slave, slept till very late the next morning. When the powder was
worked off, he awoke, opened his eyes, and finding himself at
home, was in the utmost surprise. "Cluster of Pearls! Morning
Star! Coral Lips! Moon Face!" cried he, calling the ladies of the
palace by their names, as he remembered them; "where are you?
come hither."
Abou Hassan called so loud, that his mother, who was in her own
apartment, heard him, and running to him upon the noise he made,
said "What ails you, son? what has happened to you?" At these
words Abou Hassan lifted up his head, and looking haughtily at
his mother, said, "Good woman! who is it you call son?" "Why
you," answered his mother very mildly; "are not you Abou Hassan
my son? It is strange that you have forgotten yourself so soon."
"I your son! old bull!" replied Abou Hassan; "you are a liar, and
know not what you say! I am not Abou Hassan, I tell you, but the
commander of the faithful!"
"Hold your tongue, son," answered the mother "one would think you
are a fool, to hear you talk thus." "You are an old fool
yourself," replied Abou Hassan; "I tell you once more I am the
commander of the faithful, and God's vicar on earth!" "Ah!
child," cried the mother, "is it possible that I should hear you
utter such words that shew you are distracted! What evil genius
possesses you, to make you talk at this rate? God bless you, and
preserve you from the power of Satan. You are my son Abou Hassan,
and I am your mother."
After she had used all the arguments she could think of to bring
him to himself, and to shew how great an error he was in, she
said, "Do not you see that the room you are now in is your own,
and is not like a chamber in a palace fit for the commander of
the believers? and that you have never left it since you were
born, but lived quietly at home with me. Think seriously of what
I say, and do not fancy things that are not, nor ever can be.
Once more, my son, think seriously of it."
Abou Hassan heard all these remonstrances of his mother very
patiently, holding down his eyes, and clapping his hands under
his chin, like a man recollecting himself, to examine the truth
of what he saw and heard. At last, he said to his mother, just as
if he was awaking out of a deep sleep, and with his hand in the
same posture, "I believe you are right, methinks I am Abou
Hassan, you are my mother, and I am in my own room." Then looking
at her again, and at every object before him, he added, "I am
Abou Hassan, there is no doubt of it, and I cannot comprehend how
this fancy came into my head."
The mother really believed that her son was cured of the disorder
of his mind, which she ascribed to a dream, began to laugh with
him, and ask him questions about it; when suddenly he started up,
and looking crossly at his mother, said, "Old sorceress, you know
not what you say. I am not your son, nor you my mother. You
deceive yourself and would deceive me. I tell you I am the
commander of the faithful, and you shall never persuade me to the
contrary!" "For heaven's sake, son," said the mother, "let us
leave off this discourse; recommend yourself to God, for fear
some misfortune should happen to us; let us talk of something
else. I will tell you what happened yesterday in our quarter to
the imaum of the mosque, and the four scheiks our neighbours: the
judge of the police came and seized them, and gave each of them I
know not how many strokes with a bastinado, while a crier
proclaimed, That such was the punishment of all those who
troubled themselves about other people's business, and employed
themselves in setting their neighbours at variance:' he
afterwards led them through all the streets, and ordered them
never to come into our quarter again." Abou Hassan's mother
little thought her son had any share in this adventure, and
therefore had turned the discourse on purpose to put him out of
the conceit of being the commander of the faithful; but instead
of effacing that idea, she recalled it, and impressed the more
deeply in his mind, that it was not imaginary but real.
Abou Hassan no sooner heard this relation, but he cried out, "I
am neither thy son, nor Abou Hassan, but certainly the commander
of the believers. I cannot doubt after what you have told me.
Know then that it was by my order the imaum and the four scheiks
were punished, and I tell you I am certainly the commander of the
faithful: therefore say no more of its being a dream. I was not
asleep, but as much awake as I am now. You do me much pleasure to
confirm what the judge of the police told me he had executed
punctually according to my order; I am overjoyed that the imaum
and the four scheiks, those great hypocrites, were so chastised,
and I should be glad to know how I came here. God be praised for
all things! I am certainly commander of the faithful, and all thy
arguments shall not convince me of the contrary."
The mother, who could not imagine why her son so strenuously and
positively maintained himself to be caliph, no longer doubted but
that he had lost his senses, when she found he insisted so much
on a thing that was so incredible; and in this thought said, "I
pray God, son, to have mercy upon you! Pray do not talk so madly.
Beseech God to forgive you, and give you grace to talk more
reasonably. What would the world say to hear you rave in this
manner? Do you not know that walls have ears?'"
These remonstrances only enraged Abou Hassan the more; and he was
so provoked at his mother, that he said, "Old woman, I have
desired you once already to hold your tongue. If you do not, I
shall rise and give you cause to repent all your lifetime. I am
the caliph and the commander of the believers; and you ought to
credit me when I say so."
The good woman supposing that he was more distracted than ever,
abandoned herself to tears, and beating her face and breast,
expressed the utmost grief and astonishment to see her son in
such a state. Abou Hassan, instead of being appeased or moved by
his mother's tears, lost all the respect due from a son to his
mother. Getting up hastily, and laying hold of a switch, he ran
to his mother in great fury, and in a threatening manner that
would have frightened any one but a mother so partial to him,
said, "Tell me directly, wicked woman, who I am." "I do not
believe, son," replied she, looking at him tenderly, and without
fear, "that you are so abandoned by God as not to know your
mother, who brought you into the world, and to mistake yourself.
You are indeed my son Abou Hassan, and are much in the wrong to
arrogate to yourself the title which belongs only to our
sovereign lord the caliph Haroon al Rusheed, especially after the
noble and generous present the monarch made us yesterday. I
forgot to tell you, that the grand vizier Jaaffier came to me
yesterday, and putting a purse of a thousand pieces of gold into
my hands, bade me pray for the commander of the faithful, who had
sent me that present; and does not this liberality concern you
more than me, who have but a short time to live?"
At these words Abou Hassan grew quite mad. The circumstance of
the caliph's liberality persuaded him more than ever that he was
caliph, remembering that he had sent the vizier. "Well, old hag,"
cried he, "will you be convinced when I tell you that I sent you
those thousand pieces of gold by my grand vizier Jaaffier, who
obeyed my commands, as I was commander of the faithful? But
instead of believing me, you endeavour to distract me by your
contradictions, and maintain with obstinacy that I am your son;
but you shall not go long unpunished." After these words, he was
so unnatural, in the height of his frenzy, as to beat her cruelly
with his cane.
The poor mother, who could not have thought that her son would
have come so soon from words to blows, called out for help so
loud, that the neighbours ran in to her assistance. Abou Hassan
continued to beat her, at every stroke asking her if he was the
commander of the faithful? to which she always answered tenderly,
that he was her son.
By the time the neighbours came in Abou Hassan's rage began to
abate. The first who entered the room got between him and his
mother, and taking the switch out of his hand, said to him, "What
are you doing, Abou Hassan? have you lost all fear of God and
your reason? Did ever a son so well brought up as you dare to
strike his mother? are you not ashamed so to treat yours, who
loves you so tenderly?" Abou Hassan, still full of fury, looked
at him who spoke without returning an answer; and then staring on
all the rest of his neighbours who had followed, said, "Who is
that Abou Hassan you speak of? Is it me you call by that name?"
This question disconcerted the neighbours. "How!" said he who
spoke first, "do not you know your mother who brought you up, and
with whom you have always lived?" "Be gone, you are impertinent
vagabonds," replied Abou Hassan; "I neither knew her nor you, and
will not know her. I am not Abou Hassan; I am the commander of
the faithful, and will make you feel it to your cost."
At this speech the neighbours no longer doubted that he was mad:
and to prevent his repeating his outrages, seized him,
notwithstanding his resistance, and bound him hand and foot, But
though apparently disabled from doing any mischief, they did not
choose to leave him alone with his mother. Two of them ran for
the keeper of the hospital for insane persons, who came presently
with chains, handcuffs, a bastinado, and many attendants. When
they entered the room, Abou Hassan, who little expected such
treatment, struggled to unloose himself; but after his keeper had
given him two or three smart strokes upon the shoulders, he lay
so quiet, that the keeper and his people did what they pleased
with him. As soon as they had bound and manacled him, they took
him with them to the hospital. When he was got out of the house
into the street, the people crowded round him, one buffeted him,
another boxed him, and others called him fool and madman. To all
this treatment he replied, "There is no greatness and power but
in God most high and almighty. I am treated as a fool, though I
am in my right senses. I suffer all these injuries and
indignities for the love of God." He was conducted to the
hospital, where he was lodged in a grated cell; but before he was
shut up, the keeper, who was hardened to such terrible execution,
regaled him without pity with fifty strokes of the bastinado on
his shoulders, which he repeated every day for three weeks,
bidding him remember that he was not the commander of the
faithful. "I am not mad," said Abou Hassan, "but if I wanted your
assistance, nothing would so effectually make me mad as your
cruel treatment. I want not your advice."
Abou Hassan's mother went every day to visit her son, and could
not forbear weeping at beholding him fall away, and sigh and
complain at the hardships he endured. In short, his shoulders,
back, and sides were so black and bruised, that he could not turn
himself. His mother would willingly have talked with him, to
comfort him, and to sound him whether he still retained the
notion of being caliph; but whenever she opened her mouth, he
stopped her with so much fury, that she was forced to leave him,
and return home inconsolable at his obstinacy.
By degrees, however, those strong and lively ideas, which Abou
Hassan had entertained, of having been clothed in the caliph's
habit, having exercised his authority, and been punctually obeyed
and treated like the true caliph, the assurance of which had
persuaded him that he was so, began to wear away. Sometimes he
would say to himself, "If I was the caliph and commander of the
believers, how came I, when I awoke, to find myself at home
dressed in my own apparel? Why should I not have been attended by
eunuchs, and their chief, and a crowd of beautiful ladies? Why
should the grand vizier, and all those emirs and governors of
provinces, who prostrated themselves at my feet, forsake me?
Undoubtedly if I had any authority over them, they would have
delivered me long ago out of the miserable condition I am in;
certainly I ought to look upon all as a dream. It is true,
however, that I commanded the judge of the police to punish the
imaum, and the four old men his companions; I ordered the grand
vizier to carry my mother a thousand pieces of gold; and my
commands were executed. All these points are obstacles to my
believing it a dream; but there are so many things that I cannot
comprehend, nor ever shall, that I will put my trust in God, who
knows all things."
Abou Hassan was taken up with these thoughts and reflections when
his mother came to see him. She found him so much altered and
emaciated that she shed a torrent of tears; in the midst of which
she saluted him as she used to do, and he returned her
salutation, which he had never done before since he had been in
the hospital. This she looked upon to be a good sign. "Well, my
son," said she, wiping her tears, "how do you do, and how do you
find yourself? Have you renounced all those whims and fancies
which the devil had put into your head?" "Indeed, mother,"
replied Abou Hassan, very rationally and calmly, and in a tone
expressive of his grief for the excesses he had been transported
to against her, "I acknowledge my error, and beg of you to
forgive the execrable crime which I have been guilty of towards
you, and which I detest. I ask pardon also of my neighbours whom
I have abused. I have been deceived by a dream; but by so
extraordinary a one, and so like to truth, that I venture to
affirm any other person, to whom such a thing might have
happened, would have been guilty of as great or greater
extravagancies; and I am this instant so much perplexed about it,
that while I am speaking I can hardly persuade myself but that
what befell me was matter of fact, so like was it to what happens
to people who are broad awake. But whatever it was, I do, and
shall always regard it as a dream and an illusion. I am convinced
that I am not that shadow of a caliph and commander of the
faithful, but Abou Hassan your son, the son of a person whom I
always honoured till that fatal day, the remembrance of which
will cover me with confusion, and whom in future I shall honour
and respect all my life as I ought."
At this rational declaration, the tears of sorrow and affliction
which the mother of Abou Hassan had so long shed were changed
into those of joy. "My son!" cried she, transported with
pleasure, "my satisfaction and comfort to hear you talk so
reasonably is inexpressible: and it gives me as much joy as if I
had brought you into the world a second time; but I must tell you
my opinion of this adventure, and observe one thing which you may
not have noticed; the stranger whom you brought home the evening
before your illness to sup with you went away without shutting
your chamber-door after him, as you desired; which I believe gave
the devil an opportunity to enter, and throw you into the
horrible illusion you have been in: therefore, my son, you ought
to return God thanks for your deliverance, and beseech him to
keep you from falling again into the snares of the evil spirit."
"You have found out the source of our misfortunes," answered Abou
Hassan. "It was that very night I had this dream which turned my
brain. I bade the merchant expressly to shut the door after him;
and now I find he did not do it. I am persuaded, as well as you,
the devil finding it open came in, and filled my head full of
these fancies. The people of Moussul, from whence this merchant
came, may not know how we at Bagdad are convinced from experience
that the devil is the cause of troublesome dreams when we leave
our chamber-doors open. But since, mother, you see I am, by the
grace of God, so well recovered, for God's sake get me out of
this horrible place, which will infallibly shorten my days if I
stay here any longer." The mother, glad to hear her son was so
well cured of his foolish imagination of being caliph, went
immediately to the keeper, and assuring him that he was very
sensible and well, he came, examined, and released him in her
presence.
When Abou Hassan came home, he stayed within doors some days to
recover his health by better living than he had found at the
hospital. But when he had recovered his strength, and felt no
longer the effect of the harsh treatment he had suffered in his
confinement, he began to be weary of spending his evenings alone.
He accordingly entered again upon the same plan as he had before
pursued; which was, to provide enough every day to regale a
stranger at night.
The day on which Abou Hassan renewed his custom of going about
sun-set to the end of Bagdad bridge to stop the first stranger
thee offered, and invite him to do him the honour of supping with
him, happened to be the first day of the month, that which the
caliph always set apart to go in disguise out of some one of the
gates to observe what was committed contrary to the good
government of the city, as established and regulated at the
beginning of his reign. Abou Hassan had not been long arrived at
the bridge, when, looking about him, he perceived the Moussul
merchant, followed by the same slave. Persuaded that all his
misfortunes were owing to the merchant's having left his door
open, he shuddered at the sight of him. "God preserve me," said
he to himself; "if I am not deceived, there is again the magician
who enchanted me!" He trembled with agitation, and looked over
the side railing into the river, that he might not see him till
he was past.
The caliph, who wished to renew the diversion he had received,
had taken care to inform himself of all that had happened to Abou
Hassan, and enjoyed much pleasure at the relation given him,
especially at his being sent to a mad-house. But as this monarch
was both just and generous, and had taken a great liking to Abou
Hassan, as capable of contributing further to his amusement, and
had doubted whether, after renouncing his frenzied character of a
caliph, he would return to his usual manner of living; with a
view therefore to bring him to his palace, he disguised himself
again like a merchant of Moussul, the better to execute his plan.
He perceived Abou Hassan at the same time that he saw him, and
presently guessed by his action that he was angry, and wished to
shun him. This made him walk close to the side railing; and when
he came nigh him, he put his head over to look him in the face.
"Ho, brother Abou Hassan," said he, "is it you? I greet you! Give
me leave to embrace you?"
"Not I," replied Abou Hassan, pettishly, without looking at the
pretended Moussul merchant; "I do not greet you; I will have
neither your greeting nor your embraces. Go along!"
"What!" answered the caliph, "do you not know me? Do you not
remember the evening we spent together at your house this day
month, where you did me the honour to treat me very generously?"
"No," replied Abou Hassan in the same tone, "I do not know you,
nor what you talk about; go, I say again, about your business."
The caliph was not to be diverted from his purpose by this rude
behaviour. He well knew the law Abou Hassan had imposed on
himself, never to have commerce again with a stranger he had once
entertained; but pretended to be ignorant of it. "I cannot
believe," said he, "but you must know me again; it is not
possible that you should have forgotten me in so short a time.
Certainly some misfortune has befallen you, which inspires you
with this aversion for me. However, you ought to remember, that I
shewed my gratitude by my good wishes, and that I offered you my
interest, which is not to be slighted, in an affair which you had
much at heart."
"I do not know," replied Abou Hassan, "what your interest may be,
and I have no desire to make use of it: but I am sensible the
utmost of your good wishes ended in making me mad. In God's name,
I say once more, go your way, and trouble me no more."
"Ah! brother Abou Hassan," replied the caliph, embracing him, "I
do not intend to part with you thus, since I have had the good
fortune to meet with you a second time; you must exercise the
same hospitality towards me again that you shewed me a month ago,
when I had the honour to drink with you."
"I have protested against this," said Abou Hassan, "and have so
much power over myself, as to decline receiving a second time as
my guest, a man like you who carries misfortunes with him. You
know the proverb, Take up your drum and begone.' Make the
application to yourself. How often must I repeat my refusal. God
be with you! You have been the cause of my sufferings, and I will
not trust myself with you again." "My good friend Abou Hassan,"
said the caliph, embracing him, "you treat me in a way I little
expected. I beg of you not to speak to me thus harshly, but be
persuaded of my friendship. Do me the favour to tell me what has
happened to you; for I assure you I wished you well, and still do
so; and would be glad of an opportunity to make you any amends
for the trouble I have caused you, if it has been really my
fault." Abou Hassan yielded to the solicitations of the caliph.
"Your incredulity and importunity," said he, "have tired my
patience; and what I am going to relate will shew you that I do
not accuse you wrongfully."
The caliph seated himself by Abou Hassan, while he told him all
that had happened to him, from his waking in the palace to his
waking again in his own house, all which he described as a mere
dream, and recounted all the circumstances, which the caliph knew
as well as himself, and which renewed his pleasure. He enlarged
afterwards on the impression which the dream of being caliph and
commander of the faithful had made upon him, which, he said,
threw him into such extravagancies, that his neighbours were
obliged to carry him to a mad-house, where he was treated in a
manner which he deemed most barbarous and inhuman. "But," said
he, "what will surprise you, and what you little think of, is,
that it was altogether your fault that these things happened to
me; for, if you remember, I desired you to shut the door after
you, which you neglected, and the devil, finding it open, entered
and put this dream into my head, which, though it was very
agreeable, was the cause of the misfortune I complain of: you
therefore, for your negligence, are answerable for the horrid and
detestable crime I have committed in lifting my hand against my
mother, whom I might have killed (I blush for shame when I think
of it), because she said I was her son, and would not acknowledge
me for commander of the faithful, as I thought and positively
insisted on to her that I was. You are the cause of the offence I
have given my neighbours, when, running in at the cries of my
poor mother, they surprised me in the horrid act of felling her
at my feet; which would never have happened, if you had taken
care to shut my door when you went away, as I desired you. They
would not have come into my house without my leave; and, what
troubles me most of all, they would not have been witnesses of my
folly. I should not have been obliged to strike them in my own
defence, and they would not have bound and fettered me, to carry
and shut me up in the hospital for madmen, where I assure you
every day that I remained confined in that hell, I received a
score of strokes with a bastinado." Abou Hassan recounted his
complaints with great warmth and vehemence to the caliph, who
knew as well as himself what had passed, and was delighted to
find that he had succeeded so well in his plan to throw him into
the vagaries from which he still was not entirely free. He could
not help laughing at the simplicity wherewith he related them.
Abou Hassan, who thought that his story should rather have moved
compassion, and that every one ought to be as much concerned at
it as himself, warmly resented the pretended Moussul merchant's
laughter. "What!" said he, "do you make a jest of me and laugh in
my face, or do you believe I laugh at you when I speak seriously?
If you want proof of what I advance, look yourself and see
whether or no I tell you the truth ;" with that, stooping down
and baring his shoulders, he shewed the caliph the scars and
weals which the bastinado had left.
The caliph could not behold these marks of cruelty without
horror. He pitied Abou Hassan, and felt sorry he had carried the
jest so far. "Come, rise, dear brother," said he to him eagerly,
and embracing Abou Hassan heartily in his arms; "let me go to
your house, and enjoy the happiness of being merry with you to-
night; and to-morrow, if it please God, all things will go well."