his possessions broken into tiny bits! He believed it to have been done
by the malicious action of the girl. Dealing her a dreadful blow, he
seized her by the collar, and threw her out of the house.
At this she wept bitterly and protested her innocence, but the enraged
man would not listen. There was nothing left for her but to seek
another place.
Presently she reached a tailor’s shop, gathered courage, and entered.
Now, it so chanced that this was the time of a great feast. Many orders
had come from the palace, on account of which all the tailors were busy
cutting and sewing. As a consequence, when the head tailor was asked if
he would take a new apprentice, he made ready answer: “Certainly. I
have need of one. Come in and you shall have plenty of work.”
All went well for a few days, and the poor girl hoped that the bird of
affliction had not learned of her whereabouts. But, alas! one day the
tailor went to his home and commanded her to remain behind in charge of
the shop.
Fear seized upon her so that she could not sleep until near the middle
of the night, when a sort of stupor overcame her, and, sure enough! at
exactly the same hour as before, the bird entered and did not rest
until he had torn up all the clothes that were in the place.
Then he wakened the girl and bade her look about. And what could she
see but all the garments—the beautiful gold-embroidered ones, as well
as the plain—every one, and the uncut pieces of cloth, all torn into
little bits!
When her scared eyes had taken it all in, the bird laughed hoarsely and
said: “There, my sultana! Do you see? And after this you will learn
what other sort of affliction I shall bring to you!” Having said this,
he flew away.
The morning came, and also the master of the shop. He entered in haste,
for there was much to be done that day, and looking about him—what
should he see? All the gorgeous garments, which were to go to the
palace that morning, and every piece of cloth which had not been
cut—all, alike, were torn into tiny bits!
Upon seeing this, the distracted man began to beat his head on the
stones and cry: “Alas! all my work has been brought to waste! And not
only my labor is lost, but all these costly pieces of cloth have been
destroyed!” Despair lost him his senses. He fell to the ground in a
faint.
The apprentice hastened to bring water with which to bathe his temples
and to chafe his hands and feet. After some time consciousness returned
to him, and he began asking the girl who it was that had wrought such
destruction. But, however much he questioned her, she made absolutely
no answer.
Consequently, after pondering upon the matter, the tailor said to
himself: “The boy has no money that I can take in payment for my loss.
Shall I take his soul from him?” Then he dealt a heavy blow, intending
to take the life of his apprentice, and hurled the supposed boy out of
the shop.
The poor creature was stunned, but not killed. After a little, she
recovered sufficiently to be able to make her escape. Weeping sadly at
her hard lot, she went until a chandelier maker’s shop was reached,
where she asked, with trembling, if she could be taken as an
apprentice.
But the master of the shop answered her roughly. “Go away!” he cried.
“Go away, boy! What could I do with you? I don’t need anyone to look
after me; neither do I want to look after a boy.”
However, after some time, when he saw that the poor creature would not
go away, he yielded to her desire and took her for his apprentice.
Time passed and all went well. The poor girl began to hope once more.
But upon one day, among other days, it became necessary that the master
should go away to attend to some very important business. He gave the
strictest injunction to his apprentice that the shop must be taken good
care of—that everything should be so guarded that no possible harm
could come.
When night came on, the apprentice was more than usually careful in
locking every entrance. After that she lay down in a corner.
In the middle of the night the same bird came and did all the evil to
which he had been accustomed. A stupor was upon the sleeper, so that
she did not hear the crashing of glass nor the breaking of wrought
metals. It was not until the bird had wakened her, that she knew of the
havoc that had been wrought.
As she looked about her, the same words were spoken that had greeted
her ears when other troubles came upon her: “There, my sultana! Do you
see? Wait until the other afflictions come. I shall bring more to you
of the same sort.” With these threatening words he flew away.
When morning came the apprentice opened the shop, as usual, and awaited
the coming of her master, which was not long delayed. The chandelier
maker came, and—what should he see? So many chandeliers as there were
in the shop! And all of them in utter ruin!
The anger and despair of the poor man brought him to such a state that
he looked about for a place to hang himself. In so doing he discovered
the apprentice, hiding behind some boxes in a corner. He seized a
stick, gave the poor creature a sound beating, and threw her out of the
shop.
Again the poor girl went off crying. This time she thought in her
heart: “Into whatever shop I have gone, so much harm has been brought
by the bird, and so many times have I been beaten, so many blows have I
eaten! After this, in order that no harm may be brought upon others, I
shall stay by myself. I will go and wander from mountain to mountain.”
So saying, she took the path leading in that direction. When evening
came, she found herself very hungry and thirsty. Also, she had made the
unhappy discovery that wild animals, most ferocious beasts, inhabited
the mountain upon which night had overtaken her. To escape these she
climbed to the top of a tree, where she slept, as best she could,
during the night.
When it became morning, just after dawn, the son of the king of that
country went out on the mountain to hunt and saw the apprentice curled
up in the tree. The light being yet dim, he believed that he had
discovered a strange kind of bird. So he shot an arrow at it, which
flew wide of its mark and hit the tree instead.
When the prince came nearer he saw, to his horror, that it was not a
bird at which he had shot, but a human being. Fear seized upon him. He
called out, “Are you an animal or a jinn?”
“I am neither the one nor the other,” the girl replied. “I am a man.
Fear of the wild beasts drove me to seek refuge here.”
“Then descend. And with my arrows I will protect you,” answered the
prince.
After he had assisted her down, he was touched with sympathy at her
miserable state, and at once conducted her to the palace. When they had
arrived there, and the stranger was led to the bath, she told the slave
that she would like a woman servant to be sent to her. To this one she
revealed the truth that she was not a man, but had been obliged to wear
the clothing of one, for the sake of safety. The slave woman then
bathed and dressed her in garments that were fitting.
When this had been done, all those who were in the bath were surprised;
for the one who had come to them as an apprentice lad, seemed now as
the fourteenth of the moon for beauty. Her like had never been seen in
the palace.
The slaves led her from the bath and into the presence of the prince,
who, at sight of her loveliness, became as if intoxicated in his mind.
He remained thus for more than an hour. When his reason returned he
went directly into his father’s presence.
“Most revered father!” said the prince. “Yesterday I went out to hunt
and found a most strange thing—a maiden who had been frightened by the
wild animals and had taken refuge in a tree. What could I do? It is the
province of the brave to succor the weak. Therefore I assisted her to
the ground and brought her home with me. Since she has been relieved
from terror and refreshed with the bath, she appears to me as the
loveliest and most desirable maiden in the whole world. She is become
my fate. I beg that you will permit me to marry her.”
Hardly could the king restrain his astonishment at this. “What childish
tale are you telling me, my son? Lead hither the maiden! Let me look
upon her!”
The prince made haste to command her coming, for he was assured, in his
heart, that even the king must admit her loveliness.
And it was so. When the maiden had entered, and after she had answered,
modestly, his greeting, the king was so pleased with her that he no
longer wondered at the desire of his son. He yielded to importunity and
gave his consent to the marriage.
Immediately the wedding was arranged. During forty days and forty
nights the celebrations continued. Upon the forty-first day the prince
was married to the beautiful princess.
They were very happy together. Near the end of the first year a little
daughter was born to them. Then did their happiness seem complete.
Some time elapsed. The child grew and had perfect health. One night,
when the prince, the princess, and all of their attendants were asleep,
the bird, which had bided its time patiently, came into the chamber
where lay the child and its mother. He smeared the mouth of the
princess with blood, took the child under his wing, and wakened her
roughly.
“See!” he cried. “I am carrying off your child. Wait a little! You will
learn what other afflictions are in store for you!”
As he uttered these cruel words he flew away; leaving the princess
speechless with grief, and unconscious of the blood-stains upon her
lips.
Morning came. The prince arose to find his child gone and the mouth of
his wife smeared with blood! He was amazed at the sight, but did not
permit himself to speak until he had gone into the presence of his
father, to whom, with great effort to control his grief, he confided
the state of affairs.
The king’s surprise knew no bounds. “My son,” he asked, “whence came
this girl? Where did you tell me that you had found her?”
“Upon a mountain, my father.”
“Then, although she has conducted herself becomingly and has seemed
most gentle and sweet, undoubtedly there is savage blood in her veins.
One can never tell when this may manifest itself. If she will eat her
own child, whom she loved, she may, at any time, become possessed with
the desire to eat other people.”
However, the love which both the king and the prince had for the
princess, and her own undoubted grief at the loss of the child, caused
them to hesitate as to what course to pursue. Day after day went by,
and nothing was done about the sad matter.
After a considerable time another daughter was born to them, and, in
the same way as before—though both the prince and the princess, each
without letting the other know of it, had charged the nurse and
attendants to be extremely watchful—the bird came, took the child,
again smeared blood upon the mouth of the princess, and flew away.
When morning came, the prince found the same sad state of affairs which
had bewildered him before. He could not restrain his grief, the
knowledge of which was borne to his father.
The king was moved with great indignation, along with his sorrow. He
gave command that the savage woman should be put to death.
When the prince learned of this command, his grief at the loss of the
child was swallowed up in the greater one of losing his wife. All his
love for the beautiful girl, whose life with him had only these two
blots, swept over his heart. He hastened to his father, prostrated
himself before him, and begged that, once more, her life might be
spared.
The king, seeing the grief of his son, and experiencing a like
tenderness in his own heart, was gracious once more and annulled the
sentence.
Time came and went. At the end of another year a boy was born to the
young couple. When the boy had reached the age of the other children
when they disappeared, the prince began to reflect, saying within
himself: “Should the savage instincts take possession of the princess
and she, unconsciously, destroy this child, nothing would prevent my
father from commanding and insisting upon her death.”
Thinking thus, he made up his mind to remain awake all night and watch.
After the princess had gone to sleep, the prince took a needle in his
hand, and held it in such a manner against his chin that, should he
become sleepy and nod, the point would enter the flesh and waken him.
Finally, however, a strange, heavy sleep, against which he had no power
of resistance, overcame him, and the needle dropped from his hand.
About twelve o’clock the bird came, after it had smeared blood upon the
mouth and nose of the mother, and took this third child; upon which it
wakened her, saying: “Verily, my sultana, I am going to take your boy
from you. Hereafter you shall see me again. There are other
afflictions. I will bring them to you.”
The princess tried, frantically, to detain him. But it was impossible.
Neither was she able to cry aloud. Dumb with terror, she remained
helpless while the bird disappeared with her youngest child.
When morning came and the prince arose—what should he find? That his
little son was gone, no one knew whither; and that the mouth and even
the nose of the princess were all covered with blood. Horror possessed
him. He was frantic with grief, and the king, learning within the hour
of the dreadful matter, sent an order to the chief executioner that the
princess must be killed immediately.
In obedience to the royal command, the executioner bound the hands of
the princess behind her and led her toward an open square. But the
royal prisoner was so fair and seemed so innocent and heartbroken, that
even the heart of the executioner was touched. When they were beyond
sight of those in the palace, he said to her:
“O, my princess! I cannot put you to death! Fly from here. Go in any
direction you choose; only do not return to the palace. And may Allah
give you peace!” Thus speaking, he set her free.
The unhappy young woman went away weeping bitterly. Grief at the loss
of her husband’s love, and terror as to the fate of her little ones,
broke her heart. Knowing not whither, she unconsciously pursued the
path by which the prince had rescued her when upon the mountain.
But even then she was not to escape. Presently the bird appeared.
“Ai!” she cried. “And art thou come again? Hast thou not afflicted me
according to thy wish thus far? Leave me now, I beseech thee! to mourn
over all thou hast taken from me!”
But the bird lifted her by her clothing and flew off with her.
After some time they came to a palace which was all covered with
precious stones—one never before seen by human eyes nor described by a
human tongue. It was so beautiful that the eyes of any beholder must
become dazzled at the sight of it.
Into the garden of this palace the bird descended with his burden. As
soon as their feet touched the marble wall he gave himself a shake, and
at once turned into a young prince who was like the full moon for
beauty.
When the princess saw this transformation, her terror was changed to
amazement. The prince then took her hand to lead her up the steps into
the palace, when a servant met them, leading three children whose faces
shone like the beams of a star—so fair were they to look upon.
When the princess saw them her heart beat fast and her eyes filled. But
the prince would not permit her to tarry. He conducted her—the children
following them—up the stairs, through a hall inlaid with precious
stones, and into a spacious salon. Here, after seating her, he sat down
beside her.
During all this time the children had not once removed their eyes from
the beautiful princess, whom they had met upon the staircase.
Then the prince of the fairies spoke; and these are the words that he
said: “My sultana, unto you I have done many injuries. I also took your
children from you and caused that you be delivered over to the
executioner. But not once did you tell those who afflicted you that it
was I, and not you, who had done the evil. You were patient and endured
all without complaint. Consequently, I caused this palace to be built
for you. Everything is yours. And the children, whom I took from you,
have been carefully nourished. These children, whom you now see, are
those whom you have mourned as lost. All three are yours. And,
henceforth, I am your slave.”
Upon hearing this, the princess embraced the little ones, kissing them
on the eyes and pressing them to her breast. And the children threw
their arms about their mother’s neck, weeping most piteously at the
remembrance of their grief at being torn from her.
In this reunion of mother and children whole new worlds seemed to be
opened up to them. They could not bear to be separated from each other,
neither day nor night.
Let these four remain in the summerhouse of the magnificent palace,
glad in their reunion, while we return to the other prince.
The poor young man was torn with grief—now, over the death of his
children; then, because of the reawakened love for his wife; and again,
because he believed her to be dead. Both day and night he gave himself
up to lamentations.
Now, there was an old clown, whose duty it had been to come every day
and tell amusing stories to the prince. But one day his opium gave out,
and he obtained a half hour’s leave to go to the market.
While upon the way he looked before him and saw a palace, so
magnificent as to make him rub his eyes in astonishment and exclaim:
“This palace! When was it built? Here have I been passing by, at any
hour of every day, and there has not been seen the slightest sign of
such splendor. Is this a dream, or some trick played upon me?”
Thinking thus within himself, he began to walk around its walls and
investigate. While he was doing this, the fairy prince and the princess
were sitting with the children, in the summerhouse. The fairy prince
looked out through the gateway and saw the clown from a distance.
“My sultana!” he said, “here is the prince’s clown. If you command, we
will have him within and, perhaps, gain some amusement.”
“I would have that done which will please you,” was the careful answer.
Accordingly, as the clown was examining the outer walls of the palace,
the fairy prince threw an enchanted rose down upon him; which the
clown, seeing, picked up, and when he had smelled it said: “O, how
sweetly does this rose smell! Say, you, there! Can you, also, smell?”
And, although there was no sense in the words, he kept repeating them.
It became noised about the streets that the prince’s clown was losing
his senses. And all who saw him, to the number of fifty or sixty
persons, stopped to hear the foolish utterance and to shake the head,
saying, “Alas! yes; the clown is crazy!”
Let us return to the true prince.
After two hours had passed without the return of the clown, he began to
be troubled, and ordered the chamberlain to go out and learn what had
become of the old man; also, to bring him back to the palace.
The chamberlain had gone but a little way, when he noticed a large
crowd in the public square and went near, to learn the cause of the
gathering. To his surprise, he saw that the clown was in the very
middle. Making his way to this side, he said, “The prince sends for
you.”
Only the words caused by the enchantment came in answer: “Your rose
smells sweet. Can you also smell?” But this time was added, as the
speaker looked at the chamberlain: “If they throw a rose to you, from
the palace yonder, be warned! Do not pick it up!”
These words served only to arouse the curiosity of the chamberlain. He
desired to look more closely at this marvelous palace.
The fairy prince saw him approaching and said to the princess: “Aha! we
have here the prince’s chamberlain. Shall he be invited to enter?”
“Your will should answer that, my lord!” was her reply.
Then the fairy prince gave command that the gates of the palace should
be opened and, when the chamberlain entered, servants approached to
conduct him up the stairs into the palace.
The host commanded that the chamberlain’s clothes of state should be
removed before entering his presence. Accordingly, the chamberlain was
conducted to another room; but when he attempted to remove his turban,
behold! it could not be loosened from his head.
He sat down in astonishment at this strange matter. And the servants
went to their master, with news that the prince’s chamberlain could not
take off his turban!
“What manner of man is this, that he cannot remove his turban?” cried
the fairy prince, in assumed anger. “Put the fellow without!”
So they led the chamberlain to the gates of the palace, when, as he
stooped to put on his shoes, behold! his turban fell from his head!
“Well, well!” he said to himself, as he picked it up. “You are a great
fellow! You could not take off your turban when inside the palace; why
do you remove it when you are outside?”
So he threw the troublesome thing upon the ground, hastened to where
the clown was standing, and, in a low tone that could not be heard by
those standing near, told him his story. This caused the curiosity of
these two to increase greatly.
Let us return to the prince.
After he had sent the chamberlain to bring the clown and neither of
them had returned, he called the lord of the treasury and commanded him
to find the two and bring them, straightway, into his presence.
So the lord of the treasury went out, as the others had done, and,
seeing the same crowd in the public square, joined it and took notice
of the state in which were those two whom he had come to seek. He drew
near to them and inquired the cause.
“If a rose is thrown to you from the newly builded palace,” answered
the clown, “be advised; do not smell of it!”
“And if, by chance, you enter this palace,” added the chamberlain,
“remove your turban before going in.”
The lord of the treasury, unwisely, turned to look at the palace; and,
as he looked, his will became weak. He, also, was drawn toward it.
When the fairy prince saw this, again he turned to the princess: “Here
is the lord of the treasury!” he cried. “Shall he, also, be made
foolish in mind?”
“It is you who know best,” answered the princess.
Accordingly, the lord of the treasury was admitted, who carefully
removed his turban as he entered.
“Let him take off his state garments and enter my presence in
nightclothes!” commanded the one who had drawn him thither.
The lord of the treasury attempted to obey, but found that he could not
remove his coat. However hard he tugged at it, not one fraction of an
inch would it budge!
The servants ran to tell this to their master, who exclaimed: “What
sort of man is this, who cannot remove his coat? Does he expect me to
believe such a foolish statement? Put him out, quickly!”
The servants made haste to obey, and the bewildered lord of the
treasury had taken scarcely a step when, of itself, his coat fell from
his back!
“Well, well!” exclaimed the amazed man. “Since you would remain on when
I was within the palace, why do you come off now that I am without?”
In anger he threw the coat upon the ground and went to join the others.
Time passed by, and the prince, whose people loved to obey him quickly,
became very much excited with wondering what could have become of his
messengers. He went out to seek them himself, and presently came upon
the three.
“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded. “Why have you all tarried
so long?”
At which question the clown made reply: “If the people in the new
palace throw a rose to you, do not smell it!”
And the chamberlain added: “If you enter there, remove your turban
before you pass the threshold.”
While the lord of the treasury murmured: “Leave your coat behind when
you go.”
At these strange answers the prince nearly lost his head. He felt that,
as their prince, it was his duty to solve the mystery. So he turned
and, without one word, went swiftly to the palace and demanded
admission.
The moment he stepped inside, the fairy prince, the princess—who could
hardly restrain her joy at seeing him—the three children, and all the
servants came forward to do him honor.
Speechless with astonishment, he suffered himself to be conducted up
the grand staircase and into the reception room. The eldest child
brought a chair, which it presented with deep obeisance; the second
spread a serviette upon his knee; while the tiny one, kneeling,
proffered a golden tray upon which was a costly plate. Upon the plate
were some pears, and a spoon lay beside the plate.
The surprise of the prince continued to grow; but, commanding himself
and wondering if he could be dreaming, he asked, “Should pears be eaten
with a spoon?”
Whereupon all the children made answer in chorus: “Should one believe
that a loving mother would eat her own children?”
At this answer the prince became dumb.
“Look!” they continued. “We are all your children. And this is our
mother, who loves us.”
At that moment the fairy prince appeared and said: “Ai, my prince! may
your eyes become luminous! This is, indeed, your princess. And these
are your children.”
When he had said this, the children threw themselves upon their
father’s neck. Then the princess came forward and embraced her lord.
And to the very depths of their souls were these five persons happy.
When their rapture had become somewhat calm, the fairy prince again
approached and, making obeisance, said: “I am your slave. Long ago I
was purchased for the princess, with her own money. Before that time I
had been very wicked. My own mother, the queen of the fairies, had
cursed me. As a consequence, I was thrown into this condition. I beg
your royal pardon for all I have unwittingly caused you to suffer.
“Now, if it be your good pleasure, and if you, graciously, will grant
permission, I will return to my own country and seek out my own father
and my mother. Perchance they may care to see me once more.”
“Since these later acts were not your immediate fault,” replied the
prince, “you have the gracious permission of my princess and myself. Go
in peace and refrain from future evil-doing!”
Accordingly, the fairy prince bade them adieu and went away, leaving
the beautiful palace, with its setting of costly gems, unto the others.
Then the princess caused a messenger to carry the news of her final
good fortune to her own father; who rejoiced, greatly, that the
daughter, whom he had mourned as dead, was still alive and living in
the estate due to her birth. He sent royal presents and his blessing.
Then were the prince and princess married again; and their second
wedding was celebrated during forty days and forty nights. They lived
happily ever afterward.
And may Allah grant the same to us!
STORY OF THE WATER-CARRIER
The tellers of stories and narrators of tales say that, once upon a
time, there was a king who had only one child and that a daughter.
Now, it happened that the king’s vizier, whose house was directly
opposite the palace, was likewise circumstanced with regard to his
family. And, moreover, the two young ladies had each a room in the very
front of her dwelling, and each was very beautiful.
One day the two were sitting at their respective windows, furtively
regarding each other across the street, when a tall and handsome
water-carrier chanced to pass. Seeing him thus, the king’s daughter
spoke.
“O, water-boy, water-boy! Which is the more beautiful, the vizier’s
daughter or I?”
The water-carrier gazed upon each in turn, then answered: “My princess,
both of you are very beautiful; but, since one must not lie to the
child of his king, the vizier’s daughter is the more so.”
This testimony so wrought upon the jealous princess that she became ill
in consequence, and was unable to rise from her bed. The king was
greatly disturbed at this. He summoned the court physician and the
other learned men, who came to discover what was her ailment and to
cure her, if possible.
The princess gave gold pieces to these men and ordered them to tell her
father that this illness would prove fatal, unless the vizier’s
daughter were killed and some of her blood given as a medicine.
The physician was a weak man and afraid to anger the daughter of his
king. He went to her father with the cruel request. Immediately a
command was sent to the vizier. But that fond and daring father killed
a little kitten and sent its blood instead.
Then, becoming afraid, he summoned a carpenter and had a walnut box
made and beautifully fitted up, inside; into which he put his daughter
and then ordered his faithful servant to take it to the market and sell
it, regardless of the price.
Placing himself in the shadow, the anxious father waited to note the
disposal of the box with its precious contents. He had not waited long,
when the water-carrier, whose truthfulness had caused all the mischief,
came by and stopped to look at the walnut box.
“Here is a handsome fellow, whose heart surely will be touched into
pity and love at sight of my daughter,” thought the vizier; so he made
a sign to the servant, who asked the young man if he would not like the
box.
“Surely I would like it,” was the response. “But the wood is valuable
and the parts are well joined. The price will be high.”
“Indeed, no,” answered the servant. “I am worn with waiting and must be
off at once. Give me five paras and the box is yours.”
The water-carrier smiled. “Aha! I see the price is naught to you. I
will give you three.”
“Take it and hasten! For I am needed already, at a great distance.”
The purchaser gave him the money, called a porter, and ordered him to
bring the box along with him to his house.
Offering a prayer to Allah for the safety of his child, the vizier,
followed by his servant, hastened away; while the porter strapped the
box upon his back and then followed the water-carrier, until, in
obedience to his direction, he placed it in the young man’s room, where
it remained that night.
After the young man had gone out, the next day, to follow his
avocation, the vizier’s daughter unlocked the box from within, opened
it, stepped out, and looked about her. The whole house was in disorder.
She was a girl of very tidy habits and decided to make the bed, sweep,
and put at rights the whole place generally. This she did and, when the
time approached for the return of her young owner, lay down again in
her box and locked it from within.
Imagine the surprise of the water-man when he returned in the evening
and found everything in delightful order!
“I wonder who has been here?” he thought. Then, being very tired with
long walking, he went to bed and slept soundly all that night.
Morning came. “I must get a locksmith to open this walnut box for me,”
he said; then went out upon his daily round.
No sooner had he gone than the maiden unlocked the casket, arose, and
did as on the day preceding. At evening she lay down in the walnut box,
as before.
The young man entered, saw everything in beautiful order, and stood for
some time thinking. Then he went to the box and tried the lock. It
would not yield.
“If anyone is within, let him come forth!” commanded the water-man.
But, though he waited long, no sound was heard in answer. He then went
to bed and slept peacefully until morning, when he arose earlier than
usual.
This caused the heart of the girl in the walnut box to tremble.
However, she remained quiet, and soon found that wisdom had impelled
her silence; for the young man returned very shortly, with a fine piece
of meat, which he had gone to the butcher’s to buy. Laying it down upon
a table, he said:
“If Allah approve, I will cook this to-morrow.” Then he took up his
water skins and went out for the day.
The maiden no longer feared discovery. She arose, swept the house, as
upon other days, cooked the meat, carefully covered and laid it away;
then, seeing many pieces of soiled clothing about, she said: “It is
better to wash clothes than to be killed at the caprice of a princess,”
and began busying herself in that way when, most unexpectedly, the
master of the house entered!
At sight of him the poor girl covered her face and cried: “Alas! alas!”
But the water-man recognized her and was filled with joy. He asked how
her condition had become so changed; and, after hearing her story, went
nearer to her and said:
“Ai, my princess! You are mine; but I, also, am yours. Let us be
married!”
The young woman gave her consent, a few of the neighbors were summoned
hastily, and, with due ceremony, they were married and lived very
happily until, both of them fearing discovery, the husband loaded forty
donkeys with merchandise, placed his wife upon another, and sent her to
the home of his mother, with whom the young woman lived for some time.
However, it is a true saying that the beauty which causes envy in the
hearts of others seldom brings happiness to its possessor. Some of the
women of the place became jealous of the newcomer and wrote a letter to
the husband, telling him that his wife had forgotten him and was in
love with another.
This so incensed the young husband that he sent word that he was coming
home, bought a dagger, and set out to kill his wife. As he approached
the house he saw her coming to meet him, with silver candlesticks in
her hands.
But when she saw that his face was dark and threatening, and that he
was drawing a dagger from his belt, she ran to the bank of a stream
which flowed in front of the house, sprang into it, and was carried
away toward the sea.
“Let her go!” cried all the neighbors, who had come out to watch the
affair. “She is not worthy of a good home nor of a kind husband.”
Now, farther down, there were fishermen upon the banks of the stream.
As the drowning girl was swept along by the current, the nets caught
her, and the fishermen, feeling something heavy in the nets, made haste
to draw them in. Their surprise upon finding a girl, instead of a heavy
draught of fishes, was very great. They hastened to work over her until
she had come to life, when—because she was very beautiful—they began to
quarrel as to whom she belonged.
Finally, as they were coming to blows, one of them said: “Let me throw
this arrow; then let all of us run after it. Whichever finds it first
shall have the prize.”
Accordingly, he threw the arrow, and all of them started off. While
they were engaged in seeking it the girl caught the opportunity to run
away. And as the one who threw the arrow was very strong of arm, they
were so long in finding it that she had accomplished a goodly distance
before they discovered their loss.
The poor girl ran and ran, until she met a Jew, who laid rough hands
upon her and said: “Ai, my girl! as you seem to belong to no one, I am
going to take you. You shall not be let to run wild in this manner.
Henceforth you are mine.”
Then the despairing girl held up the two silver candlesticks—which had
been in her hands all the time—and while he was securing them in his
pack, she ran again, until she came to a fountain, where she sat down
exhausted.
While she was sitting thus, the son of the king of that country came
by, and, seeing her, sat down and talked with her. Notwithstanding her
weariness and all through which she had passed, her attractiveness was
so great that, after he had been beside the fountain but a little
while, he asked if she would accompany him to the palace and become his
bride.
To this she made answer: “Most gladly will I do this that you ask, O,
most noble prince! if you first will grant a request of mine.”
“It is granted already, my princess! Now tell it to me.”
“Since it is beside this fountain, and because of it, that I may have
been found by you, may I ask that an agreeable place may be built here
in which travelers may drink of the water and rest a little? And, since
you seem pleased to look at me, will you have my portrait put into the
bottom of the basin, so that all who lean over to drink in the fountain
may see it?”
“All this will I have done at once, my princess,” answered the prince.
He then took her by the hand and together they went to the palace.
The fountain was builded as described, and, not far away, a tiny tower
was put up from which the prince and the young woman whom he had found
could see all those who came to drink at the beautiful fountain.
Now, it very soon happened that the fishermen, passing that way,
stopped to drink of the water which flowed clear and bright. As they
leaned over the marble basin they saw the girl’s image, and each fell
to the ground in a faint.
While they were lying thus the Jew approached, and, in stooping to
drink, he, too, lost his senses and fell down beside the others. Last
of all came the water-carrier; and no one needs wonder that
consciousness left him upon the instant.
Now, the one whose portrait had so distressed them all—the evil each
had done her being so upon his conscience that he felt the image had
come to wreak vengeance—was watching from the window of the little
tower.
“My prince,” said she, gently, “will you graciously come and look
toward the fountain?”
Upon seeing the fallen bodies of the men, he turned to her, saying:
“There is some mystery here. These men have wronged you in some way.”
And without waiting for an answer he commanded that they all be put in
irons.
When they had recovered consciousness and were safely lodged in prison,
the prince and the young woman went in to look at them.
“O, prince, gracious and kind!” said she. “These fishermen drew me out
of the water, and, while they quarreled over me, I made my escape. This
Jew met me in my flight, treated me roughly, and would have made me his
slave, but, while he was dazzled with the silver candlesticks in my
hand, I fled again. This water-carrier was my husband. Without granting
me the privilege of proving myself innocent, he believed evil reports
which jealous persons related to him, and came prepared to kill me. It
was because of this that I tried to drown myself.”
“Is all this possible?” exclaimed the astonished prince. “Then the Jew
and the fishermen shall be punished with forty stripes and forty days’
imprisonment. As for the water-carrier, do you decide what shall be
done with him. In this matter your word shall be my law.”
Thereupon the water-carrier fell down at the woman’s feet and kissed
the hem of her raiment. “Kill me, O, my beloved!” he cried, “for,
indeed, I am worthy only of death. But first grant thy forgiveness! It
was the madness of my love which drove me to kill thee, when those evil
tidings came. I had been diligent in business, praying Allah to grant
me success, so that I might build a fitting home for thee and me. And
my efforts were crowned with the answer to my prayer. At the very time
when the tidings came, I was about to come to thee with the precious
news; and, therefore, was the more easily incensed. But I ask not for
mercy, O, my beloved! Do as thou wilt with me. It will be just.”
“Then, if the prince will be gracious still, and I return unto thee,
wilt thou, henceforth, learn the truth before thou sharpenest thy
dagger?”
“Canst thou believe me, O, my wife? A thousand times, yes!”
Then the prince, whose eyes were full, gave the woman to her husband.
They returned home, were married all over again; the wedding was
celebrated for forty days and forty nights, after which they lived long
and happily. Salaam!
STORY OF THE COFFEE-MAKER’S APPRENTICE
The tellers of stories and narrators of tales relate that, once upon a
time, there was a valiant youth who had fallen into very poor
circumstances, which it seemed impossible to mend. Therefore he decided
to try his fortunes in other lands; and, the thought occurring to him
that he would not like every chance passer to discover his identity, he
disguised himself and fared forth.
After going and going, for a long time, he found himself in another
country; and, being weary, he entered the coffeehouse of an old, old
man whom, after he had refreshed himself with the unsatisfactory
coffee, he asked permission to serve as an apprentice.
The proprietor of the little shop regarded him sadly and replied: “Ai,
my son! the coffeehouse is old and does not attract customers—as you
see. I have only one or two. They bring me in not more than five or ten
paras (ten paras = one cent) a day; out of which I must buy bread for
the evening. That is all I have to live on. Even should you offer to
serve me for nothing, how could I take you?”
But this did not abash the young applicant. “Father,” he replied, “I
ask nothing whatever from you. Only I beg that you permit me to thrust
my head into this refuge, that I may know myself to be out of harm’s
way.”
It would have required a harder heart than beat in the old
coffee-maker’s bosom, to deny so simple a request. “Very well, my son,”
he answered. “Remain! and may peace be upon us! We will get on with
whatever Allah sends.”
The youth then kissed his master’s hand and went into the shop, where
he sat down to think upon his new estate and to plan what he could do
to increase the fortune of his discouraged master.
When evening came, the old man arose. “My son,” he said, “I am going
home now. When you are ready to sleep, lock the house carefully.” With
these words he went away, leaning heavily upon his stick—for he was
very old.
The apprentice locked the door after him and lay down above the
counter, where, after a little, he composed himself to sleep.
Exactly at midnight there was a knock upon the door. The sleeping youth
wakened but did not arise. Another moment and the door—which was
locked—opened, without difficulty, and a dervish entered with a salaam!
The astonished apprentice returned the salute, without feeling quite
sure whether he were asleep or awake.
“Arise, boy!” commanded the midnight visitor, “and make me a cup of
coffee; but expect no money for it.”
The boy, thus commanded, arose at once and made the coffee, which the
dervish drank without a word, and directly left the shop. The
apprentice looked after his departing figure and said: “May Allah grant
success to your journey!”
Afterward he relocked the door, lay down in his place, but could not
sleep again that night. When morning brought his master to the shop,
the two greeted each other, but no word concerning the strange visitor
of the night before passed between them.
The day passed slowly enough to the apprentice lad, and, when the shop
was closed at night, he lay down and went to sleep as before. “Such
occurrences come not often in pairs,” he said to himself. “I shall have
peace to-night.”
But exactly at midnight there was the same knock which had startled him
twenty-four hours earlier. He had only time to sit up in his place when
the door opened, noiselessly, and two dervishes entered, made each a
salaam, and commanded: “Arise, youth! Prepare us two cups of coffee;
but expect no money for them.”
Their command was obeyed; the coffee was drunk in utter silence; after
which they departed, without a word of thanks or so much as a glance
toward the one who had served them.
“May Allah grant success to your journey!” said the youth, as he closed
the door after them and returned to his place; where he lay until
morning thinking about the strange visitors and wondering what he would
better do.
The following day passed as the first one had. After the old
coffee-maker had gone at night, the lad locked the door and piled
everything he could find in front of it.
“My master’s goods shall not be devoured in this thankless way, if I
can prevent it. Should these midnight visitors be Allah’s messengers,
nothing I can do will obstruct their coming; so this will do no harm.”
Feeling quite sure that he would not be disturbed, he went to sleep.
Exactly at midnight came the same knock, followed by a great noise as
the barricade tumbled away from the door to give space for the entrance
of three dervishes, who made salaams and said, as with one voice:
“Arise, lad! Make us three cups of coffee; but do not expect us to give
you money.”
The surprised youth arose, made and served the coffee. As they received
it each one arose. The first one said: “In whatever coffeehouse this
youth chooses to be, may the coffee and sugar boxes never be empty! May
their contents continue level with the top!”
The second dervish said: “In whatever coffeehouse this youth chooses to
be, may customers never be lacking! Like ants may they flock thither!”
But the third dervish said: “May all things whatsoever this youth
desires to know, be told to him by a little bird!”
After these strange words the three left the shop; and the boy, wishing
them the customary good speed, locked the door, put the scattered
articles in their proper places, and lay down in his place. But if it
had been difficult for him to sleep after the strange occurrences of
the previous nights, how could it be other than impossible this time?
He arose earlier than usual and opened the door, to
find—verily!—customers, like ants, without; waiting, in varying degrees
of impatience, to be served.
“Praise be to Allah!” he exclaimed. “The prophecy of the second dervish
is fulfilled!”
Greeting them courteously, he hastened to the stove to prepare the
coffee, and, as he opened the boxes, behold! they were full to the top!
Without in any degree lessening his speed to serve the customers, his
thoughts ran upon all that the dervishes had said. He could not pause
an instant, for, as soon as one was served, another came to take his
place; so that when the master approached, what was there but a sight
that made him rub his old eyes, to make sure that they were not
imagining vain things?
“What mystery is this!” he exclaimed, and remained still, perfectly
overcome, having strength only to put his finger between his teeth, in
order to assure himself that it was, indeed, he, and that he stood
before his own shop. “Every day and every day I had one customer—or
perhaps two—never three. There certainly must be some magic about
this!”
Approaching nearer, with difficulty he found a place by which to enter;
but, within, there was none in which to sit. So he turned to the busy
youth and said: “My son, the coffee and sugar must be exhausted.”
“I have provided both,” was the cheery response. “Let me persuade you
to sit down, my master, and look to your own comfort and enjoyment.”
The bewildered proprietor retired to a corner and sat down; while on,
through the day, his apprentice continued to labor.
At night, when it was time to close the shop, the master went to the
money drawer; and there—above all wonders!—what should he see? It was
level to the top with money!
The gratified man almost went out of his senses. He cried: “Bravo! my
lad. Thy feet are the bearers of good fortune!” Then, in his joy, he
kissed the youth’s eyes.
The money sacks were filled, and the delighted master took them home.
The apprentice cleared up the shop and retired to his place above the
counter, where he slept undisturbed until morning.
During several months the youth remained in the coffeehouse and
continued his services to the customers, who came in such great numbers
that there was no place to put the money. When this had come to pass he
said: “Master, I desire to return to my own country once more. Will you
grant permission?”
“Ai, my son! I do not like to part with thee. Not only hast thou
brought great riches to me and my family, but I have come to love thee
from my heart.”
Nevertheless, when the request was repeated, he replied: “Very well;
go, my son! And may Allah prosper you as he has prospered me!”
Thereupon the boy kissed the old man’s hand; who went out and bought
him a suit of clothes, the like of which he had never seen. The
garments were rich with gold embroidery; and precious stones made them
fit for a prince. When the old man had delighted his eyes with looking
at his apprentice in his new garb, he let him fare forth.
After days of journeying, and before he had come into his own country,
the young adventurer decided to stop for a while. He hired a
coffeehouse, and, no sooner had he opened it, than so many customers
flocked thither that it was almost impossible to count them. In short,
this coffee-maker became famous throughout the town; so much so, that a
very rich man—one noted in those parts—was unable longer to control his
curiosity and made a visit to the coffeehouse of which he had heard
such flattering reports.
While the youth was preparing an especially delicious cup for him, the
visitor sat in almost open-mouthed admiration of his attractive young
host. After drinking the coffee he astonished the young man with these
words:
“Ai, master coffee-maker! I have a daughter whose hand many are seeking
in marriage. If Allah wills, and you so desire, I will give her to you.
What say you?”
When he had recovered himself, the youth bowed low and said, “Verily,
honored sir, would it be possible for me to refuse a daughter whom you
would give to me?”
Other conversation followed, during which the visitor was more deeply
impressed with the desirability of this young man for a son-in-law. He
proposed to take him to his own house, and, once there, summoned
guests, and the two young people were married that very day. The guests
partook of costly refreshments, wished unalloyed happiness to the young
pair, and departed.
When the festivities were over and the bridegroom had a moment in which
to withdraw from everyone, he summoned the little bird, whose services
the third dervish had promised, but of which he had not felt the need
before, and asked if his wife would love him.
The little creature hopped close to his ear and chirped into it, “How
is it possible for her to love you, when she already is in love with
her own cousin?”
This answer decided the youth to abandon his new relations and return
to the coffeehouse; which he accordingly did.
The rich man and his family asked each other, “What manner of man is
this, who leaves his wife upon the very day of their marriage?”
But all their questioning would not induce the return of the
bridegroom. “It were better to consult your daughter before giving her
in marriage to a stranger,” was all he would vouchsafe in explanation.
Shortly after, another rich man came and made the same proposal,
allowing no time for serious thought or for consultation with the small
oracle.
“There can be hardly such another case,” said the youth to himself, as
the rich man pressed his suit; so the matter was accepted and carried
out as was the other. But when the small bird was summoned, it answered
that the father had married his daughter to the coffee-maker, well
knowing that her heart had been given to a son of their neighbor.
So the second time the bridegroom left the house of his father-in-law
and returned again to his own place.
One day, not long after, as he was walking by the seashore, meditating
upon the strange way in which life was leading him, he came upon a
shepherd accompanied by his daughter. The shepherd’s lassie was young
and very winsome. It was not strange that the lonely young coffee-maker
should look at her a second and even a third time, or that he should
address the father with:
“Ai, good shepherd, is this your daughter?”
“Thanks be to Allah, yes!”
“Then, O, shepherd and dear! according to the law of the Prophet, will
you marry her to me?”
To which the father made answer, “My lord, is a shepherd’s daughter
worthy to marry such an one as you?”
“I have found her so,” was the answer; and, after further words, he led
the two to his own home and engaged the girl to himself.
Afterward he consulted the bird, which assured him that the shepherd’s
daughter had never seen anything of the world; that her life had been
plain and simple, and that her heart was pure and good.
At this the young man was filled with delight. He cried, “I have found
the one whom my heart has been seeking all my life.”
Let these stay here while we go to the rich men, whose daughters this
youth had slighted.
When they learned that he, who had spurned their daughters, was about
to marry a simple shepherd lass, they became filled with indignation
and determined to bring him before the law.
Upon receipt of the summons the accused young man went, most willingly,
to appear in court. There he found gathered together, with their
friends, all those who were against him. After the assembly was called
to order, the plaintiffs arose and said, each after the other:
“Verily, O, coffee-maker! you married my daughter in accordance with
the divine law; but you left her at once after the marriage. I demand
your reason for such action. What fault have you against my daughter?
Now I learn that you are about to marry—and with satisfaction—a
shepherd’s daughter. Is such an act worthy of you? Know, then, that I
am bringing a suit at law against you.”
Upon the utterance of these words the faces of all in the room became
severe and threatening.
However, the youth arose and made courteous answer: “My masters, let
your lady daughters be called! Examine into this matter well. If I have
committed a fault, let me receive equal punishment!”
Accordingly, while all waited, swift messengers were sent, and the
young women came, each in her own fine carriage. After all present had
gazed upon them, taking note of their gorgeous apparel and
self-consequent airs, they turned to the accused man, who summoned the
little bird and, receiving it upon his finger, held it up before them
all and asked concerning the characters of the two who had just
entered.
“They are vain, selfish, and worldly,” was the delicate, chirped
answer. “They would make unfaithful wives.”
“Did you hear, my masters? And you, assembled people? Would you take
such an one into your lives and close to your hearts?”
Although he waited, no one answered. Some shook their heads.
“And, if you would not, how can you expect it of me? And, furthermore,
I would add that should any of you have doubt concerning the
truthfulness of this little diviner, do not hesitate to express it;
and, in proof, I will call upon him to tell your characters and those
of your wives.”
But they all arose in dismay, crying: “O, no; my son! We will not ask
such foolish questions. Our time is precious. We would not vex the
little creature with further words. Take this gold and go in peace!”
They hastened out, one after another, leaving the coffee-maker and his
little bird alone.
“Ai, my birdling!” he said, smiling, “there is not one who dares
dispute thee. Let us, also, depart!”
So saying, he returned to his own house, where, during forty days and
forty nights, he celebrated his marriage with the daughter of the poor
shepherd.
So these two had peace and their hearts’ desire of happiness, and lived
happily ever afterward. Salaam!
STORY OF THE CANDY-MAKER’S APPRENTICE
The tellers of stories and narrators of tales say that, once upon a
time, there lived a woman who had a son and a daughter who were dearer
to her than all else upon the earth. She was so anxious concerning them
that they were never permitted to go upon the streets.
One day, to her great disquiet, it became necessary for her husband to
go to the Hejaz, and that the son should accompany him.
“I am leaving you and the girl under the protection of the priest,”
said the father, in an effort to lessen her anxiety. “If you should
have need of anything, ask it of him.” So saying, accompanied by the
son, he took leave of his wife and daughter and set off to the Hejaz.
Let us come to the priest.
One day, when he went up to the minaret to give the call to prayer, he
looked down into the garden of this man and woman, and saw there the
girl who had been intrusted to his care.
Now, the girl was very lovely. And when he saw her, she was engaged in
caring for the flowers in the garden. As she did so a soft melody came
from her lips. It was like the humming of a bird.
The priest’s heart was touched. He forgot his vows and fell in love
with the maiden. When he had reached home, the picture of the peaceful
garden, with its gentle occupant among her flowers, stood ever before
his eyes; and the music of her song rang through and through his heart,
until he lost all wisdom and made up his mind that he would meet the
maiden, at all costs.
He sought out a poor and aged woman among his parishioners, and, giving
her a sum of money, told her to bring the daughter of the man who had
gone to the Hejaz to some place where he would be able to talk with
her.
“That will be very difficult,” the woman replied. “The mother of this
girl has never permitted her to leave the house and garden.”
“If you want the money,” insisted the priest, “you must bring it about
that I can speak to this maiden. Otherwise—” and he reached out his
hand to take back the gold.
This decided the woman, who was very poor. “Very well,” she hastened to
say, “to-morrow, at such a time, I will bring this maiden to the house
of my friend yonder.”
Then they parted.
The next day the aged woman took a make-believe bundle of towels and
other bathing necessities, and went to the home of the mother, where
she asked that the daughter be permitted to accompany her to the
opening of a new bathing house.
“There will be fine performances there,” said she, “and very many
beautiful girls of high degree will bathe there to-day, and afterward
watch the performance. Let your daughter go with me, to join the
others. She should see something of life. I will take good care of her
and bring her back early in the evening.”
But the answer was: “Mother, up to this time my daughter has not been
one of those who gad about to different places. Just two days
ago—counting yesterday and to-day—her father went to the Hejaz. Should
I let her go out during his absence, people will say that as soon as
the father is away, then my daughter and I begin to walk the streets.
They will be surprised and scandalized.”
The old woman became importunate. “Visiting the bath is quite different
from running about to other places,” she said. “No one will talk.
Besides, I am not asking you to go; I am only asking why your daughter
must remain at home, when the daughters of so many of your neighbors
go? Do not refuse! I shall take her with me, whether or no!”
With words like these she succeeded in persuading the mother and, after
a little, set off accompanied by the girl. They soon reached the house
appointed for the meeting, when the girl expressed surprise at not
finding many people entering. But her companion assured her that it was
yet early, and that others would come speedily. She directed the
unsuspecting girl to enter and await her coming, as she had an errand
on the next street and would return speedily. At this she hastened
away, leaving the girl with nothing to do but as she had directed.
So the maiden entered the strange house and was surprised to see there
the priest of her own quarter of the city. She went directly to him and
asked if that were the bath house in which the performers were to
display feats of strength and skill; and again expressed surprise that
no others were there.
The reply was more surprising still: “Should no others come, you and I
can spend a pleasant hour together. There is water in the next room;
bathe, if you wish; afterward I will bathe also.”
The poor girl was confused—first, at meeting the priest, then at the
consciousness that she had been deceived; but she soon collected
herself.
“With your gracious permission,” she said, “I will wash your head
first.”
He expressed gratification at this; and the girl went slowly—thinking
all the way—to bring a basin of water, with soap and towels. After her
return, and when the priest had seated himself before her, she soaped
his hair thoroughly, and then poured water upon it, so that the soap
ran down into his eyes. Then, as he became blinded with pain and rage,
she made her escape to her own home.
The mother expressed delight at her early return; but questioned
whether she had enjoyed herself.
“Very well, indeed,” was the reply—given to save her mother from
vexation. “The bath was perfect.”
After his calls for help had brought assistance, the priest went home
vowing vengeance. Accordingly he sat down and wrote to the young girl’s
father, saying that, since his departure, the daughter whom he had so
cherished was running about the streets and had become a disgrace to
the town.
When this letter was received by the father, he cried: “Alas! what
humiliation! It were better that the girl were dead!”
After long dwelling upon the frightful news a sort of frenzy took
possession of him. He commanded his son to go home, cut off the head of
his sister, dip her white garment in the blood, and return with it to
him.
“Go! go at once!” he commanded; and the unwilling boy set off.
After traveling all the long way he arrived at his native place. During
those days of the journey, love for his sister and horror at the
commission put upon him filled his soul. He determined to assure
himself of the truthfulness or untruthfulness of the accusation and,
even should it prove true, to rescue his sister if possible.
Accordingly he began at one end of the town and asked all whom he met
where he would be most likely to find his sister.
“Surely, in her own home,” each replied. “No one has ever seen her
elsewhere.”
Receiving only answers like this, he reached his own home and knocked
at the gate.
“Why, it is my brother!” exclaimed the sister, as she looked through
the lattice. Then, flying down the stairs, she greeted him joyfully and
escorted him up the staircase, asking eagerly where her father was.
The boy, seeing that the mother was not in, answered: “He is on the
way. Come, let us go to meet him!”
They hastened out. The youth led the way to a mountain, where he said:
“My sister, I have sad news to tell you. A letter was sent to our
father by the priest in whose charge he left you, saying that you were
constantly running about the streets and had become a disgrace to the
place. Upon hearing this he was made into another man. His grief and
disappointment put the heart out of his body. He sent me here to kill
you. And, to assure himself of my obedience, he commanded that I should
dip your white garment in your blood and bring it to him with all
speed. This—O, sister of mine!—is the reason for my coming.”
The girl was speechless when she heard these words, and even did not
think to contradict the report. The boy hastened to kill a young lamb,
which he found in a flock near-by, dipped the garment of his sister in
the warm blood, and then said to her:
“Ai! my sister, this is our day of parting. It will be necessary for
you to go into a strange land. And may Allah be with you! May he be
your helper!”
They embraced each other and separated. The desolate girl wandered,
weeping, from mountain to mountain, while the boy took the garment that
had been dipped in lamb’s blood, and returned all the long way to the
Hejaz and gave it to his father, saying:
“Here, my father! Receive the bloody garment of your daughter, which I
have brought in fulfillment of your command.”
“Now shall my house be saved from the tongue of slanderers!” were the
only words of the father as he received the token which meant, to him,
the death of his only daughter.
Let these remain here while we return to the wandering girl.
After walking and walking from one mountain to another, she came upon a
spring, beside which grew a tree. She drank of the delicious water,
then sat down in the shade of the tree to rest. But it was evident that
wild animals were upon the mountain, and with the coming of evening the
helpless girl wondered what she should do. As she looked about her, the
tree seemed to lean down its branches as if in invitation. Taking this
as a sign, she climbed near to its top and remained there that night.
Now, it so happened that the son of the king of that country had been
hunting for ten days and nights. Upon the morning he came to the
spring, dismounted, and led his horse down to drink. The horse was
about to touch his lips to the water when he saw the reflection of the
young girl upon the surface, drew back suddenly, and would not be
persuaded to drink. All the urging of his master was of no avail,
although the prince knew that the poor creature was much in need of
water.
The surprised young man glanced about him in wonder at the strange
occurrence, when he caught sight of the girl, sitting in breathless
fear of being discovered.
“Are you a maiden or a fairy?” he asked, his heart beating.
“I am only a maiden.”
“That is much better. May it please you to descend. And if you will do
me the honor to accompany me to my father’s palace, this will be my
‘bag’ for to-day.”
After assisting the affrighted girl to the ground he took her upon the
horse behind him, and together they rode to the home of the prince.
Strange as it may seem, the king was not angry when his son told the
story of his rescue of the maiden, and asked permission to marry her.
“Let me see this strange game which you bring home after ten days of
hunting, my son,” he asked, smiling. And the maiden, when brought into
his presence, was so gentle and modest that he gave his consent to the
wedding.
Therefore, according to the will of Allah and the law of the Prophet,
these two young people were married, and their wedding feast lasted
forty days and forty nights.
In due course of time three children were born to them. This increased
the happiness of the prince and his gratitude to Allah at having been
led to the tree beside the spring upon the mountain.
We will leave these children while we attend to their mother, who had
been made princess.
One day the memory of her own mother—who had so cherished her—came to
her so strongly that tears, like drops of rain, began to flow from her
eyes. The prince, coming in, saw her sorrow, and asked, with concern:
“Why do you grieve thus, my princess! Are you not happy with all I have
done to make you so?”
“My lord, as I sat sewing to-day, I thought of my own mother. Desire to
see her again wrings my heart.”
“Is your mother yet alive?” He asked this because he had respected the
silence of his wife about her family, and had not questioned her
before—feeling almost certain that some sad tragedy had come into her
life. Therefore he asked, “Is your mother yet alive?”
“Ai, my lord! I trust so; though it is long since we parted.”
Then the prince exclaimed: “Why have you not spoken of it until this
moment? The desire of your heart shall be granted. Either we will bring
your mother here or you shall go to her. Choose, my princess! We will
do whichever your soul prefers.”
“My lord,” was the answer, “may Allah prolong your life and give you
health and happiness! If you will grant permission, let me go
to-morrow, with my children, and see her face once more, with my own
eyes, and at the same time show her my three little sons.”
“It shall be so!” returned the prince. “I will send my vizier, with a
number of soldiers, to conduct you and the children to your own
mother.”
Morning came, and the prince, true to his promise, called his vizier
and intrusted the princess to his care. Soon they were ready to set
off—the mother, with her three children, in a carriage, the vizier on
horseback, and a battalion of soldiers as escort.
But the princess was to meet other sorrows. They had not journeyed far
when the vizier—who had not spoken a word—put his head in at the
carriage window and asked, “Will you marry me, or shall I kill the
children?”
The princess was amazed beyond the power of speaking.
Then the vizier said: “Yes; certainly you will marry me. We will not
return to the prince. I have suborned these soldiers. They will obey my
commands. I have gold. We can go into another country. There is no
reason why this should not be.”
But the princess refused. Then the vizier seized one of the children,
killed it, and threw it beside the road.
After some time he repeated his question, received the same answer,
and, notwithstanding the entreaties of the princess, took the second
child, and, later on, the third. The poor woman was in despair.
Then the vizier said to her, “Verily, I will kill you, too, unless you
will become my wife.”
“I pray you to give me half an hour’s grace in which to perform my
ablutions and say my prayers. There must be a spring by that tree
yonder.”
“Very well, it is granted,” said the vizier.
He ordered the carriage to halt, tied a rope around her waist—so that
she could not escape—and permitted her to go as she had requested.
The princess went to the spring, untied the rope, fastened it about the
tree, and fled around to the other side of the mountain.
After some time the vizier pulled the rope; but, as it did not yield,
he thought the princess was saying her prayers, and waited. After a
while he said to himself: “It has been more than a half hour. What an
interminable prayer she is saying! I will go and see about this.”
As he went over the little knoll, which had hid the princess from him,
he discovered that his prey had escaped. Wild with anger, he turned
about and made all haste to the palace, where he said to the prince:
“My lord, as we were resting by the way, Her Royal Highness, the
princess, took her sons and stole away from the carriage. Is it not
true, O, my prince! that no good thing can be expected from a wild
mountain girl? That which comes from the mountains will return to
them.”
When the prince received this news his mind took leave of his body and
he fell down in a faint. Upon recovering he went into mourning, as if
for the death of his wife and children.
Let these stay here while we inquire into the fate of the second-time
wanderer.
Again did she go on and on, from mountain to mountain, weeping bitterly
over the loss of her beloved children. She felt in her heart that a
return to her husband would be futile, because the cruel vizier would
have filled his mind with falsehoods. After long wandering she came
into her own country, where she disguised herself, and, entering the
market place, came upon a shop that was almost in ruins. It belonged to
an aged maker of sweets.
After greeting him courteously she asked, “Father, will you take me as
an apprentice lad?”
“Ai, my son!” was the sad answer, “look about you and see! I cannot
earn sufficient for myself. How can I give wages to another? Besides,
with my other woes, I have forgotten how to make the sweets!”
Then the young woman answered gently: “Father, I ask no wages from you.
If you will permit, I will work as best I can, and whatever Allah
kindly sends to us we will live upon together.”
When the aged vendor of sweets heard these pious words, his heart was
touched. “Surely this lad has felt affliction,” he said to himself.
Then unto her: “Very well, my son. Come with me, if thou wilt.”
The new apprentice kissed her master’s hand and entered the shop. After
a little, she rolled up her sleeves, went to the stove, and began to
make candy, as she had done when a little girl in her own home. This
labor brought such sad thoughts that it was with great difficulty she
could refrain from weeping aloud.
When the candy was finished she placed a portion before her master. He
tasted a bit and said, in surprise: “Ai, my son! these sweets are very
good. Peace be to your hands! May Allah keep you from further harm!”
After this commendation of her work, the apprentice washed off the
stone, which served as a counter for the display of the goods, and
arranged the sweets upon it. Customers who were passing, paused to note
the beauty of the candy-maker’s lad, and, although they had no thought
of buying, were impelled to do so. They found the sweets so delicious
that all who purchased once were sure to come again. In short, the fame
of the candy-maker’s apprentice and of the sweets which she compounded
was spread abroad, by those who traveled that way, until it reached all
lands.
Let her stay here, engaged in her new work, while we return to the
prince.
One day, while thinking of his wife and children, he began—as at other
times—to sigh; and the tears fell, like rain, from his eyes. Arousing
himself, he sent for his vizier, to whom he said: “My heart is breaking
for Her Highness, the princess. Surely I must find her or kill myself!”
The wicked vizier was alarmed at this and answered: “My prince, the
woman did not care for you. She left you and ran to the mountains. All
those tears for her mother were only a part of the plot to run away.
How, then, can you desire her?”
But, however much the vizier said—and he added much more—it made no
impression upon the intentions of his master; who commanded that
preparations should be made, with all speed, and that they should enter
upon the search without delay.
Accordingly they started toward the mountains. The vizier did not lead
the way past the spot where the princess escaped; but went on and on,
in order to save himself. Thus it was that they entered the country
from which the girl had fled, at first, when her father would have had
her killed.
Being very hungry, they asked a child if there were not some cook’s
shop in the neighborhood.
“No, my lords!” answered the child. “There is no cook’s shop near. But
a little farther on is a candy-maker, whose apprentice makes such
sweets that no one is able to equal them.”
“Let us go there!” commanded the prince; and, accordingly, they went on
until they reached the shop.
When the princess saw her husband and the vizier coming, she recognized
them at once; but, pulling her cap over her eyes, she hid herself from
them.
The prince addressed her: “Candy-maker, I pray you, give us a few
cents’ worth of sweets!”
To which the princess made answer: “My masters, if you will deign to
become our guests for the night, I will make you such a batch of sweets
as you have never tasted, and will tell you an amusing story besides.”
When the prince heard these kind words, from one in a strange land, he
was gratified and answered: “That will do very well. We will stay.”
Thereupon the prince and the vizier gave their horses to the groom,
entered the candy shop, and sat down.
Let them stay there while we come to the people in the town.
Now, it seems that the evening of this very day had been chosen by the
people, upon which to have a grand candy festival. They were wondering
who should make the necessary sweets, when some one suggested that they
try to persuade the candy-maker’s apprentice to put aside the regular
customers of the shop and work for them during that evening.
Accordingly, several of the men went to the shop and asked the
apprentice if she would go with them to their quarters and prepare
candy for the people, who had sent out invitations for a grand festival
that evening.
“I am your servants, gentlemen,” replied the apprentice, “but we have
guests this evening. It is not fitting that I should leave them.”
To which the men answered pleadingly: “O, master candy-maker, let us
persuade your guests to accompany you. There is room, over our heads,
for all.”
Whereupon the apprentice, turning to the guests, said: “My masters, we
are invited to a candy festival. If you like, we will go. These
gentlemen promise that you will be amused.”
The prince was pleased with anything that might lead him to forget his
grief for a little, and readily agreed to the proposal. The aged
candy-maker expressed willingness to look after the shop alone; and the
prince, the vizier, and the apprentice accompanied the men to the place
of the festival.
Upon reaching it, the prince and the vizier were conducted up the
stairs into the grand reception room; while the apprentice remained
below to attend to her duties.
When the sweets were finished she gave portions to all guests, who were
in the rooms leading from the garden, and then went up the stairs with
her brazier of coals and kettle of candy.
She had barely entered the great upper room when she discovered, not
only the prince and his vizier, but men from her native quarter of the
town assembled there; among them were her father, her brother, and the
priest who had wrought her so much evil.
She hid her consternation under assumed activity, placed the pot of
coals in the middle of the room, and busied herself with preparing the
candy. Presently she said:
“My masters, why do you sit silent? It was promised me that there would
be amusement here. Let everyone relate any anecdote that comes to him;
thus may you be enabled to find enjoyment and rid me of the
embarrassment of having so many eyes fixed upon my work.”
The restraint, which had been upon all the guests, was removed by this
hint from the apprentice. They immediately began to relate stories from
the outside world—everyone telling that which first occurred to his
memory. After they had amused themselves in this way for some time, one
of them cried out:
“Ai, you apprentice! Since you are the one who set us to talking, now,
yourself, tell us a story and let us listen!”
“My masters,” answered she, “I have one habit. Whenever I tell a story
I do not permit anyone to leave the room. So if anyone here wishes to
go without, let him do so before I begin.”
At this they all cried out that no one wished to leave. So the
apprentice sat down directly in front of the door and began.
First she related the story of the bath house, and all the while the
priest was listening. As he became assured that he was about to be
discovered, he made believe that he was ill and arose to go, crying
out:
“My head! O, my head!”
“Keep your seat, fellow!” commanded the narratress. At which all the
others said the same.
Then she told the story of the vizier to whom was intrusted a princess
and her three children. The prince, listening but not knowing that it
was the story of his own wife and children, felt his eyes grow full.
The people were all touched by the two stories; and when the teller
felt assured that they were aroused to the necessary pitch, she arose
and said:
“O, my people! Be it known that I am that twice-wronged one. My enemies
are this priest and this vizier. This is my father; this, my brother;
and this”—here she fell upon her knees before him—“O! this is my prince
and husband!”
When she had said this she went forward, and the prince covered her
with his mantle; while the rest of the company sat quiet, biting their
fingers to learn whether, indeed, they were waking.
When the prince could command himself, and the people had become
assured of the truth of these stories, they took the priest and the
vizier away and put them to death.
The princess kissed the hands of her father and brother, embraced her
mother, who, hearing of the matter, had come, trembling, to learn if it
were true; and, after a few days, returned to the palace with her
beloved, true prince.
They were married over again, with festivities which lasted forty days
and forty nights. They also had their hearts’ desire in the gift of
children, to take the place of those who had been lost. Salaam!
THE CRYSTAL KIOSK AND THE DIAMOND SHIP
The narrators of tales and the tellers of stories relate that, once
upon a time, there was a king whose children died, one after another.
His grief was so great at this that all the wise men and physicians of
the kingdom came together in council and inquired, most diligently, of
the nurse who had cared for each child in turn. After long debating
they decided that the air of the outer world had caused the death of
the little princes and princesses; and they solemnly advised the king
to build a great room deep within the earth, to have ready should Allah
graciously favor him with another child.
Accordingly the king commanded such a room to be prepared. All the four
sides were well guarded, and the top was nearly covered with an
astonishingly great window, to let in the sunlight and moonlight and
the rays of the little stars. And into this room was placed all manner
of beautiful toys and every precious thing that could add to a child’s
pleasure.
Not long afterward a dear little princess was born to the king and
queen; who, you may suppose, was no sooner born than she was hurried
down into the beautiful room which awaited her, and a nurse was
appointed to care for her.
The king and queen spent many happy hours in the room below the earth,
watching the growth of their little daughter, whose perfection of
beauty was without equal and cannot be described. Also, she was gentle
and patient, and had been taught, from the first, that although others
came to her she must not expect to go to them.
Finally, to the great delight of her royal parents and—you can well
imagine—of those who had advised this course, the child grew to be
healthful and strong, and reached the age of fourteen years without
once having left that underground abode.
But one day, when royal ceremonies detained her parents and the nurse
was long in coming, a feeling of sadness came upon her; which was so
strong that it impelled her to make a great pile of all the chairs and
tables in the place, upon which she climbed to the highest point in the
window.
Looking out thus she could see bits of trees and plants. She had heard
the dash and roar of waves. Feeling deeply interested in the little she
saw, and desiring to learn more of all that was above her own abode,
she struck a great pane of glass with the stick used in climbing and,
after the pieces fell down in a shower, put her head out through the
opening.
Upon one side of her stretched the great blue sea; and the sun, shining
upon it, made so brilliant a light that her unused eyes refused to look
long.
“Then there are two worlds,” she said, wonderingly, “an upper and a
lower. And although the lower is very sweet and comfortable, the upper
is magnificent and boundless! I wonder that those who come to me can
remain there, shut away from all this wonder!”
Long she remained there, drinking into her soul all the loveliness that
stretched all about her. When her body became wearied standing upon the
insecure pyramid, she climbed down slowly and went and sat down in her
accustomed place.
When the nurse entered she discovered that the topmost pane of the
window was broken. “Gracious Allah!” she cried in terror. “What has
fallen through the roof of your room, my princess? Had you been
underneath, it might have killed you.”
Thereupon the princess began to speak: “Calm yourself! Nothing has
fallen through my window; and, outwardly, I am unhurt. But my soul has
become loosened. It no longer will remain pent in this prison house.
Take me out of this place, or, verily, I shall kill myself with
longing.”
The nurse returned no answer. She turned and fled to the king, before
whom she stood and related, one by one, the words which his daughter
had spoken.
The king was thrown into great torment of mind at this news. Again he
summoned the doctors and learned men in council. They shook their heads
at the revelation which had come to the princess; but, after
questioning the nurse carefully and pondering long, they gave this
advice:
“O, king, let your daughter, our princess, be removed from her
underground abode. But let the removal be most gradual, so that her
eyes may become accustomed to the unobstructed light of nature. Also
let her walk, each day, a little farther upon the earth’s surface, and
then return to her accustomed dwelling place. With care and patience,
it is our belief that the princess will, ere long, be able to remain
the entire time upon, instead of under, the earth.”
Each day, after this welcome decision, her nurse led the young girl up
the staircase and into the rose garden, where everything delighted her
unaccustomed eyes.
“It is like entering paradise after death!” she exclaimed.
But, most of all, the sea enchanted her. Hour after hour, as the days
went by, she sat gazing upon its changing waters. The king, noticing
this, asked her one day:
“What is it, my daughter? That thou lovest the sea is plain. But there
is desire in thine eyes. What wouldst thou, my child?”
“O, my royal father!” she said, turning to him, “this sea is so
splendid that I am thinking of a place from which it would seem fitting
to view its waves.”
“Tell me the place you would have, my daughter, and I will set my
carpenters at work upon it to-morrow,” answered the king, who could
never cease delighting his eyes with sight of his child—dwelling, like
other children, upon the surface of the earth.
“Then, since thou wouldst grant my heart’s desire, O, my father! build
me a crystal kiosk beside this sea which stretches before us. All the
divans shall be of gold set with diamonds, and the chairs and tables
gilded. My heart so longs for this that, unless it be granted, I fear
that death will come with my longing for it.”
But the king became sad. He felt that evil was upon him. “Alas, my
girl!” he cried at first. “Still, let the kiosk be made, according to
your wish.”
Thereupon he summoned the workers in crystal, who set about building
the kiosk. At the end of a year, at exactly the hour of the day when
the command was given, the work was finished. Word was sent to the
king, who went to look at the completed structure and found it so
brilliant as to dazzle the eyes of all beholders. The wonder was that
his workmen had not become blind during the year. Only the colored
glasses, which they wore suspended before their eyes, had protected
them. All the country about was illumined with the brilliance of this
kiosk, which no tongue could describe.
When the king returned to the rose garden and sat down beside his
daughter, she knew, by his face and the manner in which he regarded
her, that her request of a year before was fulfilled. Kneeling before
him, she kissed his hand; whereupon he said to her:
“Your crystal kiosk is finished, my daughter. And since it is your wish
to leave the palace, choose a number of servants from among those most
faithful, and go, dwell there! And may peace and happiness attend all
your days therein!”
The princess knelt before her father again, kissed his hands three
times, then, rising, summoned her maidens, and, entering into the
kiosk, took up her abode. There, surrounded by these maidens, she
lived. And most of all, she loved their daily walks beside the sea.
Let these now stay here, happy day and night, while we turn away to
take notice of the outer world.
Every day people came—some in boats and some in litters—all to see the
wonderful kiosk. The fame of it reached far away—even into other lands.
So it came to pass that the son of the king of Yemen heard of it and
was astonished at the wonderful descriptions, which all who gave them
insisted were in no degree comparable with the real splendor.
All this wrought upon the young man’s mind until he went to the king
and said: “My revered and beloved father! the Sultan of Stamboul has
built a crystal kiosk beside the sea, which is so beautiful that it has
become one of the wonders of the world. May it be your high pleasure
that I should go and view this marvel, which has been accomplished by
man. It will not require great length of time. Within three or four
months I shall return.”
The king was pleased that his son felt a desire to know of the world,
and gave his consent to the plan. The prince, accompanied by a few of
his most intimate companions, went on board an outgoing ship and began
the journey.
Day and night, without stopping, went the ship. After a considerable
space of time, one morning, as the prince and his companions were
standing upon the deck of the vessel, a most wonderful vision appeared
upon the very edge of the horizon. So brilliant was it that the whole
earth seemed illumined with the light thereof.
Then the prince turned to his companions, saying, “Verily, this which
appears in the distance must be the object we seek.”
Several more days passed. The ship sailed nearer and nearer, and every
day the wonder grew. Finally, when they were but a little distance, and
after the captain had trimmed his vessel so as to view it from three
sides, the bewildered prince exclaimed: “Do I look upon a vision
unearthly, or am I dreaming a dream?”
When it became evening the ship let down her anchor.
We will leave the prince upon the deck of his vessel, while we return
to the princess within the kiosk.
She had noticed the approach of the ship and had marveled at its
strange maneuvers. Finally, when it came to anchor directly in front of
her dwelling, she set herself to examine it closely. But the name could
not be made out; and while she, with her maids, were lost in conjecture
as to whom it could belong, she saw the prince walking back and forth
upon the deck.
Now, the prince was a youth who resembled the full moon in beauty; and,
as this princess was unacquainted with young men, she became greatly
interested and felt a strange drawing of the heart toward him.
And the prince—as if feeling the gaze upon him—stopped in his walk and
looked directly at the kiosk, where he saw the princess standing in all
her beautiful garments, and with the light of the setting sun shining
full upon her. The sight was so unexpected and bewildering that he lost
consciousness and fell down in a swoon.
After a time he recovered and looked eagerly at the window which had so
entranced him. But the princess was not there.
“O, let me see her once again!” he exclaimed, and set himself to watch
for her coming.
His companions, seeing him quiet and meditative, did not approach; but
remained in another part of the ship. One, two hours went by, and the
stillness caused him to fall asleep.
By this time the princess again appeared at her window and, seeing him
thus, thought he must be ill, sighed “Alas!” and wept bitter tears.
The spirit of the wind caught one of her tears, carried it over to the
ship, and laid it upon the prince’s cheek, thus causing him to waken at
once.
When he looked across the water, saw the princess, and knew that she
was weeping for him, a pleasant joy wakened within his heart. But his
companions—seeing that he was awake—approached and said:
“O, prince! It is you who have caused tears to flow from the eyes of
this wonderful creature. Call out to her that we are going away, and,
if she loves you, we will see that she will do some marvelous thing.
Should she accept your going calmly, you may know that she is a siren,
whose business and pleasure it is to lure men to their destruction.”
After more words of this kind, the young men so wrought upon the mind
of their prince that, looking over to the window of the kiosk where
stood the princess, he cried:
“Here is the ship, O, princess! And yonder is Yemen!”
Then he commanded the captain; the ship was made ready to sail, and
soon started off in the direction of his home. After some time it
reached Yemen, and the king was rejoiced that his son had arrived
within the appointed time.
Let us return to the princess.
With her eyes streaming like fountains, she went to her father and
said: “O, my king and father! thou who hast granted all my requests
thus far, something more would I ask of your love.”
“It is granted thee, O, my child!” answered the king, sadly, for he
feared that a time of separation had come.
“Then let me ask for a ship that shall be studded with diamonds without
and whose inner rooms shall be set with precious stones—with rubies
gleaming in the pillars thereof. Forty white slaves, all very young,
handsome, and wearing gorgeous apparel, must care for it. If this
cannot be granted, I fear that my soul must leave the body!”
“Very well, my daughter,” replied the king. “Whose desire but thine
should thy father grant? Let the ship be made as you request.”
The princess knelt before him and kissed both of his hands three times.
Then the king summoned his ship carpenters and jewelers, who set at
work that very day.
In two years’ time the strange order was fulfilled. The ship, with its
before unheard of magnificence, was delivered to the king, who, in
turn, delivered it to his daughter.
“Ai, my father!” said she. “Since you have been so gracious, will you
grant that, with my maidens, I should go for a voyage? If Allah grant
his favor, my return shall not long be delayed.”
“Thou knowest, my daughter, that thou art the most precious possession
of my whole life. Although it grieves me greatly to part with thee, I
cannot refuse anything thou askest of me. But do not keep my eyes long
watching the restless roadways of the sea. And may Allah give you safe
guidance!”
The two then embraced and kissed each other upon the eyes. After which
the princess, taking with her forty white boy slaves and forty maidens,
with all the necessary furnishing, went aboard the diamond ship and
remained there that night.
When morning came the captain commanded a salute, ordered the flag
hoisted, and set sail in the glorious light; while all of the people
who crowded the shore exclaimed, “What a clever princess we have!” And
they sent a hundred thousand bravos after her.
When the ship was well under way, the princess herself assumed command.
The captain—who was a wise old seaman—obeyed her joyfully, and was
pleased when all the slaves and maidens of her suite were drilled like
soldiers.
At last they reached Yemen—for, as you may guess, that was their
destination—and entering the harbor they cast anchor and remained there
that night.
The director of the port was notified of their arrival. He went out
upon the quay to look at the ship. When the magnificent creation met
his eyes he exclaimed:
“I am lost in wonder! Whose royal ship is this? Never has one been seen
like it. May Allah protect it from the Evil Eye!”
Then he turned and hastened to the palace, where he informed the shah,
saying: “My padisha, yesterday a ship arrived in port, of such
magnificence that no tongue can describe it. Diamonds and precious
stones gleam in every part. Your majesty should gaze upon it—for,
indeed, it is fitted only to be seen by the eyes of royalty.”
Then the shah sent his vizier to learn what visitor had come to his
kingdom; and the vizier, nothing loath, entered a little boat and was
rowed directly to the diamond ship.
When the princess saw the boat approach, she caused the entire crew to
dress themselves in scarlet clothes, and, as the boat reached the
accommodation ladder, they drew up to meet the vizier and escorted him
to the captain’s cabin; where he sat down and began to talk very
politely.
“O, my lord bey,” said he, “the shah awaits my return. Your servant has
come to secure such information as may be granted. Will you deign to
give your honored name, that I may convey it to the king?”
“I am the son of a merchant,” answered the princess-captain. “I travel
according to my own pleasure, going only where fancy leads.”
After further words, the vizier returned to his king and said: “My
padisha, this marvelous ship is a merchant’s vessel, and its captain is
so young that he has neither beard nor mustache. He is a youth who is
like unto the fourteenth of the moon for beauty; and his crew is in
keeping with himself. Everything is perfect. Surely your Royal Highness
should visit it.”
This suggestion found favor in the mind of the king and wakened his
desire to see the ship. Accordingly he got into a boat, which was rowed
by seven pairs of oarsmen, and, together with the queen, started for
the vessel.
When the girl-captain saw them coming, she ordered the crew to dress
all in yellow, and, as the royal party reached the ship’s ladder, it
was met with great honor and conducted to the captain’s stateroom.
Coffee was served, and the captain conversed so agreeably with the king
that he was lost in admiration.
Finally, after remaining as long as court etiquette would allow, they
returned to the palace, where the report of the visit was related to
the prince, with such admiring exclamations that desire seized him to
view this wonder with the rest. He hastened to the wharf, stepped into
a small boat, and was rowed directly to the ship.
When the princess-captain saw him coming she ordered her crew to dress
themselves all in green; which they did, and received their visitor
with great honor. They conducted him to the captain’s stateroom, where
he began conversing with the unknown princess.
In spite of his delicate and skillful questioning she did not betray
herself; and the prince felt the same warmth at his heart which had
affected him at sight of the maiden in the window of the crystal kiosk.
He remained until evening before he could tear himself away.
Let us return to the princess.
Word was sent to the director of the port, and arrangements were made
to anchor her ship within the inner harbor. After that, the princess,
with her attendants and belongings, went ashore and hired the finest
house that could be found. It was situated directly in front of the
king’s palace. Here she took up her abode.
Let us return to the prince.
The next day, upon going to the place where he first had seen the ship,
upon the day before, he could find no trace of it, and beat his head
upon the ground in disappointment.
Then he went to his tutor to learn if anything were known about the
matter. The tutor’s answer was one which gladdened the young man’s
heart. He returned to the palace and sat down at a window, to look at
the house across the way, if, haply, he might catch sight of the one
who had so entranced him.
Presently the princess appeared at her window; when his mind fell into
a pitiable state. “A young woman!” he said to himself. “Who can she be?
She is so like him as to be some relative of the young captain who so
enchanted me. And both are like that wonderful vision of two years
ago.”
As he continued to look at her, standing there with the curls floating
down upon either side of her face, he felt that it would be impossible
to find her like in the world.
When the princess discovered the prince looking at her, she drew back
hastily and the window was closed. But the poor young man—whose
yielding to companions had caused his undoing before—had fallen more
deeply in love this time. He determined not to be thwarted, and went to
all sides of the house, grieving miserably at his inability to find her
again. Finally, when night came on, he withdrew into his own room,
where he became lost in meditation.
At the dawn of morning he hastened out to the kiosk, to look again at
the other house; but, though he waited long, he was filled with grief
to see that the windows continued shut. Unable to bear the suspense
longer, he went to his mother, kissed her hand, and said:
“O, my queen mother! You have long wished me to marry; but I have been
unwilling. Now, in the house across the way, in the family of this
young captain, there is one with whom I am deeply in love. Take her
this jewel box, I pray. Give it into her hands and beg that I may see
her again. If this be not brought to pass, life will become of no worth
to me.”
Very much against her will, but because she was a fond mother, the
queen, accompanied by a minister of state, sought admittance at the
house of the strangers and was admitted, with due reverence, by the
princess herself, to whom the jewel box was presented.
The unknown princess accepted it courteously, then summoned the maidens
from the kitchen and, without showing the slightest interest in the
contents, gave it to them.
The queen could hardly smother her indignation and surprise, as she
announced: “The prince, my dear young lady, sends you his very special
greeting and is very desirous of meeting you. What answer shall be
returned to His Royal Highness?”
The princess seemed lost in such deep thought as to be unconscious of
any presence; and did not recover herself, although the queen addressed
her twice.
After sitting some time the royal visitors returned to the palace,
where the queen said to the prince, in great anger: “My son, I gave the
box of jewels to the ridiculous young person in question; and, while
she was courteous in receiving it from me, it was given at once to her
kitchen servants. After that, no matter how I addressed her, there was
no answer vouchsafed. She seemed unconscious, absolutely, of my
presence. I was obliged to return without an answer for you. My son,
you are no longer a child. Henceforth you must attend to your own heart
troubles.”
The prince retired to his own room and grieved all that day. The next
morning he approached his mother again and, after kissing her hand
three times, said: “O, my most revered queen mother! You hold my fate
in your hands. You are a woman. Can you not find some way to the heart
of this other woman for me?”
It was her only son who pleaded before the queen; and she, loving him
greatly, turned the matter over in her mind, until thoughts of a very
valuable string of pearls—which were her own private property—came to
her.
“I will give her the pearls,” she said to the prince. “We will see what
she will do with them.”
The grateful young man kissed both of his mother’s hands; after which
she laid the pearls out beautifully in their casket, called her
minister of state, and again went to the house across the way.
As upon the previous occasion, she was received with grave courtesy by
the young princess; to whom she delivered the pearls, along with a more
pressing message from the prince.
The young woman received the casket most graciously, opened it, turned
to her pet parrot—which hung in a cage near at hand—held before it the
box in which the beautiful pearls were lying, and waited, silently,
while the bird ate every one of them; grinding each, with a crackling
sound, in his bill and swallowing it as if priceless pearls made his
regular morning repast.
In open-mouthed astonishment the queen looked on; then, without having
the ability to utter a word, she arose, swept from the room, and, with
her minister of state, returned to the palace, from which the prince
came running to meet her, saying:
“Ai, mother, most honored and beloved! Hasten! Tell me what thou hast
to tell this time!”
“Ai, my son! Conquer this foolish madness, or no one is wise enough to
foretell what will become of us. When I gave the matchless pearls—my
most precious possession—into the hands of this mad creature, she
received them courteously, but immediately fed them—as if they had been
so many kernels of wheat—to her parrot, who swung in a cage near at
hand. I could not speak for rage!”
But the prince cared for the maiden. Pearls were of no account to one
in his frame of mind. “Calm yourself, mother dear and honored!” he
said. “It was but an evidence of girlish waywardness. It proves how
unworldly is this maiden. Do not be offended, I beseech you! Remember!
I am your son!”
All that night he lay, or walked the room, sleepless, and when morning
came went to the queen in a most humble and beseeching manner.
“Reverend and, indeed, beloved mother! I have here a most holy book. If
you will deign to comfort my heart by taking this to the maiden, I
trust that its sacredness will insure more reasonable action from her.”
Truth to say, the womanish curiosity of the queen was aroused. Without
at all suspecting it of herself, she had become interested in this very
surprising young person, and, consequently, persuaded herself to set
off again, with her minister of state, to the house of their neighbor
across the way.
At this visit the young princess, herself, came down the stairs to
greet and escort the royal visitor into her drawing room. This
surprised and gratified the queen, who, straightway, put her hand into
her bosom and drew forth the Holy Book. It was received with reverence,
kissed three times, and laid carefully away.
At this the queen was emboldened to press the suit of her son. “O, my
dear young maiden!” she said, “since seeing you, my son, the prince,
neither sleeps by night nor rests by day, for thinking upon you. If he
continues to be affected in this way, his days are numbered. Whatever
happens, his fate rests with you. Will you kindly show your face to him
once more and permit a little joy to come into his soul?”
When she had spoken thus the one addressed answered: “For no ordinary
matter will I permit myself to be looked upon by the prince.”
“Ai, my child!” urged the queen, “order whatever pleases you. If it be
possible, it shall be accomplished.”
“Verily,” was the reply, after long and slow thought, “let the prince
have a golden bridge builded, with roses planted upon either side. Let
him provide a seat at the farther end, in which, if he await me, I will
come to him there.”
“Very well, my daughter, I will report your decision,” answered the
queen. Then she returned, and, upon meeting her son, said to him:
“Of a truth, the sphinx has broken silence. But her demands are most
extraordinary. If you would see her, you are to build a golden bridge,
plant roses upon either side, prepare a seat for yourself at the
farther end, from which, if you will await her there, she will permit
you to gaze upon her. Now it is for you to say, my son, whether this
extravagant request of one who came to our shores in a ship incrusted
with diamonds shall be granted. There’s no divining her next demand.”
But the prince was blinded by love and saw nothing impossible which
would bring the object of his affection nearer. He caused the bridge to
be builded—as she had desired—the borders of roses planted, and a seat
prepared at the farther end. Then, after sending respectful assurance
that all was according to her requirement, he hastened to the place of
waiting.
Thereupon the princess caused herself to be arrayed beautifully and,
accompanied by her maidens, went to the bridge. But, in some way, as
she was crossing it, a branch from one of the rosebushes was blown out
by the wind and pricked her in the face. Upon that she complained of
being hurt, turned, and went back to her home.
Now, the prince had been waiting, in great eagerness, to see her, and
was heartstricken when she turned back. Returning to his mother, he
exclaimed:
“Everything was done according to her command; but, alas! she went away
before I could fix my eyes upon her face. I need not put into words
that which my mother can read upon my heart.”
Thereupon the queen became indignant and hastened, of her own will, to
the house of their neighbor, where, after she had been greeted, she
asked why, with one half of the agreement fulfilled, a prince should be
made to wait in vain for a simple glance at a maiden’s face.
“Ai, queen mother! I cannot go where thorns are placed to prevent my
passing. I release all claim to the bridge as well as to the prince.
Henceforth he need not vex his soul concerning me.”
“Ai, my girl!” exclaimed the distressed queen, “why will you put us so
to shame? There must be some reason for these ruses. Be gracious!
Unburden yourself to me.”
Then came this answer: “Verily, queen mother, since you seem to believe
the matter unintentional, I will speak the truth with you. Make a
golden bridge. Upon one side of it place golden and upon the other
silver candlesticks. Then let the prince die and be buried in a tomb at
one end of the bridge. Afterward I will stand beside his head and his
eyes may fix themselves upon me.”
Then the queen arose and hastened away in great anger.
“My son,” cried she, “the maiden, because of whom we are so put about,
went home because a thorn pricked her cheek!”
“Alas, that it should have hurt her sweet face!” sighed the prince.
Then, arousing himself, “But what are we to do now?” he asked.
“The final answer of this young vixen is this, my son—ah, woe is me
that the diamond ship visited our shores!—you are to build a golden
bridge, as before, and place golden and silver candlesticks upon either
side.”
“That is not difficult,” interrupted the prince.
“Wait! After that—what think you? My son, you, the prince, are to die
and lie in a tomb at one end of the bridge; after which she will deign
to come and stand at your head! O, my son! my son! Cease this madness!
Let me prevail upon you.”
But the prince became jubilant. He kissed both of his mother’s hands
three times, crying: “So she will come and stand beside me! Have
patience, my honored mother! All will be well. I will pretend that
grief for her has broken my heart unto death. For her coming one can
wait—even in a tomb!”
“Verily,” answered the queen, “you are the prince. You will have your
way. We shall see what will result from all this.”
The next day gold and silver candlesticks replaced the rosebushes along
the bridge’s sides. A tomb was built, and the prince, arrayed as for
burial, was borne upon a litter and laid therein.
Let us return to the princess.
That night she asked permission from the director of the port, who
granted it, that her ship be taken from its moorings in the harbor. All
that had been carried from it into the house was returned thereto.
Then, with her attendants, she went upon board and sailed near to the
tomb in which the prince was lying. The ship ceased plying for a
little, and, when all was still, the princess stood at the bow and
called out:
“Ai, my prince! Here is the ship, and yonder is Stamboul!”
Then all sail was hoisted, and the ship sped away.
The prince, who was listening for a light footfall, heard the words of
the princess-captain. He arose hastily and stood up, in his burial
clothes, to see the ship sailing away. When he felt assured that it was
making off, he sank down in deep despair.
Arousing himself at last, he was borne to his mother; and when she
began to pour forth her indignation he prevented her, saying: “Alas!
alas! Now am I enlightened! The fault is my own. I have been loving the
same maiden all of the time. You have known, my mother, how I was
induced to leave the weeping princess in the crystal kiosk? This is
that one, come to avenge herself. Because of my former love, this
latter has been intensified. Now do I understand why it has so swept
away my reason.”
The enlightened prince went to his father, kissed his hand, and asked:
“O, king! my most honored father, once more wilt thou grant permission
that I go abroad?”
“Most willingly, my son. Only, I pray thee, have a care for thy most
precious life! Go, and may happiness attend thee!”
Then the young man returned to the queen and said: “The way has been
made plain before me, O, my honored mother! It removes me from the
favor of thy presence for a little. Give me thy blessing, I pray!”
The queen kissed both of his eyes, gave him her blessing, and he went,
at once, to set sail upon a ship that belonged to the fleet of his
father, the king. It is needless to state that its course was directed
toward the crystal kiosk. Arriving there, he dressed himself in
princely apparel, alighted, and went directly to the radiant dwelling
of the maiden.
Now, the princess had seen the approach of his ship, and, when it drew
near, she recognized the prince. With her maidens she met him at the
outer door of the kiosk and escorted him up the stairs.
When they had entered, he stood before her and asked: “Ai, adored
princess! was it not grievous of thee to make me do all those useless
things?”
“Ai, my prince,” answered she, “was it not grievous in thee to come in
thy ship, to make me love thee, and then to sail away with those cruel
words? How does that matter stand before Allah? Was it just?”
“O, my beloved one! guilty, indeed, is he who seeks thee. But I have
suffered a hundredfold for all my fault toward thee. Is thy heart
stone? Canst thou not forgive? See, I am kneeling before thee!”
Then they embraced each other and were very happy.
Afterward the princess led her lover to the king, her father, and
related all that had passed. When the king had conversed with the
prince and found him to be just, honorable, and very greatly in love
with his daughter, his heart became glad. He thanked Allah that all had
turned out so happily.
The next day they were married, and the wedding was celebrated during
forty days and forty nights. Afterward the young couple spent one half
of each year at Yemen and the other half at Stamboul, to the great
delight of both kings. Thus two kingdoms were united and all became
peaceful. Salaam!
THE END