because he had despaired of ever seeing them again: he asked what had
been the occasion of their stay. But they took care not to acquaint him
with it, making no mention either of the black or of Codadad; and only
said, that being curious to see different countries, they had spent some
time in the neighbouring cities.
In the meantime Codadad lay in his tent weltering in his blood and
little differing from a dead man, with the princess his wife, who seemed
to be in not much better condition than himself. She rent the air with
her dismal shrieks, tore her hair, and bathing her husband's body with
her tears, "Alas! Codadad, my dear Codadad," cried she, "is it you whom
I behold just departing this life? Can I believe these are your brothers
who have treated you so unmercifully, those brothers whom thy valour had
saved? O Heaven! which has condemned me to lead a life of calamities, if
you will not permit me to have a consort, why did you permit me to find
one? Behold, you have now robbed me of two, just as I began to be
attached to them."
By these and other moving expressions the afflicted princess of Deryabar
vented her sorrow, fixing her eyes on the unfortunate Codadad, who could
not hear her; but he was not dead, and his consort, observing that he
still breathed, ran to a large town she espied in the plain, to inquire
for a surgeon. She was directed to one, who went immediately with her;
but when they came to the tent, they could not find Codadad, which made
them conclude he had been dragged away by some wild beast to be
devoured. The princess renewed her complaints and lamentations in a most
affecting manner. The surgeon was moved, and being unwilling to leave
her in so distressed a condition, proposed to her to return to the town,
offering her his house and service.
She suffered herself to be prevailed upon. The surgeon conducted her to
his house, and without knowing, as yet, who she was, treated her with
all imaginable courtesy and respect. He used all his endeavours to
comfort her, but it was vain to think of removing her sorrow. "Madam,"
said he to her one day, "be pleased to recount to me your misfortunes;
tell me your country and your condition. Perhaps I may give you some
good advice, when I am acquainted with all the circumstances of your
calamity."
The surgeon's words were so efficacious, that they wrought on the
princess, who recounted to him all her adventures; and when she had
done, the surgeon directed his discourse to her: "Madam," said he, "you
ought not thus to give way to your sorrow; you ought rather to arm
yourself with resolution, and perform what the duty of a wife requires
of you. You are bound to avenge your husband. If you please, I will wait
on you as your attendant. Let us go to the sultan of Harran's court; he
is a good and a just prince. You need only represent to him in lively
colours, how Prince Codadad has been treated by his brothers. I am
persuaded he will do you justice." "I submit to your reasoning,"
answered the princess; "it is my duty to endeavour to avenge Codadad;
and since you are so generous as to offer to attend me, I am ready to
set out." No sooner had she fixed this resolution, than the surgeon
ordered two camels to be made ready, on which the princess and he
mounted, and repaired to Harran.
They alighted at the first caravanserai they found, and inquired of the
host the news at court. "Deryabar," said he, "is in very great
perplexity. The sultan had a son, who lived long with him as a stranger,
and none can tell what is become of the young prince. One of the
sultan's wives, named Pirouzè, is his mother; she has made all possible
inquiry, but to no purpose. The sultan has forty-nine other sons, all by
different mothers, but not one of them has virtue enough to comfort him
for the death of Codadad; I say, his death, because it is impossible he
should be still alive, since no intelligence has been heard of him,
notwithstanding so much search has been made."
The surgeon, having heard this account from the host, concluded that the
best course the princess of Deryabar could take was to wait upon
Pirouzè; but that step required much precaution: for it was to be feared
that if the sultan of Harran's sons should happen to hear of the arrival
of their sister-in-law and her design, they might cause her to be
conveyed away before she could discover herself. The surgeon weighed all
these circumstances, and therefore, that he might manage matters with
discretion, desired the princess to remain in the caravanserai, whilst
he repaired to the palace, to observe which might be the safest way to
conduct her to Pirouzè.
He went accordingly into the city, and was walking toward the palace,
when he beheld a lady mounted on a mule richly accoutred. She was
followed by several ladies mounted also on mules, with a great number of
guards and black slaves. All the people formed a lane to see her pass
along, and saluted her by prostrating themselves on the ground. The
surgeon paid her the same respect, and then asked a calendar, who
happened to stand by him, whether that lady was one of the sultan's
wives. "Yes, brother," answered the calendar, "she is, and the most
honoured and beloved by the people, because she is the mother of Prince
Codadad, of whom you must have heard."
The surgeon asked no more questions, but followed Pirouzè to a mosque,
into which she went to distribute alms, and assist at the public prayers
which the sultan had ordered to be offered up for the safe return of
Codadad. The surgeon broke through the throng and advanced to Pirouzè's
guards. He waited the conclusion of the prayers, and when the princess
went out, stepped up to one of her slaves, and whispered him in the ear:
"Brother, I have a secret of moment to impart to the Princess Pirouzè:
may not I be introduced into her apartment?" "If that secret," answered
the slave, "relates to Prince Codadad I dare promise you shall have
audience of her; but if it concern not him, it is needless for you to be
introduced; for her thoughts are all engrossed by her son." "It is only
about that dear son," replied the surgeon, "that I wish to speak to
her." "If so," said the slave, "you need but follow us to the palace,
and you shall soon have the opportunity."
Accordingly, as soon as Pirouzè was returned to her apartment, the slave
acquainted her that a person unknown had some important information to
communicate to her, and that it related to Prince Codadad. No sooner had
he uttered these words, than Pirouzè expressed her impatience to see the
stranger. The slave immediately conducted him into the princess's closet
who ordered all her women to withdraw, except two, from whom she
concealed nothing. As soon as she saw the surgeon, she asked him eagerly
what news he had to tell her of Codadad. "Madam," answered the surgeon,
after having prostrated himself on the ground, "I have a long account to
give you, and such as will surprise you." He then related all the
particulars of what had passed between Codadad and his brothers, which
she listened to with eager attention; but when he came to speak of the
murder, the tender mother fainted away on her sofa, as if she had
herself been stabbed like her son. Her two women soon brought her to
herself and the surgeon continued his relation; and when he had
concluded, Pirouzè said to him: "Go back to the princess of Deryabar,
and assure her from me that the sultan shall soon own her for his
daughter-in-law; and as for yourself, your services shall be rewarded as
liberally as they deserve."
When the surgeon was gone, Pirouzè remained on the sofa in such a state
of affliction as may easily be imagined; and yielding to her tenderness
at the recollection of Codadad, "O my son!" said she, "I must never then
expect to see you more! Unfortunate Codadad, why did you leave me?"
While she uttered these words, she wept bitterly, and her two
attendants, moved by her grief, mingled their tears with hers.
Whilst they were all three in this manner vying in affliction, the
sultan came into the closet, and seeing them in this condition, asked
Pirouzè whether she had received any bad news concerning Codadad. "Alas!
sir," said she, "all is over, my son has lost his life, and to add to my
sorrow, I cannot pay him the funeral rites; for, in all probability,
wild beasts have devoured him." She then told him all she had heard from
the surgeon, and did not fail to enlarge on the inhuman manner in which
Codadad had been murdered by his brothers.
The sultan did not give Pirouzè time to finish her relation, but
transported with anger, and giving way to his passion, "Madam," said he
to the princess, "those perfidious wretches who cause you to shed these
tears, and are the occasion of mortal grief to their father, shall soon
feel the punishment due to their guilt." The sultan, having spoken these
words, with indignation in his countenance, went directly to the
presence-chamber, where all his courtiers attended, and such of the
people as had petitions to present to him. They were alarmed to see him
in passion, and thought his anger had been kindled against them. He
ascended the throne, and causing his grand vizier to approach, "Hassan,"
said he, "go immediately, take a thousand of my guards, and seize all
the princes, my sons; shut them up in the tower used as a prison for
murderers, and let this be done in a moment." All who were present
trembled at this extraordinary command; and the grand vizier, without
uttering a word, laid his hand on his head, to express his obedience,
and hastened from the hall to execute his orders. In the meantime the
sultan dismissed those who attended for audience, and declared he would
not hear of any business for a month to come. He was still in the hall
when the vizier returned. "Are all my sons," demanded he, "in the
tower?" "They are, sir," answered the vizier; "I have obeyed your
orders." "This is not all," replied the sultan, "I have farther commands
for you:" and so saying he went out of the hall of audience, and
returned to Pirouzè's apartment, the vizier following him. He asked the
princess where Codadad's widow had taken up her lodging. Pirouzè's women
told him, for the surgeon had not forgotten that in his relation. The
sultan then turning to his minister, "Go," said he, "to this
caravanserai, and conduct a young princess who lodges there, with all
the respect due to her quality, to my palace."
The vizier was not long in performing what he was ordered. He mounted on
horseback with all the emirs and courtiers, and repaired to the
caravanserai, where the princess of Deryabar was lodged, whom he
acquainted with his orders; and presented her, from the sultan, with a
fine white mule, whose saddle and bridle were adorned with gold, rubies,
and diamonds. She mounted, and proceeded to the palace. The surgeon
attended her, mounted on a beautiful Tartar horse which the vizier had
provided for him. All the people were at their windows, or in the
streets, to see the cavalcade; and it being given out that the princess,
whom they conducted in such state to court, was Codadad's wife, the city
resounded with acclamations, the air rung with shouts of joy, which
would have been turned into lamentations had that prince's fatal
adventure been known, so much was he beloved by all.
The princess of Deryabar found the sultan at the palace gate waiting to
receive her: he took her by the hand and led her to Pirouzè's apartment,
where a very moving scene took place. Codadad's wife found her
affliction redouble at the sight of her husband's father and mother; as,
on the other hand, those parents could not look on their son's wife
without being much affected. She cast herself at the sultan's feet, and
having bathed them with tears, was so overcome with grief that she was
not able to speak. Pirouzè was in no better state, and the sultan, moved
by these affecting objects, gave way to his own feelings and wept. At
length the princess of Deryabar, being somewhat recovered, recounted the
adventure of the castle and Codadad's disaster. Then she demanded
justice for the treachery of the princes. "Yes, madam," said the sultan,
"those ungrateful wretches shall perish; but Codadad's death must be
first made public, that the punishment of his brothers may not cause my
subjects to rebel; and though we have not my son's body, we will not
omit paying him the last duties." This said, he directed his discourse
to the vizier, and ordered him to cause to be erected a dome of white
marble, in a delightful plain, in the midst of which the city of Harran
stands. Then he appointed the princess of Deryabar a suitable apartment
in his palace, acknowledging her for his daughter-in-law.
Hassan caused the work to be carried on with such diligence, and
employed so many workmen, that the dome was soon finished. Within it was
erected a tomb, which was covered with gold brocade. When all was
completed, the sultan ordered prayers to be said, and appointed a day
for the obsequies of his son.
On that day all the inhabitants of the city went out upon the plain to
see the ceremony performed. The gate of the dome was then closed, and
all the people returned to the city. Next day there were public prayers
in all the mosques, and the same was continued for eight days
successively. On the ninth the king resolved to cause the princes his
sons to be beheaded. The people, incensed at their cruelty toward
Codadad, impatiently expected to see them executed. The scaffolds were
erecting, but the execution was respited, because, on a sudden,
intelligence was brought that the neighbouring princes who had before
made war on the sultan of Harran, were advancing with more numerous
forces than on the first invasion, and were then not far from the city.
This news gave new cause to lament the loss of Codadad, who had
signalised himself in the former war against the same enemies. The
sultan, nothing dismayed, formed a considerable army, and being too
brave to await the enemies' attack within his walls, marched out to meet
them. They, on their side, being informed that the sultan of Harran was
marching to engage them, halted in the plain, and formed their army.
As soon as the sultan discovered them, he also drew up his forces, and
ranged them in order of battle. The signal was given, and he attacked
them with extraordinary vigour; nor was the opposition inferior. Much
blood was shed on both sides, and the victory long remained dubious; but
at length it seemed to incline to the sultan of Harran's enemies, who,
being more numerous, were upon the point of surrounding him, when a
great body of cavalry appeared on the plain, and approached the two
armies. The sight of this fresh party daunted both sides, neither
knowing what to think of them; but their doubts were soon cleared; for
they fell upon the flank of the sultan of Harran's enemies with such a
furious charge, that they soon broke and routed them. Nor did they stop
here; they pursued them, and cut most of them in pieces.
The sultan of Harran, who had attentively observed all that passed,
admired the bravery of this strange body of cavalry, whose unexpected
arrival had given the victory to his army. But, above all, he was
charmed with their chief, whom he had seen fighting with a more than
ordinary valour. He longed to know the name of the generous hero.
Impatient to see and thank him, he advanced toward him, but perceived he
was coming to prevent him. The two princes drew near, and the sultan of
Harran, discovering Codadad in the brave warrior who had just defeated
his enemies, became motionless with joy and surprise. "Father," said
Codadad to him, "you have sufficient cause to be astonished at the
sudden appearance of a man whom perhaps you concluded to be dead. I
should have been so, had not Heaven preserved me still to serve you
against your enemies." "O my son," cried the sultan, "is it possible
that you are restored to me? Alas! I despaired of seeing you more." So
saying, he stretched out his arms to the young prince, who flew to such
a tender embrace.
"I know all, my son," said the sultan again, after having long held him
in his arms. "I know what return your brothers have made you for
delivering them out of the hands of the black; but you shall be revenged
to-morrow. Let us now go to the palace where your mother, who has shed
so many tears on your account, expects to rejoice with us on the defeat
of our enemies. What a joy will it be to her to be informed that my
victory is your work!" "Sir," said Codadad, "give me leave to ask how
you could know the adventure of the castle? Have any of my brothers,
repenting, owned it to you?" "No," answered the sultan; "the princess of
Deryabar has given us an account of everything, for she is in my palace,
and came thither to demand justice against your brothers." Codadad was
transported with joy, to learn that the princess his wife was at the
court. "Let us go, sir," cried he to his father in rapture, "let us go
to my mother, who waits for us. I am impatient to dry her tears, as well
as those of the princess of Deryabar."
The sultan immediately returned to the city with his army, and
re-entered his palace victorious, amidst the acclamations of the people,
who followed him in crowds, praying to Heaven to prolong his life, and
extolling Codadad to the skies. They found Pirouzè and her
daughter-in-law waiting to congratulate the sultan; but words cannot
express the transports of joy they felt when they saw the young prince
with him: their embraces were mingled with tears of a very different
kind from those they had before shed for him. When they had sufficiently
yielded to all the emotions that the ties of blood and love inspired,
they asked Codadad by what miracle he came to be still alive.
He answered that a peasant mounted on a mule happening accidentally to
come into the tent where he lay senseless, and perceiving him alone and
stabbed in several places, had made him fast on his mule, and carried
him to his house, where he applied to his wounds certain herbs, which
recovered him. "When I found myself well," added he, "I returned thanks
to the peasant, and gave him all the diamonds I had. I then made for the
city of Harran; but being informed by the way that some neighbouring
princes had gathered forces, and were on their march against the
sultan's subjects, I made myself known to the villagers, and stirred
them up to undertake his defence. I armed a great number of young men,
and heading them, happened to arrive at the time when the two armies
were engaged."
When he had done speaking, the sultan said: "Let us return thanks to God
for having preserved Codadad; but it is requisite that the traitors who
would have destroyed him should perish." "Sir," answered the generous
prince, "though they are wicked and ungrateful, consider they are your
own flesh and blood: they are my brothers; I forgive their offence, and
beg you to pardon them." This generosity drew tears from the sultan, who
caused the people to be assembled, and declared Codadad his heir. He
then ordered the princes, who were prisoners, to be brought out loaded
with irons. Pirouzè's son struck off their chains, and embraced them
all successively with as much sincerity and affection as he had done in
the black's castle. The people were charmed with Codadad's generosity,
and loaded him with applause. The surgeon was next nobly rewarded in
requital of the services he had done the princess of Deryabar and the
court of Harran remained thereafter in perfect joy and felicity.
THE STORY OF SINBAD THE VOYAGER
In the reign of the Caliph Haroun-al-Raschid, there lived at Bagdad a
poor porter called Hindbad. One day, when the weather was excessively
hot, he was employed to carry a heavy burden from one end of the town to
the other. Having still a great way to go, he came into a street where a
refreshing breeze blew on his face, and the pavement was sprinkled with
rose water. As he could not desire a better place to rest, he took off
his load, and sat upon it, near a large mansion.
He was much pleased that he stopped in this place; for the agreeable
smell of wood of aloes, and of pastils, that came from the house, mixing
with the scent of the rose-water, completely perfumed the air. Besides,
he heard from within a concert of instrumental music, accompanied with
the harmonious notes of nightingales. This charming melody, and the
smell of savoury dishes, made the porter conclude there was a feast
within. His business seldom leading him that way, he knew not to whom
the mansion belonged; but to satisfy his curiosity he went to some of
the servants, whom he saw standing at the gate in magnificent apparel,
and asked the name of the proprietor. "How," replied one of them, "do
you live in Bagdad, and know not that this is the house of Sinbad the
sailor, that famous voyager, who has sailed round the world?" The
porter, who had heard of this Sinbad's riches, lifted up his eyes to
Heaven, and said, loud enough to be heard: "Almighty creator of all
things, consider the difference between Sinbad and me! I am every day
exposed to fatigues and calamities, and can scarcely get barley-bread
for myself and my family, whilst happy Sinbad expends immense riches and
leads a life of pleasure. What has he done to obtain a lot so agreeable?
And what have I done to deserve one so wretched?"
Whilst the porter was thus indulging his melancholy, a servant came out
of the house, and taking him by the arm, bade him follow him, for
Sinbad, his master, wanted to speak to him.
The servants brought him into a great hall, where a number of people sat
round a table, covered with all sorts of savoury dishes. At the upper
end sat a venerable gentleman, with a long white beard, and behind him
stood a number of officers and domestics, all ready to attend his
pleasure. This personage was Sinbad. The porter, whose fear was
increased at the sight of so many people, and of a banquet so sumptuous,
saluted the company trembling. Sinbad bade him draw near, and seating
him at his right hand, served him himself, and gave him a cup of
excellent wine.
When the repast was over, Sinbad addressed his conversation to Hindbad,
and inquired his name and employment. "My lord," answered he, "my name
is Hindbad." "I am very glad to see you," replied Sinbad; "but I wish to
hear from your own mouth what it was you lately said in the street."
Sinbad had himself heard the porter complain through the window, and
this it was that induced him to have him brought in.
At this request, Hindbad hung down his head in confusion, and replied:
"My lord, I confess that my fatigue put me out of humour, and occasioned
me to utter some indiscreet words, which I beg you to pardon." "Do not
think I am so unjust," resumed Sinbad, "as to resent such a complaint,
but I must rectify your error concerning myself. You think, no doubt,
that I have acquired, without labour and trouble, the ease which I now
enjoy. But do not mistake; I did not attain to this happy condition,
without enduring for several years more trouble of body and mind than
can well be imagined. Yes, gentlemen," he added, speaking to the whole
company, "I can assure you my troubles were so extraordinary, that they
were calculated to discourage the most covetous from undertaking such
voyages as I did, to acquire riches. Perhaps you have never heard a
distinct account of my wonderful adventures; and since I have this
opportunity, I will give you a faithful account of them, not doubting
but it will be acceptable."
THE FIRST VOYAGE
"I inherited from my father considerable property, the greater part of
which I squandered in my youth in dissipation; but I perceived my error,
and reflected that riches were perishable, and quickly consumed by such
ill managers as myself, I further considered, that by my irregular way
of living I wretchedly misspent my time; which is, of all things, the
most valuable. Struck with these reflections, I collected the remains of
my fortune, and sold all my effects by public auction. I then entered
into a contract with some merchants, who traded by sea. I took the
advice of such as I thought most capable, and resolving to improve what
money I had, I embarked with several merchants on board a ship which we
had jointly fitted out.
"We set sail, and steered our course toward the Indies through the
Persian Gulf, which is formed by the coasts of Arabia Felix on the
right, and by those of Persia on the left. At first I was troubled with
sea-sickness, but speedily recovered my health, and was not afterward
subject to that complaint.