Then he mounted and riding to the palace, foregathered\nwith the Viceroy of Damascus and showed him the Sultan's\nletters-patent. He kissed them and laying them on his head, said to the\nVizier, \"Who is it hath offended against thee?\" Quoth the Vizier,\n\"He is a cook of this city.\" So the Viceroy at once despatched\nhis chamberlains to the shop and they went thither and found it\nin ruins and everything in it broken; for whilst the Vizier was\nat the palace, his men had done his bidding and carried Bedreddin\nto the tents, where they were then awaiting their master's\nreturn, whilst Bedreddin said, \"I wonder what they can have found\nin the pomegranate-seed to bring matters to this pass!\" When the\nVizier returned to the tents, after having gotten the Viceroy's\npermission to take his debtor and depart with him, he called for\nthe cook, and they brought Bedreddin before him, with his hands\nbound behind his back. When he saw his uncle, he wept sore and\nsaid, \"O my lord, what is my offence against thee?\" \"Art thou he\nwho made the mess of pomegranate-seed?\" asked Shemseddin. \"Yes,\"\nreplied Bedreddin; \"didst thou find aught in it to call for the\ncutting off of my head?\" Quoth the Vizier, \"That were the least\nof thy desert.\" \"O my lord,\" said Bedreddin, \"wilt thou not tell\nme my crime and what ails the pomegranate-seed?\" \"Presently,\"\nanswered the Vizier and called to his men, saying, \"Bring the\ncamels.\" So they struck camp and the Vizier caused Bedreddin to\nbe put into a chest, which they locked and set on a camel. Then\nthey departed and journeyed till nightfall, when they halted to\neat and took Bedreddin out of his chest and fed him and locked\nhim up again. Then they set out again and travelled till they\nreached Kumreh, where they took him out of the chest and brought\nhim before the Vizier, who said to him, \"Art thou he who made the\nmess of pomegranate-seed?\" \"Yes, O my lord,\" answered he; and\nShemseddin said, \"Shackle him.\" So they shackled him and returned\nhim to the chest and fared on again, till they arrived at Cairo\nand halted in the suburb of Er Reidaniyeh. Then the Vizier\ncommanded to take Bedreddin out of his chest and sent for a\ncarpenter, to whom he said, \"Make a cross[FN#69] of wood for this\nfellow.\" Quoth Bedreddin, \"What wilt thou do with it?\" \"I mean\nto nail thee upon it,\" replied the Vizier, \"and parade thee\nthroughout the city.\" \"And why wilt thou use me thus? asked\nBedreddin; and the Vizier answered, \"Because of thy villainous\nmess of pomegranate-seed and for that it lacked pepper.\" \"And\nbecause it lacked pepper,\" said Bedreddin, \"wilt thou do all this\nto me? Is it not enough that thou hast laid my shop in ruins and\nsmashed my gear and imprisoned me and fed me but once a day?\" \"It\nlacked pepper,\" answered the Vizier; \"and nothing less than death\nis thy desert.\" At this Bedreddin wondered and mourned for\nhimself, till the Vizier said to him, \"Of what art thou\nthinking?\" \"I was thinking of crack-brains like unto thee,\"\nanswered Bedreddin, \"for hadst thou any sense, thou wouldst not\ntreat me thus.\" Quoth the Vizier, \"It behoves me to punish thee,\nlest thou do the like again.\" And Bedreddin said, \"Verily, my\noffence were over-punished by the least of what thou hast already\ndone to me.\" \"It avails not,\" answered Shemseddin; \"I must\ncrucify thee.\" All this time the carpenter was shaping the cross,\nwhilst Bedreddin looked on; and thus they did till nightfall,\nwhen the Vizier took him and clapped him in the chest, saying,\n\"The thing shall be done tomorrow.\" Then he waited till he knew\nBedreddin to be asleep, when he mounted and taking the chest up\nbefore him, rode into the town to his own house, where he\nalighted and said to his daughter, the Lady of Beauty, \"Praised\nbe God who hath reunited thee with thy cousin! Arise and order\nthe house as it was on thy wedding-night.\" So the servants arose\nand lit the candles, whilst the Vizier took out his plan of the\nbride chamber and directed them what to do, till they had set\neverything in its place, so that whoever saw it would not doubt\nbut it was the very night of the wedding. Then he made them lay\nBedreddin's turban on the stool, where he had left it, and his\ntrousers and purse under the mattress, and bade his daughter\nundress herself and go to bed, as on the wedding-night, adding,\n\"When he comes in to thee, say to him, 'Thou has tarried long in\nthe wardrobe,' and call him to lie with thee and hold him in\nconverse till the morning, when we will explain the whole matter\nto him.\" Then he took Bedreddin out of the chest and laid him in\nthe vestibule, after he had unbound him and taken off his\nclothes, leaving him in a shirt of fine silk, and he still asleep\nand knowing nothing. Presently he turned over and awoke, and\nfinding himself in a lighted vestibule, said to himself, \"Surely,\nI am dreaming.\" Then he rose and opening the inner door, found\nhimself in the chamber, where he had passed his wedding-night,\nand knew the alcove and the stool by the bed-side, with his\nturban and clothes. When he saw this, he was confounded and\nadvanced one foot and drew the other back, saying, \"Am I asleep\nor awake?\" And he began to rub his forehead and say, wondering,\n\"By Allah, this is the chamber of the bride that was unveiled\nbefore me! But where can I be? I was surely but now in a chest.\"\nWhilst he was debating with himself, the Lady of Beauty lifted\nthe curtain of the alcove and said to him, \"O my lord, wilt thou\nnot come in? Thou hast tarried long in the wardrobe.\" When he\nheard what she said and saw her face, he laughed and said, \"This\nis certainly an imbroglio of dreams!\" Then he entered, sighing,\nand recalled what had happened and was perplexed, and his affair\nbecame confused to him and he knew not what to think. Presently,\nhe caught sight of his turban and trousers, so he handled the\nlatter and feeling the purse of a thousand dinars, said, \"God\nalone is all knowing! I am certainly in the mazes of a dream.\"\nThen said the Lady of Beauty to him, \"What ails thee to stand\nagape and seem perplexed? Thou wast not thus the first part of\nthe night.\" He laughed and said to her, \"How long have I been\nabsent from thee?\" \"God preserve thee!\" exclaimed she. \"The name\nof God encompass thee! Thou didst but go out an hour ago to do an\noccasion and return. Hast thou lost thy wits?\" When Bedreddin\nheard this, he laughed and said, \"Thou art right; but when I went\nout from thee, I forgot myself in the closet and dozed and dreamt\nthat I was a cook in Damascus and abode there twelve years and\nthat there came to me a boy, the son of some great man, and with\nhim an eunuch.\" Here he put his hand to his forehead and feeling\nthe scar made by the stone, said, \"By Allah, O lady, it must have\nbeen true, for here is the scar made by the stone, with which he\nsmote me and cut my forehead open. So it would seem as if it had\nreally happened. But perhaps I dreamt it, when we embraced and\nfell asleep together: for meseemed I journeyed to Damascus\nwithout turban or drawers and set up as a cook there.\" Then he\nwas perplexed and considered awhile and said, \"By Allah, I\nfancied also that I made a mess of pomegranate-seed and put too\nlittle pepper in it. By Allah, I must have slept in the closet\nand dreamt all this!\" \"God on thee,\" said the Lady of Beauty,\n\"tell me what else thou didst dream.\" \"By Allah,\" replied he,\n\"had I not woke up, they would have nailed me to a cross of\nwood!\" \"Wherefore?\" asked she; and he said, \"Because of the lack\nof pepper in the pomegranate-seed. Meseemed they demolished my\nshop and broke my utensils in pieces and put me in a chest;\nthen they sent for a carpenter to make a cross and would have\ncrucified me thereon. But praised be God who caused all this to\nhappen to me in sleep and not on wake!\" The Lady of Beauty\nlaughed and pressed him to her bosom, and he returned her\ncaresses; then he thought again and said, \"By Allah, I cannot\nhelp thinking it must have been a reality after all! Indeed I\nknow not what to think of it all.\" Then he lay down and passed\nthe night in a state of perplexity, saying now, \"I was dreaming,\"\nand now, \"I was awake,\" till the morning, when his uncle\nShemseddin entered and saluted him. When Bedreddin saw him, he\nsaid to him, \"By Allah, art thou not he who gave orders to bind\nme and demolish my shop and would have nailed me on a cross,\nand all because a mess of pomegranate-seed lacked pepper?\" \"O\nmy son,\" replied the Vizier, \"know that the truth has appeared\nand that which was hidden is divulged. Thou art my brother's\nson, and I did all this with thee but that I might certify\nmyself that thou wast indeed he who lay with my daughter on her\nwedding-night. I could not be sure of this, till I saw that thou\nknewest the chamber and thy turban and clothes and purse and the\nscrolls in thy handwriting and that of my brother, for I had\nnever seen thee and did not know thee; and I have brought thy\nmother with me from Bassora.\" So saying, he threw himself on him\nand they embraced and wept for excess of joy. Then said the\nVizier to Bedreddin, \"O my son, all this came of what passed\nbetween thy father and myself.\" And he told him what had taken\nplace between them and the manner of his father's flight to\nBassora; after which he sent for Agib, and when his father saw\nhim, he exclaimed, \"This is he who threw the stone at me!\" Quoth\nthe Vizier, \"This is thy son.\" And Bedreddin threw himself on\nAgib and repeated the following verses:\n\nLong time have I bewailed the sev'rance of our loves, With tears\n     that from my lids streamed down like burning rain,\nAnd vowed that, if the days should reunite us two, My lips should\n     never speak of severance again.\nJoy hath o'erwhelmed me so, that for the very stress Of that\n     which gladdens me, to weeping I am fain.\nTears are become to you a habit, O my eyes! So that ye weep as\n     well for gladness as for pain.\n\nPresently, Bedreddin's mother came in and fell on him, repeating\nthe following verses:\n\n\nWhen we met, to each other we both did complain Of the manifold\n     things that we each had to say;\nFor the lover's complaint of the anguish he feels The tongue of a\n     messenger cannot convey.\n\nThen she wept and related to him what had befallen her since his\ndeparture, and he told her what he had suffered and they thanked\nGod the Most High for their reunion with one another. Two days\nafter his arrival, the Vizier went in to the Sultan and kissing\nthe earth before him, saluted him after the fashion of salutation\nto kings. The Sultan rejoiced at his return and received him with\ndistinguished favour. Then he desired to hear what had befallen\nhim in his travels; so the Vizier told him all that had passed,\nand the Sultan said, \"Praised be God for that thou hast attained\nthy desire and returned in safety to thy kinsfolk and family! I\nmust see thy brother's son, so do thou bring him to the Divan\ntomorrow.\" Shemseddin replied, \"God willing, thy slave shall be\npresent tomorrow.\" Then he saluted him and returning to his own\nhouse, informed his nephew of the King's wish to see him, to\nwhich Bedreddin replied, \"The slave is obedient to his lord's\ncommands.\" So next day he accompanied his uncle to the Divan and\nafter saluting the Sultan in the most punctilious and elegant\nmanner, repeated the following verses:\n\nAll ranks and classes kiss the earth, in homage to thy state, For\n     lo I through thee their every wish is crowned with happy\n     fate.\nFor thou the fount of honour art for those that hope in thee, And\n     from thy hand the bounties flow that make there rich and\n     great.\n\nThe Sultan smiled and signed to him to sit down. So he sat down\nbeside the Vizier, and the King enquired his name. Quoth\nBedreddin, \"The meanest of thy slaves is known as Bedreddin\nHassan of Bassora, who prays for thee day and night.\" The Sultan\nwas pleased at his words and being minded to try him and prove\nhis knowledge and good-breeding, said to him, \"Dost thou remember\nany verses in praise of a mole on the cheek?\" \"Yes,\" replied\nBedreddin, and repeated the following:\n\nWhen I think of my loved one, the sighs from my breast Burst up\n     and the tears to my eyes quickly start.\nShe's a mole, that resembles, in beauty and hue, The black of the\n     eye and the core of the heart.\n\nThe Sultan liked these verses and said, \"Let us have some more.\nHeaven bless thy sire! May thy tongue never tire!\" So he repeated\nthe following:\n\nThe mole's black spot upon her cheek they liken to a grain Of\n     musk; yet wonder not at that, for wonder were in vain.\nBut rather wonder at her face, wherein all beauty is: There is no\n     particle of grace that it doth not contain.\n\nThe Sultan shook with delight and said to him, \"More! God bless\nthy life!\" So he repeated the following:\n\nO thou, the moles upon whose cheek recall Globules of musk upon\n     cornelian strewed,\nGrant me thy favours, be not hard of heart, O thou, my heart's\n     desire, my spirit's food!\n\nThen said the King, \"Thou hast done well, O Hassan, and hast\nacquitted thyself most excellently. But tell me how many meanings\nhath the word khal[FN#70] in the Arabic language.\" \"Fifty,\"\nreplied Hassan, \"and some say eight and-fifty.\" Quoth the King,\n\"Thou art right. Canst thou tell me the points of excellence in\nbeauty?\" \"Yes,\" answered Bedreddin, \"Brightness of face, purity\nof skin, shapeliness in the nose, softness in the eyes, sweetness\nin the mouth, elegance in speech, slenderness of shape and\nquickness of wit; and the perfection of beauty is in the hair.\nAnd indeed Es Shihab el Hijazi has brought them all together in\nthe following doggrel:\n\nSay to the face, 'Be bright,' and to the skin, say, 'See, I show\n     thee what befits thee best: 'tis purity.'\nFor elegance of shape the nose we chiefly prize, And languor soft\n     it is, that best becomes the eyes.\nThen say unto the mouth, 'Sweetness, but mark thou me; Let\n     fragrancy of breath fail never unto thee.'\nChaste be the speech, the shape be slender and well knit, And\n     quickness mark the thought, the manners and the wit.\nThen say that in the hair is ever beauty's prime. Give ear to me\n     and eke forgive my doggrel rhyme.\"\n\nThe Sultan rejoiced in his converse and said to him \"What is the\nmeaning of the popular saying, 'Shureih is more cunning than the\nfox'?\" \"Know, O King,\" answered Bedreddin, \"may God aid thee!\nthat Shureih[FN#71] was wont during the days of the plague, to go\nout to Nejef, and whenever he stood up to pray, there came a fox,\nwhich would plant itself over against him and distract him from\nhis devotions by mimicking his movements. This went on for some\ntime, till the man became weary of it; so one day he took off his\nshirt and put it on a cane and shook out the sleeves. Then he set\nhis turban on top of the cane and tied a girdle round the middle\nof the effigy and planted it in the place where he used to say\nhis prayers. Presently up came the fox, according to his wont,\nand stood over against the figure; whereupon Shureih came behind\nhim and took him: hence the saying.\" When the Sultan heard\nBedreddin's explanation, he said to his uncle Shemseddin,\n\"Verily, this thy nephew is perfect in all kinds of culture. I do\nnot believe that his like is to be found in Egypt.\" At this,\nBedreddin arose and kissed the earth and sat down again in the\nposture of a servant before his master. When the Sultan had\nthus assured himself of his proficiency in the liberal arts,\nhe rejoiced greatly and bestowing on him a splendid dress of\nhonour, invested him with an office, whereby he might better his\ncondition. Then Bedreddin arose and kissing the earth before the\nKing, wished him enduring glory and craved leave to retire. The\nSultan gave him leave; so he returned home with his uncle and\nthey set food before them and they ate, after which Bedreddin\nrepaired to his wife's apartment and told her what had passed\nbetween the Sultan and himself. Quoth she, \"He cannot fail to\nmake thee his boon-companion and load thee with favours and\npresents; and by the grace of God, the splendours of thy\nperfections shall shine like the greater light,[FN#72] wherever\nthou goest, by land or sea.\" Then said he, \"I purpose to make an\node in the King's praise, that he may redouble in affection for\nme.\" \"That is well thought,\" replied she. \"Consider it well and\nword thy thought elegantly, and I doubt not but it will procure\nthee his favour.\" So Bedreddin shut himself up and composed the\nfollowing verses, which he copied in an ornamental hand:\n\nMy King hath reached the height of lordlihead; The shining path\n     of virtue he cloth tread.\nHis justice blocks the ways against his foes And peace and plenty\n     showers on every stead.\nBold as a lion, pious, quick of wit, Angel or King,[FN#73] he's\n     whichsoe'er is said.\nHe sends the suppliant content away. Words fail, indeed, to paint\n     his goodlihead.\nIn time of gifts, he's like the brilliant moon; Like night, in\n     battle, lowering and dread.\nOur necks are girt with his munificence; He rules by favours on\n     the noble shed.\nMay God prolong his life for our behoof And ward the blows of\n     Fortune from his head.\n\nWhen he had finished transcribing the poem, he despatched it by\none of his uncle's slaves to the King, who perused it, and it\ngladdened his heart; so he read it out to those present before\nhim and they praised it exceedingly. Then he sent for Bedreddin\nto his sitting-chamber and said to him, \"Henceforth thou art my\nboon-companion and I appoint thee a stipend of a thousand\ndirhems a month, over and above what I have already given thee.\"\nSo he arose and kissing the earth three times before the Sultan,\nwished him abiding glory and length of life. Then Bedreddin\nincreased in honour and estate, so that his report spread into\nall countries, and he abode in the enjoyment of all the delights\nand comforts of life, he and his uncle and family, till Death\novertook him.'\n\nWhen the Khalif Haroun er Reshid heard this story from the mouth\nof his Vizier Jaafer, he wondered and said, 'It behoves that\nthese stories be written in letters of gold.' Then he set the\nslave at liberty and assigned the young man who had killed his\nwife such a monthly allowance as sufficed to make his life easy.\nMoreover he gave him one of his female slaves to wife, and he\nbecame one of his boon-companions.\n\n\n\n\n\n                     STORY OF THE HUNCHBACK\n\n\n\nThere lived once in the city of Bassora a tailor, who was\nopenhanded and loved pleasure and merrymaking: and he was wont,\nhe and his wife, to go out by times, a-pleasuring, to the\npublic places of recreation. One day they went out as usual and\nwere returning home in the evening, when they fell in with a\nhunchback, the sight of whom would make the disappointed laugh\nand dispel chagrin from the sorrowful. So they went up to look at\nhim and invited him to go home and make merry with them that\nnight. He consented and accompanied them to their house;\nwhereupon, the night being now come, the tailor went out to the\nmarket and buying fried fish and bread and lemon and conserve of\nroses by way of dessert, set them before the hunchback, and they\nate. Presently, the tailor's wife took a great piece of fish and\ncramming it into the hunchback's mouth, clapped her hand over it,\nsaying, 'By Allah, thou must swallow it at one gulp; and I will\ngive thee no time to chew it.' So he bolted it; but there was a\ngreat bone in it, which stuck in his gullet, and his hour being\ncome, it choked him, and he died at once. When the tailor saw\nthis, he exclaimed, 'There is no power and no virtue but in God!\nAlas, poor wretch, that he should have come by his death at our\nhands!' 'Why dost thou waste time in idle lamentation?' rejoined\nhis wife. 'Hast thou not heard it said......?' And she repeated\nthe following verses:\n\nWhat ails me that I waste the time in idle grief, Until I find no\n     friend mishap for me to bear?\nWho but a fool would sit upon an unquenched fire? To wait upon\n     mischance as great a folly were.\n\n'What is to be done?' asked he; and she replied, 'Rise and take\nthe hunchback in thine arms and cover him with a silk handkerchief:\nthen go out with him, and I will go before thee: and if thou meet\nany one, say, \"This is my son: his mother and I are taking him\nto the doctor, that he may look at him.\" So he rose and taking\nthe hunchback in his arms, carried him along the streets, preceded\nby his wife, who kept saying, 'O my son, God keep thee! Where has\nthis smallpox attacked thee and in what part dost thou feel pain?'\nSo that all who saw them said, 'It is a child ill of smallpox.'\nThey went along, enquiring for a doctor, till the people directed\nthem to the house of one, who was a Jew. They knocked at the gate,\nand a black servant-maid came down and opened the door and seeing\na man carrying a child and a woman with him, said to them, 'What\nis your business?' 'We have a sick child here,' answered the\ntailor's wife, 'whom we want the doctor to look at: so take\nthis quarter-dinar and give it to thy master, and let him come\ndown and see my son.' The girl went up to tell her master,\nleaving the tailor and his wife in the vestibule, whereupon\nthe latter said to her husband, 'Let us leave the hunchback\nhere and be off.' So the tailor carried the dead man to the\ntop of the stairs and propping him up against the wall, went\naway, he and his wife. Meanwhile the serving-maid went in to the\nJew and said to him, 'There are a man and a woman at the gate,\nwith a sick child; and they have given me a quarter-dinar for\nthee, that thou mayst go down and see the child and prescribe for\nhim.' When the Jew saw the quarter-dinar, he was glad and rose\nhastily and went down in the dark. Hardly had he made a step,\nwhen he stumbled on the dead body and threw it down, and it\nrolled to the bottom of the stairs. So he cried out to the girl\nto make haste with the light, and she brought it, whereupon he\nwent down and examining the hunchback, found that he was dead. 'O\nEsdras and Moses and the ten Commandments!' exclaimed he; 'O\nAaron and Joshua, son of Nun! I have stumbled against the sick\nperson and he has fallen downstairs and is dead! How shall I get\nthe body out of my house?' Then he took it up and carrying it\ninto the house, told his wife what had happened. Quoth she, 'Why\ndost thou sit still? If he be found here when the day rises, we\nshall both of us lose our lives. Let us carry him up to the roof\nand throw him over into the house of our neighbour the Muslim;\nfor if he abide there a night, the dogs will come down on him\nfrom the terraces and eat him all up.' Now the neighbour in\nquestion was controller of the Sultan's kitchen and was wont to\nbring home great store of fat and broken meats; but the cats and\nmice used to eat it, or, if the dogs scented a fat sheep's tail,\nthey would come down from the roofs and tear at it; and in this\nway he lost much of what he brought home. So the Jew and his wife\ncarried the hunchback up to the roof, and letting him down,\nthrough the windshaft, into the controller's house, stood him up\nagainst the wall and went away. Hardly had they done so, when the\ncontroller, who had been spending the evening with some of his\nfriends, hearing a recitation of the Koran, came home and going\nup with a lighted candle, found a man standing in the corner,\nunder the ventilator. When he saw this, he said, 'By Allah, this\nis a fine thing! He who steals my goods is none other than a\nman.' Then he turned to the hunchback and said to him, 'So it is\nthou that stealest the meat and fat. I thought it was the cats\nand dogs, and I kill the cats and dogs of the quarter and sin\nagainst them. And all the while it is thou comest down through\nthe windshaft! But I will take my wreak of thee with my own\nhand.' So he took-a great cudgel and smote him on the breast, and\nhe fell down. Then he examined him and finding that he was dead,\ncried out in horror, thinking that he had killed him, and said,\n'There is no power and no virtue but in God the Supreme, the\nOmnipotent!' And he feared for himself and said, 'May God curse\nthe fat and the sheep's tails, that have caused this man's death\nto be at my hand!' Then he looked at the dead man and seeing him\nto be humpbacked, said, 'Did it not suffice thee to be a\nhunchback, but thou must turn thief and steal meat and fat? O\nProtector, extend to me Thy gracious protection!' Then he took\nhim up on his shoulders and going forth with him, carried him to\nthe beginning of the market, where he set him on his feet against\nthe wall of a shop, at the corner of a dark lane, and went away.\nAfter awhile, there came up a Christian, the Sultan's broker, who\nhad sallied forth, in a state of intoxication, intending for the\nbath, for in his drunkenness he thought that matins were near.\nHe came staggering along, till he drew near the hunchback and\nsquatted down over against him to make water, when, happening to\nlook round, he saw a man standing against the wall. Now some one\nhad snatched off the broker's turban early in the night, and\nseeing the hunchback standing there he concluded that he meant\nto play him the same trick. So he clenched his fist and smote him\non the neck. Down fell the hunchback, whilst the broker called to\nthe watchman of the market and fell on the dead man, pummelling\nand throttling him in the excess of his drunken rage. Presently,\nthe watchman came up and finding a Christian kneeling on a Muslim\nand beating him, said to the former, 'What is the matter?' 'This\nfellow tried to snatch off my turban,' answered the broker;\nand the watchman said, 'Get up from him.' So he rose, and\nthe watchman went up to the hunchback and finding him dead,\nexclaimed, 'By Allah, it is a fine thing that a Christian should\nkill a Muslim!' Then he seized the broker and tying his hands\nbehind him, carried him to the house of the prefect of police,\nwhere they passed the night; and all the while the broker kept\nsaying, 'O Messiah! O Virgin! how came I to kill this man?\nIndeed, he must have been in a great hurry to die of one blow\nwith the fist!' And his drunkenness left him and reflection came\nin its stead. As soon as it was day, the prefect came out and\ncommanded to hang the supposed murderer and bade the executioner\nmake proclamation of the sentence. So they set up a gallows,\nunder which they made the broker stand, and the hangman put the\nrope round his neck and was about to hoist him up, when behold,\nthe controller of the Sultan's kitchen, passing by, saw the\nbroker about to be hanged, and pressing through the crowd, cried\nout to the executioner, saying, 'Stop! Stop! I am he who killed\nthe hunchback.' Quoth the prefect, 'What made thee kill him?' And\nhe replied, 'I came home last night and found this man who had\ncome down the windshaft to steal my goods; so I struck him with a\ncudgel on the breast and he died. Then I took him up and carried\nhim to the market and set him up against the wall in such a\nplace. Is it not enough for me to have killed a Muslim, without\nburdening my conscience with the death of a Christian also? Hang\ntherefore none but me.' When the prefect heard this, he released\nthe broker and said to the executioner, 'Hang up this man on his\nown confession.' So he loosed the rope from the broker's neck and\nthrew it round that of the controller, and placing him under the\ngallows, was about to hang him, when behold, the Jewish physician\npushed through the press and cried out, 'Stop! It was I and none\nelse who killed him! I was sitting at home last night, when a man\nand a woman knocked at the door, carrying this hunchback, who was\nsick, and gave my servant a quarter-dinar, bidding her give it to\nme and tell me to come down to see him. Whilst she was gone, they\nbrought the hunchback into the house and setting him on the\nstairs, went away. Presently, I came down and not seeing him,\nstumbled on him in the dark, and he fell to the foot of the stair\nand died forthright. Then we took him up, I and my wife, and\ncarried him on to the roof, whence we let him down, through the\nwindshaft, into the house of this controller, which adjoins my\nown. When he came home and found the hunchback, he took him for a\nrobber and beat him, so that he fell to the ground, and he\nconcluded that he had killed him. So is it not enough for me to\nhave killed one Muslim unwittingly, without burdening myself with\nthe death of another wittingly?' When the prefect heard the Jew's\nstory, he said to the hangman, 'Let the controller go, and hang\nthe Jew.' So the hangman took the Jew and put the rope round his\nneck, when behold, the tailor pressed through the folk and cried\nout to him, 'Hold thy hand! None killed him save I, and it fell\nout thus. I had been out a-pleasuring yesterday and coming back\nin the evening, met this hunchback, who was drunk and singing\nlustily to a tambourine. So I carried him to my house and bought\nfish, and we sat down to eat. Presently, my wife took a piece of\nfish and crammed it down the hunchback's throat; but it went the\nwrong way and stuck in his gullet and choked him, so that he died\nat once. So we lifted him up, I and my wife, and carried him to\nthe Jew's house, where the girl came down and opened the door to\nus, and I said to her, \"Give thy master this quarter-dinar and\ntell him that there are a man and a woman at the door, who have\nbrought a sick person for him to see.\" So she went in to tell her\nmaster, and whilst she was gone, I carried the hunchback to the\ntop of the stair, where I propped him up, and went away with my\nwife. When the Jew came out, he stumbled over him and thought\nthat he had killed him.' Then he said to the Jew, 'Is not this\nthe truth?' 'It is,' replied the Jew. And the tailor turned to\nthe prefect and said, 'Let the Jew go, and hang me.' When the\nprefect heard the tailor's story, he wondered at the adventure of\nthe hunchback and exclaimed, 'Verily, this is a matter that\nshould be recorded in books!' Then he said to the hangman, 'Let\nthe Jew go, and hang the tailor on his own confession.' So the\nhangman took the tailor and put the rope round his neck, saying,\n'I am tired of taking this man and loosing that, and no one\nhanged after all.'\n\nNow the hunchback in question was the favourite buffoon of the\nSultan, who could not bear him out of his sight: so when he got\ndrunk and did not make his appearance that night or next day, the\nSultan asked the courtiers about him and they replied, 'O our\nlord, the chief of the police has come upon him dead and ordered\nhis murderer to be hanged: but, as the hangman was about to\nhoist him up, there came a second and a third and a fourth,\neach declaring himself to be the sole murderer and giving the\nprefect an account of the manner in which the crime had been\ncommitted.' When the King heard this, he cried out to one of his\nchamberlains, saying, 'Go down to the chief of the police and\nbring me all four of them.' So the chamberlain went down at once\nto the place of execution, where he found the hangman on the\npoint of hanging the tailor and cried out to him to stop. Then he\ngave the King's order to the prefect, who took the tailor, the\nphysician, the controller and the broker, and brought them all,\ntogether with the dead hunchback, before the King. When he came\ninto the presence, he kissed the earth and told the King all that\nhad passed; whereat he was moved to wonder and mirth and\ncommended the story to be written in letters of gold, saying to\nthe courtiers, 'Did you ever hear a more wonderful story than\nthat of this hunchback?' With this came forward the Christian\nbroker and said, 'O King of the age, with thy leave, I will tell\nthee a thing that happened to myself and which is still stranger\nand more wonderful and pleasant than the story of the hunchback.'\nQuoth the King, 'Let us hear it.' Then said the broker, 'O King\nof the age, I came to this city with merchandise, and Fate made\nme settle here with you, but\n\n\n\n\n                 The Christian Broker's Story.\n\n\n\nI am by birth a Copt, and a native of Cairo, where I was brought\nup. My father was a broker, and when I came to man's estate, he\ndied and I became a broker in his stead. One day, as I was\nsitting in my shop, there came up to me a young man as handsome\nas could be, richly clad and riding on an ass. When he saw me, he\nsaluted me, and I rose to do him honour. Then he pulled out a\nhandkerchief, containing a sample of sesame, and said to me,\n\"What is the worth of an ardebb[FN#74] of this?\" \"A hundred\ndirhems,\" replied I; and he said, \"Take porters and measures and\ncome to-morrow to the Khan of El Jaweli, by the Gate of Victory,\nwhere thou wilt find me.\" Then he went away, leaving with me the\nhandkerchief containing the sample of sesame; and I went round to\nthe buyers and agreed for a hundred and twenty dirhems an ardebb.\nNext day, I took four gaugers and carried them to the Khan, where\nI found him awaiting me. As soon as he saw me, he rose and opened\nhis magazines, and we measured the contents and found them fifty\nardebbs of sesame, making five thousand dirhems. Then said he to\nme, \"Thou shalt have ten dirhems an ardebb to thy brokerage; so\ntake the price and lay by four thousand five hundred dirhems for\nme; and when I have made an end of selling my other goods, I will\ncome to thee and take the amount.\" \"It is well,\" replied I, and\nkissed his hand and went away, having made that day a profit of a\nthousand dirhems, besides the brokerage. I saw no more of him for\na month, at the end of which time he came to me and said, \"Where\nis the money?\" I rose and saluted him and said to him, \"Wilt thou\nnot eat somewhat with me?\" But he refused, saying, \"Get the money\nready, and I will come back for it.\" So I brought out the money\nand sat down to await his return, but saw no more of him for\nanother month, at the end of which time he came to me and said,\n\"Where is the money?\" I rose and saluted him and said, \"Wilt thou\nnot eat a morsel with me?\" But he refused, saying, \"Have the\nmoney ready against my return,\" and rode away. So I fetched the\ndirhems and sat awaiting him; but he did not come near me for\nanother month, and I said, \"Verily, this young man is the\nincarnation of liberality.\" At the end of the month, he came up,\nriding on a mule and clad in sumptuous raiment. His face shone\nlike the moon at its full and he seemed as if he had just come\nfrom the bath, with his rosy cheeks and flower-white forehead and\nmole like a grain of ambergris, even as says the poet:\n\nWithin one mansion of the sky the sun and moon combine; With all\n     fair fortune and delight of goodliness they shine.\nTheir beauty stirs all those that see to passion and to love:\n     Good luck to them, for that they move to ravishment divine!\nIn grace and beauty they increase and aye more perfect grow: All\n     souls yearn out to them for love, all hearts to them\n     incline.\nBlessed be God, whose creatures are so full of wonderment!\n     Whate'er He wills He fashions forth, even as He doth design.\n\nWhen I saw him, I rose and saluted him and kissed his hand,\nsaying, \"O my lord, wilt thou not take thy money?\" \"What hurry is\nthere?\" replied he; \"wait till I have made an end of my business,\nwhen I will come and take it.\" Then he went away, and I said to\nmyself, \"By Allah, when he comes next time, I must press him to\neat with me,\" for I had traded with his money and profited\nlargely by it. At the end of the year he came again, dressed even\nmore richly than before, and I conjured him to dismount and eat\nof my victual; and he said to me, \"I consent, on condition that\nwhat thou expendest on me shall be of my money in thy hands.\" \"So\nbe it,\" replied I, and made him sit down, whilst I made ready\nwhat was needful of meat and drink and so forth and set the tray\nbefore him, saying, \"In the name of God.\" So he came to the table\nand put out his left hand and ate with me; and I wondered at his\nusing his left hand.[FN#75] When we had done eating, I poured\nwater on his hand and gave him wherewith to wipe it. Then we sat\ntalking, after I had set sweetmeats before him, and I said to\nhim, \"O my lord, I prithee relieve my mind by telling me why thou\neatest with thy left hand. Belike something ails thy right hand?\"\nWhen he heard my words, he recited the following verses:\n\nAsk not, I prithee, my friend, of the anguish that burns in my\n     heart 'Twould but the infirmities show that now in my bosom\n     lie hid.\nIf with Selma I company now and harbour with Leila no more,\n     Believe me, 'tis none of my will; needs must, if necessity\n     bid.\n\nThen he drew his right arm out from his sleeve, and behold, it\nwas a stump without a hand, the latter having been cut off at the\nwrist. I was astonished at this, and he said to me, \"Thou seest\nthat my eating with the left hand arose, not from conceit, but\nfrom necessity; and there hangs a strange story by the cutting\noff of my right hand.\" \"And how came it to be cut off?\" asked I.\n\"Know,\" answered he, \"that I am a native of Baghdad and the son\nof one of the principal men of that city. When I came to man's\nestate, I heard the pilgrims and travellers and merchants talk of\nthe land of Egypt, and this abode in my thought till my father\ndied, when I laid out a large sum of money in the purchase of\nstuffs of Baghdad and Mosul, with which I set out on my travels\nand God decreed me safety, till I reached this your city.\" And he\nwept and recited the following verses:\n\nIt chances oft that the blind man escapes a pit, Whilst he that\nis clear of sight falls into it:\nThe ignorant man can speak with impunity A word that is death to\nthe wise and the ripe of wit:\nThe true believer is pinched for his daily bread, Whilst infidel\nrogues enjoy all benefit.\nWhat is a man's resource and what shall he do? It is the\nAlmighty's will: we must submit.\n\n\"So I entered Cairo,\" continued he, \"and put up at the Khan of\nMesrour, where I unpacked my goods and stored them in the\nmagazines. Then I gave the servant money to buy me something to\neat and lay down to sleep awhile. When I awoke, I went to the\nstreet called Bein el Kesrein[FN#76] and presently returned and\npassed the night at the Khan. Next morning, I said to myself, 'I\nwill walk through the bazaars and see the state of the market.'\nSo I opened a bale and took out certain stuffs, which I gave to\none of my servants to carry, then repaired to the Bazaar of\nJergis, where I was accosted by the brokers, who had heard of my\narrival. They took my stuffs and cried them for sale, but could\nnot get the prime cost of them. I was vexed at this; but the\nchief of the brokers said to me, 'O my lord, I will tell thee\nhow thou mayst make a profit of thy goods. Thou shouldst do\nas the other merchants do and sell thy goods on credit, for a\nfixed period, on a contract drawn up by a scrivener, and duly\nwitnessed, and employ a money-changer and take thy money every\nMonday and Thursday. So shalt thou profit two dirhems for every\none; and besides this, thou canst amuse thyself meanwhile at\nleisure in viewing Cairo and the Nile.' Quoth I, 'This advice is\ngood,' and carried the brokers to the Khan. They took my stuffs\nand transported them to the bazaar, where I sold them to various\nmerchants, taking their bonds for the value. These bonds I\ndeposited with a money-changer, who gave me an acknowledgment in\nwriting, with which I returned to my Khan. Here I abode a month,\nbreaking my fast with a cup of wine every morning and sending out\nfor mutton and sweetmeats, till the time came when my receipts\nbegan to fall due. So, every Monday and Thursday, I used to\nrepair to the bazaar and sit in the shop of one or other of the\nmerchants, whilst the scrivener and money-changer went round to\ncollect the money from the different merchants, till after the\ntime of afternoon-prayer, when they brought me the amount, and I\ncounted it and gave receipts for it, then took it and returned to\nmy Khan. One day I went to the bath and retured to the Khan,\nwhere I broke my fast on a cup of wine, after which I slept a\nlittle. When I awoke, I ate a fowl, and scenting myself, repaired\nto the shop of a merchant called Bedreddin el Bustani, who\nwelcomed me; and I sat talking with him till the market should\nopen. Presently, there came up a lady of stately figure, wearing\na magnificent head-dress and exhaling perfumes, as she walked\nalong with a swimming gait. She stopped before Bedreddin and\nsaluted him, raising her kerchief and showing a pair of large\nblack eyes. He returned her salute and stood talking with her;\nand when I heard her speech, the love of her got hold upon my\nheart. Then she said to Bedreddin, 'Hast thou any stuffs of\nfigured cloth of gold?' So he brought out to her a piece that he\nhad had of me and she bought it of him for twelve hundred\ndirhems, saying, 'I will take it with me and send thee the\nprice.' 'It may not be, O my lady,' answered he. 'This is the\nowner of the stuff and I owe him the price of it.' 'Out on thee!'\nsaid she. 'Do I not use to take great store of costly stuffs of\nthee, at a greater profit than thou askest, and send thee the\nmoney?' 'Yes,' rejoined he; 'but I am in pressing need of the\nprice to-day.' With this she took the piece of stuff and threw it\nback into his lap, saying, 'You merchants have no respect for any\none!' Then she turned to go, and I felt as if my soul went with\nher; so I rose and stopped her, saying, 'O my lady, favour me by\nretracing thy gracious steps!' She smiled and saying, 'For thy\nsake, I will return,' came back and sat down in the shop opposite\nme. Then I said to Bedreddin, 'What is the price set upon this\npiece?' And he replied, 'Eleven hundred dirhems.' 'The other\nhundred shall be thy profit,' rejoined I. 'Give me a piece of\npaper and I will write thee a discharge for it! So I wrote him a\ndocket to that effect and gave the piece of stuff to the lady,\nsaying, 'Take it and, if thou wilt, bring me the price next\nmarket-day; or, better still, accept it as a gift from me to\nthee.' 'May God requite thee with good,' answered she, 'and make\nthee my husband and master of my property!'[FN#77] (And God heard\nher prayer.) 'O my lady,' replied I, 'this piece of stuff is\nthine and another like it, if thou wilt but let me see thy face.'\nSo she lifted her veil, and I took one look at her face, that\ncaused me a thousand regrets, and fell so violently in love with\nher, that I was no longer master of my reason. Then she let down\nher veil and taking the piece of stuff, said, 'O my lord, leave\nme not desolate!'[FN#78] and went away, whilst I remained sitting\nin the shop till the time of afternoon-prayer was past, lost to\nthe world and fairly distraught for love; and the violence of my\npassion prompted me to make enquiries about her of the merchant,\nwho replied, 'She is a lady of wealth, the daughter of an Amir,\nwho died and left her a large fortune.' Then I took leave of him\nand returned to the Khan, where they set the evening meal before\nme; but I could not eat, for thinking of her, and laid down to\nrest. But sleep came not to me and I lay awake till daylight,\nwhen I rose and changed my dress. I broke my fast on a cup of\nwine and a morsel of bread and going to the market, saluted\nBedreddin and sat down by him in his shop. Presently up came the\nlady, followed by a slave-girl, and more richly dressed than\nbefore, and saluting me, instead of Bedreddin, said to me, in a\nvoice than which I never heard a sweeter or softer, 'Send with me\nsome one to take the twelve hundred dirhems, the price of the\nstuff.' 'What hurry is there?' asked I. And she said, 'May we\nnever lose thee!' And gave me the money. Then I sat talking with\nher, and presently I made signs to her, by which she understood\nthat I desired to  enjoy her and rose hastily, as if vexed with\nme, and went away. My heart clung to her and I rose and followed\nin her track; but as I went along, a slave-girl accosted me,\nsaying. 'O my lord, my mistress would speak with thee.' At this I\nwas astonished, and said, 'There is no one who knows me here.' 'O\nmy lord,' answered the slave, 'how quickly thou hast forgotten\nher! My mistress is she who was to-day at the shop of the\nmerchant Bedreddin.' So I followed her to the money-changer's,\nwhere I found the lady, who drew me to her side and said to me,\n'O my beloved, thou hast made prize of my heart, and love of thee\nhas conquered my soul. Since the day I saw thee first, I have\ntaken no delight in sleep nor in meat nor drink.' 'My sufferings\nhave been still greater than thine,' answered I; 'and my state\ndispenses me from complaint.' Then said she, 'O my lord, shall I\ncome to thee or wilt thou come to me?' Quoth I, 'I am a stranger\nhere and have no lodging but the Khan; so by thy favour, it\nshall be at thy house.' 'It is well,' replied she; 'to-night\nis Friday eve, and nothing can be done; but to-morrow, after\nthe morning-prayer, mount thine ass and enquire for the house\nof Berekat the Syndic, known as Abou Shameh, in the Hebbaniyeh\nquarter; for I live there; and do not delay, for I shall be\nexpecting thee.' At this, I rejoiced greatly and took leave of\nher and returned to the Khan, where I passed a sleepless night.\nAs soon as it was day, I rose and changed my clothes and\nperfumed myself with essences and sweet-scented smoke. Then I\ntook fifty dinars in a handkerchief and went out to the Zuweyleh\nGate, where I hired an ass, bidding the driver carry me to the\nHebbaniyeh. So he set off with me and brought me in the twinkling\nof an eye to a by-street called El Munkeri, where I bade him go\nin and enquire for the Syndic's house. After a little he returned\nand said, 'Alight.' But I made him guide me to the house, where I\ndismounted and giving him a quarter-dinar, said, 'Come back\nto-morrow at daybreak and fetch me away.' 'In the name of God,'\nanswered he, and went away. Then I knocked at the gate and there\ncame out two young girls, high-bosomed maids, as they were moons,\nand said to me, 'Enter, for our mistress awaits thee, and she\nslept not last night for joyance in thee.' So I entered and they\nbrought me, through a vestibule, into an upper chamber with seven\ndoors, paved with vari-coloured marbles and furnished with\nhangings and carpets of coloured silk. The walls were plastered\nwith stucco-royal, in which one might see his own face, and the\nroof was ribbed with gold and bordered with inscriptions\nemblazoned in ultramarine. All around were latticed windows\noverlooking a garden, full of fruits of all colours, with streams\nrunning and birds singing on the branches, and midmost the hall\nwas a fountain, at whose angles stood birds fashioned in red\ngold, spouting forth water as it were pearls and jewels; and\nindeed the place comprised all kinds of beauty and dazzled the\nbeholder with its radiance. I entered and sat down; but hardly\nhad I done so, when the lady came up to me, crowned with a diadem\nof pearls and jewels and having her eyebrows pencilled and her\nhands stained with henna. When she saw me, she smiled on me and\nembraced me and pressed me to her bosom; and she set her mouth to\nmine and sucked my tongue, and I did the like with her. Then she\nsaid, 'Can it be true that thou art indeed come to me?' 'I am thy\nslave,' answered I; and she said, 'Welcome, a thousand times! By\nAllah, since I first saw thee, sleep has not been sweet to me nor\nfood pleasant!' Quoth I, 'So has it been with me also.' Then we\nsat down to converse, and I bowed my head for bashfulness.\nPresently, she set before me a tray of the most exquisite meats,\nsuch as ragouts and fritters soaked in honey and fricassees and\nfowls stuffed with sugar and pistachio-nuts, and we ate till we\nwere satisfied. Then they brought ewer and basin and I washed my\nhands, after which we scented ourselves with rose-water mingled\nwith musk and sat down again to converse. We complained to each\nother of the sufferings we had undergone, and my love for her\ntook such hold on me, that all my wealth was of little account to\nme, in comparison with her. We passed the time in toying and\nkissing and dalliance, till nightfall, when the damsels set\nbefore us a banquet of food and wine and we sat carousing half\nthe night. Then we went to bed and I lay with her till the\nmorning, never in my life saw I the like of that night. As soon\nas it was day, I arose and took leave of her, after having\nslipped under the mattress the handkerchief containing the\ndinars; and she wept and said 'O my lord, when shall I see that\nfair face again?' 'I will be with thee at eventide,' answered I,\nand going out, found the ass-man waiting for me at the door. So I\nmounted and rode to the Khan of Mesrour, where I alighted and\ngave the driver half a dinar, saying, 'Come back at sun down.'\nAnd he said, 'Good.' Then I broke my fast and went out to seek\nthe price of my stuffs, after which I returned and taking a roast\nlamb and some sweetmeats, called a porter and despatched them by\nhim to the lady, paying him his hire in advance. I occupied\nmyself with my affairs till sunset, when the ass-driver came for\nme and I took fifty dinars in a handkerchief and rode to the\nhouse, where I found the marble floor swept, the brass burnished,\nthe lamps filled and the candles lighted, the meats ready dished\nand the wines strained. When my mistress saw me, she threw her\narms round my neck and exclaimed, 'Thou hast desolated me by\nthine absence!' Then they set the tables and we ate till we were\nsatisfied, when the serving-maids took away the tray of food and\nset on wine. We gave not over drinking till midnight, when we\nwent to the sleeping-chamber and lay together till morning. Then\nI rose and went away, leaving the fifty dinars with her as\nbefore. I found the ass-driver at the door and mounting, rode to\nthe Khan, where I slept awhile, then went out to prepare the\nevening-meal. I took a brace of geese with broth on two platters\nof dressed rice, together with colocasia-roots[FN#79], fried and\nsoaked in honey, and wax candles and fruits and conserves and\nflowers and nuts and almonds, and sent them all to her. As soon\nas it was night, I mounted the ass as usual, taking with me fifty\ndinars in a handkerchief, and rode to the house, where we ate and\ndrank and lay together till morning, when I left the handkerchief\nand dinars with her and rode back to the Khan. I ceased not to\nlead this life, till one fine morning I found myself without a\nsingle dirhem and said, 'This is Satan's doing!' And I repeated\nthe following verses:\n\n\nWhen a rich man grows poor, his lustre dies away, Like to the\n     setting sun that pales with ended day.\nAbsent, his name is not remembered among men: Present, he hath no\n     part in life and its array.\nHe passes through the streets and fain would hide his head And\n     pours out floods of tears in every desert way.\nBy Allah, when distress and want descend on men, But strangers\n     midst their kin and countrymen are they.\n\nThen I left the Khan and walked along Bein el Kesrein till I came\nto the Zuweyleh Gate, where I found the folk crowded together and\nthe gate blocked up for the much people. As Fate would have it, I\nsaw there a trooper, against whom I pressed, without meaning it,\nso that my hand came on his pocket and I felt a purse inside. I\nlooked and seeing a string of green silk hanging from the pocket,\nknew that it belonged to the purse. The crowd increased every\nmoment and just then, a camel bearing a load of wood jostled the\ntrooper on the other side and he turned to ward it off from him,\nlest it should tear his clothes. When I saw this, Satan tempted\nme; so I pulled  the string and drew out a little purse of blue\nsilk, full of something that chinked like money. Hardly had\nI done so, when the soldier turned and feeling his pocket\nlightened, put his hand to it and found it empty; whereupon he\nturned to me and raising his mace, smote me on the head I fell to\nthe ground, whilst the people came round us and seizing the\nsoldier's horse by the bridle, said to him, 'Is it because he\npushed against thee in the throng, that thou smitest this young\nman such a blow?' But he cried out at them and said, 'This fellow\nis an accursed thief!' With this I came to myself and stood up,\nand the folk looked at me and said, 'This is a comely youth and\nwould not steal aught.' Some took part for me and others against\nme and there was a great clamour, and the people pulled at me and\nwould have rescued me from the trooper; but as Fate would have\nit, the chief of the police and the captain and officers of the\nwatch entered by the gate at this moment; and the prefect, seeing\nthe crowd about the soldier and myself, enquired what was the\nmatter. 'O my lord,' replied the soldier, 'this fellow is a\nthief. I had a blue purse in my pocket, containing twenty dinars,\nand he took it, whilst I was in the crush.' 'Was any one else by\nthee?' asked the magistrate, and the trooper answered, 'No.' Then\nthe prefect cried out to the officers of the watch, who seized me\nand stripping me by his order, found the purse in my clothes. He\ntook it and found in it twenty dinars, as the soldier had said,\nwhereat he was wroth and calling to the officers to bring me\nbefore him, said to me, 'O young man tell me the truth. Didst\nthou steal this purse?' At this I hung down my head and said to\nmyself, 'It is useless for me to say I did not steal the purse,\nfor they found it in my clothes: and if I confess to the theft, I\nfall into trouble.' So I raised my head and said, 'Yes: I took\nit.' When the prefect heard what I said, he wondered and called\nfor witnesses, who came forward and attested by confession. Then\nhe bade the hangman cut off my right hand, and he did so; after\nwhich he would have cut off my left foot also; but the trooper\ntook pity on me and interceded for me with the prefect, who left\nme and went away; whilst the folk remained round me and gave me a\ncup of wine to drink. As for the trooper, he gave me the purse,\nsaying, 'Thou art a comely youth, and it befits not that thou be\na thief.' And I repeated the following verses:\n\nBy Allah, trusty brother mine, I am indeed no thief, Nor, O most\n     bountiful of men, a highwayman am I.\nBut the vicissitudes of fate overthrew me suddenly, And care and\n     stress and penury full sorely did me try.\nIt was not thou, but God who cast the fatal shaft at me, The\n     shaft that made from off my head the crown of honour fly.\n\nThen he left me, and I went away, after having wrapt my hand in a\npiece of rag and thrust it into my bosom. I betook me to my\nmistress's house, faint and ill at ease and pale by reason of\nwhat had befallen me, and threw myself on the couch. She saw that\nmy colour was changed and said to me, 'What ails thee and why do\nI see thee thus changed?' 'My head irks me,' answered I; 'I am\nnot well.' When she heard this, she was vexed and concerned for\nme and said to me, 'Fret not my heart, O my lord! Sit up and\nraise thy head and let me know what has happened to thee to-day,\nfor thy face tells me a tale.' 'Spare me this talk,' replied I.\nBut she wept and said, 'Meseems thou art tired of me, for I see\nthat thou art contrary to thy wont.' But I was silent, and she\ncontinued to talk to me, though I made her no answer, till\nnightfall, when she brought me food: but I refused it, fearing to\nlet her see me eat with my left hand, and said to her, 'I do not\ncare to eat at present.' Quoth she 'Tell me what has befallen\nthee to-day and what ails thee, that thou art troubled and broken\nin heart and spirit.' 'Presently,' replied I; 'I will tell thee\nat my leisure.' Then she brought me wine, saying, 'Take it for it\nwill dispel thy care: thou must indeed drink and tell me what is\nthy matter with thee.' 'Must I tell thee?' said I; and she\nanswered, 'Yes.' Then said I, 'If it must be so, give me to drink\nwith thine own hand.' So she filled and drank then filled again\nand gave me the cup. I took it from her with my left hand and\nrepeated the following verses with tears running from my eyes:\n\nWhen God would execute His will in anything On one endowed with\n     sight, hearing and reasoning,\nHe stops his ears and blinds his eyes and draws his wit From him,\n     as one draws out the hairs to paste that cling;\nTill, His decrees fulfilled, He gives him back his wit, That\n     therewithal he may receive admonishing.\n\nAt this she gave a loud cry and said to me, 'What makes thee\nweep? Thou settest my heart on fire. And what ails thee to take\nthe cup with thy left hand?' 'I have a boil on my right hand,'\nanswered I; and she said, 'Put it out and I will lance it for\nthee.' 'It is not ripe for lancing,' answered I; 'so do not\ntorment me, for I will not show it thee at present.' Then I drank\noff the cup, and she plied me with wine till I became drowsy and\nfell asleep in my place; whereupon she looked at my right arm and\nsaw that it was but a stump without a hand. So she searched me\nand found the purse of gold and my severed hand wrapt in a piece\nof rag. With this, there overcame her such grief as none ever\nknew, and she ceased not to lament for my sake till the morning.\nWhen I awoke, I found she had made me a dish of broth of four\nboiled fowls, which she brought to me, together with a cup of\nwine. I ate and drank and laying down the purse, would have gone\nout; but she said to me, 'Whither goest thou?' 'Where my business\ncalls me,' replied I; and she said, 'Thou shalt not go: sit\ndown.' So I sat down, and she said, 'Has thy love for me brought\nthee to such a pass, that thou hast wasted thy substance and lost\nthy hand on my account? Since this is so, I call God to witness\nagainst me that I will never part with thee: and thou shalt see\nthe truth of my words.' Then she sent for the Cadi and the\nwitnesses and said to them, 'Draw up a contract of marriage\nbetween me and this young man and bear witness that I have\nreceived the dowry.' So they drew up our marriage contract, and\nshe said to them, 'Be witness that all my money that is in this\nchest and all that belongs to me and all my slaves, male and\nfemale, are the property of this young man.' So they took act of\nthis and withdrew, after having received their fees. Then she\ntook me by the hand and leading me to a closet, opened a large\nchest and said to me, 'See what is herein.' I looked and behold,\nit was full of handkerchiefs. Quoth she, 'This is the money I had\nof thee; for every time thou gavest me a handkerchief, with fifty\ndinars in it, I wrapped it together and threw it into this chest;\nso now take thy money, for indeed it returns to thee, and thou\nto-day art become of high estate. Fate afflicted thee, so that\nthou didst lose thy right hand for my sake, and I can never\nrequite thee: nay, though I gave my life, it were little and I\nshould still remain thy debtor.' Then she said to me, 'Take\npossession of thy property!' and transferred the contents of the\nother chest to that which contained the money I had given her. At\nthis, my heart was gladdened and my grief forsook me, and I rose\nand kissed and thanked her. Quoth she, 'Thou hast lost thy hand\nfor love of me, and how can I requite thee? By Allah, if I gave\nmy life for thy love, it were far short of thy due!' Then she\nmade over to me by deed all her clothes and jewels and other\nproperty and lay not down to sleep that night, being in sore\nconcern on my account, till I told her all that had befallen me.\nI passed the night with her; but before we had lived together a\nmonth's time, she fell grievously ill and sickness was upon her,\nby reason of her grief for the loss of my hand; and she endured\nbut fifty days before she was numbered of the folk of the other\nworld. So I laid her in the ground and had recitations of the\nKoran made over her tomb and gave much money in alms for her;\nafter which I returned to the house and found that she had\nleft much substance in money and houses and lands. Among her\nstorehouses was one full of sesame, whereof I sold part to thee;\nand it was the fact of my being busied in selling the rest of my\ngoods and all that was in the storehouses, that diverted my\nattention from thee; nor have I till now made an end of receiving\nthe price. This, then, is the reason of the cutting off of my\nright hand and of my eating with the left. Now thou shalt not\nbaulk me in what I am about to say, for that I have eaten of thy\nvictual; and it is that I make thee a gift of the money that is\nin thy hands.\" \"Indeed,\" replied I, \"thou hast shown me the\nutmost kindness and liberality.\" Then said he, \"Wilt thou journey\nwith me to my native country, whither I am about to return with a\nlading of Cairo and Alexandria stuffs?\" \"I will well,\" answered\nI, and appointed with him for the end of the month. So I sold all\nI had and bought merchandise; then we set out, he and I, and\njourneyed till we came to this town, where he sold his goods, and\nbuying others in their stead, set out again for Egypt. But it was\nmy lot to abide here, so that there befell me in my strangerhood\nwhat befell last night. This, then, is my story, O King of the\nage. Is it not more marvellous than that of the hunchback?' 'Not\nso,' answered the King; 'and needs must you all be hanged.' Then\ncame forward the controller of the Sultan's kitchen and said,\n'With thy leave, I will tell thee what happened to me but lately\nand if it be more marvellous than the story of the hunchback, do\nthou grant us our lives.' 'So be it,' answered the King. Then\nsaid the controller, 'Know, O King, that\n\n\n\n\nThe Controller's Story.\n\n\n\nI was the night before last in company with a number of persons\nwho were assembled for the purpose of hearing a recitation of the\nKoran. The doctors of the law attended, and when the readers had\nmade an end of reading, the table was spread, and amongst other\nthings they set before us a ragout flavoured with cumin-seed.\nSo we sat down to eat it; but one of our number held back and\nabstained from eating. We conjured him to eat of the ragout; but\nhe swore that he would not, and we pressed him till he said,\n\"Press me not; what has already befallen me through eating of\nthis dish suffices me.\" And he repeated the following verses:\n\nShoulder thy tray, 'fore God, and get thee gone with it, And to\n     thine eyes apply such salve as thou deem'st fit.[FN#80]\n\n\"For God's sake,\" said we, \"tell us the reason of thy refusal to\neat of the ragout!\" \"If I must eat of it,\" replied he, \"I will\nnot do so, except I may wash my hands forty times with soap,\nforty times with potash and forty times with galingale, in all a\nhundred and twenty times.\" So the master of the house ordered his\nservants to bring water and all that he required; and the young\nman washed his hands as he had said. Then he sat down, as if\nafraid, and dipping his hand into the ragout, began to eat,\nthough with evident repugnance and as if doing himself violence,\nwhilst we regarded him with the utmost wonder; for his hand\ntrembled and we saw that his thumb had been cut off and he ate\nwith his four fingers only. So we said to him, \"God on thee, what\nhas become of thy thumb? Is thy hand thus by the creation of God\nor has it been mutilated by accident?\" \"O my brothers, answered\nhe, \"it is not this thumb alone that has been cut off, but also\nthat of the other hand and the great toe of each of my feet, as\nye shall see.\" Then he bared his left hand and his feet, and we\nsaw that the left hand was even as the right and that each of his\nfeet lacked the great toe. At this sight, our amazement increased\nand we said to him, \"We are impatient to know thy history and the\nmanner of the cutting off of thy thumbs and great toes and the\nreason of thy washing thy hands a hundred and twenty times.\"\n\"Know then,\" answered he, \"that my father was chief of the\nmerchants of Baghdad in the time of the Khalif Haroun er Reshid;\nbut he was given to drinking wine and listening to the lute and\nother instruments, so that when he died, he left nothing. I\nburied him and had recitations of the Koran made over him and\nmourned for him days and nights. Then I opened his shop and found\nhe had left little but debts. However, I compounded with his\ncreditors for time to pay and betook myself to buying and\nselling, paying them something week by week on account, till at\nlast I succeeded in clearing off the debts and began to add to my\ncapital. One day, as I sat in my shop, there came up to the\nentrance of the bazaar a lady, than whom my eyes never saw a\nfairer, richly clad and decked and riding on a mule, with one\nslave walking before and another behind her. She halted the mule\nat the entrance of the bazaar and entered, followed by an eunuch,\nwho said to her, 'O my lady, come out, without telling any one,\nor thou wilt bring us into trouble.' And he stood before\nher,[FN#81] whilst she looked at the shops. She found no shop\nopen but mine, so came up, with the eunuch behind her, and\nsitting down in my shop, saluted me; never did I hear aught\nsweeter than her voice or more pleasant than her speech. Then she\nunveiled her face and I saw she was like the moon and stole at\nher a glance that cost me a thousand sighs. My heart was\ncaptivated with her love and I could not take my eyes off her\nface; and I repeated the following verses:\n\nSay to the fairest fair, her in the dove-coloured veil, \"Death\n     would be welcome to me, to save me from thy bale:\nGrant me thy favours, I pray! so I may live perchance. Lo! I\n     stretch forth my palm: let not thy bounties fail.\"\n\nWhen she heard this, she answered me by repeating the following\nverses:\n\nPower to forget thee, for desire, fails even unto me: My heart\n     and all my soul will love none other after thee.\nIf my eyes ever look on aught except thy loveliness, May union\n     after severance ne'er brighten them with glee!\nI've sworn an oath by my right hand ne'er to forget thy grace. My\n     sad heart pineth for thy love and never may win free.\nPassion hath given me to drink a brimming cup of love; Would it\n     had given the self-same draught to drink, dear heart, to\n     thee!\nIf thou shouldst ask me what I'd crave most earnestly of God,\n     \"The Almighty's favour first, then thine,\" I'd say, \"my\n     prayer shall be.\"\n\nThen she said to me, 'O youth, hast thou any handsome stuffs?' 'O\nmy lady,' answered I, 'thy slave is poor: but wait till the\nmerchants open their shops, and I will get thee what thou wilt.'\nThen we sat talking, she and I, whilst I was drowned in the sea\nof her love and dazed with passion for her, till the merchants\nopened their shops, when I rose and fetched her all she sought,\nto the value of five thousand dirhems. She gave the stuffs to the\nslave and leaving the bazaar, mounted the mule and rode away,\nwithout telling me whence she came, and I was ashamed to ask her.\nSo I became answerable to the merchants for the price of the\ngoods and thus took on myself a debt of five thousand dirhems.\nThen I went home, drunken with love of her, and they set the\nevening-meal before me. I ate a mouthful and lay down to rest,\nmusing upon her beauty and grace: but sleep came not to me. A\nweek passed thus, and the merchants sought their money of me,\nbut I persuaded them to wait another week, at the end of which\ntime she came up, riding on the mule and attended by an eunuch\nand two slaves. She saluted me and said, 'O my lord, we have\nbeen long in bringing thee the price of the stuffs; but now\nfetch a money-changer and take the amount.' So I sent for the\nmoney-changer, and the eunuch counted me out the money, and we\nsat talking, the lady and I, till the market opened, when she\nsaid to me, 'Get me this and this.' So I got her from the\nmerchants what she wanted, and she took it and went away, without\nsaying a word to me about the price. As soon as she was out of\nsight, I repented me of what I had done, for the price of what\nI had bought for her was a thousand dinars, and I said to\nmyself, 'What doting is this? She has brought me five thousand\ndirhems[FN#82], and taken a thousand dinars'[FN#83] worth of\ngoods.' And I feared lest I should be beggared, through having to\npay the merchants their money, and said, 'They know none but me\nand this woman is none other than a cheat, who hath cozened me\nwith her beauty and grace, for she saw that I was young and\nlaughed at me; and I did not ask her address.' She did not come\nagain for more than a month, and I abode in constant distress and\nperplexity, till at last the merchants dunned me for their money\nand pressed me so that I put up my property for sale and looked\nfor nothing but ruin. However, as I was sitting in my shop, one\nday, absorbed in melancholy thought, she rode up and dismounting\nat the gate of the bazaar, came in and made towards me. When I\nsaw her, my anxiety ceased and I forgot my troubles. She came up\nto me and greeting me with her pleasant speech, said to me,\n'Fetch the money-changer and take thy money.' So she gave me the\nprice of the goods I had gotten for her and more, and fell to\nconversing freely with me, till I was like to die of joy and\ndelight. Presently, she said to me, 'Hast thou a wife?' 'No,'\nanswered I; 'I have never known woman.' And fell a-weeping. Quoth\nshe, 'Why dost thou weep?' 'It is nothing,' replied I; and giving\nthe eunuch some of the dinars, begged him to use his influence\nwith her for me; but he laughed and said, 'She is more in love\nwith thee than thou with her. She had no occasion for the stuffs\nshe bought of thee and did all this but out of love for thee. So\nask of her what thou wilt; she will not deny thee.' When she saw\nme give the eunuch money, she returned and sat down again; and I\nsaid to her, 'Be charitable to thy slave and pardon him what he\nis about to say.' Then I told her what was in my mind, and she\nassented and said to the eunuch, 'Thou shalt carry my message to\nhim.' Then to me, 'Do as the eunuch bids thee.' Then she rose and\nwent away, and I paid the merchants what I owed them, and they\nall profited; but as for me, I gained nought but regret for the\nbreaking off of our intercourse. I slept not all that night; but\nbefore many days were past, the eunuch came to me, and I made\nmuch of him and asked after his mistress. 'She is sick for love\nof thee,' replied he; and I said, 'Tell me who she is.' Quoth he,\n'She is one of the waiting-women of the Lady Zubeideh, the wife\nof the Khalif Haroun er Reshid, who brought her up and advanced\nher to be stewardess of the harem and granted her the right of\ngoing in and out at will. She told her mistress of thee and\nbegged her to marry her to thee; but she said, \"I will not do\nthis, till I see the young man; and if he be worthy of thee, I\nwill marry thee to him.\" So now we wish to bring thee into the\npalace at once and if thou succeed in entering without being\nseen, thou wilt win to marry her; but if the affair get wind,\nthou wilt lose thy head. What sayst thou?' And I answered, 'I\nwill go with thee and abide the risk of which thou speakest.'\nThen said he, 'As soon as it is night, go to the mosque built by\nthe Lady Zubeideh on the Tigris and pray and pass the night\nthere.' 'With all my heart,' answered I. So at nightfall I\nrepaired to the mosque, where I prayed and passed the night. Just\nbefore daybreak, there came up some eunuchs in a boat, with a\nnumber of empty chests, which they deposited in the mosque and\nwent away all, except one who remained behind and whom, on\nexamination, I found to be he who served as our go-between.\nPresently, in came my mistress herself and I rose to her and\nembraced her. She kissed me, weeping, and we talked awhile; after\nwhich she made me get into one of the chests and locked it upon\nme. Then the eunuchs came back with a number of packages; and she\nfell to stowing them in the chests and locking the latter one by\none, till she had filled them all. Then they embarked the chests\nin the boat and made for the Lady Zubeideh's palace. With this,\nreflection came to me and I said to myself, 'My lust will surely\nbring me to destruction, nor do I know whether I shall gain my\nend or no!' And I began to weep, shut up as I was in the chest,\nand to pray to God to deliver me from the peril I was in, whilst\nthe boat ceased not going till it reached the palace gate, where\nthey lifted out the chests and amongst them that in which I was.\nThen they carried them into the palace, passing through a troop\nof eunuchs, guardians of the harem and door-keepers, till they\ncame to the post of the chief of the eunuchs, who started up from\nsleep and called out to the lady, saying, 'What is in those\nchests?' Quoth she, 'They are full of wares for the Lady\nZubeideh.' 'Open them,' said he, 'one by one, that I may see what\nis in them.'--'Why wilt thou open them?' asked she: but he cried\nout at her, saying, 'Give me no words! They must and shall be\nopened.' Now the first that they brought to him to open was that\nin which I was: and when I felt this, my senses failed me and I\nbepissed myself for terror, and the water ran out of the chest.\nThen said she to the eunuch, 'O chief, thou hast undone me and\nthyself also, for thou hast spoiled that which is worth ten\nthousand dinars. This box contains coloured dresses and four\nflasks of Zemzem water; and now one of the bottles has broken\nloose and the water is running out over the clothes and their\ncolours will be ruined.' Then said the eunuch, 'Take up thy\nchests and begone with God's malison!' So the slaves took up the\nchests and hurried on with them, till suddenly I heard a voice\nsaying, 'Alas! Alas! the Khalif! the Khalif!' When I heard this,\nmy heart died within me and I spoke the words which whoso says\nshall not be confounded, that is to say, 'There is no power and\nno virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme! I have brought\nthis affliction on myself.' Presently I heard the Khalif say to\nmy mistress, 'Harkye, what is in those chests of thine ?'\n'Clothes for the Lady Zubeideh,' answered she; and he said, 'Open\nthem to me.' When I heard this, I gave myself up for lost and\nsaid, 'By Allah, this is the last of my worldly days!' and began\nto repeat the profession of the Faith. Then I heard the lady say\nto the Khalif, 'These chests have been committed to my charge by\nthe Lady Zubeideh, and she does not wish their contents to be\nseen of any one.'--'No matter,' said he; 'I must open them and\nsee what is in them.' And he cried out to the eunuchs saying,\n'Bring them to me.' At this, I made sure of death and swooned\naway. Then the slaves brought the chests up to him and opened\nthem, one after another, and he saw in them perfumes and stuffs\nand rich clothes, till none remained unopened but that in which I\nwas. They put their hands to it to open it, but the lady made\nhaste and said to the Khalif, 'This one thou shalt see in the\nLady Zubeideh's presence, for that which is in it is her secret.'\nWhen he heard this, he ordered them to carry in the chests; so\nthey took up that in which I was and carried it, with the rest,\ninto the harem and set it down in the middle of the saloon; and\nindeed my spittle was dried up for fear. Then my mistress opened\nthe chest and took me out, saying, 'Fear not: no harm shall\nbefall thee, but be of good courage and sit down, till the Lady\nZubeideh comes, and thou shalt surely win thy wish of me.' So I\nsat down, and after awhile, in came ten maidens like moons and\nranged themselves in two rows, one facing the other, and after\nthem other twenty, high-bosomed maids with the Lady Zubeideh, who\ncould hardly walk for the weight of her dresses and ornaments. As\nshe drew near, the damsels dispersed from around her, and I\nadvanced and kissed the earth before her. She signed to me to be\nseated and questioned me of my condition and family, to which I\nmade such answers as pleased her, and she said to my mistress, 'O\ndamsel, our nurturing of thee has not been in vain.' Then she\nsaid to me, 'Know that this damsel is to us even as our own\nchild, and she is a trust committed to thee by God.' I kissed the\nearth again before her, well pleased that I should marry my\nmistress, and she bade me sojourn ten days in the palace. So I\nabode there ten days, during which time I saw not my mistress nor\nany one save a serving-maid, who brought me the morning and\nevening meals. After this the Lady Zubeideh took counsel with the\nKhalif on the marriage of her favourite, and he gave leave and\nassigned her a wedding portion of ten thousand dinars. So the\nLady Zubeideh sent for the Cadi and the witnesses, and they drew\nup our marriage contract, after which the women made sweetmeats\nand rich viands and distributed them among the inmates of the\nharem. Thus they did other ten days, at the end of which time my\nmistress entered the bath. Meanwhile, they set before me a tray\nof food, on which was a basin containing a ragout of fricasseed\nfowls' breasts dressed with cumin-seed and flavoured with sugar\nand rose-water, mixed with musk, and many another dish, such as\namazed the wit; and by Allah, I did not hesitate, but fell upon\nthe ragout and ate my fill of it. Then I wiped my hands, but\nforgot to wash them and sat till it grew dark, when they lit the\ncandles and the singing-women came with tambourines and proceeded\nto display the bride and carry her in procession from room to\nroom, receiving largesse of gold and pieces of silk, till they\nhad made the round of the palace. Then they brought her to me and\ndisrobed her. When I found myself alone in bed with her, I\nembraced her, hardly believing in my good fortune; but she smelt\nthe odour of the ragout on my hands and gave a loud cry, at which\nthe maids came running to her from all sides. I was alarmed and\ntrembled, not knowing what was the matter, and the girls said to\nher, 'What ails thee, O sister?' Quoth she, 'Take this madman\naway from me: methought he was a man of sense.' 'What makes thee\nthink me mad?' asked I. 'O madman,' answered she, 'what made thee\neat of ragout of cumin-seed, without washing thy hands? By Allah,\nI will punish thee for thy misconduct! Shall the like of thee\ncome to bed to the like of me, with unwashed hands?' Then she\ntook from her side a whip of plaited thongs and laid on to my\nback and buttocks till I swooned away for the much beating; when\nshe said to the maids, 'Take him and carry him to the chief of\nthe police, that he may cut off the hand wherewith he ate of the\nragout and washed it not.' When I heard this, I said, 'There is\nno power and no virtue but in God! Wilt thou cut off my hand,\nbecause I ate of a ragout and did not wash?' And the girls\ninterceded with her, saying, 'O our sister, forgive him this\nonce!' But she said, 'By Allah, I must and will dock him of\nsomewhat!' Then she went away and I saw no more of her for ten\ndays, at the end of which time, she came in to me and said, 'O\nblack-a-vice, I will not make peace with thee, till I have\npunished thee for eating ragout of cumin-seed, without washing\nthy hands!' Then she cried out to the maids, who bound me; and\nshe took a sharp razor and cut off my thumbs and toes, as ye have\nseen. Thereupon I swooned away and she sprinkled the severed\nparts with a powder which staunched the blood; and I said, 'Never\nagain will I eat of ragout of cumin-seed without washing my hands\nforty times with potash, forty times with galingale and forty\ntimes with soap!' And she took of me an oath to that effect. So\nwhen the ragout was set before me, my colour changed and I said\nto myself, 'It was this that was the cause of the cutting off of\nmy thumbs and toes.' And when ye forced me, I said, 'I must needs\nfulfil the oath I have taken.'\" \"And what befell thee after\nthis?\" asked the others. \"After this,\" replied he, \"her heart was\nappeased and I lay with her that night. We abode thus awhile,\ntill she said to me, one day, 'It befits not that we continue in\nthe Khalif's palace: for none ever came hither but thou, and thou\nwonst not in but by the grace of the Lady Zubeideh. Now she has\ngiven me fifty thousand dinars; so take this money and go out and\nbuy us a commodious house.' So I went forth and bought a handsome\nand spacious house, whither she transported all her goods and\nvaluables.\" Then (continued the controller) we ate and went away:\nand after, there happened to me with the hunchback that thou\nwottest of. This then is my story and peace be on thee.' Quoth\nthe King, 'This story is not more agreeable than that of the\nhunchback: on the contrary, it is less so, and you must all be\nhanged.' Then came forward the Jewish physician and kissing the\nearth, said, 'O King of the age, I will tell thee a story more\nwonderful than that of the hunchback.' 'Tell on,' answered the\nKing; and the Jew said, 'The strangest adventure that ever befell\nme was as follows:\n\n\n\n\n\nThe Jewish Physician's Story.\n\n\n\nIn my younger days I lived at Damascus, where I studied my art;\nand one day, as I sat in my house, there came to me a servant\nwith a summons from the governor of the city. So I followed him\nto the house and entering the saloon, saw, lying on a couch of\njuniper-wood, set with plates of gold, that stood at the upper\nend, a sick youth, never was seen a handsomer. I sat down at his\nhead and offered up a prayer for his recovery. He made a sign to\nme with his eyes and I said to him, \"O my lord, give me thy\nhand.\" So he put forth his left hand, at which I wondered and\nsaid to myself, \"By Allah, it is strange that so handsome a\nyoung man of high family should lack good breeding! This can be\nnothing but conceit.\" However, I felt his pulse and wrote him a\nprescription and continued to visit him for ten days, at the end\nof which time he recovered and went to the bath, whereupon the\ngovernor gave me a handsome dress of honour and appointed me\nsuperintendent of the hospital at Damascus. I accompanied\nhim to the bath, the whole of which they had cleared for his\naccommodation, and the servants came in with him and took off his\nclothes within the bath, when I saw that his right hand had been\nnewly cut off, and this was the cause of his illness. At this I\nwas amazed and grieved for him: then looking at his body I\nsaw on it the marks of beating with rods, for which he had used\nointments. I was perplexed at this and my perplexity appeared in\nmy face. The young man looked at me and reading my thought, said\nto me, \"O physician of the age, marvel not at my case. I will\ntell thee my story, when we leave the bath.\" Then we washed and\nreturning to his house, partook of food and rested awhile; after\nwhich he said to me, \"What sayest thou to taking the air in the\ngarden?\" \"I will well,\" answered I; so he bade the slaves carry\nout carpets and cushions and roast a lamb and bring us some\nfruit. They did as he bade them, and we ate of the fruits, he\nusing his left hand for the purpose. After awhile, I said to him,\n\"Tell me thy story.\" \"O physician of the age,\" answered he, \"hear\nwhat befell me. Know that I am a native of Mosul and my father\nwas the eldest of ten brothers, who were all married, but none of\nthem was blessed with children except my father, to whom God had\nvouchsafed me. So I grew up among my uncles, who rejoiced in me\nwith exceeding joy, till I came to man's estate. One Friday, I\nwent to the chief mosque of Mosul with my father and my uncles,\nand we prayed the congregational prayers, after which all the\npeople went out, except my father and uncles, who sat conversing\nof the wonders of foreign lands and the strange things to be seen\nin various cities. At last they mentioned Egypt and one of my\nuncles said, 'Travellers say that there is not on the face of the\nearth aught fairer than Cairo and its Nile.' Quoth my father,\n'Who has not seen Cairo has not seen the world. Its dust is gold\nand its Nile a wonder; its women are houris and its houses\npalaces: its air is temperate and the fragrance of its breezes\noutvies the scent of aloes-wood: and how should it be otherwise,\nbeing the  mother of the world? Bravo for him who says,' And he\nrepeated the following verses:\n\nShall I from Cairo wend and leave the sweets of its delight? What\n     sojourn after it indeed were worth a longing thought?\nHow shall I leave its fertile plains, whose earth unto the scent\n     Is very perfume, for the land contains no thing that's\n     naught?\nIt is indeed for loveliness a very Paradise, With all its goodly\n     carpet[FN#84] spread and cushions richly wrought.\nA town that maketh heart and eye yearn with its goodliness,\n     Uniting all that of devout and profligate is sought,\nOr comrades true, by God His grace conjoined in brotherhood,\n     Their meeting-place the groves of palms that cluster round\n     about.\nO men of Cairo, if it be God's will that I depart, Let bonds of\n     friendship and of love unite us still in thought!\nName not the city to the breeze, lest for its rival lands It\n     steal the perfumes, wherewithal its garden-ways are fraught.\n\n'And if,' added my father, 'you saw its gardens in the evenings,\nwith the tree-shadows sloping over them, you would behold a\nmarvel and incline to them with delight.' And they fell to\ndescribing Cairo and the Nile. When I heard their accounts of\nCairo, my mind dwelt on it and I longed to visit it; and when\nthey had done talking, each went to his own dwelling. As for me,\nI slept not that night, for stress of yearning after Egypt, nor\nwas meat nor drink pleasant to me. After awhile, my uncles\nprepared to set out for Cairo, and I wept before my father, till\nhe made ready for me merchandise and consented to my going wish\nthem, saying to them, 'Let him not enter Egypt, but leave him to\nsell his goods at Damascus.' Then I took leave of my father and\nwe left Mosul and journeyed till we reached Aleppo, where we\nabode some days. Then we fared on, till we came to Damascus and\nfound it a city as it were a paradise, abounding in trees and\nrivers and birds and fruits of all kinds. We alighted at one of\nthe Khans, where my uncles tarried awhile, selling and buying:\nand they sold my goods also at a profit of five dirhems on every\none, to my great satisfaction; after which they left me and went\non to Egypt, whilst I abode at Damascus in a handsome house, such\nas the tongue fails to describe, which I had hired for two dinars\na month. Here I remained, eating and drinking and spending the\nmoney in my hands, till, one day, as I sat at the door of my\nlodging, there came up a young lady, clad in costly apparel,\nnever saw my eyes richer. I winked at her; and she entered\nwithout hesitation. I entered with her and shut the door, and she\nraised her kerchief and did off her veil, when I found her of\nsurpassing beauty, and love of her took hold upon my heart. So I\nrose and fetched a tray of the most delicate viands and fruits\nand all that was needed for a carouse, and we ate and sported and\ndrank till we were warm with wine. Then I lay with her the most\ndelightful of nights, till the morning, when I offered to give\nher ten dinars; but she frowned and knit her brows and said, 'For\nshame! Thinkest thou I covet thy money?' And she took out from\nthe bosom of her shift ten dinars and laid them before me,\nsaying, 'By Allah, except thou take them, I will never come\nback!' So I accepted them, and she said to me, 'O my beloved,\nexpect me again in three days' time, when I will be with thee\nbetween sundown and nightfall; and do thou provide us with these\ndinars the like of yesterday's entertainment.' So saying, she\nbade me adieu and went away, taking my reason with her. At the\nend of the three days, she came again, dressed in gold brocade\nand wearing richer ornaments than before. I had made ready a\nrepast; so we ate and drank and lay together, as before, till the\nmorning, when she gave me other ten dinars and appointed me again\nfor three days thence. Accordingly, I made ready as before, and\nat the appointed time she came again, more richly dressed than\never, and said to me, 'O my lord, am I not fair?' 'Yea, by\nAllah!' answered I. Then she said, 'Wilt thou give me leave to\nbring with me a young lady handsomer than I and younger, that she\nmay frolic with us and that thou and she may laugh and make merry\nand rejoice her heart, for she has been sad at heart this long\ntime past and has asked me to let her go out and spend the night\nabroad with me?' 'Ay, by Allah!' answered I; and we drank till we\nwere warm with wine and slept together till the morning, when she\ngave me twenty dinars and said to me, 'Add to thy usual\nprovision, on account of the young lady who will come with me.'\nThen she went away, and on the fourth day, I made ready as usual,\nand soon after sundown she came, accompanied by another damsel,\nwrapped in a veil. They entered and sat down; and when I saw\nthem, I repeated the following verses:\n\nHow lovely and how pleasant is our day! The railer's absent,\n     reckless of our play,\nLove and delight and wine with us abide, Each one enough to charm\n     the wit away;\nThe full moon[FN#85] glitters through the falling veil;\n     Bough-like, the shapes within the vestments sway:\nThe rose blooms in the cheeks, and in the eyes Narcissus\n     languishes, in soft decay[FN#86].\nDelight with those I love fulfilled for me And life, as I would\n     have it, fair and gay!\n\nThen I lighted the candles and received them with joy and\ngladness. They put off their outer clothing, and the new damsel\nunveiled her face, when I saw that she was like the moon at its\nfull, never beheld I one more beautiful. Then I rose and set meat\nand drink before them, and we ate and drank: and I began to feed\nthe new damsel and to fill her cup and drink with her. At this\nthe first lady was secretly jealous and said to me, 'Is not this\ngirl more charming than I?' 'Ay, by Allah!' replied I. Quoth she,\n'It is my intent that thou lie with her this night.' And I\nanswered, 'On my head and eyes!' Then she rose and spread the bed\nfor us, and I took the young lady and lay with her that night\ntill the morning, when I awoke and found myself wet, as I\nthought, with sweat. I sat up and tried to rouse the damsel, but\nwhen I shook her by the shoulders, her head rolled off the\npillow. Thereupon my reason fled and I cried out, saying, 'O\ngracious Protector, extend to me Thy protection!' Then I saw that\nshe had been murdered, and the world became black in my sight and\nI sought the lady my first mistress, but could not find her. So I\nknew that it was she who had murdered the girl, out of jealousy,\nand said, 'There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most\nHigh, the Supreme! What is to be done?' I considered awhile, then\nrose and taking off my clothes, dug a hole midmost the courtyard,\nin which I laid the dead girl, with her jewellery and ornaments,\nand throwing back the earth over her, replaced the marble of the\npavement. After this I washed and put on clean clothes and taking\nwhat money I had left, locked up the house and took courage and\nwent to the owner of the house, to whom I paid a year's rent,\ntelling him that I was about to join my uncles at Cairo. Then I\nset out and journeying to Egypt, foregathered with my uncles, who\nrejoiced in me and I found that they had made an end of selling\ntheir goods. They enquired the reason of my coming, and I said,\n'I yearned after you;' but did not let them know that I had any\nmoney with me. I abode with them a year, enjoying the pleasures\nof the city and the Nile and squandering the rest of my money in\nfeasting and drinking, till the time drew near for my uncles'\ndeparture when I hid myself from them and they sought for me, but\ncould hear no news of me and said, 'He must have gone back to\nDamascus.' So they departed, and I came out from my hiding and\nsojourned in Cairo three years, sending year by year the rent of\nthe house at Damascus to its owner, until at last I had nothing\nleft but one year's rent. At this my breast was straitened and I\nset out and journeyed till I reached Damascus, where my landlord\nreceived me with joy. I alighted at the house and found\neverything locked up as I had left it: so I opened the closets\nand took out what was in them and found under the bed, where I\nhad lain with the murdered girl, a necklet of gold set with\njewels. I took it up and cleansing it of her blood, examined it\nand wept awhile. Then I abode in the house two days and on the\nthird day, I went to the bath and changed my clothes. I had now\nno money left and the devil prompted me to sell the necklet, that\ndestiny might be accomplished; so I took it to the market and\nhanded it to a broker, who made me sit down in the shop of my\nlandlord and waited till the market was full, when he took the\nnecklet and offered it for sale privily without my knowledge. The\nprice bidden for it was two thousand dinars; but the broker\nreturned and said to me, 'This necklet is a brass counterfeit of\nFrank manufacture, and a thousand dirhems have been bidden for\nit.' 'Yes,' answered I; 'I knew it to be brass, for we had it\nmade for such an one, that we might mock her: and now my wife has\ninherited it and we wish to sell it; so go and take the thousand\ndirhems.' When the broker heard this, his suspicions were roused;\nso he carried the necklet to the chief of the market, who took it\nto the prefect of police and said to him, 'This necklet was\nstolen from me, and we have found the thief in the habit of a\nmerchant.' So the officers fell on me unawares and brought me to\nthe prefect, who questioned me and I told him what I had told the\nbroker: but he laughed and said, 'This is not the truth.' Then,\nbefore I knew what was toward, his people stripped me and beat me\nwith rods on my sides, till for the smart of the blows I said, 'I\ndid steal it,' bethinking me that it was better to confess that I\nstole it than let them know that she who owned it had been\nmurdered in my house, lest they should put me to death for her.\nSo they wrote down that I had stolen it and cut off my hand. The\nstump they seared with boiling oil and I swooned away: but they\ngave me wine to drink, and I revived and taking up my hand, was\nreturning to my lodging, when the landlord said to me, 'After\nwhat has passed, thou must leave my house and look for another\nlodging, since thou art convicted of theft.' 'O my lord,' said I,\n'have patience with me two or three days, till I look me out a\nnew lodging.' 'So be it,' he answered and I returned to the\nhouse, where I sat weeping and saying, 'How shall I return\nto my people with my hand cut off and they know not that I am\ninnocent?' Then I abode in sore trouble and perplexity for two\ndays, and on the third day the landlord came in to me, and with\nhim some officers of police and the chief of the market, who had\naccused me of stealing the necklace. I went out to them and\nenquired what was the matter, but they seized on me, without\nfurther parley, and tied my hands behind me and put a chain about\nmy neck, saying, 'The necklet that was with thee has been shown\nto the Governor of Damascus, and he recognizes it as one that\nbelonged to his daughter, who has been missing these three\nyears.' When I heard this, my heart sank within me, and I said to\nmyself, 'I am lost without resource; but I must needs tell the\ngovernor my story; and if he will, let him kill me, and if he\nwill, let him pardon me.' So they carried me to the governor's\nhouse and made me stand before him. When he saw me, he looked at\nme out of the corner of his eye and said to those present, 'Why\ndid ye cut off his hand? This man is unfortunate and hath\ncommitted no offense; and indeed ye wronged him in cutting off\nhis hand.' When I heard this, I took heart and said to him, 'By\nAllah, O my lord, I am no thief! But they accused me of this\ngrave offence and beat me with rods in the midst of the market,\nbidding me confess, till for the pain of the beating, I lied\nagainst myself and confessed to the theft, although I am\ninnocent.' 'Fear not,' said the governor; 'no harm shall come to\nthee.' Then he laid the chief of the market under arrest, saying\nto him, 'Give this man the price of his hand, or I will hang thee\nand seize on all thy goods.' And he cried out to the officers,\nwho took him and dragged him away, leaving me with the governor,\nwho made his people unbind me and take the chain off my neck.\nThen he looked at me and said, 'O my son, speak the truth and\ntell me how thou camest by the necklet.' And he repeated the\nfollowing verse:\n\nTo tell the whole truth is thy duty, although It bring thee to\n     burn on the brasier of woe!\n\n'By Allah, O my lord,' answered I, 'such is my intent!' And I\ntold him all that had passed between me and the first lady and\nhow she had brought the second one to me and had slain her out of\njealousy. When he heard my story, he shook his head and beat hand\nupon hand; then putting his handkerchief to his eyes, wept awhile\nand repeated the following verses:\n\nI see that Fortune's maladies are many upon me, For, every\n     dweller in the world, sick unto death is he.\nTo every gathering of friends there comes a parting day: And few\n     indeed on earth are those that are from parting free?\n\nThen he turned to me and said, 'Know, O my son, that she who\nfirst came to thee was my eldest daughter. I brought her up in\nstrict seclusion and when she came to womanhood, I sent her to\nCairo and married her to my brother's son. After awhile, he died\nand she came back to me: but she had learnt profligate habits\nfrom the natives of Cairo: so she visited thee four times and at\nlast brought her younger sister. Now they were sisters by the\nsame mother and much attached to each other; and when this\nhappened to the elder, she let her sister into her secret, and\nshe desired to go out with her. So she asked thy leave and\ncarried her to thee; after which she returned alone, and I\nquestioned her of her sister, finding her weeping for her; but\nshe said, \"I know nothing of her.\" However, after this, she told\nher mother privily what had happened and how she had killed her\nsister; and her mother told me. Then she ceased not to weep and\nsay, \"By Allah, I will never leave weeping for her till I die!\"\nAnd so it fell out. This, O my son, is what happened, and now I\ndesire that thou baulk me not in what I am about to say to thee;\nit is that I purpose to marry thee to my youngest daughter, for\nshe is a virgin and born of another mother, and I will take no\ndower from thee, but on the contrary will appoint thee an\nallowance, and thou shalt be to me as my very son.' 'I will\nwell,' replied I; 'how could I hope for such good fortune?' Then\nhe sent at once for the Cadi and the witnesses and married me to\nhis daughter, and I went in to her. Moreover, he got me a large\nsum of money from the chief of the market and I became in high\nfavour with him. Soon after, news came to me that my father was\ndead so the governor despatched a courier to fetch me the\nproperty he had left behind him, and now I am living in all\nprosperity. This is how I came to lose my right hand.\" His story\namazed me (continued the Jew) and I abode with him three days,\nafter which he gave me much money and I set out and travelled,\ntill I reached this thy city. The sojourn liked me well, so I\ntook up my abode here and there befell me what thou knowest with\nthe hunchback.' Quoth the King, 'This thy story is not more\nwonderful than that of the hunchback, and I will certainly hang\nyou all. However, there still remains the tailor, who was the\nhead of the offending.' Then he said to the tailor, 'O tailor, if\nthou canst tell me aught more wonderful than the story of the\nhunchback, I will pardon you all your offenses.' So the tailor\ncame forward and said, 'Know, O King of the age, that a most rare\nthing happened to me yesterday before I fell in with the\nhunchback.\n\n\n\n\n\nThe Tailor's Story.\n\n\n\nYesterday morning early I was at an entertainment given by a\nfriend of mine, at which there were assembled near twenty men of\nthe people of the city, amongst them tailors and silk-weavers and\ncarpenters and other craftsmen. As soon as the sun had risen,\nthey set food before us that we might eat, when behold, the\nmaster of the house entered, and with him a comely young man, a\nstranger from Baghdad, dressed in the finest of clothes and\nperfectly handsome, except that he was lame. He saluted us, while\nwe rose to receive him; and he was about to sit down, when he\nespied amongst us a certain barber; whereupon he refused to sit\nand would have gone away. But we stopped him and the host seized\nhim and adjured him, saying, \"What is the reason of thy coming in\nand going out again at once?\" \"By Allah, O my lord,\" answered he,\n\"do not hinder me, for the cause of my turning back is yonder\nbarber of ill-omen sitting there.\" When the host heard this, he\nwondered and said, \"How comes this young man, who is from\nBaghdad. to be troubled in his mind about this barber?\" Then we\nlooked at the young man and said to him, \"Tell us the reason of\nthine anger against the barber.\" \"O company,\" replied he, \"there\nbefell me a strange adventure with this barber in my native city\nof Baghdad; he was the cause of the breaking of my leg and of my\nlameness, and I have sworn that I will never sit in the same\nplace with him nor tarry in any city of which he is an\ninhabitant. I left Baghdad, to be rid of him, and took up my\nabode in this city and lo, I find him with you! But now not\nanother night shall pass, before I depart hence.\" So we begged\nhim to sit down and tell us what had passed between him and the\nbarber in Baghdad, whereat the latter changed colour and hung\ndown his head. Then said the young man, \"Know, O company, that my\nfather was one of the chief merchants of Baghdad, and God had\nvouchsafed him no child but myself. When I grew up to man's\nestate, my father was translated to the mercy of God, leaving me\ngreat wealth in money and slaves and servants, and I began to\ndress handsomely and feed daintily. Now God had made me a hater\nof women, and one day, as I was going along one of the streets of\nBaghdad, a company of women stopped the way before me; so I fled\nfrom them, and entering a by-street without an outlet, sat down\nupon a stone bench at the other end. I had not sat long, before\nthe lattice of one of the houses in the street opened and a young\nlady, as she were the moon at its full, never in my life saw I\nher like, put forth her head and began to water some flowers she\nhad on the balcony. Then she turned right and left and seeing me\nwatching her, smiled and shut the window and went away.\nTherewithal, fire flamed up in my heart and my mind was taken up\nwith her, and my hatred (of women) was changed to love. I\ncontinued sitting there, lost to the world, till sundown, when\nthe Cadi of the city came riding up the street, with slaves\nbefore him and servants behind him, and alighting, entered the\nvery house at which the young lady had appeared. By this I\nguessed that he was her father; so I went home, sorrowful, and\nfell on my bed, oppressed with melancholy thoughts. My women came\nin to me and sat round me, puzzled to know what ailed me; but I\nwould not speak to them nor answer their questions, and they wept\nand lamented over me. Presently, in came an old woman, who looked\nat me and saw at once what was the matter with me. So she sat\ndown at my head and spoke me fair and said, 'O my son, tell me\nwhat ails thee, and I will bring thee to thy desire.' So I told\nher what had happened to me, and she said, 'O my son, this girl is\nthe Cadi's daughter of Baghdad; she is kept in strict seclusion,\nand the window at which thou sawest her is that of her apartment,\nwhere she dwells alone, her father occupying a great suite of\nrooms underneath. I often visit her, and thou shalt not come at\nher but through me; so gird thy middle and be of good cheer.' So\nsaying, she went away, whilst I took comfort at what she said and\narose in the morning well, to the great satisfaction of my\npeople. By-and-by the old woman came in, chopfallen, and said to\nme, 'O my son, do not ask how I have fared with her! When I\nopened the subject to her, she said to me, \"An thou leave not\nthis talk, pestilent hag that thou art, I will assuredly use thee\nas thou deserves!\" But needs must I have at her again.' When I\nheard this, it added sickness to my sickness: but after some\ndays, the old woman came again and said to me, 'O my son, I must\nhave of thee a present for good news.' With this, life returned\nto me, and I said, 'Whatever thou wilt is thine.' Then said she,\n'O my son, I went yesterday to the young lady, who seeing me\nbroken-spirited and tearful-eyed, said to me, \"O my aunt, what\nails thee that I see thy heart thus straitened?\" Whereupon I wept\nand replied, \"O my lady, I am just come from a youth who loves\nthee and is like to die for thy sake.\" Quoth she (and indeed her\nheart was moved to pity), \"And who is this youth of whom thou\nspeakest?\" \"He is my son,\" answered I, \"and the darling of my\nheart. He saw thee, some days since, at the window, tending thy\nflowers, and fell madly in love with thee. I told him what passed\nbetween thee and me the other day, whereupon his disorder\nincreased and he took to his bed and will surely die.\" At this\nher colour changed and she said, \"Is all this on my account?\"\n\"Yea, by Allah!\" answered I. \"What wouldst thou have me do?\" Then\nsaid she, \"Go back to him and salute him for me and tell him that\nmy sufferings are twice as great as his. And on Friday, before\nthe time of prayer, let him come hither and I will come down and\nopen the door to him. Then I will carry him to my chamber, where\nwe can converse awhile and he can go away, before my father comes\nback from the mosque.\"' When I heard this, my anguish ceased and\nmy heart was comforted. So I took off the clothes I was wearing\nand gave them to the old woman; and she said, 'Be of good cheer.'\n'There is no pain left in me,' answered I; and she went away. My\nhousehold and friends rejoiced in my restoration to health, and I\nabode thus till Friday, when the old woman entered and asked me\nhow I did, to which I replied that I was well and in good case.\nThen I dressed and perfumed myself and sat down to await the\ngoing in of the folk to the mosque, that I might betake myself to\nthe young lady. But the old woman said to me, 'Thou hast time and\nto spare; so thou wouldst do well to go to the bath and have thy\nhead shaved, to do away the traces of thy disorder.' 'It is well\nthought,' answered I; 'I will first have my head shaved and then\ngo to the bath.' Then I said to my servant, 'Go to the market and\nbring me a barber, and look that he be no meddler, but a man of\nsense, who will not split my head with his much talk.' So he went\nout and returned with this wretched old man. When he came in, he\nsaluted me, and I returned his salutation. Then said he, 'Surely,\nI see thee thin of body.' And I replied, 'I have been ill.' Quoth\nhe, 'God cause affliction and trouble and anxiety to depart from\nthee!' 'May God hear thy prayer!' answered I: and he said, 'Be of\ngood cheer, O my lord, for indeed recovery is come to thee. Dost\nthou wish to be polled or let blood? Indeed, it is reported, on\nthe authority of Ibn Abbas[FN#87] (whom God accept!), that the\nProphet said, \"Whoso is polled on a Friday, God shall avert from\nhim threescore and ten diseases;\" and again, \"He who is cupped\non a Friday is safe from loss of sight and a host of other\nailments.\"' 'Leave this talk,' said I; 'come, shave my head at\nonce, for I am yet weak.' With this he pulled out a handkerchief,\nfrom which he took an astrolabe with seven plates, mounted in\nsilver, and going into the courtyard, held the instrument up to\nthe sun's rays and looked for some time. Then he came back and\nsaid to me, 'Know that eight degrees and six minutes have elapsed\nof this our day, which is Friday, the tenth of Sefer, in the six\nhundred and fifty-third year of the Flight of the Prophet (upon\nwhom be the most excellent of blessing and peace!) and the seven\nthousand three hundred and twentieth year of the Alexandrian era,\nand the planet now in the ascendant, according to the rules of\nmathematics, is Mars, which being in conjunction with Mercury,\ndenotes a favourable time for cutting hair; and this also\nindicates to me that thou purposest to foregather with some one\nand that your interview will be propitious; but after this there\noccurs a sign, respecting a thing which I will not name to thee.'\n'By Allah,' exclaimed I, 'thou weariest me and pesterest me with\nthy foolish auguries, when I only sent for thee to shave my head!\nSo come, shave me at once and give me no more talk.' 'By Allah,'\nrejoined he, 'if thou knewest what is about to befall thee, thou\nwouldst do nothing this day; and I counsel thee to do as I shall\ntell thee, by observation of the stars.' 'By Allah,' said I, 'I\nnever saw a barber skilled in astrology except thee: but I think\nand know that thou art prodigal of idle talk. I sent for thee to\nshave my head, and thou plaguest me with this sorry prate!' 'What\nmore wouldst thou have!' replied he. 'God hath vouchsafed thee a\nbarber, who is an astrologer, versed in the arts of alchemy and\nwhite magic, syntax, grammar and lexicology, rhetoric and logic,\narithmetic, astronomy and geometry, as well as in the knowledge\nof the Law and the Traditions of the Prophet and in exegesis.\nMoreover, I have read many books and digested them and have had\nexperience of affairs and understand them thoroughly. In short, I\nhave examined into all things and studied all arts and crafts and\nsciences and mastered them; and thy father loved me because of my\nlack of officiousness, for which reason my service is obligatory\non thee. I am no meddler, as thou pretendest, and on this account\nI am known as the Silent, the Grave One. Wherefore it behoves\nthee to give thanks to God and not cross me for I am a true\ncounsellor to thee and take an affectionate interest in thee. I\nwould I were in thy service a whole year, that thou mightst do me\njustice: and I would ask no hire of thee for this.' When I heard\nthis, I said, 'Thou wilt certainly be the death of me this day!'\n'O my lord,' replied he, 'I am he whom the folk call the Silent,\nby reason of my few words, to distinguish me from my six\nbrothers, the eldest of whom was called Becbac,[FN#88] the\nsecond Heddar,[FN#89] the third Fekic,[FN#90] the fourth El\nKouz el Aswani,[FN#91] the fifth El Feshar,[FN#92] the sixth\nShecashic[FN#93] and the seventh (myself) Samit[FN#94].' Whilst\nhe thus overwhelmed me with his talk, I thought my gall-bladder\nwould burst so I said to the servant, 'Give him a quarter-dinar\nand let him go, for God's sake! I won't have my head shaved\nto-day.' 'What words are these, O my lord?' said he. 'By Allah, I\nwill take no hire of thee till I have served thee; and needs must\nI serve thee, for indeed it is incumbent on me to do so and\nfulfil thy need; and I care not if I take no money of thee. If\nthou knowest not my worth, I know thine; and I owe thy father\n(may God the Most High have mercy on him!) many a kindness, for\nhe was a generous man. By Allah, he sent for me one day as it\nwere this blessed day, and I went in to him and found a company\nof his friends with him. He would have had me let him blood; but\nI pulled out my astrolabe and taking an altitude for him, found\nthe aspect inauspicious and the hour unfavourable for the letting\nof blood. I told him of this and he conformed to my advice and\nput off the operation to a more convenient season. So I recited\nthe following verses in his honour:\n\nI came one day unto my lord, that I might let him blood, But\n     found that for his body's health the season was not good;\nSo sat me down and talked with him of many a pleasant thing And\n     all the treasures of my mind before him freely strewed.\nWell pleased, he listened, then, \"O mine of knowledge!\" he did\n     say, \"Thy wit and wisdom overpass the bounds of likelihood!\"\n\"Not so,\" quoth I; \"my wit indeed were little, but for thee, O\n     prince of men, that pour'st on me thy wisdom like a flood!\nThou seem'st indeed the lord of grace, bounty and excellence,\n     World's treasure-house of knowledge, wit, sense and\n     mansuetude!\"\n\nThy father was charmed and cried out to the servant, saying,\n\"Give him a hundred and three dinars and a dress of honour.\" The\nservant did as he bade, and I waited till a favourable moment,\nwhen I let him blood; and he did not cross me, but thanked me,\nand all present also praised me. When the cupping was over, I\ncould not help saying to him, \"By Allah, O my lord, what made\nthee say to the servant, 'Give him a hundred and three dinars'?\"\nQuoth he, \"One dinar was for the astrological observation,\nanother for thine entertaining converse, the third for the\nbloodletting and the remaining hundred and the dress for thy\nverses in my honour.\"' 'May God show no mercy to my father,'\nexclaimed I, 'for knowing the like of thee?' He laughed and said,\n'There is no god but God and Mohammed is His Apostle! Glory be to\nHim who changes but is not changed! I took thee for a man of\nsense; but I see thou dotest for illness. God says, in His\nprecious Book, that Paradise is prepared for \"those who restrain\ntheir wrath and forgive men\", and in any case thou art excused.\nBut I am ignorant of the cause of thy haste, and thou must know\nthat thy father and grandfather did nothing without consulting\nme, for indeed it is said that he with whom one takes counsel\nshould be trustworthy and that he who takes counsel shall not be\ndisappointed. It is said also that he who hath not an elder (to\nadvise him) will never be an elder himself; and indeed the poet\nsays:\n\nEre thou decide to venture thyself in aught, Consult an\n     experienced man and cross him not.\n\nAnd indeed thou wilt find none better versed in affairs than I,\nand I am here standing on my feet to serve thee. I am not vexed\nwith thee: why shouldst thou be vexed with me? But I will bear\nwith thee for the sake of the favours I owe thy father.' 'By\nAllah,' exclaimed I, 'O thou whose tongue is as long as a\njackass's tail, thou persistest in pestering me with talk and\npelting me with words, when all I want of thee is to shave my\nhead and take thyself off!' Then he lathered my head, saying, 'I\nknow that thou art vexed with me, but I bear thee no malice; for\nthy wit is weak and thou art a boy: it was but yesterday I took\nthee on my shoulders and carried thee to the school' 'O my\nbrother,'. cried I, 'for God's sake, do what I want and go thy\nway!' And I rent my clothes. When he saw me do this, he took the\nrazor and fell to sharpening it and stinted not, till I was\nwell-nigh distraught. Then he came up to me and shaved a part of\nmy head, then held his hand and said, 'O my lord, hurry is of the\nDevil and deliberation of the Merciful One. Methinks thou knowest\nnot my station; verily my hand falls on the heads of kings and\namirs and viziers and sages and learned men: and it was of me the\npoet said:\n\nAll the trades are like necklets of jewels and gold And this\n     barber indeed's the chief pearl of the strings.\nHe excelleth all others that boast of their skill. And under his\n     hand are the topknots of kings.'\n\n'Leave what concerns thee not,' said I: 'indeed thou hast\nstraitened my breast and troubled my mind.' Quoth he, Meseems\nthou art in haste. 'Yes, yes, yes!' answered I, and he, 'Thou\nwouldst do well to proceed with deliberation, for haste is of the\nDevil and bequeaths repentance and disappointment. Verily he upon\nwhom be blessing and peace[FN#95] hath said, \"The best affair is\nthat which is undertaken with deliberation.\" By Allah, thy case\ntroubles me, and I would have thee let me know what it is thou\nart in such haste to do, for I fear me it is other than good.'\nThen said he, 'It wants three hours yet of the time of prayer.\nHowever, I do not wish to be in doubt as to this, but am minded\nto know the time for certain; for speech, when it is conjectural,\nis but faulty, especially in the like of me, whose merit is plain\nand known of all men; and it does not befit me to talk at random,\nas do the common sort of astrologers.' So saying, he threw down\nthe razor and taking up the astrolabe, went out under the sun and\nstood a long while, after which he returned and said to me, 'It\nwants three hours of the time of prayer, neither more nor less.'\n'By Allah,' answered I, 'hold thy tongue, for thou breakest my\nheart in pieces!' So he took his razor and after sharpening it as\nbefore, shaved another part of my head. Then he said, 'I am\nconcerned about thy haste; and indeed thou wouldst do well to\ntell me the cause of it, for thou knowest that thy father and\ngrandfather did nothing without my counsel.' When I saw that\nthere was no getting rid of him, I said to myself, 'The time of\nprayer draws near and I wish to go to her before the folk come\nout from the mosque. If I am delayed much longer, I know not\nhow I shall come at her.' Then I said to him, 'Be quick and\nleave this prating and officiousness, for I have to go to an\nentertainment at the house of one of my friends.' When he heard\nme speak of an entertainment, he said, 'This thy day is a blessed\none for me! Verily, yesterday I invited a party of my intimate\nfriends and I have forgotten to provide aught for them to eat. I\nbethought me of it but now, on hearing thee speak of an\nentertainment. Alack, how I shall be disgraced in their eyes!'\n'Be in no concern for that,' answered I. 'Have I not told thee\nthat I am bidden abroad to-day? All the meat and drink in the\nhouse shall be thine, so thou despatch my affair and make haste\nto shave my head.' 'God requite thee with good!' rejoined he.\n'Tell me what thou hast for my guests, that I may know.' Quoth I,\n'I have five dishes of meat and ten fricasseed fowls and a\nroasted lamb.' 'Bring them out to me,' said he, 'that I may see\nthem.' So I had all this brought, and when he saw it, he said,\n'There lacks the wine.' 'I have a flagon or two in the house,'\nanswered I; and he said, 'Have it brought out.' So I sent for it,\nand he exclaimed, 'God bless thee for a generous soul! But there\nare still the perfumes and the essences.' So I brought him a box,\ncontaining fifty dinars' worth of aloes-wood and ambergris and\nmusk and other perfumes. By this, the time began to run short and\nmy heart was straitened; so I said to him, 'Take it all and\nfinish shaving my head, by the life of Mohammed, whom God bless\nand preserve!' 'By Allah,' said he, 'I will not take it till\nI see all that is in it.' So I made the servant open the box,\nand the barber threw down the astrolabe and sitting down on\nthe ground, turned over the contents, till I was well-nigh\ndistracted. Then he took the razor and coming up to me, shaved\nsome little of my head and recited the following verse:\n\nThe boy after his father's guise grows up and follows suit As\n     surely as the tree springs up from out its parent root.\n\nThen said he, 'O my son, I know not whether to thank thee or thy\nfather; for my entertainment to-day is all due to thy kindness\nand liberality, and none of my company is worthy of it; though I\nhave none but men of consideration, such as Zentout the\nbath-keeper and Selya the corn-chandler and Silet the bean-seller\nand Akresheh the grocer and Hemid the scavenger and Said the\ncamel-driver and Suweyd the porter and Abou Mukarish the\nbathman[FN#96] and Cassim the watchman and Kerim the groom.\nThere is not among them all one curmudgeon or make-bate or\nmeddler or spoil-sport; each has his own dance that he dances\nand his own couplets that he repeats, and the best of them is\nthat they are like thy servant, knowing not abundance of talk\nnor meddlesomeness. The bath-keeper sings enchantingly to the\ntambourine and dances and says, \"I am going, O my mother, to fill\nmy jar!\" As for the corn-chandler, he brings more skill to it\nthan any of them; he dances and says, \"O mourner, my mistress,\nthou dost not fall short!\" and draws the very heart out of one\nfor laughing at him. Whilst the scavenger sings, so that the\nbirds stop to listen to him, and dances and says, \"News with my\nwife is not kept in a chest!\" And indeed he is a witty,\naccomplished rogue, and of his excellence I use to say the\nfollowing:\n\nMy life redeem the scavenger! I love him passing dear, For, in\n     his goodly gait, he's like the zephyr-shaken bough.\nFate blessed my eyes with him one night; and I to him did say,\n     (Whilst in my bosom, as I spoke, desire did ebb and flow,)\n\"Thou'st lit thy fire within my heart!\" Whereto he answer made\n     \"What wonder though the scavenger have turned a\n     fire-man[FN#97] now?\"\n\nAnd indeed each is perfection in all that can charm the wit with\nmirth and jollity. But hearing is not like seeing; and indeed if\nthou wilt join us and put off going to thy friends, it will be\nbetter both for us and for thee: for the traces of sickness are\nyet upon thee and belike thou art going amongst talkative folk,\nwho will prate of what does not concern them, or there may be\namongst them some impertinent busybody who will split thy head,\nand thou still weak from illness.' 'This shall be for another\nday,' answered I and laughed in spite of my anger. 'Finish what\nthou hast to do for me and go in peace and enjoy thyself with thy\nfriends, for they will be awaiting thy coming.' 'O my lord,'\nreplied he, 'I only seek to bring thee in company with these\npleasant folk, amongst whom there is neither meddlesomeness nor\nexcess of talk; for never, since I came to years of discretion,\ncould I endure to consort with those who ask of what concerns\nthem not, nor with any except those who are, like myself, men of\nfew words. Verily, if thou wert once to see them and company with\nthem, thou wouldst forsake all thy friends.' 'God fulfil thy\ngladness with them!' rejoined I. 'Needs must I foregather with\nthem one of these days.' And he said, 'I would it were to be\nto-day, for I had made up my mind that thou shouldst make one of\nus: but if thou must indeed go to thy friends to-day, I will take\nthe good things, with which thy bounty hath provided me for them,\nto my guests, and leave them to eat and drink, without waiting\nfor me, whilst I return to thee in haste and accompany thee\nwhither thou goest; for there is no ceremony between me and my\nfriends to hinder me from leaving them.' 'There is no power and\nno virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme!' cried I. 'Go\nthou to thy friends and make merry with them and let me go to\nmine and be with them this day, for they expect me.' 'I will\nnot let thee go alone,' replied he: and I said, 'None can enter\nwhere I am going but myself.' Then said he, 'I believe thou\nhast an assignation with some woman to-day; else thou wouldst\ntake me with thee, for it is the like of me that furnishes a\nmerry-making; or if thou go to any one with whom thou wouldst be\nprivate, I am the fittest of all men for thy purpose, for I would\nhelp thee to what thou desirest and look that none saw thee. I\nfear lest thou go in to some strange woman and lose thy life; for\nin this city one cannot do aught of the kind, especially on a day\nlike this and under so keen and masterful a chief of the police\nas ours of Baghdad.' 'Out on thee, O wretched old man!' cried I.\n'Avaunt! what words are these thou givest me?' 'O dolt!' rejoined\nhe, 'thou sayest to me what is not true and hidest thy mind from\nme; but I know that this is so and am certain of it, and I only\nseek to help thee this day.' I was fearful lest my people or the\nneighbours should hear the barber's talk, so kept silence, whilst\nhe finished shaving my head; by which time the hour of prayer was\ncome and it was wellnigh time for the exhortation.[FN#98] When he\nhad done, I said to him, 'Take the meat and drink and carry them\nto thy friends. I will await thy return.' For I thought it best\nto dissemble with the accursed fellow and feign compliance with\nhis wishes, so haply he might go away and leave me. Quoth he,\n'Thou art deceiving me and wilt go alone and cast thyself into\nsome peril, from which there will be no escape for thee. For\nGod's sake, do not go till I return, that I may accompany thee\nand see what comes of thine affair.' 'It is well,' answered I:\n'do not be long absent.' Then he took all that I had given him\nand went out; but, instead of going home with it, the cursed\nfellow delivered it to a porter, to carry to his house, and hid\nhimself in a by-street. As for me, I rose at once, for the\nMuezzins had already chanted the Salutation,[FN#99] and, dressing\nmyself in haste, went out and hurried to the house where I had\nseen the young lady. I found the old woman standing at the door,\nawaiting me, and went up with her to the young lady's apartment.\nHardly had I done so, when the master of the house returned from\nthe mosque and entering the saloon, shut the door. I looked out\nfrom the window and saw this barber (God's malison on him!)\nsitting over against the door, and said, 'How did this devil find\nme out?' At this moment, as God had decreed it for my undoing, it\nbefell that a slave-girl belonging to the master of the house\ncommitted some offence, for which he beat her. She cried out, and\na male slave came in to deliver her, whereupon the Cadi beat him\nalso, and he too cried out. The cursed barber concluded that it\nwas I he was beating and fell to tearing his clothes and strewing\ndust on his head, shrieking and calling for help. So the folk\ncame round him, and he said to them, 'My master is being murdered\nin the Cadi's house!' Then he ran, shrieking, to my house, with\nthe folk after him, and told my people and servants: and before I\nknew what was forward, up they came, with torn clothes and\ndishevelled hair, calling out, 'Alas, our master!' and the barber\nat their head, in a fine pickle, tearing his clothes and\nshouting. They made for the house in which I was, headed by the\nbarber, crying out, 'Woe is us for our murdered master!' And the\nCadi, hearing the uproar at his door, said to one of his\nservants, 'Go and see what is the matter.' The man went out and\ncame back, saying, 'O my lord, there are more than ten thousand\nmen and women at the door, crying out, \"Woe is us for our\nmurdered master!\" and pointing to our house.' When the Cadi heard\nthis, he was troubled and vexed; so he went to the door and\nopening it, saw a great concourse of people; whereat he was\namazed and said, 'O folk, what is the matter?' 'O accursed one, O\ndog, O hog,' replied my servants, 'thou hast killed our master!'\nQuoth he, 'And what has your master done to me that I should kill\nhim? Behold, this my house is open to you!' 'Thou didst beat him\nbut now with rods,' answered the barber; 'for I heard his cries.'\n'What has he done that I should beat him?' repeated the Cadi;\n'and what brings him into my house?' 'Be not a vile, perverse old\nman!' replied the barber; 'I know the whole story. The long and\nthe short of it is that thy daughter is in love with him and he\nwith her; and when thou knewest that he had entered the house,\nthou badest thy servants beat him, and they did so. By Allah,\nnone shall judge between us and thee but the Khalif! So bring us\nout our master, that his people may take him, before I go and\nfetch him forth of thy house and thou be put to shame.' When the\nCadi heard this, he was dumb for amazement and confusion before\nthe people, but presently said to the barber, 'If thou speak\ntruth, come in and fetch him out.' Whereupon the barber pushed\nforward and entered the house. When I saw this, I looked about\nfor a means of escape, but saw no hiding-place save a great chest\nthat stood in the room. So I got into the chest and pulled the\nlid down on me and held my breath. Hardly had I done this, when\nthe barber came straight to the place where I was and catching up\nthe chest, set it on his head and made off with it in haste. At\nthis, my reason forsook me and I was assured that he would not\nlet me be; so I took courage and opening the chest, threw myself\nto the ground. My leg was broken in the fall, and the door of the\nhouse being opened, I saw without a great crowd of people. Now I\nhad much gold in my sleeve, which I had provided against the like\nof this occasion; so I fell to scattering it among the people, to\ndivert their attention from me; and whilst they were busy\nscrambling for it, I set off running through the by-streets of\nBaghdad, and this cursed barber, whom nothing could divert from\nme, after me. Wherever I went, he followed, crying out, 'They\nwould have bereft me of my master and slain him who has been a\nbenefactor to me and my family and friends! But praised be God\nwho aided me against them and delivered my lord from their hands!\nWhere wilt thou go now? Thou persistedst in following thine own\nevil devices, till thou broughtest thyself to this pass, and if\nGod had not vouchsafed me to thee, thou hadst never won free from\nthis strait, for they would have plunged thee into irremediable\nruin. How long dost thou expect I shall live to save thee? By\nAllah, thou hast well-nigh undone me by thy folly and thy\nperverseness in wishing to go by thyself! But I will not reproach\nthee with ignorance, for thou art little of wit and hasty.' 'Does\nnot what thou hast brought upon me suffice thee,' replied I, 'but\nthou must pursue me with the like of this talk through the public\nstreets?' And I well-nigh gave up the ghost for excess of rage\nagainst him. Then I took refuge in the shop of a weaver in the\nmidst of the market and sought protection of the owner, who drove\nthe barber away. I sat down in the back shop and said to myself,\n'If I return home, I shall never be able to get rid of this\naccursed barber, for he will be with me night and day, and I\ncannot endure the sight of him.' So I sent out at once for\nwitnesses and made a will, dividing the greater part of my money\namong my people, and appointed a guardian over them, to whom I\ncommitted the charge of great and small directing him to sell my\nhouse and estates. Then I set out at once on my travels, that I\nmight be free of this ruffian, and came to settle in your town,\nwhere I have lived for some time. When you invited me and I came\nhither the first thing I saw was this accursed pimp seated in the\nplace of honour. How, then, can I be at my ease and how can it be\npleasant to me to consort with you, in company with this fellow,\nwho brought all this upon me and was the cause of the breaking of\nmy leg and of my exile from my country and family?\" And he\nrefused to sit down and went away. When we heard the young man's\nstory (continued the tailor), we were beyond measure amazed and\ndiverted and said to the barber, \"Is it true that this young man\nsays of thee?\" \"By Allah,\" replied he, \"I dealt thus with him of\nmy courtesy and good sense and humanity. But for me, he had\nperished and none but I was the cause of his escape. Well for him\nthat it was in his leg that he suffered and not in his life! Were\nI a man of many words or a busybody, I had not done him this\nkindness; but now I will tell you something that happened to me,\nthat ye may know that I am indeed sparing of speech and no\nimpertinent meddler, as were my six brothers; and it is this:\n\n\n\n\n\nThe Barber's Story.\n\n\n\nI was living at Baghdad, in the time of the Khalif Mustensir\nBillah,[FN#100] who loved the poor and needy and companied with\nthe learned and the pious. One day, it befell that he was wroth\nwith a band of highway robbers, ten in number, who infested the\nneighbourhood, and ordered the chief of the Baghdad police to\nbring them before him on the day of the Festival. So the prefect\nsallied out and capturing the robbers, embarked with them in a\nboat. I caught sight of them, as they were embarking, and said to\nmyself, 'These people are surely bound on some party of pleasure;\nmethinks they mean to spend the day in eating and drinking, and\nnone shall be their messmate but I.' So, of the greatness of my\ncourtesy and the gravity of my understanding, I embarked in the\nboat and mingled with them. They rowed across to the opposite\nbank, where they landed, and there came up soldiers and police\nofficers with chains, which they put round the necks of the\nrobbers. They chained me with the rest, and, O company, is it not\na proof of my courtesy and spareness of speech that I kept\nsilence and did not choose to speak? Then they took us away in\nchains and next morning they carried us all before the Commander\nof the Faithful, who bade strike off the heads of the ten\nrobbers. So the herdsman came forward and made us kneel before\nhim on the carpet of blood;[FN#101] then drawing his sword,\nstruck off one head after another, till none was left but\nmyself. The Khalif looked at me and said to the headsman, 'What\nails thee thou thou struck off but nine heads?' 'God forbid,'\nreplied he, 'that I should behead only nine, when thou didst\norder me to behead ten!' Quoth the Khalif, 'Meseems, thou hast\nbeheaded but nine and he who is before thee is the tenth.' 'By\nthy munificence,' replied the headsman, 'I have beheaded ten!' So\nthey counted the dead men, and behold, they were ten. Then said\nthe Khalif to me, 'What made thee keep silence at such a time and\nhow camest thou in company with these men of blood? Thou art a\nman of great age, but assuredly thy wit is but little.' When I\nheard the Khalif's words, I replied, 'Know, O Commander of the\nFaithful, that I am the Silent Elder, and am thus called to\ndistinguish me from my six brothers. I am a man of great\nlearning, whilst, as for the gravity of my understanding, the\nexcellence of my apprehension and the spareness of my speech,\nthere is no end to them; and by craft I am a barber. I went out\nearly yesterday morning and saw these ten men making for a boat,\nand thinking they were bound on a party of pleasure, joined\nmyself to them and embarked with them. After awhile, there came\nup the officers, who put chains round their necks and round mine\namongst the rest, but in the excess of my courtesy, I kept\nsilence and did not speak, nor was this other than generosity on\nmy part. Then they brought us before thee and thou didst order\nthe ten robbers' heads to be stricken off; yet did I not make\nmyself known to thee, purely of my great generosity and courtesy,\nwhich led me to share with them in their death. But all my life\nhave I dealt thus nobly with the folk, and they still requite me\nafter the foulest fashion.' When the Khalif heard what I said and\nknew that I was a man of exceeding generosity and few words and\nno meddler (as this young man would have it, whom I rescued from\nhorrors and who has so scurvily repaid me), he laughed so\nimmoderately that he fell backward. Then said he to me, 'O silent\nman, are thy six brothers like thee distinguished for wisdom and\nknowledge and spareness of speech?' 'Never were they like me,'\nanswered I; 'thou dost me injustice, O Commander of the Faithful,\nand it becomes thee not to even my brothers with me: for, of the\nabundance of their speech and their lack of conduct and courtesy,\neach one of them has gotten some bodily defect. One is blind of\nan eye, another paralysed, a third blind, a fourth cropped of the\nears and nose, a fifth crop-lipped and a sixth hunchbacked and a\ncripple. Thou must not think, O Commander of the Faithful, that I\nam a man of many words; but I must needs explain to thee that I\nam a man of greater worth and of fewer words than they. By each\none of my brothers hangs a tale of how he came by his defect,\n[FN#102] and these I will relate to thee. Know then, O Commander\nof the Faithful that\n\n\n\n\n\nStory of the Barber's First Brother.\n\n\n\nMy first brother, the hunchback, was a tailor in Baghdad, and\nplied his craft in a shop, which he hired of a very rich man, who\ndwelt over against him and had a mill in the lower part of the\nhouse. One day, as my brother the hunchback was sitting in his\nshop, sewing, he chanced to raise his head and saw, at the\nbay-window of his landlord's house, a lady like the rising full\nmoon, engaged in looking at the passers-by. His heart was taken\nwith love of her and he passed the day gazing at her and\nneglecting his business, till the evening. Next day, he opened\nhis shop and sat down to sew: but as often as he made a stitch,\nhe looked at the bay-window and saw her as before; and his\npassion and infatuation for her redoubled. On the third day, as\nhe was sitting in his usual place, gazing on her, she caught\nsight of him, and perceiving that he had fallen a captive to her\nlove, smiled in his face, and he smiled back at her. Then she\nwithdrew and sent her slave-girl to him with a parcel of red\nflowered silk. The girl accosted him and said to him, \"My lady\nsalutes thee and would have thee cut out for her, with a skilful\nhand, a shift of this stuff and sew it handsomely.\" \"I hear and\nobey,\" answered he; and cut out the shift and made an end of\nsewing it the same day. Next morning early, the girl came back\nand said to him, \"My mistress salutes thee and would fain know\nhow thou hast passed the night; for she has not tasted sleep by\nreason of her heart being taken up with thee.\" Then she laid\nbefore him a piece of yellow satin and said to him, \"My mistress\nbids thee cut her two pairs of trousers of this stuff and sew\nthem this day.\" \"I hear and obey,\" answered he; \"salute her for\nme with abundant salutation and say to her, 'Thy slave is\nobedient to thy commands so order him as thou wilt.'\" Then he\napplied himself to cut out the trousers and used all diligence in\nsewing them. Presently the lady appeared at the window and\nsaluted him by signs, now casting down her eyes and now smiling\nin his face, so that he made sure of getting his will of her. She\ndid not let him budge till he had finished the two pairs of\ntrousers, when she withdrew and sent the slave-girl, to whom he\ndelivered them, and she took them and went away. When it was\nnight, he threw himself on his bed and tossed from side to side,\ntill morning, when he rose and sat down in his shop. By-and-by,\nthe slave-girl came to him and said, \"My master calls for thee.\"\nWhen he heard this, he was afraid; but the girl, seeing his\nalarm, to him, \"Fear not: nought but good shall befall thee. My\nlady would have thee make acquaintance with my master.\" So my\nbrother rejoiced greatly and went out with her. When he came into\nhis landlord's presence he kissed the earth before him, and the\nlatter returned his salute; then gave him a great piece of linen,\nsaying, \"Make this into shirts for me.\" \"I hear and obey,\"\nreplied my brother, and fell to work at once and cut out twenty\nshirts by nightfall, without stopping to taste food. Then said\nthe husband \"What is thy hire for this?\" \"Twenty dirhems,\"\nanswered my brother. So the man cried out to the slave-girl to\ngive him twenty dirhems; but the lady signed to my brother not to\ntake them, and he said, \"By Allah, I will take nothing from\nthee!\" And took his work and went away, though he was sorely in\nwant of money. Then he applied himself to do their work, eating\nand drinking but little for three days, in his great diligence.\nAt the end of this time, the slave-girl came to him and said,\n\"What hast thou done?\" Quoth he, \"They are finished;\" and carried\nthe shirts to his landlord, who would have paid him his hire; but\nhe said, \"I will take nothing,\" for fear of the lady, and\nreturning to his shop, passed the night without sleep for hunger.\nNow the lady had told her husband how the case stood, and they\nhad agreed to take advantage of his infatuation to make him sew\nfor them for nothing and laugh at him. Next morning, as he sat in\nhis shop, the servant came to him and said, \"My master would\nspeak with thee.\" So he accompanied her to the husband, who said\nto him, \"I wish thee to make me five cassocks.\" So he cut them\nout and took the stuff and went away. Then he sewed them and\ncarried them to the man, who praised his work and offered him a\npurse of money. He put out his hand to take it, but the lady\nsigned to him from behind her husband not to do so, and he\nreplied, \"O my lord, there is no hurry: by-and-by.\" Then he went\nout, more abject than an ass, for verily five things at once were\nsore upon him, love and beggary and hunger and nakedness and\ntoil; nevertheless, he heartened himself with the hope of gaining\nthe lady's favours. When he had made an end of all their work,\nthey put a cheat upon him and married him to their slave-girl.\nbut when he thought to go in to her, they said to him, \"Lie this\nnight in the mill; and to-morrow all will be well.\" My brother\nconcluded that there was some good reason for this and passed the\nnight alone in the mill. Now the husband had set on the miller to\nmake my brother turn the mill; so in the middle of the night, the\nmiller came in and began to say, \"This ox is lazy and stands\nstill and will not turn, and there is much wheat to be ground. So\nI will yoke him and make him finish grinding it this night, for\nthe folk are impatient for their flour.\" Then he filled the\nhoppers with grain and going up to my brother, with a rope in his\nhand, bound him to the yoke and said to him, \"Come, turn the\nmill! Thou thinkest of nothing but eating and voiding.\" Then he\ntook a whip and laid on to my brother, who began to weep and cry\nout; but none came to his aid, and he was forced to grind the\nwheat till near daylight, when the husband came in and seeing him\nyoked to the shaft and the miller flogging him, went away. At\ndaybreak the miller went away and left him still yoked and well\nnigh dead; and soon after in came the slave-girl, who unbound him\nand said to him, \"I am grieved for what has befallen thee, and\nboth I and my lady are full of concern for thee.\" But he had no\ntongue wherewith to answer her, for excess of beating and toil.\nThen he returned to his lodging, and presently the notary who had\ndrawn up the marriage contract came to him and saluted him,\nsaying, \"God give thee long life! May thy marriage be blessed!\nThou hast doubtless passed the night clipping and kissing and\ndalliance from dusk to dawn.\" \"May God curse thee for a liar,\nthousandfold cuckold that thou art!\" replied my brother. \"By\nAllah, I did nothing but turn the mill in the place of the ox all\nnight!\" Quoth the notary, \"Tell me thy story.\" So my brother told\nhim what had happened, and he said, \"Thy star agrees not with\nhers: but if thou wilt, I can alter the contract for thee.\" And\nmy brother answered, \"See if thou have another device.\" Then the\nnotary left him and he sat down in his shop, till some one should\nbring him work by which he might earn his day's bread. Presently\nthe slave-girl came to him and said, \"My mistress would speak\nwith thee.\" \"Go, my good girl,\" replied he; \"I will have no more\nto do with thy mistress.\" So the girl returned to her mistress\nand told her what my brother had said, and presently she put her\nhead out of the window, weeping and saying, \"O my beloved, why\nwilt thou have no more to do with me?\" But he made her no answer.\nThen she swore to him that all that had befallen him in the mill\nwas without her sanction and that she was guiltless of the whole\naffair. When he saw her beauty and grace and heard the sweetness\nof her speech, he forgot what had befallen him and accepted her\nexcuse and rejoiced in her sight. So he saluted her and talked\nwith her and sat at his sewing awhile, after which the servant\ncame to him and said, \"My mistress salutes thee and would have\nthee to know that her husband purposes to lie this night abroad\nwith some intimate friends of his; so when he is gone, do thou\ncome to us and pass the night with her in all delight till the\nmorning.\" Now the man had said to his wile, \"How shall we do to\nturn him away from thee?\" Quoth she, \"Let me play him another\ntrick and make him a byword in the city.\" But my brother knew\nnothing of the malice of women. As soon as it was night, the\nservant came to him and carried him to the house; and when the\nlady saw him, she said to him, \"By Allah, O my lord, I have been\nlonging for thee!\" \"By Allah,\" replied he, \"make haste and give\nme a kiss first of all.\" Hardly had he spoken, when the master of\nthe house came in from an inner room and seized him, saying, \"By\nAllah, I will not let thee go, till I deliver thee to the chief\nof the police.\" My brother humbled himself to him; but he would\nnot listen to him and carried him to the prefect, who gave him a\nhundred lashes with a whip and mounting him on a camel, paraded\nhim about the city, whilst the folk proclaimed aloud, \"This is\nthe punishment of those who violate people's harems!\" Moreover,\nhe fell off the camel and broke his leg and so became lame. Then\nthe prefect banished him from the city and he went forth, not\nknowing whither to turn; but I heard of his mishap and going out\nafter him, brought him back and took him to live with me.'\n\nThe Khalif laughed at my story and said, 'Thou hast done well, O\nSilent One, O man of few words!' and bade me take a present and\ngo away. But I said, 'I will take nothing except I tell thee what\nbefell my other brothers: and do not think me a man of many\nwords. Know, O Commander of the Faithful, that\n\n\n\n\n\nStory of the Barber's Second Brother.\n\n\n\nMy second brother's name was Becbac and he was the paralytic. One\nday, as he was going about his business, an old woman accosted\nhim and said to him, \"Harkye, stop a little, that I may tell thee\nof somewhat, which, if it please thee, thou shalt do for me.\" My\nbrother stopped and she went on, \"I will put thee in the way of a\ncertain thing, so thy words be not many.\" \"Say on,\" replied my\nbrother; and she, \"What sayest thou to a handsome house and a\npleasant garden, with running waters and fruits and wine and a\nfair-faced one to hold in thine arms from dark till dawn?\" \"And\nis all this in the world?\" asked my brother. \"Yes,\" answered she;\n\"and it shall be thine, so thou be reasonable and leave\nimpertinent curiosity and many words and do as I bid thee.\" \"I\nwill well, O my lady,\" rejoined my brother; \"but what made thee\nchoose me of all men for this affair and what is it pleases thee\nin me?\" Quoth she, \"Did I not bid thee be sparing of speech? Hold\nthy peace and follow me. Thou must know that the young lady, to\nwhom I shall carry thee, loves to have her own way and hates to\nbe crossed, so if thou fall in with her humour, thou shalt come\nto thy desire of her.\" And my brother said, \"I will not thwart\nher in aught.\" Then she went on and he followed her, eager to\nenjoy what she had promised him, till she brought him to a fine\nlarge house, richly furnished and full of servants, and carried\nhim to an upper story. When the people of the house saw him, they\nsaid to him, \"What dost thou here?\" But the old woman bade them,\n\"Let him be and trouble him not; for he is a workman and we have\noccasion for him.\" Then she brought him into a fine great\ngallery, with a fair garden in its midst, and made him sit down\nupon a handsome couch. He had not sat long, before he heard a\ngreat noise and in came a troop of damsels, with a lady in their\nmidst, as she were the moon on the night of its full. When he saw\nher, he rose and made an obeisance to her; whereupon she bade him\nwelcome and ordered him to be seated. So he sat down and she said\nto him. \"God advance thee! Is all well with thee?\" \"O my lady,\"\nreplied my brother, \"all is well.\" Then she called for food, and\nthey brought her a table richly served. So she sat down to eat,\nmaking a show of affection to my brother and jesting with him,\nthough all the while she could not keep from laughing: but as\noften as he looked at her, she signed towards the waiting-maids,\nas if she laughed at them. My ass of a brother understood\nnothing, but concluded, in the blindness of his doting, that the\nlady was in love with him and would admit him to his desire. When\nthey had finished eating, they set on wine, and there came in ten\ndamsels like moons, with strung lutes in their hands, and fell a\nsinging right melodiously; whereupon delight got hold upon him\nand he took the cup from the lady's hands and drank it off. Then\nshe drank a cup of wine, and he rose and bowed to her, saying,\n\"Health to thee!\" She filled him another cup and he drank it off,\nand she gave him a cuff on the nape of his neck; whereupon he\nrose and went out in a rage; but the old woman followed him and\nwinked to him to return. So he came back and the lady bade him\nsit, and he sat down without speaking. Then she dealt him a\nsecond cuff, and nothing would serve her but she must make all\nher maids cuff him also. Quoth he to the old woman, \"Never saw I\naught finer than this!\" And she kept saying, \"Enough, enough, I\nconjure thee, O my lady!\" The women cuffed him till he was\nwell-nigh senseless, and he rose and went out again in a rage;\nbut the old woman followed him and said, \"Wait a little, and thou\nshalt come to what thou wishest.\" \"How much longer must I wait?\"\nasked he. \"Indeed I am faint with cuffing.\" \"As soon as she is\nwarm with wine,\" answered she, \"thou shalt have thy desire.\" So\nhe returned to his place and sat down, whereupon all the damsels\nrose and the lady bade them fumigate him and sprinkle rose-water\non his face. Then said she to him, \"God advance thee! Thou hast\nentered my house and submitted to my conditions; for whoso\nthwarts me, I turn him away, but he who is patient has his\ndesire.\" \"O my lady,\" replied he, \"I am thy slave and in the\nhollow of thy hand.\" \"Know then,\" continued she, \"that God has\nmade me passionately fond of frolic, and whoso falls in with my\nhumour comes by what he wishes.\" Then she ordered the damsels to\nsing with loud voices, and they sang, till the whole company was\nin ecstasy: after which she said to one of the maids, \"Take thy\nlord and do what is wanting to him and bring him back to me\nforthright.\" So the damsel took my brother, who knew not what she\nwould do with him; but the old woman came up to him and said, \"Be\npatient; there remains but little to do.\" At this his face\ncleared and he said, \"Tell me what she would have the maid do\nwith me.\" \"Nothing but good,\" replied she, as I am thy ransom.\nShe only wishes to dye thine eyebrows and pluck out thy\nmoustaches.\" Quoth he, \"As for the dyeing of my eyebrows, that\nwill come off with washing, but the plucking out of my moustaches\nwill be irksome.\" \"Beware of crossing her,\" said the old woman;\n\"for her heart is set on thee.\" So my brother suffered them to\ndye his eyebrows and pluck out his moustaches, after which the\ndamsel returned to her mistress and told her. Quoth she, \"There\nis one thing more to be done; thou must shave his chin, that he\nmay be beardless.\" So the maid went back and told my brother what\nher mistress bade her do, whereupon cried my fool of a brother,\n\"How can I do what will dishonour me among the folk?\" But the old\nwoman said, \"She only wishes to do thus with thee, that thou\nmayst be as a beardless youth and that no hair may be left on thy\nface to prick her; for she is passionately in love with thee. Be\npatient and thou shalt attain thy desire.\" So he submitted to\nhave his beard shaved off and his face rouged, after which they\ncarried him back to the lady. When she saw him with his eyebrows\ndyed, his whiskers and moustaches plucked out, his beard shaved\noff and his face rouged, she was affrighted at him, then laughed\ntill she fell backward and said, \"O my lord, thou hast won my\nheart with thy good nature!\" Then she conjured him, by her life,\nto rise and dance; so he began to dance, and there was not a\ncushion in the place but she threw it at him, whilst the damsels\npelted him with oranges and limes and citrons, till he fell down\nsenseless. When he came to himself, the old woman said to him,\n\"Now thou hast attained thy desire. There is no more beating for\nthee and there remains but one thing more. It is her wont, when\nshe is heated with wine, to let no one have to do with her till\nshe put off her clothes and remain stark naked. Then she will bid\nthee strip, in like manner, and run before thee from place to\nplace, as if she fled from thee, and thou after her, till thy\nyard be in good point, when she will stop and give herself up to\nthee. So now rise and put off thy clothes.\" So he rose, well-nigh\nbeside himself, and stripped himself stark naked; whereupon the\nlady stripped also and saying to my brother, \"Follow me, if thou\ndesire aught,\" set off running in at one place and out at another\nand he after her, transported for desire, till his yard rose, as\nhe were mad. Presently she entered a dark passage, and in\nfollowing her, he trod upon a soft place, which gave way with\nhim, and before he knew where he was, he found himself in the\nmidst of the market of the fell-mongers, who were calling skins\nfor sale and buying and selling. When they saw him in this\nplight, naked, with yard on end, shaven face, dyed eyebrows and\nrouged cheeks, they cried out and clapped their hands at him and\nflogged him with skins upon his naked body, till he swooned away;\nwhen they set him on an ass and carried him to the chief of the\npolice, who said, \"What is this?\" Quoth they, \"This fellow came\nout upon us from the Vizier's house, in this plight.\" So the\nprefect gave him a hundred lashes and banished him from Baghdad.\nHowever, I went out after him and brought him back privily into\nthe city and made him an allowance for his living, though, but\nfor my generous disposition, I had not put up with such a fellow.\n\n\n\n\n\nStory of the Barber's Third Brother\n\n\n\nThe name of my third brother was Fekic and he was blind. One day,\nchance and destiny led him to a great house and he knocked at the\ndoor, desiring speech of the owner, that he might beg of him\nsomewhat. Quoth the master of the house, \"Who is at the door?\"\nBut my brother was silent and heard him repeat, in a loud voice,\n\"Who is there?\" Still he made no answer and presently heard the\nmaster come to the door and open it and say, \"What dost thou\nwant?\" \"Charity,\" replied my brother, \"for the love of God the\nMost High!\" \"Art thou blind?\" asked the man; and my brother said,\n\"Yes.\" Quoth the other, \"Give me thy hand.\" So my brother put out\nhis hand, thinking that he would give him something; but he took\nit and drawing him into the house, carried him up, from stair to\nstair, till they reached the housetop, my brother thinking the\nwhile that he would surely give him food or money. Then said\nhe to my brother, \"What dost thou want, O blind man?\" \"Charity,\nfor the love of God!\" repeated my brother. \"God succour\nthee!\"[FN#103] answered the master of the house. \"O man,\"\nanswered my brother, \"why couldst thou not tell me this\ndownstairs?\" \"O loser,\" answered he, \"why didst thou not answer\nme, when I asked who was at the door?\" Quoth my brother, \"What\nwilt thou with me now?\" And the other replied, \"I have nothing to\ngive thee.\" \"Then take me down again,\" said my brother. But he\nanswered, \"The way lies before thee.\" So my brother rose and made\nhis way down the stairs, till he came within twenty steps of the\ndoor, when his foot slipped and he rolled to the bottom and broke\nhis head. Then he went out, knowing not whither to turn, and\npresently fell in with other two blind men, comrades of his, who\nenquired how he had fared that day. He told them what had passed\nand said to them, \"O my brothers, I wish to take some of the\nmoney in my hands and provide my self with it.\" Now the master of\nthe house had followed him and heard what they said, but neither\nmy brother nor his fellows knew of this. So my brother went on to\nhis lodging and sat down to await his comrades, and the owner of\nthe house entered after him without his knowledge. When the other\nblind men arrived, my brother said to them, \"Shut the door and\nsearch the house, lest any stranger have followed us.\" The\nintruder, hearing this, caught hold of a rope that hung from the\nceiling and clung to it, whilst the blind men searched the whole\nplace, but found nothing. So they came back and sitting down\nbeside my brother, brought out their money, which they counted,\nand lo, it was twelve thousand dirhems. Each took what he wanted\nand the rest they buried in a corner of the room. Then they set\non food and sat down to eat. Presently my brother heard a strange\npair of jaws wagging at his side; so he said to his comrades,\n\"There is a stranger amongst us;\" and putting out his hand,\ncaught hold of that of the intruder. Therewith they all fell on\nhim and beat him, crying out, \"O Muslims, a thief is come in to\nus, seeking to take our property!\" So much people flocked to\nthem, whereupon the owner of the house caught hold of the blind\nmen and shutting his eyes, feigned to be blind like unto them, so\nthat none doubted of it. Then he complained of them, even as they\nof him, crying out, \"O Muslims, I appeal to God and the Sultan\nand the chief of the police! I have a grave matter to make known\nto the chief of the police.\" At this moment, up came the watch\nand seizing them all, dragged them before the chief of the\npolice, who enquired what was the matter. Quoth the spy, \"See\nhere; thou shalt come at nought except by torture: so begin by\nbeating me, and after me, beat this my captain.\" And he pointed\nto my brother. So they threw the man down and gave him four\nhundred strokes on the backside. The beating pained him, and he\nopened one eye; and as they redoubled their blows, he opened the\nother. When the chief of the police saw this, he said to him,\n\"What is this, O accursed one?\" \"Give me the seal-ring of\npardon!\" replied he. \"We are four who feign ourselves blind and\nimpose upon people, that we may enter houses and gaze upon women\nand contrive for their corruption. In this way, we have gotten\nmuch money, even twelve thousand dirhems. So I said to my\ncomrades, 'Give me my share, three thousand dirhems.' But they\nfell on me and beat me and took away my money, and I appeal to\nGod and thee for protection; better thou have my share than they.\nSo, an thou wouldst know the truth of my words, beat each of the\nothers more than thou hast beaten me and he will surely open his\neyes.\" The prefect bade begin with my brother: so they bound him\nto the whipping-post,[FN#104] and the prefect said, \"O rascals,\ndo ye abjure the gracious gifts of God and pretend to be blind?\"\n\"Allah! Allah!\" cried my brother, \"by Allah, there is not one\namongst us who can see!\" Then they beat him, till he fainted and\nthe prefect said, \"Leave him till he revives and then beat him\nagain.\" And he caused each of the others to be beaten with more\nthan three hundred blows, whilst the sham blind man stood by,\nsaying to them, \"Open your eyes, or you will be beaten anew.\"\nThen he said to the prefect, \"Send some one with me to fetch the\nmoney, for these fellows will not open their eyes, lest they be\nput to shame before the folk.\" So the prefect sent to fetch the\nmoney and gave the impostor three thousand dirhems to his\npretended share. The rest he took for himself and banished the\nthree blind men from the city. But, O Commander of the Faithful,\nI went out and overtaking my brother, questioned him of his case;\nwhereupon he told me what I have told thee. So I carried him back\nprivily into the city and appointed him in secret wherewithal to\neat and drink.' The Khalif laughed at my story and said, 'Give\nhim a present and let him go.' By Allah,' rejoined I, 'I will\ntake nothing till I have made known to the Commander of the\nFaithful what happened to my other brothers, for I am a man of\nfew words.' Then I went on as follows\n\n\n\n\n\nStory of the Barber's Fourth Brother.\n\n\n\n'My fourth brother, the one-eyed, was a butcher at Baghdad, who\nsold meat and reared rams; and the notables and men of wealth\nused to buy meat of him, so that he amassed much wealth and got\nhim cattle and houses. He fared thus a long while' till one day,\nas he was sitting in his shop, there came up to him an old man\nwith a long beard, who laid down some money and said, \"Give me\nmeat for this.\" So he gave him his money's worth of meat, and the\nold man went away. My brother looked at the money he had paid\nhim, and seeing that it was brilliantly white, laid it aside by\nitself. The old man continued to pay him frequent visits for five\nmonths, and my brother threw the money he received from him into\na chest by itself. At the end of this time, he thought to take\nout the money to buy sheep; so he opened the chest, but found in\nit nothing but white paper, cut round. When he saw this, he\nbuffeted his face and cried out, till the folk came round him and\nhe told them his story, at which they wondered. Then he rose, as\nof his wont, and slaughtering a ram, hung it up within the shop;\nafter which he cut off some of the meat and hung it up outside,\nsaying the while, \"Would God that pestilent old man would come!\"\nAnd surely before long up came the old man, with his money in his\nhand; whereupon my brother rose and caught hold of him, crying\nout, \"Come to my help, O Muslims, and hear what befell me with\nthis scoundrel!\" When the old man heard this, he said to him, \"An\nthou loose me not, I will expose thee before the folk!\" \"In what\nwilt thou expose me?\" asked my brother, and the other replied,\n\"In that thou sellest man's flesh for mutton.\" \"Thou liest, O\naccursed one!\" cried my brother: and the old man said, \"He is the\naccursed one who has a man hanging up in his shop.\" \"If it be as\nthou sayest,\" rejoined my brother, \"I give thee leave to take my\nproperty and my life.\" Then said the old man, \"Ho, people of the\ncity! an ye would prove the truth of my words, enter this man's\nshop.\" So they rushed into the shop, when they saw the ram was\nbecome a dead man hanging up and seized on my brother, crying\nout, \"O infidel! O villain!\" And his best friends fell to beating\nhim and saying, \"Dost thou give us man's flesh to eat?\" Moreover,\nthe old man struck him on the eye and put it out. Then they\ncarried the carcase to the chief of the police, to whom said the\nold man, \"O Amir, this fellow slaughters men and sells their\nflesh for mutton, and we have brought him to thee; so arise and\nexecute the justice of God, to whom belong might and majesty!\" My\nbrother would have defended himself, but the prefect refused to\nhear him and sentenced him to receive five hundred blows with a\nstick and to forfeit all his property. And indeed, but for his\nwealth, they had put him to death. Then he banished him from the\ncity and my brother fared forth at a venture, till he came to a\ngreat city, where he thought well to set up as a cobbler. So he\nopened a shop and fell to working for his living. One day, as he\nwent on an occasion, he heard the tramp of horse, and enquiring\nthe cause, was told that the King was going out to hunt and\nstopped to look on his state. It chanced that the King's eye met\nhis, whereupon he bowed his head, saying, \"I take refuge with God\nfrom the evil of this day!\" And drawing bridle, rode back to his\npalace, followed by his retinue. Then he gave an order to his\nguards, who seized my brother and beat him grievously, till he\nwas well-nigh dead, without telling him the reason: after which\nhe returned to his shop, in a sorry plight, and told one of the\nKing's household, who laughed till he fell backward and said to\nhim, \"O my brother, know that the King cannot endure the sight of\na one-eyed man; especially if he be blind of the left eye, in\nwhich case, he does not let him go without killing him.\" When my\nbrother heard this, he resolved to fly that city, so went forth\nand repaired to another country, where he was known of none. Here\nhe abode a long while, till one day, being heavy at heart for\nwhat had befallen him, he went out to divert himself. As he was\nwalking along, he heard the tramp of horse behind him; whereupon\nhe exclaimed, \"The judgment of God is upon me!\" and looked out\nfor a hiding-place, but found none. At last he saw a closed door,\nand pushing against it, it yielded and he found himself in a long\ncorridor, in which he took refuge. Hardly had he done so, when\ntwo men laid hold of him, exclaiming, \"Praise be to God, who hath\ndelivered thee into our hands, O enemy of Allah! These three\nnights thou hast bereft us of sleep and given us no peace and\nmade us taste the agonies of death!\" \"O folk,\" said my brother,\n\"what ails you?\" And they answered, \"Thou givest us the change\nand goest about to dishonour us and to murder the master of the\nhouse! Is it not enough that thou hast brought him to beggary,\nthou and thy comrades? But give us up the knife, wherewith thou\nthreatenest us every night.\" Then they searched him and found in\nhis girdle the knife he used to cut leather; and he said, \"O\nfolk, have the fear of God before your eyes and maltreat me not,\nfor know that my story is a strange one.\" \"What is thy story?\"\nasked they. So he told them what had befallen him, hoping that\nthey would let him go; however, they paid no heed to what he\nsaid, but beat him and tore off his clothes, and finding on his\nsides the marks of beating with rods, said, \"O accursed one,\nthese scars bear witness to thy guilt!\" Then they carried him to\nthe chief of the police, whilst he said to himself, \"I am undone\nfor my sins and none can save me but God the Most High!\" The\nprefect said to him, \"O villain, what made thee enter their house\nwith murderous intent?\" \"O Amir,\" replied my brother, \"I conjure\nthee by Allah, hear my words and hasten not to condemn me!\" But\nthe two men said to the prefect, \"Wilt thou listen to a robber,\nwho beggars the folk and has the scars of beating on his back?\"\nWhen the Amir saw the scars on my brother's sides, he said to\nhim, \"They had not done this to thee, save for some great crime.\"\nAnd he sentenced him to receive a hundred lashes. So they flogged\nhim and mounting him on a camel, paraded him about the city,\ncrying out, \"This is the reward and the least of the reward of\nthose who break into people's houses!\" Then they thrust him forth\nthe city, and he wandered at random, till I heard what had\nbefallen him and going in search of him, questioned him of his\ncase. So he told me all that passed and I carried him back\nprivily to Baghdad, where I made him an allowance for his living.\n\n\n\n\n\nStory of the Barber's Fifth Brother.\n\n\n\nMy fifth brother, he of the cropt ears, O Commander of the\nFaithful, was a poor man, who used to ask alms by night and live\nby day on what he got thus. Now, our father, who was an old man,\nfar advanced in years, fell sick and died, leaving us seven\nhundred dirhems. So we took each of us a hundred; but when my\nbrother received his share, he was at a loss to know what to do\nwith it, till he bethought him to buy glass of all sorts and sell\nit at a profit. So he bought a hundred dirhems' worth of glass\nand putting it in a great basket, sat down, to sell it, on a\nraised bench, at the foot of a wall, against which he leant his\nback. As he sat, with the basket before him: he fell to musing in\nhimself and said, \"I have laid out a hundred dirhems on this\nglass and I will sell it for two hundred, with which I will buy\nother glass and sell it for four hundred; nor will I cease to\nbuy and sell thus, till I have gotten much wealth. With this I\nwill buy all kinds of merchandise and jewels and perfumes and\ngain great profit on them, till, God willing, I will make my\ncapital a hundred thousand dirhems. Then I will buy a handsome\nhouse, together with slaves and horses and trappings of gold,\nand eat and drink, nor will I leave a singing-man or woman in\nthe city but I will have them to sing to me. As soon as I have\namassed a hundred thousand dirhems,[FN#105] I will send out\nmarriage-brokers to demand for me in marriage the daughters of\nkings and viziers; and I will seek the hand of the Vizier's\ndaughter, for I hear that she is perfect in beauty and of\nsurpassing grace. I will give her a dowry of a thousand dinars,\nand if her father consent, well; if not, I will take her by\nforce, in spite of him. When I return home, I will buy ten little\neunuchs and clothes for myself such as are worn by kings and\nsultans and get me a saddle of gold, set thick with jewels of\nprice. Then I will mount and parade the city, with slaves before\nand behind me, whilst the folk salute me and call down blessings\nupon me: after which I will repair to the Vizier, the girl's\nfather, with slaves behind and before me, as well as on my either\nhand. When he sees me, he will rise and seating me in his own\nplace, sit down below me, for that I am his son-in-law. Now I\nwill have with me two eunuchs with purses, in each a thousand\ndinars, and I will deliver him the thousand dinars of the dowry\nand make him a present of other thousand, that he may have cause\nto know my nobility and generosity and greatness of mind and the\nlittleness of the world in my eyes; and for ten words he proffers\nme, I will answer him two. Then I will return to my house, and if\none come to me on the bride's part, I will make him a present of\nmoney and clothe him in a robe of honour; but if he bring me a\npresent, I will return it to him and will not accept it, that\nthey may know that I am great of soul. Then I will command them\nto bring her to me in state and will order my house fittingly in\nthe meantime. When the time of the unveiling is come, I will don\nmy richest clothes and sit down on a couch of brocaded silk,\nleaning on a cushion and turning neither to the right nor to the\nleft, for the haughtiness of my mind and the gravity of my\nunderstanding. My wife shall stand before me like the full moon,\nin her robes and ornaments, and I, of my pride and my disdain,\nwill not look at her, till all who are present shall say to me,\n'O my lord, thy wife and thy handmaid stands before thee: deign\nto look upon her! for standing is irksome to her.' And they will\nkiss the earth before me many times, whereupon I will lift my\neyes and give one glance at her, then bend down my head again.\nThen they will carry her to the bride-chamber, and meanwhile I\nwill rise and change my clothes for a richer suit. When they\nbring in the bride for the second time, I will not look at her\ntill they have implored me several times, when I will glance at\nher and bow down my head; nor will I leave to do thus, till they\nhave made an end of displaying her, when I will order one of my\neunuchs to fetch a purse of five hundred dinars and giving it to\nthe tire-women, command them to lead me to the bride-chamber.\nWhen they leave me alone with the bride, I will not look at her\nor speak to her, but will lie by her with averted face, that she\nmay say I am high of soul. Presently her mother will come to me\nand kiss my head and hands and say to me, 'O my lord, look on thy\nhandmaid, for she longs for thy favour, and heal her spirit. But\nI will give her no answer; and when she sees this, she will come\nand kiss my feet repeatedly and say, 'O my lord, verily my\ndaughter is a beautiful girl, who has never seen man; and if thou\nshow her this aversion, her heart will break; so do thou incline\nto her and speak to her.' Then she will rise and fetch a cup of\nwine, and her daughter will take it and come to me; but I will\nleave her standing before me, whilst I recline upon a cushion of\ncloth of gold, and will not look at her for the haughtiness of my\nheart, so that she will think me to be a Sultan of exceeding\ndignity and will say to me, 'O my lord, for God's sake, do not\nrefuse to take the cup from thy servant's hand, for indeed I am\nthy handmaid.' But I will not speak to her, and she will press\nme, saying, 'Needs must thou drink it,' and put it to my lips.\nThen I will shake my fist in her face and spurn her with my foot\nthus.\" So saying, he gave a kick with his foot and knocked over\nthe basket of glass, which fell to the ground, and all that was\nin it was broken. \"All this comes of my pride!\" cried he, and\nfell to buffeting his face and tearing his clothes and weeping.\nThe folk who were going to the Friday prayers saw him, and some\nof them looked at him and pitied him, whilst others paid no heed\nto him, and in this way my brother lost both capital and profit.\nPresently there came up a beautiful lady, on her way to the\nFriday prayers, riding on a mule with a saddle of gold and\nattended by a number of servants and filling the air with the\nscent of musk, as she passed along. When she saw the broken glass\nand my brother weeping, she was moved to pity for him; so she\nasked what ailed him and was told that he had a basket full of\nglass, by the sale of which he thought to make his living, but it\nwas broken, and this was the cause of his distress. So she called\none of her attendants and said to him, \"Give this poor man what\nis with thee.\" And he gave my brother a purse in which he found\nfive hundred dinars, whereupon he was like to die for excess of\njoy and called down blessings on her. Then he returned to his\nhouse, a rich man; and as he sat considering, some one knocked at\nthe door. So he rose and opened and saw an old woman whom he knew\nnot. \"O my son,\" said she, \"the time of prayer is at hand, and I\nhave not yet made the ablution; so I beg thee to let me do so in\nthy house.\" \"I hear and obey,\" replied he, and bade her come in.\nSo she entered and he brought her an ewer, wherewith to wash, and\nsat down, beside himself for joy in the dinars When she had made\nan end of her ablutions, she came up to where he sat and prayed a\ntwo-bow prayer, after which she offered up a goodly prayer my\nbrother, who thanked her and putting his hand to the bag of\nmoney, gave her two dinars, saying in himself, \"This is an alms\nfrom me.\" \"Glory to God!\" exclaimed she. \"Why dost thou look on\none, who loves thee, as if she were a beggar? Put up thy money! I\nhave no need of it; or if thou want it not, return it to her who\ngave it thee, when thy glass was broken.\" \"O my mother,\" asked\nhe, \"how shall I do to come at her?\" \"O my son,\" replied she,\n\"she hath an inclination for thee, but she is the wife of a\nwealthy man of the city; so take all thy money with thee and\nfollow me, that I may guide thee to thy desire: and when thou art\nin company with her, spare neither fair words nor persuasion, and\nthou shalt enjoy her beauty and her wealth to thy heart's\ncontent.\" So my brother took all his money and rose and followed\nthe old woman, hardly believing in his good fortune. She led him\non till they came to the door of a great house, at which she\nknocked, and a Greek slave-girl came out and opened to them. Then\nthe old woman took my brother and brought him into a great\nsaloon, spread with magnificent carpets and hung with curtains,\nwhere he sat down, with his money before him and his turban on\nhis knee. Presently in came a young lady richly dressed, never\nsaw eyes handsomer than she; whereupon my brother rose to his\nfeet, but she smiled upon him and welcoming him, signed to him to\nbe seated. Then she bade shut the door and taking my brother by\nthe hand, led him to a private chamber, furnished with various\nkinds of brocaded silk. Here he sat down and she seated herself\nby his side and toyed with him awhile; after which she rose and\nsaying, \"Do not stir till I come back,\" went away. After awhile,\nin came a great black slave, with a drawn sword in his hand, who\nsaid to him, \"Woe to thee! who brought thee hither and what dost\nthou want?\" My brother could make no answer, being tongue-tied\nfor fear; so the black seized him and stripping him of his\nclothes, beat him with the flat of his sword till he swooned\naway. Then the pestilent black concluded that he was dead, and my\nbrother heard him say, \"Where is the salt-wench?\" Whereupon in\ncame a slave-girl, with a great dish of salt, and the black\nstrewed salt upon my brother's wounds; but he did not stir, lest\nhe should know that he was alive and finish him. Then the\nsalt-girl went away and the black cried out, \"Where is the\ncellaress?\" With this in came the old woman, and taking my\nbrother by the feet, dragged him to an underground vault, where\nshe threw him down upon a heap of dead bodies. There he remained\ntwo whole days, but God made the salt the means of saving his\nlife, for it stayed the flow of blood. Presently, he found\nhimself strong enough to move; so he rose and opening the\ntrap-door, crept out fearfully; and God protected him, so that he\nwent on in the darkness and hid himself in the vestibule till the\nmorning, when he saw the cursed old woman sally forth in quest of\nother prey. So he went out after her, without her knowledge, and\nmade for his own house, where he dressed his wounds and tended\nhimself till he was whole. Meanwhile he kept a watch upon the old\nwoman and saw her accost one man after another and carry them to\nthe house. However, he said nothing; but as soon as he regained\nhealth and strength, he took a piece of stuff and made it into a\nbag, which he filled with broken glass and tied to his middle.\nThen he disguised himself in the habit of a foreigner, that none\nmight know him, and hid a sword under his clothes. Then he went\nout and presently falling in with the old woman, accosted her and\nsaid to her, with a foreign accent, \"O dame, I am a stranger, but\nthis day arrived here, and know no one. Hast thou a pair of\nscales wherein I may weigh nine hundred dinars? I will give\nthee somewhat of the money for thy pains.\" \"I have a son, a\nmoneychanger,\" replied she, \"who has all kinds of scales; so come\nwith me to him, before he goes out, and he will weigh thy gold\nfor thee.\" And he said, \"Lead the way.\" So she led him to the\nhouse and knocked at the door; and the young lady herself came\nout and opened it; whereupon the old woman smiled in her face,\nsaying, \"I bring thee fat meat to-day.\" Then the damsel took him\nby the hand and carrying him to the same chamber as before, sat\nwith him awhile, then rose and went out, bidding him stir not\ntill she came back. Ere long in came the villainous black, with\nhis sword drawn, and said to my brother, \"Rise, O accursed one!\"\nSo he rose and as the slave went on before him, he drew the sword\nfrom under his clothes and smiting him with it, made his head fly\nfrom his body; after which he dragged the corpse by the feet to\nthe vault and cried out, \"Where is the salt-wench?\" Up came the\ngirl with the dish of salt, and seeing my brother sword in hand,\nturned to fly; but he followed her and smote her and struck off\nher head. Then he called out, \"Where is the cellaress?\" And in\ncame the old woman, to whom said he, \"Dost thou know me, O\npestilent old woman?\" \"No, my lord,\" replied she; and he said, \"I\nam he of the five hundred dinars, to whose house thou camest to\nmake the ablution and pray, and whom thou didst after lure\nhither.\" \"Fear God and spare me!\" exclaimed she. But he paid no\nheed to her and striking her with the sword, cut her in four.\nThen he went in search of the young lady; and when she saw him,\nher reason fled and she called out for mercy. So he spared her\nand said to her, \"How camest thou to consort with this black?\"\nQuoth she, \"I was slave to a certain merchant and the old woman\nused to visit me, till I became familiar with her. One day she\nsaid to me, 'We have to-day a wedding at our house, the like of\nwhich was never beheld, and I wish thee to see it.' 'I hear and\nobey,' answered I, and rising, donned my handsomest clothes and\njewellery and took with me a purse containing a hundred dinars.\nThen she brought me hither, and hardly had I entered the house,\nwhen the black seized on me, and I have remained in this case\nthese three years, through the perfidy of the accursed old\nwoman.\" Then said my brother, \"Is there aught of his in the\nhouse?\" \"He had great store of wealth,\" replied she: \"and if thou\ncanst carry it away, do so, and may God prosper it to thee!\" Then\nshe opened to him several chests full of purses, at which he was\nconfounded, and said to him, \"Go now and leave me here and fetch\nmen to carry off the money.\" So he went out and hired ten men,\nbut, when he returned, he found the door open and the damsel\ngone, and nothing left but a little of the money and the\nhousehold stuff. By this, he knew that she had cheated him; so he\nopened the closets and took what was in them, together with the\nrest of the money, leaving nothing in the house, and passed the\nnight in all content. When he arose in the morning, he found at\nthe door a score of troopers, who seized him, saying, \"The chief\nof the police seeks for thee.\" My brother implored them to let\nhim return to his house, but they would grant him no delay,\nthough he offered them a large sum of money, and binding him fast\nwith cords, carried him off. On the way, there met them a friend\nof my brother, who clung to his skirts and implored him to stop\nand help to deliver him from their hands. So he stopped and\nenquired what was the matter; to which they replied, \"The chief\nof the police has ordered us to bring this man before him, and we\nare doing so.\" The man interceded with them and offered them five\nhundred dinars to let my brother go, saying, \"Tell the magistrate\nthat ye could not find him.\" But they refused and dragged him\nbefore the prefect, who said to him, \"Whence hadst thou these\nstuffs and money?\" Quoth my brother, \"Grant me indemnity.\" So the\nmagistrate gave him the handkerchief of pardon, and he told him\nall that had befallen him, from first to last, including the\nflight of the damsel, adding, \"Take what thou wilt, so thou leave\nme enough to live on.\" But the prefect took the whole of the\nstuff and money for himself and fearing lest the affair should\nreach the Sultan's ears, said to my brother, \"Depart from this\ncity, or I will hang thee.\" \"I hear and obey,\" replied my\nbrother, and set out for another town. On the way thieves fell on\nhim and stripped him and beat him and cut off his ears. But I\nheard of his misfortunes and went out after him, taking him\nclothes, and brought him back privily to the city, where I made\nhim an allowance for meat and drink.\n\n\n\n\n\nStory of the Barber's Sixth Brother\n\n\n\nMy sixth brother, he of the cropt lips, O Commander of the\nFaithful, was once rich, but after became poor. One day he went\nout to seek somewhat to keep life in him and came presently to a\nhandsome house, with a wide and lofty portico and servants and\nothers at the door, ordering and forbidding. My brother enquired\nof one of those standing there and he told him that the house\nbelonged to one of the Barmecide family. So he accosted the\ndoor-keepers and begged an alms of them. \"Enter,\" said they, \"and\nthou shalt get what thou seekest of our master.\" Accordingly, he\nentered and passing through the vestibule, found himself in a\nmansion of the utmost beauty and elegance, paved with marble and\nhung with curtains and having in the midst a garden whose like he\nhad never seen. He stood awhile perplexed, knowing not whither to\ndirect his steps: then seeing the door of a sitting-chamber,\nhe entered and saw at the upper end a man of comely presence\nand goodly beard. When the latter saw my brother, he rose and\nwelcomed him and enquired how he did; to which he replied that he\nwas in need of charity. Whereupon the other showed great concern\nand putting his hand to his clothes, rent them, exclaiming, \"Art\nthou hungry in a city of which I am an inhabitant? I cannot\nendure this!\" and promised him all manner of good. Then said he,\n\"Thou must eat with me.\" \"O my lord,\" replied my brother, \"I can\nwait no longer; for I am sore an hungred.\" So, the Barmecide\ncried out, \"Ho, boy! bring the ewer and the basin!\" and said to\nmy brother, \"O my guest, come forward and wash thy hands.\" My\nbrother rose to do so, but saw neither ewer nor basin. However,\nthe host made as if he were washing his hands and cried out,\n\"Bring the table.\" But my brother saw nothing. Then said the\nBarmecide, \"Honour me by eating of this food and be not ashamed.\"\nAnd he made as if he ate, saying the while, \"Thou eatest but\nlittle: do not stint thyself, for I know thou art famished.\"\nSo my brother began to make as if he ate, whilst the other said\nto him, \"Eat and note the excellence of this bread and its\nwhiteness.\" My brother could see nothing and said to himself,\n\"This man loves to jest with the folk.\" So he replied, \"O my\nlord, never in my life have I seen whiter or more delicious\nbread.\" And the host said, \"I gave five hundred dinars for the\nslave-girl who bakes it for me.\" Then he called out, \"Ho, boy!\nbring the frumenty first and do not spare butter on it.\" And\nturning to my brother, \"O my guest,\" said he, \"sawst thou ever\naught better than this frumenty? Eat, I conjure thee, and be not\nashamed!\" Then he cried out again, \"Ho, boy! bring in the pasty\nwith the fatted grouse in it.\" And he said to my brother, \"Eat, O\nmy guest, for thou art hungry and needest it.\" So my brother\nbegan to move his jaws and make as if he chewed; whilst the other\nceased not to call for dish after dish and press my brother to\neat, though not a thing appeared. Presently, he cried out, \"Ho,\nboy I bring us the chickens stuffed with pistachio-kernels!\"\nAnd said to my brother, \"These chickens have been fattened on\npistachio-nuts; eat, for thou hast never tasted the like of\nthem.\" \"O my lord,\" replied my brother, \"they are indeed\nexcellent.\" Then the host feigned to put his hand to my brother's\nmouth, as if to feed him, and ceased not to name various dishes\nand expatiate upon their excellence. Meanwhile my brother was\nstarving, and hunger was so sore on him that his soul lusted for\na cake of barley bread. Quoth the Barmecide, \"Didst thou ever\ntaste aught more delicious than the seasoning of these dishes?\"\n\"Never, O my lord,\" replied my brother. \"Eat heartily and be not\nashamed,\" repeated the host. \"O my lord,\" said my brother, \"I\nhave had enough of meat.\" So the Barmecide cried out, \"Take away\nand bring the sweetmeats.\" Then he said, \"Eat of this almond\nconserve, for it is excellent, and of these fritters. My life on\nthee, take this one before the syrup runs out of it!\" \"May I\nnever be bereaved of thee, O my lord!\" replied my brother, and\nasked him of the abundance of musk in the fritters. \"It is my\ncustom,\" said the other, \"to have three pennyweights of musk and\nhalf that quantity of ambergris put into each fritter.\" All\nthis time my brother was wagging his jaws and moving his head\nand mouth, till the host said, \"Enough of this! Bring us the\ndessert.\" Then said he to him, \"Eat of these almonds and walnuts\nand raisins and of this and that,\" naming different kinds of\ndried fruits, \"and be not ashamed.\" \"O my lord,\" answered my\nbrother, \"indeed I am full: I can eat no more.\" \"O my guest,\"\nrepeated the other, \"if thou have a mind to eat more, for God's\nsake do not remain hungry!\" \"O my lord,\" replied my brother, \"how\nshould one who has eaten of all these dishes be hungry?\" Then he\nconsidered and said to himself \"I will do that which shall make\nhim repent of having acted thus.\" Presently the host called out,\n\"Bring me the wine,\" and making as if it had come, feigned to\ngive my brother to drink, saying, \"Take this cup, and if it\nplease thee, let me know.\" \"O my lord,\" replied he, \"it has a\npleasant smell, but I am used to drink old wine twenty years of\nage.\" \"Then knock at this door,\"[FN#106] said his host; \"for thou\ncanst not drink of aught better.\" \"O my lord, this is of thy\nbounty!\" replied my brother and made as if he drank. \"Health and\npleasure to thee!\" exclaimed the host, and feigned, in like wise,\nto fill a cup and drink it off and hand a second cup to my\nbrother, who pretended to drink and made as if he were drunken.\nThen he took the Barmecide unawares and raising his arm, till the\nwhiteness of his arm-pit appeared, dealt him such a buffet on the\nneck that the place rang to it. Then he gave him a second cuff\nand the host exclaimed, \"What is this, O vile fellow?\" \"O my\nlord,\" replied my brother \"thou hast graciously admitted thy\nslave into thine abode and fed him with thy victual and plied him\nwith old wine, till he became drunk and dealt unmannerly by thee;\nbut thou art too noble not to bear with his ignorance and pardon\nhis offence.\" When the Barmecide heard my brother's words, he\nlaughed heartily and exclaimed, \"Long have I used to make mock of\nmen and play the fool with those who are apt at jesting and\nhorse-play; but never have I come across any, who had patience\nand wit to enter into all my humours, but thee; so I pardon thee,\nand now thou shalt be my boon companion, in very deed, and never\nleave me.\" Then he bade his servants lay the table in good\nearnest, and they set on all the dishes of which he had spoken,\nand he and my brother ate till they were satisfied, after which\nthey removed to the drinking-chamber, where they found damsels\nlike moons, who sang all manner of songs and played on all kinds\nof musical instruments. There they remained, drinking, till\ndrunkenness overcame them, and the host used my brother as a\nfamiliar friend, so that he became as it were his brother, and\nbestowed on him a dress of honour and loved him with an exceeding\nlove. Next morning, they fell again to feasting and carousing,\nand ceased not to lead this life for twenty years, at the end of\nwhich time the Barmecide died and the Sultan laid hands on all\nhis property and squeezed my brother, till he stripped him of all\nhe had. So he left the city and fled forth at random, but the\nArabs fell on him midway and taking him prisoner, carried him to\ntheir camp, where the Bedouin, his captor, tortured him, saying,\n\"Ransom thyself with money, or I will kill thee.\" My brother fell\na-weeping and replied, \"By Allah, I have nought! I am thy\nprisoner; do with me as thou wilt.\" Thereupon the Bedouin took\nout a knife and cut off my brother's lips, still urging his\ndemand. Now this Bedouin had a handsome wife, who used to make\nadvances to my brother, in her husband's absence, and offer him\nher favours, but he held off from her. One day, she began to\ntempt him as usual, and he toyed with her and took her on his\nknee, when lo, in came the Bedouin, and seeing this, cried out,\n\"Woe to thee, thou villain! Wouldst thou debauch my wife?\" Then\nhe took out a knife and cut off my brother's yard, after which he\nset him on a camel and carried him to a mountain, where he threw\nhim down and left him. Here he was found by some travellers, who\nrecognized him and gave him meat and drink and acquainted me with\nhis plight, whereupon I went forth to him and brought him back to\nBaghdad, where I provided him with enough to live on. This then,\nO Commander of the Faithful, is the history of my brothers, and I\nwas unwilling to go away without relating it to thee, that I\nmight disabuse thee of thine error in confounding me with them.\nAnd now thou knowest that I have six brothers and support them\nall.' When the Khalif heard my words, he laughed and said, 'Thou\nsayst sooth, O Silent One! Thou art neither a man of many words\nnor an impertinent meddler; but now go out from this city and\nsettle in another.' And he banished me from the city; so I left\nBaghdad and travelled in foreign countries, till I heard of his\ndeath and the coming of another to the Khalifate. Then I returned\nto Baghdad, where I found my brothers dead and fell in with this\nyoung man, to whom I rendered the best of services, for without\nme he had been killed. Indeed he accuses me of what is foreign to\nmy nature and what he relates of my impertinence is false; for\nverily I left Baghdad on his account and wandered in many\ncountries, till I came to this city and happened on him with you;\nand was not this, O good people, of the generosity of my nature?\"\n\nWhen we heard the barber's story (continued the tailor) and saw\nthe abundance of his speech and the way in which he had oppressed\nthe young man, we laid hands on him and shut him up, after which\nwe sat down in peace and ate and drank till the time of the call\nto afternoon-prayer, when I left the company and returned home.\nMy wife was sulky and said to me, \"Thou hast taken thy pleasure\nall day, whilst I have been moping at home. So now, except thou\ncarry me abroad and amuse me for the rest of the day, it will be\nthe cause of my separation from thee.\" So I took her out and we\namused ourselves till nightfall, when we returned home and met\nthe hunchback, brimming over with drunkenness and repeating the\nfollowing verses:\n\nThe glass is pellucid, and so is the wine: So bring them together\nand see them combine:\nTis a puzzle; one moment, all wine and no cup; At another, in\nturn, 'tis all cup and no wine.\n\nSo I invited him to pass the evening with us and went out to buy\nfried fish, after which we sat down to eat. Presently my wife\ntook a piece of bread and fish and crammed them into his mouth,\nand he choked and died. Then I took him up and made shift to\nthrow him into the house of the Jewish physician. He in his turn\nlet him down into the house of the controller, who threw him in\nthe way of the Christian broker. This, then, is my story. Is it\nnot more wonderful than that of the hunchback?'\n\nWhen the King heard the tailor's story, he shook his head for\ndelight and showed astonishment, saying, 'This that passed\nbetween the young man and the meddlesome barber is indeed more\npleasant and more wonderful than the story of that knave of a\nhunchback.' Then he bade the tailor take one of the chamberlains\nand fetch the barber out of his duresse, saying, 'Bring him to\nme, that I may hear his talk, and it shall be the means of the\nrelease of all of you. Then we will bury the hunchback, for he is\ndead since yesterday, and set up a tomb over him.' So the\nchamberlain and the tailor went away and presently returned with\nthe barber. The King looked at him and behold, he was a very old\nman, more than ninety years of age, of a swarthy complexion and\nwhite beard and eyebrows, flap-eared, long-nosed and simple and\nconceited of aspect. The King laughed at his appearance and said\nto him, 'O silent man, I desire thee to tell me somewhat of thy\nhistory.' 'O King of the age,' replied the barber, 'why are all\nthese men and this dead hunchback before thee?' Said the King,\n'Why dost thou ask?' 'I ask this,' rejoined the barber, 'that\nyour Majesty may know that I am no impertinent meddler and that I\nam guiltless of that they lay to my charge of overmuch talk; for\nI am called the Silent, and indeed I am the man of my name, as\nsays the poet:\n\nThine eyes shall seldom see a man that doth a nickname bear, But,\n     if thou search, thou'lt find the name his nature doth\n     declare.\n\nSo the King said, 'Explain the hunchback's case to him and repeat\nto him the stories told by the physician, the controller, the\nbroker and the tailor.' They did as he commanded, and the barber\nshook his head and exclaimed, 'By Allah, this is indeed a wonder\nof wonders!' Then said he, 'Uncover the hunchback's body, that\nI may see it.' They did so, and he sat down and taking the\nhunchback's head in his lap, looked at his face and laughed till\nhe fell backward. Then said he, 'To every death there is a cause;\nbut the story of this hunchback deserves to be recorded in\nletters of gold!' The bystanders were astounded at his words and\nthe King wondered and said to him, 'O silent man, explain thy\nwords to us.' 'O King of the age,' replied the barber, 'by thy\nmunificence, there is yet life in this hunchback.' Then he pulled\nout from his girdle a barber's budget, whence he took a pot of\nointment and anointed therewith the neck of the hunchback and its\nveins. Then he took out a pair of tweezers and thrusting them\ndown the hunchback's throat, drew out the piece of fish and its\nbone, soaked in blood. Thereupon the hunchback sneezed and sat\nup, and passing his hand over his face, exclaimed, 'I testify\nthat there is no god but God and that Mohammed is His Apostle!'\nAt this all present wondered and the King laughed, till he\nfainted, and so did the others. Then said the King, 'By Allah,\nthis is the most wonderful thing I ever saw! O Muslims, O\nsoldiers all, did you ever in your lives see a man die and come\nto life again? For verily, had not God vouchsafed him this barber\nto be the cause of his preservation, he had been dead!' 'By\nAllah,' said they, 'this is a wonder of wonders!' Then the King\ncaused the whole history to be recorded and laid up in the royal\ntreasury; after which he bestowed splendid dresses of honour on\nthe Jew, the broker and the controller and sent them away. Then\nhe gave the tailor a costly dress of honour and appointed him his\nown tailor, with a suitable stipend, and made peace between him\nand the hunchback, on whom he also bestowed a rich and fair dress\nof honour and made him his boon-companion, appointing him due\nallowances. As for the barber, he made him a like present and\nappointed him state barber and one of his boon-companions,\nassigning him regular allowances and a fixed salary. And they all\nceased not from the enjoyment of all the delights and comforts of\nlife, till there overtook them the Destroyer of delights and the\nSunderer of companies.\n\n\n\n\n\n          NOUREDDIN ALI AND THE DAMSEL ENIS EL JELIS.\n\n\n\nThere was once a King in Bassora who cherished the poor and needy\nand loved his subjects and bestowed of his wealth on those who\nbelieved in Mohammed (whom God bless and preserve!) and he was\neven as the poet hath described him:\n\nA King who, when the hostile hosts assault him in the field,\n     Smites them and hews them, limb from limb, with trenchant\n     sword and spear\nFull many a character of red he writes upon the breasts What time\n     the mailed horsemen break before his wild career.\n\nHis name was King Mohammed ben Suleiman ez Zeini, and he had two\nViziers, one called Muin ben Sawa and the other Fezl ben Khacan.\nFezl was the most generous man of his time; noble and upright of\nlife, all hearts concurred in loving him, and the wise complied\nwith his counsel, whilst all the people wished him long life; for\nthat he was a compend of good qualities, encouraging good and\npreventing evil and mischief. The Vizier Muin, on the contrary,\nwas a hater of mankind and loved not good, being indeed\naltogether evil; even as says of him the poet:\n\nLook thou consort with the generous, sons of the gen'rous; for\n     lo! The generous, sons of the gen'rous, beget the gen'rous,\n     I trow.\nAnd let the mean-minded men, sons of the mean-minded, go, For the\n     mean-minded, sons of the mean, beget none other than so.\n\nAnd as much as the people loved Fezl, so much did they hate Muin.\nIt befell one day, that the King, being seated on his throne,\nwith his officers of state about him, called his Vizier Fezl and\nsaid to him, 'I wish to have a slave-girl of unsurpassed beauty,\nperfect in grace and symmetry and endowed with all praiseworthy\nqualities.' Said the courtiers, 'Such a girl is not to be had for\nless than ten thousand dinars!' whereupon the King cried out to\nhis treasurer and bade him carry ten thousand dinars to Fezl's\nhouse. The treasurer did so, and the Vizier went away, after the\nKing had charged him to go to the market every day and employ\nbrokers and had given orders that no girl worth more than a\nthousand dinars should be sold, without being first shown to the\nVizier. Accordingly, the brokers brought him all the girls that\ncame into their hands, but none pleased him, till one day a\nbroker came to his house and found him mounting his horse, to go\nto the palace; so he caught hold of his stirrup and repeated the\nfollowing verses:\n\nO thou whose bounties have restored the uses of the state, O\n     Vizier helped of heaven, whose acts are ever fortunate!\nThou hast revived the virtues all were dead among the folk. May\n     God's acceptance evermore on thine endeavours wait!\n\nThen said he, 'O my lord, she for whom the august mandate was\nissued is here.' 'Bring her to me,' replied the Vizier. So he\nwent away and returned in a little with a damsel of elegant\nshape, swelling-breasted, with melting black eyes and smooth\ncheeks, slender-waisted and heavy-hipped, clad in the richest of\nclothes. The dew of her lips was sweeter than syrup, her shape\nmore symmetrical than the bending branch and her speech softer\nthan the morning zephyr, even as says one of those who have\ndescribed her:\n\nA wonder of beauty! Her face full moon of the palace sky; Of a\n     tribe of gazelles and wild cows the dearest and most high!\nThe Lord of the empyrean hath given her pride and state,\n     Elegance, charm and a shape that with the branch may vie;\nShe hath in the heaven of her face a cluster of seven stars, That\n     keep the ward of her cheek to guard it from every spy.\nSo if one think to steal a look, the imps of her glance Consume\n     him straight with a star, that shoots from her gleaming eye.\n\nWhen the Vizier saw her she pleased him exceedingly, so he turned\nto the broker and said to him, 'What is the price of this\ndamsel?' 'Her price is ten thousand dinars,' replied he, 'and\nher owner swears that this sum will not cover the cost of the\nchickens she hath eaten, the wine she hath drunk and the\ndresses of honour bestowed on her teachers; for she hath learnt\npenmanship and grammar and lexicology and the exposition of the\nKoran and the rudiments of law and theology, medicine and the\ncalendar, as well as the art of playing on instruments of music.'\nThen said the Vizier, 'Bring me her master.' So the broker\nbrought him at once, and behold, he was a foreigner, who had\nlived so long that time had worn him to bones and skin. Quoth\nthe Vizier to him, 'Art thou content to sell this damsel to\nthe Sultan for ten thousand dinars?' 'By Allah,' replied the\nmerchant, 'if I made him a present of her, it were but my duty!'\nSo the Vizier sent for the money and gave it to the slave-dealer,\nwho said, 'By the leave of our lord the Vizier, I have something\nto say.' 'Speak,' said the Vizier: and the slave-dealer said, 'If\nthou wilt be ruled by me, thou wilt not carry the damsel to the\nKing to-day, for she is newly off a journey; the change of air\nhas affected her and the journey has fretted her. But let her\nabide in thy palace ten days, that she may recover her good\nlooks. Then send her to the bath and dress her in the richest of\nclothes and go up with her to the Sultan, and this will be more\nto thy profit.' The Vizier considered the man's advice and\napproved it; so he took her to his palace, where he appointed her\na separate lodging and a daily allowance of meat and drink and so\nforth, and she abode thus awhile.\n\nNow the Vizier Fezl had a son like the rising full moon, with\nshining visage, red cheeks covered with a tender down and a mole\nlike a grain of ambergris; as says of him the poet and therein\nerrs not:\n\nA moon,[FN#107] whose glances slay the folk, on whom he turns his\n     eye; A branch, whose graces break all hearts, as he goes\n     stately by\nSlack as the night his browlocks are, his face the hue of gold;\n     Fair is his person, and his shape the spear-shaft doth\n     outvie.\nAh me, how hard his heart, how soft and slender is his waist! Why\n     is the softness not transferred from this to that, ah why?\nWere but the softness of his sides made over to his heart, He'd\n     ne'er to lovers be unjust nor leave them thus to sigh.\nO thou that blam'st my love of thee, excuse me rather thou, Nor\n     chide me, if my body pine for languor like to die.\nThe fault, indeed, lies not with me, but with my heart and eye;\n     So chide me not, but let me be in this my misery.\n\nNow he knew not the affair of the damsel, and his father had\nlessoned her, saying, 'Know, O my daughter, that I have bought\nthee for the bed of the King Mohammed ben Suleiman ez Zeini, and\nI have a son who leaves no girl in the quarter but he has to do\nwith her; so be on thy guard against him and beware of letting\nhim see thy face or hear thy voice.' 'I hear and obey,' replied\nshe; and the Vizier left her and went away. Some days after this\nit chanced, as Fate would have it, that the damsel went to the\nbath in the house, where some of the serving-women washed her,\nafter which she arrayed herself in rich apparel, and her beauty\nand grace redoubled. Then she went in to the Vizier's wife and\nkissed her hand; and the lady said to her, 'May it profit thee, O\nEnis el Jelis! How didst thou find the bath?' 'O my lady,'\nanswered she, 'I lacked but thy presence there.' Thereupon said\nthe mistress to her waiting-women, 'Come with me to the bath, for\nit is some days since I went thither.' 'We hear and obey,'\nanswered they; and rose and accompanied her to the bath, after\nEnis el Jelis had retired to her own chamber and the lady had set\ntwo little slave-girls to keep the door, charging them to let\nnone go in to the damsel. Presently, as Enis el Jelis sat resting\nafter the bath, in came the Vizier's son, whose name was\nNoureddin Ali, and asked after his mother and her women, to which\nthe two little slaves replied that they had gone to the bath. The\ndamsel heard Noureddin's voice and said to herself, 'I wonder\nwhat like is this youth, of whom his father says that there is\nnot a girl in the quarter but he has had to do with her. By\nAllah, I long to see him!' So she rose, fresh as she was from the\nbath, and going to the door, looked at Noureddin and saw that he\nwas like the moon at its full. The sight cost her a thousand\nsighs, and Noureddin, chancing to look that way, caught a glance\nof her that caused him also a thousand regrets, and each fell\ninto the snare of the other's love. Then he went up to the two\nlittle slaves and cried out at them, whereupon they fled before\nhim and stood afar off to see what he would do. And behold, he\nwent up to the door of the damsel's chamber and entering, said to\nher, 'Art thou she whom my father bought for me?' 'Yes,' answered\nshe: whereupon Noureddin, who was heated with wine, went up to\nher and embraced her, whilst she wreathed her arms about his neck\nand met him with kisses and sighs and amorous gestures. Then he\nsucked her tongue and she his, and he did away her maidenhead.\nWhen the two little slaves saw their young master go in to the\ndamsel, they cried out and shrieked. So, as soon as he had done\nhis desire, he rose and fled, fearing the issue of his conduct.\nWhen the Vizier's wife heard the slaves' cries, she sprang up and\ncame out of the bath, with the sweat dripping from her, saying,\n'What is this clamour in the house?' Then she came up to the two\nlittle slaves, and said to them, 'Out on you! what is the\nmatter?' 'Our lord Noureddin came in and beat us,' answered they:\n'so we fled and he went in to the damsel and embraced her, and we\nknow not what he did after this: but when we cried out to thee,\nhe fled.' Thereupon, the mistress went in to Enis el Jelis and\nenquired what had happened. 'O my lady,' answered she, 'as I was\nsitting here, there came in a handsome young man, who said to me,\n\"Art thou she whom my father bought for me?\" I answered, \"Yes;\"\n(for by Allah, O my lady, I believed that he spoke the truth!)\nand with this he came up to me and embraced me.' 'Did he nought\nelse with thee?' asked the lady. 'Yes,' replied Enis el Jelis:\n'he took of me three kisses.' 'He did not leave thee without\ndeflowering thee!' cried the Vizier's wife, and fell to weeping\nand buffeting her face, she and her women, fearing that\nNoureddin's father would kill him. Whilst they were thus, in came\nthe Vizier and asked what was the matter, and his wife said to\nhim, 'Swear that thou wilt hearken to what I say.' 'It is well,'\nreplied he. So she told him what his son had done, and he was\ngreatly afflicted and tore his clothes and buffeted his face and\nplucked out his beard. 'Do not kill thyself,' said his wife: 'I\nwill give thee the ten thousand dinars, her price, of my own\nmoney.' But he raised his head and said to her, 'Out on thee! I\nhave no need of her price, but I fear to lose both life and\ngoods.' 'How so?' asked his wife, and he said, 'Dost thou not\nknow that yonder is our enemy Muin ben Sawa, who, when he hears\nof this affair, will go up to the Sultan and say to him, \"Thy\nVizier, who thou wilt have it loves thee, had of thee ten\nthousand dinars and bought therewith a slave-girl, whose like was\nnever seen; but when he saw her, she pleased him and he said to\nhis son, 'Take her: thou art worthier of her than the Sultan.' So\nhe took her and did away her maidenhead, and she is now with\nhim.\" The King will say, \"Thou liest!\" To which Muin will reply,\n\"With thy leave, I will fall on him at unawares and bring her to\nthee.\" The King will order him to do this, and he will come down\nupon the house and take the damsel and bring her before the King,\nwho will question her and she will not be able to deny what has\npassed. Then Muin will say, \"O my lord, thou knowest that I give\nthee true counsel, but I am not in favour with thee.\" Thereupon\nthe Sultan will make an example of me, and I shall be a\ngazing-stock to all the people and my life will be lost.' Quoth\nhis wife, 'Tell none of this thing, which has happened privily,\nbut commit thy case to God and trust in Him to deliver thee from\nthis strait.' With this the Vizier's heart was set at rest, and\nhis wrath and chagrin subsided.\n\nMeanwhile, Noureddin, fearing the issue of the affair, spent the\nwhole day in the gardens and came back by night to his mother's\napartment, where he slept and rising before day, returned to the\ngardens. He lived thus for a whole month, not showing his face to\nhis father, till at last his mother said to the Vizier, 'O my\nlord, shall we lose our own son as well as the damsel? If things\ncontinue thus for long, the lad will flee forth from us.' 'What\nis to be done?' said he: and she answered, 'Do thou watch this\nnight, and when he comes, seize on him and frighten him. I will\nrescue him from thee and do thou then make peace with him and\ngive him the girl, for she loves him and he her; and I will pay\nthee her price.' So the Vizier watched that night and when his\nson came, he seized him and throwing him down, knelt on his\nbreast and made as if he would cut his throat; but his mother\ncame to his succour and said to her husband, 'What wilt thou do\nwith him?' Quoth he, 'I mean to kill him.' And Noureddin said to\nhis father 'Am I of so little account with thee?' Whereupon the\nVizier's eyes filled with tears and he replied, 'O my son, is the\nloss of my goods and my life of so little account in thine eyes?'\nQuoth Noureddin, 'Hear, O my father, what the poet says:\n\nPardon me: true, I have sinned: yet the sagacious man Ceases\n     never to pardon freely the erring wight.\nSurely, therefore, thy foe may hope for pardon from thee, Since\n     he is in the abyss and thou on honour's height!'\n\nThen the Vizier rose from off his breast, saying, 'O my son, I\nforgive thee!' for his heart was softened. Noureddin rose and\nkissed the hand of his father, who said to him, 'If I knew that\nthou wouldst deal fairly by Enis el Jelis, I would give her to\nthee.' 'O my father,' replied Noureddin, 'how should I not deal\nfairly by her?' Quoth the Vizier, 'O my son, I charge thee not to\ntake another wife nor concubine to share with her nor sell her.'\n'O my father,' answered Noureddin, 'I swear to thee that I will\ndo none of these things.' Then he went in to the damsel and abode\nwith her a whole year, whilst God caused the King to forget the\naffair. The matter, indeed, came to Muin's ears, but he dared not\nspeak of it, by reason of the favour in which the Vizier Fezl\nstood with the Sultan. At the end of the year, the Vizier Fezl\nwent one day to the bath and coming out, whilst still in a sweat,\nthe air smote him and he caught cold and took to his bed. His\nmalady gained upon him and sleeplessness was long upon him; so he\ncalled his son Noureddin and said to him, 'O my son, know that\nfortune is lotted out and the term of life fixed, and needs must\nevery soul drain the cup of death.' And he repeated the following\nverses:\n\nI'm dead: yet glory be to Him that dieth not; For that I needs\n     must die, indeed, full well I wot,\nHe is no king, who dies with kingship in his hand, For sovranty\n     belongs to Him that dieth not.\n\nThen he continued, 'O my son, I have no charge to lay on thee,\nexcept that thou fear God and look to the issue of thine actions\nand cherish the damsel Enis el Jelis.' 'O my father,' said\nNoureddin, 'who is like unto thee? Indeed thou art renowned for\nthe practice of virtue and the praying of the preachers for thee\nin the pulpits.' Quoth Fezl, 'O my son, I hope for acceptance\nfrom God the Most High.' Then he pronounced the two professions\nof the faith and was numbered among the blessed. The palace was\nfilled with crying and lamentation, and the news of his death\nreached the King and the people of the city, and even the\nchildren in the schools wept for Fezi ben Khacan. Then his son\nNoureddin arose and took order for his funeral, and the Amirs and\nViziers and grandees were present, amongst them the Vizier Muin\nben Sawa; and as the funeral train came forth of the palace, one\nof the mourners recited the following verses:\n\nThe fifth day I departed and left my friends alone: They laid me\n     out and washed me upon a slab of stone;\nThen stripped me of the raiment that on my body was, That they\n     might put upon me clothes other than my own\nOn four men's necks they bore me unto the place of prayer And\n     prayed a prayer above me by no prostration known.\nThen in a vaulted dwelling they laid me. Though the years Shall\n     waste, its door will never be open to them thrown.\n\nWhen they had laid him in the earth, Noureddin returned with the\nfolk; and he lamented with groans and tears and the tongue of the\ncase repeated the following verses:\n\nOn the fifth day they departed in the eventide, and I Took of\n     them the last leave-taking, when they went and left me here.\nWhen they turned away and left me, lo! the soul with them did go.\n     And I said, \"Return.\" It answered, \"Where, alas! should I\n     recur;\nShall I come back to a body whence the life and blood are flown?\n     Nothing now but bones are left it, rattling in the\n     sepulchre.\nLo! my eyes, excess of weeping hath put out their sight, I trow,\n     And a deafness eke is fallen on my ears: I cannot hear.\"\n\nHe abode a long while in great grief for his father, till one\nday, as he sat in his house, there came a knocking at the door;\nso he rose and opening the door, found there a man who had been\none of his father's friends and boon-companions. He entered and\nkissing Noureddin's hand, said to him, 'O my lord, he who has\nleft the like of thee is not dead; and to this pass (death) came\neven the lord of the first and the last.[FN#108] O my lord, take\ncomfort and leave mourning!' Thereupon Noureddin rose and going\nto the guest-chamber, transported thither all that he needed.\nThen his friends gathered together to him and he took his\nslave-girl again and collecting round him ten of the sons of the\nmerchants, began to eat meat and drink wine, giving entertainment\nafter entertainment and dispensing gifts and favours with a\nlavish hand, till one day his steward came to him and said, 'O my\nlord Noureddin, hast thou not heard the saying, \"He who spends\nand does not reckon, becomes poor without knowing it?\"' And he\nrepeated the following verses:\n\nI'll hold my money fast, knowing, as well as I know, That 'tis my\n     sword and shield against my every foe.\nIf I should lavish it on those who love me not, My luck among the\n     folk would change to grief and woe.\nSo I will eat and drink my wealth for my own good Nor upon any\n     man a single doit bestow.\nI will preserve with care my money from all those By nature base\n     and true to none. 'Tis better so\nThan that I e'er should say unto the mean of soul, \"Lend me so\n     much I'll pay to-morrow five-fold mo,\"\nAnd see my friend avert his face and turn away, Leaving my soul\n     cast down, as 'twere a dog's, I trow!\nO what a sorry lot is his, who hath no pelf, E'en though his\n     virtues bright like to the sun should show!\n\n'O my lord,' continued the steward, 'this lavish expense and\nprodigal giving waste away wealth.' When Noureddin heard his\nsteward's words, he looked at him and said, 'I will not hearken\nto one word of all thou hast said, for I have heard the following\nsaying of the poet:\n\nIf I be blessed with wealth and be not liberal with it, May my\n     hand wither and my foot eke paralysed remain!\nShow me the niggard who hath won glory by avarice! Show me the\n     liberal man his own munificence hath slain!\n\nAnd he said, 'Know, O steward, it is my desire that so long as\nthere remains in thy hands enough for my morning meal, thou\ntrouble me not with taking care for my evening meal.' Therewith\nthe steward went away and Noureddin continued his extravagant way\nof living; and if any of his boon-companions chanced to say to\nhim, 'This thing is handsome,' he would answer, 'It is thine as a\ngift;' or if another said, 'O my lord, such and such a house is\nhandsome,' he would say, 'Take it: it is thine.' In this manner\nhe continued to live for a whole year, giving his friends a\nbanquet in the morning and another in the evening, till one day\nas they were sitting together, the damsel Enis el Jelis repeated\nthe following verses:\n\nThou madest fair thy thought of Fate, when that the days were\n     fair, And fearedst not the unknown ills that they to thee\n     might bring:\nThe nights were fair and calm to thee; thou wert deceived by\n     them, For in the peace of night is born full many a\n     troublous thing.\n\n\nJust as she had finished, there came a knocking at the door; so\nNoureddin rose to open it, and one of his companions followed him\nwithout his knowledge. At the door he found his steward and said\nto him, 'What is the matter?' 'Omylord,' replied he, 'what I\nfeared for thee has come to pass!' 'How so?' asked Noureddin; and\nthe steward said, 'Know that there remains not a dirhem's worth,\nless nor more, in my hands. Here are registers containing an\naccount of the original state of thy property and the way in\nwhich thou hast spent it.' At this, Noureddin bowed his head and\nexclaimed, 'There is no power and no virtue but in God!' When the\nman who had followed him secretly to spy on him heard what the\nsteward said, he returned to his companions and said to them,\n'Look what ye do; for Noureddin Ali is bankrupt.' When Noureddin\nreturned, they read trouble in his face; so one of them rose and\nsaid to him, 'O my lord, maybe thou wilt give me leave to\nretire?' 'Why wilt thou go away to-day?' said he. 'My wife is\nbrought to bed,' replied the other; 'and I cannot be absent from\nher; I wish to return and see how she does.' So Noureddin gave\nhim leave, whereupon another rose and said, 'O my lord, I wish to\ngo to my brother, for he circumcises his son to-day.' And each\nmade some excuse to retire, till they were all gone and Noureddin\nremained alone. Then he called his slave-girl and said to her, 'O\nEnis el Jelis, hast thou seen what has befallen me?' And he\nrelated to her what the steward had told him. 'O my lord,'\nreplied she, 'some nights ago I had it in my mind to speak with\nthee of this matter; but I heard thee reciting the following\nverses:\n\nIf fortune be lavish to thee, look thou be lavish with it Unto\n     all classes of men, ere it escapes from thy hand!\nMunificence will not undo it, whilst it is constant to thee, Nor,\n     when it turneth away, will avarice force it to stand.\n\nWhen I heard thee speak thus, I held my peace and cared not to\nsay aught to thee.' 'O Enis el Jelis,' said Noureddin, 'thou\nknowest that I have not expended my substance but on my friends,\nwho have beggared me, and I think they will not leave me without\nhelp.' 'By Allah,' replied she, 'they will not profit thee in\naught.' Said he, 'I will rise at once and go to them and knock at\ntheir doors: maybe I shall get of them somewhat with which I may\ntrade and leave pleasure and merry-making.' So he rose and\nrepaired to a certain street, where all his ten comrades lived.\nHe went up to the first door and knocked, whereupon a maid came\nout and said, 'Who art thou?' 'Tell thy master,' replied he,\n'that Noureddin Ali stands at the door and says to him, \"Thy\nslave kisses thy hands and awaits thy bounty.\"' The girl went in\nand told her master, who cried out at her, saying, 'Go back and\ntell him that I am not at home.' So she returned and said to\nNoureddin, 'O my lord, my master is from home.' With this, he\nwent away, saying to himself, 'Though this fellow be a whoreson\nknave and deny himself, another may not be so.' Then he came to\nthe second door and sent in a like message to the master of the\nhouse, who denied himself as the first had done, whereupon\nNoureddin repeated the following verse:\n\nThey're gone who, if before their door thou didst arrest thy\n     feet, Would on thy poverty bestow both flesh and roasted\n     meat.\n\nAnd said 'By Allah, I must try them all: there may be one amongst\nthem who will stand me in the stead of the rest.' So he went\nround to all the ten, but not one of them opened his door to him\nor showed himself to him or broke a cake of bread in his face;\nwhereupon he repeated the following verses:\n\nA man in time of affluence is like unto a tree, Round which the\n     folk collect, as long as fruit thereon they see,\nTill, when its burden it hath cast, they turn from it away, Leave\n     it to suffer heat and dust and all inclemency.\nOut on the people of this age! perdition to them all! Since not a\n     single one of ten is faithful found to be.\n\nThen he returned to his slave-girl, and indeed his concern was\ndoubled, and she said to him, 'O my lord, did I not tell thee\nthat they would not profit thee aught?' 'By Allah,' replied he,\n'not one of them would show me his face or take any notice of\nme!' 'O my lord! said she, 'sell some of the furniture and\nhousehold stuff, little by little, and live on the proceed,\nagainst God the Most High provide.' So he sold all that was in\nthe house, till there was nothing left, when he turned to her and\nsaid, 'What is to be done now?' 'O my lord,' replied she, 'it is\nmy advice that thou rise and take me down to the market and sell\nme. Thou knowest that thy father bought me for ten thousand\ndinars; perhaps God may help thee to near that price, and if it\nbe His will that we be reunited, we shall meet again.' 'O Enis el\nJelis,' replied Noureddin, 'by Allah, I cannot endure to be\nparted from thee for a single hour!' 'By Allah, O my lord,'\nrejoined she, 'nor is it easy to me; but necessity compels, as\nsays the poet:\n\nNecessity in life oft drives one into ways That to the courteous\nmind are foreign and abhorred.\nWe do not trust our weight unto a rope, unless It be to do some\nthing adapted to the cord.'\n\nWith this, he rose to his feet and took her, whilst the tears\nstreamed down his cheeks like rain and he recited with the tongue\nof the case what follows:\n\nStay and vouchsafe me one more look before our parting hour, To\n     soothe the anguish of a heart well-nigh for reverence slain!\nYet, if it irk thee anywise to grant my last request, Far rather\n     let me die of love than cause thee aught of pain!\n\nThen he went down to the market and delivered the damsel to a\nbroker, to whom he said, 'O Hajj[FN#109] Hassan, I would have\nthee note the value of her thou hast to offer for sale!' 'O my\nlord Noureddin,' replied the broker, 'I have not forgotten my\nbusiness.[FN#110] Is not this Enis el Jelis, whom thy father\nbought of me for ten thousand dinars?' 'Yes,' said Noureddin.\nThen the broker went round to the merchants, but found they were\nnot all assembled; so he waited till the rest had arrived and the\nmarket was full of all kinds of female slaves, Turks and Franks\nand Circassians and Abyssinians and Nubians and Egyptians and\nTartars and Greeks and Georgians and others; when he came forward\nand said, 'O merchants! O men of wealth! every round thing is not\na walnut nor every long thing a banana; every thing red is not\nmeat nor everything white fat. O merchants, I have here this\nunique pearl, this unvalued jewel! What price shall I set on\nher?' 'Say four thousand five hundred dinars,' cried one. So the\nbroker opened the biddings for her at that sum and as he was yet\ncalling, behold, the Vizier Muin ben Sawa passed through the\nmarket and seeing Noureddin standing in a corner, said to\nhimself, 'What doth the son of Khacan here? Has this gallows-bird\naught left to buy girls withal?' Then he looked round and seeing\nthe broker crying out and the merchants round him, said to\nhimself, 'Doubtless he is ruined and has brought the damsel Enis\nel Jelis hither to sell her! What a solace to my heart!' Then he\ncalled the crier, who came up and kissed the ground before him,\nand he said to him, 'Show me the girl thou art crying for sale.'\nThe broker dared not cross him, so he answered, 'O my lord, in\nthe name of God!' And brought the damsel and showed her to him.\nShe pleased him and he said, 'O Hassan, what is bidden for this\ndamsel?' 'Four thousand five hundred dinars,' replied the broker,\n'as an upset price.' Quoth the Vizier, 'I take that bid on\nmyself.' When the merchants heard this, they hung back and dared\nnot bid another dirhem, knowing what they did of the Vizier's\ntyranny. Then Muin looked at the broker and said to him, 'What\nails thee to stand still? Go and offer four thousand dinars for\nher, and the five hundred shall be for thyself.' So the broker\nwent to Noureddin and said to him, 'O my lord, thy slave is gone\nfor nothing!' 'How so?' said he. The broker answered, 'We had\nopened the biddings for her at four thousand five hundred dinars,\nwhen that tyrant Muin ben Sawa passed through the market and when\nhe saw the damsel, she pleased him and he said to me, \"Call me\nthe buyer for four thousand dinars, and thou shalt have five\nhundred for thyself.\" I doubt not but he knows she belongs to\nthee, and if he would pay thee down her price at once, it were\nwell; but I know, of his avarice and upright, he will give thee a\nwritten order on some of his agents and will send after thee to\nsay to them, \"Give him nothing.\" So as often as thou shalt go to\nseek the money, they will say, \"We will pay thee presently,\" and\nso they will put thee off day after day, for all thy high spirit,\ntill at last, when they are tired of thine importunity, they will\nsay, \"Show us the bill.\" Then, as soon as they get hold of it,\nthey will tear it up, and so thou wilt lose the girl's price.'\nWhen Noureddin heard this, he looked at the broker and said\nto him, 'What is to be done?' 'I will give thee a counsel,'\nanswered he, 'which if thou follow, it will be greatly to thine\nadvantage.' 'What is that?' asked Noureddin. 'Do thou come to me\npresently,' said the broker, 'when I am standing in the midst of\nthe market and taking the girl from my hand, give her a cuff and\nsay to her, \"O baggage, I have kept my vow and brought thee down\nto the market, because I swore that I would put thee up for sale\nand make the brokers cry thee.\" If thou do this, it may be the\ndevice will impose upon the Vizier and the folk, and they will\nbelieve that thou broughtest her not to the market but for\nthe quittance of thine oath.' 'This is a good counsel,' said\nNoureddin. Then the broker left him and returning to the midst of\nthe market, took the damsel by the hand; then beckoned to Muin\nand said to him, 'O my lord, here comes her owner.' With this up\ncame Noureddin and snatching the girl from the broker, gave her a\ncuff and said to her, 'Out on thee, thou baggage! I have brought\nthee down to the market for the quittance of my oath; so now\nbegone home and look that thou cross me not again. Out on thee!\ndo I need thy price, that I should sell thee? The furniture of my\nhouse would fetch many times thy value, if I sold it.' When Muin\nsaw this, he said to Noureddin, 'Out on thee! Hast thou aught\nleft to sell?' And he made to lay violent hands on him; but the\nmerchants interposed, for they all loved Noureddin, and the\nlatter said to them, 'Behold, I am in your hands, and ye all know\nhis tyranny!' 'By Allah,' exclaimed the Vizier, 'but for you, I\nwould have killed him!' Then all the merchants signed to\nNoureddin with their eyes as who should say, 'Work thy will of\nhim; not one of us will come betwixt him and thee.' Whereupon\nNoureddin, who was a stout-hearted fellow, went up to the Vizier\nand dragging him from his saddle, threw him to the ground. Now\nthere was in that place a mortar-pit, into the midst of which he\nfell, and Noureddin fell to cuffing and pummelling him, and one\nof the blows smote his teeth, dyeing his beard with his blood.\nThere were with the Vizier ten armed slaves, who, seeing their\nmaster thus evil entreated, clapped their hands to their swords\nand would have drawn them and fallen on Noureddin, to kill him;\nbut the bystanders said to them, 'This is a Vizier and that a\nVizier's son; it may be they will make peace with one another\nanon, in which case you will have gotten the hatred of both of\nthem. Or a blow may fall on your lord, and you will all die the\nfoulest of deaths; so you would do wisely not to interfere.' So\nthey held aloof and when Noureddin had made an end of beating the\nVizier, he took his slave-girl and went home; and Muin rose, with\nhis white clothes dyed of three colours with black mud, red blood\nand ashes. When he saw himself in this plight, he put a halter\nround his neck and taking a bundle of coarse grass in either\nhand, went up to the palace and standing under the King's\nwindows, cried out, 'O King of the age, I am a man aggrieved!' So\nthey brought him before the Sultan, who looked at him and knowing\nhim for his chief Vizier, asked who had entreated him thus.\nWhereupon he wept and sobbed and repeated the following verses:\n\nShall fortune oppress me, and that in thy day, O King? Shall\n     wolves devour me, whilst thou art a lion proud?\nShall all that are thirsty drink of thy water-tanks And shall I\n     thirst in thy courts, whilst thou art a rain-fraught cloud?\n\n'O my lord,' continued he, 'thus fare all who love and serve\nthee.' 'Make haste,' said the Sultan, 'and tell me how this\nhappened and who hath dealt thus with thee, whose honour is a\npart of my own honour.' 'Know then, O my lord,' replied the\nVizier, 'that I went out this day to the slave-market to buy me a\ncook-maid, when I saw in the bazaar a damsel, whose like for\nbeauty I never beheld. She pleased me and I thought to buy her\nfor our lord the Sultan; so I asked the broker of her and her\nowner, and he replied, \"She belongs to Noureddin Ali son of Fezl\nben Khacan.\" Now our lord the Sultan aforetime gave his father\nten thousand dinars to buy him a handsome slave-girl, and he\nbought therewith this damsel, who pleased him, so that he grudged\nher to our lord the Sultan and gave her to his own son. When Fezl\ndied, his son sold all that he possessed of houses and gardens\nand household stuff and squandered the price, till he became\npenniless. Then he brought the girl down to the market, to\nsell her, and handed her to the broker, who cried her and the\nmerchants bid for her, till her price reached four thousand\ndinars; whereupon I said to myself, \"I will buy her for our lord\nthe Sultan, for it was his money that paid for her.\" So I said to\nNoureddin, \"O my son, sell her to me for four thousand dinars.\"\nHe looked at me and replied, \"O pestilent old man, I will sell\nher to a Jew or a Christian rather than to thee!\" \"I do not buy\nher for myself,\" said I, \"but for our lord and benefactor the\nSultan.\" When he heard my words, he flew into a passion and\ndragging me off my horse, for all I am an old man, beat me till\nhe left me as thou seest; and all this has befallen me but\nbecause I thought to buy the girl for thee.' Then the Vizier\nthrew himself on the ground and lay there, weeping and trembling.\nWhen the Sultan saw his condition and heard his story, the vein\nof anger started out between his eyes, and he turned to his\nguards, who stood before him, forty swordsmen, and said to them,\n'Go down at once to the house of Noureddin ben Fezl, and sack it\nand raze it; then take him and the damsel and drag them hither\nwith their hands bound behind them.' 'We hear and obey,' answered\nthey: and arming themselves, set out for Noureddin's house. Now\nthere was with the Sultan a man called Ilmeddin Senjer, who had\naforetime been servant to Noureddin's father Fezl ben Khacan, but\nhad left his service for that of the Sultan, who had advanced him\nto be one of his chamberlains. When he heard the Sultan's order\nand saw the enemies intent upon killing his master's son, it was\ngrievous to him; so he went out from before the Sultan and\nmounting his steed, rode to Noureddin's house and knocked at the\ndoor. Noureddin came out and knowing him, would have saluted\nhim: but he said, 'O my lord, this is no time for greeting or\nconverse.' 'O Ilmeddin,' asked Noureddin, 'what is the matter?'\n'Arise and flee for your lives, thou and the damsel,' replied he:\n'for Muin ben Sawa hath laid a snare for you; and if you fall\ninto his hands, he will kill you. The Sultan hath despatched\nforty swordsmen against you and I counsel you flee ere evil\novertake you.' Then Senjer put his hand to his pouch and finding\nthere forty dinars, took them and gave them to Noureddin, saying,\n'O my lord, take these and journey with them. If I had more, I\nwould give them to thee; but this is no time to take exception.'\nSo Noureddin went in to the damsel and told her what had\nhappened, at which she wrung her hands. Then they went out at\nonce from the city, and God let down the veil of His protection\nover them, so that they reached the river-bank, where they found\na ship about to sail. Her captain stood in the waist, saying,\n'Whoso has aught to do, whether in the way of victualling or\ntaking leave of his friends, or who has forgotten any necessary\nthing, let him do it at once and return, for we are about to\nsail.' And every one said, 'O captain, we have nothing left to\ndo.' Whereupon he cried out to his crew, saying, 'Ho, there! cast\noff the moorings and pull up the pickets!' Quoth Noureddin,\n'Whither bound, O captain?' 'To the Abode of Peace, Baghdad,'\nreplied he. So Noureddin and the damsel embarked with him, and\nthey launched out and spread the sails, and the ship sped forth,\nas she were a bird in full flight, even as says right well the\npoet:\n\nLook at a ship, how ravishing a sight she is and fair! In her\n     swift course she doth outstrip the breezes of the air.\nShe seems as 'twere a scudding bird that, lighting from the sky,\n     Doth on the surface of the stream with outspread pinions\n     fare.\n\nMeanwhile the King's officers came to Noureddin's house and\nbreaking open the doors, entered and searched the whole place,\nbut could find no trace of him and the damsel; so they demolished\nthe house and returning to the Sultan, told him what they had\ndone; whereupon he said, 'Make search for them, wherever they\nare!' And they answered, 'We hear and obey.' Then he bestowed\nupon the Vizier Muin a dress of honour and said to him, 'None\nshall avenge thee but myself.' So Muin's heart was comforted and\nhe wished the King long life and returned to his own house. Then\nthe Sultan caused proclamation to be made in the town, saying, 'O\nall ye people! It is the will of our lord the Sultan that whoso\nhappens on Noureddin Ali ben Khacan and brings him to the Sultan\nshall receive a dress of honour and a thousand dinars, and he who\nconceals him or knows his abiding-place and informs not thereof,\ndeserves the exemplary punishment that shall befall him.' So\nsearch was made for Noureddin, but they could find neither trace\nnor news of him; and meantime he and the damsel sailed on with a\nfair wind, till they arrived safely at Baghdad and the captain\nsaid to them, 'This is Baghdad, and it is a city of safety: the\nwinter hath departed from it, with its cold, and the season of\nthe Spring is come, with its roses; its trees are in blossom and\nits streams flowing.' So Noureddin landed, he and the damsel, and\ngiving the captain five dinars, walked on awhile, till chance\nbrought them among the gardens and they came to a place swept and\nsprinkled, with long benches on either hand and hanging pots full\nof water. Overhead was a trelliswork of canes shading the whole\nlength of the alley, and at the further end was the door of a\ngarden; but this was shut. 'By Allah,' said Noureddin to the\ndamsel, 'this is a pleasant place!' And she answered, 'O my lord,\nlet us sit down on these benches and rest awhile.' So they\nmounted and sat down on the benches, after having washed their\nfaces and hands; and the air smote on them and they fell asleep,\nglory be to Him who never sleeps! Now the garden in question was\ncalled the Garden of Delight and therein stood a pavilion called\nthe Pavilion of Pictures, belonging to the Khalif Haroun er\nReshid, who used, when sad at heart, to repair thither and there\nsit. In this pavilion were fourscore windows and fourscore\nhanging lamps and in the midst a great chandelier of gold. When\nthe Khalif entered, he was wont to have all the windows opened\nand to order his boon-companion Isaac ben Ibrahim and the\nslave-girls to sing, till his care left him and his heart was\nlightened. Now the keeper of the garden was an old man by name\nGaffer Ibrahim, and he had found, from time to time, on going out\non his occasions, idlers taking their case with courtezans in the\nalley leading to the door of the garden, at which he was sore\nenraged; so he complained to the Khalif, who said, 'Whomsoever\nthou findest at the door of the garden, do with him as thou\nwilt.' As chance would have it, he had occasion to go abroad that\nvery day and found these two sleeping at the gate, covered with\none veil; whereupon, 'By Allah,' said he, 'this is fine! These\ntwo know not that the Khalif has given me leave to kill any one\nwhom I may catch at the door of the garden: but I will give them\na sound drubbing, that none may come near the gate in future.' So\nhe cut a green palm-stick and went out to them and raising his\narm, till the whiteness of his armpit appeared, was about to lay\non to them, when he bethought himself and said, 'O Ibrahim, wilt\nthou beat them, knowing not their case? Maybe they are strangers\nor wayfarers, and destiny hath led them hither. I will uncover\ntheir faces and look on them.' So he lifted up the veil from\ntheir faces and said, 'They are a handsome pair! It were not\nfitting that I should beat them.' Then he covered their faces\nagain, and going to Noureddin's feet, began to rub them,\nwhereupon the young man awoke, and seeing an old man of venerable\nappearance rubbing his feet, was abashed and drawing them in, sat\nup; then took Ibrahim's hand and kissed it. Quoth the old man, 'O\nmy son, whence art thou?' 'O my lord,' replied Noureddin, 'we are\nstrangers.' And the tears started to his eyes. 'O my son,' said\nIbrahim, 'know that the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve!)\nhath charged us to be hospitable to strangers. Wilt thou not\nrise, O my son, and pass into the garden and take thy pleasure\ntherein and gladden thy heart?' 'O my lord,' said Noureddin, 'to\nwhom does the garden belong?' And he replied, 'O my son, I\ninherited it from my family.' Now his object in saying this was\nto put them at their ease and induce them to enter the garden. So\nNoureddin thanked him and rose, he and the damsel, and followed\nhim into the garden. They entered through a gateway, vaulted like\na gallery and overhung with vines bearing grapes of various\ncolours, the red like rubies and the black like ebony, and\npassing under a bower of trellised boughs, found themselves in a\ngarden, and what a garden! There were fruit-trees growing singly\nand in clusters and birds warbling melodiously on the branches,\nwhilst the thousand-voiced nightingale repeated the various\nstrains: the turtle-dove filled the place with her cooing, and\nthere sang the blackbird, with its warble like a human voice, and\nthe ring-dove, with her notes like a drinker exhilarated with\nwine. The trees were laden with all manner of ripe fruits, two of\neach: the apricot in its various kinds, camphor and almond and\nthat of Khorassan, the plum, whose colour is as that of fair\nwomen, the cherry, that does away discoloration of the teeth, and\nthe fig of three colours, red and white and green. There bloomed\nthe flower of the bitter orange, as it were pearls and coral,\nthe rose whose redness puts to shame the cheeks of the fair,\nthe violet, like sulphur on fire by night, the myrtle, the\ngillyflower, the lavender, the peony and the blood-red anemone.\nThe leaves were jewelled with the tears of the clouds; the\ncamomile smiled with her white petals like a lady's teeth, and\nthe narcissus looked at the rose with her negro's eyes: the\ncitrons shone like cups and the limes like balls of gold, and the\nearth was carpeted with flowers of all colours; for the Spring\nwas come and the place beamed with its brightness; whilst the\nbirds sang and the stream rippled and the breeze blew softly, for\nthe attemperance of the air. Ibrahim carried them up into the\npavilion, and they gazed on its beauty and on the lamps aforesaid\nin the windows; and Noureddin called to mind his banquetings of\ntime past and said, 'By Allah, this is a charming place!' Then\nthey sat down and the gardener set food before them; and they ate\ntheir fill and washed their hands; after which Noureddin went up\nto one of the windows and calling the damsel, fell to gazing on\nthe trees laden with all manner of fruits. Then he turned to the\ngardener and said to him, 'O Gaffer Ibrahim, hast thou no drink\nhere, for folk use to drink after eating?' The old man brought\nhim some fresh sweet cold water, but he said, 'This is not the\nkind of drink I want.' 'Belike,' said Ibrahim, 'thou wishest for\nwine?' 'I do,' replied Noureddin. 'God preserve me from it!' said\nthe old man. 'It is thirteen years since I did this thing, for\nthe Prophet (whom God bless and preserve!) cursed its drinker,\nits presser, its seller and its carrier.' 'Hear two words from\nme,' said Noureddin. 'Say on,' replied Ibrahim. 'If,' said\nNoureddin, 'that unlucky ass there be cursed, will any part of\nthe curse fall on thee?' 'Not so,' replied the old man. 'Then,'\nsaid Noureddin, 'take this dinar and these two dirhems and mount\nthe ass and stop at a distance (from the wineshop); then call the\nfirst man thou seest buying, and say to him, \"Take these two\ndirhems and buy me this dinar's worth of wine and set it on the\nass.\" Thus thou wilt be neither the purchaser nor the carrier of\nthe wine and no part of the curse will fall on thee.' At this the\ngardener laughed and said, 'O my son, never have I seen one\nreadier-witted than thou nor heard aught sweeter than thy\nspeech.' So he did as Noureddin had said, and the latter thanked\nhim, saying, 'We are dependent on thee, and it is only fitting\nthat thou comply with our wishes; so bring us what we require.'\n'O my son,' replied he, 'there is my buttery before thee.' (Now\nthis was the store-room provided for the Commander of the\nFaithful.) Enter and take what thou wilt; there is more there\nthan thou needest.' So Noureddin entered the pantry and found\ntherein vessels of gold and silver and crystal, incrusted with\nall kinds of jewels, and was amazed and delighted at what he saw.\nThen he took what he wanted and set it on and poured the wine\ninto flagons and decanters, whilst Ibrahim brought them fruits\nand flowers and withdrew and sat down at a distance. So they\ndrank and made merry, till the wine got the mastery of them, so\nthat their cheeks flushed and their eyes sparkled and their hair\nbecame dishevelled. Then said Ibrahim to himself, 'What ails me\nto sit apart? Why should I not sit with them? When shall I find\nmyself in company with the like of these two, who are like two\nmoons?' So he came and sat down at the corner of the dais, and\nNoureddin said to him, 'O my lord, my life on thee, come and sit\nwith us!' So he came and sat by them, and Noureddin filled a cup\nand said to him, 'Drink, that thou mayst know the flavour of it.'\n'God forbid!' replied he. 'I have not done such a thing these\nthirteen years.' Noureddin did not press him, but drank off the\ncup, and throwing himself on the ground, feigned to be overcome\nwith drunkenness. Then said the damsel, 'O Gaffer Ibrahim, see\nhow he serves me!' 'O my lady,' replied he, 'what ails him?'\n'This is how he always treats me,' said she; 'he drinks awhile,\nthen falls asleep and leaves me alone, with none to bear me\ncompany over my cup nor to whom I may sing whilst he drinks.' 'By\nAllah,' said he (and indeed her words touched his heart and made\nhis soul incline to her), 'this is not well!' Then she looked at\nhim and filling a cup said to him, 'I conjure thee, on my life,\nnot to refuse me, but take this cup and drink it off and solace\nmy heart.' So he took it and drank it off and she filled a second\ncup and set it on the chandelier, saying, 'O my lord, there is\nstill this one left for thee.' 'By Allah, I cannot take it,'\nanswered he; 'that which I have drunk suffices me.' 'By Allah,'\nsaid she, 'thou must indeed drink it.' So he took the cup and\ndrank; and she filled him a third cup, which he took and was\nabout to drink, when behold, Noureddin opened his eyes and\nsitting up, exclaimed, 'Hello, Gaffer Ibrahim, what is this? Did\nI not adjure thee just now, and thou refusedst, saying, \"I have\nnot done such a thing these thirteen years\"?' 'By Allah,' replied\nhe (and indeed he was abashed), 'it is her fault, not mine.'\nNoureddin laughed and they sat down again to carouse, but the\ndamsel turned to Noureddin and whispered to him, 'O my lord,\ndrink and do not press him, and I will show thee some sport with\nhim.' Then she began to fill her master's cup and he to fill to\nher, and so they did time after time, till at last Ibrahim looked\nat them and said, 'What manner of good fellowship is this? God's\nmalison on the glutton who keeps the cup to himself! Why dost\nthou not give me to drink, O my brother? What manners are these,\nO Blessed One!' At this they laughed till they fell backward;\nthen they drank and gave him to drink and ceased not to carouse\nthus, till a third part of the night was past. Then said the\ndamsel, 'O Gaffer Ibrahim, with thy leave, I will light one of\nthese candles.' 'Do so,' said he; 'but light no more then one.'\nSo she rose and beginning with one candle, lighted fourscore and\nsat down again. Presently Noureddin said, 'O Gaffer Ibrahim, how\nstands my favour with thee? May I not light one of these lamps ?'\n'Light one,' replied he, 'and plague me no more.' So Noureddin\nrose and lighted one lamp after another, till he had lighted the\nwhole eighty and the palace seemed to dance with light. Quoth\nIbrahim (and indeed intoxication had mastered him), 'Ye are more\nactive than I.' Then he rose and opened all the windows and sat\ndown again; and they fell to carousing and reciting verses, till\nthe place rang with their mirth.\n\nNow as God the All-powerful, who appointeth a cause to\neverything, had decreed, the Khalif was at that moment seated at\none of the windows of his palace, overlooking the Tigris, in the\nlight of the moon. He saw the lustre of the candles and lamps\nreflected in the river and lifting his eyes, perceived that it\ncame from the garden-palace, which was in a blaze with light. So\nhe called Jaafer the Barmecide and said to him, 'O dog of a\nVizier, has the city of Baghdad been taken from me and thou hast\nnot told me?' 'What words are these?' said Jaafer. 'If Baghdad\nwere not taken from me,' rejoined the Khalif, 'the Pavilion of\nPictures would not be illuminated with lamps and candles, nor\nwould its windows be open. Out on thee! Who would dare to do this\nexcept the Khalifate were taken from me?' Quoth Jaafer (and\nindeed he trembled in every limb), 'Who told thee that the\npavilion was illuminated and the windows open?' 'Come hither and\nlook,' replied the Khalif. So Jaafer came to the window and\nlooking towards the garden, saw the pavilion flaming with light,\nin the darkness of the night, and thinking that this might be by\nthe leave of the keeper, for some good reason of his own, was\nminded to make an excuse for him. So he said, 'O Commander of the\nFaithful, Gaffer Ibrahim said to me last week, \"O my lord Jaafer,\nI desire to circumcise my sons during thy life and that of the\nCommander of the Faithful.\" \"What dost thou want?\" asked I; and\nhe said, \"Get me leave from the Khalif to hold the festival in\nthe pavilion.\" So I said to him, \"Go, circumcise them, and I will\nsee the Khalif and tell him.\" So he went away and I forgot to\ntell thee.' 'O Jaafer,' said the Khalif, 'thou hast committed two\noffences against me, first, in that thou didst not tell me,\nsecondly, in that thou didst not give the old man what he sought;\nfor he only came and told thee this, by way of hinting a request\nfor some small matter of money, to help him out with the\nexpenses; and thou gavest him nothing nor toldest me.' 'O\nCommander of the Faithful,' replied Jaafer, 'I forgot.' 'By the\nvirtue of my forefathers,' rejoined the Khalif, 'I will not pass\nthe rest of the night but with him, for he is a pious man, who\nconsorts with the elders of the faith and the fakirs: doubtless\nthey are now assembled with him and it may be that the prayer of\none of them may profit us both in this world and the next.\nBesides, my presence will advantage him and he will be pleased.'\n'O Commander of the Faithful,' objected Jaafer, 'the night is far\nspent, and they will now be about to break up.' 'It matters not,'\nreplied the Khalif; 'I must and will go to them.' And Jaafer was\nsilent, being perplexed and knowing not what to do. Then the\nKhalif rose to his feet and taking with him Jaafer and Mesrour\nthe eunuch, they all three disguised themselves as merchants and\nleaving the palace, walked on through the by-streets till they\ncame to the garden. The Khalif went up to the gate and finding it\nopen, was surprised and said to the Vizier, 'Look, Jaafer, how\nGaffer Ibrahim has left the gate open to this hour, contrary to\nhis wont!' They entered and walked on till they came under the\npavilion, when the Khalif said, 'O Jaafer, I wish to look in upon\nthem privily before I join them, that I may see what they are\nabout, for up to now I hear no sound nor any fakir naming[FN#111]\nGod.' Then he looked about and seeing a tall walnut-tree, said to\nJaafer, 'I will climb this tree, for its branches come near the\nwindows, and so look in upon them.' So he mounted the tree and\nclimbed from branch to branch, till he reached a bough that came\nup to one of the windows. On this he seated himself and looking\nin at the window, saw a young lady and a young man as they were\ntwo moons (glory be to Him who created them and fashioned them!),\nand by them Gaffer Ibrahim seated, with a cup in his hand,\nsaying, 'O princess of fair ones, drink without music is nothing\nworth; indeed I have heard a poet say:\n\nPass round the wine in the great and the small cup too, And take\n     the bowl from the hands of the shining moon.[FN#112]\nBut without music, I charge you, forbear to drink, For sure I see\n     even horses drink to a whistled tune.'\n\nWhen the Khalif saw this, the vein of anger started out between\nhis eyes and he descended and said to the Vizier, 'O Jaafer,\nnever saw I men of piety in such a case! Do thou mount this tree\nand look upon them, lest the benisons of the devout escape thee.'\nSo Jaafer climbed up, perplexed at these words, and looking in,\nsaw Noureddin and the damsel and Gaffer Ibrahim with a cup in his\nhand. At this sight, he made sure of ruin and descending, stood\nbefore the Commander of the Faithful, who said to him, 'O Jaafer,\npraised be God who hath made us of those who observe the external\nforms of the Divine ordinances!' Jaafer could make no answer for\nexcess of confusion, and the Khalif continued, 'I wonder how\nthese people came hither and who admitted them into my pavilion!\nBut the like of the beauty of this youth and this girl my eyes\nnever beheld!' 'Thou art right, O Commander of the Faithful,'\nreplied Jaafer, hoping to propitiate him. Then said the Khalif,\n'O Jaafer, let us both mount the branch that overlooks the\nwindow, that we may amuse ourselves with looking at them.' So\nthey both climbed the tree and looking in, heard Ibrahim say, 'O\nmy lady, I have laid aside gravity in drinking wine, but this is\nnot thoroughly delectable without the melodious sound of the\nstrings. 'By Allah,' replied Enis el Jelis, 'if we had but some\nmusical instrument, our joy would be complete!' When the old man\nheard what she said, he rose to his feet, and the Khalif said to\nJaafer, 'I wonder what he is going to do.' 'I know not,' replied\nJaafer. Then Ibrahim went out and returned with a lute; and\nthe Khalif looked at it and knew it for that of Isaac the\nboon-companion. 'By Allah,' said he, 'if this damsel sing ill, I\nwill crucify you, all of you; but if she sing well, I will pardon\nthem and crucify thee.' 'God grant she may sing ill!' said Jaafer\n'Why so?' asked the Khalif. 'Because,' replied Jaafer 'if thou\ncrucify us all together, we shall keep each other company.' The\nKhalif laughed at his speech; then the damsel took the lute and\ntuning it, played a measure which made all hearts yearn to her,\nthen sang the following verses:\n\nO ye that to help unhappy lovers are fain! We burn with the fire\n     of love and longing in vain.\nWhatever ye do, we merit it: see, we cast Ourselves on your ruth!\n     Do not exult in our pain.\nFor we are children of sadness and low estate. Do with us what\n     you will; we will not complain.\nWhat were your glory to slay us within your courts? Our fear is\n     but lest you sin in working us bane.\n\n'By Allah,' said the Khalif, 'it is good, O Jaafer! Never in my\nlife have I heard so enchanting a voice!' 'Belike,' said Jaafer,\n'the Khalif's wrath hath departed from him.' 'Yes,' said the\nKhalif, 'it is gone.' Then they descended from the tree, and the\nKhalif said to Jaafer, 'I wish to go in and sit with them and\nhear the damsel sing before me.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,'\nreplied Jaafer, 'if thou go in to them, they will most like be\ntroubled and Gaffer Ibrahim will assuredly die of fright.' 'O\nJaafer,' said the Khalif, 'thou must teach me some device,\nwhereby I may foregather with them, without being known of them.'\nSo they walked on towards the Tigris, considering of this affair,\nand presently came upon a fisher man standing fishing under the\nwindows of the pavilion. Now some time before this, the Khalif\n(being in the pavilion) had called to Gaffer Ibrahim and said to\nhim, 'What is this noise I hear under the windows?' 'It is the\nvoices of the fishermen, fishing,' answered he; and the Khalif\ncommanded him to go down and forbid them to resort thither; so\nthe fishermen were forbidden to fish there. However, that night a\nfisherman named Kerim, happening to pass by and seeing the garden\ngate open, said to himself, 'This is a time of negligence: I will\ntake advantage of it to fish.' So he went in, but had hardly cast\nhis net, when the Khalif came up alone and standing behind\nhim, knew him and called out to him, saying, 'Ho, Kerim!' The\nfisherman, hearing himself called by his name, turned round, and\nseeing the Khalif, trembled in every limb and exclaimed, 'O\nCommander of the Faithful, I did it not in mockery of the edict;\nbut poverty and distress drove me to what thou seest.' Quoth the\nKhalif, 'Make a cast in my name.' At this the fisherman was glad\nand going to the bank, cast his net, then waiting till it had\nspread out to the utmost and settled down, pulled it up and found\nin it various kinds of fish. The Khalif was pleased and said, 'O\nKerim, put off thy clothes.' So he put off a gown of coarse\nwoollen stuff, patched in a hundred places and full of disgusting\nvermin, and a turban that had not been unwound for three years,\nbut to which he had sewn every rag he came across. The Khalif\npulled off his cassock and mantle and two vests of Alexandria and\nBaalbec silk and saying to the fisherman, 'Take these and put\nthem on,' donned the latter's gown and turban and tied a chin\nband [FN#113] round the lower part of his face. Then said he to\nthe fisherman, 'Go about thy business.' So he kissed the Khalif's\nfeet and thanked him and recited the following verses:\n\nThou hast heaped benefits on me, past all that I could crave! My\n     tongue suffices not to praise thy goodness to thy slave.\nSo I will thank thee whilst I live; and when I come to die, My\n     very bones shall never cease to thank thee in the grave.\n\nHardly had he finished, when the lice began to crawl over the\nskin of the Khalif, who fell to snatching them with either hand\nfrom his neck and throwing them down, exclaiming, 'Out on thee, O\nfisherman, this gown is swarming with vermin!' 'O my lord,'\nreplied the fisherman, 'they torment thee just now, but before a\nweek has passed, thou wilt not feel them nor think of them.' The\nKhalif laughed and said, 'Out on thee! Dost thou think I mean to\nleave this gown on my body?' 'O my lord,' said the fisherman,\n'I desire to say one word to thee.' 'Say on,' answered the\nKhalif. 'It occurs to me, O Commander of the Faithful,' said the\nfisherman, 'that if thou wish to learn hunting, so thou mayst\nhave an useful trade ready to thy hand, this gown will be the\nvery thing for thee.' The Khalif laughed, and the fisherman went\nhis way. Then the Khalif took up the basket of fish, and laying a\nlittle grass over it, carried it to Jaafer and stood before him.\nJaafer, concluding that it was Kerim the fisherman, was alarmed\nfor him and said, 'O Kerim, what brings thee hither? Flee for thy\nlife, for the Khalif is in the garden to-night, and if he see\nthee, thou wilt lose thy head.' At this the Khalif laughed, and\nJaafer knew him and said, 'Surely thou art our lord the Khalif?'\n'Yes, O Jaafer,' replied he. 'And thou art my Vizier and I came\nhither with thee; yet thou knewest me not; so how should Gaffer\nIbrahim know me, and he drunk? Stay here, till I come back.' 'I\nhear and obey,' answered Jaafer. Then the Khalif went up to the\ndoor of the pavilion and knocked softly, whereupon said\nNoureddin, 'O Gaffer Ibrahim, some one knocks at the door.' 'Who\nis at the door?' cried the old man; and the Khalif replied, 'It\nis I, O Gaffer Ibrahim!' 'Who art thou?' asked the gardener. 'I,\nKerim the fisherman,' rejoined the Khalif. 'I hear thou hast\ncompany, so have brought thee some fine fish.' When Noureddin\nheard the mention of fish, he was glad, he and the damsel, and\nthey both said to Ibrahim, 'O my lord, open the door and let him\nbring the fish in to us.' So he opened the door, and the Khalif\nentered, in his fisherman's disguise, and began by saluting them.\nQuoth Ibrahim, 'Welcome to the brigand, the robber, the gambler!\nLet us see thy fish.' So the Khalif showed them the fish and\nbehold, they were still alive and moving, whereupon the damsel\nexclaimed, 'O my lord, these are indeed fine fish! Would that\nthey were fried!' 'By Allah, O my mistress,' replied Ibrahim,\n'thou art right.' Then said he to the Khalif, 'O fisherman, why\ndidst thou not bring us the fish ready fried? Go now and fry them\nand bring them to us.' 'It shall be done at once,' answered he.\nSaid they, 'Be quick about it.' So he went out, running, and\ncoming up to Jaafer, cried out, 'Hallo, Jaafer!' 'Here am I, O\nCommander of the Faithful!' replied he. 'They want the fish\nfried,' said the Khalif. 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered\nJaafer, 'give it to me and I will fry it for them.' 'By the tombs\nof my forefathers,' said the Khalif, 'none shall fry it but I,\nwith my own hand!' So he repaired to the keeper's hut, where he\nsearched and found all that he required, even to salt and saffron\nand marjoram and so forth. Then he laid the fish on the\nfrying-pan and setting it on the brazier, fried them handsomely.\nWhen they were done, he laid them on a banana-leaf, and gathering\nsome lemons from the garden, carried the dish to the pavilion and\nset it before them. So Noureddin and the damsel and Ibrahim came\nforward and ate, after which they washed their hands and\nNoureddin said to the Khalif, 'O fisherman, thou hast done us a\nright welcome service this night!' Then he put his hand to his\npouch and taking out three of the dinars that Senjer had given\nhim, said, 'O fisherman, excuse me. By Allah, had I known thee\nbefore that which has lately befallen me, I had done away the\nbitterness of poverty from thy heart; but take this as an earnest\nof my good will!' Then he threw the dinars to the Khalif, who\ntook them and kissed them and put them up. Now the Khalif's sole\ndesire in all this was to hear the damsel sing; so he said to\nNoureddin, 'O my lord, thou hast rewarded me munificently, but I\nbeg of thy great bounty that thou wilt let this damsel sing an\nair, that I may hear her.' So Noureddin said, 'O Enis el Jelis!'\n'Yes,' replied she. And he said, 'My life on thee, sing us\nsomething for the sake of this fisherman, for he wishes to hear\nthee.' So she took the lute and struck the strings, after she had\ntuned them, and sang the following verses:\n\nThe fingers of the lovely maid went wandering o'er the lute, And\n     many a soul to ravishment its music did compel.\nShe sang, and lo, her singing cured the deaf man of his ill, And\n     he that erst was dumb exclaimed, \"Thou hast indeed done\n     well!\"\n\n\nThen she played again, so admirably that she ravished their wits,\nand sang the following verses:\n\nThou honour'dst us, when thou didst in our land alight; Thy\n     lustre hath dispelled the moonless midnight gloom!\nWherefore with camphor white and rose-water and musk It e'en\n     behoveth us our dwelling to perfume.\n\nAt this the Khalif was agitated and so overcome with emotion that\nhe was not master of himself for excess of delight, and he\nexclaimed, 'By Allah, it is good! By Allah, it is good! By Allah,\nit is good!' Quoth Noureddin, 'O fisherman, doth this damsel\nplease thee?' 'Ay, by Allah!' replied he. Whereupon said\nNoureddin, 'I make thee a present of her, the present of a\ngenerous man who does not go back on his giving nor will revoke\nhis gift.' Then he sprang to his feet and taking a mantle, threw\nit over the pretended fisherman and bade him take the damsel and\nbegone. But she looked at him and said, 'O my lord, art thou\ngoing away without bidding me adieu? If it must be so, at least,\nstay whilst I bid thee farewell and make known my case.' And she\nrepeated the following verses:\n\nI am filled full of longing pain and memory and dole, Till I for\n     languor am become a body without soul.\nSay not to me, beloved one, \"Thou'lt grow consoled for me;\" When\n     such affliction holds the heart, what is there can console?\nIf that 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 thou, the love of whom doth fill my heart and overflow, Even\n     when wine, with water mixed, fills up the brimming bowl,\nO thou for whom desire torments my body and my spright! This\n     severance is the thing I feared was writ on fortune's\n     scroll.\nO thou, whose love from out my heart shall nevermore depart, O\n     son of Khacan, thou my wish, my hope unshared and whole,\nOn my account thou didst transgress against our lord and king And\n     left'st thy native land for me, to seek a foreign goal.\nThou givest me unto Kerim,[FN#114] may he for aye be praised! And\n     may th' Almighty for my loss my dearest lord console!\n\nWhen she had finished, Noureddin answered her by repeating the\nfollowing:\n\nShe bade me adieu on the day of our parting And said, whilst for\n     anguish she wept and she sighed,\n\"Ah, what wilt thou do, when from me thou art severed?\" \"Ask that\n     of the man who'll survive,\" I replied.\n\nWhen the Khalif heard what she said in her verses, 'Thou hast\ngiven me to Kerim,' his interest in her redoubled and it was\ngrievous to him to separate them; so he said to Noureddin, 'O my\nlord, verily the damsel said in her verses that thou hadst\ntransgressed against her master and him who possessed her; so\ntell me, against whom didst thou transgress and who is it that\nhas a claim on thee?' 'By Allah, O fisherman,' replied Noureddin\n'there hangs a rare story by me and this damsel, a story, which,\nwere it graven with needles on the corners of the eye, would\nserve as a lesson to him who can profit by example.' Said the\nKhalif, 'Wilt thou not tell us thy story and acquaint us with thy\ncase? Peradventure it may bring thee relief, for the help of God\nis near at hand.' 'O fisher man,' said Noureddin, 'wilt thou hear\nour story in prose or verse?' 'Prose is but words,' replied the\nKhalif, 'but verse is strung pearls.' Then Noureddin bowed his\nhead and spoke the following verses.\n\n     O my friend, I have bidden farewell to repose, And the\n          anguish of exile has doubled my woes\n     I once had a father, who loved me right dear, But left me,\n          to dwell in the tombs, where all goes.\n     There fell on me after him hardship and pain And Fate broke\n          in pieces my heart with its blows.\n     He bought me a slave-girl, the fairest of maids; Her shape\n          shamed the branch and her colour the rose.\n     I wasted the substance he left me, alas! And lavished it\n          freely on these and on those,\n     Till for need I was minded to sell the fair maid, Though\n          sorely I grudged at the parting, God knows!\n     But lo! when the crier 'gan call her for sale, A scurvy old\n          skin-flint to bid for her chose.\n     At this I was angered beyond all control And snatched her\n          away ere the crier could close;\n     Whereupon the old rancorous curmudgeon flamed up With\n          despite and beset me with insults and blows.\n     In my passion I smote him with right hand and left, Till my\n          wrath was assuaged; after which I arose\n     And returning, betook me in haste to my house, Where I hid\n          me for feat of the wrath of my foes.\n     Then the king of the city decreed my arrest: But a\n          kind-hearted chamberlain pitied my woes\n     And warned me to flee from the city forthright, Ere my\n          enemies' springes my life should enclose.\n     So we fled from our house in the dead of the night And came\n          to Baghdad for a place of repose.\n     I have nothing of value, nor treasures nor gold, Or I'd\n          handsel thee, fisherman, freely with those!\n     But I give thee, instead, the beloved of my soul, And in her\n          thou hast gotten my heart's blood, God knows!\n\nWhen he had finished, the Khalif said to him, 'O my lord\nNoureddin, explain to me thy case more fully!' So he told him the\nwhole story from beginning to end, and the Khalif said to him,\n'Whither dost thou now intend?' 'God's world is wide!' replied\nhe. Quoth the Khalif, 'I will write thee a letter to carry to the\nSultan Mohammed ben Suleiman ez Zeini, which when he reads, he\nwill do thee no hurt.' 'Who ever heard of a fisherman writing to\nkings?' said Noureddin. 'Such a thing can never be.' 'True,'\nreplied the Khalif; 'but I will tell thee the reason. Know that\nhe and I learnt in the same school, under one master, and that I\nwas his monitor. Since that time, fortune has betided him and he\nis become a Sultan, whilst God hath abased me and made me a\nfisherman: yet I never send to him to seek aught, but he does my\ndesire; nay, though I should ask of him a thousand favours a day,\nhe would comply.' When Noureddin heard this, he said, 'Good:\nwrite that I may see.' So the Khalif took pen and inkhorn and\nwrote as follows: 'In the name of God, the Compassionate, the\nMerciful! This letter is from Haroun er Reshid son of el Mehdi\nto His Highness Mohammed ben Suleiman ez Zeini, whom I have\ncompassed about with my favour and made governor for me in\ncertain of my dominions. The bearer of these presents is\nNoureddin son of Felz ben Khacan the Vizier. As soon as they come\nto thy hand, do thou put off thy kingly dignity and invest him\ntherewith, and look thou oppose not my commandment, so peace be\non thee.' Then he gave the letter to Noureddin, who took it and\nkissed it, then put it in his turban and set out at once on his\njourney. As soon as he was gone, Gaffer Ibrahim fumed to the\nKhalif and said to him, 'O vilest of fishermen, thou hast brought\nus a couple of fish, worth a score of paras, and hast gotten\nthree dinars for them; and thinkest thou to take the damsel\nalso?' When the Khalif heard this, he cried out at him and made a\nsign to Mesrour, who discovered himself and rushed upon him. Now\nJaafer had sent one of the gardeners to the doorkeeper of the\npalace for a suit of the royal raiment for the Commander of the\nFaithful; so he went and returning with the suit, kissed the\nearth before the Khalif and gave it to him. Then he threw off the\nclothes he had on and dressed himself in those which the gardener\nhad brought, to the great amazement of Gaffer Ibrahim, who bit\nhis nails in bewilderment and exclaimed, 'Am I asleep or awake?'\n'O Gaffer Ibrahim,' said the Khalif, 'what state is this in which\nI see thee?' With this, he recovered from his drunkenness and\nthrowing himself on the ground, repeated the following verses:\n\nForgive the error into which my straying feet did fall, For the\n     slave sues for clemency from him to whom he's thrall!\nLo, by confessing I have done what the offence requires! Where\n     then is that for which good grace and generous mercy call?\n\nThe Khalif forgave him and bade carry the damsel to the palace,\nwhere he assigned her a separate lodging and servants to wait\nupon her, saying to her, 'Know that we have sent thy master to be\nSultan in Bassora, and God willing, we will despatch him a dress\nof honour and thee with it.'\n\nMeanwhile, Noureddin fared on, till he reached Bassora, when he\nrepaired to the Sultan's palace and gave a loud cry. The Sultan\nheard him and sent for him; and when he came into his presence,\nhe kissed the earth before him and pulling out the letter, gave\nit to him. The Sultan, seeing that the superscription was in the\nhandwriting of the Khalif, rose to his feet and kissed the letter\nthree times, then read it and said, 'I hear and obey God and the\nCommander of the Faithful!' Then he summoned the four Cadis and\nthe Amirs and was about to divest himself of the kingly office,\nwhen in came the Vizier Muin ben Sawa. The Sultan gave him the\nKhalif's letter, and he read it, then tore it in pieces and\nputting it in his mouth, chewed it and threw it away. 'Out on\nthee!' exclaimed the Sultan (and indeed he was angry); 'what made\nthee do that?' 'By thy life, O our lord the Sultan,' replied\nMuin, 'this fellow hath never seen the Khalif nor his Vizier:\nbut he is a gallows-bird, a crafty imp who, happening upon a\nblank[FN#115] sheet in the Khalif's handwriting, hath written his\nown desire in it. The Khalif would surely not have sent him to\ntake the Sultanate from thee, without a royal mandate and a\npatent appended thereto, nor would he have omitted to send with\nhim a chamberlain or a vizier. But he is alone and hath never\ncome from the Khalif, never! never!' 'What is to be done?' said\nthe Sultan. 'Leave him to me,' replied the Vizier: 'I will send\nhim in charge of a chamberlain to the city of Baghdad. If what he\nsays be true, they will bring us back royal letters-patent and a\ndiploma of investiture; and if not, I will pay him what I owe\nhim.' When the Sultan heard the Vizier's words, he said, 'Take\nhim.' So Muin carried Noureddin to his own house and cried out to\nhis servants, who threw him down and beat him, till he swooned\naway. Then he caused heavy shackles to be put on his feet and\ncarried him to the prison, where he called the gaoler, whose name\nwas Cuteyt, and said to him, 'O Cuteyt, take this fellow and\nthrow him into one of the underground cells in the prison and\ntorture him night and day.' 'I hear and obey,' replied he, and\ntaking Noureddin into the prison, locked the door on him. Then he\nbade sweep a bench behind the door and laying  thereon a mattress\nand a leather rug, made Noureddin sit down. Moreover, he loosed\nhis fetters and treated him kindly. The Vizier sent every day to\nthe gaoler, charging him to beat him, but he abstained from this,\nand things abode thus forty days' time. On the forty-first day,\nthere came a present from the Khalif: which when the Sultan saw,\nit pleased him and he took counsel about it with his Viziers, one\nof whom said, 'Mayhap this present was intended for the new\nSultan.' Quoth Muin, 'We should have done well to put him to\ndeath at his first coming;' and the Sultan said, 'By Allah, thou\nremindest me of him! Go down to the prison and fetch him, and I\nwill strike off his head.' 'I hear end obey,' replied Muin. 'With\nthy leave I will have proclamation made in the city, \"Whoso hath\na mind to look upon the beheading of Noureddin Ali ben Khacan,\nlet him repair to the palace!\" So, great and small will come out\nto gaze on him and I shall heal my heart and mortify those that\nenvy me.' 'As thou wilt,' said the Sultan; whereupon the Vizier\nwent out, rejoicing, and commanded the chief of the police to\nmake the aforesaid proclamation. When the folk heard the crier,\nthey all mourned and wept, even to the little ones in the schools\nand the tradersin the shops, and some hastened to get them places\nto see the sight, whilst others repaired to the prison thinking\nto accompany him thence. Presently, the Vizier came to the\nprison, attended by ten armed slaves, and the gaoler said to him,\n'What seekest thou, O our lord the Vizier?' 'Bring me that\ngallows-bird,' replied the Vizier; and the gaoler said, 'He is in\nthe sorriest of plights for the much beating I have given him.'\nThen Cuteyt went into the prison, where he found Noureddin\nrepeating the following verses:\n\nWho shall avail me against the woes that my life enwind? Indeed\n     my disease is sore and the remedy hard to find.\nExile hath worn my heart and my spirit with languishment, And\n     evil fortune hath turned my very lovers unkind.\nO folk, is there none of you all will answer my bitter cry! Is\n     there never a merciful friend will help me of all mankind?\nYet death and the pains of death are a little thing to me; I have\n     put off the hope of life and left its sweets behind.\nO Thou that sentest the Guide, the Chosen Prophet to men, The\n     Prince of the Intercessors, gifted to loose and bind,\nI prithee, deliver me and pardon me my default, And put the\n     troubles to flight that crush me, body and mind I\n\nThe gaoler took off his clean clothes and clothing him in two\nfilthy garments, carried him to the Vizier. Noureddin looked at\nhim, and knowing him for his enemy who still sought to compass\nhis death, wept and said to him, 'Art thou then secure against\nFate? Hast thou not heard the saying of the poet?\n\nWhere are now the old Chosroes, tyrants of a bygone day? Wealth\n     they gathered; but their treasures and themselves have\n     passed away!\n\nO Vizier,' continued he, 'know that God (blessed and exalted be\nHe!) doth whatever He will!' 'O Ali,' replied the Vizier, 'dost\nthou think to fright me with this talk? Know that I mean this day\nto strike off thy head in despite of the people of Bassora, and\nlet the days do what they will, I care not; nor will I take\nthought to thy warning, but rather to what the poet says:\n\nLet the days do what they will, without debate, And brace thy\n     spirit against the doings of Fate.\n\nAnd also how well says another:\n\nHe who lives a day after his foe Hath compassed his wishes, I\n     trow!\n\nThen he ordered his attendants to set Noureddin on the back of a\nmule, and they said to the youth (for indeed it was grievous to\nthem), 'Let us stone him and cut him in pieces, though it cost us\nour lives.' 'Do it not,' replied Noureddin. 'Have ye not heard\nwhat the poet says?\n\nA term's decreed for me, which I must needs fulfil, And when its\n     days are spent, I die, do what I will.\nThough to their forest dens the lions should me drag, Whilst but\n     an hour remains, they have no power to kill.'\n\nThen they proceeded to proclaim before Noureddin, 'This is the\nleast of the punishment of those who impose upon kings with\nforgery!' And they paraded him round about Bassora, till they\ncame beneath the windows of the palace, where they made him kneel\ndown on the carpet of blood and the headsman came up to him and\nsaid, 'O my lord, I am but a slave commanded in this matter: if\nthou hast any desire, let me know, that I may fulfil it; for now\nthere remains of thy life but till the Sultan shall put his head\nout of the window.' So Noureddin looked in all directions and\nrepeated the following verses:\n\nI see the headsman and the sword, I see the carpet spread, And\n     cry \"Alas, my sorry plight! Alas, my humbled head!\"\nHow is't I have no pitying friend to help me in my need? Will no\n     one answer my complaint or heed the tears I shed?\nMy time of life is past away and death draws nigh to me: Will no\n     one earn the grace of God by standing me in stead?\nWill none take pity on my state and succour my despair With but a\n     cup of water cold, to ease my torments dread?\n\nThe people fell to weeping for him, and the headsman rose and\nbrought him a draught of water; but the Vizier smote the gugglet\nwith his hand and broke it: then he cried out at the executioner\nand bade him strike off Noureddin's head. So he proceeded to bind\nthe latter's eyes; whilst the people cried out against the Vizier\nand there befell a great tumult and dispute amongst them. At this\nmoment there arose a great cloud of dust and filled the air and\nthe plain; and when the Sultan, who was sitting in the palace,\nsaw this, he said to his attendants, 'Go and see what is the\nmeaning of that cloud of dust.' 'When we have cut off this\nfellow's head,' replied Muin; but the Sultan said, 'Wait till we\nsee what this means.'\n\nNow the cloud of dust in question was raised by Jaafer the\nBarmecide, Vizier to the Khalif, and his retinue; and the reason\nof his coming was as follows. The Khalif passed thirty days\nwithout calling to mind the affair of Noureddin Ali ben Khacan,\nand none reminded him of it, till one night, as he passed by the\napartment of Enis el Jelis, he heard her weeping and reciting the\nfollowing verse, in a low and sweet voice:\n\nThine image is ever before me, though thou art far away, Nor doth\n     my tongue give over the naming of thee aye!\n\nAnd her weeping redoubled; when lo, the Khalif opened the door\nand entering the chamber, found her in tears. When she saw him,\nshe fell to the earth and kissing his feet three times, repeated\nthe following verses:\n\nO thou pure of royal lineage and exalted in thy birth! O thou\n     tree of fruitful branches, thou the all unstained of race!\nI recall to thee the promise that thy noble bounty made: God\n     forbid thou shouldst forget it or withhold the gifted grace!\n\nQuoth the Khalif, 'Who art thou?' And she answered, 'I am she\nwhom thou hadst as a present from Noureddin Ali ben Khacan, and I\ncrave the fulfilment of thy promise to send me to him with the\ndress of honour; for I have now been here thirty days, without\ntasting sleep.' Thereupon the Khalif sent for Jaafer and said to\nhim, 'O Jaafer, it is thirty days since we had news of Noureddin\nAli ben Khacan, and I doubt me the Sultan has killed him; but by\nthe life of my head and the tombs of my forefathers, if aught of\nill have befallen him, I will make an end of him who was the\ncause of it, though he be the dearest of all men to myself! So it\nis my wish that thou set out at once for Bassora and bring me\nnews of my cousin Mohammed ben Suleiman ez Zeini and how he hath\ndealt with Noureddin; and do thou tell my cousin the young man's\nhistory and how I sent him to him with my letter, and if thou\nfind that the King hath done otherwise than after my commandment,\nlay hands on him and his Vizier Muin ben Sawa and bring them to\nus, as thou shalt find them. Nor do thou tarry longer on the road\nthan shall suffice for the journey, or I will strike off thy\nhead.' 'I hear and obey,' replied Jaafer, and made ready at once\nand set out for Bassora, where he arrived in due course. When he\ncame up and saw the crowd and turmoil, he enquired what was the\nmatter and was told how it stood with Noureddin Ali, whereupon he\nhastened to go in to the Sultan and saluting him, acquainted him\nwith his errand and the Khalif's determination, in case of any\nfoul play having befallen Noureddin, to destroy whosoever should\nhave been the cause of it. Then he seized upon the Sultan and his\nVizier and laid them in ward, and commanding Noureddin to be\nreleased, seated him on the throne in the place of Mohammed ben\nSuleiman. After this Jaafer abode three days at Bassora, the\nusual guest-time, and on the morning of the fourth day, Noureddin\nturned to him and said, 'I long for the sight of the Commander of\nthe Faithful.' Then said Jaafer to Mohammed ben Suleiman, 'Make\nready, for we will pray the morning-prayer and take horse for\nBaghdad.' And he answered, 'I hear and obey.' So they prayed the\nmorning-prayer and set out, all of them, taking with them the\nVizier Muin ben Sawa, who began to repent of what he had done.\nNoureddin rode by Jaafer's side and they fared on without\nceasing, till they arrived in due course at the Abode of Peace,\nBaghdad, and going in to the Khalif's presence, told him how\nthey had found Noureddin nigh upon death. The Khalif said to\nNoureddin, 'Take this sword and strike off thine enemy's head.'\nSo he took the sword and went up to Muin ben Sawa, but the latter\nlooked at him and said, 'I did according to my nature; do thou\naccording to thine.' So Noureddin threw the sword from his hand\nand said to the Khalif, 'O Commander of the Faithful, he hath\nbeguiled me with his speech,' and he repeated the following\nverse:\n\nLo, with the cunning of his speech my heart he hath beguiled, For\n     generous minds are ever moved by artful words and mild!\n\n'Leave him, thou,' said the Khalif, and turning to Mesrour,\ncommanded him to behead Muin. So Mesrour drew his sword and smote\noff the Vizier's head. Then said the Khalif to Noureddin, 'Ask a\nboon of me.' 'O my lord,' answered he, 'I have no need of the\nsovereignty of Bassora: all my desire is to have the honour of\nserving thee and looking on thy face.' 'With all my heart,'\nreplied the Khalif. Then he sent for Enis el Jelis and bestowed\nplentiful favours upon them both, assigning them a palace at\nBaghdad and regular allowances. Moreover, he made Noureddin one\nof his boon-companions, and the latter abode with him in the\nenjoyment of the most delectable life, till Death overtook him.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n              GHANIM BEN EYOUB THE SLAVE OF LOVE.\n\n\n\nThere lived once at Damascus, in the days of the Khalif Haroun er\nReshid, a wealthy merchant, who had a son like the moon at its\nfull and withal sweet of speech, called Ghanim ben Eyoub, and a\ndaughter called Fitneh, unique in her beauty and grace. Their\nfather died and left them abundant wealth and amongst other\nthings a hundred loads of silk and brocade and bladders of musk,\non each of which was written, 'This is of the loads intended for\nBaghdad,' he having been about to make the journey thither, when\nGod the Most High took him to Himself. After awhile, his son took\nthe loads and bidding farewell to his mother and kindred and\ntownsfolk, set out for Baghdad with a company of merchants,\ncommitting himself to God the Most High, who decreed him safety,\nso that he arrived without hindrance at that city. Here he hired\na handsome house, which he furnished with carpets and cushions\nand hangings, and stored his goods therein and put up his mules\nand camels. Then he abode awhile, resting, whilst the merchants\nand notables of Baghdad came and saluted him; after which he took\na parcel containing ten pieces of costly stuffs, with the prices\nwritten on them, and carried it to the bazaar, where the\nmerchants received him with honour and made him sit down in the\nshop of the chief of the market, to whom he delivered the parcel\nof stuffs. He opened it and taking out the stuffs, sold them for\nhim at a profit of two dinars on every one of prime cost. At this\nGhanim rejoiced and went on to sell his stuffs, little by little,\nfor a whole year. On the first day of the following year, he\nrepaired, as usual, to the bazaar in the market-place, but found\nthe gate shut and enquiring the reason, was told that one of the\nmerchants was dead and that all the others had gone to wail in\nhis funeral and was asked if he were minded to gain the favour of\nGod by going with them. He assented and enquired where the\nfuneral was to be held, whereupon they directed him to the place.\nSo he made the ablution and repaired with the other merchants to\nthe place of prayer, where they prayed over the dead, then went\nbefore the bier to the burial-place without the city and passed\namong the tombs till they came to the grave. Here they found that\nthe dead man's people had pitched a tent over the tomb and\nbrought thither lamps and candles. So they buried the dead and\nsat down to listen to the reading of the Koran over the tomb.\nGhanim sat with them, being overcome with bashfulness and saying\nto himself, 'I cannot well go away till they do.' They sat\nlistening to the recitation till nightfall, when the servants set\nthe evening meal and sweetmeats before them and they ate till\nthey were satisfied, then sat down again, after having washed\ntheir hands. But Ghanim was troubled for his house and property\nbeing in fear of thieves, and said to himself, 'I am a stranger\nhere and thought to be rich, and if I pass the night abroad, the\nthieves will steal the money and the goods.' So he arose and left\nthe company, having first asked leave to go about a necessary\nbusiness, and following the beaten track, came to the gate of the\ncity, but found it shut and saw none going or coming nor heard\naught but the dogs barking and the wolves howling, for it was now\nthe middle of the night. At this he exclaimed, 'There is no power\nand no virtue but in God! I was in fear for my property and came\nback on its account, but now I find the gate shut and am become\nin fear for my life!' And he retraced his steps, seeking a place\nwhere he might pass the night, till he found a tomb enclosed by\nfour walls, with a palm-tree in its midst and a gate of granite.\nThe gate stood open; so he entered and lay down, but sleep came\nnot to him and fright and oppression beset him, for that he was\nalone among the tombs. So he rose to his feet and opening the\ndoor, looked out and saw, in the distance, a light making for the\ntomb from the direction of the city-gate. At this he was afraid\nand hastening to shut the gate, climbed up into the palm-tree and\nhid himself among the branches. The light came nearer and nearer,\ntill he could see three black slaves, two carrying a chest and a\nthird a lantern, an adze and a basket of plaster. When they came\nto the tomb, one of those who were carrying the chest cried out\nto the other, 'Hello, Sewab!' 'What ails thee, O Kafour?' said\nthe other. 'Were we not here at nightfall,' asked the first, 'and\ndid we not leave the gate open?' 'True,' replied Sewab. 'See,'\nsaid the other, 'it is now shut and barred.' 'How small is your\nwit!' broke in the bearer of the lantern, whose name was Bekhit.\n'Do ye not know that the owners of the gardens use to come out of\nBaghdad to tend them, and when the night overtakes them, they\nenter this place and shut the gate, for fear the blacks like\nourselves should catch them and roast them and eat them?' 'Thou\nart right,' replied the others; 'but, by Allah, none of us is\nless of wit than thou!' 'If you do not believe me,' said Bekhit,\n'let us go into the tomb and I will unearth the rat for you; I\ndoubt not but that, when he saw the light and us making for the\ntomb, he took refuge in the palm-tree, for fear of us.' When\nGhanim heard this, he said to himself, 'O most damnable of\nslaves, may God not have thee in His keeping for this thy craft\nand quickness of wit! There is no power and no virtue but in God\nthe Most High, the Supreme! How shall I escape from these\nblacks?' Then said the two bearers to him of the lantern, 'Climb\nover the wall and open the door to us, O Bekhit, for we are tired\nof carrying the chest on our shoulders; and thou shalt have one\nof those that we seize inside, and we will fry him for thee so\nfeatly that not a drop of his fat shall be lost.' But he said, 'I\nam afraid of somewhat that my little sense has suggested to me;\nwe should do better to throw the chest over the wall; for it is\nour treasure.' 'If we throw it over, it will break,' replied\nthey. And he said, 'I fear lest there be brigands within who kill\nfour and steal their goods; for they are wont when night falls on\nthem, to enter these places and divide their spoil.' 'O thou of\nlittle wit!' rejoined they, 'how could they get in here?' Then\nthey set down the chest and climbing the wall, got down and\nopened the gate, whilst Bekhit held the light for them, after\nwhich they shut the door and sat down. Then said one of them, 'O\nmy brothers, we are tired with walking and carrying the chest,\nand it is now the middle of the night, and we have no breath left\nto open the tomb and bury the chest: so let us rest two or three\nhours, then rise and do what we have to do. Meanwhile each of us\nshall tell how he came to be an eunuch and all that befell him\nfrom first to last, to pass away the time, whilst we rest\nourselves.' 'Good,' answered the others; and Bekhit said, 'O my\nbrothers, I will begin.' 'Say on,' replied they. So he began as\nfollows, 'Know, O my brothers, that\n\n\n\n\n\nStory of the Eunuch Bekhit.\n\n\n\nI was brought from my native country, when I was five years old,\nby a slave-merchant, who sold me to one of the royal messengers.\nMy master had a three-year-old daughter, with whom I was reared,\nand they used to make sport of me, letting me play with the girl\nand dance and sing to her, till I reached the age of twelve and\nshe that of ten; and even then they did not forbid me from her.\nOne day, I went in to her and found her sitting in an inner room,\nperfumed with essences and scented woods, and her face shone like\nthe round of the moon on its fourteenth night, as if she had just\ncome out of the bath that was in the house. She began to sport\nwith me, and I with her. Now I had just reached the age of\npuberty, and my yard rose on end, as it were a great bolt. Then\nshe threw me down and mounting my breast, pulled me hither and\nthither, till my yard became uncovered. When she saw this, and it\nin point, she seized it in her hand and fell to rubbing it\nagainst the lips of her kaze, outside her trousers. At this, heat\nstirred in me and I put my arms round her, whilst she wreathed\nhers about my neck and strained me to her with all her might,\ntill, before I knew what I did, my yard thrust through her\ntrousers, and entering her kaze, did away her maidenhead. When I\nsaw what I had done, I fled and took refuge with one of my\ncomrades. Presently, her mother came in to her, and seeing her in\nthis state, was lost to the world. However, she smoothed the\nmatter over and hid the girl's condition from her father, of the\nlove they bore me, nor did they cease to call to me and coax me,\ntill they took me from where I was. After two months had passed\nby, her mother married her to a young man, a barber, who used to\nshave her father, and portioned and fitted her out of her own\nmonies, whilst her father knew nothing of what had passed. Then\nthey took me unawares and gelded me: and when they brought her to\nher husband, they made me her eunuch, to go before her, wherever\nshe went, whether to the bath or to her father's house. On the\nwedding-night, they slaughtered a young pigeon and sprinkled the\nblood on her shift;[FN#116] and I abode with her a long while,\nenjoying her beauty and grace, by way of kissing and clipping and\nclicketing, till she died and her husband and father and mother\ndied also; when they seized me for the Treasury and I found\nmy way hither, where I became your comrade. This then, O my\nbrothers, is my story and how I came to be docked of my cullions;\nand peace be on you.' Then said the second eunuch, 'Know, O my\nbrothers, that\n\n\n\n\n\nStory of the Eunuch Kafour.\n\n\n\nFrom the time when I was eight years old, I was wont to tell the\nslave-merchants one lie every year, so that they fell out with\none another, till at last my master lost patience with me and\ncarrying me down to the market, delivered me to a broker and bade\nhim cry me for sale, saying, \"Who will buy this slave with his\nfault?\" He did so, and it was asked him, \"What is his fault?\"\nQuoth he, \"He tells one lie every year.\" Then came up one of the\nmerchants and said to the broker, \"How much have they bidden for\nthis slave, with his fault?\" \"Six hundred dirhems,\" replied the\nbroker. \"And twenty dirhems for thyself,\" said the merchant. So\nhe brought him to the slave-dealer, who took the money, and the\nbroker carried me to my master's house and went away, after\nhaving received his brokerage. The merchant clothed me as\nbefitted my condition, and I bode in his service the rest of the\nyear, until the new year came in with good omen. It was a blessed\nseason, rich in herbage and the fruits of the earth, and the\nmerchants began to give entertainments every day, each bearing\nthe cost in turn, till it came to my master's turn to entertain\nthem in a garden without the city. So he and the other merchants\nrepaired to the garden, taking with them all that they required\nof food and so forth, and sat, eating and drinking and carousing,\ntill noon, when my master, having need of something from the\nhouse, said to me, \"O slave, mount the mule and go to the house\nand get such and such a thing from thy mistress and return\nquickly.\" I did as he bade me and started for the house, but as I\ndrew near, I began to cry out and weep copiously, whereupon all\nthe people of the quarter collected, great and small; and my\nmaster's wife and daughters, hearing the noise I was making,\nopened the door and asked me what was the matter. Quoth I, \"My\nmaster and his friends were sitting beneath an old wall, and it\nfell on them: and when I saw what had befallen them, I mounted\nthe mule and came hither, in haste, to tell you.\" When my\nmaster's wife and daughters heard this, they shrieked aloud\nand tore their clothes and buffeted their faces, whilst the\nneighbours came round them. Then my mistress overturned the\nfurniture of the house, pell-mell, tore down the shelves, broke\nup the casements and the lattices and smeared the walls with mud\nand indigo. Presently she said to me, \"Out on thee, O Kafour!\nCome and help me tear down these cupboards and break up these\nvessels and porcelain!\" So I went to her and helped her break up\nall the shelves in the house, with everything on them, after\nwhich I went round about the roofs and every part of the house,\ndemolishing all I could and leaving not a single piece of china\nor the like in the house unbroken, till I had laid waste the\nwhole place, crying out the while, \"Alas, my master!\" Then my\nmistress sallied forth, with her face uncovered and only her\nkerchief on, accompanied by her sons and daughters, and said to\nme, \"Go thou before us and show us the place where thy master\nlies dead under the wall, that we may take him out from the ruins\nand lay him on a bier and carry him to the house and give him a\ngoodly funeral.\" So I went on before them, crying out, \"Alas, my\nmaster!\" and they after me, bareheaded, crying out, \"Alas! Alas\nfor the man!\" And there was not a man nor a woman nor a boy nor\nan old woman in the quarter but followed us, buffeting their\nfaces and weeping sore. On this wise, I traversed the city with\nthem, and the folk asked what was the matter, whereupon they told\nthem what they had heard from me, and they exclaimed, \"There is\nno power and no virtue but in God!\" Then said one of them, \"He\nwas a man of consideration; so let us go to the chief of the\npolice and tell him what has happened.\" So they repaired to the\nmagistrate and told him, whereupon he mounted and taking with him\nworkmen with spades and baskets, set out for the scene of the\naccident, following my track, with all the people after him. I\nran on before them, buffeting my face and throwing dust on my\nhead and crying out, followed by my mistress and her children,\nshrieking aloud. But I outran them and reached the garden before\nthem, and when my master saw me in this state and heard me crying\nout, \"Alas, my mistress! Alas! Alas! Who is left to take pity on\nme, now that my mistress is dead? Would God I had died instead of\nher!\" he was confounded and his colour paled. Then said he to me,\n\"What ails thee, O Kafour? What is the matter?\" \"O my lord,\"\nreplied I, \"When thou sentest me to the house, I found that the\nwall of the saloon had given way and the whole of it had fallen\nin upon my mistress and her children.\" \"And did not thy mistress\nescape?\" \"No, by Allah, O my master!\" answered I. \"Not one of\nthem was saved, and the first to die was my mistress, thine elder\ndaughter.\" \"Did not my younger daughter escape?\" asked he. \"No,\"\nreplied I; and he said, \"What became of the mule I use to ride?\nWas she saved?\" \"No, by Allah,\" answered I; \"the walls of the\nhouse and of the stable fell in on all that were in the dwelling,\neven to the sheep and geese and fowls, so that they all became a\nheap of flesh and the dogs ate them: not one of them is saved.\"\n\"Not even thy master, my elder son?\" asked he. \"No, by Allah!\"\nrepeated I. \"Not one of them was saved, and now there remains\nneither house nor inhabitants nor any trace of them: and as for\nthe sheep and geese and fowls, the dogs and cats have eaten\nthem.\" When my master heard this, the light in his eyes became\ndarkness and he lost command of his senses and his reason, so\nthat he could not stand upon his feet, for he was as one taken\nwith the rickets and his back was broken. Then he rent his\nclothes and plucked out his beard and casting his turban from his\nhead, buffeted his face, till the blood streamed down, crying\nout, \"Alas, my children! Alas, my wife! Alas, what a misfortune!\nTo whom did there ever happen the like of what hath befallen me?\"\nThe other merchants, his companions, joined in his tears and\nlamentations and rent their clothes, being moved to pity of his\ncase; and my master went out of the garden' buffeting his face\nand staggering like a drunken man, for stress of what had\nbefallen him and the much beating he had given his face. As he\ncame forth of the garden-gate, followed by the other merchants,\nbehold, they saw a great cloud of dust and heard a great noise of\ncrying and lamentation. They looked, and behold, it was the chief\nof the police with his officers and the townspeople who had come\nout to look on, and my master's family in front of them, weeping\nsore and shrieking and lamenting. The first to accost my master\nwere his wife and children; and when he saw them, he was\nconfounded and laughed and said to them, \"How is it with you all\nand what befell you in the house?\" When they saw him, they\nexclaimed, \"Praised be God for thy safety!\" and threw themselves\nupon him, and his children clung to him, crying, \"Alas, our\nfather! Praised be God for thy preservation, O our father!\" Then\nsaid his wife, \"Thou art well, praised be God who hath shown us\nthy face in safety!\" And indeed she was confounded and her reason\nfled, when she saw him, and she said, \"O my lord, how did you\nescape, thou and thy friends the merchants?\" \"And how fared it\nwith thee in the house?\" asked he. \"We were all in good health\nand case,\" answered they; \"nor has aught befallen us in the\nhouse, save that thy slave Kafour came to us, bareheaded, with\nhis clothes torn and crying out, 'Alas, my master! Alas, my\nmaster!' So we asked what was the matter, and he said, 'The wall\nof the garden has fallen on my master and his friends, and they\nare all dead.'\" \"By Allah,\" said my master, \"he came to me but\nnow, crying out, 'Alas, my mistress! Alas, her children!' and\nsaid, 'My mistress and her children are all dead.'\" Then he\nlooked round and seeing me with my torn turban hanging down my\nneck, shrieking and weeping violently and strewing earth on my\nhead, cried out at me. So I came to him and he said, \"Woe to\nthee, O pestilent slave, O whore-son knave, O accurst of race!\nWhat mischiefs hast thou wrought! But I will strip thy skin from\nthy flesh and cut thy flesh off thy bones!\" \"By Allah,\" replied\nI, \"thou canst do nothing with me, for thou boughtest me with my\nfault, with witnesses to testify against thee that thou didst so\nand that thou knewest of my fault, which is that I tell one lie\nevery year. This is but half a lie, but by the end of the year, I\nwill tell the other half, and it will then be a whole lie.\" \"O\ndog, son of a dog,\" exclaimed my master, \"O most accursed of\nslaves, is this but a half lie? Indeed, it is a great calamity!\nGo out from me; thou art free before God!\" \"By Allah,\" rejoined\nI, \"if thou free me, I will not free thee, till I have completed\nmy year and told the other half lie. When that is done, take me\ndown to the market and sell me, as thou boughtest me, to\nwhosoever will buy me with my fault: but free me not, for I have\nno handicraft to get my living by: and this my demand is\naccording to the law, as laid down by the doctors in the chapter\nof Manumission.\" Whilst we were talking, up came the people of\nthe quarter and others, men and women, together with the chief of\nthe police and his suite. So my master and the other merchants\nwent up to him and told him the story and how this was but half a\nlie, at which the people wondered and deemed the lie an enormous\none. And they cursed me and reviled me, whilst I stood laughing\nand saying, \"How can my master kill me, when he bought me with\nthis fault?\" Then my master returned home and found his house in\nruins, and it was I who had laid waste the most part of it,\nhaving destroyed things worth much money, as had also done his\nwife, who said to him, \"It was Kafour who broke the vessels and\nthe china.\" Thereupon his rage redoubled and he beat hand upon\nhand, exclaiming, \"By Allah, never in my life did I see such a\nson of shame as this slave; and he says this is only half a lie!\nHow if he had told a whole one? He would have laid waste a city\nor two!\" Then in his rage he went to the chief of the police, who\nmade me eat stick till I fainted: and whilst I was yet senseless,\nthey fetched a barber, who gelded me and cauterized the parts.\nWhen I revived, I found myself an eunuch, and my master said to\nme, \"Even as thou hast made my heart bleed for the most precious\nthings I had, so will I grieve thy heart for that of thy members\nby which thou settest most store.\" Then he took me and sold me at\na profit, for that I was become an eunuch, and I ceased not to\nmake trouble, wherever I came, and was shifted from Amir to Amir\nand notable to notable, being bought and sold, till I entered the\npalace of the Commander of the Faithful, and now my spirit is\nbroken and I have abjured my tricks, having lost my manhood.'\n\nWhen the others heard his story, they laughed and said, 'Verily,\nthou art dung, the son of dung! Thou liedst most abominably!'\nThen said they to the third slave, 'Tell us thy story.' 'O my\ncousins,' replied he, 'all that ye have said is idle: I will tell\nyou how I came to lose my cullions, and indeed, I deserved more\nthan this, for I swived my mistress and my master's son: but my\nstory is a long one and this is no time to tell it, for the dawn\nis near, and if the day surprise us with this chest yet unburied,\nwe shall be blown upon and lose our lives. So let us fall to work\nat once, and when we get back to the palace, I will tell you my\nstory and how I became an eunuch.' So they set down the lantern\nand dug a hole between four tombs, the length and breadth of the\nchest, Kafour plying the spade and Sewab clearing away the earth\nby basketsful, till they had reached a depth of half a fathom,\nwhen they laid the chest in the hole and threw back the earth\nover it: then went out and shutting the door, disappeared from\nGhanim's sight. When he was sure that they were indeed gone and\nthat he was alone in the place, his heart was concerned to know\nwhat was in the chest and he said to himself; 'I wonder what was\nin the chest!' However, he waited till break of day, when he came\ndown from the palm-tree and scraped away the earth with his\nhands, till he laid bare the chest and lifted it out of the hole.\nThen he took a large stone and hammered at the lock, till he\nbroke it and raising the cover, beheld a beautiful young lady,\nrichly dressed and decked with jewels of gold and necklaces of\nprecious stones, worth a kingdom, no money could pay their price.\nShe was asleep and her breath rose and fell, as if she had been\ndrugged. When Ghanim saw her, he knew that some one had plotted\nagainst her and drugged her; so he pulled her out of the chest\nand laid her on the ground on her back. As soon as she scented\nthe breeze and the air entered her nostrils and lungs, she\nsneezed and choked and coughed, when there fell from her mouth a\npastille of Cretan henbane, enough to make an elephant sleep from\nnight to night, if he but smelt it. Then she opened her eyes and\nlooking round, exclaimed in a sweet and melodious voice, 'Out on\nthee, O breeze! There is in thee neither drink for the thirsty\nnor solace for him whose thirst is quenched! Where is Zehr el\nBustan?' But no one answered her; so she turned and cried out,\n'Ho, Sebiheh, Shejeret ed Durr, Nour el Huda, Nejmet es Subh,\nShehweh, Nuzheh, Hulweh, Zerifeh![FN#117] Out on ye, speak!'\nBut no one answered her; and she looked about her and said,\n'Woe is me! they have buried me among the tombs! O Thou who\nknowest what is in the breasts and who wilt requite at the Day of\nResurrection, who hath brought me out from among the screens and\ncurtains of the harem and laid me between four tombs?' All this\nwhile Ghanim was standing by: then he said to her, 'O my lady,\nhere are neither screens nor curtains nor palaces; only thy bond\nslave Ghanim ben Eyoub, whom He who knoweth the hidden things\nhath brought hither, that he night save thee from these perils\nand accomplish for thee all that thou desirest.' And he was\nsilent. When she saw how the case stood, she exclaimed, 'I\ntestify that there is no god but God and that Mohammed is the\nApostle of God!' Then she put her hands to her face and turning\nto Ghanim, said in a sweet voice, 'O blessed youth, who brought\nme hither! See, I am now come to myself.' 'O my lady,' replied\nhe, 'three black eunuchs came hither, bearing this chest;' and\ntold her all that had happened and how his being belated had\nproved the means of her preservation from death by suffocation.\nThen he asked her who she was and what was her story. 'O youth,'\nsaid she, 'praised be God who hath thrown me into the hands of\nthe like of thee! But now put me back into the chest and go out\ninto the road and hire the first muleteer or horse-letter thou\nmeetest, to carry it to thy house. When I am there, all will be\nwell and I will tell thee my story and who am I, and good shall\nbetide thee on my account.' At this he rejoiced and went out into\nthe road. It was now broad day and the folk began to go about the\nways: so he hired a muleteer and bringing him to the tomb, lifted\nup the chest, in which he had already replaced the young lady,\nand set it on the mule. Then he fared homeward, rejoicing, for\nthat she was a damsel worth ten thousand dinars and adorned with\njewels and apparel of great value, and love for her had fallen on\nhis heart. As soon as he came to the house, he carried in the\nchest and opening it, took out the young lady, who looked about\nher, and seeing that the place was handsome, spread with carpets\nand decked with gay colours, and noting the stuffs tied up and\nthe bales of goods and what not, knew that he was a considerable\nmerchant and a man of wealth. So she uncovered her face and\nlooking at him, saw that he was a handsome young man and loved\nhim. Then said she to him, 'O my lord, bring us something to\neat.' 'On my head and eyes,' replied he, and going to the market,\nbought a roasted lamb, a dish of sweetmeats, dried fruits and wax\ncandles, besides wine and drinking gear and perfumes. With these\nhe returned to the house, and when the damsel saw him, she\nlaughed and kissed and embraced him. Then she fell to caressing\nhim, so that love for her redoubled on him and got the mastery of\nhis heart. They ate and drank, each in love with the other, for\nindeed they were alike in age and beauty, till nightfall, when\nGhanim rose and lit the lamps and candles, till the place blazed\nwith light; after which he brought the wine-service and set on\nthe banquet. Then they sat down again and began to fill and give\neach other to drink; and they toyed and laughed and recited\nverses, whilst joy grew on them and each was engrossed with love\nof the other, glory be to Him, who uniteth hearts! They ceased\nnot to carouse thus till near upon daybreak, when drowsiness\novercame them and they slept where they were till the morning.\nThen Ghanim arose and going to the market, bought all that they\nrequired in the way of meat and drink and vegetables and what\nnot, with which he returned to the house; and they both sat down\nand ate till they were satisfied, when he set on wine. They drank\nand toyed with each other, till their cheeks flushed and their\neyes sparkled and Ghanim's soul yearned to kiss the girl and lie\nwith her. So he said to her, 'O my lady, grant me a kiss of thy\nmouth; maybe it will quench the fire of my heart.' 'O Ghanim,'\nreplied she, 'wait till I am drunk: then steal a kiss from me, so\nthat I may not know thou hast kissed me.' Then she rose and\ntaking off her upper clothes, sat in a shift of fine linen and a\nsilken kerchief. At this, desire stirred in Ghanim and he said to\nher, 'O my mistress, wilt thou not vouchsafe me what I asked of\nthee!' 'By Allah,' replied she, 'this may not be, for there is a\nstubborn saying written on the ribbon of my trousers.' Thereupon\nGhanim's heart sank and passion grew on him the more that what he\nsought was hard to get; and he recited the following verses:\n\nI sought of her who caused my pain A kiss to ease me of my woe.\n\"No, no!\" she answered; \"hope it not!\" And I, \"Yes, yes! It shall\n     be so!\"\nThen said she, smiling, \"Take it then, With my consent, before I\n     know.\"\nAnd I, \"By force!\" \"Not so,\" said she: \"I freely it on thee\n     bestow.\"\nSo do not question what befell, But seek God's grace and ask no\n     mo;\nThink what thou wilt of us; for love Is with suspect made sweet,\n     I trow.\nNor do I reck if, after this, Avowed or secret be the foe.\n\nThen love increased on him, and the fires were loosed in his\nheart, while she defended herself from him, saying, 'I can never\nbe thine.' They ceased not to make love and carouse, whilst\nGhanim was drowned in the sea of passion and distraction and she\nredoubled in cruelty and coyness, till the night brought in the\ndarkness and let fall on them the skirts of sleep, when Ghanim\nrose and lit the lamps and candles and renewed the banquet and\nthe flowers; then took her feet and kissed them, and finding them\nlike fresh cream, pressed his face on them and said to her, 'O my\nlady, have pity on the captive of thy love and the slain of thine\neyes; for indeed I were whole of heart but for thee!' And he wept\nawhile. 'O my lord and light of my eyes,' replied she, 'by Allah,\nI love thee and trust in thee, but I know that I cannot be\nthine.' 'And what is there to hinder?' asked he. Quoth she,\n'Tonight, I will tell thee my story, that thou mayst accept my\nexcuse.' Then she threw herself upon him and twining her arms\nabout his neck, kissed him and wheedled him, promising him her\nfavours; and they continued to toy and laugh till love got\ncomplete possession of them. They abode thus for a whole month,\nsleeping nightly on one couch, but whenever he sought to enjoy\nher, she put him off, whilst mutual love increased upon them,\ntill they could hardly abstain from one another. One night as\nthey lay, side by side, both heated with wine, he put his hand to\nher breast and stroked it, then passed it down over her stomach\nto her navel. She awoke and sitting up, put her hand to her\ntrousers and finding them fast, fell asleep again. Presently, he\nput out his hand a second time and stroked her and sliding down\nto the ribbon of her trousers, began to pull at it, whereupon she\nawoke and sat up. Ghanim also sat up beside her and she said to\nhim, 'What dost thou want?' 'I want to lie with thee,' answered\nhe, 'and that we may deal frankly one with the other.' Quoth she,\n'I must now expound my case to thee, that thou mayst know my\ncondition and my secret and that my excuse may be manifest to\nthee.' 'It is well,' replied he. Then she opened the skirt of her\nshift, and taking up the ribbon of her trousers, said to him, 'O\nmy lord, read what is on this ribbon.' So he took it and saw,\nwrought in letters of gold, the following words, 'I am thine, and\nthou art mine, O descendant of the Prophet's Uncle!' When he read\nthis, he dropped his hand and said to her, 'Tell me who thou\nart.' 'It is well,' answered she; 'know that I am one of the\nfavourites of the Commander of the Faithful and my name is Cout\nel Culoub. I was reared in his palace, and when I grew up, he\nlooked on me, and noting my qualities and the beauty and grace\nthat God had bestowed on me, conceived a great love for me; so he\ntook me and assigned me a separate lodging and gave me ten female\nslaves to wait on me and all this jewellery thou seest on me. One\nday he went on a journey to one of his provinces and the Lady\nZubeideh came to one of my waiting-women and said to her, \"I have\nsomewhat to ask of thee.\" \"What is it, O my lady?\" asked she.\n\"When thy mistress Cout el Culoub is asleep,\" said Zubeideh, \"put\nthis piece of henbane up her nostrils or in her drink, and thou\nshalt have of me as much money as will content thee.\" \"With all\nmy heart,\" replied the woman, and took the henbane, being glad\nbecause of the money and because she had aforetime been in\nZubeideh's service. So she put the henbane in my drink, and when\nit was night, I drank, and the drug had no sooner reached my\nstomach than I fell to the ground, with my head touching my feet,\nand knew not but that I was in another world. When Zubeideh saw\nthat her plot had succeeded, she put me in this chest and\nsummoning the slaves, bribed them and the doorkeepers, and sent\nthe former to do with me as thou sawest. So my delivery was at\nthy hands, and thou broughtest me hither and hast used me with\nthe utmost kindness. This is my story, and I know not what is\ncome of the Khalif in my absence. Know then my condition, and\ndivulge not my affair.' When Ghanim heard her words and knew that\nshe was the favourite of the Commander of the Faithful, he drew\nback, being smitten with fear of the Khalif, and sat apart from\nher in one of the corners of the place, blaming himself and\nbrooding over his case and schooling his heart to patience,\nbewildered for love of one who might not be his. Then he wept,\nfor excess of longing, and bemoaned the injustice and hostility\nof Fortune (Glory be to Him who occupies hearts with love!)\nreciting the following verses:\n\nThe heart of the lover's racked with weariness and care, For his\n     reason ravished is for one who is passing fair.\nIt was asked me, \"What is the taste of love?\" I answer made,\n     \"Love is sweet water, wherein are torment and despair.\"\n\n\nThereupon Cout el Culoub arose and pressed him to her bosom and\nkissed him, for love of him mastered her heart, so that she\ndiscovered to him her secret and the passion that possessed her\nand throwing her arms about his neck, embraced him; but he held\noff from her, for fear of the Khalif. Then they talked awhile\n(and indeed they were both drowned in the sea of mutual love)\ntill day, when Ghanim rose and going to the market as usual, took\nwhat was needful and returned home. He found her in tears; but\nwhen she saw him, she ceased weeping and smiled and said, 'Thou\nhast made me desolate, O beloved of my heart! By Allah, the hour\nthat thou hast been absent from me has been to me as a year! I\nhave let thee see how it is with me for the excess of my passion\nfor thee; so come now, leave what has been and take thy will of\nme.' 'God forbid that this should be!' replied he. 'How shall the\ndog sit in the lion's place? Verily, that which is the master's\nis forbidden to the slave.' And he withdrew from her and sat down\non a corner of the mat. Her passion increased with his refusal;\nso she sat down beside him and caroused and sported with him,\ntill they were both warm with wine, and she was mad for dishonour\nwith him. Then she sang the following verses:\n\nThe heart of the slave of passion is all but broken in twain: How\n     long shall this rigour last and this coldness of disdain?\nO thou that turnest away from me, in default of sin, Rather to\n     turn towards than away should gazelles be fain!\nAversion and distance eternal and rigour and disdain; How can\n     youthful lover these hardships all sustain?\n\nThereupon Ghanim wept and she wept because he did, and they\nceased not to drink till nightfall, when he rose and spread two\nbeds, each in its place. 'For whom is the second bed?' asked she.\n'One is for me and the other for thee,' answered he. 'Henceforth\nwe must lie apart, for that which is the master's is forbidden to\nthe slave.' 'O my lord,' exclaimed she, 'let us leave this, for\nall things happen according to fate and predestination.' But he\nrefused, and the fire was loosed in her heart and she clung to\nhim and said, 'By Allah, we will not sleep but together!' 'God\nforbid!' answered he, and he prevailed against her and lay apart\ntill the morning, whilst love and longing and distraction\nredoubled on her. They abode thus three whole months, and\nwhenever she made advances to him, he held aloof from her,\nsaying, 'Whatever belongs to the master is forbidden to the\nslave.' Then, when this was prolonged upon her and affliction and\nanguish grew on her, for the weariness of her heart she recited\nthe following verses:\n\nO marvel of beauty, how long this disdain? And who hath provoked\n     thee to turn from my pain?\nAll manner of elegance in thee is found And all fashions of\n     fairness thy form doth contain.\nThe hearts of all mortals thou stir'st with desire And on\n     everyone's lids thou mak'st sleeplessness reign.\nI know that the branch has been plucked before thee; So, O\n     capparis-branch, thou dost wrong, it is plain.\nI used erst to capture myself the wild deer. How comes it the\n     chase doth the hunter enchain?\nBut the strangest of all that is told of thee is, I was snared,\n     and thou heard'st not the voice of my pain.\nYet grant not my prayer. If I'm jealous for thee Of thyself how\n     much more of myself? Nor again,\nAs long as life lasteth in me, will I say, \"O marvel of beauty,\n     how long this disdain?\"'\n\nMeanwhile, the Lady Zubeideh, when, in the absence of the Khalif,\nshe had done this thing with Cout el Culoub, abode perplexed and\nsaid to herself, 'What answer shall I make the Khalif, when he\ncomes back and asks for her?' Then she called an old woman, who\nwas with her, and discovered her secret to her, saying, 'What\nshall I do, seeing that Cout el Culoub is no more?' 'O my lady,'\nreplied the old woman, 'the time of the Khalif's return is at\nhand; but do thou send for a carpenter and bid him make a figure\nof wood in the shape of a corpse. We will dig a grave for it and\nbury it in the middle of the palace: then do thou build an\noratory over it and set therein lighted lamps and candles and\ncommand all in the palace to put on mourning. Moreover, do thou\nbid thy slave-girls and eunuchs, as soon as they know of the\nKhalif's approach, spread straw in the vestibules, and when the\nKhalif enters and asks what is the matter, let them say, \"Cout el\nCuloub is dead, may God abundantly replace her to thee! and for\nthe honour in which she was held of our mistress, she hath buried\nher in her own palace.\" When the Khalif hears this, it will be\ngrievous to him and he will weep: then will he cause recitations\nof the Koran to be made over her and will watch by night over her\ntomb. If he should say to himself, \"My cousin Zubeideh has\ncompassed the death of Cout el Culoub out of jealousy,\" or if\nlove-longing should master him and he order to take her forth of\nthe tomb, fear thou not; for when they dig and come to the\nfigure, he will see it as it were a human body, shrouded in\ncostly grave-clothes; and if he desire to take off the swathings,\ndo thou forbid him and say to him, \"It is unlawful to look upon\nher nakedness.\" The fear of the world to come will restrain him\nand he will believe that she is dead and will cause the image to\nbe restored to its place and thank thee for what thou hast done:\nand so, if it please God, thou shalt be delivered from this\nstrait.' Her advice commended itself to Zubeideh, who bestowed on\nher a dress of honour and a sum of money, bidding her do as she\nhad said. So she at once ordered a carpenter to make the\naforesaid figure, and as soon as it was finished, she brought it\nto Zubeideh, who shrouded it and buried it and built a pavilion\nover it, in which she set lighted lamps and candles and spread\ncarpets round the tomb. Moreover, she put on black and ordered\nher household to do the same, and the news was spread abroad in\nthe palace that Cout el Culoub was dead. After awhile, the Khalif\nreturned from his journey and entered the palace, thinking only\nof Cout el Culoub. He saw all the pages and damsels and eunuchs\nin mourning, at which his heart quaked; and when he went in to\nthe Lady Zubeideh, he found her also clad in black. So he asked\nthe cause of this and was told that Cout el Culoub was dead,\nwhereupon he fell down in a swoon. As soon as he came to himself,\nhe enquired of her tomb, and Zubeideh said to him, 'Know, O\nCommander of the Faithful, that for the honour in which I held\nher, I have buried her in my own palace.' Then he repaired to her\ntomb, in his travelling dress, and found the place spread with\ncarpets and lit with lamps. When he saw this, he thanked Zubeldeh\nfor what she had done and abode perplexed, halting between belief\nand distrust, till at last suspicion got the better of him and he\nordered the grave to be opened and the body exhumed. When he saw\nthe figure and would have taken off the swathings to look upon\nthe body, the fear of God the Most High restrained him, and the\nold woman (taking advantage of his hesitation) said, 'Restore her\nto her place.' Then he sent at once for readers and doctors of\nthe Law and caused recitations of the Koran to be made over her\ngrave and sat by it, weeping, till he lost his senses. He\ncontinued to frequent the tomb for a whole month, at the end of\nwhich time, he chanced one day, after the Divan had broken up and\nhis Amirs and Viziers had gone away to their houses, to enter the\nharem, where he laid down and slept awhile, whilst one damsel sat\nat his head, fanning him, and another at his feet, rubbing them.\nPresently he awoke and opening his eyes, shut them again and\nheard the damsel at his head say to her at his feet, 'Hist,\nKheizuran!' 'Well, Kezib el Ban?' answered the other. 'Verily,'\nsaid the first, 'our lord knows not what has passed and watches\nover a tomb in which there is only a carved wooden figure, of the\ncarpenter's handiwork.' 'Then what is become of Cout el Culoub?'\nenquired the other. 'Know,' replied Kezib el Ban. 'that the Lady\nZubeideh bribed one of her waiting-women to drug her with henbane\nand laying her in a chest, commanded Sewab and Kafour to take it\nand bury it among the tombs.' Quoth Kheizuran, 'And is not the\nlady Cout el Culoub dead?' 'No,' replied the other; 'God preserve\nher youth from death! but I have heard the Lady Zubeideh say that\nshe is with a young merchant of Damascus, by name Ghanim ben\nEyoub, and has been with him these four months, whilst this our\nlord is weeping and watching anights over an empty tomb.' When\nthe Khalif heard the girls' talk and knew that the tomb was a\ntrick and a fraud and that Cout el Culoub had been with Ghanim\nben Eyoub for four months, he was sore enraged and rising up,\nsummoned his officers of state, whereupon the Vizier Jaafer the\nBarmecide came up and kissed the earth before him, and the Khalif\nsaid to him, 'O Jaafer, take a company of men with thee and fall\nupon the house of Ghanim ben Eyoub and bring him to me, with my\nslave-girl Cout el Culoub, for I will assuredly punish him!' 'I\nhear and obey,' answered Jaafer, and setting out with his guards\nand the chief of the police, repaired to Ghanim's house. Now the\nlatter had brought home a pot of meat and was about to put forth\nhis hand to eat of it, he and Cout d Culoub, when the damsel,\nhappening to look out, found the house beset on all sides by the\nVizier and the chief of the police and their officers and\nattendants, with drawn swords in their hands, encompassing the\nplace, as the white of the eye encompasses the black. At this\nsight, she knew that news of her had reached the Khalif, her\nmaster, and made sure of ruin, and her colour paled and her\nbeauty changed. Then she turned to Ghanim and said to him, 'O my\nlove, fly for thy life!' 'What shall I do?' said he; 'and whither\nshall I go, seeing that my substance and fortune are in this\nhouse?' 'Delay not,' answered she, 'lest thou lose both life and\ngoods.' 'O my beloved and light of my eyes,' rejoined he, 'how\nshall I do to get away, when they have surrounded the house?'\n'Fear not,' said she: and taking off his clothes, made him put on\nold and ragged ones, after which she took the empty pot and put\nin it a piece of bread and a saucer of meat, and placing the\nwhole in a basket, set it on his head and said, 'Go out in this\nguise and fear not for me, for I know how to deal with the\nKhalif.' So he went out amongst them, carrying the basket and its\ncontents, and God covered him with His protection and he escaped\nthe snares and perils that beset him, thanks to the purity of his\nintent. Meanwhile, Jaafer alighted and entering the house, saw\nCout el Culoub, who had dressed and decked herself after the\nrichest fashion and filled a chest with gold and jewellery and\nprecious stones and rarities and what else was light of carriage\nand great of value. When she saw Jaafer, she rose and kissing the\nearth before him, said, 'O my lord, the pen[FN#118] hath written\nfrom of old that which God hath decreed.' 'By Allah, O my lady,'\nrejoined Jaafer, 'I am commanded to seize Ghanim ben Eyoub.' 'O\nmy lord,' replied she, 'he made ready merchandise and set out\ntherewith for Damascus and I know nothing more of him; but I\ndesire thee to take charge of this chest and deliver it to me in\nthe palace of the Commander of the Faithful.' 'I hear and obey,'\nsaid Jaafer, and bade his men carry the chest to the palace,\ntogether with Cout el Culoub, commanding them to use her with\nhonour and consideration. And they did his bidding, after they\nhad plundered Ghanim's house. Then Jaafer went in to the Khalif\nand told him what had happened, and he bade lodge Cout el Culoub\nin a dark chamber and appointed an old woman to serve her,\nthinking no otherwise than that Ghanim had certainly debauched\nher and lain with her. Then he wrote a letter to the Amir\nMohammed ben Suleiman ez Zeini, the viceroy of Damascus, to the\nfollowing purport, 'As soon as this letter reaches thee, lay\nhands on Ghanim ben Eyoub and send him to me.' When the letter\ncame to the viceroy, he kissed it and laid it on his head, then\ncaused proclamation to be made in the streets of Damascus, 'Whoso\nis minded to plunder, let him betake himself to the house of\nGhanim ben Eyoub!' So they repaired to the house, where they\nfound that Ghanim's mother and sister had made him a tomb midmost\nthe house and sat by it, weeping for him, whereupon they seized\nthem, without telling them the cause, and carried them before the\nSultan, after having plundered the house. The viceroy questioned\nthem of Ghanim, and they replied, 'This year or more we have had\nno news of him.' So they restored them to their place.\n\nMeanwhile Ghanim, finding himself despoiled of his wealth and\nconsidering his case, wept till his heart was well-nigh broken.\nThen he fared on at random, till the end of the day, and hunger\nwas sore on him and he was worn out with fatigue. Coming to a\nvillage, he entered a mosque, where he sat down on a mat, leaning\nhis back against the wall, and presently sank to the ground, in\nextremity for hunger and weariness, and lay there till morning,\nhis heart fluttering for want of food. By reason of his sweating,\nvermin coursed over his skin, his breath grew fetid and he became\nin sorry case. When the people of the town came to pray the\nmorning-prayer, they found him lying there, sick and weak with\nhunger, yet showing signs of gentle breeding. As soon as they had\ndone their devotions, they came up to him and finding him cold\nand starving, threw over him an old mantle with ragged sleeves\nand said to him, 'O stranger, whence art thou and what ails\nthee?' He opened his eyes and wept, but made them no answer;\nwhereupon, one of them, seeing that he was starving, brought him\na saucerful of honey and two cakes of bread. So he ate a little\nand they sat with him till sunrise, when they went about their\noccupations. He abode with them in this state for a month, whilst\nsickness and infirmity increased upon him, and they wept for him\nand pitying his condition, took counsel together of his case and\nagreed to send him to the hospital at Baghdad. Meanwhile, there\ncame into the mosque two beggar women, who were none other than\nGhanim's mother and sister; and when he saw them, he gave them\nthe bread that was at his head and they slept by his side that\nnight, but he knew them not. Next day the villagers fetched a\ncamel and said to the driver, 'Put this sick man on thy camel\nand carry him to Baghdad and set him down at the door of the\nhospital, so haply he may be medicined and recover his health,\nand God will reward thee.' 'I hear and obey,' said the\ncamel-driver. So they brought Ghanim, who was asleep, out of the\nmosque and laid him, mat and all, on the back of the camel; and\nhis mother and sister came out with the rest of the people to\nlook on him, but knew him not. However, after considering him,\nthey said, 'Verily, he favours our Ghanim! Can this sick man be\nhe?' Presently, he awoke and finding himself bound with ropes on\nthe back of a camel, began to weep and complain, and the people\nof the village saw his mother and sister weeping over him, though\nthey knew him not. Then they set out for Baghdad, whither the\ncamel-driver forewent them and setting Ghanim down at the door of\nthe hospital, went away. He lay there till morning, and when the\npeople began to go about the ways, they saw him and stood gazing\non him, for indeed he was become as thin as a skewer, till the\nsyndic of the market came up and drove them away, saying, 'I will\ngain Paradise through this poor fellow; for if they take him into\nthe hospital, they will kill him in one day.' Then he made his\nservants carry him to his own house, where he spread him a\nnew bed, with a new pillow, and said to his wife, 'Tend him\nfaithfully.' 'Good,' answered she; 'on my head be it!' Then she\ntucked up her sleeves and heating some water, washed his hands\nand feet and body, after which she clothed him in a gown\nbelonging to one of her slave-girls and gave him a cup of wine to\ndrink and sprinkled rose-water over him. So he revived and\nmoaned, as he thought of his beloved Cout el Culoub! and sorrows\nwere sore upon him.\n\nMeanwhile, Cout el Culoub abode in duresse fourscore days, at the\nend of which time, the Khalif chancing one day to pass the place\nin which she was, heard her repeating verses and saying, 'O my\nbeloved, O Ghanim, how great is thy goodness and how chaste is\nthy nature! Thou didst good to him who hath injured thee, thou\nguardedst his honour who hath violated thine, and didst protect\nthe harem of him who hath despoiled thee and thine! But thou wilt\nsurely stand, with the Commander of the Faithful, before the Just\nJudge and be justified of him on the day when the judge shall be\nthe Lord of all (to whom belong might and majesty) and the\nwitnesses the angels!' When the Khalif heard her complaint, he\nknew that she had been wrongfully entreated and returning to his\npalace sent Mesrour the eunuch for her. She came before him, with\nbowed head, tearful-eyed and mournful-hearted, and he said to\nher, 'O Cout el Culoub, I find thou taxest me with injustice and\ntyranny and avouchest that I have wronged him who did me good.\nWho is this that hath guarded my honour and whose honour I have\nviolated, and who hath protected my harem, whilst I have enslaved\nhis?' 'Ghanim ben Eyoub,' replied she; 'for by thy munificence, O\nCommander of the Faithful, he never approached me by way of\nlewdness nor with evil intent!' Then said the Khalif, 'There is\nno power and no virtue but in God! Ask what thou wilt of me, O\nCout el Culoub, and it shall be granted to thee.' 'O Commander of\nthe Faithful,' said she, 'I ask of thee my beloved Ghanim ben\nEyoub.' The Khalif granted her prayer, and she said, 'O Commander\nof the Faithful, if I bring him to thee, wilt thou bestow me on\nhim?' 'If he come,' replied the Khalif, 'I will bestow thee on\nhim, the gift of a generous man who does not go back on his\ngiving.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' said she, 'suffer me to\ngo in quest of him: it may be God will unite me with him.' 'Do\nwhat seemeth good to thee,' answered he. So she rejoiced and\ntaking with her a thousand dinars, went out and visited the\nelders of the various religious orders and gave alms for Ghanim's\nsake. Next day she went to the merchants' bazaar and told the\nchief of the market what she sought and gave him money, saying,\n'Bestow this in alms on strangers.' The following week she took\nother thousand dinars and going to the market of the goldsmiths\nand jewellers, called the syndic and gave him the money, saying,\n'Bestow this in alms on strangers.' The syndic, who was none\nother than Ghanim's benefactor, looked at her and said, 'O my\nlady, wilt thou go to my house and look upon a strange youth I\nhave there and see how goodly and elegant he is?' (Now this\nstranger was Ghanim, but the syndic had no knowledge of him and\nthought him to be some unfortunate debtor, who had been despoiled\nof his property, or a lover parted from his beloved.) When she\nheard his words, her heart fluttered and her bowels yearned, and\nshe said to him, 'Send with me some one who shall bring me to thy\nhouse.' So he sent a little boy, who led her thither and she\nthanked him for this. When she reached the house, she went in and\nsaluted the syndic's wife, who rose and kissed the ground before\nher, knowing her. Then said Cout el Culoub, 'Where is the sick\nman who is with thee?' 'O my lady,' replied she, weeping, 'here\nhe is, lying on this bed. By Allah, he is a man of condition and\nbears traces of gentle breeding!' So Cout el Culoub turned and\nlooked at him, but he was as if disguised in her eyes, being worn\nand wasted till he was become as thin as a skewer, so that his\ncase was doubtful to her and she was not certain that it was he.\nNevertheless, she was moved to compassion for him and wept,\nsaying, 'Verily, strangers are unhappy, though they be princes in\ntheir own land!' And his case was grievous to her and her heart\nached for him, though she knew him not to be Ghanim. Then she\nappointed him wine and medicines and sat by his head awhile,\nafter which she mounted and returned to her palace and continued\nto make the round of the bazaars in search of Ghanim.\n\nMeanwhile Ghanim's mother and sister arrived at Baghdad and fell\nin with the charitable syndic, who carried them to Cout el Culoub\nand said to her, 'O princess of benevolent ladies, there be come\nto our city this day a woman and her daughter, who are fair of\nface and the marks of gentle breeding and fortune are manifest\nupon them, though they are clad in hair garments and have each\na wallet hanging to her neck; and they are tearful-eyed and\nsorrowful-hearted. So I have brought them to thee, that thou\nmayest shelter them and rescue them from beggary, for they are\nnot fit to ask alms, and if God will, we shall enter Paradise\nthrough them.' 'O my lord,' exclaimed she, 'thou makest me long\nto see them! Where are they? Bring them to me.' So he bade the\neunuch bring them in; and when she looked on them and saw that\nthey were both possessed of beauty, she wept for them and said,\n'By Allah, they are people of condition and show signs of former\nfortune.' 'O my lady,' said the syndic's wife, 'we love the poor\nand destitute, because of the recompense that God hath promised\nto such as succour them: as for these, belike the oppressors have\ndone them violence and robbed them of their fortune and laid\nwaste their dwelling-place.' Then Ghanim's mother and sister wept\nsore, recalling their former prosperity and contrasting it with\ntheir present destitute and miserable condition and thinking of\nGhanim, whilst Cout el Culoub wept because they did. And they\nexclaimed, 'We beseech God to reunite us with him whom we desire,\nand he is none other than our son Ghanim ben Eyoub!' When Cout el\nCuloub heard this, she knew them to be the mother and sister of\nher beloved and wept till she lost her senses. When she revived,\nshe turned to them and said, 'Have no care and grieve not, for\nthis day is the first of your prosperity and the last of your\nadversity.' Then she bade the syndic take them to his own house\nand let his wife carry them to the bath and clothe them\nhandsomely. And she charged him to take care of them and treat\nthem with all honour, and gave him a sum of money. Next day, she\nmounted and riding to his house, went in to his wife, who rose\nand kissed her hands and thanked her for her goodness. There she\nsaw Ghanim's mother and sister, whom the syndic's wife had taken\nto the bath and clothed afresh, so that the traces of their\nformer condition were now plainly apparent. She sat awhile,\nconversing with them, after which she enquired for the sick\nyouth, and the syndic's wife replied, 'He is in the same state.'\nThen said Cout el Culoub, 'Come, let us go and visit him.' So\nthey all went into the room where he lay and sat down by him.\nPresently, Ghanim heard them mention the name of Cout el Culoub,\nwhereupon his life came back to him, wasted and shrunken as he\nwas, and he raised his head from the pillow and cried out, 'O\nCout el Culoub!' 'Yes, O friend!' answered she. 'Draw near to\nme,' said he. So she looked at him earnestly and knew him and\nsaid to him, 'Surely thou art Ghanim ben Eyoub?' 'I am indeed\nhe,' replied he. At this, she fell down in a swoon, and when\nGhanim's mother and sister heard their words, they both cried\nout, 'O joy!' and swooned away. When they recovered, Cout el\nCuloub exclaimed, 'Praised be God who hath brought us together\nagain and hath reunited thee with thy mother and sister!' Then\nshe told him all that had befallen her with the Khalif and said,\n'I have made known the truth to the Commander of the Faithful,\nwho believed me and approved of thee; and now he wishes to see\nthee.' Then she told him how the Khalif had bestowed her on him,\nat which he was beyond measure rejoiced, and she returned to the\npalace at once, charging them not to stir till she came back.\nThere she opened the chest that she had brought from Ghanim's\nhouse, and taking out some of the money, carried it to the syndic\nand bade him buy them each four suits of the best stuffs and\ntwenty handkerchiefs and what else they needed; after which she\ncarried them all three to the bath and commanded to wash them and\nmade ready for them broths and galingale and apple-water against\ntheir coming out. When they left the bath, they put on new\nclothes, and she abode with them three days, feeding them with\nfowls and broths and sherbet of sugar-candy, till their strength\nreturned to them. After this, she carried them to the bath a\nsecond time, and when they came out and had changed their\nclothes, she took them back to the syndic's house and left them\nthere, whilst she returned to the palace and craving an audience\nof the Khalif, told him the whole story and how her lord Ghanim\nand his mother and sister were now in Baghdad. When the Khalif\nheard this, he turned to his attendants and said, 'Bring hither\nto me Ghanim.' So Jaafer went to fetch him: but Cout el Culoub\nforewent him to the syndic's house and told Ghanim that the\nKhalif had sent for him and enjoined him to eloquence and\nself-possession and pleasant speech. Then she clad him in a\nrich habit and gave him much money, bidding him be lavish of\nlargesse to the household of the Khalif, when he went in to him.\nPresently, Jaafer arrived, riding on his Nubian mule, and Ghanim\nmet him and kissed the ground before him, wishing him long life.\nNow was the star of his good fortune risen and shone, and Jaafer\ntook him and brought him to the Khalif. When he entered, he\nlooked at the viziers and amirs and chamberlains and deputies and\ngrandees and captains, Turks and Medes and Arabs and Persians,\nand then at the Khalif. Then he made sweet his speech and his\neloquence and bowing his head, spoke the following verses:\n\nLong life unto a King, the greatest of the great, Still following\n     on good works and bounties without date!\nGlowering with high resolves, a fountain of largesse, For ever\n     full; 'tis said, of fire and flood and fate,\nThat they none else would have for monarch of the world, For\n     sovran of the time and King in Kisra's gate.[FN#119]\nKings, salutation-wise, upon his threshold's earth, For his\n     acceptance lay the jewels of their state;\nAnd when their eyes behold the glory of his might, Upon the\n     earth, in awe, themselves they do prostrate.\nThis humbleness it is that profits them with thee And wins them\n     wealth and power and rank and high estate.\nUpon old Saturn's heights pitch thy pavilion, Since for thy\n     countless hosts the world is grown too strait,\nAnd teach the stars to know thine own magnificence, In kindness\n     to the prince who rules the starry state.\nMay God with His consent for ever favour thee! For steadfastness\n     of soul and sense upon thee wait:\nThy justice overspreads the surface of the earth, Till far and\n     near for it their difference abate.\n\nThe Khalif was charmed with his eloquence and the sweetness of\nhis speech and said to him, 'Draw near to me.' So he drew near\nand the Khalif said, 'Tell me thy story and expound to me thy\ncase.' So Ghanim sat down and related to him all that had\nbefallen him, from beginning to end. The Khalif was assured that\nhe spoke the truth; so he invested him with a dress of honour and\ntook him into favour. Then he said to him, 'Acquit me of the\nwrong I have done thee.' And Ghanim did so, saying, 'O Commander\nof the Faithful, the slave and all that is his belong to his\nlord.' The Khalif was pleased with this and bade set apart a\npalace for Ghanim, on whom he bestowed great store of gifts and\nassigned him bountiful stipends and allowances, sending his\nmother and sister to live with him; after which, hearing that his\nsister Fitneh was indeed a seduction[FN#120] for beauty, he\ndemanded her in marriage of Ghanim, who replied, 'She is thy\nhandmaid and I am thy servant.' The Khalif thanked him and gave\nhim a hundred thousand dinars; then summoned the Cadi and the\nwitnesses, who drew up the contracts of marriage between the\nKhalif and Fitneh on the one hand and Ghanim and Cout el Culoub\non the other; and the two marriages were consummated in one and\nthe same night. On the morrow, the Khalif ordered the history of\nGhanim to be recorded and laid up in the royal treasury, that\nthose who came after him might read it and wonder at the dealings\nof destiny and put their trust in Him who created the night and\nthe day.\n\n\n\nEnd Of Vol. 1\n\n\n\n\n\n                     Footnotes to Volume 1.\n\n\n\n[FN#1] The visible and the invisible. Some authorities make it\nthree worlds (those of men, of the angels and of the Jinn or\ngenii), and ethers more.\n\n[FN#2] The Arabic word for island (jezireh) signifies also\n\"peninsula,\" and doubtless here used in the latter sense. The\ndouble meaning of the word should be borne in mind, as it\nexplains many apparent discrepancies in Oriental tales.\n\n[FN#3] A powerful species of genie. The name is generally (but\nnot invariably) applied to an evil spirit.\n\n[FN#4] God on thee! abbreviated form of \"I conjure thee (or call\non thee) by God!\"\n\n[FN#5] lit. bull\n\n[FN#6] Epithet of the ass and the cock. The best equivalent would\nbe the French \"P\u00e8re L'Eveill\u00e9.\"\n\n[FN#7] i.e. stupid.\n\n[FN#8] The Arabic word for garden (bustan) applies to any\ncultivated or fertile spot, abounding in trees. An European would\ncall such a place as that mentioned in the tale an oasis.\n\n[FN#9] in preparation for death.\n\n[FN#10] Jinn, plural of genie.\n\n[FN#11] A dinar (Lat. denarius) is a gold coin worth about 10s.\n\n[FN#12] i.e. I have nothing to give thee.\n\n[FN#13] A dirhem (Gr. drachma) is a silver coin worth about 6d.\n\n[FN#14] Afriteh, a female Afrit. Afrit means strictly an evil\nspirit; but the term is not unfrequently applied to benevolent\nJinn, as will appear in the course of these stories.\n\n[FN#15] for his impatience.\n\n[FN#16] A Marid is a genie of the most powerful class. The name\ngenerally, though not invariably, denotes an evil spirit.\n\n[FN#17] Of Islam, which is fabled by the Muslims to have existed\nbefore Mohammed, under the headship, first of Abraham and\nafterwards of Solomon.\n\n[FN#18] From this point I omit the invariable formula which\nintroduces each night, as its constant repetition is only\ncalculated to annoy the reader and content myself with noting the\nvarious nights in the margin. {which will not be included in this\nelectronic version}\n\n[FN#19] Probably the skin of some animal supposed to be a defence\nagainst poison.\n\n[FN#20] Literally, \"eyes adorned with kohl:\" but this expression\nis evidently used tropically to denote a natural beauty of the\neye, giving it that liquid appearance which it is the object of\nthe use of the cosmetic in question to produce.\n\n[FN#21] A fabulous tribe of giants mentioned in the Koran.\n\n[FN#22] The word here translated \"eye\" may also be rendered\n\"understanding.\"  The exact meaning of the phrase (one of\nfrequent recurrence in these stories) is doubtful.\n\n[FN#23] A fabulous range of mountains which, according to Muslim\ncosmography, encompasses the world.\n\n[FN#24] The prophet Mohammed.\n\n[FN#25] Various kinds of cakes and sweetmeats.\n\n[FN#26] The appearance of which is the signal for the\ncommencement of the fast. All eyes being on the watch, it\nnaturally follows that the new moon of this month is generally\nseen at an earlier stage than are those of the other months of\nthe year, and its crescent is therefore apparently more slender.\nHence the comparison.\n\n[FN#27] Caravanserai or public lodging-place.\n\n[FN#28] A kind of religious mendicant.\n\n[FN#29] One condition of which is that no violation of the\nceremonial law (which prohibits the use of intoxicating liquors)\nbe committed by the pilgrim, from the time of his assuming the\npilgrim's habit to that of his putting it off; and this is\nconstrued by the stricter professors to take effect from the\nactual formation of the intent to make the pilgrimage. Haroun er\nReshid, though a voluptuary, was (at all events, from time to\ntime) a rigid observer of Muslim ritual.\n\n[FN#30] It is a frequent practice, in the East, gently to rub and\nknead the feet, for the purpose of inducing sleep or gradually\narousing a sleeper.\n\n[FN#31] An expression frequent in Oriental works, meaning \"The\nsituations suggested such and such words or thoughts.\"\n\n[FN#32] Religious mendicants.\n\n[FN#33] Referring, of course, to the wine, which it appears to\nhave been customary to drink warm or boiled (vinum coctum) as\namong several ancient nations and in Japan and China at the\npresent day.\n\n[FN#34] Or chapter or formula.\n\n[FN#35] A play upon words is here intended turning upon the\ndouble meaning (\"aloes\" and \"patience\") of the Arabic word sebr.\n\n[FN#36] See note on p. 120. {Vol. 1, FN#35}\n\n[FN#37] Dar es Selam.\n\n[FN#38] A certain fixed succession of prayers and acts of\nadoration is called a rekah (or bow) from the inclination of the\nbody that occurs in it. The ordained prayers, occurring five\ntimes a day, consist of a certain number of rekahs.\n\n[FN#39] i.e. \"There is no god but God\", etc.\n\n[FN#40] or sinister conjunction of the planets.\n\n[FN#41] Menkeleh, a game played with a board and draughtmen,\npartaking of the character of backgammon, draughts and\nfox-and-geese.\n\n[FN#42] A common Oriental substitute for soap.\n\n[FN#43] i.e. newly dug over.\n\n[FN#44] lit. rukh.\n\n[FN#45] A sweet-scented, variegated wood.\n\n[FN#46] The Arabs consider a slight division of the two middle\nteeth a beauty.\n\n[FN#47] The Egyptian privet; a plant whose flowers have a very\ndelicious fragrance.\n\n[FN#48] A kind of mocking-bird.\n\n[FN#49] Of providence.\n\n[FN#50] Literally, \"O my eyes!\"\n\n[FN#51] A niche in the wall, which indicates the position the\nworshipper must assume, in order to face Mecca, in accordance\nwith the ritual of prayer.\n\n[FN#52] cf. Germ. Zuckerpuppchen.\n\n[FN#53] i.e., moles, which are considered a great beauty in the\nEast.\n\n[FN#54] A female genie.\n\n[FN#55] The unveiling or displaying of the bride before her\nhusband is the culminating ceremony of a Muslim wedding of the\nbetter class. The bride is always displayed in the richest\nclothes and ornament that can be mustered or borrowed for the\noccasion.\n\n[FN#56] Moles?\n\n[FN#57] There is a play upon words in this line, founded upon the\ndouble meaning of the word shirk, sharing (or partnership) and\npolytheism or the attributing partners or equals to God (as in\nthe Trinity), the one unpardonable sin of the Muslim religious\ncode.\n\n[FN#58] Both afterwards Khalifs.\n\n[FN#59] i.e. God.\n\n[FN#60] lit \"though lying save, yet truth saves and saves.\"\n\n[FN#61] On which she sits to be displayed.\n\n[FN#62] Placed there for the purpose of the ablution prescribed\nby the ceremonial law.\n\n[FN#63] Speaking, of course, ironically and supposing Bedreddin\nto be the hunchback.\n\n[FN#64] Bedreddin.\n\n[FN#65] Mosul is a town of Mesopotamia, some two hundred miles\nN.E. of Baghdad.  It is celebrated for its silk and muslin\nmanufactories.  The Mosulis doubtless set the fashion in turbans\nto the inhabitants of Baghdad and Bassora, and it would appear\nfrom the Vizier's remark that this fashion was notably different\nfrom that followed at Cairo.\n\n[FN#66] Eye-powder.  The application of kohl to an infant's eyes\nis supposed to be beneficial.\n\n[FN#67] The North wind holds the same place in Oriental metaphor\nand poetry as does the West wind in those of Europe.\n\n[FN#68] Or kernel.\n\n[FN#69] lit. puppet or lay figure.\n\n[FN#70] Mole.\n\n[FN#71] A well-known legist and Cadi of Cufa in the seventh\ncentury.\n\n[FN#72] The Sun.\n\n[FN#73] The word melik 'king,' by changing the second (unwritten)\nvowel to e becomes melek 'angel'.\n\n[FN#74] A measure of about five bushels.\n\n[FN#75] The left hand is considered unclean, being used for\ncertain ablutions, and it is therefore a breach of good manners\nto use it in eating.\n\n[FN#76] Between the two palaces.\n\n[FN#77] Apparently said in jest.\n\n[FN#78] i.e. do not forget me.\n\n[FN#79] A kind of edible arum.\n\n[FN#80] This is apparently some proverbial saying. The meaning\nappears to be, \"Let every man be judge of his own case.\"\n\n[FN#81] That none might stare at or jostle her.\n\n[FN#82] About a hundred and twenty-five pounds.\n\n[FN#83] About five hundred pounds.\n\n[FN#84] i.e. of prime cost.\n\n[FN#85] The face of a mistress.\n\n[FN#86] It is a common Oriental figure to liken a languishing eye\nto a dying narcissus.\n\n[FN#87] One of the companions of Mohammed.\n\n[FN#88] Prater.\n\n[FN#89] Babbler.\n\n[FN#90] Gabbler.\n\n[FN#91] The Stone Mug.\n\n[FN#92] The Braggart.\n\n[FN#93] Noisy.\n\n[FN#94] Silent.\n\n[FN#95] Mohammed.\n\n[FN#96] Or attendant on the people in the bath.\n\n[FN#97] i.e. a stoker or man who keeps up the fire in the baths.\n\n[FN#98] A sort of sermon, which immediately follows, the noontide\ncall to prayer on Fridays.\n\n[FN#99] Preliminary to the call to prayer.\n\n[FN#100] A.H. 623-640.\n\n[FN#101] A leather rug on which they make criminals kneel to be\nbeheaded.\n\n[FN#102] It will be seen that the stories told by the barber do\nnot account for the infirmities of all his brothers, as this\nwould imply.\n\n[FN#103] A formula of refusal.\n\n[FN#104] lit. ladder; a sort of frame, like the triangles to\nwhich they bound criminals sentenced to be flogged.\n\n[FN#105] Dinars; 100,000 dirhems would be only five thousand\ndinars and it will be seen from the sequel that El Feshar\nproposed to spend half that amount upon the dowry and presents to\nthe tire-women alone.\n\n[FN#106] i.e. try this.\n\n[FN#107] The moon is masculine in Arabic.\n\n[FN#108] Mohammed.\n\n[FN#109] Or Hajji, pilgrim; title given to those who have made\nthe pilgrimage to Mecca.\n\n[FN#110] lit. the fundamentals are remembered.\n\n[FN#111] i.e. chanting the ninety-nine names of God or repeating\nthe words \"There is no god but God.\"\n\n[FN#112] i.e. a fair faced cup bearer.\n\n[FN#113] Generally, the floating ends of the turban. This was for\nthe purpose of concealment and is a common practice with the\nBedouins.\n\n[FN#114] The name Kerim means \"generous.\"\n\n[FN#115] Or perhaps \"cancelled.\"\n\n[FN#116] To simulate the customary evidence of virginity.\n\n[FN#117] Names of her waiting women.\n\n[FN#118] Of providence.\n\n[FN#119] i.e. monarch of Persia, the realm of the ancient Kisras\nor Chosroes.\n\n[FN#120] Fitneh.","title":"The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night, Volume I","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":147950}