Contents of The Third Volume.
Breslau Text.
16. Noureddin Ali of Damascus and the Damsel Sitt El Milah
17. El Abbas and the King's Daughter of Baghdad
18. The Two Kings and the Vizier's Daughters
19. The Favourite and Her Lover
20. The Merchant of Cairo and the Favourite of the Khalif El
Mamoun El Hakim Bi Amrillah
Conclusion
Calcutta (1814-18) Text.
21. Story of Sindbad the Sailor and Hindbad the Porter
a. The Sixth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor
b. The Seventh Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor
Note
Table of Contents of the Calcutta (1839-42) and Boulac Editions
Table of Contents of the Breslau Edition
Table of Contents of the Calcutta Edition
Alphabetical Table of the First Lines of the Verse in the "Tales
from the Arabic"
Index to the Names of the "Tales from the Arabic"
Breslau Text.
NOUREDDIN ALI OF DAMASCUS AND THE
DAMSEL SITT EL MILAH.[FN#1]
There was once, of old days and in bygone ages and times, a
merchant of the merchants of Damascus, by name Aboulhusn, who had
money and riches and slaves and slave-girls and lands and houses
and baths; but he was not blessed with a child and indeed his
years waxed great; wherefore he addressed himself to supplicate
God the Most High in private and in public and in his inclining
and his prostration and at the season of the call to prayer,
beseeching Him to vouchsafe him, before his admittance [to His
mercy], a son who should inherit his wealth and possessions; and
God answered his prayer. So his wife conceived and the days of
her pregnancy were accomplished and her months and her nights and
the pangs of her travail came upon her and she gave birth to a
male child, as he were a piece of the moon. He had not his match
for beauty and he put to shame the sun and the resplendent moon;
for he had a shining face and black eyes of Babylonian
witchery[FN#2] and aquiline nose and ruby lips; brief, he was
perfect of attributes, the loveliest of the folk of his time,
without doubt or gainsaying.
His father rejoiced in him with the utmost joy and his heart was
solaced and he was glad; and he made banquets to the folk and
clad the poor and the widows. He named the boy Sidi[FN#3]
Noureddin Ali and reared him in fondness and delight among the
slaves and servants. When he came to seven years of age, his
father put him to school, where he learned the sublime Koran and
the arts of writing and reckoning: and when he reached his tenth
year, he learned horsemanship and archery and to occupy himself
with arts and sciences of all kinds, part and parts.[FN#4] He
grew up pleasant and subtle and goodly and lovesome, ravishing
all who beheld him, and inclined to companying with brethren and
comrades and mixing with merchants and travellers. From these
latter he heard tell of that which they had seen of the marvels
of the cities in their travels and heard them say, "He who
leaveth not his native land diverteth not himself [with the sight
of the marvels of the world,] and especially of the city of
Baghdad."
So he was concerned with an exceeding concern for his lack of
travel and discovered this to his father, who said to him, "O my
son, why do I see thee chagrined?" And he answered, "I would fain
travel." Quoth Aboulhusn, "O my son, none travelleth save those
whose occasion is urgent and those who are compelled thereunto
[by need]. As for thee, O my son, thou enjoyest ample fortune; so
do thou content thyself with that which God hath given thee and
be bounteous [unto others], even as He hath been bounteous unto
thee; and afflict not thyself with the toil and hardship of
travel, for indeed it is said that travel is a piece of
torment."[FN#5] But the youth said, "Needs must I travel to
Baghdad, the abode of peace."
When his father saw the strength of his determination to travel,
he fell in with his wishes and equipped him with five thousand
dinars in cash and the like in merchandise and sent with him two
serving-men. So the youth set out, trusting in the blessing of
God the Most High, and his father went out with him, to take
leave of him, and returned [to Damascus]. As for Noureddin Ali,
he gave not over travelling days and nights till he entered the
city of Baghdad and laying up his loads in the caravanserai, made
for the bath, where he did away that which was upon him of the
dirt of the road and putting off his travelling clothes, donned a
costly suit of Yemen stuff, worth an hundred dinars. Then he put
in his sleeve[FN#6] a thousand mithcals[FN#7] of gold and sallied
forth a-walking and swaying gracefully as he went. His gait
confounded all those who beheld him, as he shamed the branches
with his shape and belittled the rose with the redness of his
cheeks and his black eyes of Babylonian witchcraft; indeed, thou
wouldst deem that whoso looked on him would surely be preserved
from calamity; [for he was] even as saith of him one of his
describers in the following verses:
Thy haters say and those who malice to thee bear A true word,
profiting its hearers everywhere;
"The glory's not in those whom raiment rich makes fair, But those
who still adorn the raiment that they wear."
So he went walking in the thoroughfares of the city and viewing
its ordinance and its markets and thoroughfares and gazing on its
folk. Presently, Abou Nuwas met him. (Now he was of those of whom
it is said, "They love the fair,"[FN#8] and indeed there is said
what is said concerning him.[FN#9] When he saw Noureddin Ali, he
stared at him in amazement and exclaimed, "Say, I take refuge
with the Lord of the Daybreak!"[FN#10] Then he accosted the young
Damascene and saluting him, said to him, "Why do I see my lord
alone and forlorn? Meseemeth thou art a stranger and knowest not
this country; so, with my lord's permission, I will put myself at
his service and acquaint him with the streets, for that I know
this city." Quoth Noureddin, "This will be of thy favour, O
uncle." Whereat Abou Nuwas rejoiced and fared on with him,
showing him the markets and thoroughfares, till they came to the
house of a slave-dealer, where he stopped and said to the youth,
"From what city art thou?" "From Damascus," answered Noureddin;
and Abou Nuwas said, "By Allah, thou art from a blessed city,
even as saith of it the poet in the following verses:
Damascus is all gardens decked for the pleasance of the eyes; For
the seeker there are black-eyed girls and boys of Paradise."
Noureddin thanked him and they entered the slave-merchant's
house. When the people of the house saw Abou Nuwas, they rose to
do him worship, for that which they knew of his station with the
Commander of the Faithful. Moreover, the slave-dealer himself
came up to them with two chairs, and they seated themselves
thereon. Then the slave-merchant went into the house and
returning with the slave-girl, as she were a willow-wand or a
bamboo-cane, clad in a vest of damask silk and tired with a black
and white turban, the ends whereof fell down over her face,
seated her on a chair of ebony; after which quoth he to those who
were present, "I will discover to you a face as it were a full
moon breaking forth from under a cloud." And they said, "Do so."
So he unveiled the damsel's face and behold, she was like the
shining sun, with comely shape and day-bright face and slender
[waist and heavy] hips; brief, she was endowed with elegance, the
description whereof existeth not, [and was] even as saith of her
the poet:
A fair one, to idolaters if she herself should show, They'd leave
their idols and her face for only Lord would know;
And if into the briny sea one day she chanced to spit, Assuredly
the salt sea's floods straight fresh and sweet would grow.
The dealer stood at her head and one of the merchants said, "I
bid a thousand dinars for her." Quoth another, "I bid eleven
hundred dinars;" [and a third, "I bid twelve hundred"]. Then said
a fourth merchant, "Be she mine for fourteen hundred dinars." And
the biddings stood still at that sum. Quoth her owner, "I will
not sell her save with her consent. If she desire to be sold, I
will sell her to whom she willeth." And the slave-dealer said to
him, "What is her name?" "Her name is Sitt el Milah,"[FN#11]
answered the other; whereupon the dealer said to her, "By thy
leave, I will sell thee to yonder merchant for this price of
fourteen hundred dinars." Quoth she, "Come hither to me." So he
came up to her and when he drew near, she gave him a kick with
her foot and cast him to the ground, saying, "I will not have
that old man." The slave-dealer arose, shaking the dust from his
clothes and head, and said, "Who biddeth more? Who is desirous
[of buying?]" Quoth one of the merchants, "I," and the dealer
said to her, "O Sitt el Milah, shall I sell thee to this
merchant?" "Come hither to me," answered she; but he said "Nay;
speak and I will hearken to thee from my place, for I will not
trust myself to thee," And she said, "I will not have him."
Then he looked at her and seeing her eyes fixed on the young
Damascene, for that in very deed he had ravished her with his
beauty and grace, went up to the latter and said to him, "O my
lord, art thou a looker-on or a buyer? Tell me." Quoth Noureddin,
"I am both looker-on and buyer. Wilt thou sell me yonder
slave-girl for sixteen hundred dinars?" And he pulled out the
purse of gold. So the dealer returned, dancing and clapping his
hands and saying, "So be it, so be it, or not [at all]!" Then he
came to the damsel and said to her, "O Sitt el Milah, shall I
sell thee to yonder young Damascene for sixteen hundred dinars?"
But she answered, "No," of shamefastness before her master and
the bystanders; whereupon the people of the bazaar and the
slave-merchant departed, and Abou Nuwas and Ali Noureddin arose
and went each his own way, whilst the damsel returned to her
master's house, full of love for the young Damascene.
When the night darkened on her, she called him to mind and her
heart clave to him and sleep visited her not; and on this wise
she abode days and nights, till she sickened and abstained from
food. So her lord went in to her and said to her, "O Sitt el
Milah, how findest thou thyself?" "O my lord," answered she, "I
am dead without recourse and I beseech thee to bring me my
shroud, so I may look on it before my death." Therewithal he went
out from her, sore concerned for her, and betook himself to a
friend of his, a draper, who had been present on the day when the
damsel was cried [for sale]. Quoth his friend to him, "Why do I
see thee troubled?" And he answered, "Sitt el Milah is at the
point of death and these three days she hath neither eaten nor
drunken. I questioned her to-day of her case and she said, 'O my
lord, buy me a shroud, so I may look on it before my death.'"
Quoth the draper, "Methinks nought ails her but that she is
enamoured of the young Damascene and I counsel thee to mention
his name to her and avouch to her that he hath foregathered with
thee on her account and is desirous of coming to thy house, so he
may hear somewhat of her singing. If she say, 'I reck not of him,
for there is that to do with me which distracteth me from the
Damascene and from other than he,' know that she saith sooth
concerning her sickness; but, if she say to thee other than this,
acquaint me therewith.'"
So the man returned to his lodging and going in to his
slave-girl, said to her, "O Sitt el Milah, I went out on thine
occasion and there met me the young man of Damascus, and he
saluted me and saluteth thee. Indeed, he seeketh to win thy
favour and would fain be a guest in our dwelling, so thou mayst
let him hear somewhat of thy singing." When she heard speak of
the young Damascene, she gave a sob, that her soul was like to
depart her body, and answered, saying, "He knoweth my plight and
is ware that these three days past I have eaten not nor drunken,
and I beseech thee, O my lord, by the Great God, to accomplish
the stranger his due and bring him to my lodging and make excuse
to him for me."
When her master heard this, his reason fled for joy and he went
to his friend the draper and said to him, "Thou wast right in the
matter of the damsel, for that she is enamoured of the young
Damascene; so how shall I do?" Quoth the other, "Go to the bazaar
and when thou seest him, salute him and say to him, 'Indeed, thy
departure the other day, without accomplishing thine occasion,
was grievous to me; so, if thou be still minded to buy the girl,
I will abate thee an hundred dinars of that which thou badest for
her, by way of hospitable entreatment of thee and making myself
agreeable to thee; for that thou art a stranger in our land.' If
he say to thee, 'I have no desire for her' and hold off from
thee, know that he will not buy; in which case, let me know, so I
may contrive thee another device; and if he say to thee other
than this, conceal not from me aught.
So the girl's owner betook himself to the bazaar, where he found
the youth seated at the upper end of the merchants' place of
session, selling and buying and taking and giving, as he were the
moon on the night of its full, and saluted him. The young man
returned his salutation and he said to him, "O my lord, be not
thou vexed at the girl's speech the other day, for her price
shall be less than that [which thou badest], to the intent that I
may propitiate thy favour. If thou desire her for nought, I will
send her to thee, or if thou wouldst have me abate thee of her
price, I will well, for I desire nought but what shall content
thee; for that thou art a stranger in our land and it behoveth us
to entreat thee hospitably and have consideration for thee." "By
Allah," answered the youth, "I will not take her from thee but at
an advance on that which I bade thee for her aforetime; so wilt
thou now sell her to me for seventeen hundred dinars?" And the
other answered," O my lord, I sell her to thee, may God bless
thee in her."
So the young man went to his lodging and fetching a purse,
returned to the girl's owner and counted out to him the price
aforesaid, whilst the draper was between them. Then said he,
"Bring her forth;" but the other answered, "She cannot come forth
at this present; but be thou my guest the rest of this day and
night, and on the morrow thou shall take thy slave-girl and go in
the protection of God." The youth fell in with him of this and he
carried him to his house, where, after a little, he let bring
meat and wine, and they [ate and] drank. Then said Noureddin to
the girl's owner, "I beseech thee bring me the damsel, for that I
bought her not but for the like of this time." So he arose and
[going in to the girl], said to her, "O Sitt el Milan, the young
man hath paid down thy price and we have bidden him hither; so he
hath come to our dwelling and we have entertained him, and he
would fain have thee be present with him."
Therewithal the damsel rose briskly and putting off her clothes,
washed and donned sumptuous apparel and perfumed herself and went
out to him, as she were a willow-wand or a bamboo-cane, followed
by a black slave girl, bearing the lute. When she came to the
young man, she saluted him and sat down by his side. Then she
took the lute from the slave-girl and tuning it, smote thereon in
four-and-twenty modes, after which she returned to the first mode
and sang the following verses:
Unto me the world's whole gladness is thy nearness and thy sight;
All incumbent thy possession and thy love a law of right.
In my tears I have a witness; when I call thee to my mind, Down
my cheeks they run like torrents, and I cannot stay their
flight.
None, by Allah, 'mongst all creatures, none I love save thee
alone! Yea, for I am grown thy bondman, by the troth betwixt
us plight.
Peace upon thee! Ah, how bitter were the severance from thee! Be
not this thy troth-plight's ending nor the last of our
delight!
Therewithal the young man was moved to delight and exclaimed, "By
Allah, thou sayest well, O Sitt el Milan! Let me hear more." Then
he handselled her with fifty dinars and they drank and the cups
went round among them; and her seller said to her, "O Sitt el
Milah, this is the season of leave-taking; so let us hear
somewhat on the subject." Accordingly she struck the lute and
avouching that which was in her heart, sang the following verses:
I am filled full of longing pain and memory and dole, That from
the wasted body's wounds distract the anguished soul.
Think not, my lords, that I forget: the case is still the same.
When such a fever fills the heart, what leach can make it
whole?
And if a creature in his tears could swim, as in a sea, I to do
this of all that breathe were surely first and sole.
O skinker of the wine of woe, turn from a love-sick maid, Who
drinks her tears still, night and morn, thy bitter-flavoured
bowl.
I had not left you, had I known that severance would prove My
death; but what is past is past, Fate stoops to no control.
As they were thus in the enjoyment of all that in most delicious
of easance and delight, and indeed the wine was sweet to them and
the talk pleasant, behold, there came a knocking at the door. So
the master of the house went out, that he might see what was to
do, and found ten men of the Khalif's eunuchs at the door. When
he saw this, he was amazed and said to them, "What is to do?"
Quoth they, "The Commander of the Faithful saluteth thee and
requireth of thee the slave-girl whom thou hast for sale and
whose name is Sitt el Milah." By Allah," answered the other, "I
have sold her." And they said, "Swear by the head of the
Commander of the Faithful that she is not in thy dwelling." He
made oath that he had sold her and that she was no longer at his
disposal; but they paid no *need to his word and forcing their
way into the house, found the damsel and the young Damascene in
the sitting-chamber. So they laid hands upon her, and the youth
said, "This is my slave-girl, whom I have bought with my money."
But they hearkened not to his speech and taking her, carried her
off to the Commander of the Faithful.
Therewithal Noureddin's life was troubled; so he arose and donned
his clothes, and his host said, "Whither away this night, O my
lord?" Quoth Noureddin, "I mean to go to my lodging, and
to-morrow I will betake myself to the palace of the Commander of
the Faithful and demand my slave-girl." "Sleep till the morning,"
said the other, "and go not forth at the like of this hour." But
he answered, "Needs must I go;" and the host said to him, "[Go]
in the safeguard of God." So Noureddin went forth, and
drunkenness had got the mastery of him, wherefore he threw
himself down on [a bench before one of] the shops. Now the watch
were at that hour making their round and they smelt the sweet
scent [of essences] and wine that exhaled from him; so they made
for it and found the youth lying on the bench, without sense or
motion. They poured water upon him, and he awoke, whereupon they
carried him to the house of the Chief of the Police and he
questioned him of his affair. "O my lord," answered Noureddin, "I
am a stranger in this town and have been with one of my friends.
So I came forth from his house and drunkenness overcame me."
The prefect bade carry him to his lodging; but one of those in
attendance upon him, by name El Muradi, said to him, "What wilt
thou do? This man is clad in rich clothes and on his finger is a
ring of gold, the beazel whereof is a ruby of great price; so we
will carry him away and slay him and take that which is upon him
of raiment [and what not else] and bring it to thee; for that
thou wilt not [often] see profit the like thereof, more by token
that this fellow is a stranger and there is none to enquire
concerning him." Quoth the prefect, "This fellow is a thief and
that which he saith is leasing." And Noureddin said, "God forbid
that I should be a thief!" But the prefect answered, "Thou
liest." So they stripped him of his clothes and taking the ring
from his finger, beat him grievously, what while he cried out for
succour, but none succoured him, and besought protection, but
none protected him. Then said he to them, "O folk, ye are quit
of[FN#12] that which ye have taken from me; but now restore me to
my lodging." But they answered, saying, "Leave this knavery, O
cheat! Thine intent is to sue us for thy clothes on the morrow."
"By Allah, the One, the Eternal," exclaimed he, "I will not sue
any for them!" But they said, "We can nowise do this." And the
prefect bade them carry him to the Tigris and there slay him and
cast him into the river.
So they dragged him away, what while he wept and spoke the words
which whoso saith shall nowise be confounded, to wit, "There is
no power and no virtue save in God the Most High, the Sublime!"
When they came to the Tigris, one of them drew the sword upon him
and El Muradi said to the swordbearer, "Smite off his head." But
one of them, Ahmed by name, said, "O folk, deal gently with this
poor wretch and slay him not unjustly and wickedly, for I stand
in fear of God the Most High, lest He burn me with his fire."
Quoth El Muradi, "A truce to this talk!" And Ahmed said, "If ye
do with him aught, I will acquaint the Commander of the
Faithful." "How, then, shall we do with him?" asked they; and he
answered, "Let us deposit him in prison and I will be answerable
to you for his provision; so shall we be quit of his blood, for
indeed he is wrongfully used." So they took him up and casting
him into the Prison of Blood,[FN#13]went away.
Meanwhile, they carried the damsel into the Commander of the
Faithful and she pleased him; so he assigned her a lodging of the
apartments of choice. She abode in the palace, eating not neither
drinking and ceasing not from weeping night nor day, till, one
night, the Khalif sent for her to his sitting-chamber and said to
her, "O Sitt el Milah, be of good heart and cheerful eye, for I
will make thy rank higher than [any of] the concubines and thou
shall see that which shall rejoice thee." She kissed the earth
and wept; whereupon the Khalif called for her lute and bade her
sing. So she improvised and sang the following verses, in
accordance with that which was in her heart:
Say, by the lightnings of thy teeth and thy soul's pure desire,
Moan'st thou as moan the doves and is thy heart for doubt on
fire?
How many a victim of the pangs of love-liking hath died! Tired is
my patience, but of blame my censors never tire.
When she had made an end of her song, she cast the lute from her
hand and wept till she swooned away, whereupon the Khalif bade
carry her to her chamber. Now he was ravished with her and loved
her with an exceeding love; so, after awhile, he again commanded
to bring her to his presence, and when she came, he bade her
sing. Accordingly, she took the lute and spoke forth that which
was in her heart and sang the following verses:
What strength have I solicitude and long desire to bear? Why art
thou purposed to depart and leave me to despair?
Why to estrangement and despite inclin'st thou with the spy? Yet
that a bough[FN#14] from side to side incline[FN#15] small
wonder 'twere.
Thou layst on me a load too great to bear, and thus thou dost But
that my burdens I may bind and so towards thee fare.
Then she cast the lute from her hand and swooned away; so she was
carried to her chamber and indeed passion waxed upon her. After a
long while, the Commander of the Faithful sent for her a third
time and bade her sing. So she took the lute and sang the
following verses:
O hills of the sands and the rugged piebald plain, Shall the
bondman of love win ever free from pain!
I wonder, shall I and the friend who's far from me Once more be
granted of Fate to meet, we twain!
Bravo for a fawn with a houri's eye of black, Like the sun or the
shining moon midst the starry train!
To lovers, "What see ye?" he saith, and to hearts of stone, "What
love ye," quoth he, "[if to love me ye disdain?"]
I supplicate Him, who parted us and doomed Our separation, that
we may meet again.
When she had made an end of her song, the Commander of the
Faithful said to her, "O damsel, thou art in love." "Yes,"
answered she. And he said, "With whom?" Quoth she, "With my lord
and my master, my love for whom is as the love of the earth for
rain, or as the love of the female for the male; and indeed the
love of him is mingled with my flesh and my blood and hath
entered into the channels of my bones. O Commander of the
Faithful, whenas I call him to mind, mine entrails are consumed,
for that I have not accomplished my desire of him, and but that I
fear to die, without seeing him, I would assuredly kill myself."
And he said, "Art thou in my presence and bespeakest me with the
like of these words? I will assuredly make thee forget thy lord."
Then he bade take her away; so she was carried to her chamber and
he sent her a black slave-girl, with a casket, wherein were three
thousand dinars and a carcanet of gold, set with pearls, great
and small, and jewels, worth other three thousand, saying to her,
"The slave-girl and that which is with her are a gift from me to
thee." When she heard this, she said, "God forbid that I should
be consoled for the love of my lord and my master, though with
the earth full of gold!" And she improvised and recited the
following verses:
I swear by his life, yea, I swear by the life of my love without
peer, To please him or save him from hurt, I'd enter the
fire without fear!
"Console thou thyself for his love," quoth they, "with another
than he;" But, "Nay, by his life," answered I, "I'll never
forget him my dear!"
A moon is my love, in a robe of loveliness proudly arrayed, And
the splendours of new-broken day from his cheeks and his
forehead shine clear.
Then the Khalif summoned her to his presence a fourth time and
said to her, "O Sitt el Milah, sing." So she improvised and sang
the following verses:
To his beloved one the lover's heart's inclined; His soul's a
captive slave, in sickness' hands confined.
"What is the taste of love?" quoth one, and I replied, "Sweet
water 'tis at first; but torment lurks behind."
Love's slave, I keep my troth with them; but, when they vowed,
Fate made itself Urcoub,[FN#16] whom never oath could bind.
What is there in the tents? Their burdens are become A lover's,
whose belov'd is in the litters' shrined.
In every halting-place like Joseph[FN#17] she appears And he in
every stead with Jacob's grief[FN#18] is pined.
When she had made an end of her song, she threw the lute from her
hand and wept till she swooned away. So they sprinkled on her
rose-water, mingled with musk, and willow-flower water; and when
she came to herself, Er Reshid said to her, "O Sitt el Milah,
this is not fair dealing in thee. We love thee and thou lovest
another." "O Commander of the Faithful," answered she, "there is
no help for it." Therewithal he was wroth with her and said, "By
the virtue of Hemzeh[FN#19] and Akil[FN#20] and Mohammed, Prince
of the Apostles, if thou name one other than I in my presence, I
will bid strike off thy head!" Then he bade return her to her
chamber, whilst she wept and recited the following verses:
If I must die, then welcome death to heal My woes; 'twere lighter
than the pangs I feel.
What if the sabre cut me limb from limb! No torment 'twere for
lovers true and leal.
Then the Khalif went in to the Lady Zubeideh, pale with anger,
and she noted this in him and said to him, "How cometh it that I
see the Commander of the Faithful changed of colour?" "O daughter
of my uncle," answered he, "I have a beautiful slave-girl, who
reciteth verses and telleth stories, and she hath taken my whole
heart; but she loveth other than I and avoucheth that she loveth
her [former] master; wherefore I have sworn a great oath that, if
she come again to my sitting-chamber and sing for other than I, I
will assuredly take a span from her highest part."[FN#21]Quoth
Zubeideh, "Let the Commander of the Faithful favour me with her
presence, so I may look on her and hear her singing." So he bade
fetch her and she came, whereupon the Lady Zubeideh withdrew
behind the curtain, whereas she saw her not, and Er Reshid said
to her, "Sing to us." So she took the lute and tuning it, sang
the following verses:
Lo, since the day I left you, O my masters, Life is not sweet, no
aye my heart is light.
Yea, in the night the thought of you still slays me; Hidden are
my traces from the wise men's sight,
All for a wild deer's love, whose looks have snared me And on
whose brows the morning glitters bright
I am become, for severance from my loved one, Like a left hand,
forsaken of the right.
Beauty on his cheek hath written, "Blest be Allah, He who created
this enchanting wight!"
Him I beseech our loves who hath dissevered, Us of his grace once
more to reunite.
When Er Reshid heard this, he waxed exceeding wroth and said,
"May God not reunite you twain in gladness!" Then he summoned the
headsman, and when he presented himself, he said to him, "Strike
off the head of this accursed slave-girl." So Mesrour took her by
the hand and [led her away; but], when she came to the door, she
turned and said to the Khalif, "O Commander of the Faithful, I
conjure thee, by thy fathers and forefathers, give ear unto that
I shall say!" Then she improvised and recited the following
verses:
O Amir of justice, be kind to thy subjects; For justice, indeed,
of thy nature's a trait.
O thou my inclining to love him that blamest, Shall lovers be
blamed for the errors of Fate?
Then spare me, by Him who vouchsafed thee the kingship; For a
gift in this world is the regal estate.
Then Mesrour carried her to the other end of the sitting-chamber
and bound her eyes and making her sit, stood awaiting a second
commandment; whereupon quoth the Lady Zubeideh, "O Commander of
the Faithful, with thy permission, wilt thou not vouchsafe this
damsel a share of thy clemency? Indeed, if thou slay her, it were
injustice." Quoth he, "What is to be done with her?" And she
said, "Forbear to slay her and send for her lord. If he be as she
describeth him in grace and goodliness, she is excused, and if he
be not on this wise, then slay her, and this shall be thy
justification against her."[FN#22]
"Be it as thou deemest," answered Er Reshid and caused return the
damsel to her chamber, saying to her, "The Lady Zubeideh saith
thus and thus." Quoth she, "God requite her for me with good!
Indeed, thou dealest equitably, O Commander of the Faithful, in
this judgment." And he answered, "Go now to thy place, and
to-morrow we will let bring thy lord." So she kissed the earth
and recited the following verses:
I am content, for him I love, to all abide; So, who will, let him
blame, and who will, let him chide.
At their appointed terms souls die; but for despair My soul is
like to die, or ere its term betide.
O thou with love of whom I'm smitten, yet content, I prithee come
to me and hasten to my side.
Then she arose and returned to her chamber.
On the morrow, the Commander of the Faithful sat [in his hall of
audience] and his Vizier Jaafer ben Yehya the Barmecide came in
to him; whereupon he called to him, saying, "I would have thee
bring me a youth who is lately come to Baghdad, hight [Sidi
Noureddin Ali] the Damascene." Quoth Jaafer, "Hearkening and
obedience," and going forth in quest of the youth, sent to the
markets and khans and caravanserais three days' space, but found
no trace of him, neither lit upon tidings of him. So on the
fourth day he presented himself before the Khalif and said to
him, "O our lord, I have sought him these three days, but have
not found him." Quoth Er Reshid, "Make ready letters to Damascus.
Belike he hath returned to his own land." So Jaafer wrote a
letter and despatched it by a dromedary-courier to the city of
Damascus; and they sought him there and found him not.
Meanwhile, news was brought that Khorassan had been
conquered;[FN#23] whereupon Er Reshid rejoiced and bade decorate
Baghdad and release all who were in the prisons, giving each of
them a dinar and a dress. So Jaafer addressed himself to the
decoration of the city and bade his brother El Fezl ride to the
prison and clothe and release the prisoners. El Fezl did his
brother's bidding and released all but the young Damascene, who
abode still in the Prison of Blood, saying, "There is no power
and no virtue save in God the Most High, the Sublime! Verily, we
are God's and to Him we return." Then said El Fezl to the gaoler,
"Is there any prisoner left in the prison?" "No," answered he,
and El Fezl was about to depart, when Noureddin called out to him
from within the prison, saying, "O my lord, tarry, for there
remaineth none in the prison other than I and indeed I am
oppressed. This is a day of clemency and there is no disputing
concerning it." El Fezl bade release him; so they set him free
and he gave him a dress and a dinar. So the young man went out,
bewildered and knowing not whither he should go, for that he had
abidden in the prison nigh a year and indeed his condition was
changed and his favour faded, and he abode walking and turning
round, lest El Muradi should come upon him and cast him into
another calamity.
When El Muradi heard of his release, he betook himself to the
chief of the police and said to him, "O our lord, we are not
assured from yonder youth, [the Damascene], for that he hath been
released from prison and we fear lest he complain of us." Quoth
the prefect, "How shall we do?" And El Muradi answered, saying,
"I will cast him into a calamity for thee." Then he ceased not to
follow the young Damascene from place to place till he came up
with him in a strait place and a by-street without an issue;
whereupon he accosted him and putting a rope about his neck,
cried out, saying, "A thief!" The folk flocked to him from all
sides and fell to beating and reviling Noureddin, whilst he cried
out for succour, but none succoured him, and El Muradi still said
to him, "But yesterday the Commander of the Faithful released
thee and to-day thou stealest!" So the hearts of the folk were
hardened against him and El Muradi carried him to the master of
police, who bade cut off his hand.
Accordingly, the hangman took him and bringing out the knife,
offered to cut off his hand, what while El Muradi said to him,
"Cut and sever the bone and sear[FN#24] it not for him, so he may
lose his blood and we be rid of him." But Ahmed, he who had
aforetime been the means of his deliverance, sprang up to him and
said, "O folk, fear God in [your dealings with] this youth, for
that I know his affair from first to last and he is void of
offence and guiltless. Moreover, he is of the folk of
condition,[FN#25] and except ye desist from him, I will go up to
the Commander of the Faithful and acquaint him with the case from
first to last and that the youth is guiltless of crime or
offence." Quoth El Muradi, "Indeed, we are not assured from his
mischief." And Ahmed answered, "Release him and commit him to me
and I will warrant you against his affair, for ye shall never see
him again after this." So they delivered Noureddin to him and he
took him from their hands and said to him, "O youth, have
compassion on thyself, for indeed thou hast fallen into the hands
of these folk twice and if they lay hold of thee a third time,
they will make an end of thee; and [in dealing thus with thee], I
aim at reward and recompense for thee[FN#26] and answered
prayer."[FN#27]
Noureddin fell to kissing his hand and calling down blessings on
him and said to him, "Know that I am a stranger in this your city
and the completion of kindness is better than the beginning
thereof; wherefore I beseech thee of thy favour that thou
complete to me thy good offices and kindness and bring me to the
gate of the city. So will thy beneficence be accomplished unto me
and may God the Most High requite thee for me with good!" ["Fear
not,"] answered Ahmed; "no harm shall betide thee. Go; I will
bear thee company till thou come to thy place of assurance." And
he left him not till he brought him to the gate of the city and
said to him, "O youth, go in the safeguard of God and return not
to the city; for, if they fall in with thee [again], they will
make an end of thee." Noureddin kissed his hand and going forth
the city, gave not over walking till he came to a mosque that
stood in one of the suburbs of Baghdad and entered therein with
the night.
Now he had with him nought wherewithal he might cover himself; so
he wrapped himself up in one of the rugs of the mosque [and abode
thus till daybreak], when the Muezzins came and finding him
sitting in that case, said to him, "O youth, what is this
plight?" Quoth he, "I cast myself on your hospitality, imploring
your protection from a company of folk who seek to kill me
unjustly and oppressively, without cause." And [one of] the
Muezzin[s] said, "Be of good heart and cheerful eye." Then he
brought him old clothes and covered him withal; moreover, he set
before him somewhat of meat and seeing upon him signs of gentle
breeding, said to him, "O my son, I grow old and desire thee of
help, [in return for which] I will do away thy necessity."
"Hearkening and obedience," answered Noureddin and abode with the
old man, who rested and took his ease, what while the youth [did
his service in the mosque], celebrating the praises of God and
calling the faithful to prayer and lighting the lamps and filling
the ewers[FN#28] and sweeping and cleaning out the place.
Meanwhile, the Lady Zubeideh, the wife of the Commander of the
Faithful, made a banquet in her palace and assembled her
slave-girls. As for Sitt el Milah, she came, weeping-eyed and
mournful-hearted, and those who were present blamed her for this,
whereupon she recited the following verses:
Ye chide at one who weepeth for troubles ever new; Needs must th'
afflicted warble the woes that make him rue.
Except I be appointed a day [to end my pain], I'll weep until
mine eyelids with blood their tears ensue.
When she had made an end of her verses, the Lady Zubeideh bade
each damsel sing a song, till the turn came round to Sitt el
Milah, whereupon she took the lute and tuning it, sang thereto
four-and-twenty songs in four-and-twenty modes; then she returned
to the first mode and sang the following verses:
Fortune its arrows all, through him I love, let fly At me and
parted me from him for whom I sigh.
Lo, in my heart the heat of every heart burns high And in mine
eyes unite the tears of every eye.
When she had made an end of her song, she wept till she made the
bystanders weep and the Lady Zubeideh condoled with her and said
to her, "God on thee, O Sitt el Milah, sing us somewhat, so we
may hearken to thee." "Hearkening and obedience," answered the
damsel and sang the following verses:
Assemble, ye people of passion, I pray; For the hour of our
torment hath sounded to-day.
The raven of parting croaks loud at our door; Alas, for our raven
cleaves fast to us aye!
For those whom we cherish are parted and gone; They have left us
in torment to pine for dismay.
So arise, by your lives I conjure you, arise And come let us fare
to our loved ones away.
Then she cast the lute from her hand and wept till she made the
Lady Zubeideh weep, and she said to her, "O Sitt el Milah,
methinks he whom thou lovest is not in this world, for that the
Commander of the Faithful hath sought him in every place, but
hath not found him." Whereupon the damsel arose and kissing the
Lady Zubeideh's hands, said to her, "O my lady, if thou wouldst
have him found, I have a request to make to thee, wherein thou
mayst accomplish my occasion with the Commander of the Faithful."
Quoth the princess, "And what is it?" "It is," answered Sitt el
Milah, "that thou get me leave to go forth by myself and go round
about in quest of him three days, for the adage saith, 'She who
mourneth for herself is not the like of her who is hired to
mourn.'[FN#29] If I find him, I will bring him before the
Commander of the Faithful, so he may do with us what he will; and
if I find him not, I shall be cut off from hope of him and that
which is with me will be assuaged." Quoth the Lady Zubeideh, "I
will not get thee leave from him but for a whole month; so be of
good heart and cheerful eye." Whereupon Sitt el Milah was glad
and rising, kissed the earth before her once more and went away
to her own place, rejoicing.
As for Zubeideh, she went in to the Khalif and talked with him
awhile; then she fell to kissing him between the eyes and on his
hand and asked him that which she had promised Sitt el Milah,
saying, "O Commander of the Faithful, I doubt me her lord is not
found in this world; but, if she go about in quest of him and
find him not, her hopes will be cut off and her mind will be set
at rest and she will sport and laugh; for that, what while she
abideth in hope, she will never cease from her frowardness." And
she gave not over cajoling him till he gave Sitt el Milah leave
to go forth and make search for her lord a month's space and
ordered her an eunuch to attend her and bade the paymaster [of
the household] give her all she needed, were it a thousand
dirhems a day or more. So the Lady Zubeideh arose and returning
to her palace, sent for Sitt el Milah and acquainted her with
that which had passed [between herself and the Khalif]; whereupon
she kissed her hand and thanked her and called down blessings on
her.
Then she took leave of the princess and veiling her face,
disguised herself; [FN#30] after which she mounted the mule and
sallying forth, went round about seeking her lord in the
thoroughfares of Baghdad three days' space, but lit on no tidings
of him; and on the fourth day, she rode forth without the city.
Now it was the noontide hour and great was the heat, and she was
aweary and thirst waxed upon her. Presently, she came to the
mosque, wherein the young Damascene had taken shelter, and
lighting down at the door, said to the old man, [the Muezzin], "O
elder, hast thou a draught of cold water? Indeed, I am overcome
with heat and thirst." Quoth he, "[Come up] with me into my
house." So he carried her up into his lodging and spreading her
[a carpet and cushions], seated her [thereon]; after which he
brought her cold water and she drank and said to the eunuch, "Go
thy ways with the mule and on the morrow come back to me here."
[So he went away] and she slept and rested herself.
When she awoke, she said to the old man, "O elder, hast thou
aught of food?" And he answered, "O my lady, I have bread and
olives." Quoth she, "That is food fit but for the like of thee.
As for me, I will have nought but roast lamb and broths and fat
rissoled fowls and stuffed ducks and all manner meats dressed
with [pounded nuts and almond-]kernels and sugar." "O my lady,"
replied the Muezzin, "I never heard of this chapter in the Koran,
nor was it revealed unto our lord Mohammed, whom God bless and
keep!"[FN#31] She laughed and said, "O elder, the matter is even
as thou sayest; but bring me inkhorn and paper." So he brought
her what she sought and she wrote a letter and gave it to him,
together with a seal-ring from her finger, saying, "Go into the
city and enquire for such an one the money-changer and give him
this my letter."
The old man betook himself to the city, as she bade him, and
enquired for the money-changer, to whom they directed him. So he
gave him the ring and the letter, which when he saw, he kissed
the letter and breaking it open, read it and apprehended its
purport. Then he repaired to the market and buying all that she
bade him, laid it in a porter's basket and bade him go with the
old man. So the latter took him and went with him to the mosque,
where he relieved him of his burden and carried the meats in to
Sitt el Milah. She seated him by her side and they ate, he and
she, of those rich meats, till they were satisfied, when the old
man rose and removed the food from before her.
She passed the night in his lodging and when she arose in the
morning, she said to him, "O elder, may I not lack thy kind
offices for the morning-meal! Go to the money-changer and fetch
me from him the like of yesterday's food." So he arose and
betaking himself to the money-changer, acquainted him with that
which she had bidden him. The money-changer brought him all that
she required and set it on the heads of porters; and the old man
took them and returned with them to Sitt el Milah. So she sat
down with him and they ate their sufficiency, after which he
removed the rest of the food. Then she took the fruits and the
flowers and setting them over against herself, wrought them into
rings and knots and letters, whilst the old man looked on at a
thing whose like he had never in his life seen and rejoiced
therein.
Then said she to him, "O elder, I would fain drink." So he arose
and brought her a gugglet of water; but she said to him, "Who
bade thee fetch that?" Quoth he, "Saidst thou not to me, 'I would
fain drink'?" And she answered, "I want not this; nay, I want
wine, the delight of the soul, so haply, O elder, I may solace
myself therewith." "God forbid," exclaimed the old man, "that
wine should be drunk in my house, and I a stranger in the land
and a Muezzin and an imam,[FN#32] who prayeth with the
true-believers, and a servant of the house of the Lord of the
Worlds! "Quoth she, "Why wilt thou forbid me to drink thereof in
thy house?" "Because," answered he, "it is unlawful." "O elder,"
rejoined she, "God hath forbidden [the eating of] blood and
carrion and hog's flesh. Tell me, are grapes and honey lawful or
unlawful?" Quoth he, "They are lawful;" and she said, "This is
the juice of grapes and the water of honey." But he answered,
"Leave this thy talk, for thou shall never drink wine in my
house." "O Sheikh," rejoined she, "folk eat and drink and enjoy
themselves and we are of the number of the folk and God is very
forgiving, clement."[FN#33] Quoth he, "This is a thing that may
not be." And she said, "Hast thou not heard what the poet saith
... ?" And she recited the following verses:
O son of Simeon, give no ear to other than my say. How bitter
from the convent 'twas to part and fare away!
Ay, and the monks, for on the Day of Palms a fawn there was Among
the servants of the church, a loveling blithe and gay.
By God, how pleasant was the night we passed, with him for third!
Muslim and Jew and Nazarene, we sported till the day.
The wine was sweet to us to drink in pleasance and repose, And in
a garden of the garths of Paradise we lay,
Whose streams beneath the myrtle's shade and cassia's welled
amain And birds made carol jubilant from every blossomed
spray.
Quoth he, what while from out his hair the morning glimmered
white, "This, this is life indeed, except, alas! it doth not
stay."
"O elder," added she, "if Muslims and Jews and Nazarenes drink
wine, who are we [that we should abstain from it]?" "By Allah, O
my lady," answered he, "spare thine endeavour, for this is a
thing to which I will not hearken." When she knew that he would
not consent to her desire, she said to him, "O elder, I am of the
slave-girls of the Commander of the Faithful and the food waxeth
on me[FN#34] and if I drink not, I shall perish,[FN#35] nor wilt
thou be assured against the issue of my affair. As for me, I am
quit of blame towards thee, for that I have made myself known to
thee and have bidden thee beware of the wrath of the Commander of
the Faithful."
When the old man heard her words and that wherewith she menaced
him, he arose and went out, perplexed and knowing not what he
should do, and there met him a Jew, who was his neighbour, and
said to him, "O Sheikh, how cometh it that I see thee strait of
breast? Moreover, I hear in thy house a noise of talk, such as I
use not to hear with thee." Quoth the Muezzin, "Yonder is a
damsel who avoucheth that she is of the slave-girls of the
Commander of the Faithful Haroun er Reshid; and she hath eaten
food and now would fain drink wine in my house, but I forbade
her. However she avoucheth that except she drink thereof, she
will perish, and indeed I am bewildered concerning my affair."
"Know, O my neighbour," answered the Jew, "that the slave-girls
of the Commander of the Faithful are used to drink wine, and
whenas they eat and drink not, they perish; and I fear lest some
mishap betide her, in which case thou wouldst not be safe from
the Khalifs wrath." "What is to be done?" asked the Sheikh; and
the Jew replied, "I have old wine that will suit her." Quoth the
old man, "[I conjure thee] by the right of neighbourship, deliver
me from this calamity and let me have that which is with thee!"
"In the name of God," answered the Jew and going to his house,
brought out a flagon of wine, with which the Sheikh returned to
Sitt el Milah. This pleased her and she said to him, "Whence
hadst thou this?" "I got it from my neighbour the Jew," answered
he. "I set out to him my case with thee and he gave me this."
Sitt el Milah filled a cup and emptied it; after which she drank
a second and a third. Then she filled the cup a fourth time and
handed it to the old man, but he would not accept it from her.
However, she conjured him, by her own head and that of the
Commander of the Faithful, that he should take it from her, till
he took the cup from her hand and kissed it and would have set it
down; but she conjured him by her life to smell it. So he smelt
it and she said to him, "How deemest thou?" "Its smell is sweet,"
replied he; and she conjured him, by the life of the Commander of
the Faithful, to taste it. So he put it to his mouth and she rose
to him and made him drink; whereupon, "O princess of the fair,"
said he, "this is none other than good." Quoth she, "So deem I.
Hath not our Lord promised us wine in Paradise?" And he answered,
"Yes. Quoth the Most High, 'And rivers of wine, a delight to the
drinkers.'[FN#36] And we will drink it in this world and the
world to come." She laughed and emptying the cup, gave him to
drink, and he said, "O princess of the fair, indeed thou art
excusable in thy love for this." Then he took from her another
and another, till he became drunken and his talk waxed great and
his prate.
The folk of the quarter heard him and assembled under the window;
and when he was ware of them, he opened the window and said to
them, "Are ye not ashamed, O pimps? Every one in his own house
doth what he will and none hindereth him; but we drink one poor
day and ye assemble and come, cuckoldy varlets that ye are!
To-day, wine, and to-morrow [another] matter; and from hour to
hour [cometh] relief." So they laughed and dispersed. Then the
girl drank till she was intoxicated, when she called to mind her
lord and wept, and the old man said to her, "What maketh thee
weep, O my lady?" "O elder," replied she, "I am a lover and
separated [from him I love]." Quoth he, "O my lady, what is this
love?" "And thou," asked she, "hast thou never been in love?" "By
Allah, O my lady," answered he, "never in all my life heard I of
this thing, nor have I ever known it! Is it of the sons of Adam
or of the Jinn?" She laughed and said, "Verily, thou art even as
those of whom the poet speaketh, when as he saith ..." And she
repeated the following verses:
How long will ye admonished be, without avail or heed? The
shepherd still his flocks forbids, and they obey his rede.
I see yon like unto mankind in favour and in form; But
oxen,[FN#37] verily, ye are in fashion and in deed.
The old man laughed at her speech and her verses pleased him.
Then said she to him, "I desire of thee a lute."[FN#38] So he
arose and brought her a piece of firewood. Quoth she, "What is
that?" And he said, "Didst thou not bid me bring thee wood?" "I
do not want this," answered she, and he rejoined, "What then is
it that is called wood, other than this?" She laughed and said,
"The lute is an instrument of music, whereunto I sing." Quoth he,
"Where is this thing found and of whom shall I get it for thee?"
And she said, "Of him who gave thee the wine." So he arose and
betaking himself to his neighbour the Jew, said to him, "Thou
favouredst us aforetime with the wine; so now complete thy
favours and look me out a thing called a lute, to wit, an
instrument for singing; for that she seeketh this of me and I
know it not" "Hearkening and obedience," replied the Jew and
going into his house, brought him a lute. [The old man took it
and carried it to Sitt el Milah,] whilst the Jew took his drink
and sat by a window adjoining the other's house, so he might hear
the singing.
The damsel rejoiced, when the old man returned to her with the
lute, and taking it from him, tuned its strings and sang the
following verses:
After your loss, nor trace of me nor vestige would remain, Did
not the hope of union some whit my strength sustain.
Ye're gone and desolated by your absence is the world: Requital,
ay, or substitute to seek for you 'twere vain.
Ye, of your strength, have burdened me, upon my weakliness, With
burdens not to be endured of mountain nor of plain.
When from your land the breeze I scent that cometh, as I were A
reveller bemused with wine, to lose my wits I'm fain.
Love no light matter is, O folk, nor are the woe and care And
blame a little thing to brook that unto it pertain.
I wander seeking East and West for you, and every time Unto a
camp I come, I'm told, "They've fared away again."
My friends have not accustomed me to rigour; for, of old, When I
forsook them, they to seek accord did not disdain.
When she had made an end of her song, she wept sore, till
presently sleep overcame her and she slept.
On the morrow, she said to the old man, "Get thee to the
money-changer and fetch me the ordinary." So he repaired to the
money-changer and delivered him the message, whereupon he made
ready meat and drink, as of his wont, [with which the old man
returned to the damsel and they ate till they had enough. When
she had eaten,] she sought of him wine and he went to the Jew and
fetched it. Then they sat down and drank; and when she grew
drunken, she took the lute and smiting it, fell a-singing and
chanted the following verses:
How long shall I thus question my heart that's drowned in woe?
I'm mute for my complaining; but tears speak, as they flow.
They have forbid their image to visit me in sleep; So even my
nightly phantom forsaketh me, heigho!
And when she had made an end of her song, she wept sore.
All this time, the young Damascene was hearkening, and whiles he
likened her voice to that of his slave-girl and whiles he put
away from him this thought, and the damsel had no whit of
knowledge of him. Then she broke out again into song and chanted
the following verses:
"Forget him," quoth my censurers, "forget him; what is he?" "If I
forget him, ne'er may God," quoth I, "remember me!"
Now God forbid a slave forget his liege lord's love! And how Of
all things in the world should I forget the love of thee?
Pardon of God for everything I crave, except thy love, For on the
day of meeting Him, that will my good deed be.
Then she drank three cups and filling the old man other three,
sang the following verses:
His love he'd have hid, but his tears denounced him to the spy,
For the heat of a red-hot coal that 'twixt his ribs did lie.
Suppose for distraction he seek in the Spring and its blooms one
day, The face of his loved one holds the only Spring for his
eye.
O blamer of me for the love of him who denieth his grace, Which
be the delightsome of things, but those which the people
deny?
A sun [is my love;] but his heat in mine entrails still rageth,
concealed; A moon, in the hearts of the folk he riseth, and
not in the sky.
When she had made an end of her song, she threw the lute from her
hand and wept, whilst the old man wept for her weeping. Then she
fell down in a swoon and presently coming to herself, filled the
cup and drinking it off, gave the old man to drink, after which
she took the lute and breaking out into song, chanted the
following verses:
Thy loss is the fairest of all my heart's woes; My case it hath
altered and banished repose.
The world is upon me all desolate grown. Alack, my long grief and
forlornness! Who knows
But the Merciful yet may incline thee to me And unite us again,
in despite of our foes!
Then she wept till her voice rose high and her lamentation was
discovered [to those without]; after which she again began to
drink and plying the old man with wine, sang the following
verses:
They have shut out thy person from my sight; They cannot shut thy
memory from my spright.
Favour or flout me, still my soul shall be Thy ransom, in
contentment or despite.
My outward of my inward testifies And this bears witness that
that tells aright.[FN#39]
When she had made an end of her song, she threw the lute from her
hand and wept and lamented. Then she slept awhile and presently
awaking, said, "O elder, hast thou what we may eat?" "O my lady,"
answered the old man, "there is the rest of the food;" but she
said, "I will not eat of a thing I have left. Go down to the
market and fetch us what we may eat." Quoth he, "Excuse me, O my
lady; I cannot stand up, for that I am overcome with wine; but
with me is the servant of the mosque, who is a sharp youth and an
intelligent. I will call him, so he may buy thee that which thou
desirest." "Whence hast thou this servant?" asked she; and he
replied, "He is of the people of Damascus." When she heard him
speak of the people of Damascus, she gave a sob, that she swooned
away; and when she came to herself, she said, "Woe's me for the
people of Damascus and for those who are therein! Call him, O
elder, that he may do our occasions."
So the old man put his head forth of the window and called the
youth, who came to him from the mosque and sought leave [to
enter]. The Muezzin bade him enter, and when he came in to the
damsel, he knew her and she knew him; whereupon he turned back in
bewilderment and would have fled; but she sprang up to him and
seized him, and they embraced and wept together, till they fell
down on the ground in a swoon. When the old man saw them in this
plight, he feared for himself and fled forth, seeing not the way
for drunkenness. His neighbour the Jew met him and said to him,
"How comes it that I see thee confounded?" "How should I not be
confounded," answered the old man, "seeing that the damsel who is
with me is fallen in love with the servant of the mosque and they
have embraced and fallen down in a swoon? Indeed, I fear lest the
Khalif come to know of this and be wroth with me; so tell me thou
what is to be done in this wherewith I am afflicted of the affair
of this damsel." Quoth the Jew, "For the nonce, take this
casting-bottle of rose-water and go forth-right and sprinkle them
therewith. If they be aswoon for this their foregathering and
embracement, they will come to themselves, and if otherwise, do
thou flee."
The old man took the casting-bottle from the Jew and going up to
Noureddin and the damsel, sprinkled their faces, whereupon they
came to themselves and fell to relating to each other that which
they had suffered, since their separation, for the anguish of
severance. Moreover, Noureddin acquainted Sitt el Milah with that
which he had endured from the folk who would have slain him and
made away with him; and she said to him, "O my lord, let us
presently give over this talk and praise God for reunion of
loves, and all this shall cease from us." Then she gave him the
cup and he said, "By Allah, I will nowise drink it, whilst I am
in this plight!" So she drank it off before him and taking the
lute, swept the strings and sang the following verses:
Thou that wast absent from my stead, yet still with me didst
bide, Thou wast removed from mine eye, yet still wast by my
side.
Thou left'st unto me, after thee, languor and carefulness; I
lived a life wherein no jot of sweetness I espied.
For thy sweet sake, as 'twere, indeed, an exile I had been, Lone
and deserted I became, lamenting, weeping-eyed.
Alack, my grief! Thou wast, indeed, grown absent from my yiew,
Yet art the apple of mine eye nor couldst from me divide.
When she had made an end of her song, she wept and Noureddin wept
also. Then she took the lute and improvised and sang the
following verses:
God knows I ne'er recalled thy memory to my thought, But still
with brimming tears straightway mine eyes were fraught;
Yea, passion raged in me and love-longing was like To slay me;
yet my heart to solace still it wrought.
Light of mine eyes, my hope, my wish, my thirsting eyes With
looking on thy face can never sate their drought.
When Noureddin heard these his slave-girl's verses, he fell
a-weeping, what while she strained him to her bosom and wiped
away his tears with her sleeve and questioned him and comforted
his mind. Then she took the lute and sweeping its strings, played
thereon, after such a wise as would move the phlegmatic to
delight, and sang the following verses:
Whenas mine eyes behold thee not, that day As of my life I do not
reckon aye;
And when I long to look upon thy face, My life is perished with
desire straightway.
On this wise they abode till the morning, tasting not the savour
of sleep; and when the day lightened, behold, the eunuch came
with the mule and said to Sitt el Milah, "The Commander of the
Faithful calleth for thee." So she arose and taking her lord by
the hand, committed him to the old man, saying, "I commend him to
thy care, under God,[FN#40] till this eunuch cometh to thee; and
indeed, O elder, I owe thee favour and largesse such as filleth
the interspace betwixt heaven and earth."
Then she mounted the mule and repairing to the palace of the
Commander of the Faithful, went in to him and kissed the earth
before him. Quoth he to her, as who should make mock of her, "I
doubt not but thou hast found thy lord." "By thy felicity and the
length of thy continuance [on life,]" answered she, "I have
indeed found him!" Now Er Reshid was leaning back; but, when he
heard this, he sat up and said to her, "By my life, [is this thou
sayest] true?" "Ay, by thy life!" answered she; and he said,
"Bring him into my presence, so I may see him." But she replied,
"O my lord, there have betided him many stresses and his charms
are changed and his favour faded; and indeed the Commander of the
Faithful vouchsafed me a month; wherefore I will tend him the
rest of the month and then bring him to do his service to the
Commander of the Faithful." Quoth Er Reshid, "True; the condition
was for a month; but tell me what hath betided him." "O my lord,"
answered she, "may God prolong thy continuance and make Paradise
thy place of returning and thy harbourage and the fire the
abiding-place of thine enemies, when he presenteth himself to pay
his respects to thee, he will expound to thee his case and will
name unto thee those who have wronged him; and indeed this is an
arrear that is due to the Commander of the Faithful, in[FN#41]
whom may God fortify the Faith and vouchsafe him the mastery over
the rebel and the froward!"
Therewithal he ordered her a handsome house and bade furnish it
with carpets and other furniture and vessels of choice and
commanded that all she needed should be given her. This was done
during the rest of the day, and when the night came, she
despatched the eunuch with the mule and a suit of clothes, to
fetch Noureddin from the Muezzin's lodging. So the young man
donned the clothes and mounting; rode to the house, where he
abode in luxury and delight a full-told month, what while she
solaced him with four things, to wit, the eating of fowls and the
drinking of wine and the lying upon brocade and the entering the
bath after copulation. Moreover, she brought him six suits of
clothes and fell to changing his apparel day by day; nor was the
appointed time accomplished ere his beauty returned to him and
his goodliness; nay, his charms waxed tenfold and he became a
ravishment to all who looked on him.
One day the Commander of the Faithful bade bring him to the
presence; so his slave-girl changed his raiment and clothing him
in sumptuous apparel, mounted him on the mule. Then he rode to
the palace and presenting himself before the Khalif, saluted him
with the goodliest of salutations and bespoke him with eloquent
and deep-thoughted speech. When Er Reshid saw him, he marvelled
at the goodliness of his favour and his eloquence and the
readiness of his speech and enquiring of him, was told that he
was Sitt el Milah's lord; whereupon quoth he, "Indeed, she is
excusable in her love for him, and if we had put her to death
unrighteously, as we were minded to do, her blood would have been
upon our heads." Then he turned to the young man and entering
into discourse with him, found him well bred, intelligent, quick
of wit and apprehension, generous, pleasant, elegant, erudite. So
he loved him with an exceeding love and questioned him of his
native city and of his father and of the manner of his journey to
Baghdad. Noureddin acquainted him with that which he would know
in the goodliest of words and with the concisest of expressions;
and the Khalif said to him, "And where hast thou been absent all
this while? Indeed, we sent after thee to Damascus and Mosul and
other the towns, but lit on no tidings of thee." "O my lord,"
answered the young man, "there betided thy slave in thy city that
which never yet betided any." And he acquainted him with his case
from first to last and told him that which had befallen him of
evil [from El Muradi and his crew].
When Er Reshid heard this, he was sore chagrined and waxed
exceeding wroth and said, "Shall this happen in a city wherein I
am?" And the Hashimi vein[FN#42] started out between his eyes.
Then he bade fetch Jaafer, and when he came before him, he
acquainted him with the matter and said to him, "Shall this come
to pass in my city and I have no news of it?" Then he bade Jaafer
fetch all whom the young Damascene had named [as having
maltreated him], and when they came, he let smite off their
heads. Moreover, he summoned him whom they called Ahmed and who
had been the means of the young man's deliverance a first time
and a second, and thanked him and showed him favour and bestowed
on him a sumptuous dress of honour and invested him with the
governance over his city.[FN#43]
Then he sent for the old man, the Muezzin, and when the messenger
came to him and told him that the Commander of the Faithful
sought him, he feared the denunciation of the damsel and
accompanied him to the palace, walking and letting wind[FN#44] as
he went, whilst all who passed him by laughed at him. When he
came into the presence of the Commander of the Faithful, he fell
a-trembling and his tongue was embarrassed, [so that he could not
speak]. The Khalif laughed at him and said to him, "O elder, thou
hast done no offence; so [why] fearest thou?" "O my lord,"
answered the old man (and indeed he was in the sorest of that
which may be of fear,) "by the virtue of thy pure forefathers,
indeed I have done nought, and do thou enquire of my conduct."
The Khalif laughed at him and ordering him a thousand dinars,
bestowed on him a sumptuous dress of honour and made him chief of
the Muezzins in his mosque.
Then he called Sitt el Milah and said to her, "The house [wherein
thou lodgest] and that which is therein Is a guerdon [from me] to
thy lord. So do thou take him and depart with him in the
safeguard of God the Most High; but absent not yourselves from
our presence." [So she went forth with Noureddin and] when she
came to the house, she found that the Commander of the Faithful
had sent them gifts galore and abundance of good things. As for
Noureddin, he sent for his father and mother and appointed him
agents and factors in the city of Damascus, to take the rent of
the houses and gardens and khans and baths; and they occupied
themselves with collecting that which accrued to him and sending
it to him every year. Meanwhile, his father and mother came to
him, with that which they had of monies and treasures and
merchandise, and foregathering with their son, saw that he was
become of the chief officers of the Commander of the Faithful and
of the number of his session-mates and entertainers, wherefore
they rejoiced in reunion with him and he also rejoiced in them.
The Khalif assigned them pensions and allowances and as for
Noureddin, his father brought him those riches and his wealth
waxed and his case was goodly, till he became the richest of the
folk of his time in Baghdad and left not the presence of the
Commander of the Faithful night or day. Moreover, he was
vouchsafed children by Sitt el Milah, and he ceased not to live
the most delightsome of lives, he and she and his father and
mother, a while of time, till Aboulhusn sickened of a sore
sickness and was admitted to the mercy of God the Most High.
After awhile, his mother died also and he carried them forth and
shrouded them and buried and made them expiations and
nativities.[FN#45] Then his children grew up and became like unto
moons, and he reared them in splendour and fondness, what while
his wealth waxed and his case flourished. He ceased not to pay
frequent visits to the Commander of the Faithful, he and his
children and his slave-girl Sitt el Milah, and they abode, he and
they, in all solace of life and prosperity till there came to
them the Destroyer of Delights and the Sunderer of Companies; and
extolled be the perfection of the Abiding One, the Eternal! This
is all that hath come down to us of their story.
EL ABBAS AND THE KING'S DAUGHTER OF
BAGHDAD.[FN#46]
There was once, of old days and in bygone ages and times, in the
city of Baghdad, the Abode of Peace, a king mighty of estate,
lord of understanding and beneficence and liberality and
generosity, and he was strong of sultanate and endowed with might
and majesty and magnificence. His name was Ins ben Cais ben
Rebiya es Sheibani,[FN#47] and when he took horse, there rode
unto him [warriors] from the farthest parts of the two
Iraks.[FN#48] God the Most High decreed that he should take to
wife a woman hight Afifeh, daughter of Ased es Sundusi, who was
endowed with beauty and grace and brightness and perfection and
justness of shape and symmetry; her face was like unto the new
moon and she had eyes as they were gazelle's eyes and an aquiline
nose like the crescent moon. She had learned horsemanship and the
use of arms and had thoroughly studied the sciences of the Arabs;
moreover, she had gotten by heart all the dragomanish[FN#49]
tongues and indeed she was a ravishment to mankind.
She abode with Ins ben Cais twelve years, during which time he
was blessed with no children by her; wherefore his breast was
straitened, by reason of the failure of lineage, and he besought
his Lord to vouchsafe him a child. Accordingly the queen
conceived, by permission of God the Most High; and when the days
of her pregnancy were accomplished, she gave birth to a
maid-child, than whom never saw eyes a goodlier, for that her
face was as it were a pure pearl or a shining lamp or a
golden[FN#50] candle or a full moon breaking forth of a cloud,
extolled be the perfection of Him who created her from vile
water[FN#51] and made her a delight to the beholders! When her
father saw her on this wise of loveliness, his reason fled for
joy, and when she grew up, he taught her the art of writing and
polite letters[FN#52] and philosophy and all manner of tongues.
So she excelled the folk of her time and overpassed her
peers;[FN#53] and the sons of the kings heard of her and all of
them desired to look upon her.
The first who sought her in marriage was King Nebhan of Mosul,
who came to her with a great company, bringing with him an
hundred she-camels laden with musk and aloes-wood and ambergris
and as many laden with camphor and jewels and other hundred laden
with silver money and yet other hundred laden with raiment of
silken and other stuffs and brocade, besides an hundred
slave-girls and an hundred magnificent horses of swift and
generous breeds, completely housed and accoutred, as they were
brides; and all this he laid before her father, demanding her of
him in marriage. Now King Ins ben Cais had bound himself by an
oath that he would not marry his daughter but to him whom she
should choose; so, when King Nebhan sought her in marriage, her
father went in to her and consulted her concerning his affair.
She consented not and he repeated to Nebhan that which she said,
whereupon he departed from him. After this came King Behram, lord
of the White Island, with riches more than the first; but she
accepted not of him and he returned, disappointed; nor did the
kings give over coming to her father, on her account, one after
other, from the farthest of the lands and the climes, each
glorying in more[FN#54] than those who forewent him; but she paid
no heed unto any of one them.
Presently, El Abbas, son of King El Aziz, lord of the land of
Yemen and Zebidoun[FN#55] and Mecca (which God increase in honour
and brightness and beauty!), heard of her; and he was of the
great ones of Mecca and the Hejaz[FN#56] and was a youth without
hair on his cheeks. So he presented himself one day in his
father's sitting-chamber,[FN#57] whereupon the folk made way for
him and the king seated him on a chair of red gold, set with
pearls and jewels. The prince sat, with his head bowed to the
ground, and spoke not to any; whereby his father knew that his
breast was straitened and bade the boon-companions and men of wit
relate marvellous histories, such as beseem the assemblies of
kings; nor was there one of them but spoke forth the goodliest of
that which was with him; but El Abbas still abode with his head
bowed down. Then the king bade his session-mates withdraw, and
when the chamber was void, he looked at his son and said to him,
"By Allah, thou rejoicest me with thy coming in to me and
chagrinest me for that thou payest no heed to any of the
session-mates nor of the boon-companions. What is the cause of
this?"
"O father mine," answered the prince, "I have heard tell that in
the land of Irak is a woman of the daughters of the kings, and
her father is called King Ins ben Cais, lord of Baghdad; she is
renowned for beauty and grace and brightness and perfection, and
indeed many folk have sought her in marriage of the kings; but
her soul consented not unto any one of them. Wherefore I am
minded to travel to her, for that my heart cleaveth unto her, and
I beseech thee suffer me to go to her." "O my son," answered his
father, "thou knowest that I have none other than thyself of
children and thou art the solace of mine eyes and the fruit of
mine entrails; nay, I cannot brook to be parted from thee an
instant and I purpose to set thee on the throne of the kingship
and marry thee to one of the daughters of the kings, who shall be
fairer than she." El Abbas gave ear to his father's word and
dared not gainsay him; so he abode with him awhile, whilst the
fire raged in his entrails.
Then the king took counsel with himself to build his son a bath
and adorn it with various paintings, so he might show it to him
and divert him with the sight thereof, to the intent that his
body might be solaced thereby and that the obsession of travel
might cease from him and he be turned from [his purpose of]
removal from his parents. So he addressed himself to the building
of the bath and assembling architects and builders and artisans
from all the towns and citadels and islands [of his dominions],
assigned them a site and marked out its boundaries. Then the
workmen occupied themselves with the making of the bath and the
setting out and adornment of its cabinets and roofs. They used
paints and precious stones of all kinds, according to the
variousness of their hues, red and green and blue and yellow and
what not else of all manner colours; and each artisan wrought at
his handicraft and each painter at his art, whilst the rest of
the folk busied themselves with transporting thither varicoloured
stones.
One day, as the [chief] painter wrought at his work, there came
in to him a poor man, who looked long upon him and observed his
handicraft; whereupon quoth the painter to him, "Knowest thou
aught of painting?" "Yes," answered the stranger; so he gave him
tools and paints and said to him, "Make us a rare piece of work."
So the stranger entered one of the chambers of the bath and drew
[on the walls thereof] a double border, which he adorned on both
sides, after a fashion than which never saw eyes a fairer.
Moreover, [amiddleward the chamber] he drew a picture to which
there lacked but the breath, and it was the portraiture of
Mariyeh, the king's daughter of Baghdad. Then, when he had made
an end of the portrait, he went his way [and told none of what he
had done], nor knew any the chambers and doors of the bath and
the adornment and ordinance thereof.
Presently, the chief workman came to the palace and sought an
audience of the king, who bade admit him. So he entered and
kissing the earth, saluted him with a salutation beseeming kings
and said, "O king of the time and lord of the age and the day,
may felicity endure unto thee and acceptance and be thy rank
exalted over all the kings both morning and evening![FN#58] The
work of the bath is accomplished, by the king's fair fortune and
the eminence of his magnanimity,[FN#59] and indeed we have done
all that behoved us and there remaineth but that which behoveth
the king." El Aziz ordered him a sumptuous dress of honour and
expended monies galore, giving unto each who had wroughten, after
the measure of his work. Then he assembled in the bath all the
grandees of his state, amirs and viziers and chamberlains and
lieutenants, and the chief officers of his realm and household,
and sending for his son El Abbas, said to him,"O my son, I have
builded thee a bath, wherein thou mayst take thy pleasance; so
enter thou therein, that thou mayst see it and divert thyself by
gazing upon it and viewing the goodliness of its ordinance and
decoration." "With all my heart," replied the prince and entered
the bath, he and the king and the folk about them, so they might
divert themselves with viewing that which the workmen's hands had
wroughten.
El Abbas went in and passed from place to place and chamber to
chamber, till he came to the chamber aforesaid and espied the
portrait of Mariyeh, whereupon he fell down in a swoon and the
workmen went to his father and said to him, "Thy son El Abbas
hath swooned away." So the king came and finding the prince cast
down, seated himself at his head and bathed his face with
rose-water. After awhile he revived and the king said to him,
"God keep thee,[FN#60] O my son! What hath befallen thee?" "O my
father," answered the prince, "I did but look on yonder picture
and it bequeathed me a thousand regrets and there befell me that
which thou seest." Therewithal the king bade fetch the [chief]
painter, and when he stood before him, he said to him, "Tell me
of yonder portrait and what girl is this of the daughters of the
kings; else will I take thy head." "By Allah, O king," answered
the painter, "I limned it not, neither know I who she is; but
there came to me a poor man and looked at me. So I said to him,
'Knowest thou the art of painting?' And he replied, 'Yes.'
Whereupon I gave him the gear and said to him, 'Make us a rare
piece of work.' So he wrought yonder portrait and went away and I
know him not neither have I ever set eyes on him save that day."
Therewithal the king bade all his officers go round about in the
thoroughfares and colleges [of the town] and bring before him all
strangers whom they found there. So they went forth and brought
him much people, amongst whom was the man who had painted the
portrait. When they came into the presence, the Sultan bade the
crier make proclamation that whoso wrought the portrait should
discover himself and have whatsoever he desired. So the poor man
came forward and kissing the earth before the king, said to him,
"O king of the age, I am he who painted yonder portrait." Quoth
El Aziz, "And knowest thou who she is?" "Yes," answered the
other; "this is the portrait of Mariyeh, daughter of the king of
Baghdad." The king ordered him a dress of honour and a slave-girl
[and he went his way]. Then said El Abbas, "O father mine, give
me leave to go to her, so I may look upon her; else shall I
depart the world, without fail." The king his father wept and
answered, saying, "O my son, I builded thee a bath, that it might
divert thee from leaving me, and behold it hath been the cause of
thy going forth; but the commandment of God is a
foreordained[FN#61] decree."[FN#62]
Then he wept again and El Abbas said to him, "Fear not for me,
for thou knowest my prowess and my puissance in returning answers
in the assemblies of the land and my good breeding[FN#63] and
skill in rhetoric; and indeed he whose father thou art and whom
thou hast reared and bred and in whom thou hast united
praiseworthy qualities, the repute whereof hath traversed the
East and the West, thou needest not fear for him, more by token
that I purpose but to seek diversion[FN#64] and return to thee,
if it be the will of God the Most High." Quoth the king, "Whom
wilt thou take with thee of attendants and [what] of good?" "O
father mine," replied El Abbas, "I have no need of horses or
camels or arms, for I purpose not battle, and I will have none go
forth with me save my servant Aamir and no more."
As he and his father were thus engaged in talk, in came his
mother and caught hold of him; and he said to her, "God on thee,
let me go my gait and strive not to turn me from my purpose, for
that needs must I go." "O my son," answered she, "if it must be
so and there is no help for it, swear to me that them wilt not be
absent from me more than a year." And he swore to her. Then he
entered his father's treasuries and took therefrom what he would
of jewels and jacinths and everything heavy of worth and light of
carriage. Moreover, he bade his servant Aamir saddle him two
horses and the like for himself, and whenas the night darkened
behind him,[FN#65] he rose from his couch and mounting his horse,
set out for Baghdad, he and Aamir, whilst the latter knew not
whither he intended.
He gave not over going and the journey was pleasant to him, till
they came to a goodly land, abounding in birds and wild beasts,
whereupon El Abbas started a gazelle and shot it with an arrow.
Then he dismounted and cutting its throat, said to his servant,
"Alight thou and skin it and carry it to the water." Aamir
answered him [with "Hearkening and obedience"] and going down to
the water, kindled a fire and roasted the gazelle's flesh. Then
they ate their fill and drank of the water, after which they
mounted again and fared on diligently, and Aamir still unknowing
whither El Abbas was minded to go. So he said to him, "O my lord,
I conjure thee by God the Great, wilt thou not tell me whither
thou intendest?" El Abbas looked at him and made answer with the
following verses:
In my soul the fire of yearning and affliction rageth aye; Lo, I
burn with love and longing; nought in answer can I say.
To Baghdad upon a matter of all moment do I fare, For the love of
one whose beauties have my reason led astray.
Under me's a slender camel, a devourer of the waste; Those who
pass a cloudlet deem it, as it flitteth o'er the way.
So, O Aamir, haste thy going, e'en as I do, so may I Heal my
sickness and the draining of the cup of love essay;
For the longing that abideth in my heart is hard to bear. Fare
with me, then, to my loved one. Answer nothing, but obey.
When Aamir heard his lord's verses, he knew that he was a slave
of love [and that she of whom he was enamoured abode] in Baghdad.
Then they fared on night and day, traversing plains and stony
wastes, till they came in sight of Baghdad and lighted down in
its suburbs[FN#66] and lay the night there. When they arose in
the morning, they removed to the bank of the Tigris and there
they encamped and sojourned three days.
As they abode thus on the fourth day, behold, a company of folk
giving their beasts the rein and crying aloud and saying, "Quick!
Quick! Haste to our rescue, O King!" Therewithal the king's
chamberlains and officers accosted them and said to them, "What
is behind you and what hath befallen you?" Quoth they, "Bring us
before the king." [So they carried them to Ins ben Cais;] and
when they saw him, they said to him, "O king, except thou succour
us, we are dead men; for that we are a folk of the Benou
Sheiban,[FN#67] who have taken up our abode in the parts of
Bassora, and Hudheifeh the Arab[FN#68] hath come down on us with
his horses and his men and hath slain our horsemen and carried
off our women and children; nor was one saved of the tribe but he
who fled; wherefore we crave help [first] by God the Most High,
then by thy life."
When the king heard their speech, he bade the crier make
proclamation in the thoroughfares of the city that the troops
should prepare [for the march] and that the horsemen should mount
and the footmen come forth; nor was it but the twinkling of the
eye ere the drums beat and the trumpets sounded; and scarce was
the forenoon of the day passed when the city was blocked with
horse and foot. So the king passed them in review and behold,
they were four-and-twenty thousand in number, horsemen and
footmen. He bade them go forth to the enemy and gave the
commandment over them to Said ibn el Wakidi, a doughty cavalier
and a valiant man of war. So the horsemen set out and fared on
along the bank of the Tigris.
El Abbas looked at them and saw the ensigns displayed and the
standards loosed and heard the drums beating; so he bade his
servant saddle him a charger and look to the girths and bring him
his harness of war. Quoth Aamir, "And indeed I saw El Abbas his
eyes flash and the hair of his hands stood on end, for that
indeed horsemanship[FN#69] abode [rooted in his heart]."So he
mounted his charger, whilst Aamir also bestrode a war-horse, and
they went forth with the troops and fared on two days. On the
third day, after the hour of the mid-afternoon prayer, they came
in sight of the enemy and the two armies met and the ranks joined
battle. The strife raged amain and sore was the smiting, whilst
the dust rose in clouds and hung vaulted [over them], so that all
eyes were blinded; and they ceased not from the battle till the
night overtook them, when the two hosts drew off from the mellay
and passed the night, perplexed concerning themselves [and the
issue of their affair].
When God caused the morning morrow, the two armies drew out in
battle array and the troops stood looking at one another. Then
came forth El Harith ibn Saad between the two lines and played
with his lance and cried out and recited the following verses:
Algates ye are our prey become; this many a day and night Right
instantly of God we've craved to be vouchsafed your sight.
So hath the Merciful towards Hudheifeh driven you, A champion
ruling over all, a lion of great might.
Is there a man of you will come, that I may heal his paint With
blows right profitful for him who's sick for lust of fight?
By Allah, come ye forth to me, for lo, I'm come to you I May he
who's wronged the victory get and God defend the right![FN#70]
Thereupon there sallied forth to him Zuheir ben Hebib, and they
wheeled about and feinted awhile, then came to dose quarters and
exchanged strokes. El Harith forewent his adversary in smiting
and stretched him weltering in his gore; whereupon Hudheifeh
cried out to him, saying, "Gifted of God art thou, O Harith! Call
another of them." So he cried out, saying, "Is there a
comer-forth [to battle?]" But they of Baghdad held back froni
him; and when it appeared to El Harith that confusion was amongst
them, he fell upon them and overthrew the first of them upon
their last and slew of them twelve men. Then the evening overtook
him and the Baghdadis addressed themselves to flight.
When the morning morrowed, they found themselves reduced to a
fourth part of their number and there was not one of them had
dismounted from his horse. So they made sure of destruction and
Hudheifeh came out between the ranks (now he was reckoned for a
thousand cavaliers) and cried out, saying, "Harkye, my masters of
Baghdad! Let none come forth to me but your Amir, so I may talk
with him and he with me; and he shall meet me in single combat
and I will meet him, and may he who is void of offence come off
safe!" Then he repeated his speech and said, "Why do I not hear
your Amir return me an answer?" But Saad, the amir of the army of
Baghdad, [replied not to him], and indeed his teeth chattered in
his head, whenas he heard him summon him to single combat.
When El Abbas heard Hudheifeh's challenge and saw Saad in this
case, he came up to the latter and said to him, "Wilt thou give
me leave to reply to him and I will stand thee in stead in the
answering of him and the going forth to battle with him and will
make myself thy sacrifice?" Saad looked at him and seeing valour
shining from between his eyes, said to him, "O youth, by the
virtue of the Chosen [Prophet,] (whom God bless and keep,) tell
me [who thou art and] whence thou comest to our succour." "This
is no place for questioning," answered the prince; and Saad said
to him, "O champion, up and at Hudheifeh! Yet, if his devil prove
too strong for thee, afflict not thyself in thy youth."[FN#71]
Quoth El Abbas, "It is of Allah that help is to be
sought,"[FN#72] and taking his arms, fortified his resolution and
went down [into the field], as he were a castle of the castles or
a piece of a mountain.
[When] Hudheifeh [saw him], he cried out to him, saying, "Haste
thee not, O youth! Who art thou of the folk?" And he answered, "I
am Saad [ibn] el Wakidi, commander of the host of King Ins, and
but that thou vauntedst thyself in challenging me, I had not come
forth to thee; for that thou art not of my peers neither art
counted equal to me in prowess and canst not avail against my
onslaught. Wherefore prepare thee for departure,[FN#73] seeing
that there abideth but a little of thy life." When Hudheifeh
heard this his speech, he threw himself backward,[FN#74] as if in
mockery of him, whereat El Abbas was wroth and called out to him,
saying, "O Hudheifeh, guard thyself against me." Then he rushed
upon him, as he were a swooper of the Jinn,[FN#75] and Hudheifeh
met him and they wheeled about a long while.
Presently, El Abbas cried out at Hudheifeh a cry that astonied
him and dealt him a blow, saying, "Take this from the hand of a
champion who feareth not the like of thee." Hudheifeh met the
stroke with his shield, thinking to ward it off from him; but the
sword shore the target in sunder and descending upon his
shoulder, came forth gleaming from the tendons of his throat and
severed his arm at the armpit; whereupon he fell down, wallowing
in his blood, and El Abbas turned upon his host; nor had the sun
departed the pavilion of the heavens ere Hudheifeh's army was in
full flight before El Abbas and the saddles were empty of men.
Quoth Saad, "By the virtue of the Chosen [Prophet], whom God
bless and keep, I saw El Abbas with the blood upon his saddle
pads, [in gouts] like camels' livers, smiting with the sword
right and left, till he scattered them abroad in every
mountain-pass and desert; and when he turned [back to the camp],
the men of Baghdad were fearful of him."
When the Baghdadis saw this succour that had betided them against
their enemies [and the victory that El Abbas had gotten them],
they turned back and gathering together the spoils [of the
defeated host], arms and treasures and horses, returned to
Baghdad, victorious, and all by the valour of El Abbas. As for
Saad, he foregathered with the prince, and they fared on in
company till they came to the place where El Abbas had taken
horse, whereupon the latter dismounted from his charger and Saad
said to him, "O youth, wherefore alightest thou in other than thy
place? Indeed, thy due is incumbent upon us and upon our Sultan;
so go thou with us to the dwellings, that we may ransom thee with
our souls." "O Amir Saad," replied El Abbas, "from this place I
took horse with thee and herein is my lodging. So, God on thee,
name me not to the king, but make as if thou hadst never seen me,
for that I am a stranger in the land."
So saying, he turned away from him and Saad fared on to the
palace, where he found all the suite in attendance on the king
and recounting to him that which had betided them with El Abbas.
Quoth the king, "Where is he?" And they answered, "He is with the
Amir Saad." [So, when the latter entered], the king [looked, but]
found none with him; and Saad, seeing that he hankered after the
youth, cried out to him, saying, "God prolong the king's days!
Indeed, he refuseth to present himself before thee, without leave
or commandment." "O Saad," asked the king, "whence cometh this
man?" And the Amir answered, "O my lord, I know not; but he is a
youth fair of favour, lovesome of aspect, accomplished in
discourse, goodly of repartee, and valour shineth from between
his eyes."
Quoth the king, "O Saad, fetch him to me, for indeed thou
describest to me a masterful man."[FN#76] And he answered,
saying, "By Allah, O my lord, hadst thou but seen our case with
Hudheifeh, what while he challenged me to the field of war and
the stead of thrusting and smiting and I held back from doing
battle with him! Then, whenas I thought to go forth to him,
behold, a cavalier gave loose to his bridle-rein and called out
to me, saying, 'O Saad, wilt thou suffer me to fill thy room in
waging war with him and I will ransom thee with myself?' And I
said, 'By Allah, O youth, whence cometh thou?' Quoth he, 'This is
no time for thy questions.'" Then he recounted to the king all
that had passed between himself and El Abbas from first to last;
whereupon quoth Ins ben Cais, "Bring him to me in haste, so we
may learn his tidings and question him of his case." "It is
well," answered Saad, and going forth of the king's presence,
repaired to his own house, where he put off his harness of war
and took rest for himself.
To return to El Abbas, when he alighted from his charger, he put
off his harness of war and rested awhile; after which he brought
out a shirt of Venetian silk and a gown of green damask and
donning them, covered himself with a turban of Damietta stuff and
girt his middle with a handkerchief. Then he went out a-walking
in the thoroughfares of Baghdad and fared on till he came to the
bazaar of the merchants. There he found a merchant, with chess
before him; so he stood watching him and presently the other
looked up at him and said to him, "O youth, what wilt thou stake
upon the game?" And he answered, "Be it thine to decide." "Then
be it a hundred dinars," said the merchant, and El Abbas
consented to him, whereupon quoth he, "O youth, produce the
money, so the game may be fairly stablished." So El Abbas brought
out a satin purse, wherein were a thousand dinars, and laid down
an hundred dinars therefrom on the edge of the carpet, whilst the
merchant did the like, and indeed his reason fled for joy, whenas
he saw the gold in El Abbas his possession.