[Illustration]
[Illustration: لا لابرار كلّ شي تبر]
“TO THE PURE ALL THINGS ARE PURE.”
(Puris omnia pura)
—_Arab Proverb._
“Niuna corrotta mente intese mai sanamente parole.”
—“_Decameron_”—_conclusion_.
“Erubuit, posuitque meum Lucretia librum
Sed coram Bruto. Brute! recede, leget.”
—_Martial._
“Mieulx est de ris que de larmes escripre,
Pour ce que rire est le propre des hommes.”
—RABELAIS.
“The pleasure we derive from perusing the Thousand-and-One Stories makes
us regret that we possess only a comparatively small part of these truly
enchanting fictions.”
—CRICHTON’S “_History of Arabia_.”
[Illustration: _A. Lalauze. Pinx. et Sc._]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Supplemental
Nights
_TO THE BOOK OF THE_
Thousand Nights and a Night
_WITH NOTES ANTHROPOLOGICAL AND EXPLANATORY_
VOLUME V.
BY
RICHARD F. BURTON
[Illustration]
PRINTED BY THE BURTON CLUB FOR PRIVATE SUBSCRIBERS ONLY
Shammar Edition
Limited to one thousand numbered sets, of which this is
Number 547
PRINTED IN U. S. A.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
TO THE CURATORS OF THE BODLEIAN LIBRARY, OXFORD
_Especially_ REVD. B. PRICE _and_ PROFESSOR MAX MULLER.
GENTLEMEN,
I take the liberty of placing your names at the head of this Volume
which owes its rarest and raciest passages to your kindly refusing the
temporary transfer of the Wortley Montague MS. from your pleasant
library to the care of Dr. Rost, Chief Librarian, India Office. As a sop
to “bigotry and virtue,” as a concession to the “Scribes and Pharisees,”
I had undertaken, in case the loan were granted, not to translate tales
and passages which might expose you, the Curators, to unfriendly
comment. But, possibly anticipating what injury would thereby accrue to
the Volume and what sorrow to my subscribers, you were good enough not
to sanction the transfer—indeed you refused it to me twice—and for this
step my _clientèle_ will be (or ought to be) truly thankful to you.
I am, Gentlemen,
Yours obediently,
RICHARD F. BURTON
BODLEIAN LIBRARY,
_August 5th, 1888_.
CONTENTS OF THE FIFTH VOLUME.
PAGE
1. THE HISTORY OF THE KING’S SON OF SIND AND THE LADY FATIMAH 1
2. HISTORY OF THE LOVERS OF SYRIA 19
3. HISTORY OF AL-HAJJAJ BIN YUSUF AND THE YOUNG SAYYID 37
4. NIGHT ADVENTURE OF HARUN AL-RASHID AND THE YOUTH MANJAB 61
THE LOVES OF THE LOVERS OF BASSORAH 65
STORY OF THE DARWAYSH AND THE BARBER’S BOY AND THE GREEDY
SULTAN 105
TALE OF THE SIMPLETON HUSBAND 116
NOTE CONCERNING THE “TIRREA BEDE,” NIGHT 655 119
5. THE LOVES OF AL-HAYFA AND YUSUF 121
6. THE THREE PRINCES OF CHINA 211
7. THE RIGHTEOUS WAZIR WRONGFULLY GAOLED 229
8. THE CAIRENE YOUTH, THE BARBER AND THE CAPTAIN 241
9. THE GOODWIFE OF CAIRO AND HER FOUR GALLANTS 251
10. THE TAILOR AND THE LADY AND THE CAPTAIN 261
11. THE SYRIAN AND THE THREE WOMEN OF CAIRO 271
12. THE LADY WITH TWO COYNTES 279
13. THE WHORISH WIFE WHO VAUNTED HER VIRTUE 287
14. CŒLEBS THE DROLL AND HIS WIFE AND HER FOUR LOVERS 295
15. THE GATE-KEEPER OF CAIRO AND THE CUNNING SHE-THIEF 307
16. TALE OF MOHSIN AND MUSA 319
17. MOHAMMED THE SHALABI AND HIS MISTRESS AND HIS WIFE 333
18. THE FELLAH AND HIS WICKED WIFE 345
19. THE WOMAN WHO HUMOURED HER LOVER AT HER HUSBAND’S EXPENSE 355
20. THE KAZI SCHOOLED BY HIS WIFE 361
21. THE MERCHANT’S DAUGHTER AND THE PRINCE OF AL-IRAK 371
22. STORY OF THE YOUTH WHO WOULD FUTTER HIS FATHER’S WIVES 439
23. STORY OF THE TWO LACK-TACTS OF CAIRO AND DAMASCUS 453
24. TALE OF HIMSELF TOLD BY THE KING 463
Appendix I.
CATALOGUE OF WORTLEY MONTAGUE MANUSCRIPT CONTENTS 497
Appendix II.
BY W. F. KIRBY.
I. —NOTES ON THE STORIES CONTAINED IN VOL. IV. OF “SUPPLEMENTAL
NIGHTS” 505
II. —NOTES ON THE STORIES CONTAINED IN VOL. V. OF “SUPPLEMENTAL
NIGHTS” 513
THE TRANSLATOR’S FOREWORD
This volume contains the last of my versions from the Wortley Montague
Codex, and this is the place to offer a short account of that much
bewritten MS.
In the “Annals of the Bodleian Library,” etc., by the Reverend William
Dunn Macray, M.A. (London, Oxford and Cambridge, 1868: 8vo. p. 206), we
find the following official notice:—
“A.D. 1803.”
“An Arabic MS. in seven volumes, written in 1764–5, and containing
what is rarely met with, a complete collection of the Thousand and
one Tales (N.B. an error for “Nights”) of the _Arabian Nights
Entertainments_, was bought from Captain Jonathan Scott for £50. Mr.
Scott published, in 1811, an edition of the Tales in six volumes
(N.B. He reprinted the wretched English version of Prof. Galland’s
admirable French, and his “revisions” and “occasional corrections”
are purely imaginative,) in which this MS. is described, (N.B. after
the mos majorum). He obtained it from Dr. (Joseph) White, the
Professor of Hebrew and Arabic at Oxford, who had bought it at the
sale of the library of Edward Wortley Montague, by whom it had been
brought from the East. (N.B. Dr. White at one time intended to
translate it literally, and thereby eclipse the Anglo-French
version.) It is noticed in Ouseley’s Oriental Collections (Cadell
and Davies), vol. ii. p. 25.”
The Jonathan Scott above alluded to appears under various titles as Mr.
Scott, Captain Scott and Doctor Scott. He was an officer in the Bengal
Army about the end of the last century, and was made Persian Secretary
by “Warren Hastings, Esq.,” to whom he dedicated his “Tales, Anecdotes
and Letters, translated from the Arabic and Persian” (Cadell and Davies,
London, 1800), and he englished the “Bahár-i-Dánish” (A.D. 1799) and
“Firishtah’s History of the Dakkhan (Deccan) and of the reigns of the
later Emperors of Hindostan.” He became Dr. Scott because made an LL.D.
at Oxford as meet for a “Professor (of Oriental languages) at the Royal
Military and East India Colleges”; and finally he settled at Netley, in
Shropshire, where he died.
It is not the fault of English Orientalists if the MS. in question is
not thoroughly well-known to the world of letters. In 1797 Sir Gore
Ouseley’s “Oriental Collections” (vol. ii. pp. 25–33) describes it,
evidently with the aid of Scott, who is the authority for stating that
the tales generally appear like pearls strung at random on the same
thread; adding, “if they are truly Oriental it is a matter of little
importance to us Europeans whether they are strung on this night or that
night.”[1] This first and somewhat imperfect catalogue of the contents
was followed in 1811 by a second, which concludes the six-volume edition
of “The
ARABIAN NIGHTS
ENTERTAINMENTS,
_Carefully revised, and occasionally corrected_
=From the Arabic.=
TO WHICH IS ADDED
A SELECTION OF NEW TALES,
_Now first translated_
=From the Arabic Originals.=
ALSO,
AN INTRODUCTION AND NOTES,
ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE
RELIGION, MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE MAHOMMEDANS.”
The sixth volume, whose second title is “Tales | selected from the
Manuscript copy | of the | 1001 Nights | brought to Europe by Edward
Wortley Montague, Esq.,” ends with a general Appendix, of which ten
pages are devoted to a description of the Codex and a Catalogue of its
contents. Scott’s sixth volume, like the rest of his version, is now
becoming rare, and it is regretable that when Messieurs Nimmo and Bain
reprinted, in 1882, the bulk of the work (4 vols. 8vo) they stopped
short at volume five.
Lastly we find a third list dating from 1835 in the “Catalogi | Codicum
Manuscriptorum Orientalium | Bibliothecæ Bodleianæ | Pars Secunda |
Arabicos | complectens. | Confecit | Alexander Nicoll, J.C.D. | Nuper
Linguæ Heb. Professor Regius, necnon Ædis Christi Canonicus. | Editionem
absolvit | et Catalogum urianum[2] aliquatenus emendavit | G. B. Pusey,
S.T.B. | Viri desideratissimi Successor. | Oxonii, | E Typographio
Academico | MDCCCXXXV.” This is introduced under the head, “Codicis
Arabici Mahommedani Narrationes Fictæ sive Historiæ Romanenses | in
Quarto” (pp. 145–150).
I am not aware that any attempt has been made to trace the history of
the Wortley Montague MS.; but its internal evidence supplies a modicum
of information.
By way of colophon to the seventh and last volume we have, “On this wise
end to us the Stories of the Kings and histories of various folk as
foregoing in the Thousand Nights and a Night, perfected and completed,
on the eighteenth day of Safar the auspicious, which is of the months of
(the year A. H.) one thousand one hundred and seventy-eight” (= A.D.
1764–65).
“Copied by the humblest and neediest of the poor, Omar-al-Safatí, to
whose sins may Allah be Ruthful!
“An thou find in us fault deign default supply,
And hallow the Faultless and Glorify.”
The term “Suftah” is now and has been applied for the last century to
the sons of Turkish fathers by Arab mothers, and many of these Mulattos
live by the pen. On the fly-leaf of vol. i. is written in a fine and
flowing Persian (?) hand, strongly contrasting with the text of the
tome, which is unusually careless and bad, “This Book | The Thousand
Nights and a Night of the Acts and deeds (Sírat) of the Kings | and what
befel them from sundry | women that were whorish | and witty | and
various | Tales | therein.” Below it also is a Persian couplet written
in vulgar Iranian characters of the half-Shikastah type:—
Chih goyam, o chih poyam? ✿ Na mí-dánam hích o púch.
(What shall I say or whither fly? ✿ This stuff and this nonsense know
not I.)
Moreover, at the beginning of vol. i. is a list of fifteen tales written
in Europeo-Arabic characters, after schoolboy fashion, and probably by
Scott. In vol. ii. there is no initial list, but by way of Foreword we
read, “This is volume the second of the Thousand Nights and a Night from
the xciii^{d.} Night, full and complete.” And the Colophon declares,
“And this is what hath been finished for us of the fourth (probably a
clerical error for “second”) tome of the Thousand Nights and a Night to
the clxxvii^{th.} Night, written on the twentieth day of the month
Sha’bán A.H., one thousand one hundred and seventy-seven” (= A.D. 1764).
This date shows that the MS. was finished during the year after incept.
The text from which our MS. was copied must have been valuable, and we
have reason to regret that so many passages both of poetry and prose are
almost hopelessly corrupt. Its tone and tenor are distinctly Nilotic;
and, as Mr. E. Wortley Montague lived for some time in Egypt, he may
have bought it at the Capital of the Nile-land. The story of the Syrian
(v. 468) and that of the Two Lack-tacts (vi. 262), notably exalt Misr
and Cairo at the expense of Shám and Damascus; and there are many other
instances of preferring Kemi the Black Soil to the so-called “Holy
Land.” The general tone, as well as the special incidents of the book,
argues that the stories may have been ancient, but they certainly have
been modernised. Coffee is commonly used (passim) although tobacco is
still unknown; a youth learns archery and gunnery (Zarb al-Risás, vol.
vii. 440); casting of cannon occurs (vol. v. 186), and in one place
(vol. vi. 134) we read of “Tabanjatayn,” a pair of pistols; the word,
which is still popular, being a corruption of the Persian “Tabáncheh” =
a slap or blow, even as the French call a derringer _coup de poing_. The
characteristic of this Recueil is its want of finish. The stories are
told after perfunctory fashion as though the writer had not taken the
trouble to work out the details. There are no names or titles to the
tales, so that every translator must give his own; and the endings are
equally unsatisfactory, they usually content themselves, after “native”
fashion, with “Intihá” = finis; and the connection with the thread of
the work must be supplied by the story-teller or the translator.
Headlines were not in use for the MSS. of that day, and the catchwords
are often irregular, a new word taking the place of the initial in the
following page.
The handwriting, save and except in the first volume, has the merit of
regularity, and appears the same throughout the succeeding six, except
in the rare places (_e.g._ vi. 92–93), where the lazy copyist did not
care to change a worn-out pen, and continued to write with a double nib.
On the other hand, it is the character of a village-schoolmaster whose
literary culture is at its lowest. Hardly a sheet appears without some
blunder which only in rare places is erased or corrected, and a few
lacunæ are supplied by several hands, Oriental and European, the latter
presumably Scott’s. Not unfrequently the terminal word of a line is
divided, a sign of great incuria or ignorance, as “Sháhr | baz” (i. 4),
“Shahr | zád” (v. 309, vi. 106), and “Fawa | jadtu-h” = so I found him
(v. 104). Koranic quotations almost always lack vowel-points, and are
introduced without the usual ceremony. Poetry also, that crux of a
skilful scribe, is carelessly treated, and often enough two sets of
verse are thrown into one, the first rhyming in úr, and the second in ír
(_e.g._ vol. v. 256). The rhyme-words also are repeated within unlawful
limits (passim and vol. v. 308, ll. 6 and 11). Verse is thrust into the
body of the page (vii. 112) without signs of citation in red ink or
other (iii. 406); and rarely we find it, as it should be, in distichs
divided by the normal conventional marks, asterisks and similar
separations. Sometimes it appears in a column of hemistichs after the
fashion of Europe (iv. 111; iv. 232, etc.): here (v. 226) a quotation is
huddled into a single line; there (v. 242) four lines, written as
monostichs, are followed by two distichs in as many lines.
As regards the metrical part Dr. Steingass writes to me, “The verses in
Al-Hayfá and Yúsuf, where not mere doggerel, are spoiled by the
spelling. I was rarely able to make out even the metre and I think you
have accomplished a feat by translating them as you have done.”
The language of the MS. is generally that of the Felláh and notably so
in sundry of the tales, such as, “The Goodwife of Cairo and her four
Gallants” (v. 444). Of this a few verbal and phrasal instances will
suffice. Adíní = here am I (v. 198); Ahná (passim, for nahnu) nakháf =
we fear; ’Alaykí (for ’alaykĭ) = on thee; and generally the long vowel
(-kí) for the short (-ki) in the pronoun of the second person feminine;
Antah (for anta) = thou (vi. 96) and Antú (for antum) = you (iii. 351);
Aráha and even arúha, rúhat and rúha (for ráha) = he went (vii. 74 and
iv. 75) and Arúhú (for rúhú) = go ye (iv. 179); Bakarah * * * allazi
(for allatí) = a cow (he) who, etc.; (see in this vol., p. 253) and
generally a fine and utter contempt for genders, _e.g._ Hum (for hunna)
masc. for fem. (iii. 91; iii. 146; and v. 233); Tá’áli (for ta’ál) fem.
for masc. (vi. 96 et passim); Bíhím (for bi-him) = with them (v. 367);
Bi-kám (for bi-kum) = with you (iii. 142) are fair specimens of long
broad vowels supplanting the short, a peculiarity known in classical
Arab., _e.g._ Miftáh (for Miftah) = a key. Here, however, it is
exaggerated, _e.g._ Bá’íd (for ba’íd) = far (iv. 167); Kám (for kam) =
how many? Kúm (for kum) = you (v. 118); Kúl-há (for kul-há) = tell it
(iv. 58); Mín (for man) = who? (iii. 89); Mirwád (for Mirwad) = a
branding iron; Natanáshshad (for natanashshad) = we seek tidings (v.
211); Rájal (pron. Rágil, for Rajul) = a man (iv. 118 and passim); Sáhal
(for sahal) = easy, facile (iv. 71); Sír (for sir) = go, be off! (v.
199); Shíl (for shil) = carry away (i. 111); and Záhab (for zahab) =
gold (v. 186). This broad Doric or Caledonian articulation is not
musical to unaccustomed organs. As in popular parlance the Dál supplants
the Zál; _e.g._ Dahaba (for zahaba) = he went (v. 277 and passim); also
T takes the place of Th, as Tult for thulth = one third (iii. 348) and
Tamrat (for thamrat) = fruit (v. 260), thus generally ignoring the
sibilant Th after the fashion of the modern Egyptians who say Tumm (for
thumma) = again; “Kattir (for kaththir) Khayrak” = God increase thy
weal, and Lattama (for laththama) = he veiled. Also a general ignoring
of the dual, _e.g._ Házá ’usfurayn (for ’Usfuráni) = these be birds (vi.
121); Nazalú al-Wazirayn (do) = the two Wazirs went down (vii. 123); and
lastly Al-Wuzará al-itnayn (for Al-Wazíráni) = the two Wazirs (vii.
121). Again a fine contempt for numbers, as Nanzur ana (for Anzur) = I
(we) see (v. 198) and Inní (for inná) narúhu = indeed I (we) go (iii.
190). Also an equally conscientious disregard for cases, as Min mál
abú-há (for abí-há) = out of the moneys of her sire (iv. 190); and this
is apparently the rule of the writer.
Of Egyptianisms and vulgarisms we have Ant, má ghibtshayy = thou, hast
thou not been absent at all? with the shayy (a thing) subjoined to the
verb in this and similar other phrases; Baksísh for Bakhshish (iv. 356);
Al-Jawáz (for al-zíwáj) = marriage (i. 14); Fakí or Fikí (for fakih) = a
divine (vi. 207 and passim); Finjál (for finján) = a coffee-cup (v. 424,
also a Najdí or Central Arabian corruption); Kuwayyis = nice, pretty
(iv. 179); Láyálí (لايالى for liallá لئلا) = lest that (v. 285);
Luhúmát (for luhúm) = meats, a mere barbarism (v. 247); Matah (for Matá)
= when? (v. 464); Ma’áyah (for ma’í) = with me (vi. 13 et passim);
Shuwayy (or shuwayyah) Mayah, a double diminutive (for Muwayy or Muwayh)
= a small little water, intensely Nilotic (iv. 44); Mbarih or Embárah
(for Al-bárihah) = yesterday (v. 449); Takkat (for Dakkat) = she rapped
(iv. 190); Úzbáshá and Uzbáshá (for Yúzbáshí) = a centurion, a captain
(v. 430 et passim); Záídjah for Záijah (vi. 329); Zarághít (for
Zaghárít) = lullilooing (iv. 12); Zínah (for Ziná) = adultery, and
lastly Zúda (for Záda) = increased (iv. 87). Here the reader will cry
jam satis; while the student will compare the list with that given in my
Terminal Essay (vol. x. 168–9).
The two Appendices require no explanation. No. I. is a Catalogue of the
Tales in the Wortley Montague MS., and No. II. contains Notes upon the
Storiology of the Supplemental Volumes IV. and V. by the practised pen
of Mr. W. F. Kirby. The sheets during my absence from England have been
passed through the press and sundry additions and corrections have been
made by Dr. Steingass.
In conclusion I would state that my hope was to see this Volume (No.
xv.) terminate my long task; but circumstance is stronger than my will
and I must ask leave to bring out one more—The New Arabian Nights.
RICHARD F. BURTON.
ATHENÆUM CLUB,
_September 1st, 1888_.
THE HISTORY OF THE KING’S SON OF SIND AND THE LADY FATIMAH.[3]
It is related that whilome there was a King of the many Kings of Sind
who had a son by other than his wife. Now the youth, whenever he entered
the palace, would revile[4] and abuse and curse and use harsh words to
his step-mother, his father’s Queen, who was beautiful exceedingly; and
presently her charms were changed and her face waxed wan and for the
excess of what she heard from him she hated life and fell to longing for
death. Withal she could not say a word concerning the Prince to his
parent. One day of the days, behold, an aged woman (which had been her
nurse) came in to her and saw her in excessive sorrow and perplext as to
her affair for that she knew not what she could do with her step-son. So
the ancient dame said to her, “O my lady, no harm shall befal thee; yet
is thy case changed into other case and thy colour hath turned to
yellow.” Hereupon the Queen told her all that had befallen her from her
step-son of harsh language and revilement and abuse, and the other
rejoined, “O my lady, let not thy breast be straitened, and when the
youth shall come to thee and revile and abuse thee, do thou say
him:—Pull thy wits somewhat together till such time as thou shalt have
brought back the Lady Fatimah, daughter of ’Ámir ibn al-Nu’umán.” The
old woman taught her these words by heart, and anon went forth from her,
when the Prince entered by the door and spoke harsh words and abused and
reviled her; so his father’s wife said to him, “Lower thy tone and pull
thy wits somewhat together, for thou be a small matter until thou shalt
bring back the daughter of the Sultan, hight Fatimah, the child of ’Amir
ibn al-Nu’uman.” Now when he heard these words he cried, “By Allah, ’tis
not possible but that I go and return with the said Lady Fatimah;” after
which he repaired to his sire and said, “’Tis my desire to travel; so do
thou prepare for me provision of all manner wherewith I may wend my way
to a far land, nor will I return until I win to my wish.” Hereupon his
father fell to transporting whatso he required of victuals various and
manifold, until all was provided, and he got ready for him whatso
befitted of bales and camels and pages and slaves and eunuchs and negro
chattels. Presently they loaded up and the youth, having farewelled his
father and his friends and his familiars, set forth seeking the country
of Fatimah bint Amir, and he travelled for the first day and the second
day until he found himself in the middle of the wilds and the Wadys, and
the mountains and the stony wastes. This lasted for two months till such
time as he reached a region wherein were Ghúls and ferals, and to one
and all who met him and opposed him he would give something of provaunt
and gentle them and persuade them to guide him upon his way. After a
time he met a Shaykh well stricken in years; so he salamed to him and
the other, after returning his greeting, asked him saying, “What was it
brought thee to this land and region wherein are naught but wild beasts
and Ghuls?” whereto he answered, “O Shaykh, I came hither for the sake
of the Lady Fatimah, daughter of ’Amir ibn al-Nu’uman.” Hereat exclaimed
the greybeard, “Deceive not thyself, for assuredly thou shalt be lost
together with what are with thee of men and moneys, and the maiden in
question hath been the cause of destruction to many Kings and Sultans.
Her father hath three tasks which he proposeth to every suitor, nor
owneth any the power to accomplish a single one, and he conditioneth
that if any fail to fulfil them and avail not so to do, he shall be
slain. But I, O my son, will inform thee of the three which be these:
First the King will bring together an ardabb of sesame grain and an
ardabb of clover-seed and an ardabb of lentils; and he will mingle them
one with other, and he will say:—Whoso seeketh my daughter to wife, let
him set apart each sort, and whoso hath no power thereto I will smite
his neck. And as all have failed in the attempt their heads were struck
off next morning and were hung up over the Palace gateway. Now the
second task is this: the King hath a cistern[5] full of water, and he
conditioneth that the suitor shall drink it up to the last drop, under
pain of losing his life; and the third is as follows: he owneth a house
without doors and windows, and it hath[6] three hundred entrances and a
thousand skylights and two thousand closets: so he covenanteth with the
suitor that he make for that place whatever befitteth of doors and
lattices and cabinets, and the whole in a single night. Now here is
sufficient to engross thine intellect, O my son, but take thou no heed
and I will do thy task for thee.” Quoth the other, “O my uncle,
puissance and omnipotence are to Allah!” and quoth the Shaykh, “Go, O my
son, and may the Almighty forward the works of thee.” So the Prince
farewelled him and travelled for the space of two days, when suddenly
the ferals and the Ghuls opposed his passage and he gave them somewhat
of provaunt which they ate, and after they pointed out to him the right
path. Then he entered upon a Wady wherein flights of locusts barred the
passage, so he scattered for them somewhat of fine flour which they
picked up till they had eaten their sufficiency. Presently he found his
way into another valley of iron-bound rocks, and in it there were of the
Jánn what could not be numbered or described, and they cut and crossed
his way athwart that iron tract. So he came forward and salam’d to them
and gave them somewhat of bread and meat and water, and they ate and
drank till they were filled, after which they guided him on his journey
and set him in the right direction. Then he fared forwards till he came
to the middle of the mountain, where he was opposed by none, or mankind
or Jinn-kind, and he ceased not marching until he drew near the city of
the Sultan whose daughter he sought to wife. Here he set up a tent and
sat therein seeking repose for a term of three days; then he arose and
walked forwards until he entered the city, where he fell to looking
about him leftwards and rightwards till he had reached the palace[7] of
the King. He found there over the gateway some hundred heads which were
hanging up, and he cried to himself, “Veil me, O thou Veiler! All these
skulls were suspended for the sake of the Lady Fatimah, but the bye-word
saith:—Whoso dieth not by the sword dieth of his life-term, and manifold
are the causes whereas death be singlefold.” Thereupon he went forwards
to the palace gate——And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day, and
fell silent and ceased saying her permitted say. Then quoth her sister
Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful is thy tale, O sister mine, and how
enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with
that I would relate to you on the coming night an the Sovran suffer me
to survive?” Now when it was the next night and that was
The Four Hundred and Ninety-fifth Night,
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other
than sleepy, finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching
of this our latter night!” She replied:——With love and good will!—It
hath reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding,
lord of the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and
worthy celebrating, that the Prince went forward to the Palace gate and
purposed to enter, but they forbade him nor availed he to go in; so he
returned to his tents and there spent the night till dawn. Then he again
turned to the King’s Serai and attempted to make entry, but they stayed
him and he was unable to succeed, nor could he attain to the presence of
the Sovran. So he devised with one who was standing at the door a device
to enter the presence, but again he failed in his object and whenever he
craved admission they rejected him and drave him away saying, “O youth,
tell us what may be thy need?” Said he, “I have a requirement of the
Sultan and my purport is a business I may transact with him and speech
containeth both private and public matters; nor is it possible that I
mention my want to any save to the Sovran.” So a Chamberlain of the
chamberlains went in to the presence and reported the affair to the
King, who permitted them admit the stranger, and when he stood before
the throne he kissed ground and deprecated evil for the ruler and prayed
for his glory and permanency, and the Monarch, who marvelled at the
terseness of his tongue and the sweetness of his speech, said to him, “O
youth, what may be thy requirement?” Quoth the Prince, “Allah prolong
the reign of our lord the Sultan! I came to thee seeking connexion with
thee through thy daughter the lady concealed and the pearl unrevealed.”
Quoth the Sultan, “By Allah, verily this youth would doom himself
hopelessly to die and, Oh the pity of it for the loquence of his
language;” presently adding, “O youth, say me, art thou satisfied with
the conditions wherewith I would oblige thee?” and the Prince replied,
“O my lord, Omnipotence is to Allah; and, if the Almighty empower me to
fulfil thy pact, I shall fulfil it.” The King continued, “I have three
tasks to impose upon thee,” and the Prince rejoined, “I am satisfied
with all articles thou shalt appoint.” Hereupon the Sovran summoned the
writers and witnesses, and they indited the youth’s covenant and gave
testimony that he was content therewith; and when the Prince had
signified his satisfaction and obligation, the King sent for an ardabb
of sesame and an ardabb of clover-seed and an ardabb of lentils and let
mingle all three kinds one with other till they became a single heap.
Then said the King to the Prince, “Do thou separate each sort by itself
during the course of the coming night, and if dawn shall arise and every
seed is not set apart, I will cut off thy head.” Replied the other,
“Hearing and obeying.” Then the King bade place all the mixed heap in a
stead apart, and commanded the suitor retire into solitude; accordingly,
he passed alone into that site and looked upon that case and condition,
and he sat beside the heap deep in thought, so he set his hand upon his
cheek and fell to weeping, and was certified of death. Anon he arose and
going forwards attempted of himself to separate the various sorts of
grain, but he failed; and had two hundred thousand thousands of men been
gathered together for the work they had on nowise availed to it.
Hereupon he set his right hand upon his cheek[8] and he fell to weeping
and suffered the first third of the dark hours to pass, when he said to
himself, “There remaineth naught of thy life save the remnant of this
night!” But the while he was conjecturing and taking thought, behold, an
army of the locusts to whom he had thrown the flour upon his road came
speeding over him like a cloud dispread and said to him with the tongue
of the case,[9] “Fear not neither grieve, for we have flocked hither to
solace thee and ward from thee the woe wherein thou art: so take thou no
further heed.” Then they proceeded to separate each kind of grain and
set it by itself, and hardly an hour had passed before the whole sample
was distributed grain by grain into its proper place while he sat gazing
thereon. After this the locusts arose and went their ways, and when
morning dawned the Sultan came forth and took seat in the Hall of
Commandment and said to those who were present, “Arise ye and bring
hither the youth that we may cut off his head.” They did his bidding
but, when entering in to the Prince, they found all the different grains
piled separately, sesame by itself and clover-seed alone and lentils
distributed apart, whereat they marvelled and cried, “This thing is
indeed a mighty great matter from this youth, nor could it befal any
save himself of those who came before him or of those who shall follow
after him.” Presently they brought him to the Sultan and said, “O King
of the Age, all the grains are sorted;” whereat the Sovran wondered and
exclaimed, “Bring the whole before me.” And when they brought it he
looked upon it with amazement and rejoiced thereat, but soon recovered
himself and cried, “O youth, there remain to thee two tasks for two
nights; and if thou fulfil them, thou shalt win to thy wish, and if thou
fail therein, I will smite thy neck.” Said the Prince, “O King of the
Age, the All-might is to Allah, the One, the Omnipotent!” Now when night
drew nigh the King opened to him a cistern and said, “Drink up all that
is herein and leave not of it a drop, nor spill aught thereof upon the
ground, and if thou drain the whole of it, thou shalt indeed attain to
thine aim, but if thou fail to swallow it, I will smite thy neck.” The
Prince answered, “There is no Majesty and there is no Might save in
Allah, the Glorious, the Great!” Then he took his seat at the
cistern-mouth and fell to thinking and saying in his mind, “Wherefore, O
certain person, shouldst thou venture thy life and incur the cruel
consequence of this King on account of thy frowardness to thy father’s
wife? and by Allah, this is naught save Jinn-struck madness on thy
part!” So he placed his left hand upon his cheek, and in his right was a
stick wherewith he tapped and drew lines in absent fashion upon the
ground,[10] and he wept and wailed until the third of the first part of
the dark hours had passed, when he said in himself, “There remaineth
naught of thine age, ho, Such-an-one, save the remainder of this night.”
And he ceased not to be drowned in thought when suddenly a host of
savage beasts and wild birds came up to him and said with the tongue of
the case, “Fear not neither grieve, O youth, for none is faithless to
the food save the son of adultery and thou wast the first to work our
weal, so we will veil and protect thee, and let there be no sorrowing
with thee on account of this matter.” Hereupon they gathered together in
a body, birds and beasts, and they were like unto a lowering cloud, no
term to them was shown and no end was known as they followed in close
file one upon other——And Shahrazad was surprised by the dawn of day, and
fell silent and ceased to say her permitted say. Then quoth her sister
Dunyazad, “How sweet is thy story, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and
delectable!” Quoth she, “And where is this compared with that I would
relate to you on the coming night an the King suffer me to survive?” Now
when it was the next night and that was
The Four Hundred and Ninety-seventh Night,
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other
than sleepy finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of
this our latter night!” She replied:——With love and good will! It hath
reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of
the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy
celebrating, that the wild beasts and the feral birds met one another
beside that cistern and each took his turn thereat and drank without
drinking his full[11] until naught of water remained in the reservoir
and they fell to licking the sides with their tongues so that anyone
seeing it would say that for the last ten years not a drop of liquid had
been stored therein. And after this they all went their ways. Now as
soon as it was morning-tide the King arose and hied forth the Harem and
taking his seat in the Hall of Commandment said to sundry of his pages
and Chamberlains, “Go bring us tidings of the cistern.” Accordingly they
went thither and inspected it but found no trace of water therein; so
they returned straightway to the ruler and reported the matter. Hereupon
the Sultan was amazed and his wits were bewildered and he was certified
that none had power to win his daughter for wife save that youth. So he
cried, “Bring him hither,” and they fared to fetch him and presented him
in the presence where he salam’d to the Sovran and deprecated[12] for
him and prayed for him. The Sultan greeted him in return and said, “O
Youth, there now remaineth with me but a single task which if thou
accomplish shall save thee and win for thee my daughter; however if thou
fail therein I will smite thy neck.” “Power is to Allah!” exclaimed the
Prince whereat the Sultan marvelled and said in his mind, “Glory be to
God: the words and works of this youth be wonderful. Whatever I bid him
do he beginneth with naming the name of the Lord whereas those who
forewent him never suffered me hear aught of the sort. However, the
fortunate are Fortune’s favourites and Misfortune never befalleth them.”
Now when it was night-tide the Sultan said, “O youth, in very deed this
mansion which standeth beside the palace is brand-new and therein are
store of wood and timbers of every kind, but it lacketh portals and
lattices and the finishing of the cabinets; so I desire that thou make
for it doors and windows and closets. I have provided thee with
everything thou dost require of carpenter’s gear and turner’s lathes;
and either thou shalt work all this during the coming night; or, if thou
be wanting in aught and morning shall morrow without all the needful
being finished, I will cut off thy head. This is the fine of thy three
labours which an thou avail to accomplish thou shalt attain thine aim
and if thou fail thereof I will smite thy neck. Such be then my last
word.” Accordingly the Prince arose and faring from before him entered
the unfinished mansion which he found to be a palace greater and grander
than that wherein the King abode. He cried, “O Veiler, withdraw not Thy
veiling!” and he sat therein by himself (and he drowned in thought) and
said, “By Allah, if at this hour I could find somewhat to swallow I
would die thereby and rest from this toil and trouble have been my
lot;[13] and the morning shall not morrow ere I shall find repose nor
shall any one of the town folk solace himself and say:—The Sultan is
about to cut off the head of this youth. Withal the bye-word hath
it:—Joyance which cometh from Allah is nearer than is the eyebrow to the
eye, and if Almighty (be He extolled and exalted!) have determined aught
to my destiny, there is no flight therefrom. Moreover one of the Sages
hath said:—He released me from pillar to post and the Almighty bringeth
happiness nearhand. From this time until dawn of day many a matter may
proceed from the Lord wherein haply shall be salvation for me or
destruction.” Then he fell to pondering his affair and thinking over his
frowardness to the wife of his father, after which he said, “The slave
meditateth and the Lord determineth, nor doth the meditation of the
slave accord with the determination of the Lord.” And while thus drowned
in care he heard the sound of the Darabukkah-drum[14] and the turmoil of
work and the shiftings of voices whilst the house was full of forms
dimly seen and a voice cried out to him, “O youth, be hearty of heart
and sprightly of spirits: verily we will requite thee the kindness thou
wroughtest to us in providing us with thy provision; and we will come to
thine aidance this very night, for they who are visiting and assisting
thee are of the Jánn from the Valley of Iron.” Then they began taking up
the timbers and working them and some turned the wood with lathes, and
other planed the material with planes, whilst others again fell to
painting and dyeing the doors and windows, these green and those red and
those yellow; and presently they set them in their several steads, nor
did that night go by ere the labour was perfected and there was no royal
palace like unto it, either in ordinance or in emplacement. Now as
morning morrowed the Sultan went forth to his divan, and when he looked
abroad he saw a somewhat of magnificence in the mansion which was not to
be found in his palace, so he said in his surprise, “By Allah, the works
of this youth be wondrous and had the joiners and carpenters loitered
over three years upon this work they never would have fulfilled such
task: moreover we ken not by what manner of means this young man hath
been able to accomplish the labour.” Thereupon he sent for the Prince to
the presence and robed him with a sumptuous robe of honour and assigned
to him a mighty matter of money, saying, “Verily thou deservest, O
youth, and thou art the only one who meriteth that thou become to my
daughter baron and she become to thee femme.” Presently Sultan Amir ibn
al-Nu’uman bade tie the marriage-tie and led to her in procession the
bridegroom who found her a treasure wherefrom the talisman had been
loosed;[15] and the bride rejoiced with even more joyance than he did by
cause of her sire, with his three tasks, having made her believe that
she would never be wedded and bedded but die a maid, and she had long
been in sadness for such reason. Then the married couple abode with the
King their father for the space of a month, and all this time the camp
of the young Prince remained pitched without the town, and every day he
would send to his pages and eunuchs whatso they needed of meat and
drink. But when that term ended he craved from the Sultan leave of
travel to his own land and his father-in-law answered, “O youth, do
whatso thou ever wishest anent returning to thy native realm;” and
forthwith fell to fitting out his daughter till all her preparations
were completed and she was found ready for wayfare together with her
body-women and eunuchs. The Prince having farewelled his father-in-law
caused his loads to be loaded and set out seeking his native country and
kingdom; and he travelled by day and by night, and he pushed his way
through Wadys and over mountains for a while of time until he drew near
his own land, and between him and his father’s city remained only some
two or three marches. Here suddenly men met him upon the road and as he
asked them the tidings they replied that his sire was besieged within
his capital of Sind by a neighbour King who had attacked him and
determined to dethrone him and make himself Sovereign and Sultan in his
stead. Now when he heard this account he pushed forward with forced
marches till he reached his father’s city which he found as had been
reported; and the old King with all his forces was girded around within
his own walls nor could he sally out to offer battle for that the foe
was more forceful than himself. Hereupon the Prince pitched his camp and
prepared himself for fight and fray; and a many of his men rode with him
whilst another many remained on guard at the tents.——And Shahrazad was
surprised by the dawn of day and fell silent and ceased saying her
permitted say. Then quoth her sister Dunyazad, “How sweet and tasteful
is thy tale, O sister mine, and how enjoyable and delectable!” Quoth
she, “And where is this compared with that I would relate to you on the
coming night an the Sovran suffer me to survive?” Now when it was the
next night and that was
The Four Hundred and Ninety-ninth Night,
Dunyazad said to her, “Allah upon thee, O my sister, an thou be other
than sleepy finish for us thy tale that we may cut short the watching of
this our latter night!” She replied:——With love and good will! It hath
reached me, O auspicious King, the director, the right-guiding, lord of
the rede which is benefiting and of deeds fair-seeming and worthy
celebrating, that the Prince busked him for fight and fray seeking to
assault the army of the King who had besieged his sire, and the two
hosts fought together a strenuous fight and a stubborn. On this wise
fared it with them; but as regards the bride, she took patience till
such time as her bridegroom had ridden forth, when she donned her
weapons of war and veiled herself with a face-veil and sallying forth in
Mameluke’s habit presently came up with her mate the Prince whom she
found straitened by the multitude of his foes. Now this Princess was
mistress of all manner weapons, so she drew her sword from its sheath
and she laid on load rightwards and leftwards until the wits of all
beholders were wildered and her bridegroom inclined to her and said,
“Verily this Mameluke he is not one of our party.” But she continued
battling till the sun rose high in the firmament-vault when she
determined to attack the ensigns and colours which were flying after
right royal of fashion, and in the midst thereof was the hostile Sultan.
So she smote the ancient who bore the banner and cast him to the ground
and then she made for the King and charged down upon him and struck him
with the side of the sword a blow so sore that of his affright he fell
from his steed. But when his host saw him unhorsed and prostrate upon
the plain they sought safety in flight and escape, deeming him to be
dead; whereupon she alighted and pinioned his elbows behind his back and
tied his forearms to his side, and lashed him on to his charger and
bound him in bonds like a captive vile. Then she committed him to her
bridegroom who still knew her not and she departed the field seeking her
camp until she arrived there and entered her pavilion where she changed
her attire and arrayed herself in women’s raiment. After this she sat
down expecting the Prince who, when she had committed to him the
captured King, carried him into the city where he found the gates thrown
open. Hereupon his sire sallied forth and greeted him albeit he
recognized him not but was saying, “Needs must I find the Knight who
came to our assistance.” “O my papa,” quoth the Prince, “dost thou not
know me?” and quoth the other, “O young man, I know thee not;” whereat
the other rejoined, “I am thy son Such-an-one.” But hardly had the old
King heard these words when behold, he fell upon him and threw his arms
round his neck and was like to lose his sense and his senses for stress
of joyance. After a time he recovered and looking upon the captive King
asked him, “What was it drave thee to come hither and seek to seize from
me my realm?” and the other answered him with humility and craved his
pardon and promised not again to offend, so he released him and bade him
gang his gait. After this the young Prince went forth and caused his
Harim and his pages and whoso were with him enter the city and when they
were seated in the women’s apartment the husband and wife fell to
talking of their journey and what they had borne therein of toil and
travail. At last the Princess said to him, “O my lord, what became of
the King who besieged thy sire in his capital and who sought to bereave
him of his realm?” and said he, “I myself took him captive and committed
him to my father who admitted his excuses and suffered him depart.”
Quoth she, “And was it thou who capturedst him?” and quoth he, “Yea
verily, none made him prisoner save myself.” Hereupon said she, “Thee it
besitteth not to become after thy sire Sovran and Sultan!” and said he,
“Why and wherefore?” “For that a lie defameth and dishonoureth the
speaker,” cried she, “and thou hast proved thee a liar.” “What made it
manifest to thee that I lied?” asked the Prince, and the Princess
answered, “Thou claimest to have captured the King when it was other
than thyself took him prisoner and committed him to thy hands.” He
enquired, “And who was he?” and she replied, “I know not, withal I had
him in sight.” Hereupon the bridegroom repeated his query till at last
she confessed it was she had done that deed of derring-do; and the
Prince rejoiced much in her.[16] Then the twain made an entry in triumph
and the city was adorned and the general joy was increased. Now his
taking to wife the Lady Fatimah daughter of the Sultan Amir bin
Al-Nu’uman so reconciled him to his step-mother, the spouse of his
father the Sovran of Sind, that both forgot their differences and they
lived ever afterwards in harmony and happiness.
HISTORY OF THE LOVERS OF SYRIA.[17]