Wakhs El Fellat and Sudun, who came to pay their respects to the King.
The King invited them to sit down, but Sudun remained standing, and when
he asked him again, he replied, “You craven, was the world too narrow
for you that you desired my head as your daughter’s dowry?” “Sit down,”
said the King, “for I know that you are angry.” “How can I sit down,”
returned Sudun, “when you have ordered my death?” “God forbid that I
should act so unjustly,” said the King; “it was Sikar Diun.” “What,”
said he, “do you accuse me of such an action in my presence?” “Did you
not make this condition with Wakhs El Fellat,” said the King, “and send
him on his errand?” Sikar Diun then turned to Sudun, and said, “Sit
down, brave warrior, for we only did so from love to you, that we might
be able to make a treaty with you, and that you might join our company.”
After this answer, Sudun concealed his anger, and sat down. Refreshments
were now brought in, and after partaking of them, Wakhs El Fellat and
Sudun returned to their tents. Several days passed in this manner, and
at length Sudun said to Wakhs El Fellat, “O my master, it is time for
you to demand Shama in marriage, now you have won her with the edge of
the sword. You have fulfilled their conditions long since by bringing
them my head, but you have made no further progress at present. Ask for
her once more, and if they will not give her up, I will fall upon them
with the sword, and we will carry Shama off, and then lay waste the
city.” “I will demand her as my wife again to-morrow,” replied the
other. When he went to the palace next day, he found the King and all
the court assembled. When they saw him, they all rose from their seats,
and when they sat down again, he alone remained standing. “Why do you
not sit down,” said the King, “for all your wishes are now fulfilled?”
“I have still to ask for Shama,” he replied. “You know,” returned the
King, “that ever since her birth I have allowed Sikar Diun to make all
arrangements for her.” He now turned to Sikar Diun, who replied in a
friendly tone, “She is yours, for you have fulfilled the conditions, and
you have only now to give her ornaments.” “What kind of ornaments?”
asked he. “Instead of ornaments,” replied the traitor, “we desire to
receive a book containing the history of the Nile. If you bring it us,
she is wholly yours, but if not, there is no marriage to be thought of.”
“Where is it to be found?” “I cannot tell you myself.” “Well then,”
returned Wakhs El Fellat, “if I do not bring you the book, Shama is lost
to me; all present are witnesses to this.” He went out with these words,
pushing his way through the crowded assembly, and Sudun behind him, till
they reached their tents. “Why did you promise that,” said Sudun, “let
us rather overcome them with the sword, and take Shama from them.” “Not
so,” replied Wakhs El Fellat, “I will only possess her honourably.” “And
yet you do not even know how to find the book,” said Sudun; “rather
listen to my advice, retire to my fortress, and leave me in their
power.” “I would never act thus,” said Wakhs El Fellat, “though I should
suffer death.” After these and similar speeches, supper was brought in,
and each retired to his sleeping apartment. But Wakhs El Fellat had
scarcely entered his room when Shama came in. “What have you done,” said
she, “and what engagement have you undertaken? How can you fulfil this
condition? Do you not see that their only object is to destroy you, or
at least to get rid of you? I have come to warn you again, and I say to
you once more, take me with you to Sudun’s castle, where we can live at
peace, and do not act as they tell you.” “I will carry out my
engagement,” he replied; “I will not possess you like a coward, even
though I should be cut to pieces with swords.” Upon this, Shama was
angry and left him, while he lay down to rest, but could not sleep. He
therefore rose up, saddled and mounted his horse and rode away, without
knowing where, abandoning himself wholly to the will of God. He wandered
about thus for several days, until he reached a lonely tower. He knocked
at the door, and a voice answered, “Welcome O thou who hast separated
thyself from thy companions; enter without fear, O brave Saif, son of
Zul Yezn.” When he pushed the door it opened, and his eyes beheld a
noble and venerable old man, from whose appearance it was at once
obvious that he busied himself with the strictest life and fear of God.
“Welcome,” cried he again; “if you had travelled from east to west you
would have found no one who could show you how to obtain the book you
seek as well as I can, for I have dwelt here awaiting your arrival for
sixty years.” “But that was before I was born,” said Wakhs El Fellat to
himself. He then asked aloud, “By what name did you address me just
now?” “O Saif,” answered the old man, “that is your true name, for you
are a sword (Saíf) to the Abyssinians: but whom do you worship?” “O my
master,” was the reply, “the Abyssinians worship Saturn (Sukhal) but I
am in perplexity, and know not whom to worship.” “My son,” replied the
old man, “worship Him who has reared the heavens over us without
pillars, and who has rested the earth on water; the only and eternal
God, the Lord who is only and alone to be reverenced. I worship Him and
none other beside him, for I follow the religion of Abraham.” “What is
your name?” asked Wakhs El Fellat. “I am called Shaikh Gyat.” “What
declaration must I make,” he asked the old man, “to embrace your
religion?” “Say ‘There is no God but God, and Abraham is the Friend of
God.’ If you make this profession, you will be numbered among the
believers.” He at once repeated the formula, and Shaikh Gyat was much
pleased, and devoted the night to teaching him the history of Abraham
and his religion, and the forms of worship. Towards morning he said, “O
my son, whenever you advance to battle, say, ’God is great, grant me
victory, O God, and destroy the infidels,’ and help will be near you.
Now pursue your journey, but leave your horse here until your return.
Enter the valley before you, under the protection of God, and after
three days you will meet some one who will aid you.” Wakhs El Fellat set
out on that road, and after three days he met a horseman who saluted
him, and exclaimed, “Welcome, Saif Zul Yezn, for you bring happiness to
this neighbourhood.” Saif returned his salutation, and asked, “How do
you know me, and how do you know my name?” “I am not a brave or renowned
warrior,” was the answer, “but one of the maidens of this country and my
mother taught me your name.” “What is your name and that of your
mother?” “My mother’s name is Alka,” answered she, “and I am called
Taka.” When he heard this he was greatly rejoiced, for he remembered
that Shaikh Gyat had said to him, “O thou, whose destiny will be decided
by Alka and Taka.” “O noble virgin,” said he, “where is your mother,
Alka?” “Look round,” she replied; and he saw a very large and lofty city
at some distance. “Know,” said she, “that 360 experienced philosophers
dwell in that city. My mother Alka is their superior, and directs all
their affairs and actions. She knew that you would come to this
neighbourhood in search of a book concerning the Nile, which was written
by Japhet, the son of Noah, and she wishes you to attain your end by her
means. She also informed me of your coming, and promised me to you,
saying, ‘You shall have no other husband but him.’ We expected you
to-day, and she sent me to meet you, adding, ‘Warn him not to enter the
town by daylight, or it will be his destruction.’ Wait here, therefore,
till nightfall, and only approach the city after dark. Turn to the right
along the wall, and stand still when you reach the third tower, where we
will await you. As soon as we see you we will throw you a rope; bind it
round your waist, and we will draw you up. The rest will be easy.” “But
why need you give yourselves all this trouble?” said Saif Zul Yezn.
“Know,” replied she, “that the inhabitants of this city have been
informed of your approaching arrival by their books, and are aware that
you are about to carry away their book, which they hold in superstitious
reverence. On the first day of each month they repair to the building
where it is preserved; and they adore it and seek counsel from it
respecting their affairs. They have also a king whose name is Kamrun.
When they knew that you were coming for the book they constructed a
talisman against you. They have made a copper statue, and fixed a brazen
horn in its hand, and have stationed it at the gate of the city. If you
enter, the statue will sound the horn, and it will only do so upon your
arrival. They would then seize you and put you to death. On this account
we desire to baffle their wisdom, by drawing you up to the walls of the
city at another place.” “May God reward you a thousandfold,” replied he;
“but go now, and announce my arrival to your mother.” She went away, and
he approached the city in the darkness of night, and turned towards the
third tower on the right, where he found Alka and Taka. When they
recognised him, they immediately threw him the rope, which he fastened
about him. When he was drawn up, they descended from the wall, and were
about to proceed to Alka’s house, when the talisman suddenly acted, and
the statue blew the horn loudly. “Hasten to our house,” cried Alka; and
they succeeded in reaching it safely and barred the doors, when the
noise increased. The whole population of the city rose up, and the
streets were filled. “What is this disturbance about?” asked Saif. “This
is all due,” replied Alka, “to the alarm sounded by the statue, because
you have entered the town. There will be a great meeting held to-morrow,
where all the wise men will assemble, to attempt to discover the
whereabouts of the intruder; but by God’s help, I will guide them wrong,
and confuse their counsels. Go to our neighbour the fisherman,” added
she to her daughter, “and see what he has caught.” She went, and brought
news that he had taken a large fish, of the size of a man. “Take this
piece of gold,” said her mother, “and bring us the fish” and when she
did so, she told her to clean it, which was done. Food was then brought
in, and they ate and talked. The night passed quietly, but on the
following morning Alka ordered Saif Zul Yezn to undress, and to hide in
the skin of the fish. She put her mouth to the mouth of the fish, and
took a long rope, which she fastened under Saif’s armpits. She then let
him down into a deep well, and fastened him there, saying, “Remain here,
till I come back.” She then left him, and went to the great hall of the
King, where the divan was already assembled, and the King had taken his
seat on the throne. All rose up when she entered, and when she had
seated herself, the King said to her, “O mother, did you not hear the
blast of the horn yesterday, and why did you not come out with us?” “I
did hear it,” she replied, “but I did not heed it.” “But you know,” said
he, “that the sound can only be heard upon the arrival of the stranger
who desires to take the book.” “I know it, O King; but permit me to
choose forty men from among those assembled here.” She did so, and
selected ten from among the forty again. She then said to them, “Take a
Trakhtramml (sandboard) on which the Arabs practise geomancy and
notation, and look and search.” They did so, but had scarcely finished
when they looked at each other in amazement. They destroyed their
calculation, and began a second, and confused this too, and began a
third, upon which they became quite confounded. “What are you doing
there?” asked the King at last. “You go on working and obliterating your
work; what have you discovered?” “O King,” replied they, “we find that
the stranger has entered the town, but not by any gate. He appears to
have passed in between Heaven and earth, like a bird. After this, a fish
swallowed him, and carried him down into some dark water.” “Are you
fools?” asked the King angrily; and turning to Alka, continued, “Have
you ever seen a man flying between Heaven and earth, and afterwards
swallowed by a fish, which descends with him into dark water?” “O King,”
replied she, “I always forbid the wise men to eat heavy food, for it
disturbs their understanding and weakens their penetration; but they
will not heed me.” At this the King was angry, and immediately drove
them from the hall. But Alka said, “It will be plain to-morrow what has
happened.” She left the hall, and when she reached home, she drew Saif
Zul Yezn out of the well, and he dressed himself again. They sat down,
and Alka said, “I have succeeded in confounding their deliberations
to-day! and there will be a great assembly to-morrow, when I must hide
you in a still more out-of-the-way place.” After this they supped, and
went to rest. Next morning Alka called her daughter, and said, “Bring me
the gazelle.” When it was brought her, she said, “Bring me the wings of
an eagle.” Taka gave them to her, and she bound them on the back of the
gazelle. She then took a pair of compasses, which she fixed in the
ceiling of the room. She next took two other pairs of compasses, and
tied one between the fore feet, and the other between the hind feet of
the gazelle. She then tied a rope to the compasses in the roof, and the
two ends to the other pairs. But she made Saif Zul Yezn lie down in such
a position that his head was between the feet of the gazelle. She then
said to him, “Remain here till I come back”; and went to the King; with
whom she found a very numerous assemblage of the wise men. As soon as
she entered, the King made her sit beside him on the throne. “O my
mother Alka,” he said, “I could not close an eye last night from anxiety
concerning yesterday’s events.” “Have you no wise men,” returned she,
“who eat the bread of the divan?” She then turned to them, saying,
“Select the wisest among you!” and they chose the wisest among them. She
ordered them to take the sandboard again, but they became so confused
that they were obliged to begin again three times from the beginning.
“What do you discover?” said the King angrily. “O our master,” replied
they, “he whom we seek has been carried away by a beast of the desert,
which is flying with him between Heaven and earth.” “How is this?” said
the King to Alka; “have you ever seen anything like it?” He seized his
sword in a rage, and three fled, and he killed four of the others. When
Alka went home, she released Saif, and told him what had happened. Next
morning Alka took the gazelle, and slaughtered it in a copper kettle.
She then took a golden mortar, and reversed it over it, and said to Saif
Zul Yezn, “Sit on this mortar till I come back.” She then went to the
divan, and chose out six wise men, who again took the sandboard, and
began again three times over in confusion. “Alas,” said the King, in
anger, “What misfortune do you perceive?” “O our master,” they exclaimed
in consternation, “our understanding is confused, for we see him sitting
on a golden mountain, which is in the midst of a sea of blood,
surrounded by a copper wall.” The King was enraged, and broke up the
assembly, saying, “O Alka, I will now depend on you alone.” “To-morrow I
will attempt to show you the stranger,” she replied. When she came home,
she related to Saif what had happened and said, “I shall know by
to-morrow what to tell the King to engage his attention, and prevent him
from pursuing you.” Next morning she found Taka speaking to Saif Zul
Yezn alone; and she asked her, “What does he wish?” “Mother,” replied
Taka, “he wishes to go to the King’s palace, to see him and the divan.”
“What you wish shall be done,” said she to Saif, “but you must not
speak.” He assented to the condition, and she dressed him as her
attendant, gave him a sandboard, and went with him to the King, who said
to her, “I could not sleep at all last night, for thinking of the
stranger for whom we are seeking.” “Now that the affair is in my hands,”
returned she, “you will find me a sufficient protection against him.”
She immediately ordered Saif to give her the sandboard. She took it, and
when she had made her calculations, she said joyfully to the King, “O my
lord, I can give you the welcome news of the flight of the stranger,
owing to his dread of you and your revenge.” When the King heard this,
he rent his clothes, slapped his face, and said, “He would not have
departed, without having taken the book.” “I cannot see if he has taken
anything,” replied she. “This is the first of the month,” said the King,
“come and let us see if it is missing.” He then went with a large
company to the building where the book was kept. Alka turned away from
the King for a moment to say to Saif, “Do not enter with us, for if you
enter, the case will open of itself, and the book will fall into your
hands. This would at once betray you, and you would be seized and put to
death, and all my labour would have been in vain.” She then left him,
and rejoined the King. When they reached the building, the doors were
opened, and when the King entered, they found the book. They immediately
paid it the customary honours, and protracted this species of worship,
while Saif stood at the door, debating with himself whether to enter or
not. At last his impatience overcame him, and he entered, and at the
same instant the casket was broken to pieces, and the book fell out. The
King then ordered all to stand up, and the book rolled to Saif Zul Yezn.
Upon this all drew their swords, and rushed upon him. Saif drew his
sword also, and cried “God is great!” as Shaikh Gyat had taught him. He
continued to fight and defend himself, and struggled to reach the door.
The entire town arose in tumult to pursue him, when he stumbled over a
dead body, and was seized. “Let me not see his face,” cried the King,
“but throw him into the mine.” This mine was eighty yards deep, and had
not been opened for sixty years. It was closed by a heavy leaden cover,
which they replaced, after they had loaded him with chains, and thrown
him in. Saif sat there in the darkness, greatly troubled, and lamenting
his condition to Him who never sleeps. Suddenly, a side wall of the mine
opened, and a figure came forth which approached and called him by his
name. “Who are you?” asked Saif. “I am a woman named Akissa, and inhabit
the mountain where the Nile rises. We are a nation who hold the faith of
Abraham. A very pious man lives below us in a beautiful palace. But an
evil Jinni named Mukhtatif lived near us also, who loved me, and
demanded me in marriage of my father. He consented from fear, but I was
unwilling to marry an evil being who was a worshipper of fire. ‘How can
you promise me in marriage to an infidel?’ said I to my father. ‘I shall
thereby escape his malice myself,’ replied he. I went out and wept, and
complained to the pious man about the affair. ‘Do you know who will kill
him?’ said he to me, and I answered, ‘No.’ ‘I will direct you to him who
has cut off his hand,’ said he. ‘His name is Saif Zul Yezn, and he is
now in the city of King Kamrun, in the mine.’ Thereupon he brought me to
you, and I come as you see me, to guide you to my country, that you may
kill Mukhtatif, and free the earth from his wickedness.” She then moved
him, and shook him, and all his chains fell off. She lifted him on her
shoulders, and carried him to the palace of the Shaikh, who was named
Abbas Salam. Here he heard a voice crying, “Enter, Saif Zul Yezn.” He
did so, and found a grave and venerable old man, who gave him a very
friendly reception; saying, “Wait till to-morrow, when Akissa will come
to guide you to the castle of Mukhtatif.” He remained with him for the
night, and when Akissa arrived next morning, the old man told her to
hasten, that the world might be soon rid of the monster. They then left
this venerable man, and when they had walked awhile, Akissa said to
Saif, “Look before you.” He did so, and perceived a black mass at some
distance. “This is the castle of the evil-doer,” said she, “but I cannot
advance a step further than this.” Saif therefore pursued his way alone,
and when he came near the castle, he walked round it to look for the
entrance. As he was noticing the extraordinary height of the castle,
which was founded on the earth, but appeared to overtop the clouds, he
saw a window open, and several people looked out, who pointed at him
with their fingers, exclaiming, “That is he, that is he!” They threw him
a rope, which they directed him to bind round him. They drew him up by
it, when he found himself in the presence of three hundred and sixty
damsels, who saluted him by his name.
* * * * *
(Here Habicht’s fragment ends.)
_SCOTT’S MSS. AND TRANSLATIONS._
In 1800, Jonathan Scott, LL.D., published a volume of “Tales, Anecdotes,
and Letters, translated from the Arabic and Persian,” based upon a
fragmentary MS., procured by J. Anderson in Bengal, which included the
commencement of the work (Nos. 1–3) in 29 Nights; two tales not divided
into Nights (Nos. 264 and 135) and No. 21.
Scott’s work includes these two new tales (since republished by Kirby
and Clouston), with the addition of various anecdotes, &c. derived from
other sources. The “Story of the Labourer and the Chair” has points of
resemblance to that of “Malek and the Princess Chirine” (Shirin?) in the
Thousand and One Days; and also to that of “Tuhfet El Culoub” (No. 183a)
in the Breslau Edition. The additional tales in this MS. and vol. of
translations are marked “A” under Scott in our Tables. Scott published
the following specimens (text and translation) in Ouseley’s Oriental
Collections (1797 and following years) No. 135m (i. pp. 245–257) and
Introduction (ii. pp. 160–172; 228–257). The contents are fully given in
Ouseley, vol. ii. pp. 34, 35.
Scott afterwards acquired an approximately complete MS. in 7 vols.,
written in 1764, which was brought from Turkey by E. Wortley Montague.
Scott published a table of contents (Ouseley, ii. pp. 25–34), in which,
however, the titles of some few of the shorter tales, which he
afterwards translated from it, are omitted, while the titles of others
are differently translated. Thus “Greece” of the Table becomes “Yemen”
in the translation; and “labourer” becomes “sharper.” As a specimen, he
subsequently printed the text and translation of No. 145 (Ouseley, ii.
pp. 349–367).
This MS., which differs very much from all others known, is now in the
Bodleian Library at Oxford.
In 1811, Scott published an edition of the Arabian Nights’
Entertainments, in 6 vols., vol. 1 containing a long introduction, and
vol. 6, including a series of new tales from the Oxford MS. (There is a
small paper edition; and also a large paper edition, the latter with
frontispieces). It had originally been Scott’s intention to retranslate
the MS.; but he appears to have found it beyond his powers. He therefore
contented himself with re-editing Galland, altering little except the
spelling of the names, and saying that Galland’s version is in the main
so correct that it would be useless repetition to go over the work
afresh. Although he says that he found many of the tales both immoral
and puerile, he translated most of those near the beginning, and omitted
much more (including several harmless and interesting tales, such as No.
152) towards the end of his MS. than near the beginning. The greater
part of Scott’s additional tales, published in vol. 6, are included in
the composite French and German editions of Gauttier and Habicht; but,
except Nos. 208, 209, and 215, republished in my “New Arabian Nights,”
they have not been reprinted in England, being omitted in all the many
popular versions which are professedly based upon Scott, even in the
edition in 4 vols., published in 1882, which reprints Scott’s Preface.
The edition of 1882 was published about the same time as one of the
latest re-issues of Lane’s Thousand and One Nights; and the _Saturday
Review_ of Nov. 4, 1882 (p. 609) published an article on the Arabian
Nights, containing the following amusing passage: “Then Jonathan Scott,
LL.D. Oxon, assures the world that he intended to retranslate the tales
given by Galland; but he found Galland so adequate on the whole that he
gave up the idea, and now reprints Galland, with etchings by M. Lalauze,
giving a French view of Arab life. Why Jonathan Scott, LL.D., should
have thought to better Galland, while Mr. Lane’s version is in
existence, and has just been reprinted, it is impossible to say.”
The most interesting of Scott’s additional tales, with reference to
ordinary editions of The Nights, are as follows:—
No. 204b is a variant of No. 37.
No. 204c is a variant of 3c, in which the wife, instead of the husband,
acts the part of a jealous tyrant. (Compare Cazotte’s story of
Halechalbe).
No. 204e. Here we have a reference to the Nesnás, which only appears
once in the ordinary versions of The Nights (No. 132b; Burton, v., p.
333).
No. 206b is a variant of No. 156.
No. 207c. This relates to a bird similar to that in the Jealous Sisters
(No. 198), and includes a variant of 3ba.
No. 207h. Another story of enchanted birds. The prince who seeks them
encounters an “Oone” under similar circumstances to those under which
Princess Parizade (No. 198) encounters the old durwesh. The description
is hardly that of a Marid, with which I imagine the Ons are wrongly
identified.
No. 208 contains the nucleus of the famous story of Aladdin (No. 193.)
No. 209 is similar to No. 162; but we have again the well incident of
No. 3ba, and the exposure of the children as in No. 198.
No. 215. Very similar to Hasan of Bassorah (No. 155). As Sir R. F.
Burton (vol. viii. p. 60, note), has called in question my
identification of the Islands of Wák-Wák, with the Aru Islands near New
Guinea, I will quote here the passages from Mr. A. R. Wallace’s Malay
Archipelago (chap. 31) on which I based it:—“The trees frequented by the
birds are very lofty.... One day I got under a tree where a number of
the Great Paradise birds were assembled, but they were high up in the
thickest of the foliage, and flying and jumping about so continually
that I could get no good view of them.... Their voice is most
extraordinary. At early morn, before the sun has risen, we hear a loud
cry of ‘Wawk—wawk—wawk, wŏk—wŏk—wŏk,’ which resounds through the forest,
changing its direction continually. This is the Great Bird of Paradise
going to seek his breakfast.... The birds had now commenced what the
people here call their ‘sacaleli,’ or dancing-parties, in certain trees
in the forest, which are not fruit-trees as I at first imagined, but
which have an immense head of spreading branches and large but scattered
leaves, giving a clear space for the birds to play and exhibit their
plumes. On one of these trees a dozen or twenty full-plumaged male birds
assemble together, raise up their wings, stretch out their necks, and
elevate their exquisite plumes, keeping them in a continual vibration.
Between whiles they fly across from branch to branch in great
excitement, so that the whole tree is filled with waving plumes in every
variety of attitude and motion.”
No. 216bc appears to be nearly the same as No. 42.
No. 225 is a variant of No. 135q.
_WEIL’S TRANSLATION._
The only approximately complete original German translation is “Tausend
und eine Nacht. Arabische Erzählungen. Zum Erstenmale aus dem Urtexte
vollständig und treu übersetzt von Dr. Gustav Weil,” four vols.,
Stuttgart. The first edition was in roy. 8vo, and was published at
Stuttgart and Pforzheim in 1839–1842; the last volume I have not seen;
it is wanting in the copy in the British Museum. This edition is divided
into Nights, and includes No. 25b. In the later editions, which are in
small square 8vo, but profusely illustrated, like the larger one, this
story is omitted (except No. 135m, which the French editors include with
it), though Galland’s doubtful stories are retained; and there is no
division into Nights. The work has been reprinted several times, and the
edition quoted in our Table is described as “Zweiter Abdruck der dritten
vollstandig umgearbeiteten, mit Anmerkungen und mit einer Einleitung
versehenen Auflage” (1872).
Weil has not stated from what sources he drew his work, except that No.
201 is taken from a MS. in the Ducal Library at Gotha. This is
unfortunate, as his version of the great transformation scene in No. 3b
(Burton, vol. i. pp. 134, 135), agrees more closely with Galland than
with any other original version. In other passages, as when speaking of
the punishment of Aziz (No. 9a, aa), Weil seems to have borrowed an
expression from Lane, who writes “a cruel wound;” Weil saying “a severe
(schwere) wound.”
Whereas Weil gives the only German version known to me of No. 9 (though
considerably abridged) he omits many tales contained in Zinserling and
Habicht, but whether because his own work was already too bulky, or
because his original MSS. did not contain them, I do not know; probably
the first supposition is correct, for in any case it was open to him to
have translated them from the printed texts, to which he refers in his
Preface.
Two important stories (Nos. 200 and 201) are not found in any other
version; but as they are translated in my “New Arabian Nights,” I need
not discuss them here. I will, however, quote a passage from the story
of Judar and Mahmood, which I omitted because it is not required by the
context, and because I thought it a little out of place in a book
published in a juvenile series. It is interesting from its analogy to
the story of Semele.
When King Kashuk (a jinni) is about to marry the daughter of King
Shamkoor, we read (New Arabian Nights, p. 182), “Shamkoor immediately
summoned my father, and said, ‘Take my daughter, for you have won her
heart.’ He immediately provided an outfit for his daughter, and when it
was completed, my father and his bride rode away on horseback, while the
trousseau of the Princess followed on three hundred camels.” The passage
proceeds (the narrator being Daruma, the offspring of the marriage),
“When my father had returned home, and was desirous of celebrating his
marriage (his Wazir) Kandarin said to him, ‘Your wife will be destroyed
if you touch her, for you are created of fire, and she is created of
earth, which the fire devours. You will then bewail her death when it is
too late. To-morrow,’ continued he, ‘I will bring you an ointment with
which you must rub both her and yourself; and you may then live long and
happily together.’ On the following day he brought him a white ointment,
and my father anointed himself and his bride with it, and consummated
his marriage without danger.”
I may add that this is the only omission of the smallest consequence in
my rendering of either story.
I have heard from more than one source that a complete German
translation of The Nights was published, and suppressed; but I have not
been able to discover the name of the author, the date, or any other
particulars relating to the subject.
_VON HAMMER’S MS., AND THE TRANSLATIONS DERIVED FROM IT._
Several complete copies of The Nights were obtained by Europeans about
the close of the last or the beginning of the present century; and one
of these (in 4 vols.) fell into the hands of the great German
Orientalist, Joseph von Hammer. This MS. agrees closely with the printed
Bul. and Mac. texts, as well as with Dr. Clarke’s MS., though the names
of the tales sometimes vary a little. One story, “The two Wazirs,” given
in Von Hammer’s list as inedited, no doubt by an oversight, is evidently
No. 7, which bears a similar title in Torrens. One title, “Al Kavi,” a
story which Von Hammer says was published in “Mag. Encycl.,” and in
English (probably by Scott in Ouseley’s Oriental Collections, vide anteà
p. 491) puzzled me for some time; but from its position, and the title I
think I have identified it as No. 145, and have entered it as such. No.
9a in this as well as in several other MSS., bears the title of the Two
Lovers, or of the Lover and the Beloved.
Von Hammer made a French translation of the unpublished tales, which he
lent to Caussin de Perceval, who extracted from it four tales only (Nos.
21a, 22, 32 and 37), and only acknowledged his obligations in a general
way to a distinguished Orientalist, whose name he pointedly suppressed.
Von Hammer, naturally indignant, reclaimed his MS., and had it
translated into German by Zinserling. He then sent the French MS. to De
Sacy, in whose hands it remained for some time, although he does not
appear to have made any use of it, when it was despatched to England for
publication; but the courier lost it on the journey, and it was never
recovered.
Zinserling’s translation was published under the title, “Der Tausend und
einen Nacht noch nicht übersetzte Mährchen, Erzählungen und Anekdoten,
zum erstenmale aus dem Arabischen in’s Französische übersetzt von Joseph
von Hammer, und aus dem Französischen in’s Deutsche von Aug. E.
Zinserling, Professor.” (3 vols., Stuttgart and Tübingen, 1823.) The
introductory matter is of considerable importance, and includes notices
of 12 different MSS., and a list of contents of Von Hammer’s MS. The
tales begin with No. 23, Nos. 9–19 being omitted, because Von Hammer was
informed that they were about to be published in France. (This possibly
refers to Asselan Riche’s “Scharkan,” published in 1829.) The tales and
anecdotes in this edition follow the order of The Nights. No. 163 is
incomplete, Zinserling giving only the commencement; and two other tales
(Nos. 132b and 168) are related in such a confused manner as to be
unintelligible, the former from transposition (perhaps in the sheets of
the original MS.) and the latter from errors and omissions. On the other
hand, some of the tales (No. 137 for instance) are comparatively full
and accurate.
A selection from the longer tales was published in English in 3 vols. in
1826, under the title of “New Arabian Nights Entertainments, selected
from the original Oriental MS. by Jos. von Hammer, and now first
translated into English by the Rev. George Lamb.” I have only to remark
that No. 132b is here detached from its connection with No. 132, and is
given an independent existence.
A complete French re-translation of Zinserling’s work, also in 3 vols.,
by G. S. Trébutien (Contes inédits des Mille et une Nuits) was published
in Paris in 1828; but in this edition the long tales are placed first,
and all the anecdotes are placed together last.
The various MSS. mentioned by Von Hammer are as follows:—
I. Galland’s MS. in Paris.
II. Another Paris MS., containing 870 Nights. (No. 9 is specially
noticed as occurring in it.) This seems to be the same as a MS.
subsequently mentioned by Von Hammer as consulted by Habicht.
III. Scott’s MS. (Wortley Montague).
IV. Scott’s MS. (Anderson).
V. Dr. Russell’s MS. from Aleppo (224 Nights).
VI. Sir W. Jones’ MS., from which Richardson extracted No. 6ee for
his grammar.
VII. A MS. at Vienna (200 Nights).
VIII. MS. in Italinski’s collection.
IX. Clarke’s MS.
X. An Egyptian MS. at Marseilles.
XI. Von Hammer’s MS.
XII. Habicht’s MS. (= Bres. text).
XIII. Caussin’s MS.
XIV. De Sacy’s MS.
XV. One or more MSS. in the Vatican.
_TRANSLATIONS OF THE PRINTED TEXTS._
These are noticed by Sir R. F. Burton in his “Foreword” (vol. 1, pp.
xi.-xiii.) and consequently can be passed over with a brief mention
here.
Torrens’ edition (vol. 1) extends to the end of Night 50 (Burton, in p.
118).
Lane’s translation originally appeared in monthly half-crown parts, from
1839 to 1841. It is obvious that he felt himself terribly restricted in
space; for the third volume, although much thicker than the others, is
not only almost destitute of notes towards the end, but the author is
compelled to grasp at every excuse to omit tales, even excluding No.
168, which he himself considered “one of the most entertaining tales in
the work,” (chap. xxix., note 12) on account of its resemblance to Nos.
1b and 3d. Part of the matter in Lane’s own earlier notes is apparently
derived from No. 132a, which he probably did not at first intend to
omit. Sir R. F. Burton has taken 5 vols. to cover the same ground which
Lane has squeezed into his vol. 3. But it is only fair to Lane to remark
that in such cases the publisher is usually far more to blame than the
author.