"What," exclaimed Medjeddin in astonishment, "in his pocket!--how can

that be?"

The princess informed him that the young man became on the occasion of

each visit a white bird, like herself: that the enchanter put him into

the cage with her, and that she felt such a dislike to him that she

always fluttered about the cage to avoid getting near him; but that

he, with the pertinacious obstinacy of a brutal affection, would

follow her and settle confidingly near her. "You must," she continued,

"have remarked how tired and mournful I always was on the ninth day

when you returned."

Medjeddin, astonished at this explanation, assured her of his

willingness to free her, but bewailed his helplessness. The princess,

however, would not give up hopes of their success. "It seems to me,"

said she, "a good omen that the enchanter has to-day received a

message which caused him to leave so early, and in such haste that he

did not securely close the cage, and that you returned so early to-day

from the garden; this day is my birthday, the only day I can be

delivered from the magician's power; on any other day I should still

have remained a dumb bird, even if you had freed me from my cage; only

on this day has my touching the floor had power to restore me to my

natural form; the enchantment lies in the cage."

Medjeddin instantly seized the cage, exclaiming, "If it be so, we will

break the enchantment." He threw the cage to the ground, stamped on it

with his feet till it was quite flat, and its shape no longer

distinguishable, then he rolled it together, and threw it into a

corner of the hall.

At this moment a frightful noise like thunder resounded through the

air. The whole building shook as with a furious tempest, the doors

flew open with a crash, the curtains were drawn aside, and the

magician stood before them with a countenance full of anger. "Ah,"

cried he, "weak worms, what have you presumed to do? how did you learn

to break my charm in this manner? who bid you destroy the cage?"

Medjeddin was so terrified he could answer nothing. The enchanter then

turned to the maiden and cried, "And you, you thought this miserable

worm could defend you against my power: I will show you how useless it

is to oppose me."

He felt in the pocket of his black robe, and pulled out thence a small

box; this he opened, and a white bird flew out and perched on the

table. He then took a smaller box from his girdle and opened it,--it

was filled with grains of millet; from these he took one, and laid it

before the bird, who had scarcely eaten it before such a distorted man

stood in its place, that both Medjeddin and the princess screamed

aloud. His head was large and thick, his eyes red and dark, his nose

small and quite flat, his lips thick and blueish red, his chin broad

and projecting, and on his head grew a few stiff white hairs; a hump

grew out in front, and a similar one behind; his shoulders were quite

drawn up, and his head so jammed between them that his ears could not

be seen. The upper part of his body was so unwieldy, and his legs so

weak and thin that it was wonderful how they supported him; he

tottered about incessantly, balancing himself first on one leg, then

on the other.

"Come forward, my son," said the enchanter to this deformed creature;

"behold, there is your bride; she does not wish to wait till the new

moon which I fixed upon for your betrothal: to-day she has effected

her own change by the help of this friend. Go, my son, give your bride

a kiss, and then thank this young man."

The deformed creature approached the princess with a horrible fiendish

laugh; she averted her face with disgust, and stretched out her arms

to motion him away. But by this time Medjeddin's courage had returned:

resolving to venture all, he stepped before the princess and gave the

deformity such a blow that he reeled and fell backwards. His head

struck in the fall on the corner of the pedestal of one of the marble

pillars with such violence, that his skull was broken: a stream of

blood flowed from the wound, and the monster gave a hollow groan.

Medjeddin thought of nothing but the father's rage and revenge, and

gave up his life for lost. But the enchanter stood quite confounded as

he observed his son's mortal wound, and appeared stupified with horror

and amazement. Presently he threw himself down beside him, examined

the injury, and wrung his hands, forgetting his revenge in his sorrow.

Medjeddin quickly seized the hand of the princess, and led her through

the door and down the stairs: all the doors were open, and they found

their way without any obstacle into the garden. Soon they stood before

the grating of the iron gate, which was closed.

"Of what use is our flight?" said Medjeddin despondingly; "we are

still as much as ever in the power of the enchanter; and even if we

were on the other side of the gate, and concealed in the deepest

cavern, he would discover us by his knowledge, and wreak his vengeance

on us."

"I am of a different opinion," said the princess; "I know many of the

things on which the superior power of this magician depends, and I

believe that if we could only get out of this place, we should be

safe."

They went on a little further, and came to a spot where a number of

trees had been uprooted by the hurricane; one of these lay overturned

with its summit resting on the top of the wall, and its boughs and

branches hanging far over the other side. At this sight the young man

rejoiced; he climbed quickly on to the trunk, pulling the princess

after him, and guiding her with great care and tenderness into the top

of the tree. They then clambered over the wall in spite of a

formidable row of spikes, and let themselves down on the other side by

the overhanging branches of the tree. These did not quite reach to the

ground, but near enough for them to leap down; they let go

accordingly, and fell gently to the earth; then jumping up, they

proceeded as rapidly as the strength of the princess and the

difficulties of the way would allow them, through thickets, underwood,

and plains studded with prickly plants, towards the distant mountains.

After the two fugitives had continued their flight for several hours

without looking back on the scene of their imprisonment, the princess

felt her strength exhausted, and that she could go no further; she

begged her companion, therefore, to stop and rest for a short time.

Medjeddin sought a place free from bushes, and clad with moss and long

grass; they seated themselves there, and Medjeddin entreated the

princess to relate her history. She was too much exhausted at first,

but after a short pause recovered her strength and commenced thus:

"My early history is very simple. I am called Jasmin, the only

daughter of the sultan of Zanguebar. My mother was brought over the

wide-stretching sea, from beyond Arabia and Mount Caucasus, and was

sold to him as a slave. Soon attracted by her beauty and manners, he

raised her to the dignity of wife. My earliest youth was spent in

happy sports under my mother's eyes, who died, however, before I had

passed the age of childhood, as the change from the mild climate of

her land to the heat of my father's shortened her days. My father

loved me as his greatest treasure, and confided me to a careful nurse.

Every evening I passed several hours with him, as soon as he was

released from the cares of government, and one whole day in each week

he devoted to conversation with me. On that day we always went

together in a light bark to a neighbouring promontory, where he had a

beautiful palace and gardens. The air there was cooler and more

refreshing, the trees and shrubs were clothed with fresher green than

in the shut-up garden in the capital, and we passed the whole day in

the open air. In the mean time I had outgrown childhood, and was

beloved by a prince, the son of a neighbouring king, to whom I was

betrothed, and who was to succeed my father in his kingdom. This

prince, whose name was Mundiana Mesoud, often accompanied us in these

visits to the castle on the promontory.

"It happened one day, as we were sitting on a terrace by the sea, that

a foreign ship anchored just below us. A stranger caused himself to be

landed in a little boat, and asked us permission to appear before us,

as he had many costly wares to offer for sale. I was desirous to see

his wares, and begged my father to admit him. The man laid many costly

trinkets of gold and precious stones before us; and my father bought

some which pleased me the most. I remarked that the merchant watched

me closely, but he did this with such evident pleasure that my vanity

ascribed it to his admiration of my charms, and found no harm in it.

Whilst he showed his goods, he let fall some words which intimated

that he had left his most precious articles behind in the ship; he had

there, he said, many curious birds, particularly a snow-white bird

which was the most beautiful of all creatures of this kind. He managed

thus to excite my curiosity so much that I begged my father to allow

me to go with the stranger to his ship to see these rarities. My

father was weak enough to comply with this unreasonable wish. A

suitable train ought to have accompanied me, but the stranger

prevented this; he said his boat had only room in it for three people,

and that he should not like to show his wares if many strangers came

into his ship. 'They are only things fit for the royal princess,' he

said; 'there is no fear that I should expose her to danger. I can

never forget that a powerful king has entrusted his only daughter to

my care. However, the prince may accompany you as a watchful

protector.' We accompanied the merchant to the ship; there we found an

immense number of extraordinary things and unknown animals. In the

place where in other ships the rowers sat, were great apes; on high on

the mast sat an eagle; in the cabins were many large and small cages

of smooth ebony with thick gold bars, behind which moved a confused

multitude of animals.

"My desire was now directed to the snow-white bird, about which I made

inquiry. He showed it me high up in a sort of box; and as I could not

see it distinctly, he took it out and placed it in my hand. 'The most

wonderful circumstance,' said he, 'connected with this bird is, that,

being a native of a far distant country, when removed to this it can

only remain a few days alive, but I have found the corn of life of

which I give it some grains each week, and it is then refreshed for

nine days.' We asked for the corn of life, of which we had never

heard; and he opened a little box and took out three grains. He gave

me one to give the bird, the other I was to try, and the third prince

Mesoud. When I offered the grain to the bird, it refused it; and when

I pressed my hand closer, drew back, lost its balance and fell down

with outspread wings. I hastened to it, picked it up perhaps somewhat

roughly, and as it tried to escape, I held some of its tail-feathers

fast, so that it lay fluttering in my hand. I was very much

frightened, and the merchant seemed so also. He soon laughed, however,

with a sort of malicious joy, and said that I should swallow the corn,

because it would prevent the flight of the frightened prisoner; he

said the same to the prince; and we swallowed the grains at the same

moment. I felt a wonderful transformation pass over me, and found that

I was changed into a snow-white bird; and when I looked towards the

prince, in his stead I saw a black bird. Upon this the stranger, who

was no other than the enchanter, seized me, and shut me up in the

golden cage which you have trodden to pieces. The apes began to ply

the oars, and the ship moved with unusual swiftness over the sea. I

still saw my father and the attendants on the terrace, and could

distinguish their gestures of wonder as they saw the ship depart; I

believed even that I heard their voices calling us back. But what

could I do in my cage? The black bird flew to the promontory; and from

that moment I have neither heard nor seen any thing of prince Mesoud.

"When my home was far in the distance, and even the summit of the

mountains which overhung it could no longer be distinguished, the

enchanter rose with my cage high in the air, leaving his ship behind,

and bore me into the hall of the tower. How he brought the other white

bird, I do not know; I only know that he took it out of his pocket and

put it into the cage. 'Now you have a companion,' said he. As I took

him for a real bird, I considered myself, though unfortunate, superior

to him, and drew myself back into a corner. But the bird came nearer

and followed me round the cage. At last I lost patience, and pecked

his eyes. When the enchanter saw this, he took out a little box and

took from it a grain which he laid before the bird, who picked it up

immediately. It was then changed into a man, the same ugly wretch you

saw in the tower. He desired me, as I have already told you, to take

that deformity for my husband; and promised me that, on my consent, I

should be immediately restored to my proper form, and assured me that

otherwise I should always remain as a bird, except on my birthday. It

was also part of my enchantment to be obliged to allure you here. I

have now no other wish than to return to my father in Zanguebar,

because I know he is living in great affliction."

This relation vividly reminded Medjeddin of his own father; he knew,

from the great love he had always shown him, that he must have pined

for his loss, and his mournful countenance and bowed-down form

presented themselves before his mind. "Princess," said he, "your

desire cannot be greater than mine. Still, I swear to you, that I will

not return to my father till I have safely conducted you to your

native land, or have seen you safe into the hands of those who will

bring you to your father; if I do not, may Heaven not grant my father

life to receive this joy!"

They journeyed on with renewed vigour. But evening was drawing near,

and it was necessary to find a resting-place for the night; fortune

was favourable; they soon found a nook overhung by a large and lofty

bush. Medjeddin broke away the boughs, so as to form a hedge which

fenced round a small spot in which he concealed the princess, leaving

only a narrow entrance, before which he lay down to watch. Night

passed without danger. However anxiously Medjeddin strove against

sleep in order to watch over his companion, it at last weighed down

his eyelids; and they both awoke with the first rays of the sun. They

wandered the whole day, resting occasionally; at every step the

journey became more hazardous; the thickets became thicker and higher;

they were often obliged to creep between the boughs, and their clothes

hung in rags. On the fourth day they reached the foot of the

mountains. There they found cultivated land and human habitations.

Medjeddin inquired where they were, and asked the way to the sea. The

people told them the name of the country, which was unknown to

Medjeddin and to the princess Jasmin, and added, that on the other

side of the high mountains lay a large flat land, bordering on the

sea. They received this information with great joy, and, tired and

footsore as they were, addressed themselves, without loss of time, to

the task of crossing the mountains, and at last, after a wearisome

journey, during which they had seen the sun rise and set seven times,

they arrived at the flat country and the sea-coast of which they had

been told. A ship lay ready at anchor; and when they inquired its

destination, the steersman answered, "We are going to Zanguebar, to

fetch a cargo of cinnamon." To Medjeddin's question where they came

from, and the name of the land where they were, he received for

answer, "that the ship belonged to a merchant of Balsora, and that it

had been cast on these unknown shores by a violent storm."

When the princess perceived that the ship was going towards her native

land, she was very much rejoiced. She took one of the precious stones

out of the fillet on her forehead, and gave it for the passage money

of herself and her companion. The following morning they weighed

anchor, and, after a prosperous voyage, reached the very same place

where the enchanter's ship had formerly lain at anchor, when he

carried off the princess.

They were landed in a small boat, and Jasmin led her deliverer through

the beautiful leafy walks of the imperial gardens. In this way they

came to a terrace, from which they could see the ship. Instead of

pressing hastily forwards, they concealed themselves behind a bush,

for on the terrace sat a venerable and noble-looking man, with the

profoundest melancholy stamped on his features; he was looking

seawards, and the vessel had just caught his eye; a flood of tears ran

down his face, "Ah!" cried he, "it was just so on the day that my

sorrows began! There lay the ship of the robber; there landed the boat

which carried away my beloved daughter and her betrothed. It was even

at the same hour of the day. I have sent messengers into all the

neighbouring lands; I have caused the opposite sea-coasts to be

searched; but all has been in vain. I must die, and never see my child

again."

He pronounced these words aloud, and covered his face, as he bowed

himself forward on his hands.

The princess Jasmin was rushing towards him, but Medjeddin held her

back, and said, "Let me first prepare him for your arrival, for

otherwise joy may kill him." And he came forward, and bowed himself

before the sorrowing old man.

The king then said, "Who are you? Are you a beggar, and do you need

any gift? It shall be given you; go to my palace."

Medjeddin stood up and answered, "From my appearance, you might well

take me for a beggar, O great king Omar. But know that under these

ragged clothes is concealed a magician, who is able to change your

tears into smiles, your sobs into transports of joy."

"Can any man on earth do this?" asked Omar.

"I have only to speak three words," answered the other, "and it will

happen. Are you strong enough to support the highest joy that your

heart can feel or conceive?"

At these questions, a ray of hope kindled in the soul of the mourning

father. "What is it? Who are you who can promise this?" asked he; and,

on Medjeddin repeating his question, he answered, "I think so,"

regarding him, at the same time, with eager looks.

"Approach, princess Jasmin," cried the youth; and she sprang forward

into her father's open arms.

Medjeddin's promise was indeed fulfilled; the aged monarch's tears

were changed into smiles of joy. Their embrace continued long. At last

Omar raised himself, beckoned Medjeddin to approach, and said, "You

are indeed a magician such as I have never seen before. By your words

you have changed the mournful course of my life into the brightest

sunshine. I will not now ask you who you are, and what I have to thank

you for, nor inquire what chance brought you to my daughter; I shall

only give myself up to joy at her return."

They went back to the capital in the king's barge, and soon the joyful

news of the unexpected reappearance of the princess spread every

where. Crowds assembled at the palace to ascertain if the news were

true, and the princess at length went out of the principal gate of the

palace, and showed herself at the head of the flight of steps which

led up to it. Then arose a shout of joy from ten thousand voices, and

loud wishes for her health and happiness.

The next day, after the king had heard from his daughter the history

of her imprisonment, and of the devotion with which Medjeddin had

watched over her and when Medjeddin had in turn narrated his history

Omar became very thoughtful, and caused his council to assemble, to

deliberate how they should reward him. "If he were not so young," said

some of them "he might be made grand vizier, the next in dignity to

the king, or be appointed governor of a province. But his youth

prevents his being placed over the people next to the king."

After longer consultation, the eldest of the councillors rose, and

said, "Omar, my king and lord, the youth has certainly performed a

great service to you and the princess Jasmin; it seems to me,

therefore, that his reward ought to come from you. It is fitting that

the king, having received from him a great benefit in his family,

should reward him from his family. Were I in such a case, I would

constitute him Mundiana, and give him for a wife the daughter whom he

has restored."

The whole assembly were of the same opinion, and the king gave them to

understand that this was also his wish. "I am old," said he, "and can

easily perceive that the cares of this land will soon need other hands

to support them. I shall be much pleased to see my daughter with so

good a husband. The prince Mundiana Mesoud, whom I had before chosen,

has disappeared; and this youth, although of lower birth, is of noble

soul, and will soon, under my guidance, acquire the necessary

experience to enable him to promote justice and order in my kingdom."

He did not delay, but immediately caused Medjeddin to be called. A

costly band of gold and silver was fastened round his forehead, and

the king then said, "I herewith appoint you Mundiana;" and the

assembled councillors immediately added their congratulations.

Medjeddin expressed his gratitude in becoming terms, but inquired,

smiling, what was the precise nature of the dignity conferred on him.

The eldest councillor stepped forward and said, "This name points out

the highest post of honour which the king can bestow. You are found

worthy of this honour, and no other lives who bears the title, because

the Mundiana Prince Mesoud has disappeared."

An elephant covered with costly trappings was now brought in by its

keeper, and upon it was a richly ornamented seat. On this the new

officer was placed, and led through the streets. Heralds went before

him, and cried aloud, "Listen to what Omar makes known to all people.

This youth has restored to him his dearest jewel, which he had lost.

In gratitude, the king has nominated him Mundiana, and has appointed

his daughter Jasmin for his wife. To-morrow the betrothal will be

celebrated; and every body is invited to the court of the palace to

partake of the general joy."

Medjeddin hardly knew how all this had come about. He had received

clothes and rich arms as a present from the king, and the king so

highly favoured him, that he was not only to be husband of the

princess Jasmin, but was to succeed Omar on the throne, and to reign

over that beautiful and rich land. In his happiness he forgot his

early life, his father's sorrow, and even his playfellow Maryam and

his father's faithful friend Salek, and thought no more of his home or

his father-land. The next day his betrothal with the princess was

celebrated with great pomp.

The Thousand and One Days: A Companion to the "Arabian Nights" · 第 21 / 27 段