arrival of Wakhs El Fellat and Sudun, who came to pay their
respects to the King. The King invited them to sit down, but
Sudun remained standing, and when he asked him again, he replied,
“You craven, was the world too narrow for you that you desired my
head as your daughter’s dowry?” “Sit down,” said the King, “for I
know that you are angry.” “How can I sit down,” returned Sudun,
“when you have ordered my death?” “God forbid that I should act
so unjustly,” said the King; “it was Sikar Diun.” “What,” said
he, “do you accuse me of such an action in my presence?” “Did you
not make this condition with Wakhs El Fellat,” said the King,
“and send him on his errand?” Sikar Diun then turned to Sudun,
and said, “Sit down, brave warrior, for we only did so from love
to you, that we might be able to make a treaty with you, and that
you might join our company.” After this answer, Sudun concealed
his anger, and sat down. Refreshments were now brought in, and
after partaking of them, Wakhs El Fellat and Sudun returned to
their tents. Several days passed in this manner, and at length
Sudun said to Wakhs El Fellat, “O my master, it is time for you
to demand Shama in marriage, now you have won her with the edge
of the sword. You have fulfilled their conditions long since by
bringing them my head, but you have made no further progress at
present. Ask for her once more, and if they will not give her up,
I will fall upon them with the sword, and we will carry Shama
off, and then lay waste the city.” “I will demand her as my wife
again to-morrow,” replied the other. When he went to the palace
next day, he found the King and all the court assembled. When
they saw him, they all rose from their seats, and when they sat
down again, he alone remained standing. “Why do you not sit
down,” said the King, “for all your wishes are now fulfilled?” “I
have still to ask for Shama,” he replied. “You know,” returned
the King, “that ever since her birth I have allowed Sikar Diun to
make all arrangements for her.” He now turned to Sikar Diun, who
replied in a friendly tone, “She is yours, for you have fulfilled
the conditions, and you have only now to give her ornaments.”
“What kind of ornaments?” asked he. “Instead of ornaments,”
replied the traitor, “we desire to receive a book containing the
history of the Nile. If you bring it us, she is wholly yours, but
if not, there is no marriage to be thought of.” “Where is it to
be found?” “I cannot tell you myself.” “Well, then,” returned
Wakhs El Fellat, “if I do not bring you the book, Shama is lost
to me; all present are witnesses to this.” He went out with these
words, pushing his way through the crowded assembly, and Sudun
behind him, till they reached their tents. “Why did you promise
that,” said Sudun, “let us rather overcome them with the sword,
and take Shama from them.” “Not so,” replied Wakhs El Fellat, “I
will only possess her honourably.” “And yet you do not even know
how to find the book,” said Sudun; “rather listen to my advice,
retire to my fortress, and leave me in their power.” “I would
never act thus,” said Wakhs El Fellat, “though I should suffer
death.” After these and similar speeches, supper was brought in,
and each retired to his sleeping apartment. But Wakhs El Fellat
had scarcely entered his room when Shama came in. “What have you
done,” said she, “and what engagement have you undertaken? How
can you fulfil this condition? Do you not see that their only
object is to destroy you, or at least to get rid of you? I have
come to warn you again, and I say to you once more, take me with
you to Sudun’s castle, where we can live at peace, and do not act
as they tell you.” “I will carry out my engagement,” he replied;
“I will not possess you like a coward, even though I should be
cut to pieces with swords.” Upon this, Shama was angry and left
him, while he lay down to rest, but could not sleep. He therefore
rose up, saddled and mounted his horse and rode away, without
knowing where, abandoning himself wholly to the will of God. He
wandered about thus for several days, until he reached a lonely
tower. He knocked at the door, and a voice answered, “Welcome, O
thou who hast separated thyself from thy companions; enter
without fear, O brave Saif, son of Zul Yezn.” When he pushed the
door it opened, and his eyes beheld a noble and venerable old
man, from whose appearance it was at once obvious that he busied
himself with the strictest life and fear of God. “Welcome,” cried
he again; “if you had travelled from east to West you would have
found no one who could show you how to obtain the book you seek
as well as I can, for I have dwelt here awaiting your arrival for
sixty years.” “But that was before I was born,” said Wakhs El
Fellat to himself. He then asked aloud, “By what name did you
address me just now?” “O Saif,” answered the old man, “that is
your true name, for you are a sword (Saíf) to the Abyssinians;
but whom do you worship?” “O my master,” was the reply, “the
Abyssinians worship Saturn (Sukhal) but I am in perplexity, and
know not whom to worship.” “My son,” replied the old man,
“worship Him who has reared the heavens over us without pillars,
and who has rested the earth on water; the only and eternal God,
the Lord who is only and alone to be reverenced. I worship Him
and none other beside him, for I follow the religion of Abraham.”
“What is your name?” asked Wakhs El Fellat. “I am called Shaikh
Gyat.” “What declaration must I make,” he asked the old man, “to
embrace your religion?” “Say There is no God but God, and
Abraham is the Friend of God.’ If you make this profession, you
will be numbered among the believers.” He at once repeated the
formula, and Shaikh Gyat was much pleased, and devoted the night
to teaching him the history of Abraham and his religion, and the
forms of worship. Towards morning he said, “O my son, whenever
you advance to battle, say, God is great, grant me victory, O
God, and destroy the infidels,’ and help will be near you. Now
pursue your journey, but leave your horse here until your return.
Enter the valley before you, under the protection of God, and
after three days you will meet some one who will aid you.” Wakhs
El Fellat set out on that road, and after three days he met a
horseman who saluted him, and exclaimed, “Welcome, Saif Zul Yezn,
for you bring happiness to this neighbourhood.” Saif returned his
salutation, and asked, “How do you know me, and how do you know
my name?” “I am not a brave or renowned warrior,” was the answer,
“but one of the maidens of this country and my mother taught me
your name.” “What is your name and that of your mother?” “My
mother’s name is Alka,” answered she, “and I am called Taka.”
When he heard this he was greatly rejoiced, for he remembered
that Shaikh Gyat had said to him, “O thou, whose destiny will be
decided by Alka and Taka.” “O noble virgin,” said he, “where is
your mother, Alka?” “Look round,” she replied; and he saw a very
large and lofty city at some distance. “Know,” said she, “that
360 experienced philosophers dwell in that city. My mother Alka
is their superior, and directs all their affairs and actions. She
knew that you would come to this neighbourhood in search of a
book concerning the Nile, which was written by Japhet, the son of
Noah, and she wishes you to attain your end by her means. She
also informed me of your coming, and promised me to you, saying,
You shall have no other husband but him.’ We expected you to-day,
and she sent me to meet you, adding, Warn him not to enter
the town by daylight, or it will be his destruction.’ Wait here,
therefore, till nightfall, and only approach the city after dark.
Turn to the right along the wall, and stand still when you reach
the third tower, where we will await you. As soon as we see you
we will throw you a rope; bind it round your waist, and we will
draw you up. The rest will be easy.” “But why need you give
yourselves all this trouble?” said Saif Zul Yezn. “Know,” replied
she, “that the inhabitants of this city have been informed of
your approaching arrival by their books, and are aware that you
are about to carry away their book, which they hold in
superstitious reverence. On the first day of each month they
repair to the building where it is preserved; and they adore it
and seek counsel from it respecting their affairs. They have also
a king whose name is Kamrun. When they knew that you were coming
for the book they constructed a talisman against you. They have
made a copper statue, and fixed a brazen horn in its hand, and
have stationed it at the gate of the city. If you enter, the
statue will sound the horn, and it will only do so upon your
arrival. They would then seize you and put you to death. On this
account we desire to baffle their wisdom by drawing you up to the
walls of the city at another place.” “May God reward you a
thousandfold,” replied he; “but go now, and announce my arrival
to your mother.” She went away, and he approached the city in the
darkness of night, and turned towards the third tower on the
right, where he found Alka and Taka. When they recognised him,
they immediately threw him the rope, which he fastened about him.
When he was drawn up, they descended from the wall, and were
about to proceed to Alka’s house, when the talisman suddenly
acted, and the statue blew the horn loudly. “Hasten to our
house,” cried Alka; and they succeeded in reaching it safely and
barred the doors, when the noise increased. The whole population
of the city rose up, and the streets were filled. “What is this
disturbance about?” asked Saif. “This is all due,” replied Alka,
“to the alarm sounded by the statue, because you have entered the
town. There will be a great meeting held to-morrow, where all the
wise men will assemble, to attempt to discover the whereabouts of
the intruder; but by God’s help, I will guide them wrong, and
confuse their counsels. Go to our neighbour the fisherman,” added
she to her daughter, “and see what he has caught.” She went, and
brought news that he had taken a large fish, of the size of a
man. “Take this piece of gold,” said her mother, “and bring us
the fish;” and when she did so, she told her to clean it, which
was done. Food was then brought in, and they ate and talked. The
night passed quietly, but on the following morning Alka ordered
Saif Zul Yezn to undress, and to hide in the skin of the fish.
She put her mouth to the mouth of the fish, and took a long rope,
which she fastened under Saif’s armpits. She then let him down
into a deep well, and fastened him there, saying, “Remain here,
till I come back.” She then left him, and went to the great hall
of the King, where the divan was already assembled, and the King
had taken his seat on the throne. All rose up when she entered,
and when she had seated herself, the King said to her, “O mother,
did you not hear the blast of the horn yesterday, and why did you
not come out with us?” “I did hear it,” she replied, “but I did
not heed it.” “But you know,” said he, “that the sound can only
be heard upon the arrival of the stranger who desires to take the
book.” “I know it, O King; but permit me to choose forty men from
among those assembled here.” She did so, and selected ten from
among the forty again. She then said to them, “Take a Trakhtramml
(sandboard on which the Arabs practise geomancy and notation) and
look and search.” They did so, but had scarcely finished when
they looked at each other in amazement. They destroyed their
calculation, and began a second, and confused this, too, and
began a third, upon which they became quite confounded. “What are
you doing there?” asked the King at last. “You go on working and
obliterating your work; what have you discovered?” “O King,”
replied they, “we find that the stranger has entered the town,
but not by any gate. He appears to have passed in between Heaven
and earth, like a bird. After this, a fish swallowed him, and
carried him down into some dark water.” “Are you fools?” asked
the King angrily; and turning to Alka, continued, “Have you ever
seen a man flying between Heaven and earth, and afterwards
swallowed by a fish, which descends with him into dark water?” “O
King,” replied she, “I always forbid the wise men to eat heavy
food, for it disturbs their understanding and weakens their
penetration; but they will not heed me.” At this the King was
angry, and immediately drove them from the hall. But Alka said,
“It will be plain to-morrow what has happened.” She left the
hall, and when she reached home, she drew Saif Zul Yezn out of
the well, and he dressed himself again. They sat down, and Alka
said, “I have succeeded in confounding their deliberations to-day!
and there will be a great assembly to-morrow, when I must
hide you in a still more out-of-the-way place.” After this they
supped, and went to rest. Next morning Alka called her daughter,
and said, “Bring me the gazelle.” When it was brought her, she
said, “Bring me the wings of an eagle.” Taka gave them to her,
and she bound them on the back of the gazelle. She then took a
pair of compasses, which she fixed in the ceiling of the room.
She next took two other pairs of compasses, which she fixed in
the ceiling of the room. She next took two other pairs of
compasses, and tied one between the fore feet, and the other
between the hind feet of the gazelle. She then tied a rope to the
compasses in the roof, and the two ends to the other pairs. But
she made Saif Zul Yezn lie down in such a position that his head
was between the feet of the gazelle. She then said to him,
“Remain here till I come back”; and went to the King, with whom
she found a very numerous assemblage of the wise men. As soon as
she entered, the King made her sit beside him on the throne. “O
my mother Alka,” he said, “I could not close an eye last night
from anxiety concerning yesterday’s events.” “Have you no wise
men,” returned she, “who eat the bread of the divan?” She then
turned to them, saying, “Select the wisest among you!” and they
chose the wisest among them. She ordered them to take the
sandboard again, but they became so confused that they were
obliged to begin again three times from the beginning. “What do
you discover?” said the King angrily. “O our master,” replied
they, “he whom we seek has been carried away by a beast of the
desert, which is flying with him between Heaven and earth.” “How
is this?” said the King to Alka; “have you ever seen anything
like it?” He seized his sword in a rage, and three fled, and he
killed four of the others. When Alka went home, she released
Saif, and told him what had happened. Next morning Alka took the
gazelle, and slaughtered it in a copper kettle. She then took a
golden mortar, and reversed it over it, and said to Saif Zul
Yezn, “Sit on this mortar till I come back.” She then went to the
divan, and chose out six wise men, who again took the sandboard,
and began again three times over in confusion. “Alas,” said the
King, in anger, “What misfortune do you perceive?” “O our
master,” they exclaimed in consternation, “our understanding is
confused, for we see him sitting on a golden mountain, which is
in the midst of a sea of blood, surrounded by a copper wall.” The
King was enraged, and broke up the assembly, saying, “O Alka, I
will now depend on you alone.” “To-morrow I will attempt to show
you the stranger,” she replied. When she came home, she related
to Saif what had happened, and said, “I shall know by to-morrow
what to tell the King to engage his attention, and prevent him
from pursuing you.” Next morning she found Taka speaking to Saif
Zul Yezn alone; and she asked her, “What does he wish?” “Mother,”
replied Taka, “he wishes to go to the King’s palace, to see him
and the divan.” “What you wish shall be done,” said she to Saif,
“but you must not speak.” He assented to the condition, and she
dressed him as her attendant, gave him a sandboard, and went with
him to the King, who said to her, “I could not sleep at all last
night, for thinking of the stranger for whom we are seeking.”
“Now that the affair is in my hands,” returned she, “you will
find me a sufficient protection against him.” She immediately
ordered Saif to give her the sandboard. She took it, and when she
had made her calculations, she said joyfully to the King, “O my
lord, I can give you the welcome news of the flight of the
stranger, owing to his dread of you and your revenge.” When the
King heard this, he rent his clothes, slapped his face, and said,
“He would not have departed, without having taken the book.” “I
cannot see if he has taken anything,” replied she. “This is the
first of the month,” said the King, “come and let us see if it is
missing.” He then went with a large company to the building where
the book was kept. Alka turned away from the King for a moment to
say to Saif, “Do not enter with us, for if you enter, the case
will open of itself, and the book will fall into your hands. This
would at once betray you, and you would be seized and put to
death, and all my labour would have been in vain.” She then left
him, and rejoined the King. When they reached the building, the
doors were opened, and when the King entered, they found the
book. They immediately paid it the customary honours, and
protracted this species of worship, while Saif stood at the door,
debating with himself whether to enter or not. At last his
impatience overcame him, and he entered, and at the same instant
the casket was broken to pieces, and the book fell out. The King
then ordered all to stand up, and the book rolled to Saif Zul
Yezn. Upon this all drew their swords, and rushed upon him. Saif
drew his sword also, and cried “God is great!” as Shaikh Gyat had
taught him. He continued to fight and defend himself, and
struggled to reach the door. The entire town arose in tumult to
pursue him, when he stumbled over a dead body, and was seized.
“Let me not see his face,” cried the King, “but throw him into
the mine.” This mine was eighty yards deep, and had not been
opened for sixty years. It was closed by a heavy leaden cover,
which they replaced, after they had loaded him with chains, and
thrown him in. Saif sat there in the darkness, greatly troubled,
and lamenting his condition to Him who never sleeps. Suddenly, a
side wall of the mine opened, and a figure came forth which
approached and called him by his name. “Who are you?” asked Saif.
“I am a woman named Akissa, and inhabit the mountain where the
Nile rises. We are a nation who hold the faith of Abraham. A very
pious man lives below us in a beautiful palace. But an evil Jinni
named Mukhtatif lived near us also, who loved me, and demanded me
in marriage of my father. He consented from fear, but I was
unwilling to marry an evil being who was a worshipper of fire.
How can you promise me in marriage to an infidel?’ said I to my
father. I shall thereby escape his malice myself,’ replied he. I
went out and wept, and complained to the pious man about the
affair. Do you know who will kill him?’ said he to me, and I
answered, No.’ I will direct you to him who has cut off his
hand,’ said he. His name is Saif Zul Yezn, and he is now in the
city of King Kamrun, in the mine.’ Thereupon he brought me to
you, and I come as you see me, to guide you to my country, that
you may kill Mukhtatif, and free the earth from his wickedness.”
She then moved him, and shook him, and all his chains fell off.
She lifted him on her shoulders, and carried him to the palace of
the Shaikh, who was named Abbas Salam. Here he heard a voice
crying, “Enter, Saif Zul Yezn.” He did so, and found a grave and
venerable old man, who gave him a very friendly reception,
saying, “Wait till to-morrow, when Akissa will come to guide you
to the castle of Mukhtatif.” He remained with him for the night,
and when Akissa arrived next morning, the old man told her to
hasten, that the world might be soon rid of the monster. They
then left this venerable man, and when they had walked awhile,
Akissa said to Saif, “Look before you.” He did so, and perceived
a black mass at some distance. “This is the castle of the evil-doer,”
said she, “but I cannot advance a step further than this.”
Saif therefore pursued his way alone, and when he came near the
castle, he walked round it to look for the entrance. As he was
noticing the extraordinary height of the castle, which was
founded on the earth, but appeared to overtop the clouds, he saw
a window open, and several people looked out, who pointed at him
with their fingers, exclaiming, “That is he, that is he!” They
threw him a rope, which they directed him to bind round him. They
drew him up by it, when he found himself in the presence of three
hundred and sixty damsels, who saluted him by his name.
* * * * *
(Here Habicht’s fragment ends.)
SCOTT’S MSS. AND TRANSLATIONS.
In 1800, Jonathan Scott, LL.D., published a volume of “Tales,
Anecdotes, and Letters, translated from the Arabic and Persian,”
based upon a fragmentary MS., procured by J. Anderson in Bengal,
which included the commencement of the work (Nos. 1–3) in 29
Nights; two tales not divided into Nights (Nos. 264 and 135) and
No. 21.
Scott’s work includes these two new tales (since republished by
Kirby and Clouston), with the addition of various anecdotes,
&c., derived from other sources. The “Story of the Labourer and
the Chair” has points of resemblance to that of “Malek and the
Princess Chirine” (Shirin?) in the Thousand and One Days; and
also to that of “Tuhfet El Culoub” (No. 183a) in the Breslau
Edition. The additional tales in this MS. and vol. of
translations are marked “A” under Scott in our Tables. Scott
published the following specimens (text and translation) in
Ouseley’s Oriental Collections (1797 and following years) No.
135m (i. pp. 245–257) and Introduction (ii. pp. 160–172; 228–
257). The contents are fully given in Ouseley, vol. ii. pp. 34,
35.
Scott afterwards acquired an approximately complete MS. in 7
vols., written in 1764 which was brought from Turkey by E.
Wortley Montague. Scott published a table of contents (Ouseley,
ii. pp. 25–34), in which, however, the titles of some few of the
shorter tales, which he afterwards translated from it, are
omitted, while the titles of others are differently translated.
Thus “Greece” of the Table becomes “Yemen” in the translation;
and “labourer” becomes “sharper.” As a specimen, he subsequently
printed the text and translation of No. 145 (Ouseley, ii. pp.
349–367).
This MS., which differs very much from all others known, is now
in the Bodleian Library at Oxford.
In 1811, Scott published an edition of the Arabian Nights’
Entertainments, in 6 vols., vol. 1 containing a long
introduction, and vol. 6, including a series of new tales from
the Oxford MS. (There is a small paper edition; and also a large
paper edition, the latter with frontispieces, and an Appendix
including a table of the tales contained in the MS.) It had
originally been Scott’s intention to retranslate the MS.; but he
appears to have found it beyond his powers. He therefore
contented himself with re-editing Galland, altering little except
the spelling of the names, and saying that Galland’s version is
in the main so correct that it would be useless repetition to go
over the work afresh. Although he says that he found many of the
tales both immoral and puerile, he translated most of those near
the beginning, and omitted much more (including several harmless
and interesting tales, such as No. 152) towards the end of his
MS. than near the beginning. The greater part of Scott’s
additional tales, published in vol. 6, are included in the
composite French and German editions of Gauttier and Habicht;
but, except Nos. 208, 209, and 215, republished in my “New
Arabian Nights,” they have not been reprinted in England, being
omitted in all the many popular versions which are professedly
based upon Scott, even in the edition in 4 vols., published in
1882, which reprints Scott’s Preface.
The edition of 1882 was published about the same time as one of
the latest reissues of Lane’s Thousand and One Nights; and the
Saturday Review of Nov. 4, 1882 (p. 609), published an article on
the Arabian Nights, containing the following amusing passage:
“Then Jonathan Scott, LL.D. Oxon, assures the world that he
intended to retranslate the tales given by Galland; but he found
Galland so adequate on the whole that he gave up the idea, and
now reprints Galland, with etchings by M. Lalauze, giving a
French view of Arab life. Why Jonathan Scott, LL.D., should have
thought to better Galland, while Mr. Lane’s version is in
existence, and has just been reprinted, it is impossible to say.”
The most interesting of Scott’s additional tales, with reference
to ordinary editions of The Nights, are as follows:—
No. 204b is a variant of No. 37.
No. 204c is a variant of 3e, in which the wife, instead of the
husband, acts the part of a jealous tyrant. (Compare Cazotte’s
story of Halechalbe.)
No. 204e. Here we have a reference to the Nesnás, which only
appears once in the ordinary versions of The Nights (No. 132b;
Burton, v., p. 333).
No. 206b. is a variant of No. 156.
No. 207c. This relates to a bird similar to that in the Jealous
Sisters (No. 198), and includes a variant of 3ba.
No. 207h. Another story of enchanted birds. The prince who seeks
them encounters an “Oone” under similar circumstances to those
under which Princess Parizade (No. 198) encounters the old
durwesh. The description is hardly that of a Marid, with which I
imagine the Ons are wrongly identified.
No. 208 contains the nucleus of the famous story of Aladdin (No.
193).
No. 209 is similar to No. 162; but we have again the well
incident of No. 3ba, and the exposure of the children as in No.
198.
No. 215. Very similar to Hasan of Bassorah (No. 155). As Sir R.
F. Burton (vol. viii., p. 60, note) has called in question my
identification of the Islands of WákWák with the Aru Islands near
New Guinea, I will quote here the passages from Mr. A. R.
Wallace’s Malay Archipelago (chap. 31) on which I based it:—“The
trees frequented by the birds are very lofty.... One day I
got under a tree where a number of the Great Paradise birds were
assembled, but they were high up in the thickest of the foliage,
and flying and jumping about so continually that I could get no
good view of them.... Their voice is most extraordinary. At
early morn, before the sun has risen, we hear a loud cry of
Wawk—wawk—wawk, w k—w k—w k,’ which resounds through the
forest, changing its direction continually. This is the Great
Bird of Paradise going to seek his breakfast.... The birds
had now commenced what the people here call sacaleli,’ or
dancing-parties, in certain trees in the forest, which are not
fruit-trees as I at first imagined, but which have an immense
head of spreading branches and large but scattered leaves, giving
a clear space for the birds to play and exhibit their plumes. On
one of these trees a dozen or twenty full-plumaged male birds
assemble together, raise up their wings, stretch out their necks,
and elevate their exquisite plumes, keeping them in a continual
vibration. Between whiles they fly across from branch to branch
in great excitement, so that the whole tree is filled with waving
plumes in every variety of attitude and motion.”
No. 216bc appears to be nearly the same as No. 42.
No. 225 is a variant of No. 135q.
WEIL’S TRANSLATION.
The only approximately complete original German translation is
“Tausend und eine Nacht. Arabische Erzählungen. Zum Erstenmale
aus dem Urtexte vollständig und treu übersetzt von Dr. Gustav
Weil,” four vols., Stuttgart. The first edition was in roy. 8vo,
and was published at Stuttgart and Pforzheim in 1839–1842; the
last volume I have not seen; it is wanting in the copy in the
British Museum. This edition is divided into Nights, and includes
No. 25b. In the later editions, which are in small square 8vo,
but profusely illustrated, like the larger one, this story is
omitted (except No. 135m, which the French editors include with
it), though Galland’s doubtful stories are retained; and there is
no division into Nights. The work has been reprinted several
times, and the edition quoted in our Table is described as
“Zweiter Abdruck der dritten vollstandig umgearbeiteten, mit
Anmerkungen und mit einer Einleitung versehenen Auflage” (1872).
Weil has not stated from what sources he drew his work, except
that No. 201 is taken from a MS. in the Ducal Library at Gotha.
This is unfortunate, as his version of the great transformation
scene in No. 3b (Burton, vol. i., pp. 134, 135), agrees more
closely with Galland than with any other original version. In
other passages, as when speaking of the punishment of Aziz (No.
9a, aa), Weil seems to have borrowed an expression from Lane, who
writes “a cruel wound;” Weil saying “a severe (schwere) wound.”