There was once, of old time, in one of the tribes of the Arabs, a
woman great with child by her husband, and they had a hired
servant, a man of excellent understanding. When the woman came to
[the time of her] delivery, she gave birth to a maid-child in the
night and they sought fire of the neighbours. So the journeyman
went in quest of fire.
Now there was in the camp a wise woman,[FN#11] and she questioned
him of the new-born child, if it was male or female. Quoth he,
'It is a girl;' and she said, 'She shall do whoredom with a
hundred men and a journeyman shall marry her and a spider shall
slay her.' When the journeyman heard this, he returned upon his
steps and going in to the woman, took the child from her by wile
and slit its paunch. Then he fled forth into the desert at a
venture and abode in strangerhood what [while] God willed.
He gained him wealth and returning to his native land, after
twenty years' absence, alighted in the neighbourhood of an old
woman, whom he bespoke fair and entreated with liberality,
requiring of her a wench whom he might lie withal. Quoth she, 'I
know none but a certain fair woman, who is renowned for this
fashion.'[FN#12] Then she described her charms to him and made
him lust after her, and he said, 'Hasten to her forthright and
lavish unto her that which she asketh, [in exchange for her
favours].' So the old woman betook herself to the damsel and
discovered to her the man's wishes and bade her to him; but she
answered, saying, 'It is true that I was on this [fashion of]
whoredom [aforetime]; but now I have repented to God the Most
High and hanker no more after this; nay, I desire lawful
marriage; so, if he be content with that which is lawful, I am at
his service.'
The old woman returned to the man and told him what the damsel
said; and he lusted after her, by reason of her beauty and her
repentance; so he took her to wife, and when he went in to her,
he loved her and she also loved him. On this wise they abode a
great while, till one day he questioned her of the cause of a
mark[FN#13] he espied on her body, and she said, 'I know nought
thereof save that my mother told me a marvellous thing concerning
it.' 'What was that?' asked he, and she answered, 'She avouched
that she gave birth to me one night of the nights of the winter
and despatched a hired man, who was with us, in quest of fire for
her. He was absent a little while and presently returning, took
me and slit my belly and fled. When my mother saw this,
affliction overcame her and compassion possessed her; so she
sewed up my belly and tended me till, by the ordinance of God (to
whom belong might and majesty), the wound healed up."
When her husband heard this, he said to her, 'What is thy name
and what are the names of thy father and mother?' She told him
their names and her own, whereby he knew that it was she whose
belly he had slit and said to her, 'And where are thy father and
mother?' 'They are both dead,' answered she, and he said, 'I am
that journeyman who slit thy belly.' Quoth she, 'Why didst thou
that?' And he replied, 'Because of a saying I heard from the wise
woman.' 'What was it?' asked his wife, and he said, 'She avouched
that thou wouldst play the harlot with a hundied men and that I
should after take thee to wife.' Quoth she, 'Ay, I have whored it
with a hundred men, no more and no less, and behold, thou hast
married me.' 'Moreover,' continued her husband, 'the wise woman
foresaid, also, that thou shouldst die, at the last of thy life,
of the bite of a spider. Indeed, her saying hath been verified of
the harlotry and the marriage, and I fear lest her word come true
no less in the matter of thy death.'
Then they betook themselves to a place without the city, where he
builded him a mansion of solid stone and white plaster and
stopped its inner [walls] and stuccoed them; yea, he left not
therein cranny nor crevice and set in it two serving-women to
sweep and wipe, for fear of spiders. Here he abode with his wife
a great while, till one day he espied a spider on the ceiling and
beat it down. When his wife saw it, she said, 'This is that which
the wise woman avouched would kill me; so, by thy life [I conjure
thee], suffer me to slay it with mine own hand.' Her husband
forbade her from this, but she conjured him to let her kill the
spider; then, of her fear and her eagerness, she took a piece of
wood and smote it. The wood broke in sunder, of the force of the
blow, and a splinter from it entered her hand and wrought upon
it, so that it swelled. Then her arm swelled also and the
swelling spread to her side and thence grew till it reached her
heart and she died. Nor," added the vizier, "is this more
extraordinary or more wonderful than the story of the weaver who
became a physician by his wife's commandment."
When the king heard this, his admiration redoubled and he said,
"Of a truth, destiny is forewritten to all creatures, and I will
not accept[FN#14] aught that is said against my vizier the loyal
counsellor." And he bade him go to his house.
The Twentieth Night of the Month.
When the evening evened, the king let call his vizier and he
presented himself before him, whereupon he required of him the
hearing of the [promised] story. So he said, "Hearkening and
obedience. Know, O king. that
STORY OF THE WEAVER WHO BECAME A
PHYSICIAN BY HIS WIFE'S COMMANDMENT.
There was once, in the land of Fars,[FN#15] a man who took to
wife a woman higher than himself in rank and nobler of lineage,
but she had no guardian to preserve her from want. It misliked
her to marry one who was beneath her; nevertheless, she married
him, because of need, and took of him a bond in writing to the
effect that he would still be under her commandment and
forbiddance and would nowise gainsay her in word or deed. Now the
man was a weaver and he bound himself in writing to pay his wife
ten thousand dirhems, [in case he should make default in the
condition aforesaid].
On this wise they abode a long while till one day the wife went
out in quest of water, whereof she had need, and espied a
physician who had spread a carpet in the Thereon he had set out
great store of drugs and implements of medicine and he was
speaking and muttering [charms], whilst the folk flocked to him
and compassed him about on every side. The weaver's wife
marvelled at the largeness of the physician's fortune[FN#16] and
said in herself, 'Were my husband thus, he would have an easy
life of it and that wherein we are of straitness and misery would
be enlarged unto him.'
Then she returned home, troubled and careful; and when her
husband saw her on this wise, he questioned her of her case and
she said to him, 'Verily, my breast is straitened by reason of
thee and of the simpleness of thine intent. Straitness liketh me
not and thou in thy [present] craft gaiuest nought; so either do
thou seek out a craft other than this or pay me my due[FN#17] and
let me go my way.' Her husband chid her for this and admonished
her;[FN#18] but she would not be turned from her intent and said
to him, 'Go forth and watch yonder physician how he doth and leam
from him what he saith.' Quoth he, 'Let not thy heart be
troubled: I will go every day to the physician's assembly.'
So he fell to resorting daily to the physician and committing to
memory his sayings and that which he spoke of jargon, till he had
gotten a great matter by heart, and all this he studied throughly
and digested it. Then he returned to his wife and said to her, 'I
have committed the physician's sayings to memory and have learned
his fashion of muttering and prescribing and applying
remedies[FN#19] and have gotten by heart the names of the
remedies and of all the diseases, and there abideth nought
[unaccomplished] of thy commandment. What wilt thou have me do
now?' Quoth she, 'Leave weaving and open thyself a physician's
shop.' But he answered, 'The people of my city know me and this
affair will not profit me, save in a land of strangerhood; so
come, let us go out from this city and get us to a strange land
and [there] live.' And she said, 'Do as thou wilt.'
So he arose and taking his weaving gear, sold it and bought with
the price drugs and simples and wrought himself a carpet, with
which they set out and journeyed to a certain village, where they
took up their abode. Then the man donned a physician's habit and
fell to going round about the hamlets and villages and country
parts; and he began to earn his living and make gain. Their
affairs prospered and their case was bettered; wherefore they
praised God for their present ease and the village became to them
a home.
[On this wise he abode a pretty while] and the days ceased not
and the nights to transport him from country to country, till he
came to the land of the Greeks and lighted down in a city of the
cities thereof, wherein was Galen the Sage; but the weaver knew
him not, nor was he ware who he was. So he went forth, according
to his wont, in quest of a place where the folk might assemble
together, and hired Galen's courtyard.[FN#20] There he spread his
carpet and setting out thereon his drugs and instruments of
medicine, praised himself and his skill and vaunted himself of
understanding such as none but he might claim.
Galen heard that which he avouched of his understanding and it
was certified unto him and established in his mind that the man
was a skilled physician of the physicians of the Persians and [he
said in himself], 'Except he had confidence in his knowledge and
were minded to confront me and contend with me, he had not sought
the door of my house neither spoken that which he hath spoken.'
And concern gat hold upon Galen and doubt. Then he looked out
upon[FN#21] the weaver and addressed himself to see what he
should do, whilst the folk began to flock to him and set out to
him their ailments, and he would answer them thereof [and
prescribe for them], hitting the mark one while and missing it
another, so that there appeared unto Galen of his fashion nothing
whereby his mind might be assured that he had formed a just
opinion of his skill.
Presently, up came a woman with a phial of urine, and when the
[mock] physician saw the phial afar off, he said to her, 'This is
the urine of a man, a stranger.' 'Yes,' answered she; and he
continued, 'Is he not a Jew and is not his ailment indigestion?'
'Yes,' replied the woman, and the folk marvelled at this;
wherefore the man was magnified in Galen's eyes, for that he
heard speech such as was not of the usage of physicians, seeing
that they know not urine but by shaking it and looking into it
anear neither know they a man's water from a woman's water, nor a
stranger's [from a countryman's], nor a Jew's from a
Sherifs.[FN#22] Then said the woman, 'What is the remedy?' Quoth
the weaver, 'Pay down the fee.' So she paid him a dirhem and he
gave her medicines contrary to that ailment and such as would
aggravate the patient's malady.
When Galen saw what appeared to him of the [mock] physician's
incapacity, he turned to his disciples and pupils and bade them
fetch the other, with all his gear and drugs. So they brought him
into his presence on the speediest wise, and when Galen saw him
before him, he said to him, 'Knowest thou me?' ' No,' answered
the other, 'nor did I ever set eyes on thee before this day.'
Quoth the sage, 'Dost thou know Galen?' And the weaver said,
'No.' Then said Galen, 'What prompted thee to that which thou
dost?' So he related to him his story and gave him to know of the
dowry and the obligation by which he was bound with regard to his
wife, whereat Galen marvelled and certified himself of the matter
of the dower.
Then he bade lodge him near himself and was bountiful to him and
took him apart and said to him, 'Expound to me the story of the
phial and whence then knewest that the water therein was that of
a man, and he a stranger and a Jew, and that his ailment was
indigestion?' ' It is well,' answered the weaver. ' Thou must
know that we people of Persia are skilled in physiognomy[FN#23]
and I saw the woman to be rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed and tall. Now
these attributes belong to women who are enamoured of a man and
are distraught for love of him;[FN#24] moreover, I saw her
consumed [with anxiety]; wherefore I knew that the patient was
her husband. As for his strangerhood, I observed that the woman's
attire differed from that of the people of the city, wherefore I
knew that she was a stranger; and in the mouth of the phial I
espied a yellow rag,[FN#25] whereby I knew that the patient was a
Jew and she a Jewess. Moreover, she came to me on the first day
[of the week];[FN#26] and it is the Jews' custom to take
pottages[FN#27] and meats that have been dressed overnight[FN#28]
and eat them on the Sabbath day,[FN#29] hot and cold, and they
exceed in eating; wherefore indigestion betideth them. On this
wise I was directed and guessed that which thou hast heard.'
When Galen heard this, he ordered the weaver the amount of his
wife's dowry and bade him pay it to her and divorce her.
Moreover, he forbade him from returning to the practice of physic
and warned him never again to take to wife a woman of better
condition than himself; and he gave him his spending-money and
bade him return to his [former] craft. Nor," added the vizier,
"is this more extraordinary or rarer than the story of the two
sharpers who cozened each his fellow."
When King Shah Bekht heard this, he said in himself, "How like is
this story to my present case with this vizier, who hath not his
like!" Then he bade him depart to his own house and come again at
eventide.
The Twenty-First Night of the Month.
When came the night, the vizier presented himself before the
king, who bade him relate the [promised] story. So he said,
"Hearkening and obedience. Know, Out
STORY OF THE TWO SHARPERS WHO CHEATED
EACH HIS FELLOW.
There was once, in the city of Baghdad, a man, [by name El
Merouzi,][FN#30] who was a sharper and plagued[FN#31] the folk
with his knavish tricks, and he was renowned in all quarters [for
roguery]. [He went out one day], carrying a load of sheep's dung,
and took an oath that he would not return to his lodging till he
had sold it at the price of raisins. Now there was in another
city a second sharper, [by name Er Razi,][FN#32] one of its
people, who [went out the same day], bearing a load of goat's
dung, which he had sworn that he would not sell but at the price
of dried figs.
So each of them fared on with that which was with him and gave
not over going till they met in one of the inns[FN#33] and each
complained to the other of that which he had abidden of travel
[in quest of custom] and of the lack of demand for his wares. Now
each of them had it in mind to cheat his fellow; so El Merouzi
said to Er Razi, 'Wilt thou sell me that?' 'Yes,' answered he,
and the other continued, 'And wilt thou buy that which is with
me?' Er Razi assented; so they agreed upon this and each of them
sold his fellow that which was with him [in exchange for the
other's ware]; after which they bade each other farewell and
parted. As soon as they were out of each other's sight, they
examined their loads, to see what was therein, and one of them
found that he had a load of sheep's dung and the other that he
had a load of goat's dung; whereupon each of them turned back in
quest of his fellow. They met in the inn aforesaid and laughed at
each other and cancelling their bargain, agreed to enter into
partnership and that all that they had of money and other good
should be in common between them, share and share alike.
Then said Er Razi to El Merouzi, 'Come with me to my city, for
that it is nearer [than thine].' So he went with him, and when he
came to his lodging, he said to his wife and household and
neighbours, 'This is my brother, who hath been absent in the land
of Khorassan and is come back.' And he abode with him in all
honour and worship three days' space. On the fourth day, Er Razi
said to him, 'Know, O my brother, that I purpose to do somewhat'
'What is it?' asked El Merouzi. Quoth the other, 'I mean to feign
myself dead and do thou go to the market and hire two porters and
a bier. [Then come back and take me up and go round about the
streets and markets with me and collect alms on my
account.][FN#34]
Accordingly El Merouzi repaired to the market and fetching that
which he sought, returned to Er Razi's house, where he found the
latter cast down in the vestibule, with his beard tied and his
eyes shut; and indeed, his colour was paled and his belly blown
out and his limbs relaxed. So he deemed him in truth dead and
shook him; but he spoke not; and he took a knife and pricked him
in the legs, but he stirred not. Then said Er Razi, 'What is
this, O fool?' And El Merouzi answered, 'Methought thou wast dead
in very sooth.' Quoth Er Razi, 'Get thee to seriousness and leave
jesting.' So he took him up and went with him to the market and
collected [alms] for him that day till eventide, when he carried
him back to his lodging and waited till the morrow.
Next morning, he again took up the bier and went round with it as
before, in quest of alms. Presently, the master of police, who
was of those who had given alms on account of the supposed dead
man on the previous day, met him; so he was angered and fell on
the porters and beat them and took the [supposed] dead body,
saying, 'I will bury him and earn the reward [of God].'[FN#35] So
his men took him up and carrying him to the prefecture, fetched
grave-diggers, who dug him a grave. Then they bought him a shroud
and perfumes[FN#36] and fetched an old man of the quarter, to
wash him. So he recited over him [the appointed prayers and
portions of the Koran] and laying him on the bench, washed him
and shrouded him. After he had shrouded him, he voided;[FN#37] so
he renewed the washing and went away to make his
ablutions,[FN#38] whilst all the folk departed, likewise, to make
the [obligatory] ablution, previously to the funeral.
When the dead man found himself alone, he sprang up, as he were a
Satan, and donning the washer's clothes,[FN#39] took the bowls
and water-can and wrapped them up in the napkins. Then be took
his shroud under his arm and went out. The doorkeepers thought
that he was the washer and said to him, 'Hast thou made an end of
the washing, so we may tell the Amir?' 'Yes,' answered the
sharper and made off to his lodging, where he found El Merouzi
soliciting his wife and saying to her, 'Nay, by thy life, thou
wilt never again look upon his face; for that by this time he is
buried. I myself escaped not from them but after travail and
trouble, and if he speak, they will put him to death.' Quoth she,
'And what wilt thou have of me?' 'Accomplish my desire of thee,'
answered he, 'and heal my disorder, for I am better than thy
husband.' And he fell a-toying with her.
When Er Razi heard this, he said, 'Yonder wittol lusteth after my
wife; but I will do him a mischief.' Then he rushed in upon them,
and when El Merouzi saw him, he marvelled at him and said to him,
'How didst thou make thine escape?' So he told him the trick he
had played and they abode talking of that which they had
collected from the folk [by way of alms], and indeed they had
gotten great store of money. Then said El Merouzi, 'Verily, mine
absence hath been prolonged and fain would I return to my own
country.' Quoth Er Rasi,' As thou wilt;' and the other said, 'Let
us divide the money we have gotten and do thou go with me to my
country, so I may show thee my tricks and my fashions.' 'Come
to-morrow,' replied Er Razi, 'and we will divide the money.'
So El Merouzi went away and the other turned to his wife and said
to her, 'We have gotten us great plenty of money, and yonder dog
would fain take the half of it; but this shall never be, for that
my mind hath been changed against him, since I heard him solicit
thee; wherefore I purpose to play him a trick and enjoy all the
money; and do not thou cross me.' ' It is well,' answered she,
and he said to her, '[To-morrow] at day-peep I will feign myself
dead and do thou cry out and tear thy hair, whereupon the folk
will flock to me. Then lay me out and bury me, and when the folk
are gone away [from the burial-place], do thou dig down to me and
take me; and have no fear for me, for I can abide two days in the
tomb [without hurt].' And she answered, 'Do what thou wilt.'
So, when it was the foredawn hour, she tied his beard and
spreading a veil over him, cried out, whereupon the people of the
quarter flocked to her, men and women. Presently, up came El
Merouzi, for the division of the money, and hearing the crying
[of the mourners], said, 'What is to do?" Quoth they, 'Thy
brother is dead;' and he said in himself, 'The accursed fellow
putteth a cheat on me, so he may get all the money for himself,
but I will do with him what shall soon bring him to life again.'
Then he rent the bosom of his gown and uncovered his head,
weeping and saying, 'Alas, my brother! Alas, my chief! Alas, my
lord!' And he went in to the men, who rose and condoled with him.
Then he accosted Er Razi's wife and said to her, 'How came his
death about?' 'I know not,' answered she, 'except that, when I
arose in the morning, I found him dead.' Moreover, he questioned
her of the money and good that was with her, but she said, 'I
have no knowledge of this and no tidings.'
So he sat down at the sharper's head, and said to him, 'Know, O
Razi, that I will not leave thee till after ten days and their
nights, wherein I will wake and sleep by thy grave. So arise and
be not a fool.' But he answered him not and El Merouzi [drew his
knife and] fell to sticking it into the other's hands and feet,
thinking to make him move; but [he stirred not and] he presently
grew weary of this and concluded that the sharper was dead in
good earnest. [However, he still misdoubted of the case] and said
in himself, 'This fellow is dissembling, so he may enjoy all the
money.' Therewith he addressed himself to prepare him [for
burial] and bought him perfumes and what [not else] was needed.
Then they brought him to the washing-place and El Merouzi came to
him and heating water till it boiled and bubbled and a third of
it was wasted,[FN#40] fell to pouring it on his skin, so that it
turned red and blue and blistered; but he abode still on one case
[and stirred not].
So they wrapped him in the shroud and set him on the bier. Then
they took up his bier and bearing him to the burial-place, laid
him in the grave[FN#41] and threw the earth over him; after which
the folk dispersed, but El Merouzi and the widow abode by the
tomb, weeping, and gave not over sitting till sundown, when the
woman said to him, 'Come, let us go to the house, for this
weeping will not profit us, nor will it restore the dead.' 'By
Allah,' answered the sharper, 'I will not budge hence till I have
slept and waked by this tomb ten days, with their nights!' When
she heard this his speech, she feared lest he should keep his
word and his oath, and so her husband perish; but she said in
herself, 'This fellow dissembleth: if I go away and return to my
house, he will abide by him a little while and go away.' And El
Merouzi said to her, 'Arise, thou, and go away.'
So she arose and returned to her house, whilst El Merouzi abode
in his place till the night was half spent, when he said to
himself, 'How long [is this to last]? Yet how can I let this
knavish dog die and lose the money? Methinks I were better open
the tomb on him and bring him forth and take my due of him by
dint of grievous beating and torment.' Accordingly, he dug him up
and pulled him forth of the tomb; after which he betook himself
to an orchard hard by the burial-ground and cut thence staves and
palm sticks. Then he tied the dead man's legs and came down on
him with the staff and beat him grievously; but he stirred not.
When the time grew long on him, his shoulders became weary and he
feared lest some one of the watch should pass on his round and
surprise him. So he took up Er Razi and carrying him forth of the
cemetery, stayed not till he came to the Magians' burying-place
and casting him down in a sepulchre[FN#42] there, rained heavy
blows upon him till his shoulders failed him, but the other
stirred not Then he sat down by his side and rested; after which
he rose and renewed the beating upon him, [but to no better
effect; and thus he did] till the end of the night
Now, as destiny would have it, a band of thieves, whose use it
was, whenas they had stolen aught, to resort to that place and
divide [their booty], came thither [that night], as of their
wont; and they were ten in number and had with them wealth
galore, which they were carrying. When they drew near the
sepulchre, they heard a noise of blows within it and the captain
said, 'This is a Magian whom the angels[FN#43] are tormenting.'
So they entered [the burial-ground] and when they came over
against El Merouzi, he feared lest they should be the officers of
the watch come upon him, wherefore he [arose and] fled and stood
among the tombs.[FN#44] The thieves came up to the place and
finding Er Razi bound by the feet and by him near seventy sticks,
marvelled at this with an exceeding wonderment and said, 'God
confound thee! This was sure an infidel, a man of many crimes;
for, behold, the earth hath rejected him from her womb, and by my
life, he is yet fresh! This is his first night [in the tomb] and
the angels were tormenting him but now; so whosoever of you hath
a sin upon his conscience, let him beat him, as a propitiatory
offering to God the Most High.' And the thieves said, 'We all
have sins upon our consciences.'
So each of them went up to the [supposed] dead man and dealt him
nigh upon a hundred blows, exclaiming the while, one, 'This is
for[FN#45] my father!' and another, 'This is for my grandfather!'
whilst a third said, 'This is for my brother!' and a fourth,
'This is for my mother!' And they gave not over taking turns at
him and beating him, till they were weary, what while El Merouzi
stood laughing and saying in himself, 'It is not I alone who have
entered into sin against him. There is no power and no virtue
save in God the Most High, the Supreme!'
Then the thieves addressed themselves to sharing their booty and
presently fell out concerning a sword that was among the spoil,
who should take it. Quoth the captain, 'Methinks we were better
prove it; so, if it be good, we shall know its worth, and if it
be ill, we shall know that.' And they said, 'Try it on this dead
man, for he is fresh.' So the captain took the sword and drawing
it, poised it and brandished it; but, when Er Razi saw this, he
made sure of death and said in himself, 'I have borne the washing
and the boiling water and the pricking with the knife and the
grave and its straitness and all this [beating], trusting in God
that I might be delivered from death, and [hitherto] I have been
delivered; but, as for the sword, I may not brook that, for but
one stroke of it, and I am a dead man.'
So saying, he sprang to his feet and catching up the thigh-bone
of one of the dead, cried out at the top of his voice, saying, 'O
ye dead, take them!' And he smote one of them, whilst his comrade
[El Merouzi] smote another and they cried out at them and
buffeted them on the napes of their necks; whereupon the thieves
left that which was with them of plunder and fled; and indeed
their wits forsook them [for terror] and they stayed not in their
flight till they came forth of the Magians' burial-ground and
left it a parasang's length behind them, when they halted,
trembling and affrighted for the soreness of that which had
betided them of fear and amazement at the dead.
As for Er Razi and El Merouzi, they made peace with each other
and sat down to share the booty. Quoth El Merouzi, 'I will not
give thee a dirhem of this money, till thou pay me my due of the
money that is in thy house.' And Er Razi said 'I will not do it,
nor will I subtract this from aught of my due.' So they fell out
upon this and disputed with one another and each went saying to
his fellow, 'I will not give thee a dirhem!' And words ran high
between them and contention was prolonged.
Meanwhile, when the thieves halted, one of them said to the
others, 'Let us return and see;' and the captain said, 'This
thing is impossible of the dead: never heard we that they came to
life on this wise. So let us return and take our good, for that
the dead have no occasion for good.' And they were divided in
opinion as to returning: but [presently they came to a decision
and] said, 'Indeed, our arms are gone and we cannot avail against
them and will not draw near the place where they are: only let
one of us [go thither and] look at it, and if he hear no sound of
them, let him advertise us what we shall do.' So they agreed that
they should send a man of them and assigned him [for this
service] two parts [of the booty].
Accordingly, he returned to the burial-ground and gave not over
going till he stood at the door of the sepulchre, when he heard
El Merouzi say to his fellow, 'I will not give thee a single
dirhem of the money!' The other said the like and they were
occupied with contention and mutual revilement and talk. So the
thief returned in haste to his fellows, who said, 'What is behind
thee?' Quoth he, 'Get you gone and flee for your lives and save
yourselves, O fools; for that much people of the dead are come to
life and between them are words and contention.' So the thieves
fled, whilst the two sharpers retained to Er Razi's house and
made peace with one another and laid the thieves' purchase to the
money they had gotten aforetime and lived a while of time. Nor, O
king of the age," added the vizier, "is this rarer or more
marvellous than the story of the four sharpers with the
money-changer and the ass."
When the king heard this story, he smiled and it pleased him and
he bade the vizier go away to his own house.
The Twenty-Second Night of the Month.
When the evening evened, the king summoned the vizier and
required of him the hearing of the [promised] story. So he said,
"Hearkening and obedience. Know, O king, that
STORY OF THE SHARPERS WITH THE
MONEY-CHANGER AND THE ASS.
Four sharpers once plotted against a money-changer, a man of
abounding wealth, and agreed upon a device for the taking of
somewhat of his money. So one of them took an ass and laying on
it a bag, wherein was money, lighted down at the money-changer's
shop and sought of him change for the money. The money- changer
brought out to him the change and bartered it with him, whilst
the sharper was easy with him in the matter of the exchange, so
he might give him confidence in himself. [As they were thus
engaged,] up came the [other three] sharpers and surrounded the
ass; and one of them said, '[It is] he,' and another said, 'Wait
till I look at him.' Then he fell to looking on the ass and
stroking him from his mane to his crupper; whilst the third went
up to him and handled him and felt him from head to tail, saying,
' Yes, [it is] in him.' Quoth another, ['Nay,] it is not in him.'
And they gave not over doing the like of this.
Then they accosted the owner of the ass and chaffered with him
and he said, 'I will not sell him but for ten thousand dirhems.'
They offered him a thousand dirhems; but he refused and swore
that he would not sell the ass but for that which he had said.
They ceased not to add to their bidding, till the price reached
five thousand dirhems, whilst their fellow still said, 'I will
not sell him but for ten thousand dirhems.' The money-changer
counselled him to sell, but he would not do this and said to him,
'Harkye, gaffer! Thou hast no knowledge of this ass's case.
Concern thyself with silver and gold and what pertaineth thereto
of change and exchange; for indeed the virtue of this ass passeth
thy comprehension. To every craft its craftsman and to every
means of livelihood its folk.'
When the affair was prolonged upon the three sharpers, they went
away and sat down a little apart; then they came up to the
money-changer privily and said to him, 'If thou canst buy him for
us, do so, and we will give thee a score of dirhems.' Quoth he,
'Go away and sit down afar from him.' So they did his bidding and
the money-changer went up to the owner of the ass and gave not
over tempting him with money and cajoling him and saying, 'Leave
yonder fellows and sell me the ass, and I will reckon him a gift
from thee,' till he consented to sell him the ass for five
thousand and five hundred dirhems. Accordingly the money-changer
counted down to him five thousand and five hundred dirhems of his
own money, and the owner of the ass took the price and delivered
the ass to him, saying, 'Whatsoever betideth, though he abide a
deposit about thy neck,[FN#46] sell him not to yonder rogues for
less than ten thousand dirhems, for that they would fain buy him
because of a hidden treasure whereof they know, and nought can
guide them thereto but this ass. So close thy hand on him and
gainsay me not, or thou wilt repent.'
So saying, he left him and went away, whereupon up came the three
other sharpers, the comrades of him of the ass, and said to the
money-changer, 'God requite thee for us with good, for that thou
hast bought him! How can we requite thee!' Quoth he, 'I will not
sell him but for ten thousand dirhems.' When they heard this,
they returned to the ass and fell again to examining him and
handling him. Then said they to the money-changer, 'We were
mistaken in him. This is not the ass we sought and he is not
worth more than half a score paras to us.' Then they left him and
offered to go away, whereat the money-changer was sore chagrined
and cried out at their speech, saying, 'O folk, ye besought me to
buy him for you and now I have bought him, ye say, "We were
deceived [in him], and he is not worth more than ten paras to
us."' Quoth they, 'We supposed that in him was that which we
desired; but, behold, in him is the contrary of that which we
want; and indeed he hath a default, for that he is short of
back.' And they scoffed at him and went away from him and
dispersed.
The money-changer thought they did but finesse with him, that
they might get the ass at their own price; but, when they went
away from him and he had long in vain awaited their return, he
cried out, saying, 'Woe!' and 'Ruin!' and 'Alack, my sorry
chance!' and shrieked aloud and tore his clothes. So the people
of the market assembled to him and questioned him of his case;
whereupon he acquainted them with his plight and told them what
the sharpers had said and how they had beguiled him and how it
was they who had cajoled him into buying an ass worth half a
hundred dirhems[FN#47] for five thousand and five hundred.[FN#48]
His friends blamed him and a company of the folk laughed at him
and marvelled at his folly and his credulity in accepting the
sharpers' talk, without suspicion, and meddling with that which
he understood not and thrusting himself into that whereof he was
not assured.
On this wise, O King Shah Bekht," continued the vizier, "is the
issue of eagerness for [the goods of] the world and covetise of
that which our knowledge embraceth not; indeed, [whoso doth thus]
shall perish and repent Nor, O king of the age, (added he) is
this story more extraordinary than that of the sharper and the
merchants."
When the king heard this story, he said in himself, "Verily, had
I given ear to the sayings of my courtiers and inclined to the
idle prate [of those who counselled me] in the matter of [the
slaying of] my vizier, I had repented to the utterest of
repentance, but praised be God, who hath disposed me to
mansuetude and long-suffering and hath endowed me with patience!"
Then he turned to the vizier and bade him return to his dwelling
and [dismissed] those who were present, as of wont.
The Twenty-Third Night of the Month.
When the evening evened, the king sent after the vizier and when
he presented himself before him, he required of him the hearing
of the [promised] story. So he said, "Hearkening and obedience.
Know, O illustrious lord, that