it, said, "Eat, good mother, and make choice of what you like
best; you had need to eat after coming so far." "Madam," replied
the good woman, "I am not used to eat such delicacies; but will
not refuse what God has sent me by so liberal a hand as yours."
While the devout woman was eating, the princess ate a little too,
to bear her company, and asked her many questions upon the
exercise of devotion which she practised, and how she lived: all
which she answered with great modesty. Talking of several things,
at last she asked her what she thought of the house, and how she
liked it.
"Madam," answered the devout woman, "I must certainly have very
bad taste to disapprove any thing in it, since it is beautiful,
regular, and magnificently furnished with exactness and judgment,
and all its ornaments adjusted in the best manner. Its situation
is an agreeable spot, and no garden can be more delightful; but
yet if you will give me leave to speak my mind freely, I will
take the liberty to tell you, that this house would be
incomparable if it had three things which are wanting to complete
it." "My good mother," replied the princess Perie-zadeh, "what are
those? I conjure you, in God's name, to tell me what they are: I
will spare nothing to get them, if it be possible."
"Madam," replied the devout woman, "the first of these three
things is the speaking bird, so singular a creature, that it
draws round it all the singing birds of the neighbourhood, which
come to accompany his song. The second is the singing tree, the
leaves of which are so many mouths, which form an harmonious
concert of different voices, and never cease. The third is the
yellow water of a gold colour, a single drop of which being
poured into a vessel properly prepared, it increases so as to
fill it immediately, and rises up in the middle like a fountain,
which continually plays, and yet the basin never overflows."
"Ah! my good mother," cried the princess, "how much am I obliged
to you for the knowledge of these curiosities! They are
surprising, and I never before heard there were such wonderful
rarities in the world; but as I am persuaded that you know, I
expect that you should do me the favour to inform me where they
are to be found."
"Madam," replied the good woman, "I should be unworthy the
hospitality you have with so much goodness shewn me, if I should
refuse to satisfy your curiosity in that point; and am glad to
have the honour to tell you, that these curiosities are all to be
met with in the same spot on the confines of this kingdom,
towards India. The road to it lies before your house, and whoever
you send needs but follow it for twenty days, and on the
twentieth let him only ask the first person he meets where the
speaking bird, singing tree, and yellow water are, and he will be
informed." After saying this, she rose from her seat, took her
leave, and went her way.
The princess Perie-zadeh's thoughts were so taken up with what
the devout woman had told her of the speaking bird, singing tree,
and yellow water, that she never perceived her departure, till
she wanted to ask her some question for her better information;
for she thought that what she had told her was not a sufficient
reason for exposing herself by undertaking a long journey,
possibly to no purpose. However, she would not send after her,
but endeavoured to remember all she had told her; and when she
thought she had recollected every word, took real pleasure in
thinking of the satisfaction she should have if she could get
these wonderful curiosities into her possession; but the
difficulties she apprehended, and the fear of not succeeding,
made her very uneasy.
She was absorbed in these thoughts when her brothers returned
from hunting; who, when they entered the great hall, instead of
finding her lively and gay, as she used to be be, were amazed to
see her so pensive, and hanging down her head as if something
troubled her.
"Sister," said prince Bahman, "what is become of all your mirth
and gaiety? Are you not well? or has some misfortune befallen
you? Has any body given you reason to be so melancholy? Tell us,
that we may know how to act, and give you some relief. If any one
has affronted you, we will resent his insolence."
The princess remained in the same posture some time without
answering; but at last lifted up her eyes to look at her
brothers, and then held them down again, telling them nothing
disturbed her.
"Sister," said prince Bahman, "you conceal the truth from us;
there must be something of consequence. It is impossible we could
observe so sudden a change if nothing was the matter with you.
You would not have us satisfied with the evasive answer you have
given: do not conceal any thing, unless you would have us suspect
that you renounce the strict union which has hitherto subsisted
between us from our infancy."
The princess, who had not the smallest intention to offend her
brothers, would not suffer them to entertain such a thought, but
said, "When I told you nothing disturbed me, I meant nothing that
was of importance to you; but to me it is of some consequence;
and since you press me to tell you by our strict union and
friendship, which are so dear to me, I will. You think, and I
always believed so too, that this house was so complete that
nothing was wanting. But this day I have learned that it wants
three rarities, which would render it so perfect that no country
seat in the world could be compared with it. These three things
are, the speaking bird, the singing tree, and the yellow water.
After she had informed them wherein consisted the excellency of
these rarities," "A devout woman," added she, "has made this
discovery to me, told me the place where they are to be found,
and the way thither. Perhaps you may imagine these things to be
trifles, and of little consequence to render our house complete,
that without these additions it will always be thought
sufficiently elegant with what it already contains, and that we
can do without them. You may think as you please; but I cannot
help telling you that I am persuaded they are absolutely
necessary, and I shall not be easy without them. Therefore,
whether you value them or not, I desire you to consider what
person you may think proper for me to send in search of the
curiosities I have mentioned."
"Sister," replied prince Bahman, "nothing can concern you in
which we have not an equal interest. It is enough that you have
an earnest desire for the things you mention to oblige us to take
the same interest; but if you had not, we feel ourselves inclined
of our own accord and for our own individual satisfaction. I am
persuaded my brother is of the same opinion, and therefore we
ought to undertake this conquest; for the importance and
singularity of the undertaking deserve that name. I will take
that charge upon myself; only tell me the place, and the way to
it, and I will defer my journey no longer than till to-morrow."
"Brother," said prince Perviz, "it is not proper that you, who
are the head and director of our family, should be absent. I
desire my sister would join with me to oblige you to abandon your
design, and allow me to undertake it. I hope to acquit myself as
well as you, and it will be a more regular proceeding." "I am
persuaded of your good-will, brother," replied prince Bahman,
"and that you would succeed as well as myself in this journey;
but I have resolved, and will undertake it. You shall stay at
home with our sister, and I need not recommend her to you." He
spent the remainder of the day in making preparations for his
journey, and informing himself from the princess of the
directions which the devout woman had left her.
The next morning Bahman mounted his horse, and Perviz and the
princess embraced, and wished him a good journey. But in the
midst of their adieus, the princess recollected what she had not
thought of before. "Brother," said she, "I had quite forgotten
the accidents which attend travellers. Who knows whether I shall
ever see you again? Alight, I beseech you, and give up this
journey. I would rather be deprived of the sight and possession
of the speaking bird, singing tree, and yellow water, than run
the risk of never seeing you more."
"Sister," replied Bahman, smiling at the sudden fears of the
princess, "my resolution is fixed, but were it not, I should
determine upon it now, and you must allow me to execute it. The
accidents you speak of befall only those who are unfortunate; but
there are more who are not so. However, as events are uncertain,
and I may fail in this undertaking, all I can do is to leave you
this knife."
Bahman, pulling a knife from his vestband, and presenting it in
the sheath to the princess, said, "Take this knife, sister, and
give yourself the trouble sometimes to pull it out of the sheath:
while you see it clean as it is now, it will be a sign that I am
alive; but if you find it stained with blood, then you may
believe me dead, and indulge me with your prayers."
The princess could obtain nothing more of Bahman. He bade adieu
to her and prince Perviz for the last time, and rode away. When
he got into the road he never turned to the right hand nor to the
left, but went directly forward towards India. The twentieth day
he perceived on the road side a hideous old man, who sat under a
tree some small distance from a thatched house, which was his
retreat from the weather.
His eye-brows were as white as snow, as was also the hair of his
head; his whiskers covered his mouth, and his beard and hair
reached down to his feet. The nails of his hands and feet were
grown to an extensive length; a flat broad umbrella covered his
head. He had no clothes, but only a mat thrown round his body.
This old man was a dervish, for many years retired from the
world, to give himself up entirely to the service of God; so that
at last he became what we have described.
Prince Bahman, who had been all that morning very attentive to
see if he could meet with any body who could give him information
of the place he was in search of, stopped when he came near the
dervish, alighted, in conformity to the directions which the
devout woman had given the princess Perie-zadeh, and leading his
horse by the bridle, advanced towards him, and saluting him,
said, "God prolong your days, good father, and grant you the
accomplishment of your desires."
The dervish returned the prince's salutation, but so
unintelligibly that he could not understand one word he said:
prince Bahman perceiving that this difficulty proceeded from the
dervish's whiskers hanging over his mouth, and unwilling to go
any farther without the instructions he wanted, pulled out a pair
of scissors he had about him, and having tied his horse to a
branch of the tree, said, "Good dervish, I want to have some talk
with you: but your whiskers prevent my understanding what you
say: and if you will consent, I will cut off some part of them
and of your eye-brows, which disfigure you so much that you look
more like a bear than a man."
The dervish did not oppose the offer; and when the prince had cut
off as much hair as he thought fit, he perceived that the dervish
had a good complexion, and that he did not seem so old as he
really was. "Good dervish," said he, "if I had a glass I would
shew you how young you look: you are now a man, but before nobody
could tell what you were."
The kind behaviour of prince Bahman made the dervish smile, and
return his compliment. "Sir," said he, "whoever you are, I am
obliged by the good office you have performed, and am ready to
shew my gratitude by doing any thing in my power for you. You
must have alighted here upon some account or other. Tell me what
it is, and I will endeavour to serve you."
"Good dervish," replied prince Bahman, "I am in search of the
speaking bird, the singing tree, and the yellow water; I know
these three rarities are not far from hence, but cannot tell
exactly the place where they are to be found; if you know, I
conjure you to shew me the way, that I may not lose my labour
after so long a journey."
The prince, while he spoke, observed that the dervish changed
countenance, held down his eyes, looked very serious, and instead
of making any reply, remained silent; which obliged him to say to
him again, "Good father, I fancy you heard me; tell me whether
you know what I ask you, that I may not lose my time, but inform
myself somewhere else."
At last the dervish broke silence. "Sir," said he to prince
Bahman, "I know the way you ask of me; but the regard which I
conceived for you the first moment I saw you, and which is grown
stronger by the service you have done me, kept me in suspense,
whether I should give you the satisfaction you desire." "What
motive can hinder you?" replied the prince; "and what
difficulties do you find in so doing?" "I will tell you," replied
the dervish; "the danger you are going to expose yourself to is
greater than you may suppose. A number of gentlemen of as much
bravery and courage as you can possibly possess have passed this
way, and asked me the same question. When I had used all my
endeavours to persuade them to desist, they would not believe me;
at last, I yielded, to their importunities; I was compelled to
shew them the way, and I can assure you they have all perished,
for I have not seen one come back. Therefore, if you have any
regard for your life, take my advice, go no farther, but return
home."
Prince Bahman persisted in his resolution. "I will not suppose,"
said he to the dervish, "but that your advice is sincere. I am
obliged to you for the friendship you express for me; but
whatever may be the danger, nothing shall make me change my
intention: whoever attacks me, I am well armed, and can say I am
as brave as any one." "But they who will attack you are not to be
seen," replied the dervish; "how will you defend yourself against
invisible persons?" "It is no matter," answered the prince; "all
you say shall not persuade me to do any thing contrary to my
duty. Since you know the way, I conjure you once more to inform
me."
When the dervish found he could not prevail upon prince Bahman,
and that he was obstinately bent to pursue his journey
notwithstanding his friendly remonstrance, he put his hand into a
bag that lay by him and pulled out a bowl, which he presented to
him. "Since I cannot prevail on you to attend to my advice," said
he, "take this bowl; when you are on horseback throw it before
you, and follow it to the foot of a mountain, where it will stop.
As soon as the bowl stops, alight, leave your horse with the
bridle over his neck, and he will stand in the same place till
you return. As you ascend you will see on your right and left a
great number of large black stones, and will hear on all sides a
confusion of voices, which will utter a thousand injurious abuses
to discourage you, and prevent your reaching the summit of the
mountain. Be not afraid; but above all things, do not turn your
head to look behind you; for in that instant you will be changed
into such a black stone as those you see, which are all youths
who have failed in this enterprise. If you escape the danger of
which I give you but a faint idea, and get to the top of the
mountain, you will see a cage, and in that cage is the bird you
seek; ask him which are the singing tree and the yellow water,
and he will tell you. I have nothing more to say; this is what
you have to do, and the danger you have to avoid; but if you are
prudent, you will take my advice, and not expose your life.
Consider once more while you have time that the difficulty is
almost insuperable."
"I am obliged to you for your repeated advice," replied prince
Bahman, after he had received the bowl, "but cannot follow it.
However, I will endeavour to conform myself to that part of it
which bids me not look behind me as I shall ascend the mountain,
and I hope to come and see you again soon, and thank you when I
have obtained what I am seeking." After these words, to which the
dervish made no other answer than that he should be overjoyed to
see him again, the prince mounted his horse, took his leave of
the dervish with a respectful salute, and threw the bowl before
him.
The bowl rolled away unceasingly with as much swiftness as when
prince Bahman first hurled it from his hand, which obliged him to
put his horse to the same pace to avoid losing sight of it, and
when it had reached the foot of the mountain it stopped. The
prince alighted from his horse, laid the bridle on his neck; and
having first surveyed the mountain, and seen the black stones,
began to ascend; but had not gone four steps, before he heard the
voices mentioned by the dervish, though he could see nobody. Some
said, "Where is that fool going? where is he going? what would he
have? do not let him pass." Others, "Stop him, catch him, kill
him;" and others with a voice like thunder, "Thief! assassin!
murderer!" while some in a gibing tone cried, "No, no, do not
hurt him; let the pretty fellow pass, the cage and bird are kept
for him."
Notwithstanding all these troublesome voices, prince Bahman
ascended with courage and resolution for some time, but the
voices redoubled with so loud a din near him, both behind and
before, that at last he was seized with dread, his legs trembled
under him, he staggered, and finding that his strength failed
him, he forgot the dervish's advice, turned about to run down the
hill, and was that instant changed into a black stone; a
metamorphosis which had happened to many before him, who had
attempted the ascent. His horse likewise underwent the same
change.
From the time of prince Bahman's departure, the princess Perie-zadeh
always wore the knife and sheath in her girdle, and pulled it out
several times in a day, to know whether her brother was alive. She had
the consolation to understand he was in perfect health, and to talk of
him frequently with prince Perviz, who sometimes prevented her by
asking her what news.
On the fatal day that prince Bahman was transformed into a stone,
as prince Perviz and the princess were talking together in the
evening, as usual, the prince desired his sister to pull out the
knife to know how their brother did. The princess readily
complied, and seeing the blood run down the point was seized with
so much horror that she threw it down. "Ah! my dear brother,"
cried she, "I have been the cause of your death, and shall never
see you more! Why did I tell you of the speaking bird, singing
tree, and yellow water; or rather, of what importance was it to
me to know whether the devout woman thought this house ugly or
handsome, or complete or not? I wish to Heaven she had never
addressed herself to me? Deceitful hypocrite!" added she, "is
this the return you have made for the kind reception I gave you?
Why did you tell me of a bird, a tree, and a water, which,
imaginary as I am persuaded they are, by my dear brother's death,
yet disturb me by your enchantment?"
Prince Perviz was as much afflicted at the death of prince Bahman
as the princess; but not to waste time in needless regret, as he
knew that she still passionately desired possession of the
speaking bird, the singing tree, and the golden water, he
interrupted her, saying, "Sister, our regret for our brother is
vain and useless; our grief and lamentations cannot restore him
to life; it is the will of God, we must submit to it, and adore
the decrees of the Almighty without searching into them. Why
should you now doubt of the truth of what the holy woman told
you? do you think she spoke to you of three things that were not
in being? and that she invented them on purpose to deceive you,
who had given her no cause to do so, but received her with so
much goodness and civility? Let us rather believe that our
brother's death is owing to some error on his part, or some
accident which we cannot conceive. It ought not therefore to
prevent us from pursuing our object. I offered to go this
journey, and am now more resolved than ever; his example has no
effect upon my resolution; to-morrow I will depart."
The princess did all she could to dissuade prince Perviz,
conjuring him not to expose her to the danger of losing two
brothers; but he was obstinate, and all the remonstrances she
could urge had no effect upon him. Before he went, that she might
know what success he had, he left her a string of a hundred
pearls, telling her, that if they would not run when she should
count them upon the string, but remain fixed, that would be a
certain sign he had undergone the same fate as his brother; but
at the same time told her he hoped it would never happen, but
that he should have the happiness to see her again to their
mutual satisfaction.
Prince Perviz, on the twentieth day after his departure, met the
same dervish in the same place as his brother Bahman had done
before him. He went directly up to him, and after he had saluted,
asked him, if he could tell him where to find the speaking bird,
the singing tree, and the golden water? The dervish urged the
same difficulties and remonstrances as he had done to prince
Bahman, telling him, that a young gentleman, who very much
resembled him, was with him a short time before; that, overcome
by his importunity and pressing instances, he had shewn him the
way, given him a guide, and told him how he should act to
succeed; but that he had not seen him since, and doubted not but
he had shared the same fate as all other adventurers.
"Good dervish," answered prince Perviz, "I know whom you speak
of; he was my elder brother, and I am informed of the certainty
of his death, but know not the cause." "I can tell you," replied
the dervise; "he was changed into a black stone, as all I speak
of have been; and you must expect the same transformation, unless
you observe more exactly than he has done the advice I gave him,
in case you persist in your resolution, which I once more entreat
you to renounce."
"Dervish," said prince Perviz, "I cannot sufficiently express how
much I am obliged for the concern you take in my life, who am a
stranger to you, and have done nothing to deserve your kindness:
but I thoroughly considered this enterprise before I undertook
it, and I cannot now relinquish it: therefore I beg of you to do
me the same favour you have done my brother. Perhaps I may have
better success in following your directions." "Since I cannot
prevail with you," said the dervish, "to give up your obstinate
resolution, if my age did not prevent me, and I could stand, I
would get up to reach you a bowl I have here, which will shew you
the way."
Without giving the dervish time to say more, the prince alighted
from his horse and went to the dervish, who had taken a bowl out
of his bag, in which he had a great many, and gave it him, with
the same directions he had given prince Bahman; and after warning
him not to be discouraged by the voices he should hear without
seeing any body, however threatening they might be, but to
continue his way up the hill till he saw the cage and bird, he
let him depart.
Prince Perviz thanked the dervish, and when he had remounted, and
taken leave, threw the bowl before his horse, and spurring him at
the same time, followed it. When the bowl came to the bottom of
the hill it stopped, the prince alighted, and stood some time to
recollect the dervish's directions. He encouraged himself, and
began to walk up with a resolution to reach the summit; but
before he had gone above six steps, he heard a voice, which
seemed to be near, as of a man behind him, say in an insulting
tone, "Stay, rash youth, that I may punish you for your
presumption."
Upon this affront the prince, forgetting the dervish's advice,
clapped his hand upon his sword, drew it, and turned about to
revenge himself; but had scarcely time to see that nobody
followed him before he and his horse were changed into black
stones.
In the mean time the princess Perie-zadeh, several times a day
after her brother's departure, counted her chaplet. She did not
omit it at night, but when she went to bed put it about her neck;
and in the morning when she awoke counted over the pearls again
to see if they would slide.