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TALES    FROM    THE    ARABIC. 


/, 


Ay 


t.  J^mt^ftmjttuj'iimmf.  j^4: 


^mLian   Nlokts 


Vol.  I  o_, 
TALES  FROM   THE  ARABIC 

OF  THE  BRESLAU  AND  CALCUTTA 
(1814-18)  EDITIONS  OF  THE  BOOK  OF  THE 
THOUSAND  NIGHTS  AND  ONE  NIGHT  NOT 
OCCURRING  IN  THE  OTHER  PRINTED 
TEXTS  OF  THE  WORK,  NO  W  FIRST  DONE 
INTO  ENGLISH  BY  JOHN  PAYNE, 
IN     THREE      VOLUMES:       VOL  U M E 

THE    FIRST. 


LONDOJV  ^ 

PRINTED    FOR   SUBSCRIBERS    ONLY 
igoi 


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Limited  to  One  Thousand  Copies 

N».     958 


4 


CONTENTS   OF  THE   FIRST   VOLUME. 


PAGE 

1.  ASLEEP  AND  AWAKE 5 

a.      STORY   OF   THE   LACKPENNY   AND   THE   COOK      .            .  9 

2.  THE    KHALIF    OMAR    BEN     ABDULAZIZ     AND 

THE  POETS 45 

3.  EL  HEJJAJ  AND  THE  THREE  YOUNG  MEN          .  53 

4.  HAROUN    ER    RESHID    AND    THE    WOMAN    OF 

THE  BARMECIDES 57 

5.  THE  TEN  VIZIERS  ;  OR  THE  HISTORY  OF  KING 

AZADBEKHT  AND  HIS  SON         .        .        .        .  61 

a.  OF      THE      USELESSNESS      OF      ENDEAVOUR     AGAINST 

PERSISTENT    ILL    FORTUNE ^0 

aa.      STORY  OF  THE   UNLUCKY  MERCHANT  .           .  73 

b.  OF   LOOKING   TO   THE   ISSUES   OF   AFFAIRS  .           .           .  8o 

bb.       STORY   OF   THE   MERCHANT   AND   HIS   SONS   .  8l 

C.      OF   THE   ADVANTAGES   OF   PATIENCE   ....  89 

CC.       STORY  OF  ABOU   SABIR             .           .           .           .  90 

d,     OF  THE  ILL  EFFECTS  OF   PRECIPITATION  ...  98 

da.     STORY   OF  PRINCE  BIHZAD     ....  99 


VI 

PACT 

e,      OF   THE    ISSUtS   OF   GOOD   AND   EVIL  ACTIONS     .           .  I03 

ee.      STORY       OF        KING       OADBIN        AND        HIS 

VIZIERS 104 

/      OF  TRUST  IN  GOD II4 

ff.      STORY  OF  KINO  BEKHTZEMAN       .           .           •  "5 

g.      OF   CLEMENCY -            .           .  I20 

gg.      STORY  OF  KING  BIHKERD     .  .  .  .121 

h.      OF  ENVY  AND  MALIC?. 12$ 

hh.     STORY       OF        ILAN        SHAH        AND        ABOU 

TEMAM 126 

i.      OF   DESTINY    OR  THAT   WHICH    IS   WRITTEN   ON    THE 

FOREHEAD I36 

a.       STORY   OF   KING  IBRAHIM   AND   HIS  SON         .  I38 
/      OF      THE     APPOINTED     TERM,      WHICH,      IF      IT      BE 
ADVANCED,     MAY    NOT   BE    DEFERRED    AND    IF    IT 

BE   DEFERRED,    MAY   NOT   BE   ADVANC£D           .           .  14^ 
jj.      STORY   OF   KING    SULEIMAN    SHAH    AND    HIS 

SONS 150 

k.     OF  THE  SPEEDY  RELIEF  OF  GOD          ....  174 
kh.      STORY    OF    THE    PRISONER    AND    HOW    GOD 

CAVE   HIM   RELIEF I74 

6.  JAAFER   BEN   YEHYA    AND   ABDULMELIK  BEN 

SALiH  ti:e  ABBASIDE 183 

7.  ER  RESHID  and  the  BARMECIDES      ...  189 

8.  IBN  ES  SEMMAK  AND  ER  RESHID  .        .         .195 

9.  EL  MAMOUN  AND  ZUBEIDEH 199 


Vll 

PAGB 

10.  EN  NUMAN  AND  THE   ARAB   OF  THE    BENOU 

TAI .203 

11.  FIROUZ  AND  HIS  WIFE 209 

12.  KING    SHAH     BEKHT    AND     HIS    VIZIER     ER 

REHWAN 215 

a.  STORY   OF  THE   MAN   OF   KHORASSAN,    HIS    SON    AND 

HIS  GOVERNOR 2l8 

b.  STORY  OF  THE   SINGER  AND   THE   DRUGGIST     .           .  229 
C.      STORY     OF     THE     KING     WHO     KNEW     THE     QUINT- 
ESSENCE OF   THINGS 239 

d,  STORY  OF  THE  RICH  MAN  WHO  GAVE  HIS 
FAIR  DAUGHTER  IN  MARRIAGE  TO  THE  POOR 
OLD     MAN 247 

e.      STORY     OF    THE     RICH     MAN     AND     HIS    WASTEFUL 

SON 252 

/      THE    king's     son    WHO     FELL    IN    LOVE   WITH    THE 

PICTURE 256 

g.      STORY   OF   THE   FULLER  AND   HIS   WIFE    .  .  .      261 

h.      STORY  OF   THE   OLD   WOMAN,    THE    MERCHANT   AND 

THE   KING 265 

i.      STORY   OF  THE   CREDULOUS   HUSBAND        .  .  .      27O 

j.      STORY  OF  THE   UNJUST   KING   AND   THE   TITHER        .      273 
jj.      STORY   OF   DAVID  AND   SOLOMON       .  .  .      275 

k.      STORY   OF   THE  THIEF   AND   THE   WOMAN  .  .      278 


viii 

PAGE 

/.      STORY     OF      THE     THREE     MEN      AND     OUR     LORD 

.      282 
JESUS .•  •  • 

//.      THE  disciple's  STORY  .  .  •  .283 

m,    STORY    OF    THE     DETHRONED     KING    WHOSE    KING- 
DOM  AND   GOOD  WERE   RESTORED  TO  HIM   .  •      285 
n.     STORY    OF    THE    MAN    WHOSE    CAUTION    WAS    THE 

CAUSE  OF  HIS  DEATH ^' 

A     STORY     OF     THE    MAN    WHO    WAS    LAVISH    OF    HIS 
HOUSE    AND     HIS    VICTUAL    TO    ONE    WHOM    HE 

KNEW  NOT ^93 

/.     STORY  O-e  THE  IDIOT  AND  THE  SHARPER  .  •      298 

q.     STORY     OF     KHKLBES     AND     HIS     WIFE     AND     THE 

LEARNED   MAN      .  .  •  '  •  •  *      3®' 


BSteslau   Ctyt 


VOL.  I. 


ASLEEP    AND    AWAKE. 


ASLEEP  AND   AWAKE.» 

There  leas  once  [at  Baghdad],  in  tlie  Khalifeite  of 
Haroun  er  Reshid,  a  man,  a  merchant,  who  had  a  son 
by  name  Aboulhusn  el  Khelia.«  The  merchant  died  and 
left  his  son  great  store  of  wealth,  which  he  divided  into 
two  parts,  one  of  which  he  laid  up  and  spent  of  the  other 
half;  and  he  fell  to  companying  with  Persians*  and  with 
the  sons  of  the  merchants  and  gave  himself  up  to  good 
eating  and  good  drinking,  till  all  that  he  had  with  him 
of  wealth*  was  wasted  and  gone ;  whereupon  he  betook 
himself  to  his  friends  and  comrades  and  boon-companions 
and  expounded  to  them  his  case,  discovering  to  them  the 
failure  of  that  which  was  in  his  hand  of  wealth;  but  not 
one  of  them  took  heed  of  him  neither  inclined  unto  him. 

*  Breslaa  Text,  toL  !▼.  pp.  134-189,  Nights  cclxxii.-ccxcl  Thl» 
b  the  story  familiar  to  readers  of  the  old  '•  Arabian  Nights  *'  as  ♦'  Abon 
Hassan,  or  the  Sleeper  Awakened  "  and  is  the  only  one  of  the  eleven 
tales  added  by  Galland  to  his  version  of  the  (incomplete)  MS.  of  the 
Book  of  the  Thousand  Nights  and  One  Night  procured  by  him  from 
Syria,  the  Arabic  original  of  which  has  yet  been  discovered.  (Sec  my 
"  Book  of  the  Thousand  Nights  and  One  Night, "  Vol.  IX.  pp.  264  et  .eq.) 
The  above  title  is  of  course  intended  to  mark  the  contrast  between  the 
everyday  (or  waking)  hoars  of  Aboulhusn  and  his  fantastic  life  in  the 
Khalif  t  palace,  supposed  by  him  to  have  passed  in  a  dream,  and  may 
also  be  rendered  "The  Sleeper  and  the  Waker." 

'  Ld,  The  Wag.  '  Always  noted  for  debauchery, 

*  ^A  the  part  he  had  taken  for  spending  money. 


So  he  returned  to  his  mother  (and  indeed  his  spirit 
was  broken),  and  related  to  her  that  which  had  happened 
to  him  and  what  had  betided  him  from  his  friends,  how 
they  had  neither  shared  with  him  nor  requited  him  with 
speech.  "O  Aboulhusn,"  answered  she,  "on  this  wise 
are  the  sons^  of  this  time:  if  thou  have  aught,  they  make 
much  of  thee,'  and  if  thou  have  nought,  they  put  thee 
away  [from  them]."  And  she  went  on  to  condole  with 
him,  what  while  he  bewailed  himself  and  his  tears  flowed 
and  he  repeated  the  following  verses : 

An  if  my  sabstance  fail,  no  one  there  is  will  succour  me^ 
But  if  my  wealth  abound,  of  all  I'm  held  in  amity. 

How  many  a  friend,  for  money's  sake,  hath  companied  with  me ! 
How  many  an  one,  with  loss  of  wealth,  hath  turned  mine  enemy  I 

Then  he  sprang  up  [and  going]  to  the  place  wherein 
was  the  other  half  of  his  good,  [took  it]  and  lived  with 
it  well;  and  he  swore  that  he  would  never  again  consort 
with  those  whom  he  knew,  but  would  company  only  with 
the  stranger  nor  entertain  him  but  one  night  and  that, 
whenas  it  morrowed,  he  would  never  know  him  more. 
So  he  fell  to  sitting  every  night  on  the  bridge'  and 
looking  on  every  one  who  passed  by  him;  and  if  he 
saw  him  to  be  a  stranger,  he  made  friends  with  hun 
and  carried  him  to  his  house,  where  he  caroused  with 
him  till  the  morning.  Then  he  dismissed  him  and  would 
never  more  salute  him  nor  ever  again  drew  near  unto  him 
neither  invited  him. 

*  Lt.  "those,"  a  characteristic  Arab  idiooi. 
■  Lit.  draw  thee  near  [to  them]. 
'  ta.  that  over  the  Tigris. 


On  this  wise  he  continued  to  do  for  the  space  of  a 
whole  year,  till,  one  day,  as  he  sat  on  the  bridge,  accord- 
ing to  his  custom,  expecting  who  should  come  to  him, 
so  he  might  take  him  and  pass  the  night  with  him, 
behold,  [up  came]  the  Khalif  and  Mesrour,  the  swords- 
man of  his  vengeance,  disguised  [in  merchants'  habits] 
as  of  their  wont.  So  he  looked  at  them  and  rising  up, 
lor  that  he  knew  them  not,  said  to  them,  "  What  say  ye  ? 
Will  you  go  with  me  to  my  dwelling-place,  so  ye  may 
eat  what  is  ready  and  drink  what  is  at  hand,  to  wit, 
bread  baked  in  the  platter^  and  meat  cooked  and  wine 
clarified?"  The  Khalif  refused  this,  but  he  conjured 
him  and  said  to  him,  "  God  on  thee,  O  my  lord,  go  with 
me,  for  thou  art  my  guest  this  night,  and  disappoint  not 
my  expectation  concerning  thee!"  And  he  ceased  not 
to  press  him  till  he  consented  to  him ;  whereat  Aboulhusn 
rejoiced  and  going  on  before  him,  gave  not  over  talking 
with  him  till  they  came  to  his  [house  and  he  carried  the 
Khalif  into  the]  saloon.  Er  Reshid  entered  and  made 
his  servant  abide  at  the  door;  and  as  soon  as  he  was 
seated,  Aboulhusn  brought  him  somewhat  to  eat;  so  he 
ate,  and  Aboulhusn  ate  with  him,  so  eating  might  be 
pleasant  to  him.  Then  he  removed  the  tray  and  they 
washed  their  hands  and  the  Khalif  sat  down  again; 
whereupon  Aboulhusn  set  on   the  drinking  vessels  and 

'^  "  Platter  bread,"  i.e.  bread  baked  in  a  platter,  instead  o^  as  usual 
with  the  Arabs,  in  an  oven  or  earthen  jar  previously  heated,  to  the  sides 
of  which  the  thin  cakes  of  dough  are  applied,  "is  lighter  than  oven- 
bread,  especially  if  it  be  made  thin  and  leavened." — S^^ucouri,  a  medical 
writer  quoted  by  Dozy. 


8 

seating  himself  by  his  side,  fell  to  filling  and  giving  him 
to  drink  and  entertaining  him  with  discourse. 

His  hospitality  pleased  the  Khalif  and  the  goodliness 
of  his  fashion,  and  he  said  to  him,  "O  youth,  who  art 
*hou?  Make  me  acquainted  with  thyself,  so  I  may  re- 
quite thee  thy  kindness."  But  Aboulhusn  smiled  and 
said,  "  O  my  lord,  far  be  it  that  what  is  past  should  recui 
and  that  I  be  in  company  with  thee  at  other  than  this 
time!"  "Why  so?"  asked  the  Khalif.  "And  why  will 
thou  not  acquaint  me  with  thy  case?"  And  Aboulhusn 
said,  "  Know,  O  my  lord,  that  my  story  is  extraordinary 
and  that  there  is  a  cause  for  this  afi^ir."  Quoth  the 
Khalif,  "And  what  is  the  cause?"  And  he  answered, 
"The  cause  hath  a  tail."  The  Khalif  laughed  at  his 
words  and  Aboulhusn  said,  "I  will  explain  to  thee  this 
[saying]  by  the  story  of  the  lackpeony  and  the  cook. 
Know,  O  my  lord,  that 


STORY  OF  THE  LACKPENNY  AND  THE  COOK. 

One  of  the  good-for-noughts  found  himself  one  day 
without  aught  and  the  world  was  straitened  upon  him 
and  his  patience  failed;  so  he  lay  down  to  sleep  and 
gave  not  over  sleeping  till  the  sun  burnt  him  and  the 
foam  came  out  upon  his  mouth,  whereupon  he  arose, 
and  he  was  penniless  and  had  not  so  much  as  one  dirhem. 
Presently,  he  came  to  the  shop  of  a  cook,  who  had  set 
up  therein  his  pans^  [over  the  fire]  and  wiped  his  scales 
and  washed  his  saucers  and  swept  his  shop  and  sprinkled 
it ;  and  indeed  his  oils  *  were  clear '  and  his  spices  fragrant 
and  he  himself  stood  behind  his  cooking-pots  [waiting 
for  custom].  So  the  lackpenny  went  up  to  him  and 
saluting  him,  said  to  him,  'Weigh  me  half  a  dirhem's 
worth  of  meat  and  a  quarter  of  a  dirhem's  worth  of  kous- 
koussou*  and  the  like  of  bread.'  So  the  cook  weighed 
out  to  him  [that  which  he  sought]  and  the  lackpenny 
entered  the  shop,  whereupon  the  cook  set  the  food  be- 
fore him  and  he  ate  till  he  had  gobbled  up  the  whole 
and  licked  the  saucers  and  abode  perplexed,  knowing 
not  how  he  should  do  with  the  cook    concerning    the 

*  Or  cooking-pots.  •  Or  fats  for  frying.  •  Or  cla  rifled. 

*  Taam,  lit.  food,  the  name  given  by  the  inhabitants  of  Northern 
Africa  to  the  preparation  of  millet-flour  (something  like  semolina)  called 
kouskoussou,  which  lorms  ihe  staple  food  of  the  people. 


•o 

price  of  that  which  he  had  eaten  and  turning  his  eyes 
about  upon  everything  in  the  shop. 

Presently,  he  caught  sight  of  an  earthen  pan  turned 
over  upon  its  mouth;  so  he  raised  it  from  the  ground 
and  found  under  it  a  horse's  tail,  freshly  cut  oflF,  and  the 
blood  oozing  from  it;  whereby  he  knew  that  the  cook 
adulterated  his  meat  with  horses'  flesh.  When  he  dis- 
covered this  default,  he  rejoiced  therein  and  washing 
his  hands,  bowed  his  head  and  went  out;  and  when  the 
cook  saw  that  he  went  and  gave  him  nought,  he  cried 
out,  saying,  'Stay,  O  sneak,  O  slink-thief  I*  So"  the  lack- 
penny  stopped  and  said  to  him,  '  Dost  thou  cry  out  upon 
me  and  becall  [me]  with  these  words,  O  cuckold?* 
Whereat  the  cook  was  angry  and  coming  down  from  the 
shop,  said,  *  What  meanest  thou  by  thy  speech,  O  thou 
that  devourest  meat  and  kouskoussou  and  bread  and 
seasoning  and  goest  forth  with  "Peace*  [be  on  thee!]," 
as  it  were  the  thing  had  not  been,  and  payest  down 
nought  for  it?*  Quoth  the  lackpenny,  'Thou  liest,  O 
son  of  a  cuckold  1 '  Wherewith  the  cook  cried  out  and 
laying  hold  of  the  lackpenny's  collar,  said,  *0  Muslims, 
this  fellow  is  my  first  customer*  this  day  and  he  hath 
eaten  my  food  and  given  me  nought.' 

So  the  folk  gathered  together  to  them  and  blamed  the 
lackpenny  and  said  to  him,  'Give  him  the  price  of  that 
which  thou  hast  eaten.'  Quoth  he,  *  I  gave  him  a  dirhem 
before  I  entered  the  shop ; '  and  the  cook  said,  *  Be  every- 

»  Or  "In  peace." 

'  Eastern  peoples  attach  great  importance,  for  good  or  evil  omen,  to 
the  first  person  met  or  the  first  thing  that  happens  in  the  day. 


riti  ^-k 


'm  rt 


II 

thing  I  sell  this  day  forbidden »  to  me,  if  he  gave  me  so 
much  as  the  name  of  a  piece  of  money !  By  Allah,  he 
gave  me  nought,  but  ate  my  food  and  went  out  and 
[would  have]  made  off,  without  aught  [said I]'  *Nay,' 
answered  the  lackpenny,  *I  gave  thee  a  dirhem,*  and  he 
reviled  the  cook,  who  returned  his  abuse;  whereupon  he 
dealt  him  a  cufif  and  they  gripped  and  grappled  and 
throttled  each  other.  When  the  folk  saw  them  on  this 
wise,  they  came  up  to  them  and  said  to  them,  *What  is 
this  strife  between  you,  and  no  cause  for  it?'  *Ay,  by 
Allah,'  replied  the  lackpenny,  *  but  there  is  a  cause  for  it, 
and  the  cause  hath  a  tail  I '  Whereupon,  *  Yea,  by  Allah,' 
;ried  the  cook,  *now  thou  mindest  me  of  thyself  and 
thy  dirhem  I  Yes,  he  gave  me  a  dirhem  and  [but]  a 
quarter  of  the  price  is  spent.  Come  back  and  take  the 
rest  of  the  price  of  thy  dirhem.'  For  that  he  understood 
what  was  to  do,  at  the  mention  of  the  tail  j  and  I,  O  my 
brother,"  added  Aboulhusn,  "  my  story  hath  a  cause,  which 
I  will  tell  thee." 

The  Khalif  laughed  at  his  speech  and  said,  "  By  Allah, 
this  is  none  other  than  a  pleasant  tale !  Tell  me  thy  story 
and  the  cause."  "  With  all  my  heart,"  answered  Aboulhusn. 
**  Know,  O  my  lord,  that  my  name  is  Aboulhusn  el  Khelia 
and  that  my  father  died  and  left  me  wealth  galore,  of 
which  I  made  two  parts.  One  I  laid  up  and  with  the 
other  I  betook  myself  to  [the  enjoyment  of  the  pleasures 
of]  friendship  [and  conviviality]  and  consorting  with 
comrades  and  boon-companions  and  with  the  sons  of  the 
merchants,  nor  did  I  leave  one  but  I  caioused  with  him 
^  Or  "attributed  as  sin." 


12 

and  he  with  me,  and  I  spent  aU  my  money  on  companion- 
ship  and  good  cheer,  till  there  remained  with  me  nought 
[of  the  first  half  of  my  good] ;  whereupon  I  betook  myself 
to  the  comrades  and  cup-companions  upon  whom  I  had 
wasted  my  wealth,  so  haply  they  might  provide  for  my 
case ;  but,  when  I  resorted  to  them  and  went  roimd  about 
to  them  all,  I  found  no  avail  in  one  of  them,  nor  broke 
any  so  much  as  a  crust  of  bread  in  my  face.  So  I  wept 
for  myself  and  repairing  to  my  mother,  complained  to 
her  of  my  case.  Quoth  she,  *0n  this  wise  are  friends; 
if  thou  have  aught,  they  make  much  of  thee  and  devour 
thee,  but,  if  thou  have  nought,  they  cast  thee  oflF  and 
chase  thee  away.'  Then  I  brought  out  the  other  half  of 
my  money  and  bound  myself  by  an  oath  that  I  would 
never  more  entertain  any,  except  one  night,  after  which 
I  would  never  again  salute  him  nor  take  note  of  him; 
hence  my  saying  to  thee,  'Far  be  it  that  what  is  past 
should  recur  I '  For  that  I  will  never  again  foregather 
with  thee,  after  this  night." 

When  the  Khalif  heard  this,  he  laughed  heartily  and 
said,  "  By  Allah,  O  my  brother,  thou  art  indeed  excused 
in  this  matter,  now  that  I  know  the  cause  and  that  the 
cause  hath  a  tail  Nevertheless  if  it  please  God,  I  will 
not  sever  myself  ftx)m  thee."  "O  my  guest,"  replied 
Aboulhusn,  *'  did  I  not  say  to  thee,  '  Far  be  it  that  what 
is  past  should  recur  I  For  that  I  will  never  again  fore- 
gather with  any '  ?  "  Then  the  Khalif  rose  and  Aboulhusn 
set  before  him  a  dish  of  roast  goose  and  a  cake  of 
manchet-bread  and  sitting  down,  fell  to  cutting  off  morsels 
and  feeding  the  Khalif  therewith.    They  gave  not  over 


13 

eating  thus  till  they  were  content,  when  Abonlhusn 
brought  bowl  and  ewer  and  potash*  and  they  washed 
their  hands. 

Then  he  lighted  him  three  candles  and  three  lamps 
and  spreading  the  drinking-cloth,  brought  clarified  wine, 
limpid,  old  and  fragrant,  the  scent  whereof  was  as  that 
of  virgin  musk.  He  filled  the  first  cup  and  saying,  "  O 
my  boon-companion,  by  thy  leave,  be  ceremony  laid  aside 
between  us  I  I  am  thy  slave  j  may  I  not  be  afflicted  with 
thy  loss !  "  drank  it  off  and  filled  a  second  cup,  which  he 
handed  to  the  Khalif,  with  a  reverence.  His  fashion 
pleased  the  Khalif  and  the  goodliness  of  his  speech  and 
he  said  in  himself,  "By  Allah,  I  will  assuredly  requite 
him  for  this  ! "  Then  Aboulhusn  filled  the  cup  again  and 
handed  it  to  the  Khalif,  reciting  the  following  verses : 

Had  we  thy  coming  known,  we  would  for  sacrifice  Have  ponied  thee 

out  heart's  blood  or  blackness  of  the  eyes ; 
Ay,  and  we  would  have  spread  our  bosoms  in  thy  way,  That  so  thy  feet 

might  fare  on  eyelids,  carpet-wise. 

When  the  Khalif  heard  his  verses,  he  took  the  cup 
from  his  hand  and  kissed  it  and  drank  it  off  and  returned 
it  to  Aboulhusn,  who  made  him  an  obeisance  and  filled 
and  drank.  Then  he  filled  again  and  kissing  the  cup 
thrice,  recited  the  following  verses : 

Thy  presence  honoureth  us  and  we  Confess  thy  magnanimity ; 
If  thou  forsake  us,  there  is  none  Can  stand  to  us  instead  of  thee. 

Then  he  gave  the  cup  to  the  Khalif,  saying,  "Drink 
[and  may]  health  and  soundness  [attend  it]  I     It  doth 
'  A  common  Eastern  substitute  for  soap^ 


H 

away  disease  and  bringeth  healing  and  setteth  the  runnels 
of  health  abroach." 

They  gave  not  over  drinking  and  carousing  till  the 
middle  of  the  night,  when  the  Khalif  said  to  his  host. 
"O  my  brother,  hast  thou  in  thy  heart  a  wish  thou 
wouldst  have  accomplished  or  a  regret  thou  wouldst  foin 
do  away  ? "  "  By  Allah,"  answered  he,  "  there  is  no 
regret  in  my  heart  save  that  I  am  not  gifted  with  dominion 
and  the  power  of  commandment  and  prohibition,  so  I 
might  do  what  is  in  my  mind  !"  Quoth  the  Khalif,  "For 
God's  sake,  O  my  brother,  tell  me  what  is  in  thy  mind  1  ** 
And  Aboulhusn  said,  "  I  would  to  God  I  might  avenge 
myself  on  my  neighbours,  for  that  in  my  neighbourhood 
is  a  mosque  and  therein  four  sheikhs,  who  take  it  ill, 
whenas  there  cometh  a  guest  to  me,  and  vex  me  with 
talk  and  molest  me  in  words  and  threaten  me  that  they 
will  complain  of  me  to  the  Commander  of  the  Faithful, 
and  indeed  they  oppress  me  sore,  and  I  crave  of  God  the 
Most  High  one  day's  dominion,  that  I  may  beat  each  of 
them  with  four  hundred  lashes,  as  well  as  the  Imam  of 
the  mosque,  and  parade  them  about  the  city  of  Baghdad 
and  let  call  before  them,  'This  is  the  reward  and  the 
least  of  the  reward  of  whoso  exceedeth  [in  talk]  and 
spiteth  the  folk  and  troubleth  on  them  their  joys.'  This 
is  what  I  wish  and  no  more." 

Quoth  the  Khalif,  "  God  grant  thee  that  thou  seekest  1 
Let  us  drink  one  last  cup  and  rise  before  the  dawn  draw 
near,  and  to-morrow  night  I  will  be  with  thee  again." 
"Far  be  it  I"  said  Aboulhusn.  Then  the  Khalif  filled 
t  cup  and  putting   therein   a  piece  oi  Cretan  henbane^ 


'5 

gave  it  to  his  host  and  said  to  him,  "My  life  on  thee, 
O  my  brother,  drink  this  cup  from  my  hand  ! "  '♦  Ay,  by 
thy  life,"  answered  Aboulhusn,  "  I  will  drink  it  from  thy 
hand."  So  he  took  it  and  drank  it  off;  but  hardly  had 
he  done  so,  when  his  head  forewent  his  feet  and  he  fell 
to  the  ground  like  a  slain  man ;  whereupon  the  Khalif 
went  out  and  said  to  his  servant  Mesrour,  "Go  in  to 
yonder  young  man,  the  master  of  the  house,  and  take 
him  up  and  bring  him  to  me  at  the  palace ;  and  when 
thou  goest  out,  shut  the  door." 

So  saying,  he  went  away,  whilst  Mesrour  entered  and 
taking  up  Aboulhusn,  shut  the  door  after  him,  and  fol- 
lowed his  master,  till  he  reached  the  palace,  what  while 
the  night  drew  to  an  end  and  the  cocks  cried  out,  and 
set  him  down  before  the  Commander  of  the  Faithful,  who 
laughed  at  him.  Then  he  sent  for  Jaafer  the  Barmecide 
and  when  he  came  before  him,  he  said  to  him,  "  Note 
this  young  man  and  when  thou  seest  him  to-morrow 
seated  in  my  place  of  estate  and  on  the  throne  of  my 
Khalifate  and  clad  in  my  habit,  stand  thou  in  attendance 
upon  him  and  enjoin  the  Amirs  and  grandees  and  the 
people  of  my  household  and  the  officers  of  my  realm  to 
do  the  like  and  obey  him  in  that  which  he  shall  command 
them ;  and  thou,  if  he  bespeak  thee  of  anything,  do  it  and 
hearken  unto  him  and  gainsay  him  not  in  aught  in  this 
coming  day."  Jaafer  answered  with,  "  Hearkening  and 
obedieHce,"*  and  withdrew,  whilst  the  Khalif  went  in  to 

^  This  common  formula  of  assent  is  an  abbreviation  of  "  Hearkening 
and  obedience  are  due  to  God  and  to  the  Commander  of  the  Faithful '' 
or  other  the  person  addressed. 


i6 

the  women  of  the  palace,  who  came  to  him,  and  he  said 
to  them,  "Whenas  yonder  sleeper  awaketh  to-morrow 
from  his  sleep,  kiss  ye  the  earth  before  him  and  make 
obeisance  to  him  and  come  round  about  him  and  clothe 
him  in  the  [royal]  habit  and  do  him  the  service  of  the 
Khalifate  and  deny  not  aught  of  his  estate,  but  say  to 
him,  *  Thou  art  the  Khalif.'  "  Then  he  taught  them  what 
they  should  say  to  him  and  how  they  should  do  with  him 
and  withdrawing  to  a  privy  place,  let  down  a  curtain  before 
himself  and  slept 

Meanwhile,  Aboulhusn  gave  not  over  snoring  in  his 
sleep,  till  the  day  broke  and  the  rising  of  the  sun  drew 
near,  when  a  waiting-woman  came  up  to  him  and  said 
to  him,  "O  our  lord  [it  is  the  hour  of]  the  morning- 
prayer."  When  he  heard  the  girl's  words,  he  laughed 
and  opening  his  eyes,  turned  them  about  the  place  and 
found  himself  in  an  apartment  the  walls  whereof  were 
painted  with  gold  and  ultramarine  and  its  ceiling  starred 
with  red  gold.  Around  it  were  sleeping-chambers,  with 
curtains  of  gold-embroidered  silk  let  down  over  their 
doors,  and  all  about  vessels  of  gold  and  porcelain  and 
crystal  and  furniture  and  carpets  spread  and  lamps  burn- 
ing before  the  prayer-niche  and  slave-girls  and  eunuchs 
and  white  slaves  and  black  slaves  and  boys  and  pages 
and  attendants.  When  he  saw  this,  he  was  confounded 
in  his  wit  and  said,  "  By  Allah,  either  I  am  dreaming, 
or  this  is  Paradise  and  the  Abode  of  Peace ! "  ^  And 
he  shut  his   eyes  and  went  to  sleep  again.      Quoth  the 

^  Dar  es  Selam,  one  of  the  seven  "  Gardens  "  into  which  the  Moham* 
medan  Paradise  is  divided. 


17 

*eaiting-woman,  "  O  my  lord,  this  is  not  of  thy  wont, 
O  Commander  of  the  Faithful ! " 

Then  the  rest  of  the  women  of  the  palace  came  all  to 
him  and  lifted  him  into  a  sitting  posture,  when  he  found 
himself  upon  a  couch,  stuffed  all  with  floss-silk  and  raised 
a  cubit's  height  from  the  ground.*  So  they  seated  him 
upon  it  and  propped  him  up  with  a  pillow,  and  he  looked 
at  the  apartment  and  its  greatness  and  saw  those  eunuchs 
and  slave-girls  in  attendance  upon  him  and  at  his  head, 
whereat  he  laughed  at  himself  and  said,  "  By  Allah,  it  is 
not  as  I  were  on  wake,  and  [yet]  I  am  not  asleep  I " 
Then  he  arose  and  sat  up,  whilst  the  damsels  laughed 
at  him  and  hid  [their  laughter]  from  him  j  and  he  was 
confounded  in  his  wit  and  bit  upon  his  finger.  The  bite 
hurt  him  and  he  cried  "  Oh  I "  and  was  vexed ;  and  the 
Khalif  watched  him,  whence  he  saw  him  not,  and  laughed. 

Presently  Aboulhusn  ttuned  to  a  damsel  and  called  to 
her;  whereupon  she  came  to  him  and  he  said  to  her, 
"  By  the  protection  of  God,  O  damsel,  am  I  Commander 
of  the  Faithfiil?"  "Yes,  indeed,"  answered  she;  "by 
the  protection  of  God  thou  in  this  time  art  Commander 
of  the  Faithful."  Quoth  he,  "  By  Allah,  thou  liest,  O 
thousandfold  strumpet  1"  Then  he  turned  to  the  chief 
eunuch  and  called  to  him,  whereupon  he  came  to  him 
and  kissing  the  earth  before  him,  said,  "  Yes,  O  Com- 
mander of  the  Faithful."  "Who  is  Commander  of  the 
Faithful  ?  "  asked  Aboulhusn.  "  Thou,"  replied  the  eunuch 
and  Aboulhusn  said,  "Thou  liest,  thousandfold  catamite 
that  thou  art  1 "  Then  he  turned  to  another  eunuch  and 
^  ia.  a  mattrass  eighteen  inches  thick. 

VOL.  I.  a 


i8 

said  to  him,  "  O  my  chief,*  by  the  protection  of  God,  tm 
I  Commander  of  the  Faithful?"  "Ay,  by  Allah,  O  my 
lord  I "  answered  he.  "  Thou  in  this  time  art  Commander 
of  the  Faithful  and  Vicar  of  the  Lord  of  the  Worlds." 
Aboulhusn  laughed  at  himself  and  misdoubted  of  hii 
reason  and  was  perplexed  at  what  he  saw  and  said, 
"In  one  night  I  am  become  Khalifl  Yesterday  I  wai 
Aboulhusn  the  Wag,  and  to-day  I  am  Commander  of  the 
Faithful."  Then  the  chief  eunuch  came  up  to  him  and 
said,  "  O  Commander  of  the  Faithful,  (the  name  of  God 
encompass  thee !)  thou  art  indeed  Commander  of  the 
Faithful  and  Vicar  of  the  Lord  of  the  Worlds  ! "  And 
the  slave-girls  and  eunuchs  came  round  about  him,  till  he 
arose  and  abode  wondering  at  his  case. 

Presently,  one  of  the  slave-girls  brought  him  a  pair  of 
sandals  wrought  with  raw  silk  and  green  silk  and  em- 
broidered with  red  gold,  and  he  took  them  and  put  them 
in  his  sleeve,  whereat  the  slave  cried  out  and  said,  "  Allah ! 
Allah !  O  my  lord,  these  are  sandals  for  the  treading  of 
thy  feet,  so  thou  mayst  enter  the  draught-house."  Aboul- 
husn was  confounded  and  shaking  the  sandals  from  his 
sleeve,  put  them  on  his  feet,  whilst  the  Khalif  [well-nigh] 
died  of  laughter  at  him.  The  slave  forewent  him  to  the 
house  of  easance,  where  he  entered  and  doing  his  occa- 
sion, came  out  into  the  chamber,  whereupon  the  slave- 
girls  brought  him  a  basin  of  gold  and  an  ewer  of  silver 
and  poured  water  on  his  hands  and  he  made  the  ablution. 

Then  they  spread  him  a  prayer-carpet  and  he  prayed. 

*  CompUmentaiy  fonn  of  addresi  to  ennuchs,  generally  ased  bj 
falferiors  0017. 


19 

Now  he  knew  not  how  to  pray  and  gave  not  over  bowing 
and  prostrating  himself  [till  he  had  prayed  the  prayers] 
of  twenty  inclinations,*  pondering  in  himself  the  while 
and  saying,  "By  Allah,  I  am  none  other  than  the  Com- 
mander of  the  Faithful  in  very  sooth !  This  is  assuredly 
no  dream,  for  all  these  things  happen  not  in  a  dream." 
And  he  was  convinced  and  determined  in  himself  that  he 
was  Commander  of  the  Faithful ;  so  he  pronounced  the 
Salutation'  and  made  an  end*  of  his  prayers ;  whereupon 
the  slaves  and  slave-girls  came  round  about  him  with 
parcels  of  silk  and  stuffs*  and  clad  him  in  the  habit  of 
the  Khalifate  and  gave  him  the  royal  dagger  in  his 
hand.  Then  the  chief  eunuch  went  out  before  him  and 
the  little  white  slaves  behind  him,  and  they  ceased 
not  [going]  till  they  raised  the  curtain  and  brought  him 
into  the  hall  of  judgment  and  the  throne-room  of  the 
KhaUfate.  There  he  saw  the  curtains  and  the  forty  doors 
and  £1  Ijli  and  £r  Recashi"  and  Ibdan  and  Jedim  and 
Abou  Ishac*  the  boon-companions  and  beheld  swords 
drawn  and  lions'  encompassing  [the  throne]  and  gilded 
glaives  and  death-dealing  bows  and  Persians  and  Arabs 
and  Turks  and  Medes  and  folk  and  peoples  and  Amirs 

*  The  morning-prayer  consists  of  four  inclinations  {rekdat)  only.  A 
certain  fixed  succession  of  prayers  and  acts  of  adoration  is  call  d  a 
rekcA  (sing,  of  rekdat)  from  the  inclination  of  the  body  that  occurs  la  it. 

'  i^.  the  terminal  formula  of  prayer,  "  Peace  be  on  us  and  on  all  the 
righteous  servants  of  God !" 

*  ue,  said  "  I  purpose  to  make  an  end  of  prayer." 

*  Or  "linen."  •  A  well-known  poet  of  the  timo 
'  ijt.  Ibrahim  of  Mosul,  the  greatest  musician  of  his  day. 

'  it.  doughty  men  of  war,  guards. 


20 

and  viziers  and  captains  and  grandees  and  officers  of  state 
and  men  of  war,  and  indeed  there  appeared  the  puissance 
of  the  house  of  Abbas*  and  the  majesty  of  the  family  ci 
the  Prophet 

So  he  sat  down  upon  the  throne  (rf*  the  Khalifate  and 
laid  the  dagger  in  his  lap,  whereupon  all  [present]  came 
up  to  kiss  the  earth  before  him  and  called  down  on  him 
length  of  life  and  continuance  [of  glory  and  prosperity]. 
Then  came  forward  Jaafer  the  Barmecide  and  kissing  the 
earth,  said,  "  May  the  wide  world  of  God  be  the  treading 
of  thy  feet  and  may  Paradise  be  thy  dwelling-place  and 
the  fire  the  habitation  of  thine  enemies  1  May  no  neigh- 
botir  transgress  against  thee  nor  the  lights  of  fire  die 
out  for  thee,*  O  Khalif  of  [all]  cities  and  ruler  of  [all] 
countries  1 " 

Therewithal  Aboulhusn  cried  out  at  him  and  said,  *'  O 
dog  of  the  sons  of  Bermek,  go  down  forthright,  thou  and 
the  master  of  the  police  of  the  city,  to  such  a  place  in 
such  a  street  and  deliver  a  hundred  dinars  to  the  mother 
of  Aboulhusn  the  Wag  and  bear  her  my  salutation. 
[Then,  go  to  such  a  mosque]  and  take  the  four  sheikhs 
and  the  Imam  and  beat  each  of  them  with  four  hundred 
lashes  and  mount  them  on  beasts,  face  to  tail,  and  go 
round  with  them  about  all  the  city  and  banish  them  to 
a  place  other  than  the  city;  and  bid  the  crier  make 
proclamation   before   them,    saying,    '  This    is    the   reward 

^  The  Abbaside  Khalifs  traced  their  descent  from  Abbas,  the  ancle  ol 
Mohammed,  and  considered  themselves,  therefore,  as  belonging  to  the 
iiunily  of  the  Prophet. 

*  L$  May  thy  dwelling- place  never  faJ!  into  rviim. 


31 

and  the  least  of  the  reward  of  whoso  multiplieth  words 
and  molesteth  his  neighbours  and  stinteth  them  of  their 
delights  and  their  eating  and  drinking  t'"  Jaafer 
received  the  order  [with  submission]  and  answered  with 
["Hearkening  and]  obedience;"  after  which  he  went 
down  from  before  Aboulhusn  to  the  city  and  did  that 
whereunto  he  had  bidden  hira. 

Meanwhile,  Aboulhusn  abode  in  the  Khalifate,  taking 
and  giving,  ordering  and  forbidding  and  giving  effect  to 
his  word,  till  the  end  of  the  day,  when  he  gave  [those 
who  were  present]  leave  and  permission  [to  withdraw], 
and  the  Amirs  and  officers  of  state  departed  to  their 
occasions.  Then  the  eunuchs  came  to  him  and  calling 
down  on  him  length  of  life  and  continuance  [of  glory  and 
prosperity],  walked  in  attendance  upon  him  and  raised 
the  curtain,  and  he  entered  the  pavilion  of  the  harem, 
where  he  found  candles  lighted  and  lamps  burning  and 
singing-women  smiting  [on  instruments  of  music].  When 
he  saw  this,  he  was  confounded  in  his  wit  and  said  in 
himself,  "By  Allah,  I  am  in  truth  Commander  of  the 
Faithful  1 "  As  soon  as  he  appeared,  the  slave-girls  rose 
to  him  and  carrying  him  up  on  to  the  estrade,'  brought 
him  a  great  table,  spread  with  the  richest  meats.  So  he 
ate  thereof  with  all  his  might,  till  he  had  gotten  his  fill, 
when  he  called  one  of  the  slave-girls  and  said  to  her, 
"  What  is  thy  name  ? "  "  My  name  is  Miskeh,"  replied 
she,  and  he  said  to  another,  "  What  is  thy  name  ?  "  Quoth 
she,  "  My  name  is  Terkeh."      Then  said  he  to  a  third, 

*  i.t.  the  raised  recess  situate  at  the  upper  end  of  an  Oriental  saloon, 
wherein  ii  the  place  of  hunoor. 


22 

"What  is  thy  name?"  "My  name  is  Tuhfeh,'*  answered 
she;  and  he  went  on  to  question  the  damsels  of  their 
names,  one  alter  another,  [till  he  had  made  the  round  ol 
them  all],  when  he  rose  from  that  place  and  removed  to 
the  wine-chamber. 

He  found  it  every  way  complete  and  saw  therein  ten 
great  trays,  full  of  all  finits  and  cakes  and  all  manner 
sweetmeats.  So  he  sat  down  and  ate  thereof  after  the 
measure  of  his  sufficiency,  and  finding  there  three  troops 
of  singing-girls,  was  amazed  and  made  the  girls  eat 
Then  he  sat  and  the  singers  also  seated  themselves,  whilst 
the  black  slaves  and  the  white  slaves  and  the  eunuchs 
and  pages  and  boys  stood,  and  the  slave-girls,  some  of 
them,  sat  and  some  stood.  The  damsels  sang  and  warbled 
all  manner  melodies  and  the  place  answered  them  for  the 
sweetness  of  the  songs,  whilst  the  pipes  cried  out  and  the 
lutes  made  accord  with  them,  till  it  seemed  to  Abonlhusn 
that  he  was  in  Paradise  and  his  heart  was  cheered  and 
his  breast  dilated.  So  he  sported  and  joyance  waxed  on 
him  and  he  bestowed  dresses  of  honour  on  the  damsels 
and  gave  and  bestowed,  challenging  this  one  and  kissing 
that  and  toying  with  a  third,  plying  one  with  wine  and 
another  with  meat,  till  the  night  fell  down. 

All  this  while  the  Khalif  was  diverting  himself  with 
watching  him  and  laughing,  and  at  nightfall  he  bade  one 
of  the  slave-girls  drop  a  piece  of  henbane  in  the  cup  and 
give  it  to  Aboulhusn  to  drink.  So  she  did  as  he  bade 
ner  and  gave  Aboulhusn  the  cup,  whereof  no  sooner  had 
he  drunken  than  his  head  forewent  his  feet  [and  he  fell 
down,  senseless].    Therewith  the  Khalif  came  forth  from 


23 

behind  the  curtain,  laughing,  and  calling  to  the  servant 
who  had  brought  Aboulhusn  to  the  palace,  said  to  him, 
"Carry  this  fellow  to  his  own  place."  So  Mesrour  took 
him  up  [and  carrying  him  to  his  own  house],  set  him 
down  in  the  saloon.  Then  he  went  forth  from  him  and 
shutting  the  saloon-door  upon  him,  returned  to  the  Khalif, 
who  slept  till  the  morrow. 

As  for  Aboulhusn,  he  gave  not  over  sleeping  till  God 
the  Most  High  brought  on  the  morning,  when  he  awoke, 
crying  out  and  saying,  "  Ho,  Tuffaheh  1  Ho,  Rahet  el 
Culoub  I  Ho,  Miskeh  1  Ho,  Tuhfeh  1 "  And  he  gave  not 
over  calling  upon  the  slave-girls  till  his  mother  heard  him 
calling  upon  strange  damsels  and  rising,  came  to  him 
and  said,  "  The  name  of  God  encompass  thee  1  Arise,  O 
my  son,  O  Aboulhusn  1  Thou  dreamest."  So  he  opened 
his  eyes  and  finding  an  old  woman  at  bis  head,  raised 
his  eyes  and  said  to  her,  "  Who  art  thou  ? "  Quoth  she, 
"  I  am  thy  mother ; "  and  he  answered,  "  Thou  liest  I  I 
am  the  Commander  of  the  Faithful,  the  Vicar  of  God." 
Whereupon  his  mother  cried  out  and  said  to  him,  "  God 
preserve  thy  reason !  Be  silent,  O  my  son,  and  cause  not 
the  loss  of  our  lives  and  the  spoiling  of  thy  wealth,  [as 
will  assuredly  betide,]  if  any  hear  this  talk  and  carry  it  to 
the  Khalif." 

So  he  rose  from  his  sleep  and  finding  himself  in  his 
own  saloon  and  his  mother  by  him,  misdoubted  of  his 
wit  and  said  to  her,  "  By  Allah,  O  my  mother,  I  saw 
myself  in  a  dream  in  a  palace,  with  slave-girls  and 
servants  about  me  and  in  attendance  upon  me,  and  I  sat 
upon  the  throne  of  the  Khalifate  and  ruled.    By  Allah, 


24 

0  my  mother,  this  is  what  I  saw,  and  verily  it  was  not 
a  dream  1 "  Then  he  bethought  himself  awhile  and  said, 
"Assuredly,  I  am  Aboulhusn  el  Khelia,  and  this  that  I 
saw  was  only  a  dream,  and  [it  was  in  a  dream  that]  I  was 
made  KhaUf  and  commanded  and  forbade.**  Then  he 
bethought  himself  again  and  said,  *'Nay,  but  it  was  no 
dream  and  I  am  no  other  than  the  Khalif,  and  indeed 

1  gave  gifts  and  bestowed  dresses  of  honour."  Quoth  his 
mother  to  him,  '*  O  my  son,  thou  sportest  with  thy  reason : 
thou  wilt  go  to  the  hospital  and  become  a  gazing -stock. 
Indeed,  that  which  thou  hast  seen  is  only  from  the  Devil 
and  it  was  a  delusion  of  dreams,  for  whiles  Satan  sporteth 
with  men's  wits  in  all  manner  ways." 

Then  said  she  to  him,  "  O  my  son,  was  there  any  one 
with  thee  yesternight?"  And  he  bethought  himself  and 
said,  "  Yes ;  one  lay  the  night  with  me  and  I  acquainted 
him  with  my  case  and  told  him  my  story.  Doubtless,  he 
was  from  the  Devil,  and  I,  O  my  mother,  even  as  thou 
sayst  truly,  am  Aboulhusn  el  Khelia."  "  O  my  son,"  re- 
joined she,  "rejoice  in  tidings  of  all  good,  for  yesterday's 
record  is  that  there  came  the  Vivier  Jaafer  the  Barme- 
cide [and  his  company]  and  beat  the  sheikhs  of  the 
mosque  and  the  Imam^  each  four  hundred  lashes ;  after 
which  they  paraded  them  about  the  city,  making  procla- 
mation before  them  and  saying,  '  This  is  the  reward  and 
the  least  of  the  reward  of  whoso  lacketh  of  goodwill  to 
his  neighbours  and  troubleth  on  them  their  lives!'  and 
banished  them  from  Baghdad.  Moreover,  the  Khalif  sent 
me  a  hundred  dinars  and  sent  to  salute  me."  Whereupon 
Aboulhusn  cried  out  and  said  to  her,   "  O  old  woman  of 


25 

fll-omen,  wilt  thou  contradict  me  and  tell  me  that  1  am 
not  the  Commander  of  the  Faithful  ?  It  was  I  who  com- 
manded Jaafer  the  Barmecide  to  beat  the  sheikhs  and 
parade  them  about  the  city  and  make  proclamation  before 
them  and  who  sent  thee  the  hundred  dinars  and  sent  to 
salute  thee,  and  I,  O  beldam  of  ill-luck,  am  in  very  deed 
the  Commander  of  the  Faithful,  and  thou  art  a  liar,  who 
would  make  me  out  a  dotard." 

So  saying,  he  fell  upon  her  and  beat  her  with  a  staff  of 
almond-wood,  till  she  cried  out,  "[Help],  O  Muslims!" 
and  he  redoubled  the  beating  upon  her,  till  the  folk  heard 
her  cries  and  coming  to  her,  [found]  Aboulhusn  beating 
her  and  saying  to  her,  "  O  old  woman  of  ill-omen,  am 
I  not  the  Commander  of  the  Faithful?  Thou  hast 
enchanted  me  1 "  When  the  folk  heard  his  words,  they 
said,  "This  man  raveth,"  and  doubted  not  of  his  madness. 
So  they  came  in  upon  him  and  seizing  him,  pinioned 
him  and  carried  him  to  the  hospital.  Quoth  the  super- 
intendant,  "What  aileth  this  youth?"  And  they  said, 
"  This  is  a  madman."  "  By  Allah,"  cried  Aboulhusn, 
**  they  lie  against  me !  I  am  no  madman,  but  the 
Commander  of  the  Faithful."  And  the  superintendant 
answered  him,  saying,  "  None  lieth  but  thou,  O  unluckiest 
of  madmen  1 " 

Then  he  stripped  him  of  his  clothes  and  clapping  on 
his  neck  a  heavy  chain,  bound  him  to  a  high  lattice  and 
fell  to  drubbing  him  two  bouts  a  day  and  two  anights; 
and  on  this  wise  he  abode  the  space  of  ten  days. 
Then  his  mother  came  to  him  and  said,  "  O  my  son, 
O  Aboulhusn,  return  to  thy  reason,  for  this  is  the  Devil's 


26 

doing."  Quoth  he,  "Thou  sayst  sooth,  O  my  mother, 
and  bear  thou  witness  of  me  that  I  repent  [and  forswear] 
that  talk  and  turn  from  my  madness.  So  do  thou  deliver 
me,  for  I  am  nigh  upon  death."  So  his  mother  went  out 
to  the  superintendant  and  procured  his  release  and  he 
returned  to  his  own  house. 

Now  this  was  at  the  beginning  of  the  month,  and  when 
it  was  the  end  thereof,  Aboulhusn  longed  to  drink  wine 
and  returning  to  his  former  usance,  furnished  his  saloon 
and  made  ready  food  and  let  bring  wine ;  then,  going 
forth  to  the  bridge,  he  sat  there,  expecting  one  whom  he 
should  carouse  withal,  as  of  his  wont  As  he  sat  thus, 
behold,  up  came  the  Khalif  [and  Mesrour]  to  him ;  but 
Aboulhusn  saluted  them  not  and  said  to  them,  "  No 
welcome  and  no  greeting  to  the  perverters !  *  Ye  are  no 
other  than  devils."  However,  the  Khalif  accosted  him 
and  said  to  him,  "O  my  brother,  did  I  not  say  to  thee 
that  I  would  return  to  thee?"  Quoth  Aboulhusn,  "I  have 
no  need  of  thee  ;  and  as  the  byword  says  in  verse  : 

'Twere  fitter  and  better  my  loves  that  I  leave,  For,  if  the  eye  see  no^ 
the  heart  will  not  grieve. 

And  indeed,  O  ray  brother,  the  night  thou  camest  to 
me  and  we  caroused  together,  I  and  thou,  it  was  as  if  the 
Devil  came  to  me  and  troubled  me  that  night."  "And 
who  is  he,  the  Devil?"  asked  the  Khalif.  "He  is 
none  other  than  thou,"  answered  Aboulhusn ;  whereat  the 
Khalif  smiled  and  sitting  down  by  him,  coaxed  him  and 
spoke  him  fair,  saying,  "  O  my  brother,  when  I  went  out 
from  thee,  I  foigot  [to  shut]  the  door  [and  left  it]  open, 
*■  id.  the  necromancers. 


27 

and  belike  Satan  came  in  to  thee."  Quoth  Aboulhusn, 
"Ask  me  not  of  that  which  hath  betided  me.  What 
possessed  thee  to  leave  the  door  open,  so  that  the  Devil 
came  in  to  me  and  there  befell  me  with  him  this  and 
that?"  And  he  related  to  him  all  that  had  befallen 
him,  from  first  to  last,  ai.d  there  is  no  advantage  in  the 
repetition  of  it;  what  while  the  Khalif  laughed  and  hid 
his  laughter. 

Then  said  he  to  Aboulhusn,  "  Praised  be  God  who  hath 
done  away  from  thee  that  which  irked  thee  and  that  I  see 
thee  in  weal  1 "  And  Aboulhusn  said,  "  Never  again  will 
I  take  thee  to  boon-companion  or  sitting-mate;  for  the 
byword  saith,  '  Whoso  stumbleth  on  a  stone  and  retumeth 
thereto,  blame  and  reproach  be  upon  him.'  And  thou, 
O  my  brother,  nevermore  will  I  entertain  thee  nor  use 
companionship  with  thee,  for  that  I  have  not  found  thy 
commerce  propitious  to  me."  *  But  the  Khalif  blandished 
him  and  conjured  him,  redoubling  words  upon  him 
with  "  Verily,  I  am  thy  guest ;  reject  not  the  guest,"  till 
Aboulhusn  took  him  and  [carrying  him  home],  brought 
him  into  the  saloon  and  set  food  before  him  and  friendly 
entreated  him  in  speech.  Then  he  told  him  all  that  had 
befallen  him,  whilst  the  Khalif  was  like  to  die  of  hidden 
laughter;  after  which  Aboulhusn  removed  the  tray  of 
food  and  bringing  the  wine-tray,  filled  a  cup  and  emptied 
it  out  three  times,  then  gave  it  to  the  Khalif,  saying, 
**0  boon-companion  mine,  I  am  thy  slave  and  let  not 
that  which  I  am  about  to  say  irk  thee,  and  be  thou  not 

^  Lit  I  have  not  found  that  thoa  bast  a  heel  blessed  (or  propitious) 
tomb 


28 

vexed,  neither  do  thou  vex  me."    And  he  recited  these 
verses : 

No  good's  in  life  (to  the  cotinsel  list  of  one  who's  purpose-whole,)  An  if 
thou  be  not  drunken  still  and  gladden  not  thy  sool. 

Ay,  ne'er  will  I  leave  to  drink  of  wine,  what  while  the  night  on  me 
Darkens,  till  drowsiness  bow  down  my  head  upon  my  bowL 

In  wine,  as  the  glittering  sunbeams  bright,  my  heart's  contentment  i% 
That  banishes  hence,  with  various  joys,  all  kinds  of  care  and  dole. 

When  the  Khalif  heard  these  his  verses,  he  was  moved 
to  exceeding  delight  and  taking  the  cup,  drank  it  off,  and 
they  ceased  not  to  drink  and  carouse  till  the  wine  rose 
to  their  heads.  Then  said  Aboulhusn  to  the  Khalif, 
"O  boon-companion  mine,  of  a  truth  I  am  perplexed 
concerning  ray  affair,  for  meseemed  I  was  Commander  of 
the  Faithful  and  ruled  and  gave  gifts  and  largesse,  and 
in  very  deed,  O  my  brother,  it  was  not  a  dream."  "  These 
were  the  delusions  of  sleep,"  answered  the  Khalif  and 
crumbling  a  piece  of  henbane  into  the  cup,  said  to  him, 
"By  my  life,  do  thou  drink  this  cup."  And  Aboulhusn 
said,  "Surely  I  will  drink  it  from  thy  hand."  Then  he 
took  the  cup  from  the  Khalifs  hand  and  drank  it  off, 
and  no  sooner  had  it  settled  in  his  belly  than  his  head 
forewent  his  feet  [and  he  fell  down  senseless]. 

Now  his  parts  and  fashions  pleased  the  Khalif  and  the 
excellence  of  his  composition  and  his  frankness,  and  he 
said  in  himself,  "I  will  assuredly  make  him  my  cup- 
companion  and  sitting-mate."  So  he  rose  forthright  and 
saying  to  Mesrour,  "Take  him  up,"  [returned  to  the 
palace].  Accordingly,  Mesrour  took  up  Aboulhusn  and 
carrying  him  to  the  palace   of    the    Khalifate,  set  him 


29 

down  before  Er  Reshid,  who  bade  the  slaves  and  slave- 
girls  encompass  him  about,  whilst  he  himself  hid  in  a 
place  where  Aboulhusn  could  not  see  him. 

Then  he  commanded  one  of  the  slave-girls  to  take  the 
lute  and  strike  it  at  Aboulhusn's  head,  whilst  the  rest 
smote  apon  their  instruments.  [So  they  played  and 
sang,]  till  Aboulhusn  awoke  at  the  last  of  the  night  and 
heard  the  noise  of  lutes  and  tabrets  and  the  sound  of 
the  pipes  and  the  singing  of  the  slave-girls,  whereupon 
he  opened  his  eyes  and  finding  himself  in  the  palace, 
with  the  slave-girls  and  eunuchs  about  him,  exclaimed, 
*  There  is  no  power  and  no  virtue  but  in  God  the  Most 
High,  the  Supreme !  Verily,  I  am  fearful  of  the  hospital 
and  of  that  which  I  suffered  therein  aforetime,  and  I  doubt 
not  but  the  Devil  is  come  to  me  again,  as  before.  O  my 
God,  put  thou  Satan  to  shame ! "  Then  he  shut  his  eyes 
and  laid  his  head  in  his  sleeve  and  fell  to  laughing  softly 
and  raising  his  head  [bytimes],  but  [still]  found  the  apart- 
ment lighted  and  the  girls  singing. 

Presently,  one  of  the  eunuchs  sat  down  at  his  head  and 
said  to  him,  "  Sit  up,  O  Commander  of  the  Faithful,  and 
look  on  thy  palace  and  thy  slave-girls."  Quoth  Aboul- 
husn, "By  the  protection  of  God,  am  I  in  truth  Com- 
mander of  the  Faithful  and  dost  thou  not  lie  ?  Yesterday, 
I  went  not  forth  neither  ruled,  but  drank  and  slept,  and 
this  eunuch  cometh  to  rouse  me  up."  Then  he  sat  up 
and  bethought  himself  of  that  which  had  betided  him 
with  his  mother  and  how  he  had  beaten  her  and  entered 
the  hospital,  and  he  saw  the  marks  of  the  beating,  where- 
withal the  superintendant  of  the  hospital  had  beaten  him, 


30 

and  was  perplexed  concerning  his  affair  and  pondered  in 
himself,  sajring,  "By  Allah,  I  know  not  how  my  case  is 
nor  what  is  this  that  betideth  me  1 " 

Then  he  turned  to  a  damsel  of  the  damsels  and  said 
to  her,  "  Who  am  I  ?  "  Quoth  she,  "  Thou  art  the  Com- 
mander of  the  Faithful;"  and  he  said,  "Thou  liest,  O 
calamity  I  ^  If  I  be  indeed  the  Commander  of  the  Faith- 
ful, bite  my  finger."  So  she  came  to  him  and  bit  it  with 
her  might,  and  he  said  to  her,  "  It  sufficeth."  Then  he 
said  to  the  chief  eunuch,  "Who  am  I?"  And  he  an- 
swered, "  Thou  art  the  Commander  of  the  Faithful."  So 
he  left  him  and  turning  to  a  Uttle  white  slave,  said  to 
him,  "  Bite  my  ear ; "  and  he  bent  down  to  him  and  put 
his  ear  to  his  mouth.  Now  the  slave  was  young  and 
lacked  understanding ;  so  he  closed  his  teeth  upon  Aboul- 
husn's  ear  with  his  might,  till  he  came  near  to  sever  it; 
and  he  knew  not  Arabic,  so,  as  often  as  Aboulhusn  said 
to  him,  "  It  sufficeth,"  he  concluded  that  he  said,  "  Bite 
harder,"  and  redoubled  his  bite  and  clenched  his  teeth 
upon  the  ear,  whilst  the  damsels  were  diverted  from  him 
with  hearkening  to  the  singing-girls,  and  Aboulhusn  cried 
out  for  succour  from  the  boy  and  the  Khalif  [well-nigh] 
lost  his  senses  for  laughter. 

Then  he  dealt  the  boy  a  cuff  and  he  let  go  his  ear, 
whereupon  Aboulhusn  put  oflF  his  clothes  and  abode  naked, 
with  his  yard  and  his  arse  exposed,  and  danced  among 
the  slave-girls.  They  bound  his  hands  and  he  wantoned 
among  them,  what  while  they  [well-nigh]  died  of  laugh- 
ing at  him  and   the   Khalif  swooned  away  for  excess  of 

*  i.t,  O  thoa  who  art  a  calamity  to  those  who  have  to  do  with  the«  I 


31 

laughter.  Then  he  came  to  himself  and  going  forth  to 
Aboulhusn,  said  to  him,  "  Out  on  thee,  O  Aboulhusn  I 
Thou  slayest  me  with  laughter."  So  he  turned  to  him 
and  knowing  him,  said  to  him,  "By  Allah,  it  is  thou 
slayest  me  and  slayest  my  mother  and  slewest  the  sheikhs 
and  the  Imam  of  the  Mosque  1 " 

Then  the  Khalif  took  him  into  his  especial  favour  and 
married  him  and  bestowed  largesse  on  him  and  lodged 
him  with  himself  in  the  palace  and  made  him  of  the  chief 
of  his  boon-companions,  and  indeed  he  was  preferred 
with  him  above  them  and  the  Khalif  advanced  him  over 
them  all  Now  they  were  ten  in  number,  to  wit.  El  Ijli 
and  Er  Recashi  and  Ibdan  and  Hassan  el  Feresdec  and 
El  Lauz  and  Es  Seker  and  Omar  et  Tertis  and  Abou 
Nuwas*  and  Abou  Ishac  en  Nedim  and  Aboulhusn  el 
Khelia,  and  by  each  of  them  hangeth  a  story  that  is  told 
in  other  than  this  book.  And  indeed  Aboulhusn  became 
high  in  honour  with  the  Khalif  and  favoured  above  all, 
so  that  he  sat  with  him  and  the  Lady  Zubeideh  bint  el 
Casim  and  married  the  lattefs  treasuress,  whose  name  was 
Nuzhet  el  Fuad. 

Aboulhusn  abode  with  his  wife  in  eating  and  drinking 
and  all  delight  of  life,  till  all  that  was  with  them  was 
spent,  when  he  said  to  her,  "  Harkye,  O  Nuzhet  el  Fuad ! " 
"  At  thy  service,"  answered  she,  and  he  said,  "  I  have  it 
in  mind  to  play  a  trick  on  the  Khalif  and  thou  shalt  do 
the  like  with  the  Lady  Zubeideh,  and  we  will  take  of 
them,  in  a  twinkling,  two  hundred  dinars  and  two  pieces 
of  silk."  "  As  thou  wilt,"  answered  she ;  "  but  what  thinkest 
^  Abou  Nuwas  ibn  Hani,  the  greatest  poet  of  the  tune. 


32 

thou  to  do?"  And  he  said,  "We  will  feign  ourselvet 
dead  and  this  is  the  irick.  I  will  die  before  thee  and 
lay  myself  out,  and  do  thou  spread  over  me  a  kerchief  of 
silk  and  loose  [the  muslin  of]  my  turban  over  me  and  tie 
my  toes  and  lay  on  my  heart  a  knife  and  a  little  salt.^ 
Then  let  down  thy  hair  and  betake  thyself  to  thy  mistress 
Zubeideh,  tearing  thy  -tiress  and  buffeting  thy  face  and 
crying  out.  She  will  say  to  thee,  'What  aileth  thee?* 
and  do  thou  answer  her,  saying,  'May  thy  head  outlive 
AboulhusD  el  Khelia  1  For  he  is  dead.'  She  will  mourn 
for  me  and  weep  and  bid  her  treasuress  give  thee  a 
hundred  dinars  and  a  piece  of  silk  and  will  say  to  thee, 
*  Go  lay  him  out  and  carry  him  forth  [to  burial].'  So  do 
thou  take  of  he"-  the  hundred  dinars  and  the  piece  of  silk 
and  come  back,  and  when  thou  returnest  to  me,  I  will 
rise  up  and  thou  shalt  lie  down  in  my  place,  and  I  will 
go  to  the  Khalif  and  say  to  him,  *  May  thy  head  outlive 
Nuzhet  el  Fuad!'  and  tear  my  dress  and  pluck  at  my 
beard.  He  will  mourn  for  thee  and  say  to  his  treasurer, 
*Give  Aboulhusn  a  hundred  dinars  and  a  piece  of  silk.* 
Then  he  will  say  to  me,  '  Gk) ;  lay  her  out  and  carry  her 
forth  ; '  and  I  will  come  back  to  thee." 

Therewith  Nuzhet  el  Fuad  rejoiced  and  said,  "  Indeed, 
this  is  an  excellent  device."  [Then  Aboulhusn  stretched 
himself  out]  forthright  and  she  shut  his  eyes  and  tied 
his  feet  and  covered  him  with  the  kerchief  and  did  what 
[else]  her  lord  had  bidden  her;  after  which  she  rent  her 
dress  and  uncovering  her  head,  let  down  her  hair  and 
weol:  in  to  the  Lady  Zubeideh,  crying  out  and  weeping. 
^  As  a  charm  against  evil  spirits. 


33 

When  the  princess  saw  her  in  this  case,  she  said  to  her, 
"  What  plight  is  this  [in  which  I  see  thee]  ?  What  is 
thy  story  and  what  maketh  thee  weep?"  And  Nuzhet 
el  Fuad  answered,  weeping  and  crying  out  the  while, 
"O  ray  lady,  may  thy  head  live  and  mayst  thou  survive 
Aboulhusn  el  Khelia!  For  he  is  dead."  The  Lady 
Zubeideh  mourned  for  him  and  said,  "  Alas  for  Aboulhusn 
el  Khelia  I "  And  she  wept  for  him  awhile.  Then  she 
bade  her  treasuress  give  Nuzhet  el  Fuad  a  hundred  dinars 
and  a  piece  of  silk  and  said  to  her,  "  O  Nuzhet  el  Fuad, 
go,  lay  him  out  and  carry  him  forth." 

So  she  took  the  hundred  dinars  and  the  piece  of  silk 
and  returned  to  her  dwelling,  rejoicing,  and  went  in  to 
Aboulhusn  and  told  him  what  had  befallen,  whereupon  he 
arose  and  rejoiced  and  girt  his  middle  and  danced  and 
took  the  hundred  dinars  and  the  piece  of  silk  and  laid 
them  up.  Then  he  laid  out  Nuzhet  el  Fuad  and  did  with 
her  even  as  she  had  done  with  him ;  after  which  he  rent 
his  clothes  and  plucked  out  his  beard  and  disordered 
his  turban  [and  went  forth]  and  gave  not  over  running 
till  he  came  in  to  the  Khalif,  who  was  sitting  in  the  hall 
of  audience,  and  he  in  this  plight,  beating  upon  his 
breast.  Quoth  the  Khalif  to  him,  "What  aileth  thee, 
O  Aboulhusn  I "  And  he  wept  and  said,  "  Would  thy 
boon -companion  had  never  been  and  would  his  hour 
had  never  comel"  "Tell  me  [thy  case,]"  said  the 
Khalif;  and  Aboulhusn  said,  "  O  my  lord,  may  thy  head 
outlive  Nuzhet  el  Fuad!"  Quoth  the  Khalif,  "There 
is  no  god  but  God  1 "  And  he  smote  hand  upon  hand. 
Then  he  comforted  Aboulhusn  and  said  to  him,  "  Grieve 

TOL.   I.  3 


34 

not,  for  we  will  give  thee  a  concubine  other  than  she.** 
And  he  bade  the  treasurer  give  him  a  hundred  dinars  and 
a  piece  of  silk.  So  the  treasurer  gave  him  what  the 
Khalif  bade  him,  and  the  latter  said  to  him,  "Go,  lay 
her  out  and  carry  her  forth  and  make  her  a  handsome 
funeral."  So  Aboulhusn  took  that  which  he  had  given 
him  and  returning  to  his  house,  rejoicing,  went  in  to 
Nuzhet  el  Fuad  and  said  to  her,  "Arise,  for  the  wish 
is  accomplished  mito  us."  So  she  arose  and  he  laid 
before  her  the  hundred  dinars  and  the  piece  of  silk, 
whereat  she  rejoiced,  and  they  added  the  gold  to  the  gold 
and  the  silk  to  the  silk  and  sat  talking  and  laughing  at 
one  another. 

Meanwhile,  when  Aboulhusn  went  out  from  the  presence 
of  the  Khalif  and  went  to  lay  out  Nuzhet  el  Fuad,  the 
prince  mourned  for  her  and  dismissing  the  divan,  arose 
and  betook  himself,  leaning  upon  Mesrour,  the  swordsman 
of  his  vengeance,  [to  the  pavilion  of  the  harem,  where 
he  went  in]  to  the  Lady  Zubeideh,  that  he  might  condole 
with  her  for  her  slave-girl.  He  found  the  princess  sitting 
weeping  and  awaiting  his  coming,  so  she  might  condole 
with  him  for  [his  boon-companion]  Aboulhusn  el  Khelia. 
So  he  said  to  her,  "May  thy  head  outlive  thy  slave-girl 
Nuzhet  el  Fuad  I "  And  she  answered,  saying,  "  O  my 
lord,  God  preserve  my  slave-girl!  Mayst  thou  live  and 
long  survive  thy  boon-companion  Aboulhusn  el  Khelia  1 
For  he  is  dead." 

The  Khalif  smiled  and  said  to  his  eunuch,  "  O  Mesrour, 
verily  women  are  little  of  wit  I  conjure  thee,  by  Allah, 
say,  was  not  Aboulhusn    with    me   but  now?"    ["Yes, 


35 

O  Commajder  of  the  Faithful,"  answered  Mesrour.] 
Quoth  the  Lady  Zubeideh,  laughing  from  a  heart  full  of 
wrath,  "Wilt  thou  not  leave  thy  jesting?  Is  it  not 
enough  that  Aboulhusn  is  dead,  but  thou  must  kill  my 
slave-gu-1  also  and  bereave  us  of  the  two  and  style 
me  little  of  wit?"  "Indeed,"  answered  the  Khalif, 
"it  is  Nuzhet  el  Fuad  who  is  dead."  And  Zubeideh 
said,  "  Indeed  he  hath  not  been  with  thee,  nor  hast  thou 
seen  him,  and  none  was  with  me  but  now  but  Nuzhet 
el  Fuad,  and  she  sorrowful,  weeping,  with  her  clothes 
torn.  I  exhorted  her  to  patience  and  gave  her  a  hundred 
dinars  and  a  piece  of  silk ;  and  indeed  I  was  awaiting  thy 
coming,  so  I  might  condole  with  thee  for  thy  boon- 
companion  Aboulhusn  el  Khelia,  and  was  about  to  send 
for  thee."  The  Khalif  laughed  and  said,  "  None  is  dead 
but  Nuzhet  el  Fuad ; "  and  she,  **  No,  no,  my  lord ;  none 
is  dead  but  Aboulhusn." 

With  this  the  Khalif  waxed  wroth,  and  the  Hashimi 
vein*  started  out  from  between  his  eyes  and  he  cried  out 
to  Mesrour  and  said  to  him,  "  Go  forth  and  see  which  of 
them  is  dead."  So  Mesrour  went  out,  nmning,  and  the 
Khalif  said  to  Zubeideh,  "Wilt  thou  lay  me  a  wager?" 
**Yes,"  answered  she;  "I  will  wager,  and  I  say  that 
Aboulhusn  is  dead."  "And  I,"  rejoined  the  Khalif, 
"  wager  and  say  that  none  is  dead  save  Nuzhet  el  Fuad ; 
imd  the  stake  shall  be  the  Garden  of  Pleasance  against  thy 
palace  and  the  Pavilion  of  Pictures."     So   they   [agreed 

*  *>.  the  vein  said  to  have  been  peculiar  to  the  descendants  of  liashim, 
grandfather  of  Abbas  and  great-grandson  of  Mohammed,  and  to  have 
Started  oat  between  their  eyes  in  moments  of  anger. 


36 

opon  this  and]  abode  awaiting  Mesrour,  till  such  time  aa 
he  should  return  with  news. 

As  for  Mesrour,  he  gave  not  over  running  till  he  came 
to  the  by-street,  [wherein  was  the  house]  of  Aboulhusn  el 
Khelia.  Now  the  latter  was  sitting  reclining  at  the  lattice, 
and  chancing  to  look  round,  saw  Mesrour  running  along 
the  street  and  said  to  Nuzhet  el  Fuad,  "Meseemeth  the 
Khalif,  when  I  went  forth  from  him,  dismissed  the  Divan 
and  went  in  to  the  Lady  Zubeideh,  to  condole  witli  her 
[for  thee;]  whereupon  she  arose  and  condoled  with  him 
[for  me,]  saying,  'God  greaten  thy  recompence  for  [the 
loss  of]  Aboulhusn  el  Khelia!'  And  he  said  to  her, 
■  None  is  dead  save  Nuzhet  el  Fuad,  may  thy  head  out- 
live her!*  Quoth  she,  *It  is  not  she  who  is  dead,  but 
Aboulhusn  el  Khelia,  thy  boon-companion.'  And  he  to 
her,  '  None  is  dead  but  Nuzhet  el  Fuad.'  And  they 
gamsaid  one  another,  till  the  Khalif  waxed  wroth  and 
they  laid  a  wager,  and  he  hath  sent  Mesrour  the  sword- 
bearer  to  see  who  is  dead.  Wherefore  it  were  best  that 
thou  lie  down,  so  he  may  see  thee  and  go  and  acquaint 
the  Khalif  and  confirm  my  saying."  So  Nuzhet  el  Fuad 
stretched  herself  out  and  Aboulhusn  covered  her  with  her 
veil  and  sat  at  her  head,  weeping. 

Presently,  in  came  Mesrour  the  eunuch  to  him  and 
saluted  him  and  seeing  Nuzhet  el  Fuad  stretched  out, 
uncovered  her  face  and  said,  "  There  is  no  god  but  God  I 
Our  sister  Nuzhet  el  Fuad  is  dead.  How  sudden  was  the 
[stroke  of]  destiny!  May  God  have  mercy  on  thee  and 
acquit  thee  of  responsibility  1 "  Then  he  returned  and 
related  what  had  passed  before  the  Khalif  and  the  Ladf 


37 

Zubeideh,  and  he  laughing.  "O  accursed  one,'  said  the 
Khalif,  "is  this  a  time  for  laughter?  Tell  us  which 
is  dead  of  them."  "By  Allah,  O  my  lord,"  answered 
Mesrour,  "  Aboulhusn  is  well  and  none  is  dead  but  Nuzhet 
el  Fuad."  Quoth  the  Khalif  to  Zubeideh,  "Thou  hast 
lost  thy  pavilion  in  thy  play,"  and  he  laughed  at  her  and 
said  to  Mesrour,  **  O  Mesrour,  tell  her  what  thou  sawest." 
"  Verily,  O  my  lady,"  said  the  eunuch,  "  I  ran  Mrithout 
ceasing  till  I  came  in  to  Aboulhusn  in  his  house  and  found 
Nuzhet  el  Fuad  lying  dead  and  Aboulhusn  sitting  at  her 
head,  weeping.  I  saluted  him  and  condoled  with  him  and 
Bat  down  by  his  side  and  uncovered  the  face  of  Nuzhet  el 
Fuad  and  saw  her  dead  and  her  face  swollen.  So  I  said  to 
him,  '  Carry  her  out  forthright  [to  burial],  so  we  may  pray 
over  her.'  He  answered,  *It  is  well ;'  and  I  left  him  to  lay 
her  out  and  came  hither,  that  I  might  tell  you  the  news." 

The  KhaUf  laughed  and  said,  "  Tell  it  again  and  again 
to  thy  lady  lack-wit."  When  the  Lady  Zubeideh  heard 
Mesrour's  words  [and  those  of  the  Khalif,]  she  was  wroth 
and  said,  "None  lacketh  wit  but  he  who  believeth  a 
black  slave."  And  she  reviled  Mesrour,  whilst  the  Khalif 
laughed.  Mesrour  was  vexed  at  this  and  said  to  the 
Khalif,  "  He  spoke  sooth  who  said,  *  Women  lack  wit 
and  religion.'"  Then  said  the  Lady  Zubeideh  to  the 
Khalif,  "  O  Commander  of  the  Faithful,  thou  sportest  and 
jestest  with  me,  and  this  slave  hoodwinketh  me,  to  please 
thee;  but  I  will  send  and  see  which  is  dead  of  them." 
And  he  answered,  saying,  "Send  one  who  shall  see  which 
is  dead  of  them."  So  the  Lady  Zubeideh  cried  out  to  an 
old  woman,  a  stewardess,  and  said  to  her,  "Go  to  the 


38 

house  of  Nuzhet  el  Fuad  in  haste  and  see  who  is  dead 
and  loiter  not"    And  she  railed  at  her. 

The  old  woman  went  out,  running,  whilst  the  Khalif 
and  Mesrour  laughed,  and  gave  not  over  running  till  she 
came  into  the  street.  Aboulhusn  saw  her  and  knowing 
her,  said  to  his  wife,  "  O  Nuzhet  el  Fuad,  meseemeth  the 
Lady  Zubeideh  hath  sent  to  us  to  see  who  is  dead 
and  hath  not  given  credence  to  Mesrour's  report  of 
thy  death;  so  she  hath  despatched  the  old  woman,  her 
stewardess,  to  discover  the  truth;  wherefore  it  behoveth 
me  to  be  dead  in  my  turn,  for  the  sake  of  thy  credit 
with  the  Lady  Zubeideh."  Accordingly,  he  lay  down  and 
stretched  himself  out,  and  she  covered  him  and  bound 
his  eyes  and  feet  and  sat  at  his  head,  weeping. 

Presently,  the  old  woman  came  in  to  her  and  saw  her 
sitting  at  Aboulhusn's  head,  weeping  and  lamenting;  and 
when  she  saw  the  old  woman,  she  cried  out  and  said 
to  her,  "See  what  hath  betided  me!  Indeed,  Aboulhusn 
is  dead  and  hath  left  me  alone  and  forlorn  I "  Then  she 
cried  out  and  tore  her  clothes  and  said  to  the  old  woman, 
"O  my  mother,  how  good  he  was  I"  Quoth  the  other, 
"  Indeed  thou  art  excused,  for  thou  wast  used  to  him  and 
he  to  thee."  Then  she  considered  what  Mesrour  had 
reported  to  the  Khalif  and  the  Lady  Zubeideh  and  said 
to  her,  "  Indeed,  Mesrour  goeth  about  to  sow  discord 
between  the  Khalif  and  the  Lady  Zubeideh."  "  And  what 
is  the  [cause  of]  discord,  O  my  mother?"  asked  Nuzhet 
el  Fuad.  "  O  my  daughter,"  answered  the  old  woman, 
"  Mesrour  came  to  the  Khalif  and  the  Lady  Zubeideh  and 
gave  them  news  of  thee   that  thou  wast  dead  and  that 


39 

Aboulhusn  was  well."  And  Nuzhet  el  Fuad  said  to  her, 
"O  my  atint,  I  was  with  my  lady  but  now  and  she  gave 
me  a  hundred  dinars  and  a  piece  of  silk;  and  now  see 
my  condition  and  that  which  hath  befallen  me !  Indeed, 
I  am  bewildered,  and  how  shall  I  do,  and  I  alone,  forlorn  ? 
Would  God  I  had  died  and  he  had  lived ! " 

Then  she  wept  and  the  old  woman  with  her  and  the 
latter  went  up  to  Aboulhusn  and  uncovering  his  face,  saw 
his  eyes  bound  and  swollen  for  the  binding.  So  she 
covered  him  again  and  said,  "  Indeed,  O  Nuzhet  el  Fuad, 
thou  art  afflicted  in  Aboulhusn ! "  Then  she  condoled 
with  her  and  going  out  from  her,  ran  without  ceasing  till 
she  came  in  to  the  Lady  Zubeideh  and  related  to  her  the 
story ;  and  the  princess  said  to  her,  laughing,  "  Tell  it 
over  again  to  the  Khalif,  who  maketh  me  out  scant  of 
wit  and  lacking  of  religion,  and  to  this  ill-omened  slave, 
who  presumeth  to  contradict  me."  Quoth  Mesrour,  "  This 
old  woman  lieth;  for  I  saw  Aboulhusn  well  and  Nuzhet 
cl  Fuad  it  was  who  lay  dead."  "It  is  thou  that  liest," 
rejoined  the  stewardess,  "and  wouldst  fain  sow  discord 
between  the  Khalif  and  the  Lady  Zubeideh."  And  he 
said,  "None  lieth  but  thou,  O  old  woman  of  ill-omen, 
and  thy  lady  believeth  thee,  and  she  doteth."  Whereupon 
the  Lady  Zubeideh  cried  out  at  him,  and  indeed  she  was 
enraged  at  him  and  at  his  speech  and  wept 

Then  said  the  Khalif  to  her,  "I  lie  and  my  eunuch 
lieth,  and  thou  liest  and  thy  waiting-woman  lieth  j  so 
methinks  we  were  best  go,  all  four  of  us  together,  that  we 
may  see  which  of  us  telleth  the  truth."  Quoth  Mesrour, 
''Come,  let  as  go,  that  I  may  put  this  ill-omened   old 


40 

woman  to  shame*  and  deal  her  a  sound  drubbing  foi 
her  l)ring."  And  she  answered  him,  saying,  "O  dotard, 
is  thy  wit  like  unto  ray  wit?  Indeed,  thy  wit  is  as  the 
hen's  wit."  Mesrour  was  incensed  at  her  words  and  would 
have  laid  violent  hands  on  her,  but  the  Lady  Zubeideh 
warded  him  off  from  her  and  said  to  him,  "  Her  sooth- 
fastness  will  presently  be  distinguished  from  thy  sooth- 
fastness  and  her  leasing  from  thy  leasing." 

Then  they  all  four  arose,  lajdng  wagers  with  one  another, 
and  went  forth,  walking,  from  the  palace-gate  [and  fared 
on]  till  they  came  in  at  the  gate  of  the  street  in  which 
Aboulhusn  el  Khelia  dwelt  He  saw  them  and  said  to 
his  wife  Nuzhet  el  Fuad,  "  Verily,  all  that  is  sticky  is  not 
a  pancake  and  not  every  time  cometh  the  jar  off  safe.* 
Meseemeth  the  old  woman  hath  gone  and  told  her  lady 
and  acquainted  her  with  our  case  and  she  hath  disputed 
with  Mesroiu-  the  eunuch  and  they  have  laid  wagers  with 
one  another  about  our  death  and  are  come  to  us,  all  four, 
the  KLhalif  and  the  eunuch  and  the  Lady  Zubeideh  and 
the  old  woman."  When  Nuzhet  el  Fuad  heard  this,  she 
started  up  from  her  lying  posture  and  said,  "  How  shall 
we  do?"  And  he  said,  "We  will  both  feign  oiu^elves 
dead  and  stretch  ourselves  out  and  hold  our  breath."  So 
she  hearkened  unto  him  and  they  both  lay  down  on  the 
siesta[-carpet]  and  bound  their  feet  and  shut  their  eyes 
and  covered  themselves  with  the  veil  and  held  their  breath. 

Presently,  up  came  the  Khalif  and  the  Lady  Zubeideh 

*  Lit.  that  I  may  do  upon  her  sinister  deeds. 

'  "  The  pitcher  comes  not  always  back  unbroken  from  the  welL  *'•■ 
English  proverb. 


41 

and  Mesrour  and  the  old  woman  and  entering,  found 
Aboulhusn  and  his  wife  both  stretched  out  [apparently] 
dead ;  which  when  the  Lady  Zubeideh  saw,  she  wept  and 
said,  "They  ceased  not  to  bring  [ill]  news  of  my  slave- 
girl,  till  she  died;  methinketh  Aboulhusn's  death  was 
grievous  to  her  and  that  she  died  after  him."*  Quoth 
the  Khalif,  "Thou  shalt  not  forestall  me  with  talk  and 
prate.  She  certainly  died  before  Aboulhusn,  for  he  came 
to  me  with  his  clothes  torn  and  his  beard  plucked  out, 
beating  his  breast  with  two  bricks,  and  I  gave  him  a 
hundred  dinars  and  a  piece  of  silk  and  said  to  him,  '  Go, 
carry  her  forth  [and  bury  her]  and  I  will  give  thee  a 
concubine  other  than  she  and  handsomer,  and  she  shall 
be  in  stead  of  her.'  But  it  would  appear  that  her  death 
was  no  light  matter  to  him  and  he  died  after  her;*  so  it 
is  I  who  have  beaten  thee  and  gotten  thy  stake." 

The  Lady  Zubeideh  answered  him  many  words  and  the 
talk  waxed  amain  between  theuL  At  last  the  Khalif  sat 
down  at  the  heads  of  the  pair  and  said,  "  By  the  tomb  of 
the  Apostle  of  God  (may  He  bless  and  preserve  him  1 ) 
and  the  sepulchres  of  my  fathers  and  forefathers,  whoso 
will  tell  me  which  of  them  died  before  the  other,  I  will 
willingly  give  him  a  thousand  dinars !  "  When  Aboulhusn 
heard  the  Khalifs  words,  he  sprang  up  in  haste  and  said, 
"  I  died  first,  O  Commander  of  the  Faithful !  Hand  over 
the  thousand  dinars  and  quit  thine  oath  and  the  conjura- 
tion by  which  thou  sworest."  Then  Nuzhet  el  Fuad 
rose  also  and  stood  up  before  the  Khalif  and  the  Lady 
Zubeideh,  who  both  rejoiced  in  this  and  in  their  safety, 
*  i.t,  of  Bonow  for  his  loss  *  «.«  of  grief  for  her  Iom. 


42 

and  the  princess  chid  her  slave-girl.  Then  the  Khalif  and 
the  Lady  Zubeideh  gave  them  joy  at  their  well-being  and 
knew  that  this  [pretended]  death  was  a  device  to  get  the 
money  ;  and  the  princess  said  to  Nuzhet  el  Fuad,  "  Thoa 
shouldst  have  sought  of  me  that  which  thou  desiredst, 
without  this  fashion,  and  not  have  consumed  my  heart  for 
thee."  And  she  said,  "  Indeed,  I  was  ashamed,  O  my  lady." 

As  for  the  Khalif,  he  swooned  away  for  laughing  and 
said,  "  O  Aboulhusn,  thou  wUt  never  cease  to  be  a  wag 
and  do  rarities  and  oddities  I "  Quoth  he,  **  O  Commander 
of  the  Faithful,  I  played  off  this  trick,  for  that  the  money 
was  exhausted,  which  thou  gavest  me,  and  I  was  ashamed 
to  ask  of  thee  again.  When  I  was  single,  I  could  never 
keep  money ;  but  since  thou  marriedst  me  to  this  damsel 
here,  if  I  possessed  thy  wealth,  I  should  make  an  end 
of  it  So,  when  all  that  was  in  my  hand  was  spent,  I 
wrought  this  trick,  so  I  might  get  of  thee  the  hundred 
dmars  and  the  piece  of  silk ;  and  all  this  is  an  alms  from 
our  lord.  But  now  make  haste  to  give  me  the  thousand 
dinars  and  quit  thee  of  thine  oath." 

The  Khalif  and  the  Lady  Zubeideh  laughed  and  re- 
turned to  the  palace ;  and  he  gave  Aboulhusn  the  thousand 
dinars,  saying,  "Take  them  as  a  thank-offering  for  thy 
preservation  from  death,"  whilst  the  princess  did  the  like 
with  Nuzhet  el  Fuad.  Moreover,  the  Khalif  increased 
Aboulhusn  in  his  stipends  and  allowances,  and  he  [and 
his  wife]  ceased  not  [to  live]  in  joy  and  contentment 
till  there  came  to  them  the  Destroyer  of  Delights  and 
Sunderer  of  Companies,  he  who  layeth  waste  the  palacei 
and  peopleth  the  tombs. 


THE 

KHALIF  OMAR  BEN  ABDULAZIZ 

AND  THE  POETS. 


THE   KHALIF   OMAR   BEN   ABDULAZIZ  AND 
THE  POETS.* 

It  is  said  that,  when  the  Khallfate  devolved  oo  Omai 
ben  Abdulaziz*  (of  whom  God  accept),  the  poets  [of  the 
time]  resorted  to  him,  as  they  had  been  used  to  resort 
to  the  Khalifs  before  him,  and  abode  at  his  door  days  and 
days,  but  he  gave  them  not  leave  to  enter,  till  there  came 
to  Omar  Adi  ben  Artah,»  who  stood  high  in  esteem  with 
him.  Jerir*  accosted  him  and  begged  him  to  crave  ad- 
mission for  them  [to  the  Khalif  ],  "  It  is  well,"  answered 
Adi  and  going  in  to  Omar,  said  to  him,  •*  The  poets  are 
at  thy  door  and  have  been  there  days  and  days ;  yet  hast 
thou  not  given  them  leave  to  enter,  albeit  their  sayings 
are  abiding  •  and  their  arrows  go  straight  to  the  mark." 
Quoth  Omar,  "What  have  I  to  do  with  the  poets?"  And 
Adi  answered,  saying,  "  O  Commander  of  the  Faithful* 
the  Prophet  (whom  God  bless  and  preserve)  was  praised 

*  Breslau  Text,  toL  vi.  pp.  182-188,  Nights  ccccxxxii-ccccxzxiv. 

*  The  eighth  Khalif  (a.D.  717-720)  of  the  house  of  Umejryeh  and  the 
best  and  most  single-hearted  of  all  the  Khalifs,  with  the  exception  of  the 
second,  Omar  ben  Khettab,  from  whom  he  was  descended. 

*  A  celebrated  statesman  of  the  time,  afterwards  governor  of  Cufii 
and  Rassora  under  Omar  ben  Abdulaziz. 

*  The  most  renowned  poet  of  the  first  century  of  the  Hegira.  He  is 
■aid  to  have  been  equally  skilled  in  all  styles  of  composition  giav« 
and  gay. 

*  Or  eternaL 


i 


46 

[by  a  poet]  and  gave  [him  largesse,]  and  therein  i  is  an 
exemplar  to  every  Muslim."  Quoth  Omar,  *'And  who 
praised  him  ?  "  "  Abbas  ben  Mirdas "  praised  him,",  replied 
Adi,  "and  he  clad  him  with  a  suit  and  said,  *0  Bilal," 
cut  oflf  from  me  his  tongue  I  "*  "  Dost  thou  remember 
what  he  said?"  asked  the  Khalif;  and  Adi  said,  "Yes." 
**  Then  repeat  it,"  rejoined  Omar.  So  Adi  recited  the 
following  verses : 

I  saw  thee,  O  thou  best  of  all  the  hninan  race,  display  A  book  that 

came  to  teach  the  Truth  to  those  in  error's  way. 
Thou  madest  known  to  us  therein  the  road  of  righteousness,  When  we 

had  wandered  from  the  Truth,  what  while  in  gloom  it  lay. 
A  dark  affair  thou  littest  up  with  Islam  and  with  proof  Quenchedst  the 

flaming  red-coals  of  error  and  dismay. 
Mohammed,  then,  I  do  confess,  God's  chosen  prophet  is,  And  every 

man  requited  is  for  that  which  he  doth  say. 
The  road  of  right  thou  hast  made  straight,  that  erst  was  crooked  grown; 

Yea,  for  its  path  of  old  had  fall'n  to  ruin  and  decay. 
Exalted  mayst  thoa  be  above  tb'  empyrean  heaven  of  joy  And  nuy 

God's  glory  greater  grow  and  more  exalted  aye  I 

»  Or^inhinu" 

*  Chief  of  the  tribe  of  the  Benoa  Suleim.  Et  Teberi  tells  this  stmy 
in  a  different  way.  According  to  him.  Abbas  ben  Mirdas  (who  was  a 
well-known  poet),  being  dissatisfied  with  the  portion  of  booty  allotted 
to  him  by  the  Prophet,  refused  it  and  composed  a  lampoon  against 
Mohammed,  who  said  to  Ali,  "Cut  off  this  tongue  which  attacketh 
me,"  i.e.  "  Silence  him  by  giving  what  will  satisfy  him,"  whereupon  Ali 
doubled  the  covetous  chiefs  share. 

*  Bilal  ibn  Rebeh  was  the  Prophet's  freedman  and  crier.  The  word 
^Va/ signifies  "  moisture"  or  (metonymically)  "beneficence"  and  it  may 
well  be  in  this  sense  (and  not  as  a  man's  name)  that  it  is  used  in  th« 
test 


47 

**And  indeed,"  continued  Adi,  "this  ode  on  the  Prophet 
(may  God  bless  and  keep  him!)  is  well  known  and  to 
comment  it  would  be  tedious."  Quoth  Omar,  "  Who  is  at 
the  door?"  "Among  them  is  Omar  ibn  [Abi]  Rebya  the 
Cureishite," *  answered  Adi,  and  the  Khalif  said,  "May 
God  show  him  no  favour  neither  quicken  him !  Was  it 
not  he  who  said  ....?"  And  he  recited  the  following 
verses : 

Would  God  upon  that  bitterest  day,  when  my  death  calls  for  me,  What's 
'twixt  thine  excrement  and  blood'  I  still  may  smell  of  thee! 

Yea,  so  but  Selma  in  the  dust  my  bedfellow  may  prove,  Fair  fall  it  thee  I 
In  heaven  or  hell  I  reck  not  if  it  be. 

"Except,"  continued  the  Khalif,  "he  were  the  enemy 
of  God,  he  had  wished  for  her  in  this  world,  so  he  might 
after  [repent  and]  return  to  righteous  dealing.  By  Allah, 
he  shall  not  come  in  to  me!  Who  is  at  the  door  other 
than  he?"  Quoth  Adi,  "Jemil  ben  Mamer  el  Udhri* 
is  at  the  door;"  and  Omar  said,  "It  is  he  who  says  in 
one  of  his  odes "  .  .  .  .  [And  he  recited  the  following :] 

Would  we  may  live  together  and  when  we  come  to  die,  God  grant  the 
death-sleep  bring  me  within  her  tomb  to  lie  I 

For  if  "Her  grave  above  her  is  levelled"  it  be  said.  Of  life  and  its  con- 
tinuance no  jot  indeed  reck  I. 

*  Said  to  have  been  the  best  poet  ever  produced  by  the  tribe  of 
Cureish.  His  introduction  here  is  an  anachronism,  as  he  died  A.O.  712, 
five  years  before  Omar's  accession. 

'  ix,  odorem  pudendorum  amicse? 

•  A  famous  poet  of  the  tribe  of  the  Benoa  Udhreh,  renowned  for  their 
passionate  sincerity  in  love-matters.  He  is  celebrated  as  the  lover  of 
Butheineh,  as  Petrarch  of  Laura,  and  died  A.D.  701,  sixteen  years  before 
Omar's  accession. 


48 

"Away  with  him  from  met  Who  is  at  the  door?" 
"Kutheiyir  Azzeh,"^  replied  Adi,  and  Omar  said,  "It  is 

he  who  says  in  one  of  his  odes •"    [And  he 

repeated  the  following  verses :] 

Some  with  religion  themselves  concern  and  make  it  their  business  all  | 
Sitting,"  they  weep  for  the  pains  of  hell  and  still  for  mercy  bawl  1 

If  they  could  hearken  to  Azzeh's  speech,  as  I,  I  hearken  lo  it.  They 
straight  would  humble  themselves  to  her  and  prone  before  her  falL 

** Leave  the  mention  of  him.  Who  is  at  the  door?" 
Quoth  Adi,  "El  Akhwes  el  Ansari.'"  "God  the  Most 
High  put  him  away  and  estrange  him  from  His  mercy  1 " 
cried  Omar.  "Is  it  not  he  who  said,  berhyming  on  a 
man  of  Medina  his  slave-girl,  so  she  might  outlive  her 
master  ..,.?'*    [And  he  repeated  the  following  line :] 

God  [judge]  betwixt  me  and  her  lord !  Away  With  her  he  flees  me  and 
I  follow  aye. 

"  He  shall  not  come  in  to  me.  Who  is  at  the  door,  other 
than  he?"     "Heman  ben  Ghalib  el  Ferezdec," *  answered 

*  A  friend  of  Jemil  and  a  poet  of  equal  renown.  He  is  celebrated  as 
the  lover  of  Azzeh,  whose  name  is  commonly  added  to  his,  and  kept  a 
grocer's  shop  at  Medina.  •  i.e.  in  the  attitude  of  prayer. 

■  A  famous  satirical  poet  of  the  time,  afterwards  banished  by  Omar 
for  the  virulence  of  his  lampoons.  His  name  is  wrongly  given  by  the 
text ;  it  should  be  EI  Ahwes.  He  was  a  descendant  of  the  Ansar  or 
(Medinan)  helpers  of  Mohammed. 

*  A  famous  poet  of  the  tribe  of  the  Benou  Temim  and  a  rival  of  Jerir, 
to  whom  he  was  by  some  preferred.  He  was  a  notorious  debauchee  and 
Jerir,  in  one  of  the  satires  that  were  perpetually  exchanged  between 
himself  and  El  Ferezdec,  accuses  his  rival  of  having  "never  been  a 
guest  in  any  house,  bat  he  departed  with  ignominy  and  left  behind  him 
disgrace." 


49 

Adi;  and  Omar  said,  "It  is  he  who  saith,  glorying  in 
adultery  .  .  .  . "    [And  he  repeated  the  following  verses :] 

The  two  girls  let  me  down  from  fourscore  fathoms'  height.  As  swoops  a 

hawk,  with  wings  all  open  in  full  flight ; 
And  when  my  feet  trod  earth,  "  Art  slain,  that  we  should  fear,"  Qaoth 

they,  '•  or  live,  that  we  may  hope  again  thy  sight?* 

"  He  shall  not  come  in  to  me.    Who  is  at  the  door,  other 
than   he?"     "El   Akhtel    et    Teghlibi,"^  answered   Adi; 
and  Omar  said,  "  He  is  the  unbeliever  who  says  in  his 
verse  .  .  .  . "    [And  he  repeated  the  following :] 
Ramazan  in  my  life  ne'er  I  fasted,  nor  e'er  Have  I  eaten  of  flesh,  save 

in  public'  it  were. 
No  exhorter  am  I  to  abstain  from  the  fair,  Nor  to  love  Mecca's  vale  for 

my  profit  I  care; 
Nor,  like  others  a  little  ere  morning  appear  who  bawl,  "Come  to 

safety!"*  I  stand  up  to  prayer. 
Nay,  at  daybreak  I  drink  of  the  wind-freshened  wine  And  proatrate  me* 

instead  in  the  dawn-whitened  air. 

"By  Allah,  he  treadeth  no  carpet  of  mine!  Who  is 
at  the  door  other  than  he?"  "Jerir  ibn  el  Khetefa," 
answered  Adi ;  and  Omar  said,  "  It  is  he  who  saith  .  .  .  ,* 
[And  he  recited  as  follows :] 

^  A  Christian  and  a  celebrated  poet  of  the  time. 

■  The  poet  apparently  meant  to  insinuate  that  those  who  professed  to 
keep  the  fast  of  Ramazan  ate  flesh  in  secret.  The  word  rendered  "  in 
public,"  «.^.  openly,  avowedly,  may  also  perhaps  be  translated  "in  the 
forenoon,"  and  in  this  El  Akhtel  may  have  meant  to  contrast  his  fi-e©- 
thinking  disregard  of  the  ordinances  of  the  fast  with  the  strictness  of  the 
orthodox  Muslim,  whose  only  meals  in  Ramazan-time  are  made  between 
lunset  and  dawn-peep.  As  soon  as  a  white  thread  can  be  distinguished 
from  a  black,  the  fast  is  begun  and  a  true  believer  must  not  even  smoke 
or  swallow  his  saliva  till  sunset. 

*  Prominent  words  of  the  Muezzin's  fore-dawn  call  to  prajer. 

*  i.e.  fall  down  drunk. 

VOL.   I.  A 


50 

But  for  the  spying  of  the  eyet  [Ol-omened,]  we  had  seen  Wild  catUini 

eyes  and  antelopes'  tresses  of  sable  sheen. 
The  huntress  of  th'  eyes*  by  night  came  to  me.     "  Turn  in  peaoe^' 
[Quoth  I  to  her;]  "  This  is  no  time  for  visiting,  I  ween." 

"  If  it  must  be  and  no  help,  admit  Jerir."     So  Adi  went 

forth  and  admitted  Jerir,  who  entered,  saying : 

He,  who  Mohammed  sent,  as  prophet  to  mankind.  Hath  to  a  just  high- 
priest"  the  Khalifate  assijjned. 

His  justice  and  his  truth  all  creatures  do  embrace ;  The  erring  he  corrects 
and  those  of  wandering  mind. 

I  hope  for  present*  good  [and  bounty  at  thy  hand,]  For  souls  of  men 
are  still  to  present'  good  inclined. 

Quoth  Omar,  "O  Jerir,  keep  the  fear  of  God  before 

thine  eyes  and  say  nought  but   the  truth."    And  Jerir 

recited  the  following  verses  : 

How  many,  in  Yemameh,*  dishevelled  widows  plain !    How  numy  • 

weakling  orphan  unsuccoured  doth  remain. 
For  whom  is  thy  departure  even  as  a  father's  loss  I  To  fly  or  creeps 

like  nestlings,  alone,  they  strive  in  vain. 
Now  that  the  clouds  have  broken  their  promise  to  our  hope.  We  tnut 

the  Khalifs  bounty  will  stand  to  us  for  rain.* 

When  the  Khalif  heard  this,  he  said,  "  By  Allah,  O  Jerir, 
Omar  possesseth  but  a  hundred  dirhems." '  [And  he  cried 
out  to  his  servant,  saying,]  "  Ho,  boy !  give  them  to  him.* 
Moreover,  he  gave  him  the  ornaments  of  his  sword ;  and 
Jerir  went  forth  to  the  [other]  poets,  who  said  to  him, 
"What  is  behind  thee?"'  And  he  answered,  "A  man 
who  giveth  to  the  poor  and  denieth  the  poets,  and  I  am 
well-pleased  with  him."* 

*  ue.  she  who  ensnares  [all]  eyes. 

*  Imam,  the  spiritual  title  of  the  Khalif^  as  head  of  the  Faith  and 
leader  (lit.  "  foreman")  of  the  people  at  prayer,  •  Or  "  worldly. ** 

*  A  town  and  province  of  Arabia,  of  which  (inter  alia)  Omar  ben 
Abdulaziz  was  governor,  before  he  came  to  the  Khalifate. 

'  Sjm.  munificence.  •  About  £,-2.  lai. 

'  iM  what  is  thy  news?  'Or  "I  approve  of  him." 


EL   HEJJAJ   AND   THE   THREE 
YOUNG  MEN. 


EL  HEJJAJ  AND  THE  THREE  YOUNG  MEN.» 

They  tell  that  El  Hejjaj'  once  commanded  the  Master 
of  Police  [of  Bassora]  to  go  round  about  [the  city]  by 
night,  and  whomsoever  he  found  [abroad]  after  nightfall, 
that  he  should  strike  ofif  his  head.  So  he  went  round 
one  night  of  the  nights  and  came  upon  three  youths 
staggering  from  side  to  side,  and  on  them  signs  of 
[intoxication  with]  wine.  So  the  officers  laid  hold  of 
them  and  the  captain  of  the  watch  said  to  them, 
"  Who  are  ye  that  ye  transgress  the  commandment  of 
the  [lieutenant  of  the]  Commander  of  the  Faithful  and 
come  abroad  at  this  hour  ?  "  Quoth  one  of  the  youths,  "  I 
am  the  son  of  him  to  whom  [all]  necks  >  abase  themselves, 
alike  the  nose-pierced*  of  them  and  the  [bone-]breaker  ;• 
they  come  to  him  in  their  own  despite,  abject  and  submis- 
sive, and  he  taketh  of  their  wealth*  and  of  their  blood." 

The  master  of  police  held  his  hand  from  him,  saying, 
"Belike  he  is  of  the  kinsmen  of  the  Commander  of  the 
Faithful,"  and  said  to  the    second,    "Who    art    thou?" 

*  Breslau  Text,  voL  vL  pp.  188-9,  Night  ccccxxxiv. 

*  £1  Hejjaj  ben  Yousuf  eth  Thekefi,  a  famous  statesman  and  soldier 
of  the  seventh  and  eighth  centuries.  He  was  governor  of  Chaldaea 
(Irak  Arabi),  under  the  fifth  and  sixth  Khalifs  of  the  Ommiade  dynasty, 
and  was  renowned  for  his  cruelty,  but  appears  to  have  been  a  prudent 
and  capable  administrator,  who  used  no  more  rigour  than  was  necessary 
to  restrain  the  proverbially  turbulent  populations  of  Bassora  and  Cufa. 
Most  (if  the  anecdotes  of  his  brutality  and  tyranny,  which  abound  in 
Arab  authors,  are,  in  all  probability,  apocryphaL 

'  Used,  by  synecdoche,  for  "  heads." 

*  ».«.  the  governed,  to  wit,  he  who  is  led  by  a  halter  attached  (meta- 
phorically  of  course)  to  a  ring  passed  through  his  nose,  as  with  a  cameL 

*  ix.  the  governor  or  he  who  is  high  of  rank. 

*  I.*,  their  hair,  which  may  be  considered  the  wealth  of  the  head. 
This  whole  passace  is  a  description  jl  double-entente  of  a  barber-sargeoiu 


54 

Quoth  he,  **!  am  the  son  of  him  whose  ranki  time 
abaseth  not,  and  if  it  descend'  one  day,  it  will  assuredly 
return  [to  its  former  height]  j  thou  seest  the  folk  [crowd] 
in  troops  to  the  light  of  his  fire,  some  standing  around  it 
and  some  sitting."  So  the  master  of  the  police  refrained 
from  slaying  him  and  said  to  the  third,  "  Who  art  thou  ?  ** 
Quoth  he,  "I  am  the  son  of  him  who  plungeth  through 
the  ranks'  with  his  might  and  correcteth*  them  with  the 
sword,'  so  that  they  stand  straight  ;*  his  feet  are  not 
loosed  from  the  «tirrup,r  whenas  the  horsemen  on  the 
day  of  battle  are  weary."  So  the  master  of  police  held 
his  hand  from  him  also,  saying,  "Belike,  he  is  the  son 
of  a  champion  of  the  Arabs." 

Then  he  kept  them  under  guard,  and  when  the  morning 
morrowed,  he  referred  their  case  to  El  Hejjaj,  who  caused 
bring  them  before  him  and  enquiring  into  their  afiiair, 
found  that  the  first  was  the  son  of  a  barber-surgeon,  the 
second  of  a  [hot]  bean-seller  and  the  third  of  a  weaver.  So 
he  marvelled  at  their  readiness  of  speech*  and  said  to  his 
session-mates,  "  Teach  your  sons  deportment  ;•  for,  by  Allah, 
but  for  their  ready  wit,  I  had  smitten  off  their  heads  I " 

*  Syn.  cooking-pot 

*  Syn.  be  lowered.  This  passage  is  •  rimilar  description  of  an  itine- 
rant hot  bean>seller. 

*  The  rows  of  threads  on  a  weaver's  loom.  *  Syn.  levelleth. 

*  t>.  that  of  wood  used  by  the  Oriental  weaver  to  govern  the  warp 
and  weft  •  Syn.  behave  aright. 

'  The  loop  of  thread  so  called  in  which  the  weaver's  foot  rests. 

*  Syn.  eloquence. 

'  Adeb,  one  of  the  terribly  comprehensive  words  which  abound  in 
Arabic  literature  for  the  confusion  of  translators.  It  signifies  generally 
all  kinds  of  education  and  means  of  mental  and  moral  discipline  and 
seems  here  to  mean  more  particularly  readiness  of  wit  and  speech  o( 
presence  of  mind. 


HAROUN  ER  RESHID  AND  THE 
WOMAN  OF  THE  BARMECIDES. 


HAROUN  ER  RESHID  AND  THE  WOMAN  OF 
THE  BARMECIDES.' 

They  tell  that  Haroun  er  Reshid  was  sitting  oue  day 
to  do  away  grievances,  when  there  came  up  to  him  a 
woman  and  said  to  him,  "  O  Commander  of  the  Faithful, 
Boay  God  accomplish  thine  affair  and  cause  thee  rejoice 
in  that  which  He  hath  given  thee  and  increase  thee  in 
elevation  1  Indeed,  thou  hast  done  justice*  and  wrought 
equitably."'  Quoth  the  Khalif  to  those  who  were  present 
with  him,  "  Know  ye  what  this  woman  meaneth  by  her 
saying  ? "  And  they  answered,  "  Of  a  surety,  she  meaneth 
not  otherwise  than  well,  O  Commander  of  the  Faithful." 
"  Nay,"  rejoined  Haroun ;  "  she  purposeth  only  in  this 
an  imprecation  against  me.  As  for  her  saying,  *  God 
accomplish  thine  affair ! '  she  hath  taken  it  from  the 
saying  of  the  poet,  'When  an  affair  is  accomplished, 
its  abatement*  beginneth.  Beware  of  cessation,  whenas 
it  is  said,  "It  is  accomplished."'  As  for  her  saying  *God 
cause  thee  rejoice  in  that  which  He  hath  given  thee,'  she 
took  it  from  the  saying  of  God  the  Most  High,  'Till, 
whenas  they  rejoiced  in  that  which  they  were  given,  we 

•  Breslau  Text,  vol.  ri.  pp.  189-191,  Night  ccccxxxiT. 

'  Syn.  (Koranic)  "  Thou  hast  sweived  from  justice "  or  **  been  on* 
fust"  iflcUlta)' 

•  Syn.  (Koranic)  "  Thou  hast  transgressed  "  {casU-t€t^ 

•  Or  falling-away. 


58 

took  Hhem  suddenly  and  lo,  they  were  confounded!'*  At 
for  her  saying,  *  God  increase  thee  in  elevation  I '  she  took 
it  from  the  saying  of  the  poet,  '  No  bird  flieth  and  riseth 
up  on  high,  but,  like  as  he  flieth,  he  falleth.'  And  as  for 
her  sa)ring,  'Indeed,  thou  hast  done  justice  and  wrought 
equitably,*  it  is  from  the  saying  of  the  Most  High,  *[I£ 
ye  deviate*  or  lag  behind  or  turn  aside,  verily,  God  of  that 
which  ye  do  is  aware;"  and]  *  As  for  the  transgressors," 
they  are  fiiel  for  hell['fire]."'* 

Then  he  turned  to  the  woman  and  said  to  her,  "  Is  it 
not  thus?**  "Yes,  O  Commander  of  the  Faithful," 
answered  she ;  and  he  said,  "  What  prompted  thee  to 
this?"  Quoth  she,  "Thou  slewest  my  father  and  my 
mother  and  my  kinsfolk  and  tookest  their  goods." 
"Whom  meanest  thou?"  asked  the  Khalif,  and  she 
replied,  "I  am  of  the  house  of  Bermek."*  Thens  aid 
he  to  her,  "  As  for  the  dead,  they  are  of  those  who  are  past 
away,  and  it  booteth  not  to  speak  of  them ;  but,  as  for 
that  which  I  took  of  wealth,  it  shall  be  restored  to  thee^ 
yea,  and  more  than  it"  And  he  was  bountiful  to  her 
to  the  utmost  of  munificence. 

*  Koran  vi.  44. 

*  Or  do  injustice,  tadilou  (syn.  do  justice). 

*  Koran  iv.  134. 

*  El  casitouna  (syn.  those  who  act  righteously  or  equitably). 

*  Koran  Ixxii.  1$. 

'  Nanie  of  the  Persian  ancestor  of  the  Barmecide  (properly  BtrwteUi 
fiunily. 


THE   TEN   VIZIERS. 


THE  TEN  VIZIERS;  OR  THE  HISTORY  OF  KINO 
AZADBEKHT  AND  HIS  SON/ 

There  was  once,  of  old  days,  a  king  of  the  kings,  whose 
name  was  Azadbekht ;  his  [capital]  city  was  called  Kuneim 
Mudoud  and  his  kingdom  extended  to  the  confines  of 
Sei'stan  and  from  the  frontiers  of  Hindustan  to  the  sea. 
He  had  ten  viziers,  who  ordered  his  state  and  his 
dominion,  and  he  was  possessed  of  judgment  and  ex- 
ceeding wisdom.  One  day  he  went  forth  with  certain 
of  his  guards  to  the  chase  and  fell  in  with  an  eunuch  on 
horseback,  holding  in  his  hand  the  halter  of  a  mule, 
which  he  led  along.  On  the  mule's  back  was  a  litter 
of  gold-inwoven  brocade,  garded  about  with  an  em- 
broidered band  set  with  gold  and  jewels,  and  over 
against  the  litter  was  a  company  of  horsemen.  When 
King  Azadbekht  saw  this,  he  separated  himself  from  his 
companions  and  making  for  the  mule  and  the  horsemen, 
questioned  the  latter,  saying,  "  To  whom  belongeth  this 

*  Breslaa  Text,  voL  Ti  pp.  191-343,  Nights  ccccxxr-cccclxxzvU, 
This  is  the  Arab  version  of  the  well-known  story  called,  in  Persian,  thfl 
Bekhtyar  Nameh,  ue.  the  Book  of  Bekhtyar,  by  which  name  the  prince^ 
whose  attempted  ruin  by  the  envious  viziers  ii  the  central  incident  of  the 
tale,  is  distinguished  in  that  language.  The  Arab  redaction  of  the  story 
is,  to  my  mind,  far  superior  to  the  Persian,  both  in  general  simplicity 
and  directness  of  style  and  in  the  absence  of  the  irritating  conceits  and 
moral  digressions  with  which  Persian  (as  well  as  Indian)  fiction  is  so 
often  overloaded.  The  Persian  origin  of  the  story  is  apparent,  not  only 
in  the  turn  of  the  incidents  and  style  and  the  names  of  the  personage^ 
but  in  the  fact  that  not  a  single  line  of  verse  ocean  in  U. 


63 

fitter  and  what  is  therein?**  The  eunuch  answered,  (foi 
he  knew  not  that  he  was  King  Azadbekht,)  saying,  "This 
litter  belongeth  to  Isfehend,  vizier  to  King  Azadbekht, 
and  therein  is  his  daughter,  whom  he  purposeth  to  marry 
to  Zad  Shah  the  King." 

As  the  eunuch  was  speaking  with  the  king,  behold,  the 
damsel  raised  a  comer  of  the  curtain  that  shut  in  the  litter, 
so  she  might  look  upon  the  speaker,  and  saw  the  king. 
When  Azadbekht  beheld  her  and  noted  her  fashion  and 
her  loveliness  (and  indeed  never  set  story-teller*  eyes  on 
her  like,)  his  soul  inclined  to  her  and  she  took  hold  upon 
his  heart  and  he  was  ravished  by  her  sight  So  he  said  to 
the  eunuch,  "  Turn  the  mule's  head  and  retiun,  for  I  am 
King  Azadbekht  and  I  will  marry  her  myself,  for  that 
Isfehend  her  father  a  my  vizier  and  he  will  accept  of  this 
affair  and  it  will  not  be  grievous  to  him."  "O  king," 
answered  the  eimuch,  "may  God  prolong  thy  continuance, 
have  patience  till  I  acquaint  my  lord  her  father,  and  thou 
shalt  take  her  in  the  way  of  approof,  for  it  befitteth  thee 
not  neither  is  it  seemly  unto  thee  that  thou  take  her  on 
this  wise,  seeing  that  it  will  be  an  afiront  to  her  father  if 
thou  take  her  without  his  knowledge."  Quoth  Azadbekht, 
"I  have  not  patience  [to  wait]  till  thou  go  to  her  father 
and  return,  and  no  dishonour  will  betide  him,  if  I  marry 
her.**  "O  my  lord,"  rejoined  the  eunuch,  "nought  that 
is  done  in  haste  is  long  of  durance  nor  doth  the  heart 
rejoice  therein;  and  indeed  it  behoveth  thee  not  to  take 
her  on  this  foul  wise.     Whatsoever  betideth  thee,  destroy 

*■  Rawi;  this  is  probably  a  copyist's  mistake  for  raaif  %  beholder,  on« 
wboseeth. 


6^ 

not  thyself  with  [undue]  haste,  for  I  know  that  her  father's 
breast  will  be  straitened  by  this  affair  and  this  that  thou 
dost  will  not  profit  thee."  But  the  king  said,  "Verily, 
Isfehend  is  [my  boughten]  servant  and  a  slave  of  my 
slaves,  and  I  reck  not  of  her  father,  if  he  be  vexed  or 
pleased."  So  saying,  he  drew  the  reins  of  the  mule  and 
carrying  the  damsel,  whose  name  was  Behrjaur,  to  his 
house,  married  her. 

Meanwhile,  the  eunuch  betook  himself  he  and  the 
horsemen,  to  her  father  and  said  to  him,  "  O  my  lord, 
the  king  is  beholden  to  thee  for  many  years*  service  and 
thou  hast  not  failed  him  a  day  of  the  daysj  and  now, 
behold,  he  hath  taken  thy  daughter  against  thy  wish 
and  without  thy  permission."  And  he  related  to  him 
what  had  passed  and  how  the  king  had  taken  her  by 
force.  When  Isfehend  heard  the  eunuch's  story,  he  was 
exceeding  wroth  and  assembling  many  troops,  said  to 
them,  "  Whenas  the  king  was  occupied  with  his  women 
[and  concerned  not  himself  with  the  affairs  of  his  king- 
dom], we  took  no  reck  of  him;  but  now  he  putteth  out 
his  hand  to  our  harem;  wherefore  methinketh  we  should 
do  well  to  look  us  out  a  place,  wherein  we  may  have 
sanctuary." 

Then  he  wrote  a  letter  to  King  Azadbekht,  saying  to 
him,  "  I  am  a  servant  of  thy  servants  and  a  slave  of  thy 
slaves  and  my  daughter  is  a  handmaid  at  thy  service,  and 
may  God  the  Most  High  prolong  thy  days  and  appoint 
thy  times  [to  be]  in  delight  and  contentment  I  Indeed, 
I  still  went  girded  of  the  waist  in  thy  ser\'ice  and  in 
caring  for  the  preservation  of  thy  dominion  and  warding 


64 

off  thine  enemies  from  thee ;  but  now  I  abound  yet  more 
than  before  in  zeal  and  watchfulness,  for  that  I  have  taken 
this  to  charge  upon  myself^  since  my  daughter  is  become 
thy  wife."  And  he  despatched  a  messenger  to  the  king 
with  the  letter  and  a  present 

When  the  messenger  came  to  King  Azadbekht  and  he 
read  the  letter  and  the  present  was  laid  before  him,  he 
rejoiced  with  an  exceeding  joy  and  occupied  himself 
with  eating  and  drinking,  hour  after  hour.  But  the  chief 
Vizier  of  his  Viziers  came  to  him  and  said,  "O  king, 
know  that  Isfehend  the  Vizier  is  thine  enemy,  for  that 
his  soul  liketh  not  that  which  thou  hast  done  with  him, 
and  the  message  that  he  hath  sent  thee  [b  a  trick;  so] 
rejoice  thou  not  therein,  neither  be  thou  deluded  by  the 
sweetness  of  his  words  and  the  softness  of  his  speech." 
The  king  hearkened  [not]  to  his  Vizier's  speech,  but  made 
light  of  the  matter  and  presently,  [dismissing  it  from  his 
thought],  busied  himself  with  that  which  he  was  about  of 
eating  and  drinking  and  merrymaking  and  delight 

Meanwhile,  Isfehend  the  Vizier  wrote  a  letter  and 
despatched  it  to  all  the  Amirs,  acquainting  them  with 
that  which  had  betided  him  with  King  Azadbekht  and 
how  he  had  taken  his  daughter  by  force  and  adding, 
"And  indeed  he  will  do  with  you  more  than  he  hath 
done  with  me."  When  the  letter  reached  the  chiefs  [of 
the  people  and  troops],  they  all  assembled  together  to 
Isfehend  and  said  to  him,  "What  is  to  do  with  him?"' 

'  Lit  what  was  his  affair?  It  may  be  here  obsenred  that  the  word 
i«^(how?)  is  constantly  used  in  the  Breslau  Text  in  the  sense  of  mm 
(what?). 


65 

So  he  discovered  to  them  the  affair  of  his  daughter  and 
they  all  agreed,  of  one  accord,  that  they  should  endeavoui 
for  the  slaughter  of  the  king  and  taking  horse  with  their 
troops,  set  out,  intending  for  him.  Azadbekht  knew  not 
[of  their  design]  till  the  noise  [of  the  invasion]  beset  his 
capital  city,  when  he  said  to  his  wife  Behrjaur,  "How 
shall  we  do?"  And  she  answered,  saying,  "Thou 
knowest  best  and  I  am  at  thy  commandment."  So  he 
let  bring  two  swift  horses  and  bestrode  one  himself,  whilst 
his  wife  mounted  the  other.  Then  they  took  what  they 
might  of  gold  and  went  forth,  fleeing,  in  the  night,  to  the 
desert  of  Kerman;  what  while  Isfehend  entered  the  city 
and  made  himself  king. 

Now  King  Azadbekht's  wife  was  big  with  child  and  the 
pains  of  labour  took  her  in  the  mountain  ;  so  they  alighted 
at  the  mountain-foot,  by  a  spring  of  water,  and  she  gave 
birth  to  a  boy  as  he  were  the  moon.  Behrjaur  his  mother 
pulled  oflF  a  gown  of  gold-inwoven  brocade  and  wrapped 
the  child  therein,  and  they  passed  the  night  [in  that 
place],  what  while  she  gave  him  suck  till  the  morning. 
Then  said  the  king  to  her,  "We  are  hampered  by  this 
child  and  cannot  abide  here  nor  can  we  carry  him  with 
us;  so  methinks  we  were  better  leave  him  here  and  go, 
for  Allah  is  able  to  send  him  one  who  shall  take  him 
and  rear  him."  So  they  wept  over  him  exceeding  sore 
and  left  him  beside  the  spring,  wrapped  in  the  gown  of 
brocade:  then  they  laid  at  his  head  a  thousand  dinars  in 
a  bag  and  mounting  their  horses,  departed,  fleeing. 

Now,  by  the  ordinance  of  God  the  Most  High,  a 
company  of  thieves  fell  in  upon  a  caravan  hard  by  that 
VOL.  I.  5 


66 

mountain  and  made  prize  of  that  \vhich  was  with  them 
of  merchandise.  Then  they  betook  themselves  to  the 
mountain,  so  they  might  share  their  booty,  and  looking 
at  the  foot  thereof,  espied  the  gown  of  brocade.  So  they 
descended,  to  see  what  it  was,  and  finding  the  child 
wrapped  therein  and  the  gold  laid  at  his  head,  marvelled 
and  said,  "  Extolled  be  the  perfection  of  God  1  By  what 
wickedness  cometh  this  child  here?"  Then  they  divided 
the  money  between  them  and  the  captain  of  the  thieves 
took  the  boy  and  made  him  his  son  and  fed  him  with 
sweet  milk  and  dates,  till  he  came  to  his  house,  when 
he  appointed  him  a  nurse,  who  should  rear  him. 

Meanwhile,  King  Azadbekht  and  his  wife  stayed  not  in 
their  flight  till  they  came  to  [the  court  of]  the  King  of 
Fars,*  whose  name  was  Kutrou.*  When  they  presented 
themselves  to  him,  he  entreated  them  with  honour  and 
entertained  them  handsomely,  and  Azadbekht  told  him 
his  story,  first  and  last.  So  he  gave  him  a  great  army 
and  wealth  galore  and  he  abode  with  him  some  days,  till 
he  was  rested,  when  he  made  ready  with  his  host  and 
setting  out  for  his  own  dominions,  waged  war  upon 
Isfehend  and  falling  in  upon  the  capital,  defeated  the 
rebel  vizier  and  slew  him.  Then  he  entered  the  city  and 
sat  down  on  the  throne  of  his  kingship ;  and  whenas  he 
was  rested  and  the  kingdom  was  grown  peaceful  for  him, 
he  despatched  messengers  to  the  mountain  aforesaid  in 
quest  of  the  child;  but  they  returned  and  informed  thi 
king  that  they  had  not  found  him. 

*  A  district  of  Persia,  here  probably  Persia  itself. 

'  Probably  a  corruptioa  of  Kisra  (Cbosroes). 


67 

As  time  went  on,  the  boy,  the  son  of  the  king,  grew 
up  and  fell  to  stopping  the  way*  with  the  thieves,  and 
they  used  to  carry  him  with  them,  whenas  they  went 
a-thieving.  They  sallied  forth  one  day  upon  a  caravan 
in  the  land  of  Seistan,  and  there  were  in  that  caravan 
strong  and  valiant  men  and  with  them  merchandise  galore. 
Now  they  had  heard  that  in  that  land  were  thieves ;  so 
they  gathered  themselves  together  and  made  ready  their 
arms  and  sent  out  spies,  who  returned  and  gave  them  news 
of  the  thieves.  Accordingly,  they  prepared  for  battle,  and 
when  the  robbers  drew  near  the  caravan,  they  fell  in  upon 
them  and  they  fought  a  sore  battle.  At  last  the  folk  of 
the  caravan  overmastered  the  thieves,  by  dint  of  numbers, 
and  slew  some  of  them,  whilst  the  others  fled.  Moreover 
they  took  the  boy,  the  son  of  King  Azadbekht,  and  seeing 
him  as  he  were  the  moon,  possessed  of  beauty  and  grace, 
brightfaced  and  comely  of  fashion,  questioned  him,  saying, 
"  Who  is  thy  father,  and  how  camest  thou  with  these 
thieves  ?  "  And  he  answered,  saying,  "  I  am  the  son  of  the 
captain  of  the  thieves."  So  they  took  him  and  carried 
him  to  the  capital  of  his  father  King  Azadbekht 

When  they  reached  the  city,  the  king  heard  of  their 
coming  and  commanded  that  they  should  attend  him  with 
what  befitted  [of  their  merchandise].  So  they  presented 
themselves  before  him,  [and  the  boy  with  them,]  whom 
when  the  king  saw,  he  said  to  them,  "  To  whom  belong  eth 
this  boy  ?  "  And  they  answered,  "  O  king,  we  were  going 
in  such  a  road,  when  there  came  out  upon  us  a  sort  of 
robbers ;  so  we  made  war  upon  them  and  overcame  them 
^  ijt.  waylaying  travellers,  robbing  on  the  high  road. 


68 

and  took  this  boy  prisoner.  Then  we  questioned  him, 
saying,  '  Who  is  thy  father  ? '  and  he  answered,  '  I  am  the 
captain's  son  of  the  thieves.' "  Quoth  the  king,  "  I  would 
fain  have  this  boy."  And  the  captain  of  the  caravan  said, 
"  God  maketh  thee  gift  of  him,  O  king  of  the  age,  and  we 
all  are  thy  slaves."  Then  the  king  dismissed  [the  people 
of]  the  caravan  and  let  carry  the  youth  into  his  palace 
and  he  became  as  one  of  the  servants,  what  while  his 
father  the  king  knew  not  that  he  was  his  soil  As  time 
went  on,  the  king  observed  in  him  good  breeding  and 
understanding  and  knowledge'  galore  and  he  pleased 
him ;  so  he  committed  his  treasuries  to  his  charge  and 
straitened  the  viziers'  hand  therefrom,  commanding  that 
nought  should  be  taken  forth  therefrom  except  by  leave 
of  the  youth.  On  this  wise  he  abode  a  number  of  years 
and  the  king  saw  in  him  nought  but  fidelity  and  studious- 
ness  in  well-doing. 

Now  the  treasuries  aforetime  had  been  in  the  viziers' 
hand,  so  they  might  do  with  them  what  they  would,  and 
when  they  came  under  the  youth's  hand,  that  of  the  viziers 
was  straitened  from  them,  and  the  youth  became  dearer 
to  the  king  than  a  son  and  he  could  not  brook  to  be 
separated  from  him.  When  the  viziers  saw  this,  they 
were  jealous  of  him  and  envied  him  and  cast  about 
for  a  device  against  him  whereby  they  might  oust  him 
from  the  king's  favour,  but  found  no  opportunity.  At 
last,  when  came  the  destined  hour,*  it  chanced  that 
the  youth  one  day  drank  wine  and  became  drunken 
and  wandered  from  his  wits;  so  he  fell  to  going  round 
'  Or  skill,  '  Lit.  the  descended  fiate. 


69 

about  within  the  palace  of  the   king  and  fate  led  him 

to  the  lodging  of  the  women,  in  which  there  was  a  little 

sleeping-chamber,    where    the    king    lay    with    his    wife. 

Thither  came  the  youth  and  enteni^g  the  chamber,  found 

there  a  couch   spread,  to  wit,   a  sleeping  place,  and  a 

candle    burning.     So    he    cast    himself    on    the    couch, 

marvelling  at  the  paintings   that  were   in  the  chamber, 

and  slept  and  slumbered  heavily  till  eventide,  when  there 

came  a  slave-girl,  bringing  with  her  all  the  dessert,  eatables 

and  drinkables,  that  she  was  wont  to  make  ready  for  the 

king  and  his  wife,  and  seeing  the  youth  lying  on  his  back, 

(and  none  knowing  of  his  case  and  he  in  his  drunkenness 

unknowing  where  he  was,)  thought  that  he  was  the  king 

asleep  on  his  bed  ;  so  she  set  the  censing-vessel  and  laid  the 

essences  by  the  couch,  then  shut  the  door  and  went  away. 

Presently,  the  king  arose  from  the  wine-chamber  and 

taking  his  wife  by  the  hand,   repaired  with   her   to  the 

chamber  in  which  he  slept.     He  opened  the   door  and 

entering,  saw  the  youth  lying  on  the  bed,  whereupon  he 

turned  to  his  wife  and  said  to  her,  "  What  doth  this  youth 

here?     This    fellow    cometh    not    hither    but    on     thine 

account."     Quoth   she,  "  I  have  no  knowledge  of  him." 

With  this,  the  youth  awoke  and  seeing  the  king,  sprang 

up  and  prostrated  himself  before  him,  and  Azadbekht  said 

to   him,    "O    vile  of  origin,*   O   lack-loyalty,   what    hath 

piompted  thee  to  outrage  my  dwelling?"     And  he  bade 

imprison  him  in  one  place  and  the  woman  in  another. 

*  The  Arabs  attribute  to  a  man's  parentage  absolute  power  in  the 
determination  of  his  good  and  evil  qualities ;  e.g.  the  son  of  a  slave, 
according  to  them,  can  possess  none  of  the  virtues  of  tlie  free-bom, 
whilsi  good  qualiiies  are  in  like  manner  considered  congenitally  inherent 
in  the  latter. 


OF  THE  USELESSNESS  OF  ENDEAVOUR  AGAINST 
PERSISTENT  ILL  FORTUNE. 

When  the  morning  raorrowed  and  the  king  sat  on  the 
throne  of  his  kingship,  he  summoned  the  chief  of  his 
viziers  and  said  to  him,  "What  deemest  thou  of  this 
that  yonder  robber-youth  hath  done?  Behold,  he  hath 
entered  my  house  and  lain  down  on  my  bed  and  I  fear 
lest  there  be  an  intrigue  between  him  and  the  woman. 
How  deemest  thou  of  the  affair?"  "God  prolong  the 
king's  continuance!"  replied  the  vizier.  "What  sawest 
thou  in  this  youth  [to  make  thee  trust  in  him]?  Is  he 
not  vile  of  origin,  the  son  of  thieves  ?  Needs  must  a  thief 
revert  to  his  vile  origin,  and  whoso  reareth  the  young  of 
the  serpent  shall  get  of  them  nought  but  biting.  As  for 
the  woman,  she  is  not  at  fault;  for,  since  [the]  time  [of 
her  marriage  with  thee]  till  now,  there  hath  appeared 
from  her  nought  but  good  breeding  and  modesty;  and 
now,  if  the  king  give  me  leave,  I  will  go  to  her  and 
question  her,  so  I  may  discover  to  thee  the  affair." 

The  king  gave  him  leave  for  this  and  the  vizier  betook 
himself  to  the  queen  and  said  to  her,  "  I  am  come  to 
thee,  on  account  of  a  grave  reproach,  and  I  would  have 
thee  be  truthful  with  me  in  speech  and  tell  me  how 
came  the  youth  into  the  sleeping-chamber."     Quoth  she. 


71 

"  I  have  no  knowledge  whatsoever  [of  itj,"  and  swore  to 
him  a  solemn  oath  thereof,  whereby  he  knew  that  she 
had  no  knowledge  of  the  matter  and  that  she  was  not  at 
fault  and  said  to  her,  "  I  will  teach  thee  a  device,  where- 
with thou  mayst  acquit  thyself  and  thy  face  be  whitened 
before  the  king."  "What  is  it?'*  asked  she;  and  he 
answered,  saying,  "When  the  king  calleth  for  thee  and 
questioneth  thee  of  this,  say  thou  to  him,  *  Yonder  youth 
saw  me  in  the  privy-chamber  and  sent  me  a  message, 
saying,  "  I  will  give  thee  a  hundred  jewels,  to  whose  price 
money  may  not  avail,  so  thou  wilt  suffer  me  to  foregather 
with  thee."  I  laughed  at  him  who  bespoke  me  with  these 
words  and  rebuffed  him ;  but  he  sent  again  to  me,  saying, 
"An  thou  fall  not  in  with  my  wishes,  I  will  come  one 
of  the  nights,  drunken,  and  enter  and  lie  down  in  the 
sleeping-chamber,  and  the  king  will  see  me  and  kill  me; 
so  wilt  thou  be  put  to  shame  and  thy  face  will  be 
blackened  with  him  and  thine  honour  abased." '  Be  this 
thy  saying  to  the  king,  and  I  will  presently  go  to  him 
and  repeat  this  to  him."  Quoth  the  queen,  "  And  I  also 
will  say  thus." 

So  the  vizier  returned  to  the  king  and  said  to  him, 
"Verily,  this  youth  hath  merited  grievous  punishment, 
after  abundance  of  bounty  [bestowed  on  him],  and  it  may 
not  be  that  a  bitter  kernel  should  ever  become  sweet; 
but,  as  for  the  woman,  I  am  certified  that  there  is  no 
fault  in  her."  Then  he  repeated  to  the  king  the  story 
which  he  had  taught  the  queen,  which  when  Azadbekht 
heard,  he  rent  his  clothes  and  bade  fetch  the  youth.  So 
they  brought  him  and  stationed  him  before  the  king,  who 


72 

let  bring  the  headsman,  and  the  folk  all  fixed  their  eyes 
upon  the  youth,  so  they  might  see  what  the  king  should 
do  with  him. 

Then  said  Azadbekht  to  him  (and  indeed  his  words 
were  [prompted]  by  anger  and  those  of  the  youth  by 
presence  of  mind  and  good  breeding),  "  I  bought  thee 
with  my  money  and  looked  for  fidelity  from  thee,  where- 
fore I  chose  thee  over  all  my  grandees  and  servants  and 
made  thee  keeper  of  my  treasuries  Why,  then,  hast  thou 
outraged  my  honour  and  entered  my  house  and  played 
the  traitor  with  me  and  tookest  no  thought  unto  that 
which  I  have  done  thee  of  benefits?"  **0  king," 
answered  the  youth,  "I  did  this  not  of  my  choice  and 
fi-eewill  and  I  had  no  [evil]  intent  in  being  there;  but, 
of  the  littleness  of  my  luck,  I  was  driven  thither,  for  that 
fate  was  contrary  and  fair  fortune  lacking.  Indeed,  I  had 
striven  with  all  endeavour  that  nought  of  foul  should 
proceed  from  me  and  kept  watch  over  myself,  lest  default 
appear  in  me ;  but  none  may  avail  to  make  head  against 
ill  fortune,  nor  doth  endeavour  profit  in  case  of  lack  of 
luck,  as  appeareth  by  the  example  of  the  merchant  who 
was  stricken  with  ill  luck  and  his  endeavour  profited  him 
not  and  he  succumbed  to  the  badness  of  his  fortune." 
"What  is  the  story  of  the  merchant,**  asked  the  king, 
"and  how  was  his  luck  changed  upon  him  by  the  sorri- 
ness of  his  fortvme?"  "May  God  prolong  the  king's 
continuance  I "  answered  the  youth. 


73 


STORY   OF  THE   UNLUCKY   MERCHANT. 

"There  was  once  a  man,  a  merchant,  who  was  fortunate 
in  trad^  and  at  one  time  his  [every]  dirhem  profited 
[him]  fifty.  Presently,  his  luck  turned  against  him  and 
he  knew  it  not  j  so  he  said  in  himself,  '  I  have  wealth 
galore,  yet  do  I  weary  myself  and  go  round  about  from 
country  to  country;  I  were  better  abide  in  my  own 
country  and  rest  myself  in  my  house  from  this  travail 
and  affliction  and  sell  and  buy  at  home.'  Then  he  made 
two  parts  of  his  money,  with  one  whereof  he  bought 
wheat  in  summer,  saying,  'When  the  winter  cometh,  I 
will  sell  it  at  a  great  profit.'  But,  when  the  winter  came, 
wheat  became  at  half  the  price  for  which  he  had  bought 
itf  whereat  he  was  sore  concerned  and  left  it  till  the 
next  year.  However,  next  year,  the  price  fell  yet  lower 
and  one  of  his  friends  said  to  him,  'Thou  hast  no  luck 
in  this  wheat;  so  do  thou  sell  it  at  whatsoever  price.' 
Quoth  the  merchant,  'This  long  while  have  I  profited 
and  it  is  allowable  that  I  lose  this  time.  God  is  all- 
knowing!  If  it  abide  [with  me]  half  a  score  years,  I 
will  not  sell  it  save  at  a  profit' 

Then,  in  his  anger,  he  walled  up  the  door  of  the 
granary  with  clay,  and  by  the  ordinance  of  God  the 
Most  High,  there  came  a  great  rain  and  descended  from 
the  roofs  of  the  house  wherein  was  the  wheat  [so  that 
the  latter  rotted];  and  needs  must  the  merchant  give 
the  porters  five  hundred  dirhems  fi-om  his  purse,  so  they 
should  cany  it  forth  and  cast  it  without  the  city,  for  that 


74 

the  smell  of  it  was  noisome.  So  his  friend  said  to  him, 
'  How  often  did  I  tell  thee  thou  hadst  no  luck  in  wheat  ? 
But  thou  wouldst  not  give  ear  to  my  speech,  and  now  it 
behoveth  thee  to  go  to  the  astrologer  and  question  him 
of  thy  star.'  Accordingly  the  merchant  betook  himself 
to  the  astrologer  and  questioned  him  of  his  star,  and  the 
astrologer  said  to  him,  'Thy  star  is  unpropitious.  Put 
not  thy  hand  to  any  business,  for  thou  wilt  not  prosper 
therein.'  However,  he  paid  no  heed  to  the  astrologer's 
words  and  said  in  himself,  'If  I  do  my  occasion,*  I  am 
not  afraid  of  aught.'  Then  he  took  the  other  part  of  his 
money,  after  he  had  spent  therefrom  three  years,  and  built 
[therewith]  a  ship,  which  he  loaded  with  all  that  seemed 
good  to  him  and  all  that  was  with  him  and  embarked  on 
the  sea,  so  he  might  travel. 

The  ship  tarried  with  him  some  days,  till  he  should  be 
certified  what  he  would  do,'  and  he  said,  *I  will  enquire 
of  the  merchants  what  this  merchandise  profiteth  and  in 
what  country  it  lacketh  and  how  much  is  the  gain 
thereon.'  [So  he  questioned  them  and]  they  directed 
him  to  a  far  country,  where  his  dirhem  should  profit  a 
hundredfold.  Accordingly,  he  set  sail  and  steered  for  the 
land  in  question ;  but,  as  he  went,  there  blew  on  him  a 
tempestuous  wind  and  the  ship  foundered.  The  merchant 
saved  himself  on  a  plank  and  the  wind  cast  him  up,  naked 
as  he  was,  on  the  sea-shore,  hard  by  a  town  there.  So  he 
praised  God  and  gave  Him  thanks  for  his  preservation; 
then,  seeing  a  great  village  hard  by,  he  betook  himself 
thither  and  saw,  seated  therein,  a  very  old  man,  whom  he 
*  Or  "  business."  '  i^  whither  be  should  traveL 


75 

acquainted  with  his  case  and  that  which  had  betided  him. 
The  old  man  grieved  sore  for  him,  when  he  heard  his 
story,  and  set  food  before  him.  So  he  ate  and  the  old 
man  said  to  him,  *  Abide  here  with  me,  so  I  may  make 
thee  my  steward  and  factor  over  a  farm  I  have  here,  and 
thou  shalt  have  of  me  five  dirhems'  a  day,*  *God  make 
fair  thy  reward,'  answered  the  merchant,  'and  requite 
thee  with  benefits ! ' 

So  he  abode  in  this  employ,  till  he  had  sowed  and 
reaped  and  threshed  and  winnowed,  and  all  was  sheer  in 
his  hand  and  the  owner  appointed  neither  inspector  nor 
overseer,  but  relied  altogether  upon  him.  Then  he  be- 
thought himself  and  said,  *I  misdoubt  me  the  owner  of 
this  grain  will  not  give  me  my  due ;  so  I  were  better  take 
of  it,  after  the  measure  of  my  hire ;  and  if  he  give  me  my 
due,  I  will  restore  him  that  which  I  have  taken.'  So  he 
took  of  the  grain,  after  the  measure  of  that  which  fell  to 
him,  and  hid  it  in  a  privy  place.  Then  he  carried  the  rest 
to  the  old  man  and  meted  it  out  to  him,  and  he  said  to 
him,  *Come,  take  [of  the  grain,  after  the  measure  of]  thy 
hire,  for  which  I  agreed  with  thee,  and  sell  it  and  buy 
with  the  price  clothes  and  what  not  else ;  and  though  thou 
abide  with  me  half  a  score  years,  yet  shalt  thou  still  have 
this  wage  and  I  will  acquit  it  to  thee  thus.'  Quoth  the 
merchant  in  himself,  'Indeed,  I  have  done  a  foul  thing 
in  that  I  took  it  without  his  leave.' 

Then  he  went  to  fetch  that  which  he  had  hidden  of 
the  grain,  but  found  it  not  and  returned,  perplexed  and 
sorrowful,  to  the  old  man,  who  said  to  him,  '  What  aileth 
^  About  half-a-crown. 


76 

thee  to  be  sorrowful?'  And  he  answered,  *Methought 
thou  wouldst  not  pay  me  my  due ;  so  I  took  of  the  grain, 
after  the  measure  of  my  hire;  and  now  thoa  hast  paid 
me  my  due  and  I  went  to  bring  back  to  thee  that  which 
I  had  hidden  from  thee,  but  found  it  gone,  for  those 
who  had  happened  upon  it  had  stolen  it.'  The  old 
man  was  wroth,  when  he  heard  this,  and  said  to  the 
merchant,  *  There  is  no  device  [can  cope]  with  ill  luck  1 
I  had  given  thee  this,  but,  of  the  sorriness  of  thy  luck 
and  thy  fortune,  thou  hast  done  this  deed,  O  oppressor 
of  thine  own  selfl  Thou  deemedst  I  would  not  acquit 
thee  thy  wage ;  but,  by  Allah,  nevermore  will  I  give  thee 
aught.'    And  he  drove  him  away  from  him. 

So  the  merchant  went  forth,  afflicted,  sorrowful,  weep- 
ing, [and  wandered  on  along  the  sea-shore],  till  he  came 
to  a  sort  of  divers  diving  in  the  sea  for  pearls.  They  saw 
him  weeping  and  mourning  and  said  to  him,  *What  is 
thy  case  and  what  maketh  thee  weep  ? '  So  he  acquainted 
them  with  his  history,  from  first  to  last,  whereby  they  knew 
him  and  said  to  him,  *  Art  thou  [such  an  one]  son  of  such 
an  one?'  'Yes,*  answered  he;  whereupon  they  con- 
doled with  him  and  wept  sore  for  him  and  said  to  him, 
•Abide  here  till  we  dive  for  thy  luck  this  next  time  and 
whatsoever  betideth  us  shall  be  between  us  and  thee.' 
Accordingly,  they  dived  and  brought  up  ten  oysters,  in 
each  two  great  pearls ;  whereat  they  marvelled  and  said 
to  him,  'By  Allah,  thy  luck  hath  relumed  and  thy  good 
star  is  in  the  ascendant ! '  Then  they  gave  him  ten 
pearls  and  said  to  him,  'Sell  two  of  them  and  make  them 
thy  capital  [whereon  to  trade] ;  and  hide  the  rest  against 


17 

the  time  of  thy  straitness.'  So  he  took  them,  joyful  and 
contented,  and  addressed  himself  to  sew  eight  of  them  in 
his  gown,  keeping  the  two  others  in  his  mouth;  but  a 
thief  saw  him  and  went  and  advertised  his  mates  of  him ; 
whereupon  they  gathered  together  upon  him  and  took  his 
gown  and  departed  from  him.  When  they  were  gone 
away,  he  arose,  saying,  *  These  two  pearls  [in  my  mouth] 
will  suffice  me,'  and  made  for  the  [nearest]  city,  where 
he  brought  out  the  pearls  [and  repairing  to  the  jewel- 
market,  gave  them  to  the  broker],  that  he  might  sell  them. 

Now,  as  destiny  would  have  it,  a  certain  jeweller  of  the 
town  had  been  robbed  of  ten  pearls,  like  unto  those  which 
were  with  the  merchant  j  so,  when  he  saw  the  two  pearls 
in  the  broker's  hand,  he  said  to  him,  '  To  whom  do  these 
pearls  belong?'  and  the  broker  answered,  *To  yonder 
man.'  [The  jeweller  looked  at  the  merchant  and]  seeing 
him  in  sorry  case  and  clad  in  tattered  clothes,  misdoubted 
of  him  and  said  to  him  (purposing  to  surprise  him  into 
confession),  'Where  are  the  other  eight  pearls?'  The 
merchant  thought  he  asked  him  of  those  which  were  in 
the  gown  and  answered,  *  The  thieves  stole  them  from 
me.'  When  the  jeweller  heard  his  reply,  he  doubted  not 
but  that  it  was  he  who  had  taken  his  good ;  so  he  laid 
hold  of  him  and  haling  him  before  the  chief  of  the 
police,  said  to  him,  'This  is  the  man  who  stole  my 
pearls :  I  have  found  two  of  them  upon  him  and  he 
confesseth  to  the  other  eight.' 

Now  the  magistrate  knew  of  the  theft  of  the  pearls; 
■0  he  bade  clap  the  merchant  in  prison.  Accordingly 
they  imprisoned  him  and  flogged  him,  and  he  abode  in 


7Z 

the  prison  a  whole  year,  till,  by  the  ordinance  of  God 
the  Most  High,  the  Master  of  Police  arrested  one  of  the 
divers  aforesaid  and  imprisoned  him  in  the  prison  where 
the  merchant  lay.  He  saw  the  latter  and  knowing  him, 
questioned  him  of  his  case;  whereupon  he  told  them 
his  story  and  that  which  had  befallen  him,  and  the  diver 
marvelled  at  the  sorriness  of  his  luck.  So,  when  he 
came  forth  of  the  prison,  he  acquainted  the  Sultan  with 
the  merchant's  case  and  told  him  that  it  was  he  who  had 
given  him  the  pearls.  The  Sultan  bade  bring  him  forth 
of  the  prison  and  questioned  him  of  his  story,  whereupon 
he  told  him  all  that  had  befallen  him  and  the  Sultan 
pitied  him  and  assigned  him  a  lodging  in  his  own 
palace,  together  with  an  allowance  for  his  living. 

Now  the  lodging  in  question  adjoined  the  king's  house, 
and  whilst  the  merchant  was  rejoicing  in  this  and  saying, 
•Verily,  my  luck  hath  returned  and  I  shall  live  in  this 
king's  shadow  the  rest  of  my  life,'  he  espied  an  opening 
walled  up  with  stones  and  clay.  So  he  pulled  out  the 
stones  and  clearing  away  the  earth  from  the  opening, 
found  that  it  was  a  window  giving  upon  the  lodging  of 
the  kmg's  women.  When  he  saw  this,  he  was  affrighted 
and  rising  in  haste,  fetched  clay  and  stopped  it  up  again. 
But  one  of  the  eunuchs  saw  him  and  misdoubting  of  him, 
repaired  to  the  Sultan  and  told  him  of  this.  So  he  came 
and  seeing  the  stones  pulled  out,  was  wrotli  with  the 
merchant  and  said  to  him,  'Is  this  my  recompense  from 
thee,  that  thou  seekest  to  violate  my  harem?'  And  he 
bade  pluck  out  his  eyes.  So  they  did  as  he  commanded 
and  the  merchant  took  his  eyes  in  his  hand  and  said* 


79 

•How  long  [wilt  thou  afflict  me],  O  star  of  fll-omen? 
First  my  wealth  and  now  my  life!'  And  he  bewailed 
himself,  saying,  'Endeavour  profiteth  me- nought  against 
evil  fortune.  The  Compassionate  aided  me  not  and 
endeavour  was  useless.  - 

On  like  wise,  O  king,"  continued  the  youth,  "whilst 
fortune  was  favourable  to  me,  all  that  I  did  came  to 
good ;  but  now  that  it  is  grown  contrary  to  me,  everything 
tumeth  against  me." 


When  the  youth  had  made  an  end  of  his  story,  the 
king's  anger  subsided  a  little  and  he  said,  "Restore  him 
to  the  prison,  for  the  day  draweth  to  an  end,  and  to* 
morrow  we  will  look  into  his  affair." 

>  Or  "  forbidden,"  U,  ainioL 


OF  LOOKING  TO  THE  ISSUES  OF  AFFAIRS. 

When  it  was  the  second  day,  the  second  of  the  king*! 
viziers,  whose  naroe  was  Beheroun,  came  in  to  him  and 
said,  "God  advance  the  king  I  This  that  yonder  youth 
hath  done  is  a  grave  matter  and  a  foul  deed  and  a  heinous 
against  the  household  of  the  king."  So  Azadbekht  bade 
fetch  the  youth,  because  of  the  saying  of  the  vizier;  and 
when  he  came  into  his  presence,  he  said  to  him,  "  Out  on 
thee,  O  youth!  Needs  must  I  slay  thee  by  the  worst 
of  deaths,  for  indeed  thou  hast  committed  a  grave  crime, 
and  I  will  make  thee  a  warning  to  the  folk."  "  O  king," 
answered  the  youth,  "  hasten  not,  for  the  looking  to  the 
issues  of  affairs  is  a  pillar  of  the  realm  and  [a  cause  of] 
continuance  and  sure  stablishment  for  the  kingship. 
Whoso  looketh  not  to  the  issues  of  affairs,  there  be- 
falleth  him  that  which  befell  the  merchant,  and  whoso 
looketh  to  the  issues  of  affairs,  there  betideth  him  of 
joyance  that  which  betided  the  merchant's  son."  **And 
what  is  the  story  of  the  merchant  and  his  son  ? "  asked 
the  king.     *'  O  king,"  answered  the  youth, 


8i 


STORY  OF  THE  MERCHANT  AND  HIS  SONa 

"There  was  once  a  man,  a  merchant,  who  had  a  wife 
and  abundant  wealth.  He  set  out  one  day  on  a  journey 
with  merchandise,  leaving  his  wife  big  with  child,  and  said 
to  her,  •  If  it  be  the  will  of  God  the  Most  High,  I  will 
return  before  the  birth  of  the  child.'  Then  he  took  leave 
of  her  and  setting  out,  journeyed  from  country  to  country 
till  he  came  to  the  court  of  one  of  the  kings  and  fore- 
gathered with  him.  Now  this  king  was  in  need  of  one 
who  should  order  his  affairs  and  those  of  his  kingdom  and 
seeing  the  merchant  well-bred  and  intelligent,  he  charged 
him  abide  with  him  and  entreated  him  with  honour  and 
munificence.  After  awhile,  he  sought  of  the  king  leave 
to  go  to  his  own  house,  but  the  latter  would  not  consent 
to  this ;  whereupon  he  said  to  him,  *  O  king,  suffer  me 
go  and  see  my  children  and  come  again.'  So  he  gave 
him  leave  for  this  and  took  surety  of  him  for  his  return. 
Moreover,  he  gave  him  a  purse,  wherein  were  a  thousand 
gold  dinars,  and  the  merchant  embarked  in  a  ship  and  set 
sail,  intending  for  his  own  country. 

Meanwhile,  news  came  to  his  wife  that  her  husband  had 
taken  service  with  King  Such-an-one;  so  she  arose  and 
taking  her  two  sons,  (for  she  had  given  birth  to  twin  boys 
in  his  absence,)  set  out  for  those  parts.  As  fate  would 
have  it,  they  happened  upon  an  island  and  her  husband 
came  thither  that  very  night  in  the  ship.  [When  the 
woman  heard  of  the  coming  of  the  ship],  she  said  to 
her  children,  'This  ship  cometh  from  the  country  where 
vou  I.  6 


82 

your  father  is;  so  go  ye  to  the  sea-shore,  that  ye  may 
enquire  of  him.*  So  they  repaired  to  the  sea-shore  and 
[going  up  into  the  ship],  fell  to  playing  about  it  and 
occupied  themselves  with  their  play  till  the  evening. 

Now  the  merchant  their  father  lay  asleep  in  the  ship, 
and  the  crying  of  the  bo)rs  troubled  him ;  so  he  rose  to 
call  out  to  them  [and  silence  them]  and  let  the  purse 
[with  the  thousand  dinars  therein]  fall  among  the  bales 
of  merchandise.  He  sought  for  it  and  finding  it  not, 
buflfeted  his  head  and  seized  upon  the  boys,  saying,  •  None 
took  the  purse  but  you.  Ye  were  playing  about  the  bales, 
so  ye  might  steal  somewhat,  and  there  was  none  here  but 
you.'  Then  he  took  a  staflf  and  laying  hold  of  the  children, 
fell  to  beating  them  and  flogging  them,  whilst  they  wept, 
and  the  sailors  came  roimd  about  them  and  said,  'The 
boys  of  this  island  are  all  thieves  and  robbers.'  Then,  of 
the  greatness  of  the  merchant's  wrath,  he  swore  that, 
if  they  brought  not  out  the  purse,  he  would  drown  them 
in  the  sea ;  so  when  [by  reason  of  their  denial]  his  oath 
became  binding  upon  him,  he  took  the  two  boys  and 
lashing  them  [each]  to  a  bundle  of  reeds,  cast  them  into 
the  sea. 

Presently,  the  mother  of  the  two  boys,  finding  that  they 
tarried  from  her,  went  searching  for  them,  till  she  came  to 
the  ship  and  fell  to  saying,  *Who  hath  seen  two  bo)rs 
of  mine?  Their  fashion  is  thus  and  thus  and  their  age 
thus  and  thus.'  When  they  heard  her  words,  they  said, 
*  This  is  the  description  of  the  two  boys  who  were  drowned 
in  the  sea  but  now.'  Their  mother  heard  and  fell  to 
calling  on  them  and  saying  'Alas,  my  anguish  for  your 


83 

loss,  O  my  sons  1  Where  was  the  eye  of  your  father  this 
day,  that  it  might  have  seen  you  ? '  Then  one  of  the  crew 
questioned  her,  saying,  '  Whose  wife  art  thou  ? '  And  she 
answer  "<,  *I  am  the  wife  of  such  an  one  the  merchant. 
I  was  on  my  way  to  him,  and  there  hath  befallen  me  this 
calamity.'  When  the  merchant  heard  her  speech,  he  knew 
her  and  rising  to  his  feet,  rent  his  clothes  and  buffeted  his 
head  and  said  to  his  wife,  *  By  Allah,  I  have  destroyed  my 
children  with  mine  own  hand !  This  is  the  end  of  whoso 
looketh  not  to  the  issues  of  affairs.'  Then  he  fell  a- wailing 
and  weeping  over  them,  he  and  his  wife,  and  he  said, 
'  By  Allah,  I  shall  have  no  ease  of  my  Ufe,  till  I  light  upon 
news  of  them ! '  And  he  betook  himself  to  going  round 
about  the  sea,  in  quest  of  them,  but  found  them  not 

Meanwhile,  the  wind  carried  the  two  children  [out 
to  sea  and  thence  driving  them]  towards  the  land,  cast 
them  up  on  the  sea-shore.  As  for  one  of  them,  a  com- 
pany of  the  guards  of  the  king  of  those  parts  found  him 
and  carried  him  to  their  master,  who  marvelled  at  him 
with  an  exceeding  wonderment  and  adopted  him  to  his 
son,  giving  out  to  the  folk  that  he  was  his  [very]  son, 
whom  he  had  hidden,^  of  his  love  for  him.  So  the  folk 
rejoiced  in  him  with  an  exceeding  joy,  for  the  king's 
Bake,  and  the  latter  appointed  him  his  heir-apparent  and 
the  inheritor  of  his  kingdom.  On  this  wise,  a  number 
of  years  passed,  till  the  king  died  and  they  crowned  the 

^  It  u  a  common  practice  with  Eastern  nations  to  keep  a  child 
(especially  a  son  and  one  of  unusual  beauty)  concealed  until  a  certain 
age,  for  fear  of  the  fcvil  eye.  See  my  "  Book  of  the  Thousand  Nighti 
and  One  Night,"  Vol.  III.  p.  234  ;  Vol.  IX.  p.  67,  etc.,  etc. 


84 

jrouth  king  in  his  room.  So  he  sat  down  on  the  throne 
of  his  kingship  and  his  estate  flourished  and  his  afiairs 
prospered. 

Meanwhile,  his  father  and  mother  had  gone  round 
about  all  the  islands  of  the  sea  in  quest  of  him  and  his 
brother,  hoping  that  the  sea  might  have  cast  them  up, 
but  found  no  trace  of  them ;  so  they  despaired  of  finding 
them  and  took  up  their  abode  in  one  of  the  islands.  One 
day,  the  merchant,  being  in  the  market,  saw  a  broker, 
and  in  his  hand  a  boy  he  was  calling  for  sale,  and  said 
in  himself,  'I  will  buy  yonder  boy,  so  I  may  console 
myself  with  him  for  my  sons.'  So  he  bought  him  and 
carried  him  to  his  house;  and  when  his  wife  saw  him, 
she  cried  out  and  said,  'By  Allah,  this  is  my  sonl'  So 
his  father  and  mother  rejoiced  in  him  with  an  exceeding 
joy  and  questioned  him  of  his  brother ;  but  he  answered, 
*  The  sea  parted  us  and  I  knew  not  what  became  of  him.' 
Therewith  his  father  and  mother  consoled  themselves 
with  him  and  on  this  wise  a  number  of  years  passed. 

Now  the  merchant  and  his  wife  had  taken  up  their 
abode  in  a  city  in  the  land  whereof  their  [other]  son 
was  king,  and  when  the  boy  [whom  they  had  found] 
grew  up,  his  father  assigned  unto  him  merchandise,  so 
he  might  travel  therewith.  So  he  set  out  and  entered 
the  city  wherein  his  brother  was  king.  News  reached 
the  latter  that  there  was  a  merchant  come  thither  with 
merchandise  befitting  kings.  So  he  sent  for  him  and 
the  young  merchant  obeyed  the  summons  and  going  in 
to  him,  sat  down  before  him.  Neither  of  them  knew 
the  other  ;  but  blood  stirred  between   them  and  the  king 


85 

said  to  the  young  merchant,  *I  desire  of  thee  that  thou 
abide  with  me  and  I  will  exalt  thy  station  and  give  thee 
all  that  thou  desirest  and  cravest'  So  he  abode  with 
him  awhile,  quitting  him  not;  and  when  he  saw  that  he 
would  not  suffer  him  to  depart  from  him,  he  sent  to  his 
father  and  mother  and  bade  them  remove  thither  to  him. 
So  they  addressed  them  to  remove  to  that  island,  and 
their  son  increased  still  in  honour  with  the  king,  albeit 
he  knew  not  that  he  was  his  brother. 

It  chanced  one  night  that  the  king  sallied  forth  with- 
out the  city  and  drank  and  the  wine  got  the  mastery  of 
him  and  he  became  drunken.  So,  of  the  youth's  fear- 
fulness  for  him,  he  said,  'I  will  keep  watch  myself 
over  the  king  this  night,  seeing  that  he  deserveth  this 
from  me,  for  that  which  he  hath  wrought  with  me  of 
kindnesses.'  So  he  arose  forthright  and  drawing  his 
sword,  stationed  himself  at  the  door  of  the  king's 
pavilion.  Now  one  of  the  royal  servants  saw  him  stand- 
ing there,  with  the  drawn  sword  in  his  hand,  and  he  was 
of  those  who  envied  him  his  favour  with  the  king;  so 
he  said  to  him,  'Why  dost  thou  on  this  wise  at  this 
season  and  in  the  like  of  this  place?'  Quoth  the 
youth,  *I  am  keeping  watch  over  the  king  myselfi  in 
requital  of  his  bounties  to  me.* 

The  servant  said  no  more  to  him,  but,  when  it  was 
morning,  he  acquainted  a  number  of  the  king's  senants 
witli  this  and  they  said,  *  This  is  an  opportunity  for  us. 
Come  let  us  assemble  together  and  acquaint  the  king 
with  this,  80  the  young  merchant  may  lose  favour  with 
him  and  he  rid  us  of  him  and  we  be  at  rest  from  him.' 


86 

So  they  assembled  together  and  going  in  to  the  king, 
said  to  him,  *  We  have  a  warning  we  would  give  thee.' 
Quoth  he,  *  And  what  is  your  warning  ? '  And  they  said, 
•Yonder  youth,  the  merchant,  whom  thou  hast  taken 
into  favour  and  whose  rank  thou  hast  exalted  above  the 
chiefs  of  the  people  of  thy  household,  we  saw  yesterday 
draw  his  sword  and  oflfer  to  fall  upon  thee,  so  he  might 
slay  thee.'  When  the  king  heard  this,  his  colour  changed 
and  he  said  to  them,  *Have  ye  proof  of  this?'  Quoth 
they,  'What  proof  wouldst  thou  have?  If  thou  desire 
this,  feign  thyself  drunken  again  this  night  and  lie  down, 
as  if  asleep,  and  watch  him,  and  thou  wilt  see  with  thine 
eyes  all  that  we  have  named  to  thee.' 

Then  they  went  to  the  youth  and  said  to  him,  '  Know 
that  the  king  thanketh  thee  for  thy  dealing  yesternight 
and  exceedeth  in  [praise  of]  thy  good  deed;'  and  they 
prompted  him  to  do  the  like  again.  So,  when  the  next 
night  came,  the  king  abode  on  wake  ;  watching  the  youth ; 
and  as  for  the  latter,  he  went  to  the  door  of  the  pavilion 
and  drawing  his  sword,  stood  in  the  doorway.  When  the 
king  saw  him  do  thus,  he  was  sore  disquieted  and  bade 
seize  him  and  said  to  him,  '  Is  this  my  requital  from  thee  ? 
I  showed  thee  favour  more  than  any  else  and  thou  wouldst 
do  with  me  this  vile  deed.'  Then  arose  two  of  the  king's 
servants  and  said  to  him,  '  O  our  lord,  if  thou  command 
it,  we  will  strike  off  his  head.'  But  the  king  said,  '  Haste 
in  slaying  is  a  vile  thing,  for  it  ^  is  a  grave  matter ;  the 
quick  we  can  slay,  but  the  slain  we  cannot  quicken,  and 
needs  must  we  look  to  the  issue  of  affairs.  The  slaying 
^  i.g.  killing  a  man. 


^7 

of  this  [youth]  will  not  escape  us.'*  Therewith  he  bade 
imprison  him,  whilst  he  himself  returned  [to  the  city]  and 
despatching  his  occasions,  went  forth  to  the  chase. 

Then  he  retiutied  to  the  city  and  forgot  the  youth ;  so 
the  servants  went  in  to  him  and  said  to  him,  *  O  king,  if 
thou  keep  silence  concerning  yonder  youth,  who  would 
have  slain  thee,  all  thy  servants  will  presume  upon  thee, 
and  indeed  the  folk  talk  of  this  matter.'  With  this 
the  king  waxed  wroth  and  saying,  'Fetch  him  hither,' 
commanded  the  headsman  to  strike  off  his  head.  So 
they  [brought  the  youth  and]  bound  his  eyes;  and  the 
headsman  stood  at  his  head  and  said  to  the  king,  'By 
thy  leave,  O  my  lord,  I  will  strike  off  his  head.'  But 
the  king  said,  'Stay,  till  I  look  into  his  affair.  Needs 
must  I  put  him  to  death  and  the  slaying  of  him  will  not 
escape  [me].'  So  he  restored  him  to  the  prison  and  there 
he  abode  till  it  should  be  the  king's  will  to  put  him  to 
death. 

Presently,  his  father  and  his  mother  heard  of  the  matter ; 
whereupon  the  former  arose  and  going  up  to  the  place, 
wrote  a  letter  and  [presented  it  to  the  king,  who]  read 
it,  and  behold,  therein  was  written,  saying,  '  Have  pity  on 
me,  so  may  God  have  pity  on  thee,  and  hasten  not  in  the 
slaughter  [of  my  son];  for  indeed  I  acted  hastily  in  a 
certain  affair  and  drowned  his  brother  in  the  sea,  and  to 
this  day  I  drink  the  cup  of  his  anguish.  If  thou  must 
needs  kill  him,  kill  me  in  his  stead.'  Therewith  the  old 
merchant  prostrated  himself  before  the  king  and  weptj 
and  the  latter  said  to  him,  *  Tell  me  thy  story.'  '  O  my 
^  Aa  it  will  always  be  in  our  power  to  slay  him,  when  we  will. 


88 

lord,'  answered  the  merchant,  *this  youth  had  a  broths 
and  I  [in  my  haste]  cast  them  both  into  the  sea.'  And  he 
related  to  him  his  story  from  first  to  last,  whereupon  the 
king  cried  out  with  an  exceeding  great  cry  and  casting 
himself  down  from  the  throne,  embraced  his  father  and 
brother  and  said  to  the  former,  *  By  Allah,  thou  art  my 
very  father  and  this  is  my  brother  and  thy  wife  b  our 
mother.'    And  they  abode  weeping,  all  three. 

Then  the  king  acquainted  the  people  [of  his  court] 
with  the  matter  and  said  to  them,  •  O  folk,  how  deem  ye 
of  my  looking  to  the  issues  of  affairs?'  And  they  all 
marvelled  at  his  wisdom  and  foresight  Then  he  turned 
to  his  father  and  said  to  him,  '  Hadst  thou  looked  to  the 
issue  of  thine  affair  and  dealt  deliberately  in  that  which 
thou  didst,  there  had  not  betided  thee  this  repentance  and 
grief  all  this  time.'  Then  he  let  bring  his  mother  and 
they  rejoiced  in  each  other  and  Uved  all  their  days  in  joy 
and  gladness.  What  then,"  continued  the  young  treasurer, 
"is  more  grievous  than  the  lack  of  looking  to  the  issues 
of  affairs?  Wherefore  hasten  thou  not  in  the  slaying  of 
me,  lest  repentance  betide  thee  and  sore  concern." 

When  the  king  heard  this,  he  said,  **  Restore  him  to  the 
prison  till  the  morrow,  so  we  may  look  into  his  aSaix ; 
for  that  deliberation  in  affairs  is  advisable  and  the 
slaughter  of  this  [youth]  shall  not  escape  [usj.  * 


OF  THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  PATIENTCR 

When  it  was  the  third  day,  the  third  vizier  came  in  to 
the  king  and  said  to  him,  "  O  king,  delay  not  the  affair 
of  this  youth,  for  that  his  deed  hath  caused  us  fall  into 
the  mouths  of  the  folk,  and  it  behoveth  that  thou  slay 
him  presently,  so  the  talk  may  be  estopped  from  us  and 
it  be  not  said,  'The  king  saw  on  his  bed  a  man  with 
his  wife  and  spared  him.'"  The  king  was  chagrined  by 
this  speech  and  bade  bring  the  youth.  So  they  brought 
him  in  shackles,  and  indeed  the  king's  anger  was  roused 
against  him  by  the  speech  of  the  vizier  and  he  was 
troubled;  so  he  said  to  him,  "O  base  of  origin,  thou 
hast  dishonoured  us  and  marred  our  repute,  and  needs 
must  I  do  away  thy  life  from  the  world."  Quoth  the 
youth,  "  O  king,  make  use  of  patience  in  all  thine  afifairs, 
so  wilt  thou  attain  thy  desire,  for  that  God  the  Most  High 
hath  appointed  the  issue  of  patience  [to  be]  in  abounding 
good,  and  indeed  by  patience  Abou  Sabir  ascended  from 
the  pit  and  sat  down  upon  the  throne."  "  Who  was  Abou 
Sabir/'  asked  the  king,  '*and  what  is  his  stoiy?"  And 
the  youth  answered,  saying,  *'  O  king^ 


90 


STORY  OF  ABOU  SABIR. 

There  was  once  a  man,  a  headman  [of  a  village],  by 
name  Abou  Sabir,  and  he  had  much  cattle  and  a  fair  wife, 
who  ijad  borne  him  two  sons.  They  abode  in  a  certain 
village  and  there  used  to  ccme  thither  a  lion  and  devour 
Abou  Sabir's  cattle,  so  that  the  most  part  thereof  waa 
wasted  and  his  wife  said  to  him  one  day,  *  This  lion  hath 
wasted  the  most  part  of  our  cattle.  Arise,  mount  thy 
horse  and  take  thy  men  and  do  thine  endeavour  to  kill 
him,  so  we  may  be  at  rest  from  him.'  But  Abou  Sabir 
said,  *  Have  patience,  O  woman,  for  the  issue  of  patience 
is  praised.  This  lion  it  is  that  transgresseth  against  us, 
and  the  transgressor,  needs  must  Allah  destroy  hira. 
Indeed,  it  is  oiu"  patience  that  shall  slay  him,  and  he  that 
doth  evil,  needs  must  it  revert  upon  him.*  A  little  after, 
the  king  went  forth  one  day  to  hunt  and  falling  in  with 
the  lion,  he  and  his  troops,  gave  chase  to  him  and  ceased 
not  [to  follow]  after  him  till  they  slew  him.  This  came 
to  Abou  Sabir's  knowledge  and  he  said  to  his  wife,  '  Said 
I  not  to  thee,  O  woman,  that  whoso  doth  evil,  it  shall 
revert  upon  hira  ?  Belike,  if  I  had  sought  to  slay  the  lion 
myself  I  had  not  availed  against  him,  and  this  b  the  issue 
of  patience.* 

It  befell,  after  this,  that  a  man  was  slain  in  Abou  Sabir*s 
village;  wherefore  the  Sultan  caused  plvmder  the  village, 
and  they  plundered  the  headman's  goods  with  the  rest 
So  his  wife  said  to  him,  'All  the  Sultan's  officers  know 
thee;  so  do  thou  prefer  thy  plaint  to  the  king,  that  he 


91 

may  cause  thy  beasts  to  be  restored  to  thee.*  But  he  said 
to  her,  *0  woman,  said  I  not  to  thee  that  he  who  doth 
evil  shall  suffer  it?  Indeed,  the  king  hath  done  evil,  and 
he  shall  suffer  [the  consequences  of]  his  deed,  for  whoso 
taketh  the  goods  of  the  folk,  needs  must  his  goods  be 
taken.'  A  man  of  his  neighbours  heard  his  speech,  and 
he  was  an  envier  of  his;  so  he  went  to  the  Sultan 
and  acquainted  him  therewith,  whereupon  he  sent  and 
plundered  all  [the  rest  of]  his  goods  and  drove  him  forth 
from  the  village,  and  his  wife  [and  children]  with  him. 
So  they  went  wandering  in  the  desert  and  his  wife  said 
to  him,  *A11  that  hath  befallen  us  cometh  of  thy  sloth- 
fulness  in  affairs  and  thy  default'  But  he  said  to  her, 
*  Have  patience,  for  the  issue  of  patience  is  good.' 

Then  they  went  on  a  little,  and  thieves  met  them 
and  despoiling  them  of  that  which  remained  with  them, 
stripped  them  of  their  raiment  and  took  the  children  from 
them ;  whereupon  the  woman  wept  and  said  to  her  husband, 
*0  man,  put  away  from  thee  this  folly  and  arise,  let  us 
follow  the  thieves,  so  haply  they  may  have  compassion 
on  us  and  restore  the  children  to  us.'  *0  woman,' 
answered  he,  'have  patience,  for  he  who  doth  evil  shall 
be  requited  with  evil  and  his  wickedness  shall  revert  upon 
him.  Were  I  to  follow  them,  most  like  one  of  them 
would  take  his  sword  and  smite  off  my  head  and  slay 
me;  but  have  patience,  for  the  issue  of  patience  is 
praised.*  Then  they  fared  on  till  they  drew  near  a  village 
in  tlie  land  of  Kirman,  and  by  it  a  river  of  water.  So 
he  said  to  his  wife,  'Abide  thou  here,  whilst  I  enter  the 
village  and  look  us  out  a  place  wherein  we  may  take  up 


93 

our  lodging.*  And  he  left  her  by  the  water  and  entered 
the  village. 

Presently,  up  came  a  horseman  in  quest  of  water,  so 
he  might  water  his  horse.  He  saw  the  woman  and  she 
was  pleasing  in  his  sight;  so  he  said  to  her,  'Arise, 
mount  with  me  and  I  will  take  thee  to  wife  and  entreat 
thee  kindly.'  Quoth  she,  '  Spare  me,  so  may  God  spare 
thee  I  Indeed,  I  have  a  husband.'  But  he  drew  his 
sword  and  said  to  her,  *  An  thou  obey  me  not,  I  will 
smite  thee  and  kill  thee.'  When  she  saw  his  malice,  she 
wrote  on  the  ground  in  the  sand  with  her  finger,  saying, 
•  O  Abou  Sabir,  thou  hast  not  ceased  to  be  patient,  till 
thy  wealth  is  gone  from  thee  and  thy  children  and  [now] 
thy  wife,  who  was  more  precious  in  thy  sight  than  every- 
thing and  than  all  thy  wealth,  and  indeed  thou  abidest  in 
thy  sorrow  all  thy  life  long,  so  thou  mayst  see  what  thy 
patience  will  profit  thee.'  Then  the  horseman  took  her, 
and  setting  her  behind  him,  went  his  way. 

As  for  Abou  Sabir,  when  he  returned,  he  saw  not  his 
wife  and  read  what  was  written  on  the  ground,  wherefore 
he  wept  and  sat  [awhile]  sorrowing.  Then  said  he  to 
hiiDself,  *0  Abou  Sabir,  it  behoveth  thee  to  be  patient, 
for  belike  there  shall  betide  [thee]  an  affair  yet  sorer  than 
this  and  more  grievous;'  and  he  went  forth  wandering 
At  a  venture,  like  to  the  love-distraught,  the  madman, 
till  he  came  to  a  sort  of  labourers  working  upon  the 
palace  of  the  king,  by  way  of  forced  labour.  When  [the 
overseers]  saw  him,  they  laid  hold  of  him  and  said  to 
him,  'Work  thou  with  these  folk  at  the  palace  of  the 
king ;  else  will  we  imprison  thee  for  life.'    So  he  fell  to 


93 

working  with  them  as  a  labourer  and  every  day  they 
gave  him  a  cake  of  bread.  He  wrought  with  them  a 
month's  space,  till  it  chanced  that  one  of  the  labourers 
mounted  a  ladder  and  falling,  broke  his  leg;  whereupon 
he  cried  out  and  wept.  Quoth  Abou  Sabir  to  him,  *  Have 
patience  and  weep  not;  for  thou  shalt  find  ease  in  thy 
patience.*  But  the  man  said  to  him,  *  How  long  shall 
I  have  patience?'  And  he  answered,  saying,  'Patience 
bringeth  a  man  forth  of  the  bottom  of  the  pit  and  seateth 
him  on  the  throne  of  the  kingdom.' 

Now  the  king  was  seated  at  the  lattice,  hearkening  to 
their  talk,  and  Abou  Sabir's  words  angered  him;  so  he 
bade  bring  him  before  him  and  they  brought  him  forth- 
right Now  there  was  in  the  king's  palace  an  underground 
dungeon  and  therein  a  vast  deep  pit,  into  which  the  king 
caused  cast  Abou  Sabir,  saying  to  him,  *  O  lackwit,  now 
shall  we  see  how  thou  wilt  come  forth  of  the  pit  to  the 
throne  of  the  kingdom.'  Then  he  used  to  come  and 
stand  at  the  mouth  of  the  pit  and  say,  *0  lackwit,  O 
Abou  Sabir,  I  see  thee  not  come  forth  of  the  pit  and 
sit  down  on  the  king's  throne  1 '  And  he  assigned  him 
each  day  two  cakes  of  bread,  whilst  Abou  Sabir  held  his 
peace  and  spoke  not,  but  bore  with  patience  that  which 
betided  him. 

Now  the  king  had  a  brother,  whom  he  had  imprisoned 
in  that  pit  of  old  time,  and  he  haH  died  [there] ;  but  the 
folk  of  the  realm  thought  that  he  was  alive,  and  when  his 
[supposed]  imprisonment  grew  long,  the  king's  officers 
used  to  talk  of  this  and  of  the  tyranny  of  the  king,  and  the 
report  spread  abroad  that  the  king  was  a  tyrant,  wherefore 


94 

they  fell  upon  him  one  day  and  dew  him.  Then  they 
sought  the  well  and  brought  out  Abou  Sabir  therefrom, 
deeming  hun  the  king's  brother,  for  that  he  was  the 
nearest  of  folk  to  him  [in  favour]  and  the  likest,  and  he 
had  been  long  in  the  prison.  So  they  doubted  not  but 
that  he  was  the  prince  in  question  and  said  to  him, 
*  Reign  thou  in  thy  brother's  room,  for  we  have  slain  him 
and  thou  art  king  in  his  stead.'  But  Abou  Sabir  was 
silent  and  spoke  not  a  word ;  and  he  knew  that  this  was 
the  issue  of  his  patience.  Then  he  arose  and  sitting  down 
on  the  king's  throne,  donned  the  royal  raiment  and  dis- 
covered justice  and  equity  and  the  affairs  [of  the  realm] 
prospered  [in  his  hand];  wherefore  the  folk  obeyed  him 
and  the  people  incHned  to  him  and  many  were  his  troops. 

Now  the  king,  who  had  plundered  Abou  Sabir['s  goods] 
and  driven  him  forth  of  his  village,  had  an  enemy ;  and  the 
latter  took  horse  against  him  and  overcame  him  and 
captured  his  [capital]  city;  wherefore  he  addressed  him- 
self to  flight  and  came  to  Abou  Sabir's  city,  craving 
protection  of  him  and  seeking  that  he  should  succour 
him.  He  knew  not  that  the  king  of  the  city  was  the 
headman  whom  he  had  despoiled;  so  he  presented  him- 
self before  him  and  made  complaint  to  him ;  but  Abou 
Sabir  knew  him  and  said  to  him,  *  This  is  somewhat  of  the 
issue  of  patience.  God  the  Most  High  hath  given  me 
power  over  thee.*  Then  he  bade  his  guards  plunder  the 
[unjust]  king  and  his  attendants ;  so  they  plundered  them 
and  stripping  them  of  their  clothes,  put  them  forth  of  his 
country.  When  Abou  Sabir's  troops  saw  this,  they 
marvelled  and  said,  •  What  is  this  deed  that  the  king  doth  ? 


95 

There  cometh  a  king  to  him,  craving  protection,  and  he 
despoileth  him  !  This  is  not  of  the  fashion  of  kings.'  But 
they  dared  not  [be]speak  [him]  of  this. 

After  this,  news  came  to  the  king  of  robbers  in  his 
land;  so  he  set  out  in  quest  of  them  and  ceased  not  to 
follow  after  them,  till  he  seized  on  them  all,  and  behold, 
they  were  the  [very]  thieves  who  had  despoiled  him  [and 
his  wife]  by  the  way  and  taken  his  children.  So  he  bade 
bring  them  before  him,  and  when  they  came  into  his 
presence,  he  questioned  them,  saying,  'Where  are  the 
two  boys  ye  took  on  such  a  day  ? '  Quoth  they,  *  They 
are  with  us  and  we  will  present  them  to  our  lord  the 
king  for  slaves  to  serve  him  and  give  him  wealth  galore 
that  we  have  gotten  together  and  divest  ourselves  of 
all  that  we  possess  and  repent  from  sin  and  fight  in 
thy  service.'  Abou  Sabir,  however,  paid  no  heed  to 
their  speech,  but  took  all  their  good  and  bade  put  them 
all  to  death.  Moreover,  he  took  the  two  boys  and  re- 
joiced in  them  with  an  exceeding  joy,  whereat  the  troops 
murmured  among  themselves,  saying,  'Verily,  this  is  a 
greater  tyrant  than  his  brother!  There  come  to  him 
a  sort  of  robbers  and  seek  to  repent  and  proflFer  two 
boys  [by  way  of  peace-offering],  and  he  taketh  the  two 
boys  and  all  their  good  and  slayeth  them  1  * 

After  this  came  the  horseman,  who  had  taken  Aboii 
Sabir's  wife,  and  complained  of  her  to  the  king  that  she 
would  not  give  him  possession  of  herself,  avouching  that 
she  was  his  wife.  The  king  bade  bring  her  before  him, 
that  he  uiight  hear  her  speech  and  pronounce  judgment 
upon  her.     So  the  horseman  came  with  her  before  him, 


96 

and  when  the  king  saw  her,  he  knew  her  and  taking  her 
firom  her  ravisher,  bade  put  the  latter  to  death.  Then  be 
became  aware  of  the  troops,  that  they  murmured  against 
him  and  spoke  of  him  as  a  tyrant ;  so  he  turned  to  his 
officers  and  viziers  and  said  to  them,  *  As  for  me,  by  God 
the  Great,  I  am  not  the  king's  brother  1  Nay,  I  am  but 
one  whom  the  king  imprisoned  upon  a  word  he  heard 
from  me  and  used  every  day  to  taunt  me  therewith.  Ye 
think  that  I  am  the  king's  brother ;  but  I  am  Abou  Sabir 
and  God  hath  given  me  the  kingship  in  virtue  of  my 
patience.  As  for  the  king  who  sought  protection  of  me 
and  I  despoiled  him,  it  was  he  who  first  wronged  me,  for 
that  he  despoiled  me  aforetime  and  drove  me  forth  of 
my  native  land  and  banished  me,  without  due  [cause] ; 
wherefore  I  requited  him  with  that  which  he  had  done  to 
me,  in  the  way  of  lawful  vengeance.  As  for  the  thieves 
who  proffered  repentance,  there  was  no  repentance  for 
them  with  me,  for  that  they  began  upon  me  with  foul 
[dealing]  and  waylaid  me  by  the  road  and  despoiled  me 
and  took  my  good  and  my  sons.  Now  these  two  boys, 
that  I  took  of  them  and  whom  ye  deemed  slaves,  are  my 
very  sons;  so  I  avenged  myself  on  the  thieves  of  that 
which  they  did  with  me  aforetime  and  requited  them  with 
equity.  As  for  the  horseman  whom  I  slew,  the  woman 
I  took  from  him  was  my  wife  and  he  took  her  by  force, 
but  God  the  Most  High  hath  restored  her  [to  me] ;  so 
this  was  my  right,  and  my  deed  that  I  have  done  was 
just,  albeit  ye,  [judging]  by  the  outward  of  the  matter* 
deemed  that  I  had  done  this  by  way  of  tyranny.' 
When   the   lulk   heard   this,   they    marvelled   and    fiell 


97 

prostrate  before  him;  and  they  redoubled  in  esteem 
for  him  and  exceeding  affection  and  excused  themselves 
to  him,  marvelling  at  that  which  God  had  done  with  him 
and  how  He  had  given  him  the  kingship  by  reason  of  his 
longsuffering  and  his  patience  and  how  he  had  raised 
himself  by  his  patience  from  the  bottom  of  the  pit  to  the 
throne  of  the  kingdom,  what  while  God  cast  down  the 
pate]  king  from  the  throne  into  the  pit.*  Then  Abou 
Sabir  foregathered  with  his  wife  and  said  to  her,  *  How 
deemest  thou  of  the  fruit  of  patience  and  its  sweetness 
and  the  fruit  of  haste  and  its  bitterness?  Verily,  all  that 
a  man  doth  of  good  and  evil,  he  shall  assuredly  abide.' 
On  like  wise,  O  king,"  continued  the  young  treasurer, 
"it  behoveth  thee  to  practise  patience,  whenas  it  is 
possible  to  thee,  for  that  patience  is  of  the  fashion  of  the 
noble,  and  it  is  the  chiefest  of  their  reliance,  especially 
for  kings." 

When  the  king  heard  this  from  the  youth,  his  anger 
subsided ;  so  he  bade  restore  him  to  the  prison,  and  the 
folk  dispersed  that  day. 

*  it,  the  grave. 


TQIa    X 


OF  THE  ILL  EFFECTS  OF  PRECIPITATION. 

When  it  was  the  fourth  day,  the  fourth  vizier,  whose 
name  was  Zoushad,  made  his  appearance  and  prostrating 
himself  to  the  king,  said  to  him,  "  O  king,  suffer  not  the 
talk  of  yonder  youth  to  delude  thee,  for  that  he  is  not 
a  truth-teller.  So  long  as  he  abideth  on  life,  the  folk 
will  not  give  over  talking  nor  will  thy  heart  cease  to  be 
occupied  with  him."  "By  Allah,"  cried  the  king,  "thou 
sayst  sooth  and  I  will  cause  fetch  him  this  day  and  slay 
him  before  me."  Then  he  commanded  to  bring  the 
youth;  so  they  brought  him  in  shackles  and  he  said  to 
him,  "  Out  on  thee !  Thinkest  thou  to  appease  my  heart 
with  thy  prate,  whereby  the  days  are  spent  in  talk  ?  I  mean 
to  slay  thee  this  day  and  be  quit  of  thee."  "  O  king," 
answered  the  youth,  "it  is  in  thy  power  to  slay  me 
whensoever  thou  wilt,  but  haste  is  of  the  fashion  of  the 
base  and  patience  of  that  of  the  noble.  If  thou  put  me  to 
death,  thou  wilt  repent,  and  if  thou  desire  to  bring  me 
back  to  life,  thou  wilt  not  be  able  thereunto.  Indeed, 
whoso  acteth  hastily  in  an  affair,  there  befalleth  him  what 
befell  Bihzad,  son  of  the  king."  Quoth  the  king,  "And 
what  is  his  story  ?"    "  O  king,"  replied  the  young  treasurer, 


99 


STORY  OF  PRINCE  BIHZAD. 

**  There  was  once,  of  old  time,  a  king  and  he  hail  a  son 
[named  Bihzad],  there  was  not  in  his  day  a  goodlier  than 
he  and  he  loved  to  consort  with  the  folk  and  to  sit  with 
the  merchants  and  converse  with  them.  One  day,  as  he 
sat  in  an  assembly,  amongst  a  number  of  folk,  he  heard 
them  talking  of  his  own  goodliness  and  grace  and  saying, 
*  There  is  not  in  his  time  a  goodlier  than  he.*  But  one  of 
the  company  said,  'Indeed,  the  daughter  of  King  Such 
an-one  is  handsomer  than  he.'  When  Bihzad  heard  this 
saying,  his  reason  fled  and  his  heart  fluttered  and  he 
called  the  last  speaker  and  said  to  him,  *  Repeat  to  me 
that  which  thou  saidst  and  tell  me  the  truth  concerning 
her  whom  thou  avouchest  to  be  handsomer  than  I  and 
whose  daughter  she  is.'  Quoth  the  man,  *She  is  the 
daughter  of  King  Such-an-one ;'  whereupon  Bihzad's 
heart  clave  to  her  and  his  colour  changed. 

The  news  reached  his  father,  who  said  to  him,  *  O  my 
son,  this  damsel  to  whom  thy  heart  cleaveth  is  at  thy 
commandment  and  we  have  power  over  her;  so  wait  till 
I  demand  her  [in  marriage]  for  thee.'  But  the  prince 
said,  '  I  will  not  wait.'  So  his  father  hastened  in 
the  matter  and  sent  to  demand  her  of  her  father,  who 
required  of  him  a  hundred  thousand  dinars  to  his 
daughter's  dowry.  Quoth  Bihzad's  father,  *  So  be  it,'  and 
paid  down  what  was  in  his  treasuries,  and  there  remained 
to  his  charge  but  a  little  of  the  dower.  So  he  sa'd  to 
his  son,  '  Have  patience,  O  my  son,  till  we  gather  together 


100 

the  rest  of  the  money  and  send  to  fetch  her  to  thee,  for 
that  she  is  become  thine.'  Therewith  the  prince  waxed 
exceeding  wroth  and  said,  *I  will  not  have  patience;'  so 
he  took  his  sword  and  his  spear  and  mounting  his  horse, 
went  forth  and  fell  to  stopping  the  way,  [so  haply  that  he 
might  win  what  lacked  of  the  dowry]. 

It  chanced  one  day  that  he  fell  in  upon  a  company 
of  folk  and  they  overcame  him  by  dint  of  numbers  and 
taking  him  prisoner,  pinioned  him  and  carried  him  to 
the  lord  of  that  country.  The  latter  saw  his  fashion  and 
grace  and  misdoubting  of  him,  said,  *  This  is  no  robber's 
favour.  Tell  me  truly,  O  youth,  who  thou  art'  Bihzad 
thought  shame  to  acquaint  him  with  his  condition  and 
chose  rather  death  for  himself;  so  he  answered,  *I  am 
nought  but  a  thief  and  a  bandit.'  Quoth  the  king,  *  It 
behoveth  us  not  to  act  hastily  in  the  matter  of  this  youth, 
but  that  we  look  into  his  affair,  for  that  haste  still 
engendereth  repentance.'  So  he  imprisoned  him  in  his 
palace  and  assigned  him  one  who  should  serve  him. 

Meanwhile,  the  news  spread  abroad  that  Bihzad,  son 
of  the  king,  was  lost,  whereupon  his  father  sent  letters 
in  quest  of  him  [to  all  the  kings  and  amongst  others  to 
him  with  whom  he  was  imprisoned].  When  the  letter 
reached  the  latter,  he  praised  God  the  Most  High  for 
that  he  had  not  anydele  hastened  in  Bihzad's  affair  and 
letting  bring  him  before  himself,  said  to  him,  *  Art  thou 
minded  to  destroy  thyself?'  Quoth  Bihzad,  *[I  did  this] 
for  fear  of  reproach;'  and  the  king  said,  *An  thou  fear 
reproach,  thou  shouldst  not  practise  haste  [in  that  thou 
dost];  knowest  thou   not  that  the   fruit  of  haste  is  re- 


lOI 

pentance?  If  wc  had  hasted,  we  also,  like  unto  thee,  we 
had  repented.' 

Then  he  conferred  on  him  a  dress  of  honour  and 
engaged  to  him  for  the  completion  of  the  dowry  and  sent 
to  his  father,  giving  him  the  glad  news  and  comforting 
his  heart  with  [the  tidings  of]  his  son's  safety;  after 
which  he  said  to  Bihzad,  Arise,  O  my  son,  and  go  to 
thy  father.*  *0  king,'  rejoined  the  prince,  'complete  thy 
kindness  to  me  by  [hastening]  my  going-in  to  my  wife ; 
for,  if  I  go  back  to  my  father,  till  he  send  a  messenger 
and  he  return,  promising  me,  the  time  will  be  long.* 
The  king  laughed  and  marvelled  at  him  and  said  to  him, 
*  I  fear  for  thee  from  this  haste,  lest  thou  come  to  shame 
and  attain  not  thy  desire.*  Then  he  gave  him  wealth 
galore  and  wrote  him  letters,  commending  him  to  the 
father  of  the  princess,  and  despatched  him  to  them. 
When  he  drew  near  their  country,  the  king  came  forth 
to  meet  him  with  the  people  of  his  realm  and  assigned 
him  a  handsome  lodging  and  bade  hasten  the  going-in 
of  his  daughter  to  him,  in  compliance  with  the  other 
king's  letter.  Moreover,  he  advised  the  prince's  father 
[of  his  son's  coming]  and  they  busied  themselves  with  the 
affair  of  the  damsel. 

When  it  was  the  day  of  the  going-in,*  Bihzad,  of  his 
haste  and  lack  of  patience,  betook  himself  to  the  wall, 
which  was  between  himself  and  the  princess's  lodging 
and  in  which  there  was  a  hole  pierced,  and  looked,  so 
he  might  see  his  bride,  of  his  haste.  But  the  bride's 
mother  saw  him  and  this  was  grievous  to  her;  so  the 
*  ut.  the  wedding-day. 


lOJ 

took  from  one  of  the  servants  two  red-hot  iron  spits  and 
thnist  them  into  the  hole  through  which  the  prince  was 
looking.  The  spits  ran  into  his  eyes  and  put  them  out 
and  he  fell  down  aswoon  and  joyance  was  changed  and 
became  mourning  and  sore  concern.  See,  then,  O  king," 
continued  the  youth,  "  the  issue  of  the  prince's  haste  and 
lack  of  deliberation,  for  indeed  his  haste  bequeathed  him 
long  repentance  and  his  joy  was  changed  to  mourning; 
and  on  like  wise  was  it  with  the  woman  who  hastened  to 
put  out  his  eyes  and  deliberated  not.  All  this  was  the 
doing  of  haste;  wherefore  it  behoveth  the  king  not  to 
be  hasty  in  putting  me  to  death,  for  that  I  am  under  the 
grasp  of  his  hand,  and  what  time  soever  thou  desirest  my 
slaughter,  it  shall  not  escape  [thee]." 

When  the  king  heard  this,  his  anger  subsided  and  he 
said,  "Carry  him  back  to  prison  till  to-morrow,  lo  we 
may  look  into  his  aiair." 


die  f {ft!)  ©aj. 
OF  THE  ISSUES  OF  GOOD  AND  EVIL  ACTIONS. 

When  it  was  the  fifth  day,  the  fifth  Vizier,  whose  name 
was  Jehrbaur,  came  in  to  the  king  and  prostrating  himself 
before  him,  said,  "O  king,  it  behoveth  thee,  if  thou  see 
or  hear  that  one  look  on  thy  house,^  that  thou  put  out 
his  eyes.  How  then  should  it  be  with  him  whom  thou 
sawest  midmost  thy  house  and  on  thy  very  bed,  and  he 
suspected  with  thy  harem,  and  not  of  thy  lineage  nor 
of  thy  kindred?  Wherefore  do  thou  away  this  reproach 
by  putting  him  to  death.  Indeed,  we  do  but  urge  thee 
unto  this  for  the  assurance  of  thine  empire  and  of  our 
zeal  for  thy  loyal  counselling  and  of  our  love  to  thee. 
How  can  it  be  lawful  that  this  youth  should  live  for  a 
single  hour?" 

Therewith  the  king  was  filled  with  wrath  and  said, 
"  Bring  him  forthright"  So  they  brought  the  youth 
before  him,  shackled,  and  the  king  said  to  him,  "Out 
on  thee  1  Thou  hast  sinned  a  great  sin  and  the  time  of 
thy  life  hath  been  long;'  but  needs  must  we  put  thee 
to  death,  for  that  there  is  for  us  no  ease  in  thy  life  after 
this."  "O  king,"  answered  he,  "know  that  I,  by  Allah, 
am  guiltless,  and  by  reason  of  this  I  hope  for  life,  for 
that  he  who  is  guiltless  of  otfence  goeth  not  in  fear  of 
*  i,e,  thy  womea.  *  i,e.  hath  been  andaly  prolouged. 


104 

punishment  neither  maketh  great  his  mourning  and  his 
concern;  but  whoso  hath  sinned,  needs  must  his  sin  be 
expiated  upon  him,  though  his  life  be  prolonged,  and  it 
shall  overtake  him,  even  as  it  overtook  Dadbin  the  king 
and  his  vizier."  "How  was  that?"  asked  Azadbekht^ 
and  the  youth  said, 


STORY  OF  KING  DADBIN  AND  HIS  VIZIERS. 

"There  was  once  a  king  in  the  land  of  Teberistan, 
by  name  Dadbin,  and  he  had  two  viziers,  called  one 
Zourkhan  and  the  other  Kardan.  The  Vizier  Zourkhan 
had  a  daughter,  there  was  not  in  her  time  a  handsomer 
than  she  nor  yet  a  chaster  nor  a  more  pious,  for  she  was 
a  faster,  a  prayer  and  a  worshipper  of  God  the  Most 
High,  and  her  name  was  Arwa.  Now  Dadbin  heard  tell 
of  her  charms ;  so  his  heart  clave  to  her  and  he  called 
the  vizier  [her  father]  and  said  to  him,  *  I  desire  of  thee 
that  thou  marry  me  to  thy  daughter.'  Quoth  2k)urkhan, 
'Allow  me  to  consult  her,  and  if  she  consent,  I  will 
marry  thee  with  her.'  And  the  king  said,  '  Hasten  unto 
this.' 

So  the  vizier  went  in  to  his  daughter  and  said  to  her, 
•O  my  daughter,  the  king  seeketh  thee  of  me  and 
desireth  to  marry  thee.'  '  O  my  father,'  answered  she 
'I  desire  not  a  husband  and  if  thou  wilt  marry  me, 
marry  me  not  but  with  one  who  shall  be  below  me  in 
rank  and  I  nobler  than  he,  so  he  may  not  tvun  to  other 
than  myself  nor  lift  his   eyes   upon  me,  and  many  me 


ios 

not  to  one  who  is  nobler  than  I,  lest  I  be  with  him  at 
a  slave-girl  and  a  serving-woman.'  So  the  vizier  re- 
turned to  the  king  and  acquainted  him  with  that  which 
his  daughter  had  said,  whereat  he  redoubled  in  desire 
and  love-liking  for  her  and  said  to  her  father,  'An  thou 
marry  me  not  to  her  of  good  grace,  I  will  take  her  by 
force  in  thy  despite.'  The  vizier  again  betook  himself 
to  his  daughter  and  repeated  to  her  the  king's  words, 
but  she  repHed,  'I  desire  not  a  husband.'  So  he 
returned  to  the  king  and  told  him  what  she  said,  and 
he  was  wroth  and  threatened  the  vizier,  whereupon  the 
latter  took  his  daughter  and  fled  with  her. 

When  this  came  to  the  king's  knowledge,  he  de- 
spatched troops  in  pursuit  of  Zourkhan,  to  stop  the  road 
upon  him,  whilst  he  himself  went  out  and  overtaking 
the  vizier,  smote  him  on  the  head  with  his  mace  and 
slew  him.  Then  he  took  his  daughter  by  force  and 
returning  to  his  dwelling-place,  went  in  to  her  and 
married  her.  Arwa  resigned  herself  with  patience  to 
that  which  betided  her  and  committed  her  affair  to  God 
the  Most  High;  and  indeed  she  was  used  to  serve  Him 
day  and  night  with  a  goodly  service  in  the  house  of 
King  Dabdin  her  husband. 

It  befell  one  day  that  the  king  had  occasion  to  make 
a  journey;  so  he  called  his  Vizier  Kardan  and  said  to 
him,  'I  have  a  trust  to  commit  to  thy  care,  and  it  is 
yonder  damsel,  my  wife,  the  daughter  of  the  Vizier 
[Zourkhan],  and  I  desire  that  thou  keep  her  and  guard 
her  thyself,  for  that  there  is  not  in  the  world  aught 
dearer  to  me  than  she.'    Quoth  Kardan  in  himself,  *Of 


io6 

A  truth,  the  king  honoureth  me  with  an  exceeding  honour 
[in  entrusting  me]  with  this  damsel.'  And  he  answered 
•With  all  my  heart' 

When  the  king  had  departed  on  his  journey,  the  vizier 
said  in  himself,  'Needs  must  I  look  upon  this  damsel 
whom  the  king  loveth  with  all  this  love.'  So  he  hid  him- 
self in  a  place,  that  he  might  look  upon  her,  and  saw  her 
overpassing  description;  wherefore  he  was  confounded  at 
her  and  his  wit  was  dazed  and  love  got  the  mastery  of 
him,  so  that  he  said  to  her,  saying,  'Have  pity  on  me, 
for  indeed  I  perish  for  the  love  of  thee.'  She  sent  back 
to  him,  saying,  'O  vizier,  thou  art  in  the  place  of  trust 
and  confidence,  so  do  not  thou  betray  thy  trust,  but  make 
thine  inward  like  unto  thine  outward  *  and  occupy  thyself 
with  thy  wife  and  that  which  is  lawful  to  thee.  As  for 
this,  it  is  lust  and  [women  are  all  of]  one  taste.'  And 
if  thou  wilt  not  be  forbidden  from  this  talk,  I  will  make 
thee  a  byword  and  a  reproach  among  the  folk.'  When 
the  vizier  heard  her  answer,  he  knew  that  she  was  chaste 
of  soul  and  body ;  wherefore  he  repented  with  the  utmost 
of  repentance  and  feared  for  himself  from  the  king  and 
said,  'Needs  must  I  contrive  a  device  wherewithal  I  may 
destroy  her ;  else  shall  I  be  disgraced  with  the  king.' 

When  the  king  returned  from  his  journey,  he  questioned 
his  vizier  of  the  affairs  of  his  kingdom  and  the  latter 
answered,  'All  is  well,  O  king,  save  a  vile  matter,  which 

*  i.e.  Let  thy  secret  thoughts  and  purposes  be  righteoos,  even  as  thine 
outward  profession. 

•  See  my  "Book  of  the  Thousand  NighU  and  One  Night,"  VoL  V. 
p.  264. 


I07 

I  have  discovered  here  and  wherewith  I  am  ashamed  to 
confront  the  king ;  but,  if  I  hold  my  peace  thereof,  I  fear 
lest  other  than  I  discover  it  and  I  [be  deemed  to]  have 
played  traitor  to  the  king  in  the  matter  of  my  [duty  of] 
loyal  warning  and  my  trust.'  Quoth  Dabdin,  'Speak,  for 
thou  art  none  other  than  a  truth-teller,  a  trusty  one,  a 
loyal  counsellor  in  that  which  thou  sayest,  undistrusted  in 
aught.'  And  the  vizier  said,  *  O  king,  this  woman  to  whose 
love  thy  heart  cleaveth  and  of  whose  piety  thou  talkest 
and  her  fasting  and  praying,  I  will  make  plain  to  thee 
that  this  is  craft  and  guile.'  At  this,  the  king  was  troubled 
and  said,  *  What  is  to  do  ? '  '  Know,'  answered  the  vizier, 
*  that  some  days  after  thy  departure,  one  came  to  me  and 
said  to  me,  "Come,  O  vizier,  and  look."  So  I  went  to 
the  door  of  the  [queen's]  sleeping-chamber  and  beheld 
her  sitting  with  Aboulkhair,  her  father's  servant,  whom 
she  favoureth,  and  she  did  with  him  what  she  did,  and 
this  is  the  manner  of  that  which  I  saw  and  heard.' 

When  Dabdin  heard  this,  he  burnt  with  rage  and  said 
to  one  of  his  eunuchs,*  '  Go  and  slay  her  in  her  chamber.* 
But  the  eunuch  said  to  him,  *0  king,  may  God  prolong 
thy  continuance  t  Indeed,  the  killing  of  her  may  not  be 
at  this  time ;  but  do  thou  bid  one  of  thine  eunuchs  take 
her  up  on  a  camel  and  carry  her  to  one  of  the  trackless 
deserts  and  cast  her  down  there;  so,  if  she  be  at  fault, 
God  shall  cause  her  to  perish,  and  if  she  be  innocent.  He 
will  deliver  her,  and  the  king  shall  be  free  from  sin 
against  her,  for  that  this  damsel  is  dear  to  thee  and  thou 

1  Afterwards  called  his  "chamberlain,"  i.e.  the  keeper  of  the  dooi  of 
the  harem  or  chief  eunuch.    See  post,  p.  III. 


io8 

slewest  her  father  by  reason  of  thy  love  for  her/  Quoth 
the  king,  'By  Allah,  thou  sayst  sooth  I'  Then  he  bade 
one  of  his  eunuchs  carry  her  on  a  camel  to  one  of  the 
far-o£f  deserts  and  there  leave  her  and  go  away,  and  he 
forbade  [him]  to  prolong  her  torment  So  he  took  her 
up  and  betaking  himself  with  her  to  the  desert,  left  her 
there  without  victual  or  water  and  returned,  whereupon 
she  made  for  one  of  the  [sand-]hills  and  ranging  stones 
before  her  [in  the  form  of  a  prayer-niche],  stood  pra)ring. 

Now  it  chanced  that  a  camel-driver,  belonging  to  Kisra 
the  king,  lost  certain  camels  and  the  king  threatened  him, 
if  he  found  them  not,  that  he  would  slay  him.  So  he  set 
out  and  plunged  into  the  deserts  till  he  came  to  the  place 
where  the  damsel  was  and  seeing  her  standing  praying, 
waited  till  she  had  made  an  end  of  her  prayer,  when  he 
went  up  to  her  and  saluted  her,  saying,  '  Who  art  thou  ? ' 
Quoth  she,  '  I  am  a  handmaid  of  God.'  '  What  dost  thou 
in  this  desolate  place  ? '  asked  he,  and  she  said,  *  I  serve 
God  the  Most  High.'  When  he  saw  her  beauty  and  grace, 
he  said  to  her,  'Harkye!  Do  thou  take  me  to  husband 
and  I  will  be  tenderly  solicitous  over  thee  and  use  thee 
with  exceeding  compassion  and  I  will  further  thee  in 
obedience  to  God  the  Most  High.'  But  she  answered, 
saying,  *  I  have  no  need  of  marriage  and  I  desire  to  abide 
here  [alone]  with  my  Lord  and  His  service;  but,  if  thou 
wouldst  deal  compassionately  with  me  and  further  me  in 
the  obedience  of  Gk)d  the  Most  High,  carry  me  to  a 
place  where  there  is  water  and  thou  wilt  have  done  me 
ft  kindness.' 

*  u$.  Chosro^k 


109 

Sio  he  carried  her  to  a  place  wherein  was  running  water 
and  setting  her  down  on  the  ground,  left  her  and  went 
away,  marvelling  at  her.  After  he  left  her,  he  found  his 
camels,  by  her  blessing,  and  when  he  returned,  King 
Kisra  asked  him,  '  Hast  thou  found  the  camels  ? '  [*  Yes,' 
answered  he]  and  acquainted  him  with  the  afifair  of  the 
damsel  and  set  out  to  him  her  beauty  and  grace ;  where- 
upon the  king's  heart  clave  to  her  and  he  mounted  with 
a  few  men  and  betook  himself  to  that  place,  where  he 
found  the  damsel  and  was  amazed  at  her,  for  that  he  saw 
her  overpassing  the  description  wherewith  the  camel-driver 
had  described  her  to  him.  So  he  accosted  her  and  said 
to  her,  *  I  am  King  Kisra,  greatest  of  the  kings.  Wilt 
thou  not  have  me  to  husband?'  Quoth  she,  'What  wilt 
thou  do  with  me,  O  king,  and  I  a  woman  abandoned  in 
the  desert  ? '  And  he  answered,  saying,  '  Needs  must  this 
be,  and  if  thou  wilt  not  consent  to  me,  I  will  take  up  my 
sojourn  here  and  devote  myself  to  God's  service  and  thine 
and  worship  Him  with  thee.' 

Then  he  bade  set  up  for  her  a  tent  and  another  for 
himself,  facing  hers,  so  he  might  worship  God  with  her, 
and  fell  to  sending  her  food  ;  and  she  said  in  herself, 
*  This  is  a  king  and  it  is  not  lawful  for  me  that  I  suffer  him 
forsake  his  subjects  and  his  kingdom  for  my  sake.'  So  she 
said  to  the  serving-woman,  who  used  to  bring  her  the 
food,  *  Speak  to  the  king,  so  he  may  return  to  his  women, 
for  he  hath  no  need  of  me  and  I  desire  to  abide  in  this 
place,  so  I  may  worship  God  the  Most  High  therein.'  The 
slave-girl  returned  to  the  king  and  told  him  this,  where- 
upon he  sent  back  to  her,  saying,  '  I  have  no  need  of  the 


no 

kingship  and  I  also  desire  to  abide  here  and  worship  God 
with  thee  in  this  desert.'  When  she  found  this  earnestness 
in  him,  she  consented  to  his  wishes  and  said,  *  O  king,  I 
will  consent  unto  thee  in  that  which  thou  desirest  and  will 
be  to  thee  a  wife,  but  on  condition  that  thou  bring  me 
Dadbin  the  king  and  his  Vizier  Kardan  and  his  chamber- 
lain ^  and  that  they  be  present  in  thine  assembly,  so  I  may 
speak  a  word  with  them  in  thy  presence,  to  the  intent  that 
thou  mayest  redouble  in  affection  for  me.'  Quoth  Kisra, 
'  And  what  is  thine  occasion  unto  this  ? '  So  she  related  to 
him  her  story  from  first  to  last,  how  she  was  the  wife  of 
Dadbin  the  king  and  how  the  latter's  vizier  had  miscalled 
her  honour. 

When  King  Kisra  heard  this,  he  redoubled  in  love- 
liking  for  her  and  afiection  and  said  to  her,  '  Do  what 
thou  wilt'  So  he  let  bring  a  litter  and  carrying  her 
therein  to  his  dwelling-place,  married  her  and  entreated 
her  with  the  utmost  honour.  Then  he  sent  a  great  army 
to  King  Dadbin  and  fetching  him  and  his  vizier  and  the 
chamberlain,  caused  bring  them  before  him,  unknowing 
what  he  purposed  with  them.  Moreover,  he  caused  set  up 
for  Arwa  a  pavilion  in  the  courtyard  of  his  palace  and  she 
entered  therein  and  let  down  the  curtain  before  herself. 
When  the  servants  had  set  their  seats  and  they  had  seated 
themselves,  Arwa  raised  a  corner  of  the  curtain  and  said, 
*  O  Kardan,  rise  to  thy  feet,  for  it  befitteth  not  that  thou 
sit  in  the  like  of  this  assembly,  before  this  mighty  King 
Kisra.*    When  the  vizier  heard  these  words,  his    heart 

'  i.«.  the  eunuch  who  had  dissuaded  Dadbin  from  putting  het  to 
death. 


in 

quaked  and  his  joints  were  loosened  and  of  his  fear,  he 
rose  to  his  feet.  Then  said  she  to  him,  '  By  the  virtue  of 
Him  who  hath  made  thee  stand  in  this  place  of  standing 
[up  to  judgment],  and  thou  abject  and  humiliated,  I  con- 
jure thee  speak  the  truth  and  say  what  prompted  thee  to 
lie  against  me  and  cause  me  go  forth  from  my  house  and 
from  the  hand  of  my  husband  and  made  thee  practise  thus 
against  a  man,*  a  true  believer,  and  slay  him.  This  is  no 
place  wherein  leasing  availeth  nor  may  prevarication  be 
therein.' 

When  the  vizier  was  ware  that  she  was  Arwa  and  heard 
her  speech,  he  knew  that  it  behoved  him  not  to  lie  and 
that  nought  would  avail  him  but  truth-speaking;  so  he 
bowed  [his  head]  to  the  ground  and  wept  and  said, 
*  Whoso  doth  evil,  needs  must  he  abide  it,  though  his  day 
be  prolonged.  By  Allah,  I  am  he  who  hath  sinned  and 
transgressed,  and  nought  prompted  me  unto  this  but  fear 
and  overmastering  desire  and  the  affliction  written  upon 
my  forehead ;  •  and  indeed  this  woman  is  pure  and  chaste 
and  free  from  all  fault.*  When  King  Dadbin  heard  this, 
he  buffeted  his  face  and  said  to  his  vizier,  '  God  slay  thee  I 
It  is  thou  that  hast  parted  me  and  my  wife  and  wronged 
me  I '  But  Kisra  the  king  said  to  him,  '  God  shall  surely 
slay  thee,  for  that  thou  hastenedst  and  lookedst  not  into 
thine  affair  and  knewest  not  the  guilty  from  the  guiltless. 

*  Apparently  referring  to  Aboulkhair  (see  ant^  p.  107),  whom  Dabdin 
woald  seem  to  have  put  to  death  upon  the  vizier's  false  accusation, 
although  no  previous  mention  of  this  occurs. 

•  The  Arabs  believe  that  each  man's  destiny  is  charactered,  could  wf 
decipher  it,  in  the  sutures  of  his  skulL 


112 

Hadst  thou  wrought  deliberately,  the  false  had  been  made 
manifest  to  thee  from  the  true;  so  where  was  thy  judg- 
ment and  thy  sight  ? ' 

Then  said  he  to  Arwa,  '  What  wilt  thou  that  I  do  with 
them  ?  *  And  she  answered,  saying,  '  Accomplish  on  them 
the  ordinance  of  God  the  Most  High;*  the  slayer  shall 
be  slain  and  the  transgressor  transgressed  against,  even  as 
he  transgressed  against  us ;  yea,  and  the  well  doer,  good 
shall  be  done  unto  him,  even  as  he  did  unto  us.'  So  she 
gave  [her  officers]  commandment  concerning  Dadbin  and 
they  smote  him  on  the  head  with  a  mace  and  slew  him, 
and  she  said,  'This  is  for  the  slaughter  of  my  father.' 
Then  she  bade  set  the  vizier  on  a  beast  [and  carry  him] 
to  the  desert  whither  he  had  caused  carry  her  [and  leave 
him  there  without  victual  or  water] ;  and  she  said  to  him, 
*An  thou  be  guilty,  thou  shalt  abide  [the  punishment  of] 
thy  guilt  and  perish  of  hunger  and  thirst  in  the  desert; 
but,  if  there  be  no  guilt  in  thee,  thou  shalt  be  delivered, 
even  as  I  was  delivered.' 

As  for  the  eunuch,  the  chamberlain,  who  had  counselled 
King  Dadbin  [not  to  slay  her,  but]  to  [cause]  carry  her 
to  the  desert  [and  there  abandon  her],  she  bestowed  on 
him  a  sumptuous  dress  of  honour  and  said  to  him,  'The 
Uke  of  thee  it  behoveth  kings  to  hold  in  favour  and  set 
in  high  place,  for  that  thou  spokest  loyally  and  well,  and 
a  man  is  still  requited  according  to  his  deed.'  And  Kisra 
the  king  invested  him  with  the  governance  of  one  of  the 
provinces  of  his  empire.  Know,  therefore,  O  king,"  con- 
tinued the  youth,   "that  whoso   doth  good  is  requited 

*  Lh  the  Ux  talionis,  which  U  the  essence  of  Muslim  jurisprudeooe. 


113 

therewith  and  he  who  is  guiltless  of  sin  and  reproach 
feareth  not  the  issue  of  his  affair.  And  I,  O  king,  am 
free  from  guilt,  wherefore  I  trust  in  God  that  He  will 
show  forth  the  truth  and  vouchsafe  me  the  victory  over 
enemies  and  enviers." 


When  the  king  heard  this,  his  wrath  subsided  and  he 
said,  "Carry  him  back  to  the  prison  till  the  morrow,  so 
we  may  look  into  his  affair." 


QTfie  Zixtli  IBs;. 
OF  TRUST  IN   GOD. 

When  it  was  the  sixth  day,  the  viziers'  wrath  redoubled, 
for  that  they  had  not  compassed  their  desire  of  the  youth 
and  they  feared  for  themselves  from  the  king;  so  three 
of  them  went  in  to  him  and  prostrating  themselves  before 
him,  said  to  him,  "  O  king,  indeed  we  are  loyal  counsellors 
to  thy  dignity  and  tenderly  solicitous  for  thee.  Verily, 
thou  persistest  long  in  sparing  this  youth  alive  and  we 
know  not  what  is  thine  advantage  therein.  Every  day 
findeth  him  yet  on  life  and  the  talk  redoubleth  suspicions 
on  thee ;  so  do  thou  put  him  to  death,  that  the  talk  may 
be  made  an  end  of."  When  the  king  heard  this  speech,  he 
said,  "  By  Allah,  indeed,  ye  say  sooth  and  speak  rightly  I " 
Then  he  let  bring  the  young  treasurer  and  said  to  him, 
"How  long  shall  I  look  into  thine  affair  and  find  no 
helper  for  thee  and  see  them  all  athirst  for  thy  blood  ?  ** 

"  O  king,"  answered  the  youth,  "  I  hope  for  succour 
only  from  God,  not  from  created  beings :  if  He  aid  me, 
none  can  avail  to  harm  me,  and  if  He  be  with  me  and  on 
my  side,  because  of  the  truth,  who  is  it  I  shall  fear,  be- 
cause of  falsehood  ?  Indeed,  I  have  made  my  intent  with 
God  a  pure  and  sincere  intent  and  have  severed  my  ex- 
pectation from  the  help  of  the  creature  -,  and  whoso  seeketh 
help  [of  God]  findeth  of  his  desire  that  which  Bekhtzeman 
found."  Quoth  the  king,  "Who  was  Bekhtzeman  and 
what  is  his  story  ?  "     "  O  king,"  replied  the  youth. 


"5 


STORY  OF  KING  BEKHTZEMAN. 

"  There  was  once  a  king  of  the  kings,  whose  name  was 
Bekhtzeman,  and  he  was  a  great  eater  and  drinker  and 
carouser.  Now  enemies  of  his  made  their  appearance  in 
certain  parts  of  his  realm  and  threatened  him  ;  and  one  of 
his  friends  said  to  him,  'O  king,  the  enemy  maketh  for 
thee :  be  on  thy  guard  against  him.'  Quoth  Bekhtzeman, 
'  I  reck  not  of  him,  for  that  I  have  arms  and  wealth  and 
men  and  am  not  afraid  of  aught.'  Then  said  his  friends  to 
him,  'Seek  aid  of  God,  O  king,  for  He  will  help  thee 
more  than  thy  wealth  and  thine  arms  and  thy  men.*  But 
he  paid  no  heed  to  the  speech  of  his  loyal  counsellors, 
and  presently  the  enemy  came  upon  him  and  waged  war 
upon  him  and  got  the  victory  over  him  and  his  trust  in 
other  than  God  the  Most  High  profited  him  nought.  So 
he  fled  from  before  him  and  seeking  one  of  the  kings,  said 
to  him,  *  I  come  to  thee  and  lay  hold  upon  thy  skirts  and 
take  refuge  with  thee,  so  thou  mayst  help  me  against 
mine  enemy.' 

The  king  gave  him  money  and  men  and  troops  galore 
and  Bekhtzeman  said  in  himself,  *  Now  am  I  fortified  with 
this  army  and  needs  must  I  conquer  my  enemy  therewith 
and  overcome  him;'  but  he  said  not,  'With  the  aid  of 
God  the  Most  High.'  So  his  enemy  met  him  and  over- 
came him  again  and  he  was  defeated  and  put  to  the  rout 
and  fled  at  a  venture.  His  troops  were  dispersed  from 
him  and  his  money  lost  and  the  enemy  followed  after  him. 
So  he  sought  the  sea  and  passing  over  to  the  other  side, 
law  a  great  city  and  therein  a  mighty  citadel.     He  asked 


Ii6 


the  name  of  the  city  and  to  whom  it  belonged  and  they 
said  to  him,  '  It  belongeth  to  Khedidan  the  king.'  So  he 
fared  on  till  he  came  to  the  king's  palace  aud  concealing 
his  condition,  passed  himself  off  for  a  horseman^  and 
sought  service  with  King  Khedidan,  who  attached  him 
to  his  household  and  entreated  him  with  honour ;  but  his 
heart  still  clave  to  his  covmtry  and  his  home. 

Presently,  it  chanced  that  an  enemy  attacked  King 
Khedidan;  so  he  sent  out  his  troops  to  him  and  made 
Bekhtzeman  head  of  the  army.  Then  they  went  forth  to 
the  field  and  Khedidan  also  came  forth  and  ranged  his 
troops  and  took  the  spear  and  sallied  out  in  person  and 
fought  a  sore  battle  and  overcame  his  enemy,  who  fled,  he 
and  his  troops,  ignominiously.  When  the  king  and  his 
army  returned  in  triumph,  Bekhtzeman  said  to  him, 
*  Harkye,  O  king  I  Meseemeth  this  is  a  strange  thing  of 
thee  that  thou  art  compassed  about  with  this  vast  army, 
yet  dost  thou  apply  thyself  in  person  to  battle  and 
adventurest  thyself.'  Quoth  the  king,  •  Dost  thou  call 
thyself  a  cavalier  and  a  man  of  learning  and  deemest  that 
victory  b  in  abundance  of  troops?*  *Ay,'  answered 
Bekhtzeman;  'that  is  indeed  my  belief.'  And  Khedidan 
said,  *  By  Allah,  then,  thou  errest  in  this  thy  belief !  Woe 
and  again  woe  to  him  whose  trust  is  in  other  than  God  1 
Indeed,  this  army  is  appointed  only  for  adornment  and 
majesty,  and  victory  is  from  God  alone.  I  too,  O  Bekhtze- 
man, believed  aforetime  that  victory  was  in  the  multitude 
of  men,  and  in  enemy  came  out  against  me  with  eight 

'  I  <r.  a  soldier  of  fortune,  going  about  £rom  court  to  court,  in  quest  ol 
wmcc 


117 

hundred  men,  whilst  I  had  eight  hundred  thousand.  I 
trasted  in  the  number  of  my  troops,  whilst  mine  enemy 
trusted  in  God ;  so  he  defeated  me  and  routed  me  and  I 
was  put  to  a  shameful  flight  and  hid  myself  in  one  of  the 
mountains,  where  I  met  with  a  recluse,  [who  had]  with- 
drawn [himself  from  the  world],  So  I  joined  myself  to 
him  and  complained  to  him  of  my  case  and  acquainted 
him  with  all  that  had  befallen  me.  Quoth  he,  "Knowest 
thou  why  this  befell  thee  and  thou  wast  defeated  ?"  "I  know 
not,"  answered  I,  and  he  said,  "  Because  thou  puttest  thy 
trust  in  the  multitude  of  thy  troops  and  reliedst  not  upon 
God  the  Most  High.  Hadst  thou  put  thy  trust  in  God  and 
believed  in  Him  that  it  is  He  [alone]  who  advantageth 
and  endamageth  thee,  thine  enemy  had  not  availed  to 
cope  with  thee.  Return  unto  God."  So  I  returned  to 
myself  and  repented  at  the  hands  of  the  solitary,  who  said 
to  me,  "  Turn  back  with  what  remaineth  to  thee  of  troops 
and  confront  thine  enemies,  for,  if  their  intents  be  changed 
from  God,  thou  wilt  overcome  them,  wert  thou  alone." 
When  I  heard  these  words,  I  put  my  trust  in  God  the  Most 
High,  and  gathering  together  those  who  remained  with 
me,  fell  upon  mine  enemies  at  unawares  in  the  night 
They  deemed  us  many  and  fled  on  the  shamefuUest  wise, 
whereupon  I  entered  my  city  and  repossessed  m)rself  of 
my  place  by  the  might  of  God  the  Most  High,  and  now  I 
fight  not  but  [trusting]  in  His  aid.' 

When  Bekhtzeman  heard  this,  he  awoke  from  his 
heedlessness  and  said,  'Extolled  be  the  perfection  ol 
God  the  Great!  O  king,  this  is  my  case  and  my  story, 
nothing  added  and  nought  diminished,   for  I  am   King 


Il8 

Bekhtzeman  and  all  this  happened  to  me;  wherefore  1 
will  seek  the  gate  of  God['s  mercy]  and  repent  unto 
Him.'  So  he  went  forth  to  one  of  the  mountains  and 
there  worshipped  God  awhile,  till  one  night,  as  he  slept, 
one  appeared  to  him  in  a  dream  and  said  to  him,  *0 
Bekhtzeman,  Grod  accepteth  thy  repentance  and  openeth 
on  thee  [the  gate  of  succour]  and  will  further  thee 
against  thine  enemy.'  When  he  was  certified  of  this  in 
the  dream,  he  arose  and  turned  back,  intending  for  his 
own  city;  and  when  he  drew  near  thereunto,  he  saw  a 
company  of  the  king's  retainers,  who  said  to  him, 
'Whence  art  thou?  We  see  that  thou  art  a  stranger 
and  fear  for  thee  from  this  king,  for  that  every  stranger 
who  enters  this  city,  he  destroys  him,  of  his  fear  of 
King  Bekhtzeman.'  Quoth  Bekhtzeman,  'None  shall 
hurt  him  nor  advantage  him  save  God  the  Most  High.' 
And  they  answered,  saying,  '  Indeed,  he  hath  a  vast  army 
and  his  heart  is  fortified  in  the  multitude  of  his  troops.' 

When  King  Bekhtzeman  heard  this,  his  heart  was  com- 
forted and  he  said  in  himself,  *I  put  my  trust  in  Gkni 
If  He  will,  I  shall  overcome  mine  enemy  by  the  might 
of  God  the  Most  High.'  So  he  said  to  the  folk,  '  Know 
ye  not  who  I  am  ? '  and  they  answered,  '  No,  by  Allah.' 
Quoth  he,  *I  am  King  Bekhtzeman.'  When  they  heard 
this  and  knew  that  it  was  indeed  he,  they  dismounted 
from  their  horses  and  kissed  his  stirrup,  to  do  him  honour, 
and  said  to  him,  'O  king,  why  hast  thou  thus  adventured 
thyself?'  Quoth  he,  'Indeed,  my  life  is  a  light  matter 
to  me  and  I  put  my  trust  in  God  the  Most  High,  looking 
to  Him  for  protection.'    And  they  answered  him,  saying, 


119 

*  May  this  suffice  thee  !  We  will  do  with  thee  that  which 
is  in  our  power  and  whereof  thou  art  worthy :  comfort  thy 
heart,  for  we  will  succour  thee  with  our  goods  and  our 
lives,  and  we  are  his  chief  officers  and  the  most  in  favour 
with  him  of  all  folk.  So  we  will  take  thee  with  us  and 
cause  the  folk  follow  after  thee,  for  that  the  inclination 
of  the  people,  all  of  them,  is  to  thee.'  Quoth  he,  *  Do 
that  unto  which  God  the  Most  High  enableth  you.' 

So  they  carried  him  into  the  city  and  hid  him  with  them. 
Moreover,  they  agreed  with  a  company  of  the  king's  chief 
officers,  who  had  aforetime  been  those  of  Bekhtzeman, 
and  acquainted  them  with  this;  whereat  they  rejoiced 
with  an  exceeding  joy.  Then  they  assembled  together 
to  Bekhtzeman  and  made  a  covenant  and  handfast  [of 
fealty]  with  him  and  fell  upon  the  enemy  at  unawares  and 
slew  him  and  seated  King  Bekhtzeman  again  on  the 
throne  of  his  kingship.  And  his  affairs  prospered  and 
God  amended  his  estate  and  restored  His  bounty  to  him, 
and  he  ruled  his  subjects  justly  and  abode  in  the  obedience 
of  the  Most  High.  On  this  wise,  O  king,"  continued  the 
young  treasurer,  "  he  with  whom  God  is  and  whose  intent 
is  pure,  meeteth  nought  but  good.  As  for  me,  I  have  no 
helper  other  than  God,  and  I  am  content  to  submit  myself 
to  His  ordinance,  for  that  He  knoweth  the  purity  of  my 
intent." 

With  this  the  king's  wrath  subsided  and  he  said, 
"Restore  him  to  the  prison  till  the  morrow,  so  we  may 
look  into  his  afifair." 


OF    CLEMENCY. 

When  it  was  the  seventh  day,  the  seventh  vizier,  whose 
name  was  Bihkemal,  came  in  to  the  king  and  prostrating 
himself  to  him,  said,  "O  king,  what  doth  thy  long- 
sufifering  with  this  youth  advantage  thee?  Indeed  the 
folk  talk  of  thee  and  of  him.  Why,  then,  dost  thou 
postpone  the  putting  him  to  death  ?  "  The  vizier's  words 
aroused  the  king's  anger  and  he  bade  bring  the  youth. 
So  they  brought  him  before  him,  shackled,  and  Azadbekht 
said  to  him,  "  Out  on  thee  I  By  Allah,  after  this  day  there 
abideth  no  deliverance  for  thee  from  my  hand,  for  that 
thou  hast  outraged  mine  honour,  and  there  can  be  no 
forgiveness  for  thee." 

"O  king,"  answered  the  youth,  "there  is  no  great 
forgiveness  save  in  case  of  a  great  crime,  for  according 
as  the  o£fence  is  great,  in  so  much  is  forgiveness  magnified 
and  it  is  no  dishonour  to  the  like  of  thee  if  he  spare  the 
like  of  me.  Verily,  Allah  knoweth  that  there  is  no  fault 
in  me,  and  indeed  He  commandeth  unto  clemency,  and 
no  clemency  is  greater  than  that  which  spareth  from 
slaughter,  for  that  thy  forgiveness  of  him  whom  thou 
purposest  to  put  to  death  is  as  the  quickening  of  a  dead 
man ;  and  whoso  doth  evil  shall  find  it  before  him,  even 
as  it  was  with  King  BUikerd."  "  And  what  is  the  story  of 
King  Bihkerd?"  asked  the  king.  "O  king/'  answered 
the  youth, 


121 


STORY  OF  KING  BIHKERD. 

"Tliere  was  once  a  king  named  Bihkerd  and  he  had 
wealth  galore  and  many  troops ;  but  his  deeds  were  evil 
and  he  would  punish  for  a  slight  offence  and  never  for- 
gave. He  went  forth  one  day  to  hunt  and  one  of  his 
servants  shot  an  arrow,  which  lit  on  the  king's  ear  and 
cut  it  off.  Quoth  Bihkerd,  'Who  shot  that  arrow?' 
So  the  guards  brought  him  in  haste  the  offender,  whose 
name  was  Yetrou,  and  he  of  his  fear  fell  down  on  the 
ground  in  a  swoon.  Then  said  the  king,  'Put  him  to 
death;'  but  Yetrou  said,  *0  King,  this  that  hath  befallen 
was  not  of  my  choice  nor  of  my  knowledge;  so  do  thou 
pardon  me,  in  the  hour  of  thy  power  over  me,  for  that 
clemency  is  of  the  goodliest  of  things  and  belike  it  shall 
be  [in  this  world]  a  provision  and  a  good  work  [for 
which  thou  shalt  be  requited]  one  of  these  days,  and 
a  treasure  [laid  up  to  thine  account]  with  God  in  the 
world  to  come.  Pardon  me,  therefore,  and  fend  off  evil 
from  me,  so  shall  God  fend  off  from  thee  evil  the  like 
thereof.'  When  the  king  heard  this,  it  pleased  him  and 
he  pardoned  the  servant,  albeit  he  had  never  before 
pardoned  any. 

Now  this  servant  was  of  the  sons  of  the  kings  and  had 
fled  from  his  father,  on  account  of  ah  offence  he  had 
committed.  Then  he  went  and  took  service  with  King 
Bihkerd  and  there  happened  to  him  what  happened. 
Aftei  awhile,  it  chanced  that  a  man  recognized  him  and 
went  and  told  his  father,  who  sent  him  m  letter,  comforting 


122 

his  heart  and  mind  and  [beseeching  him]  to  retmn  to 
him.  So  he  returned  to  his  father,  who  came  forth  to 
meet  him  and  rejoiced  in  him,  and  the  prince's  affairs 
were  set  right  with  him. 

It  befell,  one  day  of  the  days,  that  King  Bihkerd 
embarked  in  a  ship  and  put  out  to  sea,  so  he  might  fish ; 
but  the  wind  blew  on  them  and  the  ship  foundered.  The 
king  won  ashore  on  a  plank,  imknown  of  any,  and  came 
forth,  naked,  on  one  of  the  coasts;  and  it  chanced  that 
he  landed  in  the  country  whereof  the  father  of  the  youth 
aforesaid,  [his  sometime  servant],  was  king.  So  he  came 
in  the  night  to  the  gate  of  the  latter's  city  and  [finding 
it  shut],  took  up  his  lodging  [for  the  night]  in  a  burying- 
place  there. 

When  the  morning  morrowed  and  the  folk  came  forth 
of  the  city,  they  found  a  murdered  man  cast  down  in 
a  comer  of  the  burial-ground  and  seeing  Bihkerd  there^ 
doubted  not  but  it  was  he  who  had  slain  him;  so  they 
laid  hands  on  him  and  carried  him  up  to  the  king  and 
said  to  him,  'This  fellow  hath  slain  a  man.'  The  king 
bade  imprison  him;  [so  they  clapped  him  in  prison] 
and  he  fell  a-saying  in  himself,  what  while  he  was  in  the 
prison,  *A11  that  hath  befallen  me  is  of  the  abundance 
of  my  sins  and  my  tyranny,  for,  indeed,  I  have  slain  much 
people  unrighteously  and  this  is  the  requital  of  my  deeds 
and  that  which  I  have  wrought  aforetime  of  oppression.' 
As  he  was  thus  pondering  in  himself,  there  came  a  bird 
and  lighted  down  on  the  coign  of  the  prison,  whereupon, 
of  his  much  eagerness  in  the  chase,  he  took  a  stone  and 
cast  it  at  the  bird. 


1-23 

Now  the  king's  son  was  playing  in  the  exercise-ground 
with  the  ball  and  the  mall,  and  the  stone  lit  on  his  ear 
and  cut  it  off,  whereupon  the  prince  fell  down  in  a  swoon. 
So  they  enquired  who  had  thrown  the  stone  and  [finding 
that  it  was  Bihkerd,]  took  him  and  carried  him  before  the 
prince,  who  bade  put  him  to  death.  Accordingly,  they 
cast  the  turban  from  his  head  and  were  about  to  bind 
his  eyes,  when  the  prince  looked  at  him  and  seeing  him 
cropped  of  an  ear,  said  to  him,  '  Except  thou  wert  a  lewd 
fellow,  thine  ear  had  not  been  cut  off.'  'Not  so,  by 
Allah ! '  answered  Bihkerd.  *  Nay,  but  the  story  [of  the 
loss]  of  my  ear  is  thus  and  thus,  and  I  pardoned  him  who 
smote  me  with  an  arrow  and  cut  off  my  ear.'  When  the 
prince  heard  this,  he  looked  in  his  face  and  knowing  him, 
cried  out  and  said,  *Art  thou  not  Bihkerd  the  king?' 
•Yes,'  answered  he,  and  the  prince  said  to  him  'What 
bringeth  thee  here  ? '  So  he  told  him  all  that  had  betided 
him  and  the  folk  marvelled  and  extolled  the  perfection  of 
God  the  Most  High. 

Then  the  prince  rose  to  him  and  embraced  him  and 
kissed  him  and  entreated  him  with  honour.  Moreover,  he 
seated  him  in  a  chair  and  bestowed  on  him  a  dress  of 
honour ;  and  he  turned  to  his  father  and  said  to  him, 
•This  is  the  king  who  pardoned  me  and  this  is  his  ear 
that  I  cut  off  with  an  arrow;  and  indeed  he  deserveth 
pardon  from  me,  for  that  he  pardoned  me.'  Then  said  he 
to  Bihkerd,  'Verily,  the  issue  of  clemency  hath  been  a 
provision  tor  thee  [in  thine  hour  of  need].'  And  they 
entreated  him  with  the  utmost  kindness  and  sent  him  back 
to  his  own  country  in  all  honour  and  worship.     Know, 


124 

then,  O  King,"  continued  the  youth,  "that  there  fa  no 
goodlier  thing  than  clemency  and  that  all  thou  dost 
thereof,  thou  shalt  find  before  thee,  a  treasure  laid  op 
for  thee." 


When  the  king  heard  this,  his  wrath  subsided  and  he 
said,  "Carry  him  back  to  the  prison  till  the  morrow,  so  wt 
may  look  into  his  afiair/* 


tE^t  (Si^tlf  Hag, 
OF   ENVY  AND    MALICE. 

When  it  was  the  eighth  day,  the  viziers  all  assembled 
and  took  counsel  togethei  and  said,  "  How  shall  we  do 
with  this  youth,  who  baffleth  us  with  his  much  talk? 
Indeed,  we  fear  lest  he  be  saved  and  we  fall  [into  per- 
dition]. Wherefore,  let  us  all  go  in  to  the  king  and 
unite  our  efforts  to  overcome  him,  ere  he  appear  without 
guilt  and  come  forth  and  get  the  better  of  us."  So  they 
all  went  in  to  the  king  and  prostrating  themselves  before 
him,  said  to  him,  "O  king,  have  a  care  lest  this  youth 
beguile  thee  with  his  sorcery  and  bewitch  thee  with  his 
craft.  If  thou  heardest  what  we  hear,  thou  wouldst  not 
suffer  him  live,  no,  not  one  day.  So  pay  thou  no  heed 
to  his  speech,  for  we  are  thy  viziers,  [who  endeavour 
for]  thy  continuance,  and  if  thou  hearken  not  to  our 
word,  to  whose  word  wilt  thou  hearken?  Sec,  we  are 
ten  viziers  who  testify  against  this  youth  that  he  is  guilty 
and  entered  not  the  king's  sleeping-chamber  but  with 
evil  intent,  so  he  might  put  the  king  to  shame  and 
outrage  his  honour;  and  if  the  king  slay  him  not,  let 
him  banish  him  his  realm,  so  the  tongue  of  the  folk 
may  desist  from  him." 

When  the  king  heard  his  viziers'  words,  he  was  ex- 
ceeding wroth  and  bade  bring  the  youth,  and  when  he 
came  in  to  the  king,  the  viziers  all  cried  out  with  one 
voice,  sajdng,  "O  scant  o'   grace,  thinkest    thou    to  save 


126 

thyself  from  slaughter  by  crafl  and  gufle,  that  thou 
beguilest  the  king  with  thy  talk  and  hopest  pardon  foi 
the  like  of  this  great  crime  which  thou  hast  committed  ?  " 
Then  the  king  bade  fetch  the  headsman,  so  he  might 
smite  ofiF  his  head ;  whereupon  each  of  the  viziers  fell 
a-saying,  "  I  will  slay  him ; "  and  they  sprang  upon  him. 
Quote  the  youth,  "O  king,  consider  and  ponder  these 
men's  eagerness.  Is  this  of  envy  or  no?  They  would 
fain  make  severance  between  thee  and  me,  so  there  may 
fall  to  them  what  they  shall  plunder,  as  aforetime."  And 
the  king  said  to  him,  '*  Consider  their  testimony  against 
thee."  "  O  king,"  answered  the  young  man,  "  how  shall 
they  testify  of  that  which  they  saw  not?  This  is  but 
envy  and  rancour;  and  thou,  if  thou  slay  me,  thou  wilt 
regret  me,  and  I  fear  lest  there  betide  thee  of  repentance 
that  which  betided  Ilan  Shah,  by  reason  of  the  malice  of 
his  viziers."  "  And  what  is  his  story  ? "  asked  Azadbekht. 
"  O  king,"  replied  the  youth, 

STORY  OF  ILAN  SHAH  AND  ABOU  TEMAM. 

"  There  was  once  a  merchant  named  Abou  Temam,  and 
he  was  a  man  of  understanding  and  good  breeding,  quick- 
witted and  truthful  in  all  his  affairs,  and  he  had  wealth 
galore.  Now  there  was  in  his  land  an  unjust  king  and  a 
jealous,  and  Abou  Temam  feared  for  his  wealth  from  this 
king  and  said,  '  I  will  remove  hence  to  another  place 
where  I  shall  not  be  in  fear.'  So  he  made  for  the  city  of 
Ilan  Shah  and  built  himselt  a  palace  therein  and  trans- 
porting  his   wealth    thither,    took    up    his    abode    there. 


127 

Presently,  the  news  of  him  reached  King  Ilan  Shahj 
80  he  sent  to  bid  him  to  his  presence  and  said  to  him, 
*  We  know  of  thy  coming  to  us  and  thine  entry  under  our 
allegiance,  and  indeed  we  have  heard  of  thine  excellence 
and  wit  and  generosity ;  so  welcome  to  thee  and  fair 
welcome  I  The  land  is  thy  land  and  at  thy  commandment, 
and  whatsoever  occasion  thou  hast  unto  us,  it  is  [already] 
accomplished  unto  thee;  and  it  behoveth  that  thou  be 
near  our  person  and  of  our  assembly.'  Abou  Temam 
prostrated  himself  to  the  king  and  said  to  him,  *  O  king, 
I  will  serve  thee  with  my  wealth  and  my  life,  but  do  thou 
excuse  me  from  nearness  unto  thee,  for  that,  [if  I  took 
service  about  thy  person],  I  should  not  be  safe  from 
enemies  and  enviers.'  Then  he  addressed  himself  to 
serve  the  king  with  presents  and  largesses,  and  the  king 
saw  him  to  be  intelligent,  well-bred  and  of  good  counsel ; 
so  he  committed  to  him  the  ordinance  of  his  affairs  and 
in  his  hand  was  the  power  to  bind  and  loose. 

Now  Ilan  Shah  had  three  viziers,  in  whose  hands  the 
affairs  [of  the  kingdom]  were  [aforetime]  and  they  had 
been  used  to  leave  not  the  king  night  nor  day ;  but  they 
became  shut  out  from  him  by  reason  of  Abou  Temam  and 
the  king  was  occupied  with  him  to  their  exclusion.  So 
they  took  counsel  together  upon  the  matter  and  said, 
'What  counsel  ye  we  should  do,  seeing  that  the  king 
is  occupied  from  us  with  yonder  man,  and  indeed  he 
honoureth  him  more  than  us?  But  now  come,  let  us 
cast  about  for  a  device,  whereby  we  may  remove  him 
from  the  king.'  So  each  of  them  spoke  forth  that  which 
was  in  his  mind,  and  one  of  them  said,  '  The  king  of  the 


128 

Turks  hath  a  daughter,  whose  like  there  is  not  in  the 
world,  and  whatsoever  messenger  goeth  to  demand  her 
in  marriage,  her  father  slayeth  him.  Now  our  king  hath 
no  knowledge  of  this;  so,  come,  let  us  foregather  with 
him  and  bring  up  the  talk  of  her.  When  his  heart  it 
taken  with  her,  we  will  counsel  him  to  despatch  Abou 
Temam  to  seek  her  hand  in  marriage;  whereupon  her 
father  will  slay  him  and  we  shall  be  quit  of  him,  for  we 
have  had  enough  of  his  affair. " 

Accordingly,  they  all  went  in  to  the  king  one  day  (and 
Abou  Temam  was  present  among  them,)  and  mentioned 
the  affair  of  the  damsel,  the  king's  daughter  of  the  Turks, 
and  enlarged  upon  her  charms,  till  the  king's  heart  was 
taken  with  her  and  he  said  to  them,  '  We  will  send  one 
to  demand  her  in  marriage  for  us ;  but  who  shall  be  our 
messenger?'  Quoth  the  viziers,  'There  is  none  for  this 
business  but  Abou  Temam,  by  reason  of  his  wit  and  good 
breeding ; '  and  the  king  said,  *  Indeed,  even  as  ye  say, 
none  is  fitting  for  this  affair  but  he.'  Then  he  turned 
to  Abou  Temam  and  said  to  him,  'Wilt  thou  not  go 
with  my  message  and  seek  me  [in  marriage]  the  king's 
daughter  of  the  Tvnks  ? '  and  he  answered,  *  Hearkening 
and  obedience,  O  king.' 

So  they  made  ready  his  affair  and  the  king  conferred 
on  him  a  dress  of  honour,  and  he  took  with  him  a  present 
and  a  letter  under  the  king's  hand  and  setting  out,  fared 
on  till  he  came  to  the  [capital]  city  of  Turkestaa  When 
the  king  of  the  Turks  knew  of  his  coming,  he  despatched 
his  officers  to  receive  him  and  entreated  him  with  honour 
and  lodged  him  as  befitted  his  rank.     Then  he  entertained 


129 

him  three  days,  after  which  he  summoned  him  to  his 
presence  and  Abou  Temam  went  in  to  him  and  prostrat- 
ing himself  before  him,  as  beseemeth  unto  kings,  laid 
the  present  before  him  and  gave  him  the  letter. 

The  king  read  the  letter  and  said  to  Abou  Temam, 
**  We  will  do  what  behoveth  in  the  matter ;  but,  O  Abou 
Temam,  needs  must  thou  see  my  daughter  and  she  thee, 
and  needs  must  thou  hear  her  speech  and  she  thine.*  So 
saying,  he  sent  him  to  the  lodging  of  the  princess,  who 
had  had  notice  of  this;  so  that  they  had  adorned  her 
sitting-chamber  with  the  costliest  that  might  be  of 
utensils  of  gold  and  silver  and  the  like,  and  she  seated 
herself  on  a  throne  of  gold,  clad  in  the  most  sumptuous 
of  royal  robes  and  ornaments.  When  Abou  Temam 
entered,  he  bethought  himself  and  said,  'The  wise  say, 
he  who  restraineth  his  sight  shall  suffer  no  evil  and  he 
who  guardeth  his  tongue  shall  hear  nought  of  foul,  and 
he  who  keepeth  watch  over  his  hand,  it  shall  be  prolonged 
and  not  curtailed.' '  So  he  entered  and  seating  himself  on 
the  ground,  [cast  down  his  eyes  and]  covered  his  hands 
and  feet  with  his  dress.*  Quoth  the  king's  daughter  to 
him,  *Lift  thy  head,  O  Abou  Temam,  and  look  on  me 
and  speak  with  me.'  But  he  spoke  not  neither  raised 
his  head,  and  she  continued,  'They  sent  thee  but  that 
thou  mightest  look  on  me  and  speak  with  me,  and 
behold,  thou  speakest  not    at  alL     Take  of  these  pearls 

^  This  phrase  refers  to  the  Arab  idiom,  "  His  hand  (or  arm)  is  long 
or  short,"  i.e.  he  is  a  man  of  great  or  little  puissance. 

•  The  Arabs  consider  it  a  want  of  respect  to  allow  the  hands  ot  feet 
to  remam  exposed  in  the  presence  of  a  superior. 

VOL    I.  9 


130 

that  be  around  thee  and  of  these  jewels  and  gold  and 
silver.  But  he  put  not  forth  his  hand  unto  aught,  and 
when  she  saw  that  he  paid  no  heed  to  anything,  she 
was  angry  and  said,  *They  have  sent  me  a  messenger, 
blind,  dumb  and  deaC 

Then  she  sent  to  acquaint  her  &ther  with  this ;  where- 
upon the  king  called  Abou  Temam  to  him  and  said  to 
him,  *  Thou  earnest  not  but  to  see  my  daughter.  Why, 
then,  hast  thou  not  looked  upon  her  ? '  Quoth  Aboa 
Temam,  •  I  saw  everything.'  And  the  king  said,  *  Why 
didst  thou  not  take  somewhat  of  that  which  thou  sawest 
of  jewels  and  the  like  ?  For  they  were  set  for  thee.'  But 
he  answered,  *It  behoveth  me  not  to  put  out  my  hand 
to  aught  that  is  not  mine.*  When  the  king  heard  his 
speech,  he  gave  him  a  sumptuous  dress  of  honour  and 
loved  him  exceedingly  and  said  to  him,  'Come,  look  at 
this  pit*  So  Abou  Temam  went  up  [to  the  mouth  of  the 
pit]  and  looked,  and  behold,  it  was  full  of  heads  of  men ; 
and  the  king  said  to  him,  'These  are  the  heads  of  am- 
bassadors, whom  I  slew,  for  that  I  saw  them  without  loyalty 
to  their  masters,  and  I  was  used,  whenas  I  saw  an  am- 
bassador without  breeding,*  to  say,  "  He  who  sent  him  is 
less  of  breeding  than  he,  for  that  the  messenger  is  the 
tongue  of  him  who  sendeth  him  and  his  breeding  is  of 
his  master's  breeding;  and  whoso  is  on  this  wise,  it 
befitteth  not  that  he  be  akin  to  me." «  So,  because  of  this, 
I  used  to  put  the  messengers  to  death;  but,  as  for  thee, 
thou  hast  overcome  us  and  won  my  daughter,  of  the 
excellence  of  thy  breeding;  so  be  of  good  heart,  for  she 
^  Adeb.  See  ant^,  p.  54,  note  9.     *  iu.  that  he  become  vaj  son-in-law. 


131 

is  thy  master's.*  Then  he  sent  him  back  to  king  Ilan 
Shah  with  presents  and  rarities  and  a  letter,  saying,  '  This 
that  I  have  done  is  in  honour  of  thee  and  of  thine 
ambassador.' 

When  Abou  Temam  returned  with  [news  of]  the  ac- 
complishment of  his  errand  and  brought  the  presents  and 
the  letter,  King  Ilan  Shah  rejoiced  in  this  and  redoubled 
in  showing  him  honour  and  made  much  of  him.  Some 
days  thereafterward,  the  king  of  Turkestan  sent  his 
daughter  and  she  went  in  to  King  Ilan  Shah,  who  rejoiced 
in  her  with  an  exceeding  joy  and  Abou  Temam's  worth 
was  exalted  in  his  sight.  When  the  viziers  saw  this,  they 
redoubled  in  envy  and  despite  and  said,  *  An  we  contrive 
us  not  a  device  to  rid  us  of  this  man,  we  shall  perish 
of  rage.'  So  they  bethought  them  [and  agreed  upon] 
a  device  they  should  practise. 

Then  they  betook  themselves  to  two  boys  aflFected  to  the 
[special]  service  of  the  king,  who  slept  not  but  on  their 
knee,*  and  they  lay  at  his  head,  for  that  they  were  his  pages 
of  the  chamber,  and  gave  them  each  a  thousand  dinars 
of  gold,  saying,  'We  desire  of  you  that  ye  do  somewhat 
for  us  and  take  this  gold  as  a  provision  against  your 
occasion.'  Quoth  the  boys,  'What  is  it  ye  would  have 
us  do?'  And  the  viziers  answered,  'This  Abou  Temam 
hath  marred  our  affairs  for  us,  and  if  his  case  abide  on  this 
wise,  he  will  estrange  us  all  from  the  king's  favour;  and 
what  we  desire  of  you  is  that,  when  ye  are  alone  with  the 

^  It  is  a  common  Eastern  practice  to  have  the  feet  kneaded  and 
pressed  (shampooed)  for  the  purpose  of  'nducing  sleep,  and  thus  the 
king  would  habitually  fall  asleep  with  his  feet  on  the  knees  of  his  pages. 


13* 

king  and  he  leaneth  back,  as  he  were  asleep,  one  of  you 
say  to  his  fellow,  "Verily,  the  king  hath  taken  Abou 
Temam  into  his  especial  favour  and  hath  advanced  him 
to  high  rank  with  him,  yet  is  he  a  transgressor  against  the 
king's  honour  and  an  accursed  one."  Then  let  the  other 
of  you  ask,  "  And  what  is  his  transgression  ? "  And  the 
first  make  answer,  "He  outrageth  the  king's  honoiu-  and 
saith,  *The  King  of  Turkestan  was  used,  whenas  one 
went  to  him  to  seek  his  daughter  in  marriage,  to  slay  him ; 
but  me  he  spared,  for  that  she  took  a  liking  to  me,  and  by 
reason  of  this  he  sent  her  hither,  because  she  loved  me.* " 
Then  let  his  fellow  say,  "  Knowest  thou  this  for  truth  ? " 
And  the  other  reply,  "  By  Allah,  this  is  well  known  unto 
all  the  folk,  but,  of  their  fear  of  the  king,  they  dare  not 
bespeak  him  thereof;  and  as  often  as  the  king  is  absent 
a-hunting  or  on  a  journey,  Abou  Temam  comes  to  her  and 
is  private  with  her." '  And  the  boys  answered,  *  We  will 
say  this.* 

Accordingly,  one  nigh^  when  they  were  alone  with  the 
king  and  he  leant  back,  as  he  were  asleep,  they  said  these 
words  and  the  king  heard  it  all  and  was  like  to  die  of 
rage  and  said  in  himself,  'These  are  yoxmg  boys,  not 
come  to  years  of  discretion,  and  have  no  intrigue  with 
any  ;  and  except  they  had  heard  these  words  from  some 
one,  they  had  not  spoken  with  each  other  thereof*  When 
it  was  morning,  wrath  overmastered  him,  so  that  he  stayed 
not  neither  deliberated,  but  summoned  Abou  Temam  and 
taking  him  apart,  said  to  him,  'Whoso  guardeth  not  his 
lord's  honour,  ^  what  behoveth  unto  him  ?  *  Quoth  Abou 
*  Syn.  whoso  respecteth  not  his  lord's  women. 


133 

Temam,  *  It  behoveth  that  his  lord  guard  not  his  honour.* 
*And  whoso  entereth  the  king's  house  and  playeth  the 
traitor  with  him,'  continued  the  king,  *what  behoveth 
unto  him?'  And  Abou  Temam  answered,  *He  shall  not 
be  left  on  life.*  Whereupon  the  king  spat  in  his  face 
and  said  to  him,  'Both  these  things  hast  thou  done.* 
Then  he  drew  his  dagger  on  him  in  haste  and  smiting 
him  in  the  belly,  slit  it  and  he  died  forthright;  where- 
upon the  king  dragged  him  to  a  well  that  was  in  his 
palace  and  cast  him  therein. 

After  he  had  slain  him,  he  fell  into  repentance  and 
mourning  and  chagrin  waxed  upon  him,  and  none,  who 
questioned  him,  would  he  acquaint  with  the  cause  thereof, 
nor,  of  his  love  for  his  wife,  did  he  tell  her  of  this,  and 
whenas  she  asked  him  of  [the  cause  of]  his  grief,  he 
answered  her  not  When  the  viziers  knew  of  Abou 
Temam's  death,  they  rejoiced  with  an  exceeding  joy  and 
knew  that  the  king's  grief  arose  from  regret  for  him.  As 
for  Ilan  Shah,  he  used,  after  this,  to  betake  himself  by 
night  to  the  sleeping-chamber  of  the  two  boys  and  spy 
upon  them,  so  he  might  hear  what  they  said  concerning 
his  wife.  As  he  stood  one  night  privily  at  the  door  of 
their  chamber,  he  saw  them  spread  out  the  gold  before 
them  and  play  with  it  and  heard  one  of  them  say,  *  Out 
on  us!  What  doth  this  gold  profit  us?  For  that  we 
cannot  buy  aught  therewith  neither  spend  it  upon  our- 
selves. Nay,  but  we  have  sinned  against  Abou  Temam 
and  done  him  to  death  unjustly.'  And  the  other  answered, 
*Had  we  known  that  the  king  would  presendy  kill  him, 
we  had  not  done  what  we  did.' 


134 

When  the  king  heard  this,  he  could  not  contain  himself, 
but  rushed  in  upon  them  and  said  to  them, '  Out  on  you  I 
What  did  ye?  Tell  me.'  And  they  said,  •Pardon,  O 
king.'  Quoth  he,  *  An  ye  would  have  pardon  from  God 
and  me,  it  behoveth  you  to  tell  me  the  truth,  for  nothing 
shall  save  you  from  me  but  truth-speaking.'  So  they 
prostrated  themselves  before  him  and  said,  *By  Allah, 
O  king,  the  viziers  gave  us  this  gold  and  taught  us  to 
lie  against  Abou  Teman,  so  thou  mightest  put  him  to 
death,  and  what  we  said  was  their  words.'  When  the 
king  heard  this,  he  plucked  at  his  beard,  till  he  was  like 
to  tear  it  up  by  the  roots  and  bit  upon  his  fingers,  till  he 
well-nigh  sundered  them  in  twain,  for  repentance  and 
sorrow  that  he  had  wrought  hastily  and  had  not  delayed 
fcdth  Abou  Temam,  so  he  might  look  into  his  affair. 

Then  he  sent  for  the  viziers  and  said  to  them,  *0 
wicked  viziers,  ye  thought  that  God  was  heedless  of  your 
deed,  but  your  wickedness  shall  revert  upon  you.  Know 
ye  not  that  whoso  diggeth  a  pit  for  his  brother  shall  fall 
into  it  ?  Take  from  me  the  punishment  of  this  world  and 
to-morrow  ye  shall  get  the  punishment  of  the  world  to 
come  and  requital  from  God.'  Then  he  bade  put  them  to 
death;  so  [the  headsman]  smote  oflF  their  heads  before 
the  king,  and  he  went  in  to  his  wife  and  acquainted 
her  with  that  wherein  he  had  transgressed  against  Abou 
Temam  J  whereupon  she  grieved  for  him  with  an  exceed- 
ing grief  and  the  king  and  the  people  of  his  household 
left  not  weeping  and  repenting  all  their  lives.  Moreover, 
they  brought  Abou  Temam  forth  of  the  well  and  the  king 
built  him  a  dome  ^  in  his  palace  and  buried  him  therein. 
'  i^.  a  domed  tomb. 


»3S 

See,  then,  O  august  king,"  continued  the  youth,  "  what 
envy  doth  and  injustice  and  how  God  caused  the  viziers' 
malice  revert  upon  their  own  necks;  and  I  trust  in  God 
that  He  will  succour  me  against  ail  who  envy  me  my 
favour  with  the  king  and  show  forth  the  truth  unto  him. 
Indeed,  I  fear  not  for  my  life  from  death ;  only  1  tear  lest 
the  king  repent  of  my  slaughter,  for  that  I  am  guiltless  of 
ofifence,  and  if  I  knew  that  I  were  guilty  of  aught,  my 
tongue  would  be  mute." 


When  the  king  heard  this,  he  bowed  [his  head]  in 
perplexity  and  confusion  and  said,  "  Carry  him  back  to  the 
prison  till  the  morrow,  so  we  may  look  into  his  afiOur** 


^t  i^tuti)  ISas. 

OF  DESTINY  OR   THAT   WHICH   IS   WRITTEN 
ON   THE  FOREHEAD. 

When  it  was  the  ninth  day,  the  viziers  [foregathered 
and]  said,  one  to  another,  **  Verily,  this  youth  baffleth  us, 
for  as  often  as  the  king  is  minded  to  put  him  to  death,  he 
beguileth  him  and  ensorcelleth  him  with  a  story ;  so  what 
deem  ye  we  should  do,  that  we  may  slay  him  and  be  at 
rest  from  him?"  Then  they  took  counsel  together  and 
were  of  accord  that  they  should  go  to  the  king's  wife  [and 
prompt  her  to  urge  the  king  to  slaughter  the  youth.  So 
they  betook  themselves  to  her]  and  said  to  her,  "  Thou 
art  heedless  of  this  aJSfair  wherein  thou  art  and  this  heed- 
lessness will  not  profit  thee;  whilst  the  king  is  occupied 
with  eating  and  drinking  and  diversion  and  forgetteth 
that  the  folk  beat  upon  tabrets  and  sing  of  thee  and  say, 
'The  king's  wife  loveth  the  youth;'  and  what  while  he 
abideth  on  life,  the  talk  will  increase  and  not  diminish." 
Quoth  she,  "  By  Allah,  it  was  ye  set  me  on  against  him, 
and  what  shall  I  do  [now]?"  And  they  answered,  "Do 
thou  go  in  to  the  king  and  weep  and  say  to  him,  *  Verily, 
the  women  come  to  me  and  tell  me  that  I  am  become 
a  byword  in  the  city,  and  what  is  thine  advantage  in  the 
sparing  of  this  youth  ?  If  thou  wilt  not  slay  him,  slay  me, 
■o  this  talk  may  be  estopped  from  ua.'  * 


137 

So  she  arose  and  tearing  hei  clothes,  went  in  to  the 
king,  in  the  presence  of  the  viziers,  and  cast  herself  upon 
him,  saying,  "O  king,  falleth  my  shame  not  upon  thee 
and  fearest  thou  not  reproach  ?  Indeed,  this  is  not  of  the 
behoof  of  kings  that  their  jealousy  over  their  women 
should  be  thus  [laggard].  Thou  art  heedless  and  all  the 
folk  of  the  realm  prate  of  thee,  men  and  women.  So 
either  slay  him,  that  the  talk  may  be  cut  ofl^  or  slay  me,  if 
thy  soul  will  not  consent  to  his  slaughter."  Thereupon 
the  king's  wrath  waxed  hot  and  he  said  to  her,  "  I  have  no 
pleasure  in  his  continuance  [on  life]  and  needs  must  I 
slay  him  this  day.  So  return  to  thy  house  and  comfort 
thy  heart." 

Then  he  bade  fetch  the  youth;  so  they  brought  him 
before  him  and  the  viziers  said,  "  O  base  of  origin,  out  on 
thee  I  Thy  term  is  at  hand  and  the  earth  hungereth  for 
thy  body,  so  it  may  devour  it."  But  he  answered  them, 
saying,  "Death  is  not  in  your  word  nor  in  your  envyj 
nay,  it  is  an  ordinance  written  upon  the  forehead ;  where- 
fore, if  aught  be  written  upon  my  forehead,  needs  must 
it  come  to  pass,  and  neither  endeavour  nor  thought- 
taking  nor  precaution  will  deliver  me  therefrom;  [but  it 
will  surely  happen]  even  as  happened  to  King  Ibrahim 
and  his  son."  Quoth  the  king,  "  Who  was  King  Ibrahim 
and  who  was  his  son  ?  "    And  the  youth  said,  ^  O  king, 


138 


STORY  OF  KING  IBRAHIM  AND  HIS  SON. 

There  was  once  a  king  of  the  kings,  by  came  Ibrahinii 
to  whom  the  kings  abased  themselves  and  did  obedience ; 
but  he  had  no  son  and  was  straitened  of  breast  because 
of  this,  fearing  lest  the  kingship  go  forth  of  his  hand. 
He  ceased  not  vehemently  to  desire  a  son  and  to  buy 
slave-girls  and  lie  with  them,  till  one  of  them  conceived, 
whereat  he  rejoiced  with  an  exceeding  joy  and  gave 
gifts  and  largesse  galore.  When  the  girl's  months  were 
accomplished  and  the  season  of  her  delivery  drew  near, 
the  king  summoned  the  astrologers  and  they  watched 
for  the  hour  of  her  child-bearing  and  raised  astrolabes 
[towards  the  sun]  and  took  strait  note  of  the  time.  The 
damsel  gave  birth  to  a  male  child,  whereat  the  king 
rejoiced  with  an  exceeding  joy,  and  the  people  heartened 
each  other  with  the  glad  news  of  this. 

Then  the  astrologers  made  their  calculations  and  looked 
into  his  nativity  and  his  ascendant,  whereupon  their  colour 
changed  and  they  were  confounded.  Quoth  the  king  to 
them,  *  Acquaint  me  with  his  horoscope  and  ye  shall  have 
assurance  and  fear  ye  not  of  aught'  *0  king,'  answered 
they,  'this  child's  nativity  denotes  that,  in  the  seventh 
year  of  his  age,  there  is  to  be  feared  for  him  from  a  lion, 
which  will  attack  him ;  and  if  he  be  saved  from  the  lion, 
there  will  betide  an  affair  yet  sorer  and  more  grievous.* 
•  What  is  that  ? '  asked  the  king ;  and  they  said,  *  We  will 
not  speak,  except  the  king  command  us  thereto  and  give 
us  assurance  from  [that  which  wej  fear.'    Quoth  the  king, 


139 

*  God  assure  you  1  *  And  they  said,  *  If  he  be  saved  from 
the  lion,  the  king's  destruction  will  be  at  his  hand/ 
When  the  king  heard  this,  his  colour  changed  and  his 
breast  was  straitened;  but  he  said  in  himself,  *I  will  be 
watchful  and  do  my  endeavour  and  suffer  not  the  lion 
to  eat  him.  It  cannot  be  that  he  will  kill  me,  and  indeed 
the  astrologers  lied.* 

Then  he  caused  rear  him  among  the  nurses  and 
matrons;  but  withal  he  ceased  not  to  ponder  the  saying 
of  the  astrologers  and  indeed  his  life  was  troubled.  So 
he  betook  himself  to  the  top  of  a  high  mountain  and 
dug  there  a  deep  pit  and  made  in  it  many  dwelling-places 
and  closets  and  filled  it  with  all  that  was  needful  of 
victual  and  raiment  and  what  not  else  and  made  in  it 
conduits  of  water  from  the  mountain  and  lodged  the  boy 
therein,  with  a  nurse  who  should  rear  him.  Moreover, 
at  the  first  of  each  month  he  used  to  go  to  the  mountain 
and  stand  at  the  mouth  of  the  pit  and  let  down  a  rope 
he  had  with  him  and  draw  up  the  boy  to  him  and  strain 
him  to  his  bosom  and  kiss  him  and  play  with  him  awhile, 
after  which  he  would  let  him  down  again  into  the  pit 
to  his  place  and  return;  and  he  used  to  count  the  days 
till  the  seven  years  should  pass  by. 

When  came  the  time  [of  the  accomplishment]  of  the 
foreordered  fate  and  the  fortune  graven  on  the  forehead 
and  there  abode  for  the  boy  but  ten  days  till  the  seven 
years  should  be  complete,  there  came  to  the  mountain 
hunters  hunting  wild  beasts  and  seeing  a  lion,  gave  chase 
to  him.  He  fled  from  them  and  seeking  refuge  in  the 
mountain,  fell  into  the  pit  in  its  midst.    The  nurse  saw 


140 

him  forthright  and  fled  from  him  into  one  of  the  closets ; 
whereupon  the  lion  made  for  the  boy  and  seizing  upon 
him,  tore  his  shoulder,  after  which  he  sought  the  closet 
wherein  was  the  nurse  and  falling  upon  her,  devoured 
her,  whilst  the  boy  abode  cast  down  in  a  swoon.  Mean- 
while, when  the  hunters  saw  that  the  lion  had  fallen  into 
the  pit,  they  came  to  the  mouth  thereof  and  heard  the 
shrieking  of  the  boy  and  the  woman;  and  after  awhile 
the  cries  ceased,  whereby  they  knew  that  the  lion  had 
made  an  end  of  them. 

Presently,  as  they  stood  by  the  mouth  of  the  pit^ 
the  lion  came  scrambling  up  the  sides  and  would  have 
issued  forth;  but,  as  often  as  he  showed  his  head, 
they  pelted  him  with  stones,  till  they  beat  him  down 
and  he  fell  j  whereupon  one  of  the  hunters  descended  into 
the  pit  and  despatched  him  and  saw  the  boy  wounded; 
after  which  he  went  to  the  cabinet,  where  he  found  the 
woman  dead,  and  indeed  the  lion  had  eaten  his  fill  of  her. 
Then  he  noted  that  which  was  therein  of  clothes  and  what 
not  else,  and  advising  his  fellows  thereoi^  fell  to  passing 
the  stuflf  up  to  them.  Moreover,  he  took  up  the  boy  and 
bringing  him  forth  of  the  pit,  carried  him  to  their  dwelling- 
place,  where  they  dressed  his  wounds  and  he  grew  up  with 
them,  but  acquainted  them  not  with  his  affair ;  and  indeed, 
when  they  questioned  him,  he  knew  not  what  he  should 
say,  for  that  he  was  little,  when  they  let  him  down  into 
the  pit.  The  hunters  marvelled  at  his  speech  and  loved 
him  with  an  exceeding  love  and  one  of  them  took  him  to 
ton  and  abode  rearing  him  with  him  [and  instructing  hira] 
in  hunting  and  riding  on  horseback,  till  he  attained  the 


141 

age  of  twelve  and  became  a  champion,  going  forth  with 
the  folk  to  the  chase  and  to  the  stopping  of  the  way. 

It  chanced  one  day  that  they  sallied  forth  to  stop  the 
way  and  fell  in  upon  a  caravan  in  the  night;  but  the 
people  of  the  caravan  were  on  their  guard ;  so  they  joined 
battle  with  the  robbers  and  overcame  them  and  slew  them 
and  the  boy  fell  wounded  and  abode  cast  down  in  that 
place  till  the  morrow,  when  he  opened  his  eyes  and  finding 
his  comrades  slain,  lifted  himself  up  and  rose  to  walk 
in  the  way.  Presently,  there  met  him  a  man,  a  treasure- 
seeker,  and  said  to  him,  'Whither  goest  thou,  O  youth?' 
So  he  told  him  what  had  betided  him  and  the  other  said, 
*  Be  of  good  heart,  for  that  [the  season  of]  thy  fair  fortune 
is  come  and  God  bringeth  thee  joy  and  solace.  I  am  one 
who  am  in  quest  of  a  hidden  treasure,  wherein  is  vast 
wealth.  So  come  with  me,  that  thou  mayst  help  me,  and 
I  will  give  thee  wealth,  wherewith  thou  shalt  provide  thy- 
self thy  life  long.'  Then  he  carried  the  youth  to  his 
dwelling  and  dressed  his  wound,  and  he  abode  with  him 
some  days,  till  he  was  rested  ;  when  he  took  him  and  two 
beasts  and  all  that  he  needed,  and  they  fared  on  till  they 
came  to  a  precipitous  mountain. 

Here  the  treasure-seeker  brought  out  a  book  and  reading 
therein,  dug  in  the  crest  of  the  mountain  five  cubits  deep, 
whereupon  there  appeared  to  him  a  stone.  He  pulled 
it  up  and  behold,  it  was  a  trap-door  covering  the  mouth 
of  a  pit.  So  he  waited  till  the  [foul]  air  was  come  forth 
from  the  midst  of  the  pit,  when  he  bound  a  rope  about  the 
bojr's  middle  and  let  him  down  to  the  bottom,  and  with 
him  a  lighted  flambeau.    The  boy  looked  and  beheld, 


142 

at  the  upper  end  of  the  pit,  wealth  galore ;  so  the  treasure- 
seeker  let  down  a  rope  and  a  basket  and  the  boy  fell  to 
filling  and  the  man  to  drawing  up,  till  the  latter  had  gotten 
his  sufficiency,  when  he  loaded  his  beasts  and  did  his 
occasion,  whilst  the  boy  looked  for  him  to  let  down  to 
him  the  rope  and  draw  him  up;  but  he  rolled  a  great 
stone  to  the  mouth  of  the  pit  and  went  away. 

When  the  boy  saw  what  the  treasure-seeker  had  done 
with  him  he  committed  his  affair  to  God  (extolled  be  His 
perfection  and  exalted  be  He !)  and  abode  perplexed 
concerning  his  case  and  said,  *  How  bitter  is  this  death  I ' 
For  that  indeed  the  world  was  darkened  on  him  and  the 
pit  was  blinded  to  him.     So  he  fell  a-weeping  and  saying, 

♦  I  was  delivered  from  the  lion  and  the  thieves  and  now 
is  my  death  [appointed  to  be]  in  this  pit,  where  I  shall 
die  lingeringly.'  And  he  abode  confounded  and  looked 
for  nothing  but  death.  As  he  pondered  [his  aflfair], 
behold,  he  heard  a  sound  of  water  running  with  a  mighty 
noise ;  so  he  arose  and  walked  in  the  pit,  following  after 
the  sound,  till  he  came  to  a  comer  and  heard  the  mighty 
running  of  water.  So  he  laid  his  ear  to  the  sound  of  the 
current  and  hearing  it  a  great  strength,  said  in  himself 

*  This  is  the  running  of  a  mighty  water  and  needs  must 
I  die  in  this  place,  be  it  to-day  or  to-morrow  j  so  I  will 
cast  myself  into  the  water  and  not  die  a  lingering  death  in 
this  pit* 

Then  he  braced  up  his  courage  and  gathering  his  skirts 
about  him,  threw  himself  into  the  water,  and  it  bore  him 
along  with  an  exceeding  might  and  carrying  him  under 
the  earth,  stayed  not  till  it  brought  him  out  into  a  deep 


>43 

valley,  wherethrough  ran  a  great  river,  that  welled  up 
from  under  the  earth.  When  he  found  himself  on  the 
surface  of  the  earth,  he  abode  perplexed  and  dazed  all 
that  day ;  after  which  he  came  to  himself  and  rising,  fared 
on  along  the  valley,  till  he  came  to  an  inhabited  land  and 
a  great  village  in  the  dominions  of  the  king  his  father. 
So  he  entered  the  village  and  foregathered  with  its  in- 
habitants, who  questioned  him  of  his  case ;  whereupon 
he  related  to  them  his  history  and  they  marvelled  at  him, 
how  God  had  delivered  him  from  all  this.  Then  he  took 
up  his  abode  with  them  and  they  loved  him  exceedingly. 

To  return  to  the  king  his  father.  When  he  went  to  the 
pit,  as  of  his  wont,  and  called  the  nurse,  she  returned  him 
no  answer,  whereat  his  breast  was  straitened  and  he  let 
down  a  man  who  [found  the  nurse  dead  and  the  boy  gone 
and]  acquainted  the  king  therewith ;  which  when  he  heard, 
he  buffeted  his  head  and  wept  passing  sore  and  descended 
into  the  midst  of  the  pit,  so  he  might  see  how  the  case 
stood.  There  he  found  the  nurse  slain  and  the  lion  dead, 
but  saw  not  the  boy ;  so  he  [returned  and]  acquainted  the 
astrologers  with  the  verification  of  their  words,  and  they 
said,  *  O  king,  the  lion  hath  eaten  him  j  destiny  hath  been 
accomplished  upon  him  and  thou  art  delivered  from  his 
hand ;  for,  had  he  been  saved  from  the  lion,  by  Allah,  we 
had  feared  for  thee  from  him,  for  that  the  king's  de- 
struction should  have  been  at  his  hand.'  So  the  king  left 
[sorrowing  for]  this  and  the  days  passed  by  and  the  a£Fair 
was  forgottea 

Meanwhile,  the  boy  [grew  up  and]  abode  with  the 
people  of  the  village,    and  when  God    willed    the    ac- 


144 

complishment  of  His  ordinance,  the  wht-li  endeavoar 
availeth  not  to  avert,  he  went  forth  with  a  company  of 
the  villagers,  to  stop  the  way.  The  folk  compUined 
of  them  to  the  king,  who  saUied  out  with  a  company  of 
his  men  and  surrounded  the  highwaymen  and  the  boy 
with  them,  whereupon  the  latter  drew  forth  an  arrow  and 
launched  it  at  them,  and  it  smote  the  king  in  his  vitals  and 
wounded  him.  So  they  carried  him  to  his  house,  after 
they  had  laid  hands  upon  the  youth  and  his  companions 
and  brought  them  before  the  king,  saying,  *What  biddest 
thou  that  we  do  with  them  ?  *  Quoth  he, '  I  am  presently 
in  concern  for  myself;  so  bring  me  the  astrologers/  Ac- 
cordingly, they  brought  them  before  him  and  Ke  said 
to  them,  '  Ye  told  me  that  my  death  should  be  by  slaying 
at  the  hand  of  my  son :  how,  then,  befalleth  it  that  I  have 
gotten  my  death-wound  on  this  wise  of  yonder  thieves?' 
The  astrologers  marvelled  and  said  to  him,  *  O  king,  it  is 
not  impossible  to  the  lore  of  the  stars,  together  with  the 
fore-ordinance  of  God,  that  he  who  hath  smitten  thee 
should  be  thy  son.' 

When  Ibrahim  heard  this,  he  let  fetch  the  thieves 
and  said  to  them,  'Tell  me  truly,  which  of  you  shot  the 
arrow  that  wounded  me.'  Quoth  they,  *  It  was  this  youth 
that  is  with  us.'  Whereupon  the  king  fell  to  looking 
upon  him  and  said  to  him,  *0  youth,  acquaint  me  with 
thy  case  and  tell  me  who  was  thy  father  and  thou  shall  have 
assurance  from  God.'  *  O  my  lord,'  answered  the  youth, 
*I  know  no  father;  as  for  me,  my  father  lodged  me  in 
a  pit  [when  I  was  little],  with  a  nurse  to  rear  me,  and 
one  day,  there  fell  in  upon  us  a   Uon,  which  tore  my 


145 

shoulder,  then  left  me  and  occupied  himself  with  the 
nurse  and  rent  her  in  pieces ;  and  God  vouchsafed  me 
one  who  brought  me  forth  of  the  pit*  Then  he  related 
to  him  all  that  had  befallen  him,  first  and  last ;  which 
when  Ibrahim  heard,  he  cried  out  and  said,  '  By  Allah, 
this  is  my  very  son ! '  And  he  said  to  him,  *  Uncover  thy 
shoulder.*    So  he  uncovered  it  and  behold,  it  was  scarred. 

Then  the  king  assembled  his  nobles  and  commons  and 
the  astrologers  and  said  to  them,  *  Know  that  what  God 
hath  graven  upon  the  forehead,  be  it  fair  fortune  or 
calamity,  none  may  avail  to  efface,  and  all  that  is  decreed 
unto  a  man  he  must  needs  abide.  Indeed,  this  my  care- 
taking  and  my  endeavour  profited  me  nought,  for  that 
which  God  decreed  unto  my  son,  he  hath  abidden  and 
that  which  He  decreed  unto  me  hath  betided  me.  Never- 
theless, I  praise  God  and  thank  Him  for  that  this  was  at 
my  son's  hand  and  not  at  the  hand  of  another,  and  praised 
be  He  for  that  the  kingship  is  come  to  my  son  I '  And 
he  strained  the  youth  to  his  breast  and  embraced  him 
and  kissed  him,  saying,  'O  my  son,  this  matter  was  on 
such  a  wise,  and  of  my  care  and  watchfulness  over  thee 
from  destiny,  I  lodged  thee  in  that  pit;  but  caretaking 
availed  not'  Then  he  took  the  crown  of  the  kingship 
and  set  it  on  his  son's  head  and  caused  the  folk  and  the 
people  swear  fealty  to  him  and  commended  the  subjects 
to  his  care  and  enjoined  him  to  justice  and  equity.  And 
he  took  leave  of  him  that  night  and  died  and  his  son 
reigned  in  his  stead. 

On  like  wise,  O  king,"  continued  the  young  treasurer, 
"is  it  with  thee.     If  God  have  written  aught  on  my  fore^ 

VOL.  I.  10 


146 

head,  needs  must  it  befall  me  and  my  speech  to  the  kmg 
shall  not  profit  me,  no,  nor  my  adducing  to  him  of 
[illustrative]  instances,  against  the  fore-ordinance  of  God. 
So  with  these  viziers,  for  all  their  eagerness  and  endeavour 
for  my  destruction,  this  shall  not  profit  them ;  for,  if  God 
[be  minded  to]  save  me,  He  will  give  me  the  victory  over 
them." 

When  the  king  heard  these  words,  he  abode  in  per- 
plexity and  said,  "Restore  him  to  the  prison  till  the 
morrow,  so  we  may  look  into  his  aflfair,  for  the  day 
draweth  to  an  end  and  I  mean  to  put  him  to  death  on 
exemplary  wise,  and  [to-morrow]  we  will  do  with  him 
that  which  he  meriteth.'* 


OF  THE  APPOINTED  TERM,*  WHICH,  IF  IT 
BE  ADVANCED,  MAY  NOT  BE  DEFERRED 
AND  IF  IT  BE  DEFERRED,  MAY  NOT  BE 
ADVANCED. 

When  it  was  the  tenth  day,  (now  this  day  was  called  El 
Mihrjan'  and  it  was  the  day  of  the  coming  in  of  the  folk, 
gentle  and  simple,  to  the  king,  so  they  might  give  him  joy 
and  salute  him  and  go  forth),  the  counsel  of  the  viziers 
fell  of  accord  that  they  should  speak  with  a  company  of 
the  notables  of  the  city  [and  urge  them  to  demand  of  the 
king  that  he  should  presently  put  the  youth  to  death].  So 
they  isaid  to  them,  '*  When  ye  go  in  to-day  to  the  king  and 
salute  him,  do  ye  say  to  him,  'O  king,  (to  God  be  the 
praise !)  thou  art  praiseworthy  of  policy  and  governance, 
just  to  all  thy  subjects ;  but  this  youth,  to  whom  thou  hast 
been  bountiful,  yet  hath  he  reverted  to  his  base  origin  and 
wrought  this  foul  deed,  what  is  thy  purpose  in  his  con- 
tinuance [on  life]?  Indeed,  thou  hast  prisoned  hirn  in 
thy  house,  and  every  day  thou  hearest  his  speech  and  thou 

'  Of  a  man's  life.  The  Muslims  believe  each  man's  last  hour  to  he 
written  in  a  book  called  "  The  Preserved  Tablet." 

•  t>.  the  Autumnal  Equinox,  one  of  the  two  great  festival  days  (the 
other  being  the  New  Year)  of  the  Persians.  See  my  "  Book  of  the 
Thousand  Nights  and  One  Night,"  VoL  IV.  p.  144. 


143 

knowest  not  what  the  folk  say.' "    And  they  answered  with» 
"  Hearkening  and  obedience.** 

So,  when  they  entered  with  the  folk  and  had  prostrated 
themselves  before  the  king  and  given  him  joy  and  he  had 
raised  their  rank,  [they  sat  down].  Now  it  was  the  custom 
of  the  folk  to  salute  and  go  forth  j  so,  when  they  sat  down, 
the  king  knew  that  they  had  a  word  that  they  would  fain 
say.  So  he  turned  to  them  and  said,  **  Ask  your  need.** 
And  the  viziers  also  were  present.  Accordingly,  they 
bespoke  him  with  all  that  these  latter  had  taught  them 
and  the  viziers  also  spoke  with  them ;  and  Azadbekht  said 
to  them,  "  O  folk,  I  know  that  this  your  speech,  there  is 
no  doubt  of  it,  proceedeth  from  love  and  loyal  counsel  to 
me,  and  ye  know  that,  were  I  minded  to  slay  half  these 
tolk,  I  could  avail  to  put  them  to  death  and  this  would  not 
be  difficult  to  me ;  so  how  shall  I  not  slay  this  youth  and 
he  in  my  power  and  under  the  grip  of  my  hand  ?  Indeed, 
his  crime  is  manifest  and  he  hath  incurred  pain  of  death 
and  I  have  only  deferred  his  slaughter  by  reason  of  the 
greatness  of  the  offence ;  for,  if  I  do  this  with  him  and  my 
proof  against  him  be  strengthened,  my  heart  is  healed  and 
the  heart  of  the  folk ;  and  if  I  slay  him  not  to-day,  his 
slaughter  shall  not  escape  me  to-morrow.** 

Then  he  bade  fetch  the  youth  and  when  he  was  present 
before  him,  he  prostrated  himself  to  him  and  prayed  for 
him ;  whereupon  quoth  the  king  to  him,  •*  Out  on  thee  I 
How  long  shall  the  folk  upbraid  me  on  thine  account 
and  blame  me  for  delaying  thy  slaughter?  Even  the 
people  of  my  city  blame  me  because  of  thee,  so  that 
I  am  grown  a  talkiug-stock  among  them,  and  indeed  they 


149 

come  in  to  me  and  upbraid  me  [and  urge  me]  to  put 
thee  to  death.  How  long  shall  I  delay  this?  Indeed, 
this  very  day  I  mean  to  shed  thy  blood  and  rid  the  folk 
of  thy  prate." 

**0  king,"  answered  the  youth,  "if  there  have  betided 
thee  talk  because  of  me,  by  Allah,  by  Allah  the  Great, 
those  who  have  brought  on  thee  this  talk  from  the  folk 
are  these  wicked  viziers,  who  devise  with  the  folk  and 
tell  them  foul  things  and  evil  concerning  the  king's  house ; 
but  I  trust  in  God  that  He  will  cause  their  malice  to 
revert  upon  their  heads.  As  for  the  king's  menace  of 
me  with  slaughter,  I  am  in  the  grasp  of  his  hand;  so 
let  not  the  king  occupy  his  mind  with  my  slaughter,  for 
that  I  am  like  unto  the  sparrow  in  the  hand  of  the  fowler ; 
if  he  will,  he  slaughtereth  him,  and  if  he  will,  he  looseth 
him.  As  for  the  delaying  of  my  slaughter,  it  [proceedeth] 
not  [from]  the  king,  but  from  Him  in  whose  hand  is  my 
life;  for,  by  Allah,  O  king,  if  God  willed  my  slaughter, 
thou  couldst  not  avail  to  postpone  it,  no,  not  for  a  single 
hour.  Indeed,  man  availeth  not  to  fend  off  evil  from 
himself,  even  as  it  was  with  the  son  of  King  Suleiman 
Shah,  whose  anxiety  and  carefulness  for  the  accomplish- 
ment of  his  desire  of  the  new-bom  child  [availed  him 
nothing],  for  his  last  hour  was  deferred  how  many  a  time ! 
and  God  saved  him  until  he  had  accomplished  his  [fore- 
ordained] period  and  had  fulfilled  [the  destined  term  of] 
his  life." 

"Out  on  thee  I**  exclaimed  the  king.  "How  great  is 
thy  craft  and  thy  talk  I  Tell  me,  what  was  their  story." 
And  the  youth  said,  "  O  king, 


ISO 


STORY  OF   KING  SULEIMAN   SHAH  AND 
HIS   SONS. 

There  was  once  a  king  named  Suleiman  Shah,  who  was 
goodly  of  polity  and  judgment,  and  he  had  a  brother 
who  died  and  left  a  daughter.  So  Suleiman  Shah  reared 
her  on  the  goodliest  wise  and  the  girl  grew  up,  endowed 
with  reason  and  perfection,  nor  was  there  in  her  time 
a  fairer  than  she.  Now  the  king  had  two  sons,  one  of 
whom  he  had  appointed  in  himself  that  he  would  marry 
her  withal,  and  the  other  purposed  in  himself  that  he 
would  take  her.  The  elder  son's  name  was  Belehwan 
and  that  of  the  younger  Melik  Shah,  and  the  girl  waa 
called  Shah  Khatoun. 

One  day.  King  Suleiman  Shah  went  in  to  his  brother's 
daughter  and  kissing  her  head,  said  to  her,  'Thou  art 
my  daughter  and  dearer  to  me  than  a  child,  for  the  love 
of  thy  father  deceased ;  wherefore  I  am  minded  to  marry 
thee  to  one  of  my  sons  and  appoint  him  my  heir  apparent, 
so  he  may  be  king  after  me.  Look,  then,  which  thou 
wilt  have  of  my  sons,  for  that  thou  hast  been  reared  with 
them  and  knowest  them.'  The  damsel  arose  and  kissing 
his  hand,  said  to  him,  *  O  my  lord,  I  am  thine  handmaid 
and  thou  art  the  ruler  over  me ;  so  whatsoever  pleaseth 
thee,  do,  for  that  thy  wish  is  higher  and  more  honourable 
and  nobler  [than  mine]  and  if  thou  wouldst  have  me  serve 
thee,  [as  a  handmaid],  the  rest  of  my  life,  it  were  liefer 
to  me  than  any  [husband].' 


151 

The  king  approved  her  speech  and  bestowed  on  hei 
E  dress  of  honour  and  gave  her  magnificent  gifts;  after 
which,  for  that  his  choice  had  fallen  upon  his  younger 
son,  Melik  Shah,  he  married  her  with  him  and  made  him 
his  heir  apparent  and  caused  the  folk  swear  fealty  to 
him.  When  this  came  to  the  knowledge  of  his  brother 
Belehwan  and  he  was  ware  that  his  younger  brother  had 
been  preferred  over  him,  his  breast  was  straitened  and 
the  affair  was  grievous  to  him  and  envy  entered  into 
him  and  rancour;  but  he  concealed  this  in  his  heart, 
whilst  fire  raged  therein  because  of  the  damsel  and  the 
kingship. 

Meanwhile  Shah  Khatoun  went  in  to  the  king's  son 
and  conceived  by  him  and  bore  a  son,  as  he  were  the 
resplendent  moon.  When  Belehwan  saw  this  that  had 
betided  his  brother,  jealousy  and  envy  overcame  him; 
BO  he  went  in  one  night  to  his  father's  house  and  coming 
to  his  brother's  lodging,  saw  the  nurse  sleeping  at  the 
chamber-door,  with  the  cradle  before  her  and  therein  his 
brother's  child  asleep.  Belehwan  stood  by  him  and  fell 
to  looking  upon  his  face,  the  radiance  whereof  was  as 
that  of  the  moon,  and  Satan  insinuated  himself  into  his 
heart,  so  that  he  bethought  himself  and  said,  'Why  is 
not  this  child  mine  ?  Indeed,  I  am  worthier  of  him  than 
my  brother,  [yea],  and  of  the  damsel  and  the  kingship.' 
Then  envy  got  the  better  of  him  and  anger  spurred 
him,  so  that  he  took  out  a  knife  and  setting  it  to  the 
child's  gullet,  cut  his  throat  and  would  have  severed  his 
windpipe. 

So  he  left   him  for  dead  and  entering    his    brother's 


152 

chamber,  saw  him  asleep,  with  the  damsel  by  his  side, 
and  thought  to  slay  her,  but  said  in  himself^  *  I  will  leave 
the  damsel  for  myself.'  Then  he  went  up  to  his  brother 
and  cutting  his  throat,  severed  his  head  from  his  body, 
after  which  he  left  him  and  went  away.  Therewithal 
the  world  was  straitened  upon  him  and  his  life  was  a 
light  matter  to  him  and  he  sought  his  father  Suleiman 
Shah's  lodging,  that  he  might  slay  him,  but  could  not 
win  to  him.  So  he  went  forth  from  the  palace  and  hid 
himself  in  the  city  till  the  morrow,  when  he  repaired  to 
one  of  his  father's  strengths  and  fortified  himself  therein. 

Meanwhile,  the  nurse  awoke,  that  she  might  give  the 
child  suck,  and  seeing  the  bed  running  with  blood,  cried 
out;  whereupon  the  sleepers  and  the  king  awoke  and 
making  for  the  place,  found  the  child  with  his  throat 
cut  and  the  cradle  running  over  with  blood  and  his 
lather  slain  and  dead  in  his  sleeping  chamber.  So  they 
examined  the  child  and  found  life  in  him  and  his  wind- 
pipe whole  and  sewed  up  the  place  of  the  wound.  Then 
the  king  sought  his  son  Belehwan,  but  found  him  not 
and  saw  that  he  had  fled ;  whereby  he  knew  that  it  was 
he  who  had  done  this  deed,  and  this  was  grievous  to 
the  king  and  to  the  people  of  his  realm  and  to  the  lady 
Shah  Katoun.  So  the  king  laid  out  his  son  Melik  Shah 
and  buried  him  and  made  him  a  mighty  hmeral  and  they 
mourned  passing  sore;  after  which  he  addressed  himself 
to  the  rearing  of  the  infant 

As  for  Belehwan,  when  he  fled  and  fortified  himself, 
his  power  waxed  amain  and  there  remained  for  him  but 
to  make  war  upon  his  father,  who  had  cast  his  affection 


153 

upon  the  child  and  used  to  rear  him  on  his  knees  and 
supplicate  God  the  Most  High  that  he  might  live,  so 
he  might  commit  the  commandment  to  him.  When  he 
came  to  five  years  of  age,  the  king  mounted  him  on 
horseback  and  the  people  of  the  city  rejoiced  in  him 
and  invoked  on  him  length  of  life,  so  he  might  take 
his  father's  leavings*  and  [heal]  the  heart  of  his  grand- 
father. 

Meanwhile,  Belehwan  the  froward  addressed  himself  to 
pay  court  to  Caesar,  King  of  the  Greeks,*  and  seek  help 
of  him  in  making  war  upon  his  father,  and  he  inclined 
unto  him  and  gave  him  a  numerous  army.  His  father 
the  king  heard  of  this  and  sent  to  Caesar,  saying,  *  O  king 
of  illustrious  might,  succour  not  an  evil-doer.  This  is  my 
son  and  he  hath  done  thus  and  thus  and  cut  his  brother's 
throat  and  that  of  his  brother's  son  in  the  cradle.'  But 
he  told  not  the  King  of  the  Greeks  that  the  child  [had 
recovered  and]  was  alive.  When  Caesar  heard  [the  truth] 
of  the  matter,  it  was  grievous  to  him  and  he  sent  back  to 
Suleiman  Shah,  saying,  *  If  it  be  thy  will,  O  king,  I  will 
cut  off  his  head  and  send  it  to  thee.'  But  he  made 
answer,  saying,  *  I  reck  not  of  him :  the  reward  of  his 
deed  and  his  crimes  shall  surely  overtake  him,  if  not 
tOHiay,  then  to-morrow.'  And  from  that  day  he  con- 
tinued to  correspond  with  Caesar  and  to  exchange  letters 
and  presents  with  him. 

*  i^,  heritage. 

■  i.e.  The  Emperor  of  the  Romans  of  the  Lower  Empire,  so  called  by 
the  Arabs.  "Caesar"  is  their  generic  term  for  the  Emperors  of  Con 
staatinople,  as  is  Kisra  (Chosroes)  for  the  ancient  Kings  of  Persia. 


154 

Now  the  king  of  the  Greeks  heard  tell  of  the  damsel' 
and  of  the  beauty  and  grace  wherewith  she  was  gifted, 
wherefore  his  heart  clave  to  her  and  he  sent  to  seek 
her  in  marriage  of  Suleiman  Shah,  who  could  not  refuse 
him.  So  he  arose  and  going  in  to  Shah  Khatoun,  said 
to  her,  '  O  my  daughter,  the  king  of  the  Greeks  hath  sent 
to  me  to  seek  thee  in  marriage.  What  sayst  thou?* 
She  wept  and  answered,  saying,  *  O  king,  how  canst 
thou  find  it  in  thy  heart  to  bespeak  me  thus?  Abideth 
there  husband  for  me,  after  the  son  of  my  uncle  ? '  *  O  my 
daughter,'  rejoined  the  king,  *  it  is  indeed  as  thou  sayest ; 
but  let  us  look  to  the  issues  of  affairs.  Needs  must  I  take 
account  of  death,  for  that  I  am  an  old  man  and  fear  not 
but  for  thee  and  for  thy  little  son;  and  indeed  I  have 
written  to  the  king  of  the  Greeks  and  others  of  the  kings 
and  said,  "His  uncle  slew  him,"  and  said  not  that  he 
[hath  recovered  and]  is  living,  but  concealed  his  affair. 
Now  hath  the  king  of  the  Greeks  sent  to  demand  thee 
in  marriage,  and  this  is  no  thing  to  be  refused  and  fain 
would  we  have  our  back  strengthened  with  him.'"  And 
she  was  silent  and  spoke  not 

So  King  Suleiman  Shah  made  answer  unto  Caesar  with 
•Hearkening  and  obedience.'  Then  he  arose  and  de- 
spatched her  to  him,  and  Caesar  went  in  to  her  and  found 
her  overpassing  the  description  wherewithal  they  had 
described  her  to  him;  wherefore  he  loved  her  with  an 
exceeding  love  and  preferred  her  over  all  his  women 
and  his  love  for  Suleiman  Shah  was  magnified;  but  Shah 

*  It.  Shah  Khatoun. 

*  i.e.  our  power  increased  bj  his  alliance,  a  familiar  Arab  idiom. 


155 

Khatoun'a  heart  still  clave  to  her  son  and  she  could 
say  nought.  As  for  Suleiman  Shah's  rebellious  son, 
Belehwan,  when  he  savir  that  Shah  Khatoun  had  married 
the  king  of  the  Greeks,  this  was  grievous  to  him  and 
he  despaired  of  her.  Meanwhile,  his  father  Suleiman 
Shah  kept  strait  watch  over  the  child  and  cherished  him 
and  named  him  Melik  Shah,  after  the  name  of  his  father. 
When  he  reached  the  age  of  ten,  he  made  the  folk  swear 
fealty  to  him  and  appointed  him  his  heir  apparent,  and 
after  some  days,  [the  hour  of]  the  old  king's  admission 
[to  the  mercy  of  God]  drew  near  and  he  died. 

Now  a  party  of  the  troops  had  banded  themselves 
together  for  Belehwan ;  so  they  sent  to  him  and  bringing 
him  privily,  went  in  to  the  little  Melik  Shah  and  seized 
him  and  seated  his  uncle  Belehwan  on  the  throne  of  the 
kingship.  Then  they  proclaimed  him  king  and  did 
homage  to  him  all,  saying,  'Verily,  we  desire  thee  and 
deliver  to  thee  the  throne  of  the  kingship ;  but  we  wish 
of  thee  that  thou  slay  not  thy  brother's  son,  for  that  on 
our  consciences  are  the  oaths  we  swore  to  his  father  and 
grandfather  and  the  covenants  we  made  with  them.'  So 
Belehwan  granted  them  this  and  imprisoned  the  boy  in  an 
undergroimd  dungeon  and  straitened  him.  Presently,  the 
heavy  news  reached  his  mother  and  this  was  grievous  to 
her;  but  she  could  not  speak  and  committed  her  affair 
to  God  the  Most  High,  daring  not  name  this  to  King 
Caesar  her  husband,  lest  she  should  make  her  uncle  King 
Suleiman  Shah  a  liar. 

So  Belehwan  the  froward  abode  king  in  his  father's 
room  and   his    affairs  prospered,  what  while  the  young 


156 

Melik  Shah  lay  in  the  underground  dungeon  four  full-told 
years,  till  his  charms  faded  and  his  favomr  changed.  When 
God  (extolled  be  His  perfection  and  exalted  be  He  I) 
willed  to  relieve  him  and  bring  him  forth  of  the  prison, 
Belehwan  sat  one  day  with  his  chief  officers  and  the 
grandees  of  his  state  and  discoursed  with  them  of  the 
story  of  King  Suleiman  Shah  and  what  was  in  his  heart 
Now  there  were  present  certain  viziers,  men  of  worth,  and 
they  said  to  him,  *  O  king,  verily  God  hath  been  bountiful 
unto  thee  and  hath  brought  thee  to  thy  wish,  so  that  thou 
art  become  king  in  thy  father's  stead  and  hast  gotten  thee 
that  which  thou  soughtest.  But,  as  for  this  boy,  there  is 
no  guilt  in  him,  for  that,  from  the  day  of  his  coming  into 
the  world,  he  hath  seen  neither  ease  nor  joyance,  and 
indeed  his  favour  is  faded  and  his  charms  changed  [with 
long  prison].  What  is  his  offence  that  he  should  merit 
this  punishment  ?  Indeed,  it  is  others  than  he  who  were 
to  blame,  and  God  hath  given  thee  the  victory  over  them, 
and  there  is  no  fault  in  this  poor  wight.'  Quoth  Belehwan, 
*  Indeed,  it  is  as  ye  say  ;  but  I  am  fearful  of  his  craft  and 
am  not  assured  from  his  mischief;  belike  the  most  part 
of  the  folk  will  incline  unto  him.'  *  O  king,'  answered 
they,  '  what  is  this  boy  and  what  power  hath  he  ?  If  thou 
fear  him,  send  him  to  one  of  the  frontiers.'  And  Belehwan 
said,  *  Ye  say  sooth  :  we  will  send  him  to  be  captain  over 
such  an  one  of  the  marches.' 

Now  over  against  the  place  in  question  was  a  host  of 
enemies,  hard  of  heart,  and  in  this  he  purposed  the  youth's 
slaughter.  So  he  bade  bring  him  forth  of  the  underground 
dungeon  and  caused  him  draw  near  to  him  and  saw  his 


157 

case.  Then  he  bestowed  on  him  a  dress  of  honour  and 
the  folk  rejoiced  in  this.  Moreover,  he  tied  him  an  ensigm 
and  giving  him  a  numerous  army,  despatched  him  to  the 
region  aforesaid,  whither  all  who  went  were  still  slain  or 
made  prisoners.  So  Melik  Shah  betook  himself  thither 
with  his  army  and  when  it  was  one  of  the  days,  behold,  the 
enemy  fell  in  upon  them  in  the  night ;  whereupon  some  of 
his  men  fled  and  the  rest  the  enemy  took ;  and  they  took 
Melik  Shah  also  and  cast  him  into  an  underground 
dungeon,  with  a  company  of  his  men.  There  he  abode 
a  whole  year  in  evil  plight,  whilst  his  fellows  mourned 
over  his  beauty  and  grace. 

Now  it  was  the  enemy's  wont,  at  every  year's  end,  to 
bring  forth  their  prisoners  and  cast  them  down  from  the 
top  of  the  citadel  to  the  bottom.  So  they  brought  them 
forth,  at  the  end  of  the  year,  and  cast  them  down,  and 
Melik  Shah  with  them.  However,  he  fell  upon  the  [other] 
men  and  the  earth  touched  him  not,  for  his  term  was 
[God-]guarded.  Now  those  that  were  cast  down  there 
were  slain  and  their  bodies  ceased  not  to  lie  there  till  the 
wild  beasts  ate  them  and  the  winds  dispersed  them.  Melik 
Shah  abode  cast  down  in  his  place,  aswoon,  all  that  day 
and  night,  and  when  he  recovered  and  found  himself 
whole,  he  thanked  God  the  Most  High  for  his  safety  [and 
rising,  fared  on  at  a  venture].  He  gave  not  over  walking, 
unknowing  whither  he  went  and  feeding  upon  the  leaves 
of  the  trees ;  and  by  day  he  hid  himself  whereas  he  might 
and  fared  on  all  his  night  at  hazard ;  and  thus  he  did  some 

'  In  token  of  deputation  of  authority,  a  ceremony  osaal  on  the  ap< 
pointment  of  a  governor  of  a  province. 


158 

da3rs,  till  he  came  to  an  inhabited  land  and  seeing  folk 
there,  accosted  them  and  acquainted  them  with  his  case, 
giving  them  to  know  that  he  had  been  imprisoned  in  the 
fortress  and  that  they  had  cast  him  down,  but  God  the 
Most  High  had  delivered  him  and  brought  him  oflf  alive. 

The  folk  took  compassion  on  him  and  gave  him  to 
eat  and  drink  and  he  abode  with  them  awhile.  Then  he 
questioned  them  of  the  way  that  led  to  the  kingdom  of  his 
uncle  Belehwan,  but  told  them  not  that  he  was  his  uncle. 
So  they  taught  him  the  way  and  he  ceased  not  to  go 
barefoot,  till  he  drew  near  his  uncle's  capital,  and  he 
naked  and  hungry,  and  indeed  his  body  was  wasted  and 
his  colour  changed.  He  sat  down  at  the  gate  of  the  city, 
and  presently  up  came  a  company  of  King  Beleliwan's 
chief  officers,  who  were  out  a-hunting  and  wished  to  water 
their  horses.  So  they  lighted  down  to  rest  and  the  youth 
accosted  them,  saying,  *  I  will  ask  you  of  somewhat,  where- 
with do  ye  acquaint  me.'  Quoth  they,  *Ask  what  thou 
wilt.'  And  he  said,  'Is  King  Belehwan  well?'  They 
laughed  at  him  and  answered,  'What  a  fool  art  thou,  O 
youth  1  Thou  art  a  stranger  and  a  beggar,  and  what 
concern  hast  thou  vrith  the  king's  health?'  Quoth  he, 
'Indeed,  he  is  my  uncle j'  whereat  they  marvelled  and 
said,  'It  was  one  question^  and  now  it  is  become  two.' 
Then  said  they  to  him,  'O  youth,  it  is  as  thou  wert 
mad.  Whence  pretendest  thou  to  kinship  with  the  king? 
Indeed,  we  know  not  that  he  hath  aught  of  kinsfolk, 
except  a  brother's  son,  who  was  prisoned  with  him,  and 
he  despatched  him  to  wage  war  upon  the  infidels,  so  that 
*  Or  enigauu 


159 

they  slew  him.'    *I  am  he,'  answered  Melik  Shah,  *and 
they  slew  me  not,  but  there  betided  me  this  and  that' 

They  knew  him  forthright  and  rising  to  him,  kissed  his 
bands  and  rejoiced  in  him  and  said  to  him,  '  O  our  lord, 
in  good  sooth,  thou  art  a  king  and  the  son  of  a  king,  and 
we  desire  thee  nought  but  good  and  beseech  [God  to 
grant]  thee  continuance.  Consider  how  God  hath  rescued 
thee  from  this  thy  wicked  uncle,  who  sent  thee  to  a  place 
whence  none  came  ever  oflf  alive,  purposing  not  in  this  but 
thy  destruction;  and  indeed  thou  fellest  into  [peril  of] 
death  and  God  delivered  thee  therefrom.  So  how  wilt 
thou  return  and  cast  thyself  again  into  thine  enemy's 
hand?  By  Allah,  save  thyself  and  return  not  to  him 
again.  Belike  thou  shalt  abide  upon  the  face  of  the 
earth  till  it  please  God  the  Most  High  [to  vouchsafe  thee 
relief] ;  but,  if  thou  fall  again  into  his  hand,  he  will  not 
suffer  thee  live  a  single  hour.* 

The  prince  thanked  them  and  said  to  them,  *God  re- 
quite you  with  all  good,  for  indeed  ye  give  me  loyal 
counsel;  but  whither  would  ye  have  me  go?*  Quoth 
they,  'Get  thee  to  the  land  of  the  Greeks,  the  abiding- 
place  of  thy  mother.'  And  he  said,  'My  grandfather 
Suleiman  Shah,  when  the  King  of  the  Greeks  wrote  to 
him,  demanding  my  mother  in  marriage,  concealed  my 
affair  and  hid  my  secret;  [and  she  hath  done  the  like,] 
and  I  cannot  make  her  a  liar.'  'Thou  sayst  sooth,'  re- 
joined they;  'but  we  desire  thine  advantage,  and  even 
if  thou  tookest  service  with  the  folk,  it  were  a  means  of 
thy  continuance  [on  life].'  Then  each  of  them  brought 
out  to  him  money  and  gave  to  him  and  clad  him  and  fed 


IGO 

him  and  fared  on  with  him  a  parasang's  distance  till  they 
brought  him  far  from  the  city,  and  giving  him  to  know 
that  he  was  safe,  departed  from  him,  whilst  he  fared  on 
till  he  came  forth  of  the  dominions  of  his  uncle  and 
entered  those  [of  the  king]  of  the  Greeks.  Then  he 
entered  a  village  and  taking  up  his  abode  therein,  betook 
himself  to  serving  one  there  in  ploughing  and  sowing  and 
the  like. 

As  for  his  mother,  Shah  Khatoun,  great  was  her  longing 
for  her  son  and  she  [still]  thought  of  him  and  news  of  him 
was  cut  off  from  her,  wherefore  her  life  was  troubled  and 
she  forswore  sleep  and  could  not  make  mention  of  him 
before  King  Caesar  her  husband.  Now  she  had  an  eunuch 
who  had  come  with  her  from  the  court  of  her  uncle  Ring 
Suleiman  Shah,  and  he  was  intelligent,  quickwitted,  a  man 
of  good  counsel  So  she  took  him  apart  one  day  and  said 
to  him,  'Thou  hast  been  my  servant  from  my  childhood 
to  this  day ;  canst  thou  not  therefore  avail  to  get  me  news 
of  my  son,  for  that  I  cannot  speak  of  his  matter?'  *0  my 
lady,'  answered  he,  'this  is  an  affair  that  thou  hast  con- 
cealed from  the  first,  and  were  thy  son  here,  it  would  not 
be  possible  for  thee  to  harbour  him,  lest  tbine  honour 
fall  into  suspicion  with  the  king;  for  they  would  never 
credit  thee,  since  the  news  hath  been  spread  abroad  that 
thy  son  was  slain  by  his  imcle.'  Quoth  she,  'The  case 
is  even  as  thou  sayst  and  thou  speakest  truly ;  but,  pro- 
vided I  know  that  my  son  is  alive,  let  him  be  in  these 
parts  pasturing  sheep  and  let  me  not  see  him  nor  he  me.* 
And  he  said  to  her,  *  How  shall  we  contrive  in  this  affair  ?  * 
'Here  are  my  treasures  and  my   wealth,'  answered  she. 


\y' 


-^-£^fXtLUA^    Pin. 


i6i 

•Takj  all  thou  wilt  and  bring  me  my  son  or  else  news 
of  him.' 

Then  they  agreed  upon  a  device  between  them,  to  wit, 
that  they  should  feign  an  occasion  in  their  own  country, 
under  pretext  that  she  had  there  wealth  buried  from  the 
time  of  her  husband  Melik  Shah  and  that  none  knew  of  it 
but  this  eunuch  who  was  with  her,  wherefore  it  behoved 
that  he  should  go  and  fetch  it  So  she  acquainted  the 
king  her  husband  with  this  and  sought  of  him  leave  for 
the  eunuch  to  go:  and  the  king  granted  him  permission 
for  the  journey  and  charged  him  cast  about  for  a  device, 
lest  any  get  wind  of  him.  Accordingly,  the  eunuch  dis- 
guised himself  as  a  merchant  and  repairing  to  Belehwan's 
city,  began  to  enquire  concerning  the  youth's  case ;  where- 
upon they  told  him  that  he  had  been  prisoned  in  an 
underground  dungeon  and  that  his  uncle  had  released 
him  and  dispatched  him  to  such  a  place,  where  they  had 
slain  him.  When  the  eunuch  heard  this,  it  was  grievous 
to  him  and  his  breast  was  straitened  and  he  knew  not 
what  he  should  do. 

It  chanced  one  day  that  one  of  the  horsemen,  who  had 
fallen  in  with  the  young  Melik  Shah  by  the  water  and  clad 
him  and  given  him  spending-money,  saw  the  eunuch  in 
the  city,  disguised  as  a  merchant,  and  recognizing  him, 
questioned  him  of  his  case  and  of  [the  reason  of]  his 
coming.  Quoth  he,  *I  come  to  sell  merchandise.'  And 
the  horseman  said,  *I  will  tell  thee  somewhat,  if  thou 
canst  keep  it  secret.'  *  It  is  well,'  answered  the  eunuch ; 
*what  is  it?'  And  the  other  said,  *We  met  the  king's 
son  Melik  Shah,  I  and  certain  of  the  Arabs  who  were  witl^ 

VOL.  I.  II 


1 62 

me,  and  saw  him  by  such  a  water  and  gave  him  spending- 
money  and  sent  him  towards  the  land  of  the  Greeks,  near 
his  mother^  for  that  we  feared  for  him,  lest  his  uncle 
Belehwan  should  kill  him.'  Then  he  told  him  all  that  had 
passed  between  them,  whereupon  the  eunuch's  counten- 
ance changed  and  he  said  to  the  cavaUer,  'Assurance!* 
*Thou  shalt  have  assurance,'  answered  the  other,  'though 
thou  come  in  quest  of  him,'  And  the  eunuch  rejoined, 
saying,  'Truly,  that  is  my  errand,  for  there  abideth  no 
repose  for  his  mother,  lying  down  or  rising  up,  and  she 
hath  sent  me  to  seek  news  of  him.*  Quoth  the  cavalier, 
*Go  in  safety,  for  he  is  in  a  [certain]  part  of  the  land  of 
the  Greeks,  even  as  I  said  to  thee.* 

The  eunuch  thanked  him  and  blessed  him  and  mount- 
ing, returned  upon  his  way,  following  the  trace,  whilst  the 
cavalier  rode  with  him  to  a  certain  road,  when  he  said  to 
him,  'This  is  where  we  left  him.'  Then  he  took  leave 
of  him  and  returned  to  his  own  city,  whilst  the  eunuch 
fored  on  along  the  road,  enquiring  of  the  youth  in  every 
village  he  entered  by  the  description  which  the  cavalier 
had  given  him,  and  he  ceased  not  to  do  thus  till  he  came 
to  the  village  where  the  young  Melik  Shah  was.  So  he 
entered  and  lighting  down  therein,  made  enquiry  after 
the  prince,  but  none  gave  him  news  of  him ;  whereat  he 
abode  perplexed  concerning  his  affair  and  addressed  him- 
self to  depart  Accordingly  he  mounted  his  horse  [and 
set  out  homeward] ;  but,  as  he  passed  through  the  village, 
he  saw  a  cow  bound  with  a  rope  and  a  youth  asleep  by 
her  side,  with  the  end  of  the  halter  in  his  hand;  so  he 
looked  at  him  and  passed  on  and  took  no  heed  of  him 


i63 

in  his  heart;  but  presently  he  stopped  and  said  in  him- 
selfi  *If  he  of  whom  I  am  in  quest  be  come  to  the  like 
[of  the  condition]  of  yonder  sleeping  youth,  by  whom  I 
passed  but  now,  how  shall  I  know  him  ?  Alas,  the  length 
of  my  travail  and  weariness !  How  shall  I  go  about  in 
quest  of  a  wight  whom  I  know  not  and  whom,  if  I  saw 
him  face  to  face,  I  should  not  know  ? ' 

Then  he  turned  back,  pondering  upon  that  sleeping 
youth,  and  coming  to  him,  as  he  slept,  lighted  down 
from  his  horse  and  sat  down  by  him.  He  fixed  his 
eyes  upon  his  face  and  considered  him  awhile  and  said 
in  himself  'For  aught  I  know,  this  youth  may  be  Melik 
Shah.'  And  he  fell  a-hemming  and  saying,  'Harkye, 
O  youth  1  *  Whereupon  the  sleeper  awoke  and  sat  up  j 
and  the  eunuch  said  to  him,  *  Who  is  thy  father  in 
this  village  and  where  is  thy  dwelling?'  The  youth 
sighed  and  answered,  'I  am  a  stranger;'  and  the  eunuch 
said,  'From  what  land  art  thou  and  who  is  thy  father?' 
Quoth  the  other,  'I  am  from  such  a  land,'  and  the 
eunuch  ceased  not  to  question  him  and  he  to  answer 
him,  till  he  was  certified  of  him  and  knew  him.  So 
he  rose  and  embraced  him  and  kissed  him  and  wept 
over  his  case.  Moreover,  he  told  him  that  he  was  going 
about  in  quest  of  him  and  informed  him  that  he  was 
come  privily  from  the  king  his  mother's  husband  and 
that  his  mother  would  be  content  [to  know]  that  he 
was  alive  and  well,  though  she  saw  him  not. 

Then  he  re-entered  the  village  and  buying  the  prince 
a  horse,  moimted  him  thereon  and  they  ceased  not  going, 
till  they  came  to  the  frontier  of  their  own  country,  where 


i64 

tiiere  feli  robbers  npon  them  by  the  way  and  took  all  that 
was  with  them  and  pinioned  them;  after  which  they  cast 
them  into  a  pit  hard  by  the  road  and  went  away  and  left 
them  to  die  there,  and  indeed  they  had  cast  many  folk 
into  that  pit  and  they  had  died. 

The  eunuch  fell  a-weeping  in  the  pit  and  the  jrouth  said 
to  him,  'What  is  this  weeping  and  what  shall  it  profit 
here  ? '  Quoth  the  eunuch,  *  I  weep  not  for  fear  of  death, 
but  of  pity  for  thee  and  the  sorriness  of  thy  case  and 
because  of  thy  mother's  heart  and  for  that  which  thou 
hast  suffered  of  horrors  and  that  thy  death  should  be  this 
abject  death,  after  the  endurance  of  ^H  manner  stresses.' 
But  the  youth  said,  'That  which  hath  betided  me  was 
forewrit  to  me  and  that  which  is  written  none  hath  power 
to  efface ;  and  if  my  term  be  advanced,  none  may  avail  to 
defer  it'  *  Then  they  passed  that  night  and  the  following 
day  and  the  next  night  and  the  next  day  [in  the  pit],  till 
they  were  weak  with  hunger  and  came  near  upon  death 
and  could  but  groan  feebly. 

Now  it  befell,  by  the  ordinance  of  God  the  Most  High 
and  His  providence,  that  Caesar,  king  of  the  Greeks,  the 
husband  of  Melik  Shah's  mother  Shah  Khatoun,  [went 
forth  to  the  chase  that  day].  He  started  a  head  of  game, 
he  and  his  company,  and  chased  it,  till  they  came  up  with 
it  by  that  pit,  whereupon  one  of  them  lighted  down  from 
his  horse,  to  slaughter  it,  hard  by  the  mouth  of  the  pit. 
He  heard  a  sound  of  low  moaning  from  the  bottom  of  the 
pit;  so  he  arose  and  mounting  his  horse,  waited  till  the 

^  ii.it  my  death  be  ordained  of  destiny  to  befall  <n  an  early  day, 
:  may  avail  to  postpone  it  to  a  later  daj. 


16$ 

troopj  were  assembled.  Then  he  acquainted  the  king 
with  this  and  he  bade  one  of  his  servants  [descend  into 
the  pit].  So  the  man  descended  and  brought  oat  the 
youth  [and  the  eunuch],  aswoon. 

They  cut  their  bonds  and  poured  wine  into  their  gullets, 
till  they  came  to  themselves,  when  the  king  looked  at  the 
eunuch  and  recognizing  him,  said,  *Harkye,  such  an  one  I' 
*  Yes,  O  my  lord  the  king,'  replied  the  man  and  prostrated 
himself  to  him;  whereat  the  king  marvelled  with  an 
exceeding  wonder  and  said  to  him,  *  How  earnest  thou 
to  this  place  and  what  hath  befallen  thee?"  Quoth  the 
eunuch,  *I  went  and  took  out  the  treasure  and  brought 
it  hither;  but  the  [evil]  eye  was  behind  me  and  I 
unknowing.  So  the  thieves  took  us  alone  here  and 
seized  the  money  and  cast  us  into  this  pit,  so  we  might 
die  of  hunger,  even  as  they  had  done  with  other  than 
we  J  but  God  the  Most  High  sent  thee,  in  pity  to  us.' 

The  king  marvelled,  he  and  his  company,  and  praised 
God  the  Most  High  for  that  he  had  come  thither;  after 
which  he  turned  to  the  eunuch  and  said  to  him,  'What 
is  this  youth  thou  hast  with  thee?'  'O  king,'  answered 
he,  *  this  is  the  son  of  a  nurse  who  belonged  to  us  and 
we  left  him  little.  I  saw  him  to-day  and  his  mother 
said  to  me,  'Take  him  with  thee.'  So  I  brought  him 
with  me,  that  he  might  be  a  servant  to  the  king,  for 
that  he  is  an  adroit  and  quickwitted  youth.'  Then  the 
king  fared  on,  he  and  his  company,  and  the  eunuch  and 
the  youth  with  them,  what  while  he  questioned  the  former 
of  Belehwan  and  his  dealing  with  his  subjects,  and  he 
answered,  saying,  *As  thy  head  liveth,  O  king,  the  folk 


i66 

with  him  are  in  sore  straits  and  not  one  of  them  desireth 
to  look  on  him,  gentle  or  simple.' 

[When  the  king  returned  to  his  palace,]  he  went  in  to 
his  wife  Shah  Khatomi  and  said  to  her,  '  I  give  thee  the 
glad  news  of  thine  eunuch's  return,'  And  he  told  her 
what  had  betided  and  of  the  youth  whom  he  had  brought 
with  him.  When  she  heard  this,  her  wits  fled  and  she 
would  have  cried  out,  but  her  reason  restrained  her,  and 
the  king  said  to  her,  *  What  is  this  ?  Art  thou  overcome 
with  grief  for  [the  loss  of]  the  treasure  or  [for  that  which 
hath  befallen]  the  eunuch?'  'Nay,  as  thy  head  liveth, 
O  king  I '  answered  she.  *  But  women  are  fainthearted.' 
Then  came  the  servant  and  going  in  to  her,  told  her  all 
that  had  befallen  him  and  acquainted  her  with  her  son's 
case  also  and  with  that  which  he  had  suffered  of  stresses 
and  how  his  uncle  had  exposed  him  to  slaughter  and  he 
had  been  taken  prisoner  and  they  had  cast  him  into  the 
pit  and  hurled  him  from  the  top  of  the  citadel  and  how 
Grod  had  delivered  him  from  these  perils,  all  of  them ;  and 
he  went  on  to  tell  her  [all  that  had  betided  him],  whilst 
she  wept 

Then  said  she  to  him,  'When  the  king  saw  him  and 
questioned  thee  of  him,  what  saidst  thou  to  him  ? '  And 
he  answered,  '  I  said  to  him,  "  This  is  the  son  of  a  nurse 
who  belonged  to  us.  We  left  him  little  and  he  grew  up ; 
so  I  brought  him,  that  he  might  be  servant  to  the  king." ' 
Quoth  she,  '  Thou  didst  well.'  And  she  charged  him  to 
be  instant  in  the  service  of  the  prince.  As  for  the  king, 
he  redoubled  in  kindness  to  the  eunuch  and  appointed  the 
youth  a  liberal  allowance  and  he  abode  going  in  to  the 


1 67 

king's  house  and  coming  out  therefrom  and  standing  in 
his  service,  and  every  day  he  grew  in  favour  with  him; 
whilst,  as  for  Shah  Khatoun,  she  used  to  stand  a-watch 
for  him  at  the  windows  and  balconies  and  gaze  upon  him, 
and  she  on  coals  of  fire  on  his  account,  yet  could  she  not 
speak. 

On  this  wise  she  abode  a  great  while  and  indeed 
yearning  for  him  came  nigh  to  slay  her;  so  she  stood 
and  watched  for  him  one  day  at  the  door  of  her  chamber 
and  straining  him  to  her  bosom,  kissed  him  on  the  cheek 
and  breast  At  this  moment,  out  came  the  master  of  the 
king's  household  and  seeing  her  embracing  the  youth, 
abode  amazed.  Then  he  asked  to  whom  that  chamber 
belonged  and  was  answered,  'To  Shah  Khatoun,  wife  of 
the  king,'  whereupon  he  turned  back,  trembling  as  [one 
smitten  by]  a  thunderbolt.  The  king  saw  him  quaking 
and  said  to  him,  '  Out  on  thee  1  what  is  the  matter  ?  *  *  O 
king,'  answered  he,  *  what  matter  is  graver  than  that  which 
I  see  ? '  *  What  seest  thou  ? '  asked  the  king  and  the 
officer  said,  *  I  see  that  yonder  youth,  who  came  with  the 
eunuch,  he  brought  not  with  him  but  on  account  of  Shah 
Khatoim  ;  for  that  I  passed  but  now  by  her  chamber  door, 
and  she  was  standing,  watching ;  [and  when  the  youth 
came  up,]  she  rose  to  him  and  clipped  him  and  kissed 
him  on  his  cheek.' 

When  the  king  heard  this,  he  bowed  [his  head]  in 
amazement  and  perplexity  and  sinking  into  a  seat,  clutched 
at  his  beard  and  shook  it,  till  he  came  nigh  to  pluck  it 
out.  Then  he  arose  forthright  and  laid  hands  on  the 
youth  and  clapped  him  in  prison.     Moreover,  he  took  the 


i68 

eunuch  also  and  cast  them  both  into  an  underground 
dungeon  in  his  house,  after  which  he  went  in  to  Shah 
Khatoun  and  said  to  her,  '  Thou  hast  done  well,  by  Allah, 
O  daughter  of  nobles,  O  thou  whom  kings  sought  in 
marriage,  for  the  excellence  of  thy  repute  and  the  good- 
liness  of  the  reports  of  thee !  How  fair  is  thy  semblance  1 
May  God  curse  her  whose  inward  is  the  contrary  of  her 
outward,  after  the  likeness  of  thy  base  favour,  whose  out- 
ward is  comely  and  its  inward  foul,  fair  face  and  foul 
deeds!  Verily,  I  mean  to  make  of  thee  and  of  yonder 
good-for-nought  an  example  among  the  folk,  for  that 
thou  sentest  not  thine  eunuch  but  of  intent  on  his 
account,  so  that  he  took  him  and  brought  him  into  my 
house  and  thou  hast  trampled  my  head  with  him  ;  and 
this  is  none  other  than  exceeding  hardihood]  but  thoa 
shall  see  what  I  will  do  with  you.' 

So  saying,  he  spat  in  her  face  and  went  out  from  her ; 
whilst  Shah  Khatoun  made  him  no  answer,  knowing  that, 
if  she  spoke  at  that  time,  he  would  not  credit  her  speech. 
Then  she  humbled  herself  in  supplication  to  God  the 
Most  High  and  said,  *0  God  the  Great,  Thou  knowest 
the  hidden  things  and  the  outward  parts  and  the  inward  I 
If  an  advanced  term^  be  [appointed]  to  me,  let  it  not  be 
deferred,  and  if  a  deferred  one,  let  it  not  be  advanced !  * 
On  this  wise  she  passed  some  days,  whilst  the  king  fell 
into  perplexity  and  forswore  meat  and  drink  and  sleep 
and  abode  knowing  not  what  he  should  do  and  saying 
[in  himself],  'If  I  kill  the  eunuch  and  the  youth,  my 
soul  will  not  be  solaced,  for  they  are  not  to  blame,  seeing 
^  Of  life.     See  supra,  note,  p.  147. 


1 69 

diat  she  sent  to  fetch  him,  and  my  heart  will  not  suffei 
me  to  slay  them  all  three.  But  I  will  not  be  hasty  in 
putting  them  to  death,  for  that  I  fear  repentance.'  Then 
he  left  them,  so  he  might  look  into  the  affair. 

Now  he  had  a  nurse,  a  foster-mother,  on  whose  knees 
he  had  been  reared,  and  she  was  a  woman  of  understand- 
ing and  misdoubted  of  him,  but  dared  not  accost  him 
[with  questions].  So  she  went  in  to  Shah  Khatoun  and 
finding  her  in  yet  sorrier  plight  than  he,  asked  her  what 
was  to  do;  but  she  refused  to  answer.  However,  the 
nurse  gave  not  over  coaxing  and  questioning  her,  till  she 
exacted  of  her  an  oath  of  secrecy.  So  the  old  woman 
swore  to  her  that  she  would  keep  secret  all  that  she 
should  say  to  her,  whereupon  the  queen  related  to  her 
her  history  from  first  to  last  and  told  her  that  the  youth 
was  her  son.  With  this  the  old  woman  prostrated  herself 
before  her  and  said  to  her,  '  This  is  an  easy  matter.*  But 
the  queen  answered,  saying,  *  By  Allah,  O  my  mother,  I 
choose  my  destruction  and  that  of  my  son  rather  than 
defend  myself  by  avouching  a  thing  whereof  they  will 
not  credit  me ;  for  they  will  say,  "  She  avoucheth  this, 
but  that  she  may  fend  off  reproach  from  herselt"  And 
nought  will  avail  me  but  patience.'  The  old  woman  was 
moved  by  her  speech  and  her  intelligence  and  said  to  her, 
•Indeed,  O  my  daughter,  it  is  as  thou  sayst,  and  I  hope 
in  God  that  He  will  show  forth  the  truth.  Have  patience 
and  I  will  presently  go  in  to  the  king  and  hear  what  he 
saith  and  contrive  somewhat  in  this  matter,  if  it  be  the 
will  of  God  the  Most  High.' 

Then  she  arose  and  going  in  to  the  king,  found  him 


170 

with  his  head  between  his  knees,  and  he  lamenting.  So 
she  sat  down  by  him  awhile  and  bespoke  him  with  soft 
words  and  said  to  him,  *  Indeed,  O  my  son,  thou  con- 
sumest  mine  entrails,  for  that  these  [many]  days  thou 
hast  not  mounted  to  horse,  and  thoa  lametitest  and  I 
know  not  what  aileth  thee.'  'O  my  mother,'  answered 
he,  '  [this  my  chagrin]  is  due  to  yonder  accursed  woman, 
of  whom  I  still  deemed  well  and  who  hath  done  thus 
and  thus.'  Then  he  related  to  her  the  whole  story  from 
first  to  last,  and  she  said  to  him,  *  This  thy  concern  is  on 
account  of  a  worthless  woman.'  Quoth  he,  *I  was  but 
considering  by  what  death  I  should  slay  them,  so  the 
folk  may  [be  admonished  by  their  fate  and]  repent.'  And 
she  said,  '  O  my  son,  beware  of  haste,  for  it  engendereth 
repentance  and  the  slaying  of  them  will  not  escape  [thee]. 
When  thou  art  assured  of  tliis  aflair,  do  what  thou  wilt' 
*0  my  mother,*  rejoined  he;  'there  needeth no  assurance 
concerning  him  for  whom  she  despatched  her  eunuch  and 
he  fetched  him.' 

But  she  said,  '  There  is  a  thing  wherewith  we  will  make 
her  confess,  and  all  that  is  in  her  heart  shall  be  dis- 
covered to  thee.'  'What  is  that?'  asked  the  king,  and 
she  answered,  '  I  will  bring  thee  a  hoopoe's  heart,  *  which, 
when  she  sleepeth,  do  thou  lay  upon  her  heart  and  ques- 
tion her  of  all  thou  wilt,  and  she  will  discover  this  unto 
thee  and  show  forth  the  truth  to  thee."    The  king  rejoiced 

*  The  hoopoe  is  fabled  by  the  Muslim  chroniclers  to  have  been  to 
Solomon  what  Odin's  ravens  were  to  the  Norse  god.  It  is  said  to  have 
known  all  the  secrets  of  the  earth  and  to  have  revealed  them  to  him ) 
hence  the  magical  virtues  attributed  by  the  Mohammedans  to  its  heait 


171 

in  this  and  said  to  his  nurse,  *  Hasten  and  let  none  know 
of  thee/  So  she  arose  and  going  in  to  the  queen,  said 
to  her,  *  I  have  done  thine  occasion  and  it  is  on  this  wise. 
This  night  the  king  will  come  in  to  thee  and  do  thou 
feign  thyself  asleep ;  and  if  he  ask  thee  of  aught,  do  thou 
answer  him,  as  if  in  thy  sleep.*  The  queen  thanked  her 
and  the  old  woman  went  away  and  fetching  the  hoopoe's 
heart,  gave  it  to  the  king. 

Hardly  was  the  night  come,  when  he  went  in  to  his 
wife  and  found  her  lying  back,  [apparently]  asleep;  so 
he  sat  down  by  her  side  and  laying  the  hoopoe's  heart 
on  her  breast,  waited  awhile,  so  he  might  be  certified 
that  she  slept.  Then  said  he  to  her,  'Shah  Khatoun, 
Shah  Khatoun,  is  this  my  recompense  from  thee  ?  *  Quoth 
she,  *  What  oflFence  have  I  committed  ? '  And  he,  *  What 
offence  can  be  greater  than  this?  Thou  sentest  after 
yonder  youth  and  broughtest  him  hither,  on  account  of 
the  desire  of  thy  heart,  so  thou  mightest  do  with  him 
that  for  which  thou  lustedst.'  *  I  know  not  desire/ 
answered  she.  'Verily,  among  thy  servants  are  those 
who  are  comelier  and  handsomer  than  he;  yet  have  I 
never  desired  one  of  them.'  *  Why,  then,'  asked  he,  *  didst 
thou  lay  hold  of  him  and  kiss  him !  *  And  she  said,  '  This 
is  my  son  and  a  piece  of  my  heart ;  and  of  my  longing 
and  love  for  him,  I  could  not  contain  myself,  but  sprang 
upon  him  and  kissed  him.*  When  the  king  heard  this, 
he  was  perplexed  and  amazed  and  said  to  her,  *  Hast 
thou  a  proof  that  this  youth  is  thy  son  ?  Indeed,  I  have 
a  letter  from  thine  uncle  King  Suleiman  Shah,  [wherein 
he  giveth  me  to  know]  that  his  uncle  Belehwan  cut  hit 


172 

throat/  'Yes,'  answered  she,  *he  did  indeed  cat  his 
throat,  but  severed  not  the  windpipe ;  so  my  uncle  sewed 
op  the  wound  and  reared  him,  [and  he  lived,]  for  that  his 
hour  was  not  come.' 

When  the  king  heard  this,  he  said,  'This  proof  sufficeth 
me,'  and  rising  forthright  in  the  night,  let  bring  the  youth 
and  the  eunuch.  Then  he  examined  the  former's  throat 
with  a  candle  and  saw  [the  scar  where]  it  [had  been]  cut 
from  ear  to  ear,  and  indeed  the  place  had  healed  up 
and  it  was  like  unto  a  stretched-out  thread.  Therewithal 
the  king  fell  down  prostrate  to  God,  [in  thanksgiving  to 
Him]  for  that  He  had  delivered  the  prince  from  all  these 
perils  and  from  the  stresses  that  he  had  undergone  and 
rejoiced  with  an  exceeding  joy  for  that  he  had  wrought 
deliberately  and  had  not  made  haste  to  slay  him,  in  which 
case  sore  repentance  had  betided  him.  As  for  the  youth," 
continued  the  young  treasurer,  "he  was  not  saved  but 
because  his  term  was  deferred,  and  on  like  wise,  O 
king,  is  it  with  me ;  I  too  have  a  deferred  term,  which 
I  shall  attain,  and  a  period  which  I  shall  accomplish,  and 
I  trust  in  God  the  Most  High  that  He  will  give  me  the 
victory  over  these  wicked  viziers." 

When  the  youth  had  made  an  end  of  his  speech,  the 
king  said,  "Carry  him  back  to  the  prison;"  and  when 
they  had  done  this,  he  turned  to  the  viziers  and  said  to 
them,  "  Yonder  youth  looseth  his  tongue  upon  you,  but  I 
know  your  aflfectionate  solicitude  for  the  welfare  of  my 
empire  and  your  loyal  counsel  to  me ;  so  be  of  good  heart, 
for  all  that  ye  counsel  me  I  will  do."  When  they  heard 
tnese  words,  they  rejoiced  and  each  of  them  said  his  say 


173 

Thtn  said  the  king,  **I  have  not  deferred  his  slanghter 
but  to  the  intent  that  the  talk  might  be  prolonged  and  that 
words  might  abound,  and  I  desire  [now]  that  ye  sit  up  for 
him  a  gibbet  without  the  town  and  make  proclamation 
among  the  folk  that  they  assemble  and  take  him  and  carry 
him  in  procession  to  the  gibbet,  with  the  crier  crying 
before  him  and  saying,  *This  is  the  recompense  of  him 
whom  the  king  delighted  to  favour  and  who  hath  betrayed 
himl***  The  viziers  rejoiced,  when  they  heard  this,  and 
slept  not  that  night,  of  their  joy ;  and  they  made  procla- 
QiatioD  in  the  dty  and  set  up  the  gibbet 


OF  THE  SPEEDY  RELIEF  OF  GOD. 

When  it  was  the  eleventh  day,  the  viziers  betook  them 
early  in  the  morning  to  the  king's  gate  and  said  to  him, 
"O  king,  the  folk  are  assembled  from  the  king's  gate 
to  the  gibbet,  so  they  may  see  [the  execution  ofj  the 
king's  commandment  on  the  youth."  So  the  king  bade 
fetch  the  prisoner  and  they  brought  him;  whereupon  the 
viziers  turned  to  him  and  said  to  him,  **  O  vile  of  origin, 
doth  any  hope  of  life  remain  with  thee  and  lookest  thou 
still  for  deliverance  after  this  day?"  "O  wicked  viziers,** 
answered  he,  "  shall  a  man  of  understanding  renounce 
hope  in  God  the  Most  High  ?  Indeed,  howsoever  a  man 
be  oppressed,  there  cometh  to  him  deliverance  from  the 
midst  of  stress  and  life  from  the  midst  of  death,  [as  is 
shown  by  the  case  of]  the  prisoner  and  how  God  delivered 
hioL"  '^What  is  his  story?"  asked  the  king;  and  the 
youth  answered,  saying,  "  O  king,  they  tell  that 

STORY  OF  THE  PRISONER  AND  HOW  GOD 
GAVE  HIM  RELIEF. 

There  was  once  a  king  of  the  kings,  who  had  a  high 
palace,  overlooking  a  prison  of  his,  and  he  used  to  hear 
in  the  night  one  saying,  'O  Ever-present  Deliverer,  O 
Thou  whose  relief  is  nigh,  relieve  Thou  me  1 '    One  day 


175 

tiie  king  waxed  wroth  and  said,  "Yonder  fool  looketh 
for  relief  from  [the  consequences  of  J  his  crime.*  Then 
said  he  to  his  officers,  '  Who  is  in  yonder  prison  ? '  And 
they  answered,  '  Folk  upon  whom  blood  hath  been  found.' ' 
So  the  king  bade  bring  the  man  in  question  before  him 
and  said  to  him,  *  O  fool,  little  of  wit,  how  shalt  thou  be 
delivered  from  this  prison,  seeing  that  thine  ofifence  is 
great?'  Then  he  committed  him  to  a  company  of  his 
guards  and  said  to  them,  'Take  this  fellow  and  crucify 
him  without  the  city.' 

Now  it  was  the  night- season.  So  the  soldiers  carried 
him  without  the  city,  thinking  to  crucify  him,  when, 
behold,  there  came  out  upon  them  thieves  and  fell  in 
on  them  with  swords  and  [other]  weapons.  Thereupon 
the  guards  left  him  whom  they  purposed  to  put  to  death 
[and  took  to  flight],  whilst  the  man  who  was  going  to 
slaughter  fled  forth  at  a  venture  and  plunging  into  the 
desert,  knew  not  whither  he  went  before  he  found  himself 
in  a  thicket  and  there  came  out  upon  him  a  lion  of 
frightful  aspect,  which  snatched  him  up  and  set  him  under 
him.  Then  he  went  up  to  a  tree  and  tearing  it  up  by 
the  roots,  covered  the  man  therewith  and  made  off  into 
the  thicket,  in  quest  of  the  lioness. 

As  for  the  man,  he  committed  his  aflfair  to  God  the 
Most  High,  relying  upon  Him  for  deliverance,  and  said 
in  himself,  *  What  is  this  affair  ?  *  Then  he  did  away  the 
leaves  from  himself  and  rising,  saw  great  plenty  of  men's 
bones  there,  of  those  whom  the  lion  had  devoured.     He 

^  This  phrase  may  be  read  either  literally  or  in  its  idiomatic  sense,  id* 
•*  Folk  convicted  or  suspected  of  murder  or  complicity  in  murder." 


170 

looked  again  and  saw  a  heap  of  gold  l3ring  alongside 
a  girdle;^  whereat  he  marvelled  and  gathering  up  the 
gold  in  his  skirts,  went  forth  of  the  thicket  and  fled  in 
afiright  at  hazard,  turning  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the 
lefl,  in  his  fear  of  the  lion ;  till  he  came  to  a  village  and 
cast  himself  down,  as  he  were  dead.  He  lay  there  till 
the  day  appeared  and  he  was  rested  from  his  fatigue, 
when  he  arose  and  burying  the  gold,  entered  the  village. 
Thus  God  gave  him  relief  and  he  came  by  the  gold." 

Then  said  the  king,  "  How  long  wilt  thou  beguile  us 
with  thy  prate,  O  youth?  But  now  the  hour  of  thy 
slaughter  is  come."  And  he  bade  crucify  him  upon  the 
gibbet.  [So  they  carried  him  to  the  place  of  execution] 
and  were  about  to  hoist  him  up  [upon  the  cross,]  when, 
behold,  the  captain  of  the  thieves,  who  had  found  him 
and  reared  him,*  came  up  at  that  moment  and  asked  what 
was  that  assembly  and  [the  cause  o(]  the  crowds  gathered 
there.  They  told  him  that  a  servant  of  the  king  had  com- 
mitted a  great  crime  and  that  he  was  about  to  put  him  to 
death.  So  the  captain  of  the  thieves  pressed  forward  and 
looking  upon  the  prisoner,  knew  him,  whereupon  he  went 
up  to  him  and  embraced  him  and  clipped  him  and  fell  to 
kissing  him  upon  his  mouth.  Then  said  he,  ''This  is  a 
boy  whom  I  found  under  such  a  mountain,  wrapped  in  a 
gown  of  brocade,  and  I  reared  him  and  he  fell  to  stopping 
the  way  with  us.  One  day,  we  set  upon  a  caravan,  but 
they  put  us  to  flight  and  wounded  some  of  us  and  tr>ok  the 
boy  and  went  their  way.    From  that  day  to  this  I  have 


*  Or  purse-belt. 

*  See  supra,  p.  66. 


177 

gone  round  about  the  lands  in  quest  of  him,  but  have  not 
lighted  on  news  of  him  [till  now ;]  and  this  is  he." 

When  the  king  heard  this,  he  was  certified  that  the 
youth  was  his  very  son ;  so  he  cried  out  at  the  top  of  his 
voice  and  casting  himself  upon  him,  embraced  him  and 
wept  and  said,  "  Had  I  put  thee  to  death,  as  was  my 
intent,  I  should  have  died  of  regret  for  thee."  Then  he 
cut  his  bonds  and  taking  his  crown  from  his  head,  set  it 
on  that  of  his  son,  whereupon  the  people  raised  cries  of 
joy,  whilst  the  trumpets  sounded  and  the  drums  beat  and 
there  befell  a  great  rejoicing.  They  decorated  the  city 
and  it  was  a  glorious  day;  the  very  birds  stayed  their 
flight  in  the  air,  for  the  greatness  of  the  clamour  and  the 
noise  of  the  crying.  The  army  and  the  folk  carried  the 
prince  [to  the  palace]  in  magnificent  procession,  and  the 
Qf'ws  came  to  his  mother  Behrjaur,  who  came  forth  and 
threw  herself  upon  him.  Moreover,  the  king  bade  open 
the  prison  and  bring  forth  all  who  were  therein,  and 
they  held  high  festival  seven  days  and  seven  nights  and 
rejoiced  with  a  mighty  rejoicing ;  whilst  terror  and  silence 
and  confusion  and  affright  fell  upon  the  viziers  and  they 
gave  themselves  up  for  lost 

After  this  the  king  sat,  with  his  son  by  his  side  and  the 
viziers  sitting  before  him,  and  summoned  his  chief  officers 
and  the  folk  of  the  city,  Then  the  prince  turned  to  the 
viziers  and  said  to  them,  "See,  O  wicked  viziers,  that 
which  God  hath  done  and  the  speedy  [coming  of]  relief." 
But  they  answered  not  a  word  and  the  king  said,  **  It 
sufficeth  me  that  there  is  nothing  alive  but  rejoiceth  with 
me  this  day,  even  to  the  birds  in  the  sky,  but  ye,  yout 
VOL.  I.  la 


178 

breasts  are  straitened.  Indeed,  this  is  the  greatest  of  itt* 
will  in  you  to  me,  and  had  I  hearkened  to  you,  my  regret 
had  been  prolonged  and  I  had  died  miserably  of  griet" 
"  O  my  father,"  quoth  the  prince,  "  but  for  the  fairness  of 
thy  thought  and  thy  judgment  and  thy  longanimity  and 
deliberation  in  affairs,  there  had  not  betided  thee  this 
great  joyance.  Hadst  thou  slain  me  in  haste,  repentance 
would  have  been  sore  on  thee  and  long  grie^  and  on  this 
wise  doth  he  who  ensueth  haste  repent." 

Then  the  king  sent  for  the  captain  of  the  thieves  and 
bestowed  on  him  a  dress  of  honour,^  commanding  that  all 
who  loved  the  king  should  put  off  [their  raiment  and  cast 
it]  upon  him.*  So  there  fell  dresses  of  honour  [and  other 
presents]  on  him,  till  he  was  wearied  with  their  much 
plenty,  and  Azadbekht  invested  him  with  the  mastership 
of  the  police  of  his  city.  Then  he  bade  set  up  other  nine 
gibbets  beside  the  first  and  said  to  his  son,  "Thou  art 
guiltless,  and  yet  these  wicked  viziers  endeavoured  for  thy 
slaughter.**  "O  my  father,"  answered  the  prince,  "I  had 
no  fault  [in  their  eyes]  but  that  I  was  a  loyal  coimsellor  to 
thee  and  still  kept  watch  over  thy  good  and  withheld  their 

*  Khilaah^  lit.  that  which  one  takes  oflf  from  one's  own  person,  to 
bestow  upon  a  messenger  of  good  tidmgs  or  any  other  whom  it  b  desired 
especially  to  honour.  The  literal  meaning  of  the  phrase,  here  rendered 
"he  bestowed  on  him  a  dress  of  honour,"  is  "  he  put  oflf  on  him 
[that  which  was  upon  himself]."  A  Khilaah  commonly  includes  a 
horse,  a  sword,  a  girdle  or  waist-cloth  and  other  articles,  according  to 
the  rank  of  the  recipient,  and  might  more  precisely  be  termed  "  a  com- 
plete equipment  of  honour." 

*  An  economical  mode  of  rewarding  merit,  much  in  favour  with 
Eastern  monarch*. 


179 

hands  from  thy  treasuries;  wherefore  they  were  jealous 
and  envied  me  and  plotted  against  me  and  sought  to  slay 
me."  Quoth  the  king,  "The  time  [of  retribution]  is  at 
hand,  O  my  son;  but  what  deemest  thou  we  should  do 
with  them  in  requital  of  that  which  they  did  with  thee? 
For  that  they  have  endeavoured  for  thy  slaughter  and 
exposed  thee  to  public  ignominy  and  soiled  my  honour 
among  the  kings." 

Then  he  turned  to  the  viziers  and  said  to  them,  "  Out 
on  ye  I  What  liars  ye  are  1  What  excuse  is  left  you  ? " 
"O  king,"  answered  they,  "there  abideth  no  excuse  for 
us  and  our  sin  hath  fallen  upon  us  and  broken  us  in  pieces. 
Indeed  we  purposed  evil  to  this  youth  and  it  hath  reverted 
upon  us,  and  we  plotted  mischief  against  him  and  it  hath 
overtaken  us;  yea,  we  digged  a  pit  for  him  and  have 
fallen  ourselves  therein."  So  the  king  bade  hoist  up  the 
viziers  upon  the  gibbets  and  crucify  them  there,  for  that 
God  is  just  and  ordaineth  that  which  is  right  Then 
Azadbekht  and  his  wife  and  son  abode  in  joyance  and  con- 
tentment, till  there  came  to  them  the  Destroyer  of  Delights 
and  they  died  all;  and  extolled  be  the  perfection  of  the 
[Ever-]Living  One,  who  dieth  not,  to  whom  be  glory  and 
whose  mercy  be  upon  us  for  ever  and  ever  I    Amen. 


JAAFER  BEN  YEHYA  AND  AB- 
DULMELIK  BEN  SALIH  THE 
ABBASIDE. 


JAAFER  BEN  YEHYA  AND  ABDULMELIK   BEN 
SALIH  THE  ABBASIDE.* 

It  is  told  of  Jaafer  ben  Yehya  the  Barmecide  that  he 
sat  down  one  day  to  drink  and  being  minded  to  be 
private  (with  his  friends),  sent  for  his  boon-companions, 
in  whom  he  delighted,  and  charged  the  chamberlain*  that 
he  should  suffer  none  of  the  creatures  of  God  the  Most 
High  to  enter,  save  a  man  of  his  boon-companions,  by 
name  Abdulmelik  ben  Salih,'  who  was  behindhand  with 
them.  Then  they  donned  coloured  clothes,*  for  that  it 
was  their  wont,  whenas  they  sat  in  the  wine-chamber,  to 
don  raiment  of  red  and  yellow  and  green  silk,  and  sat 
down  to  drink,  and  the  cups  went  round  and  the  lutes 
pulsed. 

Now  there  was  a  man  of  the  kinsfolk  of  the  Khalif 
[Haroun    er    Reshid],    by  name   Abdulmelik    ben  Salih 

*  Breslan  Text,  voL  viL  pp.  251-4,  Night  dlxr. 
■  Syn.  doorkeper  {kajib). 

*  Ibn  Khellikan,  who  tells  this  story  in  a  somewhat  different  style,  on 
the  authority  of  Er  Reshid's  brother  Ibrahim  ben  El  Mehdi,  calls  the 
person  whom  Jaafer  expected  "  Abdulmelik  ben  Behran,  the  intendant 
of  his  demesnes." 

*  The  wearing  of  silk  and  bright  colours  is  forbidden  to  the  strict 
Muslim  and  it  is  generally  considered  proper,  in  a  man  of  position,  to 
wear  them  only  on  festive  occasions  or  in  private,  as  in  the  text. 


i84 

ben  Ali  ben  Abdallah  ben  el  Abbas,*  who  was  great  ot 
gravity  and  piety  and  decorousness,  and  £r  Reshid  was 
used  instantly  to  require  of  him  that  he  should  keep  him 
company  in  his  carousals  and  drink  with  him  and  had 
proflfered  him,  to  this  end,  riches  galore,  but  he  still 
refused.  It  chanced  that  this  Abdulmelik  es  Salih  came 
to  the  door  of  Jaafer  ben  Yehya,  that  he  might  bespeak 
him  of  certain  occasions  of  his,  and  the  chamberlain, 
doubting  not  but  he  was  the  Abdulmelik  ben  Salih  afore- 
said, whom  Jaafer  had  charged  him  admit  and  that  he 
should  suffer  none  but  him  to  enter,  allowed  him  to  go 
in  to  his  master. 

When  Jaafer  saw  him,  his  reason  was  like  to  depart 
for  shame  and  he  knew  that  the  chamberlain  had  been 
deceived  by  the  likeness  of  the  name ;  and  Abdulmelik 
also  perceived  how  the  case  stood  and  confusion  was 
manifest  to  him  in  Jaafer's  face.  So  he  put  on  a  cheerful 
favour  and  said,  "  No  harm  be  upon  you ! «  Bring  us  of 
these  dyed  clothes."  So  they  brought  him  a  dyed  gown" 
and  he  put  it  on  and  sat  discoursing  cheerily  with  Jaafer 

*  The  Abbasides  or  descendants  of  El  Abbas,  the  Prophet's  ancle, 
were  noted  for  their  excessive  pride  and  pretensions  to  strict  orthodoxy 
in  all  outward  observances.  Abdulmelik  ben  Salih,  who  was  a  well- 
known  general  and  statesman  of  the  time,  was  especially  renowned  for 
pietism  and  austerity  of  manners. 

•  i^.  Do  not  let  my  presence  trouble  yoti. 

'  As  a  member  of  the  reigning  family,  he  of  course  wore  black 
clothes,  that  being  the  especial  colour  of  the  house  of  Abbas,  adopted 
by  them  in  opposition  to  the  rival  (and  fallen)  dynasty  of  the  Benou 
Umeyyeh,  whose  fiamily  colour  was  white,  tha*^  of  the  house  of  Ali 
being  green. 


i85     . 

and  jesting  with  him.  Then  said  he, "  Give  as  to  diink 
of  your  wine."  So  they  poured  him  out  a  pint  and  he 
said, "Be  ye  indulgent  with  us,  for  we  have  no  wont  of 
this.**  Then  he  chatted  and  jested  with  them  till  Jaafer's 
breast  dilated  and  his  constraint  ceased  from  him  and  his 
shamefastness,  and  he  rejoiced  in  this  with  an  exceeding 
joy  and  said  to  Abdulmelik,  "What  is  thine  errand?" 
Quoth  the  other,  "I  come  (may  God  amend  thee  I)  on 
three  occasions,  whereof  I  would  have  thee  bespeak  the 
Khalif ;  to  wit,  firstly,  I  have  on  me  a  debt  to  the  amount 
of  a  thousand  thousand  dirhems,*  which  I  would  have 
discharged;  secondly,  I  desire  for  my  son  the  office  of 
governor  of  a  province,  whereby  his  rank  may  be  raised  j 
and  thirdly,  I  would  fain  have  thee  marry  him  to  a 
daughter  of  the  Khalif^  for  that  she  is  his  cousin  and  he 
is  a  match  for  her."  And  Jaafer  said,  "God  accom- 
plisheth  unto  thee  these  three  occasions.  As  for  the 
money,  it  shall  presently  be  carried  to  thy  house ;  as  for 
the  government,  I  make  thy  son  viceroy  of  Egypt;  and 
as  for  the  marriage,  I  give  him  to  wife  such  an  one,  the 
daughter  of  our  Lord  the  Commander  of  the  Faithful,  at 
a  dowry  of  such  and  such  a  sum.  So  depart  in  the 
assurance  of  God  the  Most  High." 

So  Abdulmelik  went  away  to  his  house,  whither  he 
found  that  the  money  had  foregone  him,  and  on  the 
morrow  Jaafer  presented  himself  before  the  Khalif  and 
acquainted  him  with  what  had  passed  and  that  he  had 
appointed  Abdulmelik's   son  governor  of  Egypt  and  had 

*  Abont  ;^25,(xx>.  Ibn  Khellikan  makes  the  debt  four  millions  of 
dirhems  or  about  ;^ioo,ooo. 


i86 

promised  him  his  daughter  in  marriage.  £r  Reshid  ap- 
proved of  this  and  confirmed  the  appointment  and  the 
marriage.  [Then  he  sent  for  the  young  man]  and  he 
went  not  forth  of  the  palace  of  the  Khalif  till  he  wrote 
him  the  patent  [of  investiture  with  the  government]  of 
Egypt;  and  he  let  bring  the  Cadis  and  the  witnesses 
and  drew  up  the  contract  of  marriage. 


ER    RESHID    AND    THE 
BARMECIDES. 


ER  RESHID  AND  THE  BARMECIDES.* 

It  is  said  that  the  most  extraordinaiy  of  that  which 
happened  to  Er  Reshid  was  as  follows :  His  brother 
El  Hadi,'  when  he  succeeded  to  the  Khalifate,  enquired 
of  a  seal-ring  of  great  price,  that  had  belonged  to  his 
father  El  Mehdi,'  and  it  came  to  his  knowledge  that 
Er  Reshid  had  taken  iu  So  he  required  it  of  the  latter, 
who  refused  to  give  it  up,  and  El  Hadi  insisted  upon  him, 
but  he  still  denied  the  seal-ring  of  the  Khalifate.  Now 
this  was  on  the  bridge  [over  the  Tigris],  and  he  threw  the 
ring  into  the  river.  When  El  Hadi  died  and  Er  Reshid 
succeeded  to  the  Khalifate,  he  came  in  person  to  that 
bridge,  with  a  seal-ring  of  lead,  which  he  threw  into  the 
river  at  the  same  place,  and  bade  the  divers  seek  it  So 
they  did  [his  bidding]  and  brought  up  the  first  ring,  and 
this  was  reckoned  [an  omen]  of  Er  Reshid's  good  fortune 
and  [a  presage  of]  the  continuance  of  his  reign.* 

*  Breslau  text,  voL  viL  pp.  258-60,  Night  dlxviL 

•  Fourth  Khalif  of  the  house  of  Abbas,  aj>.  785-786W 

•  Third  Khalif  of  the  house  of  Abbas,  A.D.  775-785. 

*  The  following  is  Et  Teberi's  version  of  this  anecdote.  El  Mehdi 
had  presented  his  son  Haroun  with  a  ruby  ring,  worth  a  hundred 
thousand  dinars,  and  the  latter  being  one  dey  with  his  brother  [the  then 
reigning  Khalif],  EI  Hadi  saw  the  ring  on  his  finger  and  desired  it.  So, 
when  Haroun  went  out  from  him,  he  sent  after  him,  to  seek  the  ring  ol 
him.  The  KhaliPs  messenger  overtook  Er  Reshid  on  the  bridge  ovef 
the  Tigris  and  acquainted  him  with  his  errand  ;  whereupon  the  prince 
enraged  at  the  demand,  pulled  off  the  ring  and  threw  it  into  the  river. 
When  El  Hadi  died  and  Er  Reshid  succeeded  to  the  throne^  he  went 


190 

When  Er  Reshid  came  to  the  throne,  he  invested  Jaafei 
ben  Yehya  ben  Khalid  el  BermekiV  with  the  vizierate. 
Now  Jaafer  was  eminently  distinguished  for  generosity  and 
munificence,  and  the  stories  of  him  to  this  efiFect  are  re- 
nowned and  are  written  in  the  books.  None  of  the  viziers 
attained  to  the  rank  and  favour  which  he  enjoyed  with 
Er  Reshid,  who  was  wont  to  call  him  brother*  and  used  to 
carry  him  with  him  into  his  house.  The  period  of  his 
vizierate  was  nineteen  years,*  and  Yehya  one  day  said  to 
his  son  Jaafer,  "  O  my  son,  what  time  thy  reed  trembleth, 
water  it  with  kindness."  *  Opinions  differ  concerning  the 
reason  of  Jaafer's  slaughter,  but  the  better  is  as  follows. 

with  his  suite  to  the  bridge  in  question  and  bade  his  Vizier  Yehya  ben 
Khalid  send  for  divers  and  cause  them  make  search  for  the  ring.  It  had 
then  been  five  months  in  the  water  and  no  one  believed  it  would  be 
found.  However,  the  divers  plunged  into  the  river  and  found  the  ting 
in  the  very  place  where  he  had  thrown  it  in,  whereat  Haroun  rejoiced 
with  an  exceeding  joy,  regarding  it  as  a  presage  of  fair  fortune. 

*  This  is  an  error.  Jaafer's  father  Yehya  was  appointed  by  Haroun 
his  vizier  and  practically  continued  to  exercise  that  office  till  the  fall  of 
the  Barmecides  (a.d.  803),  his  sons  Fezl  and  Jaafer  acting  only  as  his 
assistants  or  lieutenants.  See  my  Essay  on  the  History  and  Character  of 
the  Book  of  the  Thousand  Nights  and  One  Night. 

*  Another  mistake.  It  was  Fezl,  the  Khalirs  foster-brother,  to  whom 
he  used  to  give  this  title. 

*  A  third  mistake.  The  whole  period  during  which  the  empire  was 
governed  by  Yehya  and  his  soni  was  onlj  seventeen  years,  u«.  A.D 
786-803,  but  see  my  Essay. 

*  The  apparent  meaning  of  this  somewhat  obscure  saying  is,  "  Since 
fortune  is  imcertain,  conciliate  the  favour  of  those  with  whom  thou  hast 
to  do  by  kind  offices,  so  thoa  mayst  find  refuge  with  them  in  time 
of  need." 


191 

Er  Reshid  could  not  brook  to  be  parted  from  Jaafer  nor 
from  his  [own]  sister  Abbaseh,  daughter  of  El  Mehdi, 
a  single  hour,  and  she  was  the  loveliest  woman  of  her 
time ;  so  he  said  to  Jaafer,  "  I  will  marry  thee  to  her,  that 
it  may  be  lawful  to  thee  to  look  upon  her,  but  thou  shalt 
not  touch  her."  [Accordingly,  they  were  married]  and 
they  used  both  to  be  present  in  Er  Reshid's  sitting 
chamber.  Now  the  Khalif  would  rise  bytimes  [and  go 
forth]  from  the  chamber,  and  they  being  both  young  and 
filled  with  wine,  Jaafer  would  rise  to  her  and  swive  her. 
She  conceived  by  him  and  bore  a  handsome  boy  and 
fearing  Er  Reshid,  despatched  the  newborn  child  by  one  of 
her  confidants  to  Mecca  the  Holy,  may  God  the  Most  High 
advance  it  in  honour  and  increase  it  in  venerance  and 
nobility  and  magnification  I  The  afifair  abode  concealed 
till  there  befell  despite  between  Abbaseh  and  one  of  her 
slave-girls,  whereupon  the  latter  discovered  the  affair  of 
the  child  to  Er  Reshid  and  acquainted  him  with  its 
abiding-place.  So,  when  the  Khalif  made  the  pilgrimage, 
he  despatched  one  who  brought  him  the  boy  and  found  the 
affair  true,  wherefore  he  caused  befall  the  Barmecides  that 
which  befell.* 

^  For  a  detailed  accotmt  of  the  Barmecides  and  of  their  &11,  tee  my 


IBN    ES   SEMMAK   AND   ER 
RESHID. 


VOL.  1  13 


IBN  ES  SEMMAK  AND  ER  RESHID.' 

It  is  related  that  Ibn  es  Semmak'  went  in  one  day 
to  Er  Reshid  and  the  Khalif,  being  athirst,  called  for 
drink.  So  his  cup  was  brought  him,  and  when  he  took 
it,  Ibn  es  Semmak  said  to  him,  "Softly,  O  Commander 
of  the  Faithful!  If  thou  wert  denied  this  draught,  with 
what  wouldst  thou  buy  it?"  "With  the  half  of  my 
kingdom,"  answered  the  Khalif;  and  Ibn  es  Semmak  said, 
"Drink  and  God  prosper  it  to  thee  I"  Then,  when  he 
had  drunken,  he  said  to  him,  "If  thou  wert  denied  the 
going  forth  of  the  draught  from  thy  body,  with  what 
wouldst  thou  buy  its  issue?"  "With  the  whole  of  my 
kingdom,"  answered  Er  Reshid :  and  Ibn  es  Semmak 
said,  "  O  Commander  of  the  Faithful,  verily,  a  kingdom 
that  weigheth  not  in  the  balance  against  a  draught  [of 
water]  or  a  voiding  of  urine  is  not  worth  the  striving  for." 
And  Haroun  wept 

*  Breslau  Text,  vol.  viL  pp.  260-1,  Night  dlxviiL 

'  Aboulabbas  Mohammed  Ibn  Sabih,  surnamed  Ibn  es  Semmak  (son 
of  the  fishmonger),  a  well-known  Cufan  jurisconsult  and  ascetic  of  the 
time.  He  passed  the  latter  part  of  his  life  at  Baghdad  and  enjoyed 
high  favour  with  Er  Reshid,  as  the  only  theological  authority  whom  the 
latter  could  induce  to  promise  him  admission  to  Paradise. 


EL  MAMOUN  AND  ZUBEIDEtt 


EL  MAMOUN  AND  ZUBEIDEH.« 

It  is  said  that  El  Mamoun'  came  one  day  upon  Zubeideh, 
mother  of  El  Amin/  and  saw  her  moving  her  lips  and 
muttering  somewhat  he  understood  not;  so  he  said  to 
her,  "O  mother  mine,  dost  thou  imprecate  [curses] 
upon  me,  for  that  I  slew  thy  son  and  despoiled  him  of 
his  kingdom?"  "Not  so,  by  Allah,  O  Commander  of 
the  Faithful!*'  answered  she,  and  he  said,  "What  then 
saidst  thou?"  Quoth  she,  "Let  the  Commander  of  the 
Faithful  excuse  me."  But  he  was  instant  with  her,  saying, 
"Needs  must  thou  tell  it"  And  she  replied,  "I  said, 
*God  confound  importunity  I  * "  "How  so?"  asked  the 
Khalif,  and  she  said,  "  I  played  one  day  at  chess  with  the 
Commander  of  the  Faithful  [Haroun  er  Reshid]  and 
he  imposed  on  me  the  condition  of  commandment  and 

*  Breslaa  Text,  vol.  viL  pp.  261-2,  Night  dIxviiL 

■  Seventh  Khalif  of  the  house  of  Abbas,  A.D.  813-33. 

•  Sixth  Khalif  of  the  house  of  Abbas,  A.D.  809-13,  a  sangninary  and 
incapable  prince,  whose  contemplated  treachery  against  his  brother  El 
Mamoun,  (whom,  by  the  advice  of  his  vizier,  the  worthless  intriguer 
Fezl  ben  Rebya,  the  same  who  was  one  of  the  prime  movers  in  the  ruin 
of  the  illustrious  Barmecide  family  and  who  succeeded  Yehya  and  his 
sons  in  the  vizierate  (see  my  Essay),  he  contemplated  depriving  of  his 
rijfht  of  succession  and  murdering,)  was  deservedly  requited  with  the 
loss  of  his  own  kingdom  and  life.  He  was,  by  the  way,  put  to  death 
by  £1  Mamoun's  general,  in  contravention  of  the  express  orders  of  that 
generous  and  humane  prince,  who  wished  his  brother  to  be  sent  prisoner 
tc  Uim,  on  the  capture  of  Baghdad. 


200 

acceptance.*  He  beat  me  and  bade  me  put  off  my  clothes 
and  go  round  about  the  palace,  naked ;  so  I  did  this,  and 
I  incensed  against  him.  Then  we  fell  again  to  pla)dng 
and  I  beat  him ;  so  I  bade  him  go  to  the  kitchen  and 
swive  the  foulest  and  sorriest  wench  oi  the  wenches 
thereof.  [I  went  to  the  kitchen]  and  found  not  a  slave- 
girl  fouler  and  filthier  than  thy  mother;'  so  I  bade  him 
swive  her.  He  did  as  I  bade  him  and  she  became  with 
child  by  him  of  thee,  and  thus  was  I  [by  my  unlucky 
insistance]  the  cause  of  the  slaying  of  my  son  and  the 
despoiling  him  of  his  kingdom."  When  £1  Mamoun 
heard  this,  he  turned  away,  saying,  *'God  curse  the 
importimate  1 "  to  wit,  himself  who  had  importuned  her 
till  she  acquainted  him  with  that  matter. 

'  /.#.  forfeits.  It  is  ft  fovonrite  custom  among  the  Arabs  to  impose  OB 
the  loser  of  a  game,  in  lieu  oi  stalces,  the  obligation  of  doing  wliatsoeTer 
the  winner  may  command  liim.  For  an  illnstratioo  of  tliis  practice,  see 
my  "  Book  of  the  Thousand  Nights  and  One  Night,"  VoL  V.  pp^  336-4I, 
Story  oi  the  Sandalwood  Merchant  and  the  Sharpers. 

*  £1  Mamoun  was  of  a  very  swarthy  complexion  and  is  said  to  haw 
been  the  son  of  a  black  slave-girl.  Znbeideh  was  Er  Reshid's  cousin, 
and  El  Amin  was,  therefore,  a  member  of  the  house  of  Abbas,  both  on 
the  father's  and  mother's  side.  Of  this  purity  of  descent  from  the 
Prophet's  family  (in  which  he  is  said  to  have  stood  alone  among  the 
Khalifs  of  the  Abbaside  dynasty)  both  himself  and  liis  mother  were 
exceedingly  proud,  and  it  was  doubtless  this  circumstance  which  led  Er 
Reshid  to  prefer  El  Amin  and  to  assign  him  the  precedence  in  the  soo* 
cession  over  the  more  capable  and  worthier  El  Mamona. 


EN   NUMAN   AND  THE   ARAB 
OF  THE  BENOU  TAL 


EN  NUMAN  AND  THE  ARAB  OF  THE 
BENOU  TAI.» 

It  is  said  that  En  Numan*  had  two  boon-companions, 
one  of  whom  was  called  Ibn  Saad  and  the  other  Amrou 
ben  el  Melik,  and  he  became  one  night  drunken  and 
bade  bury  them  alive;  so  they  buried  them.  When  he 
arose  on  the  morrow,  he  enquired  for  them  and  was 
acquainted  with  their  case,  whereupon  he  built  over  them 
a  monument  and  appointed  to  himself  a  day  of  ill-luck 
and  a  day  of  good-luck.  If  any  met  him  on  his  day  of 
ill-omen,  he  slew  him  and  with  his  blood  he  washed  the 
monument  aforesaid,  the  which  is  a  place  well  known  in 
Cufa ;  and  if  any  met  him  on  his  day  of  grace,  he  enriched 
him. 

Now  there  accosted  him  once,  on  his  day  of  ill-omen, 
an  Arab  of  the  Benou  Tai,»  and  En  Numan  would  have 
put  him  to  death;  but  the  Arab  said,  "God  quicken  the 
king  1  I  have  two  little  girls  and  have  made  none  guardian 
over  them ;  so,  if  the  king  see  fit  to  grant  me  leave  to  go 
to  them,  I  will  give  him  the  covenant  of  God  *  that  I  will 

•  Breslau  Text,  vol.  viii.  pp.  226-9,  Nights  dclx-i. 

'  A  prae-Mohammedan  King  of  the  Arab  kingdom  of  Hireh.  (a  town 
near  Cufa  on  the  Euphrates),  under  the  suzerainty  of  the  Chosroes  of 
Persia,  and  a  cruel  and  fantastic  tyrant. 

•  The  tribe  to  which  belonged  the  renowned  prse-Mohammedan  chiefr 
tain  and  poet,  Hatim  Tal,  so  celebrated  in  the  East  for  his  extravagant 
generosity  and  hospitality. 

•  M.  I  will  make  a  solemn  covenant  with  him  before  God. 


204 

return  to  him,  whenas  I  have  appointed  them  a  gnardian." 
En  Nuraan  had  compassion  on  him  and  said  to  him,  **  If  a 
man  will  be  surety  for  thee  of  those  who  are  with  us, 
[I  will  let  thee  go],  and  if  thou  return  not,  I  will  put  him 
to  death."  Now  there  was  with  En  Numan  his  vizier 
Sherik  ben  Amrou ;  so  the  Tai  ^  looked  at  him  and  said, 

Sherik  ben  Amrou,  what  device  avails  the  hand  of  death  to  stay?  O 
brother  of  the  brotherless,  brother  of  all  th'  afflicted,  say. 

Brother  of  En  Numan,  with  thee  lies  an  old  man's  anguish  to  allay,  A 
graybeard  slain,  may  God  make  fair  his  deeds  upon  the  Reckoning- 
Dayl 

Quoth  Sherik,  **  On  me  be  his  warranty,  may  God  assain 
the  king ! "  So  the  Tai  departed,  after  a  term  had  been 
assigned  him  for  his  coming. 

When  the  appointed  day  arrived,  En  Numan  sent  for 
Sherik  and  said  to  him,  "Verily  the  first  part  of  this  day 
is  past."  And  Sherik  answered,  "The  king  hath  no 
recourse  against  me  till  it  be  eventide."  When  it  evened, 
there  appeared  one  afar  off  and  En  Numan  fell  to  looking 
upon  him  and  on  Sherik,  and  the  latter  said  to  him, 
"  Thou  hast  no  right  over  me  till  yonder  fellow  come,  for 
belike  he  is  my  man."  As  he  spoke,  up  came  the  Tsu  in 
haste  and  En  Numan  said  "By  Allah,  never  saw  I  [any] 
more  generous  than  you  two  !  I  know  not  whether  of  you 
is  the  more  generous,  this  one  who  became  warrant  for 
thee  in  [danger  of]  death  or  thou  who  retiumest  unto 
slaughter."  Then  said  he  to  Sherik,  "What  prompted 
thee  to  become  warrant  for  him,  knowing  that  it  was 
*  ^«.  he  of  the  tribe  of  TaL 


205 

death?**  And  he  said,  "[I  did  this]  lest  it  be  said, 
'Generosity  hath  departed  from  viziers.'"  Then  said 
En  Numan  to  the  Tai,  "And  thou,  what  prompted  thee 
to  return,  knowing  that  therein  was  death  and  thine  own 
destruction?"  Quoth  the  Arab,  "[I  did  this]  lest  it  be 
said,  'Fidelity  hath  departed  from  the  folk.'"  And  En 
Numan  said,  "  By  Allah,  I  will  be  the  third  of  you,*  lest  it 
be  said,  *  Clemency  hath  departed  from  kings.' "  So  he 
pardoned  him  and  bade  abolish  the  day  of  ill-omen; 
whereupon  the  Arab  recited  the  following  verses : 

Full  many  a  man  incited  me  to  infidelity,  But  I  refused,  for  all  the  talk 

wherewith  they  set  on  me, 
I  am  a  man  in  whom  good  faith's  a  natural  attribute ;  TLe  deeds  of 

every  upright  man  should  with  his  speech  agree. 

Quoth  En  Numan,  "  What  prompted  thee  to  keep  faith, 
the  case  being  as  thou  sayest?"  "O  king,"  answered 
the  Arab,  "it  was  my  religion."  And  En  Numan  said, 
"What  is  thy  religion?"  "The  Christian,"  replied  the 
other.  Quoth  the  king,  "Expound  it  imto  me."  [So 
the  Tai  expounded  it  to  him]  and  En  Numan  became 
a  Christian.' 

*  In  generosity. 

'  A  similar  anecdote  is  told  of  Omar  ben  el  Khettab,  second  successor 
of  Mohammed,  and  will  be  found  in  my  "  Book  of  the  Thousand  Nights 
and  One  Night,"  Vol.  IV.  p.  239, 


1 


FIROUZ  AND   HIS   WIFE, 


n.^ 


^ 


FIROUZ  AND  HIS  WIFE.* 

A  certain  king  sat  one  day  on  the  roof  of  his  palace, 
diverting  himself  with  looking  about  him,  and  presently, 
chancing  to  look  aside,  he  espied,  on  [the  roof  of]  a 
house  over  against  his  palace,  a  woman,  never  saw  his 
eyes  her  like.  So  he  turned  to  those  who  were  present 
and  said  to  them,  "To  whom  belongeth  yonder  house?** 
"To  thy  servant  Firouz,"  answered  they,  "and  that  is  his 
wife."  So  he  went  down,  (and  indeed  love  had  made 
him  drunken  and  he  was  passionately  enamoured  of  her), 
and  calling  Firouz,  said  to  him,  "  Take  this  letter  and  go 
with  it  to  such  a  city  and  bring  me  the  answer."  Firouz 
took  the  letter  and  going  to  his  house,  laid  it  under 
his  head  and  passed  that  night.  When  the  morning 
morrowed,  he  took  leave  of  his  wife  and  set  out  for  the 
city  in  question,  unknowing  what  the  king  purposed 
against  him. 

As  for  the  king,  he  arose  in  haste  and  disguising 
himself,  repaired  to  the  house  of  Firouz  and  knocked  at 
the  door.  Quoth  Firouz's  wife,  "Who  is  at  the  door?" 
And  he  answered,  saying,  "  I  am  the  king,  thy  husband's 
master."  So  she  opened  the  door  and  he  entered  and  sat 
down,  saying,  "We  are  come  to  visit  thee."  Quoth  she, 
"  I  seek  refuge  [with  God]  from  this  visitation,  for  indeed 
I  deem  not  well  thereof."  And  the  king  said,  "  O  desire 
*  Breslau  Text,  vol.  viii.  pp.  273-8,  Nights  dclxxv-rt 
VOL.  I.  14 


210 

of  hearts,  I  am  thy  husband's  master  and  methinks  thoc 
knowest  me  not."     "Nay,"  answered  she,  "I  know  thee^ 

0  my  lord  and  master,  and  I  know  thy  purpose  and  that 
which  thou  seekest  and  that  thou  art  my  husband's  lord. 

1  understand  what  thou  wishest,  and  indeed  the  poet  hath 
forestalled  thee  in  his  saying  of  the  following  verses,  in 
reference  to  thy  case  : 

Your  water  I'll  leave  without  drinking,  for  there  Too  manj  already  havv 

drunken  whilere. 
When  the  flies  light  on  food,  from  the  platter  my  hand  I  raise,  though 

mjr  spirit  should  long  for  the  fare ; 
And  whenas  the  dogs  at  a  fountain  have  lapped,  The  lions  to  drink  ol 

the  water  forbear." 

Then  said  she,  "O  king,  comest  thou  to  a  [watering-] 
place  whereat  thy  dog  hath  drunken  and  wilt  thou  drink 
thereof?"  The  king  was  abashed  at  her  and  at  her  words 
and  went  out  from  her,  but  forgot  his  sandal  in  the  house. 

As  for  Ftrouz,  when  he  went  forth  from  his  house,  he 
sought  the  letter,  but  found  it  not ;  so  he  returned  home. 
Now  his  return  fell  in  with  the  king's  going  forth  and  he 
found  the  tatter's  sandal  in  his  house,  whereat  his  wit  was 
dazed  and  he  knew  that  the  king  had  not  sent  him  away 
but  for  a  purpose  of  his  own.  However,  he  held  his  peace 
and  spoke  not  a  word,  but,  taking  the  letter,  went  on  his 
errand  and  accomplished  it  and  returned  to  the  king,  who 
gave  him  a  hundred  dinars.  So  Firouz  betook  himself  to 
the  market  and  bought  what  beseemeth  women  of  goodly 
gifts  and  returning  to  his  wife,  saluted  her  and  gave  her 
all  that  he  had  brought  and  said  to  her,  "Arise  [go]  to 
thy  father's  house."     "Wherefore?"   asked   she,   and    he 


211 

said,  "  Verily,  the  king  hath  been  bountiful  to  me  and  I 
would  have  thee  show  forth  this,  so  thy  father  may  rejoice 
in  that  which  he  seeth  upon  thee."  "  With  all  my  heart," 
answered  she  and  arising  forthright,  betook  herself  to  the 
house  of  her  father,  who  rejoiced  in  her  coming  and  in 
that  which  he  saw  upon  her;  and  she  abode  with  him  a 
month's  space,  and  her  husband  made  no  mention  of  her. 

Then  came  her  brother  to  him  and  said,  "  O  Firouz,  an 
thou  wilt  not  acquaint  me  with  the  reason  of  thine  anger 
against  thy  wife,  come  and  plead  with  us  before  the  king." 
Quoth  he,  "If  ye  will  have  me  plead  with  you,  I  will  do 
so."  So  they  went  to  the  king  and  found  the  cadi  sitting 
with  him;  whereupon  quoth  the  damsel's  brother,  "God 
assist  our  lord  the  cadi!  I  let  this  man  on  hire  a  high- 
walled  garden,  with  a  well  in  good  case  and  trees  laden 
with  fruit ;  but  he  beat  down  its  walls  and  ruined  its  well 
and  ate  its  fruits,  and  now  he  desireth  to  return  it  to  me." 
The  cadi  turned  to  Firouz  and  said  to  him,  "  What  sayst 
thou,  O  youth?"  And  he  answered,  "Indeed,  I  delivered 
him  the  garden  in  the  goodliest  of  case."  So  the  cadi 
said  to  the  brother,  "Hath  he  delivered  thee  the  garden, 
as  he  saith  ?  "  And  the  other  replied,  "  No ;  but  I  desire 
to  question  him  of  the  reason  of  his  returning  it"  Quoth 
the  cadi,  "What  sayst  thou,  O  youth?"  And  Firouz 
answered,  "I  returned  it  in  my  own  despite,  for  that  I 
entered  it  one  day  and  saw  the  track  of  the  lion ;  where- 
fore I  feared  lest,  if  I  entered  it  again,  the  lion  should 
devour  me.  So  that  which  I  did,  I  did  of  reverence  to 
him  and  for  fear  of  him." 

Now  the    king  was    leaning  back  upon  the  cushion, 


aia 


■nd  when  he  heard  the  man's  words,  he  knew  the  purport 
therecrf;  so  he  sat  up  and  said,  "  Return  lo  thjr  garden 
in  all  assurance  and  ease  of  hearty  for,  by  Allah,  never 
saw  1  the  like  of  thy  garden  nor  stouter  of  ward  than 
its  walls  over  its  trees  1 "  So  Ftrouz  returned  to  his  wile, 
and  the  cadi  knew  not  the  truth  oi  the  afiair,  no,  nor 
any  oi  those  who  were  in  that  assembly,  save  the  lung 
and  the  husband  and  the  damsel's  brother/ 

t  A  amilar  story  will  be  foood  in  •?  *  Book  ut  die  ThoiwiMl  Nigbti 
«dH  Om  NiglO^"  Vol  V.  |k  16^ 


KING  SHAH   BEKHT  AND   HIS 
VIZIER   ER   REHWAN. 


KING  SHAH  BEKHT  AND  HIS  VIZIER 

ER   REHWAN.» 

There  was  once,  of  old  days  and  in  bygone  ages  and 
times,  a  king  of  the  kings  of  the  time,  by  name  Shah 
Bekht,  who  had  troops  and  servants  and  guards  galore 
and  a  vizier  called  Er  Rehwan,  who  was  wise,  understand- 
ing, a  man  of  good  counsel  and  a  cheerful  acceptor  of  the 
commandments  of  God  the  Most  High,  to  whom  belong 
might  and  majesty.  The  king  committed  to  him  the 
affairs  of  his  kingdom  and  his  subjects  and  said  according 
to  his  word,  and  on  this  wise  he  abode  a  long  space  of 
time. 

Now  this  vizier  had  many  enemies,  who  envied  him  his 
high  place  and  still  sought  to  do  him  hurt,  but  found  no 
way  thereunto,  and  God,  in  His  fore-knowledge  and  His 
fore-ordinance  from  time  immemorial,  decreed  that  the 
king  dreamt  that  the  Vizier  Er  Rehwan  gave  him  a  fruit 
from  off  a  tree  and  he  ate  it  and  died.  So  he  awoke, 
affrighted  and  troubled,  and  when  the  vizier  had  presented 
himself  before  him  [and  withdrawn]  and  the  king  was 
alone  with  those  in  whom  he  trusted,  he  related  to  them 
his  dream  and  they  counselled  him  to  send  for  the 
astrologers  and  interpreters  [of  dreams]  and  commended 
to  him  a  sage,  for  whose  skill  and  wisdom  they  vouched. 
Sc  the  king  sent  for  him  and  entreated  him  with  honour 

'  Breslan  Text,  toL  zi.  pp.  84-318,  Nights  dccclxxr-dcccczzz. 


2l6 

and  made  him  draw  near  to  himself  Now  there  had 
been  private  with  the  sage  in  question  a  company  of  the 
▼izier's  enemies,  who  besought  him  to  slander  the  vizier 
to  the  king  and  counsel  him  to  put  him  to  death,  in 
consideration  of  that  which  they  promised  him  of  wealth 
galore;  and  he  agreed  with  them  of  this  and  told  the 
king  that  the  vizier  would  slay  him  in  the  course  of  the 
[ensuing]  month  and  bade  him  hasten  to  put  him  to  death, 
else  would  he  siurely  slay  him. 

Presently,  the  vizier  entered  and  the  king  signed  to  him 
to  cause  avoid  the  place.  So  he  signed  to  those  who  were 
present  to  withdraw,  and  they  departed  ;  whereupon  quoth 
the  king  to  him,  "  How  deemest  thou,  O  excellent  vizier, 

0  loyal  counsellor  in  all  manner  of  governance,  of  a  vision 

1  have  seen  in  my  sleep?"  "What  is  it,  O  king?"  asked 
the  vizier,  and  Shah  Bekht  related  to  him  his  dream, 
adding,  "  And  indeed  the  sage  interpreted  it  to  me  and 
said  to  me,  *  An  thou  put  not  the  vizier  to  death  within 
a  month,  he  will  slay  thee.'  Now  I  am  exceeding  loth 
to  put  the  like  of  thee  to  death,  yet  do  I  fear  to  leave  thee 
on  life.  What  then  dost  thou  counsel  me  that  I  should 
do  in  this  matter?"  The  vi?ier  bowed  his  head  awhile, 
then  raised  it  and  said,  "  God  prosper  the  king  1  Verily,  it 
skills  not  to  continue  him  on  life  of  whom  the  king  is 
afraid,  and  my  counsel  is  that  thou  make  haste  to  put  me 
to  death." 

When  the  king  heard  his  speech,  he  turned  to  him  and 
said,  "  It  is  grievous  to  me,  O  vizier  of  good  counsel." 
And  he  told  him  that  the  [other]  sages  testified  [to  the 
correctness  of  their  fellow's  interpretation  of  the  dream] ; 


217 

whereupon  Er  Rehvean  sighed  and  knew  that  the  king 
went  in  fear  of  him;  but  he  showed  him  fortitude  and 
said  to  him,  "  God  assain  the  king  I  My  counsel  is  that 
the  king  accomplish  his  commandment  and  execute  his 
ordinance,  for  that  needs  must  death  be  and  it  is  liefei 
to  me  that  I  die,  oppressed,  than  that  I  die,  an  oppressor. 
But,  if  the  king  see  fit  to  defer  the  putting  of  me  to  death 
till  the  morrow  and  will  pass  this  night  with  me  and  take 
leave  of  me,  when  the  morrow  cometh,  the  king  shall  do 
what  he  will" 

Then  he  wept  till  he  wet  his  gray  hairs  and  the  king 
was  moved  to  compassion  for  him  and  granted  him  that 
which  he  sought  and  vouchsafed  him  that  night's  respite. 


(!P^e  jfitet  Ht^  of  t^e  fRonl^ 

MThen  it  was  eventide,  the  king  caused  avoid  his  sitting 
chamber  and  summoned  the  vizier,  who  presented  him- 
self and  making  his  obeisance  to  the  king,  kissed  the 
earth  before  him  and  bespoke  him  as  follows : 


STORY  OF  THE  MAN  OF  KHORASSAN,  HIS 
SON  AND  HIS  GOVERNOR. 

"There  was  once  a  man  of  Khorassan  and  he  had 
a  son,  whose  improvement  he  ardently  desired;  but  the 
young  man  sought  to  be  alone  and  to  remove  himself 
from  his  father's  eye,  so  he  might  give  himself  up  to 
pleasance  and  delight  So  he  sought  of  his  father  [leave 
to  make]  the  pilgrimage  to  the  Holy  House  of  God  and 
to  visit  the  tomb  of  the  Prophet  (whom  God  bless  and 
keep  1).  Now  between  them  and  Mecca  was  a  journey 
of  five  hundred  parasangs;  but  his  father  could  not 
gainsay  him,  for  that  the  law  of  God  made  this^ 
incumbent  on  him  and  because  of  that  which  he  hoped 
for  him  of  improvement  [therefrom].  So  he  joined  unto 
him  a  governor,  in  whom  he  trusted,  and  gave  him  much 
money  and  took  leave  of  him.     The  son  set  out  on  the 

*  ^  pilgrimage.    Pilgrimage  is  one  of  a  Muslim's  argent  datiei^ 


219 

holy  pflgrimage*  with  the  governor  and  abode  on  that 
wise,  spending  freely  and  using  not  thrift. 

Now  there  was  in  his  neighbourhood  a  poor  man,  who 
had  a  slave-girl  of  surpassing  beauty  and  loveliness,  and 
the  youth  became  enamoured  of  her  and  suffered  grief 
and  concern  for  the  love  of  her  and  her  loveliness,  so  that 
he  was  like  to  perish  for  passion ;  and  she  also  loved  him 
with  a  love  yet  greater  than  his  love  for  her.  So  she 
called  an  old  woman  who  used  to  visit  her  and  acquainted 
her  with  her  case,  saying,  *  An  I  foregather  not  with  him, 
I  shall  die.'  The  old  woman  promised  her  that  she  would 
do  her  endeavour  to  bring  her  to  her  desire ;  so  she  veiled 
herself  and  repairing  to  the  young  man,  saluted  him  and 
acquainted  him  with  the  girl's  case,  saying,  'Her  master 
is  a  covetous  man ;  so  do  thou  invite  him  [to  thy  lodging] 
and  tempt  him  with  money,  and  he  will  sell  thee  the 
damsel.' 

Accordingly,  he  made  a  banquet,  and  stationing  himself 
in  the  man's  way,  invited  him  and  carried  him  to  his 
house,  where  they  sat  down  and  ate  and  drank  and  abode 
in  discourse.  Presently,  the  young  man  said  to  the  other, 
*I  hear  that  thou  hast  with  thee  a  slave-girl,  whom  thou 
desirest  to  sell.'  And  he  answered,  saying,  *By  Allah, 
O  my  lord,  I  have  no  mind  to  sell  her  1  *  Quoth  the 
youth,  *  I  hear  that  she  cost  thee  a  thousand  dinars,  and 

^  By  a  rhetorical  figure,  Mecca  is  sometimes  called  El  Hejj  (the 
Pilgrimage)  and  this  appears  to  be  the  case  here.  It  is  one  of  the 
dearest  towns  in  the  East  and  the  chief  occupation  of  its  inhabitants  it 
the  housing  and  fleecing  of  pilgrims.  An  Arab  proverb  says,  "  Therf 
U  no  place  in  which  money  goes  '*o  fast]  as  it  goes  in  Mecca." 


220 

I  will  give  thee  six  hundred,  to  boot'  And  the  other 
said,  •  I  sell  her  to  thee  [at  that  price].'  So  they  fetched 
notaries,  who  drew  up  the  contract  of  sale,  and  the  young 
man  counted  out  to  the  girl's  master  half  the  purchase 
money,  saying,  'Let  her  be  with  thee  till  I  complete  to 
thee  the  rest  of  the  price  and  take  my  slave-girL'  The 
other  consented  to  this  and  took  of  him  a  bond  for  the 
rest  of  the  money,  and  the  girl  abode  with  her  master,  on 
deposit. 

As  for  the  youth,  he  gave  his  governor  a  thousand 
dirhems  and  despatched  him  to  his  father,  to  fetch  money 
from  him,  so  he  might  pay  the  rest  of  the  girl's  price, 
saying  to  him,  *  Be  not  [long]  absent.*  But  the  governor 
said  in  himself  '  How  shall  I  go  to  hb  father  and  say  to 
him,  "Thy  son  hath  wasted  thy  money  and  wantoned  it 
away  **?*  With  what  eye  shall  I  look  on  him,  and  indeed, 
I  am  he  in  whom  he  confided  and  to  whom  he  hath 
entrusted  his  son?  Indeed,  this  were  ill  seen.  Nay,  I 
will  fare  on  to  the  pilgrimage*  [with  the  caravan  of 
pilgrims],  in  despite  of  this  fool  of  a  youth ;  and  when 
he  is  weary  [of  waiting],  he  will  demand  back  the 
money  [he  hath  already  paid]  and  return  to  his  father, 
and  I  shall  be  quit  of  travail  and  reproach.'  So  he  went 
on  with  the  caravan  to  the  pilgrimage'  and  took  up  his 
abode  there. 

Meanwhile,  the  youth  abode  expecting  his  governor's 

*  lit  loved  with  it 

'  It  is  not  dear  what  is  here  meant  by  El  Hejji  perhaps  Medina, 
though  this  is  a  "visitation"  and  not  an  obligatory  part  of  tha 
pilgrimage.    The  passage  is  probably  corrupt 


221 


return,  but  he  returned  not;  wherefore  concern  and 
chagrin  waxed  upon  him,  because  of  his  mistress,  and  his 
longing  for  her  redoubled  and  he  was  like  to  slay  himself. 
She  became  aware  of  this  and  sent  him  a  messenger, 
bidding  him  to  her.  So  he  went  to  her  and  she  questioned 
him  of  the  case>  whereupon  he  told  her  what  was  to 
do  of  the  matter  of  his  governor,  and  she  said  to  him, 
*  With  me  is  longing  the  like  of  that  which  is  with  thee, 
and  I  misdoubt  me  thy  messenger  hath  perished  or  thy 
father  hath  slain  him ;  but  I  will  give  thee  all  my  trinkets 
and  my  clothes,  and  do  thou  sell  them  and  pay  the  rest 
of  my  price,  and  we  will  go,  I  and  thou,  to  thy  father.' 

So  she  gave  him  all  that  she  possessed  and  he  sold  it 
and  paid  the  rest  of  her  price ;  after  which  there  remained 
to  him  a  hundred  dirhems.  These  he  spent  and  lay  that 
night  with  the  damsel  in  all  delight  of  life,  and  his  soul 
was  like  to  fly  for  joy ;  but  when  he  arose  in  the  morning, 
he  sat  weeping  and  the  damsel  said  to  him,  '  What  aileth 
thee  to  weep?'  And  he  said,  'I  know  not  if  my  father 
be  dead,  and  he  hath  none  other  heir  but  myself;  and 
how  shall  I  win  to  him,  seeing  I  have  not  a  dirhem?' 
Quoth  she,  *!  have  a  bracelet;  do  thou  sell  it  and  buy 
small  pearls  with  the  price.  Then  bray  them  and  fashion 
them  into  great  pearls,  and  thereon  thou  shalt  gain  much 
money,  wherewith  we  may  make  our  way  to  thy  country.' 
So  he  took  the  bracelet  and  repairing  to  a  goldsmith, 
said  to  him,  <  Break  up  this  bracelet  and  sell  it'  But  he 
said,  'The  king  seeketh  a  good^  bracelet;  I  will  go  to 
him  and  bring  thee  the  price  thereof.'  So  he  carried 
*■  Syn.  whole  or  perfect  {seAiA), 


222 

the  bracelet  to  the  Sultan  and  it  pleased  him  greatly, 
by  reason  of  the  goodliness  of  its  workmanship.  Then 
he  called  an  old  woman,  who  was  in  his  palace,  and 
said  to  her,  'Needs  must  I  have  the  mistress  of  this 
bracelet,  though  but  for  a  single  night,  or  I  shall  die' 
And  the  old  woman  answered,  *  I  will  bring  her  to  thee.' 

So  she  donned  a  devotee's  habit  and  betaking  herself 
to  the  goldsmith,  said  to  him,  'To  whom  belongeth  the 
bracelet  that  is  in  the  king's  hand?*  Quoth  he,  *It 
belongeth  to  a  man,  a  stranger,  who  hath  bought  him  a 
slave-girl  from  this  city  and  lodgeth  with  her  in  such  a 
place.'  So  the  old  woman  repaired  to  the  young  man's 
house  and  knocked  at  the  door.  The  damsel  opened  to 
her  and  seeing  her  clad  in  devotee's  apparel,*  saluted  her 
and  said  to  her,  *  Belike  thou  hast  an  occasion  with  us  ? ' 
*Yes,'  answered  the  old  woman;  'I  desire  privacy  and 
ablution.'  *  Quoth  the  girl,  *  Enter.'  So  she  entered  and 
did  her  occasion  and  made  the  ablution  and  prayed. 
Then  she  brought  out  a  rosary  and  began  to  tell  her  beads 
thereon,  and  the  damsel  said  to  her,  'Whence  comest 
thou,  O  pilgrim?"  Quoth  she  *[I  come]  from  [visiting] 
the  Idol  *  of  the  Absent  in  such  a  chiurch.'  There  standeth 
up  no  woman  [to  prayer]  before  him,  who  hath  an  absent 

*  i.e.  in  white  woollen  garments. 

'  t.tf.  I  desire  a  privy  place,  where  I  may  make  the  preliminary 
ablution  and  pray. 

*  It  is  customary  in  the  East  to  give  old  men  and  women  the  com* 
plimentary  title  of  "  pilgrim,"  assuming,  as  a  matter  of  coarse,  that  they 
have  performed  the  obligatory  rite  of  pilgrimage. 

*  Or  saint 

'  Keniseh,  a  Christian  or  other  non- Muslim  place  of  worship. 


223 

frieiid  and  discovereth  to  him  her  need,  but  he  acquainteth 
her  with  her  case  and  giveth  her  tidings  of  her  absent 
one.'  *0  pilgrim,'  said  the  damsel,  *we  have  an  absent 
one,  and  my  lord's  heart  cleaveth  to  him  and  I  desire  to 
go  to  the  idol  and  question  him  of  him.'  Quoth  the 
old  woman,  '[Wait]  till  to-morrow  and  ask  leave  of  thy 
husband,  and  I  will  come  to  thee  and  go  with  thee  in 
weal.* 

Then  she  went  away,  and  when  the  girl's  master  came, 
she  sought  his  leave  to  go  with  the  old  woman  and  he 
granted  her  leave.  So  the  beldam  took  her  and  carried 
her  to  the  king's  door.  The  damsel  entered  with  her,  un- 
knowing whither  she  went,  and  beheld  a  goodly  house 
and  chambers  adorned  [with  gold  and  colours]  that  were 
no  idol's  chambers.  Then  came  the  king  and  seeing  her 
beauty  and  grace,  went  up  to  her,  to  kiss  her;  whereupon 
she  fell  down  in  a  fit  and  strove  with  her  hands  and  feet. 
When  he  saw  this,  he  was  solicitous  for  her  and  held  aloof 
from  her  and  left  her;  but  the  thing  was  grievous  to  her 
and  she  refused  meat  and  drink,  and  as  often  as  the  king 
drew  near  her,  she  fled  from  him  in  affright,  wherefore  he 
swore  by  Allah  that  he  would  not  approach  her,  save  with 
her  consent,  and  fell  to  guerdoning  her  with  trinkets  and 
raiment,  but  she  only  redoubled  in  aversion  to  him. 

Meanwhile,  the  youth  her  master  abode  expecting  her; 
but  she  returned  not  and  his  heart  forbode  him  of  the 
draught  [of  separation];  so  he  went  forth  at  hazard, 
distraught  and  knowing  not  what  he  should  do,  and  fell 
to  strewing  dust  upon  his  head  and  crying  out,  '  The  old 
woman    hath   taken    her   and   gone    awayl'     The    boys 


224 

followed  him  with  stones  and  pelted  him,  sajrin^  'A 
madman!  A  madman  1'  Presently,  the  king's  chamber- 
lain^  who  was  a  man  of  age  and  worth,  met  him,  and  when 
he  saw  his  youth,  he  forbade  the  boys  and  drove  them 
away  from  him,  after  which  he  accosted  him  and  questioned 
him  of  his  case.  So  he  told  him  how  it  was  with  him 
and  the  chamberlain  said  to  him,  *  Fear  not :  all  shall  yet 
be  well  with  thee.  I  will  deliver  thy  slave-girl  for  thee :  so 
calm  thy  trouble/  And  he  went  on  to  speak  him  fair  and 
comfort  him,  till  he  put  faith  in  his  speech. 

Then  he  carried  him  to  his  house  and  stripping  him 
of  his  dothes,  clad  him  in  rags;  after  which  he  called 
an  old  woman,  who  was  his  stewardess,  and  said  to  her, 
'Take  this  youth  and  dap  on  his  neck  this  iron  chain 
and  go  round  about  with  him  in  all  the  thoroughfares 
of  the  dty;  and  when  thou  hast  made  an  end  of  this, 
go  up  with  him  to  the  palace  of  the  king.'  And  he  said 
to  the  youth,  '  In  whatsoever  place  thou  seest  the  damsel, 
speak  not  a  syllable,  but  acquaint  me  with  her  place  and 
thou  shalt  owe  her  deliverance  to  none  but  me.'  The 
youth  thanked  him  and  went  with  the  old  woman  on 
such  wise  as  the  chamberlain  bade  him.  She  fared  on 
with  him  till  they  entered  the  city  [and  made  the  round 
thereof];  after  which  she  went  up  to  the  palace  of  the 
king  and  fell  to  saying,  '  O  people  of  affluence,  look  on 
a  youth  whom  the  devils  take  twice  in  the  day  and  pray 
for  preservation  from  [a  like]  affliction  I '  And  she  ceased 
not  to  go  round  about  with  him  till  she  came  to  the 
eastern  wing^  of  the  palace,  whereupon  the  slave-girls 
^  Apparently  the  harem. 


225 

came  out  to  Icok  upon  him  and  when  they  saw  him  they 
were  amazed  at  his  beauty  and  grace  and  wept  for  him. 

Then  they  told  the  damsel,  who  came  forth  and  looked 
upon  him  and  knew  him  not.  But  he  knew  her;  so  he 
bowed  his  head  and  wept.  She  was  moved  to  compassion 
for  him  and  gave  him  somewhat  and  returned  to  her 
place,  whilst  the  youth  returned  with  the  stewardess  to 
the  chamberlain  and  told  him  that  she  was  in  the  king's 
house,  whereat  he  was  chagrined  and  said,  *By  Allah, 
I  will  assuredly  contrive  a  device  for  her  and  deliver 
her ! '  Whereupon  the  youth  kissed  his  hands  and  feet. 
Then  he  turned  to  the  old  woman  and  bade  her  change 
her  apparel  and  her  favour.  Now  this  old  woman  was 
goodly  of  speech  and  nimble  of  wit;  so  he  gave  her 
costly  and  delicious  perfumes  and  said  to  her,  'Get  thee 
to  the  king's  slave  girls  and  sell  them  these  [perfumes] 
and  make  thy  way  to  the  damsel  and  question  her  if  she 
desire  her  master  or  not.'  So  the  old  woman  went  out 
and  making  her  way  to  the  palace,  went  in  to  the  damsel 
and  drew  near  her  and  recited  the  following  verses : 

God  keep  the  days  of  love-delight  I  How  dearly  sweet  they  were  I  How 
joyous  and  how  solaceful  was  life  in  them  whilere  I 

Would  he  were  not  who  sundered  us  upon  the  parting  day  I  How  manj 
a  body  hath  he  slain,  how  many  a  bone  laid  bare? 

Sans  fault  of  mine,  my  blood  and  tears  he  shed  and  beggared  me  Of  him 
I  love,  yet  for  himself  gained  nought  thereby  whate'er. 

When  the  damsel  heard  these  verses,  she  wept  till  her 
clothes  were  drenched  and  drew  near  the  old  woman,  who 
said  to  her,   'Knowest  thou  such  an  one?'     And   she 

VOL.  I.  i; 


226 

wept  and  said,  *He  is  my  lord.  Whence  knowest  thou 
him?'  *0  my  lady,'  answered  the  old  woman,  'sawst 
thou  not  the  madman  who  came  hither  yesterday  with  the 
old  woman?  He  was  thy  lord.  But  this  is  no  time  for 
talk.  When  it  is  night,  get  thee  to  the  top  of  the  palace 
[and  wait]  on  the  roof  till  thy  lord  come  to  thee  and 
contrive  for  thy  deliverance.'  Then  she  gave  her  what 
ghe  would  of  perfumes  and  returning  to  the  chamberlain, 
acquainted  him  with  that  which  had  passed,  and  he  told 
the  youth. 

When  it  was  eventide,  the  chamberlain  let  bring  two 
horses  and  great  store  of  water  and  victual  and  a  saddle- 
camel  and  a  man  to  show  them  the  way.  These  he  hid 
without  the  town,  whilst  he  and  the  young  man  took  with 
them  a  long  rope,  made  fast  to  a  staple,  and  repaired  to 
the  palace.  When  they  came  thither,  they  looked  and 
beheld  the  damsel  standing  on  the  roof.  So  they  threw 
her  the  rope  and  the  staple;  whereupon  she  [made  the 
latter  fast  to  the  parapet  and]  wrapping  her  sleeves  about 
her  hands,  slid  down  [the  rope]  and  landed  with  them. 
They  carried  her  without  the  town,  where  they  mounted, 
she  and  her  lord,  and  fared  on,  whilst  the  guide  forewent 
them,  directing  them  in  the  way,  and  they  gave  not  over 
going  night  and  day  till  they  entered  his  father's  house. 
The  young  man  saluted  his  father,  who  rejoiced  in  him, 
and  he  related  to  him  all  that  had  befallen  him,  whereupon 
he  rejoiced  in  his  safety. 

As  for  the  governor,  he  wasted  all  that  was  with  him 
and  returned  to  the  city,  where  he  saw  the  youth  and 
excused  himself  to  him.    Then  he  questioned  him  of  what 


227 

had  befallen  him  and  he  told  him,  whereat  he  marvelled 
and  returned  to  companionship  with  him ;  but  the  youth 
ceased  to  have  regard  for  him  and  gave  him  not  stipends, 
as  of  his  [former]  wont,  neither  discovered  to  him  aught 
of  his  secrets.  When  the  governor  saw  that  there  was  no 
profit  for  him  with  the  young  Khorassani,  he  returned  to 
the  king,  the  ravisher  of  the  damsel,  and  told  him  what 
the  chamberlain  had  done  and  counselled  him  to  slay  the 
latter  and  incited  him  to  recover  the  damsel,  [promising] 
to  give  his  friend  to  drink  of  poison  and  return.  So  the 
king  sent  for  the  chamberlain  and  upbraided  him ;  where- 
upon he  fell  upon  him  and  slew  him  and  the  kmg's 
servants  fell  upon  the  chamberlain  and  slew  him. 

Meanwhile,  the  governor  returned  to  the  youth,  who 
questioned  him  of  his  absence,  and  he  told  him  that  he 
had  been  in  the  city  of  the  king  who  had  taken  the 
damsel  When  the  youth  heard  this,  he  misdoubted  of 
the  governor  and  never  again  trusted  him  in  aught,  but 
was  still  on  his  guard  against  him.  Then  the  governor 
made  great  store  of  sweetmeats  and  put  in  them  deadly 
poison  and  presented  them  to  the  youth.  When  the  latter 
saw  the  sweetmeats,  he  said  in  himself,  'This  is  an  ex- 
traordinary thing  of  the  governor  1  Needs  must  there  be 
mischief  in  this  sweetmeat,  and  I  will  make  proof  of  it 
upon  himself.*  So  he  made  ready  victual  and  set  on  the 
sweetmeat  amongst  it  and  bade  the  governor  to  his  house 
and  set  food  before  him.  He  ate  and  amongst  the  rest, 
they  brought  him  the  poisoned  sweetmeat;  so  he  ate 
thereof  and  died  fort? right;  whereby  the  youth  knew 
that  this  was  a  plot  against  himself  and  said,  '  He  who 


228 

ceeketh  his  fortune  of  his  own  [unaided]  might*  attaineth 
it  not.'  Nor  (continued  the  vizier)  is  this,  O  king  of 
the  age,  more  extraordinary  than  the  story  of  the  druggist 
and  his  wi£e  and  the  singer." 


When  King  Shah  Bekht  heard  his  vizier's  story,  he  gave 
him  leave  to  withdraw  to  his  own  house  and  he  abode 
^here  the  rest  of  the  night  and  the  next  day  till  the 
evening. 

^  ia.  otherwise  than  according  to  God's  ordinanoet 


When  the  evening  evened,  the  king  sat  in  his  privy 
sitting-chamber  and  his  mind  was  occupied  with  the 
story  of  the  singer  and  the  druggist.  So  he  called  the 
vizier  and  bade  him  tell  the  story.  **  It  is  weU,"  answered 
he.    "  They  tell,  O  my  lord,  that 

STORY  OF  THE  SINGER  AND  THE  DRUGGIST. 

There  was  once  in  the  city  of  Hemadan*  a  young  man 
of  comely  aspect  and  excellently  skilled  in  singing  to 
the  lute,  and  he  was  well  seen  of  the  people  of  the  city. 
He  went  forth  one  day  of  his  city,  with  intent  to  travel, 
and  gave  not  over  journeying  till  his  travel  brought  him 
to  a  goodly  city.  Now  he  had  with  him  a  lute  and  what 
pertained  thereto,*  so  he  entered  and  went  round  about 
the  city  till  he  fell  in  with  a  druggist,  who,  when  he 
espied  him,  called  to  him.  So  he  went  up  to  him  and 
he  bade  him  sit  down.  Accordingly,  he  sat  down  by 
him  and  the  druggist  questioned  him  of  his  case.  The 
singer  told  him  what  was  in  his  mind  and  the  other  took 
him  up  into  his  shop  and  brought  him  food  and  fed  him. 
Then  said  he  to  him,  'Arise  and  take  up  thy  lute  and 
beg  about  the  stree  ts,  and  whenas  thou  smellest  the  odour 
of  wine,  break  in  upon  the  drinkers  and  say  to  them, 

*  A  city  of  Persian  Irak. 

'  Lit.  its  apparatus,  i^.  spare  strings,  etc«l 


230 

**!  am  a  singer."  They  will  laugh  and  say,  "Corner 
[sing]  to  us."  And  when  thou  singest,  the  folk  will  know 
thee  and  bespeak  one  another  of  thee ;  so  shalt  thou 
become  known  in  the  city  and  thine  affairs  will  prosper.' 

So  he  went  round  about,  as  the  druggist  bade  him,  till 
the  sun  grew  hot,  but  found  none  drinking.  Then  he 
entered  a  by-street,  that  he  might  rest  himself,  and  seeing 
there  a  handsome  and  lofty  house,  stood  in  its  shade  and 
fell  to  observing  the  goodliness  of  its  ordinance.  As  he 
was  thus  engaged,  behold,  a  window  opened  and  there 
appeared  thereat  a  face,  as  it  were  the  moon.  Quoth 
she,  *  '  What  aileth  thee  to  stand  there  ?  Dost  thou  want 
aught  ? '  And  he  answered,  *  I  am  a  stranger,*  and  ac- 
quainted her  with  his  case ;  whereupon  quoth  she,  *  What 
sayst  thou  to  meat  and  drink  and  the  enjoyment  of 
a  fair-face[d  one]  and  getting  thee  what  thou  mayst 
spend  ? '  *  O  my  lady,*  answered  he,  '  this  is  my  desire 
and  that  in  quest  whereof  I  am  going  about.' 

So  she  opened  the  door  to  him  and  brought  him  in. 
Then  she  seated  him  at  the  upper  end  of  the  room  and 
set  food  before  him.  So  he  ate  and  drank  and  lay  with 
her  and  swived  her.  Then  she  sat  down  in  his  lap  and 
they  toyed  and  laughed  and  kissed  till  the  day  was  half 
spent,  when  her  husband  came  home  and  she  could  find 
nothing  for  it  but  to  hide  the  singer  in  a  rug,  in  which 
she  rolled  him  up.  The  husband  entered  and  seeing 
the  place  disordered*  and  smelling  the  odour  of  wine, 
questioned  her  of  this.     Quoth  she,  ♦!  had  with  me  a 

*  ia.  the  woman  whose  face  he  saw. 

*  Lit  the  place  of  battle,  i.e.  that  where  they  had  laiik 


231 

friend  of  mine  and  I  conjured  her  [to  drink  with  me] ; 
so  we  drank  a  jar  [of  wine],  she  and  I,  and  she  went 
away  but  now,  before  thy  coming  in.'  Her  husband, 
(who  was  none  other  than  the  singer's  friend  the 
druggist,  that  had  invited  him  and  fed  him),  deemed 
her  words  true  and  went  away  to  his  shop,  whereupon 
the  singer  came  forth  and  he  and  the  lady  returned  to 
their  sport  and  abode  on  this  wise  till  eventide,  when 
slie  gave  him  money  and  said  to  him,  'Come  hither  to- 
morrow in  the  forenoon.'  *  It  is  well,*  answered  he  and 
departed ;  and  at  nightfall  he  went  to  the  bath. 

On  the  morrow,  he  betook  himself  to  the  shop  of  his 
friend  the  druggist,  who  welcomed  him  and  questioned 
him  of  his  case  and  how  he  had  fared  that  day.  Quoth 
the  singer,  'May  God  requite  thee  with  good,  O  my 
brother  I  For  that  thou  hast  directed  me  unto  easance  !  * 
And  he  related  to  him  his  adventure  with  the  woman, 
till  he  came  to  the  mention  of  her  husband,  when  he 
said,  *  And  at  midday  came  the  cuckold  her  husband  and 
knocked  at  the  door.  So  she  wrapped  me  in  the  mat, 
and  when  he  had  gone  about  his  business,  I  came  forth 
and  we  returned  to  what  we  were  about.'  This  was 
grievous  to  the  druggist  and  he  repented  of  having  taught 
him  [how  he  should  do]  and  misdoubted  of  his  wife.  So 
he  said  to  the  singer,  'And  what  said  she  to  thee  at  thy 
going  away?'  And  the  other  answered,  'She  bade  me 
come  back  to  her  on  the  morrow.  So,  behold,  I  am  going 
to  her  and  I  came  not  hither  but  that  I  might  acquaint 
thee  with  this,  lest  thy  heart  be  occupied  with  me.'  Theo 
he  took  leave  of  him  and  went  his  way.     As  sooc  as  the 


232 

druggist  was  assured  that  he  had  reached  the  house,  he 
cast  the  net  over  his  shop*  and  made  for  his  house, 
misdoubting  of  his  wife,  and  knocked  at  the  door. 

Now  the  singer  had  entered  and  the  druggist's  wife 
said  to  him,  'Arise,  enter  this  chest.'  So  he  entered  it 
and  she  shut  the  lid  on  him  and  opened  to  her  husband, 
who  came  in,  in  a  state  of  bewilderment,  and  searched 
the  house,  but  found  none  and  overlooked  the  chest 
So  he  said  in  himself,  *  The  house  [of  which  the  singet 
apoke]  is  one  which  resembleth  my  house  and  the  woman 
is  one  who  resembles  my  wife,'  and  returned  to  his  shop  j 
whereupon  the  singer  came  forth  of  the  chest  and  falling 
upon  the  druggist's  wife,  did  his  occasion  and  paid  her 
her  due  and  weighed  down  the  scale  for  her.'  Then  they 
ate  and  drank  and  kissed  and  clipped,  and  on  this  wise 
they  abode  till  the  evening,  when  she  gave  him  money, 
for  that  she  found  his  weaving  good,*  and  made  him 
promise  to  come  to  her  on  the  morrow. 

So  he  left  her  and  slept  his  night  and  on  the  morrow 
he  repaired  to  the  shop  of  his  friead  the  druggist  and 
saluted  him  The  other  welcomed  him  and  questioned 
him  of  his  case;  whereupon  he  told  him  how  he  had 
fared,  till  he  came  to  the  mention  of  the  woman's 
husband,   when  he  said,   'Then    came  the   cuckold   her 

*  A  common  Eastern  ^hion  of  securing  a  shop,  when  left  for  a  short 
time.  The  word  shebekeh  (net)  may  also  be  rendered  a  grating  or  ntt- 
work  of  iron  or  other  metaL 

*  i.e.  gave  her  good  measure. 

*  ».*.  she  found  him  a  good  workman.  Equivoque  ^rotique,  apparent^ 
fxinded  on  the  to-and-fro  movement  ol  the  shuttle  in  weaving. 


233 

husband  and  she  clapped  me  into  the  chest  and  shut  the 
lid  on  me,  whilst  her  addlepated  pimp  of  a  husband  went 
round  about  the  house,  top  and  bottom;  and  when  he 
had  gone  his  way,  we  returned  to  what  we  were  about.* 
With  this,  the  druggist  was  certified  that  the  house  was 
his  house  and  the  wife  his  wife,  and  he  said,  *  And  what 
wilt  thou  do  to-day?'  Quoth  the  singer,  *I  shall  return 
to  her  and  weave  for  her  and  full  her  yam,*  and  I  came 
but  to  thank  thee  for  thy  dealing  with  me.' 

Then  he  went  away,  whilst  the  fire  was  loosed  in  the 
heart  of  the  druggist  and  he  shut  his  shop  and  betaking 
himself  to  his  house,  knocked  at  the  door.  Quoth  the 
singer,  'Let  me  get  into  the  chest,  for  he  saw  me  not 
yesterday.'  '  Nay,'  answered  she,  '  wrap  thyself  up  in  the 
rug.'  So  he  wrapped  himself  up  in  the  rug  and  stood  in 
a  comer  of  the  room,  whilst  the  druggist  entered  and 
went  straight  to  the  chest,  but  found  it  empty.  Then 
he  went  round  about  the  house  and  searched  it  from  top 
to  bottom,  but  found  nothing  and  no  one  and  abode 
between  belief  and  disbelief,  and  said  in  himself,  '  Belike, 
I  suspect  my  wife  of  that  which  is  not  in  her.'  So  he 
was  certified  of  her  innocence  and  returned  to  his  shop, 
whereupon  out  came  the  singer  and  they  abode  on  their 
former  casey  as  of  wont,  till  eventide,  when  she  gave  him 
one  of  her  husband's  shirts  and  he  took  it  and  going 
away,  passed  the  night  in  his  lodging. 

On  the  morrow,  he  repaired  to  the  droggist,  who 
saluted  him  and  came  to  meet  him  and  rejoiced  in  him 
and  smiled  in  his  face,  deeming  his  wife  innocent  Then 
*  Equivoque  erotique. 


234 

he  questioned  him  of  his  yesterday's  case  and  he  told 
him  how  he  had  fared,  saying,  *  O  my  brother,  when 
the  cuckold  knocked  at  the  door,  I  would  have  entered 
the  chest ;  but  his  wife  forbade  me  and  rolled  me  up 
in  the  rug.  The  man  entered  and  thought  of  nothing 
but  the  chest ;  so  he  broke  it  open  and  abode  as  he  were 
a  madman,  going  up  and  coming  down.  Then  he  went 
his  way  and  I  came  out  and  we  abode  on  our  wonted  case 
till  eventide,  when  she  gave  me  this  shirt  of  her  husband's; 
and  behold,  I  am  going  to  her.' 

When  the  druggist  heard  the  singer's  words,  he  was 
certified  of  the  case  and  knew  that  the  calamity,  all  of  it, 
was  in  his  own  house  and  that  the  wife  was  his  wifej 
and  he  saw  the  shirt,  whereupon  he  redoubled  in  certainty 
and  said  to  the  singer,  'Art  thou  now  going  to  her?' 
'  Yes,  O  my  brother,'  answered  he  and  taking  leave  of 
him,  went  away;  whereupon  the  druggist  started  up,  as 
he  were  a  madman,  and  ungarnished  his  shop.*  Whilst 
he  was  thus  engaged,  the  singer  won  to  the  house,  and 
presently  up  came  the  druggist  and  knocked  at  the  door. 
The  singer  would  have  wrapped  himself  up  in  the  rug, 
but  she  forbade  him  and  said  to  him,  '  Get  thee  down  to 
the  bottom  of  the  house  and  enter  the  oven*  and  shut 
the  lid  upon  thyself.'  So  he  did  as  she  bade  him  and 
she  went  down  to  her  husband  and  opened  the  door  to 
him,  whereupon  he  entered  and  went  round   about  the 

*  ia.  removed  the  goods  exposed  for  sale  and  laid  them  up  in  the 
inner  shop  or  storehouse. 

'  The  Eastern  oven  is  generally  a  great  earthenware  jar  sunken  in  Um 
earth. 


235 

house,  but  found  no  one  and  overlooked  the  oven.  So 
he  stood  meditating  and  swore  that  he  would  not  go 
forth  of  the  house  till  the  morrow. 

As  for  the  singer,  when  his  [stay  in  the  oven]  grew 
long  upon  him,  he  came  forth  therefrom,  thinking  that 
her  husband  had  gone  away.  Then  he  went  up  to  the 
roof  and  looking  down,  beheld  his  friend  the  druggist; 
whereat  he  was  sore  concerned  and  said  in  himself,  *  Alas, 
the  disgrace  of  it  I  This  is  my  friend  the  druggist,  who 
dealt  kindly  with  me  and  wrought  me  fair  and  I  have 
requited  him  with  foul'  And  he  feared  to  return  to  the 
druggist;  so  he  went  down  and  opened  the  first  door 
and  would  have  gone  out ;  but,  when  he  came  to  the 
outer  door,  he  found  it  locked  and  saw  not  the  key.  So 
he  stole  up  again  to  the  roof  and  cast  himself  down  into 
the  [next]  house.  The  people  of  the  house  heard  him 
and  hastened  to  him,  deeming  him  a  thief.  Now  the 
house  in  question  belonged  to  a  Persian;  so  they  laid 
hands  on  him  and  the  master  of  the  house  began  to  beat 
him,  saying  to  him,  '  Thou  art  a  thief.'  '  Nay,'  answered 
he,  *  I  am  no  thief,  but  a  singing-man,  a  stranger.  I  heard 
your  voices  and  came  to  sing  to  you.' 

When  the  folk  heard  his  words,  they  talked  of  letting 
him  go ;  but  the  Persian  said,  *  O  folk,  let  not  his  speech 
beguile  you.  This  fellow  is  none  other  than  a  thief  who 
knoweth  how  to  sing,  and  when  he  happeneth  on  the 
like  of  us,  he  is  a  singer.'  *  O  our  lord,'  answered  they, 
'this  man  is  a  stranger,  and  needs  must  we  release  him.* 
Quoth  he,  '  By  Allah,  my  heart  revolteth  from  this  fellow ! 
Let  me  make  an  end  of  him  with  beating.'     But  they 


236 

said,  *Thou  mayst  nowise  do  that'  So  they  deli^/ered 
the  singer  from  the  Persian,  the  master  of  the  house,  and 
seated  him  amongst  them,  whereupon  he  fell  to  singing 
to  them  and  they  rejoiced  in  him. 

Now  the  Persian  had  a  mameluke,i  as  he  were  the 
full  moon,  and  he  arose  [and  went  out],  and  the  saiger 
followed  him  and  wept  before  him,  professing  love  to 
him  and  kissing  his  hands  and  feet.  The  mameluke  took 
compassion  on  him  and  said  to  him,  'When  the  night 
Cometh  and  my  master  entereth  [the  harem]  and  the  folk 
go  away,  I  will  grant  thee  thy  desire;  and  I  lie  in  such 
a  place.'  Then  the  singer  returned  and  sat  with  the 
boon-companions,  and  the  Persian  rose  and  went  out,  he 
and  the  mameluke  beside  him.  [Then  they  returned  and 
sat  down.]*  Now  the  singer  knew  the  place  that  the 
mameluke  occupied  at  the  first  of  the  night ;  but  it  befell 
that  he  rose  from  his  place  and  the  candle  went  out. 
The  Persian,  who  was  drunken,  fell  over  on  his  face,  and 
the  singer,  supposing  him  to  be  the  mameluke,  said,  *  By 
Allah,  it  is  good  ! '  and  threw  himself  upon  him  and 
clipped  him,  whereupon  the  Persian  started  up,  crying 
out,  and  laying  hands  on  the  singer,  pinioned  him  and 
beat  him  grievously,  after  which  he  bound  him  to  a  tree 
that  was  in  the  house.* 

Now   there  was   in  the  house  a   fair  singing-girl  and 

*  i.e.  a  boughten  white  slave  [memlouk). 

•  Apparently  changing  places.  The  text  is  here  fearfully  corrupt  and 
(as  in  many  other  parts  of  the  Breslaa  Edition)  so  incoherent  «8  to  be 
almost  unintelligible. 

'  M.  in  the  (inner)  courtyard. 


237 

when  she  saw  the  singer  pinioned  and  bound  to  the  tree, 
she  waited  till  the  Persian  lay  down  on  his  couch,  when 
she  arose  and  going  to  the  singer,  fell  to  condoling  with 
him  over  what  had  betided  him  and  ogling  him  and 
handling  his  yard  and  rubbing  it,  till  it  rose  on  end. 
Then  said  she  to  him,  *  Do  thou  swive  me  and  I  will 
loose  thy  bonds,  lest  he  return  and  beat  thee  again ;  for 
he  purposeth  thee  evil.'  Quoth  he,  *  Loose  me  and  I  will 
do.'  But  she  said,  *  I  fear  that,  [if  I  loose  thee],  thou 
wilt  not  do.  But  I  will  do,  and  thou  standing  ;  and  when 
I  have  done,  I  will  loose  thee,'  So  saying,  she  pulled  up 
her  clothes  and  sitting  down  on  the  singer's  yard,  fell  to 
going  and  coming. 

Now  there  was  in  the  house  a  ram,  with  which  the 
Persian  used  to  butt,  and  when  he  saw  what  the  woman 
did,  he  thought  she  would  butt  with  him;  so  he  broke 
his  halter  and  running  at  her,  butted  her  and  broke  her 
head.  She  fell  on  her  back  and  cried  out;  whereupon 
the  Persian  started  up  from  sleep  in  haste  and  seeing  the 
singing-girl  [cast  down  on  her  back]  and  the  singer  with 
his  yard  on  end,  said  to  the  latter,  *  O  accursed  one,  doth 
not  what  thou  hast  already  done  suffice  thee  ?  *  Then  he 
beat  him  soundly  and  opening  the  door,  put  him  out  in 
the  middle  of  the  night. 

He  lay  the  rest  of  the  night  in  one  of  the  ruins,  and 
when  he  arose  in  the  morning,  he  said,  *  None  is  to  blame. 
I  sought  my  own  good,  and  he  is  no  fool  who  seeketh 
good  for  himself;  and  the  druggist's  wife  also  sought 
good  for  herself;  but  destiny  overcometh  precaution  and 
there  remaineth  no  abiding  for  me  in  this  towa'    So  he 


238 

went  forth  from  the  city.  Nor  (added  the  vizier)  is  this 
ttory,  extraordinary  though  it  be,  more  extraordinary  than 
that  of  the  king  and  his  son  and  that  which  betided  them 
of  wonders  and  rarities." 


When  the  king  heard  this  story,  he  deemed  it  pleasant 
and  said,  "This  story  is  near  unto  that  which  I  know 
and  meseeraeth  I  should  do  well  to  have  patience  and 
hasten  not  to  slay  my  vizier,  so  I  may  get  of  him  the 
story  of  the  king  and  his  son."  Then  he  gave  the  vizier 
leave  to  go  away  to  his  own  house;  so  he  thanked  him 
and  abode  in  his  house  all  that  day. 


Cn^e  QC^frTj  i^fflfit  of  ^t  iIHont|. 

When  it  was  the  time  of  the  evening  meal,  the  king 
repaired  to  the  sitting-chamber  and  summoning  the 
vizier,  sought  of  him  the  story  he  had  promised  him; 
and  the  vizier  said,  "  They  avouch,  O  king,  that 


STORY  OF  THE  KING  WHO   KNEW  THE 
QUINTESSENCE'  OF  THINGS. 

There  came  to  a  king  of  the  kings,  in  his  old  age,  a 
son,  who  grew  up  comely,  quick-witted  and  intelligent, 
and  when  he  came  to  years  of  discretion  and  became  a 
young  man,  his  father  said  to  him,  'Take  this  kingdom 
and  govern  it  in  my  stead,  for  I  desire  to  flee  [from  the 
world]  to  God  the  Most  High  and  don  the  gown  of 
wool  and  give  myself  up  to  devotioa'  Quoth  the  prince, 
*  And  I  also  desire  to  take  refuge  with  God  the  Most 
High.'  And  the  king  said,  'Arise,  let  us  flee  forth  and 
make  for  the  mountains  and  worship  in  them,  for  shame- 
fastness  before  God  the  Most  High.* 

So  they  gat  them  raiment  of  wool  and  clothing  them- 
selves therewith,  went  forth  and  wandered  in  the  deserts 
and  wastes ;  but,  when  some  days  had  passed  over  them, 
they  became  weak  for  hunger  and  repented  them  of  that 
^  i^.  the  essential  nature,  lit.  jewel. 


240 

wfiich  they  had  done,  whenas  repentance  profited  them 
not,  and  the  prince  complained  to  his  father  of  weariness 
and  hunger.  *  Dear  my  son,'  answered  the  king,  *  I  did 
with  thee  that  which  behoved  me,'  but  thou  wouldst  not 
hearken  to  me,  and  now  there  is  no  means  of  returning 
to  thy  former  estate,  for  that  another  hath  taken  the 
kingdom  and  become  its  defender ;  but  I  will  counsel 
thee  of  somewhat,  wherein  do  thou  pleasure  me.'  Quoth 
the  prince,  *  What  is  it  ? '  And  his  father  said,  '  Take  me 
and  go  with  me  to  the  market  and  sell  me  and  take  my 
price  and  do  with  it  what  thou  wilt,  and  I  shall  become 
the  property  of  one  who  will  provide  for  my  support* 

*  Who  will  buy  thee  of  me,'  asked  the  prince,  '  seeing 
thou  art  a  very  old  man  ?  Nay,  do  thou  rather  sell  me^ 
for  the  demand  for  me  will  be  greater.'  But  the  king 
said,  'An  thou  wert  king,  thou  wouldst  require  me  of 
service.* 

So  the  youth  obeyed  his  father's  commandment  and 
taking  him,  carried  him  to  the  slave-dealer  and  said  to 
the  latter,   'Sell  me  this  old  man.*     Quoth  the  dealer, 

•  Who  will  buy  this  fellow,  and  he  a  man  of  fourscore  ?  * 
Then  said  he  to  the  king,  *In  what  crafts  dost  thou 
excel  ?  *  Quoth  he,  *  I  know  the  quintessence  of  jewels 
and  I  know  the  quintessence  of  horses  and  that  of  men ; 
brief,  I  know  the  quintessence  of  all  things.'  So  the 
dealer  took  him  and  went  about,  offering  him  for  sale  to 
the  folk;  but  none  would  buy.  Presently,  up  came  the 
overseer  of  the  [Sultan's]  kitchen  and  said,  '  What  is  this 
man?*     And  the  dealer  answered,  'This  is  a  slave  foe 

^  ia.ia  profferiag  thee  the  kingship. 


241 

sale.'  The  cook  marvelled  at  this  and  bought  the  king 
for  ten  thousand  dirhems,  after  questioning  him  of  what 
he  could  do.  Then  he  paid  down  the  money  and  carried 
him  to  his  house,  but  dared  not  employ  him  in  aught  of 
service;  so  he  appointed  him  an  allowance,  such  as 
should  suffice  for  his  livelihood,  and  repented  him  of 
having  bought  him,  saying,  'What  shall  I  do  with  the 
like  of  this  fellow  ? ' 

Presently,  the  king  [of  the  city]  was  minded  to  go  forth 
to  his  garden,*  a-pleasuring,  and  bade  the  cook  forego 
him  thither  and  appoint  in  his  stead  one  who  should  dress 
meat  for  the  king,  so  that,  when  he  returned,  he  might 
find  it  ready.  So  the  cook  fell  a-considering  of  whom  he 
should  appoint  and  was  bewildered  concerning  his  affair. 
As  he  was  on  this  wise,  the  old  man  came  to  him  and 
seeing  him  perplexed  how  he  should  do,  said  to  him, 
*Tell  me  what  is  in  thy  mind;  belike,  I  may  avail  to 
relieve  thee.'  So  he  acquainted  him  with  the  king's 
wishes  and  he  said,  *  Have  no  care  for  this,  but  leave  me 
one  of  the  serving-men  and  go  thou  in  peace  and  sm^ety, 
for  I  will  suffice  thee  of  this.'  So  the  cook  departed 
with  the  king,  after  he  had  brought  the  old  man  what 
he  needed  and  left  him  a  man  of  the  guards. 

When  he  was  gone,  the  old  man  bade  the  trooper  wash 
the  kitchen-vessels  and  made  ready  passing  goodly  food. 
When  the  king  returned,  he  set  the  meat  before  him,  and 
he  tasted  food  whose  like  he  had  never  known ;  whereat 
he  marvelled  and  asked  who  had  dressed  it  So  they 
acquainted  him  with  the  old  man's  case  and  he  summoned 
^  Without  the  city. 
VOL.   I.  '*^ 


242 

him  to  his  presence  and  awarded  him  a  handsome  recom- 
pense.^ Moreover,  he  commanded  that  they  should  cook 
together,  he  and  the  cook,  and  the  old  man  obeyed  his 
commandment. 

Awhile  after  this,  there  came  two  merchants  to  the 
king  with  two  pearls  of  price  and  each  of  them  avouched 
that  his  pearl  was  worth  a  thousand  dinars,  but  there 
was  none  who  availed  to  value  them.  Then  said  the 
cook,  '  God  prosper  the  king !  Verily,  the  old  man  whom 
I  bought  avouched  that  he  knew  the  quintessence  of 
jewels  and  that  he  was  skilled  in  cookery.  We  have 
made  proof  of  him  in  cookery  and  have  found  him  the 
skilfuUest  of  men;  and  now,  if  we  send  after  him  and 
prove  him  on  jewels,  [the  truth  or  falsehood  of]  his 
pretension  will  be  made  manifest  to  us.* 

So  the  king  bade  fetch  the  old  man  and  he  came  and 
stood  before  the  Sultan,  who  showed  him  the  two  pearls. 
Quoth  he,  *  As  for  this  one,  it  is  worth  a  thousand  dinars.* 
And  the  king  said,  *So  saith  its  owner.'  *But  for  this 
other,'  continued  the  old  man,  'it  is  worth  but  five 
hundred.'  The  folk  laughed  and  marvelled  at  his  saying, 
and  the  merchant,  [the  owner  of  the  second  pearl],  said 
to  him,  *  How  can  this,  which  is  greater  of  bulk  and  purer 
of  water  and  more  perfect  of  rondure,  be  less  of  worth 
than  that  ? '  And  the  old  man  answered,  *  I  have  said  what 
b  with  me.'  *    Then  said  the  king  to  him,  *  Indeed,  the 

'  According  to  the  condnsion  of  the  story,  this  recompense  con> 
listed  in  an  augmentation  of  the  old  oum's  allowance*  of  food.  Set 
post,  p.  245. 

*  i.4, 1  have  given  my  opiniob 


243 

outward  appearance  thereof  is  like  unto  that  of  the  other 
pearl;  why  then  is  it  worth  but  the  half  of  its  price?* 
*Yes,'  answered  the  old  man,  '[its  outward  resembleth 
the  other];  but  its  inward  is  corrupt.'  'Hath  a  pearl 
then  an  outward  and  an  inward?'  asked  the  merchant, 
and  the  old  man  said,  'Yes.  In  its  inward  is  a  boring 
worm ;  but  the  other  pearl  is  sound  and  secure  against 
breakage.'  Quoth  the  merchant,  *  Give  us  a  token  of  this 
and  prove  to  us  the  truth  of  thy  saying.*  And  the  old 
man  answered,  'We  will  break  the  pearl.  If  I  prove  a 
liar,  here  is  my  head,  and  if  I  speak  truth,  thou  v/ilt  have 
lost  thy  pearl.'  And  the  merchant  said,  *  I  agree  to  that/ 
So  they  broke  the  pearl  and  it  was  even  as  the  old  man 
had  said,  to  wit,  in  its  midst  was  a  boring  worm. 

The  king  marvelled  at  what  he  saw  and  questioned  him 
of  [how  he  came  by]  the  knowledge  of  this.  *0  king,' 
answered  the  old  man,  '  this  [kind  of]  jewel  is  engendered 
m  the  belly  of  a  creature  called  the  oyster  and  its  origin  is 
a  drop  of  rain  and  it  is  firm  to  the  touch  [and  groweth 
not  warm,  when  held  in  the  hand] ;  so,  when  [I  took  the 
second  pearl  and  felt  that]  it  was  warm  to  the  touch,  I 
knew  that  it  harboured  some  living  thing,  for  that  live 
things  thrive  not  but  in  heat.'*  So  the  king  said  to  the 
cook,  '  Increase  his  allowance.'  And  he  appointed  to  him 
[fresh]  allowances. 

Awhile  after  this,  two  merchants  presented  themselves 
to  the  king  with  two  horses,  and  one  said,  *I  ask  a 
thousand  dinars  for  my  horse,'  and  the  other,  '  I  seek  five 

^  This  passage  is  evidently  conupt  I  hare  amended  it,  on  conjectorct 
to  the  best  of  my  power. 


244 

thousand  for  mine.'  Quoth  the  cook,  'We  have  cmi- 
perienced  the  old  man's  just  judgment;  what  deemeth 
the  king  of  fetching  him?'  So  the  king  bade  fetch  him, 
and  when  he  saw  the  two  horses,  he  said,  'This  one  is 
worth  a  thousand  and  the  other  two  thousand  dinars.' 
Quoth  the  folk,  '  This  [horse  that  thou  judgeth  the  lesser 
worth]  is  an  evident  thoroughbred  and  he  is  younger  and 
swifter  and  more  compact  of  Hmb  than  the  other,  ay,  and 
finer  of  head  and  clearer  of  skin  and  colour.  What  token, 
then,  hast  thou  of  the  truth  of  thy  saying  ? '  And  the  old 
man  said,  '  This  ye  say  is  all  true,  but  his  sire  b  old  and 
this  other  is  the  son  of  a  young  horse.  Now,  when  the 
son  of  an  old  horse  standeth  still  [to  rest,]  his  breath 
returneth  not  to  him  and  his  rider  falleth  into  the  hand  of 
him  who  followeth  after  him;  but  the  son  of  a  young 
horse,  if  thou  put  him  to  speed  and  make  him  run,  [then 
check  him]  and  alight  from  off  him,  thou  wilt  find  him 
untired,  by  reason  of  his  robustness.' 

Quoth  the  merchant,  *  Indeed,  it  is  as  the  old  man 
avoucheth  and  he  is  an  excellent  judge.'  And  the  king 
said,  '  Increase  his  allowance.'  But  the  old  man  stood 
still  and  did  not  go  away.  So  the  king  said  to  him,  *  Why 
dost  thou  not  go  about  thy  business  ? '  And  he  answered, 
'  My  business  is  with  the  king.'  '  Name  what  thou  wouldst 
have,'  said  the  king,  and  the  other  replied,  '  I  would  have 
thee  question  me  of  the  quintessences  of  men,  even  as 
thou  hast  questioned  me  of  the  quintessences  of  horses.* 
Quoth  the  king,  'We  have  no  occasion  to  question  thee 
of  [this].'  But  the  old  man  replied,  '  I  have  occasion  to 
acquaint  thee.'      '  Say  what  thou  pleasest,'  rejoined  the 


245 

king,  and  the  old  man  said,  *  Verily,  the  king  is  the  son 
of  a  baker/  Quoth  the  king  *  How  knowest  thou  that  ? ' 
And  the  other  replied,  *  Know,  O  king,  that  I  have 
examined  into  degrees  and  dignities  i  and  have  learnt 
this.' 

Thereupon  the  king  went  in  to  his  mother  and 
questioned  her  of  his  father,  and  she  told  him  that  the 
king  her  husband  was  weakj«  *  wherefore,'  quoth  she, 
*  I  feared  for  the  kingdom,  lest  it  pass  away,  after 
his  death ;  so  I  took  to  my  bed  a  young  man,  a  baker, 
and  conceived  by  him  [and  bore  a  son] ;  and  the  kingship 
came  into  the  hand  of  my  son,  to  wit,  thyself*  So  the 
king  returned  to  the  old  man  and  said  to  him,  'I  am 
indeed  the  son  of  a  baker;  so  do  thou  expound  to  me 
the  means  whereby  thou  knewest  me  for  this.'  Quoth  the 
other,  *  I  knew  that,  hadst  thou  been  a  king's  son,  thou 
wouldst  have  given  largesse  of  things  of  price,  such  as 
rubies  [and  the  like] ;  and  wert  thou  the  son  of  a  Cadi, 
thou  hadst  given  largesse  of  a  dirhem  or  two  dirhems, 
and  wert  thou  the  son  of  a  merchant,  thou  hadst  given 
wealth  galore.  But  I  saw  that  thou  guerdonest  me  not 
but  with  cakes  of  bread  [and  other  victual],  wherefore 
I  knew  that  thou  wast  the  son  of  a  baker.'  Quoth  the 
king,  '  Thou  hast  hit  the  mark.'  And  he  gave  him  wealth 
galore  and  advanced  him  to  high  estate." 

^  The  words  rutei  wa  mtnazil,  here  rendered  "degrees  and  digni- 
ties," may  also  be  rendered,  "  stations  and  mansions  (of  the  mooo 
and  planets).'*  •  Syn-  *'  ailing  "  or  "  lickly." 


246 

This  stoiy  pleased  King  Shah  Bekht  and  he  marvelled 
thereat;  but  the  vizier  said  to  him,  "This  story  is  not 
more  extraordinary  than  that  of  the  rich  man  who  married 
his  fair  daughter  to  the  poor  old  man."  The  king's  mind 
was  occupied  with  the  [promised]  story  and  he  bade  the 
vizier  withdraw  to  his  lodging.  So  he  [returned  to  hia 
house  and]  abode  there  the  rest  of  the  night  and  the 
whole  of  the  following  day. 


When  the  evening  evened,  the  king  withdrew  to  his 
privy  sitting-chamber  and  bade  fetch  the  vizier.  When  he 
presented  himself  before  him,  he  said  to  him,  "Tell  me 
the  story  of  the  wealthy  man  who  married  his  daughter 
to  the  poor  old  man."  "  It  is  well,"  answered  the  vizier. 
"  Know,  O  puissant  king,  that 


STORY  OF  THE  RICH  MAN  WHO  GAVE  HIS 
FAIR  DAUGHTER  IN  MARRIAGE  TO  THE 
POOR  OLD  MAN. 

A  certain  wealthy  merchant  had  a  fair  daughter,  who 
was  as  the  full  moon,  and  when  she  attained  the  age  of 
fifteen,  her  father  betook  himself  to  an  old  man  and 
spreading  him  a  carpet  in  his  sitting-chamber,  gave  him 
to  eat  and  caroused  with  him.  Then  said  he  to  him,  *I 
desire  to  marry  thee  to  my  daughter.'  The  other  excused 
himself,  because  of  his  poverty,  and  said  to  him,  '  I  am  not 
worthy  of  her  nor  am  I  a  match  for  thee.'  The  merchant 
was  instant  with  him,  but  he  repeated  his  answer  to  him, 
saying,  'I  will  not  consent  to  this  till  thou  acquaint  me 
with  the  reason  of  thy  desire  for  me.  If  I  find  it  reason- 
able, I  will  fall  in  with  thy  wish ;  and  if  not,  I  will  not  do 
this  ever.' 

'Know,  then,'  said  the  merchant,  Uhat  I  am  a  man 
from  the  land  of  China  and  was  in  my  youth  well-favoured 


248 

and  well-lo-do.  Now  I  made  no  account  of  womankind, 
one  and  all,  but  followed  after  boys,  and  one  night  I  saw, 
in  a  dream,  as  it  were  a  balance  set  up,  and  it  was  said 
by  it^  "This  is  the  portion  of  such  an  one."  Presently, 
I  heard  my  own  name ;  so  I  looked  and  beheld  a  woman 
of  the  utmost  loathliness;  whereupon  I  awoke  in  affright 
and  said,  "I  will  never  marry,  lest  haply  this  loathly 
woman  fall  to  my  lot."  Then  I  set  out  for  this  city  with 
merchandise  and  the  voyage  was  pleasant  to  me  and  the 
sojourn  here,  so  that  I  took  up  my  abode  here  awhile 
and  got  me  friends  and  factors,  till  I  had  sold  all  my 
merchandise  and  taken  its  price  and  there  was  left  me 
nothing  to  occupy  me  till  the  folk^  should  depart  and 
I  depart  with  them. 

One  day,  I  changed  my  clothes  and  putting  money  in 
my  sleeve,  sallied  forth  to  explore  the  holes  and  comers 
of  this  city,  and  as  I  was  going  about,  I  saw  a  handsome 
house.  Its  goodliness  pleased  me;  so  I  stood  looking 
on  it,  and  behold,  a  lovely  woman  [at  the  lattice].  When 
she  saw  me,  she  made  haste  and  descended,  whilst  I 
abode  confoimded.  Then  I  betook  myself  to  a  tailor 
there  and  questioned  him  of  the  house  and  to  whom  it 
belonged.  Quoth  he,  "  It  belongeth  to  such  an  one  the 
notary,  may  God  curse  him  1"  "Is  he  her  father?"  asked 
I ;  [and  he  replied,  "  Yes."]  So  I  repaired  in  haste  to  a 
man,  with  whom  I  had  been  used  to  deposit  my  goods 
(or  sale,  and  told  him  that  I  desired  to  gain  access  to 
such  an  one  the  notary.  Accordingly  he  assembled  his 
friends  and  we  betook  ourselves  to  the  notary's  house. 
^  i.e.  the  caravan  with  which  he  came. 


249 

When  we  came  in  to  him,  we  saluted  him  and  sat  with 
him,  and  I  said  to  him,  "I  come  to  thee  as  a  suitor, 
desiring  the  hand  of  thy  daughter  in  marriage."  Quoth 
he,  "I  have  no  daughter  befitting  this  man."  And  I 
rejoined,  "  God  aid  thee  f  My  desire  is  for  thee  and  not 
for  her."*  But  he  still  refused  and  his  friends  said  to  him, 
"  This  is  an  honourable  man  and  thine  equal  in  estate, 
and  it  is  not  lawful  to  thee  that  thou  hinder  the  girl  of 
her  fortune."  Quoth  he  to  them,  "Verily,  my  daughter 
whom  ye  seek  is  passing  foul-favoured  and  in  her  are 
all  blameworthy  qualities."  And  I  said,  "  I  accept  her, 
though  she  be  as  thou  sayesL"  Then  said  the  folk, 
"Extolled  be  the  perfection  of  Godl  A  truce  to  talk! 
[The  thing  is  settled;]  so  say  the  word,  how  much  wilt 
thou  have  [to  her  dowry]?'*  Quoth  he,  "I  must  have 
four  thousand  dinars."  And  I  said,  "Hearkening  and 
obedience." 

So  the  affair  was  concluded  and  we  drew  up  the  con- 
tract of  marriage  and  I  made  the  bride-feast ;  but  on  the 
wedding-night  I  beheld  a  thing*  than  which  never  made 
God  the  Most  High  aught  more  loathly.  Methought 
her  people  had  contrived  this  by  way  of  sport;  so  I 
laughed  and  looked  for  my  mistress,  whom  I  had  seen 
[at  the  lattice],  to  make  her  appearance ;  but  saw  her  not. 
When  the  affair  was  prolonged  and  I  found  none  but  her, 
I  was  like  to  go  mad  for  vexation  and  fell  to  beseeching 
my  Lord  and  humbling  myself  in  supplication  to  Him  that 

^  i,«.  I  seek  to  many  thy  daughter,  not  for  her  own  sake,  but  because 
I  desire  thine  alliance. 
'  i£.  the  face  of  his  bride. 


250 

He  would  deliver  me  from  her.  When  I  arose  in  the 
morning,  there  came  the  chamber-woman  and  said  to  me, 
"  Hast  thou  occasion  for  the  bath  ?"  "  No,"  answered  I  j 
and  she  said,  "Art  thou  for  breakfast?"  But  I  replied, 
"No;"  and  on  this  wise  I  abode  three  days,  tasting 
neither  meat  nor  drink. 

When  the  damsel  *  saw  me  in  this  plight,  she  said  to  me, 
"  O  man,  tell  me  thy  story,  for,  by  Allah,  an  I  may  avail 
to  thy  deliverance,  I  will  assuredly  further  thee  thereto." 
I  gave  ear  to  her  speech  and  put  faith  in  her  loyalty  and 
told  her  the  story  of  the  damsel  whom  I  had  seen  [at  the 
lattice]  and  how  I  had  fallen  in  love  with  her ;  whereupon 
quoth  she,  "  If  the  girl  belong  to  me,  that  which  I  possess 
is  thine,  and  if  she  belong  to  my  father,  I  will  demand 
her  of  him  and  deliver  her  to  thee."  Then  she  fell  to 
calling  slave-girl  after  slave-girl  and  showing  them  to  me, 
till  I  saw  the  damsel  whom  I  loved  and  said,  "This  is 
she."  Quoth  my  wife,  "  Let  not  thy  heart  be  troubled, 
for  this  is  my  slave-girl.  My  father  gave  her  to  me  and 
I  give  her  to  thee.  So  comfort  thyself  and  be  of  good 
heart  and  cheerful  eye." 

Then,  when  it  was  night,  she  brought  her  to  me,  after 
she  had  adorned  her  and  perfumed  her,  and  said  to  her, 
"  Gainsay  not  this  thy  lord  in  aught  that  he  shall  seek  of 
thee."  When  she  came  to  bed  with  me,  I  said  in  myself^ 
"  Verily,  this  damsel  •  is  more  generous  than  1 1  **  Then 
I  sent  away  the  slave-girl  and  drew  not  nigh  unto  her,  but 
arose  forthright  and  betaking  myself  to  my  wife,  lay  with 
her  and  dia  away  her  maidenhead.  She  straightway  con- 
^  i.e.  his  wife.  *  i,*.  his  wifis. 


251 

ceived  by  me  and  accomplishing  the  time  of  her  pregnancy, 
gave  birth  to  this  dear  little  daughter ;  in  whom  I  rejoiced, 
for  that  she  was  lovely  to  the  utterest,  and  she  hath  in- 
herited her  mother's  wit  and  her  father's  comeliness. 

Indeed,  many  of  the  notables  of  the  people  have  sought 
her  of  me  in  marriage,  but  I  would  not  marry  her  to  any, 
for  that,  one  night,  I  saw,  in  a  dream,  the  balance  afore- 
said set  up  and  men  and  women  being  weighed,  one 
against  the  other,  therein,  and  meseemed  I  saw  thee  [and 
her]  and  it  was  said  to  me,  "This  is  such  a  man,*  the 
allotted  portion  of  such  a  woman."*  Wherefore  I  knew 
that  God  the  Most  High  had  allotted  unto  her  none  other 
than  thyself,  and  I  choose  rather  to  marry  thee  to  her  in 
my  lifetime  than  that  thou  shouldst  marry  her  after  my 
death.' 

When  the  poor  man  heard  the  merchant's  story,  he 
became  desirous  of  marrying  his  daughter.  So  he  took 
her  to  wife  and  was  vouchsafed  of  her  exceeding  love. 
Nor,"  added  the  vizier,  "  is  this  story  more  extraordinary 
than  that  of  the  rich  man  and  his  wasteful  heir." 


When  the  king  heard  his  vizier's  story,  he  was  assured 
that  he  would  not  slay  him  and  said,  "  I  will  have  patience 
with  him,  so  I  may  get  of  him  the  story  of  the  rich  man 
and  his  wasteful  heir."  And  he  bade  him  depart  to  hia 
own  house. 

I  Namiog  the  poor  man.  '  Naming  his  daughter. 


HOft  M^  BW  of  f^e  Mot(£^ 

When  the  evening  evened,  the  king  sat  in  his  pAvy 
closet  and  summoning  the  vizier,  required  of  him  the 
promised  story.     So  £r  Kehwan  said,  **  Know,  O  king,  that 

STORY    OF    THE    RICH    MAN    AND    HIS 
WASTEFUL    SON. 

There  was  once  a  sage  of  the  sages,  who  had  three  sons 
and  sons'  sons,  and  when  they  waxed  many  and  their 
posterity  multiplied,  there  befell  dissension  between  them. 
So  he  assembled  them  and  said  to  them,  '  Be  ye  one  hand^ 
against  other  than  you  and  despise'  not  [one  another,] 
lest  the  folk  despise  you,  and  know  that  the  like  of  you  is 
as  the  rope  which  the  man  cut,  when  it  was  single ;  then 
he  doubled  [it]  and  availed  not  to  cut  it ',  on  this  wise  is 
division  and  union.  And  beware  lest  ye  seek  help  of 
others  against  yourselves'  or  ye  will  fall  into  perdition,  for 
by  whosesoever  means  ye  attain  your  desire,*  his  word" 
will  have  precedence  of*  your  word.  Now  I  have  wealth 
which  I  will  bury  in  a  certain  place,  so  it  may  be  a  store 
for  you,  against  the  time  of  your  need.* 

Then  they  left  him  and  dispersed  and  one  of  the  sons 
fell  to  spying  upon  his  father,  so  that  he  saw  him  hide  the 
treasure  without  the  city.    When  he  had  made  an  end  of 

»  i^.  united.  ■  Or  "  humble."  •  /.#.  one  another. 

*  Or  "  conquer."  •  Or  '*  commandment." 

•  Lii.  "  will  be  higher  than." 


253 

burying  it,  he  returned  to  his  house ;  and  when  the  mom' 
ing  morrowed,  his  son  repaired  to  the  place  where  he  had 
seen  his  father  bury  the  treasure  and  dug  and  took  it  and 
went  his  way.  When  the  [hour  of  the]  old  man's  admis- 
sion [to  the  mercy  of  God]  drew  nigh,  he  called  his  sons 
to  him  and  acquainted  them  with  the  place  where  he  had 
hidden  his  riches.  As  soon  as  he  was  dead,  they  went 
and  dug  up  the  treasure  and  found  wealth  galore,  for  that 
the  money,  which  the  first  son  had  taken  by  stealth,  was 
on  the  surface  and  he  knew  not  that  vmder  it  was  other 
money.  So  they  took  it  and  divided  it  and  the  first  son 
took  his  share  with  the  rest  and  laid  it  to  that  which  he 
had  taken  aforetime,  behind  [the  backs  of)  his  father  and 
his  brethren.  Then  he  took  to  wife  the  daughter  of  his 
father's  brother  and  was  vouchsafed  by  her  a  male  child, 
who  was  the  goodliest  of  the  folk  of  his  time. 

When  the  boy  grew  up,  his  father  feared  for  him  fi'om 
poverty  and  change  of  case,  so  he  said  to  him,  *  Dear  my 
son,  know  that  in  my  youth  I  wronged  my  brothers  in  the 
matter  of  our  father's  good,  and  I  see  thee  in  weal ;  but, 
if  thou  [come  to]  need,  ask  not  of  one  of  them  nor  of 
any  other,  for  I  have  laid  up  for  thee  in  yonder  chamber  a 
treasure ;  but  do  not  thou  open  it  until  thou  come  to  lack 
thy  day's  food.'  Then  he  died,  and  his  wealth,  which  was 
a  great  matter,  fell  to  his  son.  The  young  man  had  not 
patience  to  wait  till  he  had  made  an  end  of  that  which 
was  with  him,  but  rose  and  opened  the  chamber,  and 
behold,  it  was  [empty  and  its  walls  were]  whitened,  and  in 
its  midst  was  a  rope  hanging  down  and  half  a  score 
bricks,   one    upon    another,   and    a    scroll,  wherein    was 


254 

written,  •Needs  must  death  betide;  so  hang  thyself  and 
beg  not  of  any,  but  kick  away  the  bricks,  so  there  may  be  no 
escape*  for  thee,  and  thou  shalt  be  at  rest  from  the  exulta- 
tion of  enemies  and  enviers  and  the  bitterness  of  poverty.' 
When  the  youth  saw  this,  he  marvelled  at  that  which 
his  father  had  done  and  said,  *  This  is  a  sorry  treasure.* 
Then  he  went  forth  and  fell  to  eating  and  drinking  with 
the  folk,  till  nothing  was  left  him  and  he  abode  two  days 
without  tastmg  food,  at  the  end  of  which  time  he  took  a 
handkerchief  and  selling  it  for  two  dirhems,  bought  bread 
and  milk  with  the  price  and  left  it  on  the  shelf  [and  went 
out  Whilst  he  was  gone,]  a  dog  came  and  took  the 
bread  and  spoiled  the  milk,  and  when  the  man  returned 
and  saw  this,  he  buflfeted  his  face  and  went  forth,  dis- 
traught, at  a  venture.  Presently,  he  met  a  friend  of  his, 
to  whom  he  discovered  his  case,  and  the  other  said  to 
him,  '  Art  thou  not  ashamed  to  talk  thus?  How  hast  thou 
wasted  all  this  wealth  and  now  comest  telling  lies  and 
saying,  "  The  dog  hath  mounted  on  the  shelf,**  and  talking 
nonsense  ?  *    And  he  reviled  him. 

So  the  youth  returned  to  his  house,  and  indeed  the 
world  was  grown  black  in  his  eyes  and  he  said,  *My 
father  said  sooth.*  Then  he  opened  the  chamber  door 
and  piling  up  the  bricks  under  his  feet,  put  the  rope  about 
his  neck  and  kicked  away  the  bricks  and  swung  himself 
off;  whereupon  the  rope  gave  way  with  him  [and  he  fell] 
to  the  ground  and  the  ceiling  clove  in  sunder  and  there 
poured  down  on  him  wealth  galore.  So  he  knew  that  his 
Either  meant  to  discipline'  him   by  means  of  this  and 

*  Syn.  device  or  resource  {AileA).  '  Syn.  chasten  or  iostruct. 


255 

invoked  God's  mercy  on  him.  Then  he  got  him  again 
that  which  he  had  sold  of  lands  and  houses  and  what  not 
else  and  became  once  more  in  good  case.  Moreover,  his 
friends  returned  to  him  and  he  entertained  them  some  days. 
Then  said  he  to  them  one  day,  'There  was  with  us 
bread  and  the  locusts  ate  it;  so  we  put  in  its  place  a 
stone,  a  cubit  long  and  the  like  broad,  and  the  locusts 
came  and  gnawed  away  the  stone,  because  of  the  smell 
of  the  bread.*  Quoth  one  of  his  friends  (and  it  was  he 
who  had  given  him  the  lie  concerning  the  dog  and  the 
bread  and  milk),  *  Marvel  not  at  this,  for  mice  do  more 
than  that.*  And  he  said,  'Go  to  your  houses.  In  the 
days  of  my  poverty,  I  was  a  liar  [when  I  told  you]  of  the 
dog's  climbing  upon  the  shelf  and  eating  the  bread  and 
spoiling  the  milk ;  and  to-day,  for  that  I  am  rich  again, 
I  say  sooth  [when  I  tell  you]  that  locusts  devoured  a 
stone  a  cubit  long  and  a  cubit  broad.'  They  were  con- 
founded at  his  speech  and  departed  from  him;  and  the 
youth's  good  flourished  and  his  case  was  amended.*  Nor," 
added  the  vizier,  "is  this  stranger  or  more  extraordinary 
than  the  story  of  the  king's  son  who  fell  in  love  with  the 
picture."  

Quoth  the  king,  "  Belike,  if  I  hear  this  story,  I  shall 
gain  wisdom  from  it;  so  I  will  not  hasten  in  the  slaying 
of  this  vizier,  nor  will  I  put  him  to  death  before  the  thirty 
days  have  expired."  Then  he  gave  him  leave  to  with- 
draw, and  he  went  away  to  his  own  house. 

*  Students  of  our  old  popular  poetry  will  recognire,  in  the  principal 
incident  of  this  stoiy,  the  subject  of  the  well-known  ballad,  "  The  Heii 
of  Linne." 


^t  Sfart^  ^ffl^  of  tfje  Man^ 

When  the  day  departed  and  the  evening  came,  the  king 
sat  in  his  privy  chamber  and  summoned  the  vizier,  who 
presented  himself  to  him  and  he  questioned  him  of  the 
story.    So  the  vizier  said,  "  Know,  O  august  king,  that 

THE  KING'S  SON  WHO  FELL  IN  LOVE  WITH 
THE  PICTURE. 

There  was  once,  in  a  province  of  Persia,  a  king  of  the 
kings,  who  was  mighty  of  estate,  endowed  with  majesty 
and  venerance  and  having  troops  and  guards  at  his 
command;  but  he  was  childless.  Towards  the  end  of 
his  life,  his  Lord  vouchsafed  him  a  male  child,  and  the 
boy  grew  up  and  was  comely  and  learned  all  manner  of 
knowledge.  He  made  him  a  private  place,  to  wit,  a 
lofty  palace,  builded  with  coloured  marbles  and  [adorned 
with]  jewels  and  paintings.  When  the  prince  entered 
the  palace,  he  saw  in  its  ceiling  the  picture  [of  a  woman], 
than  whom  he  had  never  beheld  a  fairer  of  aspect,  and 
she  was  compassed  about  with  slave-girls;  whereupon 
he  fell  down  in  a  swoon  and  became  distraught  for  love 
of  her.  Then  he  sat  under  the  picture,  till,  one  day,  his 
father  came  in  to  him  and  finding  him  wasted  of  body 
and  changed  of  colour,  by  reason  of  his  [continual] 
looking  on  that  picture,  thought  that  he  was  ill  and 
sent  for  the  sages  and  physicians,  that  they  might 
medicine  him.  Moreover,  he  said  to  one  of  his  boon- 
companions,  'If  thou  canst  learn  what   aileth  my  son, 


257 

thou  shalt  have  of  me  krgesse.*  So  the  courtiei  went  in 
to  the  prince  and  spoke  him  fair  and  cajoled  him,  till  he 
confessed  to  him  that  his  malady  was  caused  by  the  picture. 
Then  he  returned  to  the  king  and  told  him  what  ailed  his 
son,  whereupon  he  transported  the  prince  to  another  palace 
and  made  his  f3rmer  lodging  the  guest-house;  and  who- 
soever of  the  Arabs  was  entertained  therein,  he  questioned 
of  the  picture,  but  none  could  give  him  tidings  thereof. 

One  day,  there  came  a  traveller  and  seeing  the  picture, 
said,  *  There  is  no  god  but  God !  My  brother  wrought  this 
picture.'  So  the  king  sent  for  him  and  questioned  him 
of  the  affair  of  the  picture  and  where  was  he  who  had 
wrought  it.  'O  my  lord,*  answered  the  traveller,  *we 
are  two  brothers  and  one  of  us  went  to  the  land  of  Hind 
and  fell  in  love  with  the  king's  daughter  of  the  country, 
and  it  is  she  who  is  the  original  of  the  portrait.  In  every 
city  he  entereth,  he  painteth  her  portrait,  and  I  follow 
him,  and  long  is  my  journey.'  When  the  king's  son  heard 
this,  be  said,  *  Needs  must  I  travel  to  this  damsel.'  So  he 
took  all  manner  rarities  and  store  of  riches  and  journeyed 
days  and  nights  till  he  entered  the  land  of  Hind,  nor 
did  he  win  thereto  save  after  sore  travail.  Then  he 
enquired  of  the  King  of  Hind  and  he  also  heard  of  him. 

When  the  prince  came  before  him,  he  sought  of  him 
his  daughter  in  marriage,  and  the  king  said,  '  Indeed,  thou 
art  her  equal,  but  none  dare  name  a  man  to  her,  because 
of  her  aversion  to  men.'  So  the  prince  pitched  his  tents 
under  the  windows  of  the  princess's  palace,  till  one  day  he 
got  hold  of  one  of  her  favourite  slave-girls  and  gave  her 
wealth  galore.  Quoth  she  to  him,  *Hast  thou  a  wish?* 
VOL.  I.  17 


258 

•Yes,'  answered  he  and  acquainted  her  with  his  case;  and 
she  said,  *  Indeed  thou  puttest  thyself  in  peril'  Then  he 
abode,  flattering  himself  with  false  hopes,  till  all  that  he 
had  with  him  was  gone  and  the  servants  fled  from  him; 
whereupon  quoth  he  to  one  in  whom  he  trusted,  'I  am 
minded  to  go  to  my  country  and  fetch  what  may  suffice 
me  and  return  hither.'  And  the  other  answered,  *  It  is  for 
thee  to  decide.'  So  they  set  out  to  return,  but  the  way 
was  long  to  them  and  all  that  the  prince  had  with  him  was 
spent  and  his  company  died  and  there  abode  but  one  with 
him,  on  whom  he  loaded  what  remamed  of  the  victual  and 
they  left  the  rest  and  fared  on.  Then  there  came  out 
a  lion  and  ate  the  servant,  and  the  prince  abode  alone. 
lie  went  on,  till  his  beast  stood  still,  whereupon  he  left 
her  and  fared  on  afoot  till  his  feet  swelled. 

Presently  he  came  to  the  land  of  the  Turks,*  and  he 
naked  and  hungry  and  having  with  him  nought  but  some- 
what of  jewels,  bound  about  his  fore-arm.  So  he  went 
to  the  bazaar  of  the  goldsmiths  and  calling  one  of  the 
brokers,  gave  him  the  jewels.  The  broker  looked  and 
seeing  two  great  rubies,  said  to  him,  'Follow  me.'  So  he 
followed  him,  till  he  brought  him  to  a  goldsmith,  to  whom 
he    gave    the   jewels,  saying,   *Buy  these.'     Quoth    he, 

*  Whence  hadst  thou  these?'     And  the  broker  replied, 

*  This  youth  is  the  owner  of  them.'  Then  said  the  gold- 
smith to  the  prince,  *  Whence  hadst  thou  these  rubies?* 
And  he  told  him  all  that  had  befallen  him  and  that  he  was 
a  king's  son.  The  goldsmith  marvelled  at  his  story  and 
bought  of  him  the  rubies  for  a  thousand  dinars. 

*  i^.  Turcomans ;  afterwards  called  Sejestan. 


259 

Then  said  the  prince  to  him,  *  Make  ready  to  go  with 
me  to  my  country.'  So  he  made  ready  and  went  with  the 
prince  till  he  drew  near  the  frontiers  of  his  father's 
kingdom,  where  the  people  received  him  with  the  utmost 
honour  and  sent  to  acquaint  his  father  with  his  son's 
coming.  The  king  came  out  to  meet  him  and  they 
entreated  the  goldsmith  with  honour.  The  prince  abode 
awhile  with  his  father,  then  set  out,  [he  and  the  gold- 
smith] to  return  to  the  country  of  the  fair  one,  the 
daughter  of  the  King  of  Hind;  but  there  met  him  robbers 
by  the  way  and  he  fought  the  sorest  of  battles  and  was 
slain.  The  goldsmith  buried  him  and  marked  his  grave* 
and  returned,  sorrowing  and  distraught  to  his  own  country, 
without  telling  any  of  the  prince's  death. 

To  return  to  the  king's  daughter  of  whom  the  prince 
went  in  quest  and  on  whose  account  he  was  slain.  She 
had  been  used  to  look  out  from  the  top  of  her  palace  and 
gaze  on  the  youth  and  on  his  beauty  and  grace ;  so  she 
said  to  her  slave-girl  one  day,  'Harkye!  What  is  come 
of  the  troops  that  were  encamped  beside  my  palace?' 
Quoth  the  maid,  'They  were  the  troops  of  the  youth, 
the  king's  son  of  the  Persians,  who  came  to  demand  thee 
in  marriage,  and  wearied  himself  on  thine  account,  but 
thou  hadst  no  compassion  on  him.'  *  Out  on  thee  ! '  cried 
the  princess.  'Why  didst  thou  not  tell  me?'  And  the 
damsel  answered,  'I  feared  thy  wrath.*  Then  she  sought 
an  audience  of  the  king  her  father  and  said  to  him, 
*  By  Allah,  I  will  go  in  quest  of  him,  even  as  he  came  in 
quest  of  me ,  else  should  I  not  do  him  justice.' 

*  With  a  pile  of  stones  or  some  such  landmark. 


26o 


So  she  made  ready  and  setting  out,  traversed  the  deserts 
and  spent  treasures  till  she  came  to  Sejestan,  where  she 
called  a  goldsmith  to  make  her  somewhat  of  trinkets. 
[Now  the  goldsmith  in  question  was  none  other  than  the 
prince's  friend];  so,  when  he  saw  her,  he  knew  her  (for 
that  the  prince  had  talked  with  him  of  her  and  had 
depictured  her  to  him)  and  questioned  her  of  her  case. 
She  acquainted  him  with  her  errand,  whereupon  he 
buffeted  his  face  and  rent  his  clothes  and  strewed  dust 
on  his  head  and  fell  a-weeping.  Quoth  she,  *Why  dost 
thou  thus  ? '  And  he  acquainted  her  with  the  prince's  case 
and  how  he  was  his  comrade  and  told  her  that  he  was 
dead;  whereat  she  grieved  for  him  and  faring  on  to  his 
father  and  mother,  [acquainted  them  with  the  case]. 

So  the  prince's  father  and  his  uncle  and  his  mother  and 
the  grandees  of  the  realm  repaired  to  his  tomb  and  the 
princess  made  lamentation  over  him,  crying  aloud.  She 
abode  by  the  tomb  a  whole  month;  then  she  let  fetch 
painters  and  caused  them  limn  her  portraiture  and  that  of 
the  king's  son.  Moreover,  she  set  down  in  writing  their 
story  and  that  which  had  befallen  them  of  perils  and 
afflictions  and  set  it  [together  with  the  pictures],  at  the 
head  of  the  tomb;  and  after  a  little,  they  departed  from 
the  place.  Nor,"  added  the  vizier,  "is  this  more  extra- 
ordinary, O  king  of  the  age,  than  the  story  of  the  fuller  and 
his  wife  and  the  trooper  and  what  passed  between  them." 


With  this  the  king  bade  the  vizier  go  away  to  his 
lodging,  and  when  he  arose  in  the  morning,  he  abode  his 
day  in  his  house. 


tS^t  &tbmt})  ^(5}ft  of  ffit  Mord% 

At  eventide  the  king  sat  [in  his  privy  sitting-chamber] 
and  sending  for  the  vizier,  said  to  him,  "Tell  me  the 
story  of  the  fuller  and  his  wife."  "With  all  my  heart," 
answered  the  vizier.  So  he  came  forward  and  saidj 
**  Know,  O  king  of  the  age,  that 

STORY   OF  THE   FULLER  AND   HIS  WIFE. 

There  was  once  in  a  certain  city  a  woman  fair  of  favour, 
who  had  to  lover  a  trooper.  Her  husband  was  a  fuller, 
and  when  he  went  out  to  his  business,  the  trooper  used  to 
come  to  her  and  abide  with  her  till  the  time  of  the  fuller's 
return,  when  he  would  go  away.  On  this  wise  they  abode 
awhile,  till  one  day  the  trooper  said  to  his  mistress,  '  I  mean 
to  take  me  a  house  near  unto  thine  and  dig  an  underground 
passage  from  my  house  to  thy  house,  and  do  thou  say  to  thy 
husband,  "  My  sister  hath  been  absent  with  her  husband 
and  now  they  have  returned  from  their  travels ;  and  I  have 
made  her  take  up  her  sojourn  in  my  neighbourhood,  so  I 
may  foregather  with  her  at  all  times.  So  go  thou  to  her 
husband  the  trooper  and  offer  him  thy  wares  [for  sale],  and 
thou  wilt  see  my  sister  with  him  and  wilt  see  that  she  is  I  and 
I  am  she,  without  doubt.  So,  Allah,  Allah,  go  to  my  sister's 
husband  and  give  ear  to  that  which  he  shall  say  to  thee."' 

Accordingly,  the  trooper  bought  him  a  house  near  at 
hand  and  made  therein  an  underground  passage  commu- 
nicating with  his  mistress's  house.  When  he  had  accom- 
plished his  affair,  the  wife  bespoke  her  husband  as    her 


262 

lover  had  lessoned  her  and  he  went  out  to  go  to  the 
trooper's  house,  but  turned  back  by  the  way,  whereupon 
quoth  she  to  hira,  *By  Allah,  go  forthright,  for  that  my 
sister  asketh  of  thee.'  So  the  dolt  of  a  fuller  went  out 
and  made  for  the  trooper's  house,  whilst  his  wife  forewent 
him  thither  by  the  secret  passage,  and  going  up,  sat  down 
beside  her  lover.  Presently,  the  fuller  entered  and  saluted 
the  trooper  and  his  [supposed]  wife  and  was  confounded 
at  the  coincidence  of  the  case.*  Then  doubt  betided  him 
and  he  returned  in  haste  to  his  dwelling;  but  she  forewent 
him  by  the  underground  passage  to  her  chamber  and 
donning  her  wonted  clothes,  sat  [waiting]  for  him  and 
said  to  him,  'Did  I  not  bid  thee  go  to  my  sister  and  salute 
her  husband  and  make  friends  with  them?*  Quoth  he, 
*  I  did  this,  but  I  misdoubted  of  my  affair,  when  I  saw  his 
wife.'  And  she  said,  *  Did  I  not  tell  thee  that  she  resem- 
bleth  me  and  I  her,  and  there  is  nought  to  distinguish 
between  us  but  our  clothes  ?    Go  back  to  her.' 

So,  of  the  heaviness  of  his  wit,  he  believed  her  and 
turning  back,  went  in  to  the  trooper;  but  she  had  fore- 
gone him,  and  when  he  saw  her  beside  her  lover,  he  fell 
to  looking  on  her  and  pondering.  Then  he  saluted  her 
and  she  returned  him  the  salutation ;  and  when  she  spoke, 
he  was  bewildered.  So  the  trooper  said  to  him,  *  What 
ails  thee  to  be  thus  ? '  And  he  answered,  *  This  woman  u 
my  wife  and  the  voice  is  her  voice.'  Then  he  rose  in 
haste  and  returning  to  his  own  house,  saw  his  wife,  who 
had  foregone  him  by  the  secret  passage.  So  he  went 
back  to  the  trooper's  house  and  saw  her  sitting  as  before ; 
^  iM  the  extraordinary  resemblance  of  the  supposed  sister  to  his  wife. 


263 

whereupon  he  was  abashed  before  her  and  sitting  down 
in  the  trooper's  sitting-chamber,  ate  and  drank  with  him 
and  became  drunken  and  abode  without  sense  all  that  day 
till  nightfall,  when  the  trooper  arose  and  shaving  off  some 
of  the  fuller's  hair  (which  was  long  and  flowing)  after  the 
fashion  of  the  Turks,  clipped  the  rest  short  and  clapped  a 
tarboush  on  his  head. 

Then  he  thrust  his  feet  into  boots  and  girt  him  with  a 
sword  and  a  girdle  and  bound  about  his  middle  a  quiver 
and  a  bow  and  arrows.  Moreover,  he  put  money  in  his 
pocket  and  thrust  into  his  sleeve  letters-patent  addressed 
to  the  governor  of  Ispahan,  bidding  him  assign  to  Rustem 
Khemartekeni  a  monthly  allowance  of  a  hundred  dirhems 
an'  ten  pounds  of  bread  and  five  pounds  of  meat  and 
enrol  him  among  the  Turks  under  his  commandment. 
Then  he  took  him  up  and  carrying  him  forth,  left  him 
in  one  of  the  mosques. 

The  fuller  gave  not  over  sleeping  till  sunrise,  when  he 
awoke  and  finding  himself  in  this  plight,  misdoubted  of 
his  afifair  and  imagined  that  he  was  a  Turk  and  abode 
putting  one  foot  forward  and  drawing  the  other  back. 
Then  said  he  in  himself,  *I  will  go  to  my  dwelling,  and 
if  my  wife  know  me,  then  am  I  Ahmed  the  fuller  j  but,  if 
she  know  me  not,  I  am  a  Turk.'  So  he  betook  himself  to 
his  house ;  but  when  the  artful  baggage  his  wife  saw  him, 
she  cried  out  in  his  face,  saying,  *  Whither  away,  O  trooper  ? 
Wilt  thou  break  into  the  house  of  Ahmed  the  fuller,  and  he 
a  man  of  repute,  having  a  brother-in-law  a  Turk,  a  man  of 
high  standing  with  the  Sultan  ?  An  thou  depart  not,  I  will 
acquaint  my  husband  and  he  will  requite  thee  thy  deed.' 


264 

When  he  heard  her  words,  the  dregs  of  the  drunkenness 
wrought  in  him  and  he  imagined  that  he  was  indeed  a 
Turk.  So  he  went  out  from  her  and  putting  his  hand  to 
his  sleeve,  found  therein  a  scroll  and  gave  it  to  one  who 
read  it  to  him.  When  he  heard  that  which  was  written  in 
the  scroll,  his  mind  was  confirmed  in  the  false  supposition ; 
but  he  said  in  himself,  *  Maybe  my  wife  seeketh  to  put  a 
cheat  on  me ;  so  I  will  go  to  my  fellows  the  fullers ;  and 
if  they  know  me  not,  then  am  I  for  sure  Khemartekeni  the 
Turk.'  So  he  betook  himself  to  the  fullers  and  when  they 
espied  him  afar  oflf,  they  thought  that  he  was  one  of  the 
Turks,  who  used  to  wash  their  clothes  with  them  with- 
out payment  and  give  them  nothing. 

Now  they  had  complained  of  them  aforetime  to  the 
Sultan,  and  he  said,  '  If  any  of  the  Turks  come  to  you, 
pelt  them  with  stones.'  So,  when  they  saw  the  fuller, 
they  fell  upon  him  with  sticks  and  stones  and  pelted  him ; 
whereupon  quoth  he  [in  himself],  *  Verily,  I  am  a  Turk 
and  knew  it  not.'  Then  he  took  of  the  money  in  his 
pocket  and  bought  him  victual  [for  the  journey]  and  hired 
a  hackney  and  set  out  for  Ispahan,  leaving  his  wife  to  the 
trooper.  Nor,"  added  the  vizier,  "is  this  more  extra- 
ordinary than  the  story  of  the  merchant  and  the  old 
woman  an4  the  king." 


The  vizier's  story  pleased  King  Shah  Bekht  and  his 
heart  clave  to  the  story  of  the  merchant  and  the  old 
woman ;  so  he  bade  Er  Rehwan  withdraw  to  his  lodging 
and  he  went  away  to  his  house  and  abode  there  the 
next  day. 


When  the  evening  evened,  the  king  sat  in  his  privy 
chamber  and  bade  fetch  the  vizjer,  who  presented  himself 
before  him,  and  the  king  required  of  him  the  promised 
story.  So  the  vizier  answered,  "  With  all  my  heart  Know, 
O  king,  that 

STORY  OF  THE  OLD  WOMAN,  THE  MERCHANT 
AND  THE  KING. 

There  was  once  in  a  city  of  Khorassan  a  family  of 
affluence  and  distinction,  and  the  townsfolk  used  to  envy 
them  for  that  which  God  had  vouchsafed  them.  As  time 
went  on,  their  fortune  ceased  from  them  and  they  passed 
away,  till  there  remained  of  them  but  one  old  woman. 
When  she  grew  feeble  and  decrepit,  the  townsfolk 
succoured  her  not  with  aught,  but  put  her  forth  of  the 
city,  saying,  '  This  old  woman  shall  not  harbour  with  us, 
for  that  we  do  her  kindness  and  she  requiteth  us  with 
eviL'  So  she  took  shelter  in  a  ruined  place  and  strangers 
used  to  bestow  alms  upon  her,  and  on  this  wise  she  abode 
a  while  of  time. 

Now  the  uncle's  son  of  the  king  of  the  city  had  afore- 
time disputed  [the  kingship]  with  him,  and  the  people 
misliked  the  king;  but  God  the  Most  High  decreed  that 
he  should  get  the  better  of  his  cousin.  However,  jealousy 
of  him  abode  in  his  heart  and  he  acquainted  the  vizier, 


266 

who  hid  it  not  and  sent  [him]  money.  Moreover,  he 
fell  to  summoning  [all  strangers  who  came  to  the  town], 
man  after  man,  and  questioning  them  of  their  faith  and 
their  worldly  estate,  and  whoso  answered  him  not  [to 
his  liking],  he  took  his  good.*  Now  a  certain  wealthy 
man  of  the  Muslims  was  on  a  journey  and  it  befell  that 
he  arrived  at  that  city  by  night,  unknowing  what  was 
to  do,  and  coming  to  the  ruin  aforesaid,  gave  the  old 
woman  money  and  said  to  her,  *No  harm  upon  thee.' 
Whereupon  she  lifted  up  her  voice  and  prayed  [for  him]. 
He  set  down  his  merchandise  by  her  [and  abode  with 
her]  the  rest  of  the  night  and  the  next  day. 

Now  thieves  had  followed  him,  so  they  might  rob  him 
oi  his  good,  but  availed  not  unto  aught;  wherefore  he 
went  up  to  the  old  woman  and  kissed  her  head  and 
exceeded  in  munificence  to  her.  Then  she  [warned  him 
of  that  which  awaited  strangers  entering  the  town  and] 
said  to  him,  *  I  like  not  this  for  thee  and  I  fear  mischief 
for  thee  from  these  questions  that  the  vizier  hath  ap- 
pointed for  the  confrontation  of  the  ignorant.'  And  she 
expounded  to  him  the  case  according  to  its  fashion. 
Then  said  she  to  him,  '  But  have  no  concern :  only  carry 
me  with  thee  to  thy  lodging,  and  if  he  question  thee 
of  aught,  whilst  I  am  with  thee,  I  will  expoimd  the 
answers  to  thee.'  So  he  carried  her  with  him  to  the 
city  and  established  her  in  his  lodging  and  entreated 
her  kindly. 

*  The  forgoing  passage  is  evidently  very  compt  and  the  meaning  is 
by  no  means  plain,  but,  in  the  absence  of  a  parallel  version,  it  is  ink* 
possible  to  clear  up  the  obscurity  of  the  text. 


267 

Presently,  the  vizier  heard  of  the  merchant's  coming; 
80  he  sent  to  him  and  let  bring  him  to  his  house  and 
talked  with  him  awhile  of  his  travels  and  of  that  which  he 
had  abidden  therein,  and  the  merchant  answered  him 
thereof.  Then  said  the  vizier,  '  I  will  put  certain  questions 
to  thee,  which  if  thou  answer  me,  it  will  be  well  [for 
thee].*  And  the  merchant  rose  and  made  him  no  answer. 
Quoth  the  vizier,  '  What  is  the  weight  of  the  elephant  ?' 
The  merchant  was  perplexed  and  returned  him  no  answer 
and  gave  himself  up  for  lost  Then  said  he,  'Grant  me 
three  days'  time.'  So  the  vizier  granted  him  the  delay  he 
sought  and  he  returned  to  his  lodging  and  related  what 
had  passed  to  the  old  woman,  who  said,  *  When  the  morrow 
Cometh,  go  to  the  vizier  and  say  to  him,  "  Make  a  ship  and 
launch  it  on  the  sea  and  put  in  it  an  elephant,  and  when 
it  sinketh  in  the  water,  [under  the  beast's  weight],  mark 
the  place  to  which  the  water  riseth.  Then  take  out  the 
elephant  and  cast  in  stones  in  its  place,  till  the  ship  sink 
to  the  mark  aforesaid;  whereupon  do  thou  take  out  the 
stones  and  weigh  them  and  thou  wilt  know  the  weight 
of  the  elephant" ' 

So,  when  he  arose  in  the  morning,  he  repaired  to  the 
vizier  and  repeated  to  him  that  which  the  old  woman  had 
taught  him ;  whereat  the  vizier  marvelled  and  said  to  him, 
*What  sayst  thou  of  a  man,  who  seeth  in  his  house  four 
holes,  and  in  each  a  viper  ofiFering  to  come  out  and  kill 
him,  and  in  his  house  are  four  staves  and  each  hole  may 
not  be  stopped  but  with  the  ends  of  two  staves  ?  How 
shall  he  stop  all  the  holes  and  deliver  himself  from  the 
vipers?'    When  the  merchant   heard  this,  there  betided 


268 

him  [of  concern]  what  made  him  forget  the  first  and  he 
said  to  the  vizier,  '  Grant  me  time,  so  I  may  consider  the 
answer/  '  Go  out,'  replied  the  vizier,  '  and  bring  me  the 
answer,  or  I  will  seize  thy  good.' 

The  merchant  went  out  and  returned  to  the  old 
woman,  who,  seeing  him  changed  of  colour,  said  to  him, 
*What  did  he  ask  thee,  [may  God  confound]  his  hoari- 
ness  ? '  So  he  acquainted  her  with  the  case  and  she  said 
to  him,  *  Fear  not ;  I  will  bring  thee  forth  of  this  [strait].' 
Quoth  he,  *  God  requite  thee  with  good  I '    And  she  said, 

*  To-morrow  go  to  him  with  a  stout  heart  and  say,  "  The 
answer  to  that  whereof  thou  askest  me  is  that  thou  put  the 
heads  of  two  staves  into  one  of  the  holes ;  then  take  the 
other  two  staves  and  lay  them  across  the  middle  of  the  first 
two  and  stop  with  their  heads  the  second  hole  and  with 
their  butts  the  fourth  hole.  Then  take  the  butts  of  the 
first  two  staves  and  stop  with  them  the  third  hole."'* 

So  he  repaired  to  the  vizier  and  repeated  to  hun  the 
answer ;  and  he  marvelled  at  its  justness  and  said  to  him, 

*  Go ;  by  Allah,  I  will  ask  thee  no  more  questions,  for  thou 
with  thy  skill  marrest  my  foundation.'*  Then  he  entreated 
him  friendly  and  the  merchant  acquainted  him  with  the 
affair  of  the  old  woman;    whereupon  quoth  the  vizier, 

*  Needs  must  the  man   of  understanding    company  with 

^  This  appears  to  be  the  sense  of  the  text  {  bnt  the  whole  passage  is 
to  obscnie  and  oorrnpt  that  h  is  impossible  to  make  sure  of  its  exact 
meaning. 

•  Meaning  apparently,  "  thou  puttest  my  devices  to  nought "  or 
(perhaps)  "  thou  art  so  skilful  that  I  fear  lest  thou  undermine  my  favour 
with  the  king  and  oust  me  from  my  post  of  vizier." 


269 

those  of  understanding/  Thus  did  this  weak  woman 
restore  to  that  man  his  life  and  good  on  the  easiest  wise. 
Nor,"  added  the  vizier,  "is  this  more  extraordinaxy  than 
the  story  of  the  credulous  husband." 


When  the  king  heard  this  story,  he  said,  "  How  like  is 
this  to  our  own  case ! "  Then  he  bade  the  vizier  retire  to 
his  lodging;  so  he  withdrew  to  his  house  and  on  the 
morrow  he  abode  at  home  [till  the  king  should  fiimmon 
him  to  his  presence] 


QTlie  iaCnt^  Mobi  at  tfje  i^ant|. 

When  the  night  came,  the  king  sat  in  his  privy  chamber 
and  sending  afler  the  vizier,  sought  of  him  the  promised 
story;  and  he  said,  *'  Know,  O  august  king,  that 


STORY  OF  THE  CREDULOUS  HUSBANa 

There  was  once  of  old  time  a  foolish,  ignorant  man, 
who  had  wealth  galore,  and  his  wife  was  a  fair  woman, 
who  loved  a  handsome  youth.  The  latter  used  to  watch 
for  her  husband's  absence  and  come  to  her,  and  on  this 
wise  he  abode  a  long  while.  One  day,  as  the  woman  was 
private  with  her  lover,  he  said  to  her,  *  O  my  lady  and  my 
beloved,  if  thou  desire  me  and  love  me,  give  me  posses- 
sion of  thyself  and  accomplish  my  need  in  thy  husband's 
presence ;  else  will  I  never  again  come  to  thee  nor  draw 
near  thee,  what  while  I  abide  on  life.'  Now  she  loved 
him  with  an  exceeding  love  and  could  not  brook  his 
separation  an  hour  nor  could  endure  to  vex  him;  so, 
when  she  heard  his  words,  she  said  to  him,  [*  So  be  it,]  in 
God's  name,  O  my  beloved  and  solace  of  mine  eyes,  may 
he  not  live  who  would  vex  thee  I '  Quoth  he,  *  To-day  ? ' 
And  she  said,  '  Yes,  by  thy  life,'  and  appointed  him  of  this. 

When  her  husband  came  home,  she  said  to  him,  *I 
desire  to  go  a-pleasuring.*  And  he  said,  'With  all  my 
heart.'  So  he  went,  till  he  came  to  a  goodly  place, 
abounding  in  vines  and  water,  whither  he  carried  her  and 


271 

pitched  her  a  tent  beside  a  treat  tree;  and  she  betook 
herself  to  a  place  beside  the  tent  and  made  her  there  an 
underground  hiding-place,  [in  which  she  hid  her  lover]. 
Then  said  she  to  her  husband,  *I  desire  to  mount  this 
tree.'  And  he  said,  'Do  so.'  So  she  climbed  up  and 
when  she  came  to  the  top  of  the  tree,  she  cried  out  and 
buffeted  her  face,  saying,  '  Lewd  fellow  that  thou  art,  are 
these  thy  usages?  Thou  sworest  [fidelity  to  me]  and 
liedst.'    And  she  repeated  her  speech  twice  and  thrice. 

Then  she  came  down  from  the  tree  and  rent  her  clothes 
and  said,  *0  villain,  if  these  be  thy  dealings  with  me 
before  my  eyes,  how  dost  thou  when  thou  art  absent 
from  me?'  Quoth  he,  'What  aileth  thee?'  and  she 
said,  *  I  saw  thee  swive  the  woman  before  my  very  eyes.* 

*  Not  so,  by  Allah ! '  cried  he.  *  But  hold  thy  peace  till 
I  go  up  and  see.*  So  he  climbed  the  tree  and  no  sooner 
did  he  begin  to  do  so  than  up  came  the  lover  [from  his 
hiding-place]  and  taking  the  woman  by  the  legs,  [fell  to 
Bwiving  her].  When  the  husband  came  to  the  top  of 
the  tree,  he  looked  and  beheld  a  man  swiving  his  wife. 
So  he  said,  *0  strumpet,  what  doings  are  these?'  And 
he  made  haste  to  come  down  from  the  tree  to  the  ground ; 
[but  meanwhile  the  lover  had  returned  to  his  hiding- 
place]  and  his  wife  said  to  him,  'What  sawest  thou?' 

*  I  saw  a  man  swive  thee,*  answered  he ;  and  she  said, 
*Thou  liest;  thou  sawest  nought  and  sayst  this  but  of 
conjecture.* 

On  this  wise  they  did  three  times,  and  every  time  [he 
climbed  the  tree]  the  lover  came  up  out  of  the  underground 
place  and  bestrode  her;  whilst  her  husband  looked  on  and 


27a 

sbp  sHll  said,  *0  liar,  seest  thou  aught?*  'Yes,*  would 
he  answer  and  came  down  in  haste,  but  saw  no  one  and 
she  said  to  him,  *  By  my  life,  look  and  say  nought  but 
the  truth!*  Then  said  he  to  her,  'Arise,  let  us  depart 
this  place,*  for  it  is  full  of  Jinn  and  Marids.*  [So  they 
returned  to  their  house]  and  passed  the  night  [there] 
and  the  man  arose  in  the  morning,  assured  that  this  was 
all  but  imagination  and  illusion.  And  so  the  lover  ac- 
complished his  desire.*  Nor,  O  king  of  the  age,"  added 
the  vizier,  "is  this  more  extraordinary  than  the  story  of 
the  king  and  the  tither.** 


When  the  king  heard  this  from  the  vizier,  he  bade  him 
go  away  [and  he  withdrew  to  his  house]. 

^  Lit.  "land ;"  bat  the  meaning  is  evidently  as  in  the  text. 
*  The  reader  will  recognize  the  well-kaown  stoiy  used  by  Chancer, 
Boccaccio  and  La  Fontaine. 


I 


When  it  was  eventide,  the  king  summoned  the  viziei 
and  sought  of  him  the  story  of  the  King  and  the  Tither, 
and  he  said,  "  Know,  O  king,  that 

STORY   OF   THE  UNJUST  KING  AND  THE 
TITHER. 

There  was  once  a  king  of  the  kings  of  the  earth,  who 
dwelt  in  a  populous*  city,  abounding  in  good ;  but  he 
oppressed  its  people  and  used  them  foully,  so  that  he 
ruined'  the  city;  and  he  was  named  none  other  than 
tyrant  and  misdoer.  Now  he  was  wont,  whenas  he  heard 
of  a  masterful  man'  in  another  land,  to  send  after  him 
and  tempt  him  with  money  to  take  service  with  him ;  and 
there  was  a  certain  tither,  who  exceeded  all  his  brethren 
m  oppression  of  the  people  and  foulness  of  dealing.  So 
the  king  sent  after  him  and  when  he  stood  before  him,  he 
found  him  a  mighty  man*  and  said  to  him,  '  Thou  hast 
been  praised  to  me,  but  meseemeth  thou  overpassest  the 
description.  Set  out  to  me  somewhat  of  thy  sayings  and 
doings,  so  I  may  be  dispensed  therewith  from  [enquiring 
into]  all  thy  circumstance.'  *  With  all  my  heart,'  answered 
the  other.  *Know,  O  king,  that  I  oppress  the  folk  and 
people'  the  land,  whilst  other  than  I  wasteth'  it  and 
peopleth  it  not' 

^  Syn.  flourishing.        ■  SyH.  depopulated.  •  Lit.  an  oppressor. 
*  i.e.  a  man  of  commanding  presence. 

'  Syn.  cause  flourish.  '  Syn.  depopulateth. 

VOL.  L  l8 


274 

Now  the  king  was  leaning  back ;  so  he  sat  up  and  said, 
'Tell  me  of  this.'  *It  is  well,'  answered  the  tither.  *I 
go  to  the  man  whom  I  purpose  to  tithe  and  circumvent 
him  and  feign  to  be  occupied  with  certain  business,  so 
that  I  seclude  myself  therewith  from  the  folk ;  and  mean-  ^ 
while  the  man  is  squeezed  after  the  foulest  fashion,  till 
nothing  is  left  him.  Then  I  appear  and  they  come  in  to 
me  and  questions  befall  concerning  him  and  I  say,  **  In- 
deed, I  was  ordered  worse  than  this,  for  some  one  (may 
God  curse  him  !)  hath  slandered  him  to  the  king."  Then 
I  take  half  of  his  good  and  return  him  the  rest  publicly 
before  the  folk  and  send  him  away  to  his  house,  in  all 
honour  and  worship,  and  he  causeth  the  money  returned 
to  be  carried  before  him,  whilst  he  and  all  who  are  with 
him  call  down  blessings  on  me.  So  is  it  published  in 
the  city  that  I  have  returned  him  his  money  and  he  him- 
self saith  the  like,  so  he  may  have  a  claim  on  me  for  the 
favour  due  to  whoso  praiseth  me.  Then  I  feign  to  forget 
him  till  some  time^  hath  passed  over  him,  when  I  send 
for  him  and  recall  to  him  somewhat  of  that  which  hath 
befallen  aforetime  and  demand  [of  him]  somewhat  privily. 
So  he  doth  this  and  hasteneth  to  his  dwelling  and  sendeth 
what  I  bid  him,  with  a  glad  heart.  Then  I  send  to  another 
man,  between  whom  and  the  other  is  enmity,  and  lay 
hands  upon  him  and  feign  to  the  first  man  that  it  is  he 
who  hath  traduced  him  to  the  king  and  taken  the  half 
of  his  good  ;  and  the  people  praise  me." 

*  Lit.  the  year. 

•  The  whole  of  the  tither's  account  of  himself  is  terribly  :  bscnre  and 
■o  corrupt  that  it  is  hardly  pt^ssible  to  make  sense  of  it.    The 
remark  applies  to  much  of  the  rest  of  the  story. 


275 

The  king  marvelled  at  this  and  at  his  dealing  and  con- 
trivance and  invested  him  with  [the  control  of]  all  his 
affairs  and  of  his  kingdom  and  the  land  abode  [under  his 
governance]  and  he  said  to  him,  'Take  and  people.'* 
One  day,  the  tither  went  out  and  saw  an  old  man,  a  wood- 
cutter, and  with  him  wood ;  so  he  said  to  him,  '  Pay  a 
dirhem  tithe  for  thy  load.'  Quoth  the  old  man,  *  Behold, 
thou  killest  me  and  killest  my  family.'  'What  [meanest 
thou]?'  said  the  tither.  'Who  killeth  the  folk?'  And 
the  other  answered,  *If  thou  suffer  me  enter  the  city, 
I  shall  sell  the  wood  there  for  three  dirhems,  whereof 
I  will  give  thee  one  and  buy  with  the  other  two  what  will 
support  my  family;  but,  if  thou  press  me  for  the  tithe 
without  the  city,  the  load  will  sell  but  for  one  dirhem 
and  thou  wilt  take  it  and  I  shall  abide  without  food,  I 
and  my  family.  Indeed,  thou  and  I  in  this  circumstance 
are  like  unto  David  and  Solomon,  on  whom  be  peace  I ' 
['How  so?*  asked  the  tither,  and  the  woodcutter  said], 
'Know  that 

STORY  OF  DAVID   AND  SOLOMON. 

Certain  husbandmen  once  made  complaint  to  David 
(on  whom  be  peace!)  against  certain  owners  of  sheep, 
whose  flocks  had  fallen  upon  their  crops  by  night  and 
devoured  them,  and  he  bade  value  the  crops  [and  that  the 
shepherds  should  make  good  the  amount].  But  Solomon 
(on  whom  be  peace ! )  rose  and  said,  "  Nay,  but  let  the 
sheep  be  delivered  to  the  husbandmen,  so  they  may  take 
^  Or  "  cause  flourish." 


276 

their  milk  and  wool,  till  they  have  repaid  themselves  the 
value  of  their  crops;  then  let  the  sheep  retmn  to  thdr 
owners."  So  David  withdrew  his  own  ordinance  and 
caused  execute  that  of  Solomon ;  yet  was  David  no 
oppressor ;  but  Solomon's  judgment  was  more  pertinent 
and  he  showed  himself  therein  better  versed  in  juris- 
prudence.'* 


When  the  tither  heard  the  old  man's  speech,  he  relented 
towards  him  and  said  to  him,  '  O  old  man,  I  make  thee 
a  present  of  that  which  is  due  from  thee,  and  do  thou 
cleave  to  me  and  leave  me  not,  so  haply  I  may  get  of  thee 
profit  that  shall  do  away  from  me  my  errors  and  guide  me 
into  the  way  of  righteousness.*  So  the  old  man  followed 
him,  and  there  met  him  another  with  a  load  of  wood. 
Quoth  the  tither  to  him,  'Pay  what  is  due  from  thee.* 
And  he  answered,  *  Have  patience  with  me  till  to-morrow, 
for  I  owe  the  hire  of  a  house,  and  I  will  sell  another  load 
of  wood  and  pay  thee  two  days'  tithe.'  But  he  refused 
him  this  and  the  old  man  said  to  him,  '  If  thou  constrain 
him  unto  this,  thou  wilt  enforce  him  quit  thy  country,  for 
that  he  is  a  stranger  here  and  hath  no  domicile ;  and  if  he 
remove  on  account  of  one  dirhem,  thou  wilt  lose  [of  him] 
three  hundred  and  threescore  dirhems  a  year.  Thus  wilt 
thou  lose  the  much  in  keeping  the  little.'    Quoth  the  tither, 

'  Lit.  a  better  theol(^;ian.  The  Muslim  law  being  entirelj  based  on 
the  Koran  and  the  Traditions  of  the  Prophet,  the  terms  "  lawyer" 
and  "theologian"  ue  necessarily  ■jnonymoos  among  Mohammedan 
peoplea. 


277 

'l  give  him  a  dirhem  every  month  to  the  hire  of  his 

lodging.' 

Then  he  went  on  and  presently  there  met  him  a  third 
woodcutter  and  he  said  to  him,  'Pay  what  is  due  from 
thee.'  And  he  answered,  'I  will  pay  thee  a  dirhem^ 
when  I  enter  the  city ;  or  take  of  me  four  danics*  [now].' 
Quoth  the  tither,  *  I  will  not  do  it,*  but  the  old  man  said 
to  him,  'Take  of  him  the  four  danics  presently,  for  it  is 
easy  to  take  and  hard  to  restore.'  '  By  Allah,'  quoth  the 
tither,  '  it  is  good ! '  and  he  arose  and  went  on,  crying 
out,  at  the  top  of  his  voice  and  saying,  '  I  have  no  power 
to-day  [to  do  evil].'  Then  he  put  off  his  clothes  and  went 
forth  wandering  at  a  venture,  repenting  unto  his  Lord. 
Nor,"  added  the  vizier,  "is  this  story  more  extraordinary 
than  that  of  the  thief  who  believed  the  woman  and  sought 
refuge  with  God  against  falling  in  with  her  like,  by  reason 
of  her  cunning  contrivance  for  herself." 


When  the  king  heard  this,  he  said  in  himself,  "Since 
the  tither  repented,  in  consequence  of  the  admonitions 
[of  the  woodcutter],  it  behoves  that  I  spare  this  vizier, 
so  I  may  hear  the  story  of  the  thief  and  the  woman." 
And  he  bade  Er  Rehwan  withdraw  to  his  lodging. 

a  A  dauic  is  the  sixth  of  a  dirhem,  ia.  about  one  penny. 


CTfre  Slebmt!)  Hi^  at  t\)t  Mant% 

When  the  evening  came  and  the  king  sat  in  his  privy 
chamber,  he  summoned  the  vizier  and  required  of  him 
the  story  of  the  thief  and  the  woman.  Quoth  the  vizier, 
"  Know,  O  king,  that 

STORY  OF  THE  THIEF  AND  THE  WOMAN. 

A  certain  thief  was  a  [cunning]  workman  and  used  not 
to  steal  aught,  till  he  had  spent  all  that  was  with  him; 
moreover,  he  stole  not  from  his  neighbours,  neither 
companied  with  any  of  the  thieves,  lest  some  one  should 
come  to  know  him  and  his  case  get  wind.  On  this  wise 
he  abode  a  great  while,  in  flourishing  case,  and  his  secret 
was  concealed,  till  God  the  Most  High  decreed  that  he 
broke  in  upon  a  poor  man,  deeming  that  he  was  rich. 
When  he  entered  the  house,  he  found  nought,  whereat  he 
was  wroth,  and  necessity  prompted  him  to  wake  the  man, 
who  was  asleep  with  his  wife.  So  he  aroused  him  and 
said  to  him,  *  Show  me  thy  treasure.* 

Now  he  had  no  treasure;  but  the  thief  believed  him 
not  and  insisted  upon  him  with  threats  and  blows.  When 
he  saw  that  he  got  no  profit  of  him,  he  said  to  him, 
'Swear  by  the  oath  of  divorce  from  thy  wife*  [that  thou 

^  i^.  say,  "  May  I  be  [triply]  divorced  from  my  wife,  if  etc.  I"  By  the 
Muslim  law,  a  divorce  three  times  pronounced  is  irrevocable,  and  in 
case  of  its  appearing  that  the  user  of  such  an  oath  as  the  above  had 
sworn  falsely,  his  wife  would  become  divorced  by  operation  of  iaw, 
without  further  ceremony.  Hence  the  frequency  and  binding  nature  of 
the  oath  in  question. 


279 

hast  nothing].*  So  he  swore  and  his  wife  said  to  him, 
'Out  on  thee!  Wilt  thou  divorce  me?  Is  not  the 
treasure  buried  in  yonder  chamber?'  Then  she  turned 
to  the  thief  and  conjured  him  to  multiply  blows  upon 
her  husband,  till  he  should  deliver  to  him  the  treasure, 
concerning  which  he  had  sworn  falsely.  So  he  drubbed 
him  grievously,  till  he  carried  him  to  a  certain  chamber, 
wherein  she  signed  to  him  that  the  treasure  was  and  that 
he  should  take  it  up. 

So  the  thief  entered,  he  and  the  husband;  and  when 
they  were  both  in  the  chamber,  she  locked  on  them  the 
door,  which  was  a  stout  one,  and  said  to  the  thief,  '  Out 
on  thee,  O  fool !  Thou  hast  fallen  [into  the  trap]  and 
now  I  have  but  to  cry  out  and  the  officers  of  the  police 
will  come  and  take  thee  and  thou  wilt  lose  thy  life,  O 
Satan ! '  Quoth  he,  *  Let  me  go  forth ; '  and  she  said,  *  Thou 
art  a  man  and  I  am  a  woman ;  and  in  thy  hand  is  a  knife 
and  I  am  afraid  of  thee.'  Quoth  he,  'Take  the  knife 
from  me.'  So  she  took  the  knife  from  him  and  said  to 
her  husband,  '  Art  thou  a  woman  and  he  a  man  ?  Mar  his 
nape  with  beating,  even  as  he  did  with  thee;  and  if  he 
put  out  his  hand  to  thee,  I  will  cry  out  and  the  police 
will  come  and  take  him  and  cut  him  in  sunder.'  So  the 
husband  said  to  him,  *0  thousand-horned,^  O  dog,  O 
traitor,  I  owe  thee  a  deposit,*  for  which  thou  dunnest  me.' 
And  he  fell  to  beating  him  grievously  with  a  stick  of 
live-oak,  whilst  he  called  out  to  the  woman  for  help  and 
besought  her  of  deliverance;  but  she  said,  'Abide  in  thy 

^  i^.  thousandfold  cuckold. 

'  i^.  the  blows  which  the  thief  had  given  him. 


28o 


place  till  the  morning,  and  thou  shalt  see  wonders.'  And 
her  husband  beat  him  within  the  chamber,  till  he  [well- 
nigh]  made  an  end  of  him  and  he  swooned  away. 

Then  he  left  beating  him  and  when  the  thief  came  to 
himself,  the  woman  said   to  her  husband,   'O  man,  this 
house  is  on  hire  and  we  owe  its  owners  much  money,  and 
we  have  nought;  so  how  wilt  thou  do?*    And  she  went 
on  to  bespeak  him  thus.     Quoth  the  thief,  'And  what  is 
the  amount  of  the  rent?'     *It  will  be  fourscore  dirhems,' 
answered  the  husband ;  and  the  thief  said,  '  I  will  pay  this 
for  thee  and  do  thou  let  me  go  my  way.'    Then  said  the 
wife,  *0  man,  how  much  do  we  owe  the  baker  and  the 
greengrocer?'     Quoth   the    thie^    'What    is  the   sum  of 
this?'     And  the  husband  said,  'Sixscore  dirhems.'    'That 
makes  two  hundred  dirhems,'  rejoined  the  other ;  '  let  me 
go  my  way  and  I  will  pay  tliem.'    But  the  wife  said, '  O 
my  dear  one,  and  the  girl  groweth  up  and  needs  must  we 
marry  her  and  equip  her  and  [do]  what  else  is  needful* 
So  the  thief  said  to  the  husband,  'How  much  dost  thou 
want?'    And  he  answered,   'A  hundred  dirhems,  in  the 
way  of   moderation.'*      Quoth    the    thief,   'That    makes 
three  hundred  dirhems.'     And  the  woman  said,  'O  my 
dear  one,  when  the  girl  is  married,  thou  wilt  need  money 
for  winter    expenses,  charcoal  and    firewood   and  other 
necessaries.'      'What    wouldst    thou    have?*     asked    the 
thief;  and  she  said,  'A  hundred  dirhems.'     'Be  it  four 
hundred  dirhems,'  rejoined  he;    and  she  said,   'O    my 
dear   one    and    solace    of   mine    eyes,    needs   must    my 
husband  have  capital  in   hand,   wherewith  he  may  buy 
^  i.i.  at  least,  at  the  most  moderate  reckoning. 


2bl 


merchandise  and  open  him  a  shop/  *How  much  will 
that  be?'  asked  he,  and  she  said,  'A  hundred  dirhems.' 
Quoth  the  thief,  '[That  makes  five  hundred  dirhems;  I 
will  pay  it ;]  but  may  I  be  divorced  from  my  wife  if  all 
my  possessions  amount  to  more  than  this,  and  that  the 
savings  of  twenty  years !  Let  me  go  my  way,  so  I  may 
deliver  them  to  thee.'  *  O  fool,'  answered  she,  *  how  shall 
I  let  thee  go  thy  way  ?  Give  me  a  right  token.'  [So  he 
gave  her  a  token  for  his  wife]  and  she  cried  out  to  her 
young  daughter  and  said  to  her,  '  Keep  this  door.' 

Then  she  charged  her  husband  keep  watch  over  the 
thief,  till  she  should  return,  and  repairing  to  his  wife,  ac- 
quainted her  with  his  case  and  told  her  that  her  husband 
the  thief  had  been  taken  and  had  compounded  for  his 
release,  at  the  price  of  seven  hundred  dirhems,  and  named 
to  her  the  token.  So  she  gave  her  the  money  and  she 
took  it  and  returned  to  her  house.  By  this  time,  the 
dawn  had  broken;  so  she  let  the  thief  go  his  way,  and 
when  he  went  out,  she  said  to  him,  'O  my  dear  one, 
when  shall  I  see  thee  come  and  take  the  treasure?'  'O 
indebted  one,'  answered  he,  'when  thou  needest  other 
seven  hundred  dirhems,  wherewithal  to  amend  thy  case 
and  that  of  thy  children  and  to  discharge  thy  debts.'  And 
he  went  out,  hardly  believing  in  his  deliverance  from  her. 
Nor,"  added  the  vizier,  "is  this  more  extraordinary  than 
the  story  of  the  three  men  and  our  Lord  Jesus." 


And  the  king  bade  him  depart  to  his  own  house. 


C!)e  dTtnelftfj  lafgfjt  of  tfje  fHontfj. 

When  it  was  eventide,  the  king  summoned  the  viziei 
and  bade  him  tell  the  [promised]  story.  "  Hearkening  and 
obedience,"  answered  he.     "  Know,  O  king,  that 


STORY    OF    THE    THREE    MEN    AND    OUR 
LORD   JESUS. 

Three  men  once  went  out  in  quest  of  riches  and  came 
upon  a  block  of  gold,  weighing  a  hundred  pounds.  When 
they  saw  it,  they  took  it  up  on  their  shoulders  and  fared 
on  with  it,  till  they  drew  near  a  certain  city,  when  one  of 
them  said,  'Let  us  sit  in  the  mosque,  whilst  one  of  us  goes 
and  buys  us  what  we  may  eat.'  So  they  sat  down  in  the 
mosque  and  one  of  them  arose  and  entered  the  city. 
When  he  came  therein,  his  soul  prompted  him  to  play  his 
fellows  false  and  get  the  gold  for  himself  alone.  So  he 
bought  food  and  poisoned  it  j  but,  when  he  returned  to  his 
comrades,  they  fell  upon  him  and  slew  him,  so  they  might 
enjoy  the  gold  without  him.  Then  they  ate  of  the 
[poisoned]  food  and  died,  and  the  gold  abode  cast  down 
over  against  them. 

Presently,  Jesus,  son  of  Mary  (on  whom  be  peace !) 
passed  by  and  seeing  this,  besought  God  the  Most  High 
for  tidings  of  their  case ;  so  He  told  him  what  had  betided 
them,  whereat  great  was  his  wonderment  and  he  related  to 


283 

bis  disciples  what  he  had  seen.  Quoth  one  of  them, 
*0  Spirit  of  God/  nought  resembleth  this  but  ray  own 
stoiy.'    '  How  so  ? '  asked  Jesus,  and  the  other  said, 


THE  DISCIPLE'S   STORY. 

*I  was  aforetime  in  such  a  city  and  hid  a  thousand 
dirhems  in  a  monastery  there.  After  awhile,  I  went 
thither  and  taking  the  money,  bound  it  about  my  middle. 
[Then  I  set  out  to  return]  and  when  I  came  to  the  desert, 
the  carrying  of  the  money  was  burdensome  to  me. 
Presently,  I  espied  a  horseman  pricking  after  raej  so 
I  [waited  till  he  came  up  and]  said  to  him,  "  O  horseman, 
carry  this  money  [for  me]  and  earn  reward  and  recompense 
[from  God]."  "Nay,"  answered  he;  "I  will  not  do  it, 
for  I  should  weary  myself  and  weary  my  horse."  Then 
he  went  on,  but,  before  he  had  gone  far,  he  said  in  himself 
"If  I  take  up  the  money  and  spur  my  horse  and  forego 
him,  how  shall  he  overtake  me?"  And  I  also  said  in 
myself,  "Verily,  I  erred  [in  asking  him  to  carry  the 
money] ;  for,  had  he  taken  it  and  made  ofl^  I  could  have 
done  nought"  Then  he  turned  back  to  me  and  said  to 
me,  "  Hand  over  the  money,  that  I  may  carry  it  for  thee." 
But  I  answered  him,  saying,  "That  which  hath  occurred 
to  thy  mind  hath  occurred  to  mine  also ;  so  go  in  peace." ' 

Quoth  Jesus  (on  whom  be  peace  1),  '  Had  these  dealt 
prudently,  they  had  taken  thought  for  themselves;  but 
they  neglected  the  issues  of  events ;  for  that  whoso  acteth 

^  Or  "  Breath  of  God,"  a  title  given  to  Jesus  by  the  Mohammedani 


284 

pradendy  is  safe  and  conquereth,i  and  whoso  neglecteth 
precaution  perisheth  and  repenteth.'  Nor,"  added  the 
vizier,  "is  this  more  extraordinary  nor  goodlier  than  the 
story  of  the  king,  whose  kingdom  was  restored  to  him  and 
his  wealth,  after  he  had  become  poor,  possessing  not  a 
single  dirhem.* 

When  the  king  heard  this,  he  said  in  himself  "How 
like  is  this  to  my  own  stoiy  in  the  matter  of  the  vizier  and 
his  slaughter  1  Had  I  not  used  precaution,  I  had  put  him 
to  death."  And  he  bade  Er  Rehwan  depart  to  his  own 
house. 

*  ittt  attaioeth  his  ^Trin 


8rf}f  2ri)frtfnitb  0fg5t  of  tlje  i^ontl. 

When  the  evening  evened,  the  king  sent  for  the  viziei 
to  his  privy  sitting  chamber  and  bade  him  [tellj  the 
[piomised]  story.  So  be  said,  "  Hearkening  and  obedi- 
ence.    They  avouch,  O  king,  that 


STORY  OF  THE  DETHRONED  KING  WHOSE 
KINGDOM  AND  GOOD  WERE  RESTORED 
TO  HIM. 

There  was  once,  in  a  city  of  Hind,  a  just  and  beneficent 
king,  and  he  had  a  vizier,  a  man  of  understanding,  just  in 
his  judgment,  praiseworthy  in  his  policy,  in  whose  hand 
was  the  governance  of  all  the  affairs  of  the  realm ;  for 
he  was  firmly  stablished  in  the  king's  favour  and  high 
in  esteem  with  the  folk  of  his  time,  and  the  king  set  great 
store  by  him  and  committed  himself  to  him  in  all  his 
afiairs,  by  reason  of  his  contrivance  for  his  subjects,  and 
he  had  helpers  *  who  were  content  with  him. 

Now  the  king  had  a  brother,  who  envied  him  and  would 
fain  have  been  in  his  place;  and  when  he  was  weary  of 
looking  for  his  death  and  the  term  of  his  life  seemed 
distant  unto  him,  he  took  counsel  with  certain  of  his 
partisans  and  they  said,  'The  vizier  is  the  king's  coun- 
sellor and  but  for  him,  there  would  be  left  the  king  no 
^  Sjm,  guards. 


2^6 

kingdom.'  So  the  king's  brother  cast  about  for  the  ruin 
of  the  vizier,  but  could  find  no  means  of  accomplishing 
his  design;  and  when  the  affair  grew  long  upon  him, 
he  said  to  his  wife,  'What  deemest  thou  will  advantage 
us  in  this?'  Quoth  she,  'What  is  it?'  And  he  replied, 
'  I  mean  in  the  matter  of  yonder  vizier,  who  inciteth  my 
brother  to  devoutness  with  all  his  might  and  biddeth 
him  thereto,  and  indeed  the  king  is  infatuated  with  his 
counsel  and  committeth  to  him  the  governance  of  all 
things  and  matters.'  Quoth  she,  'Thou  sayst  truly;  but 
how  shall  we  do  with  him?'  And  he  answered,  *I  have 
a  device,  so  thou  wilt  help  me  in  that  which  I  shall 
say  to  thee.'  Quoth  she,  'Thou  shalt  have  my  help  in 
whatsoever  thou  desirest.'  And  he  said,  'I  mean  to  dig 
him  a  pit  in  the  vestibule  and  dissemble  it  artfully.' 

So  he  did  this,  and  when  it  was  night,  he  covered  the 
pit  with  a  light  covering,  so  that,  whenas  the  vizier  stepped 
upon  it,  it  would  give  way  with  him.  Then  he  sent  to 
him  and  summoned  him  to  the  presence  in  the  king's 
name,  and  the  messenger  bade  him  enter  by  the  privy 
door.  So  he  entered  in  thereat,  alone,  and  when  he 
stepped  upon  the  covering  of  the  pit,  it  gave  way  with 
him  and  he  fell  to  the  bottom;  whereupon  the  king's 
brother  fell  to  pelting  him  with  stones.  When  the  vizier 
saw  what  had  be  tided  him,  he  gave  himself  up  for  lost; 
so  he  stirred  not  and  lay  stilL  The  prince,  seeing  him 
make  no  motion,  [deemed  him  dead];  so  he  took  him 
forth  and  wrapping  him  up  in  his  clothes,  cast  him  into 
the  billows  of  the  sea  in  the  middle  of  the  night.  When 
the  vizier  felt  the  water,  he  awoke  from  the  swoon  and 


287 

swam  awhile,  till  a  ship  passed  by  him,  whereupon  he 
cried  out  to  the  sailors  and  they  took  him  up. 

When  the  morning  morrowed,  the  people  went  seeking 
for  him,  but  found  him  not ;  and  when  the  king  knew  this, 
he  was  perplexed  concerning  his  affair  and  abode  unknow- 
ing what  he  should  do.  Then  he  sought  for  a  vizier  to 
fill  his  room,  and  the  king's  brother  said,  *  I  have  a  vizier, 
a  sufficient  man.'  '  Bring  him  to  me,'  said  the  king.  So 
he  brought  him  a  man,  whom  he  set  at  the  head  of  affairs ; 
but  he  seized  upon  the  kingdom  and  clapped  the  king  in 
irons  and  made  his  brother  king  in  his  stead.  The  new 
king  gave  himself  up  to  all  manner  of  wickedness,  where- 
at the  folk  murmured  and  his  vizier  said  to  him,  '  I  fear 
lest  the  Indians  take  the  old  king  and  restore  him  to  the 
kingship  and  we  both  perish ;  wherefore,  if  we  take  him 
and  cast  him  into  the  sea,  we  shall  be  at  rest  from  him  j 
and  we  will  publish  among  the  folk  that  he  is  dead.'  And 
they  agreed  upon  this.  So  they  took  him  up  and  carrying 
him  out  to  sea,  cast  him  in. 

When  he  felt  the  water,  he  struck  out,  and  gave  not 
over  swimming  till  he  landed  upon  an  island,  where  he 
abode  five  days,  findmg  nothing  which  he  might  eat  or 
drink ;  but,  on  the  sixth  day,  when  he  despaired  of  him- 
self, he  caught  sight  of  a  passing  ship;  so  he  made 
signals  to  the  crew  and  they  came  and  took  him  up  and 
fared  on  with  him  to  an  inhabited  country,  where  they  set 
him  ashore,  naked  as  he  was.  There  he  saw  a  man 
tilling ;  so  he  sought  guidance  of  him  and  the  husband- 
man said,  '  Art  thou  a  stranger  ? '  '  Yes,'  answered  the 
king  and  sat  with  him  and  they  talked.     The  husbandman 


288 


found  him  quickwitted  and  intelligent  and  said  to  him,  *  If 
(hou  sawest  a  comrade  of  mine,  thou  wouldst  see  him  the 
like  of  what  I  see  thee,  for  his  case  is  even  as  thy  case, 
and  he  is  presently  my  friend.* 

Quoth  the  king,  'Verily,  thou  makest  me  long  to  see 
him.  Canst  thou  not  bring  us  together  ? '  *  With  all  my 
heart,*  answered  the  husbandman,  and  the  king  sat  with 
him  till  he  had  mad?  an  end  of  his  tillage,  when  he  carried 
him  to  his  dwelling-place  and  brought  him  in  company 
with  the  other  stranger,  and  behold,  it  was  his  vizier. 
When  they  saw  each  other,  they  wept  and  embraced,  and 
the  husbandman  wept  for  their  weeping;  but  the  king 
concealed  their  affair  and  said  to  him,  'This  is  a  man 
from  my  country  and  he  is  as  my  brother.'  So  they  abode 
with  the  husbandman  and  helped  him  for  a  wage,  where- 
with they  supported  themselves  a  long  while.  Meanwhile, 
they  sought  news  of  their  country  and  learned  that  which 
its  people  suffered  of  straitness  and  oppression. 

One  day,  there  came  a  ship  and  in  it  a  merchant  from 
their  own  country,  who  knew  them  and  rejoiced  in  them 
with  an  exceeding  joy  and  clad  them  in  goodly  appareL 
Moreover,  he  acquainted  them  with  the  manner  of  the 
treachery  that  had  been  practised  upon  them  and 
counselled  them  to  return  to  their  own  land,  they  and 
he  with  whom  they  had  made  friends,^  assuring  them  that 
God  the  Most  High  would  restore  them  to  their  former 
estate.  So  the  king  returned  and  the  folk  joined  them- 
selves to  him  and  he  fell  upon  his  brother  and  his  vizier 
and  took  them  and  clapped  them  in  prison. 
*  i,e.  the  husbandoian. 


289 

Then  he  sat  down  again  upon  the  throne  of  his  kingship, 
whilst  the  vizier  stood  before  him,  and  they  returned  to 
their  former  estate,  but  they  had  nought  of  the  [goods 
of  the  world].  So  the  king  said  to  his  vizier,  *  How  shall 
we  avail  to  abide  in  this  city,  and  we  in  this  state  of 
poverty?'  And  he  answered,  *Be  at  thine  ease  and  have 
no  concern.'  Then  he  singled  out  one  of  the  soldiers » 
and  said  to  him,  'Send  us  thy  service'  for  the  year.'  Now 
there  were  in  the  city  fifty  thousand  subjects*  and  in  the 
hamlets  and  villages  a  like  number ;  and  the  vizier  sent  to 
each  of  these,  saying,  *  Let  each  of  you  get  an  egg  and  lay 
it  under  a  hen.'  So  they  did  this  and  it  was  neither 
burden  nor  grievance  to  them. 

When  twenty  days  had  passed  by,  each  [egg]  was 
hatched,  and  the  vizier  bade  them  pair  the  chickens, 
male  and  female,  and  rear  them  well.  So  they  did  this 
and  it  was  found  a  charge  unto  no  one.  Then  they 
waited  for  them  awhile  and  after  this  the  vizier  enquired 
of  the  chickens  and  was  told  that  they  were  become  fowls. 
Moreover,  they  brought  him  all  their  eggs  and  he  bade 
set  them ;  and  after  twenty  days  there  were  hatched  from 
each  [pair]  of  them  thirty  or  five-and-twenty  or  fifteen 
[chickens]  at  the  least.  The  vizier  let  note  against  each 
man  the  number  of  chickens  that  pertained  to  him,  and 
after  two  months,  he  took  the  old  hens  and  the  cockerels, 
and  there  came  to  him  from  each  man  nigh  half  a  score, 
and  he  left  the  [young]  hens  with  them.     On  like  wise  he 

*  u«.  those  bound  to  render  suit  and  service  to  the  king,  as  holden 
of  fiefs. 

*  Syn.  the  revenue  or  rent-charge  of  thy  fief.        '  Heads  of  families? 

▼ou  I.  19 


290 

lent  to  the  country  folk  and  let  the  cocks  abide  with  them. 
So  he  got  him  young  ones  [galore]  and  appropriated  to 
himself  the  sale  of  the  fowls,  and  on  this  wise  he  got  him, 
in  the  course  of  a  year,  that  which  the  regal  estate  re- 
quired of  the  king  and  his  affairs  were  set  right  for  him  by 
the  vizier's  contrivance.  And  he  peopled'  the  country 
and  dealt  justly  by  his  subjects  and  retmned  to  them  all 
that  he  took  from  them  and  lived  a  happy  and  prosperous 
life.  Thus  good  judgment  and  prudence  are  better  than 
wealth,  for  that  understanding  profiteth  at  all  times  and 
seasons.  Nor,"  added  the  vizier,  "is  this  more  extra- 
ordinary than  the  story  of  the  man  whose  caution  slew 
him." 


When  the  king  heard  his  vizier's  words,  he  marvelled 
with  the  utmost  wonderment  and  bade  him  retire  to  his 
lodging.  [So  £r  Rehwan  withdrew  to  his  house  and 
abode  there  till  eventide  of  the  next  day,  when  he  again 
pxesentixl  himself  before  the  king.] 

*  Or  "caased  fiourialu'' 


©bf  iFoortfentb  iSfg^t  at  tfje  ponf^ 

When  the  vizier  returned  to  the  king,  the  latter  sought 
of  him  the  story  of  the  man  whose  caution  slew  him  and 
be  said,  "  Know,  O  august  king,  that 

STORY  OF  THE   MAN   WHOSE    CAUTION  WAS 
THE  CAUSE  OF  HIS  DEATH. 

There  was  once  a  man  who  was  exceeding  cautious  over 
himself,  and  he  set  out  one  day  on  a  journey  to  a  land 
abounding  in  wild  beasts.  The  caravan  wherein  he  was 
came  by  night  to  the  gate  of  a  city;  but  the  warders 
refused  to  open  to  them ;  so  they  passed  the  night  without 
the  city,  and  there  were  lions  there.  The  man  aforesaid, 
of  the  excess  of  his  caution,  could  not  fix  upon  a  place 
wherein  he  should  pass  the  night,  for  fear  of  the  wild 
beasts  and  reptiles ;  so  he  went  about  seeking  an  empty 
place  wherein  he  might  lie. 

Now  there  was  a  mined  building  hard  by  and  he 
climbed  up  on  to  a  high  wall  and  gave  not  over  clamber- 
ing hither  and  thither,  of  the  excess  of  his  carefulness, 
till  his  feet  betrayed  him  and  he  slipped  [and  fell]  to 
the  bottom  and  died,  whilst  his  companions  arose  in 
the  morning  in  health  [and  weal].  Now,  if  he  had  over- 
mastered his  corrupt^  judgment  and  submitted  himself 
*  Or  £rowarcL 


292 

to  fete  and  fortune  fore-ordained,  it  had  been  safer  and 
better  [for  him];  but  he  made  light  of  the  folk  and 
belittled  their  wit  and  was  not  content  to  take  example 
by  them  ;  for  his  soul  whispered  him  that  he  was  a  man  of 
understanding  and  he  imagined  that,  if  he  abode  with 
them,  he  would  perish;  so  his  folly  cast  him  into 
perdition.  Nor,"  added  the  vizier,  "  is  this  more  extra- 
ordinary than  the  story  of  the  man  who  was  lavish  of  his 
house  and  his  victual  to  one  whom  he  knew  not" 


When  the  king  heard  this,  he  said,  "  I  will  not  isolate 
myself  from  the  folk  and  slay  my  vizier."  And  he  bade 
him  depart  to  bis  dwelling. 


Cljf  f  fftmttf)  fii^i  at  ^t  {Bmtt^ 

tVhen  the  evening  evened,  the  king  let  fetch  the  viziei 
u\d  required  oi  him  the  (promised]  story.  So  be  said, 
**  Know,  O  king,  that 

STORY  OF  THE  MAN  WHO  WAS  LAVISH  OF 
HIS  HOUSE  AND  HIS  VICTUAL  TO  ONE 
WHOM  HE  KNEW  NOT. 

There  was  once  an  Arab  of  [high]  rank  and  [goodly] 
presence,  a  man  of  exalted  generosity  and  magnanimity, 
and  he  had  brethren,  with  whom  he  consorted  and 
caroused,  and  they  were  wont  to  assemble  by  turns  in 
each  other's  houses.  When  it  came  to  his  turn,  he  made 
ready  in  his  house  all  manner  goodly  and  pleasant  meats 
and  dainty  drinks  and  exceeding  lovely  flowers  and 
excellent  fruits,  and  made  provision  of  all  kinds  of 
instruments  of  music  and  store  of  rare  apothegms  and 
marvellous  stories  and  goodly  instances  and  histories  and 
witty  anedotes  and  verses  and  what  not  else,  for  there  was 
none  among  those  with  whom  he  was  used  to  company 
but  enjoyed  this  on  every  goodly  wise,  and  in  the  enter- 
tainment he  had  provided  was  all  whereof  each  had  need. 
Then  he  sallied  forth  and  went  round  about  the  city, 
in  quest  of  his  friends,  so  he  might  assemble  them ;  but 
found  none  of  them  in  his  house. 

Now  in  that   town  was  a  man  of  good  breeding  and 


294 

large  generosity,  a  merchant  of  condition,  young  of  yean 
and  bright  of  face,  who  had  come  to  that  town  from  his 
own  country  with  great  store  of  merchandise  and  wealth 
galore.  He  took  up  his  abode  therein  and  the  place  was 
pleasant  to  him  and  he  was  lavish  in  expenditure,  so  that 
he  came  to  the  end  of  all  his  good  and  there  remained 
with  him  nothing  save  that  which  was  upon  him  of 
raiment  So  he  left  the  lodging  wherein  he  had  abidden 
in  the  days  of  his  affluence,  after  he  had  wasted*  that 
which  was  therein  of  fumitive,  and  fell  to  harbouring 
in  the  houses  of  the  townsfolk  from  night  to  night. 

One  day,  as  he  went  wandering  about  the  streets,  he 
espied  a  woman  of  the  utmost  beauty  and  grace,  and 
what  he  saw  of  her  charms  amazed  him  and  there  betided 
him  what  made  him  forget  his  present  plight.  She  ac- 
costed him  and  jested  with  him  and  he  besought  her  of 
foregathering  and  companionship.  She  consented  to  this 
and  said  to  him,  *  Let  us  go  to  thy  lodging.'  With  this 
he  repented  and  was  perplexed  concerning  his  afiair  and 
grieved  for  that  which  must  escape  him  of  her  company 
by  reason  of  the  straitness  of  his  hand,"  for  that  he  had 
no  jot  of  spending  money.  But  he  was  ashamed  to  say, 
*No,*  after  he  had  made  suit  to  her;  so  he  went  on 
before  her,  bethinking  him  how  he  should  rid  himself 
of  her  and  casting  about  for  an  excuse  which  he  might 
put  oflF  on  her,  and  gave  not  over  going  from  street  to 
street,  till  he  entered  one  that  had  no  issue  and  saw,  at 
the  farther  end,  a  door,  whereon  was  a  padlock. 

So  he  said  to    her,   '  Do    thou    excuse    me,    for    my 

^  i.t.  told  and  spent  the  price  of.    ■  ^«.  his  lack  of  means  to  entertain  her. 


295 

servant  hath  locked  the  door,  and  who  shall  open  to  as?' 
Quoth  she,  *0  my  lord,  the  padlocV  is  worth  [but]  half 
a  score  dirhems.'  So  saying,  she  tucked  up  [her  sleeves] 
from  fore-arms  as  they  were  crystal  and  taking  a  stone, 
smote  upon  the  padlock  and  broke  it  Then  she  opened 
the  door  and  said  to  him,  'Enter,  O  my  lord.'  So  he 
entered,  committing  his  affair  to  God,  (to  whom  belong 
might  and  majesty,)  and  she  entered  after  him  and  locked 
the  door  from  within.  They  foimd  themselves  in  a  pleasant 
house,  comprising  all  ^  weal  and  gladness ;  and  the  young 
man  went  on,  till  he  came  to  the  sitting-chamber,  and 
behold,  it  was  furnished  with  the  finest  of  furniture  [and 
arrayed  on  the  goodliest  wise  for  the  reception  of  guests,] 
OS  hath  before  been  set  out,  [for  that  it  was  the  house  of 
the  man  aforesaid]. 

He  [seated  himself  on  the  divan  and]  leant  upon  a 
cushion,  whilst  she  put  out  her  hand  to  her  veil  and  did  it 
ofl.  Then  she  put  off  her  heavy  outer  clothes  and  dis- 
covered her  charms,  whereupon  he  embraced  her  and 
kissed  her  and  swived  her ;  after  which  they  washed  and 
returned  to  their  place  and  he  said  to  her,  '  Know  that  I 
have  little  knowledge  [of  what  goes  on]  in  my  house,  for 
that  I  trust  to  my  servant ;  so  arise  thou  and  see  what  the 
boy  hath  made  ready  in  the  kitchen.'  Accordingly,  she 
arose  and  going  down  into  the  kitchen,  saw  cooking  pots 
over  the  fire,  wherein  were  all  manner  of  dainty  meats, 
and  manchet-bread  and  fresh  almond-and-honey  cakes. 
So  she  set  bread  on  a  dish  and  ladled  out  [what  she 
would]  firom  the  pots  and  brought  it  to  him. 
*  i.«.  all  that  can  conduce  to. 


296 

They  ate  and  drank  and  sported  and  made  merry  awhile 
of  the  day ;  and  as  they  were  thus  engaged,  up  came  the 
master  of  the  house,  with  his  friends,  whom  he  had 
brought  with  him,  that  they  might  carouse  together,  as  of 
wont  He  saw  the  door  opened  and  knocked  lightly, 
saying  to  his  friends,  '  Have  patience  with  me,  for  some 
of  my  family  are  come  to  visit  me;  wherefore  excuse 
belongeth  [first]  to  God  the  Most  High,  and  then  to  you.'* 
So  they  took  leave  of  him  and  went  their  ways,  whilst  he 
gave  another  light  knock  at  the  door.  When  the  young 
man  heard  this,  he  changed  colour  and  the  woman  said 
to  him,  'Methinks  thy  servant  hath  returned.'  'Yes,* 
answered  he ;  and  she  arose  and  opening  the  door  to  the 
master  of  the  hous^  said  to  him,  'Where  hast  thou  been? 
Indeed,  thy  master  is  wroth  with  thee.'  *0  my  lady,' 
answered  he,  'I  have  but  been  about  his  occasions. ' 

Then  he  girt  his  middle  with  a  handkerchief  and  enter- 
ing, saluted  the  young  merchant,  who  said  to  him,  '  Where 
hast  thou  been?'  Quoth  he,  '  I  have  done  thine  errands;' 
and  the  youth  said,  'Go  and  eat  and  come  hither  and 
drink.'  So  he  went  away,  as  he  bade  him,  and  ate.  Then 
he  washed  and  returning  to  the  saloon,  sat  down  on  the 
carpet  and  fell  to  talking  with  them;  whereupon  the 
young  merchant's  heart  was  comforted  and  his  breast 
dilated  and  he  addressed  himself  to  joyance.  They  abode 
in  the  most  delightsome  life  and  the  most  abounding 
pleasance  till  a  third  part  of  the  night  was  past,  when  the 
master  of  the  house  arose  and  spreading  them  a  bed, 
invited  them  to  He  down.  So  they  lay  down  and  the 
*  £«.  it  is  for  yoa  (after  God)  to  excuse  me. 


297 

youth  abode  on  wake,  pondering  their  affair,  till  daybreak, 
when  the  woman  awoke  and  said  to  her  companion,  '  1 
wish  to  go.'  So  he  bade  her  farewell  and  she  departed ; 
whereupon  the  master  of  the  house  followed  her  with  a 
purse  of  money  and  gave  it  to  her,  saying,  *  Blame  not 
my  master,'  and  made  his  excuse  to  her  for  the  young 
merchant 

Then  he  returned  to  the  youth  and  said  to  him,  '  Arise 
and  come  to  the  bath.'  And  he  fell  to  shampooing  his 
hands  and  feet,  whilst  the  youth  called  down  blessings  on 
him  and  said,  *0  my  lord,  who  art  thou?  Methinks  there 
is  not  in  the  world  the  like  of  thee,  no,  nor  a  pleasanter 
than  thy  composition.'  Then  each  of  them  acquainted 
the  other  with  his  case  and  condition  and  they  went  to 
the  bath;  after  which  the  master  of  the  house  conjured 
the  young  merchant  to  return  with  him  and  summoned  his 
friends.  So  they  ate  and  drank  and  he  related  to  them 
the  story,  wherefore  they  praised  the  master  of  the  house 
and  glorified  him;  and  their  friendship  was  complete, 
what  while  the  young  merchant  abode  in  the  town,  till 
God  vouchsafed  him  a  commodity  of  travel,  whereupon 
they  took  leave  of  him  and  he  departed ;  and  this  is  the 
end  of  his  story.  Nor,"  added  the  vizier,  "  O  king  of 
the  age,  is  this  more  marvellous  than  the  story  of  the  rich 
man  who  lost  his  wealth  and  his  wit" 


When  the  king  heard  the  vizier's  story,  it  pleased  hiro 
aud  he  bade  him  go  to  his  house. 


Cfie  ^fxteentl)  0i^t  of  ti)e  i^ont|. 

When  the  evening  evened,  the  king  sat  in  lis  sitting- 
chamber  and  sending  for  his  vizier,  bade  him  relate  the 
story  of  the  wealthy  man  who  lost  his  wealth  and  his  wit. 
So  he  said,  "  Know,  O  king,  that 

STORY  OF  THE  IDIOT  AND  THE  SHARPER. 

There  was  once  a  inan  of  fortune,  who  lost  his  wealth, 
and  chagrin  and  melancholy  got  the  mastery  of  him,  so 
that  he  became  an  idiot  and  lost  his  wit.  There  abode 
with  him  of  his  wealth  about  a  score  of  dinars  and  he  used 
to  beg  alms  of  the  folk,  and  that  which  they  gave  him  he 
would  gather  together  and  lay  to  the  dinars  that  were  left 
him.  Now  there  was  in  that  town  a  vagabond,  who  made 
his  living  by  sharping,  and  he  knew  that  the  idiot  had 
somewhat  of  money;  so  he  fell  to  spying  upon  him  and 
gave  not  over  watching  him  till  he  saw  him  put  in  an 
earthen  pot  that  which  he  had  with  him  of  money  and 
enter  a  deserted  ruin,  where  he  sat  down,  [as  if]  to  make 
water,  and  dug  a  hole,  in  which  he  laid  the  pot  and 
covering  it  up,  strewed  earth  upon  the  place.  Then  he 
went  away  and  the  sharper  came  and  taking  what  was  in 
the  pot,  covered  it  up  again,  as  it  was. 

Presently,  the  idiot  returned,  with  somewhat  to  add  to 
his  hoard,  but  found  it  not;  so  he  bethought  him  who 
had  followed  him    and    remembered   that   he   had  found 


299 

the  sharper  aforesaid  assiduous  in  sitting  with  him  and 
questioning  him.  So  he  went  in  quest  of  him,  assured 
that  he  had  taken  the  pot,  and  gave  not  over  looking  for 
him  till  he  espied  him  sitting ;  whereupon  he  ran  to  him 
and  the  sharper  saw  him.  [Then  the  idiot  stood  within 
earshot]  and  muttered  to  himself  and  said,  *  In  the  pot 
are  threescore  dinars  and  I  have  with  me  other  score  in 
such  a  place  and  to-day  I  will  unite  the  whole  in  the 
pot'  When  the  sharper  heard  him  say  this  to  himself 
muttering  and  mumbling  after  his  fashion,  he  repented 
him  of  having  taken  the  dinars  and  said,  '  He  will  pre- 
sently return  to  the  pot  and  find  it  empty;  wherefore 
that*  for  which  I  am  on  the  look-out  will  escape  me; 
and  meseemeth  I  were  best  restore  the  dinars  [to  their 
place],  so  he  may  see  them  and  leave  all  that  is  with  him 
in  the  pot,  and  I  can  take  the  whole.' 

Now  he  feared  [to  return  to  the  pot  then  and  there], 
lest  the  idiot  should  follow  him  to  the  place  and  find 
nothing  and  so  his  plan  be  marred.  So  he  said  to  him, 
*  O  Ajlan,*  I  would  have  thee  come  to  my  lodging  and  eat 
bread  with  me.'  So  the  idiot  went  with  him  to  his 
lodging  and  he  seated  him  there  and  going  to  the  market, 
sold  somewhat  of  his  clothes  and  pawned  somewhat  from 
his  house  and  bought  dainty  food.  Then  he  betook  him- 
self to  the  ruin  and  replacing  the  money  in  the  pot,  buried 
it  again ;  after  which  he  returned  to  his  lodging  and  gave 
the  idiot  to  eat  and  drink,  and  they  went  out  together. 
The  sharper  went  away  and  hid  himself,  lest   the  idiot 

^  i.t.  the  [supposed]  rest  of  his  hoard. 
*  Apparently  the  idiot's  name. 


300 

should  see  him,  ^hflst  the  latter  repaired  to  his  hiding- 
place  and  took  the  pot 

Presently,  the  sharper  came  to  the  ruin,  rejoicing  in  that 
which  he  deemed  he  should  get,  and  dug  in  the  place,  but 
found  nothing  and  knew  that  the  idiot  had  tricked  him. 
So  he  buffeted  his  face,  for  chagrin,  and  fell  to  following 
the  other  whithersoever  he  went,  so  he  might  get  what 
was  with  him,  but  availed  not  unto  this,  for  that  the  idiot 
knew  what  was  in  his  mind  and  was  certified  that  he  spied 
upon  him,  [with  intent  to  rob  him]  ;  so  he  kept  watch  over 
himself.  Now,  if  the  sharper  had  considered  [the  conse- 
quences of]  haste  and  that  which  is  begotten  of  loss  there- 
from, he  had  not  done  thus.  Nor," continued  the  vizier,  "is 
this  story,  O  king  of  the  age,  rarer  or  more  extraordinary 
or  more  diverting  than  the  story  of  Khelbes  and  his  wife 
and  the  learned  man  and  that  which  befell  between  them." 


When  the  king  heard  this  story,  he  renounced  his 
purpose  of  putting  the  vizier  to  death  and  his  soul 
prompted  him  to  continue  him  on  lite.  So  he  bade  him 
go  away  to  his  house. 


CTfje  Sebentetntfi  ^i^t  d  ^t  Itontj^ 

When  the  evening  evened,  the  king  summoned  the 
rizier,  and  when  he  presented  himself,  he  required  of  him 
the  [promised]  story.  So  he  said,  "Hearkening  and 
obedience.     Know,  O  august  king,  that 

STORY  OF  KHELBES  AND  HIS  WIFE  AND  THE 
LEARNED  MAN. 

There  was  once  a  man  hight  Khelbes,  who  was  a  lewd 
fellow,  a  calamity,  notorious  for  this  fashion,  and  he  had  a 
fair  wife,  renowned  for  beauty  and  loveliness.  A  man  of 
his  townsfolk  fell  in  love  with,  her  and  she  also  loved  him. 
Now  Khelbes  was  a  crafty  fellow  and  full  of  tricks,  and 
there  was  in  his  neighbourhood  a  learned  man,  to  whom 
the  folk  used  to  resort  every  day  and  he  told  them  stories 
and  admonished  them  [with  moral  instances] ;  and  Khelbes 
was  wont  to  be  present  in  his  assembly,  for  the  sake  of 
making  a  show  before  the  folk. 

Now  this  learned  man  had  a  wife  renowned  for  beauty 
and  loveliness  and  quickness  of  wit  and  understanding 
and  the  lover  cast  about  for  a  device  whereby  he  might 
win  to  Khelbes's  wife;  so  he  came  to  him  and  told  him, 
as  a  secret,  what  he  had  seen  of  the  learned  man's  wife 
and  confided  to  him  that  he  was  enamoured  of  her  and 
besought  him  of  help  in  this.     Khelbes  told  him  that 


302 

she  was  distinguished  to  the  utterest  for  chastity  and 
continence  and  that  she  exposed  herself  not  to  suspicion  ; 
but  the  other  said,  '  I  cannot  renounce  her,  [firstly,]  because 
the  woman  incUneth  to  me  and  coveteth  my  wealth,  and 
secondly,  because  of  the  greatness  of  my  love  for  her ;  and 
nothing  is  wanting  but  thy  help.'  Quoth  Khelbes,  '  I  will 
do  thy  will ; '  and  the  other  said,  *  Thou  shalt  have  of  me 
two  dirhems  a  day,  on  condition  that  thou  sit  with  the 
learned  man  and  that,  when  he  riseth  from  the  assembly, 
thou  speak  a  word  notifying  the  breaking  up  of  the 
session.'  So  they  agreed  upon  this  and  Khelbes  entered 
and  sat  in  the  assembly,  whilst  the  lover  was  assured  in 
his  heart  that  the  secret  was  safe  with  him,  wherefore  he 
rejoiced  and  was  content  to  pay  the  two  dirhems. 

Then  Khelbes  used  to  attend  the  learned  man's 
assembly,  whilst  the  other  would  go  in  to  his  wife  and 
abide  with  her,  on  such  wise  as  he  thought  good,  till 
the  learned  man  arose  from  his  session;  and  when 
Khelbes  saw  that  he  purposed  rising,  he  would  speak 
a  word  for  the  lover  to  hear,  whereupon  he  went  forth 
from  Khelbes's  wife,  and  the  latter  knew  not  that  calamity 
was  in  his  own  house.  At  last  the  learned  man,  seeing 
Khelbes  do  on  this  wise  every  day,  began  to  misdoubt 
of  him,  more  by  token  of  that  which  he  knew  of  his 
character,  and  suspicion  grew  upon  him ;  so,  one  day, 
he  advanced  the  time  of  his  rising  before  the  wonted 
hour  and  hastening  up  to  Khelbes,  laid  hold  of  him  and 
said  to  him,  *  By  Allah,  an  thou  speak  a  single  syllable, 
I  will  do  thee  a  mischief ! '  Then  he  went  in  to  his  wife, 
with  Khelbes  in  his  grasp,  and  behold,  she  was  sitting,  ar 


303 

of  her  wont,  nor  was  there  about  her  aught  of  suspicious 
or  unseemly. 

The  learned  man  bethought  him  awhile  of  this,  then 
made  for  Khelbes's  house,  which  adjoined  his  own,  still 
holding  the  latter;  and  when  they  entered,  they  found 
the  young  man  lying  on  the  bed  with  Khelbes's  wife; 
whereupon  quoth  he  to  him,  *0  accursed  one,  the 
calamity  is  with  thee  and  in  thine  own  house  I '  So 
Khelbes  put  away  his  wife  and  went  forth,  fleeing,  and 
returned  not  to  his  own  land.  This,  then,"  continued  the 
vizier,  "is  the  consequence  of  lewdness,  for  whoso 
purposeth  in  himself  craft  and  perfidy,  they  get  possession 
of  him,  and  had  Khelbes  conceived  of  himself  that»  which 
he  conceived  of  the  folk  of  dishonour  and  calamity,  there 
had  betided  him  nothing  of  this.  Nor  is  this  story,  rare 
and  extraordinary  though  it  be,  more  extraordinary  or 
rarer  than  that  of  the  pious  woman  whose  husband's 
brother  accused  her  of  lewdness." 


When  the  king  heard  this,  wonderment  gat  hold  of  him 
and  his  admiration  for  the  vizier  redoubled;  so  he  bade 
him  go  to  his  house  and  return  to  him  [on  the  morrow], 
according  to  his  wont.  Accordingly,  the  vizier  withdrew 
to  his  lodging,  where  he  passed  the  night  and  the 
ensuing  day. 

*  Li.  had  he  been  on  his  own  guard  against  that,  etc 

END  OF  VOL.  L 


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