Numerous as are the editions of the Arabian Nights’
Entertainments, and frequently as they have received the
embellishments of the artist, yet an Edition was still wanting, more
easily accessible to the general reader, and which, while it
combined economy, should not be deficient in elegance or
illustration. To supply this chasm in the Literature of Romance, is
the object of the Edition now offered to the public; and it can
scarcely be necessary to observe, that although the Engravings are
more numerous than in any preceding Edition, the vigour and spirit
with which they are executed, will recommend them even to the
admirers of the arts. These Engravings, the whole of which are from
original designs, made expressly for this work, are nearly one
hundred in number. The subjects have been very happily selected, and
it will be seen with how much skill the Artist has embodied the
humour and spirit of the Author. Under these circumstances, the
Publisher has no doubt but that he will enjoy the double
gratification of giving to the public the cheapest Edition of the
Thousand and One Tales of the inimitable Oriental Story Teller, and
of supplying a work, which, in point of embellishment, may be found
worthy of a place in the best libraries.
Of the merits of the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments, their
popularity would be sufficient evidence alone, had not the language
of praise both in poetry and prose, long been exhausted on them.
They are still the admiration of every person who can appreciate
curious and useful information conveyed through the medium of
fiction. “They are,” says Colonel Capper, in his Observations on
the Passage to India, “by many people erroneously supposed to be a
spurious production, and are therefore slighted in a manner they do
not deserve. They were written by an Arabian, and are universally
read and admired throughout Asia by all ranks of men, both old and
young: considered, therefore, as an original work, descriptive as
they are of the manners and customs of the East in general, and also
of the Arabians in particular, they surely must be thought to merit
the attention of the curious; nor are they, in my opinion, destitute
of merit in other respects: for, although the extravagance of some
of the stories is carried too far, yet, on the whole, one cannot
help admiring the fancy and invention of the author, in striking out
such a variety of pleasing incidents; pleasing I will call them,
because they have frequently afforded me much amusement; nor do I
envy any man his feelings, who is above being pleased with them. But
before any person decides upon the merit of these books, he should
be eye-witness of the effect they produce on those who best
understand them. I have more than once seen the Arabians in the
desert sitting round a fire listening to these stories with such
attention and pleasure, as totally to forget the fatigue and
hardship with which an instant before they were entirely overcome.
In short, not to dwell any longer on this subject, they are in the
same estimation all over Asia, that the adventures of Don Quixote
are in Spain; and it is presumed, no man of genius or taste would
think of making the tour of that country without previously reading
the work of Cervantes.”
Nor is the picture of Oriental manners and customs, as exhibited in
the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments, that of a remote age; on the
contrary, Mr. Dallaway, one of the recent travellers in the East, in
his “Constantinople Ancient and Modern,” says, “Much of the
romantic air which pervades the domestic habits of the persons
described in the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments, particularly in
inferior life, will be observed in passing through the streets of
that city. And we receive with additional pleasure a remembrance of
the delight with which we at first perused them, in finding them
authentic portraits of every Oriental nation.”
Mr. Hole, in his remarks on these Tales, considers the Sindbad as
the Arabian Odyssey, and as descriptive of real places and manners;
and he takes no small pains to ascertain the precise local
situations of the islands which Sindbad is supposed to visit; but
the beauties of the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments have never been
better described than in the following Sonnet to the Author, by Mr.
Thomas Russell, Fellow of New College, Oxford:
“Blessed child of Genius, whose fantastic sprite
Rides on the vivid lightning’s flash, or roves
Through flowery valleys and elysian groves;
Or, borne on vent’rous pinions, takes its flight
To those dread realms, where, hid from mortal sight,
Fierce Genii roam, or where in bright alcoves
Mild Fairies reign, and woo their secret loves:
Whate’er thy theme, whether the magic might
Of the stern kings that dwell ’mid Ocean’s roar,
Or Sindbad’s perils, or the cruel wiles
Of Afric’s curst enchanters, charm us more,
Or aught more wond’rous still our ear beguiles;
Well pleased we listen to thy fabling lore,
And Truth itself with less attraction smiles.”
The present translation is from the _Contes Arabes_ of M. Galland,
who appears to have imbibed no inconsiderable portion of the spirit
of the Oriental writer; and the utmost care has been taken to render
it as correct as possible, consistent with the simplicity of the
narration, and the luxuriance of its descriptions.
Although it cannot now be necessary to enter into a critical
examination of a work which is equally admired by the learned and
the unlearned, the young and the old, yet as the Genii and Fairies
form so considerable a part of the machinery of these Tales, it may
not be improper to say something respecting them.
The _Genn_ or _Ginn_ of the Arabians, is the same with the _Div_ or
_Ganman_ of the Persians, the _Deuta_ of the Indians, and the
Turks’ _Ginler_, and signifies a genie or demon, who has a body
formed of a more subtle matter than those of men, and like
elementary fire. They are supposed to have been created and to have
governed the world before Adam, and are divided into good and evil
angels, and even giants, who, in the early times, made war against
men, but have since been confined to one region, denominated from
them _Gimristan_, the fairy land of our old romances. _Gian ben
Gian_ was the sovereign of these creatures, or of the _Peris_ or
fairies, who governed the world two thousand years; after which
Eblis was sent by God to drive them into a distant part of the
world, and there confine them, because of their rebellion. The
shield of this prince is as famous as that of Achilles among the
Greeks, and, like it, seven-fold and destructive of all
enchantments, and was possessed by three successive Solomons, who
performed with it marvellous but fabulous exploits, and fell at last
into the hands of a hero named Tahmurath, surnamed _Divbend_, or the
Conqueror of Giants.
Solomon, the son of David, is said by the eastern historians to have
had not only men, but good and evil spirits, the birds and the
winds, subjected to him by God; and to have been possessed of a ring
of wonderful virtues, which seems to be nothing more than the
extraordinary wisdom with which he was divinely endowed. All that we
find in these writers about the marvellous actions and unrivalled
empire of Solomon over men and devils, is drawn from the Scripture
account of the extraordinary wisdom, and virtues, and throne of this
monarch.
_Peri_ are those beautiful creatures, which are neither men, angels,
nor devils. Some have supposed them the female genies, but the
_Peris_ are of both sexes, and are good beings; on whom the _Div_ or
genies frequently make war, and shut up their prisoners in cages
suspended on the highest trees, where their companions come and feed
them with the finest odours, which are their common food, and defend
them from the _Div_, who feel a sudden change to melancholy as soon
as they approach them.
_Benon_, or _Beni al Giam_, is another name for these good spirits,
who separated from the rebellious ones headed by Eblis or Lucifer.
--D’Herbelot, voc. _Genn, Gian, Peri. Solomon_.
ARABIAN NIGHTS’
ENTERTAINMENTS.
The chronicles of the Sussanians, the ancient kings of Persia, who
extended their empire into the Indies, over all the islands
thereunto belonging, a great way beyond the Ganges, and as far as
China, acquaint us, that there was formerly a king of that potent
family, the most excellent prince of his time: he was as much
beloved by his subjects for his wisdom and prudence, as he was
dreaded by his neighbours, because of his valour, and his warlike
and well disciplined troops. He had two sons; the eldest, Schahriar,
the worthy heir of his father, and endowed with all his virtues. The
youngest, Schahzenan, was likewise a prince of incomparable merit.
After a long and glorious reign, this king died, and Schahriar
mounted his throne. Schahzenan, being excluded from all share of the
government by the laws of the empire, and obliged to live a private
life, was so far from envying the happiness of his brother, that he
made it his whole business to please him, and effected it without
much difficulty. Schahriar, who had naturally a great affection for
that prince, was so charmed with his complaisance, that out of an
excess of friendship, he would needs divide his dominions with him,
and gave him the kingdom of Great Tartary. Schahzenan went
immediately, and took possession of it, and fixed the seat of his
government at Samarcande, the metropolis of the country.
After they had been separated ten years, Schahriar, having a
passionate desire to see his brother, resolved to send an ambassador
to invite him to his court. He made choice of his prime vizier for
the embassy, sent him to Tartary with a retinue answerable to his
dignity, and he made all possible haste to Samarcande. When he came
near the city, Schahzenan had notice of it, and went to meet him
with the principal lords of his court, who, to put the more honour
on the sultan’s minister, appeared in magnificent apparel. The
king of Tartary received the ambassador with the greatest
demonstrations of Joy; and immediately asked him concerning the
welfare of the sultan his brother. The vizier having acquainted him
that he was in health, gave him an account of his embassy.
Schahzenan was so much affected with it, that he answered thus:--
Sage vizier, the sultan, my brother, does me too much honour; he
could propose nothing in the world so acceptable; I long as
passionately to see him, as he does to see me. Time has been no more
able to diminish my friendship than his. My kingdom is in peace, and
I desire no more than ten days to get myself ready to go with you;
so that there is no necessity for your entering the city for so
short a time; I pray you to pitch your tents here, and I will order
provisions in abundance for yourself and your company.
The vizier did accordingly, and as soon as the king returned, he
sent him a prodigious quantity of provisions of all sorts, with
presents of great value.
In the meanwhile, Schahzenan made ready for his journey, took orders
about his meet important affairs, appointed a council to govern in
his absence, and named a minister, of whose wisdom he had sufficient
experience, and in whom he had an entire confidence, to be their
president. At the end of ten days, his equipage being ready, he took
his leave of the queen his wife, and went out of town in the evening
with his retinue, pitched his royal pavilion near the vizier’s
tent, and discoursed with that ambassador till midnight. But willing
once more to embrace the queen, whom he loved entirely, he returned
alone to his palace, and went straight to her majesty’s apartment,
who, not expecting his return, had taken one of the meanest officers
of her household to her bed, where they lay both fast to sleep,
having been in bed a considerable while.
The king entered without any noise, and pleased himself to think how
he should surprise his wife, who, he thought, loved him as entirely
as he did her: but how great was his surprise, when by the light of
the flambeaux, which burn all night in the apartments of those
eastern princes, he saw a man in her arms! He stood immoveable for a
time, not knowing how to believe his own eyes; but, finding that it
was not to be doubted, How! says he to himself, I am scarce out of
my palace, and but just under the walls of Samarcande, and dare they
put such an outrage upon me! Ah! perfidious wretches! your crime
shall not go unpunished. As king, I am to punish wickedness
committed in my dominions; and as an enraged husband, I must
sacrifice you to my just resentment. In a word, this unfortunate
prince, giving way to his rage, drew his scimitar, and, approaching
the bed, killed them both with one blow, turning their sleep into
death; and afterwards taking them up, threw them out of a window,
into the ditch that surrounded the palace.
Having avenged himself thus, he went out of town privately, as he
came into it; and, returning to his pavilion, without saying one
word of what had happened, he ordered the tents to be struck, and to
make ready for his journey. This was speedily done; and before day
he began his march, with kettle-drums and other instruments of
music, that filled every one with joy, except the king, who was so
much troubled at the disloyalty of his wife, that he was seized with
extreme melancholy, which preyed upon him during his whole journey.
When he drew near the capital of the Indies, the sultan Schahriar
and all his court came out to meet him; and the princes were
overjoyed to see one another, and alighting, after mutual embraces,
and other marks of affection and respect, they mounted again, and
entered the city, with the acclamations of vast multitudes of
people. The sultan conducted his brother to the palace he had
provided for him, which had a communication with his own, by means
of a garden; and was so much the more magnificent, that it was set
apart as a banqueting-house for public entertainments, and other
diversions of the court, and the splendour of it had been lately
augmented by new furniture.
Schahriar immediately left the king of Tartary, that he might give
him time to bathe himself, and to change his apparel; and as soon as
he had done, he came to him again, and they sat down together upon a
sofa or alcove. The courtiers kept at a distance, out of respect,
and those two princes entertained one another suitably to their
friendship, their nearness of blood, and the long separation that
had passed betwixt them. The time of supper being come, they ate
together, after which they renewed their conversation, which
continued till Schahriar, perceiving that it was very late, left his
brother to rest.
The unfortunate Schahzenan went to bed; and though the conversation
of his brother had suspended his grief for some time, it returned
upon him with more violence; so that, instead of taking his
necessary rest, he tormented himself with cruel reflections. All the
circumstances of his wife’s disloyalty presented themselves afresh
to his imagination, in so lively a manner, that he was like one
beside himself. In a word, not being able to sleep, he got up, and
giving himself over to afflicting thoughts, they made such an
impression upon his countenance, that the sultan could not but take
notice of it, and said thus to himself: What can be the matter with
the king of Tartary, that he is so melancholy? Has he any cause to
complain of his reception? No, surely; I have received him as a
brother whom I love, so that I can charge myself with no omission in
that respect. Perhaps it grieves him to be at such a distance from
his dominions, or from the queen his wife. Alas! if that be the
matter, I must forthwith give him the presents I designed for him,
that he may return to Samarcande when he pleases. Accordingly, next
day Schahriar sent him part of those presents, being the greatest
rarities and the richest things that the Indies could afford. At the
same time he endeavoured to divert his brother every day, by new
objects of pleasure, and the finest treats; which, instead of giving
the king of Tartary any ease, only increased his sorrow.
One day, Schahriar, having appointed a great hunting match, about
two days’ journey from his capital, in a place that abounded with
deer, Schahzenan prayed him to excuse him, for his health would not
allow him to bear him company. The sultan, unwilling to put any
constraint upon him, left him at his liberty, and went a hunting
with his nobles. The king of Tartary being thus left alone, shut
himself up in his apartment, and sat down at a window that looked
into the garden. That delicious place, and the sweet harmony of an
infinite number of birds which chose it for a place of retreat, must
certainly have diverted him, had he been capable of taking pleasure
in any thing; but being perpetually tormented with the fatal
remembrance of his queen’s infamous conduct, his eyes were not so
often fixed upon the garden, as lifted up to heaven to bewail his
misfortunes.
While he was thus swallowed up with grief, an object presented
itself to his view, which quickly turned all his thoughts another
way. A secret gate of the sultan’s palace opened all of a sudden,
and there came out of it twenty women, in the midst of whom walked
the sultaness, who was easily distinguished from the rest by her
majestic air. The princess, thinking that the king of Tartary was
gone a hunting with his brother the sultan, came up with her retinue
near the windows of his apartment; for the prince had placed himself
so that he could see all that passed in the garden, without being
perceived himself. He observed, that the persons who accompanied the
sultaness threw off their veils and long robes, that they might be
at more freedom; but was wonderfully surprised when he saw ten of
them to be blacks, and that each of them took his mistress. The
sultaness, on her part, was not long without her gallant. She
clapped her hands, and called Masoud, Masoud; and immediately a
black came down from a tree, and ran to her in all haste.
Modesty will not allow, nor is it necessary, to relate what passed
between the blacks and the ladies. It is sufficient to say, that
Schahzenan saw enough to convince him that his brother was as much
to be pitied as himself. This amorous company continued together
till midnight, and having bathed all together, in a great piece of
water which was one of the chief ornaments of the garden, they
dressed themselves, and re-entered the palace by the secret door,
all except Masoud, who climbed up his tree, and got over the garden
wall the same way as he came in.
All this having passed in the king of Tartary’s sight, occasioned
him to make a multitude of reflections. How little reason had I,
says he, to think that no one was so unfortunate as myself! It is
certainly the unavoidable fate of all husbands, since the sultan, my
brother, who is sovereign of so many dominions, and the greatest
prince of the earth, could not escape it. The case being so, what a
fool am I to kill myself with grief! I am resolved that the
remembrance of a misfortune so common shall never more disturb my
quiet.
From that moment he forbore afflicting himself. Being unwilling to
sup till he saw the whole scene that was acted under his window, he
called then for his supper, eat with a better appetite than he had
done at any time since his coming from Samarcande, and listened with
some degree of pleasure to the agreeable concert of vocal and
instrumental music, that was appointed to entertain him while at
table.
He continued after this in very good humour; and when he knew that
the sultan was returning, he went to meet him, and paid him his
compliments with great gayety. Schahriar at first took no notice of
this alteration; but politely expostulated with him, why he would
not bear him company at hunting the stag; and without giving him
time to reply, entertained him with a relation of the great number
of deer and other game they had killed, and what pleasure he had in
the sport. Schahzenan heard him with attention, gave answer to every
thing, and being free from that melancholy which formerly
overclouded his wit, he said a thousand agreeable and pleasant
things to the sultan.
Schahriar, who expected to have found him in the same state as he
left him, was overjoyed to see him so cheerful, and spoke to him
thus: Dear brother, I return thanks to Heaven for the happy change
it has made in you during my absence; I am extremely rejoiced at it;
but I have a request to make to you, and conjure you not to deny me.
--I can refuse you nothing, replied the king of Tartary; you may
command Schahzenan as you please; speak, I am impatient till I know
what you desire of me. --Ever since you came to my court, replied
Schahriar, I found you swallowed up by a deep melancholy, and I in
vain attempted to remove it by all sorts of diversion. I imagined it
might be occasioned by reason of your distance from your dominions,
or that love might have a great share in it, and that the queen of
Samarcande, who, no doubt, is an accomplished beauty, might be the
cause of it. I do not know if I be mistaken; but I must own, that it
was for this very reason I would not importune you upon the subject,
for fear of making you uneasy. But without my having contributed any
thing towards it, I find now, upon my return, that you are in the
best humour that can be, and that your mind is entirely delivered
from that black vapour which disturbed it. Pray do me the favour to
tell me why you were so melancholy, and why you are no longer so.
Upon this, the king of Tartary continued for some time, as if he had
been meditating, and contriving what he should answer; but at last
replied as follows: You are my sultan and master; but excuse me, I
beseech you, from answering your question. --No, dear brother, said
the sultan, you must answer me; I will take no denial. Schahzenan,
not being able to withstand these pressing instances, answered,
Well, then, brother, I will satisfy you, since you command me; and
having told him the story of the queen of Samarcande’s treachery,
This, says he, was the cause of my grief; judge whether I had not
reason enough to give myself up to it.
Oh! my brother, says the sultan, (in a tone which showed what an
interest he took in the king of Tartary’s story,) what a horrible
story do you tell me! How impatient was I till I heard it out! I
commend you for punishing the traitors who offered you such an
outrage. Nobody can blame you for that action: it was just; and, for
my part, had the case been mine, I should scarce have been so
moderate as you. I would not have satisfied myself with the life of
one woman; I verily think I should have sacrificed a thousand to my
fury. I cease now to wonder at your melancholy. The cause of it was
too sensible and too mortifying, not to make you yield to it. O
heaven! what a strange adventure! Nor do I believe the like ever
befel any man but yourself. But, in short, I must bless God, who has
comforted you; and since I doubt not but your consolation is well
grounded, be so good as to let me know what it is, and conceal
nothing from me. Schahzenan was not so easily prevailed upon in this
point, as he had been in the other, because of his brother’s
concern it; but being obliged to yield to his pressing instances,
answered, I must obey you, then, since your command is absolute; yet
I am afraid that my obedience will occasion your trouble to be
greater than ever mine was. But you must blame yourself for it,
since you force me to reveal a thing which I should otherwise have
buried in eternal oblivion. What you say, answers Schahriar, serves
only to increase my curiosity. Make haste to discover the secret,
whatever it be. The king of Tartary being no longer able to refuse,
gave him the particulars of all that he had seen of the blacks in
disguise; of the ungoverned passion of the sultaness and her ladies;
and he did not forget Masoud. After having been witness to those
infamous actions, says he, I believed all women to be naturally
inclined thereto, and that they could not resist their inclination.
Being of this opinion, it seemed to me to be an unaccountable
weakness in men to place any confidence in their fidelity. This
reflection brought on many others; and, in short, I thought the best
thing I could do was to make myself easy. It cost me some pains,
indeed, but at last I effected it; and if you will take my advice,
you will follow my example.