These two stories are from the Arabian Nights: the two following are
from the Persian Tales.--Fadlallah, king of Mousel, contracted an
intimacy with a young dervise, a species of Turkish friar, who makes a
vow of perpetual poverty. The dervise, to ingratiate himself the more
with the prince, informed him of a secret he possessed, by means of a
certain incantation, of projecting his soul into the body of any dead
animal he thought proper.
To convince the king that this power was no empty boast, he offered to
quit his own body, and animate that of a doe, which Fadlallah had just
killed in hunting. He accordingly executed what he proposed, took
possession of the body of the doe, displayed the most surprising
agility, approached the king, fawning on him with every expression of
endearment, and then, after various bounds, deserting the limbs of the
animal, and repossessing his own frame, which during the experiment
had lain breathless on the ground. Fadlallah became earnest to possess
the secret of the dervise; and, after some demurs, it was communicated
to him. The king took possession of the body of the doe; but his
treacherous confident no sooner saw the limbs of Fadlallah stretched
senseless on the ground, than he conveyed his own spirit into them,
and, bending his bow, sought to destroy the life of his defenceless
victim. The king by his agility escaped; and the dervise, resorting to
the palace, took possession of the throne, and of the bed of the queen,
Zemroude, with whom Fadlallah was desperately enamoured. The first
precaution of the usurper was to issue a decree that all the deer
within his dominions should be killed, hoping by this means to destroy
the rightful sovereign. But the king, aware of his danger, had deserted
the body of the doe, and entered that of a dead nightingale that lay
in his path. In this disguise he hastened to the palace, and placed
himself in a wide-spreading tree, which grew immediately before the
apartment of Zemroude. Here he poured out his complaints and the grief
that penetrated his soul in such melodious notes, as did not fail to
attract the attention of the queen. She sent out her bird-catchers to
make captive the little warbler; and Fadlallah, who desired no better,
easily suffered himself to be made their prisoner. In this new
position he demonstrated by every gesture of fondness his partiality
to the queen; but if any of her women approached him, he pecked at
them in anger, and, when the impostor made his appearance, could not
contain the vehemence of his rage. It happened one night that the
queen's lap-dog died; and the thought struck Fadlallah that he would
animate the corpse of this animal. The next morning Zemroude found her
favourite bird dead in his cage, and immediately became inconsolable.
Never, she said, was so amiable a bird; he distinguished her from all
others; he seemed even to entertain a passion for her; and she felt as
if she could not survive his loss. The dervise in vain tried every
expedient to console her. At length he said, that, if she pleased, he
would cause her nightingale to revive every morning, and entertain her
with his tunes as long as she thought proper. The dervise accordingly
laid himself on a sopha, and by means of certain cabalistic words,
transported his soul into the body of the nightingale, and began to
sing. Fadlallah watched his time; he lay in a corner of the room
unobserved; but no sooner had the dervise deserted his body, than the
king proceeded to take possession of it. The first thing he did was to
hasten to the cage, to open the door with uncontrolable impatience,
and, seizing the bird, to twist off its head. Zemroude, amazed, asked
him what he meant by so inhuman an action. Fadlallah in reply related
to her all the circumstances that had befallen him; and the queen
became so struck with agony and remorse that she had suffered her
person, however innocently, to be polluted by so vile an impostor,
that she could not get over the recollection, but pined away and died
from a sense of the degradation she had endured.
But a much more perplexing and astounding instance of transformation
occurs in the history of the Young King of Thibet and the Princess of
the Naimans. The sorcerers in this case are represented as, without
any intermediate circumstance to facilitate their witchcraft, having
the ability to assume the form of any one they please, and in
consequence to take the shape of one actually present, producing a
duplication the most confounding that can be imagined.--Mocbel, the
son of an artificer of Damascus, but whose father had bequeathed him
considerable wealth, contrived to waste his patrimony and his youth
together in profligate living with Dilnouaze, a woman of dissolute
manners. Finding themselves at once poor and despised, they had
recourse to the sage Bedra, the most accomplished magician of the
desert, and found means to obtain her favour. In consequence she
presented them with two rings, which had the power of enabling them to
assume the likeness of any man or woman they please. Thus equipped,
Mocbel heard of the death of Mouaffack, prince of the Naimans, who was
supposed to have been slain in a battle, and whose body had never been
found. The niece of Mouaffack now filled the throne; and under these
circumstances Mocbel conceived the design of personating the absent
Mouaffack, exciting a rebellion among his countrymen, and taking
possession of the throne. In this project he succeeded; and the
princess driven into exile, took refuge in the capital of Thibet. Here
the king saw her, fell in love with her, and espoused her. Being made
acquainted with her history, he resolved to re-conquer her dominions,
and sent a defiance to the usurper. Mocbel, terrified at the thought
of so formidable an invader, first pretended to die, and then, with
Dilnouaze, who during his brief reign had under the form of a beautiful
woman personated his queen, proceeded in his original form to the
capital of Thibet. Here his purpose was to interrupt the happiness of
those who had disturbed him in his deceitful career. Accordingly one
night, when the queen, previously to proceeding to her repose, had
shut herself up in her closet to read certain passages of the Alcoran,
Dilnouaze, assuming her form with the minutest exactness, hastened to
place herself in the royal bed by the side of the king. After a time,
the queen shut her book, and went along the gallery to the king's
bedchamber, Mocbel watched his time, and placed himself, under the
form of a frightful apparition, directly in the queen's path. She
started at the sight, and uttered a piercing shriek. The king
recognised her voice, and hastened to see what had happened to her.
She explained; but the king spoke of something much more extraordinary,
and asked her how it could possibly happen that she should be in the
gallery, at the same moment that he had left her, undressed and in bed.
They proceeded to the chamber to unravel the mystery. Here a contention
occurred between the real and the seeming queen, each charging the
other with imposture. The king turned from one to the other, and was
unable to decide between their pretensions. The courtiers and the
ladies of the bedchamber were called, and all were perplexed with
uncertainty and doubt. At length they determine in favour of the false
queen, It was then proposed that the other should be burned for a
sorceress. The king however forbade this. He was not yet altogether
decided; and could not resolve to consign his true queen, as it might
possibly be, to a cruel death. He was therefore content to strip her
of her royal robes, to clothe her in rags, and thrust her ignominiously
from his palace.
Treachery however was not destined to be ultimately triumphant. The
king one day rode out a hunting; and Mocbel, that he might the better
deceive the guards of the palace, seizing the opportunity, assumed his
figure, and went to bed to Dilnouaze. The king meanwhile recollected
something of importance, that he had forgotten before he went out to
hunt, and returning upon his steps, proceeded to the royal chamber.
Here to his utter confusion he found a man in bed with his queen, and
that man to his greater astonishment the exact counterpart of himself.
Furious at the sight, he immediately drew his scymetar. The man
contrived to escape down the backstairs. The woman however remained in
bed; and, stretching out her hands to intreat for mercy, the king
struck off the hand which had the ring on it, and she immediately
appeared, as she really was, a frightful hag. She begged for life; and,
that she might mollify his rage, explained the mystery, told him that
it was by means of a ring that she effected the delusion, and that by
a similar enchantment her paramour had assumed the likeness of the
king. The king meanwhile was inexorable, and struck off her head. He
next turned in pursuit of the adulterer. Mocbel however had had time
to mount on horseback. But the king mounted also; and, being the
better horseman, in a short time overtook his foe. The impostor did
not dare to cope with him, but asked his life; and the king,
considering him as the least offender of the two, pardoned him upon
condition of his surrendering the ring, in consequence of which he
passed the remainder of his life in poverty and decrepitude.