stool, and ordered her slave to open the gate. Upon her husband's
entering the room he was surprised at beholding things set out
for an entertainment, and inquired who had been with her; when
she replied tartly, "A lover." "And where is he now?" angrily
replied the officer. "In yonder chamber, and if you please you
may sacrifice him to your fury, and myself afterwards." The
officer demanded the key, which she gave him; but while this was
passing, the agony of the unfortunate tailor was worse than
death; he fully expecting every moment to have his head struck
off: in short, he was in a most pitiable condition. The officer
went to the door, and had put the key into the lock, when his
wife burst suddenly into a fit of laughter: upon which he
exclaimed angrily, "Who do you laugh at?" "Why, at yourself, to
be sure, my wise lord," replied the lady; "for who but yourself
could suppose a woman serious when she told him where to find out
a concealed lover? I wanted to discover how far jealousy would
carry you, and invented this trick for the purpose," The officer,
upon this, was struck with admiration of his wife's pleasantry
and his own credulity, which so tickled his fancy that he laughed
immoderately, begged pardon for his foolish conduct, and they
spent the evening cheerfully together; after which, the husband
going to the bath, his wife charitably released the almost dead
tailor, and reproving him for his impertinence, declared if he
ever again looked up at her balcony she would contrive his death.
The tailor, perfectly cured of love for his superior in life,
made the most abject submission, thanked her for his deliverance,
hurried home, prayed heartily for his escape, and the very next
day took care to move from so dangerous a neighbourhood.
The husband and wife were highly diverted with the cauzee's story,
and after another dance permitted him to depart, and get home as
well as he could in his ridiculous habit. How he got there, and
what excuse he was able to make for so unmagisterial an
appearance, we are not informed; but strange whispers went about
the city, and the cauzee's dance became the favourite one or the
strolling drolls, whom he had often the mortification of seeing
taking him off as he passed to and from the tribunal, and not
unfrequently in causes of adultery the evidences and culprits
would laugh in his face. He, however, never again suffered Satan
to tempt him, and was scarcely able to look at a strange woman,
so great was his fear of being led astray.
When the cauzee was gone, the lady, repairing to the apartment,
brought out the grave tax-collector, whom her husband addressed
by name, saying, "Venerable sir, how long have you turned droll?
can you favour me with a dance?" The tax-collector made no reply,
but began capering, nor was he permitted to stop till quite
tired. He was then allowed to sit, some refreshment was given
him, and when revived he was desired to tell a story: knowing
resistance vain, he complied. After having finished he was
dismissed, and the other gallants were brought in and treated in
a like manner.
STORY OF THE MERCHANT, HIS DAUGHTER, AND
THE PRINCE OF EERAUK.
A certain rich merchant was constantly repining, because
Providence had not added to his numerous blessings that of a
child to inherit his vast wealth. This want destroyed the power
of affluence to make him happy, and he importuned heaven with
unceasing prayers. At length one evening, just as he had
concluded his devotions, he heard a voice, saying, "Thy request
has been heard, and thou wilt have a daughter, but she will give
thee much uneasiness in her fourteenth year by an amour with the
prince of Eerauk, and remember there is no avoiding the decrees
of fate."
The merchant's wife that same night conceived, and at the usual
time brought forth a daughter, who grew up an exquisite beauty.
No pains were spared in her education, so that at thirteen she
became most accomplished, and the fame of her charms and
perfections was spread throughout the city. The merchant enjoyed
the graces of his child, but at the same time his heart was heavy
with anxiety for her fate, whenever he called to mind the
prediction concerning her; so that at length he determined to
consult a celebrated dervish, his friend, on the possible means
of averting the fulfilment of the prophecy. The dervish gave him
but little hopes of being able to counteract the will of heaven,
but advised him to carry the beautiful maiden to a sequestered
mansion, situated among unfrequented mountains surrounding it on
all sides, and the only entrance to which was by a dark cavern
hewn out of the solid rock, which might be safely guarded by a
few faithful domestics. "Here," said the dervish, "your daughter
may pass the predicted year, and if any human care can avail she
may be thus saved from the threatened dishonour; but it is in
vain for man to fight against the arms of heaven, therefore
prepare thy mind for resignation to its decrees."
The merchant followed the advice of his friend, and having made
the necessary preparations, accompanied by him, and attended by
some white and black slaves of both sexes, arrived, after a
month's journey, with his daughter, at the desired mansion; in
which having placed her, he, after a day's repose, took his
departure homewards with the dervish. Ample stores of all
necessaries for her accommodation had been laid in, and slaves
male and female were left for her attendance and protection. Not
many days, had elapsed when an incident occurred, clearly proving
the emptiness of human caution against the predestination of
fate. The prince of Eerauk being upon a hunting excursion outrode
his attendants, and missing his way, reached the gate of the
cavern leading to the mansion, which was guarded by two black
slaves, who seeing a stranger, cried out to him to withdraw. He
stopped his horse, and in a supplicating tone requested
protection and refreshment for the night, as he had wandered from
the road, and was almost exhausted from weariness and want of
food. The slaves were moved by the representation of his
distress, as well as awed by his noble appearance, and
apprehending no danger from a single person, conducted him
through the cavern, into the beautiful valley, in which stood the
mansion. They then informed their mistress of his arrival, who
commanded him to be introduced into an apartment, in which an
elegant entertainment was provided, where she gave him the most
hospitable reception. To become known to each other was to love;
nor was it long ere the prediction respecting the merchant's
daughter proved fully verified. Some months passed in mutual
happiness; when the prince, becoming anxious to return to his
friends, took leave of his mistress, promising when he had seen
his family to visit her again, and make her his wife.
On his way he met the merchant, who was coming to see his
daughter. Halting at the same spot they fell into conversation,
in which each inquired after the other's situation, and the
prince, little aware to whom he was speaking, related his late
adventure. The merchant, convinced that all his caution had been
vain, concealed his uneasiness, resolved to take his daughter
home, make the best of what had happened, and never again to
struggle against fate. On his arrival at the cavern he found his
daughter unwell; and before they reached their own abode she was
delivered of a male infant, who, to save her credit, was left
exposed in a small tent with a sum of money laid under its
pillow, in hopes that the first passenger would take the child
under his care. It so happened, that a caravan passing by, the
leader of it, on examining the tent and seeing the infant, took
it up, and having no children adopted it as his own. The prince
of Eerauk having seen his parents, again repaired to visit his
beautiful mistress, and on his journey to the cavern once more
met the merchant, who, at his daughter's request, was travelling
towards Eerauk to acquaint him with her situation. The prince,
overjoyed, accompanied the merchant home, married the young lady,
and with her parents returned to his dominions. Their exposed
son, after long inquiry, was discovered, and liberal rewards
bestowed on the leader of the caravan, who at his own request was
permitted to reside in the palace of Eerauk, and superintend the
education of his adopted son.
ADVENTURES OF THE CAUZEE, HIS WIFE, &c.
In the capital of Bagdad there was formerly a cauzee, who filled
the seat of justice with the purest integrity, and who by his
example in private life gave force to the strictness of his
public decrees. After some years spent in this honourable post,
he became anxious to make the pilgrimage to Mecca; and having
obtained permission of the caliph, departed on his pious journey,
leaving his wife, a beautiful woman, under the protection of his
brother, who promised to respect her as his daughter. The cauzee,
however, had not long left home, when the brother, instigated by
passion, made love to his sister-in-law, which she rejected with
scorn; being, however, unwilling to expose so near a relative to
her husband, she endeavoured to divert him from his purpose by
argument on the heinousness of his intended crime, but in vain.
The abominable wretch, instead of repenting, a gain and again
offered his love, and at last threatened, if she would not accept
his love, to accuse her of adultery, and bring upon her the
punishment of the law. This threat having no effect, the
atrocious villain suborned evidences to swear that they had seen
her in the act of infidelity, and she was sentenced to receive
one hundred strokes with a knotted whip, and be banished from the
city. Having endured this disgraceful punishment, the unhappy
lady was led through Bagdad by the public executioner, amid the
taunts and scorns of the populace; after which she was thrust oat
of the gates and left to shift for herself. Relying on
Providence, and without complaining of its decrees, she resolved
to travel to Mecca, in hopes of meeting her husband, and clearing
her defamed character to him, whose opinion alone she valued.
When advanced some days on her journey she entered a city, and
perceived a great crowd of people following the executioner, who
led a young man by a rope tied about his neck. Inquiring the
crime of the culprit, she was informed that he owed a hundred
deenars, which being unable to pay, he was sentenced to be hung,
such being the punishment of insolvent debtors in that city. The
cauzee's wife, moved with compassion, immediately tendered the
sum, being nearly all she had, when the young man was released,
and falling upon his knees before her, vowed to dedicate his life
to her service. She related to him her intention of making the
pilgrimage to Mecca, upon which the young man requested to
accompany and protect her, to which she consented. They set out
on their journey; but had not proceeded many days, when the youth
forgot his obligations, and giving way to impulse, insulted his
benefactress by offering her his love. The unfortunate lady
reasoned with him on the ingratitude of his conduct, and the
youth seemed to be convinced and repentant, but revenge rankled
in his heart. Some days after this they reached the sea-shore,
where the young man perceiving a ship, made a signal to speak
with it, and the master letting down his boat sent it to land;
upon which the young man going on board the vessel, informed the
master that he had for sale a handsome female slave, for whom he
asked a thousand deenars. The master, who had been used to
purchase slaves upon that coast, went on shore, and looking at
the cauzee's wife, paid the money to the wicked young man, who
went his way, and the lady was carried on board the ship,
supposing that her companion had taken the opportunity of easing
her fatigue, by procuring her a passage to some sea-port near
Mecca: but her persecution was not to end here. In the evening
she was insulted by attentions of the master of the vessel, who
being surprised at her coolness, informed her that he had
purchased her as his slave for a thousand deenars. The
unfortunate lady told him that she was a free woman, but this had
no effect on the brutish sailor, who finding tenderness
ineffectual proceeded to force and blows in order to reduce her
to submit to his authority. Her strength was almost exhausted,
when suddenly the ship struck upon a rock, the master was hurried
upon deck, and in a few moments the vessel went to pieces.
Providentially the virtuous wife laying hold of a plank was
wafted to the shore, after being for several hours buffeted by
the waves. Having recovered her senses she walked inland, and
found a pleasant country abounding in fruits and clear streams,
which satisfied her hunger and thirst. On the second day she
arrived at a magnificent city, and on entering it was conducted
to the sultan, who inquiring her story, she informed him that she
was a woman devoted to a religious life, and was proceeding on
the pilgrimage to Mecca, when her vessel was shipwrecked on his
coast, and whether any of the crew had escaped she knew not, as
she had seen none of them since her being cast ashore on a plank;
but as now the hopes of her reaching the sacred house were cut
off, if the sultan would allot her a small hut, and a trifling
pittance for her support, she would spend the remainder of her
days in prayers for the prosperity of himself and his subjects.
The sultan, who was truly devout, and pitied the misfortune of
the lady, gladly acceded to her request, and allotted a pleasant
garden-house near his palace for her residence, at which he often
visited her, and conversed with her on religious topics, to his
great edification and comfort, for she was sensibly pious. Not
long after her arrival, several refractory vassals who had for
years withheld their usual tribute, and against whom the good
sultan, unwilling to shed blood, though his treasury much felt
the defalcation, had not sent a force to compel payment,
unexpectedly sent in their arrears; submissively begged pardon
for their late disobedience, and promised in future to be loyal
in their duty. The sultan, who attributed this fortunate event to
the successful prayers of his virtuous guest, mentioned his
opinion to his courtiers in full divan, and they to their
dependents. As, according to the proverb, the sheep always follow
their leader, so it was in the present instance. All ranks of
people on every emergency flocked to beg the prayers and counsel
of the sultan's favourite devotee; and such was their efficacy,
that her clients every day became more numerous, nor were they
ungrateful; so that in a short time the offerings made to her
amounted in value to an incalculable sum. Her reputation was not
confined to the kingdom of her protector, but spread gradually
abroad through all the countries in the possession of true
believers, who came from all parts of Asia to solicit her
prayers. Her residence was enlarged to a vast extent, in which
she supported great numbers of destitute persons, as well as
entertained the crowds of poor people who came in pilgrimage to
so holy a personage as she was now esteemed. But we must now
return to her pious husband.
The good cauzee having finished the ceremonies of his pilgrimage
at Mecca, where he resided one year, and visited all the holy
spots around, returned to Bagdad: but dreadful was his agony and
grief when informed that his wife had played the harlot, and that
his brother, unable to bear the disgrace of his family, had left
the city, and had not been heard of since. This sad intelligence
had such an effect upon his mind, that he resolved to give up
worldly concerns, and adopt the life of a wandering religious, to
move from place to place, from country to country, and visit the
devotees celebrated for sanctity in each. For two years he
travelled through various kingdoms, and at length hearing of his
wife's fame, though he little supposed the much-talked-of female
saint stood in that relation to himself, he resolved to pay his
respects to so holy a personage. With this view he journeyed
towards the capital of the sultan her protector, hoping to
receive benefit from her pious conversation and prayers.
The cauzee on his way overtook his treacherous brother, who,
repenting of his wicked life, had turned mendicant, and was going
to confess his sins, and ask the prayers for absolution of the
far-famed religious woman. Time and alteration of dress, for they
were both habited as dervishes, caused the brothers not to know
each other. As fellow travellers they entered into conversation;
and finding they were both bound the same way, agreed to continue
their journey together. They had not proceeded many days when
they came up with a driver of camels, who informed them that he
was upon the same errand as themselves, having been guilty of a
horrid crime, the reflection upon which tormented his conscience,
and made life miserable; that he was going to confess his sins to
the pious devotee, and consult her on whatever penance could
atone for his villany, of which he had heartily repented, and
hoped to obtain the mercy of heaven by a sincere reformation of
life. The crime of this wretch was no less than murder; the
circumstances of which we forgot to detail in its proper place.
The cauzee's wife immediately after her expulsion from Bagdad,
and before she had met the young man who sold her for a slave,
had taken shelter in the hut of a camel breeder, whose wife owed
her great obligations, and who received her with true hospitality
and kindness; consoling her in her misfortunes, dressing her
wounds, and insisting on her stay till she should be fully
recovered of the painful effects of her unjust and disgraceful
punishment; and in this she was seconded by the honest husband.
With this humble couple, who had an infant son, she remained some
time, and was recovering her spirits and beauty when the wicked
camel breeder, first mentioned, arrived on a visit to her host;
and being struck with her beauty made love to her, which she
mildly but firmly rejected, informing him that she was a married
woman. Blinded by passion, the wretch pressed his addresses
repeatedly, but in vain; till at length, irritated by refusal, he
changed his love into furious anger, and resolved to revenge his
disappointed lust by her death. With this view he armed himself
with a poniard; and about midnight, when the family were asleep,
stole into the chamber where she reposed, and close by her the
infant son of her generous host. The villain being in the dark
made a random stroke, not knowing of the infant, and instead of
stabbing the object of his revenge, plunged his weapon into the
bosom of the child, who uttered loud screams; upon which the
assassin, fearful of detection, ran away, and escaped from the
house. The cauzee's wife awaking in a fright, alarmed her unhappy
hosts, who, striking a light, came to her assistance; but how can
we describe their agonizing affliction when they beheld their
beloved child expiring, and their unfortunate guest, who had
swooned away, bathed in the infant's blood. From such a scene we
turn away, as the pen is incapable of description. The unhappy
lady at length revived, but their darling boy was gone for ever.
Some days after this tragical event she began her pilgrimage,
and, as above stated, reached the city where she released the
young man from his cruel creditors, and was shortly afterwards
ungratefully sold by him as a slave. But to return to the good
cauzee and his wicked companions.
They had not travelled far when they overtook a young man, who
saluted them, and inquired their course; of which being informed,
he begged to join in company, saying, that he also was going to
pay his respects to the celebrated religious, in hopes that by
her prayers he might obtain pardon of God for a most flagitious
ingratitude; the remorse for which had rendered him a burthen to
himself ever since the commission of the crime. The four pilgrims
pursued their journey, and a few days afterwards overtook the
master of a vessel, who told them he had some time back suffered
shipwreck; since which he had undergone the severest distress,
and was now going to request the aid of the far-famed woman,
whose charities and miraculous prayers had been noised abroad
through all countries. The companions then invited him to join
them, and they proceeded on the pilgrimage together, till at
length they reached the capital of the good sultan who protected
the cauzee's wife.