inside out by his talk, and he was a model of cleverness and quick wit
and skill and mischief. It was his wont to enter a town and make a show
of being a trader and engage in intimacy with people of worth and sit in
session with the merchants, for his name was noted as a man of virtue
and piety. Then he would put a sleight on them and take of them what he
might spend and fare forth to another stead; and he ceased not to do
thus for a while of time. It chanced one day that he entered a certain
city and sold somewhat that was with him of merchandise and made friends
of the merchants of the place and took to sitting with them and
entertaining them and inviting them to his quarters and his assembly,
whilst they also invited him to their houses. He abode after such
fashion a long time until he was minded to quit the city; and this was
bruited among his intimates, who grieved for parting from him. Then he
betook himself to one of them who was the richest in substance and the
most conspicuous for generosity, and sat with him and borrowed his
goods; and when rising to depart, he bade him return the deposit that he
had left with him. Quoth the merchant, “And what is the deposit?” and
quoth the Cheat, “’Tis such a purse, with the thousand dinars therein.”
The merchant asked, “And when didst thou give me that same?” and the
Cheat answered, “Extolled be Allah of All Might! Was it not on such a
day, by such a token which is thus and thus?” The man rejoined, “I know
naught of this,” and words were bandied about between them, whilst the
folk who heard them disputed together concerning their sayings and
doings, till their voices rose high and the neighbours had knowledge of
that which passed between them.[481] Then said the Cheat, “O people,
this is my friend and I deposited with him a deposit which he denieth
having received: so in whom shall men put trust after this?” And they
said, “This person is a man of worth and we have known in him naught but
trustiness and good faith and the best of breeding, and he is endowed
with sense and manliness.[482] Indeed, he affirmeth no false claim, for
that we have consorted and associated with him and he with us and we
know the sincerity of his religion.” Then quoth one of them to the
merchant, “Ho, Such-an-one! Bethink thee of the past and refresh thy
memory. It cannot be that thou hast forgotten.” But quoth he, “O people,
I wot nothing of what he saith, for indeed he deposited naught with me:”
and the matter was prolonged between them. Then said the Cheat to the
merchant, “I am about to travel and I have, praised be Allah Almighty,
much wealth, and this money shall not escape me; but do thou make oath
to me.” And the folk said, “Indeed, this man doth justice upon
himself.”[483] Whereupon the merchant fell into that which he
disliked[484] and came nigh upon loss and ill fame. Now he had a friend,
who pretended to sharpness and intelligence; so he came up to him
secretly and said to him, “Let me do so I may cheat this Cheat, for I
know him to be a liar and thou art near upon having to weigh out the
gold; but I will parry off suspicion from thee and say to him, The
deposit is with me and thou erredst in suspecting that it was with other
than myself; and so I will divert him from thee.” The other replied, “Do
so, and rid the people of such pretended debts.” Accordingly the friend
turned to the Cheat and said to him, “O my lord, I am Such-an-one, and
thou goest under a delusion. The purse is with me, for it was with me
that thou depositedst it, and this Shaykh is innocent of it.” But the
Cheat answered him with impatience and impetuosity, saying, “Extolled be
Allah! As for the purse that is with thee, O noble and faithful man, I
know ’tis under Allah’s charge and my heart is easy anent it, because
’tis with thee as it were with me; but I began by demanding the purse
which I deposited with this man, of my knowledge that he coveteth the
goods of folk.” At this the friend was confounded and put to silence and
returned not a reply; and the only result of his meddling was that each
of them—merchant and friend—had to pay a thousand gold pieces. So the
Cheat took the two thousand dinars and made off; and when he was gone,
the merchant said to his friend, the man of pretended sharpness and
intelligence, “Ho, Such-an-one! Thou and I are like the Falcon and the
Locust.” The friend asked, “What was their case?” and the merchant
answered with
_THE STORY OF THE FALCON AND THE LOCUST_.[485]
There was once, of old time, a Falcon who made himself a nest hard by
the home of a Locust, and his neighbour gloried in such neighbourhood
and betaking herself to him, saluted him with the salam and said, “O my
lord and lord of all the birds, indeed the nearness to thee delighteth
me and thou honourest me with thy vicinity and my soul is fortified with
thee.” The Falcon thanked her for this and friendship between them
followed. One day, the Locust said to the bird, “O prince of the flying
race, how is it that I see thee alone, solitary, having with thee no
friend of thy kind, the volatiles, on whom thou mayst repose in time of
gladness and of whom thou mayst seek aid in tide of sadness? Indeed,
’tis said:—Man goeth about seeking ease of body and ward of strength,
and there is naught in this more necessary to him than a true friend who
shall be the crown of his comfort and the column of his career and on
whom shall be his dependence in his distress and in his delight. Now I,
although ardently desiring thy weal in that which befitteth thy rank and
degree, yet am weak in that which the soul craveth; but, an thou deign
give me leave, I will seek out for thee one of the birds who shall
fellow thee in body and strength.” And the Falcon said, “I commit this
to thee and rely upon thee herein.” Thereupon, O my brother (quoth the
merchant), the Locust began going round the company of the birds, but
saw naught resembling the Falcon in bulk and body save the Kite and
thought well of her. So she brought the twain together and counselled
the Falcon to foregather with the Kite. Presently it fortuned that the
Falcon fell sick and the Kite tarried with and tended him a long while
till he recovered and became sound and strong, wherefore he thanked her
and she fared from him. But after some days the Falcon’s sickness
returned to him and he needed succour of the Kite, so the Locust went
out from him and was absent from him a day; after which she returned to
him with another locust,[486] saying, “I have brought thee this one.”
When the Falcon saw her, he said, “God requite thee with good! Indeed,
thou hast done well in the quest and thou hast shown subtlety and
discrimination in the choice.” All this, O my brother (continued the
merchant) befel because the Locust had no knowledge of the essence which
lurketh in the outer semblance of bodies. As for thee, O my brother,
(Allah requite thee with weal!) thou wast subtle in device and usedst
precaution, but forethought availeth not against Fate, and Fortune
foreordained baffleth force of fence. How excellent is the saying of the
poet when he spake these couplets:—[487]
It chances whiles that the blind man escapes a pit, ✿ Whilst he who is
clear of sight falls into it.
The ignorant man may speak with impunity ✿ A word that is death to the
wise and the ripe of wit.
The true believer is pinched for his daily bread, ✿ Whilst infidel
rogues enjoy all benefit.
Where is a man’s resource and what can he do? ✿ It is the Almighty’s
will; we must submit.
“Nor” (continued the Wazir) “is this, O king of the age, rarer or
stranger than the story of the King and his Chamberlain’s wife; nay,
this is more wondrous than that and more delectable.” When the king
heard this story, he was strengthened in his resolve to spare the
Minister and to eschew haste in an affair whereof he was not certified;
so he comforted him and bade him hie to his home.
The Twenty-fourth Night of the Month.
When it was night, the King summoned the Wazir and sought of him the
hearing of the story. Al-Rahwan replied, “Hearkening and obedience!
Listen, O august sovran, to
_THE TALE OF THE KING AND HIS CHAMBERLAIN’S WIFE_.”[488]
There was once, in days of yore and in ages and times long gone before,
a King of the kings of the Persians, who was much addicted to the love
of fair women. His courtiers spoke him of the wife of a certain of his
Chamberlains, a model of beauty and loveliness and perfect grace, and
this egged him on to go in to her. When she saw him, she knew him and
said to him, “What urgeth the King to this that he doeth?” and he
replied, saying, “Verily, I long for thee with excess of longing and
there is no help but that I enjoy thy favours.” And he gave her of
wealth that after whose like women lust; but she said, “I cannot do the
deed whereof the king speaketh, for fear of my husband;”[489] and she
refused herself to him with the most rigorous of refusals and would not
suffer him to win his wish. So the king went out in wrath, and forgot
his girdle in the place. Now it chanced that her husband entered
immediately after his lord had departed, and saw the girdle and knew it.
He was aware of the king’s love for women; so quoth he to his wife,
“What be this I see with thee?” Quoth she, “I’ll tell thee the truth,”
and recounted to him the occurrence; but he believed her not and
suspicion entered his heart. As for the King, he passed that night in
care and concern, and when the morning morrowed, he summoned that
Chamberlain and made him governor of one of his provinces; then he bade
him betake himself thither, purposing, after he should have departed and
fared afar, to foregather with his wife. The Chamberlain perceived his
project and kenned his intent; so he answered, saying, “To hear is to
obey!” presently adding, “I will go and order my affairs and give such
injunctions as may be needed for the well-doing of my affairs; then will
I go about the sovran’s commission.” And the King said, “Do this and
make haste.” So the Chamberlain went about that which he needed and
assembling his wife’s kinsfolk, said to them, “I am determined to
dismiss my wife.” They took this ill of him and complained of him and
summoning him before the sovereign, sat prosecuting him. Now the King
had no knowledge of that which had passed; so he said to the
Chamberlain, “Why wilt thou put her away and how can thy soul consent to
this and why takest thou unto thyself a fine and fertile piece of land
and presently forsakest it?” Answered the husband, “Allah amend the
king! By the Almighty, O my King, I saw therein the trail of the lion
and fear to enter that land, lest the lion devour me, and the like of my
affair with her is that which befel between the Crone and the Draper’s
Wife.” The king asked, “What is their adventure?” and the chamberlain
answered, “Hear, O king,
_THE STORY OF THE CRONE AND THE DRAPER’S WIFE_.”[490]
There was once a man of the Drapers, who had a beautiful wife, and she
was curtained[491] and chaste. A certain young man saw her coming forth
of the Hammam and loved her and his heart was engrossed with her. So he
devised for access to her all manner of devices, but availed not to
foregather with her; and when he was a-weary and his patience failed for
travail and trouble and his fortitude betrayed and forsook him and he
was at an end of his resources against her, he complained of this to an
ill-omened crone,[492] who promised him to bring about union between him
and his beloved. He thanked her for this and promised her all manner of
_douceurs_; and she said to him, “Hie thee to her husband and buy of him
a turband-cloth of fine linen, and let it be of the very best of stuff.”
So he repaired to the Draper and buying of him a turband-cloth of lawn,
returned and gave it to the old woman, who took it and burned it in two
places. Then she donned the dress of a devotee and taking the
turband-cloth with her, went to the Draper’s house and knocked at the
door. When the Draper’s wife saw her thus habited as a holy woman, she
opened to her and admitted her with kindly reception, and made much of
her and welcomed her: so the crone went in to her and conversed with her
awhile. Then said she to her, “I want to make the Wuzu-ablution
preparatory to prayer.”[493] At these words the wife brought the water
and she made the ablution and standing up to pray, prayed and satisfied
herself; and when she had ended her orisons, she left the turband-cloth
in the place of prayer and fared forth. Presently, in came the Draper,
at the hour of night-devotions, and sitting down in the prayer-place
where the old woman had prayed, looked about him and espied the turband.
He knew it and suspected foul play; so wrath showed in his face and he
was furious with his wife and reviled her and abode his day and his
night without speaking to her, during all which while she knew not the
cause of his rage. Then she looked and seeing the turband-cloth before
him and noting the traces of burning thereon, understood that his anger
was on account of this and concluded that he was in ill-temper because
it was burnt. When the morning morrowed, the Draper went out, still
wroth with his wife, and the crone returned to her and found her changed
of colour, pale of complexion, dejected and heart-broken. So she
questioned her of the cause, and the wife told her how her husband was
angered against her on account of the burns in the turband-cloth.[494]
Rejoined the old woman, “O my daughter, be not chagrined; for I have a
son, a fine-drawer, and he, by thy life, shall fine-draw the holes and
restore the turband-cloth as it was.” The wife rejoiced in her saying
and asked her, “And when shall this be?” The crone answered, “To-morrow,
Inshallah—an it please Allah the Most High—I will bring him to thee, at
the time of thy husband’s going forth from thee, and he shall fine-draw
it and depart forthwith.” Then she comforted her heart and going away
from her, returned to the young man and acquainted him with what had
passed. Now when the Draper saw the turband-cloth, he determined to
divorce his wife and waited only till he could collect that which was
obligatory on him of the contingent dowry and what not else,[495] for
fear of her people. When the crone arose in the morning, she took the
young man and carried him into the Draper’s house. The wife opened the
door to her and the ill-omened old woman entered with him and said to
the lady, “Go, fetch that which thou wouldest have fine-drawn and give
it to my son.” So saying, she bolted the door on her, whereupon the
young man raped[496] her against her will and did his want of her and
went forth. Then cried the crone, “Know that this is my son and that he
loved thee with exceeding love and was like to lose his life for longing
after thee; so I devised for thee with this device and came to thee with
this turband-cloth, which is not thy husband’s, but my son’s. Now have I
won to my wish; so do thou trust in me and I will put a sleight on thy
husband for setting thee right with him, and thou wilt be subject to me
and to him and to my son.”[497] And the wife replied, “’Tis well. Do
so.” Presently the old woman returned to the lover and said, “Know thou
that I have engineered the affair for thee with her; and now we must
mend that we have marred. Hie thee and sit with the Draper and mention
to him the turband-cloth, saying, The turband I bought of thee I chanced
to burn in two places; so I gave it to a certain old woman, to have
fine-drawn, and she took it and went away, and I know not her
dwelling-place.[498] When thou seest me pass by, rise and lay hold of
me, and demand of me the cloth, to the intent that I may arrange her
affair with her spouse and that matters go right with thee in her
regard.” Accordingly he repaired to the Draper’s shop and sat down by
him and asked him, “Thou knowest the turband-cloth I bought of thee?”
“Yes.” “Knowest thou what is come of it?” “No.” “After I bought it of
thee, I fumigated myself[499] and it fortuned that the turband-cloth was
burnt in two places; so I gave it to a woman, whose son, they said, was
a fine-drawer, and she took it and fared forth with it; and I know not
her home.” When the Draper heard this, he was startled by the thought
that he had suspected his wife wrongfully, and marvelled at the story of
the turband-cloth, and his mind was made easy anent her. After a short
while, up came the old woman, whereupon the young man sprang to his feet
and seizing her, demanded of her the turband-cloth. Said she, “Know that
I entered one of the houses and wuzu’d and prayed in the
prayer-place;[500] and I forgot the turband-cloth there and went out.
Now I weet not the house in which I prayed, nor have I been divinely
directed[501] thereto, and I go round about every day till the night, so
haply I may light on the dwelling, for I know not its owner.” When the
Draper heard these words, he said to the old woman, “Verily, Allah
restoreth to thee what thing thou hast lost. Be gladdened by good news,
for the turband-cloth is with me and in my house.”[502] And he arose
forthright and handed to her the turband-cloth, as it was, and she
handed it to the young man. Then the Draper made peace with his wife and
gave her raiment and jewellery, till she was content and her heart was
appeased. When the king heard his Chamberlain’s story, he was dazed and
amazed and said to him, “Abide on thy service and ear thy field for that
the lion entered it, but marred it not, and he will never more return
thither.”[503] Then he bestowed on him an honourable robe and made him a
costly present; and the man returned to his wife and people, rejoicing,
his heart having been set at rest concerning his wife. “Nor” (continued
the Wazir), “O King of the age, is this rarer or stranger than the story
of the beautiful wife, a woman gifted of amorous grace, with the ugly
Man, her husband.” When king Shah Bakht heard the Minister’s speech, he
deemed it delectable and it pleased him; so he bade him hie to his
house, and there he tarried his day long.
The Twenty-fifth Night of the Month.
When the evening evened, the King summoned his Wazir and bade him tell
the tale. So he said, “’Tis well. Hear, O King,
_THE TALE OF THE UGLY MAN AND HIS BEAUTIFUL WIFE_.”
There was once a man of the Arabs who had a number of children, and
amongst them a boy, never was seen a fairer than he of favour nor a more
complete in comeliness; no, nor a more perfect of prudence. When he came
to man’s estate, his father married him to his first cousin, the
daughter of one of his paternal uncles, and she excelled not in beauty,
neither was she laudable for qualities; wherefore she pleased not the
youth, but he bore with her for the sake of kinship. One day, he fared
forth in quest of certain camels[504] of his which had strayed and hied
him on all his day and night till eventide, when he was fain to seek
hospitality in an Arab camp. So he alighted at one of the tents of the
tribesmen and there came forth to him a man short of stature and foul of
favour, who saluted him with the salam; and, lodging him in a corner of
the tent, sat entertaining him with chat, the cheeriest that might be.
When his food was dressed, the Arab’s wife brought it to the guest, and
he looked at the mistress of the tent and saw a semblance than which no
seemlier might be. Indeed, her beauty and loveliness, her symmetry and
perfect grace amazed him and he was struck with astonishment, gazing now
at her and then at her mate. When his looking grew long, the man said to
him, “Ho, thou son of the worthy! Busy thyself with thine own business,
for by me and this woman hangeth a wondrous tale, which is even better
than that thou seest of her beauty; and I will tell it to thee when we
have made a finish of our food.” So, when they had ended eating and
drinking, the young man asked his host for the story, and he said:—Know
that in my youth I was the same as thou seest me in the matter of
loathliness and foul favour; and I had brethren of the fairest of the
folk; wherefore my father preferred them over me and used to show them
kindness, to my exclusion, and made me serve in their stead, like as a
master employeth slaves. One day, a dromedary of his strayed from the
herd of camels, and he said to me, “Go thou forth in quest of her and
return not but with her.” I replied, “Send other than I of thy sons.”
But he would not consent to this and scolded me and insisted upon me,
till the matter came to such a pass with him that he took a thong-whip
and fell to beating me. So I arose and saddling a riding-camel, mounted
her and sallied forth at random, purposing to go out into the wolds and
the wilds and return to him never more. I fared on all my night and the
next day and coming at eventide[505] to the encampment of this my wife’s
people, alighted down with and became the guest of her father, who was a
Shaykh well stricken in years. Now when it was the noon of night, I
arose and went forth the tent at a call of nature, and none knew of my
case save this woman. The dogs followed me as a suspected stranger and
ceased not worrying me[506] till I fell on my back into a pit, wherein
was water, a deep hollow and a steep; and a dog of those dogs fell in
with me. The woman, who was then a girl in the bloom of youth, full of
strength and spirit, was moved to ruth on me, for the calamity whereinto
I was fallen, and coming to me with a rope, said to me, “Catch hold of
the rope.” So I hent it and clung to it and she haled me up; but, when I
was half-way up, I pulled her down and she fell with me into the pit;
and there we abode three days, she and I and the hound. When her people
arose in the morning and did not see her, they sought her in the camp,
but, finding her not and missing me also, never doubted but she had fled
with me.[507] Now she had four brothers, as they were Saker-hawks, and
they took horse and dispersed in search of us. When the day yellowed on
the fourth dawn, the dog began to bark and the other hounds answered him
and coming to the mouth of the pit, stood howling to him. The Shaykh, my
wife’s father, hearing the howling of the hounds, came up and standing
at the brink of the hollow, looked in and beheld a marvel. Now he was a
brave man and a sensible, an elder experienced in affairs, so he fetched
a cord and bringing forth the three, questioned us twain of our case. I
told him all that had betided and he fell a-pondering the affair.
Presently, her brothers returned, whereupon the old man acquainted them
with the whole case and said to them, “O my sons, know that your sister
intended not aught but good, and if ye kill this man, ye will earn
abiding shame and ye will wrong him, and wrong your own souls and eke
your sister: for indeed there appeareth no cause such as calleth for
killing, and it may not be denied that this accident is a thing whose
like may well occur and that he may easily have been the victim of
suchlike chance.” Then he addressed me and questioned me of my lineage;
so I set forth to him my genealogy and he, exclaiming, “A man of her
match, honourable, understanding, offered me his daughter in wedlock. I
consented to this and marrying her, took up my abode with him and Allah
hath opened on me the gates of weal and wealth, so that I am become the
richest in monies of the tribesmen; and the Almighty hath stablished me
in that which He hath given me of His bounties.” The young man marvelled
at his tale and lay the night with him; and when he arose in the
morning, he found his estrays. So he took them and returning to his
folk, acquainted them with what he had seen and all that had befallen
him. “Nor” (continued the Wazir) “is this stranger or rarer than the
story of the King who lost kingdom and wealth and wife and children and
Allah restored them to him and requited him with a realm more
magnificent than that which he had forfeited and better and finer and
greater of wealth and degree.” The Minister’s story pleased the King and
he bade him depart to his abode.
The Twenty-sixth Night of the Month.
When came the night, the king summoned his Wazir and bade him tell the
story of the King who lost kingdom and wife and wealth. He replied,
“Hearing and obeying! Give ear, O sovran, to
_THE TALE OF THE KING WHO LOST KINGDOM AND WIFE AND WEALTH AND ALLAH
RESTORED THEM TO HIM_.”[508]
There was once a king of the kings of Hind, who was a model of morals,
praiseworthy in policy, lief of justice to his lieges, lavish to men of
learning and piety and abstinence and devoutness and worship and
shunning mischief-makers and froward folk, fools and traitors. After
such goodly fashion he abode in his kingship what Allah the Most High
willed of watches and days and twelvemonths,[509] and he married the
daughter of his father’s brother, a beautiful woman and a winsome,
endowed with brightness and perfection, who had been reared in the
king’s house in delicacy and delight. She bare him two sons, the most
beauteous that might be of boys, when came Destiny from whose decree is
no deliverance and Allah the Most High raised up against the King
another king, who came forth upon his realm, and was joined by all the
folk of the city that had a mind to lewdness and frowardness. So he
strengthened himself by means of them against the King and compassed his
kingdom, routing his troops and killing his guards. The King took his
wife, the mother of his sons, and what he might of monies and saved his
life and fled in the darkness of the night, unknowing whither he should
wend. Whenas wayfare grew sore upon them, there met them highwaymen on
the way, who took all that was with them, so that naught remained to
each of them save a shirt and trousers; the robbers left them without
even provaunt or camels or other riding-cattle, and they ceased not to
fare on afoot, till they came to a copse, which was an orchard of trees
on the ocean shore.[510] Now the road which they would have followed was
crossed by a sea-arm, but it was shallow and scant of water; wherefore,
when they reached that place, the king took up one of his children and
fording the water with him, set him down on the further bank and
returned for his other son, whom also he seated by his brother. Lastly,
returning for their mother, he took her up and passing the water with
her, came to the place where he had left his children, but found them
not. Thereupon he looked at the midst of the island and saw an old man
and an old woman, engaged in making themselves a reed-hut: so he set
down his wife over against them and started off in quest of his
children, but none gave him news of them and he went round about right
and left, yet found not the whereabouts they were. On this wise fared it
with him; but as to the children, they had entered the copse to make
water, and they found there a forest of trees, wherein, if a sturdy
horseman[511] strayed, he might wander by the week, and never know its
first from its last. So the boys pushed into it and wotted not how they
should return and went astray in that wood, for a purpose willed of
Allah Almighty, whilst their father sought them, but found them not. So
he returned to their mother and they abode weeping for their children;
as for whom, when they entered the forest, it swallowed them up and they
fared at hap-hazard, wandering in it many days, knowing not whence they
came or whither they went, till they issued forth, at another side, upon
the open country. Meanwhile, their parents, the king and queen, tarried
in the island, over against the old man and his old woman, and ate of
the fruits and drank of the rills that were in it till, one day of the
days, as they sat, behold, up came a ship and made fast to the
island-side, for provisioning with water, whereupon they[512] looked one
at other and spoke. The master of the craft was a Magian man and all
that was therein, both crew and goods, belonged to him, for he was a
trader and went round about the world. Now greed of gain deluded the old
man, the owner of the island, and he fared to the ship and gave the
Guebre news of the King’s wife, setting out to him her charms, till he
made him long for her and his soul moved[513] him to practise treachery
and cozenage upon her and take her from her husband. Accordingly, he
sent to her, saying, “Aboard with us is a woman with child, and we dread
lest she be delivered this night: hast thou aught of skill in
midwifery?” She replied, “Yes.” Now it was the last of the day; so he
sent to her to come up into the ship and deliver the woman, for that the
labour-pangs were come upon her; and he promised her clothes and
spending-money. Hereat, she embarked confidently, with heart at ease for
herself, and transported her gear to the ship; but no sooner had she
come thither than the sails were hoisted and the canvas was loosed[514]
and the ship set sail. When the King saw this, he cried out and his wife
wept in the ship and would have cast herself into the waves; but the
Magian bade his men lay hands on her. So they seized her and it was but
a little while ere the night darkened and the ship vanished from the
King’s eyes; whereupon he fainted away for excess of weeping and
lamentation and passed his night bewailing his wife and his children.
And when the morning morrowed he began improvising these couplets:—[515]
O World, how long, this spite, this enmity?
Say me, dost ever spare what spared can be?
And look! my friends have farèd fain and free!
They went and went wi’ them my dear delight
E’en from the day when friends to part were dight
And turbid made their lost life’s clarity.
By Allah, ne’er I wist their worth aright
Nor ever wot I worth of friends unite
Till fared they, leaving flame in heart of me!
I’ll ne’er forget them since what day each wight
Hied and withdrew fro’ me his well-loved sight
And yet I weep this parting-blow to dree.
I vow an Heaven deign my friends return
And cry the crier in mine ears that yearn
“The far is near, right soon their sight shalt see!”
Upon their site my cheeks I’ll place, to sprite
I’ll say, “Rejoice, thy friends return to thee!”
Nor blame my heart when friends were lief to flee:
I rent my heart ere rent my raimentry.
He sat weeping for the severance of his wife and children till the
morning, when he went forth wandering at a venture, unweeting what he
should do, and ceased not walking along the sea-shore days and nights,
unknowing whither he went and taking no food save the herbs of the earth
and seeing neither man nor wildling nor other living thing, till his
wayfare brought him to a mountain-top. He sojourned in the highland and
abode awhile, there alone, eating of its fruits and drinking of its
founts; then he came down thence and trudged along the high road three
days, when he hit upon tilled fields and villages and gave not over
going till he made a great city on the shore of the salt sea and came to
its gate at the last of the day. The gatekeepers allowed him no
admission; so he spent his night anhungered, and when he arose in the
morning, he sat down hard by the portal. Now the king of the city was
dead and had left no son, and the citizens fell out anent who should be
ruler over them: and their words and redes differed, so that civil war
was like to befal them thereupon. But it came to pass that, after long
jangle, they agreed to leave the choice to the late king’s elephant and
that he unto whom he consented should be king and that they would not
contest with him the sway. So to this they sware and on the morrow, they
brought out their elephant and fared forth to a site within sight of the
city; nor was there man or woman but was present at that moment. Then
they adorned the elephant and raising the throne on his back, gave him
the crown in his trunk; and he went round about examining the
countenances of the folk, but stopped not over against any of them till
he came at last to the forlorn King, the exile who had lost his children
and his wife, when the beast prostrated himself to him and placing the
crown on his head, took him up and set him upon his back. Thereupon the
people all prostrated themselves and gave mutual joy of this and the
drums[516] of good tidings beat before him, and he entered the city and
went on till he reached the House of Justice and the Audience-hall of
the Palace and sat down upon the throne of the kingdom, crown on head;
whereat the lieges entered to congratulate him and to bless him. Then he
addressed himself, as was his wont in the kingship, to forwarding the
affairs of the folk and ranging the troops according to their ranks and
looking into their affairs and those of all the Ryots. He also released
those who were in the dungeons and abolished the custom-dues and gave
honourable robes and lavished great gifts and bestowed largesse and
conferred favours on the Emirs and Wazirs and Lords of the realm, and
the Chamberlains[517] and Nabobs presented themselves before him and did
him homage. So the city people rejoiced in him and said, “Indeed, this
be none other than a King of the greatest of the kings.” And presently
he assembled the sages and the theologians and the sons of the Sovrans
and conversed with them and asked them subtile questions and casuistical
problems and talked over with them things manifold of all fashions that
might direct him to rectitude in the kingship; and he questioned them
also of mysteries and religious obligations and of the laws of the land
and the regulations of rule and of that which it beseemeth the liege
lord to do of looking into the affairs of the lieges and repelling the
foe and fending off his malice with force and fight; so the subjects’
contentment redoubled and their exultation in that which Allah Almighty
had vouchsafed them of his kingship over them. On such wise he upheld
the ordinance of the realm, and the affairs abode stablished upon the
accepted custom and local usage. Now the late king had left a wife and
two daughters, and the people would fain have married the Princess royal
to the new king that the rule might not pass clean away from the old
rulers. Accordingly, they proposed to him that he should wed her or the
other of the deceased king’s daughters, and he promised them this, but
put them off from him, of his respect for the covenant he had made with
his former wife, his cousin, that he would marry none other than
herself. Then he betook himself to fasting by day and praying through
the night, multiplying his almsdeeds and beseeching Allah (extolled and
exalted be He!) to reunite him with his children and his wife, the
daughter of his father’s brother. When a year had elapsed, there came to
the city a ship, wherein were many merchants and much merchandise. Now
it was their custom from time immemorial that the king, whenever a ship
made the port, sent to it such of his pages as he trusted in, who took
agency of the goods, to the end that they might be first shown to the
Sovran, who bought as much of them as befitted him and gave the
merchants leave to sell whatso he wanted not. So he commissioned,
according to his custom, a man who should fare to the ship and seal up
the bales and set over them one who could watch and ward them. Meanwhile
the Queen his wife, when the Magian fled with her and proffered himself
to her and lavished upon her abounding wealth, rejected him and was like
to kill herself[518] for chagrin at that which had befallen and for
concern anent her separation from her husband. She also refused meat and
drink and resolved to cast herself into the sea; but the Magian chained
her and straitened her and clothed her in a coat of wool and said to
her, “I will continue thee in wretchedness and humiliation till thou
obey me and accept me.” So she took patience and looked for the Almighty
to deliver her from the hand of that accursed; and she ceased not
travelling with him from country to country till he came with her in
fine to the city wherein her husband was king and his goods were put
under seal. Now the woman was in a chest and two youths of the late
king’s pages, who were now in the new King’s service, were those who had
been charged with the watch and ward of the craft and her cargaison.
When the evening evened on them, the twain began talking and recounted
that which had befallen them in their days of childhood and the manner
of the faring forth of their father and mother from their country and
kingdom when the wicked overcame their realm, and how they had gone
astray in the forest and how Fate had severed them from their parents;
for short, they told their tale from first to last. When the woman heard
their talk, she knew that they were her sons and cried out to them from
the chest, “I am your mother, Such-an-one, and the token between you
twain and me is thus and thus.” The young men knew the token and falling
upon the chest, brake the lock and brought out their mother, who seeing
them, strained them to her bosom, and they fell upon her and fainted
away, all three. When they came to themselves, they wept awhile and the
people assembled about them, marvelling at that they saw, and questioned
them of their case. So the young Princes vied each with other who should
be the first to discover the story to the folk; and when the Magian saw
this, he came up, crying out, “Alack!” and “Ruin!” and said to them,
“Why and wherefore have ye broken open my chest? Verily, I had in it
jewels and ye have stolen them, and this damsel is my slave-girl and she
hath agreed with you both upon a device to take my wealth.” Then he rent
his raiment and cried for aid, saying, “I appeal to Allah and to the
just King, so he may quit me of these wrongous youths!” They both
replied, “This is our mother and thou stolest her:” whereupon words
waxed manifold between them and the folk plunged into talk with many a
“he said” and “’twas said” concerning their affair and that of the
pretended slave-girl, and the strife increased between them, so that at
last they carried them all four to the King’s court. When the two young
men presented themselves between his hands and stated their case to him
and to the folk and the sovran heard their speech, he knew them and his
heart was like to fly for joy: the tears poured from his eyes at their
sight and the sight of his wife, and he thanked Allah Almighty and
praised Him for that He had deigned reunite them. Then he bade the folk
who were present about him be dismissed and commanded the Magian and the
woman and the two youths be to morrow committed to his armoury[519] for
the night, ordering that they should keep guard over them all until the
Lord should make the morning to morrow, so he might assemble the Kazis
and the Justiciaries and Assessors and determine between them, according
to Holy Law, in the presence of the four judges. So they did this and
the King passed the night praying and praising Allah of All-might for
that which he had vouchsafed him of kingship and power and victory over
the wight who had wronged him and thanking Him who had reunited him with
his own. When the morning morrowed, he assembled the Kazis and Deputies
and Assessors[520] and summoning the Magian and the two youths and their
mother, questioned them of their case; whereupon the two young men began
and said, “We are the sons of King Such-an-one and foemen and lewd
fellows gat the mastery of our realm; so our sire fled forth with us and
wandered at hap-hazard, for fear of the foe.” And they recounted to him
all that had betided them, from beginning to end.[521] Quoth he, “Ye
tell a marvel-tale; but what hath Fate done with your father?” Quoth
they, “We know not how Fortune dealt with him after our loss.” And he
was silent. Then he bespake the woman, “And thou, what sayst thou?” So
she set forth to him her case and all that had betided her and her
husband, from the beginning of their hardships to the end, and recounted
to him their adventures up to the time when they took up their abode
with the old man and woman who dwelt on the sea-shore. Then she reported
that which the Magian had practised on her of fraud and how he had
carried her off in the craft and everything that had betided her of
humiliation and torment; all this while the Kazis and Judges and
Deputies hearkening to her speech as they had lent ear to the others’
adventures. When the King heard the last of his wife’s tale, he said,
“Verily, there hath betided thee a mighty grievous matter; but hast thou
knowledge of what thy husband did and what came of his affair?” She
replied, “Nay, by Allah; I have no knowledge of him, save that I leave
him no hour unremembered in righteous prayer, and never, whilst I live,
will he cease to be to me the father of my children and my cousin and my
flesh and my blood.” Then she wept and the King bowed his head, whilst
his eyes welled tears at her tale. Presently he raised his head to the
Magian and cried to him, “Say thy say, thou also.” So the Magian
replied, “This is my slave-girl, whom I bought with my money from such a
land and for so many dinars, and I made her my betrothed[522] and loved
her exceedingly and gave my monies into her charge; but she falsed me in
my substance and plotted with one of my lads to slay me, tempting him by
a promise that she would kill me and become his wife. When I knew this
of her and was assured that she purposed treason against me, I awoke
from my dream of happiness and did with her that which I did, fearing
for my life from her craft and perfidy; for indeed she is a trickstress
with her tongue and she hath taught these two youths this pretence, by
way of sleight and of her guile and her malice: so be you not deluded by
her and by her talk.” “Thou liest, O accursed,” cried the King and bade
lay hands on him and iron him. Then he turned to the two youths, his
sons, and strained them to his breast, weeping sore and saying, “O all
ye people who are present of Kazis and Assessors and Lords of the land,
know that these twain are my sons and that this is my wife and the
daughter of my father’s brother; for that whilome I was king in such a
realm.” And he recounted to them his history from commencement to
conclusion, nor is there aught of fruition in repetition; whereupon the
folk cried out with weeping and wailing for the stress of what they
heard of marvellous chances and that wondrous story. As for the king’s
wife, he bade carry her into his palace and lavished upon her and upon
her sons all that befitted and beseemed them of bounties, whilst the
lieges flocked to offer up prayers for him and give him joy of his
reunion with his wife and children. When they had made an end of
blessings and congratulations, they besought the king to hasten the
punishment of the Magian and heal their hearts with tormenting and
abasing him. So he appointed them for a day on which they should
assemble to witness his requitement and that which should betide him of
torment, and shut himself up with his wife and two sons and abode thus
private with them three days, during which they were veiled from the
folk. On the fourth day the King entered the Hammam, and faring forth,
sat down on the throne of his kingship, crown on head, whereupon the
folk came in to him, according to their custom and after the measure of
their several dignities and degrees, and the Emirs and Wazirs entered,
and eke the Chamberlains and Nabobs and Captains of war and the
Falconers and Armbearers and Commanders of the body-guard. Then he
seated his two sons, one on his right and the other on his left hand,
whilst the subjects all stood before him and lifted up their voices in
thanksgiving to Allah the Most High and glorification of Him and were
instant in orisons for the king and in setting forth his virtues and
excellent qualities. He answered them with the most gracious of answers
and bade carry the Magian outside the city and set him on a high
scaffold which had been builded for him there; and he said to the folk,
“Behold, I will torture him with torments of all kinds and fashions.”
Then he began telling them that which he had wrought of villainy with
his cousin-wife and what he had caused her of severance between her and
her husband and how he had required her of her person, but she had
sought refuge for her chastity against him with Allah (to whom belong
honour and glory) and chose abasement rather than obedience to him,
despite stress of torture: neither recked she aught of that which he
lavished to her of monies and raiment, jewels and ornaments. When the
King had made an end of his story, he bade the bystanders spit in the
Magian’s face and curse him; and they did this. Then he bade cut out his
tongue and on the next day he bade lop off his ears and nose and pluck
out both his eyes. On the third day he bade hew off his hands and on the
fourth his feet; and they ceased not to dismember him, limb after limb,
and each member they cast into the fire, after its amputation, before
his face, till his soul departed, after he had endured torments of all
kinds and fashions. Then the King bade crucify his trunk on the city
wall for three days; after which he gave orders to burn it and reduce
its ashes to powder and scatter them abroad in air. And when this was
done, the King summoned the Kazi and the Witnesses and commanded them
marry the old king’s daughter and her sister to his own sons; so the
youths wedded them, after the King had made a bride-feast three days and
displayed their brides to them from nightfall to day-dawn. Then the two
Princes went in unto their brides and abated their maidenheads and loved
them and were vouchsafed issue by them. As for the King their sire, he
abode with his cousin-wife, their mother, what while Allah (to whom be
honour and glory) willed, and they rejoiced in reunion each with other.
The kingship endured unto them and high degree and victory, and the
sovran continued to rule with justice and equity, so that the lieges
loved him and prayed for him and for his sons length of life and durance
of days; and they lived the most delightsome of existences till there
came to them the Destroyer of delights and Severer of societies, the
Depopulator of palaces and Garnerer of graves; and this is all that hath
come down to us of the story of the King and his Wife and Sons. “Nor,”
continued the Wazir, “if this story be a solace and a diversion, is it
pleasanter or more diverting than the tale of the Youth of Khorasan and
his mother and sister.” When King Shah Bakht heard this story, it
pleased him and he bade the Minister hie away to his own house.
The Twenty-Seventh Night of the Month.
When evening came, the king Shah Bakht bade fetch the Wazir; so he
presented himself before him and the King ordered him to tell the tale.
So he said, “Hearkening and obedience. Give ear, O sovran, to
_THE TALE OF SALIM, THE YOUTH OF KHORASAN AND SALMA, HIS SISTER_.”
Know, O king (but Allah alone knoweth His secret purpose and is versed
in the past and the foredone among folk bygone) that there was once, in
the parts of Khorasan, a man of its affluent, who was a merchant of the
chiefest of the merchants[523] and was blessed with two children, a son
and a daughter.[524] He was diligent exceedingly in rearing them and
they were educated with the fairest of education; for he used to teach
the boy, who taught his sister all that he learnt, so that, by means of
her brother, the damsel became perfect in the knowledge of the
Traditions of the Prophet and in polite letters. Now the boy’s name was
Salím and that of the girl Salmá. When they grew up and were fully
grown, their father built them a mansion beside his own and lodged them
apart therein and appointed them slave-girls and servants to tend them
and assigned to each of them pay and allowances and all that they needed
of high and low; meat and bread; wine, dresses, and vessels and what not
else. So Salim and Salma abode in that palace, as they were one soul in
two bodies, and they used to sleep on one couch and rise amorn with
single purpose, while firmly fixed in each one’s heart were fond
affection and familiar friendship for the other. One night, when the
half was spent, as Salim and Salma sat recounting and conversing, they
heard a noise on the ground floor; so they looked out from a latticed
casement which gave upon the gate of their father’s mansion and saw a
man of fine presence, whose clothes were hidden under a wide cloak. He
came straight up to the gate and laying hold of the door-ring, rapped a
light rap; whereupon the door opened and behold, out came their sister,
with a lighted taper, and after her their mother, who saluted the
stranger and embraced him, saying, “O dearling of my heart and light of
mine eyes and fruit of my vitals, enter.” So he went in and shut the
door, whilst Salim and Salma abode amazed. The youth turned to the girl
and said to her, “O sister mine, how deemest thou of this trouble and
what advice hast thou to offer?” She replied, “O my brother, indeed I
know not what I shall say anent the like of this; but he is not
disappointed who divine direction seeketh, nor doth he repent who
counsel taketh. One getteth not the better of the traces of burning by
haste, and know that this is an affliction that hath descended[525] on
us and a calamity foreordained to us; so we have need of wise rede to do
it away and contrivance which shall wash our shame from our faces.” And
they ceased not watching the gate till daybreak, when the young man
opened the door and their mother farewelled him; after which he went his
way and she entered, she and her hand-maid. Hereat said Salim to his
sister, “Know thou I am resolved to slay this man, an he return the next
night, and I will say to the folk, He was a robber, and none shall weet
that which hath befallen. Then I will address myself to the slaughter of
whosoever knoweth what is between the fellow and my mother.” But Salma
said, “I fear lest an thou slay him in our dwelling-place and he be not
convicted of robber-hood, suspicion and ill-fame will revert upon
ourselves, and we cannot be assured that he belongeth not to a tribe
whose mischief is to be feared and whose enmity is to be dreaded, and
thus wilt thou have fled from hidden shame to open shame and to disgrace
public and abiding.” Asked Salim: “What then is it thy rede to do?” And
she answered, “Is there no help but thou kill him? Let us not hasten
unto slaughter, for that the slaughter of a soul without just cause is a
mighty grave matter.” When Shahbán[526] heard this, he said within
himself, “By Allah, I have indeed been hasty and reckless in the slaying
of women and girls, and Alhamdolillah—lauded be the Lord—who hath
occupied me with this damsel from the slaughter of souls, for that the
slaughter of souls is a grave matter and a grievous! By the Almighty if
Shah Bakht spare the Wazir, I will assuredly spare Sháhrázád!”[527] Then
he gave ear to the story and heard her say to her sister:—Quoth Salma to
Salim, “Hasten not to slay him, but overthink the matter and consider
the issue whereto it may tend; for whoso considereth not of actions the
end hath not Fortune to friend.” Then they arose on the morrow and
busied themselves with contriving how they should turn away their parent
from that man, and the mother forefelt mischief from them, for what she
saw in their eyes of change, she being wily and keen of wit. So she took
precaution for herself against her children and Salma said to Salim,
“Thou seest what we have fallen upon through this woman, and very sooth
she hath sensed our purpose and wotteth that we have discovered her
secret. So, doubtless, she will plot against us the like of that which
we plot for her; for indeed up to now she had concealed her affair, and
from this time forth she will become harsh to us; wherefore, methinks,
there is a thing forewritten to us, whereof Allah (extolled and exalted
be He!) knew in His foreknowledge and wherein He carrieth out His
commandments.” He asked, “What is that?” and she answered, “It is that
we arise, I and thou, and go forth this night from this land and seek us
a town wherein we may wone and witness naught of the doings of yonder
traitress; for whoso is absent from the eye is absent from the heart,
and quoth one of the poets in the following couplet:[528]—
’Tis happiest, best for thee, the place to leave, ✿ For then no eye can
see, nor heart can grieve.”
Quoth Salim to her,[529] “Tis for thee to decide and right is thy rede;
so let us do this, in the name of Allah the Almighty, trusting in Him
for guiding and grace.” Accordingly they arose and took the richest of
their raiment and the lightest of that which was in their treasuries of
gems and things of price and gathered together much matter. Then they
equipped them ten mules and hired them servants of other than the people
of the country; and Salim bade his sister Salma don man’s dress. Now she
was the likest of all creatures to him, so that, when she was clad in
man’s clothing, the folk knew no difference between them:—extolled be
the perfection of Him who hath no like, there is no god but He! Then he
told her to mount a mare, whilst he himself took another, and they set
out under cover of the night; nor did any of their family or household
know of them. So they fared on into Allah’s wide world and gave not over
going night and day for a space of two months, at the end of which they
came to a city on the sea-shore of the land of Makran,[530] by name
Al-Sharr, and it is the first city in Sind.[531] They lighted down
within sight of the place and when they arose in the morning, they saw a
populous city and a goodly, seemly of semblance and great, abounding in
trees and rills and fruits and wide of suburbs which stretched to the
neighbouring villages. So the young man said to his sister Salma, “Tarry
thou here in thy place, till I enter the city and make proof of it and
its people and seek us out a stead which we may buy and whereto we may
remove. An it befit us, we will make us a home therein, otherwise will
we take counsel of departing elsewhere.” Quoth she, “Do this, trusting
in the bounty of Allah (to whom belong honour and glory) and in His
blessing.” Accordingly he took a belt, wherein were a thousand gold
pieces, and girding it about his waist, entered the city and ceased not
going round about its streets and bazars and gazing upon its houses and
sitting with those of its citizens whose aspect showed signs of worth
and wealth, till the day was half spent, when he resolved to return to
his sister and said to himself, “Needs must I buy what we may eat of
ready-cooked food; I and my sister.” Hereupon he addressed a man who
sold roast meat and who was clean of person, albe foul in his way of
getting a living, and said to him, “Take the price of this dishful and
add thereto of fowls and chickens and what not else is in your market of
meats and sweetmeats and bread and arrange it in the plates.” So the
Kitchener took the money and set apart for him what he desired, then
calling a porter, he laid it in the man’s crate, and Salim, after paying
the price of provisions and porterage in fullest fashion, was about to
go away, when the Cook said to him, “O youth, doubtless thou art a
stranger?” He replied, “Yes;” and the other rejoined, “’Tis reported in
one of the Traditions that the Apostle said, Loyal admonition is a part
of religion; and the wise and ware have declared counsel is of the
characteristics of True Believers. And verily that which I have seen of
thy ways pleaseth me and I would fain give thee a warning.” Rejoined
Salim, “Speak out thy warning, and may Allah strengthen thy purpose!”
Then said the Cook, “Know, O my son, that in this our city, when a
stranger entereth and eateth of flesh-meat and drinketh not old wine
upon it, ’tis harmful to him and disturbeth his body with disorders
which be dangerous. Wherefore, an thou have provided thee somewhat of
wine it is well, but, if not, haste to procure it, ere thou take the
meat and carry it away.” Quoth Salim, “Allah requite thee with
weal—Canst thou shew me where liquor is sold?” and quoth the Cook, “With
me is all thou seekest.” The youth asked, “Is there a way for me to see
it?” and the Cook sprang up and answered, “Pass on.” So he entered and
the man showed him somewhat of wine; but he said, “I desire better than
this;” whereupon he opened a door and entering, said to Salim, “Come in,
and follow me.” Accordingly Salim followed him till he brought him to an
underground chamber and showed him somewhat of wine that suited him. So
he occupied him with looking at it and taking him unawares, sprang upon
him from behind and threw him to the ground and sat upon his breast.
Then he drew a knife and set it to his jugular; whereupon there betided
Salim that wherewith Allah made him forget all that He had decreed to
him,[532] and he cried to the Cook, “Why dost thou this thing, O good
fellow? Be mindful of the Almighty and fear Him. Seest thou not I am a
stranger man? And knowest thou not I have behind me a forlorn
defenceless[533] woman. Wherefore wilt thou kill me?” Quoth the
Kitchener, “Needs must I kill thee, so I may take thy money;” and quoth
Salim, “Take my money, but kill me not, neither enter into sin against
me; and do with me kindness, for indeed the taking of my coin is more
venial than the taking of my life.” The Cook replied, “This is nonsense.
Thou canst not deliver thyself herewith, O youth, because in thy
deliverance is my destruction.” Cried Salim, “I swear to thee and give
thee the bond of Allah (to whom belong honour and glory) and His
covenant, which He took of His prophets that I will not discover thy
secret; no, never.” But the Kitchener replied, “Away! Away! Alas! Alas!
To this there is no path.” However, Salim ceased not to conjure him and
humble himself to him and weep, while the Cook persisted in his intent
to cut his throat: then he shed tears and recited these couplets[534]:—
Haste not to that thou dost desire, for haste is still unblest; Be
merciful to men, as thou on mercy reckonest:
For no hand is there but the hand of God is over it And no oppressor but
shall be with worse than he opprest.
Quoth the Kitchener, “There is no help save that I slay thee, O fellow;
for an I spare thee, I shall myself be slain.” But Salim said, “O my
brother, I will advise thee somewhat[535] other than this.” Asked the
Cook, “What is it? Say and be brief, ere I cut thy throat;” and Salim
answered, “Suffer me to live and keep me as thy Mameluke, thy white
slave, and I will work at a craft of the skilled workmen, wherefrom
there shall result to thee every day two dinars.” Quoth the Kitchener,
“What is the craft?” and quoth Salim, “The cutting of gems and jewels.”
When the man heard this, he said to himself, “’Twill do me no hurt if I
imprison him and fetter him and bring him that whereat he may work. An
he tell truth, I will let him live, and if he prove a liar, I will kill
him.” So he took a pair of stout shackles and fitting them on Salim’s
legs, jailed him within his house and charged a man to guard him. Then
he asked him what tools he needed for work; and Salim described to him
whatso he required, and the Cook went out from him awhile and brought
him all he wanted. Then Salim sat and wrought at his craft; and he used
every day to earn two dinars; and this was his wont and custom with the
Kitchener, who fed him not but half his fill. Thus befel it with Salim;
but returning to his sister Salma, she awaited him till the last of the
day, yet he appeared not; and she expected him a second day and a third
and a fourth, yet there came no news of him. So she wept and beat hand
on breast and bethought her of her affair and her strangerhood and the
disappearance of her brother; and she improvised these couplets:—
Salam t’you! Would I could see you again, ✿ To the joy of my heart and
the coolth of my eyes:
You are naught but my hope and the whole of my hope ✿ And under my
ribs[536] love for you buried lies.
She tarried on this wise awaiting him till the end of the month, but no
tidings of him came nor happened she upon aught of his trace; wherefore
she was troubled with exceeding trouble and sending her servants hither
and thither in search of him, abode in the sorest that might be of
chagrin and concern. When it was the beginning of the new month, she
arose in the morning and bidding one of her men cry her brother
throughout the city, sat to receive visits of condolence, nor was there
any in town but made act of presence to condole with her; and they were
all sorry for her, doubting not her being a man. When three nights had
passed over her with their days of the second month, she despaired of
him and her tears never dried: then she resolved to take up her abode in
that city and making choice of a dwelling, removed thither. The folk
resorted to her from all parts, to sit with her and hear her speech and
witness her fine breeding; nor was it but a little while ere the king
died and the folk differed anent whom they should invest with the
kingship after him, so that civil war was like to befal them. However,
the men of judgment and the folk of understanding and the people of
experience directed them to crown the youth who had lost his brother,
for that they still held Salma to be a man. They consented to this one
and all; and, betaking themselves to her, offered the kingship.[537] She
refused, but they were urgent with her, till she consented, saying
within herself, “My sole desire in the kingship is to find my brother.”
Then they seated her upon the throne of the realm and set the crown upon
her head, after which she undertook the business of governance and
ordinance of affairs; and they rejoiced in her with the utmost joy. On
such wise fared it with her; but as for Salim he abode with the Cook a
whole year’s space, bringing him two dinars a day; and when his affair
waxed longsome, the man felt for him and pitied him. Presently he
promised him release on condition that, if he let him go, he should not
discover his ill-deeds to the Sultan; for that it was his wont now and
then to entrap a man and carry him to his house and slay him and take
his money and cook his flesh and give it to the folk to eat.[538] So he
asked him, “O youth, wilt thou that I release thee from this thy misery,
on condition that thou be reasonable and never discover aught of thine
affair?” Salim answered, “I will swear to thee by whatsoever oath thou
wilt administer that I will keep thy secret and will not speak one
syllable anent thee, what while I am in the land of the living.” Quoth
the Kitchener, “I purpose to send thee forth with my brother and cause
thee voyage with him over the sea, on condition that thou be to him a
Mameluke, a boughten slave; and when he cometh to the land of Hind, he
shall sell thee and thus wilt thou be delivered from prison and
slaughter.” And quoth Salim, “’Tis well: be it as thou sayst, may Allah
the Most High requite thee with weal!” Accordingly the Cook equipped his
brother and freighting him a craft, stowed therein a cargaison of
merchandise. Then he committed Salim to him and they set out with the
ship. The Lord decreed them safety, so that they arrived at the first
city of Hind, which is known as Al-Mansúrah,[539] and cast anchor there.
Now the king of that city had died, leaving a daughter and a widow who,
being the quickest-witted of women and cleverest of the folk of her day,
gave out that the girl was a boy, so that the kingship might be
established unto them. The troops and the Emirs gave credit that the
case was as she avouched and that the Princess was a Prince; wherefore
they obeyed her bidding and the Queen-mother took order for the matter
and used to dress the girl in man’s habit and seat her on the throne of
the kingship, so that the Lords of the land and the chief officers of
the realm used to go in to her and salute her and do her service and
depart, nothing doubting but she was a boy. After this fashion they
fared for months and years and the Queen-mother ceased not to do thus
till the Cook’s brother came to the town in his ship, and with him
Salim. He landed with the youth and displayed him for sale to the Queen
who, when she saw him, prognosticated well of him; presently she bought
him and was kind to him and entreated him with honour. Then began she to
prove him in his moral parts and make assay of him in his affairs, and
she found in him all that is in kings’ sons of understanding and fine
breeding and good manners and qualities. Thereupon she sent for him in
private and said to him, “I am minded to do thee a service, so thou
canst keep a secret.”[540] He promised her all that she desired and she
discovered to him her mystery in the matter of her daughter, saying, “I
will marry thee to her and commit to thee the governance and constitute
thee king and ruler over this city.” He thanked her and promised to
carry out all she should order him, and she said to him, “Go forth to
such-an-one of the neighbouring provinces privily.” So he went forth and
on the morrow she made ready loads and gear and gifts and bestowed on
him abundant substance, all of which they loaded on the backs of
baggage-camels. Then she gave out among the folk that the nephew of the
king, the son of his brother, was come and bade the Grandees and troops
go forth to meet him in a body: she also decorated the city in his
honour and the kettle-drums of good tidings beat for him whilst all the
king’s household went out and dismounting before him, escorted him into,
and lodged him with the queen-mother in the palace. Then she bade the
Headmen of the state attend his assembly; so they obeyed and witnessed
of his breeding and good parts that which amazed them and made them
forget the breeding of the kings who had preceded him. When they were
grown to like him, the Queen-mother began sending privily for the Emirs
and Councillors, one by one, and swearing them to conceal her project;
and when she was assured of their discretion, she discovered to them
that the king had left naught save a daughter and that she had done this
only that she might continue the kingship in his family and that the
rule should not go forth from them; after which she informed them that
she was minded to marry her daughter with her nephew, the new-comer; and
that he should be the holder of the kingship. They approved her proposal
and when she had discovered the secret to the last of them and assured
herself of their aid, she published the news abroad and threw off all
concealment. Then she sent for the Kazis and Assessors, who drew up the
contract of marriage between Salim and the Princess, and they lavished
gifts upon the soldiery and overwhelmed them with largesse. The bride
was incontinently carried in procession to the young man and the
kingship was established to him. They tarried after this fashion a whole
year when Salim said to the Queen-mother, “Know that my life is not
pleasing to me nor can I abide with you in content till I get me tidings
of my sister and learn how her affair hath ended and how she hath fared
after me. So I will go forth and be absent from you a year’s space; then
will I return to you, Inshallah—an it please God the Most High—and I win
of this that which I hope.” Quoth she, “I will not trust to thy word,
but will go with thee and help thee to whatso thou wishest and further
thee myself therein.” Then she took a ship and loaded it with all manner
things of price, goods and monies and the like. Furthermore, she
appointed one of the Wazirs, a man in whom she trusted for his conduct
and contrivance, to rule the realm, saying to him, “Abide in governance
a full year and ordain all thou needest.” Presently the Queen-mother and
her daughter and son-in-law Salim went down to the ship and sailed on
till they made the land of Makran. Their arrival there befel at the last
of the day; so they nighted in their ship, and when the morn was near to
dawn, the young king landed, that he might go to the Hammam, and walked
market-wards. As he drew near the bath, the Cook met him on the way and
knew him; so he seized him and pinioning him straightly, carried him to
his house, where he clapped the old fetters on his feet and cast him
back into his former place of durance vile.[541] Salim, finding himself
in that sorry condition and considering that wherewith he was afflicted
of tribulation and the reverses of his fair fortune, in that he had been
a king and was now returned to fetters and prison and hunger, wept and
groaned and lamented and improvised these couplets:—
My God, no patience now can aid afford; ✿ Strait is my breast, O Thou of
Lords the Lord:
My God, who in resource like thine hath force? ✿ And Thou, the Subtle,
dost my case record.
On this wise fared it with Salim; but as regards his wife and her
mother, when she awoke in the morning and her husband returned not to
her with break of dawn, she forbode all manner of calamity and,
straightway arising, she despatched her servants and all who were with
her in quest of her spouse; but they happened not on any trace of him
nor could they hear aught of his news. So she bethought herself
concerning the case and plained and wept and groaned and sighed and
blamed Fortune the fickle, bewailing the changes of Time and reciting
these couplets[542]:—
God keep the days of love-delight! How passing sweet they were! How
joyous and how solaceful was life in them whilere!
Would he were not, who sundered us upon the parting-day! How many a body
hath he slain, how many a bone laid bare!
Sans fault of mine, my blood and tears he shed and beggared me Of him I
love yet for himself gained nought thereby whate’er.
When she had made an end of her verses, she considered her affair and
said within herself, “By Allah, all these things have betided by the
predestination of Almighty Allah and His decree and this upon the
forehead was written in lines.” Then she landed and walked on till she
came to a spacious place, and an open, where she asked of the folk and
hired a house. Thither she transported forthright all that was in the
ship of goods and sending after brokers, sold all that was with her.
Presently she took part of the price and began enquiring of the folk, so
haply she might scent out tidings of the lost one; and she addressed
herself to lavishing alms and preparing medicines for the sick, clothing
the naked and watering the dry ground[543] of the forlorn. She ceased
not so doing a whole year, and little by little she sold off her goods
and gave charitable gifts to the sick and sorry; whereby her report was
bruited abroad in the city and the folk abounded in her praise. All this
while Salim lay in fetters and strait prison, and melancholy gat hold of
him by reason of that whereinto he had fallen of this affliction. At
last, when care waxed on him and calamity grew longsome, he fell sick of
a sore sickness. Then the Kitchener, seeing his plight (and verily he
was like to sink for much suffering), loosed him from the fetters and
bringing him forth of the prison, committed him to an old woman, who had
a nose the bigness of a gugglet,[544] and bade her nurse him and
medicine him and serve him and entreat him kindly, so haply he might be
made whole of that his sickness. Accordingly the old woman took him and
carrying him to her lodging, began nursing him and giving him to eat and
drink; and when he was delivered of that torment, he recovered from the
malady which had afflicted him. Now the old woman had heard from the
folk of the lady who gave alms to the sick, and indeed the news of her
bounties reached both poor and rich; so she arose and bringing out Salim
to the door of her house, laid him upon a mat and wrapped him in an
Abá-gown and sat over against him. Presently, it befel that the lady
passed by them, and the old woman seeing her rose to her and blessed
her, saying, “O my daughter, O thou to whom belong goodness and
beneficence and charity and almsdoing,[545] know that this young man is
a foreigner, and indeed lack and lice and hunger and nakedness and cold
slay him.” When the lady heard this, she gave her alms and presented her
with a part of that which was with her; and indeed her charitable heart
inclined to Salim, but she knew him not for her spouse. The old woman
received the alms from her and carrying it to Salim, took part for
herself and with the rest bought him an old shirt,[546] in which she
clad him, after she had stripped him of that he had on. Then she threw
away the frock she had taken from off him and arising forthwith, washed
his body of that which was thereon of grime and scented him with
somewhat of scent. She also bought him chickens and made him broth; so
he ate and his life returned to him and he abode with her in all comfort
of condition till the morrow. Next morning the old woman said to Salim,
“When the lady cometh to thee, arise and buss her hand and say to her:—I
am a homeless man and indeed cold and hunger kill me; so haply she may
give thee somewhat that thou mayest expend upon thy case.” And he
answered, “To hear is to obey.” Then she took him by the hand and
carrying him without her house, seated him at the door; and as he sat,
behold, the lady came up to him, whereupon the old woman rose to her and
Salim kissed her hand and, looking at her the while, blessed her. But
when he saw her, he knew her for his wife; so he shrieked and shed tears
and groaned and plained, at which she came up to him and threw herself
upon him; for indeed she knew him with all knowledge, even as he knew
her. So she hung to him and embraced him and called to her serving men
and attendants and those who were about her; and they took him up and
carried him forth of that stead. When the old woman saw this, she cried
out to the Cook within the house, and he said to her, “Fare thou before
me.” So she forewent him and he ran after her and ceased not running
till he overtook the party and seizing Salim, exclaimed, “What aileth
you to take my slave-lad?” Whereupon the Queen cried out at him, saying,
“Know that this is my husband, whom I had lost;” and Salim also cried
out, saying, “Mercy! Mercy! I appeal to Allah and to the Sultan against
this Satan!” Therewith a world of folk straightway gathered together and
loud rose the cries and the clamours between them; but the most part of
them said, “Carry their case up to the Sultan.” So they referred the
matter to the king, who was none other than Salim’s sister Salma. Then
they repaired to the palace and the dragoman went in to Salma and said
to her, “O king of the age, here is a Hindi woman, who cometh from the
land of Hind, and she hath laid hands on a servant, a young man,
claiming him as her husband, who hath been lost to her these two years,
and she journeyed not hither save for his sake, and in very sooth these
many days she hath done almsdeeds in thy city. And here is a fellow, a
Kitchener, who declareth that the young man is his slave.”[547] When the
Queen heard these words, her vitals quivered and she groaned from a
grieving heart and called to mind her brother and that which had betided
him. Then she bade those around her bring them between her hands, and
when she saw them, she knew her brother and was about to cry aloud; but
her reason restrained her; yet could she not prevent herself rising up
and sitting down.[548] At last, however, she enforced her soul to
patience and said to them, “Let each and every of you acquaint me with
his case.” So Salim came forward and kissing ground before the king,
lauded him and related to him his story from first to last, until the
time of their coming to that city, he and his sister, telling him how he
had entered the place and had fallen into the hands of the Cook and that
which had betided him and whatso he had suffered from him of beating and
collars, of fetters and pinioning, till the man had made him his
brother’s Mameluke, a boughten slave, and how the brother had sold him
in Hind and he had become king by marrying the Princess: and how life
was not lovesome to him till he should foregather with his sister and
now the same Cook had fallen in with him a second time and had pinioned
and fettered him. Brief, he acquainted her with that which had betided
him of sickness and sorrow for the space of a whole year. When he had
made an end of his speech, his wife straightways came forward and told
her story, from incept to termination, how her mother bought him[549]
from the Cook’s partner and the people of the kingdom came under his
rule; nor did she cease telling till she came, in her history, to that
city and acquainted the king with the manner of her meeting her husband.
When she had made an end of her adventure, the Kitchener exclaimed,
“Alack, what befals us from lying rascals. By Allah, O king, this woman
lieth against me, for this youth is my rearling[550] and he was born of
one of my slave-girls. He fled from me and I found him again.” When the
Queen heard the last of the talk, she said to the Cook, “The decree
between you shall not be save in accordance with justice.” Then she
dismissed all those who were present and turning to her brother, said to
him, “Indeed thy truth is stablished with me and the sooth of thy
speech, and praised be Allah who hath brought about reunion between thee
and thy wife! So now begone with her to thy country and cease to seek
thy sister Salma and depart in peace.” But, hearing this, Salim replied,
“By Allah, by the might of the All-knowing King, I will not turn back
from seeking my sister till I die or I find her, Inshallah!” Then he
called his sister to mind and improvised from a heart disappointed,
troubled, afflicted, these couplets:—
O thou who blam’st me for my heart, in anger twitting me, ✿ Hadst tasted
what my heart did taste, thou wouldst be pitying me!
By Allah, O my chider for my sister leave, ah! leave ✿ My heart to moan
its grief and feel the woes befitting me.
Indeed I grew to hold her dear privily, publicly; ✿ And in my bosom
bides a pang at no time quitting me;
And in my vitals burns a flame that ne’er was equalled by ✿ The fire of
hell and blazeth high to Death committing me.
Now when his sister Salma heard what he said, she could no longer
restrain her soul, but threw herself upon him and discovered to him her
case. When he knew her, he threw himself upon her swooning awhile; after
which he came to himself and cried, “Lauded be the Lord, the Bountiful,
the Beneficent!” Then they plained each to other of that they had
suffered from the pangs of parting, whilst Salim’s wife wondered at this
and Salma’s patience and endurance pleased her. So she saluted her with
the Salam, and thanked her for her fair boons, saying, “By Allah, O my
lady, all that we are in of gladness never befel us save by thy
blessing; so praised be Allah who deigned vouchsafe us thy sight!” Then
they tarried all three, Salma, Salim and his wife, in joy and happiness
and delight three days, veiled from the folk; and it was bruited abroad
in the city that the king had found his brother, who was lost for many a
year, and had saved him from the Cook’s house. On the fourth day, all
the troops and the lieges assembled together to see the King and
standing at his gate, craved leave to enter. Salma bade admit them; so
they entered and paid her royal suit and service and gave her joy of her
brother’s safe return. She bade them do homage to Salim, and they
consented and sware fealty to him; after which they kept silence awhile,
so they might hear what the king should command. Then quoth Salma, “Ho,
ye gathering of soldiers and subjects, ye wot that ye forced me
willy-nilly to accept the kingship and besought me thereof and I
consented to your desires anent my being raised to rule over you; and I
did this against my will; for I would have you know that I am a woman
and that I disguised myself and donned man’s dress, so peradventure my
case might be concealed when I lost my brother. But now Allah hath
deigned reunite me with my brother, and it is no longer lawful to me
that I be king and Sultan over the people, and I a woman; because there
is no Sultanate for women, whenas men are present.[551] For this reason,
an it suit you, set my brother on the throne of the kingdom, for this is
he; and I will busy myself with the worship of Allah the Most High and
thanksgiving to Him for my reunion with my brother. Or, an ye prefer it,
take your kingship and make whom ye will ruler and liege lord thereof.”
Upon this the folk all cried out, saying, “We accept him to king over
us;” and they did him suit and service and gave him joy of the kingship.
So the preachers preached the sermon[552] in his name and the
court-poets praised him; and he lavished largesse upon the soldiery and
the suite and overwhelmed them with favours and bounties and was
prodigal to the Ryots of justice and equity, with goodly policy and
polity. When he had effected this much of his affect, he caused bring
forth the Cook and his household to the divan, but spared the old woman
who had nursed him, because she had been the cause of his deliverance.
Then all assembled without the town and he tormented the Cook and those
who were with him with all manner torments, after which he did him to
die by the foulest of deaths[553] and burning him with fire, scattered
his ashes far and wide in the air. After this Salim abode in the
governance, invested with the Sultanate, and ruled the people a whole
year, when he returned to Al-Mansúrah and sojourned there another year.
And he and his wife ceased not to go from city to city and tarry in this
a year and that a year, till he was vouchsafed children and they grew
up, whereupon he appointed him of his sons, who was found fitting, to be
his deputy in one kingdom and he ruled in the other; and he lived, he
and his wife and children, what while Almighty Allah willed.[554] “Nor”
(continued the Wazir), “O King of the age, is this story rarer or
stranger than the King of Hind and his wronged and envied Minister.”
When the King heard this, his mind was occupied,[555] and he bade the
Wazir hie to his own house.
The Twenty-Eighth and Last Night of the Month.
When the evening evened, the King summoned the Minister and bade him
tell the story of the King of Hind and his Wazir. So he said,
“Hearkening and obedience. Give ear, O auspicious King, to
_THE TALE OF THE KING OF HIND AND HIS WAZIR_.”
There was once in the Hind-land a king illustrious of worth, endowed
with understanding and policy, and his name was Shah Bakht. He had a
Minister, a godly man and a sagacious, right prudent in rede,
conformable to him in governance and just in judgment; for which cause
his enviers were many and many were the hypocrites who sought faults in
him and set snares for him, so that they insinuated into King Shah
Bakht’s eyes hatred against him and sowed in his heart despite towards
him; and plot followed plot, and their rancour waxed until the king was
brought to arrest him and lay him in jail and to confiscate his wealth
and degrade him from his degree. When they knew that there was left him
no possession for which the king might lust, they feared lest the sovran
release him, by the influence of the Wazir’s good counsel upon the
king’s heart, and he return to his former case, so should their
machinations be marred and their degrees degraded, for that they knew
that the king would need whatso he had known from that man nor would
forget aught wherewith he was familiar in him. Now it came to pass that
a certain person of perverted belief[556] found a way to the adorning of
falsehood with a semblance of fair-seeming and there proceeded from him
that whereby the hearts of the folk were occupied, and their minds were
corrupted by his lying tales; for that he made use of Indian
quiddities[557] and forged them into proof for the denial of the Maker,
the Creator, extolled be His might and exalted be He and glorified and
magnified above the speech of the deniers. He avouched that it is the
planets which order all worldly affairs and he set down twelve
mansions[558] to twelve Zodiacal signs and made each sign thirty
degrees,[559] after the number of the days of the month, so that in
twelve mansions there are three hundred and sixty, after the number of
the days of the year; and he wrought a work, wherein he lied and was an
infidel and denied the Deity, be He for ever blessed! Then he laid hold
of the king’s heart and the enviers and haters aided him against the
Minister and won the royal favour and corrupted his intent against the
Wazir, so that he got of him that which he got and at last his lord
banished him and thrust him away. By such means the wicked man obtained
that which he sought of the Minister and the case was prolonged till the
affairs of the kingdom became disordered, by dint of ill government, and
the most part of the king’s reign fell off from him and he came nigh
unto ruin. On this wise he was assured of the loyalty of his whilome
sagacious Wazir and the excellence of his ordinance and the rectitude of
his rede. So he sent after him and brought him and the wicked man before
him and summoning to his presence the Lords of his land and the Chiefs
of his chieftainship, gave them leave to talk and dispute and forbade
the wicked man from his perverted belief.[560] Then arose that wise
Minister and skilful and praised Allah Almighty and lauded Him and
glorified Him and hallowed Him and attested His unity and disputed with
the miscreant and overcame him and silenced him; nor did he cease from
him till he compelled him to make confession of repentance from that
which he had misbelieved. Therewith King Shah Bakht rejoiced with
exceeding great joy and cried, “Praise be to the Lord who hath saved me
from this man and hath preserved me from the loss of my kingship and my
prosperity!” So the affair of the Wazir returned to order and
stablishment and the king restored him to his place and raised him to
higher rank. Lastly, he assembled the folk who had striven against him
and destroyed them all, to the last man. “And how like” (continued the
Wazir), “is this story to that of myself and King Shah Bakht, with
regard to that which befel me of the changing of the King and his
crediting others against me; but now is the fairness of my fashion
fulfilled in thine eyes, for that Allah Almighty hath inspired thee with
wisdom and endowed thee with longanimity and patience to hear from me
whatso He allotted to those who forewent us, till He hath shown forth my
innocence and made manifest unto thee the truth. For lo and behold! the
days are now past, wherein it was declared to the king that I should
labour for the loss of my soul,[561] that is within the month; and
lookye, the probation-time is gone by, and past is the season of evil
and it hath ceased by the protection of the King and his good fortune.”
Then he bowed his head and was silent. When King Shah Bakht heard his
Wazir’s speech, he was abashed before him and confounded, and he
marvelled at the gravity of his intellect and his long-suffering. So he
sprang up to him and embraced him and the Minister kissed his feet. Then
the King called for a costly robe of honour and cast it over Al-Rahwan
and honoured him with the highmost honour and showed him especial favour
and restored him to his degree and Wazirate. Furthermore he imprisoned
those who had devised his destruction with lies and leasing and gave him
full leave and license to pass judgment upon the Interpreter who had
expounded to him the dream. So the Wazir abode in the ordering of the
realm until Death came to them; “And this” (added Shahrazad) “is all, O
king of the age, that hath come down to us of King Shah Bakht and his
Wazir.”