the lute. Again he sat up and stared in blank astonishment at the
richly apparelled attendants of the Court making obeisance to him.
Then a lovely slave-girl ran forward and bowed low. 'O Prince of the
Faithful,' she said, 'it is the hour of morning prayer. It is thy daily
wish that I remind thee of this.'
Abu Hasan remained speechless. He knew not what to make of it. He
looked again at the sumptuous magnificence of the apartment and rubbed
his eyes. 'Am I awake?' he cried. 'Is this real? Nay, nay; it cannot
be: I dream.'
'O Prince of the Faithful,' said the slave-girl, 'hast thou indeed
dreamed that thou wert other than the Lord of all Creatures? It was an
evil dream, my lord! and now that thou art awake, I pray thee remember
thy usual custom.'
'Alas!' exclaimed Abu Hasan, beating his breast, 'what affair is this?
Am I Abu Hasan dreaming I am the caliph, or am I in truth the caliph
who heretofore dreamed he was Abu Hasan?'
Meanwhile the caliph himself, peering between the velvet hangings,
revelled in the exquisite perplexity of his guest. And when, after Abu
Hasan had given the lie to one and another who sought to convince him,
and, being fairly beaten, had to admit that he was indeed the caliph of
Baghdad, Rashid himself nearly split his sides with merriment. Finally,
when Hasan, believing himself the Lord of all Creatures, commanded all
present to withdraw and let him sleep on, the caliph rocked and rolled
upon his hidden couch as if in a fit.
As for Abu Hasan, he fell asleep again and dreamed he was naught but
Abu Hasan, the merchant. But later he awoke to find it was only a
dream. Of a verity he was the caliph of Baghdad, for there by his side
stood Mesrur, the High Executioner.
'Commander of the Faithful,' said Mesrur, prostrating himself, 'your
Majesty will forgive me for reminding you that it is unusual to rise so
late. The time of prayers is over and the business of the day waits.
The chief officers of state dwell upon your pleasure in the Council
Hall.'
Abu Hasan looked at him keenly. 'Am I awake?' he asked. 'Or do I dream
that I am awake?' Then, holding out his little finger to Mesrur, he
added, 'Bite that!'
Now Mesrur, who knew that the real caliph's eyes were upon him, was
anxious to please him, so he advanced, and, taking Hasan's little
finger, bit it hard--so hard that the owner of it cried out with pain.
'Ha!' he cried, 'I do not sleep: I feel, I see, I hear, I speak.
Enough!'
'Enough, Monarch of the World!' replied Mesrur. 'Wilt thou deign to
rise?'
Then Abu Hasan arose, and was dressed by the officers of the
bedchamber. Arrayed in magnificent robes of state he followed Mesrur to
the Council Hall, where he ascended the throne amid the acclamations of
the Court.
Er-Rashid himself found a niche high in the side of the hall, a point
from which he could see all that took place within. It pleased him
greatly to notice with what a solemn dignity Abu Hasan occupied the
throne. He evidently believed firmly and truly that he was indeed
the caliph. How gracious and condescending he was as the principal
officers of the Court approached, and, having made obeisance, preferred
petitions which were granted or refused wisely and without the least
embarrassment.
The business of the day was nearly over when Abu Hasan caught sight of
the cadi, whose face he knew very well. 'Stop!' he said to the grand
vizier, who was making a long speech 'I have an order of great moment
to give to the cadi.'
The cadi immediately arose on hearing his name and prostrated himself
before the throne. In his excitement at a sudden thought Abu Hasan
had risen to his feet. The vizier stepped forward. 'O Prince of the
Faithful!' he said, 'forget not that all men are thy humble slaves, and
that it is not fitting for the Lord of all Creatures to rise to any.'
But Hasan waved him aside. 'Peace!' he said sternly. 'I have a command
of the greatest importance for the cadi, and I cannot deliver it
sitting.' Then, turning to the cadi, he continued, 'Proceed immediately
to the house of Abu Hasan and give into the hand of his mother a
thousand pieces of gold with my blessing. Then repair to the mosque
near by and take the imam and his four chief sheiks and bestow upon
them a hundred strokes each. After that impale them each upon a camel,
with their faces towards the tails of the beasts, and drive them
through all the ways of the city, with a crier in advance proclaiming,
"Behold the reward of those who meddle in other people's affairs!" When
this is done, see to it that they are expelled from their mosque for
ever.'
Having said this Abu Hasan sat down upon the throne with a gasp. He
had achieved the dearest wish of his heart. Then he declared the Court
closed, and, one by one, all present passed before him and made the
same obeisance as when they entered.
Abu Hasan descended the throne and was conducted into a great hall of
stately magnificence, where a sumptuous feast was spread. The plates
and dishes were of solid gold, and from the rare viands upon them were
spread abroad the odours of spices and ambergris. Ten of the most
beautiful ladies of the Court stood about the seat set for him with
fans to fan him while he dined.
Now Abu Hasan the Wag had a merry wit. Contending that one fan was
quite enough, he bade the remaining nine ladies sit at the table with
him and eat; and when for very shyness they did not eat, he helped them
to the choicest morsels until they could not refrain. Even the lady
with the fan he fed with tit-bits from his own dish. The way he engaged
them with his sparkling wit was a delight to the caliph, who was still
watching the progress of his joke from a concealed place. 'Verily,'
said he, 'thou art a wag, Abu Hasan.'
When Hasan was fully refreshed with food there was still another
delight before him. The chief officer led him into another hall as
elegant as the former, and there, when his ladies-in-waiting had bathed
his hands in a golden bowl with great ceremony, Abu Hasan seated
himself on luxurious cushions and partook of the choicest sweetmeats
and fruits, while the Court musicians played a serenade and the Court
ladies stood around him fanning him, and responding to his sprightly
sallies. Never had he experienced such pleasure; but even greater
awaited him.
When dessert was finished he was conducted into yet another hall,
where, in the midst of everything the heart of luxury could desire,
were set silver flagons filled with sparkling wine, and near them were
placed seven golden goblets.
[Illustration: BEHOLD THE REWARD OF THOSE WHO MEDDLE IN OTHER PEOPLE'S
AFFAIRS p. 120]
Here also, reposing on soft cushions, were six beautiful damsels, each
one of whom could vie with the fairest flower or sit in the place of
the moon. Easily enticed to a luxurious divan prepared for him, Abu
Hasan seated himself, and, clapping his hands, bade the musicians
cease. There was silence. Then, turning to the damsel nearest him,
Hasan asked her name.
'Cluster of Pearls,' replied she.
'Then, Cluster of Pearls, fill a goblet with wine and I will drink your
health, and may you always shine as now.'
The girl, vastly pleased, handed him the wine, and he drank. And, as
the music played, and they whirled about him in the dance, he called
one after another at intervals, asked her name, and received wine at
her hands.
An hour of delight sped by in this fashion, until at last he came to
the sixth and last. 'What is your name?' asked he. 'Coralie,' said she.
'Then, Coralie, give me wine as red as your lips, and with a sparkle
like that in your eyes.'
Now the caliph had ordered that a lozenge of benj should be placed in
one of the goblets, and this reserved till the last. Accordingly, this
was the goblet that Coralie filled; and she handed it to Abu Hasan with
sweet words, bidding him forget his exalted degree and drink to the
eyes and lips of his humblest slave-girl.
Abu Hasan drank, and, in truth, he forgot everything--even the eyes and
lips of the slave-girl--for his head fell forward on his breast and the
goblet rolled from his hand. The benj had done its work: he was in a
profound slumber.
The caliph, who had enjoyed the whole scene immensely, quickly came out
of his hiding-place and ordered Abu Hasan to be dressed again in his
own clothes and carried back to his own house and put to bed.
Next morning----
O King, next morning, when Abu Hasan awoke, he sat up and looked about
him in the utmost astonishment. What prank was this that he should
dream he was awake and in his own home? Faugh! He clapped his hands
and called loudly, 'Coralie! Cluster of Pearls! Morning Star! Heart's
Delight! Where are you all?'
He called so loudly that his mother came running to him.
'What ails thee, my son?' cried she.
Abu Hasan sat up and looked at her haughtily. 'My good woman,' he said,
'I advise thee to moderate thy tone somewhat if thou wish to have a
head left upon thy body. Thy son, indeed! Knowest thou not that I am
the Commander of the Faithful. Bow down, woman, or it will go hardly
with thee.'
His mother knew not what to say, but it was clear he had lost his
reason. Thinking to divert his mind, she told him about the thousand
pieces of gold and the punishment of the imam.
'Ha! that is so,' cried he. 'It was by my order these things were done.
I tell you I am the caliph of Baghdad, and I will soon teach you how to
behave towards the Prince of the Faithful.'
With this he arose in wrath, and, seizing a cane, thrashed his mother
severely--whack! whack! whack! until her screams brought the neighbours
running in. And as soon as they learnt how matters were they said among
themselves, 'He is mad!' So they fell upon him and bound him, and took
him off to the mad-house.
A mad man then was Abu Hasan. Every day he received fifty strokes to
remind him that he was not the Lord of all Creatures, until at last
he was fain to admit that since these things must be done by order of
the caliph, it was not within reason that the caliph should punish the
Prince of the Faithful, or that the Lord of all Creatures should fall
upon himself in so grievous a fashion. At last, one day he confessed
his error to his mother, and it gave her as much joy as if she had
brought him into the world for the second time. 'I have had an evil
dream,' he said, 'a dream so real that verily it must have been the
work of wizardry. Ha! I see it now--that accurséd merchant that supped
with me. It was he and none other. But the thousand pieces of gold! The
imam! Nay, it was no dream, but the most devilish enchantment.'
But as he now confessed that he was not the caliph, his mother easily
procured his release and took him home. Under her tender care he soon
regained his strength, and at length began to resume his former habits.
Again he repaired in the evenings to the end of the bridge and waylaid
some stranger whom he invited to sup with him. Some weeks had elapsed
when one evening, while he was waiting in his usual place, he saw the
merchant from Moussul approaching, attended by his slave. 'By Allah!'
said he in great agitation, 'here comes that vile magician!'
The caliph walked straight up to him and cried, 'Ho, brother! Is it
thou? I am delighted! Permit me to embrace thee.'
'Not so fast,' returned Abu Hasan coldly. 'I care not for thee nor thy
embraces. Be off about thy business, accurséd of God!'
'What hast thou then suffered at my hands?' asked the caliph. 'Is it
that I forgot your oath through pleasure at seeing you once more? I am
deeply sorry.'
'Nay, nay; it is not that, O master of fiends! Thou didst enchant me
and hand me over to fiends, and now thou comest to make sport of my
sufferings. Begone! I like thee not.'
'Brother!' replied the caliph with extreme courtesy, 'thou art surely
in error. Yet perchance it was my fault, for now I do remember that
when I left you that night I neglected to close the door, and methinks
the evil one entered to thee after I had gone.' And, by cunning
arguments and the most courteous protestations of affection, the caliph
succeeded in convincing Hasan that he had no hand in such devilries,
and in the end Hasan realised that he had done the stranger so great an
injustice that he set aside his oath for once and invited him again to
his house.
And as it fell out before, so it befell again. A second time the caliph
employed the benj, and a second time Hasan awoke in the morning to
find himself upon the royal couch surrounded by the attendants of the
Court. His first call was for his mother, but a slave-girl struck a
lute near by and answered, 'O Prince of the Faithful! we are here to do
thy bidding.'
Abu Hasan looked about him completely dazed. If he was one day Abu
Hasan and another day the caliph, who was he when he was at home? The
problem was insoluble. He tried to solve it by commanding the chief
memluk to bite his ear to see if he was really awake. Then, as the
memluk's teeth met through the flesh of the lobe, Abu Hasan shrieked
aloud, and the caliph, hidden in a recess near by, fell to his knees
with suppressed laughter.
'Verily, I am awake,' cried Abu Hasan, rising in fury, 'but this is
the work of the evil one. O Abandoned of God! Back to your infernal
abodes! I will have none of you.' And he hurled at them the most holy
passages of the Koran ordained for the casting out of devils. At this
the caliph, unable to endure it further, came forth, laughing as he had
never laughed before. He cried, holding his sides, 'Stop! for Allah's
sake, stop! or it will be the death of me!'
Then Abu Hasan stood aghast. He recognised the merchant of Moussul, and
also, for the first time, he recognised Harun-er-Rashid, the caliph of
Baghdad, the mighty descendant of the House of Abbas. He saw it all
now, and humbly made obeisance, praying that the Lord of all Creatures
might live for ever.
'Rise, Abu Hasan the Wag!' said the caliph, 'and the peace of Allah be
with thee.'
Abu Hasan the Wag! What a history was his! He rose in favour with the
caliph, who ceased not to shower gifts upon him. And a time came when
the caliph and the Queen Zobeide conspired together to marry him to
one of the loveliest women of the Court. These two thereafter lived in
the palace, under the caliph's smile, in perfect happiness, tasting
every delight until, in the end, when the last cup of joy was quaffed,
the Great Gleaner, who gleans alike in palaces and in the humblest
dwellings, came to gather them home.
JUSEF AND ASENATH
A LOVE STORY OF EGYPT
THE loves of _Jusef_ and _Asenath_ which ran not smooth! Deep is the
poet's singing thereon, and sweet is the song that is sung.
In the days of old, even on a day when _Jusef_, having interpreted
the dream of Egypt's king, set forth through the whole land to gather
the plenteous harvest against the seven years of famine to come, a
beautiful maiden named _Asenath_ sat in the tower of her father's
palace surrounded by seven damsels whose beauty was rare, though it
paled before that of _Asenath_ herself. She had chosen these damsels
from the multitudes of Syria and Egypt and Arabia--a choice beset with
difficulty, for each one of them was neither older nor younger than
_Asenath_, having been born in the selfsame midnight hour, though in
places far distant beneath the moon.
'Think not,' she was saying to them, 'that my father Putiphra, priest
of Heliopolis and satrap of Pharaoh though he be, can say to me, "This
man shalt thou love," or, "That man shall take thee to wife." Nay, the
heart of _Asenath_ is her own, and it goes not out to any man, be he
the greatest in the land or so beautiful that the stars bow down before
him. True, my father is a good man and just, yet would not I obey him
in such a matter, for, in the first place, my dead mother's words are
locked in my bosom. "My daughter," she said, "although thy father is of
Egypt, thou art not, as I am not. I, a Hebrew of Syria, descended from
Zedekiah, in the region beyond the Euphrates, did spoil the Egyptians
of thee, by thy very birth from me. See to it, therefore, that thou
take no prince of the land of Pharaoh to thy bosom, but rather one of
my own Hebrew blood, which has flowed through Syria to the east, and,
having at length sat on the throne of Egypt, will rise from the ends
of the earth to vanquish Syria in the west." Do ye comprehend this?'
'O _Asenath_, we bow before thee. Thy beauty would burn the heart of
the mightiest in the land.'
'Nay, I shall ever shun such fires. In that respect my mother's words
take no hold upon me. For that was in the first place; in the second
place, my mother's words counselling me to shun the Egyptian and wed
one of her own blood mean naught to me, since I would of my own accord
shun all men, both Hebrew and Egyptian.'
The seven damsels looked at one another in silence. At last one, a
dark-eyed Syrian, leaned forward and spoke:
'O _Asenath_, hear me! Hast thou never felt a strange voice in thy
heart calling for eyes like thine, and lips like wine, and strong arms
to gather thee close and crush thee like a flower?'
'Never have I. Hast thou, Ashtar?'
'Never. Yet I have heard it sung in songs, when I doubt not it is the
sweet music only that holds one in a close embrace till the heart beats
wildly and----'
'Stay thy tongue, Ashtar,' broke in _Asenath_ with scorn. 'Thy words
strike upon the back of my head, and fall at my heels. I see the light
of madness in thine eyes.'
And Ashtar, withered by her glance, hid her face in her hands and
drowned that light of madness in a storm of tears.
'Tush, girl!' said _Asenath_, 'surely thou hast gone from thy mind to
speak such words.' The others sat mute and still, fearing to sympathise
with Ashtar lest they should arouse their mistress's anger still
further. And yet each maiden leaned her body and turned her eyes a
little--a very little--towards the culprit, for she had spoken bold
words which they had never dared to frame.
'Look you,' cried _Asenath_, raising herself and speaking high, 'this
day I learn that the first-born of Pharaoh hath desired me as wife. But
I will none of him. I told his messenger that the king of Egypt would
desire a greater personage than I as his son's wife, and therefore
he had best look to the king of Moab, whose daughter is not only
beautiful, but a queen. Faugh! I will none of them. I am a maiden, and
a maiden I will remain.'
Now, although _Asenath_ treasured her mother's memory, and for Hebrew
loveliness was as beautiful as Rachel; although she liked not the
Egyptians and their rule, yet, perforce, she knew no other religion
than theirs. Her father had brought her up in the worship and fear of
the Egyptian gods. Every day she repaired to the highest story of the
tower, where, in the central chamber of twelve--a chamber splendidly
adorned with rare stones of many colours and workmanship--those gods,
who were many, were wrought in silver and gold, even upon the purple
ceiling. There, day by day, she worshipped and feared and paid them
sacrifice. This done, she would retire into a luxurious chamber which
had a great window looking towards the east, and there she would sit
and muse and ponder, gazing out beyond the palace courtyard and away
to the lonely waters of the Nile, now plying her needle on delicate
embroideries which she loved, and now playing sweet music on her lute
and singing to the silver moon. Always her damsels were about her; and
always the feet of men, for whom she had neither love nor fear, trod
far below in the ways of the city, no foot among those thousands ever
destined to tread the marble stairway leading to her palace tower.
Rich and rare were the priceless things the twelve chambers contained.
Apart from treasure-rooms stocked with precious stones and rare
ornaments and linen and silk of striking splendour there were broad
balconies and pillared alcoves where the soft breezes rustled in the
branches of great palms and the spray of clear fountains sparkled in
the sunlight ere it fell to rest on a bed of moss or strayed further to
caress the foliage of rare ferns nodding dreamily in deep grot or cool
recess. No flower that ever delighted the eyes of king or peasant was
absent from _Asenath's_ abode, and such a fragrance hung upon the air
that one had but to close one's eyes and yield to the sweet influences
of Paradise.
On the day when _Asenath_ was speaking to her maidens, as has been
told already, she was reclining on a golden couch decked with purple,
woven with threads of gold, while all about it and upon were set jewels
that sparkled like stars in the midnight sky. She was gazing out at
the great window towards the east, when suddenly she was startled by a
great commotion in the courtyard below. Slaves ran hither and thither
at the word of the steward of the palace. All seemed in preparation for
some great event.
'It can be naught but this,' said _Asenath_, 'my father hath sent a
messenger saying that he is returning from his country estate, having
taken tale of the harvest, for the king hath decreed that _Jusef_, the
first ruler, shall require a toll of all in this the first year of
plenty.'
'_Jusef_, the prime ruler,' said Ashtar, 'he will come here? Then we
shall see him. They say he is as beautiful as a god.'
'_They_ say, girl? Who say?'
'The songs,' stammered Ashtar, crestfallen, 'the--the songs of love.'
'Silence, wayward one! Thou art bemused by the poets. This _Jusef_ is a
mere man like other men; was he not the son of a shepherd? Was he not a
runaway? Was he not sold as a slave? Was he not cast by his master, and
for some good reason, into a dungeon?'
'Yea, O my adored mistress, but was he not liberated by Pharaoh?'
'Yes, because he interpreted Pharaoh's dreams, just as any old Egyptian
woman might do. Pouf! Thou art bemused!'
Then Ashtar sat in silence, gazing out at the deep blue sky. Why had
this _Jusef's_ interpretation of dreams raised him to the king's favour
while that of the old Egyptian women had been unheeded? Was it because
he was, as the singers sang, as beautiful as a god and possessed the
spirit of a god? Ashtar could not tell. Beneath the haughty frown of
_Asenath_ she sat dumb. Then, with a sigh, she sank upon her cushions,
her lips trembling.
'Ashtar is bemused,' whispered the other damsels one to another.
'Could the like happen to us?' And _Asenath_, catching their words,
cried, 'Ashtar is a fool! Who but a fool would ever think such
thoughts or speak such words?' Then, as a great sound of voices
struck upon her ear, she turned again to the window. 'See! See!' she
exclaimed, 'a great cavalcade is approaching the gates. There at the
head is my father, and--who is that beside him? What are the people
crying?--"_Jusef_, the Prince of God!" Ah! How proudly he sits his
white charger, and how brave his equipments--how splendid his retinue!
say you, Ashtar, that this is the second to Pharaoh?'
[Illustration: Handwritten: If any reader of my Picture Book would like
to make a direct contribution to the French Red Cross, I should be
very proud to receive and acknowledge it. France, bled of treasure and
supplies is giving all she can.
Can you not spare something towards this work of mercy and healing
among our most gallant Allies?
Edmund Dulac
_Contributions may be addressed to_
EDMUND DULAC,
C/O THE DAILY TELEGRAPH,
FLEET STREET, E.C.]
'Yes, mistress, yes; this is the man _Jusef_, like all other men. They
say he is searching for corn, not for the love of woman.'
'Then let him deal with corn,' flashed _Asenath_, rising. 'Leave me,
all of you! I would be alone.'
The damsels fled, and _Asenath_ turned again to the window. The gates
were now opened, and her father and _Jusef_, followed by a great
retinue, rode into the courtyard. Ah! What perfect grace of form and
feature! _Asenath's_ heart almost burst for frantic beating as she
looked at him. Then, in spite of herself, she drew nearer the window,
and, as she gazed down, _Jusef_ chanced to glance up. Their eyes met,
and _Asenath_, with a pang at her heart, reeled and fell clutching
at the cushions. There she lay sobbing in sudden sorrow. She had
spoken bitter words against him, and now the sweet tears of repentance
refreshed her anguished soul. Soon she sat up, a picture of misery, but
with a glorious light in her eyes.
'Ashtar is no fool,' she murmured, clenching her hands; 'and I do
not believe the tales told by the people against him. Oh! Unhappy
_Asenath_! What is life to thee now? He comes for toll of corn, and
with toll of corn he will depart, and then----'