In the reign of Caliph Haroun al Raschid there was at Bagdad a porter,
who was a fellow of infinite wit and humor. One morning as he was at
the place where he usually waited for employment, with a great basket
before him, a handsome lady, covered with a great muslin veil,
accosted him, and said with a pleasant air, "Hark you, porter, take
your basket[9] and follow me."
[Footnote 9: Baskets, panniers made of leaves of palm, used in
conveying fruits and bread, while heavier articles are carried in bags
of leather or skin.]
The delighted porter took his basket immediately, set it on his head,
and followed the lady, exclaiming, "Oh, happy day! Oh, day of good
luck!"
In a short time the lady stopped before a gate and knocked: a
Christian, with a venerable long white beard, opened it, and she put
money into his hand without speaking; but the Christian, who knew what
she wanted, went in, and shortly after brought out a large jar of
excellent wine.
"Take this jar," said the lady to the porter, "and put it into the
basket."
This being done, she desired him to follow her, and walked on; the
porter still exclaiming, "Oh, day of happiness! Oh, day of agreeable
surprise and joy!"
The lady stopped at a fruit shop, where she bought some apples,
apricots, peaches, lemons, citrons, oranges, myrtles, sweet basil,
lilies, jassamine, and some other plants. She told the porter to put
all those things into his basket and follow her. Passing by a
butcher's shop, she ordered five and twenty pounds of his finest meat
to be weighed, which was also put into the porter's basket.
At another shop she bought capers, small cucumbers, parsley, and other
herbs; at another, some pistachios, walnuts, hazelnuts, almonds,
kernels of the pine, and other similar fruits; at a third, she
purchased all sorts of almond patties.
The porter, in putting all these things into his basket, said, "My
good lady, you should have told me that you intended buying so many
things, and I would have provided a camel to carry them, for if you
buy ever so little more, I shall not be able to bear it."
The lady laughed at the fellow's pleasant humor, and ordered him still
to follow her.
She then went to a druggist's, where she furnished herself with all
manner of sweet-scented waters, cloves, musk, pepper, ginger, and a
great piece of ambergris, and several other Indian spices; this quite
filled the porter's basket and she ordered him to follow her. They
walked till they came to a magnificent house, whose front was adorned
with fine columns, and had a gate of ivory. There they stopped, and
the lady knocked softly. Another lady soon came to open the gate, and
all three, after passing through a handsome vestibule, crossed a
spacious court, surrounded by an open gallery which communicated with
many magnificent apartments, all on the same floor. At the end of this
court there was a dais richly furnished, with a couch in the middle,
supported by four columns of ebony, enriched with diamonds and pearls
of an extraordinary size, and covered with red satin, relieved by a
bordering of Indian gold. In the middle of the court there was a large
basin lined with white marble, and full of the finest transparent
water, which rushed from the mouth of a lion of gilt bronze.
But what principally attracted the attention of the porter, was a
third most beautiful lady, who was seated on the couch before
mentioned. This lady was called Zobeide, she who opened the door was
called Safie, and the name of the one who had been for the provisions
was Amina. Then said Zobeide, accosting the other two, "Sisters, do
you not see that this honest man is ready to sink under his burden?
Why do you not ease him of it?"
Then Amina and Safie took the basket, the one before and the other
behind; Zobeide also assisted, and all three together set it on the
ground, and then emptied it. When they had done, the beautiful Amina
took out money and paid the porter liberally.
The porter was well satisfied, but when he ought to have departed he
was chained to the spot by the pleasure of beholding three such
beauties, who appeared to him equally charming; for Amina, having now
laid aside her veil, proved to be as handsome as either of the others.
What surprised him most was that he saw no man about the house, yet
most of the provisions he had brought in, as the dry fruits and the
several sorts of cakes and confections, were adapted chiefly for those
who could drink and make merry.
"Madam," said he, addressing Zobeide, "I am sensible that I act rudely
in staying longer than I ought, but I hope you will have the goodness
to pardon me, when I tell you that I am astonished not to see a man
with three ladies of such extraordinary beauty; and you know that a
company of women without men is as melancholy as a company of men
without women."
To this he added some pleasantries in proof of what he advanced; and
did not forget the Bagdad proverb, "That the table is not completely
furnished, except there be four in company"; so concluded, that since
they were but three, they wanted another.
The ladies fell a-laughing at the porter's reasoning; after which
Zobeide gravely addressed him, "Friend, you presume rather too much;
and though you do not deserve it, I have no objection to inform you
that we are three sisters, who transact our affairs with so much
secrecy that no one knows anything of them. A good author says, 'Keep
thy own secret, and do not reveal it to any one. He that maketh his
secret known is no longer its master. If thy own breast cannot keep
thy counsel, how canst thou expect the breast of another to be more
faithful?'"
"Permit me, I entreat thee, to say, that I also have read in another a
maxim, which I have always happily practiced: 'Conceal thy secret,' he
says, 'only from such as are known to be indiscreet, and who will
abuse thy confidence; but make no difficulty in discovering it to
prudent men, because they know how to keep it.' The secret, then, with
me, is as safe as if locked up in a cabinet, the key of which is lost
and the door sealed."
The porter, notwithstanding his rhetoric, must, in all probability,
have retired in confusion if Amina had not taken his part, and said to
Zobeide and Safie, "My dear sisters, I conjure you to let him remain;
he will afford us some diversion. Were I to repeat to you all the
amusing things he addressed to me by the way, you would not feel
surprised at my taking his part."
At these words of Amina the porter fell on his knees, kissed the
ground at her feet, and raising himself up, said, "Most beautiful
lady, you began my good fortune to-day, and now you complete it by
this generous conduct. I cannot adequately express my acknowledgments.
As to the rest, ladies," said he, addressing himself to all the three
sisters, "since you do me so great an honor, I shall always look upon
myself as one of your most humble slaves."
When he had spoken these words he would have returned the money he had
received, but Zobeide ordered him to keep it.
"What we have once given," said she, "we never take back. We are
willing, too, to allow you to stay on one condition, that you keep
secret and do not ask the reason for anything you may see us do. To
show you," said Zobeide, with a serious countenance, "that what we
demand of you is not a new thing among us, read what is written over
our gate on the inside."
The porter read these words, written in large characters of gold: "He
who speaks of things that do not concern him, shall hear things that
will not please him."
"Ladies," said he, "I swear to you that you shall never hear me utter
a word respecting what does not relate to me, or wherein you may have
any concern."
These preliminaries being settled, Amina brought in supper, and after
she had lighted up the room with tapers made of aloewood and
ambergris, which yield a most agreeable perfume as well as a delicate
light, she sat down with her sisters and the porter. They began
again to eat and drink, to sing, and repeat verses. The ladies
diverted themselves by intoxicating the porter, under pretext of
making him drink their healths, and the repast was enlivened by
reciprocal sallies of wit. When they were all as merry as possible,
they suddenly heard a knocking at the gate.
[Illustration: _He was chained to the spot by the pleasure of
beholding three such beauties Page 38_]
Safie, whose office it was, went to the porch, and quickly returning,
told them thus: "There are three calenders[10] at the door, all blind
of the right eye, and have their heads, beards, and eyebrows shaved.
They say that they are only just arrived at Bagdad, where they have
never been before; and, as it is dark, and they know not where to
lodge, they knocked at our door by chance and pray us to show
compassion, and to take them in. They care not where we put them,
provided they obtain shelter. They are young and handsome; but I
cannot, without laughing, think of their amusing and exact likeness to
each other. My dear sisters, pray permit them to come in; they will
afford us diversion enough, and put us to little charge, because they
desire shelter only for this night, and resolve to leave us as soon as
day appears."
[Footnote 10: Calender, a sort of privileged beggar or fakir among the
Mohammedans, who wore a dress of sheepskin, with a leathern girdle
about his loins, and collected alms. A dervish is a poor man, who is
not bound by any vow of poverty to abstain from meat, and may
relinquish his profession at will.]
"Go, then," said Zobeide, "and bring them in, but make them read what
is written over the gate." Safie ran out with joy, and in a little
time after returned with the three calenders.
At their entrance they made a profound obeisance to the ladies, who
rose up to receive them and told them courteously that they were
welcome, that they were glad of the opportunity to oblige them and to
contribute toward relieving the fatigues of their journey, and at last
invited them to sit down with them.
The magnificence of the place, and the civility they received,
inspired the calenders with high respect for the ladies; but before
they sat down, having by chance cast their eyes upon the porter, whom
they saw clad almost like those devotees with whom they have continual
disputes respecting several points of discipline, because they never
shave their beards nor eyebrows,[11] one of them said, "I believe we
have got here one of our revolted Arabian brethren."
The porter, having his head warm with wine, took offense at these
words, and with a fierce look, without stirring from his place,
answered, "Sit you down, and do not meddle with what does not concern
you. Have you not read the inscription over the gate? Do not pretend
to make people live after your fashion, but follow ours."
"Honest man," said the calender, "do not put yourself in a passion. We
should be sorry to give you the least occasion. On the contrary, we
are ready to receive your commands." Upon which, to put an end to the
dispute, the ladies interposed, and pacified them. When the calenders
were seated, the ladies served them with meat; and Safie, being highly
pleased with them, did not let them want for wine.
[Footnote 11: This may probably be an allusion to the two great
divisions prevailing among the Mohammedans, the Soonnis and the
Shiites. The former upheld the legitimacy of the three first
successions of Mohammed; the latter maintained the right of his cousin
and son-in-law, Ali, and his descendants, called Fatemites or
Ismaelites. They both received the Koran, but the one added to it the
Sonna, or certain oral traditions attributed to Mohammed, which the
other rejected.]
When the calenders had finished their repast, they signified to the
ladies that they wished to entertain them with a concert of music, if
they had any instruments in the house, and would cause them to be
brought. The ladies willingly accepted the proposal, and Safie went to
fetch the instruments. Each man took the instrument he liked, and all
three together began to play a tune. The ladies, who knew the words of
a merry song that suited the air, joined the concert with their
voices; but the words of the song made them now and then stop, and
fall into excessive laughter. While their amusement was at its height,
there was a knock of unwonted loudness at their gate.
Now, it was the custom of the sultan Haroun al Raschid sometimes
during the night to go through the city in disguise, in order to
discover whether everything was quiet. On this evening he set out from
his palace accompanied by Giafar, his grand vizier, and Mesrour, chief
of the household, all three disguised as merchants. He it was, who, in
passing through the street, was attracted by the noise of the music
and of the peals of loud laughter, and had desired his grand vizier to
knock at the gate, and to demand shelter and admittance as for three
strangers who knew not where to seek shelter for the night. Safie, who
had opened the door, came back and obtained permission of her sisters
to admit the newly arrived strangers.
The caliph and his attendants, upon their entrance, most courteously
made obeisance to the ladies and to the calenders. The ladies returned
their salutations, supposing them to be merchants. Zobeide, as the
chief, addressed them with a grave and serious countenance and said,
"You are welcome. But while you are here you must have eyes but no
tongues; you must not ask the reason of anything you may see, nor
speak of anything that does not concern you, lest you hear and see
what will by no means please you."
"Madam," replied the vizier, "you shall be obeyed. It is enough for us
to attend to our own business, without meddling with what does not
concern us." After this, each seated himself, and the conversation
became general, and they drank to the health of the new guests.
While the vizier Giafar entertained them, the caliph ceased not from
admiring the beauty, elegance, and lively disposition of the ladies;
while the appearance of the three calenders, all blind of the right
eye, surprised him very much. He anxiously wished to learn the cause
of this singularity, but the conditions they had imposed upon him and
his companions prevented any inquiry. Besides all this, when he
reflected upon the richness of the services and furniture, with the
regularity and arrangement everywhere apparent, he could hardly
persuade himself it was not the effect of enchantment.
The guests continued their conversation, when, after an interval,
Zobeide rose up, and taking Amina by the hand, said to her, "Come,
sister, the company shall not prevent us from doing as we have always
been accustomed."
Amina, who perfectly understood what her sister meant, got up, and
took away the dishes, tables, bottles, glasses, and also the
instruments on which the calenders had played. Nor did Safie remain
idle; she snuffed the candles, and added more aloewood and ambergris.
Having done this, she requested the three calenders to sit on a sofa
on one side, and the caliph and his company on the other.
"Get up," said she then to the porter, looking at him, "and be ready
to assist in whatever we want of you."
A little while after, Amina came in with a sort of seat, which she
placed in the middle of the room. She then went to the door of a
closet, and having opened it, she made a sign to the porter to
approach.
"Come and assist me," she cried. He did so, and went in with her, and
returned a moment after, followed by two black dogs, each of them
secured by a collar and chain. They appeared as if they had been
severely whipped with rods, and he brought them into the middle of the
apartment.
Zobeide, rising from her seat between the calenders and the caliph,
moved very gravely toward the porter.
"Come," said she, heaving a deep sigh, "let us perform our duty."
She then tucked up her sleeves above her elbows, and receiving a rod
from Safie, "Porter," said she, "deliver one of the dogs to my sister
Amina, and bring the other to me."
The porter did as he was commanded. Upon this, the dog that he held in
his hand began to howl, and, turning toward Zobeide, held her head up
in a supplicating posture; but Zobeide, having no regard to the sad
countenance of the animal, which would have moved any one else to
pity, nor to its cries that resounded through the house, whipped her
with the rod till she was out of breath; and having spent her
strength, threw down the rod, and taking the chain from the porter,
lifted up the dog by her paws, and looking upon her with a sad and
pitiful countenance, they both wept. After this Zobeide, with her
handkerchief, wiped the tears from the dog's eyes, kissed her,
returned the chain to the porter, and desired him to carry the dog to
the place whence he took her, and to bring the other. Then taking the
whip, she served this in the same manner; she then wept with it, dried
its tears, kissed it, and returned it to the porter.
The three calenders, with the caliph and his companions, were
extremely surprised at this exhibition, and could not comprehend why
Zobeide, after having so furiously beaten those two dogs, that by the
Mussulman religion are reckoned unclean[12] animals, should weep with
them, wipe off their tears, and kiss them. They muttered among
themselves; and the caliph, who, being more impatient than the rest,
longed exceedingly to be informed of the cause of so strange a
proceeding, could not forbear making signs to the vizier to ask the
question. The vizier turned his head another way; but being pressed by
repeated signs, he answered by others, that it was not yet time for
the caliph to satisfy his curiosity.
[Footnote 12: The dog is in great disrepute among the Mohammedans.
Mohammed is reported to have said, "No angel enters where a dog is."
Cats, on the contrary, are great favorites, and sometimes accompany
their masters when they go to their mosque. The Mohammedans are under
certain restrictions in food; they are forbidden to eat the hare,
wolf, the cat, and all animals forbidden by the law of Moses. The
shrimp is forbidden among fish.--Bernard Picard.]
Zobeide sat still some time in the middle of the room, where she had
whipped the two dogs, to recover herself of her fatigue; and Safie
called to her, "Dear sister, will you not be pleased to return to your
place, that I may also act my part?"
"Yes, sister," replied Zobeide, and then went and sat down upon the
sofa, having the caliph, Giafar, and Mesrour on her right hand, and
the three calenders, with the porter, on her left.
The whole company remained silent for some time. At last Safie,
sitting on a chair in the middle of the room, spoke to her sister
Amina: "Dear sister, I conjure you to rise; you know what I would
say." Amina rose, and went into another closet near to that where the
dogs were, and brought out a case covered with yellow satin, richly
embroidered with gold and green silk. She went toward Safie and opened
the case, from whence she took a lute, and presented it to her; and
after some time spent in tuning it, Safie began to play, and,
accompanying the instrument with her voice, sang a song about the
torments that absence creates to lovers.
Having sung with much passion and action, she said to Amina, "Pray
take it, sister, for my voice fails me; oblige the company with a tune
and a song in my stead."
"Very willingly," replied Amina, who, taking the lute from her sister
Safie, sat down in her place. Having sung most delightfully, the
caliph expressed his admiration. While he was doing so, Amina fainted
away; and on opening her robe to give her air, they discovered that
her breast was covered with fearful scars.
While Zobeide and Safie ran to assist their sister, the caliph
inquired of the calender, "Cannot you inform me about these two black
dogs, and this lady, who appears to have been so ill-treated?"
"Sir," said the calender, "we never were in this house before now, and
entered it only a few minutes sooner than you did."
This increased the astonishment of the caliph. "Perhaps," said he,
"the man who is with you can give you some information?"
The calender made signs to the porter to draw near, and asked him if
he knew why the black dogs had been beaten, and why the bosom of Amina
was so scarred.
"Sir," replied the porter, "if you know nothing of the matter, I know
as little as you do. I never was in the house until now; and if you
are surprised to see me here, I am as much so to find myself in your
company."
The caliph, more and more perplexed at all he heard, determined that
he would have the information he required for the explaining these
mysterious proceedings. But the question was, who should first make
the inquiry? The caliph endeavored to persuade the calenders to speak
first, but they excused themselves. At last they all agreed that the
porter should be the man.
While they were consulting how to put the question, Zobeide herself,
as Amina had recovered from her fainting, approached them, and
inquired, "What are you talking of? What is your contest about?"
The porter then addressed her as follows: "These gentlemen, madam,
entreat you to explain why you wept with those dogs, after having
treated them so ill, and how it has happened that the lady who fainted
has her bosom covered with scars."
At these words Zobeide put on a stern look, and turning toward the
caliph and the rest of the company: "Is it true, gentlemen," said she,
"that you desired him to ask me these questions?"
All of them, except the vizier Giafar, who spoke not a word, answered
"Yes." She thereupon exclaimed, in a tone of resentment: "Before we
granted you the favor of receiving you into our house, and to prevent
all occasion of inquiry from you, we imposed the condition that you
should not speak of anything that did not concern you, lest you might
hear that which would not please you; and yet, after having received
our entertainment, you make no scruple to break your promise. Our easy
compliance with your wishes may have occasioned this, but that shall
not excuse your rudeness."
As she spoke these words, she gave three stamps with her foot, and
clapping[13] her hands as often together, cried, "Come quickly!"
Upon this a door flew open, and seven black slaves[14] rushed in; each
one seized a man, threw him to the ground, and dragged him into the
middle of the room, brandishing a scimitar over his head.
[Footnote 13: This is the ordinary mode in the East of calling the
attendants in waiting.]
[Footnote 14: In this manner the apartments of ladies were constantly
guarded.--Beckford's _Vathek_, Notes to p. 204.]
We can easily conceive the alarm of the caliph. He repented, but too
late, that he had not taken the advice of his vizier, who, with
Mesrour, the calenders, and porter, were, from his ill-timed
curiosity, on the point of forfeiting their lives.
Before they gave the fatal stroke, one of the slaves said to Zobeide
and her sisters, "Would it not be right to interrogate them first?" On
which Zobeide, with a grave voice, said: "Answer me, and say who you
are, otherwise you shall not live one moment longer. I cannot believe
you to be honest men, or persons of authority or distinction in your
own countries; for, if you were, you would have been more modest and
more respectful to us."
The caliph, naturally warm, was infinitely more indignant than the
rest, to find his life depending upon the command of a woman: but he
began to conceive some hopes, when he found she wished to know who
they all were; for he imagined that she would by no means take away
his life when she should be informed of his rank. He whispered to his
vizier, who was near him, instantly to declare who he was. But this
wise vizier, being more prudent, resolved to save his master's honor,
and not let the world know the affront he had brought upon himself by
his own imprudence; and therefore answered, "We have what we deserve."
But if he had intended to speak as the caliph commanded him, Zobeide
would not have allowed him time: for having turned to the calenders,
and seeing them all blind with one eye, she asked if they were
brothers.
One of them answered, "No, madam, no otherwise than as we are
calenders; that is to say, as we observe the same rules."
"Were you born blind of the right eye?" continued she.
"No, madam," answered he; "I lost my eye in such a surprising
adventure, that it would be instructive to every one to hear it."
Zobeide put the same question to the others in their turn, when the
last she addressed replied, "Pray, madam, show some pity on us, for we
are all the sons of kings. Although we have never seen each other
before this evening, we have had sufficient time to become acquainted
with this circumstance; and I can assure you that the kings who have
given us birth have made some noise in the world!" During this speech
Zobeide became less angry, and said to the slaves, "Give them their
liberty a while, but remain where you are. Those who tell us their
history, and the occasion of their coming, do them not hurt, let them
go where they please; but do not spare those who refuse to give us
that satisfaction."
The three calenders, the caliph, the grand vizier Giafar, the captain
of his guards, and the porter were all in the middle of the hall,
seated upon a carpet in the presence of the three ladies, who reclined
upon a sofa, and the slaves stood ready to do whatever their
mistresses should command.
The porter spoke first, and briefly related the adventures of the
morning with Amina, and the kind favors to him of herself and her fair
sisters in the evening, which he declared to be the whole of his
history.
When the porter had concluded, Zobeide said, "Save thyself and begone,
nor ever let us see thee again."
"I beg of you, madam," replied he, "to let me remain a little longer.
It would be unfair that I should not hear their histories, after they
have had the pleasure of hearing mine."
Saying this, he took his place at the end of the sofa, truly delighted
at finding himself free from the danger which so much alarmed him.
One of the calenders, addressing himself to Zobeide, next spoke.