THE
ADVENTURES OF HATIM TAÏ
A Romance
Translated from the Persian by
DUNCAN FORBES
REVISED AND EDITED, WITH INTRODUCTION
BY
WILLIAM ROUNSEVILLE ALGER
Boston, U.S.A., and London
GINN & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS
1896
[COPYRIGHT.]
Copyright, 1896, by
GINN & COMPANY
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
CONTENTS.
INTRODUCTION.
THE ADVENTURES OF HATIM TAÏ.
BOOK I.
BOOK II.
BOOK III.
BOOK IV.
BOOK V.
BOOK VI.
BOOK VII.
NOTES.
INTRODUCTION.
This remarkable and fascinating romance, in its English version, was
originally published under the auspices of the Oriental Translation
Fund sixty-five years ago. Issued in the form of a costly folio, it
was buried in great libraries, and scarcely found its way at all to
the general public. The publishers of the present edition, becoming
acquainted with the rare merits and the intense interest of the work,
have resolved to bring it, in a more available shape, to the attention
of the large class of refined readers who cannot fail to be both
delighted and edified by it.
The preface by the accomplished translator of the work from the
Persian dealt much with philological matters which are of no interest
save to critical students or linguists. Omitting these portions,
re-arranging and condensing the rest, and adding some new matter, the
present editor seeks here simply to furnish such an introduction as
will enable those who approach the work to occupy the right point of
view for an appreciative perusal of it. He has inserted in the text
itself, in order not to encumber the pages with footnotes, such
changes or explanatory phrases as will remove any obscurities which
might perplex the reader.
The story consists of seven connected tales, of the same general
character with those of the Arabian Nights Entertainments. In exciting
interest, in ethical charm, in imaginative richness of startling
adventures, it is not one whit inferior to the very best of those
world-renowned masterpieces. It is a magnificent specimen of that
ideal freedom of genius which creates its own world, peoples it with
its own productions and events, and sympathizes, in vivid interior
reproduction, with the romantic experiences of its characters and
their destinies. Herein it is a valuable education of the reader in
dramatic liberty of mind, fertility of fancy, quickness and strength
of emotional action and reaction.
The whole production is also marked by an eminently humane and heroic
spirit. The illustrious personage who figures as its hero, and whose
thrilling adventures it records, was in his time regarded as an
unequalled pattern of bravery, wisdom, and generosity. Hatim ben Ubaid
ben Sa’id, chief of the tribe of Taï, lived in the latter half of the
sixth century of the Christian era. His native country was Arabia
felix, otherwise named Yemen. As the country was then divided into
numerous tribes, it is probable that his sway extended only over a few
thousand warriors who bore his family name of Taï and owned his
chieftaincy. At all events he had in the highest degree all the
virtues then most admired. An Arabian author of the twelfth century
says of him: “Hatim was brave, liberal, wise, victorious. When he
fought, he conquered; when he plundered, he carried off; when he was
asked, he gave; when he shot his arrow, he hit the mark; and
whomsoever he captured, he liberated.”
It is related of him that when he went a-hunting he never wounded the
creatures he pursued with an arrow or any other deadly weapon, but
used to catch them in nets and again set them at liberty. He never, it
is said, uttered abusive language, but always spoke mildly. He
possessed beauty so extreme that all men and women admired him and
coveted his companionship. When any one approached him with a
complaint and laid hold of the bridle of his horse, he would address
the suppliant in consoling terms, examine into his grievances and
afford him protection; for tyranny or wrong he countenanced not.
Naturally the chief who drew such encomiums became the favorite theme
of poetry and romance. Throughout the East the name of Hatim Taï is
synonymous with heroism and liberality. The highest compliment that
can be paid to a generous man is to call him the _Hatim of the day_.
Among the many allusions to him by Arabic and Persian authors, the two
following anecdotes may here suffice:
The Greek emperor contemporary with Hatim once sent an embassador to
Yemen to ask of the chief the gift of a favorite horse. The
magnanimous Arab had received no intimation either of the embassy or
of its object, and therefore was quite unprepared for the reception of
the embassador when he arrived. In order to provide a suitable
entertainment for his distinguished guest and his attendants he had no
other resource than to order his favorite horse to be killed and
roasted for the occasion. This was done. After the feast the
embassador stated the wish of his royal master. Hatim replied: “It is
too late. The horse has been slain for our repast. When you came I
knew not the object of your journey, and had no other food to offer
you.” The second anecdote is still more astonishing. It is indeed
quite on a par with the transcendental idealism of the goodness of
Buddha, who is said actually to have given himself as a meal for a
famished tigress. One day Hatim went to the desert, and there suddenly
came upon a lion. He said in his heart: “It will be inhuman for me to
attack this lion with my weapon; yet if I smite him not he will devour
me. Perhaps by the divine favor I may soothe his heart.” In mild tones
he said to the lion[i.01]: “Creature of God, if thou art hungry for
my flesh, it is at thy service; devour me and be not sad-hearted.” At
these words the lion lowered his head and fell at the feet of Hatim
and began to wipe his eyes against them. Hatim said: “Creature of God,
far be it from me that thou shouldst depart hungry. Of my own free
will I give myself up, and if thou eatest me not it will distress me.”
The lion thereupon laid his face in the dust and then departed to his
haunt. The story, in its child-like naïveté and sweetness, is
closely akin to some of the legends of Saint Francis of Assisi.
In the Kozal-ul-Sufa is the following brief notice of the death of
Hatim. “In the eighth year after the birth of the Prophet, died
Noushirwan the Just and Hatim Taï the Generous, both famous for their
virtues.” In the same work it is further stated that toward the close
of the life of Mohammed the host of the Faithful, in propagating the
religion of the prophet, ravaged and laid waste the territory of the
tribe of Taï. Adi, the son of Hatim, fled to Syria; but his sister
and such of his people as were spared were brought as prisoners to
Medina. The prophet gave them their choice of embracing the faith or
of having their heads cut off. Then the daughter of Hatim stood forth
and pleaded the cause of her tribe. On hearing the revered name of
Hatim, Mohammed issued a free pardon to the whole tribe of Taï.
According to D’Herbelot, the tomb of Hatim is to be seen at Aovaredh,
a small village in Arabia. The spot consecrated by his dust is still
visited with the reverence due to the memory of the generous and
devoted.
If he who now writes these words in commendation of the fascinating
romance herewith presented to the public can judge from his own
experience to infer that of others, no fit reader of the _Adventures
of Hatim Taï_ will ever forget the pleasure the perusal of them gave
him or lose from his soul the inspiring impulse imparted by the
transcendent tenderness, docility, heroism, magnanimity, purity and
piety that breathe through the moral teachings incarnated in them.
To the thoughtful scholar the highest interest of the whole work lies
in the fact that it is an embodiment of the Mohammedan ideal of human
excellence. Hatim walks before us as the impersonated model of what
man should be according to the standard of Islam. In that ideal the
four chief virtues are faith, veracity, kindness and blind submission
to the decrees of fate. The Christian ideal puts in place of blind
submission to the will of God as fate, an intelligent and loving
coöperation of the will of the creature with the will of the Creator
as rational freedom. The Islamite hero, in shooting at the mark on
which his life depends, confides all to Allah and shuts his eyes as he
shoots. The Christian pattern under such circumstances would equally
trust in God, but also take careful aim. For he hears God say: “I will
guide thee with mine eye, seeing with thine!”
THE ADVENTURES OF HATIM TAÏ.
BOOK I.
_Containing the history of Husn Bānū, the daughter of Burzakh the
merchant--Her expulsion from the King of Khorasan’s capital, and her
removal from her country--Her finding in the desert the treasures of
seven kings, and her beneficence towards mankind--Her becoming
celebrated in the world, and her being beloved by Munir, the Assyrian
prince--Hatim hears of the circumstance--His visit to Husn Bānū on
account of her seven remarkable sayings, of which he undertakes an
explanation._
In the kingdom of Khorasan there lived a monarch named Kurdan Shah,
who supported in his train five hundred thousand horsemen and ten
thousand couriers, also musketeers and archers. Each of his nobles he
entrusted with the care of a province; his justice and equity were
such that he made the lion and the lamb drink water from the same
fountain; and he never oppressed his subjects. In his reign there
lived a merchant, named Burzakh, who possessed much wealth and
dignity, and whose agents travelled in all directions in pursuit of
commerce. He himself was on intimate terms with the king, and the
monarch’s regard for him was extreme. After some time, when his hour
arrived, he died, and left no heir except an only daughter, Husn Banu,
on whom was settled the whole of her father’s wealth. At this period
Husn Banu was twelve years old, and Burzakh on his death-bed left his
daughter to the king’s care, who with great kindness said, “She is my
own daughter”; and he accordingly made over to Husn Banu all the
wealth left by her father.
Shortly after, the daughter, who was possessed of wisdom, and looked
on worldly wealth as sand, began to bestow her treasures in charity,
and she used to remark, “that we ought not to entangle ourselves
amidst the contaminations of the world.” Having sent for her nurse,
she consulted her, saying, “My dear mother, it is not my intention to
marry; pray tell me by what means I can keep myself secure from the
hands of worldly men.” The nurse replied, “I have seven propositions
which you shall put to every man who desires to become your husband;
whosoever shall answer them properly, and shall agree to the terms
which they embrace, him you shall accept. The seven propositions are
the following:
“1st. What I saw once, I long for a second time.
“2d. Do good, and cast it upon the waters.[b1.01]
“3d. Do no evil; if you do, such shall you meet with.
“4th. He who speaks the truth is always tranquil.
“5th. Let him bring an account of the mountain of Nida.
“6th. Let him produce a pearl of the size of a duck’s egg.
“7th. Let him bring an account of the bath of Badgard.”
Husn Banu highly approved of these propositions; and one day shortly
after, when seated in her balcony, and viewing the surrounding
prospect, a dervise attended by forty slaves passed by, and his feet
touched not the earth. When Husn Banu saw the pious man, she said to
her nurse, “Oh, mother, who is this high personage that travels so
magnificently, and whose foot treads not the ground, except it be
paved with bricks of gold and silver?” The nurse replied, “Life of thy
mother, this dervise is the king’s spiritual guide, and Kurdan Shah
every month goes and waits upon this holy man, submits himself to him,
and acts according to his advice; in short, he is devout and in
communion with the Creator.” Husn Banu said, “My dear nurse, I have a
desire to invite him to this house to an entertainment, and shew him
every mark of respect”; to which proposal the nurse gave her
approbation. She then called one of her attendants, and said to him,
“Go to the presence of that illustrious man, and convey to his
eminence my desire, stating that a certain lady invites his holiness
to an entertainment; if out of condescension becoming the great, and
benevolence becoming the pious, he should deign to visit the said
humble lady, she will be most happy on the occasion.” When the
attendant of Husn Banu waited on the dervise, and stated to him her
representation, the pious man consented, and said, “To-morrow I will
assuredly come.” The servant brought the intelligence to Husn Banu
that the dervise would come next day, at which she was highly
delighted, and gave orders to prepare all sorts of viands for the
pious man. She also prepared for an offering to him nine suits of
silken garments embroidered with gold, and seven trays of pure
brilliant gold, along with several baskets full of fruit.
On the following morning the dervise with his forty attendants
proceeded to the house of Husn Banu. Now although this dervise was a
man in appearance, he possessed the nature of Shaïtan the fiend, and
when going on his way he would not deign to tread the earth: for his
slaves paved his path with bricks of gold and silver, and on these
alone he placed his feet and walked; and in this mode of marching he
came to Husn Banu’s house. When the latter was informed that the
dervise was arrived, she ordered them to cover the space extending
from the outer gate to the interior of the house with carpets
embroidered with gold and silver, on which the pious man might walk.
After the dervise stepped upon the carpet, he entered the house, and
was seated on a throne befitting a king.
Husn Banu in the first place brought for the acceptance of the dervise
the trays full of gold and silver, which he accepted not, saying,
“These sculptured pieces of worldly dross are of no service to me.”
When they saw that the dervise would not accept the money, they then
brought him the baskets filled with sweet fruits, and laid them on the
table. All the trays and other dishes, and also the dish-covers, were
of gold and silver, as were likewise the ewers and goglets; and the
whole display was princely. The couches and screens were richly
embroidered with gold, and they placed before the dervise food of
every kind and variety, and sweetmeats of every description; and they
waited upon him for washing his hands, with ewers and goglets of gold.
The arrangements of the table being finished the dervise began to eat;
but ever and anon his eye wandered to the gold and the various
utensils, and he said in his heart: “Gracious heaven! what a wealthy
man Burzakh the merchant must have been, who possessed in his house
treasures and stores to such an extent that it seems almost the wealth
of a crowned head!” He at the same time considered in his heart, “This
very night we must come into the house of Burzakh’s daughter and seize
this treasure and furniture--we must have recourse to theft.” When the
dervise had finished eating, they presented him with perfumes; but he
all along had his eyes on the various movables.
After some time, as evening approached, the dervise took leave of Husn
Banu. Her waiting men and other servants who had been in attendance on
the dervise went to sleep. When about a watch of the night had passed,
the dervise with his forty satellites, who were complete thieves,
entered the house of Husn Banu, and having killed such of her people
as attempted to give the alarm, securely carried off the whole
property. Husn Banu with her nurse having ensconced themselves in the
lattice, were observing the thieves, and knew them. After the latter
had gone and the morning advanced, Husn Banu having taken with her a
few of her domestics who had survived from the hands of that
treacherous villain, came to the king’s court, and represented her
grievance. The king asked, “Who is this, and against whom does she
demand justice?” The attendants replied, “Sire, this is the daughter
of Burzakh the merchant; she says, if it please the king, she will
come to his presence and represent her own case.” The king summoned
Husn Banu to his presence; she stated, “Long live the king! Yesterday,
as a sacred duty, I gave an entertainment to a dervise, and bestowed
on him my food; and this last night he has committed murder in my
house. He with his forty attendants privately entered my dwelling and
carried off the whole amount of my money and property, and my people
lie slain and wounded; thus has the dark-minded dervise acted towards
me.” The king on hearing this accusation was enraged and said:
“Foolish woman, bringest thou accusations against the most eminent of
the age? he covets nothing earthly.” Husn Banu replied, “Oh, upright
prince! he deserves not to be called the _eminent_ but rather the
fiend of the age.” At this reply the king grew furious, and ordered
that both herself and her attendants should be stoned to death, in
order that others might take warning, and not utter such calumnies
respecting his Majesty’s confessor and counsellor. Here the prime
minister stood up and said, “Sire, this is the daughter of Burzakh the
merchant, and you have been pleased already to shew her kindness; but
now when her father is no more, if you cause the daughter to be thus
put to death, then will perish from the hearts of your subjects all
confidence in the king’s protection towards their surviving children;
and instead thereof, they will be filled with distrust: for this
reason, Sire, I have deemed it proper to warn you.” To this the king
replied, “Well, for the sake of Burzakh, we shall spare her life; but
you shall expel her from the city and confiscate her house; this
instant she must be sent without the gates.” The people executed the
order, and Husn Banu and her nurse turned their faces to the desert
with weeping and lamentation; and the attendants of the hapless lady,
reduced to ruin, wandered through the streets of the city. Husn Banu
frequently said, “Oh, mother! this dervise has been a grievous curse
to us; and yet, oh, God! what crime have we committed that we should
be involved in such calamities?” The nurse endeavored to console her,
saying, “My child, no remedy can be applied against the revolutions of
fortune.”
In a few days they reached the desert, where, underneath a shady tree,
exhausted with hunger and thirst, they fell asleep. To Husn Banu a man
appeared in a dream, saying, “Be not sorrowful, underneath this tree
is buried the treasure of the seven regions, which wealth the king of
truth has here kept hidden for thy sake: arise and take possession
thereof.” She said, “I am a woman and alone, how can I bring it out of
the earth?” To this the man replied, “Do thou dig a little with a
spade; let the means be applied by thee, and God will grant success.
Moreover, no one is able forcibly to deprive thee of this wealth:
arise then and build a city on this spot.”
The lady and her nurse accordingly got up, and with a piece of wood
began to dig the earth, when instantly a pit full of yellow gold
presented itself. It seemed like seven houses filled with pure gold,
and also chests full of jewels of every description. There were
likewise four cups full of rubies and costly pearls of the size of
ducks’-eggs. Husn Banu rejoiced, and in conformity with the true
faith, she stooped to the ground and rendered thousands of thanks to
God the Most High. She then handed some of the gold to her nurse, and
said, “Mother, do you return to the city and procure us people, and
bring us some food to eat and raiment to put on, and at the same time
look out for laborers and architects, for on this spot I will build a
solid edifice.” The nurse objected, saying, “How can I leave you here
alone until some one else arrive?” Whilst they were in this
conversation, who should pass by but the foster-brother of Husn Banu,
dressed in a mendicant’s habit. He recognized them and fell at the
feet of Husn Banu, who weeping from joy lifted him up to her side, and
consoled him, saying, “Brother, be of good cheer, God, the great and
glorious, has bestowed on us abundance of wealth, even beyond
calculation. Take part of it and proceed to the city; bring hither all
my dependents and relations, and purchase tents and bring them, for on
this spot we shall build lofty edifices, forming a spacious city; but
you must not communicate this secret to any one.” The brother having
taken part of the gold came to the city; and having assembled Husn
Banu’s former dependents, who wandered begging about the streets, he
procured elegant tents, and returned with them. Husn Banu, delighted,
had the tents erected; and soon after her brother went a second time
to the city, and waited on the principal builders, saying, “Send along
with me your brother craftsmen; my master intends to build a mansion
in the desert: he is a most generous man, and will reward you amply.”
The builder to whom he spoke sent one of his brothers, named Muâmmir,
along with Husn Banu’s foster-brother, and both returned to where that
lady resided. The builder selected a pleasant spot, and there erected
a lofty mansion; and Husn Banu bestowed on him a liberal remuneration.
The builder, thus enriched, sent for his friends and strenuously
labored in the rearing of edifices, the digging of wells, and the
building of a palace.
Husn Banu shewed them the greatest kindness, and said, “Now we must
have a city built here.” Muâmmir replied, that it was not lawful to
build a city without an order from the king; but if his Majesty should
grant permission, it would then be an easy matter. Husn Banu admitted
the truth of this remark; and having dressed herself in man’s apparel,
she mounted an Arab steed, and summoned several of her attendants. She
also carried with her for a present, a cup full of rubies and a casket
of brilliant jewels, and thus proceeded to the city, where she arrived
a few days after. She then made presents to the king’s officers, who
speedily conveyed the information to their master, that a certain
merchant had arrived from abroad, and that he wished to offer presents
to the king; that he now stood at the gate, a man of beautiful
countenance and elegant form. The king gave orders to bring him in.
Husn Banu accordingly entered, and after performing her obeisance to
the king, she presented to him the casket of jewels and the cup full
of rubies. When the king beheld the jewels and the cup, he was highly
delighted, and said, “Sir, whence art thou?” She replied, “My father
was a merchant of Iram, and in the course of events he died at sea. As
I happened to be passing this way and had heard of your Majesty’s good
qualities, my desire of expressing my attachment and of tendering my
humble services became excessive. It is the wish of your slave to pass
the remainder of his life in the service of your Highness. When
admitted to kiss the threshold of your sublime gates, my prosperity
will become permanent and my happiness complete. Now I have no
kindred; I am an orphan, and have pitched my tents, in a tract of the
desert, where I hope, through your majesty’s kindness and generosity,
I may be allowed to build a city.” At this statement the king shewed
much sympathy, and presented the stranger with a dress of honor,
adding, with the greatest courtesy and affection, “As you have no
father, let me be as a father to you, and let me adopt you as my son.”
Husn Banu, with profound obeisance, replied, “Since your Majesty has
adopted me into the royal family, and has raised from the dust this
abject slave, let me state that my name is Behram; may I hope that my
name will be deemed fit for this threshold, of which may the head be
exalted.” Hereupon Kurdan Shah bestowed on Husn Banu the name of
Mahrū Shah[b1.02] and said, “My dear son, the desert is far distant,
you must build your city near my capital, and I shall call your city
by the name of Shahabad.” Husn Banu respectfully replied, “May the
king’s life-time be long. I have taken a fancy to that desert, and
besides it would be disrespectful to build any city in the vicinity of
your Majesty’s capital. May I hope that an order will be issued to the
principal architects enjoining them to make preparations for the
building of a city.” Kurdan Shah gave his orders to the architects to
that effect, and taking a most affectionate leave of Husn Banu, said,
“My dear son, when will you return? you must not deprive me long of
your visits.” Husn Banu, making a profound obeisance, said, “I hope
that once every month I may kiss the threshold of your Majesty.”
Pleased and happy, Husn Banu returned to the desert, and ordered
Muâmmir to draw up the plan of a city. Having sent for more artists
to proceed speedily with the building, Muâmmir engaged in the
building of the edifices which were to form the city, and promoted the
work night and day with all expedition. Husn Banu from month to month
made a journey to the city to visit the king, whose kindness and
affection towards her were daily increasing. After two or three years
a spacious city was built, and its name was called Shahabad; after
which, Husn Banu ordered the builders to be munificently rewarded. It
happened one day after Husn Banu had arrived to wait upon the king,
that his Majesty was proceeding to visit the dervise formerly
mentioned, and his eye having caught Husn Banu, he said, “My dear
Mahrū Shah, to-day I am going to visit the most eminent man of the
age: if you have a desire to do me a favor, pray accompany me; for to
have seen this saint of the time is of itself eternal felicity.” In
reply, Husn Banu said, “Truly my happiness in this is twofold; first,
in being honored with the sight of this eminent personage; and,
secondly, in attending your Majesty thither”; but in her heart she
said that the sight of such a fiend was an abomination. In short, she
accompanied the king to the abode of the dervise, and in conformity
with his Majesty’s example, paid her respects to that pious man.
Kurdan Shah spoke much in praise and commendation of Mahrū Shah, who
in the meanwhile held down her head and listened, thinking in her own
mind, “These praises are on account of the jewels and cup which I
presented; for otherwise I am the daughter of Burzakh the merchant,
and this king once expelled me from his city.”
When the king was about to take leave of the dervise, Husn Banu
respectfully stood up and said, “If your holiness will deign to visit
my house, I hope it will not be unbecoming the condescension of the
illustrious.” The execrable dervise said, “I will assuredly come”; and
Husn Banu observed, “The house of your slave is far distant, but in
the capital is the residence of Burzakh the merchant, a house which is
very commodious, and which I hope you will honor with a visit.” She
then addressed the king, saying, “The house of Burzakh happens to be
unoccupied; may I be favored for a few days with the use of it, that I
may perform my respects to his holiness without his having the trouble
of going a distance; and after giving him a feast, I shall proceed to
my own city.” The king asked her, “Whence, my son, have you known the
name of Burzakh?” Husn Banu replied, “There are many men in this city
who were in his service; of them I have learned that such a house was
suitable for a few days’ residence.” The king said, “I bestow upon you
that house as a present.”
Husn Banu having made her obeisance came to her father’s house; and
when she found it fallen to decay she gave vent to many a tear, and
issued orders to have it repaired. Meanwhile she herself went to the
city, and about a month after she sent to her father’s house the
materials for the entertainment, consisting of trays of gold and
silver, and vessels also of gold and silver; and having taken a cup
full of rubies and jewels likewise she carried them with her. She then
sent forward her attendants to the mansion, and went herself before
the king, and said, “Now I will go for some days to the house of
Burzakh; to-morrow I expect to entertain the renowned dervise with a
banquet, and pass some time in attendance upon him.” On this, the king
observed, “It is well, such being the choice of my son; but consider
this house even as your own.” Husn Banu stood up and spoke: “This
befriended slave of your august Highness is truly fortunate, but is
unable to express a suitable acknowledgment. All the choice remaining
in this slave is in the will of your Majesty, wheresoever you command
me there I will stay.” The king added, “Wheresoever you be, let your
heart be at ease.”
Husn Banu having taken leave of the king went to her father’s house,
and ordered the materials for the banquet to be prepared. She also
sent one of her servants to wait upon the dervise, and say that, if
his Holiness would deign to visit her next day, it would be the
highest favor. When the detestable Azrak heard the word banquet, he
replied that he would assuredly come next day. Husn Banu ordered a
princely throne, as on the previous occasion, and got ready the
entertainment. Next day the abominable dervise came, and Husn Banu
presented for his acceptance the jewels and the cup of rubies which
she had brought with her; the dervise rejected them all. She at the
same time placed all her movables on a side-board, in order that the
eye of the dervise might constantly fall upon them, and that his
avarice might be increased. The dervise observed them, and said in his
heart, “To-night I shall make some contrivance for carrying off all
this treasure”; and Husn Banu was at the same time rejoicing in her
heart, thinking, “This night I shall have you with all this property
tied together and carried before the king.”
In short, they brought the banquet before him, and presented him with
water to wash his hands[b1.03], and offered him food of every
description; and the dervise along with his forty attendants began to
eat. After having taken a few mouthfuls, he commanded that they should
desist. Husn Banu made many apologies, and said, “Do me the kindness
to eat, for your so doing will be happiness to your slave.” The
dervise answered, saying, “To the pious a few mouthfuls are
sufficient; to please you I have eaten heartily, but my usual food
consists of a few grains of wheat.” When they had ceased from eating,
they were presented with perfumes; but the dervise was saying in his
heart, “The whole of this property is mine.” After some time the
villainous Azrak took leave of Mahrū Shah and came to his own house,
and deliberated with his attendant dervises one with another, saying,
“I have made a vow, and consecrated it, and all the food you have
eaten is to you as well as myself an accursed thing, till you bring
away the jewels, the gold, and the silver.” All the attendants said,
“It is well”; and when the night set in, the whole of them with their
chief were in readiness for the theft.
Husn Banu also consulted her own people; and ordered them to leave the
whole property in the same way as at the banquet, and open all the
doors. She also wrote an explanatory letter to the captain of the
night-watch, concluding, “We shall be on our guard here; do you also
come and place yourselves in ambush, and the instant that my people
raise a shout, present yourselves with the utmost speed.” She then
charged her own people, saying, “When the thieves come, you are not to
move till they, after having seized the property, are on their return;
then you shall bind them all fast with the goods in their possession;
and give the signal to the captain, that he may come and seize them.”
Husn Banu’s men, agreeably to what their mistress had commanded,
stationed themselves as quietly as if they were dead. Meanwhile, Azrak
with his forty pious satellites arrived and entered the residence of
Mahrū Shah, and all the property in money or effects which was found
they tied up in bundles, and were carrying them off; Azrak himself
having taken in his hands the cup full of rubies, was returning with
them. At that instant Husn Banu’s people and those belonging to the
captain rushed from their hiding-places, and bound the thieves with
their hands behind their backs, whose hearts were like to burst from
spite. The thieves were then consigned to the charge of the
night-watch, each having the bundle which he carried fastened to his
neck. Strict orders were issued to secure them fast till morning, when
the affair should be decided before the king.
When Husn Banu saw that the enemy were overpowered and taken captives,
she called her servants and rewarded them munificently, and then said,
“So much of the night still remains, that you may pass the time in
repose.” Next morning, when the king opened the public court, and was
seated on the throne of royalty, he observed, “This last night there
was a great uproar; does any one know the cause of it?” During this,
the captain entered, and gave his report, saying, “About the time of
midnight a gang of thieves entered the residence of Mahrū Shah, the
house that belonged to Burzakh the merchant; they had seized all the
property that Mahrū Shah had taken thither with him, and were on
their return when information was given to me. I hurried to the spot,
and having secured the thieves with the property, I have now brought
them before the public court; and of the truth of this, Sire, we are
certain for we have witnessed the fact.” When they were thus
discoursing, Mahrū Shah entered and made his obeisance. The king
having caused him to be seated, said, “My son, pray did the thieves
last night break into your house?” Husn Banu said, in reply, “Long
live your Majesty: the captain of the city arrived with assistance in
time; and now it will be best to summon the thieves into your royal
presence.” The king ordered them to be brought. The captain led them
before the king in a row, at the head of which was Azrak with the cup
of rubies suspended to his neck, and after him the other dervises,
each having the bundle which he had stolen fastened to his neck, and
his hands tied behind him.
The instant the king saw them he remarked, that, “This man at their
head greatly resembles a certain dervise.” Husn Banu said, “Please
your Majesty, let them be called nearer, and closely inspected; it is
impossible that he should be the pious dervise.” The king made a
signal to the captain, who made the thieves one by one with his bundle
pass before his Majesty. The captain having thus sent them by turns,
Husn Banu rose up, and seizing the hand of the dervise with the cup of
rubies, led him before the king. His Majesty asked, “What is this
fastened to the neck of Azrak?” Husn Banu displayed the cup of rubies
to the king’s sight. The king was lost in amazement, and at last said,
“Let every one of them be executed on the scaffold, in order that the
rest of the priesthood may be deterred from such villainy, and that
they may not mislead the people; and let them also be stripped naked.”
When the thieves were stripped of their clothes, all their implements
for thieving were discovered. The king issued an order, stating, “Let
them be speedily executed on the gibbet, and let whatever property
belongs to Mahrū Shah be returned to his own possession.”
When Husn Banu saw that they were conveying Azrak to execution, she
arose from her seat and stood with hands joined before the king. His
Majesty said, “What is your request?” Husn Banu replied, “Oh, my Lord,
I am the hereditary child of your court, nay, I am your Majesty’s
adopted daughter, the child of Burzakh the merchant. I am she whom
your Majesty on account of this very dervise sentenced to banishment
from your capital. The property that belonged to my father is still in
the residence of the dervise; his house must, therefore, be searched,
that the whole of his villainy may be discovered, and that the
veracity of your daughter’s declaration may be confirmed before your
Majesty.” The king, on hearing these words, was greatly surprised, and
gave orders for searching the house of Azrak. He then addressed Husn
Banu, saying, “I lately called thee my child, _there my tongue uttered
and my mind conceived what was true_. Thou art no longer Burzakh’s
daughter, thou art my own daughter.”--“May I hope then,” said Husn
Banu, “that your Highness will condescend to visit the house of your
daughter in the desert; there I have immense wealth, which I will
freely bestow on him who is both my king and my father.” To this
invitation his Majesty agreed; and in the meantime all the property
left by Burzakh was discovered in the house of Azrak, and Husn Banu
having presented the same to the king, returned to Shahabad, and
ordered the streets of the city to be adorned on each side with
elegant mirrors preparatory to his Majesty’s visit. Two days after,
Kurdan Shah arrived at Shahabad, where Husn Banu received him with due
honors, and conducted him to her own palace. She then presented his
Majesty with another cup full of rubies and a golden tray filled with
costly jewels, after which she pointed out the seven pits containing
the gold.
His Majesty was delighted, and Husn Banu requested him to issue orders
to his attendants for conveying the gold by loads to the royal
treasury. The king gave orders to that effect to his prime minister,
who along with the accountants proceeded to the mouth of the pit.
Whenever they attempted to take up the gold in order to convey it
away, the whole of it was turned into the forms of serpents and
dragons. The attendants were terrified, and sent notice of the
circumstance to the king. His Majesty on hearing this was astonished,
and Husn Banu’s countenance turned pale whilst she dreaded what
proceedings he might adopt. The king observed her anxiety, and said,
“My child, why has thy countenance turned pale? Let nothing disturb
thy mind, but be of good cheer, for this gold is destined for thee,
and over it I have no power. Whatsoever thou pleasest do with it, take
it into thy own possession and use it.” Husn Banu, making her
obeisance, addressed the king with the following request: “Sire, it is
my wish to make this city my home, and to spend this treasure in the
service of God, and also that no one may molest my retirement.” Kurdan
Shah in courteous phrase replied, “Wheresoever thou dwellest thou art
my child, and hast the command of this treasure in thy own hand; do,
therefore, as thou thinkest fit.”
Kurdan Shah then sent back his people to guard his palace, and he
himself, after residing seven days at the house of Husn Banu, returned
to the capital. After that, Husn Banu fitted up another house for
entertaining travellers, and bounteously furnished every individual
with food and drink suitable to his rank, and presented him at his
departure with money for his journey, and such other articles as might
be deemed useful, shewing her guests every attention. In a short time
the name of Husn Banu, was celebrated by the travellers through every
city and town to this effect: “There is a young lady not yet married,
by name Husn Banu, who is extremely bounteous towards her
fellow-creatures. Her servants and attendants are so endowed with
integrity that they will not defraud the stranger of a single
farthing. Gracious heaven! what an age is this, when menials are so
conscientious! What wonderful liberality, whereby they freely bestow
golden coins upon the poor! In the present times, people of the world
in general feel reluctant for every farthing they give to the poor,
and menials without scruple pilfer men’s property; but such as these
have neither the fear of God nor regard for the Prophet.” In short,
Husn Banu’s fame shone clearer than the sun throughout the quarters of
the earth as far as the confines of the world.
The History of Shahzada Munir.
Historians have informed us that there was a certain king of Kharzim
who had a son accomplished in mind; and that, through the medium of
several men of intelligence, the fame of Husn Banu came to the hearing
of this prince. In the heart of this youth was formed an eager desire
to see Husn Banu; he therefore sent his own painter with the view of
having a sight of Husn Banu, so as to have a portrait of her drawn and
brought to him. The painter departed, and after several days arrived
in Shahabad, where Husn Banu’s people, according to their custom,
attended and presented him with food, shewing him every attention.
After some stay, when about to take leave, they conveyed him to Husn
Banu’s presence; she kindly inquired into his circumstances, and
offered him money for his journey. The painter said, “My wish is to
serve under your government, and spend the remainder of my life on
your threshold.” Husn Banu asked, “What is your profession?”--“I am,”
said he, “a painter, who can delineate the moon from behind a
curtain.”[b1.04] Husn Banu then said, “Well, you may delay your
departure for a little.” Some short time after she began to consider
in her mind, “How can I get a portrait of myself, for the painter is a
stranger. However, what will be the harm of his delineating my
features from behind a curtain?” The painter said, “Most bountiful
lady, do you stand on the roof of the house[b1.05], and cause a
vessel full of water to be placed below, then look down into that
vessel.” Husn Banu did so, and the painter seeing her form in the
water, drew the picture and went with it to his own house, where he
delineated every line and mole[b1.06] that existed on the original.
He at the same time made two copies of the portrait, one of which he
presented to Husn Banu, and the other he kept for himself. Shortly
after, he requested leave of Husn Banu to return for his family, if
agreeable to her; on which she furnished him with money for the
journey, and granted him permission.
The painter then conveyed the portrait of Husn Banu to his own prince,
who, the instant he saw the picture, became quite frantic. When he
returned to his senses, he determined in his own mind to set off
without his father’s leave; and without money or necessaries for the
journey, without informing any one of his design, and taking no one
with him, he put his trust in God, and at the dead of night departed
for Shahabad, where in due time he arrived, after encountering the
fatigues of the road. Husn Banu’s people brought him food, as was
their wont with regard to others, and shewed him all possible
attention. Next morning they offered the prince coins of yellow gold,
saying, “Accept this for expenditure on your way.” The prince replied,
“To me gold is of no use.” Husn Banu’s people observed, “You seem
penniless, pray accept this gold, for our lady bestows it in the
service of God.” As he persisted in saying that it had no value for
him, they informed Husn Banu, that “a traveller arrived yesterday, who
will neither eat food sufficient for him, nor accept gold.” Husn Banu
having summoned him to her presence, said, “Well, stranger, why do you
refuse gold? Gold is a thing which in times of difficulty people find
useful; it converts the pale countenance to red.” The prince replied,
“When I came hither, I left much treasure and gold behind me. I am
Prince of Kharzim; thy portrait has driven me mad, and my ardent
desire to see thy face has sent me hither.” Husn Banu held down her
head, and after some time said, “Young man, abandon such vain ideas;
if you were the zephyr itself, you should not have wafted your breath
over my ringlets.” The prince to this replied, “At least I will
sacrifice my miserable life at thy gates.”--“To give away your life,”
said Husn Banu, “is easy, but to see my face is impossible: however,
if this idea has found a place in your heart, then you must submit to
my injunctions.” The prince said, “Command me, and I shall from my
soul consider it as a favor.” Husn Banu said, “The first thing I have
to propose is this saying, ‘_What I once saw, I long for a second
time_’; and you must travel till you find an explanation of it. Inform
me where the man is that utters these words, and also what he has
seen. After you have brought me a solution of this first enigma, I
shall tell you the second.” The prince asked where that man dwelt; to
which Husn Banu replied, “If I myself knew that, I should have sent my
own people for the investigation of the circumstance.” The prince held
down his head for some time, and then said, “I am ignorant in what
direction I ought to go.”--“Then,” replied Husn Banu, “banish from
your thought the idea of seeing my face.” Here the prince observed,
“Thus bewildered, whither can I go? I have at least one resource left,
and that is to die in thy city.”--“In my city,” said Husn Banu, “there
is no room for such as speak thus foolishly; my people would not
suffer your remaining.” Hereupon the prince said, “I suppose I must
direct my steps towards the desert, in order to find the way and
explore the intricacies leading to the abode of that man who exclaims
in the words above-mentioned. If my stars prove friendly it is well,
and if otherwise, I will sacrifice my life for thee.” Husn Banu then
stated, “It will be requisite to enter into an agreement as to the
length of time for which I am to expect your return.” To this the
prince said, “For the space of a year.”
Husn Banu then ordered them to present him with food to eat and water
to wash his hands; and having furnished him with necessaries for his
journey, she requested to know his name. The prince replied, that his
name was Munīr Shamī[b1.07]; and then taking leave of Husn Banu,
like one deprived of sight and hearing, he shaped his course to the
wilderness, and with tears in his eyes began to traverse the mountains
and the deserts. In short, the prince wandered towards the borders of
Yemen, and sitting down underneath a tree in the desert, he gave vent
to his tears copiously as the showers of early spring. It happened
that Hatim Taï was passing that way on a hunting excursion, and
came close by the prince Munīr. Hatim seeing a handsome youth with
elegant apparel thus weeping, his heart melted on his account, and his
eyes were filled with tears, as he said, “What calamity can have
befallen this stranger? I must go and inquire.” He went up to the
prince, and in condoling language asked him, “Oh, brother! what
distress has happened, what accident has occurred, that thou weepest
so?” The prince raised his head, and was surprised at seeing a youth
of pleasant countenance, and of air and gait noble as the sun, the
flowers in the rosebud of his cheeks fully blown, clothed in elegant
apparel, and having his person accoutred with armor, standing by him
and interesting himself in his condition. He replied then, “Oh, youth
of benignant countenance, to me what avails the mentioning of my
sorrows, which can be alleviated neither by my telling nor by your
hearing?” Hatim said to him, “Let your mind be at ease; communicate to
me the secrets of your heart, and whatsoever lies in my power, as my
trust is in God, I will not fail to perform. I will supply you with
money if it be of use to you; and my frail life is constantly devoted
to the service of the Almighty, which consists in relieving the
distress of my fellow-creatures.” The prince Munīr, in rapture,
exclaimed, “Oh, brother! may God preserve your life,” and instantly
taking out Husn Banu’s portrait, which he kept in his bosom, he handed
it to Hatim, and said, “Judge yourself what must be my condition.”
Hatim looked at the portrait and remained for some time in a state of
abstraction; at length, he said, “With regard to those questions which
she proposes, if you can suggest to me any plan, I will use every
exertion in its accomplishment.”
In short, Hatim carried the prince along with him into Yemen, and
there hospitably entertained him. After they had rested three days, he
asked the prince whether he had any method to point out by which he
could serve him. The prince replied, “Alas! I can propose nothing; to
you I resign the affair and its accomplishment, and will remain
grateful for your kindness while I have the breath of life.” Hatim
called his domestics and strictly charged them, saying, “You shall
continue to supply travellers with food, and the poor with money, the
same as if I myself were present; so that it may not be known that I
have gone anywhere from home, and let each of you be diligently
occupied in his own department.” Having issued these orders, he took
the prince by the hand, and set out from the capital of Yemen on the
road that leads to Shahabad, where, in the course of time, after
encountering the toils of the journey, they both arrived.
Husn Banu’s people conveyed them to the caravanseraï, presented them
with food, and offered them gold. Hatim rejected both, saying, “Worthy
people, I have not come hither for food or gold; I will neither taste
of the one nor accept of the other.” Of this the people informed Husn
Banu, who having summoned them both to her presence, said to them,
“Why do you refuse gold, a thing which will one day be of service to
you? The wise have remarked, ‘A thing laid by, will be found useful,
though it be even the head of a serpent.’”[b1.08] Hatim observing
that the amassing of gold was proper only for the purpose of
distributing it, stated, “Lady, the fame of your beauty and
perfections has reached my ears; now if you will agree to one request
of mine, I will accept of your gold and eat of your food, but
otherwise I will depart hungry and thirsty from your city.” Husn Banu
asked him, “Stranger, what is the request with which you wish me to
comply?” Hatim answered, saying, “For one instant unveil your face,
and afterwards I shall do whatsoever you command.” Husn Banu said,
“Till once you have brought a solution to my seven questions, it will
be impossible for you to see me unveiled.” Hatim asked what the seven
questions were; and without waiting the reply, added, “You must
promise me further that, if I should answer them, you shall become
mine, and that on whomsoever I may bestow you, you shall not dispute
my commands.” Husn Banu assented, saying, “When I shall have become
yours, you shall do with me what you think proper; you can either
bestow me on any other person, or cause me to remain in your own
house.” Hatim then observed, that it would be requisite to call some
witnesses, in whose presence this agreement might be ratified. This
was accordingly done, and Hatim had the agreement confirmed before
several people. After this, food was presented, of which they partook,
and Hatim addressing Husn Banu, said, “This prince is my brother, who
is to remain in your city till my return, and to him I expect that you
will pay some attention.” To this Husn Banu assented, and Hatim then
requested to know her first question. “My first question,” replied
Husn Banu, “is this: There is a certain man who exclaims, ‘_What I
once saw, I long for a second time_.’ Where is that man? what has he
seen? and why does he long for the same a second time? When you have
brought me all this information, I shall then tell you my second
question.” Hatim having heard this, took leave of Husn Banu, and
having conducted the prince Munīr to the house appointed for guests,
he set out on his perilous journey.
Hatim began to consider in his mind, “Now, where am I to go, of whom
can I ask my way, and what plan ought I to adopt?” But, on further
reflection, he said to himself, “I have, by the aid of God, devoted my
whole exertions to the service of my fellow-creatures, without any
selfish consideration: assuredly, then, my Creator will conduct me to
the proper place.” With this reflection, he fixed his reliance on God,
and proceeded towards the wilderness. After a few days he arrived in a
desert where not a bird was seen to flap its wing. Two or three days
thence he was startled at seeing a wolf in pursuit of a milch doe, and
so near that he was on the point of seizing her. Hatim shouted aloud
to the wolf, “Ravenous animal, desist, she has a young one, and the
milk flows from her breast.” The wolf stood still, and said,
“Undoubtedly you are Hatim, as your heart is endowed with such
compassion.” He asked, “How do you know that I am Hatim?” The wolf
replied, “There is none but Hatim who evinces compassion and kindness
to this extent towards his fellow-creatures, rational and irrational;
and the name of Hatim is renowned in every quarter. But as you have
this day withheld me from my prey, let me now have something to
eat.”--“What do you eat?” said Hatim. The wolf answered, “Flesh is my
food.” Hatim said to him, “If the small quantity of flesh which is on
my body be agreeable to you, say the word, and I will give it
you.”--“Nothing can be better,” replied the wolf, “than the flesh on
your thigh.” Hatim then unsheathed his knife, and having cut away the
flesh from his own thigh, he threw it to the wolf. The latter ate, and
was satisfied, and said, “Oh, Hatim! why have you left your own
capital of Yemen, and for what reason do you wander in this desert?”
Hatim told the wolf, that the prince Munīr Shamī had fallen in love
with Husn Banu; that she had seven questions for proposing, and that
she was to accept only that man who could answer them; “and I,” said
Hatim, “have undertaken, through the aid of Providence, to accomplish
this task. The first question is this: ‘Where is the man who exclaims,
_What I once saw, I long for a second time_?’ In order to be informed
of this I sallied forth, recommending myself to God; but not knowing
where that man is, I have directed my course to the desert, and thus
far I have advanced.” The wolf here replied, “I do not know myself the
place where that man is, but I have heard from the report of others
that his abode is in the desert of Hăwaïda, and that whosoever goes
thither will see him.” Hatim asked the wolf whether he knew where the
desert of Hăwaïda lay; to which he answered, “As you go forward from
hence, the road branches into two; avoid the path to the left, and
proceed on that to the right hand, and it will lead you to the desert
of Hăwaïda.”
Meanwhile the doe, having testified her gratitude to Hatim, departed;
and the wolf likewise took his leave. Each of these animals looked
back to see whether Hatim followed them; but the pain arising from his
wound was so intense that he could not proceed, and he fell down at
the side of a tree. It happened that underneath that tree a pair of
jackals had formed their haunt, and were at that moment absent in
search of food. When the two jackals, who were a male and a female,
returned, they observed Hatim asleep, and the following dialogue
ensued between them: “Here is one of the human race; how has he been
brought hither? We must quit this place, for he can have no sympathy
towards creatures of a different species.” _M._ “It is probable that
this is Hatim on his way to explore the desert of Hăwaïda; and he
has sunk down exhausted from the pain in his thigh.”--_F._ “How do you
know that this is Hatim?”--_M._ “I have been informed by the learned
that on a certain day Hatim should arrive at this tree.”--_F._ “What
sort of a personage is Hatim?”--_M._ “He is Prince of Yemen, and one
of God’s elect, and many a trial awaits him; we must not leave him
distressed in heart.”--_F._ “How has he fallen into this state?”--_M._
“A wolf was about to seize a milch doe, and Hatim cut the flesh from
his own thigh, and gave it to the wolf in lieu of the doe, which he
thus preserved by involving himself in calamity.”--_F._ “Among the
human race, are there really some who are thus endowed with humanity?
Heaven knows, there is little compassion in mankind!”--_M._ “The human
race are the noblest of God’s creatures; and Hatim in particular is
extremely generous, endowed with humanity, and of high honor; he is
also one who feareth and adoreth the Creator, for whose sake he tore
off his own flesh and gave it to the wolf.”--_F._ “Thus wounded in the
thigh, how can he live? or when can he reach the desert of
Hăwaïda?”--_M._ “If the brains of the fowl called the Părīrū[b1.09]
could be applied to his wound, a complete cure would take place in the
space of an hour; but this remedy it is almost impossible to procure
from the place where it is.”--_F._ “Where is it to be found?”--_M._
“In the desert of Mazanderan; it is a fowl like a peacock, with a head
like that of the human race. He allures all those who attempt to seize
him, by giving them sherbet to drink, by the gracefulness of his
movements and the sweetness of his looks.”--_F._ “Who is it then that
can bring this remedy, and by the grace of God restore Hatim to
health?”--_M._ “If you will attend to this youth for the space of
seven days, I will go and bring the head of that fowl.”--_F._ “Nothing
can be better, for _it will be an instance of humanity from the part
of the brute creation towards the human race_. Until you return, while
life remains in my body, I will not suffer a living creature to come
near this youth.”
Hatim listened to the conversation of the jackals, but he was so
exhausted that he had not strength to raise up. Meanwhile the male
jackal, leaving the female, set out for Mazanderan; and on his arrival
there, he saw the animal he was in quest of, sleeping underneath a
tree. He approached it, and seizing its head in his mouth, he gave it
such a pull that he severed it from the body, and returning with it he
arrived agreeably to his promise. The female during his absence had
rested neither night nor day, nor did she suffer any living creature
to approach the tree. Hatim was conscious of all this, how the jackal
having procured the head of the Părīrū, had now placed it before
his female companion. The female jackal then with her mouth forced
open the head, and having extracted the brain, applied it to Hatim’s
wound. The instant it was applied, Hatim’s pain was removed; he rose
up, and looking at the jackals, said, “You, though of the brute
creation, have acted most humanely towards me; but you have without
cause deprived another animal of life: in this you have not done
well.” The male jackal said, “For that crime let me be answerable; and
do you rest at ease. What, though I am of the brute creation, still I
acknowledge a merciful God.” About an hour passed in such discourse,
after which the flesh closed on Hatim’s wound, and he experienced a
complete cure. He then addressed the jackals, saying, “You have acted
most beneficently towards me; command me then in any way I can do you
a favor, and whatever service you will require of me I will with all
my heart and soul accomplish.” The jackals replied, “In this
neighborhood there live a couple of ravenous hyenas, that every year
devour our young ones, our strength being of no avail against them. If
it is in your power, remove from us their depredations, and it will be
doing us the highest favor.”
Hatim requested the jackal to shew him the haunt of the hyenas; which
being done, he set out, but found that the place was empty. He there
sat down till it was night, when both hyenas male and female arrived,
and were surprised at seeing a man stationed in their abode. Growling,
they said to him in their own language, “Oh, son of man! this is our
dwelling place, not yours; how came you to sit here? Arise, and go
your way, otherwise we shall tear you to pieces in this very spot.”
Hatim replied, “Creatures of the Almighty, your own lives are dear to
you, so ought you to consider the lives of others; and if you delight
in destroying life, tremble for your own. On what account do you
devour the young of the helpless jackals? Truly you have not the fear
of God, and you have need to repent.” They said to him, “How come you
to feel sympathy for the jackals? why do you not look after your own
affairs?” Hatim replied, “I beseech you, by that God who hath created
you and the whole universe, to abstain from eating their flesh; God is
bountiful, and he will assuredly send you sustenance.” The hyenas, in
answer to this, said, “We never will spare them.”
When Hatim found them thus callous and unmerciful, and disinclined to
act honestly, he instantly sprung forward and suspended himself to the
necks of the hyenas, by which means he threw them down, and fettered
them. He then considered with himself, “If I kill them it will be
contrary to my nature; for hitherto I have not inflicted pain on any
living creature.” But on farther reflection it came into his mind,
that it was highly proper to chastise ferocious animals. He therefore
drew forth his knife, and having broken the teeth and cut off the
claws of the hyenas he left them, and devoutly prayed to God to
relieve the pain of the animals. The hearer of prayers attended to
Hatim’s request, and removed the pain from the hyenas. Hatim then
untied the fetters and set the animals at liberty; they fell at his
feet, saying, “How can we henceforth obtain sustenance?” He replied,
“God is bountiful.” Meanwhile the jackals presented themselves, and
said, “Henceforth let the maintenance of the hyenas be left to our
care, and while we live we shall provide for them.”
Hatim took leave of the jackals and proceeded on his way through the
desert. After he had gone, the female jackal said to the male, “It
would be very unkind that Hatim should wander alone to the desert of
Hawaida, and you not to shew him the way.” Here the male jackal
running, made up to him, and said, “Oh, Hatim! let me accompany you to
Hawaida.” Hatim answered, “Already you have done me one kind deed,
which I have not yet requited; why then do you lay me under further
obligations?” To this the jackal said, “Servant of the Almighty, why
should I allow you to wander astray from the country?” Hatim replied,
“I will by no means take you away in my company; and if you have a
desire to set me on the right way, it is quite sufficient that you
shew me the proper path.” The jackal then said, “Oh, youth! there is
one way which is near, but it has dangers innumerable; and there is
another which is circuitous, and extremely rough; for this reason
allow me to go with you.” In reply to this, Hatim said, “Do you shew
me the nearest way, and God will render it smooth for me.” The jackal
then directed him, saying, “Go straight forward to a place where the
road divides into four branches, and then select that which leads
right on: it is the shortest way, and if you can go safe it will take
you to the desert of Hawaida.” Hatim bade adieu to the jackal and
advanced; and after one month he arrived at the four divisions of the
road, and keeping the direct path, advanced in the direction of the
desert.
After he had gone part of the way, several bears presented themselves
to his sight; for there the king of the bears with a thousand of these
uncouth animals held his court, and it happened on that particular day
that they were out on an excursion. When Hatim was seen by the bears,
they instantly sent intelligence to their king that they had that day
beheld one of the human race. His Majesty commanded them to seize the
man and bring him thither; and the bears having caught Hatim, carried
him with them. When the king of the bears minutely observed Hatim, he
gave orders that he should be taken care of, and conveyed to their
abode, to which they all returned. After this, when Hatim was brought
before the king, his Majesty said, “Descendant of Adam, be seated, and
tell us whence you came, and what is your name; but that is
unnecessary, for you are Hatim.” Hatim answered, “Yes, I am; and I
have come hither in the service of my Creator.” His Majesty then said
to him, “Truly you are most welcome, and I will give you my daughter
in marriage, for as yet I have met with none so proper for a
son-in-law that I could bestow her on him, as it would be unbecoming
to espouse her to any of my subjects or servants.” On hearing this
tempting proposal, Hatim held down his head. The king of the bears
asked him, “What is the cause of your holding down your head? have you
nothing to say in reply? am I forsooth unworthy of being your
father-in-law?” Hatim at last said, “You are of the brute creation, I
of the human race, what conformity is there between us?” The bear
said, “Oh, Hatim! rest you content on that score, and let nothing
disturb your mind, for my daughter is of your own species.”
His Majesty then ordered his daughter to be arrayed and presented, and
said to Hatim, “Go and look at her for one instant.” Hatim rose up,
and beheld a female in human shape, and beautiful as the moon in her
fourteenth night. He was wrapt in wonder, and having returned to his
Majesty, he said, “You are a king and I am a beggar; it would be
disrespectful in me to presume to espouse your daughter.” The bear
replied, “You shall accept of her, notwithstanding every objection
which you can contrive. Pray are you not Prince of Yemen?” Hatim began
to reflect, “What a scrape I have fallen into! I have come forth on a
particular service; how then can I remain captive here?” The bear
observed his thoughtfulness a second time, and said, “Oh, Hatim! if
you accept not my daughter, I shall send you into a place of
confinement, where you shall remain fast till the day of judgment.”
Here Hatim attempted a reply, but the bear became angry, and ordered
them to confine Hatim in a certain dungeon, and keep strict watch over
him. Instantly the bears carried Hatim to the dungeon, and having
removed a large stone of extreme hardness they made him fast, and
replaced the stone as before on the mouth of the dungeon. In this
hole, Hatim, hungry, thirsty, and bewildered, was left for the space
of two weeks, at the expiration of which the king sent for him, and
having made him sit beside him, said, “Oh, Hatim! will you now espouse
my daughter?” Hatim still remained silent, and the king ordered fruits
to be brought and presented to him. Hatim being hungry, ate of the
fruit and quenched his thirst with pure water, after which the bear
again insisted on his marrying his daughter. To this, Hatim at last
replied, that there could be no relationship between mankind and other
animals; on hearing which, the king of the bears ordered him to be
again shut up in the dungeon.
After some days, Hatim, exhausted with hunger and thirst, fell into a
slumber, and in a dream he saw an aged man, who thus addressed him:
“Oh, Hatim! why art thou thus dilatory in the service which thou hast
taken in hand; and why dost thou not comply with the bear’s request?”
He answered, “If I accept his daughter, they will never permit me to
leave them for the accomplishment of my task.” The aged man again
replied, “On that alone your liberation depends, for otherwise you
must soon perish in this dungeon; therefore accept as your wife the
bear’s daughter, and for this compliance on your part, she will
effectually assist in setting you at liberty.” Here Hatim awaked from
his dream, and in about two weeks after he was again brought before
the king of the bears. His Majesty seated Hatim beside him, and
repeated his former proposal, which being agreed to, he took Hatim by
the hand and placed him on his own throne, and issued orders for his
grandees to be in attendance. Agreements were then entered into,
according to the usages of that race, after which the bear conveyed
Hatim to the apartment of his daughter. There, to his surprise, he
found the halls decorated with the most splendid couches such as
belong to royalty; and on a splendid throne was seated his bride
arrayed in gold and all sorts of jewels. For a short time he stood
bewildered, when the king took the hand of his daughter and resigned
her to Hatim agreeably to established custom. Every day the king sent
a variety of the most delicious fruits to Hatim, till at length the
latter observed, that to live entirely on fruit did not agree with
him, and that he would prefer more substantial food. On hearing this,
the king ordered his emissaries to collect from places inhabited by
men all sorts of flour, sugar, milk, and butter, also vessels of
porcelain. The order was no sooner expressed than executed, and thus
Hatim was enabled to fare sumptuously twice a day on food the most
delicious, which he himself dressed.
In this manner six months elapsed, when one day Hatim, addressing the
bear’s daughter, said, “I have left home on a special service, and
your father has forcibly detained me here; if you will permit my
absence for some time, and make your father assent to this measure,
when I have accomplished my undertaking I will return and live with
you.” The bear’s daughter instantly went to her father, and acquainted
him with Hatim’s request; to which the king replied, “Daughter, he is
your husband; if you are yourself satisfied you have my consent.” The
daughter observed, “Hatim appears to be a man of sincerity; he will
assuredly return according to his promise.” In short, the king gave
his permission, and ordered some of his subjects to conduct Hatim
beyond the boundaries of his dominions. Hatim having taken leave of
his wife, departed, and after some time arrived at a sandy desert
which contained not a single human dwelling. Hatim placed his reliance
upon God and proceeded; meanwhile a mysterious man with tattered
garment presented him every evening with a loaf of bread and a jug
full of water. Of these, after offering his thanks to the Creator, he
partook, and thus continued to advance. Suddenly he espied before him
a dragon, the head of which was reared up to the height of a mountain.
At first sight he was dreadfully alarmed, but gradually began to
suppose that it must be a mass of sand. When he drew nearer, the
dragon observing him, inhaled his breath, and Hatim was irresistibly
drawn from the earth notwithstanding his utmost efforts to keep
himself firm, and in an instant he was swallowed alive by the monster.
When Hatim found himself inside of the dragon, he remembered his
Creator, and with pious resignation to his will, said, “This I have
merited, polluted as I am with sins; it has been my wish to become one
of the servants of God, but ah, helpless me! what avail my frail
efforts?” Thus Hatim constantly kept in mind the beneficence of the
Almighty: for whosoever puts his trust in God, and sincerely devotes
his life and fortune to the accomplishing of what is acceptable unto
the Almighty, him the Creator will never forsake when in calamity.
Sometimes he trieth his servants even as he tried Job the prophet of
Iram, who bore his sufferings with patience and resignation. In like
manner it behoveth the true servants of the Almighty that in every
calamity they remain patient and resigned.
For three days and nights Hatim thus continued in the loathsome
abdomen of the dragon, where he would have speedily died were it not
for a talismanic pearl which his wife, the bear’s daughter, had fixed
in his turban previous to his departure. This pearl had a charm in it
by which its possessor became secured against the bad effects of fire
and poison, and hence the venom of the dragon had no effect on Hatim.
In truth the bounteous Creator had in time provided him with an
antidote, as it was his will that Hatim should live. Meanwhile the
dragon, heartily wishing to be rid of Hatim, said to himself, “What
troublesome stuff have I swallowed here? I can never digest it, for it
still lives and moves about within me.” It may be conceived that Hatim
found little rest within the dragon’s abdomen; and he was constantly
endeavoring to stand up and walk about, the trampling of his feet upon
the stomach of the monster so annoyed the latter that he coiled and
reared in all directions.
At length, when he found that his food was really destructive and
caused him such pain, he bore it no longer, and making a strong effort
he vomited, and Hatim was once more thrown into the open air, where
the dragon left him and fled into the wilderness. Hatim remained on
the spot for some time till his clothes were dried by the sun, and
then proceeded on his way till, after traversing the sandy desert, he
arrived exhausted with hunger and thirst on the banks of a river. Here
he began to wash both himself and his clothes, when he observed a
large fish playing near him. Hatim was congratulating himself on this
providential supply of food, when the fish, of which the half was a
human form of extreme beauty, being in fact the mermaid, approached,
and seizing him by the hand, instantly drew him into the river. Hatim
struggled hard to keep his ground, but his strength was of no avail;
the fish hurried him through the deep, and thus conveyed him into her
place of residence. Here he found himself in a splendid apartment
seated on a superb couch, and the mermaid endeavoring by every sort of
contrivance to reconcile him to his captivity.
For seven nights and days Hatim remained the dejected captive of this
monster of the deep. At last becoming desperate, he said, “I have
travelled thus far on business the most urgent, leaving my home and
kindred; why then dost thou urge me to become an inmate of this thy
abode? My sadness will never allow me to be an agreeable companion; I
pray thee then to conduct me to that place whence I have been forcibly
dragged.” To this the mermaid replied, “Oh, Hatim! stay with me three
days longer, and I will consent to thy release.” When the three days
had elapsed, Hatim reminded the mermaid of her promise, to which she
replied, “Everything which tends to thy welfare shall be accomplished,
yet remain a few days more.” Hatim said, “Remember thy promise, for to
stay a moment longer is to me impossible.” The mermaid finding Hatim
resolute, at last took him by the hand, and in an instant conveyed him
to the spot from which she had taken him, and as a last effort said,
“Oh, Hatim! is it really your intention to part with me?”--“My duty,”
said Hatim, “is urgent, and nothing shall make me shrink from it.”
When Hatim gave this decisive answer, the mermaid vanished. He then
finished the washing of his clothes, in which he had been previously
interrupted, and after drying them in the sun, he dressed himself, and
once more set out.
After he had journeyed for some days he approached a mountain, the top
of which was covered with trees in beautiful clusters. Having
ascended, he entered these groves, which were lined with elegant
couches, and through which flowed rivulets of pure water. The cool
zephyr wafting its fragrance through the trees rendered the situation
refreshing to the soul. Hatim reclined on one of the couches, and soon
fell asleep. Meanwhile the proprietor of the place passing by, was
surprised on beholding a youth of graceful mien there asleep. He sat
down beside him, and shortly after, Hatim, refreshed by sleep, sat up,
and seeing a stranger, respectfully saluted him. The other, in
courteous terms, returned his salutation, and said, “Whence came you,
and whither are you going? Pray tell me, what are your motives for
traversing this dreary waste?” Hatim replied, “I am on my way to the
desert of Hawaida.” The stranger, on hearing this, said, “How came you
to adopt so mad a resolution? has none of your friends been kind
enough to prevent your journey?”--“Such,” said Hatim, “is my sincere
intention; and placing my reliance on God, I have undertaken this
task, and have proceeded thus far on my way. A prince, named Munir
Shami, has fallen desperately in love with Husn Banu, the daughter of
Burzakh the merchant. The lady has asked of the prince seven
questions, the solution of which is beyond his power. Weeping in the
agonies of despair, he quitted the haunts of men and turned his face
to the mountains and deserts, where I chanced to meet with him. I
inquired into the cause of his distress, and learned from him his
heart-melting tale. It came into my mind, that to _question the
distressed as to his circumstances, and then not to make an effort to
relieve him, would be a line of conduct unbecoming a man_. For this
reason, Sir, I have endeavored to do my best in his cause.”
The stranger then said, “Assuredly you must be Hatim himself; for
with the exception of Hatim, there is not a man alive who would have
acted in such a manner. Generous Hatim! God is beneficent, and to you
will render the task easy; but remember, that hitherto no one has
returned in safety from the desert of Hawaida, and the few who have
thence retraced their steps became distracted in mind and lost to the
world; however, since you go, give ear to my advice. The instant you
approach the desert of Hawaida, they will assail you with enchantment,
against which your power and strength will be of no avail. Around you
will gather damsels of surpassing beauty, and among these will be a
nymph heart-ravishing, of graceful form, with waving tresses
resplendent as the full moon; the moment you behold her your heart
will be beyond your control, but you must remain firm of mind and not
give way. Should you then resolve to advance, you have merely to take
this fair damsel by the hand, and in an instant you will find yourself
in the desert of Hawaida. Now, Hatim! if you do not follow my advice,
you will have cause to repent of it till your dying hour.”
When he had done speaking, a man advanced to the couch on which they
sat, with a table in his hands, and having fixed it before them, he
covered it with cloth and presented them with water to wash their
hands. He then laid upon the table a large bowl full of milk and rice,
and two flagons full of pure water the most delicious that Hatim had
ever tasted. Having rested there during the night, Hatim next morning
took leave of his host and departed. After journeying for some days,
he arrived on the shore of a lake surrounded with shady trees and
brimful of clear water. When he was wrapt in admiration of this scene,
a nymph of more than mortal beauty, perfect from head to foot,
gracefully arose from the water. Hatim, dazzled with her splendor,
covered his eyes, and the nymph seizing him by the hand hurried him
into the deep. Hatim found himself for some time sinking rapidly, till
at last his feet rested on firm ground. He then opened his eyes, and
to his astonishment beheld around him a most beautiful and extensive
garden. Here the nymph of the lake shortly after quitted her hold of
his hand, and vanished from his sight. Hatim walked a considerable way
through the garden, when, lo! thousands of beautiful women approached
him from every quarter, each of whom tried to win him with her
attractions, and endeavored to pierce his heart with the arrows of her
loving glances.
To all these, however, Hatim paid not the least regard, for he kept in
mind the advice of the stranger who had lately entertained him, and
said to himself, “This is all enchantment.” The damsels then laid hold
of Hatim and conveyed him to a splendid palace, which was entirely
formed of precious stones and all sorts of jewels and pearls, and also
decorated with numberless paintings. When Hatim was inside the palace,
standing near a throne which he viewed with admiration, he thought
within himself, “Now that I am in this palace, why should I not for
once sit upon that throne?” He therefore advanced. Placing his foot on
the throne, he heard a tremendous crash; he started back, thinking
that the throne had been broken under his weight. He once more
examined it, and seeing no ground for what he had imagined, he mounted
the throne and sat down. He was no sooner upon the throne than the
noise was repeated, and the beautiful damsel whom the stranger on the
mountain had mentioned to him as likely to take his heart captive,
approached him with smiles the most alluring. She was arrayed in gold
and jewels of the costliest sort: with a veil cast over her
countenance, she advanced and stood at the foot of the throne. Hatim
was completely bewildered, and felt the strongest inclination to
remove the veil from her face; but then he remembered the advice he
had received, and said in his own mind, “It is only by seizing the
hand of this damsel that I am to be delivered from this enchantment;
however, ere I depart I must see further into the delusions of this
place.” For three nights and days Hatim remained seated on the throne.
The darkness of the night was dispelled by magic lamps which to him
were invisible, and his ears were delighted with melodious sounds.
Fantastic groups in endless variety danced along the scene; but, all
through, the damsel of surpassing beauty stood by the throne, sweetly
smiling in his face. They presented him with food and fruits of every
description in costly dishes; but although Hatim ate most heartily,
his hunger was not in the least appeased. Wondering in his mind, he
said to himself, “Though I am constantly eating I am never satiated,
how is this to be accounted for?” In this manner three days had
elapsed, and on the fourth he said to himself, “Oh, Hatim! were you to
look for a hundred years at these delusive appearances, still you
would not have tired of them. At the same time you have left behind
you a helpless youth, whose expectations are fixed on your exertions;
if you waste the time, what will you have to answer before God?”
Hatim then seized the hand of the fair damsel, which he had no sooner
done than a female form issued from the foot of the throne, and struck
him a blow which felled him to the ground. He opened his eyes, and on
looking round him saw not a trace of the garden, the palace, the
throne, or the damsels. A dreary and boundless wilderness presented
itself to his view, which he knew to be the desert of Hawaida. He then
commenced his search for the man in quest of whom he had travelled,
and after he had wandered for some space, his ear was greeted by the
welcome sound of “_What I once saw, I long for a second time_.” Hatim
listened with attention, and three times did he distinctly hear this
sound, after which all was silent. He proceeded in the direction in
which the voice was heard, and for seven nights and days he thus
advanced. On his way he often heard the words repeated as it were
before him, but never could he discover the person by whom they were
uttered.
Hatim, thus bewildered, still advanced; when, lo! on the evening of
the ninth day he saw an old man resting himself on the bare earth.
Hatim approached and saluted the old man, who courteously returning
his salutation, said to him, “Young stranger, whence came you, and
what is your business here?”--“Venerable Sir,” said Hatim, “my
business here is to learn truly from you what is it that you have
_seen once_, and _long to behold a second time_.”--“Sit down by me,”
said the aged man, “and I will tell you all.” Hatim sat down, and in
an instant two loaves and two flagons full of pure water miraculously
appeared before them. The old man handed to Hatim one of the loaves
and one of the pitchers full of water, and reserved an equal quantity
for himself, and both of them silently ate and drank. After their
refreshment, Hatim addressed the old man, saying, “Venerable Sir, pray
tell me the meaning of these words which you have so often repeated.”
To this, the aged man replied, “I once upon a time arrived at the
border of a lake, from the waters of which arose a damsel of angelic
appearance, who, seizing me by the hand, hurried me into the midst of
the deep. When I opened my eyes, I beheld to my astonishment a
beauteous garden, from every quarter of which damsels fairest of form
came in troops around me. At last they carried me into a palace, and
left me standing beside a gorgeous throne, which I mounted and then
sat down, beholding with admiration the objects that presented
themselves to my view. A beautiful damsel with a veil gracefully
thrown over her face approached and stood before the throne. The
instant I beheld her fairy form, I lost hold of the reins of my heart
and became frantic. I removed the veil from her face; she smiled
irresistibly, and my transport knew no bounds. I seized her hand in
order to seat her upon the throne, when on a sudden another female
form seemed to issue from the earth beneath us, and raising herself,
she struck me a blow which hurled me into this desert. Here I wander
restless and forlorn, and my thoughts are ever fixed on the image of
that heart-ravishing angel.”
Thus spoke the aged man, and then sighing bitterly he shed a flood of
tears, and like a maniac flew in every direction, crying aloud, “_What
I once saw, I long for a second time_.” Hatim ran in pursuit of him,
and seizing him by the arm, said to him, “Venerable Sir, will your
mind be at ease if you should see that fairy form a second
time?”--“Assuredly, young man,” said he, “but the case is
impossible.”--“Follow me,” said Hatim, “and I will conduct you to her
abode.” The old man joyfully accompanied Hatim; and after travelling
for some days, they entered the shady groves on the banks of the lake
already mentioned.
Hatim then addressed his aged companion, saying, “Now, venerable Sir,
when you again arrive in the enchanted palace, if it be your wish to
remain there admiring the angelic damsel, you must on no account seize
her hand or remove her veil. If you lay hold of her hand, the same
disaster from which you have now made your escape will again befall
you, and your retracing your way back to that enchanted paradise will
be impossible. That I have been enabled to do so, is owing to the
kindness of a hermit of exemplary piety, who gave me proper directions
when on my way hither. Do you now ascend into yonder tree on the
border of the lake, and the beautiful nymph will arise out of the
water as formerly.”
Here Hatim took leave of the old man, and the instant the latter
ascended the tree that overhung the lake, the nymph gracefully arose
out of the water, and seizing him by the hand hurried him into the
midst of the deep. Hatim now began to retrace his steps towards
Shahabad, and in a few days arrived at the abode of the hermit on the
mountain, to whom he related his whole adventure. Having taken an
affectionate leave of the hermit, he journeyed onwards till he arrived
in the desert of the bears, where he spent a whole month enjoying the
society of his beautiful wife, the bear’s daughter. That period having
elapsed, he bade adieu to his wife and _new_ kindred, and his next
stage was the residence of the jackals. After parting with the latter,
nothing occurred worth notice till his safe arrival in Shahabad, where
he was recognized and conducted to the caravanseraï by Husn Banu’s
people. The Prince Munir Shami prostrated himself at Hatim’s feet, in
order to give vent to his gratitude; but Hatim raised him to his
bosom, and related to him all that he had seen.
Hatim, accompanied by the prince, waited upon Husn Banu, who, having
veiled herself, most courteously received them, and addressing Hatim,
she said, “Tell me, brave youth, what news have you brought?”--“An
aged man,” replied Hatim, “in the desert of Hawaida once saw by the
effect of magic a damsel of angelic form. She deprived him of his
heart and of his senses, and since that time he has traversed the
wilderness, crying aloud, ‘_What I once saw, I long for a second
time_.’” Hatim then gave a full account to Husn Banu of the nature of
the enchanted paradise, and how he had conveyed the old man to the
banks of the lake through which he might reënter the magic scene. “In
fine,” said Hatim, “those sounds shall be heard no more in the desert,
for I have conducted the old man to the abode of that Houri who had
robbed him of his heart.”
When Husn Banu heard the whole adventure, she expressed her
admiration; and the nurse addressing her, said, “The youth speaks
truly, for the case is really as he has related.” Food was then
brought in, and Hatim was urged to take refreshment. This done, he
said to Husn Banu, “The Supreme Creator has enabled me to explain one
of your questions; let me now hear another, that I may endeavor to
accomplish its solution.”--“Rest yourself,” said Husn Banu, “for some
days till you are recovered from your present fatigue.” Husn Banu at
the same time was deeply though secretly enamoured of the prince
Munir, but respect for her own dignity compelled her to abide by her
declaration, and there was no resource except the solution of the
seven questions.
Hatim and the prince Munir rested for the night in the palace of Husn
Banu, and next day waited upon her for the purpose of taking leave.
Hatim requested to know her second question, which she told him, as
follows: “I have heard,” said Husn Banu, “that a certain person has
written above his door, ‘_Do good, and cast it upon the waters_.’ What
means this motto, and where lives the writer of it? Having
investigated this mystery, return and tell me the result; that is, the
_good_ that he _has done, and cast upon the waters_.” Hatim then took
leave of Husn Banu, and having soothed the anxiety of the prince
Munir, departed on his second adventure.