winebibber, contrary to the ordinances of our Lord Mohammed, whom
Allah protect and preserve! And a devil took possession of him and
made his stomach sick, so that he had no desire or relish for food;
and the devil used to appear to him as a blue Afrit, and from that he
changed into many shapes, from a squeaking mouse to a monkey, then
to a bear, and at last into the shape of a roaring lion, so that the
Wuzeer sought far and wide for some holy man who might exorcise this
devil, who had become a burden to him and more than he could endure,
and make him depart. In this way he heard of the Darweesh of Birumis,
to whom he sent honourable men with rich gifts and a request that he
would come to him at Hillah; for he knew not that he was the son of
the former Caliph. But Mohammed ben Khosroes refused his presents, for
which, as he said, he had no use and sent the messengers away, saying:
‘I am a sinful mortal like yourselves, neither do I possess any power
over Afrits:’ for indeed, he greatly feared Afrits, and would rather
have fled than have faced one. At this the Caliph was incensed, and
the Afrit taunted him, saying: ‘Lo, I am but one against you all; and
yet thou and thy servants and even thy holy men are afraid to meet
me!’ And the Afrit appeared before him as a tiny fly, which presently
swelled until it grew into a monstrous bird of fearful aspect bigger
than a roc, so that the Caliph could no longer support his fear and
trouble, and sent an armed guard to bring Mohammed by force into his
presence. When he was come, the Caliph commanded him to exorcise the
devil; but Mohammed feared the power of the Afrit, and said that he
was not able, and he repeated the verse: ‘Give the orphans their
substance, and render them not in exchange bad for good, and devour
not their substance by adding it to thy substance, for this is a
great sin.’ He also recited the verse: ‘Surely wine, and lots, and
images, and divining arrows are an abomination of the work of Satan;
therefore avoid them that ye may prosper.’ But the Caliph was enraged
at these sayings, and at his refusal to exorcise the devil, and he
bade the ferrashes throw him down and give him an hundred blows on the
soles of his feet; and they laid on with such good will that Mohammed
fainted for stress of pain, and his feet became as jelly. When they had
finished, he crawled out more dead than alive on his hands and knees,
groaning, into the street, and as he lay there an old woman who was
passing by took pity upon him, and set him upon an ass, and conveyed
him to her house, where she dressed his feet and somewhat alleviated
the pain. Now this old woman was foul of aspect and filthy, her eyes
ran over with salt rheum, and her voice was harsh like a man’s, in
short she was a misfortune to look upon; but Mohammed was thankful
for his escape and grateful to her, and he called down blessings upon
her for tending him. She had not, however, shown kindness to him but
out of the wickedness of her heart, for she took his darweesh’s cloak
from him, and clad him in slave’s garments, making him to do all the
heavy work of the house, and grind the corn, and see to the asses; and
she would follow him about and beat him, and rail and cry out at him:
‘Thou sluggard! thou oaf! work faster! do this and do that,’ until he
almost fainted from stress of work and from hunger, and said within
himself: ‘Verily it would have been better to have faced the Caliph’s
Afrit than to have suffered this!’ In such evil plight he abode with
the old woman for some time, and all hope of escape or of any change
in his condition, save death, had almost left him, for every night
she would bind him to a stone pillar lest he might flee from her. But
one night her bosom was contracted at the thoughts of Eblis and the
fear of a future state, and she bid her slave girl bring her the wine
cups, and she ate and she drank until the wine she had taken overcame
her, and her reason left her, so she desired to divert her mind by the
sight of Mohammed and of his misery, and bade the slave girl unbind
him and bring him before her in order that she might expand her bosom
by reviling him. And when he stood before her, anger overcame him at
the recollection of all the wrongs that he had suffered at her hands,
and he took up a pitcher of water that stood beside her, and threw
it at her so that she died. Then the slaves raised a great cry, and
the officers of justice came and bound him and carried him before the
Caliph, who said to him: ‘Oh, ill-omened slave, was it not enough
for thee that I beat thee, but thou must slay the daughters of true
believers?’ And he bid them beat him again, and then take him out and
hang him. So they beat him until he thought that his soul had left his
body, and that hanging would be superfluous; and then they set him upon
an ass with his face to its tail, and a crier went before him saying:
‘This is the reward of murderers!’ until they reached the gallows
without the city.
Now it happened that some of the chief men about the Caliph had
recognised Mohammed when he was brought before him, and repented them
of having slain his father and of having given the kingdom to the
Wuzeer, for he was a winebibber, and neglected the affairs of state,
and oppressed the people; so they rose upon him and slew him, and they
sent after Mohammed, intending to set him upon the throne. A troop of
horse rode forth at once, shouting: ‘Long live our Lord Mohammed! Long
live our Caliph!’ The crowd took up the cry and rushed after them,
and they reached the place of execution just as the rope was being
placed round Mohammed’s neck and he had given himself up for lost. The
officers of justice heard the commotion, and said: ‘Perhaps something
has happened, it were better that we wait: for if the Caliph wish him
to live, it is well, whereas if he wish him to die, we can kill him
afterwards.’ But just then a fly stung the ass upon which Mohammed was
sitting, and the ass threw up its heels and pitched him off, so that,
the rope being round his neck, he was strangled and died. May Allah
have mercy upon him and end his woes in Paradise!
When I had finished this story, Zehneb hung her head, and said: ‘It
is true that there is no escape from destiny, but he who always does
right is protected by God, as was the case with Abou Ali.’ ‘What is the
story of Abou Ali?’ I asked. So she related it to me as follows.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
_THE STORY OF ABOU ALI, OR GOOD DEEDS ARE REWARDED BY GOD._
I heard from my mother, that when the kingdom of Iran was temporarily
at rest under Barkiarok, he had a Wuzeer who was called Abou Ali, a man
discreet and intelligent, who served God, was just to all men, and gave
most of his wealth to the poor, insomuch that the people blessed him
and loved him better than the Shah. For the Shah took their wealth and
gave them nothing in return, neither security nor justice, nor defence
nor good government, but on the other hand oppressed them and treated
them hardly. So they stood before Abou Ali, and said: ‘O Wuzeer, verily
our Shah oppresses us, and neither our possessions nor our lives are
secure from him: therefore we are resolved to depose him and set you,
_Inshallah_, God willing, in his place.’ Then Abou Ali rose up and
shook his collar, and descending from the divan he cried out at them:
‘Oh people, what words are these? Verily ye are of little sense! Go
to your homes lest this come to the ears of the Shah and he become
incensed against you, and make your last state worse than the first!’
So they left him abashed, and went to their homes saying: ‘There are
indeed few among us who being offered the throne would have refused
it!’ But Abou Ali, when they had left him, struck hand upon hand, and
said within himself: ‘In sooth it were best that I informed the Shah
of that that hath happened, lest he hear of it from others.’ So he
disposed of his property, and set free his slaves, and then, seeking
an audience from the Shah, told him of what had occurred, nor did he
conceal anything from him, and he added: ‘Verily I fear for thee, Oh
Asylum of the Universe, lest they offer the throne to other than I.
As for me, I am less than the least, but there are none who would
not turn from thee saving myself.’ At this the Shah was perplexed,
but concealing his anxiety, he praised Abou Ali for his rectitude of
conduct and loaded him with presents, and so sent him away; then he
turned over in his mind how he might get rid of him, for he feared him
and there were none among his officers or chief people whom he might
trust. Therefore he sent for the chief of his hareem, and commanded
him to take with him forty of his most trusty Memlouks, and go up to
the house of Abou Ali when the shades of night had obscured the light
of day, and to plunder his house and seize him and convey him quickly
into the desert, where they were to put him to death. ‘On my head and
my eyes,’ said the chief: but he was nevertheless grieved for Abou Ali,
who had shown him much kindness, and his heart was heavy within him.
When evening fell, he accordingly went with forty of his most trusty
Memlouks, and they knocked at the door of Abou Ali’s house and said:
‘Open in the Shah’s name!’ So he opened to them, and they plundered it
and set seals on the door, and they took him and bound him and set him
upon a horse, and rode forth with him into the desert. Then the chief
dismissed his men, saying: ‘The Shah’s commands are for me to obey,’
and he fared on with Abou Ali until they had come to the borders of
Persia, when he alighted from his horse, and unbound him, and treated
him with honour, seating him beside him on his carpet, and gave him to
eat, putting morsels into his mouth with his own hands. And he said
to him: ‘Oh, Abou Ali, I am not of those who forget kindness done to
them at the hands of others: is it not written in the sublime Koran:
“We feed you for God’s sake only, we desire no recompense from you,
nor any thanks; verily we dread from our Lord a dismal and calamitous
day; wherefore God shall deliver them from the evil of that day, and
shall cast on them brightness of countenance and joy.” Therefore, Oh
Abou Ali, take this horse, together with a sufficiency of food, and
go thy ways, for it is not safe for thee to be seen in the Shah’s
dominions.’ So Abou Ali thanked him and fared on, not knowing whither
he went, but putting his trust in God, the Protector, the All-powerful.
Now he had taken with him all that he had that was great in value but
little in bulk of jewels and of money, and whenever he saw a poor man,
he would give him a handful, saying: ‘This is for the sake of God.’
And they would pray for him and call down blessings upon him. Thus it
happened with him until he reached the country of Hind, which is a
pleasant country abounding in wealth, with flowing rivers and shady
trees. As he entered the city he heard a commotion, and going to see
the cause, perceived that a man was chastising his slave, while the
slave, who was an old man with white hair, wept and excused himself,
saying: ‘Verily, I am old, and I am not able to do more than I have
done.’ So Abou Ali went up to the master, and saluted him, and asked
the cause of the beating and wherein his slave had offended him. To
which the master replied that he was lazy and would not work. Then
Abou Ali was moved with pity for him, and said: ‘Show kindness unto
parents and relations, and to orphans and the poor and the traveller
and the captives whom your right hand shall possess.’ And he would have
ransomed him, but found that none remained to him of all the wealth
and jewels that he had fled with. So he said: ‘Give this old man his
freedom, and something wherewithal to live upon, and take me, who am
young and vigorous, as thy slave in his place.’ At this the master
was pleased, and called out: ‘Ho, neighbours, ho, true believers, I
take ye to witness that this man hath sold himself to me of his own
free will, and the price is ten pieces of silver and this slave.’ And
they said: ‘We are your witness.’ Then Abou Ali doffed his robes, and
put on the garment of a slave, and worked for this man; his lot was
hard, and he had to eat many stripes, but still he repined not, for
he said within himself: ‘Verily God will not wrong anyone even the
weight of an ant; if it be a good action, he will double it, and will
recompense it in His sight with great reward.’ Thus was his state for
a great while; but it chanced that one day, as the master, according
to his custom, was looking on at the work of his slaves in the garden,
that he was angry with one of them and ordered him to be thrown upon
the ground and beaten. Whereupon all the slaves rose against him and
seized him, and treated him vilely, and would have slain him, but
Abou Ali cried out at them: ‘Ho, Caffour, ho, Hassim, verily it is
written, “He who forgiveth and is reconciled unto his enemy shall
receive his reward from God, for He loveth not the unjust doers.”’ And
again, ‘“For those who persecute the true believer, and afterwards
repent not, are prepared the torments of hell.” Therefore, Oh fellow
slaves, do no hurt to your master, but leave his punishment to God!’
So he persuaded them to leave him, grievously wounded, it is true,
but they refrained from taking his life. Then the master departed and
returned to his abode and dressed his wounds; and when he was somewhat
recovered, he sent for Abou Ali, who came and stood before him in
a respectful attitude, his hands concealed in his sleeves. And his
master said to him, ‘Oh, Ali, I should not have escaped from those
accursed slaves had it not been for thy faithfulness and fortitude,
and inasmuch as thou hast risked thy life for mine, I give thee thy
freedom and also the hand of my daughter, my only child, and I adopt
thee for my son.’ After Abou Ali had thanked him, they made a great
feast and celebrated the nuptials, the festivities lasting for three
days. Then the father-in-law appointed him master over the slaves, so
he looked after them, and treated them justly, and they all loved him
and did his behests. In this way they abided for some time until his
father-in-law had fulfilled his appointed days, and he died. Then Abou
Ali sold all his possessions, and loaded his goods upon camels, and set
out on his way towards Iran, for he was tired of dwelling in a country
that was not his own; and he journeyed on until he came to the town of
Bunpore where he found all the people assembled without the gates, who,
when he came up to them, hailed him as their Sultan: for it was their
custom whenever their Sultan died to assemble without their gates, and
the first stranger that passed that way they would make Sultan in his
place. So Abou Ali accepted the throne of Kohistan, and he lived in the
town of Bunpore in the enjoyment of all felicity until he was visited
by the terminator of delights and the separator of companions.
Zehneb finished her story thus, and she added that this showed how
those who fulfilled the commandments of Allah attained happiness.
Nevertheless, I was not convinced, for was I not compelled by love? And
so I related to her the following.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
_THE STORY OF GHERIB AND BÄIDA._
One day as I was wandering in the neighbourhood of our home, pursuing
the fleet gazelle with hawk and hound among the stony mountains, I
suddenly came upon a cave in which I found dwelling an old Darweesh.
His only garment was a camel-hair cloth, his skin was brown with dirt,
and his hair and beard were long and matted. There he sat counting his
beads or prostrating himself in prayer; and ever and anon he would take
up a great stone and beat his breast, crying out the names of God. I
went up to him and questioned him of his case, saying, ‘Oh Darweesh,
verily I have hunted in these districts many years, but never yet have
I met such as thou.’ ‘Oh, my son,’ he replied, ‘in truth my story
is a sad one, and will serve as an example to those who would be
admonished.’ He then proceeded as follows.
My name is Gherib, and I loved Baïda, the daughter of my uncle, whose
name was Achmet Decab. Baïda was as the waving willow wand, like a
branch pearled with dew; her face put to shame the shining sun, and her
eyes were languishing, such as would steal away the soul; in short, she
was endowed with the uttermost of amorous grace, and resplendent with
beauty and perfection. But her father was a covetous man, and desired
more for her than he could get from me, her cousin; and therefore he
put off our marriage with excuses and subterfuges, although she loved
me, saying that she was yet young, or that he must prepare for the
marriage feast, or that some of our relations were away: in short,
he said anything that he could think of in order that he might gain
time, and perhaps escape from his obligation to give her to me. Now
the beauty of Baïda was so great, that the fame thereof spread far and
wide among the tribes, and her father had many offers of marriage for
her, all of which he was obliged to decline on my account, saying that
she was already betrothed. But one among her suitors, who was a rich
man, and owned many flocks and herds and droves of camels, resolved
nevertheless to see her in order that he might verify with his own
eyes the report of her extraordinary beauty; and he therefore visited
Achmet Decab, who entertained him hospitably, and he stayed with him
three days, in the course of which he saw Baïda tending her flocks, and
knew that report, so far from exaggerating her charms, had been unable
to do her justice. Thereupon the flames of love were kindled within
him, and he offered her father a large dowry, though Achmet Decab, much
to his regret, was unable to accept it owing to me and to my superior
claim; and he informed the suitor, whose name was Said Salem, of the
case. So they consulted together, and Said offered me much wealth if I
would give her up: but I replied, ‘Oh, Said, wert thou to offer to me
all the riches of the Arabs, yet would I not take it save together with
Baïda.’ At that he went his way, but her father was enraged at losing
the riches that would have been his. After that he sought to get me out
of the way that he might then demand his daughter’s dowry suddenly, for
if it were not forthcoming, he might then give his daughter to whom he
pleased. So he sent for me with a deceitful heart, and treated me with
honour, and said: ‘Truly, my son, we have been longing for thy union
with our daughter; and we did not tempt thee with riches save to prove
thy love for her. Would that thy union were accomplished, nor is there
ought standing in its way save thy poverty: for she is used to plenty,
and is not accustomed to a hard life. Therefore it is incumbent upon
thee to obtain riches. Thou art valiant and experienced: why then dost
thou not make a raid upon some one of the neighbouring tribes or towns,
and so remove the only obstacle between thee and her?’ ‘Upon my head
and my eyes, oh my uncle!’ I replied. So I got together of our tribe
of the most daring of the young men, and set forth on my expedition.
As soon, however, as I had been gone some days’ march, Achmet Decab
demanded his daughter’s dowry; but I had guarded against this by
leaving in the hands of four of my kinsmen what was necessary, who paid
it over to him before witnesses; nor could he refuse it, so that when
I returned he could no longer make excuses to postpone our marriage,
and he knew that I would be informed of what had taken place and
return quickly. Then, so great was his rage and disappointment, that
he resolved to sin against his own blood, and, calling before him his
son Zalan, who was Baïda’s half-brother, commanded him to join me, and
under the guise of brotherhood and friendliness to seek an opportunity
to slay me secretly, so that it might appear that I had been slain by
the enemy. Accordingly Zalan set out and came to me, and I welcomed him
and treated him like a brother. The next day we made a descent upon
the people of Mechrimeh. Spears were bathed in blood, arrows flew in
clouds, sword clashed with sword, and valiant men were laid low. In the
midst of the fight I chanced to turn my head and saw Zalan in the act
of poising a javelin against me. I warded it off with my shield, and
Zalan, seeing himself detected, with the courage of desperation seized
another with the intention of again attacking me, although he knew that
I was superior to him in the exercises of war: but before he could
poise it, I spurred my horse upon him, and with my falchion split him
in two halves, so that the one fell on the one side of his horse and
the other upon the other. When the fight was over, and we had driven
off the flocks and herds and had added them to those we had taken
before in a secure place in the desert, I had leisure to reflect upon
my case and upon the misfortune that had overtaken me. For my uncle
was now become the avenger of blood, and would seek to destroy me, and
I could not become the husband of Baïda. I wept when I reflected upon
the perversity of my fate that was before so flourishing, but it had
become necessary for me now to take some measures for my own safety,
so I withdrew to another tribe, whence I wrote to Baïda giving her an
account of Zalan’s treachery, deploring the adversity of fate and our
separation, and begged her to give me some token that in spite of all
that had happened she still loved me. I also sent her the following
verses:
Beneath the palms, their gentle fronds still bending
In murmuring greeting to the balmy wind,
I saw thee, love, thy fleecy charges tending;
Oh, that I ne’er had seen thee, or been blind!
One glance you shot. Ah me, a never-ending
Flame that glance kindled in my peaceful mind,
And straight I loved thee with a love transcending
Love ever fired in man by womankind!
My eyes that brought those flames on me endeavour
To quench with tears love’s agonising pain;
Alas, alas, I might weep on for ever,
Without thy love recovery is vain!
Ask weary Night, and she will tell thee never
Through all her watches o’er the dewy plain
Are my lids closed in balmy sleep, but ever
Look for the rising morning star again.
O love, my love, if thou canst pity show it
While yet a spark of life remains in me!
If thou canst not, then let Death have me, so it
Release me from my yearning misery!
Grant but one grace (ah, would that I might know it
Before I died, that I might gladdened be!)
Forget me not--think of me sometimes, though it
Remind thee also that I died for thee!
Then I sealed it, and sent it by a secret messenger, so that it should
come into her hands. When she had read it, and understood its contents,
she wept and fell down in a swoon, and after she had recovered she
replied to me as follows:
I am content for him I love to bide
All evils that sad destiny hath wrought;
So let him blame who will, and who will chide.
God knows, I ne’er recall thee to my thought,
My loved one, but, straight from my brimming eyes
The streaming tears gush forth with which they’re fraught!
Though I my griefs conceal for fear of spies,
My hollow cheeks and tears still me betray:
Now thou art gone, I only breathe in sighs.
What though the sun shine! Still it is not day;
There is but darkness where there should be light,
While thou, my love, art elsewhere, far away!
Like a left hand, forsaken of the right,
I feel now thou art gone; to whom shall I
My soul unburden, thus abandoned quite?
‘Console thyself with others’ love,’ they cry;
Nay, by thy life, by my love’s life, I vow
I’d go through fires could I win thee thereby!
I supplicate Him, who doth part us now,
That we may meet once more, in spite of foes,
And in a blissful union end our woes!
This was a consolation indeed to me in my misfortunes; but though we
managed to exchange a certain amount of correspondence, yet it was
impossible for me to relax any of the precautions I was taking to
preserve my life. Achmet Decab dared not come near me where I was,
but neither dared I go near my old home: for, unless I killed him,
which I might certainly do, my life was not safe from hour to hour;
whereas, if I did kill him, I should only give rise to another blood
feud and be no better off than I was before. At length in answer to my
many complaints of the pain of absence, I received a letter from Baïda
appointing a meeting in a cave well known to both of us, situated upon
the other side of the mountain against which our tribe had encamped.
My joy upon the receipt of this epistle I will leave you to imagine,
and I need not tell you that I did not fail to keep the appointed time.
On the date given me I set off early, and with due circumspection,
travelled two-thirds of the distance and then hid myself in a retired
spot to wait for the shades of night to fall. As soon as it began to
get dark I resumed my journey, and as the moon was just beginning to
rise and shed its tender beams, so dear to a lover’s heart, over the
stony waste, I arrived at the trysting-place, where I tethered my horse
in the innermost recesses of a cave and then took up a position among
some broken rocks whence I could see and yet not be seen. I had not
waited long, when I saw Baïda approaching. She appeared troubled in
mien, but made light of all obstacles in her way as only an Arab girl
could. Ever and anon she stopped and listened, clearly, as I thought,
for me, for it was not yet the full time appointed: then she would
hurry on again until at length she arrived at the cave. I heard her
call my name in a low voice, and needed no second summons before I
was at her side. Ah! how can I describe to you our mutual transports
at meeting each other again after so long an interval, rendered twice
as long by the sharp impatience of love and doubting as we did that
we should ever see each other again? It seemed that we had hardly
exchanged a word, when she suddenly started back, and looking fearfully
around, informed me that my life was in the greatest danger. She had
come at the peril of her own to warn me that our correspondence had
been intercepted and that the letter inviting me was none of hers but
merely a decoy which she had discovered by the merest accident but a
few hours ago. Seeing some of her relations assembled armed at her
father’s tent, her suspicions were aroused, and listening behind the
curtain, she overheard the whole plot. Achmet Decab had decoyed me
here, and, while I unsuspectingly awaited my Baïda, he hoped easily to
surprise and overcome me. She had scarcely finished her recital when
with a shriek she threw herself in front of me, and almost at the same
instant fell at my feet pierced through the heart by a javelin, while
the war-cry of my tribe rung in my ears. I stooped down to kiss her,
and saw that she was dead: my heart became filled with the fury of
ten thousand devils: I drew my sword, and rushed down upon my enemies
blind with rage; I attacked madly, and the first person I encountered
was Achmet Decab, whose sword I beat down, and whom I instantly slew.
Then I turned upon the others, nor did I know what afterwards happened,
so blind was my fury, save that shortly afterwards I found that all
my enemies had fled, leaving two of their number besides Achmet Decab
dead behind them. When there was no one left to fight, my senses
returned to me, and I went back to Baïda and lifted her tenderly up.
How beautiful she was in death! Gently I closed those loving eyes that
never again would respond to my impassioned gaze, and smoothed those
tresses for the last time with my trembling hands. That fearful glance
was gone, her features were composed in peace, she would feel no more
of the griefs and anxieties of this world: her woes were ended, even
as she had supplicated the Most High--may our union be a blessed one
in Paradise! Then I dug a grave, and laid her in it, while my tears
ran in two rivulets at my feet. Her body I covered over with sand, but
left her face free, for I felt that the sand might choke her. Then I
piled large stones around and over it, and sat there three days weeping
and reciting verses from the Koran, while the vultures and jackals
demolished the carcasses of those I had slain. After this I wandered
away as one distraught, I know not for how long, until I took up my
abode here; where I daily pray that the Merciful One will release me
from this life and reunite me with my beloved where separation can
never more come.