beauty given to her by Dahnash the Efreet. Now, as you know, the
Efreets are a powerful order of spirits, sometimes benign and friendly
to mortals, sometimes malign and inimical. Dahnash, and another, of
whom I shall presently speak, were of evil origin, but possessed enough
of good in their nature to make them long for an immortal soul, and
this they sought to obtain by labours of love for mankind. The talisman
given to _Badoura_ had the peculiar virtue of uniting lovers destined
for each other. She had, by this virtue, dreamed of one far away; and
all her heart longed for him unutterably, while she still knew that a
golden hour of the future would bring him to her side.
Know, O King, that the potency in a talisman is linked with its origin
in the world of Efreets. Now in the far country of Khaledan, ruled by
King Shazaman, dwelt Meymooneh, a female Efreet of great wisdom. It
was she who had endowed this talisman with its virtues and sent it by
Dahnash, an Efreet of lower degree, to the _Lady Badoura_. After this
she had, by magic spells, led Prince Camaralzaman, the king's only
son, to defy his father's command to marry; and, by her subtle arts,
his heart and mind were so entranced by dreams of one as lovely as she
was far away, that his ever-growing resistance to his father's will
was at last met by the sternest anger. So it happened that just as
_Badoura_ was imprisoned in the tower,--and for the same reason,--so
was Camaralzaman cast into the dungeon beneath his father's palace.
There in that self-same spot, in the depth of a well in a recess of the
dungeon, dwelt Meymooneh the Efreet.
Towards midnight, when the Efreet goes forth, Meymooneh rose like a
bubble from the bottom of the well and found the prince, beautiful in
sleep, lying on a rough couch against the wall of his prison. Lost in
wonder at his perfect loveliness, she gazed down upon him. For a while
she stood thrilled with the thrill of the Efreet's love for a mortal,
her outspread wings quivering above him; then at the call of her
lifelong purpose she slowly folded her wings and drew back with a sigh.
'By Allah!' she murmured, 'I know now that He is good, or He could not
have created a mortal so perfectly beautiful. I will fulfil my task and
win my soul.' So saying she bent down and pressed a kiss between his
eyes. He turned, dreaming that a rose-petal had fallen on his brow, but
did not wake.
With glad heart and heel Meymooneh spurned the earth and soared aloft
through the dungeon's roof, crying 'Dahnash! Dahnash!' Her summons was
answered by a peal of thunder and a whirr of wings, as Dahnash appeared
through a murky cloud. Torn from his demon abode he must needs come,
for Meymooneh had power over him. By muttered spells she held him in
mid-air, his eyes blazing, his tail lashing, and his wings vibrating
feather against feather.
'Dahnash! sayest thou that she to whom I sent thee with the talisman is
more perfect than any among mortals?'
'O Meymooneh!' replied he, fearing her glance, 'torture me as thou wilt
if I have not told thee truly that there is none her equal: the _Lady
Badoura_ is fair above all beauty among mortals.'
'Thou liest! He for whose sake I wrought the talisman is fairer.'
Word gave word in heated dissension, and Dahnash only escaped
Meymooneh's wrath by pleading for a fair comparison of the two seen
side by side.
'Go, then!' cried Meymooneh, buffeting him with her wing. 'Off with you
to China and bring hither your bird of beauty. We will compare them
side by side, as thou sayest; and then we will further prove the matter
by waking first one and then the other to see which accords the other
the more fervent protestations of love. Go! Bring her to my abode!'
On this Dahnash sped with incredible swiftness to China, while
Meymooneh repaired to the dungeon where the prince was still in slumber.
In a brief space Dahnash reappeared at her side bearing the _Lady
Badoura_ sleeping in his arms. He laid his lovely burden on the
couch beside Camaralzaman, and the two Efreets, dumbfounded by the
incomparable beauty of the pair, gazed upon them in speechless wonder.
'It is well we agreed that they themselves should decide,' said
Meymooneh at length, 'for where both are perfect the decision is beyond
our power.'
Then, transforming herself into a flea, she sprang forthwith upon
the neck of the prince and bit him. Camaralzaman awoke, and, raising
himself on one elbow, beheld the face and form of _Badoura_ by his
side. Giving himself up to a sudden ecstasy of love, and crying that
all his life had been a dream of which this was the waking fulfilment,
he strove to arouse her; but in vain: she was bound by the spell
of the Efreets, who, having rendered themselves invisible, were
watching intently. At last, his words of love falling exhausted on
her unconscious spirit, he placed his arm beneath her raven tresses,
and, raising her head, kissed her on the brow with the purest love of
youth. Then, by a sudden inspiration, on seeing a ring upon her finger,
he exchanged it for his own; and, having done this, sank to sleep in
obedience to the Efreets' spell.
Meymooneh, now anxious to show the other aspect of the case, again
assumed the form of a flea, and, springing upon _Badoura_, soon found
a way to bite her hard in a soft place. _Badoura_ sprang up wide awake
and immediately beheld Camaralzaman sleeping by her side.
'Oh me!' she cried, 'what shame has come upon me? Yet, by Allah! he is
so beautiful that I love him to distraction.' Then, after crying out
the utmost words of love to his unheeding spirit, she fell to kissing
his hands, whereupon she found to her amazement that her ring was upon
his finger and a strange one upon her own. 'I know not,' cried she at
last, 'but it seemeth we are married.' And with that she sighed with
content, and, nestling to his side, fell under the Efreets' spell of
sleep.
At a loss, even now, to decide which was the more beautiful, the
Efreets agreed to waive their difference, and Dahnash, at the bidding
of Meymooneh, raised _Badoura_ in his arms and sped through space to
China.
When waking came with morning light the case with _Badoura_ was like
that with Camaralzaman, save that the former, having quitted her
couch, forgot it, whereas the latter was clearly certain he had not
quitted his. Each discovered the other's ring bestowed in exchange.
Each thrilled at the meaning of this pledge, which proved their meeting
to have been no baseless dream. Each swore by Allah that a fiendish
trick had been played at dead of night,--not in the wedding of them
in their sleep, but in the snatching of them asunder before waking.
_Badoura_ wailed for her husband; Camaralzaman rose in wrath and
demanded his stolen wife. There was trouble in China and in Khaledan
that day, and in each kingdom a sorrowful king wept for the madness of
his first-born.
For three long years the pair nursed their love in separation and
confinement. Camaralzaman was sent in splendid exile to a palace by the
sea, but the wide expanse of waters only afforded him the greater space
for the longing which consumed him. He could not know that, far across
the ocean, the one he longed for was sitting, chained by the neck with
a golden chain, there at the window of her palace tower--chained and
guarded lest in her supposed madness she should hurl her body in the
wake of her soul which rushed to meet him from afar. He could not know
that her father, the king, had invited the astrologers and wise men to
cure his daughter of her malady, the reward of success being her hand
and half his kingdom, the punishment of failure the forfeiture of life;
nay, he might even have rejoiced to know that already forty heads,
relieved of wisdom, decked the walls of Gaiour's palace. Yet, O King of
the Age, through the virtues of the talisman he was led thither to see
and know.
One day _Badoura's_ old nurse arose from sleep bewildered, and,
summoning her son Marzavan, she dispatched him on the track of the
footprints of a dream. One in the wide world afar seemed to have come
and gone, leaving nothing but a trail of the perfume of Paradise--a
trail which Marzavan must follow. He set forth, and over land and sea
he travelled on his quest. Now upon some fragrant gale he fancied he
heard the voice of the one he sought; now in the sunset glow of the
western hills he caught the echo of his horse's hoofs. Many he met who
had heard of a prince afar who was mad for the love of one unknown, but
none could pilot him to that prince's dwelling-place. At last it was
the wing of chance--the certainty of talismans--that brought him to the
feet of Camaralzaman. Through perilous adventure, ending in shipwreck,
he found him and told him all. How they contrived their sudden flight
and passage across land and sea I leave to your own thoughts, O King
of the Age, for thou knowest in thy wisdom that, where none can find a
way, Love will find a way.
So it transpired one day that the forty heads relieved of wisdom looked
down approvingly upon a youthful astrologer beating with his staff upon
the palace gates.
'By Allah!' cried the janitor on opening to him. 'Thou art in a mighty
hurry to quit this life so soon.'
'Nay, I come to heal the _Lady Badoura_ of her malady. Let me in, and
that quickly!'
He had his will. Then, step by step, each step an age, he followed up
and up to the lonely tower. His hair seemed turning grey before he was
admitted; but no sooner had he crossed the threshold than _Badoura_,
with a cry of joy, rose and broke her golden chain, and sped to his
arms, where she lay in bliss, pouring out her soul in sobs and kisses.
The cure was immediate. The king came in haste and saw in a moment that
she was healed beyond the wildest hope of the forty bleached heads.
'Allah be praised!' he cried on seeing her face aglow and her eyes
a-dancing with delight. 'There is indeed no god but Allah! For I
perceive that He hath restored my daughter's reason.'
'Nay, my father,' returned she, 'Allah hath restored thy daughter's
husband: her reason was never lacking.' And when, in proof of her
words, she had shown the astonished king her own ring upon the finger
of Camaralzaman, and his upon hers, she clung to her husband in an
ecstasy of joy, returning his ardent kisses again and again and again.
When the whole story of Camaralzaman's perils and adventures by land
and sea was told, the king marvelled greatly at the power of love that
had drawn two sundered hearts together in so wonderful a fashion.
'Of a surety,' he said, 'the souls of these two have stood together
in the Magic Isle of Love, where the woven moonbeams trap the hearts
of lovers in one net. And, by Allah! though those silvery threads may
stretch to the brink of the earth and the opposite sides of heaven,
they must, at Allah's will, tighten again, drawing heart close to
heart. Great is the will of Allah!'
* * * * *
The _Lady Badoura_, with her husband, Prince Camaralzaman, dwelt in
the land of China in a state of the utmost delight and happiness for
many, many days, beloved of the king and all the people. And _Badoura_
treasured the talisman that had brought such great joy: she wore it
always,--sewn in her robe against the beating of her heart.
THE SLEEPER AWAKENED
A TALE FROM THE THOUSAND AND ONE NIGHTS
ABU HASAN THE WAG!
O my Lord the King, strange as was the story of Sindbad the Sailor,
that of Abu Hasan the Wag is even stranger--indeed, there is no true
story so strange in all the world. Abu Hasan--a mere merchant--awoke
one morning to find himself caliph of Baghdad; and, as thou bidst me
recall a tale of past telling, I will relate exactly how it happened.
Know, then, O King, that Abu Hasan the Wag, living in the reign of
Harun-er-Rashid, inherited a large fortune from his father. As his
wealth was no longer his father's but his own, he took thought as to
how he might save at least some of it. Accordingly, without telling any
one, he divided it into two equal parts, setting one part aside in a
safe place and keeping the other at his disposal to lavish among his
boon companions. 'In this way,' said he, 'I shall at once be risking
only half my fortune and learning the way of the world; for I doubt not
that when I have spent the one-half on my friends they will in their
turn treat me in like fashion.' By which you will perceive, O King,
that Abu Hasan, whose exact age I have not stated, was at least young.
A great man then was Abu Hasan. He had gold, and he summoned his boon
companions to every delight his heart could devise. Long and loud was
the revelry by night. Equally long were the bills by day. But Abu
Hasan knew his friends: they were good fellows all, and he felt quite
sure that when the half of his fortune was spent and they thought him
penniless, they would turn to him and say, 'Thou didst treat us right
royally while thou wast rich: now that thou art poor, come and partake,
in your turn, of our _largesse_.' By which you will perceive, O King,
that he was not growing any older.
A whole year passed in riotous living and extravagant generosity. Then,
finding the money exhausted, he called his boon companions and laid his
case before them, expecting what he did not receive. Every one of them
turned his back and left him with the utmost unconcern. Some called him
a fool; others could not imagine what he had done with all his money:
all took their leave and went their ways.
A sad man then was Abu Hasan and, like all sad men, he sought his
mother.
'O my son,' said she, stroking his hair, 'was it not always so? Thou
wast rich: they were thy friends. Thou art poor: where is their
friendship? My son, thou hast sold it and paid for it thyself. Alas!
learn from this never to put thy trust in the friends of thy purse.'
And, with his head upon her lap, she wept over him bitterly.
A changed man then was Abu Hasan. He arose and went forth, no longer
young, and withdrew from its safe keeping the remaining half of his
fortune. With a part of this--being still a man of wealth--he purchased
a mansion and filled it with all manner of delights till it was fit to
charm the heart of the caliph himself; and there he dwelt in luxury,
as befitted a man of his station. But, having purchased a fragment
of wisdom at the price of half his original fortune, he resolved to
make use of it. He would have done with friends and have to do only
with strangers, and these, moreover, should remain strangers, for his
associationship with any one of them should be for one night only;--at
dawn 'Farewell! Henceforth I know you not; for I have been sorely bit
by friends; by strangers never.'
In the evenings, when the purple twilight fell upon Baghdad, Abu Hasan
would take up a position at the end of the great bridge, and there,
sooner or later, he would accost a stranger, pressing upon him a warm
invitation to spend the night under his roof, and promising him the
best of entertainment. Indeed, being of a gay and merry disposition,
he sought even to choose one of a melancholy cast, so that he might
exercise his wit upon him and cause his face to shine with mirth. In
the morning he would send his guest away with his blessing, having
explained to him the nature of his oath and exacted his promise to
regard him henceforth as a perfect stranger. 'And so, farewell! May God
conduct you in safe and pleasant ways!'
For a long time he behaved in this manner, providing the best of
entertainment and adhering closely to his oath. At length there came
an evening when he was waiting as usual on the bridge, and it chanced
that the caliph of Baghdad himself came by, disguised as a merchant--a
favourite amusement of his when he wished to traverse the ways of
the city and see how his people fared. Abu Hasan looked at him as he
passed, and taking him, by his dress and the stout slave following him,
for a merchant from Moussul, and therefore a stranger in the city, he
accosted him.
'Sir,' he said, saluting gracefully, 'permit me to compliment you on
your happy arrival in Baghdad. Not, indeed, to show you that this is a
hospitable city, but rather that I may have the honour of your company
at my house, I beg that you will accept my invitation to come and sup
with me and rest yourself after the fatigue of your journey.'
The caliph, always in the mood for an adventure, accepted gladly, and
together they repaired to Hasan's abode, the slave following after.
When they arrived they found supper laid for two, and in the most
sumptuous style. Hasan, treating his guest with every courtesy, seated
him in the place of honour.
The apartment was most luxurious. On one side trickled streams of water
through silver channels half hidden among rare ferns. On another side
golden fountains played in cool grottoes, and, over all, a soft light
falling from a wonderful lamp overhead wrapped the richness of the
place in a dreamy glamour.
Towards the end of the repast a beautiful slave-girl floated in with
her lute and sang a song of love, inspired by the soft languor of the
night. And the caliph wondered concerning his host: what manner of man
was he to entertain so royally?
When supper was over, and everything cleared away, Hasan arose, and,
having lighted a number of candles to throw a brighter light on the
scene, spread a rich wine-cloth and brought out his rarest wines. He
did these things himself, because it was always his whim after supper
to play the servant to his guest as if he were a royal personage.
'My master,' he said, filling a golden goblet with wine and raising
it to the caliph, 'I make you free of all ceremony. I am thy faithful
servitor, and may I never have to grieve thy loss.' With this he drank
the wine and then filled another goblet for his guest. 'I warrant you
will find it good,' he said, handing it to him on bended knee.
'I am satisfied of that,' replied the caliph; 'I can see you have
nothing but the best of everything.' And he drank to Abu Hasan.
Far into the night they sat and talked of many things. The caliph was
pleased at his host's waggish whim of playing the rôle of servant to
a royal master, and Hasan, for his part, was delighted at his guest's
refined manners and his great knowledge on many subjects. 'I am,
indeed, a proud man to be honoured by the company of so accomplished
and polite a personage,' he said, and, even if he had known that he was
entertaining the caliph of Baghdad, he could not have treated his guest
in better fashion.
At length, when they had pledged each other in many glasses of wine,
and the hours were growing small, the caliph remarked, 'Mine host,
thou hast seen for thyself how greatly I have enjoyed this pleasant
intercourse; and, as I would not seem ungrateful, pray tell me in what
way I may serve thee. I am but a merchant of Moussul, but if there be
any request dear to thy heart, I beg thee to mention it, for, though a
stranger in this city, I have some friends who sit in high places.'
'Nay, my master,' replied Abu Hasan; 'my entertainment has been more
than rewarded by the gracious presence of a charming guest. Any other
recompense would spoil my memory of this night and thee.'
'As you will. But let us suppose now--both of us being greatly tickled
by this most fragrant wine--if I had the power to grant the dearest
wish of thy heart, what would that wish be?'
Abu Hasan laughed and took up the quaint conceit. 'The dearest wish of
my heart?' said he; 'I will tell it thee in a trice. Yonder, at the
cast of a stone, stands a mosque, and the imam of that mosque is a
hypocrite of an exalted degree. Indeed, among hypocrites he stands at
the head of his profession. He lords it over the whole neighbourhood,
and especially over me, for, when he hears music and revelry during
the hours that every self-respecting imam should be asleep, he ceases
not to persecute me on the matter until I have no stomach for anything
that is his. Ah! if I were caliph, even for a single day, then would
I punish this wicked man in a fitting fashion. A hundred strokes on
the soles of his feet--not less! Then a parade through the city--a
triumphal procession headed by that sycophant impaled on a camel, with
his face to the tail to signify that he is on his way to Paradise in
the wrong direction. And, not to pay too poor a tribute to his skilled
hypocrisy, I would give him a cortège: four of his sheiks who aid and
abet him in his kill-joy persecutions should follow him at an admiring
and respectful distance, each impaled upon a camel, and each bound for
Paradise with his face pointing the other way. Then, by Allah! the
people would follow this great procession, crying, "Behold, such is the
reward of fools and interferers!" This would I do if I were caliph for
a single day, but----' And Hasan the Wag broke off, laughing. His guest
laughed with him, for he was mightily amused. Suddenly his face became
as the face of one who hath a purpose; then, to conceal that purpose,
he laughed again, louder than before.
'Mine host,' he cried, as soon as he could contain himself, 'verily
thou art a wag!' Then he took a bottle and filled a goblet with
sparkling wine. 'May thy wish be granted,' he said, and drained the
goblet. 'Pray, friend,' he went on, 'while I fill a cup for thee, wilt
thou be so good as to ascertain the condition of my slave beneath thy
roof. I doubt not that he is comfortably situated, but he is a faithful
servant, and well deserveth the solicitude of his master.'
Abu Hasan admired his guest the more for his thought for his slave. He
arose quickly and went to see into the matter himself, for by this time
his whole household had retired to rest. While he was gone the caliph
drew a lozenge of benj--a powerful opiate--from the inner recesses of
his dress and dropped it into the goblet, which he quickly filled with
wine. When Hasan returned, saying that the slave had been well cared
for, the caliph handed him the wine. 'You have filled for me many
times,' he said; 'now I have filled for you. Drink, I pray thee, for my
sake.'
Abu Hasan took the goblet, and, eager to fulfil the slightest wish of
his guest, drank deep. Then, scarcely had he set down the goblet, when
his senses reeled. He threw up his arms and was falling prone when
the caliph sprang to his aid and gently laid him down upon the soft
cushions. The benj had done its work: Abu Hasan was in a deep sleep.
The caliph now summoned his slave, and directed him to take up the
unconscious body of his host and carry it to the palace. So they
set out, unobserved at that late hour; and, when they reached their
destination, the caliph gave orders that Abu Hasan be undressed,
clothed in the royal robes, and put to bed upon the royal couch. This
was soon done.
Then the caliph summoned his grand vizier.
'Giafer,' said he, 'you see this man upon my state bed: now mark my
words. In the morning, when he awakes, see to it that you treat him in
every respect as you would myself. Accost him with the same reverence,
and observe and do whatever he bids you, for I have put him in my
place. Convince him by thy subtlety, Giafer, that he is indeed the
caliph of Baghdad, and that his lightest word must be obeyed. His
generosity is such that he may wish to empty the coffers of my treasury
on the heads of the poor: even so, carry out his commands. And see to
it, Giafer, that all, from the emirs to the lowest slaves, pay him the
same honour and obedience as they would myself, always exercising the
greatest care lest he discover that he is not what he seems. Moreover,
as this is a rare diversion after my own heart, be sure to wake me
before the drug releases him; and, as thou knowest, the power of the
benj lasts little more than three hours, and, after that, natural
sleep, from which he can be awakened. But, Giafer, wake me first, for I
would see what I would see.'
The vizier failed not to understand. He quickly conducted the caliph
to a couch behind some heavy velvet hangings, whence, by parting the
folds, he would be able to see all he desired. Then the vizier went to
prepare the whole Court for the part they were to play.
In the morning, as the three hours' thrall of the benj drew to a
close, the royal apartment was as it had always been at the hour of
sunrise. The officers and the ladies of the Court were there, placed
according to their rank. The other attendants--the eunuchs and the
slave-girls--took their positions as usual, for the caliph was due to
arise and prepare for morning prayer.
A slave-girl struck some joyous chords upon her lute, and Abu Hasan
awoke with a start. He sat up and looked about him. The royal couch,
the resplendent apartment lit by the morning sun, the courtiers bowing
before him--surely this was all a dream! With a sigh at the seeming
reality of it all he sank back and went to sleep again.