and little differing from a dead man, with the princess his wife,
who seemed to be in not much better condition than himself. She
rent the air with her dismal shrieks, tore her hair, and bathing
her husband's body with her tears, "Alas! Codadad, my dear
Codadad," cried she, "is it you whom I behold just departing this
life? What cruel hands have put you into this condition? Can I
believe these are your brothers who have treated you so
unmercifully, those brothers whom thy valour had saved? No, they
are rather devils, who under characters so dear came to murder
you. O barbarous wretches! how could you make so ungrateful a
return for the service he has done you? But why should I
complain of your brothers, unfortunate Codadad! I alone am to
blame for your death. You would join your fate with mine, and
all the ill fortune that has attended me since I left my father's
palace has fallen upon you. O Heaven! which has condemned me to
lead a life of calamities, if you will not permit me to have a
consort, why did you permit me to find one? Behold you have now
robbed me of two, just as I began to be attached to them."
By these and other moving expressions, the afflicted princess of
Deryabar vented her sorrow, fixing her eyes on the unfortunate
Codadad, who could not hear her; but he was not dead, and his
consort observing that he still breathed, ran to a large town she
espied in the plain, to inquire for a surgeon. She was directed
to one, who went immediately with her; but when they came to the
tent, they could not find Codadad, which made them conclude he
had been dragged away by some wild beast to be devoured. The
princess renewed her complaints and lamentations in a most
affecting manner. The surgeon was moved and being unwilling to
leave her in so distressed a condition, proposed to her to return
to the town offering her his house and service.
She suffered herself to be prevailed on. The surgeon conducted
her to his house, and without knowing, as yet, who she was,
treated her with all imaginable courtesy and respect. He used
all his endeavours to comfort her, but it was vain to think of
removing her sorrow, which was rather heightened than diminished.
"Madam," said he to her one day, "be pleased to recount to me
your misfortunes; tell me your country and your condition.
Perhaps I may give you some good advice, when I am acquainted
with all the circumstances of your calamity. You do nothing but
afflict yourself, without considering that remedies may be found
for the most desperate diseases."
The surgeon's words were so efficacious, that they wrought on the
princess, who recounted to him all her adventures: and when she
had done, the surgeon directed his discourse to her; "Madam,"
said he, "you ought not thus to give way to your sorrow; you
ought rather to arm yourself with resolution, and perform what
the name and the duty of a wife require of you. You are bound to
avenge your husband. If you please, I will wait on you as your
attendant. Let us go to the sultan of Harran's court; he is a
good and a just prince. You need only represent to him in lively
colours, how prince Codadad has been treated by his brothers. I
am persuaded he will do you justice." "I submit to your
reasons," answered the princess; "it is my duty to endeavour to
avenge Codadad; and since you are so generous as to offer to
attend me, I am ready to set out." No sooner had she fixed this
resolution, than the surgeon ordered two camels to be made ready,
on which the princess and he mounted, and repaired to Harran.
They alighted at the first caravanserai they found, and inquired
of the host the news at court. "It is," said he, "in very great
perplexity. The sultan had a son, who lived long with him as a
stranger, and none can tell what is become of the young prince.
One of the sultan's wives, named Pirouzè, is his mother; she has
made all possible inquiry, but to no purpose. All are concerned
at the loss of this prince, because he had great merit. The
sultan has forty-nine other sons, all by different mothers, but
not one of them has virtue enough to comfort him for the death of
Codadad; I say, his death, because it is impossible he should be
still alive, since no intelligence has been heard of him,
notwithstanding so much search has been made."
The surgeon having heard this account from the host, concluded
that the best course the princess of Deryabar could take was to
wait upon Pirouzè; but that step was not without some danger, and
required much precaution: for it was to be feared, that if the
sultan of Harran's sons should happen to hear of the arrival of
their sister-in-law, and her design, they might cause her to be
conveyed away before she could discover herself to Codadad's
mother. The surgeon weighed all these circumstances, considered
what risk he might run himself, and therefore, that he might
manage matters with discretion, desired the princess to remain in
the caravanserai, whilst he repaired to the palace, to observe
which might be the safest way to conduct her to Pirouzè.
He went accordingly into the city, and was walking towards the
palace, like one led only by curiosity to see the court, when he
beheld a lady mounted on a mule richly accoutred. She was
followed by several ladies mounted also on mules, with a great
number of guards and black slaves. All the people formed a lane
to see her pass along, and saluted her by prostrating themselves
on the ground. The surgeon paid her the same respect, and then
asked a calender, who happened to stand by him, "Whether that
lady was one of the sultan's wives?" "Yes, brother," answered
the calender, "she is, and the most honoured and beloved by the
people, because she is the mother of prince Codadad, of whom you
must have heard."
The surgeon asked no more questions, but followed Pirouzè to a
mosque, into which she went to distribute alms, and assist at the
public prayers which the sultan had ordered to be offered up for
the safe return of Codadad. The people, who were highly
concerned for that young prince, ran in crowds to join their vows
to the prayers of the priests, so that the mosque was quite full.
The surgeon broke through the throng, and advanced to Pirouzè's
guards. He waited the conclusion of the prayers, and when the
princess went out, stepped up to one of her slaves, and whispered
him in the ear, "Brother, I have a secret of moment to impart to
the princess Pirouzè; may not I, by your means, be introduced
into her apartment?" "If that secret," answered the slave,
"relate to prince Codadad, I dare promise you shall have audience
of her this very day; but if it concern not him, it is needless
for you to endeavour to be introduced; for her thoughts are all
engrossed by her son, and she will not hear of any other
subject." "It is only about that dear son," replied the surgeon,
"that I wish to speak to her." "If so," said the slave, "you
need only follow us to the palace, and you shall soon have the
opportunity."
Accordingly, as soon as Pirouzè was returned to her apartment,
the slave acquainted her that a person unknown had some important
information to communicate to her, and that it related to prince
Codadad. No sooner had he uttered these words, than Pirouzè
expressed her impatience to see the stranger. The slave
immediately conducted him into the princess's closet, who ordered
all her women to withdraw, except two, from whom she concealed
nothing. As soon as she saw the surgeon, she asked him eagerly,
what news he had to tell her of Codadad? "Madam," answered the
surgeon, after having prostrated himself on the ground, "I have a
long account to give you, and such as will surprise you." He
then related all the particulars of what had passed between
Codadad and his brothers, which she listened to with eager
attention; but when he came to speak of the murder, the tender
mother fainted away on her sofa, as if she had herself been
stabbed like her son. Her two women used proper means, and soon
brought her to herself. The surgeon continued his relation; and
when he had concluded, Pirouzè said to him, "Go back to the
princess of Deryabar, and assure her from me that the sultan
shall soon own her for his daughter-in-law; and as for yourself,
be satisfied, that your services shall be rewarded as liberally
as they deserve."
When the surgeon was gone, Pirouzè remained on the sofa, in such
a state of affliction as may easily be imagined; and yielding to
her tenderness at the recollection of Codadad, "O my son," said
she, "I must never then expect to see you more! Alas! when I
gave you leave to depart from Samaria, and you took leave of me,
I did not imagine that so unfortunate a death awaited you at such
a distance from me. Unfortunate Codadad! Why did you leave me?
You would not, it is true, have acquired so much renown, but you
had been still alive, and not have cost your mother so many
tears." While she uttered these words, she wept bitterly, and
her two attendants moved by her grief, mingled their tears with
hers.
Whilst they were all three in this manner vying in affliction,
the sultan came into the closet, and seeing them in this
condition, asked Pirouzè whether she had received any bad news
concerning Codadad? "Alas! sir," said she, "all is over, my son
has lost his life, and to add to my sorrow, I cannot pay him the
funeral rites; for, in all probability, wild beasts have devoured
him." She then told him all she had heard from the surgeon, and
did not fail to enlarge on the inhuman manner in which Codadad
had been murdered by his brothers.
The sultan did not give Pirouzè time to finish her relation, but
transported with anger, and giving way to his passion, "Madam,"
said he to the princess, "those perfidious wretches who cause you
to shed these tears, and are the occasion of mortal grief to
their father, shall soon feel the punishment due to their guilt."
The sultan having spoken these words, with indignation in his
countenance, went directly to the presence-chamber where all his
courtiers attended, and such of the people as had petitions to
present to him. They were alarmed to see him in passion, and
thought his anger had been kindled against his people. Their
hearts were chilled with fear. He ascended the throne, and
causing his grand vizier to approach, "Hassan," said he, "go
immediately, take a thousand of my guards, and seize all the
princes, my sons; shut them up in the tower used as a prison for
murderers, and let this be done in a moment." All who were
present trembled at this extraordinary command; and the grand
vizier, without uttering a word, laid his hand on his head, to
express his obedience, and hastened from the hall to execute his
orders. In the mean time the sultan dismissed those who attended
for audience, and declared he would not hear of any business for
a month to come. He was still in the hall when the vizier
returned. "Are all my sons," demanded he, "in the tower?" "They
are, sir," answered the vizier, "I have obeyed your orders."
"This is not all," replied the sultan, "I have further commands
for you;" and so saying he went out of the hall of audience, and
returned to Pirouzè's apartment, the vizier following him. He
asked the princess where Codadad's widow had taken up her
lodging? Pirouzè's women told him, for the surgeon had not
forgotten that in his relation. The sultan then turning to his
minister, "Go," said he, "to this caravanserai, and conduct a
young princess who lodges there, with all the respect due to her
quality, to my palace."
The vizier was not long in performing what he was ordered. He
mounted on horseback with all the emirs and courtiers, and
repaired to the caravanserai, where the princess of Deryabar was
lodged, whom he acquainted with his orders; and presented her,
from the sultan, a fine white mule, whose saddle and bridle were
adorned with gold, rubies, and diamonds. She mounted, and
proceeded to the palace. The surgeon attended her, mounted on a
beautiful Tartar horse which the vizier had provided for him.
All the people were at their windows, or in the streets, to see
the cavalcade; and it being given out that the princess, whom
they conducted in such state to court, was Codadad's wife, the
city resounded with acclamations, the air rung with shouts of
joy, which would have been turned into lamentations had that
prince's fatal adventure been known; so much was he beloved by
all.
The princess of Deryabar found the sultan at the palace-gate,
waiting to receive her: he took her by the hand, and led her to
Pirouzè's apartment, where a very moving scene took place.
Codadad's wife found her affliction redouble at the sight of her
husband's father and mother; as, on the other hand, those parents
could not look on their son's wife without being much affected.
She cast herself at the sultan's feet, and having bathed them
with tears, was so overcome with grief, that she was not able to
speak. Pirouzè was in no better state. And the sultan, moved by
these affecting objects, gave way to his own feelings, and wept.
All three, mingling their tears and sighs, for some time observed
a silence, equally tender and pitiful. At length the princess of
Deryabar, being somewhat recovered, recounted the adventure of
the castle, and Codadad's disaster. Then she demanded justice
for the treachery of the princes. "Yes, madam," said the sultan,
"those ungrateful wretches shall perish; but Codadad's death must
be first made public, that the punishment of his brothers may not
cause my subjects to rebel; and though we have not my son's body,
we will not omit paying him the last duties." This said, he
directed his discourse to the vizier, and ordered him to cause to
be erected a dome of white marble, in a delightful plain, in the
midst of which the city of Harran stands. Then he appointed the
princess of Deryabar a suitable apartment in his palace,
acknowledging her for his daughter-in-law.
Hassan caused the work to be carried on with such diligence, and
employed so many workmen, that the dome was soon finished.
Within it was erected a tomb, which was covered with gold
brocade. When all was completed, the sultan ordered prayers to
be said, and appointed a day for the obsequies of his son.
On that day all the inhabitants of the city went out upon the
plain to see the ceremony performed, which was after the
following manner. The sultan, attended by his vizier and the
principal lords of the court, proceeded towards the dome, and
being come to it, he went in and sat down with them on carpets of
black satin embroidered with gold flowers. A great body of
horse-guards hanging their heads, drew up close about the dome,
and marched round it twice, observing a profound silence; but at
the third round they halted before the door, and all of them with
a loud voice pronounced these words: "O prince! son to the
sultan, could we by dint of sword, and human valour, repair your
misfortune, we would bring you back to life; but the King of
kings has commanded, and the angel of death has obeyed." Having
uttered these words, they drew off, to make way for a hundred old
men, all of them mounted on black mules, and having long grey
beards. These were anchorites, who had lived all their days
concealed in caves. They never appeared in sight of the world,
but when they were to assist at the obsequies of the sultans of
Harran, and of the princes of their family. Each of these
venerable persons carried on his head a book, which he held with
one hand. They took three turns round the dome without uttering
a word; then stopping before the door, one of them said, "O
prince! what can we do for thee? If thou couldst be restored to
life by prayer or learning, we would rub our grey beards at thy
feet, and recite prayers; but the King of the universe has taken
thee away for ever."
This said, the old men moved to a distance from the dome, and
immediately fifty beautiful young maidens drew near to it; each
of them mounted on a little white horse; they wore no veils, and
carried gold baskets full of all sorts of precious stones. They
also rode thrice round the dome, and halting at the same place as
the others had done, the youngest of them spoke in the name of
all, as follows: "O prince! once so beautiful, what relief can
you expect from us? If we could restore you to life by our
charms, we would become your slaves. But you are no longer
sensible to beauty, and have no more occasion for us."
When the young maids were withdrawn, the sultan and his courtiers
arose, and having walked thrice around the tomb, the sultan spoke
as follows: "O my dear son, light of my eyes, I have then lost
thee for ever!" He accompanied these words with sighs, and
watered the tomb with his tears; his courtiers weeping with him.
The gate of the dome was then closed, and all the people returned
to the city. Next day there were public prayers in all the
mosques, and the same was continued for eight days successively.
On the ninth the king resolved to cause the princes his sons to
be beheaded. The people incensed at their cruelty towards
Codadad, impatiently expected to see them executed. The
scaffolds were erecting, but the execution was respited, because,
on a sudden, intelligence was brought that the neighbouring
princes, who had before made war on the sultan of Harran, were
advancing with more numerous forces than on the first invasion,
and were then not far from the city. It had been long known that
they were preparing for war, but their preparations caused no
alarm. This news occasioned general consternation, and gave new
cause to lament the loss of Codadad, who had signalized himself
in the former war against the same enemies. "Alas!" said they,
"were the brave Codadad alive, we should little regard those
princes who are coming to surprise us." The sultan, nothing
dismayed, raised men with all possible speed, formed a
considerable army, and being too brave to await the enemy's
coming to attack him within his walls, marched out to meet them.
They, on their side, being informed by their advanced parties
that the sultan of Harran was marching to engage them, halted in
the plain, and formed their army.
As soon as the sultan discovered them, he also drew up his
forces, and ranged them in order of battle. The signal was given
and he attacked them with extraordinary vigour; nor was the
opposition inferior. Much blood was shed on both sides, and the
victory remained long dubious; but at length it seemed to incline
to the sultan of Harran's enemies, who, being more numerous, were
upon the point of surrounding him, when a great body of cavalry
appeared on the plain, and approached the two armies. The sight
of this fresh party daunted both sides, neither knowing what to
think of them: but their doubts were soon cleared; for they fell
upon the flank of the sultan of Harran's enemies with such a
furious charge, that they soon broke and routed them. Nor did
they stop here; they pursued them, and cut most of them in
pieces.
The sultan of Harran, who had attentively observed all that
passed, admired the bravery of this strange body of cavalry,
whose unexpected arrival had given the victory to his army. But,
above all, he was charmed with their chief, whom he had seen
fighting with a more than ordinary valour. He longed to know the
name of the generous hero. Impatient to see and thank him, he
advanced towards him, but perceived he was coming to prevent him.
The two princes drew near, and the sultan of Harran discovering
Codadad in the brave warrior who had just assisted him, or rather
defeated his enemies, became motionless with joy and surprise.
"Father," said Codadad to him, "you have sufficient cause to be
astonished at the sudden appearance before your majesty of a man,
whom perhaps you concluded to be dead. I should have been so had
not heaven preserved me still to serve you against your enemies."
"O my son!" cried the sultan, "is it possible that you are
restored to me? Alas! I despaired of seeing you more." So
saying he stretched out his arms to the young prince, who flew to
such a tender embrace.
"I know all, my son," said the sultan again, after having long
held him in his arms. "I know what return your brothers have
made you for delivering them out of the hands of the black; but
you shall be revenged to-morrow. Let us now go to the palace
where your mother, who has shed so many tears on your account,
expects me to rejoice with us for the defeat of our enemies.
What a joy will it be to her to be informed, that my victory is
your work!" "Sir," said Codadad, "give me leave to ask how you
could know the adventure of the castle? Have any of my brothers,
repenting, owned it to you?" "No," answered the sultan; "the
princess of Deryabar has given us an account of every thing, for
she is in my palace and came thither to demand justice against
your brothers." Codadad was transported with joy, to learn that
the princess his wife was at the court. "Let us go, sir," cried
he to his father in rapture, "let us go to my mother, who waits
for us. I am impatient to dry up her tears, as well as those of
the princess of Deryabar."
The sultan immediately returned to the city with his army, and
re-entered his palace victorious, amidst the acclamations of the
people, who followed him in crowds, praying to heaven to prolong
his life, and extolling Codadad to the skies. They found Pirouzè
and her daughter-in-law waiting to congratulate the sultan; but
words cannot express the transports of joy they felt, when they
saw the young prince with him: their embraces were mingled with
tears of a very different kind from those they had before shed
for him. When they had sufficiently yielded to all the emotions
that the ties of blood and love inspired, they asked Codadad by
what miracle he came to be still alive?
He answered, that a peasant mounted on a mule happening
accidentally to come into the tent, where he lay senseless, and
perceiving him alone, and stabbed in several places, had made him
fast on his mule, and carried him to his house, where he applied
to his wounds certain herbs chewed, which recovered him. "When I
found myself well," added he, "I returned thanks to the peasant,
and gave him all the diamonds I had. I then made for the city of
Harran; but being informed by the way, that some neighbouring
princes had gathered forces, and were on their march against the
sultan's subjects, I made myself known to the villagers, and
stirred them up to undertake his defence. I armed a great number
of young men, and heading them, happened to arrive at the time
when the two armies were engaged."
When he had done speaking, the sultan said, "Let us return thanks
to God for having preserved Codadad; but it is requisite that the
traitors, who would have destroyed him, should perish." "Sir,"
answered the generous prince, "though they are wicked and
ungrateful, consider they are your own flesh and blood: they are
my brothers; I forgive their offence, and beg you to pardon
them." This generosity drew tears from the sultan, who caused
the people to be assembled and declared Codadad his heir. He
then ordered the princes, who were prisoners, to be brought out
loaded with irons. Pirouzè's son struck off their chains, and
embraced them all successively, with as much sincerity and
affection as he had done in the court of the black's castle. The
people were charmed with Codadad's generosity, and loaded him
with applause. The surgeon was next nobly rewarded in requital
of the services he had done the princess of Deryabar.
THE STORY OF ABOU HASSAN, OR THE SLEEPER
AWAKENED.
In the reign of the caliph Haroon al Rusheed, there lived at
Bagdad a very rich merchant, who, having married a woman advanced
in years, had but one son, whom he named Abou Hassan, and
educated with great restraint: when his son was thirty years old,
the merchant dying, left him his sole heir, and master of great
riches, amassed together by much frugality and close application
to business. Abou Hassan, whose views and inclinations were very
different from those of his father, determined to make another
use of his wealth; for as his father had never allowed him any
money but what was just necessary for subsistence, and he had
always envied those young persons of his age who wanted for
nothing, and who debarred themselves from none of those pleasures
to which youth are so much addicted, he resolved in his turn to
distinguish himself by extravagancies proportionable to his
fortune. To this end he divided his riches into two parts; with
one half he bought houses in town, and land in the country, with
a resolution never to touch the income of his real estate, which
was considerable enough to live upon .very handsomely, but lay it
all by as he received it. With the other half, which consisted of
ready money, he designed to make himself amends for the time he
had lost by the severe restraint in which his father had always
kept him.