Muezin, a vain, haughty, and envious person: he hated the rich,
only because he was poor, his misery making him angry at his
neighbour's prosperity. He heard talk of Zeyn Alasnam, and of
the plenty his house afforded. This was enough for him to take
an aversion to that prince; and it proceeded so far, that one day
after the evening prayer in the mosque, he said to the people,
"Brethren, I have been told there is come to live in our ward a
stranger, who every day gives away immense sums. How do we know
but that this unknown person is some villain, who has committed a
robbery in his own country, and comes hither to enjoy himself?
Let us take care, brethren; if the caliph should be informed that
such a man is in our ward, it is to be feared he will punish us
for not acquainting him with it. I declare for my part I wash my
hands of the affair, and if any thing should happen amiss, it
shall not lie at my door." The multitude, who are easily led
away, with one voice cried to Boubekir, "It is your business, do
you acquaint the council with it." The muezin went home well
pleased, and drew up a memorial, resolving to present it to the
caliph next day.
But Mobarec, who had been at prayers, and heard all that was said
by the muezin, put five hundred pieces of gold into a
handkerchief, made up with a parcel of several silks, and went to
Boubekir's house. The muezin asked him in a harsh tone what he
wanted. "Holy father," answered Mobarec with an obliging air,
and at the same time putting into his hand the gold and the silk,
"I am your neighbour and your servant: I come from prince Zeyn,
who lives in this ward: he has heard of your worth, and has
ordered me to come and tell you, that he desires to be acquainted
with you, and in the mean time desires you to accept of this
small present." Boubekir was transported with joy, and answered
Mobarec thus: "Be pleased, sir, to beg the prince's pardon for
me: I am ashamed I have not yet been to see him, but I will atone
for my fault, and wait on him to-morrow."
Accordingly the next day after morning prayer he said to the
people, "You must know from your own experience, brethren, that
no man is without some enemies: envy pursues those chiefly who
are very rich. The stranger I spoke to you about yesterday in
the evening is no bad man, as some ill-designing persons would
have persuaded me: he is a young prince, endowed with every
virtue. It behoves us to take care how we give any injurious
report of him to the caliph."
Boubekir having thus wiped off the impression he had the day
before given the people concerning Zeyn, returned home, put on
his best apparel and went to visit the young prince, who gave him
a courteous reception. After several compliments had passed on
both sides, Boubekir said to the prince, "Sir, do you design to
stay long at Bagdad?" "I shall stay," answered Zeyn, "till I can
find a maid fifteen years of age, perfectly beautiful, and so
chaste, that she has not only never loved a man, but even never
desired to do so." "You seek after a great rarity," replied the
muezin; "and I should be apt to fear your search would prove
unsuccessful, did I not know where there is a maid of that
character. Her father was formerly vizier; but has left the
court, and lived a long time in a lone house, where he applies
himself solely to the education of his daughter. If you please,
I will ask her of him for you: I do not question but he will be
overjoyed to have a son-in-law of your quality." "Not so fast,"
said the prince, "I shall not marry the maid before I know
whether I like her. As for her beauty, I can depend on you; but
what assurance can you give me in relation to her virtue?" "What
assurance do you require?" said Boubekir. "I must see her face,"
answered Zeyn; "that is enough to determine my resolution." "You
are skilled then in physiognomy?" replied the muezin, smiling.
"Well, come along with me to her father's: I will desire him to
let you see her one moment in his presence."
The muezin conducted the prince to the vizier's; who, as soon as
he was acquainted with the prince's birth and design, called his
daughter, and made her take off her veil. Never had the young
sultan of Bussorah beheld such a perfect and striking beauty. He
stood amazed; and since he could then try whether the maid was as
chaste as fair, he pulled out his glass, which remained bright
and unsullied.
When he perceived he had at length found such a person as he
desired, he entreated the vizier to grant her to him.
Immediately the cauzee was sent for, the contract signed, and the
marriage prayer said. After this ceremony, Zeyn conducted the
vizier to his house, where he treated him magnificently, and gave
him considerable presents. Next day he sent a prodigious
quantity of jewels by Mobarec, who conducted the bride home,
where the wedding was kept with all the pomp that became Zeyn's
quality. When all the company was dismissed Mobarec said to his
master, "Let us begone, sir, let us not stay any longer at
Bagdad, but return to Cairo: remember the promise you made the
sultan of the genii." "Let us go," answered the prince; "I must
take care to perform it exactly; yet I must confess, my dear
Mobarec, that, if I obey the sultan of the genii, it is not
without reluctance. The damsel I have married is so charming,
that I am tempted to carry her to Bussorah, and place her on the
throne." "Alas! sir," answered Mobarec, "take heed how you give
way to your inclination: make yourself master of your passions,
and whatever it costs you, be as good as your word to the sultan
of the genii." "Well, then, Mobarec," said the prince, "do you
take care to conceal the lovely maid from me; let her never
appear in my sight; perhaps I have already seen too much of her."
Mobarec made all ready for their departure; they returned to
Cairo, and thence set out for the island of the sultan of the
genii. When they were arrived, the maid who had performed the
journey in a horse-litter, and whom the prince had never seen
since his wedding-day, said to Mobarec, "Where are we? Shall we
be soon in the dominions of the prince my husband?" "Madam,"
answered Mobarec, "it is time to undeceive you. Prince Zeyn
married you only in order to get you from your father: he did not
engage his faith to make you sovereign of Bussorah, but to
deliver you to the sultan of the genii, who has asked of him a
virgin of your character." At these words, she began to weep
bitterly, which moved the prince and Mobarec. "Take pity on me,"
said she; "I am a stranger, you will be accountable to God for
your treachery towards me."
Her tears and complaints were of no effect, for she was presented
to the sultan of the genii, who having gazed on her with
attention, said to Zeyn, "Prince, I am satisfied with your
behaviour; the virgin you have brought me is beautiful and
chaste, and I am pleased with the restraint you have put upon
yourself to be as good as your promise to me. Return to your
dominions, and when you shall enter the subterraneous room, where
the eight statues are, you shall find the ninth which I promised
you. I will make my genii carry it thither." Zeyn thanked the
sultan, and returned to Cairo with Mobarec, but did not stay long
in Egypt, for his impatience to see the ninth statue made him
hasten his departure. However, he could not but often think
regretfully of the young virgin he had married; and blaming
himself for having deceived her, he looked upon himself as the
cause and instrument of her misfortune. "Alas!" said he to
himself, "I have taken her from a tender father, to sacrifice her
to a genie. O incomparable beauty! you deserve a better fate."
Sultan Zeyn, disturbed with these thoughts, at length reached
Bussorah, where his subjects made extraordinary rejoicings for
his return. He went directly to give an account of his journey
to his mother, who was in a rapture to hear that he had obtained
the ninth statue. "Let us go, my son," said she, "let us go and
see it, for it is certainly in the subterraneous chamber, since
the sultan of the genii told you you should find it there." The
young sultan and his mother, being both impatient to see the
wonderful statue, went down into the room of the statues; but how
great was their surprise, when, instead of a statue of diamonds,
they beheld on the ninth pedestal a most beautiful virgin, whom
the prince knew to be the same whom he had conducted into the
island of the genii! "Prince," said the young maid, "you are
surprised to see me here; you expected to have found something
more precious than me, and I question not but that you now repent
having taken so much trouble: you expected a better reward."
"Madam," answered Zeyn, "heaven is my witness, that I more than
once had nearly broken my word with the sultan of the genii, to
keep you to myself. Whatever be the value of a diamond statue, is
it worth the satisfaction of having you mine? I love you above
all the diamonds and wealth in the world."
Just as he had done speaking, a clap of thunder was heard, which
shook the subterranean place. Zeyn's mother was alarmed, but the
sultan of the genii immediately appearing, dispelled her fear.
"Madam," said he to her, "I protect and love your son: I had a
mind to try, whether, at his age, he could subdue his passions.
I know the charms of this young lady have wrought on him, and
that he did not punctually keep the promise he had made me, not
to desire her; but I am well acquainted with the frailty of human
nature. This is the ninth statue I designed for him; it is more
rare and precious than the others. "Live," said he (directing
his discourse to the young prince), "live happy, Zeyn, with this
young lady, who is your wife; and if you would have her true and
constant to you, love her always, and love her only. Give her no
rival, and I will answer for her fidelity." Having spoken these
words, the sultan of the genii vanished, and Zeyn, enchanted with
the young lady, the same day caused her to be proclaimed queen of
Bussorah, over which they reigned in mutual happiness to an
advanced age.
THE HISTORY OF CODADAD, AND HIS BROTHERS.
Those who have written the history of Diarbekir inform us that
there formerly reigned in the city of Harran a most magnificent
and potent sultan, who loved his subjects, and was equally
beloved by them. He was endued with all virtues, and wanted
nothing to complete his happiness but an heir. Though he had the
finest women in the world in his seraglio, yet was he destitute
of children. He continually prayed to heaven for them; and one
night in his sleep, a comely person, or rather a prophet,
appeared to him, and said, "Your prayers are heard; you have
obtained what you have desired; rise as soon as you awake, go to
your prayers, and make two genuflexions, then walk into the
garden of your palace, call your gardener, and bid him bring you
a pomegranate, eat as many of the seeds as you please, and your
wishes shall be accomplished."
The sultan calling to mind his dream when he awoke, returned
thanks to heaven, got up, prayed, made two genuflexions, and then
went into his garden, where he took fifty pomegranate seeds,
which he counted, and ate. He had fifty wives who shared his
bed; they all proved with child; but there was one called
Pirouzè, who did not appear to be pregnant. He took an aversion
to this lady, and would have her put to death. "Her barrenness,"
said he, "is a certain token that heaven does not judge Pirouzè
worthy to bear a prince; it is my duty to deliver the world from
an object that is odious to the Lord." He would have executed
his cruel purpose had not his vizier prevented him; representing
to him that all women were not of the same constitution, and that
it was not impossible but that Pirouzè might be with child,
though it did not yet appear. "Well," answered the sultan, "let
her live; but let her depart my court; for I cannot endure her."
"Your majesty," replied the vizier, "may send her to sultan
Samer, your cousin." The sultan approved of this advice; he sent
Pirouzè to Samaria, with a letter, in which he ordered his cousin
to treat her well, and, in case she proved with child, to give
him notice of her being brought to bed.
No sooner was Pirouzè arrived in that country, than it appeared
that she was pregnant, and at length she was delivered of a most
beautiful prince. The prince of Samaria wrote immediately to the
sultan of Harran, to acquaint him with the birth of a son, and to
congratulate him on the occasion. The sultan was much rejoiced
at this intelligence, and answered prince Samer as follows:
"Cousin, all my other wives have each been delivered of a prince.
I desire you to educate that of Pirouzè, to give him the name of
Codadad, and to send him to me when I may apply for him."
The prince of Samaria spared nothing that might improve the
education of his nephew. He taught him to ride, draw the bow,
and all other accomplishments becoming the son of a sovereign; so
that Codadad, at eighteen years of age, was looked upon as a
prodigy. The young prince, being inspired with a courage worthy
of his birth, said one day to his mother, "Madam, I begin to grow
weary of Samaria; I feel a passion for glory; give me leave to
seek it amidst the perils of war. My father, the sultan of
Harran, has many enemies. Why does he not call me to his
assistance? Why does he leave me here so long in obscurity?
Must I spend my life in sloth, when all my brothers have the
happiness to be fighting by his side?" "My son," answered
Pirouzè, "I am no less impatient to have your name become famous;
I could wish you had already signalized yourself against your
father's enemies; but we must wait till he requires it." "No,
madam," replied Codadad, "I have already waited but too long. I
burn to see the sultan, and am tempted to offer him my service,
as a young stranger: no doubt but he will accept of it, and I
will not discover myself, till I have performed some glorious
actions: I desire to merit his esteem before he knows who I am."
Pirouzè approved of his generous resolutions, and Codadad
departed from Samaria, as if he had been going to the chase,
without acquainting prince Samer, lest he should thwart his
design.
He was mounted on a white charger, who had a bit and shoes of
gold, his housing was of blue satin embroidered with pearls; the
hilt of his scimitar was of one single diamond, and the scabbard
of sandal-wood, adorned with emeralds and rubies, and on his
shoulder he carried his bow and quiver. In this equipage, which
greatly set off his handsome person, he arrived at the city of
Harran, and soon found means to offer his service to the sultan;
who being charmed with his beauty and promising appearance, and
perhaps indeed by natural sympathy, gave him a favourable
reception, and asked his name and quality. "Sir," answered
Codadad, "I am son to an emir of Grand Cairo; an inclination to
travel has made me quit my country, and understanding, in my
passage through your dominions, that you were engaged in war, I
am come to your court to offer your majesty my service." The
sultan shewed him extraordinary kindness, and gave him a command
in his army.
The young prince soon signalized his bravery. He gained the
esteem of the officers, and was admired by the soldiers. Having
no less wit than courage, he so far advanced himself in the
sultan's esteem, as to become his favourite. All the ministers
and other courtiers daily resorted to Codadad, and were so eager
to purchase his friendship, that they neglected the sultan's
sons. The princes could not but resent this conduct, and
imputing it to the stranger, all conceived an implacable hatred
against him; but the sultan's affection daily increasing, he was
never weary of giving him fresh testimonies of his regard. He
always would have him near his person; admired his conversation,
ever full of wit and discretion; and to shew his high opinion of
his wisdom and prudence, committed to his care the other princes,
though he was of the same age as they; so that Codadad was made
governor of his brothers.
This only served to heighten their hatred. "Is it come to this,"
said they, "that the sultan, not satisfied with loving a stranger
more than us, will have him to be our governor, and not allow us
to act without his leave? this is not to be endured. We must rid
ourselves of this foreigner." "Let us go together," said one of
them, "and dispatch him." "No, no," answered another; "we had
better be cautious how we sacrifice ourselves. His death would
render us odious to the sultan, who in return would declare us
all unworthy to reign. Let us destroy him by some stratagem. We
will ask his permission to hunt, and when at a distance from the
palace, proceed to some other city, and stay there some time.
The sultan will wonder at our absence, and perceiving we do not
return, perhaps put the stranger to death, or at least will
banish him from court, for suffering us to leave the palace."
All the princes applauded this artifice. They went together to
Codadad, and desired him to allow them to take the diversion of
hunting, promising to return the same day. Pirouzè's son was
taken in the snare, and granted the permission his brothers
desired. They set out, but never returned. They had been three
days absent, when the sultan asked Codadad where the princes
were, for it was long since he had seen them. "Sir," answered
Codadad, after making a profound reverence, "they have been
hunting these three days, but they promised me they would return
sooner." The sultan grew uneasy, and his uneasiness increased
when he perceived the princes did not return the next day. He
could not check his anger: "Indiscreet stranger," said he to
Codadad, "why did you let my sons go without bearing them
company? Is it thus you discharge the trust I have reposed in
you? Go, seek them immediately, and bring them to me, or your
life shall be forfeited."
These words chilled with alarm Pirouzè's unfortunate son. He
armed himself, departed from the city, and like a shepherd, who
had lost his flock, searched the country for his brothers,
inquiring at every village whether they had been seen: but
hearing no news of them, abandoned himself to the most lively
grief. "Alas! my brothers," said he, "what is become of you?
Are you fallen into the hands of our enemies? Am I come to the
court of Harran to be the occasion of giving the sultan so much
anxiety?" He was inconsolable for having given the princes
permission to hunt, or for not having borne them company.
After some days spent in fruitless search, he came to a plain of
prodigious extent, in the midst whereof was a palace built of
black marble. He drew near, and at one of the windows beheld a
most beautiful lady; but set off with no other ornament than her
own charms; for her hair was dishevelled, her garments torn, and
on her countenance appeared all the marks of the greatest
affliction. As soon as she saw Codadad, and judged he might hear
her, she directed her discourse to him, saying, "Young man,
depart from this fatal place, or you will soon fall into the
hands of the monster that inhabits it: a black, who feeds only on
human blood, resides in this palace; he seizes all persons whom
their ill-fate conducts to this plain, and shuts them up in his
dark dungeons, whence they are never released, but to be devoured
by him."
"Madam," answered Codadad, "tell me who you are, and be not
concerned for myself." "I am a young woman of quality of Grand
Cairo," replied the lady; "I was passing by this castle
yesterday, in my way to Bagdad, and met with the black, who
killed all my attendants, and brought me hither; I wish I had
nothing but death to fear, but to add to my calamity, this
monster would persuade me to love him, and, in case I do not
yield to-morrow to his brutality, I must expect the last
violence. Once more," added she, "make your escape: the black
will soon return; he is gone out to pursue some travellers he
espied at a distance on the plain. Lose no time; I know not
whether you can escape him by a speedy flight."
She had scarcely done speaking before the black appeared. He was
of monstrous bulk, and of a dreadful aspect, mounted on a large
Tartar horse, and bore such a heavy scimitar, that none but
himself could wield. The prince seeing him, was amazed at his
gigantic stature, directed his prayers to heaven to assist him,
then drew his scimitar, and firmly awaited his approach. The
monster, despising so inconsiderable an enemy, called to him to
submit without fighting. Codadad by his conduct shewed that he
was resolved to defend his life; for rushing upon him, he wounded
him on the knee. The black, feeling himself wounded, uttered
such a dreadful yell as made all the plain resound. He grew
furious and foamed with rage, and raising himself on his
stirrups, made at Codadad with his dreadful scimitar. The blow
was so violent, that it would have put an end to the young
prince, had not he avoided it by a sudden spring. The scimitar
made a horrible hissing in the air: but, before the black could
have time to make a second blow, Codadad struck him on his right
arm, with such force, that he cut it off. The dreadful scimitar
fell with the hand that held it, and the black yielding under the
violence of the stroke, lost his stirrups, and made the earth
shake with the weight of his fall. The prince alighted at the
same time, and cut off his enemy's head. Just then, the lady,
who had been a spectator of the combat, and was still offering up
her earnest prayers to heaven for the young hero, whom she
admired, uttered a shriek of joy, and said to Codadad, "Prince
(for the dangerous victory you have obtained, as well as your
noble air, convinces me that you are of no common rank), finish
the work you have begun; the black has the keys of this castle,
take them and deliver me out of prison." The prince searched the
wretch as he lay stretched on the ground, and found several keys.
He opened the first door, and entered a court, where he saw the
lady coming to meet him; she would have cast herself at his feet,
the better to express her gratitude, but he would not permit her.
She commended his valour, and extolled him above all the heroes
in the world. He returned her compliments; and she appeared
still more lovely to him near, than she had done at a distance.
I know not whether she felt more joy at being delivered from the
desperate danger she had been in, than he for having done so
considerable a service to so beautiful a person.
Their conversation was interrupted by dismal cries and groans.
"What do I hear?" said Codadad: "Whence come these miserable
lamentations, which pierce my ears?" "My lord," said the lady to
him, pointing to a little door in the court, "they come from
thence. There are I know not how many wretched persons whom fate
has thrown into the hands of the black. They are all chained,
and the monster drew out one every day to devour."
"It is an addition to my joy," answered the young prince, "to
understand that my victory will save the lives of those
unfortunate beings. Come along with me, madam, to partake in the
satisfaction of giving them their liberty. You may judge by your
own feelings how welcome we shall be to them." Having so said,
they advanced towards the door of the dungeon, and the nearer
they drew, the more distinctly they heard the lamentations of the
prisoners. Codadad pitying them, and impatient to put an end to
their sufferings, presently put one of the keys into the lock.
The noise made all the unfortunate captives, who concluded it was
the black coming, according to custom, to seize one of them to
devour, redouble their cries and groans. Lamentable voices were
heard, which seemed to come from the centre of the earth.
In the mean time, the prince had opened the door; he went down a
very steep staircase into a large and deep vault, which received
some feeble light from a little window, and in which there were
above a hundred persons, bound to stakes, and their hands tied.
"Unfortunate travellers," said he to them, "wretched victims,
who only expected the moment of an approaching cruel death, give
thanks to heaven, which has this day delivered you by my means.
I have slain the black by whom you were to be devoured, and am
come to knock off your chains." The prisoners hearing these
words, gave a shout of mingled joy and surprise. Codadad and the
lady began to unbind them; and as soon as any of them were loose,
they helped to take off the fetters from the rest; so that in a
short time they were all at liberty.
They then kneeled down, and having returned thanks to Codadad for
what he had done for them, went out of the dungeon; but when they
were come into the court, how was the prince surprised to see
among the prisoners, those he was in search of, and almost
without hopes to find! "Princes," cried he, "am I not deceived?
Is it you whom I behold? May I flatter myself that it may be in
my power to restore you to the sultan your father, who is
inconsolable for the loss of you? But will he not have some one
to lament? Are you all here alive? Alas! the death of one of
you will suffice to damp the joy I feel for having delivered
you!"