took the jewels and set out for Bassorah after he had laid them in a
belt, which he buckled about his waist; and he stayed not till there
remained aught but a day’s journey between that city and himself; when
the Arabs came out upon him and stripped him naked and slew his men and
servants; but he lay himself down among the slain and wallowed in their
blood, so that the wildlings took him for dead and left him without even
turning him over and made off with their booty. When the Arabs had gone
their ways, Kamar al-Zaman arose, having naught left but the jewels in
his girdle, and fared on nor ceased faring till he came to Bassorah. It
chanced that his entry was on a Friday and the town was void of folk,
even as the Dervish had informed him. He found the market-streets
deserted and the shops wide open and full of goods; so he ate and drank
and looked about him. Presently, he heard a band of drums beating and
hid himself in a shop, till the slave-girls came up, when he looked at
them; and, seeing the young lady riding amongst them, love and longing
overcame him and desire and distraction overpowered him, so that he had
no force to stand. After awhile, the people reappeared and the bazars
filled. Whereupon he went to the market and repairing to a jeweller and
pulling out one of his forty gems sold it for a thousand dinars,
wherewith he returned to his place and passed the night there; and when
morning morrowed he changed his clothes and going to the Hammam came
forth as he were the full moon. Then he sold other four stones for four
thousand dinars and sauntered solacing himself about the main streets of
Bassorah, clad in the costliest of clothes; till he came to a market,
where he saw a barber’s shop. So he went in to the barber who shaved his
head; and, clapping up an acquaintance with him, said to him, “O my
father, I am a stranger in these parts and yesterday I entered this city
and found it void of folk, nor was there in it any living soul, man nor
Jinni. Then I saw a troop of slave-girls and amongst them a young lady
riding in state:” and he went on to tell him all he had seen. Said the
barber, “O my son, hast thou told any but me of this?”; and he said,
“No.” The other rejoined, “Then, O my son, beware thou mention this
before any but me; for all folk cannot keep a secret and thou art but a
little lad and I fear lest the talk travel from man to man, till it
reach those whom it concerneth and they slay thee. For know, O my son,
that this thou hast seen, none ever kenned nor knew in other than this
city. As for the people of Bassorah they are dying of this annoy; for
every Friday forenoon they shut up the dogs and cats, to hinder them
from going about the market-streets, and all the people of the city
enter the cathedral-mosques, where they lock the doors on them,[399] and
not one of them can pass about the bazar nor even look out of casement;
nor knoweth any the cause of this calamity. But, O my son, to-night I
will question my wife concerning the reason thereof, for she is a
midwife and entereth the houses of the notables and knoweth all the city
news. So Inshallah, do thou come to me to-morrow and I will tell thee
what she shall have told me.” With this Kamar al-Zaman pulled out a
handful of gold and said to him, “O my father, take this gold and give
it to thy wife, for she is become my mother.” Then he gave him a second
handful, saying, “Take this for thyself.” Whereupon quoth the barber, “O
my son, sit thou in thy place, till I go to my wife and ask her and
bring thee news of the true state of the case.” So saying, he left him
in the shop and going home, acquainted his wife with the young man’s
case, saying, “I would have thee tell me the truth of this
city-business, so I may report it to this young merchant, for he hath
set his heart on weeting the reason why men and beasts are forbidden the
market-streets every Friday forenoon; and methinks he is a lover, for he
is open-handed and liberal, and if we tell him what he would trow, we
shall get great good of him.” Quoth she, “Go back and say to him:—Come,
speak with thy mother, my wife, who sendeth her salam to thee and saith
to thee, Thy wish is won.” Accordingly he returned to the shop, where he
found Kamar al-Zaman sitting awaiting him and repeated him the very
words spoken by his spouse. Then he carried him in to her and she
welcomed him and bade him sit down; whereupon he pulled out an hundred
ducats and gave them to her, saying, “O my mother, tell me who this
young lady may be.” Said she, “Know, O my son, that there came a gem to
the Sultan of Bassorah from the King of Hind, and he was minded to have
it pierced. So he summoned all the jewellers in a body and said to them,
I wish you to drill me this jewel. Whoso pierceth it, I will give him
whatsoever he shall ask; but if he break it, I will cut off his head. At
this they were afraid and said, O King of the age, a jewel is soon
spoilt and there are few who can pierce them without injury, for most of
them have a flaw. So do not thou impose upon us a task to which we are
unable; for our hands cannot avail to drill this jewel. However, our
Shaykh[400] is more experienced than we.” Asked the King, “And who is
your Shaykh?”; and they answered, “Master Obayd: he is more versed than
we in this art and hath wealth galore and of skill great store.
Therefore do thou send for him to the presence and bid him pierce thee
this jewel.” Accordingly the King sent for Obayd and bade him pierce the
jewel, imposing on him the condition aforesaid. He took it and pierced
it to the liking of the King, who said to him, “Ask a boon of me, O
master!”; and said he, “O King of the age, allow me delay till
to-morrow.” Now the reason of this was that he wished to take counsel
with his wife, who is the young lady thou sawest riding in procession;
for he loveth her with exceeding love, and of the greatness of his
affection for her, he doth naught without consulting her; wherefore he
put off asking till the morrow. When he went home, he said to her:—“I
have pierced the King a jewel and he hath granted me a boon which I
deferred asking till to-morrow, that I might consult thee. Now what dost
thou wish, that I may ask it?” Quoth she, “We have riches such as fires
may not consume; but, an thou love me, ask of the King to make
proclamation in the streets of Bassorah that all the townsfolk shall
every Friday enter the mosques, two hours before the hour of prayer, so
none may abide in the town at all great or small except they be in the
mosques or in the houses and the doors be locked upon them, and that
every shop of the town be left open. Then will I ride with my
slave-women through the heart of the city and none shall look on me from
window or lattice; and every one whom I find abroad I will kill.”[401]
So he went in to the King and begged of him this boon, which he granted
him and caused proclamation to be made amongst the Bassorites——And
Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Now when it was the Nine Hundred and Sixty-eighth Night,
She continued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when the
Jeweller begged his boon, the King bade proclamation be made amongst the
Bassorites to the effect aforesaid, but the people objected that they
feared for their goods from the cats and dogs; wherefore he commanded to
shut the animals up till the folk should come forth from the Friday
prayers. So the jeweller’s wife fell to sallying forth every Friday, two
hours before the time of congregational prayer, and riding in state
through the city with her women; during which time none dareth pass
through the market-place nor look out of casement or lattice. “This,
then, is what thou wouldest know and I have told thee who she is; but, O
my son, was it thy desire only to have news of her or hast thou a mind
to meet her?” Answered he, “O my mother, ’tis my wish to foregather with
her.” Quoth she, “Tell me what valuables thou hast with thee”; and quoth
he, “O my mother, I have with me precious stones of four sorts, the
first worth five hundred dinars each, the second seven hundred, the
third eight hundred and the fourth a thousand ducats.” She asked, “Art
thou willing to spend four of these?”; and he answered, “I am ready to
spend all of them.” She rejoined, “Then, arise, O my son, and go
straight to thy lodging and take a bezel-gem of those worth five hundred
sequins, with which do thou repair to the jewel market and ask for the
shop of Master Obayd, the Shaykh of the Jewellers. Go thither and thou
wilt find him seated in his shop, clad in rich clothes, with workmen
under his hand. Salute him and sit down on the front shelf of his
shop;[402] then pull out the jewel and give it to him, saying, “O
master, take this stone and fashion it into a seal-ring for me with
gold. Make it not large, a Miskál[403] in weight and no more; but let
the fashion of it be thy fairest.” Then give him twenty dinars and to
each of his prentices a dinar. Sit with him awhile and talk with him and
if a beggar approach thee, show thy generosity by giving him a dinar, to
the intent that he may affect thee, and after this, leave him and return
to thy place. Pass the night there, and next morning, take an hundred
dinars and bring them and give them to thy father the barber, for he is
poor.” Quoth Kamar al-Zaman, “Be it so,” and returning to his
caravanserai, took a jewel worth five hundred gold pieces and went with
it to the jewel-bazar. There he enquired for the shop of Master Obayd,
Shaykh of the Jewellers, and they directed him thereto. So he went
thither and saw the Shaykh, a man of austere aspect and robed in
sumptuous raiment with four journeymen under his hand. He addressed him
with “Peace be upon you!” and the jeweller returned his greeting and
welcoming him, made him sit down. Then he brought out the jewel and
said, “O master, I wish thee to make me this jewel into a seal-ring with
gold. Let it be the weight of a Miskal and no more, but fashion it
excellently.” Then he pulled out twenty dinars and gave them to him,
saying, “This is the fee for chasing and the price of the ring shall
remain.”[404] And he gave each of the apprentices a gold piece,
wherefore they loved him, and so did Master Obayd. Then he sat talking
with the jeweller and whenever a beggar came up to him, he gave him a
gold piece and they all marvelled at his generosity. Now Master Obayd
had tools at home, like those he had in the shop, and whenever he was
minded to do any unusual piece of work, it was his custom to carry it
home and do it there, that his journeymen might not learn the secrets of
his wonderful workmanship.[405] His wife used to sit before him, and
when she was sitting thus and he looking upon her,[406] he would fashion
all manner of marvellously wroughten trinkets, such as were fit for none
but kings. So he went home and sat down to mould the ring with admirable
workmanship. When his wife saw him thus engaged, she asked him, “What
wilt thou do with this bezel-gem?”; and he answered, “I mean to make it
into a ring with gold, for ’tis worth five hundred dinars.” She
enquired, “For whom?”; and he answered, “For a young merchant, who is
fair of face, with eyes that wound with desire, and cheeks that strike
fire and mouth like the seal of Sulaymán and cheeks like the bloom of
Nu’mán and lips red as coralline and neck like the antelope’s long and
fine. His complexion is white dashed with red and he is well-bred,
pleasant and generous and doth thus and thus.” And he went on to
describe to her now his beauty and loveliness and then his perfection
and bounty and ceased not to vaunt his charms and the generosity of his
disposition, till he had made her in love with him; for there is no
sillier cuckold than he who vaunteth to his wife another man’s handsome
looks and unusual liberality in money matters. So, when desire rose high
in her, she said to him, “Is aught of my charms found in him?” Said he,
“He hath all thy beauties; and he is thy counterpart in qualities.
Meseemeth his age is even as thine and but that I fear to hurt thy
feelings, I would say that he is a thousand times handsomer than thou
art.” She was silent, yet the fire of fondness was kindled in her heart.
And the jeweller ceased not to talk with her and to set out Kamar
al-Zaman’s charms before her till he had made an end of moulding the
ring; when he gave it to her and she put it on her finger, which it
fitted exactly. Quoth she, “O my lord, my heart loveth this ring and I
long for it to be mine and will not take it from my finger.” Quoth he,
“Have patience! The owner of it is generous, and I will seek to buy it
of him, and if he will sell it, I will bring it to thee. Or if he have
another such stone, I will buy it and fashion it for thee into a ring
like this.”——And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying
her permitted say.
Now when it was the Nine Hundred and Sixty-ninth Night,
She pursued, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that the jeweller
said to his wife, “Have patience! The owner of it is generous and I will
seek to buy it of him; and, if he will sell it, I will bring it to thee;
or, if he have another such stone I will buy it and fashion it for thee
into a ring like this.” On this wise it fared with the jeweller and his
wife; but as regards Kamar al-Zaman, he passed the night in his lodging
and on the morrow he took an hundred dinars and carried them to the old
woman, the barber’s wife, saying to her, “Accept these gold pieces,” and
she replied, “Give them to thy father.” So he gave them to the barber
and she asked, “Hast thou done as I bade thee?” He answered, “Yes,” and
she said, “Go now to the Shaykh, the jeweller, and if he give thee the
ring, put it on the tip of thy finger and pull it off in haste and say
to him, O master, thou hast made a mistake; the ring is too tight. He
will say, O merchant, shall I break it and mould it again larger? And do
thou say, It booteth not to break it and fashion it anew. Take it and
give it to one of thy slave-women. Then pull out another stone worth
seven hundred dinars and say to him, Take this stone and set it for me,
for ’tis handsomer than the other. Give him thirty dinars and to each of
the prentices two, saying, These gold pieces are for the chasing and the
price of the ring shall remain. Then return to thy lodging for the night
and on the morrow bring me two hundred ducats, and I will complete thee
the rest of the device.” So the youth went to the jeweller, who welcomed
him and made him sit down in his shop; and he asked him, “Hast thou done
my need?” “Yes,” answered Obayd and brought out to him the seal-ring;
whereupon he set it on his finger-tip and pulling it off in haste,
cried, “Thou hast made a mistake, O master;” and threw it to him,
saying, “’Tis too strait for my finger.” Asked the jeweller, “O
merchant, shall I make it larger?” But he answered, “Not so; take it as
a gift and give it to one of thy slave-girls. Its worth is trifling,
some five hundred dinars; so it booteth not to fashion it over again.”
Then he brought out to him another stone worth seven hundred sequins and
said to him, “Set this for me: ’tis a finer gem.” Moreover he gave him
thirty dinars and to each of his workmen two. Quoth Obayd, “O my lord we
will take the price of the ring when we have made it.”[407] But Kamar
al-Zaman said, “This is for the chasing, and the price of the ring
remains over.” So saying, he went away home, leaving the jeweller and
his men amazed at the excess of his generosity. Presently the jeweller
returned to his wife and said, “O Halímah,[408] never did I set eyes on
a more generous than this young man, and as for thee, thy luck is good,
for he hath given me the ring without price, saying, Give it to one of
thy slave-women.” And he told her what had passed, adding, “Methinks
this youth is none of the sons of the merchants, but that he is of the
sons of the Kings and Sultans.” Now the more he praised him, the more
she waxed in love-longing, passion and distraction for him. So she took
the ring and put it on her finger, whilst the jeweller made another one,
a little larger than the first. When he had finished moulding it, she
put it on her finger, under the first, and said, “Look, O my lord, how
well the two rings show on my finger! I wish they were both mine.” Said
he, “Patience! It may be I shall buy thee this second one.” Then he lay
that night and on the morrow he took the ring and went to his shop. As
for Kamar al-Zaman, as soon as it was day, he repaired to the barber’s
wife and gave her two hundred dinars. Quoth she, “Go to the jeweller and
when he giveth thee the ring, put it on thy finger and pull it off again
in haste, saying:—Thou hast made a mistake, O master! This ring is too
large. A master like thee, when the like of me cometh to him with a
piece of work, it behoveth him to take right measure; and if thou hadst
measured my finger, thou hadst not erred. Then pull out another stone
worth a thousand dinars and say to him:—Take this and set it, and give
this ring to one of thy slave-women. Give him forty ducats and to each
of his journeyman three, saying, This is for the chasing, and for the
cost of the ring, that shall remain. And see what he will say. Then
bring three hundred dinars and give them to thy father the barber, that
he may mend his fortune withal, for he is a poor man.” Answered Kamar
al-Zaman, “I hear and obey,” and betook himself to the jeweller, who
welcomed him and making him sit down, gave him the ring. He took it and
put it on his finger; then pulled it off in haste and said, “It behoveth
a master like thee, when the like of me bringeth him a piece of work, to
take his measure. Hadst thou measured my finger, thou hadst not erred;
but take it and give it to one of thy slave-women.” Then he brought out
to him a stone worth a thousand sequins and said to him, “Take this and
set it in a signet-ring for me after the measure of my finger.” Quoth
Obayd, “Thou hast spoken sooth and art in the right;” and took his
measure, whereupon he pulled out forty gold pieces and gave them to him,
saying, “Take these for the chasing and the price of the ring shall
remain.” Cried the jeweller, “O my lord, how much hire have we taken of
thee! Verily, thy bounty to us is great!” “No harm,” replied Kamar
al-Zaman and sat talking with him awhile and giving a dinar to every
beggar who passed by the shop. Then he left him and went away, whilst
the jeweller returned home and said to his wife, “How generous is this
young merchant! Never did I set eyes on a more open-handed or a comelier
than he, no, nor a sweeter of speech.” And he went on to recount to her
his charms and generosity and was loud in his praise. Cried she, “O thou
lack-tact,[409] since thou notest these qualities in him, and indeed he
hath given thee two seal-rings of price, it behoveth thee to invite him
and make him an entertainment and entreat him lovingly. When he seest
that thou affectest him and cometh to our place, we shall surely get
great good of him; and if thou grudge him the banquet do thou bid him
and I will entertain him of my monies.” Quoth he, “Dost thou know me to
be niggardly, that thou sayest this Say?”; and quoth she, “Thou art no
niggard, but thou lackest tact. Invite him this very night and come not
without him. An he refuse, conjure him by the divorce oath and be
persistent with him.” “On my head and eyes,” answered he and moulded the
ring till he had finished it, after which he passed the night and went
forth on the morrow to his shop and sat there. On this wise it was with
him; but as for Kamar al-Zaman, he took three hundred dinars and
carrying them to the old wife, gave them to her for the barber, her
husband. Said she, “Most like he will invite thee to his house this day;
and if he do this and thou pass the night there, tell me in the morning
what befalleth thee and bring with thee four hundred dinars and give
them to thy father.” Answered he, “Hearing and obeying;” and as often as
he ran out of money, he would sell some of his stones. So he repaired to
the jeweller, who rose to him and received him with open arms, greeted
him heartily and clapped up companionship with him. Then he gave him the
ring, and he found it after the measure of his finger and said to the
jeweller, “Allah bless thee, O prince of artists! The setting is
conformable but the stone is not to my liking.”——And Shahrazad perceived
the dawn of day and ceased to say her permitted say.
Now when it was the Nine Hundred and Seventieth Night,