himself as an old woman. After which he took a scimitar, and
concealed it under his dress. He went out early one morning, and
soon met the old hag, who was already walking about the city,
seeking to entrap some one or other. Alnaschar accosted her, and
feigning the voice of a woman, he said, “Can you do me the favor
to lend me a money balance? I am a Persian, and but just arrived in
this city. I have brought five hundred pieces of gold from my own
country, and I wish to see if they are weight.”--“My good
woman,” replied the other, “you could not have addressed
yourself to a more proper person than me. You need only follow me
and I will take you to the house of my son, who is a money-changer,
and he will take a pleasure in weighing the gold for you himself,
and save you the trouble. Do not let us lose any time, for fear he
should be gone to his shop.” My brother followed her to the same
house where she had introduced him the first time, and the door was
opened by the Greek slave.
The old woman conducted my brother into the hall, where she bid him
wait a moment while she went to find her son. The pretended son then
appeared, in the form of that villainous black slave. “Come, my
old woman,” he called out, “get up, and follow me.” Having
spoken this, he walked on before, to the place where he wished to
murder him. Alnaschar got up, and followed the black slave; and as
he was going along he drew his scimitar from under his robe, and
gave him such a blow on the hind part of the neck, that he cut his
head completely off. He then took it up in one hand, and with the
other he drew the body after him to the subterraneous building,
where he lodged both of them in safety. The Greek slave, who was
used to this business, directly after brought a bason of salt; but
when she saw Alnaschar with the scimitar in his hand, and without
the veil that had concealed his face, she let the bason fall and ran
away: but my brother being able to run faster, soon overtook her,
and made her head fly from her shoulders. At hearing this noise, the
wicked old woman ran to see what was the matter, when Alnaschar
seized her, before she had time to make her escape. “Wretch,” he
exclaimed, “dost thou not know me?”--“Alas, sir,” she
tremblingly answered, “I do not remember to have ever seen you
before; who are you?”--“I am the person into whose house you
came the other day, to request leave to wash yourself, and say your
hypocritical prayers. Do you not recollect it?” She instantly fell
down on her knees, and implored his pardon, but he cut her into four
pieces.
The lady alone remained, who knew nothing at all of what was
passing. My brother went to look after her, and discovered her in a
chamber. When she saw him enter she was near fainting. She prayed
him to spare her life, and he had the generosity to grant it. “How
can you, madam,” he asked, “live with such infamous wretches as
those on whom I have now so justly revenged myself?”--“I was,”
she answered, “the wife of a very worthy merchant, and that wicked
old woman, of whose treachery I was ignorant, sometimes came to see
me. “Madam,” said she one day to me, “we are going to have a
gay and splendid wedding at our house, and you will enjoy a great
deal of pleasure there, if you will honor us with your company.” I
suffered myself to be prevailed upon to go; and for this purpose I
dressed myself in my richest habit, and took a hundred pieces of
gold with me. I followed her till she came to this house, where I
saw this black, who detained me here by force; and it is now three
years that I have been here, though very much against my
inclination.”--“From the manner in which this black proceeded,
he must have amassed,” replied my brother, “great
wealth.”--“So much so,” she answered “that if you could
carry it away, you would never be poor again. Follow me, and I will
shew it you.” She conducted Alnaschar into a room, where in truth
he saw so many coffers filled with gold, that he could not conceal
his astonishment. “Go,” she cried, “and bring here a
sufficient number of persons to carry all this away.”
My brother did not wait to be told a second time; he went away, and
was absent only till he collected ten men together. He brought them
back with him, and was much astonished to find the door of the house
open; but his astonishment was still greater, when on going into the
room where he had seen the coffers, he could not discover a single
one. The lady had been both more cunning and more diligent than he
had, and she and the coffers had entirely vanished during my
brother’s absence. That he might not return with empty hands, he
ordered the men to take, instead of the coffers, whatever moveables
they could find in the chambers and different apartments, whence he
took much more than was sufficient to repay him the value of his
five hundred pieces of gold, of which they had robbed him. But in
going away from the house, my brother forgot to shut the door; and
the neighbours, who knew my brother, and had observed the porters
both come and go, went and informed the judge of the whole business,
which appeared to them of a very suspicious nature.
Alnaschar passed the night quite at his ease; but early the next
morning, as he was going out, he encountered twenty men belonging to
the police, who immediately seized him. “You must come with us,”
they cried, “our master wants to speak with you.” My brother
begged them to have a moment’s patience, and offered them a sum of
money if they would permit him to escape; but instead of paying any
attention to what he said, they bound him, and compelled him to go
with them. In the street they met with an old friend of my
brother’s, who stopped them to know the reason of their taking him
in this manner. He also proposed to give them a considerable sum to
suffer him to escape, and report to the judge that they were unable
to find him. But he could not succeed with them, and they carried
Alnaschar before the judge of the police.
As soon as he came into his presence, the magistrate said to him,
“I desire you to inform me from what place you got all that
furniture which you had brought home yesterday.”--“Sir,”
replied Alnaschar, “I am ready to tell you the whole truth, but
permit me, in the first place, to implore your clemency; and I
request of you to give me your word, that nothing shall happen to
me.”--“I do so,” said the judge. My brother then related,
without disguise, every circumstance that had happened to him, from
the time the old woman first came to his house to request leave to
say her prayers, till he returned to the chamber in which he had
left the young lady, but whom he could not find there, after having
killed the black, the Greek slave, and the old woman. With regard to
what he had carried home, he entreated the judge to suffer him to
keep, at least, a part of it, to recompense him for the five hundred
pieces of gold, of which they had robbed him.
The judge immediately sent some of his people to my brother’s
house to bring away every thing he had, without promising to give
him any part; and as soon as the things were deposited in his
warehouse, he ordered my brother instantly to leave the city, and
never to return again on forfeiture of his life; because he was
fearful, if my brother remained there, he would go and complain of
his injustice to the caliph. Alnaschar in the mean time obeyed the
order without a murmur; he departed from the city, and fled for
refuge to another town. But on his road he encountered some robbers,
who took every thing from him, and stripped him as bare as my hand.
I was no sooner informed of this new misfortune than I took some
clothes with me, and went to find him out: after consoling him as
well as it was in my power, I brought him back with me, and made him
enter the city quite privately, and I took as much care of him as of
my other brothers.
THE HISTORY
OF THE BARBER’S SIXTH BROTHER.
The history of my sixth brother is the only one that now remains to
be told; and he was called Schacabac, the hare-lipped. He was at
first sufficiently industrious to employ the hundred drachms of
silver, which came to his share, in common with me and his other
brothers, in a very advantageous manner; but, at length, by reverse
of fortune, he was reduced to the necessity of begging his bread. In
this occupation he acquitted himself with great address; and his
chief aim was to procure admission, by bribing the officers and
domestics into the houses of the great, and by having access to
their persons, to excite their compassion.
He one day passed by a very magnificent building, through the door
of which he observed a spacious court, where he saw a vast number of
servants. He went up to one of them, and inquired of them, to whom
the house belonged. “My good man,” answered the domestic,
“where can you come from to ask such a question? Any one you met
would tell you it belonged to a Barmecide.” [10] My brother, to
whom the liberal and generous dispositions of the Barmecides were
well known, addressed himself to the porters, for there were more
than one, and requested to afford him some charity. “Come in,”
answered they, “no one prevents you, and speak to our master, he
will send you back well satisfied.”
My brother did not expect so much kindness; and after returning many
thanks to the porters, he, with their permission, entered the
palace, which was so large, that it took him some time to find the
apartment belonging to the Barmecide. He at length came to a large
square building, in a very beautiful style of architecture, into
which he entered by a vestibule that led to a fine garden, the walks
of which were formed of stones of different colours, very pleasant
to the eye. The apartments which surrounded this building on the
ground floor, were almost all open, and shaded only by some large
curtains, in order to keep off the sun, and which they drew aside to
admit the fresh air when the heat began to subside.
My brother would have been most highly delighted in so pleasant a
spot had his mind been sufficiently at ease to have enjoyed it. He
advanced still further, and entered a hall which was very richly
furnished, and ornamented with foliage, painted in azure and gold.
He perceived a venerable old man, whose beard was long and white,
sitting on a sofa, and in the most distinguished place. Hence he
judged it was the master of the house. In fact, it was the Barmecide
himself, who told him, in an obliging manner, that he was welcome,
and asked him what he wished. “My lord,” answered my brother, in
a lamentable tone, in order to excite his pity, “I am a poor man
who stands very much in need of the assistance of such powerful and
generous persons as you.” He could not have done better than
address himself to the person he did, for he was possessed of a
thousand amiable qualities.
The Barmecide was much astonished at my brother’s answer; and
putting both his hands to his breast, as if to tear his habit, as a
mark of commiseration; “is it possible,” he cried, “that I
should live at Bagdad, and that such a man as you should be so much
distressed as you say you are? I cannot suffer this.” At this
exclamation, my brother thinking he was going to give him a singular
proof of his liberality, wished him every blessing. “It shall
never be said,” replied the Barmecide, “that I abandon you; nor
do I intend that you shall again leave me.”--“Sir,” replied my
brother, “I swear to you that I have not even eaten any thing this
day.”--“What,” cried the Barmecide, “is it true, that at
this late hour you have not yet broken your fast? Alas, poor man, he
will die with hunger! Here, boy,” added he, raising his voice,
“bring us, instantly, a bason of water, that we may wash our
hands.”
Although no boy made his appearance, and my brother observed neither
bason nor water, the Barmecide nevertheless began to rub his hands,
as if some one held the water for him, and while he was doing this,
he said to my brother, “come close, and wash along with me.”
Schacabac by this supposed, that the Barmecide was fond of fun, and
as he himself liked a little raillery, and was not ignorant of the
submission the rich expected from the poor, he approached him and
did the same.
“Come,” said the Barmecide, “now bring us something to eat,
and mind you do not keep us waiting.” He had no sooner said this,
than he began, although nothing had been brought to eat, as if he
had taken something in his plate, and pretended to put it to his
mouth and chew it, calling out at the same time to my brother,
“Eat, I entreat you, my guest; make yourself quite at home. Eat, I
beg of you: you seem, for a hungry man, to have but a very poor
appetite.”--“Pardon me, my lord,” replied Schacabac, imitating
his motions at the same time very accurately, “You see I lose no
time, and understand my business very well.”--“What think you of
this bread?” said the Barmecide, “don’t you find it
excellent?”--“In truth, my lord,” answered my brother, who in
fact saw neither bread nor meat, “I never eat any thing more white
or delicate.”--“Eat your fill then,” rejoined the Barmecide,
“the slave who made this excellent bread cost me, I assure you,
five hundred pieces of gold.” Then continuing to praise the female
slave who was his baker, and boasting of his bread, which my brother
only devoured in idea, he said, “Boy, bring us another dish. Come,
my friend,” he continued to my brother, though no other boy
appeared, “taste this fresh dish, and tell me if you have ever
eaten any boiled mutton and barley better dressed than
this.”--“Oh, it is admirable,” answered my brother, “I
therefore, you see, help myself very plentifully.”--“It affords
me great pleasure,” added the Barmecide, “to see you; and I
entreat you not to suffer any of these dishes to be taken away,
since you find them so much to your taste.” He presently called
for a goose with sweet sauce, and dressed with vinegar, honey, dried
raisins, grey peas, and dried figs; this was brought in the same
manner as the mutton had been. “This goose is nice and fat,”
said the Barmecide; “here, take only a wing and a thigh, for you
must nurse your appetite, as there are many more things yet to
come.” In short, he called for many other dishes of different
kinds, of which my brother, all the time dying with hunger,
continued to pretend to eat. But what he boasted the most of, was a
lamb that had been fatted with pistachio nuts, and which he ordered,
and was served in the same manner as the other dishes had been.
“Now this,” said he, “is a dish you never meet with any where
but at my table, and I wish you to eat your fill of it.” As he
said this, he pretended to take a piece in his hand, and putting it
to my brother’s mouth, “take and eat this,” he said, “and
you will not think ill of my judgment in boasting of this dish.”
My brother held his head forward, opened his mouth, pretended to
take the piece and to chew and swallow it with the greatest
pleasure. “I was quite sure,” said the Barmecide, “you would
think it excellent.”--“Nothing can be more so,” replied
Schacabac. “In short, no table can be more deliciously served than
yours.”--“Now bring me the ragout,” said the other, “and I
do not think you will be less pleased with that than with the lamb.
Well, what do you think of it?”--“It is wonderful,” answered
my brother; “we at the same time have in this the flavor of amber,
cloves, nutmegs, ginger, pepper, and sweet herbs; and yet they are
all so well balanced, that the presence of one does not prevent the
flavor of the rest. How delicious it is!”--“Do justice to it
then,” cried the Barmecide, “and eat heartily I beg. Holloh,
boy,” cried he, raising his voice, “bring us a fresh
ragout.”--“Oh, no, if you please,” said Schacabac, “for in
truth, my lord, I cannot indeed eat any more.”
“Let the desert, then,” said the Barmecide, “be served, and
the fruit brought.” He then waited a few moments, in order to give
the servants time to change the dishes, then resuming his speech, he
said, “Taste these almonds, they are just gathered and very
good.” They then both pretended to take the skin off the almonds,
and eat them. The Barmecide, after this, invited my brother to
partake of many other things. “Here are, you see,” he said,
“all sorts of fruits, cakes, dried comfits, and preserves; take
what you like.” Then stretching out his hand, as if he was going
to give him something, “take this lozenge,” he said, “it is
excellent to assist digestion.” Schacabac pretended to take and
eat it. “Here is no want of musk in this, my lord?”--“I have
these lozenges made at home,” said the Barmecide, “and for
these, as well as every thing else in my house, nothing is
spared.” He still continued to persuade my brother to eat. “For
a man,” he said, “who was almost starving when he came here, you
have really eaten hardly any thing.”--“My lord,” replied
Schacabac, whose jaws were weary of chewing nothing, “I assure you
I am so full, that I cannot eat a morsel more.”
“Well, then,” cried the Barmecide, “after having eaten so
heartily it is necessary to drink [11] a little. You have no
objection to good wine?”--“My lord,” replied my brother, “if
you will excuse me, I never drink wine, because it is forbidden
me.”--“Oh, you are too scrupulous,” said the other, “come,
come, do as I do.”--“To oblige you then,” replied Schacabac,
“I will; for I observe you do not like that any thing should be
omitted in our feast. But as I am not in the habit of drinking wine,
I am fearful of being guilty of some fault against good breeding,
and even against the respect that is due to you. It is for this
reason, that I still entreat you to excuse my drinking any wine; I
shall be well satisfied with water.”--“No, no,” said the
Barmecide, you must drink wine.” At the same time he ordered some
to be brought. But the wine, like the dinner and desert, never in
reality appeared. He then pretended to pour some out, and drank the
first glass. After that, he poured out another glass for my brother,
and presenting it to him, “Come, drink my health,” he cried,
“and tell me if you think the wine good.”
My brother took the ideal glass, and first holding it up, and
looking to see if it were of a good bright colour, he put it to his
nose, in order to examine if it had an agreeable perfume; he then,
making a most profound reverence to the Barmecide, to show that he
took the liberty to drink his health, drank it off; accompanied at
the same time with proofs of receiving great pleasure from the
draught. “My lord,” he said, “I find this wine excellent; but
it does not seem to me quite strong enough.”--“You have only to
speak,” replied the other, “if you wish for any stronger. I have
various sorts in my cellar. We will see if this will suit you
better.” He then pretended to pour out some of another sort for
himself, and also some for my brother. He did this so frequently,
that Schacabac, pretending that the wine had got into his head,
feigned to be drunk. He raised his hand, and gave the Barmecide such
a violent blow, that he knocked him down. He was going to strike him
a second time, but the Barmecide, holding out his hand to avoid the
blow, called out, “Are you mad?” My brother then recollecting
himself, said, “My lord, you had the goodness to receive your
slave into your house, and to make a great feast for him: you ought
to have been satisfied with having made him eat, and not compelled
him to drink wine. I told you at first that I should be guilty of
some disrespect; I am very sorry for it, and ask you a thousand
pardons.”
He had hardly finished this speech, before the Barmecide, instead of
putting himself in a great passion, and being very angry, burst into
a violent fit of laughter. “I have searched for a long time,”
said he, “for a person of your disposition. I not only pardon the
blow you have given me, but from this moment I wish to look upon you
as one of my friends, and that you shall make no other house than
mine your home. You have had the complaisance to accommodate
yourself to my humor, and the patience to carry on the pleasantry to
the end; but we will now eat in reality.” Having said this, he
clapped his hands, when several slaves instantly appeared, whom he
ordered to set out the table and serve dinner up. His commands were
quickly obeyed, and my brother was now in reality treated with all
the same dishes he had before partaken of in idea. As soon as the
table was cleared, they brought some wine; and a number of beautiful
female slaves, most richly dressed, appeared, and began to sing some
pleasant airs to the sound of instruments. Schacabac had in the end
every reason to be satisfied with the kindness and civility of the
Barmecide, who took a great fancy to him, and treated him in the
most familiar manner; he gave him also a handsome dress from his own
wardrobe.
The Barmecide found my brother possessed of so much knowledge of
various sorts, that in the course of a few days he entrusted him
with the care of all his house and other affairs; and my brother
acquitted himself of his charge during the time it lasted, which was
twenty years, to the complete satisfaction of his employer. At the
end of this period, the generous Barmecide, worn out with old age,
paid the common debt of nature; and as he did not leave any heirs,
they confiscated all his fortune to the use of the prince. They even
took from my brother every thing he had saved. Finding himself thus
reduced to the state he was in at first, he joined a caravan of
pilgrims, going to Mecca, with the intention of making, by means of
their charitable disposition, the same pilgrimage. During their
journey, the caravan was unfortunately attacked and plundered by a
party of Bedouin [12] Arabs, who were more numerous than the
pilgrims.
My brother thus became the slave of a Bedouin, who for many days
continually gave him the bastinado, in order to induce him to get
himself ransomed. Schacabac protested to him, that it was all to no
purpose for him to ill-treat him in this manner. “I am your
slave,” said he, “and you may dispose of me as you like; but I
declare to you, that I am in the most extreme poverty, and that it
is not in my power to ransom myself.” My brother tried every
expedient to convince him of his wretched condition: he endeavored
to soften him by his tears, but the Bedouin was inexorable; and
through revenge, at finding himself disappointed of a considerable
sum of money, which he fully expected to receive, he absolutely took
his knife and slit up the lips of my brother, and by this inhuman
act, he endeavoured to repay himself for the loss he supposed
himself to have suffered.
This Bedouin had a wife who was rather handsome; and he very soon
after left my brother with her, when he went on his excursions. At
these times, his wife left no means untried to console him for the
rigour of his situation. She even gave him to understand she was in
love with him; but he dared not return her passion, for fear he
should have reason to repent of it: he, therefore, took every
precaution to avoid being alone with her, whenever she seemed to
wish it. She, at length, became so much accustomed to joke, and
amuse herself with the hard-hearted Schacabac, whenever she met him,
that she one day forgot herself, and did it in the presence of her
husband. My poor brother, without in the least thinking he was
observed, for so his ill-luck would have it, returned her
pleasantries. The Bedouin immediately imagined that they passed
their time, during his absence, in a way not very consistent with
his honor. This suspicion put him into the greatest rage; he threw
himself upon my brother, and after mutilating him in the most
barbarous manner, he carried him on a camel to the top of a high
desert mountain, where he left him. The road to Bagdad happened to
pass over this very mountain, and some travellers, who accidentally
met him there, informed me where he was to be found. I made all the
haste I could to the place; and I found the unfortunate Schacabac in
the most deplorable condition it was possible to be in. I afforded
him every assistance and aid he stood in need of, and brought him
back with me into the city.