he had wasted all that was with him; moreover, he stole not from his
neighbours, neither companied with any of the thieves, for fear lest
some one should betray him, and his case become public. After this
fashion he abode a great while, in flourishing condition, and his secret
was concealed, till Almighty Allah decreed that he broke in upon a
beggar, a poor man whom he deemed rich. When he gained access to the
house, he found naught, whereat he was wroth, and necessity prompted him
to wake that man, who lay asleep alongside of his wife. So he aroused
him and said to him, “Show me thy treasure.” Now he had no treasure to
show; but the Robber believed him not and was instant upon him with
threats and blows. When he saw that he got no profit of him, he said to
him, “Swear by the oath of divorce[382] from thy wife that thou hast
nothing.” So he sware and his wife said to him, “Fie on thee! Wilt thou
divorce me? Is not the hoard buried in yonder chamber?” Then she turned
to the Robber and conjured him to be weightier of blows upon her
husband, till he should deliver to him the treasure, anent which he had
forsworn himself. So he drubbed him with a grievous drubbing, till he
carried him to a certain chamber, wherein she signed to him that the
hoard was and that he should take it up. So the Robber entered, he and
the husband; and when they were both in the chamber, she locked on them
the door, which was a stout and strong, and said to the Robber, “Woe to
thee, O fool! Thou hast fallen into the trap and now I have but to cry
out and the officers of police will come and take thee and thou wilt
lose thy life, O Satan!” Quoth he, “Let me go forth;” and quoth she,
“Thou art a man and I am a woman; and in thy hand is a knife, and I am
afraid of thee.” He cried, “Take the knife from me.” So she took it and
said to her husband, “Art thou a woman and he a man? Pain his neck-nape
with tunding, even as he tunded thee; and if he put out his hand to
thee, I will cry out a single cry and the policemen will come and take
him and hew him in two.” So the husband said to him, “O
thousand-horned,[383] O dog, O dodger, I owe thee a deposit[384]
wherefor thou hast dunned me.” And he fell to bashing him grievously
with a stick of holm-oak,[385] whilst he called out to the woman for
help and prayed her to deliver him: but she said, “Keep thy place till
the morning, and thou shalt see queer things.” And her husband beat him
within the chamber, till he killed[386] him and he swooned away. Then he
left beating him and when the Robber came to himself, the woman said to
her husband, “O man, this house is on hire and we owe its owners much
money, and we have naught; so how wilt thou do?” And she went on to
bespeak him thus. The Robber asked “And what is the amount of the rent?”
The husband answered, “’Twill be eighty dirhams;” and the thief said, “I
will pay this for thee and do thou let me go my way.” Then the wife
enquired, “O man, how much do we owe the baker and the greengrocer?”
Quoth the Robber, “What is the sum of this?” And the husband said,
“Sixty dirhams.” Rejoined the other, “That makes two hundred dirhams;
let me go my way and I will pay them.” But the wife said, “O my dear,
and the girl groweth up and needs must we marry her and equip her and do
what else is needful.” So the Robber said to the husband, “How much dost
thou want?” and he rejoined, “An hundred dirhams in a modest way.”[387]
Quoth the Robber, “That maketh three hundred dirhams.” Then the woman
said, “O my dear, when the girl is married, thou wilt need money for
winter expenses, charcoal and firewood and other necessaries.” The
Robber asked, “What wouldst thou have?” And she answered, “An hundred
dirhams.” He rejoined, “Be it four hundred dirhams.” And she continued,
“O my dear and O coolth of mine eyes, needs must my husband have capital
in hand,[388] wherewith he may buy goods and open him a shop.” Said he,
“How much will that be?” And she, “An hundred dirhams.” Quoth the
Robber, “That maketh five hundred dirhams; I will pay it; but may I be
triply divorced from my wife if all my possessions amount to more than
this, and they be the savings of twenty years! Let me go my way, so I
may deliver them to thee.” Cried she, “O fool, how shall I let thee go
thy way? Utterly impossible! Be pleased to give me a right token.”[389]
So he gave her a token for his wife and she cried out to her young
daughter and said to her, “Keep this door.” Then she charged her husband
to watch over the Robber, till she should return, and repairing to his
wife, acquainted her with his case and told her that her husband the
thief had been taken and had compounded for his release, at the price of
seven hundred dirhams, and named to her the token. Accordingly, she gave
her the money and she took it and returned to her house. By this time,
the dawn had dawned; so she let the thief go his way, and when he went
out, she said to him, “O my dear, when shall I see thee come and take
the treasure?” And he, “O indebted one,[390] when thou needest other
seven hundred dirhams, wherewith to amend thy case and that of thy
children and to pay thy debts.” And he went out, hardly believing in his
deliverance from her. “Nor,” continued the Wazir, “is this stranger than
the story of the Three Men and our Lord Ísà.” So the king bade him hie
to his own home.
The Twelfth Night of the Month.
When it was eventide, the king summoned the Minister and bade him tell
the promised tale. He replied, “Hearing and obeying. Give ear, O
glorious king, to
_THE TALE OF THE THREE MEN AND OUR LORD ISA_.”
Three men once went out questing treasure and came upon a nugget of
gold, weighing fifty maunds.[391] When they saw it, they took it up on
their shoulders and carried it till they drew near a certain city, when
one of them said, “Let us sit in the cathedral-mosque,[392] whilst one
of us shall go and buy us what we may eat.” So they sat down in the
mosque and one of them arose and entered the city. When he came therein,
his soul prompted him to false his two fellows and get the gold to
himself alone. Accordingly, he bought food and poisoned it: but, when he
returned to his comrades, they sprang upon him and slew him, in order
that they might enjoy the gold without him. Then they ate of the
poisoned food and died, and the gold lay cast down over against them.
Presently, Ísà bin Maryam (on whom be the Peace!) passed by and seeing
this, besought Allah Almighty for tidings of their case; so He told him
what had betided them, whereat great was his surprise and he related to
his disciples[393] what he had seen. Quoth one of them, “O Spirit of
Allah,[394] naught resembleth this but my own adventure.” Quoth Isa,
“How so?” and the other began to tell
_THE DISCIPLE’S STORY_.
Once I was in such a city, where I hid a thousand dirhams in a
monastery. After a while, I went thither and taking the money, bound it
about my waist. Then I set out to return and when I came to the
Sahará[395]-waste, the carrying of the money was heavy upon me.
Presently, I espied a horseman pushing on after me; so I waited till he
came up and said to him, “O rider, carry this money for me and earn
reward and recompense in Heaven.” Said he, “No, I will not do it, for I
should tire myself and tire out my horse.” Then he went on but, before
he had gone far, he said in his mind, “An I take up the money and put my
steed to speed and devance him, how shall he overtake me?” And I also
said in my mind, “Verily, I erred; for, had he taken the money and made
off, what could I have done?” Then he turned back to me and cried to me,
“Hand over the money, that I may carry it for thee.” But I replied to
him, “That which hath occurred to thy mind hath occurred to mine also;
so go thou and go safe.” Quoth Isa (on whom be the Peace!), “Had these
done prudently, they had taken thought for themselves; but they unheeded
the issues of events; for that whoso acteth cautiously is safe and
winneth his wish, and whoso neglecteth precaution is lost and
repenteth.”[396] “Nor,” continued the Wazir, “is this stranger or rarer
than the story of the King, whose kingdom was restored to him and his
wealth, after he had become poor, possessing not a single dirham.” When
the king heard this, he said in himself, “How like is this to my own
story in the matter of the Minister and his slaughter! Had I not used
deliberation, I had done him dead.” And he bade Al-Rahwan hie to his own
home.
The Thirteenth Night of the Month.
When the evening evened, the king sent for the Wazir to his sitting
chamber and bade him tell the promised tale. So he said, “Hearkening and
obedience. They relate, O king,
_THE TALE OF THE DETHRONED RULER WHOSE REIGN AND WEALTH WERE RESTORED TO
HIM_.”
There was once, in a city of the cities of Al-Hind, a just king and a
beneficent, and he had a Wazir, a man of understanding, upright in his
rede, and praiseworthy in his policy, a Minister in whose hand was the
handling of all the affairs of the realm; for he was firmly based on the
Sultan’s favour and high in esteem with the folk of his time, and the
king set great store by him and entrusted himself to him in all his
transactions, by reason of his excellent management of the lieges, and
he had guards[397] who were content with him and grateful to him. Now
that king had a brother, who envied him and would lief have taken his
place; and when he was a-weary of looking for his death and the term of
his life seemed distant, he took counsel with certain of his partisans
and they said, “The Minister is the monarch’s counsellor and but for
this Wazir the king were kingdomless.” So the pretender cast about for
the ruin of the defender, but could find no means of furthering his
design; and when the affair grew longsome upon him, he said to his wife,
“What deemest thou will gar us gain herein?” “What is it?” “I mean in
the matter of yonder Minister, who inciteth my brother to worship with
all his might and biddeth him unto devoutness, and indeed the king
doteth upon his counsel and stablisheth him governor of all monies and
matters.” “True; but how shall we devise with him?” “I have a device, so
thou wilt help me in that which I shall say to thee.” “Thou shalt have
my help in whatsoever thou desirest.” “I mean to dig him a pit in the
vestibule and conceal it artfully.” Accordingly, he did this, and when
it was night, he covered the pit with a light covering, so that, when
the Wazir trod upon it, it would give way under his tread. Then he sent
to him and summoned him to the Court in the king’s name, and the
messenger bade him enter by the private wicket-way. So he came in alone,
and when he stepped upon the covering of the pit, it caved in with him
and he fell to the bottom; whereupon the king’s brother fell to pelting
him with stones. When the Minister beheld what had betided him he gave
himself up for lost; so he stirred not for a while and lay still. The
Prince, seeing him make no sign deemed him dead; so he took him forth
and wrapping him up in his robes, cast him into the surges of the sea in
the middle night. When the Wazir felt the water, he awoke from the swoon
and swam for an hour or so, till a ship passed by him, whereupon he
shouted to the sailors and they took him up. Now when the morning
morrowed, the people went seeking for him, but found him not; and the
king learning this, was perplexed concerning his affair and abode
unknowing whatso he should do. Then he sought for a Minister to stand in
his stead, and the king’s brother said, “I have for Wazir an efficient
man.” Said the king, “Bring him to me.” So he brought him a man, whom he
set at the head of affairs; but he seized upon the kingdom and threw the
king in fetters and made his brother king in lieu of him. The new ruler
gave himself up to all manner of frowardness, whereat the folk murmured
and his Minister said to him, “I fear lest the Hindians take the old
king and restore him to the kingship and we both come to ruin: so, if we
seize him and cast him into the sea, we shall be at rest from him; and
we will publish among the folk that he is dead.” And they, agreeing upon
this, took him up and carrying him out to sea, cast him in. When he felt
the water, he struck out, and ceased not swimming till he landed upon an
island, where he tarried five days finding nothing which he might eat or
drink; but, on the sixth day, when he despaired of his life, behold,
there passed a ship; so he made signals to the crew and they came and
took him up and fared on with him to an inhabited country, where they
set him ashore, mother-naked as he was. There, seeing a man seeding, he
sought guidance of him and the husbandman asked, “Art thou a foreigner?”
“Yes,” answered the king and sat with him and they talked. The peasant
found him clever and quick-witted and said to him, “An thou beheld a
comrade of mine, thou wouldst see him the like of what I see thee, for
his case is even as thy case, and he is at this present my friend.”
Quoth the king, “Verily, thou makest me long to look at him. Canst thou
not bring us together, me and him?” Quoth the husbandman, “With joy and
goodly gree;” and the king sat with him till he had made an end of his
seeding, when he carried him to his homestead and brought him in company
with the other stranger, and behold it was his Wazir. When each saw
other, the twain wept and embraced, and the sower wept for their
weeping; but the king hid their affair and said to him, “This man is
from my mother-land and he is as my brother.” So they homed with the
husbandman and helped him for a hire, wherewith they supported
themselves a long spell. Meanwhile, they sought news of their patrial
stead and learned that which its people suffered of straitness and
severity. One day there came a ship and in it a merchant from their own
country, who knew them and rejoiced in them with joy exceeding and clad
them in goodly clothing. He also acquainted them with the manner of the
treachery that had been practised upon them, and counselled them to
return to their own land, they and he with whom they had made
friends,[398] assuring them that Almighty Allah would restore them to
their former rank. So the king returned and the folk joined themselves
to him and he fell upon his brother and his Wazir and took them and
threw them into jail. Then he sat down again upon the throne of his
kingship, whilst the Minister stood between his hands and they returned
to their former estate, but they had naught of worldly wealth. Presently
the king said to his Wazir, “How shall we continue tarrying in this
city, and we thus poorly conditioned?” and he answered, “Be at thine
ease and have no concern.” Then he singled out one of the soldiers[399]
and said to him, “Send us thy service[400] for the year.” Now there were
in the city fifty thousand subjects[401] and in the hamlets and
villages[402] a like number; and the Minister sent to each of these,
saying, “Let each and every of you get an egg and set it under a hen.”
They did this and it was neither burden nor grievance to them; and when
twenty days had passed by, each egg was hatched, and the Wazir bade them
pair the chickens, male with female, and rear them well. They did
accordingly and it was found a charge unto no one. Then they waited for
them awhile and after this the Minister asked of the chickens and was
answered that they were become fowls. Furthermore, they brought him all
their eggs and he bade set them; and after twenty days there were
hatched from each pair of them thirty or five-and-twenty or fifteen
chickens at the least. The Wazir bade note against each man the number
of chickens which pertained to him, and after two months, he took the
old partlets and the cockerels, and there came to him from each man some
half a score, and he left the young partlets with them. Even so he sent
to the country folk and let the cocks remain with them. Thus he got him
whole broods of young poultry and appropriated to himself the sale of
the fowls, and on this wise he gained for him, in the course of a year,
that which the kingly estate required of the King, and his affairs were
set right for him by the cunning contrivance of the Minister. And he
caused the country to thrive and dealt justly by his subjects and
returned to them all that he took from them and lived a grateful and
prosperous life. Thus right counsel and prudence are better than wealth,
for that understanding profiteth at all times and seasons. “Nor,”
continued the Wazir, “is this stranger than the story of the Man whose
caution slew him.” When the king heard the Words of his Wazir, he
wondered with the uttermost wonder and bade him retire to his lodging.
The Fourteenth Night of the Month.
When the Minister returned to the presence, the King sought of him the
story of the Man whose caution slew him and he said, “Hear, O auspicious
King,
_THE TALE OF THE MAN WHOSE CAUTION SLEW HIM_.”
There was once a man who was cautious exceedingly concerning himself,
and he set out one day on a journey to a land abounding in wild beasts.
The caravan wherewith he fared came by night to the gate of a city; but
the warders would not open to them, for there were lions there; so they
nighted without the walls. Now that man, of the excess of his caution,
could not determine a place wherein he should pass the night, for fear
of the wild beasts and reptiles; so he went about seeking an empty stead
wherein he might lie. At last, as there was a ruined building hard by,
he climbed up on to a high wall and ceased not clambering hither and
thither, of the excess of his carefulness, till his feet betrayed him
and he slipped and fell to the bottom and died, whilst his companions
arose in the morning safe and sound. Now, had he overmastered his
wrongous rede and had he submitted himself to Fate and Fortune, it had
been safer and better for him; but he made light of the folk and
belittled their wit and was not content to take example by them; for his
soul whispered him that he was a man of wits and he fancied that, an he
abode with them, he would perish; so his folly cast him into perdition.
“Nor,” continued the Wazir, “is this stranger than the story of the Man
who was lavish of his house and his provision to one he knew not.” When
the King heard this, he said, “I will not separate myself from the folk
and slay my Minister.” And he bade him hie to his own house.
The Fifteenth Night of the Month.
When the evening evened, the King bade fetch the Wazir and required of
him the story. So he said, “Hear, O King,
_THE TALE OF THE MAN WHO WAS LAVISH OF HIS HOUSE AND HIS PROVISION TO
ONE WHOM HE KNEW NOT_.”
There was once an Arab of high rank and noble presence, a model of
magnanimity and exalted generosity, and he had brethren, with whom he
consorted and caroused, and they were wont to assemble by rotation at
one another’s homes. When it came to his turn, he gat ready in his house
all manner goodly meats and pleasant and dainty drinks and the fairest
flowers and the finest fruits, and he provided all kinds of instruments
of music and store of wondrous dictes and marvellous stories and
pleasant instances and histories and witty anecdotes and verses and what
not else, for there was none among those with whom he was wont to
company but enjoyed this in every goodly fashion, and the entertainment
he had provided contained all whereof each had need. Then he sallied
forth in quest of his friends, and went round about the city, so he
might assemble them; but found none of them at home. Now in that town
was a man of pleasant conversation and large generosity, a merchant of
condition, young of years and bright of blee, who had come to that place
from his own country with merchandise in great store and wealth galore.
He took up his abode therein and the town was pleasant to him and he was
large in lavishing, so that he came to the end of all his wealth and
there remained in his hand naught save what was upon him of
raiment.[403] So he left the lodging which had homed him in the days of
his prosperity; after he had wasted that which was therein of furniture,
and fell to finding refuge in the houses of the townsfolk from night to
night. One day, as he went wandering about the streets, he beheld a
woman of the uttermost beauty and loveliness, and what he saw of her
charms amazed him and there happened to him what made him forget his
sorry plight. She accosted him and jested with him and he besought her
of union and intimacy; so she consented to this and said to him, “Let us
go to thy lodging.” Herewith he repented and was perplexed concerning
his procedure and grieved for that which must escape him of her company
by reason of the straitness of his hand, for that he had not a whit of
spending-money. But he was ashamed to say “No,” after he had sued and
wooed her; wherefore he went on before her, bethinking him how he should
rid himself of her and seeking some excuse which he might put off on
her, and gave not over going from street to street, till he entered one
that had no issue and saw, at the farther end, a door, whereon was a
padlock. Then said he to her, “Do thou excuse me, for my lad hath locked
the door and how shall we open it?” Said she, “O my lord, the padlock is
worth only some ten dirhams;” and presently she tucked up her sleeves
from forearms as they were crystal and taking a stone, smote the padlock
and broke it; and, opening the door, said to him, “Enter, O my lord.”
Accordingly he went in, committing his affair to Allah (to whom belong
Honour and Glory), and she entered after him and locked the door from
within. They found themselves in a pleasant house, collecting all good
and gladness; and the young man fared forwards, till he came to the
sitting-chamber, and, behold, it was furnished with the finest of
furniture as hath before been set out.[404] He seated himself and leant
upon a cushion, whilst she put out her hand to her veil and doffed it.
Then she threw off her heavy outer clothes till she was clad in the
thinnest which showed her charms, whereupon the young man embraced her
and kissed her and enjoyed her; after which they washed with the
Ghusl-ablution and returned to their place and he said to her, “Know
that I have little knowledge of what goeth on in my own house, for that
I trust to my servant: so arise thou and see what the lad hath made
ready in the kitchen.” Accordingly, she arose and going down into the
kitchen, saw cooking pots over the fire, wherein were all manner of
dainty viands, and firsts-bread[405] and fresh almond cakes.[406] So she
set bread on a dish and ladled out what she would from the pots and
brought it to him. They ate and drank and played and made merry a while
of the day; and as they were thus engaged, suddenly up came the master
of the house, with his friends, whom he had brought with him, that they
might converse together, as of wont. He saw the door opened and knocked
a light knock, saying to his company, “Have patience with me, for some
of my family are come to visit me: wherefore excuse belongeth first to
Allah Almighty, and then to you.”[407] So they farewelled him and fared
their ways, whilst he rapped another light rap at the door. When the
young man heard this, he changed colour and the woman said to him,
“Methinks thy lad hath returned.” He answered, “Yes;” and she arose and
opening the door to the master of the house, said to him, “Where hast
thou been? Indeed, thy master is angry with thee?” and he said, “O my
lady, I have not been save about his business.” Then he girt his waist
with a kerchief and entering, saluted the young merchant, who said to
him, “Where hast thou been?” Quoth he, “I have done thine errands;” and
quoth the youth, “Go and eat and come hither and drink.” So he went
away, as he bade him, and ate; then he washed hands and returning to the
sitting-room, sat down on the carpet and fell to talking with them;
whereupon the young merchant’s heart was heartened and his breast
broadened and he applied himself to pleasure. They were in all joyance
of life and the most abounding pleasance till a third part of the night
was past, when the house-master arose, and spreading them a bed, invited
them to take their rest. So they lay down and the youth wide awake,
pondering their affair till daybreak, when the woman roused herself from
sleep and said to her companion, “I wish to go.” He farewelled her and
she departed; whereupon the master of the house followed her with a
purse of silver and gave it to her, saying, “Blame not my lord,” and
made his excuse to her for his master. Then he returned to the youth and
said to him, “Arise and come to the Hammam;”[408] and he fell to
shampooing his hands and feet, whilst the youth called down blessings on
him and said “O my lord, who art thou? Methinks there is not in the
world the like of thee; no, nor a pleasanter in thy disposition.” Then
each of the twain acquainted the other with his case and condition and
they went to the bath; after which the master of the house conjured the
young merchant to return with him and summoned his friends. So they ate
and drank and he told them the tale, wherefore they thanked the
house-master and praised him; and their friendship was complete while
the young merchant abode in the town, till Allah made easy to him a
means of travel, whereupon they farewelled him and he departed; and this
is the end of his tale. “Nor,” continued the Wazir, “O king of the age,
is this stranger than the story of the Richard who lost his wealth and
his wit.” When the king heard the Minister’s story, it pleased him and
he bade him hie to his home.
The Sixteenth Night of the Month.
When the evening evened, the King sat in his sitting-chamber and sending
for his Wazir, bade him relate the story of the Wealthy Man who lost his
wealth and his wit. So he said, “Hear, O King,
_THE TALE OF THE MELANCHOLIST AND THE SHARPER_.”[409]
There was once a Richard hight ’Ajlán, the Hasty, who wasted his wealth,
and concern and chagrin gat the mastery of him, so that he became a
Melancholist[410] and lost his wit. There remained with him of his
monies about twenty dinars and he used to beg alms of the folk, and
whatso they gave him in charity he would gather together and add to the
gold pieces that were left him. Now there was in that town a Sharper,
who made his living by roguery, and he knew that the Melancholist had
somewhat of money; so he fell to spying upon him and ceased not watching
him till he saw him put into an earthen pot that which he had with him
of silvers and enter a deserted ruin, where he sat down, as if to make
water, and dug a hole, wherein he laid the pot and covering it up,
smoothed the ground as it had been. Then he went away and the Sharper
came and taking what was in the pot, restored it to its former place.
Presently ’Ajlan returned, with somewhat to add to his hoard, but found
it not; so he bethought him of who had followed him and remembered that
he had found that Sharper assiduous in sitting with him and questioning
him. So he went in search of him, assured that he had taken the pot, and
gave not over looking for him till he saw him sitting; whereupon he ran
to him and the Sharper saw him. Then the Melancholist stood within
earshot and muttered[411] to himself and said, “In the pot are sixty
ducats and I have with me other twenty in such a place and to-day I will
unite the whole in the pot.” When the Sharper heard him say this to
himself, muttering and mumbling, repeating and blundering in his speech,
he repented him of having taken the sequins and said, “He will presently
return to the pot[412] and find it empty; wherefore that for which I am
on the look-out will escape me; and meseemeth ’twere best I replace the
dinars, so he may see them and leave all which is with him in the pot,
and I can take the whole.” Now he feared to return to the pot at once,
lest the Melancholist should follow him to the place and find nothing
and on this wise his arrangements be marred; so he said to him, “O
’Ajlan,[413] I would have thee come to my lodging and eat bread with
me.” Thereupon the Melancholist went with him to his quarters and he
seated him there and going to the market, sold somewhat of his clothes
and pawned somewhat from his house and bought the best of food. Then he
betook himself to the ruin and replacing the money in the pot, buried it
again; after which he returned to his lodging and gave the Melancholist
to eat and drink, and they went out together. The Sharper walked away
and hid himself, lest his guest should see him, whilst ’Ajlan repaired
to his hiding-place and took the pot. Presently, the Sharper returned to
the ruin, rejoicing in that which he deemed he should get, and dug in
the place, but found naught and knew that the Melancholist had outwitted
him. So he began buffetting his face for regret, and fell to following
the other whitherso he went, to the intent that he might win what was
with him, but he failed in this, because the Melancholist knew what was
in his mind and was assured that he spied upon him; so he kept watch
over himself. Now, had the Sharper considered the consequences of haste
and that which is begotten of loss therefrom, he had not done on such
wise. “Nor,” continued the Wazir, “is this tale, O king of the age,
rarer or stranger or daintier than the story of Khalbas[414] and his
Wife and the learned man and that which befel between the three.” When
the king heard this story, he left his purpose of putting the Minister
to death and his soul bade him to continue him on life. So he ordered
him off to his house.
The Seventeenth Night of the Month.
When the evening evened, the King summoned the Minister, and as soon as
he presented himself, he required of him the story. So he said,
“Hearkening and obedience. Hear, O august King,
_THE TALE OF KHALBAS AND HIS WIFE AND THE LEARNED MAN_.”
There was once a man called Khalbas, who was a fulsome fellow, a
calamity, notorious for this note, and he had a charming wife, renowned
for beauty and loveliness. A man of his townsfolk fell in love with her
and she also loved him. Now Khalbas was a wily wight and full of guile,
and there was in his neighbourhood a learned man, to whom the folk used
to resort every day and he told them histories and admonished them with
moral instances; and Khalbas was wont to be present in his assembly, for
the sake of making a show before the folk. This learned man also had a
wife famed for comeliness and seemlihead and quickness of wit and
understanding and the lover sought some device whereby he might manage
to meet Khalbas’s wife; so he came to him and told him as a secret what
he had seen of the learned man’s wife and confided to him that he was in
love with her and besought his assistance in this. Khalbas told him that
she was known as a model of chastity and continence and that she exposed
herself not to ill doubts; but the other said, “I cannot renounce her,
in the first place because the woman inclineth to me and coveteth my
wealth, and secondly, because of the greatness of my fondness for her;
and naught is wanting but thy help.” Quoth Khalbas, “I will do thy
will;” and quoth the other, “Thou shalt have of me every day two silvern
dirhams, on condition that thou sit with the learned man and that, when
he riseth from the assembly, thou speak a word which shall notify to me
the breaking up of the meeting.” So they agreed upon that and Khalbas
entered and sat in the session, whilst the lover was assured in his
heart that the secret was safe and secure with him, wherefore he
rejoiced and was content to pay the two dirhams. Then Khalbas used to
attend the learned man’s assembly, whilst the other would go into his
wife and be very much with her, on such wise as he thought good, till
the learned man arose from his meeting; and when Khalbas saw that he
proposed rising, he would speak a word for the lover to hear, whereupon
he went forth from the wife of Khalbas who knew not that doom was in his
own home. But when the learned man saw Khalbas do the same thing every
day, he began to suspect him, especially on account of that which he
knew of his bad name, and suspicion grew upon him; so, one day, he
resolved to advance the time of his rising ere the wonted hour and
hastening up to Khalbas, seized him and said to him, “By Allah, an thou
say a single syllable, I will do thee a damage!” Then he went in to his
wife, with Khalbas in his grip, and behold, she was sitting, as of her
wont, nor was there about her aught of suspicious or unseemly. The
learned man bethought him awhile of this, then made for Khalbas’s house,
which adjoined his own, still holding his man; and when they entered,
they found the young lover lying on the bed with Khalbas’s wife;
whereupon quoth the learned man to him, “O accursed, the doom is with
thee and in thine own home!” So Khalbas divorced his wife and went
forth, fleeing, and returned not to his own land. “This, then”
(continued the Wazir), “is the consequence of lewdness, for whoso
purposeth in himself wile and perfidious guile, they get possession of
him, and had Khalbas conceived of himself that dishonour and calamity
which he conceived of the folk, there had betided him nothing of this.
Nor is this tale, rare and curious though it be, stranger or rarer than
the story of the Devotee whose husband’s brother accused her of
lewdness.” When the king heard this, wonderment gat hold of him and his
admiration for the Wazir redoubled; so he bade him hie to his home and
return to him on the morrow, according to his custom. So the Minister
withdrew to his lodging, where he passed the night and the ensuing day.
The Eighteenth Night of the Month.
When the evening evened, the King summoned the Wazir and required of him
the story; so he said, “’Tis well. Hear O King,
_THE TALE OF THE DEVOTEE ACCUSED OF LEWDNESS_.”[415]
There was once a man of Níshábúr[416] who, having a wife of the
uttermost beauty and piety, yet was minded to set out on the pilgrimage.
So before leaving home he commended her to the care of his brother and
besought him to aid her in her affairs and further her wishes till he
should return, for the brothers were on the most intimate terms.[417]
Then he took ship and departed and his absence was prolonged. Meanwhile,
the brother went to visit his brother’s wife, at all times and seasons,
and questioned her of her circumstances and went about her wants; and
when his calls were prolonged and he heard her speech and saw her face,
the love of her gat hold upon his heart and he became passionately fond
of her and his soul prompted him to evil. So he besought her to lie with
him, but she refused and showed him how foul was his deed, and he found
him no way to win what he wished;[418] wherefore he wooed her with soft
speech and gentle ways. Now she was righteous in all her doings and
never swerved from one saying;[419] so, when he saw that she consented
not to him, he had no doubts but that she would tell his brother, when
he returned from his journey, and quoth he to her, “An thou consent not
to whatso I require of thee, I will cause a scandal to befal thee and
thou wilt perish.” Quoth she, “Allah (extolled and exalted be He!) judge
betwixt me and thee, and know that, shouldst thou hew me limb from limb,
I would not consent to that thou biddest me to do.” His ignorance[420]
of womankind persuaded him that she would tell her spouse; so he betook
himself of his exceeding despite, to a company of people in the mosque
and informed them that he had witnessed a man commit adultery with his
brother’s wife. They believed his word and documented his charge and
assembled to stone her.[421] Then they dug her a pit outside the city
and seating her therein, stoned her, till they deemed her dead, when
they left her. Presently a Shaykh of a village passed by the pit and
finding her alive, carried her to his house and cured her of her wounds.
Now he had a youthful son, who, as soon as he saw her, loved her and
besought her of her person; but she refused and consented not to him,
whereupon he redoubled in love and longing and his case prompted him to
suborn a youth of the people of his village and agree with him that he
should come by night and take somewhat from his father’s house and that,
when he was seized and discovered, he should say that she was his
accomplice in this and avouch that she was his mistress and had been
stoned on his account in the city. Accordingly he did this, and, coming
by night to the villager’s house, stole therefrom goods and clothes;
whereupon the owner awoke and seizing the thief, pinioned him straitly
and beat him to make him confess; and he confessed against the woman
that she was a partner in the crime and that he was her lover from the
city. The news was bruited abroad and the citizens assembled to put her
to death; but the Shaykh with whom she was forbade them and said, “I
brought this woman hither, coveting the recompense of Allah, and I know
not the truth of that which is said of her and will not empower any to
hurt or harm her.” Then he gave her a thousand dirhams, by way of alms,
and thrust her forth of the village. As for the thief, he was imprisoned
for some days; after which the folk interceded for him with the old man,
saying, “This is a youth and indeed he erred;” and he released him from
his bonds. Meanwhile the woman went out at hap-hazard and donning a
devotee’s dress, fared on without ceasing, till she came to a city and
found the king’s deputies dunning the townsfolk for the tribute, out of
season. Presently, she saw a man, whom they were pressing for the
tribute; so she asked of his case and being acquainted with it, paid
down the thousand dirhams for him and delivered him from the bastinado;
whereupon he thanked her and those who were present. When he was set
free, he walked with her and besought her to go with him to his
dwelling: accordingly, she accompanied him thither and supped with him
and passed the night. When the dark hours gloomed on him, his soul
prompted him to evil, for that which he saw of her beauty and
loveliness, and he lusted after her, and required her of her person; but
she rejected him and threatened him with Allah the Most High and
reminded him of that which she had done with him of kindness and how she
had delivered him from the stick and its disgrace. However, he would not
be denied, and when he saw her persistent refusal of herself to him, he
feared lest she should tell the folk of him. So, when he arose in the
morning, he wrote on a paper what he would of forgery and falsehood and
going up to the Sultan’s palace, said, “I have an advisement for the
King.” So he bade admit him and he delivered him the writ he had forged,
saying, “I found this letter with the woman, the devotee, the ascetic,
and indeed she is a spy, a secret informer against the sovran to his
foe; and I deem the King’s due more incumbent on me than any other claim
and warning him to be the first duty, for that he uniteth in himself all
the subjects, and but for the King’s existence, the lieges would perish;
wherefore I have brought thee good counsel.” The King gave credit to his
words and sent with him those who should lay hands upon the Devotee and
do her to death; but they found her not. As for the woman, when the man
went out from her, she resolved to depart; so she fared forth, saying to
herself, “There is no wayfaring for me in woman’s habit.” Then she
donned men’s dress, such as is worn of the pious, and set out and
wandered over the earth; nor did she cease wandering till she entered a
certain city. Now the king of that city had an only daughter, in whom he
gloried and whom he loved, and she saw the Devotee and deeming her a
pilgrim youth, said to her father, “I would fain have this youth take up
his lodging with me, so I may learn of him lere and piety and religion.”
Her father rejoiced in this and commanded the pilgrim to take up his
abode with his daughter in his palace. So they were in one place and the
Princess was strenuous to the uttermost in continence and chastity and
nobility of mind and magnanimity and devotion; but the ignorant tattled
anent her, and the folk of the realm said, “The king’s daughter loveth
the pilgrim youth and he loveth her.” Now the king was a very old man
and destiny decreed the ending of his life-term; so he died and when he
was buried, the lieges assembled and many were the sayings of the people
and of the king’s kinsfolk and officers, and they counselled together to
slay the Princess and the young pilgrim, saying, “This fellow
dishonoureth us with yonder whore and none accepteth shame save the
base.” So they fell upon them and slew the king’s daughter in her
mosque, without asking her of aught; whereupon the pious woman (whom
they deemed a youth) said to them, “Woe to you, O miscreants Ye have
slain the pious lady.” Quoth they, “O thou fulsome fellow, dost thou
bespeak us thus? Thou lovedst her and she loved thee, and we will
assuredly slay thee.” And quoth she, “Allah forfend. Indeed, the affair
is the clear reverse of this.” They asked, “What proof hast thou of
that?” and she answered, “Bring me women.” They did so, and when the
matrons looked on her, they found her a woman. As soon as the townsfolk
saw this, they repented of that they had done and the affair was
grievous to them; so they sought pardon of Allah and said to her, “By
the virtue of Him whom thou servest, do thou crave pardon for us.” Said
she, “As for me, I may no longer tarry with you and I am about to depart
from you.” Then they humbled themselves before her and shed tears and
said to her, “We conjure thee, by the might of Allah the Most High, that
thou take upon thyself the rule of the realm and of the lieges.” But she
refused and drew her back; whereupon they came up to her and wept and
ceased not supplicating her, till she consented and undertook the
kingship. Her first commandment to them was that they bury the Princess
and build over her a dome and she abode in that palace, worshipping the
Almighty and dealing judgment between the people with justice, and Allah
(extolled and exalted be He!) vouchsafed her, for the excellence of her
piety and her patience and renunciation, the acceptance of her prayers,
so that she sought not aught of Him (to whom belong Might and Majesty),
but He granted her petition; and her fame was bruited abroad in all
lands. Accordingly, the folk resorted to her from all parts and she used
to pray Allah (to whom belong Might and Majesty) for the oppressed and
the Lord granted him relief, and against his oppressor, and He brake him
asunder; and she prayed for the sick and they were made sound; and in
this goodly way she tarried a great space of time. So fared it with the
wife; but as for her husband, when he returned from the pilgrimage, his
brother and the neighbours acquainted him with the affair of his spouse,
whereat he was sore concerned and suspected their story, for that which
he knew of her chastity and prayerfulness; and he shed tears for the
loss of her. Meanwhile, she prayed to Almighty Allah that He would
stablish her innocence in the eyes of her spouse and the folk, and He
sent down upon her husband’s brother a sickness so sore that none knew a
cure for him. Wherefore he said to his brother, “In such a city is a
Devotee, a worshipful woman and a recluse whose prayers are accepted; so
do thou carry me to her, that she may pray for my healing and Allah (to
whom belong Might and Majesty) may give me ease of this disease.”
Accordingly, he took him up and journeyed with him, till they came to
the village where dwelt the Shaykh, the grey beard who had rescued the
devout woman from the pit and carried her to his dwelling and healed her
in his home. Here they halted and lodged with the old man, who
questioned the husband of his case and that of his brother and the cause
of their journey, and he said, “I purpose to go with my brother, this
sick wight, to the holy woman, her whose petitions are answered, so she
may pray for him, and Allah may heal him by the blessing of her
orisons.” Quoth the villager, “By Allah, my son is in parlous plight for
sickness and we have heard that this Devotee prayeth for the sick and
they are made sound. Indeed, the folk counsel me to carry him to her,
and behold,[422] I will go in company with you.” And they said, “’Tis
well.” So they all nighted in that intent and on the morrow they set out
for the dwelling of the Devotee, this one carrying his son and that one
bearing his brother. Now the man who had stolen the clothes and had
forged against the pious woman a lie, to wit, that he was her lover,
sickened of a sore sickness, and his people took him up and set out with
him to visit the Devotee and crave her prayers, and Destiny brought them
altogether by the way. So they fared forward in a body till they came to
the city wherein the man dwelt for whom she had paid the thousand
dirhams to deliver him from torture, and found him about to travel to
her by reason of a malady which had betided him. Accordingly, they all
journeyed on together, unknowing that the holy woman was she whom they
had so foully wronged, and ceased not going till they came to her city
and foregathered at the gates of her palace, that wherein was the tomb
of the Princess. Now the folk used to go into her and salute her with
the salam, and crave her orisons; and it was her custom to pray for none
till he had confessed to her his sins, when she would ask pardon for him
and pray for him that he might be healed, and he was straightway made
whole of sickness, by permission of Almighty Allah. When the four sick
men were brought in to her, she knew them forthright, though they knew
her not, and said to them “Let each of you confess and specify his sins,
so I may sue pardon for him and pray for him.” And the brother said, “As
for me, I required my brother’s wife of her person and she refused;
whereupon despite and ignorance prompted me and I lied against her and
accused her to the townsfolk of adultery; so they stoned her and slew
her wrongously and unrighteously; and this my complaint is the issue of
unright and falsehood and of the slaying of the innocent soul, whose
slaughter Allah hath made unlawful to man.” Then said the youth, the old
villager’s son, “And I, O holy woman, my father brought to us a woman
who had been stoned, and my people nursed her till she recovered. Now
she was rare of beauty and loveliness; so I required her of her person;
but she refused and clave in chastity to Allah (to whom belong Might and
Majesty), wherefore ignorance prompted me, so that I agreed with one of
the youths that he should steal clothes and coin from my father’s house.
Then I laid hands on him and carried him to my sire and made him
confess. He declared that the woman was his mistress from the city and
had been stoned on his account and that she was his accomplice in the
theft and had opened the doors to him; but this was a lie against her,
for that she had not yielded to me in that which I sought of her. So
there befel me what ye see of requital.” And the young man, the thief,
said, “I am he with whom thou agreedst concerning the theft, and to whom
thou openedst the door, and I am he who accused her falsely and
calumniously and Allah (extolled be He!) well knoweth that I never did
evil with her; no, nor knew her in any way before that time.” Then said
he whom she had delivered from torture by paying down a thousand dirhams
and who had required her of her person in his house, for that her beauty
pleased him, and when she refused had forged a letter against her and
treacherously denounced her to the Sultan and requited her graciousness
with ingratitude, “I am he who wronged her and lied against her, and
this is the issue of the oppressor’s affair.” When she heard their
words, in the presence of the folk, she cried “Alhamdolillah, praise be
to Allah, the King who over all things is omnipotent, and blessing upon
His prophets and apostles!” Then quoth she to the assembly, “Bear
testimony, O ye here present, to these men’s speech, and know ye I am
that woman whom they confess to having wronged.” And she turned to her
husband’s brother and said to him, “I am thy brother’s wife and Allah
(extolled and exalted be He!) delivered me from that whereinto thou
castedst me of calumny and suspicion, and from the folly and frowardness
whereof thou hast spoken, and now hath He shown forth my innocence, of
His bounty and generosity. Go, for thou art quit of the wrong thou didst
me.” Then she prayed for him and he was made sound of his sickness.
Thereupon she said to the son of the village Shaykh, “Know that I am the
woman whom thy father delivered from strain and stress and whom there
betided from thee of calumny and ignorance that which thou hast named.”
And she sued pardon for him and he was made sound of his sickness. Then
said she to the thief, “I am the woman against whom thou liedst,
avouching that I was thy leman who had been stoned on thine account, and
that I was thine accomplice in robbing the house of the village Shaykh
and had opened the doors to thee.” And she prayed for him and he was
made whole of his malady.[423] Then said she to the townsman, him of the
tribute, “I am the woman who gave thee the thousand dirhams and thou
didst with me what thou didst.” And she asked pardon for him and prayed
for him and he was made whole; whereupon the folk marvelled at her
enemies who had all been afflicted alike, so Allah (extolled and exalted
be He!) might show forth her innocence upon the heads of witnesses.[424]
Then she turned to the old man who had delivered her from the pit and
prayed for him and gave him presents manifold and among them a myriad, a
Badrah;[425] and the sick made whole departed from her. When she was
alone with her husband, she made him draw near unto her and rejoiced in
his arrival, and gave him the choice of abiding with her. Presently, she
assembled the citizens and notified to them his virtue and worth and
counselled them to invest him with management of their rule and besought
them to make him king over them. They consented to her on this and he
became king and made his home amongst them, whilst she gave herself up
to her orisons and cohabited with her husband as she was with him
aforetime. “Nor,” continued the Wazir, “is this tale, O king of the
time, stranger or pleasanter than that of the Hireling and the Girl
whose maw he slit and fled.” When King Shah Bakht heard this, he said,
“Most like all they say of the Minister is leasing, and his innocence
will be made manifest even as that of the Devotee was manifested.” Then
he comforted the Wazir’s heart and bade him hie to his house.
The Nineteenth Night of the Month.
When the evening evened, the King bade fetch the Wazir and sought of him
the story of the Hireling and the Girl. So he said, “Hearkening and
obedience. Give ear, O auspicious King, to
_THE TALE OF THE HIRELING AND THE GIRL_.”
There was once, of old time, in one of the tribes of the Arabs, a woman
pregnant by her husband, and they had a hired servant, a man of insight
and understanding. When the woman came to her delivery-time, she gave
birth to a girl-child in the night and they sought fire of the
neighbours.[426] So the Hireling went in quest of fire. Now there was in
the camp a Divineress,[427] and she questioned him of the new-born
child, an it was male or female. Quoth he, “’Tis a girl;” and quoth she,
“That girl will whore with an hundred men and a hireling shall wed her
and a spider shall slay her.” When the hired man heard this, he returned
upon his steps and going in to the woman, took the child from her by
wily management and slit its maw: then he fled forth into the wold at
hap-hazard and abode in strangerhood while Allah so willed.[428] He
gained much money; and, returning to his own land, after twenty years’
absence, alighted in the neighbourhood of an old woman, whom he wheedled
and treated with liberality, requiring of her a young person whom he
might enjoy without marriage. Said she, “I know none but a certain fair
woman, who is renowned for this industry.” Then she described her charms
to him and made him lust after her, and he said, “Hasten to her this
minute and lavish upon her whatso she asketh.” So the crone betook
herself to the girl and discovered his wishes to her and invited her to
him; but she answered, “’Tis true that I was in habit of whoredom, but
now I have repented to Almighty Allah and have no more longing to this:
nay, I desire lawful wedlock; so, if he be content with that which is
legal, I am between his hands.”[429] The old woman returned to the man
and told him what the damsel said; and he lusted after her, because of
her beauty and her penitence; so he took her to wife, and when he went
in to her, he loved her and after like fashion she loved him. Thus they
abode a great while, till one day he questioned her of the cause of a
scar[430] he espied on her body, and she said, “I wot naught thereof
save that my mother told me a marvellous thing concerning it.” Asked he,
“What was that?” and she answered, “My mother declared that she gave
birth to me one night of the wintry nights and despatched a hired man,
who was with us, in quest of fire for her. He was absent a little while
and presently returning, took me and slit my maw and fled. When my
mother saw this, chagrin seized her and compassion possessed her; so she
sewed up my stomach and nursed me till the wound healed by the ordinance
of Allah (to whom belong Might and Majesty).” When her husband heard
this, he said to her, “What is thy name and what may be the name of thy
mother and who may be thy father?” She told him their names and her own,
whereby he knew that it was she whose maw he had slit and said to her,
“And where are thy mother and father?” “They are both dead.” “I am that
Hireling who slit thy stomach.” “Why didst thou that?” “Because of a
saying I heard from the wise woman.” “What was it?” “She declared thou
wouldst play the whore with an hundred men and that I after that should
wed thee.” “Ay, I have whored with an hundred men, no more and no less,
and behold, thou hast married me.” “The Divineress also foresaid, that
thou shouldst die, at the last of thy life, of the bite of a spider.
Indeed, her saying hath been verified of the fornication and the
marriage, and I fear lest her word come true no less in the death.” Then
they betook themselves to a place without the city, where he builded him
a mansion of solid stone and white stucco and stopped its inner walls
and plastered them; leaving not therein or cranny or crevice, and he set
in it two slave-girls whose services were sweeping and wiping, for fear
of spiders. Here he abode with his wife a great while, till one day the
man espied a spider on the ceiling and beat it down. When his wife saw
it, she said, “This is that which the wise woman foresaid would slay me;
so, by thy life, suffer me to kill it with mine own hand.” Her husband
forbade her from this, but she conjured him to let her destroy the
spider; then, of her fearfulness and her eagerness, she took a piece of
wood and smote it. The wood brake of the force of the blow, and a
splinter from it entered her hand and wrought upon it, so that it
swelled. Then her fore-arm also swelled and the swelling spread to her
side and thence grew till it reached her heart and she died. “Nor,”
(continued the Wazir), “is this stranger or more wondrous than the story
of the Weaver who became a Leach by commandment of his wife.” When the
King heard this, his admiration redoubled and he said, “In very truth,
Destiny is written to all creatures, and I will not accept aught that is
said against my Minister the loyal counsellor.” And he bade him hie to
his home.
The Twentieth Night of the Month.
When the evening evened, the King bade summon his Minister and he
presented himself before him, whereupon he required of him the hearing
of the story. So the Wazir said, “Hearkening and obedience. Give ear, O
King, to
_THE TALE OF THE WEAVER WHO BECAME A LEACH BY ORDER OF HIS WIFE_.”
There was once, in the land of Fars,[431] a man who wedded a woman
higher than himself in rank and nobler of lineage, but she had no
guardian to preserve her from want. She loathed to marry one who was
beneath her; yet she wived with him because of need, and took of him a
bond in writing to the effect that he would ever be under her order to
bid and forbid and would never thwart her in word or in deed. Now the
man was a Weaver and he bound himself in writing to pay his wife ten
thousand dirhams in case of default. After such fashion they abode a
long while till one day the wife went out to fetch water, of which she
had need, and saw a leach who had spread a carpet hard by the road,
whereon he had set out great store of simples[432] and implements of
medicine and he was speaking and muttering charms, whilst the folk
flocked to him from all quarters and girt him about on every side. The
Weaver’s wife marvelled at the largeness of the physician’s fortune[433]
and said in herself, “Were my husband thus, he would lead an easy life
and that wherein we are of straitness and poverty would be widened to
him.” Then she returned home, cark-full and care-full, and when her
husband saw her in this condition, he questioned her of her case and she
said to him, “Verily, my breast is narrowed by reason of thee and of the
very goodness of thine intent,” presently adding, “Narrow means suit me
not and thou in thy present craft gainest naught; so either do thou seek
out a business other than this or pay me my rightful due[434] and let me
wend my ways.” Her husband chid her for this and advised her to take
patience; but she would not be turned from her design and said to him,
“Go forth and watch yonder physician how he doth and learn from him what
he saith.” Said he, “Let not thy heart be troubled,” and added, “I will
go every day to the session of the leach.” So he began resorting daily
to the physician and committing to memory his answers and that which he
spoke of jargon,[435] till he had gotten a great matter by rote, and all
this he learned and thoroughly digested it. Then he returned to his wife
and said to her, “I have stored up the physician’s sayings in memory and
have mastered his manner of muttering and diagnoses and prescribing
remedies and I wot by heart the names of the medicines[436] and of all
the diseases, and there abideth of thy bidding naught undone: so what
dost thou command me now to do?” Quoth she, “Leave the loom and open
thyself a leach’s shop;” but quoth he, “My fellow-townsmen know me and
this affair will not profit me, save in a land of strangerhood; so come,
let us go out from this city and get us to a foreign land and there
live.” And she said, “Do whatso thou willest.” Accordingly, he arose and
taking his weaving gear, sold it and bought with the price drugs and
simples and wrought himself a carpet, with which they set out and
journeyed to a certain village, where they took up their abode. Then the
man fell to going round about the hamlets and villages and outskirts of
towns, after donning leach’s dress; and he began to earn his livelihood
and make much gain. Their affairs prospered and their circumstances were
bettered; wherefore they praised Allah for their present ease and the
village became to them a home. In this way he lived for a long time, but
at length he wandered anew,[437] and the days and the nights ceased not
to transport him from country to country, till he came to the land of
the Roum and lighted down in a city of the cities thereof, wherein was
Jálínús[438] the Sage; but the Weaver knew him not, nor was aware who he
was. So he fared forth, as was his wont, in quest of a place where the
folk might be gathered together, and hired the courtyard[439] of
Jalinus. There he spread his carpet and setting out on it his simples
and instruments of medicine, praised himself and his skill and claimed a
cleverness such as none but he might claim.[440] Jalinus heard that
which he affirmed of his understanding and it was certified unto him and
established in his mind that the man was a skilled leach of the leaches
of the Persians and he said in himself, “Unless he had confidence in his
knowledge and were minded to confront me and contend with me, he had not
sought the door of my house neither had he spoken that which he hath
spoken.” And care and doubt gat hold upon Jalinus: so he drew near the
Weaver and addressed himself to see how his doings should end, whilst
the folk began to flock to him and describe to him their ailments,[441]
and he would answer them thereof, hitting the mark one while and missing
it another while, so that naught appeared to Jalinus of his fashion
whereby his mind might be assured that he had justly estimated his
skill. Presently, up came a woman with a urinal,[442] and when the
Weaver saw the phial afar off, he said to her, “This is the water of a
man, a stranger.” Said she, “Yes;” and he continued, “Is he not a Jew
and is not his ailment flatulence?” “Yes,” replied the woman, and the
folk marvelled at this; wherefore the man was magnified in the eyes of
Jalinus, for that he heard speech such as was not of the usage of
doctors, seeing that they know not urine but by shaking it and looking
straitly thereon, neither wot they a man’s water from a woman’s water,
nor a stranger’s from a countryman’s, nor a Jew’s from a Sharif’s.[443]
Then the woman asked, “What is the remedy?” and the Weaver answered,
“Bring the honorarium.”[444] So she paid him a dirham and he gave her
medicines contrary to that ailment and such as would only aggravate the
complaint. When Jalinus saw what appeared to him of the man’s
incapacity, he turned to his disciples and pupils and bade them fetch
the mock doctor, with all his gear and drugs. Accordingly they brought
him into his presence without stay or delay, and when Jalinus saw him
before him, he asked him, “Knowest thou me?” and the other answered,
“No, nor did I ever set eyes on thee before this day.” Quoth the Sage,
“Dost thou know Jalinus?” and quoth the Weaver, “No.” Then said Jalinus,
“What drave thee to do that which thou dost?” So he acquainted him with
his adventure, especially with the dowry and the obligation by which he
was bound with regard to his wife whereat the Sage marvelled and
certified himself anent the matter of the marriage-settlement. Then he
bade lodge him near himself and entreated him with kindness and took him
apart and said to him, “Expound to me the story of the urine-phial and
whence thou knewest that the water therein was that of a man, and he a
stranger and a Jew, and that his ailment was flatulence?” The Weaver
replied, “’Tis well. Thou must know that we people of Persia are skilled
in physiognomy,[445] and I saw the woman to be rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed
and tall-statured. Now these qualities belong to women who are enamoured
of a man and are distracted for love of him;[446] moreover, I saw her
burning with anxiety; so I knew that the patient was her husband.[447]
As for his strangerhood, I noted that the dress of the woman differed
from that of the townsfolk, wherefore I knew that she was a foreigner;
and in the mouth of the phial I saw a yellow rag,[448] which garred me
wot that the sick man was a Jew and she a Jewess. Moreover, she came to
me on first day;[449] and ’tis the Jews’ custom to take
meat-puddings[450] and food that hath passed the night[451] and eat them
on the Saturday their Sabbath, hot and cold, and they exceed in eating;
wherefore flatulence and indigestion betide them. Thus I was directed
and guessed that which thou hast heard.” Now when Jalinus heard this, he
ordered the Weaver the amount of his wife’s dowry and bade him pay it to
her and said to him, “Divorce her.” Furthermore, he forbade him from
returning to the practice of physic and warned him never again to take
to wife a woman of rank higher than his own; and he gave him his
spending-money and charged him return to his proper craft. “Nor”
(continued the Wazir), “is this tale stranger or rarer than the story of
the Two Sharpers who each cozened his Compeer.” When King Shah Bakht
heard this, he said to himself, “How like is this story to my present
case with this Minister, who hath not his like!” Then he bade him hie to
his own house and come again at eventide.
The Twenty-first Night of the Month.
Whenas nighted the night, the Wazir presented himself before the King,
who bade him relate the promised story. So he said, “Hearkening and
obedience. Give ear, O King, to
_THE TALE OF THE TWO SHARPERS WHO EACH COZENED HIS COMPEER_.”
There was once, in the city of Baghdad, a man hight Al-Marwazí,[452] who
was a sharper and ruined the folk with his rogueries and he was renowned
in all quarters for knavery. He went out one day, carrying a load of
sheep’s droppings, and sware to himself that he would not return to his
lodging till he had sold it at the price of raisins. Now there was in
another city a second sharper, hight Al-Rází,[453] one of its worst, who
went out the same day, bearing a load of goat’s droppings,[454] anent
which he had sworn to himself that he would not sell it but at the price
of sun-dried figs. So the twain fared on with that which was by them and
ceased not going till they met in one of the khans[455] and one
complained to other of what he had suffered on travel in quest of gain
and of the little demand for his wares. Now each of them had it in mind
to cheat his fellow; so the man of Marw said to the man of Rayy, “Wilt
thou sell me that?” He said, “Yes,” and the other continued, “And wilt
thou buy that which is with me?” The man of Rayy consented; so they
agreed upon this and each of them sold to his mate that which was with
him in exchange for the other’s; after which they bade farewell and both
fared forth. As soon as the twain were out of sight, they examined their
loads, to see what was therein, and one of them found that he had a load
of sheep’s droppings and the other that he had a load of goat’s
droppings; whereupon each of them turned back in quest of his fellow.
They met again in the khan and laughing at each other cancelled their
bargain; then they agreed to enter into partnership and that all they
had of money and other good should be in common, share and share alike.
Then quoth Al-Razi to Al-Marwazi, “Come with me to my city, for that
’tis nearer than thine.” So he went with him, and when he arrived at his
quarters, he said to his wife and household and neighbours, “This is my
brother, who hath been absent in the land of Khorasan and is come back.”
And he abode with him in all honour for a space of three days. On the
fourth day, Al-Razi said to him, “Know, O my brother, that I purpose to
do something.” The other asked, “What is it?” and the first answered, “I
mean to feign myself dead and do thou go to the bazar and hire two
porters and a bier. Then take me up and go about the streets and markets
with my body and collect alms on my account.[456]” Accordingly the Marw
man repaired to the market and, fetching that which he sought, returned
to the Rayy man’s house, where he found his fellow cast down in the
entrance-passage, with his beard tied and his eyes shut, and his
complexion was paled and his belly was blown and his limbs were loose.
So he deemed him really dead and shook him but he spoke not; then he
took a knife and pricked his feet, but he budged not. Presently said
Al-Razi, “What is this, O fool?” and said Al-Marwazi, “I deemed thou
wast dead in very deed.” Al-Razi cried, “Get thee to business, and leave
funning.” So he took him up and went with him to the market and
collected alms for him that day till eventide, when he bore him back to
his abode and waited till the morrow. Next morning, he again took up the
bier and walked round with it as before, in quest of charity. Presently,
the Chief of Police, who was of those who had given him alms on the
previous day, met him; so he was angered and fell on the porters and
beat them and took the dead body, saying, “I will bury him and win
reward in Heaven.”[457] So his followers took him up and carrying him to
the Police-officer, fetched grave-diggers, who dug him a grave. Then
they brought him a shroud and perfumes[458] and fetched an old man of
the quarter, to wash him: so the Shaykh recited over him the appointed
prayers[459] and laying him on the bench, washed him and shrouded him.
After he had been shrouded he skited;[460] so the grey beard renewed the
washing and went away to make the Wuzu-ablution, whilst all the folk
departed to do likewise, before the orisons of the funeral. When the
dead man found himself alone, he sprang up, as he were a Satan; and,
donning the corpse-washer’s dress,[461] took the cups and water-can[462]
and wrapped them up in the napkins; then he clapped his shroud under his
armpit and went out. The doorkeepers thought that he was the washer and
asked him, “Hast thou made an end of the washing, so we may acquaint the
Emir?” The sharper answered “Yes,” and made off to his abode, where he
found the Marw man a-wooing his wife and saying to her, “By thy life,
thou wilt never again look upon his face for the best reason that by
this time he is buried: I myself escaped not from them but after toil
and trouble, and if he speak, they will do him to death.” Quoth she,
“And what wouldst thou have of me?” and quoth he, “Satisfy my desire and
heal my disorder, for I am better than thy husband.” And he began toying
with her as a prelude to possession. Now when the Rayy man heard this,
he said, “Yonder wittol-pimp lusteth after my wife; but I will at once
do him a damage.” Then he rushed in upon them, and when Al-Marwazi saw
him, he wondered at him and said to him, “How didst thou make thine
escape?” Accordingly he told him the trick he had played and they abode
talking of that which they had collected from the folk, and indeed they
had gotten great store of money. Then said the man of Marw, “In very
sooth, mine absence hath been prolonged and lief would I return to my
own land.” Al-Razi said, “As thou willest;” and the other rejoined, “Let
us divide the monies we have made and do thou go with me to my home, so
I may show thee my tricks and my works.” Replied the man of Rayy, “Come
to-morrow, and we will divide the coin.” So the Marw man went away and
the other turned to his wife and said to her, “We have collected us
great plenty of money, and the dog would fain take the half of it; but
such thing shall never be, for my mind hath been changed against him,
since I heard him making love to thee; now, therefore, I propose to play
him a trick and enjoy all the money; and do thou not oppose me.” She
replied, “’Tis well;” and he said to her, “To-morrow, at peep o’ day I
will feign myself dead, and do thou cry aloud and tear thy hair,
whereupon the folk will flock to me. Then lay me out and bury me; and,
when the folk are gone away from the grave, dig down to me and take me;
and fear not for me, as I can abide without harm two days in the
tomb-niche.”[463] Whereto she made answer, “Do e’en whatso thou wilt.”
Accordingly, when it was the dawn-hour, she bound his beard and
spreading a veil over him, shrieked aloud, whereupon the people of the
quarter flocked to her, men and women. Presently, up came Al-Marwazi,
for the division of the money, and hearing the keening asked, “What may
be the news?” Quoth they, “Thy brother is dead;” and quoth he in
himself, “The accursed fellow cozeneth me, so he may get all the coin
for himself, but I will presently do with him what shall soon re-quicken
him.” Then he tare the bosom of his robe and bared his head, weeping and
saying, “Alas, my brother, ah! Alas, my chief, ah! Alas, my lord, ah!”
And he went in to the men, who rose and condoled with him. Then he
accosted the Rayy man’s wife and said to her, “How came his death to
occur?” Said she, “I know nothing except that, when I arose in the
morning, I found him dead.” Moreover, he questioned her of the money
which was with her, but she cried, “I have no knowledge of this and no
tidings.” So he sat down at his fellow-sharper’s head, and said to him,
“Know, O Razi, that I will not leave thee till after ten days with their
nights, wherein I will wake and sleep by thy grave. So rise and don’t be
a fool.” But he answered him not, and the man of Marw drew his knife and
fell to sticking it into the other’s hands and feet, purposing to make
him move; but he stirred not and he presently grew weary of this and
determined that the sharper was really dead. However, he still had his
suspicions and said to himself, “This fellow is falsing me, so he may
enjoy all the money.” Therewith he began to prepare the body for burial
and bought for it perfumes and whatso was needed. Then they brought him
to the washing-place and Al-Marwazi came to him; and, heating water till
it boiled and bubbled and a third of it was evaporated, fell to pouring
it on his skin, so that it turned bright red and lively blue and was
blistered; but he abode still on one case.[464] Presently they wrapped
him in the shroud and set him on the bier, which they took up and
bearing him to the burial-place, placed him in the grave-niche and
filled in the earth; after which the folk dispersed. But the Marw man
and the widow abode by the tomb, weeping, and ceased not sitting till
sundown, when the woman said to him, “Come, let us hie us home, for this
weeping will not profit us, nor will it restore the dead.” He replied to
her, “By Allah, I will not budge hence till I have slept and waked by
this tomb ten days with their nights!” When she heard this his speech,
she feared lest he should keep his word and his oath, and so her husband
perish; but she said in her mind, “This one dis-sembleth: an I leave him
and return to my house, he will tarry by him a little while and go
away.” And Al-Marwazi said to her, “Arise, thou, and hie thee home.” So
she arose and repaired to her house, whilst the man of Marw abode in his
place till the night was half spent, when he said to himself, “How long?
Yet how can I let this knavish dog die and lose the money? Better I open
the tomb on him and bring him forth and take my due of him by dint of
grievous beating and torment.” Accordingly, he dug him up and pulled him
forth of the grave; after which he betook himself to a garden hard by
the burial-ground and cut thence staves and palm-fronds.[465] Then he
tied the dead man’s legs and laid on to him with the staff and beat him
a grievous beating; but the body never budged. When the time grew
longsome on him, his shoulders became a-weary and he feared lest some
one of the watch passing on his round should surprise and seize him. So
he took up Al-Razi and carrying him forth of the cemetery, stayed not
till he came to the Magians’ mortuary-place and casting him down in a
Tower of Silence,[466] rained heavy blows upon him till his shoulders
failed him, but the other stirred not. Then he seated him by his side
and rested; after which he rose and renewed the beating upon him; and
thus he did till the end of the night, but without making him move. Now,
as Destiny decreed, a band of robbers whose wont it was, when they had
stolen anything, to resort to that place and there divide their loot,
came thither in early-dawn, according to their custom; they numbered ten
and they had with them much wealth which they were carrying. When they
approached the Tower of Silence, they heard a noise of blows within it
and their captain cried, “This is a Magian whom the Angels[467] are
tormenting.” So they entered the cemetery and as soon as they arrived
over against him, the man of Marw feared lest they should be the
watchmen come upon him, therefore he fled and stood among the
tombs.[468] The robbers advanced to the place and finding the man of
Rayy bound by the feet and by him some seventy sticks, wondered at this
with exceeding wonder and said, “Allah confound thee! This was a
miscreant, a man of many crimes; for earth hath rejected him from her
womb, and by my life, he is yet fresh! This is his first night in the
tomb and the Angels were tormenting him but now; so whoso of you hath a
sin upon his soul, let him beat him, by way of offering to Almighty
Allah.” The robbers said, “We be sinners one and all;” so each of them
went up to the corpse and dealt it about an hundred blows, one saying
the while, “This is for my father!”[469] and another laid on to him
crying, “This is for my grandfather!” whilst a third muttered, “This is
for my brother!” and a fourth exclaimed, “This is for my mother!” And
they gave not taking turns at him and beating him till they were weary,
whilst Al-Marwazi stood laughing and saying in himself, “’Tis not I
alone who have entered into default against him. There is no Majesty and
there is no Might save in Allah, the Glorious, the Great!”[470] Then the
robbers applied themselves to sharing their loot wherein was a sword
which caused them to fall out anent the man who should take it. Quoth
the Captain, “’Tis my rede that we make proof of it; so, an it be a fine
blade, we shall know its worth, and if it be worthless we shall know
that;” whereto they said, “Try it on this corpse, for it is fresh.” So
the Captain took the sword and drawing it, brandished and made a false
cut with it; but, when the man of Rayy saw this, he felt sure of death
and said in his mind, “I have borne the washing-slab and the boiling
water and the pricking with the knife-point and the grave-niche and its
straitness and all this, trusting in Allah that I might be delivered
from death, and indeed I have been delivered; but the sword I may not
suffer seeing that one stroke of it will make me a dead man.” So saying,
he sprang to his feet and seizing a thigh-bone of one departed, shouted
at the top of his voice, “O ye dead ones, take them to yourselves!” And
he smote one of them, whilst his mate of Marw smote another and they
cried out at them and buffeted them on their neck-napes: whereupon the
robbers left that which was with them of loot and ran away; and indeed
their wits took flight for terror and they ceased not running till they
came forth of the Magians mortuary-ground and left it a parasang’s
length behind them, when they halted, trembling and affrighted for the
muchness of that which had befallen them of fear and awe of the
dead.[471] As for Al-Razi and Al-Marwazi, they made peace each with
other and sat down to share the spoil. Quoth the man of Marw, “I will
not give thee a dirham of this money, till thou pay me my due of the
monies that be in thy house.” And quoth the man of Rayy, “I will do
naught of the kind,[472] nor will I withdraw this from aught of my due.”
So they fell out thereupon and disputed each with other and either of
the twain went saying to his fellow, “I will not give thee a dirham!”
Wherefore words ran high between them and the brawl was prolonged.
Meanwhile, when the robbers halted, one of them said to the others, “Let
us go back and see;” and the Captain said, “This thing is impossible of
the dead: never heard we that they came to life in such way. Return we
and take our monies, for that the dead have no need of money.” And they
were divided in opinion as to returning: but presently one said,
“Indeed, our weapons are gone and we may not prevail against them and
will not draw near the place: only let one of us go look at it, and if
he hear no sound of them, let him suggest to us what we shall do.” At
this they agreed that they should send a man of them and assigned him
for such mission two parts of the plunder. Accordingly he returned to
the burial-ground and gave not over going till he stood at the door of
the Tower of Silence, when he heard the words of Al-Marwazi to his
fellow, “I will not give thee a single dirham of the money!” The other
said the same and they were occupied with brawling and abuse and talk.
So the robber returned in haste to his mates, who said, “What is behind
thee?”[473] Quoth he, “Get you gone and run for your lives, O fools, and
save yourselves: much people of the dead are come to life and between
them are words and brawls.” Hereat the robbers fled, whilst the two
sharpers returned to the man of Rayy’s house and made peace and added
the robbers’ spoil to the monies they had gained and lived a length of
time. “Nor, O king of the age” (continued the Wazir), “is this stranger
or rarer than the story of the Four Sharpers with the Shroff and the
Ass.” When the king heard this story, he smiled and it pleased him and
he bade the Minister to his own house.
[Illustration]
The Twenty-Second Night of the Month.
When the evening evened, King Shah Bakht summoned the Wazir and required
of him the hearing of the story. So Al-Rahwan said, “Hearkening and
obedience. Give ear, O King, to
_THE TALE OF THE SHARPERS WITH THE SHROFF[474] AND THE ASS_.”
Four sharpers once plotted against a Shroff, a man of much wealth, and
agreed upon a sleight for securing some of his coins. So one of them
took an ass and laying on it a bag, wherein were dirhams, lighted down
at the shop of the Shroff and sought of him small change. The man of
monies brought out to him the silver bits and bartered them with him,
whilst the sharper was easy with him in the matter of the exchange, so
he might gar him long for more gain. As they were thus, up came the
other three sharpers and surrounded the donkey; and one of them said,
“’Tis he,” and another said, “Wait till I look at him.” Then he took to
considering the ass and stroking him from crest[475] to tail; whilst the
third went up to him and handled him and felt him from head to rump,
saying, “Yes, ’tis in him.” Said another, “No, ’tis not in him;” and
they left not doing the like of this for some time. Then they accosted
the donkey’s owner and chaffered with him and he said, “I will not sell
him but for ten thousand dirhams.” They offered him a thousand dirhams;
but he refused and swore that he would not vend the ass but for that
which he had said. They ceased not adding to their offer till the price
reached five thousand dirhams, whilst their mate still said, “I’ll not
vend him save for ten thousand silver pieces.” The Shroff advised him to
sell, but he would not do this and said to him, “Ho, Shaykh! Thou
wottest not the case of this donkey. Stick to silver and gold and what
pertaineth thereto of exchange and small change; because indeed the
virtue of this ass is a mystery to thee. For every craft its crafty men
and for every means of livelihood its peculiar people.” When the affair
was prolonged upon the three sharpers, they went away and sat down
aside; then they came up privily to the money-changer and said to him,
“An thou can buy him for us, do so, and we will give thee twenty
dirhams.” Quoth he, “Go away and sit down at a distance from him.” So
they did as he bade and the Shroff went up to the owner of the ass and
ceased not luring him with lucre and saying, “Leave these wights and
sell me the donkey, and I will reckon him a present from thee,” till he
sold him the animal for five thousand and five hundred dirhams.
Accordingly the money-changer weighed out to him that sum of his own
monies, and the owner of the ass took the price and delivered the beast
to him, saying, “Whatso shall betide, though he abide a deposit upon thy
neck,[476] sell him not to yonder cheats for less than ten thousand
dirhams, for that they would fain buy him because of a hidden hoard they
know, whereto naught can guide them save this donkey. So close thy hand
on him and cross me not, or thou shalt repent.” With these words he left
him and went away, whereupon up came the three other sharpers, the
comrades of him of the ass, and said to the Shroff, “God requite thee
for us with good, in that thou hast bought him! How can we reward thee?”
Quoth he, “I will not sell him but for ten thousand dirhams.” When they
heard that they returned to the ass and fell again to examining him like
buyers and handling him. Then said they to the money-changer, “Indeed we
were deceived in him. This is not the ass we sought and he is not worth
to us more than ten nusfs.”[477] Then they left him and offered to go
away, whereat the Shroff was sore chagrined and cried out at their
speech, saying, “O folk, ye asked me to buy him for you and now I have
bought him, ye say, we were deceived in him, and he is not worth to us
more than ten nusfs.” They replied, “We thought that in him was whatso
we wanted; but, behold, in him is the contrary of that which we wish;
and indeed he hath a blemish, for that he is short of back.” Then they
made long noses[478] at him and went away from him and dispersed. The
money-changer deemed they did but play him off, that they might get the
donkey at their own price; but, when they walked away from him and he
had long awaited their return, he cried out, saying, “Well-away!” and
“Ruin!” and “Sorry case I am in!” and shrieked aloud and rent his
raiment. So the market-people assembled to him and questioned him of his
case; whereupon he acquainted them with his condition and told them what
the knaves had said and how they had cozened him and how they had
cajoled him into buying an ass worth fifty dirhams[479] for five
thousand and five hundred.[480] His friends blamed him and a gathering
of the folk laughed at him and admired his folly and over-faith in
believing the talk of the sharpers without suspicion, and meddling with
that which he understood not and thrusting himself into that whereof he
had no sure knowledge. “On this wise, O King Shah Bakht” (continued the
Wazir), “is the issue of greed for the goods of the world and indeed
coveting that which our knowledge containeth not shall lead to ruin and
repentance. Nor, O King of the age (added he), is this story stranger
than that of the Cheat and the Merchants.” When the King heard these
words, he said in himself, “Indeed, had I given ear to the sayings of my
courtiers and inclined to their idle prate in the matter of my Minister,
I had repented to the utterest of penitence, but Alhamdolillah—laud be
to the Lord—who hath disposed me to endurance and long-suffering and
hath vouchsafed to me patience!” Then he turned to the Wazir and
dismissed him to his dwelling and gave congé those who were present,
according to his custom.
The Twenty-Third Night of the Month.
When the evening evened, the King summoned the Minister and when he
presented himself before him, he required of him the hearing of the
story. So he said, “Hearing and obeying. Give ear, O illustrious lord,
to
_THE TALE OF THE CHEAT AND THE MERCHANTS_.”