_The journey of Hatim to explore the Bath of Badgard--His arrival in
that place--His safe return to Shahabad, and the marriage of Husn Banu
with the Assyrian prince Munir._
After Hatim left Shahabad he traversed a wide desert till he arrived
in a populous city, where he saw the inhabitants assembled round the
mouth of a well. He approached; and asking one of them what was the
matter, was told that the son of the chief magistrate had gone mad,
and was in the habit of frequenting the well, when at length he had
thrown himself in headlong. “Three days,” said the man, “we have
looked for him here, but no trace can we find of his body, nor is any
of our people bold enough to venture into the well, lest he should
lose his own life.”
While they were in this conversation, the parents of the youth came
weeping to the mouth of the well. Hatim’s heart melted when he
witnessed their sorrow, and he said to them, “Despair not, my friends,
I will dive into the well, and search for the body of your son; remain
here till my return.”--“Generous stranger,” said the chief, “rest
assured that we will with patience wait your return, should the period
be even a month.” Hatim plunged into the water; and after he had been
sinking some minutes felt his feet on firm ground. He opened his eyes,
and saw not the well but an extensive plain illumined with the rays of
the sun. Advancing some distance he came to a garden, and as the doors
were open, he entered. There he saw flowers of every hue, and in the
midst of the garden a palace of elegant structure. He entered a
spacious hall, which he found to be furnished with splendid couches,
on which reclined fairies of beautiful form. In the centre of the hall
were two thrones of burnished gold, on one of which sat the fairy
queen, of transcendent beauty and angelic countenance; and on the
other, a young man of noble form and graceful mien.
When the fairies that acted as sentinels observed Hatim’s approach,
they gave information to their sovereign that another of the race of
Adam had arrived in the garden. The queen, addressing the youth upon
the throne, said to him, “The stranger is of your race; is it your
pleasure that we hold conference with him?” The young man assented,
and the attendants conducted Hatim to the foot of the throne. The
queen rose and graciously received him; and having seated him on a
couch beside her, ordered him to be presented with food and drink.
Hatim willingly accepted her hospitality; after which, the young man
asked him whence he came, and whither he was bound. “I am a native of
Yemen,” said Hatim in reply, “and I lately left the city of Shahabad
on a journey to the bath of Badgard. When I arrived in a certain city,
I saw all the inhabitants assembled round the mouth of a well; and on
inquiring the cause of their anxiety, the chief told me with tears in
his eyes, that his son had three days ago cast himself headlong into
the water. I was moved by his grief, and dived into the well, resolved
to procure the dead body of the youth. But now I am bewildered, and
know not whither to direct my search. You, I see, are of the human
race; may I ask whether you are the young man whom I seek?”
The youth replied, “I am indeed that devoted person. I was one day
seated at the mouth of the well, when this heart-ravishing fairy
appeared to my enchanted sight. I lost hold of the reins of reason,
and for some days lingered like a maniac round the mouth of the well.
My passion was completely beyond my control: I plunged into the water,
and opened my eyes, I know not by what means, in this paradise. When
the fairy queen beheld me, she gladdened my heart with the charms of
her society, and now my happiness is complete.”--“Deluded youth,” said
Hatim, “can you be happy when your parents and relations are enduring
the pangs of despair on your account?”--“I have no choice left,”
rejoined the young man; “but should the queen give me leave, I will
accompany you to my relations, and having assured them of my safety,
instantly return.”--“Have patience, then,” said Hatim, “till I plead
your cause.”
Hatim turned his discourse to the queen, and said, “Thy conduct, fair
queen, is far from being generous and noble, in detaining this youth
from his distressed parents. Allow him to accompany me for a few days,
that he may console his father and mother; after which, he will return
to you.”--“Stranger,” replied the queen, “I do not in the least
restrain this youth in his movements. He saw me, and became enamoured
of my person. In his despair he cast himself into the well, for which
I am not to blame. At present he has his free will to go whenever he
chooses.” Here the youth stood up, and said to the fairy, “By your
leave, fair queen, I have one request to make ere I depart, should it
be agreeable to you to grant it. Say that I am not to despair; that
you will speedily come to my father’s house, and make me happy in once
more beholding you.”
Hatim for some time held down his head in silence, awaiting the
queen’s reply; at length he spoke: “Generous queen, if you have any
compassion, assent to the youth’s request.”--“He asks of me,” she
replied, “more than ever any of our race have granted to yours.” In
return, Hatim related to the queen numerous instances of kindness and
compassion experienced by himself from the hands of the fairy race. To
this the queen replied, “Brave Hatim, what you have stated is true;
but this youth does not so sincerely love me as to deserve my
regard.”--“Had I not loved you from my heart and soul,” said the young
man, “should I, regardless of life, of every human tie, cast myself
headlong into the well?”--“To put your affection to the proof,”
rejoined the queen, “are you prepared to do whatever I request of
you?”--“Command me,” said he, “and I will perform.”
The fairy queen summoned her attendants, and said to them, “Go fill
the large cauldron with oil, place it on the fire, and make it boil to
the utmost heat.” When the cauldron was heated, the queen took the
young man by the hand, and said to him, “Now, if you love me, prove it
by casting yourself this instant into the cauldron of boiling oil.”
The youth instantly rose up, and was about to plunge into the burning
liquid, when the queen exclaimed, “Hold, I spoke to try your
affection. Now I am satisfied, and I agree to your request.” Hatim
remained for about a month with the fairy queen and her lover. At the
end of this period, the queen confirmed her promise, having sworn by
the seal of Sulaiman to visit the youth soon. Having then bid adieu to
Hatim and her lover, she ordered some of her fairies to conduct them
to the mouth of the well. The fairies seized the mortals by the hand,
and in the twinkling of an eye they found themselves at the mouth of
the well. The guides then vanished into the deep, and Hatim presented
the young man to his fond parents. The chief of the city and all the
inhabitants were highly delighted at the sight, and prostrated
themselves at Hatim’s feet in token of their gratitude. They then
returned to the city, and for many days vied with one another in
treating the generous stranger with every mark of affection.
At length the fairy, agreeably to her promise, visited the enamoured
youth. Two weeks after Hatim once more betook himself to the road, and
in the course of a few days arrived at a large and populous city. As
he was about to enter the gates, he met an old man standing upon the
road. When the old man observed him, he approached and said, “My
blessings be upon you, noble stranger; welcome, thrice welcome to our
city.” Hatim returned this courteous salutation, whereupon the old man
said to him, “If you will for this night reside in my house, and taste
of my salt, it will be doing me the highest favor.” Hatim thanked the
old man, and accepted his hospitable invitation. Arrived in the house,
the old man presented him with food; and after they had eaten
together, the aged host said, “Tell me, noble sir, if such be your
pleasure, what is your name, whence are you, and whither do you
travel?”--“I am an Arab,” replied Hatim, “and am on my way from
Shahabad to the bath of Badgard, which it is my intention to explore.”
The old man hearing this, long held down his head in deep reflection,
after which he said to Hatim, “Devoted man, what enemy has sent you on
so perilous an errand? I have been assured that no man has hitherto
visited Badgard and come back to tell the news. The place is in the
vicinity of a city called Katan, the name of whose king is Harith.
Around his dominions are stationed numerous sentinels, whose duty it
is to bring before their king whatsoever stranger attempts to visit
Badgard. When carried to the presence of Harith no one knows how they
are treated, for they never return.” Hatim, nothing daunted, related
to the old man the cause of his journey, and detailed his former
adventures in behalf of Munir the Assyrian prince. “This,” concluded
Hatim, “is the seventh and last question, from which I will not
shrink.”--“May heaven reward your generosity and bravery,” replied the
venerable host. “Be advised by me, and turn back: the bath of Badgard
is all enchantment; of its inner mysteries no one can give the least
account.”--“Venerable sir,” resumed Hatim, “how can I possibly return?
Would you have me act as a coward?”--“Listen to my counsel,” replied
the host, “and cast not away your life like the frog that disregarded
the advice of his friends, and at last had cause for
repentance.”--“Tell me,” said Hatim, “what happened to the frog?”
The old man thus spoke: “In the region of Sham it happened once upon a
time that a number of frogs were living happily together in a pond,
when one of them took it into his head to remove to another pond in
the vicinity. ‘Travelling,’ said the frog to himself, ‘is the means of
rendering the poor man rich.’ His friends remonstrated, saying, ‘Fool
that you are, what absurd idea is this which has found its way into
your head? Abandon such vain thoughts, otherwise you will have cause
to repent when too late. Know you not that he who disregards the
admonition of the wise will end in misery and shame?’ The brain of the
frog was filled with the wind of self-conceit; he therefore would not
listen to the advice of his friends, and forthwith quitted the pond
along with his wife and young ones. On their way to the next pond,
they rejoiced in the anticipation of the happiness and ease and
independence which awaited them. At length they arrived on the brink,
and were about to enter their new residence, when all at once a
water-snake thrust out its head to welcome them. This snake had for
some time occupied the pond, and had devoured all the frogs that were
in it. Having had no food for some days previous, the serpent no
sooner saw the frogs than he began to devour them one after another.
“The old frog that had caused the removal, quickly dived into the
bottom of the pond, and having escaped the mouth of the snake, watched
his opportunity, and returned to his former abode. His old
acquaintances seeing him return alone, without his young, opened upon
him the tongue of reproach, and said, ‘Rash fool that you are, how
dare you come among us without your wife and young ones? Tell us
quickly, what has happened to them and you when absent; can it be
possible that you have left them to destruction?’--The frog, full of
shame and remorse, listened, but replied not, while the others were
the more urgent in their inquiries. At last they all attacked the
unfortunate frog, and having almost killed him, they said, ‘Such is
the reward of vanity and folly’; and he who disregards the admonitions
of the wise will become involved in similar calamities.”
When the old man had finished the story of the frog, he said, “Brave
Hatim, apply your ear to my advice, and turn back in time ere your
calamity be past remedy.”--“I am confident,” replied Hatim, “that all
you have stated is kindly meant; but remember that I am acting for
others, not for myself, and I will never disgrace myself by abandoning
a task which I have promised to accomplish: for the sake of God, then,
shew me the way, and let me depart.” When the old man saw that Hatim’s
resolution was not to be shaken, he yielded to necessity and conducted
him out of the city till they came to two roads, when he stopped short
and said, “Noble Hatim, proceed on the right-hand road, which will
take you through many a city and town. At length you will come to a
high mountain, where there are dangers innumerable. Should it please
God that you surmount these, you will then come to a spot where the
road branches into two. There I would advise you to take the left-hand
path, for though that to the right be the nearer, it is highly
dangerous; whereas the other, though circuitous, is safe and free from
peril.”
Hatim thanked his aged friend, and said, in reply to the latter part
of his instructions, “My venerable benefactor, if our life be not
decreed, we cannot live; and till the hour appointed by fate, we
cannot die. Do you really advise me to shun the path that is short,
and hold to that which is circuitous?” The old man smiled, and said,
“O Hatim, have you not heard what the poet saith?
‘Take the road that is safe, though it be long;
Marry not a shrew, even if she seem an angel.’
“Farewell, my brave and generous friend, and let me warn you of your
danger, if you follow not my directions.” Hatim having taken his
leave, proceeded on his way; and in the course of a few days, as he
was approaching a large city, the sound of drums and trumpets reached
his ear. It seemed as if the inhabitants were in the celebration of
some grand festival; and when he drew nearer he found them assembled
without the walls in a spacious plain, which was everywhere adorned
with finely embroidered sofas and couches. In the midst of the
assembly was a constellation of beautiful damsels, some enchanting the
heart with their melodious song, and others occupied in the graceful
movements of the dance. In another part of the plain were fires, and
all the utensils of cookery employed in dressing food.
At length Hatim mingled with the joyful throng, and began to ask one
of them what was the cause of such pleasure and mirth. “Stranger,”
said they, “our city is every year visited by a formidable dragon,
which on the occasion transforms himself into a human shape. We are
compelled, on pain of death and destruction, to allow this dragon to
carry off his choice of the fairest of our daughters, whether rich or
poor. Those that are most beautiful are led forth to these tents,
arrayed in fine apparel, adorned with costly jewels, and having their
hands perfumed with fragrant scents. The monster in human shape enters
the tent where the damsels are assembled, and carries off her on whom
his choice rests. We are forced to make this shew of joy, though our
hearts are sad, for the appointed day is arrived, and no one knows who
is to be the victim. We thus celebrate the nuptials ere we know who is
the bride, but for the next seven days our joy is converted into grief
and lamentation.”
On hearing this strange circumstance, Hatim concluded that the dragon
must be one of the genii. He said to them, “Is it not madness in you
to mimic joy at your own destruction?”--“How can we act otherwise?”
they replied; “who is the man that can deliver us from our
calamity?”--“Be of good cheer,” returned Hatim, “this night I will
endeavor, by the aid of heaven, to rid you forever of your evil.” When
the people heard this promise, hopeless as it was, they informed their
king and grandees of the stranger’s presence. Hatim was quickly
introduced, and after the usual salutation, the king asked him, “Are
you aware, brave stranger, of the nature of this calamity with which
we are afflicted? You say you can avert the impending evil; if you
will do so, it will be to me and my subjects the greatest of
blessings.”
In reply, Hatim gave the following instructions to the king: “When
this dragon has come, and made his choice of your daughters, say to
him, that a neighboring prince has just arrived in your city; that he
has enjoined upon you not to give away your daughters on any account
without his permission. Say further, if the dragon threatens
destruction to you and your city, that you will rather bear the
consequences of his anger than offend the stranger prince.” The king
and his ministers assented to this proposal, and for the whole of that
day detained Hatim in their society. Towards evening the dragon
approached as usual; and when Hatim was informed of the fact, he asked
permission of the king to go and see the monster. The whole assembly
came out to see the arrival of the dragon, the size of which was
immense. Hatim stood astonished when he saw its head reared aloft like
a tall tree, and the stones crushed into powder beneath its weight.
At length the dragon reached the tents, and in presence of the
terrified assembly, lashed the ground with his tail; and having
performed some fearful contortions, he assumed a human shape. The
people then crowded round him to proffer their salutations, and the
king invited him to his palace, and placed him upon his own throne.
After they had partaken of food and drink, the genius rose up and
commanded them to produce their daughters. “Let us proceed to the tent
which they at present occupy,” said the king. The genius entered the
tent, and after due examination, his choice rested upon the king’s
only daughter, who was by far the fairest in the city. He came out and
made known his choice to the king, who immediately stated his
objections, saying, “A prince of great power has for some time resided
at my court, and if I do aught without his consent, he will assuredly
destroy both myself and my subjects from off the face of the earth. I
must therefore, in the first place, consult him ere I allow one of our
daughters to be carried off: if I receive his permission, good; if
not, I shall refuse your claim.”
The genius, enraged at such opposition, commanded the king forthwith
to produce this daring stranger. Hatim was accordingly conducted
before the king of the genii, who thus addressed him: “Brave prince of
Yemen, I rejoice to meet you; it is now some time since I have seen
you, or even heard of your name. Tell me whence come you at present,
and what is your object in exciting the people of this city to rebel
against me? Do you really wish that I should destroy them in my
wrath?”--“I am far from desiring what you state,” replied Hatim, “but
the people of this country are now my subjects, and therefore they are
right in withholding their allegiance from other powers. I am most
willing, however, to bestow on you the late king’s daughter, provided
you comply with the ancient customs of my country.”--“Your request is
fair,” replied the prince of the genii; “let me hear, then, what these
customs are.”--“The first,” said Hatim, “is this: I have a talisman
which once belonged to a wise and illustrious ancestor. It is
necessary, then, as a pledge of friendship, that you drink water from
a cup touched by that talisman.”
To this proposal the prince of the genii expressed his assent, and
Hatim took a cupful of water, and dipped into it the potent muhra of
the bear’s daughter, after which he gave the draught to the genius to
drink. The charm took effect, for no sooner had the genius drained the
cup, than, by the decree of the Most High, he was deprived of all his
enchantment, his power reduced to that of an ordinary mortal. Hatim
again said to him, “The next ordeal you must undergo, is to enter this
large jar and remain for some time shut within it. If you do this, you
shall have the king’s daughter; otherwise, you must pay, instead, a
thousand rubies, a thousand diamonds, and a pearl of the murghab.”
The genius prided himself on his skill in magic, and his supernatural
power; he therefore accepted the proposal without hesitation. Hatim
brought a large jar, and told him to enter. The genius entered the
jar, and Hatim immediately shut the mouth of it; and having pronounced
the sacred charm of the blessed Khizr, the lid of the jar became firm
as a rock of adamant. He then called to the prince of the genii to
come out, but it was no longer in his power to do so. Hatim ordered
the people to collect a large quantity of dried wood; and having piled
up the same around the jar, he set fire to it. The genius now found
himself undone; for as soon as he felt the heat, he made every effort
in his power to break the jar and effect his escape. His attempts were
fruitless, for in a very short time his life was consumed, and the jar
was cast into a deep pit, and covered over with earth and stones.
Hatim then addressed the people, saying, “Rejoice, my friends, for
your enemy shall no more harass your country.” The king and all the
people proffered their gratitude to Hatim, and presented to him gold
and jewels, and whatever was rare and valuable. “I covet not such
gifts as you offer me,” said Hatim, “they are of no service to me at
present, but I will accept them of your hands, and distribute them
among the poor and destitute of the city.” Every house in the city
resounded with the praises of Hatim’s wisdom, beneficence, and
generosity. For three days they detained him, and vied with each other
in doing him service; and the whole country was one scene of joy and
festivity.
On the fourth day Hatim took his leave, and turned his face to the
road. In the course of time he arrived at the foot of the mountain
which the old man had described. He passed on without any
interruption, and came to the desert, where he found abundance of
sweet water, and witnessed many of the wonders of the creation. After
he had passed through the desert, he came to the spot where the road
separated in two directions. Here he unfortunately forgot the old
man’s advice, for he really intended to take the safe road, though
circuitous. “I must never,” said he to himself, “disregard the advice
of the wise, and the old man earnestly advised me to take the
right-hand path.” Hatim accordingly proceeded rapidly on his way; but
he soon changed his mind, and turned aside in order to find the
left-hand road. He soon found himself involved in a forest abounding
with underwood of thorns and brambles, so that every step he took was
attended with difficulty. He had not long advanced, when the clothes
were torn from his body; and he bitterly regretted his disregard of
the old man’s directions.
Hatim at length, after vast labor, got clear of the forest; but no
sooner did he appear in the open plain than thousands of griffins
rushed upon him from all quarters. Hatim stood terrified at the sight,
for those animals had a most frightful appearance, in some measure
resembling a tiger, a dog, and a fox, as if these three animals had
been formed into one. When the griffins were about to devour Hatim, on
a sudden an old man stood by him, and said, “They who disregard the
admonitions of the wise, end in distress and misery.”--“Forgive me,
venerable man,” said Hatim, “I have grievously erred.”--“Lose no
time,” said the old man, “in using the talisman of the bear’s
daughter: cast it on the ground before you.”
Hatim immediately produced the precious muhra; and the moment he threw
it upon the plain the old man vanished from his sight. The effect of
the muhra was wonderful: the ground assumed a yellow hue, it then
became black as night; after that, it changed into green; and lastly,
it became red as fire. Meanwhile the griffins were diverted from their
attack upon Hatim, and ran furiously at one another. The fight was
terrible, and in the course of a few minutes they all perished by
mutual slaughter. Hatim looked with astonishment at the carnage, and
praised the great Creator for his deliverance. He then took up his
talisman and prepared for his journey.
As he advanced, he came to a desert of solid brass, the vegetation of
which consisted of sharp pins of brass and iron. He had no sooner
entered the desert than these pins pierced his feet. Onward he limped,
however; and in the agony of pain, said to himself, “O Hatim, it
becomes thee to suffer calamity without murmur, for what avails regret
at present?” He proceeded thus for some time, while the soles of his
feet were pierced like a sieve. At length he thought he could see the
extremity of the desert, when on a sudden dragons of immense size and
terrible aspect rushed from all quarters to devour him. The dragons
bore a mixed resemblance to the eagle, the tiger, and the fox: their
tails resembled that of the jackal, and their feet resembled those of
the eagle. Hatim cast a look of despair around him, and was about to
bid adieu to life, when the old man stood by him, took him by the
hand, and said, “Be brave; does it become Hatim to fear?”--“Wonderful
man!” replied Hatim, “it is not in any mortal to behold these monsters
and refrain from trembling.”--“Have recourse to your talisman,” said
the old man. Hatim drew out the sacred muhra, and cast it upon the
ground. The effect was such as he had lately witnessed; for the
dragons stood abashed, and the color of the ground was changed, and
when it became red the monsters furiously encountered one another till
not one of them was left alive.
Hatim took up his muhra and having resumed his journey, devoutly
thanked his Great Preserver for deliverance from such dangers. In the
course of a few days he arrived at a very large city. When the people
saw him they were astonished, and said, “Tell us, wonderful man, how
you were able to pass in safety through the brazen desert.”--“I am
indebted for my safety,” replied Hatim, “to the goodness of God alone.
He has watched over me in the hour of danger, for none of the monsters
that infest the desert has done me the least harm.” Now the forest of
brambles and the brazen desert had been long considered in that city
as impenetrable, and all travellers and caravans had been previously
compelled to take a long and circuitous route in approaching the city.
When the people, therefore, saw Hatim approach their city by these
dangerous quarters, they became highly interested in the subject, as
they saw a prospect of opening an easy communication with the rest of
the world. When the king got intelligence that a stranger had arrived
safe by the short and dangerous route, he could scarcely believe the
information, and immediately despatched some of his people to
ascertain the fact and in the meantime to detain the stranger. The
messengers went and made the necessary investigation. They returned,
and informed the king that if a path were cut through the forest, it
would be quite safe in every respect.
At this intelligence his Majesty was highly pleased and having sent
for Hatim, said to him, “Noble stranger, I have done you wrong in
suspecting the truth of your statement, and I pray for your
forgiveness. I confess I did not at first believe you. I, therefore,
placed a watch over you till I should be assured of the fact by my own
people: had I found that you had deceived me, I should have punished
you accordingly.”--“Your Majesty,” replied Hatim, “has acted as a king
ought, that is, according to strict justice; for it is expedient that
the liar should suffer punishment. But why should I deceive you, in
stating what was untrue?”
The king then brought forth loads of gold, and said to Hatim, “Accept
this as a reward for the services you have done me.”--“I am alone,”
said Hatim, “I cannot carry this gold with me, and I have no one to
carry it for me.”--“My own people,” replied the king, “shall convey it
to your country.”--“I have a dangerous journey to perform,” returned
Hatim, “and an important task to accomplish: till that is done, I
cannot visit my native country.”--“Tell me,” resumed the king,
“whither are you bound, and I will accompany you in person.”--“In a
neighboring country,” said Hatim, “is the bath of Badgard: I am going
to explore it, but I have heard that no one has hitherto returned
thence with life.”--“You have heard the truth, noble stranger,” said
the king; “I, therefore, advise you as a friend to banish such
thoughts from your mind.”--“What is decreed must happen,” replied
Hatim; “my resolution is fixed.”
When the king found Hatim resolute, he appointed two of his people to
accompany him, and ordered them to shew him the way to Katan. They,
therefore, set out; and after some days’ travelling, his guides told
him that their orders permitted them to go no further. They then gave
him directions as to his route, and took leave. When Hatim arrived
within the territories of Katan, the people asked him whence he had
come. He told them the object of his journey and the dangers he had
experienced. When they heard from him that the griffins of the forest
of brambles, with the dragons of the brazen desert, were extirpated,
they rejoiced exceedingly.
At length Hatim reached the city of Katan, and took up his residence
for some days in a caravanseraï. After he had reposed for a few days
he wished to present himself before the king. Selecting two pearls,
two rubies, and two diamonds of immense value, he went to the palace
gate. The janitors informed his Majesty that a stranger wished to be
admitted, and at the same time presented the jewels. The king ordered
them to procure his name, and ask of him the nature of his business.
They returned to Hatim, and examined him according to the king’s
command. “I am a native of Yemen,” replied Hatim, “and have journeyed
hither from the city of Shahabad; if further explanation be necessary,
I will detail my whole history to his Majesty, should he honor me with
an interview.”
The janitors returned to the royal presence, and stated, “Sire, the
stranger is a merchant of Yemen, lately come from the city of
Shahabad, and anxious to have an interview with your Majesty.” Hatim
was immediately admitted, and the king said to him, “Tell me, stranger
merchant, where is your caravan, and what merchandise have you to
dispose of?”--“Sire,” said Hatim, “it is now some time since I have
left off traffic, and adopted the profession of a soldier. I happened
to pass this way, and longed to pay my respects to your Majesty.”
The king greatly admired Hatim’s courtesy, and treated him with the
highest respect. After various conversation, Hatim took his leave, and
the king said to him at withdrawing, “Brave stranger, I trust you will
gladden my heart by residing some time at my court.” Hatim remained
six months in the capital, and every day went to pay his respects to
the king, with whom he became a great favorite. He one day, observing
the king in good humor, took the opportunity of presenting to him a
casket of most valuable jewels. The king received the jewels with
great satisfaction, and having made Hatim sit by him, said, “Noble
stranger, you have now resided with us for months, but never have I
had the pleasure of doing you the least service. I am ashamed when I
look upon the numerous gifts you have bestowed upon me, and when I
consider that you have never asked of me any favor in return.”--“May
your Highness live long,” rejoined Hatim; “there are few things
earthly which I desire; but, if I may be allowed to express my wish,
there is one boon I will venture to ask of you.”--“It is already
granted,” replied the king; “therefore, speak your wish and it shall
be satisfied.”
Hatim availed himself of this favorable opportunity, and said to the
king, “I have an ardent desire to explore the bath of Badgard; I
humbly crave your Majesty’s permission, therefore, that I may satisfy
my curiosity.” The king for a long time held down his head in silent
meditation, while Hatim stood by anxiously waiting the result. At
length his Highness broke silence, saying, “Stranger, your request has
caused me much concern, for various reasons: in the first place, I
have made a vow never to let mortal man visit the bath of Badgard;
secondly, if you go, you must inevitably perish in the prime of youth;
thirdly, I esteem you so highly, that I should forever regret having
permitted you to throw away your life; and, fourthly, I cannot endure
the idea of parting with you, on any account. Consider, then, my dear
friend, how painful it is for me to grant the fatal boon you ask.”
To this Hatim replied, “Sire, I have experienced many dangers, and I
have every hope of returning safe from the bath of Badgard.” He then
related the whole of his past adventures in behalf of the Assyrian
prince Munir, the lover of Husn Banu, and stated in conclusion, that
his seventh and last labor was to explore the bath of Badgard. The
king listened to Hatim’s narrative, and after he had finished, said to
him, “Generous man! heaven will assuredly protect you in what remains
of your task; for there lives not, as I conceive, a more worthy object
of the care of Providence than you. Let me, however, once more remind
you, that multitudes of people have hitherto entered that mysterious
bath, and none has returned; but I hope you will be more fortunate.
Meanwhile tell me truly your name and rank, for you are not what you
seem.”--“My name is Hatim, and my father is king of Yemen,” was the
reply.
When the king heard this, he arose from his seat, clasped Hatim in his
arms, and said, “You speak the truth, brave prince of Yemen; your brow
is stamped with the seal of royalty; and your name is destined to be
proverbial in the world for everything that is noble and generous.”
Having thus spoken, the king commanded a passport to be written for
Hatim, to be presented to the keeper and guardian of the bath of
Badgard. When the order for admittance to the bath was ready and
impressed by the royal seal, the king delivered it to Hatim, and
appointed a few of his people to accompany him.
Hatim took an affectionate leave of the king, and attended by his
guides, betook himself to the road. Fifteen days after, the top of a
mountain became visible. Hatim asked his guides, “What mountain is
this before us, whose lofty peak pierces the vault of heaven?”--“It is
the mountain of Badgard,” they replied, “and the entrance into the
bath is on the side of it; but near as it may seem, it is still seven
days’ journey hence.” When they arrived at the base of the mountain,
Hatim was surprised to see it begirt with legions of armed men. He
asked his guides whose were the troops, and was told in reply that
they were under the command of the keeper of the bath, which no one
could approach without an order from the king of Katan. At length they
reached the outposts of the sentinels, who asked Hatim who he was, and
what was his business. The guides replied, “This is the prince of
Yemen, who has received the royal permission for admittance within the
bath.”
The sentinels immediately conducted Hatim before the keeper, to whom
he presented his passport. The keeper opened and inspected the royal
firman, which ran thus: “Know that it is our will that you admit the
prince of Yemen into the bath of Badgard. Let him not meet with the
least interruption on account of our late vow; and if it is in your
power to prevail upon him to return ere it be too late, fail not to do
so, and your reward shall be great.” The keeper folded up the
passport, conducted Hatim to his house, and entertained him for three
days in the most hospitable manner. He then began to advise him
earnestly not to proceed further; but on no account would Hatim listen
to his friendly counsel.
The keeper of Badgard, finding all his entreaties of no avail, at
length wrote to the king that the prince of Yemen was resolute in his
design. The king reluctantly answered, “If it must be so, grant him
admittance into the bath.” Once more the keeper endeavored to dissuade
him from his rash design, but Hatim’s resolution was fixed as a rock.
“Follow me, then, desperate man,” said the keeper, “and the blame be
yours.” Hatim followed the keeper till they came to the door of the
bath. Its size was immense, such as he had never seen during his whole
life. High on the wall was written the following words, “These are the
enchantments of King Kaiumarath, which are destined to last for a
time; whosoever enters shall not return. Here he shall remain without
hunger or thirst.”
When Hatim had read the inscription, he began to meditate within
himself whether that information was not sufficient, and if it would
not be needless to go further; but on mature reflection, he resolved
to enter and examine the place with his own eyes. He took leave of the
keeper, and boldly entered the door of the bath. He had advanced but
three steps, when, on looking around him, he saw neither the keeper
nor the gate of the bath, but a wide and dreary desert. He stood still
in astonishment and said to himself, “O Hatim, here is certainly the
end of thine earthly pilgrimage.” At length he aroused himself from
despairing thoughts and began to wander about the desert. After some
time he espied at a distance a human form, and great was his joy at
the sight; for he concluded that the place was inhabited at no great
distance.
He bent his steps toward the figure, and was delighted to find that it
was approaching him. When they came near each other, the strange
figure saluted Hatim, and having produced a mirror, presented it to
him. Hatim looked at the mirror, and said to the giver, “What is this
I see in the mirror? Is it not the bath of Badgard, and are you not
the keeper?”--“I am,” was the reply. “Tell me,” said Hatim, “how am I
to find the bath?”--“Proceed forward,” said the strange figure, “and
you will soon reach it.”
Hatim, rejoiced at this information, asked the man who he was. “I am,”
said he, “a hireling connected with the bath: I wander about here
waiting the arrival of strangers; when any one comes, it is my office
to conduct him into the bath, and attend him while bathing. For my
services I expect a handsome reward; so if you be liberal, it will be
better for you.”--“Are you the only attendant,” inquired Hatim, “or
are there others along with you?”--“There are others also who attend,”
replied the man, “but it is my turn to-day.”--“Well,” said Hatim, “I
have travelled from afar to enjoy this bath, therefore shew me the
nearest way.”
The man of the bath proceeded onwards, and Hatim followed till they
had gone nearly a farasang, when a splendid structure surmounted by a
lofty dome appeared before them. Arrived at the door the guide entered
the building, and motioned to Hatim to follow. Hatim entered, and the
attendant conducted him to a marble cistern brimful of pure water, and
said to him, “Stand in the water while I pour some of it over your
head.”--“Let me first,” said Hatim, “put off my clothes; for I cannot
enter the bath dressed as I am.” The man assisted Hatim in undressing;
after which he led him into the water, and poured three jars of the
liquid over his head. On the application of the third jar of water,
Hatim heard a tremendous sound, while thick darkness enveloped the
bath. As soon as objects became visible, he looked around him, and to
his dismay beheld the large dome converted into a solid mass of rock
transparent as crystal and hard as adamant. The floor was covered with
water, which gushed from the earth, and had by that time reached the
middle of his legs. The bath was every moment filling; and when the
water became knee deep, Hatim, in the utmost consternation, searched
round and round for an outlet from his prison. His efforts were
fruitless; no trace of the door remained; all around him was the same
solid, smooth, and transparent rock. Now the water rose to his breast,
and like a maniac he rushed backwards and forwards in search of some
way of escape. At length the depth of the water was such that his feet
no longer reached the bottom. He then kept himself afloat by swimming.
While in this state, he could not refrain from saying to himself, “O
Hatim, thy friends have uniformly dissuaded thee from this rash
undertaking; but thou hast disregarded their admonitions, and hast
cast thyself into calamity in spite of every warning. Well, what will
be, will be; if in the service of thy Creator thou shouldst lose a
thousand lives, it would be nothing.”
Finally Hatim was borne up by the water to the very pinnacle of the
dome. As his strength had become exhausted, he eagerly grasped the top
of the dome that he might rest a little from his toil. The moment he
touched the top a deafening noise like the loudest thunder burst upon
his ears, and in an instant he found himself standing in the midst of
a desert. He looked around, but nothing met his sight except the bare
earth and the silent skies. He advanced, it seemed a matter of no
moment which way, congratulating himself on his escape and considering
himself clear of the enchantment. For three days and nights he thus
proceeded, when he beheld at a distance a palace of lofty structure.
He advanced towards it, expecting to find it inhabited, and, on his
nearer approach, saw that the palace was surrounded by a beautiful
garden. As the door was opened he entered; but he had not ventured far
ere he thought it safer to remain without. He therefore made for the
gate by which he had entered, but no trace of it could he find. He was
now convinced that he had not yet got clear of the enchantment of
Badgard.
Hatim, thus helpless, wandered in every direction through the garden,
which abounded with flowers of every hue and trees bearing fruit of
every sort. As his hunger was extreme, he began to eat of the fruit;
but his appetite was not in the least diminished. At last he ventured
within the precincts of the palace, which was completely surrounded by
statues of marble. The statues stood in straight lines; and the lower
half of them seemed fixed in the solid rock which supported them.
Wrapt in wonder at what he saw, Hatim much desired to know the secrets
of that mysterious mansion. Meanwhile a bird like a parrot cried to
him from within the palace, “O Hatim, why stand you there? Why have
you washed your hands of life by journeying hither?” Hatim listened to
the voice of the parrot, and was about to enter the house, when he
happened to cast his eyes on the inscription over the door, which ran
thus: “Know, O mortal, that thou canst not escape hence with life.
This is the enchanted palace of the renowned Kaiumarath, who, when
hunting in these regions, found a diamond weighing fifty ounces. He
showed this superb diamond to his courtiers and attendants, and asked
them if they could produce another to match it. They declared that the
world did not contain its fellow. Kaiumarath then resolved to preserve
it in a place of such safety that no one could rob him of it. For this
purpose he built the bath of Badgard. The diamond is preserved in the
body of the parrot; and whosoever enters this garden shall never
return unless he get possession of the diamond. On the chair within
the hall is laid a bow with arrows; let the visitor take it up and
shoot three arrows at the parrot, and if he hit it directly through
the head he will be able to break the enchantment; if he miss, he at
once becomes a statue of marble.”
Hatim read the inscription, cast a look of despair upon the lifeless
statues, and exclaimed, “Alas, Hatim! thou too art likely to remain
here till the last day. Thou hast too rashly risked thy life and shalt
soon add another to the number of these victims. Well, in that case
thy troubles will cease, and the silence of death is preferable to the
misery of life. But if the Almighty has decreed thy success, then thou
wilt yet escape and thy friend be made happy.”
After this soliloquy Hatim entered the hall and lifted the bow and
arrows from the chair. He then took his station, applied one of the
arrows to the string, and carefully examined his distance. He drew the
arrow to his shoulder and shot; but the parrot leaped from the spot
where he stood, and clung to the roof of his cage. The arrow had
missed; and straightway Hatim’s feet became a mass of marble up to the
knees.
The parrot resumed his former station, and said to Hatim, “Desist,
rash man, ere worse befall thee.” In the utmost despair Hatim began to
consider his dismal situation, and while the tears filled his eyes, he
said, “Now indeed is my life ended; but is it not better to die than
to live in disgrace? My arrow has missed its aim and I am partly
transformed into a block of marble. Let me try another: if I succeed,
good; if not, I shall be at rest from the pangs of disappointment.” He
seized a second arrow, shot and missed; for the parrot had changed its
place as before. Again the parrot called, “Desist rash man, the
enterprise is beyond thy might.” Hatim had now become a lifeless
statue up to the waist; but he resolved to persevere to the last.
“Now,” he said, “my hope of life is indeed small; may God preserve all
others from a similar fate. My death is near, but happen what may, I
will discharge the third arrow. Whatever the Creator has decreed, must
come to pass.”
He now placed his whole reliance upon God, looked in the direction of
the parrot, took his aim, then shut his eyes, and let fly the third
arrow. In the hour of his despair the hand of heaven saved him. The
arrow pierced the brain of the parrot, which fell lifeless from the
cage. A fearful storm of whirlwinds, thunders, and lightnings burst
around him, while heaven and earth were involved in impenetrable
darkness. Hatim was terrified, and knew not whether he was still in
this world or had entered eternity. When the noise and disorder had
ceased, he no longer beheld the garden nor the palace nor the parrot.
At his feet lay the bow and arrows, and beside them a vast diamond of
brilliancy like the sun.
He rose up and seized the diamond. Instantly all the marble statues
started into life. When they saw Hatim, they asked, “Who are you, and
how have you been able to break the enchantment in which we were
held?” He told them the whole occurrence; and they prostrated
themselves at his feet and vowed to serve him while they lived. Hatim
took them with him and returned to the capital of Katan. On his way he
met some of the attendants of the bath who, on hearing the result of
his adventure, hastened to give the intelligence to their king. At
length Hatim reached the city, and had an interview with the ruler, to
whom he shewed the diamond, saying, “Sire, this jewel I present to
you; but it will be necessary for me first to shew it to Husn Banu,
after which it shall be returned to you. The people who accompany me
are poor and destitute; be pleased, then, to furnish them with the
means of subsistence till they reach their own country.” The request
was complied with and the people joyfully departed. Shortly after,
Hatim took leave of the king, who appointed a splendid retinue to
accompany him home furnished with everything requisite for the
journey. Hatim accordingly set off, and without any interruption
arrived safe in Shahabad. The people rejoiced when they saw him, and
forthwith conducted him to the gate of the palace of Husn Banu. The
lady gave orders for his immediate admission, and asked him to relate
the occurrences of his journey.
Hatim narrated in detail what he had seen and suffered, and produced
the diamond as proof. He then addressed Husn Banu, saying, “Now that I
have accomplished your tasks, may I request that you will perform your
promise to me?” She replied, “I am entirely yours. Dispose of me as
you think proper.” Hatim gave orders for a princely feast, and Husn
Banu was married to the Assyrian prince Munir, and so the two lovers
reached the summit of happiness.
The celebration of the marriage completed, Hatim took leave of Munir
and Husn Banu; and having, agreeably to his promise, sent the diamond
to the prince of Katan, he started for Yemen. When he entered the
boundaries of his native land, the whole country was one scene of joy.
“Hatim,” said the people, “after so long an absence, has returned to
his own country.” At length Hatim reached the capital of Yemen, and
was affectionately received by his father and mother. His arrival was
hailed with universal joy and every house resounded with music and
mirth.
His father shortly afterwards resigned the reins of government into
the hands of Hatim, and lived in retirement for the twelve remaining
years of his life. Hatim reigned long over Yemen; and blessed with the
affection of the beautiful Zarinposh, passed his life in uninterrupted
happiness.
Thus ended the seven adventures of Hatim Taï. May this narrative in
some degree perpetuate his memory, and cause his virtues to be
imitated by future generations.
[The End]
NOTES.
INTRODUCTION NOTES.
[i.01]
#he said to the lion# Hatim (be it known) knew the languages of all
animals, and conversed with them most freely wherever he went.
BOOK I NOTES.
[b1.01]
#Do good, and cast it upon the waters# This is a common proverb in the
Persian language.
[b1.02]
#Mahrū Shah# _Moon-faced_, an epithet expressive of great beauty of
countenance.
[b1.03]
#presented him with water to wash his hands# A well-known Mahomedan
custom previous to eating.
[b1.04]
#a painter... from behind a curtain# In Mahommedan countries, painters
draw ladies’ portraits from behind a curtain or thin veil, as it would
be considered a breach of delicacy in a female to show her face to a
stranger.
[b1.05]
#stand on the roof# Roofs in the East are flat.
[b1.06]
#delineated every line and mole# Moles are considered as a rare
beauty, and where the face has them not naturally, they are often
supplied by art.
[b1.07]
#Munīr Shamī# Shamī, the Syrian. The name Sham is applied to the
country around Damascus.
[b1.08]
#a thing laid by, will be found useful...# “Keep a thing by you seven
years and you will find use for it.”--_English or Scotch proverb_.
[b1.09]
#Părīrū# Angel-faced, or fairy-faced.
BOOK II NOTES.
[b2.01]
#Mountain of Kaf# The Mahommedans of the olden times, like the
Christians before Copernicus, considered the earth as a plane of a
circular form. On the confines or circumference of this circle it was,
of course, necessary to have a substantial balustrade, to prevent such
stragglers as might approach the remotest bounds from falling into
another world: accordingly a mountain of immense altitude, which the
Arabs called Kaf, probably from its supposed resemblance to a letter
of their alphabet of the same name, was made to extend all around the
earth. Hence the expression “from Kaf to Kaf,” signifying from one
extremity of the earth to the opposite. The mountain Kaf was further
supposed to be the abode of spirits, fairies, and giants.
The Arabian lexicographers describe this mountain as being formed of
emerald. In the Borhani-Kati, a valuable Persian Dictionary, we have
the following description of it: “Kaf, the name of a famous mountain
which surrounds the four quarters of the earth. They say that its
altitude is five hundred farasangs (nearly two thousand English
miles!) and for the most part the sea washes the base of it,” &c.
[b2.02]
#four farasangs# The farasang is nearly equivalent to four English
miles in length. The Borhani-Kati describes it as consisting of twelve
thousand guz, each guz being equal to twenty-four finger breadths.
[b2.03]
#Jumat# Jumat or Juma is that day of the week which the Mahommedans
have appointed for devotion, and answers to our Friday.
[b2.04]
#Shahmuhra# Shah-muhra, a fabulous precious stone, supposed to be
found only in the mouth of the dragon or serpent.
[b2.05]
#the arrow of love still pierces my heart# Oriental writers place the
seat of affection not in the heart but the liver; at least the latter
is the part at which Cupid generally aims his arrows. We find the same
idea frequently expressed by the Greek poets: thus Anacreon iii. 27,
Τανυει δε και με τυπτει
Μεσον ἡπαρ, ὡσπερ οιστρος.
[b2.06]
#the natives were demons# The word [_Persian_] according to
D’Herbelot, is the name of a race of spirits which resemble neither
angels, devils, nor men; being what are called _Genii_ or _Demons_,
and nearly the same as the giants in Greek mythology.
[b2.07]
#Solomon# Solomon (Suleiman) is a name, than which none is more famous
in eastern tales. He is renowned not only on account of his wisdom,
but also for his magnificence and supernatural power. His dominion
extended over every living creature that inhabited the earth. The
Creator placed under his obedience the whole race of fairies, spirits,
demons and genii, good and bad, among all of which the oath by
Suleiman is inviolable.
[b2.08]
#zakkūm# The zakkūm is a tree which grows in hell: its branches and
leaves are of flaming fire, and the fruits which it bears are heads of
devils and loathsome serpents. Thus in the sacred text (Koran. sur.
xxxvii, 65, etc.): “_This tree is planted in the bottom of hell; and
its fruits are heads of devils, and verily the damned shall eat
thereof._”
[b2.09]
#Where is our king, and where are we?# Meaning, “the king is far
hence, and shall know nothing of the matter.”
[b2.10]
#we have eaten salt together# Among the Arabs, this formed the
strongest pledge of amity.
[b2.11]
#Kulzum# According to Muntakhib-ul-Loghat, Kulzum is a name given to
part of the Red Sea.
[b2.12]
#Zulmât# The regions of darkness, which are said to contain also the
water of immortality.
[b2.13]
#the two loaves which you used to cast into the river...# “Cast thy
bread upon the waters, for thou shalt find it after many
days.”--_Eccl._ xi. 1.
BOOK III NOTES.
[b3.01]
#you shall have no other wife than myself# As this injunction may
appear a little unreasonable in a country where polygamy is lawful,
the translator avails himself of the following remark on the subject
by a very eminent Orientalist, M. Garcin de Tassy. In that learned
author’s work, entitled, “Exposition de la Foi Musulmane” (Paris
1822), he states, in a note to the preface, page 3: “La polygamie
n’est pas chez les Musulmans aussi commune qu’on pourrait la croire.
D’abord il faut avoir une certaine aisance pour entretenir plus d’une
femme; et quand on a cette aisance, il faut encore vaincre la
repugnance qu’ont en général les parens de donner une fille à un
homme déjà marié; ou qui ne leur promet pas de n’avoir qu’elle
seule pour épouse.”
BOOK IV NOTES.
[b4.01]
#repeating certain attributes of the Deity# The great names, or
attributes of the deity, are one hundred, and the repetition of them
constitutes part of a Mussulman’s devotion. The formula commences
thus: “There is no God but God. He is _most merciful, most gracious,
the ruler of all, most holy_,” &c.--Vide Tychsen _Elementale Arab_, p.
22.
[b4.02]
#Khwaja Khizr# Khizr is the name of a character famous among the
Mahommedans. They say that he was vizier to Iskander Dhu’lkornain,
that he discovered the fountain of immortality and drank thereof, in
consequence of which he still lives on the earth, where he will be
allowed to remain till the day of judgment. The word Khizr signifies
_verdant_ or _green_, which is their favourite colour, having been
worn by Muhammed himself, so that the Khwaja’s habit is quite in
character.
[b4.03]
#Iblis# Iblis is one of the names of Shaitan, or the devil, and
signifies (according to the Farhang-i-Mathnavi), _desperate_, or
_hopeless of mercy from the Divine Creator_. The Mahommedans believe
that God created the devil of the purest fire, admitted him into
heaven, and appointed him to the high office of Lord Lieutenant of the
Moon; but owing to his inordinate pride and ambition, he was deprived
of his situation, and utterly expelled from the higher regions.
[b4.04]
#būtīmar# As I know not the English name for this bird, I shall add
the description given of him in the Persian Lexicons, _Borhani Kati_,
and _Farhangi Mathnavi_: “The [_Persian_] _būtīmār_ (called also,
_ghamkhar_, or the sorrowful), is a bird that frequents the banks of
rivers. He constantly mourns from fear that the water should become
exhausted; and under that impression, however great his thirst, he
never drinks. In Arabic he is called [_Persian_] _yamām_.” I may add,
that, in Richardson’s Dictionary, _būtīmar_ is translated a heron,
and _yamām_ a turtle-dove.
[b4.05]
The reader may remember a tale similar to the above in the
introduction to the Arabian Nights’ Entertainments. There is another
of the same kind in Nakhshebi’s Tales of a Parrot, near the
commencement of the work. In fact, Oriental authors of romance
frequently indulge in episodes which tend to place the conduct of
their ladies in no very favourable light. In the _Bahar-i-Danish_, a
work written by Einayatullah, in the most flowery style of which the
Persian is capable, there is a series of tales whose object is to
dissuade a young prince from marrying a beautiful lady, of whom he is
enamoured. One of these thus concludes: “O my prince, to be allured
with the outward beauty of women, and to become a wanderer in the
waste of madness, is to act contrary to the institutes of wisdom; for
a life of sorrow follows such short-lived pleasures. The adorners of
the assembly of learning and wisdom have by no means approved of such
conduct, because the roses on the cheeks of women are unblest by the
tinge and perfume of constancy.
“_When the Gods were describing instances of constancy,_
_At the name of woman, they broke their pens in despair._”
It may be observed that some of Boccacio’s tales in the Decameron,
bear great resemblance to those in the _Bahar-i-Danish_, but which is
the imitation, and which the original, it is difficult to say.
BOOK V NOTES.
[b5.01]
This is no fictitious description, as similar scenes may be witnessed
in Hindoostan to this very day. We may observe, however, that the
_satti_ is here placed in its most favourable light; and that if the
grounds on which the Hindoo defends the practice were necessarily
true, little could be said in opposition to him; but, situated as the
world now is, it is to be feared that the widow’s affection is not
always so very powerful as to carry her through the fiery ordeal. It
is to be hoped that the time will speedily come when the rays of a
purer faith will dispel from the fair regions of India a foul custom,
that has originated from the demon of superstition, and has been
maintained through the influence of a corrupt and interested
priesthood.
[b5.02]
#Siyah-dil# Black-hearted.
[b5.03]
#Mihmanseraï# The house appointed for guests or strangers.
BOOK VI NOTES.
[b6.01]
#Murghab# Murghab signifies properly an aquatic fowl, but is generally
applied to a duck. There is also a river so called in the province of
Khorasan.--Vide _Borhani-Kati_.
[b6.02]
#island of Barzakh# _Barzakh_, according to the Furhang-i-Mathravi, is
the intermediate stage between this world and the next--like the
purgatory of the Roman Catholics.
[b6.03]
#third watch# In the east, the most ordinary division of time is into
watches, or rather was so formerly. In the astronomical day of
twenty-four hours (or from sunrise to sunrise), there are eight
watches, or [_Persian_] consequently every watch is at an average
three hours. The day is divided into four watches, of which the second
terminates always at noon, hence _do-pahr_ ([_Persian_]), _i.e._ two
watches, is synonymous with mid-day; also _si-pahr_, or three watches,
signifies the afternoon. The night is, in like manner, divided into
four watches, the second of which expires at midnight. In Hindustan,
the _pahr_ is divided into eight equal parts, called [_Persian_]
_ghărī_, each equal to twenty-two minutes and a-half. We may add,
that in Hindustani, the phrase _ath-pahr_, or eight watches, signifies
perpetual.
[b6.04]
#Kibla# The Kibla is that spot to which the Musselmans direct their
face in prayer, which is now the temple of Mecca. Jerusalem was the
Kibla of the Mahommedans in the early part of Mahomet’s life, as it
had been of the Jews and Christians previously; but in the second year
of the Hijra, the Caaba of Mecca was fixed upon as the Kibla of the
Musselmans, and in that direction (as nearly as they can discover)
they turn their faces at prayer, in whatever quarter of the world they
may be situated.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES.
The last two pages of Book IV (pp. 216-217) were missing from the
source text. Until a complete copy can be found, the missing text has
been supplied by the 1830 edition published for the Oriental
Translation Fund. If you can provide the missing pages please contact
Project Gutenberg Support.
The translator’s use of both accented (_e.g._ Munīr Shamī) and
unaccented (Munir Shami) names has been preserved.
Text-version only: “#” is used to indicate bolded text.
Alterations to the text:
Add TOC.
[Footnotes]
Add several footnotes from the 1830 edition.
Convert footnotes to endnotes.
[Book I]
Change “and her being beloved by _Muneer_” to _Munir_.
“man who exclaims in the words _above mentioned_” to
_above-mentioned_.
[Book II]
“There is a fairy named _Mah-pari_” to _Mahpari_.
[Book IV]
“Sam Ahmar and _Kalmak_ soon recovered their senses” to _Kamlak_.
[End of Text]