{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_8658/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_8658","id":"gutenberg_8658","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/8658","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Fairy tales","Tales -- Arab countries"],"text":"Produced by JC Byers, Graeme Houston, Renate Preuss, Coralee\nSheehan, Marryann Short, and Anne Soulard\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nEditorial Note: Project Gutenberg also has the translation of this work by\n                Richard F. Burton in 16 volumes.\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 FOURTH.\n\n\n\n                              1901\n\n                         Delhi Edition\n\n\n                 Contents of The Fourth Volume.\n\n\n\n1.   The Imam Abou Yousuf With Haroun er Reshid and his Vizier\n     Jaafer\n2.   The Lover Who Feigned Himself a Thief to save His Mistress's\n     Honour\n3.   Jaafer the Barmecide and the Bean-seller\n4.   Abou Mohammed the Lazy\n5.   Yehya Ben Khalid and Mensour\n6.   Yehya Ben Khalid and the Man Who Forged a Letter in His Name\n7.   The Khalif el Mamoun and the Strange Doctor\n8.   Ali Shar and Zumurrud\n9.   The Loves of Jubeir Ben Umeir and the Lady Budour\n10.  The Man of Yemen and His Six Slave Girls\n11.  Haroun er Reshid with the Damsel and Abou Nuwas\n12.  The Man Who Stole The Dog's Dish of Gold\n13.  The Sharper of Alexandria and the Master of Police\n14.  El Melik en Nasir and the Three Masters of Police\n     a.   Story of the Chief of the New Cairo Police\n     b.   Story of the Chief of the Boulac Police\n     c.   Story of the chief of the Old Cairo Police\n15.  The Thief and the Money-Changer\n16.  The Chief of the Cous Police and the Sharper\n17.  Ibrahim Ben el Mehdi and the Merchant's Sister\n18.  The Woman Whose Hands Were Cut Off For Almsgiving\n19.  The Devout Israelite\n20.  Abou Hassan ez Ziyadi and the Man From Khorassan\n21.  The Poor Man and his Generous Friend\n22.  The Ruined Man Who Became Rich Again Through a Dream\n23.  El Mutawekkil and his Favourite Mehboubeh\n24.  Werdan the Butcher's Adventure with the Lady and the Bear\n25.  The King's Daughter and the Ape\n26.  The Enchanted Horse\n27.  Uns El Eoujoud and the Vizier's Daughter Rose-in-Bud\n28.  Abou Nuwas with the Three Boys and the Khalif Haroun er\n     Reshid\n29.  Abdallah Ben Maamer with the Man of Bassora and His Slave\n     Girl\n30.  The Lovers of the Benou Udhreh\n31.  The Vizier of Yemen and His Young Brother\n32.  Loves of the Boy and Girl at School\n33.  El Mutelemmis and His Wife Umeimeh\n34.  Haroun er Reshid and Zubeideh in the Bath\n35.  Haroun er Reshid and the Three Poets\n36.  Musab Ben ez Zubeir and Aaisheh His Wife\n37.  Aboulasweh and His Squinting Slave Girl\n38.  Haroun er Reshid ad the Two Girls\n39.  Hroun er Reshid and the Three Girls\n40.  The Miller and his Wife\n41.  The Simpleton and the Sharper\n42.  The Imam Abou Yousuf with Haroun er Reshid and Zubeideh\n43.  The Khalif el Hakim and the Merchant\n44.  King Kisra Anoushirwan and the Village Damsel\n45.  The Water-Carrier and the Goldsmith's Wife\n46.  Khusrau and Shirin and the Fisherman\n47.  Yehya Ben Khalid and the Poor Man\n48.  Mohammed El Amin and Jaafer Ben el Hadi\n49.  Said Ben Salim and the Barmecides\n50.  The Woman's Trick Against Her Husband\n51.  The Devout Woman and the Two Wicked Elders\n52.  Jaafer the Barmecide and the Old Bedouin\n53.  Omar Ben Khettab and the Young Bedouin\n54.  El Mamoun and the Pyramids of Egypt\n55.  The Thief Turned Merchant and the Other Thief\n56.  Mesrour and Ibn El Caribi\n57.  The Devout Prince\n58.  The Schoolmaster Who Fell in Love by Report\n59.  The Foolish Schoolmaster\n60.  The Ignorant Man Who Set up For a Schoolmaster\n61.  The King and the Virtuous Wife\n62.  Abdurrehman the Moor's Story of the Roc\n63.  Adi Ben Zeid and the Princess Hind\n64.  Dibil el Khuzai With the Lady and Muslim Ben el Welid\n65.  Isaac of Mosul and the Merchant\n66.  The Three Unfortunate Lovers\n67.  The Lovers of the Benou Tai\n68.  The Mad Lover\n69.  The Apples of Paradise\n70.  The Loves of Abou Isa and Current El Ain\n71.  El Amin and His Uncle Ibrahim Ben el Mehdi\n72.  El Feth Ben Khacan and El Mutawekkil\n73.  The Man's Dispute with the Learned Woman of the Relative\n     Excellence of the Male and the Female\n74.  Abou Suweid and the Handsome Old Woman\n75.  Ali Ben Tahir and the Birl Mounis\n76.  The Woman Who Has a Boy and the Other Who Had a Man to Lover\n77.  The Haunted House in Baghdad\n78.  The Pilgrim and the Old Woman Who Dwelt in the Desert\n79.  Aboulhusn and His Slave Girl Taweddud\n\n\n\n\n                THE BOOK OF THE THOUSAND NIGHTS\n                         AND ONE NIGHT\n\n\n\n\n            HOW THE IMAM ABOU YOUSUF EXTRICATED THE\n             KHALIF HAROUN ER RESHID AND HIS VIZIER\n                     JAAFER FROM A DILEMMA.\n\n\n\nIt is said that Jaafer the Barmecide was one night carousing with\nEr Reshid, when the latter said to him, 'O Jaafer, I hear that\nthou hast bought such and such a slave-girl. Now I have long\nsought her and my heart is taken up with love of her, for she is\npassing fair; so do thou sell her to me.' 'O Commander of the\nFaithful,' replied Jaafer, 'I will not sell her.' 'Then give her\nto me,' rejoined the Khalif. 'Nor will I give her,' answered\nJaafer. 'Be Zubeideh triply divorced,' exclaimed Haroun, 'if\nthou shalt not either sell or give her to me!' Quoth Jaafer, 'Be\nmy wife triply divorced, if I either sell or give her to thee!'\nAfter awhile they recovered from their intoxication and were ware\nthat they had fallen into a grave dilemma, but knew not how to\nextricate themselves. Then said Er Reshid, 'None can help us in\nthis strait but Abou Yousuf.'[FN#1] So they sent for him, and\nthis was in the middle of the night. When the messenger reached\nthe Imam, he arose in alarm, saying in himself, 'I should not be\nsent for at this hour, save by reason of some crisis in Islam.'\nSo he went out in haste and mounted his mule, saying to his\nservant, 'Take the mule's nose-bag with thee; it may be she has\nnot finished her feed; and when we come to the Khalif's palace,\nput the bag on her, that she may eat what is left of her fodder,\nwhilst I am with the Khalif.' 'I hear and obey,' replied the man.\n\nSo the Imam rode to the palace and was admitted to the presence\nof Er Reshid, who made him sit down on the couch beside himself,\nwhereas he was used to seat none but him, and said to him, 'We\nhave sent for thee at this hour to advise us upon a grave matter,\nwith which we know not how to deal' And he expounded to him the\ncase. 'O Commander of the Faithful,' replied Abou Yousuf, 'this\nis the easiest of things.' Then he turned to Jaafer and said to\nhim, 'O Jaafer, sell half of her to the Commander of the Faithful\nand give him the other half; so shall ye both be quit of your\noaths.' The Khalif was delighted with this and they did as he\nprescribed. Then said Er Reshid, 'Bring me the girl at once, for\nI long for her exceedingly.' So they brought her and the Khalif\nsaid to Abou Yousuf, 'I have a mind to lie with her forthright;\nfor I cannot endure to abstain from her during the prescribed\nperiod of purification; how is this to be done?' 'Bring me one of\nthine unenfranchised male slaves,' answered the Imam, 'and give\nme leave to marry her to him; then let him divorce her before\nconsummation. So shall it be lawful for thee to lie with her\nbefore purification.' This expedient pleased the Khalif yet more\nthan the first and he sent for the slave. When he came, Er Reshid\nsaid to the Imam, 'I authorize thee to marry her to him.' So the\nImam proposed the marriage to the slave, who accepted it, and\nperformed the due ceremony; after which he said to the slave,\n'Divorce her, and thou shalt have a hundred diners.' But he\nrefused to do this and the Imam went on to increase his offer,\ntill he bid him a thousand diners. Then said the slave to him,\n'Doth it rest with me to divorce her, or with thee or the\nCommander of the Faithful?' 'With thee,' answered the Imam.\n'Then, by Allah,' quoth the slave, 'I will never do it!'\n\nAt this the Khalif was exceeding wroth and said to the Imam,\n'What is to be done, O Abou Yousuf?' 'Be not concerned, O\nCommander of the Faithful,' replied the Imam; 'the thing is easy.\nMake this slave the damsel's property.' Quoth Er Reshid, 'I give\nhim to her;' and the Imam said to the girl, 'Say, \"I accept.\"' So\nshe said, 'I accept:' whereupon quoth Abou Yousuf, 'I pronounce\ndivorce between them, for that he hath become her property, and\nso the marriage is annulled.' With this, Er Reshid sprang to his\nfeet and exclaimed, 'It is the like of thee that shall be Cadi in\nmy time.' Then he called for sundry trays of gold and emptied\nthem before Abou Yousuf, to whom he said, 'Hast thou wherein to\nput this ?' The Imam bethought him of the mule's nose-bag; so he\nsent for it and filling it with gold, took it and went home; and\non the morrow, he said to his friends, 'There is no easier or\nshorter road to the goods of this world and the next, than that\nof learning; for, see, I have received all this money for\nanswering two or three questions.' Consider, then, O polite\n[reader], the pleasantness of this anecdote, for it comprises\ndivers goodly features, amongst which are the complaisance of\nJaafer to Er Reshid and the wisdom[FN#2] of the Khalif and the\nexceeding wisdom of Abou Yousuf, may God the Most High have mercy\non all their souls!\n\n\n\n\n            THE LOVER WHO FEIGNED HIMSELF A THIEF TO\n                  SAVE HIS MISTRESS'S HONOUR.\n\n\n\nThere came one day to Khalid ibn Abdallah el Kesri,[FN#3]\ngovernor of Bassora, a company of men dragging a youth of\nexceeding beauty and lofty bearing, whose aspect expressed good\nbreeding and dignity and abundant wit They brought him before the\ngovernor, who asked what was to do with him, and they replied,\n'This fellow is a thief, whom we caught last night in our\ndwelling.' Khalid looked at him and was struck with wonder at his\nwell-favouredness and elegance; so he said to the others, 'Loose\nhim,' and going up to the young man, asked what he had to say for\nhimself. 'The folk have spoken truly,' answered he; 'and the case\nis as they have said.' 'And what moved thee to this,' asked\nKhalid, 'and thou so noble and comely of aspect?' 'The lust\nafter worldly good,' replied the other, 'and the ordinance of\nGod, glorified and exalted be He!' 'May thy mother be bereaved of\nthee!' rejoined Khalid. 'Hadst thou not, in thy fair face and\nsound sense and good breeding, what should restrain thee from\nthieving?' 'O Amir,' answered the young man, 'leave this talk\nand proceed to what God the Most High hath ordained; this is\nwhat my hands have earned, and God is no oppressor of His\ncreatures.'[FN#4] Khalid was silent awhile, considering the\nmatter; then he said to the young man, 'Verily, thy confession\nbefore witnesses perplexes me, for I cannot believe thee to be a\nthief. Surely thou hast some story that is other than one of\ntheft. Tell it me'. 'O Amir,' replied the youth, 'deem thou\nnought save what I have confessed; for I have no story other than\nthat I entered these folk's house and stole what I could lay\nhands on, and they caught me and took the stuff from me and\ncarried me before thee.' Then Khalid bade clap him in prison and\ncommanded a crier to make proclamation throughout Bassora,\nsaying, 'Ho, whoso is minded to look upon the punishment of such\nan one, the thief, and the cutting off of his hand, let him be\npresent tomorrow morning at such a place!'\n\nWhen the youth found himself in prison, with irons on his feet,\nhe sighed heavily and repeated the following verses, whilst the\ntears streamed from his eyes:\n\nKhalid doth threaten me with cutting off my hand, Except I do\n     reveal to him my mistress' case.\nBut, \"God forbid,\" quoth I, \"that I should e'er reveal That which\n     of love for her my bosom doth embrace!\"\nThe cutting-off my hand, for that I have confessed Unto, less\n     grievous were to me than her disgrace.\n\nThe warders heard him and went and told Khalid, who sent for the\nyouth after nightfall and conversed with him. He found him\nwell-bred and intelligent and of a pleasant and vivacious wit; so\nhe ordered him food and he ate. Then said Khalid, 'I know thou\nhast a story to tell that is no thief's; so, when the Cadi comes\nto-morrow morning and questions thee before the folk, do thou\ndeny the charge of theft and avouch what may avert the cutting-off\nof thy hand; for the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve) saith,\n\"In cases of doubt, eschew [or defer] punishment.\"' Then he sent\nhim back to the prison, where he passed the night.\n\nOn the morrow, the folk assembled to see his hand cut off, nor\nwas there man or woman in Bassora but came forth to look upon his\npunishment. Then Khalid mounted in company of the notables of the\ncity and others and summoning the Cadi, sent for the young man,\nwho came, hobbling in his shackles. There none saw him but wept\nfor him, and the women lifted up their voices in lamentation. The\nCadi bade silence the women and said to the prisoner, 'These\nfolk avouch that thou didst enter their dwelling and steal their\ngoods: belike thou stolest less than a quarter dinar?'[FN#5]\n'Nay,' replied he, 'I stole more than that.' 'Peradventure,'\nrejoined the Cadi, 'thou art partner with them in some of the\ngoods?' 'Not so,' replied the young man; 'it was all theirs. I\nhad no right in it.' At this Khalid was wroth and rose and smote\nhim on the face with his whip, applying this verse to his own\ncase:\n\nMan wisheth and seeketh his wish to fulfil, But Allah denieth\n     save that which He will.\n\nThen he called for the executioner, who came and taking the\nprisoner's hand, set the knife to it and was about to cut it off,\nwhen, behold, a damsel, clad in tattered clothes, pressed through\nthe crowd of women and cried out and threw herself on the young\nman. Then she unveiled and showed a face like the moon; whereupon\nthe people raised a mighty clamour and there was like to have\nbeen a riot amongst them. But she cried out her loudest, saying,\n'I conjure thee, by Allah, O Amir, hasten not to cut off this\nman's hand, till thou have read what is in this scroll!' So\nsaying, she gave him a scroll, and he took it and read therein\nthe following verses:\n\nO Khalid, this man is love-maddened, a cave of desire, Transfixed\n     by the glances that sped from the bows of my eye.\nThe shafts of my looks 'twas that pierced him and slew him;\n     indeed, He a bondsman of love, sick for passion and like for\n     to die.\nYea, rather a crime, that he wrought not, he choose to confess\n     Than suffer on her whom he cherished dishonour to lie.\nHave ruth on a sorrowful lover; indeed he's no thief, But the\n     noblest and truest of mortals for passion that sigh.\n\nWhen he had read this, he called the girl apart and questioned\nher; and she told him that the young man was her lover and she\nhis mistress. He came to the dwelling of her people, thinking to\nvisit her, and threw a stone into the house, to warn her of his\ncoming. Her father and brothers heard the noise of the stone and\nsallied out on him; but he, hearing them coming, caught up all\nthe household stuff and made as if he would have stolen it, to\ncover his mistress's honour. 'So they seized him,' continued she,\n'saying, \"A thief!\" and brought him before thee, whereupon he\nconfessed to the robbery and persisted in his confession, that he\nmight spare me dishonour; and this he did, making himself a\nthief, of the exceeding nobility and generosity of his nature.'\n\n'He is indeed worthy to have his desire,' replied Khalid and\ncalling the young man to him, kissed him between the eyes. Then\nhe sent for the girl's father and bespoke him, saying, 'O elder,\nwe thought to punish this young man by cutting off his hand; but\nGod (to whom belong might and majesty) hath preserved us from\nthis! and I now adjudge him the sum of ten thousand dirhems, for\nthat he would have sacrificed his hand for the preservation of\nthine honour and that of thy daughter and the sparing you both\nreproach. Moreover, I adjudge other ten thousand dirhems to thy\ndaughter, for that she made known to me the truth of the case;\nand I ask thy leave to marry him to her.' 'O Amir,' rejoined the\nold man, 'thou hast my consent.' So Khalid praised God and\nthanked Him and offered up a goodly exhortation and prayer; after\nwhich he said to the young man, 'I give thee this damsel to wife,\nwith her own and her father's consent; and her dowry shall be\nthis money, to wit, ten thousand dirhems. 'I accept this marriage\nat thy hands,' replied the youth and Khalid let carry the money\non trays in procession to the young man's house, whilst the\npeople dispersed, full of gladness. And surely [quoth he who\ntells the tale[FN#6]] never saw I a rarer day than this, for that\nits beginning was weeping and affliction and its end joy and\ngladness.\n\n\n\n\n            JAAFER THE BARMECIDE AND THE BEANSELLER.\n\n\n\nWhen Haroun er Reshid put Jaafer the Barmecide to death, he\ncommanded that all who wept or made moan for him should be\ncrucified; so the folk abstained from this. Now there was a\nBedouin from a distant desert, who used every year to make and\nbring to Jaafer an ode in his honour, for which he rewarded him\nwith a thousand diners; and the Bedouin took them and returning\nto his own country, lived upon them, he and his family, for the\nrest of the year. Accordingly, he came with his ode at the wonted\ntime and finding Jaafer done to death, betook himself to the\nplace where his body was hanging, and there made his camel kneel\ndown and wept sore and mourned grievously. Then he recited his\node and fell asleep. In his sleep Jaafer the Barmecide appeared\nto him and said, 'Thou hast wearied thyself to come to us and\nfindest us as thou seest; but go to Bassora and ask for such a\nman there of the merchants of the town and say to him, \"Jaafer\nthe Barmecide salutes thee and bids thee give me a thousand\ndiners, by the token of the bean.\"'\n\nWhen the Bedouin awoke, he repaired to Bassora, where he sought\nout the merchant and repeated to him what Jaafer had said in the\ndream; whereupon he wept sore, till he was like to depart the\nworld. Then he welcomed the Bedouin and entertained him three\ndays as an honoured guest; and when he was minded to depart, he\ngave him a thousand and five hundred diners, saying, 'The\nthousand are what is commanded to thee, and the five hundred are\na gift from me to thee; and every year thou shalt have of me a\nthousand diners.' When the Bedouin was about to take leave, he\nsaid to the merchant, 'I conjure thee, by Allah, tell me the\nstory of the bean, that I may know the origin of all this.' 'In\nthe early part of my life,' replied the merchant, 'I was\nmiserably poor and hawked hot boiled beans about the streets of\nBaghdad for a living.\n\nI went out one cold, rainy day, without clothes enough on my body\nto protect me from the weather, now shivering for excess of cold\nand now stumbling into the pools of rain-water, and altogether in\nso piteous a plight as would make one shudder to look upon. Now\nit chanced that Jaafer was seated that day, with his officers and\nfavourites, in an upper chamber overlooking the street, and his\neye fell on me; so he took pity on my case and sending one of his\nservants to fetch me to him, said to me, \"Sell thy beans to my\npeople.\" So I began to mete out the beans with a measure I had\nwith me, and each who took a measure of beans filled the vessel\nwith gold pieces, till the basket was empty. Then I gathered\ntogether the money I had gotten, and Jaafer said to me, \"Hast\nthou any beans left?\" \"I know not,\" answered I and sought in the\nbasket, but found only one bean. This Jaafer took and splitting\nit in twain, kept one half himself and gave the other to one of\nhis favourites, saying, \"For how much wilt thou buy this\nhalf-bean?\" \"For the tale of all this money twice-told,\" replied\nshe; whereat I was confounded and said in myself, \"This is\nimpossible.\" But, as I stood wondering, she gave an order to one\nof her handmaids and the girl brought me the amount twice-told.\nThen said Jaafer, \"And I will buy my half for twice the sum of\nthe whole. Take the price of thy bean.\" And he gave an order to\none of his servants, who gathered together the whole of the money\nand laid it in my basket; and I took it and departed. Then I\nbetook myself to Bassora, where I traded with the money and God\nprospered me, to Him be the praise and the thanks! So, if I give\nthee a thousand diners a year of the bounty of Jaafer, it will in\nno wise irk me.' Consider then the munificence of Jaafer's nature\nand how he was praised both alive and dead, the mercy of God the\nMost High be upon him!\n\n\n\n\n\n                    ABOU MOHAMMED THE LAZY.\n\n\n\nIt is told that Haroun er Reshid was sitting one day on the\nthrone of the Khalifate, when there came in to him a youth of his\neunuchs, bearing a crown of red gold, set with pearls and rubies\nand all manner other jewels, such as money might not buy, and\nkissing the ground before him, said, 'O Commander of the\nFaithful, the lady Zubeideh kisses the earth before thee and\nsaith to thee, thou knowest she hath let make this crown, which\nlacks a great jewel for its top; and she hath made search among\nher treasures, but cannot find a jewel to her mind.' Quoth the\nKhalif to his chamberlains and officers, 'Make search for a\ngreat jewel, such as Zubeideh desires.' So they sought, but found\nnothing befitting her and told the Khalif, who was vexed thereat\nand exclaimed, 'Am I Khalif and king of the kings of the earth\nand lack of a jewel? Out on ye! Enquire of the merchants.' So\nthey enquired of the merchants, who replied, 'Our lord the Khalif\nwill not find a jewel such as he requires save with a man of\nBassora, by name Abou Mohammed the Lazy.' They acquainted the\nKhalif with this and he bade his Vizier Jaafer send a letter to\nthe Amir Mohammed ez Zubeidi, governor of Bassora, commanding him\nto equip Abou Mohammed the Lazy and bring him to Baghdad.\n\nJaafer accordingly wrote a letter to that effect and despatched\nit by Mesrour, who set out forthright for Bassora and went in to\nthe governor, who rejoiced in him and entreated him with the\nutmost honour. Then Mesrour read him the Khalif's mandate, to\nwhich he replied, 'I hear and obey,' and forthwith despatched\nhim, with a company of his followers, to Abou Mohammed's house.\nWhen they reached it, they knocked at the door, whereupon a\nservant came out and Mesrour said to him, 'Tell thy master that\nthe Commander of the Faithful calls for him.' The servant went in\nand told his master, who came out and found Mesrour, the Khalif's\nchamberlain, and a company of the governor's men at the door. So\nhe kissed the earth before Mesrour and said, 'I hear and obey the\nsummons of the Commander of the Faithful; but enter ye my house.'\n'We cannot do that,' replied Mesrour, 'save in haste; for the\nCommander of the Faithful awaits thy coming.' But he said, 'Have\npatience with me a little, till I set my affairs in order.' So,\nafter much pressure and persuasion, they entered and found the\ncorridor hung with curtains of blue brocade, figured with gold,\nand Abou Mohammed bade one of his servants carry Mesrour to the\nbath. Now this bath was in the house and Mesrour found its walls\nand floor of rare and precious marbles, wrought with gold and\nsilver, and its waters mingled with rose-water. The servants\nserved Mesrour and his company on the most perfect wise and clad\nthem, on their going forth of the bath, in robes of honour of\nbrocade, interwoven with gold.\n\nThen they went in to Abou Mohammed and found him seated in his\nupper chamber upon a couch inlaid with jewels. Over his head hung\ncurtains of gold brocade, wrought with pearls and jewels, and the\nplace was spread with cushions, embroidered in red gold. When he\nsaw Mesrour, he rose to receive him and bidding him welcome,\nseated him by his side. Then he called for food: so they brought\nthe table of food, which when Mesrour saw, he exclaimed, 'By\nAllah, never saw I the like of this in the palace of the\nCommander of the Faithful!' For indeed it comprised all manner of\nmeats, served in dishes of gilded porcelain. So they ate and\ndrank and made merry till the end of the day, when Abou Mohammed\ngave Mesrour and each of his company five thousand diners; and on\nthe morrow he clad them in dresses of honour of green and\ngold and entreated them with the utmost honour. Then said\nMesrour to him, 'We can abide no longer, for fear of the Khalif's\ndispleasure.' 'O my lord,' answered Abou Mohammed, 'have patience\nwith us till to-morrow, that we may equip ourselves, and we will\nthen depart with you.' So they tarried that day and night with\nhim; and next morning, Abou Mohammed's servants saddled him a\nmule with housings and trappings of gold, set with all manner\npearls and jewels; whereupon quoth Mesrour in himself, 'I wonder\nif, when he presents himself in this equipage before the\nCommander of the Faithful, he will ask him how he came by all\nthis wealth.'\n\nThen they took leave of Ez Zubeidi and setting out from Bassora,\nfared on, without stopping, till they reached Baghdad and\npresented themselves before the Khalif who bade Abou Mohammed be\nseated. So he sat down and addressing the Khalif in courtly wise,\nsaid to him, 'O Commander of the Faithful, I have brought with me\na present by way of homage: have I thy leave to produce it?'\n'There is no harm in that,' replied the Khalif; whereupon Abou\nMohammed caused bring in a chest, from which he took a number of\nrarities and amongst the rest, trees of gold, with leaves of\nemerald and fruits of rubies and topazes and pearls. Then he\nfetched another chest and brought out of it a pavilion of\nbrocade, adorned with pearls and rubies and emeralds and\nchrysolites and other precious stones; its poles were of the\nfinest Indian aloes-wood, and its skirts were set with emeralds.\nThereon were depicted all manner beasts and birds and other\ncreated things, spangled with rubies and emeralds and chrysolites\nand balass rubies and other precious stones.\n\nWhen Er Reshid saw these things, he rejoiced exceedingly, and\nAbou Mohammed said to him, 'O Commander of the Faithful, deem not\nthat I have brought these to thee, fearing aught or coveting\naught; but I knew myself to be but a man of the people and that\nthese things befitted none save the Commander of the Faithful.\nAnd now, with thy leave, I will show thee, for thy diversion,\nsomething of what I can do.' 'Do what thou wilt,' answered Er\nReshid, 'that we may see.' 'I hear and obey,' said Abou Mohammed\nand moving his lips, beckoned to the battlements of the palace,\nwhereupon they inclined to him; then he made another sign to\nthem, and they returned to their place. Then he made a sign with\nhis eye, and there appeared before him cabinets with closed\ndoors, to which he spoke, and lo, the voices of birds answered\nhim [from within]. The Khalif marvelled exceedingly at this and\nsaid to him, 'How camest thou by all this, seeing that thou art\nonly known as Abou Mohammed the Lazy, and they tell me that thy\nfather was a barber-surgeon, serving in a public bath, and left\nthee nothing?' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered he,\n'listen to my story, for it is an extraordinary one and its\nparticulars are wonderful; were it graven with needles upon the\ncorners of the eye, it would serve as a lesson to him who can\nprofit by admonition.' 'Let us hear it,' said the Khalif.\n\n'Know then, O Commander of the Faithful,' replied Abou Mohammed,\n'(may God prolong to thee glory and dominion,) that the report of\nthe folk, that I am known as the Lazy and that my father left me\nnothing, is true; for he was, as thou hast said, but a barber-\nsurgeon in a bath. In my youth I was the laziest wight on the\nface of the earth; indeed, so great was my sluggishness that,\nif I lay asleep in the sultry season and the sun came round upon\nme, I was too lazy to rise and remove from the sun to the shade;\nand thus I abode till I reached my fifteenth year, when my father\nwas admitted to the mercy of God the Most High and left me\nnothing. However, my mother used to go out to service and feed me\nand give me to drink, whilst I lay on my side.\n\n\nOne day, she came in to me, with five silver dirhems, and said to\nme, \"O my son, I hear that the Sheikh Aboul Muzeffer is about to\ngo a voyage to China.\" (Now this Sheikh was a good and charitable\nman and loved the poor.) \"So come, let us carry him these five\ndirhems and beg him to buy thee therewith somewhat from the land\nof China, so haply thou mayst make a profit of it, by the bounty\nof God the Most High!\" I was too lazy to move; but she swore by\nAllah that, except I rose and went with her, she would neither\nbring me meat nor drink nor come in to me, but would leave me to\ndie of hunger and thirst. When I heard this, O Commander of the\nFaithful, I knew she would do as she said; so I said to her,\n\"Help me to sit up.\" She did so, and I wept the while and said to\nher, \"Bring me my shoes.\" Accordingly, she brought them and I\nsaid, \"Put them on my feet.\" She put them on my feet and I said,\n\"Lift me up.\" So she lifted me up and I said, \"Support me, that I\nmay walk.\" So she supported me and I went along thus, still\nstumbling in my skirts, till we came to the river-bank, where we\nsaluted the Sheikh and I said to him, \"O uncle, art thou Aboul\nMuzeffer?\" \"At thy service,\" answered he, and I said, \"Take these\ndirhems and buy me somewhat from the land of China: haply, God\nmay vouchsafe me a profit of it.\" Quoth the Sheikh to his\ncompanions, \"Do ye know this youth?\" \"Yes,\" replied they; \"he is\nknown as Abou Mohammed the Lazy, and we never saw him stir from\nhis house till now.\" Then said he to me, \"O my son, give me the\ndirhems and the blessing of God the Most High go with them!\" So\nhe took the money, saying, \"In the name of God!\" and I returned\nhome with my mother.\n\nMeanwhile the Sheikh set sail, with a company of merchants, and\nstayed not till they reached the land of China, where they bought\nand sold, and having done their intent, set out on their homeward\nvoyage. When they had been three days at sea, the Sheikh said to\nhis company, \"Stay the ship!\" And they asked him what was to do\nwith him. \"Know,\" replied he, \"that I have forgotten the\ncommission with which Abou Mohammed the Lazy charged me; so let\nus turn back, that we may buy him somewhat whereby he may\nprofit.\" \"We conjure thee, by God the Most High,\" exclaimed they,\n\"turn not back with us; for we have traversed an exceeding great\ndistance and endured sore hardship and many perils.\" Quoth he,\n\"There is no help for it;\" and they said \"Take from us double the\nprofit of the five dirhems and turn not back with us.\" So he\nagreed to this and they collected for him a great sum of money.\n\nThen they sailed on, till they came to an island, wherein was\nmuch people; so they moored thereto and the merchants went\nashore, to buy thence precious metals and pearls and jewels and\nso forth. Presently, Aboul Muzeffer saw a man seated, with many\napes before him, and amongst them one whose hair had been plucked\noff. As often as the man's attention was diverted from them, the\nother apes fell upon the plucked one and beat him and threw him\non their master; whereupon the latter rose and beat them and\nbound them and punished them for this; and all the apes were\nwroth with the plucked ape therefor and beat him the more. When\nAboul Muzeffer saw this, he took compassion upon the plucked ape\nand said to his master, \"Wilt thou sell me yonder ape?\" \"Buy,\"\nreplied the man, and Aboul Muzeffer rejoined, \"I have with me\nfive dirhems, belonging to an orphan lad. Wilt thou sell me the\nape for that sum?\" \"He is thine,\" answered the ape-merchant. \"May\nGod give thee a blessing of him!\" So the Sheikh paid the money\nand his slaves took the ape and tied him up in the ship.\n\nThen they loosed sail and made for another island, where they\ncast anchor; and there came down divers, who dived for pearls and\ncorals and other jewels. So the merchants hired them for money\nand they dived. When the ape saw this, he did himself loose from\nhis bonds and leaping off the ship's side, dived with them;\nwhereupon quoth Aboul Muzeffer, \"There is no power and no virtue\nbut in God the Most High, the Supreme! The ape is lost to us, by\nthe [ill] fortune of the poor fellow for whom we bought him.\" And\nthey despaired of him; but, after awhile, the company of divers\nrose to the surface, and with them the ape, with his hands full\nof jewels of price, which he threw down before Aboul Muzeffer,\nwho marvelled at this and said, \"There hangs some great mystery\nby this ape!\"\n\nThen they cast off and sailed till they came to a third island,\ncalled the Island of the Zunonj,[FN#7] who are a people of the\nblacks, that eat human flesh. When the blacks saw them, they\nboarded them in canoes and taking all in the ship, pinioned them\nand carried them to their king who bade slaughter certain of the\nmerchants. So they slaughtered them and ate their flesh; and the\nrest passed the night in prison and sore concern. But, when it\nwas [mid]night, the ape arose and going up to Aboul Muzeffer, did\noff his bonds. When the others saw him free, they said, \"God\ngrant that our deliverance may be at thy hands, O Aboul\nMuzeffer!\" But he replied, \"Know that he who at delivered me, by\nGod's leave, was none other than this ape; and I buy my release\nof him at a thousand dinars.\" \"And we likewise,\" rejoined the\nmerchants, \"will pay him a thousand diners each, if he release\nus.\" With this, the ape went up to them and loosed their bonds,\none by one, till he had freed them all, when they made for the\nship and boarding her, found all safe and nothing missing. So\nthey cast off and set sail; and presently Aboul Muzeffer said to\nthem, \"O merchants, fulfil your promise to the ape.\" \"We hear and\nobey,\" answered they and paid him a thousand diners each, whilst\nAboul Muzeffer brought out to him the like sum of his own monies,\nso that there was a great sum of money collected for the ape.\n\nThen they fared on till they reached the city of Bassora, where\ntheir friends came out to meet them; and when they had landed,\nthe Sheikh said, \"Where is Abou Mohammed the Lazy?\" The news\nreached my mother, who came to me, as I lay asleep, and said to\nme, \"O my son, the Sheikh Aboul Muzeffer has come back and is now\nin the city; so go thou to him and salute him and enquire what he\nhath brought thee; it may be God hath blessed thee with\nsomewhat.\" \"Lift me from the ground,\" quoth I, \"and prop me up,\nwhilst I walk to the river-bank.\" So she lifted me up and I went\nout and walked on, stumbling in my skirts, till I met the Sheikh,\nwho exclaimed, at sight of me, \"Welcome to him whose money has\nbeen the means of my delivery and that of these merchants, by\nthe will of God the Most High! Take this ape that I bought for\nthee and carry him home and wait till I come to thee.\" So I\ntook the ape, saying in myself, \"By Allah, this is indeed rare\nmerchandise!\" and drove it home, where I said to my mother,\n\"Whenever I lie down to sleep, thou biddest me rise and trade;\nsee now this merchandise with thine own eyes.\"\n\nThen I sat down, and presently up came Aboul Muzeffer's slaves\nand said to me, \"Art thou Abou Mohammed the Lazy?\" \"Yes,\"\nanswered I; and behold, Aboul Muzeffer appeared behind them. So I\nwent up to him and kissed his hands; and he said to me, \"Come\nwith me to my house.\" \"I hear and obey,\" answered I and followed\nhim to his house, where he bade his servants bring me the money\n[and what not else the ape had earned me]. So they brought it and\nhe said to me, \"O my son, God hath blessed thee with this wealth,\nby way of profit on thy five dirhems.\" Then the slaves laid the\ntreasure in chests, which they set on their heads, and Aboul\nMuzeffer gave me the keys of the chests, saying, \"Go before the\nslaves to thy house; for all this wealth is thine.\" So I returned\nto my mother, who rejoiced in this and said to me, \"O my son, God\nhath blessed thee with this much wealth; so put off thy laziness\nand go down to the bazaar and sell and buy.\" So I shook off my\nsloth, and opened a shop in the bazaar, where the ape used to sit\non the same divan with me, eating with me when I ate and drinking\nwhen I drank. But, every day, he was absent from daybreak till\nnoon-day, when he came back, bringing with him a purse of a\nthousand diners, which he laid by my side, and sat down. Thus did\nhe a great while, till I amassed much wealth, wherewith I bought\nhouses and lands and planted gardens and got me slaves, black and\nwhite and male and female.\n\nOne day, as I sat in my shop, with the ape at my side, he began\nto turn right and left, and I said in myself, \"What ails the\nbeast?\" Then God made the ape speak with a glib tongue, and he\nsaid to me, \"O Abou Mohammed!\" When I heard him speak, I was sore\nafraid; but he said to me, \"Fear not; I will tell thee my case.\nKnow that I am a Marid of the Jinn and came to thee, because of\nthy poor estate; but to-day thou knowest not the tale of thy\nwealth; and now I have a need of thee, wherein it thou do my\nwill, it shall be well for thee.\" \"What is it?\" asked I, and he\nsaid, \"I have a mind to marry thee to a girl like the full moon.\"\n\"How so?\" quoth I. \"To. morrow,\" replied he, \"don thou thy\nrichest clothes and mount thy mule, with the saddle of gold, and\nride to the forage-market. There enquire for the shop of the\nSherif[FN#8] and sit down beside him and say to him, 'I come to\nthee a suitor for thy daughter's hand.' If he say to thee, 'Thou\nhast neither money nor condition nor family,' pull out a thousand\ndiners and give them to him; and if he ask more, give him more\nand tempt him with money.\" \"I hear and obey,\" answered I;\n\"to-morrow, if it please God, I will do thy bidding.\"\n\nSo on the morrow I donned my richest clothes and mounting my mule\nwith trappings of gold, rode, attended by half a score slaves,\nblack and white, to the forage-market, where I found the Sherif\nsitting in his shop. I alighted and saluting him, seated myself\nbeside him. Quoth he, \"Haply, thou hast some business with us,\nwhich we may have the pleasure of transacting?\" \"Yes,\" answered\nI; \"I have business with thee.\" \"And what is it?\" asked he. Quoth\nI, \"I come to thee as a suitor for thy daughter's hand.\" And he\nsaid, \"Thou hast neither money nor condition nor family;\"\nwhereupon I pulled out a thousand diners of red gold and said to\nhim, \"This is my rank and family; and he whom God bless and keep\nhath said, 'The best of ranks is wealth.' And how well saith the\npoet:\n\nWhoso hath money, though it be but dirhems twain, his lips Have\n     learnt all manner speech and he can speak and fear no\n     slight.\nHis brethren and his mates draw near and hearken to his word And\n     'mongst the folk thou seest him walk, a glad and prideful\n     wight.\nBut for the money, in the which he glorieth on this wise,\n     Thou'dst find him, midst his fellow-men, in passing sorry\n     plight.\nYea, whensoe'er the rich man speaks, though in his speech he err,\n     'Thou hast not spoken a vain thing,' they say; 'indeed,\n     thou'rt right.'\nBut, for the poor man, an he speak, albeit he say sooth, They\n     say, 'Thou liest,' and make void his speech and hold it\n     light\nFor money, verily, in all the lands beneath the sun, With\n     goodliness and dignity cloth its possessors dight.\nA very tongue it is for him who would be eloquent And eke a\n     weapon to his hand who hath a mind to fight.\"\n\nWhen he heard this, he bowed his head awhile, then, raising it,\nsaid, \"If it must be so, I will have of thee other three thousand\ndiners.\" \"I hear and obey,\" answered I and sent one of my\nservants to my house for the money. When he came back with it, I\nhanded it to the Sherif, who rose and bidding his servants shut\nhis shop, invited his brother-merchants to the wedding; after\nwhich he carried me to his house and drew up the contract of\nmarriage between his daughter and myself, saying to me, \"After\nten days, I will bring thee in to her.\" So I went home rejoicing\nand shutting myself up with the ape, told him what had passed;\nand he said, \"Thou hast done well.\"\n\nWhen the time appointed by the Sherif drew near, the ape said to\nme, \"There is a thing I would fain have thee do for me; and\nafter, thou shalt have of me what thou wilt.\" \"What is that?\"\nasked I. Quoth he, \"At the upper end of the bridechamber stands a\ncabinet, on whose door is a padlock of brass and the keys under\nit. Take the keys and open the cabinet, in which thou wilt find a\ncoffer of iron, with four talismanic flags at its angles. In its\nmidst is a brass basin full of money, wherein is tied a white\ncock with a cleft comb; and on one side of the coffer are eleven\nserpents and on the other a knife. Take the knife and kill the\ncock; cut away the flags and overturn the chest; then go back to\nthe bride and do away her maidenhead. This is what I have to ask\nof thee.\" \"I hear and obey,\" answered I and betook myself to the\nSherif's house.\n\nAs soon as I entered the bridechamber, I looked for the cabinet\nand found it even as the ape had described it. Then I went in to\nthe bride and marvelled at her beauty and grace and symmetry, for\nindeed they were such as no tongue can set forth. So I rejoiced\nin her with an exceeding joy; and in the middle of the night,\nwhen she slept, I rose and taking the keys, opened the cabinet.\nThen I took the knife and killed the cock and threw down the\nflags and overturned the coffer, whereupon the girl awoke and\nseeing the closet open and the cock slain, exclaimed, \"There is\nno power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme! The\nMarid hath gotten me!\" Hardly had she made an end of speaking,\nwhen the Marid came down upon the house and seizing the bride,\nflew away with her; whereupon there arose a great clamour and in\ncame the Sherif, buffeting his face. \"O Abou Mohammed,\" said he,\n\"what is this thou hast done? Is it thus thou requitest us? I\nmade the talisman in the cabinet in my fear for my daughter from\nthis accursed one; for these six years hath he sought to steal\naway the girl, but could not. But now there is no more abiding\nfor thee with us; so go thy ways.\"\n\nSo I went out and returned to my own house, where I made search\nfor the ape, but could find no trace of him; whereby I knew that\nhe was the Marid, who had taken my wife and had tricked me into\ndestroying the talisman that hindered him from taking her, and\nrepented, rending my clothes and buffeting my face; and there was\nno land but was straitened upon me. So I made for the desert,\nknowing not whither I should go, and wandered on, absorbed in\nmelancholy thought, till night overtook me. Presently, I saw two\nserpents fighting, a white one and a tawny. So I took up a stone\nand throwing it at the tawny serpent, which was the aggressor,\nkilled it; whereupon the white serpent made off, but returned\nafter awhile accompanied by ten others of the same colour, which\nwent up to the dead serpent and tore it in pieces, till but the\nhead was left. Then they went their ways and I fell prostrate for\nweariness on the ground where I stood; but, as I lay, pondering\nmy case, I heard a voice repeat the following verses, though I\nsaw no one:\n\nLet destiny with slackened rein its course appointed fare And lie\n     thou down by night to sleep with heart devoid of care.\nFor, twixt the closing of the eyes and th' opening thereof, God\n     hath it in His power to change a case from foul to fair.\n\nWhen I heard this, great concern got hold of me and I was beyond\nmeasure troubled; and I heard a voice from behind me repeat these\nverses also:\n\nMuslim, whose guide's the Koran and his due, Rejoice, for succour\n     cometh thee unto.\nLet not the wiles of Satan make thee rue, For we're a folk whose\n     creed's the One, the True.\n\nThen said I, \"I conjure thee by Him whom thou worshippest, let me\nknow who thou art!\" Thereupon the unseen speaker appeared to me,\nin the likeness of a man, and said, \"Fear not; for the report of\nthy good deed hath reached us, and we are a people of the\ntrue-believing Jinn. So, if thou lack aught, let us know it, that\nwe may have the pleasure of fulfilling thy need.\" \"Indeed,\"\nanswered I, \"I am in sore need, for there hath befallen me a\ngrievous calamity, whose like never yet befell man.\" Quoth he,\n\"Surely, thou art Abou Mohammed the Lazy?\" And I answered, \"Yes.\"\n\"O Abou Mohammed,\" rejoined the genie, \"I am the brother of the\nwhite serpent, whose enemy thou slewest. We are four brothers, by\none father and mother, and we are all indebted to thee for thy\nkindness. Know that he who played this trick on thee, in the\nlikeness of an ape, is a Marid of the Marids of the Jinn; and had\nhe not used this artifice, he had never been able to take the\ngirl; for he hath loved her and had a mind to take her this long\nwhile, but could not win at her, being hindered of the talisman;\nand had it remained as it was, he could never have done so.\nHowever, fret not thyself for that; we will bring thee to her and\nkill the Marid; for thy kindness is not lost upon us.\"\n\nThen he cried out with a terrible voice, and behold, there\nappeared a company of Jinn, of whom he enquired concerning the\nape; and one of them said, \"I know his abiding-place; it is in\nthe City of Brass, upon which the sun riseth not.\" Then said the\nfirst genie to me, \"O Abou Mohammed, take one of these our\nslaves, and he will carry thee on his back and teach thee how\nthou shalt get back the girl: but know that he is a Marid and\nbeware lest thou utter the name of God, whilst he is carrying\nthee; or he will flee from thee, and thou wilt fall and be\ndestroyed.\" \"I hear and obey,\" answered I and chose out one of\nthe slaves, who bent down and said to me, \"Mount.\" So I mounted\non his back, and he flew up with me into the air, till I lost\nsight of the earth and saw the stars as they were fixed mountains\nand heard the angels glorifying God in heaven, what while the\nMarid held me in converse, diverting me and hindering me from\npronouncing the name of God. But, as we flew, behold, one clad in\ngreen raiment, with streaming tresses and radiant face, holding\nin his hand a javelin whence issued sparks of fire, accosted me,\nsaying, \"O Abou Mohammed, say, 'There is no god but God and\nMohammed is His apostle;' or I will smite thee with this\njavelin.\"\n\nNow I was already sick at heart of my [forced] abstention from\ncalling on the name of God; so I said, \"There is no god but God\nand Mohammed is His apostle.\" Whereupon the shining one smote the\nMarid with his javelin and he melted away and became ashes;\nwhilst I was precipitated from his back and fell headlong toward\nthe earth, till I dropped into the midst of a surging sea,\nswollen with clashing billows. Hard by where I fell was a ship\nand five sailors therein, who, seeing me, made for me and took me\nup into the boat. They began to speak to me in some tongue I knew\nnot; but I signed to them that I understood not their speech. So\nthey fared on till ended day, when they cast out a net and caught\na great fish and roasting it, gave me to eat; after which they\nsailed on, till they reached their city and carried me in to\ntheir king, who understand Arabic. So I kissed the ground before\nhim, and he bestowed on me a dress of honour and made me one of\nhis officers. I asked him the name of the city, and he replied,\n\"It is called Henad and is in the land of China.\" Then he\ncommitted me to his Vizier, bidding him show me the city, which\nwas formerly peopled by infidels, till God the Most High turned\nthem into stones; and there I abode a month's space, diverting\nmyself with viewing the place, nor saw I ever greater plenty of\ntrees and fruits than there.\n\nOne day, as I sat on the bank of a river, there accosted me a\nhorseman, who said to me, \"Art thou not Abou Mohammed the Lazy?\"\n\"Yes,\" answered I; whereupon, \"Fear not,\" said he; \"for the\nreport of thy good deed hath reached us.\" Quoth I, \"Who art\nthou?\" And he answered, \"I am a brother of the white serpent, and\nthou art hard by the place where is the damsel whom thou\nseekest.\" So saying, he took off his [outer] clothes and clad me\ntherein, saying, \"Fear not; for he, that perished under thee, was\none of our slaves.\" Then he took me up behind him and rode on\nwith me, till we came to a desert place, when he said to me,\n\"Alight now and walk on between yonder mountains till thou seest\nthe City of Brass; then halt afar off and enter it not, till I\nreturn to thee and teach thee how thou shalt do.\" \"I hear and\nobey,\" replied I and alighting, walked on till I came to the\ncity, the walls whereof I found of brass. I went round about it,\nlooking for a gate, but found none; and presently, the serpent's\nbrother rejoined me and gave me a charmed sword that should\nhinder any from seeing me, then went his way.\n\nHe had been gone but a little while, when I heard a noise of\ncries and found myself in the midst of a multitude of folk whose\neyes were in their breasts. Quoth they, \"Who art thou and what\nbrings thee hither?\" So I told them my story, and they said, \"The\ngirl thou seekest is in the city with the Marid; but we know not\nwhat he hath done with her. As for us, we are brethren of the\nwhite serpent. But go to yonder spring and note where the water\nenters, and enter thou with it; for it will bring thee into the\ncity.\" I did as they bade me and followed the water-course, till\nit brought me to a grotto under the earth, from which I ascended\nand found myself in the midst of the city. Here I saw the damsel\nseated upon a throne of gold, under a canopy of brocade, midmost\na garden full of trees of gold, whose fruits were jewels of\nprice, such as rubies and chrysolites and pearls and coral.\n\nWhen she saw me, she knew me and accosted me with the\n[obligatory] salutation, saying, \"O my lord, who brought thee\nhither?\" So I told her all that had passed and she said, \"Know\nthat the accursed Marid, of the greatness of his love for me,\nhath told me what doth him hurt and what profit and that there is\nhere a talisman by means whereof he could, an he would, destroy\nthis city and all that are therein. It is in the likeness of an\neagle, with I know not what written on it, and whoso possesses\nit, the Afrits will do his commandment in everything. It stands\nupon a column in such a place; so go thou thither and take it.\nThen set it before thee and taking a chafing-dish, throw into it\na little musk, whereupon there will arise a smoke, that will draw\nall the Afrits to thee, and they will all present themselves\nbefore thee, nor shall one be absent; and whatsoever thou biddest\nthem, that will they do. Arise therefore and do this thing, with\nthe blessing of God the Most High.\"\n\n\"I hear and obey,\" answered I and going to the column, did what\nshe bade me, whereupon the Afrits presented themselves, saying,\n\"Here are we, O our lord! Whatsoever thou biddest us, that will\nwe do.\" Quoth I, \"Bind the Marid that brought the damsel hither.\"\n\"We hear and obey,\" answered they and disappearing, returned\nafter awhile and informed me that they had done my bidding. Then\nI dismissed them and returning to my wife, told her what had\nhappened and said to her, \"Wilt thou go with me?\" \"Yes,\" answered\nshe. So I carried her forth of the city, by the underground\nchannel, and we fared on, till we fell in with the folk who had\nshown me the way into the city. I besought them to teach me how I\nshould return to my native land; so they brought us to the\nseashore and set us aboard a ship, which sailed on with us with a\nfair wind, till we reached the city of Bassora. Here we landed,\nand I carried my wife to her father's house; and when her people\nsaw her, they rejoiced with an exceeding joy. Then I fumigated\nthe eagle with musk and the Afrits flocked to me from all sides,\nsaying, \"At thy service; what wilt thou have us do?\" I bade them\ntransport all that was in the City of Brass of gold and silver\nand jewels and precious things to my house in Bassora, which they\ndid; and I then ordered them to fetch the ape. So they brought\nhim before me, abject and humiliated, and I said to him, \"O\naccursed one, why hast thou dealt thus perfidiously with me?\"\nThen I commanded the Afrits to shut him in a brazen vessel: so\nthey put him in a strait vessel of brass and sealed it with lead.\nBut I abode with my wife in joy and delight; and now, O Commander\nof the Faithful, I have under my hand such stores of precious\nthings and rare jewels and other treasure as neither reckoning\nmay comprise nor measure suffice unto. All this is of the bounty\nof God the Most High, and if thou desire aught of money or what\nnot, I will bid the Jinn bring it to thee forthright.'\n\nThe Khalif wondered greatly at his story and bestowed on him\nroyal gifts, in exchange for his presents, and entreated him with\nthe favour he deserved.\n\n\n\n\n\n            THE GENEROUS DEALING OF YEHYA BEN KHALID\n                  THE BARMECIDE WITH MENSOUR.\n\n\n\nIt is told that Haroun er Reshid, in the days before he became\njealous of the Barmecides, sent once for one of his guards, Salih\nby name, and said to him, 'O Salih, go to Mensour[FN#9] and say\nto him, \"Thou owest us a thousand thousand dirhems and we require\nof thee immediate payment of the amount.\" And I charge thee, O\nSalih, an he pay it not before sundown, sever his head from his\nbody and bring it to me.' 'I hear and obey,' answered Salih and\ngoing to Mensour, acquainted him with what the Khalif had said,\nwhereupon quoth he, 'By Allah, I am a lost man; for all my estate\nand all my hand owns, if sold for their utmost value, would not\nfetch more than a hundred thousand dirhems. Whence then, O Salih,\nshall I get the other nine hundred thousand?' 'Contrive how thou\nmayst speedily acquit thyself,' answered Salih; 'else art thou a\ndead man; for I cannot grant thee a moment's delay after the time\nappointed me by the Khalif, nor can I fail of aught that he hath\nenjoined on me. Hasten, therefore, to devise some means of saving\nthyself ere the time expire.' 'O Salih,' quoth Mensour, 'I beg\nthee of thy favour to bring me to my house, that I may take\nleave of my children and family and give my kinsfolk my last\ninjunctions.'\n\nSo he carried him to his house, where he fell to bidding his\nfamily farewell, and the house was filled with a clamour of\nweeping and lamentation and calling on God for help. Then Salih\nsaid to him, 'I have bethought me that God may peradventure\nvouchsafe thee relief at the hands of the Barmecides. Come, let\nus go to the house of Yehya ben Khalid.' So they went to Yehya's\nhouse, and Mensour told him his case, whereat he was sore\nconcerned and bowed his head awhile; then raising it, he called\nhis treasurer and said to him, 'How much money have we in our\ntreasury?' 'Five thousand dirhems,' answered the treasurer, and\nYehya bade him bring them and sent a message to his son Fezl,\nsaying, 'I am offered for sale estates of great price, that may\nnever be laid waste; so send me somewhat of money.' Fezl sent him\na thousand thousand dirhems, and he despatched a like message to\nhis son Jaafer, who also sent him a thousand thousand dirhems;\nnor did he leave sending to his kinsmen of the Barmecides, till\nhe had collected from them a great sum of mosey for Mensour. But\nthe latter and Salih knew not of this; and Mensour said to Yehya,\n'O my lord, I have laid hold upon thy skirt for I know not\nwhither to look for the money but to thee; so discharge thou the\nrest of my debt for me, in accordance with thy wonted generosity,\nand make me thy freed slave.' Thereupon Yehya bowed his head and\nwept; then he said to a page, 'Harkye, boy, the Commander of the\nFaithful gave our slave-girl Denanir a jewel of great price: go\nthou to her and bid her send it us.' The page went out and\npresently returned with the jewel, whereupon quoth Yehya, 'O\nMensour, I bought this jewel of the merchants for the Commander\nof the Faithful, for two hundred thousand diners, and he gave it\nto our slave-girl Denanir the lutanist. When he sees it with\nthee, he will know it and spare thy life and do thee honour for\nour sake; and now thy money is complete.'\n\nSo Salih took the money and the jewel and carried them to the\nKhalif, together with Mensour; but on the way? he heard the\nlatter repeat this verse, applying it to his own case:\n\nIt was not love, indeed, my feet to them that led; Nay, but\n     because the stroke of th' arrows I did dread.\n\nWhen Salih heard this, he marvelled at the baseness and\ningratitude of Mensour's nature, and turning upon him, said,\n'There is none on the face of the earth better than the\nBarmecides, nor any baser nor more depraved than thou; for they\nbought thee off from death and saved thee from destruction,\ngiving thee what should deliver thee; yet thou thankest them not\nnor praisest them, neither acquittest thee after the manner of\nthe noble; nay, thou requitest their benevolence with this\nspeech.' Then he went to Er Reshid and acquainted him with all\nthat had passed; and he marvelled at the generosity and\nbenevolence of Yehya ben Khalid and the baseness and ingratitude\nof Mensour and bade restore the jewel to Yehya, saying, 'That\nwhich we have given, it befits not that we take again.'\n\nSo Salih returned to Yehya, and acquainted him with Mensour's ill\nconduct; whereupon, 'O Salih,' replied he, 'when a man is in\ndistress, sick at heart and distracted with melancholy thought.\nhe is not to be blamed for aught that falls from him; for it\ncomes not from the heart.' And he fell to seeking excuse for\nMensour. But Salih wept [in telling the tale] and exclaimed,\n'Never shall the revolving sphere bring forth into being the like\nof thee, O Yehya! Alas, that one of such noble nature and\ngenerosity should be buried beneath the earth! 'And he repeated\nthe following verses:\n\nHasten to do the kindnesses thou hast a mind unto; For bounty is\n     not possible at every tide and hour.\nHow many a man denies his soul to do the generous deed, To which\n     it's fain, till lack of means deprive him of the power!\n\n\n\n\n\n            THE GENEROUS DEALING OF YEHYA BEN KHALID\n             WITH A MAN WHO FORGED A LETTER IN HIS\n                             NAME.\n\n\n\nThere was between Yehya ben Khalid and Abdallah ben Malik el\nKhuzai[FN#10] a secret enmity, the reason whereof was that Haroun\ner Reshid loved the latter with an exceeding love, so that Yehya\nand his sons were wont to say that he had bewitched the Khalif;\nand thus they abode a long while, with rancour in their hearts,\ntill it fell out that the Khalif invested Abdallah with the\ngovernment of Armenia and sent him thither. Soon after he had\nestablished himself in his seat of government, there came to him\none of the people of Irak, a man of excellent parts and good\nbreeding, who had lost his wealth and wasted his substance, and\nhis estate was come to nought; so he forged a letter to Abdallah\nin Yehya's name and set out therewith for Armenia. When he came\nto the governor's gate, he gave the letter to one of the\nchamberlains, who carried it to his master. Abdallah read it and\nconsidering it attentively, knew it to be forged; so he sent for\nthe man, who presented himself before him and called down\nblessings upon him and praised him and those of his court. Quoth\nAbdallah to him, 'What moved thee to weary thyself thus and bring\nme a forged letter? But be of good heart; for we will not\ndisappoint thy travail.' 'God prolong the life of our lord the\nVizier!' replied the other. 'If my coming irk thee, cast not\nabout for a pretext to repel me, for God's earth is wide and the\nDivine Provider liveth. Indeed, the letter I bring thee from\nYehya ben Khalid is true and no forgery.' Quoth Abdallah, 'I will\nwrite a letter to my agent at Baghdad and bid him enquire\nconcerning the letter. If it be true, as thou sayest, I will\nbestow on thee the government of one of my cities; or, if thou\nprefer a present, I will give thee two hundred thousand dirhems,\nbesides horses and camels of price and a robe of honour. But, if\nthe letter prove a forgery, I will have thee beaten with two\nhundred blows of a stick and thy beard shaven.'\n\nAccordingly, he bade confine him in a privy chamber and furnish\nhim therein with all he needed, till his case should be made\nmanifest. Then he despatched a letter to his agent at Baghdad, to\nthe following purport: 'There is come to me a man with a letter\npurporting to be from Yehya ben Khalid. Now I have my doubts of\nthis letter: so delay thou not, but go thyself and learn the\ntruth of the case and let me have an answer in all speed.' When\nthe letter reached the agent, he mounted at once and betook\nhimself to the house of Yehya ben Khalid, whom he found sitting\nwith his officers and boon-companions. So he gave him the letter\nand he read it and said to the agent, 'Come back to me to-morrow,\nagainst I write thee an answer.'\n\nWhen the agent had gone away, Yehya turned to his companions and\nsaid, 'What doth he deserve who forgeth a letter in my name and\ncarrieth it to my enemy?' They all answered, saying this and\nthat, each proposing some kind of punishment; but Yehya said, 'Ye\nerr in that ye say and this your counsel is of the meanness and\nbaseness of your spirits. Ye all know the close favour of\nAbdallah with the Khalif and what is between him and us of\ndespite and enmity; and now God the Most High hath made this man\nan intermediary, to effect a reconciliation between us, and hath\nappointed him to quench the fire of hate in our hearts, which\nhath been growing this score years; and by his means our\ndifferences shall be accorded. Wherefore it behoves me to requite\nhim by confirming his expectation and amending his estate; so I\nwill write him a letter to Abdallah, to the intent that he may\nuse him with increase of honour and liberality.'\n\nWhen his companions heard what he said, they called down\nblessings on him and marvelled at his generosity and the\ngreatness of his magnanimity. Then he called for paper and ink\nand wrote Abdallah a letter in his own hand, to the following\neffect: 'In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful! Thy\nletter hath reached me (may God give thee long life!) and I have\nread it and rejoice in thy health and well-being. It was thy\nthought that yonder worthy man had forged a letter in my name and\nthat he was not the bearer of any message from me; but the case\nis not so, for the letter I myself wrote, and it was no forgery;\nand I hope, of thy courtesy and benevolence and the nobility of\nthy nature, that thou wilt fulfil this generous and excellent man\nof his hope and wish and use him with the honour he deserves and\nbring him to his desire and make him the special object of thy\nfavour and munificence. Whatever thou dost with him, it is to me\nthat thou dost it, and I am beholden to thee accordingly.' Then\nhe superscribed the letter and sealing it, delivered it to the\nagent, who despatched it to Abdallah.\n\nWhen the latter read it, he was charmed with its contents and\nsending for the man, said to him, 'Now will I give thee which\nthou wilt of the two things I promised thee.' 'The gift were more\nacceptable to me than aught else,' replied the man; whereupon\nAbdallah ordered him two hundred thousand dirhems and ten Arab\nhorses, five with housings of silk and other five with richly\nornamented saddles of state, besides twenty chests of clothes and\nten mounted white slaves and a proportionate quantity of jewels\nof price. Moreover, he bestowed on him a dress of honour and sent\nhim to Baghdad in great state. When he came thither, he repaired\nto Yehya's house, before he went to his own folk, and sought an\naudience of him. So the chamberlain went in to Yehya and said to\nhim, 'O my lord, there is one at our door who craves speech of\nthee; and he is a man of apparent wealth and consideration,\ncomely of aspect and attended by many servants.' Yehya bade admit\nhim; so he entered and kissed the ground before him. 'Who art\nthou?' asked Yehya; and he answered, 'O my lord, I am one who was\ndead from the tyranny of fortune; but thou didst raise me again\nfrom the grave of calamities and preferredst me to the paradise\nof [my] desires. I am he who forged a letter in thy name and\ncarried it to Abdallah ben Malek el Khuzai.' 'How hath he dealt\nwith thee,' asked Yehya, 'and what did he give thee?' Quoth the\nman, 'He hath made me rich and overwhelmed me with presents and\nfavours, thanks to thee and thy great generosity and magnanimity\nand to thine exceeding goodness and abounding munificence and\nthine all-embracing liberality. And now, behold, I have brought\nall that he gave me, and it is at thy door; for it is thine to\ncommand, and the decision is in thy hand.' 'Thou hast done me\nbetter service than I thee,' rejoined Yehya; 'and I owe thee\nthanks without stint and abundant largesse, for that thou hast\nchanged the enmity that was between me and yonder man of worship\ninto love and friendship. Wherefore I will give thee the like of\nwhat Abdallah gave thee.' Then he ordered him money and horses\nand apparel, such as Abdallah had given him; and thus that man's\nfortune was restored to him by the munificence of these two\ngenerous men.\n\n\n\n\n\n              THE KHALIF EL MAMOUN AND THE STRANGE\n                             DOCTOR\n\n\n\nIt is said that there was none, among the Khalifs of the house of\nAbbas, more accomplished in all branches of knowledge than El\nMamoun. On two days in each week, he was wont to preside at\nconferences of the learned, when the doctors and theologians met\nand sitting, each in his several rank and room, disputed in his\npresence. One day, as he sat thus, there came into the assembly a\nstranger, clad in worn white clothes, and sat down in an obscure\nplace, behind the doctors of the law. Then the assembled scholars\nbegan to speak and expound difficult questions, it being the\ncustom that the various propositions should be submitted to each\nin turn and that whoso bethought him of some subtle addition or\nrare trait, should make mention of it. So the question went round\ntill it came to the stranger, who spoke in his turn and made a\ngoodlier answer than that of any of the doctors; and the Khalif\napproved his speech and bade advance him to a higher room. When\nthe second question came round to him, he made a still more\nadmirable answer, and the Khalif ordered him to be preferred to a\nyet higher place. When the third question reached him, he made\nanswer more justly and appropriately than on the two previous\noccasions, and El Mamoun bade him come up and sit near himself.\nWhen the conference broke up, water was brought and they washed\ntheir hands; after which food was set on and they ate. Then the\ndoctors arose and withdrew; but El Mamoun forbade the stranger to\ndepart with them and calling him to himself, entreated him with\nespecial favour and promised him honour and benefits.\n\nPresently, they made ready the banquet of wine; the fair-faced\nboon-companions came and the cup went round amongst them till it\ncame to the stranger, who rose to his feet and said, 'If the\nCommander of the Faithful permit me, I will say one word.' 'Say\nwhat thou wilt,' answered the Khalif. Quoth the stranger,\n'Verily, the Exalted Intelligence[FN#11] (whose eminence God\nincrease!) knoweth that his slave was this day, in the august\nassembly, one of the unknown folk and of the meanest of the\ncompany, and the Commander of the Faithful distinguished him and\nbrought him near to himself, little as was the wit he showed,\npreferring him above the rest and advancing him to a rank whereto\nhis thought aspired not: and now he is minded to deprive him of\nthat small portion of wit that raised him from obscurity and\naugmented him, after his littleness. God forfend that the\nCommander of the Faithful should envy his slave what little he\nhath of understanding and worth and renown! But, if his slave\nshould drink wine, his reason would depart from him and ignorance\ndraw near to him and steal away his good breeding; so would he\nrevert to that low degree, whence he sprang, and become\ncontemptible and ridiculous in the eyes of the folk. I hope,\ntherefore, that the August Intelligence, of his power and bounty\nand royal generosity and magnanimity, will not despoil his slave\nof this jewel.'\n\nWhen the Khalif heard his speech, he praised him and thanked him\nand making him sit down again in his place, showed him high\nhonour and ordered him a present of a hundred thousand diners.\nMoreover he mounted him upon a horse and gave him rich apparel;\nand in every assembly he exalted him and showed him favour over\nall the other doctors, till he became the highest of them all in\nrank.\n\n\n\n\n\n                     ALI SHAR AND ZUMURRUD.\n\n\n\nThere lived once, of old days, in the land of Khorassan, a\nmerchant called Mejdeddin, who had great wealth and many slaves\nand servants, black and white; but he was childless until he\nreached the age of threescore, when God the Most High vouchsafed\nhim a son, whom he named Ali Shar. The boy grew up like the moon\non the night of its full, and when he came to man's estate and\nwas endowed with all kinds of perfection, his father fell sick of\na mortal malady and calling his son to him, said to him, 'O my\nson, the hour of my death is at hand, and I desire to give thee\nmy last injunctions.' 'And what are they, O my father?' asked\nAli. 'O my son,' answered Mejdeddin, 'I charge thee, be not [too]\nfamiliar with any and eschew what leads to evil and mischief.\nBeware lest thou company with the wicked; for he is like the\nblacksmith; if his fire burn thee not, his smoke irks thee: and\nhow excellent is the saying of the poet:\n\nThere is no man in all the world whose love thou shouldst desire,\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\nAnd what another saith:\n\nMen are a latent malady; Count not on them, I counsel thee.\nAn if thou look into their case, They're full of guile and\n     perfidy.\n\nAnd yet a third:\n\nThe company of men will profit thee in nought, Except to pass\n     away the time in idle prate;\nSo spare thou to converse with them, except it be For gain of\n     lore and wit or mending of estate.\n\nAnd a fourth\n\nIf a quickwitted man have made proof of mankind, I have eaten of\n     them, where but tasted hath he,\nAnd have seen their affection but practice and nought But\n     hypocrisy found their religion to be.'\n\n'O my father,' said Ali, 'I hear and obey: what more shall I do?'\n'Do good when thou art able thereto,' answered his father; 'be\never courteous and succourable to men and profit by all occasions\nof doing a kindness; for a design is not always easy of\naccomplishment; and how well saith the poet:\n\n'Tis not at every time and season that to do Kind offices,\n     indeed, is easy unto you;\nSo, when the occasion serves, make haste to profit by't, Lest by\n     and by the power should fail thee thereunto.'\n\n'I hear and obey,' answered Ali; 'what more?' 'Be mindful of\nGod,' continued Mejdeddin, 'and He will be mindful of thee.\nHusband thy wealth and squander it not; for, if thou do, thou\nwilt come to have need of the least of mankind. Know that the\nmeasure of a man's worth is according to what his right hand\npossesses: and how well saith the poet:\n\nIf wealth should fail, there is no friend will bear me company,\n     But whilst my substance yet abounds, all men are friends to\n     me.\nHow many a foe for money's sake hath companied with me! How many\n     a friend for loss thereof hath turned mine enemy!'\n\n'What more?' asked Ali. 'O my son,' said Mejdeddin, 'take counsel\nof those who are older than thou and hasten not to do thy heart's\ndesire. Have compassion on those that are below thee, so shall\nthose that are above thee have compassion on thee; and oppress\nnone, lest God set over thee one who shall oppress thee. How well\nsaith the poet:\n\nAdd others' wit to thine and counsel still ensue; For that the\n     course of right is not concealed from two.\nOne mirror shows a man his face, but, if thereto Another one he\n     add, his nape thus can he view.\n\nAnd as saith another:\n\nBe slow to move and hasten not to match 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 opprest.\n\nAnd yet another:\n\nDo no oppression, whilst the power thereto is in thine hand; For\n     still in peril of revenge the sad oppressor goes.\nThine eyes will sleep anon, what while the opprest, on wake, call\n     down Curses upon thee, and God's eye shuts never in repose.\n\nBeware of drinking wine, for it is the root of all evil: it does\naway the reason and brings him who uses it into contempt; and how\nwell saith the poet:\n\nBy Allah, wine shall never invade me, whilst my soul Endureth in\n     my body and my thoughts my words control!\nNot a day long will I turn me to the zephyr-freshened bowl, And\n     for friend I'll choose him only who of wine-bibbing is\n     whole.\n\nThis, then,' added Mejdeddin, 'is my charge to thee; keep it\nbefore thine eyes, and may God stand to thee in my stead.' Then\nhe swooned away and kept silence awhile. When he came to himself,\nhe besought pardon of God and making the profession of the Faith,\nwas admitted to the mercy of the Most High. His son wept and\nlamented for him and made due preparation for his burial. Great\nand small attended him to the grave and the readers recited the\nKoran about his bier; nor did Ali Shar omit aught of what was due\nto the dead. Then they prayed over him and committed him to the\nearth, graving these words upon his tomb:\n\nCreated of the dust thou wast and cam'st to life And eloquence\n     didst learn and spokest many a word;\nThen to the dust again returnedst and wast dead, As 'twere from\n     out the dust, indeed, thou'dst never stirred.\n\nHis son Ali Shar grieved for him and mourned him after the wont\nof men of condition; nor did he cease therefrom till his mother\ndied also, not long afterward, when he did with her as he had\ndone with his father. Then he sat in the shop, selling and buying\nand consorting with none of God's creatures, in accordance with\nhis father's injunction.\n\nOn this wise he abode for a year, at the end of which time there\ncame in to him certain whoreson fellows by craft and companied\nwith him, till he turned with them to lewdness and swerved from\nthe right way, drinking wine in goblets and frequenting the fair\nnight and day; for he said in himself, 'My father amassed this\nwealth for me, and if I spend it not, to whom shall I leave it?\nBy Allah, I will not do save as saith the poet:\n\nIf all the days of thy life thou get And heap up treasure, to\n     swell thy hoard,\nWhen wilt thou use it and so enjoy That thou hast gathered and\n     gained and stored?'\n\nThen he ceased not to squander his wealth all tides of the day\nand watches of the night, till he had made away with it all and\nabode in evil case and troubled at heart. So he sold his shop and\nlands and so forth, and after this he sold the clothes off his\nbody, leaving himself but one suit. Then drunkenness left him and\nthought came to him, and he fell into melancholy.\n\nOne day, when he had sat from day-break to mid-afternoon without\nbreaking his fast, he said in himself, 'I will go round to those\non whom I spent my wealth: it may be one of them will feed me\nthis day.' So he went the round of them all; but, as often as he\nknocked at any one's door, the man denied himself and hid from\nhim, till he was consumed with hunger. Then he betook himself to\nthe bazaar, where he found a crowd of people, assembled in a ring\nround somewhat, and said in himself, 'I wonder what ails the folk\nto crowd together thus? By Allah, I will not remove hence, till I\nsee what is within yonder ring!' So he made his way into the ring\nand found that the crowd was caused by a damsel exposed for sale.\nShe was five feet high, slender of shape, rosy-cheeked and high-\nbosomed and surpassed all the people of her time in beauty and\ngrace and elegance and perfection; even as saith one, describing\nher:\n\nAs she wished, she was created, after such a wise that lo! She in\n     beauty's mould was fashioned, perfect, neither less no mo'.\nLoveliness itself enamoured of her lovely aspect is; Coyness\n     decks her and upon her, pride and pudour sweetly show.\nIn her face the full moon glitters and the branch is as her\n     shape; Musk her breath is, nor midst mortals is her equal,\n     high or low.\n'Tis as if she had been moulded out of water of pure pearls; In\n     each member of her beauty is a very moon, I trow.\n\nAnd her name was Zumurrud.\n\nWhen Ali Shar saw her, he marvelled at her beauty and grace and\nsaid, 'By Allah, I will not stir hence till I see what price this\ngirl fetches and know who buys her!' So he stood with the rest of\nthe merchants, and they thought he had a mind to buy her, knowing\nthe wealth he had inherited from his parents. Then the broker\nstood at the damsel's head and said, 'Ho, merchants! Ho, men of\nwealth! Who will open the biddings for this damsel, the mistress\nof moons, the splendid pearl, Zumurrud the Curtain-maker, the aim\nof the seeker and the delight of the desirous? Open the biddings,\nand on the opener be nor blame nor reproach.'\n\nSo one merchant said, 'I bid five hundred dinars for her.' 'And\nten,' said another. 'Six hundred,' cried an old man named\nReshideddin, blue-eyed and foul of face. 'And ten,' quoth\nanother. 'I bid a thousand,' rejoined Reshideddin; whereupon the\nother merchants were silent and the broker took counsel with the\ngirl's owner, who said, 'I have sworn not to sell her save to\nwhom she shall choose; consult her.' So the broker went up to\nZumurrud and said to her, 'O mistress of moons, yonder merchant\nhath a mind to buy thee.' She looked as Reshideddin and finding\nhim as we have said, replied, 'I will not be sold to a grey-\nbeard, whom decrepitude hath brought to evil plight.' 'Bravo,'\nquoth I, 'for one who saith:\n\nI asked her for a kiss one day, but she my hoary head Saw, though\n     of wealth and worldly good I had great plentihead;\nSo, with a proud and flouting air, her back she turned on me And,\n     \"No, by Him who fashioned men from nothingness!\" she said.\n\"Now, by God's truth, I never had a mind to hoary hairs, And\n     shall my mouth be stuffed, forsooth, with cotton, ere I'm\n     dead?\"\n\n'By Allah,' quoth the broker, 'thou art excusable, and thy value\nis ten thousand dinars!' So he told her owner that she would not\naccept of Reshideddin, and he said, 'Ask her of another.'\nThereupon another man came forward and said, 'I will take her at\nthe same price.' She looked at him and seeing that his beard was\ndyed, said, 'What is this lewd and shameful fashion and\nblackening of the face of hoariness?' And she made a great show\nof amazement and repeated the following verses:\n\nA sight, and what a sight, did such a one present To me! A neck,\n     to beat with shoes, by Allah, meant!\nAnd eke a beard for lie a coursing-ground that was And brows for\n     binding on of ropes all crook'd and bent.[FN#12]\nThou that my cheeks and shape have ravished, with a lie Thou dost\n     disguise thyself and reck'st not, impudent;\nDyeing thy hoary hairs disgracefully with black[FN#13] And hiding\n     what appears, with fraudulent intent;\nAs of the puppet-men thou wert, with one beard go'st And with\n     another com'st again, incontinent.\n\nAnd how well saith another:\n\nQuoth she to me, \"I see thou dy'st thy hoariness;\" and I, \"I do\n     but hide it from thy sight, O thou my ear and eye!\"[FN#14]\nShe laughed out mockingly and said, \"A wonder 'tis indeed! Thou\n     so aboundest in deceit that even thy hair's a lie.\"\n\n'By Allah,' quoth the broker, 'thou hast spoken truly!' The\nmerchant asked what she said: so the broker repeated the verses\nto him, and he knew that she was in the right and desisted from\nbuying her. Then another came forward and would have bought her\nat the same price; but she looked at him and seeing that he had\nbut one eye, said, 'This man is one-eyed; and it is of such as he\nthat the poet saith:\n\nConsort not with him that is one-eyed a day, And be on thy guard\n     'gainst his mischief and lies:\nFor God, if in him aught of good had been found, Had not curst\n     him with blindness in one of his eyes.'\n\nThen the broker brought her another bidder and said to her, 'Wilt\nthou be sold to this man?' She looked at him and seeing that he\nwas short of stature and had a beard that reached to his navel,\nsaid, 'This is he of whom the poet speaks, when he says:\n\nI have a friend, who has a beard, that God Caused flourish\n     without profit, till, behold.\n'Tis, as it were, to look upon, a night Of middle winter, long\n     and dark and cold.'\n\n'O my lady,' said the broker, 'look who pleases thee of these\nthat are present, and point him out, that I may sell thee to\nhim.' So she looked round the ring of merchants, examining them\none by one, till her eyes rested on Ali Shar. His sight cost her\na thousand sighs and her heart was taken with him: for that he\nwas passing fair of favour and more pleasant than the northern\nzephyr; and she said, 'O broker, I will be sold to none but my\nlord there, he of the handsome face and slender shape, whom the\npoet describes in the following verses:\n\nThey showed thy lovely face and railed At her whom ravishment\n     assailed.\nHad they desired to keep me chaste, Thy face so fair they should\n     have veiled.\n\nNone shall possess me but he,' added she; 'for his cheek is\nsmooth and the water of his mouth sweet as Selsebil;[FN#15] his\nsight is a cure for the sick and his charms confound poet and\nproser, even as saith one of him:\n\nThe water of his mouth is wine, and very musk The fragrance of\n     his breath; his teeth are camphor white.\nRizwan hath put him our from paradise, for fear The black-eyed\n     girls of heaven be tempted with the wight.\nMen blame him for his pride; but the full moon's excuse, How\n     proud so'er it be, finds favour in our sight.\n\nHim of the curling locks and rose-red cheeks and enchanting\nglances, of whom saith the poet:\n\nA slender loveling promised me his favours fair and free; So my\n     heart's restless and my eye looks still his sight to see.\nHis eyelids warranted me the keeping of his troth; But how shall\n     they, that bankrupt[FN#16] are, fulfil their warranty?\n\nAnd as saith another:\n\n\"The script of whiskers on his cheek,\" quoth they, \"is plain to\n     see: How canst thou then enamoured be of him, and whiskered\n     he?\"\nQuoth I, \"Have done with blame and leave your censuring, I pray.\n     As if it be a very script, it is a forgery.\nLo, in the gathering of his cheeks the meads of Eden be, And more\n     by token that his lips are Kauther,[FN#17], verily.\"\n\nWhen the broker heard the verses she repeated on the charms of\nAli Shar, he marvelled at her eloquence, no less than at the\nbrightness of her beauty; but her owner said to him, 'Marvel not\nat her beauty, that shames the sun of day, nor that her mind is\nstored with the choicest verses of the poets; for, besides this,\nshe can repeat the glorious Koran, according to the seven\nreadings, and the august Traditions, after the authentic text;\nand she writes the seven hands and is versed in more branches of\nknowledge than the most learned doctor. Moreover, her hands are\nbetter than gold and silver; for she makes curtains of silk and\nsells them for fifty dinars each; and it takes her eight days to\nmake a curtain.' 'Happy the man,' exclaimed the broker, 'who hath\nher in his house and maketh her of his privy treasures!' And her\nowner said, 'Sell her to whom she will.' So the broker went up to\nAli Shar and kissing his hands, said to him, 'O my lord, buy thou\nthis damsel, for she hath made choice of thee.' Then he set forth\nto him all her charms and accomplishments, and added: 'I give\nthee joy, if thou buy her, for she is a gift from Him who is no\nniggard of His giving.'\n\nAli bowed his head awhile, laughing to himself and saying\ninwardly, 'Up to now I have not broken my fast; yet I am ashamed\nto own before the merchants that I have no money wherewith to buy\nher.' The damsel, seeing him hang down his head, said to the\nbroker, 'Take my hand and lead me to him, that I may show myself\nto him and tempt him to buy me; for I will not be sold to any but\nhim.' So the broker took her hand and stationed her before Ali\nShar, saying, 'What is thy pleasure, O my lord?' But he made him\nno answer, and the girl said to him, 'O my lord and darling of my\nheart, what ails thee that thou wilt not bid for me? Buy me for\nwhat thou wilt, and I will bring thee good fortune.' Ali raised\nhis eyes to her and said, 'Must I buy thee perforce? Thou art\ndear at one thousand dinars.' 'Then buy me for nine hundred,'\nanswered she. 'Nay,' rejoined he; and she said, 'Then for eight\nhundred;' and ceased not to abate the price, till she came to a\nhundred dinars. Quoth he, 'I have not quite a hundred dinars.'\n'How much dost thou lack of a hundred?' asked she, laughing. 'By\nAllah,' replied he, 'I have neither a hundred dinars, nor any\nother sum; for I own neither white money nor red, neither dinar\nnor dirhem. So look out for another customer.' When she knew that\nhe had nothing, she said to him, 'Take me by the hand and carry\nme aside into a passage, as if thou wouldst examine me privily.'\nHe did so and she took from her bosom a purse containing a\nthousand dinars, which she gave him saying, 'Pay down nine\nhundred to my price and keep the rest to provide us withal.'\n\nHe did as she bade him and buying her for nine hundred dinars,\npaid down the price from the purse and carried her to his house,\nwhich when she entered, she found nothing but bare floors,\nwithout carpets or vessels. So she gave him other thousand\ndinars, saying, 'Go to the bazaar and buy three hundred dinars'\nworth of furniture and vessels for the house and three dinars'\nworth of meat and drink, also a piece of silk, the size of a\ncurtain, and gold and silver thread and [sewing] silk of seven\ncolours.' He did her bidding, and she furnished the house and\nthey sat down to eat and drink; after which they went to bed and\ntook their pleasure, one of the other. And they lay the night\nembraced and were even as saith 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, whilst I slept, in dreams I saw thee lying by my side And\n     from thy lips the sweetest, sure, of limpid springs did\n     drain.\nYea, true and certain all I saw is, as I will avouch, And 'spite\n     the envier, thereto I surely will attain.\nThere is no goodlier sight, indeed, for eyes to look upon, Than\n     when one couch in its embrace enfoldeth lovers twain,\nEach to the other's bosom clasped, clad in their twinned 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 who chide at them in vain.\nThou, that for loving censurest the votaries of love, Canst thou\n     assain a heart diseased or heal a cankered brain?\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\nThey lay together till the morning and love for the other was\nstablished in the heart of each of them. On the morrow, Zumurrud\ntook the curtain and embroidered it with coloured silks and gold\nand silver thread, depicting thereon all manner birds and beasts;\nnor is there in the world a beast but she wrought on the curtain\nthe semblant thereof. Moreover, she made thereto a band, with\nfigures of birds, and wrought at it eight days, till she had made\nan end of it, when she trimmed it and ironed it and gave it to\nAli, saying, 'Carry it to the bazaar and sell it to one of the\nmerchants for fifty dinars; but beware lest thou sell it to a\npasser-by, for this would bring about a separation between us,\nbecause we have enemies who are not unmindful of us.' 'I hear and\nobey,' answered he and repairing to the bazaar, sold the curtain\nto a merchant, as she bade him; after which he bought stuff for\nanother curtain and silk and gold and silver thread as before and\nwhat they needed of food, and brought all this to her, together\nwith the rest of the money.\n\nThey abode thus a whole year, and every eight days she made a\ncurtain, which he sold for fifty dinars. At the end of the year,\nhe went to the bazaar, as usual, with a curtain, which he gave to\nthe broker; and there came up to him a Christian, who bid him\nthreescore dinars for the curtain; but he refused, and the\nChristian went on to bid higher and higher, till he came to a\nhundred dinars and bribed the broker with ten gold pieces. So the\nlatter returned to Ali and told him of this and urged him to\naccept the offer, saying, 'O my lord, be not afraid of this\nChristian, for he can do thee no hurt.' The merchants also were\ninstant with him to accept the offer; so he sold the curtain to\nthe Christian, though his heart misgave him, and taking the\nprice, set off to return home.\n\nPresently, he found the Christian walking behind him; so he said\nto him, 'O Nazarene, why dost thou follow me?' 'O my lord,'\nanswered the other, 'I have a need at the end of the street, may\nGod never bring thee to need!' Ali went on, but, as he came to\nthe door of his house, the Christian overtook him; so he said to\nhim, 'O accursed one, what ails thee to follow me wherever I go?'\n'O my lord,' replied the other, 'give me a draught of water, for\nI am athirst; and with God the Most High be thy reward!' Quoth\nAli in himself, 'Verily, this man is a tributary [of the\nKhalifate] and seeks a draught of water of me; by Allah, I will\nnot disappoint him!' So he entered the house and took a mug of\nwater; but Zumurrud saw him and said to him, 'O my love, hast\nthou sold the curtain?' 'Yes,' answered he. 'To a merchant or a\npasser-by?' asked she. 'For my heart forethinketh me of\nseparation.' 'To a merchant, of course,' replied he. But she\nrejoined, 'Tell me the truth of the case, that I may order my\naffair; and what wantest thou with the mug of water?' 'To give\nthe broker a drink,' answered he; whereupon she exclaimed, 'There\nis no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme!'\nAnd repeated the following verses:\n\nO thou that seekest parting, stay thy feet: Let clips and kisses\n     not delude thy spright.\nSoftly, for fortune's nature is deceit And parting is the end of\n     love-delight.\n\nThen he took the mug and going out, found the Christian within\nthe vestibule and said to him, 'O dog, how darest thou enter my\nhouse without my leave?' 'O my lord,' answered he, 'there is no\ndifference between the door and the vestibule and I will not\nbudge hence, save to go out; and I am beholden to thee for thy\nkindness.' Then he took the mug and emptying it, returned it to\nAli, who took it and waited for him to go; but he did not move.\nSo Ali said to him, 'Why dost thou not rise and go thy way?' 'O\nmy lord,' answered the Christian, 'be not of those that do a\nkindness and after make a reproach of it, nor one of whom saith\nthe poet:\n\nGone, gone are they who, if thou stoodst before their door of\n     old, Had, at thy seeking, handselled thee with benefits\n     untold!\nAnd if thou stoodest at their door who follow after them, These\n     latter would begrudge to thee a draught of water cold.\n\nO my lord,' continued he, 'I have drunk, and now I would have\nthee give me to eat of whatever is in the house, though it be but\na crust of bread or a biscuit and an onion.' 'Begone, without\nmore talk,' replied Ali; 'There is nothing in the house.' 'O my\nlord,' insisted the Christian, 'if there be nothing in the house,\ntake these hundred dinars and fetch us somewhat from the market,\nif but a cake of bread, that bread and salt may pass between us.'\nWith this, quoth Ali to himself, 'This Christian is surely mad; I\nwill take the hundred dinars and bring somewhat worth a couple of\ndirhems and laugh at him.' 'O my lord,' added the Christian, 'I\nwant but somewhat to stay my hunger, were it but a cake of dry\nbread and an onion; for the best food is that which does away\nhunger, not rich meats; and how well saith the poet:\n\nA cake of dry stale bread will hunger out to flight: Why then are\n     grief and care so heavy on my spright?\nDeath is, indeed, most just, since, with an equal hand, Khalif\n     and beggar-wretch, impartial, it doth smite.'\n\nThen said Ali, 'Wait here, whilst I lock the saloon and fetch\nthee somewhat from the market.' 'I hear and obey,' said the\nChristian. So Ali shut up the saloon and locking the door with a\npadlock, put the key in his pocket: after which he repaired to\nthe market and bought fried cheese and virgin honey and bananas\nand bread, with which he returned to the Christian. When the\nlatter saw this, he said, 'O my lord, this is [too] much; thou\nhast brought enough for half a score men and I am alone; but\nbelike thou wilt eat with me.' 'Eat by thyself,' replied Ali; 'I\nam full.' 'O my lord,' rejoined the Christian, 'the wise say, \"He\nwho eats not with his guest is a base-born churl.\"'\n\nWhen Ali heard this, he sat down and ate a little with him, after\nwhich he would have held his hand: but [whilst he was not\nlooking] the Christian took a banana and peeled it, then,\nsplitting it in twain, put into one half concentrated henbane,\nmixed with opium, a drachm whereof would overthrow an elephant.\nThis half he dipped in the honey and gave to Ali Shar, saying, 'O\nmy lord, I swear by thy religion that thou shalt take this.' Ali\nwas ashamed to make him forsworn; so he took the half banana and\nswallowed it; but hardly had it reached his stomach, when his\nhead fell down in front of his feet and he was as though he had\nbeen a year asleep.\n\nWhen the Nazarene saw this, he rose, as he had been a bald wolf\nor a baited cat, and taking the saloon key, made off at a run,\nleaving Ali Shar prostrate. Now this Christian was the brother of\nthe decrepit old man who thought to buy Zumurrud for a thousand\ndinars, but she would have none of him and flouted him in verse.\nHe was an infidel at heart, though a Muslim in outward show, and\ncalled himself Reshideddin;[FN#18] and when Zumurrud mocked him\nand would not accept of him to her lord, he complained to his\nbrother, the aforesaid Christian, Bersoum by name, who said to\nhim, 'Fret not thyself about this affair; for I will make shift\nto get her for thee, without paying a penny.'\n\nNow he was a skilful sorcerer crafty and wicked; so he watched\nhis time and played Ali Shar the trick aforesaid; then, taking\nthe key, he went to his brother and told him what had passed,\nwhereupon Reshideddin mounted his mule and repaired with his\nservants to Ali Shar's house, taking with him a purse of a\nthousand dinars, wherewith to bribe the master of police, should\nhe meet him. He unlocked the saloon door, and the men who were\nwith him rushed in upon Zumurrud and seized her, threatening her\nwith death if she spoke; but they left the house as it was and\ntook nothing therefrom. Moreover, they laid the key by Ali's side\nand leaving him lying in the vestibule, shut the door on him and\nwent away. The Christian carried the girl to his own house and\nsetting her amongst his women and concubines, said to her, 'O\nstrumpet, I am the old man, whom thou did reject and lampoon; but\nnow I have thee, without paying a penny.' 'God requite thee, O\nwicked old man,' replied she, with her eyes full of tears, 'for\nsundering my lord and me!' 'Wanton doxy that thou art,' rejoined\nhe,' thou shalt see how I will punish thee! By the virtue of the\nMessiah and the Virgin, except thou obey me and embrace my faith,\nI will torture thee with all manner of torture!' 'By Allah,'\nanswered she, 'though thou cut me in pieces, I will not forswear\nthe faith of Islam! It may be God the Most High will bring me\nspeedy relief, for He is all-powerful, and the wise say, \"Better\nhurt in body than in religion.\"'\n\nThereupon the old man called out to his eunuchs and women,\nsaying, 'Throw her down!' So they threw her down and he beat her\ngrievously, whilst she cried in vain for help, but presently\nstinted and fell to saying, 'God is my sufficiency, and He is\nindeed sufficient!' till her breath failed her and she swooned\naway. When he had taken his fill of beating her, he said to the\neunuchs, 'Drag her forth by the feet and cast her down in the\nkitchen, and give her nothing to eat.' They did his bidding, and\non the morrow the accursed old man sent for her and beat her\nagain, after which he bade return her to her place. When the pain\nof the blows had subsided, she said, 'There is no god but God and\nMohammed is His Apostle! God is my sufficiency and excellent is\nHe in whom I put my trust!' And she called upon our lord Mohammed\n(whom God bless and preserve) for succour.\n\nMeanwhile, Ali Shar slept on till next day, when the fumes of the\nhenbane quitted his brain and he awoke and cried out, 'O\nZumurrud!' But none answered him. So he entered the saloon and\nfound 'the air empty and the place of visitation distant;'[FN#19]\nwhereby he knew that it was the Nazarene, who had played him this\ntrick. And he wept and groaned and lamented and repeated the\nfollowing verses:\n\nO Fate, thou sparest not nor dost desist from me: Lo, for my soul\n     is racked with dolour and despite!\nHave pity, O my lords, upon a slave laid low, Upon the rich made\n     poor by love and its unright.\nWhat boots the archer's skill, if, when the foe draw near, His\n     bowstring snap and leave him helpless in the fight?\nAnd when afflictions press and multiply on man, Ah, whither then\n     shall he from destiny take flight?\nHow straitly did I guard 'gainst severance of our loves! But,\n     when as Fate descends, it blinds the keenest sight.\n\nThen he sobbed and repeated these verses also:\n\nHer traces on the encampment's sands a robe of grace bestow: The\n     mourner yearneth to the place where she dwelt whiles ago.\nTowards her native land she turns; a camp in her doth raise\n     Longing, whose very ruins now are scattered to and fro.\nShe stops and questions of the place; but with the case's tongue\n     It answers her, \"There is no way to union, I trow.\n'Tis as the lost a Levin were, that glittered on the camp Awhile,\n     then vanished and to thee appeareth nevermo'.\"\n\nAnd he repented, whenas repentance availed him not, and wept and\ntore his clothes. Then he took two stones and went round the\ncity, beating his breast with the stones and crying out, 'O\nZumurrud!' whilst the children flocked round him, calling out, 'A\nmadman! A madman!' and all who knew him wept for him, saying,\n'Yonder is such an one: what hath befallen him?' This he did all\nthat day, and when night darkened on him, he lay down in one of\nthe by-streets and slept till morning. On the morrow, he went\nround about the city with the stones till eventide, when he\nreturned to his house, to pass the night. One of his neighbours,\na worthy old woman, saw him and said to him, 'God keep thee, O my\nson! How long hast thou been mad?' And he answered her with the\nfollowing verse:\n\nQuoth they, \"Thou'rt surely mad for her thou lov'st;\" and I\n     replied, \"Indeed the sweets of life belong unto the raving\n     race.\nMy madness leave and bring me her for whom ye say I'm mad; And if\n     she heal my madness, spare to blame me for my case.\"\n\nTherewith she knew him for a lover who had lost his mistress and\nsaid, 'There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High,\nthe Supreme! O my son, I would have thee acquaint me with the\nparticulars of thine affliction. Peradventure God may enable me\nto help thee against it, if it so please Him.' So he told her all\nthat had happened and she said, 'O my son, indeed thou hast\nexcuse.' And her eyes ran over with tears and she repeated the\nfollowing verses:\n\nTorment, indeed, in this our world, true lovers do aby; Hell\n     shall not torture them, by God, whenas they come to die!\nOf love they died and to the past their passions chastely hid; So\n     are they martyrs, as, indeed, traditions[FN#20] testify.\n\nThen she said, 'O my son, go now and buy me a basket, such as the\njewel-hawkers carry, and stock it with rings and bracelets and\near-rings and other women's gear, and spare not money. Bring all\nthis to me and I will set it on my head and go round about, in\nthe guise of a huckstress, and make search for her in all the\nhouses, till I light on news of her, if it be the will of God the\nMost High.' Ali rejoiced in her words and kissed her hands, then,\ngoing out, speedily returned with all she required; whereupon she\nrose and donning a patched gown and a yellow veil, took a staff\nin her hand and set out, with the basket on her head.\n\nShe ceased not to go from quarter to quarter and street to street\nand house to house, till God the Most High led her to the house\nof the accursed Reshideddin the Nazarene. She heard groans within\nand knocked at the door, whereupon a slave-girl came down and\nopening the door to her, saluted her. Quoth the old woman, 'I\nhave these trifles for sale: is there any one with you who will\nbuy aught of them?' 'Yes,' answered the girl and carrying her\nindoors, made her sit down; whereupon all the women came round\nher and each bought something of her. She spoke to them fair and\nwas easy with them as to price, so that they rejoiced in her,\nbecause of her pleasant speech and easiness. Meanwhile, she\nlooked about to see who it was she had heard groaning, till her\neyes fell on Zumurrud, when she knew her and saw that she was\nlaid prostrate. So she wept and said to the girls, 'O my\nchildren, how comes yonder damsel in this plight?' And they told\nher what had passed, adding, 'Indeed, the thing is not of our\nchoice; but our master commanded us to do this, and he is now\nabsent on a journey.' 'O my children,' said the old woman, 'I\nhave a request to make of you, and it is that you loose this\nunhappy woman of her bonds, till you know of your lord's return,\nwhen do ye bind her again as she was; and you shall earn a reward\nfrom the Lord of all creatures.' 'We hear and obey,' answered\nthey and loosing Zumurrud, gave her to eat and drink.\n\nThen said the old woman, 'Would my leg had been broken, ere I\nentered your house!' And she went up to Zumurrud and said to her,\n'O my daughter, take heart; God will surely bring thee relief.'\nThen she told her [privily] that she came from her lord Ali Shar\nand appointed her to be on the watch that night, saying, 'Thy\nlord will come to the bench under the gallery and whistle to\nthee; and when thou hearest him, do thou whistle back to him and\nlet thyself down to him by a rope from the window, and he will\ntake thee and go away.' Zumurrud thanked the old woman, and the\nlatter returned to Ali Shar and told him what she had done,\nsaying, 'Go to-night, at midnight, to such a quarter,--for the\naccursed fellow's house is there and its fashion is thus and\nthus. Stand under the window of the upper chamber and whistle;\nwhereupon she will let herself down to thee; then do thou take\nher and carry her whither thou wilt.' He thanked her for her good\noffices and repeated the following verses, with the tears running\ndown his cheeks:\n\nLet censors cease to rail and chide and leave their idle prate:\n     My body's wasted and my heart weary and desolate;\nAnd from desertion and distress my tears, by many a chain Of true\n     traditions handed down, do trace their lineage straight.\nThou that art whole of heart and free from that which I endure Of\n     grief and care, cut short thy strife nor question of my\n     state.\nA sweet-lipped maiden, soft of sides and moulded well of shape,\n     With her soft speech my heart hath ta'en, ay, and her\n     graceful gait.\nMy heart, since thou art gone, no rest knows nor my eyes do\n     sleep, Nor can the hunger of my hopes itself with patience\n     sate.\nYea, thou hast left me sorrowful, the hostage of desire, 'Twixt\n     enviers and haters dazed and all disconsolate.\nAs for forgetting, 'tis a thing I know not nor will know; For\n     none but thou into my thought shalt enter, soon or late.\n\nThen he sighed and shed tears and repeated these also:\n\nMay God be good to him who brought me news that ye were come! For\n     never more delightful news unto my ears was borne.\nIf he would take a worn-out wede for boon, I'd proffer him A\n     heart that at the parting hour was all in pieces torn.\n\nHe waited until the appointed time, then went to the street,\nwhere was the Christian's house, and recognizing it from the old\nwoman's description, sat down on the bench under the gallery.\nPresently, drowsiness overcame him, for it was long since he had\nslept, for the violence of his passion, and he became as one\ndrunken with sleep. Glory be to Him who sleepeth not!\n\nMeanwhile, chance led thither a certain thief, who had come out\nthat night to steal somewhat and prowled about the skirts of the\ncity, till he happened on Reshideddin's house. He went round\nabout it, but found no way of climbing up into it and presently\ncame to the bench, where he found Ali Shar asleep and took his\nturban. At that moment, Zumurrud looked out and seeing the thief\nstanding in the darkness, took him for her lord; so she whistled\nto him and he whistled back to her; whereupon she let herself\ndown to him, with a pair of saddle-bags full of gold. When the\nrobber saw this, he said to himself, 'This is a strange thing,\nand there must needs be some extraordinary cause to it.' Then,\nsnatching up the saddle-bags, he took Zumurrud on his shoulders\nand made off with both like the blinding lightning.\n\nQuoth she, 'The old woman told me that thou wast weak with\nillness on my account; and behold, thou art stronger than a\nhorse.' He made her no reply; so she put her hand to his face and\nfelt a beard like a bath-broom,[FN#21] as he were a hog that had\nswallowed feathers and they had come out at his gullet; whereat\nshe took fright and said to him, 'What art thou?' 'O strumpet,'\nanswered he, 'I am the sharper Jewan the Kurd, of the band of\nAhmed ed Denef; we are forty sharpers, who will all tilt at thy\ntail this night, from dusk to dawn.' When she heard his words,\nshe wept and buffeted her face, knowing that Fate had gotten the\nbetter of her and that there was nothing for it but to put her\ntrust in God the Most High. So she took patience and submitted\nherself to the ordinance of God, saying, 'There is no god but\nGod! As often as we escape from one trouble, we fall into a\nworse.'\n\nNow the manner of Jewan's coming thither was thus: he had said to\nAhmed ed Denef, 'O captain, I have been here before and know a\ncavern without the town, that will hold forty souls; so I will go\nbefore you thither and set my mother therein. Then will I enter\nthe city and steal somewhat on your account and keep it till you\ncome; so shall you be my guests this day.' 'Do what thou wilt,'\nreplied Ahmed. So Jewan forewent them to the cavern and left his\nmother there; but, as he came out, he found a trooper lying\nasleep, with his horse tethered beside him; so he slew him and\ntaking his clothes and arms, hid them with his mother in the\ncave, where also he tied up the horse. Then he betook himself to\nthe city and prowled about, till he happened on the Christian's\nhouse and did with Ali Shar and Zumurrud as we have said. He\nceased not to run, with Zumurrud on his back, till he came to the\ncavern, where he gave her in charge of his mother, saying, 'Keep\nwatch over her till I come back to thee at point of day,' and\nwent away.\n\nMeanwhile Zumurrud said to herself, 'Now is the time to cast\nabout for a means of escape. If I wait till these forty men come,\nthey will take their turns at me, till they make me like a water-\nlogged ship.' Then she turned to the old woman and said to her,\n'O my aunt, wilt thou not come without the cave, that I may louse\nthee in the sun?' 'Ay, by Allah, O my daughter!' replied the old\nwoman. 'This long time have I been out of reach of the bath; for\nthese hogs cease not to hale me from place to place.' So they\nwent without the cavern, and Zumurrud combed out the old woman's\nhair and killed the vermin in her head, till this soothed her and\nshe fell asleep; whereupon Zumurrud arose and donning the clothes\nof the murdered trooper, girt herself with his sword and covered\nher head with his turban, so that she became as she were a man.\nThen she took the saddle-bags full of gold and mounted the horse,\nsaying in herself, 'O kind Protector, I adjure thee by the glory\nof Mohammed, (whom God bless and preserve,) protect me! If I\nenter the city, belike one of the trooper's folk will see me, and\nno good will befall me.' So she turned her back on the city and\nrode forth into the desert.\n\nShe fared on ten days, eating of the fruits of the earth and\ndrinking of its waters, she and her horse; and on the eleventh\nday, she came in sight of a pleasant and safe city, stablished in\ngood; the season of winter had departed from it with its cold and\nthe spring-tide came to it with its roses and orange-blossoms;\nits flowers blew bright, its streams welled forth and its birds\nwarbled. As she drew near, she saw the troops and Amirs and\nnotables of the place drawn up before the gate, at which she\nmarvelled and said to herself, 'The people of the city are all\ncollected at the gate: there must needs be a reason for this.'\nThen she made towards them; but, as she drew near, the troops\nhastened forward to meet her and dismounting, kissed the ground\nbefore her and said, 'God aid thee, O our lord the Sultan!'\n\nThen the grandees ranked themselves before her, whilst the troops\nranged the people in order, saying, 'God aid thee and make thy\ncoming a blessing to the Muslims, O Sultan of all men! God\nstablish thee, O king of the age and pearl of the day and the\ntime!' 'What ails you, O people of the city?' asked Zumurrud; and\nthe chamberlain answered, 'Verily, He who is no niggard in giving\nhath been bountiful to thee and hath made thee Sultan of this\ncity and ruler over the necks of all that are therein; for know\nthat it is the custom of the citizens, when their king dies,\nleaving no son, that the troops should sally forth of the pace\nand abide there three days; and whoever cometh from the quarter\nwhence thou hast come, they make him king over them. So praised\nbe God who hath sent us a well-favoured man of the sons of the\nTurks; for had a lesser than thou presented himself, he had been\nSultan.'\n\nNow Zumurrud was well-advised in all she did; so she said, 'Think\nnot that I am of the common folk of the Turks; nay, I am a man of\ncondition; but I was wroth with my family, so I went forth and\nleft them. See these saddle-bags full of gold I brought with me,\nthat I might give alms thereof to the poor and needy by the way.'\nSo they called down blessings upon her and rejoiced in her with\nan exceeding joy and she also rejoiced in them and said in\nherself, 'Now that I have attained to this estate, it may be God\nwill reunite me with my lord in this place, for He can do what He\nwill.' Then the troops escorted her to the city and dismounting,\nwalked before her to the palace. Here she alighted and the Amirs\nand grandees, taking her under the armpits, carried her into the\npalace and seated her on the throne; after which they all kissed\nthe ground before her. Then she bade open the treasuries and gave\nlargesse to the troops, who offered up prayers for the continuance\nof her reign, and all the townsfolk and the people of the kingdom\naccepted her rule.\n\nShe abode thus awhile, ordering and forbidding, and remitted\ntaxes and released prisoners and redressed grievances, so that\nall the people came to hold her in exceeding reverence and to\nlove her, by reason of her generosity and continence; but, as\noften as she bethought her of her lord, she wept and besought God\nto reunite them; and one night, as she was thinking of him and\ncalling to mind the days she had passed with him, her eyes ran\nover with tears and she repeated the following verses:\n\nMy longing, 'spite of time, for thee is ever new; My weeping\n     wounds my lids and tears on tears ensue.\nWhenas I weep, I weep for anguish of desire; For grievous\n     severance is a lover's heart unto.\n\nThen she wiped away her tears and rising, betook herself to the\nharem, where she appointed to the slave-girls and concubines\nseparate lodgings and assigned them pensions and allowances,\ngiving out that she was minded to live apart and devote herself\nto works of piety. So she betook herself to fasting and praying,\ntill the Amirs said, 'Verily, this Sultan is exceeding devout.'\nNor would she suffer any attendants about her, save two little\neunuchs, to serve her.\n\nShe held the throne thus a whole year, during which time she\nheard no news of Ali Shar, and this was exceeding grievous to\nher; so, when her distress became excessive, she summoned her\nViziers and chamberlains and bid them fetch architects and\nbuilders and make her a tilting ground, a parasang long and the\nlike broad, in front of the palace. They hastened to do her\nbidding, and when the place was competed to her liking, she went\ndown into it and they pitched her there a great pavilion, wherein\nthe chairs of the Amirs were set in their order. Then she bade\nspread in the tilting-ground tables with all manner rich meats\nand ordered the grandees to eat. So they ate and she said to\nthem, 'It is my will that, on the first day of each month, ye do\non this wise and proclaim in the city that none shall open his\nshop, but that all the people shall come and eat of the king's\nbanquet, and that whoso disobeyeth shall be hanged over his own\ndoor.'\n\nThey did as she bade them, and when came the first day of the\nnext month, Zumurrud went down into the tilting-ground and the\ncrier proclaimed aloud, saying, 'Ho, all ye people, great and\nsmall, whoso openeth shop or house or magazine shall straightway\nbe hanged over his own door; for it behoves you all to come and\neat of the king's banquet.' Then they laid the tables and the\npeople came in troops; so she bade them sit down at the tables\nand eat their fill of all the dishes. So they sat down and she\nsat on her chair of estate, watching them, whilst each thought\nshe was looking at none but him. Then they fell to eating and the\nAmirs said to them, 'Eat and be not ashamed; for this is pleasing\nto the King.' So they ate their fill and went away, blessing the\nKing and saying, one to the other, 'Never saw we a Sultan that\nloved the poor as doth this Sultan.' And they wished her length\nof life, whilst Zumurrud returned to the palace, rejoicing in her\ndevice and saying in herself, 'If it please God the Most High, I\nshall surely by this means happen on news of my lord Ali Shar.'\n\nWhen the first day of the second month came round, she made the\nbanquet as before and the folk came and sat down at the tables,\ncompany by company and one by one. As she sat on her throne, at\nthe head of the tables, watching the people eat, her eye fell on\nBersoum, the Nazarene who had bought the curtain of Ali Shar; and\nshe knew him and said in herself, 'This is the first of my solace\nand of the accomplishment of my desire.' Bersoum came up to the\ntable and sitting down with the rest to eat, espied a dish of\nsweet rice, sprinkled with sugar; but it was far from him. So he\npushed up to it and putting out his hand to it, took it and set\nit before himself. His next neighbour said to him, 'Why dost thou\nnot eat of what is before thee? Art thou not ashamed to reach\nover for a dish that is distant from thee?' Quoth Bersoum, 'I\nwill eat of none but this dish.' 'Eat then,' rejoined the other,\n'and small good may it do thee!' But another man, a hashish-\neater, said, 'Let him eat of it, that I may eat with him.' 'O\nunluckiest of hashish-eaters,' replied the first speaker, 'this\nis no meat for thee; it is eating for Amirs. Let it be, that it\nmay return to those for whom it is meant and they eat it.'\n\nBut Bersoum heeded him not and putting his hand to the rice, took\na mouthful and put it in his mouth. He was about to take a second\nmouthful, when Zumurrud, who was watching him, cried out to\ncertain of her guards, saying, 'Bring me yonder man with the dish\nof sweet rice before him and let him not eat the mouthful he hath\nready, but throw it from his hand.' So four of the guards went up\nto Bersoum and throwing the mouthful of rice from his hand, haled\nhim forthright before Zumurrud, whilst all the people left eating\nand said to one another, 'By Allah, he did wrong in not eating of\nthe food meant for the like of him.' 'For me,' quoth one, 'I was\ncontent with this frumenty that is before me.' And the hashish-\neater said, 'Praised be God who hindered me from eating of the\ndish of sweet rice, for I looked for it to stand before him and\nwas only waiting for him to have stayed his hunger of it, to eat\nwith him, when there befell him what we see.' And they said, one\nto another, 'Wait till we see what befalls him.'\n\nThen said Zumurrud to Bersoum, 'Out on thee, O blue eyes! What is\nthy name and why comest thou hither?' But the accursed fellow\nmiscalled himself, having a white turban,[FN#22] and answered, 'O\nKing, my name is Ali; I am a weaver and came hither to trade.'\n'Bring me a table of sand and a pen of brass,' quoth Zumurrud,\nand they brought her what she sought. She levelled the sand and\ntaking the pen, drew a geomantic figure, in the likeness of an\nape; then, raising her head, she considered Bersoum straitly and\nsaid to him, 'O dog, how darest thou lie to kings? Art thou not a\nNazarene, Bersoum by name, and comest thou not hither in quest of\nsomewhat? Speak the truth, or, by the splendour of the Deity, I\nwill strike off thy head?' At this, Bersoum was confounded and\nthe Amirs and bystanders said, 'Verily, the King understands\ngeomancy: blessed be He who hath gifted him!' Then Zumurrud cried\nout upon Bersoum and said, 'Tell me the truth, or I will make an\nend of thee!' 'Pardon, O King of the age,' replied Bersoum; 'the\ntable hath told thee aright; thy slave is indeed a Nazarene.'\nWhereupon all present wondered at the King's skill in geomancy,\nsaying, 'Verily, the King is a diviner, whose like there is not\nin the world.'\n\nThen Zumurrud bade flay the Christian and stuff his skin with\nstraw and hang it over the gate of the tilting-ground. Moreover,\nshe commanded to dig a pit without the city and burn his flesh\nand bones therein and throw over his ashes offal and rubbish. 'We\nhear and obey,' answered they and did with him as she bade. When\nthe people saw what had befallen the Christian, they said, 'He\nhath his deserts; but what an unlucky mouthful was that for him!'\nAnd another said, 'Be my wife triply divorced if ever I eat of\nsweet rice as long as I live!' 'Praised be God,' quoth the\nhashish-eater, 'who saved me from this fellow's fate by hindering\nme from eating of the rice!' Then they all went out, minded\nthenceforth to leave sitting in the Christian's place, over\nagainst the dish of sweet rice.\n\nWhen the first day of the third month came, they laid the tables\nas of wont, and Queen Zumurrud came down and sat on her throne,\nwith her guards in attendance on her, fearing her danger. Then\nthe townsfolk entered, as usual, and went round about the tables,\nlooking for the place of the dish of sweet rice, and quoth one to\nanother, 'Hark ye, Hajji Khelef!' 'At thy service, O Hajji\nKhalid,' answered the other. 'Avoid the dish of sweet rice,' said\nKhalid, 'and look thou eat not thereof; for if thou do, thou wilt\nbe hanged.' Then they sat down to meat; and as they were eating,\nZumurrud chanced to look at the gate of the tilting-ground and\nsaw a man come running in. So she considered him and knew him for\nJewan the Kurd.\n\nNow the manner of his coming was on this wise. When he left his\nmother, he went to his comrades and said to them, 'I had fine\npurchase yesterday; for I slew a trooper and took his horse.\nMoreover there fell to me last night a pair of saddle-bags, full\nof gold, and a girl worth more than the money; and I have left\nthem all with my mother in the cave.' At this they rejoiced and\nrepaired to the cavern at nightfall, whilst they forewent them,\nthat he might fetch them the booty. But he found the place empty\nand questioned his mother, who told him what had befallen;\nwhereupon he bit his hands for despite and exclaimed, 'By Allah,\nI will make search for yonder harlot and take her, wherever she\nis, though it be in the shell of a pistachio-nut, and quench my\nmalice on her!' So he went forth in quest of her and journeyed\nfrom place to place, till he came to Queen Zumurrud's city. He\nfound the town deserted and enquiring of some women whom he saw\nlooking from the windows, learnt that it was the Sultan's custom\nto make a banquet for all the people on the first of each month\nand was directed to the tilting-ground, where the feast was\nspread.\n\nSo he came running in and finding no place empty, save that\nbefore the dish of sweet rice, took his seat there and put out\nhis hand to the dish; whereupon the folk cried out to him,\nsaying, 'O brother, what wilt thou do?' Quoth he, 'I mean to eat\nmy fill of this dish.' 'If thou eat of it,' rejoined one of the\npeople, 'thou wilt assuredly be hanged.' But Jewan said, 'Hold\nthy peace and talk not thus.' Then he stretched out his hand to\nthe dish aforesaid and drew it to him.\n\nNow the hashish-eater, of whom we have before spoken, was sitting\nby him; but when he saw him do this, the fumes of the hashish\nleft his head and he fled from his place and sat down afar off,\nsaying, 'I will have nothing to do with yonder dish.' Then Jewan\nput out his hand, as it were a crow's foot, and dipping it in the\ndish, scooped up therewith half the dishful and drew it out, as\nit were a camel's hoof, and the bottom of the dish appeared. He\nrolled the rice in his hand, till it was like a great orange, and\nthrew it ravenously into his mouth; and it rolled down his\ngullet, with a noise like thunder. 'Praised by God,' quoth his\nneighbour, 'who hath not made me meat before thee; for thou hast\nemptied the dish at one mouthful.' 'Let him eat,' said the\nhashish-eater; 'methinks he hath a gallows-face.' Then, turning\nto Jewan, 'Eat,' added he, 'and small good may it do thee!'\n\nJewan put out his hand again and taking another mouthful, was\nrolling it in his hands like the first, when Zumurrud cried out\nto the guards, saying, 'Bring me yonder man in haste and let him\nnot eat the mouthful in his hand.' So they ran and seizing him,\nas he bent over the dish, brought him to her, whilst the people\nexulted over him and said, one to the other, 'He hath his\ndeserts, for we warned him, but he would not take warning.\nVerily, this place is fated to be the death of whoso sits\ntherein, and yonder rice is fatal to all who eat of it.'\n\nThen said Zumurrud to Jewan, 'What is thy name and condition and\nwhy comest thou hither?' 'O our lord the Sultan,' answered he,\n'my name is Othman; I am a gardener and am come hither in quest\nof somewhat I have lost.' 'Bring me a table of sand,' said\nZumurrud. So they brought it, and she took the pen and drawing a\ngeomantic figure, considered it awhile, then raising her head,\nexclaimed, 'Out on thee, thou sorry knave! How darest thou lie to\nkings? This sand tells me that thy name is Jewan the Kurd and\nthat thou art by trade a robber, taking men's goods in the way of\nunright and slaying those whom God hath forbidden to slay, save\nfor just cause.' And she cried out upon him, saying, 'O hog, tell\nme the truth of thy case or I will cut off thy head!'\n\nWhen he heard this, he turned pale and his teeth chattered; then,\ndeeming that he might save himself by telling the truth, he\nreplied, 'O King, thou sayest sooth; but I repent at thy hands\nhenceforth and turn to God the Most High!' Quoth she, 'I may not\nleave a pest in the way of the true-believers.' And she said to\nher guards, 'Take him and flay him and do with him as ye did by\nhis like last month.' And they did her commandment. When the\nhashish-eater saw this, he turned his back upon the dish of rice,\nsaying, 'It is unlawful to present my face to thee.' Then, when\nthey had made an end of eating, they dispersed and Zumurrud\nreturned to her palace and dismissed her attendants.\n\nWhen the fourth month came round, they made the banquet, as of\nwont, and the folk sat awaiting leave to begin. Presently\nZumurrud entered and sitting down on her throne, looked at the\ntables and saw that room for four people was left void before the\ndish of rice, at which she wondered. As she sat, looking around,\nshe saw a man come running in at the gate, who stayed not till he\nreached the tables and finding no room, save before the dish of\nrice, took his seat there. She looked at him and knowing him for\nthe accursed Christian, who called himself Reshideddin, said in\nherself, 'How blessed is this device of the food, into whose\ntoils this infidel hath fallen!'\n\nNow the manner of his coming was extraordinary, and it was on\nthis wise. When he returned from his journey, the people of the\nhouse told him that Zumurrud was missing and with her a pair of\nsaddle-bags full of gold; whereupon he rent his clothes and\nbuffeted his face and plucked out his beard. Then he despatched\nhis brother Bersoum in quest of her, and when he was weary of\nawaiting news of him, he went forth himself, to seek for him and\nfor Zumurrud, and fate led him to the latter's city. He entered\nit on the first day of the month and finding the streets deserted\nand the shops shut, enquired of the women at the windows, who\ntold him that the King made a banquet on the first of each month\nfor the people, all of whom were bound to attend it, nor might\nany abide in his house or shop that day; and they directed him to\nthe tilting-ground.\n\nSo he betook himself thither and sitting down before the rice,\nput out his hand to eat thereof, whereupon Zumurrud cried out to\nher guards, saying, 'Bring me him who sits before the dish of\nrice.' So they laid hands on him and brought him before Queen\nZumurrud, who said to him, 'Out on thee! What is thy name and\noccupation, and what brings thee hither?' 'O King of the age,'\nanswered he, 'my name is Rustem and I have no occupation, for\nI am a poor dervish.' Then said she to her attendants, 'Bring\nme a table of sand and pen of brass.' So they brought her what\nshe sought, as usual; and she took the pen and drawing a\ngeomantic figure, considered it awhile, then raising her head to\nReshideddin, said, 'O dog, how darest thou lie to kings? Thy name\nis Reshideddin the Nazarene; thou art outwardly a Muslim, but a\nChristian at heart, and thine occupation is to lay snares for the\nslave-girls of the Muslims and take them. Speak the truth, or\nI will smite off thy head.' He hesitated and stammered, then\nreplied, 'Thou sayest sooth, O King of the age!' Whereupon she\ncommanded to throw him down and give him a hundred blows on each\nsole and a thousand on his body; after which she bade flay him\nand stuff his skin with hards of flax and dig a pit without the\ncity, wherein they should burn his body and cast dirt and rubbish\non his ashes. They did as she bade them and she gave the people\nleave to eat.\n\nSo they ate their fill and went their ways, whilst Zumurrud\nreturned to her palace, thanking God for that He had solaced her\nheart of those who had wronged her. Then she praised the Creator\nof heaven and earth and repeated the following verses:\n\nLo, these erst had power and used it with oppression and unright!\n     In a little, their dominion was as it ne'er had been.\nHad they used their power with justice, they had been repaid the\n     like; But they wrought unright and Fortune guerdoned them\n     with dole and teen.\nSo they perished and the moral of the case bespeaks them thus,\n     \"This is what your crimes have earnt you: Fate is not to\n     blame, I ween.\"\n\nThen she called to mind her lord Ali Shar and wept, but presently\nrecovered herself and said, 'Surely God, who hath given mine\nenemies into my hand, will vouchsafe me speedy reunion with my\nbeloved; for He can do what He will and is generous to His\nservants and mindful of their case!' Then she praised God (to\nwhom belong might and majesty) and besought forgiveness of Him,\nsubmitting herself to the course of destiny, assured that to each\nbeginning there is an end, and repeating the saying of the poet:\n\nBe at thine ease, for all things' destiny Is in His hands who\n     fashioned earth and sea.\nNothing of Him forbidden shall befall Nor aught of Him appointed\n     fail to thee.\n\nAnd what another saith:\n\nLet the days pass, as they list, and fare, And enter thou not the\n     house of despair.\nFull oft, when the quest of a thing is hard, The next hour brings\n     us the end of our care.\n\nAnd a third:\n\nBe mild what time thou'rt ta'en with anger and despite And\n     patient, if there fall misfortune on thy head.\nIndeed, the nights are quick and great with child by Time And of\n     all wondrous things are hourly brought to bed.\n\nAnd a fourth:\n\nTake patience, for therein is good; an thou be learn'd in it,\n     Thou shalt be calm of soul nor drink of anguish any whit.\nAnd know that if, with a good grace, thou do not thee submit, Yet\n     must thou suffer, will or nill, that which the Pen hath\n     writ.\n\nShe abode thus another whole month's space, judging the folk and\ncommanding and forbidding by day, and by night weeping and\nbewailing her separation from her lord Ali Shar. On the first day\nof the fifth month, she bade spread the banquet as usual and sat\ndown at the head of the tables, whilst the people awaited the\nsignal to fall to, leaving the space before the dish of rice\nvacant. She sat with eyes fixed upon the gate of the tilting-\nground, noting all who entered and saying, 'O Thou that\nrestoredst Joseph\nto Jacob and didst away the affliction of Job, vouchsafe of Thy\npower and greatness to restore me my lord Ali Shar; for Thou\ncanst all things! O Lord of all creatures, O Guide of the erring,\nO Hearer of those that cry, O Answerer of prayer, answer Thou my\nprayer, O Lord of all creatures!'\n\nHardly had she made an end of her prayer, when she saw entering\nthe gate a young man, in shape like the willow wand, the\ncomeliest and most accomplished of youths, save that his face was\nsallow and his form wasted. He came up to the tables and finding\nno seat vacant save before the dish of rice, sat down there;\nwhereupon Zumurrud's heart fluttered and observing him narrowly,\nshe knew him for her lord Ali Shar and was like to have cried out\nfor joy, but restrained herself, fearing disgrace before the\nfolk. Her bowels were troubled and her heart throbbed; but she\nconcealed that which she suffered.\n\nNow the manner of his coming thither was on this wise. When\nhe awoke and found himself lying on the bench outside the\nChristian's house, with his head bare, he knew that some one had\ncome upon him and robbed him of his turban, whilst he slept. So\nhe spoke the word, which whoso saith shall never be confounded,\nthat is to say, 'Verily, we are God's and to Him we return!' and\ngoing back to the old woman's house, knocked at the door. She\ncame out and he wept before her, till he swooned away. When he\ncame to himself, he told her all that had passed, and she blamed\nhim and chid him for his heedlessness, saying, 'Thou hast but\nthyself to thank for thine affliction and calamity.' And she\ngave not over reproaching him, till the blood streamed from his\nnostrils and he again fainted away. When he revived, he saw her\nweeping over him; so he bewailed himself and repeated the\nfollowing verses:\n\nHow bitter is parting to friends, and how sweet Reunion to\n     lovers, for sev'rance that sigh!\nMay God all unite them and watch over me, For I'm of their number\n     and like for to die.\n\nThe old woman mourned over him and said to him, 'Sit here, whilst\nI go in quest of news and return to thee in haste.' 'I hear and\nobey,' answered he. So she left him and was absent till midday,\nwhen she returned and said to him, 'O Ali, I fear me thou must\ndie in thy grief; thou wilt never see thy beloved again save on\nEs Sirat;[FN#23] for the people of the Christian's house, when\nthey arose in the morning, found the window giving on the garden\nbroken in and Zumurrud missing, and with her a pair of saddle-\nbags, full of the Christian's money. When I came thither, I found\nthe Master of Police and his officers standing at the door, and\nthere is no power and no virtue save in God the Most High, the\nSupreme!'\n\nWhen he heard this, the light in his eyes was changed to darkness\nand he despaired of life and made sure of death; nor did he leave\nweeping, till he lost his senses. When he recovered, love and\nlonging were sore upon him; there befell him a grievous sickness\nand he kept his house a whole year; during which time the old\nwoman ceased not to bring him doctors and ply him with diet-\ndrinks and make him broths, till his life returned to him. Then\nhe recalled what had passed and repeated the following verses:\n\nUnion is parted; in its stead, of grief I am possessed: My tears\n     flow still, my heart's on fire for yearning and unrest.\nLonging redoubles on a wight who hath no peace, so sore Of love\n     and wakefulness and pain he's wasted and oppressed.\nLord, I beseech Thee, if there be relief for me in aught,\n     Vouchsafe it, whilst a spark of life abideth in my breast.\n\nWhen the second year began, the old woman said to him, 'O my son,\nall this thy sadness and sorrowing will not bring thee back thy\nmistress. Rise, therefore, take heart and seek for her in the\nlands: haply thou shalt light on some news of her.' And she\nceased not to exhort and encourage him, till he took heart and\nshe carried him to the bath. Then she made him drink wine and eat\nfowls, and thus she did with him for a whole month, till he\nregained strength and setting out, journeyed without ceasing till\nhe arrived at Zumurrud's city, when he went to the tilting-ground\nand sitting down before the dish of sweet rice, put out his hand\nto eat of it.\n\nWhen the folk saw this, they were concerned for him and said to\nhim, 'O young man, eat not of that dish, for whoso eats thereof,\nmisfortune befalls him.' 'Leave me to eat of it,' answered he,\n'and let them do with me as they list, so haply I may be at rest\nfrom this weary life.' Then he ate a first mouthful, and Zumurrud\nwas minded to have him brought to her; but bethought her that\nbelike he was anhungred and said in herself, 'It were well to let\nhim eat his fill.' So he went on eating, whilst the people looked\non in astonishment, waiting to see what would befall him; and\nwhen he had done, Zumurrud said to certain of her eunuchs, 'Go to\nyonder youth that eateth of the rice and bring him to me on\ncourteous wise, saying, 'The King would have speech of thee on\nsome slight matter.' 'We hear and obey,' answered they and going\nup to Ali Shar, said to him, 'O my lord, the King desires the\nfavour of a word with thee, and let thy heart be easy.' 'I hear\nand obey,' replied he and followed the eunuchs, who carried him\nbefore Zumurrud, whilst the people said to one another, 'There is\nno power and no virtue save in God the Most High, the Supreme! I\nwonder what the King will do with him!' And others said, 'He will\ndo him nought but good; for, were he minded to harm him, he had\nnot suffered him to eat his fill.'\n\nWhen he came before Zumurrud, he saluted and kissed the earth\nbefore her, whilst she returned his greeting and received him\nwith honour. Then said she to him, 'What is thy name and\ncondition and what brought thee hither?' 'O King,' answered he,\n'my name is Ali Shar; I am of the sons of the merchants of\nKhorassan and the object of my coming hither is to seek for a\nslave-girl whom I have lost; for she was dearer to me than my\nsight and my hearing, and indeed my soul cleaves to her, since I\nlost her.' And he wept, till he swooned away. She caused sprinkle\nrose-water on his face, till he came to himself, when she said,\n'Bring me the table of sand and the pen.' So they brought them\nand she took the pen and drew a geomantic figure, which she\nconsidered awhile; then, 'Thou hast spoken sooth,' quoth she.\n'God will grant thee speedy reunion with her; so be not\ntroubled.' Then she bade her chamberlain carry him to the bath\nand after clothe him in a handsome suit of royal apparel, and\nmount him an one of the best of the King's horses and bring him\nto the palace at end of day. So the chamberlain took him away,\nwhilst the folk said to one another, 'What makes the King deal\nthus courteously with yonder youth?' And one said, 'Did I not\ntell you that he would do him no hurt? For he is fair of aspect;\nand this I knew, when the King suffered him to eat his fill.' And\neach said his say; after which they all dispersed and went their\nways.\n\nAs for Zumurrud, she thought the night would never come, that she\nmight be alone with the beloved of her heart. As soon as it was\ndusk, she withdrew to her sleeping-chamber and made as she were\novercome with sleep; and it was her wont to suffer none to pass\nthe night with her, save the two little eunuchs that waited upon\nher. After a little, she sent for Ali Shar and sat down upon the\nbed, with candles burning at her head and feet and the place\nlighted with hanging lamps of gold that shone like the sun. When\nthe people heard of her sending for Ali Shar, they marvelled and\nsaid, 'Algates, the King is enamoured of this young man, and to-\nmorrow he will make him commander of the troops.' And each\nthought his thought and said his say. When they brought him in to\nher, he kissed the earth before her and called down blessings on\nher, and she said in herself, 'Needs must I jest with him awhile,\nere I make myself known to him.' Then said she to him, 'O Ali,\nhast thou been to the bath?' 'Yes, O my lord,' answered he.\n'Come, eat of this fowl and meat and drink of this wine and\nsherbet of sugar,' said she; 'for thou art weary; and after come\nhither.' 'I hear and obey,' replied he and did as she bade him.\n\nWhen he had made an end of eating and drinking, she said to him,\n'Come up with me on the couch and rub my feet.' So he fell to\nrubbing her feet and legs and found them softer than silk. Then\nsaid she, 'Go higher with the rubbing;' and he, 'Pardon me, O my\nlord, I will go no higher than the knee.' Whereupon, 'Wilt thou\ngainsay me?' quoth she. 'It shall be an ill-omened night for\nthee! Nay, but it behoves thee to do my bidding and I will make\nthee my minion and appoint thee one of my Amirs.' 'And in what\nmust I do thy bidding, O King of the age?' asked Ali. 'Put off\nthy trousers,' answered she, 'and lie down on thy face.' Quoth\nhe, 'That is a thing I never in my life did; and if thou force me\nthereto, I will accuse thee thereof before God on the Day of\nResurrection. Take all thou hast given me and let me go to my own\ncity.' And he wept and lamented. But she said, 'Put off thy\ntrousers and lie down on thy face, or I will strike off thy\nhead.' So he did as she bade him and she mounted upon his back.\nAnd he felt what was softer than silk and fresher than cream and\nsaid in himself, 'Of a truth, this King is better than all the\nwomen!'\n\nShe abode a while on his back, then turned over on to the ground,\nand he said [in himself], 'Praised be God! It seems his yard is\nnot in point.' Then said she, 'O Ali, it is of the wont of my\nyard that it standeth not on end, except it be rubbed with the\nhand; so, some, rub it with thy hand, till it be in point, else\nwill I kill thee.' So saying, she lay down on her back and taking\nhis hand, set it to her kaze, and he found it a kaze softer than\nsilk, white, plump and great, resembling for heat the hot room of\nthe bath or the heart of a lover, whom passion hath wasted. Quoth\nAli in himself, 'Verily, this King hath a kaze. This is a wonder\nof wonders!' And desire got hold on him and his yard stood on end\nto the utmost; which when Zumurrud saw, she burst out laughing\nand said to him, 'O my lord, all this betideth and yet thou\nknowest me not!' 'And who art thou, O King?' asked he; and she\nsaid, 'I am thy slave-girl Zumurrud.'\n\nWhen he knew this and was certified that she was indeed his very\nslave-girl Zumurrud, he threw himself upon her, as the lion upon\nthe sheep, and kissed her and embraced her. Then he thrust his\nyard into her poke and stinted not to play the porter at her door\nand the Imam[FN#24] at her prayer-niche, whilst she with him\nceased not from inclination and prostration and rising up and\nsitting down,[FN#25] accompanying her canticles of praise[FN#26]\nwith motitations and other amorous gestures, till the [two\nlittle] eunuchs [aforesaid] heard [the noise]. So they came and\npeeping out from behind the curtains, saw the King lying [on his\nback] and Ali Shar upon him, thrusting and thronging amain,\nwhilst she puffed and blew and wriggled. Quoth they, 'This is no\nman's wriggle; belike this King is a woman.' But they concealed\ntheir affair and discovered it to none.\n\nOn the morrow, Zumurrud summoned all the troops and the grandees\nof the realm and said to them, 'I am minded to journey to this\nman's country; so choose a deputy, who shall rule over you, till\nI return to you.' And they answered, 'We hear and obey.' Then she\napplied herself to making ready for the journey and furnished\nherself with victual and treasure and camels and mules and so\nforth; after which she set out with Ali Shar, and they fared on,\ntill they arrived at his native place, where he entered his house\nand gave alms and largesse. God vouchsafed him children by her,\nand they both lived the happiest of lives, till there came to\nthem the Destroyer of Delights and Sunderer of Companies. Glory\nbe to God, the Eternal without cease, and praised be He in every\ncase!\n\n\n\n\n\n           THE LOVES OF JUBEIR BEN UMEIR AND THE LADY\n                             BUDOUR\n\n\n\nIt is related the Khalif Haroun er Reshid was restless one night\nand could not sleep; so that he ceased not to toss from side to\nside for very restlessness, till, growing weary of this, he\ncalled Mesrour and said to him, 'O Mesrour, look what may solace\nme of this my restlessness.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,'\nanswered Mesrour, 'wilt thou walk in the garden of the palace and\ndivert thyself with the sight of its flowers and gaze upon the\nstars and note the beauty of their ordinance and the moon among\nthem, shining on the water?' 'O Mesrour,' replied the Khalif, 'my\nheart inclines not to aught of this.' 'O my lord,' continued\nMesrour, 'there are in thy palace three hundred concubines, each\nof whom hath her separate lodging. Do thou bid retire each into\nher own apartment and then go thou about and divert thyself with\ngazing on them, without their knowledge.' 'O Mesrour,' answered\nHaroun, 'the palace is mine and the girls are my property:\nmoreover, my soul inclineth not to aught of this.' 'O my lord,'\nsaid Mesrour, 'summon the doctors and sages and poets and bid\nthem contend before thee in argument and recite verses and tell\nthee tales and anecdotes.' 'My soul inclines not to aught of\nthis,' answered the Khalif; and Mesrour said, 'O my lord, bid the\nminions and wits and boon-companions attend thee and divert thee\nwith witty sallies.' 'O Mesrour,' replied the Khalif, 'indeed my\nsoul inclineth not to aught of this.' 'Then, O my lord,' rejoined\nMesrour, 'strike off my head; maybe, that will dispel thine\nunease and do away the restlessness that is upon thee.'\n\nAt this the Khalif laughed and said, 'See which of the boon-\ncompanions is at the door.' So Mesrour went out and returning,\nsaid, 'O my lord, he who sits without is Ali ben Mensour of\nDamascus, the Wag.' 'Bring him to me,' quoth Haroun; and Mesrour\nwent out and returned with Ibn Mensour, who said, on entering,\n'Peace be on thee, O Commander of the Faithful!' The Khalif\nreturned his salutation and said to him, 'O Ibn Mensour, tell us\none of thy stories.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' said the\nother, 'shall I tell thee what I have seen with my eyes or what I\nhave only heard tell?' 'If thou have seen aught worth telling,'\nreplied the Khalif, 'let us hear it; for report is not like eye-\nwitness.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' said Ibn Mensour, 'lend\nme thine ear and thy heart.' 'O Ibn Mensour,' answered the\nKhalif, 'behold, I am listening to thee with mine ears and\nlooking at thee with mine eyes and attending to thee with my\nheart.'\n\n'Know then, O Commander of the Faithful,' began Ibn Mensour,\n'that I receive a yearly allowance from Mohammed ben Suleiman el\nHashimi, Sultan[FN#27] of Bassora; so I went to him, once upon a\ntime, as usual, and found him about to ride out a-hunting. I\nsaluted him, and he returned my salute and would have me mount and\ngo a-hunting with him; but I said, \"O my lord, I cannot ride; so\ndo thou stablish me in the guest-house and give thy chamberlains\nand officers charge over me.\" And he did so and departed for the\nchase. His officers entreated me with the utmost honour and\nhospitality; but I said in myself, \"By Allah, it is a strange\nthing that I should have used so long to come from Baghdad to\nBassora, yet know no more of the town than from the palace to\nthe garden and back again! When shall I find an occasion like\nthis to view the different parts of Bassora? I will rise at once\nand walk forth alone and divert myself and digest what I have\neaten.\"\n\nSo I donned my richest clothes and went out a-walking in Bassora.\nNow it is known to thee, O Commander of the Faithful, that it\nhath seventy streets, each seventy parasangs long of Irak\nmeasure; and I lost myself in its by-streets and thirst overcame\nme. Presently, as I went along, I came to a great door, on which\nwere two rings of brass, with curtains of red brocade drawn\nbefore it. Over the door was a trellis, covered with a creeping\nvine, that hung down and shaded the doorway; and on either side\nthe porch was a stone bench. I stood still, to gaze upon the\nplace, and presently heard a sorrowful voice, proceeding from a\nmourning heart, warbling melodiously and chanting the following\nverses:\n\nMy body is become th' abode of sickness and dismay, By reason of\n     a fawn, whose land and stead are far away.\nO zephyr of the waste, that roused my pain in me, I pray, By God\n     your Lord, to him, with whom my heart dwells, take your way\n          And prithee chide him, so reproach may soften him,\n          maybe.\nAnd if to you he do incline and hearken, then make fair Your\n     speech and tidings unto him of lovers, 'twixt you, bear.\nYea, and vouchsafe to favour me with service debonair And unto\n     him I love make known my case and my despair,\n          Saying, \"What ails thy bounden slave that, for\n          estrangement, she\nShould die without offence of her committed or despite Or\n     disobedience or breach of plighted faith or slight\nOr fraud or turning of her heart to other or unright?\" And if he\n     smile, with dulcet speech bespeak ye thus the wight:\n          \"An thou thy company wouldst grant to her, 'twere well\n          of thee;\nFor she for love of thee's distraught, as needs must be the case;\n     Her eyes are ever void of sleep; she weeps and wails apace.\"\nIf he show favour and incline to grant the wished-for grace, 'Tis\n     well and good; but, if ye still read anger in his face,\n          Dissemble then with him and say, \"We know her not, not\n          we.\"\n\nQuoth I to myself, \"Verily, if the owner of this voice be fair,\nshe unites beauty of person and eloquence and sweetness of\nvoice.\" Then I drew near the door, and raising the curtain little\nby little, beheld a damsel, white as the moon, when it rises on\nits fourteenth night, with joined eyebrows and languorous\neyelids, breasts like twin pomegranates and dainty lips like twin\ncorn-marigolds,[FN#28] mouth as it were Solomon's seal and teeth\nthat sported with the reason of rhymester and proser, even as\nsaith the poet:\n\nO mouth of the beloved, who set thy pearls arow And eke with\n     wine fulfilled thee and camomiles like show,\nAnd lent the morning-glory unto thy smile, and who Hath with a\n     padlock sealed thee of rubies sweet of show?\nWhoso but looks upon thee is mad for joy and pride. How should\n     it fare with him, who kisseth thee, heigho!\n\nAnd as saith another:\n\nO pearls of the teeth of my love, Have ruth on cornelian and\n     spare To vie with it! Shall it not find You peerless and\n     passing compare?\n\nIn fine, she comprised all manner of loveliness and was a\nravishment to men and women, nor could the beholder satisfy\nhimself with the sight of her beauty; for she was as the poet\nhath said of her:\n\nIf, face to face, she do appear, unveiled, she slays; and if\n     She turn her back, she makes all men her lovers far and\n     near.\nLike the full moon and eke the sun she is, but cruelty And\n     inhumanity belong not to her nature dear.\nThe garden-gates of Paradise are opened with her shift And the\n     full moon revolveth still upon her neck-rings' sphere.\n\nAs I looked at her through the opening of the curtains, she\nturned and seeing me standing at the door, said to her maid,\n\"See who stands at the door.\" So the maid came up to me and\nsaid, \"O old man, hast thou no shame, or do gray hairs and\nimpudence go together?\" \"O my mistress,\" answered I, \"I confess\nto the gray hairs, but as for unmannerliness, I think not to be\nguilty of it.\" \"And what can be more unmannerly,\" rejoined her\nmistress, \"than to intrude thyself upon a house other than thy\nhouse and gaze on a harem other than thy harem?\" \"O my lady,\"\nsaid I, \"I have an excuse.\" \"And what is thine excuse?\" asked\nshe. Quoth I, \"I am a stranger and well-nigh dead of thirst.\"\n\"We accept thine excuse,\" answered she and calling one of her\nmaids, said to her, \"O Lutf, give him to drink in the golden\ntankard.\"\n\nSo she brought me a tankard of red gold, set with pearls and\njewels, full of water mingled with odoriferous musk and covered\nwith a napkin of green silk; and I addressed myself to drink\nand was long about it, casting stolen glances at her the while,\ntill I could prolong it no longer. Then I returned the tankard\nto the maid, but did not offer to go; and she said to me, \"O old\nman, go thy way.\" \"O my lady,\" replied I, \"I am troubled in mind.\"\n\"For what?\" asked she; and I answered, \"For the uncertainty of\nfortune and the vicissitudes of events.\" \"Well mayst thou be\ntroubled thereanent,\" replied she, \"for Time[FN#29] is the\nmother of wonders. But what hast thou seen of them that thou\nshouldst muse upon?\" Quoth I, \"I was thinking of the former\nowner of this house, for he was my good friend in his lifetime.\"\n\"What was his name?\" asked she. \"Mohammed ben Ali the Jeweller,\"\nanswered I; \"and he was a man of great wealth. Did he leave\nany children?\" \"Yes,\" said she; \"he left a daughter, Budour\nby name, who inherited all his wealth.\" Quoth I, \"Meseems\nthou art his daughter?\" \"Yes,\" answered she, laughing; then\nadded, \"O old man, thou hast talked long enough; go thy ways.\"\n\"Needs must I go,\" replied I; \"but I see thou art out of health.\nTell me thy case; it may be God will give thee solace at\nmy hands.\" \"O old man,\" rejoined she, \"if thou be a man of\ndiscretion, I will discover to thee my secret; but first\ntell me who thou art, that I may know whether thou art worthy\nof confidence or not; for the poet saith:\n\nNone keepeth secrets but the man who's trusty and discreet: A\n     secret's ever safely placed with honest fold and leal;\nFor me, my secrets I preserve within a locked-up house, Whose\n     key is lost and on whose door is set the Cadi's seal.\"\n\n\"O my lady,\" answered I, \"an thou wouldst know who I am, I am\nAli ben Mensour of Damascus, the Wag, boon-companion to the\nKhalif Haroun er Reshid.\" When she heard my name she came down\nfrom her seat and saluting me, said, \"Welcome, O Ibn Mensour!\nNow will I tell thee my case and entrust thee with my secret.\nKnow that I am a lover separated from her beloved.\" \"O my\nlady,\" rejoined I, \"thou art fair and shouldst love none but\nthe fair. Whom then dost thou love?\" Quoth she, \"I love Jubeir\nben Umeir es Sheibani, Prince of the Benou Sheiban;\"[FN#30] and\nshe described to me a young man than whom there was none\nhandsomer in Bassora. \"O my lady,\" asked I, \"have letters or\ninterviews passed between you?\" \"Yes,\" answered she; \"but his\nlove for me was of the tongue, not of the heart; for he kept\nnot his covenant nor was faithful to his troth.\" \"And what was\nthe cause of your separation?\" asked I.\n\n\"I was sitting one day,\" replied she, \"whilst my maid here\ncombed my hair. When she had made an end of combing it, she\nplaited my tresses, and my beauty and grace pleased her; so she\nbent down to me and kissed my cheek. At that moment, he came\nin, unawares, and seeing her kiss my cheek, turned away in\nanger, vowing eternal separation and repeating the following\nverses:\n\nIf any share with me in her I love, incontinent, I'll cast her\n     off from me and be to live alone content.\nA mistress, sure, is nothing worth, if, in the way of love, She\n     wish for aught but that to which the lover doth consent.\n\nAnd from that time to this, O Ibn Mensour,\" continued she, \"he\nhath neither written to me nor answered my letters.\" \"And what\nthinkest thou to do?\" asked I. Quoth she, \"I have a mind to send\nhim a letter by thee. If thou bring me back an answer, thou shalt\nhave of me five hundred dinars; and if not, then a hundred for\nthy pains.\" \"Do what seemeth good to thee,\" answered I. So she\ncalled for inkhorn and paper and wrote the following verses:\n\nWhence this estrangement and despite, beloved of my soul?\n     Whither have kindliness and love between us taken flight?\nWhat makes thee with aversion turn from me? Indeed, thy face Is\n     not the face I used to know, when we our troth did plight.\nBelike, the slanderers have made a false report of me, And thou\n     inclin'dst to them, and they redoubled in despite.\nIf thou believedst their report, far, far it should have been\n     From thee, that art too whole of wit at such a bait to\n     bite!\nYea, I conjure thee by thy life, tell me what thou hast heard:\n     For lo! thou knowest what was said and wilt not do\n     unright.\nIf aught I've said that angered thee, a speech of change\n     admits; Ay, and interpreting, I trow, may change its\n     meaning quite,\nWere it a word sent down from God; for even the Pentateuch Hath\n     falsified and garbled been of this and th' other\n     wight.[FN#31]\nWhilst, as for lies, how many were of folk before us told!\n     Joseph to Jacob was traduced and blackened in his sight.\nYea, for the slanderer and myself and thee, an awful day Of\n     standing up shall come, when God to judgment all shall\n     cite.\n\nThen she sealed the letter and gave it to me. I took it and\ncarried it to the house of Jubeir ben Umeir, whom I found\nabsent hunting. So I sat down, to wait for him, and presently\nhe returned; and when I saw him come riding up, my wit was\nconfounded by his beauty ands grace. As soon as he saw me\nsitting at the door, he dismounted and coming up to me, saluted\nand embraced me; and meseemed I embraced the world and all that\ntherein is. Then he carried me into his house and seating me on\nhis own couch, called for food. So they brought a table of\nkhelenj[FN#32] wood of Khorassan, with feet of gold, whereon\nwere all manner of meats, fried and roasted and the like. So I\nseated myself at the table and examining it, found the following\nverses engraved upon it:\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\n     kinds, Upon a paste of wheaten flour, lay hidden in the\n     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,\nAnd eke the rice with buffaloes' milk dressed and made savoury,\n     Wherein the hands were plunged and arms were buried\n     bracelet high!\nO soul, I rede thee patient be, for God is bountiful: What\n     though thy fortunes straitened be, His succour's ever\n     nigh.\n\nThen said Jubeir, \"Put thy hand to our food and ease our heart\nby eating of our victual.\" \"By Allah,\" answered I, \"I will not\neat a mouthful, till thou grant me my desire.\" \"What is thy\ndesire?\" asked he. So I brought out the letter and gave it to\nhim; but, when he had read it, he tore it into pieces and\nthrowing it on the floor, said to me, \"O Ibn Mensour, I will\ngrant thee whatever thou askest, save this that concerns the\nwriter of this letter, for I have no answer to make to her.\" At\nthis, I rose in anger; but he caught hold of my skirts, saying,\n\"O Ibn Mensour, I will tell thee what she said to thee, for all\nI was not present with you.\" \"And what did she say to me?\"\nasked I. \"Did she not say to thee,\" rejoined he, \"'If thou bring\nme back an answer, thou shalt have of me five hundred dinars;\nand if not, a hundred for thy pains?'\" \"Yes,\" answered I; and\nhe said, \"Abide with me this day and eat and drink and make\nmerry, and thou shalt have five hundred dinars.\"\n\nSo I sat with him and ate and drank and made merry and\nentertained him with converse; after which I said to him, \"O my\nmaster, is there no music in thy house?\" \"Indeed,\" answered he,\n\"we have drunk this long while without music.\" Then he called\nout, saying, \"Ho, Shejeret ed Durr!\" Whereupon a slave-girl\nanswered him from her chamber and came in to us, with a lute of\nIndian make, wrapped in a silken bag. She sat down and laying\nthe lute in her lap, preluded in one-and-twenty modes, then,\nreturning to the first, sang the following verses to a lively\nmeasure:\n\nWho hath not tasted the sweet and the bitter of passion, I\n     trow, The presence of her whom he loves from her absence\n     he hardly shall know.\nSo he, from the pathway of love who hath wandered and fallen\n     astray, The smooth knoweth not from the rough of the\n     roadway, wherein he doth go.\nI ceased not the votaries of love and of passion to cross and\n     gainsay, Till I too must taste of its sweet and its\n     bitter, its gladness and woe.\nThen I drank a full draught of the cup of its bitters, and\n     humbled was I, and thus to the bondman of Love and its\n     freedman therein was brought low.\nHow many a night have I passed with the loved one, carousing\n     with him, Whilst I drank from his lips what was sweeter\n     than nectar and colder than snow!\nHow short was the life of the nights of our pleasance! It\n     seemed to us still, No sooner was night fallen down than\n     the daybreak to eastward did glow.\nBut Fortune had vowed she would sever our union and sunder our\n     loves; And now, in good sooth, she her vow hath\n     accomplished. Fate ordered it so;\nFate ordered it thus, and against its ordaining, appeal there\n     is none; For who shall gainsay a supreme one's\n     commandments or causes him forego?\n\nHardly had she made an end of these verses, when Jubeir gave a\ngreat cry and fell down in a swoon; whereupon, \"May God not\npunish thee, O old man!\" exclaimed the damsel. \"This long time\nhave we drunk without music, for fear the like of this should\nbefall our master. But go now to yon chamber and sleep there.\"\nSo I went to the chamber in question and slept till the\nmorning, when a page brought me a purse of five hundred dinars\nand said to me, \"This is what my master promised thee; but\nreturn thou not to her who sent thee and let it be as if\nneither thou nor we had heard of this affair.\" \"I hear and\nobey,\" answered I and taking the purse, went my way.\n\nHowever, I said in myself, \"The lady will have expected me\nsince yesterday; and by Allah, I must needs return to her and\ntell her what passed between me and him; or she will curse me\nand all who come from my country.\" So I went to her and found\nher standing behind the door; and when she saw me, she said, \"O\nIbn Mensour, thou hast gotten me nought.\" \"Who told thee of\nthis?\" asked I; and she answered, \"O Ibn Mensour, yet another\nthing hath been revealed to me; and it is that, when thou\ngavest hum the letter, he tore it in pieces and throwing it on\nthe floor, said to thee, 'O Ibn Mensour, ask me anything but\nwhat relates to the writer of this letter; for I have no reply\nto make to her.' Then didst thou rise from beside him in anger;\nbut he laid hold of thy skirts, saying, 'Abide with me to-day,\nfor thou art my guest, and eat and drink and make merry; and\nthou shalt have five hundred dinars.' So thou didst sit with\nhim, eating and drinking and making merry, and entertainedst\nhim with converse; and a slave-girl sand such an air and such\nverses, whereupon he fell down in a swoon.\" Quoth I, \"Wast thou\nthen with us?\" \"O Ibn Mensour,\" replied she, \"hast thou not\nheard the saying of the poet:\n\nThe heart of the lover hath eyes, well I wot, That see what the\n     eyes of beholders see not.\n\nBut,\" added she, \"day and night alternate not upon aught, but they\nchange it.\" Then she raised her eyes to heaven and said, \"O my\nGod and my Master and my Lord, like as Thou hast afflicted me\nwith love of Jubeir ben Umeir, even so do Thou afflict him with\nlove of me and transfer the passion from my heart to his!\" Then\nshe gave me a hundred dinars for my pains and I took it and\nreturned to the palace, when I found the Sultan come back from\nhunting; so I took my pension of him and made my way back to\nBaghdad.\n\nNext year, I repaired to Bassora, as usual, to seek my pension,\nand the Sultan paid it to me; but as I was about to return to\nBaghdad, I bethought me of the lady Budour and said to myself,\n\"By Allah, I must needs go and see what hath befallen between\nher and her lover!\" So I went to her house and finding the\nporch swept and sprinkled and slaves and servants and pages\nstanding before the door, said to myself, \"Most like grief hath\nbroken the lady's heart and she is dead, and some Amir or other\nhath taken up his abode in her house.\" So I went on to Jubeir's\nhouse, where I found the benches of the porch broken down and\nno pages at the door, as of wont, and said to myself, \"Belike\nhe too is dead.\" Then I took up my station before the door of\nhis house and with my eyes running over with tears, bemoaned it\nin the following verses:\n\nLords, that are gone, but whom my heart doth evermore ensue,\n     Return; so shall my festal says return to me with you.\nI stand before your sometime stead, bewailing your abodes, With\n     quivering lids, from which the tears rain down, like\n     summer dew.\nWeeping, I question of the house and ruins, \"Where is he Who\n     was the source of benefits and bounties ever new?\"\n[They answer] \"Go thy ways, for those thou lov'st from the\n     abode Departed are and neath the dust are buried; so\n     adieu!\"\nMay God not stint us of the sight [in dreams] of all their\n     charms Nor be their noble memories aye absent from men's\n     view!\n\nAs I was thus bewailing the folk of the house, there came a\nblack slave thereout and said to me, \"Hold thy peace, O old\nman! May thy mother be bereft of thee! What ails thee to bemoan\nthe house thus?\" Quoth I, \"I knew it of yore, when it belonged\nto a good friend of mine.\" \"What was his name?\" asked the\nslave. And I answered, \"Jubeir ben Umeir the Sheibani.\" \"And\nwhat hath befallen him?\" rejoined he. \"Praised be God, he is\nyet in the enjoyment of wealth and rank and prosperity, except\nthat God hath stricken him with love of a damsel called the\nlady Budour; and he is overcome with love of her, that, for the\nviolence of his passion and torment, he is like a great rock\noverthrown. If he hunger, he saith not, 'Feed me;' nor, if he\nthirst, doth he say, 'Give me to drink.'\" Quoth I, \"Ask leave\nme to go in to him.\" \"O my lord,\" said the slave, \"Wilt thou go\nin to him who understands or to him who understands not?\" \"I\nmust needs see him, whatever be his case,\" answered I.\n\nSe he went in and presently returned with permission for me to\nenter, whereupon I went in to Jubeir and found him like a rock\noverthrown, understanding neither sign nor speech. I spoke to\nhim, but he answered me not; and one of his servants said to\nme, \"O my lord, if thou know aught of verse, repeat it, and\nraise thy voice; and he will be aroused by this and speak with\nthee.\" So I recited the following verses:\n\nBudour's love hast thou forgotten or art deaf still to her\n     sighs? Wak'st anights, or do thine eyelids close upon thy\n     sleeping eyes?\nIf thy tears flow fast and freely, night and day long, torrent-\n     wise, Know thou, then, that thou shalt sojourn evermore in\n     Paradise.[FN#33]\n\nWhen he heard this, he opened his eyes and said, \"Welcome, O\nIbn Mensour! Verily, the jest is become earnest.\" \"O my lord,\"\nsaid I, \"is there aught thou wouldst have me do for thee?\"\n\"Yes,\" answered he; \"I would fain write her a letter and send\nit to her by thee. If thou bring me back an answer, thou shalt\nhave of me a thousand dinars; and if not, two hundred for thy\npains.\" \"Do what seemeth good to thee,\" said I. So he called to\none of his slave-girls for inkhorn and paper and wrote the\nfollowing verses:\n\nBy Allah, O my lady, have ruth on me, I pray! For all my wit by\n     passion is ravished quite away.\nYea, love for thee and longing have mastered me and clad With\n     sickness and bequeathed me abjection and dismay.\nAforetime, O my lady, by love I set small store And deemed it\n     light and easy to bear, until to-day;\nBut now that Love hath shown me the billows of its sea, Those I\n     excuse, repenting, who languish neath its sway.\nVouchsafe thy grace to grant me; or, if thou wilt me slay, At\n     least, then, for thy victim forget thou not to pray.\n\nThen he sealed the letter and gave it to me. I took it and\nrepairing to Budour's house, raised the curtain of the door,\nlittle by little, as of wont, and looking in, saw ten damsels,\nhigh-bosomed maids, like moons, and the lady Budour sitting in\ntheir midst, as she were the full moon among stars or the sun,\nwhen it is clear of clouds; nor was there on her any trace of\npain or care. As I looked and marvelled at her case, she turned\nand seeing me standing at the gate, said to me, \"Welcome and\nfair welcome to thee, O Ibn Mensour! Come in.\" So I entered and\nsaluting her, gave her the letter. She read it and laughing,\nsaid to me, \"O Ibn Mensour, the poet lied not when he said:\n\nThe love of thee I will endure with patient constancy, Till\n     such time as a messenger shall come to me from thee.\n\nO Ibn Mensour,\" added she, \"I will write thee an answer that\nhe may give thee what he promised thee.\" \"May God requite thee\nwith good!\" answered I. So she called for inkhorn and paper and\nwrote the following verses:\n\nHow comes it my vows I fulfilled and thou, thou wast false to\n     thy plight? Thou sawst me do justice and truth, and yet\n     thou thyself didst unright.\n'Twas thou that begannest on me with rupture and rigour, I\n     trow; 'Twas thou that play'dst foul, and with thee began\n     the untruth and the slight.\nYea, still I was true to my troth and cherished but thee among\n     men And ceased not thine honour to guard and keep it\n     unsullied and bright,\nTill tidings of fashions full foul I heard, as reported of\n     thee, And saw with mine eyes what thou didst, to harm me\n     and work me despite.\nShall I then abase my estate, that thine may exalted become? By\n     God, hadst thou generous been, the like should thy conduct\n     requite!\nSo now unto solace I'll turn my heart, with forgetting, from\n     thee And washing my hands of thy thought, blot despair for\n     thee out of my spright.\n\n\"By Allah, O my lady,\" said I, \"there needs but the reading of\nthis letter, to kill him!\" So I tore it in pieces and said to\nher, \"Write him other than this.\" \"I hear and obey,\" answered\nshe and wrote the following:\n\nIndeed, I am consoled and sleep is pleasant to mine eyes; For I\n     have heard what came of prate of slanderers and spies.\nMy heart my summons hath obeyed, thee to forget; and eke My\n     lids to stint from wake for thee have seen it good and\n     wise.\nHe lies who says that severance is bitterness; for me I find\n     its taste none otherwise than sweet; indeed he lies.\nI've grown to turn away from those who bring me news of thee\n     And look upon it as a thing at which my gorge doth rise.\nBehold, I have forgotten thee with every part of me. Let then\n     the spy and who will else this know and recognise.\n\n\"By Allah, O my lady,\" said I, \"when he reads these verses, his\nsoul will depart his body!\" \"O Ibn Mensour,\" quoth she, \"is\npassion indeed come to such a pass with him as thou sayst?\"\n\"Had I said more than this,\" replied I, \"it were but the truth:\nbut clemency is of the nature of the noble.\" When she heard\nthis, her eyes filled with tears and she wrote him a letter, O\nCommander of the Faithful, there is none in thy court could\navail to write the like of it; and therein were these verses:\n\nHow long shall this despite continue and this pride? My enviers'\n     spite on me thou sure hast satisfied.\nMayhap, I did amiss and knew it not; so tell Me what thou heardst\n     of me, that did our loves divide.\nEven as I welcome sleep unto mine eyes and lids, So would I\n     welcome thee, beloved, to my side.\nI've quaffed the cup of love for thee, unmixed and pure; So, if\n     thou see me drunk, reproach me not nor chide.\n\nThen she sealed it and gave it to me; and I said, \"O my lady,\nthis thy letter will heal the sick and ease the thirsting soul.\"\nThen I took it and was going away, when she called me back and\nsaid to me, \"Tell me that I will be his guest this night.\" At\nthis I rejoiced greatly and carried the letter to Jubeir, whom I\nfound with his eyes fixed on the door, expecting the reply. I\ngave him the letter and he opened and read it, then gave a great\ncry and fell down in a swoon. When he came to himself, he said to\nme, \"O Ibn Mensour, did she indeed write this letter with her\nhand and touch it with her fingers?\" \"O my lord,\" answered I, \"do\nfolk write with their feet?\" And by Allah, O Commander of the\nFaithful, I had not done speaking, when we heard the chink of her\nanklets in the vestibule and she entered.\n\nWhen he saw her, he sprang to his feet, as thou there ailed him\nnought, and embraced her as the letter Lam embraces Alif,[FN#34]\nand the malady, that would not depart, ceased from him. Then he\nsat down, but she abode standing and I said to her, \"O my lady,\nwhy dost thou not sit?\" Quoth she, \"I will not sit, O Ibn\nMensour, save on a condition that is between us.\" \"And what is\nthat?\" asked I. \"None may know lovers' secrets,\" answered she and\nputting her mouth to Jubeir's ear, whispered to him; whereupon,\n\"I hear and obey,\" replied he and rising, said somewhat privily\nto one of his slaves, who went out and returned, in a little,\nwith a Cadi and two witnesses. Then Jubeir rose and taking a bag\ncontaining a hundred thousand dinars, said, \"O Cadi, marry me to\nthis young lady and write this sum to her dowry.\" Quoth the Cadi\nto her, \"Say, 'I consent to this.'\" \"I consent to this,\" said\nshe, whereupon he drew up the contract of marriage, and she\nopened the bag and taking out a handful of gold, gave it to the\nCadi and the witnesses and handed the rest to Jubeir.\n\nThen the Cadi and the witnesses withdrew, and I sat with them, in\nmirth and delight, till the most part of the night was past, when\nI said in myself, \"These are lovers and have been this long while\nseparated. I will go now and sleep in some place afar from them\nand leave them to be private, one with the other.\" So I rose, but\nshe laid hold of my skirts, saying, \"What thinkest thou to do?\"\n\"So and so,\" answered I. But she rejoined, \"Sit still, when we\nwould be rid of thee, we will send thee away.\" So I sat with them\ntill near daybreak, when she said to me, \"O Ibn Mensour, go to\nyonder chamber; for we have furnished it for thee, and it is thy\nsleeping-place.\" So I went thither and slept till morning, when a\npage brought me basin and ewer, and I made the ablution and\nprayed the morning-prayer. Then I sat down and presently, Jubeir\nand his mistress came out of the bath in the house, wringing\ntheir locks.\n\nI wished them good morning and gave them joy of their safety and\nreunion, saying to Jubeir, \"That which began with constraint hath\nended in contentment.\" \"Thou sayst well,\" replied he; \"and indeed\nthou deservest largesse.\" And he called his treasurer and bade\nhim fetch three thousand dinars. So he brought a purse containing\nthat sum, and Jubeir gave it to me, saying, \"Favour us by\naccepting this.\" \"I will not take it,\" answered I, \"till thou\ntell me the manner of the transfer of love from her to thee,\nafter so great an aversion.\" \"I hear and obey,\" said he. \"Know\nthat we have a festival, called the festival of the New Year,\nwhen all the people use to take boat and go a-pleasuring on the\nriver. So I went out, with my comrades, and saw a boat, wherein\nwere half a score damsels like moons, and amongst them, the lady\nBudour, with her lute in her hand. She preluded in eleven modes,\nthen returning to the first, sang the following verses:\n\nFire is not so fierce and so hot as the fires in my heart that\n     glow, And granite itself is less hard than the heart of my\n     lord, I trow.\nIndeed, when I think on his make and his fashion, I marvel to see\n     A heart that is harder than rock in a body that's softer\n     than snow.\n\nQuoth I to her, 'Repeat the verses and the air.' But she would\nnot; so I bade the boatmen pelt her with oranges, and they pelted\nher till we feared her boat would sink. Then she went her way,\nand this is how the love was transferred from her breast to\nmine.\" So I gave them joy of their reunion and taking the purse,\nwith its contents, returned to Baghdad.\n\nWhen the Khalif heard Ibn Mensour's story, his heart was\nlightened and the restlessness and oppression from which he\nsuffered forsook him.\n\n\n\n\n\n            THE MAN OF YEMEN AND HIS SIX SLAVE-GIRLS\n\n\n\nThe Khalif El-Mamoun was sitting one day in his palace,\nsurrounded by his grandees and officers of state, and there were\npresent also before him all his poets and minions, amongst the\nrest one named Mohammed of Bassora. Presently, the Khalif turned\nto the latter and said to him, 'O Mohammed, I wish thee to tell\nme something that I have never before heard.' 'O Commander of the\nFaithful,' answered Mohammed, 'shall I tell thee a thing that I\nhave heard with my ears of a thing that I have seen with my\neyes?' 'Tell me whichever is the rarer,' said El Mamoun.\n\n'Know then, O Commander of the Faithful,' began Mohammed, 'that\nthere lived once a wealthy man, who was a native of Yemen; but he\nleft his native land and came to this city of Baghdad, whose\nsojourn so pleased him that he transported hither his family and\npossessions. Now he had six slave-girls, the first fair, the\nsecond dark, the third fat, the fourth thin, the fifth yellow and\nthe sixth black, all fair of face and perfectly accomplished and\nskilled in the arts of singing and playing upon instruments of\nmusic. One day he sent for them all and called for meat and\ndrink; and they ate and drank and made merry. Then he filled the\ncup and taking it in his hand, said to the blonde, \"O new-moon-\nface, let us hear somewhat pleasing.\" So she took the lute and\ntuning it, made music thereon with such melodious trills and\nmodulations that the place danced to the rhythm; after which she\nplayed a lively measure and sang the following verses:\n\nI have a friend, whose form is mirrored in mine eye, And deep\n     within my breast, his name doth buried lie.\nWhenas I call him back to mind, I am all heart, And when on him I\n     gaze, all eyes indeed am I.\n\"Forswear the love of him,\" my censor says; and I, \"That which is\n     not to be, how shall it be?\" reply.\n\"Go forth from me,\" quoth I, \"and leave me, censor mine: Feign\n     not that eath and light, that's grievous to aby.\"\n\nAt this their master was moved to mirth and drinking off his cup,\ngave the damsels to drink, after which he said to the brunette,\n\"O light of the brasier[FN#35] and delight of souls, let us hear\nthy lovely voice, wherewith all that hearken are ravished.\" So\nshe took the lute and trilled upon it, till the place was moved\nto mirth; then, taking all hearts with her graceful bendings, she\nsang the following verses:\n\nAs thy face liveth, none but thee I'll love nor cherish e'er,\n     Till death, nor ever to thy love will I be false, I swear.\nO full moon, shrouded, as it were a veil, with loveliness, All\n     lovely ones on earth that be beneath thy banners fare.\nThou, that in pleasantness and grace excellest all the fair, May\n     God, the Lord of heaven and earth, be with thee everywhere!\n\nThe man was pleased and drank off his cup; after which he filled\nagain and taking the goblet in his hand, beckoned to the plump\ngirl and bade her sing and play. So she took the lute and\nstriking a grief-dispelling measure, sang as follows:\n\nIf but thy consent be assured, O thou who art all my desire, Be\n     all the folk angered 'gainst me; I set not a whit by their\n     ire.\nAnd if thou but show me thy face, thy brilliant and beautiful\n     face, I reck not if all the kings of the earth from my\n     vision retire.\nThy favour, O thou unto whom all beauty must needs be referred,\n     Of the goods and the sweets of the world is all that I seek\n     and require.\n\nThe man was charmed and emptying his cup, gave the girls to\ndrink. Then he beckoned to the slender girl and said to her, \"O\nhouri of Paradise, feed thou our ears with sweet sounds.\" So she\ntook the lute and tuning it, preluded and sang the following\nverses:\n\nIs it not martyrdom that I for thine estrangement dree, Seeing,\n     indeed, I cannot live, if thou depart from me?\nIs there no judge, in Love its law, to judge betwixt us twain, to\n     do me justice on thy head and take my wreak of thee?\n\nTheir lord rejoiced and emptying the cup, gave the girls to\ndrink. Then he signed to the yellow girl and said to her, \"O sun\nof the day, let us hear some pleasant verses.\" So she took the\nlute and preluding after the goodliest fashion, sang as follows:\n\nI have a lover, whenas I draw him nigh, He bares upon me a sword\n     from either eye.\nMay God avenge me some whit of him! For lo, He doth oppress me,\n     whose heart in 's hand doth lie.\nOft though, \"Renounce him, my heart,\" I say, yet it Will to none\n     other than him itself apply.\nHe's all I ask for, of all created things; Yet jealous Fortune\n     doth him to me deny.\n\nThe man rejoiced and drank and gave the girls to drink; then he\nfilled the cup and taking it in his hand, signed to the black\ngirl, saying, \"O apple of the eye, let us have a taste of thy\nfashion, though it be but two words.\" So she took the lute and\npreluded in various modes, then returned to the first and sang\nthe following verses to a lively air:\n\nO eyes, be large with tears and pour them forth amain, For, lo,\n     for very love my senses fail and wane.\nAll manner of desire I suffer for his sake I cherish, and my foes\n     make merry at my pain.\nMy enviers me forbid the roses of a cheek; And yet I have a heart\n     that is to roses fain.\nAy, once the cups went round with joyance and delight And to the\n     smitten lutes, the goblets did we drain,\nWhat time my love kept troth and I was mad for him And in faith's\n     heaven, the star of happiness did reign.\nBut lo, he turned away from me, sans fault of mine! Is there a\n     bitterer thing than distance and disdain?\nUpon his cheeks there bloom a pair of roses red, Blown ready to\n     be plucked; ah God, those roses twain!\nWere't lawful to prostrate oneself to any else Than God, I'd sure\n     prostrate myself upon the swain.\n\nThen rose the six girls and kissing the ground before their lord,\nsaid to him, \"Judge thou between us, O our lord!\" He looked at\ntheir beauty and grace and the difference of their colours and\npraised God the Most High and glorified Him: then said he, \"There\nis none of you but has read the Koran and learnt to sing and is\nversed in the chronicles of the ancients and the doings of past\npeoples; so it is my desire that each of you rise and pointing to\nher opposite, praise herself and dispraise her rival; that is to\nsay, let the blonde point to the black, the plump to the slender\nand the yellow to the brunette; and after, the latter shall, each\nin turn, do the like with the former; and be this illustrated\nwith citations from the Holy Koran and somewhat of anecdotes and\nverse, so as to show forth your culture and elegance of\ndiscourse.\" Quoth they, \"We hear and obey.\"\n\nSo the blonde rose first and pointing at the black, said to her,\n\"Out on thee, blackamoor! It is told that whiteness saith, 'I am\nthe shining light, I am the rising full moon.' My colour is\npatent and my forehead is resplendent, and of my beauty quoth the\npoet:\n\nA blonde with smooth and polished cheeks, right delicate and\n     fair, As if a pearl in beauty hid, as in a shell, she were.\nHer shape a splendid Alif[FN#36] is, her smile a medial\n     Mim[FN#37] And over it her eyebrows make inverted\n     Nouns,[FN#38] a pair.\nYes, and the glances of her eyes are arrows, and her brows A bow\n     that therewithal is horned with death and with despair.\nIf to her cheeks and shape thou pass, her cheeks are roses red,\n     Sweet basil, ay, and eglantine and myrtles rich and rare.\n'Tis of the saplings' wont, to be implanted in the meads But, in\n     the saplings of thy shape, how many meads are there!\n\nMy colour is like the wholesome day and the newly-gathered\norange-blossom and the sparkling star; and indeed quoth God the\nMost High, in His precious book, to His prophet Moses (on whom be\npeace), 'Put thy hand into thy bosom and it shall come forth\nwhite without hurt.'[FN#39] And again He saith, 'As for those\nwhose faces are made white, they are in the mercy of God and\ndwell for ever therein.'[FN#40] My colour is a miracle and my\ngrace an extreme and my beauty a term. It is in the like of me\nthat clothes show fair and to the like of me that hearts incline.\nMoreover, in whiteness are many excellences; for instance, the\nsnow falls white from heaven, and it is traditional that white is\nthe most beautiful of colours. The Muslims also glory in white\nturbans; but I should be tedious, were I to repeat all that may\nbe said in praise of white; little and enough is better than too\nmuch. So now I will begin with thy dispraise, O black, O colour\nof ink and blacksmith's dust, thou whose face is like the crow\nthat brings about lovers' parting! Verily, the poet saith in\npraise of white and dispraise of black:\n\nSeest not that for their milky hue white pearls in price excel\n     And charcoal for a groat a load the folk do buy and sell?\nAnd eke white faces, 'tis well known, do enter Paradise, Whilst\n     faces black appointed are to fill the halls of Hell.\n\nAnd indeed it is told in certain histories, related on the\nauthority of devout men, that Noah (on whom be peace) was\nsleeping one day, with his sons Ham and Shem seated at his head,\nwhen a wind sprang up and lifting his clothes, uncovered his\nnakedness; whereat Ham laughed and did not cover him; but Shem\nrose and covered him. Presently, Noah awoke and learning what had\npassed, blessed Shem and cursed Ham. So Shem's face was whitened\nand from him sprang the prophets and the orthodox Khalifs and\nKings; whilst Ham's face was blackened and he fled forth to the\nland of Ethiopia, and of his lineage came the blacks. All people\nare of a mind in affirming the lack of understanding of the\nblacks, even as saith the adage, 'How shall one find a black\nhaving understanding?'\"\n\nQuoth her master, \"It sufficeth; sit down, thou hast been\nprodigal.\" And he signed to the negress, who rose, and pointing\nat the blonde, said, \"Doth thou not know that, in the Koran sent\ndown to His prophet and apostle, is transmitted the saying of God\nthe Most High, 'By the night, when it veileth [the world with\ndarkness], and by the day, when it appeareth in all its\nglory!'[FN#41] If the night were not more illustrious than the\nday, why should God swear by it and give it precedence of the\nday? And indeed those of sense and understanding accept this.\nKnowst now that black [hair] is the ornament of youth and that,\nwhen whiteness descends upon the head, delights pass away and the\nhour of death draws nigh? Were not black the most illustrious of\nthings, God had not set it in the kernel of the heart and the\napple of the eye; and how excellent is the saying of the poet:\n\nAn if I cherish the dusky maids, this is the reason why; They\n     have the hue of the core of the heart and the apple of the\n     eye\nAnd youth; nor in error I eschew the whiteness of the blondes;\n     For 'tis the colour of hoary hair and shrouds in them shun\n     I.\n\nAnd that of another:\n\nThe brown, not the white, are first in my love And worthiest\n     eke to be loved of me,\nFor the colour of damask lips have they, Whilst the white have\n     the hue of leprosy.\n\nAnd of a third:\n\nBlack women, white of deeds, are like indeed to eyne That, though\n     jet-black they be, with peerless splendours shine.\nIf I go mad for her, be not amazed; for black The source of\n     madness is, when in the feminine.[FN#42]\n'Tis as my colour were the middle dark of night; For all no moon\n     it be, yet brings it light, in fine.\n\nMoreover, is the companying together of lovers good but in the\nnight? Let this quality and excellence suffice thee. What\nprotects lovers from spies and censors like the blackness of the\nshadows? And nought gives them cause to fear discovery like the\nwhiteness of the dawn. So, how many claims to honour are there\nnot in blackness and how excellent is the saying of the poet:\n\nI visit them, and the mirk of night doth help me to my will And\n     seconds me, but the white of dawn is hostile to me still.\n\nAnd that of another:\n\nHow many a night in joy I've passed with the beloved one, What\n     while the darkness curtained us about with tresses dun!\nWhenas the light of morn appeared, it struck me with affright,\n     And I to him, 'The Magians lie, who worship fire and sun.'\n\nAnd saith a third:\n\nHe came forth to visit me, shrouding himself in the cloak of the\n     night, And hastened his steps, as he wended, for caution and\n     fear and affright.\nThen rose I and laid in his pathway my cheek, as a carpet it\n     were, For abjection, and trailed o'er my traces my skirts,\n     to efface them from sight.\nBut lo, the new moon rose and shone, like a nail-paring cleft\n     from the nail, And all but discovered our loves with the\n     gleam of her meddlesome light.\nAnd then there betided between us what I'll not discover, i'\n     faith: So question no more of the matter and deem not of ill\n     or unright.\n\nAnd a fourth:\n\nForegather with thy lover, whilst night your loves may screen;\n     For that the sun's a telltale, the moon a go-between.\n\nAnd a fifth:\n\nI love not white women, with fat blown out and overlaid; The girl\n     of all girls for me is the slender dusky maid.\nLet others the elephant mount, if it like them; as for me, I'll\n     ride but the fine-trained colt on the day of the cavalcade.\n\nAnd a sixth:\n\nMy loved one came to me by night And we did clip and interlace\nAnd lay together through the dark; But, lo, the morning broke\n     apace.\nTo God, my Lord, I pray that He Will reunite us of His grace\nAnd make night last to me, what while I hold my love in my\n     embrace.\n\nWere I to set forth all the praise of blackness, I should be\ntedious; but little and enough is better than great plenty and\ntoo much. As for thee, O blonde, thy colour is that of leprosy\nand thine embrace is suffocation; and it is of report that frost\nand intense cold[FN#43] are in Hell for the torment of the\nwicked. Again, of black things is ink, wherewith is written the\nword of God; and were is not for black ambergris and black musk,\nthere would be no perfumes to carry to kings. How many glories\nare there not in blackness and how well saith the poet:\n\nDost thou not see that musk, indeed, is worth its weight in gold,\n     Whilst for a dirhem and no more a load of lime is sold?\nBlack eyes cast arrows at men's hearts; but whiteness of the\n     eyes, In man, is judged of all to be unsightly to behold.\"\n\n\"It sufficeth,\" said her master. \"Sit down.\" So she sat down and\nhe signed to the fat girl, who rose and pointing at the slim\ngirl, uncovered her arms and legs and bared her stomach, showing\nits creases and the roundness of her navel. Then she donned a\nshift of fine stuff, that showed her whole body, and said,\n\"Praised be God who created me, for that He beautified my face\nand made me fat and fair and likened me to branches laden with\nfruit and bestowed upon me abounding beauty and brightness; and\npraised be He no less, for that He hath given me the precedence\nand honoured me, when He speaks of me in His holy book! Quoth the\nMost High, 'And he brought a fat calf.'[FN#44] And indeed He hath\nmade me like unto an orchard, full of peaches and pomegranates.\nVerily, the townsfolk long for fat birds and eat of them and love\nnot lean birds; so do the sons of Adam desire fat meat and eat of\nit. How many precious attributes are there not in fatness, and\nhow well saith the poet:\n\nTake leave of thy love, for the caravan, indeed, is on the\n     start. O man, canst thou bear to say farewell and thus\n     from her to part?\n'Tis as her going were, I trow, but to her neighbour's house,\n     The faultless gait of a fat fair maid, that never tires\n     the heart.\n\nSawst thou ever one stop at a butcher's stall, but sought fat\nmeat of him? The wise say, 'Pleasure is in three things, eating\nflesh and riding on flesh and the thrusting of flesh into\nflesh.' As for thee, O thin one, thy legs are like sparrow's\nlegs or pokers, and thou art like a cruciform plank or a piece\nof poor meat; there is nought in thee to gladden the heart;\neven as saith of thee the poet:\n\nNow God forfend that aught enforce me take for bedfellow A\n     woman like a foot-rasp, wrapt in palm-fibres and tow!\nIn every limb she has a horn, that butts me in my sleep, So\n     that at day-break, bruised and sore, I rise from her and\n     go.\"\n\n\"It is enough,\" quoth her master. \"Sit down.\" So she sat down\nand he signed to the slender girl, who rose, as she were a\nwillow-wand or a bamboo-shoot or a plant of sweet basil, and\nsaid, \"Praised be God who created me and beautified me and made\nmy embraces the end of all desire and likened me to the branch,\nto which all hearts incline. If I rise, I rise lightly; if\nI sit, I sit with grace; I am nimble-witted at a jest and\nsweeter-souled than cheerfulness [itself]. Never heard I one\ndescribe his mistress, saying, 'My beloved is the bigness of an\nelephant or like a long wide mountain;' but rather, 'My lady\nhath a slender waist and a slim shape.'\n\nA little food contents me and a little water stays my thirst;\nmy sport is nimble and my habit elegant; for I am sprightlier\nthan the sparrow and lighter-footed than the starling. My\nfavours are the desire of the longing and the delight of the\nseeker; for I am goodly of shape, sweet of smile and graceful\nas the willow-wand or the bamboo-cane of the basil-plant; nor\nis there any can compare with me in grace, even as saith one of\nme:\n\nThy shape unto the sapling liken I And set my hope to win thee or\n     to die.\nDistraught, I follow thee, and sore afraid, Lest any look on thee\n     with evil eye.\n\nIt is for the like of me that lovers run mad and that the longing\nare distracted. If my lover be minded to draw me to him, I am\ndrawn to him, and if he would have me incline to him, I incline\nto him and not against him. But as for thee, O fat of body, thine\neating is as that of an elephant, and neither much not little\ncontents thee. When thou liest with a man, he hath no ease of\nthee, nor can he find a way to take his pleasure of thee; for the\nbigness of thy belly holds him off from clipping thee and the\ngrossness of thy thighs hinders him from coming at thy kaze. What\ncomeliness is there in thy grossness and what pleasantness or\ncourtesy in thy coarse nature? Fat meat is fit for nought but\nslaughter, nor is there aught therein that calls for praise. If\none joke with thee, thou art angry; if one sport with thee, thou\nart sulky; if thou sleep, thou snorest; if thou walk, thou\npantest; if thou eat, thou art never satisfied. Thou art heavier\nthan mountains and fouler than corruption and sin. Thou hast in\nthee nor movement nor blessing nor thinkest of aught but to eat\nand sleep. If thou make water, thou scatterest; if thou void,\nthou gruntest like a bursten wine-skin or a surly elephant. If\nthou go to the draught-house, thou needest one to wash out thy\nprivy parts and pluck out the hairs; and this is the extreme of\nlaziness and the sign of stupidity. In fine, there is no good\nthing in thee, and indeed the poet saith of thee:\n\nHeavy and swollen with fat, like a blown-out water-skin, With\n     thighs like the pillars of stone that buttress a mountain's\n     head,\nLo, if she walk in the West, so cumbrous her corpulence is The\n     Eastern hemisphere hears the sound of her heavy tread.\"\n\nQuoth her master, \"It is enough: sit down.\" So she sat down and\nhe signed to the yellow girl, who rose to her feet and praised\nGod and magnified His name, calling down peace and blessing on\nthe best of His creatures;[FN#45] after which she pointed at the\nbrunette and said to her, \"I am praised in the Koran, and the\nCompassionate One hath described my colour and its excellence\nover all others in His manifest Book, where He saith, 'A yellow\n[heifer], pure yellow, whose colour rejoices the beholders.'\n[FN#46] Wherefore my colour is a portent and my grace an extreme\nand my beauty a term; for that my colour is the colour of a dinar\nand of the planets and moons and of apples. My fashion is the\nfashion of the fair, and the colour of saffron outvies all\nother colours; so my fashion is rare and my colour wonderful. I\nam soft of body, and of great price, comprising all attributes of\nbeauty. My colour, in that which exists, is precious as virgin\ngold, and how many glorious qualities are there not in me! Of the\nlike of me quoth the poet:\n\nYellow she is, as is the sun that shineth in the sky, And like to\n     golden dinars, eke, to see, her beauties are.\nNor with her brightness, anywise, can saffron hold compare, And\n     even the very moon herself her charms outvie by far.\n\nAnd now I will begin in thy dispraise, O brown of favour! Thy\ncolour is that of the buffalo, and all souls shudder at thy\nsight. If thy colour be in aught, it is blamed; if it be in food,\nit is poisoned; for thy colour is that of flies and is a mark of\nugliness in dogs. It is, among colours, one which strikes with\namazement and is of the signs of mourning. Never heard I of brown\ngold or brown pearls or brown jewels. If thou enter the wardrobe,\nthy colour changes, and when thou comest out, thou addest a new\nugliness to thine ugliness. Thou art neither black, that thou\nmayst be known, nor white, that thou mayst be described; and\nthere is no good quality in thee, even as saith of thee the poet:\n\nAs a complexion unto her, the hue of soot doth serve; Her mirky\n     colour is as dust on couriers' feet upcast.\nNo sooner fall mine eyes on her, thou but a moment's space, Than\n     troubles and misgivings straight beset me thick and fast.\"\n\n\"Enough,\" said her master. \"Sit down.\" So she sat down and he\nsigned to the brunette. Now she was endowed with grace and beauty\nand symmetry and perfection, delicate of body, with coal-back\nhair, slender shape, rosy, oval cheeks, liquid black eyes, fair\nface, eloquent tongue, slim waist and heavy buttocks. So she rose\nand said, \"Praised be God who hath created me neither blameably\nfat nor lankily slender, neither white like leprosy nor yellow\nlike colic nor black like coal, but hath made my colour to be\nbeloved of men of wit; for all the poets praise brunettes in\nevery tongue and exalt their colour over all others. Brown of\nhue, praiseworthy of qualities; and God bless him who saith:\n\nIn the brunettes a meaning is, couldst read its writ aright,\n     Thine eyes would never again look on others, red or white.\nFree-flowing speech and amorous looks would teach Harout[FN#47]\n     himself The arts of sorcery and spells of magic and of\n     might.\n\nAnd saith another:\n\nGive me brunettes; the Syrian spears, so limber and so\n     straight, Tell of the slender dusky maids, so lithe and\n     proud of gait.\nLanguid of eyelids, with a down like silk upon her cheek,\n     Within her wasting lover's heart she queens it still in\n     state.\n\nAnd yet another:\n\nYea, by my life, such virtues in goodly brownness lie, One spot\n     thereof makes whiteness the shining moons outvie;\nBut if the like of whiteness is borrowed, then, for sure, Its\n     beauty were transmuted unto reproach thereby.\nNot with her wine[FN#48] I'm drunken, but with her\n     tresses[FN#49] bright That make all creatures drunken that\n     dwell beneath the sky.\nEach of her charms doth envy the others; yea, and each To be\n     the down so silky upon her cheek doth sigh.\n\nAnd again:\n\nWhy should I not incline me unto the silken down On the cheeks\n     of a dusky maiden, like the cane straight and brown,\nSeeing the spot of beauty in waterlilies' cups Is of the poets\n     fabled to be all beauty's crown?\nYea, and I see all lovers the swarthy-coloured mole, Under the\n     ebon pupil, do honour and renown.\nWhy, then, do censors blame me for loving one who's all A mole?\n     May Allah rid me of every railing clown!\n\nMy form is beautiful and my shape slender; kings desire my colour\nand all love it, rich and poor. I am pleasant, nimble, handsome,\nelegant, soft of body and great of price. I am perfect in beauty\nand breeding and eloquence; my aspect is comely and my tongue\nfluent, my habit light and my sport graceful. As for thee,\n[O yellow girl,] thou art like unto a mallow of Bab el Louc,\nyellow and made all of sulphur. Perdition to thee, O pennyworth\nof sorrel, O rust of copper, O owl's face and food of the damned!\nThy bedfellow, for oppression of spirit, is buried in the tombs,\nand there is no good thing in thee, even as saith the poet of the\nlike of thee:\n\nPaleness[FN#50] is sore on her, for all no illness doth her\n     fret; My breast is straitened by its sight; ay, and my\n     head aches yet.\nIf thou repent thee not, my soul, to punish thee, I vow, I'll\n     humble thee with a kiss of her face, my teeth on edge\n     shall set.\"\n\n\"Enough,\" said her master; \"sit down.\" Then he made peace\nbetween them and clad them all in sumptuous dresses of honour\nand handselled them with precious jewels of land and sea. And\nnever, O Commander of the Faithful, in any place or time have I\nseen fairer than these six fair damsels.'\n\nWhen the Khalif El Mamoun heard this story from Mohammed of Bassora,\nhe said to him, 'O Mohammed, knowest thou the abiding-place of\nthese damsels and their master, and canst thou make shift to buy\nthem of him for us?' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered he,\n'I have heard that their master is wrapped up in them and cannot\nendure to be parted from them.' 'Take threescore thousand dinars,\n--that is, ten thousand for each girl,--' rejoined the Khalif,\n'and go to his house and buy them of him.' So Mohammed took the\nmoney and betaking himself to the man of Yemen, acquainted him\nwith the Khalif's wish. He consented to sell them at that price,\nto pleasure him, and despatched them to El Mamoun, who assigned\nthem an elegant lodging and used to sit with them therein,\nmarvelling at their beauty and grace, no less than at their varied\ncolours and the excellence of their speech.\n\nAfter awhile, when their former owner could no longer endure separation\nfrom them, he sent a letter to the Khalif, complaining of his ardent\nlove for them and containing, amongst the rest, the following verses:\n\nSix damsels fair and bright have captivated me; My blessing and\n     my peace the six fair maidens greet!\nMy life, indeed, are they, my hearing and my sight, Yea, and my\n     very drink, my pleasance and my meat.\nNo other love can bring me solace for their charms, And\n     slumber, after them, no more to me is sweet.\nAlas, my long regret, my weeping for their loss! Would I have\n     ne'er been born, to know this sore defeat!\nFor eyes, bedecked and fair with brows like bended bows, Have\n     smitten me to death with arrows keen and fleet.\n\nWhen the letter came to El Mamoun's hands, he clad the six\ndamsels in rich apparel and giving them threescore thousand\ndinars, sent them back to their master, who rejoiced in them\nwith an exceeding joy,--more by token of the money they brought\nhim,--and abode with them in all delight and pleasance of life,\ntill there came to them the Destroyer of Delights and the\nSunderer of Companies.\n\n\n\n\n\n              HAROUN ER RASHID AND THE DAMSEL AND\n                          ABOU NUWAS.\n\n\n\nThe Khalif Haroun er Reshid, being one night exceeding restless\nand oppressed with melancholy thought, went out and walked\nabout his palace, till he came to a chamber, over whose doorway\nhung a curtain. He raised the curtain and saw, at the upper end\nof the room, a bed, on which lay something black, as it were a\nman asleep, with a candle on his right hand and another on his\nleft and by his side a flagon of old wine, over against which\nstood the cup. The Khalif wondered at this, saying, 'How came\nyonder black by this wine-service?' Then, drawing near the bed,\nhe found that it was a girl asleep there, veiled with her hair,\nand uncovering her face, saw that it was like the moon on the\nnight of her full. So he filled a cup of wine and drank it to\nthe roses of her cheeks; then bent over her and kissed a mole\non her face, whereupon she awoke and cried out, saying, 'O\nTrusty One of God,[FN#51], what is to do?' 'A guest who knocks\nat thy dwelling by night,' replied the Khalif, '[hoping] that\nthou wilt give him hospitality till the dawn.' 'It is well,'\nanswered she; 'I will grace the guest with my hearing and my\nsight.'\n\nSo she brought the wine and they drank it together; after which\nshe took the lute and tuning it, preluded in one-and-twenty\nmodes, then returning to the first, struck a lively measure and\nsang the following verses:\n\nThe tongue of passion in my heart bespeaks thee for my soul,\n     Telling I love thee with a love that nothing can control.\nI have an eye, that testifies unto my sore disease, And eke a\n     heart with parting wrung, a-throb for love and dole.\nIndeed, I cannot hide the love that frets my life away; Longing\n     increases still on me, my tears for ever roll.\nAh me, before the love of thee, I knew not what love was; But\n     God's decree must have its course on every living soul.\n\nThen said she, 'O Commander of the Faithful, I am a wronged\nwoman.' 'How so?' quoth he, 'and who hath wronged thee?' She\nanswered, 'Thy son bought me awhile ago, for ten thousand\ndirhems, meaning to give me to thee; but the daughter of thine\nuncle[FN#52] sent him the price aforesaid and bade him shut me\nup from thee in this chamber.' Whereupon, 'Ask a boon of me,'\nsaid the Khalif; and she, 'I ask thee to lie to-morrow night\nwith me.' 'If it be the will of God,' replied the Khalif, and\nleaving her, went away.\n\nNext morning, he repaired to his sitting-room and called for\nAbou Nuwas, but found him not and sent his chamberlain to seek\nfor him. The chamberlain found him in pawn, in a tavern, for a\nscore of a thousand dirhems, that he had spent on a certain\nboy, and questioned him. So he told him what had befallen him\nwith the boy and how he had spent a thousand dirhems upon him;\nwhereupon quoth the chamberlain, 'Show him to me; and if he be\nworth this, thou art excused.' 'Wait awhile,' replied the poet,\n'and thou shalt see him presently.' As they were talking, up\ncame the boy, clad in a white tunic, under which was another of\nred and yet another of black. When Abou Nuwas saw him, he\nsighed and repeated the following verses:\n\nTo me he appeared in a garment of white, His eyes and his\n     eyelids with languor bedight.\nQuoth I, \"Dost thou pass and salutest me not? Though God knows\n     thy greeting were sweet to my spright.\nBe He blessed who mantled with roses thy cheeks, Who creates,\n     without let, what He will, of His might!\"\n\"Leave prating,\" he answered; \"for surely my Lord Is wondrous\n     of working, sans flaw or dissight.\nYea, truly, my garment is even as my face And my fortune, each\n     white upon white upon white.\"\n\nWhen the boy heard this, he put off the white tunic and\nappeared in the red one; whereupon Abou Nuwas redoubled in\nexpressions of admiration and repeated the following verses:\n\nAppeared in a garment, the colour of flame, A foeman of mine,\n     \"The beloved,\" by name.\n\"Thou'rt a full moon,\" I said in my wonder, \"And com'st In a\n     garment that putteth the roses to shame.\nHath the red of thy cheek clad that vest upon thee Or in\n     heart's blood of lovers hast tinctured the same?\"\nQuoth he, \"'Twas the sun lately gave me the wede; From the\n     rubicund hue of his setting it came.\nSo my garment and wine and the colour so clear Of my cheek are\n     as flame upon flame upon flame.\"\n\nThen the boy doffed the red tunic and abode in the black;\nwhereupon Abou Nuwas redoubled in attention to him and repeated\nthe following verses:\n\nHe came in a tunic all sable of hue And shone out, thus veiled\n     in the dark, to men's view.\n\"Thou passest,\" quoth I, \"without greeting, and thus Givest\n     cause to exult to the rancorous crew.\nThy garment resembles thy locks and my lot, Yea, blackness and\n     blackness and blackness thereto.\"\n\nThen the chamberlain returned to Haroun er Reshid and\nacquainted him with the poet's predicament, whereupon he bade\nhim take a thousand dirhems and go and take him out of pawn. So\nhe returned to Abou Nuwas and paying his score, carried him to\nthe Khalif, who said, 'Make me some verses containing the\nwords, \"O Trusty One of God, what is to do?\"' 'I hear and obey,\nO Commander of the Faithful,' answered he and improvised the\nfollowing verses:\n\nMy night was long for sleeplessness and care. Weary I was and\n     many my thoughts were.\nI rose and walked awhile in my own place, Then midst the\n     harem's cloistered courts did fare,\nUntil I chanced on somewhat black and found It was a damsel\n     shrouded in her hair.\nGod bless her for a shining moon! Her shape A willow-wand, and\n     pudour veiled the fair.\nI quaffed a cup to her; then, drawing near, I kissed the mole\n     upon her cheek so rare.\nShe woke and swayed about in her amaze, Even as the branch\n     sways in the rain-fraught air;\nThen rose and said, \"O Trusty One of God, What is to do, and\n     thou, what dost thou there?\"\n\"A guest\", quoth I, \"that sues to thee, by night, For shelter\n     till the hour of morning-prayer.\"\n\"Gladly,\" she said; \"with hearing and with sight To grace the\n     guest, my lord, I will not spare.\"\n\n'Confound thee!' cried the Khalif. 'It is as if thou hadst been\npresent with us.' Then he took him by the hand and carried him\nto the damsel, who was clad in a dress and veil of blue. When\nAbou Nuwas saw her, he was profuse in expressions of admiration\nand recited the following verses:\n\nSay to the lovely maid, i' the veil of azure dight, \"By Allah,\n     O my life, have pity on my plight!\nFor when the fair entreats her lover cruelly, Sighs of all\n     longing rend his bosom day and night.\nSo, by thy charms and by the whiteness of thy cheek, Have ruth\n     upon a heart for love consumed outright.\nIncline to him and be his stay 'gainst stress of love, Nor let\n     what fools may say find favour in thy sight.\"\n\nThen the damsel set wine before the Khalif and taking the lute,\nplayed a lively measure and sang the following verses:\n\nWilt thou be just in thy love to others and deal with me\n     Unjustly and put me away, while others have joy in thee?\nWere there for lovers a judge, to whom I might complain Of\n     thee, he would do me justice and judge with equity.\nIf thou forbid me to pass thy door, yet from afar To greet thee\n     and to bless, at least, I shall be free.\n\nThe Khalif bade her ply Abou Nuwas with wine, till he lost his\nwits; when he gave him a full cup, and he drank a draught of it\nand held the cup in his hand. Er Reshid bade the girl take the\ncup from him and conceal it; so she took it and hid it between\nher thighs. Then he drew his sword and standing at the poet's\nhead, pricked him with the point; whereupon he awoke and saw\nthe Khalif standing over him, with a drawn sword. At this sight\nthe fumes of the wine fled from his head and the Khalif said to\nhim, 'Make me some verses and tell me therein what is come of\nthy cup; or I will cut off thy head.' So he improvised the\nfollowing verses:\n\nMy tale, indeed is hard to tell: The thief was none but yon\n     gazelle.\nShe stole my cup of wine, whereof My lips had drunken but one\n     spell,\nAnd hid it in a place, for which My heart's desire's\n     unspeakable.\nI name it not, for awe of him, In whom the right thereof doth\n     dwell.\n\n'Confound thee!' quoth the Khalif. 'How knewst thou that? But\nwe accept what thou sayst.' Then he ordered him a dress of\nhonour and a thousand dinars, and he went away, rejoicing.\n\n\n\n\n\n             THE MAN WHO STOLE THE DISH OF GOLD IN\n                      WHICH THE DOG ATE.\n\n\n\nThere was once a man, who was overborne with debt, and his case\nwas straitened upon him, so that he left his people and family\nand went forth in distraction. He wandered on at random till he\ncame to a high-walled and splendidly built city and entered it\nin a state of wretchedness and despair, gnawed with hunger and\nworn with the toil of his journey. As he passed through one of\nthe streets, he saw a company of notables going along; so he\nfollowed them, till they entered a house like to a royal\npalace. He entered with them, and they stayed not till they\ncame in presence of a man of the most dignified and majestic\naspect, seated at the upper end of a saloon and surrounded by\npages and servants, as he were of the sons of the Viziers. When\nhe saw the visitors, he rose and received them with honour; but\nthe poor man was confounded at the goodliness of the place and\nthe crowd of servants and attendants and drawing back, in fear\nand perplexity, sat down apart in a place afar off, where none\nshould see him.\n\nAfter awhile, in came a man with four hunting-dogs, clad in\nvarious kinds of silk and brocade and having on their necks\ncollars of gold with chains of silver, and tied up each dog in a\nplace set apart for him; after which he went out and presently\nreturned with four dishes of gold, full of rich meats, one of\nwhich he set before each dog. Then he went away and left them,\nwhilst the poor man began to eye the food, for stress of hunger,\nand would fain have gone up to one of the dogs and eaten with\nhim; but fear of them withheld him. Presently, one of the\ndogs looked at him and God the Most High inspired him with a\nknowledge of his case; so he drew back from the platter and\nbeckoned to the man, who came and ate, till he was satisfied.\nThen he would have withdrawn, but the dog pushed the dish\ntowards him with his paw, signing to him to take it and what\nwas left in it for himself. So the man took the dish and\nleaving the house, went his way, and none followed him. Then\nhe journeyed to another city, where he sold the dish and buying\ngoods with the price, returned to his own town. There he sold\nhis stock and paid his debts; and he prospered and became rich\nand at his ease.\n\nAfter some years had passed, he said to himself, 'Needs must I\nrepair to the city of the owner of the dish, which the dog\nbestowed on me, and carry him its price, together with a fit\nand handsome present.' So he took the price of the dish and a\nsuitable present and setting out, journeyed night and day, till\nhe came to the city and entering, went straight to the place\nwhere the man's house had been; but lo, he found there nothing\nbut mouldering ruins and dwelling-places laid waste, over which\nthe raven croaked; for the place was desert and the environs\nchanged out of knowledge. At this, his heart and soul were\ntroubled and he repeated the words of him who saith:\n\nThe privy chambers are void of all their hidden store, As\n     hearts of the fear of God and the virtues all of yore.\nChanged is the vale and strange to me are its gazelles, And\n     those I knew of old its sandhills are no more.\n\nAnd those of another:\n\nThe phantom of Saada came to me by night, near the break of\n     day, And roused me, whenas my comrades all in the desert\n     sleeping lay.\nBut, when I awoke to the dream of the night, that came to visit\n     me, I found the air void and the wonted place of our\n     rendezvous far away.\n\nWhen he saw what the hand of time had manifestly done with the\nplace, leaving but traces of the things that had been aforetime,\nthe testimony of his eyes made it needless for him to enquire\nof the case; so he turned away and seeing a wretched man, in\na plight that made the skin quake and would have moved the\nvery rock to pity, said to him, 'Harkye, sirrah! What have\ntime and fortune done with the master of this place? Where are\nhis shining full moons[FN#53] and splendid stars;[FN#54] and\nwhat is the cause of the ruin that is come upon his abode, so\nthat but the walls thereof remain?' Quoth the other, 'He is the\nmiserable wretch thou seest bewailing that which hath befallen\nhim. Knowest thou not the words of the Prophet (whom God bless\nand preserve), wherein is a lesson to him who will profit by it\nand an admonition to whoso will be guided thereby in the right\nway? \"Verily it is the way of God the Most High to raise up\nnothing of this world, except He cast it down again.\" If thou\nenquire of the cause of this thing, indeed, it is no wonder,\nconsidering the vicissitudes of fortune. I was the master of\nthis place and its builder and founder and owner and lord of\nits shining full moons and radiant damsels and of all its\nsplendid circumstance an magnificent garniture; but Fortune\nturned and did away from me wealth and servants, overwhelming\nme unawares with disasters unforeseen and bringing me to this\nsorry plight. But there must needs be some reason for this thy\nquestion: tell it me and leave wondering.'\n\nSo the other told him the whole story, sore concerned at what\nhe heard and saw, and added, 'I have brought thee a present\nsuch as souls desire, and the price of thy dish of gold, that I\ntook; for it was the cause of my becoming rich, after poverty,\nand of the reinstating of my dwelling-place, after desolation,\nand of the doing away of my trouble and straitness from me.'\nBut the poor man shook his head, groaning and weeping and\nlamenting, and answered, 'O man, methinks thou art mad; for\nthis is not the fashion of a man of understanding. How should a\ndog of mine make gift to thee of a dish of gold and I receive\nback its price? This were indeed a strange thing! By Allah,\nwere I in the straitest misery and unease, I would not accept\nof thee aught, no, not the worth of a nail-paring! So return\nwhence thou camest, in health and safety.'\n\nThe merchant kissed his feet and taking leave of him, returned\nwhence he came, praising him and reciting the following verse:\n\nThe men and eke the dogs are gone and vanished all. Peace be\n     upon the men and dogs, whate'er befall!\n\n\n\n\n\n               THE SHARPER OF ALEXANDRIA AND THE\n                       MASTER OF POLICE.\n\n\n\nThere was once, in the coast-fortress of Alexandria, a Master\nof Police, Husameddin by name, who was one night sitting in his\nseat of office, when there came in to him a trooper, who said\nto him, 'Know, O my lord, that I entered the city this night\nand alighted at such a khan and slept there, till a third part\nof the night was past, when I awoke and found my saddle-bags\ncut open and a purse of a thousand dinars stolen from them.' No\nsooner had he done speaking than the magistrate called his\nofficers and bade them lay hands on all in the khan and clap\nthem in prison till the morning; and on the morrow, he caused\nbring the instruments of torment and sending for the prisoners,\nwas about to torture them, [to make them confess], in the\npresence of the owner of the stolen money, when, behold, a man\npressed through the crowd and coming up to the chief of the\npolice, said, 'O Amir, let these folk go, for they are wrongly\naccused. It was I who robbed the trooper, and here is the purse\nI stole from his saddle-bags.' So saying, he pulled out the\npurse from his sleeve and laid it before Husameddin, who said\nto the soldier, 'Take thy money; thou hast no ground of\ncomplaint now against the people of the khan.' Thereupon the\nlatter and all who were present fell to blessing the thief and\npraising him; but he said, 'O Amir, the skill is not in that I\ncame to thee and brought thee the purse, but in taking it a\nsecond time from the trooper.' 'And how didst thou take it, O\nsharper?' asked Husameddin.\n\n'O Amir,' replied the thief, 'I was standing in the\nmoney-changers' bazaar at Cairo, when I saw yonder man receive\nthe gold and put it in his purse; so I followed him from street\nto street, but found no occasion of stealing it from him. Then\nhe left Cairo and I followed him from place to place, casting\nabout by the way to rob him, but without avail, till he entered\nthis city and I followed him to the khan. I took up my lodging\nbeside him and watched him till he fell asleep and I heard him\nsnoring, when I went softly up to him and cutting open his\nsaddlebags with this knife, took the purse thus--'\n\nSo saying, he put out his hand and took the purse from before\nthe chief of the police, whilst the latter and the trooper and\nthe folk drew back, watching him and thinking he would show them\nhow he took the purse from the saddle-bags; but, of a sudden,\nhe broke into a run and threw himself into a reservoir hard by.\nThe chief of the police called to his officers to pursue him,\nbut before they could put off their clothes and descend the\nsteps, he had made off; and they sought for him, but found him\nnot; for the streets of Alexandria all communicate one with\nanother. So they came back, empty-handed, and the chief of the\npolice said to the trooper, 'Thou hast no recourse against the\nfolk; for thou foundest him who robbed thee and receivedst back\nthy money, but didst not keep it.' So the trooper went away,\nhaving lost his money, whilst the folk were delivered from his\nhands and those of the chief of the police; and all this was of\nthe favour of God the Most High.\n\n\n\n\n\n            EL MELIK EN NASIR AND THE THREE MASTERS\n                          OF POLICE.\n\n\n\nEl Melik en Nasir[FN#55] once sent for the chiefs of the police\nof New Cairo, Boulac and Old Cairo and said to them, 'I wish\neach of you to tell me the most remarkable thing that hath\nbefallen him during his term of office.' 'We hear and obey,'\nanswered they. Then said the chief of the police of New Cairo,\n'O our lord the Sultan, the most remarkable thing that befell\nme, during my term of office, was on this wise:\n\n\n\n\n\nStory of the Chief of the Police of New Cairo.\n\n\n\nThere were once, in this city, two men apt to bear witness in\nmatters of blood and wounds; but they were both given to wine\nand women and debauchery; nor, do what I would, could I succeed\nin bringing them to account. So I charged the vintners and\nconfectioners and fruiterers and chandlers and bagnio-keepers\nto acquaint me of these two, when ever they should anywhere be\nengaged in drinking or debauchery, whether together or apart,\nand that, if they or either of them bought of them aught for\nthe purpose of carousal, they should not conceal it from me.\nAnd they replied, \"We hear and obey.\"\n\nOne night, a man came to me and said, \"O my lord, know that the\ntwo witnesses are in such a house in such a street, engaged\nin sore wickedness.\" So I disguised myself and went out,\naccompanied by none but my page, to the street in question.\nWhen I came to the house, I knocked at the door, whereupon a\nslave-girl came out and opened to me, saying, \"Who art thou?\" I\nmade her no answer, but entered and saw the two witnesses and\nthe master of the house sitting, and lewd women with them, and\ngreat plenty of wine before them. When they saw me, they rose to\nreceive me, without showing the least alarm, and made much of me,\nseating me in the place of honour and saying to me, \"Welcome for\nan illustrious guest and a pleasant cup-companion!\"\n\nPresently, the master of the house went out and returning after\nawhile with three hundred dinars, said to me, without the least\nfear, \"O my lord, it is, we know, in thy power both to disgrace\nand punish us; but this will bring thee nothing but weariness.\nSo thou wouldst do better to take this money and protect us;\nfor God the Most High is named the Protector and loveth those\nof His servants who protect each other; and thou shalt have thy\nreward in the world to come.\" The money tempted me and I said\nin myself, \"I will take the money and protect them this once;\nbut, if ever again I have them in my power, I will take my\nwreak of them.\"\n\nSo I took the money and went away; but, next day, one of the\nCadi's serjeants came to me and cited me before the court. I\naccompanied him thither, knowing not the meaning of the\nsummons; and when I came into the Cadi's presence, I saw the\ntwo witnesses and the master of the house sitting by him. The\nlatter rose and sued me for three hundred dinars, nor was it in\nmy power to deny the debt; for he produced a written obligation\nand the two others testified against me that I owed the amount.\n\nTheir evidence satisfied the Cadi and he ordered me to pay the\nmoney; nor did I leave the Court till they had of me the three\nhundred dinars. So I went away, in the utmost wrath and\nconfusion, vowing vengeance against them and repenting that I\nhad not punished them.'\n\nThen rose the chief of the Boulac police and said, 'As for me,\nO our lord the Sultan, the most remarkable thing that befell\nme, during my term of office, was as follows:\n\n\n\n\n\nStory of the Chief of the Boulac Police.\n\n\n\nI was once in debt to the amount of three hundred thousand\ndinars, and being distressed thereby, I sold what was behind me\nand what was before me and all I could lay my hands on, but\ncould raise no more than a hundred thousand dinars and abode in\ngreat perplexity. One night, as I sat at home, in this state of\nmind, there came a knocking at the gate; so I said to one of my\nservants, \"See who is at the door.\" He went out and returned,\npale and trembling in every nerve; so I said to him, \"What ails\nthee?\" \"There is a man at the door, seeking thee,\" answered he.\n\"He is half naked, clad in skins, with a sword and a knife in\nhis girdle, and with him are a company of the same fashion.\" So\nI took my sword and going out to see who these were, found them\nas the boy had reported and said to them, \"What is your\nbusiness?\" \"We are thieves,\" answered they, \"and have made\ngreat purchase to-night and appointed it to thy use, that thou\nmayst pay therewith the debts that oppress thee and free\nthyself from thy distress.\" \"Where is it?\" asked I; and they\nbrought me a great chest, full of vessels of gold and silver;\nwhich when I saw, I rejoiced and said in myself, \"It were\nungenerous to let them go away empty-handed.\"\n\nSo I took the hundred thousand dinars I had by me and gave it\nto them, thanking them; and they took it and went their way,\nunder cover of the night. But, on the morrow, when I examined\nthe contents of the chest, I found them gilded brass and\npewter, worth five hundred dirhems at the most; and this was\ngrievous to me, for I had lost what money I had, and trouble\nwas added to my trouble.'\n\nThen rose the chief of the police of Old Cairo and said, 'O our\nlord the Sultan, the most remarkable thing that befell me,\nduring my term of office, was on this wise:\n\n\n\n\n\nStory of the Chief of the Old Cairo Police\n\n\n\nI once had ten thieves hanged, each on his own gibbet, and set\nguards to watch them and hinder the folk from taking them down.\nNext morning, when I came to look at them, I found two bodies\nhanging from one gibbet and said to the guards, \"Who did this,\nand where is the tenth gibbet?\" But they denied all knowledge\nof it, and I was about to beat them, when they said, \"Know, O\nAmir, that we fell asleep last night, and when we awoke, we\nfound one of the bodies gone, gibbet and all, whereat we were\nalarmed, fearing thy wrath. But, presently, up came a peasant,\njogging along on his ass; so we laid hands on him and killing\nhim, hung his body upon this gibbet, in the stead of the\nmissing thief.\"\n\nWhen I heard this, I marvelled and said to them, \"Had he aught\nwith him?\" \"He had a pair of saddle-bags on the ass,\" answered\nthey. \"What was in them?\" asked I and they said, \"We know not.\"\nQuoth I, \"Bring them hither.\" So they brought them to me and I\nbade open them, when, behold, therein was the body of a\nmurdered man, cut in pieces. When I saw this, I marvelled and\nsaid in myself, \"Glory be to God! The cause of the hanging of\nthis peasant was no other but his crime against this murdered\nman; and the Lord is no unjust dealer with [His] servants.\"'\n[FN#56]\n\n\n\n\n\n                THE THIEF AND THE MONEY-CHANGER\n\n\n\nA money-changer, bearing a bag of money, once passed by a\ncompany of thieves, and one of the latter said to the others,\n'I know how to steal yonder bag of money.' 'How wilt thou do\nit?' asked they. 'Look,' answered he and followed the money-\nchanger, till he entered his house, when he threw the bag on a\nshelf and went into the draught-house, to do an occasion,\ncalling to the slave-girl to bring him an ewer of water. So she\ntook the jug and followed him to the draught-house, leaving the\ndoor open, whereupon the thief entered and taking the bag of\nmoney, made off with it to his companions, to whom he related\nwhat had passed. 'By Allah,' said they, 'this was a clever\ntrick! It is not every one could do it: but, presently, the\nmoney-changer will come out of the draught-house and missing\nthe bag of money, will beat the slave-girl and torture her\ngrievously. Meseems thou hast at present done nothing worthy of\npraise; but, if thou be indeed a sharper, thou wilt return and\nsave the girl from being beaten.' 'If it be the will of God,'\nanswered the thief, 'I will save both the girl and the purse.'\n\nThen he went back to the money-changer's house and found him\nbeating the girl, because of the bag of money; so he knocked at\nthe door and the man said, 'Who is there? Quoth the thief, 'I\nam the servant of thy neighbour in the bazaar.' So he came out\nto him and said, 'What is thy business?' 'My master salutes\nthee,' replied the thief, 'and says to thee, \"Surely, thou art\nmad to cast the like of this bag of money down at the door of\nthy shop and go away and leave it! Had a stranger chanced on\nit, he had made off with it.\" And except my master had seen it\nand taken care of it, it had been lost to thee.' So saying, he\npulled out the purse and showed it to the money-changer, who\nsaid, 'That is indeed my purse,' and put out his hand to take\nit; but the thief said, 'By Allah, I will not give it thee,\ntill thou write me a receipt; for I fear my master will not\nbelieve that thou hast duly received the purse, except I bring\nhim a writing to that effect, under thy hand and seal.' So the\nmoney-changer went in to write the receipt; but, in the\nmeantime, the thief made off with the bag of money, having\n[thus] saved the slave-girl her beating.\n\n\n\n\n\n             THE CHIEF OF THE COUS POLICE AND THE\n                            SHARPER\n\n\n\nIt is related that Alaeddin, chief of the police of\nCous[FN#57], was sitting one night in his house, when a man of\ncomely aspect and dignified port, followed by a servant bearing\na chest upon his head, came to the door and said to one of the\nyoung men, 'Go in and tell the Amir that I would speak with him\nprivily.' So the servant went in and told his master, who bade\nadmit the visitor. When he entered the Amir saw him to be a man\nof good appearance and carriage; so he received him with\nhonour, seating him beside himself, and said to him, 'What is\nthy business?' 'I am a highwayman,' replied the stranger, 'and\nam minded to repent at thy hands and turn to God the Most High\nbut I would have thee help me to this, for that I am in thy\ndistrict and under thine eye. I have here a chest, wherein is\nthat which is worth nigh forty thousand dinars; and none hath\nso good a right to it as thou; so do thou take it and give me\nin exchange a thousand dinars of thy money, lawfully gotten,\nthat I may have a little capital, to aid me in my repentance,\nand not be forced to resort to sin for subsistence; and with\nGod the Most High be thy reward!' So saying he opened the chest\nand showed the Amir that it was full of trinkets and jewels and\nbullion and pearls, whereat he was amazed and rejoiced greatly.\nThen he cried out to his treasurer, to bring him a purse of a\nthousand dinars, and gave it to the highwayman, who thanked him\nand went his way, under cover of the night.\n\nOn the morrow, the Amir sent for the chief of the goldsmiths and\nshowed him the chest and what was therein; but the goldsmith\nfound it nothing but pewter and brass and the jewels and pearls\nall of glass; at which Alaeddin was sore chagrined and sent in\nquest of the highwayman; but none could come at him.\n\n\n\n\n\n            IBRAHIM BEN EL MEHDI AND THE MERCHANT'S\n                            SISTER.\n\n\n\nThe Khalif El Mamoun once said to [his uncle] Ibrahim ben el\nMehdi, 'Tell us the most remarkable thing that thou hast ever\nseen.' 'I hear and obey, O Commander of the Faithful,' answered\nhe. 'Know that I went out one day, a-pleasuring, and my course\nbrought me to a place where I smelt the odour of food. My soul\nlonged for it and I halted, perplexed and unable either to go\non or enter. Presently, I raised my eyes and saw a lattice\nwindow and behind it a hand and wrist, the like of which for\nbeauty I never saw. The sight turned my brain and I forgot the\nsmell of the food and began to cast about how I should get\naccess to the house. After awhile, I espied a tailor hard by\nand going up to him, saluted him. He returned my greeting and I\nsaid to him, \"Whose house is that?\" \"It belongs to a merchant\ncalled such an one,\" answered he, \"who consorteth with none but\nmerchants.\"\n\nAs we were talking, up came two men of comely and intelligent\naspect, riding on horseback; and the tailor told me their names\nand that they were the merchant's most intimate friends. So I\nspurred my horse towards them and said to them, \"May I be your\nransom! Abou such an one[FN#58] waits for you!\" And I rode with\nthem to the gate, where I entered and they also. When the\nmaster of the house saw me, he doubted not but I was their\nfriend; so he welcomed me and made me sit down in the highest\nroom. Then they brought the table of food and I said, \"God hath\ngranted me my desire of the food; and now there remain the hand\nand wrist.\" After awhile, we removed, for carousal, to another\nroom, which I found full of all manner of rarities; and the\nhost paid me particular attention, addressing his conversation\nto me, for that he deemed me a guest of his guests; whilst the\nlatter, in like manner, made much of me, taking me for a friend\nof the master of the house.\n\nWhen we had drunk several cups of wine, there came in to us a\ndamsel of the utmost beauty and elegance, as she were a\nwillow-wand, who took a lute and playing a lively measure, sang\nthe following verses:\n\nIs it not passing strange, indeed, one house should hold us\n     tway And still thou drawst not near to me nor yet a word\n     dost say,\nExcept the secrets of the souls and hearts that broken be And\n     entrails blazing in the fires of love, the eye bewray\nWith meaning looks and knitted brows and eyelids languishing\n     And hands that salutation sign and greeting thus convey?\n\nWhen I heard this, my entrails were stirred and I was moved to\ndelight, for the excess of her grace and the beauty of the\nverses she sang; and I envied her her skill and said, \"There\nlacketh somewhat to thee, O damsel!\" Whereupon she threw the\nlute from her hand, in anger, and cried, \"Since when do you use\nto bring ill-mannered fools into your assemblies?\" Then I\nrepented of what I had done, seeing that the others were vexed\nwith me, and said in myself, \"My hopes are at an end;\" and I\nsaw no way of quitting myself of reproach but to call for a\nlute, saying, \"I will show you what escaped her in the air she\nsang.\" So they brought me a lute and I tuned it and sang the\nfollowing verses:\n\nThis is thy lover distraught, absorbed in his passion and pain;\n     Thy lover, the tears of whose eyes run down on his body\n     like rain.\nOne hand to his heart ever pressed, whilst the other the\n     Merciful One Imploreth, so He of His grace may grant him\n     his hope to attain.\nO thou, that beholdest a youth for passion that's perished,\n     thine eye And thy hand are the cause of his death and yet\n     might restore him again.\n\nWhen the damsel heard this, she sprang up and throwing herself\nat my feet, kissed them and said, \"It is thine to excuse, O my\nlord! By Allah, I knew not thy quality nor heard I ever the\nlike of this fashion!\" And they all extolled me and made much\nof me, being beyond measure delighted, and besought me to sing\nagain. So I sang a lively air, whereupon they all became as\ndrunken men, and their wits left them. Then the guests departed\nto their homes and I abode alone with the host and the girl.\nThe former drank some cups with me, then said to me, \"O my\nlord, my life hath been wasted, in that I have not known the\nlike of thee till now. By Allah, then, tell me who thou art,\nthat I may know who is the boon-companion whom God hath\nbestowed on me this night.\"\n\nI would not at first tell him my name and returned him evasive\nanswers; but he conjured me, till I told him who I was;\nwhereupon he sprang to his feet and said, \"Indeed, I wondered\nthat such excellence should belong to any but the like of thee;\nand Fortune hath done me a service for which I cannot avail to\nthank her. But, belike, this is a dream; for how could I hope\nthat the family of the Khalifate should visit me in my own\nhouse and carouse with me this night?\" I conjured him to be\nseated; so he sat down and began to question me, in the most\ncourteous terms, as to the cause of my visit. So I told him the\nwhole matter, concealing nothing, and said to him, \"Verily, I\nhave had my desire of the food, but not of the hand and wrist.\"\nQuoth he, \"Thou shalt have thy desire of them also, so God\nwill.\" Then said he to the slave-girl, \"Bid such an one come\ndown.\" And he called his slave-girls down, one by one and\nshowed them to me; but I saw not my mistress among them, and he\nsaid, \"O my lord, there is none left save my mother and sister;\nbut, by Allah, I must needs have them also down and show them\nto thee.\"\n\nI marvelled at his courtesy and large-heartedness and said,\n\"May I be thy ransom! Begin with thy sister.\" \"Willingly,\"\nreplied he. So she came down and behold, it was she whose hand\nand wrist I had seen. \"May God make me thy ransom!\" said I.\n\"This is the damsel whose hand and wrist I saw at the lattice.\"\nThen he sent at once for witnesses and bringing out two myriads\nof dinars, said to the witnesses, \"This our lord Ibrahim ben el\nMehdi, uncle of the Commander of the Faithful, seeks the hand\nof my sister such an one, and I call you to witness that I\nmarry her to him and that he has endowed her with a dowry of\nten thousand dinars.\" And he said to me, \"I give thee my sister\nin marriage, at the dowry aforesaid.\" \"I consent,\" answered I.\nWhereupon he gave one of the bags to her and the other to the\nwitnesses, and said to me, \"O my lord, I desire to array a\nchamber for thee; where thou mayst lie with thy wife.\" But I\nwas abashed at his generosity and was ashamed to foregather\nwith her in his house; so I said, \"Equip her and send her to my\nhouse.\" And by thy life, O Commander of the Faithful, he sent\nme such an equipage with her, that my house was too strait to\nhold it, for all its greatness! And I begot on her this boy\nthat stands before thee.'\n\nThe Khalif marvelled at the merchant's generosity and said,\n'Gifted of God is he! Never heard I of his like.' And he bade\nIbrahim bring him to court, that he might see him. So he\nbrought him and the Khalif conversed with him; and his wit and\ngood breeding so pleased him, that he made him one of his chief\nofficers.\n\n\n\n\n\n            THE WOMAN WHOSE HANDS WERE CUT OFF FOR\n                THAT SHE GAVE ALMS TO THE POOR.\n\n\n\nA certain King once made proclamation to the people of his\nrealm, saying, 'If any of you give alms of aught, I will\nassuredly cut off his hand;' wherefore all the people abstained\nfrom alms-giving, and none could give to any.\n\nOne day a beggar accosted a certain woman (and indeed hunger\nwas sore upon him) and said to her, 'Give me an alms.' 'How can\nI give thee aught,' answered she, 'when the King cutteth off\nthe hands of all who give alms?' But he said, 'I conjure thee\nby God the Most High, give me an alms.' So, when he adjured her\nby God, she had compassion on him and gave him two cakes of\nbread. The King heard of this; so he called her before him and\ncut off her hands, after which she returned to her house.\n\nA while after, the King said to his mother, 'I have a mind to\ntake a wife; so do thou marry me to a fair woman.' Quoth she,\n'There is among our female slaves one who is unsurpassed in\nbeauty; but she hath a grievous blemish.' 'What is that?' asked\nthe King; and his mother answered, 'She hath had both her hands\ncut off.' Said he, 'Let me see her.' So she brought her to him,\nand he was ravished by her and married her and went in to her;\nand she brought him a son.\n\nNow this was the woman, who had her hands cut off for\nalms-giving; and when she became queen, her fellow-wives envied\nher and wrote to the King [who was then absent] that she was\nunchaste; so he wrote to his mother, bidding her carry the\nwoman into the desert and leave her there. The old queen obeyed\nhis commandment and abandoned the woman and her son in the\ndesert; whereupon she fell to weeping and wailing exceeding\nsore for that which had befallen her. As she went along, with\nthe child at her neck, she came to a river and knelt down to\ndrink, being overcome with excess of thirst, for fatigue and\ngrief; but, as she bent her head, the child fell into the\nwater.\n\nThen she sat weeping sore for her child, and as she wept, there\ncame up two men, who said to her, 'What makes thee weep?' Quoth\nshe, 'I had a child at my neck, and he hath fallen into the\nwater.' 'Wilt thou that we bring him out to thee?' asked they,\nand she answered, 'Yes.' So they prayed to God the Most High,\nand the child came forth of the water to her, safe and sound.\nQuoth they, 'Wilt thou that God restore thee thy hands as they\nwere?' 'Yes,' replied she: whereupon they prayed to God,\nblessed and exalted be He! and her hands were restored to her,\ngoodlier than before. Then said they, 'Knowst thou who we are?'\n'God [only] is all-knowing,' answered she; and they said, 'We\nare thy two cakes of bread, that thou gavest in alms to the\nbeggar and which were the cause of the cutting off of thy\nhands. So praise thou God the Most High, for that He hath\nrestored thee thy hands and thy child.' So she praised God the\nMost High and glorified Him.\n\n\n\n\n\n                     THE DEVOUT ISRAELITE.\n\n\n\nThere was once a devout man of the children of Israel[FN#59],\nwhose family span cotton; and he used every day to sell the\nyarn they span and buy fresh cotton, and with the profit he\nbought the day's victual for his household. One day, he went\nout and sold the day's yarn as usual, when there met him one of\nhis brethren, who complained to him of want; so he gave him the\nprice of the yarn and returned, empty-handed, to his family,\nwho said to him, 'Where is the cotton and the food?' Quoth he,\n'Such an one met me and complained to me of want; so I gave him\nthe price of the yarn.' And they said, 'How shall we do? We\nhave nothing to sell.' Now they had a broken platter and a jar;\nso he took them to the market; but none would buy them of him.\n\nPresently, as he stood in the market, there came up a man with\na stinking, swollen fish, which no one would buy of him, and he\nsaid to the Jew, 'Wilt thou sell me thine unsaleable ware for\nmine?' 'Yes,' answered the Jew and giving him the jar and\nplatter, took the fish and carried it home to his family, who\nsaid, 'What shall we do with this fish?' Quoth he, 'We will\nbroil it and eat of it, till it please God to provide for us.'\nSo they took it and ripping open its belly, found therein a\ngreat pearl and told the Jew, who said, 'See if it be pierced.\nIf so, it belongs to some one of the folk; if not, it is a\nprovision of God for us.' So they examined it and found it\nunpierced.\n\nOn the morrow, the Jew carried it to one of his brethren, who\nwas skilled in jewels, and he said, 'Whence hadst thou this\npearl?' 'It was a gift of God the Most High to us,' replied the\nJew, and the other said, 'It is worth a thousand dirhems, and I\nwill give thee that sum; but take it to such an one, for he\nhath more money and skill than I.' So the Jew took it to the\njeweller, who said, 'It is worth threescore and ten thousand\ndirhems and no more. Then he paid him that sum and the Jew\nhired two porters to carry the money to his house. As he came\nto his door, a beggar accosted him, saying, 'Give me of that\nwhich God the Most High hath given thee.' Quoth the Jew, 'But\nyesterday, we were even as thou; take half the money.' So he\nmade two parts of it, and each took his half. Then said the\nbeggar, 'Take back thy money and God prosper thee in it; I am a\nmessenger, whom thy Lord hath sent to try thee.' Quoth the Jew,\n'To God be the praise and the thanks!' and abode with his\nfamily in all delight of life, till death.\n\n\n\n\n\n            ABOU HASSAN EZ ZIYADI AND THE MAN FROM\n                          KHORASSAN.\n\n\n\nQuoth Abou Hassan ez Ziyadi[FN#60], 'I was once in very needy\ncase, and the baker and grocer and other purveyors importuned\nme, so that I was in sore straits and knew of no resource nor\nwhat to do. Things being thus, there came in to me one day one\nof my servants and said to me, \"There is a man, a pilgrim, at\nthe door, who seeks admission to thee.\" Quoth I, \"Admit him.\"\nSo he came in and behold, he was a native of Khorassan. We\nexchanged salutations and he said to me, \"Art thou Abou Hassan\nez Ziyadi?\" \"Yes,\" answered I. \"What is thy business?\" Quoth\nhe, \"I am a stranger and am minded to make the pilgrimage; but\nI have with me a great sum of money, which is burdensome to me.\nSo I wish to deposit with thee these ten thousand dirhems,\nwhilst I make the pilgrimage and return. If the caravan return\nand thou see me not, know that I am dead, in which case the\nmoney is a gift from me to thee; but if I come back, it shall\nbe mine.\" \"Be it as thou wilt,\" answered I, \"so it please God\nthe Most High.\" So he brought out a leather bag and I said to\nthe servant, \"Fetch the scales.\" He brought them and the man\nweighed out the money and handed it to me, after which he went\nhis way. Then I called the tradesmen and paid them what I owed\nand spent freely, saying in myself, \"By the time he returns,\nGod will have succoured me with one or another of His bounties.\"\nHowever, next day, the servant came in to me and said, \"Thy\nfriend the man from Khorassan is at the door.\"\n\n\"Admit him,\" answered I. So he came in and said to me, \"I had\nthought to make the pilgrimage; but news hath reached me of the\ndeath of my father, and I have resolved to return; so give me\nthe money I deposited with thee yesterday.\" When I heard this,\nI was troubled and perplexed beyond measure and knew not what\nreply to make him; for, if I denied it, he would put me to my\noath, and I should be shamed in the world to come; whilst, if I\ntold him that I had spent the money, he would make an outcry\nand disgrace me. So I said to him, \"God give thee health! This\nmy house is no stronghold nor place of safe custody for this\nmoney. When I received thy leather bag, I sent it to one with\nwhom it now is; so do thou return to us to-morrow and take thy\nmoney, if it be the will of God.\"\n\nSo he went away, and I passed the night in sore concern, because\nof his return to me. Sleep visited me not nor could I close my\neyes: so I rose and bade the boy saddle me the mule. \"O my lord,\"\nanswered he, \"it is yet but the first watch of the night.\" So I\nreturned to bed, but sleep was forbidden to me and I ceased not\nto awaken the boy and he to put me off, till break of day, when\nhe saddled me the mule, and I mounted and rode out, not knowing\nwhither to go. I threw the reins on the mule's shoulders and\ngave myself up to anxiety and melancholy thought, whilst she\nfared on with me to the eastward of Baghdad. Presently, as I\nwent along, I saw a number of people in front and turned aside\ninto another path to avoid them; but they, seeing that I wore\na professor's hood, followed me and hastening up to me, said,\n\"Knowest thou the lodging of Abou Hassan ez Ziyadi?\" \"I am he,\"\nanswered I; and they rejoined, \"The Commander of the Faithful\ncalls for thee.\" Then they carried me before El Mamoun, who\nsaid to me, \"Who art thou?\" Quoth I, \"I am a professor of the\nlaw and traditions, and one of the associates of the Cadi Abou\nYousuf.\" \"How art thou called?\" asked the Khalif. \"Abou Hassan\nez Ziyadi,\" answered I, and he said, \"Expound to me thy case.\"\n\nSo I told him how it was with me and he wept sore and said to\nme, \"Out on thee! The Apostle of God (whom may He bless and\npreserve) would not let me sleep this night, because of thee;\nfor he appeared to me in my first sleep and said to me,\n'Succour Abou Hassan ez Ziyadi.' Whereupon I awoke and knowing\nthee not, went to sleep again; but he came to me a second time\nand said to me, 'Woe to thee! Succour Abou Hassan ez Ziyadi.' I\nawoke a second time, but knew thee not, so went to sleep again;\nand he came to me a third time and still I knew thee not and\nwent to sleep again. Then he came to me once more and said,\n'Out on thee! Succour Abou Hassan ez Ziyadi!' After that I\ndared not go to sleep again, but watched the rest of the night\nand aroused my people and sent them in all directions in quest\nof thee.\" Then he gave me ten thousand dirhems, saying, \"This\nis for the Khorassani,\" and other ten thousand, saying, \"Spend\nfreely of this and amend thy case therewith, and set thine\naffairs in order.\" Moreover, he gave me yet thirty thousand\ndirhems, saying, \"Furnish thyself with this, and when the day\nof estate comes round, come thou to me, that I may invest thee\nwith an office.\"\n\nSo I took the money and returned home, where I prayed the\nmorning-prayer. Presently came the Khorassani, so I carried him\ninto the house and brought out to him ten thousand dirhems,\nsaying, \"Here is thy money.\" \"It is not my very money,\"\nanswered he. \"How cometh this?\" So I told him the whole story,\nand he wept and said, \"By Allah, hadst thou told me the truth\nat first, I had not pressed thee! And now, by Allah, I will not\naccept aught of the money; and thou art quit of it.\" So saying,\nhe went away and I set my affairs in order and repaired on the\nappointed day to the Divan, where I found the Khalif seated.\nWhen he saw me, he called me to him and bringing forth to me a\npaper from under his prayer-carpet, said to me, \"This is a\npatent, conferring on thee the office of Cadi of the western\ndivision of the Holy City[FN#61] from the Bab es Selam[FN#62]\nto the end of the town; and I appoint thee such and such\nmonthly allowances. So fear God (to whom belong might and\nmajesty) and be mindful of the solicitude of His Apostle (whom\nmay He bless and preserve) on thine account.\" The folk marvelled\nat the Khalif's words and questioned me of their meaning; so I\ntold them the whole story and it spread abroad amongst the\npeople.'\n\nAnd [quoth he who tells the tale] Abou Hassan ez Ziyadi ceased\nnot to be Cadi of the Holy City, till he died in the days of El\nMamoun, the mercy of God be on him!\n\n\n\n\n\n             THE POOR MAN AND HIS GENEROUS FRIEND.\n\n\n\nThere was once a rich man, who lost all he had and became poor,\nwhereupon his wife counselled him to seek aid of one of his\nfriends. So he betook himself to a certain friend of his and\nacquainted him with his strait; and he lent him five hundred\ndinars to trade withal. Now he had aforetime been a jeweller;\nso he took the money and went to the jewel-bazaar, where he\nopened a shop to buy and sell. Presently, three men accosted\nhim, as he sat in his shop, and asked for his father. He told\nthem that he was dead, and they said, 'Did he leave any\noffspring?' Quoth the jeweller, 'He left a son, your servant.'\n'And who knoweth thee for his son?' asked they. 'The people of\nthe bazaar,' replied he; and they said, 'Call them together,\nthat they may testify to us that thou art his son.' So he\ncalled them and they bore witness of this; whereupon the three\nmen delivered to him a pair of saddle-bags, containing thirty\nthousand dinars, besides jewels and bullion, saying, 'This was\ndeposited with us in trust by thy father.' Then they went away;\nand presently there came to him a woman, who sought of him\ncertain of the jewels, worth five hundred dinars, and paid him\nthree thousand for them.\n\nSo he took five hundred dinars and carrying them to his friend,\nwho had lent him the money, said to him, 'Take the five hundred\ndinars I borrowed of thee; for God hath aided and prospered\nme.' 'Not so,' quoth the other. 'I gave them to thee outright,\nfor the love of God; so do thou keep them. And take this paper,\nbut read it not, till thou be at home, and do according to that\nwhich is therein.' So he took the paper and returned home,\nwhere he opened it and read therein the following verses:\n\nThe men who came to thee at first my kinsmen were, my sire, His\n     brother and my dam's, Salih ben Ali is his name.\nMoreover, she to whom thou soldst the goods my mother was, And\n     eke the jewels and the gold, from me, to boot, they came;\nNor, in thus ordering myself to thee, aught did I seek Save of\n     the taking it from me to spare thee from the shame.\n\n\n\n\n\n             THE RUINED MAN WHO BECAME RICH AGAIN\n                       THROUGH A DREAM.\n\n\n\nThere lived once in Baghdad a very wealthy man, who lost all\nhis substance and became so poor, that he could only earn his\nliving by excessive labour. One night, he lay down to sleep,\ndejected and sick at heart, and saw in a dream one who said to\nhim, 'Thy fortune is at Cairo; go thither and seek it.' So he\nset out for Cairo; but, when he arrived there, night overtook\nhim and he lay down to sleep in a mosque. Presently, as fate\nwould have it, a company of thieves entered the mosque and made\ntheir way thence into an adjoining house; but the people of the\nhouse, being aroused by the noise, awoke and cried out;\nwhereupon the chief of the police came to their aid with his\nofficers. The robbers made off; but the police entered the\nmosque and finding the man from Baghdad asleep there, laid hold\nof him and beat him with palm rods, till he was well-nigh dead.\nThen they cast him into prison, where he abode three days,\nafter which the chief of the police sent for him and said to\nhim, 'Whence art thou?' 'From Baghdad,' answered he. 'And what\nbrought thee to Cairo?' asked the magistrate. Quoth the\nBaghdadi, 'I saw in a dream one who said to me, \"Thy fortune is\nat Cairo; go thither to it.\" But when I came hither, the\nfortune that he promised me proved to be the beating I had of\nthee.'\n\nThe chief of the police laughed, till he showed his jaw-teeth,\nand said, 'O man of little wit, thrice have I seen in a dream\none who said to me, \"There is in Baghdad a house of such a\nfashion and situate so-and-so, in the garden whereof is a\nfountain and thereunder a great sum of money buried. Go thither\nand take it.\" Yet I went not; but thou, of thy little wit, hast\njourneyed from place to place, on the faith of a dream, which\nwas but an illusion of sleep.' Then he gave him money, saying,\n'This is to help thee back to thy native land.' Now the house\nhe had described was the man's own house in Baghdad; so the\nlatter returned thither, and digging underneath the fountain in\nhis garden, discovered a great treasure; and [thus] God gave\nhim abundant fortune.\n\n\n\n\n\n               THE KHALIF EL MUTAWEKKIL AND HIS\n                     FAVOURITE MEHBOUBEH.\n\n\n\nThere were in the palace of the Khalif El Mutawekkil ala Allah\n[FN#63] four thousand concubines, whereof two thousand were\nGreeks [and other foreigners] and other two thousand native\nArabians[FN#64] and Abyssinians; and Obeid ibn Tahir[FN#65]\nhad given him two hundred white girls and a like number of\nAbyssinian and native girls[FN#66]. Among these latter was a\ngirl of Bassora, Mehboubeh by name, who was of surpassing\nbeauty and elegance and voluptuous grace. Moreover, she played\nupon the lute and was skilled in singing and making verses and\nwrote excellent well; so that El Mutawekkil fell passionately\nin love with her and could not endure from her a single hour.\nWhen she saw this, she presumed upon his favour to use him\nhaughtily and capriciously, so that he waxed exceeding wroth\nwith her and forsook her, forbidding the people of the palace\nto speak with her.\n\nOn this wise she abode some days, but the Khalif still inclined\nto her; and he arose one morning and said to his courtiers,\n'I dreamt, last night, that I was reconciled to Mehboubeh.'\n'Would God this might be on wake!' answered they. As they were\ntalking, in came one of the Khalif's maidservants and whispered\nhim that they had heard a noise of singing and luting in\nMehboubeh's chamber and knew not what this meant. So he rose\nand entering the harem, went straight to Mehboubeh's apartment,\nwhere he heard her playing wonder-sweetly upon the lute and\nsinging the following verses:\n\nI wander through the halls, but not a soul I see, To whom I may\n     complain or who will speak with me.\nIt is as though I'd wrought so grievous an offence, No\n     penitence avails myself therefrom to free.\nWill no one plead my cause with a king, who came to me In sleep\n     and took me back to favour and to gree;\nBut with the break of day to rigour did revert And cast me off\n     from him and far away did flee?\n\nWhen the Khalif heard these verses, he marvelled at the strange\ncoincidence of their dreams and entered the chamber. As soon as\nshe was ware of him, she hastened to throw herself at his feet,\nand kissing them, said, 'By Allah, O my lord, this is what I\ndreamt last night; and when I awoke, I made the verses thou\nhast heard.' ''By Allah,' replied El Mutawekkil, 'I also dreamt\nthe like!' Then they embraced and made friends and he abode\nwith her seven days and nights.\n\nNow she had written upon her cheek, in musk, the Khalif's name,\nwhich was Jaafer: and when he saw this, he made the following\nverses:\n\nOne wrote on her cheek, with musk, a name, yea, Jaafer to wit:\n     My soul be her ransom who wrote on her cheek what I see on\n     it!\nIf her fingers, indeed, have traced a single line on her cheek,\n     I trow, in my heart of hearts full many a line she hath\n     writ\nO thou, whom Jaafer alone of men possesses, may God Grant\n     Jaafer to drink his fill of the wine of thy beauty and\n     wit!\n\nWhen El Mutawekkil died, all his women forgot him save\nMehboubeh, who ceased not to mourn for him, till she died and\nwas buried by his side, the mercy of God be on them both!\n\n\n\n\n\n             WERDAN THE BUTCHER HIS ADVENTURE WITH\n                    THE LADY AND THE BEAR.\n\n\n\nThere lived once in Cairo, in the days of the Khalif El Hakim\nbi Amrillah, a butcher named Werdan, who dealt in sheep's\nflesh; and there came to him every forenoon a lady and gave him\na diner, whose weight was nigh two and a half Egyptian diners,\nsaying, 'Give me a lamb.' So he took the money and gave her the\nlamb, which she delivered to a porter she had with her; and he\nput it in his basket and she went away with him to her own\nplace. This went on for some time, the butcher profiting a\ndinar by her every day, till at last he began to be curious\nabout her and said to himself, 'This woman buys a diner's worth\nof meat of me every day, paying ready money, and never misses a\nday. Verily, this is a strange thing!' So he took an occasion\nof questioning the porter, in her absence, and said to him,\n'Whither goest thou every day with yonder woman?' 'I know not\nwhat to make of her,' answered the porter; 'for, every day,\nafter she hath taken the lamb of thee, she buys fresh and dried\nfruits and wax candles and other necessaries of the table, a\ndinar's worth, and takes of a certain Nazarene two flagons of\nwine, for which she pays him another diner. Then she loads me\nwith the whole and I go with her to the Vizier's Gardens, where\nshe blindfolds me, so that I cannot see where I set my feet,\nand taking me by the hand, leads me I know not whither.\nPresently, she says, \"Set down here;\" and when I have done so,\nshe gives me an empty basket she has ready and taking my hand,\nleads me back to the place, where she bound my eyes, and there\ndoes off the bandage and gives me ten dirhems.' 'God be her\nhelper!' quoth Werdan; but he redoubled in curiosity about her\ncase; disquietude increased upon him and he passed the night in\nexceeding restlessness.\n\nNext morning, [quoth Werdan,] she came to me as of wont and\ntaking the lamb, delivered it to the porter and went away. So I\ngave my shop in charge to a boy and followed her, unseen of\nher; nor did I cease to keep her in sight, hiding behind her,\ntill she left Cairo and came to the Vizier's Gardens. Then I\nhid, whilst she bound the porter's eyes, and followed her again\nfrom place to place, till she came to the mountain and stopped\nat a place where there was a great stone. Here she made the\nporter set down his crate, and I waited, whilst she carried him\nback to the Vizier's Gardens, after which she returned and\ntaking out the contents of the basket, disappeared behind the\nstone. Then I went up to the stone and pulling it away,\ndiscovered behind it an open trap-door of brass and a flight of\nsteps leading downward. So I descended, little by little, into\na long corridor, brilliantly lighted, and followed it, till I\ncame to a [closed] door, as it were the door of a room. I\nlooked about till I discovered a recess, with steps therein;\nthen climbed up and found a little niche with an opening\ntherein giving upon a saloon.\n\nSo I looked in and saw the lady cut off the choicest parts of\nthe lamb and laying them in a saucepan, throw the rest to a\nhuge great bear, who ate it all to the last bit. When she had\nmade an end of cooking, she ate her fill, after which she set\non wine and fruits and confections and fell to drinking, using\na cup herself and giving the bear to drink in a basin of gold,\ntill she was heated with wine, when she put off her trousers\nand lay down. Thereupon the bear came up to her and served her,\nwhilst she gave him the best of what belongeth to mankind, till\nhe had made an end, when he sat down and rested. Presently, he\nsprang to her and served her again; and thus he did, till he\nhad furnished half a score courses, and they both fell down in\na swoon and abode without motion.\n\nThen said I to myself, \"Now is my opportunity,\" and taking a\nknife I had with me, that would cut bones before flesh, went\ndown to them and found them motionless, not a muscle of them\nmoving for their much swink. So I put my knife to the bear's\ngullet and bore upon it, till I severed his head from his body,\nand he gave a great snort like thunder, whereat she started up\nin alarm and seeing the bear slain and me standing with the\nknife in my hand, gave such a shriek that I thought the soul\nhad left her body. Then said she, \"O Werdan, is this how thou\nrequitest me my favours?\" \"O enemy of thine own soul,\" replied\nI, \"dost thou lack of men that thou must do this shameful\nthing?\" She made me no answer, but bent down to the bear, and\nfinding his head divided from his body, said to me, \"O Werdan,\nwhich were the liefer to thee, to hearken to what I shall say\nto thee and be the means of thine own safety and enrichment to\nthe end of thy days, or gainsay me and so bring about thine own\ndestruction?\" \"I choose rather to hearken unto thee,\" answered\nI. \"Say what thou wilt.\" \"Then,\" said she, \"kill me, as thou\nhast killed this bear, and take thy need of this treasure and\ngo thy way.\" Quoth I, \"I am better than this bear. Return to\nGod the Most High and repent, and I will marry thee, and we\nwill live on this treasure the rest of our lives.\" \"O Werdan,\"\nrejoined she, \"far be it from me! How shall I live after him?\nAn thou kill me not, by Allah, I will assuredly do away thy\nlife! So leave bandying words with me, or thou art a lost man.\nThis is all I have to say to thee and peace be on thee.\" Then\nsaid I, \"I will slay thee, and thou shalt go to the malediction\nof God.\" So saying, I caught her by the hair and cut her\nthroat; and she went to the malediction of God and of the\nangels and of all mankind.\n\nThen I examined the place and found there gold and pearls and\njewels, such as no king could bring together. So I filled the\nporter's crate with as much as I could carry and covered it\nwith the clothes I had on me. Then I shouldered it and going up\nout of the underground place, set out homeward and fared on,\ntill I came to the gate of Cairo, where I fell in with ten of\nthe Khalif's body-guard, followed by El Hakim[FN#67] himself,\nwho said to me. \"Ho, Werdan!\" \"At thy service, O King,\" replied\nI. \"Hast thou killed the woman and the bear?\" asked he and I\nanswered, \"Yes.\" Quoth he, \"Set down the basket and fear\nnaught, for all the treasure thou hast with thee is thine, and\nnone shall dispute it with thee.\" So I set down the basket, and\nhe uncovered it and looked at it; then said to me, \"Tell me\ntheir case, though I know it, as if I had been present with\nyou.\" So I told him all that had passed and he said, \"Thou hast\nspoken the truth, O Werdan. Come now with me to the treasure.\"\n\nSo I returned with him to the cavern, where he found the\ntrap-door closed and said to me, \"O Werdan, lift it; none but\nthou can open the treasure, for it is enchanted in thy name and\nfavour.\" \"By Allah,\" answered I, \"I cannot open it;\" but he\nsaid, \"Go up to it, trusting in the blessing of God.\" So I\ncalled upon the name of God the Most High and going up to the\ntrap-door, put my hand to it; whereupon it came up, as it had\nbeen the lightest of things. Then said the Khalif, \"Go down and\nbring up what is there; for none but one of thy name and favour\nand quality hath gone down there since the place was made, and\nthe slaying of the bear and the woman was appointed to be at\nthy hand. This was recorded with me and I was awaiting its\nfulfilment.\" Accordingly, I went down and brought up all the\ntreasure, whereupon the Khalif sent for beasts of burden and\ncarried it away, after giving me the porter's crate, with what\nwas therein. So I carried it home and opened me a shop in the\nmarket. And [quoth he who tells the tale] this market is still\nextant and is known as Werdan's Market.\n\n\n\n\n\n               THE KING'S DAUGHTER AND THE APE.\n\n\n\nThere was once a King's daughter, whose heart was taken with\nlove of a black slave: he did away her maidenhead, and she\nbecame passionately addicted to amorous dalliance, so that she\ncould not endure from it a single hour and made moan of her\ncase to one of her body women, who told her that no thing doth\nthe deed of kind more abundantly than the ape. Now it chanced,\none day, that an ape-leader passed under her lattice, with a\ngreat ape; so she unveiled her face and looking upon the ape,\nsigned to him with her eyes, whereupon he broke his bonds and\nshackles and climbed up to the princess, who hid him in a place\nwith her, and he abode, eating and drinking and cricketing,\nnight and day. Her father heard of this and would have killed\nher; but she took the alarm and disguising herself in a [male]\nslave's habit, loaded a mule with gold and jewels and precious\nstuffs past count; then, taking horse with the ape, fled to\nCairo, where she took up her abode in one of the houses without\nthe city.\n\nNow, every day, she used to buy meat of a young man, a butcher,\nbut came not to him till after noonday, pale and disordered in\nface; so that he said in himself, 'There hangs some mystery by\nthis slave.' For she used to visit him in her slave's habit.\n[Quoth the butcher,] So, one day, when she came to me as usual,\nI went out after her, unseen, and ceased not to follow her from\nplace to place, so as she saw me not, till she came to her\nlodging, without the city, and I looked in upon her, through a\ncranny, and saw her light a fire and cook the meat, of which\nshe ate her fill and gave the rest to an ape she had with her.\nThen she put off her slave's habit and donned the richest of\nwomen's apparel; and so I knew that she was a woman. After this\nshe set on wine and drank and gave the ape to drink; and he\nserved her nigh half a score times, till she swooned away, when\nhe threw a silken coverlet over her and returned to his place.\n\nThereupon I went down into the midst of the place and the ape,\nbecoming aware of me, would have torn me in pieces; but I made\nhaste to pull out my knife and slit his paunch. The noise\naroused the young lady, who awoke, terrified and trembling; and\nwhen she saw the ape in this plight, she gave such a shriek,\nthat her soul well-nigh departed her body. Then she fell down\nin a swoon, and when she came to herself, she said to me, \"What\nmoved thee to do thus? By Allah, I conjure thee to send me after\nhim!\" But I spoke her fair and engaged to her that I would stand\nin the ape's stead, in the matter of much clicketing, till her\ntrouble subsided and I took her to wife.\n\nHowever, I fell short in this and could not endure to it; so I\ncomplained of her case to a certain old woman, who engaged to\nmanage the affair and said to me, \"Thou must bring me a cooking-\npot full of virgin vinegar and a pound of pyrethrum.\"[FN#68]\nSo I brought her what she sought, and she laid the pyrethrum\nin the pot with the vinegar and set it on the fire, till it\nboiled briskly. Then she bade me serve the girl, and I served\nher, till she fainted away, when the old woman took her up, and\nshe unknowing, and set her kaze to the mouth of the cooking-pot.\nThe steam of the pot entered her poke and there fell from it\nsomewhat, which I examined and behold, it was two worms, one\nblack and the other yellow. Quoth the old woman, \"The black was\nbred of the embraces of the negro and the yellow of those of\nthe ape.\"\n\nWhen my wife recovered from her swoon, she abode with me, in\nall delight and solace of life, and sought not copulation, as\nbefore, for God the Most High had done away from her this\nappetite; whereat I marvelled and acquainted her with the case.\nMoreover, [quoth he who tells the tale,] she took the old woman\nto be to her in the stead of her mother, and she and Werdan and\nhis wife abode in joy and cheer, till there came to them the\nDestroyer of Delights and the Sunderer of Companies; and glory\nbe to the Living One, who dieth not and in whose hand is the\nempire of the Seen and the Unseen!\n\n\n\n\n\n                     THE ENCHANTED HORSE.\n\n\n\nThere was once, of old time, a great and puissant King, of the\nKings of the Persians, Sabour by name, who was the richest of\nall the Kings in store of wealth and dominion and surpassed them\nall in wit and wisdom. Generous, open-handed and beneficent, he\ngave to those who sought and repelled not those who resorted to\nhim, comforted the broken-hearted and honourably entreated those\nwho fled to him for refuge. Moreover, he loved the poor and was\nhospitable to strangers and did the oppressed justice upon those\nwho oppressed them. He had three daughters, like shining full\nmoons or flowered gardens, and a son as he were the moon; and it\nwas his wont to keep two festivals in the year, those of the New\nYear and the Autumnal Equinox, on which occasions he threw open\nhis palaces and gave gifts and made proclamation of safety and\nsecurity and advanced his chamberlains and officers; and the\npeople of his realm came in to him and saluted him and gave him\njoy of the festival, bringing him gifts and servants.\n\nNow he loved science and geometry, and one day, as he sat on\nhis throne of kingship, during one of these festivals, there\ncame in to him three sages, cunning artificers and past masters\nin all manner of crafts and inventions, skilled in making\nrarities, such as confound the wit, and versed in the knowledge\nof [occult] truths and subtleties; and they were of three\ndifferent tongues and countries, the first an Indian, the\nsecond a Greek and the third a Persian. The Indian came forward\nand prostrating himself before the King, gave him joy of the\nfestival and laid before him a present befitting [his dignity];\nthat is to say, a figure of gold, set with precious stones and\njewels of price and holding in its hand a golden trumpet. When\nSabour saw this, he said, 'O sage, what is the virtue of this\nfigure?' And the Indian answered, 'O my lord; if this figure be\nset at the gate of thy city, it will be a guardian over it;\nfor, if an enemy enter the place, it will blow this trumpet\nagainst him, and so he will be known and laid hands on.' The\nKing marvelled at this and said, 'By Allah, O sage, an this thy\nword be true, I will grant thee thy wish and thy desire.'\n\nThen came forward the Greek and prostrating himself before the\nKing, presented him with a basin of silver, in whose midst was\na peacock of gold, surrounded by four-and-twenty young ones of\nthe same metal. Sabour looked at them and turning to the Greek,\nsaid to him, 'O sage, what is the virtue of this peacock?' 'O\nmy lord,' answered he, 'as often as an hour of the day or night\npasses, it pecks one of its young [and cries out and flaps its\nwings,] till the four-and-twenty hours are accomplished; and\nwhen the month comes to an end, it will open its mouth and thou\nshalt see the new moon therein.' And the King said, 'An thou\nspeak sooth, I will bring thee to thy wish and thy desire.'\n\nThen came forward the Persian sage and prostrating himself\nbefore the King, presented him with a horse of ebony wood,\ninlaid with gold and jewels, ready harnessed with saddle and\nbridle and stirrups such as befit kings; which when Sabour saw,\nhe marvelled exceedingly and was confounded at the perfection\nof its form and the ingenuity of its fashion. So he said, 'What\nis the use of this horse of wood, and what is its virtue and\nthe secret of its movement?' 'O my lord,' answered the Persian,\n'the virtue of this horse is that, if one mount him, it will\ncarry him whither he will and fare with its rider through the\nair for the space of a year and a day.' The King marvelled and\nwas amazed at these three wonders, following thus hard upon\neach other in one day, and turning to the sage, said to him,\n'By the Great God and the Bountiful Lord, who created all\ncreatures and feedeth them with water and victual, an thy\nspeech be true and the virtue of thy handiwork appear, I will\ngive thee whatsoever thou seekest and will bring thee to thy\nwish and thy desire!'\n\nThen he entertained the three sages three days, that he might\nmake trial of their gifts, after which they brought them before\nhim and each took the creature he had wrought and showed him\nthe secret of its movement. The trumpeter blew the trumpet, the\npeacock pecked its young and the Persian sage mounted the horse\nof ebony, whereupon it soared with him into the air and\ndescended again. When the King saw all this, he was amazed and\nperplexed and was like to fly for joy and said to the three\nsages, 'Now am I certified of the truth of your words and it\nbehoves me to quit me of my promise. Seek ye, therefore, what\nye will, and I will give it you.' Now the report of the [beauty\nof the] King's daughters had reached the sages, so they\nanswered, 'If the King be content with us and accept of our\ngifts and give us leave to ask a boon of him, we ask of him\nthat he give us his three daughters in marriage, that we may be\nhis sons-in-law; for that the stability of kings may not be\ngainsaid.' Quoth the King, 'I grant you that which you desire,'\nand bade summon the Cadi forthright, that he might marry each\nof the sages to one of his daughters.\n\nNow these latter were behind a curtain, looking on; and when they\nheard this, the youngest considered [him that was to be] her\nhusband and saw him to be an old man, a hundred years of age,\nwith frosted hair, drooping forehead, mangy eyebrows, slitten\nears, clipped[FN#69] beard and moustaches, red, protruding eyes,\nbleached, hollow, flabby cheeks, nose like an egg-plant and face\nlike a cobbler's apron, teeth overlapping one another,[FN#70]\nlips like camel's kidneys, loose and pendulous; brief, a monstrous\nfavour; for he was the frightfullest of the folk of his time; his\ngrinders had been knocked[FN#71] out and his teeth were like the\ntusks of the Jinn that fright the fowls in the hen-house. Now the\nprincess was the fairest and most graceful woman of her time, more\nelegant than the tender gazelle, blander than the gentle zephyr\nand brighter than the moon at her full, confounding the branch\nand outdoing the gazelle in the flexile grace of her shape and\nmovements; and she was fairer and sweeter than her sisters. So,\nwhen she saw her suitor, she went to her chamber and strewed dust\non her head and tore her clothes and fell to buffeting her face\nand lamenting and weeping.\n\nNow the prince her brother, who loved her with an exceeding\nlove, more than her sisters, was then newly returned from a\njourney and hearing her weeping and crying, came in to her and\nsaid, 'What ails thee? Tell me and conceal nought from me.' 'O\nmy brother and my dear one,' answered she, 'if the palace be\nstraitened upon thy father, I will go out; and if he be\nresolved upon a foul thing, I will separate myself from him,\nthough he consent not to provide for me.' Quoth he, 'Tell me\nwhat means this talk and what has straitened thy breast and\ntroubled thy humour.' 'O my brother and my dear one,' answered\nthe princess, 'know that my father hath given me in marriage to\na sorcerer, who brought him, as a gift, a horse of black wood,\nand hath stricken him with his craft and his sorcery; but, as\nfor me, I will none of him, and would, because of him, I had\nnever come into this world!' Her brother soothed her and\ncomforted her, then betook himself to his father and said to\nhim, 'What is this sorcerer to whom thou hast given my youngest\nsister in marriage, and what is this present that he hath\nbrought thee, so that thou hast caused my sister to [almost]\ndie of chagrin? It is not right that this should be.'\n\nNow the Persian was standing by and when he heard the prince's\nwords, he was mortified thereby and filled with rage, and the\nKing said, 'O my son, an thou sawest this horse, thy wit would\nbe confounded and thou wouldst be filled with amazement.' Then\nhe bade the slaves bring the horse before him and they did so;\nand when the prince, who was an accomplished cavalier, saw it,\nit pleased him. So he mounted it forthright and struck its\nbelly with the stirrup-irons; but it stirred not and the King\nsaid to the sage, 'Go and show him its movement, that he also\nmay help thee to thy wish.' Now the Persian bore the prince\nmalice for that he willed not he should have his sister; so he\nshowed him the peg of ascent on the right side [of the horse's\nneck] and saying to him, 'Turn this pin,' left him. So the\nprince turned the pin and forthwith the horse soared with him\ninto the air, as it were a bird, and gave not over flying with\nhim, till it disappeared from sight, whereat the King was\ntroubled and perplexed about his affair and said to the\nPersian, 'O sage, look how thou mayst make him descend.' But he\nanswered, 'O my lord, I can do nothing, and thou wilt never see\nhim again till the Day of Resurrection, for that he, of his\nignorance and conceit, asked me not of the peg of descent and I\nforgot to acquaint him therewith.' When the King heard this, he\nwas sore enraged and bade beat the sorcerer and clap him in\nprison, whilst he himself cast the crown from his head and\nbuffeted his face and beat upon his breast. Moreover, he shut\nthe doors of his palaces and gave himself up to weeping and\nlamentation, he and his wife and daughters and all the folk of\nthe city; and [thus] their joy was turned to mourning and their\ngladness changed into chagrin and sore affliction.\n\nMeanwhile, the horse gave not over soaring with the prince,\ntill he drew near the sun, whereat he gave himself up for lost\nand was confounded at his case, repenting him of having mounted\nthe horse and saying in himself, 'Verily, this was a plot of\nthe sage to destroy me; but there is no power and no virtue but\nin God the Most High, the Supreme! I am lost without recourse;\nbut, I wonder, did not he who made the peg of ascent make a peg\nof descent also?' Now he was a man of wit and intelligence; so\nhe fell to examining all the parts of the horse, but saw\nnothing save a peg, like a cock's head, on its right shoulder\nand the like on the left, and turned the right-hand peg,\nwhereupon the horse flew upward with increased speed. So he\nleft it and turned the left-hand peg, and immediately the\nsteed's upward motion ceased and he began to descend, little by\nlittle, towards the earth. When the prince saw this and knew\nthe uses of the horse, he was filled with joy and gladness and\nthanked God the Most High for that He had vouchsafed to deliver\nhim from destruction. Then he began to turn the horse's head\nwhither he would, making him rise and fall at pleasure, till he\nhad gotten complete command of his movement.\n\nHe ceased not to descend the whole of that day, for that the\nsteed's upward flight had borne him afar from the earth; and as\nhe descended, he diverted himself with viewing the various\ntowns and countries over which he passed and which he knew not,\nhaving never seen them in his life. Amongst the rest, he saw a\ncity of the goodliest ordinance, in the midst of a green and\nsmiling country, abounding in trees and streams; whereat he\nfell a-musing and said in himself, 'Would I knew the name of\nyonder city and in what country it is!' And he began to circle\nabout it and observe it right and left. By this time, the day\nbegan to wane and the sun drew near to its setting; and he\nsaid, 'I see no goodlier place to pass the night in than this\ncity; so I will lodge here this night and on the morrow I will\nreturn to my people and my kingdom and tell my father and\nfamily what has passed and what I have seen with my eyes.' Then\nhe addressed himself to look for a place, where he might safely\nbestow himself and his horse and where none should see him, and\npresently espied a palace, surrounded by a great wall with\nlofty battlements, rising high into the air from the midst of\nthe city and guarded by forty black slaves, clad in complete\nmail and armed with spears and swords and bows and arrows.\nQuoth he, 'This is a goodly place,' and turned the peg of\ndescent, whereupon the horse sank down with him and alighted\ngently on the roof of the palace. So the prince dismounted and\nbegan to go round about the horse and examine it, saying, 'By\nAllah, he who fashioned thee was a cunning craftsman, and if God\nextend the term of my life and restore me to my country and family\nin safety and reunite me with my father, I will assuredly bestow\nupon him all manner of bounties and entreat him with the utmost\nfavour.'\n\nBy this time the night had overtaken him and he sat on the\nroof, till he was assured that all in the palace slept; and\nindeed hunger and thirst were sore upon him, for that he had\nnot tasted food since he parted from his father. So he said in\nhimself, 'Surely, the like of this palace will not lack of\nvictual,' and leaving the horse there, went in quest of\nsomewhat to eat. Presently, he came to a stair and descending\nit, found himself in a court paved with white marble and\nalabaster, that shone in the light of the moon. He marvelled at\nthe place and the goodliness of its fashion, but heard no sound\nand saw no living soul and stood in perplexity, looking right\nand left and knowing not whither he should go. Then said he to\nhimself, 'I cannot do better than return to where I left my\nhorse and pass the night by it; and as soon as it is day, I\nwill mount and depart.' However, as he stood talking to\nhimself, he espied a light within the palace, and making\ntowards it, found that it came from a candle that stood before\na door of the palace, at the head of an eunuch, as he were one\nof the Afrits of Solomon or a tribesman of the Jinn, longer\nthan a plank and wider than a bench. He lay asleep before the\ndoor, with the pommel of his sword gleaming in the flame of the\ncandle, and at his head was a budget of leather[FN#72] hanging\nfrom a column of granite.\n\nWhen the prince saw this, he was affrighted and said, 'I crave\nhelp from God the Supreme! O my God, even as Thou hast [already]\ndelivered me from destruction, vouchsafe me strength to quit\nmyself of the adventure of this palace!' So saying, he put out\nhis hand to the budget and taking it, carried it to a place\napart and opened it and found in it food of the best. So he\nate his fill and refreshed himself and drank water, after\nwhich he hung the budget up in its place and drawing the\neunuch's sword from its sheath, took it, whilst the latter\nslept on, knowing not whence destiny should come to him. Then\nthe prince fared on into the palace, till he came to another\ndoor, with a curtain drawn before it; so he raised the curtain\nand entering, saw a couch of ivory, inlaid with pearls and\njacinths and jewels, and four slave-girls sleeping about it. He\nwent up to the couch, to see what was therein, and found a\nyoung lady lying asleep, veiled with her hair, as she were the\nfull moon at its rising, with flower-white forehead and\nshining parting and cheeks like blood-red anemones and dainty\nmoles thereon.\n\nWhen he saw this, he was amazed at her beauty and grace and\nsymmetry and recked no more of death. So he went up to her,\ntrembling in every nerve, and kissed her on the right cheek;\nwhereupon she awoke forthright and seeing the prince standing\nat her head, said to him, 'Who art thou and whence comest thou?'\nQuoth he, 'I am thy slave and thy lover.' 'And who brought thee\nhither?' asked she. 'My Lord and my fortune,' answered he; and\nshe said, 'Belike thou art he who demanded me yesterday of my\nfather in marriage and he rejected thee, pretending that thou\nwast foul of favour. By Allah he lied, when he spoke this thing,\nfor thou art not other than handsome.'\n\nNow the son of the King of Hind[FN#73] had sought her in\nmarriage, but her father had rejected him, for that he was ill-\nfavoured, and she thought the prince was he. So, when she saw\nhis beauty and grace, for indeed he was like the radiant moon,\nher heart was taken in the snare of his love, as it were a\nflaming fire, and they fell to talk and converse. Presently,\nher waiting-women awoke from their sleep and seeing the prince\nsitting with their mistress, said to her, 'O my lady, who is\nthis with thee?' Quoth she, 'I know not; I found him sitting by\nme, when I awoke. Belike it is he who seeks me in marriage of\nmy father.' 'O my lady,' answered they, 'by the Most Great God,\nthis is not he who seeks thee in marriage, for he is foul and\nthis man is fair and of high condition. Indeed, the other is\nnot fit to be his servant.'\n\nThen they went out to the eunuch and finding him asleep, awoke\nhim, and he started up in alarm. Quoth they, 'How comes it that\nthou art guardian of the palace and yet men come in to us,\nwhilst we are asleep?' When the eunuch heard this, he sprang in\nhaste to his sword, but found it not, and fear took him and\ntrembling. Then he went in, confounded, to his mistress and\nseeing the prince sitting talking with her, said to the former,\n'O my lord, art thou a man or a genie?' 'O it on thee, O\nunluckiest of slaves!' replied the prince. 'How darest thou\neven a prince of the sons of the Chosro\u00ebs with one of the\nunbelieving Satans?' Then he took the sword in his hand and\nsaid, 'I am the King's son-in-law, and he hath married me to\nhis daughter and bidden me go in to her.' 'O my lord,' replied\nthe eunuch, 'if thou be indeed a man, as thou avouchest, she is\nfit for none but thee, and thou art worthier of her than any\nother.'\n\nThen he ran to the King, shrieking out and rending his clothes\nand casting dust upon his head; and when the King heard his\noutcry, he said to him, 'What has befallen thee? Speak quickly\nand be brief; for thou troublest my heart.' 'O King,' answered\nthe eunuch, 'come to thy daughter's succour; for a devil of the\nJinn, in the likeness of a king's son, hath gotten possession\nof her; so up and at him!' When the King heard this, he thought\nto kill him and said, 'How camest thou to be careless of my\ndaughter and let this demon come at her?' Then he betook\nhimself to the princess's palace, where he found her women\nstanding, [awaiting him] and said to them, 'What is come to my\ndaughter?' 'O King,' answered they, 'sleep overcame us and when\nwe awoke, we found a young man sitting talking with her, as he\nwere the full moon, never saw we a fairer of favour than he. So\nwe questioned him of his case and he avouched that thou hadst\ngiven him thy daughter in marriage. More than this we know not,\nnor do we know if he be a man or a genie; but he is modest and\nwell bred, and doth nothing unseemly.'\n\nWhen the King heard this, his wrath cooled and he raised the\ncurtain stealthily and looking in, saw a prince of the goodliest\nfashion, with a face like the shining full moon, sitting talking\nwith his daughter. At this sight he could not contain himself,\nof his jealousy for his daughter, and putting the curtain aside,\nrushed in upon them, like a Ghoul, with his drawn sword in his\nhand. When the prince saw him, he said to the princess, 'Is this\nthy father?' 'Yes,' answered she; whereupon he sprang to his\nfeet and taking his sword in his hand, cried out at the King\nwith such a terrible cry, that he was confounded. Then he would\nhave fallen on him with the sword; but the King, seeing that the\nprince was doughtier than he, sheathed his blade and stood till\nthe latter came up to him, when he accosted him courteously and\nsaid to him, 'O youth, art thou a man or a genie?' Quoth the\nprince, 'Did I not respect thy right[FN#74] and thy daughter's\nhonour, I would spill thy blood! How darest thou even me with\ndevils, me that am a prince of the sons of the Chosro\u00ebs, who,\nhad they a mind to take thy kingdom, could shake thee from thy\npower and thy dominion and despoil thee of all thy possessions?'\nWhen the King heard his words, he was smitten with awe and fear\nof him and rejoined, 'If thou indeed be of the sons of the kings,\nas thou pretendest, how comes it that thou enterest my palace,\nwithout my leave, and soilest my honour, making thy way to my\ndaughter and feigning that thou art her husband and that I have\ngiven her to thee to wife, I that have slain kings and kings'\nsons, who sought her of me in marriage? And now who shall save\nthee from my mischief, when, if I cried out to my slaves and\nservants and bade them put thee to death, they would slay thee\nforthright? Who then shall deliver thee out of my hand?'\n\nWhen the prince heard this speech of the King, he answered,\n'Verily, I wonder at thee and at the poverty of thy wit! Canst\nthou covet for thy daughter a goodlier mate than myself and\nhast ever seen a stouter of heart or a more sufficient or a\nmore glorious in rank and dominion than I?' 'Nay, by Allah,'\nrejoined the King. 'But, O youth, I would have had thee make\nsuit to me for her hand before witnesses, that I might marry\nher to thee publicly; and now, were I to marry her to thee\nprivily, yet hast thou dishonoured me in her person.' 'Thou\nsayst well, O King,' replied the prince; 'but, if thy servants\nand soldiers should fall upon me and slay me, as thou pretendest,\nthou wouldst but publish thine own dishonour, and the folk\nwould be divided between belief and disbelief with regard\nto thee. Wherefore, meseems thou wilt do well to turn from\nthis thought to that which I shall counsel thee.' Quoth the\nKing, 'Let me hear what thou hast to propose.' And the prince\nsaid, 'What I have to propose to thee is this: either do\nthou meet me in single combat and he who slays the other shall\nbe held the worthier and having a better title to the kingdom;\nor else, let me be this night and on the morrow draw out\nagainst me thy horsemen and footmen and servants; but [first]\ntell me their number.' Quoth the King, 'They are forty thousand\nhorse, besides my own slaves and their followers, who are the\nlike of them in number.' 'When the day breaks, then,' continued\nthe prince, 'do thou array them against me and say to them,\n\"This fellow is a suitor to me for my daughter's hand, on\ncondition that he shall do battle single-handed against you\nall; for he pretends that he will overcome you and put you to\nthe rout and that ye cannot prevail against him.\" Then leave me\nto do battle with them. If they kill me, then is thy secret the\nsafelier hidden and thine honour the better guarded; and if I\novercome them, then is the like of me one whose alliance a King\nshould covet.'\n\nThe King approved of his counsel and accepted his proposition,\ndespite his awe and amaze at the exorbitant pretension of the\nprince to do battle against his whole army, such as he had\ndescribed it to him, being at heart assured that he would\nperish in the mellay and so he be quit of him and freed from\nthe fear of dishonour. So he called the eunuch and bade him go\nforthright to his Vizier and bid him assemble the whole of the\ntroops and cause them don their arms and mount their horses.\nThe eunuch carried the King's order to the Vizier, who straightway\nsummoned the captains of the army and the grandees of the realm\nand bade them don their harness of war and mount their horses\nand sally forth in battle array.\n\nMeanwhile, the King sat conversing with the prince, being\npleased with his wit and good breeding, till daybreak, when he\nreturned to his palace and seating himself on his throne,\ncommanded the troops to mount and bade saddle one of the best\nof the royal horses with handsome housings and trappings and\nbring it to the prince. But the latter said, 'O King, I will\nnot mount, till I come in sight of the troops and see them.'\n'Be it as thou wilt,' answered the King. Then they repaired to\nthe tilting ground, where the troops were drawn up, and the\nprince looked upon them and noted their great number; after\nwhich the King cried out to them, saying, 'Ho, all ye men,\nthere is come to me a youth who seeks my daughter in marriage,\n--never have I seen a goodlier than he, no, nor a stouter of\nheart nor a doughtier, for he pretends that he can overcome\nyou, single-handed, and put you to the rout and that, were ye a\nhundred thousand in number, yet would ye be for him but little.\nBut, when he charges upon you, do ye receive him upon the\npoints of your lances and the edges of your sabres; for,\nindeed, he hath undertaken a grave matter.'\n\nThen said he to the prince, 'Up, O my son, and do thy will on\nthem.' 'O King,' answered he, 'thou dealest not fairly with me.\nHow shall I go forth against them, seeing that I am afoot and\nthey are mounted?' 'I bade thee mount, and thou refusedst,'\nrejoined the King; 'but take which of my horses thou wilt.' But\nhe said, 'None of thy horses pleases me, and I will ride none\nbut that on which I came.' 'And where is thy horse?' asked the\nKing. 'Atop of thy palace,' answered the prince, and the King\nsaid, 'In what part of my palace?' 'On the roof,' replied the\nprince. 'Out on thee!' quoth the King. 'This is the first sign\nthou hast given of madness. How can the horse be on the roof?\nBut we shall soon see if thou speak truth or falsehood.' Then\nhe turned to one of his chief officers and said to him, 'Go to\nmy palace and bring me what thou findest on the roof.' And all\nthe people marvelled at the prince's words, saying, 'How can a\nhorse come down the steps from the roof? Verily this is a thing\nwhose like we never heard.'\n\nMeanwhile, the King's messenger repaired to the palace,\naccompanied by other of the royal officers, and mounting to the\nroof, found the horse standing there,--never had they looked on\na handsomer; but when they drew near and examined it, they saw\nthat it was made of ebony and ivory; whereat they laughed to\neach other, saying, 'Was it of the like of this horse that the\nyouth spoke? Surely, he must be mad; but we shall soon see the\ntruth of his case. Belike, there hangs some great mystery by\nhim.' Then they lifted up the horse and carrying it to the\nKing, set it down before him, and all the people flocked round\nit, staring at it and marvelling at the beauty of its fashion\nand the richness of its saddle and bridle. The King also\nadmired it and wondered at it extremely; and he said to the\nprince, 'O youth, is this thy horse?' 'Yes, O King,' answered\nthe prince; 'this is my horse, and thou shalt soon see wonders\nof it.' 'Then take and mount it,' rejoined the King, and the\nprince said, 'I will not mount till the troops withdraw afar\nfrom it.' So the King bade them withdraw a bowshot from the\nhorse; whereupon quoth the prince, 'O King, I am about to mount\nmy horse and charge upon thy troops and scatter them right and\nleft and cleave their hearts in sunder.' 'Do as thou wilt,'\nanswered the King; 'and spare them not, for they will not spare\nthee.' Then the prince mounted, whilst the troops ranged\nthemselves in ranks before him, and one said to another, 'When\nthe youth comes between the ranks, we will take him on the\npoints of our pikes and the edges of our swords.' 'By Allah,'\nquoth another, 'it were pity to kill so handsome and well-shaped\na youth!' 'By Allah,' rejoined a third, 'ye will have hard work\nto get the better of him; for he had not done this, but for what\nhe knew of his own prowess and valiantise.'\n\nMeanwhile, the prince, having settled himself in his saddle,\nwhilst all eyes were strained to see what he would do, turned\nthe peg of ascent; whereupon the horse began to sway to and fro\nand make the strangest of movements, after the manner of\nhorses, till its belly was filled with air and it took flight\nwith him and soared into the sky. When the King saw this, he\ncried out to his men, saying, 'Out on you! Take him, ere he\nescape you!' But his Viziers and officers said to him, 'O King,\nhow shall we overtake the flying bird? This is surely none but\nsome mighty enchanter, and God hath saved thee from him. So\npraise thou the Most High for thy deliverance from his hand.'\nThen the King returned to his palace and going in to his\ndaughter, acquainted her with what had befallen. He found her\nsore afflicted for the prince and bewailing her separation from\nhim; wherefore she fell grievously sick and took to her pillow.\nWhen her father saw her thus, he pressed her to his bosom and\nkissing her between the eyes, said to her, 'O my daughter,\npraise God and thank Him for that He hath delivered thee from\nthis crafty enchanter!' And he repeated to her the story of the\nprince's disappearance; but she paid no heed to his word and\ndid but redouble in her tears and lamentations, saying to\nherself, 'By Allah, I will neither eat nor drink, till God\nreunite me with him!' Her father was greatly concerned for her\nplight and mourned sore over her; but, for all he could do to\ncomfort her, passion and love-longing still grew on her for the\nprince.\n\nMeanwhile, the King's son, whenas he had risen into the air,\nturned his horse's head towards his native land, musing upon\nthe beauty and grace of the princess. Now he had enquired of\nthe King's people the name of the princess and of the King her\nfather and of the city, which was the city of Senaa of Yemen.\nSo he journeyed homeward with all speed, till he drew near his\nfather's capital and making a circuit about the city, alighted\non the roof of the King's palace, where he left his horse, whilst\nhe descended into the palace and finding its threshold strewn\nwith ashes, bethought him that one of his family was dead. Then\nhe entered, as of wont, and found his father and mother and\nsisters clad in mourning raiment of black, pale-faced and lean\nof body. When his father saw him and was assured that it was\nindeed his son, he gave a great cry and fell down in a swoon,\nbut presently coming to himself, threw himself upon him and\nembraced him, straining him to his bosom and rejoicing in him\nexceedingly. His mother and sisters heard this; so they came\nin and seeing the prince, fell upon him, kissing him and weeping\nand rejoicing with an exceeding joy. Then they questioned him of\nhis case; so he told them all that had befallen him from first\nto last and his father said to him, 'Praised be God for thy\nsafety, O solace of my eyes and life-blood of my heart!'\n\nThen the King bade hold high festival, and the glad news flew\nthrough the city. So they beat the drums and the cymbals and\nputting off the raiment of mourning, donned that of joy and\ndecorated the streets and markets; whilst the folk vied with\none another who should be the first to give the King joy, and\nthe latter proclaimed a general pardon and opening the prisons,\nreleased those who were therein. Moreover, he made banquets to\nthe people seven days and nights and all creatures were glad;\nand he took horse with his son and rode out with him, that the\nfolk might see him and rejoice. After awhile the prince\nenquired for the maker of the horse, saying, 'O my father, what\nhath fortune done with him?' 'May God not bless him,' answered\nthe King, 'nor the hour in which I set eyes on him! For he was\nthe cause of thy separation from us, O my son, and he hath lain\nin prison since the day of thy disappearance.' Then he bade\nrelease him from prison and sending for him, invested him in a\ndress of honour and entreated him with the utmost favour and\nmunificence, save that he would not give him his daughter to\nwife; whereat he was sore enraged and repented of that which he\nhad done, knowing that the prince had learnt the secret of the\nhorse and the manner of its motion. Moreover, the King said to\nhis son, 'Methinks thou wilt do well not to mount the horse\nneither go near it henceforth; for thou knowest not its\nproperties, and it is perilous for thee to meddle with it.' Now\nthe prince had told his father of his adventure with the King's\ndaughter of Senaa, and he said, 'If the King had been minded to\nkill thee, he had done so; but thine hour was not yet come.'\n\nWhen the rejoicings were at an end, the people returned to\ntheir houses and the King and his son to the palace, where they\nsat down and fell to eating and drinking and making merry. Now\nthe King had a handsome slave-girl, who was skilled in playing\nupon the lute; so she took it and began to play upon it and\nsing thereto of separation of lovers before the King and his\nson, and she chanted the following verses:\n\nThink not that absence ever shall win me to forget: For what\n     should I remember, if I'd forgotten you?\nTime passes, but my passion for you shall never end: In love of\n     you, I swear it, I'll die and rise anew.\n\nWhen the prince heard this, the fires of longing flamed up in\nhis heart and passion redoubled upon him. Grief and regret were\nsore upon him and his entrails yearned in him for love of the\nKing's daughter of Senaa; so he rose forthright and eluding his\nfather's notice, went forth the palace to the horse and\nmounting it, turned the peg of ascent, whereupon it flew up\ninto the air with him and soared towards the confines of the\nsky. Presently, his father missed him and going up to the\nsummit of the palace, in great concern, saw the prince rising\ninto the air; whereat he was sore afflicted and repented\nexceedingly that he had not taken the horse and hidden it: and\nhe said in himself, 'By Allah, if but my son return to me, I\nwill destroy the horse, that my heart may be at rest concerning\nmy son.' And he fell again to weeping and bewailing himself for\nhis son.\n\nMeanwhile, the prince flew on through the air till he came to\nthe city of Senaa and alighted on the roof as before. Then he\nwent down stealthily and finding the eunuch asleep, as of wont,\nraised the curtain and went on, little by little, till he came\nto the door of the princess's chamber and stopped to listen;\nwhen, behold, he heard her weeping plenteous tears and reciting\nverses, whilst her women slept round her. Presently, they heard\nher weeping and wailing and said, 'O our mistress, why wilt\nthou mourn for one who mourns not for thee?' 'O little of\nwit,' answered she, 'is he for whom I mourn of those who are\nforgotten?' And she fell again to weeping and wailing, till\nsleep overcame her.\n\nNow the prince's heart ached for her, so he entered and seeing\nher lying asleep, without covering, touched her with his hand;\nwhereupon she opened her eyes and saw him standing by her.\nQuoth he, 'Why this weeping and mourning?' And when she knew\nhim, she threw herself upon him and embraced him and kissed him\nand answered, 'For thy sake and because of my separation from\nthee.' 'O my lady,' said he, 'I have wearied for thee all this\ntime!' But she answered, 'It is I who have wearied for thee,\nand hadst thou tarried longer, I had surely died!' 'O my lady,'\nrejoined he, 'what thinkest thou of my case with thy father and\nhow he dealt with me? Were it not for my love of thee, O\nravishment of all creatures, I had surely slain him and made\nhim a warning to all beholders; but, even as I love thee, so I\nlove him for thy sake.' Quoth she, 'How couldst thou leave me?\nCan life be sweet to me after thee?' Quoth he, 'Let what has\nhappened suffice now: I am hungry and thirsty.' So she bade her\nmaidens make ready meat and drink, [and they sat eating and\ndrinking and conversing] till nigh upon daybreak, when he rose\nto take leave of her and depart, ere the eunuch should awake,\nand she said, 'Whither goest thou?' 'To my father's house,'\nanswered he; 'and I plight thee my troth that I will come to\nthee once in every week.' But she wept and said, 'I conjure\nthee, by God the Supreme, take me with thee whither thou goest\nand make me not taste anew the bitterness of separation from\nthee.' Quoth he, 'Wilt thou indeed go with me?' and she\nanswered, 'Yes.' 'Then,' said he, 'arise, that we may depart.'\nSo she rose forthright and going to a chest, arrayed herself in\nwhat was richest and dearest to her of her trinkets of gold and\njewels of price. Then he carried her up to the roof of the\npalace and mounting the horse, took her up behind him and bound\nher fast to himself; after which he turned the peg of ascent,\nand the horse rose with him into the air. When her women saw\nthis, they shrieked aloud and told her father and mother, who\nrushed up to the roof of the palace and looking up, saw the\nebony horse flying away with the prince and princess. At this\nthe King was sore troubled and cried out, saying, 'O King's\nson, I conjure thee, by Allah, have compassion on me and my\nwife and bereave us not of our daughter!' The prince made him\nno reply, but, thinking that the princess repented of leaving\nher father and mother, said to her, 'O ravishment of the age,\nwilt thou that I restore thee to thy father and mother?' 'By\nAllah, O my lord, that is not my desire,' answered she; 'my\nonly wish is to be with thee wherever thou art; for I am\ndistracted by the love of thee from all else, even to my father\nand mother.' At this the prince rejoiced greatly and made\nthe horse fare softly with them, so as not to disquiet the\nprincess; nor did they stay their flight till they came in\nsight of a green meadow, in which was a spring of running\nwater. Here they alighted and ate and drank; after which they\ntook horse again and fared on, till they came in sight of his\nfather's capital. At this, the prince was filled with joy and\nbethought himself to show her the seat of his dominion and his\nfather's power and dignity and give her to know that it was\ngreater than that of her father. So he set her down in one of\nhis father's pleasance-gardens [without the city] and carrying\nher into a pavilion there, prepared for the King, left the\nhorse at the door and charged her keep watch over it, saying,\n'Sit here, till my messenger come to thee; for I go now to my\nfather, to make ready a palace for thee and show thee my royal\nestate.' 'Do as thou wilt,' answered she, for she was glad that\nshe should not enter but with due honour and observance, as\nbecame her rank.\n\nThen he left her and betook himself to the palace of the King\nhis father, who rejoiced in his return and welcomed him; and\nthe prince said to him, 'Know that I have brought with me the\nprincess of whom I told thee and have left her without the city\nin such a garden and come to tell thee, that thou mayest make\nready and go forth to meet her in state and show her thy royal\ndignity and troops and guards.' 'With all my heart,' answered\nthe King and straightway bade decorate the city after the\ngoodliest fashion. Then he took horse and rode out in all state\nand splendour, he and his troops and household and grandees;\nwhilst the prince made ready for her a litter of green and\nred and yellow brocade, in which he set Indian and Greek\nand Abyssinian slave-girls. Moreover, he took forth of his\ntreasuries jewellery and apparel and what else of the things\nthat kings treasure up and made a rare display of wealth and\nmagnificence. Then he left the litter and those who were\ntherein and rode forward to the pavilion, where he had left the\nprincess; but found both her and the horse gone. When he saw\nthis, he buffeted his face and rent his clothes and went round\nabout the garden, as he had lost his wits; after which he came\nto his senses and said to himself, 'How could she have come at\nthe secret of the horse, seeing I told her nothing of it? Maybe\nthe Persian sage who made the horse has chanced upon her and\nstolen her away, in revenge for my father's treatment of him.'\nThen he sought the keepers of the garden and asked them if they\nhad seen any enter the garden.\n\nQuoth they, 'We have seen none enter but the Persian sage, who\ncame to gather simples.' So the prince was certified that it\nwas indeed he that had taken away the princess and abode\nconfounded and perplexed concerning his case. And he was\nabashed before the folk and returning to his father, [told him\nwhat had happened and] said to him, 'Take the troops and return\nto the city. As for me, I will never return till I have cleared\nup this affair.' When the King heard this, he wept and beat his\nbreast and said to him, 'O my son, calm thyself and master thy\nchagrin and return with us and look what King's daughter thou\nwouldst fain have, that I may marry thee to her.' But the\nprince paid no heed to his words and bidding him farewell,\ndeparted, whilst the King returned to the city and their joy\nwas changed into mourning.\n\nNow, as Fate would have it, when the prince left the princess\nin the pavilion and betook himself to his father's palace, for\nthe ordering of his affair, the Persian entered the garden to\npluck simples and scenting the fragrance of musk and essences,\nthat exhaled from the princess's person and perfumed the whole\nplace, followed it till he came to the pavilion and saw the horse,\nthat he had made with his own hands, standing at the door. At\nthis sight, his heart was filled with joy and gladness, for he\nhad mourned sore for it, since it had gone out of his hand. So\nhe went up to it and examining its every part, found it safe\nand sound; whereupon he was about to mount and ride away, when\nhe bethought himself and said, 'Needs must I first look what\nthe prince hath brought and left here with the horse.' So he\nentered the pavilion and seeing the princess sitting there, as\nshe were the sun shining in the cloudless sky, knew her to be\nsome high-born lady and doubted not but the prince had brought\nher thither on the horse and left her in the pavilion, whilst\nhe went to the city, to make ready for her entry in state.\n\nThen he went up to her and kissed the earth before her,\nwhereupon she raised her eyes to him and finding him exceeding\nfoul of face and favour, said, 'Who art thou?' 'O my lady,'\nanswered he, 'I am sent by the prince, who hath bidden me bring\nthee to another garden, nearer the city; for that my lady the\nqueen cannot go so far a journey and is unwilling, of her joy\nin thee, that another should forestall her with thee.' 'Where\nis the prince?' asked she; and the Persian replied, 'He is in\nthe city, with his father, and will presently come for thee in\ngreat state.' 'O fellow,' said she, 'could he find none to send\nto me but thee?' At this he laughed and answered, 'O my lady,\nlet not the ugliness of my face and the foulness of my favour\ndeceive thee. Hadst thou profited of me as hath the prince,\nthou wouldst praise my affair. Indeed, he chose me as his\nmessenger to thee, because of my uncomeliness and forbidding\naspect, in his jealousy and love of thee: else hath he slaves\nand pages and servants, white and black, out of number, each\ngoodlier than the other.' When she heard this, it commended\nitself to her reason and she believed him; so she rose and\nputting her hand in his, said, 'O my father, what hast thou\nbrought me to ride?' 'O my lady,' answered he, 'thou shalt ride\nthe horse thou camest on.' Quoth she, 'I cannot ride it by\nmyself.' Whereupon he smiled and knew that she was in his power\nand said, 'I myself will ride with thee.' So he mounted and\ntaking her up behind him, bound her fast to himself, for she\nknew not what he would with her. Then he turned the peg of\nascent, whereupon the belly of the horse became full of wind\nand it swayed to and fro and rose with them into the air nor\nslackened in its flight, till it was out of sight of the city.\n\nWhen the princess saw this, she said to him, 'O fellow, what\ndidst thou tell me of the prince, that he sent thee to me?'\n'Foul befall the prince!' answered the Persian. 'He is a\nscurril knave.' And she said, 'Out on thee! How darest thou\ndisobey thy lord's commandment!' 'He is no lord of mine,'\nrejoined the Persian. 'Knowst thou who I am?' 'I know nothing\nof thee,' replied the princess, 'save what thou toldest me.'\nQuoth he, 'What I told thee was a trick of mine against thee\nand the prince. I am he who made this horse under us, and I\nhave long regretted its loss; for the prince made himself\nmaster of it. But now I have gotten possession of it and of\nthee too, and I will rack his heart, even as he hath racked\nmine; nor shall he ever have the horse again. So take comfort\nand be of good cheer, for I can be of more service to thee than\nhe.' When she heard this, she buffeted her face and cried out,\nsaying, 'Ah, woe is me! I have neither gotten my beloved nor\nkept my father and mother!' And she wept sore over what had\nbefallen her, whilst the Persian fared on with her, without\nceasing, till he came to the land of the Greeks and alighted in\na verdant meadow, abounding in trees and streams.\n\nNow this meadow was near a city, in which was a king of great\npuissance, and it befell that he went forth that day to hunt\nand divert himself. As he passed by the meadow, he saw the\nPersian standing there, with the princess and the horse by his\nside, and before he was aware, the King's followers fell upon\nhim and carried him, the lady and the horse to their master,\nwho noting the foulness of his favour and the beauty and grace\nof the princess, said to the latter, 'O my lady, what kin is\nthis old fellow to thee?' The Persian made haste to reply, 'She\nis my wife and the daughter of my father's brother.' But she\ngave him the lie and said, 'O King, by Allah, I know him not,\nnor is he my husband, but hath stolen me away by force and\nfraud.' Thereupon the King bade beat the Persian, and they beat\nhim, till he was well-nigh dead; after which the King commanded\nto carry him to the city and cast him into prison, and taking\nthe princess and the horse from him, set the former in his\nharem and laid up the latter in his treasury, though he knew\nnot its properties nor the secret of its motion.\n\nMeanwhile, the prince donned a travelling-habit and taking what\nhe needed of money, set out, in very sorry plight, in quest of\nthe princess, and journeyed from country to country and city to\ncity, enquiring after the ebony horse, whilst all who heard him\nmarvelled at him and deemed his talk extravagant. Thus did he a\nlong while; but, for all his enquiry and research, he could win\nat no news of her. At last, he came to the city of Senaa and\nthere enquired for her, but could get no tidings of her and\nfound her father mourning her loss. So he turned back and made\nfor the land of the Greeks, pursuing his enquiries as he went,\ntill, as chance would have it, he alighted at a certain khan\nand saw a company of merchants sitting talking. He sat down\nnear them and heard one say to the others, 'O my friends, I\nhappened lately upon a wonder of wonders.' 'What was that?'\nasked they, and he answered, 'I was late in such a city,'\nnaming the city wherein was the princess, 'and heard its people\nspeak of a strange thing that had lately befallen. It was that\ntheir King went out one day a-hunting, with a company of his\ncourtiers and the grandees of his realm, and coming to a green\nmeadow, espied there a man standing, with a horse of ebony, and\na lady sitting hard by. The man was ugly and foul of favour,\nbut the lady was a marvel of beauty and grace and symmetry; and\nas for the ebony horse, it was a wonder, never saw eyes aught\ngoodlier than it nor more perfect than its fashion.' 'And\nwhat did the King with them?' asked the others. 'As for the\nman,' said the merchant, 'he questioned him of the lady and\nhe pretended that she was his wife and the daughter of his\nfather's brother; but she gave him the lie. So the King took\nher from him and bade beat him and cast him into prison. As\nfor the horse, I know not what became of it.' When the prince\nheard this, he drew near unto the speaker and questioned him\ndiscreetly and courteously, till he told him the name of the\ncity and of its king; which when he knew, he passed the night,\nfull of joy.\n\nOn the morrow, he set out and travelled till he reached the\ncity; but, when he would have entered, the gatekeepers laid\nhands on him, that they might bring him before the King; for\nthat it was his wont to question all strangers respecting their\nconditions and the crafts in which they were skilled and the\nreason of their coming thither. Now it was eventide, when he\nentered the city, and it was then too late to go in to the King\nor take counsel with him respecting him. So they carried him to\nthe prison, thinking to lay him therein for the night; but,\nwhen the warders saw his beauty and grace, they could not find\nit in their hearts to imprison him, but made him sit with them,\nwithout the prison; and when food came to them, he ate his fill\nwith them. When they had made an end of eating, they turned to\nhim and said, 'What countryman art thou?' 'I come from Persia,'\nanswered he, 'the land of the Chosro\u00ebs.' When they heard this,\nthey laughed and one of them said, 'O Chosro\u00e4n, I have heard\nthe talk of men and their histories and looked upon their\nconditions; but never saw or heard I a greater liar than the\nChosro\u00e4n that is with us in the prison.' 'Nor,' quoth another,\n'did I ever see fouler than his favour or more repulsive than\nhis aspect.' 'What have ye seen of his lying?' asked the\nprince, and they answered, 'He pretends that he is a sage. Now\nthe King came upon him, as he went a-hunting, and found with\nhim a most beautiful lady and a horse of ebony, never saw I a\nhandsomer. As for the lady, she is with the King, who is\nenamoured of her and would fain marry her; but she is mad, and\nwere this man a physician, as he pretends, he would have cured\nher, for the King doth his utmost endeavour to find a remedy\nfor her disease, and this whole year past hath he spent\ntreasures upon physicians and astrologers, on her account; but\nnone can avail to cure her. As for the horse, it is in the\nroyal treasury, and the man is here with us in the prison; and\nall night long he weeps and bemoans himself and will not let us\nsleep.'\n\nWhen the prince heard this, he bethought himself of a device by\nwhich he might compass his desire; and presently the warders,\nbeing minded to sleep, clapped him into the prison and locked\nthe door. He heard the Persian weeping and bemoaning himself,\nin his own tongue, and saying, 'Woe is me for my sin, that I\nsinned against myself and against the King's son, in that which\nI did with the damsel; for I neither left her nor got my desire\nof her! All this comes of my want of sense, in that I sought\nfor myself that which I deserved not and which befitted not the\nlike of me; for he, who seeks what befits him not, falleth into\nthe like of my predicament.' When the prince heard this, he\naccosted him in Persian, saying, 'How long wilt thou keep up\nthis weeping and wailing? Thinkst thou that there hath befallen\nthee what never befell other than thou?' When the Persian heard\nthis, he made friends with him and began to complain to him of\nhis case and misfortunes.\n\nAs soon as it was day, the warders took the prince and carried\nhim before the King, informing him that he had entered the city\non the previous night, at a time when no audience could be had\nof him. Quoth the King to the prince, 'Whence comest thou and\nwhat is thy name and craft and why comest thou hither?' And he\nanswered, 'I am called, in Persian, Herjeh. I come from the\nland of Fars and I am of the men of art and especially of the\nart of medicine and cure the sick and the mad. For this, I go\nround about all countries and cities, adding knowledge to my\nknowledge, and whenever I see a sick person, I heal him; and\nthis is my craft.' When the King heard this, he rejoiced\nexceedingly and said, 'O excellent sage, thou hast come to us\nat a time when we have need of thee.' Then he acquainted him\nwith the case of the princess, adding, 'If thou win to cure her\nand recover her of her madness, thou shalt have of me whatever\nthou seekest.' 'May God advance the King!' rejoined the prince.\n'Describe to me all thou hast seen of her madness and tell me\nhow long it is since it attacked her; also how thou camest by\nher.' So the King told him the whole story, from first to last,\nadding, 'The sage is in prison.' 'O august King,' said the\nprince, 'and what hast thou done with the horse?' 'It is with\nme yet, laid up in one of my treasure-chambers,' replied the\nKing; whereupon quoth the prince in himself, 'The first thing\nto do is to see the horse and assure myself of its condition.\nIf it be whole and unhurt, all will be well; but, if its works\nbe destroyed, I must find some other way of delivering my\nbeloved.'\n\nSo he turned to the King and said to him, 'O King, I must see\nthe horse in question: haply I may find in it somewhat that\nwill serve me for the recovery of the damsel.' 'With all my\nheart,' replied the King and taking him by the hand, led him to\nthe place where the horse was. The prince went round about it,\nexamining its condition, and found it whole and unhurt, whereat\nhe rejoiced greatly and said to the King, 'May God exalt the\nKing! I would fain go in to the damsel, that I may see how it\nis with her; for I hope, by God's grace, to cure her by means\nof the horse.' Then he bade take care of the horse and the King\ncarried him to the princess's apartment, where he found her\nwrithing and beating herself against the ground, as was her\nwont; but there was no madness in her, and she did this but\nthat none might approach her. When the prince saw her thus, he\nsaid to her, 'No harm shall betide thee, O ravishment of all\ncreatures;' and went on to soothe her and speak her fair, till\nhe won to make himself known to her; whereupon she gave a loud\ncry and fell down in a swoon for excess of joy; but the King\nthought this came of her fear of him.\n\nThen the prince put his mouth to her ear and said to her, 'O\nseduction of the universe, have a care for thy life and mine\nand be patient and constant; for we have need of patience and\nskilful ordinance to make shift for our delivery from this\ntyrannical King. To begin with, I will now go out to him and\ntell him that thou art possessed of a genie, and hence thy\nmadness; but, that if he will loose thee from thy bonds, I will\nengage to heal thee and drive away the evil spirit. So, when he\ncomes in to thee, do thou give him fair words, that he may\nthink I have cured thee, and all will be accomplished as we\ndesire.' Quoth she, 'I hear and obey;' and he went out to the\nKing, full of joy and happiness, and said to him, 'O august\nKing, by thy good fortune I have discovered her disease and its\nremedy and have cured her for thee. So now do thou go in to her\nand speak softly to her and entreat her kindly, and promise her\nwhat may please her; so shall all thou desirest of her be\naccomplished to thee.' So he went in to her and when she saw\nhim, she rose and kissing the ground, bade him welcome; whereat\nhe was greatly rejoiced and bade the eunuchs and waiting-women\nattend her and carry her to the bath and make ready for her\ndresses and ornaments.\n\nSo they went in to her and saluted her, and she returned their\ngreeting, after the goodliest and pleasantest fashion; after\nwhich they clad her in royal apparel and clasping a collar of\njewels about her neck, carried her to the bath and served her\nthere. Then they brought her forth, as she were the full moon;\nand when she came into the King's presence, she saluted him and\nkissed the ground before him, whereupon he rejoiced in her with\nan exceeding joy and said to the prince, 'All this is of thy\nblessing, may God increase us of thy good offices!' Quoth the\nprince, 'O King, it behoves, for the completion of her cure,\nthat thou carry her forth, together with the ebony horse, and\nattend her with all thy troops to the place where thou foundest\nher, that there I may expel from her the evil spirit, by whom\nshe is possessed, and bind him and kill him, so he may never\nmore return to her.' 'With all my heart,' answered the King.\nThen he caused carry out the horse to the meadow in question\nand mounting, rode thither with all his troops and the princess,\nknowing not the prince's purpose.\n\nWhen they came to the appointed place, the prince bade set the\nhorse and the princess as far as the eye could reach from the\nKing and his troops and said to the former, 'With thy leave, I\nwill now proceed to the needful fumigations and conjurations\nand imprison the genie here, that he may nevermore return to\nher. After this, I shall mount the horse and take the damsel up\nbehind me; whereupon it will sway to and fro and fare forward,\ntill it come to thee, when the affair will be at an end; and\nafter this thou mayst do with her as thou wilt.' And when the\nKing heard his words, he rejoiced with an exceeding joy. So the\nprince mounted the horse and taking the princess up behind him,\nbound her fast to him, whilst the King and his troops watched\nhim. Then he turned the peg of ascent and the horse took flight\nand soared with them into the air, till he disappeared from\nsight.\n\nThe King abode half the day, expecting their return; but they\nreturned not. So, when he despaired of them, he returned to the\ncity with his troops, repenting him greatly of that which he\nhad done and grieving sore for the loss of the damsel. He shut\nhimself up in his palace, mourning and afflicted; but his\nViziers came in to him and applied themselves to comfort him,\nsaying, 'Verily, he who took the damsel is an enchanter, and\npraised be God who hath delivered thee from his craft and\nsorcery!' And they ceased not from him, till he was comforted\nfor her loss.\n\nMeanwhile, the prince bent his course, in joy and cheer,\ntowards his father's capital and stayed not, till he alighted\non his own palace, where he set the princess in safety; after\nwhich he went in to his father and mother and acquainted them\nwith her coming, whereat they rejoiced exceedingly. Then he\nmade great banquets to the townsfolk and they held high\nfestival a whole month, at the end of which time he went in to\nthe princess and they rejoiced in one another with an exceeding\njoy. But his father broke the horse in pieces and destroyed its\nworks. Moreover, the prince wrote a letter to the princess's\nfather, advising him of all that had befallen her and how she\nwas now married to him and in all health and happiness, and\nsent it by a messenger, together with costly presents and\nrarities. The messenger, in due course, arrived at the city of\nSenaa and delivered the letter and the presents to the King,\nwho, when he read the former, rejoiced greatly and accepted the\npresents, rewarding the bearer handsomely. Moreover, he sent\nrich presents to his son-in-law by the same messenger, who\nreturned to his master and acquainted him with what had passed,\nwhereat he was much cheered. And after this the prince wrote a\nletter every year to his father-in-law and sent him a present,\ntill, in course of time, his father King Sabour died and he\nreigned in his stead, ruling justly over his subjects and\nordering himself well and righteously towards them, so that\nthey submitted themselves to him and did him loyal service; and\nhe and his wife abode in the enjoyment of all delight and\nsolace of life, till there came to them the Destroyer of\nDelights and Sunderer of Companies, He that layeth waste the\npalaces and peopleth the tombs; and glory be to the Living One\nwho dieth not and in whose hand is the dominion of the Seen and\nthe Unseen!\n\n\n\n\n\n            UNS EL WUJOUD AND THE VIZIER'S DAUGHTER\n                         ROSE-IN-BUD.\n\n\n\n\nThere was once, of old days and in bygone ages and times, a\nKing of great power and glory and dominion, who had a Vizier\nnamed Ibrahim, and this Vizier had a daughter of extraordinary\nbeauty and grace, gifted with surpassing brilliancy and all\nperfection, possessed of abundant wit and perfectly accomplished.\nShe loved wine and good cheer and fair faces and choice verses\nand rare stories; and the delicacy of her charms invited all\nhearts to love, even as Saith the poet, describing her:\n\nShe shines out like the moon at full, that midst the stars doth\n     fare, And for a wrapping-veil she hath the ringlets of her\n     hair.\nThe Eastern zephyr gives her boughs to drink of all its sweets\n     And like a jointed cane, she sways to every breath of air.\nShe smiles in passing by. O thou that dost alike accord With\n     red and yellow and arrayed in each, alike art fair,\nThou sportest with my wit in love, so that indeed meseems As if\n     a sparrow in the clutch of playful urchin 'twere.\n\nHer name was Rose-in-bud and she was so named for the exceeding\ndelicacy and perfection of her beauty; and the King loved to\ncarouse with her, because of her wit and good breeding.\n\nNow it was the King's custom yearly to gather together all the\nnobles of his realm and play with the ball. So, when the day\ncame round, on which the folk assembled for ball-play, the\nVizier's daughter seated herself at her lattice, to divert\nherself by looking on at the game; and as they were at play,\nher eyes fell upon a youth among them, never was seen a\nhandsomer than he or a goodlier of favour, for he was bright of\nface, laughing-teethed, tall and broad-shouldered. She looked\nat him again and again and could not take her fill of gazing on\nhim. Then she said to her nurse, 'What is the name of yonder\nhandsome young man among the troops?' 'O my daughter,' replied\nthe nurse, 'they are all handsome. Which of them dost thou\nmean?' 'Wait till he passes,' said Rose-in-bud, 'and I will\npoint him out to thee.' So she took an apple and waited till he\ncame under her window, when she dropped it on him, whereupon he\nraised his head, to see who did this, and saw the Vizier's\ndaughter at the window, as she were the full moon in the\ndarkness of the night; nor did he withdraw his eyes, till he\nhad fallen passionately in love with her; and he recited the\nfollowing verses:\n\nWas it an archer shot me or did thine eyes undo The lover's\n     heart that saw thee, what time thou metst his view?\nDid the notched arrow reach me from midst a host, indeed, Or\n     was it from a lattice that launched at me it flew?\n\n When the game was at an end, he went away with the King,\n[whose servant and favourite he was,] with heart occupied with\nlove of her; and she said to her nurse, 'What is the name of\nthat youth I showed thee?' 'His name is Uns el Wujoud,'\nanswered she; whereat Rose-in-bud shook her head and lay down\non her couch, with a heart on fire for love. Then, sighing\ndeeply, she improvised the following verses:\n\nHe erred not who dubbed thee, \"All creatures' delight,\"[FN#75]\n     That pleasance and bounty[FN#76] at once dust unite.\nFull-moonlike of aspect, O thou whose fair face O'er all the\n     creation sheds glory and light,\nThou'rt peerless midst mortals, the sovran of grace, And many a\n     witness to this I can cite.\nThy brows are a Noun[FN#77] and shine eyes are a Sad,[FN#78]\n     That the hand of the loving Creator did write;\nThy shape is the soft, tender sapling, that gives Of its\n     bounties to all that its favours invite.\nYea, indeed, thou excellest the world's cavaliers In pleasance\n     and beauty and bounty and might.\n\nWhen she had finished, she wrote the verses on a sheet of\npaper, which she folded in a piece of gold-embroidered silk and\nlaid under her pillow. Now one of her nurses saw her; so she\ncame up to her and held her in talk, till she slept, when she\nstole the scroll from under her pillow and reading it, knew\nthat she had fallen in love with Uns el Wujoud. Then she\nreturned the scroll to its place and when her mistress awoke,\nshe said to her, 'O my lady, indeed, I am to thee a faithful\ncounsellor and am tenderly solicitous for thee. Know that\npassion is grievous and the hiding it melteth iron and causeth\nsickness and unease; nor is there reproach for whoso confesses\nit.' 'O my nurse,' rejoined Rose-in-bud,'and what is the remedy\nof passion?' 'The remedy of passion is enjoyment,' answered the\nnurse. 'And how may one come by enjoyment?' asked Rose-in-bud.\n'By letters and messages,' replied the nurse, 'and many a\ntender word and greeting; this brings lovers together and makes\nhard matters easy. So, if thou have aught at heart, mistress\nmine, I will engage to keep thy secret and do thy need and\ncarry thy letters.'\n\nWhen the girl heard this, her reason fled for joy; but she\nrestrained herself from speech, till she should see the issue\nof the matter, saying in herself, 'None knoweth this thing of\nme, nor will I trust this woman with my secret, till I have\nproved her.' Then said the nurse, 'O my lady, I saw in my sleep\nas though one came to me and said, \"Thy mistress and Uns el\nWujoud love one another; so do thou serve their loves by\ncarrying their messages and doing their need and keeping their\nsecrets; and much good shall befall thee.\" So now I have told\nthee my dream, and it is thine to decide.' 'O my nurse,' quoth\nRose-in-bud, 'canst thou keep secrets?' 'And how should I not\nkeep secrets,' answered the nurse, 'I that am of the flower of\nthe free-born?' Then Rose-in-bud pulled out the scroll, on\nwhich she had written the verses afore said, and said to her,'\nCarry this my letter to Uns el Wujoud and bring me his answer.'\n\nSo the nurse took the letter and repairing to Uns el Wujoud,\nkissed his hands and saluted him right courteously, then gave\nhim the letter; and he read it and wrote on the back the\nfollowing verses:\n\nI temper my heart in passion and hide my case as I may; But my\n     case interprets for me and doth my love bewray.\nAnd whenas my lids brim over with tears,--lest the spy should\n     see And come to fathom my secret,--\"My eye is sore,\" I\n     say.\nOf old I was empty-hearted and knew not what love was; But now\n     I am passion's bondman, my heart to love's a prey.\nTo thee I prefer my petition, complaining of passion and pain,\n     So haply thou mayst be softened and pity my dismay.\nWith the tears of my eye I have traced it, that so unto thee it\n     may The tidings of what I suffer for thee to thee convey.\nGod watch o'er a visage, that veileth itself with beauty, a\n     face That the full moon serves as a bondman and the stars\n     as slaves obey!\nYea' Allah protect her beauty, whose like I ne'er beheld! The\n     boughs from her graceful carriage, indeed, might learn to\n     sway.\nI beg thee to grant me a visit; algates, if it irk thee nought.\n     An thou knewst how dearly I'd prize it, thou wouldst not\n     say me nay.\nI give thee my life, so haply thou mayst accept it: to me Thy\n     presence is life eternal and hell thy turning away.\n\nThen he folded the letter and kissing it, gave it to the nurse\nand said to her, 'O nurse, incline thy lady's heart to me.' 'I\nhear and obey,' answered she and carried the letter to her\nmistress, who kissed it and laid it on her head, then wrote at\nthe foot of it these verses:\n\nHarkye, thou whose heart is taken with my grace and loveliness,\n     Have but patience, and right surely thou my favours shalt\n     possess.\nWhen we were assured the passion thou avouchedst was sincere\n     And that that which us betided had betided thee no less,\nGladly had we then vouchsafed thee what thou sighedst for, and\n     more; But our guardians estopped us to each other from\n     access.\nWhen night darkens on the dwellings, fires are lighted in our\n     heart And our entrails burn within us, for desire and\n     love's excess.\nYea, for love and longing, slumber is a stranger to our couch\n     And the burning pangs of fever do our body sore distress.\n'Twas a law of passion ever, love and longing to conceal; Lift\n     not thou the curtain from us nor our secret aye\n     transgress.\nAh, my heart is overflowing with the love of yon gazelle; Would\n     it had not left our dwellings for the distant wilderness.\n\nThen she folded the letter and gave it to the nurse, who took\nit and went out to go to the young man; but as she went forth\nthe door, her master met her and said to her, 'Whither away?'\n'To the bath,' answered she; but, in her trouble, she dropped\nthe letter, without knowing it, and one of the servants, seeing\nit lying in the way, picked it up. When she came without the\ndoor, she sought for it, but found it not, so turned back to\nher mistress and told her of this and what had befallen her\nwith the Vizier.\n\nMeanwhile, the latter came out of the harem and seated himself\non his couch. Presently, the servant, who had picked up the\nletter, came in to him, with it in his hand, and said, 'O my\nlord, I found this paper lying on the floor and picked it up.'\nSo the Vizier took it from his hand, folded as it was, and\nopening it, read the verses above set down. Then he examined\nthe writing and knew it for his daughter's hand; whereupon he\nwent in to her mother, weeping so sore that his beard was\ndrenched. 'What makes thee weep, O my lord?' asked she; and he\nanswered, 'Take this letter and see what is therein.' So she\ntook it and saw it to be a love-letter from her daughter\nRose-in-bud to Uns el Wujoud; whereupon the tears sprang to her\neyes; but she mastered herself and swallowing her tears, said\nto her husband, 'O my lord, there is no profit in weeping: the\nright course is to cast about for a means of preserving thine\nhonour and concealing thy daughter's affair.' And she went on\nto comfort him and lighten his trouble. Quoth he, 'I am fearful\nof what may ensue this passion of my daughter, and that for two\nreasons. The first concerns myself; it is, that she is my daughter;\nthe second, that Uns el Wujoud is a favourite with the Sultan,\nwho loves him with an exceeding love, and maybe great troubles\nshall come of this affair. What deemest thou of the matter?'\n'Wait,' answered she, 'whilst I pray to God for direction.'\nSo she prayed a two-bow prayer, according to the prophetic\nordinance of the prayer for divine guidance; after which she\nsaid to her husband, 'Amiddleward the Sea of Treasures stands\na mountain called the Mount of the Bereaved Mother,' (the cause\nof which being so named shall follow in its place, if it be the\nwill of God,) 'and thither can none come, save with difficulty;\ndo thou make her an abiding-place there.'\n\nSo the Vizier and his wife agreed to build, on the mountain in\nquestion, a strong castle and lodge his daughter therein with a\nyear's victual, to be annually renewed, and attendants to serve\nand keep her company. Accordingly, he collected builders and\ncarpenters and architects and despatched them to the mountain,\nwhere they builded her an impregnable castle, never saw eyes\nits like. Then he made ready victual and carriage for the\njourney and going in to his daughter by night, bade her make\nready to set out on a pleasure-excursion. She refused to set\nout by night, but he was instant with her, till she went forth;\nand when she saw the preparations for the journey, her heart\nmisgave her of separation from her beloved and she wept sore\nand wrote upon the door the following verses, to acquaint him\nwith what had passed and with the transports of passion and\ngrief that were upon her, transports such as would make the\nflesh quake, that would cause the hearts of stones to melt and\neyes to overflow with tears:\n\nBy Allah, O house, if the loved one pass in the morning-glow\n     And greet with the greeting of lovers, as they pass to and\n     fro,\nGive him our salutation, a pure and fragrant one, For that we\n     have departed, and whither he may not know.\nWhy on this wise they hurry me off by stealth, anights And\n     lightly equipped, I know not, nor whither with me they go.\nNeath cover of night and darkness, they carry me forth, alack I\n     Whilst the birds in the brake bewail us and make their\n     moan for our woe;\nAnd the tongue of the case interprets their language and cries,\n     \"Alas, Alas for the pain of parting from those that we\n     love, heigho!\"\nWhen I saw that the cups of sev'rance were filled and that\n     Fate, indeed, Would give us to drink of its bitter,\n     unmingled, would we or no,\nI blended the draught with patience becoming, as best I might;\n     But patience avails not to solace my heart for your loss,\n     I trow.\n\nThen she mounted, and they set forward with her and fared on\nover desert and plain and hill, till they came to the shore of\nthe Sea of Treasures, where they pitched their tents and built\na great ship, in which they embarked her and her suite and\ncarried them over to the mountain. Here they left them in the\ncastle and making their way back to the shore, broke up the\nvessel, in obedience to the Vizier's commandment, and returned\nhome, weeping over what had befallen.\n\nMeanwhile, Uns el Wujoud arose from sleep and prayed the\nmorning prayer, after which he mounted and rode forth to wait\nupon the Sultan. On his way, he passed by the Vizier's house,\nthinking to see some of his followers, as of wont, but saw no\none and drawing near the door, read the verses aforesaid\nwritten thereon. At this sight, his senses failed him; fire was\nkindled in his vitals and he returned to his lodging, where he\npassed the rest of the day in ceaseless trouble and anxiety,\nwithout finding ease or patience, till night darkened upon him,\nwhen his transport redoubled. So he put off his clothes and\ndisguising himself in a fakir's habit, set out, at a venture,\nunder cover of the night, distraught and knowing not whither he\nwent.\n\nHe wandered on all that night and next day, till the heat of\nthe sun grew fierce and the mountains flamed like fire and\nthirst was grievous upon him. Presently, he espied a tree, by\nwhose side was a spring of running water; so he made towards it\nand sitting down in the shade, on the bank of the rivulet,\nessayed to drink, but found that the water had no taste in his\nmouth. Then, [looking in the stream,] he saw that his body was\nwasted, his colour changed and his face grown pale and his,\nfeet, to boot, swollen with walking and weariness. So he shed\ncopious tears and repeated the following verses:\n\nThe lover is drunken with love of his fair; In longing and heat\n     he redoubles fore'er.\nLove-maddened, confounded, distracted, perplexed, No dwelling\n     is pleasant to him and no fare.\nFor how, to a lover cut off from his love, Can life be\n     delightsome? 'Twere strange an it were.\nI melt with the fire of my passion for her And the tears down\n     my cheek roll and never forbear.\nShall I ever behold her or one from her stead, With whom I may\n     solace my heart in despair?\n\nAnd he wept till he wet the ground; after which he rose and\nfared on again over deserts and wilds, till there came out upon\nhim a lion, with a neck buried in hair, a head the bigness of a\ndome, a mouth wider than the door [thereof] and teeth like\nelephants' tusks. When Uns el Wujoud saw him, he gave himself up\nfor lost and turning towards Mecca, pronounced the professions\nof the faith and prepared for death.\n\nNow he had read in books that whoso will flatter the lion,\nbeguileth him, for that he is lightly duped by fair words and\nglorieth in praise; so he began and said, 'O lion of the forest\nand the waste! O unconquerable warrior! O father of heroes and\nSultan of wild beasts! Behold, I am a desireful lover, whom\npassion and severance have undone. Since I parted from my\nbeloved, I have lost my reason; wherefore, do thou hearken to\nmy speech and have ruth on my passion and love-longing.' When\nthe lion heard this, he drew back from him and sitting down on\nhis hind-quarters, raised his head to him and began to frisk\nhis tail and paws to him; which when Uns el Wujoud saw, he\nrecited these verses:\n\nWilt slay me, O lord of the desert, before My enslaver I meet\n     with, e'en her I adore?\nNo fat on me is; I'm no booty for thee; For the loss of my\n     loved one hath wasted me sore.\nYea, my love's separation hath worn out my soul, And I'm grown\n     like a shape, with a shroud covered o'er.\nGive the railers not cause to exult in my woe, O prince of the\n     spoilers, O lion of war!\nA lover, all sleepless for loss of my dear, I'm drowned in the\n     tears from mine eyelids that pour;\nAnd my pining for her in the darkness of night Hath robbed me,\n     for passion, of reason and lore.\n\nWhen he had finished, the lion rose and coming softly up to\nhim, with his eyes full of tears, licked him with his tongue,\nthen walked on before him, signing to him, as who should say,\n'Follow me.' So he followed him, and he led him on till he\nbrought him, over a mountain, to the farther side, where he\ncame upon the track of a caravan and knew it to be that of\nRose-in-bud and her company. When the lion saw that he knew the\ntrack and set himself to follow it, he turned back and went his\nway; whilst Uns el Wujoud followed the foot-marks, till they\nbrought him to a surging sea, swollen with clashing billows. The\ntrail led down to the water's edge and there broke off; whereby\nhe knew that they had taken ship there and had continued their\njourney by sea. So he lost hope of finding his beloved and\nrepeated the following verses, weeping sore:\n\nFar's the place of visitation and my patience faileth me For my\n     love; but how to reach her o'er the abysses of the sea?\nWhen, for love of her, my vitals are consumed and I've forsworn\n     Slumber, sleep for wake exchanging, ah, how can I patient\n     be?\nSince the day she left the homesteads and departed, hath my\n     heart Burnt with never-ceasing anguish, all a-fire with\n     agony.\nOxus and Jaxartes, running like Euphrates, are my tears; More\n     than rain and flood abounding, run like rivers to the sea.\nUlcerated are my eyelids with the running of the tears, And my\n     heart on fires of passion's burnt and wasted utterly.\nYea, the armies of my longing and my transport on me pressed,\n     And the hosts of my endurance did before them break and\n     flee.\nLavishly my life I've ventured for the love of her; for life Is\n     the lightest to a lover of all ventures, verily.\nBe an eye of God unpunished that beheld the beauteous one, Than\n     the moon how much more splendid, in the harem's sanctuary!\nStruck was I and smitten prostrate by wide-opened eyes, whose\n     shafts, From a bow all stringless loosened, pierced the\n     hapless heart of me.\nBy the soft and flexile motions of her shape she captived me,\n     Swaying as the limber branches sway upon the cassia-tree.\nUnion with her I covet, that therewith I may apply Solace to\n     the pains of passion, love and care and misery.\nFor the love of her, afflicted, as I am, I have become; All\n     that's fallen on me betided from the evil eye, perdie.\n\nThen he wept, till he swooned away, and abode in his swoon a\nlong while. When he came to himself, he looked right and left\nand seeing none in the desert, was fearful of the wild beasts;\nso he climbed to the top of a high mountain, where he heard a\nman's voice speaking within a cavern. He listened and found it\nto be that of a devotee, who had forsworn the world and given\nhimself up to pious exercises. So he knocked thrice at the\ncavern door; but the hermit made him no answer, neither came\nforth to him; wherefore he sighed heavily and recited the\nfollowing verses:\n\nWhat way is open unto me, to my desire to get And put off\n     weariness and toil and trouble and regret?\nAll pains and terrors have combined on me, to make me hoar And\n     old of head and heart, whilst I a very child am yet.\nI find no friend to solace me of longing and unease' Nor one\n     'gainst passion and its stress to aid me and abet.\nAlas, the torments I endure for waste and wistful love!\n     Fortune, meseems, 'gainst me is turned and altogether set.\nAh, woe's me for the lover's pain, unresting, passion-burnt,\n     Him who in parting's bitter cup his lips perforce hath\n     wet!\nHis wit is ravished clean away by separation's woe, Fire in his\n     heart and all consumed his entrails by its fret.\nAh, what a dreadful day it was, when to her stead I came And\n     that, which on the door was writ, my eyes confounded met!\nI wept, until I gave the earth to drink of my despair; But\n     still from friend and foe I hid the woes that me beset.\nThen strayed I forth till, in the waste, a lion sprang on me\n     And would have slain me straight; but him with flattering\n     words I met\nAnd soothed him. So he spared my life and succoured me, as\n     'twere He too had known love's taste and been entangled in\n     its net.\nYet, for all this, could I but win to come to my desire, All,\n     that I've suffered and endured, straightway I should\n     forget.\nO thou, that harbour'st in thy cave, distracted from the world,\n     Meseems thou'st tasted love and been its slave, O\n     anchoret!\n\nHardly had he made an end of these verses when, behold, the\ndoor of the cavern opened and he heard one say' 'Alas, the pity\nof it I' So he entered and saluted the hermit, who returned his\ngreeting and said to him, 'What is thy name?' 'Uns el Wujoud,'\nanswered the young man. 'And what brings thee hither?' asked\nthe hermit. So he told him his whole story, whereat he wept and\nsaid' 'O Uns el Wujoud, these twenty years have I dwelt in this\nplace, but never beheld I any here, till the other day, when I\nheard a noise of cries and weeping, and looking forth in the\ndirection of the sound, saw much people and tents pitched on\nthe sea-shore. They built a ship, in which they embarked and\nsailed away. Then some of them returned with the ship and\nbreaking it up, went their way; and methinks those, who\nembarked in the ship and returned not, are they whom thou\nseekest. In that case, thy trouble must needs be grievous and\nthou art excusable; though never yet was lover but suffered\nsorrows.' Then he recited the following verses:\n\nUns el Wujoud, thou deem'st me free of heart, but, wel-a-way!\n     Longing and transport and desire fold and unfold me aye.\nYea, love and passion have I known even from my earliest years,\n     Since at my mother's nursing breast a suckling babe I lay.\nI struggled sore and long with Love, till I his power\n     confessed. If thou enquire at him of me, he will me not\n     unsay.\nI quaffed the cup of passion out, with languor and disease, And\n     as a phantom I became for pining and decay.\nStrong was I, but my strength is gone and neath the swords of\n     eyes, The armies of my patience broke and vanished clean\n     away.\nHope not to win delight of love, without chagrin and woe; For\n     contrary with contrary conjoined is alway.\nBut fear not change from lover true; do thou but constant be\n     Unto thy wish, and thou shalt sure be happy yet some day:\nFor unto lovers passion hath ordained that to forget Is heresy,\n     forbidden all its mandates that obey.\n\nThen he rose and coming to the youth, embraced him, and they\nwept together, till the hills rang with their crying and they\nfell down in a swoon. When they revived, they swore brotherhood\nin God the Most High, and the hermit said to Uns el Wujoud,\n'This night will I pray to God and seek of Him direction what\nthou shouldst do to attain thy desire.'\n\nTo return to Rose-in-bud. When they brought her into the castle\nand she beheld its ordinance, she wept and exclaimed, 'By\nAllah, thou art a goodly place, save that thou lackest the\npresence of the beloved in thee!' Then, seeing [many] birds in\nthe island, she bade her people set snares for them and hang up\nall they caught in cages within the castle; and they did so. But\nshe sat at a window of the castle and bethought her of what had\npassed, and passion and transport and love-longing redoubled\nupon her, till she burst into tears and repeated the following\nverses:\n\nTo whom, of my desire complaining, shall I cry, To whom, for\n     loss of loves and parting's sorrow, sigh?\nFlames rage within my breast, but I reveal them not, For fear\n     lest they my case discover to the spy.\nI'm grown as thin as e'er a bodkin's wood, so worn With absence\n     and lament and agony am I.\nWhere is the loved one's eye, to see how I'm become Even as a\n     blasted tree, stripped bare and like to die?\nThey wronged me, when they shut me prisoner in a place, Wherein\n     my love, alas I may never come me nigh.\nGreetings a thousandfold I beg the sun to bear, What time he\n     riseth up and setteth from the sky,\nTo a beloved one, who puts the moon to shame, For loveliness,\n     and doth the Indian cane outvie.\nIf the rose ape his cheek, \"Now God forfend,\" I say, \"That of\n     my portion aught to pilfer thou shouldst try.\"\nLo, in his mouth are springs of limpid water sweet, Refreshment\n     that would bring to those in flames who lie.\nHow shall I one forget who is my heart and soul, My malady and\n     he that healing can apply?\n\nThen, as the shadows darkened upon her, her longing increased\nand she called to mind the past and recited these verses also:\n\nThe shadows darken and passion stirs up my sickness amain And\n     longing rouses within me the old desireful pain.\nThe anguish of parting hath taken its sojourn in my breast And\n     love and longing and sorrow have maddened heart and brain.\nPassion hath made me restless and yearning consumes my soul And\n     tears discover my secret, that else concealed had lain.\nI know of no way to ease me of sickness and care and woe; Nor\n     can my weak endeavour reknit Love's severed skein.\nMy heart is a raging furnace, because of the heat whereof My\n     entrails are racked with anguish, that nothing can assain.\nO thou, that thinkest to blame me for what is fallen on me,\n     Enough, I suffer with patience whatever the Fates ordain.\nI swear I shall ne'er find comfort nor be consoled for them,\n     The oath of the children of passion, whose oaths are never\n     in vain!\nBear tidings, O night, to my dear ones and greet them and\n     witness bear That thou knowest in thee I sleep not, but\n     ever to wake am fain.\n\nMeanwhile, the hermit said to Uns el Wujoud, 'Go down into the\nvalley and fetch me palm-fibre.' So he went and returned with\nthe palm-fibre, which the hermit took and twisting into ropes,\nmade therewith a net, such as is used for carrying straw; after\nwhich he said to the youth, 'O Uns el Wujoud, in the heart of\nthe valley grows a gourd, which springs up and dries upon its\nroots. Go thither and fill this net therewith; then tie it\ntogether and casting it into the water, embark thereon and make\nfor the midst of the sea, so haply thou shalt come to thy\ndesire; for he, who adventureth not himself, shall not attain\nthat he seeketh.' 'I hear and obey,' answered Uns el Wujoud and\nbidding the hermit farewell after he had prayed for him, betook\nhimself to the hollow of the valley, where he did as he had\ncounselled him and launched out upon the water, supported by\nthe net.\n\nThen there arose a wind, which drove him out to sea, till he\nwas lost to the hermit's view; and he ceased not to fare on\nover the abysses of the ocean, one billow tossing him up on the\ncrest of the wave and another bearing him down into the trough\nof the sea, and he beholding the while the terrors and wonders\nof the deep, for the space of three days, at the end of which\ntime Fate cast him upon the Mount of the Bereft Mother, where\nhe landed, weak and giddy as a fledgling bird, for hunger and\nthirst; but, finding there streams running and birds warbling\non the branches and fruit-laden trees, growing in clusters and\nsingly, he ate of the fruits and drank of the streams. Then he\nwalked on till he saw some white thing alar off, and making for\nit, found that it was a strongly-fortified castle. So he went\nup to the gate and finding it locked, sat down by it.\n\nHe sat thus three days and on the fourth, the gate opened and\nan eunuch came out, who seeing Uns el Wujoud seated there, said\nto him, 'Whence comest thou and who brought thee hither?' Quoth\nhe, 'I come from Ispahan and was travelling by sea with\nmerchandise, when my ship was wrecked and the waves cast me\nupon this island.' When the eunuch heard this, he wept and\nembraced him, saying, 'God preserve thee, O [thou that bringest\nme the] fragrance of the beloved! Ispahan is my own country and\nI have there a cousin, the daughter of my father's brother,\nwhom I loved and cherished from a child; but a people stronger\nthan we fell upon us and taking me among other booty, docked me\nand sold me for an eunuch, whilst I was yet a lad; and this is\nhow I come to be what I am.' Then he carried him into the\ncourtyard of the castle, where he saw a great basin of water,\nsurrounded by trees, on whose branches hung cages of silver,\nwith doors of gold, and therein birds warbling and singing the\npraises of the Requiting King. In the first cage he came to was\na turtle dove which, seeing him, raised her voice and cried\nout, saying, 'O Bountiful One!'[FN#79] Whereat he fell down in\na swoon, but, presently coming to himself, sighed heavily and\nrecited the following verses:\n\nO turtle, art thou mad for love, as is my case? Then sing, 'O\n     Bountiful!' and seek the Lord His grace!\nTell me, doth thy descant in joyance tale its rise Or in\n     desireful pain, that in thy heart hath place?\nIf for desire thou moan'st of bygone loves or pin'st For dear\n     ones that have gone and left thee but their trace,\nOr if thou'st lost thy love, like me, ah, then, indeed,\n     Severance long-felt desire discovereth apace.\nGod guard a lover true! Though my bones rot, nor time Nor\n     absence from my heart her image shall efface.\n\nThen he fainted again and presently coming to his senses, went\non to the second cage, wherein he found a ring-dove. When it\nsaw him, it sang out, 'O Eternal, I praise thee!' and he sighed\nand recited these verses:\n\nI heard a ring-dove say in her plaintive note, \"Despite of my\n     woes, O Eternal, I praise Thee still!\"\nAnd God, of His grace, reunion of our loves, in this my travel,\n     may yet to us fulfil.\nShe visits me oft,[FN#80] with her dusk-red honeyed lips, And\n     lends to the passion within me an added thrill.\nAnd I cry, whilst the fires in my tortured heart flame high And\n     my soul for ardour consumes and my eyes distil\nTears that resemble blood and withouten cease Pour down on my\n     wasted cheeks in many a rill,\nThere's none created without affliction, and I Must bear with\n     patience my tribulations, until\nThe hour of solace with her I love one day Unite me. Ah, then,\n     by God His power and will,\nIn succouring lovers, I vow, I'll spend my good, For they're of\n     my tribe and category still;\nAnd eke from prison I'll loose the birds, to boot, And leave,\n     for joyance, the thought of every ill!\n\nThen he went on to the third cage, in which was a mocking-bird.\nWhen it saw him, it set up a song, and he recited the following\nverses:\n\nThe mocking-bird delighteth me with his harmonious strain, As\n     'twere a lover's voice that pines and wastes for love in\n     vain.\nWoe's me for those that lovers be! How many a weary night, For\n     love and anguish and desire, to waken they are fain!\n'Twould seem as if they had no part in morning or in sleep, For\n     all the stress of love and woe that holds their heart and\n     brain.\nWhen I became distraught for her I love and wistfulness Bound\n     me in fetters strait, the tears from out mine eyes did\n     rain\nSo thick and fast, they were as chains, and I to her did say,\n     \"My tears have fallen so thick, that now they've bound me\n     with a chain.\"\nThe treasures of my patience fail, absence is long on me And\n     yearning sore; and passion's stress consumeth me amain.\nIf God's protection cover me and Fortune be but just And Fate\n     with her whom I adore unite me once again,\nI'll doff my clothes, that she may see how worn my body is, For\n     languishment and severance and solitary pain.\n\nThen he went on to the fourth cage, where he found a\nnightingale, which, at sight of him, began to tune its\nplaintive note. When he heard its descant, he burst into tears\nand repeated the following verses:\n\nThe nightingale's note, when the dawning is near, Distracts\n     from the lute-strings the true lover's ear.\nComplaineth, for love-longing, Uns el Wujoud, Of a passion that\n     blotteth his being out sheer.\nHow many sweet notes, that would soften, for mirth, The\n     hardness of iron and stone, do I hear!\nThe zephyr of morning brings tidings to me Of meadows,\n     full-flower'd for the blossoming year.\nThe scents on the breeze and the music of birds, In the\n     dawning, transport me with joyance and cheer.\nBut I think of a loved one, that's absent from me, And mine\n     eyes rain in torrents, with tear upon tear;\nAnd the ardour of longing flames high in my breast, As a fire\n     in the heart of a brasier burns clear.\nMay Allah vouchsafe to a lover distraught To see and foregather\n     once more with his dear!\nYea, for lovers, heart-sickness and longing and woe And wake\n     are excuses that plainly appear.\n\nThen he went on a little and came to a handsome cage, than\nwhich there was no goodlier there, and in it a culver, that is\nto Say, a wood-pigeon, the bird renowned among the birds as the\nsinger of love-longing, with a collar of jewels about its neck,\nwonder-goodly of ordinance. He considered it awhile and seeing\nit mazed and brooding in its cage, shed tears and repeated\nthese verses:\n\nO culver of the copse, may peace upon thee light, O friend of\n     all who love and every wistful wight!\nI love a young gazelle, a slender one, whose glance Than\n     sharpest sabre's point is keener and more bright.\nFor love of her, my heart and entrails are a-fire And\n     sicknesses consume my body and my spright.\nThe sweet of pleasant food's forbidden unto me, And eke I am\n     denied the taste of sleep's delight.\nSolace and fortitude have taken flight from me, And love and\n     longing lodge with me, both day and night.\nHow shall my life be sweet to me, while she's afar, That is my\n     life, my wish, the apple of my sight?\n\nWhen the pigeon heard these verses, it awoke from its brooding\nand cooed and warbled and trilled, till it all but spoke; and\nthe tongue of the case interpreted for it and recited the\nfollowing verses:\n\nO lover, thy wailings recall to my mind The time when my youth\n     from me wasted and dwined,\nAnd A mistress, whose charms and whose grace I adored,\n     Seductive and fair over all of her kind;\nWhose voice, from the twigs of the sandhill upraised, Left the\n     strains of the flute, to my thought, far behind.\nA snare set the fowler and caught me, who cried, \"Would he d\n     leave me to range at my will on the wind!\"\nI had hoped he was clement or seeing that I Was a lover, would\n     pity my lot and be kind;\nBut no, (may God smite him!) he tore me away From my dear and\n     apart from her harshly confined.\nSince then, my desire for her grows without cease, And my heart\n     with the fires of disjunction is mined.\nGod guard a true lover, who striveth with love And hath\n     suffered the torments in which I have pined!\nWhen he seeth me languish for love in my cage, He will loose\n     me, in mercy, my loved one to find\n\n Then Uns el Wujoud turned to his friend, the Ispahani and said\nto him, 'What palace is this? Who built it and who abideth in\nit?' Quoth the eunuch, 'The Vizier of King Shamikh built it\nfor his daughter, fearing for her the assaults of fate and the\nvicissitudes of fortune, and lodged her therein, with her\nattendants; nor do we open it save once in every year, when our\nvictual comes to us.' And Uns el Wujoud said in himself, 'I\nhave gained my end' though after long travail.'\n\nMeanwhile, Rose-in-bud took no delight in eating nor drinking,\nsitting nor sleeping; but her transport and passion and\nlove-longing redoubled on her, and she went wandering about the\ncastle, but could find no issue; wherefore she shed plenteous\ntears and recited the following verses:\n\nThey have prisoned me straitly from him I adore And given me to\n     eat of mine anguish galore.\nMy heart with the flames of love-longing they fired, When me\n     from the sight of my loved one they bore.\nThey have cloistered me close in a palace built high On a mount\n     in the midst of a sea without shore.\nIf they'd have me forget, their endeavour is vain, For my love\n     but redoubles upon me the more.\nHow can I forget him, when all I endure Arose from the sight of\n     his face heretofore?\nMy days are consumed in lament, and my nights Pass in thinking\n     of him, as I knew him of yore.\nHis memory my solace in solitude is, Since the lack of his\n     presence I needs must deplore.\nI wonder, will Fate grant my heart its desire And my love,\n     after all, to my wishes restore!\n\nThen she donned her richest clothes and trinkets and threw a\nnecklace of jewels around her neck; after which she ascended to the\nroof of the castle and tying some strips of Baalbek stuff together,\n[to serve for a rope], made them fast to the battlements and let\nherself down thereby to the ground. Then she fared on over wastes\nand wilds, till she came to the sea-shore, where she saw a\nfishing-boat, and therein a fisherman, whom the wind had driven\non to the island, as he went, fishing here and there, on the sea.\nWhen he saw her, he was affrighted, [ taking her for a Jinniyeh]\nand put out again to sea; but she cried out and made pressing\nsigns to him to return, reciting the following verses:\n\nHarkye, O fisherman, fear thou no injury; I'm but an earthly\n     maid, a mortal like to thee.\nI do implore thee, stay, give ear unto my prayer And hearken to\n     my true and woeful history.\nPity, (so God thee spare,) the ardour [of my love,] And say if\n     thou hast seen a loved one, fled from me.\nI love a fair-faced youth and goodly; brighter far Of aspect\n     than the face of sun or moon is he.\nThe antelope, that sees his glances, cries, \"His slave Am I,\"\n     and doth confess inferiority.\nYea, beauty on his brow these pregnant words hath writ In very\n     dust of musk, significant to see,\n\"Who sees the light of love is in the way of right, And he who\n     strays commits foul sin and heresy.\"\nAn thou have ruth on me and bring me to his sight, O rare!\n     Whate'er thou wilt thy recompense shall be;\nRubies and precious stones and freshly gathered pearls And\n     every kind of gem that is in earth and sea.\nSurely, O friend, thou wilt with my desire comply; For all my\n     heart's on fire with love and agony.\n\nWhen the fisherman heard this, he wept and sighed and lamented;\nthen, recalling what had betided himself in the days of his\nyouth, when love had the mastery over him and transport and\nlove-longing and distraction were sore upon him and the fires\nof passion consumed him, replied with these verses:\n\nIndeed, the lover's excuse is manifest, Wasting of body and\n     streaming tears, unrest,\nEyes, in the darkness that waken still, and heart, As 'twere a\n     fire-box, bespeak him love-oppress.\nPassion, indeed, afflicted me in youth, And I good money from\n     bad learnt then to test.\nMy soul I bartered, a distant love to win; To gain her favours,\n     I wandered East and West;\nAnd eke I ventured my life against her grace And deemed the\n     venture would bring me interest.\nFor law of lovers it is that whoso buys His love's possession\n     with life, he profits best.\n\nThen he moored his boat to the shore and bade her embark,\nsaying, 'I will carry thee whither thou wilt.' So she embarked\nand he put off with her; but they had not gone far, before\nthere came out a stern-wind upon the boat and drove it swiftly\nout of sight of land. The fisherman knew not whither he went,\nand the wind blew without ceasing three days, at the end of\nwhich time it fell, by leave of God the Most High, and they\nsailed on, till they came in sight of a city builded upon the\nseashore, and the fisherman set about making fast to the land.\n\nNow the King of the city, a very powerful prince called Dirbas,\nwas at that moment sitting, with his son, at a window in the\npalace giving upon the sea, and chancing to look out to\nsea-ward, they saw the fishing-boat enter the harbour. They\nobserved it narrowly and espied therein a young lady, as she\nwere the full moon in the mid-heaven, with pendants in her ears\nof fine balass rubies and a collar of precious stones about her\nneck. So the King knew that this must be the daughter of some\nking or great noble, and going forth of the sea-gate of the\npalace, went down to the boat, where he found the lady asleep\nand the fisherman busied in making fast to the shore. He went\nup to her and aroused her, whereupon she awoke, weeping; and he\nsaid to her, 'Whence comest thou and whose daughter art thou\nand what brings thee hither?' 'I am the daughter of Ibrahim,\nVizier to King Shamikh,' answered she; 'and the manner of my\ncoming hither is strange and the cause thereof extraordinary.'\nAnd she told him her whole story, hiding nought from him; then\nshe sighed deeply and recited the following verses:\n\nTears have mine eyelids wounded sore, and wonder-fast they flow\n     Adown my cheek for parting's pain and memory and woe,\nFor a beloved's sake, who dwells for ever in my heart, Though\n     to foregather with himself I cannot win, heigho!\nFair, bright and brilliant is his face, in loveliness and\n     grace, Turk, Arab and barbarian he cloth indeed o'ercrow.\nThe full moon and the sun contend in deference to him, And when\n     he rises into sight, they, lover-like, bend low.\nHis eyes with wondrous witchery are decked, as 'twere with\n     kohl; Even as a bow, that's bent to shoot its shafts, to\n     thee they show.\nO thou, to whom I have perforce revealed my case, have ruth On\n     one with whom the shifts of love have sported long eno'.\nLo, broken-hearted, Love hath cast me up upon thy coast,\n     Wherefore I trust that thou on me fair favour wilt bestow.\nThe noble who, when folk of worth alight within their bounds,\n     Do honour and protect them, win increase of glory so.\nCover thou then, my lord, my hope, two lovers' follies up And\n     let them to thy succouring hand their loves' reunion owe.\n\nThen she shed plenteous tears and recited these verses also:\n\nI lived, a marvel till I saw in love, then lived no mo'; Each\n     month to thee as Rejeb[FN#81] be, as free from fear of\n     foe!\nIs it not strange that, on the morn they went away, I lit Fire\n     in my vitals with the tears that from mine eyes did flow?\nIndeed, mine eyelids ran with blood, and on the wasted plain Of\n     my sad cheek, that therewithal was watered, gold did grow.\nYea, for the safflower hue, that thence o'erspread my cheeks,\n     they seem The shirt of Joseph, steeped in blood, to make a\n     lying show.\n\nWhen the King heard this, he was certified of her passion and\nlove-longing and was moved to compassion for her; so he said to\nher, 'Fear nothing and be not troubled; thou hast attained the\nterm of thy wishes; for needs must I bring thee to thy desire.'\nAnd he recited the following verses:\n\nDaughter if nobles, thou hast reached thy wishes' goal, I trow:\n     In happy presage then rejoice and fear not any woe.\nTreasures this very day, will I collect and neath escort Of\n     horsemen and of champions, to Shamikh they shall go.\nBrocade and bladders full of musk I will to him despatch And\n     eke white silver and red gold I'll send to him also.\nYea, and a letter neath my hand my wish for ties of kin And for\n     alliance with himself shall give him eke to know;\nAnd all endeavour will I use, forthwith, that he thou lov'st\n     Once more with thee may be conjoined, to part from thee no\n     mo.\nI, too, have battened upon love and know the taste thereof And\n     can excuse the folk who've quaffed the self-same cup of\n     woe.\n\nThen, returning to his palace, he summoned his Vizier and\ncausing pack him up countless treasure, bade him carry it to\nKing Shamikh and say to him, 'The King is minded to ally\nhimself with thee by marrying Uns el Wujoud, shine officer, to\nhis daughter. So needs must thou send him with me, that the\nmarriage may be solemnized in her father's kingdom.' And he\nwrote a letter to King Shamikh, to this effect, and gave it to\nthe Vizier, charging him without fail bring back Uns el Wujoud,\non pain of deposition from his office. 'I hear and obey,'\nanswered the Vizier and setting out forthright, in due course\narrived at the court of King Shamikh, to whom he delivered the\nletter and presents, saluting him in the name of King Dirbas.\nWhen Shamikh read the letter and saw the name of Uns el Wujoud,\nhe burst into tears and said to the Vizier, 'And where is Uns\nel Wujoud? He went away, and we know not his place of abiding.\nBring him to me, and I will give thee the sum of the presents\nthou hast brought me, twice told.' And he wept and sighed and\ngroaned, reciting the following verses:\n\nHim whom I loved to me restore; By gold and gifts I set no\n     store.\nNor do I crave largesse, indeed, Of pearls and gems and\n     precious ore.\nAs 'twere a moon at full, for us, In beauty's heaven he did\n     soar.\nPassing in wit and grace, gazelles With him comparison gave\n     o'er.\nHis shape was as a willow-wand, For fruits that sweet\n     seductions bore;\nBut in the willow, to enslave The hearts of men, there is no\n     lore.\nI reared him from a child upon The bed of fondness evermore;\nAnd now I am at heart distraught For him and sorrow passing\n     sore.\n\nThen said he to the Vizier, 'Go back to thy master and tell him\nthat Uns el Wujoud has been missing this year past, and his\nlord knoweth not whither he is gone nor hath any news of him.'\n'O my lord,' answered King Dirbas's Vizier, 'my master said to\nme, \"An thou come back without him, thou shalt be ousted from\nthe Vizierate and shall not enter my city.\" How then can I\nreturn without him?' So King Shamikh said to his Vizier\nIbrahim, 'Take a company and go with him and make search for\nUns el Wujoud everywhere.' 'I hear and obey,' answered Ibrahim,\nand taking a company of his own retainers, set out in quest of\nUns el Wujoud, accompanied by King Dirbas's Vizier; and as\noften as they fell in with Bedouins or others, they enquired at\nthem of Uns el Wujoud, saying, 'Have ye seen a man, whose name\nis so and so and his favour thus and thus?' But they answered,\n'We know him not.'\n\nSo they fared on, enquiring in city and hamlet and seeking in\nhill and plain and desert and wold, till they came to the\nsea-shore, where they took ship and sailed, till they came to\nthe Mountain of the Bereaved Mother; and King Dirbas's Vizier\nsaid to Ibrahim, 'Why is this mountain thus called?' 'There was\nonce of old time,' answered the other Vizier, 'a Jinniych, of\nthe Jinn of China, who fell passionately in love with a man and\nbeing in fear of her own people, searched all the earth for a\nplace, where she might hide him from them, till she happened on\nthis mountain and finding it inaccessible both to men and Jinn,\ncarried off her beloved and lodged him therein. There she used\nto visit him privily, till she had borne him a number of\nchildren, and the merchants, sailing by the mountain, in their\nvoyages over the sea, heard the weeping of the children, as it\nwere the wailing of a woman who had lost her young, and said,\n\"Is there here a mother bereaved of her children?\" For which\nreason the place was named the Mountain of the Bereaved\nMother.' And King Dirbas's Vizier marvelled at this.\n\nThen they landed and making for the castle, knocked at the gate,\nwhich was opened to them by an eunuch, who knew the Vizier\nIbrahim and kissed his hands. Ibrahim entered and finding in\nthe courtyard, among the serving men, a man in the habit of a\nfakir,[FN#82] said. 'Whence comes yonder fellow?' Quoth they,\n'He is a merchant, who hath lost his goods by shipwreck, but\nsaved himself on a plank; and he is an ecstatic.'[FN#83] Now\nthis was none other than Uns el Wujoud, [but the Vizier knew\nhim not]; so he left him and went on into the castle. He found\nthere no trace of his daughter and questioned her women, who\nanswered, 'She abode with us but a little while and went away,\nhow and whither we know not.' Whereupon he wept sore and\nrepeated the following verses:\n\nO house, whose birds warbled for joyance whilere And whose\n     sills were resplendent with glory and pride,\nTill the lover came to thee, bemooning himself For his passion,\n     and found thy doors open and wide,\nWould I knew where my soul is, my soul that was late In a\n     house, where its masters no longer abide!\nTherein were all things that are costly and rich And with suits\n     of brocade it was decked, like a bride.\nYea, happy and honoured its doorkeeper were. Would God I knew\n     whither its mistress hath tried!\n\nThen he wept and sighed and bemoaned himself, exclaiming,\n'There is no resource against the ordinance of God neither is\nthere any escape from that which He hath decreed!' Then he went\nup to the roof and finding the strips of Baalbek stuff tied to\nthe battlements and hanging down to the ground, knew that she\nhad descended thence and had fled forth, as one distracted and\nmad with passion. Presently, he turned and seeing there two\nbirds, an owl and a raven, deemed this an ill omen; so he\ngroaned and recited these verses:\n\nUnto the loved ones' stead I came, as hoping, by their sight,\n     To quench the fire that burnt in me of love-longing and\n     woe;\nBut no beloved found I there, nor aught, indeed, I found, Save\n     two ill-omened ones, an owl And eke a corby-crow.\nAnd quoth the tongue o' the case to me, \"Thou hast been\n     tyrannous And hast two longing lovers torn, the one the\n     other fro!\nTaste of the anguish, then, of love what thou hast made them\n     taste And live, 'twixt agony and tears, in sorrow evermo.\"\n\nThen he descended, weeping, and bade the servants go forth and\nsearch the island for their mistress; so they sought for her,\nbut found her not. As for Uns el Wujoud, when he was certified\nthat Rose-in-bud was indeed gone, he gave a great cry and fell\ndown in a swoon, nor came to himself for a long time, whilst\nthe folk deemed that a ravishment from the Merciful One had\ntaken him and that he was absorbed in contemplation of the\nsplendour of the majesty of the Requiter of good and evil.\nThen, despairing of finding Uns el Wujoud and seeing that\nIbrahim was distracted for the loss of his daughter, King\nDirbas's Vizier addressed himself to return to his own country,\nfor all he had not attained the object of his journey, and said\nto Ibrahim? 'I have a mind to take yonder fakir with me; it may\nbe God, for his sake, will incline the King's heart to me, for\nthat he is a holy man; and after, I will send him to Ispahan,\nwhich is near our country.' 'Do &as thou wilt,' answered\nIbrahim.\n\nSo they took leave of one another and departed, each for his\nown country, King Dirbas's Vizier carrying with him Uns el\nWujoud, who was still insensible. They bore him with them on\nmuleback, unknowing if he were carried or not, for three days,\nat the end of which time he came to himself and said, 'Where am\nI?' 'Thou art in company with King Dirbas's Vizier,' answered\nthey and went and told the latter, who sent him rose-water and\nsherbet of sugar, of which they gave him to drink and restored\nhim. Then they fared on till they drew near King Dirbas's\ncapital and the King, being advised of his Vizier's coming,\nwrote to him, saying, 'An Uns el Wujoud be not with thee, come\nnot to me ever.'\n\nWhen the Vizier read the royal mandate, it was grievous to him,\nfor he knew not that Rose-in-bud was with the King nor why he\nhad sent him in quest of Uns el Wujoud, neither knew he that\nthe fakir he had with him was Uns el Wujoud himself; and the\nlatter in like manner knew not whither they were bound nor that\nthe Vizier had been despatched in quest of himself. So, when he\nsaw him thus chagrined, he said to him, 'What ails thee?' And\nhe answered, 'I was sent by the King on an errand, which I\nhave not been able to accomplish. So, when he heard of my\nreturn, he wrote to me? saying, \"Enter not my city, except thou\nhave fulfilled my need.\"' 'And what is the King's need?' asked\nUns el Wujoud. So the Vizier told him the case, and he said,\n'Fear nothing, but go boldly to the King and take me with thee;\nand I will be surety to thee for the coming of Uns el Wujoud.'\nAt this the Vizier rejoiced and said, 'Is this true that thou\nsayest?' 'Yes,' answered he; whereupon the Vizier mounted and\ncarried him to King Dirbas, who said to him, 'Where is Uns el\nWujoud?' 'O King,' answered the young man, 'I know where he\nis.' So the King called him to him and said, 'Where?' 'Near at\nhand, replied Uns d Wujoud. 'Tell me what thou wouldst with\nhim, and I will fetch him to thee.' 'With all my heart,'\nanswered the King; 'but the case calls for privacy.'\n\nSo he bade the folk withdraw and, carrying Uns el Wujoud into\nhis closet, told him the whole story; whereupon quoth the\nyouth, 'Clothe me in rice apparel, and I will eftsoons bring\nUns el Wujoud to thee.' So they brought him a sumptuous dress,\nand he donned it and said, 'I am the Delight of the World[FN#84]\nand the Mortification of the Envious.' So saying, he transfixed\nail hearts with his glances and recited the following verses:\n\nMy loved one's memory cheers me still in this my solitude And\n     doth wanhope from me away, as I in absence brood.\nI have no helper but my tears; yet, when from out mine eyes\n     They flow, they lighten my despair and ease my drearihood.\nSore is my longing; yea, it hath no like and my affair In love\n     and passion's marvellous, beyond all likelihood.\nI lie the night long, wakeiul-eyed,--no sleep is there for\n     me,--And pass, for love, from heaven to hell, according to\n     my mood.\nYea, patience fair some time I had, but have it now no more;\n     And longing and chagrin increase upon me, like a flood.\nIndeed, my body's worn to nought, for severance from her;\n     Yearnings my aspect and my form to change have all\n     subdued.\nMine eyelids ulcerated are with weeping, nor can I Avail to\n     stay the constant tears, wherewith they're still bedewed.\nIndeed, I can no more; my strength, my very vitals fail. How\n     many sorrows have I borne, on sorrows still renewed!\nMy heart and head are grizzled grown, for loss of a princess In\n     beauty, sure, the fairest maid that ever lover wooed.\nIn her despite, our parting was, for no desire hath she Save to\n     be joined with me and feed once more on lovers' food.\nI wonder, will my fate to me union vouchsafe with her I\n     cherish, after absence long and stress of lonelihood,\nAnd shut the book of severance up, that now is open wide, And\n     blot out troubles from my thought with love's supremest\n     good?\nShall my beloved, in my land, my cup-companion be And sorrow\n     and affliction be by pure delight ensued?\n\n'By Allah,' exclaimed the King, 'ye are, indeed, a pair of true\nlovers and in the heaven of beauty two shining stars! Your\nstory is marvellous and your case extraordinary.' Then he told\nhim all that had befallen Rose-in-bud; and Uns el Wujoud said,\n'Where is she, O King of the age?' 'She is with me now,'\nanswered Dirbas and sending for the Cadi and the witnesses,\ndrew up the contract of marriage between her and him. Then he\nloaded Uns el Wujoud with favours and bounties and sent to King\nShamikh, advising him of what had befallen, whereat the latter\nrejoiced with an exceeding joy and wrote back to him, saying,\n'Since the marriage contract hath been drawn up at thy court! it\nbehoves that the wedding and consummation be at mine.' And he\nmade ready camels and horses and men and sent them in quest of\nthe lovers.\n\nWhen the embassy reached King Dirbas, he gave the pair great\nstore of treasure and despatched them to King Shamikh's court\nwith an escort of his own troops. The day of their arrival was\na notable day, never was seen a greater; for the King assembled\nall the singers and players on instruments of music and made\nbanquets and held high festival seven days; and on each day he\ngave largesse to the folk and bestowed on them sumptuous\ndresses of honour. Then Uns el Wujoud went in to Rose-in-bud,\nand they embraced and sat weeping for excess of joy and\ngladness, whilst she recited the following verses:\n\nGladness is come, dispelling grief and putting care aside; We\n     are united now and have our enviers mortified.\nThe fragrant breeze of union blows fresh and sweet for us,\n     Whereby our bodies, vitals, hearts are all revivified.\nThe splendour of fulfilled delight in all its glory shines, And\n     for glad tidings beat the drums about us far and wide.\nThink not we weep for stress Of grief or for affliction; nay,\n     It is for joy our tears flow down and will not be denied.\nHow many terrors have we seen, that now are past away! Yet we\n     each agonizing strait did patiently abide.\nIn one hour of delight have we forgotten all the woes, Whose\n     stresses made us twain, whilom, grey-haired and\n     hollow-eyed.\n\nThen they clipped each other and ceased not from their embrace,\ntill they fell down in a swoon, for the ecstasy of reunion; and\nwhen they came to themselves, Uns d Wujoud recited these\nverses:\n\nAh, how peerlessly sweet are the nights of delight, When the\n     loved one to me keeps the troth she did plight,\nWhen enjoyment enjoyment ensues and the bonds Of estrangement\n     between us are sundered outright,\nAnd fortune is come to us, favouring and fair, After turning\n     away with aversion and spite!\nFair fortune hath set up her standards for us And we drink from\n     her hand a cup pure of affright.\nUnited, our woes each to each we recount And the nights when in\n     torments we watched for the light.\nBut now, O my lady, forgotten have we Our griefs, and God\n     pardon the past its upright!\nHow pleasant, how lovesome, how joyous is life! Enjoyment my\n     passion doth only excite.\n\nThen they gave themselves up anew to the pleasures of the\nnuptial bed and passed seven whole days thus, carousing and\nconversing and reciting verses and telling pleasant tales and\nanecdotes, in the intervals of amorous dalliance; for so\ndrowned were they in the sea of passion, that they knew not\nnight from day and it was to them, for very stress of joy and\ngladness and pleasure and delight, as if the seven days were\nbut one day, and that without a morrow. Nor did they know the\nseventh day, but by the coming of the singers and players on\ninstruments of music;[FN#85] whereat Rose-in-bud was beyond\nmeasure wondered and improvised the following verses:\n\nDespite the enviers' rage and malice of the spy, I've won of\n     him I love my wish to satisfy;\nYea, we have crowned our loves with many a close embrace, On\n     cushions of brocade and silken stuffs piled high\nUpon a couch full soft, of perfumed leather made And stuffed\n     with down of birds of rarest kind that fly.\nThanks to the honeyed dews of my beloved's lips, Illustrious\n     past compare, no need of wine have I.\nYea, for the sweet excess of our fulfilled delight, The present\n     from the past we know, nor far from nigh.\nA miracle indeed! Seven nights o'er us have passed, Without our\n     taking note of how they flitted by;\nTill, on the seventh day, they wished us joy and said, \"Your\n     union God prolong to all eternity!\"\n\nWhen she had finished, Uns el Wujoud kissed her, more than a\nhundred times, and recited the following verses:\n\nO day of pure delight and mutual happiness! The loved one came\n     and set me free from loneliness.\nShe blest me with the sweets of all her glorious charms, What\n     while her converse filled my spirit with liesse.\nShe plied me with the wine of amorous delight, Till all my\n     senses failed, for very drunkenness.\nYea, merry each with each we made, together lay, Then fell to\n     wine and did, in song, our cheer express;\nNor knew we, of the days that fleeted over us, The present from\n     the past, for very joy's excess.\nFair fall all those that love of ease and twinned delight, And\n     joy to them fulfil its promise none the less!\nNe'er may they know the taste of parting's bitter cup! God\n     succour them as me He succoured in my stress!\n\nThen they went forth and distributed to the folk alms and\nlargesse of money and raiment and so forth; after which\nRose-in-bud bade empty the bath for her and turning to Uns el\nWujoud, said to him' 'O solace of my eyes, I have a mind to see\nthee in the bath; and we will be alone together therein.' He\ngladly consented to this, and she bade perfume the bath for\nthem with all manner of scented woods and essences and light\nthe candles. Then, of the excess of her contentment, she\nrecited the following Verses:\n\nO thou aforetime of my heart that mad'st prize (And the present\n     for us on the past still relies),\nThou, the only companion I crave, for to me None other the want\n     of thy presence supplies,\nTo the bath,--that in midst of hell-fire we may see Even\n     Paradise shining,--come, light of mine eyes!\nWe will scent it with ambergris, aloes and musk, Till the\n     fragrance in clouds from all quarters arise.\nYea, Fortune we'll pardon her sins and give thanks, For His\n     grace, to the Merciful One, the All-Wise;\nAnd I'll say, when I see thee therein, \"O my love, All delights\n     be thy lot in the earth and the skies!\"\n\nSo they went to the bath and took their pleasure there in;\nafter which they returned to their palace and there abode in\nthe fulness of delight, till there came to them the Destroyer\nof Delights and the Sunderer of Companies; and glory be to Him\nwho changeth not neither ceaseth and in whom all things have\ntheir term!\n\n\n\n\n\n            ABOU NUWAS WITH THE THREE BOYS AND THE\n                   KHALIF HAROUN ER RESHID.\n\n\n\nAbou Nuwas one day shut himself up and making ready a richly-\nfurnished saloon, set out therein a banquet of meats of all\nkinds and colours that lips and tongue can desire. Then he went\nforth, to seek a minion who should befit the entertainment,\nsaying, 'O my God and my Master and my Lord, I beseech Thee to\nsend me one worthy of this banquet and apt to carouse with me\nthis day!' Hardly had he made an end of speaking, when he\nespied three handsome beardless youths, as they were of the\nchildren of Paradise, differing in complexion but equal in\nperfection of beauty; and all hearts yearned with desire to the\ngraceful bending of their shapes, even to what saith the poet:\n\nTwo beardless youths I happened on one day And said \"I love\n     you.\" \"Hast thou pelf?\" asked they.\n\"Yes,\" answered I, \"and liberality.\" \"Then is the matter easy,\"\n     did they say.\n\nNow Abou Nuwas was on this wise given and loved to sport and\nmake merry with the fair and cull the rose from every fresh-\nflowered cheek, even as saith the poet:\n\nFull many a graybeard is amorous and loves Fair faces and music\n     and dalliance and glee:\nFrom Mosul, the country of pureness,[FN#86] he comes, Yet\n     nought but Aleppo[FN#87] remembereth he.\n\nSo he accosted them with the salutation, and they returned his\ngreeting with all honour and civility and would have gone their\nway; but he stayed them, repeating these verses:\n\nTo none but me your footsteps steer; For I have store of all\n     good cheer;\nWine that the heart of convent monk Would glad, so bright it is\n     and clear;\nAnd flesh of sheep, to boot, have I And birds of land and sea\n     and mere.\nEat ye of these and drink old wine, That doth away chagrin and\n     fear.\n\nThe boys were beguiled by his verses and consented to his\nwishes, saying, 'We hear and obey.' So he carried them to his\nlodging, where they found all ready that he had set forth in\nhis verses. They sat down and ate and drank and made merry\nawhile, after which they appealed to Abou Nuwas to decide which\nwas the handsomest and most shapely of them. So he pointed to\none of them, after having kissed him twice, and recited the\nfollowing verses:\n\nWith my life I will ransom the mole, on the cheek of the\n     loveling that is; For how should I ransom it else with\n     treasure or aught but my soul?\nAnd blessed for ever be He who fashioned his cheek without hair\n     And made, of His power and His might, all beauty to dwell\n     in yon mole!\n\nThen he pointed to another and kissing his lips, repeated these\nverses:\n\nThere's a loveling hath a mole upon his cheek, As 'twere musk\n     on virgin camphor, so to speak.\nMy eyes marvel when they see it. Quoth the mole, \"Heaven's\n     blessing on the Prophet look ye seek!\"[FN#88]\n\nThen he pointed to the third and repeated the following verses,\nafter kissing him half a score times:\n\nAll in a silver cup he melted gold full fine, A youth whose\n     hands were dyed in ruby-coloured wine,\nAnd with the skinkers went and handed round one cup Of wine,\n     whilst other two were proffered by his eyne.\nFairer than all the Turks, an antelope, whose waist Together\n     would attract the mountains of Hunain.[FN#89]\nAn if I were content with crooked[FN#90] womankind, Betwixt\n     attractions twain would be this heart of mine.\nOne love towards Diyarbeker[FN#91] drawing it, and one That\n     draws it, otherguise, to the land of Jamiain.[FN#92]\n\nNow each of the youths had drunk two cups, and when it came to\nAbou Nuwas's turn, he took the goblet and repeated these\nverses:\n\nDrink not of wine except it be at the hands of a loveling slim,\n     Who in brightness of soul resembles it and it resembles\n     him.\nThe drinker of wine, in very truth, hath no delight thereof,\n     Except the cheek of the fair be pure, who doth the goblet\n     brim.\n\nThen he drank off his cup, and when it came round to Him again,\njoyance got the mastery of him and he repeated The following\nverses:\n\nMake thou thy boon-fellow of cups, brimmed up as full as this,\n     And eke to follow cup with cup, I rede thee, do not miss,\nPoured by a damask-lipped one's hand, a wonder-lovely fair,\n     Whose mouth's sweet water, after sleep, as musk on apple\n     is.\nDrink not of wine, except it be from the hand of a gazelle,\n     Whose cheek is goodlier than itself and sweeter still his\n     kiss.\n\nPresently, the wine crept to his head, drunkenness mastered him\nand he knew not hand from head, so that he swayed about for\nmirth, inclining anon to this one, to kiss him, and anon to\nanother. Then he fell to glorying in himself and his case and\nthe goodliness of his entertainment and his companions, and\nrecited these verses:\n\nNone knoweth perfection of pleasure but he Who drinketh, with\n     fair ones to hearten him still.\nThis sings to him, t'other, when cheer him would be, Revives\n     him forthright with the cups he doth fill;\nAnd whenever from one he hath need of a kiss, Long draughts\n     from his lips, at his case, he doth swill.\nGod bless them! Right sweet has my day with them been, And\n     wonder delightsome and void of all ill!\nWe drank of the wine cup, both mingled and pure, And agreed\n     whoso slept, we should touzle at will.\n\nAt this moment, there came a knocking at the door; so they bade\nhim who knocked enter, and behold, it was the Khalif Haroun er\nReshid. When they saw him, they all rose to him and kissed the\nground before him; and the fumes of the wine forsook Abou\nNuwas's head for awe of the Khalif, who said to him, 'Hallo,\nAbou Nuwas!' 'At thy service, O Commander of the Faithful,'\nanswered he, 'may God preserve thee!' 'What state is this I\nfind thee in?' asked the Khalif; and the poet replied, 'O\nCommander of the Faithful, methinks my state dispenses with\nquestion.' Quoth the Khalif, 'O Abou Nuwas, I have sought\ndirection of God the Most High and appoint thee Cadi of\nwhoremasters.' 'Dost thou indeed invest me with that office, O\nCommander of the Faithful?' asked Abou Nuwas. 'I do,' replied\nthe Khalif. 'Then, O Commander of the Faithful,' rejoined Abou\nNuwas, 'hast thou any suit to prefer to me?' At this the Khalif\nwas wroth and turned away and left them, full of rage, and\npassed the night, sore angered against Abou Nuwas, whilst the\nlatter spent the merriest and most easeful of nights, till the\nday dawned and the morning-star appeared and shone, when he\nbroke up the sitting and dismissing the boys, donned his court-\ndress and set out for the Khalif's palace.\n\nNow it was the latter's custom, when the Divan broke up, to\nwithdraw to his sitting-chamber and summon thither his poets\nand minions and musicians, each having his own place, which he\nmight not overpass. So, that day, he retired to his saloon, and\nthe minions came and seated themselves, each in his place.\nPresently, in came Abou Nuwas and was about to take his usual\nseat, when the Khalif cried out to Mesrour the headsman and\nbade him strip the poet of his clothes and clap an ass's pannel\non his back. Moreover, he charged him bind a halter about his\nhead and a crupper under his rear and carry him round to all\nthe lodgings of the slave-girls and the chambers of the harem,\nthat the women might make mock of him; then cut off his head\nand bring it to him. 'I hear and obey,' replied Mesrour and\naccoutring Abou Nuwas, as the Khalif had bidden him, carried\nhim round to all the lodgings of the harem, in number as the\ndays of the year; but he made all the girls laugh with his\nbuffooneries and each gave him something, so that he returned\nwith a pocketful of money.\n\nJust then, Jaafer the Barmecide, who had been absent on an\nimportant business for the Khalif, entered and seeing the poet\nin this plight, said to him, 'Hallo, Abou Nuwas!' 'At thy\nservice, O our lord,' answered he. 'What offence hast thou\ncommitted,' asked Jaafer, 'to bring this punishment on thee?'\n'None whatever,' answered the other, 'except that I made our\nlord the Khalif a present of the best of my verses, and he\npresented me, in return, with the best of his clothes.' When\nthe Khalif heard this, he laughed, from a heart full of wrath,\nand [not only] pardoned Abou Nuwas, but gave him a myriad of\nmoney.\n\n\n\n\n\n              ABDALLAH BEN MAAMER WITH THE MAN OF\n                  BASSORA AND HIS SLAVE-GIRL.\n\n\n\nA certain man of Bassora once bought a slave-girl and reared\nand educated her excellent well. Moreover, he loved her very\ndearly and spent all his substance in pleasuring and making\nmerry with her, till he had nothing left and want was very sore\nupon him. So she said to him, 'O my master, sell me; for thou\nneedest my price and it makes my heart ache to see the sorry\nplight to which want hath brought thee. It thou sell me and\nmake use of my price, it will be better for thee than keeping\nme, and haply God the Most High will prosper thee and mend thy\nfortune.' He agreed to this, of the straitness of his case, and\ncarried her to the bazaar, where the broker offered her for\nsale to the Governor of Bassora, by name Abballah ben Maamer et\nTeimi, and she pleased him. So he bought her, for five hundred\ndinars, of her master, who took the money and was about to go\naway, when the girl burst into tears and repeated the following\nverses:\n\nMay Allah prosper unto thee the money thou hast got! For me,\n     nought's left me but lament and memory and woe.\nI say to my afflicted soul, \"Mourn little or mourn much; It\n     skills not, for the loved one's gone and will return no\n     mo.\"\n\nWhen he heard this, he sighed heavily and replied thus:\n\nThough there be no recourse for thee in this thy case and thou\n     Find nought but death to solace thee, excuse me yet and\n     know,\nEvening and morn the thought of thee will company with me,\n     Wherewith a heart I will console, that's all fulfilled of\n     woe.\nPeace be on thee! Henceforth for us no meeting shall there be\n     Nor any union more, except Ben Maamer will it so.\n\nWhen Abdallah heard these verses and saw their affliction, he\nexclaimed, 'By Allah, I will have no hand in separating you;\nfor it is manifest to me that ye indeed love one another. So\ntake the money and the damsel, O man, and may God bless thee in\nthem! For parting is grievous to true lovers.' So they kissed\nhis hand and going away, ceased not to dwell together, till\ndeath parted them; and glory be to Him whom death overtaketh\nnot!\n\n\n\n\n\n                THE LOVERS OF THE BENOU UDHREH.\n\n\n\nThere was once, among the Benou Udhreh, a handsome and\naccomplished man, who was never a day out of love, and it\nchanced that he became enamoured of a beautiful woman of his\nown tribe and sent her many messages; but she ceased not to use\nhim with cruelty and disdain, till, for stress of passion and\nlonging and distraction, he fell exceeding sick and took to his\nbed and forswore sleep. His sickness grew on him and his\nanguish redoubled upon him, till he was all but dead; and his\ncase became known and his passion noised abroad among the folk.\nHis family and hers were instant with her to visit him, but she\nrefused, till he was at the point of death, when, being told of\nthis, she relented towards him and vouchsafed him a visit. When\nhe saw her, his eyes ran over with tears and he repeated the\nfollowing verses, from a broken heart:\n\nIf, by thy life, there pass thee by my funeral train, to wit, A\n     bier borne on the necks of four, wilt grudge to follow it?\nWilt thou not follow in its track, that so thou mayst salute\n     The sepulchre of one who's dead, committed to the pit?\n\nWhen she heard this, she wept sore and said to him, 'By Allah,\nI thought not that passion had come to such a pass with thee,\nas to cast thee into the arms of death! Had I known this, I had\nbeen favourable to thee, and thou shouldst have enjoyed thy\ndesire.' At this, his tears streamed down, like the cloud-\nshowers, and he repeated the following verse:\n\nShe draweth near to me, when death hath come betwixt us two And\n     proffereth union, when it no profit can me do.\n\nThen he gave one sigh and died, and she fell on him, kissing\nhim and weeping, till she swooned away. When she came to\nherself she charged her people bury her in his grave and\nrecited the following verses, with streaming eyes:\n\nWe lived upon the earth a life of comfort and delight: Country\n     and tribe and dwelling-place alike of us were proud;\nBut Fortune and the shifts of time did rend our loves apart,\n     And now the grave uniteth us within a single shroud.\n\nThen she fell again to weeping and ceased not from tears and\nlament, till she swooned away. She lay three days, senseless;\nthen died and was buried in his grave. This is one of the\nstrange chances of love.\n\n\n\n\n\n               THE VIZIER OF YEMEN AND HIS YOUNG\n                            BROTHER\n\n\n\nBedreddin, Vizier of Yemen, had a young brother of singular\nbeauty and kept strait watch over him. So he applied himself to\nseek a governor for him and coming upon an elder of dignified\nand reverend aspect, chaste and pious, lodged him in a house\nnext his own, whence he used to come daily to the Vizier's\ndwelling, to teach the latter's brother. After awhile, the old\nman's heart was taken with love for his pupil and longing grew\nupon him and his entrails were troubled, till, one day, he made\nmoan of his case to the boy, who said, 'What can I do, seeing\nthat I may not leave my brother day or night? Thou seest how\ncareful he is over me.' Quoth the governor, 'My lodging adjoins\nthine; so, when thy brother sleeps, do thou rise and entering\nthe wardrobe, feign thyself asleep. Then come to the parapet of\nthe roof and I will receive thee on the other side of the wall;\nso shalt thou sit with me awhile and return without thy\nbrother's knowledge.' 'I hear and obey,' answered the boy. So,\nwhen awhile of the night was past, he entered the closet and\nwaited till his brother lay down on his bed and was drowned in\nsleep, when he rose and going to the parapet of the roof, found\nthe governor awaiting him, who gave him his hand and carried\nhim to the sitting-chamber, where he had made ready various\ndainties for his entertainment, and they sat down to carouse.\n\nNow it was the night of the full moon, and as they sat, passing\nthe wine-cup to one another, her rays shone upon them, and the\ngovernor fell to singing. But, whilst they were thus in mirth\nand joyance and good cheer, such as confounds the wit and the\nsight and defies description, the Vizier awoke and missing his\nbrother, arose in affright and found the door open. So he went\nup to the roof and hearing a noise of talk, peeped over the\nparapet and saw a light shining in the governor's lodging. He\nlooked in and espied his brother and his governor sitting\ncarousing: but the latter became aware of him and sang the\nfollowing verses, cup in hand, to a lively measure:\n\nHe gave me wine to drink, of his mouth's nectar rare, Toasting\n     with down of cheeks and what adjoineth there;\nThen passed with me the night, embracing, cheek to cheek, A\n     loveling midst mankind unpeered and past compare.\nThe full moon gazed on us all night; pray then to her, So to\n     his brother she to tell of us forbear.\n\nNow the Vizier was a merry man; so, when he heard this, he\nsaid, 'By Allah, I will not betray you!' And he went away and\nleft them to their diversion.\n\n\n\n\n\n           THE LOVES OF THE BOY AND GIRL AT SCHOOL.\n\n\n\nA boy and a girl once learnt together in a school, and the boy\nfell passionately in love with the girl. So, one day, when the\nother boys were heedless, he took her tablet[FN#93] and wrote\non it the following verses:\n\nTell me, what sayst thou unto him, whom sickness for thy love\n     Hath worn and wasted, till he's grown distraught and\n     stupefied?\nHim who of passion maketh moan; for love and longing pain, That\n     which is in his heart, indeed, no longer can he hide.\n\nWhen the girl took her tablet, she read the verses and wept for\npity of him; then wrote thereunder these others:\n\nAn if we see one languishing for very love of us, Our favours,\n     surely, unto him shall nowise be denied.\nYea, and of us he shall obtain that which he doth desire Of\n     love-delight, whate'er to us in consequence betide.\n\nNow it chanced that the teacher came in on them And taking the\ntablet, unnoticed, read what was written thereon. So he was\nmoved to pity of their case and wrote on the tablet the\nfollowing verses, in reply to those of the girl:\n\nFavour thy lover, for he's grown distracted for desire, And\n     reck thou not of punishment nor fear lest any chide.\nAs for the master, have no dread of his authority, For he with\n     passion an its pains aforetime hath been tried.\n\nPresently, the girl's master entered the school and finding the\ntablet, read the above verses and wrote under them the following:\n\nMay Allah never separate your loves, whilst time abide, And may\n     your slanderer be put to shame and mortified!\nBut, for the master of the school, by Allah, all my life, A\n     busier go-between than he I never yet espied.\n\nThen he sent for the Cadi and the witnesses and married them on\nthe spot. Moreover, he made them a marriage-feast and entreated\nthem with exceeding munificence; and they abode together in joy\nand contentment, till there came to them the Destroyer of\nDelights and the Sunderer of Companies.\n\n\n\n\n\n              EL MUTELEMMIS AND HIS WIFE UMEIMEH.\n\n\n\nIt is related that El Mutelemmis[FN#94] once fled from En Numan\nben Mundhir[FN#95] and was absent so long that the folk deemed\nhim dead. Now he had a handsome wife, Umeimeh by name, and her\nfamily pressed her to marry again; but she refused, for that\nshe loved her husband El Mutelemmis very dearly. However, they\nwere instant with her, because of the multitude of her suitors,\nand importuned her till she at last reluctantly consented and\nthey married her to a man of her own tribe.\n\nOn the night of the wedding, El Mutelemmis came back and\nhearing in the camp a noise of pipes and tabrets and seeing\nsigns of festival, asked some of the children what was toward,\nto which they replied, 'They have married Umeimeh, widow of El\nMutelemmis, to such an one, and he goes in to her this night.'\nWhen he heard this, he made shift to enter the house with the\nwomen and saw there the bride seated on her throne. By and by,\nthe bridegroom came up to her, whereupon she sighed heavily and\nweeping, recited the following verses:\n\nAh would, (but many are the shifts of good and evil fate), I\n     knew in what far land thou art, O Mutelemmis mine!\n\nNow El Mutelemmis was a renowned poet: so he answered her with\nthe following verse:\n\nRight near at hand, Umeimeh! Know, whene'er the caravan Halted,\n     I never ceased for thee with longing heart to pine.\n\nWhen the bridegroom heard this, he guessed how the case stood\nand went forth from among them in haste, repeating the following\nverse:\n\nI was in luck, but now I'm fall'n into the contrary. A\n     hospitable house and room your reknit loves enshrine!\n\nSo El Mutelemmis took his wife again and abode with her in all\ndelight and solace of life, till death parted them. And glory\nbe to Him at whose command the earth and the heavens shall\narise!\n\n\n\n\n\n              THE KHALIF HAROUN ER RESHID AND THE\n                PRINCESS ZUBEIDEH IN THE BATH.\n\n\n\nThe Khalif Haroun er Reshid loved the Princess Zubeideh with an\nexceeding love and laid out for her a pleasaunce, in which he\nmade a great pool and led thither water from all sides.\nMoreover, he set thereabout a screen of trees, which so grew\nand interlaced over the pool, that one could go in and wash,\nwithout being seen of any, for the thickness of the leafage. It\nchanced, one day, that Zubeideh entered the garden and coming\nto the basin, gazed upon its goodliness, and the limpidity of\nthe water and the interlacing of the trees over it pleased her.\nNow it was a day of exceeding heat; so she put off her clothes\nand entering the pool, which was not deep enough to cover her,\nfell to pouring the water over herself from an ewer of silver.\n\n\nThe Khalif heard she was in the pool; so he left his palace and\ncame down to spy upon her, through the screen of the leaves. He\nstood behind the trees and saw her naked, with all her secret\ncharms displayed. Presently, she became aware of him and\nturning, saw him behind the trees and was ashamed that he\nshould see her naked. So she laid her hands on her kaze, but it\nescaped from between them, by reason of its much greatness and\nplumpness; and the Khalif turned and went away, wondering and\nreciting the following verse:\n\nI looked on her whom I adore And longing rose in me full sore.\n\nBut he knew not what to say next; so he sent for Abou Nuwas and\nbade him make a piece of verse commencing with the above line. 'I\nhear and obey,' replied the poet and in a twinkling extemporized\nthe following lines:\n\nI looked on her whom I adore, And longing rose in me full sore\nFor a gazelle that ravished me, By double lote-trees shaded\n     o'er.\nThe water on her dainty part With silver ewer did she pour\nAnd would have hidden it, seeing me, But all too small her\n     hands therefor.\nWould I were on it, wel-a-way, An hour or liefer two or more!\n\nThe Khalif smiled and made him a handsome present, and he went\naway rejoicing.\n\n\n\n\n\n             HAROUN ER RESHID AND THE THREE POETS.\n\n\n\nThe Khalif Haroun er Reshid was exceeding restless one night;\nso he rose and walked about his palace, till he happened on a\ndamsel overcome with wine. Now he was greatly enamoured of this\ndamsel; so he toyed with her and pulled her to him, whereupon\nher girdle fell down and her trousers were unloosed and he\nbesought her of amorous dalliance. But she said to him, 'O\nCommander of the Faithful, wait till to-morrow night, for I am\nunprepared for thee, knowing not of thy coming.' So he left her\nand went away.\n\nOn the morrow, he sent a page to her to announce his visit to\nher apartment; but she sent back to him, saying, 'The day\nobliterates the promise of the night.' So he said to his\nminions, 'Make me somewhat of verse, introducing these words,\n\"The day obliterates the promise of the night.\"' 'We hear and\nobey,' answered they; and Er Recashi[FN#96] came forward and\nrecited the following:\n\nBy Allah, an thou feltst my longing and my pain, Repose had\n     turned away from thee and taken flight.\nA maid hath made me love-distraught, nor visiting Nor being\n     visited, a sad and love-lorn wight.\nShe promised me her grace, then turned away and said, \"The day\n     obliterates the promise of the night.\"\n\nThen Abou Musab came forward and recited these verses:\n\nWhen wilt thou put away this dotage from thy spright? Thy heart\n     is dazed and rest to thee forbidden quite.\nIs't not enough for thee to have a weeping eye And vitals still\n     on fire for memory and despite?\nFor self-conceit, indeed, he laugheth, when he saith, \"The day\n     obliterates the promise of the night.\"\n\nLast came Abou Nuwas and recited the following:\n\nLove was prolonged and far was union out of sight, Nor skilled\n     it aught to feign aversion and despite.\nOne day, she came into the palace, drunk with wine, But even\n     her drunkenness with pudour was bedight.\nHer upper garments dropped and left her shoulders bare And\n     loosened trousers showed the dwelling of delight;\nYea, and the breeze shook hips, full heavy, and a shape, As\n     'twere a branch, whereon pomegranates twain unite.\n\"Give me a tryst,\" quoth I; and she replied, \"The place Of\n     visiting will be to-morrow clean and right.\"\nNext day, I came and said, \"Thy promise;\" but quoth she, \"The\n     day obliterates the promise of the night.\"\n\nThe Khalif bestowed a myriad each on Er Recashi and Abou Musab,\nbut bade strike off Abou Nuwas's head, saying, 'Thou west with\nus yesternight in the palace.' 'By Allah,' answered the poet,\n'I slept not but in my own house! I was directed to what I said\nby thine own words as to the subject of the poem; and indeed\nquoth God the Most High (and He is the truest of all speakers),\n\"As for poets (devils ensue them!) dost thou not see how they\nrun wild in each valley and say that they do not?\"'[FN#97] So\nthe Khalif forgave him and bestowed on him two myriads of gold.\n\n\n\n\n\n                MUSAB BEN EZ ZUBEIR AND AAISHEH\n                      DAUGHTER OF TELHEH.\n\n\n\nIt is told of Musab ben ez Zubeir[FN#98] that he met Izzeh, who\nwas one of the shrewdest of women, in Medina and said to her,\n'I have a mind to marry Aaisheh,[FN#99] daughter of Telheh, and\nI would have thee go to her and spy out for me how she is\nmade.' So she went and returning to Musab, said, 'I have seen\nher, and her face is more beautiful than health; she hath large\nand well-opened eyes, an aquiline nose and smooth, oval cheeks\nand a mouth like a cleft pomegranate, a neck like an ewer of\nsilver and a bosom with two breasts like twin pomegranates, a\nslim waist and a slender belly, with a navel therein as it were\na casket of ivory, and backside like a hummock of sand.\nMoreover, she hath plump thighs and legs like columns of\nalabaster; but I saw her feet to be large, and thou wilt fall\nshort with her in time of amorous dalliance.' Upon this report,\nhe married her and Izzeh invited Aaisheh and the women of the\ntribe of Kureish to her house, when Aaisheh sang the following,\nwith Musab standing by:\n\nThe mouths of girls, with their odoriferous, Sweet breath and\n     their witching smiles, are sweet to buss;\nYet ne'er have I tasted them, but in thought of him; And by\n     thought, indeed, the Ruler rules over us.\n\nThe night of his going in to her, he departed not from her,\ntill after seven courses; and on the morrow, a freed-woman of\nhis met him and said to him, 'May I be thy ransom! Thou art\nperfect, even in this.'\n\nQuoth a certain woman, 'I was with Aaisheh, when her husband\ncame in to her, and she lusted to him; so he fell upon her and\nshe puffed and snorted and made use of all manner of rare\nmotions and strange inventions, and I the while within hearing.\nSo when he came out from her, I said to her, \"How canst thou,\nwith thy rank and nobility and condition, do thus, and I in thy\nhouse?\" Quoth she, \"A woman should bring her husband all of\nwhich she is mistress, by way of excitations and rare motions.\nWhat mislikest thou of this?\" And I answered, \"I would have\nthis anights.\" \"Thus is it by day,\" rejoined she, \"and by night\nI do more than this; for, when he sees me, desire stirs in him\nand he falls on heat; so he puts out his hand to me and I obey\nhim, and it is as thou seest.\"'\n\n\n\n\n\n           ABOUL ASWED AND HIS SQUINTING SLAVE-GIRL.\n\n\n\nAboul Aswed bought a native-born slave-girl, who was squint-\neyed, and she pleased him; but his people decried her to him;\nwhereat he wondered and spreading out his hands, recited the\nfollowing verses:\n\nThey run her down to me, and yet no fault in her find I, Except\n     perhaps it be a speck she hath in either eye.\nTo compensate this fault, if fault it be, o' the upper parts\n     She's slim and heavy of the parts beneath the waist that\n     lie.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n           HAROUN ER RESHID AND THE TWO SLAVE-GIRLS.\n\n\n\nThe Khalif Haroun er Reshid lay one night between two slave-girls,\none from Medina and the other from Cufa, and the latter rubbed his\nhands, whilst the former rubbed his feet and made his yard to\nstand up. Quoth the Cufan girl, 'I see thou wouldst keep the whole\nof the stock-in-trade to thyself; give me my share of it.' And the\nother answered, 'I have been told by Malik, on the authority of\nHisham ibn Orweh,[FN#100] who had it of his [grand]father,[FN#101]\nthat the Prophet said, \"Whoso bringeth the dead to life, it is\nhis.\"' But the Cufan took her unawares and pushing her away, took\nit all in her own hand and said, 'El Aamesh[FN#102] tells us, on\nthe authority of Kheithemeh,[FN#103] who had it of Abdallah ben\nMesoud,[FN#104] that the Prophet said, \"Game belongeth to him who\ntaketh it, not to him who raiseth it.\"'\n\n\n\n\n\n           THE KHALIF HAROUN ER RESHID AND THE THREE\n                         SLAVE-GIRLS.\n\n\n\nThe Khalif Haroun er Reshid lay once with three slave-girls, a\nMeccan, a Medinan and an Irakite. The Medina girl put her hand\nto his yard and handled it, whereupon it rose and the Meccan\nsprang up and drew it to herself. Quoth the other, 'What is\nthis unjust aggression? I have heard of Malik,[FN#105] on the\nauthority of Ez Zuhri,[FN#106] who had it of Abdallah ibn\nSalim,[FN#107] on the report of Said ben Zeid,[FN#108] that the\nApostle (whom God bless and preserve) said, \"Whoso revivifies a\ndead land, it is his.\"' And the Meccan answered, 'Sufyan[FN#109]\ntells us, on the authority of Abou Zenad,[FN#110] who had it of\nEl Aarej,[FN#111] on the report of Abou Hureireh,[FN#112] that\nthe Apostle of God said, \"The game is his who catches it, not\nhis who starts it.\"' But the Irak girl pushed them both away and\ntaking it to herself, said, 'This is mine, till your contention\nbe decided.'\n\n\n\n\n\n                   THE MILLER AND HIS WIFE.\n\n\n\n\nThere was a miller, who had an ass to turn his mill; and he was\nmarried to a wicked wife, whom he loved; but she hated him and\nloved a neighbour of hers, who liked her not and held aloof\nfrom her. One night, the miller saw, in his sleep, one who said\nto him, 'Dig in such a spot of the ass's circuit in the mill,\nand thou shalt find a treasure.' When he awoke, he told his\nwife the dream and charged her keep it secret; but she told her\nneighbour, thinking to win his favour, and he appointed with\nher to come to her by night. So he came and they dug in the\nmill and found the treasure and took it forth. Then said he to\nher, 'How shall we do with this?' 'We will share it equally\nbetween us,' answered she; 'and do thou leave thy wife and I\nwill cast about to rid me of my husband. Then shalt thou marry\nme, and when we are united, we will add the two halves of the\ntreasure, one to the other, and it will be [all] in our hands.'\nQuoth he, 'I fear lest Satan seduce thee and thou take some man\nother than myself; for gold in the house is like the sun in the\nworld. Meseems, therefore, it were better that the money be all\nin my hands, so thou mayst study to win free of thy husband and\ncome to me.' 'I fear the like of thee,' rejoined she, 'and I\nwill not yield up my part to thee; for it was I directed thee\nto it.' When he heard this, covetise prompted him to kill her;\nso he killed her and threw her body into the empty hole; but\nthe day overtook him and hindered him from covering it up; so\nhe took the treasure and went away.\n\nPresently, the miller awoke and missing his wife, went into the\nmill, where he fastened the ass to the beam and shouted to it.\nIt went on a little, then stopped; whereupon he beat it\ngrievously; but the more he beat it, the more it drew back; for\nit was affrighted at the dead woman and could not go on. So he\ntook out a knife and goaded it again and again, but still it\nwould not budge. Then he was wroth with it, knowing not the\ncause of its obstinacy, and drove the knife into its flanks,\nand it fell down dead. When the sun rose, he saw his wife lying\ndead, in the place of the treasure, and great was his rage and\nsore his chagrin for the loss of the treasure and the death of\nhis wife and his ass. All this came of his letting his wife\ninto his secret and not keeping it to himself.\n\n\n\n\n\n                THE SIMPLETON AND THE SHARPER.\n\n\n\nA certain simple fellow was once going along, haling his ass\nafter him by the halter, when a couple of sharpers saw him and\none said to his fellow, 'I will take that ass from yonder man.'\n'How wilt thou do that?' asked the other. 'Follow me and I will\nshow thee,' replied the first. So he went up to the ass and\nloosing it from the halter, gave the beast to his fellow; then\nclapped the halter on his own head and followed the simpleton,\ntill he knew that the other had got clean off with the ass,\nwhen he stood still. The man pulled at the halter, but the\nthief stirred not; so he turned and seeing the halter on a\nman's neck, said to him, 'Who art thou?' Quoth the sharper, 'I\nam thine ass and my story is a strange one. Know that I have a\npious old mother and came in to her one day, drunk; and she\nsaid to me, \"O my son, repent to God the Most High of these thy\ntransgressions.\" But I took the cudgel and beat her, whereupon\nshe cursed me and God the Most High changed me into an ass and\ncaused me fall into thy hands, where I have remained till now.\nHowever, to-day, my mother called me to mind and her heart\nrelented towards me; so she prayed for me, and God restored me\nto my former shape of a man.' 'There is no power and no virtue\nbut in God the Most High, the Supreme!' cried the simpleton. 'O\nmy brother, I conjure thee by Allah, acquit me of what I have\ndone with thee, in the way of riding and so forth.'\n\nThen he let the sharper go and returned home, drunken with\nchagrin and concern. His wife asked him, 'What ails thee and\nwhere is the ass?' And he answered, 'Thou knowest not what was\nthis ass; but I will tell thee.' So he told her the story, and\nshe exclaimed, 'Woe worth us for God the Most High! How could\nwe have used a man as a beast of burden, all this while?' And\nshe gave alms and asked pardon of God. Then the man abode\nawhile at home, idle, till she said to him, 'How long wilt thou\nsit at home, idle? Go to the market and buy us an ass and do\nthy business with it.' Accordingly, he went to the market and\nstopping by the ass-stand, saw his own ass for sale. So he went\nup to it and clapping his mouth to its ear, said to it, 'Out on\nthee, thou good-for-nought! Doubtless thou hast been getting\ndrunk again and beating thy mother! But, by Allah, I will never\nbuy thee more!' And he left it and went away.\n\n\n\n\n\n              THE IMAM ABOU YOUSUF WITH HAROUN ER\n                     RESHID AND ZUBEIDEH.\n\n\n\nThe Khalif Haroun er Reshid went up one noon-tide to his couch,\nto lie down, and mounting, found thereon fresh semen; whereat\nhe was startled and sore perturbed and troubled. So he called\nthe princess Zubeideh and said to her, 'What is that spilt on\nthe bed?' She looked at it and replied, 'O Commander of the\nFaithful, it is semen.' 'Tell me truly what this means,' said he;\n'or I will lay violent hands on thee forthright.' 'O Commander of\nthe Faithful,' answered she, 'indeed, I know not how it came\nthere and I am guiltless of that whereof thou suspectest me.'\nSo he sent for the Imam Abou Yousuf and told him the case. The\nImam raised his eyes to the roof and seeing a crack therein,\nsaid to the Khalif, 'O Commander of the Faithful, the bat hath\nsemen like that of a man, and this is bats' semen.' Then he\ncalled for a lance and thrust it into the crack, whereupon down\nfell the bat. In this manner the Khalif's suspicions were\ndispelled and Zubeideh's innocence was made manifest; whereat\nshe gave vent to her joy and promised Abou Yousuf a liberal\nreward.\n\nNow there were with her magnificent fruits, out of their\nseason, and she knew of others in the garden; so she said to\nAbou Yousuf, 'O Imam of the Faith, which wouldst thou rather of\nthe two kinds of fruits, those that are here or those that are\nnot here?' 'Our code forbids us to pronounce judgment on the\nabsent,' answered he. 'When they are present, we will give\njudgment.' So she caused bring the two kinds of fruits before\nhim, and he ate of both. Quoth she, 'What is the difference\nbetween them?' And he answered, 'As often as I think to praise\none kind, the other puts in its claim.' The Khalif laughed at\nhis answer and made him a present. Zubeideh also gave him what\nshe had promised him, and he went away, rejoicing. See, then,\nthe blessed qualities of this Imam and how at his hands were\nmade manifest the truth and the innocence of the lady Zubeideh.\n\n\n\n\n\n             THE KHALIF EL HAKIM AND THE MERCHANT.\n\n\n\nThe Khalif El Hakim bi Amrillah was riding out in state one day,\nwhen he came to a garden, in which he saw a man, surrounded by\nslaves and servants. He asked him for a draught of water, and\nthe man gave him to drink, saying, 'Peradventure, the Commander\nof the Faithful will honour me by alighting in this my garden.'\nSo the Khalif dismounted and entered the garden with his suite;\nwhereupon the man brought out to them a hundred carpets and a\nhundred leather mats and a hundred cushions and set before them\na hundred dishes of fruits, a hundred saucers of sweetmeats and\na hundred bowls full of sherbets of sugar; whereat the Khalif\nmarvelled and said to his host, 'O man, this thy case is a\nstrange one. Didst thou know of our coming and make this\npreparation for us?' 'No, by Allah, O Commander of the Faithful,'\nanswered the other, 'I knew not of thy coming and am but a\nmerchant of the rest of thy subjects. But I have a hundred\nconcubines; so, when the Commander of the Faithful honoured\nme by alighting with me, I sent to each of them, bidding her\nsend me the morning-meal here. So they sent me each of her\nfurniture and of the excess of her meat and drink: and every\nday each sends me a dish of meat and another of marinades, also\na plate of fruits and a saucer of sweetmeats and a bowl of\nsherbet. This is my every- day noon-meal, nor have I added\naught thereto for thee.'\n\nThe Khalif prostrated himself in thanksgiving to God the Most\nHigh and said, 'Praised be God, who hath been so bountiful to\none of our subjects, that he entertaineth the Khalif and his\nsuite, without making ready for them, but of the surplus of his\nday's victual!' Then he sent for all the dirhems in the\ntreasury, that had been struck that year,--and they were in\nnumber three thousand and seven hundred thousand;--nor did he\nmount, till the money came, when he gave it to the merchant,\nsaying, 'Use this for the maintenance of thy state; and thy\ndesert is more than this.' Then he mounted and rode away.\n\n\n\n\n\n            KING KISRA ANOUSHIRWAN AND THE VILLAGE\n                            DAMSEL.\n\n\n\n\nThe just King, Kisra Anoushirwan,[FN#113] was hunting one day\nand became separated from his suite, in pursuit of an antelope.\nPresently, he caught sight of a hamlet, near at hand, and being\nsore athirst, made for the door of a house, that stood by the\nwayside, and asked for a draught of water. A damsel came out\nand looked at him; then, going back into the house, pressed the\njuice from a sugar-cane into a tankard and mixed it with water;\nafter which she strewed on the top somewhat of perfume, as it\nwere dust, and carried it to the King. He took it and seeing in\nit what resembled dust, drank it, little by little, till he\ncame to the end. Then said he to her, 'O damsel, the drink is\ngood and sweet, but for this dust in it, that troubles it.' 'O\nguest,' answered she, 'I put that in, of intent.' 'And why\ndidst thou thus?' asked he; and she replied, 'I saw that thou\nwast exceeding thirsty and feared that thou wouldst swallow the\nwhole at one draught and that this would do thee a mischief;\nand so hadst thou done, but for this dust that troubled the\ndrink.' The King wondered at her wit and good sense and said to\nher, 'How many sugar-canes didst thou press for this draught?'\n'One,' answered she; whereat the King marvelled and calling for\nthe roll of the taxes of the village, saw that its assessment\nwas but little and bethought him to increase it, on his return\nto his palace, saying in himself, 'Why is a village so lightly\ntaxed, where they get this much juice out of one sugar-cane?'\n\nThen he left the village and pursued his chase. As he came back\nat the end of the day, he passed alone by the same door and\ncalled again for drink; whereupon the same damsel came out and\nknowing him, went in to fetch him drink. It was some time\nbefore she returned and the King wondered at this and said to\nher, 'Why hast thou tarried?' Quoth she, 'Because one sugar-\ncane yielded not enough for thy need. So I pressed three; but\nthey yielded not so much as did one aforetime.' 'What is the\ncause of that?' asked the King; and she answered, 'The cause of\nit is that the King's mind is changed.' Quoth he, 'How knewst\nthou that?' 'We hear from the wise,' replied she, 'that, when\nthe King's mind is changed against a folk, their prosperity\nceaseth and their good waxeth less.' Anoushirwan laughed and\nput away from his mind that which he had purposed against the\npeople of the village. Moreover, he took the damsel to wife\nthen and there, being pleased with her much wit and acuteness\nand the excellence of her speech.\n\n\n\n\n\n             THE WATER-CARRIER AND THE GOLDSMITH'S\n                             WIFE.\n\n\n\nThere was once, in the city of Bokhara, a water-carrier, who\nused to carry water to the house of a goldsmith and had done\nthus thirty years. Now the goldsmith had a wife of exceeding\nbeauty and elegance and withal renowned for modesty, chastity\nand piety. One day, the water-carrier came, as of wont, and\npoured the water into the cisterns. Now the woman was standing\nin the midst of the court; so he went up to her and taking her\nhand, stroked it and pressed it, then went away and left her.\nWhen her husband came home from the bazaar, she said to him, 'I\nwould have thee tell me what thou hast done in the bazaar,\ntoday, to anger God the Most High.' Quoth he, 'I have done\nnothing.' 'Nay,' rejoined she, 'but, by Allah, thou hast indeed\ndone something to anger God; and except thou tell me the truth,\nI will not abide in thy house, and thou shalt not see me, nor\nwill I see thee.' 'I will tell thee the truth,' answered he.\n'As I was sitting in my shop this day, a woman came up to me\nand bade me make her a bracelet. Then she went away and I\nwrought her a bracelet of gold and laid it aside. Presently,\nshe returned and I brought her out the bracelet. She put out\nher hand and I clasped the bracelet on her wrist; and I\nwondered at the whiteness of her hand and the beauty of her\nwrist and recalled what the poet says:\n\nBracelets, upon her wrists, of glittering virgin gold She hath,\n     like fire ablaze on running water cold.\nIt is as if the wrists and bracelets thereabout Were water girt\n     with fire, right wondrous to behold.\n\nSo I took her hand and pressed it and squeezed it.' 'God is\nMost Great!' exclaimed the woman. 'Why didst thou this ill\nthing? Know that the water-carrier, who has come to our house\nthese thirty years, nor sawst thou ever any treason in him,\ntook my hand to day and pressed and squeezed it.' Quoth her\nhusband, 'O woman, let us crave pardon of God! Verily, I repent\nof what I did, and do thou ask forgiveness of God for me.' 'God\npardon me and thee,' said she, 'and vouchsafe to make good the\nissue of our affair!'\n\nNext day, the water-carrier came in to the jeweller's wife and\nthrowing himself at her feet, grovelled in the dust and\nbesought pardon of her, saying, 'O my lady, acquit me of that\nwhich Satan deluded me to do; for it was he that seduced me and\nled me astray.' 'Go thy ways,' answered she; 'the fault was not\nin thee, but in my husband, for that he did what he did in his\nshop, and God hath retaliated upon him in this world.' And it\nis related that the goldsmith, when his wife told him how the\nwater-carrier had used her, said, 'Tit for tat! If I had done\nmore, the water-carrier had done more.' And this became a\ncurrent byword among the folk.\n\nSo it behoveth a wife to be both outward and inward with her\nhusband, contenting herself with little from him, if he cannot\ngive her much, and taking pattern by Aaisheh[FN#114] the\nTruthful and Fatimeh[FN#115] the Clean Maid, (may God the Most\nHigh accept of them), that she may be of the company of the\nrighteous.[FN#116]\n\n\n\n\n\n            KHUSRAU AND SHIRIN WITH THE FISHERMAN.\n\n\n\nKing Khusrau[FN#117] of Persia loved fish; and one day, as he\nsat in his saloon, he and Shirin[FN#118] his wife, there came a\nfisherman, with a great fish, and presented it to the King, who\nwas pleased and ordered the man four thousand dirhems. When he\nwas gone, Shirin said to the King, 'Thou hast done ill.'\n'Wherefore?' asked he; and she answered, 'Because if, after\nthis, thou give one of thy courtiers a like sum, he will\ndisdain it and say, \"He hath but given me the like of what he\ngave the fisherman.\" And if thou give him less, he will say,\n\"He makes light of me and gives me less than he gave the\nfisherman.\"' 'Thou art right,' rejoined Khusrau; 'but the thing\nis done and it ill becomes a king to go back on his gift.'\nQuoth Shirin, 'An thou wilt, I will contrive thee a means to\nget it back from him.' 'How so?' asked he; and she said, 'Call\nback the fisherman and ask him if the fish be male or female.\nIf he say, \"Male,\" say thou, \"We want a female,\" and if he say,\n\"Female,\" say, \"We want a male.\"'\n\nSo he sent for the fisherman, who was a man of wit and\ndiscernment, and said to him, 'Is this fish male or female?'\nThe fisherman kissed the ground and answered, 'It is of the\nneuter gender, neither male nor female.' The King laughed and\nordered him other four thousand dirhems. So the fisherman went\nto the treasurer and taking his eight thousand dirhems, put\nthem in a bag he had with him. Then, throwing the bag over his\nshoulder, he was going away, when he dropped a dirhem; so he\nlaid the bag off his back and stooped down to pick it up. Now\nthe King and Shirin were looking on, and the latter said, 'O\nKing, didst thou note the meanness and greediness of yon man,\nin that he must needs stoop down, to pick up the one dirhem,\nand could not bring himself to leave it for one of the King's\nservants?' When the King heard this, he was wroth with the\nfisherman and said, 'Thou art right, O Shirin!' So he called\nthe man back and said to him, 'Thou low-minded fellow! Thou art\nno man! How couldst thou put the bag off thy shoulder and stoop\nto pick up the one dirhem and grudge to leave it where it\nfell?' The fisherman kissed the earth before him and answered,\n'May God prolong the King's life! Indeed, I did not pick up the\ndirhem, because of its value in my eyes; but because on one of\nits faces is the likeness of the King and on the other his\nname; and I feared lest any should unwittingly set his foot\nupon it, thus dishonouring the name and presentment of the\nKing, and I be blamed for the offence.' The King wondered at\nhis wit and shrewdness and ordered him yet other four thousand\ndirhems. Moreover, he let cry abroad in his kingdom, saying,\n'It behoveth none to order himself by women's counsel; for\nwhoso followeth their advice, loseth, with his one dirhem,\nother two.'\n\n\n\n\n\n            YEHYA BEN KHALID THE BARMECIDE AND THE\n                           POOR MAN.\n\n\n\nYehya ben Khalid the Barmecide was returning home, one day,\nfrom the Khalif's palace, when he saw a man at the gate of his\nhouse, who rose at his approach and saluted him, saying, 'O\nYehya, I am in need of that which is in thy hand, and I make\nGod my intermediary with thee.' So Yehya caused set apart a\nplace for him in his house and bade his treasurer carry him a\nthousand dirhems every day and that his food should be of the\nchoicest of his own meat. The man abode thus a whole month, at\nthe end of which time, having received in all thirty thousand\ndirhems, he departed by stealth, fearing lest Yehya should take\nthe money from him, because of the greatness of the sum; and\nwhen they told Yehya of this, he said, 'By Allah, though he had\ntarried with me to the end of his days, yet had I not scanted\nhim of my largesse nor cut off from him the bounties of my\nhospitality!' For, indeed, the excellences of the Barmecides\nwere past count nor can their virtues be told; especially those\nof Yehya teen Khalid, for he abounded in noble qualities, even\nas saith the poet of him:\n\nI asked munificence, \"Art free?\" It answered, \"No, perdie!\n     Yehya ben Khalid's slave am I; my lord and master he.\"\n\"A boughten slave?\" asked I; but, \"Nay, so heaven forfend!\"\n     quoth it. \"From ancestor to ancestor he did inherit me.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n           MOHAMMED EL AMIN AND JAAFER BEN EL HADI.\n\n\n\nJaafer ben Mousa el Hadi[FN#119] once had a slave-girl, a lute\nplayer, called El Bedr el Kebir, than whom there was not in her\ntime a fairer of face nor a better-shaped nor a more elegant of\nmanners nor a more accomplished in singing and smiting the\nstrings; she was indeed perfect in beauty and charm. Mohammed\nel Amin,[FN#120] son of Zubeideh, heard of her and was instant\nwith Jaafer to sell her to him; but he replied, 'Thou knowest\nit beseems not one of my rank to sell slave-girls nor traffic\nin concubines; but, were it not that she was reared in my\nhouse, I would send her to thee, as a gift, nor grudge her to\nthee.'\n\nSome days after this, El Amin went to Jaafer's house, to make\nmerry; and the latter set before him that which it behoves to\nset before friends and bade El Bedr sing to him and gladden\nhim. So she tuned the lute and sang right ravishingly, whilst El\nAmin fell to drinking and making merry and bade the cupbearers\nply Jaafer with wine, till he became drunken, when he took the\ndamsel and carried her to his own house, but laid not a finger\non her. On the morrow, he sent to invite Jaafer; and when he\ncame, he set wine before him and bade the girl sing to him, from\nbehind the curtain. Jaafer knew her voice and was angered at\nthis, but, of the nobleness of his nature and the greatness of\nhis mind, he dissembled his vexation and let no change appear in\nhis demeanour.\n\nWhen the carousel was at an end, El Amin commanded one of his\nservants to fill the boat, in which Jaafer had come, with\ndirhems and dinars and all manner jewels and jacinths and rich\nclothes and other treasures of price. So he laid therein a\nthousand myriads of money and a thousand fine pearls, each\nworth twenty thousand dirhems; nor did he give over loading the\nbarge with all manner of precious things, till the boatmen\ncried out for quarter, saying, 'The boat cannot hold any more;'\nwhereupon he bade them carry all this to Jaafer's palace. Such\nare the fashions of the magnanimous, may God have mercy on\nthem!\n\n\n\n\n\n\n           THE SONS OF YEHYA BEN KHALID AND SAID BEN\n                       SALIM EL BAHILI.\n\n\n\n(Quoth Said ben Salim el Bahili[FN#121]), I was once, in the\ndays of Haroun er Reshid, in very narrow case and greatly\noppressed with debts, that had accumulated upon me and that I\nhad no means of discharging. My doors were blocked up with\ncreditors and I was without cease importuned for payment by\nclaimants, who dunned me in crowds, till I was at my wits'\nend what to do. At last, being sore perplexed and troubled,\nI betook myself to Abdallah ben Malik el Khuzai[FN#122] and\nbesought him to aid me with his judgment and of his good\ncounsel direct me to the door of relief; and he said, \"None can\nquit thee of this thy strait but the Barmecides.\" Quoth I, \"Who\ncan brook their pride and put up with their arrogance?\" And he\nanswered, \"Thou must put up with it, for the sake of amending\nthy case.\" So I left him and went straight to El Fezl and\nJaafer, sons of Yehya ben Khalid, to whom I related my case.\n\"God give thee His aid,\" answered they, \"and enable thee by\nHis bounties to dispense with the aid of His creatures and\nvouchsafe thee abundant good and bestow on thee what shall\nsuffice thee, without the need of any but Himself; for He can\nwhat He will and is gracious and provident with His servants.\"\n\nI went out from them and returned to Abdallah, disappointed and\nperplexed and heavy at heart, and told him what they had said.\nQuoth he, \"Thou wouldst do well to abide with us this day, that\nwe may see what God the Most High will decree.\" So I sat with\nhim awhile, and lo, up came my servant, who said to me, \"O my\nlord, there are at our door many laden mules, and with them a\nman, who says he is the agent of Fezl and Jaafer ben Yehya.\"\nQuoth Abdallah, \"I trust that relief is come to thee: go and\nsee what is to do.\" So I left him and running to my house,\nfound at the door a man, who gave me a letter, wherein was\nwritten the following: \"Know that, after thou hadst been with\nus and acquainted us with thy case, we betook ourselves to the\nKhalif and informed him that the case had reduced thee to the\nhumiliation of begging; whereupon he ordered thee a million\ndirhems from the Treasury. We represented to him that thou\nwouldst spend this money in paying thy creditors and said,\n'Whence shall he provide for his subsistence?' So he ordered\nthee other three hundred thousand, and we have sent thee, of\nour own money, a million dirhems each, so that thou hast now\nthree millions and three hundred thousand dirhems, wherewithal\nto order thine affair and amend thine estate.\"\n\nSee, then, the munificence of these generous men; may God the\nMost High have mercy on them!\n\n\n\n\n\n            THE WOMAN'S TRICK AGAINST HER HUSBAND.\n\n\n\nA man brought his wife a fish one Friday and bidding her cook\nit against the end of the congregational prayers, went out to\nhis business. Meanwhile, there came in her friend,[FN#123] who\nbade her to a wedding at his house; so she agreed and laying\nthe fish in a jar of water, went off with him and was absent a\nwhole week, whilst her husband sought her from house to house\nand enquired after her; but none could give him any news of\nher.\n\nOn the following Friday, she came home, [and he fell to chiding\nand reproaching her;] but she brought out to him the fish alive\nfrom the jar and assembled the folk against him. He told them\nhis case; but they credited him not and said, 'It cannot be\nthat the fish should have remained alive all this while.' So\nthey caused adjudge him mad and imprisoned him and laughed at\nhim, whereupon he wept sore and recited the following verses:\n\nA hag, that holds high rank, indeed, in lewdness! In her face\n     Are witnesses that testify to filth and wantonness.\nWhen she's unclean, she bawds; and when she's clean, she plays\n     the whore: So, all her time, she's either bawd or else\n     adulteress.\n\n\n\n\n\n              THE DEVOUT WOMAN AND THE TWO WICKED\n                        ELDERS.[FN#124]\n\nThere was once, of old time, a virtuous woman among the children\nof Israel, who was pious and devout and used every day to go out\nto the place of prayer, first entering a garden, which adjoined\nthereto, and there making the ablution. Now there were in this\ngarden two old men, its keepers, who fell in love with her\nand sought her favours; but she refused, whereupon said they,\n'Except thou yield thyself to us, we will bear witness against\nthee of fornication.' Quoth she, 'God will preserve me from your\nwickedness!' Then they opened the garden-gate and cried out, and\nthe folk came to them from all sides, saying, 'What ails you?'\nQuoth they, 'We found this damsel in company with a youth, who\nwas doing lewdness with her; but he escaped from our hands.'\n\nNow it was the use of the people of those days to expose an\nadulteress to public ignominy for three days and after stone\nher. So they pilloried her three days, whilst the two old men\ncame up to her daily and laying their hands on her head, said,\n'Praised be God who hath sent down His vengeance on thee!'\n\nOn the fourth day, they carried her away, to stone her; but a\nlad of twelve years old, by name Daniel, followed them to the\nplace of execution and said to them, 'Hasten not to stone her,\ntill I judge between them.' So they set him a chair and he sat\ndown and caused bring the old men before him separately. (Now\nhe was the first that separated witnesses.) Then said he to the\nfirst, 'What sawest thou?' So he repeated to him his story, and\nDaniel said, 'In what part of the garden did this befall?' 'On\nthe eastern side,' replied the elder, 'under a pear-tree.' Then\nhe called the other old man and asked him the same question;\nand he replied, 'On the western side of the garden, under an\napple-tree.' Meanwhile the damsel stood by, with her hands and\neyes uplift to heaven, imploring God for deliverance. Then God\nthe Most High sent down His vengeful thunder upon the two old\nmen and consumed them and made manifest the innocence of the\ndamsel.\n\nThis was the first of the miracles of the Prophet Daniel, on\nwhom and on the Prophet be blessing and peace!\n\n\n\n\n\n               JAAFER THE BARMECIDE AND THE OLD\n                           BEDOUIN.\n\n\n\nThe Khalif Haroun er Reshid went out one day, with Abou Yousuf\nthe minion and Jaafer the Barmecide and Abou Nuwas, into the\ndesert, where they fell in with an old man, leant upon his ass.\nThe Khalif bade Jaafer ask him whence he came; so he said to\nhim, 'Whence comest thou?' 'From Bassora,' answered the\nBedouin. 'And whither goest thou?' asked Jaafer. 'To Baghdad,'\nsaid the other. 'And what wilt thou do there?' asked Jaafer. 'I\ngo to seek medicine for my eye,' replied the old man. Quoth the\nKhalif, 'O Jaafer, make us sport with him.' 'If I jest with\nhim,' answered Jaafer, 'I shall hear what I shall not like.'\nBut Er Reshid rejoined, 'I charge thee, on my authority, jest\nwith him.'\n\nSo Jaafer said to the Bedouin, 'If I prescribe thee a remedy\nthat shall profit thee, what wilt thou give me in return?'\nQuoth the other, 'God the Most High will requite thee for me\nwith better than I can give thee.' 'Harkye, then,' said Jaafer,\n'and I will give thee a prescription, which I have given to\nnone but thee.' 'What is that?' asked the Bedouin; and Jaafer\nanswered, 'Take three ounces of wind-wafts and the like of\nsunbeams and moonshine and lamp-light; mix them together and\nlet them lie in the wind three months. Then bray them three\nmonths in a mortar without a bottom and laying them in a cleft\nplatter, set it in the wind other three months; after which use\nthree drachms every night in thy sleep, and (God willing) thou\nshalt be cured.'\n\nWhen the Bedouin heard this, he stretched himself out on the\nass's back and letting fly a terrible great crack of wind, said\nto Jaafer, 'Take this, in payment of thy prescription. When I\nhave followed it, if God grant me recovery, I will give thee a\nslave-girl, who shall serve thee in thy lifetime a service,\nwherewith God shall cut short thy term; and when thou diest and\nGod hurries thy soul to the fire, she shall blacken thy face\nwith her ordure, of her mourning for thee, and lament and\nbuffet her face, saying, \"O frosty-beard, what a ninny thou\nwast!\"'[FN#125] The Khalif laughed till he fell backward, and\nordered the Bedouin three thousand dirhems.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n              THE KHALIF OMAR BEN KHETTAB AND THE\n                        YOUNG BEDOUIN.\n\n\n\nThe sheriff[FN#126] Hussein ben Reyyan relates that the Khalif\nOmar ben Khettab was sitting one day, attended by his chief\ncounsellors, judging the folk and doing justice between his\nsubjects, when there came up to him two handsome young men,\nhaling by the collar a third youth, perfectly handsome and\nwell dressed, whom they set before him. Omar looked at him and\nbade them loose him; then, calling him near to himself, said\nto them, 'What is your case with him?' 'O Commander of the\nFaithful,' answered they, 'we are two brothers by one mother\nand known as followers of the truth. We had a father, a very\nold man of good counsel, held in honour of the tribes, pure of\nbasenesses and renowned for virtues, who reared us tenderly,\nwhilst we were little, and loaded us with favours, when we\ngrew up; in fine, a man abounding in noble and illustrious\nqualities, worthy of the poet's words:\n\n\"Is Abou es Sekr of Sheiban[FN#127]?\" they questioned of me;\n     and \"No,\" I answered, \"my life upon it! But Sheiban's of\n     him, I trow.\nHow many a father hath ris'n in repute by a noble son, As\n     Adnan,[FN#128] by God's Apostle, to fame and glory did\n     grow!\"\n\nHe went forth this day to his garden, to take his pleasure\namongst its trees and pluck the ripe fruits, when this young\nman slew him and swerved from the road of righteousness;\nwherefore we demand of thee the retribution of his crime and\ncall upon thee to pass judgment upon him, according to the\ncommandment of God.'\n\nThe Khalif cast a terrible look at the accused youth and said\nto him, 'Thou hearest the complaint of these young men; what\nhast thou to say in reply?' Now he was stout of heart and ready\nof speech, having doffed the wede of faint-heartedness and put\noff the apparel of affright; so he smiled and after paying the\nusual ceremonial compliment to the Khalif, in the most eloquent\nand elegant words, said, 'O Commander of the Faithful, I have\ngiven ear to their complaint, and they have said sooth in that\nwhich they avouch, so far as they have set out what befell; and\nthe commandment of God is a decreed decree.[FN#129] But I will\nstate my case before thee, and thine be it to decide thereon.\n\nKnow then, O Commander of the Faithful, that I am a very Arab\nof the Arabs, the noblest of those that are beneath the skies.\nI grew up in the dwellings of the desert, till evil and hostile\ntimes fell upon my tribe, when I came to the utterward of this\ntown, with my children and good and household. As I went along\none of the paths between the gardens, with my she-camels, high\nin esteem with me and precious to me, and midst them a stallion\nof noble race and goodly shape, a plenteous getter, by whom the\nfemales bore abundantly and who walked among them, as he were a\ncrowned king,--behold, one of the she-camels broke away and\nrunning to the garden of these young men's father, began to\ncrop the branches that showed above the wall. I ran to her, to\ndrive her away, when there appeared, at a breach of the wall,\nan old man, whose eyes sparkled with anger, holding a stone in\nhis right hand and swaying to and fro, like a lion preparing\nfor a spring. He cast the stone at my stallion, and it struck\nhim in a vital part and killed him. When I saw the stallion\ndrop dead beside me, live coals of anger were kindled in my\nheart; so I took up the stone and throwing it at the old man,\nit was the cause of his end: thus his own wrongful act returned\nagainst him and the man was slain of that wherewith he slew.\nWhen the stone struck him, he cried out with a terrible great\ncry, and I hastened from the spot; but these young men hurried\nafter me and laying hands on me, carried me before thee.'\n\nQuoth Omar, (may God the Most High accept of him), 'Thou hast\nconfessed thy crime and acquittal is impossible; for [the law\nof] retaliation is imperative and there is no time of escape.'\n[FN#130] 'I hear and obey the judgment of the Imam,' answered\nthe Bedouin, 'and am content to submit me to the requirement\nof the law of Islam; but I have a young brother, whose old\nfather, before his death, appointed to him great store of\nwealth and much gold and committed his affair to me, saying,\n\"I give this into thy hand for thy brother; keep it for him\nwith thy might.\" So I took the money and buried it; nor doth\nany know of it but I. Now, if thou adjudge me to die forthright,\nthe money will be lost and thou wilt be the cause of its loss;\nwherefore the little one will sue thee for his due on the day\nwhen God shall judge His creatures. But, if thou wilt grant\nme three days' delay, I will appoint one to undertake the boy's\naffair, in my stead, and return to answer my debt; and I have\none who will be my surety for this my word.'\n\nThe Khalif bowed his head awhile, then raised it and looking\nround upon those present, said, 'Who will be surety to me for\nhis return?' The Bedouin looked at the faces of those who were\nin company and pointing to Abou Dherr,[FN#131] said, 'This man\nwill answer for me and be my surety.' 'O Abou Dherr,' said Omar,\n'dost thou hear what this youth says and wilt thou be surety\nto me for his return?' 'Yes, O Commander of the Faithful,'\nanswered Abou Dherr, 'I will be surety for him three days.'\nSo the Khalif accepted his guarantee and let the young man go.\n\nNow, at the appointed time, when the days of grace were nearly\nor quite at end and still the Bedouin came not, the Khalif sat\nin his council, with the Companions[FN#132] surrounding him,\nlike the stars about the moon, Abou Dherr and the plaintiffs\nbeing also present; and the latter said, 'O Abou Dherr, where\nis the defendant and how shall he return, having once escaped?\nBut we will not stir hence, till thou bring him to us, that we\nmay take our wreak of him.' 'As the All-Wise King liveth,'\nreplied Abou Dherr, 'if the days of grace expire and the young\nman return not, I will fulfil my warranty and surrender myself\nto the Imam.' 'By Allah,' rejoined Omar, 'if the young man\ntarry, I will assuredly execute on Abou Dherr that which is\nprescribed by the law of Islam!' Thereupon the eyes of the\nbystanders ran over with tears; those who looked on raised\ngroans, and great was the clamour. Then the chiefs of the\nCompanions were instant with the plaintiffs to accept the\nbloodwit and win the thanks of the folk, but they refused and\nwould nothing but the talion. However, as the folk were swaying\nto and fro and clamorously bemoaning Abou Dherr, up came the\nyoung Bedouin, with face beaded with sweat and shining like the\nnew moon, and standing before the Imam, saluted him right\nfairly and said to him, 'I have given the boy in charge to his\nmother's brothers and have made them acquainted with all that\npertains to his affairs and let them into the secret of his\ngood; after which I braved the heats of midday and am come to\nredeem the promise of a free-born man.'\n\nThe folk marvelled at his good faith and loyalty and his\nintrepid offering himself to death; and one said to him, 'How\nnoble a youth art thou and how loyal to thy promise and thy\nduty!' 'Are ye not certified,' rejoined he, 'that when death\npresenteth itself none can escape from it? And indeed I have\nkept faith, that it be not said, \"Loyalty is gone from among\nmen.\"' 'By Allah, O Commander of the Faithful,' said Abou\nDherr, 'I became warrant for this young man, without knowing to\nwhat tribe he belonged, nor had I seen him before that day; but\nwhen he turned away from all else who were present and singled\nme out, saying, \"This man will answer for me and be my surety,\"\nI thought ill to refuse him, and humanity forbade to baulk his\nexpectation, there being no harm in compliance with his desire,\nthat it be not said, \"Benevolence is gone from among men.\"'\nThen said the two young men, 'O Commander of the Faithful, we\nforgive this youth our father's blood,--seeing that [by his\nnoble behaviour] he hath changed desolation into cheer,--that\nit be not said, \"Humanity is gone from among men.\"'\n\nThe Khalif rejoiced in the acquittance of the young Bedouin and\nhis truth and good faith; moreover, he extolled the humanity of\nAbou Dherr, over all his companions, and approved the benevolent\nresolve of the two young men, giving them grateful praise and\napplying to their case the saying of the poet:\n\nHe who doth good among the folk shall be repaid again; For\n     works of Good are never lost betwixten God and men.\n\nThen he offered to pay them, from the Treasury, the bloodwit\nfor their father; but they refused, saying, 'We forgave him but\nof our desire unto God the Bountiful, the Exalted; and he who\nis thus minded followeth not his benefits with reproach neither\nmischief.'\n\n\n\n\n\n           THE KHALIF EL MAMOUN AND THE PYRAMIDS OF\n                            EGYPT.\n\n\n\nIt is told that the Khalif El Mamoun, son of Haroun er Reshid,\nwhen he entered the [God-]guarded city of Cairo, was minded to\npull down the Pyramids, that he might take what was therein;\nbut, when he went about to do this, he could not avail thereto,\nfor all his endeavour. He expended great sums of money in the\nattempt, but only succeeded in opening up a small gallery in\none of them, wherein he found treasure, to the exact amount of\nthe money he had spent in the works, neither more nor less; at\nwhich he marvelled and taking what he found there, desisted\nfrom his intent.\n\nNow the Pyramids are three in number, and they are one of the\nwonders of the world; nor is there on the face of the earth\ntheir like for height and fashion and skilful ordinance; for\nthey are builded of immense rocks, and they who built them\nproceeded by piercing one block of stone and setting therein\nupright rods of iron; after which they pierced a second block\nof stone and lowered it upon the first. Then they poured melted\nlead upon the joints and set the blocks in geometrical order,\ntill the building was complete. The height of each pyramid was\na hundred cubits, of the measure of the time, and it was four-\nsquare, each side three hundred cubits long, at the bottom, and\nsloping upward thence to a point. The ancients say that, in the\nwestern Pyramid, are thirty chambers of vari-coloured granite,\nfull of precious stones and treasures galore and rare images\nand utensils and costly arms, which latter are anointed with\nmagical unguents, so that they may not rust till the day of\nResurrection. Therein, also, are vessels of glass, that will\nbend and not break, containing various kinds of compound drugs\nand medicinal waters. In the second Pyramid are the records of\nthe priests, written on tablets of granite,--to each priest his\ntablet, on which are set out the wonders of his craft and his\nachievements; and on the walls are figures like idols, working\nwith their hands at all manner crafts and seated on thrones. To\neach pyramid there is a guardian, that keeps watch over it and\nguards it, to all eternity, against the ravages of time and the\nvicissitudes of events; and indeed the marvels of these\npyramids astound all who have eyes and wit. Many are the poems\nthat describe them, thou shalt profit no great matter thereby,\nand among the rest, quoth one of them:\n\nThe high resolves of kings, if they would have them to abide In\n     memory, after them, are in the tongues of monuments.\nDost thou not see the Pyramids? They, of a truth, endure And\n     change not for the shifts of time or chances of events.\n\nAnd again:\n\nConsider but the Pyramids and lend an ear to all They tell of\n     bygone times and that which did of yore befall.\nCould they but speak, assuredly they would to us relate What\n     time and fate have done with first and last and great and\n     small.\n\nAnd again:\n\nI prithee, tell me, friend of mine, stands there beneath the\n     sky A building with the Pyramids of Egypt that can vie\nIn skilful ordinance? Behold, Time's self's afraid of them,\n     Though of all else upon the earth 'tis dreaded, low and\n     high.\nMy sight no longer rests upon their wondrous ordinance, Yet are\n     they present evermore unto my spirit's eye.\n\nAnd again:\n\nWhere's he the Pyramids who built? What was his tribe, His time\n     and what the place where he was stricken dead?\nThe monuments survive their lords awhile; then death O'ertaketh\n     them and they fall prostrate in their stead.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n            THE THIEF TURNED MERCHANT AND THE OTHER\n                            THIEF.\n\n\n\nThere was once a thief who repented to God the Most High and\nmaking good his repentance, opened himself a shop for the sale\nof stuffs, where he continued to trade awhile. One day, he\nlocked his shop and went home; and in the night there came to\nthe bazaar a cunning thief, disguised in the habit of the\nmerchant, and pulling out keys from his sleeve, said to the\nwatchman of the market, 'Light me this candle.' So the watchman\ntook the candle and went to get a light, whilst the thief\nopened the shop and lit another candle he had with him. When\nthe watchman came back, he found him seated in the shop,\nlooking over the account-books and reckoning with his fingers;\nnor did he leave to do thus till point of day, when he said to\nthe man, 'Fetch me a camel-driver and his camel, to carry some\ngoods for me.' So the man fetched him a camel, and the thief\ntook four bales of stuffs and gave them to the camel-driver,\nwho loaded them on his beast. Then he gave the watchman two\ndirhems and went away after the camel-driver, the watchman the\nwhile believing him to be the owner of the shop.\n\nNext morning, the merchant came and the watchman greeted\nhim with blessings, because of the two dirhems, much to the\nsurprise of the former, who knew not what he meant. When he\nopened his shop, he saw the droppings of the wax and the\naccount-book lying on the floor, and looking round, found\nfour bales of stuffs missing. So he asked the watchman what\nhad happened and he told him what had passed in the night,\nwhereupon the merchant bade him fetch the camel-driver and said\nto the latter, 'Whither didst thou carry the stuffs?' 'To such\na wharf,' answered the driver; 'and I stowed them on board such\na vessel.' 'Come with me thither,' said the merchant. So the\ncamel-driver carried him to the wharf and showed him the barque\nand her owner. Quoth the merchant to the latter, 'Whither didst\nthou carry the merchant and the stuff?' 'To such a place,'\nanswered the master, 'where he fetched a camel-driver and\nsetting the bales on the camel, went I know not whither.'\n'Fetch me the camel-driver,' said the merchant; so he fetched\nhim and the merchant said to him, 'Whither didst thou carry the\nbales of stuffs from the ship?' 'To such a khan,' answered he.\n'Come thither with me and show it to me,' said the merchant.\n\nSo the camel-driver went with him to a khan at a distance from\nthe shore, where he had set down the stuffs, and showed him the\nmock merchant's magazine, which he opened and found therein his\nfour bales untouched and unopened. The thief had laid his\nmantle over them; so the merchant took the bales and the cloak\nand delivered them to the camel-driver, who laid them on his\ncamel; after which the merchant locked the magazine and went\naway with the camel-driver. On the way, he met the thief, who\nfollowed him, till he had shipped the bales, when he said to\nhim, 'O my brother (God have thee in His keeping!), thou hast\nrecovered thy goods, and nought of them is lost; so give me\nback my cloak.' The merchant laughed and giving him back his\ncloak, let him go unhindered.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n             MESROUR THE EUNUCH AND IBN EL CARIBI\n\n\n\nThe Khalif Haroun er Reshid was very restless one night; so he\nsaid to his Vizier Jaafer, 'I am sleepless tonight and my heart\nis oppressed and I know not what to do.' Now his henchman\nMesrour was standing before him, and he laughed. Quoth the\nKhalif, 'Dost thou laugh in derision of me or art thou mad?'\n'Neither, by Allah, O Commander of the Faithful,' answered\nMesrour, 'by thy kinship to the Prince of Apostles, I did it\nnot of my free-will; but I went out yesterday to walk and\ncoming to the bank of the Tigris, saw there the folk collected\nabout a man named Ibn el Caribi, who was making them laugh; and\nbut now I recalled what he said, and laughter got the better of\nme; and I crave pardon of thee, O Commander of the Faithful!'\n'Bring him to me forthright,' said the Khalif. So Mesrour\nrepaired in all haste to Ibn el Caribi and said to him, 'The\nCommander of the Faithful calls for thee.' 'I hear and obey,'\nanswered the droll. 'But on condition,' added Mesrour, 'that,\nif he give thee aught, thou shalt have a fourth and the rest\nshall be mine.' 'Nay,' replied the other, 'thou shalt have half\nand I half.' 'Not so,' insisted Mesrour; 'I will have three-\nquarters.' 'Thou shalt have two-thirds, then,' rejoined Ibn el\nCaribi; 'and I the other third.' To this Mesrour agreed, after\nmuch haggling, and they returned to the palace together.\n\nWhen Ibn el Caribi came into the Khalif's presence, he saluted\nhim, as became his rank, and stood before him; whereupon said\nEr Reshid to him, 'If thou do not make me laugh, I will give\nthee three blows with this bag.' Quoth Ibn el Caribi in\nhimself, 'Three strokes with that bag were a small matter,\nseeing that beating with whips irketh me not;' for he thought\nthe bag was empty. Then he clapped into a discourse, such as\nwould make a stone laugh, and gave vent to all manner of\ndrolleries; but the Khalif laughed not neither smiled, whereat\nIbn el Caribi marvelled and was chagrined and affrighted. Then\nsaid the Khalif, 'Now hast thou earned the beating,' and gave\nhim a blow with the bag, in which were four pebbles, each two\npounds in weight. The blow fell on his neck and he gave a great\ncry, then calling to mind his compact with Mesrour, said,\n'Pardon, O Commander of the Faithful! Hear two words from me.'\n'Say on,' replied the Khalif. Quoth Ibn el Caribi, 'Mesrour\nmade it a condition with me that, whatsoever might come to me\nof the bounties of the Commander of the Faithful, one-third\nthereof should be mine and the rest his; nor did he agree to\nleave me so much as one-third save after much haggling. Now\nthou hast bestowed on me nothing but beating; I have had my\nshare and here stands he, ready to receive his; so give him the\ntwo other blows.'\n\nWhen the Khalif heard this, he laughed till he fell backward;\nthen calling Mesrour, he gave him a blow, whereat he cried out\nand said, 'O Commander of the Faithful, one-third sufficeth me:\ngive him the two-thirds.' The Khalif laughed at them and\nordered them a thousand diners each, and they went away,\nrejoicing.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                      THE DEVOUT PRINCE.\n\n\n\nThe Khalif Haroun er Reshid had a son, who, from the time he\nattained the age of sixteen, renounced the world and walked in\nthe way of ascetics and devotees. He was wont to go out to the\ntombs and say, 'Behold, ye that lie here once possessed the\nworld, but that was no deliverer for you [from death], and now\nare ye come to your graves! Would God I knew what ye say and\nwhat is said to you!' And he wept, as one weeps that is\ntroubled and fearful, and repeated the words of the poet:\n\nWhene'er the funerals pass, my heart with fear is torn, And the\n     wailing of the mourners maketh me to mourn.\n\nOne day, as he sat among the tombs, according to his wont, his\nfather passed by, in all his state, surrounded by his viziers\nand grandees and the officers of his household, who saw the\nKhalif's son, with a gown of woollen stuff on his body and a\ncowl of the same on his head, and said to one another, 'This\nyouth dishonours the Commander of the Faithful among Kings:\nbut, if he reproved him, he would leave his present way of\nlife.' The Khalif heard what they said; so he bespoke his son\nof this, saying, 'O my son, thou puttest me to shame by thy\npresent way of life.' The young man looked at him and made no\nreply: then he beckoned to a bird, that was perched on the\nbattlements of the palace, and said to it, 'O bird, I conjure\nthee, by Him who created thee, alight upon my hand.' And\nstraightway it flew down and perched on his hand. Quoth he,\n'Return to thy place;' and it did so. Then he said, 'Alight on\nthe hand of the Commander of the Faithful;' but it refused, and\nhe said to his father, 'It is thou that puttest me to shame,\namongst the friends of God, by thy love of the world; and now I\nam resolved to depart from thee, never to return to thee, save\nin the world to come.' Then he went down to Bassora, where he\nfell to working with those that wrought in mud,[FN#133] taking,\nas his day's hire, but a dirhem and a danic.[FN#134] With the\ndanic he fed himself and gave alms of the dirhem.\n\n(Quoth Abou Aamir of Bassora), There fell down a wall in my\nhouse: so I went out to the station of the artisans, to find\none who should set it up for me, and my eyes fell on a handsome\nyouth of a radiant countenance. So I accosted him and said to\nhim, \"O my friend, dost thou seek work?\" \"Yes,\" answered he;\nand I said, \"Come with me and build a wall.\" \"On two conditions,\"\nreplied he. Quoth I, \"What are they, O my friend?\" \"First,\"\nsaid he, \"that my hire be a dirhem and a danic, and secondly,\nthat, when the Muezzin calls to prayer, thou shalt let me\ngo pray with the congregation.\" \"It is well,\" answered I\nand carried him to my house, where he fell to work, such work\nas I never saw the like of. Presently, I named to him the\nmorning meal; but he said, \"No;\" and I knew that he was\nfasting. When he heard the call to prayer, he said to me, \"Thou\nknowest the condition?\" \"Yes,\" answered I. So he loosed his\ngirdle and applying himself to the ablution, made it after a\nfashion than which I never saw a goodlier; then went to the\nmosque and prayed with the congregation and returned to his\nwork. He did the like upon the call to afternoon-prayer, and\nwhen I saw him fall to work again thereafterward, I said to\nhim, \"O my friend, the hours of labour are over for to-day; a\nworkman's day is but till the time of afternoon-prayer.\" \"Glory\nbe to God,\" answered he, \"my service is till the night.\" And he\nceased not to work till nightfall, when I gave him two dirhems.\nQuoth he, \"What is this?\" \"By Allah,\" answered I, \"this is\n[but] part of thy wage, because of thy diligence in my service.\"\nBut he threw me back the two pieces, saying, \"I will have no\nmore than was agreed upon between us.\" I pressed him to take\nthem, but could not prevail upon him; so I gave him the dirhem\nand the danic, and he went away.\n\nNext morning early, I went to the station, but found him not;\nso I enquired for him and was told that he came thither only on\nSaturdays. So, when Saturday came, I betook me to the market\nand finding him there, said to him, \"In the name of God, do me\nthe favour to come and work for me.\" [\"Willingly,\"] said he,\n\"upon the conditions thou wottest of.\" \"It is well,\" answered I\nand carrying him to my house, stood watching him, unseen of\nhim, and saw him take a handful of mud and lay it on the wall,\nwhen, behold, the stones ranged themselves one upon another;\nand I said, \"On this wise are the friends of God.\" He worked\nout his day and did even more than before; and when it was\nnight, I gave him his hire, and he took it and went away.\n\nWhen the third Saturday came round, I went to the standing, but\nfound him not; so I enquired for him and was told that he lay\nsick in the hut of such a woman. Now this was an old woman,\nrenowned for piety, who had a hut of reeds in the burial-\nground. So I went thither and found him lying on the naked\nearth, with a brick for a pillow and his face beaming with\nlight. I saluted him and he returned my salute; and I sat\ndown at his head, weeping over his tenderness of years and\nstrangerhood and submission to the will of his Lord. Then said\nI to him, \"Hast thou any need?\" \"Yes,\" answered he; and I said,\n\"What is it?\" He replied, \"Come hither tomorrow in the forenoon\nand thou wilt find me dead. Wash me and dig my grave and tell\nnone thereof: but shroud me in this my gown, after thou hast\nunsewn it and taken out what thou shalt find in the bosom,\nwhich keep with thee. Then, when thou hast prayed over me and\nlaid me in the dust, go to Baghdad and watch for the Khalif\nHaroun er Reshid, till he come forth, when do thou bear him my\nsalutation and give him what thou shalt find in the breast of\nmy gown.\" Then he made the profession of the Faith and glorified\nhis Lord in the most eloquent of words, reciting the following\nverses:\n\nCarry the trust of him on whom the wished-for death hath come\n     To Er Reshid, and thy reward with thy Creator stand!\n\"An exile greets thee,\" say, \"who longed full sorely for thy\n     sight; With long desire he yearned for thee, far in a\n     foreign strand.\nNor hate nor weariness from thee estranged him, for, indeed, To\n     God Most High he was brought near by kissing thy right\n     hand.\nBut, O my father, 'twas his heart, shunning the vain delights\n     Of this thy world, that drove him forth to seek a distant\n     land!\"\n\nThen he betook himself to prayer, asking pardon of God and\nblessing the Lord of the Just[FN#135] and repeating verses of\nthe Koran; after which he recited the following:\n\nLet not prosperity delude thee, father mine; For fortune wastes\n     and life itself must pass away.\nWhenas thou com'st to know of folk in evil plight, Think thou\n     must answer it upon the Judgment Day;\nAnd when thou bearest forth the dead unto the tombs, Think that\n     thou, too, must pass upon the self-same way!\n\nThen I left him and went home. On the morrow, I returned, at\nthe appointed hour, and found him indeed dead, the mercy of God\nbe on him! So I washed him and unsewing his gown, found in the\nbosom a ruby worth thousands of diners and said to myself, \"By\nAllah, this youth was indeed abstracted from the things of this\nworld!\" After I had buried him, I made my way to Baghdad and\ngoing to the Khalif's palace, waited till he came forth, when I\naccosted him in one of the streets and gave him the ruby, which\nwhen he saw, he knew and fell down in a swoon. His attendants\nlaid hands on me, but he revived and bade them unhand me and\nbring me courteously to the palace. They did his bidding, and\nwhen he returned, he sent for me and carrying me into his\ncloset, said to me, \"How doth the owner of this ruby?\" Quoth I,\n\"He is dead;\" and told him what had passed; whereupon he fell\na-weeping and said, \"The son hath profited, but the father is\ndisappointed.\" Then he called out, saying, \"Ho, such an one!\"\nAnd behold, a woman came out to him. When she saw me, she would\nhave withdrawn; but he said to her, \"Come; and heed him not.\"\nSo she entered and saluted, and he threw her the ruby, which\nwhen she knew, she gave a great shriek and fell down in a\nswoon. As soon as she came to herself, she said, \"O Commander\nof the Faithful, what hath God done with my son?\" And he said\nto me, \"Do thou tell her;\" for he could not speak for weeping.\nSo I repeated the story to her, and she began to weep and say\nin a failing voice, \"How I have longed for thy sight, O\nconsolation of my eyes! Would I might have given thee to drink,\nwhen thou hadst none to tend thee! Would I might have companied\nwith thee, whenas thou foundest none to cheer thee!\" And she\npoured forth tears and recited the following verses:\n\nI weep for one to whom death came, an exile and in pain: Alone\n     he died, without a friend to whom he might complain.\nPuissant and honoured and conjoined with those that loved him\n     dear, To live alone and seeing none, unfriended, he was\n     fain.\nThat which the days conceal shall yet be manifest to us: Not\n     one of us by death, indeed, unsmitten may remain.\nO absent one, the Lord of all decreed thy strangerhood, And\n     thou left'st far behind the love that was betwixt us\n     twain!\nThough death, my son, forbid me hope to see thee in this life,\n     Tomorrow, on the Reckoning-Day, we two shall meet again.\n\nQuoth I, \"O Commander of the Faithful, was he indeed thy son?\"\n\"Yes,\" answered he; \"and indeed, before I succeeded to this\noffice, he was wont to visit the learned and company with the\ndevout; but, when I became Khalif, he grew estranged from me\nand withdrew himself apart. Then said I to his mother, 'This\nthy son is absorbed in God the Most High, and it may be that\ntribulations shall befall him and he be smitten with stress of\nevil chance; wherefore, do thou give him this ruby, that it may\nbe to him a resource in the hour of need.' So she gave it him,\nconjuring him to take it, and he obeyed her. Then he left the\nthings of our world to us and removed himself from us; nor did\nhe cease to be absent from us, till he went to the presence of\nGod (to whom belong might and majesty) with a holy and pure\nmind.\" Then said he, \"Come, show me his grave.\" So we repaired\nto Bassora and I showed him his son's grave. When he saw it, he\nwept and lamented, till he fell down in a swoon; after which he\ncame to himself and asked pardon of God, saying, \"We are God's,\nand to Him we return!\" and invoked blessings on the dead. Then he\nbesought me of companionship; but I said to him, \"O Commander of\nthe Faithful, verily, in thy son's case is for me the gravest of\nadmonitions!\" And I recited the following verses:\n\n'Tis I am the stranger! None harbours the wight, Though he lie\n     in his native city by night.\n'Tis I am the exile! Nor children nor wife Nor comrades have I,\n     to take ruth on my plight.\nThe mosques are my refuge; I haunt them indeed: My heart from\n     their shelter shall never take flight.\nTo the Lord of all creatures, to God be the praise, Whilst yet\n     in the body abideth the spright!\n\n\n\n\n\n             THE SCHOOLMASTER WHO FELL IN LOVE BY\n                            REPORT.\n\n\n\n(Quoth one of the erudite), I passed once by a [school, in\nwhich a] schoolmaster, comely of aspect and well dressed, was\nteaching children; so I entered, and he rose and made me sit\nwith him. Then I examined him in the Koran and in syntax and\npoetry and lexicography, and found him perfect in all that was\nrequired of him and said to him, \"God strengthen thy purpose!\nThou art indeed versed in all that is sought of thee.\" So I\nfrequented him awhile, discovering daily some new excellence\nin him, and said to myself, \"This is indeed a wonder in a\nschoolmaster; for the understanding are agreed upon the lack of\nwit of those that teach children.\" Then I separated myself from\nhim and sought him out and visited him [only] every few days,\ntill, one day, coming to see him as of wont, I found the school\nshut and made enquiry of the neighbours, who said, \"Some one is\ndead in his house.\" So I said to myself, \"It behoves me to pay\nhim a visit of condolence,\" and going to his house, knocked at\nthe door. A slave-girl came out to me and said, \"What dost thou\nwant?\" \"I want thy master,\" answered I. Quoth she, \"He is\nsitting alone, mourning.\" \"Tell him,\" rejoined I, \"that his\nfriend so and so seeks to condole with him.\" She went in and\ntold him; and he said, \"Admit him.\" So she brought me in to\nhim, and I found him seated alone and his head bound [with the\nfillets of mourning]. \"May God amply requite thee!\" said I.\n\"This is a road all must perforce travel, and it behoves thee\nto take patience. But who is dead unto thee?\" \"One who was\ndearest and best beloved of the folk to me,\" answered he. Quoth\nI, \"Perhaps thy father?\" He replied, \"No;\" and I said, \"Thy\nmother?\" \"No,\" answered he. \"Thy brother?\" \"No.\" \"One of thy\nkindred?\" \"No.\" \"Then,\" asked I, \"what relation was the dead to\nthee?\" \"My mistress,\" answered he. Quoth I to myself, \"This is\nthe first sign of his lack of wit.\" Then I said to him, \"There\nare others than she and fairer;\" and he answered, \"I never saw\nher, that I might judge whether or no there be others fairer\nthan she.\" Quoth I to myself, \"This is another sign\" Then I\nsaid to him, \"And how couldst thou fall in love with one thou\nhast never seen?\" Quoth he, \"I was sitting one day at the\nwindow, when there passed by a man, singing the following\nverse:\n\nUmm Amri,[FN#136] God requite thee thy generosity! Give back my\n     heart, prithee, wherever it may be!\n\nWhen I heard this, I said to myself, 'Except this Umm Amri were\nwithout equal in the world, the poets had not celebrated her in\namorous verse.' So I fell in love with her; but, two days\nafter, the same man passed, singing the following verse:\n\nThe jackass with Umm Amri departed; but, alas, Umm Amri! She\n     returned not again, nor did the ass.\n\nThereupon I knew that she was dead and mourned for her. This\nwas three days ago, and I have been mourning ever since.\" So I\nleft him and went away, having assured myself of the feebleness\nof his wit.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                   THE FOOLISH SCHOOLMASTER\n\n\n\nA man of elegant culture once entered a school and sitting down\nby the master, entered into discourse with him and found him an\naccomplished theologian, poet, grammarian and lexicographer,\nintelligent, well bred and pleasant; whereat he wondered,\nsaying in himself, 'It cannot be that a man, who teaches\nchildren in a school, should have a perfect wit.' When he was\nabout to go away, the schoolmaster said to him, 'Thou art my\nguest to-night;' and he consented and accompanied him to his\nhouse, where he made much of him and set food before him. They\nate and drank and sat talking, till a third part of the night\nwas past, when the host spread his guest a bed and went up to\nhis harem. The other lay down and addressed himself to sleep,\nwhen, behold, there arose a great clamour in the harem. He\nasked what was to do, and they said, 'A terrible thing hath\nbefallen the sheikh, and he is at the last gasp.' 'Take me up\nto him,' said he. So they carried him to the schoolmaster, whom\nhe found lying insensible, with his blood streaming down. He\nsprinkled water on his face and when he revived, he said to\nhim, 'What has betided thee? When thou leftest me, thou west in\nall good cheer and sound of body.' 'O my brother,' answered the\nschoolmaster, 'after I left thee, I sat meditating on the works\nof God the Most High and said to myself, \"In every thing God\nhath created for man there is an use; for He (to whom be glory)\ncreated the hands to seize, the feet to walk, the eyes to see,\nthe ears to hear and the yard to do the deed of kind; and so on\nwith all the members of the body, except these two cullions;\nthere is no use in them.\" So I took a razor I had by me and cut\nthem off; and there befell me what thou seest.' So the guest\nleft him and went away, saving, 'He was in the right who said,\n\"No schoolmaster who teaches children can have a perfect wit,\nthough he know all sciences.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n               THE IGNORANT MAN WHO SET UP FOR A\n                         SCHOOLMASTER.\n\n\n\nThere was once, among the hangers-on of the collegiate mosque,\na man who knew not how to read and write and got his bread by\ngulling the folk. One day, he bethought him to open a school\nand teach children; so he got him tablets and written scrolls\nand hung them up in a [conspicuous] place. Then he enlarged his\nturban and sat down at the door of the school. The people, who\npassed by and saw his turban and the tablets and scrolls,\nthought he must be a very learned doctor; so they brought him\ntheir children; and he would say to this, 'Write,' and to that,\n'Read;' and thus they taught one another.\n\nOne day, as he sat, as of wont, at the door of the school, he\nsaw a woman coming up, with a letter in her hand, and said to\nhimself, 'This woman doubtless seeks me, that I may read her\nthe letter she has in her hand. How shall I do with her seeing\nI cannot read writing?' And he would fain have gone down and\nfled from her; but, before he could do this, she overtook him\nand said to him, 'Whither away?' Quoth he, 'I purpose to pray\nthe noontide-prayer and return.' 'Noon is yet distant,' said\nshe; 'so read me this letter.' He took the letter and turning\nit upside down, fell to looking at it, now shaking his head and\nanon knitting his eyebrows and showing concern. Now the letter\ncame from the woman's husband, who was absent; and when she saw\nthe schoolmaster do thus, she said, 'Doubtless my husband is\ndead, and this learned man is ashamed to tell me so.' So she\nsaid to him, 'O my lord, if he be dead, tell me.' But he shook\nhis head and held his peace. Then said she, 'Shall I tear my\nclothes?' 'Tear,' answered he. 'Shall I buffet my face?' asked\nshe; and he said, 'Buffet.' So she took the letter from his\nhand and returning home, fell a-weeping, she and her children.\n\nOne of her neighbours heard her weeping and asking what ailed\nher, was answered, 'She hath gotten a letter, telling her that\nher husband is dead.' Quoth the man, 'This is a lying saying;\nfor I had a letter from him but yesterday, advising me that he\nis in good health and case and will be with her after ten\ndays.' So he rose forthright and going in to her, said, 'Where\nis the letter thou hast received?' She brought it to him, and\nhe took it and read it; and it ran as follows, after the usual\nsalutations, 'I am well and in good health and case and will be\nwith thee after ten days. Meanwhile, I send thee a quilt and an\nextinguisher.'[FN#137] So she took the letter and returning\nwith it to the schoolmaster, said to him, 'What moved thee to\ndeal thus with me?' And she repeated to him what her neighbour\nhad told her of her husband's well-being and of his having sent\nher a quilt and an extinguisher. 'Thou art in the right,'\nanswered he. 'But excuse me, good woman; for I was, at the\ntime, troubled and absent-minded and seeing the extinguisher\nwrapped in the quilt, thought that he was dead and they had\nshrouded him.' The woman, not smoking the cheat, said, 'Thou\nart excused.' and taking the letter, went away.\n\n\n\n\n\n                THE KING AND THE VIRTUOUS WIFE\n\n\n\nA certain King once went forth in disguise, to look into the\naffairs of his subjects. Presently, he came to a great village\nand being athirst, stopped at the door of a house and asked for\nwater. There came out to him a fair woman, with a pitcher of\nwater, which she gave him, and he drank. When he looked at her,\nhe was ravished with her and required her of love. Now she knew\nhim; so she brought him into the house and making him sit down,\nbrought out a book and said to him, 'Look in this book, whilst\nI order my affair and return to thee.' So he looked into the\nbook, and behold, it treated of the Divine prohibition against\nadultery and of the punishments that God hath prepared for\nthose that do it. When he read this, his flesh quaked and he\nrepented to God the Most High: then he called the woman and\ngiving her the book, went away. Now her husband was absent and\nwhen he returned, she told him what had passed, whereat he was\nconfounded and said in himself, 'I fear lest the King's desire\nhave fallen upon her.' And he dared not have to do with her\nafter this.\n\nAfter awhile, the wife told her kinsfolk of her husband's\nconduct, and they complained of him to the King, saying, 'May\nGod advance the King! This man hired of us a piece of land, for\ntillage, and tilled it awhile; then left it fallow and tilled\nit not, neither forsook it, that we might let it to one who\nwould till it. Indeed, harm is come to the field, and we fear\nits corruption, for that land, if it be not tilled' spoileth.'\nQuoth the King to the man, 'What hinders thee from tilling thy\nland?' 'May God advance the King!' answered he. 'It came to my\nknowledge that a lion entered the field, wherefore I stood in\nawe of him and dared not approach it, seeing that I know I\ncannot cope with the lion, and I stand in fear of him.' The\nKing understood the parable and rejoined, saying, 'O fellow,\nthe lion trampled not thy land, and it is good for tillage; so\ndo thou till it and God prosper thee in it, for the lion hath\ndone it no hurt.' Then he bade give the man and his wife a\nhandsome present and sent them away.\n\n\n\n\n\n           ABDURREHMAN THE MOOR'S STORY OF THE ROC.\n\n\n\nThere was once a man of the people of Morocco, called\nAbdurrehman the Moor, and he was known, to boot, as the\nChinaman, for his long sojourn in Cathay. He had journeyed far\nand wide and traversed many seas and deserts and was wont to\nrelate wondrous tales of his travels. He was once cast upon an\nisland, where he abode a long while and returning thence to his\nnative country, brought with him the quill of the wing-feather\nof a young roe, whilst yet unhatched and in the egg; and this\nquill was big enough to hold a skinful of water, for it is said\nthat the length of the young roe's wing, when it comes forth of\nthe egg, is a thousand fathoms. The folk marvelled at this\nquill, when they saw it, and Abdurrehman related to them the\nfollowing adventure.\n\nHe was on a voyage in the China seas, with a company of\nmerchants, when they sighted a great island so they steered\nfor it and casting anchor before it, saw that it was large and\nspacious. The ship's people went ashore to get wood and water,\ntaking with them skins and ropes and axes, and presently espied\na great white gleaming dome, a hundred cubits high. So they\nmade towards it and drawing near, found that it was a roe's\negg and fell on it with axes and stones and sticks, till they\nuncovered the young bird and found it as it were a firm-set\nmountain. They went about to pluck out one of its wing-feathers,\nbut could not win to do so, save by helping one another, for\nall the feathers were not full grown; after which they took\nwhat they could carry of the young bird's flesh and cutting\nthe quill away from the feather-part, returned to the ship.\nThen they spread the canvas and putting out to sea, sailed\nwith a fair wind all that night, till the sun rose, when they\nsaw the old roc come flying after them, as he were a vast\ncloud, with a rock in his talons, like a great mountain, bigger\nthan the ship. As soon as he came over the vessel, he let fall\nthe rock upon it; but the ship, having great way on her,\nforewent the rock, which fell into the sea with a terrible\ncrash. So God decreed them safety and delivered them from\ndestruction; and they cooked the young bird's flesh and ate it.\nNow there were amongst them old grey bearded men; and when they\nawoke on the morrow, they found that their beards had turned\nblack, nor did any who had eaten of the young roc ever grow\ngrey. Some held the cause of the return of youth to them and\nthe ceasing of hoariness from them to be that they had heated\nthe pot with arrow-wood, whilst others would have it that it\ncame of eating the young roe's flesh; and this is indeed a\nwonder of wonders.\n\n\n\n\n\n              ADI BEN ZEID AND THE PRINCESS HIND.\n\n\n\nEn Numan ben el Mundhir, King of the Arabs [of Irak], had a\ndaughter named Hind, who was eleven years old and was the\nloveliest woman of her age and time. She went out one Easter,\nwhich is a feast-day of the Nazarenes,[FN#138] to the White\nChurch, to take the sacrament. Now that day came to El Hireh a\nyoung man called Adi ben Zeid,[FN#139] with presents from\nChosro\u00ebs,[FN#140] to En Numan, and he also went into the White\nChurch, to communicate. He was tall and well-favoured, with\nhandsome eyes and smooth cheeks, and had with him a company of\nhis people. Now there was with Hind a slave-girl named Mariyeh,\nwho was enamoured of Adi, but had not been able to win to him.\nSo, when she saw him in the church, she said to Hind, 'Look at\nyonder youth. By Allah, he is handsomer than all thou seest!'\n'And who is he?' asked Hind. 'Adi ben Zeid,' answered Mariyeh\nQuoth the princess, 'I fear lest he know me, if I draw near,\nto look on him closelier.' 'How should he know thee,' said\nMariyeh, 'when he has never seen thee?' So she drew near him\nand found him jesting with his companions; and indeed he\nsurpassed them all, not only in his beauty, but in the excellence\nof his speech and the eloquence of his tongue and the richness\nof his apparel. When the princess saw him, she was ravished with\nhim, her reason was confounded and her colour changed; and\nMariyeh, seeing her inclination to him, said to her, 'Speak to\nhim.' So she spoke to him and went away.\n\nWhen he saw her and heard her speech, he was captivated by her\nand his wit was dazed; his colour changed and his heart\nfluttered, so that his companions misdoubted of him, and he\nwhispered one of them to follow her and find out who she was.\nThe man followed her and returning to his master, informed him\nthat she was the princess Hind, daughter of En Numan. So Adi\nleft the church, knowing not whither he went, for stress of\nlove, and reciting the following verses:\n\nCompanions mine, yet one more favour I entreat: Address ye to\n     the ways once more your travelling feet.\nTurn me towards the lands, the lands where Hinda dwells; Then\n     go and her I love with tidings of me greet.\n\nThen he went to his lodging and lay that night, restless nor\ntasting sleep. On the morrow, Mariyeh accosted him, and he\nreceived her kindly, though before he would not hearken to her,\nand said to her, 'What is thy will?' Quoth she, 'I have a suit\nto thee.' 'Name it,' answered he; 'for, by Allah, thou shalt\nnot ask me aught, but I will give it thee!' So she told him\nthat she was in love with him, and her suit to him was that he\nwould grant her a lover's privacy; and he agreed to do her\nwill, on condition that she would serve him with Hind and make\nshift to bring them together. Then he took her into a vintner's\nshop, in one of the by-streets of Hireh, and lay with her;\nafter which she returned to Hind and said to her, 'Dost thou\nnot long to see Adi?' 'How can this be?' replied the princess.\n'Indeed my longing for him makes me restless, and no repose is\nleft me since yesterday, on his account.' Quoth Mariyeh, 'I\nwill appoint him to be in such a place, where thou canst look\non him from the palace.' 'Do what thou wilt,' replied Hind and\nagreed with her upon the place.\n\nSo Adi came, and the princess looked out upon him; and when she\nsaw him, she was like to fall down from the top of the palace\nand said to Mariyeh, 'Except thou bring him in to me this\nnight, I shall die.' So saying, she fell down in a swoon, and\nher serving-women lifted her up and bore her into the palace;\nwhilst Mariyeh hastened to En Numan and discovered the whole\nmatter to him, saying, 'Verily, she is mad for love of Adi; and\nexcept thou marry her to him, she will be put to shame and die\nof love for him.' The King bowed his head awhile in thought and\nexclaimed again and again, 'Verily, we are God's and to Him we\nreturn!' Then said he, 'Out on thee! How shall the marriage be\nbrought about, seeing it misliketh me to open the matter to\nhim?' 'He is yet more ardently in love and yet more desireful\nof her than she of him,' answered Mariyeh; 'and I will so order\nthe matter that he shall be unaware that his case is known to\nthee; but do not betray thyself, O King.'\n\nThem she went to Adi and said to him, 'Make a feast and bid the\nKing thereto; and when wine hath gotten the better of him, ask\nof him the hand of his daughter, for he will not refuse thee.'\nQuoth Adi, 'I fear lest this enrage him against me and be the\ncause of enmity between us.'\n\nBut she answered, 'I came not to thee, till I had settled the\nwhole matter with him.' Then she returned to En Numan and said\nto him, 'Seek of Adi that he entertain thee in his house.'\n'There is no harm in that,' replied the King and after three\ndays, besought Adi to give him and his lords the morning-meal\nin his house. The young man consented, and the King went to\nhim; and when the wine had taken effect on En Numan, Adi rose\nand sought of him his daughter in marriage. He consented and\nmarried them and brought her to him after three days; and they\nabode at En Numan's court, in all delight and solace of life,\nthree years, at the end of which time the King was wroth with\nAdi and slew him. Hind mourned for him with an exceeding grief\nand built her a convent without the city, whither she retired\nand devoted herself to religious exercises, weeping and\nbemoaning her husband, till she died. And her convent is extant\nto this day without El Hireh.\n\n\n\n\n\n           DIBIL EL KHUZA\u00cf WITH THE LADY AND MUSLIM\n                         BEN EL WELID.\n\n\n\n(Quoth Dibil el Khuza\u00ef[FN#141]), I was sitting one day at the\ngate of El Kerkh,[FN#142] when a lady came up to me, never saw\nI a handsomer or better shaped than she, walking with a swaying\ngait and ravishing, with her flexile grace, all who beheld her.\nWhen my eyes fell on her, I was captivated by her and my\nentrails trembled and meseemed my heart fled forth of my\nbreast; so I accosted her with the following verse:\n\nUnsealed are the springs of tears for mine eyes, heigho! And\n     sealed are the springs of sleep to my lids, for woe.\n\nShe turned her head and looking at me, made answer forthright\nwith the following:\n\nAnd surely, an ailing eye to have, for him Whom her looks\n     invite, is a little thing, I trow.\n\nI was astounded at the readiness of her reply and the sweetness\nof her speech and rejoined with this verse:\n\nAnd doth then the heart of my fair indeed incline To favour him\n     whose tears as a river flow?\n\nShe answered me, without hesitation, thus:\n\nIf thou desire us of love, betwixt us love Is a loan to be\n     returned, I'd have thee know.\n\nNever entered my ears sweeter than her speech nor ever saw I\nbrighter than her face: so I changed the rhyme and measure, to\ntry her, in my wonder at her speech, and repeated the following\nverse:\n\nWill destiny e'er gladden us with union and delight And one\n     desireful one at last with other one unite?\n\nShe smiled at this, (never saw I fairer than her mouth nor\nsweeter than her lips,) and answered me, without hesitation, as\nfollows:\n\nI prithee, what hath destiny to do betwixt us twain? Thou'rt\n     destiny: rejoice us, then, with union and delight.\n\nAt this, I sprang up and kissing her hands, said, \"I had not\nthought that Fortune would vouchsafe me such an opportunity. Do\nthou follow me, not of command or against thy will, but of thy\ngrace and favour to me.\" Then I went on and she after me.\n\nNow I had not, at that time, a lodging I deemed fit for the\nlike of her; Muslim ben El Welid[FN#143] was my fast friend,\nand he had a handsome house. So I made for his abode and\nknocked at the door, whereupon he came out, and I saluted him,\nsaying, \"It is for a time like this that friends are treasured\nup.\" \"With all my heart,\" answered he; \"enter.\" So we entered,\nI and the lady, but found money scarce with him. However, he\ngave me a handkerchief, saying, \"Carry it to the market and\nsell it and buy meat and what else thou needest.\" So I took the\nhandkerchief and hastening to the market, sold it and bought\nmeat and what else we required; but, when I returned, I found\nthat Muslim had retired, with the lady, to an underground\nchamber.[FN#144] When he heard me, he came out and said to me,\n\"God requite thee the kindness thou hast done me, O Abou\nAli,[FN#145] and reckon it of thy good deeds on the Day of\nResurrection!\" So saying, he took from me the meat and wine and\nshut the door in my face His words enraged me and I knew not\nwhat to do; but he stood behind the door, shaking for mirth;\nand when he saw me thus, he said to me, \"I conjure thee on my\nlife, O Abou Ali, tell me who it was composed this verse?\n\nI lay in the arms of the fair one all night, Whilst my friend\n     slept, clean-limbed, but polluted of spright.\"\n\nAt this, my rage redoubled, and I replied, \"He who wrote this\nother verse:\n\nOne, I wish him in's girdle a thousand of horns, Exceeding the\nidol Menaf[FN#146] in their height!\"\n\nThen I began to revile him and reproach him with the foulness\nof his conduct and his lack of honour; and he was silent. But,\nwhen I had finished, he smiled and said, \"Out on thee, O fool!\nThou hast entered my house and sold my handkerchief and spent\nmy money: so, with whom art thou wroth, O pimp?\" Then he left\nme and went away to her, whilst I said, \"By Allah, thou art\nright to call me a fool and a pimp!\" Then I left his door and\nwent away in sore concern, whereof I feel the trace in my heart\nto this day; and I never had my desire of her nor ever heard of\nher more.\n\n\n\n\n\n               ISAAC OF MOSUL AND THE MERCHANT.\n\n\n\n(Quoth Ishac ben Ibrahim el Mausili), One day, being weary of\nassiduous attendance upon the Khalif, I mounted my horse and\nwent forth, at break of day, having a mind to ride out and take\nmy pleasure in the open country, and I said to my servant, \"If\nthere come a messenger from the Khalif or another, say that I\nset out at daybreak, upon a pressing business, and that thou\nknowest not whither I am gone.\" So I rode forth alone and went\nround about the city, till the sun grew hot, when I halted in a\nstreet, known as El Herem, and stood my horse under the\nspacious jutting porch of one of the houses there, to shelter\nme from the glare of the sun.\n\nI had not stood long, before there came up a black slave,\nleading an ass with jewelled housings, on which sat a damsel,\nclad in the richest of clothes, richness can go no farther; and\nI saw that she was elegantly made, with languorous looks and\ngraceful carriage. I asked one of the passers-by who she was,\nand he said, \"She is a singer.\" And I fell in love with her at\nsight, so that I could scarce keep my seat on my horse's back.\nShe entered the house at whose gate I stood; and as I cast\nabout for a device to gain access to her, there came up two\ncomely young men, who sought admission, and the master of the\nhouse gave them leave to enter. So they alighted and entered,\nand I with them, they supposing that the master of the house\nhad invited me; and we sat awhile, till food was brought and we\nate. Then they set wine before us, and the damsel came out,\nwith a lute in her hand. She sang and we drank, till I rose to\ndo an occasion. During my absence, the host questioned the two\nothers of me, and they replied that they knew me not; whereupon\nquoth he, \"This fellow is a spunger, but he is well-bred and\npleasant; so entreat him fairly.\" Then I came back and sat down\nin my place, whilst the damsel sang the following verses to a\npleasing air:\n\nSay thou unto the she-gazelle, who yet is no gazelle, And the\n     wild heifer, languorous-eyed, who yet no heifer is,\n\"One, who in dalliance affects the male, no female is, And he\n     who is effeminate of step's no male, ywis.\"\n\nShe sang it excellent well, and the company drank and her song\npleased them. Then she sang various songs to rare tunes, and\namongst the rest one of mine, to the following words:\n\nThe pleasant girls have gone and left The homesteads empty and\n     bereft\nOf their sweet converse, after cheer, All void and ruined by\n     Time's theft.\n\nShe sang this even better than the first; then she sang other\nrare songs, old and new, and amongst them, another of mine,\nwith the following words:\n\nTo the loved one, who turneth in anger away And vrithdraweth\n     himself far apart from thee, say,\n\"The mischief thou wroughtest, thou wroughtest indeed, For all,\n     per-adventure, thou west but in play.\"\n\nI asked her to repeat the song, that I might correct it for\nher; whereupon one of the men turned to me and said, \"Never saw\nI a more brazen-faced parasite than thou. Art thou not content\nwith spunging, but thou must meddle, to boot? Verily, in thee\nis the saying made true, 'A parasite and a meddler.'\" I hung\ndown my head for shame and made him no answer, whilst his\ncompanion would have restrained him from me; but he would not\nbe restrained. Presently, they rose to pray, but I hung behind\na little and taking the lute, tuned it after a particular\nfashion and stood up to pray with the rest. When we had made an\nend of prayer, the same man fell again to flouting and reviling\nme and persisted in his churlishness, whilst I held my peace.\nThen the damsel took the lute and touching it, knew that it was\nother than as she had left it and said, \"Who hath touched my\nlute?\" Quoth they, \"None of us hath touched it.\" \"Nay, by\nAllah,\" rejoined she, \"some one hath touched it, and he a past\nmaster in the craft; for he hath ordered the strings and tuned\nthem after the fashion of one who is right skilled in the art.\"\nQuoth I, \"It was I tuned it.\" \"Then, God on thee,\" answered\nshe, \"take it and play on it!\" So I took it and playing a rare\nand difficult measure, that came nigh to deaden the live and\nraise the dead, sang thereto the following verses:\n\nI had a heart, wherewith of yore I lived: 'Twas seared with\n     fire and all consumed indeed.\nHer love, alack I was not vouchsafed to me; Unto the slave\n     'twas not of Heaven decreed.\nIf what I taste be passion's very food, Then all who love upon\n     its like must feed.\n\nWhen I had finished, there was not one of the company but\nsprang from his place and sat down before me,[FN#147] saying\n\"God on thee, O our lord, sing us another song.\" \"With all my\nheart,\" said I and playing another measure in masterly fashion,\nsang thereto the following:\n\nO thou whose heart, for fortune's blows, is all consumed and\n     sped, Sorrows with whom from every side have taken up\n     their stead,\nUnlawful unto her, my heart who pierces with her shafts, Is\n     that my blood which, breast-bones 'twixt and\n     vitals,[FN#148] she hath shed.\n'Twas plain, upon the parting day, that her resolve, our loves\n     To sunder, unto false suspect must be attributed.\nShe pours forth blood she had not shed, if passion had not\n     been. Will none my murderess ensue and wreak me on her\n     head?\n\nWhen I had made an end of this song, there was not one of them\nbut rose to his feet and threw himself to the ground, for\nexcess of delight. Then I cast the lute from my hand; but they\nsaid, \"Allah on thee, let us hear another song, so God increase\nthee of His bounty!\" \"O folk,\" replied I, \"I will sing you\nanother song and another and another and will tell you who I\nam. Know that I am Ishac ben Ibrahim el Mausili, and by Allah,\nI bear myself haughtily to the Khalif, when he seeks me. Ye\nhave today made me hear [abuse from] an unmannerly fellow such\nas I loathe; and by Allah, I will not speak a word nor sit with\nyou, till ye put yonder quarrelsome churl out from among you!\"\nQuoth the latter's companion to him, \"This is what I feared and\nwarned thee against.\" So they took him by the hand and put him\nout; and I took the lute and sang over again the songs of my\nfashion that the damsel had sung. Then I whispered the host\nthat she had taken my heart and that I had no patience to\nendure from her. Quoth he, \"Thou shalt have her and all that\npertains to her of clothes and jewels, on one condition.\" \"What\nis that?\" asked I. \"It is,\" answered he, \"that thou abide with\nme a month.\" \"It is well,\" rejoined I; \"I will do this.\" So I\nabode with him a whole month, whilst none knew where I was and\nthe Khalif sought me everywhere, but could come by no news of\nme; and at the end of this time, the merchant delivered to me\nthe damsel, together with all that pertained to her of things\nof price and an eunuch to attend her.\n\nI brought her to my lodging, feeling as I were lord of the\nwhole world, for stress of delight in her; then rode forthright\nto El Mamoun. When he saw me, he said, \"Out on thee, O Isaac,\nwhere hast thou been all this while?\" I acquainted him with the\nstory and he said, \"Bring me the man at once.\" So I told him\nwhere he dwelt, and he sent and fetched him and questioned him\nof the case; whereupon he repeated the story and the Khalif\nsaid to him, \"Thou art a man of a generous mind, and it is just\nthat thou be upheld in thy generosity.\" Then he ordered him a\nhundred thousand dirhems and said to me, \"O Isaac, bring me the\ndamsel.\" So I brought her to him, and she sang and delighted\nhim. He was greatly gladdened by her and ordered her fifty\nthousand dirhems, saying to me, \"I appoint her of service every\nThursday, when she must come and sing to me from behind the\ncurtain.\" So, by Allah, this ride of mine was a source of\nprofit both to me and to others.\n\n\n\n\n\n                 THE THREE UNFORTUNATE LOVERS.\n\n\n\n(Quoth El Utbi[FN#149]), I was sitting one day with a company\nof men of culture, telling stories of the folk, when the talk\nturned upon anecdotes of lovers and each of us said his say\nthereon. Now there was in our company an old man, who remained\nsilent, till we had all spoken and had no more to say, when he\nsaid, \"Shall I tell you a thing, the like of which you never\nheard?\" \"Yes,\" answered we; and he said, \"Know, then, that I\nhad a daughter, who loved a youth, but we knew it not. The\nyouth in question loved a singing-girl, who, in her turn,\nwas enamoured of my daughter. One day, I was present at an\nassembly, where were also the young man and the girl; when the\nlatter sang the following verses:\n\nTears are the token by which, for love, Abjection in lovers\n     still is shown,\nAnd more by token in one who finds No friend, to whom he may\n     make his moan.\n\n'By Allah, thou hast said well, O my lady!' exclaimed the\nyouth. 'Doss thou bid me die?' 'Yes,' answered the girl from\nbehind the curtain, 'if thou be in love.' So he laid his head\non a cushion and closed his eyes; and when the cup came round\nto him, we shook him and found that he was dead. Therewith we\nall flocked to him, and our joy was troubled and we grieved and\nbroke up forthright. When I came home, my people taxed me with\nreturning before the appointed time, and I told them what had\nbefallen the youth, thinking to surprise them. My daughter\nheard my words and rising, went into another chamber, whither I\nfollowed her and found her lying, with her head on a cushion,\nas I had told of the young man. I shook her and behold, she\nwas dead. So we laid her out and set forth next morning with\nher funeral, whilst the friends of the young man carried him\nout, likewise, to bury him. As we were on the way to the\nburial-place, we met a third funeral and enquiring whose it\nwas, were told that it was that of the singing-girl, who,\nhearing of my daughter's death, had done even as she and was\ndead. So we buried them all three on one day, and this is the\nrarest story that ever was heard of lovers.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n                 THE LOVERS OF THE BENOU TAI.\n\n\n\nQuoth a man of the Benou Temim (cited by Casim ben Adi), I went\nout one day in search of a stray beast and coming to the waters\nof the Benou Tai, saw two companies of people, near one\nanother, and those of each company were disputing among\nthemselves. So I watched them and observed, in one of the\ncompanies, a young man, wasted with sickness, as he were a\nworn-out water-skin. As I looked on him, he repeated the\nfollowing verses:\n\nWhat ails the fair that she returneth not to me? Is't\n     grudgingness in her or inhumanity?\nI sickened, and my folk to visit me came all. Why 'mongst the\n     visitors wast thou then not to see?\nHadst thou been sick, I would have hastened to thy side; Nor\n     menaces nor threats had hindered me from thee.\nI miss thee midst the rest, and desolate am I: Thy loss, my\n     heart's abode, is grievous unto me.\n\nA damsel in the other company heard his words and hastened\ntowards him. Her people followed her, but she repelled them\nwith blows. Then the youth caught sight of her and ran towards\nher, whilst his people ran after him and laid hold of him.\nHowever, he struggled, till he freed himself from them, and she\nin like manner loosed herself; and they ran to each other and\nmeeting between the two parties, embraced and fell down dead.\n\nThereupon there came out an old man from one of the tents and\nstood over them, weeping sore and exclaiming, \"Verily, we are\nGod's and to Him we return!\" Then, \"May God the Most High have\nmercy on you both!\" said he. \"By Allah, though you were not\nunited in your lives, I will at least unite you after death.\"\nAnd he bade lay them out. So they washed them and shrouded them\nin one shroud and buried them in one grave, after they had\nprayed over them; nor were there men nor women in the two\nparties but I saw weeping over them and buffeting their faces.\nThen I questioned the old man of them, and he said, \"She was my\ndaughter and he my brother's son; and love brought them to this\npass.\" \"May God amend thee!\" exclaimed I. \"But why didst thou\nnot marry them to one another?\" Quoth he, \"I feared reproach\nand dishonour; and now I am fallen upon both.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n                        THE MAD LOVER.\n\n\n\n(Quoth Aboulabbas el Muberred[FN#150]), I set out one day with\na company to El Berid on an occasion, and coming to the\nmonastery of Heraclius,[FN#151] we alighted in its shade.\nPresently a man came out to us and said, \"There are madmen in\nthe monastery, and amongst them one who speaketh wisdom; if ye\nsaw him, ye would marvel at his speech.\" So we arose all and\nwent into the monastery, where we saw a man seated on a leather\nmat in one of the cells, with bare head and eyes fixed upon the\nwall. We saluted him, and he returned our greeting, without\nlooking at us; and one said to us, \"Repeat some verses to him;\nfor, when he hears verses, he speaks.\" So I repeated the\nfollowing verses:\n\nO best of all the race whom Eve gave birth unto, Except for\n     thee the world were neither sweet nor bright:\nThou'rt he, whose face if God unveil to any man, Eternity is\n     his; his head shall ne'er grow white.[FN#152]\n\nWhen he heard this, he turned towards us and repeated these\nlines:\n\nGod indeed knows that I am sore afflicted: I suffer so, I\n     cannot tell the whole.\nI have two souls; one in this place is dwelling; Another\n     country holds my second soul.\nMeseems the absent one is like the present And wearies under\n     the same weight of dole.\n\nQuoth he, \"Have I said well or ill?\" \"Thou hast said well and\nexcellent well,\" replied we. Then he put out his hand and took\na stone, that was by him; whereupon we fled from him, thinking\nhe would throw it at us; but he fell to beating his breast\ntherewith violently and said to us, \"Fear not, but draw near\nand hear somewhat from me and receive it from me.\" So we came\nback, and he repeated the following verses:\n\nWhen they made their beasts of burden kneel as day drew nigh\n     and nigher, Then they mounted and the camels bore away my\n     heart's desire,--\nWhen my eyes perceived my loved one through the crannied\n     prison-wall, Then I cried, with streaming eyelids and a\n     heart for love a-fire,\n\"Turn thou leader of the camels, let me bid my love farewell!\"\n     For her absence and estrangement, life and hope in me\n     expire.\nStill I kept my troth and failed not from her love; ah, would I\n     knew What she did with that our troth-plight, if she kept\n     her faith entire!\n\nThen he looked at me and said, \"Dost thou know what she did?\"\n\"Yes,\" answered I, \"she is dead; may God the Most High have\nmercy on her!\" At this his face changed and he sprang to his\nfeet and cried out, \"How knowest thou she is dead?\" \"Were she\nalive,\" answered I, \"she had not left thee thus.\" \"By Allah,\nthou art right,\" said he, \"and I care not to live after her.\"\nThen his nerves quivered and he fell on his face; and we ran up\nto him and shook him and found him dead, the mercy of God be on\nhim! At this we marvelled and mourned sore for him and laid him\nout and buried him. When I returned to Baghdad and went in to\nthe Khalif El Mutawekkil, he saw the trace of tears on my face\nand said to me, \"What is this?\" So I told him what had passed,\nand it was grievous to him and he said, \"What moved thee to\ndeal thus with him? By Allah, if I thought thou didst this with\nintent, I would punish thee therefor!\" And he mourned for him\nthe rest of the day.\n\n\n\n\n\n                    THE APPLES OF PARADISE.\n\n\n\n(Quoth Abou Bekr Mohammed ibn el Ambari[FN#153]), I once left\nAmbar, on a journey to Ammouriyeh, in the land of the Greeks,\n[FN#154], and alighted midway at the monastery of El Anwar,\n[FN#155], in a village near Ammouriyeh, where there came out\nto me the prior of the monastery and superior of the monks,\nAbdulmesih[FN#156] by name, and brought me into the monastery.\nThere I found forty monks, who entertained me that night\nwith the most liberal hospitality, and I saw among them such\nabounding piety and diligence in devotion as I never beheld the\nlike of in any others. On the morrow, I took leave of them and\nwent on to Ammouriyeh, where I did my business and returned to\nAmbar [without again visiting the monastery].\n\nNext year it befell that I made the pilgrimage to Mecca, and as\nI was compassing the Holy House, behold, I saw Abdulmesih the\nmonk also making the circuit of the Kaabeh, and with him five\nof his fellows, the monks. When I was certified that it was\nindeed he, I accosted him, saying, \"Art thou not Abdulmesih er\nRahib?\"[FN#157] \"Nay,\" answered he; \"I am Abdallah er Raghib.\"\n[FN#158] Therewith I fell to kissing his hoary hairs and weeping;\nthen, taking him by the hand, I led him aside into a corner of\nthe sanctuary and said to him, \"Tell me the manner of thy\nconversion to Islam.\" \"It was a wonder of wonders,\" answered\nhe; \"and befell thus. Know that, not long after thy visit to\nus, a company of Muslim devotees came to the village, in which\nis our monastery, and sent a youth to buy them food. He saw,\nin the market, a Christian damsel selling bread, who was of\nthe fairest of women, and became then and there so passionately\nenamoured of her, that his senses failed him and he fell on his\nface in a swoon. When he revived, he returned to his companions\nand told them what had happened, saying, 'Go ye about your\nbusiness; I may not go with you.' They blamed him and exhorted\nhim, but he paid no heed to them; so they left him and went on,\nwhilst he entered the village and seated himself at the door\nof the woman's shop. She asked him what he wanted, and he told\nher that he was in love with her, whereupon she turned from\nhim; but he abode in his place three days, without tasting\nfood, with his eyes fixed on her face.\n\nWhen she saw that he departed not from her, she went to her\npeople and acquainted them with her case, and they set the boys\nof the village on him, who pelted him with stones and bruised\nhis ribs and broke his head; but, for all this, he would not\nbudge. Then the people of the village took counsel together to\nkill him; but one of them came to me and told me of his\ncondition, and I went out to him and found him lying prostrate\non the ground. So I wiped the blood from his face and carried\nhim to the convent, where I dressed his wounds, and he abode\nwith me fourteen days. But, as soon as he could walk, he left\nthe convent and returned to the door of the woman's shop, where\nhe sat gazing on her as before. When she saw him, she came out\nto him and said, 'By Allah, thou movest me to pity! If thou\nwilt enter my faith, I will marry thee.' 'God forbid,' answered\nhe, 'that I should put off the faith of the Unity and enter\nthat of Plurality!'[FN#159] Quoth she, 'Come in with me to my\nhouse and take thy will of me and go thy ways in peace.' 'Not\nso,' answered he, 'I will not barter the pious service of\ntwelve years for the lust of a moment.' 'Then depart from me\nforthright,' said she; and he rejoined, 'My heart will not\nsuffer me to do that;' whereupon she turned her face from him.\nPresently the boys found him out and began to throw stones\nat him; and he fell on his face, saying, 'Verily, God is my\nkeeper, who sent down the Book and who protecteth the righteous!'\n[FN#160] At this juncture, I sallied forth and driving away\nthe boys, lifted his head from the ground and heard him say,\n'O my God, unite me with her in Paradise!' Then I took him in\nmy arms, to carry him to the monastery; but he died, before\nI could reach it, and I dug him a grave without the village\nand buried him there.\n\nIn the middle of that night, the people of the village heard\nthe damsel give a great cry, and she in her bed; so they\nflocked to her and questioned her of her case. Quoth she, 'As I\nslept, the Muslim [who ye wot of] came in to me and taking me\nby the hand, carried me to the gate of Paradise; but the keeper\ndenied me entrance, saying, \"It is forbidden to unbelievers.\"\nSo I embraced Islam at his hands and entering with him, beheld\ntherein palaces and trees, such as I cannot describe to you.\nMoreover, he brought me to a pavilion of jewels and said to me,\n\"This is my pavilion and thine, nor will I enter it except with\nthee; but, after five nights, thou shalt be with me therein, if\nit be the will of God the Most High.\" Then, putting his hand to\na tree that grew at the door of the pavilion, he plucked\ntherefrom two apples and gave them to me, saying, \"Eat this and\nkeep the other, that the monks may see it.\" So I ate one of\nthem and never tasted I aught sweeter than it. Then he took my\nhand and carried me back to my house; and when I awoke, I found\nthe taste of the apple in my mouth and the other in my hand.'\nSo saying, she brought out the apple, and it shone in the\ndarkness of the night, as it were a sparkling star. So they\ncarried her to the monastery, where she repeated to us her\nvision and showed us the apple; never saw we its like among all\nthe fruits of the world. Then I took a knife and cut the apple\ninto as many pieces as we were folk in the company; and never\nknew we aught more delicious than its taste nor sweeter than\nits scent; but we said, 'Haply this was a devil that appeared\nto her, to seduce her from her faith.' Then her people took her\nand went away; but she abstained from eating and drinking till\nthe fifth night, when she rose from her bed and going forth the\nvillage to the grave of the young Muslim, threw herself upon it\nand died.\n\nHer people knew not what was come of her; but, on the morrow,\nthere came to the village two Muslim elders, clad in hair-\ncloth, and with them two women in like garb, and said, 'O\npeople of the village, with you is a woman of the friends of\nGod,[FN#161] who died a Muslim, and we will take charge of her,\ninstead of you.' So the damsel's family sought her and found\nher dead on the young Muslim's grave; and they said, 'This our\nsister died in our faith, and we will take charge of her.' 'Not\nso,' rejoined the two old men; 'she died a Muslim and we claim\nher.' And the dispute waxed hot between them, till one of the\nMuslims said, 'Be this the test of her faith. Let the forty\nmonks of the monastery come all and [essay to] lift her from\nthe grave. If they succeed, then she died a Nazarene; if not,\none of us shall come and lift her up, and if she yield to him,\nshe died a Muslim.' The villagers agreed to this and fetched\nthe forty monks, who heartened each other and came to her, to\nlift her, but could not. Then we tied a great rope about her\nmiddle and tugged at it with our might; but the rope broke in\nsunder, and she stirred nor; and the villagers came and joined\ntheir endeavour to ours, but could not move her from her place.\nAt last, when all our devices failed, we said to one of the two\nold Muslims, 'Come thou and lift her.' So he went up to the\ngrave and covering her with his mantle, said, 'In the name of\nGod the Compassionate, the Merciful, and of the Faith of the\nApostle of God, on whom be peace and salvation!' Then he lifted\nher and taking her in his bosom, betook himself with her to a\ncave hard by, where they laid her, and the two women came and\nwashed her and shrouded her. Then the two elders bore her to\nthe young Muslim's grave and prayed over her and buried her by\nhis side and went their way.\n\nNow we were witness of all this; and when we were alone with\none another, we said, 'Of a verity, the Truth is most worthy to\nbe followed;[FN#162] and indeed it hath been publicly manifested\nto us, nor is it possible to have a clearer proof of the truth\nof Islam than that we have seen this day with our eyes.' So I\nand all the monks embraced Islam and on like wise did the people\nof the village; and we sent to the people of Mesopotamia for a\ndoctor of the law, to instruct us in the ordinances of Islam and\nthe canons of the Faith. They sent us a pious man, who taught us\nthe rites of devotion and the tenets of the faith and the\nservice of God; and we are now in great good case. To God be\nthe praise and the thanks!\"\n\n\n\n\n\n           THE LOVES OF ABOU ISA AND CURRET EL AIN.\n\n\n\n(Quoth Amr ben Mesaadeh[FN#163]), Abou Isa, son or Er Reshid\nand brother to El Mamoun, was enamoured of a girl called Curret\nel Ain, belonging to Ali ben Hisham,[FN#164] and she also loved\nhim; but he concealed his passion, complaining of it to none\nneither discovering his secret to any, of his pride and\nmagnanimity; and he had used his utmost endeavour to buy her of\nher lord, but in vain. At last, when his patience failed him\nand his passion was sore on him and he was at his wits' end\nconcerning her affair, he went in, one day of state, to El\nMamoun, after the folk had retired, and said to him, \"O\nCommander of the Faithful, if thou wilt this day make trial of\nthy governors,[FN#165] by visiting them unawares, thou wilt the\nmen of worth from those that lack of it and note each one's\n[due] place, after the measure of his faculties.\" (But he\npurposed, in saying this, to win to sit with Curret el Ain in\nher lord's house.) El Mamoun approved his proposal and bade\nmake ready a barge, called the Flyer, in which he embarked,\nwith his brother and a party of his chief officers. The first\nhouse he visited was that of Hemid et Tawil of Tous, whom he\nfound seated on a mat and before him singers and players, with\nlutes and hautboys and other instruments of music in their\nhands. El Mamoun sat with him awhile, and presently he set\nbefore him dishes of nothing but flesh-meat, with no birds\namong them. The Khalif would not taste thereof and Abou Isa\nsaid to him, \"O Commander of the Faithful, we have taken the\nowner of this place unawares, and he knew not of thy coming;\nbut now let us go to another place, that is prepared and fitted\nfor thee.\"\n\nSo the Khalif arose and betook himself, with his brother and\nhis suite, to the abode of Ali ben Hisham, who, on hearing of\ntheir approach, came out and received them after the goodliest\nfashion, and kissed the earth before El Mamoun. Then he brought\nthem into his palace and opened to them a saloon, than which\nnever saw eyes a goodlier. Its floors and walls and columns\nwere of vari-coloured marble, adorned with Greek paintings: it\nwas spread with Indian matting, on which were carpets and\ndivans of Bassora make, fitted to the length and breadth of the\nroom. The Khalif sat awhile, examining the house and its roof\nand walls, then said, \"Give us to eat.\" So they brought him\nforthwith nigh upon a hundred dishes of fowls, besides other\nbirds and brewises and fricassees and marinades. When he had\neaten, he said, \"Give us to drink, O Ali;\" and the latter set\nbefore him raisin-wine, boiled with fruits and spices, in\nvessels of gold and silver and crystal, served by boys like\nmoons, clad in garments of Alexandrian cloth of gold and\nbearing on their breasts flagons of crystal, full of rose-water\nmingled with musk. El Mamoun marvelled exceedingly at all this\nand said, \"Harkye, Aboulhusn!\"[FN#166] Whereupon Ali sprang to\nthe carpet [on which the Khalif was seated] and kissing it,\nsaid, \"At thy service, O Commander of the Faithful!\" and stood\nbefore him. Quoth El Mamoun, \"Let us hear some pleasant songs.\"\n\"I hear and obey, O Commander of the Faithful,\" replied Ali and\nsaid to one of his servants, \"Fetch the singing-women.\"\n\nSo he went out and returned in a moment, followed by ten\neunuchs, bearing ten golden stools, which they set down; and\nthese in their turn were followed by ten damsels, as they were\nshining full moons or flowerful gardens, clad in black brocade,\nwith crowns of gold on their heads. They sat down on the stools\nand sang various songs. Then El Mamoun looked at one of them\nand captivated by her elegance and the beauty of her aspect,\nsaid to her, \"What is thy name, O damsel?\" \"My name is Sejahi,\nO Commander of the Faithful,\" answered she; and he said, \"Sing\nto us, O Sejahi!\" So she took the lute and playing a lively\nmeasure, sang the following verses:\n\nRight stealthily, for fearfulness, I fare, the weakling's gait,\n     Who sees unto the watering-place two lion-whelps draw\n     near,\nWith cloak, instead of sword, begirt and bosom love-distraught\n     And heart for eyes of enemies and spies fulfilled of fear,\nTill in to one at last I come, a loveling delicate, Like to a\n     desert antelope, that's lost its younglings dear.\n\n\"Well done, O damsel!\" said the Khalif. \"Whose is this song?\"\n\"The words are by Amr ben Madi Kerib er Zubeidi,\"[FN#167]\nanswered she, \"and the air is Mabid's.\"[FN#168] Then the Khalif\nand Ali and Abou Isa drank and the damsels went away and were\nsucceeded by other ten, clad in flowered silk of Yemen,\nbrocaded with gold, who sat down on the chairs and sang various\nsongs. The Khalif looked at one of them, who was like a wild\ncow of the desert, and said to her, \"What is thy name, O\ndamsel?\" \"My name is Zebiyeh, O Commander of the Faithful,\"\nanswered she. \"Sing to us, O Zebiyeh,\" said he; so she warbled\nsome roulades and sang the following verses:\n\nHouris, noble ladies, that reck not of disquiet, Like antelopes\n     of Mecca, forbidden to be slain;\nOf their soft speech, they're taken for courtezans; but Islam\n     Still makes them from unseemliness and lewdness to\n     refrain.\n\nWhen she had finished, \"Bravo!\" cried the Khalif. \"Whose is\nthis song?\" \"The words are by Jerir,\"[FN#169] answered she,\n\"and the air by Suraij.\" Then the Khalif and his company drank,\nwhilst the girls went away and there came yet another ten, as\nthey were rubies, bareheaded and clad in red brocade, gold\ninwoven and broidered with pearls and jewels, who sat down on\nthe stools and sang various airs. The Khalif looked at one of\nthem, who was like the sun of the day, and said to her, \"What\nis thy name?\" \"O Commander of the Faithful,\" answered she, \"my\nname is Fatin.\" \"Sing to us, O Fatin,\" quoth he. So she played\na lively measure and sang the following verses:\n\nVouchsafe me of thy grace; 'tis time to yield consent: Enough\n     have I endured of absence and lament.\nThou'rt he whose face unites all charms, on whose account My\n     patience have I lost, for very languishment.\nI've spent my life for love of thee; ah, would to God I might\n     receive return for that which I have spent!\n\n\"Bravo, O Fatin!\" exclaimed the Khalif, when she had finished.\n\"Whose song is that?\" \"The words are by Adi ben Zeid,\" answered\nshe, \"and the tune is an old one.\" Then they drank, whilst the\ndamsels retired and were succeeded by other ten, as they were\nsparkling stars, clad in flowered silk, embroidered with gold,\nand girt with jewelled zones. They sat down and sang various\nairs; and the Khalif said to one of them, who was like a\nwillow-wand, \"What is thy name, O damsel!\" \"My name is Reshaa,\nO Commander of the Faithful,\" answered she. \"Sing to us, O\nReshaa,\" said he. So she played a lively measure and sang the\nfollowing verses:\n\nThere's a houri healing passion [with her kiss], Like a sapling\n     or a wild gazelle at gaze.\nWine I quaff unto the vision of her cheeks[FN#170] And dispute\n     the goblet with her, till she sways.\nThen she lies and sleeps the night long in my arms, And I say,\n     \"This is the wish of all my days.\"\n\n\"Well done, O damsel!\" said the Khalif. \"More.\" So she rose and\nkissing the ground before him, sang the following verse:\n\nShe came out to gaze on the bridal at leisure, In a tunic with\n     ambergris smeared, worth a treasure.\n\nThe Khalif was much pleased with this verse, which when Reshaa\nsaw, she repeated it several times. Then said El Mamoun, \"Bring\nup the barge,\" being minded to embark and depart: but Ali said\nto him, \"O Commander of the Faithful, I have a slave-girl, whom\nI bought for ten thousand dinars; she hath taken my whole\nheart, and I would fain show her to the Commander of the\nFaithful. If she please him and he will accept of her, she is\nhis: and if not, let him hear something from her.\" \"Bring her\nto me,\" said the Khalif; and there came forth a damsel, as she\nwere a willow-wand, with heart-seducing eyes and eyebrows like\na double bow. On her head she wore a crown of red gold, set\nwith pearls and jewels, under which was a fillet, wrought in\nletters of chrysolite with the following words:\n\nBehold, a Jinniyeh this is; and Jinn hath she also, I trow, Who\n     teach her men's hearts to transfix, by means of a\n     stringless bow.\n\nShe walked, with a gait like that of a fleeing gazelle, till\nshe came to a chair, on which she seated herself. The Khalif\nmarvelled at her beauty and grace; but when Abou Isa saw her,\nhis colour changed and he was in ill case. \"O Abou Isa,\" said\nthe Khalif, \"what ails thee, to change colour thus?\" \"O\nCommander of the Faithful,\" answered he, \"it is because of pain\nthat seizes me bytimes.\" \"Hast thou known yonder damsel before\nto-day?\" asked El Mamoun. \"Yes, O Commander of the Faithful,\"\nanswered he. \"Can the moon be hidden?\" Then said El Mamoun to\nher, \"What is thy name, O damsel?\" \"My name is Curret el Ain, O\nCommander of the Faithful,\" replied she; and he said, \"Sing to\nus, O Curret el Ain.\" So she sang the following verses:\n\nThe loved ones passed from thee in middle midnight's shade And\n     fared forth in the dawn, with the pilgrims' cavalcade.\nThe tents of pride they pitched round their pavilions And\n     veiled themselves about with hangings of brocade.\n\nQuoth the Khalif, \"Bravo, O Curret el Ain! Whose song is that?\"\n\"The words are by Dibil el Khuzai,\" answered she, \"and the air\nby Zourzour es Seghir.\" Abou Isa looked at her and his tears\nchoked him; so that the company marvelled at him. Then she\nturned to El Mamoun and said to him, \"O Commander of the\nFaithful, wilt thou give me leave to change the words?\" \"Sing\nwhat thou wilt,\" answered the Khalif. So she played a lively\nmeasure and sang the following verses:\n\nIf thou please me and he please thee in public, look thou hide\n     And keep in secret straiter watch o'er love, lest ill\n     betide.\nAnd disregard and put away the tales of slanderers; For seldom\n     seeks the sland'rer aught but lovers to divide.\nThey say that when a lover's near, he wearies of his love And\n     that by absence passion's cured. 'Tis false; for I have\n     tried\nBoth remedies, but am not cured of that which is with me,\n     Withal that nearness easier is than distance to abide.\nYet nearness of abode, forsooth, may nowise profit thee, An If\n     the grace of him thou lov'st be unto thee denied.\n\nWhen she finished, Abou Isa said, \"O Commander of the Faithful,\nwe will be at peace, though we be dishonoured. Dost thou give\nme leave to reply to her?\" \"Yes,\" answered the Khalif. \"Say\nwhat thou wilt to her.\" So he swallowed his tears and sang\nthese verses:\n\nI held my peace nor said, \"I am in love;\" and eke The passion\n     that I felt even from my heart hid I:\nAnd natheless, if my eyes do manifest my love, It is because\n     they are the shining moon anigh.\n\nThen Curret el Ain took the lute and rejoined with the\nfollowing:\n\nIf what thou dost pretend were very truth, Thou woulst not with\n     mere wishing rest content,\nNor couldst endure to live without a girl, In charms and beauty\n     wonder excellent.\nBut there is nought in that thou dost avouch, Save only idle\n     talk and compliment.\n\nWhen Abou Isa heard this, he fell a-weeping and lamenting and\ndiscovered the trouble and anguish of his soul. Then he raised\nhis eyes to her and sighing, repeated the following:\n\nUnder my wede there is a wasted body And in my soul an all-\n     absorbing thought.\nI have a heart, whose suffering is eternal, and eyes with tears\n     like torrents ever fraught.\nWhen a wise man meets me, he rebukes me, Chiding the love that\n     thou in me hath wrought.\nLord, I've no strength all this my dole to suffer; Prithee,\n     come Death or quick relief be brought!\n\nWhen he had ended, Ali ben Hisham sprang up and kissing his\nfeet, said, \"O my lord, God hath heard thy prayer and answered\nthy supplication, and consenteth to thy taking her with all her\ngear, so the Commander of the Faithful have no mind to her.\"\n\"Had we a mind to her,\" answered the Khalif, \"we would prefer\nAbou Isa before ourselves and help him to his desire.\" So\nsaying, he rose and embarking, went away, whilst Abou Isa\ntarried for Curret al Ain, whom he took and carried to his own\nhouse, with a breast dilated for gladness. See then the\ngenerosity of Ali ben Hisham.\n\n\n\n\n\n              EL AMIN BEN ER RESHID AND HIS UNCLE\n                     IBRAHIM BEN EL MEHDI.\n\n\n\nEl Amin,[FN#171] son of Er Reshid, once entered the house of\nhis uncle Ibrahim ben el Mehdi and saw there a slave-girl\nplaying upon the lute.  She was one of the fairest of women,\nand his heart inclined to her.  Ibrahim, seeing how it was with\nhim, sent the girl to him, with rich apparel and precious\njewels.  When he saw her, he thought that his uncle had lain\nwith her; so he was loath to have to do with her, because of\nthis, and sent her back to Ibrahim, accepting the present that\ncame with her.  Ibrahim learnt the reason of this from one of\nEl Amin's servants; so he took a shift of flowered silk and let\nwork upon his skirt, in letters of gold, the following lines:\n\nBy Him to whom all fronts do bow, of that which is Beneath her\n     skirt, I swear, I'm ignorant outright;\nNor have I had in aught to meddle with her mouth, Except it\n     were by way of hearing and of sight.\n\nThen he clad her in the shift and giving her a lute sent her\nonce more to his nephew.  When she came into the latter's\npresence, she kissed the earth before him and tuning the lute,\nsang thereto the following verses:\n\nBy returning the gift, thou showest what's hid in thy breast,\n     And thine aversion to me is made manifest.\nAs thou bear malice for aught that hath been,--forgive The\n     past, for the Khalifate's sake, and let it rest.\n\nWhen she had made an end of her song, El Amin looked at her and\nreading that which was wrought upon her skirt, could not\ncontrol himself, but drew near unto her and kissed her and\nappointed her a separate lodging in his palace.  Moreover, he\nthanked his uncle for this and bestowed on him the government\nof Er Re\u00ef.[FN#172]\n\n\n\n\n\n             EL FETH BEN KHACAN AND THE KHALIF EL\n                          MUTAWEKKIL.\n\n\n\nThe Khalid El Mutawekkil[FN#173] was once again taking\nmedicine, and folk sent him all manner of presents and\nrarities. Amongst others, El Feth ben Khacan[FN#174] sent him\na virgin slave, high-bosomed, of the fairest of women of her\ntime, and with her a vase of crystal, containing red wine, and\na goblet of red gold, whereon were graven in black the following\nverses:\n\nWhen th' Imam's made an end of taking medicine And health and\n     strength ensue to him thereon, in fine,\nThere's no medicament befits him but to drink, From out this\n     cup, a draught of this decocted wine.\nAnd break the seal[FN#175] reserved to him, for this, indeed,\n     Right salutary is, hard after medicine.\n\nNow the physician Youhenna[FN#176] was with the Khalif, when\nthe damsel entered; and when he read the above verses, he\nsmiled and said, 'By Allah, O Commander of the Faithful, Feth\nis better versed than I in the art of medicine: so let not\nthe Commander of the Faithful gainsay his prescription.'\nAccordingly, the Khalif followed El Feth's prescription and was\nmade whole by the blessing of God.\n\n\n\n\n\n              THE MAN'S DISPUTE WITH THE LEARNED\n            WOMAN OF THE RELATIVE EXCELLENCE OF THE\n                     MALE AND THE FEMALE.\n\n\n\n(Quoth a certain man of learning) I never saw a woman sharper-\nwitted, more intelligent, better furnished in learning, more\nexcellent of faculties or more pleasant of ingredients than\na female preacher of the people of Baghdad, by name Sitt el\nMeshayikh.[FN#177] It chanced that she came to the city of\nHemah in the year [of the Hegira] 561[FN#178] and there\ndelivered salutary exhortations to the folk from the pulpits.\nNow there used to visit her house a number of students of\ndivinity and [other] persons of learning and culture, who\nwould argue with her upon questions of theology and discuss\ncontroversial points with her. I went to her one day, with a\nfriend of mine, a man of education; and when we had taken our\nseats, she set before us a dish of fruit and seated herself\nbehind a curtain. Now she had a [young] brother, a handsome\nyouth, who stood by us, to serve us.\n\nWhen we had eaten, we fell to disputing upon points of divinity,\nand I propounded to her a theological question, bearing upon a\ndifference between the Imams.[FN#179] She proceeded to speak in\nanswer, whilst I listened; but my friend fell the while to\nlooking upon her brother's face and considering his charms,\nwithout paying any heed to what she said. Now she was watching\nhim from behind the curtain; so, when she had made an end of\nher exposition, she turned to him and said, \"Meseems thou art\nof those that give men the preference over women!\" \"Assuredly,\"\nanswered he. \"And why so?\" asked she. \"Because,\" replied he,\n\"God hath preferred the male over the female; and I love that\nwhich excels and mislike that which is excelled.\" She laughed\nand said, \"Wilt thou deal fairly with me in argument, if I\nargue the matter with thee?\" \"I will,\" answered he. Then said\nshe, \"What is the evidence of the superiority of the male to\nthe female?\" \"It is of two kinds,\" answered he, \"that which\nis founded on authority and that which is founded on reason.\nThe authoritative part derives from the Koran and the Sunneh\n[Traditions of the Prophet]. As for the former, quoth God the\nMost High, 'Men stand above women, in that God hath given\nthese the preference over those;'[FN#180] and again, 'If\nthere be not two men, then [call] one man and two women;'\n[FN#181] and again, when treating of the law of inheritance,\n'[If there be brothers and sisters,] let each male have the\nlike of the portion of two females.'[FN#182] Thus God, blessed\nand exalted be He, hath in these places preferred the male over\nthe female and teaches that a woman is as the half of a man,\nfor that he is worthier than she. As for the Sunneh, is it not\nreported of the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve) that he\nappointed the blood-wit for a woman to be half that of a man?\nAs for the evidence of reason, the male is the agent and the\nfemale the patient.\"\n\n\"Thou hast said well, O my lord,\" rejoined she; \"but, by Allah,\nthou hast proved my contention with thine own lips and hast\nadvanced arguments that tell against thee, and not for thee.\nThus: God (blessed and exalted be He) preferred the male above\nthe female, solely because of the quality of masculinity; and\nin this, there is no difference between us. Now this quality\n[of masculinity] is common to the child, the boy, the youth,\nthe adult and the graybeard; nor is there any distinction\nbetween them in this. Since, then, the superior excellence of\nman enures to him solely by virtue of the quality of masculinity,\nit behoves that thy heart incline to the graybeard and thy soul\ndelight in him, equally with the boy, seeing that there is no\ndistinction between them, in point of masculinity. But the\ndifference between thee and me turns upon the qualities that\nare sought as constituting excellence of intercourse and\ndelight of usance; and thou hast adduced no proof of the\nsuperiority of the male over the female in this.\"\n\n\"O my lady,\" answered he, \"knowest thou not that which is\nproper to the boy of symmetry of shape and rosy cheeks and\npleasant smile and sweetness of speech? Boys are, in these\nrespects, superior to women; and the proof of this is what is\nreported of the Prophet, that he said, 'Stay not thy gaze upon\nthe beardless boys, for in them is the similitude[FN#183] of\nthe black-eyed girls of Paradise.' Nor indeed is the superiority\nof the boy over the girl hidden to any, and how well saith Abou\nNuwas:\n\nThe least of his virtues it is that thou'rt free From\n     uncleanness with him nor with child can he be.\n\nAnd what another poet says:\n\nQuoth th' Iman Abou Nuwas, past-master sure was he In every\n     canon of debauch and jolly knavery,\n\"O ye that love the downy cheeks of younglings, take your fill\n     Of a delight, in Paradise that will not founden be.\"\n\nSo if one enlarge in praise of a girl and wish to enhance her\nvalue by the mention of her charms, he likens her to a boy,\nbecause of the illustrious qualities that belong to the latter,\neven as saith the poet:\n\nBoylike of buttocks, to and fro, in amorous dalliance, She\n     sways as sway the nodding canes that in the north wind\n     dance.\n\nIf boys, then, were not superior to girls, why should the\nlatter be likened to them? And know also, may God the Most High\npreserve thee, that a boy is easy to be led, adapting himself\nto the wish, pleasant of commerce and manners, inclining to\nassent rather than difference, especially when the down on his\nface creeps lightly and the hair darkens on his lips and the\nvermilion of early youth runs in his cheeks, so that he is like\nthe full moon; and how goodly is the saying of Abou Temmam:\n[FN#184]\n\n\"The whiskers on his cheek appear;\" the slanderers said to me;\n     Quoth I, \"That's none of his defect; so give me no more\n     prate.\"\nWhat time he came of age to bear buttocks that here and there\n     Pulled him and over beads of pearl his lips' hair darkened\n     late\nAnd eke the rose a solemn oath, full fast and binding, swore\n     Its ruddy marvels from his cheek should never separate,\nI with my eyelids spoke to him, without the need of speech, And\n     for reply thereto was what his eyebrows answered straight.\nHis goodliness still goodlier is than that thou knewst of yore,\n     And the hair guardeth him from those his charms would\n     violate.\nBrighter and sweeter are his charms, now on his cheek the down\n     Shows and the hair upon his lips grows dark and delicate;\nAnd those who chide me for the love of him, when they take up\n     Their parable of him and me, say evermore, \"His mate.\"\n\nAnd quoth El Heriri[FN#185] and saith well:\n\nMy censors say, \"What is this love and doting upon him? Seest\n     not the hair upon his cheeks that sprouts? Where is thy\n     wit?\"\nQuoth I, \"By Allah, an ye chide at me, I rede you note The\n     exposition of the truth that in his eyes is writ.\nBut for the blackness of the down, that veils his chin and\n     cheeks, Upon the brightness of his face no mortal gaze\n     might sit.\nA man who sojourns in a land, wherein no herbage is, Whenas the\n     very Spring arrives, shall he depart from it?\"\n\nAnd quoth another:\n\n\"He is consoled,\" say the censors of me; but, by heaven, they\n     lie! For solace and comfort come hardly to those for\n     longing that sigh.\nWhen the rose of his cheek stood blooming alone, I was not\n     consoled; So how should I now find solace, that basil has\n     sprung thereby?\n\nAnd again:\n\nA slender one, whose glances and the down upon his cheeks Each\n     other, in the slaying of folk, abet and aid.\nA sabre of narcissus[FN#186] withal, he sheddeth blood, The\n     hangers[FN#187] of its scabbard of very myrtle made.\n\nAnd again:\n\nNot with his wine I'm drunken, but with his tresses bright,\n     That make all creatures drunken, yea, all beneath the sky.\nEach of his charms doth envy the others; ay, and each To be the\n     down so silky upon his cheek doth sigh.\n\nThese are the excellences of the boy, that women do not\npossess, and these suffice and more to give boys the preference\nin grace and glory over women.\"\n\n\"God give thee health!\" cried she. \"Verily, thou hast imposed\nthe discussion upon thyself; and thou hast spoken and hast not\nstinted and hast adduced these arguments, in support of thy\ncontention. But now is the truth made manifest;[FN#188] so\nswerve thou not from the path thereof; and if thou be not\ncontent with a summary of proof, I will set it out to thee in\ndetail. God on thee, where is the boy beside the girl and who\nshall liken the kid to the wild cow? The girl is soft of\nspeech, fair of shape, like a stalk of sweet basil, with teeth\nlike chamomile-petals and hair like halters. Her cheeks are\nlike blood-red anemones and her face like an apple; she hath\nlips like wine and breasts like double pomegranates and a shape\nflexile as a willow-wand. Her body is rounded and well-formed:\nshe hath a nose like the point of a shining sword and a\nforehead brilliant with whiteness and joined eyebrows and black\nand melting eyes. If she speak, fresh pearls are scattered from\nher mouth and all hearts are ravished by the daintiness of her\ncharms; when she smiles, thou wouldst think the moon shone out\nfrom between her lips and when she gazes, swords flash from her\neyes. In her all beauties have their term, and she is the\ncentre of attraction of traveller and stay-at-home. She hath\ntwo red lips softer than cream and sweeter of taste than honey,\nand a bosom, as it were a way between two hills, wherein are a\npair of breasts like globes of ivory; likewise, a smooth belly,\nsoft of flanks as palm-flowers[FN#189] and creased with folds\nand dimples that overlap one another, and luxuriant thighs,\nlike columns of pearl, and buttocks, that beat together like\nseas of crystal or mountains of light, and two slender feet and\nhands like ingot of virgin gold. So, O wretched fellow, where\nare mortal men besides the Jinn? Knowest thou not that mighty\nkings and captains and noble princes still submit themselves\nhumbly to women and depend on them for delight? Verily, they\n[women] say, 'We rule over [all] necks and captivate [all]\nhearts.' How many a rich man have they not made poor, how many\na powerful one have they not humbled and how many a noble have\nthey not reduced to servitude! Indeed, they seduce the learned\nand bring the pious to shame and make poor the rich and plunge\nthe favoured of fortune into misery. Yet, for all this, the\nwise but redouble in love and honour of them, nor do they count\nthis oppression or dishonour. How many a man for them hath\ntransgressed against his Lord and called down on himself the\nwrath of his father and mother! And all this because of the\npreponderance of the love of them over hearts. Knowest thou\nnot, O wretched fellow, that for them are palaces built and\nslave-girls bought, and over them curtains are let down, that\nfor them do tears flow and for them armies levied and pleasure-\nhouses raised up and riches gathered and heads smitten off? And\nindeed he spoke sooth who said, 'The world is a commentary\n[FN#190] upon women.'\n\nAs for thy citation from the Holy Traditions, it is an argument\nagainst thee and not for thee; for the Prophet (whom God bless\nand preserve) compares boys to the houris of Paradise. Now,\nwithout doubt, the subject of comparison is more worthy than\nthe object compared with it; so, except women be the worthier\nand the goodlier, wherefore should other than they be likened\nto them? As for thy saying that girls are likened to boys, it\nis not so, but the contrary: boys are likened to girls; for\nfolk say, 'Yonder boy is like a girl.' As for that thou quotest\nfrom the poets, the verses in question were the product of an\nunnatural complexion in this respect; and as for the confirmed\nsodomists and debauchees, that sin against religion, whom God\nhath condemned in His Holy Book, wherein He denounceth their\nfilthy practices, saying, 'Do ye betake you to males from the\nfour corners of the world and forsake that which your Lord hath\ncreated for you of your wives? Nay, but ye are a froward\nfolk.'[FN#191] These it is that liken girls to boys, of their\nexceeding profligacy and frowardness and inclination to follow\nthe devil and their own lusts, so that they say, 'She is apt\nfor two men;' and these are all wanderers from the path of\nright. Quoth their chief Abou Nuwas:\n\nA slender one, boyish of waist and of wit, For wencher as well\n     as for sodomite fit.\n\nAs for what thou sayest of a boy's whiskers and moustaches and\nhow they add to his beauty and grace, by Allah, thou wanderest\nfrom the right path and sayest that which is other than the\ntruth; for whiskers change the charms of the comely into\nugliness; even as saith the poet:\n\nThe whiskers, that sprout on the cheek of the wight, His lovers\n     avenge, if he 've done them unright.\nI see not on 's face what is like unto smoke, Except that his\n     curls are as coals to the sight.\nIf the most of his paper[FN#192] thus blackened be, where Is\n     there room, deemest thou, for the pen to indite?\nIf any prefer him another above, 'Tis ignorance makes them thus\n     turn from the light.\n\nGlory be to God\", continued she, \"how is it hidden from thee\nthat the perfection of delight is in women and that abiding\npleasure is not to be found but with them? Seeing that God\n(blessed and exalted be He) hath promised His prophets and\nsaints black-eyed damsels in Paradise and hath appointed them\nfor a recompense of their pious works: and had God the Most\nHigh known that the supreme delight was in the possession of\nother than women, He had rewarded them therewith and promised\nit to them. And quoth he whom God bless and preserve, 'The\nthings in which I most delight of [the things of] your world\nare three: women and perfume and the solace of my eyes in\nprayer.' Verily, God hath appointed boys to serve His prophets\nand saints in Paradise, because Paradise is the abode of\ndelight and pleasance, which could not be complete without the\nservice of boys; but, as to the use of them for aught but\nservice, it is sin and corruption. How well saith the poet:\n\nMen's turning unto boys is very frowardness; Who noble[FN#193]\nwomen loves is noble[FN#194] none the less.\nWhat difference 'twixt the lewd and him whose bedfellow A houri\nis, for looks a very sorceress.\nHe rises from her couch and she hath given him scent; He\nperfumes all the house therewith and each recess.\nNo boy, indeed, is worth to be compared with her: Shall aloes\nevened be with what not filthiness?\"\n\nThen said she, \"O folk, ye have made me overpass the bounds of\nmodesty and the province of free-born women and indulge in idle\ntalk and freedoms of speech, that beseem not people of learning.\nBut the breasts of the noble are the tombs of secrets, and\nconversations of this kind are in confidence. Moreover, actions\nare according to intents, and I ask pardon of God for myself\nand you and all Muslims, seeing that He is forgiving and\nmerciful.\"\n\nWith this she held her peace and thereafter would answer us of\nnought; so we went our way, rejoicing in that we had profited\nby her discourses and sorrowing to part from her.\n\n\n\n\n\n               ABOU SUWEID AND THE HANDSOME OLD\n                            WOMAN.\n\n\n\n(Quoth Abou Suweid), I entered a garden one day, I and a\ncompany of my friends, to buy somewhat of fruit; and we saw, in\na corner of the place, an old woman, who was bright of face,\nbut her hair was white, and she was combing it with a comb of\nivory. We stopped before her, but she paid no heed to us\nneither veiled her face So I said to her' \"O old woman, wert\nthou to dye thy hair black, thou wouldst be handsomer than a\ngirl. What hinders thee from this?\" She raised her head and\nlooking at me with great eyes, recited the following verses:\n\nThat which the years had dyed, I dyed erewhen but, sooth to\n     tell, My dye endureth not, whilst that of Time's\n     perdurable\nClad in the raiment of my youth and beauty, of old days,\n     Proudly I walked, and back and front, men had with me to\n     mell\n\n\"By Allah,\" cried I, \"bravo to thee for an old woman! How\nsincere art thou in thy yearning remembrance of sin and how\nfalse in thy presence of repentance from for bidden things!\"\n\n\n\n\n\n          THE AMIR ALI BEN TAHIR AND THE GIRL MOUNIS.\n\n\n\nThere was once shown to the Amir Ali ben Mohammed ben Abdallah\nben Tahir[FN#195] a slave-girl, who was excellently handsome\nand well-bred and an accomplished poetess; and he asked her of\nher name. 'May God advance the Amir,' replied she, 'my name is\nMounis.' Now he knew this before; so he bowed his head awhile,\nthen raising his eyes to her, recited the following verse:\n\nWhat dost thou say of one, on whom sickness and pain have\n     wrought, For love and longing after thee, till he is grown\n     distraught?\n\n'God exalt the Amir!' answered she and recited this verse in\nreply:\n\nAn if we saw a lover true, on whom the pangs of love Were sore,\n     we would to him vouchsafe the favours that he sought.\n\nHer reply pleased him; so he bought her for threescore and ten\nthousand dirhems and begat on her Obeidallah teen Mohammed,\nafter police-magistrate [at Baghdad].\n\n\n\n\n\n             THE WOMAN WHO HAD A BOY AND THE OTHER\n                    WHO HAD A MAN TO LOVER.\n\n\n\n(Quoth Abou el Aina\u00e4[FN#196]), There were in our street two\nwomen, one of whom had to lover a man and the other a beardless\nboy, and they foregathered one night on the roof of a house,\nnot knowing that I was within hearing. Quoth one to the other,\n\"O my sister, how canst thou brook the harshness of thy lover's\nbeard, as it falls on thy breast, when he kisses thee, and his\nmoustaches rub thy cheek and lips?\" \"Silly wench that thou\nart,\" replied the other, \"what adorns the tree but its leaves\nand the cucumber but its bloom? Didst ever see aught uglier\nthan a scald-head, with his beard plucked out? Knowest thou not\nthat the beard is to men as the side-locks to women; and what\nis the difference between the chin and the cheek? Knowest thou\nnot that God (blessed and exalted be He) hath created an angel\nin heaven, who saith, 'Glory be to Him who adorneth men with\nbeards and women with tresses?' So, were not the beard even as\nthe tresses in comeliness, it had not been coupled with them, O\nsilly woman! How shall I underlie a boy, who will be hasty with\nme in emission and forestall me in flaccescence, and leave a\nman, who, when he takes breath, clips close and when he enters,\ngoes leisurely, and when he has done, repeats, and when he\npushes, pushes hard, and as often as he withdraws, returns?\"\nThe other was edified by her speech and said, \"I forswear my\nlover by the Lord of the Kaabeh!\"\n\n\n\n\n\n                 THE HAUNTED HOUSE IN BAGHDAD.\n\n\n\nThere lived once, in the city of Cairo, a merchant by name\nHassan the Jeweller of Baghdad, who had great store of wealth\nin money and jewels and lands and houses beyond count. God\nhad blessed him with a son of perfect beauty and elegance,\nrosy-cheeked, fair of face and well-shaped, whom he named Ali\nof Cairo and taught the Koran and science and elocution and the\nother branches of polite letters, till he became proficient\nin all manner of knowledge and was under his father's hand\nin trade. After awhile, Hassan fell sick and his sickness\nincreased upon him, till he made sure of death and calling his\nson to him, said, 'O my son, verily this world passeth away;\nbut the next endureth for ever. Every soul must taste of death;\nand now, O my son, my last hour is at hand and I desire to lay\non thee an injunction, which if thou observe, thou shalt abide\nin peace and prosperity, till thou meet God the Most High; but\nif thou follow it not, there shall befall thee weariness galore\nand thou wilt repent of having transgressed my admonitions.' 'O\nmy father,' replied Ali, 'how shall I do other than hearken to\nthee and do after thine enjoinder, seeing that I am bounden by\nthe law of God to obey thee and give ear to thy word?' 'O my\nson,' rejoined his father, 'I leave thee lands and houses\nand goods and wealth past count; wert thou each day to spend\nthereof five hundred dinars, thou wouldst miss nought of it.\nBut, O my son, look that thou live in the fear of God and\nfollow His Chosen One (whom may He bless and preserve) in\nwhat he is reported to have enjoined and forbidden in his\ntraditions. Be thou assiduous in good works and the practice of\nbeneficence and in consorting with men of worth and piety and\nlearning; and look that thou have a care for the poor and needy\nand shun avarice and meanness and the converse of the wicked or\nthose of doubtful character. Look kindly upon thy servants and\nfamily, and also upon thy wife, for she is of the daughters\nof the notables and is with child by thee; belike God will\nvouchsafe thee virtuous offspring by her.' And he went on to\nexhort him thus, weeping and saying, 'O my son, I beseech God\nthe Bountiful, the Lord of the Empyrean, to deliver thee from\nall straits that may betide thee and grant thee His speedy\nrelief!'\n\nHis son wept sore and said, 'O my father, I am consumed by thy\nwords, for they are as the words of one that saith farewell.'\n'Yes, O my son,' replied the merchant, 'I am ware of my\ncondition: forget thou not my enjoinder.' Then he fell to\nrepeating the professions of the Faith and reciting [verses of\nthe Koran], until the appointed hour arrived, when he said,\n'Draw near unto me, O my son.' So Ali drew near and he kissed\nhim; then he sighed and his soul departed his body and he went\nto the mercy of God the Most High. Therewith great grief fell\nupon Ali; the noise of lamentation arose in his house and his\nfather's friends flocked to him. Then he betook himself to\npreparing him for burial and made him a splendid funeral. They\nbore him to the place of prayer and prayed over him, then to\nthe cemetery, where they buried him and recited over him what\nwas fitting of the Koran; after which they returned to the\nhouse and condoled with the dead man's son and went each his\nown way. Moreover, Ali prayed the Friday prayers for his father\nand let make recitations of the whole Koran for the [accustomed]\nspace of forty days, during which time he abode in the house\nand went not forth, save to the place of prayer; and every\nFriday he visited his father's tomb.\n\nHe ceased not from his prayers and devotions, till, at last,\nhis fellows of the sons of the merchants came in to him one\nday and saluting him, said, 'How long wilt thou keep up this\nthy mourning and neglect thy business and the company of\nthy friends? Verily, this is a fashion that will bring thee\nweariness, and thy body will suffer greatly for it.' Now,\nwhen they came in to him, Iblis the accursed was with them,\nprompting them, and they went on to press him to accompany them\nto the bazaar, whilst Iblis incited him to consent to them,\ntill he yielded and went forth the house with them, that the\nwill of God (blessed and exalted be He) might be fulfilled.\n'Mount thy mule,' quoth they, 'and ride with us to such a\ngarden, that we may divert us there and that thy grief and\nmelancholy may depart from thee.' So he mounted and taking his\nslave, went with them to the garden in question, where they\nentered, and one of them went and making ready the morning-\nmeal, brought it to them there. So they ate and made merry and\nsat, talking, till the end of the day, when they mounted and\nreturned each to his own lodging, where they passed the night.\nOn the morrow, they said to Ali, 'Come with us.' 'Whither?'\nasked he, and they answered, 'To such a garden; for it is\nfiner than the first and more pleasant.' So he went with them\nto the garden, and one of them, going away, made ready the\nmorning-meal and brought it to them, together with strong wine;\nand Ali said, 'What is this?' Quoth they, 'This is what dispels\ngrief and unveils gladness.' And they went on to commend it to\nhim, till they prevailed upon him and he drank with them. Then\nthey sat, drinking and talking, till the end of the day, when\neach returned home.\n\nAs for Ali, he was giddy with wine and went in, in this plight,\nto his wife, who said to him, 'What ails thee?' Quoth he, 'We\nwere making merry to-day, when one of my companions brought us\nliquor; so my friends drank and I with them, and this giddiness\ncame upon me.' 'O my lord,' said she, 'hast thou forgotten thy\nfathers injunction and done that from which he forbade thee, in\nconsorting with lewd folk?' 'These are of the sons of the\nmerchants,' answered he; 'they are no lewd folk, only lovers of\nmirth and good cheer.' And he continued to lead this life with\nhis friends, day after day, going from place to place and\nfeasting and drinking with them, till they said to him, 'Our\nturns are ended, and now it is thy turn.' 'Welcome and fair\nwelcome!' answered he; so, on the morrow, he made ready all\nthat the case called for of meat and drink, double what they\nhad provided, and taking cooks and tent-pitchers and coffee-\nmakers, repaired with the others to Er Rauzeh[FN#197] and\nthe Nilometer, where they abode a whole month, eating and\ndrinking and hearing music and making merry. At the end of the\nmonth, Ali found that he had spent a great sum of money; but\nSatan the Accursed deluded him and said to him, 'Though thou\nshouldst spend every day a like sum, yet would not thy wealth\nfail.' So he took no account of expense and continued this way\nof life three years, whilst his wife remonstrated with him and\nreminded him of his father's injunctions; but he hearkened not\nto her, till he had spent all his ready money, when he fell to\nselling his jewels and spending their price, till they were all\ngone. Then he sold his houses and lands and farms and gardens,\none after another, till they were all gone and he had nothing\nleft but the house in which he lived. So he tore out the marble\nand wood-work and sold it and spent of its price, till he had\nmade an end of this also, when he bethought himself and finding\nthat he had nothing left to spend, sold the house itself and\nspent the purchase-money.\n\nPresently, the man who had bought the house came to him and\nsaid, 'Look thyself out a lodging, for I have need of my\nhouse.' So he bethought himself and considering that he had\nnothing requiring a house, except his wife, who had borne him a\nson and daughter,--for he had not a servant left,--hired a room\nin one of the mean lodging houses and there took up his abode,\nafter having lived in honour and luxury, with many servants and\nmuch wealth, and came to lack of one day's bread. Quoth his\nwife, 'I warned thee of this and exhorted thee to obey thy\nfather's injunction, and thou wouldst not hearken to me; but\nthere is no power and no virtue save in God the Most High, the\nSupreme! Whence shall the little ones eat? Arise, go round to\nthy friends, the sons of the merchants: it may be they will\ngive thee somewhat on which we may live this day.' So he went\nthe round of his friends, one by one; but they all hid their\nfaces from him and gave him nothing but injurious and revolting\nwords; and he returned to his wife and said to her, 'They have\ngiven me nothing.' Thereupon she went out to beg of her\nneighbours wherewithal to sustain themselves and came to a\nwoman, whom she had known in former days. When she came in to\nher and she saw her plight, she rose and receiving her kindly,\nwept and said, 'What hath befallen thee?' So she told her of\nher husband's conduct, and the other said, 'Welcome and fair\nwelcome! Whatever thou needest, seek it of me, without price.'\n'May God abundantly requite thee!' answered she. Then her\nfriend gave her as much victual as would suffice herself and\nher family a whole month, and she took it and returned to her\nlodging. When her husband saw her, he wept and said, 'Whence\nhadst thou that?' 'I got it of such a woman,' answered she;\n'for, when I told her what had befallen us, she failed me not\nin aught, but said, \"Seek of me all thou needest.\"' 'Since thou\nhast this,' rejoined her husband, 'I will betake myself to a\nplace I have in my mind; peradventure God the Most High will\nbring us relief.'\n\nSo saying, he took leave of her and kissing the children, went\nout, not knowing whither he should go, and walked on till he\ncame to Boulac,[FN#198] where he saw a ship about to sail for\nDamietta. Here he met a man, between whom and his father there\nhad been friendship; and he saluted him and said to him,\n'Whither away?' 'To Damietta,' replied Ali; 'I have friends\nthere, whom I would fain enquire after and visit and return.'\nThe man took him home and entreated him hospitably, then,\nfurnishing him with victual [for the voyage] and giving him\nsomewhat of money, embarked him on board the vessel bound for\nDamietta. When they reached that place, Ali landed, not knowing\nwhere to go, but, as he was walking along, a merchant saw him\nand had pity on him. So he carried him to his house, where he\nabode awhile, till he said in himself, 'How long shall this\nsojourning in other folks' houses last?' Then he left the\nmerchant's house and went down to the quay, where he saw a ship\nready to sail for Syria. His host provided him with victual and\nembarked him in the ship; and it set sail and arrived, in due\ncourse, at the coast of Syria, where he landed and journeyed\ntill he entered Damascus. As he walked about the town, a\nbenevolent man saw him and took him to his house, where he\nabode awhile, till, one day, going abroad, he saw a caravan\nabout to start for Baghdad and bethought himself to journey\nthither with it. So he returned to his host and taking leave of\nhim, set out with the caravan.\n\nNow God (blessed and exalted be He) inclined to him the heart\nof one of the merchants, so that he took him with him, and Ali\nate and drank with him, till they came within one day's journey\nof Baghdad, where a company of highwaymen fell upon the caravan\nand took all they had. But few of the merchants escaped and\nthese made each for a [separate] place of refuge. As for Ali,\nhe made for Baghdad, where he arrived at sundown, as the\ngatekeepers were about to shut the gates, and said to them\n'Let me in with you.' So they admitted him and asked him\nwhence he came and whither he was bound. 'I am a man from\nthe city of Cairo,' replied he, 'and have with me mules laden\nwith merchandise and slaves and servants. I forewent them, to\nlook me out a place wherein to deposit my goods; but as I rode\nalong on my mule, there fell upon me a company of highway robbers,\nwho took my mule and gear; nor did I escape from them but at\nthe last gasp.' The warders entreated him hospitably and bade\nhim welcome, saying, 'Abide with us this night, and in the\nmorning we will look thee out a place befitting thee.' Then he\nsought in his pocket and finding a dinar remaining of those he\nhad gotten of the merchant at Boulac, gave it to one of the\ngatekeepers, saying, 'Take this and change it and bring us\nsomething to eat.' The man took it and went to the market,\nwhere he changed it and brought Ali bread and cooked meat. So\nhe ate, he and the gatekeepers, and he lay the night with them.\n\nOn the morrow, one of the warders carried him to a merchant of\nthe town, to whom he told the same story, and he believed him,\ndeeming that he was a merchant and had with him loads of\nmerchandise. So he took him up into his shop and entreated him\nwith honour. Moreover, he sent to his house for a splendid suit\nof his own apparel for him and carried him to the bath. So,\n[quoth Ali], I went with him to the bath, and when we came out,\nhe brought me to his house, where he caused set the morning-meal\nbefore us, and we ate and made merry.\n\nThen said he to one of his slaves, \"Harkye, Mesoud, take this\nthy lord and show him the two houses in such a place. Whichever\npleases him of them, give him the key of it and come back.\" So\nI went with the slave, till we came to a place where stood\nthree houses, side by side, new and shut up. He opened the\nfirst and the second, and I looked at them; after which he said\nto me, \"Of which of them shall I give thee the key?\" \"To whom\ndoes yon large house belong?\" asked I. \"To us,\" answered he;\nand I said, \"Open it, that I may view it.\" Quoth he, \"Thou hast\nno call to it.\" \"Wherefore?\" asked I; and he, \"Because it is\nhaunted, and none lodges there but in the morning he is a dead\nman; nor do we use to open the door, to take out the corpse,\nbut mount the roof of one of the other two houses and take it\nup thence. For this reason, my master has abandoned the house\nand says, 'I will never again give it to any one.'\" Quoth I,\n\"Open it, that I may view it;\" and I said in myself, \"This is\nwhat I seek. I will pass the night there and in the morning be\na dead man and be at peace from this miserable plight of mine.\"\nSo he opened it and I entered and found it a splendid house,\nwithout its like; and I said to the slave, \"I will have none\nother than this house; give me the key.\" But he answered, \"I\nwill not give thee this key till I consult my master,\" and\ngoing to the latter, said to him, \"The Egyptian merchant saith,\n'I will lodge in none but the great house.'\"\n\nWhen the merchant heard this, he rose and coming to Ali, said\nto him, 'O my lord, thou hast no need of this house.' But he\nreplied, 'I will lodge in none other than this; for I care\nnothing for this saying.'[FN#199] 'Then,' said the other,\n'write me an acknowledgment that, if aught happen to thee, I am\nnot responsible.' 'So be it,' answered Ali; whereupon the\nmerchant fetched an assessor from the Cadi's court and taking\nof him the prescribed acknowledgment, delivered him the key,\nwhich he took and entered the house. The merchant sent him\nbedding by a slave, who spread it for him on the bench behind\nthe door and went away. Presently Ali went into the inner court\nand seeing there a well with a bucket, let down the latter and\ndrew water, with which he made the ablution and prayed the\nobligatory prayers. Then he sat awhile, till the merchant's\nslave brought him the evening meal from his master's house,\ntogether with a lamp, a candle and candlestick, a basin and\newer and a gugglet; after which he left him and returned home.\nAli lighted the candle and supped at his ease and prayed the\nevening prayer; after which he said to himself, 'Let us take\nthe bed and go upstairs and sleep there, rather than here.' So\nhe took the bed and carried it upstairs, where he found a\nsplendid saloon, with gilded ceiling and walls and floor of\nvariegated marble. He spread his bed there and sitting down,\nbegan to recite somewhat of the sublime Koran, when suddenly he\nheard one calling to him and saying, 'O Ali, O son of Hassan,\nshall I send thee down the gold?' And he answered, 'Send away.'\n\nHardly had he spoken, when pieces of gold began to rain down on\nhim, like [pebbles from] a mangonel, nor stinted till the\nsaloon was full. Then said the voice, 'Set me free, that I may\ngo my way; for I have made an end of my service and have\ndelivered unto thee that which was committed to me for thee.'\nQuoth Ali, 'I adjure thee by the Most High God to tell me the\nhistory of this gold.' 'This is a treasure that was enchanted\nto thee of old time,' replied the voice; 'and to every one, who\nentered the house, we used to come and say to him, \"O Ali, O\nson of Hassan, shall we send down the gold?\" Whereat he would\nbe affrighted and cry out, and we would come down to him and\nbreak his neck and go away. But, when thou camest and we\naccosted thee by thy name and that of thy father, saying,\n\"Shall we send thee down the gold?\" and thou madest answer,\nsaying, \"Send away,\" we knew thee for the owner of it and sent\nit down. Moreover, there is yet another treasure for thee in\nthe land of Yemen, whither thou wouldst do well to journey and\nfetch it. And now I would have thee set me free, that I may go\nmy way.' 'By Allah,' said Ali, 'I will not set thee free, till\nthou bring me hither the treasure from Yemen!' Quoth the voice,\n'If I bring it thee, wilt thou release me and the servant of\nthe other treasure also?' 'Yes,' replied Ali; and the genie\nsaid, 'Swear to me.' So he swore to him, and he was about to go\naway, when Ali said to him, 'I have one other service to ask of\nthee.' 'What is that?' asked the genie. Quoth Ali, 'I have a\nwife and children at Cairo, in such a place; thou must fetch\nthem to me, at their ease and without hurt.' 'I will bring them\nto thee in state,' answered the genie, 'in a litter, with a\ntrain of slaves and servants, together with the treasure from\nYemen, if it be the will of God the Most High.' Then he took of\nhim leave of absence for three days, at the end of which time\nall this should be with him, and departed.\n\nWhen it was morning, Ali went round about the saloon, seeking a\nplace wherein to lay the gold, and saw in the wall of the dais\na marble panel, with a knob in it. So he pressed the knob and\nthe panel slid back and discovered a door, which he opened and\nentering, found a great closet, full of linen bags. So he took\nout the bags and fell to filling them with gold and replacing\nthem in the closet, till he had transported thither the whole\ntreasure, whereupon he shut the door and pressing the knob, the\npanel returned to its place. Then he went down and seated\nhimself on the bench behind the door. Presently, there came a\nknock at the door; so he opened it and found the merchant's\nslave, who, seeing him, returned in haste to his master with\nthe good tidings, saying, 'O my lord, the merchant, who is\nlodged in the haunted house, is alive and well and sits on the\nbench behind the door.' When the merchant heard this, he rose\njoyfully and went to the house, taking breakfast with him; and\nwhen he saw Ali, he embraced him and kissed him between the\neyes, saying, 'How hath God dealt with thee?' 'Right well,'\nanswered Ali. 'I slept upstairs in the marble saloon.' Quoth\nthe merchant, 'Did aught come to thee or didst thou see aught?'\n'No,' replied Ali; 'I recited some little of the Koran and\nslept till morning, when I arose and after making the ablution\nand praying, came down and seated myself on the bench behind\nthe door.' 'Praised be God for safety!' exclaimed the merchant,\nthen left him and presently sent him slaves and servants, black\nand white and male and female, with furniture. They swept the\nhouse from top to bottom and furnished it magnificently, after\nwhich three black slaves and the like number of white and four\nslave-girls abode with him, to serve him, and the rest returned\nto their master's house. When the merchants heard of him, they\nsent him presents of all manner of things of price, even to\nmeat and drink and clothes, and took him with them in the\nmarket, saying, 'When will thy baggage arrive?' And he answered,\n'After three days it will come.'\n\nAccordingly, when the three days had elapsed, the servant of\nthe first treasure came to him and said, 'Go forth and meet thy\nharem, together with the treasure I have brought thee from\nYemen, part of which is by way of costly merchandise; but the\nslaves, black and white, and the horses and camels and mules\nare all of the Jinn. (Now the genie, when he betook himself to\nCairo, found Ali's wife and children in sore straits for\nnakedness and hunger; so he carried them forth of the town in a\ntravelling-litter and clad them in sumptuous raiment of that\nwhich was in the treasure of Yemen.) When Ali heard this, he\nrose and repairing to the merchants, said to them, 'Come, go\nforth the city with me, to meet the caravan, with my merchandise,\nand honour me with the presence of your harems, to meet my\nharem.' 'We hear and obey,' answered they and sending for\ntheir harems, went forth all together and alighted in one\nof the gardens without the city. As they sat talking, behold, a\ncloud of dust arose out of the heart of the desert, and they\ncame out to see what it was. Presently, it lifted and discovered\nmules and muleteers and tent-pitchers and linkmen, who came on,\nsinging and dancing, till they reached the garden, when the\nchief of the muleteers came up to Ali and kissing his hand,\nsaid to him, 'O my lord, we have been long on the way, for\nwe thought to enter some days ago; but we were in fear of\nthe highway-robbers, so abode in our station four days, till\nGod the Most High rid us of them.'\n\nThen the merchants mounted their mules and rode forward with\nthe caravan, wondering at the [number of] mules laden with\nchests, whilst their harems followed them, with Ali's harem,\nmarvelling at the richness of the apparel of his wife and\nchildren and saying to each other, 'Verily, the King of Baghdad\nhath no such raiment, no, nor any other of the kings or\nmerchants or notables.' So they entered Baghdad in great state\nand rode on till they came to Ali's house, where they alighted\nand brought the mules and their burdens into the midst of the\ncourtyard. Then they unloaded them and laid up the goods in the\nstorehouses, whilst the merchants' wives went up with Ali's\nfamily to the saloon, which they found as it were a luxuriant\ngarden, spread with magnificent furniture. They sat in mirth\nand good cheer till noon, when they brought them up the noon\nmeal, of all manner meats and sweetmeats of the best; and\nthey ate and drank costly sherbets and perfumed themselves\nthereafter with rose-water and scented woods. Then they took\nleave and departed, men and women. When the merchants returned\nhome, they all sent presents to Ali, according to their\nconditions; and their wives likewise sent presents to his wife,\nso that there came to them great plenty of slaves, black and\nwhite and male and female, and store of all manner goods, such\nas grain and sugar and so forth, beyond count. As for the\nlandlord of the house, he abode with Ali and quitted him not,\nbut said to him, 'Let the slaves and servants take the mules\nand the other cattle into one of my other houses, to rest.'\nQuoth Ali, 'They set out again to-night for such a place.' Then\nhe gave them leave to go forth the city, that they might set\nout on their journey at nightfall; whereupon they took leave of\nhim forthright and departing the city, flew off through the air\nto their several abodes.\n\nAli and the merchant sat together till a third of the night\nwas past, when the latter returned to his own house and Ali\nwent up to his wife and children and greeted them, saying,\n'What hath befallen you all this time?' So she told him what\nthey had suffered of hunger and nakedness and toil, and he\nsaid, 'Praised be God for safety! How did ye come?' 'O my lord,'\nanswered she, 'I was asleep, with my children, yesternight,\nwhen suddenly one raised us from the ground and carried us\nthrough the air, without doing us any hurt, nor did he give\nover flying with us, till he set us down in a place as it were\na Bedouin camping-place, where we saw laden mules and a litter\nborne upon two great mules, and round them servants, boys and\nmen. So I said to them, \"Who are ye and what are these loads\nand where are we?\" And they answered, \"We are the servants of\nthe merchant Ali ibn Hassan of Cairo, who has sent us to fetch\nyou to him at Baghdad.\" Quoth I, \"Is it far or near, hence to\nBaghdad?\" \"Near,\" answered they; \"there lies but the darkness\nof the night between us and the city.\" Then they mounted us in\nthe litter, and on the morrow, we found ourselves with thee,\nwithout having suffered any hurt. 'Who gave you these clothes?'\nasked he, and she said, 'The chief of the caravan opened one of\nthe chests on the mules and taking out the clothes, clad me and\nthe children each in a suit; after which he locked the chest\nand gave me the key, saying, \"Take care of it, till thou give\nit to thy husband.\" And here it is, safe.' So saying, she gave\nhim the key, and he said, 'Dost thou know the chest?' 'Yes,'\nanswered she. So he took her down to the magazine and she\npointed it out, whereupon he put the key in the lock and opened\nthe chest, in which he found much raiment and the keys of all\nthe other chests. So he took them out and fell to opening the\nother chests, one after another, and feasting his eyes upon the\njewels and precious metals they contained, whose like was not\nfound with any of the kings; after which he locked them again\nand took the keys, saying to his wife, 'This is of the bounty\nof God the Most High.'\n\nThen he returned with her to the saloon and bringing her to the\nsecret panel, pressed the knob and opened the door of the\ncloset into which he entered with her and showed her the gold\nhe had laid up there. Quoth she, 'Whence hadst thou all this?'\n'It came to me by the grace of my Lord,' answered he and told\nher all that had befallen him, from first to last. 'O my lord,'\nsaid she, 'all this comes of the blessing of thy father's\nprayers, whenas he prayed for thee, before his death, saying,\n\"I beseech God to cast thee into no strait, except He bring\nthee speedy deliverance [therefrom]!\" So praised be God the\nMost High for that He hath brought thee relief and hath\nrequited thee with more than thou didst lose! But God on thee,\nO my lord, return not to thy sometime fashion and companying\nwith folk of lewd life; but look thou fear God the Most High,\nboth in public and private!' And she went on to admonish him.\nQuoth he, 'I accept thine admonition and beg God the Most High\nto remove the wicked from us and stablish us in His obedience\nand in the observance of the law of His Prophet, on whom be\npeace and salvation!'\n\nAli and his wife and children were now in all delight of life and\ngladness; and he opened him a shop in the merchants' bazaar and\nstocking it with jewels and precious metals, sat therein with\nhis children and servants. He soon became the most considerable\nof the merchants of Baghdad, and his report reached the King of\nthat city, who sent a messenger to command his attendance. So\nhe took four trays of red gold and filling them with jewels and\nprecious metals, such as no king possessed, went up to the\npalace and presenting himself before the prince, kissed the\nearth before him and wished him continuance of glory and\nprosperity, in the best words he could command. 'O merchant,'\nsaid the King, 'thou honourest our city with thy presence;'\nand Ali rejoined, saying, 'O King of the age, thy slave hath\nbrought thee a present and hopes for acceptance thereof from\nthy favour.' So saying, he laid the four trays before the King,\nwho uncovered them and seeing that they contained jewels,\nwhose like he possessed not and whose worth equalled treasuries\nof money, said, 'O merchant, thy present is accepted, and so\nGod please, we will requite thee with its like.' And Ali kissed\nhis hands and went away. Then the King called his grandees\nand said to them, 'How many kings have sought my daughter in\nmarriage?' 'Many,' answered they. 'Hath any of them given me\nthe like of this gift?' asked he. 'Not one,' replied they;\n'for that none of them hath its like;' and he said, 'I have\nconsulted God the Most High,[FN#200] as to marrying my daughter\nto this merchant. What say ye?' 'Be it as thou deemest,'\nanswered they. Then he bade the eunuch carry the four trays\ninto his harem and going in to his wife, laid them before\nher. She uncovered them and seeing therein that whose like\nshe possessed not,--no, nor a fraction thereof,--said to him,\n'Of which of the kings hadst thou these? Peradventure of\none of those that seek our daughter in marriage?' 'Not so,'\nanswered he, 'I had them of an Egyptian merchant, who is lately\ncome to our city. I heard tell of him and sent to command him\nto us, thinking to make his acquaintance, so haply we might\nfind with him somewhat of jewels and buy them of him for our\ndaughter's equipment. He obeyed the summons and brought us\nthese four trays, as a present, and I saw him to be a handsome\nand elegant young man[FN#201] of dignified aspect and accomplished\nwit, well-nigh as he were of the sons of the kings. Wherefore my\nheart inclined to him and I rejoiced in him and thought to marry\nmy daughter to him.' Then he told her what had passed between\nhimself and his grandees on the subject and added, 'But what\nsayst thou?' 'O King of the age,' answered she, 'the affair\nis in God's hand, and thine, and what God willeth shall come\nto pass.' 'If it be His will,' rejoined the King, 'I will marry\nher to none other than this young man.'\n\nSo, on the morrow, he went out to his Divan and sending for Ali\nand the rest of the merchants of Baghdad, bade them be seated.\nThen he summoned the Cadi of the Divan and said to him, 'O\nCadi, draw up the contract of marriage between my daughter and\nthe merchant Ali of Cairo.' But the latter said, 'Thy pardon, O\nour lord the Sultan! It befits not that a merchant, such as I,\nbe the King's son-in-law.' Quoth the King, 'It is my will to\nbestow this favour upon thee, as well as the Vizierate.' And he\ninvested him forthwith in the Vizier's habit. Then Ali sat down\nin the seat of the Vizierate and said, 'O King of the age, thou\nhast bestowed on me this; and indeed I am honoured by thy\nbounties; but hear one word from me.' 'Say on,' answered the\nKing, 'and fear not.' Quoth Ali, 'Since it is thine august will\nto marry thy daughter, thou wouldst do better to marry her to\nmy son.' 'Hast thou then a son?' asked the King; and Ali\nreplied, 'Yes.' 'Send for him forthright,' said the King;\nwhereupon, 'I hear and obey,' answered Ali and sent a servant\nto fetch his son, who came and kissing the ground before the\nKing, stood in an attitude of respect. The King looked at him\nand seeing him to be yet comelier than his daughter and\ngoodlier than she in symmetry and brightness and perfection,\nsaid to him, 'O my son, what is thy name?' 'O our lord the\nSultan,' replied the young man, who was then fourteen years\nold, 'my name is Hassan.' Then the Sultan said to the Cadi,\n'Write the contract of marriage between my daughter Husn el\nWujoud and Hassan, son of the merchant Ali of Cairo.' So he\nwrote the contract of marriage between them, and the affair was\nended on the goodliest wise; after which all in the Divan went\ntheir ways and the merchants escorted the Vizier Ali to his\nhouse, where they gave him joy of his advancement and departed.\nThen he went in to his wife, who, seeing him clad in the\nVizier's habit, exclaimed, 'What is this?' So he told her all\nthat had passed, and she rejoiced therein with an exceeding\njoy.\n\nOn the morrow, he went up to the Divan, where the King received\nhim with especial favour and seating him beside himself, said\nto him, 'O Vizier, we purpose to celebrate the wedding festivities\nand bring thy son in to our daughter.' 'O our lord the Sultan,'\nreplied Ali, 'that thou deemest good is good.' So the Sultan\ngave orders for the festivities, and they decorated the city\nand held high festival thirty days, in all cheer and gladness;\nat the end of which time, the Vizier Ali's son Hassan went\nin to the princess and enjoyed her beauty and grace. When\nthe queen saw her daughter's husband, she conceived a warm\naffection for him, and in like manner she rejoiced greatly in\nhis mother. Then the King bade build his son-in-law a palace\nbeside his own; so they built him with all speed a splendid\npalace, in which he took up his abode; and his mother used to\nabide with her son some days and then return to her own house.\nAfter awhile, the queen said to her husband, 'O King of the\nage, Hassan's mother cannot take up her abode with her son and\nleave the Vizier; neither can she abide with her husband and\nleave her son.' 'Thou sayst sooth,' replied the King and bade\nbuild a third palace beside the two others, which being done in\na few days, he caused remove thither the Vizier's goods, and\nthe latter and his wife took up their abode there. Now the\nthree palaces communicated with one another, so that, when the\nKing had a mind to speak with the Vizier by night, he would go\nto him or send to fetch him; and so with Hassan and his father\nand mother.\n\nThey dwelt thus in the greatest happiness and contentment awhile,\ntill the King fell ill and his sickness increased on him. So he\nsummoned the grandees of his realm and said to them, 'There is\ncome upon me a sore sickness, peradventure a mortal one, and I\nhave therefore summoned you to consult you respecting a certain\nmatter, on which I would have you counsel me as you deem well.'\n'What is the matter of which thou wouldst take counsel with us,\nO King?' asked they; and he answered, 'I am old and sickly and\nI fear for the realm, after me, from the enemies; so I would\nhave you all agree upon some one, that I may proclaim him king\nin my lifetime and so ye may be at ease.' Whereupon quoth they\nall, 'We all approve of thy son-in-law Hassan, son of the\nVizier Ali; for we have seen the perfectness of his wit and\nunderstanding, and he knows the rank of all, great and small.\n\n'Are ye indeed agreed upon this?' asked the King, and they\nanswered, 'Yes.' 'Peradventure,' quoth he, 'ye say this to my\nface, of respect for me; but, behind my back, ye will say\notherwise.' But they all answered, saying, 'By Allah, our word,\nin public and in private, is one, varying not; and we accept\nhim frankly and with all our hearts.' 'Since the case is thus,'\nsaid the King, 'bring the Cadi of the Holy Law and all the\nchamberlains and captains and officers of state before me\nto-morrow, and we will settle the affair on the goodliest\nwise.' 'We hear and obey,' answered they and withdrawing,\nnotified all the doctors of the law and the chief Amirs.\n\nSo, on the morrow, they came up to the Divan and saluted the\nKing, who said to them, 'O Amirs of Baghdad, whom will ye have\nto be king over you after me, that I may invest him in my\nlifetime, in the presence of you all?' Quoth they all, 'We are\nagreed upon thy daughter's husband, Hassan, son of the Vizier\nAli.' 'If it be so,' said the King, 'go all of you and bring\nhim before me.' So they all arose and repairing to Hassan's\npalace, said to him, 'Come with us to the King.' 'Wherefore?'\nasked he, and they answered, 'For a thing that will advantage\nboth us and thee.' So he went in with them to the King and\nkissed the ground before the latter, who bade him be seated and\nsaid to him, 'O Hassan, all the Amirs have approved of thee and\nagreed to make thee king over them after me; and it is my\npurpose to proclaim thee, whilst I yet live, and so make an end\nof the business.' But Hassan arose and kissing the earth once\nmore before the King, said to him, 'O our lord the King, among\nthe Amirs there be [many] who are older than I and greater of\nworth; hold me quit therefore of this thing.' Quoth all the\nAmirs, 'We consent not but that thou be king over us.' Then\nsaid Hassan, 'My father is older than I, and he and I are one\nthing; and it befits not to advance me over him.' But Ali\nsaid, 'I will consent to nothing but what is pleasing to my\nbrethren; and they have all chosen and agreed upon thee.\nWherefore gainsay thou not the King's commandment and that\nof thy brethren.' And Hassan hung his head in abashment before\nthe King and his father. Then said the King to the Amirs, 'Do\nye all accept of him?' 'We do,' answered they and recited\nthereupon seven Fatihehs.'[FN#202] So the King said to the\nCadi, 'Draw up a legal act testifying of these Amirs that they\nare agreed to make my daughter's husband Hassan king over\nthem.' So the Cadi wrote the act and made it executory,[FN#203]\nafter they had all taken the oath of fealty to Hassan. Then the\nKing invested him with the insignia of royalty and bade him\ntake his seat on the throne; whereupon they all arose and\nkissed King Hassan's hands and did homage to him.\n\nThe new king dispensed justice among the people that day, in\nright royal fashion, and invested the grandees of the realm in\nsplendid robes of honour. When the Divan broke up, he went in\nto his father-and-law and kissed his hands; and the old King\nsaid to him, 'O my son, look thou govern the people in the fear\nof God.' 'O my father,' replied Hassan, 'through thy prayers\nfor me, the grace of God will come to me.' Then he entered his\nown palace and was met by his wife and her mother and their\nattendants, who kissed his hands and gave him joy of his\nadvancement, saying, 'This is a blessed day.' Then he went in\nto his father and mother, who rejoiced with an exceeding joy in\nthat which God had vouchsafed him of his advancement to the\nkingship, and his father exhorted him to the fear of God and to\naffectionate solicitude in his dealings with his subjects. He\npassed the night in joy and gladness, and on the morrow, having\nprayed the appointed prayers, concluding with the customary\nrecitation of part of the Koran, he repaired to the Divan,\nwhither came all his officers and dignitaries. He passed the\nday in dispensing justice among his subjects, enjoining to\nbeneficence and forbidding from iniquity and appointing and\ndisplacing, till nightfall, when the Divan broke up, after the\ngoodliest fashion, and all present withdrew and went each his\nown way. Then he arose and went in to the palace, where he\nfound his father-in-law's sickness grown heavy upon him and\nsaid to him, 'May no hurt befall thee!' At this the old King\nopened his eyes and said, 'O Hassan!' 'At thy service, O my\nlord,' replied the young man. Quoth the old King, 'My last hour\nis at hand: be careful of thy wife and her mother and look\nthou fear God and honour thy parents, being still in awe of\nthe majesty of the Requiting King and remembering that He\ncommandeth to justice and beneficence.' And Hassan replied,\n'I hear and obey.'\n\nThe old King lingered three days after this and was then\nreceived into the mercy of God the Most High. They paid him\nthe last offices and buried him and held over him readings and\nrecitations of the Koran, to the end of the [customary] forty\ndays. And King Hassan, son of the Vizier, reigned in his stead,\nand his subjects rejoiced in him and all his days were gladness.\nMoreover, his father ceased not to be his chief Vizier on his\nright hand, and he took to himself another Vizier, to be at his\nleft hand. His reign was a prosperous one and he abode long\nKing in Baghdad. God blessed him, by the old King's daughter,\nwith three sons, who inherited the kingdom after him; and they\nabode in the enjoyment of all delight and solace of life, till\nthere came to them the Destroyer of Delights and the Sunderer\nof Companies. And glory be to Him who is eternal and in whose\nhand are annulment and confirmation!\n\n\n\n\n\n            THE PILGRIM AND THE OLD WOMAN WHO DWELT\n                        IN THE DESERT.\n\n\n\nA man of the pilgrims once slept a long sleep and awaking,\nfound no trace of the caravan. So he arose and walked on, but\nlost his way and presently came to a tent, at whose door he saw\nan old woman and a dog by her, asleep. He went up to the tent\nand saluting the old woman, sought of her food. 'Go to yonder\nvalley,' said she, 'and catch thy sufficiency of serpents, that\nI may broil of them for thee and give thee to eat.' 'I dare not\ncatch serpents,' answered the pilgrim; 'nor did I ever eat\nthem.' Quoth the old woman, 'I will go with thee and catch\nthem; fear not.' So she went with him, followed by the dog, to\nthe valley, and catching a sufficient number of serpents,\nproceeded to broil them. He saw nothing for it but to eat, for\nfear of hunger and exhaustion; so he ate of the serpents.\n\nThen he was athirst and asked for water to drink. 'Go to the\nspring and drink,' answered she. So he went to the spring and\nfound the water thereof bitter; yet needs must he drink of it,\nfor all its bitterness, because of the violence of his thirst.\nThen he returned to the old woman and said to her, 'O old\nwoman, I marvel at thy choosing to abide in this place and\nputting up with such meat and drink!' 'And how is it then in\nthy country?' asked she. 'In my country,' answered he, 'are\nwide and spacious houses and ripe and delicious fruits and\nsweet and abundant waters and goodly viands and fat meats and\nplentiful flocks and all things pleasant and all the goods of\nlife, the like whereof are not, save in the Paradise that God\nthe Most High hath promised to His pious servants.' 'All this,'\nreplied she, 'have I heard: but tell me, have you a Sultan who\nruleth over you and is tyrannical in his rule and under whose\nhand you are, who, if one of you commit a fault, taketh his\ngoods and undoth him and who, when he will, turneth you out of\nyour houses and uprooteth you, stock and branch?' 'Indeed, that\nmay be,' answered the man. 'Then, by Allah,' rejoined she,\n'these your delicious viands and dainty life and pleasant\nestate, with tyranny and oppression, are but a corroding\npoison, in comparison wherewith, our food and fashion, with\nfreedom and safety, are a healthful medicine. Hast thou not\nheard that the best of all boons, after the true Faith, are\nhealth and security?'\n\nNow these[FN#204] [quoth he who tells the tale] may be by the\njust rule of the Sultan, the Vicar of God in His earth, and the\ngoodness of his policy. The Sultan of times past needed but\nlittle awfulness, for that, when the people saw him, they\nfeared him; but the Sultan of these days hath need of the most\naccomplished policy and the utmost majesty, for that men are\nnot as men of time past and this our age is one of folk\ndepraved and greatly calamitous, noted for folly and hardness\nof heart and inclined to hatred and enmity. If, therefore, the\nSultan that is set over them be (which God the Most High\nforfend) weak or lack of policy and majesty, without doubt,\nthis will be the cause of the ruin of the land. Quoth the\nproverb, 'A hundred years of the Sultan's tyranny, rather than\none of the tyranny of the people, one over another.' When the\npeople oppress one another, God setteth over them a tyrannical\nSultan and a despotic King. Thus it is told in history that\nthere was, one day, presented to El Hejjaj ben Yousuf[FN#205] a\ndocket, in which was written, 'Fear God and oppress not His\nservants with all manner of oppression.' When he read this, he\nmounted the pulpit, (for he was ready of speech,) and said, 'O\nfolk' God the Most High hath set me over you, by reason of your\n[evil] deeds; and though I die, yet will ye not be delivered\nfrom oppression, with your evil deeds; for God the Most High\nhath created many like unto me. If it be not I, it will be a\nmore fertile than I in mischief and a mightier in oppression\nand a more strenuous in violence, even as saith the poet:\n\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\nTyranny is feared: but justice is the best of all things. We\nbeg God to better our case.'\n\n\n\n\n\n            ABOULHUSN AND HIS SLAVE-GIRL TAWEDDUD.\n\n\n\nThere was once in Baghdad a man of rank and rich in money and\nhouses and lands, who was one of the chiefs of the merchants,\nand God had largely endowed him with worldly goods, but had\nnot vouchsafed him what he longed for of offspring; and there\npassed over him a long space of time, without his being blessed\nwith children, male or female. His years waxed great, his bones\nbecame wasted and his back bent, and weakness and trouble\nincreased on him, and he feared the loss of his wealth and\npossessions, seeing he had no child, whom he might make his\nheir and by whom he should be remembered. So he betook himself\nwith supplication to God the Most High, fasting by day and\nrising by night [to pray]. Moreover, he made vows to God the\nLiving, the Eternal, and visited the pious and was instant in\nsupplication to the Most Migh, till He gave ear to him and\naccepted his prayer and took pity on his striving and complaining;\nso that, before many days were past, he lay with one of his women\nand she became with child by him the same night. She accomplished\nthe months of her pregnancy and casting her burden, bore a male\nchild as he were a piece of the moon; whereupon the merchant,\nin his gratitude to God, (to whom belong might and majesty,)\nfulfilled his vows and gave alms and clothed the widow and the\norphan.\n\nOn the seventh night after the boy's birth, he named him\nAboulhusn, and the wet-nurses suckled him and the dry-nurses\ndandled him and the slaves and servants carried him, till he\ngrew up and throve and learnt the sublime Koran and the\nordinances of Islam and the things of the True Faith. Moreover,\nhe learned writing and poetry and mathematics and archery and\nbecame the pearl of his age and the goodliest of the folk of\nhis time and his day, fair of face and fluent of tongue,\nbearing himself with a proud and graceful port and glorying in\nhis symmetry and amorous grace. His cheeks were red and his\nforehead white and brilliant and the tender down of the\nwhiskers darkened upon his face, even as saith one, describing\nhim:\n\nThe Spring of the down on his cheeks to the eye shows clear;\n     And how shall the rose endure, after Spring is here?\nDost thou not see that the growth on his cheek, forsooth, A\n     violet is, that forth of its leaves doth peer?\n\nHe abode awhile with his father, in the best of case, and the\nlatter rejoiced and delighted in him, till he came to man's\nestate, when the merchant one day made him sit down before him\nand said to him, 'O my son, the appointed term draws near; my\nlast hour is at hand and it remains but to meet God (to whom\nbelong might and majesty). I leave thee what shall suffice\nthee, even to thy son's son, of money and farms and houses and\ngardens; wherefore, O my son, fear thou God the Most High in\n[dealing with] that which I leave thee and follow none but\nthose who will help thee [in this].' Not long after, he\nsickened and died; so his son ordered his funeral, after the\ngoodliest fashion, and burying him, returned to his house and\nsat mourning for him [many] days and nights, till certain of\nhis friends came in to him and said to him, 'Whoso leaveth the\nlike of thee after him is not dead; indeed, what is past is\npast and mourning beseemeth none but girls and cloistered\nwomen.' And they ceased not from him, till they wrought on him\nto enter the bath and break off his mourning. Then he forgot\nhis father's injunctions, and his head was turned by his\nriches; he thought fortune would still abide with him, as it\nwas, and that wealth would never come to an end. So he ate and\ndrank and made merry and took his pleasure and gave gifts of\nmoney and raiment and was profuse with gold and gave himself up\nto eating fowls and breaking the seals of wine-flasks and\nlistening to songs and to the laugh of the wine, as it gurgled\nfrom the flagon; nor did he give over this way of life, till\nhis wealth was wasted and the case became straitened [upon him]\nand he bit his hands [for repentance] and gone was all he had.\n\nIn good sooth, he had nothing left, after that which he had\nsquandered, but a slave-girl that his father had bequeathed to\nhim with the rest of his estate: her name was Taweddud and she\nhad no equal in beauty and grace and brightness and symmetry\nand all perfection. She was past mistress in all manner of arts\nand accomplishments and endowed with [many] excellences,\nsurpassing all the folk of her age and time. She was grown more\nnotorious than a way-mark,[FN#206] for the versatility of her\ngenius, and outdid the fair both in theory and practice and\nelegant and flexile grace, more by token that she was five feet\nhigh and in conjunction with fair fortune, with strait arched\nbrows, as they were the crescent moon of Shaaban,[FN#207] and\neyes like those of gazelles, nose like the point of the sabre\nand cheeks like blood-red anemones, mouth like Solomon's seal\nand teeth like necklaces of pearls, navel holding an ounce of\nbenzoin ointment and waist more slender than his body whom love\nhath wasted and whom concealment [of his passion] hath made\nsick, and buttocks heavier than two hills of sand; brief, in\nall she answered to the saying of him who says:\n\nHer fair shape ravisheth, if face to face she did appear, And\n     if she turn, for severance from her she slayeth sheer.\nSun-like, full-moon-like, sapling-like, unto her character\n     Estrangement nowise appertains nor cruelty austere.\nUnder the bosom of her shift the garths of Eden are, and the\n     full-moon revolveth still upon her neck-rings' sphere.\n\nShe seemed [at once] a rising full moon and a browsing gazelle,\na girl of nine and five,[FN#208] putting to shame the moon and\nthe sun, even as saith of her the eloquent and ingenious poet:\n\nThe likeness of the full-moon, faring o'er The heavens, five\n     and five and after four;\n'Tis not my fault, if she have made of me Its likeness, when it\n     first in heaven doth soar.\n\nWhite of skin, odoriferous of breath, it seemed as if she were\n[at once] fashioned of fire and moulded of crystal; rose-red\nwas the cheek of her and perfect her shape and figure; even as\nsaith of her one, describing her:\n\n\nScented with sandal and musk, right proudly doth she go, With\n     gold and silver and rose and saffron-colour aglow.\nA flower in a garden she is, a pearl in an ouch of gold Or an\n     image in chapel set for worship of high and low.\nSlender and shapely she is; vivacity bids her arise, But the\n     weight of her hips says, \"Sit, or softly and slowly go.\"\nWhenas her favours I seek and sue for my heart's desire, \"Be\n     gracious,\" her beauty says; but her coquetry answers,\n     \"No.\"\nGlory to Him who made beauty her portion, and that Of her lover\n     to be the prate of the censurers, heigho!\n\nIndeed, she captivated all who saw her, with the excellence of\nher beauty and the sweetness of her smile, and transpierced\nthem with the arrows she launched from her eyes; and withal she\nwas eloquent of speech and excellently skilled in poetry.\n\nWhen Aboulhusn had squandered all his wealth and there remained\nto him nought but this slave-girl, when [I say] the wretchedness\nof his plight became manifest to him, he abode three days\nwithout tasting food or taking rest in sleep, and Taweddud\nsaid to him, 'O my lord, carry me to the Khalif Haroun er\nReshid, fifth of the sons of Abbas, and seek of him ten thousand\ndinars to my price. If he deem me dear at this price, say to\nhim, \"O Commander of the Faithful, my slave is worth more\nthan this: do but prove her, and her value will be magnified\nin thine eyes, for she hath not her equal, and it were unfit\nthat any but thou should possess her.\" And beware, O my lord,\nof selling me for less than the sum I have named, for it is\nbut little for the like of me.' (Now Aboulhusn knew not her\nworth nor that she had no equal in her day.) So he carried\nher to the Khalif, to whom he repeated what she had bidden\nhim say, and the Khalif said to her, 'What is thy name?'\n'Taweddud,' answered she. 'O Taweddud,' asked he, 'in what\nbranches of knowledge dost thou excel?' 'O my lord,' answered\nshe, 'I am versed in syntax and poetry and jurisprudence and\nexegesis and lexicography and music and the knowledge of the\nDivine ordinances and in arithmetic and geodesy and the fables\nof the ancients. I know the sublime Koran [by heart] and have\nread it according to the seven and the ten and the fourteen\n[modes]. I know the number of its chapters and verses and\nsections and words and letters and its halves and fourths\nand eighths and tenths, the number of acts of adoration,\nthat occur in it, and what there is in it of cancelling and\ncancelled;[FN#209] also what parts of it were revealed at\nMedina and what at Mecca and the manner of the different\nrevelations. I know the Holy Traditions, their history and\nvariants and the manner of their recitation and interpretation,\ntogether with those of them whose chain of descent is unbroken\nand those for which it is broken; and I have studied the exact\nsciences, geometry and philosophy and medicine and logic\nand rhetoric and composition; and I know many things and am\npassionately fond of poetry. I can play the lute and know its\ngamut and notation and so forth. If I sing and dance, I ravish,\nand if I adorn and perfume myself, I slay. In fine, I have\nreached a pitch of perfection such as can only be estimated by\nthose who are stablished in knowledge.'[FN#210]\n\nWhen the Khalif heard her words, he wondered at them and at the\neloquence of her speech, seeing the tenderness of her age, and\nturning to Aboulhusn, said to him, 'I will summon those who\nshall examine her in all she lays claim to; if she answer\n[correctly,] I will give thee the price thou askest for her and\nmore; and if not, thou art fitter to [possess] her [than I].'\n'With all my heart, O Commander of the Faithful,' replied\nAboulhusn. So the Khalif wrote to the Viceroy of Bassora, to\nsend him Ibrahim ben Siyyar the poet, who was the first man of\nhis day in argument and eloquence and poetry and logic, and\nbade him bring with him readers of the Koran and doctors of the\nlaw and physicians and astrologers and sages and geometricians\nand philosophers; and Ibrahim was more learned than all. In a\nlittle while they all arrived at the Khalif's palace, knowing\nnot what was to do, and the latter sent for them to his\nsitting-chamber and bade them be seated. So they sat down and\nhe bade fetch the damsel Taweddud, who came and unveiling,\nshowed herself, as she were a sparkling star. The Khalif caused\nset her a stool of gold; and she saluted and speaking with an\neloquent tongue, said, 'O Commander of the Faithful, bid the\nlearned men present contend with me in argument.' So he said to\nthem, 'I desire of you that ye dispute with this damsel on the\nthings of her faith and make void her argument, in all she\navoucheth;' and they answered, saying, 'We hear and obey God\nand thee, O Commander of the Faithful.'\n\nThereupon Taweddud bowed her head and said, 'Which of you is\nthe doctor of the law, the scholar, versed in the interpretation\nof the Koran and in the Traditions?' Quoth one of them, 'I am\nthe man thou seekest.' 'Then,' said she, 'ask me of what thou\nwilt.' Quoth the doctor, 'Hast thou read the precious book of\nGod and dost thou know its abrogating and abrogated parts and\nhast thou meditated its verses and expressions?' 'Yes,' answered\nshe. 'Then,' said he, 'I will proceed to question thee of the\nobligatory ordinances and the immutable institutions: so tell\nme of these, O damsel, and who is thy Lord, who thy prophet,\nand who thy brethren. Also, what is thy [point of] fronting\n[in prayer], what thine exemplar, what thy path and what thy\nhighway?' 'Allah is my Lord,' replied she, 'and Mohammed (whom\nGod bless and preserve) my prophet and the true-believers are my\nbrethren. The Koran is my exemplar and the Kaabeh my [point of]\nfronting; the practice of good is my path and the Sunneh[FN#211]\nmy highway.' (Q.) 'With what do we know God the Most High?'\n(A.) 'With the understanding.' (Q.) 'And what is the understanding?'\n(A.) 'It is of two kinds, natural and acquired. The first is that\nwhich God (to whom belong might and majesty) bestoweth on whom He\nwill of His servants; and the other is that which men acquire\nby dint of study and fair knowledge.' (Q.) 'Thou hast answered\nwell. Where is the seat of the understanding?' (A.) 'God casteth\nit in the heart, whence its lustre ascendeth to the brain and\nthere becometh fixed.' (Q.) 'How knowest thou the Prophet of God?'\n(A.) 'By the reading of God's Holy Book and by signs and proofs\nand portents and miracles.' (Q.) 'What are the obligatory\nordinances and the immutable institutions?' (A.) 'The obligatory\nordinances are five in number. (1) Testification that there is no\ngod but God alone, that He hath no partner in divinity and that\nMohammed is His servant and His apostle. (2) The scrupulous\nperformance of the enjoined prayers. (3) The payment of the\npoor-rate. (4) Fasting Ramazan. (5) The performance of the\nPilgrimage to God's Holy House [at Mecca] for all to whom it\nis possible. The immutable institutions are four in number; to\nwit, night and day and sun and moon, the which build up life and\nhope, neither knoweth any son of Adam if they will be destroyed\non the Day of Judgment.' (Q.) 'What are the obligatory rites of\nthe Faith?' (A.) 'Prayer, almsgiving, fasting, pilgrimage,\nfighting for the Faith and abstinence from what is forbidden.'\n(Q.) 'Why dost thou stand up to pray?' (A.) 'To express the\ndevout intent of the slave submitting himself to [or acknowledging]\nthe Divinity.' (Q.) 'What are the conditions precedent of standing\nup to pray?' (A.) 'Purification, covering the privy parts,\nthe avoidance of soiled clothes, standing on a clean place,\nfronting [the Kaabeh,] a standing posture, the intent[FN#212]\nand the magnification of prohibition.'[FN#213] (Q.) 'With what\nshouldest thou go forth thy house to pray? (A.) 'With an intent\nof worship.'[FN#214] (Q.) 'With what intent shouldest thou\nenter the mosque?' (A.) 'With an intent of service.'[FN#215]\n(Q.) 'Why do we front the Kaabeh?' (A.) 'In obedience to three\nDivine and one Traditional ordinance.' (Q.) 'What is the\ncommencement, the consecration and the dissolution [end] of\nprayer?' (A.) 'Purification, the magnification of prohibition\nand the salutation of the angels [concluding prayer].' (Q.)\n'What of him who neglecteth prayer?' (A.) 'It is reported,\namong the authentic (Traditions of the Prophet, that he said),\n\"He, who neglecteth prayer wilfully and without excuse, hath no\npart in Islam.\"' (Q.) 'What is prayer?' (A.) 'Prayer is\ncommunion between the slave and his Lord, and in it are ten\nvirtues, to wit, (1) it illumines the heart (2) makes the face\nshine (3) pleases the Merciful One (4) angers Satan (5)\nconjures calamity (6) wards off the mischief of enemies (7)\nmultiplies mercy (8) forfends vengeance [or punishment] (9)\nbrings the slave nigh unto [or in favour with] his Lord and\n(10) restrains from lewdness and iniquity. It is one of the\nwritten obligatory ordinances and the pillar of the Faith.'\n(Q.) 'What is the key of prayer?' (A.) 'Ablution.' (Q.) 'What\nis the key of ablution?' (A.) 'Nomination.'[FN#216] (Q.) 'That\nof naming God?' (A.) 'Faith.' (Q.) 'That of Faith?' (A.) 'Trust\nin God.' (Q.) 'That of trust in God?' (A.) 'Hope.' (Q.) 'That\nof Hope?' (A.) 'Obedience.' (Q.) 'That of obedience?' (A.) 'The\nconfession of the unity and the acknowledgment of the divinity\nof God.' (Q.) 'What are the Divine ordinances of ablution?'\n(A.) 'They are six in number, according to the canon of the\nImam Es Shafi Mohammed ben Idris (of whom God accept) to wit,\n(1) intent[FN#217] to wash the face (2) washing the face (3)\nwashing the hands and elbows (4) wiping part of the head (5)\nwashing the feet and heels and (6) observing the prescribed\norder of ablution, whose statutes are ten in number, to wit,\n(1) nomination (2) washing the hands before putting them into\nthe vase (3) rinsing the mouth (4) drawing up water through the\nnostrils (5) wiping the whole head (6) washing the ears within\nand without with fresh water (7) separating a thick beard (8)\nseparating the fingers and toes (9) washing the right foot\nbefore the left and (10) doing each of these thrice and all in\nunbroken succession. When the ablution is ended, the devotee\nshould (quoth Es Shafi[FN#218]) say, \"I testify that there is\nno god but God alone, who hath no partner, and that Mohammed is\nHis servant and apostle. O my God, make me of those who repent\nand are made clean! Glory to Thee, O my God, and in Thy praise\nI testify that there is no god but Thou! I crave pardon of\nThee and repent to Thee!\" For it is reported, in the Holy\nTraditions, that the Prophet (whom God bless and keep) said of\nthis prayer, \"Whoso ensueth every ablution with this prayer,\nthe eight gates of Paradise are open to him; he shall enter at\nwhich he pleases.\"' (Q.) 'When a man purposes to make the\nablution, what betides him from the angels and the devils?'\n(A.) 'When a man prepares for ablution, the angels come and\nstand on his right and the devils on his left hand. If he name\nGod, at the beginning of the ablution, the devils flee from him\nand the angels hover over him with a pavilion of light, having\nfour ropes, to each an angel glorifying God and craving pardon\nfor him, so long as he remains silent or calls upon the name of\nGod. But if he omit to begin with naming God (to whom belong\nmight and majesty) neither remain silent, the angels depart\nfrom him and the devils settle upon him and whisper evil\nthoughts unto him, till he falls into doubt and comes short in\nhis ablution. For (quoth he on whom be blessing and salvation)\n\"A perfect ablution driveth away the devils and assureth\nagainst the tyranny of the Sultan; and he who neglecteth the\nablution, if calamity befall him, let him blame none but\nhimself.\"' (Q.) 'What should a man do, when he awakes from\nsleep?' (A.) 'He should wash his hands thrice, before putting\nthem into the vessel.' (Q.) 'What are the ordinances, Koranic\nand Traditional, of complete ablution?'[FN#219] (A.) 'The\nKoranic ordinances are intent and covering the whole body with\nwater, so that it shall come at every part of the hair and\nskin. The Traditional, previous partial ablution [as before\nprayer,] rubbing the body, separating the hair and deferring in\nwords[FN#220] the washing of the feet till the end of the\nablution.' (Q.) 'What are the reasons [or occasions] for making\nthe ablution with other than water, and what are the ordinances\nthereof, Koranic and Traditional?'[FN#221] (A.) 'The reasons\nare seven in number, to wit, lack of water, fear, need thereto,\ngoing astray on a journey, sickness, having the bones [broken\nand] in splints and wounds. As for its ordinances, the Koranic\nare four in number, to wit, intent, dust, applying it to the\nface and to the hands, and the Traditional two, to wit,\nnomination and preferring the right before the left hand.' (Q.)\n'What are the conditions, the essentials [or fundamentals] and\nthe Traditional statutes of prayer?' (A.) 'The conditions are\nfive in number, to wit, (1) purification of the members (2)\ncovering the privy parts (3) observing the proper hours, either\nof certainty or to the best of one's belief, (4) fronting the\nKaabeh and (5) standing on a clean place. The essentials are\ntwelve in number, to wit, (1) intent (2) the magnification of\nprohibition (3) standing at the proper distance one from\nanother (4) repeating the first chapter of the Koran and also\n(according to the Shafiyites) saying, \"In the name of God the\nMerciful, the Compassionate!\" a verse thereof (5) bowing the\nbody and tranquillity [or gravity] therein (6) keeping the feet\nand legs still and in the same position, [whilst the rest of\nthe body moves], and tranquillity therein (7) prostration and\ntranquillity therein (8) sitting between two prostrations and\ntranquillity therein (9) repeating the latter profession of\nthe Faith and sitting up therefor (10) invoking benediction\non the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve) (11) the first\nSalutation[FN#222] and (12) the intent of making an end of\nprayer, [expressed] in words. The Traditional statutes are\nthe call to prayer, the repetition of the words of the latter,\nraising the hands to either side of the face, whilst pronouncing\nthe magnification of prohibition, pronouncing the magnification\nbefore reciting the Fatiheh [First chapter of the Koran],\nseeking refuge with God,[FN#223] saying \"Amen,\" repeating\nthe (obligatory) chapter [of the Koran] after the Fatiheh,\nrepeating the magnifications during change of posture, saying,\n\"May God hear him who praiseth Him!\" and \"O our Lord, to Thee\nbe the praise!\" uttering aloud the prayers in their places\nand in like manner, under the breath, those so prescribed,\nthe first testification and sitting up thereto, blessing the\nProphet therein, blessing his family in the latter profession\n[or testification] and the second Salutation.' (Q.) 'On what\nis the poor-rate taxable?' (A.) 'On gold and silver and camels\nand oxen and sheep and wheat and barley and millet and beans\nand pulse and rice and raisins and dates.' (Q.) 'What is the\npoor-rate on gold ?' (A.) 'Below twenty dinars, nothing; but,\non that amount and over, half a dinar for every score.'\n(Q.) 'On silver?' (A.) 'Under two hundred dirhems, nothing;\nthen, five dirhems on every two hundred.' (Q.) 'On camels?'\n(A.) 'For every five, an ewe, or for every twenty-five a\npregnant camel.' (Q.) 'On sheep?' (A.) 'On forty and over, an\newe for every forty head.' (Q.) 'What are the ordinances of\nthe Fast [of Ramazan]?' (A.) 'The Koranic are intent,[FN#224]\nabstinence from eating, drinking and copulation and stoppage of\nvomiting. It is incumbent on all who submit to the Law, save\nwomen in their courses and forty days after child-birth; and it\nbecomes obligatory on sight of the new moon or on news of its\nappearance, brought by a trustworthy person and commending\nitself as truth to the hearer's heart; and among its requisites\nis that it be commenced by night.[FN#225] The Traditional\nordinances of fasting are, hastening to break the fast,[FN#226]\ndeferring the fore-dawn meal[FN#227] and abstaining from\nspeech, save for good works and for calling on the name of God\nand reciting the Koran.' (Q.) 'What things vitiate not the\nfast?' (A.) 'The use of unguents and eye-powders and the dust\nof the road and the swallowing of one's spittle and the\nemission of seed in dreams of dalliance or at the sight of a\nstrange woman and cupping and letting blood; none of these\nthings vitiates the fast.' (Q.) 'What are the prayers of the\ntwo great [annual] Festivals?' (A.) 'Two one-bow prayers, after\nthe traditional ordinance, without call to prayer or the\nrepetition thereof by the devotee, who shall say, \"Prayer is a\ncollector of all folk!\"[FN#228] and pronounce the magnification\nseven times in the first prayer, besides the magnification of\nprohibition, and in the second, five times, besides that of\nrising up, (according to the canon of the Imam Es Shafi, on\nwhom God have mercy) and make the profession of the Faith.'\n(Q.) 'What are the prayers prescribed on the occasion of an\neclipse of the sun or moon?' (A.) 'Two one-bow prayers, without\ncall to prayer or repetition thereof by the devotee, who shall\nmake in each two standings up and two inclinations and two\nprostrations, then sit up and testify and salute.' (Q.) 'What\nis the ritual of prayer for rain?' (A.) 'Two one-bow prayers,\nwithout call to prayer or repetition; then shall the devotee\nmake the profession and salute. Moreover [the Imam] shall\ndeliver an exhortation and (in place of the magnification, as\nin the two exhortations of the two great Festivals) ask pardon\nof God and reverse his mantle and pray and supplicate.' (Q.)\n'What are the additional or occasional prayers?' (A.) 'The\nleast is a one-bow prayer and the most eleven.' (Q.) 'What\nis the forenoon prayer?' (A.) 'At least, two one-bow prayers\nand at most, twelve.' (Q.) 'What is the service of seclusion?'\n[FN#229] (A.) 'It is a matter of Traditional ordinance.'\n(Q.) 'What are its conditions?' (A.) '(1) Expression of intent\n(2) not leaving the mosque save of necessity (3) not having\nto do with a woman (4) fasting and (5) abstaining from speech.'\n(Q.) 'Under what conditions is pilgrimage obligatory?' (A.)\n'So a man be of full age and understanding and a true-believer\nand it be possible to him; and it is obligatory [on all], once\nbefore death.' (Q.) 'What are the Koranic statutes of the\npilgrimage?'' (A.) '(1) Assumption of the pilgrim's habit\n(2) station at Arafat (3) compassing [the Kaabeh] (4) running\n[between Sefa and Merweh[FN#230]] and (5) [previous] shaving\nor clipping the hair.' (Q.) 'What are the Koranic statutes of\nthe lesser pilgrimage?' (A.) 'Reassuming the pilgrim's habit and\ncompassing and running [as before].' (Q.) 'What are the Koranic\nordinances of the assumption of the pilgrim's habit?' (A.)\n'Putting off sewn garments, forswearing perfume and ceasing to\nshave the head or cut the nails and avoiding the killing of\ngame and copulation.' (Q.) 'What are the Traditional statutes\nof the pilgrimage?' (A.) '(1) The crying out, \"Here I am, O our\nLord!\"[FN#231] (2) the circuitings [about the Kaabeh] of\narrival [at] and departure [from Mecca] (3) the passing the\nnight at Muzdelifeh and Mina[FN#232] and (4) the stone-throwing.'\n[FN#233] (Q.) 'What is the war in defence of the Faith and its\nessentials?' (A.) 'Its essentials are (1) the descent of the\ninfidels upon us (2) the existence of the Imam[FN#234] (3) a\nstate of [armed] preparation and (4) firmness in meeting the\nfoe. Its ordinance is incital to battle, in that the Most High\nhath said, \"O my Prophet, incite the faithful to battle!\"'\n[FN#235] (Q.) 'What are the ordinances of buying and selling?'\n(A.) 'The Koranic are (1) offer and acceptance and (2) if the\nthing sold be a (white) slave, by whom one profiteth, to do\none's endeavour to convert him to Islam and (3) to abstain\nfrom usury; the Traditional, resiliation and option before\nseparating, after the saying of the Prophet, \"The parties\nto a sale shall have the option [of cancelling or altering\nthe terms of a bargain,] whilst they are yet unseparated.\"'\n(Q.) 'What is it forbidden to sell [or exchange] for what?'\n(A.) 'On this point I mind me of an authentic tradition,\nreported by Nafi[FN#236] of the Apostle of God, that he forbade\nthe sale of dried dates for fresh and fresh figs for dry and\njerked for fresh meat and cream for butter; in fine, of all\neatables of one and the same kind, it is unlawful to sell some\nfor other some.'[FN#237] When the professor heard her words\nand knew that she was keen of wit, ingenious and learned in\njurisprudence and the Traditions and the interpretation of the\nKoran and what not else, he said in himself, 'Needs must I go\nabout with her, that I may overcome her in the assembly of the\nCommander of the Faithful.' So he said to her, 'O damsel, what\nis the lexicographical meaning of the word wuzou?'[FN#238]\nAnd she answered, 'Cleanliness and freedom from impurities.'\n(Q.) 'And of prayer?' (A.) 'An invocation of good.' (Q.) 'And\nof ghusl?'[FN#239] (A.) 'Purification.' (Q.) 'And of fasting?'\n(A.) 'Abstention.' (Q.) 'And of zekat?'[FN#240] (A.) 'Increase.'\n(Q.) 'And of pilgrimage?' (A.) 'Visitation [or quest].' (Q.) 'And\nof jehad?'[FN#241] (A.) '[Endeavour in] repelling.' With this the\ndoctor's arguments were exhausted, so he rose to his feet and\nsaid, 'Bear witness against me, O Commander of the Faithful,\nthat this damsel is more learned than I am in the Law. Quoth\nshe, 'I will ask thee somewhat, which do thou answer me\nspeedily, an thou be indeed a learned man.' 'Say on,' quoth he;\nand she said, 'What are the arrows of the Faith?' 'They are ten\nin number,' answered he; 'to wit, (1) Testification,[FN#242]\nthat is, religion (2) Prayer, that is, the Covenant (3) Alms,\nthat is, purification (4) Fasting, that is, defensive armour\n(5) Pilgrimage, that is, the Law (6) Fighting for the Faith,\nthat is, a general duty (7) Enjoining to beneficence and (8)\nForbidding from iniquity, both of which are jealousy [for good]\n(9) The communion of the faithful, that is, sociableness, and\n(10) Seeking knowledge, that is, the praiseworthy way.' (Q.)\n'What are the roots[FN#243] of Islam?' (A.) 'They are four\nin number, to wit, sincerity of belief, truth of purpose,\nobservance of the limit [prescribed by the Law] and keeping the\nCovenant.' Then said she, 'I have one more question to ask\nthee, which if thou answer, [it is well]; else, I will take thy\nclothes.' Quoth he, 'Speak, O damsel;' and she said, 'What are\nthe branches[FN#244] of Islam?' But he was silent and made no\nreply; and she said, 'Put off thy clothes, and I will expound\nthem to thee.' Quoth the Khalif, 'Expound them, and I will make\nhim put off his clothes for thee.' 'They are two-and-twenty in\nnumber,' answered she, 'to wit, (1) holding fast to the Book of\nGod the Most High (2) taking example by His Apostle (whom God\nbless and preserve) (3) abstaining from doing evil (4) eating\nwhat is lawful and (5) avoiding what is unlawful (6) restoring\nthings wrongfully taken to their owners (7) repentance (8)\nknowledge of the Law (9) love of [Abraham] the Friend [of God]\n(10) and of the followers of the Revelation[FN#245] (11) belief\nin the Apostles (12) fear of apostacy (13) preparation for\ndeparture[FN#246] (14) strength of conviction (15) clemency in\ntime of power (16) strength in time of weakness (17) patience\nunder affliction (18) knowledge of God the Most High and (19)\nof what His Prophet hath made known to us (20) gainsaying Iblis\nthe accursed (21) striving earnestly against the lusts of the\nsoul and gainsaying them and (22) guiltlessness of believing in\nany other god but God.'\n\nWhen the Commander of the Faithful heard her words, he bade the\ndoctor put off his clothes and hood; and he did so and went\nforth, beaten and confounded, from the Khalif's presence.\nThereupon arose another man and said to her, 'O damsel, hear a\nfew questions from me.' 'Say on,' quoth she; and he said, 'What\nare the conditions of valid [purchase by] payment in advance?'\n'That the amount [of the thing bought], the kind and the period\n[of delivery to the purchaser], be [fixed or] known,' replied\nshe. (Q.) 'What are the Koranic canons of eating?' (A.) 'The\nconfession [by the eater] that God the Most High provideth him\nand giveth him to eat and drink and thanksgiving to Him\ntherefor.' (Q.) 'What is thanksgiving?' (A.) 'The use by the\ncreature of that which God vouchsafeth to him in the manner and\nto the ends for which He hath created it.' (Q.) 'What are the\nTraditional canons of eating?' (A.) 'The [preliminary] naming\n[of God] and washing the hands, sitting on the left buttock,\neating with three fingers and eating of that which is chewed.'\n[FN#247] (Q.) 'What are the civilities of eating?' (A.) 'Taking\nsmall mouthfuls and looking little at one's table-companion.'\n(Q.) 'What are the heart's stays [or articles of faith] and\ntheir correlatives?' (A.) 'They are three in number, to wit,\n(1) holding fast to the Faith, the correlative whereof is the\nshunning of infidelity, (2) holding fast to the Traditional Law\nand its correlative, the shunning of innovation [or heresy] and\n(3) holding fast to obedience and its correlative, the shunning\nof disobedience.' (Q.) 'What are the conditions of ablution?'\n(A.) '(1) Submission to the will of God[FN#248] (2) possession\nof discernment of good and evil [or having attained the age of\ndiscretion] (3) purity of the water and (4) absence of legal\nor material impediments.' (Q.) 'What is belief?' (A.) 'It is\ndivided into nine parts, to wit, (1) belief in the One worshipped\n(2) belief in the condition of slavery [of the worshipper]\n(3) belief in one God, to the exclusion of all others (4) belief\nin the Two Handfuls[FN#249] (5) belief in Providence (6) belief\nin the Abrogating and (7) in the Abrogated (8) belief in God, His\nangels and apostles and (9) in fore-ordained Fate, general and\nparticular, its good and ill, sweet and bitter.' (Q.) 'What\nthree things do away other three?' (A.) 'It is told of Sufyan\neth Thauri[FN#250] that he said, \"Three things do away other\nthree. Making light of the pious doth away the future life,\nmaking light of kings doth away [this] life and making light of\nexpenditure doth away wealth.\"' (Q.) 'What are the keys of the\nheavens, and how many gates have they?' (A.) 'Quoth God the Most\nHigh, \"And heaven shall be opened, and it shall be [all] doors,\"\n[FN#251] and quoth he whom God bless and keep, \"None knoweth the\nnumber of the gates of heaven, save He who created it, and there\nis no son of Adam but hath two gates allotted to him in the skies,\none whereby his subsistence cometh down and another where-through\nhis works [good and evil] ascend. The former is not closed,\nsave when his term of life comes to an end, nor the latter,\ntill his soul ascends [for judgment].\"' (Q.) 'Tell me of a\nthing and a half thing and a no-thing.' (A.) 'The thing is the\nbeliever, the half thing the hypocrite and the no-thing the\ninfidel.' (Q.) 'Tell me of various kinds of hearts.' (A.)\n'There is the whole [or perfect] heart, which is that of\n[Abraham] the Friend [of God], the sick heart, that of the\ninfidel, the contrite heart, that of the pious, fearful ones,\nthe heart consecrated to God, that of our Lord Mohammed (whom\nGod bless and preserve) and the enlightened [or enlightening]\nheart, that of those who follow him. The hearts of the learned\nare of three kinds, to wit, those that are in love with this\nworld, with the next and with their Lord; and it is said that\nhearts are three, the suspended, that of the infidel, the\nnon-existent [or lost], that of the hypocrite, and the constant\n[or firm], that of the true-believer. Moreover, it is said that\nthe latter is of three kinds, namely, the heart dilated with\nlight and faith, that wounded with fear of estrangement and\nthat which feareth to be forsaken of God.'\n\nQuoth the second doctor, 'Thou hast said well;' whereupon said\nshe to the Khalif, 'O Commander of the Faithful, he has\nquestioned me, till he is weary, and now I will ask him two\nquestions. If he answer them, it is well, and if not, I will\ntake his clothes and he shall depart in peace.' Quoth the\ndoctor, 'Ask me what thou wilt,' and she said, 'What is\nreligion?' 'Religion,' answered he, 'is confession[FN#252] with\nthe tongue and belief with the heart and doing with the\nmembers. Quoth the Prophet, \"The believer is not perfect in\nbelief, except five qualities be accomplished in him, namely,\ntrust in God, committal of his affair to Him, submission to His\ncommandment, acquiescence in His decrees and that he do all for\nHis sake; so is he of those who are acceptable to God and who\ngive and withhold for His sake, and he is perfect in belief.\"'\nThen said she, 'What is the Koranic ordinance of ordinances\nand the ordinance which is the preliminary of all ordinances\nand that of which all others stand in need and that which\ncomprehendeth all others, and what is the Traditional ordinance\nthat entereth into the Koranic, and that whereby the latter is\ncompleted?' But he was silent and made no reply; whereupon the\nKhalif bade her expound and ordered him to doff his clothes and\ngive them to her. 'O doctor,' said she, 'the Koranic ordinance\nof ordinances is the knowledge of God the Most High; that,\nwhich is the preliminary of all others, is the testifying that\nthere is no god but God and that Mohammed is His apostle; that,\nof which all others have need, is ablution; that, which\ncompriseth all others, is that of [total] ablution from\n[ceremonial] defilement; the Traditional ordinance, that enters\ninto the Koranic, is the separation of the fingers and the\nthick beard; and that, wherewith all Koranic ordinances are\ncompleted, is circumcision.' Therewith was manifest the\ninsufficiency of the doctor, who rose to his feet and said, 'I\ncall God to witness, O Commander of the Faithful, that this\ndamsel is more learned than I in the Law and what pertains\nthereto.' So saying, he put off his clothes and went away,\ndefeated.\n\nThen turned she to the rest of the learned men present and\nsaid, 'O masters, which of you is the reader,[FN#253] versed in\nthe seven readings and in syntax and lexicography?' Thereupon\nthe professor arose and seating himself before her, said, 'Hast\nthou read the Book of God the Most High and made thyself\nthroughly acquainted with its verses and its various parts,\nabrogating and abrogated, equivocal and unequivocal, Meccan and\nMedinan? Dost thou understand its interpretation and hast thou\nstudied it, according to the various versions and readings?'\n'Yes,' answered she; and he said, 'What, then, is the number of\nits chapters, how many are Meccan and how many Medinan? How\nmany verses and decades[FN#254] does it contain, how many\nwords and how many letters and how many acts of prostration\nand how many prophets and birds are mentioned in it?' 'It\ncontains a hundred and fourteen chapters,' replied she, 'whereof\nthreescore and ten were revealed at Mecca and forty and four at\nMedina, six thousand three hundred and thirty-six verses, six\nhundred and twenty-one decades, seventy-nine thousand four\nhundred and thirty-nine words and three hundred and twenty-\nthree thousand and six hundred and seventy letters; and to the\nreader thereof, for every letter, accrue ten benefits. The\nacts of prostration it contains are fourteen in number, and\nfive-and-twenty prophets are named therein, to wit, Adam, Noah,\nAbraham, Ishmael, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Elisha, Jonah, Lot,\nSalih, Houd,[FN#255] Shuaib,[FN#256] David, Solomon, Dhoulkifl,\n[FN#257] Idris,[FN#258] Elias, Yehya,[FN#259] Zacharias, Job,\nMoses, Aaron, Jesus and Mohammed, the peace of God and His\nblessing be on them all! Moreover, nine birds [or flying\nthings] are mentioned in the Koran, namely, the gnat, the bee,\nthe fly, the ant, the hoopoe, the crow, the locust, the bustard\nand the bird of Jesus[FN#260] (on whom be peace), to wit, the\nbat.' (Q.) 'Which is the most excellent chapter of the Koran?'\n(A.) 'That of the Cow.'[FN#261] (Q.) 'Which is the most magnificent\nverse?' (A.) 'That of the Throne;[FN#262] it has fifty words, in\neach fifty blessings.' (Q.) 'What verse hath in it nine signs [or\nwonders]?' (A.) 'That in which quoth God the Most High, \"Verily,\nin the creation of the heavens and the earth and the alternation\nof night and day and the ship that runneth in the sea with what\nprofiteth mankind and in what God sendeth down from heaven of\nwater and quickeneth therewith the earth, after its dearth, and\nspreadeth abroad therein all manner cattle, and the shifting of\nthe winds and the clouds, pressed into service betwixt heaven\nand earth, are signs for folk who understand.\"'[FN#263] (Q.)\n'Which is the most just?' (A.) 'That in which God saith, \"Verily,\nGod commandeth to justice and beneficence and giving to those\nthat are near unto us and forbiddeth from profligacy and iniquity\nand oppression.\"'[FN#264] (Q.) 'Which is the most yearnful?' (A.)\n'That in which quoth God, \"Shall every man of them yearn to\nenter a garden of delight?\"'[FN#265] (Q.) 'Which is the most\nhopeful?' (A.) 'That in which quoth God the Most High, \"Say, 'O\nye my servants, that have transgressed against your own souls,\ndespair not of the mercy of God! Indeed, God forgiveth sins,\nall of them, for He is the Forgiving, the Compassionate.'\"'\n[FN#266] (Q.) 'By what version dost thou read?' (A.) 'By that of\nthe people of Paradise, to wit, the version of Nafi.'[FN#267]\n(Q.) 'In which verse doth God make prophets lie?' (A.) 'In that\nwherein He saith, \"They [the brothers of Joseph] brought lying\nblood upon his shirt.\"'[FN#268] (Q.) 'In which doth He make\ninfidels speak the truth?' (A.) 'In that wherein He saith, \"The\nJews say, 'The Nazarenes are [grounded] on nought,' and the\nNazarenes say, 'The Jews are [grounded] on nought;' and [yet]\nthey [both] read the Scripture.\"[FN#269] And [in this] both speak\nthe truth.' (Q.) 'In which doth God speak in His own person [in\nthe singular]?' (A.) 'In that in which He saith, \"Neither have I\ncreated Jinn and men, but that they should worship.\"'[FN#270]\n(Q.) 'In which do the angels speak?' (A.) 'In that which saith,\n\"We celebrate Thy praises and hallow Thee.\"'[FN#271] (Q.) 'What\nsayst thou of the formula, \"I seek refuge with God from Satan\nthe Stoned\"?' (A.) 'It is obligatory, by commandment of God,\non all who read the Koran, as appears by His saying, \"When\nthou readest the Koran, seek refuge with God from Satan the\nStoned.\"'[FN#272] (Q.) 'What are the words and variants of\nthe formula?' (A.) 'Some say, \"I take refuge with God the\nAll-hearing and knowing, etc.,\" and others, \"With God the\nStrong;\" but the best is that of which the noble Koran and the\nTraditions speak. The Prophet was used, whenas he was about to\nopen the Koran, to say, \"I take refuge with God from Satan\nthe Stoned.\" And quoth a Tradition, reported by Nafi on the\nauthority of his [adopted] father, \"The apostle of God used,\nwhen he rose in the night to pray, to say aloud, 'God is Most\nGreat, with [all] greatness! Praise be to God abundantly! Glory\nto God morning and evening!' Then would he say, 'I seek refuge\nwith God from Satan the Stoned and from the instigations of the\nDevils and their evil suggestions.\"' And it is told of Ibn\nAbbas[FN#273] (of whom God accept) that he said, \"The first\ntime Gabriel came down to the Prophet [with a portion of the\nKoran,] he taught him [the formula of] seeking refuge, saying,\n'O Mohammed, say, \"I seek refuge with God the All-hearing and\nknowing;\" then say, \"In the name of God the Compassionate, the\nMerciful!\" And read, in the name of thy Lord who created men\nfrom clotted blood.'\"'[FN#274] (Q.) 'What sayst thou of the\nverse, \"In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful\"?\nIs it one of the verses of the Koran?' (A.) 'Yes; it is a verse\nof \"The ant\"[FN#275] and occurs also [at the head of the first\nand] between every two [following] chapters; and there is much\ndifference of opinion, respecting this, among the learned.'\n(Q.) 'Why is not the formula written at the head of the chapter\nof Immunity?'[FN#276] (A.) 'When this chapter was revealed for\nthe dissolution of the alliance between the Prophet and the\nidolaters, the former sent Ali ibn Abi Talib (whose face God\nhonour) therewith [from Medina to Mecca] at the season of the\ngreater pilgrimage;[FN#277] and he read the chapter to them,\nbut did not read \"In the name, etc.\"'[FN#278] (Q.) 'What of the\nexcellence of the formula and the blessing that attaches to\nit?' (A.) 'It is told of the Prophet that he said, \"Never is\n'In the name, etc.' pronounced over aught, but there is a\nblessing in it;\" and it is reported, on his authority, that the\nLord of Glory swore by His glory that never should the formula\nbe pronounced over a sick person, but he should be healed of\nhis sickness. Moreover, it is said that, when God created the\nempyreal heaven, it was agitated with an exceeding agitation; but\nHe wrote on it, \"In the name, etc.,\" and its agitation subsided.\nWhen the formula was first revealed to the Prophet, he said, \"I\nam safe from three things, earthquake and metamorphosis and\ndrowning;\" and indeed its virtues are great and its blessings\ntoo many to enumerate. It is told of the Prophet that he said,\n\"There will be brought before God, on the judgment day, a man\nwith whom He shall reckon and finding no good deed to his account,\nshall order him to the fire; but the man will say, 'O my God,\nThou hast not dealt justly by me!' Then shall God (to whom belong\nmight and majesty) say, 'How so?' and the man will answer, saying,\n'O Lord, for that Thou callest Thyself the Compassionate, the\nMerciful, yet wilt Thou punish me with the fire!' And God\n(extolled be His majesty) shall say, 'I did indeed name myself\nthe Compassionate, the Merciful. Carry My servant to Paradise,\nof My mercy, for I am the most Merciful of those that have\nmercy.'\"' (Q.) 'What was the origin of the use of the formula?'\n(A.) 'When God revealed the Koran, they wrote, \"In Thy name, O\nmy God!\"; when He revealed the words, \"Say, pray ye to God or\npray ye to the Compassionate, what days ye pray, for to Him\n[belong] the most fair names,\"[FN#279] they wrote, \"In the name\nof God, the Compassionate;\" and when He revealed the words,\n\"Your God is one God, there is no god but He, the Compassionate,\nthe Merciful,\"[FN#280] they wrote, \"In the name of God, the\nCompassionate, the Merciful!\"' (Q.) 'Did God reveal the Koran\nall at once or at intervals?' (A.) 'Gabriel the Faithful\n[Spirit] (on whom be peace) descended with it from the Lord of\nthe Worlds upon His Prophet Mohammed, Prince of the Apostles\nand seal[FN#281] of the Prophets, by detached verses, containing\ncommandment and prohibition, promise and menace, anecdotes\nand similitudes, as the occasion called for it, in the course\nof twenty years.' (Q.) 'Which chapter was first revealed?'\n(A.) 'According to Ibn Abbas, that of the Clot of Blood,[FN#282]\nand according to Jabir ben Abdallah,[FN#283] that of the Covered\n[with a cloak].'[FN#284] (Q.) 'Which verse was the last revealed?'\n(A.) 'That of Usury,[FN#285] and it is said [also], the verse,\n\"When there cometh God's succour and victory.\"'[FN#286] (Q.) 'Tell\nme the names of the Companions who collected the Koran, in the\nlifetime of the Apostle of God.' (A.) 'They were four in number,\nto wit, Uba\u00ef ibn Kaab, Zeid ibn Thabit, Abou Ubeideh Aamir ben\nJerrah and Othman ben Affan,[FN#287] may God accept of them all!'\n(Q.) 'Who are the readers, from whom the [accepted] reading of\nthe Koran is taken?' (A.) 'They are four in number, namely,\nAbdallah ben Mesoud, Uba\u00ef ben Kaab, Maadh ben Jebel[FN#288] and\nSalim ben Abdallah.'[FN#289] (Q.) 'What sayst thou of the words\nof the Most High, \"That which is sacrificed to stones\"?'[FN#290]\n(A.) 'The stones are idols, which are set up and worshipped, instead\nof God the Most High, and [from this] we seek refuge with Him.'\n(Q.) 'What sayst thou of the words of the Most High, \"[Quoth\nJesus] Thou knowest what is in my soul, and I know not what is\nin Thy soul\"?'[FN#291] (A.) 'They mean \"Thou [God] knowest the\ntruth of me and what is in me and I [Jesus] know not what is in\nThee;\" and the proof of this are his words,[FN#292] \"Thou [God]\nart He that knoweth the hidden things;\" and it is said, also,\n\"Thou [God] knowest my essence, but I [man] know not Thine\nessence.\"' (Q.) 'What sayst thou of the words of the Most High,\n\"O ye that believe, deny not yourselves the good things that\nGod hath made lawful to you!\"?'[FN#293] (A.) 'My master (on\nwhom God have mercy) told me that Ez Zuhak[FN#294] said, \"There\nwas a people of the true-believers who said, 'We will dock our\nyards and don sackcloth;' whereupon this verse was revealed.\"\nBut El Cutadeh[FN#295] says that it was revealed on account of\nsundry Companions of the Apostle of God, Ali ibn Abi Talib and\nOthman ben Musaab and others, who said, \"We will dock ourselves\nand don hair [cloth] and make us monks.\"' (Q.) 'What sayst thou\nof the words of the Most High, \"And God took Abraham to\nfriend\"?'[FN#296] (A.) 'The friend [of God] is the needy, the\npoor, and (according to another saying) he is the lover, he who\nis absorbed in the love of God the Most High and in whose\nexclusive devotion there is no falling away.'\n\nWhen the professor saw her pass on in speech with the passing\nof the clouds[FN#297] and that she stayed not in answering, he\nrose to his feet and said, 'I take God to witness, O Commander\nof the Faithful, that this damsel is more learned than I in\nKoranic exegesis and what pertains thereto.' Then said she, 'I\nwill ask thee one question, which if thou answer, it is well:\nbut if thou answer not, I will strip off thy clothes.' 'Ask\non,' quoth the Khalif; and she said, 'Which verse of the\nKoran has in it three-and-twenty Kafs,[FN#298] which sixteen\nMims,[FN#299] which a hundred and forty Ains,[FN#300] and which\nsection[FN#301] lacks the formula, \"To whom [God] belong might\nand majesty\"?' He could not answer, and she said to him, 'Put\noff thy clothes.' So he doffed them, and she said, 'O Commander\nof the Faithful, the verse of the sixteen Mims is in the\nchapter Houd and is the saying of the Most High, \"It was\nsaid, 'O Noah, go down in peace from us, and blessing upon\nthee!'\"[FN#302]; that of the three-and-twenty Kafs is the verse\ncalled of the Faith, in the chapter of the Cow; that of the\nhundred and forty Ains is in the chapter of El Aaraf,[FN#303]\n\"And Moses chose seventy men of his tribe to [attend] our\nappointed time;[FN#304] to each man a pair of eyes.\"[FN#305]\nAnd the set portion which lacks the formula, \"To whom [God]\nbelong might and majesty,\" is that which comprises the chapters\n\"The Hour draweth nigh and the Moon is cloven in twain,\" \"The\nCompassionate\" and \"The Event.\"'[FN#306] And the professor\ndeparted in confusion.\n\nThen came forward the skilled physician and said to her, 'We\nhave done with theology and come now to physiology. Tell me,\ntherefore, how is man made, how many veins, bones and vertebr\u00e6\nare there in his body, which is the chief vein and why Adam was\nnamed Adam?' 'Adam was called Adam,' answered she, 'because of\nthe udmeh, to wit, the tawny colour of his complexion and also\n(it is said) because he was created of the adim of the earth,\nthat is to say, of the soil of its surface. His breast was made\nof the earth of the Kaabeh, his head of earth from the East and\nhis legs of earth from the West. There were created for him\nseven doors [or openings] in his head, to wit, the eyes, the\nears, the nostrils and the mouth, and two passages, the urethra\nand the anus. The eyes were made the seat of the sense of\nsight, the ears of that of hearing, the nostrils of that of\nsmell, the mouth of that of taste and the tongue to speak forth\nwhat is in the innermost heart of man. Adam was originally\ncreated of four elements combined, water, earth, fire and air.\nThe yellow bile is the humour of fire, being hot and dry, the\nblack bile that of earth, being cold and dry, the phlegm that\nof water, being cold and moist, and the blood that of air,\nbeing hot and moist. There are in man three hundred and\nthreescore veins, two hundred and forty bones and three souls\n[or natures], the animal, the rational and the essential or\n[natural], to each of which is allotted a separate function.\nMoreover, God made him a heart and spleen and lungs and six\nguts and a liver and two kidneys and marrow [or brain] and\nbuttocks and bones and skin and five senses, hearing, seeing,\nsmell, taste and touch. The heart He set on the left side of\nthe breast and made the stomach the exemplar [or governor]\nthereof. He appointed the lungs for a ventilator to the heart\nand set the liver on the right side, opposite thereto. Moreover,\nHe made, besides this, the midriff and the intestines and set\nup the bones of the breast and ribbed them with the ribs.'\n(Q.) 'How many ventricles are there in a man's head?' (A.) 'Three,\nwhich contain five faculties, styled the intrinsic senses, i.e.\ncommon sense, fancy, thought, apperception and memory.' (Q.)\n'Describe to me the scheme of the bones.' (A.) 'It consists of\ntwo hundred and forty bones, which are divided into three parts,\nthe head, the trunk and the extremities. The head is divided\ninto skull and face. The skull is constructed of eight bones,\nand to it are attached the teeth, two-and- thirty in number,\nand the hyo\u00efd bone, one. The trunk is divided into spinal column,\nbreast and basin. The spinal column is made up of four-and-twenty\nbones, called vertebr\u00e6, the breast of the breastbone and the ribs,\nwhich are four-and-twenty in number, twelve on each side, and\nthe basin of the hips, the sacrum and the coccyx. The extremities\nare divided into arms and legs. The arms are again divided into\nshoulder, comprising shoulder-blades and collar-bone, the upper-\narm, one bone, the fore-arm, composed of two bones, the radius and\nthe ulna, and the hand, consisting of the wrist, the metacarpus\nand the fingers. The wrist is composed of eight bones, ranked in\ntwo rows, each comprising four bones; the metacarpus of five\nand the fingers, which are five in number, of three bones each,\ncalled the phalanges, except the thumb, which has but two.\nThe lower extremities are divided into thigh, one bone, leg,\ncomposed of three bones, the tibia, the fibula and the kneepan,\nand the foot, divided like the hand, with the exception of the\nwrist,[FN#307] which is composed of seven bones, ranged in two\nrows, two in one and five in the other.' (Q.) 'Which is the\nroot of the veins?' (A.) 'The aorta from which they ramify, and\nthey are many, none knoweth the tale of them save He who\ncreated them; but, as I have before observed, it is said that\nthey are three hundred and threescore in number. Moreover, God\nhath appointed the tongue to interpret [for the thought], the\neyes to serve as lanterns, the nostrils to smell with, and the\nhands for prehensors. The liver is the seat of pity, the spleen\nof laughter and the kidneys of craft; the lungs are the\nventilators, the stomach the storehouse and the heart the\npillar [or mainstay] of the body. When the heart is sound, the\nwhole body is sound, and when the heart is corrupt, the whole\nbody is corrupt.' (Q.) 'What are the outward signs and symptoms\nof disease in the members of the body, both internal and\nexternal?' (A.) 'A physician, who is a man of understanding,\nlooks into the state of the body and is guided by the feel of\nthe hands, according as they are firm [or flabby], hot or cool,\nmoist or dry. Internal disorders are also indicated by external\nsymptoms, such as yellowness of the [whites of the] eyes, which\ndenotes jaundice, and bending of the back, which denotes\ndisease of the lungs.' (Q.) 'What are the internal symptoms of\ndisease?' (A.) 'The science of the diagnosis of disease by\ninternal symptoms is founded upon six canons, to wit, (1) the\nactions [of the patient] (2) what is evacuated from his body\n(3) the nature and (4) site of the pain he feels (5) swelling\nand (6) the effluvia given off by his body.' (Q.) 'How cometh\nhurt to the head?' (A.) 'By the introduction of food upon food,\nbefore the first be digested, and by satiety upon satiety; this\nit is that wasteth peoples. He who will live long, let him be\nearly with the morning-meal and not late with the evening-meal;\nlet him be sparing of commerce with women and chary of cupping\nand blood-letting and make of his belly three parts, one for\nfood, one for drink and the third for air; for that a man's\nintestines are eighteen spans in length and it befits that he\nappoint six for food, six for drink, and six for air. If he\nwalk, let him go gently; it will be wholesomer for him and\nbetter for his body and more in accordance with the saying of\nGod the Most High, \"Walk not boisterously [or proudly] upon the\nearth.\"'[FN#308] (Q.) 'What are the symptoms of yellow bile and\nwhat is to be feared there-from?' (A.) 'The symptoms are,\nsallow complexion and dryness and bitter taste in the mouth,\nfailure of the appetite, and rapid pulse; and the patient has\nto fear high fever and delirium and prickly heat and jaundice\nand tumour and ulceration of the bowels and excessive thirst.'\n(Q.) 'What are the symptoms of black bile and what has the\npatient to fear from it, if it get the mastery of the body?'\n(A.) 'The symptoms are deceptive appetite and great mental\ndisquiet and care and anxiety; and it behoves that it be\nevacuated, else it will generate melancholy and leprosy and\ncancer and disease of the spleen and ulceration of the bowels.'\n(Q.) 'Into how many branches is the art of medicine divided?'\n(A.) 'Into two: the art of diagnosing diseases and that of\nrestoring the diseased body to health.' (Q.) 'When is the\ndrinking of medicine more efficacious than otherwhen?' (A.)\n'When the sap runs in the wood and the grape thickens in\nthe cluster and the auspicious planets[FN#309] are in the\nascendant, then comes in the season of the efficacy of drinking\nmedicine and the doing away of disease.' (Q.) 'What time is it,\nwhen, if a man drink from a new vessel, the drink is wholesomer\nand more digestible to him than at another time, and there\nascends to him a pleasant and penetrating fragrance?' (A.)\n'When he waits awhile after eating, as quoth the poet:\n\nI rede thee drink not after food in haste, but tarry still;\n     Else with a halter wilt thou lead thy body into ill.\nYea, wait a little after thou hast eaten, brother mine; Then\n     drink, and peradventure thus shalt thou attain unto thy\n     will.'\n\n\n(Q.) 'What food is it that giveth not rise to ailments?' (A.)\n'That which is not eaten but after hunger, and when it is\neaten, the ribs are not filled with it, even as saith Galen the\nphysician, \"Whoso will take in food, let him go slowly and he\nshall not go wrong.\" To end with the saying of the Prophet,\n(whom God bless and preserve,) \"The stomach is the home of\ndisease, and abstinence is the beginning[FN#310] of cure,\n[FN#311] for the origin of every disease is indigestion,\nthat is to say, corruption of the meat in the stomach.\"' (Q.)\n'What sayst thou of the bath?' (A.) 'Let not the full man enter\nit. Quoth the Prophet, \"The bath is the delight of the house,\nfor that it cleanseth the body and calleth to mind the fire [of\nhell].\"' (Q.) 'What waters[FN#312] are best for bathing?' (A.)\n'Those whose waters are sweet and plains wide and whose air is\npleasant and wholesome, its climate [or seasons] being fair,\nautumn and summer and winter and spring.' (Q.) 'What kind of\nfood is the most excellent?' (A.) 'That which women make and\nwhich has not cost overmuch trouble and which is readily\ndigested. The most excellent of food is brewis,[FN#313]\naccording to the saying of the Prophet, \"Brewis excels other\nfood, even as Aa\u00efsheh excels other women.\"' (Q.) 'What kind of\nseasoning[FN#314] is most excellent?' (A.) 'Flesh meat (quoth\nthe Prophet) is the most excellent of seasonings; for that it\nis the delight of this world and the next.' (Q.) 'What kind of\nmeat is the most excellent?' (A.) 'Mutton; but jerked meat is\nto be avoided, for there is no profit in it.' (Q.) 'What of\nfruits?' (A.) 'Eat them in their prime and leave them when\ntheir season is past.' (Q.) 'What sayst thou of drinking\nwater?' (A.) 'Drink it not in large quantities nor by gulps,\nor it will give thee the headache and cause divers kinds of\nharm; neither drink it immediately after the bath nor after\ncopulation or eating (except it be after the lapse of fifteen\nminutes for a young and forty for an old man) or waking from\nsleep.' (Q.) 'What of drinking wine?' (A.) 'Doth not the\nprohibition suffice thee in the Book of God the Most High,\nwhere He saith, \"Verily, wine and casting lots and idols and\ndivining arrows are an abomination of the fashion of the Devil:\nshun them, so surely shall ye thrive.\"[FN#315] And again, \"If\nthey ask thee of wine and casting lots, say, 'In them are great\nsin and advantages to mankind, but the sin of them is greater\nthan the advantage.'\"[FN#316] Quoth the poet:\n\nO wine-bibber, art not ashamed and afraid To drink of a thing\n     that thy Maker forbade?\nCome, put the cup from thee and mell with it not, For wine and\n     its drinker God still doth upbraid.\n\nAnd quoth another:\n\nI drank the sweet sin till my wit went astray: 'Tis ill\n     drinking of that which doth reason away.\n\nAs for the useful qualities that are therein, it disperses\ngravel from the kidneys and strengthens the bowels, banishes\ncare, moves to generosity and preserves health and digestion.\nIt assains the body, expels disease from the joints, purifies\nthe frame of corrupt humours, engenders cheerfulness and\ngladdens and keeps up the natural heat. It contracts the\nbladder, strengthens the liver and removes obstructions,\nreddens the face, clears away cobwebs from the brain and defers\ngray hairs. In short, had not God (to whom belong might and\nmajesty) forbidden it, there were not on the face of the earth\naught fit to stand in its place. As for drawing lots, it is a\ngame of hazard.'[FN#317] (Q.) 'What wine is the best?' (A.)\n'That which is pressed from white grapes and ferments fourscore\ndays or more: it resembleth not water and indeed there is\nnothing on the surface of the earth like unto it.' (Q.) 'What\nof cupping?' (A.) 'It is for him who is [over] full of blood\nand has no defect therein. Whoso will be cupped, let it be at\nthe wane of the moon, on a day without cloud or wind or rain\nand the seventeenth of the month. If it fall on a Tuesday, it\nwill be the more efficacious, and nothing is more salutary for\nthe brain and eyes and for clearing the memory than cupping.'\n(Q.) 'What is the best time for cupping?' (A.) 'One should be\ncupped fasting, for this fortifies the wit and the memory. It\nis reported of the Prophet that, when any one complained to him\nof a pain in the head or legs, he would bid him be cupped and\nnot eat salt [meat] fasting, for it engendered scurvy, neither\neat sour milk immediately after [cupping].' (Q.) 'When is\ncupping to be avoided?' (A.) 'On Wednesdays and Saturdays, and\nlet him who is cupped on these days blame none but himself.\nMoreover, one should not be cupped in very hot nor in very cold\nweather; and the best season for cupping is Spring.' (Q.) 'Tell\nme of copulation.'\n\nAt this Taweddud hung her head, for shame and confusion before\nthe Khalif; then said, 'By Allah, O Commander of the Faithful,\nit is not that I am at fault, but that I am ashamed, though,\nindeed, the answer is on the tip of my tongue.' 'Speak, O\ndamsel,' said the Khalif; whereupon quoth she, 'Copulation hath\nin it many and exceeding virtues and praiseworthy qualities,\namongst which are, that it lightens a body full of black bile\nand calms the heat of love and engenders affection and dilates\nthe heart and dispels sadness; and the excess of it is more\nharmful in summer and autumn than in spring and winter.' (Q.)\n'What are its good effects?' (A.) 'It doth away trouble and\ndisquiet, calms love and chagrin and is good for ulcers in a\ncold and dry humour; but excess of it weakens the sight and\nengenders pains in the legs and head and back: and beware,\nbeware of having to do with old women, for they are deadly.\nQuoth the Imam Ali,[FN#318] (whose face God honour), \"Four\nthings kill and ruin the body: bathing on a full stomach,\neating salt meat, copulation on a plethora [of blood] and lying\nwith an ailing woman; for she will weaken thy strength and\ninfect thy body with sickness; and an old woman is deadly\npoison.\" And quoth one of them, \"Beware of taking an old woman\nto wife, though she be richer in goods than Caroun.\"'[FN#319]\n(Q.) 'What is the best copulation?' (A.) 'If the woman be\nyoung, well-shaped, fair of face, swelling-breasted and of\nhonourable extraction, she will add to thee strength and health\nof body; and let her be even as saith the poet, describing her:\n\nEven by thy looks, I trow, she knows what thou desir'st, By\n     instinct, without sign or setting forth of sense;\nAnd when thou dost behold her all-surpassing grace, Her charms\n     enable thee with gardens to dispense.'\n\n(Q.) 'At what time is copulation good?' (A.) 'If by day, after\nthe morning-meal, and if by night, after food digested.' (Q.)\n'What are the most excellent fruits?' (A.) 'The pomegranate and\nthe citron.' (Q.) 'Which is the most excellent of vegetables?'\n(A.) 'The endive.' (Q.) 'Which of sweet-scented flowers?'\n(A.) 'The rose and the violet.' (Q.) 'How is sperma hominis\nsecreted?' (A.) 'There is in man a vein that feeds all the\nother veins. Water [or blood] is collected from the three\nhundred and threescore veins and enters, in the form of red\nblood, the left testicle, where it is decocted, by the heat of\nman's temperament, into a thick, white liquid, whose odour is\nas that of the palm-spathe.' (Q.) 'What bird [or flying thing]\nis it that emits seed and menstruates?' (A.) 'The bat, that is,\nthe rere-mouse.' (Q.) 'What is that which, when it is shut out\n[from the air], lives, and when it smells the air, dies?' (A.)\n'The fish.' (Q.) 'What serpent lays eggs?' (A.) 'The dragon.'\n\nWith this the physician was silent, being weary with much\nquestioning, and Taweddud said to the Khalif, 'O Commander of\nthe Faithful, he hath questioned me till he is weary, and now I\nwill ask him one question, which if he answer not, I will take\nhis clothes as lawful prize.' 'Ask on,' quoth the Khalif. So\nshe said to the physician, 'What is that which resembles the\nearth in [plane] roundness, whose resting-place and spine are\nhidden, little of value and estimation, narrow-chested, its\nthroat shackled, though it be no thief nor runaway slave,\nthrust through and through, though not in fight, and wounded,\nthough not in battle; time eats its vigour and water wastes it\naway; now it is beaten without a fault and now made to serve\nwithout stint; united after separation, submissive, but not to\nhim who caresses it, pregnant[FN#320] without a child in its\nbelly, drooping, yet not leaning on its side, becoming dirty\nyet purifying itself, cleaving to [its mate], yet changing,\ncopulating without a yard, wrestling without arms, resting and\ntaking its ease, bitten, yet not crying out, [now] more\ncomplaisant than a boon-companion and [anon] more troublesome\nthan summer-heat, leaving its wife by night and clipping her\nby day and having its abode in the corners of the mansions of\nthe noble?' The physician was silent and his colour changed and\nhe bowed his head awhile in perplexity and made no reply;\nwhereupon she said to him, 'O physician, speak or put off thy\nclothes.' At this, he rose and said, 'O Commander of the\nFaithful, bear witness against me that this damsel is more\nlearned than I in medicine and what else and that I cannot cope\nwith her.' And he put off his clothes and fled forth. Quoth the\nKhalif to Taweddud, 'Expound to us thy riddle,' and she\nreplied, 'O Commander of the Faithful, it is the button and the\nbutton loop.'\n\nThen said she, 'Let him of you who is an astronomer come\nforward.' So the astronomer came forward and sat down before\nher. When she saw him, she laughed and said, 'Art thou the\nastronomer, the mathematician, the scribe?' 'Yes,' answered he.\n'Ask of what thou wilt,' quoth she; 'success rests with God.'\nSo he said, 'Tell me of the sun and its rising and setting?'\nAnd she replied, 'The sun rises in the Eastern hemisphere and\nsets in the Western, and each hemisphere comprises ninescore\ndegrees. Quoth God the Most High, \"Verily, I swear by the Lord\nof the places of the sunrise and of the sunsetting.\"[FN#321]\nAnd again, \"He it is who appointed the sun for a splendour and\nthe moon for a light and ordained to her mansions, that ye\nmight know the number of the years and the reckoning.\"[FN#322]\nThe moon is Sultan of the night and the sun Sultan of the day,\nand they vie with one another in their courses and follow each\nother in uninterrupted succession. Quoth God the Most High, \"It\nbefits not that the sun overtake the moon nor that the night\nprevent the day, but each glides in [its own] sphere.\"'[FN#323]\n(Q.) 'When the day cometh, what becomes of the night, and what\nof the day, when the night cometh?' (A.) 'He maketh the night\nto enter into the day and the day into the night.'[FN#324] (Q.)\n'Enumerate to me the mansions of the moon.' (A.) 'They are\neight-and-twenty in number, to wit, Sheretan, Butain, Thureya,\nDeberan, Heca\u00e4h, Hena\u00e4h, Dhiraa, Nethreh, Terf, Jebheh, Zubreh,\nSerfeh, Awwaa, Simak and Ghefr, Zubaniya, Iklil, Kelb, Shauleh,\nNaa\u00efm, Beldeh, Saad edh Dhabih, Saad el Bulaa, Saad el Akhbiyeh,\nSaad es Suwoud, Fergh the Former and Fergh the Latter and Rishaa.\nThey are disposed in the order of the letters of the alphabet,\naccording to their numerical power, and there are in them secret\nvirtues which none knoweth save God (glorified  and exalted be\nHe) and those who are firmly stablished in science. They are\ndivided among the twelve signs of the Zodiac, in the ratio of two\nmansions and a third of a mansion to each sign. Thus Sheretan,\nButain and one-third of Thureya belong to Aries, the other two-\nthirds of Thureya, Deberan and two thirds of Heca\u00e4h to Taurus,\nthe other third of Heca\u00e4h, Hena\u00e4h and Dhiraa to Gemini, Nethreh,\nTerf, and a third of Jebheh to Cancer, the other two-thirds of\nJebheh, Zubreh and two-thirds of Serfeh to Leo, the other third\nof Serfeh, Awwaa and Simak to Virgo, Ghefr, Zubaniya and one-third\nof Iklil to Libra, the other two-thirds of Iklil, Kelb and two-\nthirds of Shauleh to Scorpio, the other third of Shauleh, Naa\u00efm\nand Beldeh to Sagittarius, Saad edh Dhabih, Saad el Bulaa and\none-third of Saad es Suwoud to Capricorn, the other two-thirds\nof Saad es Suwoud, Saad el Akbiyeh and two-thirds of Fergh the\nFormer to Aquarius, the other third of Fergh the Former, Fergh\nthe Latter and Rishaa to Pisces.' (Q.) 'Tell me of the planets\nand their natures, also of their sojourn in the signs of the\nZodiac, their aspects, favourable and sinister, their houses,\nascendants and descendants.' (A.) 'The sitting is narrow [for\nso comprehensive a matter], but they are seven in number, to\nwit, the sun, the moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and\nSaturn. The sun is hot and dry, sinister in conjunction,\nfavourable in opposition, and abides thirty days in each sign.\nThe moon is cold and moist, favourable of aspect, and abides\ntwo days in each sign and a third of another day. Mercury is of\na mixed nature, favourable [in conjunction] with the favourable\nand sinister [in conjunction] with the sinister [asterisms],\nand abides in each sign seventeen and a half days. Venus is\ntemperate, favourable and abides in each sign five-and-twenty\ndays. Mars is sinister and abides in each sign ten months.\nJupiter is favourable and abides in each sign a year. Saturn is\ncold and dry and sinister and abides in each sign thirty\nmonths. The house of the sun is Leo, its ascendant is Aries and\nits descendant Aquarius. The moon's house is Cancer, its\nascendant Taurus, its descendant Scorpio and its sinister\naspect Capricorn. Saturn's house is Capricorn and Aquarius, its\nascendant Libra, its descendant Aries and its sinister aspects\nCancer and Leo. Jupiter's house is Pisces and Sagittarius, its\nascendant Cancer, its descendant Capricorn and its sinister\naspects Gemini and Leo. Venus's house is Taurus, its ascendant\nPisces, its descendant Libra and its sinister aspects Aries and\nScorpio. Mercury's house is Gemini and Virgo, its ascendant\nVirgo, its descendant Pisces and its sinister aspect Taurus.\nMars's house is Aries and Scorpio, its ascendant Capricorn, its\ndescendant Cancer and its sinister aspect Libra.'\n\nWhen the astronomer saw her acuteness and skill and heard her\nfair answers, he bethought him for a device to confound her\nbefore the Commander of the Faithful and said to her, 'O\ndamsel, will rain fall this month?' At this she bowed her head\nand pondered so long, that the Khalif thought her at a loss for\nan answer and the astronomer said to her, 'Why dost thou not\nspeak?' Quoth she, 'I will not speak except the Commander of\nthe Faithful give me leave.' The Khalif laughed and said, 'How\nso?' Said she, 'I would have thee give me a sword, that I may\nstrike off his head, for he is an infidel.' At this the Khalif\nand those about him laughed, and she said, 'O astronomer, there\nare five things that none knoweth save God the Most High;' and\nshe repeated the following verse: 'Verily, with God is the\nknowledge of the hour; He sendeth down the rain and knoweth\nwhat is in the wombs. None knoweth what the morrow shall bring\nforth for him nor in what land he shall die. Verily, God is the\nAll-wise, the All-knowing.'[FN#325]\n\nQuoth the astronomer, 'Thou hast said well, and by Allah, I\nthought but to try thee.' 'Know,' rejoined she, 'that the\nalmanack-makers have certain signs and tokens, referring to the\nplanets, relative to the coming in of the year, and in which\nare tribulations for the folk.' (Q.) 'What are they?' (A.)\n'Each day hath a planet that rules it. So, if the first day of\nthe year fall on a Sunday, that day is the sun's and this\nportends (though God alone is All-knowing) oppression of kings\nand sultans and governors and much miasma and lack of rain and\nthat the folk will be in great disorder and the grain-crop will\nbe good, except lentils, which will perish, and the vines will\nrot and flax will be dear and wheat cheap from the beginning of\nToubeh[FN#326] to the end of Beremhat.[FN#327] Moreover, in\nthis year there will be much fighting among kings, and there\nshall be great plenty of good in this year.' (Q.) 'What if the\nfirst day fall on Monday?' (A.) 'That day belongs to the moon\nand portends righteousness in administrators and deputies and\nthat it will be a year of much rain and grain-crops will be\ngood, but linseed will decay and wheat will be cheap in the\nmonth Keyehk;[FN#328] also that plagues will be rife and\nthat half the sheep and goats will die, that grapes will be\nplentiful and honey scarce and cotton cheap.' (Q.) 'What if it\nfall on Tuesday?' (A.) 'That is Mars's day and portends death\nof great men and much destruction and outpouring of blood and\ndearness of grain, lack of rain and scarcity of fish, which\nwill anon be in excess and anon fail [altogether]. In this\nyear, lentils and honey will be cheap and linseed dear and only\nbarley will thrive, to the exception of all other grain: great\nwill be the fighting among kings and death will be in the blood\nand there will be much mortality among asses.' (Q.) 'What if it\nfall on Wednesday?' (A.) 'That is Mercury's day and portends\ngreat anarchy among the folk and much enmity and rotting of\nsome of the green crops and moderate rains; also that there\nwill be great mortality among cattle and infants and much\nfighting by sea, that wheat will be dear from Burmoudeh to\nMisra[FN#329] and other grains cheap: thunder and lightning\nwill abound and honey will be dear, palm-trees will thrive and\nbear apace and flax and cotton will be plentiful, but radishes\nand onions will be dear.' (Q.) 'What if it fall on Thursday?'\n(A.) 'That is Jupiter's day and portends equity in viziers and\nrighteousness in Cadis and fakirs and the ministers of religion\nand that good will be plentiful: rain and fruits and trees and\ngrain and fish will abound and flax, cotton, honey and grapes\nbe cheap.' (Q.) 'What if it fall on Friday?' (A.) 'That day\nbelongs to Venus and portends oppression in the chiefs of the\nJinn and talk of forgery and calumny; there will be much dew,\nthe autumn crops will be good in the land and there will be\ncheapness in one town and not in another: lewdness will be\nrife by land and sea, linseed will be dear, also wheat, in\nHatour,[FN#330] but cheap in Amshir:[FN#331] honey will be\ndear and grapes and melons will rot.' (Q.) 'What if it fall\non Saturday?' (A.) 'That is Saturn's day and portends the\npreferment of slaves and Greeks and those in whom there is no\ngood, neither in their neighbourhood; there will be great\ndrought and scarcity; clouds will abound and death will be rife\namong mankind and woe to the people of Egypt and Syria from the\noppression of the Sultan and failure of blessing upon the green\ncrops and rotting of grain.'\n\nWith this, the astronomer hung his head, [being at an end of\nhis questions], and she said to him, 'O astronomer, I will ask\nthee one question, which if thou answer not, I will take thy\nclothes.' 'Ask on,' replied he. Quoth she, 'Where is Saturn's\ndwelling place?' And he answered, 'In the seventh heaven.' (Q.)\n'And that of Jupiter?' (A.) 'In the sixth heaven.' (Q.) 'And\nthat of Mars?' (A.) 'In the fifth heaven.' (Q.) 'And that of\nthe sun?' (A.) 'In the fourth heaven.' (Q.) 'And that of\nVenus?' (A.) 'In the third heaven.' (Q.) 'And that of Mercury?'\n(A.) 'In the second heaven.' (Q.) 'And that of the moon?' (A.)\n'In the first heaven.' Quoth she, 'Well answered; but I have\none more question to ask thee. Into how many parts are the\nstars divided?' But he was silent and answered nothing; and she\nsaid to him, 'Put off thy clothes.' So he put them off and she\ntook them; after which the Khalif said to her, 'Tell us the\nanswer to thy question.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,'\nanswered she, 'the stars are divided into three parts, one\nwhereof is hung in the sky of the earth,[FN#332] as it were\nlamps, to give light to the earth, another suspended in the\nair, to give light to the seas and that which is therein, and\nthe third is used to transfix the demons withal, when they draw\nnear by stealth to [listen to the talk of the angels in]\nheaven. Quoth God the Most High, \"Verily, we have decked the\nsky of the earth with lamps and have appointed them for\nprojectiles against the demons.\"'[FN#333] Quoth the astronomer,\n'I have one more question to ask, which if she answer, I will\navow myself beaten.' 'Say on,' answered she. Then said he,\n'What four incompatible things are based upon other four\nincompatibles?' 'The four elements,' replied she; 'for of heat\nGod created fire, which is by nature hot and dry; of dryness,\nearth, which is cold and dry; of cold, water, which is cold and\nmoist; of moisture, air, which is hot and moist. Moreover, He\ncreated twelve signs of the Zodiac, Aries, Taurus, Gemini,\nCancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn,\nAquarius and Pisces and appointed them of four [several]\nhumours, three, Aries, Leo and Sagittarius, fiery, Taurus, Virgo\nand Capricorn, earthy, Gemini, Libra and Aquarius, airy, and\nCancer, Scorpio and Pisces, watery.' With this, the astronomer\nrose, and saying, 'Bear witness against me that she is more\nlearned than I,' went away beaten.\n\nThen said the Khalif, 'Where is the philosopher?' whereupon one\ncame forward and said to Taweddud, 'What is Time?' 'Time,'\nanswered she, 'is a name applied to the [lapse of the] hours of\nthe day and night, which are but the measures of the courses of\nthe sun and moon in their several orbits, even as God the Most\nHigh telleth us, when he saith, \"And a sign to them [is] the\nnight, from which we strip off the day, and behold, they are in\ndarkness, and the sun runneth to a fixed abode, [appointed] to\nit; this is the ordinance of the Sublime, the All-knowing.\"'\n[FN#334] (Q.) 'How comes unbelief to the son of Adam?' (A.) 'It\nis reported of the Prophet that he said, \"Unbelief runs in a man,\nas the blood runs in the veins, when he reviles the world and Time\nand night and the hour.\" And again, \"Let none of you revile Time,\nfor Time is God; neither the world, for it saith, 'May God not\nhelp him that reviles me!' neither the hour, for 'Verily, the hour\ncometh, without doubt;'[FN#335] neither the earth, for it is a\nportent, according to the saying of the Most High, 'From it we\ncreated you, to it we will return you and from it we will bring\nyou forth yet again.'\"'[FN#336] (Q.) 'What are the five that ate\nand drank, yet came not out of loins nor belly?' (A.) 'Adam and\nSimeon and Salih's she-camel[FN#337] and Ishmael's ram and the\nbird that Abou Bekr the Truth-teller saw in the cave.'[FN#338]\n(Q.) 'Tell me of five that are in Paradise and are neither\nmortals, Jinn nor angels?' (A.) 'Jacob's wolf and the Seven\nSleepers' dog and Esdras's ass and Salih's camel and the\nProphet's mule.' (Q.) 'What man prayed a prayer neither on\nearth nor in heaven?' (A.) 'Solomon [son of David], when he\nprayed on his carpet, borne by the wind.' (Q.) 'A man once\nlooked at a handmaid in the morning, and she was unlawful to\nhim; but, at noonday, she became lawful to him. By mid-afternoon,\nshe was again unlawful, but at sundown, she was lawful to him.\nAt evensong, she was a third time unlawful, but by daybreak, she\nbecame once more lawful to him.' (A.) 'This was a man who looked\nat another's handmaid in the morning, and she was then unlawful\nto him, but at midday he bought her, and she became lawful to him.\nAt mid-afternoon he enfranchised her, and she became unlawful to\nhim, but at sundown he married her and she was again lawful to\nhim. At evensong, he divorced her and she was then a third time\nunlawful to him, but, next morning, at daybreak, he took her back,\nand she became once more lawful to him.' (Q.) 'Tell me what tomb\nfared on with him that lay buried therein?' (A.) 'The whale,\nwhen it had swallowed Jonah.' (Q.) 'What spot of ground is it,\nupon which the sun shone once, but will never again shine till\nthe Day of Judgment?' (A.) 'The bottom of the Red Sea, when Moses\nsmote it with his staff, and the sea clove asunder in twelve\nplaces, according to the number of the tribes; then the sun\nshone on the bottom and will do so never again till the Day of\nJudgment.' (Q.) 'What was the first skirt that trailed upon the\nsurface of the earth?' (A.) 'That of Hagar, out of shame before\nSarah, and it became a custom among the Arabs.' (Q.) 'What is\nthat which breathes without life?' (A.) 'Quoth God the Most\nHigh, \"By the morning, when it breathes!\"'[FN#339] (Q.) 'A\nnumber of pigeons came to a high tree and lighted, some on the\ntree and others under it. Said those on the tree to those on\nthe ground, \"If one of you come up to us, ye will be a third\npart of us [all] in number; and if one of us descend to you, we\nshall be like unto you in number.\" How many pigeons were there\nin all?' (A.) 'Twelve: seven alighted on the tree and five\nbeneath.'\n\nWith this the philosopher put off his clothes and fled forth:\nwhereupon she turned to those present and said, 'Which of you\nis the rhetorician that can discourse of all kinds of\nknowledge?' There came forward Ibrahim ben Siyyar and said to\nher, 'Think me not like the rest.' Quoth she, 'It is the more\nsure to me that thou wilt be beaten, for that thou art a\nboaster, and God will help me against thee, that I may strip\nthee of thy clothes. So, if thou sentest one to fetch thee\nwherewithal to clothe thyself, it would be well for thee.' 'By\nAllah,' cried he, 'I will assuredly conquer thee and make thee\na byword among the folk, generation after generation!' 'Do\npenance [in advance] for thy [void] oath,' rejoined she. Then\nsaid he, 'What five things did God create, before He made man?'\nAnd she replied, 'Water and earth and light and darkness and\nthe fruits [of the earth].' (Q.) 'What did God create with the\nhand of omnipotence?' (A.) 'The empyreal heaven and the tree\nTouba[FN#340] and Adam and the garden of Eden; these God\ncreated with the hand of His omnipotence; but to all other\ncreated things He said, \"Be,\"--and they were.' (Q.) 'Who is thy\nfather in Islam?' (A.) 'Mohammed, whom God bless and preserve!'\n(Q.) 'Who was the father [in Islam] of Mohammed?' (A.) 'Abraham\nthe Friend of God.' (Q.) 'What is the Faith of Islam?' (A.)\n'The professing that there is no god but God and that Mohammed\nis the apostle of God.' (Q.) 'What is thy first and thy last?'\n(A.) 'My first is troubled water[FN#341] and my last filthy\ncarrion. The first of me is dust and the last dust. Quoth the\npoet:\n\nCreated wast thou of the dust and didst a man become, Ready in\n     question and reply and fluent in debate.\nThen to the dust return'dst anon and didst become of it, For\n     that, in very deed, of dust at first thou wast create.'\n\n(Q.) 'What thing was it, whose first [state] was wood and its\nlast life?' (A.) 'Moses' rod, when he cast it on the ground and\nit became, by permission of God, a writhing serpent.'[FN#342]\n(Q.) 'What is the meaning of the verse in the Koran, \"And I\nhave other need [or occasion] for it\"?'[FN#343] (A.) 'He\n[Moses] was wont to plant his staff in the ground, and it would\nflower and fruit and shade him from the heat and the cold.\nMoreover, it would carry him, when he was weary, and guard his\nsheep from the wild beasts, whilst he slept.' (Q.) 'What woman\nwas born of a man alone and what man of a woman alone?' (A.) 'Eve\nof Adam and Jesus of Mary.' (Q.) 'What fire eats and drinks, what\nfire eats but drinks not, what fire drinks but eats not and what\nother neither eats nor drinks?' (A.) 'Hellfire eats and drinks,\nthe fire of the world eats but drinks not, the fire of the sun\ndrinks but eats not, and that of the moon neither eats nor drinks.'\n(Q.) 'Which is the open [door] and which the shut [door]?' (A.)\n'The Traditional Ordinances are the open, the Koranic the shut\n[door].' (Q.) 'Of what does the poet speak, when he says:\n\nA dweller in the sepulchre, at 's head his victual lies; Whenas\n     he tastes thereof, he speaks and questions and replies.\nHe rises up and walks and talks, yet silent is the while, And\n     turns anon unto the tomb wherefrom he did arise.\nNo living one is he, that hath a title to respect, Nor dead,\n     that folk should say of him, \"God's mercy him comprise!\"?'\n\n(A.) 'The pen.' (Q.) 'What does the poet refer to in these\nverses:\n\nTwo breasts in one it hath; its blood is eath and quick of\n     flow, Wide-mouthed, though all the rest be black, its ears\n     are white as snow.\nIt hath an idol like a cock, that doth its belly peck, And half\n     a dirhem is its worth, if thou its price wouldst know?'\n\n(A.) 'The inkhorn.' (Q.) 'And in these:\n\nSay to men of wit and learning and to doctors everywhere,\n     Skilled to find the hidden meanings riddles and enigmas\n     bear,\nCome expound to me what is it that ye see a bird produce,\n     'Mongst the Arabs and barbarians and wherever else ye\n     fare;\nNeither flesh nor blood, I warrant, hath the thing whereof I\n     speak; Neither down nor feathers, birdwise, for a garment\n     doth it wear.\nBoiled it is and likewise roasted, eaten hot and eaten cold;\n     Yea, to boot, and when 'tis buried in the glowing embers'\n     flare,\nColours twain in it are noted, one as silver clear and white,\n     And the other lucent yellow, gold therewith may not\n     compare.\nLiving can it not be reckoned, neither may we count it dead:\n     Tell me, then, what is this wonder, rarity of all things\n     rare?'\n\n(A.) 'Thou makest long the questioning of an egg worth a doit.'\n(Q.) 'How many words [or times] did God speak to Moses?' (A.)\n'It is related of the Prophet that he said, \"God spoke to Moses\nfifteen hundred and fifteen words [or times].\"' (Q.) 'Tell me\nof fourteen things that speak to the Lord of the Worlds?' (A.)\n'The seven heavens and the seven earths, when they say, \"We\ncome, obedient.\"'[FN#344] (Q.) 'How was Adam created?' (A.)\n'God created Adam of clay: the clay He made of foam and the\nfoam of the sea, the sea of darkness, darkness of light, light\nof a fish, the fish of a rock, the rock of a ruby, the ruby of\nwater, and the water He created by the exertion of His omnipotent\nwill, according to His saying (exalted be His name!), \"His\ncommandment is only when He willeth aught, that He say, 'Be,'\n--and it is.\"'[FN#345] (Q.) 'What is meant by the poet in the\nfollowing verses:\n\nA things sans mouth or maw that eats in wondrous wise; On trees\n     and beasts it feeds and all beneath the skies.\nGive it to eat, it thrives and flourishes amain; But give it\n     not to drink of water, or it dies?'\n\n(A.) 'Fire.' (Q.) 'And in these:\n\nTwo lovers, that are still estopped from all delight:\n     Embracing, each with each, they pass the livelong night.\nThey guarantee the folk from all calamity, And with the risen\n     sun they're torn apart forthright?'\n\n(A.) 'The leaves of a gate.' (Q.) 'Tell me of the gates of\nHell?' (A.) 'They are seven in number and their names are\ncomprised in the following verses:\n\nJehennem first, then Leza comes and eke Hetim as well; Then\n     must thou count Sa\u00efr, and fifth comes Seker, sooth to\n     tell:\nSixth comes Jehim and last of all, Hawiyeh; thus thou hast, In\n     compass brief of doggrel rhyme, the seven rooms of Hell.'\n\n(Q.) 'To what does the poet refer in these verses:\n\nA pair of ringlets long she hath, that trail for aye Behind\n     her, as she comes and goes upon her way,\nAnd eye that never knows the taste of sleep nor sheds A tear,\n     for none it hath for shedding, sooth to say;\nNor wears it aught of clothes, from year to ended year; Yet in\n     all manner wede it doth the folk array?'\n\n(A.) 'A needle.' (Q.) 'What is the length and breadth of the\nbridge Es Sirat?' (A.) 'Its length is three thousand years'\njourney, a thousand in descent, a thousand level and a thousand\nin ascent: it is sharper than a sword and finer than a hair.'\n(Q.) 'How many intercessions [with God] hath the Prophet [for\neach soul]?' (A.) 'Three.' (Q.) 'Was Abou Bekr the first that\nembraced Islam?' (A.) 'Yes.' (Q.) 'Yet Ali[FN#346] became a\nMuslim before him?' (A.) 'All came to the Prophet, when he was\na boy of seven years old, for God vouchsafed him the knowledge\nof the truth in his tender youth, so that he never prostrated\nhimself to idols.' (Q.) 'Which is the more excellent, Ali or\nAbbas?'[FN#347]\n\nNow she knew that, in propounding this question, Ibrahim was\nlaying a trap for her; for, if she said, 'Ali is the more\nexcellent,' she would fall in disgrace with the Khalif; so she\nbowed her head awhile, now reddening, now paling, then said,\n'Thou askest me of two excellent men, each having [his own\nespecial] excellence. Let us return to what we were about.'\nWhen the Khalif heard her reply, he rose to his feet and said,\n'By the Lord of the Kaabeh, thou hast said well, O Taweddud!'\nThen said Ibrahim, 'What means the poet, when he says:\n\nSlender of skirts and slim of shape and sweet of taste it is,\n     Most like unto the spear, except it lacks of the spontoon.\nIn all the countries of the world the folk make use of it, And\n     eaten 'tis in Ramazan, after mid-afternoon?'\n\nShe answered, 'The sugar-cane;' and he said, 'Tell me of many\nthings.' 'What are they?' asked she; and he said, 'What is\nsweeter than honey, what is sharper than the sword, what is\nswifter than poison, what is the delight of a moment and what\nthe contentment of three days, what is the pleasantest of days,\nwhat is the joy of a week, what is the debt that the worst\npayer denieth not, what is the prison of the tomb, what is the\njoy of the heart, what is the snare of the soul, what is death\nin life, what is the malady that may not be healed, what is the\nreproach that may not be done away, what is the beast that\nharbours not in cultivated fields, but lodges in waste places\nand hates mankind and hath in it somewhat of the make of seven\nstrong beasts?' Quoth she, 'Hear what I shall say in answer;\nthen put off thy clothes, that I may expound to thee.' Then the\nKhalif said, 'Expound, and he shall put off his clothes.' So\nshe said, 'That, which is sweeter than honey, is the love of\npious children to their parents; that, which is sharper than\nthe sword, is the tongue; that, which is swifter than poison,\nis the evil eye; the delight of a moment is coition and the\ncontentment of three days is the depilatory for women; the\npleasantest of days is that of profit on merchandise; the joy\nof a week is the bride; the debt, which the worst payer denieth\nnot, is death; the prison of the tomb is an ill son; the joy of\nthe heart is a woman obedient to her husband, (and it is said\nalso that, when fleshmeat descends upon the heart, it rejoiceth\ntherein); the snare [or vexation] of the soul is a disobedient\nslave; death in life is poverty; the malady, that may not be\nhealed, is an ill nature and the reproach, that may not be done\naway, is an ill daughter; lastly, the beast that harbours not\nin cultivated fields, but lodges in waste places and hates\nmankind and hath in it somewhat of the make of seven strong\nbeasts, is the locust, whose head is as the head of the horse,\nits neck as the neck of the bull, its wings as the wings of the\nvulture, its feet as the feet of the camel, its tail as the\ntail of the serpent, its body as the body of the scorpion and\nits horns as the horns of the gazelle.'\n\nThe Khalif was astounded at her quickness and understanding and\nsaid to Ibrahim, 'Put off thy clothes.' So he rose and said, 'I\ncall all who are present in this assembly to witness that she\nis more learned than I and all the learned men.' And he put off\nhis clothes and gave them to her, saying, 'Take them and may\nGod not bless them to thee!' The Khalif ordered him fresh\nclothes and said to Taweddud, 'There is one thing left of\nthat for which thou didst engage, namely, chess.' And he\nsent for professors of chess and draughts and backgammon. The\nchess-player sat down before her, and they set the pieces, and\nhe moved and she moved; but, every move he made she speedily\ncountered, till she beat him and he found himself check-mated.\nQuoth he, 'I did but lead thee on, that thou mightest think\nthyself skilful; but set up again, and I will show thee.' So\nthey placed the pieces a second time, and he said to himself,\n'Open thine eyes, or she will beat thee.' And he fell to moving\nno piece, save after calculation, and ceased not to play, till\nshe said, 'Check-mate.' When he saw this, he was confounded at\nher quickness and skill; but she laughed and said, 'O master,\nI will make a wager with thee on this third game. I will give\nthee the queen and the right-hand rook and the left-hand knight;\nif thou beat me, take my clothes, and if I beat thee, I will\ntake thine.' 'I agree to this,' replied he, and they replaced\nthe pieces, she giving him the queen, rook and knight. Then\nsaid she, 'Move, O master.' So he moved, saying in himself,\n'I cannot but win, with such an advantage,' and made a combination;\nbut she moved on, little by little, till she made one of her pawns\na queen and pushing up to him pawns and other pieces, to take off\nhis attention, set one in his way and tempted him with it.[FN#348]\nAccordingly, he took it and she said to him, 'The measure is meted\nout and the equilibrium established. Eat, O man, till thou pass\nrepletion; nought shall be thy ruin but greediness. Knowest thou\nnot that I did but tempt thee, that I might beguile thee? See:\nthis is check-mate: put off thy clothes.' 'Leave me my trousers,'\nquoth he, 'so God requite thee;' and he swore by Allah that he\nwould contend with none, so long as Taweddud abode at the Court\nof Baghdad. Then he took off his clothes and gave them to her\nand went away.\n\nThen came the backgammon-player, and she said to him, 'If I\nbeat thee, what wilt thou give me?' Quoth he, 'I will give thee\nten suits of brocade of Constantinople, figured with gold, and\nten suits of velvet and a thousand dinars, and if I beat thee,\nI ask nothing but that thou write me an acknowledgment thereof.'\n'To it, then,' replied she, 'and do thy best.' So they played,\nand he lost and went away, jabbering in the Frank jargon and\nsaying, 'By the bounty of the Commander of the Faithful, there\nis not her like in all the world!' Then the Khalif summoned\nplayers on instruments of music and said to her, 'Dost thou\nknow aught of music?' 'Yes,' answered she. So he bade bring\na peeled and polished lute, whose owner [or maker] was ground\ndown by exile [or estrangement from the beloved] and of which\nquoth one, describing it:\n\nGod watered a land and straight a tree sprang up on its root:\n     It cast forth branches and throve and flourished with many\n     a shoot.\nThe birds, when the wood was green, sang o'er it, and when it\n     was dry, Fair women sang to it in turn, for lo, 'twas a\n     minstrel's lute!\n\nSo they brought a bag of red satin, with tassels of\nsaffron-coloured silk: and she opened the bag, and took out a\nlute, on which were graven the following verses:\n\nFull many a tender branch a lute for singing-girl has grown,\n     Wherewith at banquets to her mates she makes melodious\n     moan.\nShe sings; it follows on her song, as 'twere to teach her how\n     Heart's troubles in clear perfect speech of music to make\n     known.\n\nShe laid her lute in her lap and letting her breasts hang over\nit, bent to it as bends a mother, suckling her child; then\npreluded in twelve different modes, till the whole assembly was\nagitated with delight, and sang the following verses:\n\nLeave your estrangement, I pray, and bid your cruelty hold,\n     For, by your life, my heart will never for you be\n     consoled.\nHave pity on one who weeps, afflicted and ever sad, A slave of\n     passion, who burns for thee with longings untold.\n\nThe Khalif was ravished and exclaimed, 'May God bless thee and\nreceive him who taught thee[FN#349] into His mercy!' Whereupon\nshe rose and kissed the earth before him. Then he sent for\nmoney and paid her master Aboulhusn a hundred thousand dinars\nto her price; after which he said to her, 'O Taweddud, ask a\nboon of me.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' replied she, 'I ask\nof thee that thou restore me to my lord who sold me to thee.'\n'It is well,' answered the Khalif and restored her to her\nmaster and gave her five thousand dinars for herself. Moreover,\nhe appointed Aboulhusn one of his boon-companions and assigned\nhim a monthly stipend of a thousand dinars so long as he should\nlive, and he abode with the damsel Taweddud in all delight of\nlife.\n\nMarvel then, O King, at the eloquence of this damsel and the\ngreatness of her learning and understanding and her perfect\nexcellence in all branches of knowledge, and consider the\ngenerosity of the Khalif Haroun er Reshid, in that he gave her\nmaster this money and said to her, 'Ask a boon of me;' and she\nbesought him to restore her to her lord. So he restored her to\nhim and gave her five thousand dinars for herself and made him\none of his boon-companions. Where is such generosity to be\nfound after the Abbaside Khalifs, may God the Most High have\nmercy upon them all!\n\n\n\n\n\nEnd of Vol. IV\n\n\n\n\n                   Arabian Nights, Volume 4\n                           Footnotes\n\n\n[FN#1] A very famous legist and wit of the eighth century and a\nprime favourite with Er Reshid. He was one of the chief pupils\nof the Imam Abou Henifeh (see note, Vol. II. p. 131 {see Vol. 2\nFN#91}) and was Cadi of Baghdad under the third, fourth and\nfifth Khalifs of the Abbaside dynasty.\n\n[FN#2] Shown in choosing so learned a Cadi.\n\n[FN#3] Governor of the two Iraks (i.e. Bassora and Cufa) in the\nreign of Hisham, tenth Khalif of the Ommiade dynasty (A.D.\n723-741). He was celebrated for his beneficence and liberality.\n\n[FN#4] Koran iii. 178, etc.\n\n[FN#5] \"The hand of a thief shall not be cut off for stealing\nless than a quarter of a dinar.\"--Mischat ul Masabih.\n\n[FN#6] El Asmai the poet, author or compiler of the well-known\nromance of Antar.\n\n[FN#7] Zanzibar (ant. Zengibar).\n\n[FN#8] The word Sherif (lit. noble) signifies strictly a\ndescendant of the martyr Hussein, son of the Khalif Ali; but it\nis here used in the sense of \"chief\" [of the bazaar].\n\n[FN#9] Qu\u00e6re Mensour en Nemri, a well-known poet of the time\nand (originally) a protege of Yehya's son, El Fezl.\n\n[FN#10] Intendant of the palace to Haroun er Reshid and captain\nof his guards.\n\n[FN#11] i.e. the Khalif\n\n[FN#12] i.e. As if he were an old Bedouin, with forehead\ndisfigured by the friction of the rope of camel's hair, which\nis part of the Bedouin headdress.\n\n[FN#13] Mohammed said, \"Change the whiteness of your hair, but\nnot with anything black.\" Henna is the approved hairdye for a\ntrue-believer; it changes the hair to a reddish-brown.\n\n[FN#14] i.e. thou that art as dear to me as my sight and\nhearing.\n\n[FN#15] A fountain of Paradise.\n\n[FN#16] Syn. languishing (munkesir).\n\n[FN#17] A river of Paradise.\n\n[FN#18] i.e. Orthodox.\n\n[FN#19] These words are a quotation from a well-known piece of\nverse.\n\n[FN#20] Of the Prophet.\n\n[FN#21] Usually made of palm-fibres.\n\n[FN#22] The distinctive headdress of the Muslims.\n\n[FN#23] The bridge that spans Hell, finer than a hair and\nsharper than a sword, and over which all must pass on the Day\nof Judgment.\n\n[FN#24] Or leader of the people at prayer, who stands opposite\nthe niche sunk into or painted on the wall of the mosque, to\nindicate the direction of Mecca.\n\n[FN#25] All this is an audacious parody of the Muslim ritual of\nprayer.\n\n[FN#26] Lit. \"exclamations of 'Glory be to God!'\" which are of\nfrequent recurrence in the Mohammedan formulas of prayer. See\nlast note.\n\n[FN#27] i.e. governor.\n\n[FN#28] The word ucwaneh, here used in the dual number, usually\ndesignates the teeth, in its common meaning of \"camomile-\nflower\": but the lips are here expressly mentioned, and this\nfact, together with that of the substitution, in the Breslau\nedition, of the word akikan (two cornelians or rubies) for\nucwanetan (two camomiles), as in the Calcutta and Boulac\neditions, shows that the word is intended to be taken in its\nrarer meaning of \"corn-marigold.\"\n\n[FN#29] Syn. Fortune (ez zeman).\n\n[FN#30] One of the tribes of the Arabs and that to which the\nrenowned Maan ben Zaideh (see Vol. III. p. 317, {Vol. 3,\nFN#121}) belonged.\n\n[FN#31] The Muslims accuse the Jews of having corrupted the\nPentateuch and others of their sacred books, even as the\nChristians the Gospels (see Vol. II. page 149, note {Vol. 2,\nFN#97}), by expunging or altering the passages foretelling the\ncoming of Mohammed.\n\n[FN#32] See Vol. I. p. 135, note 2. {Vol. 1, FN#45}\n\n[FN#33] i.e. as a martyr.\n\n[FN#34] The force of this comparison will best appear from the\nactual figuration of the Arabic double-letter Lam-Alif (Anglice\nL.A.) which is made up of the two letters *<arabic character>,\n(initial form of Lam) and *<arabic character> (final of Alif,)\nand is written thus, *<arabic character>.\n\n[FN#35] i.e. O thou, whose glance is as the light of the\nglowing embers.\n\n[FN#36] Thus figured in Arabic *<arabic character>.\n\n[FN#37] Thus *<arabic character>.\n\n[FN#38] Thus *<arabic character>.\n\n[FN#39] Koran xxvil. 12.\n\n[FN#40] Koran iii. 103.\n\n[FN#41] Koran xcii. 1,2.\n\n[FN#42] Sauda, feminine of aswed (black), syn. black bile\n(melancholia).\n\n[FN#43] The distinctive colour of which is white.\n\n[FN#44] Koran li. 26.\n\n[FN#45] Mohammed.\n\n[FN#46] Koran ii. 64, referring to an expiatory heifer which\nthe Jews were commanded, through Moses, to sacrifice.\n\n[FN#47] See note, Vol III. p. 104 {Vol. 3, FN#19}\n\n[FN#48] Sulafeh.\n\n[FN#49] Sewalif, plural of salifeh (equivalent of sulafeh). A\nplay upon the double meaning of the word is, of course,\nintended.\n\n[FN#50] Syn. yellowness (isfirar).\n\n[FN#51] A title of the Prophet.\n\n[FN#52] His wife Zubeideh.\n\n[FN#53] i.e. his beautiful slave-girls.\n\n[FN#54] i.e. his beautiful slave-girls.\n\n[FN#55] Title of Saladin (Selaheddin) and several other\nEyoubite Sultans of Egypt and Syria. It is equivalent to our\n\"Defender of the Faith.\"\n\n[FN#56] Koran xli. 46.\n\n[FN#57] A town of Upper Egypt.\n\n[FN#58] Meaning the merchant, whose name, Abou Jaafer or the\nlike, he had learnt from the tailor.\n\n[FN#59] Muslim Jews.\n\n[FN#60] A well-known jurist at Baghdad in the reign of the\nKhalif Mamoun.\n\n[FN#61] Medina.\n\n[FN#62] One of the gates of the great mosque there, wherein is\nthe tomb of the Prophet.\n\n[FN#63] Tenth Khalif of the Abbaside dynasty, A.D. 849-861.\n\n[FN#64] Muwelledat, women born in Muslim countries of\nslave-parents; syn. mulatto-women.\n\n[FN#65] Lieutenant of the Prefect of Baghdad.\n\n[FN#66] Muwelledat, women born in Muslim countries of\nslave-parents; syn. mulatto-women.\n\n[FN#67] El Hakim bi Amrillah, sixth Fatimite Khalif of Egypt\n(A.D. 995-1021), cruel and fantastic tyrant, who claimed to be\nan incarnation of the Deity. He was the founder of the religion\nof the Druses, who look to him to reappear and be their Messiah\n\n[FN#68] Bastard or Spanish pellitory.\n\n[FN#69] Or dyed.\n\n[FN#70] Or interlocking.\n\n[FN#71] Or torn.\n\n[FN#72] Sufreh, a round piece of leather used (mostly by\ntravellers) as a table-cloth and having a running string\ninserted round its edge, by means of which it can be converted\ninto a bag or budget for holding provisions, as in this\ninstance.\n\n[FN#73] Lower India.\n\n[FN#74] i.e. as master of the house in which I have sought\nshelter.\n\n[FN#75] Uns el Wujoud.\n\n[FN#76] A pun upon his name, Uns wa joud, pleasance and bounty.\n\n[FN#77] See supra, p. 95, note 3. {Vol. 4, FN#38}\n\n[FN#78] The fourteenth letter of the Arabic alphabet, in its\nmedial form (<arabic>) closely resembling an eye underlined\nwith kohl.\n\n[FN#79] See Note, Vol. III. p. 274. {Vol. 3, FN#102}\n\n[FN#80] i.e. in dreams..\n\n[FN#81] One of the months in which war was forbidden to the\npagan Arabs and a sort of Tr\u00e8ve de Dieu prevailed.\n\n[FN#82] The Arabic word fakir means literally, \"a poor man;\"\nbut it would appear, from what follows, that Uns el Wujoud had\ndisguised himself as a religious mendicant and was taken for\nsuch by the people of the castle.\n\n[FN#83] i.e. one absorbed in the contemplation of supra-\nterrestrial things.\n\n[FN#84] Uns el Wujoud.\n\n[FN#85] To salute them and wish them joy, according to Oriental\ncustom.\n\n[FN#86] Mosul is called the land of purity, in a religious\nsense, it having never been polluted with idolatrous worship.\n\n[FN#87] The people of Aleppo seem to have been noted for\ndebauchery.\n\n[FN#88] i.e. Do not express admiration openly, lest it attract\nthe evil eye, but vent your wonder by saying, \"God bless and\npreserve the Prophet!\" according to general Muslim wont.\n\n[FN#89] A gorge near Mecca, the scene of one of Mohammed's\nbattles.\n\n[FN#90] i.e. as made out of a crooked rib, according to the\ntradition.\n\n[FN#91] i.e. the land of the virgin.\n\n[FN#92] The word Jamia\u00efn means \"two congregational mosques,\"\nwhich would only be found in a large town like Baghdad. It is\npossible, therefore, that the expression, \"land of Jamia\u00efn,\"\nmay mean Baghdad or some other great city, noted for its\ndebauched manners.\n\n[FN#93] Oriental substitute for slate.\n\n\n[FN#94] A pre-Mohammedan poet.\n\n[FN#95] King of Hireh in Chald\u00e6a, a fantastic and bloodthirsty\ntyrant, whom he had lampooned.\n\n[FN#96] Aboulabbas er Recashi, a well-known poet of the time.\n\n[FN#97] Koran xxvi. 224, 5, 6.\n\n[FN#98] Half-brother of Abdallah ben ez Zubeir, the celebrated\npretender to the Khalifate, see Vol. III. p. 194, note 3. {Vol.\n3, FN#62}\n\n[FN#99] Grand-daughter of the Khalif Aboubekr and the most\nbeautiful woman of her day.\n\n[FN#100] A famous Medinan Traditionist of the eighth century.\n\n[FN#101] Er Zubeir ibn el Awwam, cousin-german to Mohammed and\none of his Companions.\n\n[FN#102] Abou Mohammed el Aamesh, a Cufan Traditionist of the\neighth century.\n\n[FN#103] A Traditionist of the seventh century.\n\n[FN#104] One of the Companions.\n\n[FN#105] Traditionists of the seventh and eighth centuries.\n\n[FN#106] Traditionists of the seventh and eighth centuries.\n\n[FN#107] Traditionists of the seventh and eighth centuries.\n\n[FN#108] Companions of the Prophet.\n\n[FN#109] Traditionists of the seventh and eighth centuries.\n\n[FN#110] Traditionists of the seventh and eighth centuries.\n\n[FN#111] Traditionists of the seventh and eighth centuries.\n\n[FN#112] Companions of the Prophet.\n\n[FN#113] A.D. 530-579. The founder of the great Persian dynasty\nof the Kisras (Chosro\u00ebs). Mohammed was born in the reign of\nthis monarch, whose name is a synonym with Eastern writers for\nall that is just and noble in a King.\n\n[FN#114] Wife of Mohammed.\n\n[FN#115] Daughter of Mohammed.\n\n[FN#116] Lit. \"of the ancestors,\" i.e. those pious and blessed\npersons who have gone before. The word es selef (the ancestors)\nis specially applied to Mohammed, his wife Aaisheh, the first\nthree Khalifs and certain other early Muslims.\n\n[FN#117] Khusrau Perviz, grandson of Kisra Anoushirwan (see\nsupra, p. 228). {Vol. 4, FN#113}\n\n[FN#118] The famous beauty, daughter of Maurice, Emperor of the\nEast, and heroine of Nizami's well-known poem.\n\n[FN#119] First cousin of Haroun er Reshid.\n\n[FN#120] Son and successor of Er Reshid.\n\n[FN#121] A well-known grammarian and traditionist of the time,\nafterwards governor of part of Khorassan, under the Khalif El\nMamoun.\n\n[FN#122] Intendant of the palace under Er Reshid.\n\n[FN#123] i.e. lover.\n\n[FN#124] Muslim version of Susannah and the Elders.\n\n[FN#125] Lit. O frosty-beard (fool), how frosty was thy beard!\n\n[FN#126] Descendant of the Prophet.\n\n[FN#127] Name of a tribe.\n\n[FN#128] A descendant of Ishmael, from whom the Arab\ngenealogists trace Mohammed's lineage.\n\n[FN#129] Koran xxxiii. 38.\n\n[FN#130] Koran xxxviii. 2.\n\n[FN#131] One of the Companions of the Prophet.\n\n[FN#132] Of the Prophet i.e. those who had personally known\nMohammed.\n\n[FN#133] i.e. the builders, who, in the East, use mud or clay\nfor mortar.\n\n[FN#134] About a penny.\n\n[FN#135] Mohammed.\n\n\n[FN#136] A woman's name.\n\n[FN#137] For putting out the fire in a brasier or\ncooking-stove.\n\n[FN#138] The last Kings of Hireh were Christians.\n\n[FN#139] A prae-Islamitic poet.\n\n[FN#140] King of Persia and En Numan's suzerain.\n\n[FN#141] A celebrated poet of the eighth and ninth centuries at\nthe court d the Abbaside Khalifs.\n\n[FN#142] A quarter of Baghdad.\n\n[FN#143] Another well-known poet of the time, Dibil's teacher\nand friend.\n\n[FN#144] Underground rooms are much used in Baghdad and Central\nAsia, for coolness' sake, in the season of the great heats.\n\n[FN#145] Dibil's surname.\n\n[FN#146] An idol of the pagan Arabs, before the coming of\nMohammed.\n\n[FN#147] In the attitude or a pupil before his master.\n\n[FN#148] i.e. heart's blood.\n\n[FN#149] A well-known poet, who flourished at Baghdad in the\nninth century\n\n[FN#150] Aboulabbas Mohammed ben Yezid eth Thumali, surnamed El\nMuberred, a famous Baghdad grammarian of the ninth century.\n\n[FN#151] A monastery in the town of Hemah in Syria, so called\nfrom the Emperor Heraclius, who retired thither, to end his.\ndays.\n\n[FN#152] These verses are addressed to the Prophet Mohammed.\n\n[FN#153] The most learned grammarian of his day. He flourished\nat Baghdad in the first half of the tenth century.\n\n[FN#154] Anatolia.\n\n[FN#155] The Lights.\n\n[FN#156] Servant of the Messiah.\n\n[FN#157] The monk.\n\n[FN#158] The desireful servant of God. Abdallah is the name\ncommonly given to a Christian convert to Islam. This question\nand answer are a good example of the jingle of rhymes so much\naffected by the Arabs.\n\n[FN#159] i.e. of gods (shirk).\n\n[FN#160] Koran vii. 195.\n\n[FN#161] i.e. saints.\n\n[FN#162] Koran x. 36.\n\n[FN#163] A well-known man of letters and one of El Mamoun's\nviziers.\n\n[FN#164] Prefect of Baghdad under El Mamoun.\n\n[FN#165] i.e. the persons in authority under them.\n\n[FN#166] Surname of Ali ben Hisham.\n\n[FN#167] A renowned chieftain and poet of the time of Mohammed.\n\n[FN#168] A famous singer and composer of the first century of\nthe Hegira.\n\n[FN#169] One of the greatest of Arab poets; he flourished in\nthe first century of the Hegira.\n\n[FN#170] i.e. as to the sound of music.\n\n[FN#171] Sixth of the Abbaside Khalifs, A.D. 809-813.\n\n[FN#172] See note, Vol. III. p. 324. {See Vol. 3, FN#130}.\n\n[FN#173] Tenth Abbaside Khalif, A.D. 849-861.\n\n[FN#174] Vizier and favourite of El Mutawekkil, killed A.D. 861\nwhilst endeavouring to defend the Khalif against the parricide\nEl Muntestr.\n\n[FN#175] Virginitatem tollere.\n\n[FN#176] Johannes, a Greek physician in high favour with El\nMutawekkil and others of the Abbaside Khalifs.\n\n[FN#177] i.e. Princess of the Doctors or men of learning.\n\n[FN#178] A.D. 1166.\n\n[FN#179] Or heads of the various sects or schools of religion.\n\n[FN#180] Koran iv. 38.\n\n[FN#171] As witness to a debt, Koran ii. 282.\n\n[FN#182] Koran iv. 175.\n\n[FN#183] Or \"eye-glance.\"\n\n[FN#184] Abou Temmam et Tai (of the tribe of Tai), a famous\npoet of the first half of the ninth century and postmaster at\nMosul under the Khalif Wathic Billah (commonly known as\nVathek), A.D. 842-849. He was the compiler of the famous\nanthology of ancient Arabian poetry, known as the Hemaseh\n(Hamasa).\n\n[FN#185] Aboulcasim el Heriri, the famous poet and grammarian,\nauthor of the Mecamat, the most celebrated single work in\nArabic literature. He holds much the same rank in Arabic\nletters as Pope and Boileau in the literature of England\nand France and may, with much better reason, be styled \"le\nlegislateur du Parnasse (Arabe).\" He was a native of Bassora\nand died early in the twelfth century.\n\n[FN#186] i.e. the languishing glance of his eye.\n\n[FN#187] i.e. his whiskers.\n\n[FN#188] Koran xii. 51.\n\n[FN#189] Or quare palm-spathes.\n\n[FN#190] Or quare \"an exposition of women.\"\n\n[FN#191] Koran xxvi. 165, 166.\n\n[FN#192] i.e. the whiteness of his face.\n\n[FN#193] Or \"freeborn,\" the Arabic word used here having this\ndouble meaning. The Arabs hold that the child of freeborn\nparents (Lat. ingenuus) must of necessity be noble and those\nborn of slave parents or a slave mother the contrary.\n\n[FN#194] Or \"freeborn,\" the Arabic word used here having this\ndouble meaning. The Arabs hold that the child of freeborn\nparents (Lat. ingenuus) must of necessity be noble and those\nborn of slave parents or a slave mother the contrary.\n\n[FN#195] A famous statesman, soldier, poet and musician,\ngovernor of Khorassan, Egypt and other provinces under the\nKhalif El Mamoun.\n\n[FN#196] Abou Abdallah ibn el Casim el Hashimi, surnamed Abou\nel Ainaa, a blind traditionist and man of letters of Bassora,\nin the ninth century, and one of the most celebrated wits of\nhis day.\n\n[FN#197] An island near Cairo, on which is situate the\nNilometer.  It is a favourite pleasure-resort of the Cairenes.\n\n[FN#198] The port of Cairo.\n\n[FN#199] i.e. the report of its being haunted.\n\n[FN#200] i.e. by the Sortes Coranic\u00e6 or other similar process.\n\n[FN#201] The word shabb (young man) is applied by the Arabs to\nmen of all ages from early adolescence to forty or even\n(according to some authorities) fifty.\n\n[FN#202] i.e. recited the first chapter of the Koran seven\ntimes.\n\n[FN#203] i.e. affixed the tughraa, the royal seal or rather\ncountermark.\n\n[FN#204] i.e. health and security.\n\n[FN#205] See Vol. III. p. 225, note 1. {Vol. 3 FN#78}\n\n[FN#206] A pile of stones or other land-mark, set up to show\nthe way to travellers in the desert.\n\n[FN#207] The eyebrows of a beautiful woman are usually compared\nto the new moon of Ramazan (see note, Vol. I. p. 71 {see Vol. 1\nFN#26}).  The meaning here is the same, the allusion being\napparently to the eagerness with which the pagan Arabs may be\nsupposed to have watched for the appearance of the new moon of\nShaaban, as giving the signal for the renewal of predatory\nexcursions, after the enforced close-time or Tr\u00eave de Dieu of\nthe holy month Rejeb.\n\n[FN#208] Qu\u00e6re fourteen [years old].\n\n[FN#209] i.e. the abrogated passages and those by which they\nare abrogated.\n\n[FN#210] Koran iv. 160.\n\n[FN#211] Traditions of the Prophet.\n\n[FN#212] i.e. saying, \"I purpose to pray such and such\nprayers.\"\n\n[FN#213] i.e. saying, \"God is most Great!\"  So called, because\nits pronunciation after that of the niyeh or intent, prohibits\nthe speaking of any words previous to prayer.\n\n[FN#214] i.e. saying, \"I purpose, etc.\"\n\n[FN#215] i.e. saying, \"I purpose, etc.\"\n\n[FN#216] i.e. saying, \"In the name of God, etc.\"\n\n[FN#217] i.e. saying, \"I purpose, etc.\"\n\n[FN#218] It may be noted that these answers of Taweddud form an\nexcellent compendium of devotional practice, according to the\ntenets of the Shafy school.\n\n[FN#219] Obligatory as a preparation for the Friday prayer and\non other occasions when legal purification is necessary.\n\n[FN#220] i.e. saying, \"I purpose to defer, etc.\"\n\n[FN#221] i.e. with sand, earth or dust.\n\n[FN#222] i.e. saying, \"Peace be on us and [all] the righteous\nworshippers of God!\"\n\n[FN#223] i.e. saying, \"I seek refuge with God from Satan the\naccursed.\"\n\n[FN#224] i.e. saying, \"I purpose, etc.\"\n\n[FN#225] Lit. that the intent shall be by night.\n\n[FN#226] At sundown.\n\n[FN#227] Eaten a little before the break of day, the fast\ncommencing as soon as there is light enough to distinguish a\nblack thread from a white and lasting till sunset.\n\n[FN#228] A saying of Mohammed.\n\n[FN#229] i.e. retirement to a mosque for pious exercises,\nequivalent to the Roman Catholic retraite.\n\n[FN#230] Two hills near Mecca.\n\n[FN#231] On first catching sight of Mecca.\n\n[FN#232] Places near Mecca.\n\n[FN#233] At a pillar supposed to represent the Devil.\n\n[FN#234] Or chief of the faith.\n\n[FN#235] Koran vii. 66.\n\n[FN#236] One of the followers of Mohammed, i.e. those who had\nknown some of the Companions [of the Prophet] though they had\nnever seen himself. The freedman [and adopted son] of Abdallah,\nson of Omar ben El Khettab, the most authoritative of all the\nCompanions and reporters of the sayings and doings of the\nProphet.\n\n[FN#237] i.e. at a profit. The exchange must be equal and\nprofitless.\n\n[FN#238] Ablution.\n\n[FN#239] Complete ablution.\n\n[FN#240] Poor-rate.\n\n[FN#241] Warring for the Faith.\n\n[FN#242] i.e. saying, \"I testify that there is no God, etc.\"\n\n[FN#243] i.e. fundamentals.\n\n[FN#244] i.e. derivatives.\n\n[FN#245] i.e. the true believers.\n\n[FN#246] i.e. death.\n\n[FN#247] i.e. that which does not require to be cut with a\nknife. \"Cut not meat with a knife, because it is of the manners\nand customs of the barbarians; but eat it with your teeth.\"--\nMishcat ul Masabih.\n\n[FN#248] Or \"being a Muslim.\"\n\n[FN#249] Apparently referring to the verse, \"The earth all\n[shall be] His handful [on the] Day of Resurrection and the\nheavens rolled up in His right [hand].\"--Koran xxxix. 67.\n\n[FN#250] See Vol. II. p. 126, note. {Vol. 2, FN#76}\n\n[FN#251] Koran lxxviii. 19.\n\n[FN#252] Of the unity of God.\n\n[FN#253] i.e. professor of Koranic exegesis.\n\n[FN#254] i.e. portions so called.\n\n[FN#255] Heber.\n\n[FN#256] Jethro.\n\n[FN#257] Joshua.\n\n[FN#258] Enoch.\n\n[FN#259] John the Baptist.\n\n[FN#260] i.e. the bird of clay fabled by the Koran (following\nthe Apocryphal Gospel of the childhood of Christ) to have been\nanimated by him.\n\n[FN#261] Koran ii.\n\n[FN#262] Koran ii. 256, \"God, there is no god but He, the\nLiving, the Eternal. Slumber taketh him not, neither sleep, and\nHis is what is in the heavens and what is in the earth.  Who is\nhe that intercedeth with Him but by His leave?  He knoweth what\nis before them and what is behind them, nor do they comprehend\naught of the knowledge of Him but of what He willeth.  His\nthrone embraceth the heavens and the earth and the guarding of\nthem oppresseth Him not, for He is the Most High, the Supreme.\"\n\n[FN#263] Koran ii. 159.\n\n[FN#264] Koran xvi. 92.\n\n[FN#265] Paradise, Koran lxx. 38.\n\n[FN#266] Koran xxxix. 54.\n\n[FN#267] See note, p. 338 supra. {Vol. 4, FN#236}\n\n[FN#268] Koran xii. 18.\n\n[FN#269] Koran ii. 107.\n\n[FN#270] Koran li. 57.\n\n[FN#271] Koran ii. 28.\n\n[FN#272] Koran xvi. 100. The Muslims fable the devil to have\ntempted Abraham to disobey God's commandment to sacrifice\nIshmael (Isaac) and to have been driven off by the Patriarch\nwith stones.  Hence he is called \"The Stoned.\"\n\n[FN#273] Abdallah ibn Abbas, first cousin of Mohammed and the\nmost learned theologian among the Companions.\n\n[FN#274] Koran xcvi. 1 and 2.\n\n[FN#275] Koran xxvii. 30.\n\n[FN#276] Koran ix.\n\n[FN#277] i.e. the day of the sacrifice at Mina, which completes\nthe ceremonies of the pilgrimage.\n\n[FN#278] The better opinion seems to be that this omission\n(unique in the Koran) arose from the ninth chapter having\noriginally formed part of the eighth, from which it was\nseparated after Mohammed's death.\n\n[FN#279] Koran xvii. 110.\n\n[FN#280] Koran ii. 158.\n\n[FN#281] i.e. him who seals or closes the list of the prophets.\n\n[FN#282] C. xcvi.\n\n[FN#283] A native of Medina and one of the first of Mohammed's\ndisciples.\n\n[FN#284] Koran lxxiv.\n\n[FN#285] There are several verses on this subject.\n\n[FN#286] Koran cx. 1.\n\n[FN#287] The third Khalif.\n\n[FN#288] Companions of the Prophet.\n\n[FN#289] One of the Followers.\n\n[FN#290] Koran v. 4.\n\n[FN#291] Koran v. 116.\n\n[FN#292] In the same verse.\n\n[FN#293] Koran v. 89.\n\n[FN#294] Ez Zuhak ben Sufyan, one of the Companions.\n\n[FN#295] One of the Followers.\n\n[FN#296] Koran iv. 124.\n\n[FN#297] i.e. without hesitation or interruption.\n\n[FN#298] Kaf, the 21st letter of the Arabic alphabet.\n\n[FN#299] Mim, the 24th letter of the Arabic alphabet.\n\n[FN#300] Ain, the 18th letter of the Arabic alphabet.\n\n[FN#301] The Koran is divided into sixty set portions,\nanswering or equivalent to our Lessons, for convenience of use\nin public worship.\n\n[FN#302] Koran xi. 50.\n\n[FN#303] Name of the partition-wall between heaven and hell.\n\n[FN#304] Koran vii. 154.\n\n[FN#305] A play on the word ain, which means \"eye.\"\n\n[FN#306] Chapters liv. lv. and lvi.\n\n[FN#307] i e. ankle.\n\n[FN#308] Koran xvii. 39.\n\n[FN#309] Two stars in Aquarius and Capricorn.\n\n[FN#310] Or chief part, lit. head.\n\n[FN#311] Or remedial treatment.\n\n[FN#312] Quare hot springs.\n\n[FN#313] A dish of crumpled bread and broth.\n\n[FN#314] Or savoury supplement to bread, rice and so forth.\n\n[FN#315] Koran v. 92.\n\n[FN#316] Koran ii. 216.\n\n[FN#317] Played with headless arrows.\n\n[FN#318] The fourth Khalif.\n\n[FN#319] The Korah of Numbers xvi. fabled by the Muslims\n(following a Talmudic tradition) to have been a man of immense\nwealth. \"Now Caroun was of the tribe of Moses [and Aaron], but\nhe transgressed against them and we gave him treasures, the\nkeys whereof would bear down a company of men of strength.\"--\nKoran xxviii. 76.\n\n[FN#320] Syn. bearing a load (hamil).\n\n[FN#321] Koran lxx. 40.\n\n[FN#322] Koran x. 5.\n\n[FN#323] Koran xxxvi. 40.\n\n[FN#324] Koran xxii. 60.\n\n[FN#325] Koran xxxi. 34.\n\n[FN#326] Fifth and seventh months of the Coptic year, answering\n(roughly) to our January and March.\n\n[FN#327] Fifth and seventh months of the Coptic year, answering\n(roughly) to our January and March.\n\n[FN#328] Fourth month of the Coptic year.\n\n[FN#329] Eighth and twelfth months of the Coptic year (April\nand August).\n\n[FN#330] Third month (November) of the Coptic year.\n\n[FN#331] Sixth month (February) of the Coptic year.\n\n[FN#332] The lowest of the seven stages into which Mohammedan\ntradition divides the heavens.\n\n[FN#333] Koran lxxvii. 5.\n\n[FN#334] Koran xxxvi. 36, 37, 38.\n\n[FN#335] Koran xxii. 7.\n\n[FN#336] Koran xx. 57.\n\n[FN#337] A she-camel, big with young, miraculously produced,\naccording to Muslim legend, from a rock by the Prophet Salih,\nfor the purpose of converting the Themoudites.\n\n[FN#338] Where he was hiding with Mohammed from the pursuit of\nthe Benou Curaish.\n\n[FN#339] Koran lxxxi. 18.\n\n[FN#340] In Paradise.\n\n[FN#341] Sperma hominis.\n\n[FN#342] The Muslims attribute this miracle to Moses, instead\nof Aaron. See Koran vii. 110 et seq.\n\n[FN#343] [Quoth God] \"What is that in thy right hand, O Moses?\"\nQuoth he, \"It is my staff, on which I lean and wherewith I beat\ndown leaves for my flock, and I have other uses for it.\"--Koran\nxx. 18, 19.\n\n[FN#344] Then He turned to the heaven (now it was smoke) and\nsaid to it and to the earth, \"Come ye twain, obedient or\nloathing.\" And they said both, \"We come, obedient.\"--Koran xli.\n10.\n\n[FN#345] Koran xxxvi. 82.\n\n[FN#346] Ali ibn Abi Taleb, first cousin of Mohammed and fourth\nKhalif.\n\n[FN#347] Uncle of Mohammed and ancestor of the Abbaside\nKhalifs.\n\n[FN#348] Lit. gave him to eat of it.\n\n[FN#349] Assuming him to be dead.","title":"The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night, Volume IV","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":133494}