KING SHAH BAKHT AND HIS WAZIR AL-RAHWAN.[295]

They relate that there was once, in days of yore and in bygone ages and

times long gone before, a king of the kings of the time, Shah Bakht

hight, who had troops and servants and guards in hosts and a Wazir

called Al-Rahwán, who was learned, understanding, a loyal counsellor and

a cheerful acceptor of the commandments of Almighty Allah, to whom

belong Honour and Glory. The king committed to this Minister the affairs

of his kingdom and his lieges and spake according to his word, and in

this way he abode a long space of time. Now this Wazir had many foes,

who envied his position and sought to do him harm, but thereunto found

no way and the Lord, in His immemorial foreknowledge and His

fore-ordinance decreed that the king dreamt that the Minister Al-Rahwan

gave him a fruit from off a tree and he ate it and died. So he awoke,

startled and troubled, and when the Wazir had presented himself before

him and had retired and the king was alone with those in whom he

trusted, he related to them his vision and they advised him to send for

the astrologers and interpreters and commended to him a Sage, whose

skill and wisdom they attested. Accordingly the king bade him be brought

and entreated him with honour and made him draw near to himself. Now

there had been in private intercourse with that Sage a company of the

Wazir’s enemies, who besought him to slander the Minister to the king

and counsel him to do him dead, in view of what they promised him of

much wealth; and he made agreement with them on this and acquainted the

king that the Minister would slay him within the coming month and bade

him hasten to put him to death, else would he surely be killed.

Presently, the Wazir entered and the king signed to him to clear the

place. So he signed to those who were present to withdraw, and they

withdrew; whereupon quoth the king to him, “How deemest thou, O Minister

of loyal counsel in all manner of contrivance, concerning a vision I

have seen in my sleep?” “What is it, O king?” asked the Wazir, and Shah

Bakht related to him his dream, adding, “And indeed the Sage interpreted

it to me and said to me:—An thou do not the Wazir dead within a month,

assuredly he will slay thee. Now to put the like of thee to death, I am

loath exceedingly, yet to leave thee on life do I sorely fear. How then

dost thou advise me act in this affair?” The Wazir bowed his head

earthwards awhile, then raised it and said, “Allah prosper the king!

Verily, it availeth not to continue him on life of whom the king is

afraid, and my counsel is that thou hasten to put me out of the world.”

When the king heard his speech and dove into the depths of his meaning,

he turned to him and said, “’Tis grievous to me, O Wazir of good rede;”

and he told him that the other sages had attested the wit and wisdom of

the astrophil. Now hearing these words Al-Rahwan sighed and knew that

the king went in fear of him; but he showed him fortitude and said to

him, “Allah assain the sovran! My rede is that the king carry out his

commandment and his decree be dight, for that needs must death be and

’tis fainer to me that I die oppressed, than that I die an oppressor.

But, an the king judge proper to postpone the putting of me to death

till the morrow and will pass this night with me and farewell me whenas

the morning cometh, the king shall do whatso he willeth.” Then he wept

till he wetted his gray hairs and the king was moved to ruth for him and

granted him that which he craved and vouchsafed him a respite for that

night.[296]

[Illustration]

The First Night of the Month.

When it was eventide, the king caused clear his sitting chamber and

summoned the Wazir, who presented himself and making his obeisance to

the king, kissed ground before him and related to him

_THE TALE OF THE MAN OF KHORASAN, HIS SON AND HIS TUTOR_.

There was once a man of Khorasan and he had a son, whose moral weal he

ardently wished; but the young man sought to be alone and far from the

eye of his father, so he might give himself up to pleasuring and

pleasance. Accordingly he sought of his sire leave to make the

pilgrimage to the Holy House of Allah and to visit the tomb of the

Prophet (whom Allah save and assain!). Now between them and Meccah was a

journey of five hundred parasangs; but his father could not contrary

him, for that the Holy Law had made pilgrimage[297] incumbent on him and

because of that which he hoped for him of improvement. So he joined unto

him a tutor, in whom he trusted, and gave him much money and took leave

of him. The son set out with his governor on the holy pilgrimage,[298]

and abode on the like wise, spending freely and using not thrift. Also

there was in his neighbourhood a poor man, who had a slave-girl of

passing beauty and grace, and the youth conceived a desire for her and

suffered sore cark and care for the love of her and her loveliness, so

that he was like to perish for passion; and she also loved him with a

love yet greater than his love for her. Accordingly, the damsel summoned

an old woman who used to visit her and acquainted her with her case,

saying, “An I foregather not with him, I shall die.” The crone promised

her that she would do her best to bring her to her desire; so she veiled

herself and repairing to the young man, saluted him with the salam and

acquainted him with the girl’s case, saying, “Her master is a greedy

wight; so do thou invite him and lure him with lucre, and he will sell

thee the handmaiden.” Accordingly, he made a banquet, and standing in

the man’s way, invited him[299] and brought him to his house, where they

sat down and ate and drank and abode in talk. Presently, the young man

said to the other, “I hear thou hast with thee a slave-girl, whom thou

desirest to sell;” but he said, “By Allah, O my lord, I have no mind to

sell her!” Quoth the youth, “I have heard that she cost thee a thousand

dinars, and I will give thee six hundred over and above that sum;” and

quoth the other, “I sell her to thee at that price.” So they fetched

notaries who wrote out the contract of sale, and the young man weighed

to the girl’s master half the purchase money, saying, “Let her be with

thee till I complete to thee the rest of the price and take my

hand-maid.” The owner consented to this and took of him a written bond

for the rest of the money, and the girl abode with her master, on

deposit.[300] As for the youth, he gave his governor a thousand dirhams

and sent him to his sire, to fetch money from him, so he might pay the

rest of the hand-maid’s price, saying to him, “Be not long away.” But

the tutor said in his mind, “How shall I fare to his father and say to

him, Thy son hath wasted thy money and made love with it?[301] With what

eye shall I look on him and, indeed, I am he in whom he confided and to

whom he hath entrusted his son? Verily, this were ill rede. Nay, I will

fare on with this pilgrimage-caravan[302] in despite of my fool of a

youth; and when he is weary of waiting, he will demand back his money

and return to his father, and I shall be quit of travail and trouble.”

So he went on with the pilgrimage-caravan[303] and took up his abode

there.[304] Meanwhile, the youth tarried expecting his tutor’s return,

but he returned not; wherefore concern and chagrin grew upon him because

of his mistress, and his yearning for her redoubled and he was like to

kill himself. She became aware of this and sent him a messenger, bidding

him visit her. Accordingly he went to her, and she questioned him of the

case; when he told her what was to do of the matter of his tutor, and

she said to him, “With me is longing the like of that which is with

thee, and I doubt me thy messenger hath perished or thy father hath

slain him; but I will give thee all my jewellery and my dresses, and do

thou sell them and weigh out the rest of my price, and we will go, I and

thou, to thy sire.” So she handed to him all she had and he sold it and

paid the rest of her price; after which there remained to him for

spending-money an hundred dirhams. These he spent and lay that night

with the damsel in all delight of life, and his sprite was like to fly

for joy: but when he arose in the morning, he sat weeping and the damsel

said to him, “What causeth thee to weep?” Said he, “I know not an my

father be dead, and he hath none other heir save myself; but how shall I

get to him, seeing I own not a dirham?” Quoth she, “I have a bangle;

sell it and buy seed-pearls with the price: then round them and fashion

them into great unions[305] and thereby thou shalt gain much money, with

the which we may find our way to thy country.” So he took the bangle and

repairing to a goldsmith, said to him, “Break up this bracelet and sell

it;” but he said, “The king seeketh a perfect bracelet: I will go to him

and bring thee its price.” Presently he bore the bangle to the Sultan

and it pleased him greatly by reason of its goodly workmanship. Then he

called an old woman, who was in his palace, and said to her, “Needs must

I have the mistress of this bracelet though but for a single night, or I

shall die;” and the old woman replied, “I will bring her to thee.”

Thereupon she donned a devotee’s dress and betaking herself to the

goldsmith, said to him, “To whom belongeth the bangle which is now with

the king?” and said he, “It belongeth to a stranger, who hath bought him

a slave-girl from this city and lodgeth with her in such a place.” Upon

this the old woman repaired to the young man’s house and knocked at the

door. The damsel opened to her and seeing her clad in devotee’s

garb,[306] saluted her with the salam and asked her saying, “Haply thou

hast some need of us?” Answered the old woman, “Yes, I desire a private

place, where I can perform the Wuzu-ablution;” and quoth the girl,

“Enter.” So she entered and did her requirement and made the ablution

and prayed:[307] then she brought out a rosary and began to tell her

beads thereon, and the damsel said to her, “Whence comest thou, O

pilgrimess?”[308] Said she, “From visiting the Idol of the Absent in

such a church.[309] There standeth up no woman before him[310], who hath

a distant friend and discloseth to him her desire, but he acquainteth

her with her case and giveth her news of her absent one.” Said the

damsel “O pilgrimess, we have an absent one, and my lord’s heart

cleaveth to him and I desire to go question the Idol of him.” Quoth the

crone, “Do thou wait till to-morrow and ask leave of thy spouse, and I

will come to thee and fare with thee in weal and welfare.” Then she went

away, and when the girl’s master came, she sought his permission to go

with the old trot, and he gave her leave. So the beldame came and took

her and carried her to the king’s door, she, unknowing whither she went.

The damsel entered with her and beheld a goodly house and decorated

apartments which were no idol’s chamber. Then came the king and seeing

her beauty and loveliness, went up to her to buss her; whereupon she

fell down in a fainting fit and struck out with her hands and feet.[311]

When he saw this, he held aloof from her in ruth and left her; but the

matter was grievous to her and she refused meat and drink, and as often

as the king drew near to her, she fled from him in fear, so he swore by

Allah that he would not approach her save with her consent and fell to

presenting her with ornaments and raiment; but her aversion to him only

increased. Meanwhile, the youth her master abode expecting her; but she

returned not and his heart already tasted the bitter draught of

separation; so he went forth at hap-hazard, distracted and knowing not

what he should do, and began strewing dust upon his head and crying out,

“The old woman hath taken her and gone away!” The little boys followed

him with stones and pelted him, crying, “A madman! A madman!” Presently,

the king’s Chamberlain, who was a personage of years and worth, met him,

and when he saw this youth, he forbade the boys and drave them away from

him, after which he accosted him and asked him of his affair. So he told

him his tale and the Chamberlain said to him, “Fear not! I will deliver

thy slave-girl for thee; so calm thy concern.” And he went on to speak

him fair and comfort him, till he had firm reliance on his word. Then he

carried him to his home and stripping him of his clothes, clad him in

rags; after which he called an old woman, who was his housekeeper,[312]

and said to her, “Take this youth and bind on his neck yon iron chain

and go round about with him in all the great thoroughfares of the city,

and when thou hast done this, go up with him to the palace of the king.”

And he said to the youth, “In whatsoever stead thou seest the damsel,

speak not a syllable, but acquaint me with her place and thou shalt owe

her deliverance to none save to me.” The youth thanked him and went with

the old woman in such fashion as the Chamberlain bade him. She fared on

with him till they entered the city, and walked all about it; after

which she went up to the palace of the king and fell to saying, “O

fortune’s favourites, look on a youth whom the devils take twice in the

day and pray to be preserved from such affliction!” And she ceased not

to go round with him till she came to the eastern wing[313] of the

palace, whereupon the slave-girls hurried out to look upon him and when

they saw him they were amazed at his beauty and loveliness and wept for

him. Then they informed the damsel, who came forth and considered him

and knew him not; but he knew her; so he drooped his head and shed

tears. She was moved to pity for him and gave him somewhat and went back

to her place, whilst the youth returned with the housekeeper to the

Chamberlain and told him that she was in the king’s mansion, whereat he

was chagrined and said, “By Allah, I will assuredly devise a device for

her and deliver her!” Whereupon the youth kissed his hands and feet.

Then he turned to the old woman and bade her change her habit and her

semblance. Now this ancient dame was sweet of speech and winsome of wit;

so he gave her costly and delicious ottars and said to her, “Get thee to

the king’s slave-girls and sell them these essences and win thy way to

the damsel and ask her if she desire her master or not.” So the old

woman went out and making her way to the palace, went in to the

hand-maid and drew near her and recited these couplets:—

Allah preserve our Union-days and their delights. ✿ Ah me! How sweet was

life! how joys were ever new!

May he not be who cursed us twain with parting day; ✿ How many a bone he

brake, how many a life he slew!

He shed my faultless tear-floods and my sinless blood; ✿ And beggaring

me of love himself no richer grew.

When the damsel heard the old woman’s verses, she wept till her clothes

were drenched and drew near the speaker, who asked her, “Knowest thou

such-an-one?” And she wept and answered, “He is my lord. Whence knowest

thou him?” Rejoined the old woman, “O my lady, sawest thou not the

madman who came hither yesterday with the old woman? He was thy lord,”

presently adding, “But this is no time for talk. When ’tis night, get

thee to the top of the palace and wait on the terrace till thy lord come

to thee and compass thy deliverance.” Then she gave her what she would

of perfumes and returning to the Chamberlain, acquainted him with whatso

had passed, and he told the youth. Now as soon as it was evening, the

Chamberlain bade bring two hackneys and great store of water and

provaunt and a riding-camel and a fellow to show them the way. These he

ambushed without the town whilst he and the young man, taking with them

a long rope, made fast to a staple, went and stood below the palace.

Whenas they came thither, they looked and behold, the damsel was

standing on the terrace-roof, so they threw her the rope and the staple,

which she made fast, and tucking up her sleeves above her wrists, slid

down and landed with them. They carried her without the town, where they

mounted, she and her lord, and fared on, with the guide in front,[314]

directing them on the way, and they ceased not faring night and day till

they entered his father’s house. The young man greeted his sire, who was

gladdened in him, and to whom he related all that had befallen him,

whereupon he rejoiced in his safety. As for the tutor, he wasted whatso

was with him and returned to the city, where he saw the youth and

excused himself. Then he questioned him of what had betided him and he

told him, whereat he admired and returned to companionship with him; but

the youth ceased to have regard for him and gave him nor solde nor

ration as was his wont, neither discovered to him aught of his secrets.

When the tutor saw that there was no profit from him he returned to the

king, the ravisher of the slave-girl, and recounted to him what the

Chamberlain had done and counselled him to slay that official and egged

him on to recover the damsel, promising to give his friend a

poison-draught and return. Accordingly the king sent for the Chamberlain

and chid him for the deed he had done; whereat the king’s servants

incontinently fell upon the Chamberlain and put him to death. Meanwhile

the tutor returned to the youth, who asked him of his absence, and he

told him that he had been in the city of the king who had taken the

slave-girl. When the youth heard this, he misdoubted of his governor and

never again trusted him in anything but was always on his guard against

him. Then the tutor without stay or delay caused prepare great store of

sweetmeats and put in them deadly poison and presented them to the

youth, who, when he saw those sweetmeats, said to himself, “This is an

extraordinary thing of the tutor! Needs must there be in this sweetmeat

some mischief, and I will make proof of his confectionery upon himself.”

Accordingly he got ready food and set amongst it a portion of the

sweetmeat, and inviting the governor to his house placed the provaunt

before him. He ate, and amongst the rest which they brought him, the

poisoned sweetmeat; so while in the act of eating he died; whereby the

youth knew that this was a plot against himself and said, “Whoso seeketh

his fortune by his own force[315] attaineth a failure.” “Nor,” continued

the Wazir, “is this, O king of the age, stranger than the story of the

Druggist and his Wife and the Singer.” When King Shah Bakht heard the

tale of Al-Rahwan he gave him leave to withdraw to his own house and he

tarried there the rest of the night and the next day till eventide

evened.

The Second Night of the Month.

When the evening evened, the king sat private in his sitting-chamber and

his mind was occupied with the story of the Singer and the Druggist. So

he called the Wazir and bade him tell the tale. Answered he, “I will

well. They recount, O my lord, the following

_TALE OF THE SINGER AND THE DRUGGIST_.”

There was once in the city of Hamadán[316] a young man of seemly

semblance and skilled in singing to the lute; wherefore he was well seen

of the citizens. He went forth one day of his home with intent to

travel, and gave not over journeying till his travel brought him to a

town and a goodly. Now he had with him a lute and its appurtenance,[317]

so he entered and went round about the streets till he happened upon a

druggist who, when he espied him, called to him. So he went up to him

and he bade him sit down; accordingly, the youth sat down by his side,

and the druggist questioned him of his case. The singer told him what

was in his mind, and the pharmacist took him up into his shop and bought

him food and fed him. Then said he to him, “Rise and take up thy lute

and beg about the streets, and whenas thou smellest the reek of wine,

break in upon the drinkers and say to them, I am a singer. They will

laugh and cry, Come in to us. And when thou singest, the folk will know

thee and speak one to other of thee; so shalt thou become known about

town, and thou shalt better thy business.” He went round about, as the

druggist bade him, till the sun waxed hot, but found none drinking. Then

he entered a lane, that he might take rest, and seeing there a handsome

house and a lofty, stood in its shade and fell to observing the

excellence of its edification. Now while he was thus engaged, behold, a

casement opened and there appeared thereat a face, as it were the moon.

Quoth the owner of the face, “What aileth thee to stand there? Dost thou

want aught?” And quoth he, “I am a stranger,” and acquainted her with

his adventure; whereupon asked she, “What sayst thou to meat and drink

and the enjoyment of a fair face and getting thee spending-money?” And

he answered, “O mistress mine, this is my desire whereof I am going

about in quest!” So she opened the door to him and brought him in: then

she seated him at the upper end of the room and served him with food. He

ate and drank and lay with her and futtered her. This ended, she sat

down in his lap and they toyed and laughed and exchanged kisses till the

day was half done, when her husband came home and she had no recourse

but to hide the singer in a mat[318], in which she rolled him up. The

husband entered and seeing the battle-place[319] disordered and smelling

the reek of liquor questioned her of this. Quoth she, “I had with me a

bosom friend of mine and I conjured her to crack a cup with me; and so

we drank a jar full, I and she, and but now, before thy coming in, she

fared forth.” Her husband deemed her words true and went away to his

shop, he being none other than the singer’s friend the druggist, who had

invited him and fed him; whereupon the lover came forth and he and the

lady returned to their pleasant pastime and abode on this wise till

evening, when she gave him money and said to him, “To-morrow in the

forenoon come hither to me.” He replied, “Yes,” and departed; and at

nightfall he went to the Hammam-bath. On the morrow, he betook himself

to the shop of his friend the druggist, who welcomed him as soon as he

saw him, and questioned him of his case and how he had fared that day.

Quoth the singer, “Allah requite thee with welfare, O my brother, for

indeed thou hast directed me to a restful life!” Then he acquainted him

with his adventure and told him the tale of the woman, till he came to

the mention of her husband, when he said, “And at midday came the horned

cuckold,[320] her husband, and knocked at the door. So she wrapped me in

the mat, and when he had wended his ways I came forth and we returned to

our pleasant play.” This was grievous to the druggist, and he repented

of having taught him how he should do and suspected his wife.

Accordingly he asked the singer, “And what said she to thee at thy going

away?” and the other answered, “She said, Come back to me on the morrow.

So, behold, I am off to her and I came not hither but that I might

acquaint thee with this, lest thy thoughts be pre-occupied with me.”

Then he farewelled him, and walked out. As soon as the druggist was

assured that he had reached the house, he cast the net[321] over his

shop and made for his home, in some suspicion of his wife, and knocked

at the door. Now the singer had entered and the druggist’s wife said to

him, “Up with thee and enter this chest.” Accordingly he entered it and

she shut it down on him and opened to her husband, who came in all

distraught, and searched the house but found none and overlooked the

chest. Hereat he said in his mind “The house[322] is one which favoureth

my house and the woman is one who favoureth my wife,” and returned to

his shop; whereupon the singer came forth of the chest and falling upon

the druggist’s wife, had his wicked will of her and spent upon her what

was her due, and weighed down the scale for her with full measure. Then

they ate and drank and kissed and clipped necks, and in this way they

abode till the evening, when she gave him money, because she found his

weaving nice and good,[323] and made him promise to come to her on the

morrow. So he left her and slept his night and on the morrow he returned

to the shop of his friend the druggist and saluted him. The other

welcomed him and questioned him of his case; whereat he told his tale

till he ended with the mention of the woman’s husband, when he said,

“Then came the horned cuckold, her mate and she stowed me away in the

chest and shut down the lid upon me, whilst her addlepated pander[324]

of a husband went about the house, top and bottom; and when he had gone

his way, we returned to our pleasant pastime.” With this, the druggist

was assured that the house was his house and the wife his wife, and

quoth he, “Now what wilt thou do to-day?” Quoth the singer, “I shall

return to her and weave for her and full her yarn[325], and I came

not[326] save to thank thee for thy dealing with me.” Then he went away,

whilst the fire was loosed in the heart of the druggist and he shut his

shop and returning to his house, rapped at the door. Said the singer,

“Let me jump into the chest, for he saw me not yesterday;” but said she,

“No! wrap thyself up in the mat.” So he wrapped himself up and stood in

a corner of the room, whilst the druggist entered and went no whither

else save to the chest, but found naught inside. Then he walked round

about the house and searched it, top and bottom, but came upon nothing

and no one and abode between belief and disbelief, and said to himself,

“Haply, I suspect my wife of what is not in her.” So he was certified of

her innocence and going forth content, returned to his shop, whereupon

out came the singer and they resumed their former little game, as was

their wont, till eventide when she gave him one of her husband’s shirts

and he took it and going away, nighted in his own lodging. Next morning

he repaired to the druggist, who saluted him with the salam and came to

meet him and rejoiced in him and smiled in his face, deeming his wife

innocent. Then he questioned him of his case on yesterday and he told

him how he had fared, saying, “O my brother, when the cornute knocked at

the door, I would have jumped into the chest; but his wife forbade me

and rolled me up in the mat. The man entered and thought of nothing save

the chest; so he brake it open and woned like one jinn-mad, going up and

coming down. Then he went about his business and I came out and we abode

on our accustomed case till eventide, when she gave me this shirt of her

husband’s; and behold, I am now off to her.” When the druggist heard the

singer’s words, he was assured of the adventure and knew that the

calamity, all of it, was in his own house and that the wife was his

wife; and he considered the shirt, whereupon he redoubled in assuredness

and said to the singer, “Art thou now going to her?” Said he, “Yes, O my

brother,” and taking leave of him, went away; whereupon the druggist

started up, as he were stark mad, and dismantled his shop.[327] Whilst

he was thus doing, the singer won to the house, and presently up came

the druggist and knocked at the door. The lover would have wrapped

himself up in the mat, but she forbade him and said, “Get thee down to

the ground floor of the house and enter the oven-jar[328] and close the

cover upon thyself.” So he did her bidding and she went down to her

husband and opened the door to him, whereupon he came in and went round

the house, but found no one and overlooked the oven-jar. Then he stood

musing and sware that he would not again go forth of the house till the

morrow. As for the singer, when his stay in the oven-jar grew longsome

upon him, he came forth therefrom, thinking that her husband had gone

away; and he went up to the terrace-roof and looking down, beheld his

friend the druggist: whereat he was sore concerned and said in himself,

“Alas, the disgrace, ah! This is my friend the druggist, who of me was

fain and dealt me fair and I have paid him with foul.” He feared to

return to the druggist; so he stepped down and opened the first door and

would have gone out at a venture, unseen of the husband; but, when he

came to the outer door, he found it locked and saw not the key. Hereat

he returned to the terrace and began dropping from roof to roof till the

people of the house heard him and hastened to fall upon him, deeming him

a thief. Now that house belonged to a Persian man; so they laid hands on

him and the house-master fell to beating him, saying to him, “Thou art a

thief.” He replied, “No I am not a thief, but a singing-man, a stranger

who, hearing your voices, came to sing to you.” When the folk heard his

words, they talked of letting him go; but the Persian said, “O folk, let

not his speech cozen you. This one is none other than a thief who

knoweth how to sing, and when he cometh upon the like of us, he is a

singer.” Said they, “O our lord, this man is a stranger, and needs we

must release him.” Quoth he, “By Allah, my heart heaveth at this fellow!

Let me kill him with beating;” but quoth they, “Thou mayst no ways do

that.” So they delivered the singer from the Persian, the master of the

house, and seated him amongst them, whereupon he began singing to them

and they rejoiced in him. Now the Persian had a Mameluke,[329] as he

were the full moon, and he arose and went out, and the singer followed

him and wept before him, professing lustful love to him and kissing his

hands and feet. The Mameluke took compassion on him and said to him,

“When the night cometh and my master entereth the Harim and the folk

fare away, I will grant thee thy desire; and I sleep in such a place.”

Then the singer returned and sat with the cup-companions, and the

Persian rose and went out with the Mameluke by his side. Now[330] the

singer knew the place which the Mameluke occupied at the first of the

night; but it chanced that the youth rose from his stead and the waxen

taper went out. The Persian, who was drunk, fell over on his face, and

the singer supposing him to be the Mameluke, said, “By Allah, ’tis

good!” and threw himself upon him and began to work at his bag-trousers

till the string was loosed; then he brought out[331] his prickle upon

which he spat and slipped it into him. Thereupon the Persian started up,

crying out and, laying hands on the singer, pinioned him and beat him a

grievous beating, after which he bound him to a tree that stood in the

house-court. Now there was in the house a beautiful singing-girl and

when she saw the singer tight pinioned and tied to the tree, she waited

till the Persian lay down on his couch, when she arose and going up to

the singer, fell to condoling with him over what had betided him and

making eyes at him and handling his yard and rubbing it, till it rose

upright. Then said she to him, “Do with me the deed of kind and I will

loose thy pinion-bonds, lest he return and beat thee again; for he

purposeth thee an ill purpose.” Quoth he, “Loose me and I will do it;”

but quoth she, “I fear that, an I loose thee, thou wilt not do it. But I

will do it and thou have me standing; and when I have done, I will loose

thee.” So saying, she opened her clothes and introducing the singer’s

prickle, fell to toing and froing.[332] Now there was in the house a

fighting-ram, which the Persian had trained to butting,[333] and when he

saw what the woman was doing, he thought she wished to do battle with

him; so he broke his halter and running at her, butted her and split her

skull. She fell on her back and shrieked; whereupon the Persian started

up hastily from sleep and seeing the singing-girl on her back and the

singer with yard on end, cried to him, “O accursed, doth not what thou

hast erewhile done suffice thee?” Then he beat him a shrewd beating and

opening the door, thrust him out in the middle of the night. He lay the

rest of the dark hours in one of the ruins, and when he arose in the

morning, he said, “None is in fault! I, for one, sought my own good, and

he is no fool who seeketh good for himself; and the druggist’s wife also

sought good for herself; but Predestination overcometh Precaution and

for me there remaineth no tarrying in this town.” So he went forth from

the place. “Nor” (continued the Wazir), “is this story, strange though

it be, stranger than that of the King and his Son and that which betided

them of wonders and rare marvels.” When the king heard this story, he

deemed it pretty and pleasant and said, “This tale is near unto that

which I know and ’tis my rede I should do well to have patience and

hasten not to slay my Minister, so I may get of him the profitable story

of the King and his Son.” Then he gave the Wazir leave to go away to his

own house; so he thanked him and tarried in his home all that day.

The Third Night of the Month.

When it was supper-time the king sought the sitting-chamber; and,

summoning the Wazir, sought of him the story he had promised him; and

the Minister said, “They tell, O king,

_THE TALE OF THE KING WHO KENNED THE QUINTESSENCE[334] OF THINGS_.”

There came to a king of the kings, in his old age, a son, who grew up

comely, quick-witted, clever: and, when he reached years of discretion

and became a young man, his father said to him, “Take this realm and

rule it in lieu of me, for I desire to flee from the sin of

sovranty[335] to Allah the Most High and don the woollen dress and

devote all my time to devotion.” Quoth the Prince, “And I am another who

desireth to take refuge with the Almighty.” So the king said, “Arise,

let us flee forth and make for the mountains and there worship in shame

before God the Most Great.” Accordingly, the twain gat them gear of wool

and clothing themselves therewith, fared forth and wandered in the wolds

and wastes; but, when some days had passed over them, both became weak

for hunger and repented them of that they had done whenas penitence

profited them not, and the Prince complained to his father of weariness

and hunger. Cried the king, “Dear my son, I did with thee that which

behoved me,[336] but thou wouldst not hearken to me, and now there is no

means of returning to thy former estate, for that another hath taken the

kingdom and defendeth it from all foes: but indeed I will counsel thee

of somewhat, wherein do thou pleasure me by compliance.” The Prince

asked, “What is it?” and his father answered, “Take me and go with me to

the market-street and sell me and receive my price and do with it whatso

thou willest, and I shall become the property of one who shall provide

for my wants.” The Prince enquired, “Who will buy thee of me, seeing

thou art a very old man? Nay, do thou rather sell me, inasmuch as the

demand for me will be more.” But the king replied, “An thou wert king,

thou wouldest require service of me.” Accordingly the youth obeyed his

father’s bidding and taking him, carried him to the slave-dealer and

said, “Sell me this old man.” Said the dealer, “Who will buy this wight,

and he a son of eighty years?”[337] Then quoth he to the king, “In what

crafts art thou cunning?” and quoth he, “I ken the quintessence of

jewels and I ken the quintessence of horses and I ken the quintessence

of men; brief, I ken the quintessence of all things.” So the

slave-dealer took him and went about, offering him for sale to the folk;

but none would buy. Presently, up came the Chef of the Sultan’s kitchen

and asked, “What is this man?” and the dealer answered, “This be a

Mameluke for sale.” The kitchener marvelled at this and bought the king,

after questioning him of what he could do, for ten thousand dirhams.

Then he weighed out the money and carried him to his house, but dared

not employ him in aught of service; so he appointed him an allowance, a

modicum sufficient for his maintenance, and repented him of having

bought him, saying, “What shall I do with the like of this wight?”

Presently, the king of the city was minded to go forth to his

garden,[338] a-pleasuring, and bade the cook precede him and appoint in

his stead one who should dress the royal meat, so that, when he

returned, he might find the meal ready. The Chef fell to thinking of

whom he should appoint and was perplexed concerning his affair. As he

was thus, the Shaykh came to him, and seeing him distraught as to how he

should do, said to him, “Tell me what is in thy mind; haply I may bring

thee relief.” So he acquainted him with the king’s wishes and he said,

“Have no care for this, but leave me one of the serving-men and do thou

go companying thy lord in peace and surety, for I will suffice thee of

this.” Hereat the cook departed with the king, after he had brought the

old man what he needed and left him a man of the guards; and when he was

gone, the Shaykh bade the trooper wash the kitchen-battery and made

ready food exceedingly fine. When the king returned he set the meat

before him, and he tasted dishes whose like he had never savoured;

whereat he was startled and asked who had dressed it. Accordingly they

acquainted him with the Shaykh’s case and he summoned him to his

presence and asking him anent the mystery, increased his allowance of

rations;[339] moreover, he bade that they should cook together, he and

the kitchener, and the old man obeyed his bidding. Some time after this,

there came two merchants to the king with two pearls of price and each

of them declared that his pearl was worth a thousand dinars, but the

folk was incompetent to value them. Then said the cook, “Allah prosper

the king! Verily, the Shaykh whom I bought affirmed that he knew the

quintessence of jewels and that he was skilled in cookery. We have tried

him in his cuisine, and have found him the most knowing of men; and now,

if we send after him and prove him on jewels, his second claim will be

made manifest to us, whether true or false.” So the king bade fetch the

Shaykh and he came and stood before the Sultan, who showed him the two

pearls. Quoth he, “Now for this one, ’tis worth a thousand dinars;” and

quoth the king, “So saith its owner.” “But for this other,” continued

the old man, “’tis worth only five hundred.” The people laughed and

admired his saying, and the merchant who owned the second pearl asked

him, “How can this, which is bigger of bulk and worthier for water and

righter of rondure, be less of value than that?” and the old man

answered, “I have said what is with me.”[340] Then quoth the king to

him, “Indeed, the outer semblance thereof is like that of the other

pearl; why then is it worth but the half of its price?” and quoth the

old man, “Yes, but its inward is corrupt.” Asked the merchant, “Hath a

pearl then an inward and an outward?” and the Shaykh answered, “Yea! In

its interior is a teredo, a boring worm; but the other pearl is sound

and secure against breakage.” The merchant continued, “Give us approof

of this thy knowledge and confirm to us the truth of thy saying;” and

the old man rejoined, “We will break it: an I prove a liar, here is my

head, and if I speak sooth, thou wilt have lost thy pearl;” and the

merchant said, “I agree to that.” So they brake the pearl and it was

even as the old man had declared, to wit, in the heart of it was a

boring worm. The king marvelled at what he saw and questioned him of how

he came by the knowledge of this. The Shaykh replied, “O king, this kind

of jewel is engendered in the belly of a creature called the oyster[341]

and its origin is a drop of rain and it resisteth the touch and groweth

not warm whilst hent in hand:[342] so, when its outer coat became tepid

to my touch, I knew that it harboured some living thing, for that things

of life thrive not save in heat.” Therefore the king said to the cook,

“Increase his allowance;” and the Chef appointed to him fresh rations.

Now some time after this, two merchants presented themselves to the king

with two horses, and one said, “I ask a thousand ducats for my horse,”

and the other, “I seek five thousand ducats for mine.” Quoth the cook,

“We are now familiar with the old man’s just judgment; what deemeth the

king of fetching him?” So the king bade fetch him, and when he saw the

two horses,[343] he said, “This is worth a thousand and that two

thousand ducats.” Quoth the folk, “This horse thou misjudgest is

evidently a thoroughbred and he is younger and faster and compacter of

limb and finer of head and clearer of colour and skin than the other;”

presently adding, “What assurance hast thou of the sooth of thy saying?”

And the old man said, “This ye state is true, all true; but his sire is

old and this other is the son of a young horse. Now, when the son of an

old horse standeth still a-breathing, his breath returneth not to him

and his rider falleth into the hand of him who followeth after him; but

the son of a young horse, an thou put him to speed and after making him

run, alight from him, thou wilt find him, by reason of his robustness,

untired.” Quoth the merchant, “’Tis even as the Shaykh avoucheth and he

is an excellent judge.” And the king said, “Increase his allowance.” But

the Shaykh stood still and did not go away; so the king asked him, “Why

dost thou not go about thy business?” and he answered, “My business is

with the king.” Said the king, “Name what thou wouldest have,” and the

other replied, “I would have thee question me of the quintessence of

men, even as thou hast questioned me of the quintessence of horses.”

Quoth the king, “We have no occasion to question thee thereof;” but

quoth the old man, “I have occasion to acquaint thee.” “Say what thou

wilt,” rejoined the king, and the Shaykh said, “Verily, the king is the

son of a baker.” Cried the king, “How and whereby kennest thou that?”

and the Shaykh replied, “Know, O king, that I have examined into degrees

and dignities[344] and have learned this.” Thereupon the king went in to

his mother and asked her anent his sire, and she told him that the king

her husband was impotent;[345] “So,” quoth she, “I feared for the

kingdom, lest it pass away, after his death; wherefore I yielded my

person to a young man, a baker, and conceived by him and bare a

man-child;[346] and the kingship came into the hand of my son, that is,

thyself.” So the king returned to the Shaykh and said to him, “I am

indeed the son of a baker; so do thou expound to me the means whereby

thou knewest me for this.” Quoth the other, “I knew that, hadst thou

been the son of a king, thou wouldst have gifted me with things of

price, such as rubies and the like; and wert thou the son of a Kazi,

thou hadst given largesse of a dirham or two dirhams, and wert thou the

son of any of the merchants, thou hadst given me muchel of money. But I

saw that thou bestowedst upon me naught save two bannocks of bread and

other rations, wherefore I knew thee to be the son of a baker;” and

quoth the king, “Thou hast hit the mark.” Then he gave him wealth galore

and advanced him to high estate. The tale aforesaid pleased King Shah

Bakht and he marvelled thereat; but the Wazir said to him, “This story

is not stranger than that of the Richard who married his beautiful

daughter to the poor Shaykh.” The king’s mind was occupied with the

promised tale and he bade the Wazir withdraw to his lodging; so he went

and abode there the rest of the night and the whole of the following

day.

The Fourth Night of the Month.

When the evening evened, the king sat private in his sitting-chamber and

bade fetch the Wazir. When he presented himself before him, he said to

him, “Tell me the tale of the Richard.” The Minister replied, “I will.

Hear, O puissant king,

_THE TALE OF THE RICHARD WHO MARRIED HIS BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTER TO THE POOR

OLD MAN_.”

A certain rich merchant had a beautiful daughter, who was as the full

moon, and when she attained the age of fifteen, her father betook

himself to an old man and spreading him a carpet in his sitting-chamber,

gave him to eat and conversed and caroused with him. Then said he to

him, “I desire to marry thee to my daughter.” The other drew back,

because of his poverty, and said to him, “I am no husband for her nor am

I a match for thee.” The merchant was urgent with him, but he repeated

his answer to him, saying, “I will not consent to this till thou

acquaint me with the cause of thy desire for me. An I find it

reasonable, I will fall in with thy wish; and if not, I will not do this

ever.” Quoth the merchant, “Thou must know that I am a man from the land

of China and was in my youth well-favoured and well-to-do. Now I made no

account of womankind, one and all, but followed after youths[347], and

one night I saw, in a dream, as it were a balance set up, and hard by it

a voice said, ‘This is the portion of Such-an-one.’ I listened and

presently I heard my own name; so I looked and behold, there stood a

woman loathly to the uttermost; whereupon I awoke in fear and cried, ‘I

will never marry, lest haply this fulsome female fall to my lot.’ Then I

set out for this city with merchandise and the journey was pleasant to

me and the sojourn here, so that I took up my abode in the place for a

length of time and gat me friends and factors. At last I sold all my

stock-in-trade and collected its price and there was left me nothing to

occupy me till the folk[348] should depart and I depart with them. One

day, I changed my clothes and putting gold into my sleeve, sallied forth

to inspect the holes and corners of this city, and as I was wandering

about, I saw a handsome house: its seemliness pleased me; so I stood

looking on it and beheld a lovely woman at the window. When she saw me,

she made haste and descended, whilst I abode confounded. Then I betook

myself to a tailor there and questioned him of the house and anent whose

it was.” Quoth he, “It belongeth to Such-an-one the Notary,[349] God

damn him!” I asked, “Is he her sire?” and he answered, “Yes.” So I

repaired in great hurry to a man, with whom I had been wont to deposit

my goods for sale, and told him I desired to gain access to Such-an-one

the Notary. Accordingly he assembled his friends and we betook ourselves

to the Notary’s house. When we came in to him, we saluted him and sat

with him, and I said to him, “I come to thee as a suitor, desiring in

marriage the hand of thy daughter.” He replied, “I have no daughter

befitting this man;” and I rejoined, “Allah aid thee! My desire is for

thee and not for her.”[350] But he still refused and his friends said to

him, “This is an honourable match and a man thine equal, nor is it

lawful to thee that thou hinder the young lady of her good luck.” Quoth

he to them, “She will not suit him!” nevertheless they were instant with

him till at last he said, “Verily, my daughter whom ye seek is passing

ill-favoured and in her are all blamed qualities of person.” And I said,

“I accept her, though she be as thou sayest.” Then said the folk,

“Extolled be Allah! Cease we to talk of a thing settled; so say the

word, how much wilt thou have to her marriage-settlement?” Quoth he, “I

must have four thousand sequins;” and I said, “To hear is to obey!”

Accordingly the affair was concluded and we drew up the contract of

marriage and I made the bride-feast; but on the wedding-night I beheld a

thing[351] than which never made Allah Almighty aught more fulsome.

Methought her folk had devised this freak byway of fun; so I laughed and

looked for my mistress, whom I had seen at the window, to make her

appearance; but saw her not. When the affair was prolonged and I found

none but her, I was like to lose my wits for vexation and fell to

beseeching my Lord and humbling myself in supplication before Him that

He would deliver me from her. When I arose in the morning, there came

the chamberwoman and said to me, “Hast thou need of the bath[352]?” I

replied, “No”; and she asked, “Art thou for breakfast?” But I still

answered “No;” and on this wise I abode three days, tasting neither meat

nor drink. When the young woman my wife saw me in this plight, she said

to me, “O man, tell me thy tale, for, by Allah, if I may effect thy

deliverance, I will assuredly further thee thereto.” I gave ear to her

speech and put faith in her sooth and acquainted her with the adventure

of the damsel whom I had seen at the window and how I had fallen in love

with her; whereupon quoth she, “An that girl belong to me, whatso I

possess is thine, and if she belong to my sire, I will demand her of him

and detain her from him and deliver her to thee.” Then she fell to

summoning hand-maid after hand-maid and showing them to me, till I saw

the damsel whom I loved and said, “This is she.” Quoth my wife, “Let not

thy heart be troubled, for this is my slave-girl. My father gave her to

me and I give her to thee:[353] so comfort thyself and be of good cheer

and of eyes cool and clear.” Then, when it was night, she brought the

girl to me, after she had adorned her and perfumed her, and said to her,

“Cross not this thy lord in aught and every that he shall seek of thee.”

When she came to bed with me, I said in myself, “Verily, this my spouse

is more generous than I!” Then I sent away the slave-girl and drew not

near her, but arose forthwith and betaking myself to my wife, lay with

her and abated her maidenhead. She conceived by me at the first bout;

and, accomplishing the time of her pregnancy, gave birth to this dear

little daughter; in whom I rejoiced, for that she was beautiful

exceedingly, and she hath inherited her mother’s sound sense and the

comeliness of her sire. Indeed, many of the notables of the people have

sought her of me in wedlock, but I would not wed her to any, because I

saw in a dream, one night, that same balance set up and men and women

being therein weighed, one against other, and meseemed I saw thee and

her and the voice said to me, ‘This is such a man, the portion of such a

woman.’[354] Wherefore I knew that Almighty Allah had allotted unto her

none other than thyself, and I choose rather to marry thee to her in my

lifetime than that thou shouldst marry her after my death.” When the

poor man heard the merchant’s story, he became desirous of wedding his

daughter: so he took her to wife and was blessed of her with exceeding

love. “Nor” (continued the Wazir), “is this story on any wise stranger

or this tale rarer than that of the Sage and his three Sons.” When the

king heard his Minister’s story, he was assured that he would not slay

him and said, “I will have patience with him, so I may get of him the

story of the Sage and his three Sons.” And he bade him depart to his own

house.

The Fifth Night of the Month.

When the evening evened, the king sat private in his chamber and

summoning the Wazir, required of him the promised story. So Al-Rahwan

said, “Hear, O king,

_THE TALE OF THE SAGE AND HIS THREE SONS_.”[355]

There was once a Sage of the sages, who had three sons and sons’ sons,

and when they waxed many and their seed multiplied, there befel

dissension between them. So he assembled them and said to them, “Be ye

single-handed against all others and despise not one another lest the

folk despise you, and know that your case is the case of the man and the

rope which he cut easily, when it was single; then he doubled it and

could not cut it: on this wise is division and union.[356] And beware

lest ye seek help of others against your own selves or ye will fall into

perdition, for by what means soever ye win your wish at his hand, his

word will rank higher than your word. Now I have money which I will

presently bury in a certain place, that it may be a store for you

against the time of your need.” Then they left him and dispersed and one

of the sons fell to spying upon his sire, so that he saw him hide the

hoard outside the city. When he had made an end of burying it, the Sage

returned to his house; and as soon as the morning morrowed, his son

repaired to the place where he had seen his father bury the treasure and

dug and took all the wealth he found and fared forth. When the old man

felt that his death[357] drew nigh, he called his sons to him and

acquainted them with the place where he had hidden his hoard. As soon as

he was dead, they went and dug up the treasure and came upon much

wealth, for that the money, which the first son had taken singly and by

stealth, was on the surface and he knew not that under it were other

monies. So they carried it off and divided it and the first son claimed

his share with the rest and added it to that which he had before taken,

behind the backs of his father and his brethren. Then he married his

cousin, the daughter of his father’s brother and was blessed through her

with a male-child, who was the goodliest of the folk of his time. When

the boy grew up, his father feared for him poverty and decline of case,

so he said to him, “Dear my son, know that during my green days I

wronged my brothers in the matter of our father’s good, and I see thee

in weal; but, an thou come to want, ask not one of them nor any other

than they, for I have laid up for thee in yonder chamber a treasure; but

do not thou open it until thou come to lack thy daily bread.” Then the

man died, and his money, which was a great matter, fell to his son. The

young man had not patience to wait till he had made an end of that which

was with him, but rose and opened the chamber, and behold, it was empty

and its walls were whitened, and in its midst was a rope hanging down as

for a bucket and ten bricks, one upon other, and a scroll, wherein was

written, “There is no help against death; so hang thyself and beg not of

any, but kick away the bricks with thy toes, that there may be no escape

for thy life, and thou shalt be at rest from the exultation of enemies

and enviers and the bitterness of beggary.” Now when the youth saw this,

he marvelled at that which his father had done and said, “This is an ill

treasure.” Then he went forth and fell to eating and drinking with the

folk, till naught was left him and he passed two days without tasting

food, at the end of which time he took a handkerchief and selling it for

two dirhams, bought bread and milk with the price and left it on the

shelf and went out. Whilst he was gone, a dog came and seized the bread

and polluted the milk, and when the young man returned and saw this, he

beat his face, and fared forth distraught. Presently, he met a friend,

to whom he discovered his case, and the other said to him, “Art thou not

ashamed to talk thus? How hast thou wasted all this wealth and now

comest telling lies and saying, The dog hath mounted on the shelf, and

talking such nonsense?” And he reviled him. So the youth returned to his

house, and verily the world had waxed black in his eyes and he cried,

“My sire said sooth.” Then he opened the chamber door and piling up the

bricks under his feet, put the rope about his neck and kicked away the

bricks and swung himself off; whereupon the rope gave way with him and

he fell to the ground and the ceiling clave asunder and there poured

down on him a world of wealth. So he knew that his sire meant to chasten

him by means of this and he invoked Allah’s mercy on him. Then he got

him again that which he had sold of lands and houses and what not else

and became once more in good case; his friends also returned to him and

he entertained them for some time. Then said he to them one day, “There

was with us bread and the locusts ate it; so we set in its place a

stone, one cubit long and the like broad, and the locusts came and

nibbled away the stone, because of the smell of the bread.” Quoth one of

his friends (and it was he who had given him the lie concerning the dog

and the bread and milk), “Marvel not at this, for rats and mice do more

than that.” Thereupon he said, “Get ye home! In the days of my poverty I

was a liar when I told you of the dogs jumping upon the shelf and eating

the bread and defiling the milk; and to-day, because I am rich again, I

say sooth when I tell you that locusts devoured a stone one cubit long

and one cubit broad.” They were abashed by his speech and departed from

him; and the youth’s good prospered and his case was amended. “Nor”

(continued the Wazir), “is this stranger or more seld-seen than the

story of the Prince who fell in love with the Picture.” Quoth the king,

Shah Bakht, “Haply, an I hear this story, I shall gain wisdom from it:

so I will not hasten in the slaying of this Minister, nor will I do him

die before the thirty days have expired.” Then he gave him leave to

withdraw, and he hied away to his own house.

The Sixth Night of the Month.

When the day absconded and the evening arrived, the king sat private in

his chamber and, summoning the Wazir, who presented himself to him,

questioned him of the story. So the Minister said, “Hear, O auspicious

king,

_THE TALE OF THE PRINCE WHO FELL IN LOVE WITH THE PICTURE_.”

There was once, in a province of Persia, a king of the kings, who was

great of degree, a magnifico, endowed with majesty and girt by soldiery;

but he was childless. Towards the end of his life, his Lord vouchsafed

him a male-child, and that boy grew up and was comely and learned all

manner of lere. He made him a private place, which was a towering

palace, edified with coloured marbles and jewels and paintings. When the

Prince entered the palace, he saw in its ceiling the picture of a

maiden, than whom he had never beheld a fairer of aspect, and she was

surrounded by slave-girls; whereupon he fell down in a fainting fit and

became distracted for love of her. Then he sat under the picture till

his father came in to him one day, and finding him lean of limb and

changed of complexion (which was by reason of his continual looking on

that picture), imagined that he was ill and summoned the sages and the

leaches, that they might medicine him. He also said to one of his

cup-companions, “An thou canst learn what aileth my son, thou shalt have

of me the white hand.”[358] Thereupon he went in to him and spake him

fair and cajoled him, till he confessed to him that his malady was

caused by the picture. Then the courtier returned to the king and told

him what ailed his son, whereupon he transported the Prince to another

palace and made his former lodging the guest-house; and whoso of the

Arabs was entertained therein, him he questioned of the picture, but

none could give him tidings thereof, till one day, when there came a

wayfarer who seeing the picture, cried, “There is no god but _the_ God!

My brother painted this portrait.” So the king sent for him and

questioned him of the affair of the picture and where was he who had

painted it. He replied, “O my lord, we are two brothers and one of us

went to the land of Hind and fell in love with the Indian king’s

daughter, and ’tis she who is the original of the portrait. He is wont

in every city he entereth to limn her likeness, and I follow him, and

longsome is my way.” When the king’s son heard this, he said, “Needs

must I travel to this damsel.” So he took all manner rare store and

riches galore and journeyed days and nights till he entered the land of

Hind, nor did he reach it save after sore travail. Then he asked of the

King of Hind who also heard of him, and invited him to the palace. When

the Prince came before him, he sought of him his daughter in marriage,

and the king said, “Indeed, thou art her match, but there is one

objection, to wit, none dare name a male before her because of her hate

for men.” So he pitched his tents under her palace windows, till one day

of the days he gat hold of a girl, one of her favourite slave-girls, and

gave her a mint of money. Quoth she to him, “Hast thou a need?” and

quoth he, “Yes,” and presently acquainted her with his case; when she

said, “In very sooth, thou puttest thyself in peril.” Then he tarried,

flattering himself with false hopes, till all that he had with him was

gone and the servants fled from him; whereupon he said to one in whom he

trusted, “I am minded to repair to my country and fetch what may suffice

me and return hither.” The other answered, “’Tis for thee to judge.” So

they set out to return, but the way was long to them and all that the

Prince had with him was spent and his company died and there abode but

one with him whom he loaded with the little that remained of the victual

and they left the rest and fared on. Then there came out a lion and

devoured the servant, and the king’s son found himself alone. He went

on, till his hackney stood still, whereupon he left it and walked till

his feet swelled. Presently he came to the land of the Turks,[359] and

he naked, hungry, nor having with him aught but somewhat of jewels,

bound about his fore-arm.[360] So he went to the bazar of the goldsmiths

and calling one of the brokers gave him the gems. The broker looked and

seeing two great rubies, said to him, “Follow me.” Accordingly, he

followed him, till he brought him to a goldsmith, to whom he gave the

jewels, saying, “Buy these.” He asked, “Whence hadst thou these?” and

the broker answered, “This youth is the owner of them.” Then said the

goldsmith to the Prince, “Whence hadst thou these rubies?” and he told

him all that had befallen him and that he was a king’s son. The

goldsmith sat astounded at his adventures and bought of him the rubies

for a thousand gold pieces. Then said the Prince to him, “Equip thyself

to go with me to my country.” So he made ready and went with him till

the king’s son drew near the frontiers of his sire’s kingdom, where the

people received him with most honourable reception and sent to acquaint

his father with his son’s arrival. The king came out to meet him and

they entreated the goldsmith with respect and regard. The Prince abode

awhile with his sire, then set out, he and the goldsmith, to return to

the country of the fair one, the daughter of the king of Hind; but there

met him highwaymen by the way and he fought the sorest of fights and was

slain. The goldsmith buried him and set a mark[361] on his grave and

returned to his own country sorrowing and distraught, without telling

any of the Prince’s violent death. Such was the case of the king’s son

and the goldsmith; but as regards the Indian king’s daughter of whom the

Prince went in quest and on whose account he was slain, she had been

wont to look out from the topmost terrace of her palace and to gaze on

the youth and on his beauty and loveliness; so she said to her

slave-girl one day, “Out on thee! What is become of the troops which

were camped beside my palace?” The maid replied, “They were the troops

of the youth, son to the Persian king, who came to demand thee in

wedlock, and wearied himself on thine account, but thou hadst no ruth on

him.” Cried the Princess, “Woe to thee! Why didst thou not tell me?” and

the damsel replied, “I feared thy fury.” Then she sought an audience of

the king her sire and said to him, “By Allah, I will go in quest of him,

even as he came in quest of me; else should I not do him justice as

due.” So she equipped herself and setting out, traversed the wastes and

spent treasures till she came to Sistan, where she called a goldsmith to

make her somewhat of ornaments. Now as soon as the goldsmith saw her, he

knew her (for that the Prince had talked with him of her and had

depictured her to him), so he questioned her of her case, and she

acquainted him with her errand, whereupon he buffeted his face and rent

his raiment and hove dust on his head and fell a-weeping. Quoth she,

“Why dost thou all this?” And he acquainted her with the Prince’s case

and how he was his comrade and told her that he was dead; whereat she

grieved for him and faring on to his father and mother, acquainted them

with the case. Thereupon the Prince’s father and his uncle and his

mother and the lords of the land repaired to his grave and the Princess

made mourning over him, crying aloud. She abode by the tomb a whole

month; then she caused fetch painters and bade them limn her likeness

and the portraiture of the king’s son. She also set down in writing

their story and that which had befallen them of perils and afflictions

and placed it, together with the pictures, at the head of the grave; and

after a little, they departed from the spot. “Nor” (continued the

Wazir), “is this stranger, O king of the age, than the story of the

Fuller and his Wife and the Trooper and what passed between them.” With

this the king bade the Minister hie away to his lodging, and when he

arose in the morning, he abode his day in his house.

The Seventh Night of the Month.

At eventide the king sat in his wonted seat and sending for the Wazir,

said to him, “Tell me the story of the Fuller and his Wife.” The

Minister replied, “With joy and goodly gree!” So he came forward and

said, “Hear, O king of the age,

_THE TALE OF THE FULLER AND HIS WIFE AND THE TROOPER_.”[362]

There was once in a city of the cities a woman fair of favour, who took

to lover a trooper wight. Her husband was a fuller, and when he went out

to his work, the trooper used to come to her and tarry with her till the

time of the fuller’s return, when he would go away. After this fashion

they abode awhile, till one day the trooper said to his mistress, “I

mean to take me a tenement close to thine and dig a Sardáb-souterrain

from my house to thy house, and do thou say to thy spouse:—My sister

hath been absent with her husband and now they have returned from their

travels; and I have made her home herself in my neighbourhood, in order

that I may foregather with her at all times. So go thou to her mate the

trooper and offer him thy wares for sale, and thou wilt see my sister

with him and wilt see that she is I and I am she, without a doubt. Now,

Allah, Allah,[363] go to my sister’s husband and give ear to that which

he shall say to thee.” So the trooper bought him a house near hand and

made therein a tunnel abutting upon his mistress’s house. When he had

accomplished his affair, the wife bespoke her husband as her lover had

lessoned her and he went out to go to the trooper’s house, but turned

back by the way, whereupon said she to him, “By Allah, go at once, for

my sister asketh of thee.” The fool of a fuller went out and made for

the trooper’s house, whilst his wife forewent him thither by the

underground passage, and going up, sat down beside the soldier her

leman. Presently, the fuller entered and saluted the trooper and salamed

to his own wife and was confounded at the coincidence of the case.[364]

Then, doubt befalling him, he returned in haste to his dwelling; but she

preceded him by the Sardab to her chamber and donning her wonted

clothes, sat awaiting him and said to him, “Did I not bid thee go to my

sister and greet her husband and make friends with them?” Quoth he, “I

did this, but I misdoubted of my affair, when I saw his wife;” and quoth

she, “Did I not tell thee that she favoureth me and I her, and there is

naught to distinguish between us but our clothes? Go back to her and

make sure.” Accordingly, of the heaviness of his wit, he believed her,

and returning on his way, went in to the trooper; but she had foregone

him, and when he saw her by the side of her lover, he began looking on

her and pondering. Then he saluted her and she returned him the salam;

and when she spoke he was clean bewildered. So the trooper asked him,

“What aileth thee to be thus?” and he answered, “This woman is my wife,

and the speech is her speech.” Then he rose in haste and, returning to

his own house, saw his wife, who had preceded him by the secret passage.

So he went back to the trooper’s house and found her sitting as before;

whereupon he was abashed in her presence and seating himself in the

trooper’s sitting-chamber, ate and drank with him and became drunken and

abode senseless all that day till nightfall, when the trooper arose and,

the fuller’s hair being long and flowing, he shaved off a portion of it

after the fashion of the Turks,[365] clipped the rest short and clapped

a Tarbúsh on his head. Then he thrust his feet into walking-boots and

girt him with a sword and a girdle and bound about his middle a quiver

and a bow and arrows. He also put some silvers in his poke and thrust

into his sleeve letters-patent addressed to the governor of Ispahan,

bidding him assign to Rustam Khamártakani a monthly allowance of an

hundred dirhams and ten pounds of bread and five pounds of meat and

enrol him among the Turks under his commandment. After which he took him

up and carrying him forth, left him in one of the mosques. The fuller

ceased not sleeping till sunrise, when he awoke and finding himself in

this plight, misdoubted of his affair and fancied that he was a Turk and

fell a-putting one foot forward and drawing the other back. Then said he

in himself, “I will go to my dwelling, and if my wife know me, then am I

Ahmad the fuller; but an she know me not, I am a Turk.” So he betook

himself to his house; but when his wife, the cunning witch, saw him, she

cried out in his face, saying, “Whither now, O trooper? Wilt thou break

into the house of Ahmad the fuller, and he a man of repute, having a

brother-in-law a Turk, a man of rank with the Sultan? An thou depart

not, I will acquaint my husband and he will requite thee thy deed.” When

he heard her words, the dregs of his drink wobbled in his brain and he

fancied that he was indeed a Turk. So he went out from her and putting

his hand to his sleeve, found therein a writ and gave it to one who read

it to him. When he heard that which was in the scroll, his mind was

confirmed in his phantasy; but he said to himself, “My wife may be

seeking to put a cheat on me; so I will go to my fellows the fullers;

and if they recognise me not, then am I for sure Khamartakani the Turk.”

So he betook himself to the fullers and when they espied him afar off,

they thought that he was really Khamartakani or one of the Turks, who

used to send their washing to them without payment and give them never a

stiver. Now they had complained of them aforetime to the Sultan, and he

said, “If any one of the Turks come to you, pelt him with stones.”

Accordingly, when they saw the fuller, they fell upon him with sticks

and stones and pelted him; whereupon quoth he, “Verily, I am a Turk and

knew it not.” Then he took of the dirhams in his pouch and bought him

victual for the way and hired a hackney and set out for Ispahan, leaving

his wife to the trooper. “Nor,” continued the Wazir, “is this stranger

than the story of the Merchant and the Crone and the King.” The

Minister’s tale pleased King Shah Bakht and his heart clave to the story

of the merchant and the old woman; so he bade Al-Rahwan withdraw to his

lodging, and he went away to his house and abode there the next day till

he should be summoned to the presence.

The Eighth Night of the Month.

When the evening evened, the king sat private in his chamber and bade

fetch the Wazir, who presented himself before him, and the king required

of him the story. So the Wazir answered “With love and gladness. Hear, O

king,

_THE TALE OF THE MERCHANT, THE CRONE, AND THE KING_.”

There was once a family of affluence and distinction, in a city of

Khorasan, and the townsfolk used to envy them for that which Allah had

vouchsafed them. As time went on, their fortune ceased from them and

they passed away, till there remained of them but one old woman. When

she grew feeble and decrepit, the townsfolk succoured her not with

aught, but thrust her forth of the city, saying, “This old woman shall

not neighbour with us, for that we do good to her and she requiteth us

with evil.”[366] So she took shelter in a ruined place and strangers

used to bestow alms upon her, and in this way she tarried a length of

time. Now the king of that city had aforetime contended for the kingship

with his uncle’s son, and the people disliked the king; but Allah

Almighty decreed that he should overcome his cousin. However, jealousy

of him abode in his heart and he acquainted the Wazir, who hid it not

and sent him money. Furthermore, he fell to summoning all strangers who

came to the town, man after man, and questioning them of their creed and

their goods, and whoso answered him not satisfactory, he took his

wealth.[367] Now a certain wealthy man of the Moslems was wayfaring,

without knowing aught of this, and it befel that he arrived at that city

by night, and coming to the ruin, gave the old woman money and said to

her, “No harm upon thee.” Whereupon she lifted up her voice and blessed

him: so he set down his merchandise by her and abode with her the rest

of the night and the next day. Now highwaymen had followed him that they

might rob him of his monies, but succeeded not in aught: wherefore he

went up to the old woman and kissed her head and exceeded in bounty to

her. Then she warned him of that which awaited strangers entering the

town and said to him, “I like not this for thee and I fear mischief for

thee from these questions that the Wazir hath appointed for addressing

the ignorant.” And she expounded to him the case according to its

conditions: then said she to him, “But have thou no concern: only carry

me with thee to thy lodging, and if he question thee of aught

enigmatical, whilst I am with thee, I will expound the answers to thee.”

So he carried the crone with him to the city and lodged her in his

lodging and entreated her honourably. Presently, the Wazir heard of the

merchant’s coming; so he sent to him and bade bring him to his house and

talked with him awhile of his travels and of whatso had befallen him

therein, and the merchant answered his queries. Then said the Minister,

“I will put certain critical questions to thee, which an thou answer me,

’twill be well for thee,” and the merchant rose and made him no answer.

Quoth the Wazir, “What is the weight of the elephant?” The merchant was

perplexed and returned him no reply, giving himself up for lost;

however, at last he said, “Grant me three days of delay.” The minister

granted him the time he sought and he returned to his lodging and

related what had passed to the old woman, who said, “When the morrow

cometh, go to the Wazir and say to him, Make a ship and launch it on the

sea and put in it an elephant, and when it sinketh in the water, mark

the place whereunto the water riseth. Then take out the elephant and

cast in stones in its place, till the ship sink to that same mark;

whereupon do thou take out the stones and weigh them and thou wilt

presently know the weight of the elephant.”[368] Accordingly, when he

arose in the morning, he went to the Wazir and repeated to him that

which the old woman had taught him; whereat the Minister marvelled and

said to him, “What sayest thou of a man, who seeth in his house four

holes, and in each hole a viper offering to sally out upon him and slay

him, and in his house are four sticks and each hole may not be stopped

but with the ends of two sticks? How, then, shall he stop all the holes

and deliver himself from the vipers?” When the merchant heard this,

there befel him such concern that it garred him forget the first and he

said to the Wazir, “Grant me delay, so I may reflect on the reply”; and

the Minister cried, “Go out, and bring me the answer, or I will seize

thy monies.” The merchant fared forth and returned to the old woman who,

seeing him changed of complexion, said to him, “What did his hoariness

ask thee?” So he acquainted her with the case and she cried, “Fear not;

I will bring thee forth of this strait.” Quoth he, “Allah requite thee

with weal!” Then quoth she, “To-morrow go to him with a stout heart and

say:—The answer to that whereof thou asketh me is this. Put the heads of

two sticks into one of the holes; then take the other two sticks and lay

them across the middle of the first two and stop with their two heads

the second hole and with their ferrules the fourth hole. Then take the

ferrules of the first two sticks and stop with them the third

hole.”[369] So he repaired to the Wazir and repeated to him the answer;

and he marvelled at its justness and said to him, “Go; by Allah; I will

ask thee no more questions, for thou with thy skill marrest my

foundation.”[370] Then he treated him as a friend and the merchant

acquainted him with the affair of the old woman; whereupon quoth the

Wazir, “Needs must the intelligent company with the intelligent.” Thus

did this weak woman restore to that man his life and his monies on the

easiest wise; “Nor,” continued the Wazir, “is this stranger than the

story of the Simpleton Husband.” When the king heard this, he said, “How

like it must be to this our own case!” Then he bade the Minister retire

to his lodging; so he withdrew and on the morrow he abode at home till

the king should summon him to his presence.

The Ninth Night of the Month.

When the night came, the king sat private in his chamber and sending

after the Wazir, sought of him the story; and he said, “Hear, O august

king,

_THE TALE OF THE SIMPLETON HUSBAND_.”[371]

There was once in olden time a foolish man and an ignorant, who had

abounding wealth, and his wife was a beautiful woman, who loved a

handsome youth. The Cicisbeo used to watch for her husband’s absence and

come to her, and on this wise he abode a long while. One day of the

days, as the woman was closeted with her lover, he said to her, “O my

lady and my beloved, an thou desire me and love me, give me possession

of thy person and satisfy my need in the presence of thy husband;

otherwise I will never again come to thee nor draw near thee while I

live my life.” Now she loved him with exceeding love and could not

suffer his separation an hour nor could endure to anger him; so, when

she heard his words, she said to him, “Bismillah, so be it, in Allah’s

name, O my darling and coolth of mine eyes: may he not live who would

vex thee!” Quoth he, “To-day?” and quoth she, “Yes, by thy life,” and

made an appointment with him for this. When her husband came home, she

said to him, “I want to go a-pleasuring,” and he said, “With all my

heart.” So he went, till he came to a goodly place, abounding in vines

and water, whither he carried her and pitched her a tent by the side of

a tall tree; and she betook herself to a place alongside the tent and

made her there a Sardáb, in which she hid her lover. Then said she to

her husband, “I want to climb this tree[372]”; and he said, “Do so.” So

she clomb it and when she came to the tree-top, she cried out and

slapped her face, saying, “O thou lecher, are these thy lewd ways? Thou

swarest faith to me, and thou liedest.” And she repeated her speech

twice and thrice. Then she came down from the tree and rent her raiment

and said, “O lecher, an these be thy dealings with me before my eyes,

how dost thou when thou art absent from me?” Quoth he, “What aileth

thee?” and quoth she, “I saw thee futter the woman before my very eyes.”

Cried he, “Not so, by Allah! But hold thy peace till I go up and see.”

So he clomb the tree and no sooner did he begin to do so than out came

the lover from his hiding-place and taking the woman by the legs, fell

to shagging her. When the husband came to the top of the tree, he looked

and beheld a man futtering his wife; so he called out, “O whore, what

doings are these?” and he made haste to come down from the tree to the

ground. But meanwhile the lover had returned to his hiding-place and his

wife asked him, “What sawest thou?” and he answered, “I saw a man shag

thee;” but she said, “Thou liest; thou sawest naught and sayst this only

by way of phantasy.” The same they did three several times, and every

time he clomb the tree the lover came up out of the underground place

and mounted her, whilst her husband looked on and she still said, “Seest

thou aught, O liar?” “Yes,” would he answer, and came down in haste, but

saw no one and she said to him, “By my life, look and speak naught but

sooth!” Then he cried to her, “Arise, let us depart this place, for ’tis

full of Jinn and Marids.”[373] Accordingly, they returned to their house

and nighted there, and the man arose in the morning, assured that this

was all but phantasy and fascination. And so the lover won his wicked

will. “Nor, O king of the age,” continued the Wazir, “is this stranger

than the story of the King and the Tither.” When the king heard this

from the Minister, he bade him go away, and he went.

The Tenth Night of the Month.

When it was eventide, the king summoned the Wazir and sought of him the

story of the King and the Tither, and he said, “Hear, O king,

_THE TALE OF THE UNJUST KING AND THE TITHER_.”

There was once a king of the kings of the earth, who dwelt in a

flourishing city, abounding in good; but he wronged its people and

entreated them foully, so that he ruined the city; and he was named

naught else but tyrant and oppressor. Now he was wont, wheneas he heard

of a violent man in another land, to send after him and lure him with

lucre to take service with him; and there was a certain Tither, who

exceeded all other Tithers in oppression of the people and foul dealing.

So the king sent after him and when he stood before him, he found him a

man of mighty fine presence and said to him, “Thou hast been described

to me, but I see thou surpassest the description. Set out to me some of

thy doings and sayings, so I may be dispensed therewith from enquiring

into the whole of thy case.” Answered the other, “With all my heart!

Know, O King, that I oppress the folk and people the land, whilst other

than I ruineth it and peopleth it not.” Now the king was leaning back:

but presently he sat upright and said, “Tell me of this.” The Tither

replied, “’Tis well: I go to the man whom I purpose to tithe and cozen

him and feign to be busied with certain business, so that I seclude

myself therewith from the people; and meanwhile the man is squeezed with

the foulest of extortion, till naught of money is left him. Then I

appear and they come in to me and questions arise concerning him and I

say:—Indeed, I was ordered worse than this, for some one (may Allah

curse him!) hath slandered him to the king. Presently I take half of his

good and return him the rest publicly before the folk and dismiss him to

his house, in all honour and worship, and he garreth the money returned

be carried before him, whilst he blesseth me and all who are with him

also bless me. So is it bruited abroad in the city that I have restored

to him his monies and he himself notifieth the like, to the intent that

he may have a claim on me for the favour due to those who praise me. On

this wise I keep half his property. Then I seem to forget him till the

year[374] hath passed over him, when I send for him and recall to him

somewhat of that which hath befallen aforetime and require of him

somewhat of money in secret; accordingly he doth this and hasteneth to

his house and forwardeth whatso I bid him, with a contented heart. Then

I send to another man, between whom and the first is enmity, and lay

hands upon him and feign to the other man that it is he who hath

slandered him to the king and hath taken the half of his good; and the

people praise me.”[375] The King wondered at this and at his wily

dealing and clever contrivance and made him controller of all his

affairs and of his kingdom and the land was placed under his governance,

and he said to him, “Take and people.”[376] One day, the Tither went out

and saw an old man, a woodcutter, and with him wood; so he said to him,

“Pay a dirham tithe for thy load.” Quoth the Shaykh, “Behold, thou

killest me and killest my family;” and quoth the Tither, “What? Who

killeth the folk?” And the oldster answered, “An thou let me enter the

city, I shall there sell the load for three dirhams, whereof I will give

thee one and buy with the other two silvers what will support my family;

but, an thou press me for the tithe outside the city, the load will sell

but for one dirham and thou wilt take it and I shall abide without food,

I and my family. Indeed, thou and I in this circumstance are like unto

David and Solomon (on the twain be the Peace!”) “How so?” asked the

Tither, and the woodcutter answered, “Do thou hear

_THE STORY OF DAVID AND SOLOMON_.”

Certain husbandmen once made complaint to David (on whom be the Peace!)

against some sheep-owners, whose flocks had come down upon their crops

by night and had devoured them, and he bade value the crops and that the

shepherds should make good the damage. But Solomon (on whom be the

Peace!) rose and said, “Nay, but let the sheep be delivered to the

husbandmen, so they may take their milk and wool, till they have

recouped the value of their crops; then let the sheep return to their

owners.” Accordingly David reversed his own decision and caused execute

that of Solomon; yet was David no oppressor; but Solomon’s judgment was

the juster and he showed himself therein better versed in jurisprudence

and Holy Law.[377] When the Tither heard the old man’s speech, he felt

ruthful and said to him, “O Shaykh, I make thee a gift of that which is

due from thee, and do thou cleave to me and leave me not, so haply I may

get of thee gain which shall do away from me my wrongousness and guide

me on the path of righteousness.” So the old man followed him, and there

met him another with a load of wood. Quoth the Tither to him, “Pay me

that which thou owest me;” and quoth he, “Have patience with me till

to-morrow, for I owe the hire of a house, and I will sell another load

of fuel and pay thee two days’ tithe.” But he refused him this and the

Shaykh said to him, “An thou constrain him unto this, thou wilt compel

him quit thy country, because he is a stranger here and hath no

domicile; and if he remove on account of one dirham, thou wilt forfeit

of him three hundred and sixty dirhams a year.[378] Thus wilt thou lose

the mickle in keeping the little.” Quoth the Tither, “Verily[379] will I

give him a dirham every month to the rent of his lodging.” Then he went

on and presently there met him a third woodcutter and he said to him,

“Pay thy due;” but he said, “I will pay thee a dirham, when I enter the

city; or take of me four dániks[380] now.” Quoth the Tither, “I will not

do it,” but the Shaykh said to him, “Take of him the four daniks

presently, for ’tis easy to take and hard to give back.” Exclaimed the

Tither, “By Allah ’tis good!” and he arose and hied on, crying out at

the top of his voice and saying, “I have no power this day to do

evil.”[381] Then he doffed his dress and went forth wandering at a

venture, repenting unto his Lord. “Nor” (continued the Wazir), “is this

story stranger than that of the Robber who believed the Woman and sought

refuge with Allah against falling in with her like, by reason of her

cunning contrivance for herself.” When the king heard this, he said to

himself, “Since the Tither repented, in consequence of the woodcutter’s

warnings, it behoveth I leave this Wazir on life so I may hear the story

of the Robber and the Woman.” And he bade Al-Rahwan return to his

lodging.

The Eleventh Night of the Month.

When the evening came and the king had taken his seat, he summoned the

Wazir and required of him the story of the Robber and the Woman. Quoth

the Minister, “Hear, O king,

_THE TALE OF THE ROBBER AND THE WOMAN_.”