The Thousand and One Nights

The Agapic Ebook of The Thousand and One Nights

*** START OF THE AGAPIC EBOOK OF THE THOUSAND AND ONE NIGHTS ***

 

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PREFATORY NOTE.

The present is, I believe, the first complete translation of the great Arabic compendium of romantic fiction that has been attempted in any European language comprising about four times as much matter as that of Galland and three times as much as that of any other translator known to myself; and a short statement of the sources from which it is derived may therefore be acceptable to my readers. Three printed editions, more or less complete, exist of the Arabic text of the Thousand and One Nights; namely, those of Breslau, Boulac (Cairo) and Calcutta (1839), besides an incomplete one, comprising the first two hundred nights only, published at Calcutta in 1814. Of these, the first is horribly corrupt and greatly inferior, both in style and completeness, to the others, and the second (that of Boulac) is also, though in a far less degree, incomplete, whole stories (as, for instance, that of the Envier and the Envied in the present volume) being omitted and hiatuses, varying in extent from a few lines to several pages, being of frequent occurrence, whilst in addition to these defects, the editor, a learned Egyptian, has played havoc with the style of his original, in an ill-judged attempt to improve it, producing a medley, more curious than edifying, of classical and semi-modern diction and now and then, in his unlucky zeal, completely disguising the pristine meaning of certain passages. The third edition, that which we owe to Sir William Macnaghten and which appears to have been printed from a superior copy of the manuscript followed by the Egyptian editor, is by far the most carefully printed and edited of the three and offers, on the whole, the least corrupt and most comprehensive text of the work. I have therefore adopted it as my standard or basis of translation and have, to the best of my power, remedied the defects (such as hiatuses, misprints, doubtful or corrupt passages, etc.) which are of no infrequent occurrence even in this, the best of the existing texts, by carefully collating it with the editions of Boulac and Breslau (to say nothing of occasional references to the earlier Calcutta edition of the first two hundred nights), adopting from one and the other such variants, additions and corrections as seemed to me best calculated to improve the general effect and most homogeneous with the general spirit of the work, and this so freely that the present version may be said, in great part, to represent a variorum text of the original, formed by a collation of the different printed texts; and no proper estimate can, therefore, be made of the fidelity of the translation, except by those who are intimately acquainted with the whole of these latter. Even with the help of the new lights gained by the laborious process of collation and comparison above mentioned, the exact sense of many passages must still remain doubtful, so corrupt are the extant texts and so incomplete our knowledge, as incorporated in dictionaries, etc, of the peculiar dialect, half classical and half modern, in which the original work is written.

One special feature of the present version is the appearance, for the first time, in English metrical shape, preserving the external form and rhyme movement of the originals, of the whole of the poetry with which the Arabic text is so freely interspersed. This great body of verse, equivalent to at least ten thousand twelve-syllable English lines, is of the most unequal quality, varying from poetry worthy of the name to the merest doggrel, and as I have, in pursuance of my original scheme, elected to translate everything, good and bad (with a very few exceptions in cases of manifest mistake or misapplication), I can only hope that my readers will, in judging of my success, take into consideration the enormous difficulties with which I have had to contend and look with indulgence upon my efforts to render, under unusually irksome conditions, the energy and beauty of the original, where these qualities exist, and in their absence, to keep my version from degenerating into absolute doggrel.

The present translation being intended as a purely literary work produced with the sole object of supplying the general body of cultivated readers with a fairly representative and characteristic version of the most famous work of narrative fiction in existence, I have deemed it advisable to depart, in several particulars, from the various systems of transliteration of Oriental proper names followed by modern scholars, as, although doubtless admirably adapted to works having a scientific or non-literary object, they rest mainly upon devices (such as the use of apostrophes, accents, diacritical points and the employment of both vowels and consonants in unusual groups and senses) foreign to the genius of the English language and calculated only to annoy the reader of a work of imagination. Of these points of departure from established usage I need only particularize some of the more important; the others will, in general, be found to speak for themselves. One of the most salient is the case of the short vowel fet-heh, which is usually written [a breve], but which I have thought it better to render, as a rule, by [e breve], as in "bed" (a sound practically equivalent to that of a, as in "beggar," adopted by the late Mr. Lane to represent this vowel), reserving the English a, as in "father," to represent the alif of prolongation or long Arabic a, since I should else have no means of differentiating the latter from the former, save by the use of accents or other clumsy expedients, at once, to my mind, foreign to the purpose and vexatious to the reader of a work of pure literature. In like manner, I have eschewed the use of the letter q, as an equivalent for the dotted or guttural kaf (choosing to run the risk of occasionally misleading the reader as to the original Arabic form of a word by leaving him in ignorance whether the k used is the dotted or undotted one,—a point of no importance whatever to the non-scientific public,—rather than employ an English letter in a manner completely unwarranted by the construction of our language, in which q has no power as a terminal or as moved by any vowel other than u, followed by one of the four others) and have supplied its place, where the dotted kaf occurs as a terminal or as preceding a hard vowel, by the hard c, leaving k to represent it (in common with the undotted kaf generally) in those instances where it is followed by a soft vowel. For similar reasons, I have not attempted to render the Arabic quasi-consonant aïn, save by the English vowel corresponding to that by which it is moved, preferring to leave the guttural element of its sound (for which we have no approach to an equivalent in English) unrepresented, rather than resort to the barbarous and meaningless device of the apostrophe. Again, the principle, in accordance with which I have rendered the proper names of the original, is briefly (and subject to certain variations on the ground of convenience and literary fitness) to preserve unaltered such names as Tigris, Bassora, Cairo, Aleppo, Damascus, etc., which are familiar to us otherwise than by the Arabian Nights and to alter which, for the sake of mere literality, were as gratuitous a piece of pedantry as to insist upon writing Copenhagen Kjobenhavn, or Canton Kouang-tong, and to transliterate the rest as nearly as may consist with a due regard to artistic considerations. The use of untranslated Arabic words, other than proper names, I have, as far as possible, avoided, rendering them, with very few exceptions, by the best English equivalents in my power, careful rather to give the general sense, where capable of being conveyed by reasonable substitution of idiom or otherwise, than to retain the strict letter at the expense of the spirit; nor, on the other hand, have I thought it necessary to alter the traditional manner of spelling certain words which have become incorporated with our language, where (as in the case of the words genie, houri, roe, khalif, vizier, cadi, Bedouin, etc. etc.) the English equivalent is fairly representative of the original Arabic.

I have to return my cordial thanks to Captain Richard F. Burton, the well-known traveller and author, who has most kindly undertaken to give me the benefit of his great practical knowledge of the language and customs of the Arabs in revising the manuscript of my translation for the press.

THE BOOK OF THE THOUSAND NIGHTS AND ONE NIGHT

In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful! Praise be to God, the Lord of the two worlds,[FN#1] and blessing and peace upon the Prince of the Prophets, our lord and master Mohammed, whom God bless and preserve with abiding and continuing peace and blessing until the Day of the Faith! Of a verity, the doings of the ancients become a lesson to those that follow after, so that men look upon the admonitory events that have happened to others and take warning, and come to the knowledge of what befell bygone peoples and are restrained thereby. So glory be to Him who hath appointed the things that have been done aforetime for an example to those that come after! And of these admonitory instances are the histories called the Thousand Nights and One Night, with all their store of illustrious fables and relations.

It is recorded in the chronicles of the things that have been done of time past that there lived once, in the olden days and in bygone ages and times, a king of the kings of the sons of Sasan, who reigned over the Islands[FN#2] of India and China and was lord of armies and guards and servants and retainers. He had two sons, an elder and a younger, who were both valiant cavaliers, but the elder was a stouter horseman than the younger. When their father died, he left his empire to his elder son, whose name was Shehriyar, and he took the government and ruled his subjects justly, so that the people of the country and of the empire loved him well, whilst his brother Shahzeman became King of Samarcand of Tartary. The two kings abode each in his own dominions, ruling justly over their subjects and enjoying the utmost prosperity and happiness, for the space of twenty years, at the end of which time the elder king yearned after his brother and commanded his Vizier to repair to the latter's court and bring him to his own capital. The Vizier replied, "I hear and obey," and set out at once and journeyed till he reached King Shahzeman's court in safety, when he saluted him for his brother and informed him that the latter yearned after him and desired that he would pay him a visit, to which King Shahzeman consented gladly and made ready for the journey and appointed his Vizier to rule the country in his stead during his absence. Then he caused his tents and camels and mules to be brought forth and encamped, with his guards and attendants, without the city, in readiness to set out next morning for his brother's kingdom. In the middle of the night, it chanced that he bethought him of somewhat he had forgotten in his palace; so he returned thither privily and entered his apartments, where he found his wife asleep in his own bed, in the arms of one of his black slaves. When he saw this, the world grew black in his sight, and he said to himself, "If this is what happens whilst I am yet under the city walls, what will be the condition of this accursed woman during my absence at my brother's court?" Then he drew his sword and smote the twain and slew them and left them in the bed and returned presently to his camp, without telling any one what had happened. Then he gave orders for immediate departure and set out a'once and travelled till he drew near his brother's capital when he despatched vaunt-couriers to announce his approach. His brother came forth to meet him and saluted him and rejoiced exceedingly and caused the city to be decorated in his honour. Then he sat down with him to converse and make merry; but King Shahzeman could not forget the perfidy of his wife and grief grew on him more and more and his colour changed and his body became weak. Shehriyar saw his condition, but attributed it to his separation from his country and his kingdom, so let him alone and asked no questions of him, till one day he said to him, "O my brother, I see that thou art grown weak of body and hast lost thy colour." And Shahzeman answered, "O my brother, I have an internal wound," but did not tell him about his wife. Said Shehriyar, "I wish thou wouldst ride forth with me a-hunting; maybe it would lighten thy heart." But Shahzeman refused; so his brother went out to hunt without him. Now there were in King Shahzeman's apartments lattice-windows overlooking his brother's garden, and as the former was sitting looking on the garden, behold a gate of the palace opened, and out came twenty damsels and twenty black slaves, and among them his brother's wife, who was wonderfully fair and beautiful. They all came up to a fountain, where the girls and slaves took off their clothes and sat down together. Then the queen called out, "O Mesoud!" And there came to her a black slave, who embraced her and she him. Then he lay with her, and on likewise did the other slaves with the girls. And they ceased not from kissing and clipping and cricketing and carousing until the day began to wane. When the King of Tartary saw this, he said to himself, "By Allah, my mischance was lighter than this!" And his grief and chagrin relaxed from him and he said, "This is more grievous than what happened to me!" So he put away his melancholy and ate and drank. Presently, his brother came back from hunting and they saluted each other: and Shehriyar looked at Shahzeman and saw that his colour had returned and his face was rosy and he ate heartily, whereas before he ate but little. So he said to him, "O my brother, when I last saw thee, thou wast pale and wan, and now I see that the colour has returned to thy face. Tell me how it is with thee." Quoth Shahzeman, "I will tell thee what caused my loss of colour, but excuse me from acquainting thee with the cause of its return to me." Said Shehriyar, "Let me hear first what was the cause of thy pallor and weakness." "Know then, O my brother," rejoined Shahzeman, "that when thou sentest thy vizier to bid me to thee, I made ready for the journey and had actually quitted my capital city, when I remembered that I had left behind me a certain jewel, that which I gave thee. So I returned to my palace, where I found my wife asleep in my bed, in the arms of a black slave. I slew them both and came to thee; and it was for brooding over this affair, that I lost my colour and became weak. But forgive me if I tell thee not the cause of my restoration to health." When his brother heard this, he said to him, "I conjure thee by Allah, tell me the reason of thy recovery!" So he told him all that he had seen, and Shehriyar said, "I must see this with my own eyes." "Then," replied Shahzeman, "feign to go forth to hunt and hide thyself in my lodging and thou shalt see all this and have ocular proof of the truth." So Shehriyar ordered his attendants to prepare to set out at once; whereupon the troops encamped without the city and he himself went forth with them and sat in his pavilion, bidding his servants admit no one. Then he disguised himself and returned secretly to King Shahzeman's palace and sat with him at the lattice overlooking the garden, until the damsels and their mistress came out with the slaves and did as his brother had reported, till the call to afternoon prayer. When King Shehriyar saw this, he was as one distraught and said to his brother, "Arise, let us depart hence, for we have no concern with kingship, and wander till we find one to whom the like has happened as to us, else our death were better than our life." Then they went out by a postern of the palace and journeyed days and nights till they came to a tree standing in the midst of a meadow, by a spring of water, on the shore of the salt sea, and they drank of the stream and sat down by it to rest. When the day was somewhat spent, behold, the sea became troubled and there rose from it a black column that ascended to the sky and made towards the meadow. When the princes saw this, they were afraid and climbed up to the top of the tree, which was a high one, that they might see what was the matter; and behold, it was a genie of lofty stature, broad-browed and wide-cheated, bearing on his head a coffer of glass with seven locks of steel. He landed and sat down under the tree, where he set down the coffer, and opening it, took out a smaller one. This also he opened, and there came forth a damsel slender of form and dazzlingly beautiful, as she were a shining sun, as says the poet Uteyeh:

She shines out in the dusk, and lo! the day is here, And all the
     trees flower forth with blossoms bright and clear,
The sun from out her brows arises, and the moon, When she unveils
     her face, cloth hide for shame and fear.
All living things prostrate themselves before her feet, When she
     unshrouds and all her hidden charms appear;
And when she flashes forth the lightnings of her glance, She
     maketh eyes to rain, like showers, with many a tear.

When the genie saw her, he said to her, "O queen of noble ladies, thou whom indeed I stole away on thy wedding night, I have a mind to sleep awhile." And he laid his head on her knees and fell asleep. Presently the lady raised her eyes to the tree and saw the two kings among the branches; so she lifted the genie's head from her lap and laid it on the ground, then rose and stood beneath the tree and signed to them to descend, without heeding the Afrit.[FN#3] They answered her, in the same manner, "God on thee [FN#4] excuse us from this." But she rejoined by signs, as who should say, "If you do not come down, I will wake the Afrit on you, and he will kill you without mercy." So they were afraid and came down to her, whereupon she came up to them and offered them her favours, saying, "To it, both of you, and lustily; or I will set the Afrit on you." So for fear of him, King Shehriyar said to his brother Shahzeman, "O brother, do as she bids thee." But he replied, "Not I; do thou have at her first." And they made signs to each other to pass first, till she said, "Why do I see you make signs to each other? An you come not forward and fall to, I will rouse the Afrit on you." So for fear of the genie, they lay with her one after the other, and when they had done, she bade them arise, and took out of her bosom a purse containing a necklace made of five hundred and seventy rings, and said to them, "Know ye what these are?" They answered, "No." And she said, "Every one of the owners of these rings has had to do with me in despite of this Afrit. And now give me your rings, both of you." So each of them took off a ring and gave it to her. And she said to them, "Know that this genie carried me off on my wedding night and laid me in a box and shut the box up in a glass chest, on which he clapped seven strong locks and sank it to the bottom of the roaring stormy sea, knowing not that nothing can hinder a woman, when she desires aught, even as says one of the poets:

I rede thee put no Faith in womankind, Nor trust the oaths they
     lavish all in vain:
For on the satisfaction of their lusts Depend alike their love
     and their disdain.
They proffer lying love, but perfidy Is all indeed their garments
     do contain.
Take warning, then, by Joseph's history, And how a woman sought
     to do him bane;
And eke thy father Adam, by their fault To leave the groves of
     Paradise was fain.

Or as another says:

Out on yon! blame confirms the blamed one in his way. My fault is
     not so great indeed as you would say.
If I'm in love, forsooth, my case is but the same As that of
     other men before me, many a day.
For great the wonder were if any man alive From women and their
     wiles escape unharmed away!"

When the two kings heard this, they marvelled and said, "Allah! Allah! There is no power and no virtue save in God the Most High, the Supreme! We seek aid of God against the malice of women, for indeed their craft is great!" Then she said to them, "Go your ways." So they returned to the road, and Shehriyar said to Shahzeman, "By Allah, O my brother, this Afrit's case is more grievous than ours. For this is a genie and stole away his mistress on her wedding night and clapped her in a chest, which he locked with seven locks and sank in the midst of the sea, thinking to guard her from that which was decreed by fate, yet have we seen that she has lain with five hundred and seventy men in his despite, and now with thee and me to boot. Verily, this is a thing that never yet happened to any, and it should surely console us. Let us therefore return to our kingdoms and resolve never again to take a woman to wife; and as for me, I will show thee what I will do." So they set out at once and presently came to the camp outside Shehriyar's capital and, entering the royal pavilion, sat down on their bed of estate. Then the chamberlains and amirs and grandees came in to them and Shehriyar commanded them to return to the city. So they returned to the city and Shehriyar went up to his palace, where he summoned his Vizier and bade him forthwith put his wife to death. The Vizier accordingly took the queen and killed her, whilst Shehriyar, going into the slave girls and concubines, drew his sword and slew them all. Then he let bring others in their stead and took an oath that every night he would go in to a maid and in the morning put her to death, for that there was not one chaste woman on the face of the earth. As for Shahzeman, he sought to return to his kingdom at once; so his brother equipped him for the journey and he set out and fared on till he came to his own dominions. Meanwhile, King Shehriyar commanded his Vizier to bring him the bride of the night, that he might go in to her; so he brought him one of the daughters of the amirs and he went in to her, and on the morrow he bade the Vizier cut off her head. The Vizier dared not disobey the King's commandment, so he put her to death and brought him another girl, of the daughters of the notables of the land. The King went in to her also, and on the morrow he bade the Vizier kill her; and he ceased not to do thus for three years, till the land was stripped of marriageable girls, and all the women and mothers and fathers wept and cried out against the King, cursing him and complaining to the Creator of heaven and earth and calling for succour upon Him who heareth prayer and answereth those that cry to Him; and those that had daughters left fled with them, till at last there remained not a single girl in the city apt for marriage. One day the King ordered the Vizier to bring him a maid as of wont; so the Vizier went out and made search for a girl, but found not one and returned home troubled and careful for fear of the king's anger. Now this Vizier had two daughters, the elder called Shehrzad and the younger Dunyazad, and the former had read many books and histories and chronicles of ancient kings and stories of people of old time; it is said indeed that she had collected a thousand books of chronicles of past peoples and bygone kings and poets. Moreover, she had read books of science and medicine; her memory was stored with verses and stories and folk-lore and the sayings of kings and sages, and she was wise, witty, prudent and well-bred. She said to her father, "How comes it that I see thee troubled and oppressed with care and anxiety? Quoth one of the poets:

'Tell him that is of care oppressed, That grief shall not endure
     alway,
But even as gladness fleeteth by, So sorrow too shall pass
     away.'"

When the Vizier heard his daughter's words, he told her his case, and she said, "By Allah, O my father, marry me to this king, for either I will be the means of the deliverance of the daughters of the Muslims from slaughter or I will die and perish as others have perished." "For God's sake," answered the Vizier, "do not thus adventure thy life!" But she said, "It must be so." Whereupon her father was wroth with her and said to her, "Fool that thou art, dost thou not know that the ignorant man who meddles in affairs falls into grievous peril, and that he who looks not to the issue of his actions finds no friend in time of evil fortune? As says the byword, 'I was sitting at my ease, but my officiousness would not let me rest.' And I fear lest there happen to thee what happened to the ox and the ass with the husbandman." "And what happened to them?" asked she. Quoth the Vizier, "Know, O my daughter, that

Story of the Ox[FN#5] and the Ass

There was once a merchant who was rich in goods and cattle, and he had a wife and children and dwelt in the country and was skilled in husbandry. Now God had gifted him to understand the speech of beasts and birds of every kind, but under pain of death if he divulged his gift to any one; so he kept it secret for fear of death. He had in his byre an ox and an ass, each tied up in his stall, hard by the other. One day, as the merchant was sitting near at hand, he heard the ox say to the ass, 'I give thee joy, O Father Wakeful![FN#6] Thou enjoyest rest and attention and they keep thy stall always swept and sprinkled, and thine eating is sifted barley and thy drink fresh water, whilst I am always weary, for they take me in the middle of the night and gird the yoke on my neck and set me to plough and I toil without ceasing from break of morn till sunset. I am forced to work more than my strength and suffer all kinds of indignities, such as blows and abuse, from the cruel ploughman; and I return home at the end of the day, and indeed my sides are torn and my neck is flayed. Then they shut me up in the cow-house and throw me beans and straw mixed with earth and husks, and I lie all night in dung and stale. But thy place is always swept and sprinkled and thy manger clean and full of sweet hay and thou art always resting, except that, now and then, our master hath occasion to ride thee and returns speedily with thee; and but for this thou art always resting and I toiling, and thou sleeping and I waking; thou art full and I hungry and thou honoured and I despised.' 'O broadhead,' answered the ass,' he was in the right who dubbed thee ox [FN#7], for thou art stupid in the extreme, nor is there in thee thought or craft but thou showest zeal and cost thine utmost endeavour before thy master and fearest and killest thyself for the benefit of another. Thou goest forth at the time of morning prayer and returnest not till sundown and endurest all day all manner of afflictions, now blows now fatigue and now abuse. When thou returnest, the ploughman ties thee to a stinking manger, and thou friskest and pawest the ground and buttest with thy horns and bellowest greatly, and they think thou art content. No sooner have they thrown thee thy fodder than thou fallest on it greedily and hastenest to fill thy belly with it. But if thou wilt follow my counsel, it will be the better for thee and thou wilt get twice as much rest as I. When thou goest forth to the furrow and they lay the yoke on thy neck, lie down, and do not rise, even if they beat thee, or only rise and lie down again; and when they bring thee home, fall prostrate on thy back and refuse thy fodder, when they throw it thee and feign to be sick. Do this for a day or two and thou wilt have rest from toil and weariness.' The ox thanked the ass greatly for his advice and called down blessings on him; and the merchant heard all that passed between them.

Next day the ploughman took the ox and yoked him to the plough and set him to work as usual. The ox began to fall short in his work, and the ploughman beat him till he broke the yoke and fled, following out the ass's precepts; but the man overtook him and beat him till he despaired of life. Yet for all that, he did nothing but stand still and fall down till the evening. Then the ploughman took him home and tied him in his stall; but he withdrew from the manger and neither frisked nor stamped nor bellowed as usual, and the man wondered at this. Then he brought him the beans and straw, but he smelt at them and left them and lay down at a distance and passed the night without eating. Next morning, the ploughman came and found the straw and beans untouched and the ox lying on his back, with his stomach swollen and his legs in the air; so he was concerned for him and said to himself, 'He has certainly fallen ill, and this is why he would not work yesterday.' Then he went to his master and told him that the ox was ill and would not touch his fodder. Now the farmer knew what this meant, for that he had overheard the talk between the ox and the ass as before mentioned. So he said, 'Take that knave of an ass and bind the yoke on his neck and harness him to the plough and try and make him do the ox's work.' So the ploughman took the ass and made him work all day beyond his strength to accomplish the ox's task; and he beat him till his skin and ribs were sore and his neck flayed with the yoke. When the evening came and the ass resumed home, he could hardly drag himself along. But as for the ox, he had lain all day, resting, and had eaten his fodder cheerfully and with a good appetite; and all day long he had called down blessings on the ass for his good counsel, not knowing what had befallen him on his account. So when the night came and the ass returned to the stable, the ox arose and said to him, 'Mayst thou be gladdened with good news, O Father Wakeful! Through thee, I have rested today and have eaten my food in peace and comfort.' The ass made him no answer, for rage and vexation and fatigue and the beating he had undergone; but he said to himself, 'All this comes of my folly in giving another good advice; as the saying goes, "I was lying at full length, but my officiousness would not let me be." But I will go about with him and return him to his place, else I shall perish.' Then he went to his manger weary, whilst the ox thanked him and blessed him. "And thou, O my daughter," said the Vizier, "like the ass, wilt perish through thy lack of sense, so do thou oft quiet and cast not thyself into perdition; indeed I give thee good counsel and am affectionately solicitous for thee." "O my father," answered she, "nothing will serve me but I must go up to this king and become his wife." Quoth he, "An thou hold not thy peace and bide still, I will do with thee even as the merchant did with his wife." "And what was that?" asked she. "Know," answered he, "that the merchant and his wife and children came out on the terrace, it being a moonlit night and the moon at its full. Now the terrace overlooked the byre; and presently, as he sat, with his children playing before him, the merchant heard the ass say to the ox, 'Tell me, O Father Stupid, what dost thou mean to do tomorrow?' 'What but that thou advisest me?' answered the ox. 'Thine advice was as good as could be and has gotten me complete rest, and I will not depart from it in the least; so when they bring me my fodder, I will refuse it and feign sickness and swell out my belly.' The ass shook his head and said, 'Beware of doing that I' 'Why?' asked the ox, and the ass answered, 'Know that I heard our master say to the labourer, "If the ox do not rise and eat his fodder today, send for the butcher to slaughter him, and give his flesh to the poor and make a rug of his skin." And I fear for thee on account of this. So take my advice, ere ill-hap betide thee, and when they bring thee the fodder, eat it and arise and bellow and paw the ground with thy feet, or our master will assuredly slaughter thee.' Whereupon the ox arose and bellowed and thanked the ass, and said, 'Tomorrow, I will go with them readily.' Then he ate up all his fodder, even to licking the manger with his tongue.

When the merchant heard this, he was amused at the ass's trick, and laughed, till he fell backward. 'Why dost thou laugh?' asked his wife; and he said, 'I laughed at something that I saw and heard, but it is a secret and I cannot disclose it, or I shall die.' Quoth she, 'There is no help for it but thou must tell me the reason of thy laughter, though thou die for it.' 'I cannot reveal it,' answered he, 'for fear of death.' 'It was at me thou didst laugh,' said she, and ceased not to importune him till he was worn out and distracted. So he assembled all his family and kinsfolk and summoned the Cadi and the witnesses, being minded to make his last dispositions and impart to her the secret and die, for indeed he loved her with a great love, and she was the daughter of his father's brother and the mother of his children. Moreover, he sent for all her family and the neighbours, and when they were all assembled, he told them the state of the case and announced to them the approach of his last hour. Then he gave his wife her portion and appointed guardians of his children and freed his slave girls and took leave of his people. They all wept, and the Cadi and the witnesses wept also and went up to the wife and said to her, 'We conjure thee, by Allah, give up this matter, lest thy husband and the father of thy children die. Did he not know that if he revealed the secret, he would surely die, he would have told thee.' But she replied, 'By Allah, I will not desist from him, till he tell me, though he die for it.' So they forbore to press her. And all who were present wept sore, and there was a general mourning in the house. Then the merchant rose and went to the cow-house, to make his ablutions and pray, intending after to return and disclose his secret and die.

Now he had a cock and fifty hens and a dog, and he heard the latter say in his lingo to the cock, 'How mean is thy wit, O cock! May he be disappointed who reared thee! Our master is in extremity and thou clappest thy wings and crowest and fliest from one hen's back to another's! God confound thee! Is this a time for sport and diversion? Art thou not ashamed of thyself?' 'And what ails our master, O dog?' asked the cock. The dog told him what had happened and how the merchant's wife had importuned him, till he was about to tell her his secret and die, and the cock said, 'Then is our master little of wit and lacking in sense; if he cannot manage his affairs with a single wife, his life is not worth prolonging. See, I have fifty wives. I content this one and anger that, stint one and feed another, and through my good governance they are all under my control. Now, our master pretends to sense and accomplishments, and he has but one wife and yet knows not how to manage her.' Quoth the dog, 'What, then, should our master do?' 'He should take a stick,' replied the cock, 'and beat her soundly, till she says, "I repent, O my lord! I will never again ask a question as long as I live." And when once he has done this, he will be free from care and enjoy life. But he has neither sense nor judgment.'

When the merchant heard what the cock said, he went to his wife (after he had hidden a rattan in an empty store-room) and said to her, 'Come with me into this room, that I may tell thee my secret and die and none see me.' So she entered gladly, thinking that he was about to tell her his secret, and he locked the door; then he took the rattan and brought it down on her back and ribs and shoulders, saying, 'Wilt thou ask questions about what is none of thy business?' He beat her till she was well-nigh senseless, and she cried out, 'By Allah, I will ask thee no more questions, and indeed I repent sincerely!' And she kissed his hands and feet. Then he unlocked the door and went out and told the company what had happened, whereat they rejoiced, and mourning was changed into joy and gladness. So the merchant learnt good management from a cock, and he and his wife lived happily until death.

And thou, O my daughter," added the Vizier, "except thou desist from this thing, I will do with thee even as the merchant did with his wife." "I will never desist," answered she, "nor is it this story that can turn me from my purpose; and an thou yield not to me, I will go up myself to the King and complain to him of thee, in that thou grudges the like of me to the like of him." Quoth her father, "Must it be so?" And she answered "Yes." So being weary of striving with her and despairing of turning her from her purpose, he went up to King Shehriyar and kissing the earth before him, told him about his daughter and how she would have him give her to him that next night; whereat the King marvelled and said to him, "How is this? By Him who raised up the heavens, if thou bring her to me, I shall say to thee on the morrow, 'Take her and put her to death.' And if thou kill her not, I will kill thee without fail." "O king of the age," answered the Vizier, "it is she who will have it so; and I told her all this, but she will not hear me and insists upon passing this night with thy highness." "It is well," answered Shehriyar; "go and make her ready, and tonight bring her to me." So the Vizier returned to his daughter and told her what had passed, saying, "May God not bereave us of thee!" But Shehrzad rejoiced with an exceeding joy and made ready all that she needed, and said to her sister Dunyazad, "O my sister, note well what I shall enjoin thee. When I go up to the Sultan, I will send after thee, and when thou comest to me and seest that the King has done his will of me, do thou say to me, 'O my sister, an thou be not asleep, tell us some of thy delightful stories, to pass away the watches of this our night.' Do this and (God willing) it shall be the means of my deliverance and of the ridding of the folk of this calamity, and by it I will turn the King from his custom." Dunyazad answered, "It is well." And the Vizier carried Shehrzad to the King, who took her to his bed and fell to toying with her. But she wept, and he said to her, "Why dost thou weep?" "O king of the age," answered she, "I have a young sister and I desire to take leave of her this night and that she may take leave of me before the morning." So he sent for Dunyazad, and she waited till the Sultan had done his desire of her sister and they were all three awake, when she coughed and said, "O my sister, an thou be not asleep, tell us one of thy pleasant stories, to beguile the watches of our night, and I will take leave of thee before the morning." "With all my heart," answered Shehrzad, "if the good king give me leave." The King being wakeful, was pleased to hear a story and said, "Tell on." Whereat she rejoiced greatly and said, "It is related, O august king, that

THE MERCHANT AND THE GENIE.

There was once a merchant, who had much substance and traded largely in foreign countries. One day, as he was riding through a certain country, whither he had gone to collect what was due to him, there overtook him the heat of the day and presently he espied a garden[FN#8] before him; so he made towards it for shelter and alighting, sat down under a walnut tree, by a spring of water. Then he put his hand to his saddle bags and took out a cake of bread and a date and ate them and threw away the date stone, when behold, there started up before him a gigantic Afrit, with a naked sword in his hand, who came up to him and said, 'Arise, that I may slay thee, even as thou hast slain my son.' 'How did I slay thy son?' asked the merchant, and the genie replied, 'When thou threwest away the date stone, it smote my son, who was passing at the time, on the breast, and he died forthright.' When the merchant heard this, he said, 'Verily we are God's and to Him we return! There is no power and no virtue but in God, the Most High, the Supreme! If I killed him, it was by misadventure, and I prithee pardon me.' But the genie said, 'There is no help for it but I must kill thee.' Then he seized him and throwing him down, raised his sword to strike him: whereupon the merchant wept and said, 'I commit my affair to God!' and recited the following verses:

Fate has two days, untroubled one, the other lowering, And life
     two parts, the one content, the other sorrowing.
Say unto him that taunteth us with fortune's perfidy, 'At whom
     but those whose heads are high doth Fate its arrows fling?'
If that the hands of Time have made their plaything of our life,
     Till for its long protracted kiss ill-hap upon us spring,
Dost thou not see the hurricane, what time the wild winds blow,
     Smite down the stately trees alone and spare each lesser
     thing?
Lo! in the skies are many stars, no one can tell their tale, But
     to the sun and moon alone eclipse brings darkening.
The earth bears many a pleasant herb and many a plant and tree:
     But none is stoned save only those to which the fair fruit
     cling.
Look on the sea and how the waifs float up upon the foam, But in
     its deepest depths of blue the pearls have sojourning.

'Cut short thy speech,' said the genie, 'for, by Allah, there is no help for it but I must kill thee.' 'Know, O Afrit,' replied the merchant, 'that I have a wife and children and much substance, and I owe debts and hold pledges: so let me return home and give every one his due, and I vow by all that is most sacred that I will return to thee at the end of the year, that thou mayest do with me as thou wilt, and God is witness of what I say.' The genie accepted his promise and released him, whereupon he returned to his dwelling-place and paid his debts and settled all his affairs. Moreover, he told his wife and children what had happened and made his last dispositions, and tarried with his family till the end of the year. Then he rose and made his ablutions[FN#9] and took his winding sheet under his arm and bidding his household and kinsfolk and neighbours farewell, set out, much against his will, to perform his promise to the genie; whilst his family set up a great noise of crying and lamentation. He journeyed on till he reached the garden, where he had met with the genie, on the first day of the new year, and there sat down to await his doom. Presently, as he sat weeping over what had befallen him, there came up an old man, leading a gazelle by a chain, and saluted the merchant, saying, 'What ails thee to sit alone in this place, seeing that it is the resort of the Jinn?'[FN#10] The merchant told him all that had befallen him with the Afrit, and he wondered and said, 'By Allah, O my brother, thy good faith is exemplary and thy story is a marvellous one! If it were graven with needles on the corners of the eye, it would serve as a warning to those that can profit by example.' Then he sat down by his side, saying, 'By Allah, O my brother, I will not leave thee till I see what befalls thee with this Afrit.' So they sat conversing, and fear and terror got hold upon the merchant and trouble increased upon him, notwithstanding the old man's company. Presently another old man came up, leading two black dogs, and saluting them, inquired why they sat in a place known to be haunted by Jinn, whereupon the merchant repeated his story to him. He had not sat long with them when there came up a third old man leading a dappled she-mule, and after putting to them the same question and receiving a like answer, sat down with them to await the issue of the affair. They had sat but a little while longer, when behold, there arose a cloud of dust and a great whirling column approached from the heart of the desert. Then the dust lifted and discovered the genie, with a drawn sword in his hand and sparks of fire issuing from his eyes. He came up to them and dragged the merchant from amongst them, saying, 'Rise, that I may slay thee as thou slewest my son, the darling of my heart!' Whereupon the merchant wept and bewailed himself and the three old men joined their cries and lamentations to his. Then came forward the first old man, he of the gazelle, and kissed the Afrit's hand and said to him, 'O genie and crown of the kings of the Jinn, if I relate to thee my history with this gazelle and it seem to thee wonderful, wilt thou grant me a third of this merchant's blood?' 'Yes, O old man,' answered the genie, 'if thou tell me thy story and I find it wonderful, I will remit to thee a third of his blood.' Then said the old man, 'Know, O Afrit, that

The First Old Man's Story.

This gazelle is the daughter of my father's brother and my own flesh and blood. I married her whilst she was yet of tender age and lived with her near thirty years, without being blessed with a child by her. So I took me a concubine and had by her a son like the rising full moon, with eyes and eyebrows of perfect beauty; and he grew up and flourished till he reached the age of fifteen, when I had occasion to journey to a certain city, and set out thither with great store of merchandise. Now my wife had studied sorcery and magic from her youth: so, I being gone, she turned my son into a calf and his mother into a cow and delivered them both to the cowherd: and when, after a long absence, I returned from my journey and inquired after my son and his mother, my wife said to me, "Thy slave died and her son ran away, whither I know not." I abode for the space of a year, mournful-hearted and weeping-eyed, till the coming of the Greater Festival, when I sent to the herdsman and bade him bring me a fat cow for the purpose of sacrifice. So he brought me the very cow into which my wife had changed my concubine by her art; and I tucked up my skirts and taking the knife in my hand, went up to the cow to slaughter her; but she lowed and moaned so piteously, that I was seized with wonder and compassion and held my hand from her and said to the herd, "Bring me another cow." "Not so!" cried my wife. "Slaughter this one, for we have no finer nor fatter." So I went up to her again, but she cried out, and I left her and ordered the herdsman to kill her and skin her. So he killed her and flayed her, but found on her neither fat nor flesh, only skin and bone. Then I was sorry for having slain her, when repentance availed me not; and I gave her to the herd and said to him, "Bring me a fat calf." So he brought me my son in the guise of a calf; and when he saw me, he broke his halter and came up to me and fawned on me and moaned and wept, till I took pity on him and said to the man, "Bring me a cow and let this calf go." But my wife cried out at me and said, "Not so: thou must sacrifice this calf and none other to-day: for it is a holy and a blessed day, on which it behoves us to offer up none but a good thing, and we have no calf fatter or finer than this one." Quoth I, "Look at the condition of the cow I slaughtered by thine order; we were deceived in her, and now I will not be persuaded by thee to slay this calf this time." "By the great God, the Compassionate, the Merciful," answered she, "thou must without fail sacrifice this calf on this holy day! Else thou art no longer my husband nor am I thy wife." When I heard this harsh speech from her, I went up to the calf, knowing not what she aimed at, and took the knife in my hand.'" Here Shehrzad perceived the day and was silent; and her sister said to her, "What a charming and delightful story!" Quoth Shehrzad, "This is nothing to what I will tell thee to-morrow night, if the King let me live." And the King said to himself, "By Allah, I will not kill her, till I hear the rest of the story!" So they lay together till morning, when the King went out to his hall of audience and the Vizier came in to him, with the winding-sheet under his arm. Then the King ordered and appointed and deposed, without telling the Vizier aught of what had happened, much to the former's surprise, until the end of the day, when the Divan broke up and he retired to his apartments.

And when it was the second night

Dunyazad said to her sister Shehrzad, "O my sister, finish us thy story of the merchant and the genie." "With all my heart," answered she, "if the King give me leave." The king bade her "Say on." So she began as follows: "It has reached me, O august king and wise governor, that the first old man continued his story as follows: 'O lord of the Kings of the Jinn, as I was about to kill the calf, my heart failed me and I said to the herdsman, "Keep this calf with the rest of the cattle." So he took it and went away. Next day the herd came to me, as I was sitting by myself, and said to me, "O my lord, I have that to tell thee will rejoice thee, and I claim a reward for good news." Quoth I, "It is well." And he said, "O merchant, I have a daughter, who learnt the art of magic in her youth from an old woman who lived with us, and yesterday, when I took home the calf that thou gavest me, she looked at it and veiled her face and fell a-weeping. Then she laughed and said to me, 'O my father, am I become of so little account in thine eyes that thou bringest in to me strange men?' 'Where are the strange men?' asked I. 'And why dost thou weep and laugh?' Quoth she, 'The calf thou hast there is our master's son, who has been enchanted, as well as his mother, by his father's wife. This is why I laughed: and I wept for his mother, because his father slaughtered her.' I wondered exceedingly at this and the day had no sooner broken than I came to tell thee." When (continued the old man) I heard the herdsman's story, O genie, I went out with him, drunken without wine for stress of joy and gladness, and accompanied him to his house, where his daughter welcomed me and kissed my hand; and the calf came up to me and fawned on me. Said I to the girl, "Is it true what I hear about this calf?" "Yes, O my lord," answered she, "this is indeed thy son and the darling of thy heart." So I said to her, "O damsel, if thou wilt release him, all that is under thy father's hand of beasts and goods shall be thine!" But she smiled and said, "O my lord, I care not for wealth, but I will do what thou desirest upon two conditions, the first that thou marry me to this thy son, and the second that thou permit me to bewitch the sorceress and imprison her (in the shape of a beast); else I shall not be safe from her craft." I answered, "Besides what thou seekest, thou shalt have all that is under thy father's hand, and as to my wife, it shall be lawful to thee to shed her blood, if thou wilt." When she heard this, she took a cup full of water, and conjured over it; then sprinkled the calf with the water, saying, "If thou be a calf by the creation of the Almighty, abide in that form and change not: but if thou be enchanted, return to thine original form, with the permission of God the Most High!" With that he shook and became a man: and I fell upon him and said to him, "For God's sake, tell me what my wife did with thee and thy mother." So he told me what had befallen them and I said to him, "O my son, God hath sent thee one to deliver and avenge thee." Then I married him to the herdsman's daughter, and she transformed my wife into this gazelle, saying to me, "I have given her this graceful form for thy sake, that thou mayest look on her without aversion." She dwelt with us days and nights and nights and days, till God took her to Himself; and after her death, my son set out on a journey to the land of Ind, which is this merchant's native country; and after awhile, I took the gazelle and travelled with her from place to place, seeking news of my son, till chance led me to this garden, where I found this merchant sitting weeping; and this is my story.' Quoth the genie, 'This is indeed a rare story, and I remit to thee a third part of his blood.' Then came forward the second old man, he of the two greyhounds, and said to the genie, 'I will tell thee my story with these two dogs, and if thou find it still rarer and more marvellous, do thou remit to me another third part of his blood. Quoth the genie, 'I agree to this.' Then said the second old man, 'Know, O lord of the Kings of the Jinn, that

The Second Old Man's Story.

These two dogs are my elder brothers. Our father died and left us three thousand dinars,[FN#11] and I opened a shop that I might buy and sell therein, and my brothers did each the like. But before long, my eldest brother sold his stock for a thousand dinars and bought goods and merchandise and setting out on his travels, was absent a whole year. One day, as I was sitting in my shop, a beggar stopped before me and I said to him, "God assist thee!"[FN#12] But he said to me, weeping, "Dost thou not recognize me?" I took note of him, and behold, it was my brother. So I rose and welcomed him and made him sit down by me and inquired how he came in such a case: but he answered, "Do not ask me: my wealth is wasted and fortune has turned her back on me." Then I carried him to the bath and clad him in one of my own suits and took him to live with me. Moreover, I cast up my accounts and found that I had made a thousand dinars profit, so that my capital was now two thousand dinars. I divided this between my brother and myself, saying to him, "Put it that thou hast never travelled nor been abroad." He took it gladly and opened a shop with it. Presently, my second brother arose like the first and sold his goods and all that belonged to him and determined to travel. We would have dissuaded him, but he would not be dissuaded and bought merchandise with which he set out on his travels, and we saw no more of him for a whole year; at the end of which time he came to us as had done his elder brother, and I said to him, "O my brother, did I not counsel thee not to travel?" And he wept and said, "O my brother, it was decreed: and behold, I am poor, without a dirhem [FN#13] or a shirt to my back." Then I carried him to the bath and clad him in a new suit of my own and brought him back to my shop, where we ate and drank together; after which, I said to him, "O my brother, I will make up the accounts of my shop, as is my wont once a year, and the increase shall be between thee and me." So I arose and took stock and found I was worth two thousand dinars increase, in excess of capital, wherefore I praised the Divine Creator and gave my brother a thousand dinars, with which he opened a shop. In this situation we remained for some time, till one day, my brothers came to me and would have me go on a voyage with them; but I refused and said to them, "What did your travels profit you, that I should look to profit by the same venture?" And I would not listen to them; so we abode in our shops, buying and selling, and every year they pressed me to travel, and I declined, until six years had elapsed. At last I yielded to their wishes and said to them, "O my brothers, I will make a voyage with you, but first let me see what you are worth." So I looked into their affairs and found they had nothing left, having wasted all their substance in eating and drinking and merrymaking. However, I said not a word of reproach to them, but sold my stock and got in all I had and found I was worth six thousand dinars. So I rejoiced and divided the sum into two equal parts and said to my brothers, "These three thousand dinars are for you and me to trade with." The other three thousand I buried, in case what befell them should befall me also, so that we might still have, on our return, wherewithal to open our shops again. They were content and I gave them each a thousand dinars and kept the like myself. Then we provided ourselves with the necessary merchandise and equipped ourselves for travel and chartered a ship, which we freighted with our goods. After a month's voyage, we came to a city, in which we sold our goods at a profit of ten dinars on every one (of prime cost). And as we were about to take ship again, we found on the beach a damsel in tattered clothes, who kissed my hand and said to me, "O my lord, is there in thee kindness and charity? I will requite thee for them." Quoth I, "Indeed I love to do courtesy and charity, though I be not requited." And she said, "O my lord, I beg thee to marry me and clothe me and take me back to thy country, for I give myself to thee. Entreat me courteously, for indeed I am of those whom it behoves to use with kindness and consideration; and I will requite thee therefor: do not let my condition prejudice thee." When I heard what she said, my heart inclined to her, that what God (to whom belong might and majesty) willed might come to pass. So I carried her with me and clothed her and spread her a goodly bed in the ship and went in to her and made much of her. Then we set sail again and indeed my heart clove to her with a great love and I left her not night nor day and occupied myself with her to the exclusion of my brothers. Wherefore they were jealous of me and envied me my much substance; and they looked upon it with covetous eyes and took counsel together to kill me and to take my goods, saying, "Let us kill our brother, and all will be ours." And Satan made this to seem good in their eyes. So they took me sleeping beside my wife and lifted us both up and threw us into the sea. When my wife awoke, she shook herself and becoming an Afriteh,[FN#14] took me up and carried me to an island, where she left me for awhile. In the morning, she returned and said to me, "I have paid thee my debt, for it is I who bore thee up out of the sea and saved thee from death, by permission of God the Most High. Know that I am of the Jinn who believe in God and His Apostle (whom God bless and preserve!) and I saw thee and loved thee for God's sake. So I came to thee in the plight thou knowest of and thou didst marry me, and now I have saved thee from drowning. But I am wroth with thy brothers, and needs must I kill them." When I heard her words, I wondered and thanked her for what she had done and begged her not to kill my brothers. Then I told her all that had passed between us, and she said, "This very night will I fly to them and sink their ship and make an end of them." "God on thee," answered I, "do not do this, for the proverb says, 'O thou who dost good to those who do evil, let his deeds suffice the evil doer!' After all, they are my brothers." Quoth she, "By Allah, I must kill them." And I besought her till she lifted me up and flying away with me, set me down on the roof of my own house, where she left me. I went down and unlocked the doors and brought out what I had hidden under the earth and opened my shop, after I had saluted the folk and bought goods. At nightfall, I returned home and found these two dogs tied up in the courtyard: and when they saw me, they came up to me and wept and fawned on me. At the same moment, my wife presented herself and said to me, "These are thy brothers." "Who has done this thing unto them?" asked I; and she answered, "I sent to my sister, who turned them into this form, and they shall not be delivered from the enchantment till after ten years." Then she left me, after telling me where to find her; and now, the ten years having expired, I was carrying the dogs to her, that she might release them, when I fell in with this merchant, who acquainted me with what had befallen him. So I determined not to leave him, till I saw what passed between thee and him: and this is my story.' 'This is indeed a rare story,' said the genie, 'and I remit to thee a third part of his blood and his crime.' Then came forward the third old man, he of the mule, and said, 'O genie, I will tell thee a story still more astonishing than the two thou hast heard, and do thou remit to me the remainder of his blood and crime.' The genie replied, 'It is well.' So the third old man said, 'Know, O Sultan and Chief of the Jinn, that

The Third Old Man's Story.

This mule was my wife. Some time ago, I had occasion to travel and was absent from her a whole year; at the end of which time I returned home by night and found my wife in bed with a black slave, talking and laughing and toying and kissing and dallying. When she saw me, she made haste and took a mug of water and muttered over it; then came up to me and sprinkled me with the water, saying, "Leave this form for that of a dog!" And immediately I became a dog. She drove me from the house, and I went out of the door and ceased not running till I came to a butcher's shop, where I stopped and began to eat the bones. The butcher took me and carried me into his house; but when his daughter saw me, she veiled her face and said to her father, "How is it that thou bringest a man in to me?" "Where is the man?" asked he; and she replied, "This dog is a man, whose wife has enchanted him, and I can release him." When her father heard this, he said, "I conjure thee by Allah, O my daughter, release him!" So she took a mug of water and muttered over it, then sprinkled a little of it on me, saying, "Leave this shape and return to thy former one." And immediately I became a man again and kissed her hand and begged her to enchant my wife as she had enchanted me. So she gave me a little of the water and said to me, "When thou seest her asleep, sprinkle her with this water and repeat the words thou hast heard me use, naming the shape thou wouldst have her take, and she will become whatever thou wishest." So I took the water and returned home and went in to my wife. I found her asleep and sprinkled the water upon her, saying, "Quit this form for that of a mule." And she at once became a mule; and this is she whom thou seest before thee, O Sultan and Chief of the Kings of the Jinn!' Then he said to the mule, 'Is it true?' And she nodded her head and made signs as who should say, 'Yes, indeed: this is my history and what befell me.'" Here Shehrzad perceived the day and was silent. And Dunyazad said to her, "O my sister, what a delightful story is this of thine!" "This is nothing," answered Shehrzad, "to what I will tell thee to-morrow night, if the King let me live." Quoth the King to himself, "By Allah, I will not put her to death till I hear the rest of her story, for it is wonderful." And they lay together till the morning. Then the King rose and betook himself to his audience-chamber, and the Vizier and the troops presented themselves and the Court was full. The King judged and appointed and deposed and ordered and forbade till the end of the day, when the Divan broke up and he returned to his apartments.

And when it was the third night

and the King had taken his will of the Vizier's daughter, Dunyazad said to her sister, "O my sister, finish us thy story." "With all my heart," answered Shehrzad. "Know, O august King, that when the genie heard the third old man's story, he marvelled exceedingly and shook with delight and said, 'I remit to thee the remainder of his crime.' Then he released the merchant, who went up to the three old men and thanked them; and they gave him joy of his escape and returned, each to his own country. Nor is this more wonderful than the story of the Fisherman and the Genie." "What is that?" asked the King: and she said, "I have heard tell, O august King, that

THE FISHERMAN AND THE GENIE.

There was once a poor fisherman, who was getting on in years and had a wife and three children; and it was his custom every day to cast his net four times and no more. One day he went out at the hour of noon and repaired to the sea-shore, where he set down his basket and tucked up his skirts and plunging into the sea, cast his net and waited till it had settled down in the water. Then he gathered the cords in his hand and found it heavy and pulled at it, but could not bring it up. So he carried the end of the cords ashore and drove in a stake, to which he made them fast. Then he stripped and diving round the net, tugged at it till he brought it ashore. Whereat he rejoiced and landing, put on his clothes; but when he came to examine the net, he found in it a dead ass; and the net was torn. When he saw this, he was vexed and said: 'There is no power and no virtue save in God the Most High, the Supreme! This is indeed strange luck!' And he repeated the following verses:

O thou that strivest in the gloom of darkness and distress, Cut
     short thine efforts, for in strife alone lies not success!
Seest not the fisherman that seeks his living in the sea, Midmost
     the network of the stars that round about him press!
Up to his midst he plunges in: the billows buffet him; But from
     the bellying net his eyes cease not in watchfulness;
Till when, contented with his night, he carries home a fish,
     Whose throat the hand of Death hath slit with trident
     pitiless,
Comes one who buys his prey of him, one who has passed the night,
     Safe from the cold, in all delight of peace and blessedness.
Praise be to God who gives to this and cloth to that deny! Some
     fish, and others eat the fish caught with such toil and
     stress.

Then he said, 'Courage! I shall have better luck next time, please God!' And repeated the following verses:

If misfortune assail thee, clothe thyself thereagainst With
     patience, the part of the noble: 'twere wiselier done.
Complain not to men: that were indeed to complain, To those that
     have no mercy, of the Merciful One.

So saying, he threw out the dead ass and wrung the net and spread it out. Then he went down into the sea and cast again, saying, 'In the name of God!' and waited till the net had settled down in the water, when he pulled the cords and finding it was heavy and resisted more than before, thought it was full of fish. So he made it fast to the shore and stripped and dived into the water round the net, till he got it free. Then he hauled at it till he brought it ashore, but found in it nothing but a great jar full of sand and mud. When he saw this, he groaned aloud and repeated the following verses:

Anger of Fate, have pity and forbear, Or at the least hold back
     thy hand and spare!
I sally forth to seek my daily bread And find my living vanished
     into air.
How many a fool's exalted to the stars, Whilst sages hidden in
     the mire must fare!

Then he threw out the jar and wrung out and cleansed his net: after which he asked pardon of God the Most High[FN#15] and returning to the sea a third time, cast the net. He waited till it had settled down, then pulled it up and found in it potsherds and bones and broken bottles: whereat he was exceeding wroth and wept and recited the following verses:

Fortune's with God: thou mayst not win to bind or set it free:
     Nor letter-lore nor any skill can bring good hap to thee.
Fortune, indeed, and benefits by Fate are lotted out: One
     country's blest with fertile fields, whilst others sterile
     be.
The shifts of evil chance cast down full many a man of worth And
     those, that merit not, uplift to be of high degree.
So come to me, O Death! for life is worthless verily; When
     falcons humbled to the dust and geese on high we see.
'Tis little wonder if thou find the noble-minded poor, What while
     the loser by main force usurps his sovranty.
One bird will traverse all the earth and fly from East to West:
     Another hath his every wish although no step stir he.

Then he lifted his eyes to heaven and said, 'O my God, Thou knowest that I cast my net but four times a day; and now I have cast it three times and have taken nothing. Grant me then, O my God, my daily bread this time!' So he said, 'In the name of God!' and cast his net and waited till it had settled down in the water, then pulled it, but could not bring it up, for it was caught in the bottom Whereupon, 'There is no power and no virtue but in God!' said he and repeated the following verses:

Away with the world, if it be like this, away! My part in it's
     nought but misery and dismay!
Though the life of a man in the morning be serene, He must drink
     of the cup of woe ere ended day.
And yet if one asked, 'Who's the happiest man alive?' The people
     would point to me and 'He' would say.

Then he stripped and dived down to the net and strove with it till he brought it to shore, where he opened it and found in it a brazen vessel, full and stoppered with lead, on which was impressed the seal of our lord Solomon, son of David (on whom be peace!). When he saw this, he was glad and said, 'I will sell this in the copper market, for it is worth half a score diners.' Then he shook it and found it heavy and said to himself, 'I wonder what is inside! I will open it and see what is in it, before I sell it.' So he took out a knife and worked at the leaden seal, till he extracted it from the vessel and laid it aside. Then he turned the vase mouth downward and shook it, to turn out its contents; but nothing came out, and he wondered greatly and laid it on the ground. Presently, there issued from it a smoke, which rose up towards the sky and passed over the face of the earth; then gathered itself together and condensed and quivered and became an Afrit, whose head was in the clouds and his feet in the dust. His head was like a dome, his hands like pitchforks, his legs like masts, his mouth like a cavern, his teeth like rocks, his nostrils like trumpets, his eyes like lamps, and he was stern and lowering of aspect. When the fisherman saw the Afrit, he trembled in every limb; his teeth chattered and his spittle dried up and he knew not what to do. When the Afrit saw him, he said, 'There is no god but God, and Solomon is His prophet! O prophet of God, do not kill me, for I will never again disobey thee or cross thee, either in word or deed !' Quoth the fisherman, 'O Marid,[FN#16] thou sayest, "Solomon is the prophet of God." Solomon is dead these eighteen hundred years, and we are now at the end of time. But what is thy history and how comest thou in this vessel?' When the Marid heard this, he said, 'There is no god but God! I have news for thee, O fisherman!' 'What news?' asked he, and the Afrit answered, 'Even that I am about to slay thee without mercy.' 'O chief of the Afrits,' said the fisherman, 'thou meritest the withdrawal of God's protection from thee for saying this! Why wilt thou kill me and what calls for my death? Did I not deliver thee from the abysses of the sea and bring thee to land and release thee from the vase?' Quoth the Afrit, 'Choose what manner of death thou wilt die and how thou wilt be killed.' 'What is my crime?' asked the fisherman. 'Is this my reward for setting thee free?' The Afrit answered, 'Hear my story, O fisherman!' 'Say on and be brief,' quoth he, 'for my heart is in my mouth.' Then said the Afrit, 'Know, O fisherman, that I was of the schismatic Jinn and rebelled against Solomon son of David (on whom be peace!), I and Sekhr the genie; and he sent his Vizier Asef teen Berkhiya, who took me by force and bound me and carried me, in despite of myself, before Solomon, who invoked God's aid against me and exhorted me to embrace the Faith[FN#17] and submit to his authority: but I refused. Then he sent for this vessel and shut me up in it and stoppered it with lead and sealed it with the Most High Name and commanded the Jinn to take me and throw me into the midst of the sea. There I remained a hundred years, and I said in my heart, "Whoso releaseth me, I will make him rich for ever." But the hundred years passed and no one came to release me, and I entered on another century and said, "Whoso releaseth me, I will open to him the treasures of the earth" But none released me, and other four hundred years passed over me, and I said, "Whoso releaseth me, I will grant him three wishes." But no one set me free. Then I was exceeding wroth and said to myself, "Henceforth, whoso releaseth me, I will kill him and let him choose what death he will die." And now, thou hast released me, and I give thee thy choice of deaths.' When the fisherman heard this, he exclaimed, 'O God, the pity of it that I should not have come to release thee till now!' Then he said to the Afrit, 'Spare me, that God may spare thee, and do not destroy me, lest God set over thee one who will destroy thee.' But he answered, 'There is no help for it, I must kill thee: so choose what death thou wilt die.' The fisherman again returned to the charge, saying, 'Spare me for that I set thee free.' 'Did I not tell thee,' replied the Marid, 'that is why I kill thee?' 'O head of the Afrits,' said the fisherman, 'I did thee a kindness, and thou repayest me with evil: indeed the proverb lieth not that saith:

"We did them good, and they the contrary returned: And this, upon
     my life, is what the wicked do!
Who helps those, that deserve it not, shall be repaid As the
     hyæna paid the man that helped her through."'

'Make no more words about it,' said the Afrit; 'thou must die.' Quoth the fisherman to himself, 'This is a genie, and I am a man; and God hath given me a good wit. So I will contrive for his destruction by my wit and cunning, even as he plotted mine of his craft and perfidy.' Then he said to the Afrit, 'Is there no help for it, but thou must kill me?' He answered, 'No,' and the fisherman said, 'I conjure thee, by the Most High Name graven upon the ring of Solomon son of David (on whom be peace!), answer me one question truly.' When the Afrit heard him mention the Most High Name, he was agitated and trembled and replied, 'It is well: ask and be brief.' Quoth the fisherman, 'This vessel would not suffice for thy hand or thy foot: so how could it hold the whole of thee?' Said the Afrit, 'Dost thou doubt that I was in it?' 'Yes,' answered the fisherman; 'nor will I believe it till I see it with my own eyes.'" Here Shehrzad perceived the day and was silent.

And when it was the fourth night[FN#18]

Dunyazad said to her sister, "O sister, an thou be not asleep, finish us thy story." So Shehrzad began, "I have heard tell, O august King, that, when he heard what the fisherman said, the Afrit shook and became a smoke over the sea, which drew together and entered the vessel little by little, till it was all inside. Whereupon the fisherman made haste to take the leaden stopper and clapping it on the mouth of the vessel, called out to the Afrit, saying, 'Choose what death thou wilt die! By Allah, I will throw thee back into the sea and build myself a house hard by, and all who come hither I will warn against fishing here, and say to them, "There is an Afrit in these waters, that gives those who pull him out their choice of deaths and how he shall kill them."' When the Afrit heard this and found himself shut up in the vessel, he knew that the fisherman had outwitted him and strove to get out, but could not, for Solomon's seal prevented him; so he said to the fisherman, 'I did but jest with thee.' 'Thou liest, O vilest and meanest and foulest of Afrits!' answered he, and rolled the vessel to the brink of the sea; which when the Afrit felt, he cried out, 'No! No!' And the fisherman said, 'Yes! Yes!' Then the Afrit made his voice small and humbled himself and said, 'What wilt thou do with me, O fisherman?' 'I mean to throw thee back into the sea,' replied he; 'since thou hast lain there already eighteen hundred years, thou shalt lie there now till the hour of judgment. Did I not say to thee, "Spare me, so God may spare thee; and do not kill me, lest God kill thee?" but thou spurnedst my prayers and wouldst deal with me no otherwise than perfidiously. So I used cunning with thee and now God has delivered thee into my hand.' Said the Afrit, 'Let me out, that I may confer benefits on thee.' The fisherman answered, 'Thou liest, O accursed one! Thou and I are like King Younan's Vizier and the physician Douban.' 'Who are they,' asked the Afrit, 'and what is their story?' Then said the fisherman, 'Know, O Afrit, that

Story of the Physician Douban.

There was once in a city of Persia a powerful and wealthy king, named Younan, who had guards and troops and auxiliaries of every kind: but he was afflicted with a leprosy, which defied the efforts of his physicians and wise men. He took potions and powders and used ointments, but all to no avail, and not one of the doctors could cure him. At last, there came to the King's capital city a great physician, stricken in years, whose name was Douban: and he had studied many books, Greek, ancient and modern, and Persian and Turkish and Arabic and Syriac and Hebrew, and was skilled in medicine and astrology, both theoretical and practical. Moreover he was familiar with all plants and herbs and grasses, whether harmful or beneficial, and was versed in the learning of the philosophers; in brief, he had made himself master of all sciences, medical and other. He had not been long in the town before he heard of the leprosy with which God had afflicted the King, and of the failure of the physicians and men of science to cure him; whereupon he passed the night in study; and when the day broke and the morning appeared and shone, he donned his richest apparel and went in to the King and kissing the ground before him, wished him enduring honour and fair fortune, in the choicest words at his command. Then he told him who he was and said to him, "O King, I have learnt what has befallen thee in thy person and how a multitude of physicians have failed to find a means of ridding thee of it: but I will cure thee, O King, and that without giving thee to drink of medicine or anointing thee with ointment." When the King heard this, he wondered and said to him, "How wilt thou do this? By Allah, if thou cure me, I will enrich thee, even to thy children's children, and I will heap favours on thee, and whatever thou desirest shalt be shine, and thou shalt be my companion and my friend." Then he gave him a dress of honour and made much of him, saying, "Wilt thou indeed cure me without drugs or ointment?" "Yes," answered Douban, "I will cure thee from without." Whereat the King marvelled exceedingly and said, "O physician, when wilt thou do as thou hast said? Make haste, O my son!" Quoth Douban, "I hear and obey: it shall be done tomorrow." And he went down into the city and hired a house, in which he deposited his books and medicines. Then he took certain drugs and simples and fashioned them into a mall, which he hollowed out and made thereto a handle and a ball, adapted to it by his art. Next morning he presented himself before the King and kissing the ground before him, ordered him to repair to the tilting ground and play at mall there. So the King mounted and repaired thither with his amirs and chamberlains and viziers, and hardly had he reached the appointed place when the physician Douban came up and presented him with the mall and ball he had prepared, saying, "Take this mall and grip the handle thus and drive into the plain and stretch thyself well and strike this ball till thy hand and thy body sweat, when the drugs will penetrate thy hand and permeate thy body. When thou hast done and the medicine has entered into thee, return to thy palace and enter the bath and wash. Then sleep awhile and thou wilt awake cured, and peace be on thee!" The King took the mall and mounting a swift horse, threw the ball before him and drove after it with all his might and smote it: and his hand gripped the mall firmly. And he ceased not to drive after the bail and strike it, till his hand and all his body sweated, and Douban knew that the drugs had taken effect upon him and ordered him to return and enter the bath at once. So the King returned immediately and ordered the bath to be emptied for him. They turned the people out of the bath, and his servants and attendants hastened thither and made him ready change of linen and all that was necessary: and he went in and washed himself well and put on his clothes. Then he came out of the bath and went up to his palace and slept there. When he awoke, he looked at his body and found it clean as virgin silver, having no trace left of the leprosy: whereat he rejoiced exceedingly and his breast expanded with gladness. Next morning, he repaired to the Divan and sat down on his chair of estate, and the chamberlains and grandees attended on him. Presently, the physician Douban presented himself and kissed the earth before the king and repeated the following verses:

The virtues all exalted are, when thou art styled their sire:
     None else the title dares accept, of all that men admire.
Lord of the radiant brow, whose light dispels the mists of doubt
     From every goal of high emprize whereunto folk aspire,
Ne'er may thy visage cease to shine with glory and with joy,
     Although the face of Fate should gloom with unremitting ire!
Even as the clouds pour down their dews upon the thirsting hills,
     Thy grace pours favour on my head, outrunning my desire.
With liberal hand thou casteth forth thy bounties far and nigh,
     And so hast won those heights of fame thou soughtest to
     acquire.

The King rose to him in haste and embraced him and made him sit down and clad him in a splendid dress of honour. Then tables of rich food were brought in, and Douban ate with the King and ceased not to bear him company all that day. When it was night, the King gave him two thousand diners, besides other presents, and mounted him on his own horse; and the physician returned to his lodging, leaving the King astonished at his skill and saying, "This man cured me from without, without using ointments. By Allah, this is none other than consummate skill! And it behoves me to honour and reward him and make him my companion and bosom friend to the end of time." The King passed the night in great content, rejoicing in the soundness of his body and his deliverance from his malady. On the morrow, he went out and sat down on his throne; and the grandees stood before him, whilst the amirs and viziers sat on his right hand and on his left. Then he sent for the physician, who came and kissed the ground before him, whereupon the King rose to him and made him sit by his side and eat with him, and ceased not to converse with him and make much of him till night; when he commanded five dresses of honour and a thousand diners to be given to him, and he returned to his house, well contented with the King. Next morning, the King repaired as usual to his council-chamber, and the amirs and viziers and chamberlains took their places round him. Now he had among his viziers one who was forbidding of aspect, sordid, avaricious and envious: a man of ill omen, naturally inclined to malevolence: and when he saw the esteem in which the King held Douban and the favours he bestowed on him, he envied him and plotted evil against him; for, as says the byword, "Nobody is free from envy"—and again—"Tyranny is latent in the soul: weakness hides it and strength reveals it." So he came to the King and kissed the earth before him and said to him "O King of the age, thou in whose bounties I have grown up, I have a grave warning to give thee, which did I conceal from thee, I were a son of shame: wherefore, if thou command me to impart it to thee, I will do so." Quoth the King (and indeed the Vizier's words troubled him), "What is thy warning?" "O illustrious King," answered the Vizier, "the ancients have a saying, 'Whoso looks not to the issue of events, fortune is no friend of his :' and indeed I see the King in other than the right way, in that he favours his enemy, who seeks the downfall of his kingdom, and makes much of him and honours him exceedingly and is beyond measure familiar with him: and of a truth I am fearful for the King." Quoth King Younan (and indeed he was troubled and his colour changed), "Of whom dost thou speak?" The Vizier answered, "If thou sleepest, awake. I mean the physician Douban." "Out on thee!" said the King. "He is my true friend and the dearest of all men to me; seeing that he medicined me by means of a thing I held in my hand and cured me of my leprosy, which the doctors were unable to cure; and there is not his like to be found in this time, no, not in the whole world, East nor West; and it is of him that thou speakest thus! But from to-day I will assign him stipends and allowances and appoint him a thousand diners a month: and if I should share my kingdom with him, it were but a little thing. Methinks thou sayest this out of pure envy and wouldst have me kill him and after repent, as King Sindbad repented the killing of his falcon." "Pardon me, O King of the age," said the Vizier, "but how was that! Quoth the King, "It is said that

King Sindbad and His Falcon.

There was once a King of Persia, who delighted in hunting; and he had reared a falcon, that left him not day or night, but slept all night long, perched upon his hand. Whenever he went out to hunt, he took the falcon with him; and he let make for it a cup of gold to hang round its neck, that he might give it to drink therein. One day, his chief falconer came in to him and said, 'O King, now is the time to go a-hunting.' So the King gave orders accordingly and took the falcon on his wrist and set out, accompanied by his officers and attendants. They rode on till they reached a valley, where they formed the circle of the chase, and behold, a gazelle entered the ring; whereupon quoth the King, 'Whoso lets the gazelle spring over his head, I will kill him.' Then they drew the ring closelier round her, and behold, she came to the King's station and standing still, put her forelegs to her breast, as if to kill the earth before him. He bowed to her, but she sprang over his head and was off into the desert. The King saw his attendants nodding and winking to one another about him and said to his Vizier, 'O Vizier, what say my men?' 'They say,' answered the Vizier, that thou didst threaten to kill him over whose head the gazelle should spring.' 'As my head liveth,' rejoined the King, 'I will follow her up, till I bring her back!' So he pricked on after her and followed her till he came to a mountain and she made for her lair; but the King cast off the falcon, which swooped down on her and pecked at her eyes, till he blinded her and dazed her; whereupon the King threw his mace at her and brought her down. Then he alighted and cut her throat and skinned her and made her fast to his saddle-bow. Now it was the hour of midday rest and the place, where he was, was desert, and the King was athirst and so was his horse. So he searched till he saw a tree, with water dripping slowly, like oil, from its branches. Now the King's hands were gloved with leather;[FN#19] so he took the cup from the falcon's neck and filled it with the liquid and set it before himself, when behold, the falcon smote the cup and overturned it. The King took it and refilled it with the falling drops and set it before the bird, thinking that it was athirst: but it smote it again and overturned it. At this, the King was vexed with the falcon and rose and filled the cup a third time and set it before the horse: but the falcon again overturned it with its wing. Then said the King, 'God confound thee, thou most mischievous of fowls, thou wilt neither drink thyself nor let me nor the horse drink!' And he smote it with his sword and cut off its wings: whereupon it erected its head and made signs as who should say, 'Look what is at the top of the tree.' The King raised his eyes and saw at the top of the tree a brood of snakes, and this was their venom dripping, which he had taken for water. So he repented him of having cut off the falcon's wings and mounting, rode on till he reached his tents and gave the gazelle to the cook to roast. Then he sat down on his chair, with the falcon on his wrist: and presently the bird gasped and died: whereupon the King cried out in sorrow and lament for having slain the bird that had saved him from death, and repented him when repentance availed him not. This, then, is the story of King Sindbad; and as for thee, O Vizier, envy hath entered into thee, and thou wouldst have me kill the physician and after repent, even as King Sindbad repented." "O mighty King," answered the Vizier, "what harm has this physician done me that I should wish his death? Indeed I only do this thing in compassion for thee and that thou mayst know the truth of the matter: else may I perish as perished the Vizier who plotted to destroy the king his master's son." "How was that? asked the King, and the Vizier replied, "Know, O King, that

The King's Son and the Ogress.

There was once a King's son who was passionately fond of the chase; and his father had charged one of his Viziers to attend him wherever he went. One day, the prince went out to hunt, accompanied by the Vizier, and as they were going along, they saw a great wild beast, whereupon the Vizier said to the prince, 'Up and after yonder beast!' So the prince rode after the beast and followed it, till he was lost to sight. After awhile, the beast disappeared in the desert, and the prince found himself alone, not knowing which way to turn. Presently he came upon a damsel, weeping, and said to her, 'Who art thou?' Quoth she, 'I am the daughter of one of the Kings of India, and I was journeying through this country, with a company of people, when sleep overcame me and I fell from my horse, not knowing what I did. My people did not note my fall and went on and left me; and now I am alone and bewildered.' When the prince heard this, he had pity on her case and took her up behind himself and they rode on, till they came to some ruins; when she said to him, 'O my lord, I wish to do an occasion here.' So he put her down, and she entered the ruins and tarried there till he became impatient and went in search of her; when he was ware that she was an ogress, and heard her say to her children, 'O my children, I have brought you to day a fat youth.' 'O mother,' answered they, 'bring him to us, that we may browse on him our bellyful.' When the prince heard this their talk, he trembled in every nerve and made sure of destruction and turned back. The ogress came out after him and finding him terrified and trembling, said to him, 'Why dost thou fear?' Quoth he, 'I have an enemy, of whom I am in fear.' 'Didst thou not say that thou wast a King's son?' asked she, and he answered 'Yes.' 'Then,'said she, 'why dost thou not give thine enemy money and so appease him?' He replied, 'Indeed he will not be satisfied with money nor with aught but life; and I fear him and am an oppressed man.' 'If thou be oppressed as thou sayst,' rejoined she, 'ask help of God; surely He will protect thee from thine enemy and from the mischief thou fearest from him.' So the prince raised his eyes to heaven and said, 'O Thou that answerest the prayer of the distressed, when they call on Thee, and dispellest evil from them, O my God, succour me against mine enemy and turn him back from me, for Thou indeed canst do whatsoever Thou wilt.' When the ogress heard his prayer, she departed from him and he resumed to the King his father and informed him of the Vizier's conduct: whereupon the King sent for the latter and put him to death. And thou, O King" (continued the envious Vizier), "if thou put thy trust in this physician, he will kill thee in the foulest fashion. He, verily, whom thou hast favoured and admitted to thy friendship, plots thy destruction: for know that he is a spy come from a far land with intent to destroy thee. Seest thou not that he cured thee of thy distemper from without, by means of a thing held in thy hand, and how canst thou be sure that he will not kill thee by some like means?" "Thou speakest sooth, O Vizier of good counsel!" said the King. "It must indeed be as thou sayst; this physician doubtless comes as a spy, seeking to destroy me; and indeed, if he could cure me by means of a handle held in my hand, he can kill me by means of something I shall smell. But what is to be done with him?" "Send after him at once," answered the Vizier, "and when he comes, strike off his head and play him false, ere he play thee false; and so shalt thou ward off his mischief and be at peace from him." "Thou art right, O Vizier," rejoined the King and sent for the physician, who came, rejoicing, for he knew not what the Compassionate had decreed unto him. As the saying runs:

Thou that fearest ill fortune, be of good heart and hope! Trust
     thine affairs to Him who fashioned the earth and sea!
What is decreed of God surely shall come to pass; That which is
     not decreed never shall trouble thee.

When Douban entered, he recited the following verses:

If all the thanks I speak come short of that which is your due,
     Say for whom else my verse and prose I make except for you?
You have indeed prevented me with many an unasked boon, Blest me,
     unhindered of excuse, with favours not a few.
How then should I omit to give your praise its full desert And
     celebrate with heart and voice your goodness ever new?
I will indeed proclaim aloud the boons I owe to you, Favours,
     that, heavy to the hack, are light the thought unto.

And also the following:

Avert thy face from trouble and from care And trust in God to
     order thine affair.
Rejoice in happy fortune near at hand, In which thou shalt forget
     the woes that were.
Full many a weary and a troublous thing Is, in its issue,
     solaceful and fair.
God orders all according to His will: Oppose Him not in what He
     doth prepare.

And these also:

Trust thine affairs to the Subtle, to God that knoweth all, And
     rest at peace from the world, for nothing shall thee appal.
Know that the things of the world not, as thou wilt, befall, But
     as the Great God orders, to whom all kings are thrall!

And lastly these:

Take heart and rejoice and forget thine every woe, For even the
     wit of the wise is eaten away by care.
What shall thought-taking profit a helpless, powerless slave?
     Leave it and be at peace in joy enduring fore'er!

When he had finished, the King said to him, "Dost thou know why I have sent for thee?" And the physician answered, "None knoweth the hidden things save God the Most High." Quoth the King, "I have sent for thee to kill thee and put an end to thy life." Douban wondered greatly at these words and said, "O King, wherefore wilt thou kill me and what offence have I committed?" "I am told," replied Younan, "that thou art a spy and comest to kill me, but I will kill thee first." Then he cried out to his swordbearer, saying, "Strike off the head of this traitor and rid us of his mischief!" "Spare me," said Douban; "so may God spare thee; and kill me not, lest God kill thee!" And he repeated these words to him, even as I did to thee, O Afrit, and thou wouldst not spare me, but persistedst in thine intent to put me to death. Then the King said to Douban, "Verily I shall not be secure except I kill thee: for thou curedst me by means of a handle I held in my hand, and I have no assurance but thou wilt kill me by means of perfumes or otherwise." "O King," said Douban, "is this my reward from thee? Thou returnest evil for good?" The King replied, "It boots not: thou must die and that without delay." When the physician saw that the King was irrevocably resolved to kill him, he wept and lamented the good he had done to the undeserving, blaming himself for having sown in an ungrateful soil and repeating the following verses:

Maimouneh has no wit to guide her by, Although her sire among the
wise ranks high.
The man, who has no sense to rule his steps, Slips, he the ground
he treads on wet or dry.

Then the swordbearer came forward and bandaged his eyes and baring his sword, said to the King, "Have I thy leave to strike?" Whereupon the physician wept and said, "Spare me, so God may spare thee: and kill me not, lest God kill thee!" And he recited the following verses:

I acted in good faith and they betrayed: I came to nought: They
     prospered, whilst my loyalty brought me to evil case.
If that I live, I will to none good counsel give again: And if I
     die, good counsellors be curst of every race!

And he said to the King, "Is this my reward from thee? Thou givest me the crocodile's recompense." Quoth the King, "What is the story of the crocodile?" "I cannot tell it," answered Douban, "and I in this case; but, God on thee, spare me, so may He spare thee!" And he wept sore. Then one of the King's chief officers rose and said, "O King, grant me this man's life, for we see not that he has committed any offence against thee nor that he has done aught but cure thee of thy disorder, which baffled the doctors and sages." "Ye know not why I put him to death," answered the King: "it is because I believe him to be a spy, who hath been suborned to kill me and came hither with that intent: and verily he who cured me by means of a handle held in my hand can easily poison me in like manner. If I spare him, he will infallibly destroy me: so needs must I kill him, and then I shall feel myself safe." When the physician was convinced that there was no hope for him, but that the King would indeed put him to death, he said to the latter, "O King, if thou must indeed kill me, grant me a respite, that I may go to my house and discharge my last duties and dispose of my medical books and give my people and friends directions for my burial. Among my books is one that is a rarity of rarities, and I will make thee a present of it, that thou mayst lay it up in thy treasury." "And what is in this book?" asked the King. Quoth Douban, "It contains things without number: the least of its secret virtues is that if, when thou hast cut off my head, thou open the book, turn over six leaves and read three lines of the left-hand page, my head will speak and answer whatever questions thou shalt ask it." At this the King marvelled greatly and shook with delight and said, "O physician, will thy head indeed speak to me, after it is cut off?" And he answered, "Yes, O King." Quoth the King, "This is indeed wonderful!" And sent him under guard to his house, where Douban spent the remainder of the day in setting his affairs in order. Next day, the amirs and viziers and chamberlains and all the great officers and notables of the kingdom came to the court, and the presence chamber was like a flower garden. Presently the physician entered, bearing an old book and a small pot full of powder; and sitting down, called for a dish. So they brought him a dish, and he poured the powder therein and levelled it. Then he said, "O King, take this book, but do not open it till my head has been cut off, placed on this dish and pressed down on the powder, when the blood will cease to flow: then open the book and do as I have enjoined thee." The King took the book and gave the signal to the headsman, who rose and struck off the physician's head and set it on the dish, pressing it down upon the powder, when the blood immediately ceased to flow, and the head unclosed its eyes and said, "Open the book, O King!" Younan opened the book and found the leaves stuck together; so he put his finger to his mouth and took of his spittle and loosened them therewith and turned over the pages in this manner, one after another, for the leaves would not come apart but with difficulty, till he came to the seventh page, but found nothing written thereon and said to the head, "O physician, there is nothing here." Quoth the head, "Open more leaves." So the King turned over more leaves in the same manner. Now the book was as poisoned, and before long the poison began to work upon the King, and he fell back in convulsions and cried out, "I am poisoned!" Whereupon the head repeated the following verses:

Lo, these once were kings who governed with a harsh and haughty
     sway! In a little, their dominion was as if it ne'er had
     been.
Had they swayed the sceptre justly, they had been repaid the
     like, But they were unjust, and Fortune guerdoned them with
     dole and teen.
Now they're passed away, the moral of their case bespeaks them
     thus, "This is what your sins have earnt you: Fate is not to
     blame, I ween."

No sooner had it done speaking, than the King fell down dead and the head also ceased to live. And know, O Afrit (continued the fisherman), that if King Younan had spared the physician Douban, God would have spared him; but he refused and sought his death; so God killed him. And thou, O Afrit, if thou hadst spared me, I would spare thee; but nothing would serve thee but thou must put me to death; so now I will kill thee by shutting thee up in this vessel and throwing thee into the sea.' At this the Marid roared out and said, 'God on thee, O fisherman, do not do that! Spare me and bear me not malice for what I did, for men's wit is still better than that of Jinn. If I did evil, do thou good, in accordance with the adage, "O thou that dost good to him that does evil, the deed of the evil-doer suffices him." Do not thou deal with me as did Umameh with Aatikeh.' 'And what did Umameh with Aatikeh?' asked the fisherman. But the Afrit answered, 'This is no time to tell stories, and I in this duresse: let me out, and I will tell thee.' Quoth the fisherman, 'Leave this talk: I must and will throw thee into the sea, and thou shalt never win out again; for I besought thee and humbled myself to thee, but nothing would serve thee but thou must kill me, who had committed no offence against thee deserving this nor done thee any ill, but only kindness, in that I delivered thee from duresse. When thou didst thus by me, I knew thee for an incorrigible evil-doer; and know that, when I have thrown thee back into the sea, I will tell every one what happened between me and thee and warn him, to the end that whoever fishes thee up may throw thee in again; and thou shalt remain in the sea till the end of time and suffer all manner of torments.' Quoth the Afrit, 'Let me out, for this is the season of generosity; and I will make a compact with thee never to do thee hurt and to help thee to what shall enrich thee.' The fisherman accepted his proposal and unsealed the vessel, after he had taken the Afrit's pledge and made him swear by the Most High Name never to hurt him, but on the contrary to do him service. Then the smoke ascended as before and gathered itself together and became an Afrit, who gave the vessel a kick and sent it into the sea. When the fisherman saw this, he let fly in his clothes and gave himself up for lost, saying, 'This bodes no good.' But he took courage and said to the Afrit, 'O Afrit, quoth God the Most High, "Be ye faithful to your covenants, for they shall be enquired of:" and verily thou madest a pact with me and sworest to me that thou wouldst do me no hurt. So play me not false, lest God do the like with thee: for indeed He is a jealous God, who delayeth to punish, yet letteth not the evil-doer escape. And I say to thee, as said the physician Douban to King Younan, "Spare me, so God may spare thee!"' The Afrit laughed and started off inland, saying to the fisherman, 'Follow me.' So he followed him, trembling and not believing that he should escape, and the Afrit led him to the backward of the town: then crossing a hill, descended into a spacious plain, in the midst of which was a lake of water surrounded by four little hills. He led the fisherman into the midst of the lake, where he stood still and bade him throw his net and fish. The fisherman looked into the water and was astonished to see therein fish of four colours, white and red and blue and yellow. Then he took out his net and cast and drawing it in, found in it four fish, one of each colour. At this he rejoiced, and the Afrit said to him, 'Carry them to the Sultan and present them to him, and he will give thee what shall enrich thee. And accept my excuse, for I know not any other way to fulfil my pro mise to thee, having lain in yonder sea eighteen hundred years and never seen the surface of the earth till this time. But do not fish here more than once a day; and I commend thee to God's care!' So saying, he struck the earth with his foot, and it opened and swallowed him up, whilst the fisherman returned, wondering at all that had befallen him, to his house, where he took a bowl of water and laid therein the fish, which began to frisk about. Then he set the bowl on his head and going up to the palace, as the Afrit had bidden him, presented the fish to the King, who wondered at them greatly, for that he had never seen their like, in shape or kind, and said to his Vizier, 'Give these fish to the cookmaid that the King of the Greeks sent us, and tell her to fry them.' Now this was a damsel that he had received as a present from the King of the Greeks three days before and of whom he had not yet made trial in cookery. So the Vizier carried the fish to the cookmaid and said to her, 'These fish have been brought as a present to the Sultan and he says to thee, "O my tear, I have reserved thee against my stress!" So do thou show us to-day thy skill and the excellence of thy cookery.' Then he returned to the Sultan, who bade him give the fisherman four hundred diners. So he gave them to him and he took the money in his lap and set off home, running and stumbling and falling and rising again and thinking that he was dreaming. And he bought what was needful for his family and returned to his wife, glad and happy. Meanwhile the cookmaid took the fish and cleaned them and set the frying-pan on the fire. Then she poured in oil of sesame and waited till it was hot, when she put in the fish. As soon as one side was done, she fumed them, when lo, the wall of the kitchen opened and out came a handsome and well-shaped young lady, with smooth cheeks and liquid black eyes.[FN#20] She was clad in a tunic of satin, yarded with spangles of Egyptian gold, and on her head she had a silken kerchief, fringed with blue. She wore rings in her ears and bracelets on her wrists and rings on her fingers, with beazels of precious stones, and held in her hand a rod of Indian cane. She came up to the brazier and thrust the rod into the frying-pan saying 'O fish, are you constant to your covenant?' And when the cookmaid heard this she swooned away. Then the damsel repeated her question a second and a third time; and the fish lifted up their heads and cried out with one voice, 'Yes, yes:

Return, and we return: keep faith, and so will we: Or, if thou wilt, forsake, and we'll do like to thee!'

With this the damsel overturned the frying-pan and went out by the way she had come, and the wall closed up again as before. Presently the cookmaid came to herself and seeing the four fish burnt black as coal, said, 'My arms are broken in my first skirmish!' And fell down again in a swoon. Whilst she was in this state, in came the Vizier, to seek the fish, and found her insensible, not knowing Saturday from Thursday. So he stirred her with his foot and she came to herself and wept and told him what had passed. He marvelled and said, 'This is indeed a strange thing !' Then he sent for the fisherman and said to him, 'O fisherman, bring us four more fish of the same kind.' So the fisherman repaired to the lake and cast his net and hauling it in, found in it four fish like the first and carried them to the Vizier, who took them to the cookmaid and said to her, 'Come, fry them before me, that I may see what happens.' So she cleaned the fish and setting the frying-pan on the fire, threw them into it: and they had not lain long before the wall opened and the damsel appeared, after the same fashion, and thrust the rod into the pan, saying, 'O fish, O fish, are you constant to the old covenant?' And behold the fish all lifted up their heads and cried out as before, 'Yes, yes:

Return, and we return: keep faith, and so will we: Or, if thou wilt, forsake, and we'll do like to thee!'

Then she overturned the pan and went out as she had come and the wall closed up again. When the Vizier saw this, he said, 'This is a thing that must not be kept from the King. So he went to him and told him what he had witnessed; and the King said, 'I must see this with my own eyes.' Then he sent for the fisherman and commanded him to bring him other four fish like the first; and the fisherman went down at once to the lake and casting his net, caught other four fish and returned with them to the King, who ordered him other four hundred diners and set a guard upon him till he should see what happened. Then he turned to the Vizier and said to him, 'Come thou and fry the fish before me.' Quoth the Vizier, 'I hear and obey.' So he fetched the frying-pan and setting it on the fire, cleaned the fish and threw them in: but hardly had he turned them, when the wall opened, and out came a black slave, as he were a mountain or one of the survivors of the tribe of Aad,[FN#21] with a branch of a green tree in his hand: and he said, in a terrible voice, 'O fish, O fish, are you constant to the old covenant?' Whereupon they lifted up their heads and cried out' 'Yes, yes; we are constant:

Return, and we return: keep faith, and so will we: Or, if thou wilt, forsake, and we'll do like to thee!'

Then the slave went up to the pan and overturning it with the branch, went out as he had come, and the wall closed up as before. The King looked at the fish and found them black as coal; whereat he was bewildered and said to the Vizier, 'This is a thing about which it is impossible to keep silence; and indeed there must be some strange circumstance connected with these fish.' Then he sent for the fisherman and said to him, 'Hark ye, sirrah, whence hadst thou those fish?' 'From a lake between four hills,' answered he, 'on the thither side of the mountain behind the city.' 'How many days' journey hence?' asked the King; and the fisherman said, 'O my lord Sultan, half an hour's journey.' At this the King was astonished and ordering the troops to mount, set out at once, followed by his suite and preceded by the fisherman, who began to curse the Afrit. They rode on over the mountain and descended into a wide plain, that they had never before set eyes on, whereat they were all amazed. Then they fared on till they came to the lake lying between the four hills and saw the fish therein of four colours, red and white and yellow and blue. The King stood and wondered and said to his attendants, 'Has any one of you ever seen this lake before?' But they answered, 'Never did we set eyes on it in all our lives, O King of the age.' Then he questioned those stricken in years, and they made him the same answer. Quoth he, 'By Allah, I will not return to my capital nor sit down on my chair of estate till I know the secret of this pond and its fish!' Then he ordered his people to encamp at the foot of the hills and called his Vizier, who was a man of learning and experience, sagacious and skilful in business, and said to him, 'I mean to go forth alone to-night and enquire into the matter of the lake and these fish: wherefore do thou sit down at the door of my pavilion and tell the amirs and viziers and chamberlains and officers and all who ask after me that the Sultan is ailing and hath ordered thee to admit no one, and do thou acquaint none with my purpose.' The Vizier dared not oppose his design; so the King disguised himself and girt on his sword and going forth privily, took a path that led over one of the hills and fared on all that night and the next day, till the heat overcame him and he paused to rest. Then he set out again and fared on the rest of that day and all the next night, till on the morning of the second day, he caught sight of some black thing in the distance, whereat he rejoiced and said, 'Belike I shall find some one who can tell me the secret of the lake and the fish.' So he walked on, till he came to the black object, when he found it a palace built of black stone, plated with iron; and one leaf of its gate was open and the other shut. At this the King rejoiced and went up to the gate and knocked lightly, but heard no answer. So he knocked a second time and a third time, with the same result. Then he knocked loudly, but still no one answered; and he said to himself, 'It must be deserted.' So he took courage and entering the vestibule, cried out, 'Ho, people of the palace! I am a stranger and a wayfarer and hungry. Have ye any victual?' He repeated these words a second and a third time, but none answered. So he took heart and went on boldly into the interior of the palace, which he found hung and furnished with silken stuffs, embroidered with stars of gold, and curtains let down before the doors. In the midst was a spacious courtyard, with four estrades, one on each side, and a bench of stone. Midmost the courtyard was a great basin of water, from which sprang a fountain, and at the corners stood four lions of red gold, spouting forth water as it were pearls and jewels; and the place was full of birds, which were hindered from flying away by a network of gold stretched overhead. The King looked right and left, but there was no one to be seen; whereat he marvelled and was vexed to find none of whom he might enquire concerning the lake and the fish and the palace itself. So he returned to the vestibule and sitting down between the doors, fell to musing upon what he had seen, when lo, he heard a moaning that came from a sorrowful heart, and a voice chanted the following verses:

I hid what I endured from thee: it came to light, And sleep was
     changed to wake thenceforward to my sight.
O Fate, thou sparest not nor dost desist from me; Lo, for my
     heart is racked with dolour and affright!
Have pity, lady mine, upon the great laid low, Upon the rich made
     poor by love and its despite!
Once, jealous of the breeze that blew on thee, I was, Alas! on
     whom Fate falls, his eyes are veiled with night.
What boots the archer's skill, if, when the foe draws near, His
     bow-string snap and leave him helpless in the fight?
So when afflictions press upon the noble mind, Where shall a man
     from Fate and Destiny take flight?

When the King heard this, he rose and followed the sound and found that it came from behind a curtain let down before the doorway of a sitting-chamber. So he raised the curtain and saw a young man seated upon a couch raised a cubit from the ground. He was a handsome well-shaped youth, with flower-white forehead and rosy cheeks and a black mole, like a grain of ambergris, on the table of his cheek, as says the poet:

The slender one! From his brow and the night of his jetty hair,
     The world in alternate gloom and splendour of day doth fare.
Blame not the mole on his cheek. Is an anemone's cup Perfect,
     except in its midst an eyelet of black it wear?

He was clad in a robe of silk, laced with Egyptian gold, and had on his head a crown set with jewels, but his face bore traces of affliction. The King rejoiced when he saw him and saluted him; and the youth returned his salute in the most courteous wise, though without rising, and said to him, 'O my lord, excuse me if I do not rise to thee, as is thy due; indeed, I am unable to do so.' 'I hold thee excused, O youth!' answered the King. 'I am thy guest and come to thee on a pressing errand, beseeching thee to expound to me the mystery of the lake and the fish and of this palace, and why thou sittest here alone and weeping.' When the young man heard this, the tears ran down his cheeks and he wept sore, till his breast was drenched, and repeated the following verses:

Say unto those that grieve, at whom doth Fate her arrows cast,
     "How many an one hath she raised up but to lay low at last!
Lo, if ye sleep, the eye of God is never closed in sleep. For
     whom indeed is life serene, for whom is Fortune fast?"

Then he gave a heavy sigh and repeated the following:

Trust thine affair to the Ruler of all that be
     And put thought-taking and trouble away from thee:
Say not of aught that is past, "How came it so?"
     All things depend upon the Divine decree.

The King marvelled and said to him, 'What makes thee weep, O youth?' 'How should I not weep,' answered he 'being in such a plight?' Then he put out his hand and lifted the skirt of his robe, and behold, he was stone from the waist downward. When the King saw this his condition, he grieved sore and lamented and cried out, 'Alas! alas!' and said, 'Verily, O youth, thou addest trouble to my trouble. I came to enquire concerning the fish; and now I am concerned to know thy history also. But there is no power and no virtue save in God the Most High, the Supreme! Hasten therefore, O youth, and expound to me thy story.' Quoth the youth, 'Give me thine ears and understanding:' and the King replied, 'I am all attention.' Then said the youth, 'There hangs a strange story by these fish and by myself, a story which, were it graven with needles on the corners of the eye,[FN#22] would serve as a warning to those who can profit by example. 'How so ?' asked the King and the youth replied, 'Know, O my lord, that

Story of the Enchanted Youth.

My father was King of the city that stood in this place, and his name was Mohammed, Lord of the Black Islands, which are no other than the four hills of which thou wottest. He reigned seventy years, at the end of which time God took him to Himself, and I succeeded to his throne and took to wife the daughter of my father's brother, who loved me with an exceeding love, so that, whenever I was absent from her, she would neither eat nor drink till she saw me again. With her I lived for five years, till one day she went out to go to the bath, and I bade the cook hasten supper for us against her return. Then I entered the palace and lay down on the bed where we were wont to lie and ordered two slave-girls to sit, one at my head and the other at my feet, and fan me. Now I was disturbed at my wife's absence and could not sleep, but remained awake, although my eyes were closed. Presently I heard the damsel at my head say to the other one, "O Mesoudeh, how unhappy is our lord and how wretched is his youth, and oh, the pity of him with our accursed harlot of a mistress!" "Yes, indeed," replied Mesoudeh; "may God curse all unfaithful women and adulteresses! Indeed, it befits not that the like of our lord should waste his youth with this harlot, who lies abroad every night." Quoth the other, "Is our lord then a fool, that, when he wakes in the night and finds her not by his side, he makes no enquiry after her?" "Out on thee," rejoined Mesoudeh; "has our lord any knowledge of this or does she leave him any choice? Does she not drug him every night in the cup of drink she gives him before he sleeps, in which she puts henbane? So he sleeps like a dead man and knows nothing of what happens. Then she dresses and scents herself and goes forth and is absent till daybreak, when she returns and burns a perfume under his nose and he awakes." When I heard the girls' talk, the light in my eyes became darkness, and I thought the night would never come. Presently, my wife returned from the bath, and they served up supper and we ate and sat awhile drinking and talking as usual. Then she called for my sleeping-draught and gave me the cup: and I feigned to drink it, but made shift to pour it into my bosom and lay down at once and began to snore as if I slept. Then said she, "Sleep out thy night and never rise again! By Allah, I hate thee and I hate thy person; I am sick of thy company and I know not when God will take away thy life!" Then she rose and donned her richest clothes and perfumed herself and girt on my sword and opened the palace gate and went out. I rose and followed her, and she passed through the streets of the city, till she came to the gate, when she muttered words I understood not: and straight-way the locks fell off and the gate opened. She went forth and fared on among the rubbish heaps, I still following her without her knowledge, till she came to a reed fence, within which was a hut of brick. She entered the hut and I climbed up on the roof and looking down, saw my wife standing by a scurvy black slave, with blubber lips, one of which overlapped the other, like a coverlet, and swept up the sand from the gravel floor, lying upon a bed of sugar-cane refuse and wrapped in an old cloak and a few rags. She kissed the earth before him, and he raised his head to her and said, "Out on thee! why hast thou tarried till now? There have been some of my kinsmen the blacks here, drinking; and they have gone away, each with his wench; but I refused to drink on account of thine absence." "O my lord and my love and solace of my eyes," answered she, "dost thou not know that I am married to my cousin, and that I hate to look upon him and abhor myself in his company. Did I not fear for thy sake, I would not let the sun rise again till his city was a heap of ruins wherein the owl and the raven should hoot and wolves and foxes harbour; and I would transport its stones behind the mountain Caf."[FN#23] "Thou liest, O accursed one!" said the black, "and I swear by the valour of the blacks (else may our manhood be as that of the whites!) that if thou tarry again till this hour, I will no longer keep thee company nor join my body to thine! O accursed one, wilt thou play fast and loose with us at thy pleasure, O stinkard, O bitch, O vilest of whites?" When I heard and saw what passed between them, the world grew dark in my eyes and I knew not where I was; whilst my wife stood weeping and humbling herself to him and saying, "O my love and fruit of my heart, if thou be angry with me, who is left me, and if thou reject me, who shall shelter me, O my beloved and light of mine eyes?" And she ceased not to weep and implore him till he forgave her. Then she was glad and rose and putting off her clothes, said to the slave, "O my lord, hast thou aught here for thy handmaid to eat?" "Take the cover off yonder basin," answered he; "thou wilt find under it cooked rats' bones, and there is a little millet beer left in this pot. Eat and drink." So she ate and drank and washed her hands and mouth; then lay down, naked, upon the rushes, beside the slave, and covered herself with the rags. When I saw this, I became as one distraught and coming down from the roof, went in by the door. Then I took the sword she had brought and drew it, thinking to kill them both. I struck first at the slave's neck and thought I had made an end of him; but the blow only severed the flesh and the gullet, without dividing the jugulars. He gave a loud gurgling groan and roused my wife, whereupon I drew back, after I had restored the sword to its place, and resuming to the palace, lay down on my bed till morning, when my wife came and awoke me, and I saw that she had cut off her hair and put on mourning garments. "O my cousin," said she, "do not blame me for this I have done; for I have news that my mother is dead, that my father has fallen in battle and that both my brothers are dead also, one of a snake-bite and the other of a fall from a precipice, so that I have good reason to weep and lament." When I heard this, I did not reproach her, but said to her, "Do what thou wilt: I will not baulk thee." She ceased not to mourn and lament for a whole year, at the end of which time she said to me, "I wish to build me in thy palace a tomb with a cupola and set it apart for mourning and call it House of Lamentations." Quoth I, "Do what seemeth good to thee." So she built herself a house of mourning, roofed with a dome, and a monument in the midst like the tomb of a saint. Thither she transported the slave and lodged him in the tomb. He was exceeding weak and from the day I wounded him he had remained unable to do her any service or to speak or do aught but drink; but he was still alive, because his hour was not yet come. She used to visit him morning and evening in the mausoleum and carry him wine and broths to drink and weep and make moan over him; and thus she did for another year, whilst I ceased not to have patience with her and pay no heed to her doings, till one day I came upon her unawares and found her weeping and saying, "Why art thou absent from my sight, O delight of my heart? Speak to me, O my life! speak to me, O my love!" And she recited the following verses:

My patience fails me for desire: if thou forgettest me, My heart
     and all my soul can love none other after thee.
Carry me with thee, body and soul, wherever thou dost fare, And
     where thou lightest down to rest, there let me buried be.
Speak but my name above my tomb; the groaning of my bones,
     Turning towards thy voice's sound, shall answer drearily.

And she wept and recited the following:

My day of bliss is that whereon thou drawest near to me; And that
     whereon thou turn'st away, my day of death and fear.
What though I tremble all the night and be in dread of death, Yet
     thine embraces are to me than safety far more dear.

And again the following:

Though unto me were given all that can make life sweet, Though
     the Chosroes empire, yea, and the world were mine,
All were to me in value less than a midge's wing, If that mine
     eyes must never look on that face of thine!

When she had finished, I said to her, "O my cousin, let thy mourning suffice thee: for weeping profiteth nothing." She replied, "Thwart me not, or I will kill myself." So I held my peace and let her go her way: and she ceased not to mourn and weep for the space of another year. At the end of the third year, I came into the mausoleum one day, vexed at something that had crossed me and weary of this excessive affliction, and found her by the tomb under the dome, saying, "O my lord, I never hear thee speak to me, no, not one word. Why dost thou not answer me, O my lord?" And she recited the following verses:

O tomb, O tomb, have his beauties ceased, or does thy light
     indeed, The sheen of the radiant countenance, no more in
     thee abound?
O tomb, O tomb, thou art neither earth nor heaven unto me: How
     comes it then that sun and moon at once in thee are found?

When I heard this, it added wrath to my wrath, and I said, "Alas! how much more of this mourning?" and I repeated the following [parody of her] verses:

O tomb, O tomb, has his blackness ceased, or does thy light
     indeed, The sheen of the filthy countenance, no more in thee
     abound?
O tomb, thou art neither kitchen-stove nor sewer-pool for me! How
     comes it then that mire and coal at once in thee are found?

When she heard this, she sprang to her feet and said, "Out on thee, thou dog! it was thou that didst thus with me and woundedst the beloved of my heart and hast afflicted me and wasted his youth, so that these three years he hath lain, neither dead nor alive!" "O foulest of harlots and filthiest of whorish doxies of hired slaves," answered I, "it was indeed I who did this!" And I drew my sword and made at her to kill her; but she laughed and said, "Avaunt, thou dog! Thinkst thou that what is past can recur or the dead come back to life? Verily, God has given into my hand him who did this to me and against whom there was in my heart fire that might not be quenched and insatiable rage." Then she stood up and pronouncing some words I did not understand, said to me, "Let one half of thee by my enchantments become stone and the other half remain man." And immediately I became as thou seest me and have remained ever since neither sitting nor standing and neither dead nor alive. Then she enchanted the city with all its streets and gardens and turned it into the lake thou wottest of, and the inhabitants, who were of four religions, Muslims, Christians, Magians and Jews, she changed to fish of various colours, the Muslims white, the Christians blue, the Magians red and the Jews yellow; and the four islands she turned into four mountains encompassing the lake. Moreover, the condition to which she has reduced me does not suffice her: but every day she strips me and gives me a hundred lashes with a whip, so that the blood runs down me and my shoulders are torn. Then she clothes my upper half in a shirt of hair-cloth and over that she throws these rich robes.' And he wept and repeated the following verses:

Lord, I submit myself to Thee and eke to Fate, Content, if so
     Thou please, to suffer and to wait.
My enemies oppress and torture me full sore: But Paradise at
     last, belike, shall compensate.
Though Fate press hard on me, I trust in the Elect,[FN#24] The
     Accepted One of God, to be my advocate.

With this the King turned to him and said, 'O youth, after having rid me of one trouble, thou addest another to me: but tell me, where is thy wife and where is the wounded slave?' 'The slave lies in the tomb under the dome,' answered the youth, 'and she is in the chamber over against the gate. Every day at sunrise, she comes out and repairs first to me and strips off my clothes and gives me a hundred strokes with the whip; and I weep and cry out, but cannot stir to keep her off. When she has done torturing me, she goes down to the slave with the wine and broth on which she feeds him; and to-morrow at sunrise she will come.' 'O youth,' rejoined the King, 'by Allah, I will assuredly do thee a service by which I shall be remembered and which men shall chronicle to the end of time!' Then he sat down by the youth and talked with him till nightfall, when they went to sleep. At peep of day, the King rose and put off his clothes and drawing his sword, repaired to the mausoleum, where, after noting the paintings of the place and the candles and Lamps and perfumes burning there, he sought for the slave till he came upon him and slew him with one blow of the sword; after which he took the body on his back and threw it into a well that was in the palace. Then he returned to the dome and wrapping himself in the black's clothes, lay down in his place, with his drawn sword by his side. After awhile, the accursed enchantress came out and, going first to her husband, stripped him and beat him with the whip, whilst he cried out, 'Alas! the state I am in suffices me. Have mercy on me, O my cousin!' But she replied, 'Didst thou show me any mercy or spare my beloved?' And beat him till she was tired and the blood ran from his sides. Then she put the hair shirt on him and the royal robes over it, and went down to the dome with a goblet of wine and a bowl of broth in her hands. When she came to the tomb, she fell a-weeping and wailing and said, 'O my lord, speak to me!' And repeated the following verse:

How long ere this rigour pass sway and thou relent? Is it not yet enough of the tears that I have spent?'

And she wept and said again, 'O my lord, speak to me!' The King lowered his voice and knotting his tongue, spoke after the fashion of the blacks and said, 'Alack! alack! there is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High the Supreme!' When she heard this, she screamed out for joy and swooned away; and when she revived, she said, 'O my lord, can it be true and didst thou indeed speak to me?' The King made his voice small and said, 'O accursed woman, thou deservest not that I should speak to thee!' 'Why so?' asked she; and he replied, 'Because all day thou tormentest thy husband and his cries disturb me, and all night long he calls upon God for help and invokes curses on thee and me and keeps me awake from nightfall to daybreak and disquiets me; and but for this, I had been well long ago. This is what has hindered me from answering thee.' Quoth she, 'With thy leave, I will release him from his present condition.' 'Do so,' said the King, 'and rid us of his noise.' 'I hear and obey,' answered she, and going out into the palace, took a cup full of water and spoke over it certain words, whereupon the water began to boil and bubble as the cauldron bubbles over the fire. Then she went up to the young King and sprinkled him with it, saying, 'By the virtue of the words I have spoken, if thou art thus by my spells, quit this shape for thy former one.' And immediately he shook and rose to his feet, rejoicing in his deliverance, and said, 'I testify that there is no god but God and that Mohammed is His apostle, may God bless and preserve him!' Then she said to him, 'Depart hence and do not return, or I will kill thee.' And she screamed out in his face. So he went out from before her, and she returned to the dome and going down into the tomb, said, 'O my lord, come forth to me, that I may see thy goodly form!' The King replied in a weak voice, 'What hast thou done? Thou hast rid me of the branch, but not of the root.' 'O my beloved, O my little black,' said she, 'what is the root?' 'Out on thee, O accursed one!' answered he. 'Every night, at the middle hour, the people of the city, whom thou by thine enchantments didst change into fish, lift up their heads from the water and cry to God for help and curse thee and me; and this is what hinders my recovery: so do thou go quickly and set them free, and after return and take me by the hand and raise me up; for indeed health returns to me.' When she heard this speech of the King, whom she supposed to be the slave, she rejoiced and said, 'O my lord, on my head and eyes be it, in the name of God!' Then she went out, full of joy, and ran to the lake and taking a little of the water in her hand, spoke over it words that might not be understood, whereupon there was a great stir among the fish; and they raised their heads to the surface and stood upright and became men as before. Thus was the spell dissolved from the people of the city and the lake became again a populous city, with its streets and bazaars, in which the merchants bought and sold, and every one returned to his employment; whilst the four hills were restored to their original form of islands. Then the enchantress returned to the King and said to him, 'O my lord, give me thy noble hand and arise.' 'Come nearer to me,' answered he, in a faint voice. So she came close to him, and he took his sword and smote her in the breast, that the steel came forth, gleaming, from her back. He smote her again and cut her in twain, and she fell to the ground in two halves. Then he went out and found the young King standing awaiting him and gave him joy of his deliverance, whereupon the youth rejoiced and thanked him and kissed his hand. Quoth the Sultan, 'Wilt thou abide in this thy city or come with me to mine?' 'O King of the age,' rejoined he, 'dost thou know how far it is from here to thy capital?' And the Sultan replied, 'Two and a half days' journey.' 'O King,' said the other, 'if thou sleepest, awake! Between thee and thy capital is a full year's journey to a diligent traveller; and thou hadst not come hither in two days and a half, save that the city was enchanted. But, O King, I will never leave thee, no, not for the twinkling of an eye!' The Sultan rejoiced at his words and said, 'Praised be God, who hath bestowed thee upon me! Thou shalt be my son, for in all my life I have never been blessed with a son.' And they embraced each other and rejoiced with exceeding great joy. Then they returned to the palace, and the young King bade his officers make ready for a journey and prepare his baggage and all that he required. The preparations occupied ten days, at the end of which time the young King set out in company of the Sultan, whose heart burned within him at the thought of his long absence from his capital, attended by fifty white slaves and provided with magnificent presents. They journeyed day and night for a whole year, and God ordained them safety, till they drew near the Sultan's capital and sent messengers in advance to acquaint the Vizier with his safe arrival. Then came out the Vizier and the troops, who had given up all hope of the Sultan's return, and kissed the ground before him and gave him joy of his safety. So he entered his palace and sat down on his throne and the Vizier came in to him, to whom he related all that had befallen him with the young King: and the Vizier gave the latter joy of his deliverance. Then all things being set in order, the Sultan gave largesse to many of his people and sending for the fisherman who had brought him the enchanted fish and had thus been the first cause of the delivery of the people of the Black Islands, bestowed on him a dress of honour and enquired of his condition and whether he had any children, to which he replied that he had three children, two daughters and one son. So the King sent for them and taking one daughter to wife, married the other to the young King and made the son his treasurer. Moreover, he invested his Vizier with the sovereignty of the Black Islands and despatched him thither with the fifty officers, who had accompanied the young King thence, giving him robes of honour for all the amirs. So the Vizier kissed hands and set out for the Black Islands. The fisherman became the richest man of his time, and he and his daughters and the two Kings their husbands abode in peace till death came to them.

THE PORTER AND THE THREE LADIES OF BAGHDAD.

There was once a porter of Baghdad who was a bachelor. One day, as he stood in the market, leant upon his basket, there came to him a lady, swathed in a wrapper of gold embroidered muslin, fringed with gold lace, and wearing embroidered boots and floating tresses plaited with silk and gold. She stopped before him and raising her kerchief, showed a pair of languishing black eyes of perfect beauty, bordered with long drooping lashes. Then she turned to the porter and said, in a clear sweet voice, 'Take thy basket and follow me.' No sooner had she spoken than he took up his basket in haste, saying, 'O day of good luck! O day of God's grace!' and followed her till she stopped and knocked at the door of a house, when there came out a Nazarene, to whom she gave a dinar, and he gave her in return an olive-green bottle, full of wine, which she put into the basket, saying to the porter, 'Hoist up and follow me.' Said he, 'By Allah, this is indeed a happy and fortunate day!' And shouldering the basket, followed her till she came to a fruiterer's, where she bought Syrian apples and Turkish quinces and Arabian peaches and autumn cucumbers and Sultani oranges and citrons, beside jessamine of Aleppo and Damascus water-lilies and myrtle and basil and henna-blossoms and blood-red anemones and violets and sweet-briar and narcissus and camomile and pomegranate flowers, all of which she put into the porter's basket, saying, 'Hoist up!' So he shouldered the basket and followed her, till she stopped at a butcher's shop and said to him, 'Cut me off ten pounds of meat.' He gave her the meat, wrapped in a banana leaf, and she put it in the basket, saying, 'Hoist up, O porter!' and went on to a grocer's, of whom she took pistachio kernels and shelled almonds and hazel-nuts and walnuts and sugar cane and parched peas and Mecca raisins and all else that pertains to dessert. Thence to a pastry-cook's, where she bought a covered dish and put therein open-work tarts and honey-fritters and tri-coloured jelly and march-pane, flavoured with lemon and melon, and Zeyneb's combs and ladies' fingers and Cadi's mouthfuls and widow's bread and meat-and-drink[FN#25] and some of every kind of sweetmeat in the shop and laid the dish in the basket of the porter, who said to her, 'Thou shouldst have told me, that I might have brought a mule or a camel to carry all these good things.' She smiled and gave him a tap on the nape, saying, 'Make haste and leave chattering and God willing, thou shalt have a good wage.' She stopped next at the shop of a druggist, where she bought rose-water and water-lily water and orange-flower water and willow-flower water and six other kinds of sweet waters and a casting bottle of rose-water mingled with musk, besides two loaves of sugar and frankincense and aloes-wood and ambergris and musk and saffron and candles of Alexandrian wax, all of which she put into the basket. Then she went on to a greengrocer's, of whom she bought pickled safflower and olives, in brine and fresh, and tarragon and juncates and Syrian cheese and put them all into the basket and said to the porter, 'Take up thy basket and follow me.' So he shouldered his load and followed her till she came to a tall handsome house, with a spacious court before it and a two-leaved door of ebony, inlaid with plates of glittering gold. The lady went up to the door and throwing back her kerchief, knocked softly, whilst the porter stood behind her, musing upon her beauty and grace. After awhile the door opened and both the leaves swung back; whereupon he looked to see who opened it, and behold, it was a damsel of dazzling beauty and symmetry, high-bosomed, with flower-white forehead and rosy cheeks, eyes like those of gazelles or wild oxen and eyebrows like the crescent of the new moon of Ramazan[FN#26], cheeks like blood-red anemones, mouth like Solomon's seal, lips red as coral and teeth like clustered pearls or camomile-petals, neck like an antelope's and bosom like a fountain, breasts like double pomegranates, belly like brocade and navel holding an ounce of benzoin ointment, even as says of her the poet:

Look at her, with her slender shape and radiant beauty! this Is
     she who is at once the sun and moon of palaces!
Thine eyes shall ne'er see grace combine so featly black and
     white As in her visage and the locks that o'er her forehead
     kiss.
She in whose cheeks the red flag waves, her beauty testifies Unto
     her name, if that to paint her sweet seductions miss.
With swimming gait she walks: I laugh for wonder at her hips, But
     weep to see her waist, that all too slight to bear them is.

When the porter saw her, his mind and heart were taken by storm, so that he well-nigh let fall the basket and exclaimed, 'Never in all my life saw I a more blessed day than this!' Then said the portress to the cateress, 'O my Sister, why tarriest thou? Come in from the gate and ease this poor man of his burden.' So the cateress entered, followed by the portress and the porter, and went on before them to a spacious saloon, elegantly built and handsomely decorated with all manner of colours and carvings and geometrical figures, with balconies and galleries and cupboards and benches and closets with curtains drawn before them. In the midst was a great basin of water, from which rose a fountain, and at the upper end stood a couch of juniper wood, inlaid with precious stones and surmounted by a canopy of red satin, looped up with pearls as big as hazel-nuts or bigger. Thereon sat a lady of radiant countenance and gentle and demure aspect, moonlike in face, with eyes of Babylonian witchcraft and arched eyebrows, sugared lips like cornelian and a shape like the letter I. The radiance of her countenance would have shamed the rising sun, and she resembled one of the chief stars of heaven or a pavilion of gold or a high-born Arabian bride on the night of her unveiling, even as says of her the poet:

Her teeth, when she smiles, like pearls in a cluster show, Or
     shredded camomile-petals or flakes of snow:
Her ringlets seem, as it were, the fallen night, And her beauty
     shames the dawn and its ruddy glow.

Then she rose and coming with a stately gait to meet her sisters in the middle of the saloon, said to them, 'Why stand ye still? Relieve this poor porter of his burden.' So the cateress came and stood before and the portress behind him and with the help of the third damsel, lifted the basket from his head and emptying it, laid everything in its place. Then they gave him two dinars, saying, 'Go, O porter!' But he stood, looking at the ladies and admiring, their beauty and pleasant manners, never had he seen goodlier, and wondering greatly at the profusion of wine and meat and fruits and flowers and so forth that they had provided and to see no man with them, and made no movement to go. So the eldest lady said to him, 'What ails thee that thou dost not go away? Belike, thou grudgest at thy pay?' And she turned to the cateress and said to her, 'Give him another dinar.' 'No, by Allah, O lady!' answered the porter. 'I do not indeed grudge at my pay, for my right hire is scarce two dirhems; but of a truth my heart and soul are taken up with you and how it is that ye are alone and have no man with you and no one to divert you, although ye know that women's sport is little worth without men, nor is an entertainment complete without four at the table, and ye have no fourth. What says the poet?

Dost thou not see that for pleasure four several things combine,
     Instruments four, harp, hautboy and gittern and psaltery?
And unto these, four perfumes answer and correspond, Violets,
     roses and myrtle and blood-red anemone.
Nor is our pleasure perfect, unless four things have we, Money
     and wine and gardens and mistress fair and free.

And ye are three and need a fourth, who should be a man, witty, sensible and discreet, one who can keep counsel.' When they heard what he said, it amused them and they laughed at him and replied, 'What have we to do with that, we who are girls and fear to entrust our secrets to those who will not keep them? For we have read, in such and such a history, what says Ibn eth Thumam:

Tell not thy secrets: keep them with all thy might. A secret
     revealed is a secret lost outright.
If thine own bosom cannot thy secrets hold, Why expect more
     reserve from another wight?

Or, as well says Abou Nuwas on the same subject:

The fool, that to men doth his secrets avow, Deserves to be marked with a brand on the brow.'

'By your lives,' rejoined the porter, 'I am a man of sense and discretion, well read in books and chronicles. I make known what is fair and conceal what is foul, and as says the poet:

None keeps a secret but the man who's trusty and discreet. A
     secret's ever safely placed with honest folk and leal;
And secrets trusted unto me are in a locked-up house Whose keys
     are lost and on whose door is set the Cadi's seal.

When the girls heard this, the eldest one said to him, 'Thou knowest that we have laid out much money in preparing this entertainment: hast thou aught to offer us in return? For we will not let thee sit with us and be our boon companion and gaze on our bright fair faces, except thou pay down thy share of the cost. Dost thou not know the saying:

     Love without money
     Is not worth a penny?'

'If thou have aught, my friend,' added the portress, 'then art thou something: but if thou have nothing, be off without anything.' Here the cateress interposed, saying, 'O sisters, let him be: for by Allah, he has not failed us to-day: another had not been so patient with us. I will pay his share for him.' Whereupon the porter, overjoyed, kissed the earth and thanked her, saying, 'By Allah, it was thou didst handsel me this day! Here are the two dinars I had of you: take them and admit me to your company, not as a guest, but as a servant.' 'Sit down,' answered they; 'thou art welcome.' But the eldest lady said, 'By Allah, we will not admit thee to our society but on one condition; and it is that thou enquire not of what does not concern thee; and if thou meddle, thou shalt be beaten.' Said the porter, 'I agree to this, O my lady, on my head and eyes! Henceforth I am dumb.' Then arose the cateress and girding her middle, laid the table by the fountain and set out the cups and flagons, with flowers and sweet herbs and all the requisites for drinking. Moreover, she strained the wine and set it on; and they sat down, she and her sisters, with the porter, who fancied himself in a dream. The cateress took the flagon of wine and filled a cup and drank it off. Then she filled again and gave it to one of her sisters, who drank and filled another cup and gave it to her other sister: then she filled a fourth time and gave it to the porter, saying:

Drink and fare well and health attend thee still. This drink
     indeed's a cure for every ill.

He took the cup in his hand and bowed and returned thanks, reciting the following verses:

Quaff not the cup except with one who is of trusty stuff, One who
     is true of thought and deed and eke of good descent.
Wine's like the wind, that, if it breathe on perfume, smells as
     sweet, But, if o'er carrion it pass, imbibes its evil scent.

And again:

Drink not of wine except at the hands of a maiden fair, Who, like
     unto thee and it, is joyous and debonair.

Then he kissed their hands and drank and was merry with wine and swayed from side to side and recited the following verses:

Hither, by Allah, I conjure thee! Goblets that full of the grape
     juice be!
And brim up, I prithee, a cup for me, For this is the water of
     life, perdie!

Then the cateress filled the cup and gave it to the portress, who took it from her hand and thanked her and drank. Then she filled again and gave it to the eldest, who filled another cup and handed it to the porter. He gave thanks and drank and recited the following verses:

It is forbidden us to drink of any blood Except it be of that
     which gushes from the vine.
So pour it out to me, an offering to thine eyes, To ransom from
     thy hands my soul and all that's mine.

Then he turned to the eldest lady, who was the mistress of the house, and said to her, 'O my lady, I am thy slave and thy servant and thy bondman!' And repeated the following verses:

There is a slave of all thy caves now standing at thy gate Who
     ceases not thy bounties all to sing and celebrate.
May he come in, O lady fair, to gaze upon thy charms? Desire and
     I from thee indeed may never separate.

And she said to him, 'Drink, and health and prosperity attend thee!' So he took the cup and kissed her hand and sang the following verses:

I brought my love old wine and pure, the likeness of her cheeks,
     Whose glowing brightness called to mind a brazier's heart of
     red.
She touched the wine-cup with her lips, and laughing roguishly,
     "How canst thou proffer me to drink of my own cheeks?" she
     said.
"Drink!" answered I, "it is my tears; its hue is of my blood; And
     it was heated at a fire that by my sighs was fed."

And she answered him with the following verse:

If, O my friend, thou hast indeed wept tears of blood for me, I prithee, give them me to drink, upon thine eyes and head!

Then she took the cup and drank it off to her sisters' health; and they continued to drink and make merry, dancing and laughing and singing and reciting verses and ballads. The porter fell to toying and kissing and biting and handling and groping and dallying and taking liberties with them: whilst one put a morsel into his mouth and another thumped him, and this one gave him a cuff and that pelted him with flowers; and he led the most delightful life with them, as if he sat in paradise among the houris. They ceased not to drink and carouse thus, till the wine sported in their heads and got the better of their senses, when the portress, arose, and putting off her clothes, let down her hair over her naked body, for a veil. Then she threw herself into the basin and sported in the water and swam about and dived like a duck and took water in her mouth and spurted it at the porter and washed her limbs and the inside of her thighs. Then she came up out of the water and throwing herself into the porter's lap, pointed to her commodity and said to him, 'O my lord O my friend, what is the name of this?' 'Thy kaze,' answered he; but she said, 'Fie! art thou not ashamed!' And cuffed him on the nape of the neck. Quoth he, 'Thy catso.' And she dealt him a second cuff, saying, 'Fie! what an ugly word! Art thou not ashamed?' 'Thy commodity,' said he; and she, 'Fie! is there no shame in thee?' And thumped him and beat him. Then said he, 'Thy coney.' Whereupon the eldest fell on him and beat him, saying, 'Thou shalt not say that.' And whatever he said, they beat him more and more, till his neck ached again; and they made a laughing-stock of him amongst them, till he said at last, 'Well, what is its name amongst you women?' 'The sweet basil of the dykes,' answered they. 'Praised be God for safety!' cried he. 'Good, O sweet basil of the dikes!' Then they passed round the cup and presently the cateress rose and throwing herself into the porter's lap, pointed to her kaze and said to him, 'O light of mine eyes, what is the name of this?' 'Thy commodity,' answered he. 'Art thou not ashamed?' said she, and dealt him a buffet that made the place ring again, repeating, 'Fie! Fie! art thou not ashamed?' Quoth he, 'The sweet basil of the dykes.' 'No! No!' answered she, and beat him and cuffed him on the nape. Then said he, 'Thy kaze, thy tout, thy catso, thy coney.' But they replied, 'No! No!' And he said again, 'The sweet basil of the dykes.' Whereupon they laughed till they fell backward and cuffed him on the neck, saying, 'No; that is not its name.' At last he said, 'O my sisters, what is its name?' And they answered, 'What sayest thou to the peeled barleycorn?' Then the cateress put on her clothes and they sat down again to carouse, whilst the porter lamented over his neck and shoulders. The cup passed round among them awhile, and presently the eldest and handsomest of the ladies rose and put off her clothes; whereupon the porter took his neck in his hand and said, 'My neck and shoulders are in the way of God!' Then she threw herself into the basin and plunged and sported and washed; whilst the porter looked at her, naked, as she were a piece of the moon or the full moon when she waxes or the dawn at its brightest, and noted her shape and breasts and her heavy quivering buttocks, for she was naked as God created her. And he said, 'Alack!' Alack!' and repeated the following verses:

If to the newly-budded branch thy figure I compare, I lay upon my
     heart a load of wrong too great to bear;
For that the branch most lovely is, when clad upon with green,
     But thou, when free of every veil, art then by far most
     fair.

When she heard this, she came up out of the water and sitting down on his knees, pointed to her kaze and said, 'O my little lord, what is the name of this?' 'The sweet basil of the dykes,' answered he; but she said, 'No! No!' Quoth he, 'The peeled barleycorn.' And she said, 'Pshaw!' Then said he, 'Thy kaze.' Fie! Fie!' cried she. 'Art thou not ashamed?' And cuffed him on the nape of the neck. And whatever name he said, they beat him, saying, 'No! No!' till at last he said, 'O my sisters, what is its name?' 'The khan[FN#27] of Abou Mensour,' answered they. And he said, 'Praised be God for safety! Bravo! Bravo! O khan of Abou Mensour!' Then the damsel rose and put on her clothes and they returned to their carousing and the cup passed round awhile. Presently, the porter rose and putting off his clothes, plunged into the pool and swam about and washed under his chin and armpits, even as they had done. Then he came out and threw himself into the eldest lady's lap and putting his arms into the portress's lap and his feet into that of the cateress pointed to his codpiece and said, 'O my mistresses, what is the name of this?' They laughed till they fell backward and one of them answered, 'Thy yard.' 'Art thou not ashamed?' said he. 'A forfeit!' and took of each a kiss. Quoth another, 'Thy pintle.' But he replied, 'No,' and gave each of them a bite in play. Then said they, 'Thy pizzle.' 'No,' answered he, and gave each of them a hug; and they kept saying, 'Thy yard, thy pintle, thy pizzle, thy codpiece!' whilst he kissed and hugged and fondled them to his heart's content, and they laughed till they were well nigh dead. At last they said, 'O our brother, and what is its name?' 'Don't you know?' asked he; and they said, 'No.' Quoth he, 'This is the mule Break-all, that browses on the basil of the dykes and gobbles up the peeled barleycorn and lies by night in the khan of Abou Mensour.' And they laughed till they fell backward. Then they fell again to drinking and continued after this fashion till the night came upon them, when they said to the porter, 'In the name of God, put on thy sandals and be off and let us see the breadth of thy shoulders!' Quoth he, 'By Allah, the leaving life were easier to me than the leaving you! Let us join the night to the day, and to-morrow we will each go our own way.' 'My life on you!' said the cateress, 'let him pass the night with us, that we may laugh at him, for he is a pleasant rogue; and we may never again chance upon the like of him.' So the mistress of the house said to the porter, 'Thou shalt pass the night with us on condition that thou submit to our authority and that, whatever thou seest, thou ask no questions about it nor enquire the reason of it.' 'It is well,' answered he; and they said, 'Go and read what is written over the door.' So he went to the door and found the following words written thereon in letters of gold, 'He who speaks of what concerns him not, shall hear what will not please him.' And he said, 'Be ye witness against me that I will not speak of what concerns me not.' Then rose the cateress and prepared food, and they ate: after which they lighted the lamps and candles and strewed on the latter ambergris and aloes-wood; then changed the service and set on fresh fruits and flowers and wine and so forth and sat down again to drink. They ceased not to eat and drink and make merry, hobnobbing and laughing and talking and frolicking, till there came a knocking at the door: whereupon one of them rose and went to the door, without disturbing the party, and presently returned, saying, 'Verily, our pleasure is to be complete to-night.' 'How so?' asked the others, and she replied, 'There are three foreign Calenders[FN#28] at the door, with shaven heads and chins and eyebrows and every one blind of the right eye, which is a most extraordinary coincidence. Apparently they are fresh from a journey and indeed the traces of travel are evident on them; and the reason of their knocking at the door is this. They are strangers to Baghdad and this is their first coming to our city: the night surprised them and they could not find a lodging in the city and know no one with whom to take shelter: so they said to each other, "Perhaps the owner of this house will give us the key of a stable or outhouse and let us sleep there." And, O my sisters, each of them is a laughing-stock after his own fashion; and if we let them in, they will make us sport this night, and on the morrow each shall go his own way.' And she ceased not to persuade them, till they said, 'Let them come in, on condition that they ask no questions of what does not concern them, on pain of hearing what will not please them.' So she rejoiced and going to the door, returned with the three Calenders, who saluted and bowed low and held back; but the ladies rose to them and welcomed them and gave them joy of their safety and made them sit down. The Calenders looked about them and seeing a pleasant place and a table elegantly spread with flowers and fruits and green herbs and dessert and wine, with candles burning and perfumes smoking, and the three maidens, with their faces unveiled, said with one voice ''Fore Allah, it is good!' Then they turned to the porter and saw that he was tipsy and jaded with drinking and dalliance. So they took him for one of themselves and said, 'He is a Calender like ourselves, either an Arab or a foreigner.' When the porter heard this, he rose and fixing his eyes on them, said, 'Sit still and do not meddle. Have you not read what is written on the door? It befits not folk, like yourselves, who come to us as mendicants, to loose your tongues on us.' 'We ask pardon of God, O fakir!' answered they. 'Our heads are before thee.' The ladies laughed and making peace between them, set food before the Calenders. When they had eaten, they all sat down again to carouse, the portress serving the new comers, and the cup passed round awhile, till the porter said to the Calenders, 'O brothers, have ye no story or rare trait to divert us withal?' The Calenders, being warm with wine, called for musical instruments; so the portress brought them a tambourine and a lute and a Persian harp; and each Calender took one and tuned it and played and sang; and the girls joined in lustily and made a great noise. Whilst they were thus engaged, some one knocked at the gate and the portress rose and went to see who it was. Now the cause of this knocking was that, that very night, the Khalif Haroun er Reshid had gone down into the City, as was his wont, every now and then, to walk about for his diversion and hear what news was stirring, attended by his Vizier Jaafer and Mesrour his headsman, all three, as usual, disguised as merchants. Their way brought them to the house of the three ladies, where they heard the noise of musical instruments and of singing and merriment, and the Khalif said to Jaafer, 'I have a mind to enter this house and listen to this music and see the singers.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered Jaafer, 'these people are certainly drunk, and I fear lest some mischief betide us at their hands.' 'It matters not,' rejoined the Khalif; 'I must and will go in and I desire that thou contrive some pretext to that end.' 'I hear and obey,' replied the Vizier and going up to the gate, knocked, whereupon the portress came down and opened. Jaafer came forward and kissing the earth before her, said, 'O lady, we are merchants from Tiberias: we reached Baghdad ten days ago and sold our merchandise and took up our lodging at the khan of the merchants. Now we were bidden to-night to an entertainment at the house of a certain merchant, who set food before us and we ate and caroused with him awhile, till he gave us leave to depart and we went out, intending for our lodging; but being strangers in Baghdad, we lost ourselves and could not find our way back to our khan: so we hope, of your courtesy, that you will admit us to pass the night with you, and God will requite you.' The portress looked at them and saw that they were dressed like merchants and appeared respectable; so she returned to her sisters and repeated to them Jaafer's story, and they took compassion on the supposed strangers and bade her admit them. So she resumed and opened the gate to them, and they said, 'Have we thy leave to enter?' 'Enter,' answered she; whereupon the Khalif and Jaafer and Mesrour entered; and when the girls saw them, they rose and welcomed them and made them sit down and served them, saying, 'Ye are welcome as our guests, but on one condition.' 'What is that?' asked they; and the mistress of the house answered, 'It is that you be eyes without tongues and that, whatever you see, you enquire not thereof nor speak of that which concerns you not, lest you hear what will not please you.' 'Good,' answered they: 'we are no meddlers.' Then they sat down to carouse; whilst the Khalif looked at the three Calenders and marvelled for that they were all blind of the right eye, and gazed upon the ladies and was amazed at their beauty and goodliness. They fell to drinking and talking and said to the Khalif, 'Drink.' But he answered, 'Excuse me, for I am vowed to the pilgrimage.'[FN#29] Whereupon the portress rose and spreading a gold-embroidered cloth before him, set thereon a china bowl, into which she poured willow-flower water, with a spoonful of snow and some pounded sugar-candy. The Khalif thanked her and said to himself, 'By Allah, I will reward her to-morrow for her kind office!' Then they addressed themselves to carousel, till the wine began to work upon them, when the eldest lady rose and making an obeisance to her guests, took the cateress by the hand and said, 'Come, sisters, let us do our duty.' And they answered, 'It is well.' So the portress rose and cleared the middle of the saloon, after she had removed the table service and thrown away the remains of the banquet. Then she renewed the perfumes in the censers and made the Calenders sit down on a sofa by the dais and the Khalif and his companions on a sofa at the other end; after which she called to the porter, saying, 'How dull and slothful thou art! Come and help us: thou art no stranger, but one of the household!' So he rose and girt his middle and said, 'What would you have me do?' And she answered, 'Stay where thou art.' Then the cateress rose and setting a chair in the middle of the room, went to a closet, which she opened, saying to the porter, 'Come and help me.' So he went to her and she brought out two black bitches, with chains round their necks, and gave them to him, saying, 'Take them.' So he took them and carried them to the middle of the saloon; whereupon the mistress of the house tucked up her sleeves and taking a whip, said to the porter, 'Bring me one of the bitches.' So he brought it to her by the chain; and the bitch wept and shook its head at the damsel, who brought the whip down on it, whilst the porter held it by the chain. The bitch howled and whined, but the lady ceased not to beat it till her arm was tired; when she threw away the whip and pressing the bitch to her bosom, kissed it on the head and wiped away its tears. Then she said to the porter, 'Take it back and bring the other.' He did as she bade him, and she did with the second bitch as she had done with the first. The Khalif's mind was troubled at her doings and his breast contracted and he could not restrain his impatience to know the meaning of all this. So he winked to Jaafer to ask, but the latter turned and signed to him as who should say, 'Be silent: this is no time for impertinent curiosity.' Then said the portress to the mistress of the house, 'O my lady, rise and go up to thy place, that I in turn may do my part.' 'It is well,' answered she and went up and sat down on the couch of juniper-wood, at the upper end of the dais; whilst the portress sat down on a chair and said to the cateress, 'Do what thou hast to do.' So the latter rose and going to a closet, brought out a bag of yellow satin, with cords of green silk and tassels of gold, and came and sat down before the portress. Then she opened the bag and took out a lute, which she tuned, and sang the following verses, accompanying herself on the lute:

Thou art my wish, thou art my end; And in thy presence, O my
     friend,
There is for me abiding joy: Thine absence sets my heart a-flame
For thee distraught, with thee possest, Thou reignest ever in my
     breast,
Nor in the love I bear to thee Is there for me reproach or shame.
Life's veil for me was torn apart, When Love gat hold upon my
     heart
For Love still rends the veils in twain And brings dishonour on
     fair fame.
The cloak of sickness I did on; And straight my fault appeared
     and shone.
Since that my heart made choice of thee And love and longing on
     me came,
My eyes are ever wet with tears, And all my secret thought
     appears,
When with my tears' tumultuous flow Exhales the secret of thy
     name.
Heal thou my pains, for thou to me Art both disease and remedy.
Yet him, whose cure is in thy hand, Affliction shall for ever
     claim,
Thy glances set my heart on fire, Slay me with swords of my
     desire:
How many, truly, of the best Have fallen beneath Love's sword of
     flame?
Yet may I not from passion cease Nor in forgetting seek release;
For love's my comfort, pride and law, Public and private, aye the
     same.
Blest eyes that have of thee their fill And look upon thee at
     their will!
Ay, of my own unforced intent, The slave of passion I became.

When the portress heard this foursome song, she cried out, 'Alas! Alas! Alas!' and tore her clothes and fell down in a swoon; and the Khalif saw on her body the marks of beating with rods and whips, and wondered greatly. Then the cateress rose and sprinkled water upon her and brought her a fresh dress and put it on her. When the company saw this, their minds were troubled, for they understood not the reason of these things. And the Khalif said to Jaafer, 'Didst thou not see the marks of beating with rods upon the girl's body! I cannot keep silence nor be at rest, except I come at the truth of all this and know the story of this damsel and the two bitches.' 'O my lord,' answered Jaafer, 'they made it a condition with us that we should not speak of what concerns us not, under pain of hearing what should not please us.' Then said the portress 'By Allah! O my sister, come and complete thy service to me.' 'With all my heart!' answered the cateress and took the lute and leant it against her breasts. Then she swept the strings with her finger-tips and sang the following verses:

If we complain of absence, what alas! shall we say? Or if longing
     assail us, where shall we take our way?
If, to interpret for us, we trust to a messenger, How can a
     message rightly a lover's plaint convey?
Or if we put on patience, short is a lover's life, After his
     heart's beloved is torn from him away.
Nothing, alas! is left me but sorrow and despair And tears that
     adown my cheeks without cessation stray.
Thou that art ever absent from my desireful sight, Thou that art
     yet a dweller within my heart alway,
Hast thou kept troth, I wonder, with one who loves thee dear,
     Whose faith, whilst time endureth, never shall know decay?
Or hast thou e'en forgotten her who for love of thee, In tears
     and sickness and passion, hath wasted many a day?
Alas! though Love unite us again in one embrace, Reproach for thy
     past rigour with me full long shall stay.

When the portress heard this second song, she gave a loud scream and exclaimed, 'By Allah! it is good!' and putting her hand to her clothes, tore them as before and fell down in a swoon. Whereupon the cateress rose and brought her another dress, after she had sprinkled water on her. Then she sat up again and said to the cateress 'To it again and help me to do the rest of my duty; for there remains but one more song.' So the cateress took the lute and sang the following verses:

How long, ah me! shall this rigour last and this inhumanity? Are
     not the tears that I have shed enough to soften thee?
If thou, of thy relentless will, estrangement do prolong,
     Intending my despite, at last, I pray, contented be!
If treacherous fortune were but just to lovers and their woe,
     They would not watch the weary night in sleepless agony.
Have ruth on me, for thy disdain is heavy on my heart; Is it not
     time that thou relent at last, my king, to me?
To whom but thee that slayest me should I reveal my pain? What
     grief is theirs who love and prove the loved one's perfidy!
Love and affliction hour by hour redouble in my breast: The days
     of exile are prolonged; no end to them I see.
Muslims, avenge a slave of love, the host of wakefulness, Whose
     patience hath been trampled out by passion's tyranny!
Can it be lawful, O my wish, that thou another bless With thine
     embraces, whilst I die, in spite of Love's decree?
Yet in thy presence, by my side, what peace should I enjoy, Since
     he I love doth ever strive to heap despite on me?

When the portress heard this third song, she screamed out and putting forth her hand, tore her clothes even to the skirt and fell down in a swoon for the third time, and there appeared once more on her body the marks of beat ing with rods. Then said the three Calenders, 'Would God we had never entered this house, but had slept on the rubbish-heaps! for verily our entertainment hath been troubled by things that rend the heart.' The Khalif turned to them and said, 'How so?' And they answered, 'Indeed, our minds are troubled about this matter.' Quoth he, 'Are you not then of the household?' 'No,' replied they; 'nor did we ever see the place till now.' Said the Khalif, 'There is the man by you: he will surely know the meaning of all this.' And he winked at the porter. So they questioned the latter and he replied, 'By the Almighty, we are all in one boat! I was brought up at Baghdad, but never in my life did I enter this house till to-day, and the manner of my coming in company with them was curious.' 'By Allah,' said they, 'we thought thee one of them, and now we see thou art but as one of ourselves.' Then said the Khalif, 'We are here seven men, and they are but three women: so let us question them of their case, and if they do not answer willingly, they shall do so by force.' They all agreed to this, except Jaafer, who said, 'This is not well-advised: let them be, for we are their guests, and as ye know, they imposed on us a condition, to which we all agreed. Wherefore it is better that we keep silence concerning this affair, for but a little remains of the night, and each go about his business.' And he winked to the Khalif and whispered to him, 'There is but a little longer to wait, and to-morrow I will bring them before thee and thou canst then question them of their story.' But the Khalif lifted his head and cried out angrily, 'I have not patience to wait till then: let the Calenders ask them.' And Jaafer said, 'This is not well-advised.' Then they consulted together, and there was much talk and dispute between them, who should put the question, before they fixed upon the porter. The noise drew the notice of the lady of the house, who said to them, 'O guests, what is the matter and what are you talking about?' Then the porter came forward and said to her, 'O lady, the company desire that thou acquaint them with the history of the two bitches and why thou didst beat them and after fellest to kissing and weeping over them and also concerning thy sister and why she has been beaten with rods, like a man. This is what they charge me to ask thee, and peace be on thee.' When she heard this, she turned to the others and said to them 'Is this true that he says of you?' And they all replied 'Yes;' except Jaafer, who held his peace. Then said she, 'By Allah! O guests, ye have done us a grievous wrong, for we made it a previous condition with you that whoso spoke of what concerned him not, should hear what should not please him. Is it not enough that we have taken you into our house and fed you with our victual! But the fault is not so much yours as that of her who brought you in to us.' Then she tucked up her sleeves and smote three times on the floor, saying, 'Come quickly!' Whereupon the door of a closet opened and out came seven black slaves, with drawn swords in their hands, to whom said the lady, 'Bind these babblers' hands behind them and tie them one with another.' The slaves did as she bade, and said, 'O noble lady, is it thy will that we strike off their heads?' 'Hold your hands awhile,' answered she, 'till I question them of their condition, before ye strike off their heads.' 'By Allah, O my lady,' exclaimed the porter 'do not slay me for another's fault, for all have erred and offended save myself. And by Allah, our night would have been a pleasant one, had we not been afflicted with these Calenders, whose presence is enough to lay a flourishing city in ruins.' And he repeated the following verses:

How fair a thing is mercy to the great! And how much more to
     those of low estate!
By all the love that has between us been, Doom not the guiltless
     to the guilty's fate!

When the lady heard this, she laughed, in spite of her anger, and coming up to the guests, said to them, 'Tell me who you are, for ye have but a little while to live, and were you not men of rank and consideration, you had never dared to act thus.' Then the Khalif said to Jaafer, 'Out on thee! Tell her who we are, or we shall be slain in a mistake, and speak her fair, ere an abomination befall us.' 'It were only a part of thy deserts,' replied Jaafer. Whereupon the Khalif cried out at him in anger and said, 'There is a time to jest and a time to be serious.' Then the lady said to the Calenders, 'Are ye brothers?' 'Not so,' answered they; 'we are only poor men and strangers.' And she said to one of them, 'Wast thou born blind of one eye?' 'No, by Allah!' replied he; 'but there hangs a rare story by the loss of my eye, a story which, were it graven with needles on the corners of the eye, would serve as a lesson to those that can profit by example.' She questioned the two other Calenders, and they made a like reply, saying, 'By Allah! O our mistress, each one of us comes from a different country and is the son of a king and a sovereign prince ruling over lands and subjects.' Then she turned to the others and said to them, 'Let each of you come forward in turn and tell us his history and the manner of his coming hither and after go about his business; but whoso refuses, I will cut off his head.' The first to come forward was the porter, who said, 'O my lady, I am a porter. This lady, the cateress, hired me and took me first to the vintner's, then to the butcher's, from the butcher's to the fruiterer's, from the fruiterer's to the grocer's, from the grocer's to the greengrocer's, from the greengrocer's to the confectioner's and the druggist's, and thence to this place, where there happened to me with you what happened. This is my story; and peace be on thee!' At this the lady laughed and said to him, 'Begone about thy business.' But he said, 'By Allah, I will not budge 'till I hear the others' stories.' Then came forward the first Calender and said, 'Know, O lady, that

The First Calender's Story.

My father was a king, and he had a brother, who was also a king over another city. The latter had a son and a daughter, and it chanced that I and the son of my uncle were both born on the same day. In due time we grew up to man's estate and there was a great affection between us. Now it was my wont every now and then to visit my uncle and abide with him several months at a time. One day, I went to visit him as usual and found him absent a-hunting; but my cousin received me with the utmost courtesy and slaughtered sheep and strained wine for me and we sat down to drink. When the wine had got the mastery of us, my cousin said to me, "O son of my uncle I have a great service to ask of thee, and I beg of thee not to baulk me in what I mean to do." "With all my heart," answered I; and he made me swear by the most solemn oaths to do his will. Then he went away and returning in a little, with a lady veiled and perfumed and very richly clad, said to me, "Take this lady and go before me to the burial-ground and enter such and such a sepulchre," and he described it to me and I knew it, "and wait till I come." I could not gainsay him, by reason of the oath I had sworn to him; so I took the lady and carried her to the cemetery, and entering the tomb sat down to await my cousin, who soon rejoined us, carrying a vessel of water, a bag containing plaster and an adze. He went up to the tomb in the midst of the sepulchre and loosening its stones with the adze, laid them on one side after which he fell to digging with the adze in the earth till he uncovered a trap of iron, as big as a small door, and raised it, when there appeared beneath it a winding stair. Then he turned to the lady and said to her, "Up and make thy choice." So she descended the stair and was lost to sight; and he said to me, "O my cousin, when I have descended, complete thy kindness to me by replacing the trap-door and throwing back the earth on it: then mix the plaster in the bag with the water in this vessel and build up the tomb again with the stones and plaster it over as before, lest any see it and say, 'This tomb has been newly opened, albeit it is an old one;' for I have been at work here a whole year, unknown to any save God. This then is the service I had to ask of thee, and may God never bereave thy friends of thee, O my cousin!" Then he descended the stair; and when he was out of sight, I replaced the trap-door and did as he had bidden me, till the tomb was restored to its original condition, and I the while in a state of intoxication; after which I returned to the palace, and found my uncle still absent. Next morning I called to mind what had happened and repented of having obeyed my cousin, when repentance was of no avail, but thought that it must have been a dream. So I fell to enquiring after my cousin; but none could give me any news of him; and I went out to the burial-ground and sought for the tomb where I had left him, but could not find it, and ceased not to go from sepulchre to sepulchre and from tomb to tomb, without success, till nightfall. Then I returned to the palace and could neither eat nor drink, for my heart was troubled about my cousin, seeing I knew not what was come of him; and I was extremely chagrined and slept not that night, but lay awake for anxiety till morning. As soon as it was day, I repaired again to the cemetery, pondering what my cousin had done and repenting me of having hearkened to him, and vent round among all the tombs, but could not find the one I sought. Thus I did for the space of seven days, but with no better success, and my trouble and anxiety increased till I was well-nigh mad and could find nothing for it but to return to my father. So I set out and journeyed till I reached his capital; but as I entered the gate of the city, a number of men sprang out on me and tied my hands behind me. At this I was beyond measure amazed, seeing that I was the son of the Sultan and that they were his servants and my own; and great fear fell on me, and I said to myself, "I wonder what has befallen my father!" Then I questioned my captors; but they returned me no answer. However, after awhile, one of them, who had been my servant, said to me, "Fortune has played thy father false; and the troops deserted him. So the Vizier slew him and seized on his throne; and we laid wait for thee by his command." Then they took me and carried me before the Vizier, well-nigh distraught for this news of my father. Now between me and this Vizier was an old feud, the cause of which was as follows. I was fond of shooting with a pellet-bow, and one day, as I was standing on the terrace of my palace, a bird lighted on the terrace of the Vizier's house, where the latter chanced to be standing at the time. I let fly at the bird, but, as fate and destiny would have it, the pellet swerved and striking the Vizier on the eye, put it out. As says the poet:

Our footsteps follow on in their predestined way, Nor from the
     ordered track can any mortal stray:
And he whom Fate appoints in any land to die, No other place on
     earth shall see his dying day.

The Vizier dared say nothing, at the time, because I was the Sultan's son of the city, but thenceforward he nourished a deadly hatred against me. So when they brought me bound before him, he commanded my head to be smitten off; and I said, "For what crime wilt thou put me to death?" "What crime could be greater than this?" answered he, and pointed to his ruined eye. Quoth I, "That I did by misadventure." And he replied, "If thou didst it by misadventure, I will do the like with intent." Then said he, "Bring him to me." So they brought me up to him, and he put his finger into my right eye and pulled it out; and thenceforward I became one-eyed as ye see me. Then he caused me to be bound hand and foot and put in a chest and said to the headsman, "Take this fellow and carry him forth of the city and slay him and leave him for the beasts and birds to eat." So the headsman carried me without the city to the midst of the desert, where he took me out of the chest, bound hand and foot as I was, and would have bandaged my eyes, that he might slay me. But I wept sore till I made him weep, and looking at him, repeated the following verses:

I counted on you as a coat of dart-proof mail toward The foeman's
     arrows from my breast. Alas! ye are his sword!
I hoped in you to succour me in every evil chance, Although my
     right hand to my left no more should help afford.
Yet stand aloof nor cast your lot with those who do me hate, And
     let my foemen shoot their shafts against your whilom lord!
If you refuse to succour me against my enemies, At least be
     neutral, nor to me nor them your aid accord.

And these also:

How many of my friends, methought, were coats of mail! And so
     they were, indeed, but on my foeman's part.
Unerring shafts and true I deemed them; and they were Unerring
     shafts, indeed, alas, but in my heart!

When the headsman heard this (now he had been my father's headsman and I had done him kindness) he said, "O my lord what can I do, being but a slave commanded?" Then he said, "Fly for thy life and never return to this country, or thou art lost and I with thee." As says one of the poets:

Escape with thy life, if oppression betide thee, And let the
     house tell of its builder's fate!
Country for country thou'lt find, if thou seek it; Life for life
     never, early or late.
It is strange men should dwell in the house of abjection, When
     the plain of God's world is so wide and so great!

I kissed his hands, hardly crediting my escape; and recked little of the loss of my eye, in consideration of my deliverance from death. Then I repaired to my uncle's capital and going in to him, told him what had befallen my father and myself; whereat he wept sore and said, "Verily, thou addest affliction to my affliction and sorrow to my sorrow; for thy cousin has been missing these many days; I know not what is become of him, and none can give me any news of him." Then he wept till he swooned away, and my heart was sore for him. When he revived, he would have medicined my eye, but found there was but the socket left and said, "O my son, it is well that it was thine eye and not thy life!" I could not keep silence about my cousin; so I told him all that had passed, and he rejoiced greatly at hearing news of his son and said, "Come, show me the tomb." "By Allah, O my uncle," answered I, "I know it not, for I went after many times to seek for it, but could not find it." However, we went out to the burial-ground and looked right and left, till at last I discovered the tomb. At this we both rejoiced greatly and entering, removed the earth, raised the trapdoor and descended fifty steps, till we came to the foot of the stair, where we were met by a great smoke that blinded our eyes: and my uncle pronounced the words, which whoso says shall never be confounded, that is to say, "There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme!" Then we went on and found ourselves in a saloon, raised upon columns, drawing air and light from openings communicating with the surface of the ground and having a cistern in its midst. The place was full of crates and sacks of flour and grain and other victual; and at the upper end stood a couch with a canopy over it. My uncle went up to the bed and drawing the curtains, found his son and the lady in each other's arms; but they were become black coal, as they had been cast into a well of fire. When he saw this, he spat in his son's face and taking off his shoe, smote him with it, exclaiming, "Swine that thou art, thou hast thy deserts! This is thy punishment in this world, but there awaits thee a far sorer and more terrible punishment in the world to come!" His behaviour amazed me, and I mourned for my cousin, for that he was become a black coal, and said to the king, "O my uncle, is not that which hath befallen him enough, but thou must beat him with thy shoe?" "O son of my brother," answered my uncle, "this my son was from his earliest youth madly enamoured of his sister, and I forbade him from her, saying in myself, 'They are but children.' But, when they grew up, sin befell between them, notwithstanding that his attendants warned him to abstain from so foul a thing, which none had done before nor would do after him, lest the news of it should be carried abroad by the caravans and he become dishonoured and unvalued among kings to the end of time. I heard of this and believed it not, but took him and upbraided him severely, saying, 'Have a care lest this thing happen to thee; for I will surely curse thee and put thee to death.' Then I shut her up and kept them apart, but this accursed girl loved him passionately, and Satan got the upper hand of them and made their deeds to seem good in their eyes. So when my son saw that I had separated them, he made this place under ground and transported victual hither, as thou seest, and taking advantage of my absence a-hunting, came here with his sister, thinking to enjoy her a long while. But the wrath of God descended on them and consumed them; and there awaits them in the world to come a still sorer and more terrible punishment." Then he wept and I with him, and he looked at me and said, "Henceforth thou art my son in his stead." Then I bethought me awhile of the world and its chances and how the Vizier had slain my father and usurped his throne and put out my eye and of the strange events that had befallen my cousin and wept again, and my uncle wept with me. Presently we ascended, and replacing the trap-door, restored the tomb to its former condition. Then we resumed to the palace, but hardly had we sat down when we heard a noise of drums and trumpets and cymbals and galloping of cavalry and clamour of men and clash of arms and clank of bridles and neighing of horses, and the world was filled with clouds of dust raised by the horses' hoofs. At this we were amazed and knew not what could be the matter so we enquired and were told that the Vizier, who had usurped my father's throne, had levied troops and hired the wild Arabs and was come with an army like the sands of the sea, none could tell their number nor could any avail against them. They assaulted the city unawares, and the people, being unable to withstand them, surrendered the place to them. My uncle was slain and I took refuge in the suburbs, knowing that, if I fell into the Vizier's hands, he would put me to death. Wherefore trouble was sore upon me and I bethought me of all that had befallen me and my father and uncle and knew not what to do, for if I showed myself, the people of the city and my father's troops would know me and hasten to win the usurpers favour by putting me to death; and I could find no means of escape but by shaving my face. So I shaved off my beard and eyebrows and donning a Calender's habit, left the town, without being known of any, and made for this city, in the hope that perhaps some one would bring me to the presence of the Commander of the Faithful and Vicar of the Lord of the Two Worlds, that I might relate to him my story and lay my case before him. I arrived here today and was standing, perplexed where I should go, when I saw this second Calender; so I saluted him, saying "I am a stranger," and he replied, "And I also am a stranger." Presently up came our comrade, this other Calender, and saluted us, saying, "I am a stranger." "We also are strangers," answered we; and we walked on together, till darkness overtook us, and destiny led us to your house. This, then, is my history and the manner of the loss of my right eye and the shaving of my beard and eyebrows.' They all marvelled at his story, and the Khalif said to Jaafer, 'By Allah, I never heard or saw the like of what happened to this Calender.' Then the mistress of the house said to the Calender, 'Begone about thy business.' But he answered, 'I will not budge till I hear the others' stories.' Then came forth the second Calender and kissing the earth, said, 'O my lady, I was not born blind of one eye, and my story is a marvellous one; were it graven with needles on the corners of the eye, it would serve as a warning to those that can profit by example.

The Second Calender's Story.

I am a king, son of a king. My father taught me to read and write, and I got the Koran by heart, according to the seven readings, and read all manner of books under the guidance of learned professors; I studied the science of the stars and the sayings of poets and applied myself to all branches of knowledge, till I surpassed all the folk of my time. In particular, my skill in handwriting excelled that of all the scribes, and my fame was noised abroad in all countries and at the courts of all the kings. Amongst others, the King of Ind heard of me and sent to my father to seek me, with gifts and presents such as befit kings. So my father fitted out six ships for me, and we put to sea and sailed for a whole month, till we reached the land. Then we brought out the horses that were with us in the ships, together with ten camels laden with presents for the King of Ind. and set out inland, but had not gone far, before there arose a great dust, that grew till it covered the whole country. After awhile it lifted and discovered fifty steel-clad horsemen, as they were fierce lions, whom we soon found to be Arab highwaymen. When they saw that we were but a small company and had with us ten laden camels, they drove at us with levelled spears. We signed to them with our fingers to do us no hindrance, for that we were ambassadors to the mighty King of Ind; but they replied (in the same manner) that they were not in his dominions nor under his rule. Then they set on us and slew some of my attendants and put the rest to flight; and I also fled, after I had gotten a sore wound whilst the Arabs were taken up with the baggage. I knew not whither to turn, being reduced from high to low estate; so I fled forth at a venture till I came to the top of a mountain, where I took shelter for the night in a cavern. On the morrow, I continued my journey and fared on thus for a whole month, till I reached a safe and pleasant city. The winter had passed away from it with its cold and the spring was come with its roses; its flowers were blowing and its streams welling and its birds warbling. As says the poet, describing the city in question:

A town, wherein who dwells is free from all affray; Security and
     peace are masters there alway.
Like Paradise itself, it seemeth, for its folk, With all its
     beauties rare decked out in bright array.

I was both glad and sorry to reach the city, glad for that I was weary with my journey and pale for weakness and anxiety, and grieved to enter it in such sorry case. However, I went in, knowing not whither to betake me, and fared on till I came to a tailor sitting in his shop. I saluted him, and he returned my salute and bade me a kindly welcome, and seeing me to be a stranger and noting marks of gentle breeding on me, enquired how I came thither. I told him all that had befallen me; and he was concerned for me and said, "O my son, do not discover thyself to any, for the King of this city is the chief of thy father's foes and hath a mortal feud against him." Then he set meat and drink before me, and I ate and he with me, and we talked together till nightfall, when he lodged me in a chamber beside his own, and brought me a bed and coverlet. I abode with him three days, at the end of which time he said to me, "Dost thou know any craft by which thou mayst earn thy living?" I replied, "I am a doctor of the law and a man of learning, a scribe, a grammarian, a poet, a mathematician and a skilled penman." Quoth he, "Thy trade is not in demand in this country nor are there in this city any who understand science or writing or aught but money-getting." "By Allah," said I, "I know nought but what I have told thee!" And he said, "Gird thy middle and take axe and cord and go and cut firewood in the desert for thy living, till God send thee relief, and tell none who thou art, or they will kill thee." Then he bought me an axe and a cord and gave me in charge to certain woodcutters; with whom I went out into the desert and cut wood all day and carried home a load on my head. I sold it for half a dinar, with part of which I bought victual and laid up the rest. On this wise I lived a whole year, at the end of which time I went out one day into the desert, according to my wont, and straying from my companions, happened on a tract full of trees and running streams, in which there was abundance of firewood; so I entered and coming on the gnarled stump of a great tree, dug round it with my axe and cleared the earth away from it. Presently, the axe struck upon a ring of brass; so I cleared away the earth, till I uncovered a wooden trap-door, which I raised and there appeared beneath it a stair I descended the stair, till I came to a door, which I opened and found myself in a vaulted hall of goodly structure, wherein was a damsel like a pearl of great price, whose aspect banished pain and care and anxiety from the heart and whose speech healed the troubled soul and captivated the wise and the intelligent. She was slender of shape and swelling-breasted, delicate-cheeked and bright of colour and fair of form; and indeed her face shone like the sun through the night of her tresses, and her teeth glittered above the snows of her bosom. As says the poet of her:

Slender of waist, with streaming hair the hue of night, is she, With hips like hills of sand and shape straight as the balsam-tree.

And as says another:

There are four things that ne'er unite, except it be To shed my
     heart's best blood and take my soul by storm.
And these are night-black locks and brow as bright as day, Cheeks
     ruddy as the rose and straight and slender form.

When I looked on her, I prostrated myself before her Maker, for the grace and beauty He had created in her and she looked at me and said, "Art thou a man or a genie?" "I am a man," answered I; and she said, "And who brought thee to this place, where I have dwelt five-and-twenty years without seeing man?" Quoth I (and indeed her speech was sweet to me), "O my lady, my good star brought me hither for the dispelling of my grief and anxiety." And I told her all that had befallen me from first to last. My case was grievous to her and she wept: then she said, "I will tell thee my story in turn. I am the daughter of a King of Farther India, by name Efitamous, Lord of the Ebony Islands, who married me to my cousin, but on my wedding-night an Afrit called Jerjis ben Rejmous, the mother's sister's son of Iblis, carried me off and flying away with me, set me down in this place whither he transported all that I needed of clothes and ornaments and furniture and meat and drink and so forth. Once in every ten days he comes to me and lies the night here, then goes his way; for he took me without the consent of his family: and he has agreed with me that, in case I should ever have occasion for him in the interval between his visits, whether by night or by day, I have only to touch these two lines engraved upon the alcove, and he will be with me before I take away my hand. It is now four days since he was here, and there remain six before he comes again. Wilt thou therefore spend five days with me and depart the day before his coming?" "I will well," answered I. "O rare! if it be not all a dream." At this she rejoiced and taking me by the hand, led me through a vaulted doorway into a small but elegant bath-room, where we put off our clothes and she washed me. Then she clad me in a new suit and seated me by her side on a high divan and gave me to drink of sherbet of sugar flavoured with musk. Then she brought food, and we ate and conversed. After awhile, she said to me, "Lie down and rest, for thou art weary." So I lay down and slept and forgot all that had befallen me. When I awoke, I found her rubbing my feet:[FN#30] so I thanked her and blessed her, and we sat talking awhile. Quoth she, "By Allah, I was sad at heart, for that I have dwelt alone under ground these five-and-twenty years, without any to talk withal. So praised be God who hath sent thee to me!" Then she said, "O youth, art thou for wine?" And I answered, "As thou wilt." Whereupon she went to the cupboard and took out a sealed flask of old wine and decked the table with flowers and green herbs. Then she recited the following verses:

Had we thy coming known, we would for sacrifice Have poured thee
     forth heart's blood and blackness of the eyes:
Ay, and we would have laid our cheeks within thy way, That so thy
     feet might tread on eyelids, carpet-wise!

I thanked her, for indeed love of her had taken hold of me, and my grief and anxiety left me. We sat carousing till nightfall, and I passed the night with her, never knew I such a night. On the morrow, delight succeeded delight till the middle of the day, when I drank wine, till I lost my senses and rose, staggering from side to side, and said to her, "Come, O fair one! I will carry thee up from under the earth and rid thee of this genie." She laughed and replied, "Be content and hold thy peace. One day in every ten is the genie's, and the other nine shall be thine." Quoth I (and indeed drunkenness had got the better of me), "This very moment will I break the alcove, on which is graven the talisman, and summon the Afrit hither, that I may kill him, for I am used to kill Afrits ten at a time." When she heard this, she conjured me by Allah to refrain and repeated the following verses:

This is a thing wherein thine own destruction lies: I rede thee keep thyself therefrom, if thou be wise.

And also these:

O thou that seek'st to hasten on the feet Of parting's steeds,
     the matchless swift of flight,
Forbear, for fortune's nature is deceit, And parting is the end
     of love delight.

I paid no heed to her words, but kicked the alcove with all my might, and immediately the place grew dark, it thundered and lightened, the earth trembled and the world was wrapped in gloom. When I saw this, the fumes of the wine left my head and I said to the lady, "What is the matter?" "The Afrit is upon us," answered she "Did I not warn thee of this! By Allah, thou hast ruined me! But fly for thy life and return whence thou camest." So I ascended the stair, but, in the excess of my fear I forgot my sandals and hatchet. When I had mounted two steps, I turned to look, and behold, the ground clove in sunder and out came an Afrit of hideous aspect, who said to the lady, "What is this commotion with which thou disturbest me? What misfortune has befallen thee?" "Nothing has befallen me," answered she, "except that I was heavy at heart and drank a little wine to hearten myself. Then I rose to do an occasion, but my head became heavy and I fell against the alcove." "Thou liest, O harlot!" said he, and looked right and left, till he caught sight of the axe and the sandals and said, "These are some man's gear. Who has been with thee?" Quoth she, "I never set eyes on them till this moment; they must have clung to thee as thou camest hither." But he said, "This talk is absurd and will not impose on me, O strumpet!" Then he stripped her naked and stretching her on the ground, tied her hands and feet to four stakes and proceeded to torture her to make her confess. I could not bear to hear her weeping; so I ascended the stair, quaking for fear. When I reached the top, I replaced the trap-door and covered it over with earth; and I thought of the lady and her beauty and what had befallen her through my folly and repented me sore of what I had done. Then I bethought me of my father and his kingdom and how I had become a woodcutter, and how, after my life had been awhile serene, it had again become troubled, and I wept and repeated the following verse:

What time the cruelties of Fate o'erwhelm thee with distress, Think that one day must bring thee ease, another day duresse.

Then I went on till I reached the house of my friend, whom I found awaiting me, as he were on coals of fire on my account. When he saw me, he rejoiced and said, "O my brother, where didst thou pass the night? My heart has been full of anxiety on thine account, fearing for thee from the wild beasts or other peril: but praised be God for thy safety!" I thanked him for his solicitude, and retiring to my chamber, fell a-musing on what had passed and reproached myself grievously for my meddlesomeness in kicking the alcove. Presently the tailor came in to me and said, "O my son, there is without an old man, a foreigner, who seeks thee. He has thine axe and sandals and came to the woodcutters and said to them, 'I went out at the hour of the call to morning prayer and happened on these and know not whose they are: direct me to their owner.' They knew thine axe and sent him to thee; and he is now sitting in my shop. So do thou go out to him and thank him and take thy gear." When I heard this, my colour changed and I was sick for terror but before I could think, the floor clove asunder and up came the stranger, and lo, it was the Afrit! Now he had tortured the lady in the most barbarous manner, without being able to make her confess: so he took the axe and sandals, saying, "As sure as I am Jerjis of the lineage of Iblis, I will bring back the owner of this axe and these sandals!" So he went to the woodcutters with the tale aforesaid, and they directed him to me. He snatched me up without parley and flew high into the air, but presently descended and plunged into the ground with me, and I the while unconscious. Then he came up with me in the underground palace, where I saw the lady stretched out naked, with the blood running from her sides. At this sight, my eyes ran over with tears; but the Afrit unbound her and veiling her, said to her, "O wanton, is not this thy lover?" She looked at me and said, "I know not this man, nor have I ever seen him till now." Quoth he, "Wilt thou not confess after all this torture?" And she answered, "I never saw him in my life, and God forbid that I should lie against him and thou kill him." "Then," said he, "if thou know him not, take this sword and cut off his head." She took the sword and came and stood at my head; and I made signs to her with my eyebrows whilst the tears ran down my cheeks. She understood me and signed to me with her eyes as who should say, "Thou hast brought all this upon us." And I answered her, in the same fashion, that it was a time for forgiveness; and the tongue of the case spoke[FN#31] the words of the poet:

My looks interpret for my tongue and tell of what I feel: And all
     the love appears that I within my heart conceal.
When as we meet and down our cheeks our tears are running fast,
     I'm dumb, and yet my speaking eyes my thought of thee
     reveal.
She signs to me; and I, I know the things her glances say: I with
     my fingers sign, and she conceives the mute appeal.
Our eyebrows of themselves suffice unto our intercourse: We're
     mute; but passion none the less speaks in the looks we
     steal.

Then she threw down the sword and said, "How shall I strike off the head of one whom I know not and who has done me no hurt? My religion will not allow of this." Quoth the Afrit, "It is grievous to thee to kill thy lover. Because he hath lain a night with thee, thou endurest this torture and wilt not confess upon him. It is only like that pities like." Then he turned to me and said, "O mortal, dost thou not know this woman?" "Who is she?" answered I. "I never saw her till now." "Then," said he "take this sword and strike off her head and I will believe that thou knowest her not and will let thee go and do thee no hurt." Quoth I, "It is well;" and taking the sword, went up to her briskly and raised my hand. But she signed to me with her eyebrows, as who should say, "What hurt have I done thee? Is it thus thou requitest me?" I understood what she would say and replied in the same manner, "I will ransom thee with my life." And the tongue of the case repeated the following verses:

How many a lover with his eyelids speaks And doth his thought
     unto his mistress tell
He flashes signals to her with his eyes, And she at once is ware
     of what befell.
How swift the looks that pass betwixt the twain! How fair,
     indeed, and how delectable!
One with his eyelids writes what he would say: The other with her
     eyes the writ doth spell.

Then my eyes ran over with tears and I said, "O mighty Afrit and doughty hero! if a woman, lacking sense and religion, deem it unlawful to strike off my head, how can I, who am a man, bring myself to slay her whom I never saw in my life? Never will I do it, though I drink the cup of death and ruin!" And I threw the sword from my hand. Quoth the Afrit, "Ye show the good understanding between you, but I will let you see the issue of your doings." Then he took the sword and cut off the lady's hands and feet at four strokes; whilst I looked on and made sure of death; and she signed me a farewell with her eyes. Quoth he, "Thou cuckoldest me with thine eyes!" And struck off her head with a blow of his sword. Then he turned to me and said, "O mortal, by our law; when our wives commit adultery, it is lawful to us to put them to death. As for this woman, I stole her away on her wedding-night, when she was a girl of twelve, and she has known no one but myself. I used to come to her once in every ten days in the habit of a man, a foreigner, and pass one night with her; and when I was assured that she had played me false, I slew her. But as for thee, I am not sure that thou west her accomplice: nevertheless, I must not let thee go unharmed; but I will grant thee a favour." At this I rejoiced greatly and said, "What favour wilt thou grant me?" "I will give thee thy choice," replied he, "whether I shall change thee into a dog, an ass or an ape." Quoth I (and indeed I had hoped that he would pardon me), "By Allah, spare me, and God will reward thee for sparing a true believer, who hath done thee no harm." And I humbled myself before him to the utmost and wept, saying, "Indeed, thou dost me injustice." "Do not multiply words on me," answered he; "it is in my power to kill thee: but I give thee thy choice." "O Afrit," rejoined I, "it would best become thee to pardon me, even as the envied pardoned the envier." Quoth he, "And how was that?" "They say, O Afrit," answered I, "that

Story of the Envier and the Envied.

There dwelt once in a certain city two men, who occupied adjoining houses, having a common party-wall; and one of them envied the other and looked on him with an evil eye and did his utmost endeavour to work him ill; and his envy grew on him till he could hardly eat or enjoy the delight of sleep for it. But the envied man did nought but prosper, and the more the other strove to do him hurt, the more he increased and throve and flourished. At last the hatred his neighbour bore him and his constant endeavour to do him hurt came to his knowledge and he said, 'By Allah, I will renounce the world on his account!' So he left his native place and settled in a distant city, where he bought a piece of land, in which was a dried-up well, that had once been used for watering the fields. Here he built him an oratory, which he fitted up with all that he required, and took up his abode therein, devoting himself with a sincere heart to the service of God the Most High. Fakirs[FN#32] and poor folk soon flocked to him from all sides, and his fame spread abroad in the city, so that the notables resorted to him. After awhile, the news reached the envious man of the good fortune that had befallen his old neighbour and the high consideration in which he was held: so he set out for the town in which the latter dwelt and repaired to the hermitage, where the envied man welcomed him and received him with the utmost honour. Quoth the envier, 'I have journeyed hither on purpose to tell thee a piece of good news. So order thy fakirs to retire to their cells and go with me apart, for I will not say what I have to tell thee, except privately where none may overhear us.' Accordingly the envied man ordered the fakirs to retire to their cells; and they did so. Then he took the other by the hand and walked on with him a little way, till they came to the deserted well, when the envious man gave the other a push and cast him into the well, unseen of any; after which, he went out and went his way thinking that he had killed him. Now this well was haunted by Jinn, who bore up the envied man and let him down little by little, so that he reached the bottom unhurt, and they seated him on a stone. Then said one of the Jinn to the others, 'Know ye who this is?' And they answered, 'No.' Quoth he, 'This is the envied man who fled from him who envied him and settled in our city, where he built him this oratory and entertains us with his litanies and recitations of the Koran. But the envious man set out and journeyed till he rejoined him and contrived to throw him into this well. Now the news of him hath this very night come to the Sultan of the city and he purposes to visit him to-morrow, on account of his daughter. 'And what ails his daughter?' asked another. 'She is possessed of an evil spirit,' replied the first, 'for the genie Meimoun ben Demdem has fallen in love with her; but if the pious man knew the remedy, he could cure her; and it is the easiest of things.' 'And what is the remedy?' asked the other. Quoth the first speaker 'The black cat that is with him in the oratory has a white spot, the size of a dirhem, at the end of her tail: he should take seven white hairs from this spot and fumigate the princess therewith; whereupon the Marid will leave her and never return, and she will be cured immediately.' And the envied man heard all this. When the day broke and the morning appeared and shone, the fakirs came to seek their chief and found him rising from the well, wherefore he was magnified in their eyes; and he took the black cat and plucking seven white hairs from the spot at the end of her tail, laid them aside. The sun had hardly risen when the King arrived and entered the hermitage, attended by his chief officers, leaving the rest of his suite without. The envied man bade him welcome and drawing near to him, said, 'Shall I tell thee the object of thy visit?' 'Yes,' answered the King. And he said, 'Thou comest to consult me concerning thy daughter.' Quoth the King, 'Thou sayst truly, O virtuous elder!' Then said the envied man, 'Send and fetch her, and (God willing) I trust to cure her at once.' The King rejoiced and sent for his daughter; and they brought her bound hand and foot. The envied man made her sit down behind a curtain and taking out the hairs, fumigated her with them; whereupon the Afrit that was in her roared out and departed from her. And she was restored to her right mind and veiled her face, saying, 'What has happened and who brought me hither?' At this, the Sultan rejoiced beyond measure and kissed her on the eyes and kissed the envied man's hand. Then he turned to his officers and said, 'How say you? What reward doth he deserve who cured my daughter?' They answered, 'He deserves to have her to wife;' and the King, 'Ye say well.' So he married him to her, and the envied man became the King's son-in-law. After awhile, the Vizier died, and the King said, 'Whom shall we make Vizier in his stead?' 'Thy son-in-law,' answered the courtiers. So the envied man was made Vizier. Presently the Sultan also died, and the grandees determined to appoint the Vizier King in his place. So they made him Sultan, and he became King regnant. One day, as he was riding forth in his royal state, surrounded by his Viziers and Amirs and grandees, his eyes fell on his old neighbour, the envious man; so he turned to one of his viziers and said to him, 'Bring me yonder man and frighten him not.' So the Vizier went and returned with the envious man: and the King said, 'Give him a thousand dinars from my treasury and twenty loads of merchandise and send him under an escort to his own city.' Then he bade him farewell and sent him away and forbore to punish him for what he had done with him See, O Afrit, how the envied man forgave his envier, who had always hated him and borne him malice and had journeyed to him and made shift to throw him into the well: yet did he not requite him his ill-doing, but on the contrary was bountiful to him and forgave him." Then I wept before him exceeding sore, and repeated the following verses:

I prithee, pardon mine offence: for men of prudent mind To pardon
     unto those that sin their sins are still inclined.
If I, alas! contain in me all fashions of offence, Let there in
     thee forgiveness fair be found in every kind.
For men are bound to pardon those that are beneath their hand, If
     they themselves with those that be above them grace would
     find.

Quoth the Afrit, "I will neither kill thee nor let thee go free, but I will assuredly enchant thee." Then he tore me from the ground and flew up with me into the air, till I saw the earth as it were a platter midmost the water. Presently he set me down on a mountain and took a little earth, over which he muttered some magical words, then sprinkled me with it, saying, "Quit this shape for that of an ape." And immediately I became an ape, a hundred years old. Then he went away and left me; and when I saw myself in this ugly shape, I wept, but resigned myself to the tyranny of fate, knowing that fortune is constant to no one, and descended to the foot of the mountain, where found a wide plain. I fared on for the space of a month till my course brought me to the shore of the salt sea: where I stood awhile and presently caught sight of a ship in the midst of the sea, making for the land with a fair wind. I hid myself behind a rock on the beach and waited till the ship drew near, when I sprang on board. Quoth one of the passengers, "Turn this unlucky brute out from amongst us!" And the captain said, "Let us kill him." And a third, "I will kill him with this sword." But I laid hold of the captain's skirts and wept, and the tears ran down my face. The captain took pity on me and said, "O merchants, this ape appeals to me for protection, and I will protect him: henceforth he is under my safeguard, and none shall molest or annoy him." Then he entreated me kindly and whatever he said I understood and ministered to all his wants and waited on him, so that he loved me. The ship sailed on with a fair wind for the space of fifty days, at the end of which time we cast anchor over against a great city, wherein were much people, none could tell their number save God. No sooner had we come to an anchor, than we were boarded by officers from the King of the city; who said to the merchants, "Our King gives you joy of your safety and sends you this scroll of paper, on which each one of you is to write a line. For know that the King's Vizier, who was an excellent penman, is dead and the King has sworn a solemn oath that he will make none Vizier in his stead who cannot write like him." Then they gave them a scroll, ten cubits long by one wide, and each of the merchants, who could write, wrote a line therein: after which I rose and snatched the scroll from their hands, and they cried out at me and rated me, fearing that I would tear it or throw it into the sea. But I made signs that I would write; whereat they marvelled, saying, "We never saw an ape write!" And the captain said to them, "Let him alone; if he scrabble, we will drive him away and kill him; but if he write well, I will adopt him as my son, for I never saw so intelligent and well-mannered an ape; and would God my son had his sense and good breeding!" So I took the pen and dipping it in the inkhorn, wrote in an epistolary hand the following verses:

Time hath recorded the virtues of the great: But thine have
     remained unchronicled till now.
May God not orphan the human race of thee, For sire and mother of
     all good deeds art thou.

Then I wrote the following in a running hand:

Thou hast a pen whose use confers good gifts on every clime; Upon
     all creatures of the world its happy favours fall.
What are the bounties of the Nile to thy munificence, Whose
     fingers five extend to shower thy benefits on all?

And in an engrossing hand the following:

There is no writer but he shall pass away: Yet what he writes
     shall last for ever and aye.
Write, therefore, nought but that which shall gladden thee, When
     as it meets thine eye on the Judgment Day.

And in a transcribing hand the following:

When separation is to us by destiny decreed And 'gainst the cruel
     chance of Fate our efforts are in vain,
Unto the inkhorn's mouth we fly that, by the tongues of pens, Of
     parting and its bitterness it may for us complain.

And in a large formal hand the following:

The regal state endureth not to any mortal man. If thou deny
     this, where is he who first on earth held sway?
Plant therefore saplings of good deeds, whilst that thou yet art
     great Though thou be ousted from thy stead, they shall not
     pass away.

And in a court hand the following:

When thou the inkhorn op'st of power and lordship over men, Make
     thou thine ink of noble thoughts and generous purpose; then
Write gracious deeds and good therewith, whilst that thy power
     endures. So shall thy virtues blazoned be at point of sword
     and pen.

Then I gave the scroll to the officers, who took it and returned with it to the King. When he saw it, no writing pleased him but mine; so he said to his officers, "Go to the writer of these lines and dress him in a splendid robe; then mount him on a mule and bring him to me with a band of music before him." At this they smiled, and the King was wroth with them and said, "O accursed ones, I give you an order, and ye laugh at me!" "O King," answered they, "we have good cause to laugh." Quoth he, "What is it?" And they replied, "O King, thou orderest us to bring thee the man who wrote these lines: now he who wrote them is no man, but an ape belonging to the captain of the ship." "Can this be true?" asked he; and they said, "Yea, by thy munificence!" The King was astonished at their report and shook with mirth and said, "I have a mind to buy this ape of the captain." Then he sent messengers to the ship and said to them, "Dress him none the less in the robe and mount him on the mule and bring him hither in state, with the band of music before him." So they came to the ship and took me and clad me in the robe and mounted me on the mule and carried me in procession through the city; whilst the people were astounded and crowded to gaze upon me, and the place was all astir on my account. When I reached the King's presence, I kissed the earth before him three times, and he bade me be seated; so I sat down on my heels; and all the bystanders marvelled at my good manners, and the King most of all. After awhile the King dismissed his courtiers, and there remained but myself, his highness the King, an eunuch and a little white slave. Then the King gave orders and they brought the table of food, containing all kinds of birds that hop and fly and couple in the nests, such as grouse and quails and so forth. He signed to me to eat with him; so I rose and kissed the earth before him then sat down and ate with him. When we had done eating, the table was removed, and I washed my hands seven times. Then I took pen and ink and wrote the following verses:

Weep for the cranes that erst within the porringers did lie, And
     for the stews and partridges evanished heave a sigh!
Mourn for the younglings of the grouse; lament unceasingly, As,
     for the omelettes and the fowls browned in the pan, do I.
How my heart yearneth for the fish, that in its different kinds,
     Upon a paste of wheaten flour lay hidden in the pie!
Praised be God for the roast meat! As in the dish it lay, With
     pot-herbs, soaked in vinegar, in porringers hard by!
My hunger was appeased: I lay, intent upon the gleam Of arms that
     in the frumenty were buried bracelet high.
I woke my sleeping appetite to eat, as 'twere in jest, Of all the
     tarts that, piled on trays, shone fair unto the eye.
O soul, have patience! For indeed, Fate full of marvel is: If
     fortune straiten thee one day, the next relief is nigh.

Then I rose and seated myself at a distance, whilst the King read what I had written and marvelled and said "Strange that an ape should be gifted with such fluency and skill in penmanship! By Allah, this is a wonder of wonders!" Then they set choice wine before the King in flagons of glass; and he drank, then passed the cup to me; and I kissed the earth and drank and wrote the following verses:

They burnt me[FN#33] with fire, to make me speak, And found me
     patient and debonair.
For this I am borne on men's hands on high And kiss the rosy lips
     of the fair!

And these also:

Morn struggles through the dusk; so pour me out, I pray, Of wine,
     such wine as makes the saddest-hearted gay!
So pure and bright it is, that whether wine in glass Or glass in
     wine be held, i' faith, 'tis hard to say.

The King read them and said, with a sigh, "If a man had this quickness of wit, he would excel all the folk of his age and time." Then he called for a chess-board and said to me, "Wilt thou play with me?" I signed with my head as who should say, "Yes," and came forward and placed the men and played two games with him, each of which I won, much to his amazement. Then I took the pen and wrote the following verses:

Two hosts throughout the live-long day contend in deadly fight,
     That waxes ever till the shades of night upon them creep;
Then, when the darkness puts an end at last unto their strife,
     Upon one couch and side by side, they lay them down to
     sleep.

These verses filled the King with wonder and delight, and he said to the eunuch, "Go to thy mistress, the Lady of Beauty, and bid her come and amuse herself with the sight of this wonderful ape." So the eunuch went out and presently returned with the lady, who, when she saw me, veiled her face, and said, "O my father, how comes it that thou art pleased to send for me and show me to strange men?" "O my daughter," said he, "there is none here save the little slave and the eunuch who reared thee and myself, thy father. From whom then dost thou veil thy face?" Quoth she, "This that thou deemest an ape is a wise and learned man, the son of a king; the Afrit Jerjis of the lineage of Iblis enchanted him thus, after putting to death his own wife, the daughter of King Efitamous, Lord of the Ebony Islands." At this the King wondered and turning to me, said, "Is this true that she says of thee?" And I signed with my head, as who should say, "Yes;" and wept. Then said he to his daughter, "Whence knewest thou that he was enchanted?" "O my father," answered she, "there was with me, in my childhood, an old woman who was skilled in magic and taught me its rules and practice; and I became skilled therein and committed to memory a hundred and seventy magical formulas, by the least of which I could transport the stones of thy?? behind the mountain Caf and make its site an abyss of the sea and its people fishes swimming in its midst." "O my daughter," said her father, "I conjure thee, by my life, to disenchant this young man, that I may make him my Vizier, for he is a right pleasant and ingenious youth." "With all my heart," replied she, and taking a knife, on which were engraved Hebrew characters, drew therewith a circle in the midst of the hall and wrote there in names and talismans and muttered words and charms, some of which we understood and others not. Presently the world darkened upon us, and the Afrit presented himself before us in his own shape and aspect, with hands like pitchforks legs like masts and eyes like flames of fire. We were affrighted at him, but the princess said to him, "An ill welcome to thee, O dog!" Whereupon he took the form of a lion and said to her, "O traitress, thou hast broken thy compact with me! Did we not swear that neither of us should molest the other?" "O accursed one," answered she, "how could there be a compact between me and the like of thee?" "Then," said he, "take what thou hast brought on thyself." And opening his mouth, rushed upon her: but she made haste and plucked a hair from her head and waved it in the air, muttering the while; and it at once became a sharp sword, with which she smote the lion and cut him in two. His head became a scorpion, whereupon the princess transformed herself into a great serpent and fell upon the scorpion and there befell a sore battle between them. Presently the scorpion changed to an eagle, and the serpent at once became a griffin, which pursued the eagle a long while, till the latter became a black cat. Thereupon the griffin became a piebald wolf and they fought long and sore, till the cat finding itself beaten, changed into a worm and crept into a pomegranate which lay beside the fountain in the midst of the hall whereupon the pomegranate swelled till it was as big as a watermelon. The wolf ran to seize it, but it rose into the air and falling on the pavement, broke in pieces, and all the seeds fell out and rolled hither and thither, till the floor was covered with them. Then the wolf shook itself and became a cock, which fell to picking up the seeds, till they were all gone, except one that, by the decree of Fate, had rolled to the side of the basin and lay hidden there. The cock began to crow and clap its wings and signed to us with his beak, as who should say, "Are there any grains left?" But we understood him not; and he gave such a cry that we thought the palace would fall on us. Then he ran about all over the hall, till he saw the remaining pomegranate-seed, and rushed to pick it up, but it sprang into the midst of the water and became a fish, which sank to the bottom of the basin. Thereupon the cock became big fish and plunged in after the other; and we saw nothing of them for a time, but heard a loud crying and screaming and trembled. Presently the Afrit rose out of the water, as he were one great flame, with fire and smoke issuing from his mouth and eyes and nostrils. Immediately after, the princess rose also, like a great coal of fire, and they fought till they were wrapped in flames and the hall was filled with smoke. As for us, we were well-nigh suffocated and hid ourselves and would have plunged into the water, fearing lest we be burnt up and destroyed: and the King said, "There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme! We are God's and to Him we return! Would God I had not urged my daughter to attempt the delivery of this ape, whereby I have imposed on her this fearful labour with yonder accursed Afrit, against whom all the other Afrits in the world could not prevail! And would we had never seen this ape, may God's blessing not be on him nor on the hour of his coming! We thought to do him a kindness for the love of God, by freeing him from this enchantment, and lo, we have brought this terrible travail upon ourselves!" But my tongue was tied and I could not say a word to him. Suddenly, the Afrit roared out from under the flames and coming up to us, as we stood on the dais, blew fire in our faces. The princess pursued him and blew flames at him, and the sparks from them both fell upon us; her sparks did us no hurt, but of his one lighted on my right eye and destroyed it; another fell on the King's face and scorched the lower part, burning away half his beard and making his under teeth drop out, and a third lighted on the eunuch's breast and set him on fire, so that he was consumed and died forthright. So we despaired of life and looked for nothing but death; but presently we heard a voice exclaiming, "God is most great! He giveth aid and victory to the true believer and abandoneth him who denieth the religion of Mohammed, the Moon of the Faith!" And lo, the King's daughter had burnt up the Afrit and he was become a heap of ashes! Then she came up to us and said, "Bring me a cup of water." They did so: and she spoke over the water words we understood not and sprinkled me with it, saying, "By the virtue of the Truth and of the Most Great Name of God, return to thine original shape!" And immediately I shook and became a man as before, save that I had lost my right eye. Then she cried out, "The fire! The fire! O my father, I have but an instant to live, for I am not used to fight with Jinn: had he been a man, I had slain him long ago. I had no travail till the time when the pomegranate burst asunder and I overlooked the seed in which was the genie's life. Had I picked it up, he would have died at once; but as fate and destiny would have it, I knew not of this, so that he came upon me unawares and there befell between us a sore strife under the earth and in the air and in the water: and as often as I opened on him a gate[FN#34] (of magic), he opened on me another, till at last he opened on me the gate of fire, and seldom does he on whom the gate of fire is opened escape alive. But Providence aided me against him, so that I consumed him first, after I had summoned him to embrace the faith of Islam. As for me, I am a dead woman and may God supply my place to you!" Then she called upon God for help and ceased not to implore relief from the fire, till presently a tongue of fierce flame broke out from her clothes and shot up to her breast and thence to her face. When it reached her face, she wept and said, "I testify that there is no god but God and that Mohammed is the apostle of God!" And we looked at her and behold, she was a heap of ashes beside those of the genie. We mourned for her and I wished I had been in her place, so had I not seen the fair-faced one who had done me this good office reduced to ashes; but there is no averting the decree of God. When the King saw what had befallen his daughter, he plucked out the rest of his beard and buffeted his face and rent his clothes; and I did the like, and we both wept for her. Then came in the chamberlains and grandees and were amazed to find two heaps of ashes and the Sultan in a swoon. So they stood round him till he revived and told them what had happened, whereat they were sore afflicted and the women and slave-girls shrieked aloud and kept up their lamentation for the space of seven days. Moreover, the King bade build a great dome over his daughter's ashes and burn therein candles and lamps: but the Afrit's ashes they scattered to the winds, committing them to the malediction of God. The King was sick, well-nigh unto death, for a month's space, after which health returned to him and His beard grew again. Then he sent for me and said to me, "O youth, verily we led the happiest of lives, safe from the vicissitudes of fortune, till thou camest to us, when troubles flocked upon us. O that we had never seen thee nor the ugly face of thee! For through our taking pity on thee, we are come to this state of bereavement. I have lost, on thine account, first, my daughter, who was worth a hundred men; secondly, I have suffered what befell me by the fire and the loss of my teeth, and my eunuch also is dead. I do not indeed blame thee for aught of this; for all was decreed of God to us and to thee; and praised be He that my daughter delivered thee, though at the cost of her own life! But now, O my son, depart from my city and let what has befallen us on thine account suffice. Depart in peace, and if I see thee again I will kill thee." And he cried out at me. So I went forth from his presence, knowing not whither I should go, and hardly believing in my escape. And I recalled all that had befallen me from first to last and thanked God that it was my eye that I had lost and not my life. Before I left the town, I entered the bath and shaved my head and put on a hair-cloth garment. Then I fared forth at a venture, and every day I recalled all the misfortunes that had befallen me and wept and repeated the following verses:

By the Compassionate, I'm dazed and know not where I go. Griefs
     flock on me from every side, I know not whence they grow.
I will endure till patience' self less patient is than I: I will
     have patience till it please the Lord to end my woe.
A vanquished man, without complaint, my doom I will endure, As
     the parched traveller in the waste endures the torrid glow.
I will endure till aloes'[FN#35] self confess that I, indeed, Can
     'gainst a bitt'rer thing abide than even it can show.
There is no bitt'rer thing; and yet if patience play me false, It
     were to me a bitt'rer thing than all the rest, I trow.
The wrinkles graven on my heart would speak my hidden pain If
     through my breast the thought could pierce and read what
     lies below.
Were but my load on mountains laid, they'd crumble into dust; On
     fire it would be quenched outright; on wind, 'twould cease
     to blow.
Let who will say that life is sweet; to all there comes a day
     When they must needs a bitt'rer thing than aloes[FN#36]
     undergo.

Then I journeyed through many lands and cities, intending for the Abode of Peace[FN#37], Baghdad, in the hope that I might get speech of the Commander of the Faithful and tell him all that had befallen me. I arrived here this night and found my brother, this first Calender, standing perplexed; so I saluted him and entered into converse with him. Presently up came our brother, this third Calender, and said to us, "Peace be on you! I am a stranger." "We also are strangers," answered we, "and have come hither this blessed night." So we all three walked on together, none of us knowing the others' story, till chance brought us to this door and we came in to you. This, then, is my story and the manner of the shaving of my face and the loss of my eye.' Quoth the mistress of the house, 'Thy story is indeed a rare one: and now begone about thy business.' But he replied, 'I will not stir till I hear the others' stories.' Then came forward the third Calender and said, 'O illustrious lady, my history is not like that of these my comrades, but still stranger and more marvellous, in that, whilst destiny and fore-ordained fate overcame them unawares, I with mine own hand drew fate and affliction upon myself, as thou shalt presently hear. Know that

Story of the Third Calender.

I also am a king, the son of a king, and my name is Agib, son of Khesib. My father died, and I took the kingdom after him and ruled my subjects with justice and beneficence. My capital city stood on the shore of a wide spreading sea, on which I had fifty merchant ships and fifty smaller vessels for pleasure and a hundred and fifty cruisers equipped for war; and near at hand were many great islands in the midst of the ocean. Now I loved to sail the sea and had a mind to visit the islands aforesaid so I took ship with a month's victual and set out and took my pleasure in the islands and returned to my capital Then, being minded to make a longer voyage upon the ocean, I fitted out half a score ships with provision for two months and sailed twenty days, till one night the wind blew contrary and the sea rose against us with great billows; the waves clashed together and there fell on us a great darkness. So we gave ourselves up for lost and I said, "He who perils himself is not to be commended, though he come off safe." Then we prayed to God and besought Him, but the wind ceased not to rage and the waves to clash together, till daybreak, when the wind fell, the sea became calm and the sun shone out. Presently we sighted an island, where we landed and cooked food and ate and rested two days. Then we set out again and sailed other twenty days, without seeing land; but the currents carried us out of our true course, so that the captain lost his reckoning and finding himself in strange waters, bade the watch go up to the mast-head and look out. So he climbed the mast and looked out and said "O captain, I see nothing to right and left save sky and water, but ahead I see something looming afar off in the midst of the sea, now black and now white." When the captain heard the look-out's words, he cast his turban on the deck and plucked out his beard and buffeted his face and said, "O King, we are all dead men, not one of us can be saved." We all wept for his weeping and I said to him, "O captain, tell us what it is the look-out saw." "O my lord," answered he, "know that we lost our way on the night of the storm and since then we have gone astray one-and-twenty days and there is no wind to bring us back to our true course. To-morrow, by the end of the day, we shall come to a mountain of black stone, called loadstone, for thither the currents bear us perforce. As soon as we come within a certain distance, all the nails in the ships will fly out and fasten to the mountain, and the ships will open and fall to pieces, for that God the Most High has gifted the loadstone with a secret virtue, by reason whereof all iron is attracted to it; and on this mountain is much iron, how much God only knows, from the many ships that have been wrecked there from old time. On its summit there stands a dome of brass, raised on ten columns and on the top of the dome are a horse and horseman of the same metal. The latter holds in his hand a brazen lance and on his breast is a tablet of lead, graven with names and talismans: and, O King, it is nought but this horseman that causeth the folk to perish, nor will the charm be broken till he fall from his horse." Then he wept sore and we all made sure of death and each took leave of his comrade and charged him with his last wishes, in case he should be saved. That night we slept not, and in the morning, we sighted the loadstone mountain, towards which the currents carried us with irresistible force. When the ships came within a certain distance, they opened and the nails started out and all the iron in them sought the loadstone and clove to it; so that by the end of the day, we were all struggling in the sea round the mountain. Some of us were saved, but the most part drowned, and even those who escaped knew not one of the other, being stupefied by the raging wind and the buffeting of the waves. As for me, God preserved me that I might suffer that which He willed to me of trouble and torment and affliction, for I got on a plank from one of the ships and, the wind driving it ashore, I happened on a pathway leading to the top, as it were a stair hewn out of the rock. So I called upon the name of God the Most High and besought His succour and clinging to the steps, addressed myself to climb up little by little. And God stilled the wind and aided me in my ascent, so that I reached the summit in safety. There I found nothing but the dome; so I entered, mightily rejoiced at my escape, and made my ablutions and prayed a two-bow prayer[FN#38] in gratitude to God for my preservation. Then I fell asleep under the dome and saw in a dream one who said to me, "O son of Khesib, when thou awakest, dig under thy feet and thou wilt find a bow of brass and three leaden arrows, inscribed with talismanic characters. Take the bow and shoot the arrows at the horseman on the top of the dome and rid mankind of this great calamity. When thou shootest at him, he will fall into the sea and the horse will drop at thy feet: take it and bury it in the place of the bow. This done, the sea will swell and rise till it is level with the top of the mountain, and there will appear on it a boat containing a man of brass (other than he whom thou shalt have thrown down), with an oar in his hands. He will come to thee, and do thou embark with him, but beware of naming God. He will row with thee for the space of ten days, till he brings thee to a port of safety, where thou shalt find those who will carry thee to thine own country: and all this shall be fulfilled to thee, so thou pronounce not the name of God." I started up from my sleep and hastening to do the bidding of the mysterious voice, found the bow and arrows and shot at the horseman and overthrew him; whereupon he fell into the sea, whilst the horse dropped at my feet and I took it and buried it. Then the sea grew troubled and rose till it reached the top of the mountain; nor had I long to wait before I saw a boat in the midst of the sea coming towards me. So I gave thanks to God: and when the boat came up to me, I saw in it a man of brass, with a tablet of lead on his breast, inscribed with names and talismans; and I embarked without saying a word. The boatman rowed on with me for ten whole days, till I caught sight of islands and mountains and signs of safety; whereat I was beyond measure rejoiced and in the excess of my gladness, I called upon the name of the Almighty and exclaimed, "There is no god but God! God is most great!" When behold, the boat turned over and cast me out into the sea, then righted and sank beneath the water. Now, I knew how to swim, so I swam the whole day till nightfall, when my arms and shoulders failed me for fatigue, and I abode in mortal peril and made the profession of the Faith[FN#39], looking for nothing but death. Presently, the sea rose, for the greatness of the wind, and a wave like a great rampart took me and bearing me forward, cast me up on the land, that the will of God might be done. I clambered up the beach and, putting off my clothes, wrung them and spread them out to dry, then lay down and slept all night. As soon as it was day, I put on my clothes and rose to look about me. Presently I came to a grove of trees and making a circuit round it, found that I was on a little island, surrounded on all sides by the sea; whereupon I said to myself, "No sooner do I escape from one peril than I fall into a worse." But as I was pondering my case and wishing for death, I spied a ship afar off making towards me; so I climbed up into a tree and hid myself among the branches. Presently the ship came to an anchor, and ten slaves landed, bearing spades, and made for the middle of the island, where they dug till they uncovered a trapdoor and raised it. Then they returned to the ship and brought thence bread and flour and oil and honey and meat and carpets and all else that was needed to furnish one dwelling there; nor did they leave going back and forth till they had transferred to the underground dwelling all that was in the ship: after which they again repaired to the vessel and returned, laden with wearing apparel of the finest kind and in their midst a very old man, whom time had mauled till he was wasted and worn, as he were a bone wrapped in a rag of blue cloth, through which the winds blew East and West. As says the poet of him:

Time makes us tremble ah, how piteously! For full of violence and
     might is he.
Once on a time I walked and was not tired: Now am I tired, yet
     have not walked, ah me!

He held by the hand a youth cast in the mould of symmetry and perfection, so fair that his beauty might well be the subject of proverbs; for he was like a tender sapling, ravishing every heart with his beauty and seducing every wit with his amorous grace. It was of him the poet spoke, when he said:

Beauty they brought to liken it with him: But Beauty hung its
     head for shame and fear.
"O Beauty," said they, "dost thou know his like?" It answered,
     "Never have I seen his peer."

They proceeded to the underground, where they descended all and did not reappear for an hour or more, at the end of which time the old man and the slaves came up, without the youth, and replacing the trap-door, covered it again with earth; then returned to the ship and set sail. As soon as they were out of sight, I came down from the tree and going to the place I had seen them fill up, made shift to clear away the earth, till I came to the trap-door, which was of wood, the shape and bigness of a mill-stone, and raised it, when there appeared underneath a winding stair of stone. At this I wondered and descending, came to a fair chamber, spread with various kinds of carpets and hung with silken stuffs, where I saw the youth sitting alone upon a raised couch and leant upon a cushion, with a fan in his hand and sweet-scented flowers and herbs and fruits before him. When he saw me, he turned pale; but I saluted him, saying, "Calm thyself and put away fear; no harm shall come to thee: I am a man like unto thee and a king's son, whom Providence hath sent to bear thee company in thy solitude. But now tell me thy history and why thou dwellest underground by thyself." When he was assured that I was of his kind, he was glad and his colour returned; then he made me draw near to him and said, "O my brother, my story is a strange one, and it is as follows. My father is a merchant jeweller, possessed of great wealth and having black and white slaves, who make trading voyages, on his account, in ships and on camels, to the most distant countries; and he has dealings with kings. Until my birth, he had never been blessed with a child, but one night he dreamt that a son had been born to him, who lived but a short time, and awoke weeping and crying out. The following night my mother conceived and he took note of the date of her conception. The days of her pregnancy were accomplished and she gave birth to myself, whereupon my father rejoiced and made banquets and fed the poor and the needy for that I had been vouchsafed to him in his old age. Then he assembled the astrologers and mathematicians of the day and those learned in nativities and horoscopes; and they drew my horoscope and said to my father, 'Thy son will live till the age of fifteen, at which date there is a break[FN#40] in his line of life, which if he tide over in safety, he shall live long. The danger with which he is threatened is as follows. In the Sea of Peril stands a mountain called the Loadstone Mountain, on whose summit is a horseman of brass, seated on a horse of the same metal, with a tablet of lead on his breast. Fifty days after this horseman falls from his horse, thy son will die, and his slayer will be he who overthrows the statue, a king called Agib, son of Khesib.' My father was sore concerned at this prediction; but he brought me up and gave me a good education, till I attained my fifteenth year. Ten days ago, news came to him that the horseman had fallen into the sea and that he who overthrew him was Agib, son of King Khesib; whereat he was as one distraught and feared for my life. So he built me this place under the earth and stocking it with all that I need during the forty days that yet remain of the period of danger, transported me hither, that I might be safe from King Agib's hands. When the forty days are past, he will come back and fetch me; and this is my story and why thou findest me here alone." When I heard his story, I marvelled and said to myself, "I am that King Agib of whom he speaks; but, by Allah, I will assuredly not kill him!" And I said to him, "O my lord, God willing, thou shalt be spared suffering and death, nor shalt thou see trouble or sorrow or disquiet, for I will abide with thee and serve thee; and when I have borne thee company during the appointed days, I will go with thee to thy dwelling-place and thou shalt bring me to some of thy father's servants, with whom I may journey to my own country; and God shall requite thee for me." He rejoiced in my words and we sat conversing till nightfall when I rose and lighted a great wax candle and fed the lamps and set on meat and drink and sweetmeats. We ate and drank and sat talking till late into the night, when he lay down to sleep and I covered him up and went to sleep myself. Next morning, I rose and heated a little water, then woke him gently and brought him the warm water, with which he washed his face and thanked me, saying, "God requite thee with good, O youth! By Allah, if I escape from this my danger and from him they call Agib ben Khesib, I will make my father reward thee!" "May the day never come on which evil shall befall thee," answered I, "and may God appoint my last day before thine!" Then I set on food and we ate, and I made ready perfumes with which he scented himself. Moreover, I made him a backgammon board[FN#41], and we played and ate sweetmeats and played again till nightfall when I rose and lighting the lamps, set on food; and we ate and sat talking till the night was far spent. Then he lay down to sleep and I covered him up and went to sleep myself. Thus I did with him, day and night, and the love of him got hold upon my heart and I forgot my troubles and said to myself, "The astrologers lied; by Allah, I will not kill him!" I ceased not to serve him and bear him company and entertain him thus, till nine-and-thirty days were passed and we came to the morning of the fortieth day, when he rejoiced and said to me, "O my brother, the forty days are up to-day, praised be God who hath preserved me from death, and this by thy blessing and the blessing of thy coming to me, and I pray Him to restore thee to thy country! But now, O my brother, I prithee heat me some water, that I may wash my body and change my clothes." "With all my heart," answered I; and heated water in plenty and carrying it in to him, washed his body well with lupin-meal[FN#42] and rubbed him down and changed his clothes and spread him a high bed, on which he lay down to rest after the bath. Then said he, "O my brother, cut me a melon and sweeten it with sugar-candy." So I went to the closet and bringing a fine melon I found there on a platter, said to him, "O my lord, hast thou no knife?" "Here it is," answered he, "on the high shelf at my head." So I got up hurriedly and taking the knife, drew it from its sheath; but in stepping down backward, my foot slipped and I fell heavily on the youth, holding in my hand the knife, which hastened to fulfil that which was ordained and entered his heart, and he died forthright. When I saw that he was no more and that I had indeed killed him, I cried out grievously and buffeted my face and tore my clothes, saying, "We are God's and to Him we return! There remained for this youth but one day of the period of danger that the astrologers had foretold for him, and the death of this fair one was to be at my hand! Verily, my life is nought but disasters and afflictions! Would he had not asked me to cut the melon or would I had died before him! But what God decrees cometh to pass." When I was certain that there was no life left in him, I rose and ascending the stair, replaced the trap-door and covered it with earth. Then I looked out to sea and saw the ship cleaving the waters in the direction of the island. Whereat I was afeared and said, "They will be here anon and will find their son dead and know 'twas I killed him and will slay me without fail." So I climbed up into a high tree and hid myself among the leaves. Hardly had I done so, when the vessel came to an anchor and the slaves landed with the old man and made direct for the place, where they cleared away the earth and were surprised to find it soft.[FN#43] Then they raised the trap-door and going down, found the boy lying dead, clad in clean clothes, with his face shining from the bath and the knife sticking in his breast. At this sight, they shrieked aloud and wept and buffeted their faces and cried out, "Alas! woe worth the day!" whilst the old man swooned away and remained so long insensible, that the slaves thought he would not survive his son. So they wrapped the dead youth in his clothes and carried him up and laid him on the ground, covering him with a shroud of silk. Then they addressed themselves to transport all that was in the place to the ship, and presently the old man revived and coming up after them, saw his son laid out, whereupon he fell on the ground and strewed dust on his head and buffeted his face and tore his beard; and his weeping redoubled, as he hung over his dead son, till he swooned away again. After awhile the slaves came back, with a silken carpet, and laying the old man thereon, sat down at his head. All this time I was in the tree above them, watching them; and indeed my heart became hoary before my head, for all the grief and affliction I had undergone. The old man ceased not from his swoon till nigh upon sundown, when he came to himself and looking upon his dead son, recalled what had happened and how what he had feared had come to pass: and he buffeted his face and head and recited the following verses:

My heart is cleft in twain for severance of loves; The burning
     tears pour down in torrents from my eye.
My every wish with him I loved is fled away: What can I do or
     say? what help, what hope have I?
Would I had never looked upon his lovely face! Alas, the ways on
     me are straitened far and nigh!
What charm can bring me peace, what drink forgetfulness, Whilst
     in my heart the fire of love burns fierce and high?
Would that my feet had trod with him the road of death! Then
     should I not, as now, in lonely sorrow sigh.
O God, that art my hope, have pity upon me! Unite us twain, I
     crave, in Paradise for aye!
How blessed were we once, whilst one house held us both And
     twinned in pure content our happy lives passed by!
Till fortune aimed at us the shafts of severance And parted us;
     for who her arrows can defy?
For lo! the age's pearl, the darling of his folk, The mould of
     every grace, was singled out to die!
I call him back: "Would God thine hour had never come!" What
     while the case takes speech and doth forestall my cry.
Which is the speediest way to win to thee, my son! My soul had
     paid the price, if that thy life might buy.
The sun could not compare with him, for lo! it sets. Nor yet the
     moon that wanes and wasteth from the sky.
Alas, my grief for thee and my complaint of fate! None can
     console for thee nor aught thy place supply.
Thy sire is all distraught with languishment for thee; Since
     death upon thee came, his hopes are gone awry.
Surely, some foe hath cast an envious eye on us: May he who
     wrought this thing his just deserts aby!

Then he sobbed once and gave up the ghost; whereupon the slaves cried out, "Alas, our master!" and strewed dust on their heads and wept sore. Then they carried the two bodies to the ship and set sail. As soon as they were out of sight, I came down from the tree and raising the trap-door, went down into the underground dwelling, where the sight of some of the youth's gear recalled him to my mind, and I repeated the following verses:

I see their traces and pine for longing pain; My tears rain down
     on the empty dwelling-place!
And I pray to God, who willed that we should part, One day to
     grant us reunion, of His grace!

Then I went up again and spent the day in walking about the island, returning to the underground dwelling for the night. Thus I lived for a month, during which time I became aware that the sea was gradually receding day by day from the western side of the island, till by the end of the month, I found that the water was become low enough to afford a passage to the mainland. At this I rejoiced, making sure of delivery, and fording the little water that remained, made shift to reach the mainland, where I found great heaps of sand, in which even a camel would sink up to the knees. However, I took heart and making my way through the sand, espied something shining afar off, as it were a bright-blazing fire. So I made towards it, thinking to find succour and repeating the following verses:

It may be Fate at last shall draw its bridle-rein And bring me
     happy chance; for Fortune changes still;
And things shall happen yet, despite the things fordone, To
     further forth my hopes and bring me to my will.

When I drew near the supposed fire, behold, it was a palace, with a gate of brass, whereon, when the sun shone, it gleamed and glistened and showed from afar, as it were a fire. I rejoiced at the sight and sat down before the palace gate; but hardly had I done so, when there came up ten young men, sumptuously clad and all blind of the right eye. They were accompanied by an old man; and I marvelled at their appearance and at their being all blind of the same eye. They saluted me and questioned me of my condition, whereupon I told them all that had befallen me. They wondered at my story and carried me into the palace, where I saw ten couches, with beds and coverlets of blue stuff, ranged in a circle, with a like couch of smaller size in the midst. As we entered, each of the young men went up to his own couch, and the old man seated himself on the smaller one in the middle. Then said they unto me, "O youth, sit down on the ground and enquire not of our doings nor of the loss of our right eyes." Presently the old man rose and brought each one of the young men and myself his portion of meat and drink in separate vessels; and we sat talking, they questioning me of my adventures and I replying, till the night was far spent. Then said they to the old man, "O elder, wilt thou not bring us our ordinary? The time is come." "Willingly," answered he, and rose and entering a closet, disappeared and presently returned, bearing on his head ten dishes, each covered with a piece of blue stuff. He set a dish before each youth and lighting ten wax-candles, set one upon each dish; after which he uncovered the dishes, and lo, they were full of ashes and powdered charcoal and soot. Then all the young men tucked up their sleeves and fell to weeping and lamenting; and they blackened their faces and rent their clothes and buffeted their cheeks and beat their breasts, exclaiming "We were seated at our ease, but our impertinent curiosity would not let us be!" They ceased not to do thus till near daybreak, when the old man rose and heated water for them, and they washed their faces and put on fresh clothes. When I saw this, my senses left me for wonderment and my heart was troubled and my mind perplexed, for their strange behaviour, till I forgot what had befallen me and could not refrain from questioning them; so I said to them, "What makes you do thus, after our sport and merry-making together? Praised be God, ye are whole of wit, yet these are the doings of madmen! I conjure you, by all that is most precious to you, tell me why you behave thus and how ye came to lose each an eye!" At this, they turned to me and said, "O young man, let not thy youth beguile thee, but leave thy questioning." Then they slept and I with them, and when we awoke, the old man served up food; and after we had eaten and the vessels had been removed, we sat conversing till nightfall, when the old man rose and lit the candles and lamps and set meat and drink before us. We ate and sat talking and carousing till midnight, when they said to the old man, "Bring us our ordinary, for the hour of sleep is at hand." So he rose and brought them the dishes of soot and ashes, and they did as they had done on the preceding night. I abode with them on this wise for a month, during which time they blackened their faces every night, then washed them and changed their clothes and my trouble and amazement increased upon me till I could neither eat nor drink. At last, I lost patience and said to them, "O young men, if ye will not relieve my concern and acquaint me with the reason of your blackening your faces and the meaning of your words, 'We were seated at our ease, but our impertinent curiosity would not let us be,' let me leave you and return to my own people and be at rest from seeing these things, for as says the proverb,

'Twere wiser and better your presence to leave, For when the eye sees not, the heart does not grieve."

"O youth," answered they, "we have not concealed this thing from thee but in our concern for thee, lest what befell us before thee and thou become like unto us." "It avails not," said I; "you must tell me." "We give thee good advice," rejoined they; "do thou take it and leave questioning us of our case, or thou wilt become one-eyed like unto us." But I still persisted in my demand and they said, "O youth, if this thing befall thee, we warn thee that we will never again receive thee into our company nor let thee abide with us." Then they took a ram and slaughtering it, skinned it and gave me a knife, saying, "Lie down on the skin and we will sew thee up in it and leave thee and go away. Presently there will come to thee a bird called the roc[FN#44], that will catch thee up in its claws and fly away with thee and set thee down on a mountain. As soon as thou feelest it alight with thee, slit the skin with the knife and come forth; whereupon the bird will take fright at thee and fly away and leave thee. Then rise and fare on half a day's journey, till thou comest to a palace rising high into the air, builded of khelenj[FN#45] and aloes and sandal-wood and plated with red gold, inlaid with all manner emeralds and other jewels. There enter and thou wilt attain thy desire. We all have been in that place, and this is the cause of the loss of our right eyes and the reason why we blacken our faces. Were we to tell thee our stories, it would take too much time, for each lost his eye by a separate adventure." They then sewed me up in the skin and left me on the ground outside the palace; and the roc carried me off and set me down on the mountain. I cut open the skin and came out, whereupon the bird flew away and I walked on till I reached the palace. The door stood open; so I entered and found myself in a very wide and goodly hall, as big as a tilting-ground, round which were a hundred doors of sandal and aloes-wood, plated with red gold and furnished with rings of silver. At the upper end of the hall, I saw forty young ladies, sumptuously clad and adorned, as they were moons, one could never tire of gazing on them: and they all came up to me, saying, "Welcome and fair welcome, O my lord! This month past have we been expecting the like of thee; and praised be God who hath sent us one who is worthy of us and we of him!" Then they made me sit down on a high divan and said to me, "From to-day thou art our lord and master, and we are thy handmaids; so order us as thou wilt." And I marvelled at their case. Presently one of them arose and set food before me, and I ate, whilst others heated water and washed my hands and feet and changed my clothes, and yet others made ready sherbets and gave me to drink; and they were all full of joy and delight at my coming. Then they sat down and conversed with me till nightfall, when five of them arose and spreading a mat, covered it with flowers and fruits and confections in profusion and set on wine; and we sat down to drink, while some of them sang and others played the lute and psaltery and recorders and other instruments. So the cup went round amongst us and such gladness possessed me that I forgot all the cares of the world and said, "This is indeed life, but that it is fleeting." We ceased not to drink and make merry till the night was far spent and we were warm with wine, when they said to me, "O our lord, choose from amongst us one who shall be thy bedfellow this night and not lie with thee again till forty days be past." So I chose a girl fair of face, with liquid black eyes and jetty hair, slightly parted teeth[FN#46] and joining eyebrows, perfect in shape and form, as she were a palm-sapling or a stalk of sweet basil; such an one as troubles the heart and bewilders the wit, even as saith of her the poet:

'Twere vain to liken her unto the tender branch, And out on who
     compares her form to the gazelle!
Whence should gazelles indeed her shape's perfection get Or yet
     her honeyed lips so sweet to taste and smell,
Or those great eyes of hers, so dire to those who love, That bind
     their victims fast in passion's fatal spell?
I dote on her with all the folly of a child. What wonder if he
     turn a child who loves too well!

And I repeated to her the following verses:

My eyes to gaze on aught but thy grace disdain And none but thou
     in my thought shall ever reign.
The love of thee is my sole concern, my fair; In love of thee, I
     will die and rise again.

So I lay with her that night, never knew I a fairer, and when it was morning, the ladies carried me to the bath and washed me and clad me in rich clothes. Then they served up food and we ate and drank, and the cup went round amongst us till the night, when I chose from among them one who was fair to look upon and soft of sides, such an one as the poet describes, when he says:

I saw upon her breast two caskets snowy-white, Musk-sealed; she
     doth forbid to lovers their delight.
She guards them with the darts that glitter from her eyes; And
     those who would them press, her arrowy glances smite.

I passed a most delightful night with her; and to make a long story short, I led the goodliest life with them, eating and drinking and carousing and every night taking one or other of them to my bed, for a whole year, at the end of which time they came in to me in tears and fell to bidding me farewell and clinging to me, weeping and crying out; whereat I marvelled and said to them, "What ails you? Indeed you break my heart." "Would we had never known thee!" answered they. "We have companied with many men, but never saw we a pleasanter or more courteous than thou: and now we must part from thee. Yet it rests with thee to see us again, and if thou hearken to us, we need never be parted: but our hearts forebode us that thou will not hearken to us; and this is the cause of our weeping" "Tell me how the case stands," said I; and they answered, "Know that we are the daughters of kings, who have lived here together for years past, and once in every year we are absent for forty days; then we return and abide here for the rest of the year, eating and drinking and making merry. We are now about to depart according to our custom, and we fear lest thou disobey our injunctions in our absence, in which case we shall never see thee again; but if thou do as we bid thee, all will yet be well. Take these keys: they are those of the hundred apartments of the palace, each of which contains what will suffice thee for a day's entertainment. Ninety-and-nine of these thou mayst open and take thy pleasure therein, but beware lest thou open the hundredth, that which has a door of red gold; for therein is that which will bring about a separation between us and thee." Quoth I, "I will assuredly not open the hundredth door, if therein be separation from you." Then one of them came up to me and embraced me and repeated the following verses:

If but the days once more our severed loves unite, If but my eyes
     once more be gladdened by thy sight,
Then shall the face of Time smile after many a frown, And I will
     pardon Fate for all its past despite.

And I repeated the following:

When she drew near to bid farewell, upon our parting day, Whilst
     on her heart the double stroke of love and longing smote,
She wept pure pearls, and eke mine eyes did rain cornelians
     forth; And lo, they all combined and made a necklace for her
     throat!

When I saw her weeping, I said, "By Allah, I will never open the hundredth door!" Then they bade me farewell and departed, leaving me alone in the palace. When the evening drew near, I opened the first door and found myself in an orchard, full of blooming trees, laden with ripe fruit, and the air resounded with the loud singing of birds and the ripple of running waters. The sight brought solace to my soul, and I entered and walked among the trees, inhaling the odours of the flowers and listening to the warble of the birds, that sang the praises of God the One, the Almighty. I looked upon the apple, whose colour is parcel red and parcel yellow, as says the poet:

The apple in itself two colours doth unite, The loved one's cheek
     of red, and yellow of despite.

Then I looked upon the quince and inhaled its fragrance that puts musk and ambergris to shame, even as says the poet:

The quince contains all pleasant things that can delight mankind,
     Wherefore above all fruits that be its virtues are renowned.
Its taste is as the taste of wine, its breath the scent of musk;
     Its hue is that of virgin gold, its shape the full moon's
     round.

Thence I passed to the pear, whose taste surpasses rose-water and sugar, and the plum, whose beauty delights the eye, as it were a polished ruby. When I had taken my fill of looking on the place, I went and locked the door again. Next day, I opened the second door and found myself in a great pleasaunce, set with many palm-trees and watered by a running stream, whose borders were decked with bushes of rose and jessamine and henna[FN#47] and camomile and marjoram and sweetbriar and carpeted with narcissus and ox-eye and violets and lilies and gillyflowers. The breeze fluttered over all these sweet-smelling plants and scattered their scents right and left, possessing me with complete delight. I took my pleasure in the place awhile, and my chagrin was somewhat lightened. Then I went out and locked the door and opening the third door, found therein a great hall paved with vari-coloured marbles and other precious stones and hung with cages of sandal and aloes wood, full of singing-birds, such as the thousand-voiced nightingale[FN#48] and the cushat and the blackbird and the turtle-dove and the Nubian warbler. My heart was ravished by the song of the birds and I forgot my cares and slept in the aviary till the morning. Then I opened the fourth door and saw a great hall, with forty cabinets ranged on either side. The doors of the latter stood open; so I entered and found them full of pearls and rubies and chrysolites and beryls and emeralds and corals and carbuncles and all manner of precious stones and jewels of gold and silver, such as the tongue fails to describe. I was amazed at what I saw and said in myself "Methinks, if all the kings of the earth joined together they could not produce the like of these treasures!" And my heart dilated and I exclaimed, "Now am I king of my time, for all these riches are mine by the favour of God, and I have forty young ladies under my hand, nor is there any with them but myself!" In short, I passed nine-and-thirty days after this fashion, exploring the riches of the place, till I had opened all the doors, except that which the princesses had charged me not to open, but my thoughts ran ever on this latter and Satan urged me, for my ruin, to open it, nor had I patience to forbear; though there remained but one day of the appointed time. So I opened the hundredth door, that which was plated with red gold, and was met by a perfume, whose like I had never before smelt and which was of so subtle and penetrating a quality, that it invaded my head and I fell down, as if intoxicated, and lay awhile unconscious. Then I revived and took heart and entering, found myself in a place strewn with saffron and blazing with light shed by lamps of gold and candles, that diffused a scent of musk and aloes. In the midst stood two great censers, full of burning aloes wood and ambergris and other perfumes, and the place was full of their fragrance. Presently I espied a horse, black as night at its darkest, girt and bridled and saddled with red gold, standing before two mangers of white crystal, one full of winnowed sesame and the other of rose-water flavoured with musk. When I saw this, I was amazed and said to myself, "Surely this horse must be of extraordinary value!" and the devil tempted me, so that I took him out and mounted him, but he would not stir. So I spurred him with my heel, but he did not move; and I took a. switch and struck him with it. When he felt the blow, he gave a neigh like the roaring thunder, and spreading a pair of wings flew up with me high into the air. After awhile, he descended and set me down on the terrace of a palace; then, shaking me off his back, he smote me on the face with his tail and struck out my right eye and flew away, leaving me there. I went down into the palace and found myself again among the ten one-eyed youths, who exclaimed, when they saw me, "An ill welcome to thee!" Quoth I, "Behold, I am become like unto you, and now I would have you give me a dish of soot, that I may blacken my face and admit me to your company." "By Allah," answered they, "thou shalt not abide with us! Depart hence!" And they drove me away. I was grieved at their rejection of me and went out from them, mourning-hearted and tearful-eyed, saying to myself, "Of a truth, I was sitting at my ease, but my impertinent curiosity would not let me be." Then I shaved my beard and eyebrows and renouncing the world, became a Calender and wandered about God's earth, till by His blessing, I arrived at Baghdad in safety this evening and met with these two other Calenders standing bewildered. So I saluted them, saying, "I am a stranger;" to which they replied, "We also are strangers." And, as it chanced, we were all Calenders and each blind of the right eye. This, then, O my lady, is my story and the manner of the shaving of my face and the loss of my eye.' Quoth the mistress of the house, 'Begone about thy business.' But he said, 'By Allah, I will not go, till I hear the others' stories!' Then she turned to the Khalif and his companions and said, 'Give me an account of yourselves.' So Jaafer came forward and repeated the story he had told the portress; whereupon the lady said, 'I pardon you all: go your ways.' So they all went out; and when they reached the street the Khalif said to the Calenders, 'O folk, whither are you bound now, seeing that it is not yet day?' 'By Allah, O my lord,' answered they, 'we know not where to go!' 'Then come and pass the rest of the night with us,' said the Khalif, and turning to Jaafer, said to him, 'Take them home with thee and to-morrow bring them before me, that we may cause their adventures to be recorded.' Jaafer did as the Khalif bade him, and the latter returned to his palace. Sleep did not visit him that night, but he lay awake, pondering the adventures of the three Calenders and full of impatience to know the history of the two ladies and the black bitches; and no sooner had the day dawned than he went out and sat down on his chair of estate. Then his courtiers presented themselves and withdrew, whereupon he turned to Jaafer and said to him, 'Bring me the three ladies and the bitches and the Calenders, and make haste.' So Jaafer went out and brought them all before him and seated the ladies behind a curtain; then turned to them and said, speaking for the Khalif, 'O women, we pardon you your rough usage of us, in consideration of your previous kindness and for that ye knew us not: and now I would have you to know that you are in the presence of the fifth of the sons of Abbas, the Commander of the Faithful Haroun er Reshid, son of El Mehdi Mohammed, son of Abou Jaafer el Mensour. So do ye acquaint him with your stories and tell him nothing but the truth.' When the ladies heard Jaafer's speech, the eldest came forward and said, 'O Commander of the Faithful, my story is one which, were it graven with needles on the corners of the eye, would serve for an example to those who can profit by example and a warning to those who can take warning. And it is that

The Eldest Lady's Story.

These two bitches are my elder sisters by the same mother and father, and these two others, she on whom are the marks of blows and the cateress, are my sisters by another mother. When my father died, each took her portion of the heritage, and after awhile my mother died also and left me and my sisters-german a thousand dinars each. After awhile my two sisters married and lived with their husbands for a time; then the latter bought merchandise with their wives' money and set out on their travels, and I heard no more of them for five years: for their husbands spent their wives' fortunes and became bankrupt and deserted them in a foreign land. Presently, my eldest sister came back to me in the guise of a beggar, with tattered clothes and a dirty old veil, and altogether in so sorry a plight, that at first I knew her not; but when I recognised her, I asked her how she came in such a state. "O my sister," answered she, "talking profits not now: the pen[FN#49] hath written what was decreed." Then I sent her to the bath and clothed her in a suit of my own and entreated her kindly and said to her, "O my sister, thou standest to me in the stead of my father and mother; and God has blessed me in the share of the inheritance that fell to me and prospered it to me, so that I am now in flourishing case; and thou shalt share with me in my increase." So she abode with me a whole year, during which time we were much concerned to know what was become of our other sister. At last, she too came back to me, in a worse plight than the other, and I dealt still more kindly by her than by the first, and each of them had a share of my substance. After awhile, they said to me, "O sister, we desire to marry again, for we can no longer endure to live without husbands." "O my dear ones[FN#50]," answered I, "there is no good in marriage, for now-a-days good men are rare to find; nor do I see the advantage of marrying again, since ye have already made trial of matrimony and it has profited you nothing." They would not listen to me, but married without my consent; nevertheless I equipped them and portioned them with my own money and they went away with their husbands. After a little, the latter cheated them of all they had and went away and left them. Then they came to me, in abject case, and made their excuses to me, saying, "Do not reproach us; thou art younger than we, but riper of wit, so take us as thy handmaids, that we may eat our mouthful; and we will never again speak of marriage." Quoth I, "Ye are welcome, O my sisters: there is nothing dearer to me than you." And I took them in and redoubled in kindness to them. We lived thus for a whole year, at the end of which time I was minded to travel. So I fitted out a great ship at Bassora and loaded her with merchandise and victual and other necessaries for a voyage, and said to my sisters, "Will you come with me or abide at home till I return?" "We will go with thee," answered they, "for we cannot endure to be parted from thee." So I took them and set sail, after dividing my money into two parts, one of which I deposited with a trusty person, saying, "Maybe ill-hap shall betide the ship and yet we remain alive; but now, if we return, we shall find what will be of service to us." We sailed days and nights, till the captain missed the true course and the ship went astray with us and entered a sea other than that we aimed at. We knew not of this awhile and the wind blew fair for us ten days, at the end of which time, the watch went up to the mast-head, to look out, and cried, "Good news!" Then he came down, rejoicing, and said to us, "I see a city in the distance as it were a dove." At this we rejoiced and before an hour of the day was past, the city appeared to us afar off: and we said to the captain, "What is the name of yonder city?" "By Allah!" replied he, "I know not, for I never saw it before nor have I ever sailed this sea in my life; but since the affair has issued in safety, ye have nought to do but to land your goods, and if ye find a market, sell and buy and barter, as the occasion serves; if not, we will rest here two days, re-victual and depart." So we entered the harbour and the captain landed and was absent awhile, after which he returned and said to us, "Arise, go up into the city and marvel at God's dealings with His creatures and seek to be preserved from His wrath." So we landed and going up to the city, saw at the gate men with staves in their hands; but when we drew near them, behold, they had been stricken by the wrath of God and were become stones. Then we entered the city and found all its in habitants changed into black stones: there was not a living soul therein, no, not a blower of the fire. At this we were amazed and passed on through the bazaars, where we found all the goods and gold and silver left lying in their places, and rejoiced and said, "Doubtless, there is some mystery in all this." Then we dispersed about the streets of the city and each busied himself with making prize of the wealth and stuffs lying about and took no heed of his comrades, whilst I went up to the citadel and found it goodly of fashion. I entered the king's palace and saw all the vessels of gold and silver and the king himself seated in the midst of his officers and grandees, clad in raiment such as confounded the wit. The throne on which he sat was encrusted with pearls and jewels and his robes were of cloth of gold, adorned with all manner jewels, that shone like stars. Around him stood fifty white slaves, with drawn swords in their hands and clad in divers sorts of silken stuffs; but when I drew near to them, behold, they were all black stones. My understanding was confounded at the sight, but I went on and came to the saloon of the harem, which I found hung with tapestries of gold-striped silk and spread with carpets of the same, embroidered with flowers of gold. Here I saw the queen lying, arrayed in a robe covered with fresh pearls as big as hazel-nuts and crowned with a diadem set with all manner jewels. Her neck was covered with collars and necklaces and all her clothes and ornaments were unchanged, but she herself had been smitten of God and was become black stone. Presently I spied an open door, with seven steps leading to it, and going up, found myself in a place paved with marble and hung and carpeted with gold-embroidered stuffs. At the upper end stood an alcove with drawn curtains and I saw a light issuing thence. So I went up to the alcove and found therein a couch of juniper wood, inlaid with pearls and diamonds and set with bosses of emeralds, with silken coverings of bewildering richness and curtains of the same, looped up with pearls. At the head of the bed stood two lighted candles and in the midst of the alcove was a little stool, on which lay a jewel, the size of a goose's egg, that shone like a lamp and lighted the whole place; but there was no one to be seen. When I saw these things, I wondered and said, "Some one must have lighted these candles." Then I went out and came to the kitchen and thence to the buttery and the king's treasuries and continued to explore the palace and to go from place to place; and for wonderment at what I saw, I forgot myself and wandered on, lost in thought, till the night overtook me. Then I would have gone out, but lost my way and could not find the gate; so I returned to the alcove, where I lay down on the bed and covering myself with a quilt, repeated somewhat of the Koran and would have slept, but could not, for restlessness possessed me. In the middle of the night, I heard a low sweet voice reciting the Koran, whereat I rejoiced and rising, followed the sound, till it led me to a chamber with the door ajar. I looked through the chink of the door and saw an oratory, wherein was a prayer-niche[FN#51], with candles burning and lamps hanging from the ceiling. In the midst was spread a prayer-carpet, on which sat a handsome youth, with a copy of the Koran open before him, from which he was reading. I wondered to see him alone alive of all the people of the city and entered and saluted him; whereupon he raised his eyes and returned my salutation. Then said I, "I implore thee, by the truth of that thou readest from the book of God, to answer me my questions." He looked at me with a smile and said, "O handmaid of God, tell me first how thou camest hither, and I will tell thee what has befallen me and the people of this city and the manner of my preservation." So I told him my story, at which he marvelled, and questioned him of the people of the city. Quoth he, "Have patience with me a little, O my sister!" and shutting the Koran, laid it in a bag of satin. Then he made me sit down by his side, and I looked at him and behold, he was like the moon at its full, bright-faced, soft-sided, well-shaped and fair to look upon, as he were a figure of sugar,[FN#52] even as says the poet of the like of him:

A seer of the stars one night was reading the book of the skies,
     When lo, in his scroll he saw a lovely youth arise.
Saturn had dyed his hair the hue of the raven's wing And
     sprinkled upon his face the musk of Paradise[FN#53]:
The rose of his cheeks from Mars its ruddy colour drew, And the
     Archer winged the shafts that darted from his eyes.
Hermes dowered the youth with his own mercurial wit, And the
     Great Bear warded off the baleful glance of spies.
Wonder seized on the sage at the sight of the lovely boy, For the
     full moon kissed the earth before him, servant-wise.
And indeed God the Most High had clad him in the garment of
     perfection and broidered it with the shining fringes of his
     cheeks, even as says the poet of him:
By the perfume of his eyelids and his slender waist I swear, By
     the arrows that he feathers with the witchery of his air,
By his sides so soft and tender and his glances bright and keen,
     By the whiteness of his forehead and the blackness of his
     hair,
By his arched imperious eyebrows, chasing slumber from my eyes,
     With their yeas and noes that hold me 'twixt rejoicing and
     despair,
By the myrtle of his whiskers and the roses of his cheeks, By his
     lips' incarnate rubies and his teeth's fine pearls and rare,
By his neck and by its beauty, by the softness of his breast And
     the pair of twin pomegranates that my eyes discover there,
By his heavy hips that tremble, both in motion and repose, And
     the slender waist above them, all too slim their weight to
     bear,
By his skin's unsullied satin and the quickness of his spright,
     By the matchless combination in his form of all things fair,
By his hand's perennial bounty and his true and trusty speech, By
     the stars that smile upon him, favouring and debonair,
Lo, the smell of musk none other than his very fragrance is, And
     the ambergris's perfume breathes around him everywhere.
Yea, the sun in all its splendour cannot with his grace compare,
     Seeming but a shining fragment that he from his nail doth
     pare.

I stole a look at him, which cost me a thousand sighs, for my heart was taken with his love, and I said to him, "O my lord, tell me what I asked thee." "I hear and obey," answered he. "Know, O handmaid of God, that this city was the capital of my father, who is the king thou sawest on the throne, changed to a black stone, and as for the queen on the bed, she was my mother; and they and all the people of the city were Magians, worshipping the fire, instead of the All-powerful King, and swearing by the fire and the light and the shade and the heat and the revolving sphere. My father had no child, till I was vouchsafed to him in his old age, and he reared me and I grew up and flourished. Now, as my good star would have it, there was with us an old woman stricken in years, who was at heart a Muslim, believing in God and His prophet, but conforming outwardly to the religion of my people. My father had confidence in her, supposing her to be of his own belief, and showed her exceeding favour, for that he knew her to be trusty and virtuous; so when I grew to a fitting age, he committed me to her charge, saying, 'Take him and do thy best to give him a good education and teach him the things of our faith.' So she took me and taught me the tenets of Islam and the ordinances of ablution and prayer and made me learn the Koran by heart, bidding me worship none but God the Most High and charging me to keep my faith secret from my father, lest he should kill me. So I hid it from him, and I abode thus till, in a little while, the old woman died and the people of the city redoubled in their impiety and frowardness and in the error of their ways. One day, they heard a voice from on high, proclaiming aloud, with a noise like the resounding thunder, so that all heard it far and near, and saying, 'O people of the city, turn from your worship of the fire and serve God the Compassionate King!' At this, fear fell on the people of the city and they crowded to my father and said to him; 'What is this awful voice that we have heard and that has confounded us with the excess of its terror?' But he said, 'Let not a voice fright you nor turn you from your faith.' Their hearts inclined to his word and they ceased not to worship the fire, but redoubled in their frowardness, till the anniversary of the day on which they had heard the supernatural voice. When they heard it anew, and so again a third time at the end of the second year. Still they persisted in their evil ways, till one day, at break of dawn, judgment descended on them and wrath from heaven, and they were all turned into black stones, they and their beasts and cattle; and none was spared, save myself. From that day to this, I have remained as thou seest me, occupying myself with prayer and fasting and reading the Koran aloud; and indeed I am grown weary of solitude, having none to bear me company." Then said I to him (and indeed he had won my heart), "O youth, wilt thou go with me to the city of Baghdad and foregather with men of learning and theologians and grow in wisdom and understanding and knowledge of the Law? If so, I will be thy handmaid, albeit I am head of my family and mistress over men and slaves and servants. I have here a ship laden with merchandise; and indeed it was providence drove us to this city, that I might come to the knowledge of these things, for it was fated that we should meet." And I ceased not to speak him fair and persuade him, till he consented to go with me, and I passed the night at his feet, beside myself for joy. When it was day, we repaired to the treasuries and took thence what was little of weight and great of value; then went down into the town, where we met the slaves and the captain seeking for me. When they saw me, they rejoiced and I told them all I had seen and related to them the story of the young man and of the curse that had fallen on the people of the city. At this they wondered: but when my sisters saw me with the prince, they envied me on his account and were enraged and plotted mischief against me in their hearts. Then we took ship again, beside ourselves for joy in the booty we had gotten, though the most of my joy was in the prince, and waited till the wind blew fair for us, when we set sail and departed. As we sat talking, my sisters said to me, "O sister, what wilt thou do with this handsome young man?" "I purpose to make him my husband," answered I; and I turned to the prince and said, "O my lord, I have that to propose to thee, in which I will not have thee cross me: and it is that, when we reach Baghdad, I will give myself to thee as a handmaid in the way of marriage, and thou shalt be my husband and I thy wife." Quoth he, "I hear and obey; thou art my lady and my mistress, and whatever thou dost, I will not cross thee." Then I turned to my sisters and said to them, "This young man suffices me; and those who have gotten aught, it is theirs." "Thou sayest well," replied they; but in their hearts they purposed me evil. We sailed on with a fair wind, till we left the sea of peril and came into safe waters, and in a few days, we came in sight of the walls of Bassora, even as night overtook us. My sisters waited till the prince and I were asleep, when they took us up, bed and all, and threw us into the sea. The prince, who could not swim, was drowned and God wrote him of the company of the martyrs. As for me, would I had been drowned with him! But God decreed that I should be of the saved; so He threw in my way a piece of wood and I got astride of it, and the waters tossed me about till they cast me up on an island. I landed and walked about the island the rest of the night, and when the day broke, I saw a footway, leading to the mainland. By this time, the sun had risen; so I dried my clothes in its rays and ate of the fruits of the island and drank of its waters. Then I set out and fared on till I reached the mainland and found myself but two hours' distant from the city. So I sat down to rest and presently I saw a great serpent, the bigness of a palm-tree, come fleeing towards me, with all her might, whilst her tongue for weariness hung from her mouth a span's length and swept the dust as she went. She was pursued by a dragon, as long and thin as a spear, which presently overtook her and seized her by the tail whereat the tears streamed from her eyes and she wriggled from side to side. I took pity on her and catching up a stone, threw it at the dragon's head and killed him on the spot. Then the serpent spread a pair of wings and flew away out of sight, leaving me wondering. Now I was tired and drowsiness overcoming me, I slept where I was for awhile. When I awoke, I found a damsel sitting at my feet, rubbing them, and with her, two black bitches, and I was ashamed before her; so I sat up and said to her, "O my sister, who art thou?" "How quickly thou hast forgotten me!" answered she. "I am the serpent, whom thou didst deliver from my enemy by killing him, for I am a Jinniyeh[FN#54] and the dragon was a genie; and I was only saved from him by thy kindness. As soon as thou hadst done me this service, I flew on the wind to your ship and transported all that was therein to thy house. Then I sank the vessel and changed thy sisters into two black bitches, for I know all that has passed between thee and them: but as for the young man, he is drowned." So saying, she flew up with me and the two bitches and presently set us down on the roof of my house, where I found all the goods that were in my ship, nor was aught missing. Then she said to me, "By that which is written on the seal of our lord Solomon (on whom be peace!) except thou give each of these bitches three hundred lashes every day, I will come and make thee like unto them." "I hear and obey," answered I; and since then I have never failed to beat them thus, O Commander of the Faithful, pitying them the while; and they know it is no fault of mine that they are beaten and accept my excuse. And this is my story.' The Khalif marvelled at her story and said to the portress, 'And thou, how camest thou by the weals on thy body?' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered she:

Story of the Portress.

'My father died and left me great wealth, and soon after his death I married one of the richest men of Baghdad. At the end of a year he too died and I inherited from him fourscore thousand dinars, being my lawful share of his property; so that I became passing rich and the report of my wealth spread abroad, for I got me half a score suits of clothes, each worth a thousand dinars. One day, as I was sitting alone, there came in to me an old woman with sunken cheeks and worn eyebrows, bleared eyes and broken teeth, blotched face and bald head, grizzled hair and bent and mangy body, running nose and sallow complexion, even as says the poet of the like of her:

A right pernicious hag! Unshriven be her sins, Nor let her mercy
     find what time she comes to die!
So full of wile she is, that with a single thread Of spider's
     silk she'd curb a thousand mules that shy.

She saluted me and kissing the ground before me, said, "I have an orphan daughter whose wedding and unveiling[FN#55] I celebrate to-night. We are strangers in the city and know none of its inhabitants, and verily our hearts are broken so do thou earn through us a recompense and reward in the world to come by being present at her unveiling. When the ladies of the city hear that thou art to be present, they also will attend, and so wilt thou bring healing to her spirit, for now she is broken-hearted and has none to look to but God the Most High." Then she wept and kissed my feet, repeating the following verses:

Thy presence honoureth us, and we Confess thy magnanimity: If thou forsake us, there is none Can stand to us in stead of thee.

I was moved to pity for her and said, "I hear and obey; and God willing, I will do more than this for her, for she shall not be unveiled but in my clothes and ornaments and jewellery." At this the old woman rejoiced and fell at my feet and kissed them, saying, "God requite thee with good and gladden thy heart as thou hast gladdened mine! But, O my lady, do not trouble thyself now, but be ready against the evening, when I will come and fetch thee." So saying, she kissed my hand and went away, whilst I attired myself and made my preparations. At the appointed time, the old woman returned, smiling, and kissed my hand, saying, "O my mistress, the most part of the ladies of the city are assembled; and I told them that thou hadst promised to be present, whereat they rejoiced and they are now awaiting thee and are looking eagerly for thy coming." So I veiled myself and taking my serving-maids with me, followed the old woman, till we came to a street swept and watered, through which blew a pleasant breeze. Here she stopped at a handsome portico vaulted with marble and leading to a palace that rose from the ground and took hold upon the clouds. The gateway was hung with a black curtain and lighted by a lamp of gold curiously wrought; and on the door were written the following verses:

I am a dwelling, builded for delight; My time is still for
     joyance day and night.
Right in my midst a springing fountain wells, Whose waters banish
     anguish and despite,
Whose marge with rose, narcissus, camomile, Anemone and myrtle,
     is bedight.

The old woman knocked at the gate, which opened; and we entered a carpeted vestibule hung with lighted lamps and candles and adorned with pendants of precious stones and minerals. Through this we passed into a saloon, whose like is not to be found in the world, hung and carpeted with silken stuffs and lighted by hanging lamps and wax candles in rows. At the upper end stood a couch of juniper-wood, set with pearls and jewels and canopied with curtains of satin, looped up with pearls. Hardly had I taken note of all this, when there came out from the alcove a young lady more perfect than the moon at its full, with a forehead brilliant as the morning, when it shines forth, even as says the poet:

Upon the imperial necks she walks, a loveling bright, For
     bride-chambers of kings and emperors bedight.
The blossom of her cheek is red as dragon's blood, And all her
     face is flowered with roses red and white.
Slender and sleepy-eyed and languorous of gait, All manner
     loveliness is in her sweetest sight.
The locks upon her brow are like a troubled night, From out of
     which there shines a morning of delight.

She came down from the dais and said to me, "Welcome, a thousand times welcome to the dear and illustrious sister!" and she recited the following verses:

If the house knew who visits it, it would indeed rejoice And
     stoop to kiss the happy place whereon her feet have stood;
And in the voice with which the case, though mute, yet speaks,
     exclaim, "Welcome and many a welcome to the generous and
     good!"

Then she sat down and said to me, "O my sister, I have a brother, who is handsomer than I; and he saw thee at certain festivals and assemblies and fell passionately in love with thee, for that thou art possessed of beauty and grace beyond thy share. He heard that thou wast thine own mistress, even as he also is the head of his family, and wished to make thine acquaintance; wherefore he used this device to bring thee in company with me; for he desires to marry thee according to the law of God and His prophet, and there is no shame in what is lawful." When I heard what she said, I bethought me that I was fairly entrapped and answered, "I hear and obey." At this she was glad and clapped her hands, whereupon a door opened and out came the handsomest of young men, elegantly dressed and perfect in beauty and symmetry and winning grace, with eyebrows like a bended bow and eyes that ravished hearts with lawful enchantments, even as says a poet, describing the like of him:

His face is like unto the new moon's face With signs[FN#56], like pearls, of fortune and of grace.

And God bless him who said:

He hath indeed been blest with beauty and with grace, And blest
     be He who shaped and fashioned forth his face!
All rarest charms that be unite to make him fair, His witching
     loveliness distracts the human race.
Beauty itself hath set these words upon his brow, "Except this
     youth there's none that's fair in any place."

When I looked at him, my heart inclined to him and I loved him; and he sat down by me and talked with me awhile. Presently the young lady clapped her hands a second time, and behold, a side door opened and there came out a Cadi and four witnesses, who saluted and sitting down, drew up the contract of marriage between me and the young man and retired. Then he turned to me and said, "May our night be blessed! O my mistress, I have a condition to lay on thee." Quoth I, "O my lord, what is it?" Whereupon he rose and fetching a copy of the Koran, said to me, "Swear to me that thou wilt never look upon another man than myself, nor incline to him." I did as he wished and he rejoiced with an exceeding joy and embraced me and my whole heart was taken with love of him. Presently they set food before us and we ate and drank, till we were satisfied and night closed in upon us. Then he took me and went to bed with me and ceased not to kiss and embrace me till the morning. I lived with him in all delight and happiness for a month, at the end of which time I asked his leave to go to the bazaar to buy certain stuffs that I wanted, and he gave me leave. So I veiled myself and taking with me the old woman and a serving-maid, went to the bazaar, where I sat down in the shop of a young merchant, whom the old woman knew and had recommended to me, saying, "The father of this young man died, when he was a boy, and left him great wealth: he has great store of goods, and thou wilt find what thou seekest with him, for none in the bazaar has finer stuffs than he." So she said to him, "Show this lady thy finest stuffs." And he answered, "I hear and obey." Then she began to sound his praises; but I said, "I have no concern with thy praises of him; all I want is to buy what I need of him and return home." So he brought me what I sought, and I offered him the price, but he refused to take it, saying, "It is a guest-gift to thee on the occasion of thy visit to me this day." Then I said to the old woman, "If he will not take the money, give him back the stuff." "By Allah!" said he, "I will take nothing from thee! I make thee a present of it all, in return for one kiss; for that is more precious to me than all that is in my shop." Quoth the old woman, "What will a kiss profit thee?" Then she said to me, "O my daughter, thou hearest what this young man says. What harm will it do thee, if he take from thee a kiss and thou get the stuffs for nothing?" "Dost thou not know," answered I, "that I am bound by an oath?" But she said, "Hold thy tongue and let him kiss thee, and thou shalt keep thy money and no harm shall betide thee." And she ceased not to persuade me till I put my head into the noose and consented. So I veiled my eyes and held up the edge of my veil between me and the street, that the passers-by might not see me; and he put his mouth to my cheek under the veil. But, instead of kissing me, he bit me so hard that he tore the flesh of my cheek, and I swooned away. The old woman took me in her arms and when I came to myself, I found the shop shut up and her lamenting over me and saying, "Thank God it was no worse!" Then she said to me, "Come, take courage and let us go home, lest the thing get wind and thou be disgraced. When thou returnest, do thou feign sickness and lie down and cover thyself up, and I will bring thee a remedy that will soon heal the wound." So, after awhile, I arose, full of fear and anxiety, and went little by little, till I came to the house, where I lay down and gave out that I was ill. When it was night, my husband came in to me and said, "O my lady, what has befallen thee in this excursion?" Quoth I, "I am not well: I have a pain in my head." Then he lighted a candle and drew near and looked at me and said, "What is that wound on thy cheek, in the soft part?" Said I, "When I went out to-day to buy stuffs, with thy leave, a camel laden with firewood jostled me and the end of one of the pieces of wood tore my veil and wounded my cheek, as thou seest; for indeed the ways are strait in this city." "To-morrow," rejoined he, "I will go to the governor and speak to him, that he may hang every firewood-seller in the city." "God on thee," cried I, "do not burden thy conscience with such a sin against any one! The truth is that I was riding on an ass, and it stumbled and threw me down, and my cheek fell on a piece of glass, which wounded it." "Then," said he, "to morrow I will go to Jaafer the Barmecide and tell him the case, and he will kill every ass in the city." "Wilt thou ruin all the folk on my account," said I, "when this that befell me was decreed of God?" "There is no help for it," answered he, and springing to his feet, plied me with questions and pressed me, till I was frightened and stammered in my speech, so that he guessed how the case stood and exclaimed, "Thou hast been false to thine oath!" Then he gave a great cry, whereupon a door opened and in came seven black slaves, whom he commanded to drag me from my bed and throw me down in the middle of the room. Moreover, he made one take me by the shoulders and sit upon my head and another sit on my knees and hold my feet and giving a third a naked sword, said to him, "Strike her, O Saad, and cut her in twain and let each take half and throw it into the Tigris that the fish may eat her, for this is the reward of her who breaks her oath and is unfaithful to her love." And he redoubled in wrath and repeated the following verses:

If any other share with me in her whom I adore, I'll root out
     passion from my heart, though longing me destroy;
And I will say unto my soul, "Death is the better part;" For love
     is naught that men with me in common do enjoy.

Then he said to the slave, "Smite her, O Saad!" Whereupon the latter bent down to me and said, "O my lady, repeat the profession of the faith and tell us if there be aught thou wouldst have done, for thy last hour is come." "O good slave," said I, "grant me a little respite, that I may give thee my last injunctions." Then I raised my head and considered my case and how I had fallen from high estate into abjection; wherefore the tears streamed from my eyes and I wept passing sore. He looked at me with angry eyes and repeated the following

Say unto her who wronged us, on whom our kisses tire, Her that
     hath chosen another for darling of desire,
Lo, we will spurn thee from us, before thou cast us off! That
     which is past between us suffices to our ire.

When I heard this, I wept and looked at him and repeated the following verses:

You doom my banishment from love and all unmoved remain; You rob
     my wounded lids of rest and sleep whilst I complain.
You make mine eyes familiar with watching and unrest; Yet can my
     heart forget you not, nor eyes from tears refrain.
You swore to me that you would keep, for aye, your plighted
     faith; But when my heart was yours, you broke the oath that
     you had ta'en.
Are you secure against the shifts of time and evil chance, That
     you've no mercy on my love nor aught of pity deign?
If I must die, I prithee, write, 'fore God, upon my tomb, "A
     slave of passion lieth here, who died of love in vain."
It may be one shall pass that way, who knows the pangs of love,
     And looking on a lover's grave, take pity on her pain.

Then I wept; and when he heard what I said and saw my tears, his anger redoubled, and he repeated the following verses:

I left the darling of my heart, not from satiety; But she had
     sinned a sin that called aloud for punishment.
She would have ta'en another in to share with me her love, But
     the religion of my heart to share will not consent[FN#57].

Then I wept again and implored him, saying to myself, "I will work on him with words; so haply he may spare my life, though he take all I have." So I complained to him of my sufferings and repeated the following verses:

If thou indeed wert just to me, thou wouldst not take my life.
     Alas! against the law of Death no arbiter is there!
Thou layst upon my back the load of passion and desire, When I
     for weakness scarce can lift the very gown I wear!
That so my soul should waste away, small wonder is to me; But oh!
     I wonder how my flesh can thine estrangement bear.

Then I wept again, and he looked at me and reviled and reproached me, repeating the following verses:

Thou hast forgotten my love in the arms of another than me; Thou
     shew'st me estrangement, though I was never unfaithful to
     thee.
So I will cast thee away, since thou wast the first to forsake,
     And by thy pattern content to live without thee will I be.
And (like thyself) in the arms of another thy charms I'll forget;
     'Tis thou that hast sundered our loves: thou canst not
     reproach it to me.

Then he called to the slave with the sword, saying "Cut her in half and rid us of her, for we have no profit of her." So the slave drew near to me and I gave myself up for lost and committed my affair to God the Most High; but, at this moment, in came the old woman and threw herself at my husband's feet and kissed them, saying, "O my son, for the sake of my fosterage of thee and my service to thee, spare this young lady, for indeed she has done nothing deserving of death. Thou art a very young man, and I fear lest her death be laid to thy count, for it is said, 'He who kills shall be killed.' As for this wretched woman, put her away from thee and from thy thought and heart." And she ceased not to weep and implore him, till he relented and said, "I pardon her, but I will set a mark on her that shall stay with her all her life." Then he made the slaves strip off my clothes and hold me down, and taking a rod of quince-wood beat me with it on the back and sides till I lost my senses for excess of pain and despaired of life. Then he commanded slaves, as soon as it was dark, to carry me back to the house in which I had lived before my marriage with him, taking the old woman with them to guide them. They did as he bade them and cast me down in my house and went away. I did not recover from my swoon till the morning, when I applied myself to the dressing of my wounds, and medicined myself and kept my bed for four months, at the end of which time my body healed and I was restored to health; but my sides still bore the marks of the blows, as thou hast seen. As soon as I could walk, I went to the house where all this had happened, but found the whole street pulled down and nothing but heaps of rubbish where the house had stood, nor could I learn how this had come about. Then I betook myself to this my half-sister and found with her these two black bitches. I saluted her and told her what had befallen me; and she said, "O my sister, who is safe from the vicissitudes of fortune? Praised be God, who hath brought thee off with thy life!" And she repeated the following verse:

Fortune indeed was ever thus: endure it patiently, Whether thou suffer loss of wealth or friends depart from thee.

Then she told me her own story, and we abode together, she and I, never mentioning the name of marriage. After awhile there came to live with us this our other sister the cateress, who goes out every day and buys what we require for the day and night. We led this life till yesterday, when our sister went out as usual and fell in with the porter. Presently we were joined by these three Calenders and later on by three respectable merchants from Tiberias, all of whom we admitted to our company on certain conditions, which they infringed. But we forgave them their breach of faith, on condition that they should give us an account of themselves; so they told us their stories and went away; and we heard nothing more till this morning, when we were summoned to appear before thee; and this is our story.' The Khalif wondered at her story, and ordered it and those of her sister and the Calenders to be recorded in the archives of his reign and laid up in the royal treasury. Then he said to the eldest lady, 'Knowst thou where to find the Afriteh who enchanted thy sisters?' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered she, 'she gave me some of her hair, saying, "When thou wouldst see me, burn one or two of these hairs, and I will be with thee presently, though I be behind the mountain Caf."' Quoth the Khalif, 'Bring me the hair.' So she fetched it and he threw the whole lock into the fire, whereupon the palace shook and they heard a rumbling sound of thunder, and presently the Jinniyeh appeared and saluted the Khalif, saying, 'Peace be upon thee, O vicar of God!' 'And on thee be peace,' answered he, 'and the mercy of God and His blessing!' Quoth she, 'Know that this lady did me a service for which I cannot enough requite her, in that she saved me from death and slew my enemy. Now I had seen how her sisters dealt with her and felt bound to avenge her on them. At first, I was minded to kill them, but I feared it would be grievous to her, so I turned them into bitches; and now, O Commander of the Faithful, if thou wouldst have me release them, I will do so, out of respect to thee and to her, for I am of the true believers.' 'Release them,' said the Khalif; 'and after we will proceed to look into the affair of the beaten lady, and if her account prove true, we will avenge her on him who wronged her.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' replied she, 'I will release them forthwith and bring thee to the knowledge of him who maltreated this lady and took her property; and he is the nearest of all men to thee.' So saying, she took a cup of water and muttered over it and spoke words that might not be understood. Then she threw some of the water in the faces of the bitches, saying, 'Return to your former human shape;' whereupon they were restored to their original form, and the Afriteh said to the Khalif, 'O Commander of the Faithful, he who beat this lady is thy son El Amin, brother of El Mamoun[FN#58], who heard of her beauty and grace and laid a trap for her and married her; and indeed he is not to blame for beating her, for he laid a condition on her and took of her a solemn oath that she would not do a certain thing; but she was false to her vow; and he was minded to kill her, but was restrained by the fear of God the Most High and contented himself with beating her, as thou hast seen, and sending her back to her own place.' When the Khalif heard this, he wondered greatly and said, 'Glory be to God the Most High, the Supreme, who hath vouchsafed me the delivery of these two damsels from enchantment and torment and hath granted me to know the secret of this lady's history! By Allah, I will do a thing that shall be chronicled after me!' Then he summoned his son El Amin and questioned him of the story of the portress, and he told him the truth; whereupon the Khalif sent for Cadis and witnesses and married the eldest lady and her two sisters-german to the three Calenders, whom he made his chamberlains, appointing them stipends and all that they needed and lodging them in his palace at Baghdad. Moreover, he returned the beaten girl to her husband, his son El Amin, renewing the marriage contract between them, and gave her great wealth and bade rebuild the house more handsomely than before. As for himself, he took to wife the cateress and lay with her that night; and on the morrow he assigned her a separate lodging in his seraglio, with a fixed allowance and serving-maids to wait on her; and the people marvelled at his equity and magnificence and generosity.

When Shehrzad had made an end of her story, Dunyazad said to her, "By Allah, this is indeed a pleasant and delightful story, never was heard its like! But now, O my sister, tell us another story, to beguile the rest of the waking hours of our night." "With all my heart," answered Shehrzad, "if the King give me leave." And he said, "Tell thy story, and that quickly." Then said she, "They say, O King of the age and lord of the time and the day, that

THE THREE APPLES.

The Khalif Haroun er Reshid summoned his Vizier Jaafer one night and said to him, 'I have a mind to go down into the city and question the common people of the conduct of the officers charged with its government; and those of whom they complain, we will depose, and those whom they commend, we will advance.' Quoth Jaafer, 'I hear and obey.' So the Khalif and Jaafer and Mesrour went down into the town and walked about the streets and markets till, as they were passing through a certain alley, they came upon an old man walking along at a leisurely pace, with a fishing-net and a basket on his head and a staff in his hand, and heard him repeat the following verses:

They tell me I shine, by my wisdom and wit, Midst the rest of my
     kind, as the moon in the night.
"A truce to your idle discourses!" I cry, "What's knowledge,
     indeed, unattended by might?"
If you offered me, knowledge and wisdom and all, with my inkhorn
     and papers, in pawn for a mite,
To buy one day's victual, the pledge they'd reject And cast, like
     an unread petition, from sight.
Sorry, indeed, is the case of the poor, And his life, what a load
     of chagrin and despite!
In summer, he's pinched for a living and cowers O'er the fire-pot
     in winter, for warmth and for light.
The curs of the street dog his heels, as he goes, And the
     scurviest rascal may rail at the wight.
If he lift up his voice to complain of his case, He finds not a
     soul who will pity his plight.
Since such is the life and the lot of the poor, It were better he
     lay in the graveyard forthright!

When the Khalif heard this, he said to Jaafer, 'See yonder poor man and note his verses, for they show his necessity.' Then he went up to him and said, 'O old man, what is thy trade?' 'O my lord,' replied he, 'I am a fisherman, with a family to maintain; and I have been out since mid-day, but God has not vouchsafed me aught wherewith to feed them, and indeed I abhor myself and wish for death.' Quoth the Khalif, 'Wilt thou go back with me to the Tigris and cast thy net yet once more on my account, and I will buy of thee whatever comes up for a hundred dinars?' 'On my head be it!' answered the fisherman joyfully. 'I will go back with you.' So he returned with them to the river-bank and cast his net and waited awhile, then drew it up and found in it a chest, locked and heavy. The Khalif lifted it and found it weighty; so he gave the fisherman a hundred dinars, and he went his way; whilst Mesrour carried the chest to the palace, where he set it down before the Khalif and lighted the candles. Then Jaafer and Mesrour broke open the chest and found in it a basket of palm-leaves, sewn together with red worsted. This they cut open and found within a bundle wrapped in a piece of carpet. Under the carpet was a woman's veil and in this a young lady, as she were an ingot of silver, slain and cut in pieces. When the Khalif saw this, he was sore enraged and afflicted; the tears ran down his cheeks and he turned to Jaafer and said, "O dog of a Vizier, shall folk be murdered in my capital city and thrown into the river and their death laid to my account on the Day of Judgment? I must avenge this woman on her murderer and put him to death without mercy! And as surely as I am descended from the sons of Abbas, an thou bring me not him who slew her, that I may do her justice on him, I will hang thee and forty of thy kinsmen at the gate of my palace!' Quoth Jaafer, 'Grant me three days' respite.' And the Khalif said, 'I grant thee this.' So Jaafer went out from before him and returned to his house, full of sorrow and saying to himself, 'How shall I find him who killed the damsel, that I may bring him before the Khalif? If I bring other than the right man, it will be laid to my charge by God. Indeed, I know not what to do.' Then he kept his house three days, and on the fourth day, the Khalif sent one of his chamberlains for him and said to him, 'Where is the murderer of the damsel?' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' replied the Vizier, 'am I inspector of murdered folk, that I should know who killed her?' The Khalif was enraged at his answer and commanded to hang him before his palace-gate and that proclamation should be made in the streets of Baghdad, 'Whoso hath a mind to witness the hanging of Jaafer the Barmecide, Vizier of the Khalif, and of forty of his kin, before the gate of the Khalif's palace, let him come out to see!' So the people came out from all quarters to witness the execution of Jaafer and his kinsmen, not knowing the reason. Then they set up the gallows and made Jaafer and the others stand underneath in readiness; but whilst they awaited the Khalif's signal for the execution and the people wept for Jaafer and his kinsmen, behold, a handsome and well-dressed young man, with shining face and bright black eyes, flower-white forehead, downy whiskers and rosy cheeks and a mole like a grain of ambergris, pressed through the crowd, till he stood before Jaafer and said to him, 'I come to deliver thee from this strait, O chief of the Amirs and refuge of the poor! I am he who killed the woman ye found in the chest; so hang me for her and do her justice on me!' When Jaafer heard this, he rejoiced at his own deliverance, but grieved for the young man; and whilst they were yet talking, behold, a man far advanced in years made his way when he saluted them and said, 'O Vizier and noble lord, credit not what this young man says. None killed the damsel but I; so do thou avenge her on me, or I do accuse thee before God the Most High.' Then said the youth, 'O Vizier, this is a doting old man, who knows not what he says: it was I killed her, so do thou avenge her on me.' 'O my son,' said the old man, 'thou art young and desirest the things of the world, and I am old and weary of the world. I will ransom thee and the Vizier and his kinsmen with my life. None killed the damsel but I; so God on thee, make haste to hang me, or there is no living for me after her!' The Vizier marvelled at all this and taking the youth and the old man, carried them before the Khalif and said to him, 'O Commander of the Faithful, I bring thee the murderer of the damsel.' 'Where is he?' asked the Khalif, and Jaafer answered, 'This youth says he killed her, but this old man gives him the lie and affirms that he himself killed her: and behold, they are both in thy hands.' The Khalif looked at them and said, 'Which of you killed the damsel?' The youth replied, 'It was I.' And the old man, 'Indeed, none killed her but myself.' Then the Khalif said to Jaafer, 'Take them and hang them both.' But the Vizier replied, 'If one of them be the murderer, to hang the other were unjust.' 'By Him who vaulted the heavens and spread out the earth like a carpet,' cried the youth, 'it was I killed her!' And he set forth the circumstance of her death and how they had found her body, so that the Khalif was certified that he was the murderer, whereat he wondered and said to him, 'Why didst thou slay the damsel wrongfully and what made thee come and accuse thyself thus and confess thy crime without being beaten?' 'Know, O Commander of the Faithful,' answered the young man, 'that this damsel was my wife and the daughter of this old man, who is my father's brother, and she was a virgin when I married her. God blessed me with three male children by her, and she loved me and served me, and I also loved her with an exceeding love and saw no evil in her. We lived happily together till the beginning of this month, when she fell grievously ill. I fetched the doctors to her and she recovered slowly; and I would have had her take a bath; but she said, "There is something I long for, before I go to the bath." "What is it?" asked I, and she replied, "I have a longing for an apple, that I may smell it and bite a piece of it." So I went out into the city at once and sought for apples, but could find none, though, had they been a dinar apiece, I would have bought them. I was vexed at this and went home and said to my wife, "By Allah, my cousin, I can find none." She was distressed, being yet weak, and her weakness increased greatly on her that night, and I passed the night full of anxiety. As soon as it was day, I went out again and made the round of the gardens, but could find no apples anywhere. At last I met an old gardener, of whom I enquired for them, and he said to me, "O my son, this fruit is rare with us and is not now to be found but in the garden of the Commander of the Faithful at Bassora, where the gardener keeps them for the Khalif's table.' I returned home, troubled at my ill-success, and my love and concern for her moved me to undertake the journey to Bassora. So I set out and travelled thither and bought three apples of the gardener there for three dinars, with which I returned to Baghdad, after having been absent fifteen days and nights, going and coming. I went in to my wife and gave her the apples; but she took no pleasure in them and let them lie by her side; for weakness and fever had increased on her and did not leave her for ten days, at the end of which time she began to mend. So I left the house and went to my shop, where I sat buying and selling. About mid-day a great ugly black slave came into the bazaar, having in his hand one of the three apples, with which he was playing; so I called to him and said, "Prithee, good slave, tell me whence thou hadst that apple, that I may get the fellow to it." He laughed and answered, "I had it of my mistress; for I had been absent and on my return I found her lying ill, with three apples by her side: and she told me that the cuckold her husband had made a journey for them to Bassora, where he had bought them for three dinars. So I ate and drank with her and took this one from her." When I heard this, the world grew black in my eyes, and I rose and shut my shop and went home, beside myself for excess of rage. I looked for the apples and finding but two of them, said to my wife, "Where is the third apple?" Quoth she, "I know not what is come of it." This convinced me of the truth of the slave's story, so I took a knife and coming behind her, without word said, got up on her breast and cut her throat; after which I hewed her in pieces and wrapping her in her veil and a piece of carpet, sewed the whole up hurriedly in the basket. Then I put the basket in the chest and locking it up, set it on my mule and threw it into the Tigris with my own hands. So, God on thee, O Commander of the Faithful, make haste to hang me, for I fear lest she sue for vengeance on me at the Day of Resurrection! For when I had thrown her into the river, unknown of any, I returned home and found my eldest boy weeping, though he knew not what I had done with his mother; and I said to him "Why dost thou weep, my son?" He replied, "I took one of my mother's apples and went down with it into the street to play with my brothers, when lo, a tall black slave snatched it from my hand, saying, 'Whence hadst thou this?' Quoth I, 'My father journeyed to Bassora for it and brought it to my mother, who is ill, with two other apples for which he paid three dinars. Give it back to me and do not get me into trouble for it.' He paid no heed to my words and I demanded the apple a second and a third time; but he beat me and went away with it. I was afraid that my mother would beat me on account of the apple; so for fear of her, I went without the city with my brothers and abode there until night closed in upon us, and indeed I am in fear of her: so by Allah, O my father, say nothing to her of this, or it will add to her illness." When I heard what the child said, I knew that the slave was he who had forged a lie against my wife and was certified that I had killed her wrongfully. So I wept sore, and presently, this old man, her father, came in and I told him what had passed; and he sat down by my side and wept and we ceased not weeping half the night. This was five days ago and from that time to this, we have never ceased to bewail her and mourn for her, sorrowing sore for that she was unjustly put to death. All this came of the lying story of the slave, and this was the manner of my killing her; so I conjure thee, by the honour of thy forefathers, make haste to kill me and do her justice on me, for there is no living for me after her.' The Khalif wondered at his story and said, 'By Allah, the young man is excusable, and I will hang none but the accursed slave!' Then he fumed to Jaafer and said to him, 'Bring me the accursed slave, who was the cause of this calamity, and if thou bring him not in three days, thou shalt suffer in his stead.' And Jaafer went out, weeping and saying, 'Verily, I am beset by deaths; the pitcher does not come off for aye unbroken. I can do nothing in this matter; but He who saved me the first time may save me again. By Allah, I will not leave my house during the three days that remain to me, and God who is the Truth shall do what He will.' So he kept his house three days, and on the fourth day, he summoned Cadis and witnesses and made his last dispositions and bade farewell to his children, weeping. Presently in came a messenger from the Khalif and said to him, 'The Commander of the Faithful is beyond measure wroth and sends to seek thee and swears that the day shall not pass without thy being hanged.' When Jaafer heard this, he wept and his children and slaves and all that were in the house wept with him. Then they brought him his little daughter, that he might bid her farewell. Now he loved her more than all his other children; so he pressed her to his breast and kissed her and wept over his separation from her; when lo, he felt something round in her bosom and said to her, 'What's this in thy bosom?' 'O my father,' answered she, 'it is an apple with the name of our lord the Khalif written on it. Our slave Rihan brought it to me four days ago and would not let me have it, till I gave him two dinars for it.' When Jaafer heard this, he put his hand into her bosom and took out the apple and knew it and rejoiced, saying, 'O swift Dispeller of trouble[FN#59]!' Then he sent for the slave and said to him, 'Harkye Rihan, whence hadst thou this apple?' 'By Allah, O my lord,' replied he, 'though lying might get me off, yet is it safer to tell the truth[FN#60]! I did not steal it from thy palace nor from the palace of His Highness nor the garden of the Commander of the Faithful. The fact is that some days ago, I was passing along a certain alley of this city, when I saw some children playing and this apple in the hand of one of them. So I snatched it from him, and he wept and said, "O youth, this apple is my mother's and she is ill. She longed for apples, and my father journeyed to Bassora and bought her three for three dinars, and I took one of them to play with." But I paid no heed to what he said and beat him and went off with the apple and sold it to my little mistress for two dinars.' When Jaafer heard this, he wondered that the death of the damsel and all this misery should have been caused by his slave and grieved for the relation of the slave to himself, whilst rejoicing over his own delivery: and he repeated the following verses:

If through a servant misfortune befall thee, Spare not to save thine own life at his cost. Servants in plenty thou'lt find to replace him, Life for life never, once it is lost.

Then he carried the slave to the Khalif, to whom he related the whole story; and the Khalif wondered greatly and laughed till he fell backward and ordered the story to be recorded and published among the folk. Then said Jaafer, 'O Commander of the Faithful, wonder not at this story, for it is not more marvellous than that of Noureddin Ali of Cairo and his son Bedreddin Hassan.' 'What is that?' asked the Khalif; 'and how can it be more marvellous than this story?' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered Jaafer, 'I will not tell it thee except thou pardon my slave.' Quoth the Khalif, 'If it be indeed more marvellous than that of the three apples, I grant thee thy slave's life; but if not, I will kill him.' 'Know, then, O Commander of the Faithful,' said Jaafer, 'that

NOUREDDIN ALI OF CAIRO AND HIS SON BEDREDDIN HASSAN.

There was once in the land of Egypt a just and pious King who loved the poor and companied with the learned, and he had a Vizier, a wise and experienced man, well versed in affairs and in the art of government. This Vizier, who was a very old man, had two sons, as they were two moons, never was seen their like for beauty and grace, the elder called Shemseddin Mohammed and the younger Noureddin Ali; but the younger excelled his brother in comeliness and fair favour, so that folk heard of him in distant lands and journeyed to Egypt to get sight of him. After awhile the Vizier died, to the great grief of the Sultan, who sent for his two sons and invested them with robes of honour, saying, "Let not your hearts be troubled, for you shall stand in your father's stead and be joint Viziers of Egypt." At this they were glad and kissed the earth before him and mourned for their father a whole month, at the end of which time they entered upon the Vizierate, and the government passed into their hands, as it had been in those of their father, each ruling for a week at a time. Whenever the Sultan went on a journey, they took it in turns to accompany him; and the two brothers lived in one house, and there was perfect accord between them. It chanced, one night, that the Sultan purposed setting out on a journey on the morrow and the elder, whose turn it was to attend him, was sitting talking with his brother and said to him, "O my brother, it is my wish that we both marry and go in to our wives on the same night." "O my brother," replied Noureddin, "do as thou wilt; I will conform to thee." So they agreed upon this and Shemseddin said, "If it be the will of God that we both marry on the same night, and our wives be brought to bed on the same day, and thy wife bear a boy and mine a girl, we will marry the children to one another, for they will be cousins." "O my brother," asked Noureddin, "what dowry wilt thou require of my son for thy daughter!" Quoth the other, "I will have of him three thousand dinars and three gardens and three farms, for it would not be fitting that he bring her a smaller dowry than this." When Noureddin heard this, he said, "What dowry is this thou wouldst impose on my son? Knowest thou not that we are brothers and both by God's grace Viziers and equal in rank? It behoves thee to offer thy daughter to my son, without dowry: or if thou must have a dower, it should be something of nominal value, for mere show; for thou knowest the male to be more worthy than the female, and my son is a male, and our memory will be preserved by him, not by thy daughter; but I see thou wouldst do with me according to the saying, 'If thou wouldst drive away a purchaser, ask him a high price,' or as did one, who, being asked by a friend to do him a favour, replied, 'In the name of God; I will comply with thy request, but not till tomorrow.' Whereupon the other answered him with this verse:

'When one, of whom a favour's asked, postpones it till next day,
     'Tis, to a man who knows the world, as if he said him nay.'"

Quoth Shemseddin, "Verily, thou errest in that thou wouldst make thy son more worthy than my daughter, and it is plain that thou lackest both judgment and manners. Thou talkest of thy share in the Vizierate, when I only admitted thee to share with me, in pity for thee, not wishing to mortify thee, and that thou mightest help me. But since thou talkest thus, by Allah, I will not marry my daughter to thy son, though thou pay down her weight in gold!" When Noureddin heard this, he was angry and said, "And I, I will never marry my son to thy daughter." "I would not accept him as a husband for her," answered the other, "and were I not bound to attend the Sultan on his journey, I would make an example of thee; but when I return, I will let thee see what my dignity demands." When Noureddin heard this speech from his brother, he was beside himself for rage, but held his peace and stifled his vexation; and each passed the night in his own place, full of wrath against the other. As soon as it was day, the Sultan went out to Ghizeh and made for the Pyramids, accompanied by the Vizier Shemseddin, whilst Noureddin arose, sore enraged, and prayed the morning-prayer. Then he went to his treasury, and taking a small pair of saddle-bags, filled them with gold. And he called to mind his brother's words and the contempt with which he had treated him and repeated the following verses:

Travel, for yon shall find new friends in place of those you
     leave, And labour, for in toil indeed the sweets of life
     reside.
Nor gain nor honour comes to him who idly stays at home; So leave
     thy native land behind and journey far and wide.
Oft have I seen a stagnant pool corrupt with standing still; If
     water run, 'tis sweet, but else grows quickly putrefied.
If the full moon were always high and never waned nor set, Men
     would not strain their watchful eyes for it at every tide.
Except the arrow leave the bow, 'twill never hit the mark, Nor
     will the lion chance on prey, if in the copse he bide.
The aloes in its native land a kind of firewood is, And precious
     metals are but dust whilst in the mine they hide.
The one is sent abroad and grows more precious straight than
     gold; The other's brought to light and finds its value
     magnified.

Then he bade one of his people saddle him his mule with a padded saddle. Now she was a dapple mule, high-backed, like a dome builded upon columns; her saddle was of cloth of gold and her stirrups of Indian steel, her housings of Ispahan velvet, and she was like a bride on her wedding night. Moreover, he bade lay on her back a carpet of silk and strap the saddle-bags on that and spread a prayer-rug over the whole. The man did as he bade him and Noureddin said to his servants, "I have a mind to ride out a-pleasuring towards Kelyoubiyeh, and I shall lie three nights abroad; but let none of you follow me, for my heart is heavy." Then he mounted the mule in haste and set out from Cairo, taking with him a little victual, and made for the open country. About mid-day, he reached the town of Belbeys, where he alighted and rested himself and the mule. Then he took out food and ate and fared on again in the direction of the desert, after having bought victual and fodder for the mule in the town. Towards nightfall, he came to a town called Saadiyeh, where he alighted and took out food and ate, then spread the carpet on the ground and laying the saddle bags under his head, slept in the open air, for he was still overcome with anger. As soon as it was day, he mounted and rode onward, till he reached the city of Jerusalem and thence to Aleppo, where he alighted at one of the khans and abode three days, to rest himself and the mule. Then, being still intent upon travel, he mounted and setting out again, he knew not whither, journeyed on without ceasing, till he reached the city of Bassora, where he alighted at a certain khan and spread out his prayer-carpet, after having taken the saddle-bags off the mule's back and given her to the porter that he might walk her about. As chance would have it, the Vizier of Bassora, who was a very old man, was sitting at a window of his palace opposite the khan and saw the porter walking the mule up and down. He remarked her costly trappings and took her to be a mule of parade, of such as are ridden by kings and viziers. This set him thinking and he became perplexed and said to one of his servants, "Bring me yonder porter." So the servant went and returned with the porter, who kissed the ground before the Vizier; and the latter said to him, "Who is the owner of that mule, and what manner of man is he?" "O my lord," replied the porter, "he is a comely young man of the sons of the merchants, grave and dignified of aspect." When the Vizier heard this, he rose at once and mounting his horse, rode to the khan and went in to Noureddin, who, seeing him making towards himself, rose and went to meet him and saluted him. The Vizier bade him welcome to Bassora and dismounting, embraced him and made him sit down by his side and said to him, "O my son, whence comest thou and what dost thou seek?" "O my lord." answered Noureddin, "I come from the city of Cairo;" and told him his story from beginning to end, saying, "I am resolved not to return home, till I have seen all the towns and countries of the world." When the Vizier heard this, he said to him, "O my son, follow not the promptings of thy soul, lest they bring thee into peril; for indeed the lands are waste and I fear the issues of Fortune for thee." Then he let load the saddle-bags and the carpets on the mule and carried Noureddin to his own house, where he lodged him in a pleasant place and made much of him, for he had conceived a great affection for him. After awhile, he said to him, "O my son, I am an old man and have no male child, but God has given me a daughter who is thy match for beauty, and I have refused many suitors for her hand. But love of thee has got hold upon my heart; so wilt thou accept of my daughter to thine handmaid and be her husband? If thou consent to this, I will carry thee to the Sultan of Bassora and tell him that thou art my brother's son and bring thee to be appointed Vizier in my stead, that I may keep the house, for, by Allah, O my son, I am a very old man and I am weary." When Noureddin heard the Vizier's proposal, he bowed his head awhile, then raised it and answered, "I hear and obey." At this the Vizier rejoiced and bade his servants decorate the great hall, in which they were wont to celebrate the marriages of nobles. Then he assembled his friends and the notables of the kingdom and the merchants of Bassora and said to them, "I had a brother who was Vizier in Cairo, and God vouchsafed him two sons, whilst to me, as you know, He has given a daughter. My brother proposed to me to marry my daughter to one of his sons, to which I consented; and when my daughter came at a marriageable age, he sent me one of his sons, this young man now present, to whom I purpose now to marry her, for he is better than a stranger, and that he shall go in to her in my house this night. After, if he please, he shall abide with me, or if he please, he shall return with his wife to his father." The guests replied, "It is well seen of thee." And they looked at Noureddin and were pleased with him. So the Vizier sent for Cadis and witnesses, and they drew up the marriage contract, after which the servants perfumed the guests with incense and sprinkled rose-water on them, and they drank sherbet of sugar and went away. Then the Vizier bade his servants take Noureddin to the bath and sent him a suit of the best of his own clothes, besides cups and napkins and perfume-burners and all else that he required. So he went to the bath, and when he came out and put on the suit, he was like the moon on the night of her full. Then he mounted his mule and returning to the Vizier's palace, went in to the latter and kissed his hands. The Vizier welcomed him and said to him, "Arise, go in to thy wife this night, and tomorrow I will carry thee to the Sultan; and I pray God to bless thee with all manner of good!" So Noureddin left him and went in to his wife, the Vizier's daughter. To return to his brother Shemseddin. When he came back to Cairo, after having been absent awhile with the Sultan, he missed his brother and enquired of his servants, who said, "On the day of thy departure with the Sultan, thy brother mounted his mule, caparisoned as for state, saying, 'I am going towards El Kelyoubiyeh and shall be absent a day or two, for I am heavy of heart; and let none follow me.' Then he rode away, and from that time to this we have heard nothing of him." Shemseddin was concerned at his brother's absence and became exceedingly uneasy, when he found that he did not return, and said to himself, "This is because I spoke harshly to him that night, and he has taken it to heart and gone away; but I must send after him." Then he went in to the King and acquainted him with what had happened, and he wrote letters and despatched couriers to his deputies in every province; but after awhile they returned without having been able to come at any news of Noureddin, who had by this time reached Bassora. So Shemseddin despaired of finding his brother and said, "Indeed, I went beyond all bounds in what I said to him, with reference to the marriage of our children. Would it had not been so! This all comes of my lack of sense and judgment." Soon after this he sought in marriage the daughter of a merchant of Cairo and took her to wife and went in to her (as it happened by the will of God the Most High, that so He might carry out what He had decreed to His creatures) on the very night on which Noureddin went in to the Vizier's daughter of Bassora. Moreover, it was as the two brothers had said; for their wives conceived by them and were brought to bed on the same day, the wife of Shemseddin of a daughter, never was seen in Cairo a fairer than she, and the wife of Noureddin of a son, than whom a handsomer was never seen in his time. They named the boy Bedreddin Hassan, and his grandfather, the Vizier of Bassora rejoiced in him and gave feasts and public entertainments, as for the birth of a king's son. Then he took Noureddin and went up with him to the Sultan. When Noureddin came in presence of the King, he kissed the ground before him and repeated the following verses, for he was facile of speech, firm of soul and abounding in good parts and natural gifts:

May all delights of life attend thee, O my lord, And mayst thou
     live as long as night and morning be!
Lo! when meets tongues recall thy magnanimity, The age doth leap
     for Joy and Time claps hands for glee.

The Sultan rose to receive them and after thanking Noureddin for his compliment, asked the Vizier who he was. The Vizier replied, "This is my brother's son." And the Sultan said, "How comes it that we have never heard of him?" "O my lord the Sultan," answered the Vizier, know that my brother was Vizier in Egypt and died, leaving two sons, whereof the elder became Vizier in his father's stead and the younger, whom thou seest, came to me. I had sworn that I would give my daughter in marriage to none but him; so when he came, I married him to her. Now he is young and I am old; my hearing grows dull and my judgment fails; wherefore I pray our lord the Sultan to make him Vizier in my room, for he is my brother's son and the husband of my daughter, and he is apt for the Vizierate, being a man of sense and judgment." The Sultan looked at Noureddin and was pleased with him, so granted the Vizier's request and appointed him to the Vizierate, presenting him with a splendid dress of honour and one of his choicest mules and allotting him stipends and allowances. Noureddin kissed the Sultan's hands and went home, he and his father-in-law, rejoicing greatly and saying, "This is of the good fortune of the new-born Hassan.'' Next day he presented himself before the King and repeated the following verses:

New favours attend thee each day of thy life, And fortune to
     counter the craft of thy foes!
May thy days with God's favour be white to the end, And black be
     their days with misfortune and woes!

The Sultan commanded him to sit in the Vizier's place; so he sat down and applied himself to the business of his office, examining into the folks' affairs and giving judgment on their suits, after the usage of Viziers, whilst the Sultan watched him and wondered at his wit and good sense and judgment, wherefore he loved him and took him into favour. When the Divan broke up, Noureddin returned to his house and related what had passed to his father-in-law, who rejoiced. Thence-forward Noureddin ceased not so to apply himself to the duties of the Vizierate, that he left not the Sultan day or night and the latter increased his stipends and allowances till he amassed great wealth and became the owner of ships, that made trading voyages for his hand, as well as of slaves and servants, black and white, and laid out many estates and made irrigation-works and planted gardens. When his son Hassan was four years old, his father-in-law, the old Vizier, died, and he buried him with great pomp. Then he occupied himself with the education of his son and when he came to the age of seven, he brought him a doctor of the law, to teach him in his own house, and charged him to give him a good education and teach him good manners. So the tutor taught the boy to read and all manner of useful knowledge, after he had spent some years in committing the Koran to memory; and he grew in stature and beauty and symmetry, even as says the poet:

The moon in the heaven of his grace shines full and fair to see,
     And the sun of the morning glows in his cheeks' anemones.
He's such a compend of beauties, meseems, indeed, from him The
     world all beauty borrows that lives in lands and seas.

The professor brought him up in his father's palace, and all his years of youth he never left the house, till one day his father clad him in his richest clothes, and mounting him on one of the best of his mules, carried him to the Sultan, who was struck with his beauty and loved him. As for the people of the city, when he passed through the streets on his way to the palace, they were dazzled with his loveliness and sat down in the road, awaiting his return, that they might gaze their fill on his beauty and grace and symmetry. The Sultan made much of the boy and bade his father bring him with him, whenever his affairs called him to the palace. Noureddin replied, "I hear and obey," and ceased not to carry him to the Sultan's court, till he reached the age of fifteen, when his father sickened and calling his son, said to him, "Know, O my son, that this world is but a temporary abode, whilst the next is an eternal one. Before I die, I wish to give thee certain last injunctions, so pay heed to my words and set thy mind to understand them." Then he gave him certain advice as to the proper way of dealing with folk and the conduct of his affairs; after which he called to mind his brother and his native land and wept for his separation from those he loved. Then he wiped away his tears and turning to his son, said to him, "Before I proceed to my parting exhortations, thou must know that thou hast an uncle who is Vizier in Cairo, and I left him and went away without his consent." Then he took a sheet of paper and wrote therein all that had happened to him from the day of the dispute, together with the dates of his marriage and going in to the Vizier's daughter and the birth of his son; after which he folded and sealed the paper and gave it to his son, saying, "keep this paper carefully, for in it is written thy rank and lineage and origin, and if any mishap befall thee, go to Cairo and ask for thine uncle and give him this and tell him that I died in a foreign land, full of longing for him." So Bedreddin took the paper and wrapping it in a piece of waxed cloth, sewed it into the lining of his skull-cap and wound the muslin of his turban over it, weeping the while at the thought of losing his father, whilst himself but a boy. Then said Noureddin, "I have five behests to lay on thee: and the first is that thou be not too familiar with any one, neither frequent him nor foregather with him over-much; so shalt thou be safe from his mischief, for in retirement is safety, and I have heard it said by a poet:

There is no man in all the world, whose love is worth thy trust,
     No friend who, if fate play thee false, will true and
     constant be.
Wherefore I'd have thee live apart and lean for help on none. In
     this I give thee good advice; so let it profit thee.

Secondly, O my son, oppress no one, lest Fortune oppress thee; for the fortune of this world is one day for thee and another against thee, and its goods are but a loan to be repaid. As I have heard a poet say:

Be slow to move and hasten not to snatch thy heart's desire; Be
     merciful to all, as thou on mercy reckonest;
For no hand is there but the hand of God is over it, And no
     oppressor but shall be with worse than he oppress.

Thirdly, preserve silence and let thy faults distract thee from those of other men; for it is said that in silence is safety; and thereon I have heard the following verses:

Silence is fair and safety lies in taciturnity. So, when thou
     speak'st, I counsel thee, give not thy tongue the rein.
Since, for one time that thou repent the having held thy tongue,
     Thou shalt of having spoke repent again and yet again.

Fourthly, O my son, beware of drinking wine, for wine is the root of all evils and the thief of wit. Guard thyself from it, for the poet says:

Wine and the drinkers of wine I have put away, And am become of
     those that of it mis-say.
For wine indeed diverts from the road of right, And to all kinds
     of evil opens the way.

Lastly, O my son, keep thy wealth, that it may keep thee, and watch over it, that it may watch over thee. Squander not thy substance, or thou wilt come to need the meanest of folk. Guard well thy money, for it is a sovereign salve for the wounds of life, even as says the poet:

If wealth should fail, there is no friend will bear thee company,
     But whilst thy substance still abounds, all men are friends
     to thee.
How many a foe for money's sake hath companied with me! But when
     wealth failed beneath my hand, my dearest friend did flee."

And Noureddin ceased not to exhort his son till his spirit departed and his house became the abode of mourning. The King and all the Amirs grieved for him and buried him; but Bedreddin ceased not to bewail his father for two whole months, during which time he never left the house, nor did he attend the Divan or present himself before the Sultan. At last the latter became wroth with him and made one of his chamberlains Vizier in his stead and bade him seize on all Noureddin's houses and goods and possessions and seal them up. So the new Vizier went forth to do this and take Bedreddin Hassan and bring him before the Sultan, that he might deal with him as he thought fit. Now there was among the troops one who had been a servant of the deceased Vizier, and when he heard this order he spurred his steed and rode at full speed to Bedreddin's house, where he found him sitting at the gate, with downcast head, broken-hearted. So he dismounted and kissing his hand, said to him, "O my lord and son of my lord, hasten, ere destruction light on thee!" When Bedreddin heard this, he trembled and said, "What is the matter?" "The Sultan is wroth with thee," answered the other, "and has given orders for thine arrest, and calamity follows hard upon me, so flee for thy life." Quoth Bedreddin, "Is there time for me to go in and take somewhat to stand me in stead in my strangerhood?" But the other answered, "O my lord, rise at once and save thyself whilst it is yet time, and leave thy house." So Bedreddin covered his face with his skirt and went out and walked on till he came without the city. On his way, he heard the people saying that the Sultan had sent the new Vizier to the late Vizier's house, to seize on his possessions and take his son Bedreddin Hassan and bring him before him, that he might put him to death, and they grieved for him by reason of his beauty and grace. When he heard this, he fled forth at hazard, not knowing whither, and chance led him to the cemetery where his father was buried. So he passed among the tombs, till he came to his father's sepulchre and entering, sat down and let fall from over his head the skirt of his cassock, which was made of brocade, with the following lines embroidered in gold on the hem:

Thou whose face with the rainbow might vie, That art bright as
     the stars of the sky,
May thy fortune ne'er fail to be fair And thy glory for ever be
     high!

As he sat by his father's tomb, there came up a Jew, as he were a money-changer, with a pair of saddle-bags full of gold, and accosted him, saying, "Whither away, O my lord? It is near the end of the day and thou art lightly clad and bearest the marks of chagrin on thy countenance." "I was asleep but now," answered Bedreddin, "when my father appeared to me and reproached me for not having visited his tomb, and I awoke, trembling, and came hither at once, fearing lest the day should pass, without my paying him a visit, which would have been grievous to me." "O my lord," said the Jew, "thy father had many ships at sea, whereof some are now due; and it is my wish to buy of thee the cargo of the first that comes into port for a thousand dinars." "I will well," answered Bedreddin; whereupon the Jew took out a purse of gold and counted out a thousand dinars, which he gave to Bedreddin, saying, "Write me an acknowledgment and seal it." So Bedreddin took pen and paper and wrote the following in double: "The writer, Bedreddin Hassan, son of the Vizier Noureddin of Bassora, has sold to Isaac the Jew all the cargo of the first of his father's ships that comes into port, at the price of a thousand dinars, which he has received in advance." Then he gave one copy to the Jew, who took it and went away, and put the other in the purse, which he thrust into his waistcloth. And he bethought him of his former estate of honour and consideration and wept and repeated the following verses:

Home is no longer home to me, now ye are gone away, Nor are the
     neighbours neighbours now, after our parting-day,
The comrade, whom I loved whilere, no more a comrade is, And even
     the very sun and moon' no longer bright are they.
Ye went away and all the world was saddened for your loss, And
     all the hills and plains grew dark with sorrow and dismay.
O that the raven of ill-luck, that croaked our parting hour, May
     lose his plumes nor find a nest in which his bead to lay!
My patience fails me for desire, my body wasteth sore; How many a
     veil the hands of death and parting rend in tway!
I wonder, will our happy nights come ever back again, Or one
     house hold us two once more, after the olden way!

Then he wept sore and laying his head on his father's tomb, remained plunged in melancholy thought till drowsiness overcame him and he fell asleep. He slept on till the moon rose, when his head rolled off the tomb and he lay on his back, with his face gleaming in the moon. Now the cemetery was haunted by true-believing Jinn, and presently a Jinniyeh came out and seeing Bedreddin lying asleep, marvelled at his beauty and grace and said, "Glory be to God! This can be no other than one of the children of Paradise." Then she rose into the air to fly about, as was her wont, and met an Afrit flying, who saluted her, and she said to him, "Whence comest thou?" "From Cairo," replied he. Quoth she, "Wilt thou come with me and look on the beauty of a youth who sleeps in the burial-ground yonder?" And he said, "I will well." So they both flew down to the tomb and she showed him Bedreddin, saying, "Sawest thou ever the like of this young man?" The Afrit looked at him and exclaimed, "Blessed be God to whom there is none like! But, O my sister, shall I tell thee what I have seen this day?" "What is that?" asked she; and he answered, "I have seen a young lady in the land of Egypt, who is the counterpart of this youth. She is the daughter of the Vizier Shemseddin of Cairo and is possessed of beauty and grace and symmetry and perfection. When she reached the age of fifteen, the Sultan of Egypt heard of her and sending for the Vizier her father, said to him, 'O Vizier, it has come to my knowledge that thou hast a daughter and I wish to demand her of thee in marriage.' 'O my lord the Sultan,' replied the Vizier, 'I prithee accept my excuse and take compassion on my grief, for thou knowest that my brother Noureddin, who was my partner in the Vizierate, left us many years ago and went I know not whither. Now the reason of his departure was that one night we were sitting talking of marriage and children, when we came to words on the subject and he was angry with me and went away in his anger. But on the day her mother bore her, fifteen years ago, I swore that I would marry my daughter to none but my brother's son. Now, awhile ago, I heard that he is lately dead at Bassora, where he was Vizier, after having married the former Vizier's daughter and had by her a son; and I will not marry my daughter but to him, in honour of my brother's memory. Moreover, I recorded the date of my marriage and of the conception and birth of my daughter and drew her horoscope, and she is destined for her cousin and there are girls in plenty for our lord the Sultan.' When the Sultan heard the Vizier's answer, he was exceeding wroth and said, 'When the like of me demands in marriage the daughter of the like of thee, he confers a favour on her, and thou puttest me off with idle excuses! As my head liveth, I will marry her to the meanest of my serving men, to spite thee!' Now the Sultan had a hunchbacked groom, with a hump behind and before, and he sent for him and married him to the Vizier's daughter, whether she would or no, and bade carry him in procession and bring him in to his bride this very night. Now I have just come from Cairo, where I left the hunchback at the door of the bath, surrounded by the King's servants holding lighted flambeaux and making mock of him. As for the Vizier's daughter, she sits among her nurses and tire-women, weeping, for they have forbidden her father access to her. Never, O my sister, saw I one more hideous than the hunchback, whilst the young lady is the likest of all folk to this youth, though she is even handsomer than he." "Thou liest," replied the Jinniyeh; "this youth is handsomer than any one of his day." "By Allah, O my sister," replied the Afrit, "the girl I speak of is handsomer than he, but none but he is worthy of her, for they resemble each other as they were brother and sister or brothers' children. Alas, the pity of her with that hunchback!" Then said she, "O my brother, let us take him up and carry him to Cairo, that we may compare him with the damsel and see whether of them is the handsomer." "I hear and obey," answered the Afrit; "this is right well advised, and I will carry him." So he took Bedreddin up and flew with him through the air, accompanied by the Afriteh, till he alighted in the city of Cairo and set him down on a stone bench. Then he aroused him, and when he found himself no longer on his father's tomb in Bassora, but in a strange city, he would have cried out, but the Afrit gave him a cuff and imposed silence on him. Then he brought him a splendid dress and made him put it on, and giving him a lighted flambeau, said to him, "Know that I have brought thee hither, meaning to do thee a good turn for the love of God; so take this torch and mingle with the people at the door of the bath and accompany them to the house of the wedding festival. Then advance and enter the hall and fear none, but sit down on the right hand of the humpbacked bridegroom; and as often as the tire-women and singers stop before thee, put thy hand into thy pocket and thou wilt find it full of gold. Take it out by handsful and give to all who come to thee and spare not, for as often as thou puttest thy hand into thy pocket, thou wilt find it without fail full of gold. So fear nothing, but put thy trust in Him who created thee, for all this is not by shine own strength but by that of God, that His decrees may take effect upon His creatures." Quoth Bedreddin to himself, "I wonder what is the meaning of all this!" And taking the torch, went to the bath, where he found the hunchback already on horseback. So he mixed with the people and moved on with the bridal-procession; and as often as the singing-women stopped to collect largesse from the people, he put his hand into his pocket and finding it full of gold, took out a handful and threw it into the singers' tambourine, till it was full of dinars. The singing women were amazed at his munificence and they and the people wondered at his beauty and grace and the richness of his dress. He ceased not to do thus, till he reached the Vizier's palace, where the chamberlains drove back the people and forbade them to enter; but the singing women said, "By Allah, we will not enter, unless this young man enter with us, for he has overwhelmed us with his bounties; nor shall the bride be displayed, except he be present." So the chamberlains let him pass, and he entered the bridal saloon with the singers, who made him sit down, in defiance of the humpbacked bridegroom. The wives of the Viziers and Amirs and chamberlains were ranged, each veiled to the eyes and holding a great lighted flambeau, in two ranks, extending right and left from the bride's throne[FN#61] to the upper end of the dais, in front of the door from which she was to issue. When the ladies saw Bedreddin and noted his beauty and grace and his face that shone like the new moon, they all inclined to him, and the singers said to all the women present, "You must know that this handsome youth has handselled us with nought but red gold, so fail ye not to wait on him and comply with all that he says." So all the women crowded round Bedreddin, with their torches, and gazed on his beauty arid envied him his grace; and each would gladly have lain in his bosom an hour or a year. In their intoxication, they let fall their veils from their faces and said, "Happy she who belongs to him or to whom he belongs!" And they cursed the humpbacked groom and him who was the cause of his marriage to that lovely lady; and as often as they invoked blessings on Bedreddin, they followed them up with imprecations on the hunchback, saying, "Indeed, this youth and he alone deserves our bride. Alas, the pity of her with this wretched hunchback, God's curse be on him and on the Sultan who will have her marry him!" Then the singers beat their tambourines and raised cries of joy, announcing the coming of the bride; and the Vizier's daughter entered, surrounded by her tire-women, who had perfumed her with essences and incensed her and decked her hair and dressed her in costly robes and ornaments such as were worn by the ancient kings of Persia. Over all she wore a robe embroidered in red gold with figures of birds and beasts with eyes and beaks of precious stones and feet and claws of red rubies and green beryl, and about her neck was clasped a necklace of Yemen work, worth many thousands of dinars, whose beazels were all manner jewels, never had Caesar or King of Yemen its like. She seemed as it were the full moon, when it shines out on the fourteenth night, or one of the houris of Paradise, glory be to Him who made her so splendidly fair! The women encompassed her as they were stars, and she in their midst as the moon breaking through the clouds. As she came forward, swaying gracefully to and fro, the hunchback rose to kiss her, but she turned from him and seeing Bedreddin Hassan seated, with all the company gazing on him, went and stood before him. When the folk saw her thus attracted towards Bedreddin, they laughed and shouted and the singers raised their voices, whereupon he put his hand to his pocket and cast gold by handsful into the tambourines of the singing-women, who rejoiced and said, "Would this bride were thine!" At this he smiled, and the people came round him, with the flambeaux in their hands, whilst the hunchback was left sitting alone, looking like an ape; for as often as they lighted a candle for him, it went out and he abode in darkness, speechless and confounded and grumbling to himself. When Bedreddin saw the bridegroom sitting moping alone and all the lights and people collected round himself, he was confounded and marvelled; but when he looked at his cousin, the Vizier's daughter, he rejoiced and was glad, for indeed her face was radiant with light and brilliancy. Then the tire-women took off the veil and displayed the bride in her first dress of red satin, and she moved to and fro with a languorous grace, till the heads of all the men and women were turned by her loveliness, for she was even as says the excellent poet:

Like a sun at the end of a cane in a hill of sand, She shines in
     a dress of the hue of pomegranate-flower.
She gives me to drink of her cheeks and her honeyed lips, And
     quenches the flaming fires that my heart devour.

Then they changed her dress and displayed her in a robe of blue; and she reappeared like the moon when it bursts through the clouds, with her coal-black hair and her smiling teeth, her delicate cheeks and her swelling bosom, even as says the sublime poet:

She comes in a robe the colour of ultramarine, Blue as the
     stainless sky unflecked with white.
I view her with yearning eyes, and she seems to me A moon of the
     summer set in a winter's night.

Then they clad her in a third dress and letting down her long black ringlets, veiled her face to her eyes with the super-abundance of her hair, which vied with the murkiest night in length and blackness; and she smote all hearts with the enchanted arrows of her glances. As says the poet:

With hair that hides her rosy cheeks ev'n to her speaking eyes,
     She comes; and I her locks compare unto a sable cloud
And say to her, "Thou curtainest the morning with the night." But
     she, "Not so; it is the moon that with the dark I shroud."

Then they displayed her in the fourth dress, and she shone forth like the rising sun, swaying to and fro with amorous languor and turning from side to side with gazelle-like grace. And she pierced hearts with the arrows of her eyelashes; even as says the poet:

A sun of beauty she appears to all that look on her, Glorious in
     arch and amorous grace, with coyness beautified;
And when the sun of morning sees her visage and her smile,
     Conquered, he hasteneth his face behind the clouds to hide.

Then they displayed her in the fifth dress, with her ringlets let down. The downy hair crept along her cheeks, and she swayed to and fro, like a willow-wand or a gazelle bending down to drink, with graceful motions of the neck and hips. As says the poet, describing her:

Like the full moon she doth appear, on a calm night and fair;
     Slender of shape and charming all with her seductive air.
She hath an eye, whose glances pierce the hearts of all mankind,
     Nor can cornelian with her cheeks for ruddiness compare.
The sable torrent of her locks falls down unto her hips; Beware
     the serpents of her curls, I counsel thee, beware!
Indeed, her glance, her sides are soft, but none the less, alas!
     Her heart is harder than the rock; there is no mercy there.
The starry arrows of her looks she darts above her veil; They hit
     and never miss the mark, though from afar they fare.
When I clasp hands about her waist, to press her to my heart, The
     swelling apples of her breast compel me to forbear.
Alas, her beauty! it outdoes all other loveliness; Her shape
     transcends the willow-wand and makes the branch despair.

Then they unveiled her in the sixth dress, which was green. In this she reached the utmost bounds of loveliness, outvying in slender straightness the tawny spear-shaft, and in suppleness and flexile grace the bending branch, whilst the splendours of her face outshone the radiance of the full moon. Indeed, she transcended the fair of all quarters of the world and all hearts were broken by her loveliness; for she was even as says the poet:

A damsel made for love and decked with subtle grace; You'd say
     the very sun had borrowed from her face.
She came in robes of green, the likeness of the leaf That the
     pomegranate flower cloth in the bud encase.
"How call'st thou this thy dress?" we said to her, and she Made
     answer with a word full of malicious grace.
"Breaker of Hearts," quoth she, "I call it, for therewith I've
     broken many a heart among the human race."

Then they dressed her in the seventh dress, which was of a colour between saffron and orange, even as says the poet:

Scented with sandal and musk and ambergris, lo! she comes. The
     blended hues of her dress 'twixt orange and saffron show.
Slender and shapely she is; vivacity bids her arise, But the
     weight of her hips says, "Sit, or softly and slowly go."
When I solicit her kiss and sue for my heart's desire, "Be
     gracious," her beauty says, but her coquetry answers, "No."

They unveiled the bride, in all her seven dresses, before Bedreddin Hassan, leaving the hunchback sitting by himself; and when she opened her eyes, she said, "O my God, grant that this youth may be my husband and deliver me from this humpbacked groom." Then they dismissed the company and all who were present retired, except Bedreddin Hassan and the hunchback, whilst the tire-women carried off the bride to undress her and prepare her for the bridegroom. Thereupon the hunchback came up to Bedreddin Hassan and said to him, "O my lord, thou hast cheered us with thy company tonight and overwhelmed us with thy favours. Wilt thou not now rise and depart?" "In the name of God," replied Bedreddin, and rising, went out of the door, where the Afrit met him and said to him, "Stay where thou art, and when the hunchback goes out to the draught-house, enter thou the bride chamber and do not hesitate, but sit down in the alcove, and when the bride comes, say to her, ''Tis I who am thy husband, for the King only played this trick on thee, to conjure the evil eye from us; and he whom thou sawest is one of our grooms.' Then go up to her and uncover her face and fear nothing, for jealousy hath taken us of this affair and none is worthy to enjoy her youth but thyself.' As he was yet speaking, the groom came out and entering the closet, sat down on the stool. Hardly had he done so, when the Afrit appeared to him in the shape of a mouse, issuing from the water-trough,[FN#62] and cried "Queek!" Quoth the hunchback, "What ails thee?" And the mouse increased till it became a cat and said, "Miaou! Miaou!" Then it grew still more and became a dog and cried, "Bow! Wow!" When the hunchback saw this, he was terrified and exclaimed, "Begone, O unlucky one!" The dog increased and became an ass-colt, that brayed and cried out in his face, "Heehaw! Heehaw!" Whereupon the hunchback quaked and cried out, "Come to my aid, O people of the house!" But the ass increased and swelled, till it became a buffalo and barred the way against him and said with a human voice, "Out on thee, hunchback, thou stinkard!" The groom was seized with a colic and sat down on the jakes with his clothes on and his teeth chattering. Quoth the Afrit, "Is the world so small that thou canst find none to marry but my mistress?'' But he was silent, and the Afrit said, "Answer me, or I will make thee a dweller in the dust." "By Allah," replied the hunchback, "I am not to blame, for they forced me to marry her, and I knew not that she had a buffalo for a gallant; but I repent to God and to thee. What wilt thou have me do?" Quoth the Afrit, "I swear to thee that, if thou leave this place or speak before sunrise, I will wring thy neck! When the sun rises, go thy way and never return to this house." So saying, he seized the hunchback and set him upside down against the wall, with his head in the slit and his feet in the air, and said to him, "I will leave thee here and watch thee till sunrise; and if thou stir before then, I will seize thee by the feet and dash out thy brains against the wall." Meanwhile Bedreddin Hassan entered the bride chamber and sat down in the alcove. Presently, in came the bride, attended by an old woman, who stopped at the door of the chamber and said, "O father of symmetry,[FN#63] arise and take what God sends thee." Then the old woman went away, and the bride, whose name was the Lady of Beauty, entered, heart-broken and saying to herself, "By Allah, I will never yield myself to him, though he kill me!" When she came to the alcove, she saw Bedreddin sitting there and said, "O my friend, thou here at this hour! By Allah, I was wishing that thou wast my husband or that thou and the groom were partners in me!" "How should the groom have access to thee," asked Bedreddin, "and how should he share with me in thee?" Quoth she "Who is my husband, thou or he?" "O Lady of Beauty," replied Bedreddin, "all this was only a device to conjure the evil eye from us. Thy father hired the hunchback for ten diners to that end, and now he has taken his wage and gone away. Didst thou not see the singers and tire-women laughing at him and how thy people displayed thee before me?" When the Lady of Beauty heard this, she smiled and rejoiced and laughed softly. Then she said to him, "Thou hast quenched the fire of my heart, so, by Allah, take me and press me to thy bosom." Now she was without clothes; so she threw open the veil in which she was wrapped and showed her hidden charms. At this sight, desire stirred in Bedreddin, and he rose and put off his clothes. The purse of a thousand dinars he had received of the Jew he wrapped in his trousers and laid them under the mattress; then took off his turban and hung it on the settle, remaining in a skull-cap and shirt of fine silk, laced with gold. With this arose the Lady of Beauty and drew him to her, and he did the like with her. Then he took her to his embrace and pointing the engine that batters down the fortalice of virginity, stormed the citadel and found her an unpierced pearl and a filly that none but he had ridden. So he took her maidenhead and enjoyed her dower of youth; nor did he stint to return to the assault till he had furnished fifteen courses, and she conceived by him. Then he laid his hand under her head and she did the like, and they embraced and fell asleep in each other's arms, whilst the tongue of the case spoke the words of the poet:

Cleave fast to her thou lov'st and let the envious rail amain,
     For calumny and envy ne'er to favour love were fain.
Lo! the Compassionate hath made no fairer thing to see Than when
     one couch in its embrace enfoldeth lovers twain,
Each to the other's bosom clasped, clad in their own delight,
     Whilst hand with hand and arm with arm about their necks
     enchain.
Lo! when two hearts are straitly knit in passion and desire, But
     on cold iron smite the folk that chide at them in vain.
If in thy time thou find but one to love thee and be true, I rede
     thee cast the world away and with that one remain.

As soon as Bedreddin was asleep, the Afrit said to the Afriteh, "Come, let us take up the young man and carry him back to his place, ere the dawn overtake us, for the day is near." So she took up Bedreddin, as he lay asleep, clad only in his shirt and skull-cap, and flew away with him, accompanied by the Afrit. But the dawn overtook them midway and the muezzins began to chant the call to morning-prayer. Then God let His angels cast at the Afrit with shooting-stars, and he was consumed; but the Afriteh escaped and lighted down with Bedreddin, fearing to carry him further, lest he should come to harm. Now as fate would have it, she had reached the city of Damascus, so she laid Bedreddin down before one of its gates and flew away. As soon as it was day, the gate was thrown open and the folk came out, and seeing a handsome young man, clad in nothing but a shirt and skull-cap, lying on the ground, drowned in sleep by reason of his much swink of the night before, said, "Happy she with whom this youth lay the night! Would he had waited to put on his clothes!" Quoth another, "A sorry race are young men of family! Belike, this fellow but now came forth of the tavern on some occasion or other, but being overcome with drunkenness, missed the place he was making for and strayed till he came to the city gate, and finding it shut, lay down and fell asleep." As they were bandying words about him, the breeze blew on him and raising his shirt, showed a stomach and navel and legs and thighs, firm and clear as crystal and softer than cream; whereupon the bystanders exclaimed, "By Allah, it is good!" And made such a noise, that Bedreddin awoke and finding himself lying at the gate of a city, in the midst of a crowd of people, was astonished and said to them, "O good people, where am I, and why do you crowd round me thus?" "We found thee lying here asleep, at the time of the call to morning-prayer," replied they, "and this is all we know of the matter. Where didst thou lie last night?" "By Allah, good people," answered he, "I lay last night in Cairo!" Quoth one, "Thou hast eaten hashish." And another, "Thou art mad; how couldst thou lie yesternight in Cairo and awake this morning in Damascus?" "By Allah, good people," rejoined he, "I do not lie to you; indeed I lay last night in the city of Cairo and yesterday I was in Bassora." "Good," said one; and another, "This youth is mad." And they clapped their hands at him and said to each other, "Alack, the pity of his youth! By Allah, there is no doubt of his madness." Then said they to him, "Collect thyself and return to thy senses. How couldst thou be in Bassora yesterday and in Cairo last night and yet awake in Damascus this morning?" But he said, "Indeed, I was a bridegroom in Cairo last night." "Doubtless thou hast been dreaming," rejoined they, "and hast seen all this in sleep." So he bethought himself awhile, then said to them, "By Allah, it was no dream! I certainly went to Cairo and they displayed the bride before me, in the presence of the hunchback. By Allah, O my brethren, this was no dream; or if it was a dream, where is the purse of gold I had with me and my turban and trousers and the rest of my clothes?" Then he rose and entered the town and passed through its streets and markets; but the people followed him and pressed on him, crying out, "Madman! Madman!" till he took refuge in a cook's shop. Now this cook had been a robber and a sharper, but God had made him repent and turn from his evil ways and open a cookshop; and all the people of Damascus stood in awe of him and feared his mischief. So when they saw Bedreddin enter his shop, they dispersed for fear of him and went their ways. The cook looked at Bedreddin and noting his beauty and grace, fell in love with him and said to him, "Whence comest thou, O youth? Tell me thy case, for thou art become to me dearer than my soul." So Bedreddin told him all that had befallen him from first to last; and the cook said, "O my lord Bedreddin, this is indeed a strange thing and a rare story; but, O my son, keep thy case secret, till God grant thee relief, and abide here with me meanwhile, for I am childless and will adopt thee as my son." And Bedreddin answered, "I will well, O uncle." With this the cook went to the bazaar, where he bought him a handsome suit of clothes and made him put it on, then carried him to the Cadi and formally acknowledged him as his son. So Bedreddin passed in Damascus for the cook's son and abode with him, sitting in the shop to take the money.

To return to the Lady of Beauty. When the day broke and she awoke from sleep, she missed Bedreddin from her side and thought he had gone to the lavatory, so lay expecting him awhile, when behold, her father entered. Now he was sore at heart by reason of what had passed between him and the Sultan and for that he had married his daughter by force to one of his servants, and he a lump of a hunchbacked groom; and he said to himself, "If she have suffered this damnable fellow to possess her, I will kill her." So he came to the door of the alcove and cried out, "Ho, Lady of Beauty!" She replied, "Here am I, O my lord"; and came out tottering for joy, with a face whose brightness and beauty had redoubled for that she had lain in the arms of that gazelle,[FN#64] and kissed the ground before her father. When the Vizier saw her thus, he said to her, "O accursed woman, dost thou rejoice in this groom?" At these words, the Lady of Beauty smiled and said, "O my lord, let what happened yesterday suffice, when all the folk were laughing at me and flouting me with that groom, who is not worth the paring of one of my husband's nails. By Allah, I never in all my life passed a pleasanter night! So do not mock me by reminding me of that hunchback." When her father heard this, he was filled with rage and glared at her, saving, "Out on thee! what words are these? It was the hunchbacked groom that lay with thee." "For God's sake," replied the Lady of Beauty, "do not mention him to me, may God curse his father! And mock me not, for the groom was only hired for ten dinars to conjure the evil eye from us, and he took his hire and departed. As for me, I entered the bridal chamber, where I found my true husband sitting in the alcove, him before whom the singers had unveiled me and who flung them the red gold by handsful, till he made all the poor there rich; and I passed the night in the arms of my sprightly husband, with the black eyes and joined eyebrows." When her father heard this, the light in his eyes became darkness, and he cried out at her, saying, "O wanton, what is this thou sayest? Where are thy senses?" "O my father," rejoined she, "thou breakest my heart with thy persistence in making mock of me! Indeed, my husband, who took my maidenhead, is in the wardrobe and I am with child by him." The Vizier rose, wondering, and entered the draught-house, where he found the hunchbacked groom with his head in the slit and his heels in the air. At this sight he was confounded and said, "This is none other than the hunchback." So he called to him, "Hallo, hunchback!" The groom made no answer but a grunt, thinking it was the Afrit who spoke to him. But the Vizier cried out at him, saying, "Speak, or I will cut off thy head with this sword." Then said the hunchback, "By Allah, O Chief of the Afrits, I have not lifted my head since thou didst set me here; so, God on thee, have mercy on me!" "What is this thou sayest?" quoth the Vizier. "I am no Afrit; I am the father of the bride." "It is enough that though hast already gone nigh to make me lose my life," replied the hunchback, "go thy ways ere he come upon thee who served me thus. Could ye find none to whom to marry me but the mistress of an Afrit and the beloved of a buffalo? May God curse him who married me to her and him who was the cause of it?" Then said the Vizier to him, "Come, get up out of this place." "Am I mad," answered the groom, "that I should go with thee without the Afrit's leave? He said to me, 'When the sun rises, get up and go thy way.' So has the sun risen or no? for I dare not budge till then." "Who brought thee hither?" asked the Vizier; and the hunchback replied, "I came here last night to do an occasion, when behold, a mouse came out of the water and squeaked and grew to a buffalo and spoke to me words that entered my ears. Then he left me here and went away, accursed be the bride and he who married me to her!" The Vizier went up to him and set him on his feet; and he went out, running, not crediting that the sun had risen, and repaired to the Sultan, to whom he related what had befallen him with the Afrit. Meanwhile, the Vizier returned to the bride's chamber, troubled in mind about his daughter, and said to her, "O my daughter, expound thy case to me." "O my father," answered she, "what more can I tell thee? Indeed, the bridegroom, he before whom they displayed me yesterday, lay with me all night and took my virginity, and I am with child by him. If thou believe me not, there is his turban, just as he left it, on the settle, and his trousers under the bed, with I know not what wrapped up in them." When her father heard this, he entered the alcove and found Bedreddin's turban; so he took it up and turning it about, said, "This is a Vizier's turban, except that it is of the Mosul cut."[FN#65] Then he perceived an amulet sewn in the cap of the turban so he unsewed the lining and took it out; then took the trousers, in which was the purse of a thousand dinars. In the latter he found the duplicate of Bedreddin's docket of sale to the Jew, naming him as Bedreddin Hassan, son of Noureddin Ali of Cairo. No sooner had he read this, than he cried out and fell down in a swoon; and when he revived, he wondered and said, "There is no god but God the Omnipotent! O my daughter, dost thou know who took thy maidenhead?" "No," answered she; and he said, "It was thy cousin, my brother's son, and these thousand dinars are thy dowry' Glory be to God! Would I knew how this had come about!" Then he opened the amulet and found therein a paper in the handwriting of his brother Noureddin; and when he saw his writing, he knew it and kissed it again and again, weeping and making moan for his brother. Then he read the scroll and found in it a record of the dates of Noureddin's marriage with the Vizier's daughter of Bassora, his going in to her, her conception and the birth of Bedreddin Hassan, and the history of his brother's life till his death. At this he wondered and was moved to joy and comparing the dates with those of his own marriage and the birth of his daughter the Lady of Beauty, found that they agreed in all respects. So he took the scroll and carrying it to the Sultan, told him the whole story from first to last, at which the King wondered and commanded the case to be at once set down in writing. The Vizier abode all that day awaiting his nephew, but he came not; and when seven days were past and he could learn nothing of him, he said, "By Allah, I will do a thing that none has done before me!" So he took pen and ink and paper and drew a plan of the bride-chamber, showing the disposition of all the furniture therein, as that the alcove was in such a place, this or that curtain in another, and so on with all that was in the room. Then he folded the paper and laid it aside, and causing all the furniture to be taken up and stored away, took Bedreddin's purse and turban and clothes and locked them up with an iron padlock, on which he set a seal, against his nephew's coming. As for the Lady of Beauty, she accomplished the months of her pregnancy and bore a son like the full moon, resembling his father in beauty and grace. They cut his navel and blackened his eyelids with kohl[FN#66] and committed him to the nurses, naming him Agib. His day was as a month and his month as a year, and when seven years had passed over him, his grandfather sent him to school, bidding the master teach him to read the Koran and give him a good education; and he remained at the school four years, till he began to bully the little ones and beat them and abuse them, saying, "Which of you is like me? I am the son of the Vizier of Egypt." At last the children came, in a body, to complain to the monitor of Agib's behavior to them, and he said, "I will tell you how to do with him, so that he shall leave coming to the school and you shall never see him again. It is this: when he comes to-morrow, sit down round him and let one of you say to the others, 'By Allah, none shall play at this game except he tell us the names of his father and mother; for he who knows not his parents' names is a bastard and shall not play with us.'" So next day, when Agib came to the school, they all assembled round him, and one of them said, "We will play a game, in which no one shall join except he tell us the names of his father and mother." And they all said, "By Allah, it is good." Then said one of them, "My name is Majid, my mother's name is Alawiyeh and my father's Izeddin." And the others said the like, till it came to Agib's turn and he said, "My name is Agib, my mother is the Lady of Beauty and my father Shemseddin, Vizier of Egypt." "By Allah," cried they, "the Vizier is not thy father." Said he, "He is indeed my father." Then they all laughed and clapped their hands at him, saying, "He does not know his father! Arise and go out from us, for none shall play with us, except he know his father's name." Thereupon they dispersed from around him and laughed him to scorn, leaving him choked with tears and mortification. Then said the monitor to him, "O Agib, knowst thou not that the Vizier is thy mother's father, thy grandfather and not thy father? As for thy father, thou knowest him not nor do we, for the Sultan married thy mother to a humpbacked groom; but the Jinn came and lay with her, and thou hast no known father. Wherefore, do thou leave evening thyself with the boys in the school, till thou know who is thy father; for till then thou wilt pass for a misbegotten brat amongst them. Dost thou not see that the huckster's son knows his own father? Thy grandfather is the Vizier of Egypt, but as for thy father, we know him not, and we say, thou hast no father. So return to thy senses." When Agib heard the insulting words of the children and the monitor, he went out at once and ran to his mother, to complain to her; but his tears would not let him speak awhile. When she heard his sobs and saw his tears, her heart was on fire for him and she said to him, "O my son, why dost thou weep? Tell me what is the matter." So he told her what the children and the monitor had said and said to her, "Who is my father, O my mother?" "Thy father is the Vizier of Egypt," answered she; but he said, "Do not lie to me. The Vizier is thy father, not mine. Who then is my father? Except thou tell me the truth, I will kill myself with this dagger." When the Lady of Beauty heard him speak of his father, she wept, as she thought of her cousin and her bridal-night, and repeated the following verses:

Love in my breast, alas! they lit and went away; Far distant is
     the camp that holds my soul's delight!
Patience and reason fled from me, when they withdrew; Sleep
     failed me, and despair o'ercame me like a blight.
They left me, and with them departed all my joy; Tranquility and
     peace with them have taken flight.
They made my lids run down with tears of love laid waste; My eyes
     for lack of them brim over day and night.
When as my sad soul longs to see them once again And waiting and
     desire are heavy on my spright;
Midmost my heart of hearts their images I trace, Love and
     desireful pain and longing for their sight.
O ye, one thought of whom clings round me like a cloak, Whose
     love it as a shirt about my body dight,
O my beloved ones, how long will ye delay? How long must I endure
     estrangement and despite?

Then she wept and cried out and her son did the like, when in came the Vizier, whose heart burned within him at the sight of their weeping, and he said, "Why do ye weep?" The Lady of Beauty told him what had happened to Agib, and the Vizier also wept and called to mind his brother and all that had passed between them and what had befallen his daughter, and knew not the secret of the matter. Then he rose at once and going to the Divan, related the matter to the Sultan and begged his leave to travel eastward to the city of Bassora and enquire for his nephew. Moreover, he besought him for letters-patent, authorizing him to take Bedreddin, wherever he should find him. And he wept before the King, who took pity on him and wrote him royal letters-patent to his deputies in all his provinces; whereat the Vizier rejoiced and called down blessings on him. Then taking leave of him, he returned to his house, where he equipped himself and his daughter and grandson for the journey, and set out and travelled till he came to the city of Damascus and found it rich in trees and waters, even as says the poet:

I mind me a night and a day spent in Damascus town, (Time swore
     'twould ne'er again their like to man outmete).
We lay in its languorous glades, where the careless calm of the
     night And the morn, with its smiling eyes and its
     twy-coloured tresses, meet.
The dew to its branches clings like a glittering chain of pearl,
     Whose jewels the zephyr smites and scatters beneath his
     feet.
The birds on the branches chant from the open book of the lake;
     The breezes write on the scroll and the clouds mark the
     points, as they fleet.

The Vizier alighted without the city and pitched his tents in an open space called the Plain of Pebbles, saying to his servants, "We will rest here two days." So they went down into the city upon their several occasions, this to sell, that to buy, another to go to the bath and a fourth to visit the Mosque of the Ommiades, whose like is not in the world. Agib also went into the city to look about him, followed by an eunuch, carrying a knotted cudgel of almond-tree wood, wherewith if one smote a camel, it would not rise again. When the people of the city saw Agib's beauty and symmetry (for he was a marvel of loveliness and winning grace, blander than the Northern zephyr,[FN#67] sweeter than limpid water to the thirsty and more delightful than recovery to the sick), a great concourse of folk followed him, whilst others ran on before and sat down in the road, against he should come up, that they might gaze on him, till, as Fate would have it, the eunuch stopped before the shop of Bedreddin Hassan. Now the cook was dead and Bedreddin, having been formally adopted by him, had succeeded to his shop and property; and in the course of the twelve years that had passed over him, his beard had grown and his understanding ripened. When his son and the eunuch stopped before him, he had just finished preparing a mess of pomegranate-seed, dressed with sugar; and when he looked at Agib and saw how beautiful he was, his heart throbbed, blood drew to blood and his bowels yearned to him. So he called to him and said, "O my lord, O thou that hast gotten the mastery of my heart and my soul, thou to whom my bowels yearn, wilt thou not enter my shop and solace my heart by eating of my food?" And the tears welled up, uncalled, from his eyes, and he bethought him of his former estate and compared it with his present condition. When Agib heard his words his heart yearned to him, and he said to the eunuch, "Indeed, my heart inclines to this cook, and meseems he hath lost a child, so let us enter and gladden his soul by partaking of his hospitality. Perhaps God may requite us our kindness to him by reuniting us with my father." "By Allah!" replied the eunuch, "it were a fine thing for a Vizier's son to eat in a cookshop! Indeed, I keep off the folk with this stick, lest they look too closely on thee, and I dare not let thee enter a shop." When Bedreddin heard these words, he wondered and turned to the eunuch, with the tears running down his cheeks, and Agib said to the latter, "Indeed, my heart yearns for him." But he answered, "Leave this talk; indeed, thou shalt not go in." Then Bedreddin turned to the eunuch and said, "O noble sir, why wilt thou not gladden my soul by entering my shop? O thou who art as a chestnut, black without, but with a white heart,[FN#68] thou of whom the poet says ……….." The eunuch laughed and said, "What? Say on, by Allah, and be quick about it." So Bedreddin repeated the following verses:

Were he not polished and discreet and worthy of all trust, He in
     kings' houses would not be advanced to high estate.
O what a guardian he is for a seraglio! The very angels of the
     skies delight on him to wait.

This pleased the eunuch, who laughed and taking Agib by the hand, entered the shop with him. Bedreddin ladled out a dishful of pomegranate-seed, conserved with almonds and sugar, and set it before them, saying, "Ye do me honour. Eat and may health and enjoyment attend you!" And Agib said to him, "Sit down and eat with us, so haply God may unite us with him for whom we long." "O my son," said Bedreddin, "hast thou then suffered the loss of friends, at thy tender age?" "Yes, O uncle!" answered Agib, "my heart irks me for the loss of a beloved one, who is none other than my father; and indeed my grandfather and myself have come forth to seek for him throughout the world. Alas I how I sigh to be united with him!" Then he wept sore, whilst Bedreddin wept at the sight of his tears and for his bereavement, which recalled to him his own separation from those he loved and from his father and mother, and the eunuch was moved to pity for him. Then they ate together till they were satisfied, and Agib and the eunuch rose and left the shop. At this, Bedreddin felt as if his soul had departed his body and gone with them, for he could not live a moment without their sight, albeit he knew not that Agib was his son. So he rose and shutting his shop, hastened after them and overtook them before they went out at the great gate. The eunuch turned and said to him, "What dost thou want?" "When you left me," replied Bedreddin, "meseemed my soul had quitted my body, and as I had an occasion without the city, I thought to bear you company till I had done my business and so return." The eunuch was vexed and said to Agib, "This is what I feared. Because we entered this fellow's shop and ate that unlucky mouthful, he thinks he has a right to presume upon us, for see, he follows us from place to place." Agib turned and seeing the cook following him, reddened for anger and said to the eunuch, "Let him walk in the high road of the Muslims; but if he follow us when we turn aside to our tents, we will drive him away." Then he bowed his head and walked on, with the eunuch behind him. When they came to the Plain of Pebbles and drew near their tents, Agib turned and saw Bedreddin still following him; whereat he was enraged, fearing least the eunuch should tell his grandfather and vexed that it should be said he had entered a cookshop and the cook had followed him. So he looked at Bedreddin and found his eyes fixed on him, for he was as it were a body without a soul; and it seemed to Agib that his eye was that of a knave or a lewd fellow. So his rage redoubled and he took up a stone and threw it at Bedreddin. It struck him on the forehead and cut it open; and he fell down in a swoon, with the blood streaming down his face, whilst Agib and the eunuch made for the tents. When he came to himself, he wiped away the blood and tore off a piece of the muslin of his turban, with which he bound his head, blaming himself and saying, "I wronged the lad in closing my shop and following him, so that he thought I was some lewd fellow." Then he returned to his shop, where he busied himself with the sale of his meats; and he yearned after his mother at Bassora and wept over her and recited the following verses:

If thou demand fair play of Fate, therein thou dost it wrong; And
     blame it not, for twas not made, indeed, for equity.
Take what lies ready to thy hand and lay concern aside, For
     troubled days and days of peace in life must surely be.

Meanwhile, the Vizier, his uncle, tarried in Damascus three days, then departed for Hems, and passing through that city, fared on by way of Hemah and Aleppo and thence through Diarbekir, Maridin and Mosul, making enquiries at every place he came to, till he arrived at Bassora, where he halted and presented himself before the Sultan, who received him with honour and consideration and asked the reason of his coming. The Vizier related to him his history and told him that Noureddin Ali was his brother, whereupon the Sultan commended the latter's soul to the mercy of God and said, "Sir, he was my Vizier for fifteen years, and I loved him greatly. Then he died, leaving a son, who abode here but two months after his father's death; since which time he hath disappeared and we have never come upon any news of him. But his mother, who was the daughter of my former Vizier, is still with us." Shemseddin rejoiced to hear that his nephew's mother was still alive and said, "O King, I wish to see her." The King at once gave him leave to visit her; so he betook himself to his brother Noureddin's house and went round about it and kissed its threshold. And he bethought him of his brother and how he had died in a strange land and wept and repeated the following verses:

I wander through the halls, the halls where Leila lived, And kiss
     the lifeless walls that of her passage tell.
It is not for the house that I with passion burn, But for the
     cherished ones that erst therein did dwell.

Then he entered the gate and found himself in a spacious courtyard, at the end whereof was a door vaulted over with hard stone, inlaid with vari-coloured marbles. He walked round about the house, and casting his eyes on the walls, saw the name of his brother Noureddin written on them in letters of gold. So he went up to the inscription and kissed it and wept for his brother's loss and repeated the following verses:

I sue unto the rising sun, each morn, for news of thee, And of
     the lightning's lurid gleam I do for thee enquire.
The hands of passion and of pain sport with me all the night; Yet
     I complain not of the ills I suffer from desire.
O my beloved, if the times be yet for me prolonged, be all
     consumed with separation's fire.
Lo! if thy sight one happy day should bless my longing eyes,
     There is no other thing on earth that I of Fate require.
Think not that other loves avail to solace me for thee; My heart
     can hold no love but thine, my faith can never tire.

Then he walked on till he came to the lodging of his brother's widow. Now from the day of her son's disappearance, she had given herself up to weeping and lamentation day and night; and when the years grew long upon her, she made him a tomb of marble midmost the saloon and there wept for him day and night, sleeping not but thereby. When the Vizier drew near her apartment, he heard her weeping and repeating verses, so he went in to her and saluting her, informed her that he was her husband's brother and told her all that had passed between them, and how her son Bedreddin Hassan had spent a whole night with his daughter, twelve years ago, but had disappeared in the morning, and how she had conceived by him and borne a son, whom he had brought with him. When Bedreddin's mother heard this news of her son and grandson and that the former was haply still alive and saw her husband's brother, she threw herself at his feet and kissed them, repeating the following verses:

May God be good to him who brought me news that they were come;
     For never more delightful news unto my ears were borne.
If he would take a worn-out weds for boon, I'd proffer him A
     heart that at the parting hour was all to pieces torn.

Then the Vizier sent for Agib; and his grandmother embraced him and wept, but Shemseddin said to her, "This is no time for weeping; it behoves thee to make ready to go with us to Egypt; perhaps God will reunite us with thy son, my nephew." "I hear and obey," answered she, and rising at once, collected her goods and treasures and equipped herself and her handmaids for the journey, whilst the Vizier went to take his leave of the Sultan of Bassora, who sent by him gifts and rarities to the Sultan of Egypt. Then he set out at once on his homeward journey and travelled till he came to Damascus, where he halted and pitched his tents as before, saying to his suite, "We will halt here a week, to buy presents and curiosities for the Sultan." Now the tie of blood drew Agib to his father, so he said to the eunuch, "O Laic, I have a mind to go a-walking; so come, let us go down into the streets of Damascus and see what is become of the cook whose victuals we ate and whose head we broke, for indeed he was kind to us and we used him scurvily." The eunuch replied, "I hear and obey." So they left the tents and going down into the city, stayed not till they came to the cookshop, where they found Bedreddin Hassan standing at the door. It was near the time of afternoon-prayer, and as chance would have it, he had just prepared a mess of pomegranate-seed. Agib looked at him and saw the scar of the blow on his forehead; wherefore his heart yearned to him and he said, "Peace be on thee! Know that my heart is with thee." When Bedreddin saw him, his bowels were troubled and his heart throbbed, and he bowed his head and would have spoken, but could not. Then he raised his head and looked at his son humbly and imploringly and repeated the following verses:

I longed to look on him I love; but when I saw his face, I was as
     one amazed and lost the use of tongue and eyes.
I bowed my head down to his feet for reverence and awe, And would
     have hidden what I felt, but could it not disguise.
Volumes of plaining and reproach I had within my heart; Yet, when
     we met, no word I spoke nor uttered aught but sighs.

Then he said to them, "Heal my heart and eat of my food, for, by Allah, I cannot look at you but my heart throbs! I should not have followed you the other day, but that I was beside myself." "By Allah," replied Agib, "thou art too fond of us! We ate with thee before and thou madest us repent of it, in that thou followedst us and wouldst have put us to shame; so we will not eat with thee, except thou swear not to go out after us nor follow us. Else we will not visit thee again during our present stay, for we abide here a week, that my grandfather may take presents for the King." And Bedreddin said, "I grant you this." So Agib and the eunuch entered, and Bedreddin set before them a dish of pomegranate-seed. Quoth Agib, "Sit down and eat with us, so haply God may grant us relief." At this Bedreddin was glad and sat down and ate with them, with his eyes fixed on Agib's face, for indeed his heart and entrails were taken with his love, till the boy said to him, "What a tiresome dotard thou art! Leave thy staring in my face." When Bedreddin heard this, he repeated the following verses:

Thy face excites in all men's hearts a love they do not own;
     Folded in silence and concealed, it may not be made known.
O thou whose beauty puts to shame the splendour of the moon,
     Whose grace recalls the shining sight of morning newly
     blown,
In thy bright visage is a sign that may not be fulfilled, And
     there all beauties that incite to tenderness are shown.
Must I then die of thirst, what while thy lips with nectar flow?
     Thy face is Paradise to me; must I in hell-fire groan?

So they ate till they were satisfied, when Bedreddin rose and poured water on their hands, wiping them with a napkin of silk, which he loosed from his waist; after which he sprinkled rose-water on them from a casting-bottle he had by him. Then he went out and returned with a pitcher of sherbet, flavoured with rose-water and musk, which he set before them, saying, "Complete your favours to me, by drinking of this sherbet." So Agib took the pitcher and drank and passed it to the eunuch, and it went round amongst them till their stomachs were full, for they had eaten and drunken beyond their wont. Then they went away and made haste in walking till they reached the tents, and Agib went in to his grandmother, who kissed him, and thinking of her son Bedreddin Hassan, wept and repeated the following verses:

But for my hope that God would yet our severed loves unite, I had
     not lived for life to me is void of all delight.
I swear there's nothing in my heart but love of thee alone, By
     God, who reads the heart and brings the hidden things to
     light!

And she said to Agib, "O my son, where hast thou been?" Quoth he, "We have been in the city of Damascus. Then she rose and set before him confection of pomegranate-seed and said to the eunuch, "Sit down and eat with thy young master." The eunuch said to himself, "By Allah, we have no mind to eat!" but he sat down, and so did Agib, though his belly was full of what he had already eaten and drunk. Now the conserve lacked sugar, so he took a piece of bread and dipped it therein and ate, but found it insipid, for that he was already surfeited, and exclaimed, "Faugh! what is this nasty mess?" "O my son," said his grandmother, "dost thou find fault with my cookery? I cooked this myself, and there is not a cook in the land can compare with me, except it be thy father Bedreddin Hassan." "O my lady," replied Agib, "this thy dish is naught; for we saw but now in the city a cook who dresses pomegranate-seed, so that the very smell of it opens the heart and the taste would give a full man an appetite; and as for thy mess, compared with his, it is worth neither much nor little." When his grandmother heard this, she was exceeding wroth and said to the eunuch, "Out on thee, dost thou corrupt my grandson and take him into cookshops?" The eunuch was frightened and denied, saying, "We did not enter the shop, but only saw it in passing." "By Allah!" said Agib, "we went in and ate, and it was better than thine." Then his grandmother rose and went and told her brother-in-law, who was incensed against the eunuch and sending for him, said to him, "Why didst thou take my son into a cookshop?" "We did not go in," replied the eunuch. But Agib said, "We did go in and ate of pomegranate-seed, till we were full; and the cook gave us to drink of iced sherbet of sugar." At this, the Vizier's anger redoubled and he questioned the eunuch, but he still denied. Then said the Vizier, "If what thou sayest be true, sit down and eat before us." So he sat down and tried to eat, but could not and threw away the morsel, saying, "O my lord, indeed I am full since yesterday." By this, the Vizier knew that he had eaten at the cook's and bade his slaves throw him down and beat him. So they drubbed him, till he roared for mercy and said, "O my lord, do not beat me, and I will tell thee the truth." Whereupon the Vizier stopped the beating and said, "Speak the truth." Quoth the eunuch, "Know then that we did enter the shop of a cook, who was dressing pomegranate seed, and he set some of it before us; by Allah, I never ate the like of it in my life, nor did I ever taste aught nastier than that which is before us!" Bedreddin's mother was enraged at this and said to the eunuch, "Thou must go back to the cook and fetch us a dish of his pomegranate-seed and show it to thy master, that he may say which is the better, his or mine." "Good," answered he. So she gave him a dish and half a dinar, and he returned to the shop and said to Bedreddin, "We have made a wager about thy cookery in our lord's household, for they have pomegranate-seed there also; so give me half a dinar's worth of thy confection and let it be of thy best, for I have eaten my bellyful of stick on account of thy cookery." Bedreddin laughed and answered, "By Allah, none can dress this dish aright but myself and my mother, and she is far away." Then he filled the dish with pomegranate-seed and finishing it off with musk and rose-water, gave it to the eunuch, who hastened back with it and delivered it to Bedreddin's mother. No sooner had she tasted it and remarked the excellence of its flavour and cookery, than she knew who had dressed it and shrieked and fell down in a swoon, to the amazement of the Vizier, who sprinkled rose-water on her, till she came to herself and said, "If my son be yet of this world, none made this conserve but he! Without doubt, this cook is my son Bedreddin Hassan, for none knew how to dress this dish but he and I, and I taught him." The Vizier rejoiced greatly at her words, and said, "O how I long to see my brother's son! I wonder if the days will indeed reunite us with him! But it is to God alone that we look for reunion with him." Then he went out forthright and said to his men, "Let twenty of you go to the cook's shop and demolish it; then tie his hands behind him with the linen of his turban, saying, 'It was thou madest that vile mess of pomegranate-seed,' and bring him hither by force, but without doing him any hurt." And they replied, "It is well." Then he mounted and riding to the palace, foregathered with the Viceroy of Damascus and showed him the Sultan's letters-patent. He kissed them and laying them on his head, said to the Vizier, "Who is it hath offended against thee?" Quoth the Vizier, "He is a cook of this city." So the Viceroy at once despatched his chamberlains to the shop and they went thither and found it in ruins and everything in it broken; for whilst the Vizier was at the palace, his men had done his bidding and carried Bedreddin to the tents, where they were then awaiting their master's return, whilst Bedreddin said, "I wonder what they can have found in the pomegranate-seed to bring matters to this pass!" When the Vizier returned to the tents, after having gotten the Viceroy's permission to take his debtor and depart with him, he called for the cook, and they brought Bedreddin before him, with his hands bound behind his back. When he saw his uncle, he wept sore and said, "O my lord, what is my offence against thee?" "Art thou he who made the mess of pomegranate-seed?" asked Shemseddin. "Yes," replied Bedreddin; "didst thou find aught in it to call for the cutting off of my head?" Quoth the Vizier, "That were the least of thy desert." "O my lord," said Bedreddin, "wilt thou not tell me my crime and what ails the pomegranate-seed?" "Presently," answered the Vizier and called to his men, saying, "Bring the camels." So they struck camp and the Vizier caused Bedreddin to be put into a chest, which they locked and set on a camel. Then they departed and journeyed till nightfall, when they halted to eat and took Bedreddin out of his chest and fed him and locked him up again. Then they set out again and travelled till they reached Kumreh, where they took him out of the chest and brought him before the Vizier, who said to him, "Art thou he who made the mess of pomegranate-seed?" "Yes, O my lord," answered he; and Shemseddin said, "Shackle him." So they shackled him and returned him to the chest and fared on again, till they arrived at Cairo and halted in the suburb of Er Reidaniyeh. Then the Vizier commanded to take Bedreddin out of his chest and sent for a carpenter, to whom he said, "Make a cross[FN#69] of wood for this fellow." Quoth Bedreddin, "What wilt thou do with it?" "I mean to nail thee upon it," replied the Vizier, "and parade thee throughout the city." "And why wilt thou use me thus? asked Bedreddin; and the Vizier answered, "Because of thy villainous mess of pomegranate-seed and for that it lacked pepper." "And because it lacked pepper," said Bedreddin, "wilt thou do all this to me? Is it not enough that thou hast laid my shop in ruins and smashed my gear and imprisoned me and fed me but once a day?" "It lacked pepper," answered the Vizier; "and nothing less than death is thy desert." At this Bedreddin wondered and mourned for himself, till the Vizier said to him, "Of what art thou thinking?" "I was thinking of crack-brains like unto thee," answered Bedreddin, "for hadst thou any sense, thou wouldst not treat me thus." Quoth the Vizier, "It behoves me to punish thee, lest thou do the like again." And Bedreddin said, "Verily, my offence were over-punished by the least of what thou hast already done to me." "It avails not," answered Shemseddin; "I must crucify thee." All this time the carpenter was shaping the cross, whilst Bedreddin looked on; and thus they did till nightfall, when the Vizier took him and clapped him in the chest, saying, "The thing shall be done tomorrow." Then he waited till he knew Bedreddin to be asleep, when he mounted and taking the chest up before him, rode into the town to his own house, where he alighted and said to his daughter, the Lady of Beauty, "Praised be God who hath reunited thee with thy cousin! Arise and order the house as it was on thy wedding-night." So the servants arose and lit the candles, whilst the Vizier took out his plan of the bride chamber and directed them what to do, till they had set everything in its place, so that whoever saw it would not doubt but it was the very night of the wedding. Then he made them lay Bedreddin's turban on the stool, where he had left it, and his trousers and purse under the mattress, and bade his daughter undress herself and go to bed, as on the wedding-night, adding, "When he comes in to thee, say to him, 'Thou has tarried long in the wardrobe,' and call him to lie with thee and hold him in converse till the morning, when we will explain the whole matter to him." Then he took Bedreddin out of the chest and laid him in the vestibule, after he had unbound him and taken off his clothes, leaving him in a shirt of fine silk, and he still asleep and knowing nothing. Presently he turned over and awoke, and finding himself in a lighted vestibule, said to himself, "Surely, I am dreaming." Then he rose and opening the inner door, found himself in the chamber, where he had passed his wedding-night, and knew the alcove and the stool by the bed-side, with his turban and clothes. When he saw this, he was confounded and advanced one foot and drew the other back, saying, "Am I asleep or awake?" And he began to rub his forehead and say, wondering, "By Allah, this is the chamber of the bride that was unveiled before me! But where can I be? I was surely but now in a chest." Whilst he was debating with himself, the Lady of Beauty lifted the curtain of the alcove and said to him, "O my lord, wilt thou not come in? Thou hast tarried long in the wardrobe." When he heard what she said and saw her face, he laughed and said, "This is certainly an imbroglio of dreams!" Then he entered, sighing, and recalled what had happened and was perplexed, and his affair became confused to him and he knew not what to think. Presently, he caught sight of his turban and trousers, so he handled the latter and feeling the purse of a thousand dinars, said, "God alone is all knowing! I am certainly in the mazes of a dream." Then said the Lady of Beauty to him, "What ails thee to stand agape and seem perplexed? Thou wast not thus the first part of the night." He laughed and said to her, "How long have I been absent from thee?" "God preserve thee!" exclaimed she. "The name of God encompass thee! Thou didst but go out an hour ago to do an occasion and return. Hast thou lost thy wits?" When Bedreddin heard this, he laughed and said, "Thou art right; but when I went out from thee, I forgot myself in the closet and dozed and dreamt that I was a cook in Damascus and abode there twelve years and that there came to me a boy, the son of some great man, and with him an eunuch." Here he put his hand to his forehead and feeling the scar made by the stone, said, "By Allah, O lady, it must have been true, for here is the scar made by the stone, with which he smote me and cut my forehead open. So it would seem as if it had really happened. But perhaps I dreamt it, when we embraced and fell asleep together: for meseemed I journeyed to Damascus without turban or drawers and set up as a cook there." Then he was perplexed and considered awhile and said, "By Allah, I fancied also that I made a mess of pomegranate-seed and put too little pepper in it. By Allah, I must have slept in the closet and dreamt all this!" "God on thee," said the Lady of Beauty, "tell me what else thou didst dream." "By Allah," replied he, "had I not woke up, they would have nailed me to a cross of wood!" "Wherefore?" asked she; and he said, "Because of the lack of pepper in the pomegranate-seed. Meseemed they demolished my shop and broke my utensils in pieces and put me in a chest; then they sent for a carpenter to make a cross and would have crucified me thereon. But praised be God who caused all this to happen to me in sleep and not on wake!" The Lady of Beauty laughed and pressed him to her bosom, and he returned her caresses; then he thought again and said, "By Allah, I cannot help thinking it must have been a reality after all! Indeed I know not what to think of it all." Then he lay down and passed the night in a state of perplexity, saying now, "I was dreaming," and now, "I was awake," till the morning, when his uncle Shemseddin entered and saluted him. When Bedreddin saw him, he said to him, "By Allah, art thou not he who gave orders to bind me and demolish my shop and would have nailed me on a cross, and all because a mess of pomegranate-seed lacked pepper?" "O my son," replied the Vizier, "know that the truth has appeared and that which was hidden is divulged. Thou art my brother's son, and I did all this with thee but that I might certify myself that thou wast indeed he who lay with my daughter on her wedding-night. I could not be sure of this, till I saw that thou knewest the chamber and thy turban and clothes and purse and the scrolls in thy handwriting and that of my brother, for I had never seen thee and did not know thee; and I have brought thy mother with me from Bassora." So saying, he threw himself on him and they embraced and wept for excess of joy. Then said the Vizier to Bedreddin, "O my son, all this came of what passed between thy father and myself." And he told him what had taken place between them and the manner of his father's flight to Bassora; after which he sent for Agib, and when his father saw him, he exclaimed, "This is he who threw the stone at me!" Quoth the Vizier, "This is thy son." And Bedreddin threw himself on Agib and repeated the following verses:

Long time have I bewailed the sev'rance of our loves, With tears
     that from my lids streamed down like burning rain,
And vowed that, if the days should reunite us two, My lips should
     never speak of severance again.
Joy hath o'erwhelmed me so, that for the very stress Of that
     which gladdens me, to weeping I am fain.
Tears are become to you a habit, O my eyes! So that ye weep as
     well for gladness as for pain.

Presently, Bedreddin's mother came in and fell on him, repeating the following verses:

When we met, to each other we both did complain Of the manifold
     things that we each had to say;
For the lover's complaint of the anguish he feels The tongue of a
     messenger cannot convey.

Then she wept and related to him what had befallen her since his departure, and he told her what he had suffered and they thanked God the Most High for their reunion with one another. Two days after his arrival, the Vizier went in to the Sultan and kissing the earth before him, saluted him after the fashion of salutation to kings. The Sultan rejoiced at his return and received him with distinguished favour. Then he desired to hear what had befallen him in his travels; so the Vizier told him all that had passed, and the Sultan said, "Praised be God for that thou hast attained thy desire and returned in safety to thy kinsfolk and family! I must see thy brother's son, so do thou bring him to the Divan tomorrow." Shemseddin replied, "God willing, thy slave shall be present tomorrow." Then he saluted him and returning to his own house, informed his nephew of the King's wish to see him, to which Bedreddin replied, "The slave is obedient to his lord's commands." So next day he accompanied his uncle to the Divan and after saluting the Sultan in the most punctilious and elegant manner, repeated the following verses:

All ranks and classes kiss the earth, in homage to thy state, For
     lo I through thee their every wish is crowned with happy
     fate.
For thou the fount of honour art for those that hope in thee, And
     from thy hand the bounties flow that make there rich and
     great.

The Sultan smiled and signed to him to sit down. So he sat down beside the Vizier, and the King enquired his name. Quoth Bedreddin, "The meanest of thy slaves is known as Bedreddin Hassan of Bassora, who prays for thee day and night." The Sultan was pleased at his words and being minded to try him and prove his knowledge and good-breeding, said to him, "Dost thou remember any verses in praise of a mole on the cheek?" "Yes," replied Bedreddin, and repeated the following:

When I think of my loved one, the sighs from my breast Burst up
     and the tears to my eyes quickly start.
She's a mole, that resembles, in beauty and hue, The black of the
     eye and the core of the heart.

The Sultan liked these verses and said, "Let us have some more. Heaven bless thy sire! May thy tongue never tire!" So he repeated the following:

The mole's black spot upon her cheek they liken to a grain Of
     musk; yet wonder not at that, for wonder were in vain.
But rather wonder at her face, wherein all beauty is: There is no
     particle of grace that it doth not contain.

The Sultan shook with delight and said to him, "More! God bless thy life!" So he repeated the following:

O thou, the moles upon whose cheek recall Globules of musk upon
     cornelian strewed,
Grant me thy favours, be not hard of heart, O thou, my heart's
     desire, my spirit's food!

Then said the King, "Thou hast done well, O Hassan, and hast acquitted thyself most excellently. But tell me how many meanings hath the word khal[FN#70] in the Arabic language." "Fifty," replied Hassan, "and some say eight and-fifty." Quoth the King, "Thou art right. Canst thou tell me the points of excellence in beauty?" "Yes," answered Bedreddin, "Brightness of face, purity of skin, shapeliness in the nose, softness in the eyes, sweetness in the mouth, elegance in speech, slenderness of shape and quickness of wit; and the perfection of beauty is in the hair. And indeed Es Shihab el Hijazi has brought them all together in the following doggrel:

Say to the face, 'Be bright,' and to the skin, say, 'See, I show
     thee what befits thee best: 'tis purity.'
For elegance of shape the nose we chiefly prize, And languor soft
     it is, that best becomes the eyes.
Then say unto the mouth, 'Sweetness, but mark thou me; Let
     fragrancy of breath fail never unto thee.'
Chaste be the speech, the shape be slender and well knit, And
     quickness mark the thought, the manners and the wit.
Then say that in the hair is ever beauty's prime. Give ear to me
     and eke forgive my doggrel rhyme."

The Sultan rejoiced in his converse and said to him "What is the meaning of the popular saying, 'Shureih is more cunning than the fox'?" "Know, O King," answered Bedreddin, "may God aid thee! that Shureih[FN#71] was wont during the days of the plague, to go out to Nejef, and whenever he stood up to pray, there came a fox, which would plant itself over against him and distract him from his devotions by mimicking his movements. This went on for some time, till the man became weary of it; so one day he took off his shirt and put it on a cane and shook out the sleeves. Then he set his turban on top of the cane and tied a girdle round the middle of the effigy and planted it in the place where he used to say his prayers. Presently up came the fox, according to his wont, and stood over against the figure; whereupon Shureih came behind him and took him: hence the saying." When the Sultan heard Bedreddin's explanation, he said to his uncle Shemseddin, "Verily, this thy nephew is perfect in all kinds of culture. I do not believe that his like is to be found in Egypt." At this, Bedreddin arose and kissed the earth and sat down again in the posture of a servant before his master. When the Sultan had thus assured himself of his proficiency in the liberal arts, he rejoiced greatly and bestowing on him a splendid dress of honour, invested him with an office, whereby he might better his condition. Then Bedreddin arose and kissing the earth before the King, wished him enduring glory and craved leave to retire. The Sultan gave him leave; so he returned home with his uncle and they set food before them and they ate, after which Bedreddin repaired to his wife's apartment and told her what had passed between the Sultan and himself. Quoth she, "He cannot fail to make thee his boon-companion and load thee with favours and presents; and by the grace of God, the splendours of thy perfections shall shine like the greater light,[FN#72] wherever thou goest, by land or sea." Then said he, "I purpose to make an ode in the King's praise, that he may redouble in affection for me." "That is well thought," replied she. "Consider it well and word thy thought elegantly, and I doubt not but it will procure thee his favour." So Bedreddin shut himself up and composed the following verses, which he copied in an ornamental hand:

My King hath reached the height of lordlihead; The shining path
     of virtue he cloth tread.
His justice blocks the ways against his foes And peace and plenty
     showers on every stead.
Bold as a lion, pious, quick of wit, Angel or King,[FN#73] he's
     whichsoe'er is said.
He sends the suppliant content away. Words fail, indeed, to paint
     his goodlihead.
In time of gifts, he's like the brilliant moon; Like night, in
     battle, lowering and dread.
Our necks are girt with his munificence; He rules by favours on
     the noble shed.
May God prolong his life for our behoof And ward the blows of
     Fortune from his head.

When he had finished transcribing the poem, he despatched it by one of his uncle's slaves to the King, who perused it, and it gladdened his heart; so he read it out to those present before him and they praised it exceedingly. Then he sent for Bedreddin to his sitting-chamber and said to him, "Henceforth thou art my boon-companion and I appoint thee a stipend of a thousand dirhems a month, over and above what I have already given thee." So he arose and kissing the earth three times before the Sultan, wished him abiding glory and length of life. Then Bedreddin increased in honour and estate, so that his report spread into all countries, and he abode in the enjoyment of all the delights and comforts of life, he and his uncle and family, till Death overtook him.'

When the Khalif Haroun er Reshid heard this story from the mouth of his Vizier Jaafer, he wondered and said, 'It behoves that these stories be written in letters of gold.' Then he set the slave at liberty and assigned the young man who had killed his wife such a monthly allowance as sufficed to make his life easy. Moreover he gave him one of his female slaves to wife, and he became one of his boon-companions.

STORY OF THE HUNCHBACK

There lived once in the city of Bassora a tailor, who was openhanded and loved pleasure and merrymaking: and he was wont, he and his wife, to go out by times, a-pleasuring, to the public places of recreation. One day they went out as usual and were returning home in the evening, when they fell in with a hunchback, the sight of whom would make the disappointed laugh and dispel chagrin from the sorrowful. So they went up to look at him and invited him to go home and make merry with them that night. He consented and accompanied them to their house; whereupon, the night being now come, the tailor went out to the market and buying fried fish and bread and lemon and conserve of roses by way of dessert, set them before the hunchback, and they ate. Presently, the tailor's wife took a great piece of fish and cramming it into the hunchback's mouth, clapped her hand over it, saying, 'By Allah, thou must swallow it at one gulp; and I will give thee no time to chew it.' So he bolted it; but there was a great bone in it, which stuck in his gullet, and his hour being come, it choked him, and he died at once. When the tailor saw this, he exclaimed, 'There is no power and no virtue but in God! Alas, poor wretch, that he should have come by his death at our hands!' 'Why dost thou waste time in idle lamentation?' rejoined his wife. 'Hast thou not heard it said……?' And she repeated the following verses:

What ails me that I waste the time in idle grief, Until I find no
     friend mishap for me to bear?
Who but a fool would sit upon an unquenched fire? To wait upon
     mischance as great a folly were.

'What is to be done?' asked he; and she replied, 'Rise and take the hunchback in thine arms and cover him with a silk handkerchief: then go out with him, and I will go before thee: and if thou meet any one, say, "This is my son: his mother and I are taking him to the doctor, that he may look at him." So he rose and taking the hunchback in his arms, carried him along the streets, preceded by his wife, who kept saying, 'O my son, God keep thee! Where has this smallpox attacked thee and in what part dost thou feel pain?' So that all who saw them said, 'It is a child ill of smallpox.' They went along, enquiring for a doctor, till the people directed them to the house of one, who was a Jew. They knocked at the gate, and a black servant-maid came down and opened the door and seeing a man carrying a child and a woman with him, said to them, 'What is your business?' 'We have a sick child here,' answered the tailor's wife, 'whom we want the doctor to look at: so take this quarter-dinar and give it to thy master, and let him come down and see my son.' The girl went up to tell her master, leaving the tailor and his wife in the vestibule, whereupon the latter said to her husband, 'Let us leave the hunchback here and be off.' So the tailor carried the dead man to the top of the stairs and propping him up against the wall, went away, he and his wife. Meanwhile the serving-maid went in to the Jew and said to him, 'There are a man and a woman at the gate, with a sick child; and they have given me a quarter-dinar for thee, that thou mayst go down and see the child and prescribe for him.' When the Jew saw the quarter-dinar, he was glad and rose hastily and went down in the dark. Hardly had he made a step, when he stumbled on the dead body and threw it down, and it rolled to the bottom of the stairs. So he cried out to the girl to make haste with the light, and she brought it, whereupon he went down and examining the hunchback, found that he was dead. 'O Esdras and Moses and the ten Commandments!' exclaimed he; 'O Aaron and Joshua, son of Nun! I have stumbled against the sick person and he has fallen downstairs and is dead! How shall I get the body out of my house?' Then he took it up and carrying it into the house, told his wife what had happened. Quoth she, 'Why dost thou sit still? If he be found here when the day rises, we shall both of us lose our lives. Let us carry him up to the roof and throw him over into the house of our neighbour the Muslim; for if he abide there a night, the dogs will come down on him from the terraces and eat him all up.' Now the neighbour in question was controller of the Sultan's kitchen and was wont to bring home great store of fat and broken meats; but the cats and mice used to eat it, or, if the dogs scented a fat sheep's tail, they would come down from the roofs and tear at it; and in this way he lost much of what he brought home. So the Jew and his wife carried the hunchback up to the roof, and letting him down, through the windshaft, into the controller's house, stood him up against the wall and went away. Hardly had they done so, when the controller, who had been spending the evening with some of his friends, hearing a recitation of the Koran, came home and going up with a lighted candle, found a man standing in the corner, under the ventilator. When he saw this, he said, 'By Allah, this is a fine thing! He who steals my goods is none other than a man.' Then he turned to the hunchback and said to him, 'So it is thou that stealest the meat and fat. I thought it was the cats and dogs, and I kill the cats and dogs of the quarter and sin against them. And all the while it is thou comest down through the windshaft! But I will take my wreak of thee with my own hand.' So he took-a great cudgel and smote him on the breast, and he fell down. Then he examined him and finding that he was dead, cried out in horror, thinking that he had killed him, and said, 'There is no power and no virtue but in God the Supreme, the Omnipotent!' And he feared for himself and said, 'May God curse the fat and the sheep's tails, that have caused this man's death to be at my hand!' Then he looked at the dead man and seeing him to be humpbacked, said, 'Did it not suffice thee to be a hunchback, but thou must turn thief and steal meat and fat? O Protector, extend to me Thy gracious protection!' Then he took him up on his shoulders and going forth with him, carried him to the beginning of the market, where he set him on his feet against the wall of a shop, at the corner of a dark lane, and went away. After awhile, there came up a Christian, the Sultan's broker, who had sallied forth, in a state of intoxication, intending for the bath, for in his drunkenness he thought that matins were near. He came staggering along, till he drew near the hunchback and squatted down over against him to make water, when, happening to look round, he saw a man standing against the wall. Now some one had snatched off the broker's turban early in the night, and seeing the hunchback standing there he concluded that he meant to play him the same trick. So he clenched his fist and smote him on the neck. Down fell the hunchback, whilst the broker called to the watchman of the market and fell on the dead man, pummelling and throttling him in the excess of his drunken rage. Presently, the watchman came up and finding a Christian kneeling on a Muslim and beating him, said to the former, 'What is the matter?' 'This fellow tried to snatch off my turban,' answered the broker; and the watchman said, 'Get up from him.' So he rose, and the watchman went up to the hunchback and finding him dead, exclaimed, 'By Allah, it is a fine thing that a Christian should kill a Muslim!' Then he seized the broker and tying his hands behind him, carried him to the house of the prefect of police, where they passed the night; and all the while the broker kept saying, 'O Messiah! O Virgin! how came I to kill this man? Indeed, he must have been in a great hurry to die of one blow with the fist!' And his drunkenness left him and reflection came in its stead. As soon as it was day, the prefect came out and commanded to hang the supposed murderer and bade the executioner make proclamation of the sentence. So they set up a gallows, under which they made the broker stand, and the hangman put the rope round his neck and was about to hoist him up, when behold, the controller of the Sultan's kitchen, passing by, saw the broker about to be hanged, and pressing through the crowd, cried out to the executioner, saying, 'Stop! Stop! I am he who killed the hunchback.' Quoth the prefect, 'What made thee kill him?' And he replied, 'I came home last night and found this man who had come down the windshaft to steal my goods; so I struck him with a cudgel on the breast and he died. Then I took him up and carried him to the market and set him up against the wall in such a place. Is it not enough for me to have killed a Muslim, without burdening my conscience with the death of a Christian also? Hang therefore none but me.' When the prefect heard this, he released the broker and said to the executioner, 'Hang up this man on his own confession.' So he loosed the rope from the broker's neck and threw it round that of the controller, and placing him under the gallows, was about to hang him, when behold, the Jewish physician pushed through the press and cried out, 'Stop! It was I and none else who killed him! I was sitting at home last night, when a man and a woman knocked at the door, carrying this hunchback, who was sick, and gave my servant a quarter-dinar, bidding her give it to me and tell me to come down to see him. Whilst she was gone, they brought the hunchback into the house and setting him on the stairs, went away. Presently, I came down and not seeing him, stumbled on him in the dark, and he fell to the foot of the stair and died forthright. Then we took him up, I and my wife, and carried him on to the roof, whence we let him down, through the windshaft, into the house of this controller, which adjoins my own. When he came home and found the hunchback, he took him for a robber and beat him, so that he fell to the ground, and he concluded that he had killed him. So is it not enough for me to have killed one Muslim unwittingly, without burdening myself with the death of another wittingly?' When the prefect heard the Jew's story, he said to the hangman, 'Let the controller go, and hang the Jew.' So the hangman took the Jew and put the rope round his neck, when behold, the tailor pressed through the folk and cried out to him, 'Hold thy hand! None killed him save I, and it fell out thus. I had been out a-pleasuring yesterday and coming back in the evening, met this hunchback, who was drunk and singing lustily to a tambourine. So I carried him to my house and bought fish, and we sat down to eat. Presently, my wife took a piece of fish and crammed it down the hunchback's throat; but it went the wrong way and stuck in his gullet and choked him, so that he died at once. So we lifted him up, I and my wife, and carried him to the Jew's house, where the girl came down and opened the door to us, and I said to her, "Give thy master this quarter-dinar and tell him that there are a man and a woman at the door, who have brought a sick person for him to see." So she went in to tell her master, and whilst she was gone, I carried the hunchback to the top of the stair, where I propped him up, and went away with my wife. When the Jew came out, he stumbled over him and thought that he had killed him.' Then he said to the Jew, 'Is not this the truth?' 'It is,' replied the Jew. And the tailor turned to the prefect and said, 'Let the Jew go, and hang me.' When the prefect heard the tailor's story, he wondered at the adventure of the hunchback and exclaimed, 'Verily, this is a matter that should be recorded in books!' Then he said to the hangman, 'Let the Jew go, and hang the tailor on his own confession.' So the hangman took the tailor and put the rope round his neck, saying, 'I am tired of taking this man and loosing that, and no one hanged after all.'

Now the hunchback in question was the favourite buffoon of the Sultan, who could not bear him out of his sight: so when he got drunk and did not make his appearance that night or next day, the Sultan asked the courtiers about him and they replied, 'O our lord, the chief of the police has come upon him dead and ordered his murderer to be hanged: but, as the hangman was about to hoist him up, there came a second and a third and a fourth, each declaring himself to be the sole murderer and giving the prefect an account of the manner in which the crime had been committed.' When the King heard this, he cried out to one of his chamberlains, saying, 'Go down to the chief of the police and bring me all four of them.' So the chamberlain went down at once to the place of execution, where he found the hangman on the point of hanging the tailor and cried out to him to stop. Then he gave the King's order to the prefect, who took the tailor, the physician, the controller and the broker, and brought them all, together with the dead hunchback, before the King. When he came into the presence, he kissed the earth and told the King all that had passed; whereat he was moved to wonder and mirth and commended the story to be written in letters of gold, saying to the courtiers, 'Did you ever hear a more wonderful story than that of this hunchback?' With this came forward the Christian broker and said, 'O King of the age, with thy leave, I will tell thee a thing that happened to myself and which is still stranger and more wonderful and pleasant than the story of the hunchback.' Quoth the King, 'Let us hear it.' Then said the broker, 'O King of the age, I came to this city with merchandise, and Fate made me settle here with you, but

The Christian Broker's Story.

I am by birth a Copt, and a native of Cairo, where I was brought up. My father was a broker, and when I came to man's estate, he died and I became a broker in his stead. One day, as I was sitting in my shop, there came up to me a young man as handsome as could be, richly clad and riding on an ass. When he saw me, he saluted me, and I rose to do him honour. Then he pulled out a handkerchief, containing a sample of sesame, and said to me, "What is the worth of an ardebb[FN#74] of this?" "A hundred dirhems," replied I; and he said, "Take porters and measures and come to-morrow to the Khan of El Jaweli, by the Gate of Victory, where thou wilt find me." Then he went away, leaving with me the handkerchief containing the sample of sesame; and I went round to the buyers and agreed for a hundred and twenty dirhems an ardebb. Next day, I took four gaugers and carried them to the Khan, where I found him awaiting me. As soon as he saw me, he rose and opened his magazines, and we measured the contents and found them fifty ardebbs of sesame, making five thousand dirhems. Then said he to me, "Thou shalt have ten dirhems an ardebb to thy brokerage; so take the price and lay by four thousand five hundred dirhems for me; and when I have made an end of selling my other goods, I will come to thee and take the amount." "It is well," replied I, and kissed his hand and went away, having made that day a profit of a thousand dirhems, besides the brokerage. I saw no more of him for a month, at the end of which time he came to me and said, "Where is the money?" I rose and saluted him and said to him, "Wilt thou not eat somewhat with me?" But he refused, saying, "Get the money ready, and I will come back for it." So I brought out the money and sat down to await his return, but saw no more of him for another month, at the end of which time he came to me and said, "Where is the money?" I rose and saluted him and said, "Wilt thou not eat a morsel with me?" But he refused, saying, "Have the money ready against my return," and rode away. So I fetched the dirhems and sat awaiting him; but he did not come near me for another month, and I said, "Verily, this young man is the incarnation of liberality." At the end of the month, he came up, riding on a mule and clad in sumptuous raiment. His face shone like the moon at its full and he seemed as if he had just come from the bath, with his rosy cheeks and flower-white forehead and mole like a grain of ambergris, even as says the poet:

Within one mansion of the sky the sun and moon combine; With all
     fair fortune and delight of goodliness they shine.
Their beauty stirs all those that see to passion and to love:
     Good luck to them, for that they move to ravishment divine!
In grace and beauty they increase and aye more perfect grow: All
     souls yearn out to them for love, all hearts to them
     incline.
Blessed be God, whose creatures are so full of wonderment!
     Whate'er He wills He fashions forth, even as He doth design.

When I saw him, I rose and saluted him and kissed his hand, saying, "O my lord, wilt thou not take thy money?" "What hurry is there?" replied he; "wait till I have made an end of my business, when I will come and take it." Then he went away, and I said to myself, "By Allah, when he comes next time, I must press him to eat with me," for I had traded with his money and profited largely by it. At the end of the year he came again, dressed even more richly than before, and I conjured him to dismount and eat of my victual; and he said to me, "I consent, on condition that what thou expendest on me shall be of my money in thy hands." "So be it," replied I, and made him sit down, whilst I made ready what was needful of meat and drink and so forth and set the tray before him, saying, "In the name of God." So he came to the table and put out his left hand and ate with me; and I wondered at his using his left hand.[FN#75] When we had done eating, I poured water on his hand and gave him wherewith to wipe it. Then we sat talking, after I had set sweetmeats before him, and I said to him, "O my lord, I prithee relieve my mind by telling me why thou eatest with thy left hand. Belike something ails thy right hand?" When he heard my words, he recited the following verses:

Ask not, I prithee, my friend, of the anguish that burns in my
     heart 'Twould but the infirmities show that now in my bosom
     lie hid.
If with Selma I company now and harbour with Leila no more,
     Believe me, 'tis none of my will; needs must, if necessity
     bid.

Then he drew his right arm out from his sleeve, and behold, it was a stump without a hand, the latter having been cut off at the wrist. I was astonished at this, and he said to me, "Thou seest that my eating with the left hand arose, not from conceit, but from necessity; and there hangs a strange story by the cutting off of my right hand." "And how came it to be cut off?" asked I. "Know," answered he, "that I am a native of Baghdad and the son of one of the principal men of that city. When I came to man's estate, I heard the pilgrims and travellers and merchants talk of the land of Egypt, and this abode in my thought till my father died, when I laid out a large sum of money in the purchase of stuffs of Baghdad and Mosul, with which I set out on my travels and God decreed me safety, till I reached this your city." And he wept and recited the following verses:

It chances oft that the blind man escapes a pit, Whilst he that is clear of sight falls into it: The ignorant man can speak with impunity A word that is death to the wise and the ripe of wit: The true believer is pinched for his daily bread, Whilst infidel rogues enjoy all benefit. What is a man's resource and what shall he do? It is the Almighty's will: we must submit.

"So I entered Cairo," continued he, "and put up at the Khan of Mesrour, where I unpacked my goods and stored them in the magazines. Then I gave the servant money to buy me something to eat and lay down to sleep awhile. When I awoke, I went to the street called Bein el Kesrein[FN#76] and presently returned and passed the night at the Khan. Next morning, I said to myself, 'I will walk through the bazaars and see the state of the market.' So I opened a bale and took out certain stuffs, which I gave to one of my servants to carry, then repaired to the Bazaar of Jergis, where I was accosted by the brokers, who had heard of my arrival. They took my stuffs and cried them for sale, but could not get the prime cost of them. I was vexed at this; but the chief of the brokers said to me, 'O my lord, I will tell thee how thou mayst make a profit of thy goods. Thou shouldst do as the other merchants do and sell thy goods on credit, for a fixed period, on a contract drawn up by a scrivener, and duly witnessed, and employ a money-changer and take thy money every Monday and Thursday. So shalt thou profit two dirhems for every one; and besides this, thou canst amuse thyself meanwhile at leisure in viewing Cairo and the Nile.' Quoth I, 'This advice is good,' and carried the brokers to the Khan. They took my stuffs and transported them to the bazaar, where I sold them to various merchants, taking their bonds for the value. These bonds I deposited with a money-changer, who gave me an acknowledgment in writing, with which I returned to my Khan. Here I abode a month, breaking my fast with a cup of wine every morning and sending out for mutton and sweetmeats, till the time came when my receipts began to fall due. So, every Monday and Thursday, I used to repair to the bazaar and sit in the shop of one or other of the merchants, whilst the scrivener and money-changer went round to collect the money from the different merchants, till after the time of afternoon-prayer, when they brought me the amount, and I counted it and gave receipts for it, then took it and returned to my Khan. One day I went to the bath and retured to the Khan, where I broke my fast on a cup of wine, after which I slept a little. When I awoke, I ate a fowl, and scenting myself, repaired to the shop of a merchant called Bedreddin el Bustani, who welcomed me; and I sat talking with him till the market should open. Presently, there came up a lady of stately figure, wearing a magnificent head-dress and exhaling perfumes, as she walked along with a swimming gait. She stopped before Bedreddin and saluted him, raising her kerchief and showing a pair of large black eyes. He returned her salute and stood talking with her; and when I heard her speech, the love of her got hold upon my heart. Then she said to Bedreddin, 'Hast thou any stuffs of figured cloth of gold?' So he brought out to her a piece that he had had of me and she bought it of him for twelve hundred dirhems, saying, 'I will take it with me and send thee the price.' 'It may not be, O my lady,' answered he. 'This is the owner of the stuff and I owe him the price of it.' 'Out on thee!' said she. 'Do I not use to take great store of costly stuffs of thee, at a greater profit than thou askest, and send thee the money?' 'Yes,' rejoined he; 'but I am in pressing need of the price to-day.' With this she took the piece of stuff and threw it back into his lap, saying, 'You merchants have no respect for any one!' Then she turned to go, and I felt as if my soul went with her; so I rose and stopped her, saying, 'O my lady, favour me by retracing thy gracious steps!' She smiled and saying, 'For thy sake, I will return,' came back and sat down in the shop opposite me. Then I said to Bedreddin, 'What is the price set upon this piece?' And he replied, 'Eleven hundred dirhems.' 'The other hundred shall be thy profit,' rejoined I. 'Give me a piece of paper and I will write thee a discharge for it! So I wrote him a docket to that effect and gave the piece of stuff to the lady, saying, 'Take it and, if thou wilt, bring me the price next market-day; or, better still, accept it as a gift from me to thee.' 'May God requite thee with good,' answered she, 'and make thee my husband and master of my property!'[FN#77] (And God heard her prayer.) 'O my lady,' replied I, 'this piece of stuff is thine and another like it, if thou wilt but let me see thy face.' So she lifted her veil, and I took one look at her face, that caused me a thousand regrets, and fell so violently in love with her, that I was no longer master of my reason. Then she let down her veil and taking the piece of stuff, said, 'O my lord, leave me not desolate!'[FN#78] and went away, whilst I remained sitting in the shop till the time of afternoon-prayer was past, lost to the world and fairly distraught for love; and the violence of my passion prompted me to make enquiries about her of the merchant, who replied, 'She is a lady of wealth, the daughter of an Amir, who died and left her a large fortune.' Then I took leave of him and returned to the Khan, where they set the evening meal before me; but I could not eat, for thinking of her, and laid down to rest. But sleep came not to me and I lay awake till daylight, when I rose and changed my dress. I broke my fast on a cup of wine and a morsel of bread and going to the market, saluted Bedreddin and sat down by him in his shop. Presently up came the lady, followed by a slave-girl, and more richly dressed than before, and saluting me, instead of Bedreddin, said to me, in a voice than which I never heard a sweeter or softer, 'Send with me some one to take the twelve hundred dirhems, the price of the stuff.' 'What hurry is there?' asked I. And she said, 'May we never lose thee!' And gave me the money. Then I sat talking with her, and presently I made signs to her, by which she understood that I desired to enjoy her and rose hastily, as if vexed with me, and went away. My heart clung to her and I rose and followed in her track; but as I went along, a slave-girl accosted me, saying. 'O my lord, my mistress would speak with thee.' At this I was astonished, and said, 'There is no one who knows me here.' 'O my lord,' answered the slave, 'how quickly thou hast forgotten her! My mistress is she who was to-day at the shop of the merchant Bedreddin.' So I followed her to the money-changer's, where I found the lady, who drew me to her side and said to me, 'O my beloved, thou hast made prize of my heart, and love of thee has conquered my soul. Since the day I saw thee first, I have taken no delight in sleep nor in meat nor drink.' 'My sufferings have been still greater than thine,' answered I; 'and my state dispenses me from complaint.' Then said she, 'O my lord, shall I come to thee or wilt thou come to me?' Quoth I, 'I am a stranger here and have no lodging but the Khan; so by thy favour, it shall be at thy house.' 'It is well,' replied she; 'to-night is Friday eve, and nothing can be done; but to-morrow, after the morning-prayer, mount thine ass and enquire for the house of Berekat the Syndic, known as Abou Shameh, in the Hebbaniyeh quarter; for I live there; and do not delay, for I shall be expecting thee.' At this, I rejoiced greatly and took leave of her and returned to the Khan, where I passed a sleepless night. As soon as it was day, I rose and changed my clothes and perfumed myself with essences and sweet-scented smoke. Then I took fifty dinars in a handkerchief and went out to the Zuweyleh Gate, where I hired an ass, bidding the driver carry me to the Hebbaniyeh. So he set off with me and brought me in the twinkling of an eye to a by-street called El Munkeri, where I bade him go in and enquire for the Syndic's house. After a little he returned and said, 'Alight.' But I made him guide me to the house, where I dismounted and giving him a quarter-dinar, said, 'Come back to-morrow at daybreak and fetch me away.' 'In the name of God,' answered he, and went away. Then I knocked at the gate and there came out two young girls, high-bosomed maids, as they were moons, and said to me, 'Enter, for our mistress awaits thee, and she slept not last night for joyance in thee.' So I entered and they brought me, through a vestibule, into an upper chamber with seven doors, paved with vari-coloured marbles and furnished with hangings and carpets of coloured silk. The walls were plastered with stucco-royal, in which one might see his own face, and the roof was ribbed with gold and bordered with inscriptions emblazoned in ultramarine. All around were latticed windows overlooking a garden, full of fruits of all colours, with streams running and birds singing on the branches, and midmost the hall was a fountain, at whose angles stood birds fashioned in red gold, spouting forth water as it were pearls and jewels; and indeed the place comprised all kinds of beauty and dazzled the beholder with its radiance. I entered and sat down; but hardly had I done so, when the lady came up to me, crowned with a diadem of pearls and jewels and having her eyebrows pencilled and her hands stained with henna. When she saw me, she smiled on me and embraced me and pressed me to her bosom; and she set her mouth to mine and sucked my tongue, and I did the like with her. Then she said, 'Can it be true that thou art indeed come to me?' 'I am thy slave,' answered I; and she said, 'Welcome, a thousand times! By Allah, since I first saw thee, sleep has not been sweet to me nor food pleasant!' Quoth I, 'So has it been with me also.' Then we sat down to converse, and I bowed my head for bashfulness. Presently, she set before me a tray of the most exquisite meats, such as ragouts and fritters soaked in honey and fricassees and fowls stuffed with sugar and pistachio-nuts, and we ate till we were satisfied. Then they brought ewer and basin and I washed my hands, after which we scented ourselves with rose-water mingled with musk and sat down again to converse. We complained to each other of the sufferings we had undergone, and my love for her took such hold on me, that all my wealth was of little account to me, in comparison with her. We passed the time in toying and kissing and dalliance, till nightfall, when the damsels set before us a banquet of food and wine and we sat carousing half the night. Then we went to bed and I lay with her till the morning, never in my life saw I the like of that night. As soon as it was day, I arose and took leave of her, after having slipped under the mattress the handkerchief containing the dinars; and she wept and said 'O my lord, when shall I see that fair face again?' 'I will be with thee at eventide,' answered I, and going out, found the ass-man waiting for me at the door. So I mounted and rode to the Khan of Mesrour, where I alighted and gave the driver half a dinar, saying, 'Come back at sun down.' And he said, 'Good.' Then I broke my fast and went out to seek the price of my stuffs, after which I returned and taking a roast lamb and some sweetmeats, called a porter and despatched them by him to the lady, paying him his hire in advance. I occupied myself with my affairs till sunset, when the ass-driver came for me and I took fifty dinars in a handkerchief and rode to the house, where I found the marble floor swept, the brass burnished, the lamps filled and the candles lighted, the meats ready dished and the wines strained. When my mistress saw me, she threw her arms round my neck and exclaimed, 'Thou hast desolated me by thine absence!' Then they set the tables and we ate till we were satisfied, when the serving-maids took away the tray of food and set on wine. We gave not over drinking till midnight, when we went to the sleeping-chamber and lay together till morning. Then I rose and went away, leaving the fifty dinars with her as before. I found the ass-driver at the door and mounting, rode to the Khan, where I slept awhile, then went out to prepare the evening-meal. I took a brace of geese with broth on two platters of dressed rice, together with colocasia-roots[FN#79], fried and soaked in honey, and wax candles and fruits and conserves and flowers and nuts and almonds, and sent them all to her. As soon as it was night, I mounted the ass as usual, taking with me fifty dinars in a handkerchief, and rode to the house, where we ate and drank and lay together till morning, when I left the handkerchief and dinars with her and rode back to the Khan. I ceased not to lead this life, till one fine morning I found myself without a single dirhem and said, 'This is Satan's doing!' And I repeated the following verses:

When a rich man grows poor, his lustre dies away, Like to the
     setting sun that pales with ended day.
Absent, his name is not remembered among men: Present, he hath no
     part in life and its array.
He passes through the streets and fain would hide his head And
     pours out floods of tears in every desert way.
By Allah, when distress and want descend on men, But strangers
     midst their kin and countrymen are they.

Then I left the Khan and walked along Bein el Kesrein till I came to the Zuweyleh Gate, where I found the folk crowded together and the gate blocked up for the much people. As Fate would have it, I saw there a trooper, against whom I pressed, without meaning it, so that my hand came on his pocket and I felt a purse inside. I looked and seeing a string of green silk hanging from the pocket, knew that it belonged to the purse. The crowd increased every moment and just then, a camel bearing a load of wood jostled the trooper on the other side and he turned to ward it off from him, lest it should tear his clothes. When I saw this, Satan tempted me; so I pulled the string and drew out a little purse of blue silk, full of something that chinked like money. Hardly had I done so, when the soldier turned and feeling his pocket lightened, put his hand to it and found it empty; whereupon he turned to me and raising his mace, smote me on the head I fell to the ground, whilst the people came round us and seizing the soldier's horse by the bridle, said to him, 'Is it because he pushed against thee in the throng, that thou smitest this young man such a blow?' But he cried out at them and said, 'This fellow is an accursed thief!' With this I came to myself and stood up, and the folk looked at me and said, 'This is a comely youth and would not steal aught.' Some took part for me and others against me and there was a great clamour, and the people pulled at me and would have rescued me from the trooper; but as Fate would have it, the chief of the police and the captain and officers of the watch entered by the gate at this moment; and the prefect, seeing the crowd about the soldier and myself, enquired what was the matter. 'O my lord,' replied the soldier, 'this fellow is a thief. I had a blue purse in my pocket, containing twenty dinars, and he took it, whilst I was in the crush.' 'Was any one else by thee?' asked the magistrate, and the trooper answered, 'No.' Then the prefect cried out to the officers of the watch, who seized me and stripping me by his order, found the purse in my clothes. He took it and found in it twenty dinars, as the soldier had said, whereat he was wroth and calling to the officers to bring me before him, said to me, 'O young man tell me the truth. Didst thou steal this purse?' At this I hung down my head and said to myself, 'It is useless for me to say I did not steal the purse, for they found it in my clothes: and if I confess to the theft, I fall into trouble.' So I raised my head and said, 'Yes: I took it.' When the prefect heard what I said, he wondered and called for witnesses, who came forward and attested by confession. Then he bade the hangman cut off my right hand, and he did so; after which he would have cut off my left foot also; but the trooper took pity on me and interceded for me with the prefect, who left me and went away; whilst the folk remained round me and gave me a cup of wine to drink. As for the trooper, he gave me the purse, saying, 'Thou art a comely youth, and it befits not that thou be a thief.' And I repeated the following verses:

By Allah, trusty brother mine, I am indeed no thief, Nor, O most
     bountiful of men, a highwayman am I.
But the vicissitudes of fate overthrew me suddenly, And care and
     stress and penury full sorely did me try.
It was not thou, but God who cast the fatal shaft at me, The
     shaft that made from off my head the crown of honour fly.

Then he left me, and I went away, after having wrapt my hand in a piece of rag and thrust it into my bosom. I betook me to my mistress's house, faint and ill at ease and pale by reason of what had befallen me, and threw myself on the couch. She saw that my colour was changed and said to me, 'What ails thee and why do I see thee thus changed?' 'My head irks me,' answered I; 'I am not well.' When she heard this, she was vexed and concerned for me and said to me, 'Fret not my heart, O my lord! Sit up and raise thy head and let me know what has happened to thee to-day, for thy face tells me a tale.' 'Spare me this talk,' replied I. But she wept and said, 'Meseems thou art tired of me, for I see that thou art contrary to thy wont.' But I was silent, and she continued to talk to me, though I made her no answer, till nightfall, when she brought me food: but I refused it, fearing to let her see me eat with my left hand, and said to her, 'I do not care to eat at present.' Quoth she 'Tell me what has befallen thee to-day and what ails thee, that thou art troubled and broken in heart and spirit.' 'Presently,' replied I; 'I will tell thee at my leisure.' Then she brought me wine, saying, 'Take it for it will dispel thy care: thou must indeed drink and tell me what is thy matter with thee.' 'Must I tell thee?' said I; and she answered, 'Yes.' Then said I, 'If it must be so, give me to drink with thine own hand.' So she filled and drank then filled again and gave me the cup. I took it from her with my left hand and repeated the following verses with tears running from my eyes:

When God would execute His will in anything On one endowed with
     sight, hearing and reasoning,
He stops his ears and blinds his eyes and draws his wit From him,
     as one draws out the hairs to paste that cling;
Till, His decrees fulfilled, He gives him back his wit, That
     therewithal he may receive admonishing.

At this she gave a loud cry and said to me, 'What makes thee weep? Thou settest my heart on fire. And what ails thee to take the cup with thy left hand?' 'I have a boil on my right hand,' answered I; and she said, 'Put it out and I will lance it for thee.' 'It is not ripe for lancing,' answered I; 'so do not torment me, for I will not show it thee at present.' Then I drank off the cup, and she plied me with wine till I became drowsy and fell asleep in my place; whereupon she looked at my right arm and saw that it was but a stump without a hand. So she searched me and found the purse of gold and my severed hand wrapt in a piece of rag. With this, there overcame her such grief as none ever knew, and she ceased not to lament for my sake till the morning. When I awoke, I found she had made me a dish of broth of four boiled fowls, which she brought to me, together with a cup of wine. I ate and drank and laying down the purse, would have gone out; but she said to me, 'Whither goest thou?' 'Where my business calls me,' replied I; and she said, 'Thou shalt not go: sit down.' So I sat down, and she said, 'Has thy love for me brought thee to such a pass, that thou hast wasted thy substance and lost thy hand on my account? Since this is so, I call God to witness against me that I will never part with thee: and thou shalt see the truth of my words.' Then she sent for the Cadi and the witnesses and said to them, 'Draw up a contract of marriage between me and this young man and bear witness that I have received the dowry.' So they drew up our marriage contract, and she said to them, 'Be witness that all my money that is in this chest and all that belongs to me and all my slaves, male and female, are the property of this young man.' So they took act of this and withdrew, after having received their fees. Then she took me by the hand and leading me to a closet, opened a large chest and said to me, 'See what is herein.' I looked and behold, it was full of handkerchiefs. Quoth she, 'This is the money I had of thee; for every time thou gavest me a handkerchief, with fifty dinars in it, I wrapped it together and threw it into this chest; so now take thy money, for indeed it returns to thee, and thou to-day art become of high estate. Fate afflicted thee, so that thou didst lose thy right hand for my sake, and I can never requite thee: nay, though I gave my life, it were little and I should still remain thy debtor.' Then she said to me, 'Take possession of thy property!' and transferred the contents of the other chest to that which contained the money I had given her. At this, my heart was gladdened and my grief forsook me, and I rose and kissed and thanked her. Quoth she, 'Thou hast lost thy hand for love of me, and how can I requite thee? By Allah, if I gave my life for thy love, it were far short of thy due!' Then she made over to me by deed all her clothes and jewels and other property and lay not down to sleep that night, being in sore concern on my account, till I told her all that had befallen me. I passed the night with her; but before we had lived together a month's time, she fell grievously ill and sickness was upon her, by reason of her grief for the loss of my hand; and she endured but fifty days before she was numbered of the folk of the other world. So I laid her in the ground and had recitations of the Koran made over her tomb and gave much money in alms for her; after which I returned to the house and found that she had left much substance in money and houses and lands. Among her storehouses was one full of sesame, whereof I sold part to thee; and it was the fact of my being busied in selling the rest of my goods and all that was in the storehouses, that diverted my attention from thee; nor have I till now made an end of receiving the price. This, then, is the reason of the cutting off of my right hand and of my eating with the left. Now thou shalt not baulk me in what I am about to say, for that I have eaten of thy victual; and it is that I make thee a gift of the money that is in thy hands." "Indeed," replied I, "thou hast shown me the utmost kindness and liberality." Then said he, "Wilt thou journey with me to my native country, whither I am about to return with a lading of Cairo and Alexandria stuffs?" "I will well," answered I, and appointed with him for the end of the month. So I sold all I had and bought merchandise; then we set out, he and I, and journeyed till we came to this town, where he sold his goods, and buying others in their stead, set out again for Egypt. But it was my lot to abide here, so that there befell me in my strangerhood what befell last night. This, then, is my story, O King of the age. Is it not more marvellous than that of the hunchback?' 'Not so,' answered the King; 'and needs must you all be hanged.' Then came forward the controller of the Sultan's kitchen and said, 'With thy leave, I will tell thee what happened to me but lately and if it be more marvellous than the story of the hunchback, do thou grant us our lives.' 'So be it,' answered the King. Then said the controller, 'Know, O King, that

The Controller's Story.

I was the night before last in company with a number of persons who were assembled for the purpose of hearing a recitation of the Koran. The doctors of the law attended, and when the readers had made an end of reading, the table was spread, and amongst other things they set before us a ragout flavoured with cumin-seed. So we sat down to eat it; but one of our number held back and abstained from eating. We conjured him to eat of the ragout; but he swore that he would not, and we pressed him till he said, "Press me not; what has already befallen me through eating of this dish suffices me." And he repeated the following verses:

Shoulder thy tray, 'fore God, and get thee gone with it, And to thine eyes apply such salve as thou deem'st fit.[FN#80]

"For God's sake," said we, "tell us the reason of thy refusal to eat of the ragout!" "If I must eat of it," replied he, "I will not do so, except I may wash my hands forty times with soap, forty times with potash and forty times with galingale, in all a hundred and twenty times." So the master of the house ordered his servants to bring water and all that he required; and the young man washed his hands as he had said. Then he sat down, as if afraid, and dipping his hand into the ragout, began to eat, though with evident repugnance and as if doing himself violence, whilst we regarded him with the utmost wonder; for his hand trembled and we saw that his thumb had been cut off and he ate with his four fingers only. So we said to him, "God on thee, what has become of thy thumb? Is thy hand thus by the creation of God or has it been mutilated by accident?" "O my brothers, answered he, "it is not this thumb alone that has been cut off, but also that of the other hand and the great toe of each of my feet, as ye shall see." Then he bared his left hand and his feet, and we saw that the left hand was even as the right and that each of his feet lacked the great toe. At this sight, our amazement increased and we said to him, "We are impatient to know thy history and the manner of the cutting off of thy thumbs and great toes and the reason of thy washing thy hands a hundred and twenty times." "Know then," answered he, "that my father was chief of the merchants of Baghdad in the time of the Khalif Haroun er Reshid; but he was given to drinking wine and listening to the lute and other instruments, so that when he died, he left nothing. I buried him and had recitations of the Koran made over him and mourned for him days and nights. Then I opened his shop and found he had left little but debts. However, I compounded with his creditors for time to pay and betook myself to buying and selling, paying them something week by week on account, till at last I succeeded in clearing off the debts and began to add to my capital. One day, as I sat in my shop, there came up to the entrance of the bazaar a lady, than whom my eyes never saw a fairer, richly clad and decked and riding on a mule, with one slave walking before and another behind her. She halted the mule at the entrance of the bazaar and entered, followed by an eunuch, who said to her, 'O my lady, come out, without telling any one, or thou wilt bring us into trouble.' And he stood before her,[FN#81] whilst she looked at the shops. She found no shop open but mine, so came up, with the eunuch behind her, and sitting down in my shop, saluted me; never did I hear aught sweeter than her voice or more pleasant than her speech. Then she unveiled her face and I saw she was like the moon and stole at her a glance that cost me a thousand sighs. My heart was captivated with her love and I could not take my eyes off her face; and I repeated the following verses:

Say to the fairest fair, her in the dove-coloured veil, "Death
     would be welcome to me, to save me from thy bale:
Grant me thy favours, I pray! so I may live perchance. Lo! I
     stretch forth my palm: let not thy bounties fail."

When she heard this, she answered me by repeating the following verses:

Power to forget thee, for desire, fails even unto me: My heart
     and all my soul will love none other after thee.
If my eyes ever look on aught except thy loveliness, May union
     after severance ne'er brighten them with glee!
I've sworn an oath by my right hand ne'er to forget thy grace. My
     sad heart pineth for thy love and never may win free.
Passion hath given me to drink a brimming cup of love; Would it
     had given the self-same draught to drink, dear heart, to
     thee!
If thou shouldst ask me what I'd crave most earnestly of God,
     "The Almighty's favour first, then thine," I'd say, "my
     prayer shall be."

Then she said to me, 'O youth, hast thou any handsome stuffs?' 'O my lady,' answered I, 'thy slave is poor: but wait till the merchants open their shops, and I will get thee what thou wilt.' Then we sat talking, she and I, whilst I was drowned in the sea of her love and dazed with passion for her, till the merchants opened their shops, when I rose and fetched her all she sought, to the value of five thousand dirhems. She gave the stuffs to the slave and leaving the bazaar, mounted the mule and rode away, without telling me whence she came, and I was ashamed to ask her. So I became answerable to the merchants for the price of the goods and thus took on myself a debt of five thousand dirhems. Then I went home, drunken with love of her, and they set the evening-meal before me. I ate a mouthful and lay down to rest, musing upon her beauty and grace: but sleep came not to me. A week passed thus, and the merchants sought their money of me, but I persuaded them to wait another week, at the end of which time she came up, riding on the mule and attended by an eunuch and two slaves. She saluted me and said, 'O my lord, we have been long in bringing thee the price of the stuffs; but now fetch a money-changer and take the amount.' So I sent for the money-changer, and the eunuch counted me out the money, and we sat talking, the lady and I, till the market opened, when she said to me, 'Get me this and this.' So I got her from the merchants what she wanted, and she took it and went away, without saying a word to me about the price. As soon as she was out of sight, I repented me of what I had done, for the price of what I had bought for her was a thousand dinars, and I said to myself, 'What doting is this? She has brought me five thousand dirhems[FN#82], and taken a thousand dinars'[FN#83] worth of goods.' And I feared lest I should be beggared, through having to pay the merchants their money, and said, 'They know none but me and this woman is none other than a cheat, who hath cozened me with her beauty and grace, for she saw that I was young and laughed at me; and I did not ask her address.' She did not come again for more than a month, and I abode in constant distress and perplexity, till at last the merchants dunned me for their money and pressed me so that I put up my property for sale and looked for nothing but ruin. However, as I was sitting in my shop, one day, absorbed in melancholy thought, she rode up and dismounting at the gate of the bazaar, came in and made towards me. When I saw her, my anxiety ceased and I forgot my troubles. She came up to me and greeting me with her pleasant speech, said to me, 'Fetch the money-changer and take thy money.' So she gave me the price of the goods I had gotten for her and more, and fell to conversing freely with me, till I was like to die of joy and delight. Presently, she said to me, 'Hast thou a wife?' 'No,' answered I; 'I have never known woman.' And fell a-weeping. Quoth she, 'Why dost thou weep?' 'It is nothing,' replied I; and giving the eunuch some of the dinars, begged him to use his influence with her for me; but he laughed and said, 'She is more in love with thee than thou with her. She had no occasion for the stuffs she bought of thee and did all this but out of love for thee. So ask of her what thou wilt; she will not deny thee.' When she saw me give the eunuch money, she returned and sat down again; and I said to her, 'Be charitable to thy slave and pardon him what he is about to say.' Then I told her what was in my mind, and she assented and said to the eunuch, 'Thou shalt carry my message to him.' Then to me, 'Do as the eunuch bids thee.' Then she rose and went away, and I paid the merchants what I owed them, and they all profited; but as for me, I gained nought but regret for the breaking off of our intercourse. I slept not all that night; but before many days were past, the eunuch came to me, and I made much of him and asked after his mistress. 'She is sick for love of thee,' replied he; and I said, 'Tell me who she is.' Quoth he, 'She is one of the waiting-women of the Lady Zubeideh, the wife of the Khalif Haroun er Reshid, who brought her up and advanced her to be stewardess of the harem and granted her the right of going in and out at will. She told her mistress of thee and begged her to marry her to thee; but she said, "I will not do this, till I see the young man; and if he be worthy of thee, I will marry thee to him." So now we wish to bring thee into the palace at once and if thou succeed in entering without being seen, thou wilt win to marry her; but if the affair get wind, thou wilt lose thy head. What sayst thou?' And I answered, 'I will go with thee and abide the risk of which thou speakest.' Then said he, 'As soon as it is night, go to the mosque built by the Lady Zubeideh on the Tigris and pray and pass the night there.' 'With all my heart,' answered I. So at nightfall I repaired to the mosque, where I prayed and passed the night. Just before daybreak, there came up some eunuchs in a boat, with a number of empty chests, which they deposited in the mosque and went away all, except one who remained behind and whom, on examination, I found to be he who served as our go-between. Presently, in came my mistress herself and I rose to her and embraced her. She kissed me, weeping, and we talked awhile; after which she made me get into one of the chests and locked it upon me. Then the eunuchs came back with a number of packages; and she fell to stowing them in the chests and locking the latter one by one, till she had filled them all. Then they embarked the chests in the boat and made for the Lady Zubeideh's palace. With this, reflection came to me and I said to myself, 'My lust will surely bring me to destruction, nor do I know whether I shall gain my end or no!' And I began to weep, shut up as I was in the chest, and to pray to God to deliver me from the peril I was in, whilst the boat ceased not going till it reached the palace gate, where they lifted out the chests and amongst them that in which I was. Then they carried them into the palace, passing through a troop of eunuchs, guardians of the harem and door-keepers, till they came to the post of the chief of the eunuchs, who started up from sleep and called out to the lady, saying, 'What is in those chests?' Quoth she, 'They are full of wares for the Lady Zubeideh.' 'Open them,' said he, 'one by one, that I may see what is in them.'—'Why wilt thou open them?' asked she: but he cried out at her, saying, 'Give me no words! They must and shall be opened.' Now the first that they brought to him to open was that in which I was: and when I felt this, my senses failed me and I bepissed myself for terror, and the water ran out of the chest. Then said she to the eunuch, 'O chief, thou hast undone me and thyself also, for thou hast spoiled that which is worth ten thousand dinars. This box contains coloured dresses and four flasks of Zemzem water; and now one of the bottles has broken loose and the water is running out over the clothes and their colours will be ruined.' Then said the eunuch, 'Take up thy chests and begone with God's malison!' So the slaves took up the chests and hurried on with them, till suddenly I heard a voice saying, 'Alas! Alas! the Khalif! the Khalif!' When I heard this, my heart died within me and I spoke the words which whoso says shall not be confounded, that is to say, 'There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme! I have brought this affliction on myself.' Presently I heard the Khalif say to my mistress, 'Harkye, what is in those chests of thine ?' 'Clothes for the Lady Zubeideh,' answered she; and he said, 'Open them to me.' When I heard this, I gave myself up for lost and said, 'By Allah, this is the last of my worldly days!' and began to repeat the profession of the Faith. Then I heard the lady say to the Khalif, 'These chests have been committed to my charge by the Lady Zubeideh, and she does not wish their contents to be seen of any one.'—'No matter,' said he; 'I must open them and see what is in them.' And he cried out to the eunuchs saying, 'Bring them to me.' At this, I made sure of death and swooned away. Then the slaves brought the chests up to him and opened them, one after another, and he saw in them perfumes and stuffs and rich clothes, till none remained unopened but that in which I was. They put their hands to it to open it, but the lady made haste and said to the Khalif, 'This one thou shalt see in the Lady Zubeideh's presence, for that which is in it is her secret.' When he heard this, he ordered them to carry in the chests; so they took up that in which I was and carried it, with the rest, into the harem and set it down in the middle of the saloon; and indeed my spittle was dried up for fear. Then my mistress opened the chest and took me out, saying, 'Fear not: no harm shall befall thee, but be of good courage and sit down, till the Lady Zubeideh comes, and thou shalt surely win thy wish of me.' So I sat down, and after awhile, in came ten maidens like moons and ranged themselves in two rows, one facing the other, and after them other twenty, high-bosomed maids with the Lady Zubeideh, who could hardly walk for the weight of her dresses and ornaments. As she drew near, the damsels dispersed from around her, and I advanced and kissed the earth before her. She signed to me to be seated and questioned me of my condition and family, to which I made such answers as pleased her, and she said to my mistress, 'O damsel, our nurturing of thee has not been in vain.' Then she said to me, 'Know that this damsel is to us even as our own child, and she is a trust committed to thee by God.' I kissed the earth again before her, well pleased that I should marry my mistress, and she bade me sojourn ten days in the palace. So I abode there ten days, during which time I saw not my mistress nor any one save a serving-maid, who brought me the morning and evening meals. After this the Lady Zubeideh took counsel with the Khalif on the marriage of her favourite, and he gave leave and assigned her a wedding portion of ten thousand dinars. So the Lady Zubeideh sent for the Cadi and the witnesses, and they drew up our marriage contract, after which the women made sweetmeats and rich viands and distributed them among the inmates of the harem. Thus they did other ten days, at the end of which time my mistress entered the bath. Meanwhile, they set before me a tray of food, on which was a basin containing a ragout of fricasseed fowls' breasts dressed with cumin-seed and flavoured with sugar and rose-water, mixed with musk, and many another dish, such as amazed the wit; and by Allah, I did not hesitate, but fell upon the ragout and ate my fill of it. Then I wiped my hands, but forgot to wash them and sat till it grew dark, when they lit the candles and the singing-women came with tambourines and proceeded to display the bride and carry her in procession from room to room, receiving largesse of gold and pieces of silk, till they had made the round of the palace. Then they brought her to me and disrobed her. When I found myself alone in bed with her, I embraced her, hardly believing in my good fortune; but she smelt the odour of the ragout on my hands and gave a loud cry, at which the maids came running to her from all sides. I was alarmed and trembled, not knowing what was the matter, and the girls said to her, 'What ails thee, O sister?' Quoth she, 'Take this madman away from me: methought he was a man of sense.' 'What makes thee think me mad?' asked I. 'O madman,' answered she, 'what made thee eat of ragout of cumin-seed, without washing thy hands? By Allah, I will punish thee for thy misconduct! Shall the like of thee come to bed to the like of me, with unwashed hands?' Then she took from her side a whip of plaited thongs and laid on to my back and buttocks till I swooned away for the much beating; when she said to the maids, 'Take him and carry him to the chief of the police, that he may cut off the hand wherewith he ate of the ragout and washed it not.' When I heard this, I said, 'There is no power and no virtue but in God! Wilt thou cut off my hand, because I ate of a ragout and did not wash?' And the girls interceded with her, saying, 'O our sister, forgive him this once!' But she said, 'By Allah, I must and will dock him of somewhat!' Then she went away and I saw no more of her for ten days, at the end of which time, she came in to me and said, 'O black-a-vice, I will not make peace with thee, till I have punished thee for eating ragout of cumin-seed, without washing thy hands!' Then she cried out to the maids, who bound me; and she took a sharp razor and cut off my thumbs and toes, as ye have seen. Thereupon I swooned away and she sprinkled the severed parts with a powder which staunched the blood; and I said, 'Never again will I eat of ragout of cumin-seed without washing my hands forty times with potash, forty times with galingale and forty times with soap!' And she took of me an oath to that effect. So when the ragout was set before me, my colour changed and I said to myself, 'It was this that was the cause of the cutting off of my thumbs and toes.' And when ye forced me, I said, 'I must needs fulfil the oath I have taken.'" "And what befell thee after this?" asked the others. "After this," replied he, "her heart was appeased and I lay with her that night. We abode thus awhile, till she said to me, one day, 'It befits not that we continue in the Khalif's palace: for none ever came hither but thou, and thou wonst not in but by the grace of the Lady Zubeideh. Now she has given me fifty thousand dinars; so take this money and go out and buy us a commodious house.' So I went forth and bought a handsome and spacious house, whither she transported all her goods and valuables." Then (continued the controller) we ate and went away: and after, there happened to me with the hunchback that thou wottest of. This then is my story and peace be on thee.' Quoth the King, 'This story is not more agreeable than that of the hunchback: on the contrary, it is less so, and you must all be hanged.' Then came forward the Jewish physician and kissing the earth, said, 'O King of the age, I will tell thee a story more wonderful than that of the hunchback.' 'Tell on,' answered the King; and the Jew said, 'The strangest adventure that ever befell me was as follows:

The Jewish Physician's Story.

In my younger days I lived at Damascus, where I studied my art; and one day, as I sat in my house, there came to me a servant with a summons from the governor of the city. So I followed him to the house and entering the saloon, saw, lying on a couch of juniper-wood, set with plates of gold, that stood at the upper end, a sick youth, never was seen a handsomer. I sat down at his head and offered up a prayer for his recovery. He made a sign to me with his eyes and I said to him, "O my lord, give me thy hand." So he put forth his left hand, at which I wondered and said to myself, "By Allah, it is strange that so handsome a young man of high family should lack good breeding! This can be nothing but conceit." However, I felt his pulse and wrote him a prescription and continued to visit him for ten days, at the end of which time he recovered and went to the bath, whereupon the governor gave me a handsome dress of honour and appointed me superintendent of the hospital at Damascus. I accompanied him to the bath, the whole of which they had cleared for his accommodation, and the servants came in with him and took off his clothes within the bath, when I saw that his right hand had been newly cut off, and this was the cause of his illness. At this I was amazed and grieved for him: then looking at his body I saw on it the marks of beating with rods, for which he had used ointments. I was perplexed at this and my perplexity appeared in my face. The young man looked at me and reading my thought, said to me, "O physician of the age, marvel not at my case. I will tell thee my story, when we leave the bath." Then we washed and returning to his house, partook of food and rested awhile; after which he said to me, "What sayest thou to taking the air in the garden?" "I will well," answered I; so he bade the slaves carry out carpets and cushions and roast a lamb and bring us some fruit. They did as he bade them, and we ate of the fruits, he using his left hand for the purpose. After awhile, I said to him, "Tell me thy story." "O physician of the age," answered he, "hear what befell me. Know that I am a native of Mosul and my father was the eldest of ten brothers, who were all married, but none of them was blessed with children except my father, to whom God had vouchsafed me. So I grew up among my uncles, who rejoiced in me with exceeding joy, till I came to man's estate. One Friday, I went to the chief mosque of Mosul with my father and my uncles, and we prayed the congregational prayers, after which all the people went out, except my father and uncles, who sat conversing of the wonders of foreign lands and the strange things to be seen in various cities. At last they mentioned Egypt and one of my uncles said, 'Travellers say that there is not on the face of the earth aught fairer than Cairo and its Nile.' Quoth my father, 'Who has not seen Cairo has not seen the world. Its dust is gold and its Nile a wonder; its women are houris and its houses palaces: its air is temperate and the fragrance of its breezes outvies the scent of aloes-wood: and how should it be otherwise, being the mother of the world? Bravo for him who says,' And he repeated the following verses:

Shall I from Cairo wend and leave the sweets of its delight? What
     sojourn after it indeed were worth a longing thought?
How shall I leave its fertile plains, whose earth unto the scent
     Is very perfume, for the land contains no thing that's
     naught?
It is indeed for loveliness a very Paradise, With all its goodly
     carpet[FN#84] spread and cushions richly wrought.
A town that maketh heart and eye yearn with its goodliness,
     Uniting all that of devout and profligate is sought,
Or comrades true, by God His grace conjoined in brotherhood,
     Their meeting-place the groves of palms that cluster round
     about.
O men of Cairo, if it be God's will that I depart, Let bonds of
     friendship and of love unite us still in thought!
Name not the city to the breeze, lest for its rival lands It
     steal the perfumes, wherewithal its garden-ways are fraught.

'And if,' added my father, 'you saw its gardens in the evenings, with the tree-shadows sloping over them, you would behold a marvel and incline to them with delight.' And they fell to describing Cairo and the Nile. When I heard their accounts of Cairo, my mind dwelt on it and I longed to visit it; and when they had done talking, each went to his own dwelling. As for me, I slept not that night, for stress of yearning after Egypt, nor was meat nor drink pleasant to me. After awhile, my uncles prepared to set out for Cairo, and I wept before my father, till he made ready for me merchandise and consented to my going wish them, saying to them, 'Let him not enter Egypt, but leave him to sell his goods at Damascus.' Then I took leave of my father and we left Mosul and journeyed till we reached Aleppo, where we abode some days. Then we fared on, till we came to Damascus and found it a city as it were a paradise, abounding in trees and rivers and birds and fruits of all kinds. We alighted at one of the Khans, where my uncles tarried awhile, selling and buying: and they sold my goods also at a profit of five dirhems on every one, to my great satisfaction; after which they left me and went on to Egypt, whilst I abode at Damascus in a handsome house, such as the tongue fails to describe, which I had hired for two dinars a month. Here I remained, eating and drinking and spending the money in my hands, till, one day, as I sat at the door of my lodging, there came up a young lady, clad in costly apparel, never saw my eyes richer. I winked at her; and she entered without hesitation. I entered with her and shut the door, and she raised her kerchief and did off her veil, when I found her of surpassing beauty, and love of her took hold upon my heart. So I rose and fetched a tray of the most delicate viands and fruits and all that was needed for a carouse, and we ate and sported and drank till we were warm with wine. Then I lay with her the most delightful of nights, till the morning, when I offered to give her ten dinars; but she frowned and knit her brows and said, 'For shame! Thinkest thou I covet thy money?' And she took out from the bosom of her shift ten dinars and laid them before me, saying, 'By Allah, except thou take them, I will never come back!' So I accepted them, and she said to me, 'O my beloved, expect me again in three days' time, when I will be with thee between sundown and nightfall; and do thou provide us with these dinars the like of yesterday's entertainment.' So saying, she bade me adieu and went away, taking my reason with her. At the end of the three days, she came again, dressed in gold brocade and wearing richer ornaments than before. I had made ready a repast; so we ate and drank and lay together, as before, till the morning, when she gave me other ten dinars and appointed me again for three days thence. Accordingly, I made ready as before, and at the appointed time she came again, more richly dressed than ever, and said to me, 'O my lord, am I not fair?' 'Yea, by Allah!' answered I. Then she said, 'Wilt thou give me leave to bring with me a young lady handsomer than I and younger, that she may frolic with us and that thou and she may laugh and make merry and rejoice her heart, for she has been sad at heart this long time past and has asked me to let her go out and spend the night abroad with me?' 'Ay, by Allah!' answered I; and we drank till we were warm with wine and slept together till the morning, when she gave me twenty dinars and said to me, 'Add to thy usual provision, on account of the young lady who will come with me.' Then she went away, and on the fourth day, I made ready as usual, and soon after sundown she came, accompanied by another damsel, wrapped in a veil. They entered and sat down; and when I saw them, I repeated the following verses:

How lovely and how pleasant is our day! The railer's absent,
     reckless of our play,
Love and delight and wine with us abide, Each one enough to charm
     the wit away;
The full moon[FN#85] glitters through the falling veil;
     Bough-like, the shapes within the vestments sway:
The rose blooms in the cheeks, and in the eyes Narcissus
     languishes, in soft decay[FN#86].
Delight with those I love fulfilled for me And life, as I would
     have it, fair and gay!

Then I lighted the candles and received them with joy and gladness. They put off their outer clothing, and the new damsel unveiled her face, when I saw that she was like the moon at its full, never beheld I one more beautiful. Then I rose and set meat and drink before them, and we ate and drank: and I began to feed the new damsel and to fill her cup and drink with her. At this the first lady was secretly jealous and said to me, 'Is not this girl more charming than I?' 'Ay, by Allah!' replied I. Quoth she, 'It is my intent that thou lie with her this night.' And I answered, 'On my head and eyes!' Then she rose and spread the bed for us, and I took the young lady and lay with her that night till the morning, when I awoke and found myself wet, as I thought, with sweat. I sat up and tried to rouse the damsel, but when I shook her by the shoulders, her head rolled off the pillow. Thereupon my reason fled and I cried out, saying, 'O gracious Protector, extend to me Thy protection!' Then I saw that she had been murdered, and the world became black in my sight and I sought the lady my first mistress, but could not find her. So I knew that it was she who had murdered the girl, out of jealousy, and said, 'There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme! What is to be done?' I considered awhile, then rose and taking off my clothes, dug a hole midmost the courtyard, in which I laid the dead girl, with her jewellery and ornaments, and throwing back the earth over her, replaced the marble of the pavement. After this I washed and put on clean clothes and taking what money I had left, locked up the house and took courage and went to the owner of the house, to whom I paid a year's rent, telling him that I was about to join my uncles at Cairo. Then I set out and journeying to Egypt, foregathered with my uncles, who rejoiced in me and I found that they had made an end of selling their goods. They enquired the reason of my coming, and I said, 'I yearned after you;' but did not let them know that I had any money with me. I abode with them a year, enjoying the pleasures of the city and the Nile and squandering the rest of my money in feasting and drinking, till the time drew near for my uncles' departure when I hid myself from them and they sought for me, but could hear no news of me and said, 'He must have gone back to Damascus.' So they departed, and I came out from my hiding and sojourned in Cairo three years, sending year by year the rent of the house at Damascus to its owner, until at last I had nothing left but one year's rent. At this my breast was straitened and I set out and journeyed till I reached Damascus, where my landlord received me with joy. I alighted at the house and found everything locked up as I had left it: so I opened the closets and took out what was in them and found under the bed, where I had lain with the murdered girl, a necklet of gold set with jewels. I took it up and cleansing it of her blood, examined it and wept awhile. Then I abode in the house two days and on the third day, I went to the bath and changed my clothes. I had now no money left and the devil prompted me to sell the necklet, that destiny might be accomplished; so I took it to the market and handed it to a broker, who made me sit down in the shop of my landlord and waited till the market was full, when he took the necklet and offered it for sale privily without my knowledge. The price bidden for it was two thousand dinars; but the broker returned and said to me, 'This necklet is a brass counterfeit of Frank manufacture, and a thousand dirhems have been bidden for it.' 'Yes,' answered I; 'I knew it to be brass, for we had it made for such an one, that we might mock her: and now my wife has inherited it and we wish to sell it; so go and take the thousand dirhems.' When the broker heard this, his suspicions were roused; so he carried the necklet to the chief of the market, who took it to the prefect of police and said to him, 'This necklet was stolen from me, and we have found the thief in the habit of a merchant.' So the officers fell on me unawares and brought me to the prefect, who questioned me and I told him what I had told the broker: but he laughed and said, 'This is not the truth.' Then, before I knew what was toward, his people stripped me and beat me with rods on my sides, till for the smart of the blows I said, 'I did steal it,' bethinking me that it was better to confess that I stole it than let them know that she who owned it had been murdered in my house, lest they should put me to death for her. So they wrote down that I had stolen it and cut off my hand. The stump they seared with boiling oil and I swooned away: but they gave me wine to drink, and I revived and taking up my hand, was returning to my lodging, when the landlord said to me, 'After what has passed, thou must leave my house and look for another lodging, since thou art convicted of theft.' 'O my lord,' said I, 'have patience with me two or three days, till I look me out a new lodging.' 'So be it,' he answered and I returned to the house, where I sat weeping and saying, 'How shall I return to my people with my hand cut off and they know not that I am innocent?' Then I abode in sore trouble and perplexity for two days, and on the third day the landlord came in to me, and with him some officers of police and the chief of the market, who had accused me of stealing the necklace. I went out to them and enquired what was the matter, but they seized on me, without further parley, and tied my hands behind me and put a chain about my neck, saying, 'The necklet that was with thee has been shown to the Governor of Damascus, and he recognizes it as one that belonged to his daughter, who has been missing these three years.' When I heard this, my heart sank within me, and I said to myself, 'I am lost without resource; but I must needs tell the governor my story; and if he will, let him kill me, and if he will, let him pardon me.' So they carried me to the governor's house and made me stand before him. When he saw me, he looked at me out of the corner of his eye and said to those present, 'Why did ye cut off his hand? This man is unfortunate and hath committed no offense; and indeed ye wronged him in cutting off his hand.' When I heard this, I took heart and said to him, 'By Allah, O my lord, I am no thief! But they accused me of this grave offence and beat me with rods in the midst of the market, bidding me confess, till for the pain of the beating, I lied against myself and confessed to the theft, although I am innocent.' 'Fear not,' said the governor; 'no harm shall come to thee.' Then he laid the chief of the market under arrest, saying to him, 'Give this man the price of his hand, or I will hang thee and seize on all thy goods.' And he cried out to the officers, who took him and dragged him away, leaving me with the governor, who made his people unbind me and take the chain off my neck. Then he looked at me and said, 'O my son, speak the truth and tell me how thou camest by the necklet.' And he repeated the following verse:

To tell the whole truth is thy duty, although It bring thee to burn on the brasier of woe!

'By Allah, O my lord,' answered I, 'such is my intent!' And I told him all that had passed between me and the first lady and how she had brought the second one to me and had slain her out of jealousy. When he heard my story, he shook his head and beat hand upon hand; then putting his handkerchief to his eyes, wept awhile and repeated the following verses:

I see that Fortune's maladies are many upon me, For, every
     dweller in the world, sick unto death is he.
To every gathering of friends there comes a parting day: And few
     indeed on earth are those that are from parting free?

Then he turned to me and said, 'Know, O my son, that she who first came to thee was my eldest daughter. I brought her up in strict seclusion and when she came to womanhood, I sent her to Cairo and married her to my brother's son. After awhile, he died and she came back to me: but she had learnt profligate habits from the natives of Cairo: so she visited thee four times and at last brought her younger sister. Now they were sisters by the same mother and much attached to each other; and when this happened to the elder, she let her sister into her secret, and she desired to go out with her. So she asked thy leave and carried her to thee; after which she returned alone, and I questioned her of her sister, finding her weeping for her; but she said, "I know nothing of her." However, after this, she told her mother privily what had happened and how she had killed her sister; and her mother told me. Then she ceased not to weep and say, "By Allah, I will never leave weeping for her till I die!" And so it fell out. This, O my son, is what happened, and now I desire that thou baulk me not in what I am about to say to thee; it is that I purpose to marry thee to my youngest daughter, for she is a virgin and born of another mother, and I will take no dower from thee, but on the contrary will appoint thee an allowance, and thou shalt be to me as my very son.' 'I will well,' replied I; 'how could I hope for such good fortune?' Then he sent at once for the Cadi and the witnesses and married me to his daughter, and I went in to her. Moreover, he got me a large sum of money from the chief of the market and I became in high favour with him. Soon after, news came to me that my father was dead so the governor despatched a courier to fetch me the property he had left behind him, and now I am living in all prosperity. This is how I came to lose my right hand." His story amazed me (continued the Jew) and I abode with him three days, after which he gave me much money and I set out and travelled, till I reached this thy city. The sojourn liked me well, so I took up my abode here and there befell me what thou knowest with the hunchback.' Quoth the King, 'This thy story is not more wonderful than that of the hunchback, and I will certainly hang you all. However, there still remains the tailor, who was the head of the offending.' Then he said to the tailor, 'O tailor, if thou canst tell me aught more wonderful than the story of the hunchback, I will pardon you all your offenses.' So the tailor came forward and said, 'Know, O King of the age, that a most rare thing happened to me yesterday before I fell in with the hunchback.

The Tailor's Story.

Yesterday morning early I was at an entertainment given by a friend of mine, at which there were assembled near twenty men of the people of the city, amongst them tailors and silk-weavers and carpenters and other craftsmen. As soon as the sun had risen, they set food before us that we might eat, when behold, the master of the house entered, and with him a comely young man, a stranger from Baghdad, dressed in the finest of clothes and perfectly handsome, except that he was lame. He saluted us, while we rose to receive him; and he was about to sit down, when he espied amongst us a certain barber; whereupon he refused to sit and would have gone away. But we stopped him and the host seized him and adjured him, saying, "What is the reason of thy coming in and going out again at once?" "By Allah, O my lord," answered he, "do not hinder me, for the cause of my turning back is yonder barber of ill-omen sitting there." When the host heard this, he wondered and said, "How comes this young man, who is from Baghdad. to be troubled in his mind about this barber?" Then we looked at the young man and said to him, "Tell us the reason of thine anger against the barber." "O company," replied he, "there befell me a strange adventure with this barber in my native city of Baghdad; he was the cause of the breaking of my leg and of my lameness, and I have sworn that I will never sit in the same place with him nor tarry in any city of which he is an inhabitant. I left Baghdad, to be rid of him, and took up my abode in this city and lo, I find him with you! But now not another night shall pass, before I depart hence." So we begged him to sit down and tell us what had passed between him and the barber in Baghdad, whereat the latter changed colour and hung down his head. Then said the young man, "Know, O company, that my father was one of the chief merchants of Baghdad, and God had vouchsafed him no child but myself. When I grew up to man's estate, my father was translated to the mercy of God, leaving me great wealth in money and slaves and servants, and I began to dress handsomely and feed daintily. Now God had made me a hater of women, and one day, as I was going along one of the streets of Baghdad, a company of women stopped the way before me; so I fled from them, and entering a by-street without an outlet, sat down upon a stone bench at the other end. I had not sat long, before the lattice of one of the houses in the street opened and a young lady, as she were the moon at its full, never in my life saw I her like, put forth her head and began to water some flowers she had on the balcony. Then she turned right and left and seeing me watching her, smiled and shut the window and went away. Therewithal, fire flamed up in my heart and my mind was taken up with her, and my hatred (of women) was changed to love. I continued sitting there, lost to the world, till sundown, when the Cadi of the city came riding up the street, with slaves before him and servants behind him, and alighting, entered the very house at which the young lady had appeared. By this I guessed that he was her father; so I went home, sorrowful, and fell on my bed, oppressed with melancholy thoughts. My women came in to me and sat round me, puzzled to know what ailed me; but I would not speak to them nor answer their questions, and they wept and lamented over me. Presently, in came an old woman, who looked at me and saw at once what was the matter with me. So she sat down at my head and spoke me fair and said, 'O my son, tell me what ails thee, and I will bring thee to thy desire.' So I told her what had happened to me, and she said, 'O my son, this girl is the Cadi's daughter of Baghdad; she is kept in strict seclusion, and the window at which thou sawest her is that of her apartment, where she dwells alone, her father occupying a great suite of rooms underneath. I often visit her, and thou shalt not come at her but through me; so gird thy middle and be of good cheer.' So saying, she went away, whilst I took comfort at what she said and arose in the morning well, to the great satisfaction of my people. By-and-by the old woman came in, chopfallen, and said to me, 'O my son, do not ask how I have fared with her! When I opened the subject to her, she said to me, "An thou leave not this talk, pestilent hag that thou art, I will assuredly use thee as thou deserves!" But needs must I have at her again.' When I heard this, it added sickness to my sickness: but after some days, the old woman came again and said to me, 'O my son, I must have of thee a present for good news.' With this, life returned to me, and I said, 'Whatever thou wilt is thine.' Then said she, 'O my son, I went yesterday to the young lady, who seeing me broken-spirited and tearful-eyed, said to me, "O my aunt, what ails thee that I see thy heart thus straitened?" Whereupon I wept and replied, "O my lady, I am just come from a youth who loves thee and is like to die for thy sake." Quoth she (and indeed her heart was moved to pity), "And who is this youth of whom thou speakest?" "He is my son," answered I, "and the darling of my heart. He saw thee, some days since, at the window, tending thy flowers, and fell madly in love with thee. I told him what passed between thee and me the other day, whereupon his disorder increased and he took to his bed and will surely die." At this her colour changed and she said, "Is all this on my account?" "Yea, by Allah!" answered I. "What wouldst thou have me do?" Then said she, "Go back to him and salute him for me and tell him that my sufferings are twice as great as his. And on Friday, before the time of prayer, let him come hither and I will come down and open the door to him. Then I will carry him to my chamber, where we can converse awhile and he can go away, before my father comes back from the mosque."' When I heard this, my anguish ceased and my heart was comforted. So I took off the clothes I was wearing and gave them to the old woman; and she said, 'Be of good cheer.' 'There is no pain left in me,' answered I; and she went away. My household and friends rejoiced in my restoration to health, and I abode thus till Friday, when the old woman entered and asked me how I did, to which I replied that I was well and in good case. Then I dressed and perfumed myself and sat down to await the going in of the folk to the mosque, that I might betake myself to the young lady. But the old woman said to me, 'Thou hast time and to spare; so thou wouldst do well to go to the bath and have thy head shaved, to do away the traces of thy disorder.' 'It is well thought,' answered I; 'I will first have my head shaved and then go to the bath.' Then I said to my servant, 'Go to the market and bring me a barber, and look that he be no meddler, but a man of sense, who will not split my head with his much talk.' So he went out and returned with this wretched old man. When he came in, he saluted me, and I returned his salutation. Then said he, 'Surely, I see thee thin of body.' And I replied, 'I have been ill.' Quoth he, 'God cause affliction and trouble and anxiety to depart from thee!' 'May God hear thy prayer!' answered I: and he said, 'Be of good cheer, O my lord, for indeed recovery is come to thee. Dost thou wish to be polled or let blood? Indeed, it is reported, on the authority of Ibn Abbas[FN#87] (whom God accept!), that the Prophet said, "Whoso is polled on a Friday, God shall avert from him threescore and ten diseases;" and again, "He who is cupped on a Friday is safe from loss of sight and a host of other ailments."' 'Leave this talk,' said I; 'come, shave my head at once, for I am yet weak.' With this he pulled out a handkerchief, from which he took an astrolabe with seven plates, mounted in silver, and going into the courtyard, held the instrument up to the sun's rays and looked for some time. Then he came back and said to me, 'Know that eight degrees and six minutes have elapsed of this our day, which is Friday, the tenth of Sefer, in the six hundred and fifty-third year of the Flight of the Prophet (upon whom be the most excellent of blessing and peace!) and the seven thousand three hundred and twentieth year of the Alexandrian era, and the planet now in the ascendant, according to the rules of mathematics, is Mars, which being in conjunction with Mercury, denotes a favourable time for cutting hair; and this also indicates to me that thou purposest to foregather with some one and that your interview will be propitious; but after this there occurs a sign, respecting a thing which I will not name to thee.' 'By Allah,' exclaimed I, 'thou weariest me and pesterest me with thy foolish auguries, when I only sent for thee to shave my head! So come, shave me at once and give me no more talk.' 'By Allah,' rejoined he, 'if thou knewest what is about to befall thee, thou wouldst do nothing this day; and I counsel thee to do as I shall tell thee, by observation of the stars.' 'By Allah,' said I, 'I never saw a barber skilled in astrology except thee: but I think and know that thou art prodigal of idle talk. I sent for thee to shave my head, and thou plaguest me with this sorry prate!' 'What more wouldst thou have!' replied he. 'God hath vouchsafed thee a barber, who is an astrologer, versed in the arts of alchemy and white magic, syntax, grammar and lexicology, rhetoric and logic, arithmetic, astronomy and geometry, as well as in the knowledge of the Law and the Traditions of the Prophet and in exegesis. Moreover, I have read many books and digested them and have had experience of affairs and understand them thoroughly. In short, I have examined into all things and studied all arts and crafts and sciences and mastered them; and thy father loved me because of my lack of officiousness, for which reason my service is obligatory on thee. I am no meddler, as thou pretendest, and on this account I am known as the Silent, the Grave One. Wherefore it behoves thee to give thanks to God and not cross me for I am a true counsellor to thee and take an affectionate interest in thee. I would I were in thy service a whole year, that thou mightst do me justice: and I would ask no hire of thee for this.' When I heard this, I said, 'Thou wilt certainly be the death of me this day!' 'O my lord,' replied he, 'I am he whom the folk call the Silent, by reason of my few words, to distinguish me from my six brothers, the eldest of whom was called Becbac,[FN#88] the second Heddar,[FN#89] the third Fekic,[FN#90] the fourth El Kouz el Aswani,[FN#91] the fifth El Feshar,[FN#92] the sixth Shecashic[FN#93] and the seventh (myself) Samit[FN#94].' Whilst he thus overwhelmed me with his talk, I thought my gall-bladder would burst so I said to the servant, 'Give him a quarter-dinar and let him go, for God's sake! I won't have my head shaved to-day.' 'What words are these, O my lord?' said he. 'By Allah, I will take no hire of thee till I have served thee; and needs must I serve thee, for indeed it is incumbent on me to do so and fulfil thy need; and I care not if I take no money of thee. If thou knowest not my worth, I know thine; and I owe thy father (may God the Most High have mercy on him!) many a kindness, for he was a generous man. By Allah, he sent for me one day as it were this blessed day, and I went in to him and found a company of his friends with him. He would have had me let him blood; but I pulled out my astrolabe and taking an altitude for him, found the aspect inauspicious and the hour unfavourable for the letting of blood. I told him of this and he conformed to my advice and put off the operation to a more convenient season. So I recited the following verses in his honour:

I came one day unto my lord, that I might let him blood, But
     found that for his body's health the season was not good;
So sat me down and talked with him of many a pleasant thing And
     all the treasures of my mind before him freely strewed.
Well pleased, he listened, then, "O mine of knowledge!" he did
     say, "Thy wit and wisdom overpass the bounds of likelihood!"
"Not so," quoth I; "my wit indeed were little, but for thee, O
     prince of men, that pour'st on me thy wisdom like a flood!
Thou seem'st indeed the lord of grace, bounty and excellence,
     World's treasure-house of knowledge, wit, sense and
     mansuetude!"

Thy father was charmed and cried out to the servant, saying, "Give him a hundred and three dinars and a dress of honour." The servant did as he bade, and I waited till a favourable moment, when I let him blood; and he did not cross me, but thanked me, and all present also praised me. When the cupping was over, I could not help saying to him, "By Allah, O my lord, what made thee say to the servant, 'Give him a hundred and three dinars'?" Quoth he, "One dinar was for the astrological observation, another for thine entertaining converse, the third for the bloodletting and the remaining hundred and the dress for thy verses in my honour."' 'May God show no mercy to my father,' exclaimed I, 'for knowing the like of thee?' He laughed and said, 'There is no god but God and Mohammed is His Apostle! Glory be to Him who changes but is not changed! I took thee for a man of sense; but I see thou dotest for illness. God says, in His precious Book, that Paradise is prepared for "those who restrain their wrath and forgive men", and in any case thou art excused. But I am ignorant of the cause of thy haste, and thou must know that thy father and grandfather did nothing without consulting me, for indeed it is said that he with whom one takes counsel should be trustworthy and that he who takes counsel shall not be disappointed. It is said also that he who hath not an elder (to advise him) will never be an elder himself; and indeed the poet says:

Ere thou decide to venture thyself in aught, Consult an experienced man and cross him not.

And indeed thou wilt find none better versed in affairs than I, and I am here standing on my feet to serve thee. I am not vexed with thee: why shouldst thou be vexed with me? But I will bear with thee for the sake of the favours I owe thy father.' 'By Allah,' exclaimed I, 'O thou whose tongue is as long as a jackass's tail, thou persistest in pestering me with talk and pelting me with words, when all I want of thee is to shave my head and take thyself off!' Then he lathered my head, saying, 'I know that thou art vexed with me, but I bear thee no malice; for thy wit is weak and thou art a boy: it was but yesterday I took thee on my shoulders and carried thee to the school' 'O my brother,'. cried I, 'for God's sake, do what I want and go thy way!' And I rent my clothes. When he saw me do this, he took the razor and fell to sharpening it and stinted not, till I was well-nigh distraught. Then he came up to me and shaved a part of my head, then held his hand and said, 'O my lord, hurry is of the Devil and deliberation of the Merciful One. Methinks thou knowest not my station; verily my hand falls on the heads of kings and amirs and viziers and sages and learned men: and it was of me the poet said:

All the trades are like necklets of jewels and gold And this
     barber indeed's the chief pearl of the strings.
He excelleth all others that boast of their skill. And under his
     hand are the topknots of kings.'

'Leave what concerns thee not,' said I: 'indeed thou hast straitened my breast and troubled my mind.' Quoth he, Meseems thou art in haste. 'Yes, yes, yes!' answered I, and he, 'Thou wouldst do well to proceed with deliberation, for haste is of the Devil and bequeaths repentance and disappointment. Verily he upon whom be blessing and peace[FN#95] hath said, "The best affair is that which is undertaken with deliberation." By Allah, thy case troubles me, and I would have thee let me know what it is thou art in such haste to do, for I fear me it is other than good.' Then said he, 'It wants three hours yet of the time of prayer. However, I do not wish to be in doubt as to this, but am minded to know the time for certain; for speech, when it is conjectural, is but faulty, especially in the like of me, whose merit is plain and known of all men; and it does not befit me to talk at random, as do the common sort of astrologers.' So saying, he threw down the razor and taking up the astrolabe, went out under the sun and stood a long while, after which he returned and said to me, 'It wants three hours of the time of prayer, neither more nor less.' 'By Allah,' answered I, 'hold thy tongue, for thou breakest my heart in pieces!' So he took his razor and after sharpening it as before, shaved another part of my head. Then he said, 'I am concerned about thy haste; and indeed thou wouldst do well to tell me the cause of it, for thou knowest that thy father and grandfather did nothing without my counsel.' When I saw that there was no getting rid of him, I said to myself, 'The time of prayer draws near and I wish to go to her before the folk come out from the mosque. If I am delayed much longer, I know not how I shall come at her.' Then I said to him, 'Be quick and leave this prating and officiousness, for I have to go to an entertainment at the house of one of my friends.' When he heard me speak of an entertainment, he said, 'This thy day is a blessed one for me! Verily, yesterday I invited a party of my intimate friends and I have forgotten to provide aught for them to eat. I bethought me of it but now, on hearing thee speak of an entertainment. Alack, how I shall be disgraced in their eyes!' 'Be in no concern for that,' answered I. 'Have I not told thee that I am bidden abroad to-day? All the meat and drink in the house shall be thine, so thou despatch my affair and make haste to shave my head.' 'God requite thee with good!' rejoined he. 'Tell me what thou hast for my guests, that I may know.' Quoth I, 'I have five dishes of meat and ten fricasseed fowls and a roasted lamb.' 'Bring them out to me,' said he, 'that I may see them.' So I had all this brought, and when he saw it, he said, 'There lacks the wine.' 'I have a flagon or two in the house,' answered I; and he said, 'Have it brought out.' So I sent for it, and he exclaimed, 'God bless thee for a generous soul! But there are still the perfumes and the essences.' So I brought him a box, containing fifty dinars' worth of aloes-wood and ambergris and musk and other perfumes. By this, the time began to run short and my heart was straitened; so I said to him, 'Take it all and finish shaving my head, by the life of Mohammed, whom God bless and preserve!' 'By Allah,' said he, 'I will not take it till I see all that is in it.' So I made the servant open the box, and the barber threw down the astrolabe and sitting down on the ground, turned over the contents, till I was well-nigh distracted. Then he took the razor and coming up to me, shaved some little of my head and recited the following verse:

The boy after his father's guise grows up and follows suit As surely as the tree springs up from out its parent root.

Then said he, 'O my son, I know not whether to thank thee or thy father; for my entertainment to-day is all due to thy kindness and liberality, and none of my company is worthy of it; though I have none but men of consideration, such as Zentout the bath-keeper and Selya the corn-chandler and Silet the bean-seller and Akresheh the grocer and Hemid the scavenger and Said the camel-driver and Suweyd the porter and Abou Mukarish the bathman[FN#96] and Cassim the watchman and Kerim the groom. There is not among them all one curmudgeon or make-bate or meddler or spoil-sport; each has his own dance that he dances and his own couplets that he repeats, and the best of them is that they are like thy servant, knowing not abundance of talk nor meddlesomeness. The bath-keeper sings enchantingly to the tambourine and dances and says, "I am going, O my mother, to fill my jar!" As for the corn-chandler, he brings more skill to it than any of them; he dances and says, "O mourner, my mistress, thou dost not fall short!" and draws the very heart out of one for laughing at him. Whilst the scavenger sings, so that the birds stop to listen to him, and dances and says, "News with my wife is not kept in a chest!" And indeed he is a witty, accomplished rogue, and of his excellence I use to say the following:

My life redeem the scavenger! I love him passing dear, For, in
     his goodly gait, he's like the zephyr-shaken bough.
Fate blessed my eyes with him one night; and I to him did say,
     (Whilst in my bosom, as I spoke, desire did ebb and flow,)
"Thou'st lit thy fire within my heart!" Whereto he answer made
     "What wonder though the scavenger have turned a
     fire-man[FN#97] now?"

And indeed each is perfection in all that can charm the wit with mirth and jollity. But hearing is not like seeing; and indeed if thou wilt join us and put off going to thy friends, it will be better both for us and for thee: for the traces of sickness are yet upon thee and belike thou art going amongst talkative folk, who will prate of what does not concern them, or there may be amongst them some impertinent busybody who will split thy head, and thou still weak from illness.' 'This shall be for another day,' answered I and laughed in spite of my anger. 'Finish what thou hast to do for me and go in peace and enjoy thyself with thy friends, for they will be awaiting thy coming.' 'O my lord,' replied he, 'I only seek to bring thee in company with these pleasant folk, amongst whom there is neither meddlesomeness nor excess of talk; for never, since I came to years of discretion, could I endure to consort with those who ask of what concerns them not, nor with any except those who are, like myself, men of few words. Verily, if thou wert once to see them and company with them, thou wouldst forsake all thy friends.' 'God fulfil thy gladness with them!' rejoined I. 'Needs must I foregather with them one of these days.' And he said, 'I would it were to be to-day, for I had made up my mind that thou shouldst make one of us: but if thou must indeed go to thy friends to-day, I will take the good things, with which thy bounty hath provided me for them, to my guests, and leave them to eat and drink, without waiting for me, whilst I return to thee in haste and accompany thee whither thou goest; for there is no ceremony between me and my friends to hinder me from leaving them.' 'There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme!' cried I. 'Go thou to thy friends and make merry with them and let me go to mine and be with them this day, for they expect me.' 'I will not let thee go alone,' replied he: and I said, 'None can enter where I am going but myself.' Then said he, 'I believe thou hast an assignation with some woman to-day; else thou wouldst take me with thee, for it is the like of me that furnishes a merry-making; or if thou go to any one with whom thou wouldst be private, I am the fittest of all men for thy purpose, for I would help thee to what thou desirest and look that none saw thee. I fear lest thou go in to some strange woman and lose thy life; for in this city one cannot do aught of the kind, especially on a day like this and under so keen and masterful a chief of the police as ours of Baghdad.' 'Out on thee, O wretched old man!' cried I. 'Avaunt! what words are these thou givest me?' 'O dolt!' rejoined he, 'thou sayest to me what is not true and hidest thy mind from me; but I know that this is so and am certain of it, and I only seek to help thee this day.' I was fearful lest my people or the neighbours should hear the barber's talk, so kept silence, whilst he finished shaving my head; by which time the hour of prayer was come and it was wellnigh time for the exhortation.[FN#98] When he had done, I said to him, 'Take the meat and drink and carry them to thy friends. I will await thy return.' For I thought it best to dissemble with the accursed fellow and feign compliance with his wishes, so haply he might go away and leave me. Quoth he, 'Thou art deceiving me and wilt go alone and cast thyself into some peril, from which there will be no escape for thee. For God's sake, do not go till I return, that I may accompany thee and see what comes of thine affair.' 'It is well,' answered I: 'do not be long absent.' Then he took all that I had given him and went out; but, instead of going home with it, the cursed fellow delivered it to a porter, to carry to his house, and hid himself in a by-street. As for me, I rose at once, for the Muezzins had already chanted the Salutation,[FN#99] and, dressing myself in haste, went out and hurried to the house where I had seen the young lady. I found the old woman standing at the door, awaiting me, and went up with her to the young lady's apartment. Hardly had I done so, when the master of the house returned from the mosque and entering the saloon, shut the door. I looked out from the window and saw this barber (God's malison on him!) sitting over against the door, and said, 'How did this devil find me out?' At this moment, as God had decreed it for my undoing, it befell that a slave-girl belonging to the master of the house committed some offence, for which he beat her. She cried out, and a male slave came in to deliver her, whereupon the Cadi beat him also, and he too cried out. The cursed barber concluded that it was I he was beating and fell to tearing his clothes and strewing dust on his head, shrieking and calling for help. So the folk came round him, and he said to them, 'My master is being murdered in the Cadi's house!' Then he ran, shrieking, to my house, with the folk after him, and told my people and servants: and before I knew what was forward, up they came, with torn clothes and dishevelled hair, calling out, 'Alas, our master!' and the barber at their head, in a fine pickle, tearing his clothes and shouting. They made for the house in which I was, headed by the barber, crying out, 'Woe is us for our murdered master!' And the Cadi, hearing the uproar at his door, said to one of his servants, 'Go and see what is the matter.' The man went out and came back, saying, 'O my lord, there are more than ten thousand men and women at the door, crying out, "Woe is us for our murdered master!" and pointing to our house.' When the Cadi heard this, he was troubled and vexed; so he went to the door and opening it, saw a great concourse of people; whereat he was amazed and said, 'O folk, what is the matter?' 'O accursed one, O dog, O hog,' replied my servants, 'thou hast killed our master!' Quoth he, 'And what has your master done to me that I should kill him? Behold, this my house is open to you!' 'Thou didst beat him but now with rods,' answered the barber; 'for I heard his cries.' 'What has he done that I should beat him?' repeated the Cadi; 'and what brings him into my house?' 'Be not a vile, perverse old man!' replied the barber; 'I know the whole story. The long and the short of it is that thy daughter is in love with him and he with her; and when thou knewest that he had entered the house, thou badest thy servants beat him, and they did so. By Allah, none shall judge between us and thee but the Khalif! So bring us out our master, that his people may take him, before I go and fetch him forth of thy house and thou be put to shame.' When the Cadi heard this, he was dumb for amazement and confusion before the people, but presently said to the barber, 'If thou speak truth, come in and fetch him out.' Whereupon the barber pushed forward and entered the house. When I saw this, I looked about for a means of escape, but saw no hiding-place save a great chest that stood in the room. So I got into the chest and pulled the lid down on me and held my breath. Hardly had I done this, when the barber came straight to the place where I was and catching up the chest, set it on his head and made off with it in haste. At this, my reason forsook me and I was assured that he would not let me be; so I took courage and opening the chest, threw myself to the ground. My leg was broken in the fall, and the door of the house being opened, I saw without a great crowd of people. Now I had much gold in my sleeve, which I had provided against the like of this occasion; so I fell to scattering it among the people, to divert their attention from me; and whilst they were busy scrambling for it, I set off running through the by-streets of Baghdad, and this cursed barber, whom nothing could divert from me, after me. Wherever I went, he followed, crying out, 'They would have bereft me of my master and slain him who has been a benefactor to me and my family and friends! But praised be God who aided me against them and delivered my lord from their hands! Where wilt thou go now? Thou persistedst in following thine own evil devices, till thou broughtest thyself to this pass, and if God had not vouchsafed me to thee, thou hadst never won free from this strait, for they would have plunged thee into irremediable ruin. How long dost thou expect I shall live to save thee? By Allah, thou hast well-nigh undone me by thy folly and thy perverseness in wishing to go by thyself! But I will not reproach thee with ignorance, for thou art little of wit and hasty.' 'Does not what thou hast brought upon me suffice thee,' replied I, 'but thou must pursue me with the like of this talk through the public streets?' And I well-nigh gave up the ghost for excess of rage against him. Then I took refuge in the shop of a weaver in the midst of the market and sought protection of the owner, who drove the barber away. I sat down in the back shop and said to myself, 'If I return home, I shall never be able to get rid of this accursed barber, for he will be with me night and day, and I cannot endure the sight of him.' So I sent out at once for witnesses and made a will, dividing the greater part of my money among my people, and appointed a guardian over them, to whom I committed the charge of great and small directing him to sell my house and estates. Then I set out at once on my travels, that I might be free of this ruffian, and came to settle in your town, where I have lived for some time. When you invited me and I came hither the first thing I saw was this accursed pimp seated in the place of honour. How, then, can I be at my ease and how can it be pleasant to me to consort with you, in company with this fellow, who brought all this upon me and was the cause of the breaking of my leg and of my exile from my country and family?" And he refused to sit down and went away. When we heard the young man's story (continued the tailor), we were beyond measure amazed and diverted and said to the barber, "Is it true that this young man says of thee?" "By Allah," replied he, "I dealt thus with him of my courtesy and good sense and humanity. But for me, he had perished and none but I was the cause of his escape. Well for him that it was in his leg that he suffered and not in his life! Were I a man of many words or a busybody, I had not done him this kindness; but now I will tell you something that happened to me, that ye may know that I am indeed sparing of speech and no impertinent meddler, as were my six brothers; and it is this:

The Barber's Story.

I was living at Baghdad, in the time of the Khalif Mustensir Billah,[FN#100] who loved the poor and needy and companied with the learned and the pious. One day, it befell that he was wroth with a band of highway robbers, ten in number, who infested the neighbourhood, and ordered the chief of the Baghdad police to bring them before him on the day of the Festival. So the prefect sallied out and capturing the robbers, embarked with them in a boat. I caught sight of them, as they were embarking, and said to myself, 'These people are surely bound on some party of pleasure; methinks they mean to spend the day in eating and drinking, and none shall be their messmate but I.' So, of the greatness of my courtesy and the gravity of my understanding, I embarked in the boat and mingled with them. They rowed across to the opposite bank, where they landed, and there came up soldiers and police officers with chains, which they put round the necks of the robbers. They chained me with the rest, and, O company, is it not a proof of my courtesy and spareness of speech that I kept silence and did not choose to speak? Then they took us away in chains and next morning they carried us all before the Commander of the Faithful, who bade strike off the heads of the ten robbers. So the herdsman came forward and made us kneel before him on the carpet of blood;[FN#101] then drawing his sword, struck off one head after another, till none was left but myself. The Khalif looked at me and said to the headsman, 'What ails thee thou thou struck off but nine heads?' 'God forbid,' replied he, 'that I should behead only nine, when thou didst order me to behead ten!' Quoth the Khalif, 'Meseems, thou hast beheaded but nine and he who is before thee is the tenth.' 'By thy munificence,' replied the headsman, 'I have beheaded ten!' So they counted the dead men, and behold, they were ten. Then said the Khalif to me, 'What made thee keep silence at such a time and how camest thou in company with these men of blood? Thou art a man of great age, but assuredly thy wit is but little.' When I heard the Khalif's words, I replied, 'Know, O Commander of the Faithful, that I am the Silent Elder, and am thus called to distinguish me from my six brothers. I am a man of great learning, whilst, as for the gravity of my understanding, the excellence of my apprehension and the spareness of my speech, there is no end to them; and by craft I am a barber. I went out early yesterday morning and saw these ten men making for a boat, and thinking they were bound on a party of pleasure, joined myself to them and embarked with them. After awhile, there came up the officers, who put chains round their necks and round mine amongst the rest, but in the excess of my courtesy, I kept silence and did not speak, nor was this other than generosity on my part. Then they brought us before thee and thou didst order the ten robbers' heads to be stricken off; yet did I not make myself known to thee, purely of my great generosity and courtesy, which led me to share with them in their death. But all my life have I dealt thus nobly with the folk, and they still requite me after the foulest fashion.' When the Khalif heard what I said and knew that I was a man of exceeding generosity and few words and no meddler (as this young man would have it, whom I rescued from horrors and who has so scurvily repaid me), he laughed so immoderately that he fell backward. Then said he to me, 'O silent man, are thy six brothers like thee distinguished for wisdom and knowledge and spareness of speech?' 'Never were they like me,' answered I; 'thou dost me injustice, O Commander of the Faithful, and it becomes thee not to even my brothers with me: for, of the abundance of their speech and their lack of conduct and courtesy, each one of them has gotten some bodily defect. One is blind of an eye, another paralysed, a third blind, a fourth cropped of the ears and nose, a fifth crop-lipped and a sixth hunchbacked and a cripple. Thou must not think, O Commander of the Faithful, that I am a man of many words; but I must needs explain to thee that I am a man of greater worth and of fewer words than they. By each one of my brothers hangs a tale of how he came by his defect, [FN#102] and these I will relate to thee. Know then, O Commander of the Faithful that

Story of the Barber's First Brother.

My first brother, the hunchback, was a tailor in Baghdad, and plied his craft in a shop, which he hired of a very rich man, who dwelt over against him and had a mill in the lower part of the house. One day, as my brother the hunchback was sitting in his shop, sewing, he chanced to raise his head and saw, at the bay-window of his landlord's house, a lady like the rising full moon, engaged in looking at the passers-by. His heart was taken with love of her and he passed the day gazing at her and neglecting his business, till the evening. Next day, he opened his shop and sat down to sew: but as often as he made a stitch, he looked at the bay-window and saw her as before; and his passion and infatuation for her redoubled. On the third day, as he was sitting in his usual place, gazing on her, she caught sight of him, and perceiving that he had fallen a captive to her love, smiled in his face, and he smiled back at her. Then she withdrew and sent her slave-girl to him with a parcel of red flowered silk. The girl accosted him and said to him, "My lady salutes thee and would have thee cut out for her, with a skilful hand, a shift of this stuff and sew it handsomely." "I hear and obey," answered he; and cut out the shift and made an end of sewing it the same day. Next morning early, the girl came back and said to him, "My mistress salutes thee and would fain know how thou hast passed the night; for she has not tasted sleep by reason of her heart being taken up with thee." Then she laid before him a piece of yellow satin and said to him, "My mistress bids thee cut her two pairs of trousers of this stuff and sew them this day." "I hear and obey," answered he; "salute her for me with abundant salutation and say to her, 'Thy slave is obedient to thy commands so order him as thou wilt.'" Then he applied himself to cut out the trousers and used all diligence in sewing them. Presently the lady appeared at the window and saluted him by signs, now casting down her eyes and now smiling in his face, so that he made sure of getting his will of her. She did not let him budge till he had finished the two pairs of trousers, when she withdrew and sent the slave-girl, to whom he delivered them, and she took them and went away. When it was night, he threw himself on his bed and tossed from side to side, till morning, when he rose and sat down in his shop. By-and-by, the slave-girl came to him and said, "My master calls for thee." When he heard this, he was afraid; but the girl, seeing his alarm, to him, "Fear not: nought but good shall befall thee. My lady would have thee make acquaintance with my master." So my brother rejoiced greatly and went out with her. When he came into his landlord's presence he kissed the earth before him, and the latter returned his salute; then gave him a great piece of linen, saying, "Make this into shirts for me." "I hear and obey," replied my brother, and fell to work at once and cut out twenty shirts by nightfall, without stopping to taste food. Then said the husband "What is thy hire for this?" "Twenty dirhems," answered my brother. So the man cried out to the slave-girl to give him twenty dirhems; but the lady signed to my brother not to take them, and he said, "By Allah, I will take nothing from thee!" And took his work and went away, though he was sorely in want of money. Then he applied himself to do their work, eating and drinking but little for three days, in his great diligence. At the end of this time, the slave-girl came to him and said, "What hast thou done?" Quoth he, "They are finished;" and carried the shirts to his landlord, who would have paid him his hire; but he said, "I will take nothing," for fear of the lady, and returning to his shop, passed the night without sleep for hunger. Now the lady had told her husband how the case stood, and they had agreed to take advantage of his infatuation to make him sew for them for nothing and laugh at him. Next morning, as he sat in his shop, the servant came to him and said, "My master would speak with thee." So he accompanied her to the husband, who said to him, "I wish thee to make me five cassocks." So he cut them out and took the stuff and went away. Then he sewed them and carried them to the man, who praised his work and offered him a purse of money. He put out his hand to take it, but the lady signed to him from behind her husband not to do so, and he replied, "O my lord, there is no hurry: by-and-by." Then he went out, more abject than an ass, for verily five things at once were sore upon him, love and beggary and hunger and nakedness and toil; nevertheless, he heartened himself with the hope of gaining the lady's favours. When he had made an end of all their work, they put a cheat upon him and married him to their slave-girl. but when he thought to go in to her, they said to him, "Lie this night in the mill; and to-morrow all will be well." My brother concluded that there was some good reason for this and passed the night alone in the mill. Now the husband had set on the miller to make my brother turn the mill; so in the middle of the night, the miller came in and began to say, "This ox is lazy and stands still and will not turn, and there is much wheat to be ground. So I will yoke him and make him finish grinding it this night, for the folk are impatient for their flour." Then he filled the hoppers with grain and going up to my brother, with a rope in his hand, bound him to the yoke and said to him, "Come, turn the mill! Thou thinkest of nothing but eating and voiding." Then he took a whip and laid on to my brother, who began to weep and cry out; but none came to his aid, and he was forced to grind the wheat till near daylight, when the husband came in and seeing him yoked to the shaft and the miller flogging him, went away. At daybreak the miller went away and left him still yoked and well nigh dead; and soon after in came the slave-girl, who unbound him and said to him, "I am grieved for what has befallen thee, and both I and my lady are full of concern for thee." But he had no tongue wherewith to answer her, for excess of beating and toil. Then he returned to his lodging, and presently the notary who had drawn up the marriage contract came to him and saluted him, saying, "God give thee long life! May thy marriage be blessed! Thou hast doubtless passed the night clipping and kissing and dalliance from dusk to dawn." "May God curse thee for a liar, thousandfold cuckold that thou art!" replied my brother. "By Allah, I did nothing but turn the mill in the place of the ox all night!" Quoth the notary, "Tell me thy story." So my brother told him what had happened, and he said, "Thy star agrees not with hers: but if thou wilt, I can alter the contract for thee." And my brother answered, "See if thou have another device." Then the notary left him and he sat down in his shop, till some one should bring him work by which he might earn his day's bread. Presently the slave-girl came to him and said, "My mistress would speak with thee." "Go, my good girl," replied he; "I will have no more to do with thy mistress." So the girl returned to her mistress and told her what my brother had said, and presently she put her head out of the window, weeping and saying, "O my beloved, why wilt thou have no more to do with me?" But he made her no answer. Then she swore to him that all that had befallen him in the mill was without her sanction and that she was guiltless of the whole affair. When he saw her beauty and grace and heard the sweetness of her speech, he forgot what had befallen him and accepted her excuse and rejoiced in her sight. So he saluted her and talked with her and sat at his sewing awhile, after which the servant came to him and said, "My mistress salutes thee and would have thee to know that her husband purposes to lie this night abroad with some intimate friends of his; so when he is gone, do thou come to us and pass the night with her in all delight till the morning." Now the man had said to his wile, "How shall we do to turn him away from thee?" Quoth she, "Let me play him another trick and make him a byword in the city." But my brother knew nothing of the malice of women. As soon as it was night, the servant came to him and carried him to the house; and when the lady saw him, she said to him, "By Allah, O my lord, I have been longing for thee!" "By Allah," replied he, "make haste and give me a kiss first of all." Hardly had he spoken, when the master of the house came in from an inner room and seized him, saying, "By Allah, I will not let thee go, till I deliver thee to the chief of the police." My brother humbled himself to him; but he would not listen to him and carried him to the prefect, who gave him a hundred lashes with a whip and mounting him on a camel, paraded him about the city, whilst the folk proclaimed aloud, "This is the punishment of those who violate people's harems!" Moreover, he fell off the camel and broke his leg and so became lame. Then the prefect banished him from the city and he went forth, not knowing whither to turn; but I heard of his mishap and going out after him, brought him back and took him to live with me.'

The Khalif laughed at my story and said, 'Thou hast done well, O Silent One, O man of few words!' and bade me take a present and go away. But I said, 'I will take nothing except I tell thee what befell my other brothers: and do not think me a man of many words. Know, O Commander of the Faithful, that

Story of the Barber's Second Brother.

My second brother's name was Becbac and he was the paralytic. One day, as he was going about his business, an old woman accosted him and said to him, "Harkye, stop a little, that I may tell thee of somewhat, which, if it please thee, thou shalt do for me." My brother stopped and she went on, "I will put thee in the way of a certain thing, so thy words be not many." "Say on," replied my brother; and she, "What sayest thou to a handsome house and a pleasant garden, with running waters and fruits and wine and a fair-faced one to hold in thine arms from dark till dawn?" "And is all this in the world?" asked my brother. "Yes," answered she; "and it shall be thine, so thou be reasonable and leave impertinent curiosity and many words and do as I bid thee." "I will well, O my lady," rejoined my brother; "but what made thee choose me of all men for this affair and what is it pleases thee in me?" Quoth she, "Did I not bid thee be sparing of speech? Hold thy peace and follow me. Thou must know that the young lady, to whom I shall carry thee, loves to have her own way and hates to be crossed, so if thou fall in with her humour, thou shalt come to thy desire of her." And my brother said, "I will not thwart her in aught." Then she went on and he followed her, eager to enjoy what she had promised him, till she brought him to a fine large house, richly furnished and full of servants, and carried him to an upper story. When the people of the house saw him, they said to him, "What dost thou here?" But the old woman bade them, "Let him be and trouble him not; for he is a workman and we have occasion for him." Then she brought him into a fine great gallery, with a fair garden in its midst, and made him sit down upon a handsome couch. He had not sat long, before he heard a great noise and in came a troop of damsels, with a lady in their midst, as she were the moon on the night of its full. When he saw her, he rose and made an obeisance to her; whereupon she bade him welcome and ordered him to be seated. So he sat down and she said to him. "God advance thee! Is all well with thee?" "O my lady," replied my brother, "all is well." Then she called for food, and they brought her a table richly served. So she sat down to eat, making a show of affection to my brother and jesting with him, though all the while she could not keep from laughing: but as often as he looked at her, she signed towards the waiting-maids, as if she laughed at them. My ass of a brother understood nothing, but concluded, in the blindness of his doting, that the lady was in love with him and would admit him to his desire. When they had finished eating, they set on wine, and there came in ten damsels like moons, with strung lutes in their hands, and fell a singing right melodiously; whereupon delight got hold upon him and he took the cup from the lady's hands and drank it off. Then she drank a cup of wine, and he rose and bowed to her, saying, "Health to thee!" She filled him another cup and he drank it off, and she gave him a cuff on the nape of his neck; whereupon he rose and went out in a rage; but the old woman followed him and winked to him to return. So he came back and the lady bade him sit, and he sat down without speaking. Then she dealt him a second cuff, and nothing would serve her but she must make all her maids cuff him also. Quoth he to the old woman, "Never saw I aught finer than this!" And she kept saying, "Enough, enough, I conjure thee, O my lady!" The women cuffed him till he was well-nigh senseless, and he rose and went out again in a rage; but the old woman followed him and said, "Wait a little, and thou shalt come to what thou wishest." "How much longer must I wait?" asked he. "Indeed I am faint with cuffing." "As soon as she is warm with wine," answered she, "thou shalt have thy desire." So he returned to his place and sat down, whereupon all the damsels rose and the lady bade them fumigate him and sprinkle rose-water on his face. Then said she to him, "God advance thee! Thou hast entered my house and submitted to my conditions; for whoso thwarts me, I turn him away, but he who is patient has his desire." "O my lady," replied he, "I am thy slave and in the hollow of thy hand." "Know then," continued she, "that God has made me passionately fond of frolic, and whoso falls in with my humour comes by what he wishes." Then she ordered the damsels to sing with loud voices, and they sang, till the whole company was in ecstasy: after which she said to one of the maids, "Take thy lord and do what is wanting to him and bring him back to me forthright." So the damsel took my brother, who knew not what she would do with him; but the old woman came up to him and said, "Be patient; there remains but little to do." At this his face cleared and he said, "Tell me what she would have the maid do with me." "Nothing but good," replied she, as I am thy ransom. She only wishes to dye thine eyebrows and pluck out thy moustaches." Quoth he, "As for the dyeing of my eyebrows, that will come off with washing, but the plucking out of my moustaches will be irksome." "Beware of crossing her," said the old woman; "for her heart is set on thee." So my brother suffered them to dye his eyebrows and pluck out his moustaches, after which the damsel returned to her mistress and told her. Quoth she, "There is one thing more to be done; thou must shave his chin, that he may be beardless." So the maid went back and told my brother what her mistress bade her do, whereupon cried my fool of a brother, "How can I do what will dishonour me among the folk?" But the old woman said, "She only wishes to do thus with thee, that thou mayst be as a beardless youth and that no hair may be left on thy face to prick her; for she is passionately in love with thee. Be patient and thou shalt attain thy desire." So he submitted to have his beard shaved off and his face rouged, after which they carried him back to the lady. When she saw him with his eyebrows dyed, his whiskers and moustaches plucked out, his beard shaved off and his face rouged, she was affrighted at him, then laughed till she fell backward and said, "O my lord, thou hast won my heart with thy good nature!" Then she conjured him, by her life, to rise and dance; so he began to dance, and there was not a cushion in the place but she threw it at him, whilst the damsels pelted him with oranges and limes and citrons, till he fell down senseless. When he came to himself, the old woman said to him, "Now thou hast attained thy desire. There is no more beating for thee and there remains but one thing more. It is her wont, when she is heated with wine, to let no one have to do with her till she put off her clothes and remain stark naked. Then she will bid thee strip, in like manner, and run before thee from place to place, as if she fled from thee, and thou after her, till thy yard be in good point, when she will stop and give herself up to thee. So now rise and put off thy clothes." So he rose, well-nigh beside himself, and stripped himself stark naked; whereupon the lady stripped also and saying to my brother, "Follow me, if thou desire aught," set off running in at one place and out at another and he after her, transported for desire, till his yard rose, as he were mad. Presently she entered a dark passage, and in following her, he trod upon a soft place, which gave way with him, and before he knew where he was, he found himself in the midst of the market of the fell-mongers, who were calling skins for sale and buying and selling. When they saw him in this plight, naked, with yard on end, shaven face, dyed eyebrows and rouged cheeks, they cried out and clapped their hands at him and flogged him with skins upon his naked body, till he swooned away; when they set him on an ass and carried him to the chief of the police, who said, "What is this?" Quoth they, "This fellow came out upon us from the Vizier's house, in this plight." So the prefect gave him a hundred lashes and banished him from Baghdad. However, I went out after him and brought him back privily into the city and made him an allowance for his living, though, but for my generous disposition, I had not put up with such a fellow.

Story of the Barber's Third Brother

The name of my third brother was Fekic and he was blind. One day, chance and destiny led him to a great house and he knocked at the door, desiring speech of the owner, that he might beg of him somewhat. Quoth the master of the house, "Who is at the door?" But my brother was silent and heard him repeat, in a loud voice, "Who is there?" Still he made no answer and presently heard the master come to the door and open it and say, "What dost thou want?" "Charity," replied my brother, "for the love of God the Most High!" "Art thou blind?" asked the man; and my brother said, "Yes." Quoth the other, "Give me thy hand." So my brother put out his hand, thinking that he would give him something; but he took it and drawing him into the house, carried him up, from stair to stair, till they reached the housetop, my brother thinking the while that he would surely give him food or money. Then said he to my brother, "What dost thou want, O blind man?" "Charity, for the love of God!" repeated my brother. "God succour thee!"[FN#103] answered the master of the house. "O man," answered my brother, "why couldst thou not tell me this downstairs?" "O loser," answered he, "why didst thou not answer me, when I asked who was at the door?" Quoth my brother, "What wilt thou with me now?" And the other replied, "I have nothing to give thee." "Then take me down again," said my brother. But he answered, "The way lies before thee." So my brother rose and made his way down the stairs, till he came within twenty steps of the door, when his foot slipped and he rolled to the bottom and broke his head. Then he went out, knowing not whither to turn, and presently fell in with other two blind men, comrades of his, who enquired how he had fared that day. He told them what had passed and said to them, "O my brothers, I wish to take some of the money in my hands and provide my self with it." Now the master of the house had followed him and heard what they said, but neither my brother nor his fellows knew of this. So my brother went on to his lodging and sat down to await his comrades, and the owner of the house entered after him without his knowledge. When the other blind men arrived, my brother said to them, "Shut the door and search the house, lest any stranger have followed us." The intruder, hearing this, caught hold of a rope that hung from the ceiling and clung to it, whilst the blind men searched the whole place, but found nothing. So they came back and sitting down beside my brother, brought out their money, which they counted, and lo, it was twelve thousand dirhems. Each took what he wanted and the rest they buried in a corner of the room. Then they set on food and sat down to eat. Presently my brother heard a strange pair of jaws wagging at his side; so he said to his comrades, "There is a stranger amongst us;" and putting out his hand, caught hold of that of the intruder. Therewith they all fell on him and beat him, crying out, "O Muslims, a thief is come in to us, seeking to take our property!" So much people flocked to them, whereupon the owner of the house caught hold of the blind men and shutting his eyes, feigned to be blind like unto them, so that none doubted of it. Then he complained of them, even as they of him, crying out, "O Muslims, I appeal to God and the Sultan and the chief of the police! I have a grave matter to make known to the chief of the police." At this moment, up came the watch and seizing them all, dragged them before the chief of the police, who enquired what was the matter. Quoth the spy, "See here; thou shalt come at nought except by torture: so begin by beating me, and after me, beat this my captain." And he pointed to my brother. So they threw the man down and gave him four hundred strokes on the backside. The beating pained him, and he opened one eye; and as they redoubled their blows, he opened the other. When the chief of the police saw this, he said to him, "What is this, O accursed one?" "Give me the seal-ring of pardon!" replied he. "We are four who feign ourselves blind and impose upon people, that we may enter houses and gaze upon women and contrive for their corruption. In this way, we have gotten much money, even twelve thousand dirhems. So I said to my comrades, 'Give me my share, three thousand dirhems.' But they fell on me and beat me and took away my money, and I appeal to God and thee for protection; better thou have my share than they. So, an thou wouldst know the truth of my words, beat each of the others more than thou hast beaten me and he will surely open his eyes." The prefect bade begin with my brother: so they bound him to the whipping-post,[FN#104] and the prefect said, "O rascals, do ye abjure the gracious gifts of God and pretend to be blind?" "Allah! Allah!" cried my brother, "by Allah, there is not one amongst us who can see!" Then they beat him, till he fainted and the prefect said, "Leave him till he revives and then beat him again." And he caused each of the others to be beaten with more than three hundred blows, whilst the sham blind man stood by, saying to them, "Open your eyes, or you will be beaten anew." Then he said to the prefect, "Send some one with me to fetch the money, for these fellows will not open their eyes, lest they be put to shame before the folk." So the prefect sent to fetch the money and gave the impostor three thousand dirhems to his pretended share. The rest he took for himself and banished the three blind men from the city. But, O Commander of the Faithful, I went out and overtaking my brother, questioned him of his case; whereupon he told me what I have told thee. So I carried him back privily into the city and appointed him in secret wherewithal to eat and drink.' The Khalif laughed at my story and said, 'Give him a present and let him go.' By Allah,' rejoined I, 'I will take nothing till I have made known to the Commander of the Faithful what happened to my other brothers, for I am a man of few words.' Then I went on as follows

Story of the Barber's Fourth Brother.

'My fourth brother, the one-eyed, was a butcher at Baghdad, who sold meat and reared rams; and the notables and men of wealth used to buy meat of him, so that he amassed much wealth and got him cattle and houses. He fared thus a long while' till one day, as he was sitting in his shop, there came up to him an old man with a long beard, who laid down some money and said, "Give me meat for this." So he gave him his money's worth of meat, and the old man went away. My brother looked at the money he had paid him, and seeing that it was brilliantly white, laid it aside by itself. The old man continued to pay him frequent visits for five months, and my brother threw the money he received from him into a chest by itself. At the end of this time, he thought to take out the money to buy sheep; so he opened the chest, but found in it nothing but white paper, cut round. When he saw this, he buffeted his face and cried out, till the folk came round him and he told them his story, at which they wondered. Then he rose, as of his wont, and slaughtering a ram, hung it up within the shop; after which he cut off some of the meat and hung it up outside, saying the while, "Would God that pestilent old man would come!" And surely before long up came the old man, with his money in his hand; whereupon my brother rose and caught hold of him, crying out, "Come to my help, O Muslims, and hear what befell me with this scoundrel!" When the old man heard this, he said to him, "An thou loose me not, I will expose thee before the folk!" "In what wilt thou expose me?" asked my brother, and the other replied, "In that thou sellest man's flesh for mutton." "Thou liest, O accursed one!" cried my brother: and the old man said, "He is the accursed one who has a man hanging up in his shop." "If it be as thou sayest," rejoined my brother, "I give thee leave to take my property and my life." Then said the old man, "Ho, people of the city! an ye would prove the truth of my words, enter this man's shop." So they rushed into the shop, when they saw the ram was become a dead man hanging up and seized on my brother, crying out, "O infidel! O villain!" And his best friends fell to beating him and saying, "Dost thou give us man's flesh to eat?" Moreover, the old man struck him on the eye and put it out. Then they carried the carcase to the chief of the police, to whom said the old man, "O Amir, this fellow slaughters men and sells their flesh for mutton, and we have brought him to thee; so arise and execute the justice of God, to whom belong might and majesty!" My brother would have defended himself, but the prefect refused to hear him and sentenced him to receive five hundred blows with a stick and to forfeit all his property. And indeed, but for his wealth, they had put him to death. Then he banished him from the city and my brother fared forth at a venture, till he came to a great city, where he thought well to set up as a cobbler. So he opened a shop and fell to working for his living. One day, as he went on an occasion, he heard the tramp of horse, and enquiring the cause, was told that the King was going out to hunt and stopped to look on his state. It chanced that the King's eye met his, whereupon he bowed his head, saying, "I take refuge with God from the evil of this day!" And drawing bridle, rode back to his palace, followed by his retinue. Then he gave an order to his guards, who seized my brother and beat him grievously, till he was well-nigh dead, without telling him the reason: after which he returned to his shop, in a sorry plight, and told one of the King's household, who laughed till he fell backward and said to him, "O my brother, know that the King cannot endure the sight of a one-eyed man; especially if he be blind of the left eye, in which case, he does not let him go without killing him." When my brother heard this, he resolved to fly that city, so went forth and repaired to another country, where he was known of none. Here he abode a long while, till one day, being heavy at heart for what had befallen him, he went out to divert himself. As he was walking along, he heard the tramp of horse behind him; whereupon he exclaimed, "The judgment of God is upon me!" and looked out for a hiding-place, but found none. At last he saw a closed door, and pushing against it, it yielded and he found himself in a long corridor, in which he took refuge. Hardly had he done so, when two men laid hold of him, exclaiming, "Praise be to God, who hath delivered thee into our hands, O enemy of Allah! These three nights thou hast bereft us of sleep and given us no peace and made us taste the agonies of death!" "O folk," said my brother, "what ails you?" And they answered, "Thou givest us the change and goest about to dishonour us and to murder the master of the house! Is it not enough that thou hast brought him to beggary, thou and thy comrades? But give us up the knife, wherewith thou threatenest us every night." Then they searched him and found in his girdle the knife he used to cut leather; and he said, "O folk, have the fear of God before your eyes and maltreat me not, for know that my story is a strange one." "What is thy story?" asked they. So he told them what had befallen him, hoping that they would let him go; however, they paid no heed to what he said, but beat him and tore off his clothes, and finding on his sides the marks of beating with rods, said, "O accursed one, these scars bear witness to thy guilt!" Then they carried him to the chief of the police, whilst he said to himself, "I am undone for my sins and none can save me but God the Most High!" The prefect said to him, "O villain, what made thee enter their house with murderous intent?" "O Amir," replied my brother, "I conjure thee by Allah, hear my words and hasten not to condemn me!" But the two men said to the prefect, "Wilt thou listen to a robber, who beggars the folk and has the scars of beating on his back?" When the Amir saw the scars on my brother's sides, he said to him, "They had not done this to thee, save for some great crime." And he sentenced him to receive a hundred lashes. So they flogged him and mounting him on a camel, paraded him about the city, crying out, "This is the reward and the least of the reward of those who break into people's houses!" Then they thrust him forth the city, and he wandered at random, till I heard what had befallen him and going in search of him, questioned him of his case. So he told me all that passed and I carried him back privily to Baghdad, where I made him an allowance for his living.

Story of the Barber's Fifth Brother.

My fifth brother, he of the cropt ears, O Commander of the Faithful, was a poor man, who used to ask alms by night and live by day on what he got thus. Now, our father, who was an old man, far advanced in years, fell sick and died, leaving us seven hundred dirhems. So we took each of us a hundred; but when my brother received his share, he was at a loss to know what to do with it, till he bethought him to buy glass of all sorts and sell it at a profit. So he bought a hundred dirhems' worth of glass and putting it in a great basket, sat down, to sell it, on a raised bench, at the foot of a wall, against which he leant his back. As he sat, with the basket before him: he fell to musing in himself and said, "I have laid out a hundred dirhems on this glass and I will sell it for two hundred, with which I will buy other glass and sell it for four hundred; nor will I cease to buy and sell thus, till I have gotten much wealth. With this I will buy all kinds of merchandise and jewels and perfumes and gain great profit on them, till, God willing, I will make my capital a hundred thousand dirhems. Then I will buy a handsome house, together with slaves and horses and trappings of gold, and eat and drink, nor will I leave a singing-man or woman in the city but I will have them to sing to me. As soon as I have amassed a hundred thousand dirhems,[FN#105] I will send out marriage-brokers to demand for me in marriage the daughters of kings and viziers; and I will seek the hand of the Vizier's daughter, for I hear that she is perfect in beauty and of surpassing grace. I will give her a dowry of a thousand dinars, and if her father consent, well; if not, I will take her by force, in spite of him. When I return home, I will buy ten little eunuchs and clothes for myself such as are worn by kings and sultans and get me a saddle of gold, set thick with jewels of price. Then I will mount and parade the city, with slaves before and behind me, whilst the folk salute me and call down blessings upon me: after which I will repair to the Vizier, the girl's father, with slaves behind and before me, as well as on my either hand. When he sees me, he will rise and seating me in his own place, sit down below me, for that I am his son-in-law. Now I will have with me two eunuchs with purses, in each a thousand dinars, and I will deliver him the thousand dinars of the dowry and make him a present of other thousand, that he may have cause to know my nobility and generosity and greatness of mind and the littleness of the world in my eyes; and for ten words he proffers me, I will answer him two. Then I will return to my house, and if one come to me on the bride's part, I will make him a present of money and clothe him in a robe of honour; but if he bring me a present, I will return it to him and will not accept it, that they may know that I am great of soul. Then I will command them to bring her to me in state and will order my house fittingly in the meantime. When the time of the unveiling is come, I will don my richest clothes and sit down on a couch of brocaded silk, leaning on a cushion and turning neither to the right nor to the left, for the haughtiness of my mind and the gravity of my understanding. My wife shall stand before me like the full moon, in her robes and ornaments, and I, of my pride and my disdain, will not look at her, till all who are present shall say to me, 'O my lord, thy wife and thy handmaid stands before thee: deign to look upon her! for standing is irksome to her.' And they will kiss the earth before me many times, whereupon I will lift my eyes and give one glance at her, then bend down my head again. Then they will carry her to the bride-chamber, and meanwhile I will rise and change my clothes for a richer suit. When they bring in the bride for the second time, I will not look at her till they have implored me several times, when I will glance at her and bow down my head; nor will I leave to do thus, till they have made an end of displaying her, when I will order one of my eunuchs to fetch a purse of five hundred dinars and giving it to the tire-women, command them to lead me to the bride-chamber. When they leave me alone with the bride, I will not look at her or speak to her, but will lie by her with averted face, that she may say I am high of soul. Presently her mother will come to me and kiss my head and hands and say to me, 'O my lord, look on thy handmaid, for she longs for thy favour, and heal her spirit. But I will give her no answer; and when she sees this, she will come and kiss my feet repeatedly and say, 'O my lord, verily my daughter is a beautiful girl, who has never seen man; and if thou show her this aversion, her heart will break; so do thou incline to her and speak to her.' Then she will rise and fetch a cup of wine, and her daughter will take it and come to me; but I will leave her standing before me, whilst I recline upon a cushion of cloth of gold, and will not look at her for the haughtiness of my heart, so that she will think me to be a Sultan of exceeding dignity and will say to me, 'O my lord, for God's sake, do not refuse to take the cup from thy servant's hand, for indeed I am thy handmaid.' But I will not speak to her, and she will press me, saying, 'Needs must thou drink it,' and put it to my lips. Then I will shake my fist in her face and spurn her with my foot thus." So saying, he gave a kick with his foot and knocked over the basket of glass, which fell to the ground, and all that was in it was broken. "All this comes of my pride!" cried he, and fell to buffeting his face and tearing his clothes and weeping. The folk who were going to the Friday prayers saw him, and some of them looked at him and pitied him, whilst others paid no heed to him, and in this way my brother lost both capital and profit. Presently there came up a beautiful lady, on her way to the Friday prayers, riding on a mule with a saddle of gold and attended by a number of servants and filling the air with the scent of musk, as she passed along. When she saw the broken glass and my brother weeping, she was moved to pity for him; so she asked what ailed him and was told that he had a basket full of glass, by the sale of which he thought to make his living, but it was broken, and this was the cause of his distress. So she called one of her attendants and said to him, "Give this poor man what is with thee." And he gave my brother a purse in which he found five hundred dinars, whereupon he was like to die for excess of joy and called down blessings on her. Then he returned to his house, a rich man; and as he sat considering, some one knocked at the door. So he rose and opened and saw an old woman whom he knew not. "O my son," said she, "the time of prayer is at hand, and I have not yet made the ablution; so I beg thee to let me do so in thy house." "I hear and obey," replied he, and bade her come in. So she entered and he brought her an ewer, wherewith to wash, and sat down, beside himself for joy in the dinars When she had made an end of her ablutions, she came up to where he sat and prayed a two-bow prayer, after which she offered up a goodly prayer my brother, who thanked her and putting his hand to the bag of money, gave her two dinars, saying in himself, "This is an alms from me." "Glory to God!" exclaimed she. "Why dost thou look on one, who loves thee, as if she were a beggar? Put up thy money! I have no need of it; or if thou want it not, return it to her who gave it thee, when thy glass was broken." "O my mother," asked he, "how shall I do to come at her?" "O my son," replied she, "she hath an inclination for thee, but she is the wife of a wealthy man of the city; so take all thy money with thee and follow me, that I may guide thee to thy desire: and when thou art in company with her, spare neither fair words nor persuasion, and thou shalt enjoy her beauty and her wealth to thy heart's content." So my brother took all his money and rose and followed the old woman, hardly believing in his good fortune. She led him on till they came to the door of a great house, at which she knocked, and a Greek slave-girl came out and opened to them. Then the old woman took my brother and brought him into a great saloon, spread with magnificent carpets and hung with curtains, where he sat down, with his money before him and his turban on his knee. Presently in came a young lady richly dressed, never saw eyes handsomer than she; whereupon my brother rose to his feet, but she smiled upon him and welcoming him, signed to him to be seated. Then she bade shut the door and taking my brother by the hand, led him to a private chamber, furnished with various kinds of brocaded silk. Here he sat down and she seated herself by his side and toyed with him awhile; after which she rose and saying, "Do not stir till I come back," went away. After awhile, in came a great black slave, with a drawn sword in his hand, who said to him, "Woe to thee! who brought thee hither and what dost thou want?" My brother could make no answer, being tongue-tied for fear; so the black seized him and stripping him of his clothes, beat him with the flat of his sword till he swooned away. Then the pestilent black concluded that he was dead, and my brother heard him say, "Where is the salt-wench?" Whereupon in came a slave-girl, with a great dish of salt, and the black strewed salt upon my brother's wounds; but he did not stir, lest he should know that he was alive and finish him. Then the salt-girl went away and the black cried out, "Where is the cellaress?" With this in came the old woman, and taking my brother by the feet, dragged him to an underground vault, where she threw him down upon a heap of dead bodies. There he remained two whole days, but God made the salt the means of saving his life, for it stayed the flow of blood. Presently, he found himself strong enough to move; so he rose and opening the trap-door, crept out fearfully; and God protected him, so that he went on in the darkness and hid himself in the vestibule till the morning, when he saw the cursed old woman sally forth in quest of other prey. So he went out after her, without her knowledge, and made for his own house, where he dressed his wounds and tended himself till he was whole. Meanwhile he kept a watch upon the old woman and saw her accost one man after another and carry them to the house. However, he said nothing; but as soon as he regained health and strength, he took a piece of stuff and made it into a bag, which he filled with broken glass and tied to his middle. Then he disguised himself in the habit of a foreigner, that none might know him, and hid a sword under his clothes. Then he went out and presently falling in with the old woman, accosted her and said to her, with a foreign accent, "O dame, I am a stranger, but this day arrived here, and know no one. Hast thou a pair of scales wherein I may weigh nine hundred dinars? I will give thee somewhat of the money for thy pains." "I have a son, a moneychanger," replied she, "who has all kinds of scales; so come with me to him, before he goes out, and he will weigh thy gold for thee." And he said, "Lead the way." So she led him to the house and knocked at the door; and the young lady herself came out and opened it; whereupon the old woman smiled in her face, saying, "I bring thee fat meat to-day." Then the damsel took him by the hand and carrying him to the same chamber as before, sat with him awhile, then rose and went out, bidding him stir not till she came back. Ere long in came the villainous black, with his sword drawn, and said to my brother, "Rise, O accursed one!" So he rose and as the slave went on before him, he drew the sword from under his clothes and smiting him with it, made his head fly from his body; after which he dragged the corpse by the feet to the vault and cried out, "Where is the salt-wench?" Up came the girl with the dish of salt, and seeing my brother sword in hand, turned to fly; but he followed her and smote her and struck off her head. Then he called out, "Where is the cellaress?" And in came the old woman, to whom said he, "Dost thou know me, O pestilent old woman?" "No, my lord," replied she; and he said, "I am he of the five hundred dinars, to whose house thou camest to make the ablution and pray, and whom thou didst after lure hither." "Fear God and spare me!" exclaimed she. But he paid no heed to her and striking her with the sword, cut her in four. Then he went in search of the young lady; and when she saw him, her reason fled and she called out for mercy. So he spared her and said to her, "How camest thou to consort with this black?" Quoth she, "I was slave to a certain merchant and the old woman used to visit me, till I became familiar with her. One day she said to me, 'We have to-day a wedding at our house, the like of which was never beheld, and I wish thee to see it.' 'I hear and obey,' answered I, and rising, donned my handsomest clothes and jewellery and took with me a purse containing a hundred dinars. Then she brought me hither, and hardly had I entered the house, when the black seized on me, and I have remained in this case these three years, through the perfidy of the accursed old woman." Then said my brother, "Is there aught of his in the house?" "He had great store of wealth," replied she: "and if thou canst carry it away, do so, and may God prosper it to thee!" Then she opened to him several chests full of purses, at which he was confounded, and said to him, "Go now and leave me here and fetch men to carry off the money." So he went out and hired ten men, but, when he returned, he found the door open and the damsel gone, and nothing left but a little of the money and the household stuff. By this, he knew that she had cheated him; so he opened the closets and took what was in them, together with the rest of the money, leaving nothing in the house, and passed the night in all content. When he arose in the morning, he found at the door a score of troopers, who seized him, saying, "The chief of the police seeks for thee." My brother implored them to let him return to his house, but they would grant him no delay, though he offered them a large sum of money, and binding him fast with cords, carried him off. On the way, there met them a friend of my brother, who clung to his skirts and implored him to stop and help to deliver him from their hands. So he stopped and enquired what was the matter; to which they replied, "The chief of the police has ordered us to bring this man before him, and we are doing so." The man interceded with them and offered them five hundred dinars to let my brother go, saying, "Tell the magistrate that ye could not find him." But they refused and dragged him before the prefect, who said to him, "Whence hadst thou these stuffs and money?" Quoth my brother, "Grant me indemnity." So the magistrate gave him the handkerchief of pardon, and he told him all that had befallen him, from first to last, including the flight of the damsel, adding, "Take what thou wilt, so thou leave me enough to live on." But the prefect took the whole of the stuff and money for himself and fearing lest the affair should reach the Sultan's ears, said to my brother, "Depart from this city, or I will hang thee." "I hear and obey," replied my brother, and set out for another town. On the way thieves fell on him and stripped him and beat him and cut off his ears. But I heard of his misfortunes and went out after him, taking him clothes, and brought him back privily to the city, where I made him an allowance for meat and drink.

Story of the Barber's Sixth Brother

My sixth brother, he of the cropt lips, O Commander of the Faithful, was once rich, but after became poor. One day he went out to seek somewhat to keep life in him and came presently to a handsome house, with a wide and lofty portico and servants and others at the door, ordering and forbidding. My brother enquired of one of those standing there and he told him that the house belonged to one of the Barmecide family. So he accosted the door-keepers and begged an alms of them. "Enter," said they, "and thou shalt get what thou seekest of our master." Accordingly, he entered and passing through the vestibule, found himself in a mansion of the utmost beauty and elegance, paved with marble and hung with curtains and having in the midst a garden whose like he had never seen. He stood awhile perplexed, knowing not whither to direct his steps: then seeing the door of a sitting-chamber, he entered and saw at the upper end a man of comely presence and goodly beard. When the latter saw my brother, he rose and welcomed him and enquired how he did; to which he replied that he was in need of charity. Whereupon the other showed great concern and putting his hand to his clothes, rent them, exclaiming, "Art thou hungry in a city of which I am an inhabitant? I cannot endure this!" and promised him all manner of good. Then said he, "Thou must eat with me." "O my lord," replied my brother, "I can wait no longer; for I am sore an hungred." So, the Barmecide cried out, "Ho, boy! bring the ewer and the basin!" and said to my brother, "O my guest, come forward and wash thy hands." My brother rose to do so, but saw neither ewer nor basin. However, the host made as if he were washing his hands and cried out, "Bring the table." But my brother saw nothing. Then said the Barmecide, "Honour me by eating of this food and be not ashamed." And he made as if he ate, saying the while, "Thou eatest but little: do not stint thyself, for I know thou art famished." So my brother began to make as if he ate, whilst the other said to him, "Eat and note the excellence of this bread and its whiteness." My brother could see nothing and said to himself, "This man loves to jest with the folk." So he replied, "O my lord, never in my life have I seen whiter or more delicious bread." And the host said, "I gave five hundred dinars for the slave-girl who bakes it for me." Then he called out, "Ho, boy! bring the frumenty first and do not spare butter on it." And turning to my brother, "O my guest," said he, "sawst thou ever aught better than this frumenty? Eat, I conjure thee, and be not ashamed!" Then he cried out again, "Ho, boy! bring in the pasty with the fatted grouse in it." And he said to my brother, "Eat, O my guest, for thou art hungry and needest it." So my brother began to move his jaws and make as if he chewed; whilst the other ceased not to call for dish after dish and press my brother to eat, though not a thing appeared. Presently, he cried out, "Ho, boy I bring us the chickens stuffed with pistachio-kernels!" And said to my brother, "These chickens have been fattened on pistachio-nuts; eat, for thou hast never tasted the like of them." "O my lord," replied my brother, "they are indeed excellent." Then the host feigned to put his hand to my brother's mouth, as if to feed him, and ceased not to name various dishes and expatiate upon their excellence. Meanwhile my brother was starving, and hunger was so sore on him that his soul lusted for a cake of barley bread. Quoth the Barmecide, "Didst thou ever taste aught more delicious than the seasoning of these dishes?" "Never, O my lord," replied my brother. "Eat heartily and be not ashamed," repeated the host. "O my lord," said my brother, "I have had enough of meat." So the Barmecide cried out, "Take away and bring the sweetmeats." Then he said, "Eat of this almond conserve, for it is excellent, and of these fritters. My life on thee, take this one before the syrup runs out of it!" "May I never be bereaved of thee, O my lord!" replied my brother, and asked him of the abundance of musk in the fritters. "It is my custom," said the other, "to have three pennyweights of musk and half that quantity of ambergris put into each fritter." All this time my brother was wagging his jaws and moving his head and mouth, till the host said, "Enough of this! Bring us the dessert." Then said he to him, "Eat of these almonds and walnuts and raisins and of this and that," naming different kinds of dried fruits, "and be not ashamed." "O my lord," answered my brother, "indeed I am full: I can eat no more." "O my guest," repeated the other, "if thou have a mind to eat more, for God's sake do not remain hungry!" "O my lord," replied my brother, "how should one who has eaten of all these dishes be hungry?" Then he considered and said to himself "I will do that which shall make him repent of having acted thus." Presently the host called out, "Bring me the wine," and making as if it had come, feigned to give my brother to drink, saying, "Take this cup, and if it please thee, let me know." "O my lord," replied he, "it has a pleasant smell, but I am used to drink old wine twenty years of age." "Then knock at this door,"[FN#106] said his host; "for thou canst not drink of aught better." "O my lord, this is of thy bounty!" replied my brother and made as if he drank. "Health and pleasure to thee!" exclaimed the host, and feigned, in like wise, to fill a cup and drink it off and hand a second cup to my brother, who pretended to drink and made as if he were drunken. Then he took the Barmecide unawares and raising his arm, till the whiteness of his arm-pit appeared, dealt him such a buffet on the neck that the place rang to it. Then he gave him a second cuff and the host exclaimed, "What is this, O vile fellow?" "O my lord," replied my brother "thou hast graciously admitted thy slave into thine abode and fed him with thy victual and plied him with old wine, till he became drunk and dealt unmannerly by thee; but thou art too noble not to bear with his ignorance and pardon his offence." When the Barmecide heard my brother's words, he laughed heartily and exclaimed, "Long have I used to make mock of men and play the fool with those who are apt at jesting and horse-play; but never have I come across any, who had patience and wit to enter into all my humours, but thee; so I pardon thee, and now thou shalt be my boon companion, in very deed, and never leave me." Then he bade his servants lay the table in good earnest, and they set on all the dishes of which he had spoken, and he and my brother ate till they were satisfied, after which they removed to the drinking-chamber, where they found damsels like moons, who sang all manner of songs and played on all kinds of musical instruments. There they remained, drinking, till drunkenness overcame them, and the host used my brother as a familiar friend, so that he became as it were his brother, and bestowed on him a dress of honour and loved him with an exceeding love. Next morning, they fell again to feasting and carousing, and ceased not to lead this life for twenty years, at the end of which time the Barmecide died and the Sultan laid hands on all his property and squeezed my brother, till he stripped him of all he had. So he left the city and fled forth at random, but the Arabs fell on him midway and taking him prisoner, carried him to their camp, where the Bedouin, his captor, tortured him, saying, "Ransom thyself with money, or I will kill thee." My brother fell a-weeping and replied, "By Allah, I have nought! I am thy prisoner; do with me as thou wilt." Thereupon the Bedouin took out a knife and cut off my brother's lips, still urging his demand. Now this Bedouin had a handsome wife, who used to make advances to my brother, in her husband's absence, and offer him her favours, but he held off from her. One day, she began to tempt him as usual, and he toyed with her and took her on his knee, when lo, in came the Bedouin, and seeing this, cried out, "Woe to thee, thou villain! Wouldst thou debauch my wife?" Then he took out a knife and cut off my brother's yard, after which he set him on a camel and carried him to a mountain, where he threw him down and left him. Here he was found by some travellers, who recognized him and gave him meat and drink and acquainted me with his plight, whereupon I went forth to him and brought him back to Baghdad, where I provided him with enough to live on. This then, O Commander of the Faithful, is the history of my brothers, and I was unwilling to go away without relating it to thee, that I might disabuse thee of thine error in confounding me with them. And now thou knowest that I have six brothers and support them all.' When the Khalif heard my words, he laughed and said, 'Thou sayst sooth, O Silent One! Thou art neither a man of many words nor an impertinent meddler; but now go out from this city and settle in another.' And he banished me from the city; so I left Baghdad and travelled in foreign countries, till I heard of his death and the coming of another to the Khalifate. Then I returned to Baghdad, where I found my brothers dead and fell in with this young man, to whom I rendered the best of services, for without me he had been killed. Indeed he accuses me of what is foreign to my nature and what he relates of my impertinence is false; for verily I left Baghdad on his account and wandered in many countries, till I came to this city and happened on him with you; and was not this, O good people, of the generosity of my nature?"

When we heard the barber's story (continued the tailor) and saw the abundance of his speech and the way in which he had oppressed the young man, we laid hands on him and shut him up, after which we sat down in peace and ate and drank till the time of the call to afternoon-prayer, when I left the company and returned home. My wife was sulky and said to me, "Thou hast taken thy pleasure all day, whilst I have been moping at home. So now, except thou carry me abroad and amuse me for the rest of the day, it will be the cause of my separation from thee." So I took her out and we amused ourselves till nightfall, when we returned home and met the hunchback, brimming over with drunkenness and repeating the following verses:

The glass is pellucid, and so is the wine: So bring them together
and see them combine:
Tis a puzzle; one moment, all wine and no cup; At another, in
turn, 'tis all cup and no wine.

So I invited him to pass the evening with us and went out to buy fried fish, after which we sat down to eat. Presently my wife took a piece of bread and fish and crammed them into his mouth, and he choked and died. Then I took him up and made shift to throw him into the house of the Jewish physician. He in his turn let him down into the house of the controller, who threw him in the way of the Christian broker. This, then, is my story. Is it not more wonderful than that of the hunchback?'

When the King heard the tailor's story, he shook his head for delight and showed astonishment, saying, 'This that passed between the young man and the meddlesome barber is indeed more pleasant and more wonderful than the story of that knave of a hunchback.' Then he bade the tailor take one of the chamberlains and fetch the barber out of his duresse, saying, 'Bring him to me, that I may hear his talk, and it shall be the means of the release of all of you. Then we will bury the hunchback, for he is dead since yesterday, and set up a tomb over him.' So the chamberlain and the tailor went away and presently returned with the barber. The King looked at him and behold, he was a very old man, more than ninety years of age, of a swarthy complexion and white beard and eyebrows, flap-eared, long-nosed and simple and conceited of aspect. The King laughed at his appearance and said to him, 'O silent man, I desire thee to tell me somewhat of thy history.' 'O King of the age,' replied the barber, 'why are all these men and this dead hunchback before thee?' Said the King, 'Why dost thou ask?' 'I ask this,' rejoined the barber, 'that your Majesty may know that I am no impertinent meddler and that I am guiltless of that they lay to my charge of overmuch talk; for I am called the Silent, and indeed I am the man of my name, as says the poet:

Thine eyes shall seldom see a man that doth a nickname bear, But, if thou search, thou'lt find the name his nature doth declare.

So the King said, 'Explain the hunchback's case to him and repeat to him the stories told by the physician, the controller, the broker and the tailor.' They did as he commanded, and the barber shook his head and exclaimed, 'By Allah, this is indeed a wonder of wonders!' Then said he, 'Uncover the hunchback's body, that I may see it.' They did so, and he sat down and taking the hunchback's head in his lap, looked at his face and laughed till he fell backward. Then said he, 'To every death there is a cause; but the story of this hunchback deserves to be recorded in letters of gold!' The bystanders were astounded at his words and the King wondered and said to him, 'O silent man, explain thy words to us.' 'O King of the age,' replied the barber, 'by thy munificence, there is yet life in this hunchback.' Then he pulled out from his girdle a barber's budget, whence he took a pot of ointment and anointed therewith the neck of the hunchback and its veins. Then he took out a pair of tweezers and thrusting them down the hunchback's throat, drew out the piece of fish and its bone, soaked in blood. Thereupon the hunchback sneezed and sat up, and passing his hand over his face, exclaimed, 'I testify that there is no god but God and that Mohammed is His Apostle!' At this all present wondered and the King laughed, till he fainted, and so did the others. Then said the King, 'By Allah, this is the most wonderful thing I ever saw! O Muslims, O soldiers all, did you ever in your lives see a man die and come to life again? For verily, had not God vouchsafed him this barber to be the cause of his preservation, he had been dead!' 'By Allah,' said they, 'this is a wonder of wonders!' Then the King caused the whole history to be recorded and laid up in the royal treasury; after which he bestowed splendid dresses of honour on the Jew, the broker and the controller and sent them away. Then he gave the tailor a costly dress of honour and appointed him his own tailor, with a suitable stipend, and made peace between him and the hunchback, on whom he also bestowed a rich and fair dress of honour and made him his boon-companion, appointing him due allowances. As for the barber, he made him a like present and appointed him state barber and one of his boon-companions, assigning him regular allowances and a fixed salary. And they all ceased not from the enjoyment of all the delights and comforts of life, till there overtook them the Destroyer of delights and the Sunderer of companies.

NOUREDDIN ALI AND THE DAMSEL ENIS EL JELIS.

There was once a King in Bassora who cherished the poor and needy and loved his subjects and bestowed of his wealth on those who believed in Mohammed (whom God bless and preserve!) and he was even as the poet hath described him:

A King who, when the hostile hosts assault him in the field,
     Smites them and hews them, limb from limb, with trenchant
     sword and spear
Full many a character of red he writes upon the breasts What time
     the mailed horsemen break before his wild career.

His name was King Mohammed ben Suleiman ez Zeini, and he had two Viziers, one called Muin ben Sawa and the other Fezl ben Khacan. Fezl was the most generous man of his time; noble and upright of life, all hearts concurred in loving him, and the wise complied with his counsel, whilst all the people wished him long life; for that he was a compend of good qualities, encouraging good and preventing evil and mischief. The Vizier Muin, on the contrary, was a hater of mankind and loved not good, being indeed altogether evil; even as says of him the poet:

Look thou consort with the generous, sons of the gen'rous; for
     lo! The generous, sons of the gen'rous, beget the gen'rous,
     I trow.
And let the mean-minded men, sons of the mean-minded, go, For the
     mean-minded, sons of the mean, beget none other than so.

And as much as the people loved Fezl, so much did they hate Muin. It befell one day, that the King, being seated on his throne, with his officers of state about him, called his Vizier Fezl and said to him, 'I wish to have a slave-girl of unsurpassed beauty, perfect in grace and symmetry and endowed with all praiseworthy qualities.' Said the courtiers, 'Such a girl is not to be had for less than ten thousand dinars!' whereupon the King cried out to his treasurer and bade him carry ten thousand dinars to Fezl's house. The treasurer did so, and the Vizier went away, after the King had charged him to go to the market every day and employ brokers and had given orders that no girl worth more than a thousand dinars should be sold, without being first shown to the Vizier. Accordingly, the brokers brought him all the girls that came into their hands, but none pleased him, till one day a broker came to his house and found him mounting his horse, to go to the palace; so he caught hold of his stirrup and repeated the following verses:

O thou whose bounties have restored the uses of the state, O
     Vizier helped of heaven, whose acts are ever fortunate!
Thou hast revived the virtues all were dead among the folk. May
     God's acceptance evermore on thine endeavours wait!

Then said he, 'O my lord, she for whom the august mandate was issued is here.' 'Bring her to me,' replied the Vizier. So he went away and returned in a little with a damsel of elegant shape, swelling-breasted, with melting black eyes and smooth cheeks, slender-waisted and heavy-hipped, clad in the richest of clothes. The dew of her lips was sweeter than syrup, her shape more symmetrical than the bending branch and her speech softer than the morning zephyr, even as says one of those who have described her:

A wonder of beauty! Her face full moon of the palace sky; Of a
     tribe of gazelles and wild cows the dearest and most high!
The Lord of the empyrean hath given her pride and state,
     Elegance, charm and a shape that with the branch may vie;
She hath in the heaven of her face a cluster of seven stars, That
     keep the ward of her cheek to guard it from every spy.
So if one think to steal a look, the imps of her glance Consume
     him straight with a star, that shoots from her gleaming eye.

When the Vizier saw her she pleased him exceedingly, so he turned to the broker and said to him, 'What is the price of this damsel?' 'Her price is ten thousand dinars,' replied he, 'and her owner swears that this sum will not cover the cost of the chickens she hath eaten, the wine she hath drunk and the dresses of honour bestowed on her teachers; for she hath learnt penmanship and grammar and lexicology and the exposition of the Koran and the rudiments of law and theology, medicine and the calendar, as well as the art of playing on instruments of music.' Then said the Vizier, 'Bring me her master.' So the broker brought him at once, and behold, he was a foreigner, who had lived so long that time had worn him to bones and skin. Quoth the Vizier to him, 'Art thou content to sell this damsel to the Sultan for ten thousand dinars?' 'By Allah,' replied the merchant, 'if I made him a present of her, it were but my duty!' So the Vizier sent for the money and gave it to the slave-dealer, who said, 'By the leave of our lord the Vizier, I have something to say.' 'Speak,' said the Vizier: and the slave-dealer said, 'If thou wilt be ruled by me, thou wilt not carry the damsel to the King to-day, for she is newly off a journey; the change of air has affected her and the journey has fretted her. But let her abide in thy palace ten days, that she may recover her good looks. Then send her to the bath and dress her in the richest of clothes and go up with her to the Sultan, and this will be more to thy profit.' The Vizier considered the man's advice and approved it; so he took her to his palace, where he appointed her a separate lodging and a daily allowance of meat and drink and so forth, and she abode thus awhile.

Now the Vizier Fezl had a son like the rising full moon, with shining visage, red cheeks covered with a tender down and a mole like a grain of ambergris; as says of him the poet and therein errs not:

A moon,[FN#107] whose glances slay the folk, on whom he turns his
     eye; A branch, whose graces break all hearts, as he goes
     stately by
Slack as the night his browlocks are, his face the hue of gold;
     Fair is his person, and his shape the spear-shaft doth
     outvie.
Ah me, how hard his heart, how soft and slender is his waist! Why
     is the softness not transferred from this to that, ah why?
Were but the softness of his sides made over to his heart, He'd
     ne'er to lovers be unjust nor leave them thus to sigh.
O thou that blam'st my love of thee, excuse me rather thou, Nor
     chide me, if my body pine for languor like to die.
The fault, indeed, lies not with me, but with my heart and eye;
     So chide me not, but let me be in this my misery.

Now he knew not the affair of the damsel, and his father had lessoned her, saying, 'Know, O my daughter, that I have bought thee for the bed of the King Mohammed ben Suleiman ez Zeini, and I have a son who leaves no girl in the quarter but he has to do with her; so be on thy guard against him and beware of letting him see thy face or hear thy voice.' 'I hear and obey,' replied she; and the Vizier left her and went away. Some days after this it chanced, as Fate would have it, that the damsel went to the bath in the house, where some of the serving-women washed her, after which she arrayed herself in rich apparel, and her beauty and grace redoubled. Then she went in to the Vizier's wife and kissed her hand; and the lady said to her, 'May it profit thee, O Enis el Jelis! How didst thou find the bath?' 'O my lady,' answered she, 'I lacked but thy presence there.' Thereupon said the mistress to her waiting-women, 'Come with me to the bath, for it is some days since I went thither.' 'We hear and obey,' answered they; and rose and accompanied her to the bath, after Enis el Jelis had retired to her own chamber and the lady had set two little slave-girls to keep the door, charging them to let none go in to the damsel. Presently, as Enis el Jelis sat resting after the bath, in came the Vizier's son, whose name was Noureddin Ali, and asked after his mother and her women, to which the two little slaves replied that they had gone to the bath. The damsel heard Noureddin's voice and said to herself, 'I wonder what like is this youth, of whom his father says that there is not a girl in the quarter but he has had to do with her. By Allah, I long to see him!' So she rose, fresh as she was from the bath, and going to the door, looked at Noureddin and saw that he was like the moon at its full. The sight cost her a thousand sighs, and Noureddin, chancing to look that way, caught a glance of her that caused him also a thousand regrets, and each fell into the snare of the other's love. Then he went up to the two little slaves and cried out at them, whereupon they fled before him and stood afar off to see what he would do. And behold, he went up to the door of the damsel's chamber and entering, said to her, 'Art thou she whom my father bought for me?' 'Yes,' answered she: whereupon Noureddin, who was heated with wine, went up to her and embraced her, whilst she wreathed her arms about his neck and met him with kisses and sighs and amorous gestures. Then he sucked her tongue and she his, and he did away her maidenhead. When the two little slaves saw their young master go in to the damsel, they cried out and shrieked. So, as soon as he had done his desire, he rose and fled, fearing the issue of his conduct. When the Vizier's wife heard the slaves' cries, she sprang up and came out of the bath, with the sweat dripping from her, saying, 'What is this clamour in the house?' Then she came up to the two little slaves, and said to them, 'Out on you! what is the matter?' 'Our lord Noureddin came in and beat us,' answered they: 'so we fled and he went in to the damsel and embraced her, and we know not what he did after this: but when we cried out to thee, he fled.' Thereupon, the mistress went in to Enis el Jelis and enquired what had happened. 'O my lady,' answered she, 'as I was sitting here, there came in a handsome young man, who said to me, "Art thou she whom my father bought for me?" I answered, "Yes;" (for by Allah, O my lady, I believed that he spoke the truth!) and with this he came up to me and embraced me.' 'Did he nought else with thee?' asked the lady. 'Yes,' replied Enis el Jelis: 'he took of me three kisses.' 'He did not leave thee without deflowering thee!' cried the Vizier's wife, and fell to weeping and buffeting her face, she and her women, fearing that Noureddin's father would kill him. Whilst they were thus, in came the Vizier and asked what was the matter, and his wife said to him, 'Swear that thou wilt hearken to what I say.' 'It is well,' replied he. So she told him what his son had done, and he was greatly afflicted and tore his clothes and buffeted his face and plucked out his beard. 'Do not kill thyself,' said his wife: 'I will give thee the ten thousand dinars, her price, of my own money.' But he raised his head and said to her, 'Out on thee! I have no need of her price, but I fear to lose both life and goods.' 'How so?' asked his wife, and he said, 'Dost thou not know that yonder is our enemy Muin ben Sawa, who, when he hears of this affair, will go up to the Sultan and say to him, "Thy Vizier, who thou wilt have it loves thee, had of thee ten thousand dinars and bought therewith a slave-girl, whose like was never seen; but when he saw her, she pleased him and he said to his son, 'Take her: thou art worthier of her than the Sultan.' So he took her and did away her maidenhead, and she is now with him." The King will say, "Thou liest!" To which Muin will reply, "With thy leave, I will fall on him at unawares and bring her to thee." The King will order him to do this, and he will come down upon the house and take the damsel and bring her before the King, who will question her and she will not be able to deny what has passed. Then Muin will say, "O my lord, thou knowest that I give thee true counsel, but I am not in favour with thee." Thereupon the Sultan will make an example of me, and I shall be a gazing-stock to all the people and my life will be lost.' Quoth his wife, 'Tell none of this thing, which has happened privily, but commit thy case to God and trust in Him to deliver thee from this strait.' With this the Vizier's heart was set at rest, and his wrath and chagrin subsided.

Meanwhile, Noureddin, fearing the issue of the affair, spent the whole day in the gardens and came back by night to his mother's apartment, where he slept and rising before day, returned to the gardens. He lived thus for a whole month, not showing his face to his father, till at last his mother said to the Vizier, 'O my lord, shall we lose our own son as well as the damsel? If things continue thus for long, the lad will flee forth from us.' 'What is to be done?' said he: and she answered, 'Do thou watch this night, and when he comes, seize on him and frighten him. I will rescue him from thee and do thou then make peace with him and give him the girl, for she loves him and he her; and I will pay thee her price.' So the Vizier watched that night and when his son came, he seized him and throwing him down, knelt on his breast and made as if he would cut his throat; but his mother came to his succour and said to her husband, 'What wilt thou do with him?' Quoth he, 'I mean to kill him.' And Noureddin said to his father 'Am I of so little account with thee?' Whereupon the Vizier's eyes filled with tears and he replied, 'O my son, is the loss of my goods and my life of so little account in thine eyes?' Quoth Noureddin, 'Hear, O my father, what the poet says:

Pardon me: true, I have sinned: yet the sagacious man Ceases
     never to pardon freely the erring wight.
Surely, therefore, thy foe may hope for pardon from thee, Since
     he is in the abyss and thou on honour's height!'

Then the Vizier rose from off his breast, saying, 'O my son, I forgive thee!' for his heart was softened. Noureddin rose and kissed the hand of his father, who said to him, 'If I knew that thou wouldst deal fairly by Enis el Jelis, I would give her to thee.' 'O my father,' replied Noureddin, 'how should I not deal fairly by her?' Quoth the Vizier, 'O my son, I charge thee not to take another wife nor concubine to share with her nor sell her.' 'O my father,' answered Noureddin, 'I swear to thee that I will do none of these things.' Then he went in to the damsel and abode with her a whole year, whilst God caused the King to forget the affair. The matter, indeed, came to Muin's ears, but he dared not speak of it, by reason of the favour in which the Vizier Fezl stood with the Sultan. At the end of the year, the Vizier Fezl went one day to the bath and coming out, whilst still in a sweat, the air smote him and he caught cold and took to his bed. His malady gained upon him and sleeplessness was long upon him; so he called his son Noureddin and said to him, 'O my son, know that fortune is lotted out and the term of life fixed, and needs must every soul drain the cup of death.' And he repeated the following verses:

I'm dead: yet glory be to Him that dieth not; For that I needs
     must die, indeed, full well I wot,
He is no king, who dies with kingship in his hand, For sovranty
     belongs to Him that dieth not.

Then he continued, 'O my son, I have no charge to lay on thee, except that thou fear God and look to the issue of thine actions and cherish the damsel Enis el Jelis.' 'O my father,' said Noureddin, 'who is like unto thee? Indeed thou art renowned for the practice of virtue and the praying of the preachers for thee in the pulpits.' Quoth Fezl, 'O my son, I hope for acceptance from God the Most High.' Then he pronounced the two professions of the faith and was numbered among the blessed. The palace was filled with crying and lamentation, and the news of his death reached the King and the people of the city, and even the children in the schools wept for Fezi ben Khacan. Then his son Noureddin arose and took order for his funeral, and the Amirs and Viziers and grandees were present, amongst them the Vizier Muin ben Sawa; and as the funeral train came forth of the palace, one of the mourners recited the following verses:

The fifth day I departed and left my friends alone: They laid me
     out and washed me upon a slab of stone;
Then stripped me of the raiment that on my body was, That they
     might put upon me clothes other than my own
On four men's necks they bore me unto the place of prayer And
     prayed a prayer above me by no prostration known.
Then in a vaulted dwelling they laid me. Though the years Shall
     waste, its door will never be open to them thrown.

When they had laid him in the earth, Noureddin returned with the folk; and he lamented with groans and tears and the tongue of the case repeated the following verses:

On the fifth day they departed in the eventide, and I Took of
     them the last leave-taking, when they went and left me here.
When they turned away and left me, lo! the soul with them did go.
     And I said, "Return." It answered, "Where, alas! should I
     recur;
Shall I come back to a body whence the life and blood are flown?
     Nothing now but bones are left it, rattling in the
     sepulchre.
Lo! my eyes, excess of weeping hath put out their sight, I trow,
     And a deafness eke is fallen on my ears: I cannot hear."

He abode a long while in great grief for his father, till one day, as he sat in his house, there came a knocking at the door; so he rose and opening the door, found there a man who had been one of his father's friends and boon-companions. He entered and kissing Noureddin's hand, said to him, 'O my lord, he who has left the like of thee is not dead; and to this pass (death) came even the lord of the first and the last.[FN#108] O my lord, take comfort and leave mourning!' Thereupon Noureddin rose and going to the guest-chamber, transported thither all that he needed. Then his friends gathered together to him and he took his slave-girl again and collecting round him ten of the sons of the merchants, began to eat meat and drink wine, giving entertainment after entertainment and dispensing gifts and favours with a lavish hand, till one day his steward came to him and said, 'O my lord Noureddin, hast thou not heard the saying, "He who spends and does not reckon, becomes poor without knowing it?"' And he repeated the following verses:

I'll hold my money fast, knowing, as well as I know, That 'tis my
     sword and shield against my every foe.
If I should lavish it on those who love me not, My luck among the
     folk would change to grief and woe.
So I will eat and drink my wealth for my own good Nor upon any
     man a single doit bestow.
I will preserve with care my money from all those By nature base
     and true to none. 'Tis better so
Than that I e'er should say unto the mean of soul, "Lend me so
     much I'll pay to-morrow five-fold mo,"
And see my friend avert his face and turn away, Leaving my soul
     cast down, as 'twere a dog's, I trow!
O what a sorry lot is his, who hath no pelf, E'en though his
     virtues bright like to the sun should show!

'O my lord,' continued the steward, 'this lavish expense and prodigal giving waste away wealth.' When Noureddin heard his steward's words, he looked at him and said, 'I will not hearken to one word of all thou hast said, for I have heard the following saying of the poet:

If I be blessed with wealth and be not liberal with it, May my
     hand wither and my foot eke paralysed remain!
Show me the niggard who hath won glory by avarice! Show me the
     liberal man his own munificence hath slain!

And he said, 'Know, O steward, it is my desire that so long as there remains in thy hands enough for my morning meal, thou trouble me not with taking care for my evening meal.' Therewith the steward went away and Noureddin continued his extravagant way of living; and if any of his boon-companions chanced to say to him, 'This thing is handsome,' he would answer, 'It is thine as a gift;' or if another said, 'O my lord, such and such a house is handsome,' he would say, 'Take it: it is thine.' In this manner he continued to live for a whole year, giving his friends a banquet in the morning and another in the evening, till one day as they were sitting together, the damsel Enis el Jelis repeated the following verses:

Thou madest fair thy thought of Fate, when that the days were
     fair, And fearedst not the unknown ills that they to thee
     might bring:
The nights were fair and calm to thee; thou wert deceived by
     them, For in the peace of night is born full many a
     troublous thing.

Just as she had finished, there came a knocking at the door; so Noureddin rose to open it, and one of his companions followed him without his knowledge. At the door he found his steward and said to him, 'What is the matter?' 'Omylord,' replied he, 'what I feared for thee has come to pass!' 'How so?' asked Noureddin; and the steward said, 'Know that there remains not a dirhem's worth, less nor more, in my hands. Here are registers containing an account of the original state of thy property and the way in which thou hast spent it.' At this, Noureddin bowed his head and exclaimed, 'There is no power and no virtue but in God!' When the man who had followed him secretly to spy on him heard what the steward said, he returned to his companions and said to them, 'Look what ye do; for Noureddin Ali is bankrupt.' When Noureddin returned, they read trouble in his face; so one of them rose and said to him, 'O my lord, maybe thou wilt give me leave to retire?' 'Why wilt thou go away to-day?' said he. 'My wife is brought to bed,' replied the other; 'and I cannot be absent from her; I wish to return and see how she does.' So Noureddin gave him leave, whereupon another rose and said, 'O my lord, I wish to go to my brother, for he circumcises his son to-day.' And each made some excuse to retire, till they were all gone and Noureddin remained alone. Then he called his slave-girl and said to her, 'O Enis el Jelis, hast thou seen what has befallen me?' And he related to her what the steward had told him. 'O my lord,' replied she, 'some nights ago I had it in my mind to speak with thee of this matter; but I heard thee reciting the following verses:

If fortune be lavish to thee, look thou be lavish with it Unto
     all classes of men, ere it escapes from thy hand!
Munificence will not undo it, whilst it is constant to thee, Nor,
     when it turneth away, will avarice force it to stand.

When I heard thee speak thus, I held my peace and cared not to say aught to thee.' 'O Enis el Jelis,' said Noureddin, 'thou knowest that I have not expended my substance but on my friends, who have beggared me, and I think they will not leave me without help.' 'By Allah,' replied she, 'they will not profit thee in aught.' Said he, 'I will rise at once and go to them and knock at their doors: maybe I shall get of them somewhat with which I may trade and leave pleasure and merry-making.' So he rose and repaired to a certain street, where all his ten comrades lived. He went up to the first door and knocked, whereupon a maid came out and said, 'Who art thou?' 'Tell thy master,' replied he, 'that Noureddin Ali stands at the door and says to him, "Thy slave kisses thy hands and awaits thy bounty."' The girl went in and told her master, who cried out at her, saying, 'Go back and tell him that I am not at home.' So she returned and said to Noureddin, 'O my lord, my master is from home.' With this, he went away, saying to himself, 'Though this fellow be a whoreson knave and deny himself, another may not be so.' Then he came to the second door and sent in a like message to the master of the house, who denied himself as the first had done, whereupon Noureddin repeated the following verse:

They're gone who, if before their door thou didst arrest thy feet, Would on thy poverty bestow both flesh and roasted meat.

And said 'By Allah, I must try them all: there may be one amongst them who will stand me in the stead of the rest.' So he went round to all the ten, but not one of them opened his door to him or showed himself to him or broke a cake of bread in his face; whereupon he repeated the following verses:

A man in time of affluence is like unto a tree, Round which the
     folk collect, as long as fruit thereon they see,
Till, when its burden it hath cast, they turn from it away, Leave
     it to suffer heat and dust and all inclemency.
Out on the people of this age! perdition to them all! Since not a
     single one of ten is faithful found to be.

Then he returned to his slave-girl, and indeed his concern was doubled, and she said to him, 'O my lord, did I not tell thee that they would not profit thee aught?' 'By Allah,' replied he, 'not one of them would show me his face or take any notice of me!' 'O my lord! said she, 'sell some of the furniture and household stuff, little by little, and live on the proceed, against God the Most High provide.' So he sold all that was in the house, till there was nothing left, when he turned to her and said, 'What is to be done now?' 'O my lord,' replied she, 'it is my advice that thou rise and take me down to the market and sell me. Thou knowest that thy father bought me for ten thousand dinars; perhaps God may help thee to near that price, and if it be His will that we be reunited, we shall meet again.' 'O Enis el Jelis,' replied Noureddin, 'by Allah, I cannot endure to be parted from thee for a single hour!' 'By Allah, O my lord,' rejoined she, 'nor is it easy to me; but necessity compels, as says the poet:

Necessity in life oft drives one into ways That to the courteous mind are foreign and abhorred. We do not trust our weight unto a rope, unless It be to do some thing adapted to the cord.'

With this, he rose to his feet and took her, whilst the tears streamed down his cheeks like rain and he recited with the tongue of the case what follows:

Stay and vouchsafe me one more look before our parting hour, To
     soothe the anguish of a heart well-nigh for reverence slain!
Yet, if it irk thee anywise to grant my last request, Far rather
     let me die of love than cause thee aught of pain!

Then he went down to the market and delivered the damsel to a broker, to whom he said, 'O Hajj[FN#109] Hassan, I would have thee note the value of her thou hast to offer for sale!' 'O my lord Noureddin,' replied the broker, 'I have not forgotten my business.[FN#110] Is not this Enis el Jelis, whom thy father bought of me for ten thousand dinars?' 'Yes,' said Noureddin. Then the broker went round to the merchants, but found they were not all assembled; so he waited till the rest had arrived and the market was full of all kinds of female slaves, Turks and Franks and Circassians and Abyssinians and Nubians and Egyptians and Tartars and Greeks and Georgians and others; when he came forward and said, 'O merchants! O men of wealth! every round thing is not a walnut nor every long thing a banana; every thing red is not meat nor everything white fat. O merchants, I have here this unique pearl, this unvalued jewel! What price shall I set on her?' 'Say four thousand five hundred dinars,' cried one. So the broker opened the biddings for her at that sum and as he was yet calling, behold, the Vizier Muin ben Sawa passed through the market and seeing Noureddin standing in a corner, said to himself, 'What doth the son of Khacan here? Has this gallows-bird aught left to buy girls withal?' Then he looked round and seeing the broker crying out and the merchants round him, said to himself, 'Doubtless he is ruined and has brought the damsel Enis el Jelis hither to sell her! What a solace to my heart!' Then he called the crier, who came up and kissed the ground before him, and he said to him, 'Show me the girl thou art crying for sale.' The broker dared not cross him, so he answered, 'O my lord, in the name of God!' And brought the damsel and showed her to him. She pleased him and he said, 'O Hassan, what is bidden for this damsel?' 'Four thousand five hundred dinars,' replied the broker, 'as an upset price.' Quoth the Vizier, 'I take that bid on myself.' When the merchants heard this, they hung back and dared not bid another dirhem, knowing what they did of the Vizier's tyranny. Then Muin looked at the broker and said to him, 'What ails thee to stand still? Go and offer four thousand dinars for her, and the five hundred shall be for thyself.' So the broker went to Noureddin and said to him, 'O my lord, thy slave is gone for nothing!' 'How so?' said he. The broker answered, 'We had opened the biddings for her at four thousand five hundred dinars, when that tyrant Muin ben Sawa passed through the market and when he saw the damsel, she pleased him and he said to me, "Call me the buyer for four thousand dinars, and thou shalt have five hundred for thyself." I doubt not but he knows she belongs to thee, and if he would pay thee down her price at once, it were well; but I know, of his avarice and upright, he will give thee a written order on some of his agents and will send after thee to say to them, "Give him nothing." So as often as thou shalt go to seek the money, they will say, "We will pay thee presently," and so they will put thee off day after day, for all thy high spirit, till at last, when they are tired of thine importunity, they will say, "Show us the bill." Then, as soon as they get hold of it, they will tear it up, and so thou wilt lose the girl's price.' When Noureddin heard this, he looked at the broker and said to him, 'What is to be done?' 'I will give thee a counsel,' answered he, 'which if thou follow, it will be greatly to thine advantage.' 'What is that?' asked Noureddin. 'Do thou come to me presently,' said the broker, 'when I am standing in the midst of the market and taking the girl from my hand, give her a cuff and say to her, "O baggage, I have kept my vow and brought thee down to the market, because I swore that I would put thee up for sale and make the brokers cry thee." If thou do this, it may be the device will impose upon the Vizier and the folk, and they will believe that thou broughtest her not to the market but for the quittance of thine oath.' 'This is a good counsel,' said Noureddin. Then the broker left him and returning to the midst of the market, took the damsel by the hand; then beckoned to Muin and said to him, 'O my lord, here comes her owner.' With this up came Noureddin and snatching the girl from the broker, gave her a cuff and said to her, 'Out on thee, thou baggage! I have brought thee down to the market for the quittance of my oath; so now begone home and look that thou cross me not again. Out on thee! do I need thy price, that I should sell thee? The furniture of my house would fetch many times thy value, if I sold it.' When Muin saw this, he said to Noureddin, 'Out on thee! Hast thou aught left to sell?' And he made to lay violent hands on him; but the merchants interposed, for they all loved Noureddin, and the latter said to them, 'Behold, I am in your hands, and ye all know his tyranny!' 'By Allah,' exclaimed the Vizier, 'but for you, I would have killed him!' Then all the merchants signed to Noureddin with their eyes as who should say, 'Work thy will of him; not one of us will come betwixt him and thee.' Whereupon Noureddin, who was a stout-hearted fellow, went up to the Vizier and dragging him from his saddle, threw him to the ground. Now there was in that place a mortar-pit, into the midst of which he fell, and Noureddin fell to cuffing and pummelling him, and one of the blows smote his teeth, dyeing his beard with his blood. There were with the Vizier ten armed slaves, who, seeing their master thus evil entreated, clapped their hands to their swords and would have drawn them and fallen on Noureddin, to kill him; but the bystanders said to them, 'This is a Vizier and that a Vizier's son; it may be they will make peace with one another anon, in which case you will have gotten the hatred of both of them. Or a blow may fall on your lord, and you will all die the foulest of deaths; so you would do wisely not to interfere.' So they held aloof and when Noureddin had made an end of beating the Vizier, he took his slave-girl and went home; and Muin rose, with his white clothes dyed of three colours with black mud, red blood and ashes. When he saw himself in this plight, he put a halter round his neck and taking a bundle of coarse grass in either hand, went up to the palace and standing under the King's windows, cried out, 'O King of the age, I am a man aggrieved!' So they brought him before the Sultan, who looked at him and knowing him for his chief Vizier, asked who had entreated him thus. Whereupon he wept and sobbed and repeated the following verses:

Shall fortune oppress me, and that in thy day, O King? Shall
     wolves devour me, whilst thou art a lion proud?
Shall all that are thirsty drink of thy water-tanks And shall I
     thirst in thy courts, whilst thou art a rain-fraught cloud?

'O my lord,' continued he, 'thus fare all who love and serve thee.' 'Make haste,' said the Sultan, 'and tell me how this happened and who hath dealt thus with thee, whose honour is a part of my own honour.' 'Know then, O my lord,' replied the Vizier, 'that I went out this day to the slave-market to buy me a cook-maid, when I saw in the bazaar a damsel, whose like for beauty I never beheld. She pleased me and I thought to buy her for our lord the Sultan; so I asked the broker of her and her owner, and he replied, "She belongs to Noureddin Ali son of Fezl ben Khacan." Now our lord the Sultan aforetime gave his father ten thousand dinars to buy him a handsome slave-girl, and he bought therewith this damsel, who pleased him, so that he grudged her to our lord the Sultan and gave her to his own son. When Fezl died, his son sold all that he possessed of houses and gardens and household stuff and squandered the price, till he became penniless. Then he brought the girl down to the market, to sell her, and handed her to the broker, who cried her and the merchants bid for her, till her price reached four thousand dinars; whereupon I said to myself, "I will buy her for our lord the Sultan, for it was his money that paid for her." So I said to Noureddin, "O my son, sell her to me for four thousand dinars." He looked at me and replied, "O pestilent old man, I will sell her to a Jew or a Christian rather than to thee!" "I do not buy her for myself," said I, "but for our lord and benefactor the Sultan." When he heard my words, he flew into a passion and dragging me off my horse, for all I am an old man, beat me till he left me as thou seest; and all this has befallen me but because I thought to buy the girl for thee.' Then the Vizier threw himself on the ground and lay there, weeping and trembling. When the Sultan saw his condition and heard his story, the vein of anger started out between his eyes, and he turned to his guards, who stood before him, forty swordsmen, and said to them, 'Go down at once to the house of Noureddin ben Fezl, and sack it and raze it; then take him and the damsel and drag them hither with their hands bound behind them.' 'We hear and obey,' answered they: and arming themselves, set out for Noureddin's house. Now there was with the Sultan a man called Ilmeddin Senjer, who had aforetime been servant to Noureddin's father Fezl ben Khacan, but had left his service for that of the Sultan, who had advanced him to be one of his chamberlains. When he heard the Sultan's order and saw the enemies intent upon killing his master's son, it was grievous to him; so he went out from before the Sultan and mounting his steed, rode to Noureddin's house and knocked at the door. Noureddin came out and knowing him, would have saluted him: but he said, 'O my lord, this is no time for greeting or converse.' 'O Ilmeddin,' asked Noureddin, 'what is the matter?' 'Arise and flee for your lives, thou and the damsel,' replied he: 'for Muin ben Sawa hath laid a snare for you; and if you fall into his hands, he will kill you. The Sultan hath despatched forty swordsmen against you and I counsel you flee ere evil overtake you.' Then Senjer put his hand to his pouch and finding there forty dinars, took them and gave them to Noureddin, saying, 'O my lord, take these and journey with them. If I had more, I would give them to thee; but this is no time to take exception.' So Noureddin went in to the damsel and told her what had happened, at which she wrung her hands. Then they went out at once from the city, and God let down the veil of His protection over them, so that they reached the river-bank, where they found a ship about to sail. Her captain stood in the waist, saying, 'Whoso has aught to do, whether in the way of victualling or taking leave of his friends, or who has forgotten any necessary thing, let him do it at once and return, for we are about to sail.' And every one said, 'O captain, we have nothing left to do.' Whereupon he cried out to his crew, saying, 'Ho, there! cast off the moorings and pull up the pickets!' Quoth Noureddin, 'Whither bound, O captain?' 'To the Abode of Peace, Baghdad,' replied he. So Noureddin and the damsel embarked with him, and they launched out and spread the sails, and the ship sped forth, as she were a bird in full flight, even as says right well the poet:

Look at a ship, how ravishing a sight she is and fair! In her
     swift course she doth outstrip the breezes of the air.
She seems as 'twere a scudding bird that, lighting from the sky,
     Doth on the surface of the stream with outspread pinions
     fare.

Meanwhile the King's officers came to Noureddin's house and breaking open the doors, entered and searched the whole place, but could find no trace of him and the damsel; so they demolished the house and returning to the Sultan, told him what they had done; whereupon he said, 'Make search for them, wherever they are!' And they answered, 'We hear and obey.' Then he bestowed upon the Vizier Muin a dress of honour and said to him, 'None shall avenge thee but myself.' So Muin's heart was comforted and he wished the King long life and returned to his own house. Then the Sultan caused proclamation to be made in the town, saying, 'O all ye people! It is the will of our lord the Sultan that whoso happens on Noureddin Ali ben Khacan and brings him to the Sultan shall receive a dress of honour and a thousand dinars, and he who conceals him or knows his abiding-place and informs not thereof, deserves the exemplary punishment that shall befall him.' So search was made for Noureddin, but they could find neither trace nor news of him; and meantime he and the damsel sailed on with a fair wind, till they arrived safely at Baghdad and the captain said to them, 'This is Baghdad, and it is a city of safety: the winter hath departed from it, with its cold, and the season of the Spring is come, with its roses; its trees are in blossom and its streams flowing.' So Noureddin landed, he and the damsel, and giving the captain five dinars, walked on awhile, till chance brought them among the gardens and they came to a place swept and sprinkled, with long benches on either hand and hanging pots full of water. Overhead was a trelliswork of canes shading the whole length of the alley, and at the further end was the door of a garden; but this was shut. 'By Allah,' said Noureddin to the damsel, 'this is a pleasant place!' And she answered, 'O my lord, let us sit down on these benches and rest awhile.' So they mounted and sat down on the benches, after having washed their faces and hands; and the air smote on them and they fell asleep, glory be to Him who never sleeps! Now the garden in question was called the Garden of Delight and therein stood a pavilion called the Pavilion of Pictures, belonging to the Khalif Haroun er Reshid, who used, when sad at heart, to repair thither and there sit. In this pavilion were fourscore windows and fourscore hanging lamps and in the midst a great chandelier of gold. When the Khalif entered, he was wont to have all the windows opened and to order his boon-companion Isaac ben Ibrahim and the slave-girls to sing, till his care left him and his heart was lightened. Now the keeper of the garden was an old man by name Gaffer Ibrahim, and he had found, from time to time, on going out on his occasions, idlers taking their case with courtezans in the alley leading to the door of the garden, at which he was sore enraged; so he complained to the Khalif, who said, 'Whomsoever thou findest at the door of the garden, do with him as thou wilt.' As chance would have it, he had occasion to go abroad that very day and found these two sleeping at the gate, covered with one veil; whereupon, 'By Allah,' said he, 'this is fine! These two know not that the Khalif has given me leave to kill any one whom I may catch at the door of the garden: but I will give them a sound drubbing, that none may come near the gate in future.' So he cut a green palm-stick and went out to them and raising his arm, till the whiteness of his armpit appeared, was about to lay on to them, when he bethought himself and said, 'O Ibrahim, wilt thou beat them, knowing not their case? Maybe they are strangers or wayfarers, and destiny hath led them hither. I will uncover their faces and look on them.' So he lifted up the veil from their faces and said, 'They are a handsome pair! It were not fitting that I should beat them.' Then he covered their faces again, and going to Noureddin's feet, began to rub them, whereupon the young man awoke, and seeing an old man of venerable appearance rubbing his feet, was abashed and drawing them in, sat up; then took Ibrahim's hand and kissed it. Quoth the old man, 'O my son, whence art thou?' 'O my lord,' replied Noureddin, 'we are strangers.' And the tears started to his eyes. 'O my son,' said Ibrahim, 'know that the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve!) hath charged us to be hospitable to strangers. Wilt thou not rise, O my son, and pass into the garden and take thy pleasure therein and gladden thy heart?' 'O my lord,' said Noureddin, 'to whom does the garden belong?' And he replied, 'O my son, I inherited it from my family.' Now his object in saying this was to put them at their ease and induce them to enter the garden. So Noureddin thanked him and rose, he and the damsel, and followed him into the garden. They entered through a gateway, vaulted like a gallery and overhung with vines bearing grapes of various colours, the red like rubies and the black like ebony, and passing under a bower of trellised boughs, found themselves in a garden, and what a garden! There were fruit-trees growing singly and in clusters and birds warbling melodiously on the branches, whilst the thousand-voiced nightingale repeated the various strains: the turtle-dove filled the place with her cooing, and there sang the blackbird, with its warble like a human voice, and the ring-dove, with her notes like a drinker exhilarated with wine. The trees were laden with all manner of ripe fruits, two of each: the apricot in its various kinds, camphor and almond and that of Khorassan, the plum, whose colour is as that of fair women, the cherry, that does away discoloration of the teeth, and the fig of three colours, red and white and green. There bloomed the flower of the bitter orange, as it were pearls and coral, the rose whose redness puts to shame the cheeks of the fair, the violet, like sulphur on fire by night, the myrtle, the gillyflower, the lavender, the peony and the blood-red anemone. The leaves were jewelled with the tears of the clouds; the camomile smiled with her white petals like a lady's teeth, and the narcissus looked at the rose with her negro's eyes: the citrons shone like cups and the limes like balls of gold, and the earth was carpeted with flowers of all colours; for the Spring was come and the place beamed with its brightness; whilst the birds sang and the stream rippled and the breeze blew softly, for the attemperance of the air. Ibrahim carried them up into the pavilion, and they gazed on its beauty and on the lamps aforesaid in the windows; and Noureddin called to mind his banquetings of time past and said, 'By Allah, this is a charming place!' Then they sat down and the gardener set food before them; and they ate their fill and washed their hands; after which Noureddin went up to one of the windows and calling the damsel, fell to gazing on the trees laden with all manner of fruits. Then he turned to the gardener and said to him, 'O Gaffer Ibrahim, hast thou no drink here, for folk use to drink after eating?' The old man brought him some fresh sweet cold water, but he said, 'This is not the kind of drink I want.' 'Belike,' said Ibrahim, 'thou wishest for wine?' 'I do,' replied Noureddin. 'God preserve me from it!' said the old man. 'It is thirteen years since I did this thing, for the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve!) cursed its drinker, its presser, its seller and its carrier.' 'Hear two words from me,' said Noureddin. 'Say on,' replied Ibrahim. 'If,' said Noureddin, 'that unlucky ass there be cursed, will any part of the curse fall on thee?' 'Not so,' replied the old man. 'Then,' said Noureddin, 'take this dinar and these two dirhems and mount the ass and stop at a distance (from the wineshop); then call the first man thou seest buying, and say to him, "Take these two dirhems and buy me this dinar's worth of wine and set it on the ass." Thus thou wilt be neither the purchaser nor the carrier of the wine and no part of the curse will fall on thee.' At this the gardener laughed and said, 'O my son, never have I seen one readier-witted than thou nor heard aught sweeter than thy speech.' So he did as Noureddin had said, and the latter thanked him, saying, 'We are dependent on thee, and it is only fitting that thou comply with our wishes; so bring us what we require.' 'O my son,' replied he, 'there is my buttery before thee.' (Now this was the store-room provided for the Commander of the Faithful.) Enter and take what thou wilt; there is more there than thou needest.' So Noureddin entered the pantry and found therein vessels of gold and silver and crystal, incrusted with all kinds of jewels, and was amazed and delighted at what he saw. Then he took what he wanted and set it on and poured the wine into flagons and decanters, whilst Ibrahim brought them fruits and flowers and withdrew and sat down at a distance. So they drank and made merry, till the wine got the mastery of them, so that their cheeks flushed and their eyes sparkled and their hair became dishevelled. Then said Ibrahim to himself, 'What ails me to sit apart? Why should I not sit with them? When shall I find myself in company with the like of these two, who are like two moons?' So he came and sat down at the corner of the dais, and Noureddin said to him, 'O my lord, my life on thee, come and sit with us!' So he came and sat by them, and Noureddin filled a cup and said to him, 'Drink, that thou mayst know the flavour of it.' 'God forbid!' replied he. 'I have not done such a thing these thirteen years.' Noureddin did not press him, but drank off the cup, and throwing himself on the ground, feigned to be overcome with drunkenness. Then said the damsel, 'O Gaffer Ibrahim, see how he serves me!' 'O my lady,' replied he, 'what ails him?' 'This is how he always treats me,' said she; 'he drinks awhile, then falls asleep and leaves me alone, with none to bear me company over my cup nor to whom I may sing whilst he drinks.' 'By Allah,' said he (and indeed her words touched his heart and made his soul incline to her), 'this is not well!' Then she looked at him and filling a cup said to him, 'I conjure thee, on my life, not to refuse me, but take this cup and drink it off and solace my heart.' So he took it and drank it off and she filled a second cup and set it on the chandelier, saying, 'O my lord, there is still this one left for thee.' 'By Allah, I cannot take it,' answered he; 'that which I have drunk suffices me.' 'By Allah,' said she, 'thou must indeed drink it.' So he took the cup and drank; and she filled him a third cup, which he took and was about to drink, when behold, Noureddin opened his eyes and sitting up, exclaimed, 'Hello, Gaffer Ibrahim, what is this? Did I not adjure thee just now, and thou refusedst, saying, "I have not done such a thing these thirteen years"?' 'By Allah,' replied he (and indeed he was abashed), 'it is her fault, not mine.' Noureddin laughed and they sat down again to carouse, but the damsel turned to Noureddin and whispered to him, 'O my lord, drink and do not press him, and I will show thee some sport with him.' Then she began to fill her master's cup and he to fill to her, and so they did time after time, till at last Ibrahim looked at them and said, 'What manner of good fellowship is this? God's malison on the glutton who keeps the cup to himself! Why dost thou not give me to drink, O my brother? What manners are these, O Blessed One!' At this they laughed till they fell backward; then they drank and gave him to drink and ceased not to carouse thus, till a third part of the night was past. Then said the damsel, 'O Gaffer Ibrahim, with thy leave, I will light one of these candles.' 'Do so,' said he; 'but light no more then one.' So she rose and beginning with one candle, lighted fourscore and sat down again. Presently Noureddin said, 'O Gaffer Ibrahim, how stands my favour with thee? May I not light one of these lamps ?' 'Light one,' replied he, 'and plague me no more.' So Noureddin rose and lighted one lamp after another, till he had lighted the whole eighty and the palace seemed to dance with light. Quoth Ibrahim (and indeed intoxication had mastered him), 'Ye are more active than I.' Then he rose and opened all the windows and sat down again; and they fell to carousing and reciting verses, till the place rang with their mirth.

Now as God the All-powerful, who appointeth a cause to everything, had decreed, the Khalif was at that moment seated at one of the windows of his palace, overlooking the Tigris, in the light of the moon. He saw the lustre of the candles and lamps reflected in the river and lifting his eyes, perceived that it came from the garden-palace, which was in a blaze with light. So he called Jaafer the Barmecide and said to him, 'O dog of a Vizier, has the city of Baghdad been taken from me and thou hast not told me?' 'What words are these?' said Jaafer. 'If Baghdad were not taken from me,' rejoined the Khalif, 'the Pavilion of Pictures would not be illuminated with lamps and candles, nor would its windows be open. Out on thee! Who would dare to do this except the Khalifate were taken from me?' Quoth Jaafer (and indeed he trembled in every limb), 'Who told thee that the pavilion was illuminated and the windows open?' 'Come hither and look,' replied the Khalif. So Jaafer came to the window and looking towards the garden, saw the pavilion flaming with light, in the darkness of the night, and thinking that this might be by the leave of the keeper, for some good reason of his own, was minded to make an excuse for him. So he said, 'O Commander of the Faithful, Gaffer Ibrahim said to me last week, "O my lord Jaafer, I desire to circumcise my sons during thy life and that of the Commander of the Faithful." "What dost thou want?" asked I; and he said, "Get me leave from the Khalif to hold the festival in the pavilion." So I said to him, "Go, circumcise them, and I will see the Khalif and tell him." So he went away and I forgot to tell thee.' 'O Jaafer,' said the Khalif, 'thou hast committed two offences against me, first, in that thou didst not tell me, secondly, in that thou didst not give the old man what he sought; for he only came and told thee this, by way of hinting a request for some small matter of money, to help him out with the expenses; and thou gavest him nothing nor toldest me.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' replied Jaafer, 'I forgot.' 'By the virtue of my forefathers,' rejoined the Khalif, 'I will not pass the rest of the night but with him, for he is a pious man, who consorts with the elders of the faith and the fakirs: doubtless they are now assembled with him and it may be that the prayer of one of them may profit us both in this world and the next. Besides, my presence will advantage him and he will be pleased.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' objected Jaafer, 'the night is far spent, and they will now be about to break up.' 'It matters not,' replied the Khalif; 'I must and will go to them.' And Jaafer was silent, being perplexed and knowing not what to do. Then the Khalif rose to his feet and taking with him Jaafer and Mesrour the eunuch, they all three disguised themselves as merchants and leaving the palace, walked on through the by-streets till they came to the garden. The Khalif went up to the gate and finding it open, was surprised and said to the Vizier, 'Look, Jaafer, how Gaffer Ibrahim has left the gate open to this hour, contrary to his wont!' They entered and walked on till they came under the pavilion, when the Khalif said, 'O Jaafer, I wish to look in upon them privily before I join them, that I may see what they are about, for up to now I hear no sound nor any fakir naming[FN#111] God.' Then he looked about and seeing a tall walnut-tree, said to Jaafer, 'I will climb this tree, for its branches come near the windows, and so look in upon them.' So he mounted the tree and climbed from branch to branch, till he reached a bough that came up to one of the windows. On this he seated himself and looking in at the window, saw a young lady and a young man as they were two moons (glory be to Him who created them and fashioned them!), and by them Gaffer Ibrahim seated, with a cup in his hand, saying, 'O princess of fair ones, drink without music is nothing worth; indeed I have heard a poet say:

Pass round the wine in the great and the small cup too, And take
     the bowl from the hands of the shining moon.[FN#112]
But without music, I charge you, forbear to drink, For sure I see
     even horses drink to a whistled tune.'

When the Khalif saw this, the vein of anger started out between his eyes and he descended and said to the Vizier, 'O Jaafer, never saw I men of piety in such a case! Do thou mount this tree and look upon them, lest the benisons of the devout escape thee.' So Jaafer climbed up, perplexed at these words, and looking in, saw Noureddin and the damsel and Gaffer Ibrahim with a cup in his hand. At this sight, he made sure of ruin and descending, stood before the Commander of the Faithful, who said to him, 'O Jaafer, praised be God who hath made us of those who observe the external forms of the Divine ordinances!' Jaafer could make no answer for excess of confusion, and the Khalif continued, 'I wonder how these people came hither and who admitted them into my pavilion! But the like of the beauty of this youth and this girl my eyes never beheld!' 'Thou art right, O Commander of the Faithful,' replied Jaafer, hoping to propitiate him. Then said the Khalif, 'O Jaafer, let us both mount the branch that overlooks the window, that we may amuse ourselves with looking at them.' So they both climbed the tree and looking in, heard Ibrahim say, 'O my lady, I have laid aside gravity in drinking wine, but this is not thoroughly delectable without the melodious sound of the strings. 'By Allah,' replied Enis el Jelis, 'if we had but some musical instrument, our joy would be complete!' When the old man heard what she said, he rose to his feet, and the Khalif said to Jaafer, 'I wonder what he is going to do.' 'I know not,' replied Jaafer. Then Ibrahim went out and returned with a lute; and the Khalif looked at it and knew it for that of Isaac the boon-companion. 'By Allah,' said he, 'if this damsel sing ill, I will crucify you, all of you; but if she sing well, I will pardon them and crucify thee.' 'God grant she may sing ill!' said Jaafer 'Why so?' asked the Khalif. 'Because,' replied Jaafer 'if thou crucify us all together, we shall keep each other company.' The Khalif laughed at his speech; then the damsel took the lute and tuning it, played a measure which made all hearts yearn to her, then sang the following verses:

O ye that to help unhappy lovers are fain! We burn with the fire
     of love and longing in vain.
Whatever ye do, we merit it: see, we cast Ourselves on your ruth!
     Do not exult in our pain.
For we are children of sadness and low estate. Do with us what
     you will; we will not complain.
What were your glory to slay us within your courts? Our fear is
     but lest you sin in working us bane.

'By Allah,' said the Khalif, 'it is good, O Jaafer! Never in my life have I heard so enchanting a voice!' 'Belike,' said Jaafer, 'the Khalif's wrath hath departed from him.' 'Yes,' said the Khalif, 'it is gone.' Then they descended from the tree, and the Khalif said to Jaafer, 'I wish to go in and sit with them and hear the damsel sing before me.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' replied Jaafer, 'if thou go in to them, they will most like be troubled and Gaffer Ibrahim will assuredly die of fright.' 'O Jaafer,' said the Khalif, 'thou must teach me some device, whereby I may foregather with them, without being known of them.' So they walked on towards the Tigris, considering of this affair, and presently came upon a fisher man standing fishing under the windows of the pavilion. Now some time before this, the Khalif (being in the pavilion) had called to Gaffer Ibrahim and said to him, 'What is this noise I hear under the windows?' 'It is the voices of the fishermen, fishing,' answered he; and the Khalif commanded him to go down and forbid them to resort thither; so the fishermen were forbidden to fish there. However, that night a fisherman named Kerim, happening to pass by and seeing the garden gate open, said to himself, 'This is a time of negligence: I will take advantage of it to fish.' So he went in, but had hardly cast his net, when the Khalif came up alone and standing behind him, knew him and called out to him, saying, 'Ho, Kerim!' The fisherman, hearing himself called by his name, turned round, and seeing the Khalif, trembled in every limb and exclaimed, 'O Commander of the Faithful, I did it not in mockery of the edict; but poverty and distress drove me to what thou seest.' Quoth the Khalif, 'Make a cast in my name.' At this the fisherman was glad and going to the bank, cast his net, then waiting till it had spread out to the utmost and settled down, pulled it up and found in it various kinds of fish. The Khalif was pleased and said, 'O Kerim, put off thy clothes.' So he put off a gown of coarse woollen stuff, patched in a hundred places and full of disgusting vermin, and a turban that had not been unwound for three years, but to which he had sewn every rag he came across. The Khalif pulled off his cassock and mantle and two vests of Alexandria and Baalbec silk and saying to the fisherman, 'Take these and put them on,' donned the latter's gown and turban and tied a chin band [FN#113] round the lower part of his face. Then said he to the fisherman, 'Go about thy business.' So he kissed the Khalif's feet and thanked him and recited the following verses:

Thou hast heaped benefits on me, past all that I could crave! My
     tongue suffices not to praise thy goodness to thy slave.
So I will thank thee whilst I live; and when I come to die, My
     very bones shall never cease to thank thee in the grave.

Hardly had he finished, when the lice began to crawl over the skin of the Khalif, who fell to snatching them with either hand from his neck and throwing them down, exclaiming, 'Out on thee, O fisherman, this gown is swarming with vermin!' 'O my lord,' replied the fisherman, 'they torment thee just now, but before a week has passed, thou wilt not feel them nor think of them.' The Khalif laughed and said, 'Out on thee! Dost thou think I mean to leave this gown on my body?' 'O my lord,' said the fisherman, 'I desire to say one word to thee.' 'Say on,' answered the Khalif. 'It occurs to me, O Commander of the Faithful,' said the fisherman, 'that if thou wish to learn hunting, so thou mayst have an useful trade ready to thy hand, this gown will be the very thing for thee.' The Khalif laughed, and the fisherman went his way. Then the Khalif took up the basket of fish, and laying a little grass over it, carried it to Jaafer and stood before him. Jaafer, concluding that it was Kerim the fisherman, was alarmed for him and said, 'O Kerim, what brings thee hither? Flee for thy life, for the Khalif is in the garden to-night, and if he see thee, thou wilt lose thy head.' At this the Khalif laughed, and Jaafer knew him and said, 'Surely thou art our lord the Khalif?' 'Yes, O Jaafer,' replied he. 'And thou art my Vizier and I came hither with thee; yet thou knewest me not; so how should Gaffer Ibrahim know me, and he drunk? Stay here, till I come back.' 'I hear and obey,' answered Jaafer. Then the Khalif went up to the door of the pavilion and knocked softly, whereupon said Noureddin, 'O Gaffer Ibrahim, some one knocks at the door.' 'Who is at the door?' cried the old man; and the Khalif replied, 'It is I, O Gaffer Ibrahim!' 'Who art thou?' asked the gardener. 'I, Kerim the fisherman,' rejoined the Khalif. 'I hear thou hast company, so have brought thee some fine fish.' When Noureddin heard the mention of fish, he was glad, he and the damsel, and they both said to Ibrahim, 'O my lord, open the door and let him bring the fish in to us.' So he opened the door, and the Khalif entered, in his fisherman's disguise, and began by saluting them. Quoth Ibrahim, 'Welcome to the brigand, the robber, the gambler! Let us see thy fish.' So the Khalif showed them the fish and behold, they were still alive and moving, whereupon the damsel exclaimed, 'O my lord, these are indeed fine fish! Would that they were fried!' 'By Allah, O my mistress,' replied Ibrahim, 'thou art right.' Then said he to the Khalif, 'O fisherman, why didst thou not bring us the fish ready fried? Go now and fry them and bring them to us.' 'It shall be done at once,' answered he. Said they, 'Be quick about it.' So he went out, running, and coming up to Jaafer, cried out, 'Hallo, Jaafer!' 'Here am I, O Commander of the Faithful!' replied he. 'They want the fish fried,' said the Khalif. 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered Jaafer, 'give it to me and I will fry it for them.' 'By the tombs of my forefathers,' said the Khalif, 'none shall fry it but I, with my own hand!' So he repaired to the keeper's hut, where he searched and found all that he required, even to salt and saffron and marjoram and so forth. Then he laid the fish on the frying-pan and setting it on the brazier, fried them handsomely. When they were done, he laid them on a banana-leaf, and gathering some lemons from the garden, carried the dish to the pavilion and set it before them. So Noureddin and the damsel and Ibrahim came forward and ate, after which they washed their hands and Noureddin said to the Khalif, 'O fisherman, thou hast done us a right welcome service this night!' Then he put his hand to his pouch and taking out three of the dinars that Senjer had given him, said, 'O fisherman, excuse me. By Allah, had I known thee before that which has lately befallen me, I had done away the bitterness of poverty from thy heart; but take this as an earnest of my good will!' Then he threw the dinars to the Khalif, who took them and kissed them and put them up. Now the Khalif's sole desire in all this was to hear the damsel sing; so he said to Noureddin, 'O my lord, thou hast rewarded me munificently, but I beg of thy great bounty that thou wilt let this damsel sing an air, that I may hear her.' So Noureddin said, 'O Enis el Jelis!' 'Yes,' replied she. And he said, 'My life on thee, sing us something for the sake of this fisherman, for he wishes to hear thee.' So she took the lute and struck the strings, after she had tuned them, and sang the following verses:

The fingers of the lovely maid went wandering o'er the lute, And
     many a soul to ravishment its music did compel.
She sang, and lo, her singing cured the deaf man of his ill, And
     he that erst was dumb exclaimed, "Thou hast indeed done
     well!"

Then she played again, so admirably that she ravished their wits, and sang the following verses:

Thou honour'dst us, when thou didst in our land alight; Thy
     lustre hath dispelled the moonless midnight gloom!
Wherefore with camphor white and rose-water and musk It e'en
     behoveth us our dwelling to perfume.

At this the Khalif was agitated and so overcome with emotion that he was not master of himself for excess of delight, and he exclaimed, 'By Allah, it is good! By Allah, it is good! By Allah, it is good!' Quoth Noureddin, 'O fisherman, doth this damsel please thee?' 'Ay, by Allah!' replied he. Whereupon said Noureddin, 'I make thee a present of her, the present of a generous man who does not go back on his giving nor will revoke his gift.' Then he sprang to his feet and taking a mantle, threw it over the pretended fisherman and bade him take the damsel and begone. But she looked at him and said, 'O my lord, art thou going away without bidding me adieu? If it must be so, at least, stay whilst I bid thee farewell and make known my case.' And she repeated the following verses:

I am filled full of longing pain and memory and dole, Till I for
     languor am become a body without soul.
Say not to me, beloved one, "Thou'lt grow consoled for me;" When
     such affliction holds the heart, what is there can console?
If that 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 thou, the love of whom doth fill my heart and overflow, Even
     when wine, with water mixed, fills up the brimming bowl,
O thou for whom desire torments my body and my spright! This
     severance is the thing I feared was writ on fortune's
     scroll.
O thou, whose love from out my heart shall nevermore depart, O
     son of Khacan, thou my wish, my hope unshared and whole,
On my account thou didst transgress against our lord and king And
     left'st thy native land for me, to seek a foreign goal.
Thou givest me unto Kerim,[FN#114] may he for aye be praised! And
     may th' Almighty for my loss my dearest lord console!

When she had finished, Noureddin answered her by repeating the following:

She bade me adieu on the day of our parting And said, whilst for
     anguish she wept and she sighed,
"Ah, what wilt thou do, when from me thou art severed?" "Ask that
     of the man who'll survive," I replied.

When the Khalif heard what she said in her verses, 'Thou hast given me to Kerim,' his interest in her redoubled and it was grievous to him to separate them; so he said to Noureddin, 'O my lord, verily the damsel said in her verses that thou hadst transgressed against her master and him who possessed her; so tell me, against whom didst thou transgress and who is it that has a claim on thee?' 'By Allah, O fisherman,' replied Noureddin 'there hangs a rare story by me and this damsel, a story, which, were it graven with needles on the corners of the eye, would serve as a lesson to him who can profit by example.' Said the Khalif, 'Wilt thou not tell us thy story and acquaint us with thy case? Peradventure it may bring thee relief, for the help of God is near at hand.' 'O fisher man,' said Noureddin, 'wilt thou hear our story in prose or verse?' 'Prose is but words,' replied the Khalif, 'but verse is strung pearls.' Then Noureddin bowed his head and spoke the following verses.

     O my friend, I have bidden farewell to repose, And the
          anguish of exile has doubled my woes
     I once had a father, who loved me right dear, But left me,
          to dwell in the tombs, where all goes.
     There fell on me after him hardship and pain And Fate broke
          in pieces my heart with its blows.
     He bought me a slave-girl, the fairest of maids; Her shape
          shamed the branch and her colour the rose.
     I wasted the substance he left me, alas! And lavished it
          freely on these and on those,
     Till for need I was minded to sell the fair maid, Though
          sorely I grudged at the parting, God knows!
     But lo! when the crier 'gan call her for sale, A scurvy old
          skin-flint to bid for her chose.
     At this I was angered beyond all control And snatched her
          away ere the crier could close;
     Whereupon the old rancorous curmudgeon flamed up With
          despite and beset me with insults and blows.
     In my passion I smote him with right hand and left, Till my
          wrath was assuaged; after which I arose
     And returning, betook me in haste to my house, Where I hid
          me for feat of the wrath of my foes.
     Then the king of the city decreed my arrest: But a
          kind-hearted chamberlain pitied my woes
     And warned me to flee from the city forthright, Ere my
          enemies' springes my life should enclose.
     So we fled from our house in the dead of the night And came
          to Baghdad for a place of repose.
     I have nothing of value, nor treasures nor gold, Or I'd
          handsel thee, fisherman, freely with those!
     But I give thee, instead, the beloved of my soul, And in her
          thou hast gotten my heart's blood, God knows!

When he had finished, the Khalif said to him, 'O my lord Noureddin, explain to me thy case more fully!' So he told him the whole story from beginning to end, and the Khalif said to him, 'Whither dost thou now intend?' 'God's world is wide!' replied he. Quoth the Khalif, 'I will write thee a letter to carry to the Sultan Mohammed ben Suleiman ez Zeini, which when he reads, he will do thee no hurt.' 'Who ever heard of a fisherman writing to kings?' said Noureddin. 'Such a thing can never be.' 'True,' replied the Khalif; 'but I will tell thee the reason. Know that he and I learnt in the same school, under one master, and that I was his monitor. Since that time, fortune has betided him and he is become a Sultan, whilst God hath abased me and made me a fisherman: yet I never send to him to seek aught, but he does my desire; nay, though I should ask of him a thousand favours a day, he would comply.' When Noureddin heard this, he said, 'Good: write that I may see.' So the Khalif took pen and inkhorn and wrote as follows: 'In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful! This letter is from Haroun er Reshid son of el Mehdi to His Highness Mohammed ben Suleiman ez Zeini, whom I have compassed about with my favour and made governor for me in certain of my dominions. The bearer of these presents is Noureddin son of Felz ben Khacan the Vizier. As soon as they come to thy hand, do thou put off thy kingly dignity and invest him therewith, and look thou oppose not my commandment, so peace be on thee.' Then he gave the letter to Noureddin, who took it and kissed it, then put it in his turban and set out at once on his journey. As soon as he was gone, Gaffer Ibrahim fumed to the Khalif and said to him, 'O vilest of fishermen, thou hast brought us a couple of fish, worth a score of paras, and hast gotten three dinars for them; and thinkest thou to take the damsel also?' When the Khalif heard this, he cried out at him and made a sign to Mesrour, who discovered himself and rushed upon him. Now Jaafer had sent one of the gardeners to the doorkeeper of the palace for a suit of the royal raiment for the Commander of the Faithful; so he went and returning with the suit, kissed the earth before the Khalif and gave it to him. Then he threw off the clothes he had on and dressed himself in those which the gardener had brought, to the great amazement of Gaffer Ibrahim, who bit his nails in bewilderment and exclaimed, 'Am I asleep or awake?' 'O Gaffer Ibrahim,' said the Khalif, 'what state is this in which I see thee?' With this, he recovered from his drunkenness and throwing himself on the ground, repeated the following verses:

Forgive the error into which my straying feet did fall, For the
     slave sues for clemency from him to whom he's thrall!
Lo, by confessing I have done what the offence requires! Where
     then is that for which good grace and generous mercy call?

The Khalif forgave him and bade carry the damsel to the palace, where he assigned her a separate lodging and servants to wait upon her, saying to her, 'Know that we have sent thy master to be Sultan in Bassora, and God willing, we will despatch him a dress of honour and thee with it.'

Meanwhile, Noureddin fared on, till he reached Bassora, when he repaired to the Sultan's palace and gave a loud cry. The Sultan heard him and sent for him; and when he came into his presence, he kissed the earth before him and pulling out the letter, gave it to him. The Sultan, seeing that the superscription was in the handwriting of the Khalif, rose to his feet and kissed the letter three times, then read it and said, 'I hear and obey God and the Commander of the Faithful!' Then he summoned the four Cadis and the Amirs and was about to divest himself of the kingly office, when in came the Vizier Muin ben Sawa. The Sultan gave him the Khalif's letter, and he read it, then tore it in pieces and putting it in his mouth, chewed it and threw it away. 'Out on thee!' exclaimed the Sultan (and indeed he was angry); 'what made thee do that?' 'By thy life, O our lord the Sultan,' replied Muin, 'this fellow hath never seen the Khalif nor his Vizier: but he is a gallows-bird, a crafty imp who, happening upon a blank[FN#115] sheet in the Khalif's handwriting, hath written his own desire in it. The Khalif would surely not have sent him to take the Sultanate from thee, without a royal mandate and a patent appended thereto, nor would he have omitted to send with him a chamberlain or a vizier. But he is alone and hath never come from the Khalif, never! never!' 'What is to be done?' said the Sultan. 'Leave him to me,' replied the Vizier: 'I will send him in charge of a chamberlain to the city of Baghdad. If what he says be true, they will bring us back royal letters-patent and a diploma of investiture; and if not, I will pay him what I owe him.' When the Sultan heard the Vizier's words, he said, 'Take him.' So Muin carried Noureddin to his own house and cried out to his servants, who threw him down and beat him, till he swooned away. Then he caused heavy shackles to be put on his feet and carried him to the prison, where he called the gaoler, whose name was Cuteyt, and said to him, 'O Cuteyt, take this fellow and throw him into one of the underground cells in the prison and torture him night and day.' 'I hear and obey,' replied he, and taking Noureddin into the prison, locked the door on him. Then he bade sweep a bench behind the door and laying thereon a mattress and a leather rug, made Noureddin sit down. Moreover, he loosed his fetters and treated him kindly. The Vizier sent every day to the gaoler, charging him to beat him, but he abstained from this, and things abode thus forty days' time. On the forty-first day, there came a present from the Khalif: which when the Sultan saw, it pleased him and he took counsel about it with his Viziers, one of whom said, 'Mayhap this present was intended for the new Sultan.' Quoth Muin, 'We should have done well to put him to death at his first coming;' and the Sultan said, 'By Allah, thou remindest me of him! Go down to the prison and fetch him, and I will strike off his head.' 'I hear end obey,' replied Muin. 'With thy leave I will have proclamation made in the city, "Whoso hath a mind to look upon the beheading of Noureddin Ali ben Khacan, let him repair to the palace!" So, great and small will come out to gaze on him and I shall heal my heart and mortify those that envy me.' 'As thou wilt,' said the Sultan; whereupon the Vizier went out, rejoicing, and commanded the chief of the police to make the aforesaid proclamation. When the folk heard the crier, they all mourned and wept, even to the little ones in the schools and the tradersin the shops, and some hastened to get them places to see the sight, whilst others repaired to the prison thinking to accompany him thence. Presently, the Vizier came to the prison, attended by ten armed slaves, and the gaoler said to him, 'What seekest thou, O our lord the Vizier?' 'Bring me that gallows-bird,' replied the Vizier; and the gaoler said, 'He is in the sorriest of plights for the much beating I have given him.' Then Cuteyt went into the prison, where he found Noureddin repeating the following verses:

Who shall avail me against the woes that my life enwind? Indeed
     my disease is sore and the remedy hard to find.
Exile hath worn my heart and my spirit with languishment, And
     evil fortune hath turned my very lovers unkind.
O folk, is there none of you all will answer my bitter cry! Is
     there never a merciful friend will help me of all mankind?
Yet death and the pains of death are a little thing to me; I have
     put off the hope of life and left its sweets behind.
O Thou that sentest the Guide, the Chosen Prophet to men, The
     Prince of the Intercessors, gifted to loose and bind,
I prithee, deliver me and pardon me my default, And put the
     troubles to flight that crush me, body and mind I

The gaoler took off his clean clothes and clothing him in two filthy garments, carried him to the Vizier. Noureddin looked at him, and knowing him for his enemy who still sought to compass his death, wept and said to him, 'Art thou then secure against Fate? Hast thou not heard the saying of the poet?

Where are now the old Chosroes, tyrants of a bygone day? Wealth they gathered; but their treasures and themselves have passed away!

O Vizier,' continued he, 'know that God (blessed and exalted be He!) doth whatever He will!' 'O Ali,' replied the Vizier, 'dost thou think to fright me with this talk? Know that I mean this day to strike off thy head in despite of the people of Bassora, and let the days do what they will, I care not; nor will I take thought to thy warning, but rather to what the poet says:

Let the days do what they will, without debate, And brace thy spirit against the doings of Fate.

And also how well says another:

He who lives a day after his foe Hath compassed his wishes, I trow!

Then he ordered his attendants to set Noureddin on the back of a mule, and they said to the youth (for indeed it was grievous to them), 'Let us stone him and cut him in pieces, though it cost us our lives.' 'Do it not,' replied Noureddin. 'Have ye not heard what the poet says?

A term's decreed for me, which I must needs fulfil, And when its
     days are spent, I die, do what I will.
Though to their forest dens the lions should me drag, Whilst but
     an hour remains, they have no power to kill.'

Then they proceeded to proclaim before Noureddin, 'This is the least of the punishment of those who impose upon kings with forgery!' And they paraded him round about Bassora, till they came beneath the windows of the palace, where they made him kneel down on the carpet of blood and the headsman came up to him and said, 'O my lord, I am but a slave commanded in this matter: if thou hast any desire, let me know, that I may fulfil it; for now there remains of thy life but till the Sultan shall put his head out of the window.' So Noureddin looked in all directions and repeated the following verses:

I see the headsman and the sword, I see the carpet spread, And
     cry "Alas, my sorry plight! Alas, my humbled head!"
How is't I have no pitying friend to help me in my need? Will no
     one answer my complaint or heed the tears I shed?
My time of life is past away and death draws nigh to me: Will no
     one earn the grace of God by standing me in stead?
Will none take pity on my state and succour my despair With but a
     cup of water cold, to ease my torments dread?

The people fell to weeping for him, and the headsman rose and brought him a draught of water; but the Vizier smote the gugglet with his hand and broke it: then he cried out at the executioner and bade him strike off Noureddin's head. So he proceeded to bind the latter's eyes; whilst the people cried out against the Vizier and there befell a great tumult and dispute amongst them. At this moment there arose a great cloud of dust and filled the air and the plain; and when the Sultan, who was sitting in the palace, saw this, he said to his attendants, 'Go and see what is the meaning of that cloud of dust.' 'When we have cut off this fellow's head,' replied Muin; but the Sultan said, 'Wait till we see what this means.'

Now the cloud of dust in question was raised by Jaafer the Barmecide, Vizier to the Khalif, and his retinue; and the reason of his coming was as follows. The Khalif passed thirty days without calling to mind the affair of Noureddin Ali ben Khacan, and none reminded him of it, till one night, as he passed by the apartment of Enis el Jelis, he heard her weeping and reciting the following verse, in a low and sweet voice:

Thine image is ever before me, though thou art far away, Nor doth my tongue give over the naming of thee aye!

And her weeping redoubled; when lo, the Khalif opened the door and entering the chamber, found her in tears. When she saw him, she fell to the earth and kissing his feet three times, repeated the following verses:

O thou pure of royal lineage and exalted in thy birth! O thou
     tree of fruitful branches, thou the all unstained of race!
I recall to thee the promise that thy noble bounty made: God
     forbid thou shouldst forget it or withhold the gifted grace!

Quoth the Khalif, 'Who art thou?' And she answered, 'I am she whom thou hadst as a present from Noureddin Ali ben Khacan, and I crave the fulfilment of thy promise to send me to him with the dress of honour; for I have now been here thirty days, without tasting sleep.' Thereupon the Khalif sent for Jaafer and said to him, 'O Jaafer, it is thirty days since we had news of Noureddin Ali ben Khacan, and I doubt me the Sultan has killed him; but by the life of my head and the tombs of my forefathers, if aught of ill have befallen him, I will make an end of him who was the cause of it, though he be the dearest of all men to myself! So it is my wish that thou set out at once for Bassora and bring me news of my cousin Mohammed ben Suleiman ez Zeini and how he hath dealt with Noureddin; and do thou tell my cousin the young man's history and how I sent him to him with my letter, and if thou find that the King hath done otherwise than after my commandment, lay hands on him and his Vizier Muin ben Sawa and bring them to us, as thou shalt find them. Nor do thou tarry longer on the road than shall suffice for the journey, or I will strike off thy head.' 'I hear and obey,' replied Jaafer, and made ready at once and set out for Bassora, where he arrived in due course. When he came up and saw the crowd and turmoil, he enquired what was the matter and was told how it stood with Noureddin Ali, whereupon he hastened to go in to the Sultan and saluting him, acquainted him with his errand and the Khalif's determination, in case of any foul play having befallen Noureddin, to destroy whosoever should have been the cause of it. Then he seized upon the Sultan and his Vizier and laid them in ward, and commanding Noureddin to be released, seated him on the throne in the place of Mohammed ben Suleiman. After this Jaafer abode three days at Bassora, the usual guest-time, and on the morning of the fourth day, Noureddin turned to him and said, 'I long for the sight of the Commander of the Faithful.' Then said Jaafer to Mohammed ben Suleiman, 'Make ready, for we will pray the morning-prayer and take horse for Baghdad.' And he answered, 'I hear and obey.' So they prayed the morning-prayer and set out, all of them, taking with them the Vizier Muin ben Sawa, who began to repent of what he had done. Noureddin rode by Jaafer's side and they fared on without ceasing, till they arrived in due course at the Abode of Peace, Baghdad, and going in to the Khalif's presence, told him how they had found Noureddin nigh upon death. The Khalif said to Noureddin, 'Take this sword and strike off thine enemy's head.' So he took the sword and went up to Muin ben Sawa, but the latter looked at him and said, 'I did according to my nature; do thou according to thine.' So Noureddin threw the sword from his hand and said to the Khalif, 'O Commander of the Faithful, he hath beguiled me with his speech,' and he repeated the following verse:

Lo, with the cunning of his speech my heart he hath beguiled, For generous minds are ever moved by artful words and mild!

'Leave him, thou,' said the Khalif, and turning to Mesrour, commanded him to behead Muin. So Mesrour drew his sword and smote off the Vizier's head. Then said the Khalif to Noureddin, 'Ask a boon of me.' 'O my lord,' answered he, 'I have no need of the sovereignty of Bassora: all my desire is to have the honour of serving thee and looking on thy face.' 'With all my heart,' replied the Khalif. Then he sent for Enis el Jelis and bestowed plentiful favours upon them both, assigning them a palace at Baghdad and regular allowances. Moreover, he made Noureddin one of his boon-companions, and the latter abode with him in the enjoyment of the most delectable life, till Death overtook him.

GHANIM BEN EYOUB THE SLAVE OF LOVE.

There lived once at Damascus, in the days of the Khalif Haroun er Reshid, a wealthy merchant, who had a son like the moon at its full and withal sweet of speech, called Ghanim ben Eyoub, and a daughter called Fitneh, unique in her beauty and grace. Their father died and left them abundant wealth and amongst other things a hundred loads of silk and brocade and bladders of musk, on each of which was written, 'This is of the loads intended for Baghdad,' he having been about to make the journey thither, when God the Most High took him to Himself. After awhile, his son took the loads and bidding farewell to his mother and kindred and townsfolk, set out for Baghdad with a company of merchants, committing himself to God the Most High, who decreed him safety, so that he arrived without hindrance at that city. Here he hired a handsome house, which he furnished with carpets and cushions and hangings, and stored his goods therein and put up his mules and camels. Then he abode awhile, resting, whilst the merchants and notables of Baghdad came and saluted him; after which he took a parcel containing ten pieces of costly stuffs, with the prices written on them, and carried it to the bazaar, where the merchants received him with honour and made him sit down in the shop of the chief of the market, to whom he delivered the parcel of stuffs. He opened it and taking out the stuffs, sold them for him at a profit of two dinars on every one of prime cost. At this Ghanim rejoiced and went on to sell his stuffs, little by little, for a whole year. On the first day of the following year, he repaired, as usual, to the bazaar in the market-place, but found the gate shut and enquiring the reason, was told that one of the merchants was dead and that all the others had gone to wail in his funeral and was asked if he were minded to gain the favour of God by going with them. He assented and enquired where the funeral was to be held, whereupon they directed him to the place. So he made the ablution and repaired with the other merchants to the place of prayer, where they prayed over the dead, then went before the bier to the burial-place without the city and passed among the tombs till they came to the grave. Here they found that the dead man's people had pitched a tent over the tomb and brought thither lamps and candles. So they buried the dead and sat down to listen to the reading of the Koran over the tomb. Ghanim sat with them, being overcome with bashfulness and saying to himself, 'I cannot well go away till they do.' They sat listening to the recitation till nightfall, when the servants set the evening meal and sweetmeats before them and they ate till they were satisfied, then sat down again, after having washed their hands. But Ghanim was troubled for his house and property being in fear of thieves, and said to himself, 'I am a stranger here and thought to be rich, and if I pass the night abroad, the thieves will steal the money and the goods.' So he arose and left the company, having first asked leave to go about a necessary business, and following the beaten track, came to the gate of the city, but found it shut and saw none going or coming nor heard aught but the dogs barking and the wolves howling, for it was now the middle of the night. At this he exclaimed, 'There is no power and no virtue but in God! I was in fear for my property and came back on its account, but now I find the gate shut and am become in fear for my life!' And he retraced his steps, seeking a place where he might pass the night, till he found a tomb enclosed by four walls, with a palm-tree in its midst and a gate of granite. The gate stood open; so he entered and lay down, but sleep came not to him and fright and oppression beset him, for that he was alone among the tombs. So he rose to his feet and opening the door, looked out and saw, in the distance, a light making for the tomb from the direction of the city-gate. At this he was afraid and hastening to shut the gate, climbed up into the palm-tree and hid himself among the branches. The light came nearer and nearer, till he could see three black slaves, two carrying a chest and a third a lantern, an adze and a basket of plaster. When they came to the tomb, one of those who were carrying the chest cried out to the other, 'Hello, Sewab!' 'What ails thee, O Kafour?' said the other. 'Were we not here at nightfall,' asked the first, 'and did we not leave the gate open?' 'True,' replied Sewab. 'See,' said the other, 'it is now shut and barred.' 'How small is your wit!' broke in the bearer of the lantern, whose name was Bekhit. 'Do ye not know that the owners of the gardens use to come out of Baghdad to tend them, and when the night overtakes them, they enter this place and shut the gate, for fear the blacks like ourselves should catch them and roast them and eat them?' 'Thou art right,' replied the others; 'but, by Allah, none of us is less of wit than thou!' 'If you do not believe me,' said Bekhit, 'let us go into the tomb and I will unearth the rat for you; I doubt not but that, when he saw the light and us making for the tomb, he took refuge in the palm-tree, for fear of us.' When Ghanim heard this, he said to himself, 'O most damnable of slaves, may God not have thee in His keeping for this thy craft and quickness of wit! There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme! How shall I escape from these blacks?' Then said the two bearers to him of the lantern, 'Climb over the wall and open the door to us, O Bekhit, for we are tired of carrying the chest on our shoulders; and thou shalt have one of those that we seize inside, and we will fry him for thee so featly that not a drop of his fat shall be lost.' But he said, 'I am afraid of somewhat that my little sense has suggested to me; we should do better to throw the chest over the wall; for it is our treasure.' 'If we throw it over, it will break,' replied they. And he said, 'I fear lest there be brigands within who kill four and steal their goods; for they are wont when night falls on them, to enter these places and divide their spoil.' 'O thou of little wit!' rejoined they, 'how could they get in here?' Then they set down the chest and climbing the wall, got down and opened the gate, whilst Bekhit held the light for them, after which they shut the door and sat down. Then said one of them, 'O my brothers, we are tired with walking and carrying the chest, and it is now the middle of the night, and we have no breath left to open the tomb and bury the chest: so let us rest two or three hours, then rise and do what we have to do. Meanwhile each of us shall tell how he came to be an eunuch and all that befell him from first to last, to pass away the time, whilst we rest ourselves.' 'Good,' answered the others; and Bekhit said, 'O my brothers, I will begin.' 'Say on,' replied they. So he began as follows, 'Know, O my brothers, that

Story of the Eunuch Bekhit.

I was brought from my native country, when I was five years old, by a slave-merchant, who sold me to one of the royal messengers. My master had a three-year-old daughter, with whom I was reared, and they used to make sport of me, letting me play with the girl and dance and sing to her, till I reached the age of twelve and she that of ten; and even then they did not forbid me from her. One day, I went in to her and found her sitting in an inner room, perfumed with essences and scented woods, and her face shone like the round of the moon on its fourteenth night, as if she had just come out of the bath that was in the house. She began to sport with me, and I with her. Now I had just reached the age of puberty, and my yard rose on end, as it were a great bolt. Then she threw me down and mounting my breast, pulled me hither and thither, till my yard became uncovered. When she saw this, and it in point, she seized it in her hand and fell to rubbing it against the lips of her kaze, outside her trousers. At this, heat stirred in me and I put my arms round her, whilst she wreathed hers about my neck and strained me to her with all her might, till, before I knew what I did, my yard thrust through her trousers, and entering her kaze, did away her maidenhead. When I saw what I had done, I fled and took refuge with one of my comrades. Presently, her mother came in to her, and seeing her in this state, was lost to the world. However, she smoothed the matter over and hid the girl's condition from her father, of the love they bore me, nor did they cease to call to me and coax me, till they took me from where I was. After two months had passed by, her mother married her to a young man, a barber, who used to shave her father, and portioned and fitted her out of her own monies, whilst her father knew nothing of what had passed. Then they took me unawares and gelded me: and when they brought her to her husband, they made me her eunuch, to go before her, wherever she went, whether to the bath or to her father's house. On the wedding-night, they slaughtered a young pigeon and sprinkled the blood on her shift;[FN#116] and I abode with her a long while, enjoying her beauty and grace, by way of kissing and clipping and clicketing, till she died and her husband and father and mother died also; when they seized me for the Treasury and I found my way hither, where I became your comrade. This then, O my brothers, is my story and how I came to be docked of my cullions; and peace be on you.' Then said the second eunuch, 'Know, O my brothers, that

Story of the Eunuch Kafour.

From the time when I was eight years old, I was wont to tell the slave-merchants one lie every year, so that they fell out with one another, till at last my master lost patience with me and carrying me down to the market, delivered me to a broker and bade him cry me for sale, saying, "Who will buy this slave with his fault?" He did so, and it was asked him, "What is his fault?" Quoth he, "He tells one lie every year." Then came up one of the merchants and said to the broker, "How much have they bidden for this slave, with his fault?" "Six hundred dirhems," replied the broker. "And twenty dirhems for thyself," said the merchant. So he brought him to the slave-dealer, who took the money, and the broker carried me to my master's house and went away, after having received his brokerage. The merchant clothed me as befitted my condition, and I bode in his service the rest of the year, until the new year came in with good omen. It was a blessed season, rich in herbage and the fruits of the earth, and the merchants began to give entertainments every day, each bearing the cost in turn, till it came to my master's turn to entertain them in a garden without the city. So he and the other merchants repaired to the garden, taking with them all that they required of food and so forth, and sat, eating and drinking and carousing, till noon, when my master, having need of something from the house, said to me, "O slave, mount the mule and go to the house and get such and such a thing from thy mistress and return quickly." I did as he bade me and started for the house, but as I drew near, I began to cry out and weep copiously, whereupon all the people of the quarter collected, great and small; and my master's wife and daughters, hearing the noise I was making, opened the door and asked me what was the matter. Quoth I, "My master and his friends were sitting beneath an old wall, and it fell on them: and when I saw what had befallen them, I mounted the mule and came hither, in haste, to tell you." When my master's wife and daughters heard this, they shrieked aloud and tore their clothes and buffeted their faces, whilst the neighbours came round them. Then my mistress overturned the furniture of the house, pell-mell, tore down the shelves, broke up the casements and the lattices and smeared the walls with mud and indigo. Presently she said to me, "Out on thee, O Kafour! Come and help me tear down these cupboards and break up these vessels and porcelain!" So I went to her and helped her break up all the shelves in the house, with everything on them, after which I went round about the roofs and every part of the house, demolishing all I could and leaving not a single piece of china or the like in the house unbroken, till I had laid waste the whole place, crying out the while, "Alas, my master!" Then my mistress sallied forth, with her face uncovered and only her kerchief on, accompanied by her sons and daughters, and said to me, "Go thou before us and show us the place where thy master lies dead under the wall, that we may take him out from the ruins and lay him on a bier and carry him to the house and give him a goodly funeral." So I went on before them, crying out, "Alas, my master!" and they after me, bareheaded, crying out, "Alas! Alas for the man!" And there was not a man nor a woman nor a boy nor an old woman in the quarter but followed us, buffeting their faces and weeping sore. On this wise, I traversed the city with them, and the folk asked what was the matter, whereupon they told them what they had heard from me, and they exclaimed, "There is no power and no virtue but in God!" Then said one of them, "He was a man of consideration; so let us go to the chief of the police and tell him what has happened." So they repaired to the magistrate and told him, whereupon he mounted and taking with him workmen with spades and baskets, set out for the scene of the accident, following my track, with all the people after him. I ran on before them, buffeting my face and throwing dust on my head and crying out, followed by my mistress and her children, shrieking aloud. But I outran them and reached the garden before them, and when my master saw me in this state and heard me crying out, "Alas, my mistress! Alas! Alas! Who is left to take pity on me, now that my mistress is dead? Would God I had died instead of her!" he was confounded and his colour paled. Then said he to me, "What ails thee, O Kafour? What is the matter?" "O my lord," replied I, "When thou sentest me to the house, I found that the wall of the saloon had given way and the whole of it had fallen in upon my mistress and her children." "And did not thy mistress escape?" "No, by Allah, O my master!" answered I. "Not one of them was saved, and the first to die was my mistress, thine elder daughter." "Did not my younger daughter escape?" asked he. "No," replied I; and he said, "What became of the mule I use to ride? Was she saved?" "No, by Allah," answered I; "the walls of the house and of the stable fell in on all that were in the dwelling, even to the sheep and geese and fowls, so that they all became a heap of flesh and the dogs ate them: not one of them is saved." "Not even thy master, my elder son?" asked he. "No, by Allah!" repeated I. "Not one of them was saved, and now there remains neither house nor inhabitants nor any trace of them: and as for the sheep and geese and fowls, the dogs and cats have eaten them." When my master heard this, the light in his eyes became darkness and he lost command of his senses and his reason, so that he could not stand upon his feet, for he was as one taken with the rickets and his back was broken. Then he rent his clothes and plucked out his beard and casting his turban from his head, buffeted his face, till the blood streamed down, crying out, "Alas, my children! Alas, my wife! Alas, what a misfortune! To whom did there ever happen the like of what hath befallen me?" The other merchants, his companions, joined in his tears and lamentations and rent their clothes, being moved to pity of his case; and my master went out of the garden' buffeting his face and staggering like a drunken man, for stress of what had befallen him and the much beating he had given his face. As he came forth of the garden-gate, followed by the other merchants, behold, they saw a great cloud of dust and heard a great noise of crying and lamentation. They looked, and behold, it was the chief of the police with his officers and the townspeople who had come out to look on, and my master's family in front of them, weeping sore and shrieking and lamenting. The first to accost my master were his wife and children; and when he saw them, he was confounded and laughed and said to them, "How is it with you all and what befell you in the house?" When they saw him, they exclaimed, "Praised be God for thy safety!" and threw themselves upon him, and his children clung to him, crying, "Alas, our father! Praised be God for thy preservation, O our father!" Then said his wife, "Thou art well, praised be God who hath shown us thy face in safety!" And indeed she was confounded and her reason fled, when she saw him, and she said, "O my lord, how did you escape, thou and thy friends the merchants?" "And how fared it with thee in the house?" asked he. "We were all in good health and case," answered they; "nor has aught befallen us in the house, save that thy slave Kafour came to us, bareheaded, with his clothes torn and crying out, 'Alas, my master! Alas, my master!' So we asked what was the matter, and he said, 'The wall of the garden has fallen on my master and his friends, and they are all dead.'" "By Allah," said my master, "he came to me but now, crying out, 'Alas, my mistress! Alas, her children!' and said, 'My mistress and her children are all dead.'" Then he looked round and seeing me with my torn turban hanging down my neck, shrieking and weeping violently and strewing earth on my head, cried out at me. So I came to him and he said, "Woe to thee, O pestilent slave, O whore-son knave, O accurst of race! What mischiefs hast thou wrought! But I will strip thy skin from thy flesh and cut thy flesh off thy bones!" "By Allah," replied I, "thou canst do nothing with me, for thou boughtest me with my fault, with witnesses to testify against thee that thou didst so and that thou knewest of my fault, which is that I tell one lie every year. This is but half a lie, but by the end of the year, I will tell the other half, and it will then be a whole lie." "O dog, son of a dog," exclaimed my master, "O most accursed of slaves, is this but a half lie? Indeed, it is a great calamity! Go out from me; thou art free before God!" "By Allah," rejoined I, "if thou free me, I will not free thee, till I have completed my year and told the other half lie. When that is done, take me down to the market and sell me, as thou boughtest me, to whosoever will buy me with my fault: but free me not, for I have no handicraft to get my living by: and this my demand is according to the law, as laid down by the doctors in the chapter of Manumission." Whilst we were talking, up came the people of the quarter and others, men and women, together with the chief of the police and his suite. So my master and the other merchants went up to him and told him the story and how this was but half a lie, at which the people wondered and deemed the lie an enormous one. And they cursed me and reviled me, whilst I stood laughing and saying, "How can my master kill me, when he bought me with this fault?" Then my master returned home and found his house in ruins, and it was I who had laid waste the most part of it, having destroyed things worth much money, as had also done his wife, who said to him, "It was Kafour who broke the vessels and the china." Thereupon his rage redoubled and he beat hand upon hand, exclaiming, "By Allah, never in my life did I see such a son of shame as this slave; and he says this is only half a lie! How if he had told a whole one? He would have laid waste a city or two!" Then in his rage he went to the chief of the police, who made me eat stick till I fainted: and whilst I was yet senseless, they fetched a barber, who gelded me and cauterized the parts. When I revived, I found myself an eunuch, and my master said to me, "Even as thou hast made my heart bleed for the most precious things I had, so will I grieve thy heart for that of thy members by which thou settest most store." Then he took me and sold me at a profit, for that I was become an eunuch, and I ceased not to make trouble, wherever I came, and was shifted from Amir to Amir and notable to notable, being bought and sold, till I entered the palace of the Commander of the Faithful, and now my spirit is broken and I have abjured my tricks, having lost my manhood.'

When the others heard his story, they laughed and said, 'Verily, thou art dung, the son of dung! Thou liedst most abominably!' Then said they to the third slave, 'Tell us thy story.' 'O my cousins,' replied he, 'all that ye have said is idle: I will tell you how I came to lose my cullions, and indeed, I deserved more than this, for I swived my mistress and my master's son: but my story is a long one and this is no time to tell it, for the dawn is near, and if the day surprise us with this chest yet unburied, we shall be blown upon and lose our lives. So let us fall to work at once, and when we get back to the palace, I will tell you my story and how I became an eunuch.' So they set down the lantern and dug a hole between four tombs, the length and breadth of the chest, Kafour plying the spade and Sewab clearing away the earth by basketsful, till they had reached a depth of half a fathom, when they laid the chest in the hole and threw back the earth over it: then went out and shutting the door, disappeared from Ghanim's sight. When he was sure that they were indeed gone and that he was alone in the place, his heart was concerned to know what was in the chest and he said to himself; 'I wonder what was in the chest!' However, he waited till break of day, when he came down from the palm-tree and scraped away the earth with his hands, till he laid bare the chest and lifted it out of the hole. Then he took a large stone and hammered at the lock, till he broke it and raising the cover, beheld a beautiful young lady, richly dressed and decked with jewels of gold and necklaces of precious stones, worth a kingdom, no money could pay their price. She was asleep and her breath rose and fell, as if she had been drugged. When Ghanim saw her, he knew that some one had plotted against her and drugged her; so he pulled her out of the chest and laid her on the ground on her back. As soon as she scented the breeze and the air entered her nostrils and lungs, she sneezed and choked and coughed, when there fell from her mouth a pastille of Cretan henbane, enough to make an elephant sleep from night to night, if he but smelt it. Then she opened her eyes and looking round, exclaimed in a sweet and melodious voice, 'Out on thee, O breeze! There is in thee neither drink for the thirsty nor solace for him whose thirst is quenched! Where is Zehr el Bustan?' But no one answered her; so she turned and cried out, 'Ho, Sebiheh, Shejeret ed Durr, Nour el Huda, Nejmet es Subh, Shehweh, Nuzheh, Hulweh, Zerifeh![FN#117] Out on ye, speak!' But no one answered her; and she looked about her and said, 'Woe is me! they have buried me among the tombs! O Thou who knowest what is in the breasts and who wilt requite at the Day of Resurrection, who hath brought me out from among the screens and curtains of the harem and laid me between four tombs?' All this while Ghanim was standing by: then he said to her, 'O my lady, here are neither screens nor curtains nor palaces; only thy bond slave Ghanim ben Eyoub, whom He who knoweth the hidden things hath brought hither, that he night save thee from these perils and accomplish for thee all that thou desirest.' And he was silent. When she saw how the case stood, she exclaimed, 'I testify that there is no god but God and that Mohammed is the Apostle of God!' Then she put her hands to her face and turning to Ghanim, said in a sweet voice, 'O blessed youth, who brought me hither! See, I am now come to myself.' 'O my lady,' replied he, 'three black eunuchs came hither, bearing this chest;' and told her all that had happened and how his being belated had proved the means of her preservation from death by suffocation. Then he asked her who she was and what was her story. 'O youth,' said she, 'praised be God who hath thrown me into the hands of the like of thee! But now put me back into the chest and go out into the road and hire the first muleteer or horse-letter thou meetest, to carry it to thy house. When I am there, all will be well and I will tell thee my story and who am I, and good shall betide thee on my account.' At this he rejoiced and went out into the road. It was now broad day and the folk began to go about the ways: so he hired a muleteer and bringing him to the tomb, lifted up the chest, in which he had already replaced the young lady, and set it on the mule. Then he fared homeward, rejoicing, for that she was a damsel worth ten thousand dinars and adorned with jewels and apparel of great value, and love for her had fallen on his heart. As soon as he came to the house, he carried in the chest and opening it, took out the young lady, who looked about her, and seeing that the place was handsome, spread with carpets and decked with gay colours, and noting the stuffs tied up and the bales of goods and what not, knew that he was a considerable merchant and a man of wealth. So she uncovered her face and looking at him, saw that he was a handsome young man and loved him. Then said she to him, 'O my lord, bring us something to eat.' 'On my head and eyes,' replied he, and going to the market, bought a roasted lamb, a dish of sweetmeats, dried fruits and wax candles, besides wine and drinking gear and perfumes. With these he returned to the house, and when the damsel saw him, she laughed and kissed and embraced him. Then she fell to caressing him, so that love for her redoubled on him and got the mastery of his heart. They ate and drank, each in love with the other, for indeed they were alike in age and beauty, till nightfall, when Ghanim rose and lit the lamps and candles, till the place blazed with light; after which he brought the wine-service and set on the banquet. Then they sat down again and began to fill and give each other to drink; and they toyed and laughed and recited verses, whilst joy grew on them and each was engrossed with love of the other, glory be to Him, who uniteth hearts! They ceased not to carouse thus till near upon daybreak, when drowsiness overcame them and they slept where they were till the morning. Then Ghanim arose and going to the market, bought all that they required in the way of meat and drink and vegetables and what not, with which he returned to the house; and they both sat down and ate till they were satisfied, when he set on wine. They drank and toyed with each other, till their cheeks flushed and their eyes sparkled and Ghanim's soul yearned to kiss the girl and lie with her. So he said to her, 'O my lady, grant me a kiss of thy mouth; maybe it will quench the fire of my heart.' 'O Ghanim,' replied she, 'wait till I am drunk: then steal a kiss from me, so that I may not know thou hast kissed me.' Then she rose and taking off her upper clothes, sat in a shift of fine linen and a silken kerchief. At this, desire stirred in Ghanim and he said to her, 'O my mistress, wilt thou not vouchsafe me what I asked of thee!' 'By Allah,' replied she, 'this may not be, for there is a stubborn saying written on the ribbon of my trousers.' Thereupon Ghanim's heart sank and passion grew on him the more that what he sought was hard to get; and he recited the following verses:

I sought of her who caused my pain A kiss to ease me of my woe.
"No, no!" she answered; "hope it not!" And I, "Yes, yes! It shall
     be so!"
Then said she, smiling, "Take it then, With my consent, before I
     know."
And I, "By force!" "Not so," said she: "I freely it on thee
     bestow."
So do not question what befell, But seek God's grace and ask no
     mo;
Think what thou wilt of us; for love Is with suspect made sweet,
     I trow.
Nor do I reck if, after this, Avowed or secret be the foe.

Then love increased on him, and the fires were loosed in his heart, while she defended herself from him, saying, 'I can never be thine.' They ceased not to make love and carouse, whilst Ghanim was drowned in the sea of passion and distraction and she redoubled in cruelty and coyness, till the night brought in the darkness and let fall on them the skirts of sleep, when Ghanim rose and lit the lamps and candles and renewed the banquet and the flowers; then took her feet and kissed them, and finding them like fresh cream, pressed his face on them and said to her, 'O my lady, have pity on the captive of thy love and the slain of thine eyes; for indeed I were whole of heart but for thee!' And he wept awhile. 'O my lord and light of my eyes,' replied she, 'by Allah, I love thee and trust in thee, but I know that I cannot be thine.' 'And what is there to hinder?' asked he. Quoth she, 'Tonight, I will tell thee my story, that thou mayst accept my excuse.' Then she threw herself upon him and twining her arms about his neck, kissed him and wheedled him, promising him her favours; and they continued to toy and laugh till love got complete possession of them. They abode thus for a whole month, sleeping nightly on one couch, but whenever he sought to enjoy her, she put him off, whilst mutual love increased upon them, till they could hardly abstain from one another. One night as they lay, side by side, both heated with wine, he put his hand to her breast and stroked it, then passed it down over her stomach to her navel. She awoke and sitting up, put her hand to her trousers and finding them fast, fell asleep again. Presently, he put out his hand a second time and stroked her and sliding down to the ribbon of her trousers, began to pull at it, whereupon she awoke and sat up. Ghanim also sat up beside her and she said to him, 'What dost thou want?' 'I want to lie with thee,' answered he, 'and that we may deal frankly one with the other.' Quoth she, 'I must now expound my case to thee, that thou mayst know my condition and my secret and that my excuse may be manifest to thee.' 'It is well,' replied he. Then she opened the skirt of her shift, and taking up the ribbon of her trousers, said to him, 'O my lord, read what is on this ribbon.' So he took it and saw, wrought in letters of gold, the following words, 'I am thine, and thou art mine, O descendant of the Prophet's Uncle!' When he read this, he dropped his hand and said to her, 'Tell me who thou art.' 'It is well,' answered she; 'know that I am one of the favourites of the Commander of the Faithful and my name is Cout el Culoub. I was reared in his palace, and when I grew up, he looked on me, and noting my qualities and the beauty and grace that God had bestowed on me, conceived a great love for me; so he took me and assigned me a separate lodging and gave me ten female slaves to wait on me and all this jewellery thou seest on me. One day he went on a journey to one of his provinces and the Lady Zubeideh came to one of my waiting-women and said to her, "I have somewhat to ask of thee." "What is it, O my lady?" asked she. "When thy mistress Cout el Culoub is asleep," said Zubeideh, "put this piece of henbane up her nostrils or in her drink, and thou shalt have of me as much money as will content thee." "With all my heart," replied the woman, and took the henbane, being glad because of the money and because she had aforetime been in Zubeideh's service. So she put the henbane in my drink, and when it was night, I drank, and the drug had no sooner reached my stomach than I fell to the ground, with my head touching my feet, and knew not but that I was in another world. When Zubeideh saw that her plot had succeeded, she put me in this chest and summoning the slaves, bribed them and the doorkeepers, and sent the former to do with me as thou sawest. So my delivery was at thy hands, and thou broughtest me hither and hast used me with the utmost kindness. This is my story, and I know not what is come of the Khalif in my absence. Know then my condition, and divulge not my affair.' When Ghanim heard her words and knew that she was the favourite of the Commander of the Faithful, he drew back, being smitten with fear of the Khalif, and sat apart from her in one of the corners of the place, blaming himself and brooding over his case and schooling his heart to patience, bewildered for love of one who might not be his. Then he wept, for excess of longing, and bemoaned the injustice and hostility of Fortune (Glory be to Him who occupies hearts with love!) reciting the following verses:

The heart of the lover's racked with weariness and care, For his
     reason ravished is for one who is passing fair.
It was asked me, "What is the taste of love?" I answer made,
     "Love is sweet water, wherein are torment and despair."

Thereupon Cout el Culoub arose and pressed him to her bosom and kissed him, for love of him mastered her heart, so that she discovered to him her secret and the passion that possessed her and throwing her arms about his neck, embraced him; but he held off from her, for fear of the Khalif. Then they talked awhile (and indeed they were both drowned in the sea of mutual love) till day, when Ghanim rose and going to the market as usual, took what was needful and returned home. He found her in tears; but when she saw him, she ceased weeping and smiled and said, 'Thou hast made me desolate, O beloved of my heart! By Allah, the hour that thou hast been absent from me has been to me as a year! I have let thee see how it is with me for the excess of my passion for thee; so come now, leave what has been and take thy will of me.' 'God forbid that this should be!' replied he. 'How shall the dog sit in the lion's place? Verily, that which is the master's is forbidden to the slave.' And he withdrew from her and sat down on a corner of the mat. Her passion increased with his refusal; so she sat down beside him and caroused and sported with him, till they were both warm with wine, and she was mad for dishonour with him. Then she sang the following verses:

The heart of the slave of passion is all but broken in twain: How
     long shall this rigour last and this coldness of disdain?
O thou that turnest away from me, in default of sin, Rather to
     turn towards than away should gazelles be fain!
Aversion and distance eternal and rigour and disdain; How can
     youthful lover these hardships all sustain?

Thereupon Ghanim wept and she wept because he did, and they ceased not to drink till nightfall, when he rose and spread two beds, each in its place. 'For whom is the second bed?' asked she. 'One is for me and the other for thee,' answered he. 'Henceforth we must lie apart, for that which is the master's is forbidden to the slave.' 'O my lord,' exclaimed she, 'let us leave this, for all things happen according to fate and predestination.' But he refused, and the fire was loosed in her heart and she clung to him and said, 'By Allah, we will not sleep but together!' 'God forbid!' answered he, and he prevailed against her and lay apart till the morning, whilst love and longing and distraction redoubled on her. They abode thus three whole months, and whenever she made advances to him, he held aloof from her, saying, 'Whatever belongs to the master is forbidden to the slave.' Then, when this was prolonged upon her and affliction and anguish grew on her, for the weariness of her heart she recited the following verses:

O marvel of beauty, how long this disdain? And who hath provoked
     thee to turn from my pain?
All manner of elegance in thee is found And all fashions of
     fairness thy form doth contain.
The hearts of all mortals thou stir'st with desire And on
     everyone's lids thou mak'st sleeplessness reign.
I know that the branch has been plucked before thee; So, O
     capparis-branch, thou dost wrong, it is plain.
I used erst to capture myself the wild deer. How comes it the
     chase doth the hunter enchain?
But the strangest of all that is told of thee is, I was snared,
     and thou heard'st not the voice of my pain.
Yet grant not my prayer. If I'm jealous for thee Of thyself how
     much more of myself? Nor again,
As long as life lasteth in me, will I say, "O marvel of beauty,
     how long this disdain?"'

Meanwhile, the Lady Zubeideh, when, in the absence of the Khalif, she had done this thing with Cout el Culoub, abode perplexed and said to herself, 'What answer shall I make the Khalif, when he comes back and asks for her?' Then she called an old woman, who was with her, and discovered her secret to her, saying, 'What shall I do, seeing that Cout el Culoub is no more?' 'O my lady,' replied the old woman, 'the time of the Khalif's return is at hand; but do thou send for a carpenter and bid him make a figure of wood in the shape of a corpse. We will dig a grave for it and bury it in the middle of the palace: then do thou build an oratory over it and set therein lighted lamps and candles and command all in the palace to put on mourning. Moreover, do thou bid thy slave-girls and eunuchs, as soon as they know of the Khalif's approach, spread straw in the vestibules, and when the Khalif enters and asks what is the matter, let them say, "Cout el Culoub is dead, may God abundantly replace her to thee! and for the honour in which she was held of our mistress, she hath buried her in her own palace." When the Khalif hears this, it will be grievous to him and he will weep: then will he cause recitations of the Koran to be made over her and will watch by night over her tomb. If he should say to himself, "My cousin Zubeideh has compassed the death of Cout el Culoub out of jealousy," or if love-longing should master him and he order to take her forth of the tomb, fear thou not; for when they dig and come to the figure, he will see it as it were a human body, shrouded in costly grave-clothes; and if he desire to take off the swathings, do thou forbid him and say to him, "It is unlawful to look upon her nakedness." The fear of the world to come will restrain him and he will believe that she is dead and will cause the image to be restored to its place and thank thee for what thou hast done: and so, if it please God, thou shalt be delivered from this strait.' Her advice commended itself to Zubeideh, who bestowed on her a dress of honour and a sum of money, bidding her do as she had said. So she at once ordered a carpenter to make the aforesaid figure, and as soon as it was finished, she brought it to Zubeideh, who shrouded it and buried it and built a pavilion over it, in which she set lighted lamps and candles and spread carpets round the tomb. Moreover, she put on black and ordered her household to do the same, and the news was spread abroad in the palace that Cout el Culoub was dead. After awhile, the Khalif returned from his journey and entered the palace, thinking only of Cout el Culoub. He saw all the pages and damsels and eunuchs in mourning, at which his heart quaked; and when he went in to the Lady Zubeideh, he found her also clad in black. So he asked the cause of this and was told that Cout el Culoub was dead, whereupon he fell down in a swoon. As soon as he came to himself, he enquired of her tomb, and Zubeideh said to him, 'Know, O Commander of the Faithful, that for the honour in which I held her, I have buried her in my own palace.' Then he repaired to her tomb, in his travelling dress, and found the place spread with carpets and lit with lamps. When he saw this, he thanked Zubeldeh for what she had done and abode perplexed, halting between belief and distrust, till at last suspicion got the better of him and he ordered the grave to be opened and the body exhumed. When he saw the figure and would have taken off the swathings to look upon the body, the fear of God the Most High restrained him, and the old woman (taking advantage of his hesitation) said, 'Restore her to her place.' Then he sent at once for readers and doctors of the Law and caused recitations of the Koran to be made over her grave and sat by it, weeping, till he lost his senses. He continued to frequent the tomb for a whole month, at the end of which time, he chanced one day, after the Divan had broken up and his Amirs and Viziers had gone away to their houses, to enter the harem, where he laid down and slept awhile, whilst one damsel sat at his head, fanning him, and another at his feet, rubbing them. Presently he awoke and opening his eyes, shut them again and heard the damsel at his head say to her at his feet, 'Hist, Kheizuran!' 'Well, Kezib el Ban?' answered the other. 'Verily,' said the first, 'our lord knows not what has passed and watches over a tomb in which there is only a carved wooden figure, of the carpenter's handiwork.' 'Then what is become of Cout el Culoub?' enquired the other. 'Know,' replied Kezib el Ban. 'that the Lady Zubeideh bribed one of her waiting-women to drug her with henbane and laying her in a chest, commanded Sewab and Kafour to take it and bury it among the tombs.' Quoth Kheizuran, 'And is not the lady Cout el Culoub dead?' 'No,' replied the other; 'God preserve her youth from death! but I have heard the Lady Zubeideh say that she is with a young merchant of Damascus, by name Ghanim ben Eyoub, and has been with him these four months, whilst this our lord is weeping and watching anights over an empty tomb.' When the Khalif heard the girls' talk and knew that the tomb was a trick and a fraud and that Cout el Culoub had been with Ghanim ben Eyoub for four months, he was sore enraged and rising up, summoned his officers of state, whereupon the Vizier Jaafer the Barmecide came up and kissed the earth before him, and the Khalif said to him, 'O Jaafer, take a company of men with thee and fall upon the house of Ghanim ben Eyoub and bring him to me, with my slave-girl Cout el Culoub, for I will assuredly punish him!' 'I hear and obey,' answered Jaafer, and setting out with his guards and the chief of the police, repaired to Ghanim's house. Now the latter had brought home a pot of meat and was about to put forth his hand to eat of it, he and Cout d Culoub, when the damsel, happening to look out, found the house beset on all sides by the Vizier and the chief of the police and their officers and attendants, with drawn swords in their hands, encompassing the place, as the white of the eye encompasses the black. At this sight, she knew that news of her had reached the Khalif, her master, and made sure of ruin, and her colour paled and her beauty changed. Then she turned to Ghanim and said to him, 'O my love, fly for thy life!' 'What shall I do?' said he; 'and whither shall I go, seeing that my substance and fortune are in this house?' 'Delay not,' answered she, 'lest thou lose both life and goods.' 'O my beloved and light of my eyes,' rejoined he, 'how shall I do to get away, when they have surrounded the house?' 'Fear not,' said she: and taking off his clothes, made him put on old and ragged ones, after which she took the empty pot and put in it a piece of bread and a saucer of meat, and placing the whole in a basket, set it on his head and said, 'Go out in this guise and fear not for me, for I know how to deal with the Khalif.' So he went out amongst them, carrying the basket and its contents, and God covered him with His protection and he escaped the snares and perils that beset him, thanks to the purity of his intent. Meanwhile, Jaafer alighted and entering the house, saw Cout el Culoub, who had dressed and decked herself after the richest fashion and filled a chest with gold and jewellery and precious stones and rarities and what else was light of carriage and great of value. When she saw Jaafer, she rose and kissing the earth before him, said, 'O my lord, the pen[FN#118] hath written from of old that which God hath decreed.' 'By Allah, O my lady,' rejoined Jaafer, 'I am commanded to seize Ghanim ben Eyoub.' 'O my lord,' replied she, 'he made ready merchandise and set out therewith for Damascus and I know nothing more of him; but I desire thee to take charge of this chest and deliver it to me in the palace of the Commander of the Faithful.' 'I hear and obey,' said Jaafer, and bade his men carry the chest to the palace, together with Cout el Culoub, commanding them to use her with honour and consideration. And they did his bidding, after they had plundered Ghanim's house. Then Jaafer went in to the Khalif and told him what had happened, and he bade lodge Cout el Culoub in a dark chamber and appointed an old woman to serve her, thinking no otherwise than that Ghanim had certainly debauched her and lain with her. Then he wrote a letter to the Amir Mohammed ben Suleiman ez Zeini, the viceroy of Damascus, to the following purport, 'As soon as this letter reaches thee, lay hands on Ghanim ben Eyoub and send him to me.' When the letter came to the viceroy, he kissed it and laid it on his head, then caused proclamation to be made in the streets of Damascus, 'Whoso is minded to plunder, let him betake himself to the house of Ghanim ben Eyoub!' So they repaired to the house, where they found that Ghanim's mother and sister had made him a tomb midmost the house and sat by it, weeping for him, whereupon they seized them, without telling them the cause, and carried them before the Sultan, after having plundered the house. The viceroy questioned them of Ghanim, and they replied, 'This year or more we have had no news of him.' So they restored them to their place.

Meanwhile Ghanim, finding himself despoiled of his wealth and considering his case, wept till his heart was well-nigh broken. Then he fared on at random, till the end of the day, and hunger was sore on him and he was worn out with fatigue. Coming to a village, he entered a mosque, where he sat down on a mat, leaning his back against the wall, and presently sank to the ground, in extremity for hunger and weariness, and lay there till morning, his heart fluttering for want of food. By reason of his sweating, vermin coursed over his skin, his breath grew fetid and he became in sorry case. When the people of the town came to pray the morning-prayer, they found him lying there, sick and weak with hunger, yet showing signs of gentle breeding. As soon as they had done their devotions, they came up to him and finding him cold and starving, threw over him an old mantle with ragged sleeves and said to him, 'O stranger, whence art thou and what ails thee?' He opened his eyes and wept, but made them no answer; whereupon, one of them, seeing that he was starving, brought him a saucerful of honey and two cakes of bread. So he ate a little and they sat with him till sunrise, when they went about their occupations. He abode with them in this state for a month, whilst sickness and infirmity increased upon him, and they wept for him and pitying his condition, took counsel together of his case and agreed to send him to the hospital at Baghdad. Meanwhile, there came into the mosque two beggar women, who were none other than Ghanim's mother and sister; and when he saw them, he gave them the bread that was at his head and they slept by his side that night, but he knew them not. Next day the villagers fetched a camel and said to the driver, 'Put this sick man on thy camel and carry him to Baghdad and set him down at the door of the hospital, so haply he may be medicined and recover his health, and God will reward thee.' 'I hear and obey,' said the camel-driver. So they brought Ghanim, who was asleep, out of the mosque and laid him, mat and all, on the back of the camel; and his mother and sister came out with the rest of the people to look on him, but knew him not. However, after considering him, they said, 'Verily, he favours our Ghanim! Can this sick man be he?' Presently, he awoke and finding himself bound with ropes on the back of a camel, began to weep and complain, and the people of the village saw his mother and sister weeping over him, though they knew him not. Then they set out for Baghdad, whither the camel-driver forewent them and setting Ghanim down at the door of the hospital, went away. He lay there till morning, and when the people began to go about the ways, they saw him and stood gazing on him, for indeed he was become as thin as a skewer, till the syndic of the market came up and drove them away, saying, 'I will gain Paradise through this poor fellow; for if they take him into the hospital, they will kill him in one day.' Then he made his servants carry him to his own house, where he spread him a new bed, with a new pillow, and said to his wife, 'Tend him faithfully.' 'Good,' answered she; 'on my head be it!' Then she tucked up her sleeves and heating some water, washed his hands and feet and body, after which she clothed him in a gown belonging to one of her slave-girls and gave him a cup of wine to drink and sprinkled rose-water over him. So he revived and moaned, as he thought of his beloved Cout el Culoub! and sorrows were sore upon him.

Meanwhile, Cout el Culoub abode in duresse fourscore days, at the end of which time, the Khalif chancing one day to pass the place in which she was, heard her repeating verses and saying, 'O my beloved, O Ghanim, how great is thy goodness and how chaste is thy nature! Thou didst good to him who hath injured thee, thou guardedst his honour who hath violated thine, and didst protect the harem of him who hath despoiled thee and thine! But thou wilt surely stand, with the Commander of the Faithful, before the Just Judge and be justified of him on the day when the judge shall be the Lord of all (to whom belong might and majesty) and the witnesses the angels!' When the Khalif heard her complaint, he knew that she had been wrongfully entreated and returning to his palace sent Mesrour the eunuch for her. She came before him, with bowed head, tearful-eyed and mournful-hearted, and he said to her, 'O Cout el Culoub, I find thou taxest me with injustice and tyranny and avouchest that I have wronged him who did me good. Who is this that hath guarded my honour and whose honour I have violated, and who hath protected my harem, whilst I have enslaved his?' 'Ghanim ben Eyoub,' replied she; 'for by thy munificence, O Commander of the Faithful, he never approached me by way of lewdness nor with evil intent!' Then said the Khalif, 'There is no power and no virtue but in God! Ask what thou wilt of me, O Cout el Culoub, and it shall be granted to thee.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' said she, 'I ask of thee my beloved Ghanim ben Eyoub.' The Khalif granted her prayer, and she said, 'O Commander of the Faithful, if I bring him to thee, wilt thou bestow me on him?' 'If he come,' replied the Khalif, 'I will bestow thee on him, the gift of a generous man who does not go back on his giving.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' said she, 'suffer me to go in quest of him: it may be God will unite me with him.' 'Do what seemeth good to thee,' answered he. So she rejoiced and taking with her a thousand dinars, went out and visited the elders of the various religious orders and gave alms for Ghanim's sake. Next day she went to the merchants' bazaar and told the chief of the market what she sought and gave him money, saying, 'Bestow this in alms on strangers.' The following week she took other thousand dinars and going to the market of the goldsmiths and jewellers, called the syndic and gave him the money, saying, 'Bestow this in alms on strangers.' The syndic, who was none other than Ghanim's benefactor, looked at her and said, 'O my lady, wilt thou go to my house and look upon a strange youth I have there and see how goodly and elegant he is?' (Now this stranger was Ghanim, but the syndic had no knowledge of him and thought him to be some unfortunate debtor, who had been despoiled of his property, or a lover parted from his beloved.) When she heard his words, her heart fluttered and her bowels yearned, and she said to him, 'Send with me some one who shall bring me to thy house.' So he sent a little boy, who led her thither and she thanked him for this. When she reached the house, she went in and saluted the syndic's wife, who rose and kissed the ground before her, knowing her. Then said Cout el Culoub, 'Where is the sick man who is with thee?' 'O my lady,' replied she, weeping, 'here he is, lying on this bed. By Allah, he is a man of condition and bears traces of gentle breeding!' So Cout el Culoub turned and looked at him, but he was as if disguised in her eyes, being worn and wasted till he was become as thin as a skewer, so that his case was doubtful to her and she was not certain that it was he. Nevertheless, she was moved to compassion for him and wept, saying, 'Verily, strangers are unhappy, though they be princes in their own land!' And his case was grievous to her and her heart ached for him, though she knew him not to be Ghanim. Then she appointed him wine and medicines and sat by his head awhile, after which she mounted and returned to her palace and continued to make the round of the bazaars in search of Ghanim.

Meanwhile Ghanim's mother and sister arrived at Baghdad and fell in with the charitable syndic, who carried them to Cout el Culoub and said to her, 'O princess of benevolent ladies, there be come to our city this day a woman and her daughter, who are fair of face and the marks of gentle breeding and fortune are manifest upon them, though they are clad in hair garments and have each a wallet hanging to her neck; and they are tearful-eyed and sorrowful-hearted. So I have brought them to thee, that thou mayest shelter them and rescue them from beggary, for they are not fit to ask alms, and if God will, we shall enter Paradise through them.' 'O my lord,' exclaimed she, 'thou makest me long to see them! Where are they? Bring them to me.' So he bade the eunuch bring them in; and when she looked on them and saw that they were both possessed of beauty, she wept for them and said, 'By Allah, they are people of condition and show signs of former fortune.' 'O my lady,' said the syndic's wife, 'we love the poor and destitute, because of the recompense that God hath promised to such as succour them: as for these, belike the oppressors have done them violence and robbed them of their fortune and laid waste their dwelling-place.' Then Ghanim's mother and sister wept sore, recalling their former prosperity and contrasting it with their present destitute and miserable condition and thinking of Ghanim, whilst Cout el Culoub wept because they did. And they exclaimed, 'We beseech God to reunite us with him whom we desire, and he is none other than our son Ghanim ben Eyoub!' When Cout el Culoub heard this, she knew them to be the mother and sister of her beloved and wept till she lost her senses. When she revived, she turned to them and said, 'Have no care and grieve not, for this day is the first of your prosperity and the last of your adversity.' Then she bade the syndic take them to his own house and let his wife carry them to the bath and clothe them handsomely. And she charged him to take care of them and treat them with all honour, and gave him a sum of money. Next day, she mounted and riding to his house, went in to his wife, who rose and kissed her hands and thanked her for her goodness. There she saw Ghanim's mother and sister, whom the syndic's wife had taken to the bath and clothed afresh, so that the traces of their former condition were now plainly apparent. She sat awhile, conversing with them, after which she enquired for the sick youth, and the syndic's wife replied, 'He is in the same state.' Then said Cout el Culoub, 'Come, let us go and visit him.' So they all went into the room where he lay and sat down by him. Presently, Ghanim heard them mention the name of Cout el Culoub, whereupon his life came back to him, wasted and shrunken as he was, and he raised his head from the pillow and cried out, 'O Cout el Culoub!' 'Yes, O friend!' answered she. 'Draw near to me,' said he. So she looked at him earnestly and knew him and said to him, 'Surely thou art Ghanim ben Eyoub?' 'I am indeed he,' replied he. At this, she fell down in a swoon, and when Ghanim's mother and sister heard their words, they both cried out, 'O joy!' and swooned away. When they recovered, Cout el Culoub exclaimed, 'Praised be God who hath brought us together again and hath reunited thee with thy mother and sister!' Then she told him all that had befallen her with the Khalif and said, 'I have made known the truth to the Commander of the Faithful, who believed me and approved of thee; and now he wishes to see thee.' Then she told him how the Khalif had bestowed her on him, at which he was beyond measure rejoiced, and she returned to the palace at once, charging them not to stir till she came back. There she opened the chest that she had brought from Ghanim's house, and taking out some of the money, carried it to the syndic and bade him buy them each four suits of the best stuffs and twenty handkerchiefs and what else they needed; after which she carried them all three to the bath and commanded to wash them and made ready for them broths and galingale and apple-water against their coming out. When they left the bath, they put on new clothes, and she abode with them three days, feeding them with fowls and broths and sherbet of sugar-candy, till their strength returned to them. After this, she carried them to the bath a second time, and when they came out and had changed their clothes, she took them back to the syndic's house and left them there, whilst she returned to the palace and craving an audience of the Khalif, told him the whole story and how her lord Ghanim and his mother and sister were now in Baghdad. When the Khalif heard this, he turned to his attendants and said, 'Bring hither to me Ghanim.' So Jaafer went to fetch him: but Cout el Culoub forewent him to the syndic's house and told Ghanim that the Khalif had sent for him and enjoined him to eloquence and self-possession and pleasant speech. Then she clad him in a rich habit and gave him much money, bidding him be lavish of largesse to the household of the Khalif, when he went in to him. Presently, Jaafer arrived, riding on his Nubian mule, and Ghanim met him and kissed the ground before him, wishing him long life. Now was the star of his good fortune risen and shone, and Jaafer took him and brought him to the Khalif. When he entered, he looked at the viziers and amirs and chamberlains and deputies and grandees and captains, Turks and Medes and Arabs and Persians, and then at the Khalif. Then he made sweet his speech and his eloquence and bowing his head, spoke the following verses:

Long life unto a King, the greatest of the great, Still following
     on good works and bounties without date!
Glowering with high resolves, a fountain of largesse, For ever
     full; 'tis said, of fire and flood and fate,
That they none else would have for monarch of the world, For
     sovran of the time and King in Kisra's gate.[FN#119]
Kings, salutation-wise, upon his threshold's earth, For his
     acceptance lay the jewels of their state;
And when their eyes behold the glory of his might, Upon the
     earth, in awe, themselves they do prostrate.
This humbleness it is that profits them with thee And wins them
     wealth and power and rank and high estate.
Upon old Saturn's heights pitch thy pavilion, Since for thy
     countless hosts the world is grown too strait,
And teach the stars to know thine own magnificence, In kindness
     to the prince who rules the starry state.
May God with His consent for ever favour thee! For steadfastness
     of soul and sense upon thee wait:
Thy justice overspreads the surface of the earth, Till far and
     near for it their difference abate.

The Khalif was charmed with his eloquence and the sweetness of his speech and said to him, 'Draw near to me.' So he drew near and the Khalif said, 'Tell me thy story and expound to me thy case.' So Ghanim sat down and related to him all that had befallen him, from beginning to end. The Khalif was assured that he spoke the truth; so he invested him with a dress of honour and took him into favour. Then he said to him, 'Acquit me of the wrong I have done thee.' And Ghanim did so, saying, 'O Commander of the Faithful, the slave and all that is his belong to his lord.' The Khalif was pleased with this and bade set apart a palace for Ghanim, on whom he bestowed great store of gifts and assigned him bountiful stipends and allowances, sending his mother and sister to live with him; after which, hearing that his sister Fitneh was indeed a seduction[FN#120] for beauty, he demanded her in marriage of Ghanim, who replied, 'She is thy handmaid and I am thy servant.' The Khalif thanked him and gave him a hundred thousand dinars; then summoned the Cadi and the witnesses, who drew up the contracts of marriage between the Khalif and Fitneh on the one hand and Ghanim and Cout el Culoub on the other; and the two marriages were consummated in one and the same night. On the morrow, the Khalif ordered the history of Ghanim to be recorded and laid up in the royal treasury, that those who came after him might read it and wonder at the dealings of destiny and put their trust in Him who created the night and the day.

End Of Vol. 1

Footnotes to Volume 1.

[FN#1] The visible and the invisible. Some authorities make it three worlds (those of men, of the angels and of the Jinn or genii), and ethers more.

[FN#2] The Arabic word for island (jezireh) signifies also "peninsula," and doubtless here used in the latter sense. The double meaning of the word should be borne in mind, as it explains many apparent discrepancies in Oriental tales.

[FN#3] A powerful species of genie. The name is generally (but not invariably) applied to an evil spirit.

[FN#4] God on thee! abbreviated form of "I conjure thee (or call on thee) by God!"

[FN#5] lit. bull

[FN#6] Epithet of the ass and the cock. The best equivalent would be the French "Père L'Eveillé."

[FN#7] i.e. stupid.

[FN#8] The Arabic word for garden (bustan) applies to any cultivated or fertile spot, abounding in trees. An European would call such a place as that mentioned in the tale an oasis.

[FN#9] in preparation for death.

[FN#10] Jinn, plural of genie.

[FN#11] A dinar (Lat. denarius) is a gold coin worth about 10s.

[FN#12] i.e. I have nothing to give thee.

[FN#13] A dirhem (Gr. drachma) is a silver coin worth about 6d.

[FN#14] Afriteh, a female Afrit. Afrit means strictly an evil spirit; but the term is not unfrequently applied to benevolent Jinn, as will appear in the course of these stories.

[FN#15] for his impatience.

[FN#16] A Marid is a genie of the most powerful class. The name generally, though not invariably, denotes an evil spirit.

[FN#17] Of Islam, which is fabled by the Muslims to have existed before Mohammed, under the headship, first of Abraham and afterwards of Solomon.

[FN#18] From this point I omit the invariable formula which introduces each night, as its constant repetition is only calculated to annoy the reader and content myself with noting the various nights in the margin. {which will not be included in this electronic version}

[FN#19] Probably the skin of some animal supposed to be a defence against poison.

[FN#20] Literally, "eyes adorned with kohl:" but this expression is evidently used tropically to denote a natural beauty of the eye, giving it that liquid appearance which it is the object of the use of the cosmetic in question to produce.

[FN#21] A fabulous tribe of giants mentioned in the Koran.

[FN#22] The word here translated "eye" may also be rendered "understanding." The exact meaning of the phrase (one of frequent recurrence in these stories) is doubtful.

[FN#23] A fabulous range of mountains which, according to Muslim cosmography, encompasses the world.

[FN#24] The prophet Mohammed.

[FN#25] Various kinds of cakes and sweetmeats.

[FN#26] The appearance of which is the signal for the commencement of the fast. All eyes being on the watch, it naturally follows that the new moon of this month is generally seen at an earlier stage than are those of the other months of the year, and its crescent is therefore apparently more slender. Hence the comparison.

[FN#27] Caravanserai or public lodging-place.

[FN#28] A kind of religious mendicant.

[FN#29] One condition of which is that no violation of the ceremonial law (which prohibits the use of intoxicating liquors) be committed by the pilgrim, from the time of his assuming the pilgrim's habit to that of his putting it off; and this is construed by the stricter professors to take effect from the actual formation of the intent to make the pilgrimage. Haroun er Reshid, though a voluptuary, was (at all events, from time to time) a rigid observer of Muslim ritual.

[FN#30] It is a frequent practice, in the East, gently to rub and knead the feet, for the purpose of inducing sleep or gradually arousing a sleeper.

[FN#31] An expression frequent in Oriental works, meaning "The situations suggested such and such words or thoughts."

[FN#32] Religious mendicants.

[FN#33] Referring, of course, to the wine, which it appears to have been customary to drink warm or boiled (vinum coctum) as among several ancient nations and in Japan and China at the present day.

[FN#34] Or chapter or formula.

[FN#35] A play upon words is here intended turning upon the double meaning ("aloes" and "patience") of the Arabic word sebr.

[FN#36] See note on p. 120. {Vol. 1, FN#35}

[FN#37] Dar es Selam.

[FN#38] A certain fixed succession of prayers and acts of adoration is called a rekah (or bow) from the inclination of the body that occurs in it. The ordained prayers, occurring five times a day, consist of a certain number of rekahs.

[FN#39] i.e. "There is no god but God", etc.

[FN#40] or sinister conjunction of the planets.

[FN#41] Menkeleh, a game played with a board and draughtmen, partaking of the character of backgammon, draughts and fox-and-geese.

[FN#42] A common Oriental substitute for soap.

[FN#43] i.e. newly dug over.

[FN#44] lit. rukh.

[FN#45] A sweet-scented, variegated wood.

[FN#46] The Arabs consider a slight division of the two middle teeth a beauty.

[FN#47] The Egyptian privet; a plant whose flowers have a very delicious fragrance.

[FN#48] A kind of mocking-bird.

[FN#49] Of providence.

[FN#50] Literally, "O my eyes!"

[FN#51] A niche in the wall, which indicates the position the worshipper must assume, in order to face Mecca, in accordance with the ritual of prayer.

[FN#52] cf. Germ. Zuckerpuppchen.

[FN#53] i.e., moles, which are considered a great beauty in the
East.

[FN#54] A female genie.

[FN#55] The unveiling or displaying of the bride before her husband is the culminating ceremony of a Muslim wedding of the better class. The bride is always displayed in the richest clothes and ornament that can be mustered or borrowed for the occasion.

[FN#56] Moles?

[FN#57] There is a play upon words in this line, founded upon the double meaning of the word shirk, sharing (or partnership) and polytheism or the attributing partners or equals to God (as in the Trinity), the one unpardonable sin of the Muslim religious code.

[FN#58] Both afterwards Khalifs.

[FN#59] i.e. God.

[FN#60] lit "though lying save, yet truth saves and saves."

[FN#61] On which she sits to be displayed.

[FN#62] Placed there for the purpose of the ablution prescribed by the ceremonial law.

[FN#63] Speaking, of course, ironically and supposing Bedreddin to be the hunchback.

[FN#64] Bedreddin.

[FN#65] Mosul is a town of Mesopotamia, some two hundred miles N.E. of Baghdad. It is celebrated for its silk and muslin manufactories. The Mosulis doubtless set the fashion in turbans to the inhabitants of Baghdad and Bassora, and it would appear from the Vizier's remark that this fashion was notably different from that followed at Cairo.

[FN#66] Eye-powder. The application of kohl to an infant's eyes is supposed to be beneficial.

[FN#67] The North wind holds the same place in Oriental metaphor and poetry as does the West wind in those of Europe.

[FN#68] Or kernel.

[FN#69] lit. puppet or lay figure.

[FN#70] Mole.

[FN#71] A well-known legist and Cadi of Cufa in the seventh century.

[FN#72] The Sun.

[FN#73] The word melik 'king,' by changing the second (unwritten) vowel to e becomes melek 'angel'.

[FN#74] A measure of about five bushels.

[FN#75] The left hand is considered unclean, being used for certain ablutions, and it is therefore a breach of good manners to use it in eating.

[FN#76] Between the two palaces.

[FN#77] Apparently said in jest.

[FN#78] i.e. do not forget me.

[FN#79] A kind of edible arum.

[FN#80] This is apparently some proverbial saying. The meaning appears to be, "Let every man be judge of his own case."

[FN#81] That none might stare at or jostle her.

[FN#82] About a hundred and twenty-five pounds.

[FN#83] About five hundred pounds.

[FN#84] i.e. of prime cost.

[FN#85] The face of a mistress.

[FN#86] It is a common Oriental figure to liken a languishing eye to a dying narcissus.

[FN#87] One of the companions of Mohammed.

[FN#88] Prater.

[FN#89] Babbler.

[FN#90] Gabbler.

[FN#91] The Stone Mug.

[FN#92] The Braggart.

[FN#93] Noisy.

[FN#94] Silent.

[FN#95] Mohammed.

[FN#96] Or attendant on the people in the bath.

[FN#97] i.e. a stoker or man who keeps up the fire in the baths.

[FN#98] A sort of sermon, which immediately follows, the noontide call to prayer on Fridays.

[FN#99] Preliminary to the call to prayer.

[FN#100] A.H. 623-640.

[FN#101] A leather rug on which they make criminals kneel to be beheaded.

[FN#102] It will be seen that the stories told by the barber do not account for the infirmities of all his brothers, as this would imply.

[FN#103] A formula of refusal.

[FN#104] lit. ladder; a sort of frame, like the triangles to which they bound criminals sentenced to be flogged.

[FN#105] Dinars; 100,000 dirhems would be only five thousand dinars and it will be seen from the sequel that El Feshar proposed to spend half that amount upon the dowry and presents to the tire-women alone.

[FN#106] i.e. try this.

[FN#107] The moon is masculine in Arabic.

[FN#108] Mohammed.

[FN#109] Or Hajji, pilgrim; title given to those who have made the pilgrimage to Mecca.

[FN#110] lit. the fundamentals are remembered.

[FN#111] i.e. chanting the ninety-nine names of God or repeating the words "There is no god but God."

[FN#112] i.e. a fair faced cup bearer.

[FN#113] Generally, the floating ends of the turban. This was for the purpose of concealment and is a common practice with the Bedouins.

[FN#114] The name Kerim means "generous."

[FN#115] Or perhaps "cancelled."

[FN#116] To simulate the customary evidence of virginity.

[FN#117] Names of her waiting women.

[FN#118] Of providence.

[FN#119] i.e. monarch of Persia, the realm of the ancient Kisras or Chosroes.

[FN#120] Fitneh.

*** END OF THE AGAPIC EBOOK THE BOOK OF THE THOUSAND NIGHTS AND ONE NIGHT, VOLUME I ***

THE HISTORY OF KING OMAR BEN ENNUMAN AND HIS SONS SHERKAN AND ZOULMEKAN.

There reigned once in the City of Peace, (Baghdad), before the Khalifate of Abdulmelik ben Merwan,[FN#1] a king called Omar ben Ennuman, who was of the mighty giants and had subdued the kings of Persia and the Emperors of the East, for none could warm himself at his fire[FN#2] nor cope with him in battle, and when he was angry, there came sparks out of his nostrils. He had gotten him the dominion over all countries, and God had subjected unto him all creatures; his commands were obeyed in all the great cities and his armies penetrated the most distant lands: the East and West came under his rule, with the regions between them, Hind and Sind and China and Hejaz and Yemen and the islands of India and China, Syria and Mesopotamia and the land of the blacks and the islands of the ocean and all the famous rivers of the earth, Jaxartes and Bactrus, Nile and Euphrates. He sent his ambassadors to the farthest parts of the earth, to fetch him true report, and they returned with tidings of justice and peace, bringing him assurance of loyalty and obedience and invocations of blessings on his head; for he was a right noble king and there came to him gifts and tribute from all parts of the world. He had a son called Sherkan, who was one of the prodigies of the age and the likest of all men to his father, who loved him with an exceeding love and had appointed him to be king after him. The prince grew up till he reached man's estate and was twenty years old, and God subjected all men to him, for he was gifted with great might and prowess in battle, humbling the champions and destroying all who made head against him. So, before long, this Sherkan became famous in all quarters of the world and his father rejoiced in him: and his might waxed, till he passed all bounds and magnified himself, taking by storm the citadels and strong places.

Now King Omar had four lawful wives, but God had vouchsafed him no son by them, except Sherkan, whom he had gotten of one of them, and the rest were barren. Moreover he had three hundred and threescore concubines, after the number of the days of the Coptic year, who were of all nations, and he had lodged them all within his palace. For he had built twelve pavilions, after the number of the months of the year, in each thirty chambers, and appointed to each of his concubines a night, which he lay with her and came not to her again for a full year. As providence would have it, one of them conceived and her pregnancy was made known, whereupon the King rejoiced with an exceeding joy, saying, "Mayhap it will be a son, in which case all my offspring will be males." Then he recorded the date of her conception and made much of her. But when the news came to Sherkan, he was troubled and it was grievous to him, for he said, "Verily, there cometh one who shall dispute the kingdom with me." So he said to himself, "If this damsel bear a male child, I will kill it." But he kept this his intent secret in his heart. Now the damsel in question was a Greek girl, by name Sufiyeh,[FN#3] whom the King of Roum,[FN#4] lord of Caesarea, had sent to King Omar as a present, together with great store of rarities. She was the fairest of face and most graceful of all his women and the most careful of his honour and was gifted with abounding wit and surpassing loveliness. She had served the King on the night of his lying with her, saying to him, "O King, I desire of the God of the heavens that He grant thee of me a male child, so I may rear him well and do my utmost endeavour to educate him and preserve him from harm." And her words pleased the King. She passed the time of her pregnancy in devout exercises, praying fervently to God to grant her a goodly male child and make his birth easy to her, till her months were accomplished and she sat down on the stool of delivery. Now the King had given an eunuch charge to let him know if the child she should bring forth were male or female; and in like manner his son Sherkan had sent one to bring him news of this. In due time, Sufiyeh was delivered of a child, which the midwives took and found to be a girl with a face more radiant than the moon. So they announced this to the bystanders, whereupon the eunuch carried the news to the King and Sherkan's messenger did the like with his master, who rejoiced with exceeding joy; but after these two had departed, Sufiyeh said to the midwives, "Wait with me awhile, for I feel there is yet somewhat in my entrails." Then she moaned and the pains of labour took her again but God made it easy to her and she gave birth to a second child. The midwives looked at it and found it a boy like the full moon, with flower-white forehead and rose-red cheeks; whereupon the damsel and her eunuchs and attendants rejoiced and she was delivered of the afterbirth, whilst all who were in the palace set up cries of joy. The other damsels heard of this and envied her; and the news came to Omar, who was glad and rejoiced. Then he rose and went to her and kissed her head, after which he looked at the boy and bending down to it, kissed it, whilst the damsels smote the tabrets and played on instruments of music; and he commanded that the boy should be named Zoulmekan and the girl Nuzbet ez Zeman, which was done accordingly. Then he appointed nurses, wet and dry, and eunuchs and attendants to serve them and assigned them rations of sugar and liquors and oil and other necessaries, such as the tongue fails to set out. Moreover the people of Baghdad heard of the children that God had vouchsafed to the King; so they decorated the city and made proclamation of the good news. Then came the amirs and viziers and grandees and wished the King joy of his son and daughter, wherefore he thanked them and bestowed dresses of honour and favours and largesse on them and on all who were present, gentle and simple. Then he bade carry great store of jewellery and apparel and money to Sufiyeh and charged her to rear the children carefully and educate them well. After this wise, four years passed by, during which time the King sent every few days to seek news of Sufiyeh and her children; but all this while, his son Sherkan knew not that a male child had been born to his father, having news only of the birth of his daughter Nuzhet ez Zeman, and they hid the thing from him, until years and days had passed by, whilst he was busied in contending with the men of war and tilting against the cavaliers.

One day, as the King was sitting on his throne, there came in to him his chamberlains, who kissed the earth before him and said, "O King, there be come ambassadors from the King of the Greeks, lord of Constantinople the mighty, and they desire to be admitted to pay their respects to thee: so if the King give them leave to enter, we will admit them, and if not, there is no appeal from his decree." He bade admit them, and when they entered, he turned to them and asked them how they did and the reason of their coming. They kissed the earth before him and replied, "O illustrious King and lord of the long arm,[FN#5] know that King Afridoun, lord of the lands of the Greeks and of the Nazarene armies, holding the empire of Constantinople, hath sent us to make known to thee that he is now waging grievous war with a fierce rebel, the lord of Caesarea; and the cause of this war is as follows. One of the kings of the Arabs, awhile since, chanced, in one of his conquests, upon a treasure of the time of Alexander, from which he carried away countless riches and amongst other things, three round jewels, of the bigness of an ostrich's egg, from a mine of pure white jewels, never was seen the like. Upon each of these jewels were graven talismans in the Greek character, and they had many properties and virtues, amongst the rest that if one of them were hung round the neck of a new-born child, no ailment would hurt him nor would he moan or be fevered, so long as it was about his neck. When they came to the hands of the Arabian King and he knew their virtues, he sent the three jewels, together with other presents and rarities, as a gift to King Afridoun, and to that end fitted out two ships, one bearing the treasure and presents and the other men to guard them against whoso should offer them hindrance on the sea, being nevertheless assured that none would dare waylay them, for that he was King of the Arabs, more by token that their way lay through the sea in the dominions of the King of Constantinople and they were bound to him, nor were there on the shores of that sea any but subjects of the most mighty King Afridoun. The ships set out and sailed till they drew near our city, when there sallied out on them certain corsairs of the country and amongst them troops of the King of Caesarea, who took all the treasures and rarities in the ships, together with the three jewels, and slew the men. When the news came to our King, he sent an army against them, but they defeated it; then he sent another army, stronger than the first, but they put this also to the rout; whereupon the King was wroth and swore that he would go out against them in person at the head of his whole army and not turn back from them, till he had left Caesarea in ruins and laid waste all the lands and cities over which its King held sway. So he craves of the lord of the age and the time, the King of Baghdad and Khorassan, that he succour us with an army, to the end that glory may redound to him; and he has sent by us somewhat of various kinds of presents and begs the King to favour him by accepting them and accord us his aid." Then they kissed the earth before King Omar and brought out the presents, which were fifty slave-girls of the choicest of the land of the Greeks, and fifty white male slaves in tunics of brocade, rich girdles of gold and silver and in their ears pendants of gold and fine pearls, worth a thousand dinars each. The damsels were adorned after the same fashion and clad in stuffs worth much money. When the King saw them, he rejoiced in them and accepted them. Then he commanded that the ambassadors should be honourably entreated and summoning his viziers, took counsel with them of what he should do. Accordingly, one of them, an old man named Dendan, arose and kissing the earth before King Omar, said, "O King, thou wouldst do well to equip numerous army and set over it thy son Sherkan, with us as his lieutenants; and to my mind it behoves thee to do thus, for two reasons: first, that the King of the Greeks hath appealed to thee for aid and hath sent thee presents, and thou hast accepted them; and secondly, that no enemy dares attack our country, and that if thy host succour the King of the Greeks and his foe be put to the rout, the glory will fall to thee and the news of it will be noised abroad in all cities and countries; and especially, when the tidings reach the islands of the ocean and the people of Western Africa, they will send thee presents and tribute." When the King heard the Vizier's speech, it pleased him and he approved his counsel: so he bestowed on him dress of honour and said to him, "It is with such as thee that kings take counsel and it befits that thou command the van of the army and my son Sherkan the main battle." Then he sent for Sherkan and expounded the matter to him, telling him what the ambassadors and the Vizier had said, and enjoined him to take arms and prepare to set out, charging him not to cross the Vizier Dendan in aught that he should do. Then he bade him choose from among his troops ten thousand horsemen armed cap-a-pie and inured to war and hardship. Accordingly, Sherkan rose at once and chose out ten thousand horsemen, in obedience to his father's commandment, after which he entered his palace and mustered his troops and distributed money to them, saying, "Ye have three days to make ready." They kissed the earth before him and proceeded at once to make their preparations for the campaign; whilst Sherkan repaired to the armouries and provided himself with all the arms and armour that he needed, and thence to the stables, whence he took horses of choice breeds and others. When the three days were ended, the troops marched out of Baghdad, and King Omar came forth to take leave of his son, who kissed the earth before him, and he gave him seven thousand purses.[FN#6] Then he turned to the Vizier Dendan and commended to his care his son Sherkan's army and charged the latter to consult the Vizier in all things, to which they both promised obedience. After this, the King returned to Baghdad and Sherkan commanded the officers to draw out the troops in battle array. So they mustered them and the number of the army was ten thousand horsemen, besides footmen and followers. Then they loaded the beasts and beat the drums and blew the clarions and unfurled the banners and the standards, whilst Sherkan mounted, with the Vizier Dendan by his side and the standards waving over them, and the army set out and fared on, with the ambassadors in the van, till the day departed and the night came, when they halted and encamped for the night. On the morrow, as soon as God brought in the day, they took horse and continued their march, nor did they cease to press onward, guided by the ambassadors, for the space of twenty days. On the twenty-first day, at nightfall, they came to a wide and fertile valley, whose sides were thickly wooded and covered with grass, and there Sherkan called a three days' halt. So they dismounted and pitched their tents, dispersing right and left in the valley, whilst the Vizier Dendan and the ambassadors alighted in the midst. As for Sherkan, when he had seen the tents pitched and the troops dispersed on either side and had commanded his officers and attendants to camp beside the Vizier Dendan, he gave reins to his horse, being minded to explore the valley and himself mount guard over the army, having regard to his father's injunctions and to the fact that they had reached the frontier of the land of Roum and were now in the enemy's country. So he rode on alone along the valley, till a fourth part of the night was passed, when he grew weary and sleep overcame him, so that he could no longer spur his horse. Now he was used to sleep on horseback; so when drowsiness got the better of him, he fell asleep and the horse paced on with him half the night and entered a forest; but Sherkan awoke not, till the steed smote the earth with his hoof. Then he started from sleep and found himself among trees; and the moon arose and lighted up the two horizons. He was troubled at finding himself alone in this place and spoke the words, which whoso says shall never be confounded, that is to say, "There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme!" But as he rode on, in fear of the wild beasts, behold, the trees thinned and the moon shone out upon a meadow as it were one of the meads of Paradise and he heard therein a noise of talk and pleasant laughter such as ravishes the wit of men. So King Sherkan dismounted and tying his horse to a tree, fared on a little way, till he espied a stream of running water and heard a woman talking and saying in Arabic, "By the virtue of the Messiah, this is not handsome of you! But whoso speaks a word, I will throw her down and bind her with her girdle." He followed in the direction of the voice and saw gazelles frisking and wild cattle pasturing and birds in their various voices expressing joy and gladness: and the earth was embroidered with all manner of flowers and green herbs, even as says of it the poet in the following verses:

Earth has no fairer sight to show than this its blossom-time,
     With all the gently running streams that wander o'er its
     face.
It is indeed the handiwork of God Omnipotent, The Lord of every
     noble gift and Giver of all grace!

Midmost the meadow stood a monastery, and within the enclosure was a citadel that rose high into the air in the light of the moon. The stream passed through the midst of the monastery and therenigh sat ten damsels like moons, high-bosomed maids, clad in dresses and ornaments that dazzled the eyes, as says of them the poet:

The meadow glitters with the troops Of lovely ones that wander
     there.
Its grace and beauty doubled are By these that are so passing
     fair.
Virgins that, with their swimming gait, The hearts of all that
     see ensnare;
Along whose necks, like trails of grapes, Stream down the tresses
     of their hair:
Proudly they walk, with eyes that dart The shafts and arrows of
     despair,
And all the champions of the world Are slain by their seductive
     air.

Sherkan looked at the ten girls and saw in their midst a lady like the moon at its full, with ringleted hair and shining forehead, great black eyes and curling brow-locks, perfect in person and attributes, as says the poet:

Her beauty beamed on me with glances wonder-bright: The slender
     Syrian spears are not so straight and slight:
She laid her veil aside, and lo, her cheeks rose-red! All manner
     lovelyness was in their sweetest sight.
The locks, that o'er her brow fell down, were like the night,
     From out of which there shines a morning of delight.

Then Sherkan heard her say to the girls, "Come on, that I may wrestle with you, ere the moon set and the dawn come." So they came up to her, one after another, and she overthrew them, one by one, and bound their hands behind them with their girdles. When she had thrown them all, there turned to her an old woman, who was before her, and said, as if she were wroth with her, "O wanton, dost thou glory in overthrowing these girls? Behold, I am an old woman, yet have I thrown them forty times! So what hast thou to boast of? But if thou have strength to wrestle with me, stand up that I may grip thee and put thy head between thy feet." The young lady smiled at her words, although her heart was full of anger against her, and said, "O my lady Dhat ed Dewahi, wilt indeed wrestle with me, or dost thou jest with me?" "I mean to wrestle with thee in very deed," replied she. "Stand up to me then," said the damsel, "if thou have strength to do so." When the old woman heard this, she was sore enraged and the hair of her body stood on end, like that of a hedge-hog. Then she sprang up, whilst the damsel confronted her, and said, "By the virtue of the Messiah, I will not wrestle with thee, except I be naked." "O baggage!" So she loosed her trousers and putting her hand under her clothes, tore them off her body; then, taking a handkerchief of silk, she bound it about her middle and became as she were a bald Afriteh or a pied snake. Then she turned to the young lady and said to her, "Do as I have done." All this time, Sherkan was watching them and laughing at the loathly favour of the old woman. So the damsel took a sash of Yemen stuff and doubled it about her waist, then tucked up her trousers and showed legs of alabaster and above them a hummock of crystal, soft and swelling, and a belly that exhaled musk from its dimples, as it were a bed of blood-red anemones, and breasts like double pomegranates. Then the old woman bent to her and they took hold of one another, whilst Sherkan raised his eyes to heaven and prayed to God that the damsel might conquer the old hag. Presently, the former bored in under the latter, and gripping her by the breech with the left hand and by the gullet with the right, hoisted her off the ground; whereupon the old woman strove to free herself and in the struggle wriggled out of the girl's hands and fell on her back. Up went her legs and showed her hairy tout in the moonlight, and she let fly two great cracks of wind, one of which smote the earth, whilst the other smoked up to the skies. At this Sherkan laughed, till he fell to the ground, and said, "He lied not who dubbed thee Lady of Calamities![FN#7] Verily, thou sawest her prowess against the others." Then he arose and looked right and left, but saw none save the old woman thrown down on her back. So he drew near to hear what should pass between them; and behold, the young lady came up to the old one and throwing over her a veil of fine silk, helped her to dress herself, making excuses to her and saying, "O my lady Dhat ed Dewahi, I did not mean to throw thee so roughly, but thou wriggledst out of my hands; so praised be God for safety!" She returned her no answer, but rose in her confusion and walked away out of sight, leaving the young lady standing alone, by the other girls thrown down and bound. Then said Sherkan to himself, "To every fortune there is a cause. Sleep fell not on me nor did the steed bear me hither but for my good fortune; for of a surety this damsel and what is with her shall be my prize." So he turned back and mounted and drew his scimitar; then he gave his horse the spur and he started off with him, like an arrow from a bow, whilst he brandished his naked blade and cried out, "God is Most Great!" When the damsel saw him, she sprang to her feet and running to the bank of the river, which was there six cubits wide, made a spring and landed on the other side, where she turned and standing, cried out in a loud voice, "Who art thou, sirrah, that breakest in on our pastime, and that with thy whinger bared, as thou wert charging an army? Whence comest thou and whither art thou bound? Speak the truth, and it shall profit thee, and do not lie, for lying is of the loser's fashion. Doubtless thou hast strayed this night from thy road, that thou hast happened on this place. So tell me what thou seekest: if thou wouldst have us set thee in the right road, we will do so, or if thou seek help, we will help thee." When Sherkan heard her words, he replied, "I am a stranger of the Muslims, who am come out by myself in quest of booty, and I have found no fairer purchase this moonlit night than these ten damsels; so I will take them and rejoin my comrades with them." Quoth she, "I would have thee to know that thou hast not yet come at the booty: and as for these ten damsels, by Allah, they are no purchase for thee! Indeed, the fairest purchase thou canst look for is to win free of this place; for thou art now in a mead, where, if we gave one cry, there would be with us anon four thousand knights. Did I not tell thee that lying is shameful?" And he said, "The fortunate man is he to whom God sufficeth and who hath no need of other than Him." "By the virtue of the Messiah," replied she, "did I not fear to have thy death at my hand, I would give a cry that would fill the meadow on thee with horse and foot; but I have pity on the stranger: so if thou seek booty, I require of thee that thou dismount from thy horse and swear to me, by thy faith, that thou wilt not approach me with aught of arms, and we will wrestle, I and thou. If thou throw me, lay me on thy horse and take all of us to thy booty; and if I throw thee, thou shalt be at my commandment. Swear this to me, for I fear thy perfidy, since experience has it that, as long as perfidy is in men's natures, to trust in every one is weakness. But if thou wilt swear, I will come over to thee." Quoth Sherkan (and indeed he lusted after her and said to himself, "She does not know that I am a champion of the champions."), "Impose on me whatever oath thou deemest binding, and I will swear not to draw near thee till thou hast made thy preparations and sayest, 'Come and wrestle with me.' If thou throw me, I have wealth wherewith to ransom myself, and if I throw thee, I shall get fine purchase." Then said she, "Swear to me by Him who hath lodged the soul in the body and given laws to mankind, that thou wilt not beset me with aught of violence, but by way of wrestling; else mayst thou die out of the pale of Islam." "By Allah," exclaimed Sherkan, "if a Cadi should swear me, though he were Cadi of the Cadis, he would not impose on me the like of this oath!" Then he took the oath she required and tied his horse to a tree, sunken in the sea of reverie and saying in himself, "Glory to Him who fashioned her of vile water!"[FN#8] Then he girt himself and made ready for wrestling and said to her, "Cross the stream to me." Quoth she, "It is not for me to come to thee: if thou wilt, do thou cross over to me." "I cannot do that," replied he, and she said, "O boy, I will come to thee." So she gathered her skirts and making a spring, landed on the other side of the river by him; whereupon he drew near to her, wondering at her beauty and grace, and saw a form that the hand of Omnipotence had tanned with the leaves of the Jinn and which had been fostered by Divine solicitude, a form on which the zephyrs of fair fortune had blown and over whose creation favourable planets had presided. Then she called out to him, saying, "O Muslim, come and wrestle before the day break!" and tucked up her sleeves, showing a fore-arm like fresh curd; the whole place was lighted up by its whiteness and Sherkan was dazzled by it. Then he bent forward and clapped his hands and she did the like, and they took hold and gripped each other. He laid his hands on her slender waist, so that the tips of his fingers sank into the folds of her belly, and his limbs relaxed and he stood in the stead of desire, for there was displayed to him a body, in which was languishment of hearts, and he fell a-trembling like the Persian reed in the hurricane. So she lifted him up and throwing him to the ground, sat down on his breast with buttocks like a hill of sand, for he was not master of his reason. Then she said to him, "O Muslim, it is lawful among you to kill Christians; what sayst thou to my killing thee?" "O my lady," replied he, "as for killing me, it is unlawful; for our Prophet (whom God bless and preserve!) hath forbidden the slaying of women and children and old men and monks." "Since this was revealed unto your prophet," rejoined she, "it behoves us to be even with him therein; so rise: I give thee thy life, for beneficence is not lost upon men." Then she got off his breast and he rose and brushed the earth from his head, and she said to him, "Be not abashed; but, indeed, one who enters the land of the Greeks in quest of booty and to succour kings against kings, how comes it that there is no strength in him to defend himself against a woman?" "It was not lack of strength in me," replied he; "nor was it thy strength that overthrew me, but thy beauty: so if thou wilt grant me another bout, it will be of thy favour." She laughed and said, "I grant thee this: but these damsels have been long bound and their arms and shoulders are weary, and it were fitting I should loose them, since this next bout may peradventure be a long one." Then she went up to the girls and unbinding them, said to them in the Greek tongue, "Go and put yourselves in safety, till I have brought to nought this Muslim's craving for you." So they went away, whilst Sherkan looked at them and they gazed at him and the young lady. Then she and he drew near again and set breast against breast; but, when he felt her belly against his, his strength failed him, and she feeling this, lifted him in her hands, swiftlier than the blinding lightning, and threw him to the ground. He fell on his back, and she said to him, "Rise, I give thee thy life a second time. I spared thee before for the sake of thy prophet, for that he forbade the killing of women, and I do so this second time because of thy weakness and tender age and strangerhood; but I charge thee, if there be, in the army sent by King Omar ben Ennuman to the succour of the King of Constantinople, a stronger than thou, send him hither and tell him of me, for in wrestling there are divers kinds of strokes and tricks, such as feinting and the fore-tripe and the back-tripe and the leg-crick and the thigh-twist and the jostle and the cross-buttock." "By Allah, O my lady," replied Sherkan, (and indeed he was greatly incensed against her), "were I the chief Es Sefedi or Mohammed Caimal or Ibn es Seddi,[FN#9] I had not observed the fashion thou namest; for, by Allah, it was not by thy strength that thou overthrewest me, but by filling me with the desire of thy buttocks, because we people of Chaldaea love great thighs, so that nor wit nor foresight was left in me. But now if thou have a mind to try another fall with me, with my wits about me, I have a right to this one bout more, by the rules of the game, for my presence of mind has now returned to me." "Hast thou not had enough of wrestling, O conquered one?" rejoined she. "However, come, if thou wilt; but know that this bout must be the last." Then they took hold of each other and he set to in earnest and warded himself against being thrown down: so they strained awhile, and the damsel found in him strength such as she had not before observed and said to him, "O Muslim, thou art on thy guard!" "Yes," replied he; "thou knowest that there remaineth but this bout, and after each of us will go his own way." She laughed and he laughed too: then she seized the opportunity to bore in upon him unawares, and gripping him by the thigh, threw him to the ground, so that he fell on his back. She laughed at him and said, "Thou art surely an eater of bran; for thou art like a Bedouin bonnet, that falls at a touch, or a child's toy, that a puff of air overturns. Out on thee, thou poor creature! Go back to the army of the Muslims and send us other than thyself, for thou lackest thews, and cry us among the Arabs and Persians and Turks and Medes, 'Whoso has might in him, let him come to us.'" Then she made a spring and landed on the other side of the stream and said to Sherkan, laughing, "It goes to my heart to part with thee; get thee to thy friends, O my lord, before the morning, lest the knights come upon thee and take thee on the points of their lances. Thou hast not strength enough to defend thee against women; so how couldst thou make head against men and cavaliers?" And she turned to go back to the monastery. Sherkan was confounded and called out to her, saying, "O my lady, wilt thou go away and leave the wretched stranger, the broken-hearted slave of love?" So she turned to him, laughing, and said, "What wouldst thou? I grant thy prayer." "Have I set foot in thy country and tasted the sweetness of thy favours," replied Sherkan, "and shall I return without eating of thy victual and tasting thy hospitality? Indeed I am become one of thy servitors." Quoth she, "None but the base refuses hospitality; on my head and eyes be it! Do me the favour to mount and ride along the bank of the stream, abreast of me, for thou art my guest." At this Sherkan rejoiced and hastening back to his horse, mounted and rode along the river-bank, keeping abreast of her, till he came to a drawbridge, that hung by pulleys and chains of steel, made fast with hooks and padlocks. Here stood the ten damsels awaiting the lady, who spoke to one of them in the Greek tongue and said to her, "Go to him and take his horse's rein and bring him over to the monastery." So she went up to Sherkan and led him over the bridge to the other side and he followed her, amazed at what he saw and saying in himself, "Would the Vizier Dendan were with me, to look on these fair faces with his own eyes." Then he turned to the young lady and said to her, "O wonder of beauty, now art thou doubly bound to me, firstly, by the bond of comradeship, and secondly for that thou carriest me to thy house and I accept of thy hospitality and am at thy disposal and under thy protection. So do me the favour to go with me to the land of Islam, where thou shalt look upon many a lion-hearted prince and know who I am." His speech angered her and she said to him, "By the virtue of the Messiah, thou art keen of wit with me! But I see now what depravity is in thy heart and how thou allowest thyself to say a thing that proves thee a traitor. How should I do what thou sayest, when I know that, if I came to thy King Omar ben Ennuman, I should never win free of him? For he has not the like of me among his women nor in his palace, all lord of Baghdad and Khorassan as he is, with his twelve palaces, in number as the months of the year, and his concubines therein, in number as the days thereof; and if I come to him, he will not respect me, for that ye hold it lawful to take possession of the like of me, as it is said in your scripture, 'That which your right hand possesses.'[FN#10] So how canst thou speak thus to me? As for thy saying, 'Thou shalt look upon the champions of the Muslims,' by the Messiah, thou sayst that which is not true; for I saw your army, when it reached our country, these two days ago, and I did not see that your ordinance was that of kings, but beheld you only as a rabble of men collected together. And as for thy saying, 'Thou shalt know who I am,' I did not show thee courtesy of any intent to honour thee, but out of pride in myself; and the like of thee should not say this to the like of me, even though thou be Sherkan himself, King Omar ben Ennuman's son, who is renowned in these days." "And dost thou know Sherkan?" asked he. "Yes," replied she; "and I know of his coming with an army of ten thousand horse, for that he was sent by his father with these troops to the succour of the King of Constantinople." "O my lady," rejoined Sherkan, "I conjure thee, as thou believest in thy religion, tell me the cause of all this, that I may know truth from falsehood and with whom the fault lies." "By the virtue of thy faith," replied she, "were it not that I fear lest the news of me be bruited abroad that I am of the daughters of the Greeks, I would adventure myself and sally forth against the ten thousand horse and kill their chief, the Vizier Dendan, and take their champion Sherkan. Nor would there be any reproach to me in this, for I have read books and know the Arabic language and have studied good breeding and polite letters. But I have no need to vaunt my own prowess to thee, for thou hast tasted of my quality and proved my strength and skill and pre-eminence in wrestling; nor if Sherkan himself had been in thy place to-night and it had been said to him, 'Leap this river,' could he have done so. And I could wish well that the Messiah would throw him into my hands here in this monastery, that I might go forth to him in the habit of a man and pull him from his saddle and take him prisoner and lay him in fetters." When Sherkan heard this, pride and heat and warlike jealousy overcame him and he was minded to discover himself and lay violent hands on her but her beauty held him back from her, and he repeated the following verse:

Their charms, whatever fault the fair commit, A thousand intercessors bring for it.

So she went up, and he after her; whilst he looked at her back and saw her buttocks smiting against each other, like the billows in the troubled sea; and he recited the following verses:

In her face an advocate harbours, who blots out her every fault
     From the hearts of mankind, for he is mighty to intercede.
Whenas I look at her face, I cry in my wonder aloud, "The moon of
     the skies in the night of her full is risen indeed!"
If the Afrit of Belkis[FN#11] himself should wrestle a fall with
     her, Her charms would throw him forthright, for all his
     strength and speed.

They went on till they reached a vaulted gate, arched over with marble. This she opened and entered with Sherkan into a long vestibule, vaulted with ten arches from each of which hung a lamp of crystal, shining like the rays of the sun. The damsels met her at the end of the vestibule, bearing perfumed flambeaux and having on their heads kerchiefs embroidered with all manner jewels and went on before her, till they came to the inward of the monastery, where Sherkan saw couches set up all around, facing one another and overhung with curtains spangled with gold. The floor was paved with all kinds of variegated marbles, and in the midst was a basin of water, with four-and-twenty spouts of gold around it, from which issued water like liquid silver; whilst at the upper end stood a throne covered with silks of royal purple. Then said the damsel, "O my lord, mount this throne." So he seated himself on it, and she withdrew: and when she had been absent awhile, he asked the servants of her, and they said, "She hath gone to her sleeping-chamber; but we will serve thee as thou shalt order." So they set before him rare meats and he ate till he was satisfied, when they brought him a basin of gold and an ewer of silver, and he washed his hands. Then his mind reverted to his troops, and he was troubled, knowing not what had befallen them in his absence and thinking how he had forgotten his father's injunctions, so that he abode oppressed with anxiety and repenting of what he had done, till the dawn broke and the day appeared, when he lamented and sighed and became drowned in the sea of melancholy, repeating the following verses:

I lack not of prudence and yet in this case I've been fooled; so
     what shift shall avail unto me?
If any could ease me of love and its stress, Of my might and my
     virtue I'd set myself free.
But alas! my heart's lost in the maze of desire, And no helper
     save God in my strait can I see.

Hardly had he finished, when up came more than twenty damsels like moons, encompassing the young lady, who appeared amongst them as the full moon among stars. She was clad in royal brocade and girt with a woven girdle set with various kinds of jewels, that straitly clasped her waist and made her buttocks stand out as they were a hill of crystal upholding a wand of silver; and her breasts were like double pomegranates. On her head she wore a network of pearls, gemmed with various kinds of jewels, and she moved with a coquettish swimming gait, swaying wonder-gracefully, whilst the damsels held up her skirts. When Sherkan saw her beauty and grace, he was transported for joy and forgot his army and the Vizier Dendan end springing to his feet, cried out, "Beware, beware of that girdle rare!" and repeated the following verses:

Heavy of buttocks, languorous of gait, With limber shape and
     breasts right delicate,
She hides what passion in her bosom burns; Yet cannot I my heat
     dissimulate.
Her maidens, like strung pearls, behind her fare, Now all
     dispersed now knit in ordered state.

She fixed her eyes on him and considered him awhile, till she was assured of him, when she came up to him and said, "Indeed the place is honoured and illumined by thy presence, O Sherkan! How didst thou pass the night, O hero, after we went away and left thee? Verily lying is a defect and a reproach in kings, especially in great kings; and thou art Sherkan, son of King Omar ben Ennuman; so henceforth tell me nought but truth and strive not to keep the secret of thy condition, for falsehood engenders hatred and enmity. The arrow of destiny hath fallen on thee, and it behoves thee to show resignation and submission." When Sherkan heard what she said, he saw nothing for it but to tell her the truth so he said, "I am indeed Sherkan, son of Omar ben Ennuman, whom fortune hath afflicted and cast into this place: so now do whatsoever thou wilt." She bowed her head a long while, then turned to him and said, "Reassure thyself and be of good cheer; for thou art my guest, and bread and salt have passed between us; so art thou in my safeguard and under my protection. Have no fear; by the virtue of the Messiah, if all the people of the earth sought to harm thee, they should not come at thee till the breath had left my body for thy sake; for thou art under my protection and that of the Messiah." Then she sat down by his side and began to sport with him, till his alarm subsided and he knew that, had she been minded to kill him, she would have done so on the past night. After awhile, she spoke in the Greek tongue to one of her serving-women, who went away and returned in a little with a goblet and a tray of food; but Sherkan abstained from eating, saying in himself, "Maybe she hath put somewhat in this meat." She knew what was in his thought; so she turned to him and said, "By the virtue of the Messiah, the case is not as thou deemest, nor is there aught in this food of what thou suspectest! Were I minded to kill thee, I had done so before now." Then she came to the table and ate a mouthful of every dish, whereupon Sherkan came forward and fell to. She was pleased at this, and they both ate till they were satisfied, after which she let bring perfumes and sweet-smelling herbs and wines of all colours and kinds, in vessels of gold and silver and crystal. She filled a first cup and drank it off, before offering it to Sherkan, even as she had done with the food. Then she filled a second time and gave the cup to him. He drank and she said to him, "See, O Muslim, how thou art in the utmost delight and pleasure of life!" And she ceased not to drink and to ply him with drink, till he took leave of his wits, for the wine and the intoxication of love for her. Presently she said to the serving-maid, "O Merjaneh, bring us some instruments of music." "I hear and obey," replied Merjaneh, and going out, returned immediately with a lute, a Persian harp, a Tartar flute and an Egyptian dulcimer. The young lady took the lute and tuning it, sang to it in a dulcet voice, softer than the zephyr and sweeter than the waters of Tesnim,[FN#12] the following verses:

May Allah assoilzie thine eyes! How much is the blood they have
     shed! How great is the tale of the shafts thy pitiless
     glances have sped!
I honour the mistress, indeed, that harshly her suitor entreats;
     'Tis sin in the loved to relent or pity a lover misled.
Fair fortune and grace to the eyes that watch the night,
     sleepless, for thee, And hail to the heart of thy slave, by
     day that is heavy as lead!
'Tis thine to condemn me to death, for thou art my king and my
     lord. With my life I will ransom the judge, who heapeth
     unright on my head.

Then each of the damsels rose and taking an instrument played and sang to it in the Greek language. The lady their mistress, sang also, to Sherkan's delight. Then she said to him, "O Muslim, dost thou understand what I say?" "No," replied he; "it was the beauty of thy finger-tips that threw me into ecstasies." She laughed and said, "If I sang to thee in Arabic, what wouldst thou do?" "I should lose the mastery of my reason," replied he. So she took an instrument and changing the measure, sang the following verses:

Parting must ever bitter be; How shall one bear it patiently?
Three things are heavy on my heart, Absence, estrangement,
     cruelty.
I love a fair to whom I'm thrall, And severance bitter is to me.

Then she looked at Sherkan and found he had lost his senses for delight: and he lay amongst them insensible awhile, after which he revived and recalling the singing inclined to mirth. Then they fell again to drinking and ceased not from sport and merriment till the day departed with the evening and the night let fall her wings. Thereupon she rose and retired to her chamber. Sherkan enquired after her and being told that she was gone to her bedchamber, said, "I commend her to the safe-keeping of God and to His protection!" As soon as it was day, a waiting-woman came to him and said, "My mistress bids thee to her." So he rose and followed her, and as he drew near her lodging, the damsels received him with smitten tabrets and songs of greeting and escorted him to a great door of ivory set with pearls and jewels. Here they entered and he found himself in a spacious saloon, at the upper end of which was a great estrade, carpeted with various kinds of silk, and round it open lattices giving upon trees and streams. About the place were figures, so fashioned that the air entered them and set in motion instruments of music within them, and it seemed to the beholder as if they spoke. Here sat the young lady, looking on the figures; but when she saw Sherkan, she sprang to her feet and taking him by the hand, made him sit down by her and asked him how he had passed the night. He blessed her and they sat talking awhile, till she said to him, "Knowest thou aught touching lovers and slaves of passion?" "Yes," replied he; "I know some verses on the subject." "Let me hear them," said she. So he repeated the following verses:

Pleasure and health, O Azzeh, and good digestion to thee! How
     with our goods and our names and our honours thou makest
     free!
By Allah, whene'er I blow hot, she of a sudden blows cold, And no
     sooner do I draw near, than off at a tangent flies she!
Indeed, as I dote upon Azzeh, as soon as I've cleared me of all
     That stands between us and our loves, she turns and abandons
     me;
As a traveller that trusts in the shade of a cloud for his
     noontide rest, But as soon as he halts, the shade flits and
     the cloud in the distance cloth flee.

When she heard this, she said, "Verily Kutheiyir[FN#13] was a poet of renown and a master of chaste eloquence and attained rare perfection in praise of Azzeh, especially when he says:

'If Azzeh should before a judge the sun of morning cite, Needs
     must the umpire doom to her the meed of beauty bright;
And women all, who come to me, at her to rail and flite, God make
     your cheeks the sandal-soles whereon her feet alight!'

"And indeed it is reported," added she, "that Azzeh was endowed with the extreme of beauty and grace." Then she said to Sherkan, "O king's son, dost thou know aught of Jemil's[FN#14] verses to Butheineh?" "Yes," replied he; "none knows Jemil's verses better than I." And he repeated the following:

"Up and away to the holy war, Jemil!" they say; and I, "What have
     I to do with waging war except among the fair?"
For deed and saying with them alike are full of ease and cheer,
     And he's a martyr[FN#15] who tilts with them and falleth
     fighting there.
If I say to Butheineh, "What is this love, that eateth my life
     away?" She answers, "Tis rooted fast in thy heart and will
     increase fore'er."
Or if I beg her to give me back some scantling of my wit,
     Wherewith to deal with the folk and live, she answereth,
     "Hope it ne'er!"
Thou willst my death, ah, woe is me! thou willst nought else but
     that; Yet I, I can see no goal but thee, towards which my
     wishes fare.

"Thou hast done well, O king's son," said she, "and Jemil also did excellently well. But what would Butheineh have done with him that he says, 'Thou wishest to kill me and nought else?'" "O my lady," replied he, "she sought to do with him what thou seekest to do with me, and even that will not content thee." She laughed at his answer, and they ceased not to carouse till the day departed and the night came with the darkness. Then she rose and went to her sleeping-chamber, and Sherkan slept in his place till the morning. As soon as he awoke, the damsels came to him with tambourines and other instruments of music, according to their wont, and kissing the earth before him, said to him, "In the name of God, deign to follow us; for our mistress bids thee to her." So he rose and accompanied the girls, who escorted him, smiting on tabrets and other instruments of music, to another saloon, bigger than the first and decorated with pictures and figures of birds and beasts, passing description. Sherkan wondered at the fashion of the place and repeated the following verses:

My rival plucks, of the fruits of the necklets branching wide,
     Pearls of the breasts in gold enchased and beautified
With running fountains of liquid silver in streams And cheeks of
     rose and beryl, side by side.
It seemeth, indeed, as if the violet's colour vied With the
     sombre blue of the eyes, with antimony dyed.[FN#16]

When the lady saw Sherkan, she came to meet him, and taking him by the hand, said to him, "O son of King Omar ben Ennuman, hast thou any skill in the game of chess?" "Yes," replied he; "but do not thou be as says the poet." And he repeated the following verses:

I speak, and passion, the while, folds and unfolds me aye; But a
     draught of the honey of love my spirits thirst could stay.
I sit at the chess with her I love, and she plays with me, With
     white and with black; but this contenteth me no way.
Meseemeth as if the king were set in the place of the rook And
     sought with the rival queens a bout of the game to play.
And if I looked in her eyes, to spy the drift of her moves, The
     amorous grace of her glance would doom me to death
     straightaway.

Then she brought the chess-board and played with him; but instead of looking at her moves, he looked at her face and set the knight in the place of the elephant[FN#17] and the elephant in the place of the knight. She laughed and said to him, "If this be thy play, thou knowest nothing of the game." "This is only the first bout," replied he; "take no count of it." She beat him, and he replaced the pieces and played again with her; but she beat him a second time and a third and a fourth and a fifth. So she fumed to him and said, "Thou art beaten in everything." "O my lady," answered he, "how should one not be beaten, who plays with the like of thee?" Then she called for food, and they ate and washed their hands, after which the maids brought wine, and they drank. Presently, the lady took the dulcimer, for she was skilled to play thereon, and sang to it the following verses:

Fortune is still on the shift, now gladness and now woe; I liken
     it to the tide, in its ceaseless ebb and flow.
So drink, if thou have the power, whilst it is yet serene, Lest
     it at unawares depart, and thou not know.

They gave not over carousing till nightfall, and this day was pleasanter than the first. When the night came, the lady went to her sleeping-chamber, leaving Sherkan with the damsels. So he threw himself on the ground and slept till the morning, when the damsels came to him with tambourines and other musical instruments, according to their wont. When he saw them, he sat up; and they took him and carried him to their mistress, who came to meet him and taking him by the hand, made him sit down by her side. Then she asked him how he had passed the night, to which he replied by wishing her long life; and she took the lute and sang the following verses:

Incline not to parting, I pray, For bitter its taste is alway. The sun at his setting grows pale, To think he must part from the day.

Hardly had she made an end of singing, when there arose of a sudden a great clamour, and a crowd of men and knights rushed into the place, with naked swords gleaming in their hands, crying out in the Greek tongue, "Thou hast fallen into our hands, O Sherkan! Be sure of death!" When he heard this, he said to himself, "By Allah, she hath laid a trap for me and held me in play, till her men should come! These are the knights with whom she threatened me: but it is I who have thrown myself into this peril." Then he turned to the lady to reproach her, but saw that she had changed colour; and she sprang to her feet and said to the new-comers, "Who are ye?" "O noble princess and unpeered pearl," replied the knight their chief, "dost thou know who is this man with thee?" "Not I," answered she. "Who is he?" Quoth the knight, "He is the despoiler of cities and prince of cavaliers, Sherkan, son of King Omar ben Ennuman. This is he who captures the citadels and masters the most impregnable strengths. The news of him reached King Herdoub, thy father, by the report of the old princess Dhat ed Dewahi; and thou hast done good service to the army of the Greeks by helping them to lay hands on this pestilent lion." When she heard this, she looked at the knight and said to him, "What is thy name?" And he answered, "My name is Masoureh son of thy slave Mousoureh ben Kasherdeh, chief of the nobles." Quoth she, "And how camest thou in to me without my leave?" "O our lady," replied he, "when I came to the gate, neither chamberlain nor porter offered me any hindrance; but all the gate-keepers rose and forewent me as of wont; though, when others come, they leave them standing at the gate, whilst they ask leave for them to enter. But this is no time for long talk, for the King awaits our return to him with this prince, who is the mainstay of the army of Islam, that he may kill him and that his troops may depart whence they came, without our having the toil of fighting them." "Thou sayest an ill thing," rejoined the princess. "Verily, the lady Dhat ed Dewahi lied; and she hath avouched a vain thing, of which she knows not the truth; for by the virtue of the Messiah, this man who is with me is not Sherkan, nor is he a captive, but a stranger, who came to us, seeking hospitality, and we received him as a guest. So, even were we assured that this was Sherkan and did we know that it was he beyond doubt, it would suit ill with my honour that I should deliver into your hands one who hath come under my safeguard. Betray me not, therefore, in the person of my guest, neither bring me into ill repute among men; but return to the King my father and kiss the earth before him and tell him that the case is not according to the report of the lady Dhat ed Dewahi." "O Abrizeh," replied the knight Masoureh, "I cannot go back to the King without his enemy." Quoth she (and indeed she was angry), "Out on thee! Return to him with the answer, and no blame shall fall on thee." But he said, "I will not return without him." At this her colour changed and she exclaimed, "A truce to talk and idle words; for of a verity this man would not have come in to us, except he were assured that he could of himself make head against a hundred horse; and if I said to him, 'Art thou Sherkan, son of King Omar ben Ennuman?' he would answer, 'Yes.' Nathless, it is not in your power to hinder him; for if ye beset him, he will not turn back from you, till he have slain all that are in the place. Behold, he is with me and I will bring him before you, with his sword and buckler in his hands." "If I be safe from thy wrath," replied Masoureh, "I am not safe from that of thy father, and when I see him, I shall sign to the knights to take him prisoner, and we will carry him, bound and abject, to the King." When she heard this, she said, "The thing shall not pass thus, for it would be a disgrace. This man is but one and ye are a hundred. So, an ye be minded to attack him, come out against him, one after one, that it may appear to the King which is the valiant amongst you." "By the Messiah," rejoined Masoureh, "thou sayest sooth, and none but I shall go out against him first!" Then she said, "Wait till I go to him and tell him and hear what he says. If he consent, it is well but if he refuse, ye shall not anywise come at him, for I and my damsels and all that are in the house will be his ransom." So she went to Sherkan and told him the case, whereat he smiled and knew that she had not betrayed him, but that the matter had been bruited abroad, till it came to the King, against her wish. So he laid all the blame on himself, saying, "How came I to venture myself in the country of the Greeks?" Then he said to her, "Indeed, to let them tilt against me, one by one, were to lay on them a burden more than they can bear. Will they not come out against me, ten by ten?" "That were knavery and oppression," replied she. "One man is a match for another." When he heard this, he sprang to his feet and made towards them, with his sword and battle-gear; and Masoureh also sprang up and rushed on him. Sherkan met him like a lion and smote him with his sword upon the shoulder, that the blade came out gleaming from his back and vitals. When the princess saw this, Sherkan's prowess was magnified in her eyes and she knew that she had not overthrown him by her strength, but by her beauty and grace. So she turned to the knights and said to them, "Avenge your chief!" Thereupon out came the slain man's brother, a fierce warrior, and rushed upon Sherkan, who delayed not, but smote him on the shoulders, and the sword came out, gleaming, from his vitals. Then cried the princess, "O servants of the Messiah, avenge your comrades!" So they ceased not to come out against him, one by one, and he plied them with the sword, till he had slain fifty knights, whilst the princess looked on. And God cast terror into the hearts of those who were left, so that they held back and dared not meet him in single combat, but rushed on him all at once; and he drove at them with a heart firmer than a rock and smote them as the thresher smiteth the corn, till he had driven sense and life forth of them. Then the princess cried out to her damsels, saying, "Who is left in the monastery?" "None but the porters," replied they; whereupon she went up to Sherkan and embraced him, and he returned with her to the saloon, after he had made an end of the mellay. Now there remained a few of the knights hidden in the cells of the convent, and when Abrizeh saw this, she rose and going away, returned, clad in a strait-ringed coat of mail and holding in her hand a scimitar of Indian steel. And she said, "By the virtue of the Messiah, I will not be grudging of myself for my guest nor will I abandon him, though for this I abide a reproach in the land of the Greeks!" Then she counted the dead and found that he had slain fourscore of the knights and other twenty had taken flight. When she saw how he had dealt with them, she said to him, "God bless thee, O Sherkan! The cavaliers may well glory in the like of thee!" Then he rose and wiping his sword of the blood of the slain, repeated the following verses:

How often in battle I've cleft the array And given the champions
     to wild beasts a prey!
Ask all men what happened to me and to them, When I drove through
     the ranks on the sword-smiting day.
I left ail their lions of war overthrown: On the sun-scorched
     sands of those countries they lay.

When he had finished, the princess came up to him and kissed his hand; then she put off her coat of mail, and he said to her, "O my lady, wherefore didst thou don that coat of mail and bare thy sabre?" "It was of my care for thee against yonder wretches," replied she. Then she called the porters and said to them, "How came you to let the king's men enter my house, without my leave!" "O princess," replied they, "we have not used to need to ask leave for the king's messengers, and especially for the chief of the knights." Quoth she, "I think you were minded to dishonour me and slay my guest." And she bade Sherkan strike off their heads. He did so and she said to the rest of her servants, "Indeed, they deserved more than that." Then turning to Sherkan, she said to him, "Now that there hath become manifest to thee what was hidden, I will tell thee my story. Know, then, that I am the daughter of Herdoub, King of Roum; my name is Abrizeh and the old woman called Dhat ed Dewahi is my grandmother, my father's mother. She it was who told my father of thee, and she will certainly cast about to ruin me, especially as thou hast slain my father's men and it is noised abroad that I have made common cause with the Muslims. Wherefore it were wiser that I should leave dwelling here, what while Dhat ed Dewahi is behind me; but I claim of thee the like kindness and courtesy I have shown thee, for my father and I are now become at odds on thine account. So do not thou omit to do aught that I shall say to thee, for indeed all this hath fallen out through thee." At this, Sherkan was transported for joy and his breast dilated, and he said, "By Allah, none shall come at thee, whilst my life lasts in my body! But canst thou endure the parting from thy father and thy folk?" "Yes," answered she. So Sherkan swore to her and they made a covenant of this. Then said she, "Now my heart is at ease; but there is one other condition I must exact of thee." "What is that?" asked Sherkan. "It is," replied she, "that thou return with thy troops to thine own country." "O my lady," said he, "my father, King Omar ben Ennuman, sent me to make war upon thy father, on account of the treasure he took from the King of Constantinople, and amongst the rest three great jewels, rich in happy properties." "Reassure thyself," answered she; "I will tell thee the truth of the matter and the cause of the feud between us and the King of Constantinople. Know that we have a festival called the Festival of the Monastery, for which each year the kings' daughters of various countries and the wives and daughters of the notables and merchants resort to a certain monastery and abide there seven days. I was wont to resort thither with the rest; but when there befell hostility between us, my father forbade me to be present at the festival for the space of seven years. One year, it chanced that amongst the young ladies who resorted to the Festival as of wont, there came the King's daughter of Constantinople, a handsome girl called Sufiyeh. They tarried at the monastery six days, and on the seventh, the folk went away; but Sufiyeh said, 'I will not return to Constantinople, but by sea.' So they fitted her out a ship, in which she embarked, she and her suite, and put out to sea; but as they sailed, a contrary wind caught them and drove the ship from her course, till, as fate and providence would have it, she fell in with a ship of the Christians from the Island of Camphor, with a crew of five hundred armed Franks, who had been cruising about for some time. When they sighted the sails of the ship in which were Sufiyeh and her maidens, they gave chase in all haste and coming up with her before long, threw grapnels on board and made fast to her. Then they made all sail for their own island and were but a little distant from it, when the wind veered and rent their sails and cast them on to a reef on our coast. Thereupon we sallied forth on them, and looking on them as booty driven to us by fate, slew the men and made prize of the ships, in which we found the treasures and rarities in question and forty damsels, amongst whom was Sufiyeh. We carried the damsels to my father, not knowing that the King's daughter of Constantinople was among them, and he chose out ten of them, including Sufiyeh, for himself, and divided the rest among his courtiers. Then he set apart Sufiyeh and four other girls and sent them to thy father, King Omar ben Ennuman, together with other presents, such as cloth and stuffs of wool and Grecian silks. Thy father accepted them and chose out from amongst the five girls the princess Sufiyeh, daughter of King Afridoun; nor did we hear aught more of the matter till the beginning of this year, when King Afridoun wrote to my father in terms which it befits not to repeat, reproaching and menacing him and saying to him, 'Two years ago, there fell into thy hands a ship of ours, that had been seized by a company of Frankish corsairs and in which was my daughter Sufiyeh, attended by near threescore damsels. Yet thou sentest none to tell me of this and I could not make the case public, lest disgrace fall on my repute among the kings, by reason of my daughter's dishonour. So I kept the affair secret till this year, when I communicated with certain of the Frankish pirates and sought news of my daughter from the kings of the islands. They replied, "By Allah, we carried her not forth of thy realm, but we have heard that King Herdoub took her from certain pirates." And they told me all that had befallen her. So now, except thou wish to be at feud with me and design to disgrace me and dishonour my daughter, thou wilt forthright, as soon as this letter reaches thee, send my daughter back to me. But if thou pay no heed to my letter and disobey my commandment, I will assuredly requite thee thy foul dealing and the baseness of thine acts.' When my father read this letter, it was grievous to him and he regretted not having known that Sufiyeh, King Afridoun's daughter, was amongst the captured damsels, that he might have sent her back to her father; and he was perplexed about the affair, for that, after the lapse of so long a time, he could not send to King Omar ben Ennuman and demand her back from him, the more that he had lately heard that God had vouchsafed him children by this very Sufiyeh. So when we considered the matter, we knew that this letter was none other than a great calamity; and nothing would serve but that my father must write an answer to it, making his excuses to King Afridoun and swearing to him that he knew not that his daughter was among the girls in the ship and setting forth how he had sent her to King Omar ben Ennuman and God had vouchsafed him children by her. When my father's reply reached King Afridoun, he rose and sat down and roared and foamed at the mouth, exclaiming, 'What! shall he make prize of my daughter and she become a slave-girl and be passed from hand to hand and sent for a gift to kings, and they lie with her without a contract? By the virtue of the Messiah and the true faith, I will not desist till I have taken my revenge for this and wiped out my disgrace, and indeed I will do a deed that the chroniclers shall chronicle after me.' So he took patience till he had devised a plot and laid great snares, when he sent an embassy to thy father King Omar, to tell him that which thou hast heard so that thy father equipped thee and an army with thee and sent thee to him, Afridoun's object being to lay hold of thee and thine army with thee. As for the three jewels of which he told thy father, he spoke not the truth of them; for they were with Sufiyeh and my father took them from her, when she fell into his hands, she and her maidens, and gave them to me, and they are now with me. So go thou to thy troops and turn them back, ere they fare farther into the land of the Franks and the country of the Greeks; for as soon as you are come far enough into the inward of the country, they will stop the roads upon you, and there will be no escape for you from their hands till the day of rewards and punishments. I know that thy troops are still where thou leftest them, because thou didst order them to halt there three days; and they have missed thee all this time and know not what to do." When Sherkan heard her words, he was absent awhile in thought then he kissed Abrizeh's hand and said, "Praise be to God who hath bestowed thee on me and appointed thee to be the cause of my salvation and that of those who are with me! But it is grievous to me to part from thee and I know not what will become of thee after my departure." Quoth she, "Go now to thy troops and lead them back, whilst ye are yet near your own country. If the ambassadors are still with them, lay hands on them, that the case may be made manifest to thee, and after three days I will rejoin thee and we will all enter Baghdad together; but forget thou not the compact between us." Then she rose to bid him farewell and assuage the fire of longing; so she took leave of him and embraced him and wept sore; whereupon passion and desire were sore upon him and he also wept and repeated the following verses:

I bade her farewell, whilst my right hand was wiping my eyes, And
     still with my left, the while, I held her in close embrace.
Then, "Fearest thou not disgrace?" quoth she; and I answered,
     "No. Sure, on the parting-day, for lovers there's no
     disgrace!"

Then Sherkan left her and went without the monastery, where they brought him his horse and he mounted and rode down the bank of the stream, till he came to the bridge, and crossing it, entered the forest. As soon as he was clear of the trees and came to the open country, he was aware of three horsemen pricking towards him. So he drew his sword and rode on cautiously: but as they drew near he recognized them and behold, it was the Vizier Dendan and two of his officers. When they saw him and knew him, they dismounted and saluting him, asked the reason of his absence, whereupon he told them all that had passed between him and the princess Abrizeh from first to last. The Vizier returned thanks to God the Most High for his safety and said, "Let us at once depart hence, for the ambassadors that were with us are gone to inform their king of our arrival, and belike he will hasten to fall on us and seize us." So they rode on in haste, till they came to the camp, when Sherkan commanded to depart forthright, and the army set out and journeyed by forced marches for five days, at the end of which time they alighted in a thickly wooded valley, where they rested awhile. Then they set out again and fared on till they came to the frontiers of their own country. Here they felt themselves in safety and halted to rest; and the country people came out to them with guest-gifts and victual and fodder for the cattle. They lay there and rested two days; after which Sherkan bade the Vizier Dendan fare forward to Baghdad with his troops, and he did so. But Sherkan himself abode behind with a hundred horse, till the rest of the army had been gone a day, when he mounted, he and his men, and fared on two parasangs' space, till they came to a narrow pass between two mountains and behold, there arose a great cloud of dust in their front. So they halted their horses awhile, till the dust lifted and discovered a hundred cavaliers, as they were fierce lions, cased in complete steel As soon as they came within earshot of Sherkan and his men, they cried out to them, saying, "By John and Mary, we have gotten what we hoped! We have been following you by forced marches, night and day, till we forewent you in this place. So alight and lay down your arms and yield yourselves, that we may grant you your lives." When Sherkan heard this, his eyes rolled and his cheeks flushed and he said, "O dogs of Nazarenes, how dare ye enter our country and set foot on our earth? And doth not this suffice you, but ye must adventure yourselves and give us such words as these? Do ye think to escape out of our hands and return to your country?" Then he cried out to his hundred horse, saying, "Up and at these dogs, for they are even as you in number!" So saying, he drew his sword and drove at them, without further parley, he and his hundred men. The Franks received them with hearts stouter than stone, and they met, man to man. Then fell champion upon champion and there befell a sore strife and great was the terror and the roar of the battle; nor did they leave jousting and foining and smiting with swords, till the day departed and the night came with the darkness; when they drew apart, and Sherkan mustered his men and found them all unhurt, save four who were slightly wounded. Then said he to them, "By Allah, all my life I have waded in the surging sea of war and battle, but never saw I any so firm and stout in sword-play and shock of men as these warriors!" "Know, O King," replied they, "that there is among them a Frank cavalier, who is their leader, and indeed he is a man of valour and his strokes are terrible: but, by Allah, he spares us, great and small; for whoso falls into his hands, he lets him go and forbears to slay him. By Allah, an he would, he could kill us all!" When Sherkan heard this, he was confounded and said, "To-morrow, we will draw out and defy them to single combat, for we are a hundred to their hundred; and we will seek help against them from the Lord of the heavens." Meanwhile, the Franks came to their leader and said to him, "Of a truth, we have not come by our desire of these this day." "To-morrow," quoth he, "we will draw out and joust against them, one by one." So they passed the night in this mind, and both camps kept watch till the morning. As soon as God the Most High brought on the day, King Sherkan mounted, with his hundred horse, and they betook themselves to the field, where they found the Franks ranged in battle array, and Sherkan said to his men, "Verily, our enemies are of the same mind as we; so up and at them briskly." Then came forth a herald of the Franks and cried out, saying, "Let there be no fighting betwixt us to-day, except by way of single combat, a champion of yours against one of ours!" Thereupon one of Sherkan's men came out from the ranks and spurring between the two parties, cried out, "Who is for jousting? Who is for fighting? Let no laggard nor weakling come out against me to-day!" Hardly had he made an end of speaking, when there sallied forth to him a Frankish horseman, armed cap-a-pie and clad in cloth of gold, riding on a gray horse, and he had no hair on his cheeks. He drove his horse into the midst of the field and the two champions fell to cutting and thrusting, nor was it long before the Frank smote the Muslim with his lance and unhorsing him, took him prisoner and bore him off in triumph. At this, his comrades rejoiced and forbidding him to go out again, sent forth another to the field, to whom sallied out a second Muslim, the brother of the first. The two drove at each other and fought for a little, till the Frank ran at the Muslim and throwing him off his guard by a feint, smote him with the butt-end of his spear and unhorsed him and took him prisoner. After this fashion, the Muslims ceased not to come forth and the Franks to unhorse them and take them prisoner, till the day departed and the night came with the darkness. Now they had captured twenty cavaliers of the Muslims, and when Sherkan saw this, it was grievous to him, and he mustered his men and said to them, "What is this thing that hath befallen us? To-morrow morning, I myself will go out into the field and seek to joust with their chief and learn his reason for entering our country and warn him against fighting. If he persist, we will do battle with him, and if he proffer peace, we will make peace with him." They passed the night thus, and when God brought on the day, both parties mounted and drew out in battle array. Then Sherkan was about to sally forth, when behold, more than half of the Franks dismounted and marched on foot, before one of them, who was mounted, to the midst of the field. Sherkan looked at this cavalier and behold, he was their chief. He was clad in a tunic of blue satin and a close-ringed shirt of mail; his face was as the full moon at its rising and he had no hair on his cheeks. In his hand he held a sword of Indian steel, and he was mounted on a black horse with a white star, like a dirhem, on his forehead. He spurred into the midst of the field and signing to the Muslims, cried out with fluent speech in the Arabic tongue, saying, "Ho, Sherkan! Ho, son of Omar ben Ennuman, thou that stormest the citadels and layest waste the lands, up and out to joust and battle with him who halves the field with thee! Thou art prince of thy people and I am prince of mine; and whoso hath the upper hand, the other's men shall come under his sway." Hardly had he made an end of speaking, when out came Sherkan, with a heart full of wrath, and spurring his horse into the midst of the field, drove like an angry lion at the Frank, who awaited him with calm and steadfastness and met him as a champion should. Then they fell to cutting and thrusting, nor did they cease to wheel and turn and give and take, as they were two mountains clashing together or two seas breaking one against the other, till the day departed and the night brought on the darkness, when they drew apart and returned, each to his people. As soon as Sherkan reached his comrades, he said to them, "Never in my life saw I the like of this cavalier; and he has one fashion I never yet beheld in any. It is that, when he has a chance of dealing his adversary a deadly blow, he reverses his lance and smites him with the butt. Of a truth, I know not what will be the issue between him and me; but I would we had in our army his like and the like of his men." Then he passed the night in sleep, and when it was morning, the Frank spurred out to the mid-field, where Sherkan met him, and they fell to fighting and circling one about the other, whilst all necks were stretched out to look at them; nor did they cease from battle and swordplay and thrusting with spears, till the day departed and the night came with the darkness, when they drew asunder and returned each to his own camp. Then each related to his comrades what had befallen him with his adversary, and the Frank said to his men, "To-morrow shall decide the matter." So they both passed the night in sleep, and as soon as it was day, they mounted and drove at each other and ceased not to fight till the middle of the day. Then the Frank made a shift, first spurring his horse and then checking him with the bridle, so that he stumbled and threw him; whereupon Sherkan fell on him and was about to smite him with his sword and make an end of the long strife, when the Frank cried out, "O Sherkan, this is not the fashion of champions! It is only the beaten[FN#18] who deal thus with women." When Sherkan heard this, he raised his eyes to the Frank's face and looking straitly at him, knew him for none other than the princess Abrizeh, whereupon he threw the sword from his hand and kissing the earth before her, said to her, "What moved thee to do this thing?" Quoth she, "I was minded to prove thee in the field and try thy stoutness in battle. These that are with me are all of them my women, and they are all maids; yet have they overcome thy horsemen in fair fight; and had not my horse stumbled with me, thou shouldst have seen my strength and prowess." Sherkan smiled at her speech and said, "Praised be God for safety and for my reunion with thee, O queen of the age!" Then she cried out to her damsels to loose the prisoners and dismount. They did as she bade and came and kissed the earth before her and Sherkan, who said to them, "It is the like of you that kings treasure up against the hour of need." Then he signed to his comrades to salute the princess; so they dismounted all and kissed the earth before her, for they knew the story. After this, the whole two hundred mounted and rode day and night for six days' space, till they drew near to Baghdad when they halted and Sherkan made Abrizeh and her companions put off their male attire and don the dress of the women of the Greeks. Then he despatched a company of his men to Baghdad to acquaint his father with his arrival in company with the princess Abrizeh, daughter of King Herdoub, to the intent that he might send some one to meet her. They passed the night in that place, and when God the Most High brought on the day, Sherkan and his company took horse and fared on towards the city. On the way, they met the Vizier Dendan, who had come out with a thousand horse, by commandment of King Omar, to do honour to the princess Abrizeh and to Sherkan. When they drew near, the Vizier and his company dismounted and kissed the earth before the prince and princess, then mounted again and escorted them, till they reached the city and came to the palace. Sherkan went in to his father, who rose and embraced him and questioned him of what had happened. So he told him all that had befallen him, including what the princess Abrizeh had told him and what had passed between them and how she had left her father and her kingdom and had chosen to depart and take up her abode with them. And he said to his father, "Indeed, the King of Constantinople had plotted to do us a mischief, because of his daughter Sufiyeh, for that the King of Caesarea had made known to him her history and the manner of her being made a gift to thee, he not knowing her to be King Afridoun's daughter; else would he have restored her to her father. And of a verity, we were only saved from these perils by the lady Abrizeh, and never saw I a more valiant than she!" And he went on to tell his father of the wrestling and the jousting from beginning to end. When King Omar heard his son's story, Abrizeh was exalted in his eyes, and he longed to see her and sent Sherkan to fetch her. So Sherkan went out to her and said, "The king calls for thee." She replied, "I hear and obey;" and he took her and brought her in to his father, who was seated on his throne, attended only by the eunuchs, having dismissed his courtiers and officers. The princess entered and kissing the ground before him, saluted him in choice terms. He was amazed at her fluent speech and thanked her for her dealing with his son Sherkan and bade her be seated. So she sat down and uncovered her face, which when the king saw, his reason fled and he made her draw near and showed her especial favour, appointing her a palace for herself and her damsels and assigning them due allowances. Then he asked her of the three jewels aforesaid, and she replied, "O King of the age, they are with me." So saying, she rose and going to her lodging, opened her baggage and brought out a box, from which she took a casket of gold. She opened the casket and taking out the three jewels, kissed them and gave them to the King and went away, taking his heart with her. Then the king sent for his son Sherkan and gave him one of the three jewels. Sherkan enquired of the other two, and the King replied, "O my son, I mean to give one to thy brother Zoulmekan and the other to thy sister Nuzhet ez Zeman." When Sherkan heard that he had a brother (for up to that time he had only known of his sister) he turned to his father and said to him, "O King, hast thou a son other than myself?" "Yes," answered Omar, "and he is now six years old." And he told him that his name was Zoulmekan and that he and Nuzhet ez Zeman were twins, born at a birth. This news was grievous to Sherkan, but he hid his chagrin and said, "The blessing of God the Most High be upon them!" And he threw the jewel from his hand and shook the dust off his clothes. Quoth his father, "What made thee change colour, when I told thee of this, seeing that the kingdom is assured to thee after me? For, verily, the troops have sworn to thee and the Amirs and grandees have taken the oath of succession to thee; and this one of the three jewels is thine." At this, Sherkan bowed his head and was ashamed to bandy words with his father: so he accepted the jewel and went away, knowing not what to do for excess of anger, and stayed not till he reached the princess Abrizeh's palace. When she saw him, she rose to meet him and thanked him for what he had done and called down blessings on him and his father. Then she sat down and made him sit by her side. After awhile, she saw anger in his face and questioned him, whereupon he told her that God had vouchsafed his father two children, a boy and a girl, by Sufiyeh, and that he had named the boy Zoulmekan and the girl Nuzhet ez Zeman. "He has given me one of the jewels," continued he, "and kept the other two for them. I knew not of Zoulmekan's birth till this day, and he is now six years old. So when I learnt this, wrath possessed me and I threw down the jewel: and I tell thee the reason of my anger and hide nothing from thee. But I fear lest the King take thee to wife, for he loves thee and I saw in him signs of desire for thee: so what wilt thou say, if he wish this?" "Know, O Sherkan," replied the princess, "that thy father has no dominion over me, nor can he take me without my consent; and if he take me by force, I will kill myself. As for the three jewels, it was not my intent that he should give them to either of his children and I had no thought but that he would lay them up with his things of price in his treasury; but now I desire of thy favour that thou make me a present of the jewel that he gave thee, if thou hast accepted it." "I hear and obey," replied Sherkan and gave her the jewel. Then said she, "Fear nothing," and talked with him awhile. Presently she said, "I fear lest my father hear that I am with you and sit not down with my loss, but do his endeavour to come at me; and to that end he may ally himself with King Afridoun and both come on thee with armies and so there befall a great turmoil." "O my lady," replied Sherkan, "if it please thee to sojourn with us, take no thought of them, though all that be in the earth and in the ocean gather themselves together against us!" "It is well," rejoined she; "if ye entreat me well, I will tarry with you, and if ye deal evilly by me, I will depart from you." Then she bade her maidens bring food; so they set the tables, and Sherkan ate a little and went away to his own house, anxious and troubled.

Meanwhile, King Omar betook himself to the lodging of the lady Sufiyeh, who rose to her feet, when she saw him, and stood till he was seated. Presently, his two children, Zoulmekan and Nuzbet ez Zeman, came to him, and he kissed them and hung a jewel round each one's neck, at which they rejoiced and kissed his hands. Then they went to their mother, who rejoiced in them and wished the King long life; and he said to her, "Why hast thou not told me, all this time, that thou art King Afridoun's daughter, that I might have advanced thee and enlarged thee in dignity and used thee with increase of honour and consideration?" "O King," replied Sufiyeh, "what could I desire greater or more exalted than this my standing with thee, overwhelmed as I am with thy favours and thy goodness? And God to boot hath blessed me by thee with two children, a son and a daughter." Her answer pleased the King and he set apart for her and her children a splendid palace. Moreover, he appointed for their service eunuchs and attendants and doctors and sages and astrologers and physicians and surgeons and in every way redoubled in favour and munificence towards them. Nevertheless, he was greatly occupied with love of the princess Abrizeh and burnt with desire of her night and day; and every night, he would go in to her, and talk with her and pay his court to her, but she gave him no answer, saying only, "O King of the age, I have no desire for men at this present." When he saw that she repelled him, his passion and longing increased till, at last, when he was weary of this, he called his Vizier Dendan and opening his heart to him, told him how love for the princess Abrizeh was killing him and how she refused to yield to his wishes and he could get nothing of her. Quoth the Vizier, "As soon as it is dark night, do thou take a piece of henbane, the bigness of a diner, and go in to her and drink wine with her. When the hour of leave-taking draws near, fill a last cup and dropping the henbane in it, give it to her to drink, and she will not reach her sleeping chamber, ere the drug take effect on her. Then do thou go in to her and take thy will of her." "Thy counsel is good," said the King, and going to his treasury, took thence a piece of concentrated henbane, which if an elephant smelt, he would sleep from year to year. He put it in his bosom and waited till some little of the night was past, when he betook himself to the palace of the princess, who rose to receive him; but he bade her sit down. So she sat down, and he by her, and he began to talk with her of drinking, whereupon she brought the table of wine and set it before him. Then she set on the drinking-vessels, and lighted the candles and called for fruits and confections and sweetmeats and all that pertains to drinking. So they fell to drinking and ceased not to carouse, till drunkenness crept into the princess's head. When the King saw this, he took out the piece of henbane and holding it between his fingers, filled a cup and drank it off; then filled another cup, into which he dropped the henbane, unseen of Abrizeh, and saying, "Thy health!" presented it to her. She took it and drank it off; then rose and went to her sleeping-chamber. He waited awhile, till he was assured that the drug had taken effect on her and gotten the mastery of her senses, when he went in to her and found her lying on her back, with a lighted candle at her head and another at her feet. She had put off her trousers, and the air raised the skirt of her shift and discovered what was between her thighs. When the King saw this, he took leave of his senses for desire and Satan tempted him and he could not master himself, but put off his trousers and fell upon her and did away her maidenhead. Then he went out and said to one of her women, by name Merjaneh, "Go in to thy mistress, for she calls for thee." So she went in to the princess and found her lying on her back, with the blood running down her thighs; whereupon she took a handkerchief and wiped away the blood and tended her mistress and lay by her that night. As soon as it was day, she washed the princess's hands and feet and bathed her face and mouth with rose-water, whereupon she sneezed and yawned and cast up the henbane. Then she revived and washed her hands and mouth and said to Merjaneh, "Tell me what has befallen me." So she told her what had passed and how she had found her, lying on her back, with the blood running down her thighs, wherefore she knew that the King had played the traitor with her and had undone her and taken his will of her. At this she was afflicted and shut herself up, saying to her damsels, "Let no one come in to me and say to all that I am ill, till I see what God will do with me." The news of her illness came to the King, and he sent her cordials and sherbet of sugar and confections. Some months passed thus, during which time the King's flame subsided and his desire for her cooled, so that he abstained from her. Now she had conceived by him, and in due time, her pregnancy appeared and her belly swelled, wherefore the world was straitened upon her and she said to her maid Merjaneh, "Know that it is not the folk who have wronged me, but I who sinned against myself in that I left my father and mother and country. Indeed, I abhor life, for my heart is broken and I have neither courage nor strength left. I used, when I mounted my horse, to have the mastery of him, but now I have no strength to ride. If I be brought to bed in this place, I shall be dishonoured among my women, and every one in the palace will know that he has taken my maidenhead in the way of shame; and if I return to my father, with what face shall I meet him or have recourse to him? How well says the poet:

Wherewith shall I be comforted, that am of all bereft, To whom nor folk nor home nor friend nor dwelling-place is left?"

Quoth Merjaneh, "It is for thee to command; I will obey." And Abrizeh said, "I would fain leave this place privily, so that none shall know of me but thou, and return to my father and mother; for when flesh stinketh, there is nought for it but its own folk, and God shall do with me as He will." "It is well, O princess," replied Merjaneh. So she made ready in secret and waited awhile, till the King went out to hunt and Sherkan betook himself to certain of the fortresses to sojourn there awhile. Then she said to Merjaneh, "I wish to set out to-night, but how shall I do? For already I feel the pangs of labour, and if I abide other four or five days, I shall be brought to bed here, and how then can I go to my country? But this is what was written on my forehead." Then she considered awhile and said, "Look us out a man who will go with us and serve us by the way, for I have no strength to bear arms." "By Allah, O my lady," replied Merjaneh, "I know none but a black slave called Ghezban, who is one of the slaves of King Omar ben Ennuman; he is a stout fellow and keeps guard at the gate of our palace. The King appointed him to attend us, and indeed we have overwhelmed him with favours. I will go out and speak with him of the matter and promise him money and tell him that, if he have a mind to tarry with us, we will marry him to whom he will. He told me before to-day that he had been a highwayman; so if he consent, we shall have our desire and come to our own country." "Call him, that I may talk with him," said the princess. So Merjaneh went out and said to the slave, "O Ghezban, God prosper thee, do thou fall in with what my lady says to thee." Then she took him by the hand and brought him to Abrizeh. He kissed the princess's hands and when she saw him, her heart took fright at him, but she said to herself, "Necessity is imperious," and to him, "O Ghezban, wilt thou help us against the perfidies of fortune and keep my secret, if I discover it to thee?" When the slave saw her, his heart was taken by storm and he fell in love with her forthright, and could not choose but answer, "O my mistress, whatsoever thou biddest me do, I will not depart from it." Quoth she, "I would have thee take me and this my maid and saddle us two camels and two of the king's horses and set on each horse a saddle-bag of stuff and somewhat of victual, and go with us to our own country; where, if thou desire to abide with us, I will marry thee to her thou shalt choose of my damsels; or if thou prefer to return to thine own country, we will send thee thither, with as much money as will content thee." When Ghezban heard this, he rejoiced greatly and replied, "O my lady, I will serve thee faithfully and will go at once and saddle the horses." Then he went away, rejoicing and saying in himself, "I shall get my will of them; and if they will not yield to me, I will kill them and take their riches." But this his intent he kept to himself and presently returned, mounted on one horse and leading other two and two camels. He brought the horses to the princess, who mounted one and made Merjaneh mount the other, albeit she was suffering from the pains of labour and could scarce possess herself for anguish. Then they set out and journeyed night and day through the passes of the mountains, till there remained but a day's journey between them and their own country, when the pangs of travail came upon Abrizeh and she could no longer sit her horse. So she said to Ghezban, "Set me down, for the pains of labour are upon me," and cried to Merjaneh, saying, "Do thou alight and sit down by me and deliver me." They both drew rein and dismounting from their horses, helped the princess to alight, and she aswoon for stress of pain. When Ghezban saw her on the ground, Satan entered into him and he drew his sabre and brandishing it in her face, said, "O my lady, vouchsafe me thy favours." With this, she turned to him and said, "It were a fine thing that I should yield to black slaves, after having I refused kings and princes!" And she was wroth with him and said, "What words are these? Out on thee! Do not talk thus in my presence and know that I will never consent to what thou sayst, though I drink the cup of death. Wait till I have cast my burden and am delivered of the after-birth, and after, if thou be able thereto, do with me as thou wilt; but, an thou leave not lewd talk at this time, I will slay myself and leave the world and be at peace from all this." And she recited the following verses:

O Ghezban, unhand me and let me go freer Sure, fortune is heavy
     enough upon me.
My Lord hath forbidden me whoredom. "The fire Shall be the
     transgressor's last dwelling," quoth He:
So look not on me with the eye of desire, For surely to lewdness
     I may not agree;
And if thou respect not mine honour and God Nor put away filthy
     behaviour from thee,
I will call with my might on the men of my tribe And draw them
     ail hither from upland and lea.
Were I hewn, limb from limb, with the Yemani sword, Yet never a
     lecher my visage should see
Of the freeborn and mighty; so how then should I Let a whoreson
     black slave have possession of me?

When Ghezban heard this, he was exceeding angry; his eyes grew bloodshot and his face became of the colour of dust; his nostrils swelled, his lips protruded and the terrors of his aspect redoubled. And he repeated the following verses:

Abrizeh, have mercy nor leave me to sigh, Who am slain by the
     glance of thy Yemani eye![FN#19]
My body is wasted, my patience at end, And my heart for thy
     cruelty racked like to die.
Thy glances with sorcery ravish all hearts; My reason is distant
     and passion is nigh.
Though thou drewst to thy succour the world full of troops, I'd
     not stir till my purpose accomplished had I.

Thereupon Abrizeh wept sore and said to him, "Out on thee, O Ghezban! How darest thou demand this of me, O son of shame and nursling of lewdness? Dost thou think all folk are alike!" When the pestilent slave heard this, he was enraged and his eyes reddened: and he came up to her and smote her with the sword on her neck and killed her. Then he made off into the mountains, driving her horse before him with the treasure. In the agonies of death, she gave birth to a son, like the moon, and Merjaneh took him and laid him by her side, after doing him the necessary offices; and behold, the child fastened to its mother's breast, and she dead. When Merjaneh saw this, she cried out grievously and rent her clothes and cast dust on her head and buffeted her cheeks, till the blood came, saying, "Alas, my mistress! Alas, the pity of it! Thou art dead by the hand of a worthless black slave, after all thy prowess!" As she sat weeping, there arose a great cloud of dust and darkened the plain; but, after awhile, it lifted and discovered a numerous army. Now this was the army of King Herdoub, the princess Abrizeh's father, who, hearing that his daughter had fled to Baghdad, she and her maidens, and that they were with King Omar ben Ennuman, had come out with his troops to seek tidings of her from travellers who might have seen her with King Omar at Baghdad. When he had gone a day's journey from his capital, he espied three horsemen afar off and made towards them, thinking to ask whence they came and seek news of his daughter. Now these three were his daughter and Merjaneh and Ghezban; and when the latter saw the troops drawing near, he feared for himself; so he killed Abrizeh and fled. When they came up and King Herdoub saw his daughter lying dead and Merjaneh weeping over her, he threw himself from his horse and fell down in a swoon. So all his company dismounted and pitching the tents, set up a great pavilion for the King, without which stood the grandees of the kingdom. At the sight of her lord the King, Merjaneh's tears redoubled, and when he came to himself, he questioned her and she told him all that had passed, how he that had slain his daughter was a black slave, belonging to King Omar ben Ennuman, and how the latter had dealt with the princess. When King Herdoub heard this, the world grew black in his sight and he wept sore. Then he called for a litter and laying his dead daughter therein, returned to Caesarea and carried her into the palace. Then he went in to his mother Dhat ed Dewahi and said to her, "Shall the Muslims deal thus with my daughter? King Omar ben Ennuman despoiled her by force of her honour and after this, one of his black slaves slew her. By the Messiah, I will assuredly be revenged for her and clear away the stain from my honour! Else I shall kill myself with my own hand." And he wept passing sore. Quoth his mother, "It was none other than Merjaneh killed her, for she hated her in secret. But do not thou fret for taking revenge for thy daughter, for, by the virtue of the Messiah, I will not turn back from King Omar ben Ennuman, till I have slain him and his sons; and I will assuredly do a deed, passing the power of wise men and champions, of which the chroniclers shall tell in all countries and places: but needs must thou obey me in all I shall direct, for he who is firmly set on aught shall surely compass his desire." "By the virtue of the Messiah," replied he, "I will not cross thee in aught that thou shalt say!" Then said she, "Bring me a number of damsels, high-bosomed maids, and summon the wise men of the time and let them teach them philosophy and the art of conversation and making verses and the rules of behaviour before kings, and let them talk with them of all manner of science and edifying knowledge. The sages must be Muslims, that they may teach the damsels the language and traditions of the Arabs, together with the history of the Khalifs and the pedigree of the Kings of Islam; and if we persevere in this for the space of four years, we shall attain our end. So possess thy soul in patience and wait; for, as one of the Arabs says, 'It is a little thing to wait forty years for one's revenge.' When we have taught the girls these things, we shall be able to do our will with our enemy, for he is a doting lover of women and has three hundred and threescore concubines, to which are now added a hundred of the flower of thy damsels, that were with thy late daughter. So, as soon as we have made an end of their education, I will take them and set out with them." When the King heard his mother's words, he rejoiced and came up to her and kissed her head. Then he rose at once and despatched messengers and couriers to the ends of the earth, to fetch him Muslim sages. So they betook them to distant lands and brought him thence the sages and doctors whom he sought. When they were before him, he made much of them and bestowed on them dresses of honour, appointing them stipends and allowances and promising them much money, whenas they should have taught the damsels. Then he committed the latter to their charge, enjoining them to instruct them in all manner of knowledge, sacred and profane, and all polite accomplishments; and they set themselves to do his bidding.

As for King Omar ben Ennuman, when he returned from hunting, he sought the princess Abrizeh, but found her not nor could any give him news of her. This was grievous to him and he said, "How did she leave the palace, unknown of any? Had my kingdom been at stake in this, it were in a parlous case! Never again will I go a-hunting till I have sent to the gates those who shall keep good guard over them!" And he was sore vexed and heavy at heart for the loss of the princess Abrizeh. Presently, his son Sherkan returned from his journey; and he told him what had happened and how the princess had fled, whilst he was absent a-hunting, whereat he was greatly concerned. Then King Omar took to visiting his children every day and making much of them and brought them wise men and doctors, to teach them, appointing them stipends and allowances. When Sherkan saw this, he was exceeding wroth and jealous of his brother and sister, so that the signs of chagrin appeared in his face and he ceased not to languish by reason of this, till one day his father said to him, "What ails thee, that I see thee grown weak in body and pale of face?" "O my father," replied Sherkan, "every time I see thee fondle my brother and sister and make much of them, jealousy seizes on me, and I fear lest it grow on me, till I slay them and thou slay me in return. This is the reason of my weakness of body and change of colour. But now I crave of thy favour that thou give me one of thine outlying fortresses, that I may abide there the rest of my life, for as the byword says, 'It is better and fitter for me to be at a distance from my friend; for when the eye seeth not, the heart doth not grieve.'" And he bowed his head. When the King heard Sherkan's words and knew the cause of his ailment, he soothed him and said to him, "O my son, I grant thee this. I have not in my realm a greater than the fortress of Damascus, and the government of it is thine from this time." So saying, he called his secretaries of state and bade them make out Sherkan's patent of investiture to the viceroyalty of Damascus of Syria. Then he equipped Sherkan and formally invested him with the office and gave him his final instructions, enjoining him to policy and good government; and the prince took leave of his father and the grandees and officers of state and set out for his government, taking with him the Vizier Dendan. When he arrived at Damascus, the townspeople beat the drums and blew the trumpets and decorated the city and came out to meet him in great state, whilst all the notables and grandees walked in procession, each according to his rank.

Soon after Sherkan's departure, the governors of King Omar's children presented themselves before him and said to him, "O our lord, thy children's education is now complete and they are versed in all polite accomplishments and in the rules of manners and etiquette." At this the King rejoiced with an exceeding joy and conferred bountiful largesse upon the wise men, seeing Zoulmekan grown up and flourishing and skilled in horsemanship. The prince had now reached the age of fourteen and occupied himself with piety and devout exercises, loving the poor and wise men and the students of the Koran, so that all the people of Baghdad loved him, men and women. One day, the procession of the Mehmil[FN#20] of Irak passed round Baghdad, previously to the departure of the pilgrimage to the holy places[FN#21] and tomb of the Prophet.[FN#22] When Zoulmekan saw the procession, he was seized with longing to go on the pilgrimage; so he went in to his father and said to him, "I come to ask thy leave to make the pilgrimage."

But his father forbade him, saying, "Wait till next year, and I will go with thee." When Zoulmekan saw that the fulfilment of his desire was postponed, he betook himself to his sister Nuzhet ez Zeman, whom he found standing at prayer. As soon as she had made an end of her devotions, he said to her, "I am dying of desire to see the Holy House of God at Mecca and to visit the Prophet's tomb. I asked my father's leave, but he forbade me: so I mean to take somewhat of money and set out privily on the pilgrimage, without his knowledge." "I conjure thee by Allah," exclaimed she, "to take me with thee and that thou forbid me not to visit the tomb of the Prophet, whom God bless and preserve!" And he answered, "As soon as it is dark night, do thou leave this place, without telling any, and come to me." Accordingly, she waited till the middle of the night, when she donned a man's habit and went to the gate of the palace, where she found Zoulmekan with camels ready harnessed. So they mounted and riding after the caravan, mingled with the Irak pilgrims, and God decreed them a prosperous journey, so that they entered Mecca the Holy in safety, standing upon Arafat and performing the various rites of the pilgrimage. Then they paid a visit to the tomb of the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve) and thought to return with the pilgrims to their native land; but Zoulmekan said to his sister, "O my sister, it is in my mind to visit Jerusalem and the tomb of Abraham the friend of God (on whom be peace)." "I also desire to do this," replied she. So they agreed upon this, and he went out and took passage for himself and her and they made ready and set out with a company of pilgrims bound for Jerusalem. That very night she fell sick of an ague and was grievously ill, but presently recovered, after which her brother also sickened. She tended him during the journey, but the fever increased on him and he grew weaker and weaker, till they arrived at Jerusalem, where they alighted at a khan and hired a lodging there. Here they abode some time, whilst Zoulmekan's weakness increased on him, till he was wasted with sickness and became delirious. At this, his sister was greatly afflicted and exclaimed, "There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme! It is He who hath decreed this." They sojourned there awhile, his sickness ever increasing and she tending him, till all their money was spent and she had not so much as a dirhem left. Then she sent a servant of the khan to the market, to sell some of her clothes, and spent the price upon her brother; and so she sold all she had, piece by piece, till she had nothing left but an old rug; whereupon she wept and exclaimed, "God is the Orderer of the past and the future!" Presently, her brother said to her, "O my sister, I feel recovery drawing near and I long for a little roast meat." "O my brother," replied she, "I am ashamed to beg; but tomorrow I will enter some rich man's house and serve him and earn somewhat for our living." Then she bethought herself awhile and said, "It is hard to me to leave thee and thou in this state, but I must perforce go." "God forbid!" rejoined he. "Thou wilt be put to shame; but there is no power and no virtue but in God!" And he wept and she wept too. Then she said, "O my brother, we are strangers and this whole year have we dwelt here; yet none hath knocked at our door. Shall we then die of hunger? I know no resource but that I go out and earn somewhat to keep us alive, till thou recover from thy sickness; when we will return to our native land." She sat weeping with him awhile, after which she rose and veiling her head with a camel-cloth, which the owner had forgotten with them, embraced her brother and went forth, weeping and knowing not whither she should go. Zoulmekan abode, awaiting her return, till the evening; but she came not, and the night passed and the morning came, but still she returned not; and so two days went by. At this he was greatly troubled and his heart fluttered for her, and hunger was sore upon him. At last he left the chamber and calling the servant of the inn, bade him carry him to the bazaar. So he carried him to the market and laid him down there; and the people of Jerusalem came round him and were moved to tears at his condition. He signed to them for somewhat to eat; so they took money from some of the merchants and bought food and fed him therewith; after which they carried him to a shop, where they laid him on a mat of palm-leaves and set a vessel of water at his head. At nightfall, they all went away, sore concerned for him, and in the middle of the night, he called to mind his sister, and his sickness redoubled on him, so that he abstained from eating and drinking and became insensible. When the people of the market saw him thus, they took thirty dirhems for him from the merchants and hiring a camel, said to the driver, "Carry this sick man to Damascus and leave him at the hospital; peradventure he may be cured and recover his health." "On my head be it!" replied he; but he said to himself, "How shall I take this sick man to Damascus, and he nigh upon death?" So he carried him away and hid with him till the night, when he threw him down on the fuel-heap in the stoke-hole of a bath and went his way. In the morning, the stoker of the bath came to his work and finding Zoulmekan cast on his back on the fuel-heap, exclaimed, "Could they find no other place in which to throw this dead man?" So saying, he gave him a push with his foot, and he moved, whereupon quoth the stoker, "This is some one who has eaten hashish and thrown himself down at hazard." Then he looked at him and saw that he had no hair on his face and was endowed with grace and comeliness; so he took pity on him and knew that he was sick and a stranger. "There is no power and no virtue but in God!" said he "I have sinned against this youth; for indeed the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve!) enjoins hospitality to strangers." Then he lifted him up and carrying him to his own house, committed him to his wife and bade her tend him. So she spread him a bed and laid a cushion under his head, then heated water and washed his hands and feet and face. Meanwhile, the stoker went to the market and buying rose-water and sherbet of sugar, sprinkled Zoulmekan's face with the one and gave him to drink of the other. Then he fetched a clean shirt and put it on him. With this, Zoulmekan scented the breeze of recovery and life returned to him; and he sat up and leant against the pillow. At this the stoker rejoiced and exclaimed, "O my God, I beseech Thee, by Thy hidden mysteries, make the salvation of this youth to be at my hands!" And he nursed him assiduously for three days, giving him to drink of sherbet of sugar and willow-flower water and rose-water and doing him all manner of service and kindness, till health began to return to his body and he opened his eyes and sat up. Presently the stoker came in and seeing him sitting up and showing signs of amendment, said to him, "How dost thou now, O my son?" "Thanks be to God," replied Zoulmekan, "I am well and like to recover, if so He please." The stoker praised the Lord of All for this and going to the market, bought ten chickens, which he carried to his wife and said to her, "Kill two of these for him every day, one in the morning and the other at nightfall." So she rose and killed a fowl, then boiling it, brought it to him and fed him with the flesh and gave him the broth to drink. When he had done eating, she brought hot water and he washed his hands and lay back upon the pillow; whereupon she covered him up and he slept till the time of afternoon-prayer. Then she killed another fowl and boiled it; after which she cut it up and bringing it to Zoulmekan, said, "Eat, O my son!" Presently, her husband entered and seeing her feeding him, sat down at his head and said to him, "How is it with thee now, O my son?" "Thanks be to God for recovery!" replied he. "May He requite thee thy goodness to me!" At this the stoker rejoiced and going out, bought sherbet of violets and rose-water and made him drink it. Now his day's earnings at the bath were five dirhems, of which he spent every day two dirhems for Zoulmekan, one for sweet waters and sherbets and another for fowls; and he ceased not to entreat him thus kindly for a whole month, till the trace of illness ceased from him and he was quite recovered whereupon the stoker and his wife rejoiced and the former said to him, "O my son, wilt thou go with me to the bath?" "Willingly," replied he. So the stoker went to the market and fetched an ass, on which he mounted Zoulmekan and supported him in the saddle, till they came to the bath Then he made him alight and sit down, whilst he repaired to the market and bought lote-leaves and lupin-meal,[FN#23] with which he returned to the bath and said to Zoulmekan, "O my son, in the name of God, enter, and I will wash thy body." So they both entered the inner room of the bath, and the stoker fell to rubbing Zoulmekan's legs and was going on to wash his body with the lote-leaves and powder, when there came to them a bathman, whom the keeper of the bath had sent to Zoulmekan, and seeing the stoker rubbing and washing the latter, said to him, "This is trespassing on the keeper's rights." "By Allah," replied the stoker, "the master overwhelms us with his favours!" Then the bathman proceeded to shave Zoulmekan's head, after which he and the stoker washed and returned to the latter's house, where he clad Zoulmekan in a shirt of fine stuff and a tunic of his own and gave him a handsome turban and girdle and wound a silken kerchief about his neck. Meanwhile the stoker's wife had killed two chickens and cooked them for him; so, as soon as Zoulmekan entered and seated himself on the couch, the stoker arose and dissolving sugar in willow-flower water, made him drink it. Then he brought the tray of food and cutting up the chickens, fed him with the meat and broth, till he was satisfied, when he washed his hands and praised God for recovery, saying to the stoker, "It is to thee, under God the Most High, that I owe my life!" "Leave this talk," replied the stoker, "and tell us the manner of thy coming to this city and whence thou art; for I see signs of gentle breeding in thy face." "Tell me first how thou camest to fall in with me," said Zoulmekan; "and after I will tell thee my story." "As for that," rejoined the stoker, "I found thee lying on the rubbish-heap, by the door of the stoke-house, as I went to my work, near the morning, and knew not who had thrown thee down there. So I carried thee home with me; and this all I have to tell." Quoth Zoulmekan, "Glory to Him who quickens the bones, though they be rotten! Indeed, O my brother, thou hast not done good to one who is unworthy, and thou shalt reap the reward of this. But where am I now?" "In the city of Jerusalem," replied the stoker; whereupon Zoulmekan called to mind his strangerhood and his separation from his sister and wept. Then he discovered his secret to the stoker and told him his story, repeating the following verses:

They heaped up passion on my soul, beyond my strength to bear,
     And for their sake my heart is racked with weariness and
     care.
Ah, be ye pitiful to me, O cruel that ye are, For e'en my foes do
     pity me, since you away did fare!
Grudge not to grant unto mine eyes a passing glimpse of you, To
     ease the longing of my soul and lighten my despair.
I begged my heart to arm itself with patience for your loss.
     "Patience was never of my wont," it answered; "so forbear."

Then he redoubled his weeping, and the stoker said to him, "Weep not, but rather praise God for safety and recovery." Quoth Zoulmekan, "How far is it hence to Damascus?" "Six days' journey," answered the stoker "Wilt thou send me thither?" asked Zoulmekan. "O my lord," replied the stoker, "how can I let thee go alone, and thou a young lad and a stranger? If thou be minded to make the journey to Damascus, I will go with thee; and if my wife will listen to me and accompany me, I will take up my abode there; for it goes to my heart to part with thee." Then said he to his wife, "Wilt thou go with me to Damascus or wilt thou abide here, whilst I bring this my lord thither and return to thee? For he is bent upon, going to Damascus, and by Allah, it is hard to me to part with him, and I fear for him from the highway robbers." Quoth she, "I will go with you." And he said, "Praised be God for accord!" Then he rose and selling all his own and his wife's gear, bought a camel and hired an ass for Zoulmekan; and they set out and reached Damascus at nightfall after six days' journey. They alighted there, and the stoker went to the market and bought meat and drink. They had dwelt but five days in Damascus, when his wife sickened and after a few days' illness, was translated to the mercy of God. The stoker mourned for her with an exceeding grief, and her death was no light matter to Zoulmekan, for she had tended him assiduously and he was grown used to her. Presently, he turned to the stoker and finding him mourning, said to him, "Do not grieve, for we must all go in at this gate."[FN#24] "God requite thee with good, O my son!" replied the stoker. "Surely He will compensate us with his bounties and cause our mourning to cease. What sayst thou, O my son? Shall we walk abroad to view Damascus and cheer our spirits?" "Thy will is mine," replied Zoulmekan. So the stoker took him by the hand, and they sallied forth and walked on, till they came to the stables of the Viceroy of Damascus, where they found camels laden with chests and carpets and brocaded stuffs and saddle-horses and Bactrian camels and slaves, white and black, and folk running to and fro and a great bustle. Quoth Zoulmekan, "I wonder to whom all these camels and stuffs and servants belong!" So he asked one of the slaves, and he replied, "These are presents that the Viceroy of Damascus is sending to King Omar ben Ennuman, with the tribute of Syria." When Zoulmekan heard his father's name, his eyes filled with tears and he repeated the following verses:

Ye that are far removed from my desireful sight, Ye that within
     my heart are sojourners for aye,
Your comeliness is gone and life no more for me Is sweet, nor
     will the pains of longing pass away.
If God one day decree reunion of our loves, How long a tale of
     woes my tongue will have to say!

Then he wept and the stoker said to him, "O my son, thou art hardly yet recovered; so take heart and do not weep, for I fear a relapse for thee." And he applied himself to comfort him and cheer him, whilst Zoulmekan sighed and bemoaned his strangerhood and separation from his sister and his family and repeated the following verses, with tears streaming from his eyes:

Provide thee for the world to come, for needs must thou be gone;
     Or soon or late, for every one the lot of death is drawn.
Thy fortune in this world is but delusion and regret; Thy life in
     it but vanity and empty chaff and awn.
The world, indeed, is but as 'twere a traveller's halting-place,
     Who makes his camels kneel at eve and fares on with the
     dawn.

And he continued to weep and lament, whilst the stoker wept too for the loss of his wife, yet ceased not to comfort Zoulmekan till the morning. When the sun rose, he said to him, "Meseems thou yearnest for thy native land?" "Even so," replied Zoulmekan, "and I may not tarry here; so I will commend thee to God's care and set out with these people and journey with them, little by little, till I come to my country." "And I with thee," said the stoker; "for I cannot bear to part with thee. I have done thee service, and I mean to complete it by tending thee on the way." At this, Zoulmekan rejoiced and said, "May God abundantly requite thee for me!" Then the stoker went out and selling the camel, bought another ass, which he brought to Zoulmekan, saying, "This is for thee to ride by the way; and when thou art weary of riding, thou canst dismount and walk." "May God bless thee and help me to requite thee!" said Zoulmekan. "Indeed, thou hast dealt with me more lovingly than one with his brother." Then the stoker provided himself with victual for the journey, and they waited till it was dark night, when they laid their provisions and baggage on the ass and set out on their journey.

To return to Nuzhet ez Zeman, when she left her brother in the khan and went out to seek service with some one, that she might earn wherewith to buy him the roast meat he longed for, she fared on, weeping and knowing not whither to go, whilst her mind was occupied with concern for her brother and with thoughts of her family and her native land. And she implored God the Most High to do away these afflictions from them and repeated the following verses:

The shadows darken and passion stirs up my sickness amain, And
     longing rouses within me the old desireful pain.
The anguish of parting hath taken its sojourn in my breast, And
     love and longing and sorrow have maddened heart and brain.
Passion hath made me restless and longing consumes my soul And
     tears discover the secret that else concealed had lain.
I know of no way to ease me of sickness and care and woe, Nor can
     my weak endeavour reknit love's severed skein.
The fire of my heart with yearnings and longing grief is fed And
     for its heat, the lover to live in hell is fain.
O thou that thinkest to blame me for what betides me, enough; God
     knows I suffer with patience whate'er He doth ordain.
I swear I shall ne'er find solace nor be consoled for love, The
     oath of the children of passion, whose oaths are ne'er in
     vain!
Bear tidings of me, I prithee, O night, to the bards of love And
     that in thee I sleep not be witness yet again!

She walked on, weeping and turning right and left, as she went, till there espied her an old man who had come into the town from the desert with other five Bedouins. He took note of her and seeing that she was charming, but had nothing on her head but a piece of camel-cloth, marvelled at her beauty and said in himself, "This girl is pretty enough to dazzle the wit, but it is clear she is in poor case, and whether she be of the people of the city or a stranger, I must have her." So he followed her, little by little, till presently he came in front of her and stopping the way before her in a narrow lane, called out to her, saying, "Harkye, daughterling, art thou a freewoman or a slave?" When she heard this, she said to him, "By thy life, do not add to my troubles! "Quoth he, "God blessed me with six daughters, but five of them died and only one is left me, the youngest of them all; and I came to ask thee if thou wert of the people of this city or a stranger, that I might take thee and carry thee to her, to bear her company and divert her from mourning for her sisters, If thou hast no parents, I will use thee as one of them, and thou and she shall be as my two children." When she heard what he said, she bowed her head for bashfulness and said to herself, "Surely I may trust myself to this old man." Then she said to him, "O uncle, I am a girl of the Arabs (of Irak) and a stranger, and I have a sick brother; but I will go with thee to thy daughter on one condition; that is, that I may spend the day only with her and go to my brother at night. I am a stranger and was high in honour among my people, yet am I become cast down and abject. I came with my brother from the land of Hejaz and I fear lest he know not where I am." When the Bedouin heard this, he said to himself, "By Allah, I have gotten what I sought!" Then he turned to her and said, "There shall none be dearer to me than thou; I only wish thee to bear my daughter company by day, and thou shalt go to thy brother at nightfall. Or, if thou wilt, bring him to dwell with us." And he ceased not to give her fair words and coax her, till she trusted in him and agreed to serve him. Then he went on before her and she followed him, whilst he winked to his men to go on in advance and harness the camels and load them with food and water, ready for setting out as soon as he should come up. Now this Bedouin was a base-born wretch, a highway-robber and a brigand, a traitor to his friend and a past master in craft and roguery. He had no daughter and no son, and was but a wayfarer in Jerusalem, when, by the decree of God, he fell in with this unhappy girl. He held her in converse till they came without the city, where he joined his companions and found they had made ready the camels. So he mounted a camel, taking Nuzhet ez Zeman up behind him, and they rode on all night, making for the mountains, for fear any should see them. By this, she knew that the Bedouin's proposal was a snare and that he had tricked her; and she gave not over weeping and crying out the whole night long. A little before the dawn, they halted and the Bedouin came up to Nuzhet ez Zeman and said to her, "O wretch, what is this weeping! By Allah, an thou hold not thy peace, I will beat thee to death, city faggot that thou art!" When she heard this, she abhorred life and longed for death; so she turned to him and said, "O accursed old man, O greybeard of hell, did I trust in thee and hast thou played me false, and now thou wouldst torture me?" When he heard her words, he cried out, "O insolent wretch, dost thou dare to bandy words with me?" And he came up to her and beat her with a whip, saying, "An thou hold not thy peace, I will kill thee." So she was silent awhile, but she called to mind her brother and her former happy estate and wept in secret. Next day, she turned to the Bedouin and said to him, "How couldst thou deal thus perfidiously with me and lure me into these desert mountains, and what wilt thou do with me?" When he heard her words, he hardened his heart and said to her, "O pestilent baggage, wilt thou bandy words with me?" So saying, he took the whip and brought it down on her back, till she well-nigh fainted. Then she bowed down and kissed his feet; and he left beating her and began to revile her, saying, "By my bonnet, if I see or hear thee weeping, I will cut out thy tongue and thrust it up thy kaze, city strumpet that thou art!" So she was silent and made him no reply, for the beating irked her; but sat down, with her arms round her knees and bowing her head, fell a-musing on her case. Then she bethought her of her former ease and affluence and her present abasement, and called to mind her brother and his sickness and forlorn condition and how they were both strangers in a foreign land; whereat the tears coursed down her cheeks and she wept silently and repeated the following verses:

The tides of fate 'twixt good and ill shift ever to and fro, And
     no estate of life for men endureth evermo'.
All things that to the world belong have each their destined end
     And to all men a term is set, which none may overgo.
How long must I oppression bear and peril and distress! Ah, how I
     loathe this life of mine, that nought but these can show!
May God not prosper them, these days, wherein I am oppressed of
     Fate, these cruel days that add abjection to my woe!
My purposes are brought to nought, my loves are reft in twain By
     exile's rigour, and my hopes are one and all laid low.
O ye, who pass the dwelling by, wherein my dear ones are, Bear
     them the news of me and say, my tears for ever flow.

When she had finished, the Bedouin came up to her and taking compassion on her, bespoke her kindly and wiped away her tears. Then he gave her a cake of barley-bread and said to her, "I do not love to be answered, when I am angry: so henceforth give me no more of these insolent words, and I will sell thee to an honest fellow like myself, who will use thee well, even as I have done." "It is well," answered she; and when the night was long upon her and hunger gnawed her, she ate a little of the barley-cake. In the middle of the night, the Bedouin gave the signal for departure; so they loaded the camels and he mounted one of them, taking Nuzhet ez Zeman up behind him. Then they set out and journeyed, without stopping, for three days, till they reached the city of Damascus, where they alighted at the Sultan's khan, hard by the Viceroy's Gate. Now she had lost her colour and her charms were changed by grief and the fatigue of the journey, and she ceased not to weep. So the Bedouin came up to her and said, "Hark ye, city wench! By my bonnet, an thou leave not this weeping, I will sell thee to a Jew!" Then he took her by the hand and carried her to a chamber, where he left her and went to the bazaar. Here he went round to the merchants who dealt in slave-girls and began to parley with them, saying, "I have with me a slave-girl, whose brother fell ill, and I sent him to my people at Jerusalem, that they might tend him till he was cured. The separation from him was grievous to her, and since then, she does nothing but weep. Now I purpose to sell her, and I would fain have whoso is minded to buy her of me speak softly to her and say to her, 'Thy brother is with me in Jerusalem, ill;' and I will be easy with him about her price." Quoth one of the merchants, "How old is she?" "She is a virgin, just come to the age of puberty," replied the Bedouin, "and is endowed with sense and breeding and wit and beauty and grace. But from the day I sent her brother to Jerusalem, she has done nothing but grieve for him, so that her beauty is fallen away and her value lessened." When the merchant heard this, he said, "O chief of the Arabs, I will go with thee and buy this girl of thee, if she be as thou sayest for wit and beauty and accomplishments; but it must be upon conditions, which if thou accept, I will pay thee her price, and if not, I will return her to thee." "If thou wilt," said the Bedouin, "take her up to Prince Sherkan, son of King Omar ben Ennuman, lord of Baghdad and of the land of Khorassan, and I will agree to whatever conditions thou mayst impose on me; for when he sees her, she will surely please him, and he will pay thee her price and a good profit to boot for thyself." "It happens," rejoined the merchant, "that I have just now occasion to go to him, that I may get him to sign me patent, exempting me from customs-dues, and I desire of him also a letter of recommendation to his father King Omar. So, if he take the girl, I will pay thee down her price at once." "I agree to this," answered the Bedouin. So they returned together to the khan, where the Bedouin stood at the door of the girl's chamber and called out, saying, "Ho, Najiyeh!" which was the name he had given her. When she heard him, she wept and made no answer. Then he turned to the merchant and said to him, "There she sits. Do thou go up to her and look at her and speak kindly to her, as I enjoined thee." So he went up to her courteously and saw that she was wonder-lovely and graceful especially as she was acquainted with the Arabic tongue; and he said to the Bedouin, "Verily she is even as thou saidst, and I shall get of the Sultan what I will for her." Then he said to her, "Peace be on thee, O daughterling! How dost thou?" She turned to him and replied, "This was written in the book of Destiny." Then she looked at him and seeing him to be a man of reverend appearance, with a handsome face, said to herself, "I believe this man comes to buy me. If I hold aloof from him, I shall abide with this tyrant, and he will beat me to death. In any case, this man is comely of face and makes me hope for better treatment from him than from this brute of a Bedouin. Mayhap he only comes to hear me talk; so I will give him a fair answer." All this while, she had kept her eyes fixed on the ground; then she raised them to him and said in a sweet voice, "And upon thee be peace, O my lord, and the mercy of God and His blessing! This is what is commanded of the Prophet, whom God bless and preserve! As for thine enquiry how I do, if thou wouldst know my condition, it is such as thou wouldst not wish but to thine enemies." And she was silent. When the merchant heard what she said, he was beside himself for delight in her and turning to the Bedouin, said to him, "What is her price, for indeed she is illustrious!" At this the Bedouin was angry and said, "Thou wilt turn me the girl's head with this talk! Why dost thou say that she is illustrious,[FN#25] for all she is of the scum of slave-girls and of the refuse of the people? I will not sell her to thee." When the merchant heard this, he knew he was dull-witted and said to him, "Calm thyself, for I will buy her of thee, notwithstanding the defects thou mentionest." "And how much wilt thou give me for her?" asked the Bedouin "None should name the child but its father," replied the merchant. "Name thy price for her." "Not so," rejoined the Bedouin; "do thou say what thou wilt give." Quoth the merchant in himself, "This Bedouin is an addle-pated churl. By Allah, I cannot tell her price, for she has mastered my heart with her sweet speech and her beauty: and if she can read and write, it will be the finishing touch to her good fortune and that of her purchaser. But this Bedouin does not know her value." Then he turned to the latter and said to him, "O elder of the Arabs, I will give thee two hundred dinars for her, in cash, clear of the tax and the Sultan's dues." When the Bedouin heard this, he flew into a violent passion and cried out at the merchant, saying, "Begone about thy business! By Allah, wert thou to offer me two hundred dinars for the piece of camel-cloth on her head, I would not sell it to thee! I will not sell her, but will keep her by me, to pasture the camels and grind corn." And he cried out to her, saying, "Come, thou stinkard, I will not sell thee." Then he turned to the merchant and said to him, "I thought thee a man of judgment; but, by my bonnet, if thou begone not from me, I will let thee hear what will not please thee!" "Verily," said the merchant to himself, "this Bedouin is mad and knows not the girl's value, and I will say no more to him about her price for the present; for by Allah, were he a man of sense, he would not say, 'By my bonnet!' By Allah, she is worth the kingdom of the Chosroes and I will give him what he will, though it be all I have." Then he said to him, "O elder of the Arabs, calm thyself and take patience and tell me what clothes she has with thee." "Clothes!" cried the Bedouin; "what should the baggage want with clothes? The camel-cloth in which she is wrapped is ample for her." "With thy leave," said the merchant, "I will lift her veil and examine her as folk examine girls whom they think of buying." "Up and do what thou wilt," replied the other, "and God keep thy youth! Examine her, inside and out, and if thou wilt, take off her clothes and look at her naked." "God forbid!" said the merchant; "I will but look at her face." Then he went up to her, confounded at her beauty and grace, and seating himself by her side, said to her, "O my mistress, what is thy name?" "Dost thou ask what is my name now," said she, "or what it was formerly?" "Hast thou then two names?" asked the merchant. "Yes," replied she, "my whilom name was Nuzhet ez Zeman;[FN#26] but my name at this present is Ghusset ez Zeman."[FN#27] When the merchant heard this, his eyes filled with tears, and he said to her, "Hast thou not a sick brother?" "Indeed, my lord, I have," answered she; "but fortune hath parted us, and he lies sick in Jerusalem." The merchant's heart was confounded at the sweetness of her speech, and he said to himself, "Verily, the Bedouin spoke the truth of her." Then she called to mind her brother and how he lay sick in a strange land, whilst she was parted from him and knew not what was become of him; and she thought of all that had befallen her with the Bedouin and of her severance from her father and mother and native land; and the tears ran down her cheeks and she repeated the following verses:

May God keep watch o'er thee, belov'd, where'er thou art, Thou
     that, though far away, yet dwellest in my heart!
Where'er thy footsteps lead, may He be ever near, To guard thee
     from time's shifts and evil fortune's dart!
Thou'rt absent, and my eyes long ever for thy sight, And at thy
     thought the tears for aye unbidden start.
Would that I knew alas! what country holds thee now, In what
     abode thou dwell'st, unfriended and apart!
If thou, in the green o the rose, still drink o' the water of
     life, My drink is nought but tears, since that thou didst
     depart.
If sleep e'er visit thee, live coals of my unrest, Strewn betwixt
     couch and side, for aye my slumbers thwart
All but thy loss to me were but a little thing, But that and that
     alone is sore to me, sweetheart.

When the merchant heard her verses, he wept and put out his hand to wipe away her tears; but she let down her veil, saying, "God forbid, O my master!" The Bedouin, who was sitting at a little distance, watching them, saw her cover her face and concluded that she would have hindered him from handling her: so he rose and running to her, dealt her such a blow on the shoulders with a camel's halter he had in his hand, that she fell to the ground on her face. Her eyebrow smote against a stone, which cut it open, and the blood streamed down her face; whereupon she gave a loud scream and fainted away. The merchant was moved to tears for her and said in himself, "I must and will buy this damsel, though I pay down her weight in gold, and deliver her from this tyrant." And he began to reproach the Bedouin, whilst Nuzhet ez Zeman lay insensible. When she came to herself, she wiped away her tears and bound up her head: then, raising her eyes to heaven, she sought her Lord with a sorrowful heart and repeated the following verses:

Have ruth on one who once was rich and great, Whom villainy hath
     brought to low estate.
She weeps with never-ceasing tears and says, "There's no recourse
     against the laws of Fate."

Then she turned to the merchant and said to him, in a low voice, "By Allah, do not leave me with this tyrant, who knows not God the Most High! If I pass this night with him, I shall kill myself with my own hand: save me from him, and God will save thee from hell-fire." So the merchant said to the Bedouin, "O chief of the Arabs, this girl is none of thine affair; so do thou sell her to me for what thou wilt." "Take her," said the Bedouin, "and pay me down her price, or I will carry her back to the camp and set her to feed the camels and gather their droppings."[FN#28] Quoth the merchant, "I will give thee fifty thousand dinars for her." "God will open,"[FN#29] replied the Bedouin. "Seventy thousand," said the merchant. "God will open," repeated the other; "she hath cost me more than that, for she hath eaten barley-bread with me to the value of ninety thousand dinars." Quoth the merchant, "Thou and all thy people and thy whole tribe in all your lives have not eaten a thousand dinars' worth of barley: but I will make thee one offer, which if thou accept not, I will set the Viceroy of Damascus on thee, and he will take her from thee by force." "Say on," rejoined the Bedouin. "A hundred thousand," said the merchant. "I will sell her to thee at that price," answered the Bedouin; "I shall be able to buy salt with that." The merchant laughed and going to his house, returned with the money and gave it to the Bedouin, who took it and made off, saying, "I must go to Jerusalem: it may be I shall happen on her brother, and I will bring him here and sell him." So he mounted and journeyed to Jerusalem, where he went to the khan and enquired for Zoulmekan, but could not find him.

Meanwhile, the merchant threw his gaberdine over Nuzhet ez Zeman and carried her to his house, where he dressed her in the richest clothes he could buy. Then he carried her to the bazaar, where he bought her what jewellery she chose and put it in a bag of satin, which he laid before her, saying, "This is all for thee, and I ask nothing of thee in return but that, when thou comest to the Viceroy of Damascus, thou tell him what I gave for thee and that it was little compared with thy value: and if he buy thee, tell him how I have dealt with thee and ask of him for me a royal patent, with a recommendation to his father King Omar Ben Ennuman, lord of Baghdad, to the intent that he may forbid the taking toll on my stuffs or other goods in which I traffic." When she heard his words, she wept and sobbed, and the merchant said to her, "O my mistress, I note that, every time I mention Baghdad, thine eyes fill with tears: is there any one there whom thou lovest? If it be a merchant or the like, tell me; for I know all the merchants and so forth there; and an thou wouldst send him a message, I will carry it for thee." "By Allah," replied she, "I have no acquaintance among merchants and the like! I know none there but King Omar ben Ennuman." When the merchant heard this, he laughed and was greatly rejoiced and said in himself, "By Allah, I have gotten my desire!" Then he said to her, "Hast thou then been shown to him?" "No," answered she; "but I was brought up with his daughter and he holds me dear and I have much credit with him; so if thou wouldst have him grant thee a patent of exemption, give me ink-horn and paper, and I will write thee a letter, which, when thou reachest Baghdad, do thou deliver into the King's own hand and say to him, 'Thy handmaid Nuzhet ez Zeman salutes thee and would have thee to know that the changing chances of the nights and days have smitten her, so that she has been sold from place to place and is now with the Viceroy of Damascus.'" The merchant wondered at her eloquence and his affection for her increased and he said to her, "I cannot think but that men have abused thine understanding and sold thee for money. Tell me, dost thou know the Koran?" "I do," answered she; "and I am also acquainted with philosophy and medicine and the Prolegomena and the commentaries of Galen the physician on the Canons of Hippocrates, and I have commented him, as well as the Simples of Ibn Beltar, and have studied the works of Avicenna, according to the canon of Mecca, as well as other treatises. I can solve enigmas and establish parallels[FN#30] and discourse upon geometry and am skilled in anatomy. I have read the books of the Shafiyi[FN#31] sect and the Traditions of the Prophet, I am well read in grammar and can argue with the learned and discourse of all manner of sciences. Moreover I am skilled in logic and rhetoric and mathematics and the making of talismans and calendars and the Cabala, and I understand all these branches of knowledge thoroughly. But bring me ink-horn and paper, and I will write thee a letter that will profit thee at Baghdad and enable thee to dispense with passports." When the merchant heard this, he cried out, "Excellent! Excellent! Happy he in whose palace thou shalt be!" Then he brought her ink-horn and paper and a pen of brass and kissed the earth before her, to do her honour. She took the pen and wrote the following verses:

"What ails me that sleep hath forsaken my eyes and gone astray?
     Have you then taught them to waken, after our parting day!
How comes it your memory maketh the fire in my heart to rage?
     Is't thus with each lover remembers a dear one far away?
How sweet was the cloud of the summer, that watered our days of
     yore! 'Tis flitted, before of its pleasance my longing I
     could stay.
I sue to the wind and beg it to favour the slave of love, The
     wind that unto the lover doth news of you convey.
A lover to you complaineth, whose every helper fails. Indeed, in
     parting are sorrows would rend the rock in sway.

"These words are from her whom melancholy destroys and whom watching hath wasted; in her darkness there are no lights found, and she knows not night from day. She tosses from side to side on the couch of separation and her eyes are blackened with the pencils of sleeplessness; she watches the stars and strains her sight into the darkness: verily, sadness and emaciation have consumed her and the setting forth of her case would be long. No helper hath she but tears and she reciteth the following verses:

"No turtle warbles on the branch, before the break of morn, But
     stirs in me a killing grief, a sadness all forlorn.
No lover, longing for his loves, complaineth of desire, But with
     a doubled stress of woe my heart is overborne.
Of passion I complain to one who hath no ruth on me. How soul and
     body by desire are, one from other, torn!"

Then her eyes brimmed over with tears, and she wrote these verses also:

"Love-longing, the day of our parting, my body with mourning
     smote, And severance from my eyelids hath made sleep far
     remote.
I am so wasted for yearning and worn for sickness and woe, That,
     were it not for my speaking, thou'dst scarce my presence
     note."

Then she wept and wrote at the foot of the scroll, "This is from her who is far from her people and her native land, the sorrowful-hearted Nuzhet ez Zeman." She folded the letter and gave it to the merchant, who took it and reading what was written in it, rejoiced and exclaimed, "Glory to Him who fashioned thee!" Then he redoubled in kindness and attention to her all that day; and at nightfall, he sallied out to the market and bought food, wherewith he fed her; after which he carried her to the bath and said to the tire-woman, "As soon as thou hast made an end of washing her head, clothe her and send and let me know.' Meanwhile he fetched food and fruit and wax candles and set them on the dais in the outer room of the bath; and when the tire-woman had done washing her, she sent to tell the merchant, and Nuzhet ez Zeman went out to the outer room, where she found the tray spread with food and fruit. So she ate, and the tire-woman with her, and gave what was left to the people and keeper of the bath. Then she slept till the morning, and the merchant lay the night in a place apart. When he awoke, he came to her and waking her, presented her with a shift of fine silk, a kerchief worth a thousand dinars, a suit of Turkish brocade and boots embroidered with red gold and set with pearls and jewels. Moreover, he hung in each of her ears a circlet of gold, with a fine pearl therein, worth a thousand dinars, and threw round her neck a collar of gold, with bosses of garnet and a chain of amber beads, that hung down between her breasts to her middle. Now this chain was garnished with ten balls and nine crescents and each crescent had in its midst a beazel of ruby and each ball a beazel of balass ruby. The worth of the chain was three thousand dinars and each of the balls was worth twenty thousand dirhems, so that her dress in all was worth a great sum of money. When she had put these on, the merchant bade her make her toilet, and she adorned herself to the utmost advantage. Then he bade her follow him and walked on before her through the streets, whilst the people wondered at her beauty and exclaimed, "Blessed be God, the most excellent Creator! O fortunate man to whom she shall belong!" till they reached the Sultan's palace; when he sought an audience of Sherkan and kissing the earth before him, said, "O august King, I have brought thee a rare gift, unmatched in this time and richly covered with beauty and good qualities." "Let me see it," said Sherkan. So the merchant went out and returning with Nuzhet ez Zeman, made her stand before Sherkan. When the latter beheld her, blood drew to blood, though he had never seen her, having only heard that he had a sister called Nuzhet ez Zeman and a brother called Zoulmekan and not having made acquaintance with them, in his jealousy of them, because of the succession. Then said the merchant, "O King, not only is she without peer in her time for perfection of beauty and grace, but she is versed to boot in all learning, sacred and profane, besides the art of government and the abstract sciences." Quoth Sherkan, "Take her price, according to what thou gavest for her, and go thy ways." "I hear and obey," replied the merchant; "but first I would have thee write me a patent, exempting me for ever from paying tithe on my merchandise." "I will do this," said Sherkan; "but first tell me what you paid for her." Quoth the merchant, "I bought her for a hundred thousand dinars, and her clothes cost me as much more." When the Sultan heard this, he said, "I will give thee more than this for her," and calling his treasurer, said to him, "Give this merchant three hundred and twenty thousand dinars; so will he have a hundred and twenty thousand dinars profit." Then he summoned the four Cadis and paid him the money in their presence; after which he said to them, "I call you to witness that I free this my slave-girl and purpose to marry her." So the Cadis drew up the act of enfranchisement, and the Sultan scattered much gold on the heads of those present, which was picked up by the pages and eunuchs. Then they drew up the contract of marriage between Sherkan and Nuzhet ez Zeman, after which he bade write the merchant a perpetual patent, exempting him from tax and tithe upon his merchandise and forbidding all and several to do him let or hindrance in all his government, and bestowed on him a splendid dress of honour. Then all who were present retired, and there remained but the Cadis and the merchant; whereupon quoth Sherkan to the former, "I wish you to hear such discourse from this damsel as may prove her knowledge and accomplishment in all that this merchant avouches of her, that we may be certified of the truth of his pretensions." "Good," answered they; and he commanded the curtains to be drawn before Nuzhet ez Zeman and her attendants, who began to wish her joy and kiss her hands and feet, for that she was become the Viceroy's wife. Then they came round her and easing her of the weight of her clothes and ornaments, began to look upon her beauty and grace. Presently the wives of the Amirs and Viziers heard that King Sherkan had bought a damsel unmatched for beauty and accomplishments and versed in all branches of knowledge, at the price of three hundred and twenty thousand dinars, and that he had set her free and married her and summoned the four Cadis to examine her. So they asked leave of their husbands and repaired to the palace. When they came in to her, she rose and received them with courtesy, welcoming them and promising them all good. Moreover, she smiled in their faces and made them sit down in their proper stations, as if she had been brought up with them, so that their hearts were taken with her and they all wondered at her good sense and fine manners, as well as at her beauty and grace, and said to each other, "This damsel is none other than a queen, the daughter of a king." Then they sat down, magnifying her, and said to her, "O our lady, our city is illumined by thy presence, and our country and kingdom are honoured by thee. The kingdom indeed is thine and the palace is thy palace, and we all are thy handmaids; so do not thou shut us out from thy favours and the sight of thy beauty." And she thanked them for this. All this while the curtains were drawn between Nuzhet ez Zeman and the women with her, on the one side, and King Sherkan and the Cadis and merchant seated by him, on the other. Presently, Sherkan called to her and said, "O queen, the glory of thine age, this merchant describes thee as being learned and accomplished and asserts that thou art skilled in all branches of knowledge, even to astrology: so let us hear something of all this and give us a taste of thy quality."

"O King," replied she, "I hear and obey. The first subject of which I will treat is the art of government and the duties of kings and what behoves governors of lawful commandments and what is incumbent on them in respect of pleasing manners. Know then, O King, that all men's works tend either to religion or to worldly life, for none attains to religion save through this world, because it is indeed the road to the next world. Now the world is ordered by the doings of its people, and the doings of men are divided into four categories, government (or the exercise of authority), commerce, husbandry (or agriculture) and craftsmanship. To government are requisite perfect (knowledge of the science of) administration and just judgment; for government is the centre (or pivot) of the edifice of the world, which is the road to the future life since that God the Most High hath made the world to be to His servants even as victual to the traveller for the attainment of the goal: and it is needful that each man receive of it such measure as shall bring him to God, and that he follow not in this his own mind and desire. If the folk would take of the goods of the world with moderation and equity, there would be an end of contentions; but they take thereof with violence and iniquity and persist in following their own inclinations; and their licentiousness and evil behaviour in this give birth to strife and contention. So they have need of the Sultan, that he may do justice between them and order their affairs prudently, and if he restrain not the folk from one another, the strong will get the mastery over the weak. Ardeshir says that religion and the kingship are twin; religion is a treasure and the king its keeper; and the divine ordinances and men's own judgment indicate that it behoves the folk to adopt a ruler to hold the oppressor back from the oppressed and do the weak justice against the strong and to restrain the violence of the proud and the unjust. For know, O King, that according to the measure of the ruler's good morals, even so will be the time; as says the apostle of God (on whom be peace and salvation), 'There are two classes, who if they be virtuous, the people will be virtuous, and if they be depraved, the people also will be depraved: even princes and men of learning.' And it is said by a certain sage, 'There are three kinds of kings, the king of the Faith, the king who watches over and protects those things that are entitled to respect and honour, and the king of his own inclinations. The king of the Faith constrains his subjects to follow the laws of their faith, and it behoves that he be the most pious of them all, for it is by him that they take pattern in the things of the Faith; and the folk shall do obedience to him in what he commands in accordance with the Divine ordinances; but he shall hold the discontented in the same esteem as the contented, because of submission to the Divine decrees. As for the king of the second order, he upholds the things of the Faith and of the world and compels the folk to follow the Law of God and to observe the precepts of humanity; and it behoves him to conjoin the sword and the pen; for whoso goeth astray from what the pen hath written, his feet slip, and the king shall rectify his error with the edge of the sword and pour forth his justice upon all men. As for the third kind of king, he hath no religion but the following his own lusts and fears not the wrath of his Lord, who set him on the throne; so his kingdom inclines to ruin, and the end of his arrogance is in the House of Perdition.' And another sage says, 'The king has need of many people, but the folk have need of but one king; wherefore it behoves that he be well acquainted with their natures, to the end that he may reduce their difference to concord, that he may encompass them one and all with his justice and overwhelm them with his bounties.' And know, O King, that Ardeshir, styled Jemr Shedid, third of the Kings of Persia, conquered the whole world and divided it into four parts and let make for himself four seal-rings, one for each division of his realm. The first seal was that of the sea and the police and of prohibition, and on it was written, 'Alternatives.' The second was the seal of revenue and of the receipt of monies, and on it was written, 'Culture.' The third was the seal of the commissariat, and on it was written, 'Plenty.' The fourth was the seal of (the Court of Enquiry into) abuses, and on it was written, 'Justice.' And these remained in use in Persia until the revelation of Islam. King Chosroes also, wrote to his son, who was with the army, 'Be not over-lavish to thy troops, or they will come to have no need of thee; neither be niggardly with them, or they will murmur against thee. Do thy giving soberly and confer thy favours advisedly; be liberal to them in time of affluence and stint them not in time of stress.' It is said that an Arab of the desert came once to the Khalif Mensour[FN#32] and said to him, 'Starve thy dog and he will follow thee.' When the Khalif heard his words, he was enraged, but Aboulabbas et Tousi said to him, 'I fear that, if some other than thou should show him a cake of bread, the dog would follow him and leave thee.' Thereupon the Khalif's wrath subsided and he knew that the Bedouin had meant no offence and ordered him a present. And know, O King, that Abdulmelik ben Merwan wrote to his brother Abdulaziz, when he sent him to Egypt, as follows: 'Pay heed to thy secretaries and thy chamberlains, for the first will acquaint thee with necessary matters and the second with matters of etiquette and ceremonial observance, whilst the tribute that goes out from thee will make thy troops known to thee.' Omar ben el Khettab[FN#33] (whom God accept) was in the habit, when he engaged a servant, of laying four conditions on him, the first that he should not ride the baggage-beasts, the second that he should not wear fine clothes, the third that he should not eat of the spoil and the fourth that he should not delay to pray after the proper time. It is said that there is no wealth better than understanding and no understanding like common sense and prudence and no prudence like the fear of God; that there is no offering like good morals and no measure like good breeding and no profit like earning the Divine favour;[FN#34] that there is no piety like the observance of the limits of the Law and no science like that of meditation, no devotion like the performance of the Divine precepts, no safeguard like modesty, no calculation like humility and no nobility like knowledge. So guard the head and what it contains and the body and what it comprises and remember death and calamity. Says Ali[FN#35], (whose face God honour!), 'Beware of the wickedness of women and be on thy guard against them. Consult them not in aught, but be not grudging of complaisance to them, lest they be tempted to have recourse to intrigue.' And also, 'He who leaves the path of moderation and sobriety, his wits become perplexed.' And Omar (whom God accept) says, 'There are three kinds of women, first, the true-believing, God-fearing woman, loving and fruitful, helping her husband against fate, not helping fate against her husband; secondly, she who loves and tenders her children, but no more; and thirdly, the woman who is as a shackle that God puts on the neck of whom He will. Men also are three: the first, who is wise, when he exercises his judgment; the second, wiser than he, who, when there falls on him somewhat of which he knows not the issue, seeks folk of good counsel and acts by their advice; and the third, who is addle-headed, knowing not the right way nor heeding those who would instruct him.' Justice is indispensable in all things; even slave-girls have need of justice; and highway robbers, who live by violence, bear witness of this, for did they not deal equitably among themselves and observe fairness in their divisions, their order would fall to pieces. For the rest, the chief of noble qualities is generosity and benevolence. How well says the poet:

'By largesse and mildness the youth chief of his tribe became, And it were easy for thee to follow and do the same.'

And quoth another:

'In mildness stability lies and clemency wins us respect, And
     safety in soothfastness is for him who is soothfast and
     frank;
And he who would get himself praise and renown for his wealth
     from the folk, In the racecourse of glory must be, for
     munificence, first in the rank.'"

And Nuzhet ez Zeman discoursed upon the policy and behaviour of kings, till the bystanders said, "Never heard we one reason of the duties of kings like this damsel! Mayhap she will favour us with discourse upon some subject other than this." When she heard this, she said, "As for the chapter of good breeding,[FN#36] it is wide of scope, for it is a compend of perfections. There came in one day to the Khalif Muawiyeh[FN#37] one of his boon-companions, who spoke of the people of Irak and the goodness of their wit; and the Khalif's wife Meisoun, mother of Yezid, heard him. So, when he was gone, she said to the Khalif, 'O Commander of the Faithful, prithee let some of the people of Irak come in to thee and talk with them, that I may hear their discourse.' So the Khalif said to his attendants, 'Who is at the door?' And they answered, 'The Benou Temim.' 'Let them come in,' said he. So they came in and with them Ahnaf ben Cais.[FN#38] Now Muawiyeh had drawn a curtain between himself and Meisoun, that she might hear what they said without being seen herself; and he said to Ahnaf, 'O Abou Behr,[FN#39] pray, near and tell me what counsel thou hast for me.' Quoth Ahnaf, 'Part thy hair and trim thy moustache and clip thy nails and pluck out the hair of thine armpits and shave thy pubes and be constant in the use of the toothstick, for therein are two-and-seventy virtues, and make the Friday (complete) ablution as an expiation for what is between the two Fridays.' 'What is thy counsel to thyself?' asked Muawiyeh. 'To plant my feet firmly on the ground,' replied Ahnaf, 'to move them with deliberation and keep watch over them with my eyes.' 'How,' asked the Khalif, 'dost thou carry thyself, when thou goest in to the common folk of thy tribe?' 'I lower my eyes modestly,' replied Ahnaf, 'and salute them first, abstaining from what does not concern me and being sparing of words.' 'And how, when thou goest in to thine equals?' asked Muawiyeh. 'I give ear to them, when they speak,' answered the other, 'and do not assail them, when they err.' 'And how dost thou,' said the Khalif, 'when thou goest in to thy chiefs?' 'I salute without making any sign,' answered Ahnaf, 'and await the response: if they bid me draw near, I do so, and if they bid me stand aloof, I withdraw.' 'How dost thou with thy wife?' asked the Khalif. 'Excuse me from answering this, O Commander of the Faithful!' replied he; but Muawiyeh said, 'I conjure thee to answer.' Then said Ahnaf, 'I entreat her kindly and show her pleasant familiarity and am large in expenditure, for women were created of a crooked rib.' 'And how,' asked the Khalif, 'dost thou when thou hast a mind to lie with her?' 'I speak to her to perfume herself,' answered the other, 'and kiss her till she is moved to desire; then, if it be as thou knowest, I throw her on her back. If the seed abide in her womb, I say, "O my God, make it blessed and let it not be a castaway, but fashion it into a goodly shape!" Then I rise from her and betake myself to the ablution, first pouring water over my hands and then over my body and returning thanks to God for the delight He hath given me.' 'Thou hast answered excellently well,' said Muawiyeh; 'and now tell me what thou wouldst have.' Quoth Ahnaf, 'I would have thee rule thy subjects in the fear of God and do equal justice amongst them.' So saying, he withdrew from the Khalif's presence, and when he had gone, Meisoun said, 'Were there but this man in Irak, he would suffice to it.' This (continued Nuzhet ez Zeman) is a small fraction of the chapter of good breeding. Know O King, that Muyekib was intendant of the treasury during the Khalifate of Omar ben Khettab. 'One day (quoth he) the Khalif's son came to me and I gave him a dirhem from the treasury. Then I returned to my own house, and presently, as I was sitting, there came to me a messenger, bidding me to the Khalif. So I was afraid and went to him, and when I came into his presence, I saw in his hand the dirhem I had given his son. "Harkye, Muyekib," said he, "I have found somewhat concerning thy soul." "What is it, O Commander of the Faithful?" asked I; and he answered, "It is that thou wilt have to render an account of this dirhem to the people of Mohammed (on whom be peace and salvation) on the Day of Resurrection."' This same Omar wrote a letter to Abou Mousa el Ashari,[FN#40] to the following purport, 'When these presents reach thee, give the people what is theirs and send the rest to me.' And he did so. When Othman succeeded to the Khalifate, he wrote a like letter to Abou Mousa, who did his bidding and sent him the tribute accordingly, and with it came Ziad[FN#41] When the latter laid the tribute before Othman, the Khalif's son came in and took a dirhem, whereupon Ziad fell a-weeping. 'Why dost thou weep?' asked Othman. Quoth Ziad, 'I once brought Omar ben Khettab the like of this, and his son took a dirhem, whereupon Omar bade snatch it from his hand. Now thy son hath taken of the tribute, yet have I seen none rebuke him nor take the money from him.' And Othman said, 'Where wilt thou find the like of Omar?' Again, Zeid ben Aslam relates of his father that he said, 'I went out one night with Omar, and we walked on till we espied a blazing fire in the distance. Quoth Omar, "This must be travellers, who are suffering from the cold: let us join them." So we made for the fire, and when we came to it, we found a woman who had lighted a fire under a cauldron, and by her side were two children, crying. "Peace on you, O folk of the light!" said Omar, for he misliked to say, "folk of the fire;"[FN#42] "what ails you?" Quoth she, "The cold and the night irk us." "What ails these children that they weep?" asked he. "They are hungry," replied she. "And what is in this cauldron?" asked Omar. "It is what I quiet them with," answered she, "and God will question Omar ben Khettab of them, on the Day of Resurrection." "And what," rejoined the Khalif, "should Omar know of their case?" "Why then," said she, "should he undertake the governance of the people's affairs and yet be unmindful of them?" Then Omar turned to me and said, "Come with me." So we both set off running till we reached the treasury, where he took out a sack of flour and a pot of fat and said to me, "Put these on my back." "O Commander of the Faithful," said I, "I will carry them for thee." "Wilt thou bear my burden for me on the Day of Resurrection?" replied he. So I put the things on his back, and we set off, running, till we came to the woman, when he threw down the sack. Then he took out some of the flour and put it in the cauldron and saying to the woman, "Leave it to me," fell to blowing the fire; Now he had a great beard and I saw the smoke issuing from the interstices thereof, till the flour was cooked, when he threw in some of the fat and said to the woman, "Do thou feed the boys whilst I cool the food for them." So they ate their fill and he left the rest with her. Then he turned to me and said, "O Aslam, I see it was indeed hunger made them weep; and I am glad I did not go away without finding out the reason of the light I saw."' It is said that Omar passed, one day, by a flock of sheep, kept by a slave, and asked the latter to sell him a sheep. 'They are not mine,' replied the shepherd. 'Thou art the man I sought,' said Omar and buying him of his master, set him free, whereupon the slave exclaimed, 'O my God, thou hast bestowed on me the lesser emancipation; vouchsafe me now the greater!'[FN#43] They say also, that Omar ben Khettab was wont to give his servants sweet milk and eat coarse fare himself and to clothe them softly and wear himself coarse garments. He gave all men their due and exceeded in his giving to them. He once gave a man four thousand dirhems and added thereto yet a thousand, wherefore it was said to him, 'Why dost thou not favour thy son as thou favourest this man?' He answered, 'This man's father stood firm in fight on the day of Uhud.'[FN#44] El Hassan relates that Omar once came (back from an expedition) with much money and that Hefseh[FN#45] came to him and said, 'O Commander of the Faithful, be mindful of the due of kinship!' 'O Hefseh,' replied he, 'God hath indeed enjoined us to satisfy the dues of kinship, but of our own monies, not those of the true believers. Indeed, thou pleasest thy family, but angerest thy father.' And she went away, dragging her skirts. Says Omar's son, 'I implored God one year (after Omar's death) to show me my father, till at last I saw him wiping the sweat from his brow and said to him, "How is it with thee, O my father?" "But for God's mercy," answered he, "thy father had perished." Then said Nuzhet ez Zeman, "Hear, O august King, the second division of the first chapter of the instances of the followers of the Prophet and other pious men. Says El Hassan of Bassora,[FN#46] 'Not a soul of the sons of Adam goes forth of the world, without grieving for three things, failure to enjoy what he has amassed, failure to compass what he hoped and failure to provide himself with sufficient provision for that to which he goes.[FN#47]' It was said to Sufyan,[FN#48] 'Can a man be devout and yet possess wealth?' 'Yes,' replied he, 'so he be patient under affliction and return thanks, when God giveth to him.' When Abdallah ben Sheddad was on his death-bed, he sent for his son Mohammed and admonished him, saying, 'O my son, I see the messenger of death calling me and so I charge thee to cherish the fear of God, both in public and private. Praise God and be true in thy speech, for the praise of God brings increase of prosperity, and piety in itself is the best of provision,[FN#49] even as says one of the poets:

I see not that bliss lies in filling one's chest; The God-fearing
     man can alone be called blest.
For piety aye winneth increase of God; So of all men's provision
     'tis surely the best.

When Omar ben Abdulaziz[FN#50] succeeded to the Khalifate, he went to his own house and laying hands on all that his family and household possessed, put it into the public treasury. So the Ommiades[FN#51] betook themselves for aid to his father's sister, Fatimeh, daughter of Merwan, and she sent to Omar, saying, 'I must needs speak with thee.' So she came to him by night, and when he had made her alight from her beast and sit down, he said to her, 'O aunt, it is for thee to speak first, since it is at thine instance that we meet; tell me, therefore, what thou wouldst with me.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' replied she, 'it is thine to speak first, for thy judgment perceives that which is hidden from the senses.' Then said the Khalif, 'Of a verity God sent Mohammed as a mercy to some and a punishment to others; and He chose out for him what was with him and withdrew him to Himself, leaving the people a river, whereof the thirsty of them might drink. After him he made Abou Bekr the Truth-teller Khalif and he left the river in its pristine state, doing what was pleasing to God. Then arose Omar and worked a work and furnished forth a strife, of which none might do the like When Othman came, he diverted a stream from the river, and Muawiyeh in his turn sundered several streams from it. In like manner, Yezid and the sons of Merwan, Abdulmelik and Welid and Suleiman[FN#52], ceased not to take from the river and dry up the main stream, till the commandment devolved upon me, and now I am minded to restore the river to its normal condition.' When Fatimeh heard this, she said, 'I came, wishing only to speak and confer with thee, but if this be thy word, I have nothing to say to thee.' Then she returned to the Ommiades and said to them, 'See what you have brought on you by allying yourselves with Omar ben Khettab.' [FN#53] When Omar was on his deathbed, he gathered his children round him, and Meslemeh[FN#54] ben Abdulmelik said to him, 'O Commander of the Faithful, wilt thou leave thy children beggars and thou their protector? None can hinder thee from giving them in thy lifetime what will suffice them out of the treasury; and this indeed were better than leaving it to revert to him who shall come after thee.' Omar gave him a look of wrath and wonder and replied, 'O Meslemeh, I have defended them all the days of my life, and shall I make them miserable after my death? My sons are like other men, either obedient to God the Most High or disobedient: if the former, God will prosper them, and if the latter, I will not help them in their disobedience. Know, O Meslemeh, that I was present, even as thou, when such an one of the sons of Merwan was buried, and I fell asleep by him and saw him in a dream given over to one of the punishments of God, to whom belong might and majesty. This terrified me and made me tremble, and I vowed to God that, if ever I came to the throne, I would not do as the dead man had done. This vow I have striven to fulfil all the days of my life, and I hope to be received into the mercy of my Lord.' Quoth Meslemeh, 'A certain man died and I was present at his funeral. I fell asleep and meseemed I saw him, as in a dream, clad in white clothes and walking in a garden full of running waters. He came up to me and said, "O Meslemeh, it is for the like of this that governors (or men who bear rule) should work."' Many are the instances of this kind, and quoth one of the men of authority, 'I used to milk the ewes in the Khalifate of Omar ben Abdulaziz, and one day, I met a shepherd, among whose sheep were wolves. I thought them to be dogs, for I had never before seen wolves; so I said to the shepherd, "What dost thou with these dogs?" "They are not dogs, but wolves," replied he. Quoth I, "Can wolves be with sheep and not hurt them?" "When the head is whole," replied he, "the body is whole also."' Omar ben Abdulaziz preached once from a mud pulpit, and after praising and glorifying God the Most High, said three words and spoke as follows, 'O folk, make clean your hearts, that your outward lives may be clean to your brethren, and abstain from the things of the world. Know that from Adam to this present, there is no one man alive among the dead. Dead are Abdulmelik and those who forewent him, and Omar also will die, and those who come after him.' Quoth Meslemeh (to this same Omar, when he was dying), 'O Commander of the Faithful, shall we set a pillow behind thee, that thou mayest lean on it a little?' But Omar answered, 'I fear lest it be a fault about my neck on the Day of Resurrection.' Then he gasped for breath and fell back in a swoon; whereupon Fatimeh cried out, saying, 'Ho, Meryem! Ho, Muzahim! Ho, such an one! Look to this man!' And she began to pour water on him, weeping, till he revived, and seeing her in tears, said to her, 'O Fatimeh, why dost thou weep?' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' replied she, 'I saw thee lying prostrate before us and thought of thy prostration before God the Most High in death and of thy departure from the world and separation from us. This is what made me weep.' 'Enough, O Fatimeh,' answered he; 'indeed thou exceedest.' Then he would have risen, but fell down, and Fatimeh strained him to her, saying, 'Thou art to me as my father and my mother, O Commander of the Faithful! We cannot speak to thee, all of us.'[FN#55] Again (continued Nuzhet ez Zeman), Omar ben Abdulaziz wrote to the people of the festival at Mecca, as follows, 'I call God to witness, in the Holy Month, in the Holy City and on the day of the Great Pilgrimage, that I am innocent of your oppression and of the wickedness of him that doth you wrong, in that I have neither commanded this nor purposed it, neither hath any report of aught thereof reached me (till now) nor have I had knowledge of it; and I trust therefore that God will pardon it to me. None hath authority from me to do oppression, for I shall assuredly be questioned (at the Last Day) concerning every one who hath been wrongfully entreated. So if any one of my officers swerve from the right and act without law or authority,[FN#56] ye owe him no obedience, till he return to the right way.' He said also (may God accept of him), 'I do not wish to be relieved from death, for that it is the supreme thing for which the true believer is rewarded.' Quoth one of authority, 'I went one day to the Commander of the Faithful, Omar ben Abdulaziz, who was then Khalif, and saw before him twelve dirhems, which he bade take to the treasury. So I said to him, "O Commander of the Faithful, thou impoverishest thy children and reducest them to beggary, leaving nothing for them. Thou wouldst do well to appoint somewhat by will to them and to those who are poor of the people of thy house." "Draw near to me," answered he. So I drew near to him and he said, "As for thy saying, 'Thou beggarest thy children; provide for them and for the poor of thy household,' it is without reason, for God will replace me to my children and to those who are poor of the people of my house, and He will be their guardian. Verily, they are like other men; he who fears God, God will provide him a happy issue, and he that is addicted to sin, I will not uphold him in his disobedience." Then he called his sons before him, and they were twelve in number. When he beheld them, his eyes filled with tears and he said to them, "Your father is between two things; either ye will be rich and he will enter the fire, or ye will be poor and he enter Paradise; and your father's entry into Paradise is liefer to him than that ye should be rich. So go, God be your helper, for to Him I commit your affair."' Quoth Khalid ben Sefwan,[FN#57] 'Yusuf ben Omar[FN#58] accompanied me to Hisham ben Abdulmelik,[FN#59] and I met him as he came forth with his kinsmen and attendants. He alighted and a tent was pitched for him. When the people had taken their seats, I came up to the side of the carpet (on which the Khalif was reclining) and waiting till my eyes met his, bespoke him thus, "May God fulfil His bounty to thee, O Commander of the Faithful, and direct into the right way the affairs He hath committed to thy charge, and may no harm mingle with thy cheer! O Commander of the Faithful, I have an admonition for thee, which I have gleaned from the history of the kings of time past!" At this, he sat up and said to me, "O son of Sefwan, say what is in thy mind." "O Commander of the Faithful," quoth I, "one of the kings before thee went forth, in a time before thy time, to this very country and said to his companions, 'Saw ye ever any in the like of my state or to whom hath been given even as it hath been given unto me?' Now there was with him one of those who survive to bear testimony to the Faith and are upholders of the Truth and walkers in its highway, and he said, 'O King, thou askest of a grave matter. Wilt thou give me leave to answer?' 'Yes,' replied the King, and the other said, 'Dost thou judge thy present state to be temporary or enduring?' 'It is a temporary thing,' replied the King. 'Why then,' asked the man, 'do I see thee exult in that which thou wilt enjoy but a little while and whereof thou wilt be questioned at length and for the rendering an account whereof thou wilt be as a pledge?' 'Whither shall I flee,' asked the King, 'and where is that I must seek?' 'Abide in thy kingship,' replied the other, 'and apply thyself to obey the commandments of God the Most High; or else don thy worn-out clothes and devote thyself to the service of thy Lord, till thine appointed hour come to thee.' Then he left him, saying, 'I will come to thee again at daybreak.' So he knocked at his door at dawn and found that the King had put off his crown and resolved to become an anchorite, for the stress of his exhortation." When Hisham heard this, he wept till his beard was drenched and putting off his rich apparel, shut himself up in his palace. Then the grandees and courtiers came to me and said, "What is this thou hast done with the Commander of the Faithful? Thou hast marred his cheer and troubled his life!"' "But (continued Nuzhet ez Zeman, addressing herself to Sherkan) how many admonitory instances are there not that bear upon this branch of the subject! Indeed, it is beyond my power to report all that pertains to this head in one sitting; but, with length of days, O King of the age, all will be well."

Then said the Cadis, "O King, of a truth this damsel is the wonder of the time and the unique pearl of the age! Never in all our lives heard we the like." And they called down blessings on Sherkan and went away. Then said he to his attendants, "Prepare the wedding festivities and make ready food of all kinds." So they addressed themselves to do his bidding, and he bade the wives of the amirs and viziers and grandees depart not until the time of the wedding banquet and of the unveiling of the bride. Hardly was the time of afternoon-prayer come, when the tables were spread with roast meats and geese and fowls and all that the heart can desire or that can delight the eye; and all the people ate till they were satisfied. Moreover, the King had sent for all the singing-women of Damascus and they were present, together with all the slave-girls of the King and the notables who knew how to sing. When the evening came and it grew dark, they lighted flambeaux, right and left, from the gate of the citadel to that of the palace, and the amirs and viziers and grandees defiled before King Sherkan, whilst the singers and the tire-women took Nuzhet ez Zeman, to dress and adorn her, but found she needed no adorning. Meantime King Sherkan went to the bath and coming out, sat down on his bed of estate, whilst they unveiled the bride before him in seven different dresses; after which they eased her of the weight of her dresses and ornaments and gave such injunctions as are usually given to girls on their wedding-night. Then Sherkan went in to her and took her maidenhead; and she at once conceived by him, whereat he rejoiced with an exceeding joy and commanded the sages to record the date of her conception. On the morrow, he went forth and seated himself on his throne, and the grandees came in to him and gave him joy. Then he called his private secretary and bade him write to his father, King Omar ben Ennuman, a letter to the following effect: "Know that I have bought me a damsel, who excels in learning and accomplishment and is mistress of all kinds of knowledge. I have set her free and married her and she has conceived by me. And needs must I send her to Baghdad to visit my brother Zoulmekan and my sister Nuzhet ez Zeman." And he went on to praise her wit and salute his brother and sister, together with the Vizier Dendan and all the amirs. Then he sealed the letter and despatched it to his father by a courier, who was absent a whole month, after which time he returned with the old King's answer. Sherkan took it and read as follows, after the usual preamble, "In the name of God," etc., "This is from the afflicted and distraught, him who hath lost his children and is (as it were) an exile from his native land, King Omar ben Ennuman, to his son Sherkan. Know that, since thy departure from me, the place is become contracted upon me, so that I can no longer have patience nor keep my secret: and the reason of this is as follows. It chanced that Zoulmekan sought my leave to go on the pilgrimage, but I, fearing for him the shifts of fortune, forbade him therefrom until the next year or the year after. Soon after this, I went out to hunt and was absent a whole month. When I returned, I found that thy brother and sister had taken somewhat of money and set out by stealth with the caravan of pilgrims. When I knew this, the wide world became strait on me, O my son; but I awaited the return of the caravan, hoping that they would return with it. Accordingly, when the caravan came back, I questioned the pilgrims of them, but they could give me no news of them; so I put on mourning apparel for them, being heavy at heart and sleepless and drowned in the tears of my eyes." Then followed these verses:

Their image is never absent a breathing-while from my breast, I
     have made it within my bosom the place of the honoured
     guest,
But that I look for their coming, I would not live for an hour,
     And but that I see them in dreams, I ne'er should lie down
     to rest.

The letter went on (after the usual salutations to Sherkan and those of his court), "Do not thou therefore neglect to seek news of them, for indeed this is a dishonour to us." When Sherkan read the letter, he mourned for his father, but rejoiced in the loss of his brother and sister. Now Nuzhet ez Zeman knew not that he was her brother nor he that she was his sister, although he paid her frequent visits, both by day and by night, till the months of her pregnancy were accomplished and she sat down on the stool of delivery. God made the delivery easy to her and she gave birth to a daughter, whereupon she sent for Sherkan and said to him, "This is thy daughter: name her as thou wilt." Quoth he, "Folk use to name their children on the seventh day." Then he bent down to kiss the child and saw, hung about her neck, a jewel, which he knew at once for one of those that the princess Abrizeh had brought from the land of the Greeks. At this sight, his senses fled, his eyes rolled and wrath seized on him, and he looked at Nuzhet ez Zeman and said to her, "O damsel, whence hadst thou this jewel?" When she heard this, she replied, "I am thy lady and the lady of all in thy palace. Art thou not ashamed to say to me, 'O damsel'?[FN#60] Indeed, I am a queen, the daughter of a king; and now concealment shall cease and the truth be made known. I am Nuzhet ez Zeman, daughter of King Omar ben Ennuman." When Sherkan heard this, he was seized with trembling and bowed his head towards the earth, whilst his heart throbbed and his colour paled, for he knew that she was his sister by the same father. Then he lost his senses; and when he revived, he abode in amazement, but did not discover himself to her and said to her, "O my lady, art thou indeed the daughter of King Omar ben Ennuman?" "Yes," replied she; and he said, "Tell me how thou camest to leave thy father and be sold for a slave." So she told him all that had befallen her, from first to last, how she had left her brother sick in Jerusalem and how the Bedouin had lured her away and sold her to the merchant. When Sherkan heard this all was certified that she was indeed his sister, he said to himself, "How can I have my sister to wife? By Allah, I must marry her to one of my chamberlains; and if the thing get wind, I will avouch that I divorced her before consummation and married her to my chief chamberlain." Then he raised his head and said, "O Nuzhet ez Zeman, thou art my very sister; for I am Sherkan, son of King Omar ben Ennuman, and may God forgive us the sin into which we have fallen!" She looked at him and seeing that he spoke the truth, became as one bereft of reason and wept and buffeted her face, exclaiming, "There is no power and no virtue but in God! Verily we have fallen into grievous sin! What shall I do and what answer shall I make my father and my mother, when they say to me, 'Whence hadst thou thy daughter'?" Quoth Sherkan, "I purpose to marry thee to my chief chamberlain and let thee bring up my daughter in his house, that none may know thee to be my sister. This that hath befallen us was ordained of God for a purpose of His own, and there is no way to cover ourselves but by thy marriage with the chamberlain, ere any know." Then he fell to comforting her and kissing her head, and she said to him, "What wilt thou call the child?" "Call her Kuzia Fekan,"[FN#61] replied he. Then he gave her in marriage to the chief chamberlain, and they reared the child in his house, on the laps of the slave-girls, till, one day, there came to King Sherkan a courier from his father, with a letter to the following purport, "In the name of God, etc. Know, O puissant King, that I am sore afflicted for the loss of my children: sleep fails me and wakefulness is ever present with me. I send thee this letter that thou mayst make ready the tribute of Syria and send it to us, together with the damsel whom thou hast bought and taken to wife; for I long to see her and hear her discourse; because there has come to us from the land of the Greeks a devout old woman, with five damsels, high-bosomed maids, endowed with knowledge and accomplishments and all fashions of learning that befit mortals; and indeed the tongue fails to describe this old woman and her companions. As soon as I saw the damsels, I loved them and wished to have them in my palace and at my commandment, for none of the kings possesses the like of them; so I asked the old woman their price, and she replied, 'I will not sell them but for the tribute of Damascus.' And by Allah, this is but little for them, for each one of them is worth the whole price. So I agreed to this and took them into my palace, and they remain in my possession. Wherefore do thou expedite the tribute to us, that the old woman may return to her own country; and send us the damsel, that she may strive with them before the doctors; and if she overcome them, I will send her back to thee with the year's revenue of Baghdad." When Sherkan read this letter, he went in to his brother-in-law and said to him, "Call the damsel to whom I married thee." So she came, and he showed her the letter and said to her, "O my sister, what answer wouldst thou have me make to this letter?" "It is for thee to judge," replied she. Then she recalled her people and her native land and yearned after them; so she said to him, "Send me and my husband the Chamberlain to Baghdad, that I may tell my father how the Bedouin seized me and sold me to the merchant, and how thou boughtest me of him and gavest me in marriage to the Chamberlain, after setting me free." "Be it so," replied Sherkan. Then he made ready the tribute in haste and gave it to the Chamberlain, bidding him make ready for Baghdad, and furnished him with camels and mules and two travelling litters, one for himself and the other for the princess. Moreover, he wrote a letter to his father and committed it to the Chamberlain. Then he took leave of his sister, after he had taken the jewel from her and hung it round his daughter's neck by a chain of fine gold; and she and her husband set out for Baghdad the same night. Now their caravan was the very one to which Zoulmekan and his friend the stoker had joined themselves, as before related, having waited till the Chamberlain passed them, riding on a dromedary, with his footmen around him. Then Zoulmekan mounted the stoker's ass and said to the latter, "Do thou mount with me." But he said, "Not so: I will be thy servant." Quoth Zoulmekan, "Needs must thou ride awhile." "It is well," replied the stoker; "I will ride when I grow tired." Then said Zoulmekan, "O my brother, thou shalt see how I will do with thee, when I come to my own people." So they journeyed on till the sun rose, and when it was the hour of the noonday rest, the Chamberlain called a halt, and they alighted and rested and watered their camels. Then he gave the signal for departure and they journeyed for five days, till they came to the city of Hemah, where they made a three days' halt; then set out again and fared on, till they reached the province of Diarbekir. Here there blew on them the breezes of Baghdad, and Zoulmekan bethought him of his father and mother and his native land and how he was returning to his father without his sister: so he wept and sighed and complained, and his regrets increased on him, and he repeated the following verses:

How long wilt thou delay from me, beloved one? I wait: And yet
     there comes no messenger with tidings of thy fate.
Alack, the time of love-delight and peace was brief indeed! Ah,
     that the days of parting thus would of their length abate!
Take thou my hand and put aside my mantle and thou'lt find My
     body wasted sore; and yet I hide my sad estate.
And if thou bid me be consoled for thee, "By God," I say, "I'll
     ne'er forget thee till the Day that calls up small and
     great!"

"Leave this weeping and lamenting," said the stoker, "for we are near the Chamberlain's tent." Quoth Zoulmekan, "Needs must I recite somewhat of verse, so haply it may allay the fire of my heart." "God on thee," cried the stoker, "leave this lamentation, till thou come to thine own country; then do what thou wilt, and I will be with thee, wherever thou art." "By Allah," replied Zoulmekan, "I cannot forbear from this!" Then he set his face towards Baghdad and began to repeat verses. Now the moon was shining brightly and shedding her light on the place, and Nuzhet ez Zeman could not sleep that night, but was wakeful and called to mind her brother and wept. Presently, she heard Zoulmekan weeping and repeating the following verses:

The southern lightning gleams in the air And rouses in me the old
     despair,
The grief for a dear one, loved and lost, Who filled me the cup
     of joy whilere.
It minds me of her who fled away And left me friendless and sick
     and bare.
O soft-shining lightnings, tell me true, Are the days of
     happiness past fore'er?
Chide not, O blamer of me, for God Hath cursed me with two things
     hard to bear,
A friend who left me to pine alone, And a fortune whose smile was
     but a snare.
The sweet of my life was gone for aye, When fortune against me
     did declare;
She brimmed me a cup of grief unmixed, And I must drink it and
     never spare.
Or ever our meeting 'tide, sweetheart, Methinks I shall die of
     sheer despair,
I prithee, fortune, bring back the days When we were a happy
     childish pair;
The days, when we from the shafts of fate, That since have
     pierced us, in safety were!
Ah, who shall succour the exiled wretch, Who passes the night in
     dread and care,
And the day in mourning for her whose name, Delight of the
     Age[FN#62], bespoke her fair?
The hands of the baseborn sons of shame Have doomed us the wede
     of woe to wear.

Then he cried out and fell down in a swoon, and when Nuzhet ez Zeman heard his voice in the night, her heart was solaced and she rose and called the chief eunuch, who said to her, "What is thy will?" Quoth she, "Go and fetch me him who recited verses but now." "I did not hear him," replied he; "the people are all asleep." And she said, "Whomsoever thou findest awake, he is the man." So he went out and sought, but found none awake but the stoker; for Zoulmekan was still insensible, and, Nuzhet ez Zeman, going up to the former, said to him, "Art thou he who recited verses but now, and my lady heard him?" The stoker concluded that the lady was wroth and was afraid and replied, "By Allah, 'twas not I!" "Who then was it?" rejoined the eunuch. "Point him out to me. Thou must know who it was, seeing that thou art awake." The stoker feared for Zoulmekan and said in himself, "Maybe the eunuch will do him some hurt." So he answered, "I know not who it was." "By Allah," said the eunuch, "thou liest, for there is none awake here but thou! So needs must thou know him." "By Allah," replied the stoker, "I tell thee the truth! It must have been some passer-by who recited the verses and disturbed me and aroused me, may God requite him!" Quoth the eunuch, "If thou happen upon him, point him out to me and I will lay hands on him and bring him to the door of my lady's litter; or do thou take him with thine own hand." "Go back," said the stoker, "and I will bring him to thee." So the eunuch went back to his mistress and said to her, "None knows who it was; it must have been some passer-by." And she was silent. Meanwhile, Zoulmekan came to himself and saw that the moon had reached the zenith and felt the breath of the breeze that goes before the dawn; whereupon his heart was moved to longing and sadness, and he cleared his throat and was about to recite verses, when the stoker said to him, "What wilt thou do?" "I have a mind to repeat somewhat of verse," answered Zoulmekan, "that I may allay therewith the fire of my heart." Quoth the other, "Thou knowest not what befell me, whilst thou wert aswoon, and how I only escaped death by beguiling the eunuch." "Tell me what happened," said Zoulrnekan. "Whilst thou wert aswoon," replied the stoker, "there came up to me but now an eunuch, with a long staff of almond-tree wood in his hand, who looked in all the people's faces, as they lay asleep, and finding none awake but myself, asked me who it was recited the verses. I told him it was some passer-by; so he went away and God delivered me from him; else had he killed me. But first he said to me, 'If thou hear him again, bring him to us.'" When Zoulmekan heard this, he wept and said, "Who is it would forbid me to recite? I will surely do so, come what may; for I am near my own country and care for no one." "Dost thou wish to destroy thyself?" asked the stoker; and Zoulmekan answered, "I cannot help reciting verses." "Verily," said the stoker, "I see this will bring about a parting between us here though I had promised myself not to leave thee, till I had brought thee to thy native city and re-united thee with thy mother and father. Thou hast now been with me a year and a half, and I have never baulked thee or harmed thee in aught. What ails thee then, that thou must needs recite, seeing that we are exceeding weary with travel and watching and all the folk are asleep, for they need sleep to rest them of their fatigue." But Zoulmekan answered, "I will not be turned from my purpose." Then grief moved him and he threw off disguise and began to repeat the following verses:

Halt by the camp and hail the ruined steads by the brake, And
     call on her name aloud; mayhap she will answer make.
And if for her absence the night of sadness darken on thee, Light
     in its gloom a fire with longings for her sake.
Though the snake of the sand-hills hiss, small matter is it to me
     If it sting me, so I the fair with the lips of crimson take.
O Paradise, left perforce of the spirit, but that I hope For ease
     in the mansions of bliss, my heart would surely break!

And these also:

Time was when fortune was to us even as a servant is, And in the
     loveliest of lands our happy lives did kiss.
Ah, who shall give me back the abode of my belov'd, wherein The
     Age's Joy[FN#63] and Place's Light[FN#64] erst dwelt in
     peace and bliss?

Then he cried out three times and fell down senseless, and the stoker rose and covered him. When Nuzhet ez Zeman heard the first verses, she called to mind her mother and father and brother; and when she heard the second, mentioning the names of herself and her brother and their sometime home, she wept and calling the eunuch, said to him, "Out on thee! But now I heard him who recited the first time do so again, and that hard by. So, by Allah, an thou fetch him not to me, I will rouse the Chamberlain on thee, and he shall beat thee and turn thee away. But take these hundred dinars and give them to him and do him no hurt, but bring him to me gently. If he refuse, give him this purse of a thousand dinars and leave him and return to me and tell me, after thou hast informed thyself of his place and condition and what countryman he is. Return quickly and do not linger, and beware lest thou come back and say, 'I could not find him.'" So the eunuch went out and fell to examining the people and treading amongst them, but found none awake, for the folk were all asleep for weariness, till he came to the stoker and saw him sitting up, with his head uncovered. So he drew near him and seizing him by the hand, said to him, "It was thou didst recite the verses!" The stoker was affrighted and replied, "No, by Allah, O chief of the people, it was not I!" But the eunuch said, "I will not leave thee till thou show me who it was; for I fear to return to my lady without him." Thereupon the stoker feared for Zoulmekan and wept sore and said to the eunuch, "By Allah, it was not I, nor do I know who it was. I only heard some passer-by recite verses: so do not thou commit sin on me, for I am a stranger and come from Jerusalem, and Abraham the Friend of God be with thee!" "Come thou with me," rejoined the eunuch, "and tell my lady this with thine own mouth, for I see none awake but thee." Quoth the stoker, "Hast thou not seen me sitting here and dost thou not know my station? Thou knowest none can stir from his place, except the guards seize him. So go thou to thy mistress and if thou hear any one reciting again, whether it be near or far, it will be I or some one whom I shall know, and thou shalt not know of him but by me." Then he kissed the eunuch's head and spoke him fair, till he went away; but he made a circuit and returning secretly, came and hid himself behind the stoker, fearing to go back to his mistress empty-handed. As soon as he was gone, the stoker aroused Zoulmekan and said to him, "Awake and sit up, that I may tell thee what has happened." So Zoulmekan sat up, and the stoker told him what had passed, and he answered, "Let me alone; I will take no heed of this and I care for none, for I am near my own country." Quoth the stoker, "Why wilt thou obey thine own inclinations and the promptings of the devil? If thou fearest no one, I fear for thee and myself; so God on thee, recite no more verses, till thou come to thine own country! Indeed, I had not thought thee so self-willed. Dost thou not know that this lady is the wife of the Chamberlain and is minded to chide thee for disturbing her. Belike, she is ill or restless for fatigue, and this is the second time she hath sent the eunuch to look for thee." However, Zoulmekan paid no heed to him, but cried out a third time and repeated the following verses:

The carping tribe I needs must flee; Their railing chafes my
     misery.
They blame and chide at me nor know They do but fan the flame in
     me.
"She is consoled," they say. And I, "Can one consoled for country
     be?"
Quoth they, "How beautiful she is!" And I, "How dear-belov'd is
     she!"
"How high her rank!" say they; and I, "How base is my humility!"
Now God forfend I leave to love, Deep though I drink of agony!
Nor will I heed the railing race, Who carp at me for loving thee.

Hardly had he made an end of these verses when the eunuch, who had heard him from his hiding, came up to him; whereupon the stoker fled and stood afar off, to see what passed between them. Then said the eunuch to Zoulmekan, "Peace be on thee, O my lord!" "And on thee be peace," replied Zoulmekan, "and the mercy of God and His blessing!" "O my lord," continued the eunuch, "this is the third time I have sought thee this night, for my mistress bids thee to her." Quoth Zoulmekan, "Whence comes this bitch that seeks for me? May God curse her and her husband too!" And he began to revile the eunuch, who could make him no answer, because his mistress had charged him to do Zoulmekan no violence nor bring him, save of his free will, and if he would not come, to give him the thousand dinars. So he began to speak him fair and say to him, "O my lord, take this (purse) and go with me. We will do thee no unright nor wrong thee in aught; but we would have thee bend thy gracious steps with me to my mistress, to speak with her and return in peace and safety; and thou shalt have a handsome present." When Zoulmekan heard this, he arose and went with the eunuch, stepping over the sleeping folk, whilst the stoker followed them at a distance, saying to himself, "Alas, the pity of his youth! To-morrow they will hang him. How base it will be of him, if he say it was I who bade him recite the verses!" And he drew near to them and stood, watching them, without their knowledge, till they came to Nuzhet ez Zeman's tent, when the eunuch went in to her and said, "O my lady, I have brought thee him whom thou soughtest, and he is a youth, fair of face and bearing the marks of gentle breeding." When she heard this, her heart fluttered and she said, "Let him recite some verses, that I may hear him near at hand, and after ask him his name and extraction." So the eunuch went out to Zoulmekan and said to him, "Recite what verses thou knowest, for my lady is here hard by, listening to thee, and after I will ask thee of thy name and extraction and condition." "Willingly," replied he; "but as for my name, it is blotted out and my trace among men is passed away and my body wasted. I have a story, the beginning of which is not known nor can the end of it be described, and behold, I am even as one who hath exceeded in drinking wine, till he hath lost the mastery of himself and is afflicted with distempers and wanders from his right mind, being perplexed about his case and drowned in the sea of melancholy." When Nuzhet ez Zeman heard this, she broke out into loud weeping and sobbing and said to the eunuch, "Ask him if he have lost a beloved one, such as his father or mother." The eunuch did as she bade him, and Zoulmekan replied, "Yes, I have lost all whom I loved: but the dearest of all to me was my sister, from whom Fate hath parted me." When Nuzhet ez Zeman heard this, she exclaimed, "May God the Most High reunite him with those he loves!" Then said she to the eunuch, "Tell him to let me hear somewhat on the subject of his separation from his people and his country." The eunuch did so, and Zoulmekan sighed heavily and repeated the following verses:

Ah, would that I knew they were ware Of the worth of the heart
     they have won!
Would I knew through what passes they fare, From what quarter
     they look on the sun! Are they living, I wonder, or dead?
     Can it be that their life's race is run?
Ah, the lover is ever distraught And his life for misgivings
     undone!

And also these:

I vow, if e'er the place shall bless my longing sight, Wherein my
     sister dwells, the age's dear delight,[FN#65]
I'll take my fill of life and all the sweets of peace, Midst
     trees and flowing streams: and maidens fair and bright
The lute's enchanting tones shall soothe me to repose, What while
     I quaff full cups of wine like living light
And honeyed dews of love suck from the deep-red lips Of lovelings
     sleepy-eyed, with tresses black as night.

When he had finished, Nuzhet ez Zeman lifted up a corner of the curtain of the litter and looked at him. As soon as her eyes fell on him, she knew him for certain and cried out, "O my brother! O Zoulmekan!" He looked at her and knew her and cried out, "O my sister! O Nuzhet ez Zeman!" Then she threw herself upon him, and he received her in his arms, and they both fell down in a swoon. When the eunuch saw this, he wondered and throwing over them somewhat to cover them, waited till they should recover. After awhile, they came to themselves, and Nuzhet ez Zeman rejoiced exceedingly. Grief and anxiety left her and joys flocked upon her and she repeated the following verses:

Fate swore 'twould never cease to plague my life and make me rue.
     Thou hast not kept thine oath, O Fate; so look thou penance
     do.
Gladness is come and my belov'd is here to succour me; So rise
     unto the summoner of joys, and quickly too.
I had no faith in Paradise of olden time, until I won the nectar
     of its streams from lips of damask hue.

When Zoulmekan heard this, he pressed his sister to his breast, whilst, for the excess of his joy, the tears streamed from his eyes and he repeated the following verses:

Long time have I bewailed the severance of our loves, With tears
     that from my lids streamed down like burning rain,
And vowed that, if the days should reunite us two, My lips should
     never speak of severance again.
Joy hath o'erwhelmed me so, that, for the very stress Of that
     which gladdens me, to weeping I am fain.
Tears are become to you a habit, O my eyes, So that ye weep alike
     for gladness and for pain.

They sat awhile at the door of the litter, conversing, till she said to him, "Come with me into the litter and tell me all that has befallen thee, and I will do the like." So they entered and Zoulmekan said, "Do thou begin." Accordingly, she told him all that had happened to her since their separation and said, "Praised be God who hath vouchsafed thee to me and ordained that, even as we left our father together, so we shall return to him together! Now tell me how it has fared with thee since I left thee." So he told her all that had befallen him and how God had sent the stoker to him, and how he had journeyed with him and spent his money on him and tended him night and day. She praised the stoker for this, and Zoulmekan added, "Indeed, O my sister, the man hath dealt with me in such benevolent wise as would not a lover with his mistress or a father with his son, for that he fasted and gave me to eat, and went afoot, whilst he made me ride; and I owe my life to him." "God willing," said she, "we will requite him for all this, according to our power." Then she called the eunuch, who came and kissed Zoulmekan's hand, and she said, "Take thy reward for glad tidings, O face of good omen! It was thy hand reunited me with my brother; so the purse I gave thee and its contents are thine. But now go to thy master and bring him quickly to me." The eunuch rejoiced and going to the Chamberlain, summoned him to his mistress. Accordingly, he came in to his wife and finding Zoulmekan with her, asked who he was. So she told him all that had befallen them, first and last, and added, "Know, O Chamberlain, that thou hast gotten no slave-girl to wife: but the daughter of King Omar ben Ennuman: for I am Nuzhet ez Zeman, and this is my brother Zoulmekan." When the Chamberlain heard her story, he knew it for the manifest truth and was certified that he was become King Omar ben Ennuman's son-in-law and said to himself, "I shall surely be made governor of some province." Then he went up to Zoulmekan and gave him joy of his safety and re-union with his sister, and bade his servants forthwith make him ready a tent and one of the best of his own horses to ride. Then said Nuzhet ez Zeman, "We are now near my country and I would fain be alone with my brother, that we may enjoy one another's company and take our fill of each other, before we reach Baghdad; for we have been long parted." "Be it as thou wilt," replied the Chamberlain and going forth, sent them wax candles and various kinds of sweetmeats, together with three costly suits of clothes for Zoulmekan. Then he returned to the litter, and Nuzhet ez Zeman said to him, "Bid the eunuch find the stoker and give him a horse to ride and provide him a tray of food morning and evening, and let him be forbidden to leave us." The Chamberlain called the eunuch and charged him accordingly; so he took his pages with him and went out in search of the stoker, whom he found at the tail of the caravan, saddling his ass and preparing for flight. The tears were running down his cheeks, out of fear for himself and grief for his separation from Zoulmekan, and he was saying to himself, "Indeed, I warned him for the love of God, but he would not listen to me. O that I knew what is become of him!" Before he had done speaking, the eunuch came up and stood behind him, whilst the pages surrounded him. The stoker turned and seeing the eunuch and the pages round him, changed colour and trembled in every nerve for affright, exclaiming, "Verily, he knows not the value of the good offices I have done him! I believe he has denounced me to the eunuch and made me an accomplice in his offence." Then the eunuch cried out at him, saying, "Who was it recited the verses? Liar that thou art, why didst thou tell me that thou knewest not who it was, when it was thy companion? But now I will not leave thee till we come to Baghdad, and what betides thy comrade shall betide thee." Quoth the stoker, "Verily, what I feared has fallen on me." And he repeated the following verse:

'Tis e'en as I feared it would be: We are God's and to Him return we.

Then said the eunuch to the pages, "Take him off the ass." So they took him off the ass and setting him on a horse, carried him along with the caravan, surrounded by the pages, to whom said the eunuch, "If a hair of him be missing, it shall be the worse for you." But he bade them privily treat him with consideration and not humiliate him. When the stoker saw himself in this case, he gave himself up for lost and turning to the eunuch, said to him, "O chief, I am neither this youth's brother nor anywise akin to him; but I was a stoker in a bath and found him lying asleep on the fuel-heap." Then the caravan fared on and the stoker wept and imagined a thousand things in himself, whilst the eunuch walked by his side and told him nothing, but said to him, "You disturbed our mistress by reciting verses, thou and the lad: but have no fear for thyself." This he said, laughing at him the while in himself. When the caravan halted, they brought them food, and he and the eunuch ate from one dish. Then the eunuch let bring a gugglet of sherbet of sugar and after drinking himself, gave it to the stoker, who drank; but all the while his tears ceased not flowing, out of fear for himself and grief for his separation from Zoulmekan and for what had befallen them in their strangerhood. So they travelled on with the caravan, whilst the Chamberlain now rode by the door of his wife's litter, in attendance on Zoulmekan and the princess, and now gave an eye to the stoker, and Nuzhet ez Zeman and her brother occupied themselves with converse and mutual condolence; and so they did till they came within three days' journey of Baghdad. Here they alighted at eventide and rested till the morning, when they woke and were about to load the beasts, when behold, there appeared afar off a great cloud of dust, that obscured the air, till it became as dark as night. Thereupon the Chamberlain cried out to them to stay their preparations for departure, and mounting with his officers rode forward in the direction of the dust-cloud. When they drew near it, they perceived under it a numerous army, like the full flowing sea, with drums and flags and standards and horsemen and footmen. The Chamberlain marvelled at this: and when the troops saw him, there came forth from amongst them a troop of five hundred horse, who fell upon him and his suite and surrounded them, five for one; whereupon said he to them, "What is the matter and what are these troops, that ye use us thus?" "Who art thou?" asked they. "Whence comest thou and whither art thou bound?" And he answered, "I am the Chamberlain of the Viceroy of Damascus, King Sherkan, son of King Omar ben Ennuman, lord of Baghdad and of the land of Khorassan, and I bring tribute and presents from him to his father in Baghdad." When the horsemen heard speak of King Omar, they let their kerchiefs fall over their faces and wept, saying, "Alas! King Omar is dead, and he died poisoned. But fare ye on, no harm shall befall you, and join his Grand Vizier Dendan." When the Chamberlain heard this, he wept sore and exclaimed, "Alas, our disappointment in this our journey!" Then he and his suite rode on, weeping, till they reached the main body of the army and sought access to the Vizier Dendan, who called a halt and causing his pavilion to be pitched, sat down on a couch therein and commanded to admit the Chamberlain. Then he bade him be seated and questioned him; and he replied that he was the Viceroy's Chamberlain of Damascus and was bound to King Omar with presents and the tribute of Syria. The Vizier wept at the mention of King Omar's name and said, "King Omar is dead by poison, and the folk fell out amongst themselves as to whom they should make king after him, so that they were like to come to blows on this account; but the notables and grandees interposed and restored peace, and the people agreed to refer the matter to the decision of the four Cadis, who adjudged that we should go to Damascus and fetch thence the late king's son Sherkan and make him king over his father's realm. Some of them would have chosen his second son Zoulmekan, were it not that he and his sister Nuzhet ez Zeman set out five years ago for Mecca, and none knows what is become of them." When the Chamberlain heard this, he knew that his wife had told him the truth and grieved sore for the death of King Omar, what while he was greatly rejoiced, especially at the arrival of Zoulmekan, for that he would now become King of Baghdad in his father's room. So he turned to the Vizier and said to him, "Verily, your affair is a wonder of wonders! Know, O chief Vizier, that here, where you have encountered me, God giveth you rest from fatigue and bringeth you that you desire after the easiest of fashions, in that He restoreth to you Zoulmekan and his sister Nuzhet ez Zeman, whereby the matter is settled and made easy." When the Vizier heard this, he rejoiced greatly and said, "O Chamberlain, tell me their story and the reason of their having been so long absent." So he repeated to him the whole story and told him that Nuzhet ez Zeman was his wife. As soon as he had made an end of his tale, the Vizier sent for the amirs and viziers and grandees and acquainted them with the matter; whereat they rejoiced greatly and wondered at the happy chance. Then they went in to the Chamberlain and did their service to him, kissing the earth before him; and the Vizier Dendan also rose and stood before him, in token of respect. After this the Chamberlain held a great council, and he and the Vizier sat upon a throne, whilst all the amirs and officers of state took their places before them, according to their several ranks. Then they dissolved sugar in rose-water and drank, after which the amirs sat down to hold council and bade the rest mount and ride forward leisurely, till they should make an end of their deliberations and overtake them. So the officers kissed the earth before them and mounting, rode onward, preceded by the standards of war. When the amirs had finished their conference, they mounted and rejoined the troops; and the Chamberlain said to the Vizier Dendan, "I think it well to ride on before you, that I may notify Zoulmekan of your coming and choice of him as Sultan over the head of his brother Sherkan, and that I may make him ready a place befitting his dignity." "It is well thought," answered the Vizier. Then the Chamberlain rose and Dendan also rose, to do him honour, and brought him presents, which he conjured him to accept. On like wise did all the amirs and officers of state, calling down blessings on him and saying to him, "Mayhap thou will make mention of our case to King Zoulmekan and speak to him to continue us in our dignities." The Chamberlain promised what they asked and the Vizier Dendan sent with him tents and bade the tent-pitchers set them up at a days journey from the city. Then the Chamberlain mounted and rode forward, full of joy and saying in himself, "How blessed is this journey!" And indeed his wife was exalted in his eyes, she and her brother Zoulmekan. They made all haste, till they reached a place distant a day's journey from Baghdad, where he called a halt and bade his men alight and make ready a sitting place for the Sultan Zoulmekan, whilst he rode forward with his pages and alighting at a distance from Nuzhet ez Zeman's litter, commanded the eunuchs to ask the princess's leave to admit him. They did so and she gave leave; whereupon he went in to her and her brother and told them of the death of their father, King Omar ben Ennuman, and how the heads of the people had made Zoulmekan king over them in his stead; and he gave them joy of the kingdom. When they heard this, they both wept for their father and asked the manner of his death. "The news rests with the Vizier Dendan," replied the Chamberlain, "who will be here to-morrow with all the troops; and it only remains for thee, O prince, to do what they counsel, since they have chosen thee King; for if thou do not this, they will crown another, and thou canst not be sure of thyself with another king. Haply he will kill thee, or discord may befall between you and the kingdom pass out of your hands." Zoulmekan bowed his head awhile, then raised it and said, "I accept;" for indeed he saw that the Chamberlain had counselled him rightly and that there was no refusing; "but, O uncle, how shall I do with my brother Sherkan?" "O my son," replied the Chamberlain, "thy brother will be Sultan of Damascus, and thou Sultan of Baghdad; so gird up thy resolution and prepare to do what befits thy case." Then he presented him with a suit of royal raiment and a dagger of state, that the Vizier Dendan had brought with him, and leaving him, returned to the tent-pitchers and bade them choose out a spot of rising ground and pitch thereon a spacious and splendid pavilion, wherein the Sultan might sit to receive the amirs and grandees. Then he ordered the cooks to make ready rich food and serve it up and the water-carriers to set up the water-troughs. They did as he bade them and presently there arose a cloud of dust and spread till it obscured the horizon. After awhile, the breeze dispersed it, and there appeared under it the army of Baghdad and Khorassan, led by the Vizier Dendan, all rejoicing in the accession of Zoulmekan. Now Zoulmekan had donned the royal robes and girt himself with the sword of state: so the Chamberlain brought him a steed and he mounted, surrounded by the rest of the company on foot, and rode between the tents, till he came to the royal pavilion, where he entered and sat down, with the royal dagger across his thighs, whilst the Chamberlain stood in attendance on him and his servants stationed themselves in the vestibule of the pavilion, with drawn swords in their hands. Presently, up came the troops and sought admission to the King's presence; so the Chamberlain went in to Zoulmekan and asked his leave, whereupon he bade admit them, ten by ten. Accordingly, the Chamberlain went out to them and acquainted them with the King's orders, to which they replied, "We hear and obey." Then he took ten of them and carried them, through the vestibule, into the presence of the Sultan, whom when they saw, they were awed; but he received them with the utmost kindness and promised them all good. So they gave him joy of his safe return and invoked God's blessing upon him, after which they took the oath of fealty to him, and kissing the earth before him, withdrew. Then other ten entered and he received them in the same manner; and they ceased not to enter, ten by ten, till none was left but the Vizier Dendan. So he went in and kissed the earth before Zoulmekan, who rose to meet him, saying, "Welcome, O noble Vizier and father! Verily, thine acts are those of a precious counsellor, and judgment and foresight are in the hands of the Subtle, the All Wise." Then he commanded the Chamberlain to go out and cause the tables to be spread at once and bid the troops thereto. So they came and ate and drank. Moreover, he bade Dendan call a ten days' halt of the army, that he might be private with him and learn from him the manner of his father's death. Accordingly, the Vizier went forth and transmitted the King's wishes to the troops, who received his commands with submission and wished him eternity of glory. Moreover, he gave them leave to divert themselves and ordered that none of the lords in waiting should go in to the King for his service for the space of three days. Then Zoulmekan waited till nightfall, when he went in to his sister Nuzhet ez Zeman and said to her, "Dost thou know the fashion of my father's death or not?" "I have no knowledge of it," replied she, and drew a silken curtain before herself, whilst Zoulmekan seated himself without the curtain and sending for the Vizier, bade him relate to him in detail the manner of King Omar's death. "Know then, O King," replied Dendan, "that King Omar ben Ennuman, when he returned to Baghdad from his hunting excursion, enquired for thee and thy sister, but could not find you and knew that you had gone on the pilgrimage, whereat he was greatly concerned and angered, and his breast was contracted. He abode thus a whole year, seeking news of you from all who came and went, but none could give him any tidings of you. At the end of this time, as we were one day in attendance upon him, there came to us an old woman, as she were a devotee, accompanied by five damsels, high-bosomed maids, like moons, endowed with such beauty and grace as the tongue fails to describe; and to crown their perfections, they knew the Koran by heart and were versed in various kinds of learning and in the histories of bygone peoples. The old woman sought an audience of the King, and he bade admit her; whereupon she entered and kissed the ground before him. Now I was then sitting by his side, and he, seeing in her the signs of devoutness and asceticism, made her draw near and sit down by him. So she sat down and said to him, 'Know, O King, that with me are five damsels, whose like no king possesses, for they are endowed with beauty and grace and wit. They know the Koran and the traditions and are skilled in all manner of learning and in the history of bygone peoples. They are here before thee, at thy disposal; for it is by proof that folk are prized or disdained.' Thy late father looked at the damsels and their favour pleased him; so he said to them, 'Let each of you tell me something of what she knows of the history of bygone folk and peoples of times past.' Thereupon one of them came forward and kissing the earth before him, spoke as follows, 'Know, O King, that it behoves the man of good breeding to eschew impertinence and adorn himself with excellencies, observing the Divine precepts and shunning mortal sins; and to this he should apply himself with the assiduity of one who, if he stray therefrom, is lost; for the foundation of good breeding is virtuous behaviour. Know that the chief reason of existence is the endeavour after life everlasting and the right way thereto is the service of God: so it behoves thee to deal righteously with the people; and swerve not from this rubrick, for the mightier folk are in dignity, the more need they have of prudence and foresight; and indeed kings need this more than common folk, for the general cast themselves into affairs, without taking thought to the issue of them. Be thou prodigal both of thyself and thy treasure in the way of God and know that, if an enemy dispute with thee, thou mayst litigate with him and refute him with proof and ward thyself against him; but as for thy friend, there is none can judge between thee and him but righteousness and fair-dealing. Wherefore, choose thy friend for thyself, after thou hast proved him. If he be a man of religion, let him be zealous in observing the external letter of the Law and versed in its inner meaning, as far as may be: and if he be a man of the world, let him be free-born, sincere, neither ignorant nor perverse, for the ignorant man is such that even his parents might well flee from him, and a liar cannot be a true friend, for the word "friend"[FN#66] is derived from "truth,"[FN#67] that emanates from the bottom of the heart; and how can this be the case, when falsehood is manifest upon the tongue? Know, therefore, that the observance of the Law profits him who practices it: so love thy brother, if he be after this fashion, and do not cast him off, even if thou see in him that which thou mislikest; for a friend is not like a wife whom one can divorce and take again; but his heart is like glass; once broken, it cannot be mended. And God bless him who says:

Be careful not to hurt men's hearts nor work them aught of dole,
     For hard it is to bring again a once estranged soul;
And hearts, indeed, whose loves in twain by discord have been
     rent Are like a broken glass, whose breach may never be made
     whole.

The wise say (continued she), "The best of friends is he who is the most assiduous in good counsel, the best of actions is that which is fairest in its result, and the best of praise is (not) that which is in the mouths of men." It is said also, "It behoves not the believer to neglect to thank God, especially for two favours, health and reason." Again, "He who honoureth himself, his lust is a light matter to him, and he who makes much of small troubles, God afflicts him with great ones: he who obeys his own inclination neglects his duties and he who listens to the slanderer loses the true friend. He who thinks well of thee, do thou fulfil his thought of thee. He who exceeds in contention sins, and he who does not beware of upright is not safe from the sword."

Now will I tell thee somewhat of the duties of judges. Know, O King, that no judgment serves the cause of justice except it be given after deliberation, and it behoves the judge to treat all people alike, to the intent that the rich and noble may not be encouraged to oppression nor the poor and weak despair of justice. He should extract proof from him who complains and impose an oath upon him who denies; and compromise is lawful between Muslims, except it be a compromise sanctioning an unlawful or forbidding a lawful thing. If he have done aught during the day, of which he is doubtful, the judge should reconsider it and apply his discernment to elucidating it, that (if he have erred) he may revert to the right, for to do justice is a religious obligation and to return to that which is right is better than perseverance in error. Then he should study the precedents and the law of the case and do equal justice between the suitors, fixing his eye upon the truth and committing his affair to God, to whom belong might and majesty. Let him require proof of the complainant, and if he adduce it, let him put the defendant to his oath; for this is the ordinance of God. He should receive the testimony of competent Muslim witnesses, one against another, for God the Most High hath commanded judges to judge by externals, He Himself taking charge of the secret things. It behoves the judge also to avoid giving judgment, whilst suffering from stress of pain or hunger, and that in his decisions between the folk he seek to please God, for he whose intent is pure and who is at peace with his conscience, God shall guarantee him against what is between him and the people. Quoth Ez Zuhri,[FN#68] "There are three things, which if they be found in a Cadi, he should be deposed; namely, if he honour the base, love praise and fear dismissal." It is related that Omar ben Abdulaziz once deposed a Cadi, who asked him why he had done so. "It has come to my knowledge," replied Omar, "that thy speech is greater than thy condition." It is said also that Iskender[FN#69] said to his Cadi, "I have invested thee with this function and committed to thee in it my soul and my honour and manhood; so do thou guard it with thy soul and thine understanding." To his cook he said, "Thou art the governor of my body; so look thou tender it." To his secretary he said, "Thou art the controller of my wit: so do thou watch over me in what thou writest for me."'

With this the first damsel retired and a second one came forward and kissing the earth seven times before the King thy father, spoke as follows: 'The sage Lucman[FN#70] said to his son, "There are three men whom thou shalt not know, but in three several cases; thou shalt not know the merciful man but in time of anger, nor the brave man but in time of war nor thy friend but when thou hast need of him." It is said that the oppressor shall repent, though the people praise him, and that the oppressed is safe, though the people blame him. Quoth God the Most High, "[FN#71] Think not that those who rejoice in their deeds and love to be praised for that which they have not done, shall escape punishment; indeed there is reserved for them a grievous punishment." Quoth Mohammed (on whom be peace and salvation), "Works are according to intentions, and to each man is attributed that which he intends." He saith also, "There is a part of the human body, which being whole, all the rest is whole, and which being corrupt, the whole body is corrupt; it is the heart. And indeed the heart is the most marvellous part of man, since it is that which ordereth his whole affair; if covetise stir in it, desire destroys him, and if affliction master it, anguish slays him: if anger rage in it, danger is sore upon him, and if it be blest with contentment, he is safe from discontent; if fear overtake it, he is filled with mourning, and if calamity smite it, affliction betideth him. If a man gain wealth, his heart is peradventure diverted thereby from the remembrance of his Lord, and if poverty afflict him, his heart is distracted by care, or if disquietude waste his heart, weakness reduces him to impotence. So, in any case, there is nothing will profit him but that he be mindful of God and occupy himself with gaining his living and securing his place in Paradise." It was asked of a certain wise man, "Who is the most ill-conditioned of men?" "He," replied the sage, "whose lusts master his manhood and whose mind exceeds in the pursuit of objects of high emprise, so that his knowledge increases and his excuse diminishes; and how excellent is what the poet says:

The freest of all men from need of the arrogant meddler am I, The
     fool who's unguided of God and judges the folk all awry;
For wealth and good gifts are a loan and each man at last shall
     be clad As it were in a mantle, with that which hid in his
     bosom doth lie.
If thou enter on aught by a door that is other than right, thou
     wilt err; But the right door will dead thee aright, for
     sure, if thou enter there by."

As for anecdotes of devotees (continued the maiden), quoth Hisham ben Besher, "I said to Omar ben Ubeid, 'What is true devoutness?' and he answered, 'The Prophet (whom God bless and preserve) hath expounded it, when he says, "The devout is he who takes thought to death and calamity and prefers that which is eternal to that which passes away, who counts not the morrow as of his days, but reckons himself among the dead."'" And it is related that Abou Dherr[FN#72] used to say, "Poverty is dearer to me than riches and sickness than health." Quoth one of the listeners, "May God have mercy on Abou Dherr! For my part, I say, 'He who puts his trust in the goodness of the election of God the Most High should be content with that condition of which the Almighty hath made choice for him.'" Quoth one of the Companions (of the Prophet), "Ibn Ali Aqfa[FN#73] prayed with us the morning-prayer one day. When he had done, he read the seventy-fourth chapter (of the Koran), beginning, 'O thou that coverest thyself!' till he came to where God says, 'When the trumpet is blown,' and fell down dead." It is said that Thabit el Benani wept till he well nigh lost his eyes. They brought him a man to tend him, who said to him, "I will cure thee, provided thou do my bidding." "In what respect?" asked Thabit. "In that thou leave weeping," replied the physician. "What is the use of my eyes," rejoined Thabit, "if they do not weep?" Said a man to Mohammed ibn Abdallah, "Exhort me." "I exhort thee," replied he, "to be an abstinent possessor in this world and a greedy slave in the next." "How so?" asked the other; and Mohammed said, "The abstinent man in this world possesses both this world and the world to come." Quoth Ghauth ben Abdallah, "There were two brothers among the people of Israel, one of whom said to the other, 'What is the worst thing thou hast done?' 'One day,' answered the other, 'I came upon a nest of young birds; so I took out one and threw it back into the nest; but the others drew apart from it. This is the worst thing I ever did; so now tell me what is the worst thing thou hast ever done.' 'When I betake myself to prayer,' rejoined the first, 'I am fearful to have done so only for the sake of the reward. This is the worst thing I have done.' Now their father heard what they said and exclaimed, 'O my God, if they speak the truth, take them to Thyself!' Quoth one of the wise men, 'Verily these were of the most virtuous of children.'" Quoth Said ben Jubeir,[FN#74] "I was once in company with Fuzaleh ibn Ubeid and said to him, 'Give me some good counsel.' 'Bear in mind these two things,' replied he. 'Attribute no partner to God, and do no hurt to any of His creatures.' And he repeated the following verses:

Be as thou wilt and banish dread and care, For God is bountiful
     and debonair;
So of two things, the doing hurt to men And giving God a partner,
     thou beware."

And how well saith the poet:

If thou neglect with pious works for death to furnish thee And
     after meet with one equipped with store of piety,
Thou wilt, when all too late, repent that thou wert not like him
     And didst not for the other world make ready as did he.'

Then the second damsel withdrew and a third came forward and spoke as follows. 'Indeed, the chapter of piety is a very wide one; but I will mention what occurs to me thereof, concerning pious men of old time. Quoth a certain holy man, "I rejoice in death, though I am not assured of ease therein, save that I know death interposes between a man and his works; so I hope for multiplication of good works and cessation of evil ones." Itaa es Selemi, when he had made an end of an exhortation, was wont to tremble and weep sore. It was asked him why he did this and he replied, "I purpose (or am about) to enter upon a grave matter, and it is the standing up before God the Most High, to do in accordance with my exhortation." In like manner Zein el Aabidin[FN#75] was wont to tremble when he rose to pray. Being asked the reason of this, he replied, "Do ye not know before whom I stand and to whom I address myself?" It is said that there lived near Sufyan eth Thauri[FN#76] a blind man who, when the month of Ramazan came, went out with the folk to pray, but remained silent and hung back (in repeating the prayers). Said Sufyan, "On the Day of Resurrection, he shall come with the people of the Koran[FN#77] and they will be distinguished from their fellows by excess of honour." Quoth Sufyan, "Were the soul stablished in the heart as it befits, it would fly away, for joy and longing for Paradise and grief and fear of hell-fire." It is related also of Sufyan that he said, "To look upon the face of a tyrant is a sin."'

Then the third damsel retired and a fourth came forward, who said, 'I will treat of sundry traditions of pious men. It is related that Bishr el Hafi[FN#78] said, "I once heard Khalid say, 'Beware of secret hypocrisy.' Quoth I, 'What is secret hypocrisy?' He answered, 'When one of you, in praying, prolongs his inclinations and prostrations till a cause of impurity[FN#79] come upon him.'" Quoth one of the sages, "The doing of good works expiates evil deeds." Quoth Ibrahim ben Adhem[FN#80], "I sought assiduously of Bishr el Hafi that he should acquaint me with some of the theological mysteries; but he said, 'O my son, it behoves us not to teach this knowledge to every one; of every hundred, five, even as the poor-rate upon money.' I thought his answer excellent, and when I went to pray, I saw Bishr praying: so I stood behind him, inclining myself in prayer, till the Muezzin made his call. Then rose a man of poor appearance and said, 'O folk, beware of truth, when it is hurtful, for there is no harm in beneficial falsehood, and in compulsion is no choice: speech profits not in the absence of good qualities nor is there any hurt in silence, when they exist.' Presently I saw Bishr drop a danic[FN#81] so I picked it up and exchanged it for a dirhem, which I gave him. 'I will not take it,' said he. Quoth I, 'It is a fair exchange;' but he answered, 'I cannot barter the riches of the world to come for those of this world.'" It is reported also that Bishr's sister once went to Ahmed ben Hembel[FN#82] and said to him, "O Imam of the Faith, we are a family that work for our living by day and spin thread by night; and oftentimes, the cressets of the watch of Baghdad pass by and we on the roof spinning by their light. Is this forbidden to us?" "Who art thou?" asked Ahmed. "I am the sister of Bishr el Hafi," replied she. "O household of Bishr," rejoined the Imam, "I shall never cease to quafl full draughts of piety and continence from your hearts." Quoth one of the learned, "When God wills well to any man, he opens upon him the gate of action." Malik ibn Dinar,[FN#83] when he passed through the bazaar and saw aught that he wished for, was wont to say, "O soul, take patience, for I will not accord to thee what thou desirest." He said also (may God accept of him), "The salvation of the soul lies in resistance to its desires and its ruin in submission to them." Quoth Mensour ben Ammar,[FN#84] "I set out one year on the pilgrimage and was making for Mecca by way of Cufa, when, one overcast night, I heard a voice crying out from the womb of the night and saying, 'O my God, by Thy power and Thy glory, I meant not by my disobedience to transgress against Thee, for indeed I am not ignorant of Thee; but my fault is one Thou didst foreordain to me from all eternity; so do Thou pardon me my sin, for indeed I disobeyed Thee of my ignorance!' When he had made an end of his prayer, he recited aloud the verse, 'O ye who believe, keep yourselves and your households from the fire whose fuel is men and stones!"[FN#85] Then I heard a fall, but knew not what it was and passed on. On the morrow, as we went our way, we fell in with a funeral train, followed by an old woman, whose strength had left her. I questioned her of the dead, and she replied, 'This is the funeral of a man who passed by us yesterday, whilst my son was standing at prayer. The latter recited a verse from the Book of God the Most High, when behold the man's gall-bladder burst and he fell dead.'"

Therewith the fourth damsel retired and the fifth, coming forward, spoke as follows: 'I also will repeat what occurs to me in the way of devotional anecdotes. Meslemeh ben Dinar used to say, "The making sound the secret thoughts covers sins, both great and small, and when the believer is resolved to leave sinning, help comes to him." Also, "Every piece of good fortune, that does not draw one nearer to God, is a calamity, for a little of this world distracts from a great deal of the world to come and a great deal of the first makes thee forget the whole of the latter." It was asked of Abou Hazim,[FN#86] "Who is the most fortunate of men?" "He who spends his life in the service of God," replied he. "And who is the most foolish of mankind?" asked the other. "He who sells his part in the world to come for the worldly goods of others," answered Abou Hazim. It is reported that Moses (on whom be peace), when he came to the waters of Midian, exclaimed, "O my Lord, indeed I am in need of that which Thou sendest down to me of good!" And he asked of his Lord and not of his folk. There came two damsels and he drew water for them and gave not precedence to the shepherds. When they returned to their father Jethro (on whom be peace!) they told him, and he said to one of them, "Haply, he is hungry: go back to him and bid him hither." So she covered her face and returning to Moses, said to him, "My father bids thee to him, that he may reward thee for having drawn water for us." Moses was averse to this and unwilling to follow her. Now she was a woman large in the buttocks, and the wind blowing upon her gown, discovered this; which when Moses saw, he lowered his eyes and said to her, "Do thou walk behind me." So she followed him, till he came to Jethro's house, where the evening meal was ready. "O Moses," said Jethro, "I desire to reward thee for having drawn water for them." But he answered, "I am of a people who sell nothing of the fashion of the next world for earthly gold and silver." "O youth," rejoined Jethro, "nevertheless thou art my guest, and it is my wont and that of my fathers to do honour to the guest by setting food before him." So Moses sat down and ate. Then Jethro hired Moses for eight pilgrimages, that is to say, eight years, and appointed to him for hire the hand of his daughter, and Moses' service to him was to stand for her dowry. As says the Holy Writ of him (quoth Jethro), "I am minded to marry thee to one of these my daughters, on condition that thou serve me eight years, and if thou serve out the ten, it will be of thine own will, for I do not wish to press hardly on thee."[FN#87] A certain man once said to one of his friends, "Thou hast made me desolate, for that I have not seen thee this long while." Quoth the other, "I have been distracted from thee by Ibn Shihab; dost thou know him?" "Yes," replied the first; "he hath been my neighbour these thirty years, but I have never spoken to him." "Indeed," rejoined his friend, "thou forgettest God in forgetting thy neighbour! If thou lovedst God, thou wouldst love thy neighbour. Knowst thou not that a neighbour has a claim upon his neighbour, even as the right of kindred?" Quoth Hudheifeh, "We entered Mecca with Ibrahim ben Adhem,[FN#88] and whilst making the prescribed circuits about the Kaabeh, we met with Shekic the Balkhi. Quoth Ibrahim to Shekic, 'What is your fashion in your country?' 'When we are vouchsafed [food],' replied he, 'we eat, and when we suffer hunger, we take patience.' 'This is the fashion of the dogs of Balkh,' rejoined Ibrahim. 'But we, when we are blest with plenty, we do honour to God, and when we suffer famine, we praise Him.' And Shekic seated himself before Ibrahim and said to him, 'Thou art my master.'" Quoth Mohammed ben Amran, "A man once asked of Hatim el Asemm[FN#89], 'What maketh thee to trust in God?' 'Two things,' replied he, 'I know that what God has appointed for my daily bread shall be eaten by none but myself; so my heart is at rest as to that; and I know that I was not created without God's knowledge and am abashed before Him.'"

Then the fifth damsel retired and the old woman came forward and kissing the earth before thy father nine times, spoke as follows: 'Thou hast heard, O King, what these all have said on the subject of piety; and I will follow their example in relating what I have heard of the famous men of times past. It is said that the Imam es Shafi[FN#90] divided the night into three portions, the first for study, the second for sleep and the third for prayer. The Imam Abou Henifeh[FN#91] was wont also to pass half the night in prayer. One day a man pointed him out to another, as he passed, and said, "Yonder man watches the whole night." Quoth Abou Henifeh, "When I heard this, I was abashed before God, to hear myself praised for what was not in me; so, after this, I used to watch the whole night." Er Rebya relates that Es Shafi used to recite the whole Koran seventy times over during the month of Ramazan, and that in prayer. Quoth Es Shafi (may God accept of him!), "For ten years I never ate my fill of barley-bread, for satiety hardens the heart and deadens the wit and induces sleep and enfeebles one from standing up (to pray)." It is reported of Abdallah ben Mohammed es Sekra that he said, "I was once talking with Omar, and he said to me, 'Never saw I a more God-fearing or eloquent man than Mohammed ben Idris es Shafi. I went out one day with El Harith ben Lebib es Suffar, who was a disciple of El Muzeni[FN#92] and had a fine voice, and he read the saying or the Most High, 'On that day, they shall not speak nor shall it be permitted to them to excuse themselves.'[FN#93] I saw Es Shafi's colour change; his skin shuddered, and he was violently moved and fell down senseless. When he revived, he said, 'I seek refuge with God from the stead of the liars and the fate of the negligent! O my God, the hearts of the wise abase themselves before Thee. O my God, of Thy goodness, accord to me the remission of my sins, adorn me with Thy protection and pardon me my shortcomings, by the magnanimity of Thine essence!' Then I rose and went away." Quoth one of the pious, "When I entered Baghdad, Es Shafi was there. I sat down on the river-bank, to make the ablution before prayer; and as I was thus occupied, there came up one who said to me, 'O youth, make thine ablution well and God will make it well for thee in this world and the world to come.' I turned and saw a man, with a company of people after him. So I hastened to finish my ablutions and followed him. Presently, he turned and said to me, 'Dost thou want aught?' 'Yes,' answered I; 'I desire that thou teach me somewhat of that which God the Most High hath taught thee.' 'Know, then,' said he, 'that he who believes in God the Most High shall be saved and he who is jealous of his faith shall be delivered from destruction, and he who practices abstinence in this world, his eyes shall be solaced on the morrow (of death). Shall I tell thee any more?' 'Assuredly,' replied I. 'Abstain from the things of this world,' continued he, 'and be greedy of the good of the world to come. Be sincere and faithful in all thy dealings, and thou shalt be saved with the elect.' Then he went on and I asked about him and was told that he was the Imam es Shafi. Es Shafi was wont to say, "I would have the folk profit by this wisdom (of mine), on condition that none of it be attributed to me." Also, "I never disputed with any one, but I would that God the Most High should give him the knowledge of the Truth and aid him to expound it; nor did I ever dispute with any, but for the showing forth of the Truth, and I recked not whether God should manifest it by my lips or his." He said also (may God accept of him!), "If thou fear to grow conceited of thy learning, bethink thee Whose grace thou seekest and what good it is thou yearnest after and what punishment thou dreadest." It was told to Abou Henifeh that the Commander of the Faithful Abou Jaafer el Mensour had named him Cadi and ordered him a present of ten thousand dirhems; but he would not accept of this; and when the day came on which the money was to be paid, he prayed the morning-prayer, then covered his head with his cloak and spoke not. When the Khalif's messenger came with the money, he went in to the Imam and accosted him, but he would not speak to him. Quoth the messenger, "This money is lawfully thine." "I know that it is lawfully mine," replied the Imam; "but I abhor that the love of tyrants should take hold upon my heart." "Canst thou not go in to them and guard thyself from loving them?" asked the other. "Can I look to enter the sea, without wetting my clothes?" answered Abou Henifeh. Another of Es Shafi's sayings is as follows:

O soul, if thou be fain to do as I shall say, Thou shalt be free
     from need and great of grace for aye.
Put far away from thee ambitions and desires, For lo, how oft a
     wish to death hath led the way!

Among the sayings of Sufyan eth Thauri, with which he admonished Ali ben el Hassan es Selemi was the following, "Look that thou practice sincerity and beware of falsehood and treachery and hypocrisy and presumption for God annuls good works with either of these things. Borrow not but of Him who is merciful to His debtors and let thy comrade be one who will cause thee to abstain from the world. Let the thought of death be ever present with thee and be constant in asking pardon of God and beseeching of Him peace for what remains of thy life. Give loyal counsel to every true-believer, when he asks thee concerning the things of his faith, and beware of betraying a believer, for he who betrays a believer betrays God and His apostle. Avoid dissension and litigation and leave that which awakens doubt in thee, betaking;, thyself rather to those things that will not disquiet thee; so shalt thou be at peace. Enjoin that which is just and forbid that which is evil, so shalt thou be beloved of God. Make fair thine inner man, and God shall make fair thine outer man. Accept the excuse of him who excuses himself to thee and hate none of the true-believers. Draw near unto those that reject thee and forgive those that oppress thee; so shalt thou be the companion of the prophets. Commit thine affair to God, both in public and in private, and fear Him with the fear of one who knows that he must die and be raised again to stand before the Almighty, remembering that thou art destined for one of two dwellings, either Paradise the glorious or the flaming fire."' Having spoken thus, the old woman sat down beside the damsels.

When the late King thy father heard their discourse, he knew that they were the most accomplished of the people of their time and seeing their beauty and grace and the greatness of their learning, he showed them all favour. Moreover, he turned to the old woman and entreated her with honour, setting apart for her and her damsels the palace that had been the lodging of the princess Abrizeh, to which he let carry all that they needed of the best. Here they abode ten days, and whenever the King visited them, he found the old woman absorbed in prayer, watching by night and fasting by day; wherefore love of her took hold upon his heart and he said to me, 'O Vizier, verily this old woman is a pious soul, and reverence for her is strong in my heart.' On the eleventh day, the King visited her, that he might pay her the price of the five damsels; but she said to him, 'O King, know that the price of these passes the competence of men, for I seek for them neither gold nor silver nor jewels, be it little or much.' The King wondered at this and said, 'O my lady, what is their price?' 'I will not sell them to thee,' replied she, 'save on condition that thou fast a whole month, watching by night and fasting by day for the love of God the Most High: but if thou wilt do this, they are thine, to use as thou pleasest.' The King wondered at the perfectness of her piety and devotion and abnegation and she was magnified in his eyes, and he said, 'May God make this pious old woman to profit us!' So he agreed to her proposal, and she said to him, 'I will help thee with my prayers.' Then she called for a gugglet of water and muttered over it words in an unknown language and abode awhile, speaking over it things that we understood not. Then she covered it with a cloth and sealing it up, gave it to the King, saying, 'When thou has fasted ten days, break thy fast on the eleventh night with what is in this cup, for it will root out the love of the world from thy heart and fill it with light and faith. As for me, I purpose to go out to-morrow to visit my brethren of the invisible world, for I yearn after them, and I will return to thee when the ten days are past.' So the King took the gugglet and setting it apart in a closet of his palace, locked the door and put the key in his pocket. Next day, the old woman departed and the King entered upon his fast. When he had accomplished the first ten days thereof, he opened the gugglet and drank what was therein and found it cordial to his stomach. Within the next ten days, the old woman returned, bringing sweetmeats wrapped in a green leaf, like no leaf of a tree. She went in to the King and saluted him; and when he saw her he rose to meet her, saying, 'Welcome, O pious lady!' 'O King,' said she, 'the spirits salute thee, for I told them of thee, and they rejoiced in thee and have sent thee this cake, which is of the sweetmeats of the other world. Do thou break thy fast on it at the end of the day.' The King rejoiced greatly at this and exclaimed, 'Praised be God who hath given me brethren of the invisible world!' And he thanked the old woman and kissed her hands and entreated her and the damsels with exceeding honour. Then he fasted till twenty days were past, at the end of which time the old woman came to him and said, 'Know, O King, that I told the spirits of the love that is between thee and me and how I had left the damsels with thee, and they were glad that the damsels should belong to a King like thee; for they were wont, when they saw them, to be strenuous in offering up effectual prayer on their behalf. So I would fain carry them to the spirits, that they may benefit by their favours, and they shall surely not return to thee without some treasure of the treasures of the earth, that thou, after the completion of thy fast, mayst occupy thyself with their dress and help thyself to the fulfilment of thy wishes with that which they shall bring thee.' The King thanked her and said, 'But that I fear to cross thee, I would not accept the treasure or aught else: but when wilt thou set out with them?' 'On the seven-and-twentieth night,' replied she; 'and I will bring them back to thee at the end of the month, by which time thou wilt have accomplished thy fast and they will have had their courses and be free from impurity. Then they shall become thine and be at thy disposal. By Allah, each one of them is worth many times thy kingdom!' 'I know it, O pious lady,' replied the King. Then said the old woman, 'If there be any one in thy palace who is dear to thee, thou wouldst do well to send her with me, that she may find solace and seek a blessing of the spirits.' Quoth the King, 'I have a Greek slave called Sufiyeh, by whom God hath vouchsafed me two children, a son and a daughter: but they were lost years ago. Take her with thee, that she may get the spirits' blessing: it may be they will pray God for her, that her children may be restored to her.' 'It is well,' replied the old woman; for indeed this was what she most desired. The King gave not over fasting till the seven-and-twentieth night, when the old woman said to him, 'O my son, I am about to go to the spirits; so bring me Sufiyeh.' Accordingly, he sent for her and delivered her to the old woman, who placed her with the other damsels. Then she went in to her chamber and bringing out a sealed cup, presented it to the King, saying, 'On the thirtieth day, do thou go to the bath and when thou comest out, enter one of the closets in thy palace and drink the liquor that is in this cup. Then sleep, and thou shalt attain what thou seekest, and peace be on thee!' The King was glad and thanked her and kissed her hands. Quoth she, 'I commend thee to God;' and he said, 'When shall I see thee again, O pious lady? Indeed I love not to part with thee.' Then she called down blessings on him and departed with the five damsels and the Princess Sufiyeh; whilst the King fasted other three days, till the end of the month, when he went to the bath and coming out, shut himself up in a closet, commanding that none should go in to him. Then he drank what was in the cup and lay down to sleep. We sat awaiting him till the end of the day, but he did not come out and we said, 'Belike he is tired with the bath and with watching by night and fasting by day, and sleepeth.' So we waited till next day; but still he did not come out. Then we stood at the closet-door and cried aloud, so haply he might awake and ask what was the matter. But nothing came of this: so at last we lifted the door off its hinges and going in, found the King dead, with his flesh torn into strips and his bones broken in pieces. When we saw him in this case, it was grievous to us, and we took up the cup and found in its cover a piece of paper, on which was written the following, 'He who does evil leaves no regrets behind him. This is the reward of him who plays the traitor with kings' daughters and debauches them: and we make known to all who happen upon this scroll that Sherkan, when he came to our country, debauched our Princess Abrizeh; nor did this suffice him, but he must take her from us and bring her to you. Then he (Omar ben Ennuman) (debauched her and) sent her away, in company of a black slave, who slew her and we found her lying dead in the desert. This is none of kings' fashion, and he who did this is requited with nought but his deserts. So do ye suspect none of having killed him, for none slew him but the cunning witch, whose name is Dhat ed Dewahi. And behold, I have taken the King's wife Sufiyeh and have carried her to her father King Afridoun of Constantinople. Moreover, we will assuredly make war upon you and kill you and take your land from you, and ye shall be cut off even to the last man, nor shall there be left of you a living soul, no, nor a blower of the fire, except he serve the Cross and the Girdle.' When we read this, we knew that the old woman had cheated us and carried out her plot against us: so we cried out and buffeted our faces and wept sore. However, weeping availed us nothing and the troops fell out as to whom they should make Sultan. Some would have thee and others thy brother Sherkan; and we ceased not to wrangle about this for the space of a month, at the end of which time certain of us drew together and agreed to repair to thy brother Sherkan. So we set out and journeyed on till we fell in with thee: and this is the manner of the death of King Omar ben Ennuman.'

When the Vizier had made an end of his story, Zoulmekan and his sister wept, and the Chamberlain wept also. Then said the latter to Zoulmekan, "O King, weeping will profit thee nothing; nor will aught avail thee but that thou fortify thy heart and strengthen thy resolution and stablish thy power; for verily he is not dead who leaves the like of thee behind him." So Zoulmekan gave over weeping and causing his throne to be set up without the pavilion, commanded the army to pass in review before him. Then he sat down on the throne, with the Chamberlain by his side and all the arm-bearers behind him, whilst the Vizier Dendan and the rest of the amirs and grandees stood before him, each in his several room. Then said Zoulmekan to Dendan, "Acquaint me with the particulars of my father's treasures." Dendan answered, "I hear and obey," and gave him to know the amount and nature of the late King's treasure and what was in the treasury of money and jewels and other precious things. So Zoulmekan gave largesse to the army and bestowed a sumptuous dress of honour on the Vizier Dendan, saying, "I confirm thee in thine office." Whereupon Dendan kissed the earth before him and wished him long life. Then he bestowed dresses of honour on the amirs, after which he turned to the Chamberlain and said, "Bring out before us the tribute of Damascus, that is with thee." So he laid before him the chests of money and jewels and rarities, and he took them and divided them all amongst the troops, till there was nothing left. And the amirs kissed the ground before him and wished him long life, saying, "Never saw we a king, who gave the like of these gifts." Then they all went away to their own tents, and when it was morning, Zoulmekan gave orders for departure. So they set out and journeyed for three days, till on the fourth day they drew near to Baghdad. When they entered the city, they found it decorated, and King Zoulmekan went up to his father's palace and sat down on the throne, whilst the amirs of the army and the Vizier Dendan and the Chamberlain of Damascus stood before him. Then he bade his private secretary write a letter to his brother Sherkan, acquainting him with all that had passed and adding, "As soon as thou hast read this letter, make ready thine affair and join us with thine army, that we may make war upon the infidels and take vengeance on them for our father and wipe out the stain upon our honour." Then he folded the letter and sealed it and said to Dendan, "None shall carry this letter but thou; and I would have thee speak my brother fair and say to him, 'If thou have a mind to thy father's kingdom, it is thine, and thy brother shall be Viceroy for thee in Damascus; for to this effect am I instructed by him."' So the Vizier went out from before him and proceeded to make ready for his journey. Then Zoulmekan set apart a magnificent house for the stoker and furnished it with sumptuous furniture and lodged him therein. One day, he went out a-hunting and as he was returning to Baghdad, one of the amirs presented him with horses of fine breeds and damsels whose beauty beggars description. One of the damsels pleased him: so he went in to her and lay with her, and she conceived by him forthright. After awhile, the Vizier Dendan returned from Damascus, bringing him news of his brother Sherkan and that he was then on his way to him, and said to him, "Thou wouldst do well to go out to meet him." Zoulmekan replied, "I hear and obey;" and riding forth with his grandees a day's journey from Baghdad, pitched his tents and halted to await the coming of his brother. Next morning, the army of Syria appeared, with King Sherkan in its midst, a bold cavalier, a fierce lion and a warrior against whom none might make head. As the squadrons drew nigh and the dust-clouds neared and the troops came up with banners flying, Zoulmekan and his attendants rode forward to meet Sherkan; and when the King saw his brother, he would have dismounted, but Sherkan conjured him not to do so and himself set foot to the ground and walked towards him. As soon as he reached Zoulmekan, the latter threw himself upon him, and they embraced and wept and condoled with one another. Then they mounted and rode onward, they and their troops, till they reached Baghdad, where they alighted and went up to the royal palace and passed the night there. Next morning, Zoulmekan went forth and bade proclaim a holy war and summon the troops from all parts. They abode a whole month, awaiting the coming of the levies, whilst the folk poured in from all parts of the kingdom, and every one who came they entreated with honour and munificence and promised him all manner of good. Then Sherkan said to Zoulmekan, "O my brother, tell me thy history." So he told him all that had befallen him, first and last, including the benevolent dealing of the stoker with him. "Hast thou requited him his kindness to thee?" asked Sherkan. "Not yet," replied Zoulmekan, "but, God willing, I will surely do so, as soon as I return from this expedition and am at leisure to attend to him." Therewith, Sherkan was certified that his sister Nuzhet ez Zeman had told him the truth; but he concealed what had passed between them and contented himself with sending his salutation to her by her husband the Chamberlain. She returned his greeting in the same fashion, calling down blessings on him and enquiring after her daughter Kuzia Fekan, to which he replied that the child was well and in all health and safety. Then he went to his brother to take counsel with him for departure; and Zoulmekan said, "O my brother, we will set out as soon as the army is complete and the Arabs have come in from all parts." So he bade make ready the wheat and other provisions and munitions of war and went in to his wife, who was now five months gone with child; and he put under her hand mathematicians and astrologers, to whom he appointed stipends and allowances. Then, three months after the arrival of the army of Syria, as soon as the troops were all assembled and the Arabs had come in, he set out, at the head of his troops, with his brother Sherkan on his right and his brother-in-law the Chamberlain on his left hand. The name of the general of the army of the Medes was Rustem and that of the general of the army of the Turks Behram. So the squadrons broke up and marched forward and the companies and battalions filed past in battle array, till the whole army was in motion. They ceased not to fare on for the space of a month; halting three days a week to rest, by reason of the greatness of the host, till they came to the country of the Greeks; and as they drew near, the people of the villages and hamlets took fright at them and fled to Constantinople.

To return to Dhat ed Dewahi. As soon as she reached her own country and felt herself in safety, she said to her son, King Herdoub, "Be consoled; for I have avenged thy daughter Abrizeh and killed King Omar ben Ennuman and brought back the Princess Sufiyeh. So now let us go to the King of Constantinople and carry him back his daughter and tell him what has happened, that he may be on his guard and prepare his forces and that we may do the like; for I know that the Muslims will not delay to attack us." "Let us wait till they draw near our country," replied Herdoub, "that we may make us ready meantime and assemble our power." Accordingly they fell to levying their forces and preparing for war, so that by the time the news of the Muslims' advance reached them, they were ready for defence. Then King Herdoub and his mother set out for Constantinople, and King Afridoun, hearing of the arrival of the King of the Greeks, came forth to meet him and asked how it was with him and the cause of his visit. So Herdoub acquainted him with the doing; of his mother Dhat ed Dewahi, how she had slain the Muslim king and recovered the Princess Sufiyeh and that the Muslims had assembled their forces and were on their way to attack them, wherefore it behoved that they two should join powers and meet them. King Afridoun rejoiced in the recovery of his daughter and the death of King Omar and sent to all countries, to seek succour and acquaint the folk with the reason of the slaying of King Omar. So the Christian troops flocked to him from all quarters, and before three months were past, the army of the Greeks was complete, besides which there joined themselves to him the French and Germans and Ragusans and Genoese and Venetians and all the hosts of the Pale Faces and warriors from all the lands of the Franks, and the earth was straitened on them by reason of their multitude. Then Afridoun the Great King commanded to depart; so they set out from Constantinople and ceased not to defile through the city for the space of ten days. They fared on till they reached a spacious valley, hard by the salt sea, where they halted three days; and on the fourth day, they were about to set out again, when news came to them of the approach of the army of Islam and the defenders of the faith of the Best of Men.[FN#94] So they halted other three days, and on the seventh day, they espied a great cloud of dust which spread till it covered the whole country; nor was an hour of the day past before the dust lifted and melted away into the air, and its darkness was pierced and dispersed by the starry sheen of lance-points and spear-heads and the flashing of sword-blades. Presently, there appeared the banners of Islam and the Mohammedan ensigns and the mailed horsemen surged forward, like the letting loose of the billows of the sea, clad in cuirasses as they were clouds girdled about moons. Thereupon the Christian horsemen rode forward and the two hosts met, like two seas clashing together, and eyes fell upon eyes. The first to spur into the fight was the Vizier Dendan, with the army of Syria, thirty thousand cavaliers, followed by Rustem, the general of the Medes, and Behram, the general of the Turks, with other twenty thousand horse, behind whom came the men of the sea-coast, sheathed in glittering mail as they were full moons passing through a night of clouds. Then the Christian host called upon Jesus and Mary and the defiled Cross, and fell upon the Vizier Dendan and the army of Syria. Now this was in pursuance of a stratagem devised by Dhat ed Dewahi; for, before his departure, King Afridoun had gone in to her and said, "It is thou hast brought this great stress on us; so do thou advise me how I shall do and what plan I shall follow." "O great King and mighty priest," replied she, "I will teach thee a shift, which would baffle Iblis himself, though he should call to his aid against it all his grisly hosts. It is that you send fifty thousand men in ships to the Mountain of Smoke and there let them land and stir not till the standards of Islam come upon you, when do you up and at them. Then let the troops from the seaward sally out upon the Muslims and take them in rear, whilst you confront them from the landward. So not one of them shall escape, and our stress shall cease and abiding peace enure to us." Her counsel commended itself to King Afridoun and he replied, "It is well; thy counsel shall be followed, O princess of cunning old women and recourse of kings warring for their blood-revenge!" So when the army of Islam came upon them in that valley, of a sudden the flames began to run among the tents and the swords to play upon men's bodies. Then came up the army of Baghdad and Khorassan, six score thousand horse, with Zoulmekan at their head. When the host of the infidels that lay by the sea saw them, they came out and followed in their steps, and Zoulmekan, seeing this, cried out to his men, saying, "Turn back to the infidels, O people of the Chosen Prophet, and fall upon those who deny and transgress the authority of the Compassionate, the Merciful!" So they turned and fought with the Christians, and Sherkan came up with another wing of the Muslim army, near six score thousand men, whilst the infidels numbered nigh upon sixteen hundred thousand. When the Muslims mingled in the mellay, their hearts were strengthened and they cried out, saying, "God hath promised to succour us and abandon the infidels!" And they clashed together with swords and spears. As for Sherkan, he made himself a passage through the ranks and raged among the masses of the foe, fighting so fierce a battle that it would have made children grow grey for fear; nor did he leave to tourney among the infidels and work havoc upon them with the keen-edged scimitar, shouting, "God is most great!" till he drove them back to the brink of the sea. Then the strength of the foe failed and God gave the victory to the faith of Submission,[FN#95] and they fought, drunken without wine, till they slew of the infidels forty and five thousand in that encounter, whilst of the Muslims but three thousand and five hundred fell. Moreover, the Lion of the Faith, King Sherkan, and his brother Zoulmekan slept not that night, but occupied themselves with looking to the wounded and heartening their men with assurance of victory and salvation and promise of a recompense in the world to come.

Meanwhile King Afridoun assembled the captains of his host and said to them, "Verily, we had accomplished our intent and had solaced our hearts, but for our over-confidence in our numbers: it was that which undid us." But Dhat ed Dewahi said to them, "Assuredly nought shall profit you, except ye seek the favour of the Messiah and put your trust in the True Faith; for by the virtue of the Messiah, the whole strength of the Muslims lies in that devil, King Sherkan!" "To-morrow," said Afridoun, "I will draw out in battle array and send out against them the famous cavalier, Luca ben Shemlout; for if King Sherkan come out to joust with him, he will slay him and the other champions of the Muslims, till not one is left; and I purpose this night to sacre you all by fumigation with the Holy Incense." When the amirs heard this, they kissed the earth before him. Now the incense in question was the excrement of the Chief Patriarch, which was sought for with such instance and so highly valued, that the high priests of the Greeks used to mix it with musk and ambergris and send it to all the countries of the Christians in silken sachets; and kings would pay a thousand dinars for every drachm of it, for they sought it to perfume brides withal and the chief of them were wont to use a little of it in ointment for the eyes and as a remedy in sickness and colic. But the priests used to mix their own excrement with it, for that the excrement of the Chief Patriarch could not suffice for half a score countries. So, as soon as the day broke and the morning appeared with its lights and shone, the horsemen ran to arms, and King Afridoun summoned the chief of his knights and nobles and invested them with dresses of honour. Then he made the sign of the cross on their foreheads and incensed them with the incense aforesaid; after which he called for Luca ben Shemlout, surnamed the Sword of the Messiah, and after incensing him and rubbing his palate with the holy excrement, daubed and smeared his cheeks and anointed his moustaches with the remainder. Now there was no stouter champion in the land of the Greeks than this accursed Luca, nor any doughtier at bowshot or smiting with swords or thrusting with spears in the mellay; but he was foul of favour, for his face was as the face of a jackass, his shape that of an ape and his look as the look of a malignant serpent, and the being near unto him was more grievous than parting from the beloved. Moreover, he was black as night and his breath was fetid as that of the lion; he was crooked as a bow and grim-visaged as the pard, and he was branded with the mark of the infidels. He kissed Afridoun's feet and the King said to him, "It is my wish that thou go out against Sherkan, King of Damascus, and hasten to deliver us from this affliction." Quoth Luca, "I hear and obey." And the King made the sign of the cross on his forehead and felt assured of speedy help from heaven, whilst Luca went out and mounted a sorrel horse. Now he was clad in a red tunic and a hauberk of gold set with jewels and bore a three-barbed spear, as he were Iblis the accursed on the day of marshalling his hosts to battle. Then he rode forward, he and his troop of infidels, as they were driving to the Fire, preceded by a herald, crying aloud in the Arabic tongue and saying, "Ho, followers of Mohammed, let none of you come out to-day but your champion Sherkan, the Sword of Islam, lord of Damascus of Syria!" Hardly had he made an end of speaking, when there arose a mighty tumult in the plain, all the people heard its voice, that called to mind the Day of Weeping. The cowards trembled and all necks turned towards the sound, and behold, it was King Sherkan. For, when Zoulmekan saw that accursed infidel spur out into the plain, he turned to Sherkan and said to him, "Of a surety they seek for thee." "Should it be so," replied Sherkan, "it were pleasing to me." So when they heard the herald, they knew Luca to be the champion of the Greeks. Now he was one of the greatest of villains, one who made hearts to ache, and had sworn to clear the land of the Muslims; and indeed the Medes and Turks and Kurds feared his mischief. So Sherkan drove at him like an angry lion, mounted on a courser like a wild gazelle, and coming nigh to him, shook his javelin in his hand, as it were a darting viper, and recited the following verses:

I have a sorrel horse, right swift and eath to guide, Shall give
     thee of its might what thou mayst ill abide.
Ay, and a limber spear I have, full keen of point, As 'twere the
     dam of deaths upon its shaft did ride;
And eke a trenchant sword of Ind, which when I draw, Thou'dst
     deem that levins flashed and darted far and wide,

Luca understood not what he said nor did he apprehend the vehemence of the verse; but he smote his forehead with his hand, in honour of the cross drawn thereon, and kissed it, then ran at Sherkan with lance pointed at him. When he came within spear-shot, he threw the javelin into the air, till it was lost to sight, and catching it with the other hand, as do the jugglers, hurled it at Sherkan. It sped from his hand, like a shooting star, and the people clamoured and feared for Sherkan: but as it drew near him, he put out his hand and caught it in full flight, to the amazement of the beholders. Then he shook it, till it was well-nigh broken, and hurled it up into the air, till it disappeared from sight. As it descended, he caught it again, in less than the twinkling of an eye, and cried out from the bottom of his heart, saying, "By the virtue of Him who created the seven heavens, I will make this accursed fellow the byword of the world!" Then he hurled the javelin at Luca ben Shemlout, who thought to do as Sherkan had done and catch it in mid-flight; but Sherkan made haste and sped another dart at him, which smote him on the forehead amiddleward the sign of the cross, and God hurried his soul to the Fire and the Ill Stead.[FN#96] When the infidels saw Luca fall dead, they buffeted their faces, crying, "Alas!" and "Woe worth the day!" and called for aid upon the priests of the monasteries, saying, "Where are the crosses?" So the monks offered up prayers and the Christians all drew together against Sherkan and brandishing their swords and lances, rushed forward to the attack. Army met army and men's breasts fell under the hoofs of the horses, whilst the sword and the spear ruled and arms and wrists grew weak and it was as if the horses had been made without legs; nor did the herald of war cease to call to battle, till all arms were weary and the day departed and the night came with the darkness. So the two hosts drew apart whilst every warrior staggered like a drunken man, for stress of war and much thrusting and smiting, and the ground was hidden with the slain; sore were the wounds and the hurt knew not by whom he died. Then Sherkan joined his brother and the Chamberlain and the Vizier Dendan and said to them, "Verily God hath opened a door for the destruction of the infidels, praised be the Lord of the Two Worlds!" "Let us never cease to praise God," replied Zoulmekan, "for that He hath dispelled trouble from the Arabs and the Persians. Indeed the folk, generation after generation, shall tell of thy prowess against the accursed Luca, the falsifier of the Evangel,[FN#97] of thy catching the javelin in mid-flight and smiting the enemy of God among men; and thy report shall endure until the end of time." Then said Sherkan, "Harkye, O grand Chamberlain and doughty captain!" "At thy service," answered he. Quoth Sherkan, "Take the Vizier Dendan and twenty thousand men and lead them, by a forced march, seven parasangs towards the sea, till ye come near the shore, at two parasangs' distance from the foe. Then hide in the hollows of the ground, till ye hear the tumult of the infidels disembarking from the ships; and when the swords have begun to play between us and them and ye see our troops falling back, as if defeated, and all the infidels following them, as well those in front as those from the sea-ward and the tents, do ye lie in wait for them: and as soon as ye see the standard with the words, 'There is no god but God, and Mohammed is His Apostle!' up with the green banner and fall on their rear, shouting, 'God is most great!' and do your endeavour, that they may not interpose between the retreating army and the sea." The Chamberlain agreed to this, and he and the Vizier Dendan took twenty thousand men and set out at once, even as Sherkan had commanded. As soon as it was morning the troops donned their armour and drawing their swords, set their spears in rest and sprang to horse. Then the Christians drew out in battle array upon the hills and plains and the priests cried out and all heads were uncovered. Moreover, those who were in the ships hoisted the cross at their mast-heads and making from all sides towards the shore, landed their horses and addressed them to the fray, whilst the swords glittered and the javelins glanced like levies against the cuirasses. So they all joined battle and the mill-wheels of death rushed round over footmen and horsemen: heads flew from bodies and tongues grew mute and eyes dim; gall-bladders burst and skulls were cloven in sunder and wrists shorn in twain; whilst the horses plashed in pools of blood and men gripped each other by the beards. The host of Islam called out, "Peace and blessing on the Prince of Mankind and glory and praise in the highest to the Compassionate One!" whilst the infidels shouted, "Glory to the Cross and the Girdle and the Vine-juice and the Presser and the Priests and the Monks and the Festival of Palms and the Metropolitan!" Presently, Zoulmekan and Sherkan held back and their troops gave way and feigned to retreat before the infidels, who pursued them, deeming them routed, and made ready to cut and thrust. Then the host of the Muslims began to chant the first verses of the Chapter of the Cow,[FN#98] whilst the slain were trampled under the hoofs of the horses and the heralds of the Greeks cried out, "Ho, servants of the Messiah! Ho, people of the True Faith! Ho, followers of the Pope! Verily the divine grace shines upon you, for see, the hosts of Islam incline to tree! So turn ye not your backs to them, but let your swords bite on their necks and hold not your hands from them, else are ye outcasts from the Messiah, son of Mary, who spoke even in the cradle!" Thereupon Afridoun thought that the infidels were victorious, knowing not that this was but a stratagem of the Muslims, and sent to King Herdoub, to give him the glad tidings of success, adding, "It was nought but the excrement of the Arch-Patriarch that availed us, in that the fragrance of it exhaled from the beards and moustaches of the servants of the Cross near and far; and I swear, by the Miracles of the Messiah and by the Waters of Baptism, that I will not leave upon the earth a single defender of Islam!"[FN#99] So the messenger betook himself to King Herdoub whilst the infidels called to each other saying, "Let us take our wreak for Luca!" and King Herdoub cried out, "Vengeance for Abrizeh!" With this, King Zoulmekan cried out to his men, saying, "Ho, servants of the Requiting King. up and smite the children of blasphemy and disobedience with the white of the sword and the brown of the spear!" So the Muslims turned upon the infidels and plied them with the keen-edged scimitar, whilst their herald cried aloud, "Up, ye lovers of the chosen prophet and at the enemies of the Faith! Now is the time for those, who hope for salvation on the Day of Fear, to win the favour of the Bountiful, the Forgiving One, for verily Paradise is under the shadow of swords!" So Sherkan and his men fell upon the infidels and cut off their retreat and tourneyed among the ranks, when lo, a cavalier of goodly presence opened a passage through the army of the Greeks and circled hither and thither amongst them, cutting and thrusting and covering the ground with heads and bodies, so that the infidels feared him and their necks bent under his blows. He was girt with two swords, that of his glances and a scimitar, and armed with two lances, one of cane and the other the straightness of his shape; over his shoulders flowed down his hair, whose beauty might have stood him in stead of many warriors, even as says the poet:

Flowing hair, as I deem, is not fair to the sight, Except it be
     spread, on the day of the fight,
O'er a youth with a spear that he giveth to drink Of the blood of
     full many a beard-bearing knight.

Or as says another:

I turned to him, what while he girt his faulchion on, and said,
     "Surely, the sabres of thy looks should stand thee in
     sword's stead."
Quoth he, "The sabres of my looks I keep for those who love, My
     sword for those who have no wit of passion's goodlihead."

When Sherkan. saw him, he said to him, "Ho, champion of the champions! I conjure thee, by the Koran and the attributes of the Compassionate One, tell me who thou art: for verily by thy deeds this day thou hast pleased the Requiting King, whom one thing distracts not from another, in that thou hast discomfited the children of impiety and disbelief." Quoth the horseman, "Thou art he who sworest brotherhood to me but yesterday: how quickly thou hast forgotten me!" Then he uncovered his face, so that what was hidden of his beauty was disclosed, and lo, it was none other than Zoulmekan! When Sherkan knew his brother, he rejoiced in him, except that he feared for him from the throng of adversaries and the onslaught of the champions; and this for two reasons, the first, his tender age and exposure to the evil eye, and the second, that his life was the mainstay of the empire. So he said to him, "O King, thou adventurest thy life, and indeed I am in fear for thee from the foe; so join thy horse to mine, and thou wouldst do well not to hazard thyself forth of these squadrons, that we may shoot at the enemy with thine unerring shaft." Quoth Zoulmekan, "I wish to equal thee in battle and I will not spare myself before thee in fight." Then the host of Islam rushed upon the infidels and encompassing them on all sides, waged a right holy war on them and broke the power of the children of impiety and pride and corruption. King Herdoub sighed when he saw the evil case that had fallen on the Greeks, and they turned their backs and addressed themselves to flight, making for the ships, when lo, there came out upon them from the sea shore a new army, led by the Vizier Dendan, him who was wont to make the champions bite the dust, and the Chamberlain of Syria, with twenty thousand doughty cavaliers, and fell upon their rear with sword and spear, whilst the army of Islam pressed them in front and flank. Then some of the Muslims turned against those that were in the ships and rained perditions on them, till they threw themselves into the sea, and they slew of them much people, more than a hundred thousand knights, nor did one of their champions escape, great or small. Moreover, they took their ships, with all the baggage and treasure therein, and the Muslims got that day booty, the like of which was never gotten of time past; nor did ever ear hear of such a battle. But twenty of the ships escaped, and amongst the booty were fifty thousand horses, besides treasure and spoil past count or reckoning, whereat the Muslims rejoiced with an exceeding joy and thanked God for the aid and protection He had vouchsafed them.

Meanwhile, the news reached Constantinople that King Afridoun had gotten the victory over the Muslims, and Dhat ed Dewahi said, "I know that my son King Herdoub is no runagate and that he has nought to fear from the hosts of Islam, but will bring the whole world to the Nazarene faith." Then she commanded the city to be decorated, and the people held high festival and drank wines, knowing not what God had decreed to them. Whilst they were in the midst of their rejoicings, behold, the raven of affliction croaked against them and up came the twenty ships of fugitives, amongst them the King of Caesarea. King Afridoun met them on the sea-shore, and they told him all that had befallen them, weeping sore and lamenting, whereupon rejoicing was turned into dismay, and King Afridoun was filled with consternation and knew that there was no repairing their mischance. The women gathered together to make moan and lament: and the city was filled with mourning; all hearts failed, whilst the hired mourners cried aloud and weeping and wailing arose on all sides. When King Herdoub met King Afridoun, he told him the truth of the case and how the flight of the Muslims was but a stratagem and said to him, "Look not to see any of the troops, save those that have already reached thee." When Afridoun heard this, he fell down in a swoon with his nose under his feet; and as soon as he revived he exclaimed, "Surely the Messiah was wroth with the army, that he delivered them thus into the hands of the Muslims!" Then came the Arch-Patriarch sadly to King Afridoun who said to him, "O our father, destruction hath overtaken our army and the Messiah hath punished us." "Grieve not nor be concerned," replied the Patriarch; "for it cannot be but that one of you has sinned against the Messiah, and all have been punished for his sin; but now we will read prayers for you in the churches, that the Mohammedan hosts may be repelled from you." After this, Dhat ed Dewahi came to Afridoun and said to him, "O King, verily the Muslims are many, and we shall never prevail against them, save by wile: wherefore I purpose to work upon them by stratagem and repair to the army of Islam; haply I may be able to carry out my intent against their leader and slay their champion, even as I slew his father. If I succeed, not one of them shall return to his native land, for all their strength lies in him; but I wish to have some Christians of Syria, such as go out from time to time to sell their goods, to help me in carrying out my plan." "Be it so, whenas thou wilt," replied the King. So she bade fetch a hundred men, natives of Nejran in Syria, and said to them, "Ye have heard what has befallen the Christians with the Muslims?" "Yes," replied they; and the King said, "This woman has devoted herself to the Messiah and purposes to go forth with you, disguised as Mohammedans, to work out a device, which shall profit us and hinder the Muslim host from us: so if ye also are willing to devote yourselves to Christ, I will give you a quintal of gold. Those of you who escape shall have the money, and those of you who are slain Christ will reward." "O King," replied they, "we devote ourselves to the Messiah, and we will be thy sacrifice." Then the old woman took drugs and simples and boiled them in water, till the black essence of them was extracted. She waited till it was cold, then dipped the end of a handkerchief therein and coloured her face therewith.. Moreover she put on, over her clothes, a long gaberdine with an embroidered border and taking in her hand a rosary, went in to King Afridoun, who knew her not nor did any of his companions know her, till she discovered herself to them, when they all praised her for her cunning and her son rejoiced and said, "May the Messiah never fail thee!" Then she took with her the Syrian Christians, and set out for the army of Baghdad. Now this accursed old woman was a witch of the witches, past mistress in sorcery and deception, knavish, crafty, debauched and perfidious, with foul breath, red eyelids, sallow cheeks, pale face, bleared eyes, mangy body, grizzled hair, humped back, withered complexion and running nostrils. She had studied the scriptures of Islam and made the pilgrimage to the Holy House of God,[FN#100] to come to the knowledge of the Mohammedan ordinances and the doctrines of the Koran; and she had professed Judaism in Jerusalem two years' space, that she might perfect herself in the magical arts of men and Jinn; so that she was a plague of plagues and a calamity of calamities, utterly depraved and having no religion. Now the chief reason of her sojourn with her son, King Herdoub, was on account of the maidens at his court: for she was given to tribadism and could not exist without it: so if any damsel pleased her, she was wont to teach her the art and rub saffron on her, till she fainted away for excess of pleasure. Whoso obeyed her, she used to favour and spake interest for her with her son; and whoso repelled her, she would contrive to destroy. This was known to Merjaneh and Rihaneh and Utriyeh, the handmaids of Abrizeh, and the princess loathed the old woman and abhorred to lie with her because of the ill smell from her armpits and the stench of her wind, more fetid than carrion, and the roughness of her body, coarser than palm fibre. She was wont to bribe those who served her desires with jewels and instruction; but Abrizeh held aloof from her and sought refuge with the All-Wise, the Omniscient; for well does the poet say:

O thou that abasest thyself to those that are rich and great And
     lordest it with disdain o'er those of low estate,
Thou that thinkest to gild thy baseness by gathering gold, The
     scenting of aught that's foul skills not its stench to
     abate!

To continue. As soon as Dhat ed Dewahi had departed, her son went in to Afridoun and said to him, "O King, we have no need of the Chief Patriarch nor of his prayers, but will act according to my mother's counsel and await what she will do of her craft without end with the Muslim host, for they are on the march hither with all their strength and will quickly be with us." When King Afridoun heard this, terror took hold upon his heart and he wrote letters forthright to all the countries of the Christians, saying, "It behoves none of the followers of the Messiah or soldiers of the Cross to hold back, especially the folk of the citadels and strong places: but let them all come to us foot and horse and women and children, for the Muslim hosts already tread our soil. So hasten, hasten, ere what we fear come to pass."

Now Dhat ed Dewahi had clad her companions in the habit of Muslim merchants and had provided herself with a hundred mules laden with stuffs of Antioch, such as gold woven satin and royal brocade and so forth, and with a letter from King Afridoun to the following effect: "These are merchants from the land of Syria, who have been with us: so it behoves none to do them let or hindrance nor take tithe of them, till they reach their own country and the place of their security, for by merchants a country flourishes and grows rich, and these are no men of war nor evil-doers." So, as soon as she came without the city, she said to them, "O folk, I wish to work out a plot for the destruction of the Muslims." "O princess," replied they, "command us what thou wilt; we are at thy disposal, and may the Messiah prosper thy dealing!" Then she donned a gown of fine white wool and rubbing her forehead, till she made a great mark (as of a scar), anointed it with an ointment of her own fashion, so that it shone greatly. Now she was lean-bodied and hollow-eyed, and she bound her legs tightly round with cords just above her feet, till she drew near the Muslim camp, when she unwound them, leaving the marks of the cords deeply embedded in the flesh. Then she anointed the weals with dragon's blood and bade her companions beat her severely and lay her in a chest. "How can we beat thee," replied they, "who art our sovereign lady and mother of the supreme King?" Quoth she, "We blame not nor reproach him who goeth to the jakes, and in time of necessity, forbidden things become lawful. When ye have laid me in the chest, set it on the back of one of the mules and pass on with it and the other goods through the Muslim camp, crying aloud the profession of the Faith of Unity.[FN#101] If any hinder you, give up the mules and their lading and betake yourself to their king Zoulmekan and cast yourselves on his protection, saying, 'We were in the country of the infidels and they took nothing from us, but wrote us a passport, that none should hinder us: so why do ye seize upon our goods? See, here is the letter of the King of the Greeks, commanding that none shall do us let or hindrance.' If he say to you, 'What profit had ye of your commerce in the land of the Greeks?' answer him, 'We profited in that it was given us to accomplish the deliverance of a pious man, who had lain nigh fifteen years in a dungeon under the earth, crying out for help, yet none helped him. On the contrary, the infidels tortured him night and day. We knew not of this: but after we had sojourned awhile in Constantinople, having sold our goods and bought others in their stead, we made ready to set out and return to our native land. We spent the night before our departure, conversing about our journey, and when the day broke, we saw a figure painted upon the wall; and behold, as we drew nigh it, it moved and said, "O Muslims, is there amongst you one who is minded to gain the favour of the Lord of the two worlds?" "How so?" asked we. "Know," replied the figure, "that God hath made me speak to you, to the intent that your belief may be fortified and that your faith may inspire you and that you may go forth of the country of the infidels and repair to the camp of the Muslims. where ye shall find the Sword of the Compassionate One, the Champion of the Age, King Sherkan, him by whom He shall conquer Constantinople and destroy the followers of the Christian heresy. On the third day of your journey, you will come to [a town, in which stands] a hermitage known as the hermitage of Metronhena. Make for it with a pure intent and do your utmost endeavour to come into the hermitage, for therein is a true believer from Jerusalem, by name Abdallah, one of the holiest of men, whom God hath blessed with supernatural powers, such as dispel doubts and obscurity. Him certain of the monks seized by fraud and shut in an underground dungeon, where he has lain many a year. So, if ye desire to gain the favour of the Lord of the Faithful, ye cannot accomplish a more acceptable work than the deliverance of this holy man." When we heard what the figure said, we knew that this holy man was indeed of the chiefest of the devotees and heart-whole servants of God; so we set out and after three days' journey, came in sight of the town, and making for it, passed the day in buying and selling, as is the wont of merchants. As soon as the day had departed and the night was come with the darkness, we repaired to the hermitage, wherein was the dungeon, and presently heard the holy man chant some verses of the Koran and repeat the following lines:

I strive with my heart, for anguish that's well-nigh cleft in
     twain, And there ebbs and flows in my bosom a flooding sea
     of pain.
Indeed, there is no deliverance, and death is near at hand; Yet
     death than long affliction were kinder and more fain.
O lightning, if thou visit my native land and folk, If for the
     fair ones' lustre thine own red brilliance wane
Carry my salutation to those I love and say, I lie in a far Greek
     dungeon and cry for help in vain.
How can I win to join them, since that the ways with wars Are
     blocked and the gate of succour is barred with many a
     chain?'

When once ye have brought me into the Muslim camp," added the old woman, "I know how I will make shift to beguile them and slay them all, even to the last man." When the Christians heard what she said, they kissed her hands and laid her in a chest, after they had beaten her grievously, in obedience to her commands, seeing it to be incumbent on them to do her bidding in this, then made for the Muslim camp.

Meanwhile, the Muslims sat down to converse with each other, after they had made an end of the battle and the pillage, and Zoulmekan said to his brother, "Verily, God hath given us the victory, because of our just dealing and concord amongst ourselves; wherefore, O Sherkan, do thou continue to obey my commandment, in submission to God (to whom belong might and majesty), for I mean to slay ten kings and fifty thousand of the Greeks, in revenge for my father, and enter Constantinople." "My life be thy ransom against death!" replied Sherkan. "Needs must I follow forth the Holy War, though I tarry many a year in the infidels' country. But, O my brother, I have in Damascus a daughter called Kuzia Fekan, who is one of the marvels of the time, and I love her heartily." "And I also," said Zoulmekan, "have left my wife with child and near her time, nor do I know what God will vouchsafe me by her. But, O my brother, promise me that, if she bring me a son, thou wilt grant me thy daughter for my son and pledge me thy faith thereon." "With all my heart," replied Sherkan and put out his hand to his brother, saying, "If thou be blessed with a son, I will give him my daughter Kuzia Fekan to wife." At this Zoulmekan rejoiced, and they fell to giving each other joy of the victory, whilst the Vizier Dendan also congratulated them and said to them "Know, O Kings, that God hath given us the victory, for that we have devoted ourselves to Him (to whom belong might and majesty) and have left our homes and families: and it is my counsel that we follow up the foe and press upon them and harass them; it may be God shall bring us to our desire and we shall destroy our enemies. If it please you, do ye embark in the ships and sail upon the sea, whilst we fare forward by land and bear the brunt of the battle." And he ceased not to urge them to action, repeating the following verses:

The goodliest of delights it is one's foes to slay And on the
     backs of steeds the spoil to bear away.
Oft comes a messenger with promise of a friend, And the friend
     comes himself without a trysting-day.

And these also:

As I live, I will make of war my mother and the spear My brother
     and the sword my father, and for fere
I will take each shag-haired warrior that meets death with a
     smile, As if to die in battle were e'en his wish most dear!

"Glory be to God," continued he, "Who hath vouchsafed us His almighty aid and hath given us spoil of silver and fine gold!" Then Zoulmekan commanded to depart; and the army set out and fared on, by forced marches, toward Constantinople, till they came to a wide and blooming champaign, full of all things fair, with wild cattle frisking and gazelles passing to and fro. Now they had traversed great deserts and had been six days cut off from water, when they drew near this meadow and saw therein waters welling and trees laden with ripe fruits and the land as it were Paradise; it had donned its adornments and decked itself.[FN#102] The branches of its trees swayed gently to and fro, drunken with the new wine of the dew, and therein were conjoined the fresh sweetness of the fountains of Paradise and the soft breathings of the zephyr. Mind and eye were confounded with its beauty, even as says the poet:

Look on the verdant smiling mead, with flowers and herbs beseen,
     As 'twere the Spring thereon had spread a mantle all of
     green.
If thou behold it with the eye of sense alone, thou'lt see Nought
     but as 'twere a lake wherein the water waves, I ween:
But with thy mind's eye look; thou'lt see a glory in the trees
     And lo' amidst the boughs above, the waving banners' sheen!

Or as another says:

The river's a cheek that the sun has rosy made; For ringlets it
     borrows the cassia's creeping shade.
The water makes anklets of silver about the legs Of the boughs,
     and the flowers for crowns o'er all are laid.

When Zoulmekan saw this champaign, with its thick-leaved trees and its blooming flowers and warbling birds, he turned to his brother Sherkan and said to him, "O my brother, verily Damascus hath not in it the like of this place. We will abide here three days, that we may rest ourselves and that the troops may regain strength and their souls be fortified to encounter the accursed infidels." So they halted and pitched their camp there. Presently, they heard a noise of voices afar, and Zoulmekan enquiring the cause thereof, was told that a caravan of Syrian merchants had halted there to rest and that the Muslim troops had come on them and had haply seized some of their goods, that they had brought from the country of the infidels. After awhile, up came the merchants, crying out and appealing to the King for redress. So Zoulmekan bade bring them before him, and they said to him, "O King, we have been in the country of the infidels and they spoiled us of nothing: why then do our brothers the Muslims despoil us of our goods, and that in their own country? When we saw your troops, we went up to them, thinking no evil, and they robbed us of what we had with us." Then they brought out to him the letter of the King of Constantinople, and Sherkan took it and reading it, said to them, "We will restore you what has been taken from you; but it behoved you not to carry merchandise to the country of the infidels." "O our lord," replied they, "of a truth, God moved us to go thither, that we might win what never champion won the like of, no, not even thou in ail thy battles." "What was it that ye won?" asked Sherkan. "O King," replied they, "we will not tell thee, except in private; for if this thing be noised among the folk, it may come to the ears of the King of Constantinople, and this will be the cause of our ruin and of the ruin of all Muslims that resort to the land of the Greeks." (Now they had hidden the chest wherein was Dhat ed Dewahi.) So Zoulmekan and his brother brought them to a private place, where they repeated to him the story of the devotee, even as the old woman had lessoned them, and wept till they made the two kings weep. There withal Sherkan's heart yearned to the devotee and he was moved to pity for him and zeal for the service of God the Most High. So he said to the Syrians, "Did ye rescue the holy man or is he still in the hermitage?" Quoth they, "We delivered him and slew the hermit, fearing for ourselves; after which we made haste to fly, for fear of death; but a trusty man told us that in this hermitage are quintals of gold and silver and jewels." Then they fetched the chest and brought out the accursed old woman, as she were a cassia[FN#103] pod, for excess of blackness and leanness, and laden with fetters and shackles. When Zoulmekan and the bystanders saw her, they took her for a man of the dower of God's servants and the most excellent of devotees, more by token of the shining of her forehead for the ointment with which she had anointed it. So Zoulmekan and Sherkan wept sore and kissed her hands and feet, sobbing aloud: but she signed to them and said, "Give over weeping and hear my words." So they left weeping, in obedience to her, and she said, "Know that I was content to accept what my Lord did unto me, knowing that the affliction that befell me was a trial from Him (to whom belong might and majesty); since that for him who is not patient under trial and affliction there is no coming to the delights of Paradise. I had indeed besought Him that I might return to my native land, yet not for impatience of the sufferings decreed to me, but that I might die under the hoofs of the horses of the warriors of the Faith, who, being slain in battle, live again without suffering death,"[FN#104]; and she repeated the following couplets:

The fortress[FN#105] is Sinai's self and the fire of war burns
     free, And thou art Moses and this the time appointed to
     thee.
Throw down thy rod, for lo, it shall swallow up all they make!
     And fear not; I trow the ropes of the folk no serpents
     be.[FN#106]
Read thou the lines of the foe for chapters,[FN#107] the day of
     the fight, And let thy sword mark on their necks the verses,
     what while they flee.

Then her eyes ran over with tears and her forehead shone like gleaming light, and Sherkan rose and kissed her hand and caused food to be set before her: but she refused it, saying, "I have not broken my fast (till sunset) for fifteen years; and how should I do so now, whenas my Lord hath been bountiful to me in delivering me from the captivity of the infidels and doing away from me that which was more grievous than the fiery torment? I will wait till sun down." So at nightfall Sherkan and Zoulmekan came to her with food and said, "Eat, O pious man." But she said, "This is no time for eating; it is the hour for doing my service to the Requiting King." Then she took up her station in the prayer-niche and stood praying till the night was spent; and she ceased not to do thus for three days and nights, sitting not but at the time of salutation.[FN#108] When Zoulmekan saw this her behaviour, belief in her took firm hold upon his heart and he said to Sherkan, "Cause a tent of perfumed leather to be pitched for this holy man and appoint a servant to wait upon him." On the fourth day, she called for food; so they brought her all kinds of meats that could allure the sense or delight the eye; but of all this she ate but one cake of bread with salt. Then she turned again to her fast, and when the night came, she rose anew to pray: and Sherkan said to Zoulmekan, "Verily, this man carries renunciation of the world to the utmost extreme, and were it not for this holy war, I would join myself to him and worship God in his service, till I came before His presence. And now I would fain enter his tent and talk with him awhile." "And I also," said Zoulmekan. "To-morrow we sally forth against Constantinople, and we shall find no time like the present." "And I also," said the Vizier Dendan, "desire to see this holy man; haply he will pray for me that I may find my death in this holy war and come to the presence of my Lord, for I am weary of the world." So as soon as night had darkened on them, they repaired to the tent of the witch Dhat et Dewahi and finding her standing praying, fell a-weeping, for pity of her: but she paid no heed to them till the night was half spent, when she ended her devotions by pronouncing the salutation (to the guardian angels). Then she turned to them and greeted them, saying, "Wherefore come ye?" "O holy man," said they, "didst thou not hear us weeping round thee?" "To him who stands before God," replied she, "there remains nor sight nor hearing for the things of this world." Quoth they, "We would have thee tell us the manner of thy captivity and offer up prayer for us this night, for that will profit us more than the possession of Constantinople." "By Allah," answered she, "were ye not the leaders of the Muslims, I would not tell you aught of this; for I complain not but to God alone. However, to you I will relate the circumstance of my captivity. Know, then, that I was in Jerusalem with certain saints and ecstatics, and did not magnify myself among them, for that God had endowed me with humility and abnegation, till one night I chanced to go down to the lake and walked upon the water. There withal there entered into me pride, whence I know not, and I said to myself, 'Who can walk upon the water, like unto me?' And from that time my heart became hardened and God afflicted me with the love of travel. So I journeyed to the land of the Greeks and visited it in every part during a whole year, leaving no place but I worshipped God therein. When I came to the place (where the Syrians found me) I ascended the mountain and saw there a hermitage, inhabited by a monk called Metrouhena. When he saw me, he came out to me and kissed my hands and feet, saying, 'Verily, I have seen thee, since thou camest into the land of the Greeks, and thou hast filled me with longing for the land of Islam.' Then he took my hand and carrying me into the hermitage, brought me to a dark place, where he took me unawares and locking the door on me, left me there forty days, without meat or drink; for it was his intent to kill me by starvation. One day it chanced that a knight called Decianus came to the hermitage, accompanied by ten squires and his daughter Temathil, a girl of incomparable beauty. The monk told them of me, and Decianus said, 'Bring him out, for surely there is not a bird's meal of flesh left on him.' So they opened the door of the dungeon and found me standing erect in the niche, praying and reciting the Koran and glorifying God and humbling myself to Him. When they saw this, the monk exclaimed, 'This man is indeed a sorcerer of the sorcerers!' Then they all came in on me, and Decianus and his company beat me grievously, till I desired death and reproached myself, saying, 'This is the reward of him who glorifies himself and takes credit for that which God hath bestowed upon him, beyond his own competence! For, indeed, my soul, pride and arrogance have crept into thee. Dost thou not know that pride angers the Lord and hardens the heart and brings men to the fire?' Then they laid me in fetters and returned me to my place, which was a dungeon under the earth. Every three days, they threw me down a cake of barley-bread and a draught of water; and every month or two, came Decianus to the hermitage, with his daughter Temathil, who is now grown up, for when I first saw her, she was nine years old, and I abode fifteen years in the dungeon, so that she must be now four-and twenty years of age. There is not in our land nor in the land of the Greeks a fairer than she, and her father feared lest the King (of Constantinople) should take her from him; for she had vowed herself to the service of the Messiah and rode with Decianus in the habit of a cavalier, so that none who saw her knew her for a woman. In this hermitage her father had laid up his treasures, for all who had aught of price were wont to deposit it there, and I saw there all manner of gold and silver and jewels and precious vessels and rarities, none may keep count of them save God the Most High. Ye are more worthy of these riches than the infidels; so do ye lay hands on that which is in the hermitage and divide it among the Muslims, and especially among those who wage the holy war. When these merchants came to Constantinople and sold their merchandise, the image on the wall spoke to them, by God's special grace to me; so they made for the hermitage and tortured Metrouhena, after the most grievous fashion, and dragged him by the beard, till he showed them where I was, when they took me and fled for fear of death. To-morrow, Temathil will visit the hermitage as of wont, and her father and his squires will come after her, to protect her: so, an ye would be witness of these things, take me with you and I will deliver to you the treasure and the riches of the knight Decianus, that are stored up in that mountain; for I saw them bring out vessels of gold and silver to drink in and heard a damsel of their company sing to them in Arabic. Alas, that so sweet a voice should not be busied in reciting the Koran! So, an ye will, I will bring you to the hermitage and ye shall hide there, against the coming of Decianus and his daughter. Then take her, for she is only fit for the king of the age, Sherkan, or for King Zoulmekan." When they heard her words, they all rejoiced, with the exception of the Vizier Dendan, who put no faith in her story, for her words took no hold on his reason and he was confounded at her discourse and signs of doubt and disbelief appeared in his face; but he feared to speak with her, for awe of the King. Then she said, "I fear lest Decianus come and seeing the troops encamped here, be afraid to enter the hermitage." So Zoulmekan resolved to despatch the army towards Constantinople and said, "I mean to take a hundred horse and many mules and make for the mountain, where we will load the mules with the treasure." Then he sent for the Chamberlain and for the captains of the Turks and Medes and said to them, 'As soon as it is day, do ye strike camp and set out for Constantinople. Thou, O Chamberlain, shall fill my place in council and command, and thou, O Rustem, shalt be my brother's deputy in battle. Let none know that we are not with you, and after three days we will rejoin you." Then he chose out a hundred of the stoutest cavaliers, and he and Sherkan and Dendan set out for the hermitage, with mules and chests for the transport of the treasure. As soon as it was morning, the Chamberlain gave the signal for departure, and the troops set out, thinking that the two Kings and the Vizier were with them. Now the Syrians that were with Dhat ed Dewahi had taken their departure privily, after they had gone in to her and kissed her hands and feet and gotten her leave and taken her orders. Then she waited till it was dark night and going in to Zoulmekan and his companions, said to them, "Come, let us set out for the mountain, and take with you a few men." They obeyed her and left five horsemen at the foot of the mountain, whilst the rest rode on before Dhat ed Dewahi, to whom new strength seemed given for excess of joy, so that Zoulmekan said to his companions, "Glory be to God who sustains this holy man, whose like we never saw!" Now she had written a letter to the King of Constantinople and despatched it by a carrier-pigeon, acquainting him with what had passed and adding, "Do thou send me ten thousand horsemen of the stoutest of the Greeks and let them come stealthily along the foot of the mountains, lest the Muslim host get sight of them, to the hermitage and hide themselves there, till I come to them with the Muslim King and his brother, for I have inveigled them and will bring them thither, together with the Vizier Dendan and a hundred horse, no more, that I may deliver to them the crosses that are in the hermitage. I am resolved to slay the monk Metrouhena, since my scheme cannot be carried out but at the cost of his life. If my plot work well, not one of the Muslims shall return to his own country, no, not a living soul nor a blower of the fire; and Metrouhena shall be a sacrifice for the followers of the Christian faith and the servants of the Cross, and praise be to the Messiah, first and last!" When this letter reached Constantinople, the keeper of the pigeons carried it to King Afridoun, who read it and forthwith equipped ten thousand cavaliers with horses and dromedaries and mules and victual and bade them repair to the hermitage and hide there; and they did as he commanded them. Meanwhile. when Zoulmekan and his companions reached the hermitage, they entered and met the monk Metrouhena, who came out to see who they were; whereupon quoth Dhat ed Dewahi, "Slay this accursed fellow.' So they fell on him with their swords and made him drink the cup of death. Then the accursed old woman carried them to the place of offerings[FN#109] and brought out to them treasures and precious things, more than she had promised them, which they laid in chests and loaded the mules therewith. As for Temathil and her father, they came not, for fear of the Muslims, and Zoulmekan tarried there, awaiting her, the whole of that day and two more, till Sherkan said to him, "By Allah, I am troubled at heart for the army of Islam, for I know not what is come of them." "And I also am concerned for them," replied Zoulmekan. "We have come by a great treasure and I do not believe that Temathil or any one else will come to the hermitage, after that which has befallen the host of the Christians. So we should do well to content ourselves with what God has given us and depart; and haply He will help us break open Constantinople." So they came down from the mountain, for Dhat ed Dewahi dared not gainsay them, for fear of betraying herself, and rode on till they reached the head of a defile, in which the old woman had laid an ambush for them with the ten thousand horse. As soon as the latter saw them, they made at them from all sides, couching their lances and baring their sabres, whilst they shouted the watchword of their infidel faith and set the arrows of their mischief to the strings.

When Zoulmekan saw them, he was ware that they were a mighty host and said, "Who can have given these troops advice of us?" "O my brother," replied Sherkan, "this is no time for talking, but for smiting with swords and shooting with arrows; so gird up your courage and strengthen your hearts, for this pass is like a street with two gates: though, by the virtue of the Lord of the Arabs and the Persians, were not the place so strait, I would bring them to nought, though they were a hundred thousand men!"

"Had we known this," said Zoulmekan, "we would have brought with us five thousand horse." "If we had ten thousand," rejoined the Vizier, "they would avail ail us nothing in this narrow place: but God will succour us against them. I know this defile and its straitness, and there are many places of refuge in it; for I have been here on an expedition with King Omar ben Ennuman, what while we laid siege to Constantinople. We camped in this place, and there is here water colder than snow. So come, let us win? out of this pass ere the infidels increase on us and get the start of us to the mountain-top, that they may hurl down rocks upon us and we be powerless to come at them." So they hurried on, to get out of the defile: but Dhat ed Dewahi looked at them and said, "What is it ye fear, ye who have vowed yourselves to God the Most High, to work His will? By Allah, I was imprisoned underground for fifteen years, yet never gainsaid I God in aught He did with me! Fight ye in the way of God; whoso of ye is killed, Paradise shall be his abode, and whoso kills, his endeavour shall be for his glory." When they heard her words, their concern and anxiety ceased from them and they stood firm, awaiting the onset of the infidels, who fell on them from all sides, whilst the swords played upon their necks and the cup of death went round amongst them.

The Muslims fought right valiantly for the service of God and wrought upon His enemies with stroke of sword and push of pike; whilst Zoulmekan smote upon the men and made the champions bite the dust and their heads fly from their bodies, five by five and ten by ten, till he had done to death a number of them past count. Presently, he looked at the old woman and saw her waving her sword and heartening them, and all who feared fled to her for shelter; but (in secret) she was beckoning to the infidels to kill Sherkan. So troop after troop rushed on him to slay him: but each troop he charged and drove back, with the sword in their loins; and indeed he thought it was the holy man's blessing that gave him the victory over them and said in himself, "Verily God looks on this holy man with eyes of favour and strengthens my prowess against the infidels with the purity of his intent: for I see that they fear me and cannot stand against me, but every one who attacks me turns tail and flees." So they battled the rest of the day, and when the night fell, the Muslims took refuge in a cave, being hard pressed and weary with stress of battle; and five-and-forty of them were slain that day by rocks that the infidels rolled down on them. When they were gathered together, they sought the devotee, but could find no trace of him. This was grievous to them and they said, "Belike, he hath died a martyr." Quoth Sherkan "I saw him heartening the men with divine instances and sacring them with verses of the Koran." Whilst they were talking, behold, the accursed old woman stood before them, with the head of the captain of the ten thousand horse, a noble knight, a fierce champion and an obstinate devil, in her hand. Now one of the Turks had slain him with an arrow, and God hurried his soul to the fire: and when the infidels saw what the Muslim had done with their leader, they all fell on him and hewed him in pieces with their swords, and God hastened with his soul to Paradise. Then the old woman cut off the knight's head and carrying it to Sherkan and Zoulmekan and the Vizier, threw it at their feet; whereupon Sherkan exclaimed, "Praised be God that we see thee in safety, O holy man and devout champion of the Faith!" "O my son," replied she, "I have sought a martyr's death this day, throwing myself midmost the host of the infidels, but they feared me. When ye separated, a holy jealousy seized me for you; so I rushed on the knight their captain, though he was reckoned a match for a thousand horse, and smote him and severed his head from his body. Not one of the infidels could come near me, so I took his head and have brought it to you, that you may be heartened in the holy strife and work out the will of the Lord of the Faithful with your swords. And now I will leave you to strive against the infidels, whilst I go to your army, though they be at the gates of Constantinople, and return with twenty thousand horse to destroy these unbelievers." Quoth Sherkan, "How wilt thou win to them, O holy man, seeing that the valley is blocked up by the infidels on all sides?" "God will veil me from their eyes," replied she, "and they shall not see me; nor if any saw me, would he dare to attack me, for I shall be absorbed in God and He will fend off His enemies from me." "Thou sayst sooth, O holy man," rejoined Sherkan, "for indeed I have been witness of this; so, if thou canst set out at the first of the night, it will be the better for us." "I will set out forthright," replied she; "and, an thou wilt, thou shalt go with me, and none shall see thee. If thy brother also have a mind to go, we will take him, but none else; for the shadow of a saint can cover but two." "As for me," said Sherkan, "I will not leave my comrades; but, if my brother please, he will do well to go with thee and win free of this strait; for he is the stronghold of the Muslims and the sword of the Lord of the two worlds; and if it be his pleasure, let him take with him the Vizier Dendan, or whom else he may choose, and send us ten thousand horse to succour us against these villains." So they agreed to this and Dhat ed Dewahi said, "Wait till I go on before you and look if the infidels be asleep or awake." Quoth they, "We will go with thee and trust our affair to God." "If I do your bidding," replied she, "do not blame me, but blame yourselves; for it is my counsel that you wait till I have spied you out the state of the case." Then said Sherkan, "Go and return quickly, for we shall be awaiting thee." So she went out and Sherkan turned to his brother and said, "Were not this holy man a miracle-worker, he had never slain yonder doughty knight. This is a sufficient measure of his power, and indeed the strength of the infidels is broken by the slaying of their leader, for he was a fierce warrior and a stubborn devil." Whilst they were thus devising of the power of the devotee, behold, the cursed old woman returned and promised them victory over the unbelievers; whereupon they thanked her, and she said, "Where is the king of the age Zoulmekan?" "Here am I," replied he. "Take thy Vizier," said she, "and follow me, that we may win out to Constantinople." Now she had acquainted the infidels with the cheat she had put on the Muslims, and they rejoiced mightily and said, "We shall not be content till we have slain their king in return for the death of our general; for we had no stouter cavalier than he; but when thou bringest him to us, we will carry him to King Afridoun." Then she went out with Zoulmekan and Dendan and walked on before them, saying, "Fare on with the blessing of the Most High God!" They did as she bade them, for the arrow of fate and destiny had fallen on them, and she led them on, through the midst of the Christian camp, till they came to the narrow pass aforesaid. Whilst the enemy watched them, but did them no hindrance; for the old woman had enjoined this on them. When Zoulmekan and Dendan saw that the infidels did them no hindrance, the Vizier exclaimed, "By Allah, this is one of the holy man's miracles! Without doubt he is of the elect." "By Allah," said Zoulmekan, "I think the infidels must be blind, for we see them, and they see us not." Whilst they were thus praising the holy man and recounting his virtues, behold, the infidels fell upon them from all sides and seized them, saying, "Is there any one else with you, that we may seize upon him?" Quoth Dendan, "See ye not yon other man that is before us?" "By the Messiah and the Monks and the Primate and the Metropolitan," replied they, "we see none but you!" And Zoulmekan said, "By Allah, this is a chastisement decreed to us by God!" Then the Christians laid shackles on their feet and set men to guard them during the night, whilst Dhat ed Dewahi fared on and disappeared from their sight. So they fell to lamenting and said, "Verily, the gainsaying of pious men leads to greater stress than this, and we are punished by the strait into which we have fallen."

Meanwhile, Sherkan passed the night in the cavern with his companions, and when the day broke, he arose and prayed the morning-prayer. Then he and his men made ready to do battle with the infidels, and he encouraged them and promised them all good. Then they sallied out against the Christians, who cried out to them from afar as soon as they saw them, saying, "O Muslims, we have taken your Sultan and your Vizier that has the ordering of your affairs; and except ye leave fighting us, we will slay you to the last man, but if ye yield to us, we will take you to our king, who will make peace with you, on condition that you leave our country and return to your own land and do us no harm, and we will do you no harm. If you accept, it will be well for you; but if you refuse, you have nothing to hope for but death. So now we have told you, and this is our last word to you." When Sherkan heard this and was certified of the captivity of his brother and the Vizier Dendan, he was greatly troubled and wept; his strength failed him and he made sure of death, saying inwardly, "I wonder what was the cause of their capture? Did they fail of respect to the holy man or disobey him, or what?" Then they rushed upon the unbelievers and slew great plenty of them. The valiant, that day, was known from the faint-hearted, and the swords and spears were dyed with blood; for the infidels flocked on them from all sides, as flies flock to wine; but Sherkan and his men ceased not to wage the fight of those who fear not death nor let it hinder them from the pursuit of victory, till the valley ran with blood and the earth was full of the slain. So fought they on till nightfall, when the two parties separated, each to his own place, and the Muslims returned to the grotto, where both victory and loss were manifest to them, and there was no dependence for them but on God and the sword. That day there had been slain of them five-and-thirty men of the chief amirs, and they had put to the sword thousands of the infidels, both horse and foot. When Sherkan saw this, the case was grievous to him, and he said to his comrades, "What shall we do?" "That which God wills," replied they. On the morning of the second day, Sherkan said to the remnant of his troop, "If ye go forth to fight, not one of you will remain alive and we have but little food and water left; so meseems ye would do better to draw your swords and stand at the door of the cavern, to hinder any from entering. Peradventure the holy man may have traversed the Christian host, without being seen of the unbelievers, and may win to Constantinople and return with ten thousand horse, to succour us against the infidels." "This is the better course," replied they, "and there is no doubt of its expediency." So they went out and held the opening of the grotto, standing in its sides; and every one of the infidels who sought to come in, they slew. Thus did they fend off the enemy from the door of the cavern and make head against all their assaults, till the day departed and the night came with the shadows, by which time King Sherkan had but five-and-twenty men left. Then said the Christians to each other, "When shall these battles have an end? We are weary of fighting the Muslims." And one of them said, "Up and let us fall on them, for there be but five-and-twenty and of them left. If we cannot prevail on them to fight, let us light a fire upon them; and if they submit and yield themselves up, we will take them prisoners: else we will leave them to serve as fuel to the fire, so that they shall become a warning to men of understanding. May the Messiah not have mercy on their fathers and may the sojourn of the Christians be no abiding-place for them!" So they repaired to the cavern and heaping up faggots in the door-way, set fire to them. Thereupon, Sherkan and his companions made sure of death and yielded themselves up. The unbelievers thought to kill them, but the knight their captain said to those who counselled this, "It is for none but King Afridoun to kill them, that he may quench thereby his thirst for vengeance; wherefore it behoves us to keep them prisoners till the morrow, when we will journey with them to Constantinople and deliver them to King Afridoun, who shall deal with them as he pleases." "This is the right course," replied they; and he commanded to pinion the prisoners and set guards over them. Then, as soon as it was dark, the infidels gave themselves up to feasting and merry-making and called for wine and drank, till they all fell backward. Presently, Sherkan turned to his brother Zoulmekan and said to him "My brother, how shall we get free?" "By Allah," replied Zoulmekan, "I know not; for we are here like birds in a cage." At this Sherkan was angry and sighed for excess of wrath and stretched himself, till his bonds broke; whereupon he went up to the captain of the guard and taking from his bosom the keys of the fetters, freed Zoulmekan and Dendan and the rest of the prisoners. Then said he, "Let us slay three of these infidels and don their clothes, we three; so shall we be disguised as Greeks and pass through them without their knowing us, and win out to our army." "This is no safe counsel," replied Zoulmekan "for if we kill them, I fear some of their comrades may hear their groans and the enemy he roused upon us and kill us. It were better to make our way out of the pass." So they agreed upon this and set out. When they had left the head of the defile a little way behind, they saw horses picketed and their riders sleeping by them: and Sherkan said to his brother, "Let us each take one of these steeds." So they took five-and-twenty horses, one for each man, and mounted and rode on till they were out of reach, whilst God sent sleep upon the infidels for a secret purpose of His own. Meanwhile, Sherkan gathered as many swords and spears as he could from the sleepers and faring on after his comrades, found them awaiting him, on coals of fire on his account, and said to them, "Have no fear, since God protects us. I have that to propose, which meseems will advantage us." "What is it?" asked they, and he said, "It is that we all climb to the mountain-top and cry out with one voice, 'God is most great! The army of Islam is upon you! God is most great!' If we do this, their company will surely be dissolved, for they are too drunken to find out the trick, but will think that the Muslim troops have encompassed them on all sides and have become mingled with them; so they will fall on one another with their swords, in the confusion of drunkenness and sleep, and we will cleave them asunder with their own brands and the sword will go round amongst them till the morning." "This plan is not good," replied Zoulmekan. "We should do better to make our way to our army and keep silence; for, if we cry out, 'God is most great!' they will wake and fall on us, and not one of us will escape." "By Allah," rejoined Sherkan, "though they be roused on us, I desire urgently that ye fall in with my plan, for nothing but good can come of it." So they agreed and ascending the mountain, shouted out, "God is most great!" And the hills and trees and stones cried out with them, "God is most great!" for the fear of the Almighty. When the unbelievers heard this, they started up from sleep and did on their armour, crying out to one another and saying, "By the Messiah, the enemy is upon us." Then they fell on each other and slew of their own men more than any knows save God the Most High. As soon as it was day, they sought for the captives, but found them not, and their captains said, "It was the prisoners who did this; so up and hasten after them, till ye overtake them, when we will make them quaff the cup of punishment; and let not trouble nor panic possess you." So they sprang to horse and rode after the fugitives, nor was it long before they overtook them and surrounded them. Wheu Zoulmekan saw this, he was seized with terror and said to his brother, "What I feared is come upon us, and now it only remains for us to fight for the faith." But Sherkan held his peace. Then Zoulmekan and his companions rushed down from the hill-top, crying out, "God is most great!" and addressed themselves to fight and sell their lives in the service of the Lord of the Faithful, when, behold, they heard many voices crying out, "There is no god but God! God is most great! Peace and salvation upon the Bringer of Glad Tidings, the Admonisher of Mankind!"[FN#110] So they turned towards the sound and saw a company of Muslims pricking towards them, whereupon their courage revived and Sherkan ran at the Christians, crying out, "There is no god but God! God is most great!" so that the earth shook as with an earthquake and the unbelievers broke asunder and fled into the mountains, whither the Muslims followed them with sword and spear and made their heads fly from their bodies, till the day departed and the night came with the darkness. Then the Muslims drew together and passed the night rejoicing; and when the day broke and the morning arose with its light and shone, they saw Behram, the captain of the Medes, and Rustem, the captain of the Turks, advancing to join them, with twenty thousand cavaliers, as they were fierce lions. As soon as they saw Zoulmekan, the chiefs dismounted and saluting him, kissed the earth before him; and he said to them, "Rejoice ye in the glad news of the victory of the Muslims and the discomfiture of the unbelievers!" Then they gave each other joy of their deliverance and of the greatness of the reward that awaited them in the world to come.

Now the manner of the coming of the succours was as follows. When Behram and Rustem and the Chamberlain came in sight of Constantinople, with the Muslim army, they saw that the Christians had manned the walls and towers and set all their strengths in order of defence, for that they knew of the approach of the host of Islam, through the craft and perfidy of the old woman Dhat ed Dewahi. So, when they heard the clash of arms and tramp of horse-hoofs and saw the Mohammedan standards and the ensigns of the Faith of the Unity of God emerging from the dust-clouds and heard the voices of the Muslims chanting the Koran aloud and glorifying the Compassionate One, and the army of Islam drew near, as it were the swollen sea, for the multitude of footmen and horsemen and women and children, they poured forth like a flight of locusts or the streaming of water from the rain-clouds; and the captain of the Turks said to the captain of the Medes, "O Amir, of a truth, we are in jeopardy from the multitude of the foe on the walls. Look at yonder forts and at the folk like the tempestuous sea with its clashing billows. Indeed the infidels out-number us a hundred times and we cannot be sure but that some spy may inform them that we are without a leader. Verily, we are in peril from these enemies, whose number may not be told and whose extent is limitless, especially in the absence of King Zoulmekan and his brother Sherkan and the illustrious Vizier Dendan. If they know of this, they will be emboldened to attack us in their absence and will cut off us to the last man; not one of us will escape alive. So it is my counsel that we each take ten thousand horse and repair to the hermitage of Metrouhena and the Meadow of Meloukhna in quest of our brothers and our chiefs. If thou follow my counsel, it may be we shall be the cause of their deliverance, in case they be hard pressed by the infidels; and if not, no blame will rest on me. But, if we go, it were well that we return quickly, for suspicion is part of prudence." The other fell in with his counsel; so they chose twenty thousand horse and set out for the hermitage by cross roads.

To return to Dhat ed Dewahi. As soon as she had delivered Zoulmekan and his companions into the hands of the infidels, she mounted a swift horse, saying to the Christians, "I mean to rejoin the Muslim army before Constantinople and contrive for their destruction; for I will tell them that their chiefs are dead, and when they hear this, their alliance will be dissolved and their confederation broken up and their host dispersed. Then will I go to King Afridoun and my son King Herdoub, and they will sally forth on them with their troops and destroy them, nor leave one of them alive." So she mounted and fared on across country all that night, and at daybreak, she sighted the army of Behram and Rustem advancing towards her. So she turned aside into a wayside copse and alighting there, hid her horse among the trees, saying to herself, "Belike they are returning, routed, from the assault of Constantinople." However, as she drew near, she saw that their standards were not reversed and knew that they were not retreating because of defeat, but that they feared for their king and their chiefs. When she was assured of this, she hastened up to them, running at the top of her speed, like a stubborn Satan as she was, and cried out, "Hasten, O soldiers of the Merciful One, hasten to the holy war against the hosts of Satan!" When Behram saw her, he dismounted and kissing the earth before her, said, "What is behind thee, O friend of God?"[FN#111] "Do not ask of evil case and sore disasters," answered she. "Know that, when our comrades had taken the treasure from the hermitage and were on their way back to Constantinople, there came out on them a great host and a fierce of unbelievers." And she repeated to them the story, in such wise as to fill them with trouble and terror, and added, "The most of them are dead, and there are but five-and-twenty left." "O holy man," said Behram, "when didst thou leave them?" "But last night," replied she. "Glory be to God," exclaimed he, "Who hath rolled up the distance for thee like a carpet, so that thou hast sped thus, walking upon thy feet and leant upon a palm-tree staff! But thou art one of the friends of God, that fly like birds, when possessed by the stress of His commandment!" Then he mounted his horse, perplexed and confounded for that which he had heard from the lying old beldam and saying, "There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High! Verily our labour is lost and our hearts are heavy within us, for our king is a prisoner and those who are with him!" Then they fared on in haste and stayed not the whole of that day and night, till at daybreak they reached the head of the pass and heard Zoulmekan and Sherkan shouting, "There is no god but God! God is most great!" Whereupon they drove at the unbelievers and overwhelmed them, as the torrent overwhelms the plains, shouting out their war-cries, till the stoutest champions were affrighted and the mountains were cloven by the noise. On the morrow, they foregathered with Zoulmekan, and each recognised the other as has been before set out. Then they kissed the earth before the King and his brother Sherkan, and the latter told them all that had befallen him and his men in the grotto, whereat they marvelled and said, "Hasten back with us to Constantinople, for we left our companions there, and our hearts are with them." So they made haste to depart, commending themselves to the Subtle, the All-wise; and Zoulmekan exhorted the Muslims to steadfastness, reciting the following verses:

To thee be the praise, O Thou that meritest thanks and praise!
     And mayest Thou never cease to succour me all my days!
I grew up in exile, but Thou, my God, wast ever my friend. 'Twas
     Thou didst decree me success and broughtest me forth of the
     maze.
Thou hast given me lordship and wealth and fortune and girded my
     midst With the falchion of valour and wreathed my forehead
     with victory's bays.
Thou hast shadowed me under Thy wings and made me to prosper
     amain And hast graced me with favours untold, of Thy
     bounties abounding always:
Thou hast saved me from all that I feared, by the counsel of him
     whom I trust, The Vizier and chief of the chiefs, the hero
     and pride of our days.
By Thy favour we fell on the Greeks and smote them with sword and
     with spear; But again to the fight they returned, in
     garments blood-red for affrays.
So I feigned to be routed and flee and give back from the fight;
     then I turned On the toe, as the fierce lion turns on the
     hunters, that find him at gaze.
I left them laid low on the plain, as 'twere they were drunken
     with wine, Not the wine that is pressed from the grape, but
     that of death's cup of amaze;
Whilst their ships all fell under our hand and ours was the
     empery grown: From the East to the West, sea and shore, we
     were lords of the lands and the ways.
Then there came to our camp the recluse, the saint, whose
     miraculous power Is blazoned in desert and town, wherever
     the sun sheds its rays.
He joined us, his vengeance to wreak on all that believe not in
     God. Indeed, it is known to the folk what came of our strife
     and our frays.
They slew of us some, but they woke on the morrow in Paradise,
     Each lodged in a palace on high, whereunder a river strays.

When Zoulmekan had made an end of reciting these verses, his brother Sherkan gave him joy of his safety and praise for that he had done; after which they set out by forced marches to rejoin their army.

Meanwhile, Dhat ed Dewahi, after she had spoken with Rustem and Behram, returned to the coppice, where she took her horse and mounting, sped on, till she drew near the host of the Muslims that lay leaguer before Constantinople, when she lighted down from her steed and led it to the Chamberlain's pavilion. When he saw her, he signed to her with his hand and said, "Welcome, O pious recluse!" Then he questioned her of what had befallen, and she repeated to him her disquieting and deluding report, saying, "Indeed I fear for the Amirs Rustem and Behram, for that I met them on the way and sent them and their following to the King and his companions. They are but twenty thousand horse, and the unbelievers are more in number than they; so I would now have thee send of the rest of thy troops in haste to their succour, lest they be slain to the last man." And she said to them "Hasten! Hasten!" When the Chamberlain and the Muslims heard these her words, their hearts sank within them and they wept; but she said to them, "Ask aid of God and be patient under this affliction, taking example by those that have been before you of the people of Islam, for God hath prepared Paradise, with its palaces, for those who die martyrs; and needs must all die, but death is most praiseworthy, when it comes in fighting for the Faith." When the Chamberlain heard this speech of the accursed old woman, he called for the Amir Behram's brother, a cavalier named Terkash, and choosing out for him ten thousand intrepid veterans, bade him set out at once. So he departed forthright and marched all that day and the next night, till he neared the Muslims. When the day dawned, Sherkan saw the dust of them and feared for his companions, saying, "If these troops that are nearing us be Muslims, our victory is assured; but if they be Christians, there is no gainsaying the decrees of Fate." Then he turned to his brother Zoulmekan and said to him, "Fear not, for I will ransom thee with my life from destruction. If these be Muslim troops then were it an increase of God's favours; but if they be our foes, there is nothing for it but to fight them. Yet do I long to see the holy man once again before I die, so he may pray for me that I may not die except a martyr." Whilst he was thus speaking, behold, there appeared the banners with the words, "There is no god but God and Mohammed is His Apostle" inscribed on them, and he cried out to the new-comers, saying, "How is it with the Muslims?" "They are in weal and safety," replied they; "and we come not hither but out of concern for you." Then the chief of the succours dismounted and kissing the earth before Sherkan, said, "O my lord, the Sultan and the Vizier Dendan and Rustem and my brother Behram, are they all in safety?" "They are all well," answered the prince; "but who brought thee tidings of us?" "It was the holy man," said Terkash. "He told us that he had met my brother Behram and Rustem and had sent them to you and also that the infidels had encompassed you and were more in number than you; yet meseems the case is the contrary of this and that you are victorious." "And how did the holy man reach you?" asked Sherkan. "Walking on his feet," replied the Amir; "and he had compassed, in the space of a single day and night, ten days' journey for a diligent horseman." "Verily, he is a friend of God," said Sherkan; "but where is he now?" Quoth Terkash, "We left him with our troops, the people of Faith, encouraging them to do battle with the infidels and rebels." Therewith Sherkan was glad and thanked God for their own deliverance and that of the holy man and commended the dead to the mercy of God saying, "This was written in the Book of Fate." Then they set out for Constantinople by forced marches, and whilst they were on the road thither, behold, a cloud of dust arose before them and spread till the prospect was hidden and the day darkened by it. Sherkan looked at it and said, "Verily, I fear lest this be the infidels who have routed the army of Islam, for that this dust covers the country and blots out the two horizons." Presently there appeared midmost the dust a pillar of darkness and came towards them, blacker than the blackness of (evil) fortune and more dreadful than the terrors of the Day of Judgment.

Horse and foot hastened up to look at it and know its meaning, when, behold, they saw it to be the recluse aforesaid; so they crowded round him to kiss his hands, and he cried out, "O people of the best of men[FN#112], the lamp of the darkness, the infidels have overcome the Muslims by craft, for they fell upon them in their tents, whilst they deemed themselves in safety, and made a sore slaughter of them; so hasten to the aid of the believers in the unity of God and deliver them from those that deny Him!" When Sherkan heard this, his heart was sore troubled and he alighted from his horse, in amazement, and kissed the recluse's hands and feet. In like wise did his brother Zoulmekan and the rest of the troops, except the Vizier Dendan, who dismounted not, but said, "By Allah, my heart revolts from this devotee, for I never knew aught but evil come of these that make a show of devotion to religion. Leave him and hasten to rejoin your comrades for this fellow is of those that are outcast from the gate of mercy of the Lord of the Two Worlds! How often have I come out to war with King Omar ben Ennuman and trodden the earth of these lands!" "Put away from thee this foul thought," said Sherkan. "Hast thou not seen this holy man excite the faithful to battle, recking nought of spears and swords? Wherefore, slander him not, for slander is blameworthy and the flesh of pious folk is poisoned. Look how he encourages us to battle, and did not God love him, He had not rolled up the distance for him (like a carpet), after He had aforetime cast him into grievous torment?" Then Sherkan let bring a Nubian mule for her riding and said to her, "Mount, pious man, God-fearing and holy!" But she refused, feigning self-denial, that she might attain her end: and they knew not that the pretended devotee was such an one as he of whom the poet says:

He prayeth and fasteth amain for an end that he hath in view.
     When once he has gained his end, fasting and prayer, adieu!

So she walked among the horsemen and the footmen, like a crafty fox meditating an assault, and began to uplift her voice, chanting the Koran aloud and celebrating the praises of the Compassionate One. Then they pressed forward till they reached the Mohammedan camp, where Sherkan found the Muslims in a state of confusion and the Chamberlain upon the brink of retreat, whilst the sword wrought havoc among the faithful, good and bad. Now the cause of this weakness among the Muslims was that the accursed old woman Dhat ed Dewahi, when she saw that Behram and Rustem had set forward with their troops to join Sherkan and Zoulmekan, repaired to the camp or the Muslims before Constantinople and wrought upon the Chamberlain to despatch the Amir Terkash, as hath been before set out, to the further succour of the princes, purposing in this to divide the Muslim forces and weaken them. Then she left them and going to the walls of Constantinople, called with a loud voice on the knights of the Greeks, saying, "Throw me down a cord that I may tie thereto this letter, which do ye carry to King Afridoun and my son King Herdoub, that they may read it and do as is written therein." So they let down a string and she tied thereto a letter, to the following purport, "From the chiefest of calamities and the greatest of afflictions, Dhat ed Dewahi, to King Afridoun. Know that I have contrived a device for the destruction of the Muslims, so rest you quiet. I made their Sultan and the Vizier Dendan prisoners and returned to their camp and acquainted them therewith, whereupon their power was broken and their strength weakened. Moreover, I have wrought on them to send ten thousand men under the Amir Terkash to the succour of the captives, and there be now but few men left with the besiegers. Wherefore, it is my counsel that ye sally forth, with all your power, whilst it is yet day, and fall on them in their tents and slay them to the last man for the Messiah looks down upon you and the Virgin favours you; and I hope that the Messiah will not forget this that I have done." When this letter came to King Afridoun, he rejoiced greatly and sending at once for King Herdoub, read the letter to him, whereat he was exceeding glad and said, "See the craft of my mother; verily it dispenses with swords, and her aspect stands in stead of the terrors of the Day of Fear." "May the Messiah not bereave us of her," rejoined Afridoun, "nor deprive her of her craft and knavery[FN#113]." Then he gave orders for the sally, and the news was noised abroad in the city. So the Christian troops and soldiers of the Cross drew their keen sabres and sallied forth of the city, shouting out their impious war-cries and blaspheming the Lord of all creatures. When the Chamberlain saw them, he said, "Behold, the Christians are upon us, whilst the most part of our troops are gone to the succour of King Zoulmekan! They surely know of the absence of our Sultan and most like they will attack us." Therewith he waxed angry and cried out, "Ho, soldiers of Islam and defenders of the True Faith, if you flee, you are lost, and if you stand fast, you will conquer! Know that courage lies in endurance and that no case is so desperate but that God is able to bring about its relief. May He bless you and look upon you with eyes of compassion! "Then the Muslims cried out, "God is most great!" and the believers in the Divine Unity shouted the profession of the Faith and the two hosts joined battle. The mill-wheels of war whirled round, with cutting and thrusting; the swords and spears played and the plains and valleys were filled with blood. The priests and monks prayed aloud, girding on their girdles and uplifting the crosses, whilst the Muslims shouted out the praises of the Requiting King and chanted verses of the Koran. The hosts of the Compassionate God fought against the legions of Satan and heads flew from bodies, what while the good angels hovered above the people of the Chosen Prophet, nor did the sword cease to play, till the day departed and the night came with the shadows. Now the unbelievers had encompassed the Muslims and made sure of overcoming the host of the True Faith with the dawn, deeming not that they could escape destruction. As soon as it was light, the Chamberlain mounted, he and his men, trusting that God would help them, and the two armies came together and joined battle. The fight raged all along the line and heads flew from bodies, whilst the brave stood fast and the faint-hearted turned their backs and fled; and the Judge of death judged and gave sentence, so that the champions fell from their saddles and the meadows were heaped with the slain. Then the Muslims began to give back and the Greeks took possession of some of their tents; whereupon the Muslims were about to break and retreat, when behold, up came Sherkan, with the rest of their troops and the standards of the believers in the Unity of God, and fell upon the infidels, followed by Zoulmekan and the Vizier Dendan and the Amirs Behram and Rustem and Terkash. When the Christians saw this, they lost their senses and their reason fled, and the dust clouds rose till they covered the country, whilst the true believers joined their pious comrades. Then Sherkan accosted the Chamberlain and praised him for his steadfastness, and he in turn gave him joy of his timely succour. Therewith the Muslims rejoiced and their hearts were fortified; so they rushed upon the foe and devoted themselves to God, in the battle for the Faith. When the infidels saw the Mohammedan standards and read thereon the words proclaiming the Unity of God, they shrieked aloud and said, "Woe!" and "Ruin!" and besought succour of the priests and monks. Moreover they fell to calling upon Jesus and Mary and the abhorrent Cross and stayed their hands from the battle, whilst King Afridoun went up to King Herdoub (to consult with him), for the two kings stood one at the head of each wing. Now there was with them also a famous cavalier named Lawiya, who was in command of the centre, and the infidels drew out in battle-array; but indeed they were full of alarm and disquiet. Meanwhile, the Muslims arrayed their forces and Sherkan came to his brother Zoulmekan and said to him, "O king of the age, doubtless they mean to joust? and that is also what we desire; but it is my wish to set in our van-ward battle the stoutest-hearted of our men: for wise ordering is the half of life." "As thou wilt, O man of good counsel," replied the Sultan. "It is my wish," added Sherkan, "to be myself in the centre of the line, with the Vizier Dendan on my left and thee on my right, whilst Behram and Rustem command the right and left wing; and thou, O mighty King, shalt be under the standards and the ensigns, for that thou art our stay and upon thee, after God, is our dependence, and we will all be thy ransom from aught that can harm thee." Zoulmekan thanked him and the battle-cries arose and the sabres were drawn, when, behold, there came forth a cavalier from the Grecian ranks; and as he drew near, they saw that he was mounted on a slow-paced mule, fleeing with her master from the shock of swords. Her housings were of white silk, surmounted by a carpet of Cashmere stuff, and on her back sat a gray-bearded old man of comely and reverend aspect, clad in a gown of white wool. He spurred her on till he came to the Muslims, to whom said he, "I am an ambassador to you, and all an ambassador has to do is to deliver his message; so give me a safe conduct and the right of speech, that I may do my errand to you." "Thou art in safety," replied Sherkan; "fear neither stroke of sword nor thrust of lance." Thereupon the old man dismounted and taking the cross from his neck, (laid it) before the Sultan and carried himself humbly to him, after the fashion of one who hopes for fair treatment. Then said the Muslims to him, "What is thy news?" He answered, "I am an ambassador from King Afridoun, whom I counselled to avert the destruction of all these manly bodies and images of the Compassionate; and it seemed good to him to stop the shedding of blood and limit the strife to the encounter of two horsemen in battle; so he agreed to this and says to you, 'Verily, I will ransom my troops with my life; so let the Muslim king do likewise and ransom his army with his life. If he kill me, there will be no stability left in the army of the Greeks, and if I kill him, it will be the like with the Muslims.'" When Sherkan heard this, he said, "O monk, we agree to this, for it is just; and behold I will joust: with him, for I am champion of the Muslims, even as he of the Christians; and if he slay me, he will have gained the victory and there will remain for the Muslim army nothing but flight. So return to him, O monk, and tell him that the combat shall be for to-morrow, seeing that to-day we are weary with our journey; but after rest there shall be neither reproach nor blame." So the monk returned, rejoicing, to King Afridoun and King Herdoub and told them what Sherkan had said, whereat Afridoun was exceeding glad and lightened of anxiety and trouble and said in himself, "No doubt but this Sherkan is the hardest hitter of them with the sword and the dourest at push of pike; and when I have slain him, their hearts will fail them and their strength will be broken." Now Dhat ed Dewahi had written to King Afridoun of this and told him that Sherkan was a cavalier of cavaliers and a champion of champions and had warned him against him; but Afridoun was a stalwart cavalier, who fought in many a fashion; he could hurl stones and javelins and smite with the iron mace and feared not the doughtiest of prowess in the dint of war. So when he heard from the monk that Sherkan agreed to joust, he well-nigh lost his reason for stress of joy, for that he had confidence in himself and deemed that none could stand against him. Then the infidels passed the night in joy and merry-making and wine-drinking, and as soon as it was day, the two armies drew out in battle array, with their brown spears and white swords. Presently, they saw a cavalier prick out into the plain, mounted on a stout and swift charger equipped for war: he was of great stature and was clad in a cuirass of steel made for stress of battle. On his breast he wore a jewelled mirror and in his hand he bore a keen scimitar and a lance of khelenj wood[FN#114] of curious Frankish workmanship. He uncovered his face and cried out, saying, "Whoso knoweth me hath enough of me, and whoso knoweth me not shall see who I am. I am Afridoun he who is overborne by the blessing of Shewahi Dhat ed Dewahi." Before he had made an end of speaking, Sherkan, the champion of the Muslims, spurred out to meet him, mounted on a sorrel horse worth a thousand [dinars] of red gold, with housings embroidered in pearls and jewels, and girt with a sword of watered Indian steel, that shore through necks and made hard ventures easy. He drove his charger between the two armies, whilst the horsemen all gazed on him, and cried out to Afridoun, saying, "Out on thee, O accursed one, dost thou think me as one of the horsemen thou hast met, that cannot stand against thee in the mellay?" Then they rushed upon one another and came together like two mountains crashing or two seas breaking each against each. So they advanced and retreated and drew together and parted and ceased not to joust and battle with stroke of sword and thrust of spear, whilst the two armies looked on. Some said, "Afridoun will conquer," and other some, "Sherkan;" and they stayed not their hands from the battle, till the clamour of the bystanders subsided and the dust-clouds rose and the day waned and the sun began to grow pale. Then King Afridoun cried out to Sherkan, saying, "By the virtue of the Messiah and the True Faith, thou art a doughty horseman and a stalwart fighting man, but thou art guileful and thy nature is not that of the freeborn and meseemeth thy fashion is other than praiseworthy nor is thy fighting that of a prince; for see, thy people even thee with slaves[FN#115] and bring thee out a charger other than thine, that thou mayst (mount him and) return to the battle. But by the virtue of the Messiah, thy fighting fatigues me and I am weary of cutting and thrusting with thee; and if thou wert purposed to do battle with me tonight thou wouldst not change aught of thy harness nor thy horse till thou hadst shown the cavaliers thy valour and skill in fight." When Sherkan heard him say that his own folk evened him with slaves, he was angry and turned towards his men, meaning to sign to them and bid them not prepare him change of armour or horse, when, behold, Afridoun shook his javelin in the air and hurled it at Sherkan. Now, when the latter turned, he found none behind him and knew that this was a trick of the accursed infidel; so he wheeled round in haste and seeing the javelin coming at him, swerved from it, till his head was level with the pommel of his saddle. The javelin grazed his breast and pierced the skin, for Sherkan was high-bosomed: so he gave one cry and swooned away. Then the accursed Afridoun was glad, thinking that he had slain him, and called to the Christians to rejoice, whereat the infidels were encouraged and the true believers wept. When Zoulmekan saw his brother reeling from side to side in his saddle, so that he had well-nigh fallen, he sent cavaliers to his succour; whereupon the infidels drove at the Muslims and the two hosts joined battle, whilst the keen Yemen blades played among them. The first to reach Sherkan were Dendan and Rustem and Behram, who found him on the point of falling off his horse; so they stayed him in his saddle and carried him to Zoulmekan; then giving him in charge to his servants, returned to the battle. Then the strife redoubled and the weapons clashed, and there was nought to be heard but the roar of the battle nor to be seen but blood flowing and necks bending beneath the blows; nor did the swords cease to play on men's necks nor the strife to rage more and more, till the most part of the night was past and the two hosts were weary of battle. So they called a truce and each army returned to its tents, whilst all the infidels repaired to King Afridoun and kissed the earth before him, and the priests and monks wished him joy of his victory over Sherkan. Then he went up into Constantinople and sat down upon his throne; and King Herdoub came to him and said, "May the Messiah strengthen thine arm and cease never to be thy helper and hearken to the prayers of my pious mother on thy behalf! Know that the Muslims can make no stand, now they have lost Sherkan." "To-morrow," replied Afridoun, "shall end the war, for I will seek out Zoulmekan and slay him, and their army shall turn tail and take to flight."

Meanwhile, Zoulmekan returned to his tent thinking of nothing but his brother, and going in to the latter's pavilion, found him in evil plight; whereat he was sore troubled and sent for the Vizier Dendan and the Amirs Behram and Rustem, that he might take counsel with them. When they entered, they were all of accord to summon the physicians to treat Sherkan, and they wept and said, "The age will not lightly afford his like!" They watched by him all that night, and towards morning there came to them the pretended recluse, weeping. When Zoulmekan saw her, he rose to receive her; and she stroked Sherkan's wound with her hand, chanting somewhat of the Koran and repeating some of the signs of the Compassionate One. Then she kept watch over him till the day, when he came to himself and opening his eyes, moved his tongue in his mouth and spoke. At this Zoulmekan rejoiced, saying, "Verily the blessing of the holy man hath taken effect on him!" And Sherkan said, "Praised be God for recovery; indeed, I am well now. Yonder accursed one played me false, and but that I swerved aside quicklier than lightning, the javelin had pierced me through and through. So praised be God for my safety! How is it with the Muslims?" "They weep for thee," answered Zoulmekan. Quoth Sherkan, "I am well and in good case; but where is the holy man?" Now she was sitting by him and said, "At thy head." So he turned to her and kissed her hand; and she said, "O my son, it behoves thee to arm thyself with patience, and God shall make great thy reward; for the guerdon is measured by that which has been endured." Quoth Sherkan, "Pray for me," and she did so. As soon as it was morning and the day arose and shone, the Muslims sallied out into the field, and the Christians made ready to cut and thrust. Then the host of the Muslims advanced and offered battle; and Zoulmekan and Afridoun made ready to tilt at one another. But when Zoulmekan sallied out into the field, there came with him Dendan and Behram and the Chamberlain, saying, "We will be thy sacrifice." "By the Holy House and the Well Zemzem and the Stead of Abraham,"[FN#116] exclaimed he, "I will not be hindered from going forth against these barbarians!" So he rode out into the field and played with sword and spear, till both armies wondered; then he rushed upon the right wing of the Greek army and slew two knights and in like manner dealt he with the left wing. Then he stayed his steed in the midst of the field and cried out, "Where is Afridoun, that I may make him drink the cup of humiliation?" But King Herdoub conjured Afridoun not to budge from the field, saying, "O King, it was thy turn yesterday: to-day it is mine. I reck not of his prowess." So he pricked out towards Zoulmekan, with a sabre in his hand and under him a jet black horse, swift as he were Abjer, he that was Antar's horse, even as says the poet:

He vies with the glance of the eye on a swift-footed steed, That
     fares as it had a mind to outstrip Fate.
The hue of his hide is the blackest of all things black, Like
     night, when the shadows shroud it in sable state.
The sound of his neighing troubles the hearts of men, As it were
     thunder that echoes in heaven's gate.
If he run a race with the wind, he leads the way, Nor can the
     lightning outstrip him, early or late.

Then each rushed upon the other, guarding himself from his blows and showing the rare qualities that were in him and the wonders of his prowess; and they fell to advancing and retreating and ceased not to flee and return to the attack and wheel hither and thither, till the breasts of the bystanders were straitened (for anxiety) and they were weary of waiting for the event. At last, Zoulmekan cried out and rushing upon Herdoub, King of Caesarea, dealt him such a blow that he shore his head from his body and made an end of him. When the infidels saw this, they all rushed at Zoulmekan, who met them in mid-field, and they fell to cutting and thrusting, till the blood ran in streams. Then the Muslims cried out, "God is most great;" and "There is no god but God;" and invoked blessings on the Giver of Good Tidings, the Admonisher of Mankind,[FN#117] and there befell a great battle. But God sent help to the faithful and confusion to the infidels. The Vizier Dendan shouted, "Avenge King Omar ben Ennuman and his son Sherkan!" and baring his head, cried out to the Turks. Now there were beside him more than twenty thousand horse, who all charged with him as one man, and the unbelievers found nothing for it but flight. So they turned their backs to flee, whilst the keen sabres wrought havoc amongst them and the Muslims slew of them that day more than fifty thousand cavaliers and took more than that: and much people also were slain at the going in of the gates by reason of the greatness of the crowd, whilst the Christians mounted the walls, fearing an assault. Then the Muslims returned to their tents, fortified and victorious, and King Zoulmekan went in to his brother, whom he found in the most joyous case. So he returned thanks to the Bountiful, the Exalted One and gave Sherkan joy of his deliverance. "Verily," answered he, "we are all under the benediction of this holy and God-fearing man, nor would you have been victorious, but for his effectual prayers; for all day he hath never ceased to invoke victory on the Muslims. I found strength return to me, when I heard you cry, 'God is most great!' for then I knew you had gotten the better of your enemies. But now tell me, O my brother, what befell thee." So he told him all that had passed, how he had slain the accursed Herdoub and he had gone to the malediction of God; and Sherkan praised his prowess. When Dhat ed Dewahi heard tell of her son's death, the blood fled from her face and her eyes ran over with streaming tears; however, she kept her counsel and feigned to the Muslims that she was glad and wept for excess of joy: but she said in herself, "By the virtue of the Messiah, there remains no profit of my life, if I make not his heart bleed for his brother Sherkan, even as he has made mine bleed for King Herdoub, the mainstay of the Christian faith and the hosts of the Cross!"

The Vizier Dendan and Zoulmekan and the Chamberlain abode with Sherkan, till they had dressed his wound and anointed it; after which they gave him medicines and he began to recover his strength; whereat they were exceeding glad and told the troops, who rejoiced greatly, saying, "To-morrow he will ride with us and take part in the siege." Then said Sherkan to them, "You have fought all day and are weary, and it behoves that you return to your tents and sleep and not watch." So they went away all to their tents and there remained none with Sherkan but Dhat ed Dewahi and a few servants. He talked with her awhile, then lay down to rest, he and his servants, and soon sleep overcame them all and they were as dead men. But the old woman abode awake and looking at Sherkan, saw that he was drowned in sleep. So she sprang to her feet, as she were a bald she-bear or a speckled snake, and drew from her girdle a poisoned knife, that would have melted a rock if laid thereon; then going up to Sherkan, she drew the knife across his throat and cut off his head. After this, she went up to the sleeping servants and cut off their heads also, lest they should awake. Then she left the tent and made for the Sultan's pavilion, but finding the guards awake, turned to that of the Vizier. He was reading the Koran and seeing her, said, "Welcome, O holy man!" When she heard this, her heart trembled and she said, "The reason of my coming hither at this time is that I heard the voice of a friend of God and am going to him." Then she went away, but the Vizier said to himself, "By Allah, I will follow the holy man to-night!" So he rose and went after her: but the accursed old woman heard his footsteps and knew that he was following her: wherefore she feared discovery and said in herself, "Except I put him off with some trick, he will discover me." So she turned and said to him from afar, "Harkye, Vizier, I am going after this saint, that I may know who he is; and after I will ask his leave for thee to join him. Then I will come back and tell thee; for I fear to let thee accompany me, without his leave, lest he take umbrage at seeing thee with me." When the Vizier heard this, he was abashed and knew not what to answer; so he left her and returning to his tent, would have slept; but sleep was not favourable to him and the world was straitened upon him. So he rose and went out, saying in himself, "I will go talk with Sherkan till the morning." But when he came to Sherkan's tent, he found the blood running like a rivulet and saw the servants lying dead. At this he gave a cry that aroused all who were asleep, and they hastened to him and seeing the blood streaming, set up a clamour of weeping and lamentation. The noise awoke the Sultan, who enquired what was the matter, and they said to him, "Sherkan and his servants are murdered." So he rose in haste and entering the tent, saw his brother's headless trunk and the Vizier by it shrieking aloud. At this sight, he swooned away and all the troops stood round him, weeping and crying aloud, till he came to himself, when he looked at Sherkan and wept sore, whilst all who were present did the like. Then said Zoulmekan, "Know ye who did this, and how is it I see not the recluse, him who hath put away the things of the world?" Quoth the Vizier, "And who should have been the cause of this our affliction, save that devotee of Satan? By Allah, my heart shrank from him from the first, because I know that all who profess to be absorbed in the things of the faith are corrupt and treacherous!" And he told the King how he would have followed the devotee, but he forbade him; whereupon the folk broke out into weeping and lamentation and besought Him who is ever near at hand, Him who answereth prayer, to cause the false recluse, who denied His evidences, to fall into their hands. Then they laid Sherkan out and buried him in the mountain aforesaid, mourning over his renowned virtues, after which they looked for the opening of the city-gate; but it opened not and none appeared to them on the walls; whereat they wondered exceedingly, and King Zoulmekan said, "By Allah, I will not turn back from them, though I tarry here years and years, till I take my wreak of my brother Sherkan and lay Constantinople in ruins and slay the King of the Nazarenes, even if death overcome me and I be at rest from this sorry world!" Then he brought out the treasure he had taken from the hermitage of Metrouhena and mustering the troops, divided it amongst them, nor was there one of them but he gave him what contented him. Moreover, he called together three hundred horse of every division and said to them, "Do ye send succours to your family, for I am resolved to camp here, till I have taken my revenge for my brother Sherkan, even if I die in this place." Then he summoned couriers and gave them letters and charged them to do the soldiers' errands to their families and let them know that they were safe and in good heart, but that they were encamped before Constantinople, resolved either to destroy it or perish, and that, though they should abide there months and years, they would not depart thence till they had taken the city. Moreover, he bade Dendan write to his sister Nuzhet ez Zeman, acquainting her with what had befallen them and with their situation and commending his child to her care, since that, when he went out to war, his wife was near her delivery and must needs by that time have been brought to bed; and if she had given birth to a son, he charged the messengers to hasten their return and bring him the news. Then he gave them money and they set out at once, and all the people came out to take leave of them and entrust them with the money and the messages they wished to send to their families. After they had departed, Zoulmekan turned to the Vizier and commanded him to push forward with the army against the city walls. So the troops advanced, but found none on the walls, whereat they marvelled and Zoulmekan was troubled.

To return to Dhat ed Dewahi. As soon as she had slain Sherkan, she hastened to the walls of Constantinople and called out in the Greek tongue to the guards, to throw her down a rope. Quoth they, "Who art thou?" and she said, "I am the princess Dhat ed Dewahi." They knew her and threw her down a rope, to which she tied herself, and they drew her up into the city. Then she went in to King Afridoun and said to him, "What is this I hear from the Muslims? They say that my son King Herdoub is slain." He answered, "It is true;" and when she heard this, she shrieked out and wept so grievously, that she made Afridoun and all who were present weep also. Then she told the King how she had slain Sherkan and thirty of his servants, whereat he rejoiced and thanked her and kissed her hands and exhorted her to resignation for the loss of her son. "By the Messiah," said she, "I will not rest content with killing one of the Muslim dogs in revenge for my son, a king of the kings of the age! But I will assuredly make shift to kill the Sultan Zoulmekan and the Vizier Dendan and the Chamberlain and Rustem and Behram and ten thousand cavaliers of the army of Islam to boot; for it shall never be that my son's head be paid with the blood-wit of Sherkan's head only." Then said she to Afridoun, "It is my wish that mourning be made for my son Herdoub and that the girdle be cut and the crosses broken." "Do what thou wilt," replied Afridoun; "I will not gainsay thee in aught. And if thou prolong thy mourning, it were a little thing; for though the Muslims beleaguer us years and years, they will never compass their will of us nor get aught of us but trouble and weariness." Then she took ink-horn and paper and wrote the following letter: "Shewaha Dhat ed Dewahi to the host of the Muslims. Know that I entered your country and duped your nobles and slew your king Omar ben Ennuman in the midst of his palace. Moreover, I slew, in the battle of the mountain pass and of the grotto, many of your men, and the last I killed were Sherkan and his servants. And if fortune favour me and Satan obey me, I will assuredly kill your Sultan and the Vizier Dendan, for I am she who came to you in the disguise of a recluse and ye were the dupes of my tricks and devices. Wherefore, if you be minded to be in safety, depart at once; and if you covet your own destruction, abide where you are; for though ye abide here years and years, ye shall not come by your desire of us; and so peace be on you." Then she devoted three days to mourning for her son King Herdoub, and on the fourth day, she called a knight and bade him make the letter fast to an arrow and shoot it into the Muslim camp; after which she entered the church and gave herself up to weeping and lamentation for the loss of her son, saying to him who took the kingship after him, "Nothing will serve me but I must kill Zoulmekan and all the princes of Islam."

Meanwhile, the Muslims passed three days in concern and anxiety, and on the fourth day, they saw a knight on the wall, holding a bow and about to shoot an arrow to which was fastened a letter. So they waited till he had shot, and the King bade the Vizier Dendan take the letter and read it. He did so, and when Zoulmekan heard its purport, his eyes filled with tears and he shrieked for anguish at the old woman's perfidy, and Dendan said, "By Allah, my heart shrank from her!" "How could this traitress impose upon us twice?" exclaimed Zoulmekan. "By Allah, I will not depart hence till I fill her kaze with molten lead and set her in a cage, as men do birds, then bind her with her hair and crucify her at the gate of Constantinople." Then he addressed himself again to the leaguer of the city, promising his men that, if it should be taken, he would divide its treasures equally among them. After this, he bethought him of his brother and wept sore; and his tears ceased not to flow, till his body was wasted with grief, as it were a bodkin. But the Vizier Dendan came in to him and said, "Take comfort and be consoled; thy brother died not but because his hour was come, and there is no profit in this mourning. How well says the poet:

That which is not to be shall by no means be brought To pass, and
     that which is to be shall come, unsought,
Even at the time ordained: but he that knoweth not The truth is
     still deceived and finds his hopes grown nought.

Wherefore do thou leave this weeping and lamentation and strengthen thy heart to bear arms." "O Vizier," replied Zoulmekan, "my heart is heavy for the death of my brother and father and our absence from our native land, and my mind is concerned for my subjects." Thereupon the Vizier and the bystanders wept; but they ceased not from the leaguer of Constantinople, till, after awhile, news arrived from Baghdad, by one of the Amirs, that the Sultan's wife had given birth to a son and that the princess Nuzhet ez Zeman had named him Kanmakan. Moreover, his sister wrote to him that the boy bid fair to be a prodigy and that she had commanded the priests and preachers to pray for them from the pulpits; also, that they were all well and had been blessed with abundant rains and that his comrade the stoker was in the enjoyment of all prosperity, with slaves and servants to attend upon him; but that he was still ignorant of what had befallen him. Zoulmekan rejoiced greatly at this news and said to the Vizier Dendan, "Now is my hope fulfilled and my back strengthened, in that I have been vouchsafed a son. Wherefore I am minded to leave mourning and let make recitations of the Koran over my brother's tomb and do almsdeeds on his account." Quoth the Vizier, "It is well." Then he caused tents to be pitched over his brother's tomb and they gathered together such of the troops as could repeat the Koran. Some fell to reciting the Koran, whilst others chanted the litanies of the praise of God, and thus they did till the morning, when Zoulmekan went up to the tomb of his brother Sherkan and shedding copious tears, repeated the following verses:

They bore him forth, whilst all who went behind him wept and
     cried Such cries as Moses gave, when God broke down the
     mountain side,
Till to a tomb they came, whose grave seemed dug in all men's
     hearts By whom the unity of God is held and glorified.
I had not thought, or ere they bore thee forth upon the bier, To
     see my joy upon the hands of men uplifted ride;
Nor, till they laid thee in the grave, could I have ever deemed
     That stars could leave their place in heaven and in the dark
     earth hide.
Is the indweller of the tomb the hostage of a pit, In which, for
     that his face is there, splendour and light abide?
Lo, praise has ta'en upon itself to bring him back to life; Now
     that his body's hid, his fame's shown forth and magnified.

When he had made an end of reciting these verses, he wept and all the troops wept with him; then he threw himself on the tomb, wild with grief, and the Vizier repeated the words of the poet:

That which fleets past thou hast left and won what endureth for
     aye, And even as thou are the folk, that were and have
     passed away;
And yet it was not of thy will that thou quittedst this house of
     the world; For here hadst thou joy and delight of all that
     befell in thy day.
How oft hast thou proven thyself a succour and shield from the
     foe, When the arrows and javelins of war flew thick in the
     midst of the fray!
I see that this world's but a cheat and a vanity after all, And
     ever to seek out the Truth all creatures desire and essay!
The Lord of the Empyrean vouchsafe thee in heaven to dwell And
     the Guide assign thee therein a goodly sojourn, I pray!
I bid thee adieu with a sigh and I see, for the loss of thee, The
     East and the West o'ershadowed with mourning and dismay.

When the Vizier had finished, he wept sore, and the tears fell from his eyes, like a network of pearls. Then came forward one of Sherkan's boon-companions, weeping till his eyes resembled rivers, and recalled the dead man's noble qualities, reciting the following cinquains:

Where be thy giving, alas! and the hand of thy bounty fled? They
     lie in the earth, and my body is wasted for drearihead.
O guide of the camel-litters,[FN#118] (may God still gladden thy
     stead!) My tears on my cheeks have written, in characters of
     red,
          That which would both rejoice thee and fill thee with
               pain and dread!
By Allah, 'twixt me and my heart, not a word of thee is said Nor
     doth the thought of thy grace and thy glory pass through my
     head,
But that mine eyes are wounded by dint of the tears I shed! Yea,
     if to rest on another my glance be ever led,
          May my lids be drawn in slumber by longing for the
               dead!

Then Zoulmekan and Dendan wept sore and the whole army lamented aloud; after which they all withdrew to their tents, and Zoulmekan turned to Dendan and took counsel with him concerning the conduct of the war. On this wise they passed days and nights, what while Zoulmekan was weighed down with grief and concern, till at last he said to the Vizier, "I have a mind to hear stories of adventures and chronicles of kings and tales of folk oppressed of love, so haply God may make this to solace the heavy anxiety that is on my heart and do away from me weeping and lamentation." "O King," replied Dendan, "if nought but hearing pleasant tales of bygone kings and peoples and stories of folk oppressed of love and so forth can dispel thy trouble, the thing is easy, for I had no other business, in the lifetime of thy late father, than to tell him stories and repeat verses to him; so, this very night, I will tell thee a story of a lover and his beloved, which shall lighten thy heart." When Zoulmekan heard this, his heart yearned after that which the Vizier promised him and he did nothing but watch for the coming of the night, that he might hear what he had to tell. So, no sooner had the night closed in, than he bade light the lamps and the candles and bring all that was needful of meat and drink and perfumes and what not and sending for Dendan, Rustem, Behram, Terkash and the Grand Chamberlain, turned to the Vizier and said, "O Vizier, behold, the night is come and hath let down its veils over us, and we desire that thou tell us that which thou didst promise us." "With all my heart," replied the Vizier "Know, O august King, that I have heard tell a story of a lover and a loved one and of the discourse between them and of the rare and pleasant things that befell them, a story such as does away care from the heart and dispels sorrow like unto that of the patriarch Jacob: and it is as follows:

Story of Taj El Mulouk and the Princess Dunya.

There stood once, behind the mountains of Ispahan, a town called the Green City, in which dwelt a king named Suleiman Shah, a man of virtue and beneficence, just, generous and loyal, to whom travellers resorted from all parts, for his renown was noised abroad in all cities and countries; and he reigned over the country for many years, in all honour and prosperity, save that he had neither wife nor child. Now he had a vizier who was akin to him in goodness and generosity, and one day, he sent for him and said to him, 'O my Vizier, my heart is heavy and my patience at end and my strength fails me, for that I have neither wife nor child. This is not of the fashion of kings that rule over all, princes and beggars; for they rejoice in leaving behind them children, who shall succeed them and by whom both their number and strength are multiplied. Quoth the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve), "Marry and engender and multiply, that I may boast myself of you over the peoples on the Day of Resurrection." So what is thy counsel, O Vizier? Advise me what is fitting to be done.' When the Vizier heard this, the tears streamed from his eyes and he replied, 'God forbid, O king of the age, that I should speak on that which is of the pertinence of the Compassionate One! Wilt thou have me cast into the fire by the wrath of the All-powerful King? Buy a concubine.' 'Know, O Vizier,' rejoined the King, 'that when a prince buys a female slave, he knows neither her condition nor her lineage and thus cannot tell if she be of mean extraction, that he may abstain from her, or of gentle blood, that he may be intimate with her. So if he have commerce with her, belike she will conceive by him and her son be a hypocrite, a tyrant and a shedder of blood. Indeed such a woman may be likened to a salt soil, which, if one till it, yields only worthless crops; for it may be the son in question will be obnoxious to the wrath of his Lord, doing not that which He commandeth him neither abstaining from that which He forbiddeth him. Wherefore I will never risk being the cause of this, through the purchase of a concubine; and it is my will, therefore, that thou demand for me in marriage the daughter of some one of the kings, whose lineage is known and whose beauty is renowned. If thou canst direct me to some king's daughter of the Muslims, who is a woman of good birth and piety, I will seek her hand and marry her before witnesses, that the favour of the Lord of all creatures may accrue to me thereby.' 'O King,' said the Vizier, 'God hath fulfilled thy need and hath brought thee to thy desire; for it hath come to my knowledge that King Zehr Shah, Lord of the White Country, hath a daughter of surpassing beauty, whom report fails to describe; she hath not her equal in this age, being perfect in beauty and symmetry, with melting black eyes and long hair, slender-waisted and heavy-hipped. When she draws nigh, she seduces, and when she turns her back, she slays, ravishing heart and sight, even as says of her the poet:

A slender one, her shape confounds the branch of the cassia tree;
     Nor sun nor moon can with her face for brightness evened be.
Meseems, the water of her mouth is honey blent with wine; Ay, and
     her teeth are finer pearls than any in the sea.
The purest white and deepest black meet in her glittering glance
     And shapelier than the black-eyed maids of Paradise is she.
How many a man her eyes have slain, who perished in despair; The
     love of her's a way wherein are fear and misery.
If I would live, behold, she's death! I may not think of her,
     Lest I should die; for, lacking her, life's nothing worth to
     me.

So it is my counsel, O King, that thou despatch to her father a sagacious and experienced ambassador, versed in the conduct of affairs, who shall with courteous and persuasive speech demand her in marriage for thee; for she hath not her equal in the world, far or near. So shalt thou enjoy her beauty in the way of right and the Lord of Glory be content with thee; for it is reported of the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve) that he said, "There is no monkery in Islam." At this the King was transported to the perfection of delight; his heart was lightened and his breast dilated and care and anxiety ceased from him; and he said to the Vizier, 'None shall go about this business but thou, by reason of thy consummate wit and good breeding; wherefore do thou make ready by the morrow and depart and demand me this girl in marriage, with whom thou hast made my heart to be engrossed; nor do thou return to me but with her.' 'I hear and obey,' replied the Vizier, and withdrawing to his own house, made ready a present such as befits kings, of jewels and other precious things, light of carriage but heavy of worth, besides Arabian horses and coats of mail, fine-wrought as those which David made,[FN#119] and chests of treasure, such as speech &fails to describe. These all he loaded upon camels and mules and set out, with flags and banners flying before him and attended by a hundred white slaves and the like number of black and a hundred slave-girls. The King charged him to return to him speedily; so he set out, leaving Suleiman Shah on coals of fire, engrossed night and day with desire for the princess, and fared on, without ceasing, night and day, across plains and deserts, till there remained but a day's journey between him and the city to which he was bound. Here he halted on the banks of a river, and calling one of his chief officers, bade him hasten forward to King Zehr Shah and announce his approach. Accordingly, the messenger rode on in haste to the city and was about to enter it, when the King, who chanced to be seated in one of his pleasaunces before the gate, espied him and knowing him for a stranger, bade bring him before him. So when the messenger came into his presence, he informed him of the approach of the Vizier of the mighty King Suleiman Shah, Lord of the Green Country and of the mountains of Ispahan; whereat King Zehr Shah rejoiced and bade him welcome. Then he carried him to his palace and said to him, 'Where didst thou leave the Vizier?' 'I left him,' replied the messenger, 'at the first of the day, on the banks of such a river, and he will be with thee to-morrow, may God continue His favours to thee and have mercy upon thy parents!' Whereupon the King commanded one of his Viziers to take the better part of his nobles and chamberlains and officers and grandees and go out to meet the ambassador, in honour of King Suleiman Shah, for that his dominion extended over the country.

Meanwhile, King Suleiman's Vizier abode in his stead, till the night was half spent, when he set out for the city; but hardly had the day appeared and the sun risen upon the hills and plains, when he saw King Zehr Shah's Vizier approaching with his retinue and the two parties joined company at some parasangs' distance from the city. At this the Vizier made sure of the success of his errand and saluted the new-comers, who escorted him to the King's palace and forewent him to the seventh vestibule, where none might enter on horseback, for it was near the presence chamber of the King. So the Vizier alighted and walked on till he came to a lofty hall, at the upper end whereof stood a couch of alabaster, set with pearls end jewels and having four elephants' tusks for feet. It was covered with a mattress of green satin, embroidered with red gold, and surmounted by a canopy adorned with pearls and jewels, and on it sat King Zehr Shah, whilst his officers of state stood in attendance on him. When the Vizier stood before him, he composed himself and loosing his tongue, displayed such skill of speech as befits viziers and saluted the King in eloquent and complimentary language, reciting the following verses in his honour:

He cometh, bending gracefully in his robes and shedding dew Of
     bounty over the thirsting land and the folk to him that sue.
Indeed, he charmeth; nor amulets nor spells nor magic may Avail
     to ward off the faithful glance of those his eyes from you.
Say to the censurers, "Blame me not: whilst life abide in me,
     I'll never swerve from the love of him nor turn to love
     anew."
Lo, slumber surely is tired of me and fallen in love with him,
     And even my heart hath played me false and but to him is
     true!
O heart, thou art not the only one that loves and tenders him, So
     get thee gone and bide with him and leave me here to rue!
Except the praise of the King Zehr Shah it be that folk acclaim,
     There's nought rejoices mine ears, in sooth, to hearken
     thereunto.
A King, the sight of whose glorious face would well thy pains
     repay; Though thou shouldst lavish thy heart's best blood,
     so great a grace to woo.
If thou be minded to offer up a pious prayer for him, Thou'lt
     find but true believer, and sharers the whole world through.
O folk of this realm, if any forswear his governance And look for
     another, I hold him none of the faithful few

When the Vizier had made an end of his speech, the King bade him draw near and showed him the utmost honour then seating him by his own side, he smiled in his face and made him a gracious reply. They conversed till the time of the morning-meal, when the attendants brought in the tables of food and they all ate till they were satisfied, after which the tables were removed and all who were present withdrew, with the exception of the chief officers; which when the Vizier saw, he rose to his feet, and after complimenting the King a second time and kissing the earth before him, spoke as follows: 'O mighty king and august prince, I have travelled hither and am come to thee upon an errand, wherein is profit and good and prosperity for thee; and it is that I come as ambassador to thee, seeking the hand of thy noble and illustrious daughter, from the most just, loyal and excellent King Suleiman Shah, Lord of the Green Country and of the mountains of Ispahan, who sends thee many and rare presents and gifts of price, ardently desiring thine alliance. Art thou, then, minded to him as he to thee?' And he was silent, awaiting a reply. When the King heard his words he sprang to his feet and kissed the earth respectfully before the Vizier, to the amazement of the bystanders, whose minds were confounded at his condescension to the ambassador. Then he praised Him who is the Lord of glory and honour and replied, still standing, 'O mighty Vizier and illustrious lord, hear what I say. Verily we are of the subjects of King Suleiman Shah and are ennobled by his alliance and aspire ardently thereto. My daughter is one of his handmaids, and it is my dearest wish that he may become my stay and my support in time of need.' Then he summoned the Cadis and the witnesses, who took act that King Suleiman had deputed his Vizier his proxy to conclude the marriage, and King Zehr Shah joyfully consented on behalf of his daughter. So the Cadis drew up the marriage contract and offered up prayers for the happiness and prosperity of the contracting parties; after which the Vizier arose and fetching the gifts and rarities and precious things that he had brought with him, laid them all before the King, who betook himself to the equipment of his daughter, honourably entreating the Vizier and feasting great and small; and they held high festival for two months, omitting nought that could gladden heart and eye. When all was ready that was needful for the bride, the King caused the tents to be pitched without the city and they packed the bride's clothes and jewels in chests and loaded them on mules and camels. Now he had provided his daughter with Greek handmaids and Turkish slave-girls and great store of jewels and precious things, and had let make for her a litter of red gold inlaid with pearls and jewels, which within was as one of the chambers of a palace and without as one of the pavilions of Paradise, whilst its mistress seemed as she were of the lovely hours. Moreover, he furnished her also with twenty mules for the journey and brought her three parasangs forward on her road, after which he bade her and the Vizier farewell and returned to his own city in peace and gladness. Meanwhile, the Vizier and his company fared on by forced marches, traversing plains and deserts and staying not day or night, till they came within three days' journey of King Suleiman's capital, when the Vizier despatched a messenger to acquaint the King with their arrival. The messenger hastened forward till he reached the King's presence and announced to him the coming of the bride, whereat he rejoiced and bestowed on him a dress of honour. Then he bade his troops don their richest apparel and sally forth in grand procession, with banners flying, to meet the princess and her company and do them honour, and let cry throughout the city that neither cloistered damsel nor honoured lady nor infirm old woman should fail to go forth to meet the bride. So they all went out to meet her and the chiefest of them vied in doing her service, meaning to bring her to the King's palace by night. Moreover, the grandees agreed to decorate the road and stand on either side, whilst the bride should pass by, clad in the robes her father had given her and preceded by her eunuchs and serving-women. So at the appointed time, she made her appearance, surrounded by the troops, these on her right hand and those on her left, and the litter ceased not going with her, till they drew near the palace; nor was there any one but came forth to gaze upon the show. The drums beat and the lances were brandished, the trumpets blared and the banners fluttered and the horses pranced, whilst fragrant odours breathed around, till they reached the gate of the palace and the pages entered with the litter through the private gate. The place shone with its splendours and the walls glittered for the lustre of its ornaments. When the night came, the eunuchs threw open the doors of the bride-chamber and stood on either hand; whereupon the bride entered, among her damsels, like the moon among stars or a pearl of matchless beauty in a string of lesser pearls, and seated herself upon a couch of alabaster inlaid with pearls and jewels, that had been set for her there. Then came the King in to her and God filled his heart with love of her; so he did away her maidenhead, and his trouble and disquiet ceased from him. She conceived by him the first night, and he abode with her well-nigh a month, at the end of which time he went forth and seating himself on his throne of state, dispensed justice to his subjects, till the months of her pregnancy were accomplished. Towards daybreak on the last night of the ninth month, the queen was seized with the pangs of labour; so she sat down on the stool of delivery and God made the travail easy to her, so that she gave birth to a male child, on whom appeared the signs of happy fortune. When the King heard of this, he rejoiced with an exceeding joy and rewarded the bearer of the good tidings with much treasure. Then, of his gladness, he went in to the child and kissed him between the eyes, wondering at his brilliant beauty; for in him was the saying of the poet made truth:

God hath a lion given in him unto the forts of fame And in the
     heaven of high estate hath set another star.
Lo, at his birth, the spears shake all and all the wild deer
     start And all the chieftains of the folk and all the men of
     war!
So mount him not upon the breasts, for he shall surely deem That
     horses' backs for such as he the softer sitting are;
And wean ye him from sucking milk, for he eftsoon shall find The
     blood of foemen in the field the sweeter drink by far.

The midwives took the new-born child and cut the cord of his navel, after which they anointed his eyes with kohl and named him Taj el Mulouk Kharan. He was suckled at the breast of delight and reared in the lap of favouring fortune, and the days ran on and the years passed by, till he reached the age of seven. Then the King his father summoned the doctors and learned men and bade them teach his son writing and science and polite letters. This they did for some years, till he had learnt all that was needful, when the King took him out of the professors' hands and committed him to a master, who taught him horsemanship and the use of arms, till the boy attained the age of fourteen and became proficient in martial exercises. Moreover, he outshone all the people of his time for the excess of his beauty; so that, whenever he went abroad on any occasion, all who saw him were ravished with him and made verses in his honour, and even the virtuous were seduced by his brilliant loveliness. Quoth the poet of him:

A tender branch, that from the breeze hath ta'en its nourishment!
     I clipped him and straightway became drunk with his sweetest
     scent;
Not drunken with the drunkenness of one who drinketh wine, But
     with the honey of his mouth fulfilled of languishment.
All loveliness comprised is within his perfect form, So that o'er
     all the hearts of men he reigns omnipotent.
By God, forgetfulness of him shall never cross my mind. What
     while I wear the chains of life, nor even when they're rent!
Lo, if I live, in love of him I'll live; and, if I die Of
     love-longing for him, I'll say, "O rare! O excellent!"

When he reached his eighteenth year, the tender down began to invade the table of his rosy cheeks, which were adorned by a black mole like a grain of ambergris, and he captivated the minds and eyes of all who looked on him, even as says of him the poet in the following verses:

He is become the Khalif of beauty in Joseph's place; The hearts
     of all lovers dread him, whenas they see his grace.
Pause thou with me and fasten thy gaze on him! thou'lt see The
     sign of the Khalifate set in sable[FN#120] on his face.

And as says another:

Thine eyes have never looked upon a fairer sight, Of all the
     things that are to see beneath the sky,
Than yonder mole of brown, that nestles on his face, Midmost the
     rosy cheek, beneath the coal-black eye.

And a third:

I marvel at yon mole that serves the fire eternal, Upon his
     cheek, yet is not burned, all Kafir[FN#121] though it be;
And eke I marvel that he's sent or God, with every glance To work
     true miracles; and yet a sorcerer is he!
The many gall-bladders that burst for him it is that make The
     shining fringes of his cheek so black and bright to see.

And yet a fourth:

I wonder to hear the folk ask of the water of life And question
     in which of the lands its magical fountain flows
Whenas I see it well from the damask lips of a fawn, Under his
     tender moustache and his cheek's perennial rose.
And eke 'tis a wonder of wonders that Moses,[FN#122] finding it
     there Flowing, yet took no patience nor laid him down to
     repose.

When he came to man's estate, his beauty increased and he had many comrades and friends; and every one who drew near to him hoped that he would become Sultan after his father's death and that he himself might be one of his officers. He had a passion for hunting and would hardly leave the chase a single hour. His father would have restrained him, fearing for him the perils of the desert: and the wild beasts; but he paid no heed to him. One day, he bade his attendants take ten days' provender and setting out for the chase, rode on into the desert four days long, at the end of which time he came to a verdant champaign, full of wild beasts pasturing and trees laden with ripe fruit and springs welling forth. Then he said to his followers, 'Set up the nets in a wide circle and let our general rendezvous be at the mouth of the ring, in such a spot.' So they staked out a wide circle with the nets; and there gathered together a multitude of all kinds of wild beasts and gazelles, which cried out for fear of them and threw themselves in terror right in the face of the horses. Then they loosed the dogs and sakers and hunting lynxes on them and smote them with arrows in the vitals; so, by the time they came to the closed end of the ring of nets, they took a great number of the wild beasts, and the rest fled. Then the prince sat down by the water-side and letting spread the game before himself, apportioned it among his men, after he had set apart the choicest thereof for his father King Suleiman and despatched it to him; and other part he divided among the officers of his court. He passed the night in that place, and when it was morning, there came up a caravan of merchants, with their slaves and servants, and halted by the water and the verdure. When Taj el Mulouk saw this, he said to one of his companions, 'Go, bring me news of yonder folk and ask them why they have halted here.' So the man went up to them and said, 'Tell me who ye are, and answer quickly.' 'We are merchants,' replied they, 'and have halted here to rest, for that the next station is distant and we have confidence in King Suleiman Shah and his son Taj el Mulouk, knowing that all who alight in their dominions are in peace and safety; and we have with us precious stuffs, that we have brought for the prince.' The messenger returned with this news to the prince, who said, I will not depart hence till I see what they have brought for me. Then he mounted and rode to the caravan, followed by his servants. The merchants rose to receive him and invoked on him the aid and favour of God, with continuance of glory and virtues; after which they pitched him a pavilion of red satin, emblazoned with pearls and jewels, in which they spread him a royal divan, upon a silken carpet embroidered at the upper end with emeralds. The prince seated himself on the divan, whilst his servants stood in attendance upon him, and bade the merchants bring out all that they had with them. Accordingly, they produced all their merchandise, and he viewed it and took of it what liked him, paying them the price. Then he remounted and was about to ride onward, when his eyes fell on a handsome young man, well dressed and elegantly made, with flower-white forehead and face brilliant as the moon, save that his beauty was wasted and that pallor had invaded his cheeks by reason of separation from those he loved: sighing and lamentation were grievous upon him and the tears streamed from his eyelids, as he repeated the following verses:

Absence is long and care and fear are heavy on my soul, Whilst
     from mine eyes the tears, O friend, without cessation roll.
Alas, I left my heart behind upon the parting day, And now sans
     heart, sans hope, abide all lonely in my dole.
Pause with me, O my friend, what while I take my leave of one By
     whose sweet speech diseases all and sorrows are made whole.

Having said this, he wept awhile and fell down in a swoon, whilst Taj el Mulouk looked at him wonderingly then coming to himself, he stared fixedly before him, with distracted air, and repeated these other verses:

I rede thee beware of her glance, for, lo, 'tis a wizard, I ween!
     None 'scapeth unscathed of the shafts of her eyes, that has
     gazed on their sheen.
For, trust me, black eyes, that are armed with the grace of a
     languorous look, Are swifter and sharper to wound than
     scimitars, tempered and keen.
And let not thy mind be beguiled by the sweet and the soft of her
     words; For the fever that springs from her speech
     o'ermasters the senses, demesne.
Soft-sided, were silk but to press on her skin, it would cause it
     to bleed, So delicate-bodied she is and so nesh, as forsooth
     thou hast seen.
Right chary she is of the charms 'twixt her neck and her anklets
     that lie, And what is the sweetest of scents to the
     fragrance that breathes from my queen!

Then he gave a sob and swooned away a second time. When Taj el Mulouk saw him thus, he was perplexed about his case and went up to him. So when he came to himself and saw the prince standing by him, he sprang to his feet and kissed the earth before him; and Taj el Mulouk said to him, 'Why didst thou not show us thy merchandise?' 'O my lord,' answered the young merchant, 'there is nought among my stock worthy of thine august highness.' 'It matters not,' said the prince, 'thou must show me what thou hast and acquaint me with thy case; for I see thee weeping-eyed and mournful-hearted. If thou hast been wronged, we will do away thine oppression, and if thou be in debt, we will discharge thy debt; for my heart aches for thee, since I first set eyes on thee.' Then he called for seats and they set him a chair of ebony and ivory, netted with gold and silk, and spread him a silken carpet. So he sat down on the chair and bidding the young merchant seat himself on the carpet, again commanded him to show him his merchandise. 'O my lord,' said he, 'do not name this to me; for I have nought worthy of thee.' 'I will have it so,' rejoined Taj el Mulouk and bade some of the servants fetch the goods. So they brought them in spite of the merchant; and when he saw this, the tears streamed from his eyes and he wept and sighed and lamented; sobs rose from his bosom and he repeated the following verses:

By the witching amorous sweetness and the blackness of thine
     eyes, By the tender flexile softness in thy slender waist
     that lies,
By the graces and the languor of thy body and thy shape, By the
     fount of wine and honey from thy coral lips that rise,
O my hope, to see thine image in my dreams were sweeter far Than
     were safety to the fearful, languishing in woful wise!

Then he opened his bales and displayed their contents to Taj el Mulouk, piece by piece, till he came to a mantle of satin brocaded with gold, worth two thousand dinars from which, when he opened it, there fell a piece of linen. As soon as he saw this, he caught up the piece of linen in haste and hid it under his thigh; and indeed he seemed as though he had lost his reason, and he repeated the following verses:

When shall my sad tormented heart be healed, alas, of thee? The
     Pleiades were nearer far than is thy grace to me.
Distance estrangement, longing pain and fire of love laid waste,
     Procrastination and delay, in these my life doth flee.
For no attainment bids me live nor exile slays me quite, Travel
     no nigher doth me bring, nor wilt thou nearer be.
There is no justice to be had of thee nor any ruth In thee; no
     winning to thy grace and yet no breaking free.
Alack, for love of thee, the ways are straitened all on me; So
     that I know not where I go nor any issue see!

The prince wondered greatly at his behaviour, and said to him, 'What is that piece of linen?' 'O my lord,' replied the merchant, 'thou hast no concern with it.' 'Show it me,' said the prince; and the merchant answered, 'O my lord, it was on account of this piece of linen that I refused to show thee my goods; for I cannot let thee look on it.' But Taj el Mulouk rejoined, 'I must and will see it;' and insisted and became angry. So he drew it out from under his thigh, weeping and lamenting and redoubling his sighs and groans, and repeated the following verses:

Blame ye the lover not, for blame but irketh him to hear; Indeed,
     I spoke him truth, but he to me would lend no ear.
God have her in His care, my moon that rises far away, Down in
     the valley, midst the camp, from out the collars'
     sphere![FN#123]
I left her; would to God my love had left me peace of life! So
     had I never parted been from her that held me dear.
O how she pleaded for my sake upon our parting day, What while
     adown her cheeks and mine tear followed upon tear!
May God belie me not! The wede of my excuse from me Was all to
     rent for loss of her; but I will mend my cheer.
No bed is easy to my side, nor is her resting-place Ayemore
     reposeful unto her, now I'm no longer near.
For Fate with an ill-omened hand hath wrought upon our loves And
     hindered me from my delight and her from hers, yfere.
Indeed, what time it filled the cup, whereof she drank what I
     E'en made her drink, it poured us out grief, all unmixed and
     sheer.

Quoth Taj el Mulouk, 'Thy conduct perplexes me; tell me why thou weepest at the sight of this piece of linen.' When the young merchant heard speak of the piece of linen, he sighed and answered, 'O my lord, my story is a strange and eventful one, with regard to this piece of linen and her from whom I had it and her who wrought the figures and emblems that be thereon.' So saying, he unfolded the piece of linen, and behold, thereon were the figures of two gazelles, facing one another, one wrought in silk and gold and the other in silver with a ring of red gold and three bugles of chrysolite about its neck. When Taj el Mulouk saw the figures and the beauty of their fashion, he exclaimed, 'Glory be to God who teacheth man that which he knoweth not!' And his heart was filled with longing to hear the merchant's story; so he said to him, 'Tell me thy story with her who gave thee these gazelles.' 'Know, O my lord,' replied the young man, 'that

Story of Aziz and Azizeh.

My father was one of the chief merchants (of my native town) and God had vouchsafed him no other child than myself; but I had a cousin, the daughter of my father's brother, who was brought up with me in our house; for her father was dead and before his death, he had agreed with my father that I should marry her. So when I reached man's estate and she became a woman, they did not separate us, and we ceased not to sleep on the same couch, knowing no evil, albeit she was more thoughtful, more intelligent and quicker-witted than I, till at last, my father spoke to my mother and said, "This very year we will draw up the contract of marriage between Aziz and Azizeh." So they agreed upon this, and he betook himself to preparing victual for the marriage festivities. When he had made an end of his preparations and there remained nought but to draw up the contract and consummate the marriage, he appointed the wedding for a certain Friday, after the congregational prayers, and going round to his friends among the merchants and others, acquainted them with this, whilst my mother invited her female friends and kindred. When the day came, they cleaned the guest-chamber and washed the marble floor, then spread carpets about the house and set out thereon what was needful, after they had hung the walls with cloth of gold. Now the folk had agreed to come to our house after the Friday-prayers; so my father went and let make cates and dishes of sweetmeats, and there remained nothing to do but to draw up the contract. Then my mother sent me to the bath and sent after me a suit of new clothes of the richest kind which I put on, when I came out. The clothes were perfumed, and as I went along, there exhaled from them a delicious fragrance, that scented the way. I was about to repair to the mosque, when I bethought me of one of my friends and was minded to go in quest of him that he might be present at the drawing up of the contract, saying in myself, "This will occupy me till near the time of prayer." So I turned back and came to a by-street, that I had never before entered. Now I was in a profuse perspiration, from the effects of the bath and the new clothes on my body, and the sweat streamed from me, whilst the perfume of my clothes was wafted abroad: so I sat down to rest on a stone bench at the upper end of the street, spreading under me an embroidered handkerchief I had with me. The heat redoubled on me, so that my forehead sweated and the drops ran down on to my cheeks; but I could not wipe my face with my handkerchief, because I lay upon it. So I was about to take the skirt of my gaberdine and wipe my cheeks with it, when suddenly there fell on me from above a white handkerchief, softer to the feel than the zephyr and pleasanter to the sight than recovery to the sick. I seized on it and looking up to see whence it came, my eyes met those of the lady who gave me these gazelles. She was looking out of a wicket in a lattice of brass and never saw my eyes a fairer than she; my tongue fails to picture her beauty. When she saw me looking at her, she put her forefinger to her mouth, then joined her middle and index fingers and laid them on her bosom, between her breasts; after which she drew in her head and shut the wicket. With this, fire broke out and raged in my heart; the glance I had of her cost me a thousand sighs and I abode perplexed, having heard no word from her and understanding not the meaning of her signs. I looked again at the window, but found it shut and waited till sundown but heard no sound and saw no one. When I despaired of seeing her again, I rose and taking up the handkerchief, opened it, whereupon there exhaled from it a scent of musk, which caused me such ease that meseemed I was in Paradise. Then I spread it out before me and there dropped from it a little scroll of paper. I opened the scroll, which was scented with a delicious perfume, and found written therein the following verses:

I sent my love a scroll, complaining of desire Writ in a fine,
     small hand; for writings vary still.
"Why is thy writing thus," my lover said to me, "Attenuate and
     small, uneath to read and ill?"
Quoth I, "Because I too am wasted, ay, and thin. Thus should
     their writing be, who weary at Love's will."

Then, casting my eyes on the beauty of the handkerchief, I saw embroidered on one of its borders the following verses:

The down of his whiskers writes (good luck to it for A scribe!)
     Two lines, in the basil[FN#124] hand, on the table of his
     face.
O the wilderment of the moon at him, when he appears! And O the
     shame of the branch at sight of his flexile grace!

And on the opposite border were the following verses:

The whiskers write upon his cheeks, with ambergris on pearl, Two
     lines, as 'twere with jet upon an apple, line for line.
Death harbours in his languid eyes and slays with every glance;
     And in his cheeks is drunkenness, and not in any wine.

When I read what was written on the handkerchief, the flames of love raged in my heart, and longing and trouble redoubled on me. So I took the handkerchief and the scroll and went home, knowing no means to compass my desire, for that I was inexperienced in love affairs and unskilled in the interpretation of the language of signs used therein. The night was far spent before I reached my house, and when I entered, I found my cousin sitting weeping. As soon as she saw me, she wiped away her tears and coming up to me, took off my (outer) clothes and asked me the reason of my absence, saying, "All the folk, amirs and notables and merchants and others, assembled here, and the Cadi and the witnesses came also at the appointed time. They ate and sat awhile, awaiting thy coming for the drawing up of the contract, till they despaired of thee, when they dispersed and went their ways. And indeed," added she, "thy father was exceeding wroth, by reason of this, and swore that he would not celebrate our marriage till next year, for that he hath spent much money on this occasion. What hath befallen thee to make thee tarry till now?" "O my cousin," replied I, "do not ask me what hath befallen me." Then I told her all that had passed and showed her the handkerchief and the scroll. She took them and read what was written therein; whereupon the tears ran down her cheeks and she repeated the following verses:

Who says to thee, the first of love is free, Tell him, not so;
     but, on the contrary,
'Tis all constraint, wherein no blame can be. History indeed
     attests this verity;
     It does not style the good coin falsified.
Say, if thou wilt, the taste of pain is sweet, Or to be spurned
     by Fortune's flying feet;
Of need or vengeance, fortune or defeat, With joy or dole it
     makes the heart to beat:
     'Twixt phrase and counterphrase I'm stupefied.
But as for him whose happy days are light, Fair maids, whose lips
     with smiles are ever bright,
Borne on the fragrant gales of their delight, Who hath his will,
     unhindered of despite,
     'Tis not with him A craven heart may bide.

Then she asked me what she said and what signs she made to me. "She spoke not," answered I; "but put her index finger to her mouth, then joining it to her middle finger, laid them both on her bosom and pointed in the ground, after which she drew in her head and shut the wicket and I saw her no more. She took my heart with her and I sat till sundown, expecting her to appear again at the window; but she came not: so, when I despaired of her, I rose and went home. This is my story, and I beg thee to help me in this my affliction." With this, she raised her face to me and said, "O my cousin, if thou soughtest my eye, I would tear it from its socket for thee, and I cannot choose but help thee to thy desire and her also to hers; for she is passionately enamoured of thee, even as thou of her." "And what is the meaning of her signs?" asked I. "As for the putting her finger to her mouth," replied Azizeh, "it meant that thou art to her as her soul to her body and that she would bite upon union with thee with her wisdom-teeth. The handkerchief is the token of greeting from lover to beloved and the scroll is a sign that her heart is bound up in thee. As for the laying her two fingers between her breasts, it is as if she said to thee, 'Return hither after two days, that the sight of thy countenance may dispel my anguish.' For know, O my cousin, that she loves thee and trusts in thee. This is my reading of her signs, and could I come and go at will, I would quickly bring you and her together and cover you both with my skirt." I thanked her and said to myself, "I will wait two days." So I abode two days in the house, without going out, and ate not nor drank, but lay with my head in my cousin's lap, whilst she comforted me and bade me take heart and be of good cheer. When the two days were past, she said to me, "Take courage and dress thyself and go to her, according to the tryst." Then she rose and changed my clothes and perfumed me with incense. So I took heart and went out and walked on till I came to the by-street, where I sat down on the bench. After awhile, the wicket opened and I looked up and seeing the lady, fell down in a swoon. When I revived, I took courage to look again at her and again became insensible. Then I came to myself and looking at her, saw that she had a mirror and a red handkerchief in her hand. When she saw me, she bared her forearms and smote her breast with her palm and five fingers; after which she raised her hands and holding the mirror forth of the wicket, took the red handkerchief and retired with it, but immediately returned and putting out her hand with the handkerchief, lowered it towards the ground and raised it again three several times. Then she wrung it out and folded it in her hands, bowing her head the while; after which she drew in her head and shutting the window, went away, without saying a word, leaving me confounded and knowing not what she meant. I sat there till the evening and did not return home till near midnight, when I found my cousin sitting, weeping bitterly and repeating the following verses:

Ah me, what ails the censurer, that he at thee should flite? How
     shall I be consoled for thee, and thou a sapling slight?
O thou, the splendour of whose sight has ta'en my heart by storm,
     Whose supple bending grace compels to passion's utmost
     height,[FN#125]
Whose eyes, with Turkish languor caught, work havoc in the breast
     And leave such wounds as ne'er were made by falchion in the
     fight!
Thou layst on me a heavy load of passion and desire, On me that
     am too weak to bear a shift upon me dight.
Ay, tears of blood I weep, for that my censors say to me, "A
     sudden sword, from out his lids thou lovest, shall thee
     smite."
Ah, would my heart were like to thine, even as my body is Like to
     thy waist, all thin and frail and dwindled for despite!
Thou, that my prince in beauty art, a steward[FN#126] hast, whose
     rule Aggrieves me and a chamberlain[FN#127] that doth me
     foul upright.
He lies who says, "All loveliness in Joseph was comprised." How
     many Josephs are there not within thy beauty bright!
I force myself to turn from thee, for fear of spying eyes, Though
     sore it irks me to forswear the solace of thy sight.

At this, trouble and grief redoubled on me and I fell down in a corner; whereupon she sprang up and coming to me, lifted me up and took off my outer clothes and wiped my face with her sleeve. Then she asked me how I had fared, and I told her all that had happened. "O my cousin," said she, "as for her sign to thee with her palm and five fingers, it meant, 'Return after five days;' and her gestures with the mirror and the putting forth of her head and the lowering and raising of the red handkerchief meant, 'Sit in the dyer's shop, till my messenger come to thee.'" When I heard this, fire flamed up in my heart and I exclaimed, "O my cousin, by Allah, thou sayst sooth in this thine interpretation; for I saw the shop of a Jewish dyer in the street." Then I wept, and she said, "O my cousin, summon up resolution and be steadfast of heart: others are occupied with love for years and are constant to endure the ardour of passion, whilst thou hast but a week[FN#128] to wait; so why art thou thus impatient?" Then she went on to cheer me with comfortable talk and brought me food: so I took a mouthful, but could not eat and abstained from meat and drink and knew not the solace of sleep, till my colour paled and I lost my good looks; for I had never before been in love nor tasted the ardour of passion. So I fell sick and my cousin also sickened on my account; but every night she would divert me with stories of love and lovers, till I fell asleep; and whenever I awoke, I used to find her wakeful for my sake, with the tears running down her cheeks. Thus we did till the five days were past, when she rose and heating water, bathed me with it. Then she dressed me and said to me, "Go to her and may God fulfil your wish and bring thee to thy desire of thy beloved!" So I went out and walked on, till I came to the by-street. I found the dyer's shop shut, for it was Saturday, and sat before it, till I heard the call to afternoon-prayer. Then the sun turned pale, the Muezzins chanted the call to the prayer of sunset and the night came; but I saw no sign nor heard aught of her. With this, I feared for myself, sitting there alone; so I rose and went home, staggering like a drunken man. When I reached the house, I found my cousin Azizeh standing, with one hand grasping a peg driven into the wall and the other on her breast; and she was sighing heavily and repeating the following verses:

The longing of a Bedouin maid, whose folk are far away, Who
     yearns after the willow of the Hejaz and the hay,[FN#129]
Whose tears, when she on travellers lights, might for their water
     serve And eke her passion, with its heat, their bivouac-fire
     purvey,
Is not more fierce nor ardent than my longing for my love, Who
     deems that I commit a crime in loving him alway.

When she had finished, she turned and seeing me, wiped away her tears and mine with her sleeve. Then she smiled in my face and said, "O my cousin, God grant thee joy of that which He hath given thee! Why didst thou not pass the night with thy beloved and why hast thou not fulfilled thy desire of her?" When I heard what she said, I gave her a kick in the breast and she fell over on to the edge of the estrade and struck her forehead against a peg there. I looked at her and saw that her forehead was cut open and the blood running; but she was silent and did not utter a syllable. She made some tinder of rags and staunching the wound with it, bound her forehead with a bandage; after which she wiped up the blood that had fallen on the carpet, and it was as if nothing had happened. Then she came up to me and smiling in my face, said, with gentle speech, "By Allah, O my cousin, I had it not in my thought to mock at thee or at her! I was troubled with a pain in my head and thought to be let blood, but now thou hast eased my head and brow; so tell me what has befallen thee to-day." So I told her what had passed and she wept and said, "O my cousin, rejoice in the near fulfilment of thy desire and the attainment of thy hopes. Verily, this is a sign of acceptance; she only stayed away, because she wished to try thee and know if thou wert patient and sincere in thy love for her or not. To-morrow, do thou go to her at the old place and note what signs she makes to thee; for indeed thy gladness is near and the end of thy grief is at hand." And she went on to comfort me; but my trouble and affliction ceased not to increase on me. Presently, she brought me food, but I kicked the dishes away, so that their contents were scattered in all directions, and said, "Every lover is a madman; he inclines not to food neither enjoys sleep." "By Allah, O my cousin," answered she, "these are indeed the signs of love!" And the tears streamed down her cheeks, whilst she gathered the fragments of the dishes and wiped up the food; then she sat down by me and talked to me, whilst I prayed God to hasten the coming of the day. When, at last, the morning arose with its light and shone, I went out and hastening to the by-street in question, sat down on the bench, when behold, the wicket opened and she put out her head, laughing. Then she went in and returned with a mirror, a bag, a pot of flowering plants and a lamp. First, she took the mirror and putting it into the bag, tied it up and threw it back into the room; after which she let down her hair over her face and set the lamp an instant on the pot of flowers; then took up all the things and shutting the window, went away, without saying a word. My heart was tortured by her obscure signs and mysterious gestures, and passion and distraction redoubled on me. So I retraced my steps, tearful-eyed and mournful-hearted, and returning home, found Azizeh sitting, with her face to the wall; for her heart was on fire for grief and anxiety and jealousy; albeit the love she bore me forbade her to acquaint me with what she suffered, by reason of what she saw of the excess of my passion and distraction (for another). I looked at her and saw that she had two bandages on her head, one on account of the wound on her forehead, and the other over her eye, which pained her for excess of weeping; and she was in very sorry plight, weeping and repeating the following verses:

I count the nights, night after night, the weary nights and slow;
     Yet would I, once upon a time, unreckoned let them go.
I have no knowledge, O my friend, of that which God ordains Of
     Leila or what He decrees to me, but this I know
He to another her adjudged and cursed me with her love: So hath
     He not afflicted me with other than her woe.

When she had finished, she looked round and seeing me through her tears, wiped them away and came up to me, but could not speak for excess of emotion. So she was silent awhile, then said to me, "O my cousin, tell me what befell thee with her this time." So I told her all that had passed, and she said, "Be patient, for the time of thy delight is come, and thou hast won to the attainment of thy hopes. As for her sign with the mirror and the bag, it was as if she said to thee, 'When the sun is set;' and the letting down of her hair over her face signified, When the night is come and hath let fall the blackness of the dark and overmastered the daylight, come hither.' As for her gesture with the flower-pot and the lamp, it meant, 'When thou comest, enter the garden behind the street, and where as thou seest the lamp burning, go thither and seat thyself beneath it and wait for me; for the love of thee is killing me.'" When I heard this, I cried out for excess of passion and said, "How long wilt thou deceive me with promises and I go to her, but get not my will nor find any truth in thine interpreting?" At this, she laughed and replied, "Thou needest but have patience for the rest of the day, till the light depart and the night come with the darkness, and thou shalt enjoy fruition and accomplish thy hopes. And indeed this is true without leasing." And she repeated the following verses:

Let the days pass, as they list, and fare, And enter thou not the
     house of despair.
Full oft when the quest of a thing is hard, The next hour brings
     us the end of our care.

Then she came to me and began to comfort me with soothing words, but dared not offer me food, fearing my wrath and seeking to make me incline to her: so she only took off my upper garment and said to me, "Sit, O my cousin, that I may entertain thee with talk, till the end of the day; and God willing, thou shalt be with thy beloved as soon as it is night." But I paid no heed to her and gave not over looking for the coming of the night, saying, "O Lord, hasten the coming of the night!" till the hour of the evening-prayer, when she wept sore and giving me a grain of pure musk, said to me, "O my cousin, put this in thy mouth, and when thou foregatherest with thy beloved and hast taken thy will of her and she hath granted thee thy desire, repeat to her this verse:

Tell me, O lovers, for God's sake, I do entreat of you, When love is sore upon a maid, alack! what shall she do?"

And she kissed me and made me swear not to repeat this to my mistress, till I should be about to leave her. Then I went out and walked on till I came to the garden. I found the door open; so I entered, and seeing a light in the distance, made towards it and came to a great pavilion, vaulted over with a dome of ivory and ebony, from the midst of which hung the lamp. The floor was spread with silken carpets, embroidered in gold and silver, and under the lamp stood a great candle, burning in a stand of gold. Midmost the pavilion was a fountain, adorned with all manner of figures; and by it stood a table of food, covered with a silken napkin, and a great porcelain vase full of wine, with a goblet of crystal, sprayed with gold. Near these was a great covered dish of silver, which I uncovered and found therein fruits of all kinds, figs and pomegranates and grapes and oranges and citrons and shaddocks, together with all manner sweet-scented flowers, such as roses and jasmine and myrtle and eglantine and narcissus and all kinds of sweet-smelling herbs; but I saw there not a living soul, no, not even a slave, male or female, to guard these things. I was transported with delight at what I saw, and my grief and anxiety ceased from me. So I sat down to await the coming of the beloved of my heart: but the first hour of the night passed by, and the second and the third, and still she came not. Then I grew sore an hungred, for that it was long since I had tasted food by reason of the violence of my passion: but when I found the garden even as my cousin had told me and saw the truth of her interpretation of my mistress's signs, my mind was set at rest and I made sure of attaining my desire, so that nature resumed its sway and I felt the pangs of hunger. Moreover the odour of the viands on the table excited in me a longing to eat: so I went up to the table, and lifting the cover, found in the middle a porcelain dish, containing four fricasseed fowls, seasoned with spices, round which were four smaller dishes, one containing sweetmeats, another conserve of pomegranate-seeds, a third almond patties and a fourth honey fritters, and the contents of these dishes were part sweet and part acid. So I ate of the fritters and a piece of meat, then went on to the almond patties and ate what I would of them; after which I attacked the sweetmeats, of which I ate a spoonful or two or three or four, ending with part of a fowl and a mouthful of bread. With this my stomach became full and my limbs heavy and I grew drowsy; so I laid my head on a cushion, after having washed my hands, and sleep overcame me; and I knew not what happened to me after this nor did I awake till the sun's heat burnt me, for that I had not tasted sleep for days. When I awoke, I found myself lying on the naked marble, with a piece of salt and another of charcoal on my stomach; so I stood up and shook my clothes and turned right and left, but could see no one. At this I was perplexed and afflicted; the tears ran down my cheeks and I mourned grievously for myself. Then I returned home, and when I entered, I found my cousin beating her bosom and weeping like the rain-clouds, as she repeated the following verses:

From out my loved one's land a breeze blows cool and sweet: The
     fragrance of its wafts stirs up the ancient heat.
Blow, zephyr of the East! Each lover hath his lot, His
     heaven-appointed doom of fortune or defeat.
Lo, if we might, we would embrace thee for desire, Even as a
     lover clips his mistress, when they meet.
Whenas my cousin's face is absent, God forbids All pleasance
     [unto me] and all life has of sweet.
Ah, would I knew his heart was even as is mine, All wasted and
     consumed by passion's flaming feet!

When she saw me, she rose in haste and wiping away her tears, accosted me with her soft speech, saying, "O my cousin, verily God hath been gracious to thee in thy love, in that she whom thou lovest loves thee, whilst I pass my time in weeping and lamenting my separation from thee that blamest and chidest me; but may God not reproach thee for my sake!" Then she smiled in my face, a sad smile, and caressed me; then taking off my outer clothes, she spread them out and said, "By Allah, this is not the scent of one who hath enjoyed his mistress! Tell me what has befallen thee, O my cousin." So I told her all that had passed, and she smiled again, a sad smile, and said, "Verily, my heart is full of pain; but may he not live who would hurt thy heart! Indeed, this woman makes herself extravagantly difficult to thee, and by Allah, I fear for thee from her. Know that the meaning of the salt is that thou wert drowned in sleep and she likens thee to insipid food, at which the soul sickens; and it is as if she said to thee, 'It behoves that thou be salted, lest nature reject thee. Thou professest to be of the true lovers, but sleep is forbidden to a lover; therefore, thy love is false.' But it is her love for thee that is false; for she saw thee asleep, yet awoke thee not, and were her love for thee sincere, she had aroused thee. As for the charcoal, it means, 'God blacken thy face, for that thou makest a lying presence of love, whereas thou art but a child and hast no concern but to eat and drink and sleep!' This is the interpretation of her signs, and may God the Most High deliver thee from her!" When I heard my cousin's words, I beat my breast with my hand and cried out, "By Allah, this is the truth, for I slept and lovers sleep not! Indeed, I have sinned against myself, for nought could have done me more hurt than eating and sleeping. What shall I do!" Then I wept sore and said to her, "Have compassion on me and tell me what to do, so may God have compassion on thee: else I shall die." Now my cousin loved me very dearly; so she replied, "On my head and eyes. But, O my cousin, as I have told thee often, could I go in and out at will, I would very soon bring you together and cover you both with my skirt: nor would I do this but hoping to win thy favour. God willing, I will do my utmost endeavour to bring about your union; but hearken thou to me and do as I bid thee. Go to the garden at nightfall and sit down in the same place and look thou eat not, for eating induces sleep; and beware of sleeping, for she will not come to thee, till a fourth part of the night be passed. And may God save thee from her mischief!" When I heard this, I rejoiced and besought God to hasten the night. As soon as it was dark, I rose to go, and my cousin said to me, "If thou foregather with her, repeat to her the verse I taught thee, at the time of leave-taking." "On my head and eyes," replied I, and going out, repaired to the garden, where I found all as on the previous night, with meat and drink spread ready, and dessert and flowers and so forth. I went up into the pavilion and smelt the odour of the viands and my soul lusted after them; but I forbore awhile, till at last I could no longer restrain my appetite. So I went up to the table, and raising the cover, found a dish of fowls, surrounded by four smaller dishes, containing various meats. I ate a mouthful of each dish and a piece of meat and as much as I would of the sweetmeat: then I tasted a dish of rice dressed with honey and saffron and liking it, supped of it by the spoonful, till I was satisfied and my belly was full. With this, my eyelids became heavy; so I took a cushion and put it under my head, saying, "Surely I can recline upon it, without going to sleep." Then I closed my eyes and slept, nor did I wake till the sun had risen, when I found myself lying on the bare marble, with a die of bone, a play-stick,[FN#130] a green date-stone[FN#131] and a carob-bean on my stomach. There was no furniture nor aught else in the place, and it was as if there had been nothing there yesterday. So I rose and shaking all these things off me, went out in a rage, and going home, found my cousin sighing and repeating the following verses:

Wasted body and heart a-bleeding for despair And tears that down
     my cheeks stream on and on for e'er,
And a beloved one persistent in disdain; Yet all a fair one does
     must needs be right and fair.
O cousin mine, thou'st filled my heart with longing pain And
     wounded are mine eyes with tears that never spare.

I chid her and reviled her, at which she wept; then wiping away her tears, she came up to me and kissed me and pressed me to her bosom, whilst I held back from her and blamed myself. Then she said to me, "O my cousin, meseems thou didst sleep again last night?" "Yes," replied I; "and when I awoke, I found on my stomach a die of bone, a play-stick, a green date-stone and a carob-bean, and I know not why she did this." Then I wept and said to her, "Expound to me her meaning in this and tell me what I shall do and help me in this my strait." "On my head and eyes," answered she. "Know then that, by the figure of the die and the play-stick, she says to thee, 'Thy body is present, but thy heart absent. Love is not thus: so do not reckon thyself among lovers.' As for the date-stone, it is as if she said to thee, 'If thou wert in love, thy heart would be on fire with passion and thou wouldst not taste the delight of sleep; for the sweet of love is like a green date and kindles a fire in the entrails.' As for the carob-bean, it signifies, 'The lover's heart is wearied; so be thou patient under our separation, even as Job was patient.'" When I heard this, fires raged in my entrails and grief redoubled upon my heart and I cried out, saying, "God ordained sleep to me, of my ill-fortune!" Then I said to her, "O my cousin, I conjure thee by my life, contrive me some device whereby I may win to her!" She wept and answered, "O Aziz, O my cousin, verily my heart is full of melancholy thought and I cannot speak: but go thou again to-night to the same place and look that thou sleep not, and thou shalt surely attain thy desire. This is my counsel and peace be on thee." "God willing," said I, "I will not sleep, but will do as thou biddest me." Then she rose and set food before me, saying, "Eat now what may suffice thee, that thy heart may be free." So I ate my fill, and when the night came, my cousin rose and bringing me a sumptuous suit of clothes, clad me therein. Then she made me promise to repeat the verse aforesaid to my mistress and bade me beware of sleeping. So I left her and repairing to the garden, went up into the pavilion, where I occupied myself with gazing on the garden, holding my eyes open with my fingers and wagging my head from side to side, as the night darkened on me. Presently I grew hungry with watching, and the smell of the meats, being wafted towards me, increased my hunger: so I went up to the table and taking off the cover, ate a piece of meat and a mouthful of every dish; after which I turned to the vessel of wine, saying in myself, "I will drink one cup." So I drank one cup and a second and a third, till I had drunk full half a score, when the air smote me and I fell to the earth like a dead man. I lay thus till day, when I awoke and found myself without the garden, with a large sharp knife and an iron dirhem[FN#132] on my stomach. I arose trembling and taking the knife and the dirhem, went home where I found my cousin saying, "Verily, I am in this house wretched and sorrowful, having no helper but weeping." When I entered, I fell down at full length and fainted, throwing the knife and the dirhem from my hand. As soon as I came to myself, I told her what had passed and said, "Indeed, I shall never enjoy my desire." The sight of my tears and my passion redoubled her distress on my account, and she said, "Verily, I can no more. I warned thee against sleeping; but thou wouldst not listen to my counsel, and my words profited thee nothing." "By Allah," cried I, "I conjure thee to explain to me the meaning of the knife and the dirhem." "By the dirhem," replied she, "she alludes to her right eye, and it is as if she said to thee, 'I swear, by the Lord of all creatures and by my right eye, that, if thou come here again and sleep, I will slay thee with this knife!' And indeed, O my cousin, I fear for thee from her malice; my heart is full of anguish for thee and I cannot speak. Nevertheless, if thou canst be sure of thyself not to sleep, return to her and thou shalt attain thy desire; but if thou sleep, according to thy wont, she will surely slay thee." "O my cousin," said I, "what shall I do? I conjure thee, by Allah, to help me in this my affliction!" "On my head and eyes," replied she. "If thou wilt hearken to me and do as I say, thou shalt have thy will." Quoth I, "I will indeed hearken to thee and do thy bidding." And she said, "When it is time for thee to go, I will tell thee." Then she pressed me to her bosom and laying me on the bed, rubbed my feet, till drowsiness overcame me and I was drowned in sleep; when she took a fan and seating herself at my head, ceased not to fan my face till the end of the day. Then she awoke me, and I found her sitting at my head weeping, with the fan in her hand and her clothes wet with tears. When she saw that I was awake, she wiped away her tears and fetching food, set it before me. I refused it, but she said to me, "Didst thou not promise to do my bidding? Eat." So I ate and did not cross her, and she proceeded to put the food into my mouth and I to eat, till I was full. Then she made me drink sherbet of jujube-fruit and sugar and washed my hands and dried them with a napkin; after which she sprinkled me with rose-water, and I sat with her awhile, restored to health and spirits. When the night had closed in, she dressed me and said to me, "O my cousin, watch all night and sleep not; for she will not come to thee this time till the last of the night, and God willing, thou shalt foregather with her this night: but do not forget my charge." Then she wept, and my heart was sore for her by reason of her much weeping, and I said to her, "What is the charge thou gavest me?" "When thou art about to take leave of her," replied she, "repeat to her the verse I taught thee." So I left her, full of gladness, and repairing to the garden, entered the pavilion, where I sat down satiated with food, and watched till a fourth part of the night was past. The night was tedious to me as it were a year: but I remained awake, till it was three quarters spent and the cocks cried out and I became sore an hungred for long watching. So I went up to the table and ate my fill, whereupon my head grew heavy and I was on the point of falling asleep, when I espied a light making towards me from afar. So I sprang up and washed my hands and mouth and roused myself; and before long, up came the lady, accompanied by ten damsels, in whose midst she shone, like the full moon among the stars. She was clad in a dress of green satin, embroidered with red gold, and she was as says the poet:

She lords it over her lovers in garments all of green, With open
     vest and collars and flowing hair beseen.
"What is thy name?" I asked her, and she replied, "I'm she Who
     burns the hearts of lovers on coals of love and teen."
I made my moan unto her of passion and desire; "Upon a rock," she
     answered, "thy plaints are wasted clean."
"Even if thy heart," I told her, "be rock in very deed, Yet hath
     God made fair water well from the rock, I ween."

When she saw me, she laughed and said, "How is it that thou art awake and that sleep hath not overcome thee. Now that thou hast passed the night without sleep, I know that thou art in love, for it is the mark of a lover to watch the night for stress of longing." Then she signed to her women and they went away, whereupon she came up to me and strained me to her bosom and kissed me and sucked my upper lip, whilst I kissed her and sucked her lower lip. I put my hand to her waist and pressed it and we came to the ground at the same moment. Then she undid her trousers and they fell down to her anklets and we fell to clipping and toying and cricketing and speaking softly and biting and intertwining of legs and going round about the House and the corners thereof,[FN#133] till her senses failed her for delight and she swooned away. And indeed that night was heart-gladdening and eye-refreshing, even as says the poet:

The sweetest of all the nights that ever the world can show! The
     cup in it stinted never from hand to hand to go.
Therein I did dissever mine eyes from sleep and made The
     ear-drop[FN#134] and the anklet[FN#135] foregather evermo'.

We lay together till the morning, when I would have gone away, but she stopped me, saying, "Stay, till I tell thee somewhat and give thee a charge." So I waited, whilst she undid a handkerchief and taking out this piece of linen, spread it out before me. I saw worked on it these two figures of gazelles and admired it exceedingly; and she said to me, "Keep this carefully, for it is my sister's work." "What is thy sister's name?" asked I, and she answered, "Nour el Huda." Then I took the piece of linen and went away, joyful, after we had agreed that I should visit her every night in the garden; but in my joy I forgot to repeat to her the verse my cousin had taught me. When I reached home, I found Azizeh lying down; but, as soon as she saw me, she rose, with the tears running from her eyes, and coming up to me, kissed me on the breast and said, "Didst thou repeat the verse to her, as I enjoined thee?" "I forgot it," answered I; "and here is what made me forget it." And I threw the piece of linen down before her. She rose and sat down again, but was unable to contain herself and her eyes ran over with tears, whilst she repeated the following verses:

O thou that seekest severance, forbear; Let not the fair delude
     thee with their sleight.
Softly, for fortune's nature is deceit And parting is the end of
     love-delight.

Then she said, "O my cousin, give me this piece of linen." So I gave it to her, and she took it and unfolding it, saw what was therein. When the time came for my going to my mistress, she said to me, "Go and peace be with thee; and when thou art about to leave her, repeat to her the verse I taught thee and which thou forgottest." Quoth I, "Repeat it to me." So she repeated it. Then I went to the garden and entered the pavilion, where I found the lady awaiting me. When she saw me, she rose and kissed me and made me sit in her lap; and we ate and drank and did our desire as on the previous night. In the morning, I repeated to her my cousin's verse:

Tell me, O lovers, for God's sake I do entreat of you, When love
     is sore upon a maid, alack! what shall she do?

When she heard this, her eyes filled with tears and she answered with the following verse:

Against her passion she must strive and hide her case from view
     And humble and submissive be, whatever may ensue.

This I committed to memory and returned home, rejoiced at having done my cousin's errand. When I entered the house, I found Azizeh lying on the bed and my mother at her head, weeping over her condition. When the latter saw me, she said to me, "Out on thee for a cousin! How couldst thou leave the daughter of thine uncle in ill case and not ask what ailed her?" Azizeh, seeing me, raised her head and sat up and said, "O Aziz, didst thou repeat the verse to her?" "Yes," replied I; "and she wept and recited, in answer, another verse, which I remember." "Tell it me," said Azizeh. I did so; and she wept and repeated the following verses:

How shall she temper her desire, It doth her fire undo, And still
     with each recurring day her heart is cleft in two.
Indeed, she strives for patience fair, but findeth nought in her
     Except a heart too weak to bear the love that makes her rue.

"When thou goest to thy mistress as of wont," added she, "repeat to her these verses also." "I hear and obey," answered I and betook myself, at the wonted time, to the garden, where there passed between my mistress and myself what the tongue fails to describe. As I was about to leave her, I repeated to her my cousin's verses; whereupon the tears streamed from her eyes and she replied:

If she her secret cannot hide and lack of patience due, I see no help for her but death, of all things old and new.

Then I returned home, where I found Azizeh fallen of a swoon and my mother sitting at her head. When she heard my voice, she opened her eyes and said, "O Aziz, didst thou repeat the verses to her?" "Yes," answered I; "and she replied with this verse." And I repeated it; whereupon my cousin swooned again, and when she came to herself, she recited the following verses:

"I hearken, I obey, I die; yet bear to one who slew My hopes of
     union and delight, my greeting and adieu.
Fair fall the happy of their joy, alack! and fair befall The
     wretched lover of the cup that's set her lips unto."

When it was night, I repaired, as of wont, to the garden, where I found my mistress awaiting me. We sat down and ate and drank, after which we did our need and slept till the morning; and as I was going away, I repeated to her Azizeh's verses. When she heard them, she gave a loud cry and was greatly moved and exclaimed, "Alas! Alas! She who said these words is dead!" Then she wept and said to me, "Out on thee! What kin is she, who spoke thus, to thee?" "She is the daughter of my father's brother," replied I. "Thou liest," rejoined she. "By Allah, were she thy cousin, thou wouldst have loved her even as she loved thee! It is thou who hast killed her, and may God in like manner kill thee! By Allah, hadst thou told me thou hadst a cousin, I would not have admitted thee to my favours!" Quoth I, "Indeed, she is my cousin, and it was she who interpreted to me thy signs and taught me how to come at thee and how I should deal with thee; and but for her, I had never won to thee." "Did she then know of us?" asked she. "Yes," answered I; and she exclaimed, "God give thee sorrow of thy youth, even as thou hast wasted hers!" Then she said to me, "Go and see after her." So I went away, troubled at heart, and when I reached our street, I heard a sound of wailing, and asking about it, was answered, "We found Azizeh dead behind the door." I entered the house, and when my mother saw me, she said to me, "Her death lies at thy door, and may God not acquit thee of her blood! Out on thee for a cousin!" Then came my father, and we laid her out and did her the last offices and buried her. Moreover, we let make recitations of the Koran over her tomb and abode there three days, after which we returned home, grieving for her. When I entered the house, my mother came to me and said, "I would fain know what thou didst to her, to break her heart, for, O my son, I questioned her many times of the cause of her malady, but she would tell me nothing. So, God on thee, tell me what thou didst to her, that she died." Quoth I, "I did nothing." "May God avenge her on thee!" rejoined my mother. "She told me nothing, but kept her secret till she died, of her affection for thee. But when she died, I was with her, and she opened her eyes and said to me, 'O wife of my uncle, may God hold thy son guiltless of my blood and punish him not for that he hath done with me! And now He transporteth me from this transitory house of the world to the other and eternal dwelling-place.' 'O my daughter,' said I, 'God preserve thee and preserve thy youth!' And I questioned her of the cause of her illness; but she made me no answer. Then she smiled and said, 'O wife of my uncle, when my cousin is about to repair to the place whither he goes every day, bid him repeat these two words at his going away: "Faith is fair and perfidy foul." For this is of my tenderness over him, that I am solicitous for him in my lifetime and after my death.' Then she gave me somewhat for thee and made me swear that I would not give it to thee, till I should see thee weeping for her and lamenting her death. The thing is with me, and when I see thee as I have said, I will give it to thee." "Show it me," quoth I: but she would not. Then I gave myself up to my pleasures and thought no more of my cousin's death; for I was light-witted and would fain have been with my beloved day and night. So hardly had the night fallen, when I betook myself to the garden, where I found the lady sitting on coals of fire, for much waiting. As soon as she saw me, she ran to me and throwing her arms about my neck, enquired of my cousin. "She is dead," replied I; "and we have caused litanies and recitations of the Koran to be performed for her; and it is now four nights since she died." When she heard this, she shrieked aloud and wept, saying, "Did I not tell thee that thou hadst slain her? Hadst thou let me know of her before her death, I would have requited her the kindness she did me, in that she served me and brought thee to me; for but for her, we had never come together; and I fear lest some calamity befall thee by reason of thy sin against her." Quoth I, "She acquitted me before she died." And I repeated to her what my mother had told me. "God on thee," rejoined she, "when thou returnest to thy mother, learn what it is she hath for thee." Quoth I, "My mother also said to me, 'Before thy cousin died, she laid a charge upon me, saying, "When thy son is about to go whither of wont, teach him these two words, 'Faith is fair and perfidy foul.'" When my mistress heard this, she exclaimed, "The mercy of God the Most High be upon her! Indeed, she hath delivered thee from me, for I had it in mind to do thee a mischief, but now I will not hurt thee nor trouble thee." I wondered at this and said to her, "What then didst thou purpose to do with me, and we lovers?" Quoth she, "Thou art infatuated with me; for thou art young and witless; thy heart is free from guile and thou knowest not our perfidy and malice. Were she yet alive, she would protect thee, for she is the cause of thy preservation and hath delivered thee from destruction. And now I charge thee that thou speak not with neither accost any of our sex, young or old, for thou art young and simple and knowest not the wiles of women and their malice, and she who explained the signs to thee is dead. And indeed I fear for thee, lest thou fall into some calamity and find none to deliver thee from it, now that thy cousin is dead. Alas, the pity of her! Would God I had known her before her death, that I might have visited her and requited her the fair service she did me! The mercy of the Most High be upon her, for she kept her secret and revealed not what she suffered, and but for her, thou hadst never won to me! But there is one thing I desire of thee." "What is it?" said I. "It is," answered she, "that thou bring me to her grave, that I may visit her in the tomb wherein she is and write some verses thereon." "To-morrow," replied I, "if it be the will of God." Then I lay with her that night, and she ceased not, from time to time, to say, "Would thou hadst told me of thy cousin, before her death!" And I said to her, "What is the meaning of the two words she taught me?" But she made me no answer. As soon as it was day, she rose and taking a purse of dinars, said to me, "Come, show me her tomb, that I may visit it and grave some verses thereon and build a dome over it and commend her to the mercy of God and bestow these dinars in alms for her soul." "I hear and obey," replied I and went on before her, whilst she followed me, giving alms by the way and saying to all to whom she gave, "This is an alms for the soul of Azizeh, who kept her counsel, till she drank the cup of death, and discovered not the secret of her passion." And she stinted not thus to give alms and say, "For Azizeh's soul," till the purse was empty and we came to the burial-place. When she saw the tomb, she wept and threw herself upon it; then pulling out a graver of steel and a light mallet, she graved the following verses, in fine characters, upon the stone at the head of the tomb:

I passed by a ruined tomb, in the midst of a garden-way, Upon
     whose letterless stone seven blood-red anemones lay.
"Who sleeps in this unmarked grave?" I said; and the earth, "Bend
     low; For a lover lies here and waits for the Resurrection
     Day."
"God help thee, O victim of love," I cried, "and bring thee to
     dwell In the highest of all the heavens of Paradise, I pray!
How wretched are lovers all, even in the sepulchre, When their
     very graves are covered with ruin and decay!
Lo, if I might, I would plant thee a garden round about And with
     my streaming tears the thirst of its flowers allay!"

Then she returned to the garden, weeping, and I with her, and she said to me, "By Allah, thou shalt never leave me!" "I hear and obey," answered I. Then I devoted myself wholly to her and paid her frequent visits, and she was good and generous to me. As often as I passed the night with her, she would make much of me and ask me of the two words my cousin told my mother, and I would repeat them to her.

I abode thus a whole year, till, what with eating and drinking and dalliance and wearing change of rich raiment, I waxed stout and fat, so that I lost all thought of sorrow and anxiety and forgot my cousin Azizeh. At the end of this time, I went one day to the bath, where I refreshed myself and put on a rich suit of clothes, scented with various perfumes; then, coming out I drank a cup of wine and smelt the fragrance of my new clothes, whereupon my breast dilated, for I knew not the perfidy of fortune nor the calamities of events. When the hour of evening-prayer came, I thought to repair to my mistress; but being heated with wine, I knew not where I went, so that, on the way, my drunkenness turned me into a by-street called En Nekib, where, as I was going along, I met an old woman with a lighted flambeau in one hand and a folded letter in the other; and she was weeping and repeating the following verses:

O welcome, bearer of glad news, thrice welcome to my sight; How
     sweet and solaceful to me thy tidings of delight!
Thou that the loved one's greeting bringst unto my longing soul,
     God's peace, what while the zephyr blows, dwell with thee
     day and night!

When she saw me, she said to me, "O my son, canst thou read?" And I, of my officiousness, answered, "Yes, O old aunt." "Then, take this letter," rejoined she, "and read it to me." So I took the letter, and unfolding it, read it to her. Now it contained the greetings of an absent man to his friends; and when she heard its purport, she rejoiced and was glad and called down blessings on me, saying, "May God dispel thine anxiety, as thou hast dispelled mine!" Then she took the letter and walked on. Meanwhile, I was seized with a pressing need and squatted down on my heels to make water. When I had finished, I stood up and cleansed myself with pebbles, then shaking down my clothes, was about to go my way, when the old woman came up to me again and bending down to kiss my hand, said, "O my lord, God give thee joy of thy youth! I entreat thee to go with me to yonder door, for I told them what thou readest to me of the letter, and they believe me not: so come with me two steps and read them the letter from behind the door and accept my devout prayers." "What is the history of this letter?" asked I; and she answered, "O my son, it is from my son, who hath been absent from us these ten years. He set out with merchandise and tarried long in foreign parts, till we lost hope of him, supposing him to be dead. Now comes this letter from him, and he has a sister, who weeps for him day and night; so I said to her, 'He is in good health and case.' But she will not believe and says, 'Thou must needs bring me one who will read the letter in my presence, that my heart may be set at rest and my mind eased.' Thou knowest, O my son, that those who love are prone to imagine evil: so do me the favour to go with me and read the letter, standing without the door, whilst I call his sister to listen behind the curtain, so shalt thou dispel our anxiety and fulfil our need. Quoth the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve), 'He who eases an afflicted one of one of the troubles of this world, God will ease him of a hundred troubles;' and according to another tradition, 'Whoso relieves his brother of one of the troubles of this world, God will relieve him of two-and-seventy troubles of the Day of Resurrection.' And I have betaken myself to thee; so do not disappoint me." "I hear and obey," replied I. "Do thou go before me." So she went on and I followed her a little way, till she came to the gate of a large handsome house, whose door was plated with copper. I stood without the door, whilst the old woman cried out in Persian, and before I could think, a damsel ran up, with a nimble and agile step. She had tucked up her trousers to her knees, so that I saw a pair of legs that confounded mind and eye, for they were like columns of alabaster, adorned with anklets of gold, set with jewels. As says the poet, describing her:

O thou who barest thy leg for lovers to look upon, That by the
     sight of the leg the rest they may infer,
Who passest the cup around midst thy gallants, brisk and free,
     Nought seduces the folk but the cup[FN#136] and the
     cup-bearer.[FN#137]

She had seemingly been engaged in work of some kind, for she had tucked the end of her shift within the ribbon of her trousers and thrown the skirt of her robe over her arm. Her sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, so that I could see her white wrists and forearms, on which were two pairs of bracelets, with clasps of great pearls and round her neck was a collar of precious stones. Her ears were adorned with pendants of pearls and on her head she wore a kerchief of brocade, embroidered with jewels of price. When I saw her I was confounded at her beauty, for she was like the shining sun. Then she said, with clear and dulcet speech, never heard I sweeter, "O my mother, is this he who cometh to read the letter?" "It is," replied the old woman; and she put out her hand to me with the letter. Now she was standing about half a rod within the door; so I stretched out my hand and put my head and shoulders within the door, thinking to draw near her and read the letter, when behold, before I knew what she would be at, the old woman thrust her head into my back and pushed me forward, with the letter in my hand, so that before I could think, I found myself in the vestibule. Then she entered, swiftlier than the blinding lightning, and had but to shut the door. When the damsel saw me in the vestibule, she came up to me and straining me to her bosom, threw me to the floor, then knelt upon my breast and kneaded my belly with her hands, till I lost my senses. Then she took me by the hand and led me unable to resist, for the violence of her pressure, through seven vestibules, whilst the old woman went before us with the lighted candle, till we came to a great saloon, with four daises, in which a horseman might play at ball. Here she released me, saying, "Open thine eyes." So I opened them, still giddy for the excess of her pressing and pummelling, and saw that the whole place was built of the finest alabaster and hung and carpeted with stuffs of silk and brocade, with cushions and divans of the same. Therein also were two benches of brass and a couch of red gold set with pearls and jewels, befitting none save kings like unto thee. Then said she, "O Aziz, which wouldst thou rather, life or death?" "Life," answered I; and she said, "If life be liefer to thee, thou must marry me." Quoth I, "It were odious to me to marry the like of thee." "If thou marry me," rejoined she, "thou wilt at least be safe from the daughter of Delileh the crafty." "And who is she?" asked I. She laughed and replied, "How comes it that thou knowest her not, seeing that to-day thou hast companied with her a year and four months, may God the Most High destroy her and afflict her with one worse than herself! By Allah, there lives not a more perfidious than she! How many hath she not slain before thee and what deeds hath she not done! Nor can I understand how thou hast been so long in her company, yet hath she not killed thee nor done thee any hurt." When I heard this, I marvelled exceedingly and said, "Who made thee to know of her, O my lady?" "I know of her," said she, "as the age knows of its calamities: but now I would fain have thee tell me all that has passed between you, that I may know the cause of thy deliverance from her." So I told her all that had happened, including the story of my cousin Azizeh. When she heard of the latter's death, her eyes ran over with tears and she smote hand upon hand and cried out, "God have mercy on her, for she lost her youth in His service, and may He replace her to thee! By Allah, O Aziz, it was she who was the cause of thy preservation from the daughter of Delileh and but for her, thou hadst been lost! Now she is dead and I fear for thee from the other's perfidy and mischief; but my heart is full and I cannot speak." "By Allah," quoth I, "all this happened, even as thou sayest!" And she shook her head and said, "There lives not this day the like of Azizeh." "And when she was dying," continued I, "she bade me repeat to my mistress these two words, 'Faith is fair and perfidy foul.'" When she heard this, she exclaimed, "By Allah, O Aziz, it was this that saved thee from dying by her hand: and now my heart is at ease for thee from her for she will never slay thee and thy cousin preserved thee, both in her lifetime and after her death. By Allah, I have desired thee this many a day, but could not get at thee till now and except by a trick, which succeeded with thee for thou art inexperienced and knowest not the malice of women nor the wiles of old women." "No, by Allah!" rejoined I. Then said she to me, "Be of good cheer and take comfort; the dead is in the mercy of God and the living shall be fairly entreated. Thou art a handsome youth, and I do not desire thee but according to the ordinance of God and of His prophet, on whom be peace and salvation! Whatever thou desirest of money and stuff, thou shalt have without stint, and I will not impose any toil on thee, for there is with me always bread baked and water in the pitcher. All I ask of thee is that thou do with me even as the cock does." "And what is it the cock does?" asked I. At this she laughed and clapped her hands and fell over on her back for excess of laughter: then she sat up and said, "O light of my eyes, dost thou not know what the cock's business is?" "No, by Allah!" replied I; and she said, "The cock's business is to eat and drink and tread." I was abashed at her words and said, "Is that the cock's business?" "Yes," answered she; "and all I ask of thee now is to gird thy loins and strengthen thy resolution and swive thy best." Then she clapped her hands and cried out, saying, "O my mother, bring hither those who are with thee." Whereupon in came the old woman, carrying a veil of silk and accompanied by four lawful witnesses, who saluted me and sat down. Then she lighted four candles, whilst the young lady covered herself with the veil and deputed one of the witnesses to execute the contract on her behalf. So they drew up the marriage contract and she acknowledged to have received the whole of her dowry, both precedent and contingent, and to be indebted to me in the sum of ten thousand dirhems. Then he gave the witnesses their fee and they withdrew whence they came; whereupon she put off her clothes and abode in a shift of fine silk, laced with gold, after which she took me by the hand and carried me up to the couch, saying, "There is no blame in what is lawful." She lay down on her back and drawing me on to her breast, heaved a sigh and followed it up with an amorous gesture. Then she pulled up the shift above her breasts, and when I saw her thus, I could not choose but thrust into her, after I had sucked her lips, whilst she moaned and made a show of bashfulness and wept without tears. And indeed the case reminded me of the saying of the poet:

When I drew up her shift and discovered the terrace-roof of her
     kaze, I found it as strait as my humour or eke my worldly
     ways.
So I drove it incontinent in, halfway; and she heaved a sigh.
     "For what dost thou sigh?" quoth I. "For the rest of it,
     sure," she says.

Then said she, "O my beloved, to it and do thy best, for I am thine handmaid. My life on thee, give it me, all of it, that I may take it in my hand and thrust it into my entrails!" And she ceased not to excite me with sobs and sighs and amorous gestures, in the intervals of kissing and clipping, till we attained the supreme felicity and the term of our desires. We lay together till the morning, when I would have gone out; but she came up to me, laughing, and said, "Thinkest thou that going out of the bath is the same as going in?[FN#138] Verily, I believe thou deemest me to be the like of the daughter of Delileh. Beware of such a thought, for thou art my husband by contract and according to law. If thou be drunken, return to thy right mind and know that this house is opened but one day in every year. Go down and look at the great door." So I went down and found the door locked and nailed up and returned and told her so. "Know, O Aziz," said she, "that we have in this house flour and grain and fruits and pomegranates and sugar and meat and sheep and fowls and so forth, enough to serve us for many years; and henceforth, the door will not be opened till after the lapse of a whole year, nor shalt thou find thyself without till then." Quoth I, "There is no power and no virtue but in God!" "And what can this irk thee," rejoined she, "seeing thou knowest the cock's craft, of which I told thee?" Then she laughed and I laughed too, and I conformed to what she said and abode with her, plying the cock's craft, eating and drinking and cricketing, twelve whole months, during which time she conceived by me and brought me a son. At the end of the year, I heard the door opened and men came in with manchets and flour and sugar. Thereupon, I would have gone out, but my wife said, "Wait till nightfall and go out as thou camest in." So I waited till the hour of evening-prayer, and was about to go forth in fear and trembling, when she stopped me, saying, "By Allah, I will not let thee go, except thou swear to return this night before the closing of the door." I agreed to this, and she made me take a solemn oath by sword and Koran and the oath of divorce to boot that I would return to her. Then I left her and going straight to the garden, found the door open as usual; whereat I was angry and said to myself, "I have been absent a whole year and come here at unawares and find the place open as of wont! I wonder, is the damsel still in her old case? Algates I must enter and see, before I go to my mother, more by token that it is now nightfall." So I entered and making for the pavilion, found the daughter of Delileh sitting there with her head on her knee and her hand to her cheek. Her colour was changed and her eyes sunken; but when she saw me, she exclaimed, "Praised be God for thy safety!" and would have risen, but fell down for joy. I was abashed before her and hung my head; but presently went up to her, and kissing her, said, "How knewest thou that I should come to thee to-night?" "I knew it not," replied she. "By Allah, this whole year past I have not tasted sleep, but have watched every night, expecting thee, from the day thou wentest out from me and I gave thee the new suit of clothes, and thou didst promise me to go to the bath and come back! So I abode awaiting thee that night and a second and a third; but thou camest not till now, and I ever expecting thy coming, for this is the way of lovers. And now I would have thee tell me what has been the cause of thine absence this year long." So I told her all that had happened: and when she knew that I was married, her colour paled. "I have come to thee to-night," added I; "but I must leave thee before day." Quoth she, "Doth it not suffice her to have tricked thee into marrying her and kept thee prisoner with her a whole year, but she must make thee take the oath of divorce to return to her before morning and not allow thee to divert thyself with thy mother or me nor suffer thee to pass one night with either of us, away from her? How, then, must it be with one from whom thou hast been absent a whole year, and I knew thee before she did? But may God have compassion on thy cousin Azizeh, for there befell her what never befell any and she endured what never any endured else and died, oppressed and rejected of thee; yet was it she protected thee against me. Indeed, I thought thou didst love me, so let thee take thine own way; else had I not let thee go safe and sound, when I had it in my power to hold thee in duresse and destroy thee." Then she wept and waxed wroth and shuddered in my face and looked at me with angry eyes. When I saw this, I was terrified at her and trembled in every nerve, for she was like a dreadful ghoul and I like a bean over the fire. Then said she, "Thou art of no use to me, now thou art married and hast a child, nor art thou any longer fit for my company. I care only for bachelors and not for married men; for they profit us nothing. Thou hast sold me for yonder stinking nosegay; but by Allah, I will make the baggage's heart ache for thee, for thou shalt not live either for me or for her!" Then she gave a loud cry, and ere I could think, up came ten damsels and threw me on the ground; whereupon she rose and taking a knife, said, "I will slaughter thee like a he-goat; and that will be less than thy desert, for thy behaviour to me and to thy cousin before me." When I found myself at the mercy of her women, with my cheeks stained with dust, and saw her sharpen the knife, I made sure of death and cried out to her for mercy. But she only redoubled in inhumanity and ordered the maids to bind my hands behind me, which they did, and throwing me on my back, sat down on my stomach and held my head. Then two of them sat on my shins, whilst other two held my hands, and she bade a third pair beat me. So they beat me till I lost my senses and my voice failed. When I revived, I said to myself, "It were easier and better for me to have my throat cut than to be beaten thus!" And I remembered how my cousin used to say to me, "God keep thee from her mischief!" and cried out and wept, till my voice failed and I remained without breath or motion. Then she sharpened the knife and said to the girls, "Uncover him." With this God inspired me to repeat to her the two words my cousin had bequeathed me, and I said, "O my lady, dost thou not know that faith is fair and perfidy foul?" When she heard this, she cried out and said, "God pity thee, Azizeh, and give thee Paradise in exchange for thy wasted youth! Verily, she served thee in her lifetime and after her death, and now she has saved thee alive out of my hands with these two words. Nevertheless, I cannot leave thee thus, but I must e'en set my mark on thee, to spite yonder shameless baggage, who has kept thee from me." Then she called out to the damsels and bade them bind my feet with cords and sit on me. They did her bidding, whilst I lay insensible, and she fetched a pan of copper and setting it on a brazier, poured into it oil of sesame, in which she fried cheese.[FN#139] Then she came up to me and unfastening my trousers, tied a cord round my cullions and giving it to two of her women, bade them pull at it. They did so, and I swooned away and was for excess of pain in a world other than this. Then she came with a steel scalpel and cut off my yard, so that I remained like a woman: after which she seared the wound with the boiling oil and rubbed it with a powder, and I the while unconscious. When I came to myself, the blood had ceased to flow; so she bade the damsels unbind me and gave me a cup of wine to drink. Then said she to me, "Go now to her whom thou hast married and who grudged me a single night, and the mercy of God be on thy cousin Azizeh, who discovered not her secret! Indeed she was the cause of thy preservation, for hadst thou not repeated those words to me, I had surely slain thee. Rise and go to whom thou wilt, for thou hadst nothing of mine, save what I have cut off, and now I have no part in thee, nor have I any further care or occasion for thee: so begone about thy business and bless thy cousin's memory!" With that, she gave me a push with her foot, and I rose, hardly able to walk, and went little by little, till I came to the door of my wife's house I found it open, so I threw myself within it and fell down in a swoon; whereupon my wife came out and lifting me up, carried me into the saloon and found that I was like unto a woman. Then I fell into a deep sleep; but when I awoke, I found myself thrown down at the gate of the garden. I rose, groaning for pain and misery, and made my way to my mother's house, where I found her weeping for me and saying, "O my son, would I knew where thou art!" So I drew near and threw myself upon her, and when she saw me, she knew that I was ill, for my face was at once pale and livid. Then I called to mind my cousin and all the kind offices she had been wont to do me and knew that she had indeed loved me; so I wept for her and my mother wept also. Presently, she said to me, "O my son, thy father is dead." At this my anguish redoubled, and I wept till I lost my senses. When I came to myself, I looked at the place where Azizeh had been used to sit and wept anew, till I all but fainted for excess of grief; and I ceased not to weep and lament thus till midnight, when my mother said to me, "Thy father has been dead these ten days." "I shall never think of any one but my cousin Azizeh," answered I; "and indeed I deserve all that hath befallen me, in that I abandoned her who loved me so dear." "What hath befallen thee?" asked my mother. So I told her all that had happened, and she wept awhile, then rose and set meat and drink before me. I ate a little and drank, after which I repeated my story to her, and she exclaimed, "Praised be God that she did but this to thee and forbore to slay thee!" Then she tended me and medicined me till I regained my health: and when my recovery was complete, she said to me, "O my son, I will now bring out to thee that which thy cousin committed to me in trust for thee; for it is thine. She made me swear not to give it thee, till I should see thee recalling her to mind and weeping over her and thine affections severed from other than her; and now I see these conditions fulfilled in thee." So she arose and opening a chest, took out the piece of linen, with the figures of gazelles worked thereon, which I had given Azizeh; and I opened it and found written therein the following verses:

Who moved thee, fairest one, to use this rigour of disdain And
     slay, with stress of love, the souls that sigh for thee in
     vain?
If thou recall me not to mind beyond our parting-day, God knows
     the thought of thee with me for ever shall remain!
Thou smitest me with cruel words, that yet are sweet to me: Wilt
     thou one day, though but in dreams, to look upon me deign?
I had not thought the ways of Love were languishment and woe And
     stress of soul until, alas! to love thee I was fain.
I knew not weariness till I the captive of thine eyes Became and
     all my soul was bound in passion's fatal chain.
Even my foes have ruth on me and pity my distress: But thou, O
     heart of steel, wilt ne'er have mercy on my pain.
By God, although I die, I'll ne'er forget thee, O my hope, Nor
     comfort take, though life itself for love should waste and
     wane!

When I read these verses, I wept sore and buffeted my face; then I unfolded the scroll, and there fell from it another. I opened it and found these words written therein: "Know, O my cousin, that I acquit thee of my blood and I beseech God to make accord between thee and her whom thou lovest: but if aught befall thee through the daughter of Delileh the crafty, return thou not to her neither resort to any other woman and bear thine affliction patiently, for were not the ordained term of thy life a long one, thou hadst perished long ago: but praised be God, who hath appointed my last day before thine! My peace be upon thee; preserve the cloth with the gazelles figured thereon and let it not leave thee, for it used to keep me company, whenas thou wert absent from me; but I conjure thee, by Allah, if thou chance to fall in with her who wrought these gazelles and it be in thy power to foregather with her, hold aloof from her and do not let her approach thee nor marry her; and if thou happen not on her and find no way to her, look thou company not with any other of her sex. Know that she who wrought these gazelles is the daughter of the King of the Camphor Islands and every year she works a like cloth and despatches it to far countries, that her report and the beauty of her broidery, which none in the world can match, may be bruited abroad, As for thy beloved, the daughter of Delileh, this cloth came to her hand, and she used to ensnare folk with it, showing it to them and saying, 'I have a sister who wrought this.' But she lied in this saying, may God bring her to shame! This, then, is my parting counsel to thee, and I have not charged thee thus, but because I know that, after my death, the world will be straitened on thee and belike, by reason of this, thou wilt leave thy native land and wander in foreign countries, and hearing of her who wrought these figures, be minded to foregather with her. Then wilt thou remember me and it shall not avail thee nor wilt thou know my value till after my death."

When I had read the scroll and understood what was written therein, I fell again to weeping, and my mother wept because I did; and I ceased not to gaze upon it and weep till nightfall. I abode thus a whole year, at the end of which time the merchants, with whom I am in this caravan, prepared to set out from my native town, and my mother counselled me to equip myself and journey with them, so haply I might find forgetfulness and my sorrow cease from me, saying, "Take comfort and put away from thee this mourning and travel for a year or two or three, till the caravan returns, when peradventure thy breast may be dilated and thy heart lightened." She ceased not to persuade me thus, till I provided myself with merchandise and set out with the caravan. But all the time of my journey, my tears have never ceased flowing; and at every station where we halt, I open this piece of linen and look on these gazelles and call to mind my cousin Azizeh and weep for her as thou hast seen, for indeed she loved me very dearly and died, oppressed and rejected of me; I did her nought but ill and she did me nought but good. When these merchants return from their journey, I shall return with them, by which time I shall have been a whole year absent; yet is my sorrow greater than ever and my grief and affliction were but increased by my visit to the Islands of Camphor and the Castle of Crystal. The islands in question are seven in number and are ruled by a king, Shehriman by name, who hath a daughter called Dunya; and I was told that it was she who wrought these gazelles and that this thou seest was of her broidery. When I knew this, yearning redoubled on me and I became a prey to consuming languor and drowned in the sea of melancholy thought; and I wept over myself, for that I was become even as a woman, without manly gear like other men, and that there was no recourse for me. From the day of my departure from the Camphor Islands, I have been tearful-eyed and sorrowful-hearted, and I know not whether it will be given me to return to my native land and die by my mother or not, for I am weary of the world.'

When the young merchant had made an end of telling his story, he wept and groaned and complained and gazed upon the figures wrought on the piece of linen, whilst the tears streamed down his cheeks and he repeated the following verses:

'Needs must thy sorrow have an end,' quoth many an one 'and cease
     And I, Needs must your chiding end and let me be at peace.'
'After awhile,' say they; and I, 'Who will ensure me life, O
     fools, until the hands of grief their grip of me release?'

And also these:

God knows that, since my severance from thee, full sore I've
     wept, So sore that needs my eyes must run for very tears in
     debt!
'Have patience,' quoth my censurers, 'and thou shalt win them
     yet.' And I, 'O thou that blamest me, whence should I
     patience get?'

Then said he, 'This, O prince, is my story: hast thou ever heard a stranger one?' Taj el Mulouk marvelled greatly at the young merchant's tale and said to him, 'By Allah, thou hast suffered that which never befell any but thyself, but thou hast life appointed to thee, which thou must needs fulfil; and now I would fain have thee tell me how thou sawest the lady who wrought these gazelles.' 'O my lord,' answered Aziz, 'I got me access to her by a stratagem, and it was this. When I entered her city with the caravan, I went forth and wandered about the gardens [till I came to one walled in and] abounding in trees, whose keeper was a venerable old man of advanced age. I asked him to whom the garden belonged, and he replied, "To the lady Dunya, the king's daughter. We are now beneath her palace," added he; "and when she is minded to divert herself, she opens the private door and walks in the garden and breathes the fragrance of the flowers." So I said to him, "Favour me by allowing me to sit in the garden till she comes; haply I may be fortunate enough to catch a sight of her as she passes." "There can be no harm in that," answered he. So I gave him money and said to him, "Buy us something to eat." He took the money joyfully and opening the door, admitted me into the garden and carried me to a pleasant spot, where he bade me sit down and await his return. Then he brought me fruit and leaving me, returned after awhile with a roasted lamb, of which we ate till we had enough, my heart yearning the while for a sight of the princess. Presently, as we sat, the postern opened and the keeper said to me, "Rise and hide thyself." I did so; and behold a black eunuch put out his head through the wicket and said, "O elder, is there any one with thee?" "No," answered he; and the eunuch said, "Shut the garden gate." So the keeper shut the gate, and the lady Dunya came in by the private door. When I saw her, methought the moon had risen above the horizon and was shining; so I looked at her a long while and longed for her, as a man athirst longs for water. After a time she withdrew and shut the door; whereupon I left the garden and sought my lodging, knowing that I could not win to her and that I was no mate for her, more by token that I was become like unto a woman, having no manly gear, and she was a king's daughter and I but a merchant; so how could I have access to the like of her or to any other woman? Accordingly, when my companions made ready for departure, I too made ready and set out with them, and we journeyed till we arrived at this place, where we met with thee. This then is my story, and peace be on thee!'

When Taj el Mulouk heard the young merchant's account of the princess Dunya and her beauty, fires raged in his bosom and his heart and thought were occupied with love for her; passion and longing were sore upon him and he knew not what to do. Then he mounted his horse and taking Aziz with him, returned to his father's capital, where he assigned the merchant a house and supplied him with all that he needed in the way of meat and drink and clothing. Then he left him and returned to his palace, with the tears running down his cheeks, for report [whiles] stands in stead of sight and very knowledge. He abode thus till his father came in to him and finding him pale-faced, lean of body and tearful eyed, knew that some chagrin had betided him and said to him, 'O my son, acquaint me with thy case and tell me what hath befallen thee, that thy colour is changed and thy body wasted.' So he told him all that had passed and how he had heard from Aziz of the princess Dunya and had fallen in love with her on hearsay, without having set eyes on her. 'O my son,' said the King, 'she is the daughter of a king whose country is far distant from ours: so put away this thought from thee and go into thy mother's palace. There are five hundred damsels like moons, and whichsoever of them pleaseth thee, take her; or else we will seek thee in marriage some one of the kings' daughters, fairer than the lady Dunya.' 'O my father,' answered Taj el Mulouk, 'I desire none other, for she it is who wrought the gazelles that I saw, and I must have her; else I will flee into the deserts and waste places and slay myself for her sake.' Then said his father, 'O my son, have patience with me, till I send to her father and demand her hand in marriage, as I did with thy mother. It may be that God will bring thee to thy desire; and if her father will not consent, I will shake his kingdom under him with an army, whose van shall be upon him, whilst the rear is yet with me.' Then he sent for Aziz and said to him, 'O my son, dost thou know the way to the Camphor Islands?' 'Yes,' answered he; and the King said, 'It is my wish that thou accompany my Vizier thither.' 'I hear and obey, O King of the age,' replied Aziz; whereupon the King summoned his Vizier and said to him, 'Devise me some plan, whereby my son's affair may be rightly managed, and go to the King of the Camphor Islands and demand his daughter in marriage for Tej el Mulouk.' 'I hear and obey,' answered the Vizier. Then Taj el Mulouk returned to his dwelling place and his longing redoubled and impatience and unease were sore upon him; and when the night darkened upon him, he wept and sighed and complained and repeated the following verses:

The shadows darken and my tears flow aye without avail, Whilst in
     my heart the fires of love rage on and never fail.
Question the nights of me, and they will testify to thee That I
     in all their endless hours do nought but weep and wait.
Wakeful for love-longing and grief, I lie and watch the stars All
     night, what while upon my cheeks the tears fall down like
     hail.
Lowly and helpless I abide, for such as lovers be Have, as it
     were, nor kith nor kin to help them in their bale.

Then he swooned away and did not recover his senses till the morning, when there came to him one of his father's servants and standing at his head, summoned him to the King's presence. So he went with him, and his father seeing that his pallor had increased, exhorted him to patience and promised him union with her he loved. Then he equipped Aziz and the Vizier for the journey and gave them presents for the princess's father; and they set out and fared on night and day, till they drew near the Camphor Islands, when the Vizier called a halt on the banks of a stream and despatched a messenger to acquaint the King of his arrival. The messenger had not long been gone, when they saw, advancing towards them, the King's chamberlains and amirs, who met them at a parasang's distance from the city and escorted them to the royal presence. They laid before the King the gifts with which they were charged and enjoyed his hospitality three days. On the fourth day the Vizier rose and going in to the King, stood before him and acquainted him with the object of his visit; whereat he was perplexed and knew not what answer to make him, for that his daughter was averse from men and did not desire to marry. So he bowed his head awhile, then raised it and calling one of his eunuchs, said to him, 'Go to thy mistress, the princess Dunya, and repeat to her what thou hast heard and tell her this Vizier's errand.' So the eunuch went out and returning after a while, said to the King, 'O King of the age, when I went to the lady Dunya and told her what I had heard, she was exceeding wroth and made at me with a staff, meaning to break my head; whereupon I fled from her, and she said to me, 'If my father force me to marry, him whom I wed I will kill.' Then said the King to the Vizier and Aziz, 'Salute the King your master and tell him what ye have heard and that my daughter is averse from men and hath no mind to marry.' So they returned, without having accomplished the object of their journey, and fared on till they rejoined the King and told him what had passed; whereupon he commanded the chief to summon the troops for war. But the Vizier said to him, 'O King, do not this, for the King is not at fault, seeing that, when his daughter learnt our business, she sent to say that, if her father forced her to marry, she would kill her husband and herself after him: so the refusal comes from her.' When the King heard this, he feared for Taj el Mulouk and said, 'If I make war on the King of the Camphor Islands and carry off his daughter, she will kill herself and it will profit me nothing.' So he told his son how the case stood, and he said, 'O my father, I cannot live without her; so I will go to her and cast about to get me access to her, though I die in the attempt.' 'How wilt thou go to her?' asked his father; and he answered, 'In the disguise of a merchant.' Then said the King, 'If thou must go and there is no help for it, take with thee Aziz and the Vizier.' He agreed to this, and the King took money from his treasuries and made ready for him merchandise, to the value of a hundred thousand dinars; and when the night came Taj el Mulouk went to Aziz's lodging and passed the night there, heart-smitten and taking no delight in food nor sleep; for melancholy was heavy upon him and he was agitated with longing for his beloved. So he besought the Creator to unite him with her and wept and groaned and complained, repeating the following verses:

Shall union after estrangement betide us, perchance, some day?
     Shall I ever make moan of my passion to thee, I wonder, and
     say,
'How oft have I called thee to mind, whilst the night in its
     trances slept! Thou hast made me waken, whilst all but I in
     oblivion lay.

Then he wept sore and Aziz wept with him, for that he remembered his cousin; and they both ceased not to do thus till the morning, when Taj el Mulouk rose and went in to his mother in his travelling dress. She asked him of his case, and he told her what was to do; so she gave him fifty thousand dinars and bade him farewell, offering up prayers for his safety and for his union with his beloved. Then he left her and betaking himself to his father, asked his leave to depart. The King granted him leave and presenting him with other fifty thousand dinars, let pitch a tent for him without the city, in which they abode two days, then set out on their journey. And Taj el Mulouk delighted in Aziz's company and said to him, 'O my brother, I can never bear to be parted from thee.' 'Nor I from thee,' replied Aziz; 'and fain would I die at thy feet: but, O my brother, my heart is concerned for my mother.' 'When we have attained our wish,' said the prince, 'all will be well.' As for the Vizier, he exhorted Taj el Mulouk to patience, whilst Aziz entertained him with talk and recited verses to him and diverted him with stories and anecdotes; and so they fared on day and night for two whole months, till the way became tedious to the prince and the fires of passion redoubled on him. So he repeated the following verses:

Long is the road and restlessness and grief redouble aye, Whilst
     in my breast the fires of love rage ever night and day
O thou, the goal of all my hopes, sole object of my wish, I swear
     by Him, the Most High God, who moulded man from clay,
For love of thee I bear a load of longing and desire, Such as the
     mountains of Es Shumm might ne'er withal away!
Indeed, O lady of my world,[FN#140] love slayeth me outright; No
     breath of life in me is left, my fainting spright to stay
But for the hope of union with thee, that lures me on, My weary
     body had no strength to furnish forth the way.

When he had finished, he wept and Aziz wept with him, from a lacerated heart, till the Vizier was moved to pity by their weeping and said to the prince, 'O my lord, take courage and be of good cheer; all will yet be well.' 'O Vizier,' said Taj el Mulouk, 'indeed I am weary of the length of the way. Tell me how far we are distant yet from the city.' 'But a little way,' replied Aziz. Then they continued their journey, traversing valleys and plains and hills and stony wastes, till one night, as Taj el Mulouk was asleep, he dreamt that his beloved was with him and that he embraced her and pressed her to his bosom; and he awoke, trembling and delirious with emotion, and repeated the following verses:

My heart is maddened for love and my tears for ever flow, And
     longing is ever upon me and unrelenting woe.
My plaint is, for tears, as the mourning of women bereft of
     young, And I moan, when the darkness gathers, as the
     turtles, sad and low.
Yet, if the breezes flutter from the land where thou dost dwell,
     Their wafts o'er the earth, sun-weaned, a grateful coolness
     throw.
Peace be on thee, my beloved, as long as the cushat flies, As
     long as the turtles warble, as long as the zephyrs blow!

When he had finished, the Vizier came to him and said, 'Rejoice; this is a good sign: so comfort thyself and be of good cheer, for thou shalt surely compass thy desire.' And Aziz also came to him and exhorted him to patience and applied himself to divert him, talking with him and telling him stories. So they pressed on, night and day, other two months, till, one day, at sunrise, there appeared to them some white thing in the distance and Taj el Mulouk said to Aziz, 'What is yonder whiteness?' 'O my lord,' answered he, 'that is the Fortress of Crystal and the city that thou seekest.' At this the prince rejoiced, and they fared forward till they drew near the city, to the exceeding joy of Taj el Mulouk, whose grief and anxiety ceased from him. They entered, in the guise of merchants, the King's son being habited as a merchant of importance, and repaired to a great khan, known as the Merchants' Lodging. Quoth Taj el Mulouk to Aziz, 'Is this the resort of the merchants?' 'Yes,' replied he; 'it is the khan in which I lodged when I was here before.' So they alighted there and making their beasts kneel down, unloaded them and laid up their goods in the warehouses. They abode four days, resting; at the end of which time, the Vizier proposed that they should hire a large house. To this they assented and hired a spacious house, fitted up for festivities, where they took up their abode, and the Vizier and Aziz studied to devise some plan of conduct for Taj el Mulouk, whilst the latter remained in a state of perplexity, knowing not what to do. The Vizier could think of nothing but that he should set up as a merchant in the stuff-market; so he turned to the prince and Aziz and said to them, 'If we tarry thus, we shall not compass our desire nor attain our aim; but I have bethought me of somewhat, in which, if it please God, we shall find our advantage.' 'Do what seemeth good to thee,' replied Taj el Mulouk; 'indeed there is a blessing on the aged, more by token that thou art versed in the conduct of affairs: so tell me what is in thy mind.' 'It is my counsel,' rejoined the Vizier, 'that we hire thee a shop in the stuff-bazaar, where thou mayst sit to sell and buy. Every one, great and small, hath need of silken and other stuffs; so if thou be patient and abide in thy shop, thine affairs will prosper, if it please God, especially as thou art comely of aspect. Moreover, I would have thee make Aziz thy factor and set him within the shop, to hand thee the pieces of stuffs and silks.' When Taj el Mulouk heard this, he said, 'This is a good counsel.' So he took out a handsome suit of merchant's clothes, and putting it on, set out for the bazaar, followed by his servants, to one of whom he had given a thousand dinars, wherewith to fit up the shop. When they came to the stuff-market and the merchants saw Taj el Mulouk's beauty and grace, they were confounded and some said, 'Sure Rizwan hath opened the gates of Paradise and left them unguarded, so that this passing lovely youth hath come out.' And others, 'Belike this is one of the angels.' They asked for the shop of the overseer of the market, and the merchants directed them to it. So they repaired thither and saluted him, and he and those who were with him rose to them and seated them and made much of them because of the Vizier, whom they saw to be a man of age and reverend aspect; and seeing Aziz and Taj el Mulouk in his company, they said to one another, 'Doubtless this old man is the father of these two youths.' Then said the Vizier, 'Which of you is the overseer of the market?' 'This is he,' answered they; whereupon he came forward and the Vizier, observing him, saw him to be an old man of grave and dignified carriage, with slaves and servants, white and black. He greeted them in the friendliest manner and was lavish in his attentions to them: then he made them sit by his side and said to them, 'Have you any business which we may have the pleasure of transacting?' 'Yes,' answered the Vizier. 'I am an old man, stricken in years, and have with me these two youths, with whom I have travelled through many towns and countries, tarrying a whole year in every city (of importance) on our way, that they might take their pleasure in viewing it and come to know its people. Now I have chosen to make a stay in this your town; so I would fain have thee allot me a handsome shop in the best situation, wherein I may establish them, that they may traffic and learn to buy and sell and give and take, whilst they divert themselves with the sight of the place and acquire the uses of its people.' 'Good,' said the overseer, and looking at the two youths, rejoiced in them and conceived a great affection for them. Now he was a great lover of bewitching glances, preferring the commerce of boys to that of girls and inclining to their love. So he said in himself, 'These be fine purchase; glory to Him who created and fashioned them out of vile water!'[FN#141] and rising, stood before them like a servant, to do them honour. Then he went out and made ready for them a shop in the midst of the market, than which there was no larger nor better in the bazaar, for it was spacious and handsomely decorated and fitted with shelves of ebony and ivory; after which he delivered the keys to the Vizier, who was dressed as an old merchant, saying, 'Take them, O my lord, and may God make it a blessed abiding-place to thy sons!' The Vizier took the keys, and they returned to the khan and caused their servants to transport to the shop all their goods and stuffs and valuables, of which they had great plenty, worth treasures of money. Next morning, the Vizier carried the two young men to the bath, where they washed and put on rich clothes and perfumed themselves to the utmost therein. Now each of them was passing fair to look upon, and the bath enhanced their charms to the utmost, even as says the poet:

Good luck to him who in the bath doth serve him as his squire,
     Handling a body 'gotten sure 'twixt water and the fire!
With skilful hands he showeth forth the marvels of his craft, In
     that he gathers very musk[FN#142] from what is like
     camphire.

When the overseer heard that they had gone to the bath, he sat down to await them, and presently they came up to him, like two gazelles, with red cheeks and black eyes and shining faces, as they were two lustrous moons or two fruit-laden saplings. When he saw them, he rose and said to them, 'May your bath profit you ever!' Whereupon Taj el Mulouk replied, with the sweetest of speech, 'May God be bountiful to thee, O my father! Why didst thou not come with us and bathe in our company?' Then they both bent over his hands and kissing them, walked before him to the shop, to do him honour and show their respect for him, for that he was chief of the merchants and the market, as well as their sense of his kindness in giving them the shop. When he saw their hips quivering, emotion and longing redoubled on him and he could not contain himself, but puffed and snorted and devoured them with his eyes, repeating the following verses:

The heart in them studies the chapter of worship unshared sheer
     No proofs of more gods to worship than one it readeth here.
No wonder it is they tremble by reason of their weight; How much
     is there not of motion in that revolving sphere!

And also these:

Two fair ones walking on the earth mine eyes did late espy; Two that I needs must love although they walked upon mine eye.

When they heard this, they begged him to enter the bath with them a second time. He could hardly believe his ears and hastening thither, went in with them. The Vizier had not yet left the bath; so when he heard of the overseer's coming, he came out and meeting him in the outer room of the bath, invited him to enter. He refused, but Taj el Mulouk took him by one hand and Aziz by the other and carried him into a cabinet, the impure old man submitting to them, whilst his emotion increased on him. Then Taj el Mulouk swore that none but he should wash him and Aziz that none but he should pour water on him. He would have refused, albeit this was what he desired; but the Vizier said to him, 'They are thy sons; let them wash thee and bathe thee.' 'God preserve them to thee!' exclaimed the overseer. 'By Allah, thy coming and theirs hath brought blessing and fortune upon our city!' and he repeated the following verses:

Thou cam'st, and the mountains about us grew green And glittered,
     with flowers for the bridegroom beseen;
Whilst earth and her creatures cried, 'Welcome to thee, Thrice
     welcome, that comest in glory and sheen!'

They thanked him for this, and Taj el Mulouk proceeded to wash him, whilst Aziz poured water over him and he thought himself in Paradise. When they had made an end of his service, he called down blessings on them and sat talking with the Vizier, gazing the while on the youths. Presently, the servants brought them towels, and they dried themselves and donned their clothes. Then they went out, and the Vizier said to the overseer, 'O my lord, verily the bath is the Paradise of this world.' 'May God vouchsafe it[FN#143] to thee,' replied the overseer, 'and health to thy sons and guard them from the evil eye! Do you remember aught that the poets have said in praise of the bath?' 'Yes,' said Taj el Mulouk and repeated the following verses:

The life of the bath is the pleasantest part of life, Except that
     the time of our sojourn there is slight.
A heaven, wherein 'tis irksome to us to bide: A hell, into which
     we enter with delight.

'And I also,' said Aziz, 'remember some verses in praise of the bath.' Quoth the overseer, 'Let us hear them.' So he repeated the following:

I know a house, wherein flowers from the sheer stone blow; Most
     goodly, when the flames about it rage and glow.
Thou deem'st it hell, and yet, in truth, 'tis Paradise And most
     that be therein are sun and moons, I trow.

His verses pleased the overseer and he wondered at their grace and eloquence and said, 'By Allah, ye possess both beauty and eloquence! But now listen to me.' And he chanted the following verses:

O pleasaunce of hell-fire and paradise of pain! Bodies and souls
     therein indeed are born again.
I marvel at a house, whose pleasantness for aye Doth flourish,
     though the flames beneath it rage amain.
A sojourn of delight to those who visit it It is; the pools on
     them their tears in torrents rain.

Then he fed his eyes on the gardens of their beauty and repeated the following verses:

I went to the bath-keeper's house and entered his dwelling-place
     And found no door-keeper there but met me with smiling face.
I sojourned awhile in his heaven[FN#144] and visited eke his
     hell[FN#145] And thanked both Malik[FN#146] and
     Rizwan[FN#147] for solace and kindly grace.

They were charmed with these verses, and the overseer invited them to his house; but they declined and resumed to their own lodging, to rest from the great heat of the bath. They took their ease there and ate and drank and passed the night in the greatest comfort and delight, till morning, when they arose from sleep and making their ablutions, prayed the morning-prayer and drank the morning-draught. As soon as the sun had risen and the markets and shops were open, they went out to the bazaar and opened their shop, which their servants had already furnished, after the handsomest fashion, with prayer-rugs and silken carpets and a pair of divans, each worth a hundred dinars. On each divan they had spread a rug, garded with gold and fit for a king, and in the midst of the shop stood a third seat of still greater elegance, even as the case required. Taj el Mulouk sat down on one couch and Aziz on another, whilst the Vizier seated himself on that in the centre, and the servants stood before them. The people of the city heard of them and crowded to them, so that they sold some of their goods and the report of Taj el Mulouk's beauty and grace spread throughout the place. Some days passed thus, and every day the people flocked to them more and more, till the Vizier, after exhorting the prince to keep his secret, commended him to Aziz's care and went home, that he might be alone and cast about for some device that might profit them.

Meanwhile, the two young men sat talking and the prince said to Aziz, 'It may be some one will come from the Princess Dunya.' So he abode in expectation of this days and nights, whilst his heart was troubled and he knew neither sleep nor rest: for desire had gotten the mastery of him and passion and longing were sore upon him, so that he forewent the solace of sleep and abstained from meat and drink; yet ceased he not to be like the full moon. One day, as he sat in the shop, there came up an old woman, followed by two slave-girls. She stopped before Taj el Mulouk and observing his grace and elegance and symmetry, marvelled at his beauty and sweated in her clothes, exclaiming, 'Glory to Him who created thee out of vile water and made thee a ravishment to all who look upon thee!' And she fixed her eyes on him and said, 'This is sure no mortal, but a noble angel.' Then she drew near and saluted him, whereupon he returned her salute and (being prompted thereto by Aziz) rose to his feet to receive her and smiled in her face after which he made her sit down by his side and fanned her, till she was rested and refreshed, when she turned to him and said, 'O my son, O thou that art perfect in graces and charms, art thou of this country?' 'By Allah, O my lady,' answered he in the sweetest and pleasantest of voices, 'I was never in this country in my life till now, nor do I sojourn here save for my diversion.' 'May all honour and prosperity attend thee!' rejoined she. 'What stuffs has thou brought with thee? Show me something handsome; for the fair should bring nothing but what is fair.' When he heard her words, his heart fluttered and he knew not what she meant; but Aziz made a sign to him, and he replied, 'I have everything thou canst desire, and amongst the rest goods that befit none but kings and kings' daughters; so tell me for whom thou seekest the stuff, that I may show thee what will befit her.' This he said, that he might learn the meaning of her words; and she rejoined, 'I want a stuff fit for the Princess Dunya, daughter of King Shehriman.' When the prince heard the name of his beloved, he rejoiced greatly and said to Aziz, 'Give me such a bale.' So Aziz brought it and opened it before Taj el Mulouk, who said to the old woman, 'Choose what will suit her; for these are goods only to be found with me.' So she chose goods worth a thousand dinars and said, 'How much is this?' And ceased not the while to talk with him and rub the inside of her thighs with the palm of her hand. 'Shall I haggle with the like of thee about this paltry price?' answered he. 'Praised be God who hath brought me acquainted with thee!' 'The name of God be upon thee!' exclaimed she. 'I commend thy fair face to the protection of the Lord of the Daybreak! Fair face and pleasant speech! Happy the woman who lies in thy bosom and clasps thy waist in her arms and enjoys thy youth, especially if she be fair and graceful like unto thee!' At this, Taj el Mulouk laughed till he fell backward and said (in himself), 'O Thou who fulfillest desires by means of dissolute old women! They are indeed the accomplishers of desires!' Then said she, 'O my son, what is thy name?' And he answered, 'My name is Taj el Mulouk.'[FN#148] 'This is a name of kings and kings' sons,' rejoined she; 'and thou art clad in a merchant's habit.' Quoth Aziz, 'For the love his parents and family bore him and the value they set on him, they named him thus.' 'Thou sayst sooth,' replied the old woman. 'May God guard you both from the evil eye and the malice of the enemy and the envious, though hearts be broken by your charms!' Then she took the stuff and went away, amazed at the prince's beauty and grace and symmetry, and going in to the Princess Dunya, said to her, 'O my lady, I have brought thee some handsome stuff.' 'Show it me,' said the princess. 'Here it is,' answered the old woman; 'turn it over, O my treasure, and examine it.' So the princess looked at the stuff and was amazed at its beauty and said, 'O my nurse, this is indeed handsome stuff! I have never seen its like in our city.' 'O my lady,' replied the nurse, 'he who sold it me is handsomer still. It would seem as if Rizwan had left the gates of Paradise open and this youth had come out. I would he might sleep this night with thee and lie between thy breasts! He hath come hither with these stuffs for amusement's sake, and he is a ravishment to all who set eyes on him.' The princess laughed at her words and said, 'Allah afflict thee, O pernicious old woman! Thou dotest and there is no sense left in thee. Give me the stuff, that I may look at it anew.' So she gave it her, and she examined it again and seeing that though small, it was of great value, was moved to admiration, for she had never in her life seen its like, and exclaimed, 'By Allah, this is a handsome stuff.' 'O my lady,' said the old woman, 'if thou sawest him who sold it to me, thou wouldst know him for the handsomest of all that be upon the face of the earth.' Quoth the princess, 'Didst thou ask him if he had any need, that we might satisfy it?' The nurse shook her head and answered, 'God keep thy sagacity! Assuredly he has a want, may thy skill not fail thee. What man is free from wants?' 'Go back to him,' rejoined the princess; 'salute him for me, and say to him, "Our land and town are honoured by thy visit, and if thou hast any need, we will fulfil it to thee, on our head and eyes."' So the old woman returned to Taj el Mulouk, and when he saw her, his heart leapt for joy and he rose to his feet and taking her hand, seated her by his side. As soon as she was rested she told him what the princess had said, whereat he rejoiced exceedingly; his breast dilated and gladness entered his heart, and he said in himself, 'Verily, I have gotten my desire.' Then said he to the old woman, 'Belike thou wilt take her a message from me and bring me her answer.' 'I hear and obey,' replied she. So he said to Aziz, 'Bring me inkhorn and paper and a pen of brass.' Aziz brought him what he sought, and he took the pen and wrote the following verses: I send thee, O my hope, a letter, to complain Of all my soul endures for parting and its pain.

Six lines it hath; the first, 'A fire is in my heart;' The next
     line setteth forth my passion all in vain;
The third, 'My patience fails and eke my life doth waste;' The
     fourth, 'All love with me for ever shall remain.'
The fifth, 'When shall mine eyes behold thee? And the sixth,
     'When shall the day betide of meeting for us twain?

And by way of subscription he wrote these words, 'This letter is from the captive of desire, prisoned in the hold of longing, from which there is no deliverance but in union and intercourse with her whom he loveth, after absence and separation: for he suffereth grievous torment by reason of his severance from his beloved.' Then his tears rushed out and he wrote the following verses:

I write to thee, my love, and the tears run down as I write; For
     the tears of my eyes, alack I cease never day or night.
Yet do I not despair; mayhap, of God His grace, The day shall
     dawn for us of union and delight.

Then he folded the letter and sealed it and gave it to the old woman, saying, 'Carry it to the lady Dunya.' 'I hear and obey,' answered she; whereupon he gave her a thousand dinars and said to her, 'O my mother, accept this, as a token of my affection.' She took the letter and the money, calling down blessings on him, and returned to the princess. When the latter saw her, she said to her, 'O my nurse, what is it he asks, that we may fulfil his wish to him?' 'O my lady,' replied the old woman, 'he sends thee this letter by me, and I know not what is in it.' The princess took the letter and reading it, exclaimed, 'Who and what is this merchant that he should dare to write to me thus?' And she buffeted her face, saying, 'What have we done that we should come in converse with shopkeepers? Alas! Alas! By Allah, but that I fear God the Most High, I would put him to death and crucify him before his shop!' 'What is in the letter,' asked the old woman, 'to trouble thy heart and move thine anger thus? Doth it contain a complaint of oppression or demand for the price of the stuff?' 'Out on thee!' answered the princess. 'There is none of this in it, nought but words of love and gallantry. This is all through thee: else how should this devil know me?' 'O my lady,' rejoined the old woman, 'thou sittest in thy high palace and none may win to thee, no, not even the birds of the air. God keep thee and keep thy youth from blame and reproach! Thou art a princess, the daughter of a king, and needest not reck of the barking of dogs. Blame me not that I brought thee this letter, knowing not what was in it; but it is my counsel that thou send him an answer, threatening him with death and forbidding him from this idle talk. Surely he will abstain and return not to the like of this.' 'I fear,' said the princess, 'that, if I write to him, he will conceive hopes of me.' Quoth the old woman, 'When he reads thy threats and menace of punishment, he will desist.' So the princess called for inkhorn and paper and pen of brass and wrote the following verses:

O thou who feignest thee the prey of love and wakefulness And
     plainst of that thou dost endure for passion and distress
Thinkst thou, deluded one, to win thy wishes of the moon? Did
     ever any of a moon get union and liesse?
I rede thee put away the thought of this thou seekst from thee,
     For that therein but peril is for thee and weariness.
If thou to this thy speech return, a grievous punishment Shall
     surely fall on thee from me and ruin past redress.
By Him, the Almighty God, I swear, who moulded man from clay, Him
     who gave fire unto the sun and lit the moon no less
If thou offend anew, for sure, upon a cross of tree I'll have
     thee crucified for all thy wealth and goodliness!

Then she folded the letter and giving it to the old woman, said, 'Carry this to him and bid him desist from this talk.' 'I hear and obey,' replied she, and taking the letter, returned, rejoicing, to her own house, where she passed the night and in the morning betook herself to the shop of Taj el Mulouk, whom she found expecting her. At sight of her, he well-nigh lost his reason for delight, and when she came up to him, he rose to his feet and seated her by his side. Then she brought out the letter and gave it to him, saying, 'Read this. When the princess read thy letter, she was angry; but I coaxed her and jested with her till I made her laugh, and she had pity on thee and has returned thee an answer.' He thanked her and bade Aziz give her a thousand dinars: then he read her letter and fell to weeping sore, so that the old woman's heart was moved to pity for him and his tears and complaints grieved her. So she said to him, 'O my son, what is there in this scroll, that makes thee weep?' 'She threatens me with death and crucifixion,' replied he, 'and forbids me to write to her: but if I write not, my death were better than my life. So take thou my answer to her letter and let her do what she will.' 'By the life of thy youth,' rejoined the old woman, 'needs must I venture my life for thee, that I may bring thee to thy desire and help thee to win that thou hast at heart!' And he said, 'Whatever thou dost, I will requite thee therefor, and do thou determine of it; for thou art versed in affairs and skilled in all fashions of intrigue: difficult matters are easy to thee: and God can do all things.' Then he took a scroll and wrote therein the following verses:

My love with slaughter threatens me, woe's me for my distress!
     But death is foreordained; to me, indeed, 'twere happiness;
Better death end a lover's woes than that a weary life He live,
     rejected and forlorn, forbidden from liesse.
Visit a lover, for God's sake, whose every helper fails, And with
     thy sight thy captive slave and bondman deign to bless!
Have ruth upon me, lady mine, for loving thee; for all, Who love
     the noble, stand excused for very passion's stress.

Then he sighed heavily and wept, till the old woman wept also and taking the letter, said to him, 'Take heart and be of good cheer, for it shall go hard but I bring thee to thy desire.' Then she rose and leaving him on coals of fire, returned to the princess, whom she found still pale with rage at Taj el Mulouk's first letter. The nurse gave her his second letter, whereupon her anger redoubled and she said, 'Did I not say he would conceive hopes of us?' 'What is this dog,' replied the old woman, 'that he should conceive hopes of thee?' Quoth the princess, 'Go back to him and tell him that, if he write to me again, I will have his head cut off.' 'Write this in a letter,' answered the nurse, 'and I will take it to him, that his fear may be the greater.' So she took a scroll and wrote thereon the following verses:

Harkye thou that letst the lessons of the past unheeded lie, Thou
     that lookst aloft, yet lackest power to win thy goal on
     high,
Thinkest thou to reach Es Suha,[FN#149] O deluded one, although
     Even the moon's too far to come at, shining in the middle
     sky?
How then dar'st thou hope my favours and aspire to twinned
     delight And my spear-straight shape and slender in thine
     arms to girdle sigh?
Leave this purpose, lest mine anger fall on thee some day of
     wrath, Such as e'en the parting-places shall with white for
     terror dye.

Then she folded the letter and gave it to the old woman, who took it and returned to Taj el Mulouk. When he saw her, he rose to his feet and exclaimed, 'May God not bereave me of the blessing of thy coming!' Quoth she, 'Take the answer to thy letter.' He took it and reading it, wept sore and said, 'Would some one would slay me now, for indeed death were easier to me than this my state!' Then he took pen and inkhorn and paper and wrote the following verses:

O my hope, have done with rigour; lay disdain and anger by, Visit
     one who, drowned in passion, doth for love and longing sigh.
Think not, under thine estrangement, that my life I will endure.
     Lo, my soul, for very severance from thy sight, is like to
     die.

Then he folded the letter and gave it to the old woman, saying, 'Grudge it not to me, though I have wearied thee to no purpose.' And he bade Aziz give her other thousand dinars, saying, 'O my mother, needs must this letter result in perfect union or complete separation.' 'O my son,' replied she, 'by Allah, I desire nought but thy weal; and it is my wish that she be thine, for indeed thou art the resplendent moon and she the rising sun. If I do not bring you together, there is no profit in my life: these ninety years have I lived in the practice of wile and intrigue; so how should I fail to unite two lovers, though in defiance of law?' Then she took leave of him, after comforting his heart, and returned to the palace. Now she had hidden the letter in her hair: so she sat down by the princess and rubbing her head, said, 'O my lady, maybe thou wilt comb out my hair: for it is long since I went to the bath.' The princess bared her arms to the elbow and letting down the old woman's hair, began to comb it, when out dropped the letter and Dunya seeing it, asked what it was. Quoth the nurse, 'This paper must have stuck to me, as I sat in the merchant's shop: give it me, that I may return it to him; belike it contains some reckoning of which he hath need.' But the princess opened it, and reading it, cried out, 'This is one of thy tricks, and hadst thou not reared me, I would lay violent hands on thee forthright! Verily God hath afflicted me with this merchant: but all that hath befallen me with him is of thy contrivance. I know not whence this fellow can have come: none but he would venture to affront me thus, and I fear lest this my case get wind, the more that it concerns one who is neither of my rank nor of my peers.' 'None would dare speak of this,' rejoined the old woman, 'for fear of thine anger and awe of thy father; so there can be no harm in sending him an answer.' 'O my nurse,' said the princess, 'verily this fellow is a devil. How can he dare to use such language to me and not dread the Sultan's wrath? Indeed, I am perplexed about his case: if I order him to be put to death, it were unjust; and if I leave him, his presumption will increase.' 'Write him a letter,' rejoined the old woman; 'it may be he will desist.' So she called for pen and ink and paper and wrote the following verses:

Again and again I chide thee, yet folly ever again Lures thee:
     how long, with my writing, in verse shall I bid thee
     refrain,
Whilst thou but growest in boldness for all forbidding? But I No
     grace save to keep thy secret, unto thy prayers may deign.
Conceal thy passion nor ever reveal it; for, an thou speak, I
     will surely show thee no mercy nor yet my wrath contain.
If to thy foolish daring thou turn thee anew, for sure, The raven
     of evil omen shall croak for thee death and bane;
And slaughter shall come upon thee ere long, and under the earth
     To seek for a place of abiding, God wot, thou shalt be fain.
Thy people, O self-deluder, thou'lt leave in mourning for thee;
     Ay, all their lives they shall sorrow for thee, fordone and
     slain.

Then she folded the letter and committed it to the old woman, who took it and returning to Taj el Mulouk, gave it to him. When he read it, he knew that the princess was hard-hearted and that he should not win to her; so he complained to the Vizier and besought his advice. Quoth he, 'Nothing will profit thee save that thou write to her and invoke the wrath of God upon her.' And he said to Aziz, 'O my brother, do thou write to her in my name, according to thy knowledge.' So Aziz took a scroll and wrote the following verses:

O Lord, by the Five Elders, deliver me, I pray, And her, for whom
     I suffer, in like affliction lay!
Thou knowest that I weary in raging flames of love; Whilst she I
     love is cruel and saith me ever nay.
How long shall I be tender to her, despite my pain? How long
     shall she ride roughshod o'er my weakness night and day?
In agonies I wander of never-ceasing death And find nor friend
     nor helper, O Lord, to be my stay.
Full fain would I forget her; but how can I forget, When for
     desire my patience is wasted all away?
Thou that forbidst my passion the sweets of happy love, Art thou
     then safe from fortune, that shifts and changes aye?
Art thou not glad and easeful and blest with happy life, Whilst
     I, for thee, an exile from folk and country stray?

Then he folded the letter and gave it to Taj el Mulouk, who read the verses and was pleased with them. So he handed the letter to the old woman, who took it and carried it to the princess. When she read it, she was greatly enraged and said, 'All that has befallen me comes from this pernicious old woman!' Then she cried out to the damsels and eunuchs, saying, 'Seize this accursed old trickstress and beat her with your slippers!' So they beat her till she swooned away; and when she revived, the princess said to her, 'By Allah, O wicked old woman, did I not fear God the Most High, I would kill thee!' Then she bade them beat her again, and they did so, till she fainted a second time, whereupon the princess ordered them to drag her forth and throw her without the palace. So they dragged her along on her face and threw her down before the gate. When she came to herself, she rose and made the best of her way home, walking and resting by turns. She passed the night in her own house and in the morning, she went to Taj el Mulouk and told him what had passed, at which he was distressed and said, 'O my mother, this that has befallen thee is grievous to us; but all things are according to fate and destiny.' 'Take comfort and be of good cheer,' replied she; 'for I will not give over striving, till I have brought thee and her together and made thee to enjoy the vile baggage who hath tortured me with beating.' Quoth the prince, 'Tell me the reason of her aversion to men.' 'It arose from what she saw in a dream,' answered the old woman. 'And what was this dream?' asked the prince. 'One night,' replied she, 'as she lay asleep, she saw a fowler spread his net upon the ground and scatter grain round it. Then he sat down hard by, and all the birds in the neighbourhood flocked to the net. Amongst the rest she saw a pair of pigeons, male and female; and whilst she was watching the net, the male bird's foot caught in it and he began to struggle, whereupon all the other birds took fright and flew away. But presently his mate came back and hovered over him, then alighted on the net, unobserved by the fowler, and fell to picking and pulling at the mesh in which the male bird's foot was entangled with her beak, till she released him and they flew away together. Then the fowler came up and mended his net and seated himself afar off. After awhile, the birds came back and the female pigeon was caught in the net, whereupon all the other birds took fright and flew away; and the male pigeon flew away with the rest and did not return to his mate. Then came the fowler and took the female pigeon and killed her. So the princess awoke, troubled by her dream, and said, "All males are worthless, like this pigeon: and men in general are wanting in goodness to women."' When the old woman had made an end of her story, the prince said to her, 'O my mother, I desire to have one look at her, though it be my death; so do thou contrive me some means of seeing her.' 'Know then,' answered she, 'that she hath under her palace windows a pleasure-garden, to which she resorts once in every month by the private door. In ten days, the time of her thus going forth will arrive; so when she is about to visit the garden, I will come and tell thee, that thou mayst go thither and meet her. And look thou quit not the garden, for haply, if she sees thy beauty and grace, her heart will be taken with love of thee, and love is the most potent means of union.' 'I hear and obey,' replied Taj el Mulouk. Then he and Aziz left the shop, and taking the old woman with them, showed her where they lodged. Then said the prince to Aziz, 'I have no further need of the shop, having fulfilled my purpose of it; so I give it to thee with all that is in it; for that thou hast come abroad with me and hast left thy country for my sake.' Aziz accepted his gift and they sat conversing awhile, the prince questioning the young merchant of the strange passages of his life and the latter acquainting him with the particulars thereof. Presently, they went to the Vizier and acquainting him with Taj el Mulouk's purpose, asked him what they should do. 'Let us go to the garden,' answered he. So they donned their richest clothes and went forth, followed by three white slaves, to the garden, which they found thick with trees and abounding in rills. At the gate, they saw the keeper sitting; so they saluted him and he returned their salute. Then the Vizier gave him a hundred dinars, saying, 'Prithee, take this spending-money and fetch us something to eat; for we are strangers and I have with me these two lads, whom I wish to divert.' The gardener took the money and said to them, 'Enter and take your pleasure in the garden, for it is all yours; and sit down till I bring you what you require.' So he went to the market, and the Vizier and his companions entered the garden. In a little while, the gardener returned with a roasted lamb and bread as white as cotton, which he placed before them, and they ate and drank; after which he set on sweetmeats, and they ate of them, then washed their hands and sat talking. Presently the Vizier said to the gardener, 'Tell me about this garden: is it thine or dost thou rent it?' 'It does not belong to me,' replied he, 'but to the Princess Dunya, the King's daughter.' 'What is thy wage?' asked the Vizier, and the gardener answered, 'One dinar every month and no more.' Then the Vizier looked round about the garden and seeing in its midst a pavilion, lofty but old and dilapidated, said to the keeper, 'O elder, I am minded to do here a good work, by which thou shalt remember me.' 'O my lord,' rejoined the other, 'what is that?' 'Take these three hundred dinars,' answered the Vizier. When the keeper heard speak of the dinars, he said, 'O my lord, do what thou wilt.' So the Vizier gave him the money, saying, 'God willing, we will work a good work in this place.' Then they left the garden and returned to their lodging, where they passed the night. Next day, the Vizier sent for a plasterer and a painter and a skilful goldsmith, and furnishing them with all the tools and materials that they required, carried them to the garden, where he bade them plaster the walls of the pavilion and decorate it with various kinds of paintings. Then he sent for gold and ultramarine and said to the painter, 'Paint me on the wall, at the upper end of the saloon, a fowler, with his nets spread and birds lighted round them and a female pigeon fallen into the net and entangled therein by the bill. Let this fill one compartment of the wall, and on the other paint the fowler seizing the pigeon and setting the knife to her throat, whilst the third compartment of the picture must show a great hawk seizing the male pigeon, her mate, and digging his talons into him.' The painter did as the Vizier bade him, and when he and the other workmen had finished, they took their hire and went away. Then the Vizier and his companions took leave of the gardener and returned to their lodging, where they sat down to converse. And Taj el Mulouk said to Aziz, 'O my brother, recite me some verses: haply it may dilate my breast and dispel my sad thoughts and assuage the fire of my heart.' So Aziz chanted the following verses:

All that they fable lovers feel of anguish and despite, I in
     myself comprise, and so my strength is crushed outright;
And if thou seekst a watering-place, see, from my streaming eyes,
     Rivers of tears for those who thirst run ever day and night.
Or, if thou fain wouldst look upon the ruin passion's hands Can
     wreak on lovers, let thy gaze upon my body light.

And his eyes ran over with tears and he repeated these verses also:

Who loves not the necks and the eyes of the fair and pretends,
     forsooth, To know the delight of the world, God wot, he
     speaks not the truth
For in love is a secret meaning that none may win to know Save he
     who has loved indeed and known its wrath and ruth.
May God not lighten my heart of passion for her I love Nor ease
     my eyelids, for love, of wakefulness in my youth!

Then he sang the following:

Avicenna pretends, in his writings renowned, That the lover's
     best medicine is song and sweet sound
And dalliance with one of his sex like his love And drinking,
     with waters and fruits all around.
I took me another, to heal me for thee, And fate was propitious
     and grace did abound
Yet I knew love a mortal disease, against which Avicenna his
     remedy idle I found.

Taj el Mulouk was pleased with his verses and wondered at his eloquence and the excellence of his recitation, saying, 'Indeed thou hast done away from me somewhat of my concern.' Then said the Vizier, 'Of a truth there occurred to those of times past what astounds those who hear it.' 'If thou canst recall any fine verse of this kind,' quoth the prince, 'I prithee let us hear it and keep the talk in vogue.' So the Vizier chanted the following verses:

Methought thy favours might be bought and thou to give consent To
     union won by gifts of gold and grace and blandishment:
And eke, for ignorance, I deemed thy love an easy thing, Thy love
     in which the noblest souls for languor are forspent;
Until I saw thee choose one out and gratify that one With sweet
     and subtle favours. Then, to me 'twas evident
Thy graces never might be won by any artifice; So underneath my
     wing my head I hid incontinent
And in the nest of passion made my heart's abiding-place, Wherein
     my morning and my night for evermore are pent.

Meanwhile the old woman remained shut up in her house till it befell that the princess was taken with a desire to divert herself in the garden. Now this she had been wont to do only in company with her nurse; so she sent for her and spoke her fair and made her peace with her, saying, 'I wish to go forth to the garden, that I may divert myself with the sight of its trees and fruits and gladden my heart with its flowers.' 'I hear and obey,' replied the old woman; 'but let me first go to my house and change my dress, and I will be with thee anon.' 'Go,' said the princess; 'but be not long absent from me.' So the old woman left her and repairing to Taj el Mulouk, said to him, 'Don thy richest clothes and go to the gardener and salute him and make shift to hide thyself in the garden.' 'I hear and obey,' answered he; and she agreed with him upon a signal to be made by her to him and returned to the princess. As soon as she was gone, the Vizier and Aziz rose and dressed Taj el Mulouk in a right costly suit of kings' raiment, worth five thousand dinars, and girt his middle with a girdle of gold set with jewels. Then he repaired to the garden and found the keeper seated at the gate. As soon as the latter saw him, he sprang to his feet and received him with all respect and consideration and opening the gate, said, 'Enter and take thy pleasure in the garden.' Now the gardener knew not that the princess was to visit the garden that day: but Taj el Mulouk had been there but a little while, when he heard a noise and ere he could think, out came the eunuchs and damsels by the private door. When the gardener saw this, he came up to the prince and said to him, 'O my lord, what is to be done? The Princess Dunya, the King's daughter, is here.' 'Fear not,' replied the prince; 'no harm shall befall thee: for I will conceal myself somewhere about the garden.' So the gardener exhorted him to the utmost prudence and went away. Presently, the princess entered the garden, attended by her damsels and the old woman, who said to herself, 'If these eunuchs abide with us, we shall not attain our object.' So she said to the princess, 'O my lady, I have somewhat to say to thee that will be for thy heart's ease.' 'Say on,' replied the princess. 'O my lady,' said the old woman, 'thou hast no present need of these eunuchs; send them away, for thou wilt not be able to divert thyself at thine ease, whilst they are with us.' 'Thou art right,' rejoined the princess. So she dismissed the eunuchs and began to walk about, whilst Taj el Mulouk fed his eyes on her beauty and grace, without her knowledge, and fainted every time he looked at her, by reason of her surpassing loveliness. The old woman held her in converse and drew her on till they reached the pavilion, which the Vizier had caused to be decorated afresh, when the princess entered and looking round, perceived the picture of the fowler and the birds; whereupon she exclaimed, 'Glory be to God! This is the very presentment of what I saw in my dream.' She continued to gaze at the painting, full of admiration, and presently she said, 'O my nurse, I have been wont to blame and dislike men, by reason of my having seen in my dream the female pigeon abandoned by her mate; but now see how the male pigeon was minded to return and set her free; but the hawk met him and tore him in pieces.' The old woman, however, feigned ignorance and ceased not to hold her in converse, till they drew near the place where the prince lay hidden, whereupon she signed to him to come out and walk under the windows of the pavilion. He did so: and presently the princess, chancing to look out, saw him and noting his beauty and symmetry, said to the old woman, 'O my nurse, whence comes yonder handsome youth?' 'I know nothing of him,' replied the old woman, 'except that I think he must be some great king's son, for he attains the utmost extreme of beauty and grace.' The princess fell passionately in love with him; the spells that bound her were dissolved and her reason was overcome by his beauty and elegance. So she said to the old woman, 'O my nurse this is indeed a handsome youth.' 'Thou art in the right O my lady!' replied the nurse and signed to Taj el Mulouk to go home. So he went away, not daring to cross her though desire flamed in him and he was distraught for love and longing, and taking leave of the gardener, returned to his lodging, where he told the Vizier and Aziz all that had passed. They exhorted him to patience, saying, 'Did not the old woman know that there was an object to be gained by thy departure, she had not signed to thee to return home.'

Meanwhile, desire and passion redoubled upon the princess, and she was overcome with love-longing and said to the old woman, 'I know not how I shall foregather with this youth, but through thee.' 'God be my refuge from Satan the Accursed!' exclaimed the old woman. 'Thou that art averse from men! How comes it that thou art thus afflicted with love of this young man? Though, by Allah, none is worthy of thy youth but he!' 'O my nurse,' said the princess, 'help me to foregather with him, and thou shalt have of me a thousand dinars and a dress worth as much more: but if thou aid me not to come at him, I shall assuredly die.' 'Go to thy palace,' replied the nurse, 'and leave me to devise means for bringing you together. I will risk my life to content you both.' So the princess returned to her palace, and the old woman betook herself to Taj el Mulouk, who rose to receive her and entreated her with respect and honour, making her sit by his side. Then said she, 'The device hath succeeded,' and told him all that had passed between the princess and herself. 'When is our meeting to be?' asked he. 'To-morrow,' replied the old woman. So he gave her a thousand dinars and a dress of equal value, and she took them and returned to the princess, who said to her, as soon as she saw her, 'O my nurse, what news of my beloved?' 'I have discovered where he lives,' replied she, 'and will bring him to thee to-morrow.' At this the princess was glad and gave her a thousand dinars and a dress worth as much more, with which she returned to her own house, where she passed the night. Next morning, she went to Taj el Mulouk and dressing him in women's clothes, said to him, 'Follow me and sway from side to side, as thou goest, and do not hasten in thy walk nor take heed of any that speaks to thee.' Then she went out and walked on, followed by the prince, whom she continued to lesson and hearten by the way, that he might not be afraid, till they came to the palace gate. She entered and the prince after her, and she led him through doors and vestibules, till they had passed six doors. As they approached the seventh door, she said to him, 'Take courage and when I call out to thee and say, "Pass, O damsel!" do not hesitate, but hasten on. When thou art in the vestibule, thou wilt see on thy left a gallery, with doors along it: count five doors and enter the sixth, for therein is thy desire.' 'And whither wilt thou go?' asked the prince. 'Nowhere,' answered she; 'except that I may drop behind thee and the chief eunuch may detain me, whilst I talk with him.' Then they went up to the door, where the chief eunuch was stationed, and he, seeing Taj el Mulouk with her, dressed as a slave-girl, said to the old woman, 'What girl is this with thee?' Quoth she, 'This is a slave-girl of whom the Princess Dunya has heard that she is skilled in different arts, and she hath a mind to buy her.' 'I know no slave-girl,' rejoined the eunuch, 'nor any one else; and none shall enter here without being searched by me, according to the King's orders.' At this the old woman feigned to be angry and said, 'I thought thee a man of sense and good breeding: but, if thou be changed, I will let the princess know of it and how thou hinderest her slave-girl.' Then she cried out to Taj el Mulouk, saying, 'Pass on, O damsel!' So he passed on into the vestibule, whilst the eunuch was silent and said nothing. Then the prince counted five doors and entered the sixth, where he found the Princess Dunya standing awaiting him. As soon as she saw him, she knew him and pressed him to her bosom, and he returned her embrace. Then the old woman came in to them, having made a pretext to dismiss the princess's attendants for fear of discovery, and the princess said to her, 'Do thou keep the door.' So she and Taj el Mulouk abode alone together and passed the night in kissing and embracing and twining leg with leg. When the day drew near, she left him and shutting the door upon him, passed in to another apartment, where she sat down according to her wont, whilst her women came in to her, and she attended to their affairs and conversed with them awhile. Then she said to them, 'Leave me now, for I wish to be alone.' So they withdrew and she betook herself to Taj el Mulouk, and the old woman brought them food, of which they ate and after fell again to amorous dalliance, till the dawn. Then the princess left him, and locked the door as before; and they ceased not to do thus for a whole month.

Meanwhile, the Vizier and Aziz, when they found that the prince did not return from the princess's palace all this while, gave him up for lost and Aziz said to the Vizier, 'O my father, what shall we do?' 'O my son,' answered he, 'this is a difficult matter, and except we return to his father and tell him, he will blame us.' So they made ready at once and setting out, journeyed night and day along the valleys, in the direction of the Green Country, till they reached King Suleiman's capital and presenting themselves before him, acquainted him with what had befallen his son and how they had heard no news of him, since he entered the princess's palace. At this the King was greatly troubled and regret was sore upon him, and he let call a holy war throughout his realm. Then he encamped without the town with his troops and took up his abode in his pavilion, whilst the levies came from all parts of the kingdom; for his subjects loved him by reason of his much justice and beneficence. As soon as his forces were assembled, he took horse, with an army covering the country as far as the eye could reach, and departed in quest of his son Taj el Mulouk. Meanwhile, the latter sojourned with the princess half a year's time, whilst every day they redoubled in mutual affection and distraction and passion and love-longing and desire so pressed upon Taj el Mulouk, that at last he opened his mind to the princess and said to her, 'Know, O beloved of my heart and entrails, that the longer I abide with thee, the more longing and passion and desire increase on me, for that I have not yet fulfilled the whole of my desire.' 'What then wouldst thou have, O light of my eyes and fruit of my entrails?' asked she. 'If thou desire aught beside kissing and embracing and entwining of legs, do what pleases thee; for, by Allah, none hath any part in us.' 'It is not that I desire,' rejoined he; 'but I would fain acquaint thee with my true history. I am no merchant, but a King, the son of a King, and my father is the supreme King Suleiman Shah, who sent his Vizier ambassador to thy father, to demand thy hand for me in marriage, but thou wouldst not consent.' Then he told her his story from first to last, nor is there any profit in repeating it, and added, 'And now I wish to return to my father, that he may send an ambassador to thy father, to demand thy hand for me, so we may be at ease.' When she heard this, she rejoiced greatly, because it fell in with her own wishes, and they passed the night on this understanding. But by the decree of Fate, it befell that sleep overcame them that night above all nights and they slept till the sun had risen. Now at this hour, King Shehriman was sitting on his chair of estate, with his amirs and grandees before him, when the chief of the goldsmiths presented himself before him carrying a large box, which he opened and brought out therefrom a small casket worth a hundred thousand dinars, for that which was therein of rubies and emeralds and other jewels, beyond the competence of any King. When the King saw this, he marveled at its beauty and turning to the chief eunuch (him with whom the old woman had had to do, as before related), said to him, 'O Kafour, take this casket to the Princess Dunya.' The eunuch took the casket and repairing to the princess's apartment, found the door shut and the old woman lying asleep on the threshold; whereupon said he, 'Asleep at this hour?' His voice aroused the old woman, who was terrified and said to him, 'Wait till I fetch the key.' Then she went out and fled for her life; but the eunuch, having his suspicions of her, lifted the door off its hinges and entering, found the princess and Taj el Mulouk lying asleep in each other's arms. At this sight he was confounded and was about to return to the King, when the princess awoke, and seeing him, was terrified and changed colour and said to him, 'O Kafour, veil thou what God hath veiled.' But he replied, 'I cannot conceal aught from the King;' and locking the door on them, returned to Shehriman, who said to him, 'Hast thou given the casket to the princess?' 'Here is the casket,' answered the eunuch. 'Take it, for I cannot conceal aught from thee. Know that I found a handsome young man in the princess's arms, and they asleep in one bed.' The King commanded them to be fetched and said to them, 'What manner of thing is this!' and being violently enraged, seized a dagger and was about to strike Taj el Mulouk with it, when the princess threw herself upon him and said to her father, 'Slay me before him.' The King reviled her and commanded her to be taken back to her chamber: then he turned to Taj el Mulouk and said to him, 'Woe to thee! Whence art thou? Who is thy father and what hath emboldened thee to debauch my daughter?' 'Know, O King,' replied the prince, 'that if thou put me to death, thou wilt repent it, for it will be thy ruin and that of all in thy dominions.' 'How so?' asked the King. 'Know,' answered Taj el Mulouk, 'that I am the son of King Suleiman Shah, and before thou knowest it, he will be upon thee with his horse and foot.' When King Shehriman heard this, he would have forborne to kill Taj el Mulouk and put him in prison, till he should know the truth of his words; but his Vizier said to him, 'O King of the age, it is my counsel that thou make haste to slay this gallows-bird, that dares debauch kings' daughters.' So the King said to the headsman, 'Strike off his head; for he is a traitor.' Accordingly, the headsman took him and binding him fast, raised his hand to the amirs, as if to consult them, a first and a second time, thinking to gain time; but the King said to him, 'How long wilt thou consult the amirs? If thou do so again, I will strike off thine own head.' So the headsman raised his hand, till the hair of his armpit appeared, and was about to smite off Taj el Mulouk's head, when suddenly loud cries arose and the people closed their strops; whereupon the King said to him, 'Wait awhile,' and despatched one to learn the news. Presently, the messenger returned and said, 'I see an army like the stormy sea with its clashing billows; the earth trembles with the tramp of their horses, and I know not the reason of their coming.' When the King heard this, he was confounded and feared lest his realm should be torn from him; so he turned to his Vizier and said, 'Have not any of our troops gone forth to meet this army?' But before he had done speaking, his chamberlains entered with messengers from the approaching host, and amongst them the Vizier who had accompanied Taj el Mulouk. They saluted the King, who rose to receive them and bidding them draw near, enquired the reason of their coming; whereupon the Vizier came forward and said, 'Know that he who hath invaded thy realm is no king like unto the Kings and Sultans of time past.' 'Who is he?' asked Shehriman, and the Vizier replied, 'He is the lord of justice and loyalty, the report of whose magnanimity the caravans have blazed abroad, the Sultan Suleiman Shah, lord of the Green Country and the Two Columns and the mountains of Ispahan, he who loves justice and equity and abhors iniquity and oppression. He saith to thee that his son, the darling of his heart and the fruit of his loins, is with thee and in this thy city; and if he find him in safety, his aim is won and thou shalt have praise and thanks; but if he have disappeared from thy dominions or if aught have befallen him, look thou for ruin and the laying waste of thy realm; for this thy city shall become a desert, in which the raven shall croak. Thus have I done my errand to thee and peace be on thee!' When King Shehriman heard these words, his heart was troubled and he feared for his kingdom: so he cried out for his grandees and viziers and chamberlains and officers; and when they appeared, he said to them, 'Out on you! Go down and search for the young man!' Now the prince was still under the headsman's hands, but he was changed by the fright he had undergone. Presently, the Vizier, chancing to look aside, saw the prince on the carpet of blood and knew him; so he threw himself upon him, as did the other envoys. Then they loosed his bonds and kissed his hands and feet, whereupon he opened his eyes and recognizing his father's Vizier and his friend Aziz, fell down in a swoon, for excess of delight in them. When King Shehriman saw that the coming of the army was indeed on this youth's account, he was confounded and feared greatly; so he went up to Taj el Mulouk and kissing his head, said to him, with streaming eyes, 'O my son, bear me not malice neither blame the sinner for his evil-doing: but have compassion on my gray hairs and do not lay waste my kingdom.' But Taj el Mulouk drew near unto him and kissing his hand, replied, 'Fear not: no harm shall come to thee, for indeed thou art to me as my father; but look that nought befall my beloved, the lady Dunya.' 'O my lord,' replied the King, 'fear not for her; nought but joy shall betide her.' And he went on to excuse himself to him and made his peace with King Suleiman's Vizier, to whom he promised much money, if he would conceal from the King what he had seen. Then he bade his officers carry the prince to the bath and clothe him in one of the best of his own suits and bring him back speedily. So they carried him to the bath and brought him back to the presence-chamber, after having clad him in the suit that the King had set apart for him. When he entered, the King rose to receive him and made all his grandees stand in attendance on him. Then he sat down to converse with Aziz and the Vizier and acquainted them with what had befallen him; after which they told him how they had returned to his father and given him to know of his son's perilous plight and added, 'And indeed our coming hath brought thee relief and us gladness.' Quoth he, 'Good fortune hath attended your every action, first and last.'

Meanwhile, King Shehriman went in to his daughter, the Princess Dunya, and found her weeping and lamenting for Taj el Mulouk. Moreover, she had taken a sword and fixed the hilt in the earth, with the point to her heart between her breasts; and she bent over it, saying, 'Needs must I kill myself and not live after my beloved.' When her father entered and saw her in this case, he cried out, 'O princess of kings' daughters, hold thy hand and have compassion on thy father and the people of thy realm!' Then he came up to her and said, 'God forbid that an ill thing should befall thy father for thy sake!' And he told her that her lover was the son of King Suleiman Shah and sought her to wife and that the marriage waited only for her consent; whereat she smiled and said, 'Did I not tell thee that he was a king's son? By Allah, I must let him crucify thee on a piece of wood worth two dirhems!' 'O my daughter,' answered the King, 'have mercy on me, so may God have mercy on thee!' 'Harkye,' rejoined she, 'make haste and bring him to me without delay.' The King replied, 'On my head and eyes be it,' and returning in haste to Taj el Mulouk, repeated her words in his ear. So he arose and accompanied the King to the princess, who caught hold of him and embraced him in her father's presence and kissed him, saying, 'Thou hast made me a weary woman!' Then she turned to her father and said to him, 'Sawst thou ever any do hurt to the like of this fair creature, more by token that he is a king, the son of a king, and of the free-bon, guarded against abominations?' Therewith Shehriman went out and shutting the door on them with his own hand, returned to the Vizier and the other envoys and bade them report to their King that his son was in health and gladness and enjoying all delight of life with his beloved. So they returned to King Suleiman and acquainted him with this, whereat he rejoiced and exclaimed, 'Praised be God who hath brought my son to his desire!'

Meanwhile, King Shehriman despatched largesse of money and victual to King Suleiman's troops, and choosing out a hundred coursers and a hundred dromedaries and a hundred white slaves and a hundred concubines and a hundred black slaves and a hundred female slaves, sent them all to the King as a present. Then he took horse, with his grandees and chief officers, and rode out of the city in the direction of King Suleiman's camp. As soon as the latter knew of his approach, he rose and advancing some paces to meet him, took him in his arms and made him sit down beside himself on the royal couch, where they conversed awhile frankly and cheerfully. Then food was set before them, followed by sweetmeats and fruits, and they ate till they were satisfied. Presently, they were joined by Taj el Mulouk, richly dressed and adorned, and when his father saw him, he rose and embraced him and kissed him. Then the two kings seated him between them, whilst all who were present rose to do him honour; and they sat conversing awhile, after which quoth King Suleiman to King Shehriman, 'I wish to have the contract between my son and thy daughter drawn up in the presence of witnesses, that the marriage may be made public, as of wont.' 'I hear and obey,' answered King Shehriman and summoned the Cadi and the witnesses, who came and drew up the marriage contract between the prince and princess. Then they gave largesse of money and sweetmeats and burnt perfumes and sprinkled essences. And indeed it was a day of joy and festivity, and the grandees and soldiers rejoiced therein. Then King Shehriman proceeded to equip his daughter; and Taj el Mulouk said to his father, 'Of a truth, this young man Aziz is a man of great worth and generosity and hath done me right noble service, having wearied for me and travelled with me till he brought me to my desire. Indeed, he ceased never to have patience with me and exhort me to patience, till I accomplished my intent; and he has now companied with us two whole years, cut off from his native land. So now I purpose to equip him with merchandise, that he may depart with a light heart; for his country is near at hand.' 'It is well seen,' replied his father: so they made ready a hundred loads of the richest and most costly stuffs, which Taj el Mulouk presented to Aziz, saying, 'O my brother and my true friend, take these loads and accept them from me, as a gift and token of affection, and go in peace to thine own country.' Aziz accepted the presents and kissing the earth before the prince and his father, bade them farewell. Moreover, Taj el Mulouk mounted and brought him three miles on his homeward way, after which Aziz conjured him to turn back, saying, 'By Allah, O my lord, were it not for my mother, I would never part from thee! But leave me not without news of thee.' 'So be it,' replied Taj el Mulouk. Then the prince returned to the city, and Aziz journeyed on, till he came to his native town and repairing to his mother's house, found that she had built him a monument in the midst of the courtyard and used to visit it continually. When he entered, he found her, with her hair dishevelled and spread over the tomb, weeping and repeating the following verses:

Indeed, I'm very patient 'gainst all that can betide; Yet do I
     lack of patience thine absence to abide.
Who is there can have patience after his friend and who Bows not
     the head to parting, that comes with rapid stride?

Then sobs burst up out of her breast, and she repeated these verses also:

What ails me? I pass by the graveyard, saluting the tomb of my
     son, And yet no greeting he gives me and answer comes there
     none.
"How shall I give thee an answer, who lie in the grip of the
     grave, The hostage of earth and corruption," replies the
     beloved one.
"The dust hath eaten my beauties and I have forgotten thee, Shut
     in from kindred and lovers and stars and moon and sun."

Then Aziz came in to her, and when she saw him, she fell down in a swoon for joy. He sprinkled water on her, till she revived and rising, took him in her arms and strained him to her bosom, whilst he in like manner embraced her. Then they exchanged greetings, and she asked the reason of his long absence, whereupon he told her all that had befallen him from first to last and how Taj el Mulouk had given him a hundred loads of wealth and stuffs. At this she rejoiced, and Aziz abode with his mother in his native town, weeping for what had befallen him with the daughter of Delileh the Crafty, even her who had gelded him.

Meanwhile, Taj el Mulouk went in to his beloved, the Princess Dunya, and did away her maidenhead. Then King Shehriman proceeded to equip his daughter for her journey with her husband and father-in-law and let bring them victual and gifts and rarities. So they loaded their beasts and set forth, whilst Shehriman brought them three days' journey on their way, till King Suleiman begged him to return. So he took leave of them and turned back, and Taj el Mulouk and his wife and father journeyed on, night and day, with their troops, till they drew near the capital of the Green Country. As soon as the news of their coming became known, the folk decorated the city; so in they entered, and the King sitting down on his chair of estate, with his son by his side, gave alms and largesse and loosed those who were in bonds. Then he held a second bridal for his son, and the sound of the singing-women and players upon instruments of music ceased not for a whole month, during which time the tire-women stinted not to adorn the bride and display her in various dresses; and she tired not of the unveiling nor did they weary of gazing on her. Then Taj el Mulouk, after having companied awhile with his father and mother, took up his sojourn with his wife, and they abode in all delight of life and fair fortune, till there came to them the Destroyer of Delights."

When the Vizier had made an end of the story of Taj el Mulouk and the Princess Dunya, Zoulmekan said to him, "Of a truth, it is the like of thee who lighten the mourning heart and are worthy to be the companions of kings and to guide their policy in the right way."

Meanwhile, they ceased not from the leaguer of Constantinople; and there they lay four whole years, till they yearned after their native land and the troops murmured, being weary of siege and vigil and stress of war by night and by day. Then King Zoulmekan summoned Rustem and Behram and Terkash and bespoke them thus, "Know that all these years we have lain here and have not come by our intent and have gotten us but increase of trouble and concern; for indeed we came, thinking to take our wreak for King Omar ben Ennuman and behold, my brother Sherkan was slain; so is our sorrow grown two sorrows and our affliction two afflictions. All this came of the old woman Dhat ed Dewahi, for it was she who slew the Sultan in his kingdom and carried off his wife, the Princess Sufiyeh; nor did this suffice her, but she must put another cheat on us and slay my brother Sherkan: and indeed I have bound myself and sworn by the most solemn oaths to avenge them of her. What say ye? Ponder my words and answer me." With this, they bowed their heads and answered, "It is for the Vizier Dendan to decide." So the Vizier came forward and said, "O King of the age, it avails us nothing to tarry here, and it is my counsel that we strike camp and return to our own country, there to abide awhile and after return and fall upon the worshippers of idols." "This is a good counsel," replied the King; "for indeed the folk weary for a sight of their families, and I also am troubled with yearning after my son Kanmakan and my brother's daughter Kuzia Fekan, for she is in Damascus and I know not how it is with her." So he bade the herald call the retreat after three days, whereupon the troops rejoiced and blessed the Vizier Dendan. Then they fell to preparing for the homeward march and on the fourth day, they beat the drums and unfurled the banners and the army set forth, the Vizier in the van and the King riding in the mid-battle, with the Great Chamberlain by his side, and journeyed night and day, till they reached Baghdad. The folk rejoiced in their return, and care and hardship ceased from them, whilst those who had stayed at home came forth to meet those who had been so long absent and each amir betook him to his own house. As for Zoulmekan, he went up to the palace and went into his son Kanmakan, who had now reached the age of seven and used to go down [into the tilting-ground] and ride. As soon as the King was rested of his journey, he entered the bath with his son, and returning, seated himself on his chair of estate, whilst the Vizier Dendan took up his station before him and the amirs and grandees of the realm entered and stood in attendance upon him. Then he called for his comrade the stoker, who had befriended him in his strangerhood; and when he came, the King rose to do him honour and made him sit by his own side. Now he had acquainted the Vizier with all the kindness and fair service that the stoker had done him; so the Vizier and all the amirs made much of him. The stoker had waxed fat and burly with rest and good living, so that his neck was like an elephant's neck and his face like a porpoise's belly. Moreover, he was grown dull of wit, for that he had never stirred from his place; so at the first he knew not the King by his aspect. But Zoulmekan came up to him smilingly and saluted him after the friendliest fashion, saying, "How hast thou made haste to forget me!" So the stoker roused himself and looking steadfastly on Zoulmekan knew him: whereupon he sprang to his feet and exclaimed. "O my friend, who hath made thee Sultan?" Zoulmekan laughed at him and the Vizier, coming up to him, expounded the whole story to him and said, "He was thy brother and thy friend; and now he is King of the land and needs must thou get great good of him. So I counsel thee, if he say to thee, 'Ask a boon of me,' ask not but for some great thing; for thou art very dear to him." Quoth the stoker, "I fear lest, if I ask of him aught, he may not choose to grant it or may not be able thereto." "Have no care," answered the Vizier; "whatsoever thou asketh, he will give thee." "By Allah," rejoined the stoker, "I must ask of him a thing that is in my thought! Every night I dream of it and implore God to vouchsafe it to me." "Take heart," said the Vizier. "By Allah, if thou askedst of him the government of Damascus, in the room of his brother he would surely give it thee." With this, the stoker rose to his feet and Zoulmekan signed to him to sit; but he refused, saying, "God forfend! The days are gone by of my sitting in thy presence." "Not so," answered the Sultan; "they endure even now. Thou wert the cause that I am now alive, and by Allah, what thing soever thou askest of me, I will give it to thee! But ask thou first of God, and then of me." "O my lord," said the stoker, "I fear…," "Fear not," quoth the Sultan. "I fear," continued he, "to ask aught and that thou shouldst refuse it to me." At this the King laughed and replied, "If thou askedst of me the half of my kingdom, I would share it with thee: so ask what thou wilt and leave talking." "I fear…," repeated the stoker. "Do not fear," said the King. "I fear," went on the stoker, "lest I ask a thing and thou be not able thereto." With this, the Sultan waxed wroth and said, "Ask what thou wilt." Then said the stoker, "I ask, first of God and then of thee, that thou write me a patent of mastership over all the stokers in Jerusalem." The Sultan and all who were present laughed and Zoulmekan said, "Ask somewhat other than this." "O my lord," replied the stoker, "said I not I feared thou wouldst not choose to grant me what I should ask or be not able thereto?" Therewith the Vizier nudged him once and twice and thrice, and every time he began, "I ask of thee…" Quoth the Sultan, "Ask and be speedy." So he said, "I beseech thee to make me captain of the scavengers in Jerusalem or Damascus." Then all those who were present laughed, till they fell backward, and the Vizier beat him. So he turned to the Vizier and said to him, "What art thou that thou shouldst beat me? It is no fault of mine: didst thou not bid me ask some considerable thing? Let me go to my own country." With this, the Sultan knew that he was jesting and took patience with him awhile; then turned to him and said, "O my brother, ask of me some considerable thing, befitting our dignity." So the stoker said, "O King of the age, I ask first of God and then of thee, that thou make me Viceroy of Damascus in the room of thy brother." "God granteth thee this," answered the King. So the stoker kissed the ground before him, and he bade set him a chair in his rank and put on him a viceroy's habit. Then he wrote him a patent of investiture and sealing it with his own seal, said to the Vizier, "None shall go with him but thou; and when thou returnest, do thou bring with thee my brother's daughter, Kuzia Fekan." "I hear and obey," answered the Vizier and taking the stoker, went down with him and made ready for the journey. Then the King appointed the stoker servants and officers and gave him a new litter and princely equipage and said to the amirs, "Whoso loves me, let him honour this man and give him a handsome present." So they brought him every one his gift, according to his competence; and the King named him Ziblcan, [FN#150] and conferred on him the surname of honour of El Mujahid.[FN#151] As soon as the new Viceroy's gear was ready, he went up with the Vizier to the King, to take leave of him and ask his permission to depart. The King rose to him and embracing him, exhorted him to do justice among his subjects and deal fairly with them and bade him make ready for war against the infidels after two years Then they took leave of each other and King Ziblcan, surnamed El Mujahid, set out on his journey, after the amirs had brought him slaves and servants, even to five thousand in number, who rode after him. The Grand Chamberlain also took horse, as did Behram, captain of the Medes, and Rustem, captain of the Persians, and Terkash, captain of the Arabs, and rode with him three days' journey, to do him honour and take their leaves of him. Then they returned to Baghdad and the Sultan Ziblcan and the Vizier Dendan fared on, with their company, till they drew near Damascus. Now news was come upon the wings of birds, to the notables of Damascus that King Zoulmekan had made Sultan over Damascus a Sultan called Ziblcan el Mujahid; so when he reached the city, he found it decorated in his honour, and all the folk came out to gaze on him. He entered Damascus in great state and went up to the citadel, where he sat down upon his chair of estate, whilst the Vizier Dendan stood in attendance on him, to acquaint him with the ranks and stations of the amirs. Then the grandees came in to him and kissed hands and called down blessings on him. He received them graciously and bestowed on them gifts and dresses of honour; after which he opened the treasuries and gave largesse to the troops, great and small. Then he governed and did justice and proceeded to equip the lady Kuzia Fekan, daughter of King Sherkan, appointing her a litter of silken stuff. Moreover, he furnished the Vizier Dendan also for the return journey and would have made him a gift of money, but he refused, saying, "Thou art near the time of the tryst with the King, and haply thou wilt have need of money, or we may send to seek of thee funds for the Holy War or what not." When the Vizier was ready, the Viceroy brought Kuzia Fekan to him and made her mount the litter, giving her ten damsels to do her service. Moreover, he mounted, to bid the Vizier farewell, and they set forward, whilst Ziblcan returned to Damascus and busied himself in ordering the affairs of his government and making ready his harness of war, against such time as King Zoulmekan should send to him there for. Meanwhile the Vizier and his company fared forward by easy stages, till they came, after a month's travel, to Ruhbeh[FN#152] and thence pushed on, till they drew near Baghdad. Then he despatched messengers, to inform King Zoulmekan of his arrival; and he, when he heard this, took horse and rode out to meet him. The Vizier would have dismounted to receive him, but the King conjured him not to do so and spurred his steed, till he came up to him. Then he questioned him of Ziblcan, whereto the Vizier replied that he was well and that he had brought with him his brother's daughter, Kuzia Fekan. At this the King rejoiced and said to Dendan, "Go thou and rest thee of the fatigue of the journey, and after three days come to me again." "With all my heart," replied the Vizier and betook himself to his own house, whilst the King went up to his palace and went in to his brother's daughter, who was then a girl of eight years old. When he saw her, he rejoiced in her and sorrowed sore for her father. Then he let make for her clothes and gave her splendid jewels and ornaments and bade lodge her with his son Kanmakan in one place. So they both grew up, the brightest and bravest of the people of their time; but Kuzia Fekan grew up possessed of good sense and understanding and knowledge of the issues of events, whilst Kanmakan grew up generous and freehanded, taking no thought to the issue of aught. Now Kuzia Fekan used to ride a-horseback and fare forth with her cousin into the open plain and range at large with him in the desert; and they both learnt to smite with swords and thrust with spears. So they grew up, till each of them attained the age of twelve, when King Zoulmekan, having completed his preparations and provisions for the Holy War, summoned the Vizier Dendan and said to him, "Know that I am minded to do a thing, which I will discover to thee, and do thou with speed return me an answer thereon." "What is that, O King of the age?" asked the Vizier. "I am resolved," said the King, "to make my son Kanmakan king and rejoice in him in my lifetime and do battle before him, till death overcome me. What deemest thou of this?" The Vizier kissed the earth before the King and replied, "O King and Sultan, lord of the age and the time, this that is in thy mind is indeed good, save that it is now no time to carry it out, for two reasons: the first, that thy son Kanmakan is yet of tender age; and the second, that it is of wont that he who makes his son king in his lifetime, lives but a little thereafterward." "Know, O Vizier," rejoined the King, "that we will make the Grand Chamberlain guardian over him, for he is art and part of us and he married my sister, so that he is to me as a brother." Quoth the Vizier, "Do what seemeth good to thee: we will obey thine orders." Then the King sent for the Grand Chamberlain and the grandees of the kingdom and said to them, "Ye know that this my son Kanmakan is the first cavalier of the age and that he hath no peer in jousting and martial exercises; and now I appoint him to be Sultan over you in my stead and I make his uncle, the Grand Chamberlain, guardian over him." "O King of the age," replied the Chamberlain, "I am but an offset of thy bounty." And the King said, "O Chamberlain, verily this my son Kanmakan and my niece Kuzia Fekan are brothers' children; so I marry them one to the other and I call those present to witness thereof." Then he made over to his son such treasures as beggar description and going in to his sister Nuzhet ez Zeman told her what he had done, whereat she rejoiced greatly and said, "Verily, they are both my children. May God preserve thee to them many a year!" "O my sister," replied he, "I have accomplished that which was in my heart of the world and I have no fear for my son: yet it were well that thou shouldst have a watchful eye to him and to his mother." And he went on to commend to the Chamberlain and Nuzhet ez Zeman his son and niece and wife. Thus did he nights and days till he [fell sick and] deeming surely that he should drink the cup of death, took to his bed and abode thus a whole year, whilst the Chamberlain took upon himself the ordering of the people and the realm. At the end of this time, the King summoned his son Kanmakan and the Vizier Dendan and said to the former, "O my son, this Vizier shall be thy father, when I am dead; for know that I am about to leave this transitory house of life for that which is eternal. And indeed I have fulfilled my lust of this world; yet there remaineth in my heart one regret, which may God dispel at thy hands!" "What regret is that, O my father?" asked his son. "O my son," answered Zoulmekan, "it is that I die without having avenged thy grandfather Omar ben Ennuman and thine uncle Sherkan on an old woman whom they call Dhat ed Dewahi; but, so God grant thee aid, do not thou fail to take thy wreak on her and to wipe out the disgrace we have suffered at the hands of the infidels. Beware of the old woman's craft and do as the Vizier shall counsel thee; for that he from of old time hath been the pillar of our realm." And his son assented to what he said. Then the King's eyes ran over with tears and his sickness redoubled on him, nor did it leave to press sore upon him four whole years, during which time his brother-in-law the Chamberlain held sway over the country, judging and commanding and forbidding, to the contentment of the people and the nobles, and all the land prayed for him[FN#153] what while Zoulmekan was occupied with his malady. As for Kanmakan, he had no thought but of riding and tilting with spears and shooting with arrows, and thus also did his cousin Kuzia Fekan; for they were wont to go forth at the first of the day and return at nightfall, when she would go in to her mother and he to his, to find her sitting weeping by his father's bed. Then he would tend his father till daybreak, when he would go forth again with his cousin, according to their wont. Now Zoulmekan's sufferings were long upon him and he wept and recited these verses:

My strength is past away, my tale of days is told And I, alas! am
     left even as thou dost behold.
In honour's day, the first amongst my folk was I, And in the race
     for fame the foremost and most bold.
Would that before my death I might but see my son The empery in
     my stead over the people hold
And rush upon his foes and take on them his wreak, At push of
     sword and pike, in fury uncontrolled.
Lo, I'm a man fordone, in this world and the next, Except my
     spright of God be solaced and consoled!

When he had made an end of repeating these verses he laid his head on his pillow and his eyes closed and he slept. In his sleep he saw one who said to him, "Rejoice for thy son shall fill the lands with justice and have the mastery over them and men shall obey him." Then he awoke gladdened by this happy omen that he had seen, and after a few days, death smote him, whereat great grief fell on the people of Baghdad, and gentle and simple mourned for him. But time passed over him, as if he had never been, and Kanmakan's estate was changed; for the people of Baghdad set him aside and put him and his family in a place apart. When his mother saw this, she fell into the sorriest of plights and said, "Needs must I go to the Grand Chamberlain, and I hope for the favour of the Subtle, the All-Wise One!" Then she betook herself to the house of the Chamberlain, who was now become Sultan, and found him sitting upon his couch. So she went in to his wife Nuzhet ez Zeman and wept sore and said, "Verily, the dead have no friends. May God never bring you to need and may you cease not to rule justly over rich and poor many days and years! Thine ears have heard and thine eyes have seen all that was ours aforetime of kingship and honour and dignity and wealth and goodliness of life and condition; and now fortune hath turned upon us, and fate and the time have played us false and wrought hostilely with us; wherefore I come to thee, craving thy bounties, I that have been used to confer favours; for when a man dies, women and girls are brought low after him." And she repeated the following verses:

Let it suffice thee that Death is the worker of wonders and know
     That the lives which are gone from our sight will never
     return to us mo'.
The days of the life of mankind are nothing but journeys, I wot,
     whose watering-places for aye are mixed with misfortune and
     woe.
Yet nothing afflicteth my heart like the loss of the good and the
     great, Whom the stresses of adverse events have compassed
     about and laid low.

When Nuzhet ez Zeman heard this, she remembered her brother Zoulmekan and his son Kanmakan and making her draw near to her, said to her, "By Allah, I am now rich and thou poor, and by Allah, we did not leave to seek thee out, but that we feared to wound thy heart, lest thou shouldst deem our gifts to thee an alms. Of a truth, all the good that we now enjoy is from thee and thy husband: so our house is thy house and our place thy place, and all that we have of wealth and goods is thine." Then she clad her richly and appointed her a lodging in the palace, adjoining her own; and she and her son abode therein in all delight of life. Him also did Nuzhet ez Zeman clothe in kings' raiment and gave them handmaids to do them service. After a little, she told her husband of her brother's widow, whereat his eyes filled with tears and he said, "Wouldst thou see the world after thee, look upon the world after another than thyself. Entertain her honourably and enrich her poverty."

Meanwhile, Kanmakan and Kuzia Fekan grew up and flourished, like unto two fruit-laden saplings or two shining moons, till they reached the age of fifteen. As for the girl, she was indeed the fairest of the cloistered maids, with lovely face and smooth cheeks, slender waist, heavy hips and arrowy shape, lips sweeter than old wine and spittle as it were the fountain Selsebil of Paradise, even as saith the poet, describing her:

From her mouth's honeyed dew, meseems, the first-pressed wine is
     drawn And on her sweetest lips the grapes, from which it's
     crushed, are grown;
And when thou makest her to bend, its vines sway in her shape.
     Blessed be He who fashioned her and may not be made known!

For indeed God had united in her every attribute of beauty: her shape put to shame the willow-wand and the rose sought grace before her cheeks; the water of her mouth made mock of clear wine, and she gladdened heart and eyes, even as saith of her the poet:

Goodly and glorious she is, and perfect in every charm. Her
     eyelashes put to shame kohl and the users of kohl.
Even as a sword in the hand of Ali, the Vicar of God, So is the
     glance of her eye to a lover's heart and soul.

As for Kanmakan, he was no less accomplished in grace and excelling in perfection; there was none could match with him in beauty and qualities, and valour shone from between his liquid black eyes, testifying for him and not against him. The hardest hearts inclined to him; and when the tender down of his lips and cheeks began to sprout, many were the poems made in his honour: as for example quoth one:

Unshown was my excuse, till on his cheek the hair Grew and the
     darkness crept, bewildered, here and there.
A fawn, when eyes of men are fixed upon his charms, His glances
     straight on them a trenchant poniard bare.

And another:

His lovers' souls have woven upon his cheek, I ween, A net the
     blood has painted with all its ruddy sheen.
Oh, how at them I marvel! They're martyrs; yet they dwell In
     fire, and for their raiment, they're clad in sendal
     green.[FN#154]

It chanced, one festival day, that Kuzia Fekan went out, surrounded by her handmaids, to visit certain kindred of the court; and indeed beauty encompassed her; the rose of her cheek vied with the mole thereon, her teeth flashed from her smiling lips, like the petals of the camomile flower, and she was as the resplendent moon. Her cousin Kanmakan began to turn about her and devour her with his eyes. Then he took courage and giving loose to his tongue, repeated the following verses:

When shall the mourning heart be healed of anger and disdain?
     When, rigour ceasing, shall the lips of union smile again?
Would God I knew if I shall lie, some night, within the arms Of a
     beloved, in whose heart is somewhat of my pain!

When she heard this, she was angry and putting on a haughty air, said to him, "Hast thou a mind to shame me among the folk, that thou speakest thus of me in thy verse? By Allah, except thou leave this talk, I will assuredly complain of thee to the Grand Chamberlain, Sultan of Baghdad and Khorassan and lord of justice and equity, whereby disgrace and punishment will fall on thee?" To this Kanmakan made no reply, but returned to Baghdad: and Kuzia Fekan also returned home and complained of her cousin to her mother, who said to her, "O my daughter, belike he meant thee no ill, and is he not an orphan? Indeed, he said nought that implied reproach to thee; so look thou tell none of this, lest it come to the Sultan's ears and he cut short his life and blot out his name and make it even as yesterday, whose remembrance hath passed away." How ever, Kanmakan's case was not hidden from the people, and his love for Kuzia Fekan became known in Baghdad, so that the women talked of it. Moreover, his heart became contracted and his patience waned and he knew not what to do. Then longed he to give vent to the anguish he endured, by reason of the pangs of separation; but he feared her anger and her rebuke: so he recited the following verses:

What though I be fearful, anon, of her wrath, Whose humour serene
     is grown troubled and dour,
I bear it with patience, as he who is sick Endureth a caut'ry in
     hopes of a cure.

His verses came one day to the knowledge of King Sasan (for so had they named the Grand Chamberlain, on his assumption of the Sultanate), as he sat on his throne, and he was told of the love the prince bore to Kuzia Fekan; whereat he was sore vexed, and going in to his wife Nuzhet ez Zeman, said to her, "Verily, to bring together fire and dry grass is of the greatest of risks; and men may not be trusted with women, so long as eyes cast furtive glances and eyelids quiver. Now thy nephew Kanmakan is come to man's estate and it behoves us to forbid him access to the harem; nor is it less needful that thy daughter be kept from the company of men, for the like of her should be cloistered." "Thou sayest sooth, O wise King," answered she. Next day came Kanmakan, according to his wont, and going in to his aunt, saluted her. She returned his greeting and said to him, "O my son, I have somewhat to say to thee, that I would fain leave unsaid; yet must I tell it thee, in my own despite." "Speak," said he. "Know then," rejoined she, "that thine uncle the Chamberlain, the father of Kuzia Fekan, has heard of thy love for her and the verses thou madest of her and has ordered that she be kept from thee; wherefore, if thou have occasion for aught from us, I will send it to thee from behind the door, and thou shalt not look upon Kuzia Fekan nor return hither from day forth." When he heard this, he withdrew, without speaking a word, and betook himself to his mother, to whom he related what his aunt had said to him. Quoth she, "This all comes of thy much talk. Thou knowest that the news of thy passion for Kuzia Fekan is noised abroad everywhere and how thou eatest their victual and makest love to their daughter." "And who should have her but I?" replied the prince. "She is the daughter of my father's brother and I have the best of rights to her." "These are idle words," rejoined his mother. "Be silent, lest thy talk come to King Sasan's ears and it prove the cause of thy losing her and of thy ruin and increase of affliction. They have not sent us the evening meal to-night and we shall die of want; and were we in any land other than this, we were already dead of the pangs of hunger or the humiliation of begging our bread." When Kanmakan heard his mother's words, his anguish redoubled; his eyes ran over with tears and he sobbed and complained and repeated the following verses:

Give o'er this unrelenting blame, that never lets me be! My heart
     loves her to whom it's thrall and may not struggle free.
Look not to me for any jot of patience, for I swear By God His
     house, my patience all is clean divorced from me!
Blamers to prudence me exhort; I heed them not, for I In my
     avouchment am sincere of love and constancy.
They hinder me by very force from visiting my dear, Though, by
     the Merciful, nor rogue am I nor debauchee!
Indeed, my bones, whenas they hear the mention of her name, Do
     quake and tremble even as birds from sparrow-hawks that
     flee.
O daughter of my uncle, say to him who chides at love, That I, by
     Allah, am distraught with love-longing for thee.

And he said to his mother, "I can dwell no longer in my aunt's house nor among these people, but will go forth and abide in the corners of the city." So he and his mother left the palace and took up their abode in one of the quarters of the poorer sort: and she used to go from time to time to King Sasan's palace and take thence food for her own and her son's subsistence. One day, Kuzia Fekan took her aside and said to her, "Alas, my aunt, how is it with thy son?" "O my daughter," replied she, "sooth to say, he is tearful-eyed and mournful-hearted, being fallen into the snare of thy love." And she repeated to her the verses he had made; whereupon Kuzia Fekan wept and said, "By Allah, I rebuked not him for his words of ill-will or dislike to him, but because I feared the malice of enemies for him. Indeed, my passion for him is double that he feels for me; words fail to set out my yearning for him; and were it not for the extravagances of his tongue and the wanderings of his wit, my father had not cut off his favours from him nor decreed unto him exclusion and prohibition. However, man's fortune is nought but change, and patience in every case is most becoming; peradventure He who ordained our severance will vouchsafe us reunion!" And she repeated the following:

O son of mine uncle, the like of thine anguish I suffer, the like
     of thy passion I feel;
Yet hide I from men what I suffer for longing, And shouldst thou
     not also thy passion conceal?

When his mother heard this, she thanked her and blessed her: then she left her and returning to her son, told him what his mistress had said; whereupon his desire for her increased. But he took heart, being eased of his despair, and the turmoil of his spirits was quelled. And he said, "By Allah, I desire none but her!" And he repeated the following verses:

Give over thy chiding; I'll hearken no whit to the flouts of my
     foes: Indeed I've discovered my secret that nought should
     have made me disclose;
And she, whose enjoyment I hoped for, alack! is far distant from
     me; Mine eyes watch the hours of the dark, whilst she passes
     the night in repose.

So the days and nights went by, whilst Kanmakan lay tossing upon coals of fire, till he reached the age of seventeen: and indeed his beauty was now come to perfection and his wit had ripened. One night, as he lay awake, he communed with himself and said, "Why should I keep silence, till I consume away, and see not my love? My only fault is poverty: so, by Allah, I will go out from this land and wander afar in the plains and valleys; for my condition in this city is one of misery and I have no friend nor lover in it to comfort me; wherefore I will distract myself by absence from my native land, till I die and am at peace from abasement and tribulation." And he repeated the following verses:

Though my soul weary for distress and flutter fast for woe, Yet
     of its nature was it ne'er to buckle to a foe.
Excuse me; for indeed my heart is like a book, whereof The
     superscription's nought but tears, that aye unceasing flow.
Behold my cousin, how she seems a maid of Paradise, A houri come,
     by Rizwan's grace, to visit us below!
Who seeks the glances of her eyes and dares the scathing stroke
     Of their bright swords, shall hardly 'scape their swift and
     deadly blow.
Lo, I will wander o'er the world, to free my heart from bale And
     compensation for its loss upon my soul bestow!
Yea, I will range the fields of war and tilt against the brave
     And o'er the champions will I ride roughshod and lay them
     low.
Then will I come back, glad at heart and rich in goods and store,
     Driving the herds and flocks as spoil before me, as I go.

So he went out in the darkness of the night, barefoot, wearing a short-sleeved tunic and a skull-cap of felt seven years old and carrying a cake of dry bread, three days stale, and betook himself to the gate El Arij of Baghdad. Here he waited till the gate opened, when he was the first to go forth; and he went out at random and wandered in the deserts day and night. When the night came, his mother sought him, but found him not, whereupon the world, for all its wideness, was straitened upon her and she took no delight in aught of its good. She looked for him a first day and a second and a third, till ten days were past, but no news of him reached her. Then her breast became contracted and she shrieked and lamented, saying, "O my son, O my delight, thou hast revived my sorrows! Did not what I endured suffice, but thou must depart from the place of my abiding? After thee, I care not for food nor delight in sleep, and but tears and mourning are left me. O my son, from what land shall I call thee? What country hath given thee refuge?" And her sobs burst up, and she repeated the following verses:

We know that, since you went away, by grief and pain we're tried.
     The bows of severance on us full many a shaft have plied.
They girt their saddles on and gainst the agonies of death Left
     me to strive alone, whilst they across the sand-wastes
     tried.
Deep in the darkness of the night a ring-dove called to me,
     Complaining of her case; but I, "Give o'er thy plaint,"
     replied.
For, by thy life, an if her heart were full of dole, like mine,
     She had not put a collar on nor yet her feet had dyed.
My cherished friend is gone and I for lack of him endure All
     manner sorrows which with me for ever will abide.

Then she abstained from food and drink and gave herself up to weeping and lamentation. Her grief became known and all the people of the town and country wept with her and said, "Where is thine eye, O Zoulmekan?" And they bewailed the rigour of fate, saying, "What can have befallen him, that he left his native town and fled from the place where his father used to fill the hungry and do justice and mercy?" And his mother redoubled her tears and lamentations, till the news of Kanmakan's departure came to King Sasan through the chief amirs, who said to him, "Verily, he is the son of our (late) King and the grandson of King Omar ben Ennuman and we hear that he hath exiled himself from the country." When King Sasan heard these words, he was wroth with them and ordered one of them to be hanged, whereat the fear of him fell upon the hearts of the rest and they dared not speak one word. Then he called to mind all the kindness that Zoulmekan had done him and how he had commended his son to his care; wherefore he grieved for Kanmakan and said "Needs must I have search made for him in all countries." So he summoned Terkash and bade him choose a hundred horse and go in quest of the prince. Accordingly he went out and was absent ten days, after which he returned and said, "I can learn no tidings of him and have come on no trace of him, nor can any tell me aught of him." With this, King Sasan repented him of that which he had done with Kanmakan; whilst his mother abode without peace or comfort, nor would patience come at her call: and thus twenty heavy days passed over her.

To return to Kanmakan. When he left Baghdad, he went forth, perplexed about his case and knowing not whither he should go: so he fared on alone into the desert for the space of three days and saw neither footman nor horseman. Sleep deserted him and his wakefulness redoubled, for he pined for his people and his country. So he wandered on, eating of the herbs of the earth and drinking of its waters and resting under its trees at the hour of the noontide heats, till he came to another road, into which he turned and following it other three days, came to a land of green fields and smiling valleys, abounding in the fruits of the earth. It had drunken of the beakers of the clouds, to the sound of the voices of the turtle and the ring-dove, till its hill-sides were enamelled with verdure and its fields were fragrant. At this sight, Kanmakan recalled his father's city Baghdad, and for excess of emotion repeated the following verses:

I wander on, in hope I may return Some day, yet know not when
     that day shall be.
What drove me forth was that I found no means To fend awe, the
     ills that pressed on me.

Then he wept, but presently wiped away his tears and ate of the fruits of the earth. Then he made his ablutions and prayed the ordained prayers that he had neglected all this time; after which he sat in that place, resting, the whole day. When the night came, he lay down and slept till midnight, when he awoke and heard a man's voice repeating the following verses:

Life unto me is worthless, except I see the shine
     Of the flashing teeth of my mistress and eke her face divine.
The bishops in the convents pray for her day and night
     And in the mosques the imams fall prone before her shrine.
Death's easier than the rigours of a beloved one,
     Whose image never cheers me, whenas I lie and pine.
O joy of boon-companions, when they together be
     And lover and beloved in one embrace entwine!
Still more so in the season of Spring, with all its flowers,
     What time the world is fragrant with blossoms sweet and fine.
Up, drinker of the vine-juice, and forth, for seest thou not
     Earth gilt with blooms and waters all welling forth like wine?

When Kanmakan heard this, it revived his sorrows; his tears ran down his cheeks like rivers and flames of fire raged in his heart. He rose to see who it was that spoke, but saw none, for the thickness of the dark; whereupon passion increased on him and he was alarmed and restlessness possessed him. So he descended to the bottom of the valley and followed the banks of the stream, till he heard one sighing heavily, and the same voice recited the followed verses:

Though thou have used to dissemble the love in thy heart for
     fear, Give on the day of parting, free course to sob and
     tear.
'Twixt me and my beloved were vows of love and troth; So cease I
     for her never to long and wish her near.
My heart is full of longing; the zephyr, when it blows, To many a
     thought of passion stirs up my heavy cheer.
Doth she o' the anklets hold me in mind, whilst far away, Though
     between me and Saada were solemn vows and dear?
Shall the nights e'er unite us, the nights of dear delight, And
     shall we tell our suff'rings, each in the other's ear?
"Thou seduced by passion for us," quoth she, and I, "God keep Thy
     lovers all! How many have fallen to thy spear?"
If mine eyes taste the pleasance of sleep, while she's afar, May
     God deny their vision her beauties many a year!
O the wound in mine entrails! I see no cure for it Save
     love-delight and kisses from crimson lips and clear.

When Kanmakan heard this, yet saw no one, he knew that the speaker was a lover like unto himself, debarred the company of her whom he loved; and he said to himself; "It were fitting that this man should lay his head to mine and become my comrade in this my strangerhood." Then he hailed the speaker and cried out to him, saying "O thou that goest in the sombre night, draw near to me and tell me thy history. Haply thou shalt find in me one who will succour thee in shine affliction." "O thou that answerest my complaint and wouldst know my history," rejoined the other, "who art thou amongst the cavaliers? Art thou a man or a genie? Answer me speedily ere thy death draw near, for these twenty days have I wandered in this desert and have seen no one nor heard any voice but thine." When Kanmakan heard this, he said to himself, "His case is like unto mine, for I also have wandered twenty days in the desert and have seen none nor heard any voice: but I will make him no answer till the day." So he was silent and the other called out to him, saying, "O thou that callest, if thou be of the Jinn, go in peace, and if thou be a man, stay awhile, till the day break and the night flee with the dark." So they abode each in his own place, reciting verses and weeping with abundant tears, till the light of day appeared and the night departed with the darkness. Then Kanmakan looked at the other and found him a youth of the Bedouin Arabs, clad in worn clothes and girt-with a rusty sword, and the signs of passion were apparent on him. So he went up to him and accosting him, saluted him. The Bedouin returned the salute and greeted him courteously, but made little account of him, for what he saw of his tender years and his condition, which was that of a poor man. So he said to him, "O youth, of what tribe art thou and to whom art thou kin among the Arabs? What is thy history and wherefore goest thou by night, after the fashion of champions? Indeed, thou spokest to me in the night words such as are spoken of none but magnanimous cavaliers and lionhearted warriors; and now thy life is in my hand. But I have compassion on thee by reason of thy tender age; so I will make thee my companion, and thou shalt go with me, to do me service." When Kanmakan heard him speak thus unseemly, after what he had shown him of skill in verse, he knew that he despised him and thought to presume with him; so he answered him with soft and dulcet speech, saying, "O chief of the Arabs, leave my tenderness of age and tell me thy story and why thou wanderest by night in the desert, reciting verses. Thou talkest of my serving thee; who then art thou and what moved thee to speak thus?" "Harkye, boy!" answered the Bedouin, "I am Subbah, son of Remmah ben Hummam. My people are of the Arabs of Syria, and I have a cousin called Nejmeh, who brings delight to all that look on her. My father died, and I was brought up in the house of my uncle, the father of Nejmeh; but when I grew up and my cousin became a woman, they excluded her from me and me from her, seeing that I was poor and of little estate. However, the chiefs of the Arabs and the heads of the tribes went in to her father and rebuked him, and he was abashed before them and consented to give me his daughter, but upon condition that I should bring him as her dower fifty head of horses and fifty dromedaries and fifty camels laden with wheat and a like number laden with barley, together with ten male and ten female slaves. The dowry he imposed upon me was beyond my competence; for he exacted more than the due marriage portion. So now I am travelling from Syria to Irak, having passed twenty days without seeing other than thyself, and I mean to go to Baghdad, that I may note what rich and considerable merchants start thence. Then I will go out in their track and seize their goods, for I will kill their men and drive off their camels with their loads. But what manner of man art thou?" "Thy case is like unto mine," replied Kanmakan; "save that my complaint is more grievous than thine; for my cousin is a king's daughter, and the dowry of which thou hast spoken would not content her family, nor would they be satisfied with the like of that from me." "Surely," said Subbah, "thou art mad or light-headed for excess of passion! How can thy cousin be a king's daughter? Thou hast no sign of princely rank on thee, for thou art but a mendicant." "O chief of the Arabs," rejoined Kanmakan, "marvel not at my case, for it is due to the shifts of fortune; and if thou desire proof of me, behold, I am Kanmakan, son of King Zoulmekan, son of King Omar ben Ennuman, lord of Baghdad and Khorassan, and fortune hath played the tyrant with me; for my father died and (my uncle) King Sasan took the Sultanate. So I fled forth from Baghdad, secretly, lest any should see me, and have wandered twenty days, without seeing any but thyself. So now I have discovered to thee my case, and my history is as thy history and my need as thy need." When Subbah heard this, he cried out and said, "O joy! I have attained my desire! I will have no booty this day but thyself; for, since thou art of the lineage of kings and hast come out in the habit of a beggar, it cannot be but thy people will seek thee, and if they find thee in any one's hand, they will ransom thee with much treasure. So put thy hands behind thee, O my lad, and walk before me." "Softly, O brother of the Arabs," answered Kanmakan; "my people will not ransom me with silver nor with gold, no, not with a brass dirhem; and I am a poor man, having with me neither much nor little: so leave this behaviour with me and take me to comrade. Let us go forth of the land of Irak and wander over the world, so haply we may win dower and marriage-portion and enjoy our cousins' embraces." When Subbah heard this, he was angry; his arrogance and heat redoubled and he said, "Out on thee, O vilest of dogs! Dost thou bandy words with me? Turn thy back, or I will chastise thee." At this Kanmakan smiled and answered, "Why should I turn my back for thee? Is there no equity in thee? Dost thou not fear to bring reproach upon the Arabs by driving a man like myself captive, in dishonour and humiliation, before thou hast proved him in the field, to know if he be a warrior or a coward?" The Bedouin laughed and replied, "By Allah, I wonder at thee! Thou art a boy in years, but old in talk. These words should come from none but a doughty champion: what wantest thou of equity? "If thou wilt have me be thy captive, to serve thee," said Kanmakan, "throw down thine arms and put off thine upper clothes and wrestle with me; and whichever of us throws the other shall have his will of him and make him his servant." The other laughed and said, "I think thy much talk denotes the nearness of thy death." Then he threw down his sword and tucking up his skirt, drew near unto Kanmakan, and they gripped each other. But the Bedouin found that Kanmakan had the better of him and outweighed him, as the quintal outweighs the dinar; and he looked at his legs and saw that they were as firmly planted as two well-builded minarets or two tent-poles driven into the ground or two immovable mountains. So he knew that he himself was not able to cope with him and repented of having come to wrestle with him, saying in himself, "Would I had fallen on him with my weapons!" Then Kanmakan took hold of him and mastering him shook him, till he thought his guts would burst in his belly and roared out, "Hold thy hand, O boy!" He heeded him not, but shook him again, and lifting him from the ground, made with him towards the stream, that he might throw him therein: whereupon the Bedouin cried out, saying, "O valiant man, what wilt thou do with me?" Quoth Kanmakan, "I mean to throw thee into this stream: it will carry thee to the Tigris. The Tigris will bring thee to the river Isa and the Isa to the Euphrates, and the Euphrates will bear thee to thine own country; so thy people will see thee and know thy manlihead and the sincerity of thy passion." When Subbah heard this, he cried out and said, "O champion of the desert, do not with me the deed of the wicked, but let me go, by the life of thy cousin, the jewel of the fair!" With this, Kanmakan set him down; and when he found himself at liberty, he ran to his sword and buckler and taking them up, stood plotting in himself treachery and a sudden attack on Kanmakan. The latter read his intent in his eye and said to him, "I know what is in thy mind, now thou hast hold of thy sword and buckler. Thou hast neither strength nor skill for wrestling, but thou thinkest that, wert thou on horseback and couldst wheel about and ply me with thy sword, I had been slain long ago. But I will give thee thy will, so there may be no despite left in thy heart. Give me the buckler and fall on me with thy sword; either I shall kill thee or thou me." "Here it is," answered Subbah and throwing him the shield, drew his sword and rushed at him. Kanmakan took the buckler in his right hand and began to fend himself with it, whilst Subbah struck at him with the sword, saying at each stroke, "This is the finishing one!" But Kanmakan received all his blows on his buckler and they fell harmless, though he did not strike back again, having no weapon of offence; and Subbah ceased not to smite at him, till his arm was weary. When the prince saw this, he rushed at him and seizing him in his arms, shook him and threw him to the ground. Then he turned him over on his face and binding his arms behind him with the hangers of his sword, began to drag him by the feet towards the river: whereupon cried Subbah, "What wilt thou do with me, O youth and cavalier of the age and hero of the field?" "Did I not tell thee," answered Kanmakan, "that it was my intent to send thee by the river to thy people and thy tribe, lest their hearts be troubled for thee and thou miss thy cousin's bride-feast?" At this, Subbah shrieked aloud and wept and said, "Do not thus, O champion of the time! Let me go and make me one of thy servants." And he wept and wailed and recited the following verses:

An outcast from my folk (how long my exile lasts!) am I. Would
     God I knew if I in this my strangerhood shall die!
I perish, and my folk know not the place where I am slain; I fall
     in exile, far away from her for whom I sigh.

Kanmakan had compassion on him and said to him, "Make a covenant with me and swear to be a true comrade to me and to bear me company whithersoever I may go." "It is well," replied Subbah and took the required oath. So Kanmakan loosed him, and he rose and would have kissed the prince's hand; but he forbade him. Then the Bedouin opened his wallet and taking out three barley-cakes, laid them before Kanmakan, and they both sat down on the bank of the stream to eat. When they had done eating, they made the ablution and prayed, after which they sat talking of what had befallen each of them from his people and the shifts of fortune. Then said Kanmakan, "Whither dost thou now intend?" "I purpose," replied Subbah, "to repair to Baghdad, thy native town, and abide there, till God vouchsafe me the marriage-portion." "Up then," rejoined the other, "and to the road! I abide here." So the Bedouin took leave of him and set out for Baghdad, whilst Kanmakan remained behind, saying to himself, "O my soul, how shall I return poor and needy? By Allah, I will not go back empty-handed, and if God please, I will assuredly work my deliverance!" Then he went to the stream and made his ablutions and prayed to his Lord, laying his brow in the dust and saying, "O my God, Thou that makest the dew to fall and feedest the worm in the rock, vouchsafe me, I beseech Thee, my livelihood, of Thy power and the graciousness of Thy compassion!" Then he pronounced the salutation that closes prayer and sat, turning right and left and knowing not which way to take. Presently, he saw, making towards him, a horseman whose back was bowed and who let the reins droop. He sat still and after awhile the horseman came up to him, when, behold, he was at the last gasp and made sure of death, for he was grievously wounded. The tears streamed down his cheeks, like water from the mouths of skins, and he said to Kanmakan, "O chief of the Arabs, take me to friend, whilst I live, for thou wilt not find my like, and give me a little water, harmful though the drinking of water be to a wounded man, especially whilst the blood is flowing and the life with it. If I live, I will give thee what shall heal thy distress and thy poverty; and if I die, mayst thou be blessed for thy good intent!" Now this horseman had under him a stallion of the most generous breed, with legs like shafts of marble, the tongue fails to describe it; and when Kanmakan looked at it, he was seized with longing admiration and said in himself, "Verily, the like of this stallion is not to be found in our time." Then he helped the rider to alight and entreated him friendly and gave him a little water to drink; after which he waited till he was rested and said to him, "Who has dealt thus with thee?" "I will tell thee the truth of the case," answered the wounded man. "I am a horse-thief and all my life I have occupied myself with stealing and snatching horses, night and day, and my name is Ghessan, surnamed the plague of all stables and horses. I heard tell of this stallion, that he was with King Afridoun in the land of the Greeks, where they had named him El Catoul and surnamed him El Mejnoun. So I journeyed to Constantinople on his account, and whilst I was watching my opportunity to get at him, there came out an old woman, much considered among the Greeks and whose word is law with them, a past mistress in all manner of trickery, by name Shewahi Dhat ed Dewahi. She had with her this stallion and ten slaves, no more, to attend on her and it, and was bound for Baghdad, there to sue for peace and pardon from King Sasan. So I went out in their track, thinking to get the horse, and ceased not to follow them, but was unable to get at the stallion, by reason of the strict guard kept by the slaves, till they reached this country and I feared lest they should enter the city of Baghdad. As I was casting about to steal the horse, behold, a great cloud of dust arose and covered the prospect. Presently it opened and disclosed fifty horsemen, banded together to waylay merchants and led by a captain by name Kehrdash, like a raging lion, yea, in battle a lion that lays heroes flat even as a carpet. They bore down on the old woman and her company, shouting and surrounding them, nor was it long before they bound her and the ten slaves and made off with their captives and the horse, rejoicing. When I saw this, I said to myself, 'My toil is wasted and I have not attained my desire.' However, I waited to see how the affair would result, and when the old woman found herself a captive, she wept and said to Kehrdash, 'O doughty champion and invincible warrior, what wilt thou do with an old woman and slaves, now thou hast thy will of the horse?' And she beguiled him with soft words and promises that she would send him horses and cattle, till he released her and her slaves. Then he went his way, he and his comrades, and I followed them to this country, watching my opportunity, till at last I succeeded in stealing the horse, whereupon I mounted him and drawing a whip from my wallet, struck him with it. When the robbers heard this, they came out on me and surrounded me on all sides and shot arrows and cast spears at me, whilst I stuck fast on the horse's back and he defended me with his hoofs, till at last he shot out with me from amongst them, like an arrow from the bow or a shooting star, after I had gotten a grievous wound in the press of the battle. Since that time, I have passed three days in the saddle, without tasting food or sleep, so that my strength is wasted and the world is become of no account to me. But thou hast dealt kindly with me and hast had pity on me: and I see thee naked of body and sorrowful of aspect; yet are the marks of gentle breeding manifest on thee. So tell me, what and whence art thou and whither art thou bound?" "My name is Kanmakan," answered the prince, "son of King Zoulmekan, son of King Omar ben Ennuman. My father died, and a base man seized the throne after his death and became king over great and small." Then he told him all his story from first to last; and the thief said to him, (and indeed he had compassion on him), "By Allah, thou art a man of great account and exceeding nobility and thou shalt surely win to high estate and become the first cavalier of thy time! If thou canst lift me into the saddle and mount behind me and bring me to my country, thou shalt have honour in this world and a reward on the Day of calling of men one to another;[FN#155] for I have no strength left to hold myself in the saddle; and if I die by the way, the steed is thine; for thou art worthier of it than any other." "By Allah," said Kanmakan, "if I could carry thee on my shoulders or share my life with thee, I would do so, without the horse! For I am of those that love to do good and succour the afflicted. So make ready to set out and put thy trust in the Subtle, the All-Wise." And he would have lifted him on to the horse and set forward, trusting in God the Succourable. But the robber said, "Wait for me a little." Then he closed his eyes and opening his hands, said, "I testify that there is no god but God and that Mohammed is the Apostle of God! O Glorious One, pardon me my mortal sin, for none can pardon mortal sins save Thou!" And he made ready for death and recited the following verses:

I've ranged through all countries, oppressing mankind, And in
     drinking of wine I have wasted my days.
I've waded through torrents, the horses to steal And I've used
     with my guile the high places to raze.
My case is right grievous and great is my guilt, And Catoul,
     alas! is the end of my ways.
I hoped of this horse I should get my desire; But vain was my
     journey and vain my essays.
All my life I have stolen the steeds, and my death Was decreed of
     the Lord of all power and all praise.
So, in fine, for the good of the stranger, the poor, The orphan,
     I've wearied in toils and affrays.

When he had finished, he closed his eyes and opened his mouth; then giving one sob, he departed this life. Kanmakan rose and dug a grave and laid him in the earth. Then he went up to the stallion and kissed it and wiped its face and rejoiced with an exceeding joy, saying, "None has the like of this horse, no, not even King Sasan." So much for Kanmakan.

Meanwhile, news came to King Sasan that the Vizier Dendan and half the army had thrown off their allegiance to him and sworn that they would have no king but Kanmakan and the Vizier had bound the troops by a solemn covenant and had gone with them to the islands of India and Ethiopia, where he had gathered together a host like the swollen sea, none could tell its van from its rear. Moreover, he was resolved to make for Baghdad and possess himself of the kingdom and slay all who should let him, having sworn not to return the sword of war to its sheath, till he had set Kanmakan on the throne. When this news came to Sasan, he was drowned in the sea of melancholy, knowing that the whole state had furled against him, great and small, and trouble and anxiety were sore on him. So he opened his treasuries and distributed that which was therein among his officers and prayed for Kanmakan's return, that he might draw his heart to him with fair usage and bounty and make him commander of those troops that remained faithful to him, hoping thus to prop his [falling] power. The news of this reached Kanmakan by the merchants; so he returned in haste to Baghdad, riding on the aforesaid stallion, and the news of his coming reached King Sasan, as he sat perplexed upon his throne; whereupon he despatched all the troops and head-men of Baghdad to meet him. So all who were in Baghdad went out to meet the Prince and escorted him to the palace and kissed the threshold, whilst the damsels and eunuchs went in to his mother and gave her the good tidings of his return. She came to him and kissed him between the eyes, but he said to her, "O my mother, let me go to my uncle King Sasan, who hath overwhelmed us with favours and benefits." Then he repaired to the palace, whilst all the people marvelled at the beauty of the stallion and said, "No king is like unto this man." So he went in to King Sasan, who rose to receive him; and Kanmakan saluted him and kissing his hands, offered him the horse as a present. The King bade him welcome, saying, "Welcome and fair welcome to my son Kanmakan! By Allah, the world hath been straitened on me by reason of thine absence, but praised be God for thy safety!" And Kanmakan called down blessings on him. Then the King looked at the stallion and knowing it for the very horse, Catoul by name, that he had seen in such and such a year, whilst at the leaguer of Constantinople with King Zoulmekan, said to Kanmakan, "I! thy father could have come by this horse, he would have bought him with a thousand chargers of price: but now let the honour return to thee who deservest it. We accept the steed and return it to thee as a gift, for thou hast more right to it than any man alive, being the prince of cavaliers." Then he bade bring forth for him dresses of honour and led horses and appointed him the chief lodging in the palace, giving him much money and showing him the utmost honour, for that he feared the issue of the Vizier Dendan's doings. At this Kanmakan rejoiced and despondency and humiliation ceased from him. Then he went to his house and said to his mother, "O my mother, how is it with my cousin?" "By Allah, O my son," answered she, "my concern for thine absence hath distracted me from any other, even to thy beloved; especially as she was the cause of thine exile and separation from me." Then he complained to her of his sufferings, saying, "O my mother, go to her and speak with her; haply she will favour me with a sight of her and dispel my anguish." "O my son," replied his mother, "idle desires abase the necks of men; so put away from thee this thought that will but lead to vexation; for I will not go to her nor carry her such a message." Thereupon he told her what he had heard from the horse-thief concerning Dhat ed Dewahi, how she was then in their land, on her way to Baghdad, and added, "It was she who slew my uncle and grandfather, and needs must I avenge them and wipe out our reproach." Then he left her and repaired to an old woman, by name Saadaneh, a cunning, perfidious and pernicious beldam, past mistress in all kinds of trickery and deceit To her he complained of what he suffered for love of his cousin Kuzia Fekan and begged her to go to her and implore her favour for him. "I hear and obey," answered the old woman and betaking herself to Kuzia Fekan's palace, interceded with her in his favour. Then she returned to him and said, "Thy cousin salutes thee and will visit thee this night at the middle hour." At this he rejoiced and sat down to await the fulfilment of his cousin's promise. At the appointed hour she came to him, wrapped in a veil of black silk, and aroused him from sleep, saying, "How canst thou pretend to love me, when thou art sleeping, heart-free, after the goodliest fashion?" So he awoke and said, "O desire of my heart, by Allah, I slept not but hoping that thine image might visit me in dreams!" Then she chid him tenderly and repeated the following verses:

Wert thou indeed a lover true and leal, Thou hadst not suffered
     slumber on thee creep.
O thou who feign'st to walk the ways of love, The watch of
     passion and desire to keep,
Son of my uncle, sure the eyes of those Who're love-distraught
     know not the taste of sleep.

When he heard his cousin's words, he was abashed before her and rose and excused himself. Then they embraced and complained to each other of the anguish of separation; and thus they did, till the dawn broke and the day flowered forth over the lands; when she rose to depart. At this, Kanmakan wept and sighed and repeated the following verses:

She came to me, after her pride had driven me to despair, She in
     whose lips the teeth as the pearls of her necklace were.
I kissed her a thousand times and clipped her close in my arms
     And lay all night with my cheek pressed close to the cheek
     of the fair;
Till the day, that must sever our loves, as 'twere the blade of a
     sword That flashes forth of its sheath, gleamed out on us
     unaware.

Then she took leave of him and returned to her palace. Now she let certain of her damsels into her secret, and one of them told the King, who went in to Kuzia Fekan and drawing his sabre upon her, would have slain her: but her mother Nuzhet ez Zeman entered and said to him, 'By Allah, do her no hurt, lest it be noised among the folk and thou become a reproach among the kings of the age! Thou knowest that Kanmakan is no base-born wretch, but a man of honour and nobility, who would not do aught that could shame him, and she was reared with him. So take patience and be not hasty; for verily the report is spread abroad, among the people of the palace and all the folk of the city, how the Vizier Dendan hath levied troops from all countries and is on his way hither to make Kanmakan king." "By Allah," said the King, "needs must I cast him into a calamity, such that neither earth shall bear him nor sky shadow him! I did but speak him fair and entreat him with favour, because of my subjects and officers, lest they should turn to him; but thou shalt see what will betide." Then he left her and went out to order the affairs of the kingdom.

Next day, Kanmakan came in to his mother and said to her, "O my mother, I am resolved to go forth a-raiding in quest of booty. I will waylay caravans and seize horses and flocks and slaves black and white, and as soon as my store is waxed great and my case is bettered, I will demand my cousin Kuzia Fekan in marriage of my uncle." "O my son," replied she, "of a truth the goods of men are not as a wastril camel, ready to thy hand; but between thee and them are sword-strokes and lance-thrusts and men that eat wild beasts and lay waste countries and snare lions and trap lynxes." Quoth he, "God forbid that I should turn from my purpose, till I have attained my desire!" Then he despatched the old woman to Kuzia Fekan, to tell her that he was about to set out in quest of a dowry befitting her, saying, "Thou must without fail bring me an answer from her." "I hear and obey," repled the old woman and going forth, presently returned with Kuzia Fekan's answer, which was that she would come to him at midnight. So he abode awake till one half of the night was past, when disquietude got hold on him, and before he was aware, she came in to him, saying, "My life be thy ransom from wakefulness!" And he sprang up to receive her, exclaiming, "O desire of my heart, my life be thy ransom from all things evil!" Then he acquainted her with his intent, and she wept; but he said, "Weep not, O my cousin; for I beseech Him who decreed our separation to vouchsafe us reunion and felicity." Then Kanmakan went in to his mother and took leave of her, after which he girt on his sword and donned turban and chin-band and mounting his horse Catoul, rode through the streets of Baghdad, till he reached the gate of the city. Here he found his comrade Subbah ben Remmah going out, who, seeing him, ran to his stirrup and saluted him. He returned his greeting, and Subbah said to him, "O my brother, how camest thou by this steed and sword and clothes, whilst I up to now have gotten nothing but my sword and target?" Quoth Kanmakan, "The hunter returns not but with game after the measure of his intent. A little after thy departure, fortune came to me: so now wilt thou go with me and work thine intent in my company and journey with me in this desert?" "By the Lord of the Kaabeh," replied Subbah, "from this time forth I will call thee nought but 'My lord!'" Then he ran on before the horse with his sword hanging from his neck and his budget between his shoulder-blades, and they pushed on into the desert four days' space, eating of the gazelles they caught and drinking of the water of the springs. On the fifth day, they came in sight of a high hill, at whose foot was a Spring encampment and a running stream. The knolls and hollows were filled with camels and oxen and sheep and horses, and little children played about the cattle-folds. When Kanmakan saw this, he was right glad and his breast was filled with joy; so he addressed himself to battle, that he might take the camels and the cattle, and said to Subbah, "Come, let us fall upon this good, whose owners have left it unguarded, and do battle for it with near and far, so haply it may fall to our lot and we will share it between us." "O my lord," replied Subbah, "verily they to whom these herds belong are much people, and among them are doughty horsemen and footmen. If we cast ourselves into this great danger, neither of us will return to his people; but we shall both be cut off utterly and leave our cousins desolate." When Kanmakan heard this, he laughed and knew that he was a coward: so he left him and rode down the hill, intent on rapine, shouting and chanting aloud the following verses:

O the house of En Numan is mickle of might! We're the champions
     with swords on the squadrons that smite!
When the fury of battle flames high in our hearts, We're aye to
     be found in the front of the fight.
The poor man amongst us may slumber secure Nor see the foul
     favour of want or upright.
I hope for the succour of Him in whose hand Is the Kingdom, the
     Maker of body and spright.

Then he rushed upon the cattle, like a camel in heat, and drove them all, oxen and sheep and horses and camels, before him. Therewith the slaves ran at him with their bright swords and their long lances; and at their head was a Turkish horseman, a stout champion, doughty in battle and onset and skilled to wield the tawny spear and the white sabre. He drove at Kanmakan, saying, "Out on thee! Knewest thou to whom these cattle belong, thou hadst not done this thing! Know that they are the good of the Greek band, the champions of the sea and the Circassian troop, and they are a hundred cavaliers, all stern warriors, who have forsworn the commandment of all kings. There has been stolen from them a steed of great price, and they have vowed not to return hence, but with it." When Kanmakan heard these words, he cried out, saying, "O losers, this that I bestride is the steed itself, after which ye seek and for whose sake ye would do battle with me! So come out against me, all of you at once, and do your dourest!" So saying, he cried out between Catoul's ears and he ran at them, as he were a ghoul. Then Kanmakan drove at the Turk and smote him and overthrew him and let out his life; after which he turned upon a second and a third and a fourth and bereft them also of life. When the slaves saw this, they were afraid of him, and he cried out and said to them, "Ho, sons of whores, drive out the cattle and the horses, or I will dye my spear in your blood!" So they untethered the cattle and began to drive them out, and Subbah came down to Kanmakan, crying out with a loud voice and rejoicing greatly; when, behold, there arose a cloud of dust and grew till it covered the prospect, and there appeared under it a hundred cavaliers, like fierce lions. With this Subbah fled up on to the hill, that he might gaze upon the fight in safety, saying, "I am no warrior but in sport and jest." Then the hundred cavaliers made towards Kanmakan from all sides, and one of them accosted him, saying, "Whither goest thou with this good?" "I have made prize of them," replied he, "and am carrying them away; and I forbid you from them, for know that he who is before you is a terrible lion and an illustrious champion and a sword that cuts wherever it turns!" When the horseman heard this, he looked at Kanmakan and saw that he was a cavalier as he were a strong lion, whilst his face was as the full moon rising on its fourteenth night, and valour shone from between his eyes. Now this horseman was the chief of the hundred horse, and his name was Kehrdash; and what he saw in Kanmakan of the perfection of martial grace, together with surpassing beauty and comeliness, reminded him of a mistress of his, by name Fatin. Now this Fatin was one of the fairest of women in face, for God had given her beauty and grace and charms and noble qualities of all kinds, such as the tongue fails to describe. Moreover, the cavaliers of the tribe feared her prowess and the champions of the land stood in awe of her, and she had sworn that she would not marry nor give any possession of her, except he should conquer her, saying to her father, "None shall approach me, except he master me in the field and the stead of war." Kehrdash was one of her suitors, and when the news reached him of the vow she had taken, he thought scorn to fight with a girl, fearing reproach; and one of his friends said to him, "Thou art accomplished in beauty and manly qualities; so if thou contend with her, even though she be stronger than thou, thou must needs overcome her, for when she sees thy beauty and grace, she will be discomfited before thee, seeing that women by nature incline unto men, as is not unknown to thee." Nevertheless he refused and would not contend with her, albeit indeed she loved him, for what she had heard of his beauty and velour: and he ceased not to abstain from her thus, till he met with Kanmakan, as hath been set down. Now he took the prince for his beloved Fatin and was afraid; so he went up to him and said, "Out on thee, O Fatin! Thou comest to show me thy prowess; but now alight from thy steed, that I may talk with thee, for I have driven off these cattle and waylaid horsemen and champions, all for the sake of thy beauty and grace, which are without peer. So now thou shalt marry me, that kings' daughters may wait on thee, and thou shalt become queen of these countries." When Kanmakan heard this, the fires of wrath flamed up in him and he cried out, saying, "Out on thee, O dog of the barbarians! Leave thy raving of Fatin and come to cutting and thrusting, for eftsoon thou shalt lie in the dust." So saying, he began to wheel about him and offer battle. Then Kehrdash observed him more closely and saw that he was indeed a doughty knight and a stalwart champion; and the error of his thought was manifest to him, whenas he saw the tender down that adorned his cheeks, as it were myrtles springing from the heart of a red rose. And he feared his onslaught and said to those that were with him, "Out on you! Let one of you attack him and show him the keen sword and the quivering spear; for know that for a company to do battle with one man is foul shame, even though he be a doughty man of war and an invincible champion." With this, there ran at Kanmakan a lion-like horseman, mounted on a black horse with white feet and a star on his forehead, the bigness of a dirhem, astounding sight and wit, as he were Abjer, that was Antar's steed: even as saith of him the poet:

See, where the stallion yonder comes, that with a fierce delight
     Drives to the battle, mingling earth with heaven in his
     might.
Meseems, the morning smote his brow and to avenge himself
     Thereon, he plunges straight and deep into its heart of
     light.

He rushed upon Kanmakan, who met him in mid-career, and they wheeled about awhile in the dint of battle, exchanging blows such as confound the wit and dim the sight, till Kanmakan took the other at vantage and smote him a swashing blow, that shore through turban and iron skull-cap and reached his head, and he fell from his saddle, as a camel falls, when he rolls over. Then a second came out to him and a third and a fourth and a fifth, and he did with them all as he had done with the first. Thereupon the rest rushed upon him, all at once, for indeed they were wild with rage and concern; but it was not long before he had transfixed them all with the point of his lance. When Kehrdash saw his feats of arms, he knew that he was stout of heart and concluded that he was the phoenix of the champions and heroes of the age: so he feared death and said to Kanmakan, "I give thee thy life and pardon thee the blood of my comrades, for I have compassion on thee by reason of thy fair youth. So take what thou wilt of the cattle and go thy ways, for life is better for thee [than death]." "Thou lackest not of the generosity of the noble,"[FN#156] replied Kanmakan; "but leave this talk and flee for thy life and reck not of blame nor think to get back the booty; but take the straight path for thine own safety." When Kehrdash heard this, he waxed exceeding wroth and his anger moved him to that which was the cause of his death; so he said to Kanmakan, "Out on thee! Knewest thou who I am, thou wouldst not talk thus in the open field. I am the doughty lion known as Kehrdash, he who despoils great kings and waylays all the travellers and seizes the merchants' goods. Yonder steed under thee is what I am seeking and I call upon thee to tell me how thou camest by it." "Know," replied Kanmakan, "that this steed was being carried to my uncle King Sasan in the company of a certain old woman, attended by ten slaves, when thou fellest upon her and tookest the horse from her; and I have a debt of blood against this old woman for the sake of my grandfather King Omar ben Ennuman and my uncle King Sherkan." "Out on thee!" said Kehrdash. "Who is thy father, O thou that hast no (known) mother?" "Know," answered the prince, "that I am Kanmakan, son of Zoulmekan, son of Omar ben Ennuman." Quoth Kehrdash, "Thy perfection cannot be denied, nor yet the union in thee of martial virtue and comeliness: but go in peace, for thy father showed us favour and bounty." "By Allah, O vile wretch," rejoined Kanmakan, "I will not so far honour thee as to overcome thee in the open field!" At this the Bedouin was wroth and they drove at one another, shouting aloud, whilst their horses pricked up their ears and raised their tails. They clashed together with such a dint, that it seemed to each as if the heavens were split in sunder, and strove like two butting rams, smiting one another with thick-coming spear-strokes. Presently, Kehrdash aimed a blow at Kanmakan; but he evaded it and turning upon the brigand, smote him in the breast, that the head of the spear issued from his back. Then he collected the horses and cattle and cried out to the slaves, saying, "Up and drive them off briskly!" With this down came Subbah and accosting Kanmakan, said to him, "Thou hast quitted thee right well, O hero of the age! I prayed God for thee and He heard my prayer." Then he cut off Kehrdash's head and Kanmakan laughed and said, "Out on thee, Subbah! I thought thee a man of valour." Quoth the Bedouin, "Forget not thy slave in the division of the spoil, so haply I may win therewith to marry my cousin Nejmeh." "Thou shalt surely have a share in it," answered Kanmakan, "but now keep watch over the booty and the slaves." Then they set out and journeyed night and day till they drew near Baghdad, and all the troops heard of Kanmakan and saw the booty and the brigand's head on the point of Subbah's spear. Moreover, the merchants knew Kehrdash's head and rejoiced, for he was a noted highwayman, saying, "Allah hath rid mankind of him!" And they marvelled at his death and called down blessings on his slayer. Then all the people of Baghdad came to Kanmakan, seeking to know what had befallen him, and he told them what had passed, whereupon they were taken with awe of him and all the champions and men of war feared him. After this, he drove his spoil to the palace and planting the spear, on which was Kehrdash's head, before the gate, gave largesse to the people of camels and horses so that they loved him and all hearts inclined to him. Then he took Subbah and lodged him in a spacious dwelling, giving him part of the booty; after which he went in to his mother and told her all that had befallen him. Meanwhile the news of him reached the King, who rose and shutting himself up with his chief officers, said to them, "I wish to reveal to you my secret and acquaint you with the truth of my case. Know that Kanmakan will be the cause of our expulsion from the kingdom; for he has slain Kehrdash, albeit he had with him the tribes of the Turks and the Kurds, and our affair with him will assuredly result in our destruction, seeing that the most part of our troops are his kinsmen and ye know what the Vizier Dendan hath done; how he refuses to recognize me, after all the favours I have done him, and is become a traitor to his faith. Indeed, it has come to my knowledge that he hath levied an army in the provinces and goeth about to make Kanmakan king, for that the kingdom was his father's and his grandfather's before him, and he will surely slay me without mercy." When they heard this, they replied, "O King, verily he[FN#157] is unequal to this, and did we not know him to have been reared by thee, not one of us would take thought to him. We are at thy commandment; if thou wilt have us slay him, we will do so, and if thou wilt have him kept at a distance, we will chase him away." When King Sasan heard this, he said, "Verily, it were wise to slay him: but needs must ye take an oath of it." So they all pledged themselves to kill him, to the intent that, when the Vizier Dendan came and heard of his death, his might should be weakened and fail of that which he designed to do. When they had made this compact with him, the King bestowed great gifts upon them and dismissing them, retired to his own apartments. Now the troops refused their service, awaiting what should befall, for they saw that the most part of the army was with the Vizier Dendan. Presently, the news of these things came to Kuzia Fekan and caused her much concern; so that she sent for the old woman, who was wont to carry messages between her and her cousin, and bade her go to him and warn him of the plot against his life. Accordingly, she repaired to Kanmakan and gave him the princess's message, to which he replied, "Bear my cousin my salutation and say to her, 'The earth is God's (to whom belong might and majesty), and He maketh whom He willeth of His servants to inherit it. How excellent is the saying of the poet:

The kingship is God's alone, and him who would fain fulfil His
     wishes He driveth away and maketh him rue for his ill.
Had I or another than I a handsbreadth of earth to my own, The
     Godship were sundered in twain and two were the Power and
     the Will.'"

The old woman returned to Kuzia Fekan with Kanmakan's reply and told her that he abode in the city. Meanwhile, King Sasan awaited his going forth from Baghdad, that he might send after him and kill him; till, one day, it befell that Kanmakan went out to hunt, accompanied by Subbah, who would not leave him day or night. He caught ten gazelles and among them one that had soft black eyes and turned right and left; so he let her go, and Subbah said to him, "Why didst thou let her go?" Kanmakan laughed and set the others free also, saying, "It behoves us, of humanity, to release gazelles that have young, and this one only turned from side to side, to look for her young ones: so I let her go and released the others in her honour." Quoth Subbah, "Do thou release me, that I may go to my people." At this Kanmakan laughed and smote him on the breast with the butt of his spear, and he fell to the ground, writhing like a serpent. Whilst they were thus occupied, they saw cloud of dust and heard the tramp of horse; and presently there appeared a troop of armed cavaliers. Now King Sasan had heard of Kanmakan's going out and sending for an Amir of the Medes, called Jami, and twenty men, had given them money and bidden them slay Kanmakan. So, when they drew near the prince, they rushed at him and he met them in mid-career and killed them all, to the last man. Meanwhile the King took horse and riding out to meet his men, found them all slain, whereat he wondered and turned back; but the people of the city laid hands on him and bound him straitly. As for Kanmakan, he left that place behind him and rode onward with Subbah. As he went, he saw a youth sitting at the door of a house in his road and saluted him. The youth returned his greeting and going into the house, brought out two platters, one full of milk and the other of brewis swimming in (clarified) butter, which he set before Kanmakan, saying, "Favour me by eating of my victual." But he refused and the young man said to him, "What ails thee, O man, that thou wilt not eat?" "I have a vow upon me," replied the prince. "What is the cause of thy vow?" asked the youth, and Kanmakan answered, "Know that King Sasan seized upon my kingdom wrongfully and oppressively, albeit it was my father's and my grandfather's before me; yet he laid hands upon the throne by force, after my father's death, and took no count of me, for that I was of tender years. So I have bound myself by a vow to eat no man's victual, till I have eased my heart of my enemy." "Rejoice," rejoined the youth, "for God hath fulfilled thy vow. Know that he is in prison and methinks he will soon die." "In what house is he imprisoned?" asked Kanmakan. "In yonder high pavilion," answered the other. The prince looked and saw the folk entering and buffeting Sasan, who was suffering the agonies of death. So he went up to the pavilion and noted what was therein; after which he returned to his place and sitting down to meat, ate what sufficed him and put the rest in his budget. Then he waited till it was dark night. And the youth, whose guest he was, slept; when he rose and repaired to the pavilion in which Sasan was confined. Now about it were dogs, guarding it, and one of them ran at him; so he took out of his wallet a piece of meat and threw it to him. He ceased not to do thus, till he came to the pavilion and making his way to the place where Sasan was, laid his hand upon his head; whereupon he said in a loud voice, "Who art thou?" "I am Kanmakan," replied the prince, "whom thou wentest about to kill; but God made thee fall into the evil thyself hadst devised. Did it not suffice thee to take my kingdom and that of my father, but thou must go about to kill me?" And Sasan swore a vain oath that he had not plotted his death and that the report was untrue. So Kanmakan forgave him and said to him, "Follow me." Quoth he, "I cannot walk a single step for weakness." "If the case be thus," replied Kanmakan, "we will get us two horses and ride forth and seek the open country." So they took horse and rode till daybreak, when they prayed the morning-prayer and fared on till they came to a garden, where they sat down and talked awhile. Then Kanmakan rose and said to Sasan, "Is there aught of bitterness left in thy heart against me?" "No, by Allah!" replied Sasan. So they agreed to return to Baghdad and Subbah the Bedouin said, "I will go on before you, to give the folk notice of your coming." Then he rode on in advance, acquainting men and women with the news; so all the people came out to meet Kanmakan with tabrets and flutes; and Kuzia Fekan also came out, like the full moon shining in all her splendour in the thick darkness of the night. Kanmakan met her, and their hearts yearned each to each and their bodies longed one for the other. There was no talk among the people of the time but of Kanmakan; for the cavaliers bore witness of him that he was the most valiant of the folk of the age and said, "It is not just that other than he should be King over us; but the throne of his grandfather shall revert to him as it was." Meanwhile King Sasan went in to his wife Nuzhet ez Zeman, who said to him, "I hear that the folk talk of nothing but Kanmakan and attribute to him such qualities as beggar description." "Hearing is not like seeing," replied the King; "I have seen him, but have noted in him not one of the attributes of perfection. Not all that is heard is said; but the folk ape one another in extolling and cherishing him, and God makes his praise to run on the lips of men, so that there incline to him the hearts of the people of Baghdad and of the perfidious traitor the Vizier Dendan, who has levied troops from all countries and arrogates to himself the right of naming a king of the country and chooses that it shall be under the hand of a worthless orphan." "What then dost thou purpose to do?" asked Nuzhet ez Zeman. "I mean to kill him," replied the King, "that the Vizier may be baulked of his intent and return to his allegiance to me, seeing nothing for it but my service." Quoth she, "Perfidy is a foul thing with strangers, and how much more with kinsfolk? Thou wouldst do better to marry him to thy daughter Kuzia Fekan and give heed to what was said of old time:

If Fate set over thee a man, though thou than he Be worthier and
     this be grievous unto thee,
Yield him the honour due to his estate; thou'lt find He will
     advantage thee, though near or far thou be.
Speak not thy thought of him; else wilt thou be of those Who of
     their own accord the way of weal do flee.
Many in the harem oft are brighter than the bride; But time is on
     her side, and opportunity."

When Sasan heard this, he rose in anger and said to her, "Were it not that to kill thee would bring disgrace and reproach on me, I would take off thy head with my sword and make an end of thee." Quoth she, "I did but jest with thee." And rose and kissed his head and hands, saying, "Thou art right, and we will cast about for some means to kill him." When he heard this, he was glad and said, "Make haste and contrive some device to relieve me of my affliction; for I am at my wit's end." Said she, "I will make shift to do away his life for thee." "How so?" asked he; and she answered, "By means of our female slave Bakoun." Now this Bakoun was past mistress in all kinds of knavery and was one of the most pernicious of old women, in whose religion it was not lawful to abstain from wickedness; she had brought up Kanmakan and Kuzia Fekan, and the former had her in so great affection, that he was wont to sleep at her feet. So when King Sasan heard his wife name her, he said, "This is a good counsel," and sending for the old woman, told her what had passed and bade go about to kill Kanmakan, promising her all good. "O my lord," replied she, "thy commandment shall be done: but I would have thee give me a dagger that has been tempered in water of dearth,[FN#158] that I may despatch him the quicklier for thee." "So be it," said Sasan and gave her a knife that would well-nigh forego destiny. Now this woman had heard stories and verses and committed to memory great store of witty traits and anecdotes: so she took the dagger and went out, considering how she should compass Kanmakan's destruction. Then she repaired to the prince, whom she found sitting awaiting [the coming of a messenger with] his cousin's tryst; so that night his thought was taken up with Kuzia Fekan and the fires of love for her raged in his heart. Bakoun went in to him, saying, "The time of union is at hand and the days of separation are over and gone." When he heard this, he said, "How is it with Kuzia Fekan?" And she answered, "Know that she is distraught for love of thee." At this he rose and taking off his [upper] clothes, put them on her and promised her all good. Then said she, "Know that I mean to pass this night with thee, that I may repeat to thee what talk I have heard and divert thee with tales of many a slave of love, whom passion hath made sick." Quoth he, "Tell me a story, that will gladden my heart and dispel my cares." "With all my heart," answered she and sitting down beside him, with the dagger under her clothes, began thus, "The pleasantest thing I ever heard was as follows:

Bakoun's Story of the Hashish-eater.

A certain man loved the fair and spent his substance on them, till he became a beggar and used to go about the streets and markets, seeking his bread. One day, as he went along, a splinter of iron pierced his finger and made it bleed; so he sat down and wiping away the blood, bound up his finger. Then he went on, crying out, till he came to a bath, and entering found it clean (and empty). So he took off his clothes and sitting down by the basin, fell to pouring water on his head, till he was tired, when he went out to the room in which was the tank of cold water. Finding none there, he shut himself up [in a cabinet] and taking out a piece of hashish, swallowed it. The fumes of the drug spread through his brain and he rolled over on to the marble floor. Then the hashish made it appear to him as if a great lord were kneading him and as if two slaves stood at his head, one bearing a bowl and the other washing gear and all the requisites of the bath. When he saw this, he said to himself, 'Meseems these are mistaken in me; or else they are of the company of us hashish-eaters.' Then he stretched out his legs and it seemed to him that the bathman said to him, 'O my lord, the time of thy going forth draws near and it is to-day thy turn of service (at the palace).' At this he laughed and said, 'As God wills, O hashish!' Then he sat and said nothing, whilst the bathman took him by the hand and raising him up, girt his middle with a waist-cloth of black silk, after which the two slaves followed him, with the bowls and implements, till they brought him into a cabinet, wherein they set perfumes burning. He found the place full of various kinds of fruits and sweet-scented flowers, and they cut him a melon and seated him on a stool of ebony, whilst the bathman stood to wash him and the slaves poured water on him; after which they rubbed him down well and said, 'O our lord the Vizier, may the bath profit thee and mayst thou come to delight everlasting!' Then they went out and shut the door on him; and he took up the waist-cloth and laughed till he well-nigh lost his senses. He gave not over laughing for some time and saying to himself, 'What ails them to bespeak me as if I were a Vizier and style me "Master" and "our lord"? Surely they are dreaming now; but presently they will know me and say, "This fellow is a beggar," and take their fill of cuffing me on the nape of the neck.' Presently, he felt hot and opened the door, whereupon it seemed to him that a little white slave and an eunuch entered, carrying a parcel. The slave opened the parcel and brought out three kerchiefs of silk, one of which he threw over his head, a second over his shoulders, and a third he tied round his waist. Moreover, the eunuch gave him a pair of bath-clogs, and he put them on; after which in came eunuchs and slaves and supported him, laughing the while, to the outer hall, which he found hung and spread with magnificent furniture, such as beseems none but kings; and the pages hastened up to him and seated him on the divan. Then they fell to kneading him, till sleep overcame him and he dreamt that he had a girl in his arms. So he kissed her and set her between his thighs; then, clipping her as a man clips a woman, took his yard in his hand and was about to have at her, when he heard one saying to him, 'Awake, thou good-for-nought! The hour of noon is come and thou art still asleep.' He opened his eyes and found himself lying on the merge of the cold-water tank, with a crowd of people about him, laughing at him; for the napkin was fallen from his middle and discovered his yard in point. So he knew that all this was but an imbroglio of dreams and an illusion of hashish and was vexed and said to him who had aroused him, 'Would thou hadst waited till I had put it in!' Then said the folk, 'Art thou not ashamed, O hashish-eater, and thou lying asleep and naked, with thy yard on end?' And they cuffed him, till the nape of his neck was red. Now he was starving, yet had he tasted the savour of delight in sleep."

When Kanmakan heard this story, he laughed till he fell backward and said to Bakoun, "O my nurse, this is indeed a rare story; I never heard its like. Hast thou any more?" "Yes," answered she and went on to tell him diverting stories and laughable anecdotes, till sleep overcame him. Then she sat by him till the most part of the night was past, when she said to herself, "It is time to profit by the occasion." So she unsheathed the dagger and drawing near to Kanmakan, was about to slaughter him, when, behold, in came his mother. When Bakoun saw her, she rose to meet her, and fear got hold on her and she fell a-trembling, as if she had the ague. The princess mother marvelled to see her thus and aroused her son, who awoke and found her sitting at his head. Now the reason of her coming was that Kuzia Fekan heard of the plot to kill Kanmakan and said to his mother, "O wife of my uncle, go to thy son, ere that wicked baggage Bakoun kill him." And she told her what had passed, from beginning to end. So she rose at once and stayed not for aught, till she came to her son's lodgings, just as Bakoun was about to slay him. When he awoke, he said to his mother, "O my mother, indeed thou comest at a good time, for my nurse Bakoun has been with me this night." Then he turned to Bakoun and said to her, "My life on thee, knowest thou any story better than those thou hast told me?" "What I have told thee," answered she, "is nothing to what I will tell thee; but that must be for another time." Then she rose to go, hardly believing that she should escape with her life, for she perceived of her cunning that his mother knew what was toward; and he said, "Go in peace." So she went her way, and his mother said to him, "O my son, blessed be this night, wherein God the Most High hath delivered thee from this accursed woman!" "How so?" asked he, and she told him the whole story. "O my mother," said he, "whoso is fated to live finds no slayer; nor, though he be slain, will he die; but now it were wise that we depart from amongst these enemies and let God do what He will." So, as soon as it was day, he left the city and joined the Vizier Dendan, and certain things befell between King Sasan and Nuzhet ez Zeman, which caused her also to leave the city and join herself to Kanmakan and Dendan, as did likewise such of the King's officers as inclined to their party. Then they took counsel together what they should do and agreed to make an expedition into the land of the Greeks and take their revenge for the death of King Omar ben Ennuman and his son Sherkan. So they set out with this intent and after adventures which it were tedious to set out, but the drift of which will appear from what follows, they fell into the hands of Rumzan, King of the Greeks. Next morning, King Rumzan caused Dendan and Kanmakan and their company to be brought before him and seating them at his side, bade spread the tables of food. So they ate and drank and took heart of grace, after having made sure of death, for that, when they were summoned to the King's presence, they said to one another, "He has not sent for us but to put us to death." Then said the King, "I have had a dream, which I related to the monks and they said, 'None can expound it to thee but the Vizier Dendan.'" "And what didst thou see in thy dream, O King of the age?" asked Dendan. "I dreamt," answered the King, "that I was in a pit, as it were a black well, where meseemed folk were tormenting me; and I would have risen, but fell on my feet and could not get out of the pit. Then I turned and saw on the ground a girdle of gold and put out my hand to take it; but when I raised it from the ground, I saw it was two girdles. So I girt my middle with them, and behold, they became one girdle; and this, O Vizier, is my dream and what I saw in sleep." "O our lord the Sultan," said Dendan, "this thy dream denotes that thou hast a brother or a brother's son or an uncle's son or other near kinsman of thy flesh and blood [of whom thou knowest not]." When the King heard this, he looked at Kanmakan and Dendan and Nuzhet ez Zeman and Kuzia Fekan and the rest of the captives and said in himself, "If I cut off these people's heads, their troops will lose heart for the loss of their chiefs and I shall be able to return speedily to my realm, lest the kingdom pass out of my hands." So he called the headsman and bade him strike off Kanmakan's head, when behold, up came Rumzan's nurse and said to him, "O august King, what wilt thou do?" Quoth he, "I mean to put these captives to death and throw their heads among their troops; after which I will fall upon them, I and all my men, and kill all we may and put the rest to the rout; so will this be the end of the war and I shall return speedily to my kingdom, ere aught befall among my subjects."

When the nurse heard this, she came up to him and said in the Frank tongue, "How canst thou slay thine own brother's son and thy sister and thy sister's daughter?" When he heard this, he was exceeding angry and said to her, "O accursed woman, didst thou not tell me that my mother was murdered and that my father died by poison? Didst thou not give me a jewel and say to me, 'This jewel was thy father's'? Why didst thou not tell me the truth?" "All that I told thee is true," replied she: "but thy case and my own are wonderful and thine and my history extraordinary. My name is Merjaneh and thy mother's name was Abrizeh. She was gifted with such beauty and grace and valour that proverbs were made of her, and her prowess was renowned among men of war. Thy father was King Omar ben Ennuman, lord of Baghdad and Khorassan. He sent his son Sherkan on an expedition, in company with this very Vizier Dendan; and Sherkan thy brother separated himself from the troops and fell in with thy mother Queen Abrizeh, in a privy garden of her palace, whither we had resorted to wrestle, she and I and her other damsels. He came on us by chance and wrestled with thy mother, who overcame him by the splendour of her beauty and her valour. Then she entertained him five days in her palace, till the news of this came to her father, by the old woman Shewahi, surnamed Dhat ed Dewahi, whereupon she embraced Islam at Sherkan's hands and he carried her by stealth to Baghdad, and with her myself and Rihaneh and other twenty damsels. When we came to thy father's presence, he fell in love with thy mother and going in to her one night, foregathered with her, and she became with child by him of thee. Now thy mother had three jewels, which she gave to thy father, and he gave one of them to his daughter Nuzhet ez Zeman, another to thy brother Zoulmekan and the third to thy brother Sherkan. This last thy mother took from Sherkan, and I kept it for thee. When the time of the princess's delivery drew near, she yearned after her own people and discovered her secret to me; so I went privily to a black slave called Ghezban and telling him our case, bribed him to go with us. Accordingly, he took us and fled forth the city with us by stealth towards the land of the Greeks, till we came to a desert place on the borders of our own country. Here the pangs of labour came upon thy mother, and the slave, being moved by lust, sought of her a shameful thing; whereat she cried out loudly and was sore affrighted at him. In the excess of her alarm, she gave birth to thee at once, and at this moment there arose, in the direction of our country, a cloud of dust which spread till it covered the plain. At this sight, the slave feared for his life; so, in his rage, he smote Queen Abrizeh with his sword and slew her, then, mounting his horse, went his way. Presently, the dust lifted and discovered thy grandfather, King Herdoub, who, seeing thy mother his daughter dead on the ground, was sorely troubled and questioned me of the manner of her death and why she had left her father's kingdom. So I told him all that had happened, first and last; and this is the cause of the feud between the people of the land of the Greeks and the people of Baghdad. Then we took up thy dead mother and buried her; and I took thee and reared thee, and hung this jewel about thy neck. But, when thou camest to man's estate, I dared not acquaint thee with the truth of the matter, lest it should stir up a war of revenge between you. Moreover, thy grandfather had enjoined me to secrecy, and I could not gainsay the commandment of thy mother's father, Herdoub, King of the Greeks. This, then, is why I forbore to tell thee that thy father was King Omar ben Ennuman; but, when thou camest to the throne, I told thee [what thou knowest]; and the rest I could not reveal to thee till this moment. So now, O King of the age, I have discovered to thee my secret and have acquainted thee with all that I know of the matter; and thou knowest best what is in thy mind." When Nuzhet ez Zeman heard what the King's nurse said, she cried out, saying, "This King Rumzan is my brother by my father King Omar ben Ennuman, and his mother was the Princess Abrizeh, daughter of Herdoub, King of the Greeks; and I know this damsel Merjaneh right well." With this, trouble and perplexity got hold upon Rumzan and he caused Nuzhet ez Zeman to be brought up to him forthright. When he looked upon her, blood drew to blood and he questioned her of his history. So she told me all she knew, and her story tallied with that of his nurse; whereupon he was assured that he was indeed of the people of Irak and that King Omar ben Ennuman was his father. So he caused his sister to be unbound, and she came up to him and kissed his hands, whilst her eyes ran over with tears. He wept also to see her weeping, and brotherly love entered into him and his heart yearned to his brother's son Kanmakan. So he sprang to his feet and taking the sword from the headsman's hands, bade bring the captives up to him. At this, they made sure of death; but he cut their bonds with the sword and said to Merjaneh, "Explain the matter to them, even as thou hast explained it to me." "O King," replied she, "know that this old man is the Vizier Dendan and he is the best of witnesses to my story, seeing that he knows the truth of the case." Then she turned to the captives and repeated the whole story to them and to the princes of the Greeks and the Franks who were present with them, and they all confirmed her words. When she had finished, chancing to look at Kanmakan, she saw on his neck the fellow jewel to that which she had hung round King Rumzan's neck, whereupon she gave such a cry, that the whole palace rang again, and said to the King, "Know, O my son, that now my certainty is still more assured, for the jewel that is about the neck of yonder captive is the fellow to that I hung to thy neck, and this is indeed thy brother's son Kanmakan." Then she turned to Kanmakan and said to him, "O King of the age, let me see that jewel." So he took it from his neck and gave it to her. Then she asked Nuzhet ez Zeman of the third jewel and she gave it to her, whereupon she delivered the two to King Rumzan, and the truth of the matter was made manifest to him and he was assured that he was indeed Prince Kanmakan's uncle and that his father was King Omar ben Ennuman. So he rose at once and going up to the Vizier Dendan, embraced him; then he embraced Prince Kanmakan, and they cried aloud for very gladness. The joyful news was blazed abroad and they beat the drums and cymbals, whilst the flutes sounded and the people held high festival. The army of Irak and Syria heard the clamour of rejoicing among the Greeks; so they mounted, all of them, and King Ziblcan also took horse, saying in himself, "What can be the cause of this clamour and rejoicing in the army of the Franks?" Then the Muslim troops made ready for fight and advancing into the field, drew out in battle array. Presently, King Rumzan turned and seeing the army deployed in battalia, enquired the reason and was told the state of the case; so he bade Kuzia Fekan return at once to the Muslim troops and acquaint them with the accord that had betided and how it was come to light that he was Kanmakan's uncle. So she set out, putting away from her sorrows and troubles, and stayed not till she came to King Ziblcan, whom she found tearful-eyed, fearing for the captive chiefs and princes. She saluted him and told him all that had passed, whereat the Muslims' grief was turned to gladness. Then he and all his officers took horse and followed the princess to the pavilion of King Rumzan, whom they found sitting with his nephew, Prince Kanmakan. Now they had taken counsel with the Vizier Dendan concerning King Ziblcan and had agreed to commit to his charge the city of Damascus of Syria and leave him king over it as before, whilst themselves entered Irak. Accordingly, they confirmed him in the viceroyalty of Damascus and bade him set out at once for his government, so he departed with his troops and they rode with him a part of the way, to bid him farewell. Then they returned and gave orders for departure, whereupon the two armies united and King Rumzan and his nephew set out, surrounded by their nobles and grandees. And indeed Kanmakan rejoiced in his uncle King Rumzan and called down blessings on the nurse Merjaneh, who had made them known to each other; but the two Kings said to one another, "Our hearts will never be at rest nor our wrath appeased, till we have taken our wreak of the old woman Shewahi, surnamed Dhat ed Dewahi, and wiped out the blot upon our honour." So they fared on till they drew near Baghdad, and Sasan, hearing of their approach, came out to meet them and kissed the hand of the King of the Greeks, who bestowed on him a dress of honour. Then King Rumzan sat down on the throne and seated his nephew at his side, who said to him, "O my uncle, this kingdom befits none but thee." "God forbid," replied Rumzan, "that I should supplant thee in thy kingdom!" So the Vizier Dendan counselled them to share the throne between them, ruling each one day in turn, and they agreed to this. Then they made feasts and offered sacrifices and held high festival, whilst King Kanmakan spent his nights with his cousin Kuzia Fekan; and they abode thus awhile.

One day, as the two Kings sat, rejoicing in the happy ending of their troubles, they saw a cloud of dust arise and up came a merchant, who ran to them, shrieking and crying out for succour. "O Kings of the age," said he, "how comes it that I was in safety in the country of the infidels and am plundered in your realm, what though it be a land of peace and justice?" King Rumzan questioned him of his case, and he replied, "I am a merchant, who have been nigh a score of years absent from my native land, travelling in far countries; and I have a patent of exemption from Damascus, which the late Viceroy King Sherkan wrote me, for that I had made him gift of a slave-girl. Now I was returning to Irak, having with me a hundred loads of rarities of Ind; but, as I drew near Baghdad, the seat of your sovereignty and the abiding-place of your peace and your justice, there came out upon me Bedouins and Kurds banded together from all parts, who slew my men and robbed me of all my goods. This is what hath befallen me." Then he wept and bemoaned himself before the two Kings, who took compassion on him and swore that they would sally out upon the thieves. So they set out with a hundred horse, each reckoned worth thousands of men, and the merchant went before them, to guide them in the right way. They fared on all that day and the following night till daybreak, when they came to a valley abounding in streams and trees. Here they found the bandits dispersed about the valley, having divided the treasure between them; but there was yet some of it left. So they fell upon them and surrounded them on all sides, nor was it long before they made prize of them all, to the number of near three hundred horsemen, banded together of the scourings of the Arabs. They bound them all, and taking what they could find of the merchant's goods, returned to Baghdad, where the two Kings sat down upon one throne and passing the prisoners in review before them, questioned them of their condition and their chiefs. So they pointed out to them three men and said, "These are our only chiefs, and it was they who gathered us together from all parts and countries." The Kings bade lay on these three and set the rest free, after taking from them all the goods in their possession and giving them to the merchant, who examined them and found that a fourth of his stock was missing. The two Kings engaged to make good his loss, whereupon he pulled out two letters, one in the handwriting of Sherkan and the other in that of Nuzhet ez Zeman; for this was the very merchant who had bought Nuzhet ez Zeman of the Bedouin, as hath been before set forth. Kanmakan examined the letters and recognized the handwriting of his uncle Sherkan and his aunt Nuzhet ez Zeman; then (for that he knew the latter's history) he went in to her with that which she had written and told her the merchant's story. She knew her own handwriting and recognizing the merchant, despatched to him guest-gifts (of victual and what not) and commended him to her brother and nephew, who ordered him gifts of money and slaves and servants to wait on him, besides which the princess sent him a hundred thousand dirhems in money and fifty loads of merchandise, together with other rich presents. Then she sent for him and made herself known to him, whereat he rejoiced greatly and kissed her hands, giving her joy of her safety and union with her brother and thanking her for her bounty: and he said to her, "By Allah, a good deed is not lost upon thee!" Then she withdrew to her own apartment and the merchant sojourned with them three days, after which he took leave of them and set out to return to Damascus. After this, the two Kings sent for the three robber-chiefs and questioned them of their condition, whereupon one of them came forward and said, "Know that I am a Bedouin, who use to lie in wait, by the way, to steal children and virgin girls and sell them to merchants; and this I did for many a year until these latter days, when Satan incited me to join these two gallows-birds in gathering together all the riff-raff of the Arabs and other peoples, that we might waylay merchants and plunder caravans." Said the two Kings, "Tell us the rarest of the adventures that have befallen thee in kidnapping children and girls." "O Kings of the age," replied he, "the strangest thing that ever happened to me was as follows. Two-and-twenty years ago, being at Jerusalem, I saw a girl come out of the khan, who was possessed of beauty and grace, albeit she was but a servant and was clad in worn clothes, with a piece of camel-cloth on her head; so I entrapped her by guile and setting her on a camel, made off with her into the desert, thinking to carry her to my own people and there set her to pasture the camels and collect their dung (for fuel); but she wept so sore, that after beating her soundly, I carried her to Damascus, where a merchant saw her and being astounded at her beauty and accomplishments, bid me more and more for her, till at last I sold her to him for a hundred thousand dinars. I heard after that he clothed her handsomely and presented her to the Viceroy of Damascus, who gave him for her her price thrice told; and this, by my life, was but little for such a damsel! This, O Kings of the age, is the strangest thing that ever befell me." The two Kings wondered at his story; but, when Nuzhet ez Zeman heard it, the light in her face became darkness, and she cried out and said to her brother, "Sure, this is the very Bedouin who kidnapped me in Jerusalem!" And she told them all that she had endured from him in her strangerhood of hardship and blows and hunger and humiliation, adding, "And now it is lawful to me to slay him." So saying, she seized a sword and made at him; but he cried out and said, "O Kings of the age, let her not kill me, till I have told you the rare adventures that have betided me." And Kanmakan said to her, "O my aunt, let him tell his story, and after do with him as thou wilt." So she held her hand and the Kings said to him, "Now let us hear thy story." "O Kings of the age," said he, "if I tell you a rare story, will you pardon me?" "Yes," answered they. Then said the Bedouin, "know that

Hemmad the Bedouin's Story.

Awhile ago, I was sore wakeful one night and thought the dawn would never break: so, as soon as it was day, I rose and girding on my sword, mounted my steed and set my lance in rest. Then I rode out to hunt, and as I went along, a company of men accosted me and asked me whither I went. I told them, and they said, 'We will bear thee company.' So we all fared on together, and presently we saw an ostrich and gave chase; but it evaded us and spreading its wings, fled before us and drew us on after it, till it brought us to a desert, wherein there was neither grass nor water, nor was aught to be heard there save the hissing of serpents, the wailing of Jinn and the howling of ghouls. Here we lost sight of the ostrich, nor could we tell whether it had flown up into the sky or sunk into the ground. Then we turned our horses' heads and thought to go back; but found that our return would be toilsome and dangerous at that time of exceeding heat; for the heat was grievous to us, so that we were sore athirst and our horses stood still. So we made sure of death; but as we were in this case, we espied a spacious meadow afar off, wherein were gazelles frisking. There was a tent pitched and by the tent-side a horse tethered and a spear stuck in the earth, whose head glittered in the sun. When we saw this, our hearts revived, after we had despaired, and we turned our horses' heads towards the meadow and rode on, till we came to a spring, where we alighted and drank and watered our beasts. Then I was seized with a frenzy of curiosity and went up to the door of the tent, where I saw a young man like the new moon, without hair on his cheeks, and on his right hand a slender damsel, as she were a willow wand. No sooner did I set eyes on the girl, than love of her got hold upon my heart and I saluted the young man, who returned my greeting. Then said I to him, 'O brother of the Arabs, tell me who thou art and what is this damsel to thee?' With this, he bent down his head awhile, then raised it and replied, 'Tell me first who thou art and what are these horsemen with thee.' 'I am Hemmad, son of El Fezari,' answered I, 'the renowned cavalier, who is reckoned as five hundred horse among the Arabs. We went forth this morning to hunt and were overcome by thirst; so I came to the door of this tent, thinking to get of thee a draught of water.' When he heard this, he turned to the fair maiden and said to her, 'Bring this man water and what there is of food.' So she went in, trailing her skirts, whilst her feet stumbled in her long hair and the golden bangles tinkled on her ankles, and returned after a little, bearing in her right hand a silver vessel of cold water and in her left a bowl full of milk and dates and flesh of wild cattle. But, of the excess of my passion for her, I could take of her nor meat nor drink, and I recited to her the following verses, applying them to her:

The dye of the henna upon her hand doth show, As 'twere a raven
     new lighted on fresh-fall'n snow;
And see the full moon and the sun beside her face, This dim and
     the other fearful for shame and woe.

Then, after I had eaten and drunk, I said to the youth, 'O chief of the Arabs, I have told thee truly who and what I am, and now I would fain have thee do the like by me and tell me the truth of thy case.' 'As for this damsel,' replied he, 'she is my sister.' Quoth I, 'It is my desire that thou give her to me to wife of free will: else will I slay thee and take her by force.' With this, he bowed his head awhile, then raised his eyes to me and answered, 'Thou sayest sooth in avouching thyself a renowned cavalier and a famous champion and the lion of the desert; but if ye all attack me treacherously and slay me and take my sister by force, it will be a stain upon your honour. If ye be, as thou sayest, cavaliers that are counted among the champions and fear not the shock of battle, give me time to don my armour and gird on my sword and set my lance in rest and mount my horse. Then will we go forth into the field and fight; and if I conquer you, I will kill you, every man of you; and if you overcome me and slay me, this damsel my sister is thine.' 'This is but just,' answered I, 'and we oppose it not.' Then I turned my horse's head, mad for love of the damsel, and rode back to my companions, to whom I set forth her beauty and grace, as also the comeliness of the young man and his valour and strength of soul and how he avouched himself a match for a thousand horse. Moreover, I described to them the tent and all the riches and rarities it contained and said to them, 'Be sure that this youth would not have taken up his abode alone in this desert place, were he not a man of great prowess: so I propose that whoso slays him shall take his sister.' And they agreed to this. Then we armed ourselves and mounting, rode to the tent, where we found the young man armed and mounted; but his sister ran up to him, with her veil drenched with tears, and laying hold of his stirrup, cried out, saying, 'Alas!' and 'Woe worth the day!' in her fear for her brother, and recited the following verses:

To God above I make my moan of sorrow and affright. Mayhap, the
     empyrean's Lord will smite them with dismay.
They fain would kill thee, brother mine, with malice
     aforethought, Though never cause of anger was nor fault
     forewent the fray.
Yet for a champion art thou known among the men of war, The
     doughtiest knight that East or West goes camping by the way.
Thou wilt thy sister's honour guard, whose might is small, for
     thou Her brother art and she for thee unto the Lord doth
     pray
Let not the foe possess my soul nor seize on me perforce And work
     their cruel will on me, without my yea or nay.
By God His truth, I'll never live in any land where thou Art not
     albeit all the goods of plenty it display!
But I will slay myself for love and yearning for thy sake And in
     the darksome tomb I'll make my bed upon the clay.

When he heard her words, he wept sore and turning his horse's head towards her, made answer with the following verses:

Stand by and see the wondrous deeds that I will do this day,
     Whenas we meet and I on them rain blows in the mellay.
E'en though the lion of the war, the captain of the host, The
     stoutest champion of them all, spur out into the fray,
I'll deal a Thaalebiyan[FN#159] blow at him and in his heart I'll
     let my spear, even to the shaft, its thirst for blood allay.
If I defend thee not from all that seek thee, sister mine, May I
     be slaughtered and my corse given to the birds of prey!
Ay, I will battle for thy sake, with all the might I may, And
     books shall story after me the marvels of this day.

Then said he, 'O my sister, give ear to what I shall enjoin on thee.' And she answered, 'I hear and obey.' Quoth he, 'If I fall, let none possess thee;' and she buffeted her face and said, 'God forbid, O my brother, that I should see thee laid low and yield myself to thine enemies!' With this he put out his hand to her and drew aside her veil, whereupon her face shone forth, like the sun from out clouds. Then he kissed her between the eyes and bade her farewell; after which he turned to us and said, 'Ho, cavaliers! Come ye as guests or are you minded to cut and thrust? If ye come as guests, rejoice in hospitality; and if ye covet the shining moon,[FN#160] come out against me, one by one, and fight.' Then came out to him a sturdy horseman, and the young man said to him, 'Tell me thy name and thy father's name, for I have sworn to fight with none whose name and whose father's name tally with mine and my father's, and if it be thus with thee, I will give thee up the girl.' 'My name is Bilal,'[FN#161] answered the other; and the young man repeated the following verses:

Thou liest when thou talkest of "benefits"; for lo, Thou comest
     with mischief and malice and woe!
So, an thou be doughty, heed well what I say: I'm he who the
     braver in the battle lays low
With a keen-cutting sword, like the horn of the moon; So look
     (and beware) for a hill-shaking blow!

Then they ran at one another, and the youth smote his adversary in the breast, that the lance-head issued from his back. With this, another came out, and the youth repeated the following verses:

O dog, that art noisome of stench and of sight, What is there of
     worth that to come by is light?
'Tis only the lion, of race and of might Right noble, recks
     little of life in the fight.

Nor was it long before he left him also drowned in his blood and cried out, 'Who will come out to me?' So a third horseman pricked out, reciting the following verses:

I come to thee, with a fire in my breast that blazes free, And
     call on my comrades all to the fight to follow me.
Though thou hast slain the chiefs of the Arabs, yet, perdie, Thou
     shalt not 'scape this day from those that follow thee!

When the youth heard this, he answered him, saying:

Thou com'st, like theright evil fiend that thou art, With a lie
     on thy lips and a fraud at thy heart;
This day shalt thou taste of a death-dealing dart And a spear
     that shall rid thee of life with its smart.

Then he smote him on the breast, that the spear-point issued from his back, and cried out, saying, 'Will another come out?' So a fourth came out and the youth asked him his name. He replied, 'My name is Hilal.'[FN#162] And the youth repeated these verses:

Thou err'st, that wouldst plunge in my sea of affray And thinkest
     to daunt me with lies and dismay.
Lo, I, to whose chant thou hast hearkened this day, Thy soul, ere
     thou know'st it, will ravish away!

Then they drove at one another and exchanged blows; but the youth's stroke forewent that of his adversary and slew him: and thus he went on to kill all who sallied out against him. When I saw my comrades slain, I said in myself, 'If I fight with him, I shall not be able to withstand him, and if I flee, I shall become a byword among the Arabs.' However, the youth gave me no time to think, but ran at me and laying hold of me, dragged me from my saddle. I swooned away and he raised his sword to cut off my head; but I clung to his skirts and he lifted me in his hand, as I were a sparrow [in the clutches of a hawk]. When the maiden saw this, she rejoiced in her brother's prowess and coming up to him, kissed him between the eyes. Then he delivered me to her, saying, 'Take him and entreat him well, for he is come under our rule.' So she took hold of the collars of my coat-of-arms and led me away by them as one would lead a dog. Then she did off her brother's armour and clad him in a robe, after which she brought him a stool of ivory, on which he sat down, and said to him, 'May God whiten thine honour and make thee to be as a provision against the shifts of fortune!' And he answered her with the following verses:

My sister said, (who saw my lustrous forehead blaze Midmost the
     war, as shine the sun's meridian rays)
"God bless thee for a brave, to whom, when he falls on, The
     desert lions bow in terror and amaze!"
"Question the men of war," I answered her, "of me, Whenas the
     champions flee before my flashing gaze.
I am the world-renowned for fortune and for might, Whose prowess
     I uplift to what a height of praise!
O Hemmad, thou hast roused a lion, who shall show Thee death that
     comes as swift as vipers in the ways."

When I heard what he said, I was perplexed about my affair, and considering my condition and how I was become a captive, I was lessened in my own esteem. Then I looked at the damsel and said to myself, 'It is she who is the cause of all this trouble;' and I fell a-marvelling at her beauty and grace, till the tears streamed from my eyes and I recited the following verses:

Reproach me not, O friend, nor chide me for the past, For I will
     pay no heed to chiding and dispraise.
Lo, I am clean distraught for one, whom when I saw, Fate in my
     breast forthright the love of her did raise.
Her brother was my foe and rival in her love, A man of mickle
     might and dreadful in affrays.

Then the maiden set food before her brother, and he bade me eat with him, whereat I rejoiced and felt assured of my life. When he had made an end of eating, she brought him a flagon of wine and he drank, till the fumes of the wine mounted to his head and his face flushed. Then he turned to me and said, 'Harkye, Hemmad, dost thou know me?' 'By thy life,' answered I, 'I am rich in nought but ignorance!' Said he, 'I am Ibad ben Temim ben Thaalebeh, and indeed God giveth thee thy liberty and spareth thee confusion.' Then he drank to my health and gave me a cup of wine and I drank it off. Then he filled me a second and a third and a fourth, and I drank them all; and he made merry with me and took an oath of me that I would never betray him. So I swore to him a thousand oaths that I would never deal perfidiously with him, but would be a friend and a helper to him.

Then he bade his sister bring me ten dresses of silk; so she brought them and laid them on me, and this gown I have on my body is one of them. Moreover, he made her bring one of the best of the riding camels, laden with stuffs and victual, and a sorrel horse, and gave the whole to me. I abode with them three days, eating and drinking, and what he gave me is with me to this day. At the end of this time, he said to me, 'O Hemmad, O my brother, I would fain sleep awhile and rest myself. I trust myself to thee; but if thou see horsemen making hither, fear not, for they are of the Beni Thaalebeh, seeking to wage war on me.' Then he laid his sword under his head and slept; and when he was drowned in slumber, the devil prompted me to kill him; so I rose, and drawing the sword from under his head, dealt him a blow that severed his head from his body. His sister heard what I had done, and rushing out from within the tent, threw herself on his body, tearing her clothes and repeating the following verses:

Carry the tidings to the folk, the saddest news can be; But man
     from God His ordinance no whither hath to flee.
Now art thou slaughtered, brother mine, laid prostrate on the
     earth, Thou whose bright face was as the round of the full
     moon to see.
Indeed, an evil day it was, the day thou mettest them, And after
     many a fight, thy spear is shivered, woe is me!
No rider, now that thou art dead, in horses shall delight Nor
     evermore shall woman bear a male to match with thee.
Hemmad this day hath played thee false and foully done to death;
     Unto his oath and plighted faith a traitor base is he.
He deemeth thus to have his will and compass his desire; But
     Satan lieth to his dupes in all he doth decree.

When she had ended, she turned to me and said, 'O man of accursed lineage, wherefore didst thou play my brother false and slay him, whenas he purposed to send thee back to thy country with gifts and victual and it was his intent also to marry thee to me at the first of the month?' Then she drew a sword she had with her, and planting it in the ground, with the point set to her breast, threw herself thereon and pressed upon it, till the blade issued from her back and she fell to the ground, dead. I mourned for her and wept and repented when repentance availed me nothing. Then I went in haste to the tent and taking whatever was light of carriage and great of worth, went my way: but in my haste and fear, I took no heed of my (dead) comrades, nor did I bury the maiden and the youth. This, then, is my story, and it is still more extraordinary than that of the serving-maid I kidnapped in Jerusalem."

When Nuzet ez Zeman heard these words of the Bedouin, the light in her eyes was changed to darkness, and she rose and drawing the sword, smote him amiddleward the shoulder-blades, that the point issued from his throat. The bystanders said to her, "Why hast thou made haste to slay him?" And she answered, "Praised be God who hath granted me to avenge myself with my own hand!" And she bade the slaves drag the body out by the feet and cast it to the dogs. Then they turned to the second prisoner, who was a black slave, and said to him, "What is thy name? Tell us the truth of thy case." "My name is Ghezban," answered he and told them what had passed between himself and the princess Abrizeh and how he had slain her and fled. Hardly had he made an end of his story, when King Rumzan struck off his head with his sabre, saying, "Praised be God that gave me life! I have avenged my mother with my own hand." Then he repeated to them what his nurse Merjaneh had told him of this same Ghezban; after which they turned to the third prisoner and said to him, "Tell us who thou art and speak the truth." Now this was the very camel-driver, whom the people of Jerusalem hired to carry Zoulmekan to the hospital at Damascus; but he threw him down on the fuel-heap and went his way. So he told them how he had dealt with Zoulmekan, whereupon Kanmakan took his sword forthright and cut off his head, saying, "Praised be God who hath given me life, that I might requite this traitor what he did with my father, for I have heard this very story from King Zoulmekan himself!" Then they said to each other "It remains only for us to take our wreak of the old woman Shewahi, yclept Dhat ed Dewahi, for that she is the prime cause of all these troubles. Who will deliver her into our hands, that we may avenge ourselves upon her and wipe out our dishonour?" And King Rumzan said, "Needs must we bring her hither." So he wrote a letter to his grandmother, the aforesaid old woman, giving her to know that he had subdued the kingdoms of Damascus and Mosul and Irak and had broken up the host of the Muslims and captured their princes and adding, "I desire thee of all urgency to come to me without delay, bringing with thee the princess Sufiyeh, daughter of King Afridoun, and whom thou wilt of the Nazarene chiefs, but no troops; for the country is quiet and under our hand." And he despatched the letter to her, which when she read, she rejoiced greatly and forthwith equipping herself and Sufiyeh, set out with their attendants and journeyed, without stopping, till they drew near Baghdad. Then she sent a messenger to acquaint the King of her arrival, whereupon quoth Rumzan, "We should do well to don the habit of the Franks and go out to meet the old woman, to the intent that we may be assured against her craft and perfidy." So they clad themselves in Frankish apparel, and when Kuzia Fekan saw them, she exclaimed, "By the Lord of Worship, did I not know you, I should take you to be indeed Franks!" Then they sallied forth, with a thousand horse, to meet the old woman, and King Rumzan rode on before them. As soon as his eyes met hers, he dismounted and walked towards her, and she, recognizing him, dismounted also and embraced him; but he pressed her ribs with his hands, till he well-nigh broke them. Quoth she, "What is this, O my son?" But before she had done speaking, up came Kanmakan and Dendan, and the horsemen with them cried out at the women and slaves and took them all prisoners. Then the two Kings returned to Baghdad, with their captives, and Rumzan bade decorate the city three days long, at the end of which time they brought out the old woman, with a tall red bonnet of palm-leaves on her head, diademed with asses' dung, and preceded by a herald, proclaiming aloud, "This is the reward of those who presume to lay hands on kings and kings' sons!" Then they crucified her on one of the gates of Baghdad; and her companions, seeing what befell her, all embraced the faith of Islam. As for Kanmakan and his uncle Rumzan and his aunt Nuzhet ez Zeman, they marvelled at the wonderful events that had betided them and bade the scribes set them down orderly in books, that those who came after might read. Then they all abode in the enjoyment of all the delights and comforts of life, till there overtook them the Destroyer of Delights and the Sunderer of Companies; and this is all that hath come down to us of the dealings of fortune with King Omar ben Ennuman and his sons Sherkan and Zoulmekan and his son's son Kanmakan and his daughter Nuzhet ez Zeman and her daughter Kuzia Fekan.

END of VOL. II.

Notes to Volume 2.

[FN#1] A.H. 65-86.

[FN#2] i.e. none could approach him in the heat of fight.

[FN#3] Sophia.

[FN#4] Apparently Palestine (in this case).

[FN#5] i.e. man of might and munificence.

[FN#6] About £35,000.

[FN#7] Dhai ed Dewahi.

[FN#8] i.e. sperma hominis.

[FN#9] Apparently the names of noted wrestlers.

[FN#10] A phrase of frequent occurrence in the Koran, meaning "your female slaves" or "the women ye have captured in war."

[FN#11] Quoth he (Solomon), "O chiefs, which of you will bring me her throne?" (i.e. that of Belkis, queen of Sheba) ……."I," said an Afrit of the Jinn, "will bring it thee, ere thou canst rise from thy stead, for I am able thereto and faithful!"—Koran xxvii. 38, 39.

[FN#12] One of the fountains of Paradise.

[FN#13] Kutheiyir ibn Ali Juma, a well-known poet of the seventh and eighth centuries at Medina. He was celebrated for his love of Azzeh, in whose honour most of his poems were written. The writer (or copyist) of this tale has committed an anachronism in introducing these verses, as Kutheiyir was a contemporary of the Khalif Abdulmelik ben Merwan before whose time Sherkan and his father (both imaginary characters) are stated( see supra, p. 1 {Vol. 2, FN#1}) to have lived; but the whole narrative is full of the grossest anachronisms, too numerous, indeed, to notice.

[FN#14] Jemil ben Mamer, another celebrated Arabian poet and lover, a friend and contemporary of Kutheiyir.

[FN#15] A person who dies for love is esteemed a martyr by the
Arabs.

[FN#16] I suspect these verses to have been introduced in error by some copyist. They appear utterly meaningless in this context.

[FN#17] The bishop.

[FN#18] Apparently referring in jest to her speech to him see supra, p. 27 {see text, Vol. 2, after FN#17}, "Thou art beaten in everything."

[FN#19] He likens the glance of her eye to the blade of a Yemen sword,—a comparison of frequent occurrence in Arabic poetry.

[FN#20] Mehmil. A decorated framework or litter borne by a camel, sent as an emblem of royalty with the caravan of pilgrims to Mecca, by way of honour to the occasion and to the sacred object of the pilgrimage, much as great people send their empty carriages to attend the funeral of a person for whose memory they wish to show their respect. The introduction of the Mehmil here is another of the many anachronisms of the story, as the custom is said not to here come into use till a much later period.

[FN#21] Mecca.

[FN#22] Medina.

[FN#23] Oriental substitutes for soap.

[FN#24] i.e., death.

[FN#25] Apparently the Bedouin was angry with the merchant for praising the girl to her face and perhaps also alarmed at finding that he had kidnapped a young lady of consequence, where he only thought to have made prize of a pretty wench of humble condition and friendless.

[FN#26] Delight of the age.

[FN#27] Affliction (or wrath) of the age.

[FN#28] For fuel.

[FN#29] "God will open on me another gate (or means) of making my living." A common formula, meaning, "It is not enough."

[FN#30] Or state problems.

[FN#31] One of the four great Muslim sects or schools of theology, taking its name from the Imam es Shafi (see post, p. 131, note). {see Vol. 2 FN#89}

[FN#32] Second of the Abbasside Khalifs, A.H. 136-158.

[FN#33] The second Khalif after Mohammed (A.H. 13-23) and the most renowned for piety and just government of all the borders of the office, except perhaps his descendant Omar ben Abdulaziz (A.H. 99-102).

[FN#34] As a reward (in the next world) for good deeds.

[FN#35] The fourth Khalif.

[FN#36] The word rendered "good breeding" may also be translated "polite accomplishments" or "mental discipline" and has a great number of other meanings.

[FN#37] Sixth Khalif and founder of the Ommiade dynasty (A.H. 41 60).

[FN#38] One of the most notable men of the day, chief of the great tribe of the Benou Temim. He was a contemporary of the Prophet and was held in much esteem by Muawiyeh.

[FN#39] Surname of Ahnaf.

[FN#40] Governor of Bassora and other places under the first four
Khalifs.

[FN#41] Ziad teen Abou Sufyan, illegitimate brother of the Khalif
Muawiyeh, afterwards governor of Bassora Cufa and the Hejaz.

[FN#42] Because it might have been taken to mean, "inhabitants of hell."

[FN#43] i.e. death.

[FN#44] A battle fought near Medina, A.D. 625, in which Mohammed was defeated by the Meccans under Abou Sufyan.

[FN#45] One of Mohammed's widows and Omar's own daughter.

[FN#46] A well-known man of letters and theologian of the seventh and eighth centuries.

[FN#47] i.e. to prepare himself by good works, etc., for the world to come.

[FN#48] A celebrated Cufan theologian of the eighth century.

[FN#49] i.e. for the next world.

[FN#50] The eighth Khalif of the Ommiade dynasty, a rival in piety and single-mindedness of Omar ben Khettab.

[FN#51] The descendants of Umeyyeh and kinsmen of the reigning house.

[FN#52] The second, fifth, sixth and seventh Khalifs of the
Ommiade dynasty.

[FN#53] The mother of Omar ben Abdulaziz was a granddaughter of
Omar ben Khettab.

[FN#54] Brother of Omar's successor, Yezid II.

[FN#55] This passage apparently belongs to the previous account of Omar's death-bed; but I have left it as it stands in the text, as it would be a hopeless task to endeavour to restore this chaos of insipid anecdote and devotional commonplace to anything like symmetry.

[FN#56] Lit. with (or by) neither book (i.e. Koran) nor Sunneh (i.e. the Traditions of the Prophet).

[FN#57] Chief of the tribe of Temim and one of the most elegant orators of the eighth century.

[FN#58] Surnamed Eth Thekefi, Governor of Yemen and Irak: also a well known orator, but a most cruel and fantastic tyrant.

[FN#59] Tenth Khalif of the Ommiade dynasty (A.D. 723-742).

[FN#60] i.e. slave-girl.

[FN#61] i.e. It was decreed, so it was.

[FN#62] Nuzhet ez Zeman.

[FN#63] Nuzhet ez Zeman.

[FN#64] Zoulmekan.

[FN#65] Nuzhet ez Zeman.

[FN#66] Sedic.

[FN#67] Sidc.

[FN#68] Mohammed Ibn Shihab ez Zuhri, a celebrated Traditionist and jurisconsult of Medina in the seventh and eighth centuries.

[FN#69] Alexander.

[FN#70] The celebrated fabulist, said to have been a black slave of the time of David, but supposed by some to be identical with Aesop.

[FN#71] Koran iii. 185.

[FN#72] One of the Companions of the Prophet.

[FN#73] One of the contemporaries of Mohammed and a noted Traditionist (or repeater of the sayings of the Prophet) at Cufa in the seventh century.

[FN#74] A noted Traditionist and expounder Of the Koran in the first century of the Muslim era. He was a black and a native of Cufa.

[FN#75] Son of the martyr Hussein and grandson of the Khalif Ali.

[FN#76] A very eminent doctor of the law and Traditionist of the eighth century. He was a native of Cufa and was regarded as one of the great exemplars of the true believers.

[FN#77] i.e. those who love and obey the precepts of the Koran.

[FN#78] i.e. Barefoot. A native of Merv and a famous ascetic of the eighth and ninth centuries.

[FN#79] Necessitating a fresh ablution, before the prayer can be ended.

[FN#80] Another noted ascetic of the time.

[FN#81] About a penny.

[FN#82] A well-known legist and devotee of the eighth and ninth centuries at Baghdad, Sounder of one of the four great orthodox Muslim schools.

[FN#83] A famous theologian and devotee of the eighth century at
Bassora.

[FN#84] A noted preacher and Traditionist of Khorassan in the ninth, century.

[FN#85] Koran .xvi. 6.

[FN#86] A Traditionist of Medina. who flourished in the eighth century.

[FN#87] This paragraph is part extract from and part paraphrase of the Koran xxviii 22-27.

[FN#88] A well-known pietist of the eighth century.

[FN#89] Abou Hatim el Asemm (the Deaf), a famous Balkhi theologian of the ninth century.

[FN#90] One of two of the most famous theologians of the second century of the Hegira and the founders of two of the four great Mohammedan schools.

[FN#91] One of two of the most famous theologians of the second century of the Hegira and the founders of two of the four great Mohammedan schools.

[FN#92] Ismail ibn Yehya el Muzeni, a famous Egyptian doctor of the law pupil of Es Shafi and Imam of the Shafiyite school in the ninth century.

[FN#93] Koran lxxvii. 35, 36.

[FN#94] Mohammed.

[FN#95] Islam.

[FN#96] "In Hell shall they (the unbelievers) burn, and ill shall be (their) stead."—Koran, xiv. 34.

[FN#97] Mohammed pretended that his coming had been foretold in the Gospels and that the Christians had falsified the passage (John xvi. 7) promising the advent of the Comforter (<Greek> ) by substituting the latter word for <Greek> , glorious, renowned, praised, i.e. Mohammed.

[FN#98] The second chapter of the Koran, beginning, "This is the
Book, etc."

[FN#99] It appears by what follows that Afridoun, supposing the victory to be gained, returned to Constantinople immediately after sending this message and left the command of the army to King Herdoub.

[FN#100] At Mecca.

[FN#101] i.e. There is no god but God.

[FN#102] Koran, x. 25.

[FN#103] Cassia fistularis, a kind of carob.

[FN#104] "say not of those who are slain in the way (service) of
God that they are dead; nay, they are living." Koran, ii 149.

[FN#105] Apparently Constantinople.

[FN#106] This verse alludes to the garbled version of the miracle of Aaron's rod given in the Koran, which attributes the act to Moses and makes the Egyptian sorcerers throw down ropes, to which by their art they give the appearance of serpents.

[FN#107] i.e., of the Koran.

[FN#108] A certain formula, invoking peace on the Prophet and all men recurring at the end of the five daily prayers and pronounced sitting.

[FN#109] ex voto.

[FN#110] i.e. Mohammed.

[FN#111] "What news bringest thou, O saint?"

[FN#112] i.e. Mohammed.

[FN#113] These epithets are often applied by the Arabs, in a complimentary sense, to anyone who works great havoc among his enemies by his prowess and cunning.

[FN#114] See Vol. I. p. 135, note. {Vol. 1, FN#45}

[FN#115] i.e. Deal with thee as if thou wert slave-born and therefore not used to knightly fashions nor able to endure stress of battle.

[FN#116] A chapel so called in the Temple at Mecca.

[FN#117] Mohammed.

[FN#118] Protector of the women that ride therein.

[FN#119] The Mohammedans have a legend that God gave David extraordinary skill in working iron and making chain mail, that he might earn his living without drawing upon the public treasury. "And we gave David a grace from us and softened for him iron (saying), 'Make thou coats of mail and adjust the rings duly and deal rightly, for I look upon what ye do."' —Koran, xxxiv. 10.

[FN#120] This appears to be an allusion to the colours of the house of Abbas, which were black.

[FN#121] Kafir means "black" as well as "infidel."

[FN#122] One of the Mohammedan legends represents Moses as seeking the water of life.

[FN#123] The allusion here is to the face of a beloved one, which is likened to a moon rising out of her dress.

[FN#124] An ornamental hand, said to be so called from the resemblance of the pen with which it is written to the leaf of the sweet basil.

[FN#125] lit. "the love of the Beni Udhra," an Arabian tribe, famous for the passion and devotion with which love was practiced among them.

[FN#126] Syn. eye (nazir).

[FN#127] Syn. eyebrow (hajib).

[FN#128] i.e. including the two days that had already elapsed.

[FN#129] i.e. a graceful youth of the province in which Mecca is situate.

[FN#130] A small piece of wood used in a children's out-door game called tab.

[FN#131] The stone of the beleh or "green" date, not allowed to ripen.

[FN#132] Or drachm-weight.

[FN#133] An audacious parody of the consecrated expression used to describe the ceremonious circumambulation of the Kaabeh at Mecca.

[FN#134] Subaudiantur autem utriusque sexûs pudenda.

[FN#135] Subaudiantur autem utriusque sexûs pudenda.

[FN#136] Subaudiatur vas muliebre.

[FN#137] The word sac (leg), when used in the oblique case, as it would necessarily be here, makes saki, i.e. cup-bearer. A play upon the double meaning is evidently intended.

[FN#138] In the East, bathers pay on leaving the bath.

[FN#139] As a styptic.

[FN#140] Dunya.

[FN#141] Semen hominis.

[FN#142] i.e. the rolls of dirt that come off under the bathman's hands.

[FN#143] Paradise.

[FN#144] The cold room of the bath.

[FN#145] The hot room.

[FN#146] The door-keeper of hell.

[FN#147] The door-keeper of Paradise.

[FN#148] i.e. Crown of Kings.

[FN#149] An obscure star in the Great Bear.

[FN#150] Zibl means "dung" or "sweepings." Can (Khan) means "chief."

[FN#151] i.e., Him who fights for the Faith.

[FN#152] A town on the Euphrates, on the borders of Syria and
Mesopotamia.

[FN#153] i.e. recognized him as king by naming him in the public prayers.

[FN#154] i.e. the silky whiskers, which it is common, in poetry, to call green likening them to newly-sprouted herbage.

[FN#155] i.e. the Day of Judgment.

[FN#156] Ironical.

[FN#157] i.e. Kanmakan.

[FN#158] Meaning, apparently, poisoned.

[FN#159] i.e. with a blow worthy of the members of the family of Thaalebeb to which (see post, p. 368 {see …Said he, 'I am Ibad ben Temin ben Thaalebh, and indeed…}) he belonged.

[FN#160] i.e. his sister.

[FN#161] i.e. benefits.

[FN#162] i.e. new moon.

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOOK OF THE THOUSAND NIGHTS AND ONE NIGHT, VOLUME II ***

VOLUME THE THIRD.

                             London
                  Printed For Subscribers Only
                              1901

Delhi Edition

Contents of The Third Volume.

1. The Birds and Beasts and the Son of Adam 2. The Hermits 3. The Water-Foul and the Tortoise 4. The Wolf and the Fox a. The Hawk and the Partridge 5. The Mouse and the Weasel 6. The Cat and the Crow 7. The Fox and the Crow a. The Mouse and the Flea b. The Falcon and the Birds c. The Sparrow and the Eagle 8. The Hedgehog and the Pigeons a. The Merchant and the Two Sharpers 9. The Thief and his Monkey a. The Foolish Weaver 10. The Sparrow and the Peacock 11. Ali Ben Bekkar and Shemsennehar 12. Kemeezzeman and Boudour a. Nimeh Ben er Rebya and Num his Slave Girl 13. Alaeddin Abou Esh Shamat 14. Hatim et Yai: His Generosity After Death 15. Maan Ben Zaideh and the Three Girls 16. Maan Ben Zaideh and the Bedouin 17. The City of Lebtait 18. The Khalif Hisham and the Arab Youth 19. Ibrahim Ben el Mehdi and the Barber-surgeon 20. The City of Irem 21. Isaac of Mosul's Story of Khedijeh and the Khalif Mamoun 22. The Scavenger and the Noble Lady of Baghdad 23. The Mock Khalif 24. Ali the Persian and the Kurd Sharper

THE BOOK OF THE THOUSAND NIGHTS AND ONE NIGHT

When Shehrzad had made an end of the history of King Omar teen Ennuman and his sons, Shehriyar said to her, "I desire that thou tell me some story about birds;" and Dunyazad, hearing this, said to her sister, "All this while I have never seen the Sultan light at heart till this night; and this gives me hope that the issue may be a happy one for thee with him." Then drowsiness overcame the Sultan; so he slept and Shehrzad, perceiving the approach of day, was silent.

When it was the hundred and forty-sixth night, Shehrzad began as follows: "I have heard tell, O august King, that

STORY OF THE BIRDS AND BEASTS AND THE SON OF ADAM.

A peacock once abode with his mate on the sea-shore, in a place that abounded in trees and streams, but was infested with lions and all manner other wild beasts, and for fear of these latter, the two birds were wont to roost by night upon a tree, going forth by day in quest of food. They abode thus awhile, till, their fear increasing on them, they cast about for some other place wherein to dwell, and in the course of their search, they happened on an island abounding in trees and streams. So they alighted there and ate of its fruits and drank of its waters. Whilst they were thus engaged, up came a duck, in a state of great affright, and stayed not till she reached the tree on which the two peacocks were perched, when she seemed reassured. The peacock doubted not but that she had some rare story; so he asked her of her case and the cause of her alarm, to which she replied, 'I am sick for sorrow and my fear of the son of Adam: beware, O beware of the sons of Adam!' 'Fear not,' rejoined the peacock, 'now that thou hast won to us.' 'Praised be God,' cried the duck, 'who hath done away my trouble and my concern with your neigbourhood! For indeed I come, desiring your friendship.' Thereupon the peahen came down to her and said, 'Welcome and fair welcome! No harm shall befall thee: how can the son of Adam come at us and we in this island midmost the sea? From the land he cannot win to us, neither can he come up to us out of the sea. So be of good cheer and tell us what hath betided thee from him. 'Know then, O peahen,' answered the duck, 'that I have dwelt all my life in this island in peace and safety and have seen no disquieting thing, till one night, as I was asleep, I saw in a dream the semblance of a son of Adam, who talked with me and I with him. Then I heard one say to me, "O duck, beware of the son of Adam and be not beguiled by his words nor by that he may suggest to thee; for he aboundeth in wiles and deceit; so beware with all wariness of his perfidy, for he is crafty and guileful, even as saith of him the poet:

He giveth thee honeyed words with the tip of his tongue, galore.
     But sure he will cozen thee, as the fox cloth, evermore.

For know that the son of Adam beguileth the fish and draweth them forth of the waters and shooteth the birds with a pellet of clay and entrappeth the elephant with his craft. None is safe from his mischief, and neither beast nor bird escapeth him. Thus have I told thee what I have heard concerning the son of Adam." I awoke, fearful and trembling (continued the duck), and from that time to this my heart hath not known gladness, for fear of the son of Adam, lest he take me unawares by his craft or trap me in his snares. By the time the end of the day overtook me, I was grown weak and my strength and courage failed me; so, desiring to eat and drink, I went forth, troubled in spirit and with a heart ill at ease. I walked on, till I reached yonder mountain, where I saw a tawny lion-whelp at the door of a cave. When he saw me, he rejoiced greatly in me, for my colour pleased him and my elegant shape: so he cried out to me, saying "Draw nigh unto me." So I went up to him and he said to me, "What is thy name and thy kind?" Quoth I, "My name is 'duck,' and I am of the bird-kind; but thou, why tarriest thou in this place till now?" "My father the lion," answered he, "has bidden me many a day beware of the son of Adam, and it befell this night that I saw in my sleep the semblance of a son of Adam." And he went on to tell me the like of that I have told you. When I heard this, I said to him, "O lion, I resort to thee, that thou mayst kill the son of Adam and steadfastly address thy thought to his slaughter; for I am greatly in fear for myself of him, and fear is added to my fear, for that thou also fearest the son of Adam, and thou the Sultan of the beasts. Then, O my sister, I ceased not to bid him beware of the son of Adam and urge him to slay him, till he rose of a sudden from his stead and went out, lashing his flanks with his tail. He fared on, and I after him, till we came to a place, where several roads met, and saw cloud of dust arise, which, presently clearing away, discovered a naked runaway ass, and now running and galloping and now rolling in the dust. When the lion saw the ass, he cried out to him, and he came up to him submissively. Then said the lion, "Harkye, crack-brain! What is thy kind and what brings thee hither?" "O, son of the Sultan," answered the ass, "I am by kind an ass, and the cause of my coming hither is that I am fleeing from the son of Adam." "Dost thou fear then that he will kill thee?" asked the lion-whelp. "Not so, O son of the Sultan," replied the ass; "but I fear lest he put a cheat on me; for he hath a thing called the pad, that he sets on my back, and a thing called the girth, that he binds about my belly, and a thing called the crupper, that he puts under my tail, and a thing called the bit, that he places in my mouth; and he fashions me a goad and goads me with it and makes me run more than my strength. If I stumble, he curses me, and if I bray, he reviles me; and when I grow old and can no longer run, he puts a wooden pannel on me and delivers me to the water-carriers, who load my back with water from the river, in skins and other vessels, such as jars, and I wear out my life in misery and abasement and fatigue till I die, when they cast me on the rubbish-heaps to the dogs. So what misery can surpass this, and what calamities can be greater than these?" When, O peahen, I heard the ass's words, my skin shuddered at the son of Adam and I said to the lion-whelp, "Of a verity, O my lord, the ass hath excuse, and his words add terror to my terror." Then said the lion to the ass, "Whither goest thou?" "Before the rising of the sun" answered he, "I espied the son of Adam afar off and fled from him, and now I am minded to flee forth and run without ceasing, for the greatness of my fear of him, so haply I may find a place to shelter me from the perfidious son of Adam." Whilst he was thus discoursing, seeking the while to take leave of us and go away, behold, another cloud of dust arose, at sight of which the ass brayed and cried out and let fly a great crack of wind. Presently, the dust lifted and discovered a handsome black horse of elegant shape, with white feet and fine legs and a brow-star like a dirhem, which made towards us, neighing, and stayed not till he stood before the whelp, the son of the lion, who, when he saw him, marvelled at his beauty and said to him, "What is thy kind, O noble wild beast, and wherefore fleest thou into this vast and wide desert?" "O lord of the beasts," answered he, "I am of the horse-kind, and I am fleeing from the son of Adam." The whelp wondered at the horse's words and said to him, "Say not thus; for it is shame for thee, seeing that thou art tall and stout. How comes it that thou fearest the son of Adam, thou, with thy bulk of body and thy swiftness of running, when I, for all my littleness of body, am resolved to find out the son of Adam, and rushing on him, eat his flesh, that I may allay the affright of this poor duck and make her to dwell in peace in her own place. But now thou hast wrung my heart with thy talk and turned me back from what I had resolved to do, in that, for all thy bulk, the son of Adam hath mastered thee and feared neither thy height nor thy breadth, though, wert thou to kick him with thy foot, thou wouldst kill him, nor could he prevail against thee, but thou wouldst make him drink the cup of death." The horse laughed, when he heard the whelp's words, and replied, "Far, far is it from my power to overcome him, O king's son! Let not my length and my breadth nor yet my bulk delude thee, with respect to the son of Adam; for he, of the excess of his guile and his cunning, fashions for me a thing called a hobble and hobbles my four legs with ropes of palm-fibres, bound with felt, and makes me fast by the head to a high picket, so that I remain standing and can neither sit nor lie down, being tied up. When he hath a mind to ride me, he binds on his feet a thing of iron called a stirrup and lays on my back another thing called a saddle, which he fastens by two girths, passed under my armpits. Then he sets in my mouth a thing of iron he calls a bit, to which he ties a thing of leather called a rein; and when he mounts on the saddle on my back, he takes the rein in his hand and guides me with it, goading my flanks the while with the stirrups[FN#1], till he makes them bleed: so do not ask, O king's son, what I endure from the son of Adam. When I grow old and lean and can no longer run swiftly, he sells me to the miller, who makes me turn in the mill, and I cease not from turning night and day, till I grow decrepit. Then he in turn sells me to the knacker, who slaughters me and flays off my hide, after which he plucks out my tail, which he sells to the sieve-makers, and melts down my fat for tallow." At this, the young lion's anger and vexation redoubled, and he said to the horse, "When didst thou leave the son of Adam?" "At mid-day," replied the horse; "and he is now on my track." Whilst the whelp was thus conversing with the horse, there arose a cloud of dust and presently subsiding, discovered a furious camel, which made toward us, braying and pawing the earth with his feet. When the whelp saw how great and lusty he was, he took him to be the son of Adam and was about to spring at him, when I said to him, "O king's son, this is not the son of Adam, but a camel, and me seems he is fleeing from the son of Adam." As I spoke, O my sister, the camel came up and saluted the lion-whelp, who returned his greeting and said to him, "What brings thee hither?" Quoth he, "I am fleeing from the son of Adam." "And thou," said the whelp, "with thy huge frame and length and breadth, how comes it that thou fearest the son of Adam, seeing that one kick of thy foot would kill him?" "O son of the Sultan," answered the camel, "know that the son of Adam has wiles, which none can withstand, nor can any but Death prevail against him; for he puts in my nostrils a twine of goat's-hair he calls a nose-ring and over my head a thing he calls a halter; then he delivers me to the least of his children, and the youngling draws me along by the nose-ring, for all my size and strength. Then they load me with the heaviest of burdens and go long journeys with me and put me to hard labours all hours of the day and night. When I grow old and feeble, my master keeps me not with him, but sells me to the knacker, who slaughters me and sells my hide to the tanners and my flesh to the cooks: so do not ask what I suffer from the son of Adam." "When didst thou leave the son of Adam?" asked the young lion. "At sundown," replied the camel; "and I doubt not but that, having missed me, he is now in search of me: wherefore, O son of the Sultan, let me go, that I may flee into the deserts and the wilds." "Wait awhile, O camel," said the whelp, "till thou see how I will rend him in pieces and give thee to eat of his flesh, whilst I crunch his bones and drink his blood." "O king's son," rejoined the camel, "I fear for thee from the son of Adam, for he is wily and perfidious." And he repeated the following verse:

Whenas on any land the oppressor cloth alight, There's nothing left for those, that dwell therein, but flight.

Whilst the camel was speaking, there arose a cloud of dust, which opened and showed a short thin old man, with a basket of carpenters' tools on his shoulder and a branch of a tree and eight planks on his head. He had little children in his hand, and came on at a brisk pace, till he drew near us. When I saw him, O my sister, I fell down for excess of affright; but the young lion rose and went to meet the carpenter, who smiled in his face and said to him, with a glib tongue, "O illustrious king and lord of the long arm, may God prosper shine evening and shine endeavour and increase thy velour and strengthen thee! Protect me from that which hath betided me and smitten me with its mischief, for I have found no helper save only thee." And he stood before him, weeping and groaning and lamenting. When the whelp heard his weeping and wailing, he said, "I will succour thee from that thou fearest. Who hath done thee wrong and what art thou, O wild beast, whose like I never saw in my life nor saw I ever one goodlier of form or more eloquent of tongue than thou? What is thy case?" "O lord of the beasts," answered the man, "I am a carpenter; he who hath wronged me is a son of Adam, and by break of dawn he will be with thee in this place." When the lion heard this, the light in his face was changed to darkness and he roared and snorted and his eyes cast forth sparks. Then he said, "By Allah, I will watch this night till the dawn, nor will I return to my father till I have compassed my intent. But thou," continued he, addressing the carpenter, "I see thou art short of step, and I would not wound thy feelings, for that I am generous of heart; yet do I deem thee unable to keep pace with the wild beasts: tell me then whither thou goest." "Know," answered the carpenter, "that I am on my way to thy father's Vizier, the Lynx; for when he heard that the son of Adam had set foot in this country, he feared greatly for himself and sent one of the beasts for me, to make him a house, wherein he should dwell, that it might shelter him and hold his enemy from him, so not one of the sons of Adam should come at him." When the young lion heard this, he envied the lynx and said to the carpenter, "By my life, thou must make me a house with these planks, ere thou make one for the lynx! When thou hast done my work, go to the lynx and make him what he wishes." "O lord of the beasts," answered the carpenter, "I cannot make thee aught, till I have made the lynx what he desires: then will I return to thy service and make thee a house, to ward thee from shine enemy." "By Allah," exclaimed the whelp, "I will not let thee go hence, till thou make me a house of these planks!" So saying, he sprang upon the carpenter, thinking to jest with him, and gave him a cuff with his paw. The blow knocked the basket off the man's shoulder and he fell down in a swoon, whereupon the young lion laughed at him and said, "Out on thee, O carpenter! Of a truth thou art weak and hast no strength; so it is excusable in thee to fear the son of Adam." Now the carpenter was exceeding wroth; but he dissembled his anger, for fear of the whelp, and sat up and smiled in his face, saying, "Well, I will make thee the house." With this, he took the planks, and nailing them together, made a house in the form of a chest, after the measure of the young lion. In this he cut a large opening, to which he made a stout cover and bored many holes therein, leaving the door open. Then he took out some nails of wrought iron and a hammer and said to the young lion, "Enter this opening, that I may fit it to thy measure." The whelp was glad and went up to the opening, but saw that it was strait; and the carpenter said to him, "Crouch down and so enter." So the whelp crouched down and entered the chest, but his tail remained outside. Then he would have drawn back and come out; but the carpenter said to him, "Wait till I see if there be room for thy tail with thee." So saying, he twisted up the young lion's tail, and stuffing it into the chest, whipped the lid on to the opening and nailed it down; whereat the whelp cried out and said, "O carpenter, what is this narrow house thou hast made me? Let me out." But the carpenter laughed and answered, "God forbid! Repentance avails nothing for what is passed, and indeed thou shalt not come out of this place. Verily thou art fallen into the trap and there is no escape for thee from duresse, O vilest of wild beasts!" "O my brother," rejoined the whelp, "what manner of words are these?" "Know, O dog of the desert," answered the man, "that thou hast fallen into that which thou fearedst; Fate hath overthrown thee, nor did thought-taking profit thee." When the whelp heard these words, he knew that this was indeed the very son of Adam, against whom he had been warned by his father on wake and by the mysterious voice in sleep; and I also, O my sister, was certified that this was indeed he without doubt; wherefore there took me great fear of him for myself and I withdrew a little apart and waited to see what he would do with the young lion. Then I saw the son of Adam dig a pit hard by the chest and throwing the latter therein, heap brushwood upon it and burn the young lion with fire. At this sight, my fear of the son of Adam redoubled, and in my affright I have been these two days fleeing from him.'"

When the peahen heard the duck's story, she wondered exceedingly and said to her, 'O my sister, thou art safe here from the son of Adam, for we are in one of the islands of the sea, whither there is no way for him; so do thou take up shine abode with us, till God make easy shine and our affair.' Quoth the duck, 'I fear lest some calamity come upon me by night, for no runaway can rid him of fate.' 'Abide with us,' rejoined the peahen, 'and be even as we;' and ceased not to persuade her, till she yielded, saying, 'O my sister, thou knowest how little is my fortitude: had I not seen thee here, I had not remained.' 'That which is written on our foreheads,' said the peahen, 'we must indeed fulfil, and when our appointed day draws near, who shall deliver us? But not a soul passes away except it have accomplished its predestined term and fortune.' As they talked, a cloud of dust appeared, at sight of which the duck shrieked aloud and ran down into the sea, crying out, 'Beware, beware, albeit there is no fleeing from Fate and Fortune!' After awhile, the dust subsided and discovered an antelope; whereat the duck and the peahen were reassured and the latter said to her companion, 'O my sister, this thou seest and wouldst have me beware of is an antelope, and he is making for us. He will do us no hurt, for the antelope feeds upon the herbs of the earth, and even as thou art of the bird-kind, so is he of the beast-kind. So be of good cheer and leave care-taking; for care-taking wasteth the body.' Hardly had the peahen done speaking, when the antelope came up to them, thinking to shelter under the shade of the tree, and seeing the two birds, saluted them and said, 'I came to this island to-day, and I have seen none richer in herbage nor more pleasant of habitance.' Then he besought them of company and amity, and they, seeing his friendly behaviour to them, welcomed him and gladly accepted his offer. So they swore friendship one to another and abode in the island in peace and safety, eating and drinking and sleeping in common, till one day there came thither a ship, that had strayed from its course in the sea. It cast anchor near them, and the crew landing, dispersed about the island. They soon caught sight of the three animals and made for them, whereupon the peahen flew up into the tree and the antelope fled into the desert, but the duck abode paralysed (by fear). So they chased her, till they caught her and carried her with them to the ship, whilst she cried out and said, 'Caution availed me nothing against Fate and destiny!' When the peahen saw what had betided the duck, she came down from the tree, saying, 'I see that misfortunes lie in wait for all. But for yonder ship, parting had not befallen between me and this duck, for she was one of the best of friends. Then she flew off and rejoined the antelope, who saluted her and gave her joy of her safety and enquired for the duck, to which she replied, 'The enemy hath taken her, and I loathe the sojourn of this island after her.' Then she wept for the loss of the duck and repeated the following verses:

The day of severance broke my heart in tway. God do the like unto the severance-day!

And also these:

I pray that we may yet foregather once again. That I may tell her all that parting wrought of pain.

The antelope was greatly moved at hearing of their comrade's fate, but dissuaded the peahen from her resolve to leave the island. So they abode there together, eating and drinking in peace and safety, save that they ceased not to mourn for the loss of the duck, and the antelope said to the peahen, 'Thou seest, O my sister, how the folk who came forth of the ship were the means of our severance from the duck and of her destruction; so do thou beware of them and guard thyself from them and from the craft of the son of Adam and his perfidy.' But the peahen replied, 'I am assured that nought caused her death but her neglect to celebrate the praises of God, and indeed I said to her, "Verily I fear for thee, because thou art not careful to praise God; for all things that He hath made do glorify Him, and if any neglect to do so, it leadeth to their destruction."' When the antelope heard the peahen's words, he exclaimed, 'May God make fair thy face!' and betook himself to the celebration of the praises of the Almighty, never after slackening therefrom. And it is said that his form of adoration was as follows: 'Glory be to the Requiter of good and evil, the Lord of glory and dominion!'

THE HERMITS.

There was once a hermit, who served God on a certain mountain, whither resorted a pair of pigeons; and he was wont to make two parts of his daily bread, eating one half himself and giving the other to the pigeons. He prayed also for them, that they might be blest with increase; so they increased and multiplied greatly. Now they resorted only to that mountain, and the reason of their foregathering with the holy man was their assiduity in celebrating the praises of God; for it is said that the pigeons' formula of praise is, 'Glory be to the Creator of all things, Who appointeth to every one his daily bread, Who builded the heavens and spread out the earth like a carpet!' They dwelt thus together, in the happiest of life, they and their brood, till the holy man died, when the company of the pigeons was broken up, and they all dispersed among the towns and villages and mountains.

Now in a certain other mountain there dwelt a shepherd, a man of piety and chastity and understanding; and he had flocks of sheep, which he tended, and made his living by their milk and wool. The mountain aforesaid abounded in trees and pasturage and wild beasts, but the latter had no power over the peasant nor over his flocks; so he continued to dwell therein, in security, taking no thought to the things of the world, by reason of his happiness and assiduity in prayer and devotion, till God ordained that he should fall exceeding sick. So he betook himself to a cavern in the mountain, and his sheep used to go out in the morning to the pasturage and take refuge at night in the cave. Now God was minded to try him and prove his obedience and constancy; so He sent him one of His angels, who came in to him in the semblance of a fair woman and sat down before him. When the shepherd saw the woman seated before him, his flesh shuddered with horror of her and he said to her, 'O woman, what brings thee hither? I have no need of thee, nor is there aught betwixt thee and me that calls for thy coming in to me.' 'O man,' answered she, 'dost thou not note my beauty and grace and the fragrance of my breath and knowest thou not the need women have of men and men of women? Behold, I have chosen to be near thee and desire to enjoy thy company; so who shall forbid thee from me? Indeed, I come to thee willingly and do not withhold myself from thee: there is none with us whom we need fear; and I wish to abide with thee as long as thou sojournest in this mountain and be thy companion. I offer myself to thee, for thou needest the service of women; and if thou know me, thy sickness will leave thee and health return to thee and thou wilt repent thee of having forsworn the company of women during thy past life. Indeed, I give thee good advice: so give ear to my counsel and draw near unto me.' Quoth he, 'Go out from me, O deceitful and perfidious woman! I will not incline to thee nor approach thee. I want not thy company; he who coveteth thee renounceth the future life, and he who coveteth the future life renounceth thee, for thou seduces the first and the last. God the Most High lieth in wait for His servants and woe unto him who is afflicted with thy company!' 'O thou that errest from the truth and wanderest from the path of reason,' answered she, 'turn thy face to me and look upon my charms and profit by my nearness, as did the wise who have gone before thee. Indeed, they were richer than thou in experience and greater of wit; yet they rejected not the society of women, as thou dost, but took their pleasure of them and their company, and it did them no hurt, in body or in soul. Wherefore do thou turn from thy resolve and thou shalt praise the issue of shine affair.' 'All thou sayest I deny and abhor,' rejoined the shepherd, 'and reject all thou offerest; for thou art cunning and perfidious and there is no faith in thee, neither honour. How much foulness cost thou hide under thy beauty and how many a pious man hast thou seduced, whose end was repentance and perdition! Avaunt from me, O thou who devotes thyself to corrupt others!' So saying, he threw his goat's-hair cloak over his eyes, that he might not see her face, and betook himself to calling upon the name of his Lord. When the angel saw the excellence of his obedience (to God), he went out from him and ascended to heaven.

Now hard by the mountain was a village wherein dwelt a pious man, who knew not the other's stead, till one night he saw in a dream one who said to him, 'In such a place near to thee is a pious man: go to him and be at his command.' So when it was day, he set out afoot to go thither, and at the time when the heat was grievous upon him, he came to a tree, which grew beside a spring of running water. He sat down to rest in the shadow of the tree, and birds and beasts came to the spring to drink; but when they saw him, they took fright and fled. Then said he, 'There is no power and no virtue save in God the Most High! I am resting here, to the hurt of the beasts and fowls.' So he rose and went on, blaming himself and saying, 'My tarrying here hath wronged these beasts and birds, and what excuse have I towards my Creator and the Creator of these creatures, for that I was the cause of their flight from their watering-place and their pasture? Alas, my confusion before my Lord on the day when He shall avenge the sheep of the goats!' And he wept and repeated the following verses:

By Allah, if men knew for what they are create, They would not go
     and sleep, unheeding of their fate!
Soon cometh death, then wake and resurrection come; Then judgment
     and reproof and terrors passing great.
Obey me or command, the most of us are like. The dwellers in the
     cave, [FN#2] asleep early and late.

Then he fared on, weeping for that he had driven the birds and beasts from the spring by sitting down under the tree, till he came to the shepherd's dwelling and going in, saluted him. The shepherd returned his greeting and embraced him, weeping and saying, 'What brings thee hither, where no man hath ever come in to me?' Quoth the other, 'I saw in my sleep one who described to me this thy stead and bade me repair to thee and salute thee: so I came, in obedience to the commandment.' The shepherd welcomed him, rejoicing in his company, and they both abode in the cavern, doing fair service to their Lord and living upon the flesh and milk of their sheep, having put away from them wealth and children and other the goods of this world, till there came to them Death, the Certain, the Inevitable. And this is the end of their story."

"O Shehrzad," said King Shehriyar, "thou puttest me out of conceit with my kingdom and makest me repent of having slain so many women and maidens. Hast thou any stories of birds?" "Yes," answered she, and began as follows:

THE WATER-FOWL AND THE TORTOISE

"A water-fowl flew high up into the air and alighted on rock in the midst of a running water. As it sat, behold, the water floated up a carcase, that was swollen and rose high out of the water, and lodged it against the rock. The bird drew near and examining it, found that it was the dead body of a man and saw in it spear and sword wounds. So he said in himself, 'Belike, this was some evil-doer, and a company of men joined themselves together against him and slew him and were at peace from him and his mischief.' Whilst he was marvelling at this, vultures and eagles came down upon the carcase from all sides; which when the water-fowl saw, he was sore affrighted and said, 'I cannot endure to abide here longer.' So he flew away in quest of a place where he might harbour, till the carcase should come to an end and the birds of prey leave it, and stayed not in his flight, till he came to a river with a tree in its midst. He alighted on the tree, troubled and distraught and grieved for his separation from his native place, and said to himself, 'Verily grief and vexation cease not to follow me: I was at my ease, when I saw the carcase, and rejoiced therein exceedingly, saying, "This is a gift of God to me;" but my joy became sorrow and my gladness mourning, for the lions of the birds[FN#3] took it and made prize of it and came between it and me. How can I trust in this world or hope to be secure from misfortune therein? Indeed, the proverb says, "The world is the dwelling of him who hath no dwelling: he who hath no understanding is deceived by it and trusteth in it with his wealth and his child and his family and his folk; nor doth he who is deluded by it leave to rely upon it, walking proudly upon the earth, till he is laid under it and the dust is cast over him by him who was dearest and nearest to him of all men; but nought is better for the noble than patience under its cares and miseries." I have left my native place, and it is abhorrent to me to quit my brethren and friends and loved ones.' Whilst he was thus devising with himself, behold, a tortoise descended into the water and approaching the bird, saluted him, saying, 'O my lord, what hath exiled thee and driven thee afar from thy place?' 'The descent of enemies thereon,' replied the water-fowl; 'for the understanding cannot brook the neighbourhood of his enemy; even as well says the poet:

Whenas on any land the oppressor doth alight, There's nothing left for those, that dwell therein, but flight.'

Quoth the tortoise, 'If the case be as thou sayest, I will not leave thee nor cease to be before thee, that I may do thy need and fulfil thy service; for it is said that there is no sorer desolation than that of him who is an exile, cut off from friends and country; and also that no calamity equals that of severance from virtuous folk; but the best solace for the understanding is to seek companionship in his strangerhood and be patient under adversity. Wherefore I hope that thou wilt find thine account in my company, for I will be to thee a servant and a helper.' 'Verily, thou art right in what thou sayest,' answered the water-fowl; 'for, by my life, I have found grief and pain in separation, what while I have been absent from my stead and sundered from my friends and brethren, seeing that in severance is an admonition to him who will be admonished and matter of thought for him who will take thought. If one find not a companion to console him, good is cut off from him for ever and evil stablished with him eternally; and there is nothing for the wise but to solace himself in every event with brethren and be instant in patience and constancy; for indeed these two are praiseworthy qualities, that uphold one under calamities and shifts of fortune and ward off affliction and consternation, come what will.' 'Beware of sorrow,' rejoined the tortoise, 'for it will corrupt thy life to thee and do away thy fortitude.' And they gave not over converse, till the bird said, 'Never shall I leave to fear the strokes of fortune and the vicissitudes of events.' When the tortoise heard this, he came up to him and kissing him between the eyes, said to him, 'Never may the company of the birds cease to be blest in thee and find good in thy counsel! How shalt thou be burdened with inquietude and harm?' And he went on to comfort the water-fowl and soothe his disquiet, till he became reassured. Then he flew to the place, where the carcase was, and found the birds of prey gone and nothing left of the body but bones; whereupon he returned to the tortoise and acquainted him with this, saying, 'I wish to return to my stead and enjoy the society of my friends; for the wise cannot endure separation from his native place.' So they both went thither and found nought to affright them; whereupon the water-fowl repeated the following verses:

Full many a sorry chance doth light upon a man and fill His life
     with trouble, yet with God the issue bideth still.
His case is sore on him, but when its meshes straitened are To
     att'rest, they relax, although he deem they never will.

So they abode there in peace and gladness, till one day fate led thither a hungry hawk, which drove its talons into the bird's belly and killed him, nor did caution stand him in stead seeing that his hour was come. Now the cause of his death was that he neglected to praise God, and it is said that his form of adoration was as follows, 'Glory be to our Lord in that He ordereth and ordaineth, and glory be to our Lord in that He maketh rich and maketh poor!'"

"O Shehrzad," said the Sultan, "verily, thou overwhelmest me with admonitions and salutary instances! Hast thou any stories of beasts?" "Yes," answered she. "Know, O King, that

THE WOLF AND THE FOX.

A fox and a wolf once dwelt in the same den, harbouring therein together day and night; but the wolf was cruel and oppressive to the fox. They abode thus awhile, till one day the fox exhorted the wolf to use gentle dealing and leave evil-doing, saying, 'If thou persist in thine arrogance, belike God will give the son of Adam power over thee, for he is past master in guile and craft and knavery. By his devices he brings down the birds from the air and draws the fish forth of the waters and sunders mountains in twain and transports them from place to place. All this is of his craft and wiliness; wherefore do thou betake thyself to equity and fair dealing and leave evil and tyranny; and thou shalt fare the better for it.' But the wolf rejected his counsel and answered him roughly, saying, 'Thou hast no call to speak of matters of weight and stress.' And he dealt the fox a buffet that laid him senseless; but, when he revived, he smiled in the wolf's face and excused himself for his unseemly speech, repeating the following verses:

If I have sinned in aught that's worthy of reproach Or if I've
     made default against the love of you,
Lo, I repent my fault; so let thy clemency The sinner comprehend,
     that doth for pardon sue.

The wolf accepted his excuse and held his hand from him, saying, 'Speak not of that which concerns thee not, or thou shalt hear what will not please thee.' 'I hear and obey,' answered the fox; 'henceforth I will abstain from what pleaseth thee not; for the sage says, "Speak thou not of that whereof thou art not asked; answer not, when thou art not called upon; leave that which concerns thee not for that which does concern thee and lavish not good counsel on the wicked, for they will repay thee therefor with evil."' And he smiled in the wolf's face, but in his heart he meditated treachery against him and said in himself, 'Needs must I compass the destruction of this wolf.' So he bore with his ill usage, saying in himself, 'Verily arrogance and falsehood lead to perdition and cast into confusion, and it is said, "He who is arrogant suffers and he who is ignorant repents and he who fears is safe: fair dealing is a characteristic of the noble, and gentle manners are the noblest of gains." It behoves me to dissemble with this tyrant, and needs must he be cast down.' Then said he to the wolf, 'Verily, the Lord pardons his erring servant and relents towards him, if he confess his sins; and I am a weak slave and have sinned in presuming to counsel thee. If thou knewest the pain that befell me by thy buffet, thou wouldst see that an elephant could not stand against it nor endure it: but I complain not of the pain of the blow, because of the contentment that hath betided me through it; for though it was exceeding grievous to me, yet its issue was gladness. As saith the sage, "The blow of the teacher is at first exceeding grievous, but the end of it is sweeter than clarified honey."' Quoth the wolf, 'I pardon thine offence and pass over thy fault; but be thou ware of my strength and avow thyself my slave; for thou knowest how rigorously I deal with those that transgress against me.' Thereupon the fox prostrated himself to the wolf, saying, 'May God prolong thy life and mayst thou cease never to subdue thine enemies!' And he abode in fear of the wolf and ceased not to wheedle him and dissemble with him.

One day, the fox came to a vineyard and saw a breach in its wall; but he mistrusted it and said in himself, 'Verily, there must be some reason for this breach and the adage says, "He who sees a cleft in the earth and doth not shun it or be wary in going up to it, is self-deluded and exposes himself to destruction." Indeed, it is well known that some folk make a semblant of a fox in their vineyards, even to setting before it grapes in dishes, that foxes may see it and come to it and fall into destruction. Meseems, this breach is a snare and the proverb says, "Prudence is the half of cleverness." Now prudence requires that I examine this breach and see if there be ought therein that may lead to perdition; and covetise shall not make me cast myself into destruction.' So he went up to the breach and examining it warily, discovered a deep pit, lightly covered (with boughs and earth), which the owner of the vineyard had dug, thinking to trap therein the wild beasts that laid waste his vines. Then he drew back from it, saying in himself, 'I have found it as I expected. Praised be God that I was wary of it! I hope that my enemy the wolf, who makes my life miserable, will fall into it; so will the vineyard be left to me and I shall enjoy it alone and dwell therein in peace.' So saying, he shook his head and laughed aloud, repeating the following verses:

Would God I might see, even now, A wolf fallen into yon pit,
That this long time hath tortured my heart And made me quaff
     bitters, God wit!
God grant I may live and be spared And eke of the wolf be made
     quit!
So the vineyard of him shall be rid And I find my purchase in it.

Then he returned in haste to the wolf and said to him, 'God hath made plain the way for thee into the vineyard, without toil. This is of thy good luck; so mayst thou enjoy the easy booty and the plentiful provant that God hath opened up to thee without trouble!' 'What proof hast thou of what thou sayest?' asked the wolf; and the fox answered, 'I went up to the vineyard and found that the owner was dead, having been devoured by wolves: so I entered and saw the fruit shining on the trees.' The wolf misdoubted not of the fox's report and gluttony got hold on him; so he rose and repaired to the breach, blinded by greed; whilst the fox stopped short and lay as one dead, applying to the case the following verse:

Lustest after Leila's favours? Look thou rather bear in mind That 'tis covetise plays havoc with the necks of human kind.

Then said he to the wolf, 'Enter the vineyard: thou art spared the trouble of climbing, for the wall is broken down, and with God be the rest of the benefit.' So the wolf went on, thinking to enter the vineyard; but when he came to the middle of the covering (of the pit), he fell in; whereupon the fox shook for delight and gladness; his care and concern left him and he sang out for joy and recited the following verses:

Fortune hath taken ruth on my case; Yea, she hath pitied the
     length of my pain,
Doing away from me that which I feared And granting me that
     whereto I was fain.
So I will pardon her all the sins She sinned against me once and
     again;
Since for the wolf there is no escape From certain ruin and
     bitter bane,
And now the vineyard is all my own And no fool sharer in my
     domain.

Then he looked into the pit, and seeing the wolf weeping for sorrow and repentance over himself, wept with him; whereupon the wolf raised his head to him and said, 'Is it of pity for me thou weepest, O Aboulhussein?' [FN#4] 'Not so,' answered the fox, 'by Him who cast thee into the pit! I weep for the length of thy past life and for regret that thou didst not sooner fall into the pit; for hadst thou done so before I met with thee, I had been at peace: but thou wast spared till the fulfilment of thine allotted term.' The wolf thought he was jesting and said, 'O sinner, go to my mother and tell her what has befallen me, so haply she may make shift for my release.' 'Verily,' answered the fox, 'the excess of thy gluttony and thy much greed have brought thee to destruction, since thou art fallen into a pit whence thou wilt never escape. O witless wolf, knowest thou not the proverb, "He who taketh no thought to results, Fate is no friend to him, nor shall he be safe from perils?"' 'O Aboulhussein,' said the wolf, 'thou wast wont to show me affection and covet my friendship and fear the greatness of my strength. Bear me not malice for that I did with thee, for he who hath power and forgiveth, his reward is with God; even as saith the poet:

Sow benefits aye, though in other than fitting soil. A benefit's
     never lost, wherever it may be sown;
And though time tarry full long to bring it to harvest-tide, Yet
     no man reapeth its fruit, save he who sowed it alone.'

'O most witless of beasts of prey and stupidest of the wildings of the earth,' rejoined the fox, 'hast thou forgotten thine arrogance and pride and tyranny and how thou disregardedst the due of comradeship and wouldst not take counsel by what the poet says:

Do no oppression, whilst the power thereto is in thine hand, For
     still in danger of revenge the sad oppressor goes.
Thine eyes will sleep anon, what while the opprest, on wake, call
     down Curses upon thee, and God's eye shuts never in repose.'

'O Aboulhussein,' replied the wolf, 'reproach me not for past offences; for forgiveness is expected of the noble, and the practice of kindness is the best of treasures. How well says the poet:

Hasten to do good works, whenever thou hast the power, For thou art not able thereto at every season and hour.'

And he went on to humble himself to the fox and say to him, 'Haply, thou canst do somewhat to deliver me from destruction.' 'O witless, deluded, perfidious, crafty wolf,' answered the fox, 'hope not for deliverance, for this is but the just reward of thy foul dealing.' Then he laughed from ear to ear and repeated the following verses:

A truce to thy strife to beguile me! For nothing of me shalt thou gain. Thy prayers are but idle; thou sowedst Vexation; so reap it amain.

'O gentlest of beasts of prey,' said the wolf, 'I deem thee too faithful to leave me in this pit.' Then he wept and sighed and recited the following verses, whilst the tears streamed from his eyes:

O thou, whose kindnesses to me are more than one, I trow, Whose
     bounties unto me vouchsafed are countless as the sand,
No shift of fortune in my time has ever fall'n on me, But I have
     found thee ready still to take me by the hand.

'O stupid enemy,' said the fox, 'how art thou reduced to humility and obsequiousness and abjection and submission, after disdain and pride and tyranny and arrogance! Verily, I companied with thee and cajoled thee but for fear of thy violence and not in hope of fair treatment from thee: but now trembling is come upon thee and vengeance hath overtaken thee.' And he repeated the following verses:

O thou that for aye on beguiling art bent, Thou'rt fall'n in the
     snare of thine evil intent.
So taste of the anguish that knows no relent And be with the rest
     of the wolven forspent!

'O clement one,' replied the wolf, 'speak not with the tongue of despite nor look with its eyes; but fulfil the covenant of fellowship with me, ere the time for action pass away. Rise, make shift to get me a rope and tie one end of it to a tree; then let the other end down to me, that I may lay hold of it, so haply I may escape from this my strait, and I will give thee all my hand possesseth of treasures.' Quoth the fox, 'Thou persistest in talk of that wherein thy deliverance is not. Hope not for this, for thou shalt not get of me wherewithal to save thyself; but call to mind thy past ill deeds and the craft and perfidy thou didst imagine against me and bethink thee how near thou art to being stoned to death. For know that thy soul is about to leave the world and cease and depart from it; so shalt thou come to destruction and evil is the abiding-place to which thou goest!' 'O Aboulhussein,' rejoined the wolf, 'hasten to return to friendliness and persist not in this rancour. Know that he, who saves a soul from perdition, is as if he had restored it to life, and he, who saves a soul alive, is as if he had saved all mankind. Do not ensue wickedness, for the wise forbid it: and it were indeed the most manifest wickedness to leave me in this pit to drink the agony of death and look upon destruction, whenas it lies in thy power to deliver me from my strait. Wherefore go thou about to release me and deal benevolently with me.' 'O thou barbarous wretch,' answered the fox, 'I liken thee, because of the fairness of thy professions and the foulness of thine intent and thy practice, to the hawk with the partridge.' 'How so ?' asked the wolf; and the fox said,

The Hawk and the Partridge.

'I entered a vineyard one day and saw a hawk stoop upon a partridge and seize it: but the partridge escaped from him and entering its nest, hid itself there. The hawk followed and called out to it, saying, "O wittol, I saw thee in the desert, hungry, and took pity on thee; so I gathered grain for thee and took hold of thee that thou mightest eat; but thou fledst, wherefore I know not, except it were to slight me. So come out and take the grain I have brought thee to eat, and much good may it do thee!" The partridge believed what he said and came out, whereupon the hawk stuck his talons into him and seized him. "Is this that which thou saidst thou hadst brought me from the desert," cried the partridge, "and of which thou badest me eat, saying, 'Much good may it do thee?' Thou hast lied to me and may God make what thou eatest of my flesh to be a deadly poison in thy maw!" So when the hawk had eaten the partridge, his feathers fell off and his strength failed and he died on the spot. Know, then, O wolf, that he, who digs a pit for his brother, soon falls into it himself, and thou first dealtest perfidiously with me.' 'Spare me this talk and these moral instances,' said the wolf, 'and remind me not of my former ill deeds, for the sorry plight I am in suffices me, seeing that I am fallen into a place, in which even my enemy would pity me, to say nothing of my friend. So make thou some shift to deliver me and be thou thereby my saviour. If this cause thee aught of hardship, think that a true friend will endure the sorest travail for his friend's sake and risk his life to deliver him from perdition; and indeed it hath been said, "A tender friend is better than an own brother." So if thou bestir thyself and help me and deliver me, I will gather thee such store of gear, as shall be a provision for thee against the time of want, and teach thee rare tricks to gain access to fruitful vineyards and strip the fruit-laden trees.' 'How excellent,' rejoined the fox, laughing, 'is what the learned say of those who are past measure ignorant, like unto thee!' 'What do they say?' asked the wolf; and the fox answered, 'They say that the gross of body are gross of nature, far from understanding and nigh unto ignorance. As for thy saying, O perfidious, stupid self-deceiver, that a friend should suffer hardship to succour his friend, it is true, as thou sayest: but tell me, of thine ignorance and poverty of wit, how can I be a true friend to thee, considering thy treachery? Dost thou count me thy friend? Behold, I am thine enemy, that exulteth in thy misfortune; and couldst thou understand it, this word were sorer to thee than slaughter and arrow-shot. As for thy promise to provide me a store against the time of want and teach me tricks to enter vineyards and spoil fruit-trees, how comes it, O crafty traitor, that thou knowest not a trick to save thyself from destruction? How far art thou from profiting thyself and how far am I from lending ear to thy speech! If thou have any tricks, make shift for thyself to save thee from this peril, wherefrom I pray God to make thine escape distant! So look, O idiot, if there be any trick with thee and save thyself from death therewith, before thou lavish instruction on others. But thou art like a certain sick man, who went to another, suffering from the same disease, and said to him, "Shall I heal thee of thy disease?" "Why dost thou not begin by healing thyself?" answered the other; so he left him and went his way. And thou, O ignorant wolf, art like this; so stay where thou art and be patient under what hath befallen thee.' When the wolf heard what the fox said, he knew he had no hope from him; so he wept for himself, saying, 'Verily, I have been heedless of mine affair; but if God deliver me from this scrape, I will assuredly repent of my arrogance towards those who are weaker than I and will put on wool and go upon the mountains, celebrating the praises of God the Most High and fearing His wrath. Yea, I will sunder myself from all the other wild beasts and feed the poor and those who fight for the Faith.' Then he wept and lamented, till the heart of the fox was softened and he took pity on him, whenas he heard his humble words and his professions of repentance for his past arrogance and tyranny. So he sprang up joyfully and going to the brink of the pit, sat down on his hind quarters and let his tail fall therein; whereupon the wolf arose and putting out his paw, pulled the fox's tail, so that he fell down into the pit with him. Then said the wolf, 'O fox of little ruth, why didst thou exult over me, thou that wast my companion and under my dominion? Now thou art fallen into the pit with me and retribution hath soon overtaken thee. Verily, the wise have said, "If one of you reproach his brother with sucking the teats of a bitch, he also shall suck her," and how well saith the poet:

When fortune's blows on some fall hard and heavily, With others
     of our kind as friend encampeth she.
So say to those who joy in our distress, "Awake; For those who
     mock our woes shall suffer even as we."

And death in company is the best of things; wherefore I will make haste to kill thee, ere thou see me killed.' 'Alas! Alas!' said the fox in himself. 'I am fallen in with this tyrant, and my case calls for the use of craft and cunning; for indeed it is said that a woman fashions her ornaments for the festival day, and quoth the proverb, "I have kept thee, O my tear, against the time of my distress!" Except I make shift to circumvent this overbearing beast, I am lost without recourse; and how well says the poet:

Provide thee by craft, for thou liv'st in a time Whose folk are
     as lions that lurk in a wood,
And set thou the mill-stream of knavery abroach, That the mill of
     subsistence may grind for thy food,
And pluck the fruits boldly; but if they escape From thy grasp,
     then content thee with hay to thy food.'

Then said he to the wolf, 'Hasten not to slay me, for that is not my desert and thou wouldst repent it, O valiant beast, lord of might and exceeding prowess! If thou hold thy hand and consider what I shall tell thee, thou wilt know that which I purpose; but if thou hasten to kill me, it will profit thee nothing and we shall both die here.' 'O wily deceiver,' answered the wolf, 'how hopest thou to work my deliverance and thine own, that thou wouldst have me grant thee time? Speak and let me know thy purpose.' 'As for my purpose,' replied the fox, 'it was such as deserves that thou reward me handsomely for it; for when I heard thy promises and thy confession of thy past ill conduct and regrets for not having earlier repented and done good and thy vows, shouldst thou escape from this thy stress, to leave harming thy fellows and others and forswear eating grapes and other fruits and devote thyself to humility and cut thy claws and break thy teeth and don wool and offer thyself as a sacrifice to God the Most High,—when (I say), I heard thy repentance and vows of amendment, compassion took me for thee, though before I was anxious for thy destruction, and I felt bound to save thee from this thy present plight. So I let down my tail, that thou mightest grasp it and make thine escape. Yet wouldst thou not put off thy wonted violence and brutality nor soughtest to save thyself by fair means, but gavest me such a tug that I thought my soul would depart my body, so that thou and I are become involved in the same stead of ruin and death. There is but one thing can deliver us, to which if thou agree, we shall both escape; and after it behoves thee to keep the vows thou hast made, and I will be thy friend.' 'What is it thou hast to propose?' asked the wolf. 'It is,' answered the fox, 'that thou stand up, and I will climb up on to thy head and so bring myself nigh on a level with the surface of the earth. Then will I give a spring and as soon as I reach the ground, I will fetch thee what thou mayst lay hold of and make thine escape.' 'I have no faith in thy word,' rejoined the wolf, 'for the wise have said, "He who practices trust in the place of hate, errs," and "He who trusts in the faithless is a dupe; he who tries those that have been [already] tried (and found wanting) shall reap repentance and his days shall pass away without profit; and he who cannot distinguish between cases, giving each its due part, his good fortune will be small and his afflictions many." How well saith the poet:

Be thy thought ever ill and of all men beware; Suspicion of good
     parts the helpfullest was e'er.
For nothing brings a man to peril and distress As doth the doing
     good (to men) and thinking fair.

And another:

Be constant ever in suspect; 'twill save thee aye anew; For he
     who lives a wakeful life, his troubles are but few.
Meet thou the foeman in thy way with open, smiling face; But in
     thy heart set up a host shall battle with him do.

And yet another:

Thy worst of foes is thy nearest friend, in whom thou puttest
     trust; So look thou be on thy guard with men and use them
     warily aye.
'Tis weakness to augur well of fate; think rather ill of it. And
     be in fear of its shifts and tricks, lest it should thee
     bewray.'

'Verily,' said the fox, 'distrust is not to be commended in every case; on the contrary, a confiding disposition is the characteristic of a noble nature and its issue is freedom from terrors. Now it behoves thee, O wolf, to put in practice some device for thy deliverance from this thou art in and the escape of us both will be better than our death: so leave thy distrust and rancour; for if thou trust in me, one of two things will happen; either I shall bring thee whereof to lay hold and escape, or I shall play thee false and save myself and leave thee; and this latter may not be, for I am not safe from falling into some such strait as this thou art in, which would be fitting punishment of perfidy. Indeed the adage saith, "Faith is fair and perfidy foul." It behoves thee, therefore, to trust in me, for I am not ignorant of the vicissitudes of Fortune: so delay not to contrive some device for our deliverance, for the case is too urgent for further talk.' 'To tell thee the truth,' replied the wolf, 'for all my want of confidence in thy fidelity, I knew what was in thy mind and that thou wast minded to deliver me, whenas thou heardest my repentance, and I said in myself, "If what he asserts be true, he will have repaired the ill he did: and if false, it rests with God to requite him." So, behold, I accept thy proposal, and if thou betray me, may thy perfidy be the cause of thy destruction!' Then he stood upright in the pit and taking the fox upon his shoulders, raised him to the level of the ground, whereupon the latter gave a spring and lighted on the surface of the earth. When he found himself in safety, he fell down senseless, and the wolf said to him, 'O my friend, neglect not my case and delay not to deliver me.' The fox laughed derisively and replied, 'O dupe, it was but my laughing at thee and making mock of thee that threw me into thy hands: for when I heard thee profess repentance, mirth and gladness seized me and I frisked about and danced and made merry, so that my tail fell down into the pit and thou caughtest hold of it and draggedst me down with thee. Why should I be other than a helper in thy destruction, seeing that thou art of the host of the devil! I dreamt yesterday that I danced at thy wedding and related my dream to an interpreter, who told me that I should fall into a great danger and escape from it. So now I know that my falling into thy hand and my escape are the fulfilment of my dream, and thou, O ignorant dupe, knowest me for thine enemy; so how canst thou, of thine ignorance and lack of wit, hope for deliverance at my hands, after all thou hast heard of harsh words from me, and wherefore should I endeavour for thy deliverance, whenas the wise have said, "In the death of the wicked is peace for mankind and purgation for the earth?" Yet, but that I fear to reap more affliction by keeping faith with thee than could follow perfidy, I would do my endeavour to save thee.' When the wolf heard this, he bit his paws for despite and was at his wit's end what to do. Then he gave the fox fair words, but this availed nought; so he said to him softly, 'Verily, you foxes are the most pleasant spoken of folk and the subtlest in jest, and this is but a jest of thine; but all times are not good for sport and jesting.' 'O dolt,' answered the fox, 'jesting hath a limit, that the jester overpasses not, and deem not that God will again give thee power over me, after having once delivered me from thee.' Quoth the wolf, 'It behoves thee to endeavour for my release, by reason of our brotherhood and fellowship, and if thou deliver me, I will assuredly make fair thy reward.' 'The wise say,' rejoined the fox,' "Fraternize not with the ignorant and wicked, for he will shame thee and not adorn thee,—nor with the liar, for if thou do good, he will hide it, and if evil, he will publish it;" and again, "There is help for everything but death: all may be mended, save natural depravity, and everything may be warded off, except Fate." As for the reward thou promisest me, I liken thee therein to the serpent that fled from the charmer. A man saw her affrighted and said to her, "What ails thee, O serpent?" Quoth she, "I am fleeing from the serpent-charmer, who is in chase of me, and if thou wilt save me and hide me with thee, I will make fair thy recompense and do thee all manner of kindness." So he took her, moved both by desire of the promised recompense and a wish to find favour with God, and hid her in his bosom. When the charmer had passed and gone his way and the serpent had no longer any reason to fear, he said to her, "Where is the recompense thou didst promise me? Behold, I have saved thee from that thou dreadest." "Tell me where I shall bite thee," replied she, "for thou knowest we overpass not that recompense." So saying, she gave him a bite, of which he died. And I liken thee, O dullard, to the serpent in her dealings with the man. Hast thou not heard what the poet says?

Trust not in one in whose heart thou hast made wrath to abide And
     thinkest his anger at last is over and pacified.
Verily vipers, though smooth and soft to the feel and the eye And
     graceful of movements they be, yet death-dealing venom they
     hide.'

'O glib-tongue, lord of the fair face,' said the wolf, 'thou art not ignorant of my case and of men's fear of me and knowest how I assault the strong places and root up the vines. Wherefore, do as I bid thee and bear thyself to me as a servant to his lord.' 'O stupid dullard,' answered the fox, 'that seekest a vain thing, I marvel at thy stupidity and effrontery, in that thou biddest me serve thee and order myself towards thee as I were a slave bought with thy money; but thou shalt see what is in store for thee, in the way of breaking thy head with stones and knocking out thy traitor's teeth.' So saying, he went up to a hill that gave upon the vineyard and standing there, called out to the people of the place, nor did he give over crying, till he woke them and they, seeing him, came up to him in haste. He held his ground till they drew near him and near the pit, when he turned and fled. So they looked into the pit and spying the wolf, fell to pelting him with heavy stones, nor did they leave smiting him with sticks and stones and piercing him with lances, till they killed him and went away; whereupon the fox returned to the pit and looking down, saw the wolf dead: so he wagged his head for excess of joy and chanted the following verses:

Fate took the soul o' the wolf and snatched it far away; Foul
     fall it for a soul that's lost and perished aye!
How oft, O Gaffer Grim, my ruin hast thou sought! But unrelenting
     bale is fallen on thee this day.
Thou fellst into a pit, wherein there's none may fall Except the
     blasts of death blow on him for a prey.

Then he abode alone in the vineyard, secure and fearing no hurt.

THE MOUSE AND THE WEASEL.

A mouse and a weasel once dwelt in the house of a poor peasant, one of whose friends fell sick and the doctor prescribed him husked sesame. So he sought of one of his comrades sesame and gave the peasant a measure thereof to husk for him; and he carried it home to his wife and bade her dress it. So she steeped it and husked it and spread it out to dry. When the weasel saw the grain, he came up to it and fell to carrying it away to his hole, nor stinted all day, till he had borne off the most of it. Presently, in came the peasant's wife, and seeing great part of the sesame gone, stood awhile wondering; after which she sat down to watch and find out the cause. After awhile, out came the weasel to carry off more of the grain, but spying the woman seated there, knew that she was on the watch for him and said to himself, 'Verily, this affair is like to end ill. I fear me this woman is on the watch for me and Fortune is no friend to those who look not to the issues: so I must do a fair deed, whereby I may manifest my innocence and wash out all the ill I have done.' So saying, he began to take of the sesame in his hole and carry it out and lay it back upon the rest. The woman stood by and seeing the weasel do thus, said in herself, 'Verily, this is not the thief, for he brings it back from the hole of him that stole it and returns it to its place. Indeed, he hath done us a kindness in restoring us the sesame and the reward of those that do us good is that we do them the like. It is clear that this is not he who stole the grain. But I will not leave watching till I find out who is the thief.' The weasel guessed what was in her mind, so he went to the mouse and said to her, 'O my sister, there is no good in him who does not observe the claims of neighbourship and shows no constancy in friendship.' 'True, O my friend,' answered the mouse, 'and I delight in thee and in thy neighbourhood; but what is the motive of thy speech?' Quoth the weasel, 'The master of the house has brought home sesame and has eaten his fill of it, he and his family, and left much; every living soul has eaten of it, and if thou take of it in thy turn, thou art worthier thereof than any other.' This pleased the mouse and she chirped and danced and frisked her ears and tail, and greed for the grain deluded her; so she rose at once and issuing forth of her hole, saw the sesame peeled and dry, shining with whiteness, and the woman sitting watching, armed with a stick. The mouse could not contain herself, but taking no thought to the issue of the affair, ran up to the sesame and fell to messing it and eating of it; whereupon the woman smote her with the stick and cleft her head in twain: so her greed and heedlessness of the issue of her actions led to her destruction."

"By Allah," said the Sultan to Shehrzad, "this is a goodly story! Hast thou any story bearing upon the beauty of true friendship and the observance of its obligations in time of distress and rescuing from destruction?" "Yes, answered she; "it hath teached me that

THE CAT AND THE CROW.

A crow and a cat once lived in brotherhood. One day, as they were together under a tree, they spied a leopard making towards them, of which they had not been ware, till he was close upon them. The crow at once flew up to the top of the tree; but the cat abode confounded and said to the crow, 'O my friend, hast thou no device to save me? All my hope is in thee.' 'Indeed,' answered the crow, 'it behoveth brethren, in case of need, to cast about for a device, whenas any peril overtakes them, and right well saith the poet:

He is a right true friend who is with thee indeed And will
     himself undo, to help thee in thy need,
Who, when love's severance is by evil fate decreed, To join your
     sundered lives will risk his own and bleed.'

Now hard by the tree were shepherds with their dogs; so the crow flew towards them and smote the face of the earth with his wings, cawing and crying out, to draw their attention. Then he went up to one of the dogs and flapped his wings in his eyes and flew up a little way, whilst the dog ran after him, thinking to catch him. Presently, one of the shepherds raised his head and saw the bird flying near the ground and lighting now and then; so he followed him, and the crow gave not over flying just out of the dogs' reach and tempting them to pursue and snap at him: but as soon as they came near him, he would fly up a little; and so he brought them to the tree. When they saw the leopard, they rushed upon it, and it turned and fled. Now the leopard thought to eat the cat, but the latter was saved by the craft of its friend the crow. This story, O King, shows that the friendship of the virtuous saves and delivers from difficulties and dangers.

THE FOX AND THE CROW.

A fox once dwelt in a cave of a certain mountain, and as often as a cub was born to him and grew stout, he would eat it, for, except he did so, he had died of hunger; and this was grievous to him. Now on the top of the same mountain a crow had made his nest, and the fox said to himself, 'I have a mind to strike up a friendship with this crow and make a comrade of him, that he may help me to my day's meat, for he can do what I cannot.' So he made for the crow's stead, and when he came within earshot, he saluted him, saying, 'O my neighbour, verily a true-believer hath two claims upon his true-believing neighbour, that of neighbourliness and that of community of faith; and know, O my friend, that thou art my neighbour and hast a claim upon me, which it behoves me to observe, the more that I have been long thy neighbour. Moreover, God hath set in my breast a store of love to thee, that bids me speak thee fair and solicit thy friendship. What sayst thou?' 'Verily,' answered the crow, 'the best speech is that which is soothest, and most like thou speakest with thy tongue that which is not in thy heart. I fear lest thy friendship be but of the tongue, outward, and shine enmity of the heart, inward; for that thou art the Eater and I the Eaten, and to hold aloof one from the other were more apt to us than friendship and fellowship. What, then, maketh thee seek that thou mayst not come at and desire what may not be, seeing that thou art of the beast and I of the bird kind? Verily, this brotherhood [thou profferest] may not be, neither were it seemly.' He who knoweth the abiding-place of excellent things,' rejoined the fox, 'betters choice in what he chooses therefrom, so haply he may win to advantage his brethren; and indeed I should love to be near thee and I have chosen thy companionship, to the end that we may help one another to our several desires; and success shall surely wait upon our loves. I have store of tales of the goodliness of friendship, which, an it like thee, I will relate to thee.' 'Thou hast my leave,' answered the crow; 'let me hear thy story and weigh it and judge of thine intent thereby.' 'Hear then, O my friend,' rejoined the fox, 'that which is told of a mouse and a flea and which bears out what I have said to thee.' 'How so?' asked the crow. 'It is said,' answered the fox, 'that

The Mouse and the Flea.

A mouse once dwelt in the house of a rich and busy merchant. One night, a flea took shelter in the merchant's bed and finding his body soft and being athirst, drank of his blood. The smart of the bite awoke the merchant, who sat up and called to his serving men and maids. So they hastened to him and tucking up their sleeves, fell to searching for the flea. As soon as the latter was ware of the search, he turned to flee and happening on the mouse's hole, entered it. When the mouse saw him, she said to him, "What brings thee in to me, seeing that thou art not of my kind and canst not therefore be assured of safety from violence or ill-usage?" "Verily," answered the flea, "I took refuge in thy dwelling from slaughter and come to thee, seeking thy protection and not anywise coveting thy house, nor shall aught of mischief betide thee from me nor aught to make thee leave it. Nay, I hope to repay thy favours to me with all good, and thou shalt assuredly see and praise the issue of my words." "If the case be as thou sayest," answered the mouse, "be at thine ease here; for nought shall betide thee, save what may pleasure thee; there shall fall on thee rain of peace alone nor shall aught befall thee, but what befalls me. I will give thee my love without stint and do not thou regret thy loss of the merchant's blood nor lament for thy subsistence from him, but be content with what little of sufficient sustenance thou canst lightly come by; for indeed this is the safer for thee, and I have heard that one of the moral poets saith as follows:

I have trodden the road of content and retirement And lived out
     my life with whatever betided;
With a morsel of bread and a draught of cold water, Coarse salt
     and patched garments content I abided.
If God willed it, He made my life easy of living; Else, I was
     contented with what He provided."

"O my sister," rejoined the flea, "I hearken to thine injunction and submit myself to yield thee obedience, nor have I power to gainsay thee, till life be fulfilled, in this fair intent." "Purity of intent suffices to sincere affection," replied the mouse. So love befell and was contracted between them and after this, the flea used (by night) to go to the merchant's bed and not exceed moderation (in sucking his blood) and harbour with the mouse by day in the latter's hole. One night, the merchant brought home great store of dinars and began to turn them over. When the mouse heard the chink of the coin, she put her head out of her hole and gazed at it, till the merchant laid it under his pillow and went to sleep, when she said to the flea, "Seest thou not the favourable opportunity and the great good fortune! Hast thou any device to bring us to our desire of yonder dinars?" "Verily," answered the flea, "it is not good for one to strive for aught, but if he be able to compass his desire; for if he lack of ableness thereto, he falls into that of which he should be ware and attains not his wish for weakness, though he use all possible cunning, like the sparrow that picks up grain and falls into the net and is caught by the fowler. Thou hast no strength to take the dinars and carry them into thy hole, nor can I do this; on the contrary, I could not lift a single dinar; so what hast thou to do with them?" Quoth the mouse, "I have made me these seventy openings, whence I may go out, and set apart a place for things of price, strong and safe; and if thou canst contrive to get the merchant out of the house, I doubt not of success, so Fate aid me." "I will engage to get him out of the house for thee," answered the flea and going to the merchant's bed, gave him a terrible bite, such as he had never before felt, then fled to a place of safety. The merchant awoke and sought for the flea, but finding it not, lay down again on his other side. Then came the flea and bit him again, more sharply than before. So he lost patience and leaving his bed, went out and lay down on the bench before the door and slept there and awoke not till the morning. Meanwhile the mouse came out and fell to carrying the dinars into her hole, till not one was left; and when it was day, the merchant began to accuse the folk and imagine all manner of things. And know, O wise, clear-sighted and experienced crow (continued the fox), that I only tell thee this to the intent that thou mayst reap the recompense of thy goodness to me, even as the mouse reaped the reward of her kindness to the flea; for see how he repaid her and requited her with the goodliest of requitals.' Quoth the crow, 'It lies with the benefactor to show benevolence or not; nor is it incumbent on us to behave kindly to whoso seeks an impossible connection. If I show thee favour, who art by nature my enemy, I am the cause of my own destruction, and thou, O fox, art full of craft and cunning. Now those, whose characteristics these are, are not to be trusted upon oath, and he who is not to be trusted upon oath, there is no good faith in him. I heard but late of thy perfidious dealing with thy comrade the wolf and how thou leddest him into destruction by thy perfidy and guile, and this though he was of thine own kind and thou hadst long companied with him; yet didst thou not spare him; and if thou didst thus with thy fellow, that was of thine own kind, how can I have confidence in thy fidelity and what would be thy dealing with thine enemy of other than thy kind? Nor can I liken thee and me but to the Falcon and the Birds.' 'How so?' asked the fox. 'They say,' answered the crow, 'that

The Falcon and the Birds.

There was once a falcon who was a cruel tyrant in the days of his youth, so that the beasts of prey of the air and of the earth feared him and none was safe from his mischief; and many were the instances of his tyranny, for he did nothing but oppress and injure all the other birds. As the years passed over him, he grew weak and his strength failed, so that he was oppressed with hunger; but his cunning increased with the waning of his strength and he redoubled in his endeavour and determined to go to the general rendezvous of the birds, that he might eat their leavings, and in this manner he gained his living by cunning, whenas he could do so no longer by strength and violence. And thou, O fox, art like this: if thy strength fail thee, thy cunning fails not; and I doubt not that thy seeking my friendship is a device to get thy subsistence; but I am none of those who put themselves at thy mercy, for God hath given me strength in my wings and caution in my heart and sight in my eyes, and I know that he who apeth a stronger than he, wearieth himself and is often destroyed, wherefore I fear for thee lest, if thou ape a stronger than thou, there befall thee what befell the sparrow.' 'What befell the sparrow?' asked the fox. 'I conjure thee, by Allah, to tell me his story.' 'I have heard,' replied the crow, 'that

The Sparrow and the Eagle.

A sparrow was once hovering over a sheep-fold, when he saw a great eagle swoop down upon a lamb and carry it off in his claws. Thereupon the sparrow clapped his wings and said, "I will do even as the eagle hath done;" and he conceited himself and aped a greater than he. So he flew down forthright and lighted on the back of a fat ram, with a thick fleece that was become matted, by his lying in his dung and stale, till it was like felt. As soon as the sparrow lighted on the sheep's back, he clapped his wings and would have flown away, but his feet became tangled in the wool and he could not win free. All this while the shepherd was looking on, having seen as well what happened with the eagle as with the sparrow; so he came up to the latter in a rage and seized him. Then he plucked out his wing-feathers and tying his feet with a twine, carried him to his children and threw him to them. "What is this?" asked they and he answered, "This is one that aped a greater than himself and came to grief." Now thou, O fox,' continued the crow, 'art like this and I would have thee beware of aping a greater than thou, lest thou perish. This is all I have to say to thee; so go from me in peace.' When the fox despaired of the crow's friendship, he turned away, groaning and gnashing his teeth for sorrow and disappointment, which when the crow heard, he said to him, 'O fox, why dost thou gnash thy teeth?' 'Because I find thee wilier than myself,' answered the fox and made off to his den."

"O Shehrzad," said the Sultan, "how excellent and delightful are these thy stories! Hast thou more of the like edifying tales?" "It is said," answered she, "that

THE HEDGEHOG AND THE PIGEONS.

A hedgehog once took up his abode under a palm-tree, on which roosted a pair of wood-pigeons, that had made their nest there and lived an easy life, and he said to himself, 'These pigeons eat of the fruit of the palm-tree, and I have no means of getting at it; but needs must I go about with them.' So he dug a hole at the foot of the palm-tree and took up his lodging there, he and his wife. Moreover, he made a place of prayer beside the hole, in which he shut himself and made a show of piety and abstinence and renunciation of the world. The male pigeon saw him praying and worshipping and inclined to him for his much devoutness and said to him, 'How long hast thou been thus?' 'Thirty years,' replied the hedgehog. 'What is thy food?' asked the bird and the other answered, 'What falls from the palm-tree.' 'And what is thy clothing?' asked the pigeon. 'Prickles,' replied the hedgehog; 'I profit by their roughness.' 'And why,' continued the bird, 'hast thou chosen this place rather than another?' 'I chose it,' answered the hedgehog, 'that I might guide the erring into the right way and teach the ignorant.' 'I had thought thee other-guise than this,' rejoined the pigeon; but now I feel a yearning for that which is with thee.' Quoth the hedgehog, 'I fear lest thy deed belie thy speech and thou be even as the husbandman, who neglected to sow in season, saying, "I fear lest the days bring me not to my desire, and I shall only waste my substance by making haste to sow." When the time of harvest came and he saw the folk gathering in their crops, he repented him of what he had lost by his tardiness and died of chagrin and vexation.' 'What then shall I do,' asked the pigeon, 'that I may be freed from the bonds of the world and give myself up altogether to the service of my Lord?' 'Betake thee to preparing for the next world,' answered the hedgehog, 'and content thyself with a pittance of food.' 'How can I do this,' said the pigeon, 'I that am a bird and may not go beyond the palm-tree whereon is my food? Nor, could I do so, do I know another place, wherein I may abide.' Quoth the hedgehog, 'Thou canst shake down of the fruit of the palm what shall suffice thee and thy wife for a year's victual; then do ye take up your abode in a nest under the tree, that ye may seek to be guided in the right way, and do ye turn to what ye have shaken down and store it up against the time of need; and when the fruits are spent and the time is long upon you, address yourselves to abstinence from food.' 'May God requite thee with good,' exclaimed the pigeon, 'for the fair intent with which thou hast reminded me of the world to come and hast directed me into the right way!' Then he and his wife busied themselves in knocking down the dates, till nothing was left on the palm-tree, whilst the hedgehog, finding whereof to eat, rejoiced and filled his den with the dates, storing them up for his subsistence and saying in himself, 'When the pigeon and his wife have need of their provant, they will seek it of me, trusting in my devoutness and abstinence; and from what they have heard of my pious counsels and admonitions, they will draw near unto me. Then will I seize them and eat them, after which I shall have the place and all that drops from the palm-tree, to suffice me.' Presently the pigeon and his wife came down and finding that the hedgehog had carried off all the dates, said to him, 'O pious and devout-spoken hedgehog of good counsel, we can find no sign of the dates and know not on what else we shall feed.' 'Belike,' replied the hedgehog, 'the winds have carried them away; but the turning from the provision to the Provider is of the essence of prosperity, and He who cut the corners of the mouth will not leave it without victual.' And he gave not over preaching to them thus and making a show of piety and cozening them with fine words, till they put faith in him and entered his den, without suspicion, where-upon he sprang to the door and gnashed his tusks, and the pigeon, seeing his perfidy manifested, said to him, 'What has to-night to do with yester-night? Knowest thou not that there is a Helper for the oppressed? Beware of treachery and craft, lest there befall thee what befell the sharpers who plotted against the merchant.' 'What was that?' asked the hedgehog. 'I have heard tell,' answered the pigeon, 'that

The Merchant and the Two Sharpers.

There was once in a city called Sendeh a very wealthy merchant, who made ready merchandise and set out with it for such a city, thinking to sell it there. There followed him two sharpers, who had made up into bales what goods they could get and giving out to him that they also were merchants, companied with him by the way. At the first halting-place, they agreed to play him false and take his goods; but, at the same time, each purposed inwardly foul play to the other, saying in himself, "If I can cheat my comrade, it will be well for me and I shall have all to myself." So each took food and putting therein poison, brought it to his fellow; and they both ate of the poisoned mess and died. Now they had been sitting talking with the merchant; so when they left him and were long absent from him, he sought for them and found them both dead; whereby he knew that they were sharpers, who had plotted to play him foul, but their treachery had recoiled upon themselves; so the merchant was preserved and took what they had.'"

"O Shehrzad," said the Sultan, "verily thou hast aroused me to all whereof I was negligent! Continue to edify me with these fables." Quoth she, "It has come to my knowledge, O King, that

THE THIEF AND HIS MONKEY.

A certain man had a monkey and was a thief, who never entered one of the markets of the city in which he dwelt, but he made off with great purchase. One day, he saw a man offering for sale worn clothes, and he went calling them in the market, but none bid for them, and all to whom he showed them refused to buy of him. Presently, the thief saw him put the clothes in a wrapper and sit down to rest for weariness; so he made the ape sport before him, and whilst he was busy gazing at it, stole the parcel from him. Then he took the ape and made off to a lonely place, where he opened the wrapper and taking out the old clothes, wrapped them in a piece of costly stuff. This he carried to another market and exposed it for sale with what was therein, making it a condition that it should not be opened and tempting the folk with the lowness of the price he set on it. A certain man saw the wrapper and it pleased him; so he bought the parcel on these terms and carried it home, doubting not but he had gotten a prize. When his wife saw it, she said, 'What is this?' And he answered, 'It is precious stuff, that I have bought below its worth, meaning to sell it again and take the profit.' 'O dupe,' rejoined she, 'would this stuff be sold under its value, except it were stolen? Dost thou not know that he who buys a ware, without examining it, erreth? And indeed he is like unto the weaver.' 'What is the story of the weaver?' asked he; and she said, 'I have heard tell that

The Foolish Weaver.

There was once in a certain village a weaver who could not earn his living save by excessive toil. One day, it chanced that a rich man of the neighbourhood made a feast and bade the folk thereto. The weaver was present and saw such as were richly clad served with delicate meats and made much of by the master of the house, for what he saw of their gallant array. So he said in himself, "If I change this my craft for another, easier and better considered and paid, I shall amass store of wealth and buy rich clothes, that so I may rise in rank and be exalted in men's eyes and become like unto these." Presently, one of the mountebanks there climbed up to the top of a steep and lofty wall and threw himself down, alighting on his feet; which when the weaver saw, he said to himself, "Needs must I do as this fellow hath done, for surely I shall not fail of it." So he climbed up on to the wall and casting himself down to the ground, broke his neck and died forthright. I tell thee this (continued the woman) that thou mayst get thy living by that fashion thou knowest and throughly understandest, lest greed enter into thee and thou lust after what is not of thy competence.' Quoth he, 'Not every wise man is saved by his wisdom nor is every fool lost by his folly. I have seen a skilful charmer versed in the ways of serpents, bitten by a snake and killed, and I have known others prevail over serpents, who had no skill in them and no knowledge of their ways.' And he hearkened not to his wife, but went on buying stolen goods below their value, till he fell under suspicion and perished.

THE SPARROW AND THE PEACOCK.

There was once a sparrow, that used every day to visit a certain king of the birds and was the first to go in to him and the last to leave him. One day, a company of birds assembled on a high mountain, and one of them said to another, 'Verily, we are waxed many and many are the differences between us, and needs must we have a king to order our affairs, so shall we be at one and our differences will cease.' Thereupon up came the sparrow and counselled them to make the peacock,—that is, the prince he used to visit,—king over them. So they chose the peacock to their king and he bestowed largesse on them and made the sparrow his secretary and vizier. Now the sparrow was wont bytimes to leave his assiduity [in the personal service of the king] and look into affairs [in general]. One day, he came not at the usual time, whereat the peacock was sore troubled; but presently, he returned and the peacock said to him, 'What hath delayed thee, that art the nearest to me of all my servants and the dearest?' Quoth the sparrow, 'I have seen a thing that is doubtful to me and at which I am affrighted.' 'What was it thou sawest?' asked the king; and the sparrow answered, 'I saw a man set up a net, hard by my nest, and drive its pegs fast into the ground. Then he strewed grain in its midst and withdrew afar off. As I sat watching what he would do, behold, fate and destiny drove thither a crane and his wife, which fell into the midst of the net and began to cry out; whereupon the fowler came up and took them. This troubled me, and this is the reason of my absence from thee, O king of the age; but never again will I abide in that nest, for fear of the net.' 'Depart not thy dwelling,' rejoined the peacock; 'for precaution will avail thee nothing against destiny.' And the sparrow obeyed his commandment, saying, 'I will take patience and not depart, in obedience to the king.' So he continued to visit the king and carry him food and water, taking care for himself, till one day he saw two sparrows fighting on the ground and said in himself, 'How can I, who am the king's vizier, look on and see sparrows fighting in my neighbourhood? By Allah, I must make peace between them!' So he flew down to them, to reconcile them; but the fowler cast the net over them and taking the sparrow in question, gave him to his fellow, saying, 'Take care of him, for he is the fattest and finest I ever saw.' But the sparrow said in himself, 'I have fallen into that which I feared and it was none but the peacock that inspired me with a false security. It availed me nothing to beware of the stroke of fate, since for him who taketh precaution there is no fleeing from destiny; and how well says the poet:

That which is not to be shall by no means be brought To pass, and
     that which is to be shall come, unsought,
Even at the time ordained; but he that knoweth not The truth is
     still deceived and finds his hopes grown nought.'

STORY OF ALI BEN BEKKAR AND SHEMSENNEHAR.

There lived once [at Baghdad] in the days of the Khalif Haroun er Reshid a merchant named Aboulhusn Ali ben Tahir, who was great of goods and grace, handsome and pleasant-mannered, beloved of all. He used to enter the royal palace without asking leave, for all the Khalif's concubines and slave-girls loved him, and he was wont to company with Er Reshid and recite verses to him and tell him witty stories. Withal he sold and bought in the merchants' bazaar, and there used to sit in his shop a youth named Ali ben Bekkar, a descendant of the ancient kings of Persia, who was fair of face and elegant of shape, with rosy cheeks and joined eyebrows, sweet of speech and laughing-lipped, a lover of mirth and gaiety. It chanced one day, as they sat laughing and talking, there came up ten damsels like moons, every one of them accomplished in beauty and symmetry, and amongst them a young lady riding on a mule with housings of brocade and golden stirrups. She was swathed in a veil of fine stuff, with a girdle of gold-embroidered silk, and was even as says the poet:

She hath a skin like very silk and a soft speech and sweet;
     Gracious to all, her words are nor too many nor too few.
Two eyes she hath, quoth God Most High, "Be," and forthright they
     were; They work as wine upon the hearts of those whom they
     ensue.
Add to my passion, love of her, each night; and, solacement Of
     loves, the Resurrection be thy day of rendezvous!

The lady alighted at Aboulhusn's shop and sitting down there, saluted him, and he returned her salute. When Ali ben Bekkar saw her, she ravished his understanding and he rose to go away; but she said to him, 'Sit in thy place. We came to thee and thou goest away: this is not fair.' 'O my lady,' answered he, 'by Allah, I flee from what I see; for the tongue of the case saith:

She's the sun and her dwelling's in heaven on high; Look, then,
     to thine heart thou fair patience commend.
Thou mayst not climb up to her place in the sky, Nor may she to
     thee from her heaven descend.'

When she heard this, she smiled and said to Aboulhusn, 'What is the name of this young man?' 'He is a stranger,' answered he. 'What countryman is he?' asked she, and the merchant replied, 'He is a descendant of the (ancient) kings of Persia; his name is Ali ben Bekkar, and indeed it behoves us to use strangers with honour.' 'When my damsel comes to thee,' rejoined she, 'come thou at once to us and bring him with thee, that we may entertain him in our abode, lest he blame us and say, "There is no hospitality in the people of Baghdad:" for niggardliness is the worst fault that a man can have. Thou hearest what I say to thee and if thou disobey me, thou wilt incur my displeasure and I will never again visit thee or salute thee.' 'On my head and eyes,' answered Aboulhusn; 'God preserve me from thy displeasure, fair lady!' Then she rose and went away, leaving Ali ben Bekkar in a state of bewilderment. Presently, the damsel came and said to the merchant, 'O my lord Aboulhusn, my lady Shemsennehar, the favourite of the Commander of the Faithful Haroun er Reshid, bids thee to her, thee and thy friend, my lord Ali ben Bekkar.' So he rose and taking Ali with him, followed the girl to the Khalif's palace, where she carried them into a chamber and made them sit down. They talked together awhile, till she set trays of food before them, and they ate and washed their hands. Then she brought them wine, and they drank and made merry; after which she bade them rise and carried them into another chamber, vaulted upon four columns and adorned and furnished after the goodliest fashion with various kinds of furniture and decorations, as it were one of the pavilions of Paradise. They were amazed at the rarities they saw and as they were gazing at these marvels, up came ten damsels, like moons, with a proud and graceful gait, dazzling the sight and confounding the wit, and ranged themselves in two ranks, as they were of the houris of Paradise. After awhile, in came ten other damsels, with lutes and other instruments of mirth and music in their hands, who saluted the two guests and sitting down, fell to tuning their instruments. Then they rose and standing before them, played and sang and recited verses: and indeed each one of them was a seduction to the faithful. Whilst they were thus occupied, there entered other ten damsels like unto them, high-bosomed and of an equal age, with black eyes and rosy cheeks, joined eyebrows and languorous looks, a seduction to the faithful and a delight to all who looked upon them, clad in various kinds of coloured silks, with ornaments that amazed the wit. They took up their station at the door, and there succeeded them yet other ten damsels, fairer than they, clad in gorgeous apparel, such as defies description; and they also stationed themselves by the door. Then in came a band of twenty damsels and amongst them the lady Shemsennehar, as she were the moon among the stars, scarved with the luxuriance of her hair and dressed in a blue robe and a veil of silk, embroidered with gold and jewels. About her middle she wore a girdle set with various kinds of precious stones, and she advanced with a graceful and coquettish gait, till she came to the couch that stood at the upper end of the chamber and seated herself thereon. When Ali ben Bekkar saw her, he repeated the following couplets:

Yes, this is she indeed, the source of all my ill, For whom with
     long desire I languish at Love's will.
Near her, I feel my soul on fire and bones worn waste For
     yearning after her that doth my heart fulfih

Then said he to Aboulhusn, 'Thou hadst dealt more kindly with me to have forewarned me of these things; that I might have prepared my mind and taken patience to support what hath befallen me ;' and he wept and groaned and complained. 'O my brother,' replied Aboulhusn, 'I meant thee nought but good; but I feared to tell thee of this, lest such transport should overcome thee as might hinder thee from foregathering with her and intervene between thee and her: but take courage and be of good heart, for she is well disposed to thee and inclineth to favour thee.' 'What is the lady's name?' asked Ali ben Bekkar. 'She is called Shemsennehar,' answered Aboulhusn 'she is one of the favourites of the Commander of the Faithful Haroun er Reshid and this is the palace of the Khalifate.' Then Shemsennehar sat gazing upon Ali ben Bekkar's charms and he upon hers, till each was engrossed with love of the other. Presently, she commanded the damsels to sit; so they sat down, each in her place, on a couch before one of the windows, and she bade them sing; whereupon one of them took a lute and sang the following verses:

Twice be the message to my love made known, And take the answer
     from his lips alone.
To thee, O monarch of the fair, I come And stand, of this my case
     to make my moan.
O thou my sovereign, dear my heart and life, That in my inmost
     bosom hast thy throne,
Prithee, bestow a kiss upon thy slave; If not as gift, then even
     as a loan.
I will repay it, (mayst thou never fail!) Even as I took it, not
     a little gone.
Or, if thou wish for more than thou didst lend, Take and content
     thee; it is all thine own.
May health's fair garment ever gladden thee, Thee that o'er me
     the wede of woe hast thrown!

Her singing charmed Ali ben Bekkar, and he said to her, 'Sing me more of the like of these verses.' So she struck the strings and sang as follows:

By excess of estrangement, beloved mine, Thou hast taught long
     weeping unto my eyne.
O joy of my sight and its desire, O goal of my hopes, my
     worship's shrine,
Have pity on one, whose eyes are drowned In the sorrowful lover's
     tears of brine!

When she had finished, Shemsennehar said to another damsel, 'Sing us somewhat, thou.' So she played a lively measure and sang the following verses:

His looks 'twas made me drunken, in sooth, and not his wine; And
     the grace of his gait has banished sleep from these eyes of
     mine.
'Twas not the wine-cup dazed me, but e'en his glossy curls; His
     charms it was that raised me and not the juice o' the vine.
His winding browlocks have routed my patience, and my wit Is done
     away by the beauties his garments do enshrine.[FN#5]

When Shemsennehar heard this, she sighed heavily, and the song pleased her. Then she bade another damsel sing; so she took the lute and chanted the following:

A face that vies, indeed, with heaven's lamp, the sun; The
     welling of youth's springs upon him scarce begun.
His curling whiskers write letters wherein the sense Of love in
     the extreme is writ for every one.
Beauty proclaimed of him, whenas with him it met, "A stuff in
     God's best loom was fashioned forth and done!"

When she had finished, Ali Ben Bekkar. said to the damsel nearest him, 'Sing us somewhat, thou.' So she took the lute and sang these verses:

The time of union's all too slight For coquetry and prudish
     flight.
Not thus the noble are. How long This deadly distance and
     despite?
Ah, profit by the auspicious time, To sip the sweets of
     love-delight.

Ali ben Bekkar followed up her song with plentiful tears; and when Shemsennehar saw him weeping and groaning and lamenting, she burned with love-longing and desire and passion and transport consumed her. So she rose from the couch and came to the door of the alcove, where Ali met her and they embraced and fell down a-swoon in the doorway; whereupon the damsels came to them and carrying them into the alcove, sprinkled rose-water upon them. When they revived, they missed Aboulhusn, who had hidden himself behind a couch, and the young lady said, 'Where is Aboulhusn?' So he showed himself to her from beside the couch, and she saluted him, saying, 'I pray God to give me the means of requiting thee thy kindness!' Then she turned to Ali ben Bekkar and said to him, 'O my lord, passion has not reached this pass with thee, without doing the like with me; but there is nothing for it but to bear patiently what hath befallen us.' 'By Allah, O my lady,' rejoined he, 'converse with thee may not content me nor gazing upon thee assuage the fire of my heart, nor will the love of thee, that hath mastered my soul, leave me, but with the passing away of my life.' So saying, he wept and the tears ran down upon his cheeks, like unstrung pearls. When Shemsennehar saw him weep, she wept for his weeping; and Aboulhusn exclaimed, 'By Allah, I wonder at your plight and am confounded at your behaviour; of a truth, your affair is amazing and your case marvellous. If ye weep thus, what while ye are yet together, how will it be when ye are parted? Indeed, this is no time for weeping and wailing, but for foregathering and gladness; rejoice, therefore, and make merry and weep no more.' Then Shemsennehar signed to a damsel, who went out and returned with handmaids bearing a table, whereon were silver dishes, full of all manner rich meats. They set the table before them, and Shemsennehar began to eat and to feed Ali ben Bekkar, till they were satisfied, when the table was removed and they washed their hands. Presently the waiting-women brought censors and casting bottles and sprinkled them with rose-water and incensed them with aloes and ambergris and other perfumes; after which they set on dishes of graven gold, containing all manner of sherbets, besides fruits and confections, all that the heart can desire or the eye delight in, and one brought a flagon of carnelian, full of wine. Then Shemsennehar chose out ten handmaids and ten singing-women to attend on them and dismissing the rest to their apartments, bade some of those who remained smite the lute. They did as she bade them and one of them sang the following verses:

My soul be a ransom for him who returned my salute with a smile
     And revived in my breast the longing for union after
     despair!
The hands of passion have brought my secret thoughts to the light
     And that which is in my bosom unto my censors laid bare.
The very tears of my eyes press betwixt me and him, As though
     they, even as I, enamoured of him were.

When she had finished, Shemsennehar rose and filling a. cup, drank it off, then filled it again and gave it to Ali ben Bekkar; after which she bade another damsel sing; and she sang the following verses:

My tears, as they flow, are alike to my wine, as I brim it up!
     For my eyes pour forth of their lids the like of what froths
     in my cup.[FN#6]
By Allah, I know not, for sure, whether my eyelids it is Run over
     with wine or else of my tears it is that I sup!

Then Ali ben Bekkar drank off his cup and returned it to Shemsennehar. She filled it again and gave it to Aboulhusn, who drank it off. Then she took the lute, saying, 'None shall sing over my cup but myself.' So she tuned the strings and sang these verses:

The hurrying tears upon his cheeks course down from either eye'
     For very passion, and love's fires within his heart flame
     high.
He weeps whilst near to those he loves, for fear lest they
     depart: So, whether near or far they be, his tears are never
     dry.

And again:

Our lives for thee, O cupbearer, O thou whom beauty's self From
     the bright parting of thy hair doth to the feet army!
The full moon[FN#7] from thy collar-folds rises, the
     Pleiades[FN#8] Shine from thy mouth and in thine hands there
     beams the sun of day.[FN#9]
I trow, the goblets wherewithal thou mak'st us drunk are those
     Thou pourest to us from thine eyes, that lead the wit
     astray.
Is it no wonder that thou art a moon for ever full And that thy
     lovers 'tis, not thou, that wane and waste away?
Art thou a god, that thou, indeed, by favouring whom thou wilt
     And slighting others, canst at once bring back to life and
     slay?
GCod moulded beauty from thy form and eke perfumed the breeze With
     the sheer sweetness of the scent that cleaves to thee alway.
None of the people of this world, an angel sure thou art, Whom
     thy Creator hath sent down, to hearten our dismay.

When Ali and Aboulhusn and the bystanders heard Shemsennehar's song, they were transported and laughed and sported; but while they were thus engaged, up came a damsel, trembling for fear, and said, 'O my lady, Afif and Mesrour and Merjan and others of the Commander of the Faithful's eunuchs, whom I know not, are at the door.' When they heard this they were like to die of fright, but Shemsennehar laughed and said, 'Have no fear.' Then said she to the damsel, 'Hold them in parley, whilst we remove hence.' And she caused shut the doors of the alcove upon Ali and Aboulhusn and drew the curtains over them; after which she shut the door of the saloon and went out by the privy gate into the garden, where she seated herself on a couch she had there and bade one of the damsels rub her feet. Then she dismissed the rest of her women and bade the portress admit those who were at the door; whereupon Mesrour entered, he and his company, twenty men with drawn swords, and saluted her. Quoth she, 'Wherefore come-ye?' And they answered, 'The Commander of the Faithful salutes thee. He wearies for thy sight and would have thee to know that this with him is a day of great joy and gladness and he is minded to seal his gladness with thy present company: wilt thou then go to him or shall he come to thee?' At this she rose, and kissing the earth, said, 'I hear and obey the commandment of the Commander of the Faithful.' Then she summoned the chief (female) officers of her household and other damsels and made a show of complying with the Khalif's orders and commanding them to make preparations for his reception, albeit all was in readiness; and she said to the eunuchs, 'Go to the Commander of the Faithful and tell him that I await him after a little space, that I may make ready for him a place with carpets and so forth.' So they returned in haste to the Khalif, whilst Shemsennehar, doffing her (outer) clothing, repaired to her beloved Ali ben Bekkar and strained him to her bosom and bade him farewell, whereat he wept sore and said, 'O my lady, this leave-taking will lead to the ruin of my soul and the loss of my life; but I pray God to grant me patience to bear this my love, wherewith He hath smitten me!' 'By Allah, answered she, 'none will suffer perdition but I; for thou wilt go out to the market and company with those that will divert thee, and thine honour will be in safety and thy passion concealed; whilst I shall fall into trouble and weariness nor find any to console me, more by token that I have given the Khalif a rendezvous, wherein haply great peril shall betide me, by reason of my love and longing passion for thee and my grief at being parted from thee. For with what voice shall I sing and with what heart shall I present me before the Khalif and with what speech shall I entertain the Commander of the Faithful and with what eyes shall I look upon a place where thou art not and take part in a banquet at which thou art not present and with what taste shall I drink wine of which thou partakest not?' 'Be not troubled,' said Aboulhusn 'but take patience and be not remiss in entertaining the Commander of the Faithful this night, neither show him any neglect, but be of good courage.' At this juncture, up came a damsel, who said to Shemsennehar, 'O my lady, the Khalif's pages are come.' So she rose to her feet and said to the maid, 'Take Aboulhusn and his friend and carry them to the upper gallery giving upon the garden and there leave them, till it be dark; when do thou make shift to carry them forth.' Accordingly, the girl carried them up to the gallery and locking the door upon them, went away. As they sat looking on the garden, the Khalif appeared, preceded by near a hundred eunuchs with drawn swords and compassed about with a score of damsels, as they were moons, holding each a lighted flambeau. They were clad in the richest of raiment and on each one's head was a crown set with diamonds and rubies. The Khalif walked in their midst with a majestic gait, whilst Mesrour and Afif and Wesif went before him and Shemsennehar and all her damsels rose to receive him and meeting him at the garden door, kissed the earth before him; nor did they cease to go before him, till they brought him to the couch, whereon he sat down, whilst all the waiting-women and eunuchs stood before him and there came fair maids and slave-girls with lighted flambeaux and perfumes and essences and instruments of music. Then he bade the singers sit down, each in her room, and Shemsennehar came up and seating herself on a stool by the Khalif's side, began to converse with him, whilst Ali and the jeweller looked on and listened, unseen of the prince. The Khalif fell to jesting and toying with Shemsennehar and bade throw open the (garden) pavilion. So they opened the doors and windows and lighted the flambeaux till the place shone in the season of darkness even as the day. The eunuchs removed thither the wine-service and (quoth Aboulhusn), 'I saw drinking-vessels and rarities, whose like mine eyes never beheld, vases of gold and silver and all manner precious stones and jewels, such as beggar description, till indeed meseemed I was dreaming, for excess of amazement at what I saw!' But as for Ali ben Bekkar, from the moment Shemsennehar left him, he lay prostrate on the ground for excess of passion and desire and when he revived, he fell to gazing upon these things that had not their like, and saying to Aboulhusn, 'O my brother, I fear lest the Khalif see us or come to know of us; but the most of my fear is for thee. For myself, I know that I am surely lost past recourse, and the cause of my destruction is nought but excess of passion and love-longing and desire and separation from my beloved, after union with her; but I beseech God to deliver us from this predicament.' Then they continued to look on, till the banquet was spread before the Khalif, when he turned to one of the damsels and said to her, 'O Gheram, let us hear some of thine enchanting songs.' So she tool: the lute and tuning it, sang as follows:

The longing of a Bedouin maid, whose folk are far away, Who
     yearns after the willow of the Hejaz and the bay,—
Whose tears, when she on travellers lights, might for their water
     serve And eke her passion, with its heat, their bivouac-fire
     purvey,—
Is not more fierce nor ardent than my longing for my love, Who
     deem: that I commit a crime in loving him alway.

When Shemsennehar heard this, she slipped off the stool on which she sat and fell to the earth insensible; where upon the damsels came and lifted her up. When Ali ben Bekkar saw this from the gallery, he also fell down senseless, and Aboulhusn said, 'Verily Fate hath apportioned passion equally between you!' As he spoke, in came the damsel who had brought them thither and said to him, 'O Aboulhusn, arise and come down, thou and thy friend, for of a truth the world is grown strait upon us and I fear lest our case be discovered or the Khalif become aware of you: so, except you descend at once, we are dead folk. 'How shall this youth descend,' replied he, 'seeing that he hath not strength to rise?' With this she fell to sprinkling rose-water on Ali ben Bekkar, till he came to himself, when Aboulhusn lifted him up and the damsel stayed him. So they went down from the gallery and walked on awhile, till they came to a little iron door, which the damsel opened, and they found themselves on the Tigris' bank. Here they sat down on a stone bench, whilst the girl clapped her hands and there came up a man with a little boat, to whom said she, 'Carry these two young men to the other bank.' So they all three entered the boat and the man put off with them; and as they launched out into the stream, Ali ben Bekkar looked back towards the Khalif's palace and the pavilion and the garden and bade them farewell with these verses:

I stretch forth a feeble hand to bid farewell to thee, With the
     other upon my burning breast, beneath the heart of me.
But be not this the last of the love betwixt us twain And let not
     this the last of my soul's refreshment be.

The damsel said to the boatman, 'Make haste with them.' So he plied his oars swiftly till they reached the opposite bank, where they landed, and she took lease of them, saying, 'It were my wish not to leave you, but I can go no farther than this.' Then she turned back, whilst Ali ben Bekkar lay on the ground before Aboulhusn and could not rise, till the latter said to him, 'This place is not sure and I am in fear of our lives, by reason of the thieves and highwaymen and men of lawlessness.' With this Ali arose and essayed to walk a little, but could not. Now Aboulhusn had friends in that quarter, so he made for the house of one of them, in whom he trusted and who was of his intimates, and knocked at the door. The man came out quickly and seeing them, bade them welcome and brought them into his house, where he made them sit down and talked with them and asked them whence they came. Quoth Aboulhusn 'We came out but now, being moved thereto by a man with whom I had dealings and who hath in his hands monies of mine. It was told me that he was minded to flee into foreign countries with my money; so I came out to-night in quest of him, taking with me this my friend Ali ben Bekkar for company but he hid from us and we could get no speech of him So we turned back, empty-handed, and knew not whither to go, for it were irksome to us to return home at this hour of the night; wherefore we came to thee, knowing thy wonted courtesy and kindness.' 'Ye are right welcome,' answered the host, and studied to do them honour. They abode with him the rest of the night, and as soon as it was day, they left him and made their way back to the city. When they came to Aboulhusn's house, the latter conjured his friend to enter; so they went in and lying down on the bed, slept awhile. When they awoke, Aboulhusn bade his servants spread the house with rich carpets saying in himself, 'Needs must I divert this youth and distract him from thoughts of his affliction, for I know his case better than another.' Then he called for water for Ali ben Bekkar, and the latter rose and making his ablutions, prayed the obligatory prayers that he had omitted for the past day and night; after which he sat down and began to solace himself with talk with his friend. When Aboulhusn saw this, he turned to him and said, 'O my lord, it were better for thy case that thou abide with me this night, so thy heart may be lightened and the anguish of love-longing that is upon thee be dispelled and thou make merry with us and haply the fire of thy heart be allayed.' 'O my brother,' answered Ali, 'do what seemeth good to thee; for I may not anywise escape from what hath befallen me.' Accordingly, Aboulhusn arose and bade his servants summon some of the choicest of his friends and sent for singers and musicians. Meanwhile he made ready meat and drink for them, and they came and sat eating and drinking and making merry till nightfall Then they lit the candles, and the cups of friendship and good fellowship went round amongst them, and the time passed pleasantly with them. Presently, a singing-woman took the lute and sang the following verses:

Fate launched at me a dart, the arrow of an eye; It pierced me
     and cut off from those I love am I.
Fortune hath mauled me sore and patience fails me now; But long
     have I forebode misfortune drawing nigh.

When Ali ben Bekkar heard this, he fell to the earth in a swoon and abode thus till daybreak, and Aboulhusn despaired of him. But, with the dawning, he came to himself and sought to go home; nor could Aboulhusn deny him, for fear of the issue of his affair. So he made his servants bring a mule and mounting Ali thereon, carried him to his lodging, he and one of his men. When he was safe at home, the merchant thanked God for his deliverance from that peril and sat awhile with him, comforting him; but Ali could not contain himself, for the violence of his passion and love-longing. Presently Aboulhusn rose to take leave of him and Ali said, 'O my brother, leave me not without news.' 'I hear and obey, answered Aboulhusn, and repairing to his shop, opened it and sat there all day, expecting news of Shemsennehar; but none came. He passed the night in his own house and when it was day, he went to Ali ben Bekkar's lodging and found him laid on his bed, with his friends about him and physicians feeling his pulse and prescribing this or that. When he saw Aboulhusn, he smiled, and the latter saluting him, enquired how he did and sat with him till the folk withdrew, when he said to him, 'What plight is this?' Quoth Ali, 'It was noised abroad that I was ill and I have no strength to rise and walk, so as to give the lie to the report of my sickness, but continue lying here as thou seest. So my friends heard of me and came to visit me. But, O my brother, hast thou seen the damsel or heard any news of her?' 'I have not seen her,' answered Aboulhusn, 'since we parted from her on the Tigris' bank; but, O my brother, beware of scandal and leave this weeping.' 'O my brother,' rejoined Ali, 'indeed, I have no control over myself ;' and he sighed and recited the following verses:

She giveth unto her hand that whereof mine doth fail, A dye on
     the wrist, wherewith she doth my patience assail
She standeth in fear for her hand of the arrows she shoots from
     her eyes; So, for protection, she's fain to clothe it in
     armour of mail.[FN#10]
The doctor in ignorance felt my pulse, and I said to him, "Leave
     thou my hand alone; my heart it is that doth ail."
Quoth she to the dream of the night, that visited me and fled,
     "By Allah, describe him to me and bate me no jot of the
     tale!"
It answered, "I put him away, though he perish of thirst, and
     said, 'Stand off from the watering-place!' So he could not
     to drink avail."
She poured forth the pearls of her tears from her eyes' narcissus
     and gave The rose of her cheeks to drink and bit upon
     jujubes[FN#11] with hail.[FN#12]

Then he said, 'O Aboulhusn, I am smitten with an affliction, from which I deemed myself in surety, and there is no greater ease for me than death.' 'Be patient,' answered his friend: 'peradventure God will heal thee.' Then he went out from him and repairing to his shop, opened it, nor had he sat long, when up came Shemsennehar's hand-maid, who saluted him. He returned her salute and looking at her, saw that her heart was palpitating and that she was troubled and bore the traces of affliction: so he said to her, 'Thou art welcome. How is it with Shemsennehar?' 'I will tell thee,' answered she; 'but first tell me how doth Ali ben Bekkar.' So he told her all that had passed, whereat she was grieved and sighed and lamented and marvelled at his case. Then said she, 'My lady's case is still stranger than this; for when you went away, I turned back, troubled at heart for you and hardly crediting your escape, and found her lying prostrate in the pavilion, speaking not nor answering any, whilst the Commander of the Faithful sat by her head, unknowing what aided her and finding none who could give him news of her. She ceased not from her swoon till midnight, when she revived and the Khalif said to her, "What ails thee, O Shemsennehar, and what has behllen thee this night?" "May God make me thy ransom, O Commander of the Faithful!" answered she. "Verily, bile rose in me and lighted a fire in my body, so that I lost my senses for excess of pain, and I know no more." "What hast thou eaten to-day?" asked the Khalif. Quoth she, "I broke my fast on something I had never before eaten." Then she feigned to be recovered and calling for wine, drank it and begged the Khalif to resume his diversion. So he sat down again on his couch in the pavilion and made her sit as before. When she saw me, she asked me how you fared; so I told her what I had done with you and repeated to her the verses that Ali ben BeLkar had recited at parting, whereat she wept secretly, but presently stinted. After awhile, the Khalif ordered a damsel to sing, and she chanted the following verses:

Life, as I live, has not been sweet since I did part from thee;
     Would God I knew but how it fared with thee too after me!
If thou be weeping tears of brine for sev'rance of our loves, Ah,
     then, indeed, 'twere meet my tears of very blood should be.

When my lady heard this, she fell back on the sofa in a swoon, and I seized her hand and sprinkled rose-water on her face, till she revived, when I said to her, "O my lady, do not bring ruin on thyself and on all thy house-hold, but be patient, by the life of thy beloved!" "Can aught befall me worse than death?" answered she. "That, indeed, I long for, for, by Allah, my ease is therein." Whilst we were talking, another damsel sang the following words of the poet:

"Patience shall peradventure lead to solacement," quoth they; and
     I, "Where's patience to be had, now he is gone away?"
He made a binding covenant with me to cut the cords Of patience,
     when we two embraced upon the parting day.

When Shemsennehar heard this, she swooned away once more, which when the Khalif saw, he came to her in haste and commanded the wine-service to be removed and each damsel to return to her chamber. He abode with her the rest of the night, and when it was day, he sent for physicians and men of art and bade them medicine her, knowing not that her sickness arose from passion and love-longing. He tarried with her till he deemed her in a way of recovery, when he returned to his palace, sore concerned for her illness, and she bade me go to thee and bring her news of Ali ben Bekkar. So I came, leaving with her a number of her bodywomen; and this is what has delayed me from thee.' When Aboulhusn heard her story, he marvelled and said, 'By Allah, I have acquainted thee with his whole case; so now return to thy mistress; salute her for me and exhort her to patience and secrecy and tell her that I know it to be a hard matter and one that calls for prudent ordering.' She thanked him and taking leave of him, returned to her mistress, whilst he abode in his place till the end of the day, when he shut the shop and betaking himself to Ali ben Bekkar's house, knocked at the door. One of the servants came out and admitted him; and when Ali saw him, he smiled and re-joiced in his coming, saying, 'O Aboulhusn, thou hast made a weary man of me by thine absence from me this day; for indeed my soul is pledged to thee for the rest of my days.' 'Leave this talk,' answered the other. 'Were thy healing at the price of my hand, I would cut it off, ere thou couldst ask me; and could I ransom thee with my life, I had already laid it down for thee. This very day, Shemsennehar's handmaid has been with me and told me that what hindered her from coming before this was the Khalif's sojourn with her mistress;' and he went on to repeat to him all that the girl had told him of Shemsennehar; at which Ali lamented sore and wept and said to him, 'O my brother, I conjure thee by God to help me in this mine affliction and teach me how I shall do! Moreover, I beg thee of thy grace to abide with me this night, that I may have the solace of thy company.' Aboulhusn agreed to this; so they talked together till the night darkened, when Ali groaned aloud and lamented and wept copious tears, reciting the following verses:

My eye holds thine image ever; thy name in my mouth is aye And
     still in my heart is thy sojourn; so how canst thou absent
     be?
How sore is my lamentation for life that passes away Nor is
     there, alas! in union a part for thee and me!

And also these:

She cleft with the sword of her glance the helm of my courage in
     two And the mail of my patience she pierced with the spear
     of her shape through and through.
She unveiled to us, under the musk of the mole that is set on her
     cheek, carnphor-whlte dawning a-break through a night of the
     ambergris' hue.[FN#13]
Her spirit was stirred to chagrin and she bit on cornelian[FN#14]
     with pearls,[FN#15] Whose unions unvalued abide in a lakelet
     of sugary dew.
She sighed for impatience and smote with her palm on the snows of
     her breast. Her hand left a scar; so I saw what never before
     met my view;
Pens fashioned of coral (her nails), that, dinting the book of
     her breast Five lines, scored in ambergris ink, on a table
     of crystal drew,
O ye that go girded with steel, O swordsmen, I rede you beware Of
     the stroke of her death-dealing eyes, that never looked yet
     but they slew!
And guard yourselves, ye of the spears, and fence off her thrust
     from your hearts, If she tilt with the quivering lance of
     her shape straight and slender at you.

Then he gave a great cry and fell down in a swoon. Aboulhusn thought that his soul had departed his body and he ceased not from his swoon till daybreak, when he came to himself and talked with his friend, who sat with him till the forenoon. Then he left him and repaired to his shop. Hardly had he opened it, when the damsel came and stood before him. As soon as he saw her, she made a sign of salutation to him, which he returned; and she greeted him for her mistress, saying, 'How doth Ali ben BeLkar?' 'O good damsel,' replied he, 'ask me not how he doth nor what he suffers for excess of passion; for he sleeps not by night neither rests by day; wakefulness wasteth him and affliction hath gotten the mastery of him and his case is distressful to his friend.' Quoth she, 'My lady salutes thee and him, and indeed she is in worse case than he. She hath written him a letter and here it is. When she gave it me, she said to me, "Do not return save with the answer." So wilt thou go with me to him and get his reply?' 'I hear and obey,' answered Aboulhusn, and shutting his shop, carried her, by a different way to that by which he came, to Ali ben Bekkar's house, where he left her standing at the door and entered. When Ali saw him, he rejoiced, and Aboulhusn said to him, 'The reason of my coming is that such an one hath sent his handmaid to thee with a letter, containing his greeting to thee and excusing himself for that he hath tarried by reason of a certain matter that hath betided him. The girl stands even now at the door: shall she have leave to enter?' And he signed to him that it was Shemsennehar's slave-girl. Ali understood his sign and answered, 'Bring her in.' So she entered and when he saw her, he shook for joy and signed to her, as who should say, 'How doth thy lord, may God grant him health and recovery!' 'He is well,' answered she and pulling out the letter, gave it to him. He took it and kissing it, opened and read it; after which he handed it to Aboulhusn, who found written therein what follows:

The messenger of me will give thee news aright; So let his true
     report suffice thee for my sight.
A lover hast thou left, for love of thee distraught; Her eyes
     cease never-more from watching, day or night.
I brace myself to bear affliction, for to foil The buffets of
     ill-fate is given to no wight.
But be thou of good cheer; for never shall my heart Forget thee
     nor thy thought be absent from my spright.
Look on thy wasted frame and what is fallen thereon And thence
     infer of me and argue of my plight.

To proceed: I have written thee a letter without fingers and speak to thee without tongue; to tell thee my whole state, I have an eye from which sleeplessness is never absent and a heart whence sorrowful thought stirs not. It is with me as I had never known health nor let sadness, neither beheld a fair face nor spent an hour of pleasant life; but it is as I were made up of love-longing and of the pain of passion and chagrin. Sickness is unceasing upon me and my yearning redoubles ever; desire increases still and longing rages in my heart. I pray God to hasten our union and dispel the trouble of my mind: and I would fain have thee write me some words, that I may solace myself withal. Moreover, I would have thee put on a becoming patience, till God give relief; and peace be on thee.' When Ali ben Bekkar had read this letter, he said, 'With what hand shall I write and with what tongue shall I make moan and lament? Indeed she addeth sickness to my sickness and draweth death upon my death!' Then he sat up and taking inkhorn and paper, wrote the following reply: 'In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful. O my lady, thy letter hath reached me and hath given ease to a mind worn out with passion and desire and brought healing to a wounded heart, cankered with languishment and sickness; for indeed I am become even as saith the poet:

Bosom contracted and grievous thought dilated, Eyes ever wakeful
     and body wearied aye;
Patience cut off and separation ever present, Reason disordered
     and heart all stolen away.

Know that complaining quenches not the fire of calamity; but it eases him whom love-longing consumes and separation destroys; and so I comfort myself with the mention of the word "union;" for how well saith the poet:

If love had not pain and pleasure, satisfaction and despite, Where of messengers and letters were for lovers the delight?'

When he had made an end of this letter, he gave it to Aboulhusn, saying, 'Read it and give it to the damsel.' So he took it and read it and its words stirred his soul and its meaning wounded his vitals. Then he gave it to the girl, and Ali said to her, 'Salute thy lady for me and tell her of my passion and longing and how love is blent with my flesh and my bones; and say to her that I need one who shall deliver me from the sea of destruction and save me from this dilemma; for of a truth fortune oppresseth me with its vicissitudes; and is there any helper to free me from its defilements?' So saying, he wept and the damsel wept for his weeping. Then she took leave of him and Aboulhusn went out with her and bade her farewell. So she went her way and he returned to his shop, which he opened, and sat down there, according to his wont; but as he sat, he found his bosom straitened and his heart oppressed and was troubled about his case. He ceased not from melancholy thought the rest of that day and night, and on the morrow he betook himself to Ali ben Bekkar, with whom he sat till the folk withdrew, when he asked him how he did. Ali began to complain of passion and descant upon the longing and distraction that possessed him, ending by repeating the following words of the poet:

Folk have made moan of passion before me of past years, And live
     and dead for absence have suffered pains and fears;
But what within my bosom I harbour, with mine eyes I've never
     seen the like of nor heard it with mine ears.

And also these:

I've suffered for thy love what Caïs, that madman[FN#16] hight,
     Did never undergo for love of Leila bright.
Yet chase I not the beasts o' the desert, as did he; For madness
     hath its kinds for this and th' other wight.

Quoth Aboulhusn, 'Never did I see or hear of one like unto thee in thy love! If thou sufferest all this transport and sickness and trouble, being enamoured of one who returns thy passion, how would it be with thee, if she whom thou lovest were contrary and perfidious? Meseems, thy case will be discovered, if thou abide thus.' His words pleased Ali ben Bekkar and he trusted in him and thanked him.

Now Aboulhusn had a friend, to whom he had discovered his affair and that of Ali ben Bekkar and who knew that they were close friends; but none other than he was acquainted with what was betwixt them. He was wont to come to him and enquire how Ali did and after a little, he began to ask about the damsel; but Aboulhusn put him off, saying, 'She invited him to her and there was between him and her what passeth words, and this is the end of their affair; but I have devised me a plan which I would fain submit to thy judgment.' 'And what is that?' asked his friend. 'O my brother,' answered Aboulhusn, 'I am a man well known, having much dealing among the notables, both men and women, and I fear lest the affair of these twain get wind and this lead to my death and the seizure of my goods and the ruin of my repute and that of my family. Wherefore I purpose to get together my property and make ready forthright and repair to the city of Bassora and abide there, till I see what comes of their affair, that none may know of me, for passion hath mastered them and letters pass between them. Their go-between and confidant at this present is a slave-girl, who hath till now kept their counsel, but I fear lest haply she be vexed with them or anxiety get the better of her and she discover their case to some one and the matter be noised abroad and prove the cause of my ruin; for I have no excuse before God or man.' 'Thou acquaintest me with a perilous matter,' rejoined his friend, 'and one from the like of which the wise and understanding will shrink in affright. May God preserve thee and avert from thee the evil thou dreadest! Assuredly, thy resolve is a wise one.' So Aboulhusn returned home and betook himself to setting his affairs in order and preparing for his journey; nor had three days elapsed ere he made an end of his business and departed for Bassora. Three days after, his friend came to visit him, but finding him not, asked the neighbours of him; and they answered, 'He set out three days ago for Bassora, for he had dealings with merchants there and is gone thither to collect his debts; but he will soon return.' The man was confounded at the news and knew not whither to go; and he said in himself, 'Would I had not parted with Aboulhusn!' Then he bethought him how he should gain access to Ali ben Bekkar and repairing to the latter's lodging, said to one of his servants, 'Ask leave for me of thy master that I may go in and salute him.' So the servant went in and told his master and presently returning, invited the man to enter. So he went in and found Ali ben Bekkar lying back on the pillow and saluted him. Ali returned his greeting and bade him welcome; whereupon the other began to excuse himself for having held aloof from him all this while and added, 'O my lord, there was a close friendship between Aboulhusn and myself, so that I used to trust him with my secrets and could not brook to be severed from him an hour. It chanced but now that I was absent three days' space on certain business with a company of my friends, and when I came back, I found his shop shut; so I asked the neighbours of him and they replied, "He is gone to Bassora." Now I know he had no surer friend than thou; so I conjure thee, by Allah, to tell me what thou knowest of him.' When Ali heard this, his colour changed and he was troubled and answered, 'I never heard of his departure till this day, and if it be as thou sayest, weariness is come upon me.' And he repeated the following verses:

Whilom I wept for what was past of joy and pleasant cheer, Whilst
     yet the objects of my love were unremoved and near;
But now my sad and sorry fate hath sundered me and them And I
     to-day must weep for those that were to me most dear.

Then he bent his head awhile in thought and presently raising it, said to one of his servants, 'Go to Aboulhusn'' house and enquire whether he be at home or gone on a journey. If they say, "He is abroad;" ask whither.' The servant went out and presently returning, said to his master, 'When I asked after Aboulhusn, his people told me that he was gone on a journey to Bassora; but I saw a damsel standing at the door, who knew me, though I knew her not, and said to me, "Art thou not servant to Ali ben Bekkar?" "Yes," answered I. And she said, "I have a message for him from one who is the dearest of all folk to him." So she came with me and is now at the door.' Quoth Ali, 'Bring her in.' So the servant went out and brought her in, and the man who was with Ali ben Bekkar looked at her and found her comely. She came up to Ali and saluting him, talked with him privily; and he from time to time exclaimed with an oath and swore that he had not done as she avouched. Then she took leave of him and went away. When she was gone, Aboulhusn's friend, who was a jeweller, took occasion to speak and said to Ali ben Bekkar, 'Doubtless, the women of the palace have some claim upon thee or thou hast dealings with the Khalif's household?' 'Who told thee of this?' asked Ali. 'I know it by yonder damsel,' replied the jeweller, 'who is Shemsennehar's slave-girl; for she came to me awhile since with a written order for a necklace of jewels; and I sent her a costly one.' When Ali heard this, he was greatly troubled, so that the jeweller feared for his life, but after awhile he recovered himself and said, 'O my brother, I conjure thee by Allah to tell me truly how thou knowest her.' 'Do not press me as to this,' replied the other; and Ali said, 'Indeed, I will not desist from thee till thou tell me the truth.' 'Then,' said the jeweller, 'I will tell thee all, that thou mayst not distrust me nor be alarmed at what I said, nor will I conceal aught from thee, but will discover to thee the truth of the matter, on condition that thou possess me with the true state of thy case and the cause of thy sickness.' Then he told him all that had passed between Aboulhusn and himself, adding that he had acted thus only out of friendship for him and of his desire to serve him and assuring him that he would keep his secret and venture life and goods in his service. So Ali in turn told him his story and added, 'By Allah, O my brother, nought moved me to keep my case secret from thee and others but my fear lest the folk should lift the veils of protection from certain persons.' 'And I,' rejoined the jeweller, 'desired not to foregather with thee but of the great affection I bear thee and my zeal for thee in every case and my compassion for the anguish thy heart endureth for severance. Haply, I may be a comforter to thee in the room of my friend Aboulhusn, during his absence. So take heart and be of good cheer.' Ali thanked him and repeated the following verses:

If, 'I am patient,' I say, since forth from me he went, My tears
     give me the lie and the stress of my lament.
And how shall I hide the tears, that flow in streams adown The
     table of my cheek for his evanishment?

Then he was silent awhile, and presently said to the jeweller, 'Knowest thou what the girl whispered to me?' 'Not I, by Allah, O my lord,' answered he. Quoth Ali, 'She would have it that I had counselled Aboulhusn to go to Bassora and that I had used this device to put a stop to our correspondence and intercourse. I swore to her that this was not so: but she would not credit me and went away to her mistress, persisting in her injurious suspicions; and indeed I know not what I shall do without Aboulhusn, for she inclined to him and gave ear to his word.' 'O my brother,' answered the jeweller, 'I guessed as much from her manner; but, if it please God the Most High, I will help thee to thy desire.' 'Who can help me,' rejoined Ali, 'and how wilt thou do with her, when she takes umbrage like a wilding of the desert?' 'By Allah,' exclaimed the jeweller, 'needs must I do my utmost endeavour to help thee and contrive to make her acquaintance, without exposure or mischief!' Then he asked leave to depart, and Ali said, 'O my brother, see thou keep my counsel' And he looked at him and wept. The jeweller bade him farewell and went away, knowing not what he should do to further his wishes; but as he went along pondering the matter, he spied a letter lying in the road, and taking it up, found that it bore the following superscription, 'From the least worthy of lovers to the most excellent of beloved ones.' He opened it and found these words written therein:

'The messenger brought me a promise of union and delight; But yet
     that he had mistaken 'twas constant in my spright.
Wherefore I joyed not: but sorrow was added unto me, For that I
     knew my envoy had read thee not aright.

To proceed: Know, O my lord, that I am ignorant of the cause of the breaking off of the correspondence between thee and me: but if it arise from cruelty on thy part, I will meet it with fidelity, and if love have departed from thee, I will remain constant to my love in absence for I am with thee even as says the poet:

Be haughty and I will be patient; capricious, I'll bear; turn away, I'll draw near thee; be harsh, I'll be abject; command, I'll give ear and obey.

As he was reading, up came the slave-girl, looking right and left, and seeing the letter in the jeweller's hand, said to him, 'O my lord, this letter is one I let fall.' He made her no answer, but walked on, and she followed him, till he came to his house, when he entered and she after him, saying, 'O my lord, give me back the letter, for it fell from me.' He turned to her and said, 'O good slave-girl, fear not, neither grieve, for verily God the Protector loves to protect [His creatures]; but tell me the truth of thy case, for I am one who keepeth counsel. I conjure thee by an oath to hide from me nothing of thy lady's affair; for haply God shall help me to further her wishes and make easy what is hard by my hand' 'O my lord,' answered she, 'indeed a secret is not lost whereof thou art the keeper; nor shall any affair come to nought for which thou strivest. Know that my heart inclines to thee, and do thou give me the letter.' Then she told him the whole story, adding, 'God is witness to what I say.' 'Thou hast spoken truly,' said the jeweller, 'for I am acquainted with the root of the matter.' Then he told her how he had come by Ali ben Bekkar's secret and related to her all that had passed, whereat she rejoiced; and they agreed that she should carry the letter to Ali and return and tell the jeweller all that passed. Accordingly he gave her the letter and she took it and sealed it up as it was before, saying, 'My mistress Shemsennehar gave it to me sealed; and when he hath read it and given me the reply, I will bring it to thee.' Then she repaired to Ali ben Bekkar, whom she found waiting, and gave him the letter. He read it and writing an answer, gave it to the damsel. She carried it to the jeweller, who broke the seal and read what was written therein, as follows:

'Neglected are our messages, for lo, our go-between, That wont to
     keep our counsel erst, is wroth with us, I ween.
So choose us out a messenger, a true and trusty wight, Yea, one
     of whom fidelity, not falsehood, is well seen.

To proceed: Verily, I have not entered upon perfidy nor left fidelity; I have not used cruelty, neither have I put off loyalty nor broken faith. I have not ceased from affection nor severed myself from grief; neither have I found aught after separation but misery and ruin. I know nothing of that thou avouchest nor do I love aught but that which thou lovest. By Him who knoweth the secret of the hidden things, I have no desire but to be united with her whom I love and my one business is the concealment of my passion, though sickness consume me. This is the exposition of my case and peace be on thee.' When the jeweller read this letter, he wept sore and the girl said to him, 'Leave not this place, till I return to thee; for he suspects me of such and such things, in which he is excusable; so it is my desire to bring thee in company with my mistress Shemsennehar, howsoever I may contrive it. I left her prostrate, awaiting my return with the answer.' Then she went away and the jeweller passed the night in a state of agitation. On the morrow he prayed the morning prayer and sat awaiting the girl's coming. Presently she came in to him, rejoicing, and he said to her, 'What news, O damsel?' Quoth she, 'I gave my mistress Ali ben Bekkar's reply, and when she read it, she was troubled in her mind; but I said to her, "O my lady, have no fear of the hindrance of your affair by reason of Aboulhusn's absence, for I have found one to take his place, better than he and more of worth and apt to keep secrets." Then I told her what was between Aboulhusn and thyself and how thou camest by his confidence and that of Ali ben Bekkar and how I met with thee and showed her how matters stood betwixt thee and me. Now she is minded to have speech of thee, that she may be assured by thy words of the covenants between thee and him; so do thou make ready to go with me to her forthwith. When the jeweller heard the girl's words, he saw that what she proposed was a grave matter and a great peril, not lightly to be undertaken or entered upon, and said to her, 'O my stster, verily, I am of the common people and not like unto Aboulhusn; for he was of high rank and repute and was wont to frequent the Khalif's household, because of their need of his wares. As for me, he used to talk with me, and I trembled before him the while. So, if thy mistress would have speech of me, it must be in some place other than the Khalif's palace and far from the abode of the Commander of the Faithful; for my reason will not let me do what thou proposest.' Accordingly, he refused to go with her, and she went on to assure him of impunity, saying, 'Fear not,' and pressed him, till he consented to accompany her; but, when he would have risen, his legs bent under him and his hands trembled and he exclaimed, 'God forbid that I should go with thee! Indeed, I cannot do this.' 'Reassure thyself,' answered she; 'if it irk thee to go to the Khalif's palace and thou canst not muster up courage to accompany me, I will make her come to thee; so stir not from thy place till I return to thee with her.' Then she went away and returning after a little, said to the jeweller, 'Look that there be with thee neither slave-girl nor man-slave nor any other.' Quoth he, 'I have but an old negress-slave, who waits on me.' So she locked the door between the jeweller and his negress and sent his man-servants out of the house, after which she went out and presently returned, followed by a lady, who filled the house with the sweet scent of her perfumes. When the jeweller saw her, he sprang to his feet and set her a couch and a cushion, and she sat down. He seated himself before her and she abode awhile without speaking, till she was rested, when she unveiled her face and it seemed to the jeweller as if the sun had risen in his house. Then said she to her slave-girl, 'Is this the man of whom thou spakest to me?' 'Yes,' answered she; whereupon the lady turned to the jeweller and said to him, 'How is it with thee?' 'Well,' replied he. 'May God preserve thy life and that of the Commander of the Faithful!' Quoth she, 'Thou hast moved us to come to thee and possess thee with our secret.' Then she questioned him of his household and family; and he discovered to her all his circumstance and said to her, 'I have another house, which I have set apart for entertaining my friends and brethren, and there is none there save the old negress, of whom I spoke to thy handmaid.' She asked him how he came first to know of the matter and what had made Aboulhusn absent himself, so he told her all and she bewailed the loss of Aboulhusn and said to the jeweller, 'Know that the minds of men are at one in desires, and however they may differ in estate, men are still men and have need one of the other: an affair is not accomplished without speech nor is a wish fulfilled save by endeavour: ease comes not but after weariness nor is succour compassed save by the help of the generous. Now I have trusted my secret to thee and it is in thy power to expose or shield us; I say no more, because of thy generosity of nature. Thou knowest that this my hand-maid keeps my counsel and is therefore in high favour with me and I have chosen her to transact my affairs of importance. So let none be worthier in thy sight than she and acquaint her with thine affair. Be of good cheer, for thou art safe from what thou fearest on our account, and there is no shut place but she shall open it to thee. She shall bring thee messages from me to Ali ben Bekkar, and thou shalt be our go-between.' So saying, she rose, scarcely able to stand, and the jeweller forewent her to the door of the house, after which he returned and sat down again in his place, having seen of her beauty what dazzled him and heard of her speech what confounded his wit and witnessed of her grace and courtesy what bewitched him. He sat musing on her perfections till his trouble subsided, when he called for food and ate enough to stay his stomach. Then he changed his clothes and repairing to Ali ben Bekkar's house, knocked at the door. The servants hastened to admit him and brought him to their master, whom he found laid upon his bed. When he saw the jeweller, he said to him, 'Thou hast tarried long from me and hast added concern to my concern.' Then he dismissed his servants and bade shut the doors, after which he said to the jeweller, 'By Allah, O my brother, I have not closed my eyes since I saw thee last; for the slave-girl came to me yesterday with a sealed letter from her mistress Shemsennehar;' and went on to tell him all that had passed, adding, 'Indeed, I am perplexed concerning mine affair and my patience fails me: for Aboulhusn was of comfort to me, because he knew the girl.' When the jeweller heard this, he laughed and Ali said, 'Why dost thou laugh at my words, thou in whom I rejoiced and to whom I looked for succour against the shifts of fortune?' Then he sighed and wept and repeated the following verses:

Many an one laughs at my weeping, whenas he looks on my pain. Had
     he but suffered as I have, he, also, to weep would be fain.
No one hath ruth on the smitten, for that he is doomed to endure
     But he who alike is afflicted and long in affliction hath
     lain
My passion, my yearning, my sighing, my care and distraction end
     woe Are all for a loved one, whose dwelling is in my heart's
     innermost fane.
He made his abode in my bosom and never will leave it again; And
     yet with my love to foregather I weary and travail in vain.
I know of no friend I can choose me to stand in his stead unto
     me, Nor ever, save him, a companion, to cherish and love
     have I ta'en.[FN#17]

When the jeweller heard this, he wept also and told him all that had passed betwixt himself and the slave-girl and her mistress, since he left him, whilst Ali gave ear to his speech, and at every fresh word his colour shifted 'twixt white and red and his body grew now stronger and now weaker, till he came to the end of his tale, when Ali wept and said to him, 'O my brother, I am a lost man in any event. Would my end were near, that I might be at rest from ail this! But I beg thee, of thy favour, to be my helper and comforter in all my affairs, till God accomplish His will; and I will not gainsay thee in aught.' Quoth the jeweller, 'Nothing will quench the fire of thy passion save union with her whom thou lovest: and this must not be in this perilous place, but in a house of mine other than in which the girl and her mistress came to me. This place she chose for herself, to the intent that ye may there foregather and complain one to the other of what you have suffered from the pangs of love.' 'O my lord,' answered Ali ben Bekkar, 'do as thou wilt and may God requite thee for me! What thou deemest fit will be right: but be not long about it, lest I die of this anguish.' So I abode with him (quoth the jeweller) that night, entertaining him with converse, till daybreak, when I prayed the morning prayers and going out from him, returned to my house. Hardly had I done so, when the damsel came up and saluted me. I returned her greeting and told her what had passed between Ali ben Bekkar and myself; and she said, 'Know that the Khalif has left us and there is none in our lodging, and it is safer for us and better.' 'True,' replied I; 'yet it is not like my house yonder, which is both surer and fitter for us.' 'Be it as thou wilt,' rejoined she. 'I will go to my lady and tell her what thou sayest.' So she went away and presently returned and said to me, 'It is to be as thou sayest: so make us ready the place and expect us.' Then she took out a purse of diners and said to me, 'My lady salutes thee and bids thee take this and provide therewith what the case calls for.' But I swore that I would have nought of it; so she took the purse and returning to her mistress, said to her, 'He would not take the money, but gave it back to me.' 'No matter,' answered Shemsennehar. As soon as she was gone, I betook myself to my other house and transported thither all that was needful, by way of furniture and utensils and rich carpets and vessels of china and glass and gold and silver, and made ready meat and drink for the occasion. When the damsel came and saw what I had done, it pleased her and she bade me fetch Ali ben Bekkar; but I said, 'None shall fetch him but thou.' Accordingly she went to him and brought him back, dressed to perfection and looking his best. I met him and welcomed him and making him sit down on a couch befitting his condition, set before him sweet-scented flowers in vases of china and crystal of various colours. Then I set on a tray of vari-coloured meats, of such as rejoice the heart with their sight, and sat talking with him and diverting him, whi'st the girl went away and was absent till after sundown, when she returned with Shemsennehar, attended by two maids and no more. When Ali saw her, he rose and embraced her and they both fell down in a swoon. They lay awhile insensible, then, coming to themselves, began to complain to each other of the pains of separation. They sat awhile, conversing with eloquence and tenderness, after which they perfumed themselves and fell to thanking me for what I had done. Said I, 'Have ye a mind for food?' 'Yes,' answered they. So I set food before them, and they ate till they were satisfied and washed their hands, after which I carried them to another room and brought them wine. So they drank and grew merry with wine and inclined to one another, and Shemsennehar said to me, 'O my lord, complete thy kindness by bringing us a lute or other instrument of music that the measure of our joy may be filled.' 'On my head and eyes,' answered I and rising, brought her a lute. She took it and tuned it, then laying it in her lap, made masterly music, at once exciting to sorrowful thoughts and cheering the afflicted; after which she sang the following verses:

I wake and I watch till it seemeth as I were in love with unrest
     And I waste and I languish, as sickness, meseemeth, were
     born in my breast.
The tides of my tears, ever flowing, have burnt up my cheeks with
     their heat: Would I knew if our loves, after sev'rance, with
     union again will be blest!

She went on to sing song after song, choice words set to various airs, till our minds were bewitched and it seemed as if the very room would dance with excess of pleasure for the marvel of her sweet singing and there was nor thought nor reason left in us. When we had sat awhile and the cup had gone round amongst us, the damsel took the lute and sang the following verses to a lively measure:

My love a visit promised me and did fulfil his plight One night
     that I shall reckon aye for many and many a night.
O night of raptures that the fates vouchsafed unto us twain;
     Unheeded of the railing tribe and in the spies' despite!
My loved one lay the night with me and I of my content Clipped
     him with my left hand, while he embraced me with his right.
I strained him to my breast and drank his lips' sweet wine, what
     while I of the honey and of him who sells it had delight.

Whilst we were thus drowned in the sea of gladness, in came a little maid, trembling, and said, 'O my lady, look how you may go away, for the folk are upon us and have surrounded the house, and we know not the cause of this.' When I heard this, I arose in affright, and behold, in came a slave-girl, who said, 'Calamity hath overtaken you!' At the same moment, the door was burst open and there rushed in upon us half a score masked men, with poniards in their hands and swords by their sides, and as many more behind them. When I saw this, the world, for all its wideness, was straitened on me and I looked to the door, but saw no way out; so I sprang (from the roof) into the house of one of my neighbours and hid myself there. Thence I heard a great uproar in my house and concluded that the Khalif had gotten wind of us and sent the chief of the police to seize us and bring us before him. So I abode confounded and remained in my place, without daring to move, till midnight, when the master of the house became aware of me and being greatly affrighted, made at me with a drawn sword in his hand, saying, 'Who is this in my house?' Quoth I, 'I am thy neighbour, the jeweller;' and he knew me and held his hand. Then he fetched a light and coming up to me, said, 'O my brother, indeed that which hath befallen thee this night is grievous to me.' 'O my brother,' answered I, 'tell me who it was entered my house and broke in the door, for I fled to thee, not knowing what was the matter.' Quoth he, 'The robbers, who visited our neighbours yesterday and slew such an one and took his goods, saw thee yesterday bringing hither furniture and what not; so they broke in upon thee and stole thy goods and slew thy guests.' Then we arose, he and I, and repaired to my house, which I found empty and stripped of everything, whereat I was confounded and said to myself, 'I care not for the loss of the gear, though indeed I borrowed part thereof of my friends; yet is there no harm in that, for they know my excuse in the loss of my goods and the pillage of my house; but as for Ali ben Bekkar and the Khalif's favourite, I fear lest their case get wind and this cause the loss of my life.' So I turned to my neighbour and said to him, 'Thou art my brother and my neighbour and wilt cover my nakedness; what dost thou counsel me to do?' 'I counsel thee to wait,' answered he; 'for they who entered thy house and stole thy goods have murdered the better part of a company from the Khalif's palace, besides some of the police, and the Khalif's officers are now in quest of them on every side. Haply they will chance on them and so thy wish will come about without effort of thine.' Then I returned to my other house, that in which I dwelt, saying to myself, 'This that hath befallen me is what Aboulhusn feared and from which he fled to Bassora.' Presently the pillage of my pleasure-house was noised abroad among the folk, and they came to me from all sides, some rejoicing in my misfortune and others excusing me and condoling with me, whilst I bewailed myself to them and ate not neither drank for grief. As I sat, repenting me of what I had done, one of my servants came in to me and said, 'There is a man at the door, who asks for thee; and I know him not.' So I went out and found at the door a man whom I knew not. I saluted him, and he said to me, 'I have somewhat to say to thee privily.' So I brought him in and said to him, 'What hast thou to say to me?' Quoth he, 'Come with me to thine other house.' 'Doss thou then know my other house,' asked I. 'I know all about thee,' replied he, 'and I know that also wherewith God will dispel thy concern.' So I said to myself, 'I will go with him whither he will;' and we went out and walked on till we came to my other house, which when he saw, he said to me, 'It is without door or doorkeeper, and we cannot sit in it; so come thou with me to another house.' Accordingly, he went on from place to place and I with him, till the night overtook us. Yet I put no question to him and we ceased not to walk on, till we reached the open country. He kept saying, 'Follow me,' and quickened his pace, whilst I hurried after him, heartening myself to go on. Presently; we came to the river-bank, where he took boat with me, and the boatman rowed us over to the other side. Here my guide landed and I after him and he took my hand and led me to a street I had never before entered, nor do I know in what quarter it is. Presently he stopped at the door of a house, and opening, entered and made me enter with him; after which he bolted the door with a bolt of iron and carried me along the vestibule, till he brought me in presence of ten men, brothers, as they were one and the same man. We saluted them and they returned our greeting and bade us be seated; so we sat down. Now I was like to die for very weariness; so they brought rose-water and sprinkled it on my face, after which they gave me to drink and set food before me, of which some of them ate with me. Quoth I to myself, 'Were there aught of harm in the food, they would not eat with me.' So I ate, and when we had washed our hands, each of us returned to his place. Then said they to me, 'Dost thou know us?' 'I never in my life saw you nor this your abode,' answered I; 'nay, I know not even him who brought me hither.' Said they, 'Tell us thy case and lie not in aught.' 'Know then,' rejoined I, 'that my case is strange and my affair marvellous: but do you know aught of me?' 'Yes,' answered they; 'it was we took thy goods yesternight and carried off thy friend and her who was singing to him.' 'May God let down the veil of His protection over you!' said I. 'But where is my friend and she who was singing to him?' They pointed to two doors and replied, 'They are yonder, each in a room apart; but, by Allah, O our brother, the secret of their case is known to none but thee, for from the time we brought them hither, we have not seen them nor questioned them of their condition, seeing them to be persons of rank and dignity. This it was that hindered us from putting them to death: so tell us the truth of their case and be assured of their safety and thine own.' When I heard this, I was like to die of fright and said to them, 'O my brethren, if generosity were lost, it would not be found save with you and had I a secret, which I feared to divulge, your breasts alone should have the keeping of it.' And I went on to expatiate to them in this sense, till I saw that frankness would profit me more than concealment; so I told them the whole story. When they heard it, they said, 'And is this young man Ali ben Bekkar and this damsel Shemsennehar?' 'Yes,' answered I. This was grievous to them and they rose and made their excuses to the two lovers. Then they said to me, 'Part of what we took from thy house is spent, but here is what is left of it.' So saying, they gave me back the most part of my goods and engaged to return them to my house and restore me the rest. So my heart was set at ease, and some of them abode with me, whilst the rest fetched Ali ben Bekkar and Shemsennehar, who were well-nigh dead for excess of fear. Then they all sallied forth with us and I went up to the two lovers and saluting them, said to them, 'What became of the damsel and the two maids?' 'We know nothing of them,' answered they. Then we walked on till we came to the river-bank, where we all embarked in the boat that had brought me over before, and the boatman rowed us to the other side; but hardly had we landed and sat down on the bank to rest, when a troop of horse swooped down on us like eagles and surrounded us on all sides, whereupon the robbers with us sprang up in haste and the boatman, putting back for them, took them in and pushed off into mid-stream, leaving us on the bank, unable to move or abide still. The horseman said to us, 'Whence come ye?' And we were perplexed for an answer; but I said, 'Those ye saw with us are rogues: we know them not. As for us, we are singers, whom they would have taken to sing to them, nor could we win free of them, save by subtlety and fair words, and they have but now left us.' They looked at Ali and Shemsennehar and said to me, 'Thou hast not spoken sooth; but if thy tale be true, tell us who you are and whence you come and in what quarter you dwell.' I knew not what to answer, but Shemsennehar sprang up and approaching the captain of the troop, spoke with him privily, whereupon he dismounted and setting her on his steed, began to lead it along by the bridle. Two of his men did the like with Ali ben Bekkar and myself, and they fared on with us, till they reached a certain part of the river-bank, when the captain sang out in jargon and there came to us a number of men with two boats. The captain embarked with Shemsennehar in one boat and went his way, whilst the rest of his men put off in the other, with Ali ben Bekkar and myself, and rowed on with us, we the while enduring the agonies of death for excess of fear, till they came to a place whence there was a way to our quarter. Here we landed and walked on, escorted by some of the horsemen, till we came to Ali ben Bekkar's house, where they took leave of us and went their way. We entered the house and abode there, unable to stir and knowing not night from day, till nightfall of the next day, when I came to myself and saw Ali ben Bekkar stretched out without sense or motion, and the men and women of his household weeping over him. When they saw that I had recovered my senses, some of them came to me and helping me sit up, said to me, 'Tell us what hath befallen our son and how he came in this plight.' 'O folk,' answered I, 'hearken to me and importune me not; but be patient and he will come to himself and tell you his story for himself.' And I was round with them and made them afraid of a scandal between us; but as we were thus, behold, Ali ben Bekkar moved in his bed, whereat his friends rejoiced and the [most part of the] folk withdrew from him; but his people forbade me to go away. Then they sprinkled rose-water on his face, and he presently revived and breathed the air, whereupon they questioned him of his case. He essayed to answer them, but could not speak forthright and signed to them to let me go home. So they let me go, and I returned to my own house, supported by two men and hardly crediting my escape. When my people saw me thus, they fell a-shrieking and buffeting their faces; but I signed to them to hold their peace, and they were silent. Then the two men went their way and I threw myself down on my bed, where I lay the rest of the night and awoke not till the forenoon, when I found my people collected round me and they said, 'What hath befallen thee and what (evil) hath smitten thee with its mischief?' Quoth I, 'Bring me to drink.' So they brought me wine, and I drank what I would and said to them, 'Wine got the better of me and it was this caused the state in which ye saw me' Then they went away, and I made my excuses to my friends and asked if any of the goods that had been stolen from my other house had been returned.' 'Yes,' answered they. 'Some of them have come back: and the manner of their coming was that a man came and threw them down in the doorway and we saw him not.' So I comforted myself and abode two days, unable to rise, at the end of which time I began to regain strength and went to the bath, for I was worn out with fatigue and troubled at heart for Ali ben Bekkar and Shemsennehar, because I had no news of them all this time and could neither get to Ali's house nor rest in my own, out of fear for myself. And I repented to God the Most High of what I had done and praised Him for my safety. Then I bethought me to go to such and such a place and see the folk and divert myself; so I went to the stuff-market and sat awhile with a friend of mine there. When I rose to go, I saw a woman standing in my road; so I looked at her, and behold it was Shemsennehar's slave-girl. When I saw her, the world grew dark in my eyes and I hurried on. She followed me, but I was afraid and fled from her, trembling whenever I looked at her, whilst she pursued me, saying, 'Stop, that I may tell thee somewhat.' But I heeded her not and went on, till I reached a mosque in an unfrequented spot, and she said to me, 'Enter the mosque, that I may say a word to thee, and fear nothing.' And she conjured me: so I entered the mosque, and she after me. I prayed a two-bow prayer, after which I turned to her, sighing, and said, 'What dost thou want?' She asked me how I did, and I told her all that had befallen myself and Ali ben Bekkar and asked her for news of herself. 'Know,' answered she, 'that when I and the two maids saw the robbers break open thy door, we doubted not but they were the Khalif's officers and would seize us and our mistress and we perish forthright: so we fled over the roofs and casting ourselves down from a high place, took refuge with some people, who harboured us and brought us to the palace, where we arrived in the sorriest of plights. We concealed our case and abode on coals of fire till nightfall, when I opened the river-gate and calling the boatman who had carried us the night before, said to him, "I know not what is come of my mistress; so take me in thy boat, that we may seek her on the river: it may be I shall chance on some news of her." So he took me into the boat and rowed about with me till midnight, when I spied a boat making towards the water-gate, with one man rowing and another standing up and a woman lying prostrate between them. When they reached the shore and the woman landed, I looked at her, and behold, it was Shemsennehar. So I landed and joined her, dazed for joy, after having lost hope of her. When I came up to her, she bade me give the man who had brought her thither a thousand diners, and I and the two maids carried her in and laid her on her bed, and she at death's door. She abode thus all that day and the next day and I forbade the eunuchs and women to go in to her; but on the third day, she revived and I found her as she had come out of the grave. So I sprinkled rose-water upon her face and changed her clothes and washed her hands and feet, nor did I cease to persuade her, till I brought her to eat a little and drink some wine, though she had no mind to it. As soon as she had breathed the air and strength began to return to her, I fell to upbraiding her, saying, "Consider, O my lady, and have pity on thyself; thou seest what has betided us Surely, enough of evil hath befallen thee and thou hast been nigh upon death." "By Allah, O good damsel," replied she, "death were easier to me than what hath befallen me; for I had renounced all hope of deliverance and gave myself up for lost. When the robbers took us from the jeweller's house, they asked me who I was; I replied, 'I am a singing-girl,' and they believed me. Then they said to Ali ben Bekkar, 'And who art thou and what is thy condition?' And he answered, 'I am of the common people.' So they carried us to their abode, and we hurried on with them for fear; but when they had us with them in the house, they looked at me and seeing the clothes I wore and my necklaces and jewellery, believed me not and said to me, 'No singing-girl ever had such jewels as these; tell us the truth of thy case.' I returned them no answer, saying in myself, 'Now will they kill me for my clothes and ornaments;' and I spoke not a word. Then they turned to Ali ben Bekkar and said to him, 'And thou, who and whence art thou? For thy favour is not as that of the common folk.' But he was silent and we ceased not to keep our counsel and weep, till God inclined the rogues' hearts towards us and they said to us, 'Who is the owner of the house in which you were?' 'Such an one, the jeweller,' answered we; whereupon quoth one of them, 'I know him well and where he lives, and I will engage to bring him to you forthright.' Then they agreed to set me in a place by myself and Ali ben Bekkar in a place by himself, and said to us, 'Be at rest and fear not lest your secret be divulged; ye are safe from us.' Meanwhile their comrade went away and returned with the jeweller, who made known to them our case, and we joined company with him; after which one of the band fetched a boat, in which they embarked us all three and rowing us over the river, landed us on the opposite bank and went away; whereupon up came a horse-patrol and asked us who we were. So I spoke with the captain and said to him, 'I am Shemsennehar, the Khalif's favourite; I had drunken wine and went out to visit certain of my acquaintance of the wives of the Viziers, when yonder rogues laid hold of me and brought me hither; but when they saw you, they fled. I met these men with them; so do thou escort me and them to a place of safety and I will requite thee.' When the captain heard my speech, he knew me and alighting, mounted me on his horse; and in like manner did two of his men with Ali and the jeweller. And now my heart is on fire on their account, especially for Ali's friend the jeweller: so do thou go to him and salute him and ask him for news of Ali ben Bekkar." I spoke to her and blamed her and bade her beware, saying' "O my lady, have a care for thyself and give up this intrigue." But she was angered at my words and cried out at me. So I came forth in quest of thee, but found thee not and dared not go to Ali's house; so stood watching for thee, that I might ask thee of him and know how it is with him. And I beg thee, of thy favour, to take some money of me, for belike thou borrowedst of thy friends some of the goods, and as they are lost, it behoves thee to make them compensation.' 'I hear and obey,' answered I. 'Go on.' And I walked with her till we drew near my house, when she said to me, 'Wait till I return to thee.' So she went away and presently returned with a bag of money, which she handed to me, saying, 'O my lord, where shall we meet?' Quoth I, 'I will go to my house at once and suffer hardship for thy sake and contrive how thou mayst win to him, for access to him is difficult at this present.' 'Let me know where I shall come to thee,' said she, and I answered, 'In my other house; I will go thither forthright and have the doors repaired and the place made secure again, and henceforth we will meet there.' Then she took leave of me and went her way, whilst I carried the money home, and counting it, found it five thousand diners. I gave my people some of it and made good their loss to all who had lent me aught, after which I took my servants and repaired to my other house, with builders and carpenters, who restored it to its former state. Moreover, I placed my negress-slave there and forgot what had befallen me. Then I repaired to Ali ben Bekkar's house, where his servants accosted me, saying, 'Our lord calls for thee day and night and hath promised his freedom to whichever of us brings thee to him; so we have been in quest of thee everywhere, but knew not where to find thee. Our master is by way of recovery, but he has frequent relapses, and when he revives, he names thee and says, "Needs must ye bring him to me, though but for an instant," and sinks back into his torpor.' So I went in to Ali ben Bekkar and finding him unable to speak, sat down at his head, whereupon he opened his eyes and seeing me, wept and said, 'Welcome and fair welcome!' I raised him and making him sit up, strained him to my bosom, and he said, 'Know, O my brother, that, since I took to my bed, I have not sat up till now: praised be God that I see thee again!' Presently, little by little, I made him stand up and walk a few steps, after which I changed his clothes and he drank some wine. All this he did to please me. Then, seeing him to be somewhat restored, I told him what had befallen me with the slave-girl, none else hearing me, and said to him, 'I know what thou sufferest; but take heart and be of good courage; for henceforth nought shall betide thee, but what shall rejoice thee and ease thine heart.' He smiled and called for food, which being brought, he signed to his servants, and they withdrew. Then said he to me, 'O my brother, thou seest what hath befallen me;' and he made his excuses to me and enquired how I had fared all that while. I told him all that had befallen me, from first to last, at which he wondered and calling his servants, said, 'Bring me such and such things.' Accordingly, they brought in rich carpets and hangings and utensils of gold and silver, more than I had lost, and he gave them all to me; so I sent them to my house and abode with him that night. When the day began to break, he said to me, 'To everything there is an end, and the end of love is death or enjoyment. I am nearer unto death, would I had died ere this befell! For, had not God favoured us, we had been discovered and put to shame. And now I know not what shall deliver me from this my strait, and were it not that I fear God, I would hasten my own death; for know, O my brother, that I am like the bird in the cage and that my life is of a surety perished, by reason of the distresses that have befallen me; yet hath it a fixed period and an appointed term.' And he wept and groaned and repeated the following verses:

Indeed, it sufficeth the lover the time that his tears have run;
     As for affliction, of patience it hath him all fordone.
He who concealeth the secrets conjoined us heretofore And now His
     hand hath severed that which Himself made one.

When he had finished, I said to him, 'O my lord, I would fain return to my house; it may be the damsel will come back to me with news.' 'It is well,' answered he; 'go and return to me speedily with news, for thou seest my condition.' So I took leave of him and went home. Hardly had I sat down, when up came the damsel, choked with her tears. 'What is the matter?' asked I, and she said, 'O my lord, what we feared has fallen on us; for, when I returned yesterday to my lady, I found her enraged with one of the two maids who were with us the other night, and she ordered her to be beaten. The girl took fright and ran away; but one of the gate-keepers stopped her and would have sent her back to her mistress. However, she let fall some hints, which excited his curiosity; so he coaxed her and led her on to talk, and she acquainted him with our case. This came to the ears of the Khalif, who bade remove my mistress and all her gear to his own palace and set over her a guard of twenty eunuchs. Since then he has not visited her nor given her to know the cause of his action, but I suspect this to be the cause; wherefore I am in fear for myself and am perplexed, O my lord, knowing not what I shall do nor how I shall order my affair and hers, for she had none more trusted nor trustier than myself. So do thou go quickly to Ali ben Bekkar and acquaint him with this, that he may be on his guard; and if the affair be discovered, we will cast about for a means of saving ourselves.' At this, I was sore troubled and the world grew dark in my sight for the girl's words. Then she turned to go, and I said to her, 'What is to be done?' Quoth she, 'My counsel is that thou hasten to Ali ben Bekkar, if thou be indeed his friend and desire his escape; thine be it to carry him the news forthright, and be it mine to watch for further news.' Then she took her leave of me and went away. I followed her out and betaking myself to Ali ben Bekkar, found him flattering himself with hopes of speedy enjoyment and staying himself with vain expectations. When he saw me, he said, 'I see thou hast come back to me forthwith' 'Summon up all thy patience,' answered I, 'and put away thy vain doting and shake off thy preoccupation, for there hath befallen that which may bring about the loss of thy life and goods.' When he heard this, he was troubled and his colour changed and he said to me, 'O my brother, tell me what hath happened.' 'O my lord,' replied I, 'such and such things have happened and thou art lost without recourse, if thou abide in this thy house till the end of the day.' At this he was confounded and his soul well-nigh departed his body, but he recovered himself and said to me, 'What shall I do, O my brother, and what is thine advice?' 'My advice,' answered I, 'is that thou take what thou canst of thy property and whom of thy servants thou trustest and flee with me to a land other than this, ere the day come to an end.' And he said, 'I hear and obey.' So he rose, giddy and dazed, now walking and now falling down and took what came under his hand. Then he made an excuse to his household and gave them his last injunctions, after which he loaded three camels and mounted his hackney. I did the like and we went forth privily in disguise and fared on all day and night, till nigh upon morning, when we unloaded and hobbling our camels, lay down to sleep; but, being worn with fatigue, we neglected to keep watch, so that there fell on us robbers, who stripped us of all we had and slew our servants, when they would have defended us, after which they made off with their booty, leaving us naked and in the sorriest of plights. As soon as they were gone, we arose and walked on till morning, when we came to a village and took refuge in its mosque. We sat in a corner of the mosque all that day and the next night, without meat or drink; and at daybreak, we prayed the morning prayer and sat down again. Presently, a man entered and saluting us, prayed a two-bow prayer, after which he turned to us and said, 'O folk, are ye strangers?' 'Yes,' answered we, 'robbers waylaid us and stripped us, and we came to this town, but know none here with whom we may shelter.' Quoth he, 'What say you? Will you come home with me?' And I said to Ali ben Bekkar, 'Let us go with him, and we shall escape two evils; first, our fear lest some one who knows us enter the mosque and so we be discovered; and secondly, that we are strangers and have no place to lodge in.' 'As thou wilt,' answered he. Then the man said to us again, 'O poor folk, give ear unto me and come with me to my house.' 'We hear and obey,' answered I; whereupon he pulled off a part of his own clothes and covered us therewith and made his excuses to us and spoke kindly to us. Then we accompanied him to his house and he knocked at the door, whereupon a little servant came out and opened to us. We entered after our host, who called for a parcel of clothes and muslin for turbans, and gave us each a suit of clothes and a piece of muslin; so we made us turbans and sat down. Presently, in came a damsel with a tray of food and set it before us, saying, 'Eat.' We ate a little and she took away the tray; after which we abode with our host till nightfall, when Ali ben Bekkar sighed and said to me, 'Know, O my brother, that I am a dead man and I have a charge to give thee: it is that, when thou seest me dead, thou go to my mother and tell her and bid her come hither, that she may be present at the washing of my body and take order for my funeral; and do thou exhort her to bear my loss with patience.' Then he fell down in a swoon and when he revived, he heard a damsel singing afar off and addressed himself to give ear to her and hearken to her voice; and now he was absent from the world and now came to himself, and anon he wept for grief and mourning at what had befallen him. Presently, he heard the damsel sing the following verses:

Parting hath wrought in haste our union to undo After the
     straitest loves and concord 'twixt us two.
The shifts of night and day have torn our lives apart. When shall
     we meet again? Ah, would to God I knew!
After conjoined delight, how bitter sev'rance is! Would God it
     had no power to baffle lovers true!
Death's anguish hath its hour, then endeth; but the pain Of
     sev'rance from the loved at heart is ever new.
Could we but find a way to come at parting's self, We'd surely
     make it taste of parting's cup of rue.

When he heard this, he gave one sob and his soul quitted his body. As soon as I saw that he was dead, I committed his body to the care of the master of the house and said to him, 'I go to Baghdad, to tell his mother and kinsfolk, that they may come hither and take order for his burial' So I betook myself to Baghdad and going to my house, changed my clothes, after which I repaired to Ali ben Bekkar's lodging. When his servants saw me, they came to me and questioned me of him, and I bade them ask leave for me to go in to his mother. She bade admit me; so I entered and saluting her, said, 'Verily God orders the lives of all creatures by His commandment and when He decreeth aught, there is no escaping its fulfilment, nor can any soul depart but by His leave, according to the Writ which prescribeth the appointed terms.' She guessed by these words that her son was dead and wept sore, then she said to me, 'I conjure thee by Allah, tell me, is my son dead?' I could not answer her for tears and much grief, and when she saw me thus, she was choked with weeping and fell down in a swoon. As soon as she came to herself, she said to me, 'Tell me how my son died.' 'May God abundantly requite thee for him!' answered I and told her all that had befallen him, from first to last. 'Did he give thee any charge?' asked she. 'Yes,' answered I and told her what he had said, adding, 'Hasten to take order for his funeral.' When she heard this, she swooned away again; and when she recovered, she addressed herself to do as I bade her. Then I returned to my house; and as I went along, musing sadly upon his fair youth, a woman caught hold of my hand. I looked at her and behold, it was Shemsennehar's slave-girl, broken for grief. When we knew each other, we both wept and gave not over weeping till we reached my house, and I said to her, 'Knowest thou the news of Ali ben Bekkar?' 'No, by Allah,' replied she; so I told her the manner of his death and all that had passed, whilst we both wept; after which I said to her, 'And how is it with thy mistress?' Quoth she, 'The Khalif would not hear a word against her, but saw all her actions in a favourable light, of the great love he bore her, and said to her, "O Shemsennehar, thou art dear to me and I will bear with thee and cherish thee, despite thine enemies." Then he bade furnish her a saloon decorated with gold and a handsome sleeping-chamber, and she abode with him in all ease of life and high favour. One day, as he sat at wine, according to his wont, with his favourites before him, he bade them be seated in their places and made Shemsennehar sit by his side. (Now her patience was exhausted and her disorder redoubled upon her.) Then he bade one of the damsels sing: so she took a lute and tuning it, preluded and sang the following verses:

One sought me of lore and I yielded and gave him that which he
     sought. And my tears write the tale of my transport in
     furrows upon my cheek.
Meseemeth as if the teardrops were ware, indeed, of our case And
     hide what I'd fain discover and tell what to hide I seek.
How can I hope to be secret and hide the love that I feel, Whenas
     the stress of my longing my passion for thee doth speak?
Death, since the loss of my loved ones, is sweet to me: would I
     knew What unto them is pleasant, now that they've lost me
     eke!

When Shemsennehar heard these verses, she could not keep her seat, but fell down in a swoon, whereupon the Khalif threw the cup from his hand and drew her to him, crying out. The damsels clamoured and he turned her over and shook her, and behold, she was dead. The Khalif grieved sore for her death and bade break all the vessels and lutes and other instruments of mirth and music in the place; then carrying her body to his closet, he abode with her the rest of the night. When the day broke, he laid her out and commanded to wash her and shroud her and bury her. And he mourned very sore for her and questioned not of her case nor what ailed her. And I beg thee in God's name,' continued the damsel, 'to let me know the day of the coming of Ali ben Bekkar's funeral train, that I may be present at his burial.' Quoth I, 'For myself, thou canst find me where thou wilt; but thou, who can come at thee where thou art?' 'On the day of Shemsennehar's death,' answered she, 'the Commander of the Faithful freed all her women, myself among the rest; and we are now abiding at the tomb in such a place.' So I accompanied her to the burial-ground and visited Shemennehar's tomb;[FN#18] after which I went my way and awaited the coming of Ali ben Bekkar's funeral. When it arrived, the people of Baghdad went forth to meet it and I with them; and I saw the damsel among the women and she the loudest of them in lamentation, crying out and wailing with a voice that rent the vitals and made the heart ache. Never was seen in Baghdad a greater funeral than his and we ceased not to follow in crowds, till we reached the cemetery and buried him to the mercy of God the most High; nor from that time to this have I ceased to visit his tomb and that of Shemsennehar." This, then, is their story, and may God the Most High have mercy upon them!

KEMEREZZEMAN AND BUDOUR.

There was once, of old time, a king called Shehriman, who was lord of many troops and guards and officers and reigned over certain islands, known as the Khalidan Islands, on the borders of the land of the Persians; but he was grown old and decrepit, without having been blessed with a son, albeit he had four wives, daughters of kings, and threescore concubines, with each of whom he was wont to lie one night in turn. This preyed upon his mind and disquieted him, so that he complained thereof to one of his Viziers, saying, 'I fear lest my kingdom be lost, when I die, for that I have no son to take it after me.' 'O King,' answered the Vizier, 'peradventure God shall yet provide for this; do thou put thy trust in Him and be constant in supplication to Him.' So the King rose and making his ablutions, prayed a two-bow prayer with a believing heart; after which he called one of his wives to bed and lay with her forthright. By God's grace, she conceived by him and when her months were accomplished, she bore a male child, like the moon on the night of its full. The King named him Kemerezzeman and rejoiced in him with exceeding joy and bade decorate the city in his honour. So they decorated the city seven days, whilst the drums beat and the messengers bore the glad tidings abroad. Meanwhile nurses and attendants were provided for the boy and he was reared in splendour and delight, until he reached the age of fifteen. He grew up of surpassing beauty and symmetry, and his father loved him very dear, so that he could not brook to be parted from him day or night. One day, he complained to one of his Viziers of the excess of his love for his son, saying, 'O Vizier, of a truth I fear the shifts and accidents of fortune for my son Kemerezzeman and fain would I marry him in my lifetime.' 'O King,' answered the Vizier, 'marriage is one of the most honourable of actions, and thou wouldst indeed do well to marry thy son in thy lifetime, ere thou make him king.' Quoth the King, 'Fetch me my son;' so Kemerezzeman came and bowed his head before his father, out of modesty. 'O Kemerezzeman,' said the King, 'I desire to marry thee and rejoice in thee in my lifetime.' 'O my father,' answered the prince, 'know that I have no wish to marry, nor doth my soul incline to women; for that I have read many books and heard much talk concerning their craft and perfidy, even as saith the poet:

If ye would know of women and question of their case, Lo, I am
     versed in their fashions and skilled all else above.
When a man's head grows grizzled or for the nonce his wealth
     Falls from his hand, then, trust me, he hath no part in
     their love.

And again:

Gainsay women; he obeyeth Allah best who saith them nay, And he
     prospers not who giveth them his bridle-rein to sway;
For they'll hinder him from winning to perfection in his gifts,
     Though a thousand years he study, seeking after wisdom's
     way.

Wherefore (continued Kemerezzeman) marriage is a thing to which I will never consent; no, not though I drink the cup of death.' When the King heard this, the light in his sight became darkness and he was excessively chagrined at his son's lack of obedience to his wishes; yet, for the great love he bore him, he forbore to press him and was not wroth with him, but caressed him and spoke him fair and showed him all manner of kindness such as tends to cultivate affection. He took patience with him a whole year, during which time Kemerezzeman increased daily in beauty and elegance and amorous grace, till he became perfect in eloquence and loveliness. All men were ravished with his beauty and every breeze that blew carried the tidings of his charms; he was a seduction to lovers and a garden of delight to longing hearts, for he was sweet of speech and his face put the full moon to shame. Accomplished in symmetry as in elegance and engaging manners, his shape was slender and graceful as the willow-wand or the flowering cane and his cheeks might pass for roses or blood-red anemones. He was, in fine, charming in all respects, even as the poet hath said of him:

He comes and "Blest be God!" say all men, high and base. "Glory
     to Him who shaped and fashioned forth his face!"
He's monarch of the fair, wherever they may be; For, lo, they're
     all become the liegemen of his grace.
The water of his mouth is liquid honey-dew And 'twixt his lips
     for teeth fine pearls do interlace.
Perfect in every trait of beauty and unique, His witching
     loveliness distracts the human race.
Beauty itself hath writ these words upon his cheek, "Except this
     youth there's none that's fair in any place."

When the year came to an end, the King called his son to him and said, 'O my son, wilt thou not hearken to me?' Whereupon Kemerezzeman fell down for respect and shame before his father and replied, 'O my father, how should I not hearken to thee, seeing that God commandeth me to obey thee and not gainsay thee?' 'O my son,' said King Shehriman, 'know that I desire to marry thee and rejoice in thee, whilst yet I live, and make thee king over my realm, before my death.' When the prince heard this, he bowed his head awhile, then raised it and said, 'O my father, this is a thing that I will never do, though I drink the cup of death. I know of a surety that God the Most High enjoins on me obedience to thee; but in His name I conjure thee, press me not in this matter of marriage, neither think that I will ever marry my life long; for that I have read the books both of the ancients and the moderns and have come to know all the troubles and calamities that have befallen them through women and the disasters that have sprung from their craft without end. How well says the poet:

He, whom the baggages entrap, Deliverance shall never know,
Although a thousand forts he build, Plated with lead;—'gainst
     such a foe
It shall not profit him to build Nor citadels avail, I trow.
Women are traitresses to all, Both near and far and high and low.
With fingers dyed and flowing hair Plaited with tresses, sweet of
     show,
And eyelids beautified with kohl, They make one drink of bale and
     woe.

And no less excellently saith another:

Women, for all to chastity they're bidden, everywhere Are carrion
     tossed about of all the vultures of the air.
To-night their converse, ay, and all their secret charms are
     thine, But on the morn their leg and wrist fall to another's
     share;
Like to an inn in which thou lodg'st, departing with the dawn,
     And one thou know'st not, after thee, lights down and lodges
     there.

When King Shehriman heard these his son's words, he made him no answer, of his great love for him, but redoubled in favour and kindness to him. As soon as the audience was over, he called his Vizier and taking him apart, said to him, 'O Vizier, tell me how I shall do with my son in this matter of his marriage. I took counsel with thee thereon and thou didst counsel me to marry him, before making him king. I have spoken with him once and again of marriage, and he still gainsaid me; so do thou now counsel me what to do.' 'O King,' answered the Vizier, 'wait another year, and if after that thou be minded to speak to him on the matter of marriage, do it not privily, but on a day of state, when all the Viziers and Amirs are present and all the troops standing before thee. Then send for thy son and broach to him the matter of marriage before the Viziers and grandees and officers of state and captains; for he will surely be daunted by their presence and will not dare to oppose thy will.' The King rejoiced exceedingly in his Vizier's advice, deeming it excellent, and bestowed on him a splendid robe of honour. Then he took patience with his son another year, whilst, with every day that passed over him, Kemerezzeman increased in grace and beauty and elegance and perfection, till he was nigh twenty years old. Indeed, God had clad him in the habit of beauty and crowned him with the crown of perfection: his eyes were more ensorcelling than Harout and Marout[FN#19] and the play of his glances more misleading than Taghout.[FN#20] His cheeks shone with redness and his eyelashes outvied the keen-edged sword: the whiteness of his forehead resembled the shining moon and the blackness of his hair was as the murky night. His waist was more slender than the gossamer and his buttocks heavier than two hills of sand, troubling the heart with their softness; but his waist complained of their weight. In fine, his charms ravished all mankind, even as saith the poet:

By his cheeks' unfading damask and his smiling teeth I swear, By
     the arrows that he feathers with the witchery of his air,
By his sides so soft and tender and his glances bright and keen,
     By the whiteness of his forehead and the blackness of his
     hair,
By his arched imperious eyebrows, chasing slumber from mine eyes,
     With their yeas and noes that hold me 'twixt rejoicing and
     despair,
By the scorpious[FN#21] that he launches from his
     ringlet-clustered brows, Seeking ever in their meshes
     hapless lovers to ensnare,
By the myrtle of his whiskers and the roses of his cheeks, By his
     lips' incarnate rubies and his teeth's fine pearls and rare,
By his breath's delicious fragrance and the waters of his mouth,
     That defy old wine and choicest with their sweetness to
     compare,
By his heavy hips that tremble, both in motion and repose, And
     the slender waist above them, all too slight their weight to
     bear,
By his hand's perennial bounty and his true and trusty speech, By
     the stars that smile upon him, favouring and debonair,
Lo, the scent of musk none other than his very perfume is, And
     the ambergris's fragrance breathes about him everywhere.
Yea, the sun in all his splendour cannot with his brightness vie,
     And the crescent moon's a fragment that he from his nail
     doth pare.

The King, accordingly, waited till a day of state, when the audience hall was filled with his Amirs and Viziers and grandees and officers of state and captains. As soon as they were all assembled, he sent for his son Kemerezzeman, who came and kissing the earth three times, stood before him, with his hands clasped behind his back. Then said the King to him, 'Know, O my son, that I have sent for thee and summoned thee to appear before this assembly and all these officers of state that I may lay a commandment on thee, wherein do thou not gainsay me. It is that thou marry, for I am minded to wed thee to a king's daughter and rejoice in thee ere I die.' When the prince heard these his father's words, he bowed his head awhile, then raising it, replied, being moved thereto by youthful folly and boyish ignorance, 'Never will I marry, no, not though I drink the cup of death! As for thee, thou art great in years and little of wit: hast thou not, twice before this, questioned me of the matter of marriage, and I refused thee? Indeed, thou dotest and art not fit to govern a flock of sheep!' So saying, he unclasped his hands from behind his back and rolled up his sleeves, in his rage; moreover, he added many words to his father, knowing not what he said, in the trouble of his spirit. The King was confounded and ashamed, for that this befell in the presence of his grandees and officers assembled on an occasion of state; but presently the energy of kingship took him and he cried out upon his son and made him tremble. Then he called to his guards and bade them seize him and bind his hands behind his back. So they laid hands on Kemerezzeman and binding him, brought him before his father, full of shame and confusion, with his head bowed down for fear and inquietude and his brow and face beaded with sweat. The King loaded him with reproaches, saying, 'Out on thee, thou whoreson and nursling of abomination! Dost thou dare to answer me thus before my captains and officers? But hitherto none hath corrected thee. Knowest thou not that this thou hast done were disgraceful in the meanest of my subjects?' And he commanded his guards to loose his bonds and imprison him in one of the turrets of the citadel. So they carried the prince into an old tower, wherein there was a dilapidated saloon, after having first swept it and cleansed its floor and set him a couch in its midst, on which they laid a mattress, a leathern rug and a cushion. Then they brought him a great lantern and a candle, for the place was dark, even by day, and posting an eunuch at the door, left him to himself. Kemerezzeman threw himself on the couch, broken-spirited and mournful-hearted, blaming himself and repenting of his unseemly behaviour to his father, when repentance availed him nothing, and saying, 'May God curse marriage and girls and women, the traitresses! Would I had hearkened to my father and married! It were better for me than this prison.'

Meanwhile, King Shehriman abode on his throne till sundown, when he took the Vizier apart and said to him, 'O Vizier, thine advice is the cause of all this that hath befallen between me and my son. What doth thou counsel me to do now?' 'O King,' answered he, 'leave thy son in prison for the space of fifteen days; then send for him and command him to marry, and he will not again gainsay thee.' The King accepted the Vizier's counsel and lay down to sleep, troubled at heart concerning Kemerezzeman, for he loved him very dearly, having no other child, and it was his wont not to sleep, save with his arm about his son's neck. So he passed the night in trouble and unease, tossing from side to side, as he were laid on coals of tamarisk-wood; for he was overcome with inquietude and sleep visited him not all that night; but his eyes ran over with tears and he repeated the following verses:

The night, whilst the slanderers sleep, is tedious unto me;
     Suffice thee a heart that aches for parting's agony!
I cry, whilst my night for care grows long and longer aye, "O
     light of the morning, say, is there no returning for thee?"

And these also:

When the Pleïads I saw leave to shine in their stead And over the
     pole-star a lethargy shed
And the maids of the Bier[FN#22] in black raiment unveiled, I
     knew that the lamp of the morning was dead.

To return to Kemerezzeman. When the night came on, the eunuch set the lantern before him and lighting a candle, placed it in the candlestick; then brought him food. The prince ate a little and reproached himself for his ill-behaviour to his father, saying to himself, 'O my soul, knowst thou not that a son of Adam is the hostage of his tongue and that a man's tongue is what casts him into perils?' Then his eyes ran over with tears and he bewailed that which he had done, from an anguished heart and an aching bosom, repenting him with an exceeding repentance of the wrong he had done his father repeating the following verses:

For the sheer stumble of his tongue the youth must death aby,
     Though for the stumble of his foot the grown man shall not
     die.
Thus doth the slipping of his mouth smite off his head, I ween,
     What while the slipping of his foot is healed, as time goes
     by.

When he had made an end of eating, he called the eunuch, who washed his hands. Then he made his ablutions and prayed the prayers of sundown and nightfall, after which he sat down on the couch, to read[FN#23] the Koran. He read the chapters called 'The Cow,' 'The family of Imran,' 'Ya-Sin,' 'The Compassionate,' 'Blessed be the King,' 'Unity' and 'The two Amulets,' and concluded with blessing and supplication, seeking refuge with God from Satan the accursed. Then he put off his trousers and the rest of his clothes and lay down, in a shirt of fine waxed cloth and a coif of blue stuff of Merv, upon a mattress of satin, embroidered on both sides with gold and quilted with Irak silk, having under his head a pillow stuffed with ostrich-down. In this guise, he was like the full moon, when it rises on its fourteenth night. Then, drawing over himself a coverlet of silk, he fell asleep with the lantern burning at his feet and the candle at his head, and woke not for a third part of the night, being ignorant of that which lurked for him in the secret purpose of God and what He who knoweth the hidden things had appointed unto him. Now, as chance and destiny would have it, the tower in question was old and had been many years deserted; and there was therein a Roman well, inhabited by an Afriteh of the lineage of Iblis the Accursed, by name Maimouneh, daughter of Ed Dimiryat, a renowned King of the Jinn. In the middle of the night, Maimouneh came up out of the well and made for heaven, thinking to listen by stealth to the discourse of the angels; but, when she reached the mouth of the well, she saw a light shining in the tower, contrary to wont; whereat she was mightily amazed, having dwelt there many years and never seen the like, and said to herself, 'Needs must there be some cause for this.' So she made for the light and found that it came from the saloon, at whose door she found the eunuch sleeping. She entered and saw a man Iying asleep upon the couch, with the lantern burning at his feet and the candle at his head; at which she wondered and going softly up to him, folded her wings and drawing back the coverlid, discovered his face. The lustre of his visage outshone that of the candle, and the Afriteh abode awhile, astounded at his beauty and grace; for his face beamed with light, his cheeks were rose-red and his eyelids languorous; his brows were arched like bows and his whole person exhaled a scent of musk, even as saith of him the poet:

I kissed him and his cheeks forthwith grew red, and black and
     bright The pupils grew that are my soul's seduction and
     delight.
O heart, if slanderers avouch that there exists his like For
     goodliness, say thou to them, "Produce him to my sight."

When Maimouneh saw him, she glorified God and said, 'Blessed be Allah, the best of Creators!' For she was of the true-believing Jinn. She stood awhile, gazing on his face, proclaiming the unity of God and envying the youth his beauty and grace. And she said in herself, 'By Allah, I will do him no hurt nor let any harm him, but will ransom him from all ill, for this fair face deserves not but that folk should look upon it and glorify God. But how could his family find it in their hearts to leave him in this desert place, where if one of our Marids came upon him at this hour, he would kill him?' Then she bent over him and kissing him between the eyes, folded back the coverlet over his face; after which she spread her wings and soaring into the air, flew upward till she drew near the lowest heaven, when she heard the noise of wings beating the air and making for the sound, found that it came from an Afrit called Dehnesh. So she swooped down on him like a sparrow-hawk; and when he was ware of her and knew her to be Maimouneh, daughter of the King of the Jinn, he feared her and his nerves trembled; and he implored her forbearance, saying, 'I conjure thee by the Most Great and August Name and by the most noble talisman graven upon the seal of Solomon, entreat me kindly and harm me not!' When she heard this, her heart inclined to him and she said, 'Verily, thou conjurest me with a mighty conjuration, O accursed one! Nevertheless, I will not let thee go, till thou tell me whence thou comest at this hour.' 'O princess,' answered he, 'know that I come from the uttermost end of the land of Cathay and from among the islands, and I will tell thee of a wonderful thing I have seen this night. If thou find my words true, let me go my way and write me a patent under thy hand that I am thy freedman, so none of the Jinn, whether of the air or the earth, divers or flyers,[FN#24] may do me let or hindrance.' 'And what is it thou hast seen this night, O liar, O accursed one?' rejoined Maimouneh. 'Tell me without leasing and think not to escape from my hand with lies, for I swear to thee by the inscription on the beazel of the ring of Solomon son of David (on whom be peace,) except thy speech be true, I will pluck out thy feathers with mine own hand and strip off thy skin and break thy bones.' 'I accept this condition, O my lady,' answered Dehnesh, son of Shemhourish the Flyer. 'Know that I come to-night from the Islands of the Inland Sea in the parts of Cathay, which are the dominions of King Ghaïour, lord of the Islands and the Seas and the Seven Palaces. There I saw a daughter of his, than whom God hath made none fairer in her time,—I cannot picture her to thee, for my tongue would fail to describe her aright; but I will name to thee somewhat of her charms, by way of approximation. Her hair is like the nights of estrangement and separation and her face like the days of union; and the poet hath well described her when he says:

She took up three locks of her hair and spread them out one night
     And straight four nights discovered at once unto my sight.
Then did she turn her visage up to the moon of the sky And showed
     me two moons at one season, both burning clear and bright.

She hath a nose like the point of the burnished sword and cheeks like purple wine or blood-red anemones: her lips are like coral and cornelian and the water of her mouth is sweeter than old wine, its taste would allay the torments of Hell. Her tongue is moved by abounding wit and ready repartee: her breast is a temptation to all that see it, glory be to Him who created it and finished it: and joined thereto are two smooth round arms. As says of her the poet El Welhan:

She hath two wrists, which, were they not by bracelets held, I trow, Would flow out of their sleeves as brooks of liquid silver flow.

She has breasts like two globes of ivory, the moons borrow from their brightness, and a belly dimpled as it were a brocaded cloth of the finest Egyptian linen, with creases like folded scrolls, leading to a waist slender past conception, over buttocks like a hill of sand, that force her to sit, when she would fain stand, and awaken her, when she would sleep, even as saith of her the poet:

Her slender waist a pair of buttocks overlies, The which both
     over her and me do tyrannize.
For they confound my wit, whenas I think on them, And eke enforce
     her sit, whenas she fain would rise.

They are upborne by smooth round thighs and legs like columns of pearl, and all this rests upon two slender feet, pointed like spear-blades, the handiwork of God, the Protector and Requiter, I wonder how, of their littleness, they can sustain what is above them. But I cut short my description of her charms, lest I be tedious. The father of this young lady is a powerful king, a fierce cavalier, immersed night and day in wars and battles, fearless of death and dreading not ruin, for that he is a masterful tyrant and an irresistible conqueror, lord of troops and armies, continents and islands, cities and villages, and his name is King Ghaïour, lord of the Islands and the Seas and of the Seven Palaces. He loves his daughter, the young lady whom I have described to thee, very dearly, and for love of her, he gathered together the treasures of all the kings and built her therewith seven palaces, each of a different fashion; the first of crystal, the second of marble, the third of China steel, the fourth of precious stones, the fifth of porcelain and vari-coloured onyx, the sixth of silver and the seventh of gold. He filled the seven palaces with rich silken carpets and hangings and vessels of gold and silver and all manner of gear befitting kings and commanded his daughter, whose name is the Princess Budour, to abide in each by turns for a certain season of the year. When her beauty became known and her fame was noised abroad in the neighbouring countries, all the kings sent to her father, to demand her in marriage, and he consulted her on the matter, but she misliked it and said, "O my father, I have no mind to marry; for I am a sovereign lady and a princess ruling over men, and I have no desire for a man who shall rule over me." The more she refused, the more the eagerness of her suitors increased and all the kings of the Islands of the Inland Sea sent gifts and offerings to her father, with letters asking her in marriage. So he pressed her again and again to make choice of a husband, despite her refusals, till at last she turned upon him angrily and said to him, "O my father, if thou name marriage to me again, I will go into my chamber and take a sword and fixing its hilt in the ground, set its point to my breast; then will I lean upon it, till it come forth from my back, and so kill myself." When the King heard this, the light became darkness in his sight and his heart was torn with anxiety and perplexity concerning her affair; for he feared lest she should kill herself and knew not how to deal with the kings who sought her hand. So he said to her, "If thou be irrevocably determined not to marry, abstain from going in and out." Then he shut her up in her chamber, appointing ten old body-women to guard her, and made as though he were wroth with her, forbidding her to go forth to the seven palaces; moreover, he sent letters to all the kings, giving them to know that she had been stricken with madness. It is now a year (continued Dehnesh) since she has been thus cloistered, and every night I go to her, whilst she is asleep, and take my fill of gazing on her face and kiss her between the eyes: yet, of my love to her, I do her no hurt neither swive her, for that her youth is fair and her loveliness surpassing; every one who sees is jealous for her of himself. I conjure thee, therefore, O my lady, to go back with me and look on her beauty and symmetry; and after, if thou wilt, chastise me or enslave me: for it is thine to command and to forbid.' So saying, he bowed his head towards the earth and drooped his wings; but Maimouneh laughed at his words and spitting in his face, answered, 'What is this girl of whom thou pratest but a potsherd to cleanse the privities withal? Faugh! Faugh! By Allah, O accursed one, I thought thou hadst some rare story to tell me or some marvel to make known to me! How would it be if thou sawest my beloved? Verily this night I have seen a young man whom if thou sawest though but in sleep, thou wouldst be palsied with admiration and thy mouth would water.' 'And who and what is this youth?' asked the Afrit. 'Know, O Dehnesh,' answered she, 'that there hath befallen him the like of what befell thy mistress; for his father pressed him again and again to marry, but he refused, till at length his father waxed wroth and imprisoned him in the tower where I dwell: and I came up to-night and saw him.' 'O my lady,' said Dehnesh, 'show me the youth, that I may see if he be indeed handsomer than my mistress, the Princess Budour, or not; for I cannot believe that there lives her equal.' 'Thou liest, O accursed one!' rejoined Maimouneh. 'O most ill-omened of Marids and vilest of Satans! Sure am I that there is not in this world the like of my beloved. Art thou mad to even thy beloved with mine?' 'I conjure thee by Allah, O my lady,' said Dehnesh, 'to go back with me and see my mistress, and after I will return with thee and look upon thy beloved.' 'It must needs be so, O accursed one!' answered she. 'Yet, for that thou art a knavish devil, I will not go with thee nor shalt thou come with me, save upon surety and condition of pledge. If thy beloved prove handsomer than mine, the pledge shall be thine against me; but if my beloved prove the fairer, the pledge shall be mine against thee.' 'O my lady,' said Dehnesh, 'I accept this thy condition; so come with me to the Islands.' 'Not so,' replied Maimouneh; 'for the abode of my beloved is nearer than that of thine: here it is under us; so come down with me and see my beloved, and after we will go look upon thy mistress.' 'I hear and obey,' said Dehnesh. So they descended and alighting on the tower, entered the saloon, where Maimouneh stationed Dehnesh beside the bed and putting out her hand, drew back the silken coverlet, whereupon Kemerezzeman's face shone out like the sun. She looked at him a moment, then turning to Dehnesh, said, ''Look, O accursed one, and be not the vilest of madmen; I am a maiden and am ravished with him.' So Dehnesh looked at the prince and gazed steadfastly on him awhile, then, shaking his head, said to Maimouneh, 'By Allah, O my lady, thou art excusable; but there is another thing to be considered, and that is that the female estate differs from the male. By the virtue of God, this thy beloved is the likest of all created things to my mistress in beauty and loveliness and grace and it is as though they were both cast alike in the mould of perfection!' When Maimouneh heard these words, the light in her sight became darkness and she dealt him so fierce a buffet on the head with her wing as well-nigh made an end of him. Then, 'I conjure thee,' said she, 'by the light of his glorious countenance, go at once, O accursed one, and bring hither thy mistress in haste that we may lay them together and look on them both, as they lie asleep side by side; so will it appear to us whether is the goodlier and more beautiful of the two. Except thou obey me forthright, I will dart my sparks at thee and consume thee with my fire; yea, I will rend thee in pieces and cast thee into the deserts, as an example to stay-at-home and wayfarer.' 'O my lady,' answered the Afrit, 'I will do thy bidding, for I know that my mistress is the fairer and sweeter.' So saying, he flew away and Maimouneh flew with him, to guard him. They were absent awhile and presently returned, bearing the young lady, who was clad in a shift of fine Venetian silk, laced with gold and wrought with the most exquisite broidery and having the following verses worked upon the ends of the sleeves:

Three things for ever hinder her to visit us, for fear Of the
     intriguing spy and eke the rancorous envier;
Her forehead's lustre and the sound of all her ornaments And the
     sweet scent her creases hold of ambergris and myrrh.
Grant with the border of her sleeve she hide her brows and doff
     Her ornaments, how shall she do her scent away from her?

They carried her into the saloon and laying her beside Kemerezzeman, uncovered both their faces, and behold, they were the likest of all folk, one to the other, as they were twins or an only brother and sister; and indeed they were a temptation to the pious, even as says of them the poet El Mubin:

Be not thy love, O heart, to one alone confined, Lest, for that
     one, amaze and doting thee enwind;
But love thou rather all the fair, and thou shalt find, If one
     contrarious prove, another will be kind.

And quoth another:

Two fair ones lying on the earth I did of late espy; Two that I needs must love, although they lay upon mine eye.

Dehnesh and Maimouneh gazed on them awhile, and the former said, 'By Allah, O my lady, it is good! My mistress is assuredly the fairer.' 'Not so,' answered she, 'my beloved is the fairer. Out on thee, O Dehnesh! Thou art blind of eye and heart and distinguishest not between good and bad.[FN#25] Wilt thou hide the truth? Dost thou not see his beauty and grace and symmetry? Out on thee, hear what I purpose to say in praise of my beloved, and do thou the like for her thou lovest, an thou be a true lover.' Then she kissed Kemerezzeman again and again between the eyes and repeated the following ode:

Ah me, what ails the censurer that he at thee should flite? How
     shall I be consoled for thee, and thou a sapling slight?
Thou of the black and languorous eye, that casteth far and wide
     Charms, whose sheer witchery compels to passion's utmost
     height,
Whose looks, with Turkish languor fraught, work havoc in the
     breast, Leaving such wounds as ne'er were made of falchion
     in the fight,
Thou layst on me a heavy load of passion and desire, On me that
     am too weak to bear a shift upon me dight.
My love for thee, as well thou know'st, my very nature is, And
     that for others which I feign dissembling but and sleight.
An if my heart were like to thine, I'd not refuse; alack! 'Tis
     but my body's like thy waist, worn thin and wasted quite.
Out on him for a moon that's famed for beauty far and near, That
     for th' exemplar of all grace men everywhere do cite!
The railers say, "Who's this for love of whom thou art
     distressed?" And I reply, "An if ye can, describe the lovely
     wight."
O learn to yield, hard heart of his, take pattern by his shape!
     So haply yet he may relent and put away despite.
Thou, that my prince in beauty art, a steward[FN#26] hast, whose
     rule Aggrieves me and a chamberlain[FN#27] that doth me foul
     upright.
He lies who says, "All loveliness in Joseph was comprised." How
     many a Joseph is there not within thy beauty bright!
The Jinn do fear me, whenas I confront them face to face; But
     when I meet with thee, my heart doth tremble for affright.
I feign aversion unto thee, for fear of slanderous tongues; The
     more I feign, the more my love to madness I excite.
Black hair and smooth and glistening brows, eyes languorous and
     soft, As of the maids of Paradise, and slender shape and
     slight!

When Dehnesh heard this, he shook for delight and was filled with admiration and said, 'Thou hast indeed done well in praise of him whom thou lovest! Needs must I do my endeavour, in my turn, to celebrate my mistress, to the best of my power, and recite somewhat in her honour.' Then he went up to the lady Budour and kissing her between the eyes, looked at her and at Maimouneh and recited the following verses, for all he had no skill in poetry:

They chide my passion for my fair in harsh and cruel guise; But,
     of their ignorance, forsooth, they're neither just nor wise.
Vouchsafe thy favours to the slave of love, for, an he taste Of
     thine estrangement and disdain, assuredly he dies.
Indeed, for very stress of love, I'm drenched with streaming
     tears, That, like a rivulet of blood, run ever from mine
     eyes.
No wonder 'tis what I for love endure; the wonder is That any,
     since the loss of thee, my body recognize.
Forbidden be thy sight to me, if I've a thought of doubt Or if my
     heart of passion tire or feign or use disguise!

And also the following:

I feed mine eyes on the places where we met long ago; Far distant
     now is the valley and I'm forslain for woe.
I'm drunk with the wine of passion and the teardrops in mine eyes
     Dance to the song of the leader of the camels, as we go.
I cease not from mine endeavour to win to fortune fair; Yet in
     Budour, Suada,[FN#28] all fortune is, I know.
Three things I reckon, I know not of which to most complain; Give
     ear whilst I recount them and be you judge, I trow.
Firstly, her eyes, the sworders; second, the spearman, her shape,
     And thirdly, her ringlets that clothe her in armour,[FN#29]
     row upon row.
Quoth she (and indeed I question, for tidings of her I love, All
     whom I meet, or townsman or Bedouin, high or low)
Quoth she unto me, "My dwelling is in thy heart; look there And
     thou shalt see me." I answer, "And where is my heart?
     Heigho!"

When Maimouneh heard this, she said, 'Thou hast done well, O Dehnesh! But tell me, which of the two is the handsomer?' And he answered, 'My mistress Budour is certainly handsomer than thy beloved.' 'Thou liest, O accursed one!' cried Maimouneh. 'Nay, my beloved is more beautiful than thine!' And they ceased not to gainsay each other, till Maimouneh cried out at Dehnesh and would have laid violent hands on him; but he humbled himself to her and softening his speech, said to her, 'Let us leave talking, for we do but contradict each other, and rather seek one who shall judge fairly between us, whether of the two is fairer, and let us abide by his sentence.' 'I agree to this,' answered she and smote the earth with her foot, whereupon there came up a one-eyed Afrit, hump-backed and scurvy, with eyes slit endlong in his face. On his head were seven horns and four locks of hair falling to his heels; his hands were like pitchforks, his legs like masts and he had claws like a lion and hoofs like those of the wild ass. When he saw Maimouneh, he kissed the earth before her and standing with his hands clasped behind him, said, 'What is thy will, O king's daughter?' 'O Keshkesh,' answered she, 'I would have thee judge between me and this accursed Dehnesh.' And she made known to him the whole matter, whereupon he looked at the prince and princess and saw them lying asleep, embraced, each with an arm about the other's neck, alike in beauty and grace and equal in goodliness. The Marid gazed long and fixedly upon them, marvelling at their beauty, and repeated the following verses:

Cleave fast to her thou lov'st and let the envious rail amain,
     For calumny and envy ne'er to favour love were fain.
Lo, the Compassionate hath made no fairer thing to see Than when
     one couch in its embrace enfoldeth lovers twain,
Each to the other's bosom clasped, clad in their own delight,
     Whilst hand with hand and arm with arm about their necks
     enchain.
If in thy time thou find but one to love thee and be true, I rede
     thee cast the world away and with that one remain.
Lo, when two hearts are straitly knit in passion and desire, But
     on cold iron smite the folk that chide at them in vain.
Thou that for loving censures the votaries of love, Canst thou
     assain a heart diseased or heal a cankered brain?
O Lord, O Thou Compassionate, I prithee, ere we die, Though only
     for a single day, unite us two again!

Then he turned to Maimouneh and Dehnesh and said to them, 'By Allah, if you will have the truth, they are equal in beauty and grace and perfection, nor is there any difference between them but that of sex. But I have another idea, and it is that we wake each of them in turn, without the other's knowledge, and whichever is more enamoured of the other shall be held the lesser in beauty and grace.' 'This is a good counsel,' answered Maimouneh, and Dehnesh said, 'I consent to this.' Then Dehnesh changed himself to a flea and bit Kemerezzeman on the neck, whereupon the prince awoke with a start and rubbed the place of the bite, because of the smart. Then turning sideways, he found lying by him something, whose breath was more fragrant than musk, and whose body was softer than cream. At this he marvelled greatly and sitting up, looked at this that lay beside him and saw it to be a young lady like the moon, as she were a splendid pearl, or a shining sun, five feet high, with a shape like the letter I, high-bosomed and rosy-checked; even as saith of her the poet:

Four things there are, which ne'er unite, except it be To shed my
     heart's best blood and take my soul by storm.
And these are night-black locks and brow as bright as day, Cheeks
     ruddy as the rose and straight and slender form.

And also quoth another:

She shineth forth, a moon, and bends, a willow-wand, And
     breathes, pure ambergris, and gazes, a gazelle.
It seems as if grief loved my heart and when from her
     Estrangement I endure, possession to it fell.

She was clad in a shift of Venetian silk, without drawers, and wore on her head a kerchief embroidered with gold and jewels; her ears were hung with earrings, that shone like stars, and round her neck was a collar of great pearls, past the competence of any king. When he saw this, his reason was confounded and natural heat began to stir in him; God awoke in him the desire of coition and he said, 'What God wills, shall be, and what He will not, shall not be!' So saying, he put out his hand and turning her over, loosed the collar of her shift, laying bare her bosom, with its breasts like globes of ivory; whereat his inclination for her redoubled and he desired her with an exceeding desire. Then he shook her and moved her, essaying to waken her and saying, 'O my beloved, awake and look on me; I am Kemerezzeman.' But she awoke not, neither moved her head, for Dehnesh made her sleep heavy. With this, he considered awhile and said to himself, 'If I guess aright, this is she to whom my father would have married me and I have refused these three years past; but, God willing, as soon as it is day, I will say to him, "Marry me to her that I may enjoy her," nor will I let half the day pass ere I possess her and take my fill of her beauty and grace.' Then he bent over Budour, to kiss her, whereat Maimouneh trembled and was confounded and Dehnesh was like to fly for joy. But, as Kemerezzeman was about to kiss her, he was ashamed before God and turned away his head, saying to his heart, 'Have patience.' Then he considered awhile and said, 'I will be patient, lest my father have brought this young lady and made her lie by my side, to try me with her, charging her not to be lightly awakened, whenas I would fain arouse her, and bidding her tell him all that I do to her. Belike, he is hidden somewhere whence he can see all I do with this young lady, himself unseen; and to-morrow he will flout me and say, "How comes it that thou feignest to have no mind to marry and yet didst kiss and clip yonder damsel?" So I will forbear her, lest I be shamed before my father; and it were well that I look not on her nor touch her at this present, except to take from her somewhat to serve as a sign of remembrance and a token between us.' Then he lifted her hand and took from her little finger a ring worth much money, for that its beazel was of precious jewels and around it were graven the following verses:

Think not that I have forgotten thy sometime promises, Though long
     thou hast protracted thy cruelty, ywis.
Be generous, O my master, vouchsafe me of thy grace, So it to me
     be given thy lips and cheeks to kiss.
Never, by Allah, never will I abandon thee, Though thou
     transgress thy limits in love and go amiss!

Then he put the ring on his own little finger, and turning his back to her, went to sleep. When Maimouneh saw this, she was glad and said, 'Saw ye how my beloved Kemerezzeman forbore this young lady? Verily, this was of the perfection of his excellences; for see how he looked on her and noted her beauty and grace, yet clipped her not neither kissed her nor put his hand to her, but turned his back to her and slept.' 'It is well,' answered they; 'we saw how perfectly he bore himself.' Then Maimouneh changed herself into a flea and entering Budour's clothes, crept up her leg and bit her four finger-breadths below the navel; whereupon she opened her eyes and sitting up in bed, saw a youth lying beside her and breathing heavily in his sleep, the loveliest of God's creatures, with eyes that put to shame the fair maids of Paradise, mouth like Solomon's seal, whose water was sweeter to the taste and more efficacious than triacle,[FN#30] lips the colour of coral and cheeks like blood-red anemones, even as saith one, describing him:

From Zeyneb[FN#31] and Newar[FN#32] my mind is drawn away By the
     rose of a cheek, whereo'er a whisker's myrtles stray.
I'm fallen in love with a fawn, a youngling tunic-clad, And joy
     no more in love of bracelet-wearing may.
My mate in banquet-hall and closet's all unlike To her with whom
     within my harem's close I play:
O thou that blames me, because I flee from Hind[FN#33] And
     Zeyneb, my excuse is clear as break of day.
Would'st have me be a slave, the bondsman of a slave, One
     cloistered and confined behind a wall alway?[FN#34]

When the princess saw him, a transport of passion and longing seized her and she said to herself, 'Alas my shame! This is a strange youth and I know him not. How comes he lying in one bed with me?' Then she looked at him again and noting his beauty and grace, said, 'By Allah, he is a comely youth and my heart is well-nigh torn in sunder with longing for him. But alas, how am I shamed by him! By Allah, had I known it was he who sought my hand of my father, I had not rejected him, but had married him and enjoyed his loveliness!' Then she gazed in his face and said, 'O my lord and light of mine eyes, awake from sleep and enjoy my beauty and grace.' And she moved him with her hand; but Maimouneh let down sleep upon him (as it were a curtain) and pressed on his head with her wings, so that he awoke not. The princess went on to shake him and say, 'My life on thee, give ear unto me! Awake and look on the narcissus and the tender green and enjoy my body and my secret charms and dally with me and touzle me from now till break of day! I conjure thee by Allah, O my lord, sit up and lean against the pillow and sleep not!' Still he made her no answer, but breathed heavily in his sleep. 'Alas! Alas!' continued she. 'Thou art proud in thy beauty and grace and lovely looks! But if thou art handsome, so am I; what then is this thou dost? Have they lessoned thee to flout me or has the wretched old man, my father, made thee swear not to speak to me to-night?' But he opened not his mouth neither awoke, whereat her passion redoubled and God inflamed her heart with love of him. She stole one glance at him that cost her a thousand sighs: her heart fluttered and her entrails yearned and she exclaimed, 'Speak to me, O my lord! O my friend, my beloved, answer me and tell me thy name, for indeed thou hast ravished my wit!' Still he abode drowned in sleep and answered her not a word, and she sighed and said, 'Alas! Alas! why art thou so self-satisfied?' Then she shook him and turning his hand over, saw her ring on his little finger, whereat she cried out and said, with a sigh of passion, 'Alack! Alack! By Allah, thou art my beloved and lovest me! Yet meseems thou turnest away from me out of coquetry, for all thou camest to me whilst I was asleep and knew not what thou didst, and tookest my ring. But I will not pull it off thy finger.' So saying, she opened the bosom of his shirt and kissed him and put her hand to him, seeking somewhat that she might take as a token, but found nothing. Then she put her hand into his breast, and for the smoothness of his body, it slipped down to his navel and thence to his yard, whereupon her heart ached and her entrails quivered and desire was sore upon her, for that women's lust is fiercer than that of men, and she was confounded. Then she took his ring from his finger and put it on her own and kissed his mouth and hands, nor did she leave any part of him unkissed; after which she took him to her breast and laying one of her hands under his neck and the other under his armpit, fell asleep by his side. Then said Maimouneh to Dehnesh, 'O accursed one, sawst thou how prudishly and coquettishly my beloved bore himself and what ardour of passion thy mistress showed to him? There can be no doubt that my beloved is handsomer than thine; nevertheless I pardon thee.' Then she wrote him a patent of manumission and said to Keshkesh, 'Help Dehnesh to take up his mistress and carry her back to her own place, for the night wanes apace and there is but little left of it.' 'I hear and obey,' answered Keshkesh. So the two Afrits lifted up the Princess Budour and flying away with her, carried her back to her own place and laid her on her bed, whilst Maimouneh abode alone with Kemerezzeman, gazing upon him as he slept, till the night was all but spent, when she went her way.

At break of day, the prince awoke from sleep and turned right and left, but found not the young lady by him and said in himself, 'What is this? It would seem as if my father would fain incline me to marriage with the young lady, that was with me, and have now taken her away by stealth, to the intent that my desire for marriage may redouble.' Then he called out to the eunuch who slept at the door, saying, 'Out on thee, O accursed one, arise forthright!' So the eunuch arose, dazed with sleep, and brought him basin and ewer, whereupon Kemerezzeman entered the draught-house and did his need; then, coming out, made his ablutions and prayed the morning-prayer, after which he sat telling his beads. Then he looked up, and seeing the eunuch standing waiting upon him, said to him, 'Out on thee, O Sewab! Who was it came hither and took away the young lady from beside me, whilst I slept?' 'O my lord, what young lady?' asked the eunuch. 'She that lay with me last night,' replied Kemerezzeman. The eunuch was troubled at his words and said to him, 'By Allah, there has been with thee neither young lady nor other! How should she have come in to thee, when the door was locked and I asleep before it? By Allah, O my lord, neither man nor woman has come in to thee!' 'Thou liest, O pestilent slave!' exclaimed the prince. 'Dost thou also presume to hoodwink me and wilt thou not tell me what is come of the young lady who lay with me last night and who took her away?' The eunuch was affrighted at him and answered, 'By Allah, O my lord, I have seen neither girl nor boy!' His words only angered Kemerezzeman and he said to him, 'O accursed one, my father hath taught thee deceit! Come hither.' So the eunuch came up to him, and the prince seized him by the collar and threw him to the ground. He let fly a crack of wind, and Kemerezzeman, kneeling upon him, kicked him and throttled him, till he fainted away. Then he tied him to the well-rope, and lowering him into the well, plunged him into the water, then drew him up and plunged him in again. Now it was hard winter weather, and Kemerezzeman ceased not to lower the eunuch into the water and pull him up again, whilst he screamed and called for help. Quoth the prince, 'By Allah, O accursed one, I will not draw thee up out of the well, till thou tell me the story of the young lady and who it was took her away, whilst I slept.' 'O my lord,' answered the eunuch, seeing death staring him in the face, 'let me go and I will tell thee the truth.' So Kemerezzeman pulled him up out of the well, all but dead for cold and wet and torture and beating and fear of drowning. His teeth chattered and he shook like the reed in the hurricane and his clothes were drenched and his body befouled and torn by the rough slimy sides of the well. When Kemerezzeman saw him in this sorry plight, he relented towards him; and as soon as the eunuch found himself on dry land, he said to him, 'O my lord, let me go and put off my clothes and wring them out and spread them in the sun to dry and don others; after which I will return to thee forthwith and tell thee the truth of the matter.' 'O wretched slave,' answered the prince, 'hadst thou not seen death face to face, thou hadst never confessed; but go now and do thy will, and after return speedily and tell me the truth.' So the eunuch went out, hardly crediting his escape, and gave not over running and stumbling, in his haste, till he came in to King Shehriman, whom he found sitting talking with his Vizier of Kemerezzeman's case and saying, 'I slept not last night, for anxiety concerning my son Kemerezzeman, and indeed I fear lest some harm befall him in that old tower. What good was there in imprisoning him?' 'Have no care for him,' answered the Vizier. 'By Allah, no hurt will befall him! Leave him in prison for a month, till his humour yield and his spirit be broken and he return to his senses.' As he spoke, in came the eunuch, in the aforesaid plight, and said to the King, who was troubled at sight of him, 'O our lord the Sultan, thy son's wits are fled and he has gone mad; he has dealt with me thus and thus, so that I am become as thou seest, and says, "A young lady lay with me this night and stole away whilst I slept. Where is she?" And insists on my telling him where she is and who took her away. But I have seen neither girl nor boy; the door was locked all night, for I slept before it, with the key under my head, and opened to him in the morning with my own hand.' When the King heard this, he cried out, saying, 'Alas, my son!' And he was sore enraged against the Vizier, who had been the cause of all this, and said to him, 'Go, bring me news of my son and see what hath befallen his wit.' So the Vizier rose and hastened with the slave to the tower, tumbling over his skirts, in his fear of the King's anger. The sun had now risen and when he came in to Kemerezzeman, he found him sitting on the couch, reading the Koran; so he saluted him and sitting down by his side, said to him, 'O my lord, this wretched slave brought us news that disquieted and alarmed us and incensed the King.' 'And what,' asked Kemerezzeman, 'hath he told you of me, to trouble my father? In good sooth, he hath troubled none but me.' 'He came to us in a sorry plight,' answered the Vizier, 'and told us of thee a thing which God forfend and a lie which it befits not to repeat, may God preserve thy youth and sound wit and eloquent tongue and forbid aught of foul to come from thee!' 'O Vizier,' said the prince, 'what did this pestilent slave say of me?' 'He told us,' replied the Vizier, 'thou hadst taken leave of thy wits and would have it that a young lady lay with thee last night and wast instant with him to tell thee whither she had gone and didst torture him to that end.' When Kemerezzeman heard this, he was sore enraged and said to the Vizier, 'It is manifest to me that you taught the eunuch to do as he did and forbade him to tell me what became of the young lady. But thou, O Vizier, art more reasonable than the eunuch; so do thou tell me forthright whither went the young lady that lay in my bosom last night; for it was you who sent her and bade her sleep in my arms, and we lay together till day; but when I awoke, I found her not. So where is she now?' 'O my lord Kemerezzeman,' said the Vizier, 'the name of God encompass thee! By Allah, we sent none to thee last night, but thou layest alone, with the door locked on thee and the eunuch sleeping before it, nor did there come to thee a young lady or any other. Stablish thy reason, O my lord, and return to thy senses and occupy thy mind no longer [with vain imaginations].' 'O Vizier,' rejoined Kemerezzeman, incensed at his words, 'the young lady in question is my beloved, the fair one with the black eyes and red cheeks, whom I held in my arms all last night.' The Vizier wondered at his words and said to him, 'Didst thou see this damsel with thine eyes and on wake, or in sleep?' 'O wretched old man,' answered Kemerezzeman, 'thinkest thou I saw her with my ears? Indeed, I saw her with my very eyes and on wake and touched her with my hand and watched by her half the night, gazing my fill on her beauty and grace and elegance and lovely looks. But thou hadst schooled her and charged her to speak no word to me; so she feigned sleep and I lay by her side till morning, when I awoke and found her gone.' 'O my lord Kemerezzeman,' rejoined the Vizier, 'surely thou sawest this in thy sleep; it must have been a delusion of dreams or a hallucination caused by eating various kinds of food or a suggestion of the accursed devils.' 'O pestilent old man,' cried the prince, 'wilt thou too make a mock of me and tell me this was an illusion of dreams, when this eunuch confessed to the young lady, saying, "I will return to thee forthwith and tell thee all about her?"' So saying, he sprang up and laying hold of the Vizier's long beard, twisted his hand in it and tugging him off the couch, threw him on the floor. It seemed to the Vizier as though his soul departed his body for the violent plucking at his beard, and Kemerezzeman fell to kicking him and pummelling his breast and sides and cuffing him on the nape, till he had well-nigh made an end of him. Then said the Vizier in himself, 'I must save myself from this madman by telling him a lie, even as did the eunuch; else he will kill me, for he is mad beyond a doubt.' So he said to Kemerezzeman, 'O my lord, bear me not malice, for indeed thy father charged me to conceal from thee this affair of the young lady; but now I am weak and weary and sore with beating; for I am an old man and lack strength to endure blows. So have a little patience with me and I will tell thee all.' When the prince heard this, he left beating him and said, 'Why couldst thou not tell me without blows and humiliation? Rise now, unlucky old man that thou art, and tell me her story.' Quoth the Vizier, 'Dost thou ask of the young lady with the fair face and perfect shape?' 'Yes,' answered Kemerezzeman. 'Tell me who it was laid her by my side and took her away by night, and let me know whither she is gone, that I may go to her. If my father did this to try me, with a view to our marriage, I consent to marry her and be quit of this trouble; for he only dealt thus with me, because I refused to marry. I say again, I consent to marry: so tell this to my father, O Vizier, and advise him to marry me to her, for I will have none other and my heart loveth her alone. Go now to my father and counsel him to hasten our marriage and bring me his answer forthright.' 'It is well,' rejoined the Vizier, and went out from him, hardly crediting his escape. Then he set off running and stumbling as he went, for excess of affright and agitation, till he came in to the King, who said to him, 'O Vizier, what has befallen thee and who has maltreated thee and how comes it that I see thee thus confounded and terrified?' 'O King,' answered the Vizier, 'I bring thee news.' 'What is it?' asked Shehriman, and the Vizier said, 'Know that thy son Kemerezzeman's wits are gone and that madness hath betided him.' When the King heard this, the light in his face became darkness and he said, 'Expound to me the nature of my son's madness.' 'O my lord,' answered the Vizier, 'I hear and obey.' Then he told him all that had passed and the King said to him, 'O most ill-omened of Viziers and filthiest of Amirs, know that the reward I will give thee in return for this thy news of my son's madness shall be the cutting off of thy bead and the forfeiture of thy goods; for thou hast caused my son's disorder by the wicked and sinister counsel thou hast given me first and last. By Allah, if aught of mischief or madness have befallen him, I will nail thee upon the dome [of the palace] and make thee taste the bitterness of death!' Then rising, he betook himself with the Vizier to the tower, and when Kemerezzeman saw him, he came down to him in haste from the couch on which he sat and kissing his hands, drew back and stood before him awhile, with his eyes cast down and his hands clasped behind him. Then he raised his head and repeated the following verses, whilst the tears streamed down his cheeks:

If I have borne myself blameworthily to you Or if I've made
     default in that which is your due,
I do repent my fault; so let your clemency Th' offender
     comprehend, who doth for pardon sue.

When the King heard this, he embraced his son and kissing him between the eyes, made him sit by his side on the couch; then turned to the Vizier and looking on him with angry eyes, said to him, 'O dog of a Vizier, why didst thou tell me that my son was mad and make my heart quake for him?' Then he turned to the prince and said to him, 'O my son, what is to-day called?' 'O my father,' answered he, 'to-day is Saturday and to-morrow Sunday: then come Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.' 'O my son, O Kemerezzeman,' exclaimed the King, 'praised be God for the preservation of thy reason! What is this present month called in Arabic?'

'Dhoulcaadeh,' answered Kemerezzeman, 'and it is followed by Dhoulhejjeh; then comes Muherrem, then Sefer, then Rebia the First and Rebia the Second, the two Jumadas, Rejeb, Shaaban, Ramazan and Shewwal.' At this the King rejoiced exceedingly and spat in the Vizier's face, saying, 'O wicked old man, how canst thou pretend that my son is mad? None is mad but thou.' The Vizier shook his head and would have spoken, but bethought himself to wait awhile and see what befell. Then the King said to Kemerezzeman, 'O my son, what is this thou sayest to the eunuch and the Vizier of a fair damsel that lay with thee last night? What damsel is this of whom thou speakest?' Kemerezzeman laughed at his father's words and replied, 'O my father, I can bear no more jesting; so mock me not with another word, for my humour is soured by that you have done with me. Let it suffice thee to know that I consent to marry, but on condition that thou give me to wife her with whom I lay yesternight; for I am assured that it was thou sentest her to me and madest me in love with her, then tookest her away from beside me before the dawn.' 'O my son,' rejoined the King, 'the name of God encompass thee and preserve thy wit from madness! What young lady is this of whom thou talkest? By Allah, O my son, I know nothing of the affair, and I conjure thee, tell me if it be a delusion of sleep or a hallucination caused by food? Doubtless, thou layest down to sleep last night, with thy mind occupied with marriage and troubled with the thought of it (may God curse marriage and the hour in which it occurred to me and him who counselled it!) and dreamtest that a handsome young lady embraced thee and didst fancy thou sawst her on wake; but all this, O my son, is but an illusion of dreams.' 'Leave this talk,' replied Kemerezzeman, 'and swear to me by God, the All-wise Creator, the Humbler of the mighty and the Destroyer of the Chosroës, that thou knowest nothing of the young lady nor of her abiding-place.' 'By the virtue of the Most High God,' said the King, 'the God of Moses and Abraham, I know nothing of all this and it is assuredly but an illusion of dreams that thou hast seen in sleep.' Quoth the prince, 'I will give thee a proof that it was not a dream. Come, let me put a case to thee: did it ever happen to any to dream that he was fighting a sore battle and after to awake and find in his hand a sword besmeared with blood?' 'No, by Allah, O my son,' answered the King, 'this hath never been.' 'I will tell thee what happened to me,' rejoined Kemerezzeman. 'Meseemed I awoke from sleep in the middle of the past night and found a young lady lying by my side, whose shape and favour were as mine. I embraced her and turned her about with my hand and took her ring, which I put on my finger, and she pulled off my ring and put it on her finger. Then I went to sleep by her side, but refrained from her and was ashamed to kiss her on the mouth, deeming that thou hadst sent her to me, with intent to tempt me with her and incline me to marriage, and misdoubting thee to be hidden somewhere whence thou couldst see what I did with her. At point of day, I awoke and found no trace of her, nor could I come at any news of her, and there befell me what thou knowest of with the eunuch and the Vizier. How then can this have been a dream and a delusion, seeing that the ring is a reality? I should indeed have deemed it a dream but for her ring on my finger. Here it is: look at it, O King, and see what is its worth.' So saying, he handed the ring to his father, who examined it and turned it over, then said to his son, 'Verily, there hangs some mighty mystery by this ring and some strange secret. What befell thee last night is indeed a mysterious affair and I know not how this intruder came in upon us. None is the cause of all this trouble save the Vizier; but I conjure thee, O my son, to take patience, so haply God may do away this affliction from thee and bring thee complete relief: as quoth one of the poets:

It may be Fate at last shall draw its bridle-rein And bring us
     happy chance; for Fortune changes still;
And things shall happen yet, despite the things fordone, To
     further forth my hopes and bring me to my will.

And now, O my son,' added he, 'I am certified that thou art not mad; but thy case is a strange one, none can unravel it for thee but God the Most High.' 'By Allah, O my father,' cried the prince, 'deal kindly with me and seek out this damsel and hasten her coming to me; else I shall die of grief.' And he repeated the following verses, in a voice that betrayed the ardour of his passion:

An if thy very promise of union prove untrue, Let but in sleep
     thy favours the longing lover cheer.
"How can the phantom visit a lover's eyes," quoth they, "From
     which the grace of slumber is banned and banished sheer?"

And he sighed and wept and groaned aloud from a wounded heart, whilst the tears streamed from his eyes. Then turning to his father, with submission and despondency, he said to him, 'By Allah, O my father, I cannot endure to be parted from her even for an hour.' The King smote hand upon hand and exclaimed, 'There is no power and no virtue but in God, the Most High, the Sublime! There is no device can profit us in this affair!' Then he took his son by the hand and carried him to the palace, where Kemerezzeman lay down on the bed of languor and the King sat at his head, weeping and mourning over him and leaving him not night or day, till at last the Vizier came in to him and said, 'O King of the age and the time, how long wilt thou remain shut up with thy son and deny thyself to thy troops? Verily, the order of thy realm is like to be deranged, by reason of thine absence from thy grandees and officers of state. It behoves the man of understanding, if he have various wounds in his body, to apply him (first) to heal the most dangerous; so it is my counsel to thee that thou transport the prince to the pavilion overlooking the sea and shut thyself up with him there, setting apart Monday and Thursday in every week for state receptions and the transaction of public business. On these days let thine Amirs and Viziers and Chamberlains and deputies and captains and grandees and the rest of the troops and subjects have access to thee and submit their affairs to thee, and do thou their needs and judge between them and give and take with them and command and forbid. The rest of the week thou shalt pass with thy son Kemerezzeman, and thus do till God vouchsafe you both relief. Think not, O King, that thou art exempt from the shifts of fortune and the strokes of calamity; for the wise man is still on his guard, as well saith the poet:

Thou madest fair thy thought of Fate, whenas the days were fair,
     And fearedst not the unknown ills that they to thee might
     bring.
The nights were fair and calm to thee; thou wast deceived by
     them, For in the peace of night is born full many a
     troublous thing.
O all ye children of mankind, to whom the Fates are kind, Let
     caution ever have a part in all your reckoning.'

The King was struck with the Vizier's words and deemed his counsel wise and timely, fearing lest the order of the state be deranged; so he rose at once and bade carry his son to the pavilion in question, which was built (upon a rock) midmost the water and was approached by a causeway, twenty cubits wide. It had windows on all sides, overlooking the sea; its floor was of variegated marble and its roof was painted in the richest colours and decorated with gold and lapis-lazuli. They furnished it for Kemerezzeman with embroidered rugs and carpets of the richest silk and hung the walls with choice brocades and curtains bespangled with jewels. In the midst they set him a couch of juniper-wood, inlaid with pearls and jewels, and he sat down thereon, like a man that had been sick twenty years; for the excess of his concern and passion for the young lady had wasted his charms and emaciated his body, and he could neither eat nor drink nor sleep. His father seated himself at his head, mourning sore for him, and every Monday and Thursday he gave his Viziers and Amirs and grandees and officers and the rest of his subjects leave to come in to him in the pavilion. So they entered and did their several service and abode with him till the end of the day, when they went their ways and he returned to his son, whom he left not night nor day; and on this wise did he many days and nights.

To return to the Princess Budour. When the two Afrits carried her back to her palace and laid her on her bed, she slept on till daybreak, when she awoke and sitting up, looked right and left, but saw not the youth who had lain in her bosom. At this, her heart was troubled, her reason fled and she gave a great cry, whereupon all her damsels and nurses and serving-women awoke and came in to her; and the chief of them said to her, 'What ails thee, O my lady?' 'O wretched old woman,' answered the princess, 'where is my beloved, the handsome youth that lay last night in my bosom? Tell me where he is gone.' When the old woman heard this, the light in her eyes became darkness and she was sore in fear of her mischief and said to her, 'O my lady Budour, what unseemly words are these?' 'Out on thee, pestilent crone that thou art!' cried the princess. 'Where is my beloved, the goodly youth with the shining face and the slender shape, the black eyes and the joined eyebrows, who lay with me last night from dusk until near daybreak?' 'By Allah, O my lady,' replied the old woman, 'I have seen no young man nor any other; but I conjure thee, leave this unseemly jesting, lest we be all undone. Belike, it may come to thy father's ears and who shall deliver us from his hand?' 'I tell thee,' rejoined Budour, 'there lay a youth with me last night, one of the fairest-faced of men.' 'God preserve thy reason!' exclaimed the nurse. 'Indeed, no one lay with thee last night.' The princess looked at her hand and seeing her own ring gone and Kemerezzeman's ring on her finger in its stead, said to the nurse, 'Out on thee, thou accursed traitress, wilt thou lie to me and tell me that none lay with me last night and forswear thyself to me?' 'By Allah,' replied the nurse, 'I do not lie to thee nor have I sworn falsely!' Her words incensed the princess and drawing a sword she had by her, she smote the old woman with it and slew her; whereupon the eunuch and the waiting-women cried out at her and running to her father, acquainted him with her case. So he went to her forthright and said to her, 'O my daughter, what ails thee?' 'O my father,' answered she, 'where is the young man that lay with me last night?' Then her reason left her and she cast her eyes right and left and rent her dress even to the skirt. When the King saw this, he bade the women lay hands on her; so they seized and bound her, then putting a chain of iron about her neck, made her fast to the window and there left her. As for her father, the world was straitened upon him, when he saw what had befallen her, for that he loved her and her case was not a little thing to him. So he summoned the doctors and astrologers and magicians and said to them, 'Whoso cureth my daughter of her disorder, I will marry him to her and give him half my kingdom; but whoso cometh to her and cureth her not, I will strike off his head and hang it over her palace-gate.' Accordingly, all who went in to her, but failed to cure her, he beheaded and hung their heads over her palace-gate, till he had beheaded forty physicians and crucified as many astrologers on her account; wherefore all the folk held aloof from her, for all the physicians failed to cure her malady and her case was a puzzle to the men of science and the magicians. And as her longing and passion redoubled and love and distraction were sore upon her, she poured forth tears and repeated the following verses:

My longing after thee, my moon, my foeman is; The thought of thee
     by night doth comrade with me dwell.
I pass the darksome hours, and in my bosom flames A fire, for
     heat that's like the very fire of hell.
I'm smitten with excess of ardour and desire; By which my pain is
     grown an anguish fierce and fell.

Then she sighed and repeated these also:

My peace on the belovéd ones, where'er they light them down! I
     weary for the neighbourhood of those I love, full sore.
My salutation unto you,—not that of taking leave, But greetings
     of abundant peace, increasing evermore!
For, of a truth, I love you dear and love your land no less; But
     woe is me! I'm far away from that I weary for.

Then she wept till her eyes grew weak and her cheeks pale and withered: and thus she abode three years. Now she had a foster-brother, by name Merzewan, who was absent from her all this time, travelling in far countries. He loved her with an exceeding love, passing that of brothers; so when he came back, he went in to his mother and asked for his foster-sister the princess Budour. 'Alas, my son,' answered she, 'thy sister has been smitten with madness and has passed these three years, with an iron chain about her neck; and all the physicians and men of science have failed of curing her.' When he heard this, he said, 'I must needs go in to her; peradventure I may discover what ails her, and be able to cure her.' 'So be it,' replied his mother; 'but wait till to-morrow, that I may make shift for thee.' Then she went to the princess's palace and accosting the eunuch in charge of the door, made him a present and said to him, 'I have a married daughter, who was brought up with thy mistress and is sore concerned for what has befallen her, and I desire of thy favour that my daughter may go in to her and look on her awhile, then return whence she came, and none shall know it.' 'This may not be, except by night,' replied the eunuch, 'after the King has visited the princess and gone away; then come thou and thy daughter.' She kissed the eunuch's hand and returning home, waited till the morrow at nightfall, when she dressed her son in woman's apparel and taking him by the hand, carried him to the palace. When the eunuch saw her, he said, 'Enter, but do not tarry long.' So they went in and when Merzewan saw the princess in the aforesaid plight, he saluted her, after his mother had taken off his woman's attire: then pulling out the books he had brought with him and lighting a candle, he began to recite certain conjurations. The princess looked at him and knowing him, said to him, 'O my brother, thou hast been absent on thy travels and we have been cut off from news of thee.' 'True,' answered he; 'but God has brought me back in safety and I am now minded to set out again; nor has aught delayed me but the sad news I hear of thee; wherefore my heart ached for thee and I came to thee, so haply I may rid thee of thy malady.' 'O my brother,' rejoined she, 'thinkest thou it is madness ails me?' 'Yes,' answered he, and she said, 'Not so, by Allah! It is even as says the poet:

Quoth they, "Thou'rt surely mad for him thou lov'st;" and I
     replied, "Indeed the sweets of life belong unto the raving
     race.
Lo, those who love have not, for that, the upper hand of fate;
     Only the madman 'tis, I trow, o'ercometh time and space.
Yes, I am mad; so bring me him for whom ye say I'm mad; And if he
     heal my madness, spare to blame me for my case."'

Then she told him that she was in love, and he said, 'Tell me thy story and what befell thee: peradventure God may discover to me a means of deliverance for thee.' 'Know then,' said she, 'that one night I awoke from sleep, in the last watch of the night, and sitting up, saw by my side the handsomest of youths, as he were a willow-wand or an Indian cane, the tongue fails to describe him. Me-thought this was my father's doing to try me, for that he had consulted me, when the kings sought me of him in marriage, and I had refused. It was this idea that withheld me from arousing him, for I thought that if I did aught or embraced him, he would most like tell my father. When I awoke in the morning, I found his ring on my finger in place of my own, which he had taken; and, O my brother, my heart was taken with him at first sight; and for the violence of my passion and longing, I have never since known the taste of sleep and have no occupation save weeping and repeating verses night and day. This, then, O my brother, is the story of the cause of my (pretended) madness.' Then she poured forth tears and repeated the following verses:

Love has banished afar my delight; they are fled With a fawn that
     hath hearts for a pasturing-stead.
To him lovers' blood is a trifle, for whom My soul is a-wasting
     for passion and dread.
I'm jealous for him of my sight and my thought; My heart is a spy
     on my eyes and my head.
His eyelashes dart at us death-dealing shafts; The hearts that
     they light on are ruined and dead.
Whilst yet there is left me a share in the world, Shall I see
     him, I wonder, or ever I'm sped?
I fain would conceal what I suffer for him; 'Tis shown to the spy
     by the tears that I shed.
When near, his enjoyment is distant from me: But his image is
     near, when afar he doth tread.

'See then, O my brother,' added she, 'how thou mayest aid me in this my affliction.' Merzewan bowed his head awhile, marvelling and knowing not what to do, then raised it and said to her, 'I believe all thou hast said to be true, though the case of the young man passes my imagination: but I will go round about all countries and seek for what may heal thee; peradventure God shall appoint thy deliverance to be at my hand. Meanwhile, take patience and be not disquieted.' So saying, he took leave of her, after he had prayed that she might be vouchsafed constancy, and left her repeating the following verses:

Thine image in my thoughts fares as a pilgrim aye, For all thy
     stead and mine are distant many a day.
The wishes of my heart do bring thee near to me For 'gainst the
     speed of thought what is the levin's ray?
Depart thou not, that art the lustre of mine eyes; Yea, when
     thou'rt far removed, all void of light are they.

He returned to his mother's house, where he passed the night, and on the morrow, after furnishing himself for his journey, he set out and travelled from city to city and from island to island for a whole month. Everywhere he heard talk of the princess Budour's madness, till he came to a city named Teyreb and seeking news of the townsfolk, so haply he might light on a cure for his foster-sister's malady, heard that Kemerezzeman, son of King Shehriman, was fallen sick and afflicted with melancholy madness. He enquired the name of this prince's capital and was told that it stood on the Islands of Khalidan and was distant thence a whole month's journey by sea and six by land. So he took passage in a ship that was bound thither, and they sailed with a favouring breeze for a whole month, till they came in sight of the city and there remained for them but to enter the harbour; when there came out on them a tempestuous wind which carried away the masts and rent the canvas, so that the sails fell into the sea and the ship foundered, with all on board. Each looked to himself, and as for Merzewan, the current carried him under the King's palace, wherein was Kemerezzeman. As fate would have it, it was the day on which the King gave audience to his grandees and officers, and he was sitting, with his son's head in his lap, whilst an eunuch whisked away the flies. The prince had not spoken, neither had he eaten nor drunk for two days, and he was grown thinner than a spindle. Now the Vizier was standing near the window giving on the sea and raising his eyes, saw Merzewan at the last gasp for struggling with the waves; whereupon his heart was moved to pity for him and he drew near to the King and said to him, 'O King, I crave thy leave to go down to the court of the pavilion and open the water-gate, that I may rescue a man who is at the point of drowning in the sea and bring him forth of peril into deliverance; peradventure, on this account, God may ease thy son of his affliction.' 'O Vizier,' replied Shehriman, enough is that which has befallen my son through thee and on thine account. Belike, if thou rescue this drowning man, he will look on my son and come to know our affairs and exult over me; but I swear by Allah, that, if he come hither and see my son and after go out and speak of our secrets to any, I will assuredly strike off thy head before his; for thou art the cause of all that hath befallen us, first and last. Now do as thou wilt.' The Vizier rose and opening the postern, descended to the causeway; then walked on twenty steps and came to the sea, where he saw Merzewan nigh unto death. So he put out his hand to him and catching him by the hair of his head, drew him ashore, in a state of unconsciousness, with belly full of water and eyes starting from his head. The Vizier waited till he came to himself, when he pulled off his wet clothes and clad him in a fresh suit, covering his head with one of his servants' turbans; after which he said to him, 'I have been the means of saving thee from drowning: do not thou requite me by causing my death and thine own.' 'How so?' asked Merzewan; and the Vizier answered, 'Thou art now about to go up and pass among Amirs and Viziers, all silent and speaking not, because of Kemerezzeman, the King's son.' When Merzewan heard the name of Kemerezzeman, he knew that this was he of whom he came in search, but he feigned ignorance and said to the Vizier, 'And who is Kemerezzeman?' Quoth the Vizier, 'He is the King's son and lies sick on his couch, restless, eating not nor drinking neither sleeping night nor day; indeed he is nigh upon death and we have lost hope of his recovery. Beware lest thou look too long on him or on any place other than that where thou settest thy feet: else thou art a lost man and I also.' 'O Vizier,' said Merzewan, 'I conjure thee by Allah, tell me of thy favour, the cause of this youth's malady.' 'I know none,' answered the Vizier, 'save that, three years ago, his father pressed him to marry, but he refused; whereat the King was wroth and imprisoned him. On the morrow, he would have it that he had had, for a bedfellow, the night before, a young lady of surpassing beauty, beggaring description, with whom he had exchanged rings; but we know not the meaning of all this. So by Allah, O my son, when thou comest up into the palace, look not on the prince, but go thy way; for the King's heart is full of anger against me.' 'By Allah,' said Merzewan in himself, 'this is he whom I sought!' Then he followed the Vizier up to the palace, where the latter seated himself at the prince's feet; but Merzewan must needs go up to Kemerezzeman and stand before him, gazing on him. At this, the Vizier was like to die of affright and signed to Merzewan to go his way; but he feigned not to see him and gave not over gazing upon Kemerezzeman, till he was assured that it was indeed he of whom he was in search. Then, 'Glory be to God,' cried he, 'who hath made his shape even as her shape and his complexion as her complexion and his cheek as her cheek!' At this Kemerezzeman opened his eyes and gave ear to his speech; and when Merzewan saw him listening, he repeated the following verses:

I see thee full of song and plaint and ecstasy amain, And to the
     setting forth in words of charms I find thee fain.
Can it be love hath wounded thee or art thou shot with shafts?
     For sure these fashions but belong unto a smitten swain.
Ho, pour me out full cups of wine and sing me eke, in praise Of
     Tenam, Suleyma, Rebäb,[FN#35] a glad and lovesome strain!
Yea, let the grape-vine's sun[FN#36] go round, whose mansion is
     its jar, Whose East the cupbearer and West my thirsty mouth
     I feign.
I'm jealous of the very clothes she dights upon her side, For
     that upon her body soft and delicate they've lain;
And eke I'm envious of the cups that touch her dainty lips, When
     to the kissing-place she sets them ever and again.
Think not that I in anywise with sword am done to death; 'Tis by
     the arrows of a glance, alack! that I am slain.
Whenas we met again, I found her fingers dyed with red, As 'twere
     the juice of tragacanth had steeped them in its stain.
Said I to her, "Thou'st dyed thy palms,[FN#37] whilst I was far
     away. This then is how the slave of love is 'quited for his
     pain."
Quoth she (and cast into my heart the flaming fires of love,
     Speaking as one who hath no care love's secret to contain),
"No, by thy life, this is no dye I've used! So haste thou not To
     heap accusings on my head and slander me in vain.
For, when I saw thee get thee gone upon our parting day, My eyes,
     for very dreariment, with tears of blood did rain.
I wiped them with my hand, and so my fingers with my blood Were
     all to-reddened and do yet their ruddy tint retain."
Had I for very passion wept, or e'er my mistress did, I should,
     before repentance came, have solaced heart and brain;
But she before my weeping wept; her tears drew mine and so Quoth
     I, "Unto the precedent the merit doth pertain."
Chide not at me for loving her, for by Love's self I swear, My
     heart with anguish for her sake is well-nigh cleft in twain.
I weep for one whose face is decked by Beauty's self; there's
     none, Arab or foreigner, to match with her, in hill or
     plain.
The lore of Locman[FN#38] hath my love and Mary's chastity, with
     Joseph's loveliness to boot and David's songful vein;
Whilst Jacob's grief to me belongs and Jonah's dreariment, Ay,
     and Job's torment and despite and Adam's plight of bane.
Slay ye her not, although I die for love of her, but ask, How
     came it lawful unto her to shed my blood in vain.

When Kemerezzeman heard these verses, they brought refreshment and healing to his heart, and he sighed and turning his tongue in his mouth, said to the King, 'O my father, let this young man come and sit by my side.' The King, hearing these words from his son, rejoiced exceedingly, though at the first he had been wroth with Merzewan and thought in himself to have stricken off his head: but when he heard Kemerezzeman speak, his anger left him and he arose and drawing Merzewan to him, made him sit down by his son and said to him, 'Praised be God for thy safety!' 'May God bless thee,' answered Merzewan, 'and preserve thy son to thee!' Then said the King, 'From what country comest thou?' 'From the Islands of the Inland Sea,' replied he, 'the kingdom of King Ghaïour, lord of the Islands and the seas and the Seven Palaces.' Quoth the King, 'Maybe thy coming shall be blessed to my son and God vouchsafe to heal him of his malady.' 'God willing,' rejoined Merzewan, 'all shall yet be well.' Then turning to Kemerezzeman, he said to him in his ear, unheard of the King and his court, 'Be of good cheer, O my lord, and take heart and courage. As for her for whose sake thou art thus, ask not of her condition on thine account. Thou keptest thy secret and fellest sick, but she discovered hers and they said she was mad; and she is now in prison, with an iron chain about her neck, in most piteous case; but, God willing, the healing of both of you shall be at my hand.' When Kemerezzeman heard this, his life returned to him and he took heart and courage and signed to his father to help him sit up; at which the King was like to lose his reason for joy and lifting him up, set two pillows for him to lean upon. Then, of his fear for his son, he shook the handkerchief of dismissal and all the Amirs and Viziers withdrew; after which he bade perfume the palace with saffron and decorate the city, saying to Merzewan, 'By Allah, O my son, thou hast a lucky and a blessed aspect!' And he made much of him and called for food, which when they brought, Merzewan said to the prince, 'Come, eat with me.' So he obeyed him and ate with him, while the King called down blessings on Merzewan and said, 'How auspicious is thy coming, O my son!' When he saw Kemerezzeman eat, his joy redoubled and he went out and told the prince's mother and the people of the palace. Then he let call abroad the good news of the prince's recovery and proclaimed the decoration of the city: so the people rejoiced and decorated the city and it was a day of high festival. Merzewan passed the night with Kemerezzeman, and the King also slept with them, in the excess of his joy for his son's recovery. Next morning, when the King had gone away and the two young men were left alone, Kemerezzeman told Merzewan his story from first to last and the latter said to him, 'I know her with whom thou didst foregather; her name is the princess Budour and she is daughter to King Ghaïour.' Then he told him all that had befallen the princess and acquainted him with the excessive love she bore him, saying, 'All that befell thee with thy father hath befallen her with hers, and thou art without doubt her beloved, even as she is thine; so brace up thy resolution and take heart, for I will bring thee to her and unite you both anon and deal with you even as saith the poet:

Though to the lover adverse be the fair And drive him with her
     rigours to despair,
Yet will I soon unite them, even as I The pivot of a pair of
     scissors were.

And he went on to comfort and hearten Kemerezzeman and urged him to eat and drink, cheering him and diverting him with talk and song and stories, till he ate food and drank wine and life and strength returned to him. In good time he became free of his disorder and stood up and sought to go to the bath. So Merzewan took him by the hand and carried him to the bath, where they washed their bodies and made them clean. When his father heard of this, in his joy he freed the prisoners and gave alms to the poor; moreover he bestowed splendid dresses of honour upon his grandees and let decorate the city seven days. Then said Merzewan to Kemerezzeman, 'Know, O my lord, that the sole object of my journey hither was to deliver the princess Budour from her present strait; and it remains but for us to devise how we may get to her, since thy father cannot brook the thought of parting with thee. So it is my counsel that tomorrow thou ask his leave to go a-hunting, saying, "I have a mind to divert myself with hunting in the desert and to see the open country and pass the night there." Then do thou take with thee a pair of saddle-bags full of gold and mount a swift hackney and I will do the like; and we will take each a spare horse. Suffer not any servant to follow us, for as soon as we reach the open country, we will go our ways.' Kemerezzeman rejoiced mightily in this plan and said, 'It is good.' Then he took heart and going in to his father, sought his leave to go out to hunt, saying as Merzewan had taught him. The King consented and said, 'O my son, a thousandfold blessed be the day that restores thee to health! I will not gainsay thee in this; but pass not more than one night in the desert and return to me on the morrow; for thou knowest that life is not good to me without thee, and indeed I can hardly as yet credit thy recovery, because thou art to me as he of whom quoth the poet:

Though Solomon his carpet were mine both day and night, Though
     the Choeroës' empire, yea, and the world were mine,
All were to me in value less than a midge's wing, Except mine
     eyes still rested upon that face of thine.'

Then he equipped the prince and Merzewan for the excursion, bidding make them ready four horses, together with a dromedary to carry the money and a camel for the water and victuals; and Kemerezzeman forbade any of his attendants to follow him. His father bade him farewell and pressed him to his breast and kissed him, saying, 'I conjure thee by Allah, be not absent from me more than one night, wherein sleep will be denied me, for I am even as saith the poet:

Thy presence with me is my heaven of delight And my hell of
     affliction the loss of thy sight.
My soul be thy ransom! If love be my crime For thee, my offence,
     of a truth, is not light.
Doth passion blaze up in thy heart like to mine? I suffer the
     torments of hell day and night.'

'O my father,' answered Kemerezzeman, 'God willing, I will lie but one night abroad.' Then he took leave of him, and he and Merzewan mounted and taking with them the dromedary and camel, rode out into the open country. They drew not bridle from the first of the day till nightfall, when they halted and ate and drank and fed their beasts and rested awhile; after which they again took horse and fared on three days, till they came to a spacious wooded tract. Here they alighted and Merzewan, taking the camel and one of the horses, slaughtered them and cut the flesh off their bones. Then he took from Kemerezzeman his shirt and trousers and cassock and tearing them in shreds, smeared them with the horse's blood and cast them down in the fork of the road. Then they ate and drank and taking horse set forward again. 'O my brother,' said Kemerezzeman, 'what is this thou hast done and how will it profit us?' 'Know,' answered Merzewan, 'that thy father, when he finds that we have outstayed the night for which we had his leave, will mount and follow in our track till he comes hither; and when he sees the blood and thy clothes torn and bloodied, he will deem thee to have been slain of highway robbers or wild beasts; so he will give up hope of thee and return to his city, and by this devise we shall gain our end.' 'By Allah,' said Kemerezzeman, 'this is indeed a rare device! Thou hast done well.' Then they fared on days and nights and Kemerezzeman did nought but weep and complain, till they drew near their journey's end, when he rejoiced and repeated the following verses:

Wilt thou be harsh to a lover, who's never unmindful of thee, And
     wilt thou now cast him away to whom thou wast fain
     heretofore?
May I forfeit the favour of God, if I ever was false to thy love!
     Abandonment punish my crime, if I've broken the vows that I
     swore!
But no, I've committed no crime, that calleth for rigour from
     thee; Or, if in good sooth I'm at fault, I bring thee
     repentance therefor.
Of the marvels of Fortune it is that thou shouldst abandon me
     thus; But Fortune to bring to the light fresh marvels will
     never give o'er.

When he had made an end of these verses, Merzewan said to him, 'See, yonder are King Ghaïour's Islands.' Whereat Kemerezzeman rejoiced with an exceeding joy and thanked him for what he had done and strained him to his bosom and kissed him between the eyes. They entered the city and took up their lodging at a khan, where they rested three days from the fatigues of the journey; after which Merzewan carried Kemerezzeman to the bath and clothing him in a merchant's habit, provided him with a geomantic tablet of gold, a set of astrological instruments and an astrolabe of silver, plated with gold. Then he said to him, 'Go, O my lord, stand before the King's palace and cry out, "I am the mathematician, I am the scribe, I am he that knows the Sought and the Seeker, I am the skilled physician, I am the accomplished astrologer. Where then is he that seeketh?" When the King hears this, he will send after thee and carry thee in to his daughter the princess Budour, thy mistress: but do thou say to him, "Grant me three days' delay, and if she recover, give her to me to wife, and if not, deal with me as with those who came before me." If he agree to this, as soon as thou art alone with her, discover thyself to her; and when she knows thee, her madness will cease from her and she will be made whole in one night. Then do thou give her to eat and drink, and her father, rejoicing in her recovery, will marry thee to her and share his kingdom with thee, according to the condition he hath imposed on himself: and so peace be on thee.' 'May I never lack thine excellence!' replied Kemerezzeman, and taking the instruments aforesaid, sallied forth of the khan and took up his station before King Ghaïour's palace, where he began to cry out, saying, 'I am the scribe, I am the mathematician, he that knows the Sought and the Seeker, I am he who makes calculations for marriage contracts, who draws horoscopes, interprets dreams and traces the magical characters by which hidden treasures are discovered! Where then is the seeker?' When the people of the city heard this, they flocked to him, for it was long since they had seen a scribe or an astrologer, and stood round him, wondering at his beauty and grace and perfect symmetry. Presently one of them accosted him and said, 'God on thee, O fair youth with the eloquent tongue, cast not thyself into perdition, in thy desire to marry the princess Budour! Do but look on yonder heads hung up; they are all those of men who have lost their lives in this same venture.' He paid no heed to them, but cried out at the top of his voice, saying, 'I am the doctor, the scribe! I am the astrologer, the mathematician!' And all the townsfolk forbade him from this, but he heeded them not, saying in himself, 'None knoweth desire save he who suffereth it.' Then he began again to cry his loudest, saying, 'I am the scribe, I am the mathematician, I am the astrologer!' till all the townsfolk were wroth with him and said to him, 'Thou art but a silly self-willed boy! Have pity on thine own youth and tender years and beauty and grace.' But he cried all the more, 'I am the astrologer, I am the mathematician! Is there any one that seeketh?' As he was thus crying and the people remonstrating with him, King Ghaïour heard his voice and the clamour of the folk and said to his Vizier, 'Go down and bring me yon astrologer.' So the Vizier went down and taking Kemerezzeman from the midst of the crowd, carried him up to the King, before whom he kissed the earth, repeating the following verses:

Eight elements of high renown are all comprised in thee; By them
     may Fortune never cease thy bounder slave to be!
Munificence and knowledge sure, glory and piety, Fair fluent
     speech and eloquence and might and victory.

When the King saw him, he made him sit down by his side and said to him, 'By Allah, O my son, an thou be not an astrologer, venture not thy life nor submit thyself to my condition; for I have bound myself to strike off the head of whoso goeth in to my daughter and healeth her not of her disorder; but him who healeth her I will marry to her. So let not thy beauty and grace delude thee; for, by Allah, if thou cure her not, I will assuredly cut off thy head!' 'I knew of this condition before I came hither,' answered Kemerezzeman, 'and am ready to abide by it.' Then King Ghaïour took the Cadis to witness against him and delivered him to an eunuch, saying, 'Carry this fellow to the lady Budour.' So the eunuch took him by the hand and led him along the gallery; but Kemerezzeman out-went him and pushed on before, whilst the eunuch ran after him, saying, 'Out on thee! Hasten not to destroy thyself. By Allah, never yet saw I astrologer so eager for his own destruction: thou knowest not the calamities that await thee.' But Kemerezzeman turned away his face and repeated the following verses:

A learnéd man, I'm ignorant before thy beauties bright; Indeed, I
     know not what I say, confounded at thy sight.
If I compare thee to the sun, thou passest not away, Whilst the
     sun setteth from the sky and fails anon of light.
Perfect, indeed, thy beauties are; they stupefy the wise Nor ev'n
     the eloquent avail to praise thy charms aright.

The eunuch stationed Kemerezzeman behind the curtain of the princess's door and the prince said to him, 'Whether of the two wilt thou liefer have me do, cure thy lady from here or go in and cure her within the curtain?' The eunuch marvelled at his words and answered, 'It were more to thine honour to cure her from here.' So Kemerezzeman sat down behind the curtain and taking out pen and inkhorn and paper, wrote the following: 'This is the letter of one whom passion torments and whom desire consumes and sorrow and misery destroy; one who despairs of life and looks for nothing but death, whose mourning heart has neither comforter nor helper, whose sleepless eyes have none to succour them against affliction, whose day is passed in fire and his night in torment, whose body is wasted for much emaciation and there comes to him no messenger from his beloved:

I write with a heart devoted to thee and the thought of thee And
     an eyelid, wounded for weeping tears of the blood of me.
And a body that love and affliction and passion and long desire
     Have clad with the garment of leanness and wasted utterly.
I plain me to thee of passion, for sore hath it baffled me Nor is
     there a corner left me where patience yet may be.
Wherefore, have mercy, I prithee, show favour unto me, For my
     heart, my heart is breaking for love and agony.

The cure of hearts is union with the beloved and whom his love maltreateth, God is his physician. If either of us have broken faith, may the false one fail of his desire! There is nought goodlier than a lover who is faithful to a cruel beloved one.' Then, for a subscription, he wrote, 'From the distracted and despairing lover, him whom love and longing disquiet, from the captive of passion and transport, Kemerezzeman, son of Shehriman, to the peerless beauty, the pearl of the fair Houris, the Lady Budour, daughter of King Ghaïour. Know that by night I am wakeful and by day distraught, consumed with ever-increasing wasting and sickness and longing and love, abounding in sighs, rich in floods of tears, the prisoner of passion, the slain of desire, the debtor of longing, the boon-companion of sickness, he whose heart absence hath seared. I am the sleepless one, whose eyes close not, the slave of love, whose tears run never dry, for the fire of my heart is still unquenched and the flaming of my longing is never hidden.' Then in the margin he wrote this admired verse:

Peace from the stores of the grace of my Lord be rife On her in whose hand are my heart and soul and life!

And also these:

Vouchsafe thy converse unto me some little, so, perchance, Thou
     mayst have ruth on me or else my heart be set at ease.
Yea, for the transport of my love and longing after thee, Of all
     I've suffered I make light and all my miseries.
God guard a folk whose dwelling-place is far removed from mine,
     The secret of whose love I've kept in many lands and seas!
But fate, at last, hath turned on me a favourable face And on my
     loved one's threshold-earth hath cast me on my knees.
Budour beside me in the bed I saw and straight my moon, Lit by
     her sun, shone bright and blithe upon my destinies.[FN#39]

Then by way of subscription, he wrote the following verses:

Ask of my letter what my pen hath written, and the scroll Will
     tell the passion and the pain that harbour in my soul.
My hand, what while my tears rain down, writes and desire makes
     moan Unto the paper by the pen of all my weary dole.
My tears roll ever down my cheeks and overflow the page; Nay, I'd
     ensue them with my blood, if they should cease to roll.

And at the end he added this other verse:

I send thee back herewith the ring I took whilere of thee, Whenas we companied; so send me that thou hadst of me.

Then he folded up Budour's ring inside the letter and sealing it, gave it to the eunuch, who went in with it to the princess. She took it from him and opening it, found in it her own ring. Then she read the letter and when she understood its purport and knew that her beloved stood behind the curtain, her reason fled and her breast dilated for joy; and she repeated the following verses:

Long, long have I bewailed the sev'rance of our loves, With tears
     that from my lids streamed down like burning rain,
And vowed that, if the days should reunite us two, My lips should
     never speak of severance again.
Joy hath o'erwhelmed me so that, for the very stress Of that
     which gladdens me, to weeping I am fain.
Tears are become to you a habit, O my eyes, So that ye weep as
     well for gladness as for pain.

Then she rose and setting her feet to the wall, strained with all her might upon the iron collar, till she broke it from her neck and snapped the chains; then going forth, she threw herself on Kemerezzeman and kissed him on the mouth, like a pigeon billing. And she embraced him with all the stress of her love and longing and said to him, 'O my lord, do I wake or sleep and has God indeed vouchsafed us reunion after separation? Praised be He who hath reknit our loves, after despair!' When the eunuch saw this, he ran to King Ghaïour and kissing the earth before him, said, 'O my lord, know that this is indeed the prince and paragon of astrologers; for he hath cured thy daughter from behind the curtain, without going in to her.' 'Look to it well,' said the King; 'is this news true?' 'O my lord,' answered the eunuch, 'come and see for thyself how she hath found strength to break the iron chains and is come forth to the astrologer, kissing and embracing him.' So the King arose and went in to his daughter, who, when she saw him, rose and covered her face, reciting the following verses:

I love not the toothstick; 'tis hateful to me, For I, when I name
     it, say, "Other than thee."[FN#40]
But I love, notwithstanding, the capparis-tree, For, whenas I
     name it I say, "Thee I see."[FN#41]

The King was transported for joy at her recovery and kissed her between the eyes, for he loved her very dearly; then turning to Kemerezzeman, he asked him who he was and whence he came. The prince told him his name and rank and that he was the son of King Shehriman, and related to him the whole story from beginning to end; whereat Ghaïour marvelled and said, 'Verily, your story deserves to be recorded in books and read after you, generation after generation.' Then he summoned Cadis and witnesses forthright and married the two lovers; after which he bade decorate the city seven days long. So they decorated the city and held high festival, and all the troops donned their richest clothes, whilst the drums beat and the criers announced the glad tidings. Then they spread the tables with all manner meats and unveiled the princess before Kemerezzeman, and behold, each was like unto the other in beauty and elegance and amorous grace. So the King rejoiced in the issue of her affair and in her marriage and praised God for that He had made her to fall in love with a goodly youth of the sons of the kings. Then Kemerezzeman went in to her and lay with her that night and took his will of her, whilst she in like manner fufilled her desire of him and enjoyed his beauty and grace; and they clipped each other till the morning. On the morrow, the King made a banquet and spreading the tables with the richest meats, kept open house a whole month to all comers from the Islands of the Inner and the Outer Seas. Now, when Kemerezzeman had thus attained his desire and had tarried awhile with the princess Budour, he bethought him of his father and saw him in a dream, saying, 'O my son, is it thus thou dealest with me?' and reciting the following verses:

The moon o' the dark by his neglect my spirit doth appal And to
     the watching of his stars hath made my eyelids thrall.
But soft, my heart! It may be yet he will return to thee; And
     patience, soul, beneath the pain he's smitten thee withal!

Kemerezzeman awoke in the morning, afflicted and troubled at what he had seen, whereupon the princess questioned him and he told her his dream. Then they both went in to King Ghaïour and telling him what had passed, besought his leave to depart. He gave the prince the leave he sought; but the princess said, 'O my father, I cannot endure to be parted from him.' Quoth Ghaïour, 'Then go thou with him,' and gave her leave to be absent a whole year, charging her to visit him once in every year thereafterward. So she kissed his hand and Kemerezzeman did the like; after which he proceeded to equip them for the journey, furnishing them with horses and dromedaries of choice and a litter for his daughter, besides mules and camels laden with victual and all manner of travelling gear. Moreover, he gave them slaves and eunuchs to serve them and bestowed on Kemerezzeman ten splendid suits of cloth of gold, embroidered with jewels, together with a treasury[FN#42] of money and ten riding horses and as many she-camels. When the day of departure arrived, the King accompanied them to the farthest limits of his islands, where, going in to his daughter Budour in the litter, he kissed her and strained her to his bosom, weeping and repeating the following verses:

O thou that seekest parting, stay thy feet, For sure embraces are
     a lover's right.
Softly, for fortune's nature is deceit And parting is the end of
     love-delight.

Then, leaving her, he kissed her husband and commended his daughter to his care; after which he bade him farewell and giving the signal for departure, returned to his capital with his troops. The prince and princess and their suite fared on without stopping a whole month, at the end of which time they came to a spacious champaign, abounding in pasturage, where they alighted and pitched their tents. They ate and drank and rested, and the princess Budour lay down to sleep. Presently, Kemerezzeman went in to her and found her lying asleep, in a shift of apricot-coloured silk, that showed all it should have covered, and a coif of cloth of gold embroidered with pearls and jewels. The breeze raised her shift and showed her breasts and navel and a belly whiter than snow, each one of whose dimples contained an ounce of benzoin ointment.[FN#43] At this sight, his love and passion for her redoubled, and he recited the following verses:

If, whilst within my entrails the fires of hell did stir And
     flames raged high about me, 'twere spoken in my ear,
"Which wilt thou have the rather, a draught of water cold Or
     sight of her thou lovest?" I'd say, "The sight of her."

Then he put his hand to the ribbon of her trousers and drew it and loosed it, for that his soul lusted after her, when he saw a jewel, red as dragon's blood,[FN#44] made fast to the band. He untied and examined it and seeing two lines of writing graven thereon, in a character not to be read, marvelled and said in himself, 'Except she set great store by this, she had not tied it to the ribbon of her trousers nor hidden it in the most private place about her person, that she might not be parted from it. I wonder what she doth with it and what is the secret that is in it.' So saying, he took it and went without the tent to look at it in the light; but as he was examining it, a bird swooped down on him and snatching it from his hand, flew off with it and lighted on the ground at a little distance. Fearing to lose the talisman, he ran after the bird; but it flew on before him, keeping just out of his reach, and drew him on from place to place and from hill to hill, till the night came on and the air grew dark, when it roosted on a high tree. Kemerezzeman stopped under the tree, confounded and faint for hunger and weariness, and giving himself up for lost, would have turned back, but knew not the way, for the darkness had overtaken him. So he exclaimed, 'There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme!' and lying down under the tree, slept till the morning, when he awoke and saw the bird also awake and fly away. He arose and walked after it, and it flew on little by little before him, after the measure of his going; at which he smiled and said, 'By Allah, this is a strange thing! Yesterday, the bird flew before me as fast as I could run; and to-day, knowing that I am tired and cannot run, it flieth after the measure of my walking. By Allah, this is wonderful! But, whether it lead me to my death or to my life, I must needs follow it, wherever it goeth, for it will surely not abide save in some inhabited land. So he followed the bird, eating of the fruits of the earth and drinking of its waters, for ten days' space, and every night the bird roosted on a tree. At the end of this time, he came in sight of an inhabited city, whereupon the bird darted off like the glance of the eye and entering the town, was lost to view: and Kemerezzeman marvelled at this and exclaimed, 'Praised be God, who hath brought me hither in safety!' Then he sat down by a stream and washed his hands and feet and face and rested awhile: and recalling his late easy and pleasant life of union with his beloved and contrasting it with his present plight of trouble and weariness and hunger and strangerhood and severance, the tears streamed from his eyes and he repeated the following cinquains:

I strove to hide the load that love on me did lay; In vain, and
     sleep for me is changed to wake alway.
Whenas wanhope doth press my heart both night and day, I cry
     aloud, "O Fate, hold back thy hand, I pray.
          For all my soul is sick with dolour and dismay!"
If but the Lord of Love were just indeed to me, Sleep had not
     fled mine eyes by his unkind decree.
Have pity, sweet, on one that is for love of thee Worn out and
     wasted sore; once rich and great was he,
          Now beggared and cast down by love from his array.
The railers chide at thee full sore; I heed not, I, But stop my
     ears to them and give them back the lie.
"Thou lov'st a slender one," say they; and I reply, "I've chosen
     her and left all else beneath the sky."
          Enough; when fate descends, the eyes are blinded aye.

As soon as he was rested, he rose and walked on, little by little, till he came to the city-gate and entered, knowing not whither he should go. He traversed the city from end to end, without meeting any of the townsfolk, entering by the land-gate and faring on till he came out at the sea-gate, for the city stood on the sea-shore. Presently, he found himself among the orchards and gardens of the place and passed among the trees, till he came to a garden-gate and stopped before it, whereupon the keeper came out to him and saluted him. The prince returned his greeting and the other bade him welcome, saying, 'Praised be God that thou hast come off safe from the people of the city! Quick, come into the garden, ere any of the townsfolk see thee.' So Kemerezzeman entered the garden, amazed, and said to the keeper, 'Who and what then are the people of this city?' 'Know,' answered the other,' that the people of this city are all Magians: but, God on thee, tell me how and why thou camest hither.' Accordingly, Kemerezzeman told him all that had befallen him, at which the gardener marvelled greatly and said, 'Know, O my son, that from this place to the cities of Islam is four months' journey by sea and a whole year by land. We have a ship that sails yearly hence with merchandise to the Ebony Islands, which are the nearest Muslim country, and thence to the Khalidan Islands, the dominions of King Shehriman.' Kemerezzeman considered awhile and concluding that he could not do better than abide with the gardener and become his assistant, said to him, 'Wilt thou take me into thy service, to help thee in this garden?' 'Willingly,' answered the gardener and clothing him in a short blue gown, that reached to his knees, taught him to lead the water to the roots of the trees. So Kemerezzeman abode with him, watering the trees and hoeing up the weeds and weeping floods of tears; for he had no rest day or night, by reason of his strangerhood and separation from his beloved, and he ceased not to repeat verses upon her, amongst others the following:

Ye made us a promise of yore; will ye not to your promise be
     true? Ye spoke us a word aforetime; as ye spoke to us, will
     ye not do?
We waken, whilst ye are asleep, according to passion's decree; So
     have ye the vantage of us, for watchers and sleepers are
     two.
We vowed to each other, whilere, that we would keep secret our
     loves; But the breedbate possessed you to speak, and you
     spoke and revealed what none knew.
Belovéd in pleasure and pain, chagrin and contentment alike,
     Whate'er may betide, ye alone are the goal that my wishes
     ensue.
There's one that still holdeth a heart, a heart sore tormented of
     mine; Ah, would she'd have ruth on my plight and pity the
     soul that she slew!
Not every one's eye is as mine, worn wounded and cankered with
     tears, And hearts that are, even as mine, the bondslaves of
     passion, are few.
Ye acted the tyrant with me, saying, "Love is a tyrant, I trow."
     Indeed, ye were right, and the case has proved what ye said
     to be true.
Alack! They've forgotten outright a passion-distraught one,
     whose faith Time 'minisheth not, though the fires in his
     entrails rage ever anew.
If my foeman in love be my judge, to whom shall I make my
     complaint? To whom of injustice complain, to whom for
     redress shall I sue?
Were it not for my needing of love and the ardour that burns in
     my breast, I had not a heart love-enslaved and a soul that
     for passion must rue.

To return to the princess Budour. When she awoke, she sought her husband and found him not: then she saw the ribbon of her trousers undone and the talisman missing and said to herself, 'By Allah, this is strange! Where is my husband? It would seem as if he had taken the talisman and gone away, knowing not the secret that is in it. Whither can he have gone? It must have been some extraordinary matter that drew him away, for he cannot brook to leave me an hour. May God curse the talisman and its hour!' Then she considered awhile and said in herself, 'If I go out and tell the servants that my husband is lost, they will covet me: I must use stratagem.' So she rose and donned some of her husband's clothes and boots and spurs and a turban like his, drawing the loose end across her face for a chin-band. Then setting a slave-girl in her litter, she went forth the tent and called to the servants, who brought her Kemerezzeman's horse; and she mounted and bade load the beasts and set forward. So they bound on the burdens and departed, none doubting but she was Kemerezzeman, for she resembled him in face and form; nor did they leave journeying, days and nights, till they came in sight of a city overlooking the sea, when they halted to rest and pitched their tents without the walls. The princess asked the name of the place and was told, 'It is called the City of Ebony: its king is named Armanous, and he hath a daughter called Heyat en Nufous.' Presently, the King sent to learn who it was that had encamped without his city; so the messenger, coming to the tents, enquired of Budour's servants and was told that she was a king's son, bound for the Khalidan Islands, who had strayed from his road; whereupon he returned and told the King, who straightway took horse and rode out, with his nobles, to meet the strange prince. As he drew near the tents, the princess came to meet him on foot, whereupon the King alighted and they saluted each other. Then he carried her into the city and bringing her to the palace, let spread a banquet and bade transport her company and baggage to the guest-house, where they abode three days; at the end of which time the King came in to Budour (Now she had that day gone to the bath and her face shone as the moon at its full, enchanting all beholders, and she was clad in robes of silk, embroidered with gold and jewels) and said to her, 'Know, O my son, that I am a very old man and am grown unable for the conduct of the state. Now God has blessed me with no child save one daughter, who resembles thee in beauty and grace; so, O my son, if this my country please thee and thou be willing to make thine abode here, I will marry thee to my daughter and give thee my kingdom and so be at rest.' When Budour heard this, she bowed her head and her forehead sweated for shame, and she said to herself, 'How shall I do, and I a woman? If I refuse and depart, I cannot be safe but that he may send after me troops to kill me; and if I consent, belike I shall be put to shame. I have lost my beloved Kemerezzeman and know not what is come of him; wherefore I see nothing for it but to hold my peace and consent and abide here, till God accomplish what is to be.' So she raised her head and made submission to King Armanous, saying, 'I hear and obey,' whereat he rejoiced and bade make proclamation, throughout the Ebony Islands, to hold high festival and decorate the houses. Then he assembled his chamberlains and Amirs and Viziers and other officers of state and the Cadis of the city, and putting off the kingship, invested Budour therewith and clad her in the royal robes. Moreover, the Amirs and grandees went in to her and did her homage, nothing doubting but that she was a young man, and all who looked on her berayed their hose for the excess of her beauty and grace; then, after the lady Budour had been made Sultan and the drums had been beaten, in announcement of the joyful event, Armanous proceeded to equip his daughter for marriage, and in a few days, they brought Budour in to her, when they seemed as it were two moons risen at one time or two suns foregathering. So they entered the bridal-chamber and the doors were shut and the curtains let down upon them, after the attendants had lighted the candles and spread the bed for them. When Budour found herself alone with the princess Heyat en Nufous, she called to mind her beloved Kemerezzeman and grief was sore upon her. So she wept for his loss and absence and repeated the following verses:

O ye who went and left my heart to pine alone fore'er, No spark
     of life remains in me, since ye away did fare!
I have an eye that doth complain of sleeplessness alway; Tears
     have consumed it; would to God that sleeplessness would
     spare!
When ye departed, after you the lover did abide; But question of
     him what of pain in absence he doth bear.
But for the ceaseless flood of tears my eyes pour forth, the
     world Would at my burning all catch fire, yea, seas and
     lands and air.
To God Most High I make my moan of dear ones loved and lost, That
     on my passion have no ruth nor pity my despair.
I never did them wrong, except my love for them were such; But
     into blest and curst in love men aye divided were.

When she had finished, she sat down beside the princess Heyat en Nufous and kissed her on the mouth. Then, rising abruptly, she made the ablution and betook herself to her devotions, nor did she leave praying till Heyat en Nufous was asleep, when she slipt into bed and lay with her back to her till morning; then rose and went out. Presently, the old king and queen came in to their daughter and asked her how she did, whereupon she told them what had passed and repeated to them the verses she had heard.

Meanwhile, Budour seated herself upon the throne and all the Amirs and captains and officers of state came in to her and wished her joy of the kingship, kissing the earth before her and calling down blessings upon her. She smiled on them and clad them in robes of honour, augmenting the fiefs of the Amirs and giving largesse to the troops; wherefore all the people loved her and offered up prayers for the continuance of her reign, doubting not but that she was a man. She sat all day in the hall of audience, ordering and forbidding and dispensing justice, releasing those who were in prison and remitting the customs dues, till nightfall, when she withdrew to the apartment prepared for her. Here she found Heyat en Nufous seated; so she sat down by her and clapping her on the back, caressed her and kissed her between the eyes, repeating the following verses:

The secret that I cherished my tears have public made; The
     wasting of my body my passion hath bewrayed.
I hid my love and longing; but on the parting-day My plight,
     alas! revealed it to spies; 'twas open laid.
O ye who have departed the camp, ye've left behind My body worn
     with languor and spirit all decayed.
Within my heart's recesses ye have your dwelling-place; My tears
     are ever running and lids with blood berayed.
For ever will I ransom the absent with my soul; Indeed, for them
     my yearnings are patent and displayed.
I have an eye, whose pupil, for love of them, rejects Sleep and
     whose tears flow ever, unceasing and unstayed.
My foes would have me patient for him; but God forbid That ever
     of my hearing should heed to them be paid!
I baulked their expectation. Of Kemerezzeman Sometime I did
     accomplish the joys for which I prayed.
He doth, as none before him, perfections all unite; No king of
     bygone ages was in the like arrayed.
His clemency and bounty Ben Zaïdeh's[FN#45] largesse And
     Muawiyeh's[FN#46] mildness have cast into the shade.
But that it would be tedious and verse sufficeth not To picture
     forth his beauties, I'd leave no rhyme unmade.

Then she wiped away her tears and making the ablution, stood up to pray; nor did she give over praying, till drowsiness overcame Heyat en Nufous and she slept, whereupon Budour came and lay beside her till the morning. At daybreak, she arose and prayed the morning-prayer; then, going forth, seated herself on the throne and passed the day in ordering and forbidding and administering justice. Meanwhile, King Armanous went in to his daughter and asked her how she did; so she told him all that had passed and repeated to him the verses that Budour had recited, adding, 'O my father, never saw I one more abounding in sense and modesty than my husband, save that he doth nothing but weep and sigh.' 'O my daughter,' answered her father, 'have patience with him yet this third night, and if he go not in to thee and do away thy maidenhead, we will take order with him and oust him from the throne and banish him the country.' When the night came, the princess Budour rose from the throne and betaking herself to the bride-chamber, found the candles lighted and the princess Heyat en Nufous sitting awaiting her; whereupon she bethought her of her husband and recalling the early severance of their loves, wept and sighed and groaned groan upon groan, repeating the following verses:

I swear the tidings of my woes fills all the country-side, Like
     the sun shining on the hills of Nejed far and wide.
His gesture speaks, but hard to tell the meaning of it is, And
     thus my yearning without end is ever magnified.
I hate fair patience since the hour I fell in love with thee.
     Hast seen a lover hating love at any time or tide?
One, in whose glances sickness lies, hath smitten me to death,
     For looks are deadliest of the things, wherein doth sickness
     bide.
He shook his clustered ringlets down and laid his chin-band by,
     And beauty thus in him, at once both black and white, I
     spied.
Sickness and cure are in his hands; for, to the sick of love, By
     him alone who caused their dole can healing be applied.
The softness of his waist hath made his girdle mad for love And
     of his hips, for jealousy, to rise he is denied.
His forehead, covered with his curls, is as a mirky night;
     Unveiled, 'tis as a shining moon that thrusts the dark
     aside.

When she had finished, she would have risen to pray, but Heyat en Nufous caught her by the skirt, saying, 'O my lord, art thou not ashamed to neglect me thus, after all the favour my father hath done thee?' When Budour heard this, she sat down again and said, 'O my beloved, what is this thou sayest?' 'What I say,' answered Heyat en Nufous, 'is that I never saw any so self-satisfied as thou. Is every fair one so disdainful? I say not this to incline thee to me, but only of my fear for thee from King Armanous; for he purposes, an thou go not in to me to-night and do away my maidenhead, to strip thee of the kingship on the morrow and banish thee the realm; and belike his much anger may lead him to kill thee. But I, O my lord, have compassion on thee and give thee fair warning; and it is thine to decide.' At this, Budour bowed her head in perplexity and said in herself, 'If I refuse, I am lost, and if I obey, I am shamed. I am now queen of all the Ebony Islands and they are under my rule and I shall never again foregather with Kemerezzeman except it be in this place; for there is no way for him to his native land but through the Ebony Islands. Verily, I know not what to do, for I am no man that I should arise and open this virgin girl; but I commit my case to God, who orders all for the best.' Then she said to Heyat en Nufous, 'O my beloved, it is in my own despite that I have neglected thee and abstained from thee.' And she discovered herself to her and told her her whole story, saying, 'I conjure thee by Allah to keep my counsel, till God reunite me with my beloved Kemerezzeman, and then let what will happen.' Her story moved Heyat en Nufous to wonder and pity, and she prayed God to reunite her with her beloved, saying, 'Fear nothing, O my sister, but have patience till God accomplish that which is to be.' And she repeated the following verses:

None keepeth counsel saving those who're trusty and discreet. A
     secret's ever safely placed with honest folk and leal;
And secrets trusted unto me are in a locked-up house, Whose keys
     are lost and on whose door is set the Cadi's seal.

'O my sister,' continued she, 'the breasts of the noble are the graves of secrets, and I will not discover thine.' Then they toyed and embraced and kissed and slept till near the call to morning-prayer, when Heyat en Nufous arose and slaughtering a young pigeon, besmeared herself and besprinkled her shift with its blood. Then she put off her trousers and cried out, whereupon her waiting-women hastened to her and raised cries of joy. Presently, her mother came in to her aad asked her how she did and tended her and abode with her till evening; whilst the lady Budour repaired to the bath and after washing herself, proceeded to the hall of audience, where she sat down on her throne and dispensed justice among the folk. When King Armanous heard the cries, he asked what was the matter and was informed of the consummation of his daughter's marriage; whereat he rejoiced and his breast dilated and he made a great banquet.

To return to King Shehriman. When Kemerezzeman and Merzewan returned not at the appointed time, he passed the night without sleep, restless and consumed with anxiety. The night was long upon him and he thought the day would never dawn. He passed the forenoon of the ensuing day in expectation of his son's coming, but he came not; whereat his heart forebode separation and he was distraught with fears for Kemerezzeman. He wept till his clothes were drenched, crying out, 'Alas, my son!' and repeating the following verses from an aching heart:

Unto the votaries of love I still was contrary, Till of its
     bitter and its sweet myself perforce must taste.
I quaffed its cup of rigours out, yea, even to the dregs, And to
     its freemen and its slaves myself therein abased.
Fortune aforetime made a vow to separate our loves; Now hath she
     kept her vow, alack! and made my life a waste.

Then he wiped away his tears and bade his troops make ready for a long journey. So they all mounted and set forth, headed by the Sultan, whose heart burnt with grief and anxiety for his son. He divided the troops into six bodies, whom he despatched in as many directions, giving them rendezvous for the morrow at the cross-roads. Accordingly they scoured the country diligently all that day and night, till at noon of the ensuing day they joined company at the cross-roads. Here four roads met and they knew not which the prince had followed, till they came to the torn clothes and found shreds of flesh and blood scattered by the way on all sides. When the King saw this, he cried out from his inmost heart, saying, 'Alas, my son!' and buffeted his face and tore his beard and rent his clothes, doubting not but his son was dead. Then he gave himself up to weeping and wailing, and the troops also wept for his weeping, being assured that the prince had perished. They wept and lamented and threw dust on their heads till they were nigh upon death, and the night surprised them whilst they were thus engaged. Then the King repeated the following verses, with a heart on fire for the torment of his despair:

Blame not the mourner for the grief to which he is a prey, For
     yearning sure sufficeth him, with all its drear dismay.
He weeps for dreariment and grief and stress of longing pain, And
     eke his transport doth the fires, that rage in him, bewray.
Alas, his fortune who's Love's slave, whom languishment hath
     bound Never to let his eyelids stint from weeping night and
     day!
He mourns the loss of one was like a bright and brilliant moon,
     That shone out over all his peers in glorious array.
But Death did proffer to his lips a brimming cup to drink, What
     time he left his native land, and now he's far away.
He left his home and went from us unto calamity; Nor to his
     brethren was it given to him farewell to say.
Indeed, his loss hath stricken me with anguish and with woe; Yea,
     for estrangement from his sight my wits are gone astray.
Whenas the Lord of all vouchsafed to him His Paradise, Upon his
     journey forth he fared and passed from us for aye.

Then he returned with the troops to his capital, giving up his son for lost and deeming that wild beasts or highwaymen had set on him and torn him in pieces, and made proclamation that all in the Khalidan Islands should don black in mourning for him. Moreover, he built a pavilion in his memory, naming it House of Lamentations, and here he was wont to spend his days, (with the exception of Mondays and Thursdays, which he devoted to the business of the state), mourning for his son and bewailing him with verses, of which the following are some:

My day of bliss is that whereon thou drawest near to me, And
     that, whereon thou turn'st away, my day of death and fear.
What though I tremble all the night and go in dread of death, Yet
     thine embraces are to me than safety far more dear.

And again:

My soul redeem the absent, whose going cast a blight On hearts
     and did afflict them with anguish and affright!
Let gladness then accomplish its purification-time,[FN#47] For,
     by a triple divorcement,[FN#48] I've put away delight.

Meanwhile, the princess Budour abode in the Ebony Islands, whilst the folk would point to her and say, 'Yonder is King Armanous's son-in-law;' and every night she lay with Heyat en Nufous, to whom she made moan of her longing for her husband Kemerezzeman, weeping and describing to her his beauty and grace and yearning to enjoy him, though but in a dream. And bytimes she would repeat these verses:

God knows that, since my severance from thee, full sore I've
     wept, So sore that needs my eyes must run for very tears in
     debt.
"Have patience," quoth my censurer, "and thou shalt win them
     yet," And I, "O thou that blamest me, whence should I
     patience get?"

All this time, Kemerezzeman abode with the gardener, weeping and repeating verses night and day, bewailing the seasons of enjoyment and the nights of delight, whilst the gardener comforted him with the assurance that the ship would set sail for the land of the Muslims at the end of the year. One day, he saw the folk crowding together and wondered at this; but the gardener came in to him and said, 'O my son, give over work for to-day neither water the trees; for it is a festival day, on which the folk visit one another. So rest and only keep thine eye on the garden, whilst I go look after the ship for thee; for yet but a little while and I send thee to the land of the Muslims.' So saying, he went out, leaving Kemerezzeman alone in the garden, who fell to musing upon his condition, till his courage gave way and the tears streamed from his eyes. He wept till he swooned away, and when he recovered, he rose and walked about the garden pondering what fate had done with him and bewailing his long estrangement from those he loved. As he went thus, absorbed in melancholy thought, his foot stumbled and he fell on his face, striking his forehead against the stump of a tree. The blow cut it open and his blood ran down and blent with his tears. He rose and wiping away the blood, dried his tears and bound his forehead with a piece of rag; then continued his melancholy walk about the garden. Presently, he saw two birds quarrelling on a tree, and one of them smote the other on the neck with its beak and cut off its head, with which it flew away, whilst the slain bird's body fell to the ground before Kemerezzeman. As it lay, two great birds flew down and alighting, one at the head and the other at the tail of the dead bird, drooped their wings over it and bowing their heads towards it, wept; and when Kemerezzeman saw them thus bewail their mate, he called to mind his wife and father and wept also. Then he saw them dig a grave and bury the dead bird; after which they flew away, but presently returned with the murderer and alighting on the grave, stamped on him till they killed him. Then they rent his belly and tearing out his entrails, poured the blood on the grave. Moreover, they stripped off his skin and tearing his flesh in pieces, scattered it hither and thither. All this while Kemerezzeman was watching them and wondering; but presently, chancing to look at the dead bird's crop, he saw therein something gleaming. So he opened it and found the talisman that had been the cause of his separation from his wife. At this sight, he fell down in a swoon for joy; and when he revived, he said, 'Praised be God! This is a good omen and a presage of reunion with my beloved.' Then he examined the jewel and passed it over his eyes; after which he bound it to his arm, rejoicing in coming good, and walked about, awaiting the gardener's return, till nightfall; when, as he came not, he lay down and slept in his wonted place. At daybreak he rose and girding himself with a cord of palm-fibre, took hoe and basket and went out to his work in the garden. Presently, he came to a carob-tree and struck the hoe into its roots. The blow resounded [as if it had fallen on metal]; so he cleared away the earth and discovered a trap-door of brass. He raised the trap and found a winding stair, which he descended and came to an ancient vault of the time of Aad and Themoud,[FN#49] hewn out of the rock. Round the vault stood many brazen vessels of the bigness of a great oil-jar, into one of which he put his hand and found it full of red and shining gold; whereupon he said to himself, 'Verily, the days of weariness are past and joy and solace are come!' Then he returned to the garden and replacing the trap-door, busied himself in tending the trees till nightfall, when the gardener came back and said to him, 'O my son, rejoice in a speedy return to thy native land, for the merchants are ready for the voyage and in three days' time the ship will set sail for the City of Ebony, which is the first of the cities of the Muslims; and thence thou must travel by land six months' journey till thou come to the Islands of Khalidan, the dominions of King Shehriman.' At this Kemerezzeman rejoiced and repeated the following verses:

Forsake not a lover unused aversion from thee, Nor punish the
     guiltless with rigour and cruelty.
Another, when absence was long, had forgotten thee And changed
     from his faith and his case; not so with me.

Then he kissed the gardener's hand, saying, 'O my father, even as thou hast brought me glad tidings, so I also have great good news for thee,' and told him of his discovery in the garden; whereat the gardener rejoiced and said, 'O my son, fourscore years have I dwelt in this garden and have never chanced on aught; whilst thou, who hast not sojourned with me a year, hast discovered this thing; wherefore it is God's gift to thee, for the cesser of thine ill fortune, and will aid thee to rejoin thy folk and foregather with her thou lovest.' 'Not so,' answered Kemerezzeman, 'it must be shared between us.' Then he carried him to the underground chamber and showed him the gold, which was in twenty jars. So he took ten and the gardener ten, and the latter said to him, 'O my son, fill thyself jars with the olives that grow in the garden, for they are not found but in our land and are sought after; the merchants carry them to all parts and they are called Asafiri[FN#50] olives. Lay the gold in the jars and cover it with olives: then stop them and cover them and take them with thee in the ship.' So Kemerezzeman took fifty jars and laying in each somewhat of the gold, filled it up with olives. At the bottom of one of the jars he laid the talisman, then stopped and covered the jars and sat down to talk with the gardener, making sure of speedy reunion with his own people and saying in himself, 'When I come to the Ebony Islands, I will journey thence to my father's country and enquire for my beloved Budour. I wonder whether she turned back to her own land or journeyed on to my father's country or whether there befell her any accident by the way.' And he repeated the following verses:

Love in my breast they lit and passed away forthright: Far
     distant is the land that holds my soul's delight.
Far, far from me the camp and those that dwell therein; No
     visitation-place again shall us unite.
Patience and reason fled from me, when they fared forth; Sleep
     failed me and despair o'ercame me, like a blight.
They left me, and with them departed all my joy; Tranquillity and
     peace with them have taken flight.
They made mine eyes run down with tears of love laid waste; My
     lids for lack of them brim over day and night.
Whenas my sad soul longs to see them once again And waiting and
     desire are heavy on my spright,
Midmost my heart of hearts their images I trace, Love and
     desireful pain and yearning for their sight.

Then he told the gardener what he had seen pass between the birds, whereat he wondered; and they both lay down and slept till the morning. The gardener awoke sick and abode thus two days; but on the third day, his sickness increased on him, till they despaired of his life and Kemerezzeman grieved sore for him. Meanwhile, the captain and sailors came and enquired for the gardener. Kemerezzeman told them that he was sick, and they said, 'Where is the young man that is minded to go with us to the Ebony Islands?' 'He is your servant,' answered the prince and bade them carry the jars of olives to the ship. So they transported them to the ship, saying, 'Make haste, for the wind is fair;' and he answered, 'I hear and obey.' Then he carried his victual on board and returning, to bid the gardener farewell, found him in the agonies of death. So he sat down at his head and closed his eyes, and his soul departed his body; whereupon he laid him out and committed him to the earth to the mercy of God the Most High. Then he went down to the port, to embark, but found that the ship had already weighed anchor and set sail; nor did she cease to cleave the waters, till she disappeared from his sight. So he returned to the garden, sorrowful and heavy-hearted, and sitting down, threw dust on his head and buffeted his face. Then he rented the garden of its owner and hired a man to help him tend the trees. Moreover, he went down to the underground chamber and bringing up the rest of the gold, stowed it in other fifty jars, which he filled up with olives. Then he enquired of the ship and was told that it sailed but once a year; at which his affliction redoubled and he mourned sore for that which had befallen him, above all for the loss of the princess Budour's talisman, and spent his nights and days weeping and repeating verses.

Meanwhile, the ship sailed with a favouring wind, till it reached the Ebony Islands. As fate would have it, the princess Budour was sitting at a window overlooking the sea and saw the ship cast anchor in the port. At this sight, her heart throbbed and she mounted and riding down to the port, with her officers, halted by the ship, whilst the sailors broke out the cargo and transported the goods to the storehouses; after which she called the captain and asked what he had with him. 'O King,' answered he, 'I have with me drugs and cosmetics and powders and ointments and plasters and rich stuffs and Yemen rugs and other costly merchandise, not to be borne of mule or camel, and all manner essences and spices and perfumes, civet and ambergris and camphor and Sumatra aloes-wood, and tamarinds and Asafiri olives to boot, such as are rare to find in this country.' When she heard talk of Asafiri olives, her heart yearned for them and she said to the captain, 'How much olives hast thou?' 'Fifty jars full,' answered he. 'Their owner is not with us, but the King shall take what he will of them.' Quoth she, 'Bring them ashore, that I may see them.' So he called to the sailors, who brought her the fifty jars; and she opened one and looking at the olives, said to the captain, 'I will take the whole fifty and pay you their value, whatever it may be.' 'By Allah, O my lord,' answered he, 'they have no value in our country and the fifty jars may be worth some hundred dirhems; but their owner tarried behind us, and he is a poor man.' 'And what are they worth here?' asked she. 'A thousand dirhems,' replied he. 'I will take them at that price,' quoth she and bade carry the fifty jars to the palace. When it was night, she called for a jar of olives and opened it, there being none present but herself and the princess Heyat en Nufous. Then, taking a dish, she turned into it the contents of the jar, when behold there fell out into the dish with the olives a heap of red gold and she said to Heyat en Nufous, 'This is nought but gold!' So she sent for the rest of the jars and found each one full of gold and scarce enough olives in the whole fifty to fill one jar. Moreover, she sought among the gold and found the talisman, which she took and examined and knew for that which Kemerezzeman had taken from off the riband of her trousers; whereupon she cried out for joy and fell down in a swoon. When she revived, she said in herself, 'Verily, this talisman was the cause of my separation from my beloved Kemerezzeman; but now it is an omen of good.' Then she showed it to Heyat en Nufous and said to her, 'This was the cause of separation and now, please God, it shall be the cause of reunion.' As soon as it was day, she seated herself on her throne and sent for the captain, who came and kissed the ground before her. Quoth she, 'Where didst thou leave the owner of these olives?' 'O King of the age,' answered he, 'we left him in the land of the Magians and he is a gardener there.' 'Except thou bring him to me,' said she, 'thou knowest not the harm that awaits thee and thy ship.' Then she bade seal up the merchants' storehouses and said to them, 'The owner of these olives is my debtor; and an ye bring him not to me, I will without fail put you all to death and confiscate your goods.' So they all went to the captain and promised him the hire of the ship, if he would go and return a second time, saying, 'Deliver us from this masterful tyrant.' Accordingly, the captain set sail and God decreed him a prosperous voyage, till he came to the city of the Magians, and landing by night, went up to the garden. Now the night was long upon Kemerezzeman, and he sat, bethinking him of his beloved and weeping over what had befallen him and repeating the following verses:

Full many a night I've passed, whose stars their course did stay,
     A night that seemed of those that will not pass away,
That was, as 'twere, for length the Resurrection-morn, To him
     that watched therein and waited for the day!

At this moment, the captain knocked at the garden-gate, and Kemerezzeman opened and went out to him, whereupon the sailors seized him and carrying him on board the ship, weighed anchor forthright. They sailed on without ceasing days and nights, whilst Kemerezzeman knew not why they dealt thus with him; but when he questioned them, they replied, 'Thou hast offended against the lord of the Ebony Islands, the son-in-law of King Armanous, and hast stolen his good, unhappy wretch that thou art!' 'By Allah,' said he, 'I know not the country nor was I ever there in all my life!' However, they fared on with him, till they made the Ebony Islands and landing, carried him up to the princess Budour, who knew him at sight and said, 'Leave him with the eunuchs, that they may take him to the bath.' Then she relieved the merchant of the embargo and gave the captain a dress of honour and ten thousand dinars; after which, she went in that night to the princess Heyat en Nufous and told her what had passed, saying, 'Keep thou my counsel, till I accomplish my purpose and do a thing that shall be recorded and told to kings and commoners after us.' Meanwhile, they carried Kemerezzeman to the bath and clad him in a royal habit, so that, when he came forth, he resembled a willow-wand or a star whose aspect put to shame both sun and moon, and his life returned to him. Then he went in to the princess Budour, who, when she saw him, schooled her heart to patience, till she should have accomplished her purpose, and bestowed on him slaves and servants, black and white, and camels and mules. Moreover, she gave him a treasury of money and advanced him from dignity to dignity, till she made him treasurer and committed to his charge all the treasures of the state; nor did she leave day by day to increase his allowances and afford him fresh marks of her favour. As for Kemerezzeman, he was at a loss for the reason of all the honour and favour she showed him and gave gifts and largesse out of the abundance of the wealth he owed to her munificence, devoting himself in particular to the service of King Armanous, so that he and all the Amirs and people, great and small, loved him and were wont to swear by his life. Nevertheless, he ceased not to marvel at the favour shown him by Budour and said in himself, 'By Allah, there must be a reason for this affection! Peradventure, this king favours me thus excessively with some ill purpose and needs must I therefore crave leave of him to depart his realm.' So he went in to Budour and said to her, 'O King, thou hast overwhelmed me with favours, but it will fulfil the measure of thy bounties if thou wilt take from me all thou hast given and let me depart.' She smiled and said, 'What makes thee seek to depart and plunge into new perils, whenas thou art in the enjoyment of the greatest favour and prosperity?' 'O King,' answered Kemerezzeman, 'this favour, if there be no reason for it, is indeed a wonder of wonders, more by token that thou hast advanced me to dignities such as befit graybeards, albeit I am but a child.' 'The reason is,' answered she, 'that I love thee for thine exceeding grace and thy surpassing beauty; and so thou wilt but grant me my desire of thee, I will advance thee yet further in honour and favour and largesse and make thee Vizier, for all thy tender age, even as the folk made me Sultan and I no older than thou; so that nowadays there is nothing strange in the headship of children, and gifted of God was he who said:

Our time is, meseems, of the lineage of Lot; It craves the advancement of younglings, God wot.'

When Kemerezzeman heard this, he was confounded and his cheeks flushed till they seemed on fire; and he said, 'I reck not of favours that involve the commission of sin; I will live poor in wealth but rich in virtue and honour.' Quoth she, 'I am not the dupe of thy scruples, arising from prudery and coquetry: and God bless him who says:

I mentioned to him the pact of fruition, and he, "How long with
     vexatious discourse wilt thou set upon me?"
I showed him a dinar and straightway he sang out and said, "O
     whither shall one from Fate irresistible flee!"

'O King,' replied Kemerezzeman, 'I have not the wont of these doings, nor have I strength, who am but of tender years, to bear these heavy burdens, for which elder than I have proved unable.' She smiled and rejoined, 'Indeed, it is wonderful how error springs from the disorder of the wit. Since thou art but a boy, why standest thou in fear of sin or the doing of forbidden things, seeing that thou art not yet come to years of discretion and the offences of a child incur neither punishment nor reproof? Verily, thou committest thyself to an argument advanced but for the sake of contention, and it behoves thee to bow to the ordinance of fruition, which has been given against thee. Wherefore, henceforward, give over denial and coyness, for the commandment of God is a foreordained decree:[FN#51] indeed, I have more reason than thou to fear falling into error; and well-inspired was he who said:

My pintle is big and the little one said unto me, "Tilt boldly
     therewith at my inwards and quit thee thy need."
Quoth I, "'Tis unlawful;" but he, "It is lawful with me;" So to
     it I fell, supporting myself by his rede.'

When Kemerezzeman heard these words, the light in his eyes became darkness and he said, 'O King, thou hast in thy palace women and female slaves, that have not their like in this age: may not these suffice thee without me? Do thy will with them and leave me.' 'Thou speakest truth,' answered she; 'but it is not with them that one who loves thee can heal himself of torment and fever; for when tastes and inclinations are corrupted, they hearken to other than good counsel. So leave arguing and hear what the poet says:

Seest not the fruits of the market, how of two kinds they be? Some are for figs,[FN#52] but more for the fruit of the sycamore-tree.[FN#53]

And what another says:

Full many an one, whose ankle-rings are dumb, her girdle sounds;
     So this one is content and that a tale of need must tell.
Thou'dst have me, foolwise, in her charms forget thee. God
     forfend I, that a true believer am, should turn an infidel!
No, by a whisker that makes mock of all her curls, I swear, Nor
     maid nor strumpet from thy side shall me by guile compel!

And a third:

O pearl of loveliness, to love thee is my faith; Yea, and my
     choice of all the faiths that have been aye.
Women I have forsworn, indeed, for thy sweet sake, So that the
     folk avouch I'm grown a monk to-day

And a fourth:

Compare not a wench with a boy and to the spy, Who says to thee,
     "This is wrong," pay thou no heed.
'Twixt a woman whose feet one's lips kiss and a smooth-faced
     fawn, Who kisses the earth, the diff'rence is great indeed.

And a fifth:

My soul be thy ransom! Indeed, I've chosen thee out with intent,
     Because thou layest no eggs and dost not menstruate.
For, an I inclined to foregather with harlots, upon my faith, The
     wide, wide world for the brats I should get would prove too
     strait.

And a sixth:

Quoth she to me,—and sore enraged for wounded pride was she, For
     she in sooth had bidden me to that which might not be,—
"An if thou swive me not forthright, as one should swive his
     wife, If thou be made a cuckold straight, reproach it not to
     me.
Meseems thy yard is made of wax, for very flaccidness; For, when
     I rub it with my hand, it softens instantly."

And a seventh:

Quoth she (for I to lie with her would not consent), "O fool,
     that followest on thy folly to the extent,
If thou reject my kaze for Kibleh[FN#54] to thy yard, We'll show
     thee one wherewith thou shalt be sure content."

And an eighth:

She proffered me a tender kaze; But I, "I will not swive,"
     replied.
She drew back, saying, "From the truth Needs must he turn who's
     turned aside;[FN#55]
And swiving frontwise in our day Is all abandoned and decried;"
Then turned and showed me, as it were A lump of silver, her
     backside.
"Well done, O mistress mine! No more Am I in pain for thee," I
     cried,
"Whose poke of all God's openings[FN#56] Is sure the amplest and
     most wide!"

And a ninth:

Men crave forgiveness with uplifted hands; But women pray with
     lifted legs, I trow.[FN#57]
Out on it for a pious piece of work! God shall exalt it to the
     deeps below.[FN#58]

When Kemerezzeman heard these verses and was certified that there was no escaping compliance with her will, he said, 'O King, if thou must needs have it so, swear to me that thou wilt use me thus but once, though it avail not to stay thy debauched appetite; and that thou wilt never again require me of this to the end of time; so it may be God will purge me of the sin.' 'I promise thee that,' replied she, 'hoping that God of His favour will relent towards us and blot out our mortal sins; for the compass of the Divine forgiveness is not indeed so strait, but it may altogether embrace us and absolve us of the excess of our transgressions and bring us to the light of righteousness out of the darkness of error. As most excellent well saith the poet:

The folk imagine of us twain an evil thing, I ween, And with
     their hearts and souls, indeed, they do persist therein.
Come, let us justify their thought and free them thus from guilt,
     This once, 'gainst us; and then will we repent us of our
     sin.'

Then she swore to him a solemn oath, by Him whose existence is unconditioned, that this thing should befall betwixt them but once and never again for all time, and vowed to him that the desire of him was driving her to death and perdition. So he went with her, on this condition, to her privy closet, that she might quench the fire of her passion, saying, 'There is no power and no virtue save in God the Most High, the Supreme! This is the ordinance of the All-powerful, the All-wise!' And did off his trousers, in the utmost confusion, with the tears running from his eyes for stress of affright; whereat she smiled and carrying him on to a couch, said to him, 'After this night, thou shalt see nought that will displease thee.' Then she turned to him, kissing and clipping him and twining leg with leg, and said to him, 'Put thy hand, between my thighs, to that thou wottest of, so haply it may be won to stand up after prostration.' He wept and said, 'I am not good at aught of this.' But she said, 'As I live, an thou do as I bid thee, it shall profit thee!' So he put out his hand, with a heart on fire for confusion, and found her thighs fresher than cream and softer than silk. The touching of them pleasured him and he moved his hand hither and thither, till he came to a dome abounding in benedictions and movements and said in himself, 'Belike this king is a hermaphrodite, nor male nor female.' So he said to her, 'O King, I cannot find that thou hast any manly gear, even as other men; what then moved thee to do thus?' When the princess heard this, she laughed till she fell backward, and said, 'O my beloved, how quickly thou hast forgotten the nights we have lain together!' Then she made herself known to him and he knew her for his wife, the Lady Budour, daughter of King Ghaïour. So he embraced her and she embraced him and they kissed each other; then they lay down on the bed of delight, repeating the words of the poet:

Whenas the softness of a shape did bid him to my arms, That, as
     it were a trailing vine with twinings did him ply
And on the hardness of his heart its very softness shed, He
     yielded, though at first he feigned reluctance to comply,
And came, provided with a stock of caution safe and sure, Fearing
     lest, when he did appear, the railers should him spy.
His waist of buttocks maketh moan, that lay upon his feet A very
     camel's load, what time he would a-walking hie.
Girt with his glances' trenchant swords and cuirassed with the
     mail Of his bright locks, as 'twere the dusk new fallen from
     the sky,
His fragrance brought me from afar the news of his approach, And
     forth, as bird let out from cage, to meet my love fled I.
I laid my cheek within his way, beneath his sandal-soles, And lo,
     their dust's collyrium healed the ailment of mine eye!
With an embrace I hoisted up the flag of loves new linked And
     loosed the knot of my delight, that made as 'twould deny.
Then let I call high festival, and gladness, all unmixed With any
     thought of troublousness, came flocking in reply.
The full moon handselled with the stars the teeth, like grains of
     pearl, That on the laughing face of wine now dance, now
     stirless lie.
So in the niche of their delight I gave me up to joys, The
     veriest sinner would repent if he their like might try.
The morning-glories of his face be pledge I'll ne'er, in him,
     Forget the writ that biddeth us One only glorify![FN#59]

Then they told one another all that had befallen them since their separation, after which he began to upbraid her, saying, 'What moved thee to deal with me as thou hast done this night?' 'Do not reproach me,' replied she; 'for I did this but by way of jest and for increase of pleasure and gladness.' When it was morning and the day arose with its light and shone, she sent to King Armanous and acquainted him with the truth of the case and that she was wife to Kemerezzeman. Moreover, she told him their story and the manner of their separation and how his daughter Heyat en Nufous was yet a maid. He marvelled greatly at their story and bade record it in letters of gold. Then he turned to Kemerezzeman and said, 'O king's son, art thou minded to marry my daughter and become my son-in-law?' 'I must consult the princess Budour,' answered he; 'for I owe her favour without stint.' So he took counsel with her and she said, 'This is well seen; marry her and I will be her handmaid, for I am her debtor for kindness and favour and good offices, more by token that we are here in her place and that the king her father has loaded us with benefits.' When he saw that she inclined to this and was not jealous of Heyat en Nufous, he agreed with her thereupon and told King Armanous what she had said, whereat he rejoiced greatly. Then he went out and seating himself in his chair of estate, assembled all the Viziers and Amirs and chamberlains and grandees, to whom he related the whole story and acquainted them with his desire to marry his daughter to Kemerezzeman and make him king in the stead of the princess Budour. Whereupon said they all, 'Since he is the husband of the princess Budour, who hath been our Sultan till now, whilst we deemed her King Armanous's son-in-law, we are all content to have him to Sultan over us and will be his servants, nor will we swerve from his allegiance.' At this Armanous rejoiced and summoning Cadis and witnesses and the chief officers of state, let draw up the contract of marriage between Kemerezzeman and his daughter, the princess Heyat en Nufous. Then he held high festival, giving sumptuous banquets and bestowing costly dresses of honour upon the Amirs and captains; moreover, he gave alms to the poor and needy and freed the prisoners. All the folk rejoiced in the coming of Kemerezzeman to the throne, wishing him abiding glory and prosperity and happiness and renown, and as soon as he became king, he remitted the customs-dues and released all that remained in prison. Thus he abode a long while, ordering himself worthily towards his subjects, and lived with his wives in peace and happiness and content, lying the night with each of them in turn. And indeed all his troubles and afflictions were blotted out from him and he forgot his father King Shehriman and his former estate of honour and worship with him.

After awhile, God the Most High blessed him with two sons, as they were two shining moons, the elder, whose name was prince Amjed, by Queen Budour, and the younger, whose name was prince Asaad and who was comelier than his brother, by Queen Heyat en Nufous. They were reared in splendour and delight and were instructed in penmanship and science and the arts of government and horsemanship and other polite arts and accomplishments, till they attained the extreme of perfection and the utmost limit of beauty and grace, and both men and women were ravished by their charms. They grew up together, till they reached the age of seventeen, and loved one another so dear that they were never apart, eating and drinking together and sleeping in one bed; and all the people envied them their beauty and concord. When they came to man's estate and were endowed with every perfection, their father was wont, as often as he went on a journey, to make them sit in his stead by turns in the place of judgment, and each did justice among the folk one day at a time. Now, as unalterable fate and foreordained destiny would have it, Queen Budour fell in love with Asaad, son of Queen Heyat en Nufous, and the latter became enamoured of Amjed; and each of them used to sport and play with the other's son, kissing him and straining him to her bosom, whilst each thought that the other's behaviour arose but from motherly affection. On this wise, passion got the mastery of the two women's hearts and they became madly enamoured of the two youths, so that when the other's son came in to either of them, she would press him to her bosom and long for him never to be parted from her; till, at last, when waiting grew tedious to them and they found no way to enjoyment, they refused meat and drink and forewent the solace of sleep. Presently, the King went out to hunt, bidding his sons sit to do justice in his stead, each one day in turn, according to their wont. So prince Amjed sat on the throne the first day, ordering and forbidding, appointing and deposing, giving and denying; and Queen Heyat en Nufous took a scroll and wrote to him the following letter, suing for his favour and discovering to him her passion, in fine, altogether putting off the mask and giving him to know that she desired to enjoy him. 'From the wretched lover, the sorrowful severed one, whose youth is wasted in the love of thee and whose torment for thee is prolonged. Were I to recount to thee the extent of my affliction and what I suffer for sadness, the passion that is in my breast and all that I endure for weeping and groaning and the rending of my sorrowful heart, my unremitting cares and my ceaseless griefs and all my suffering for severance and sadness and the ardour of desire, no letter could contain it nor calculation compass it. Indeed, earth and heaven are straitened upon me, and I have no hope and no trust but in thee. I am come nigh upon death and suffer the horrors of dissolution; burning is sore upon me, and the pangs of separation and estrangement. Were I to set out the yearnings that possess me, no scrolls would suffice thereto: and of the excess of my affliction and wasting away, I have made the following verses:

Were I to set down all I feel of heart-consuming dole And all the
     transport and unease that harbour in my soul,
Nor ink nor pen in all the world thereafter would remain, Nor
     aught from east to west were left of paper or of scroll.'

Then she folded up the silken tresses of her hair, whose cost swallowed up treasures, in the letter, and wrapping it in a piece of rich silk, scented with musk and ambergris, laid it in a handkerchief; after which she gave it to an eunuch and bade him carry it to prince Amjed. The eunuch took it, knowing not what the future hid for him, (for He who knoweth the hidden things ordereth events according to His will,) and going in to the prince, kissed the earth before him and gave him the letter. He opened it and reading it, was ware that his father's wife was in intent an adulteress and a traitress to her husband; whereat he was exceeding wroth and railed at women and their works, saying, 'May God curse women, the traitresses, that lack reason and religion!' Then he drew his sword and said to the eunuch, 'Out on thee, thou wicked slave! Dost thou carry adulterous messages for thy lord's wife? By Allah, there is no good in thee, O black of hue and heart, O foul of face and nature!' So saying, he smote him on the neck and severed his head from his body; then, folding the letter in the handkerchief, he thrust it into his pocket and went in to his own mother and told her what had passed, reviling and reproaching her and saying, 'Each one of you is worse than the other; and by God the Great, did I not fear to transgress against the rights of my father and my brother Asaad, I would assuredly go in to her and cut off her head, even as I cut off that of her eunuch!' Then he went out in a great rage; and when the news reached Queen Heyat en Nufous of what he had done with her messenger, she reviled him and cursed him and plotted perfidy against him. He passed the night, sick with anger and disgust and concern, nor was meat nor drink nor sleep sweet to him. Next morning, prince Asaad went out in his turn to rule the folk in his father's stead and sat in the audience-chamber, judging and administering justice, appointing and deposing, ordering and forbidding, giving and bestowing, till near the time of afternoon-prayer, when Queen Budour sent for a crafty old woman and discovering to her what was in her heart, wrote a letter to prince Asaad, complaining of the excess of her love and longing for him, as follows: 'From her who perisheth for passion and love-longing to the goodliest of mankind in form and nature, him who is conceited of his own loveliness and glories in his amorous grace, who turneth away from those that seek to enjoy him and refuseth to show favour unto the lowly and the self-abasing, him who is cruel and disdainful; from the despairing lover to prince Asaad, lord of surpassing beauty and excelling grace, of the moon-bright face and the flower-white brow and dazzling splendour. This is my letter to him whose love consumes my body and rends my skin and my bones. Know that my patience fails me and I am at a loss what to do: longing and wakefulness weary me and sleep and patience deny themselves to me; but mourning and watching stick fast to me and desire and passion torment me, and the extremes of languor and sickness. Yet may my life be thy ransom, though it be thy pleasure to slay her who loveth thee, and may God prolong thy life and preserve thee from every ill!' After this, she wrote the following verses:

Fate hath so ordered it that I must needs thy lover be, O thou
     whose charms shine as the moon, when at the full is she!
All beauty and all eloquence thou dost in thee contain And over
     all the world of men thou'rt bright and brave to see.
That thou my torturer shouldst be, I am indeed content, So but
     thou wilt one glance bestow, as almous-deed, on me.
Happy, thrice happy is her lot who dieth for thy love! No good is
     there in any one that doth not cherish thee.

And these also:

To thee, O Asaad, of the pangs of passion I complain; Have pity
     on a slave of love, that burns for longing pain.
How long, I wonder, shall the hands of passion sport with me And
     love and dole and sleeplessness consume me, heart and brain?
Whiles do I plain me of a sea within my heart and whiles Of
     flaming; surely, this is strange, O thou my wish and bane!
Give o'er thy railing, censor mine, and set thyself to flee From
     love that maketh eyes for aye with burning tears to rain.
How oft, for absence and desire, I cry, "Alas, my grief!" But all
     my crying and lament in this my case are vain.
Thou hast with rigours made me sick, that passed my power to
     bear: Thou'rt the physician; do thou me with what befits
     assain.
O thou my censurer, forbear to chide me for my case, Lest, of
     Love's cruel malady, perdition thee attain.

Then she scented the letter with odoriferous musk and winding it in the tresses of her hair, which were of Irak silk, with tassels of oblong emeralds, set with pearls and jewels, delivered it to the old woman, bidding her carry it to prince Asaad. She undertook the errand, to pleasure her, and going in straightway to the prince, found him in his closet and delivered him the letter; after which she stood waiting for the answer. When Asaad had read the letter and knew its purport, he wrapped it up again in the tresses and put it in his pocket, cursing false women; then, for he was beyond measure wroth, he sprang up and drawing his sword, smote the old woman on the neck and cut off her head. Then he went in to his mother, Queen Heyat en Nufous, whom he found lying on her bed, sick for that which had betided her with prince Amjed, and railed at her and cursed her; after which he left her and betook himself to his brother, to whom he related what had befallen him with Queen Budour, adding, 'By Allah, O my brother, but that I feared to grieve thee, I had gone in to her forthright and smitten her head off her shoulders!' 'By Allah, O my brother,' replied Amjed, 'the like of what hath befallen thee befell me also yesterday with thy mother Queen Heyat en Nufous.' And he told him what had passed, adding, 'By Allah, O my brother, nought but respect for thee withheld me from going in to her and dealing with her even as I dealt with the eunuch!' They passed the rest of the night in trouble and affliction, conversing and cursing false women, and agreed to keep the matter secret, lest their father should hear of it and kill the two women.

On the morrow, the King returned with his suite from hunting and sat awhile in his chair of estate; after which he dismissed the Amirs and went up to his harem, where he found his two wives lying on the bed, exceeding sick. Now they had made a plot against the two princes and concerted to do away their lives, for that they had exposed themselves before them and feared to be at their mercy. When Kemerezzeman saw them on this wise, he said to them, 'What ails you?' Whereupon they rose and kissing his hands, answered, perverting the case and saying, 'Know, O King, that thy sons, who have been reared in thy bounty, have played thee false and outraged thee in the persons of thy wives.' When he heard this, the light in his eyes became darkness and his reason fled for the excess of his rage; then said he to them, 'Expound this thing to me.' 'O King of the age,' answered Budour, 'know that these many days past thy son Asaad has been wont to send me letters and messages to solicit me to lewdness, and I still forbade him from this, but he would not be forbidden. When thou wentest forth to hunt, he rushed in on me, drunk and with a drawn sword in his hand, and smiting my eunuch, slew him. Then he mounted on my breast, still holding the sword, and I feared lest he should slay me even as he had slain my eunuch, if I gainsaid him; so he took his will of me by force; and now an thou do me not justice on him, O King, I will slay myself with my own hand, for I reck not of life in the world after this foul deed.' Queen Heyat en Nufous, choking with tears, told him a like story respecting prince Amjed, after which she fell a- weeping and wailing and said, 'Except thou avenge me on him, I will tell my father, King Armanous.' Then they both wept sore before King Kemerezzeman, who, when he saw their tears and heard their words, concluded that their story was true and waxing beyond measure wroth, went out, thinking to fall upon his two sons and put them to death. On his way he met his father-in-law King Armanous, who hearing of his return from the chase, had come to salute him and seeing him with the naked sword in his hand and the blood dripping from his nostrils, for excess of rage, enquired what ailed him. Kemerezzeman told him what his sons Amjed and Asaad had done and added, 'I am now going in to them, to slay them on the foulest wise and make of them the most shameful of examples.' 'O my son,' said King Armanous, (and indeed he too was wroth with them,) 'thou dost well, and may God not bless them nor any sons that offend thus against their father's honour! But, O my son, the proverb says, "Whoso looks not to the issues, Fortune is no friend to him." In any case, they are thy sons, and it befits not that thou put them to death with thine own hand, lest thou drink of their agony and after repent of having slain them, whenas repentance will avail thee nothing. Rather do thou send one of thine officers with them into the desert and let him kill them there, out of thy sight, for, as says the adage, "When the eye sees not, the heart grieves not."' Kemerezzeman saw his father-in-law's words to be just, so he sheathed his sword and turning back, sat down upon his throne and called his treasurer, a very old man, versed in affairs and in the shifts of fortune, to whom he said, 'Go in to my sons Amjed and Asaad; bind fast their hands behind them and lay them in two chests and set them on a mule. Then take horse and carry them into the mid-desert, where do thou put them to death and fill two vials with their blood and bring them to me in haste.' 'I hear and obey,' answered the treasurer and went out forthright to do his bidding. On his way, he met the princes coming out of the palace-vestibule, for they had donned their richest clothes and were on their way to salute their father and give him joy of his safe return from the chase. When he saw them, he laid hands on them, saying, 'O my sons, know that I am but a slave commanded and that your father hath laid a commandment on me: will ye obey his commandment?' 'Yes,' answered they; whereupon he bound their hands and laying them in the chests, set the latter on the back of a mule, with which he left the city and rode into the open country, till near midday, when he halted in a waste and desert spot and dismounting, set down the two chests. He opened them and took out Amjed and Asaad; whom when he saw, he wept sore for their beauty and grace; then drawing his sword, he said to them, 'O my lords, indeed it irks me to deal so foully by you; but I am to be excused in this, being but a slave commanded, for that your father King Kemerezzeman hath bidden me strike off your heads.' 'O Amir,' answered they, 'do the King's bidding, for we submit with patience to that which God (to whom be ascribed might and majesty) hath decreed to us; and thou art quit of our blood.' Then they embraced and bade each other farewell, and Asaad said to the treasurer, 'God on thee, O uncle, spare me the sight of my brother's agony and make me not drink of his anguish, but kill me first, that it may be the easier for me.' Amjed said the like and entreated the treasurer to kill him before Asaad, saying, 'My brother is younger than I; so make me not taste of his anguish.' And they both wept sore, whilst the treasurer wept for their weeping, and they said to each other, 'All this comes of the malice of those traitresses, our mothers; and this is the reward of our forbearance towards them. But there is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme! Verily, we are His and unto Him we return.' And Asaad embraced his brother, sobbing and repeating the following verses:

O Thou to whom the sad complain, to whom the fearful flee, Thou
     that art evermore prepared for all that is to be,
Lord, there is left me no resource but at Thy door to knock; Yea,
     at whose portal shall I knock, if Thou be deaf to me?
O Thou, the treasures of whose grace are in the one word "Be," Be
     favourable, I beseech, for all good is with Thee!

When Amjed heard his brother's weeping, he wept also and pressed him to his bosom, repeating the following verses:

O Thou, whose bounties unto me are more than one, I trow, Whose
     favours lavished on my head are countless as the sand,
No blow of all the blows of fate has ever fall'n on me, But I
     have found Thee ready still to take me by the hand.

Then said he to the treasurer, 'I conjure thee by the One God the Omnipotent King and Protector, kill me before my brother Asaad and allay the fire of my heart!' But Asaad wept and exclaimed, 'Not so: I will die first;' whereupon said Amjed, 'It were best that we embrace each other, so the sword may fall upon us and kill us both at one stroke.' So they embraced, face to face, and clipped each other straitly, whilst the treasurer bound them fast with cords, weeping the while. Then he drew his sword and said to them, 'By Allah, O my lords, it is indeed hard to me to kill you! But have ye no last wishes or injunctions that I may fulfil or message that I may carry?' 'We have no wish,' replied Amjed, 'and my only injunction to thee is that thou set my brother undermost, that the blow may fall on me first; and when thou hast slain us and returnest to the King and he asks thee, "What said they before their death?" do thou answer, "Thy sons salute thee and say to thee, 'Thou knewest not if we were innocent or guilty, yet hast thou put us to death and hast not certified thyself of our guilt nor looked into our case.'" Then do thou repeat to him these verses:

Women are very devils, made to work us dole and death; Refuge I
     seek with God Most High from all their craft and scaith.
Prime source are they of all the ills that fall upon mankind,
     Both in the fortunes of this world and matters of the faith.

'We desire of thee nought but this,' continued Amjed, 'except that thou have patience with us, whilst I repeat other two lines to my brother.' Then he wept sore and recited the following verses:

Examples many, thou and I, We have in kings of days gone by, How many, alack, have trod this road, Of great and small and low and high!

At this the treasurer wept, till his beard was wet, whilst Asaad's eyes filled with tears and he in turn repeated these verses:

Fate, when the thing itself is past, afflicteth with the trace,
     And weeping is not, of a truth, for body or form or
     face.[FN#60]
What ails the nights?[FN#61] May God blot out our error from the
     nights And may the hand of change bewray and bring them to
     disgrace!
They wreaked their malice to the full on Ibn ez Zubeir[FN#62]
     erst, And on the House and Sacred Stone[FN#63] his safeguard
     did embrace.
Would God, since Kharijeh[FN#64] they took for Amrou's sacrifice,
     They'd ransomed Ali with whome'er they would of all our
     race!

Then, with cheeks stained with thick-coming tears, he recited these also:

The days and nights are fashioned for treachery and despite; Yea,
     they are full of perfidy and knavish craft and sleight.
The mirage is their lustre of teeth, and to their eyes The horror
     of all darkness the kohl that keeps them bright.
My crime against them (hateful their nature is!) is but The
     sword's crime, when the sworder sets on into the fight.

Then he sobbed and said:

O thou that seeketh the worthless world, give ear to me and know
     The very net of ruin it is and quarry of dole and woe;
A stead, whom it maketh laugh to-day, to-morrow it maketh weep:
     Out on it then for a dwelling-place, since it is even so!
Its raids and its onsets are never done, nor can its bondsman win
     To free himself from its iron clutch by dint of stress and
     throe.
How many an one in its vanities hath gloried and taken pride,
     Till froward and arrogant thus he grew and did all bounds
     o'ergo!
Then did she[FN#65] turn him the buckler's back and give him to
     drink therein Full measure and set her to take her wreak of
     the favours she did show.
For know that her blows fall sudden and swift and unawares,
     though long The time of forbearance be and halt the coming
     of fate and slow.
So look to thyself, lest life in the world pass idle and
     profitless by, And see that thou fail not of taking thought
     to the end of all below.
Cast loose from the chains of the love and the wish of the world
     and thou shalt find Guidance and help unto righteousness and
     peace of heart, I trow.

When he had made an end of these verses, he clipped his brother in his arms, till they seemed as it were one body, and the treasurer, raising his sword, was about to strike them, when, behold, his horse took fright at the wind of his upraised hand and breaking its tether, fled into the desert. Now the horse was worth a thousand dinars and on his back was a splendid saddle, worth much money: so the treasurer threw down his sword, in great concern, and ran after him, to catch him. The horse galloped on, snorting and neighing and pawing the earth in his fright, till he raised a cloud of dust, and presently coming to a wood, fled into the midst of it, whither the treasurer followed him. Now there was in this wood a terrible lion, foul of face, with eyes that cast forth sparks; his look was grim and his aspect struck terror into men's souls. He heard the noise made by the horse and came out to see what was to do. Presently the treasurer turned and saw the lion making towards him; but found no way of escape, nor had he his sword with him. So he said in himself, 'There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme! This stress is come upon me because of Amjed and Asaad; and indeed this journey was unblest from the first!' Meanwhile Amjed and Asaad were grievously oppressed by the heat and grew sore athirst, so that their tongues hung out and they cried for succour; but none came to their relief and they said, 'Would God we were dead and at peace from this torment! But we know not whither the treasurer's horse hath fled, that he has gone and left us bound. If he would but come back and kill us, it were easier to us than to suffer this torture.' 'O my brother,' said Asaad, 'be patient and the relief of God (blessed and exalted be He) will surely come to us; for the horse ran not away save of His favour towards us, and nought irks us but this thirst.' So saying, he stretched himself and strained right and left, till he burst his bonds; then he unbound his brother and taking up the Amir's sword, said, 'By Allah, we will not go hence, till we know what is come of him!' So they followed the track, till it led them to the wood and they said to one another, 'Of a surety, the horse and the treasurer have not overgone this wood.' Quoth Asaad, 'Stay thou here, whilst I enter the wood and search it.' 'I will not let thee go in alone,' answered Amjed. 'We will both go in; so if we escape, we shall escape together, and if we perish, we shall perish together.' So they entered both and found the lion standing over the treasurer, who lay like a sparrow in his grip, calling upon God for help and lifting his hands to heaven. When Amjed saw this, he took the sword and running to the lion, smote him between the eyes and laid him dead on the ground. The Amir arose, marvelling at this, and seeing Amjed and Asaad his lord's sons, standing there, cast himself at their feet and exclaimed, 'By Allah, O my lords, it were foul wrong in me to put you to death! May the man never be who would kill you! Indeed, I will ransom you with my life.' Then he rose and embracing them, enquired how they had loosed their bonds and come thither, whereupon they told him how the bonds of one of them had fallen loose and he had unbound the other, that they might quit their intent, and how they had followed his track till they came upon him. He thanked them for their deed and went with them forth of the wood, where they said to him, 'O uncle, do our father's bidding.' 'God forbid,' answered he, 'that I should draw near to you with hurt! I mean to take your clothes and clothe you with mine; then will I fill two vials with the lion's blood and go back to the King and tell him I have put you to death. But as for you, fare ye forth into the lands, for God's earth is wide; and know, O my lords, that it irks me to part from you.' At this, they all fell a-weeping; then the two youths put off their clothes and the treasurer covered them with his own. Moreover, he filled two vials with the lion's blood and making two parcels of the princes' clothes, set them before him on his horse's back. Then he took leave of them and making his way back to the city, went in to King Kemerezzeman and kissed the earth before him. The King saw him pale and troubled and deeming this came of the slaughter of the two princes (though in truth it came of his adventure with the lion) rejoiced and said to him, 'Hast thou done the business?' 'Yes, O our lord,' answered the treasurer and gave him the two parcels of clothes and the two vials of blood. 'How bore they themselves,' asked the King, 'and did they give thee any charge?' 'I found them patient and resigned to their fate,' answered the treasurer; 'and they said to me, "Verily, our father is excusable; bear him our salutation and say to him, 'Thou art quit of our blood;' and repeat to him the following verses:

Women are very devils, made to work us dole and death; Refuge I
     seek with God Most High from all their craft and scaith.
Prime source are they of all the ills that fall upon mankind,
     Both in the fortunes of this world and matters of the
     faith."'

When the King heard this, he bowed his head a long while and knew this to mean that they had wrongfully been put to death. Then he bethought himself of the perfidy of women and the calamities brought about by them, and opening the two parcels fell to turning over his sons' clothes and weeping. Presently, he found in the pocket of his son Asaad's clothes a letter in Queen Budour's hand, enclosing the tresses of her hair, and reading it, knew that the prince had been falsely accused. Then he searched Amjed's clothes and found in his pocket a letter in the handwriting of Queen Heyat en Nufous, enclosing the tresses of her hair; so he opened and read it and knew that Amjed also had been wronged; whereupon he beat hand upon hand and exclaimed, 'There is no power and no virtue but in God! I have slain my sons unjustly.' And he buffeted his face, crying out, 'Alas, my sons! Alas, my long grief!' Then he bade build two tombs in one house, which he styled 'House of Lamentations,' and let grave thereon his sons' names; and he threw himself on Amjed's tomb, weeping and groaning and lamenting, and repeated these verses:

O moon, that hast set beneath the earth for aye, For whose loss
     weep the shining stars of the sky,
O wand, after whom no more shall the flexile grace Of the
     willow-like bending shape enchant the eye,
My sight I've bereft of thee, of my jealousy, And ne'er shall I
     see thee again, till I come to die.
I'm drowned in the sea of my tears, for sheer unrest; Indeed, for
     sleepless sorrow in hell am I.

Then he threw himself on Asaad's tomb and recited the following verses, whilst the tears poured from his eyes:

Fain had I shared with thee, dear heart, in death and ill; But
     God, that ordereth all, willed other than my will.
All that I see, my dole makes black, whilst from my eyes All
     black I've blotted out with weeping all my fill.[FN#66]
I weep and never stint; mine eyes run never dry; My entrails
     ulcered are and blood and tears distil.
Sore, sore it irketh me to see thee in a place[FN#67] Where
     slaves and kings alike foregather, will or nill.

Then he forsook his friends and intimates, and denying himself to his women and his family, shut himself up in the House of Lamentations, where he passed his time in weeping for his sons.

Meanwhile, Amjed and Asaad fared on into the desert a whole month's journey, eating of the fruits of the earth and drinking of the rain-pools, till their travel brought them to a mountain of black stone, where the road divided in two, one skirting the foot of the mountain and the other leading to its summit. They took the former way, for fear of thirst, and followed it five days, but saw no end to it and were overcome with weariness, being unused to walking in mountains or elsewhere. At last, despairing of coming to the end of the road, they retraced their steps and taking the other, that led over the mountain, followed it all that day, till nightfall, when Asaad, weary with much travel, said to Amjed, 'O my brother, I can go no farther, for I am exceeding weak.' 'Courage,' replied Amjed; 'may be God will send us relief.' So they walked on part of the night, till the darkness closed in upon them, when Asaad became beyond measure weary and saying, 'O my brother, I am worn out and spent with walking,' threw himself on the ground and wept. Amjed took him in his arms and fared on with him, halting bytimes to rest, till break of day, when they came to the mountain-top and found there a stream of running water and by it a pomegranate-tree and a prayer-niche. They could hardly believe their eyes, but, sitting down by the spring, drank of its water and ate of the fruit of the tree; after which they lay down and slept till sunrise, when they washed in the spring and eating of the pomegranates, slept again till the time of afternoon-prayer. Then they thought to continue their journey, but Asaad could not walk, for his feet were swollen. So they abode there three days, till they were rested, after which they set out again and fared on over the mountain days and nights, well-nigh perished for thirst, till they came in sight of a city afar off, at which they rejoiced and made towards it. When they drew near it, they thanked God the Most High and Amjed said to Asaad, 'O my brother, sit here, whilst I go to yonder city and see what and whose it is and where we are in God's wide world, that we may know through what lands we have passed in crossing this mountain, whose skirts if we had followed, we had not reached this city in a whole year: so praised be God for safety!' 'By Allah,' replied Asaad, 'none shall go but myself, and may I be thy ransom! If thou leave me, I shall imagine a thousand things and suffer tortures of anxiety on thine account, for I cannot brook thine absence from me.' 'Go then,' rejoined Amjed, 'and do not tarry.' So Asaad took money and leaving his brother awaiting him, descended the mountain and fared on, till he entered the city. As he passed through the streets, he met an old man, with a beard that flowed down upon his breast and was parted in twain; he bore a walking-staff in his hand and was richly clad, with a great red turban on his head. When Asaad saw him, he wondered at his mien and habit; nevertheless, he went up to him and saluting him, enquired the way to the market. The old man smiled in his face and said, 'O my son, meseems thou art a stranger?' 'Yes,' answered Asaad; 'I am a stranger.' 'O my son,' rejoined the other, 'verily, thou gladdenest our country with thy presence and makest thine own land desolate by reason of thine absence. What wantest thou of the market?' 'O uncle,' replied Asaad, 'I have an elder brother, with whom I have journeyed these three months, for we come from a far country. When we sighted this city, I left my brother in the mountain and came hither, purposing to buy food and what else and return therewith to him, that we might feed thereon.' 'Rejoice in all good, O my son!' said the old man. 'Know that to-day I give a marriage-feast, to which I have bidden many guests, and I have made ready great plenty of the best and most delicious meats that the heart can desire. So, if thou wilt come home with me, I will give thee freely all thou lackest, without price. Moreover, I will teach thee the ways of the city; and praised be God, O my son, that thou hast fallen in with me and none other!' 'As thou wilt,' answered Asaad; 'but make haste, for my brother awaits me and his whole heart is with me.' So the old man took Asaad by the hand, smiling in his face and saying, 'Glory be to Him who hath delivered thee from the people of this city!' Then he carried him to a narrow lane and entering a spacious house, brought him into a saloon, wherein were forty old men, seated in a circle about a lighted fire, to which they were doing worship and prostrating themselves. When Asaad saw this he was confounded and his flesh quaked, though he knew not what they were; and the old man said to them, 'O elders of the fire, how blessed is this day!' Then he cried out, saying, 'Ho, Ghezban!' Whereupon there came out to him a tall black slave of forbidding aspect, grim-visaged and flat-nosed. The old man made a sign to him, and he bound Asaad straitly; after which the old man said to him, 'Bear him to the dungeon under the earth and bid my slave-girl Kewam torture him day and night and give him a cake of bread to eat morning and evening, against the time come of the voyage to the Blue Sea and the Mountain of Fire, when we will slaughter him on the mountain as a sacrifice.' So the black carried him out at another door and raising a flag in the floor, discovered a flight of twenty steps leading to a chamber under the earth, into which he descended with him and laying his feet in irons, committed him to the slave-girl and went away. Meanwhile, the old men said to one another, 'When the day of the Festival of the Fire comes, we will sacrifice him on the mountain, as a propitiatory offering to the Fire.' Presently the damsel went down to him and beat him grievously, till the blood streamed from his sides and he fainted away; after which she set at his head a cake of bread and a cruse of brackish water and went away and left him. In the middle of the night, he revived and found himself bound and sore with beating: so he wept bitterly and recalling his former estate of ease and honour and lordship and dominion, groaned and lamented and repeated the following verses:

Halt by the ruins of the house and question of our fate Nor think
     we sojourn in the land, as in our first estate.
Fortune, the sunderer, hath wrought the severance of our loves;
     Yet doth our enemies' despite against us nought abate.
A filthy cockatrice is set to torture me with whips, Whose breast
     against me is fulfilled with rancour and with hate.
But haply God shall yet reknit our severed loves again And turn
     our enemies from us with vengeance stern and strait.

Then he put out his hand and finding the bread and water at his head, ate enough to keep life in him and drank a little water, but could get no sleep for the swarms of bugs and lice. As soon as it was day, the slave-girl came down to him and changed his clothes, which were drenched with blood and stuck to him, so that his skin came off with the shirt; wherefore he shrieked aloud and cried, 'Alas!' and said, 'O my God, if this be Thy pleasure, increase it upon me! O Lord, verily Thou art not unmindful of him that oppresses me: do Thou then avenge me upon him!' And he groaned and repeated the following verses:

Lord, I submit myself to that Thou dost decree, Contented to
     endure, if but it pleasure Thee;
To suffer at Thy will with patience nor complain, Though I be
     cast to burn on coals of tamarisk-tree.[FN#68]
Mine enemies oppress and torture me; but Thou With benefits
     belike shall 'quite and comfort me.
Far be 't from Thee to let th' oppressor go unscathed; Thou art
     my hope and stay, O Lord of Destiny!

And what another says:

Avert thy face from thought-taking and care And trust to fate to
     order thine affair;
For many a weary and a troublous thing Is, in its issue,
     solaceful and fair.
That which was strait is oftentimes made wide And straitened
     that, which easy was whilere.
God orders all, according to His will; Gainsay Him not in what He
     doth prepare,
But trust in happy fortune near at hand, Wherein thou shalt
     forget the woes that were.

Then the slave-girl beat him till he fainted away and throwing him a cake of bread and a cruse of brackish water, went away and left him sad and lonely, bound in chains of iron, with the blood streaming from his sides and far from those he loved. So he called to mind his brother and his former high estate and repeated the following verses, shedding floods of tears the while:

How long wilt thou wage war on me, O Fate, and bear away My
     brethren from me? Hold thy hand and spare awhile, I pray!
Is it not time, O thou whose heart is as the rock, that thou My
     long estrangement and my dole shouldst pity and allay?
Ill hast thou wrought to those I love and made my foes exult With
     all that thou hast wreaked on me of ruin and dismay.
Yea, for the pains he sees me brook of exile and desire And
     loneliness, my foeman's heart is solaceful and gay.
Thou'rt not content with what is fallen on me of bitter dole, Of
     loss of friends and swollen eyes, affliction and affray.
But I must lie and rot, to boot, in prison strait and dour, Where
     nought but gnawing of my hands I have for help and stay,
And tears that shower in torrents down, as from the rain-charged
     clouds, And fire of yearning, never quenched, that rages
     night and day,
And memory and longing pain and melancholy thought And sobs and
     sighs and groans and cries of "Woe!" and "Wellaway!"
Passion and soul-destroying grief I suffer, and unto Desire, that
     knoweth not relent nor end, am fallen a prey.
No kindly soul is found to have compassion on my case And with
     his visits and his grace my misery allay.
Lives there a true and tender friend, who doth compassionate My
     sickness and my long unrest, that unto him I may
Make moan of all that I endure for dole and drearihead And of my
     sleepless eyes, oppressed of wakefulness alway?
My night in torments is prolonged; I burn, without reprieve, In
     flames of heart-consuming care that rage in me for aye.
The bug and flea do drink my blood, even as one drinks of wine,
     Poured by the hand of damask-lipped and slender-waisted may.
The body of me, amongst the lice, is as an orphan's good, That in
     an unjust Cadi's hands doth dwindle and decay.
My dwelling-place is in a tomb, three scanty cubits wide, Wherein
     in shackles and in bonds I languish night and day.
My tears my wine are and my chains my music: my dessert Woeworthy
     thought and cares the bed whereon myself I lay.

Meanwhile his brother abode, awaiting him, till mid-day, but he returned not: whereupon Amjed's heart fluttered and the tears welled from his eyes. The pangs of severance were sore upon him and he wept sore, exclaiming, 'Alas, my brother! Alas, my companion! Alas, my grief! I fear me we are separated!' Then he descended the mountain, with the tears running down his cheeks, and entering the city, made for the market. He asked the folk the name of the city and of its people, and they said, 'This is called the City of the Magians, and its people serve the Fire, not the Omnipotent King.' Then he enquired of the City of Ebony and they answered, 'It is a year's journey thither by land and six months' by sea: it was governed erst by a King called Armanous, but he took to son-in-law a prince called Kemerezzeman, distinguished for justice and loyalty, munificence and benevolence, and made him king in his stead.' When Amjed heard tell of his father, he groaned and wept and lamented and knew not whither to go. However, he bought food and carried it with him, till he came to a retired spot, where he sat down, thinking to eat: but, recalling his brother, he fell a-weeping and ate but a morsel to stay his stomach, and that against his will. Then he rose and walked about the city, seeking news of his brother, till he saw a Muslim, a tailor, sitting in his shop; so he sat down by him and told him his story; whereupon quoth the tailor, 'If he have fallen into the hands of any of the Magians, thou shalt hardly see him again: yet it may be God will reunite you. But thou, O my brother,' added he, 'wilt thou lodge with me?' 'Yes,' answered Amjed, and the tailor rejoiced at this. So Amjed abode with him many days, what while the tailor comforted him and exhorted him to patience and taught him his craft, till he became expert. One day, he went forth to the sea-shore and washed his clothes; after which he entered the bath and put on clean raiment. Then he walked about the streets, to divert himself, and presently fell in with a woman of surpassing beauty and symmetry, unequalled for grace and loveliness. When she saw him, she raised her face-veil and winked to him and ogled him, reciting the following verses:

Afar, I saw thee coming and cast mine eyes down straight, As if,
     loveling slender, thou wert the very sun.
Indeed, thou art the fairest of all beholden; yea, Even than
     thyself thou'rt fairer, since yesterday was done.
Were beauty but allotted, to every one his due, One-fifth of it
     were Joseph's or but a part of one,
And all the rest were surely thine own and only thine; May all
     men be thy ransom, yea, every mother's son!

When he heard this, his heart inclined to her and the hands of love sported with him: so he winked to her in answer and repeated the following verses:

Over the rose of the cheek, the thorns of the eyelashes rise; So
     who shall adventure himself to gather the flowery prize?
Lift not your hands to the rose, for long have the lashes waged
     war And poured on us battle, because we lifted to it-ward
     our eyes.
Tell her the tyrant who plays and yet is temptation itself,
     (Though still more seductive she'd be, if she dealt but in
     loyaller wise),
I see that, for beauty like thine, exposure's the surest of
     guards, For the veiling thy face but augments its seductions
     and adds to our sighs;
Like the sun, on whose visage undimmed the eye still refuses to
     look, And yet we may gaze at our ease, when the thinnest of
     clouds o'er it lies.
The honey's protected, forsooth, by the sting of the bees of the
     hive: So question the guards of the camp why they stay us in
     this our emprise.
If my slaughter be what they desire, let them put off their
     rancours and stand From between us and leave her to deal
     with me and my life at her guise;
For, I wot, not so deadly are they, when they set on a foe with
     their swords, As the eyes of the fair with the mole, when
     her glances upon us she plies.

At this she sighed deeply and signing to him again, repeated the following verses:

'Tis thou that hast trodden the road of aversion and coyness; not
     I Vouchsafe me the promised delight, for the time of
     fulfilment draws nigh.
O thou that mak'st morning to dawn with the lustre and light of
     thy brows And eke, with thy brow-locks unloosed, the night
     to sink down from the sky,
Thou hast, with an idol's aspéct, seduced me and made me thy
     slave And hast stirred me up troubles galore in many a
     season past by.
And yet it is just that my heart with the ardour of passion
     should burn, For the fire is their due who adore aught other
     than God the Most High.
Thou sellest the like of myself for nothing, yea, free, without
     price; If needs thou must sell, and no help, take a price,
     then, of those that would buy.

When he heard this, he said to her, 'Wilt thou come to my lodging or shall I go with thee to thine?' At this, she hung her head bashfully and repeated the words of the Most High, 'Men shall have precedence over women, for that God hath preferred these over those.'[FN#69] By this, Amjed understood that she wished to go with him and felt himself bounden to find a place wherein to receive her, but was ashamed to carry her to the house of his host, the tailor. So he walked on and she followed him from street to street, till she was tired and said to him, 'O my lord, where is thy house?' 'But a little way before us,' answered he. Then he turned aside into a handsome street, followed by the young lady, and walked on, till he came to the end, when he found it had no issue and exclaimed, 'There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme!' Then, raising his eyes, he saw, at the upper end of the street, a great door, with two stone benches; but it was locked. So he sat down on one of the benches and the lady on the other; and she said to him, 'O my lord, wherefore waitest thou?' He bowed his head awhile, then raised it and answered, 'I am waiting for my servant, who has the key: for I bade him make me ready meat and drink and flowers for the wine-service against my return from the bath.' But he said in himself, 'Belike she will grow tired of waiting and go about her business, leaving me here, when I will go my own way.' However, when she was weary of waiting, she said, 'O my lord, thy servant tarries long; and here are we waiting in the street.' And she took a stone and went up to the lock. 'Be not in haste,' said Amjed; 'but have patience till the servant comes.' However, she hearkened not to him, but smote the lock with the stone and broke it in half, whereupon the door opened. Quoth he, 'What possessed thee to do this?' 'Pooh, pooh, my lord!' answered she. 'What matters it? Is not the house thine?' 'Yes,' said he; 'but there was no need to break the lock.' Then she entered, leaving Amjed confounded and knowing not what to do for fear of the people of the house; but she said to him, 'Why dost thou not enter, O light of mine eyes and darling of my heart?' 'I hear and obey,' answered he; 'but my servant tarries long upon me and I know not if he have done aught of what I bade him or not.' So saying, he entered, sore in fear of the people of the house, and found himself in a handsome saloon, full of buffets and niches and settles, furnished with stuffs of silk and brocade. It had four raised recesses, each facing other, and in the midst was a fountain of costly fashion, on whose margin stood a covered tray (of meats), with a leather table-cloth hanging up and dishes set with jewels, full of fruits and sweet-scented flowers. Hard by stood drinking vessels and a candlestick with a candle therein. The place was full of precious stuffs, and therein were chests and stools set, on each of which latter lay a parcel of clothes and a purse full of gold and silver. The floor was paved with marble and the house bore witness in every part to its owner's fortune. When Amjed saw all this, he was confounded and said in himself, 'I am a lost man! Verily, we are God's and to God we return!' As for the lady, she was transported at what she saw and said to him, 'By Allah, O my lord, thy servant has not failed of his duty; for see, he has swept the place and cooked the meat and set on the fruit; and indeed I come at the best of times.' But he paid no heed to her, his heart being taken up with fear of the people of the house; and she said, 'Fie, O my lord, O my heart! What ails thee to stand thus?' Then she sighed and giving him a kiss, that sounded like the cracking of a walnut, said, 'O my lord, and thou have bidden other than me, I will gird my middle and serve her and thee.' Amjed laughed from an angerful heart and sat down, panting and saying in himself, 'Alack, how I shall smart for it, when the owner of the house returns!' She seated herself by him and fell to jesting and laughing, whilst he sat careful and frowning, thinking a thousand thoughts and saying in himself, 'The master of the house will surely come and what shall I say to him? He will assuredly kill me without mercy.' Presently, she rose and tucking up her sleeves, took a table, on which she laid the cloth and the tray of food; then set it before Amjed and began to eat, saying, 'Eat, O my lord.' So he came forward and ate; but the food was not pleasant to him and he ceased not to look towards the door, till the lady had eaten her fill, when she took away the meats and setting on the dessert, fell to eating of the dried fruits. Then she brought the wine-service and opening the jar, filled a cup and gave it to Amjed, who took it, saying in himself, 'Alas! what will become of me, when the master of the house comes and sees me!' Presently, as he sat, with the cup in his hand and his eyes fixed on the vestibule, in came the master of the house, who was one of the chief men of the city, being Master of the Horse to the King. He had fitted up this house for his privy pleasures, that he might make merry therein and be private with whom he would, and had that day bidden one whom he loved and had made this entertainment for him. When, therefore, this man (whose name was Behadir and who was a kindly, liberal and open- handed man) came thither and found the door open and the lock broken, he entered softly and putting in his head at the door of the saloon, saw Amjed and the lady sitting, with the dish of fruit and the wine-jar before them. Amjed at that moment had the cup in his hand and his face turned to the door; and when his eyes met Behadir's, he turned pale and trembled in every nerve. Behadir, seeing his trouble, signed to him, with his finger on his lips, as who should say, 'Be silent and come hither to me.' So he set down the cup and rose, whereupon quoth the lady, 'Whither away?' He shook his head and signing to her that he wished to make water, went out into the corridor, barefoot. When he saw Behadir, he knew him for the master of the house; so he hastened to him and kissing his hands, said to him, 'God on thee, O my lord, before thou do me any hurt, hear what I have to say.' Then he told him who he was and what caused him leave his native land and royal state, and how he had not entered his house of his free will, but that it was the lady who had broken the lock and done all this. When Behadir heard his story and knew that he was a king's son, he inclined to him and taking compassion on him, said to him, 'O Amjed, hearken to me and do what I bid thee, and I will ensure thee safety from that thou fearest; but, if thou cross me, I will kill thee.' 'Command me as thou wilt,' answered Amjed. 'I will not gainsay thee in aught, for I am the freedman of thy bounty.' 'Then go back forthright into the saloon,' rejoined Behadir, 'and sit down in thy place and take thine ease. I will presently come in to thee, and when thou seest me (now my name is Behadir) do thou revile me and rail at me, saying, "Why hast thou tarried till now?" And accept no excuse from me, but rise and beat me; and if thou spare me, I will do away thy life. Enter now and make merry and whatsoever thou seekest of me, I will bring thee forthwith. So pass the night as thou wilt and on the morrow go thy way. This in honour of thy strangerhood, for I love strangers and hold myself bounden to do them honour.' So Amjed kissed his hand and returning to the saloon, with his face clad in its native white and red, said to the lady, 'O my mistress, the place is gladdened by thy presence, and this is indeed a blessed night.' 'Verily,' said she, 'this is a wonderful change in thee, that thou now welcomest me so cordially!' 'By Allah, O my lady,' answered he, 'methought my servant Behadir had robbed me of some necklaces of jewels, worth ten thousand dinars each; however, when I went out but now, in concern for this, I sought for them and found them in their place. I know not why the knave tarries thus, and needs must I punish him for it.' She was satisfied with his answer, and they drank and sported and made merry, till near upon sundown, when Behadir came in to them, having changed his clothes and girt his middle and put on shoes, such as are worn of servants. He saluted and kissed the earth, then clasped his hands behind him and stood, with his head hanging down, as one who confesses to a fault. Amjed looked at him with angry eyes and said, 'Why hast thou tarried till now, O most pestilent of slaves?' 'O my lord,' answered Behadir, 'I was busy washing my clothes and knew not of thy being here; for thou hadst appointed me for nightfall and not for the daytime.' But Amjed cried out at him, saying, 'Thou liest, O vilest of slaves! By Allah, I must beat thee!' So he rose and laying Behadir on the ground, took a stick and beat him gingerly: but the lady sprang up and snatching the stick from his hand, laid on to Behadir so lustily, that the tears ran from his eyes and he ground his teeth together and called out for succour; whilst Amjed cried out to the lady to hold her hand and she answered, 'Let me stay my anger on him;' till at last he snatched the stick from her hand and pushed her away. Behadir arose and wiping away his tears, waited upon them awhile; after which he swept the hall and lighted the lamps; but, as often as he went in and out, the lady railed at him and cursed him, till Amjed was wroth with her and said, 'For God's sake, leave my servant; he is not used to this.' Then they sat eating and drinking, whilst Behadir waited upon them, till midnight, when the latter, weary with service and beating, fell asleep in the midst of the hall and snored and snorted; whereupon the lady, who was heated with wine, said to Amjed, 'Arise, take the sword that hangs yonder and cut off this slave's head, or I will be the death of thee.' 'What possesses thee to kill my slave?' asked Amjed; and she answered, 'Our delight will not be fulfilled but by his death. If thou wilt not kill him, I will do it myself.' 'For God's sake,' cried Amjed, 'do not this thing!' 'It must be,' replied she and taking down the sword, drew it and made at Behadir to kill him; but Amjed said in himself, 'This man hath entreated us courteously and sheltered us and done us kindness and made himself my servant: and shall we requite him by killing him? This shall never be. Then he said to the lady, 'If my slave must be killed, better I should do it than thou.' So saying, he took the sword from her and raising his hand, smote her on the neck and made her head fly from her body. It fell upon Behadir, who awoke and sitting up, saw Amjed standing by him, with the bloodstained sword in his hand, and the damsel lying dead. He enquired what had passed, and Amjed told him what she had said, adding, 'Nothing would serve her but she must kill thee; and this is her reward.' Behadir rose and kissing the prince's hand, said to him, 'Would God thou hadst spared her! But now there is nothing for it but to rid us of her forthright, before the day break.' So saying, he wrapped the body in a mantle and laying it in a basket, said to Amjed, 'Thou art a stranger here and knowest no one: so sit thou here and await my return. If I come back, I will assuredly do thee great good service and use my endeavour to have news of thy brother; but if I return not by sunrise, know that all is over with me; in which case the house and all it contains are thine, and peace be on thee.' Then he shouldered the basket and going forth, made for the sea, thinking to throw it therein: but as he drew near the shore, he turned and found himself surrounded by the chief of the police and his officers. They knew him and wondered and opened the basket, in which they found the slain woman. So they seized him and laid him in irons till the morning, when they carried him and the basket to the King and acquainted the latter with the case. The King was sore enraged and said to Behadir, 'Out on thee! This is not the first time thou hast slain folk and cast them into the sea and taken their goods. How many murders hast thou done ere this?' Behadir hung his head, and the King cried out at him, saying, 'Woe to thee! Who killed this young lady?' 'O my lord,' answered Behadir, 'I killed her, and there is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme!' At this the King's anger redoubled and he commanded to hang him. So the hangman and the chief of the police went down with him, by the King's commandment, and paraded him through the streets and markets of the town, whilst a crier forewent them, bidding all the folk to the execution of Behadir, the King's Master of the Horse.

Meanwhile, Amjed awaited his host's return till the day broke and the sun rose, and when he saw that he came not, he exclaimed, 'There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme! I wonder what is come of him?' As he sat musing, he heard the crier proclaiming aloud Behadir's sentence and bidding the people to his hanging at midday; whereat he wept and exclaimed, 'Verily, we are God's and to Him we return! He means to sacrifice himself unjustly for my sake, when it was I killed her. By Allah, this shall never be!' Then he went out and shutting the door after him, hurried through the streets, till he overtook Behadir, when he accosted the chief of the police and said to him, 'O my lord, put not Behadir to death, for he is innocent. By Allah, none killed her but I.' When the Master of the Police heard this, he took them both and carrying them before the King, told him what Amjed had said; whereupon he looked at the prince and said to him, 'Didst thou kill the young lady?' 'Yes,' answered he, and the King said, 'Tell me why thou killedst her, and speak the truth.' 'O King,' replied Amjed, 'indeed, it is a rare event and a strange matter that hath befallen me: were it graven with needles on the corners of the eye, it would serve as a lesson to whoso can profit by admonition.' Then he told him his whole story and all that had befallen him and his brother, first and last; whereat the King wondered greatly and said to him, 'O youth, I know thee now to be excusable. Wilt thou be my Vizier?' 'I hear and obey,' answered Amjed; whereupon the King bestowed magnificent dresses of honour on him and Behadir and gave him a handsome house, with servants and officers and all things needful, appointing him stipends and allowances and bidding him make search for his brother Asaad. So Amjed sat down in the seat of office and governed and did justice and invested and deposed and gave and took. Moreover, he sent out a crier to cry his brother throughout the city, and he made proclamation in the streets and markets many days, but heard no news of Asaad nor happened on any trace of him.

Meanwhile, the Magians ceased not to torture Asaad, night and day, for a whole year's space, till the day of their festival drew near, when the old man (whose name was Behram) made ready for the voyage and fitted out a ship for himself. When all was ready, he laid Asaad in a chest and locking it, transported it to the ship. As fate would have it, Amjed was at that very time standing looking upon the sea; and when he saw the men carrying the chest and other gear on board the ship, his heart throbbed and he called to his servants to bring him his horse. Then, mounting with a company of his officers, he rode down to the port and halted before the Magian's ship, which he commanded his men to search. So they boarded the vessel and searched it in every part, but found nothing and returned and told Amjed, who mounted again and rode back to his palace, with a troubled mind. As he entered, he cast his eyes on the wall and saw written thereon the following verses, which when he read, he called to mind his brother and wept:

Belovéd ones, for all you're absent from my sight, Yet in my
     heart and thought you have your sojourn still.
You leave me here to pine and languish for desire; You rob mine
     eyes of sleep and sleep yourselves your fill.

Meanwhile, Behram embarked and shouted to his crew to make sail in all haste. So they loosed the sails and departing, fared on without ceasing many days and nights; and every other day, Behram took out Asaad and gave him a little bread and water, till they drew near the Mountain of Fire, when there came out on them a contrary wind and the sea rose against them, so that they were driven out of their course into strange waters and came in sight of a city builded upon the shore, with a citadel whose windows overlooked the sea. Now the ruler of this city was a queen called Merjaneh, and the captain said to Behram, 'O my lord, we have strayed from our course and come to the island of Queen Merjaneh, who is a devout Muslim; and if she know that we are Magians, she will take our ship and slay us to the last man. Yet needs must we put in here to rest [and refit].' Quoth Behram, 'Let us clothe this Muslim we have with us in a slave's habit and carry him ashore with us, so that, when the queen sees him, she will think and say, "This is a slave." As for me, I will tell her that I am a dealer in white slaves and that I had with me many, but have sold all but this one, whom I have retained to keep my accounts, for he can read and write.' And the captain said, 'This device should serve well.' Presently they reached the city and slackening sail, cast anchor; when, behold, Queen Merjaneh came down to them, attended by her guards, and halting before the ship, called out to the captain, who landed and kissed the earth before her. Quoth she, 'What is the lading of thy ship and whom hast thou with thee?' 'O queen of the age,' answered he, 'I have with me a merchant who deals in slaves.' And she said, 'Bring him to me;' whereupon Behram came ashore to her, followed by Asaad in a slave's habit, and kissed the earth before her. 'What is thy condition?' asked the queen; and Behram answered, 'I am a slave-dealer.' Then she looked at Asaad and taking him for a slave, said to him, 'What is thy name?' Quoth he, 'Dost thou ask my present or my former name?' 'Hast thou then two names?' asked she, and he answered (and indeed his voice was choked with tears), 'Yes; my name aforetime was Asaad,[FN#70] but now it is Muterr.'[FN#71] Her heart inclined to him and she said, 'Canst thou write?' 'Yes,' answered he; and she gave him inkhorn and pen and paper and said to him, 'Write somewhat, that I may see it.' So he wrote the following verses:

Harkye, O thou that judgest, what can a mortal do, When fate, in
     all conditions, doth him to death ensue?
It casts him in the ocean, bound hand and foot, and says, "Beware
     lest with the water you wet yourself, look you!"

When she read this, she had compassion upon him and said to Behram, 'Sell me this slave.' 'O my lady,' answered he, 'I cannot sell him, for he is the only slave I have left.' Quoth she, 'I must have him of thee, either by purchase or as a gift.' But Behram said, 'I will neither sell him nor give him.' Whereat she was wroth and taking Asaad by the hand, carried him up to the palace and sent to Behram, saying, 'Except thou set sail and depart our city this very night, I will seize all thy goods and break up thy ship.' When the message reached the Magian, he was sore troubled and said, 'Verily, this voyage is every way unfortunate.' Then he made ready and took all he needed and awaited the coming of the night, to resume his voyage, saying to the sailors, 'Provide yourselves and fill the waterskins, that we may set sail at the last of the night.' So the sailors did their occasions and awaited the coming of the night.

To return to Queen Merjaneh. When she had brought Asaad into the palace, she opened the windows overlooking the sea and bade her handmaids bring food. Accordingly, they set food before Asaad and herself, and they ate, after which the queen called for wine and fell to drinking with him. Now God (may He be exalted and glorified!) filled her heart with love for Asaad and she plied him with wine, till his reason fled and presently he rose and left the hall, to do an occasion. Seeing a door open, he went out and walked on, till he came to a vast garden full of all manner fruits and flowers and sitting down under a tree, did his occasion. Then he went up to a fountain in the garden and made the ablution and washed his hands and face, after which he would have risen to go away; but the air smote him and he fell back, with his clothes undone, and slept, and night overcame him thus.

Meanwhile, Behram, the night being come, cried out to the sailors to spread sail and depart. 'We hear and obey,' answered they; 'but give us time to fill our water-skins.' Then they landed with their water-skins and coasting the palace, found nothing but walls: so they climbed over into the garden and followed the track of feet, that led them to the fountain, where they found Asaad lying on his back, asleep. They knew him and taking him up, climbed the wall again with him, after they had filled their skins, and carried him back in haste to Behram, to whom said they, 'Beat thy drums and sound thy pipes; for we have found thy prisoner, whom Queen Merjaneh took from thee by force, and have brought him back to thee.' And they threw Asaad down before him. When Behram saw him, his heart leapt for joy and his breast dilated with gladness. Then he bestowed largesse on the sailors and bade them weigh anchor in haste. So they set sail forthright, intending for the Mountain of Fire, and stayed not their course till the morning.

As for Queen Merjaneh, she abode awhile, awaiting Asaad's return; and when she saw that he came not, she rose and sought him, but found no trace of him. Then she bade her women light flambeaux and search for him, whilst she herself went forth and seeing the garden-door open, knew that he had gone thither. So she went out and finding his slippers lying by the fountain, searched the garden in every part, but found no sign of him. Nevertheless, she gave not over the search till morning, when she enquired for the Magian's ship and was told that it had set sail in the first watch of the night; wherefore she knew that they had taken Asaad with them and this was grievous to her and she was angry. So she bade equip ten great ships forthwith and arming herself, embarked in one of them, with her guards and women and troops, richly accoutred and armed for war. They spread the sails and she said to the captain, 'If you overtake the Magian's ship, ye shall have of me dresses of honour and largesse; but if ye let it escape, I will kill you all.' Whereat fear and great hope fell upon the seamen, and they sailed three days and nights, till, on the fourth day, they sighted Behram's ship. Ere ended day, they came up with it and surrounded it on all sides, even as Behram had taken Asaad forth of the chest and was beating and torturing him, whilst the prince cried out for succour and relief, but found neither helper nor deliverer; and indeed he was sorely tormented with much beating. Presently Behram chanced to look up and seeing himself encompassed by the queen's ships, as the white of the eye encompasses the black, gave himself up for lost and groaned and said to Asaad, 'Out on thee, O Asaad! This is all thy doing; but, by Allah, I will kill thee ere I die myself.' Then he bade the sailors throw him overboard; so they took him by the hands and feet and cast him into the sea and he sank. But God (may He be exalted and glorified!) willed that his life should be saved and that his last day should be deferred; so He caused him to rise again and he struck out with his hands and feet, till the Almighty gave him ease and relief and the waves bore him far from the Magian's ship and threw him ashore. He landed, scarce crediting his escape, and putting off his clothes, wrung them and spread them out to dry, whilst he sat, naked and weeping over his misfortunes and desolate and forlorn condition and repeating the following verses:

My fortitude fails me for travail and pain; My patience is spent,
     my endeavour in vain;
My sinews are sundered; O Lord of all lords, To whom but his Lord
     shall the wretched complain?

Then, rising, he donned his clothes and set out at a venture, knowing not whither he went. He fared on day and night, eating of the herbs of the earth and the fruits of the trees and drinking of the streams, till he came in sight of a city; whereupon he rejoiced and hurried on; but before he reached it, the night overtook him and the gates were shut. Now, as chance would have it, this was the very city in which he had been a prisoner and to whose king his brother Amjed was vizier. When he saw the gate was shut, he turned back and made for the burial-ground, where finding a tomb without a door, he entered and lay down and fell asleep, with his face in his sleeve.

Meanwhile, Queen Merjaneh, coming up with Behram's ship, questioned him of Asaad; but he swore to her that he was not with him and that he knew nothing of him. She searched the ship, but found no trace of Asaad, so took Behram and carrying him back to her castle, would have put him to death; but he ransomed himself from her with all his good and his ship and she released him and his men. They went forth from her, hardly believing in their escape, and fared on ten days' journey, till they came to their own city and found the gate shut, it being eventide. So they made for the burial-ground, thinking to lie the night there, and going round about the tombs, as fate would have it, saw that, in which Asaad lay, open; whereat Behram marvelled and said,' I must look into this tomb.' Then he entered and found Asaad lying asleep, with his head on his sleeve; so he raised his head and looking in his face, knew him for him on whose account he had lost his goods and his ship, and said, 'Art thou yet alive?' Then he bound him and gagged him, without further parley, and carried him to his house, where he clapped heavy shackles on his feet and lowered him into the underground dungeon aforesaid, affected to the tormenting of Muslims, bidding a daughter of his, by name Bustan, torture him night and day, till the next year, when they would again visit the Mountain of Fire and offer him up as a sacrifice there. Then he beat him grievously and locking the dungeon door upon him, gave the keys to his daughter. By and by, she opened the door and went down to beat him, but finding him a comely sweet-faced youth, with arched brows and melting black eyes, fell in love with him and said to him, 'What is thy name?' 'My name is Assad,'[FN#72] answered he. 'Mayst thou indeed be happy,' exclaimed she, 'and happy be thy days! Thou deservest not torture and blows, and I see thou hast been unjustly entreated.' And she comforted him with kind words and loosed his bonds. Then she questioned him of the faith of Islam, and he told her that it was the true and orthodox faith and that our lord Mohammed had approved himself by surpassing miracles and manifest signs and that the [worship of] fire was not profitable, but harmful; and he went on to expound to her the tenets of Islam, till she was persuaded and the love of the True Faith entered her heart. Then (for God the Most High had filled her with love of Asaad), she made profession of the faith and became of the people of felicity. After this, she brought him meat and drink and talked with him and they prayed together: moreover, she made him chicken-broths and fed him therewith, till he regained strength and his sickness left him and he was restored to health. One day, as she stood at the door of the house, she heard the crier proclaiming aloud and saying, 'Whoso hath with him a handsome young man, whose favour is thus and thus, and bringeth him forth, shall have all he seeketh of wealth; but if any have him and discover it not, he shall be hanged over his own door and his goods shall be confiscated and his blood go for nought.' Now Asaad had acquainted her with his whole history: so, when she heard the crier, she knew that it was he who was sought for and going down to him, told him the news. Then she went forth with him to the palace of the Vizier, whom when Asaad saw, he exclaimed, 'By Allah, this is my brother Amjed!' And threw himself upon him; whereupon Amjed also knew him and they embraced each other and lay awhile insensible, whilst the Vizier's officers stood round them. When they came to themselves, Amjed took his brother and carried him to the Sultan, to whom he related the whole story, and the Sultan charged him to plunder Behram's house and take himself. So Amjed despatched thither a company of men, who sacked the house and took Behram and brought his daughter to the Vizier, who received her with all honour, for Asaad had told his brother all the torments he had suffered and the kindness that she had done him. Moreover, Amjed, in his turn, related to Asaad all that had passed between the lady and himself and how he had escaped hanging and become Vizier; and they made moan, each to the other, of the anguish they had suffered for separation. Then the Sultan sent for Behram and bade strike off his head; but he said, 'O most mighty King, art thou indeed resolved to put me to death?' 'Yes,' replied the King, 'except thou save thyself by becoming a Muslim.' And Behram said, 'O King, have patience with me a little.' Then he bowed his head awhile and presently raising it again, made profession of the faith and avowed himself a Muslim at the hands of the Sultan. They all rejoiced at his conversion and Amjed and Asaad told him all that had befallen them, whereat he wondered and said, 'O my lords, make ready for the journey and I will depart with you and carry you back to your father's court in a ship.' At this they rejoiced and wept sore; but he said, 'O my lords, weep not for your departure, for ye shall be re-united [with those you love], even as were Nimeh and Num.' 'And what befell Nimeh and Num?' asked they. 'It is told,' replied Behram, '(but God alone is all-knowing), that

Story of Nimeh Ben Er Rebya and Num His Slave-girl

There lived once in the city of Cufa a man called Er Rebya ben Hatim, who was one of the chief men of the town, rich in goods and prosperous, and God had vouchsafed him a son, whom he named Nimet Allah.[FN#73] One day, being in the slave-dealers' mart, he saw a female slave exposed for sale, with a little girl of wonderful beauty and grace in her hand. So he beckoned to the broker and said to him, "What is the price of this woman and her child?" "Fifty dinars," answered he. "Write the contract of sale," said Er Rebya, "and take the money and give it to her owner." Then he gave the broker the price and his brokerage and taking the woman and her child, carried them to his house. When his wife saw the slave, she said to her husband (who was the son of her father's brother), "O my cousin, what is this damsel?" Quoth he, "I bought her for the sake of the little one on her arm, for know that, when she grows up, there will not be her like for beauty, either in the land of the Arabs or elsewhere." "It was well seen of thee," answered his wife. Then said she to the woman, "What is thy name?" "O my lady," replied she, "my name is Taufic." "And what is thy daughter's name?" asked she. "Saad,"[FN#74] answered the slave. "Thou sayst sooth," rejoined her mistress. "Thou art indeed happy, and happy is he who hath bought thee." Then said she to her husband, "O my cousin, what wilt thou call her?" "What thou choosest," answered he. "Then let us call her Num,"[FN#75] quoth she, and he said, "Good." The little Num was reared with Er Rebya's son Nimeh in one cradle and each grew up handsomer than the other. They were wont to call each other brother and sister, till they came to the age of ten, when Er Rebya said to Nimeh, "O my son, Num is not thy sister, but thy slave. I bought her in thy name, whilst thou wast yet in the cradle; so call her no more 'sister' from this day forth." "If that be so," quoth Nimeh, "I will take her to wife." Then he went to his mother and told her of this, and she said to him, "O my son, she is thy handmaid." So he went in to Num and loved her and two years passed over them, whilst Num grew up, nor was there in all Cufa a fairer or sweeter or more graceful girl than she. She learnt the Koran and all manner of knowledge and excelled in music and singing and playing upon all kinds of instruments, so that she surpassed all the folk of her time. One day, as she sat with her husband in the wine-chamber, she took the lute and tuning it, sang the following verses:

Since thou'rt my lord, by whose good grace I live in fair estate,
     A sword wherewith I smite in twain the neck of adverse fate,
No need is mine to have recourse to Amr[FN#76] or to Zeid,[FN#77]
     Nor any but thyself, an if the ways on me grow strait.

Nimeh was charmed with these verses and said to her, "I conjure thee, by my life, O Num, sing to us with the tambourine and other instruments!" So she sang the following verses to a lively air:

By him whose hand possesses the reins of my affair, On passion's
     score, I swear it, my enviers I'll dare.
Yea, I will vex my censors and thee alone obey And sleep and ease
     and solace, for thy sweet sake, forswear
And dig midmost my entrails, to hold the love of thee, A grave,
     of which not even my heart shall be aware.

And Nimeh exclaimed, "Gifted of God art thou, O Num!"

But whilst they led thus the most delightsome life, El Hejjaj, [FN#78] [the governor of Cufa, heard of Num and] said in himself, "Needs must I make shift to take this girl Num and send her to the Commander of the Faithful Abdulmelik ben Merwan, for he hath not in his palace her like for beauty and sweet singing." Then, calling an old woman, one of his body-servants, he said to her, "Go to Er Rebya's house and foregather with the girl Num and cast about to steal her away, for her like is not to be found on the face of the earth." She promised to do his bidding; so next morning she donned clothes of wool[FN#79] and threw round her neck a rosary of thousands of beads; then, taking in her hand a staff and water-bottle of Yemen make, went forth, exclaiming, "Glory be to God! Praised be God! There is no god but God! God is most great! There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme!" Nor did she leave making devout ejaculations, whilst her heart was full of craft and fraud, till she came to Nimeh's house, at the hour of noonday-prayer, and knocked at the door. The doorkeeper opened and said to her, "What dost thou want?" Quoth she, "I am a poor pious woman, whom the time of noonday-prayer hath overtaken, and I would fain pray in this blessed place." "O old woman," answered the porter, "this is no mosque nor oratory, but the house of Nimeh ben er Rebya." "I know there is neither mosque nor oratory like the house of Nimeh ben er Rebya," rejoined she. "I am a chamberwoman of the palace of the Commander of the Faithful and am come out upon a pilgrimage of devotion." But the porter replied, "Thou canst not enter;" and many words passed between them, till at last she caught hold of him, saying, "Shall the like of me, who have free access to the houses of Amirs and grandees, be denied admission to the house of Nimeh ben er Rebya?" Presently, out came Nimeh and hearing their dispute, laughed and bade the old woman enter. So she followed him into the presence of Num, whom she saluted after the goodliest fashion; and when she looked on her, she was confounded at her exceeding beauty and said to her, "O my lady, I commend thee to the safeguard of God, who made thee and thy lord to accord in beauty and grace!" Then she stood up in the prayer-niche and betook herself to inclination and prostration and prayer, till the day departed and the night came with the darkness, when Num said to her, "O my mother, rest thy feet awhile." "O my lady," answered the old woman, "whoso seeketh the world to come must weary himself in this world, and whoso wearieth not himself in this world shall not attain the dwellings of the just in the world to come." Then Num brought her food and said to her, "O my mother, eat of my victual and pray that God may relent towards me and have mercy on me." But she replied, "O my lady, I am fasting. As for thee, thou art but a girl and it befits thee to eat and drink and make merry. May God be indulgent to thee! Quoth the Most High, '(None shall be saved) except those that repent and believe and work the works of righteousness.'"[FN#80] Num sat awhile, conversing with the old woman, and presently said to Nimeh, "O my lord, conjure this old woman to sojourn with us awhile, for piety is imprinted on her face." Quoth he, "Set apart for her a chamber, where she may do her devotions, and let none go in to her: peradventure God (glorified and exalted be He!) shall prosper us by the blessing of her presence and part us not." The old woman passed the night in prayer and recitation,[FN#81] till daybreak, when she went in to Nimeh and Num and giving them good morning, said to them, "I pray God to have you in His holy keeping!" "Whither away, O my mother?" said Num. "My lord hath bidden me set apart for thee a chamber, where thou mayst retire for thy devotions." "God give him long life," replied the old woman, "and continue His favour to you both! I would have you charge the doorkeeper not to stay my coming in to you, and (God willing) I will go the round of the Holy Places and pray for you at the end of my devotions every day and night." Then she went out (whilst Num wept for parting with her, knowing not the purpose of her coming) and returned to El Hejjaj, who said to her, "What news?" She answered, "I have seen the girl, and indeed never bore woman of her day a lovelier than she." And El Hejjaj said to her, "So thou do my bidding, thou shalt have of me abundant good." Quoth she, "I ask of thee a month's time." And he replied, "It is well." Then she fell to paying frequent visits to Nimeh and Num, who redoubled in honour and kindness to her, and she used to go in to them morning and evening, and all in the house welcomed her, till, one day, being alone with Num, she said to her, "By Allah, O my lady, when I go to the Holy Places, I will pray for thee; but I should love thee to go thither with me, that thou mightest look on the Elders of the Faith that resort thither, and they should pray for thee, according to thy desire." "O my mother," said Num, "I conjure thee by Allah, take me with thee!" "Ask leave of thy mother-in-law," replied the old woman, "and I will take thee." So Num said to her mother-in-law, "O my lady, ask my master to let us go, thee and me, one day, with this my old mother, to pray and worship with the fakirs in the Holy Places." Presently, Nimeh came in and sat down, whereupon the old woman went up to him and would have kissed his hand, but he forbade her; so she called down blessings on him and left the house. Next day, she came again, in the absence of Nimeh, and said to Num, "We prayed for thee yesterday; but arise now and divert thyself and return ere thy lord come home." So Num said to her mother-in-law, "I beseech thee, for God's sake, let me go with this pious woman, that I may look upon the friends of God in the Holy Places and return speedily, ere my lord come." Quoth Nimeh's mother, "I fear lest thy lord know." "By Allah," said the old woman, "I will not let her sit down; but she shall look, standing on her feet, and not tarry." So on this wise she took the damsel by guile and carrying her to El Hejjaj's palace, bestowed her in a privy chamber and told him of her coming; whereupon he went in to her and looking upon her, saw her to be the loveliest of the people of the day, never had he beheld her like. When Num saw him, she veiled her face from him; but he left her not till he had called his chamberlain, whom he commanded to take fifty horsemen and mounting the damsel on a swift dromedary, carry her to Damascus and there deliver her to the Commander of the Faithful, Abdulmelik ben Merwan. Moreover, he gave him a letter for the Khalif, saying, "Bear him this letter and bring me his answer in all haste." So the chamberlain took the damsel, all tearful for separation from her lord, and setting out with her for Syria, gave not over journeying till he reached Damascus and sought an audience of the Commander of the Faithful, to whom he delivered the damsel and the letter. The Khalif appointed her a separate apartment and going into his harem, said to his wife, "El Hejjaj has bought me a female slave of the daughters (descendants) of the (ancient) Kings of Cufa, for ten thousand dinars, and has sent her to me with this letter." "May God increase thee of his favour!" answered she. Then the Khalif's sister went into Num and when she saw her, she said, "By Allah, happy the man who hath thee in his house, were thy cost a hundred thousand dinars!" "O fair-faced one," said Num, "what King's palace is this?" "This is the city of Damascus," answered the princess, "and the palace of my brother, the Commander of the Faithful, Abdulmelik ben Merwan. Didst thou not know this?" "By Allah, O my lady," said Num, "I had no knowledge of this!" "And he who sold thee and took thy price," asked the princess, "did he not tell thee that the Khalif had bought thee?" When Num heard this, she wept and said in herself, "I have been cozened; but, if I speak, none will credit me; so I will hold my peace and take patience, knowing that the relief of God is near." Then she bent her head for shame, and indeed her cheeks were tanned with the journey and the sun. So the Khalif's sister left her that day and returned to her on the morrow with clothes and necklaces of jewels and dressed her; after which the Khalif came in to her and sat down by her side, and his sister said to him, "Look on this damsel, in whom God hath united every perfection of beauty and grace." So he said to Num, "Draw back the veil from thy face;" but she would not unveil, and he beheld not her face. However, he saw her wrists and love of her entered his heart; and he said to his sister, "I will not go in to her for three days, till she be cheered by thy converse." Then he left her, but Num ceased not to brood over her case and sigh for her separation from Nimeh, till, at eventide, she fell sick of a fever and ate not nor drank; and her face grew pale and her charms faded. They told the Khalif of this, and it grieved him; so he visited her with physicians and men of skill, but none could come at a cure for her.

As for Nimeh, when he returned home, he sat down on his bed and cried, "Ho, Num!" But she answered not; so he rose in haste and called out, but none came to him, for all the women in the house had hidden themselves, for fear of him. Then he went in to his mother, whom he found sitting with her cheek on her hand, and said to her, "O my mother, where is Num?" "O my son," answered she, "she is with one who is worthier than I to be trusted with her, namely, the devout old woman; she went forth with her to visit the fakirs and return." "Since when has this been her wont," asked Nimeh, "and at what hour went she forth?" Quoth his mother, "She went out early in the morning." "And how camest thou to give her leave for this?" said he, and she replied, "O my son, it was she persuaded me." "There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme!" exclaimed Nimeh and going forth, in a state of distraction, repaired to the chief of the police, to whom said he, "Dost thou practice on me and steal my slave-girl away from me? I will assuredly complain of thee to the Commander of the Faithful." "Who has taken her?" asked the chief of the police, and Nimeh answered, "An old woman of such and such a favour, clad in woollen raiment and carrying a rosary of thousands of beads." "Find me the old woman," rejoined the other, "and I will get thee back thy slave-girl." "Who knows the old woman?" said Nimeh. "And who knows the hidden things save God, may He be glorified and exalted?" replied the official, who knew her for El Hejjaj's agent. Quoth Nimeh, "I look to thee for my slave-girl, and El Hejjaj shall judge between thee and me." And the master of police answered, "Go to whom thou wilt." Now Nimeh's father was one of the chief men of Cufa; so he went to the palace of the governor, whose chamberlain went in to him and told him what was to do. El Hejjaj bade admit him and enquired his business. Quoth Nimeh, "Such and such things have befallen me." And the governor said, "Bring me the chief of the police, and we will bid him seek for the old woman." Now he knew that the chief of the police knew her; so, when he came, he said to him, "I wish thee to make search for the slave-girl of Nimeh ben er Rebya." And he answered, "None knoweth the hidden things save God the Most High." "Thou must send out horsemen," rejoined El Hejjaj, "and look for the damsel in all the roads and towns." Then he turned to Nimeh and said to him, "An thy slave-girl return not, I will give thee ten slave-girls from my house and ten from that of the chief of the police." And he said to the latter, "Go and seek for the girl." So he went out and Nimeh returned home, full of trouble and despairing of life. He had now reached the age of fourteen and there was yet no hair on his cheeks. He shut himself up from his household and ceased not to weep and lament, he and his mother, till the morning, when his father came in to him and said, "O my son, El Hejjaj hath put a cheat on the damsel and stolen her away; but from hour to hour God giveth relief." But grief redoubled on Nimeh, so that he knew not what he said nor who came in to him, and indeed his charms were changed and he was in sorry case. In this plight he abode three months, till his father despaired of him, and the physicians visited him and said, "There is no cure for him but the damsel." One day, Er Rebya heard tell of a skilful Persian physician, whom the folk gave out for accomplished in medicine and astrology and geomancy. So he sent for him and seating him by his side, entreated him with honour and said to him, "Look into my son's case." So he said to Nimeh, "Give me thy hand." Accordingly, the young man gave him his hand and he felt his pulse and his joints and looked in his face; then he laughed and turning to Er Rebya, said, "Thy son's only ailment is in his heart." "Thou sayst sooth, O sage," answered Er Rebya; "but apply thy skill to the consideration of his state and case and acquaint me with the whole thereof and hide nought from me." Quoth the Persian, "He is enamoured of a girl, who is either in Bassora or Damascus; and there is no cure for him but reunion with her." "An thou bring them together," said Er Rebya, "thou shalt have of me what will rejoice thee and shalt live all thy life in wealth and delight." "This is an easy matter," answered the Persian, "and soon brought about;" and he turned to Nimeh and said to him, "Fear not; no hurt shall befall thee; so take heart and be of good cheer." Then said he to Er Rebya, "Give me four thousand dinars of your money." So he gave them to him, and he said, "I wish to carry thy son with me to Damascus, and God willing, we will not return thence but with the damsel." Then said he to the youth, "What is thy name?" And he answered, "Nimeh." "O Nimeh," said the Persian, "sit up and be of good heart, for God will reunite thee with the damsel. So put thy trust in Him and eat and drink and be cheerful and fortify thyself for travel, for we set out for Damascus this very day." So he sat up whilst the Persian made his preparations and took of Er Rebya, in all, the sum of ten thousand dinars, together with horses and camels and beasts of burden such as he needed for the journey. Then Nimeh took leave of his father and mother and journeyed with the physician to Aleppo. They could get no news of Num there, so fared on to Damascus, where they abode three days, after which the Persian took a shop and adorned its shelves with gilding and stuffs of price and stocked them with vessels of costly porcelain, with covers of silver. Moreover, he set before himself vases and flagons of glass full of all manner ointments and syrups, surrounded by cups of crystal, and donning a physician's habit, took his seat in the shop, with his astrolabe and geomantic tablet before him. Then he clad Nimeh in a shirt and gown of silk and girding his middle with a silken kerchief embroidered with gold, made him sit before himself, saying to him, "O Nimeh, henceforth thou art my son; so call me nought but father and I will call thee son." And he replied, "I hear and obey." The people of Damascus flocked to gaze on the youth's goodliness and the beauty of the shop and its contents, whilst the physician spoke to Nimeh in Persian and he answered him in the same tongue, for he knew the language, after the wont of the sons of the notables. The Persian soon became known among the townsfolk and they began to resort to him and acquaint him with their ailments, for which he prescribed. Moreover, they brought him the water of the sick in phials, and he would examine it and say, "He, whose water this is, is suffering from such and such a disease." And the patient would say, "Verily, this physician says sooth." So he continued to do the occasions of the folk and they to flock to him, till his fame spread throughout the city and into the houses of the great. One day, as he sat in his shop, there came up an old woman riding on an ass with housings of brocade, embroidered with jewels, and drawing bridle before his shop, beckoned to him, saying, "Take my hand." So he took her hand, and she alighted and said to him, "Art thou the Persian physician from Irak?" "Yes," answered he, and she said, "Know that I have a sick daughter." Then she brought out to him a phial and he looked at it and said to her, "Tell me thy daughter's name, that I may calculate her horoscope and learn the hour in which it will befit her to take medicine." "O brother of the Persians," answered she, "her name is Num." When he heard this, he fell to calculating and writing on his hand and presently said to her, "O my lady, I cannot prescribe for the girl, till I know what countrywoman she is, because of the difference of climate: so tell me where she was brought up and what is her age." "She is fourteen years old," replied the old woman, "and was brought up in Cufa of Irak." "And how long," asked he, "has she sojourned in this country?" "But a few months," answered she. When Nimeh heard the old woman's words and the name of his slave-girl, his heart fluttered and he was like to swoon. Then said the Persian to the old woman, "Such and such medicines will suit her case;" and she rejoined, "Then make them up and give them to me, with the blessing of God the Most High!" So saying, she threw him ten dinars, and he bade Nimeh prepare the necessary drugs; whereupon she looked at the youth and exclaimed, "God have thee in His holy keeping, O my son! Verily, she is like thee in age and favour." Then said she to the physician, "O brother of the Persians, is this thy slave or thy son?" "He is my son," answered he. So Nimeh made up the medicine and laying it in a little box, took a piece of paper and wrote thereon the following verses:

So Num but vouchsafe me a glance, to gladden my heart and my
     mind, Let Suada unfavouring prove and Juml, an't please her,
     unkind.[FN#82]
"Forget her," quoth they unto me, "And thou shalt have twenty
     like her." I will not forget her, I swear, for never her
     like should I find.

He put the paper in the box and sealing it up, wrote on the cover the following words in the Cufic character, "I am Nimeh ben er Rebya of Cufa." Then he gave it to the old woman, who bade them farewell and returning to the Khalif's palace, went in to Num, to whom she delivered the box, saying, "O my lady, know that there is lately come to our town a Persian physician, than whom I never saw a more skilful nor a better versed in matters of sickness. I showed him the phial and told him thy name, and he knew thine ailment and prescribed a remedy. Then, by his order, his son made thee up this medicine; and there is not in Damascus a comelier or more elegant youth than this son of his nor hath any the like of his shop." Num took the box and seeing the names of her lord and his father written thereon, changed colour and said to herself, "Doubtless, the owner of this shop is come in search of me." So she said to the old woman, "Describe this youth to me." "His name is Nimeh," answered the old woman; "he is richly clad and perfectly handsome and has a mole on his right eyebrow." "Give me the medicine," cried Num, "and may the blessing and help of God the Most High attend it!" So she drank off the potion and said, laughing, "Indeed, it is a blessed medicine." Then she sought in the box and finding the paper, read it and knew that this was indeed her lord, whereat her heart was solaced and she rejoiced. When the old woman saw her laughing, she exclaimed, "This is indeed a blessed day!" And Num said, "O nurse, I have a mind to eat and drink." So the old woman said to the serving-women, "Bring a tray of dainty viands for your mistress;" whereupon they set food before her and she sat down to eat. Presently, in came the Khalif and seeing her sitting eating, rejoiced; and the old woman said to him, "O Commander of the Faithful, I give thee joy of thy slave's recovery! Know that there is lately come to our city a physician, than whom I never saw a better versed in diseases and their cure. I fetched her medicine from him and she has taken of it but once and is restored to health." Quoth he, "Take a thousand dinars and provide for her treatment, till she be completely recovered." And he went away, rejoicing in the damsel's recovery, whilst the old woman betook herself to the physician, to whom she delivered the thousand dinars and a letter that Num had written, giving him to know that she was become the Khalif's slave. He gave the letter to Nimeh, who knew her hand and fell down in a swoon. When he came to himself, he opened the letter and found these words written therein: "From the slave despoiled of her delight,[FN#83] her whose reason hath been beguiled and who is separated from the beloved of her heart. Thy letter hath reached me and hath dilated my bosom and rejoiced my heart, even as saith the poet:

The letter reached me, never may the fingers fail thee aught,
     That traced its characters, until with sweetest scent
     they're fraught!
'Twas as unto his mother's arms when Moses was restored Or as to
     blind old Jacob's hands when Joseph's coat was
     brought."[FN#84]

When he read these verses, his eyes ran over with tears and the old woman said to him, "What ails thee to weep, O my son? May God never make thine eye to shed tears!" "O my lady," answered the Persian, "how should my son not weep, seeing that this is his slave-girl and he her lord Nimeh ben er Rebya of Cufa? Indeed, her recovery depends on her seeing him, for nought ails her but the love of him. So, O my lady, take these thousand dinars to thyself (and thou shalt have of me yet more than this) and look on us with eyes of compassion; for we know not how to bring this affair to a happy issue but through thee." Then she said to Nimeh, "Art thou indeed her lord?" "Yes," answered he, and she, "Thou sayst truly; for she ceases not to name thee." Then he told her all that had passed from first to last, and she said, "O youth, thou shalt owe thy reunion with her to none but me." So she mounted at once and returning to Num, looked in her face and smiled, saying, "O my daughter, it is just that thou weep and fall sick for thy separation from thy master Nimeh ben er Rebya of Cufa." Quoth Num, "Verily, the veil has been withdrawn for thee and the truth revealed to thee." "Be of good cheer," rejoined the old woman, "and take heart, for I will surely bring you together, though it cost me my life." Then she returned to Nimeh and said to him, "I have seen thy slave-girl and find that she longs for thee yet more than thou for her; for the Commander of the Faithful is minded to foregather with her, but she refuses herself to him. But if thou be stout of heart and firm of courage, I will bring you together and venture myself for you and make shift to bring thee to her in the Khalif's palace; for she cannot come forth." And Nimeh answered, "God requite thee with good!" Then she went back to Num and said to her, "Thy lord is indeed dying of love for thee and would fain see thee and foregather with thee. What sayst thou?" "And I also," answered Num, "am dying for his sight." So the old woman took a parcel of women's clothes and ornaments and repairing to Nimeh, said to him, "Come apart with me into a privy place." So he brought her into the room behind the shop, where she painted him and decked his wrists and plaited his hair, after which she clad him in a slave-girl's habit and adorned him after the fairest fashion of woman's adornment, till he was as one of the houris of Paradise; and when she saw him thus, she exclaimed, "Blessed be God, the most excellent Creator! By Allah, thou art handsomer than the damsel! Now, walk with thy left shoulder forward and swing thy buttocks." So he walked before her, as she bade him; and when she saw he had caught the trick of women's gait, she said to him, "Expect me to-morrow night, when, God willing, I will come and carry thee to the palace. When thou seest the chamberlains and the eunuchs, fear not, but bow thy head and speak not with any, for I will ward thee from their speech; and with God is success." Accordingly, on the morrow she returned at the appointed hour and carrying him to the palace, entered and he after her. The chamberlain would have stayed him, but the old woman said to him, "O most ill-omened of slaves, this is the handmaid of Num, the Khalif's favourite. How darest thou stay her?" Then said she, "Enter, O damsel!" And they went on, till they drew near the door leading to the inner court of the palace, when the old woman said to him, "O Nimeh, take courage and enter and turn to the left. Count five doors and enter the sixth, for it is that of the place prepared for thee. Fear nothing, and if any speak to thee, answer not neither stop." Then she went up with him to the door, and the chamberlain on guard hailed her, saying, "What damsel is that?" Quoth the old woman, "Our lady hath a mind to buy her." And he said, "None may enter save by leave of the Commander of the Faithful; so go thou back with her. I cannot let her pass, for thus am I commanded." "O chief chamberlain," replied the old woman, "use thy reason. Thou knowest that Num, the Khalif's slave-girl, of whom he is enamoured, is but now restored to health and the Commander of the Faithful hardly yet credits her recovery. Now she is minded to buy this girl; so oppose thou not her entrance, lest it come to Num's knowledge and she be wroth with thee and suffer a relapse and this bring thy head to be cut off." Then said she to Nimeh, "Enter, O damsel; pay no heed to what he says and tell not the princess that he opposed thine entrance." So Nimeh bowed his head and entered, but mistook and turned to his right, instead of his left, and meaning to count five doors and enter the sixth, counted six and entering the seventh, found himself in a place carpeted with brocade and hung with curtains of gold-embroidered silk. Here and there stood censers of aloes-wood and ambergris and sweet-scented musk, and at the upper end was a couch covered with brocade, on which he seated himself, marvelling at the exceeding magnificence of the place and knowing not what was appointed to him in the secret purpose of God. As he sat musing on his case, the Khalif's sister entered, followed by her handmaid, and seeing him seated there took him for a slave-girl and said to him, "What art thou, O damsel, and who brought thee hither?" He made no reply and she continued, "If thou be one of my brother's favourites and he be wroth with thee, I will intercede with him for thee." But he answered her not a word; so she said to her maid, "Stand at the door and let none enter." Then she went up to Nimeh and looking at him, was amazed at his beauty and said to him, "O lady, tell me who thou art and how thou camest here; for I have never seen thee in the palace." Still he answered not, whereat she was angered and putting her hand to his bosom, found no breasts and would have unveiled him, that she might know who he was; but he said to her, "O my lady, I am thy slave and cast myself on thy protection; do thou protect me." "No harm shall come to thee," said she; "but tell me who thou art and who brought thee into this my lodging." "O princess," answered he, "I am known as Nimeh ben er Rebya of Cufa, and I have ventured my life for my slave-girl Num, whom El Hejjaj took by sleight and sent hither." "Fear not," rejoined the princess; "no harm shall befall thee." Then, calling her maid, she said to her, "Go to Num's chamber and bid her to me."

Meanwhile, the old woman went to Num's bed-chamber and said to her, "Has thy lord come to thee?" "No, by Allah!" answered Num, and the other said, "Belike he hath gone astray and entered some chamber other than thine." "There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme!" exclaimed Num. "Our last hour is come and we are all lost." As they sat, pondering, in came the princess's maid and saluting Num, said to her, "My lady bids thee to her entertainment." "I hear and obey," answered the damsel, and the old woman said, "Belike thy lord is with the Khalif's sister and the veil has been done away." So Num rose and betook herself to the princess, who said to her, "Here is thy lord sitting with me; it seems he has gone astray; but, please God, neither thou nor he has any cause for fear." When Num heard this, she took heart and went up to Nimeh, who rose to meet her, and they embraced and fell down in a swoon. As soon as they came to themselves, the princess said to them, "Sit down and let us take counsel for your deliverance from this your strait." And they answered, "O our lady, we hear and obey: it is thine to command." "By Allah," quoth she, "no harm shall befall you from us!" Then she called for meat and drink, and they sat down and ate till they had enough, after which they sat drinking. The cup went round amongst them and their cares ceased from them; but Nimeh said, "Would I knew how this will end!" "O Nimeh," quoth the princess, "dost thou love thy slave Num?" "O my lady," answered he, "it is my passion for her that has brought me thus in peril of my life." Then she said to the damsel, "O Num, dost thou love thy lord Nimeh?" And she replied, "O my lady, it is the love of him that has wasted my body and brought me to evil case." "By Allah," rejoined the princess, "since ye love each other thus, may he not live who would sunder you! Take heart and be of good cheer." At this they both rejoiced, and Num, calling for a lute, tuned it and preluded enchantingly, then sang the following verses:

Whenas, content with nothing less, the spies our sev'rance
     sought, Allbe no debt of blood they had 'gainst me or thee
     in aught,
Whenas they poured upon our ears the hurtling din of war, Whilst
     helpers and protectors failed and succour came there nought,
I fought the railers with my tears, my spirit and thine eyes;
     Yea, with the torrent, fire and sword, to fend them off I
     wrought.

Then she gave the lute to Nimeh, saying, "Sing thou to us." So he took it and playing a lively measure, sang these verses:

The moon were like thee at its full, were it of freckles free,
     And did it never brook eclipse, the sun would favour thee.
Indeed, I marvel, (but in love how many a marvel is! Therein are
     passion and desire and cares and ecstasy,)
Short seems the distance, when I fare towards my love's abode;
     But when I journey from her sight, the way is long to me.

When he had made an end of his song, Num filled the cup and gave it to him, and he drank it off; then she filled again and gave the cup to the princess, who took it and emptied it; after which she in her turn took the lute and sang as follows:

Mourning and grief possess my heart and in my breast The ardour
     of desire abideth as a guest.
The wasting of my frame, alas! is manifest And all my soul is
     sick with passion and unrest.

Then she filled the cup and gave it to Num, who drank it off and taking the lute, sang the following verses:

O thou, upon whom I bestowed my soul and thou rack'dst it to
     death And I would have ta'en it again, but could not release
     it i' faith,
Relent to a lover forlorn; vouchsafe him, I pray, ere he die,
     What may from perdition redeem, for this is the last of his
     breath.

They ceased not to sing and make merry and drink to the sweet sound of the strings, full of mirth and joyance and good cheer, till, behold, in came the Commander of the Faithful. When they saw him, they rose and kissed the ground before him; and he, seeing Num with the lute in her hand, said to her, "O Num, praised be God who hath done away from thee pain and affliction!" Then he looked at Nimeh (who was still disguised as a woman) and said to the princess, "O my sister, what damsel is this by Num's side?" "O Commander of the Faithful," answered she, "she is one of thy slave-girls and the bosom friend of Num, who will neither eat nor drink without her." And she repeated the words of the poet:

Two opposites, dissevered still in charms and straitly knit, And each one's beauty brightlier shows against its opposite.

"By the Great God," said the Khalif, "she is as handsome as Num, and to-morrow, I will appoint her a separate chamber beside that of Num and send her furniture and linen and all that befits her, in honour of Num." Then, the princess called for food and set it before her brother, who ate and filling a cup, signed to Num to sing. So she took the lute, after drinking two cups, and sang the following verses:

Whenas my cup-companion hath poured me out of wine Three foaming
     cups, brimmed over with nectar from the vine,
I trail my skirts in glory all night, as if o'er thee, Commander
     of the Faithful, the empery were mine.

The Khalif was delighted and filling another cup, gave it to Num and bade her sing again. So she drank off the cup, and sweeping the strings of the lute, sang as follows:

O thou, the noblest man of men that live in this our day, Whose
     equal none may boast himself in power and mightiness,
O all unpeered in pride of place, to whom munificence Is as a
     birthright, Lord and King, whom all in all confess,
Thou, that dost lord it, sovran-wise, o'er all the kings of earth
     And without grudging or reproach, giv'st bountiful largesse,
God have thee ever in His guard, despite thine every foe, And be
     thy fortune ever bright with victory and success!

When the Khalif heard this, he exclaimed, "By Allah, it is good! By Allah, it is excellent! Verily, God hath been good to thee, O Num! How sweet is thy voice and how clear thy speech!" They passed the time thus in mirth and good cheer, till midnight, when the Khalif's sister said to him, "O Commander of the Faithful, give ear to a tale I have read in books of a certain man of rank." "And what is this tale?" asked he. "Know," said she, "that there lived once in the city of Cufa, a youth called Nimeh ben er Rebya, and he had a slave-girl whom he loved and who loved him. They had been reared in one bed; but when they grew up and mutual love took possession of them, fate smote them with its calamities and decreed separation unto them. For designing folk enticed her by sleight forth of his house and stealing her away from him, sold her to one of the Kings for ten thousand dinars. Now the girl loved her lord even as he loved her; so he left house and home and fortune and setting out in quest of her, made shift, at the peril of his life, to gain access to her; but they had not been long in company, when in came the King, who had bought her of her ravisher, and hastily bade put them to death, without waiting to enquire into the matter, as was just. What sayest thou, O Commander of the Faithful, of this King's conduct?" "This was indeed a strange thing," answered the Khalif; "it behoved the King to use his power with clemency, and he should have considered three things in their favour; first, that they loved one another; secondly, that they were in his house and under his hand; and thirdly, that it behoves a King to be deliberate in judging between the folk, and how much more so when he himself is concerned! Wherefore the King in this did unkingly." Then said his sister, "O my brother by the Lord of heaven and earth, I conjure thee, bid Num sing and give ear to that she shall sing!" And he said, "O Num, sing to me." So she played a lively measure and sang the following verses:

Fortune hath played the traitor; indeed, 'twas ever so,
     Transpiercing hearts and bosoms and kindling care and woe
And parting friends in sunder, that were in union knit, So down
     their cheeks thou seest the tears in torrents flow.
They were, and I was with them, in all delight of life, And
     fortune did unite us full straitly whiles ago.
So gouts of blood, commingled with tears, both night and day I'll
     weep, my sore affliction for loss of thee to show.

When he heard this, he was moved to great delight, and his sister said to him, "O my brother, he who decideth in aught against himself, it behoveth him to abide by it and do according to his word; and thou hast by this judgment decided against thyself." Then said she, "O Nimeh, stand up, and do thou likewise, O Num!" So they stood up and she continued, "O Commander of the Faithful, she who stands before thee is Num, whom El Hejjaj ben Yousuf eth Thekefi stole and sent to thee, falsely pretending in his letter to thee that he had bought her for ten thousand dinars. This other is her lord, Nimeh ben er Rebya; and I beseech thee, by the honour of thy pious forefathers and by Hemzeh and Akil and Abbes,[FN#85] to pardon them and bestow them one on the other, that thou mayst earn the recompense in the next world of thy just dealing with them; for they are under thy hand and have eaten of thy meat and drunken of thy drink; and behold, I make intercession for them and beg of thee the boon of their lives." "Thou sayst sooth," replied the Khalif, "I did indeed give judgment as thou sayst, and I use not to go back on my word." Then said he, "O Num, is this thy lord?" And she answered, "Yes, O Commander of the Faithful." "No harm shall befall you," said he; "I give you to one another." Then he said to the young man, "O Nimeh, who told thee where she was and taught thee how to get at her?" "O Commander of the Faithful," replied he, "give ear to my story; for by the virtue of thy pious forefathers, I will hide nothing from thee!" And he told him all that had passed between himself and the Persian physician and the old woman and how she had brought him into the palace and he had mistaken one door for another; whereat the Khalif wondered exceedingly and said, "Fetch me the Persian." So they fetched him and he made him one of his chief officers. Moreover, he bestowed on him robes of honour and ordered him a handsome present, saying, "Him, who has shown such good sense and skill in his ordinance, it behoves us to make one of our chief officers." He also loaded Nimeh and Num with gifts and honours and rewarded the old woman; and they abode with him in joy and content and all delight of life seven days; at the end of which time Nimeh craved leave to return to Cufa with his slave-girl. The Khalif gave leave and they departed accordingly and arrived in due course at Cufa, where Nimeh foregathered with his father and mother, and they abode in the enjoyment of all the delights and comforts of life, till there came to them the Destroyer of Delights and the Sunderer of Companies.'

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The princes wondered mightily at Behram's story and said, 'By Allah, this is indeed a rare story!' They passed the night thus, and next morning, Amjed and Asaad mounted and riding to the palace, sought an audience of the King, who received them with honour. As they sat talking, of a sudden they heard the townsfolk crying aloud and shouting to one another and calling for help, and the chamberlain came in to the King and said to him, 'Some King hath encamped before the city, he and his army, with arms displayed, and we know not who they are nor what they seek.' The King took counsel with his Vizier and Asaad, and Amjed said, 'I will go out to him and learn the cause of his coming.' So he took horse and riding forth the city, repaired to the stranger's camp, where he found the King and with him many soldiers and mounted officers. When the guards saw him, they knew him for an ambassador from the King of the city; so they took him and brought him to their King. Amjed kissed the ground before him; but lo, the King was a queen, who wore a chin-band over her face, and she said to Amjed, 'Know that I have no design on your city and am only come hither in quest of a beardless slave of mine, whom if I find with you, I will do you no hurt; but if I find him not, then shall there befall sore battle between you and me.' 'O Queen,' asked Amjed, 'what is thy slave's name and what like is he?' Said she, 'His name is Asaad and he is of such and such a favour. My name is Merjaneh, and this slave came to my town in company of Behram, a Magian, who refused to sell him to me; so I took him by force, but the Magian fell upon him by night and took him away by stealth.' When Amjed heard this he knew that it was his brother Asaad whom she sought and said to her, 'O Queen of the age, praised be God who hath brought us relief! Know that he whom thou seekest is my brother.' Then he told her their story and all that had befallen them in the land of exile, and acquainted her with the cause of their departure from the Islands of Ebony, whereat she marvelled and rejoiced to have found Asaad. So she bestowed a dress of honour upon Amjed, and he returned to the King and told him what had passed, at which they all rejoiced and the King and the two princes went forth to meet Queen Merjaneh. They were admitted to her presence and sat down to converse with her, but as they were thus engaged, behold, a cloud of dust arose and grew, till it covered the landscape. Presently, it lifted and discovered an army, in numbers like the swollen sea, armed cap-a-pie, who, making for the city with naked swords, encompassed it as the ring encompasses the little finger. When Amjed and Asaad saw this, they exclaimed, 'We are God's and to Him we return. What is this great army? Doubtless, these are enemies; and except we agree with this Queen Merjaneh to resist them, they will take the town from us and slay us. There is nothing for us but to go out to them and see who they are.' So Amjed mounted and passing through Queen Merjaneh's camp, came to the approaching army and was admitted to the presence of their King, to whom he delivered his message, after kissing the earth before him. Quoth the King, 'I am called King Ghaïour, lord of the Islands and the Seas and the Seven Castles, and am come out in quest of my daughter Budour, of whom fortune hath bereft me; for she left me and returned not to me, nor have I heard any news of her or her husband Kemerezzeman. Have ye any tidings of them?' When Amjed heard this, he knew that this King was none other than his grandfather, his mother's father, and kissing the earth before him, told him that he was the son of his daughter Budour; whereupon Ghaïour threw himself upon him and they both fell a-weeping. Then said Ghaïour, 'Praised be God, O my son, for safety, since I have foregathered with thee!' And Amjed told him that his daughter Budour and her husband Kemerezzeman were well and abode in a city called the City of Ebony. Moreover, he related to him how his father, being wroth with him and his brother, had commanded his treasurer to put them to death, but that the latter had taken pity on them and let them go with their lives. Quoth King Ghaïour, 'I will go back with thee and thy brother to your father and make your peace with him.' Amjed kissed the ground before him and the King bestowed a dress of honour upon him, after which he returned, smiling, to the King of the city of the Magians and told him what he had learnt, at which he wondered exceedingly. Then he despatched guest-gifts of sheep and horses and camels and provender and so forth to King Ghaïour and the like to Queen Merjaneh and told her what had chanced, whereupon quoth she, 'I too will accompany you with my troops and will do my endeavour to make peace [between the princes and their father.]' At this moment, there arose another cloud of dust and spread, till it covered the prospect and darkened the day; and under it, they heard shouts and cries and neighing of horses and saw the sheen of swords and the glint of lance-points. When this new host drew near the city and saw the two other armies, they beat their drums and the King of the Magians exclaimed, 'This is indeed a blessed day! Praised be God who hath made us of accord with these two armies! If it be His will, He will give us peace with yon other also.' Then said he to Amjed and Asaad, 'Go forth and bring us news of them, for they are a mighty host, never saw I a mightier.' So they opened the city gates, which the King had shut for fear of the surrounding troops, and Amjed and Asaad went forth and coming to the new host, found that it was the army of the King of the Ebony Islands, led by their father, King Kemerezzeman in person. When they came before him, they kissed the earth and wept; but, when he saw them, he threw himself upon them, weeping sore, and strained them long to his breast. Then he excused himself to them and told them how sore desolation he had suffered for their loss; and they acquainted him with King Ghaïour's arrival, whereupon he mounted with his chief officers and proceeded to the King of China's camp, he and his sons. As they drew near, one of the princes rode forward and informed King Ghaïour of Kemerezzeman's coming, whereupon he came out to meet him and they joined company, marvelling at these things and how Fortune had ordered their encounter in that place. Then the townsfolk made them banquets of all manner of meats and confections and brought them sheep and horses and camels and fodder and other guest-gifts and all that the troops needed. Presently, behold, yet another cloud of dust arose and spread till it covered the landscape, whilst the earth shook with the tramp of horse and the drums sounded like the storm-winds. After awhile, the dust lifted and discovered an army clad in black and armed cap-a-pie, and in their midst rode a very old man clad also in black, whose beard flowed down over his breast. When the King of the city saw this great host, he said to the other Kings, 'Praised be God the Most High, by whose leave ye are met here, all in one day, and proved all known one to the other! But what vast army is this that covers the country?' 'Have no fear of them,' answered they; 'we are here three Kings, each with a great army, and if they be enemies, we will join thee in doing battle with them, were three times their number added to them.' As they were talking, up came an envoy from the approaching host, making for the city. They brought him before the four Kings and he kissed the earth and said, 'The King my master comes from the land of the Persians; many years ago he lost his son and is seeking him in all countries. If he find him with you, well and good; but if he find him not, there will be war between him and you, and he will lay waste your city.' 'That shall he not,' rejoined Kemerezzeman; 'but how is thy master called in the land of the Persians?' 'He is called King Shehriman, lord of the Khalidan Islands,' answered the envoy; 'and he hath levied these troops in the lands traversed by him, whilst seeking his son.' When Kemerezzeman heard his father's name, he gave a great cry and fell down in a swoon; then, presently coming to himself, he wept sore and said to Amjed and Asaad, 'Go, O my sons, with the messenger: salute your grandfather, King Shehriman, and give him glad tidings of me, for he mourns my loss and even now wears black for my sake.' Then he told the other Kings all that had befallen him in his youth, at which they all wondered and mounting with him, repaired to his father, whom he saluted, and they embraced and fell down in a swoon, for excess of joy. When they revived, Kemerezzeman acquainted his father with all his adventures, and the other Kings saluted Shehriman. Then they married Merjaneh to Asaad and sent her back to her kingdom, charging her not to leave them without news of her. Moreover, Amjed took Bustan, Behram's daughter, to wife, and they all set out for the City of Ebony. When they arrived there, Kemerezzeman went in to his father-in-law, King Armanous, and told him all that had befallen him and how he had found his sons; whereat Armanous rejoiced and gave him joy of his safe return. Then King Ghaïour went in to his daughter, Queen Budour, and satisfied his longing for her company, and they all abode a month's space in the City of Ebony; after which the King of China and his daughter returned to their own country with their company, taking prince Amjed with them, whom, as soon as Ghaïour was settled again in his kingdom, he made king in his stead. Moreover, Kemerezzeman made Asaad king in his room over the Ebony Islands, with the consent of his grandfather, King Armanous, and set out himself, with his father, King Shehriman, for the Islands of Khalidan. The people of the capital decorated the city in their honour and they ceased not to beat the drums for glad tidings a whole month; nor did Kemerezzeman leave to govern in his father's room, till there overtook them the Destroyer of Delights and the Sunderer of Companies."

"O Shehrzad," said King Shehriyar, "this is indeed a right wonderful story!" "O King," answered she, "it is not more wonderful than that of Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat." "What is that?" asked he, and she said, "I have heard tell, O august King, that

ALAEDDIN ABOU ESH SHAMAT.

There lived once in Cairo, of old time, a merchant named Shemseddin, who was of the best and truest-spoken of the traders of the city and had great store of money and goods and slaves and servants, white and black and male and female. Moreover, he was Provost of the Merchants of Cairo and had a wife, whom he loved and who loved him; but he had lived with her forty years, yet had not been blessed with son or daughter by her. One Friday, as he sat in his shop, he noted that each of the merchants had a son or two or more, sitting in shops like their fathers. Presently, he entered the bath and made the Friday ablution; after which he came out and took the barber's glass, saying, 'I testify that there is no god but God and that Mohammed is His Apostle!' Then he looked at his beard and seeing that the white hairs in it outnumbered the black, bethought himself that hoariness is the harbinger of death. Now his wife knew the time of his coming and had washed and made ready for him; so when he came in to her, she said, 'Good even;' but he replied, 'I see no good.' Then she called for the evening meal and said to her husband, 'Eat, O my lord.' Quoth he, 'I will eat nothing,' and pushing the table away with his foot, turned his back to her. 'Why dost thou thus?' said she. 'What has vexed thee?' And he answered, 'Thou art the cause of my vexation.' 'How so?' asked she. 'This morning,' replied he, 'when I opened my shop, I saw that each of the other merchants had a son or two or more, and I said to myself, "He who took thy father will not spare thee." Now the night I wedded thee, thou madest me swear that I would never take a second wife nor a concubine, Abyssinian or Greek or other, nor would lie a night from thee: and behold, thou art barren, and swiving thee is like boring into the rock.' 'God is my witness,' rejoined she, 'that the fault lies with thee, for that thy seed is thin.' 'And how is it with him whose seed is thin?' asked he, and she, 'He cannot get women with child nor beget children.' 'What thickens seed?' asked he. 'Tell me and I will try it: haply, it will thicken mine.' Quoth she, 'Enquire for it of the druggists.' They slept that night and arose on the morrow, repenting each of having spoken angrily to the other. Then he went to the market and accosting a druggist, said to him, 'Hast thou wherewithal to thicken the seed?' 'I had it, but am spent of it,' answered the druggist; 'ask my neighbour.' So Shemseddin made the round of the bazaar, till he had asked every one; but they all laughed at him and he returned to his shop and sat down, troubled. Now there was in the market a man called Sheikh Mohammed Semsem, who was syndic of the brokers and was given to the use of opium and bang and hashish. He was poor and used to wish Shemseddin good morrow every day; so he came to him according to his wont and saluted him. The merchant returned his salute, and the other, seeing him vexed, said to him, 'O my lord, what hath crossed thee?' Quoth Shemseddin, 'These forty years have I been married to my wife, yet hath she borne me neither son nor daughter; and I am told that the cause of my failure to get her with child is the thinness of my seed; so I have been seeking wherewithal to thicken it, but found it not.' 'I have a thickener,' said Sheikh Mohammed; 'but what wilt thou say to him who makes thy wife conceive by thee, after forty years' barrenness? 'An thou do this,' answered the merchant, 'I will largely reward thee.' 'Then give me a dinar,' rejoined the broker, and Shemseddin said, 'Take these two dinars.' He took them and said, 'Give me also yonder bowl of porcelain.' So he gave it him, and the broker betook himself to a hashish-seller, of whom he bought two ounces of concentrated Turkish opium and equal parts of Chinese cubebs, cinnamon, cloves, cardamoms, white pepper, ginger and mountain lizard[FN#86] and pounding them all together, boiled them in sweet oil; after which he added three ounces of frankincense and a cupful or coriander-seed and macerating the whole, made it into a paste with Greek honey. Then he put the electuary in the bowl and carried it to the merchant, to whom he delivered it, saying, 'This is the seed-thickener, and the manner of using it is this. Make the evening-meal of mutton and house-pigeon, plentifully seasoned and spiced; then take of this electuary with a spoon and wash it down with a draught of boiled date-wine.' So the merchant bought mutton and pigeons and sent them to his wife, bidding her dress them well and lay up the electuary till he should call for it. She did as he bade her and he ate the evening-meal, after which he called for the bowl and ate of the electuary. It liked him well, so he ate the rest and lay with his wife. That very night she conceived by him and after three months, her courses ceased and she knew that she was with child. When the days of her pregnancy were accomplished, the pangs of labour took her and they raised cries of joy. The midwife delivered her with difficulty [of a son], then, taking the new- born child, she pronounced over him the names of Mohammed and Ali and said, 'God is Most Great!' Moreover, she called in his ear the call to prayer; then swathed him and gave him to his mother, who took him and put him to her breast; and he sucked his full and slept. The midwife abode with them three days, till they had made the mothering-cakes and sweetmeats; and they distributed them on the seventh day. Then they sprinkled salt[FN#87] and the merchant, going in to his wife, gave her joy of her safe delivery and said, 'Where is the gift of God?' So they brought him a babe of surpassing beauty, the handiwork of the Ever-present Orderer of all things, whoever saw him would have deemed him a yearling child, though he was but seven days old. Shemseddin looked on his face and seeing it like a shining full moon, with moles on both cheeks, said to his wife, 'What hast thou named him?' 'If it were a girl,' answered she, 'I had named her; but it is a boy, so none shall name him but thou.' Now the people of that time used to name their children by omens; and whilst the merchant and his wife were taking counsel of the name, they heard one say to his friend, 'Harkye, my lord Alaeddin!' So the merchant said, 'We will call him Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat.'[FN#88] Then he committed the child to the nurses, and he drank milk two years, after which they weaned him and he grew up and throve and walked upon the earth. When he came to seven years old, they put him in a chamber under the earth, for fear of the evil eye, and his father said, 'He shall not come out, till his beard grows.' And he gave him in charge to a slave-girl and a black slave; the former dressed him his meals and the latter carried them to him. Then his father circumcised him and made him a great feast; after which he brought him a doctor of the law, who taught him to write and repeat the Koran and other parts of knowledge, till he became an accomplished scholar. One day, the slave, after bringing him the tray of food, went away and forgot to shut the trap-door after him: so Alaeddin came forth and went in to his mother, with whom was a company of women of rank. As they sat talking, in came he upon them, as he were a drunken white slave,[FN#89] for the excess of his beauty; and when they saw him, they veiled their faces and said to his mother, 'God requite thee, O such an one! How canst thou let this strange slave in upon us? Knowest thou not that modesty is a point of the Faith?' 'Pronounce the name of God,'[FN#90] answered she. 'This is my son, the darling of my heart and the son of the Provost Shemseddin.' Quoth they, 'We never knew that thou hadst a son:' and she, 'His father feared the evil eye for him and shut him up in a chamber under the earth, nor did we mean that he should come out, before his beard was grown; but it would seem as if the slave had unawares left the door open, and he hath come out.' The women gave her joy of him, and he went out from them into the courtyard, where he seated himself in the verandah.[FN#91] Presently, in came the slaves with his father's mule, and he said to them, 'Whence comes this mule?' Quoth they, 'Thy father rode her to the shop, and we have brought her back.' 'And what is my father's trade?' asked he. And they replied, 'He is Provost of the merchants of Cairo and Sultan of the Sons of the Arabs.' Then he went in to his mother and said to her, 'O my mother, what is my father's trade?' Said she, 'He is a merchant and Provost of the merchants of Cairo and Sultan of the Sons of the Arabs. His slaves consult him not in selling aught whose price is less than a thousand dinars, but sell it at their own discretion; nor doth any merchandise, little or much, enter or leave Cairo, without passing through his hands; for, O my son, God the Most Great hath given thy father wealth past count.' 'Praised be God,' exclaimed he, 'that I am son of the Sultan of the Sons of the Arabs and that my father is Provost of the merchants! But why, O my mother, did you put me in the underground chamber and leave me prisoner there?' 'O my son,' answered she, 'we did this for fear of (men's) eyes, for it is true that the evil eye hath power to harm and the most part of the sojourners in the tombs are of its victims.' 'O my mother,' rejoined he, 'where is a place of refuge against destiny? Verily, taking care estoppeth not fate nor is there any escape from that which is written. He who took my grandfather will not spare myself nor my father; for, though he live to-day, he shall not live to-morrow. And when my father dies and I come forth and say, "I am Alaeddin, son of Shemseddin the merchant," none of the people will believe me, but the aged will say, "Never in our lives saw we a son or a daughter of Shemseddin." Then the Treasury will come down and take my father's estate; and may Allah have mercy on him who saith, "The noble dies and his wealth passes away and the meanest of men take his women." So do thou, O my mother, speak to my father, that he take me with him to the market and set me up in a shop with merchandise and teach me to buy and sell and give and take.' 'O my son,' answered his mother, 'when thy father returns, I will tell him this.' So when the merchant came home, he found his son sitting with his mother and said to her, 'Why hast thou brought him forth of the underground chamber?' 'O my cousin,' answered she, 'it was not I that brought him out; but the servants forgot to shut the door and left it open; so he came forth and came in to me, as I sat with a company of women of rank.' And she went on to repeat to him what the boy had said; and Shemseddin said to the latter, 'O my son, to- morrow, God willing, I will take thee with me to the market; but I would have thee know that the commerce of the markets and the shops demands good manners and an accomplished carriage in all conditions.' So Alaeddin passed the night, rejoicing in his father's promise; and on the morrow the merchant carried him to the bath and clad him in a suit worth much money. As soon as they had broken their fast and drunken sherbets, Shemseddin mounted his mule and rode to the market, followed by his son; but when the market-folk saw their Provost making towards them, followed by a youth as he were a piece of the moon on its fourteenth night, they said, one to another, 'See yonder boy behind the Provost of the merchants. Verily, we thought well of him; but he is like the leek, grayheaded and green at the heart.' And Sheikh Mohammed Semsem before mentioned, the Deputy of the market, said, 'O merchants, never will we accept the like of him for our chief.' Now it was the custom, when the Provost came from his house and sat down in his shop of a morning, for the Deputy of the market and the rest of the merchants to go in a body to his ship and recite to him the opening chapter of the Koran, after which they wished him good morrow and went away, each to his shop. Shemseddin seated himself in his shop as usual, but the merchants come not to him as of wont; so he called the Deputy and said to him, 'Why come not the merchants together as usual?' 'I know not how to tell thee,' answered Mohammed Semsem; 'for they have agreed to depose thee from the headship of the market and to recite the first chapter to thee no more.' 'And why so?' asked Shemseddin. 'What boy is this that sits beside thee,' asked the Deputy, 'and thou a man of years and chief of the merchants? Is he a slave or akin to thy wife? Verily, I think thou lovest him and inclinest [unlawfully] to the boy.' With this, the Provost cried out at him, saying, 'God confound thee, hold thy peace! This is my son.' 'Never knew we that thou hadst a son,' rejoined the Deputy; and Shemseddin answered, 'When thou gavest me the seed-thickener, my wife conceived and bore this youth, whom I reared in a chamber under the earth, for fear of the evil eye, nor was it my purpose that he should come forth, till he could take his beard in his hand. However, his mother would not agree to this, and he would have me bring him to the market and stock him a shop and teach him to sell and buy.' So the Deputy returned to the other merchants and acquainted them with the truth of the case, whereupon they all arose and going in a body to Shemseddin's shop, stood before him and recited the first chapter of the Koran to him; after which they gave him joy of his son and said to him, 'God prosper root and branch! But even the poorest of us, when son or daughter is born to him, needs must he make a pot of custard and bid his friends and acquaintances; yet thou hast not done this.' Quoth he, 'This is your due from me; be our rendezvous in the garden.' So next morning, he sent the carpet- layer to the pavilion in the garden and bade him furnish it. Moreover, he sent thither all that was needful for cooking, such as sheep and butter and so forth, and spread two tables, one in the saloon and another in the upper chamber. Then he and his son girded themselves, and he said to the latter, 'O my son, when a graybeard enters, I will meet him and carry him into the upper chamber and seat him at the table; and do thou, in like manner, receive the beardless youths and seat them at the table in the saloon.' 'O my father,' asked Alaeddin, 'why dost thou spread two tables, one for men and another for youths?' 'O my son,' answered Shemseddin, 'the beardless boy is ashamed to eat with men.' And his son was content with this answer. So when the merchants arrived, Shemseddin received the men and seated them in the upper chamber, whilst Alaeddin received the youths and seated them in the saloon. Then the servants set on food and the guests ate and drank and made merry, whilst the attendants served them with sherbets and perfumed them with the fragrant smoke of scented woods; and the elders fell to conversing of matters of science and tradition. Now there was amongst them a merchant called Mehmoud of Balkh, a Muslim by profession but at heart a Magian, a man of lewd life, who had a passion for boys. He used to buy stuffs and merchandise of Alaeddin's father; and when he saw the boy, one look at his face cost him a thousand sighs and Satan dangled the jewel before his eyes, so that he was taken with desire and mad passion for him and his heart was filled with love of him. So he arose and made for the youths, who rose to receive him. At this moment, Alaeddin, being taken with an urgent occasion, withdrew to make water; whereupon Mehmoud turned to the other youths and said to them, 'If ye will incline Alaeddin's mind to journeying with me, I will give each of you a dress worth much money.' Then he returned to the men's party; and when Alaeddin came back, the youths rose to receive him and seated him in the place of honour. Presently, one of them said to his neighbour, 'O my lord Hassan, tell me how thou camest by the capital on which thou tradest.' 'When I came to man's estate,' answered Hassan, 'I said to my father, "O my father, give me merchandise." "O my son," answered he, "I have none by me: but go thou to some merchant and take of him money and traffic with it and learn to buy and sell and give and take." So I went to one of the merchants and borrowed of him a thousand dinars, with which I bought stuffs and carrying them to Damascus, sold them there at a profit of two for one. Then I bought Syrian stuffs and carrying them to Aleppo, disposed of them there at a like profit; after which I bought stuffs of Aleppo and repaired with them to Baghdad, where I sold them with the same result; nor did I cease to buy and sell, till I was worth nigh ten thousand dinars.' Each of the others told a like tale, till it came to Alaeddin's turn, when they said to him, 'And thou, O my lord Alaeddin?' Quoth he, 'I was brought up in a chamber underground and came forth from it but this week and I do but go to the shop and return home.' 'Thou art used to abide at home,' rejoined they, 'and knowest not the delight of travel, for travel is for men only.' 'I reck not of travel,' answered he, 'and value ease above all things.' Whereupon quoth one to the other, 'This youth is like the fish: when he leaves the water he dies.' Then they said to him, 'O Alaeddin, the glory of the sons of the merchants is not but in travel for the sake of gain.' Their talk angered him and he left them, weeping-eyed and mourning-hearted, and mounting his mule, returned home. When his mother saw him thus, she said to him, 'What ails thee to weep, O my son?' And he answered, 'All the sons of the merchants made mock of me and said to me, "There is no glory for a merchant's son save in travel for gain."' 'O my son,' rejoined she, 'hast thou a mind for travel?' 'Yes,' said he. 'And whither wilt thou go?' asked she. 'To the city of Baghdad,' answered he; 'for there folk make a profit of two to one on their goods.' 'O my son,' said she, 'thy father is a very rich man, and if he provide thee not with merchandise, I will do so of my own monies.' Quoth he, 'The best of favours is that which is quickly bestowed; if it is to be, now is the time for it.' So she called the servants and sent them for packers; then opening a store-house, brought out ten loads of stuffs, which the packers made up into bales for him. Meanwhile Shemseddin missed his son and enquiring after him, was told that he had mounted and gone home; so he too mounted and followed him. When he entered the house, he saw the bales packed ready and asked what they were; whereupon his wife told him what had passed between Alaeddin and the young merchants and he said, 'O my son, may God curse foreign travel! Verily, the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve) hath said, "It is of a man's good fortune that he have his livelihood in his own land;" and it was said of the ancients, "Leave travel, though but for a mile."' Then he said to his son, 'Art thou indeed resolved to travel and wilt thou not turn back from it?' 'Needs must I journey to Baghdad with merchandise,' answered Alaeddin, 'else will I put off my clothes and don a dervish's habit and go a-wandering over the world.' Quoth Shemseddin, 'I am no lackgood, but have great plenty of wealth and with me are stuffs and merchandise befitting every country in the world.' Then he showed him his goods and amongst the rest, forth bales ready packed, with the price, a thousand dinars, written on each, and said to him, 'Take these forty loads, together with those thy mother gave thee, and set out under the safeguard of God the Most High. But, O my son, I fear for thee a certain wood in thy way, called the Lion's Copse, and a valley called the Valley of Dogs, for there lives are lost without mercy.' 'How so?' asked Alaeddin. 'Because of a Bedouin highwayman, hight Ajlan,' answered his father, 'who harbours there.' Quoth Alaeddin, 'Fortune is with God; if any part in it be mine, no harm will befall me.' Then they rode to the cattle market, where a muleteer alighted from his mule and kissing the Provost's hand, said to him, 'O my lord, by Allah, it is long since thou hast employed me to carry merchandise for thee!' 'Every time hath its fortune and its men,' answered Shemseddin; 'and may God have mercy on him who said:

An old man went walking the ways of the world, So bowed and so
     bent that his beard swept his knee.
"What makes thee go doubled this fashion?" quoth I. He answered
     (and spread out his hands unto me),
"My youth hath escaped me; 'tis lost in the dust, And I bend me
     to seek it, where'er it may be."

O captain,'[FN#92] added he, 'it is not I, but this my son that is minded to travel.' 'God preserve his to thee!' said the muleteer. Then Shemseddin made a contract between Alaeddin and the muleteer, appointing that the former should be to the latter as a son, and gave him into his charge, saying, 'Take these hundred dinars for thy men.' Moreover, he bought his son threescore mules and a lamp and covering of honour for the tomb of Sheikh Abdulcadir el Jilani[FN#93] and said to him, 'O my son, I am leaving thee, and this is thy father in my stead: whatsoever he biddeth thee, do thou obey him.' So saying, he returned home with the mules and servants and they made recitations of the Koran and held a festival that night in honour of the Sheikh Abdulcadir. On the morrow, Shemseddin gave his son ten thousand dinars, saying, 'O my son, when thou comest to Baghdad, if thou find stuffs brisk of sale, sell them; but if they be dull, spend of these dinars.' Then they loaded the mules and taking leave of their friends, set out on their journey.

Now Mehmoud of Balkh had made ready his own venture for Baghdad and set up his tents without the city, saying in himself, 'I shall not enjoy this youth but in the desert, where there is neither spy not spoil-sport to trouble me.' It chanced that he had in hand a thousand dinars of Shemseddin's monies, the balance of a dealing between them; so he went to the Provost and bade him farewell; and he said to him, 'Give the thousand dinars to my son Alaeddin,' and commended the latter to his care, saying, 'He is as it were thy son.' Accordingly, Alaeddin joined company with Mehmoud, who charged the youth's cook to dress nothing for him, but himself provided him and his company with meat and drink. Now he had four houses, one at Cairo, another at Damascus, a third at Aleppo and a fourth at Baghdad. So they set out and journeyed over deserts and plains, till they drew near Damascus, when Mehmoud sent his servant to Alaeddin, whom he found reading. He went up to him and kissed his hands, and Alaeddin asked him what he sought. 'My master salutes thee,' answered the slave, 'and craves thy company to a banquet in his house.' Quoth the youth, 'I must consult my father Kemaleddin, the captain of the caravan.' So he consulted the muleteer, who said, 'Do not go.' Then they left Damascus and journeyed on till they came to Aleppo, where Mehmoud made a second entertainment and sent to bid Alaeddin; but the muleteer again forbade him. Then they departed Aleppo and fared on, till they came within a day's journey of Baghdad. Here Mehmoud repeated his invitation a third time and Kemaleddin once more forbade Alaeddin to accept it; but the latter said, 'I must needs go.' So he rose and girding on a sword under his clothes, repaired to the tent of Mehmoud of Balkh, who came to meet him and saluted him. Then he set a sumptuous repast before him, and they ate and drank and washed their hands. Presently, Mehmoud bent towards Alaeddin, to kiss him, but the youth received the kiss on his hand and said to him, 'What wilt thou do?' Quoth Mehmoud, 'I brought thee hither that I might do delight with thee in this jousting-ground, and we will comment the words of him who saith:

Can't be thou wilt with us a momentling alight, Like to an
     ewekin's milk or what not else of white,
And cat what liketh thee of dainty wastel-bread And take what
     thou mayst get of silver small and bright
And bear off what thou wilt, sans grudging or constraint,
     Spanling or full-told span or fistling filled outright?'

Then he would have laid hands on Alaeddin; but he rose and drawing his sword, said to him, 'Shame on thy gray hairs! Hast thou no fear of God, and He of exceeding great might?[FN#94] May He have mercy on him who saith:

Look thou thy hoariness preserve from aught that may it stain, For whiteness still to take attaint is passing quick and fain.

This merchandise,' added he, 'is a trust from God and may not be sold. If I sold it to other than thee for gold, I would sell it thee for silver: but, by Allah, O filthy one, I will never again company with thee!' Then he returned to Kemaleddin and said to him, 'Yonder man is a lewd fellow and I will no longer consort with him nor suffer his company by the way.' 'O my son,' replied the muleteer, 'did I not forbid thee to go with him? But if we part company with him, I fear destruction for ourselves; so let us still make one caravan.' But Alaeddin said, 'It may not be: I will never again travel with him.' So he loaded his beasts and journeyed onward, he and his company, till they came to a valley, where Alaeddin would have halted, but the muleteer said to him, 'Do not halt here; rather let us fare forward and quicken our pace, so haply we may reach Baghdad before the gates are closed, for they open and shut them with the sun, for fear the schismatics should take the city and throw the books of learning into the Tigris.' 'O my father,' replied Alaeddin, 'I came not to Baghdad with this merchandise, for the sake of traffic, but to divert myself with the sight of foreign lands.' And Kemaleddin rejoined, 'O my son, we fear for thee and for thy goods from the wild Arabs.' But he answered, 'Harkye, sirrah, art thou master or servant? I will not enter Baghdad till the morning, that the townsfolk may see my merchandise and know me.' 'Do as thou wilt,' said the muleteer; 'I have given thee good counsel, and thou must judge for thyself.' Then Alaeddin bade them unload the mules and pitch the tent; so they did his bidding and abode there till the middle of the night, when the youth went out to do an occasion and seeing something gleaming afar off, said to Kemaleddin, 'O captain, what is yonder glittering?' The muleteer sat up and considering it straitly, knew it for the glint of spear-heads and Bedouin swords and harness. Now this was a troop of Bedouins under a chief called Ajlan Abou Naib, Sheikh of the Arabs, and when the neared the camp and saw the baggage, they said, one to another, 'O night of booty!' Quoth Kemaleddin, 'Avaunt, O meanest of Arabs!' But Abou Naib smote him with his javelin in the breast, that the point came out gleaming from his back, and he fell down dead at the tent-door. Then cried the water-carrier, 'Avaunt, O foulest of Arabs!' and one of them smote him with a sword upon the shoulder, that it issued shining from the tendons of the throat and he also fell slain. Then the Bedouins fell upon the caravan from all sides and slew the whole company except Alaeddin, after which they loaded the mules with the spoil and made off. Quoth Alaeddin to himself, 'Thy dress and mule will be the death of thee.' So he put off his cassock and threw it over the back of a mule, remaining in his shirt and drawers alone; after which he went to the door of the tent and finding there a pool of blood from the slain, rolled himself in it, till he was as a slain man, drowned in his blood. Meanwhile Ajlan said to his men, 'O Arabs, was this caravan bound from Egypt for Baghdad or from Baghdad for Egypt?' 'It was bound from Egypt for Baghdad,' answered they. 'Then,' said he, 'return to the slain, for methinks the owner of the caravan is not dead.' So they turned back and fell to larding the slain with lance and sword-thrusts, [lest any life were left in them,] till they came to Alaeddin, who had laid himself among the dead bodies. Quoth they, 'Thou dost but feign thyself dead, but we will make an end of thee.' So one of the Bedouins drew his javelin and should have plunged it into his breast. But he cried out, 'Save me, O my lord Abdulcadir!' and behold, he saw a hand turn the lance away from his breast to that of the muleteer, so that it pierced the latter and spared himself. Then the Bedouins made off; and when Alaeddin saw that the birds were flown with their purchase, he rose and set off running; but Abou Naib looked back and said, 'O Arabs, I see somewhat moving.' So one of the Bedouins turned back and spying Alaeddin running, called out to him, saying, 'Flight shall not avail thee, and we after thee;' and he smote his mare with his fist and pricked after him. Then Alaeddin, seeing before him a watering tank and a cistern beside it, climbed up into a niche in the cistern and stretching himself along, feigned sleep and said, 'O gracious Protector, cover me with the veil of Thy protection, that may not be torn away!' Presently, the Bedouin came up to the cistern and standing in his stirrups put out one hand to lay hold of Alaeddin; but he said 'Save me, O my lady Nefiseh![FN#95] Now is thy time!' And behold, a scorpion stung the Bedouin in the palm and he cried out, saying, 'Help, O Arabs! I am stung;' and fell off his mare. His comrades came up to him and set him on horseback again, saying, 'What hath befallen thee?' Quoth he, 'A scorpion stung me.' And they departed, leaving Alaeddin in the niche.

Meanwhile, Mehmoud of Balkh loaded his beasts and fared on till he came to the Valley of Dogs, where he found Alaeddin's men lying slain. At this he rejoiced and went on till he reached the reservoir. Now his mule was athirst and turned aside to drink, but took fright at Alaeddin's shadow in the water and started; whereupon Mehmoud raised his eyes and seeing Alaeddin lying in the niche, stripped to his shirt and trousers, said to him, 'Who hath dealt thus with thee and left thee in this ill plight?' 'The Bedouins,' answered Alaeddin, and Mehmoud said, 'O my son, the mules and the baggage were thy ransom; so do thou comfort thyself with the saying of the poet:

So but a man may win to save his soul alive from death, But as the paring of his nail his wealth he reckoneth.

But now, O my son,' continued he, 'come down and fear no hurt.' So he came down from the niche and Mehmoud mounted him on a mule and fared on with him, till they reached Baghdad, where he brought him to his own house and bade his servants carry him to the bath, saying to him, 'O my son, the goods and money were the ransom of thy life; but, if thou wilt harken to me, I will give thee the worth of that thou hast lost, twice told.' When he came out of the bath, Mehmoud carried him into a saloon with four estrades, decorated with gold, and let bring a tray of all manner meats. So they ate and drank and Mehmoud turned to Alaeddin and would have taken a kiss of him; but he received it upon his hand and said, 'Dost thou persist in thy evil designs upon me? Did I not tell thee that, were I wont to sell this merchandise to other than thee for gold, I would sell it thee for silver?' Quoth Mehmoud, 'I will give thee neither mule nor clothes nor merchandise save at this price; for I am mad for love of thee, and God bless him who said:

Abou Bilal his saw of an object of love, Which from one of his
     elders himself did derive
"The lover's not healed of the pangs of desire By clips nor by
     kisses, excepting he swive."

'This may never be,' replied Alaeddin. 'Take back thy dress and thy mule and open the door, that I may go out.' So he opened the door, and Alaeddin went forth and walked on, with the dogs yelping at his heels, till he saw the door of a mosque open and going in, took shelter in the vestibule. Presently, he espied a light approaching and examining it, saw that it came from a pair of lanterns borne by two slaves before two merchants, an old man of comely aspect and a youth. He heard the latter say to the other, 'O my uncle, I conjure thee by Allah, give me back my wife!' The old man replied, 'Did I not warn thee, many a time, when the oath of divorce was always in thy mouth, as it were thy Koran?' Then he turned and seeing Alaeddin, as he were a piece of the moon, said to him, 'Who art thou, O my son?' Quoth he, 'I am Alaeddin, son of Shemseddin, Provost of the merchants at Cairo. I besought my father for merchandise; so he packed me fifty loads of goods and gave me ten thousand dinars, wherewith I set out for Baghdad; but when I came to the Lion's Copse, the Bedouins fell upon me and took all I had. So I entered this city, knowing not where to pass the night, and seeing this place, I took shelter here.' 'O my son,' said the old man, 'what sayst thou to a thousand dinars and a suit of clothes and a mule worth other two thousand?' 'To what end wilt thou give me this?' asked Alaeddin, and the other answered, 'This young man, whom thou seest, is the only son of my brother and I have an only daughter called Zubeideh the Lutanist, who is endowed with beauty and grace. I married her to him and he loves her, but she hates him. Now he took an oath of triple divorcement and broke it.[FN#96] As soon as she heard of this, she left him, and he egged on all the folk to intercede with me to restore her to him; but I told him that this could not lawfully be done but by an intermediate marriage, and we have agreed to make some stranger the intermediary, so none may taunt him with this affair. So, as thou art a stranger, come with us and we will marry thee to her; thou shalt lie with her to-night and on the morrow divorce her, and we will give thee what I said.' 'By Allah,' quoth Alaeddin to himself, 'it were better to pass the night with a bride on a bed in a house, than in the streets and vestibules!' So he went with them to the Cadi, who, as soon as he saw Alaeddin, was moved to love of him and said to the old man, 'What is your will?' Quoth he, 'We wish to marry this young man to my daughter, as an intermediary, and the contract is to be for ten thousand dinars, dowry precedent, for which he shall give us a bond. If he divorce her in the morning, we will give him a thousand dinars and a mule and dress worth other two thousand; but if he divorce her not, he shall pay down the ten thousand dinars, according to the bond.' The Cadi drew up the marriage contract to this effect and the lady's father took a bond for the dowry. Then he took Alaeddin and clothing him anew, carried him to his daughter's house, where he left him at the door, whilst he himself went in to the young lady and gave her the bond, saying, 'Take the bond of thy dowry, for I have married thee to a handsome youth by name Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat; so do thou use him with all consideration.' Then he left her and went to his own lodging. Now the lady's cousin had an old waiting- woman, to whom he had done many a kindness and who used to visit Zubeideh; so he said to her, 'O my mother, if my cousin Zubeideh see this handsome young man, she will never after accept of me; so I would fain have thee contrive to keep them apart.' 'By thy youth,' answered she, 'I will not suffer him to approach her!' Then she went to Alaeddin and said to him, 'O my son, I have a warning to give thee, for the love of God the Most High, and do thou follow my advice, for I fear for thee from this damsel: let her lie alone and handle her not nor draw near to her.' 'Why so?' asked he, and she answered, 'Because her body is full of elephantiasis and I fear lest she infect thy fair youth.' Quoth he, 'I have no need of her.' Moreover, she went to the lady and said the like to her of Alaeddin; and she replied, 'I have no need of him, but will let him lie alone, and on the morrow he shall go his way.' Then she called a slave-girl and said to her, 'Take him the tray of food, that he may sup.' So the maid carried him the tray of food and set it before him, and he ate his fill; after which he sat down and fell to reciting the chapter called Ya-sin[FN#97] in a sweet voice. The lady listened to him and found his voice as melodious as the psalms of David, which when she heard, she exclaimed, 'Beshrew the old hag that told me that he was affected with leprosy! Surely, that is a lie against him, for this is not the voice of one who hath such a disease.' Then she took a lute of Indian workmanship and tuning it, sang the following verses, in a voice, whose music would stay the birds in mid-heaven:

I am enamoured of a fawn with black and languorous eyes; The
     willow-branches, as he goes, are jealous of him still.
Me he rejects and others 'joy his favours in my stead. This is
     indeed the grace of God He gives to whom He will.

As soon as he had finished his recitation, he sang the following verse in reply:

My salutation to the shape that through the wede doth show And to
     the roses in the cheeks' full-flowering meads that blow!

When she heard this, her inclination for him redoubled and she rose and lifted the curtain; and Alaeddin, seeing her, repeated these verses:

She shineth forth, a moon, and bends, a willow-wand, And breathes
     out ambergris and gazes, a gazelle.
Meseems as if grief loved my heart and when from her Estrangement
     I abide, possession to it fell.

Thereupon she came forward, swinging her hips and swaying gracefully from side to side with a shape the handiwork of Him whose bounties are hidden, and each of them stole a glance at the other, that cost them a thousand regrets. Then, for that the arrows of her glances overcame his heart, he repeated the following verses:

The moon of the heavens she spied and called to my thought The
     nights of our loves in the meadows under her shine.
Yea, each of us saw a moon, but, sooth to say, It was her
     eyes[FN#98] that I saw and she saw mine.[FN#99]

Then she drew near him, and when there remained but two paces between them, he repeated these verses:

She took up three locks of her hair and spread them out one night
     And straight three nights discovered at once unto my sight.
Then did she turn her visage up to the moon of the sky And showed
     me two moons at one season, both burning clear and bright.

Then said he to her, 'Keep off from me, lest thou infect me.' Whereupon she uncovered her wrist to him, and he saw that it was cleft [like a peach] and its whiteness was as the whiteness of silver. Then said she, 'Hold off from me, thou, for thou art stricken with leprosy, and belike thou wilt infect me.' 'Who told thee I was a leper?' asked he, and she said, 'The old woman.' Quoth he, 'It was she told me that thou wast afflicted with elephantiasis.' So saying, he bared his arms and showed her that his skin was like virgin silver, whereupon she pressed him to her bosom and they clipped one another. Then she took him and lying down on her back, did off her trousers, whereupon that which his father had left him rose up [in rebellion] against him and he said, 'To it, O elder of yards, O father of nerves!' And putting his hands to her flanks, set the nerve of sweetness to the mouth of the cleft and thrust on to the wicket-gate. His passage was by the gate of victories [or openings] and after this he entered the Monday market and those of Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday and finding the carpet after the measure of the estrade, he plied [or turned] the box within its sheath [or cover] till he came to [the end of] it.[FN#100] When it was morning, he exclaimed, 'Alas for delight that is not fulfilled! The raven[FN#101] takes it and flies away!' 'What means this saying?' asked she, and he answered, 'O my lady, I have but this hour to abide with thee.' Quoth she, 'Who saith so?' and he, 'Thy father made me give him a bond to pay ten thousand dinars to thy dowry; and except I pay it this very day, they will lay me in prison therefor in the Cadi's house; and now my hand lacketh one para of the sum.' 'O my lord,' said she, 'is the marriage bond in thy hand or in theirs?' 'In mine,' answered he, 'but I have nothing.' Quoth she, 'The matter is easy; fear nothing. Take these hundred dinars; if I had more, I would give thee what thou lackest; but my father, for his love of my cousin, hath transported all his good, even to my trinkets, from my lodging to his. But when they send thee a serjeant of the court and the Cadi and my father bid thee divorce, answer thou, "By what code is it right that I should marry at nightfall and divorce in the morning?" Then kiss the Cadi's hand and give him a present, and in like manner kiss the Assessors' hands and give each of them half a score dinars. So they will all speak with thee and if they say to thee, "Why dost thou not divorce her and take the thousand dinars and the mule and suit of clothes, according to contract?" do thou answer, "Every hair of her head is worth a thousand dinars to me and I will never put her away, neither will I take a suit of clothes nor aught else." If the Cadi say to thee, "Then pay down the dowry," do thou reply, "I am straitened at this present;" whereupon he and the Assessors will deal friendly with thee and allow thee time to pay.' Whilst they were talking, the Cadi's officer knocked at the door; so Alaeddin went down and the man said to him, 'The Cadi cites thee to answer thy father-in-law's summons.' Alaeddin gave him five dinars and said to him, 'O serjeant, by what code am I bound to marry at night and divorce next morning?' 'By none of ours,' answered the serjeant; 'and if thou be ignorant of the law, I will act as thine advocate.' Then they went to the court and the Cadi said to Alaeddin, 'Why dost thou not divorce the woman and take what falls to thee by the contract?' With this he went up to the Cadi and kissing his hand, put in it fifty dinars and said, 'O our lord the Cadi, by what code is it right that I should marry at night and divorce in the morning in my own despite?' 'Divorce on compulsion,' replied the Cadi, 'is sanctioned by no school of the Muslims.' Then said the lady's father, 'If thou wilt not divorce, pay me the ten thousand dinars, her dowry.' Quoth Alaeddin, 'Give me three days' time.' But the Cadi said, 'Three days is not enough; he shall give thee ten.' So they agreed to this and bound him to pay the dowry or divorce after ten days. Then he left them and taking meat and rice and butter and what else of food he needed, returned to his wife and told her what had passed; whereupon she said, 'Between night and day, wonders may happen: and God bless him who saith:

Be mild what time thou'rt ta'en with anger and despite And
     patient, if there fall misfortune on thy head.
Indeed, the nights are quick and great with child by time And of
     all wond'rous things are hourly brought to bed.

Then she rose and made ready food and brought the tray, and they ate and drank and made merry awhile. Presently, Alaeddin besought her to let him hear some music; so she took the lute and played a measure, that would have made the very rock dance for delight, and the strings cried out, in ecstasy, 'O Loving One!'[FN#102] after which she passed into a livelier measure. As they were thus passing the time in mirth and delight, there came a knocking at the door and Zubeideh said to Alaeddin, 'Go and see who is at the door.' So he went down and finding four dervishes standing without, said to them, 'What do you want?' 'O my lord,' answered they, 'we are foreign dervishes, the food of whose souls is music and dainty verse, and we would fain take our pleasure with thee this night. On the morrow we will go our way, and with God the Most High be thy reward; for we adore music and there is not one of us but hath store of odes and songs and ballads.' 'I must consult [my wife],' answered he and returned and told Zubeideh, who said, 'Open the door to them.' So he went down again and bringing them up, made them sit down and welcomed them. Then he brought them food, but they would not eat and said, 'O my lord, our victual is to magnify God with out hearts and hear music with our ears: and God bless him who saith:

We come for your company only, and not for your feasts; For eating for eating's sake is nought but a fashion of beasts.

Just now,' added they, 'we heard pleasant music here; but when we knocked, it ceased; and we would fain know whether the player was a slave-girl, white of black, or a lady.' 'It was this my wife,' answered he and told them all that had befallen him, adding, 'My father-in-law hath bound me to pay a dowry of ten thousand dinars for her and they have given me ten days' time.' 'Have no care and think nought but good,' said one of the dervishes; 'for I am head of the convent and have forty dervishes under my hand. I will gather thee from them the ten thousand dinars and thou shalt pay thy father-in-law the dowry. But now bid thy wife make us music, that we may be heartened and solaced, for to some music is food, to others medicine and to others refreshment.'[FN#103] Now these four dervishes were none other than the Khalif Haroun er Reshid and his Vizier Jaafer the Barmecide and Abou Nuwas ben Hani[FN#104] and Mesrour the headsman; and the reason of their coming thither was that the Khalif, being heavy at heart, had called his Vizier and signified to him his wish to go forth and walk about the city, to divert himself. So they all four donned dervish habits and went out and walked about, till they came to Zubeideh's house and hearing music, were minded to know the cause. They spent the night in mirth and harmony and discourse, till the morning, when the Khalif laid a hundred dinars under the prayer-carpet and taking leave of Alaeddin, went his way, he and his companions. Presently, Zubeideh lifted the carpet and finding the hundred dinars, gave them to her husband, saying, 'Take these hundred dinars that I have found under the prayer-carpet; the dervishes must have laid them there, without our knowledge.' So he took the money and repairing to the market, bought meat and rice and butter and so forth. When it was night, he lighted the candled and said to Zubeideh, 'The dervishes have not brought the ten thousand dinars that they promised me: but indeed they are poor men.' As they were talking, the dervishes knocked at the door and she said, 'Go down and open to them.' So he went down and bringing them up, said to them, 'Have you brought me the ten thousand dinars?' 'We have not been able to get aught thereof as yet,' answered they, 'but fear nothing: to-morrow, God willing, we will make an alchymic operation for thee. But now bid thy wife play her best to us and gladden our hearts, for we love music.' So she made them music, that would have caused the very rocks to dance; and they passed the night in mirth and converse and good cheer, till the morning appeared with its light and shone, when they took leave of Alaeddin and went their way, after laying other hundred dinars under the carpet. They continued to visit him thus every night for nine nights, and each morning the Khalif put a hundred dinars under the prayer-carpet, till the tenth night, when they came not. Now the reason for their failure to come was that the Khalif had sent to a great merchant, saying to him, 'Bring me fifty loads of stuffs, such as come from Cairo, each worth a thousand dinars, and write on each bale its price; and bring me also a male Abyssinian slave.' The merchant did the bidding of the Khalif, who write a letter to Alaeddin, as from his father Shemseddin, and committed it to the slave, together with the fifty loads and a basin and ewer of gold and other presents, saying to him, 'Take these bales and what else and go to such and such a quarter and enquire for Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat, at the house of the Provost of the merchants.' So the slave took the letter and the goods and went out on his errand.

Meanwhile the lady's first husband went to her father and said to him, 'Come, let us go to Alaeddin and make him divorce my cousin.' So they set out, and when they came to the street in which Zubeideh's house stood, they found fifty mules, laden with stuffs, and a black slave riding on a she-mule. So they said to him, 'Whose goods are these?' 'They belong to my lord Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat,' answered he. 'His father equipped him with merchandise and sent him on a journey to Baghdad; but the Bedouins fell on him and took all he had. So when the news of his despoilment reached his father, he despatched me to him with these fifty loads, in place of those he had lost, besides a mule laden with fifth thousand dinars and a parcel of clothes worth much money and a cloak of sables and a basin and ewer of gold.' When the old merchant heard this, he said, 'He whom thou seekest is my son-in-law and I will show thee his house.' Now Alaeddin was sitting in great concern, when one knocked at the door, and he said, 'O Zubeideh, God is all-knowing! Thy father hath surely sent me an officer from the Cadi or the Chief of the Police.' 'Go down,' said she, 'and see what it is.' So he went down and opening the door, found his father-in-law, with an Abyssinian slave, dusky-hued and pleasant of favour, riding on a mule. When the slave saw him, he alighted and kissed his hands: and Alaeddin said, 'What dost thou want?' Quoth he, 'I am the slave of my load Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat, son of Shemseddin, Provost of the merchants of Cairo, who has sent me to him with this charge.' Then he gave him the letter and Alaeddin, opening it, read what follows:

Harkye, my letter, when my beloved sees thee, Kiss thou the earth
     before him and his shoes.
Look thou go softly and hasten not nor hurry, For in his hands
     are my life and my repose.

Then after the usual salutations from Shemseddin to his son, the letter proceeded thus: 'Know, O my son, that news hath reached me of the slaughter of thy men and the plunder of thy baggage; so I send thee herewith fifty loads of Egyptian stuffs, together with a suit of clothes and a cloak of sables and an ewer and basin of gold. Fear no evil and be not anywise troubled, for, O my son, the goods thou hast lost were the ransom of thy life. Thy mother and the people of the house are well and in good case and send thee many greetings. Moreover, O my son, I hear that they have married thee, by way of intermediation, to the lady Zubeideh the Lutanist and have imposed on thee a dowry of ten thousand dinars; wherefore I send thee also fifty thousand dinars by thy slave Selim, the bearer of these presents, whereout thou mayest pay the dowry and provide thyself with the rest.' When Alaeddin had made an end of reading the letter, he took possession of the goods and turning to the old merchant, said to him, 'O my father-in-law, take the ten thousand dinars, thy daughter's dowry, and take also the loads of goods and dispose of them, and thine be the profit; only return me the cost-price.' 'Nay, by Allah,' answered he, 'I will take nothing; and as for thy wife's dowry, do thou settle it with her.' Then they went in to Zubeideh, after the goods had been brought in, and she said to her father, 'O my father, whose goods are these?' 'They belong to thy husband Alaeddin,' answered he; 'his father hath sent them to him in place of those of which the Bedouins spoiled him. Moreover, he hath sent him fifty thousand dinars and a parcel of clothes and a cloak of sables and a riding mule and an ewer and basin of gold. As for the dower, that is thine affair.' Thereupon Alaeddin rose and opening the chest [of money] gave her her dowry. Then said the lady's cousin, 'O my uncle, let him divorce to me my wife;' but the old man replied, 'This may never be now, for the marriage-tie is in his hand.' With this the young man went out, sore afflicted, and returning home, fell sick, for he had received his death-blow; so he took to his bed and presently died. But as for Alaeddin, he went to the market and buying what victual he needed, made a banquet as usual against the night, saying to Zubeideh, 'See these lying dervishes; they promised us and broke their promise.' Quoth she, 'Thou art the son of a Provost of the merchants yet did thy hand lack of a para; how then should it be with poor dervishes?' 'God the Most High hath enabled us to do without them,' answered Alaeddin; 'but never again will I open the door to them.' 'Why so,' asked she, 'seeing that their coming brought us good luck, and moreover, they put a hundred dinars under the prayer-carpet for us every night? So needs must thou open to them, if they come.' So when the day departed with its light and the night came, they lighted the candles and he said to her, 'Come, Zubeideh, make us music.' At this moment some one knocked at the door, and she said, 'Go and see who is at the door.' So he went down and opened it and seeing the dervishes, said, 'Welcome to the liars! Come up.' Accordingly, they went up with him, and he made them sit down and brought them the tray of food. So they ate and drank and made merry and presently said to him, 'O my lord, our hearts have been troubled for thee: what hath passed between thee and thy father-in-law?' 'God hath compensated us beyond our desire,' answered he. 'By Allah,' rejoined they, 'we were in fear for thee and nought kept us from thee but our lack of money.' Quoth he, 'My Lord hath vouchsafed me speedy relief; for my father hath sent me fifty thousand dinars and fifty loads of stuffs, each worth a thousand dinars, besides an Abyssinian slave and a riding mule and a suit of clothes and a basin and an ewer of gold. Moreover, I have made my peace with my father-in- law and my wife is confirmed to me; so praised be God for this!' Presently the Khalif rose to do an occasion; whereupon Jaafer turned to Alaeddin and said to him, 'Look to thy manners, for thou art in the presence of the Commander of the Faithful.' 'How have I failed in good breeding before the Commander of the Faithful,' asked he, 'and which of you is he?' Quoth Jaafer, 'He who went out but now is the Commander of the Faithful and I am the Vizier Jaafer: this is Mesrour the headsman, and this other is Abou Nuwas ben Hani. And now, O Alaeddin, use thy reason and bethink thee how many days' journey it is from Cairo hither.' 'Five-and-forty days' journey,' answered he, and Jaafer rejoined, 'Thy baggage was stolen but ten days ago; so how could the news have reached thy father, and how could he pack thee up other goods and send them to thee five-and-forty days' journey in ten days' time?' 'O my lord,' said Alaeddin, 'and whence then came they?' 'From the Commander of the Faithful,' replied Jaafer, 'of his much affection for thee.' As he spoke, the Khalif entered and Alaeddin, rising, kissed the ground before him and said, 'God keep thee, O Commander of the Faithful, and give thee long life, so the folk may not lack thy bounty and beneficence!' 'O Alaeddin,' replied the Khalif, 'let Zubeideh play us an air, by way of thank-offering for thy deliverance.' So she played him the rarest of measures on the lute, till the very stones shook for delight and the strings cried out for ecstasy, 'O Loving One!'[FN#105] They spent the night after the merriest fashion, and in the morning, the Khalif said to Alaeddin, 'Come to the Divan to-morrow.' 'I hear and obey, O Commander of the Faithful,' answered he, 'so it please God and thou be well and in good case.' So on the morrow he took ten trays and putting a costly present on each, went up with them to the palace. As the Khalif was sitting on the throne, Alaeddin appeared at the door of the Divan, repeating the following verses:

Good fortune and glory still wait on thy days And rubbed in the
     dust be thine envier's nose!
May the days never stint to be white unto thee And black with
     despite be the days of thy foes!

'Welcome, O Alaeddin!' sad the Khalif, and he replied, 'O Commander of the Faithful, the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve) accepted presents; and these ten trays, with what is on them, are my present to thee.' The Khalif accepted his gift and ordering him a robe of honour, made him Provost of the merchants and gave him a seat in the Divan. Presently, his father-in-law came in, and seeing Alaeddin seated in his place and clad in a robe of honour, said to the Khalif, 'O King of the age, why is this man sitting in my place and wearing this robe of honour?' Quoth the Khalif, 'I have made him Provost of the merchants, and thou art deposed; for offices are by investiture and not in perpetuity.' 'Thou hast done well, O Commander of the Faithful,' answered the merchant; 'for he is art and part of us. May God make the best of us the orderers of our affairs! How many a little one hath become great!' Then the Khalif wrote Alaeddin a patent [of investiture] and gave it to the Master of Police, who gave it to the crier and the latter made proclamation in the Divan, saying, 'None is Provost of the merchants but Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat, and it behoves all to give heed to his words and pay him respect and honour and consideration!' Moreover, when the Divan broke up, the Master of the Police took Alaeddin and carried him through the thoroughfares of Baghdad, whilst the crier went before him, making proclamation of his dignity. Next day, Alaeddin opened a shop for his slave Selim and set him therein, to buy and sell, whilst he himself rode to the palace and took his place in the Khalif's Divan.

One day, as he sat in his place, one said to the Khalif, 'O Commander of the Faithful, may thy head survive such an one the boon-companion! He is gone to the mercy of God the Most High, but may thy life be prolonged!' Quoth the Khalif, 'Where is Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat?' So he went up to the Commander of the Faithful, who clad him in a splendid dress of honour and made him his boon- companion in the dead man's room, appointing him a monthly wage of a thousand dinars. He continued to fill his new office till, one day, as he sat in the Divan, according to his wont, an Amir came up with a sword and shield in his hand and said, 'O Commander of the Faithful, mayst thou outlive the Chief of the Sixty, for he is this day dead;' whereupon the Khalif ordered Alaeddin a dress of honour and made him Chief of the Sixty, in place of the dead man, who had neither wife nor child. So Alaeddin laid hands on his estate, and the Khalif said to him, 'Bury him in the earth and take all he hath left of wealth and slaves, male and female.' Then he shook the handkerchief and dismissed the Divan, whereupon Alaeddin went forth, attended by Ahmed ed Denef, captain of the right hand, and Hassan Shouman, captain of the left hand troop of the Khalif's guard, riding at his either stirrup, each with his forty men. Presently, he turned to Hassan Shouman and his men and said to them, 'Plead ye for me with Captain Ahmed ed Denef, that he accept me as his son before God.' And Ahmed ed Denef assented, saying, 'I and my forty men will go before thee to the Divan every day.'

After this, Alaeddin abode in the Khalif's service many days; till one day it chanced that he left the Divan and returning home, dismissed Ahmed ed Denef and his men and sat down with his wife, who lighted the candles and went out of the room upon an occasion. Presently, he heard a great cry and running in haste to see what was the matter, found that it was his wife who had cried out. She was lying prone on the groudn and when he put his hand to her breast, he found her dead. Now her father's house faced that of Alaeddin, and he, hearing her cry out, came in and said, 'What is the matter, O my lord Alaeddin?' 'O my father,' answered he, 'may thy head outlive thy daughter Zubeideh! But the honour we owe the dead is to bury them.' So, on the morrow, they buried her in the earth and her husband and father condoled with each other. Moreover, Alaeddin put on mourning apparel and absented himself from the Divan, abiding tearful-eyed and sorrowful- hearted. After awhile, the Khalif said to Jaafer, 'O Vizier, what is the cause of Alaeddin's absence from the Divan?' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered Jaafer, 'he is in mourning for his wife Zubeideh;' and the Khalif said, 'It behoves us to pay him a visit of condolence.' 'I hear and obey,' replied Jaafer. So they took horse and riding to Alaeddin's house, came in upon him with their attendants, as he sat at home; whereupon he rose to receive them and kissed the earth before the Khalif, who said to him, 'May God abundantly make good thy loss to thee!' 'May He preserve thee to us, O Commander of the Faithful!' answered Alaeddin. Then said the Khalif, 'O Alaeddin, why hast thou absented thyself from the Divan?' And he replied, 'Because of my mourning for my wife Zubeideh, O Commander of the Faithful.' 'Put away grief from thee,' rejoined the prince. 'She is dead and gone to the mercy of God the Most High, and mourning will avail thee nothing.' But Alaeddin said, 'O Commander of the Faithful, I shall never leave mourning for her till I die and they bury me by her side.' Quoth Haroun, 'With God is compensation for every loss, and neither wealth nor device can deliver from death. God bless him who said:

Every son of woman, how long soe'er his life be, Must one day be
     carried upon the bulging bier.
How shall he have pleasure in life or hold it goodly, He unto
     whose cheeks the dust must soon adhere?'

Then, when he had made an end of condoling with him, he charged him not to absent himself from the Divan and returned to his palace. On the morrow, Alaeddin mounted and riding to the court, kissed the ground before the Khalif, who rose from the throne, to greet and welcome him, and bade him take his appointed place in the Divan saying, 'O Alaeddin, thou art my guest to-night.' So presently he carried him into his seraglio and calling a slave- girl named Cout el Culoub, said to her, 'Alaeddin had a wife called Zubeideh, who used to sing to him and solace him of care and trouble; but she is gone to the mercy of God the Most High, and now I desire that thou play him an air of thy rarest fashion on the lute, that he may be diverted from his grief and mourning.' So she rose and made rare music; and the Khalif said to Alaeddin, 'What sayst thou of this damsel's voice?' 'O Commander of the Faithful', answered he, 'Zubeideh's voice was the finer; but she is rarely skilled in touching the lute, and her playing would make a rock dance.' 'Doth she please thee?' asked the Khalif. 'Yes, O Commander of the Faithful,' answered Alaeddin, and Haroun said, 'By the life of my head and the tombs of my forefathers, she is a gift from me to thee, she and her waiting-women!' Alaeddin thought that the Khalif was jesting with him; but, on the morrow, he went in to Cout el Culoub and said to her, 'I have given thee to Alaeddin;' whereat she rejoiced, for she had seen and loved him. Then the Khalif returned to the Divan and calling porters, said to them, 'Set Cout el Culoub and her waiting-women in a litter and carry them, together with her goods, to Alaeddin's house.' So they did as he bade them and left her in the upper chamber of Alaeddin's house, whilst the Khalif sat in the hall of audience till the close of the day, when the Divan broke up and he retired to his harem.

Meanwhile, Cout el Culoub, having taken up her lodging in Alaeddin's house, with her women, forty in all, besides eunuchs, called two of the latter and said to them, 'Sit ye on stools, one on the right and another on the left hand of the door; and when Alaeddin comes home, kiss his hands and say to him, "Our mistress Cout el Culoub bids thee to her in the upper chamber, for the Khalif hath given her to thee, her and her women."' 'We hear and obey,' answered they and did as she bade them. So, when Alaeddin returned, he found two of the Khalif's eunuchs sitting at the door and was amazed and said to himself, 'Surely, this is not my own house; or else what can have happened?' When the eunuchs saw him, they rose and kissing his hands, said to him, 'We are of the Khalif's household and servants to Cout el Culoub, who salutes thee, giving thee to know that the Khalif hath bestowed her on thee, her and her women, and craves thy company.' Quoth Alaeddin, 'Say ye to her, "Thou art welcome; but so long as thou abidest with me, I will not enter thy lodging, for it befits not that what was the master's should become the servant's;" and ask her also what was the sum of her day's expense in the Khalif's palace.' So they went in to her and did his errand to her, and she replied, 'A hundred dinars a day;' whereupon quoth he in himself, 'There was no need for the Khalif to give me Cout el Culoub, that I should be put to such an expense for her; but there is no help for it.' So she abode with him awhile and he assigned her daily a hundred dinars for her maintenance, till, one day, he absented himself from the Divan and the Khalif said to Jaafer, 'O Vizier, I gave Cout el Culoub unto Alaeddin, that she might console him for his wife; but why doth he still hold aloof from us?' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered Jaafer, 'he spoke sooth who said, "Whoso findeth his beloved, forgetteth his friends."' 'Belike he hath excuse for his absence,' rejoined the Khalif; 'but we will pay him a visit.' (Now some days before this, Alaeddin had said to Jaafer, 'I complained to the Khalif of my grief for the loss of my wife Zubeideh, and he gave me Cout el Culoub.' And Jaafer replied, 'Except he loved thee, he had not given her to thee.' Hast thou gone in to her?' 'No, by Allah! answered Alaeddin. 'I know not her length from her breadth.' 'And why?' asked Jaafer. 'O Vizier,' replied Alaeddin, 'what befits the master befits not the servant.') Then the Khalif and Jaafer disguised themselves and went privily to visit Alaeddin; but he knew them and rising to them, kissed the hands of the Khalif, who looked at him and read trouble in his face. So he said to him, 'O Alaeddin, whence cometh this trouble in which I see thee? Hast thou gone in to Cout el Culoub?' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered he, 'what befits the master befits not the servant. No, I have not gone in to her nor do I know her length from her breadth; so do thou quit me of her.' Quoth the Khalif, 'I would fain see her and question her of her case.' And Alaeddin replied, 'I hear and obey, O Commander of the Faithful.' So the Khalif went in to Cout el Culoub, who rose and kissed the ground before him, and said to her, 'Hath Alaeddin gone in to thee?' 'No, O Commander of the Faithful,' answered she; 'I sent to bid him to me, but he would not come.' So he bade carry her back to the harem and saying to Alaeddin, 'Do not absent thyself from us,' returned to his palace. Accordingly, next morning, Alaeddin mounted and rode to the Divan, where he took his seat as Chief of the Sixty. Presently the Khalif bade his treasurer give the Vizier Jaafer ten thousand dinars and said to the latter, 'I charge thee to go down to the slave-market and buy Alaeddin a slave-girl with this sum.' So Jaafer took Alaeddin and went down with him to the bazaar. As change would have it, that very day, the Amir Khalid, Chief of the Baghdad Police, had gone down to the market to buy a slave-girl for his son Hebezlem Bezazeh. Now this son he had by his wife Khatoun, and he was foul of favour and had reached the age of twenty, without learning to ride, albeit his father was a valiant cavalier and a doughty champion and delighted in battle and adventure. One night, he had a dream of dalliance in sleep and told his mother, who rejoiced and told his father, saying, 'Fain would I find him a wife, for he is now apt for marriage.' Quoth Khalid, 'He is so foul of favour and withal so evil of odour, so sordid and churlish, that no woman would accept of him.' And she answered, 'We will buy him a slave- girl.' So it befell, for the accomplishment of that which God the Most High had decreed, that the Amir and his son went down, on the same day as Jaafer and Alaeddin, to the market, where they saw a beautiful girl, full of grace and symmetry, in the hands of a broker, and the Vizier said to the latter, 'O broker, ask her owner if he will take a thousand dinars for her.' The broker passed by the Amir and his son with the slave and Hebezlem took one look of her, that cost him a thousand sighs; and he fell passionately in love with her and said, 'O my father, buy me yonder slave-girl.' So the Amir called the broker, who brought the girl to him, and asked her her name. 'My name is Jessamine,' replied she; and he said to Hebezlem, 'O my son, an she please thee, bid for her.' Then he asked the broker what had been bidden for her and he replied, 'A thousand dinars.' 'She is mine for a thousand and one,' said Hebezlem, and the broker passed on to Alaeddin, who bid two thousand dinars for her; and as often as Hebezlem bid another dinar, Alaeddin bid a thousand. The Amir's son was vexed at this and said to the broker, 'Who is it that bids against me for the slave-girl?' 'It is the Vizier Jaafer,' answered the broker, 'who is minded to buy her for Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat.' Alaeddin continued to bid for her till he brought her price up to ten thousand dinars, and her owner sold her to him for that sum. So he took the girl and said to her, 'I give thee thy freedom for the love of God the Most High.' Then he married her and carried her to his house. When the broker returned, after having delivered the girl and received his brokerage, Hebezlem called him and said to him, 'Where is the girl?' Quoth he, 'She was bought for ten thousand dinars by Alaeddin, who hath set her free and married her.' At this the young man was greatly cast down and heaving many a sigh, returned home, sick for love of the damsel. He threw himself on his bed and refused food, and passion and love-longing were sore upon him. When his mother saw him in this plight, she said to him, 'God keep thee, O my son! What ails thee?' And he answered, 'Buy me Jessamine, O my mother.' 'When the flower-seller passes,' said she, 'I will buy thee a basketful of jessamine.' Quoth he, 'It is not the jessamine one smells I want, but a slave girl named Jessamine, whom my father would not buy for me.' So she said to her husband, 'Why didst thou not buy him the girl?' And he replied, 'What is fit for the master is not fit for the servant, and I have no power to take her; for no less a man bought her than Alaeddin, Chief of the Sixty.' Then the youth's weakness redoubled upon him, till he could neither sleep nor eat, and his mother bound her head with the fillets of mourning. Presently, as she sat at home, lamenting over her son, there came in to her an old woman, known as the mother of Ahmed Kemakim the arch-thief, a knave who would bore through the stoutest wall and scale the highest and steal the very kohl from the eye. From his earliest years he had been given to these foul practices, till they made him captain of the watch, when he committed a robbery and the Chief of the Police, taking him in the act, carried him to the Khalif, who bade put him to death. But he sought protection of the Vizier, whose intercession the Khalif never rejected; so he pleaded for him with the Commander of the Faithful, who said, 'How canst thou intercede for a wretch who is the pest of the human race?' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' replied Jaafer, 'do thou imprison him; he who built the [first] prison was a sage, seeing that a prison is the sepulchre of the live and a cause for their enemies to exult.' So the Khalif bade lay him in chains and write thereon, 'Appointed to remain until death and not to be loosed but on the bench of the washer of the dead.' And they fettered him and cast him into prison. Now his mother was a frequent visitor to the house of the Master of the Police and used to go in to her son in prison and say to him, 'Did I not warn thee to turn from thy wicked ways?' 'God decreed this to me,' would he answer; 'but, O my mother, when thou visitest the Amir's wife, make her intercede for me with her husband.' So when the old woman came in to the Lady Khatoun, she found her bound with the fillets of mourning and said to her, 'Wherefore dost thou mourn?' 'For my son Hebezlem Bezazeh,' answered she, and the old woman exclaimed, 'God keep thy son! What hath befallen him?' So Khatoun told her the whole story, and she said, 'What wouldst thou say of him who should find means to save thy son?' 'And what wilt thou do?' asked the lady. Quoth the old woman, 'I have a son called Ahmed Kemakim the arch-thief, who lies chained in prison, and on his fetters is written, "Appointed to remain till death." So do thou don thy richest clothes and trinkets and present thyself to thy husband with an open and smiling favour; and when he seeks of thee what men use to seek of women, put him off and say, "By Allah, it is a strange thing! When a man desires aught of his wife, he importunes her till she satisfies him; but if a wife desire aught of her husband, he will not grant it to her." Then he will say, "What dost thou want?" And do thou answer, "First swear to grant my request." If he swear to thee by his head or by Allah, say to him, "Swear to me the oath of divorce," and so not yield to him, except he do this. Then, if he swear to thee the oath of divorce, say to him, "Thou hast in prison a man called Ahmed Kemakim, and he has a poor mother, who is instant with me to urge thee to intercede for him with the Khalif, that he may relent towards him and thou earn a reward from God."' 'I hear and obey,' answered Khatoun. So when her husband came in to her, she did as the old woman had taught her and extorted the required oath from him, before she would yield to his wishes. He lay with her that night and on the morrow, after he had made his ablutions and prayed the morning prayers, he repaired to the prison and said to Ahmed Kemakim, 'Harkye, O arch-thief, dost thou repent of thy ill deeds?' 'I do indeed repent and turn to God,' answered he, 'and say with heart and tongue, "I ask pardon of Allah."' So he carried him, still chained, to the Divan and kissed the earth before the Khalif, who said to him, 'O Amir Khalid, what seekest thou?' Then he brought forward Ahmed Kemakim, shuffling in his fetters, and the Khalif said to him, 'O Kemakim, art thou yet alive?' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered he, 'the wretched are long-lived.' Then said the Khalif to the Amir, 'Why have thou brought him hither?' And he replied, 'O Commander of the Faithful, he hath a poor, desolate mother, who hath none but him, and she hath had recourse to thy slave, imploring him to intercede with thee to set him free and make him Captain of the Watch as before; for he repenteth of his evil courses.' Quoth the Khalif to Ahmed, 'Dost thou repent of thy sins?' 'I do indeed repent to God, O Commander of the Faithful,' answered he; whereupon the Khalif called for the blacksmith and made him strike off his irons on the bench of the washer of the dead. Moreover, he restored him to his former office and charged him to walk in the way of good and righteousness. So he kissed the Khalif's hands and donning the captain's habit, went forth, whilst they made proclamation of his appointment.

He abode awhile in the exercise of his office, till, one day, his mother went in to the wife of the Chief of the Police, who said to her, 'Praised be God who hath delivered thy son from prison and restored him to health and safety! But why dost thou not bid him cast about to get the girl Jessamine for my son Hebezlem Bezazeh?' 'That will I,' answered she and going out from her, repaired to her son. She found him drunken and said to him, 'O my son, none was the cause of thy release from prison but the wife of the Master of Police, and she would have thee go about to kill Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat and get his slave-girl Jessamine for her son Hebezlem Bezazeh.' 'That will be the easiest of things,' answered he, 'and I will set about it this very night.' Now this was the first night of the new month, and it was the Khalif's wont to pass that night with the Princess Zubeideh, for the setting free of a male or female slave or what not else of the like. On this occasion, he used to doff his royal habit and lay it upon a chair in the sitting-chamber, together with his rosary and dagger and royal signet and a golden lantern, adorned with three jewels strung on a wire of gold, by which he set great store, committing all these things to the charge of the eunuchs, whilst he sent into the Lady Zubeideh's apartment. So Ahmed Kemakim waited till midnight, when Canopus shone and all creatures slept, whilst the Creator covered them with the curtain [of the dark]. Then he took his naked sword in one hand and his grappling iron in the other, and repairing to the Khalif's pavilion, cast his grapnel on to the roof. It caught there and he fixed his rope-ladder and climbed up to the roof; then, raising the trap-door, let himself down into the saloon, where he found the eunuchs asleep. So he drugged them with henbane and taking the Khalif's dress and dagger and rosary and handkerchief and signet-ring and lantern, returned whence he came and betook himself to the house of Alaeddin, who had that night celebrated his wedding festivities with Jessamine and had gone in to her and gotten her with child. Ahmed climbed over into his saloon and raising one of the marble slabs of the floor, dug a hole under it and laid the stolen things therein, all save the lantern, which he kept, saying in himself, 'I will set it before me, when I sit at wine, and drink by its light.' Then he plastered down the marble slab, as it was, and returning whence he came, went back to his own house. As soon as it was day, the Khalif went out into the sitting-chamber, and finding the eunuchs drugged with henbane, aroused them. Then he put his hand to the chair and found neither dress nor signet nor rosary nor dagger nor lantern; whereat he was exceeding wroth and donning the habit of anger, which was red, sat down in the Divan. So the Vizier Jaafer came forward and kissing the earth before him, said, 'May God avert the wrath of the Commander of the Faithful!' 'O Vizier,' answered the Khalif, 'I am exceeding wroth!'[FN#106] 'What has happened?' asked Jaafer; so he told him what had happened and when the Chief of the Police appeared, with Ahmed Kemakim at his stirrup, he said to him, 'O Amir Khalid, how goes Baghdad?' And he answered, 'It is safe and quiet.' 'Thou liest!' rejoined the Khalif. 'How so, O Commander of the Faithful?' asked the Amir. So he told him the case and added, 'I charge thee to bring me back all the stolen things.' 'O Commander of the Faithful', replied the Amir, 'the vinegar-worm is of and in the vinegar, and no stranger can get at this place.'[FN#107] But the Khalif said, 'Except thou bring me these things, I will put thee to death.' Quoth Khalid, 'Ere thou slay me, slay Ahmed Kemakim, for none should know the robber and the traitor but the captain of the watch.' Then came forward Ahmed Kemakim and said to the Khalif, 'Accept my intercession for the Master of Police, and I will be responsible to thee for the thief and will follow his track till I find him; but give me two Cadis and two Assessors, for he who did this thing feareth thee not, nor doth he fear the Chief of the Police nor any other.' 'Thou shalt have what thou seekest,' answered the Khalif; 'but let search be made first in my palace and then in those of the Vizier and the Chief of the Sixty.' 'Thou sayst well, O Commander of the Faithful,' rejoined Ahmed; 'most like the thief is one who had been reared in thy household or that of one of thy chief officers.' 'As my head liveth,' said Haroun, 'whosoever shall appear to have done the deed, I will put him to death, be it my very own son!' Then Ahmed Kemakim received a written warrant to enter and search the houses and taking in his hand a [divining] rod made of equal parts of bronze, copper, iron and steel, went forth, attended by the Cadis and Assessors and the Chief of the Police. He first searched the palace of the Khalif, then that of the Vizier Jaafer; after which he went the round of the houses of the chamberlains and officers, till he came to that of Alaeddin. When the latter heard the clamour before his house, he left his wife and opening the door, found the Master of Police without, with a crowd of people. So he said, 'What is the matter, O Amir Khalid?' The Chief of the Police told him the case and Alaeddin said, 'Enter my house and search it.' 'Pardon, O my lord,' replied the Amir; 'thou art a man in authority,[FN#108] and God forbid that such should be guilty of treason!' Quoth Alaeddin, 'Needs must my house be searched. So they entered, and Ahmed Kemakim went straight to the saloon and let the rod fall upon the slab, under which he had buried the stolen goods, with such force that the marble broke in sunder and discovered something that glistened underneath. Then said he, 'In the name of God! what He willeth! Thanks to our coming, we have lit upon a treasure. Let us go down into this hiding-place and see what is therein.' So the Cadis and Assessors looked down into the hole and finding there the stolen goods, drew up a statement of how they had discovered them in Alaeddin's house, to which they set their seals. Then they bade seize upon Alaeddin and took his turban from his head, and making an inventory of all his property and effects, [sealed them up]. Meanwhile, Ahmed Kemakim laid hands on Jessamine, who was with child by Alaeddin, and committed her to his mother, saying, 'Deliver her to the Lady Khatoun.' So the old woman took her and carried her to the wife of the Master of Police. As soon as Hebezlem saw her, health and strength returned to him and he arose forthright, rejoicing greatly, and would have drawn near her: but she pulled a dagger from her girdle and said, 'Keep off from me, or I will kill thee and myself after.' 'O strumpet,' exclaimed his mother, 'let my son have his will of thee!' But Jessamine answered, 'O bitch, by what code is it lawful for a woman to marry two husbands, and how shall the dog take the lion's place?' With this Hebezlem's passion redoubled and he sickened for unfulfilled desire and refusing food, took to his bed again. Then said his mother to her, 'O harlot, how canst thou make me thus to sorrow for my son? Needs must I punish thee, and as for Alaeddin, he will assuredly be hanged.' 'And I will die for love of him,' answered Jessamine. Then Khatoun stripped her of her jewels and silken raiment and clothing her in sackcloth drawers and a shift of hair-cloth, sent her down into the kitchen and made her a scullery-wench, saying, 'Thy punishment shall be to split wood and peel onions and set fire under the cooking pots.' Quoth she, 'I am willing to brook all manner of hardship and servitude, but not thy son's sight.' But God inclined the hearts of the slave-girls to her and they used to do her service in the kitchen.

Meanwhile, they carried Alaeddin to the Divan and brought him, together with the stolen goods, before the Khalif, who said, 'Where did ye find them?' 'Amiddleward Alaeddin's house,' answered they; whereat the Khalif was filled with wrath and took the things, but found not the lantern among them, and said to Alaeddin, 'Where is the lantern?' 'I know nought of it,' answered he; 'it was not I that stole it.' 'O traitor,' said the Khalif, 'how comes it that I brought thee near unto me and thou hast cast me out, and I trusted in thee and thou hast betrayed me?' And he commanded to hang him. So the Chief of the Police took him and went down with him into the city, whilst the crier forewent them, proclaiming aloud and saying, 'This is the reward and the least of the reward of him who doth treason against the orthodox Khalifs!' And the folk flocked to the gallows.

Meanwhile, Ahmed ed Denef, Alaeddin's adopted father, was sitting, making merry with his followers in a garden, when in came one of the water-carriers of the Divan and kissing Ahmed's hand, said to him, 'O Captain, thou sittest at thine ease, with water running at thy feet, and knowest not what has happened.' 'What is to do?' asked Ahmed, and the other answered, 'They have gone down with thine adopted son, Alaeddin, to the gallows.' 'O Hassan Shouman,' said Ahmed, 'What sayst thou of this?' 'Assuredly, Alaeddin is innocent' replied his lieutenant; 'and this is some enemy's practice against him.' Quoth Ahmed, 'What counsellest thou?' And Hassan said, 'God willing, we must rescue him.' Then he went to the prison and said to the gaoler, 'Give us some one deserving of death.' So he gave him one that was likest to Alaeddin and they covered his head and carried him to the place of execution between Ahmed ed Denef and Ali ez Zibec of Cairo. Now they had brought Alaeddin to the gibbet, to hang him, but Ahmed ed Denef came forward and set his foot on that of the hangman, who said, 'Give me room to do my office.' 'O accursed one,' replied Ahmed, 'take this man and hang him in Alaeddin's stead; for he is innocent and we will ransom him with this fellow, even as Abraham ransomed Ishmael[FN#109] with the ram.' So the hangman took the man and hanged him in Alaeddin's room. Then Ahmed and Ali took Alaeddin and carried him to the house of the former, to whom said he, 'O my father, may God abundantly requite thee!' 'O Alaeddin,' said Ahmed, 'what is this thou hast done? God's mercy on him who said, "Whoso trusteth in thee, betray him not, though thou be a traitor." Now the Khalif set thee in high place about him and styled thee "Trusty" and "Faithful;" how then couldst thou deal thus with him and steal his goods?' 'By the Most Great Name, O my father,' replied Alaeddin, 'I had no hand in this, nor do I know who did it.' Quoth Ahmed, 'Of a surety none did this but a manifest enemy and whoso doth aught shall be requited for his deed; but, O Alaeddin, thou canst tarry no longer in Baghdad, for kings, O my son, may not be bought off and longsome is his travail whom they pursue.' 'Whither shall I go, O my father?' asked Alaeddin. 'O my son,' answered Ahmed, 'I will bring thee to Alexandria, for it is a blessed place; its environs are green and its sojourn pleasant.' And Alaeddin said, 'I hear and obey, O my father.' So Ahmed said to Hassan Shouman, 'Be mindful and when the Khalif asks for me, say I am gone on a circuit of the provinces.' Then, taking Alaeddin, he went forth of Baghdad and stayed not till they came to the vineyards and gardens, where they met two Jews of the Khalif's tax-gatherers, riding on mules, and Ahmed said to them, 'Give me the guard-money.'[FN#110] 'Why should we give thee guard-money?' asked they. 'Because,' answered he, 'I am the patrol of this valley.' So they gave him each a hundred dinars, after which he slew them and took their mules, one of which he mounted, whilst Alaeddin bestrode the other. Then they rode on, till they came to the city of Ayas[FN#111] and put up for the night at an inn. Next morning, Alaeddin sold his own mule and committed that of Ahmed to the charge of the doorkeeper of the inn, after which they took ship from the port of Ayas and sailed to Alexandria. Here they landed and proceeded to the Bazaar, where they found a broker crying a shop and a chamber behind it for sale. The last bidding for the premises (which belonged to the Treasury) was nine hundred and fifty dirhems;[FN#112] so Alaeddin bid a thousand and his offer being accepted, took the keys and opened the shop and room, which latter he found furnished with carpets and cushions. Moreover, he found there a storehouse full of sails and masts and ropes and chests and bags of beads and shells and stirrups and axes and maces and knives and scissors and what not else, for the last owner of the shop had been a dealer in second-hand goods. So he took his seat in the shop and Ahmed ed Denef said to him, 'O my son, the shop and room and that which is therein are become thine; so abide thou here and buy and sell and grudge not, neither repine; for God the Most High blesseth trade.' After this he abode with him three days and on the fourth he took leave of him, saying, 'O my son, abide here till I bring thee the Khalif's pardon and learn who hath played thee this trick.' Then he took ship for Ayas, where he took the mule from the inn and returning to Baghdad, foregathered with Hassan Shouman, to whom said he, 'Has the Khalif asked for me?' 'No,' answered Hassan, 'nor hath thou come to his thought.' So he resumed his service about the Khalif's person and set himself to seek news of Alaeddin's case, till one day he heard the Khalif say to the Vizier, 'See, O Jaafer, how Alaeddin dealt with me!' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' replied Jaafer, 'thou hast requited him with hanging, and it was what he deserved.' Quoth Haroun, 'I have a mind to go down and see him hanging.' And the Vizier answered, 'As thou wilt, O Commander of the Faithful.' So the Khalif and Jaafer went down to the place of execution, and the former, raising his eyes, saw the hanged man to be other than Alaeddin and said to the Vizier, 'This is not Alaeddin.' 'How knowest thou that it is not he?' asked the Vizier, and the Khalif answered, 'Alaeddin was short and this fellow is tall.' Quoth Jaafer, 'Hanging stretches a man.' 'But,' rejoined the Khalif, 'Alaeddin was fair and this man's face is black.' 'Knowest thou not, O Commander of the Faithful,' replied Jaafer, 'that death (by hanging) causes blackness?' Then the Khalif bade take down the body and they found the names of he first two Khalifs, Abou Bekr and Omar, written on his heels; whereupon quoth the Khalif, 'O Vizier, Alaeddin was a Sunnite, and this fellow is a Shiyaite.'[FN#113] 'Glory be to God who knowest the hidden things!' answered Jaafer. 'We know not whether this was he or another.' Then the Khalif bade bury the body and Alaeddin became altogether forgotten.

As for Hebezlem Bezazeh, the Amir Khalid's son, he ceased not to languish for passion and desire, till he died and they buried him; whilst Jessamine accomplished the months of her pregnancy and being taken with the pains of labour, gave birth to a male child like the moon. The serving-women said to her, 'What wilt thou name him?' And she answered, 'Were his father alive, he had named him; but now I will name him Aslan.' She gave him suck two years, then weaned him, and he crawled and walked. One day, whilst his mother was busied with the service of the kitchen, the child went out and seeing the stairs, mounted to the guest- chamber,[FN#114] where the Amir Khalid was sitting. When the latter saw him, he took him in his lap and glorified his Lord for that which He had created and fashioned forth; then eyeing him straitly, he saw that he was the likest of all creatures to Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat; and God informed his heart with love of the boy. Presently, his mother Jessamine sought for him and finding him not, mounted to the guest-chamber, where she saw the Amir seated, with the child playing in his lap. The latter, spying his mother, would have thrown himself upon her: but the Amir held him back and said to Jessamine, 'Come hither, O damsel.' So she came to him, and he said to her, 'Whose son is this?' Quoth she, 'He is my son and the darling of my heart.' 'Who is his father?' asked the Amir; and she answered, 'His father was Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat, but now he is become thy son.' Quoth Khalid, 'Alaeddin was a traitor.' 'God deliver him from treason!' replied she. 'God forbid that the Faithful should be a traitor!' Then said he, 'When the boy grows up and says to thee, "Who is my father?" say thou to him, "Thou art the son of the Amir Khalid, Chief of the Police."' And she answered, 'I hear and obey.' Then he circumcised the boy and reared him after the goodliest fashion, bringing him a tutor, who taught him to read and write; so he read (and commented) the Koran twice and learnt it by heart and grew up, calling the Amir father. Moreover, the latter used to go down with him to the tilting-ground and assemble horsemen and teach the lad warlike exercises and the use of arms, so that, by the time he was fourteen years old, he became a valiant and accomplished cavalier and gained the rank of Amir.[FN#115]

It chanced one day that he fell in with Ahmed Kemakim and clapping up an acquaintance with him, accompanied him to the tavern, where Ahmed took out the lantern he had stolen from the Khalif and fell to plying the wine-cup by its light, till he became drunken. Presently Aslan said to him, 'O Captain, give me yonder lantern;' but he replied, 'I cannot give it thee.' 'Why not?' asked Aslan. 'Because,' answered Ahmed, 'lives have been lost for it.' 'Whose life?' asked Aslan; and Ahmed said, 'There came hither a man named Alaeddin Abou est Shamat, who was made Captain of the Sixty and lost his life through this lantern.' Quoth Aslan, 'And how was that?' 'Know,' replied Ahmed Kemakim, 'that thou hadst an elder brother by name Hebezlem Bezazeh, for whom, when he became apt for marriage, thy father would have bought a slave-girl named Jessamine.' And he went on to tell him the whole story of Hebezlem's illness and what befell Alaeddin, undeserved. When Aslan heard this, he said in himself, 'Most like this slave-girl was my mother Jessamine and my father was no other than Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat.' So he went out from him, sorrowful, and met Ahmed ed Denef, who exclaimed at sight of him, 'Glory be to Him to whom none is like!' 'At what dost thou marvel, O my chief?' asked Hassan Shouman. 'At the make of yonder boy Aslan,' replied Ed Denef; 'for he is the likest of all creatures to Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat.' Then he called Aslan and said to him, 'What is thy mother's name?' 'She is called the damsel Jessamine,' answered Aslan; and Ed Denef said, 'Harkye, Aslan, take heart and be of good cheer, for thy father was none other than Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat: but, O my son, go thou in to thy mother and question her of thy father.' 'I hear and obey,' answered he, and going in to his mother, said to her, 'Who is my father?' Quoth she, 'The Amir Khalid is thy father.' 'Not so,' rejoined he, 'my father was none other than Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat.' At this, she wept and said, 'Who told thee this?' 'Ahmed ed Denef, the Captain of the Guard,' answered he; so she told him the whole story, saying, 'O my son, the truth can no longer be hidden: know that Alaeddin was indeed thy father, but it was the Amir Khalid who reared thee and adopted thee as his son. And now, O my son, when thou seest Ahmed ed Denef, so thou say to him, "I conjure thee, by Allah, O my chief, avenge me on the murderer of my father Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat!"' So he went out from her and betaking himself to Ahmed ed Denef, kissed his hand. Quoth Ed Denef, 'What ails thee, O Aslan?' And he answered, 'I know now for certain that I am the son of Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat and I would have thee avenge me of my father's murderer.' 'And who was thy father's murderer?' asked Ed Denef. 'Ahmed Kemakim the arch- thief,' replied Aslan. 'Who told thee this?' said Ed Denef, and Aslan answered, 'I saw in his hand the lantern hung with jewels, that was lost with the rest of the Khalif's gear, and asked him to give it me; but he refused, saying, "Lives have been lost on account of this," and told me how it was he who had broken into the palace and stolen the goods and hidden them in my father's house.' Then said Ed Denef, 'When thou seest the Amir Khalid don his harness of war, beg him to equip thee like himself and take thee with him. Then do thou some feat of prowess before the Khalif and he will say to thee, "Ask a boon of me, O Aslan." And do thou answer, "I ask of thee that thou avenge me of my father's murderer." If he say, "Thy father is alive and is the Amir Khalid, the Chief of the Police," answer thou, "My father was Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat, and the Amir Khalid is only my father by right of fosterage and adoption." Then tell him all that passed between thee and Ahmed Kemakim and say, "O Commander of the Faithful, order him to be searched and I will bring the lantern forth of his bosom."' 'I hear and obey,' answered Aslan and returning to the Amir Khalid, found him making ready to repair to the Divan and said to him, 'I would fain have thee arm and harness me like thyself and carry me to the Divan.' So he equipped him and carried him to the Divan, with Ahmed Kemakim at his stirrup. Then the Khalif sallied forth of Baghdad with his retinue and let pitch tents and pavilions without the city; whereupon the troops divided into two parties and fell to playing at ball and striking it with the mall from one to the other. Now there was among the troops a spy, who had been hired to kill the Khalif; so he took the ball and smiting it with the mall, drove it straight at the Khalif's face; but Aslan interposed and catching it in mid-volley, drove it back at him who smote it, so that it struck him between the shoulders and he fell to the ground. The Khalif exclaimed, 'God bless thee, O Aslan!' and they all dismounted and sat on chairs. Then the Khalif bade bring the smiter of the ball before him and said to him, 'Who moved thee to do this thing and art thou friend or foe?' Quoth he, 'I am a foe and it was my purpose to kill thee.' 'And wherefore?' asked the Khalif. 'Art thou not an (orthodox) Muslim?' 'No,' replied the spy; 'I am a Shiyaite.' So the Khalif bade put him to death and said to Aslan, 'Ask a boon of me.' Quoth he, 'I ask of thee that thou avenge me of my father's murderer.' 'Thy father is alive,' answered the Khalif; 'and there he stands.' 'And who is he?' asked Aslan. The Khalif replied, 'He is the Amir Khalid, Chief of the Police.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' rejoined Aslan, 'he is no father of mine, save by right of fosterage; my father was none other than Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat.' 'Then thy father was a traitor,' said the Khalif. 'God forbid, O Commander of the Faithful,' replied Aslan, 'that the Faithful should be a traitor! But how did he wrong thee?' Quoth the Khalif, 'He stole my royal habit and what was therewith.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' rejoined Aslan, 'God forfend that my father should be a traitor! But, O my lord, didst thou ever recover the lantern that was stolen from thee?' 'No,' answered the Khalif, 'we never got it back.' And Aslan said, 'I saw it in the hands of Ahmed Kemakim and begged it of him; but he refused to give it me, saying, "Lives have been lost on account of this." Then he told me of the sickness of Hebezlem Bezazeh, son of the Amir Khalid, by reason of his passion for the damsel Jessamine, and how he himself was released from prison and that it was he who stole the lamp and robe and so forth. Do thou then, O Commander of the Faithful, avenge me of my father on him who murdered him.' So the Khalif caused Ahmed Kemakim to be brought before him and sending for Ahmed ed Denef, bade him search him; whereupon he put his hand into the thief's bosom and pulled out the lamp. 'Harkye, traitor,' said the Khalif, 'whence hadst thou this lantern?' And Kemakim replied, 'I bought it, O Commander of the Faithful!' 'Where didst thou buy it?' said the Khalif, 'and who could come by its like to sell it to thee?' Then they beat him, till he confessed that he had stolen the lantern and the rest, and the Khalif said, 'O traitor, what moved thee to do this thing and ruin Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat, the Trusty and Well-beloved?' Then he bade lay hands on him and on the Chief of the Police, but the latter said, 'O Commander of the Faithful, indeed I am unjustly entreated; thou badest me hang him, and I had no knowledge of this plot, for the thing was contrived between Ahmed Kemakim and his mother and my wife. I crave thine intercession, O Aslan.' So Aslan interceded for him with the Khalif, who said, 'What hath God done with this lad's mother?' 'She is with me,' answered Khalid, and the Khalif said, 'I command thee to bid thy wife dress her in her own clothes and ornaments and restore her to her former rank; and do thou remove the seals from Alaeddin's house and give his son possession of his estate.' 'I hear and obey,' answered Khalid, and going forth, carried the Khalif's order to his wife, who clad Jessamine in her own apparel; whilst he himself removed the seals from Alaeddin's house and gave Aslan the keys. Then said the Khalif to Aslan, 'Ask a boon of me;' and he replied, 'I beseech thee to unite me with my father.' Whereat the Khalif wept and said, 'Most like it was thy father that was hanged and is dead; but by the life of my forefathers, whoso bringeth me the glad news that he is yet in the bonds of life, I will give him all he seeketh!' Then came forward Ahmed ed Denef and kissing the earth before the Khalif, said, 'Grant me indemnity, O Commander of the Faithful!' 'Thou hast it,' answered the Khalif; and Ed Denef said, 'I give thee the good news that Alaeddin is alive and well.' Quo the Khalif, 'What is this thou sayest?' 'As thy head liveth,' answered Ed Denef, 'I speak sooth; for I ransomed him with another, of those who deserved death, and carried him to Alexandria, where I set him up as a dealer in second-hand goods.' Then said Er Reshid, 'I charge thee fetch him to me;' and Ed Denef replied, 'I hear and obey;' whereupon the Khalif bade give him ten thousand dinars and he set out for Alexandria.

Meanwhile Alaeddin sold all that was in his shop, till he had but a few things let and amongst the rest a bag. So he shook the bag and there fell out a jewel, big enough to fill the palm of the hand, hanging to a chain of gold and having five faces, whereon were names and talismanic characters, as they were ant-tracks. 'God is All-knowing!' quoth he. 'Belike this is a talisman.' So he rubbed each face; but nothing came of it and he said to himself, 'Doubtless it is a piece of [naturally] variegated onyx,' and hung it up in the shop. Presently, a Frank passed along the street and seeing the jewel hanging up, seated himself before the shop and said to Alaeddin, 'O my lord, is yonder jewel for sale?' 'All I have is for sale,' answered Alaeddin; and the Frank said, 'Wilt thou sell it me for fourscore thousand dinars?' 'May God open!'[FN#116] replied Alaeddin. 'Wilt thou sell it for a hundred thousand dinars?' asked the Frank, and he answered, 'I sell it to thee for a hundred thousand dinars; pay me down the money.' Quoth the Frank, 'I cannot carry such a sum about me, for there are thieves and sharpers in Alexandria; but come with me to my ship and I will pay thee the money and give thee to boot a bale of Angora wool, a bale of satin, a bale of velvet and a bale of broadcloth.' So Alaeddin rose and giving the jewel to the Frank, locked up his shop and committed the keys to his neighbour, saying, 'Keep these keys for me, whilst I go with this Frank to his ship and take the price of my jewel. If I be long absent and there come to thee Captain Ahmed ed Denef,—he who set me up in this shop,—give him the keys and tell him where I am.' Then he went with the Frank to his ship, where the latter set him a stool and making him sit down, said [to his men], 'Bring the money.' So [they brought it and] he paid him the price of the jewel and gave him the four bales he had promised him; after which he said to him, 'O my lord, honour me by taking a morsel or a draught of water.' And Alaeddin answered, 'If thou have any water, give me to drink.' So the Frank called for drink, and they brought sherbets, drugged with henbane, of which no sooner had Alaeddin drunk, than he fell over on his back; whereupon they weighed anchor and shoving off, shipped the poles and made sail. The wind blew fair and they sailed till they lost sight of land, when the Frank bade bring Alaeddin up out of the hold and made him smell to the counter-drug, whereupon he opened his eyes and said, 'Where am I?' 'Thou art bound and in my power,' answered the Frank; 'and if thou hadst refused to take a hundred thousand dinars for the jewel, I would have bidden thee more.' 'What art thou?' asked Alaeddin, and the other replied, 'I am a sea- captain and mean to carry thee to my mistress.' As they were talking, a ship hove in sight, with forty Muslim merchants on board; so the Frank captain gave chase and coming up with the vessel, made fast to it with grappling-irons. Then he boarded it with his men and took it and plundered it; after which he sailed on with his prize, till he reached the city of Genoa, where he repaired to the gate of a palace, that gave upon the sea, and there came forth to him a veiled damsel, who said, 'Hast thou brought the jewel and its owner?' 'I have brought them both,' answered he; and she said, 'Then give me the jewel.' So he gave it to her and returning to the port, fired guns to announce his safe return; whereupon the King of the city, being notified of his arrival, came down to receive him and said to him, 'What manner of voyage hast thou had?' 'A right prosperous one,' answered the captain, 'and I have made prize of a ship with one- and-forty Muslim merchants.' Being them ashore,' said the King. So he landed the merchants in irons, and Alaeddin among the rest; and the King and the captain mounted and made the captives walk before them, till they reached the palace, where the King sat down in the audience-chamber and making the prisoners pass before him, one by one, said to the first, 'O Muslim, whence comest thou?' 'From Alexandria,' answered he; whereupon the King said, 'O headsman, put him to death.' So the headsman smote him with the sword and cut off his head: and thus it fared with the second and the third, till forty were dead and there remained but Alaeddin, who drank the cup of his comrades' anguish and said to himself, 'God have mercy on thee, O Alaeddin! Thou art a dead man.' Then said the King to him, 'And thou, what countryman art thou?' 'I am of Alexandria,' answered Alaeddin, and the King said, 'O headsman, strike off his head.' So the headsman raised his arm and was about to strike, when an old woman of venerable aspect presented herself before the King, who rose to do her honour, and said to him, 'O King, did I not bid thee remember, when the captain came back with captives, to keep one or two for the convent, to serve in the church?' 'O my mother, answered the King, 'would thou hadst come a while earlier! But take this one that is left.' So she turned to Alaeddin and said to him, 'Wilt thou serve in the church, or shall I let the King kill thee?' Quoth he, 'I will serve in the church.' So she took him and carried him forth of the palace to the church, where he said to her, 'What service must I do?' And she answered, 'Thou must arise in the morning and take five mules and go with them into the forest and there cut dry firewood and split it and bring it to the convent-kitchen. Then must thou take up the carpets and sweep and wipe the stone and marble pavements and lay the carpets down again, as they were; after which thou must take two bushels and a half of wheat and sift it and grind it and knead it and make it into cracknels for the convent; and thou must take also a bushel of lentils and sift and crush and cook them. Then must thou fetch water in barrels and fill the four fountains; after which thou must take three hundred and threescore and six wooden platters and crumble the cracknels therein and pour of the lentil pottage over each and carry every monk and patriarch his platter.' 'Take me back to the King and let him kill me,' said Alaeddin; 'it were easier to me than this service.' 'If thou do the service that is due from thee,' replied the old woman, 'thou shalt escape death; but, if thou do it not, I will let the King kill thee.' Then she went away, leaving Alaeddin heavy at heart. Now there were in the church ten blind cripples, and one of them said to him, 'Bring me a pot.' So he brought it him and he did his occasion therein and said, 'Throw away the ordure.' He did do, and the blind man said, 'The Messiah's blessing be upon thee, O servant of the church!' Presently, the old woman came in and said to him, 'Why hast thou not done thy service?' 'How many hands have I,' answered he, 'that I should suffice for all this work?' 'Thou fool!' rejoined she.' 'I brought thee not hither but to work. But,' added she, giving him a wand of brass with a cross at the top, 'take this rod and go forth into the highway, and whomsoever thou meetest, were he governor of the ciy, say to him, "I summon thee to the service of the church, in the name of the Messiah." And he will not refuse thee. Then make him sift the wheat and grind it and bolt it and knead it and bake it into cracknels; and if any gainsay thee, beat him and fear none.' 'I hear and obey,' answered he and did as she said, pressing great and small into his service; nor did he leave to do thus for the space of seventeen years, till, one day, the old woman came to him, as he sat in the church, and said to him, 'Go forth of the convent.' 'Whither shall I go?' asked he, and she said, 'Thou canst pass the night in a tavern or with one of thy friends.' Quoth he, 'Why dost thou send me forth of the church?' and she replied, 'The princess Husn Meryem, daughter of Youhenna, King of the city, purposes this night to pay a visit to the church, and it befits not that any abide in her way.' So he rose and made a show of obeying her and of leaving the church; but he said in himself, 'I wonder whether the princess is like our women or fairer than they! Algates, I will not go till I have had a sight of her.' So he hid himself in a closet[FN#117] with a window looking into the church, and as he watched, in came the King's daughter. He cast one glance at her, that cost him a thousand sighs, for she was like the full moon, when it emerges from the clouds; and with her was a damsel, to whom he heard her say, 'O Zubeideh, thy company is grateful to me.' So he looked straitly at the damsel and found her to be none other than his wife, Zubeideh the Lutanist, whom he thought dead. Then the princess said to Zubeideh, 'Play us an air on the lute.' But she answered, 'I will make no music for thee, till thou grant my wish and fulfil thy promise to me.' 'And what did I promise thee?' asked the princess. 'That thou wouldst reunite me with my husband Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat,' said Zubeideh. 'O Zubeideh,' rejoined the princess, 'be of good cheer and play us an air, as a thank-offering for reunion with thy husband.' 'Where is he?' asked Zubeideh, and Meryem replied, 'He is in yonder closet, listening to us.' So Zubeideh played a measure on the lute, that would have made a rock dance; which when Alaeddin heard, his entrails were troubled and he came forth and throwing himself upon his wife, strained her to his bosom. She also knew him and they embraced and fell down in a swoon. Then came the princess and sprinkled rose-water on them, till they revived, when she said to them, 'God hath reunited you.' 'By thy kind offices, O my lady,' replied Alaeddin and turning to his wife, said to her, 'O Zubeideh, thou didst surely die and we buried thee: how then camest thou to life and to this place?' 'O my lord,' answered she, 'I did not die; but a Marid of the Jinn snatched me up and flew with me hither. She whom thou buriedst was a Jinniyeh, who took my shape and feigned herself dead, but presently broke open the tomb and returned to the service of this her mistress, the princess Husn Meryem. As for me, I was in a trance, and when I opened my eyes, I found myself with the princess; so I said to her, "Why hast thou bought me hither?" "O Zubeideh," answered she, "know that I am predestined to marry thy husband Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat: wilt thou then accept of me to fellow-wife, a night for me and a night for thee?" "I hear and obey, O my lady," rejoined I; "but where is my husband?" Quoth she, "Upon his forehead is written what God hath decreed to him; as soon as what is there written is fulfilled to him he must needs come hither, and we will beguile the time of our separation from him with songs and smiting upon instruments of music, till it please God to unite us with him." So I abode with her till God brought us together in this church.' Then the princess turned to him and said, 'O my lord Alaeddin, wilt thou accept of me to wife?' 'O my lady,' replied he, 'I am a Muslim and thou art a Nazarene; so how can I marry thee?' 'God forbid,' rejoined she, 'that I should be an infidel! Nay, I am a Muslim; these eighteen years have I held fast the Faith of Submission and I am pure of any faith other than that of Islam.' Then said he, 'O my lady, I would fain return to my native land.' And she answered, 'Know that I see written on thy forehead things that thou must needs fulfil and thou shalt come to thy desire. Moreover, I give thee the glad tidings, O Alaeddin, that there hath been born to thee a son named Aslan, who is now eighteen years old and sitteth in thy place with the Khalif. Know also that God hath shown forth the truth and done away the false by withdrawing the curtain of secrecy from him who stole the Khalif's goods, that is, Ahmed Kemakim the arch-thief and traitor; and he now lies bound and in prison. It was I who caused the jewel to be put in the bag where thou foundest it and who sent the captain to thee; for thou must know that he is enamoured of me and seeketh my favours, but I refused to yield to his wishes, till he should being me the jewel and its owner. So I gave him a hundred purses[FN#118] and despatched him to thee, in the habit of a merchant; and it was I also who sent the old woman to save thee from being put to death with the other captives.' 'May God requite thee for us with all good!' said he. 'Indeed, thou hast done well.' Then she renewed her profession of the Mohammedan faith at his hands, and when he was assured of the truth of her speech, he said to her, 'O my lady, tell me what are the virtues of the jewel and whence cometh it?' 'It came from an enchanted treasure,' answered she, 'and has five virtues, that will profit us in time of need. The princess my grandmother, my father's mother, was an enchantress and skilled in solving mysteries and winning at hidden treasures, and from one of the latter came the jewel into her hands. When I grew up and reached the age of fourteen, I read the Evangel and other books and found the name of Mohammed (whom God bless and preserve) in four books, the Evangel, the Pentateuch, the Psalms[FN#119] and the Koran; so I believed in Mohammed and became a Muslim, being assured that none is worship-worth save God the Most High and that to the Lord of all creatures no faith is acceptable save that of Submission. When my grandmother fell sick, she gave me the jewel and taught me its virtues. Moreover, before she died, my father said to her, 'Draw me a geomantic figure and see the issue of my affair and what will befall me.' And she foretold him that he should die by the hand of a captive from Alexandria. So he swore to kill every captive from that place and told the captain of this, saying, "Do thou fall on the ships of the Muslims and seize them and whomsoever thou findest of Alexandria, kill him or bring him to me." The captain did his bidding and he slew as many in number as the hairs of his head. Then my grandmother died and I took a geomantic tablet, being minded to now who I should marry, and drawing a figure, found that none should be my husband save one called Alaeddin Abou esh Shamat, the Trusty and Well-beloved. At this I marvelled and waited till the times were accomplished and I foregathered with thee.' So Alaeddin took her to wife and said to her, 'I desire to return to my own country.' 'If it be so,' replied she, 'come with me.' Then she carried him into the palace and hiding him in a closet there, went in to her father, who said to her, 'O my daughter, my heart is exceeding heavy to-day; let us sit down and make merry with wine, thou and I.' So he called for a table of wine, and she sat down with him and plied him with wine, till he lost his wits, when she drugged a cup with henbane, and he drank it off and fell backward. Then she brought Alaeddin out of the closet and said to him, 'Come; thine enemy is laid prostrate, for I made him drunk and drugged him; so do thou with him as thou wilt.' Accordingly Alaeddin went to the King and finding him lying drugged and helpless, bound him fast, hand and foot. Then he gave him the counter-drug and he came to himself and finding his daughter and Alaeddin sitting on his breast, said to her, 'O my daughter, dost thou deal thus with me?' 'If I be indeed thy daughter,' answered she, 'become a Muslim, even as I have done; for the truth was shown to me, and I embraced it, and the false, and I renounced it. I have submitted myself unto God, the Lord of all creatures, and am pure of all faiths contrary to that of Islam in this world and the next. Wherefore, if thou wilt become a Muslim, well and good; if not, thy death were better than thy life.' Alaeddin also exhorted him to embrace the true faith; but he refused and was obstinate: so Alaeddin took a dagger and cut his throat from ear to ear. Then he wrote a scroll, setting forth what had happened and laid it on the dead man's forehead, after which they took what was light of weight and heavy of worth and returned to the church. Here the princess took out the jewel and rubbed the face whereon was figured a couch, whereupon a couch appeared before her and she mounted upon it with Alaeddin and Zubeideh, saying, 'O couch, I conjure thee by the virtue of the names and talismans and characters of art engraven on this jewel, rise up with us!' And it rose with them into the air and flew, till I came to a desert valley, when the princess turned the face on which the couch was figured towards the earth, and it sank with them to the ground. Then she turned up the face whereon was figured a pavilion and tapping it, said, 'Let a pavilion be pitched in this valley.' And immediately there appeared a pavilion, in which they seated themselves. Now this valley was a desert waste, without grass or water; so she turned a third face of the jewel towards the sky and said, 'By the virtue of the names of God, let trees spring up here and a river run beside them!' And immediately trees sprang up and a river ran rippling and splashing beside them. They made their ablutions and prayed and drank of the stream; after which the princess turned up a fourth face of the jewel, on which was figured a table of food, and said, 'By the virtue of the names of God, let the table be spread!' And immediately there appeared before them a table, spread with all manner rich meats, and they ate and drank and made merry.

Meanwhile, the King's son went in to waken his father, but found him slain and seeing the scroll, took it and read. Then he sought his sister and finding her not, betook himself to the old woman in the church, of whom he enquired of her, but she said, 'I have not seen her since yesterday.' So he returned to the troops and cried out, saying, 'To horse, cavaliers!' Then he told them what had happened, and they mounted and rode after the fugitives, till they drew near the pavilion. Presently, Husn Meryem looked up and saw a cloud of dust, which spread till it covered the prospect, then lifted and discovered her brother and his troops, crying aloud and saying, 'Whither will ye fly, and we on your track!' Then said she to Alaeddin, 'Art thou steadfast in battle?' 'Even as the stake in bran,' answered he; 'I know not war nor battle, neither swords nor spears.' So she pulled out the jewel and rubbed the fifth face, that on which were depictured a horse and his rider, and straightway a horseman appear out of the desert and driving at the pursuing host, ceased not to do battle with them and smite them with the sword, till he routed them and put them to flight. Then said the princess to Alaeddin, 'Wilt thou go to Cairo or to Alexandria?' And he answered, 'To Alexandria.' So they mounted the couch and she pronounced over it the conjuration, whereupon it set off with them and brought them to Alexandria in the twinkling of an eye. They alighted without the city and Alaeddin hid the women in a cavern, whilst he went into Alexandria and fetched them veils and outer clothing, wherewith he covered them. Then he carried them to his ship and leaving them in the room behind it, went forth to fetch them the morning meal, when he met Ahmed ed Denef coming from Baghdad. He saw him in the street and received him with open arms, embracing him and welcoming him. Ed Denef gave him the good news of his son Aslan and how he was now come to the age of twenty; and Alaeddin, in his turn, told the captain of the guard all that had befallen him, whereat he marvelled exceedingly. Then he brought him to his lodging, where they passed the night; and next day he sold his shop and laid its price with his other monies. Now Ed Denef had told him that the Khalif sought him; but he said, 'I am bound first for Cairo, to salute my father and mother and the people of my house.' So they all mounted the couch and it carried them to Cairo the Happy, where they alighted in the street called Yellow, where stood Shemseddin's house. Alaeddin knocked at the door, and his mother said, 'Who is at the door, now that we have lost our beloved?' 'It is I, Alaeddin,' replied he; whereupon they came down and embraced him. Then he sent his wives and baggage into the house and entering himself with Ahmed ed Denef, rested there three days, after which he was minded to set out for Baghdad and his father said, 'O my son, abide with me.' But he answered, 'I cannot brook to be parted from my son Aslan.' So he took his father and mother and set out for Baghdad. When they came thither, Ahmed ed Denef went in to the Khalif and gave him the glad tidings of Alaeddin's arrival and told him his story; whereupon the Prince went forth to meet him, accompanied by his son Aslan, and they met and embraced each other. Then the Khalif sent for Ahmed Kemakim and said to Alaeddin, 'Up and avenge thee of thine enemy!' So he drew his sword and smote off Ahmed's head. Then the Khalif held festival for Alaeddin and summoning the Cadis and the witnesses, married him to the princess Husn Meryem; and he went in to her and found her an unpierced pearl. Moreover, the Khalif made Aslan Chief of the Sixty and bestowed upon him and his father sumptuous dresses of honour; and they abode in the enjoyment of all the comforts and pleasures of life, till there came to them the Destroyer of Delights and the Sunderer of Companies.

HATIM ET TAÏ: HIS GENEROSITY AFTER DEATH.

It is told of Hatim et Taï[FN#120], that when he died, they buried him on the top of a mountain and set over his grave two boughs hewn out of two rocks and stone figures of women with dishevelled hair. At the foot of the hill was a stream of running water, and when wayfarers camped there, they heard loud crying in the night, from dark till daybreak; but when they arose in the morning, they found nothing but the girls carved in stone. Now when Dhoulkeraa, King of Himyer, going forth of his tribe, came to the valley, he halted to pass the night there and drawing near the mountain, heard the crying and said, 'What lamenting is that on yonder hill?' They answered him, saying, 'This is the tomb of Hatim et Taï, over which are two troughs of stone and stone figures of girls with dishevelled hair; and all who camp in this place by night hear this crying and lamenting.' So he said jestingly, 'O Hatim et Taï, we are thy guests this night, and we are lank with hunger.' Then sleep overcame him, but presently he awoke in affright and cried out, saying, 'Help, O Arabs! Look at my beast!' So they came to him and finding his she-camel struggling in the death-agony, slaughtered it and roasted its flesh and ate. Then they asked him what had happened and he said, 'When I closed my eyes, I saw in my sleep Hatim et Taï, who came to me with a sword in his hand and said to me, "Thou comest to us and we have nothing by us." Then he smote my she-camel with his sword, and she would have died, though ye had not come to her and cut her throat.' Next morning the prince mounted the beast of one of his companions and taking the latter up behind him, set out and fared on till midday, when they saw a man coming towards them, mounted on a camel and leading another, and said to him, 'Who art thou?' 'I am Adi, son of Hatim et Taï,' answered he. 'Where is Dhoulkeraa, prince of Himyer?' 'This is he,' replied they, and he said to the prince, 'Take this camel in place of thine own, which my father slaughtered for thee.' 'Who told thee of this?' asked Dhoulkeraa, and Adi answered, 'My father appeared to me in a dream last night and said to me, "Harkye, Adi; Dhoulkeraa, King of Himyer, sought hospitality of me and I, having nought to give him, slaughtered him his she-camel, that he might eat: so do thou carry him a she-camel to ride, for I have nothing."' And Dhoulkeraa took her, marvelling at the generosity of Hatim et Taï, alive and dead.

MAAN BEN ZAÏDEH AND THE THREE GIRLS.

It is told of Maan ben Zaïdeh[FN#121] that, being out one day a-hunting, he became athirst and would have drunk, but his men had no water with them. Presently, he met three damsels, bearing three skins of water; so he begged drink of them, and they gave him to drink. Then he sought of his men somewhat to give the damsels; but they had no money; so he gave each girl ten golden-headed arrows from his quiver. Whereupon quoth one of them to her mates, 'Harkye! These fashions pertain to none but Maan ben Zaïdeh; so let each of us recite somewhat of verse in his praise.' Then said the first:

He heads his shafts with gold and shooting at his foes, Dispenses
     thus largesse and bounties far and wide,
Giving the wounded man wherewith to get him cure And
     grave-clothes unto him must in the tombs abide.

And the second:

A warrior, for the great excess of his magnificence, both friends
     and foes enjoy the goods his liberal hands dispense.
His arrowheads are forged of gold, that so his very wars May not
     estop his generous soul from its munificence.

And the third:

With arrows he shoots at his foes, of his generosity, Whose heads
     are fashioned and forged of virgin gold, in steel's room;
That those whom he wounds may spend the price of the gold for
     their cure And those that are slain of his shafts may buy
     them the wede of the tomb.

MAAN BEN ZAÏDEH AND THE BEDOUIN.

It is told also of Maan ben Zaïdeh that he went forth one day to the chase with his company, and they came upon a herd of gazelles. So they separated in pursuit of them and Maan was left alone in chase of one of the gazelles. When he had made prize of it, he alighted and slaughtered it; and as he was thus engaged, he espied a man coming towards him on an ass. So he remounted and riding up to the new-comer, saluted him and asked him whence he came. Quoth he, 'I come from the land of Cuzaäh, where we have had a two years' dearth; but this year it was a season of plenty and I sowed cucumbers. They came up before their time, so I gathered the best of them and set out to carry them to the Amir Maan ben Zaïdeh, because of his well-known generosity and notorious munificence.' 'How much cost thou hope to get of him?' asked Maan, and the Bedouin answered, 'A thousand diners.' 'What if he say, "This is too much"?' quoth Maan. 'Then I will ask five hundred diners,' said the Bedouin. 'And if he say, "Too much"?' said Maan. 'Then three hundred,' replied the other. 'And if he say yet, "Too much"?' 'Then two hundred.' 'And yet, "Too much"?' 'Then one hundred.' 'And yet, "Too much"?' 'Then fifty.' 'And yet, "Too much"?' 'Then thirty.' 'And if he still say, "Too much"?' said Maan ben Zaïdeh. 'Then,' answered the Bedouin, 'I will make my ass set his feet in his sanctuary[FN#122] and return to my people, disappointed and empty-handed.' Maan laughed at him and spurring his horse, rode on till he came up with his suite and returned home, when he said to his chamberlain, 'If there come a man with cucumbers, riding on an ass, admit him.' Presently up came the Bedouin and was admitted to Maan's presence, but knew him not for the man he had met in the desert, by reason of the gravity and majesty of his aspect and the multitude of his servants and attendants, for he was seated on his chair of estate, with his officers about him. So he saluted him and Maan said to him, 'O brother of the Arabs, what brings thee?' 'I hoped in the Amir,' answered the Bedouin, 'and have brought him cucumbers out of season.' 'And how much cost thou expect of us?' asked Maan. 'A thousand diners,' answered the Bedouin. 'Too much,' said Maan. Quoth the Bedouin, 'Five hundred;' but Maan repeated, 'Too much.' 'Then three hundred,' said the Bedouin. 'Too much,' said Maan. 'Two hundred.' 'Too much' 'One hundred.' 'Too much' 'Fifty.' 'Too much.' At last the Bedouin came down to thirty diners; but Maan still replied, 'Too much.' 'By Allah,' cried the Bedouin, 'the man I met in the desert brought me ill luck! But I will not go lower than thirty diners.' The Amir laughed and said nothing; whereupon the Bedouin knew that it was he whom he had met and said, 'O my lord, except thou bring the thirty diners, there is the ass tied ready at the door and here sits Maan.' At this, Maan laughed, till he fell backward, and calling his steward, said to him, 'Give him a thousand diners and five hundred and three hundred and two hundred and one hundred and fifty and thirty and leave the ass where he is.' So the Bedouin, to his amazement, received two thousand and nine score diners, and may God have mercy on them both!

THE CITY OF LEBTAIT.

There was once a city in the land of the Franks, called the City of Lebtait.[FN#123] It was a royal city and in it stood a tower which was always shut. Whenever a King died and another King of the Franks took the Kingship after him, he set a new and strong lock on the tower, till there were four-and-twenty locks upon the gate. After this time, there came to the throne a man who was not of the old royal house, and he had a mind to open the locks, that he might see what was within the tower. The grandees of his kingdom forbade him from this and were instant with him to desist, offering him all that their hands possessed of riches and things of price, if he would but forego his desire; but he would not be baulked and said, 'Needs must I open this tower.' So he did off the locks and entering, found within figures of Arabs on their horses and camels, covered with turbans with hanging ends, girt with swords and bearing long lances in their hands. He found there also a scroll, with these words written therein: 'Whenas this door is opened, a people of the Arabs, after the likeness of the figures here depictured, will conquer this country; wherefore beware, beware of opening it.' Now this city was in Spain, and that very year Tarik ibn Ziyad conquered it, in the Khalifate of Welid ben Abdulmelik[FN#124] of the sons of Umeyyeh, slaying this King after the sorriest fashion and sacking the city and making prisoners of the women and boys therein. Moreover, he found there immense treasures; amongst the rest more than a hundred and seventy crowns of pearls and rubies and other gems, and a saloon, in which horsemen might tilt with spears, full of vessels of gold and silver, such as no description can comprise. Moreover, he found there also the table of food of the prophet of God, Solomon son of David (on whom be peace), which is extant even now in a city of the Greeks; it is told that it was of green emerald, with vessels of gold and platters of chrysolite; likewise, the Psalms written in the [ancient] Greek character, on leaves of gold set with jewels, together with a book setting forth the properties of stones and herbs and minerals, as well as the use of charms and talismans and the canons of the art of alchemy, and another that treated of the art of cutting and setting rubies and other [precious] stones and of the preparation of poisons and antidotes. There found he also a representation of the configuration of the earth and the seas and the different towns and countries and villages of the world and a great hall full of hermetic powder, one drachm of which would turn a thousand drachms of silver into fine gold; likewise a marvellous great round mirror of mixed metals, made for Solomon son of David (on whom be peace), wherein whoso looked might see the very image and presentment of the seven divisions of the world, and a chamber full of carbuncles, such as no words can suffice to set forth, many camel-loads. So he despatched all these things to Welid ben Abdulmelik, and the Arabs spread all over the cities of Spain, which is one of the finest of lands. This is the end of the story of the City of Lebtait.

THE KHALIF HISHAM AND THE ARAB YOUTH.

The Khalif Hisham ben Abdulmelik ben Merwan was hunting one day, when he sighted an antelope and pursued it with his dogs. As he was following the chase, he saw an Arab youth pasturing sheep and said to him, 'Ho, boy, up and stop yonder antelope, for it escapeth me!' The youth raised his head and replied, 'O ignorant of the worth of the worthy,[FN#125] thou lookest on me with disdain and speakest to me with contempt; thy speech is that of a tyrant and thy conduct that of an ass.' 'Out on thee,' cried Hisham. 'Dost thou not know me?' 'Verily,' rejoined the youth, 'thine unmannerliness hath made thee known to me, in that thou spokest to me, without beginning by the salutation."[FN#126] 'Out on thee!' repeated the Khalif. 'I am Hisham ben Abdulmelik.' 'May God not favour thy dwellings,' replied the Arab, 'nor guard thine abiding-place! How many are thy words and how few thy generosities!' Hardly had he spoken, when up came the troops from all sides and surrounded him, saying, 'Peace be on thee, O Commander of the Faithful!' Quoth Hisham, 'Leave this talk and seize me yonder boy.' So they laid hands on him; and when he saw the multitude of chamberlains and viziers and officers of state, he was in nowise concerned and questioned not of them, but let his chin fall on his breast and looked where his feet fell, till they brought him to the Khalif,[FN#127] when he stood before him, with head bowed down, and saluted him not neither spoke. So one of the attendants said to him, 'O dog of the Arabs, what ails thee that thou salutest not the Commander of the Faithful?' The youth turned to him angrily and replied, 'O packsaddle of an ass, the length of the way it was that hindered me from this and the steepness of the steps and sweat.' Then said Hisham (and indeed he was exceeding wroth), 'O boy, thou art come to thy last hour; thy hope is gone from thee and thy life is past.' 'By Allah, O Hisham,' answered the Arab, 'if the time[FN#128] be prolonged and its cutting short be not ordained of destiny, thy words irk me not, be they much or little.' Then said the (chief) chamberlain to him, 'O vilest of the Arabs, what art thou to bandy words with the Commander of the Faithful?' He answered promptly, 'Mayest thou meet with adversity and may woe and mourning never depart from thee! Hast thou not heard the saying of God the Most High? "One day, every soul shall come to give an account of itself."'[FN#129] "At this, Hisham rose, in great wrath, and said, 'O headsman, bring me his head; for indeed he multiplies talk, such as passes conception, and fears not reproach.' So the headsman took him and making him kneel on the carpet of blood, drew his sword and said to the Khalif, 'O Commander of the Faithful, shall I smite off the head of this thy misguided slave, who is on the way to his grave, and be quit of his blood?' 'Yes,' replied Hisham. He repeated his question and the Khalif again replied in the affirmative. Then he asked leave a third time, and the youth, knowing that, if the Khalif assented yet once more, it would be the signal of his death, laughed till his wang-teeth appeared; at which Hisham's wrath redoubled and he said to him, 'O boy, meseems thou art mad; seest thou not that thou art about to depart the world? Why then dost thou laugh in mockery of thyself?' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered the young Arab, 'if my life is to be prolonged, none can hurt me, great or small; but I have bethought me of some verses, which do thou hear, for my death cannot escape thee.' 'Say on and be brief,' replied Hisham; so the Arab repeated the following verses: A hawk once seized a sparrow, so have I heard men say, A sparrow of the desert, that fate to him did throw; And as the hawk was flying to nestward with his prize, The sparrow in his clutches did thus bespeak his foe: "There's nought in me the stomach of such as thou to stay; Indeed, I'm all too paltry to fill thy maw, I trow." The hawk was pleased and flattered with pride and self conceit; He smiled for self-contentment and let the sparrow go. At this Hisham smiled and said, 'By my kinship to the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve), had he spoken thus at first, I had given him all he asked, except the Khalifate!' Then he bade his servants stuff his mouth with jewels and entreat him courteously; so they did as he bade them and the Arab went his way.

IBRAHIM BEN EL MEHDI AND THE BARBER-SURGEON.

When the Khalifate fell to El Mamoun the son of Haroun er Reshid, the latter's brother Ibrahim, son of El Mehdi, refused to acknowledge his nephew and betook himself to Er Rei,[FN#130] where he proclaimed himself Khalif and abode thus a year and eleven months and twelve days. Meanwhile Mamoun remained awaiting his return to allegiance, till, at last, despairing of this, he mounted with his horsemen and footmen and repaired to Er Rei in quest of him. When the news came to Ibrahim, he found nothing for it but to flee to Baghdad and hide there, fearing for his life; and Mamoun set a price of a hundred thousand dinars upon his head.

(Quoth Ibrahim) 'Now when I heard of this price being set upon my head, I feared for myself and knew not what to do: so I disguised myself and went forth of my house at midday, knowing not whither I should go. Presently, I entered a street that had no issue and said in myself, "Verily, we are God's and to Him we return! I have exposed myself to destruction. If I retrace my steps, I shall arouse suspicion." Then I espied, at the upper end of the street, a negro standing at his door; so I went up to him and said to him, "Hast thou a place where I may abide awhile of the day?" "Yes," answered he, and opening the door, admitted me into a decent house, furnished with carpets and mats and cushions of leather. Then he shut the door on me and went away; and I misdoubted me he had heard of the reward offered for me and said in myself, "He has gone to inform against me." But, as I sat pondering my case and boiling like the pot over the fire, my host came back, followed by a porter loaded with meat and bread and new cooking-pots and goblets and a new jar and other needful gear. He took them from the porter and dismissing him, said to me, "I make myself thy ransom! I am a barber-surgeon, and I know it would mislike thee to eat with me, because of the way in which I get my living; so do thou shift for thyself with these things whereon no hand hath fallen." Now I was anhungred; so I cooked me a pot of meat, whose like I mind me not ever to have eaten; and when I had done my desire, he said to me, "O my lord, God make me thy ransom! Art thou for wine? Indeed, it gladdens the soul and does away care." "I have no objection," replied I, being desirous of his company; so he brought me new flagons of glass, that no hand had touched, and a jar of excellent wine, and said to me, "Mix for thyself, to thy liking." So I cleared the wine and mixed myself a most pleasant draught. Then he brought me a new cup and fruits and flowers in new vessels of earthenware; after which he said to me, "Wilt thou give me leave to sit apart and drink of wine of my own by myself, of my joy in thee and for thee?" "Do so." answered I. So we drank, he and I, till the wine began to take effect upon us, when he rose and going to a closet, took out a lute of polished wood and said to me, "O my lord, it is not for the like of me to ask thee to sing, but it behoves thine exceeding generosity to render my respect its due; so, an thou see fit to honour thy slave, thine is the august decision." Quoth I (and indeed I thought not that he knew me), "How knowest thou that I excel in song?" "Glory be to God!" answered he. "Our lord is too well renowned for that![FN#131] Thou art my lord Ibrahim, son of El Mehdi, our Khalif of yesterday, he on whose head Mamoun hath set a price of a hundred thousand dinars: but thou art in safety with me." When I heard him say this, he was magnified in my eyes and his loyalty was certified to me; so I complied with his wish and took the lute and tuned it. Then I bethought me of my severance from my children and my family and sang the following verses:

It may be that He, who restored his folk to Joseph of old And
     raised him to high estate from the prison where in bonds he
     lay,
Will hear our prayer and unite us; for Allah, the Lord of the
     worlds, All-powerful is, and His puissance knows neither let
     nor stay.

When the barber heard this, exceeding delight took possession of him and he was of great good cheer; (for it is said that when Ibrahim's neighbours heard him [but] say, "Ho, boy, saddle the mule!" they were filled with delight). Then, being overborne by mirth, he said to me (continues Ibrahim), "O my lord, wilt thou give me leave to say what is come to my mind, for all I am not of the folk of the craft?" "Do so," answered I; "this is of thy great courtesy and kindness." So he took the lute and sang the following verses:

Unto our loved ones we made our moan of our nights so long and
     drear; And lo, "How short is the night with us!" quoth they
     we hold so dear.
This is because quick-coming sleep closes their happy eyes, But
     slumber comes not to close our lids, that burn with many a
     tear.
When the night approaches, the night so dread and drear to those
     that love, We are oppressed with grief; but they rejoice,
     when the night draws near.
Had they but drunken our bitter cup and suffered of our dole,
     Then were their nights as ours, as long and full of heavy
     cheer.

"Thou hast acquitted thee rarely, O my friend," said I, "and hast done away from me the pangs of sorrow. Let me hear more trifles of thy fashion." So he sang these verses:

So a man's honour be unstained and free of all impair, Lo, every
     garment that he dights on him is fit and fair.
She taunted me, because, forsooth, our numbers were but few; But
     I "The noble," answer made, "are ever few and rare."
It irks us nought that we are few and eke our neighbour great,
     For all the neighbours of most folk are scant and mean
     elsewhere;
For we're a folk, that deem not death an evil nor reproach,
     Albeit Aamir and Seloul so deem, of their despair.
The love of death that is in us brings near our ends to us, But
     theirs, who loathe and rail at it, are long and far to fare.
We, an it like us, give the lie to others of their speech; But,
     when we speak, no man on earth to gainsay us doth dare.

When I heard this, I was filled with delight and marvelled exceedingly. Then I slept and awoke not till past nightfall, when I washed my face, with a mind full of the high worth of this barber-surgeon; after which I aroused him and taking out a purse I had with me, containing a considerable sum of money, threw it to him, saying, "I commend thee to God, for I am about to go forth from thee, and beg thee to spend what is in this purse on thine occasions; and thou shalt have an abounding reward of me, when I am quit of my fear." But he returned it to me, saying, "O my lord, poor wretches like myself are of no value in thine eyes; but how, for mine own dignity's sake, can I take a price for the boon which fortune hath vouchsafed me of thy favour and company? By Allah, if thou repeat thy words and throw the purse to me again, I will kill myself." So I put the purse in my sleeve (and indeed its weight was irksome to me) and would have gone away; but when I came to the door of the house, he said to me, "O my lord, this is a safer hiding-place for thee than another, and thy keep is no burden to me; so do thou abide with me, till God grant thee relief." So I turned back, saying, "On condition that thou spend of the money in this purse." He let me believe that he consented to this, and I abode with him some days in the utmost comfort; but, perceiving that he spent none of the contents of the purse, I revolted at the idea of abiding at his charge and thought shame to be a burden on him; so I disguised myself in women's apparel, donning walking-boots and veil, and left his house.

When I found myself in the street, I was seized with excessive fear, and going to pass the bridge, came to a place sprinkled with water, where a trooper, who had been in my service, saw me and knowing me, cried out, saying, "This is he whom Mamoun seeks!" Then he laid hold of me, but the love of life lent me strength and I gave him a push, which threw him and his horse down in that slippery place, so that he became an example to those who will take warning and the folk hastened to him. Meanwhile, I hurried on over the bridge and entered a street, where I saw the door of a house open and a woman standing in the vestibule. So I said to her, "O my lady, have pity on me and save my life; for I am a man in fear." Quoth she, "Enter and welcome;" and carried me into an upper chamber, where she spread me a bed and brought me food, saying, "Calm thy fear, for not a soul shall know of thee." As she spoke, there came a loud knocking at the door; so she went and opened, and lo, it was my friend whom I had thrown down on the bridge, with his head bound up, the blood running down upon his clothes and without his horse. "O so and so," said she, "what hath befallen thee?" Quoth he, "I made prize of the man [whom the Khalif seeks] and he escaped from me." And told her the whole story. So she brought out tinder and applying it to his head, bound it up with a piece of rag; after which she spread him a bed and he lay sick. Then she came up to me and said, "Methinks thou art the man in question?" "I am," answered I, and she said, "Fear not: no harm shall befall thee," and redoubled in kindness to me.

I abode with her three days, at the end of which time she said to me, "I am in fear for thee, lest yonder man happen upon thee and betray thee to what thou dreadest; so save thyself by flight." I besought her to let me tarry till nightfall, and she said, "There is no harm in that." So, when the night came, I put on my woman's attire and taking leave of her, betook me to the house of a freed woman, who had once been mine. When she saw me, she wept and made a show of affliction and praised God the Most High for my safety. Then she went forth, as if she would go to the market, in the interests of hospitality, and I thought no harm; but, ere long, I espied Ibrahim el Mausili[FN#132] making for the house, with his servants and troopers, led by a woman whom I knew for the mistress of the house. She brought them to my hiding-place and delivered me into their hands, and I saw death face to face. They carried me, in my woman's attire, to Mamoun, who called a general council and let bring me before him. When I entered I saluted him by the title of Khalif, saying, "Peace be on thee, O Commander of the Faithful!" and he replied, "May God neither give thee peace nor bless thee!" "At thy leisure, O Commander of the Faithful!" rejoined I. "It is for him in whose hand is revenge[FN#133] to decree retaliation or forgiveness; but forgiveness is nigher to the fear of God, and God hath set thy forgiveness above all other, even as He hath made my sin to excel all other sin. So, if thou punish, it is of thy right, and if thou pardon, it is of thy bounty." And I repeated the following verses:

Great is my sin, in sooth, 'gainst thee, But thou art greater
     still, perdie.
So take thy due of me, or else Remit it of thy clemency.
If of the noble I've not been Indeed, yet do thou of them be.

At this he raised his head to me and I hastened to add these verses:

Indeed, I've offended full sore, But thou art disposed to
     forgive.
'Twere justice to punish my crime And grace to allow me to live.

Then he bowed his head and repeated the following verses:

Whenas a friend against me doth grievously offend And maketh me
     with anger to choke, yet in the end,
I pardon his offending and take him back again Into my favour,
     fearing to live without a friend.

When I heard this, I scented the odour of mercy, knowing his disposition to clemency. Then he turned to his son El Abbas and his brother Abou Ishac and other his chief officers there present and said to them, "What deem ye of his case!" They all counselled him to slay me, but differed as to the manner of my death. Then said he to Ahmed ibn Ali Khalid,[FN#134] "And what sayst thou, O Ahmed?" "O Commander of the Faithful," answered he, "if thou put him to death, we find thy like who hath slain the like of him; but, if thou pardon him, we find not the like of thee that hath pardoned the like of him." At this Mamoun bowed his head and repeated the following verse:

The people of my tribe, they have my brother slain; But, an I shoot, my shaft reverts to me again.

And also these:

Use not thy brother with despite, Although he mingle wrong with
     right,
And still be kind to him, all be With thanklessness he thee
     requite;
And if he go astray and err One day, revile thou not the wight.
Seest not that loved and loathed at once In every way of life
     unite?
That by the annoy of hoary hairs Embittered is long life's
     delight,
And that the bristling thorns beset The branch with pleasant
     fruits bedight?
Who is it doth good deeds alone And who hath never wrought
     unright?
Prove but the age's sons, thou'lt find The most have fallen from
     the light.

When I heard this, I uncovered my head and cried out, saying, "God is most great! By Allah, the Commander of the Faithful pardons me!" Quoth he, "No harm shall come to thee, O uncle." And I, "O Commander of the Faithful, my offence is too great for me to attempt to extenuate it and thy pardon is too great for me to speak a word of thanks for it." And I chanted the following verses:

Sure, He, who made the virtues all, stored them in Adam's loins
     For His high-priest, the seventh prince of Abbas' royal
     seed!
The hearts of all the folk are filled with reverence for thee,
     And thou, with meek and humble heart, dost keep them all and
     lead.
Error-deluded as I was, against thee I rebelled, Intent on
     covetise alone and base ambitious greed;
Yet hast thou pardon giv'n to one, the like of whom before Was
     never pardoned, though for him no one with thee did plead,
And on a mother's bleeding heart hadst ruth and little ones, Like
     to the desert-grouse's young, didst pity in their need.

Quoth Mamoun, "I say, like our lord Joseph (on whom and on our Prophet be peace and blessing), 'There shall be no reproach on thee this day. God will forgive thee, for He is the Most Merciful of the Merciful ones.'[FN#135] Indeed, I pardon thee, O uncle, and restore thee thy goods and lands, and no harm shall befall thee." So I offered up devout prayers for him and repeated the following verses:

My wealth thou hast given me again and hast not begrudged it to
     me; Yea, and to boot, before this, my life and my blood thou
     didst spare.
So if, thine approval to win, I lavish my blood and my wealth And
     e'en to the shoe off my foot, in thy service, I strip myself
     bare,
'Twere but the restoring to thee of the loans that I owe to thy
     grace Which none might reproach thee nor blame, I trow,
     hadst thou chos'n to forbear.
Ungrateful henceforth if I prove for the favours vouchsafed me by
     thee, Still worthier of blame than thyself of honour and
     reverence I were.

Then Mamoun showed me honour and favour and said to me, "O uncle, Abou Ishac and Abbas counselled me to put thee to death." "And they counselled thee right loyally, O Commander of the Faithful," answered I; "but thou hast done after thine own nature and hast put away what I feared with what I hoped." "O uncle," rejoined he, "thou didst extinguish my rancour with the humbleness of thine excuse, and I pardon thee without making thee drink the bitterness of obligation to intercessors." Then he prostrated himself in prayer a long while, after which he raised his head and said to me, "O uncle, knowest thou why I prostrated myself?" "Haply," answered I, "thou didst this in thanksgiving to God, for that He hath given thee the mastery over thine enemy." "Not so," rejoined he, "but to thank Him for having inspired me to pardon thee and purified my mind towards thee. Now tell me thy story." So I told him all that had befallen me and he sent for the freed-woman, who was in her house, expecting the reward. When she came, he said to her, "What moved thee to deal thus with thy lord?" And she answered, "Lust of money." "Hast thou a child or a husband?" asked the Khalif; and she said, "No." So he bade give her a hundred blows with a whip and imprisoned her for life. Then he sent for the soldier and his wife and the barber-surgeon and asked the former what had moved him to do thus. "Lust of money," answered he; whereupon quoth the Khalif, "It befits that thou be a barber-surgeon,"[FN#136] and committed him to one whom he charged to place him in a barber's shop, where he might learn the craft. But his wife he entreated with honour and lodged in his palace, saying, "This is a woman of sense and apt for matters of moment." Then said he to the barber-surgeon, "Verily, what has come to light of thy worth and generosity calls for extraordinary honour." So he commanded the trooper's house and all that was therein to be given him and bestowed on him a dress of honour and fifteen thousand dinars.'

THE CITY OF IREM.

It is related that Abdallah ben Abou Kilabeh went forth in quest of a camel that had strayed from him; and as he was wandering in the deserts of Yemen and Sebaa, he came upon a great city in whose midst was a vast citadel compassed about with pavilions, that rose high into the air. He made for the place, thinking to find there inhabitants, of whom he might enquire concerning his camel; but, when he reached it, he found it deserted, without a living soul in it. So (quoth Abdallah), 'I alighted and hobbling my she-camel, took courage and entered the city. When I came to the citadel, I found it had two vast gates, never in the world was seen their like for size and loftiness, inlaid with all manner jewels and jacinths, white and red and yellow and green. At this I marvelled greatly and entering the citadel, trembling and dazed with wonder and affright, found it long and wide, as it were a city[FN#137] for bigness; and therein were lofty storied pavilions, builded of gold and silver and inlaid with many- coloured jewels and jacinths and chrysolites and pearls. The leaves of their doors were even as those of the citadel for beauty and their floors strewn with great pearls and balls, as they were hazel-nuts, of musk and ambergris and saffron. When I came within the city and saw no human being therein, I had nigh- well swooned and died for fear. Moreover, I looked down from the summit of the towers and balconies and saw rivers running under them; in the streets were fruit-laden trees and tall palms, and the manner of the building of the city was one brick of gold and one of silver. So I said to myself, "Doubtless this is the Paradise promised for the world to come." Then I took of the jewels of its gravel and the musk of its dust as much as I could bear and returned to my own country, where I told the folk what I had seen.

After awhile, the news reached Muawiyeh ben Abou Sufyan, who was then Khalif in the Hejaz; so he wrote to his lieutenant in Senaa of Yemen to send for the teller of the story and question him of the truth of the case. Accordingly the lieutenant sent for me and questioned me, and I told him what I had seen; whereupon he despatched me to Muawiyeh, to whom I repeated my story; but he would not credit it. So I brought out to him some of the pearls and balls of musk and ambergris and saffron, in which latter there was still some sweet smell; but the pearls were grown yellow and discoloured. The Khalif wondered at this and sending for Kaab el Ahbar,[FN#138], said to him, "O Kaab el Ahbar, I have sent for thee to learn the truth of a certain matter and hope that thou wilt be able to certify me thereanent." "What is it, O Commander of the Faithful?" asked Kaab, and Muawiyeh said, "Wottest thou of a city builded of gold and silver, the pillars whereof are of rubies and chrysolites and its gravel pearls and balls of musk and ambergris and saffron?" "Yes, O Commander of the Faithful," answered Kaab. "It is Irem of the Columns, the like of which was never made in the lands,'[FN#139] and it was Sheddad son of Aad the Great that built it." Quoth the Khalif, "Tell us of its history," and Kaab said, "Aad the Great had two sons, Shedid and Sheddad. When their father died, they ruled in his stead, and there was no king of the kings of the earth but was subject to them. After awhile Shedid died and his brother Sheddad reigned over the earth alone. Now he was fond of reading in old books, and happening upon the description of the world to come and of Paradise, with its pavilions and galleries and trees and fruits and so forth, his soul moved him to build the like thereof in this world, after the fashion aforesaid.[FN#140] Now under his hand were a hundred thousand kings, each ruling over a hundred thousand captains, commanding each a hundred thousand warriors; so he called these all before him and said to them, 'I find in old books and histories a description of Paradise, as it is to be in the next world, and I desire to build its like in this world. Go ye forth therefore to the goodliest and most spacious tract in the world and build me there a city of gold and silver, whose gravel shall be rubies and chrysolites and pearls and the columns of its vaults beryl. Fill it with palaces, whereon ye shall set galleries and balconies, and plant its lanes and thoroughfares with all manner of trees bearing ripe fruits and make rivers to run through it in channels of gold and silver.' 'How can we avail to do this thing,' answered they, 'and whence shall we get the chrysolites and rubies and pearls whereof thou speakest?' Quoth he, 'Know ye not that all the kings of the word are under my hand and that none that is therein dare gainsay my commandment?' 'Yes,' answered they; 'we know that.' 'Get ye then,' rejoined he, 'to the mines of chrysolites and rubies and gold and silver and to the pearl-fisheries and gather together all that is in the world of jewels and metals of price and leave nought; and take also for me such of these things as be in men's hands and let nothing escape you: be diligent and beware of disobedience.'

Then he wrote letters to all the [chief] kings of the world (now the number of kings then reigning [in chief] over the earth was three hundred and threescore kings) and bade them gather together all of these things that were in their subjects' hands and get them to the mines of precious stones and metals and bring forth all that was therein, even from the abysses of the seas. This they accomplished in the space of twenty years, and Sheddad then assembled from all lands and countries builders and men of art and labourers and handicraftsmen, who dispersed over the world and explored all the wastes and deserts thereof, till they came to a vast and fair open plain, clear of hills and mountains, with springs welling and rivers running, and said, 'This is even such a place as the King commanded us to find.' So they busied themselves in building the city even as Sheddad, King of the whole earth in its length and breadth, had commanded them, laying the foundations and leading the rivers therethrough in channels after the prescribed fashion. Moreover, all the Kings of the earth sent thither jewels and precious stones and pearls large and small and cornelian and gold and silver upon camels by land and in great ships over the waters, and there came to the builders' hands of all these things so great a quantity as may neither be told or imagined. They laboured at the work three hundred years; and when they had wrought it to end, they went to King Sheddad and acquainted him therewith. Then said he, 'Depart and make thereto an impregnable citadel, rising high into the air, and round it a thousand pavilions, each builded on a thousand columns of chrysolite and ruby and vaulted with gold, that in each pavilion may dwell a Vizier.' So they returned and did this in other twenty years; after which they again presented themselves before the King and informed him of the accomplishment of his will. Then he commanded his Viziers, who were a thousand in number, and his chief officers and such of his troops and others as he put trust in, to prepare for departure and removal to Many-Columned Irem, at the stirrup of Sheddad son of Aad, king of the world; and he bade also such as he would of his women and of his female slaves and eunuchs make them ready for the journey. They spent twenty years preparing for departure, at the end of which time Sheddad set out with his host, rejoicing in the attainment of his wish, and fared forward till there remained but one day's journey between him and Item. Then God sent down on him and on the stubborn unbelievers with him a thunderblast from the heavens of His power, which destroyed them all with a mighty clamour, and neither he nor any of his company set eyes on the city. Moreover, God blotted out the road that led to the city, and it stands unchanged, in its stead, until the Resurrection Day."

Muawiyeh wondered greatly ad Kaab's story and said to him, "Hath any mortal ever made his way to the city?" "Yes," answered Kaab; "one of the companions of Mohammed (on whom be peace and salvation) reached it, doubtless after the same fashion as this man who sits here." And (quoth Es Shaabi) it is related, on the authority of learned men of Himyer of Yemen, that Sheddad was succeeded in his kingship by his son Sheddad the Less, whom he left his viceregent in Hezremout and Sebaa, when he set out for Irem. When he heard of his father's death on the road, he caused his body to be brought back to Hezremout and let hew him out a sepulchre in a cavern, where he laid the body on a throne of gold and threw over it threescore and ten robes of cloth of gold, embroidered with precious stones; and at his head he set up a tablet of gold, on which were graven the following verses:

Take warning, thou that by long life Art duped and thinkst to
     live alway.
I'm Sheddad son of Aad, a high And mighty monarch in my day;
Lord of the columned citadel, Great was my prowess in the fray.
All the world's peoples feared my might And did my ordinance
     obey;
Yes, and I held the East and West And ruled them with an iron
     sway.
One[FN#141] came to us with God's command And summoned us to the
     right way
"Is there no 'scaping from this thing?" Quoth we and did his word
     gainsay.
Then on us fell a thunderblast From out the heaven far away,
And like the sheaves in reaping-time Midmost a field, o'erthrown
     we lay.
And now beneath the storied plains Of earth we wait the appointed
     Day.

(Quoth Eth Thaalibi also) It chanced that two men once entered this cavern and found at its upper end a stair; so they descended and came to an underground chamber, a hundred cubits long by forth wide and a hundred high. In the midst stood a throne of gold, whereon lay a man of gigantic stature, filling the whole length and breadth of the throne. He was covered with jewelry and raiment gold and silver wrought, and at his head was a tablet of gold, bearing an inscription. So they took the tablet and bore it off, together with as many bars of gold and silver and so forth as they could away with.

ISAAC OF MOSUL'S STORY OF THE LADY KHEDIJEH AND THE KHALIF MAMOUN

(Quoth Isaac of Mosul[FN#142]) 'I went out one night from Mamoun's presence, on my way to my house, and being taken with a need to make water, I turned aside into a by-street and stood up against a wall, fearing lest something might hurt me, if I squatted down. Presently, I espied something hanging down from one of the houses and feeling it, found that it was a great four- handled basket, covered with brocade. "There must be some reason for this," said I to myself and knew not what to think, then drunkenness led me to seat myself in the basket, whereupon the people of the house pulled me up, supposing me to be he whom they expected. When I came to the top of the wall, I found four damsels, who said to me, "Descend and welcome!" Then one of them went before me with a flambeau and brought me down into a mansion, wherein were furnished sitting-chambers, whose like I had never seen, save in the Khalif's palace. So I sat down and after awhile, the curtains were drawn from one side of the room and in came damsels bearing lighted flambeaux and censers full of Sumatran aloes-wood, and amongst them a young lady as she were the rising full moon. I rose and she said, "Welcome to thee for a visitor!" Then she made me sit down again and asked how I came thither. Quoth I, "I was returning home from a friend's house and went astray in the dark; then, being taken with an urgent occasion, I turned aside into this street, where I found a basket let down. The wine which I had drunk led me to seat myself in it and it was drawn up with me into this house." "No harm shall befall thee," rejoined she, "and I hope thou wilt have cause to praise the issue of thine adventure. But what is thy condition?" "I am a merchant in the Baghdad bazaar," replied I, and she, "Canst thou repeat any verses?" "Some small matter," answered I. "Then," said she, "let us hear some of them." But I said, "A visitor is [naturally] bashful; do thou begin." "True," answered she and recited some of the choicest verses of the poets, past and present, so that I knew not whether more to marvel at her beauty and grace or at the charm of her diction. Then said she, "Is thy bashfulness gone?" "Yes, by Allah!" answered I. "Then, if thou wilt," rejoined she, "recite us somewhat." So I repeated to her a number of poems by old writers, and she applauded, saying, "By Allah I did not look to find such culture among the trader folk!"

Then she called for food and fell to taking of it and setting it before me; and the place was full of all manner sweet-scented flowers and rare fruits, such as are found only in kings' houses. Presently, she called for wine and drank a cup, after which she filled another and gave it to me, saying, "Now is the time for converse and story-telling." So I bethought myself and related to her a number of pleasing stories and anecdotes, with which she was delighted and said, "It is wonderful that a merchant should have such store of tales like unto these, for they are fit for kings." Quoth I, "I have a neighbour who uses to consort with kings and bear them company at table; so, when he is at leisure, I visit his house and he often tells me what he has heard." "By my life," exclaimed she, "thou hast a good memory!"

We continued to converse thus, and as often as I was silent, she would begin, till the most part of the night was spent, whilst the burning aloes-wood diffused its fragrance and I was in such case as, if the Khalif had suspected it, would have made him wild with longing for it. Then said she to me, "Verily, thou art one of the most pleasant and accomplished of men and passing well- bred; but there lacks one thing." "What is that?" asked I, and she said, "If but thou knewest how to sing verses to the lute!" I answered, "I was once passionately fond of this art, but finding I had no gift for it, I abandoned it, thou reluctantly. Indeed, I should love to sing somewhat well at this present and fulfil my night's enjoyment." "Meseemeth thou hintest a wish for the lute to be brought?" said she, and I, "It is thine to decide, if thou wilt so far favour me, and to thee be the thanks." So she called for a lute and sang a song, in a manner whose like I never heard, both for sweetness of voice and perfection of style and skill in playing, in short, for general excellence. Then said she, "Knowest thou who made the air and words of this song?" "No," answered I; and she said, "The words are so and so's and the air is Isaac's." "And hath Isaac then (may I be thy ransom!) such a talent?" asked I. "Glory be to Isaac!" replied she. "Indeed he excels in this art." "Glory be to Allah," exclaimed I, "who hath given this man what He hath vouchsafed unto none other!" And she said, "How would it be, if thou heardest this song from himself?" Thus did we till break of day, when there came to her an old woman, as she were her nurse, and said to her, "The time is come." So she rose and said to me, "Keep what hath passed between us to thyself; for meetings of this kind are in confidence." "May I be thy ransom!" answered I. "I needed no enjoinder of this." Then I took leave of her and she sent a damsel to open the door to me; so I went forth and retuned to my own house, where I prayed the morning prayer and slept.

Presently, there came to me a messenger from the Khalif; so I went to him and passed the day in his company. When the night came, I called to mind my yesternight's pleasure, a thing from which none but a fool could be content to abstain, and betook myself to the street, where I found the basket, and seating myself therein, was drawn up to the place in which I had passed the previous night. When the lady saw me, she said, "Indeed, thou art assiduous," And I answered, "Meseems rather that I am neglectful." Then we fell to conversing and passed the night as before in talking and reciting verses and telling rare stories, each in turn, till daybreak, when I returned home. I prayed the morning prayer and slept, and there came to me a messenger from Mamoun. So I went to him and spent the day with him till nightfall, when he said to me, "I conjure thee to sit here, whilst I go on an occasion and come back." As soon as he was gone, my thoughts turned to the lady and calling to mind my late delight, I recked little what might befall me from the Commander of the Faithful. So I sprang up and going out, ran to the street aforesaid, where I sat down in the basket and was drawn up as before. When the lady saw me, she said, "Verily, thou art a sincere friend to us." "Yea, by Allah!" answered I; and she said, "Hath thou made our house thine abiding-place?" "May I be thy ransom!" replied I. "A guest hath a right to three days' entertainment, and if I return after this, ye are free to shed my blood." Then we passed the night as before; and when the time of departure drew near, I bethought me that Mamoun would certainly question me nor be content save with a full explanation: so I said to her, "I see thee to be of those who delight in singing. Now I have a cousin who is handsomer than I and higher of station and more accomplished; and he is the most intimate of all God's creatures with Isaac." "Art thou a spunger?" asked she. "Verily, thou art importunate." Quoth I, "It is for thee to decide;" and she, "If thy cousin be as thou sayst, it would not displease me to make his acquaintance."

Then I left her and returned to my house, but hardly had I reached it, when the Khalif's messengers came down on me and carried me before him by main force. I found him seated on a chair, wroth with me, and he said to me, "O Isaac, art thou a traitor to thine allegiance?" "No, by Allah, O Commander of the Faithful!" answered I. "What hast thou then to say?" asked he. "Tell me the truth." And I replied, "I will well; but in private." So he signed to his attendants, who withdrew to a distance, and I told him the case, adding, "I promised to bring thee to visit her." And he said, "Thou didst well." Then we spent the day in our usual pleasures, but Mamoun's heart was taken with the lady, and hardly was the appointed time come, when we set out. As we went along, I cautioned him, "Look that thou call me not by my name before her; but do thou sing and I will accompany thee." He assented to this, and we fared on till we came to the house, where we found two baskets hanging ready. So we sat down in them and were drawn up to the usual place, where the damsel came forward and saluted us. When Mamoun saw her, he was amazed at her beauty and grace; and she began to entertain him with stories and verses. Presently, she called for wine and we fell to drinking, she paying him especial attention and delighting in him and he repaying her in kind. Then he took the lute and sang an air, after which she said to me, "And is thy cousin also a merchant?" "Yes," answered I, and she said, "Indeed, ye resemble one another nearly." But when Mamoun had drunk three pints, he grew merry with wine and called out saying, "Ho, Isaac!" "At thy service, O Commander of the Faithful," answered I. Quoth he, "Sing me such an air."

As soon as the lady knew that he was the Khalif, she withdrew to another place, and when I had made an end of my song, Mamoun said to me, "See who is the master of this house;" whereupon an old woman hastened to make answer, saying, "It belongs to Hassan ben Sehl."[FN#143] "Fetch him to me," said the Khalif. So she went away and after awhile in came Hassan, to whom said Mamoun, "Hath thou a daughter?" "Yes," answered he; "her name is Khedijeh." "Is she married?" asked the Khalif. "No, by Allah!" replied Hassan. "Then," said Mamoun, "I ask her of thee in marriage." "O Commander of the Faithful," replied Hassan, "she is thy handmaiden and at thy commandment." Quoth Mamoun, "I take her to wife at a present dower of thirty thousand dinars, which thou shalt receive this very morning; and do thou being her to us this next night." And Hassan answered, "I hear and obey."

'Then he went out, and the Khalif said to me, "O Isaac, tell this story to no one." So I kept it secret till Mamoun's death. Surely never was man's life to fulfilled with delights as was mine these four days' time, whenan I companied with Mamoun by day and with Khedijeh by night; and by Allah, never saw I among men the like of Mamoun, neither among women have I ever set eyes on the like of Khedijeh, no, nor on any that came near her in wit and understanding and pleasant speech!'

THE SCAVENGER AND THE NOBLE LADY OF BAGHDAD.

At Mecca, one day, in the season of pilgrimage, whilst the people were making the enjoined circuits about the Holy House and the place of compassing was crowded, a man laid hold of the covering of the Kaabeh and cried out, from the bottom of his heart, saying, 'I beseech Thee, O God, that she may once again be wroth with her husband and that I may lie with her!' A company of the pilgrims heard him and falling on him, loaded him with blows and carried him to the governor of the pilgrims, to whom said they, 'O Amir, we found this man in the Holy Places, saying thus and thus.' The governor commanded to hang him; but he said, 'O Amir, I conjure thee, by the virtue of the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve), hear my story and after do with me as thou wilt.' 'Say on,' quoth the Amir. 'Know then, O Amir,' said the man, 'that I am a scavenger, who works in the sheep-slaughterhouses and carries off the blood and the offal to the rubbish-heaps.[FN#144] One day, as I went along with my ass loaded, I saw the people running away and one of them said to me, "Enter this alley, lest they kill thee." Quoth I, "What ails the folk to run away?" And he answered, "It is the eunuchs in attendance on the wife of one of the notables, who drive the people out of her way and beat them all, without distinction." So I turned aside with the ass and stood, awaiting the dispersal of the crowd. Presently up came a number of eunuchs with staves in their hands, followed by nigh thirty women, and amongst them a lady as she were a willow-wand or a thirsty gazelle, perfect in beauty and elegance and amorous grace. When she came to the mouth of the passage where I stood, she turned right and left and calling one of the eunuchs, whispered in his ear; whereupon he came up to me and laying hold of me, bound me with a rope and haled me along after him, whilst another eunuch took my ass and made off with it. I knew not what was to do and the people followed us, crying out, "This is not allowed of God! What has this poor scavenger done that he should be bound with ropes?" and saying to the eunuchs, "Have pity on him and let him go, so God have pity on you!" And I the while said in myself, "Doubtless the eunuch seized me, because his mistress smelt the offal and it sickened her. Belike she is with child or ailing; but there is no power and no virtue save in God the Most High, the Supreme!" So I walked on behind them, till they stopped at the door of a great house and entering, brought me into a great hall, I know not how I shall describe its goodliness, furnished with magnificent furniture. The women withdrew to the harem, leaving me bound with the eunuch and saying in myself, "Doubtless they will torture me here till I die, and none know of my death." However, after a while, they carried me into an elegant bathroom, adjoining the hall; and as I sat there, in came three damsels, who seated themselves round me and said to me, "Strip off thy rags." So I pulled off my threadbare clothes, and one of them fell a-rubbing my feet, whilst another washed my head and the third scrubbed my body. When they had made an end of washing me, they brought me a parcel of clothes and said to me, "Put these on." "By Allah," answered I, "I know not how!" So they came up to me and dressed me, laughing at me the while; after which they brought casting- bottles, full of rose-water, and sprinkled me therewith. Then I went out with them into another saloon, by Allah, I know not how to set out its goodliness, for the much paintings and furniture therein; and here I found the lady seated on a couch of Indian cane with ivory feet and before her a number of damsels. When she saw me, she rose and called to me; so I went up to her and she made me sit by her side. Then she called for food, and the damsels brought all manner rich meats, such as I never saw in all my life; I do not even know the names of the dishes. So I ate my fill and when the dishes had been taken away and we had washed our hands, she called for fruits and bade me eat of them; after which she bade one of the waiting-women bring the wine-service. So they set on flagons of divers kinds of wine and burned perfumes in all the censers, what while a damsel like the moon rose and served us with wine, to the sound of the smitten strings. We sat and drank, the lady and I, till we were warm with wine, whilst I doubted not but that all this was an illusion of sleep. Presently, she signed to one of the damsels to spread us a bed in such a place, which being done, she took me by the hand and led me thither. So I lay with her till the morning, and as often as I pressed her in my arms, I smelt the delicious fragrance of musk and other perfumes that exhaled from her and could think no otherwise but that I was in Paradise or in the mazes of a dream. When it was day, she asked me where I lodged and I told her, "In such a place;" whereupon she gave me a handkerchief gold and silver wrought, with somewhat tied in it, and bade me depart, saying, "Go to the bath with this." So I rejoiced and said to myself, "If there be but five farthings here, it will buy me the morning meal." Then I left her, as I were leaving Paradise, and returned to my lodging, where I opened the handkerchief and found in it fifty dinars of gold. I buried them in the ground and buying two farthings' worth of bread and meat, sat down at the door and breakfasted; after which I sat pondering my case till the time of afternoon-prayer, when a slave-girl accosted me, saying, "My mistress calls for thee." So I followed her to the house aforesaid and she carried me in to the lady, before whom I kissed the earth, and she bade me sit and called for meat and wine as on the previous day; after which I again lay with her all night. On the morrow, she gave me a second handkerchief, with other fifty dinars therein, and I took it and going home, buried this also.

Thus did I eight days running, going in to her at the hour of afternoon-prayer and leaving her at daybreak; but, on the eighth night, as I lay with her, one of her maids came running in and said to me, "Arise, go up into yonder closet." So I rose and went into the closet, which was over the gate and had a window giving upon the street in front of the house. Presently, I heard a great clamour and tramp of horse, and looking out of the window, saw a young man, as he were the rising moon on the night of her full, come riding up, attended by a number of servants and soldiers. He alighted at the door and entering, found the lady seated on the couch in the saloon. So he kissed the earth before her, then came up to her and kissed her hands; but she would not speak to him. However, he ceased not to soothe her and speak her fair, till he made his peace with her, and they lay together that night. Next morning, the soldiers came for him and he mounted and rode away; whereupon she came in to me and said, "Sawst thou yonder man?" "Yes," answered I; and she said, "He is my husband, and I will tell thee what befell me with him.

"It chanced one day that we were sitting, he and I, in the garden within the house, when he rose from my side and was absent a long while, till I grew tired of waiting and said to myself, 'Most like, he is in the wardrobe.' So I went thither, but not finding him there, went down to the kitchen, where I saw a slave-girl, of whom I enquired for him, and she showed him to me lying with one of the cook-maids. When I saw this, I swore a great oath that I would do adultery with the foulest and filthiest man in Baghdad; and the day the eunuch laid hands on thee, I had been four days going round about the town in quest of one who should answer this description, but found none fouler nor more filthy than thee. So I took thee and there passed between us that which God fore- ordained to us; and now I am quit of my oath. But," added she, "if my husband return yet again to the cook-maid and lie with her, I will restore thee to thy late place in my favours."

When (continued the scavenger) I heard these words from her lips, what while she transfixed my heart with the arrows of her glances, my tears streamed forth, till my eyelids were sore with weeping, and I repeated the saying of the poet:

Vouchsafe me the kiss of thy left hand, I prithee, And know that
     it's worthier far than thy right;
For 'tis but a little while since it was washing Sir reverence
     away from the stead of delight.

Then she gave me other fifty dinars (making in all four hundred dinars I had of her) and bade me depart. So I went out from her and came hither, that I might pray God (blessed and exalted be He!) to make her husband return to the cook-maid, so haply I might be again admitted to her favours.' When the governor of the pilgrims heard the man's story, he set him free and said to the bystanders, 'God on you, pray for him, for indeed he is excusable.'

THE MOCK KHALIF.

It is related that the Khalif Haroun er Reshid, being one night troubled with a persistent restlessness, summoned his Vizier Jaafer the Barmecide and said to him, 'My heart is straitened and I have a mind to divert myself tonight by walking about the streets of Baghdad and looking into the affairs of the folk; but we will disguise ourselves as merchants, that none may know us.' 'I hear and obey,' answered Jaafer. So they rose at once and putting off the rich clothes they wore, donned merchants' habits and sallied forth, the Khalif and Jaafer and Mesrour the headsman. They walked from place to place, till they came to the Tigris and saw an old man sitting in a boat; so they went up to him and saluting him, said, 'O old man, we desire thee of thy favour to carry us a-pleasuring down the river, in this thy boat, and take this dinar to thy hire.' 'Who may go a-pleasuring on the Tigris?' replied the boatman. 'Seeing that the Khalif every night comes down the stream in his barge, and with him one crying aloud, "Ho, all ye people, great and small, gentle and simple, men and boys, whoso is found in a boat on the Tigris [by night], I will strike off his head or hang him to the mast of his boat!" And ye had well-nigh met him; for here comes his barge.' But the Khalif and Jaafer said, 'O old man, take these two dinars, and when thou seest the Khalif's barge approaching, run us under one of the arches, that we may hide there till he have passed. 'Hand over the money,' replied the boatman; 'and on God the Most High be our dependence!' So they gave him the two dinars and embarked in the boat; and he put off and rowed about with them awhile, till they saw the barge coming down the river in mid-stream, with lighted flambeaux and cressets therein. Quoth the boatman, 'Did I not tell you that the Khalif passed every night? O Protector, remove not the veils of Thy protection!' So saying, he ran the boat under an arch and threw a piece of black cloth over the Khalif and his companions, who looked out from under the covering and saw, in the bows of the barge, a man holding a cresset of red gold and clad in a tunic of red satin, with a muslin turban on his head. Over one of his shoulders hung a cloak of yellow brocade, and on the other was a green silk bag full of Sumatran aloes-wood, with which he fed the cresset by way of firewood. In the stern stood another man, clad like the first and bearing a like cresset, and in the barge were two hundred white slaves, standing right and left about a throne of red gold, on which sat a handsome young man, like the moon, clad in a dress of black, embroidered with yellow gold. Before him they saw a man, as he were the Vizier Jaafer, and at his head stood an eunuch, as he were Mesrour, with a drawn sword in his hand, besides a score of boon-companions. When the Khalif saw this, he turned to Jaafer and said to him, 'Belike this is one of my sons, El Amin or El Mamoun.' Then he examined the young man that sat on the throne, and finding him accomplished in beauty and grace and symmetry, said to Jaafer, 'Verily, this young man abates no jot of the state of the Khalifate! See, there stands before him one as he were thyself, O Jaafer; yonder eunuch is as he were Mesrour and those boon-companions as they were my own. By Allah, O Jaafer, my reason is confounded and I am filled with amazement at this thing!' 'And I also, by Allah, O Commander of the Faithful,' replied Jaafer. Then the barge passed on and disappeared from sight; whereupon the boatman pushed out again into the stream, saying, 'Praised be God for safety, since none hath fallen in with us!' 'O old man,' said Er Reshid, 'doth the Khalif come down the river every night?' 'Yes, O my lord,' answered the boatman; 'he hath done so every night this year past.' 'O old man,' rejoined Er Reshid, 'we wish thee of thy favour to await us here to-morrow night, and we will give thee five dinars, for we are strangers, lodging at El Khendek, and we have a mind to divert ourselves.' 'With all my heart,' replied the boatman. Then the Khalif and Jaafer and Mesrour returned to the palace, where they put off their merchants' habits and donning their apparel of state, sat down each in his several room. Then came the amirs and viziers and chamberlains and officers, and the Divan assembled as of wont.

When the night came and all the folk had dispersed and gone each his own way, the Khalif said to his Vizier, 'Come, O Jaafer, let us go and amuse ourselves by looking on the other Khalif.' At this, Jaafer and Mesrour laughed, and the three, donning merchants' habits, went out at the privy gate and made their way through the city, in great glee, till they came to the Tigris, where they found the boatman sitting, waiting for them. They embarked with him in the boat and had not sat long, before up came the mock Khalif's barge, with the cresset-bearers crying aloud as of wont, and in it two hundred white slaves other than those of the previous night. 'O Vizier,' exclaimed the Khalif, 'had I heard tell of this, I had not believed it; but I have seen it with my own eyes.' Then said he to the boatman, 'Take these ten dinars and row us along abreast of them, for they are in the light and we in the shade, and we can see them and divert ourselves by looking on them, but they cannot see us.' So he took the money and pushing off, followed in the shadow of the barge, till they came among the gardens and the barge cast anchor before a postern door, where they saw servants standing with a mule saddled and bridled. Here the mock Khalif landed and mounting the mule, rode away with his boon-companions, attended by his suite and preceded by the cresset-bearers crying aloud. Then Haroun and Jaafer and Mesrour landed also and making their way through the press of servants, walked on before them. Presently, the cresset- bearers espied them and seeing three strangers in merchants' habits, misdoubted of them; so they pointed them out and caused bring them before the mock Khalif, who looked at them and said, 'How come ye here at this hour?' 'O our lord,' answered they, 'we are foreign merchants, who arrived here this day and were out a- walking to-night, when ye came up and these men laid hands on us and brought us before thee.' Quoth the mock Khalif, 'Since you are strangers, no harm shall befall you; but had ye been of Baghdad, I had struck off your heads.' Then he turned to his Vizier and said to him, 'Take these men with thee; for they are our guests this night.' 'I hear and obey, O our lord,' answered he; and they followed him, till they came to a lofty and splendid palace of curious ordinance, such as no king possesses, rising from the dust and laying hold upon the marges of the clouds. Its door was of teak, inlaid with glittering gold, and by it one passed into a saloon, amiddleward which was a basin of water, with an artificial fountain rising from its midst. It was furnished with carpets and cushions and divans of brocade and tables and other gear such as amazed the wit and defied description. There, also, was a curtain drawn, and upon the door were written these two verses:

A palace, upon it be blessing and greeting and grace! Fair
     fortune hath put off her beauty to brighten the place.
Therein are all manner of marvels and rarities found; The penmen
     are puzzled in story its charms to retrace.

The mock Khalif entered with his company and sat down on a throne of gold, set with jewels and covered with a prayer-carpet of yellow silk; whilst the boon-companions took their seats and the sword-bearer stood before him. Then the servants laid the tables and they ate and washed their hands, after which the dishes were removed and the wine-service set on, with cups and flagons in due order. The cup went round till it came to Er Reshid, who refused it, and the mock Khalif said to Jaafer, 'What ails thy friend that he drinks not?' 'O our lord,' replied the Vizier, 'this long while he hath drunk no wine.' Quoth the mock Khalif, 'I have drink other than this, a kind of apple-wine, that will suit him.' So he let bring apple-sherbet and said to Haroun, 'Drink thou of this, as often as it comes to thy turn.' Then they continued to drink and make merry, till the wine rose to their heads and mastered their wits; and Haroun said to Jaafer, 'O Jaafer, by Allah, we have no such vessels as these. Would God I knew what manner of man this is!' Presently, the young man glanced at them and seeing them talking privily, said, 'It is unmannerly to whisper.' 'No rudeness was meant,' answered Jaafer. 'My friend did but say to me, "Verily, I have travelled in most countries and have caroused and companied with the greatest of kings and captains; yet never saw I a goodlier ordinance than this nor passed a more delightful night; save that the people of Baghdad say, 'Drink without music often leaves headache.'"' When the mock Khalif heard this, he smiled merrily and struck a gong[FN#145] with a rod he had in his hand; whereupon a door opened and out came an eunuch, bearing a stool of ivory, inlaid with glittering gold, and followed by a damsel of surpassing beauty and symmetry. He set down the stool and the damsel seated herself on it, as she were the sun shining in the cloudless sky. In her hand she had a lute of Indian make, which she laid in her lap and bending over it as a mother bends over her child, preluded in four-and-twenty modes, amazing all wits. Then she returned to the first mode and sang the following verses to a lively measure:

The tongue of passion in my heart bespeaketh thee of me And
     giveth thee to know that I enamoured am of thee.
The burning of an anguished heart is witness to my pain And
     ulcerated eyes and tears that flow incessantly.
I had no knowledge what Love was, before the love of thee; But
     God's forewritten ordinance o'ertaketh all that be.

When the mock Khalif heard this, he gave a great cry and rent his robe to the skirt, whereupon they let down a curtain over him and brought him a fresh robe, handsomer than the first. He put it on and sat as before, till the cup came round to him, when he struck the gong a second time and behold, a door opened and out came an eunuch with a chair of gold, followed by a damsel handsomer than the first, bearing a lute, such as mortified the heart of the envious. She sat down on the chair and sang to the lute these verses:

Ah, how can I be patient, when longing in my soul Flames high and
     from mine eyelids the tears in torrents roll?
Life hath no sweet, by Allah, wherein I may rejoice. How shall a
     heart be joyous, that's all fulfilled of dole?

No sooner did the youth hear this than he gave a great cry and rent his clothes to the skirt; whereupon they let down the curtain over him and brought him another dress. He put it on and sitting up as before, fell again to cheerful talk, till the cup came round to him, when he smote once more upon the gong and out came an eunuch with a chair, followed by a damsel fairer than she who had foregone her. So she sat down on the chair, with a lute in her hand, and sang thereto the following verses:

Have done with your disdain and leave to make me rue; For, by
     your life, my heart to you was ever true!
Have ruth on one distraught, the bondslave of your love, Sorry
     and sick and full of longings ever new.
Sickness, for passion's stress, hath wasted him to nought, And
     still for your consent to Allah he doth sue.
O ye full moons, whose place of sojourn is my heart, Amongst the
     human race whom can I choose but you?

At this the young man gave a great cry and rent his clothes, whereupon they let fall the curtain over him and brought him other clothes. Then he returned to his former case with his boon- companions and the cup went round as before, till it came to him, when he struck the gong a fourth time and the door opening, out came a boy, bearing a chair and followed by a damsel. He set the chair for her and she sat down upon it and taking the lute, tuned it and sang to it these verses:

When, when will separation and hatred pass away And what is past
     of joyance come back to make me gay?
But yesterday, in gladness, one dwelling held us both; We saw the
     enviers napping, all heedless of their prey.
But fortune played the traitor with us and sundered us, And left
     our dwelling-places even as the desert grey.
Wilt have me, O my censor, be solaced for my loves? Alas, my
     heart the censor, I see, will not obey!
So make an end of chiding and leave me to my love; For of my
     loved one's converse my heart is full alway.
Fair lords, though you've been fickle and broken faith and troth,
     Deem not my heart for absence forgets you night or day.

When the mock Khalif heard the girl's song, he gave a great cry and tearing his clothes as before, fell down in a swoon; whereupon they would have let down the curtain over him, as of wont; but the cords stuck fast and Er Reshid, chancing to look at him, saw on his body the marks of beating with palm-rods and said to Jaafer, 'By Allah, he is a handsome youth, but a foul thief!' 'Whence knowest thou that, O Commander of the Faithful?' asked Jaafer, and the Khalif answered, 'Sawst thou not the marks of whips on his sides?' Then they let fall the curtain over him and brought him a fresh dress, which he put on and sat up as before with his courtiers. Presently, he saw the Khalif and Jaafer whispering together and said to them, 'What is the matter, gentlemen?' 'Nothing, my lord,' replied Jaafer, 'save that my friend here, who (as is not unknown to thee) is of the merchants and hath visited all the great cities and countries of the world and foregathered with kings and men of worth, saith to me, "Verily, that which our lord the Khalif hath done this night is beyond measure extravagant, never saw I any do the like of his fashion in any country; for he hath rent four dresses, each worth a thousand dinars, and this is surely excessive extravagance."' 'O man,' replied the youth, 'the money is my money and the stuff my stuff and this is by way of largesse to my servants and followers; for each suit that is rent belongeth to one of my boon-companions here present and I appoint him, in exchange therefor, [if it so like him,] the sum of five hundred dinars.' 'Well is that thou dost, O our lord!' answered Jaafer and recited the following verses:

The virtues sure have built themselves a dwelling in thy palm;
     Thou hast thy wealth to all mankind made common property.
An if the virtues' doors were shut on us one luckless day, Thy
     hand unto their locks, indeed, were even as a key.

When the young man heard these verses, he ordered Jaafer a thousand dinars and a dress of honour. Then the cup went round among them and the wine was pleasant to them; but, after awhile, the Khalif said to Jaafer, 'Ask him of the marks on his ribs, that we may see what he will say.' 'Softly, O my lord,' replied Jaafer; 'be not hasty, for patience is more becoming.' 'By the life of my head and by the tomb of El Abbas,'[FN#146] rejoined the Khalif, 'except thou ask him, I will assuredly make an end of thee!' With this the young man turned towards Jaafer and said to him, 'What ails thee and thy friend to be whispering together? Tell me what is to do with you.' 'It is nothing,' replied Jaafer; but the mock Khalif rejoined, 'I conjure thee, by Allah, tell me what ails you and hide from me nothing of your case.' 'O my lord,' answered the Vizier, 'my companion here saw on thy sides the marks of beating with whips and rods and marvelled thereat exceedingly, saying, "How came the Khalif to be beaten?" And he would fain know the cause of this.' When the youth heard this, he smiled and said, 'Know that my story is wonderful and my case extraordinary; were it graven with needles on the corners of the eye, it would serve as an admonition to him who can profit by admonition.' And he sighed and repeated the following verses:

Strange is my story and outdoes all marvels that can be. By Love
     itself I swear, my ways are straitened upon me!
An ye would know my case, give ear and hearken to my tale And all
     be dumb, on every side, in this our company.
Take heed unto my speech, for lo! therein a warning is; Ay, and
     my words no leasing are, but naked verity.
I am a man of passion slain, the victim of desire, And she who
     slew me fairer is than all the stars to see.
A bright black eye she hath, whose glance is as an Indian sword,
     And from her eyebrows' bended bows full many a shaft shoots
     she.
My heart forebodes me that 'mongst you the Khalif of the age, Our
     Imam[FN#147] is, of high descent and noble pedigree,
And that the second of you he, that's known as Jaafer, is, His
     vizier and a vizier's son, a lord of high degree.
Yea, and the third of you Mesrour the eunuch is, I ween, The
     swordsman of his vengeance. So, if true my saying be,
I have of this my case attained to all for which I hoped And
     hearts' content from every side is come, indeed, to me.

When they heard this, Jaafer swore to him a dissembling oath that they were not those he named; whereupon he laughed and said, 'Know, O my lords, that I am not the Commander of the Faithful and that I do but style myself thus, to get my will of the people of the city. My real name is Mohammed Ali son of Ali the Jeweller and my father was one of the chief men [of the city]. When he died, he left me great store of gold and silver and pearls and coral and rubies and chrysolites and other jewels, besides houses and lands and baths and gardens and orchards and shops and brickfields and slaves, male and female. One day, as I sat in my shop, surrounded by my slaves and servants, there came up a young lady, riding on a mule and attended by three damsels like moons. She alighted at my shop and seating herself by me, said to me, "Art thou Mohammed the jeweller?" "Yes," answered I, "I am he, at thy service." "Hast thou a necklace of jewels fit for me?" asked she, and I replied, "O my lady, I will show thee what I have; and if any please thee, it will be of thy slave's good luck; if not, of his ill-fortune." I had by me a hundred necklaces and showed them all to her; but none of them pleased her and she said, "I want a better than those I have seen." Now I had a small necklace, that my father had bought for a hundred thousand dinars and the like whereof was not to be found with any of the great kings; so I said to her, "O my lady, I have yet one necklace of fine stones, whose like none possesseth, great or small." "Show it me," said she. So I showed it her and she said, "This is what I sought and what I have wished for all my life. What is its price?" Quoth I, "It cost my father a hundred thousand dinars;" and she said, "I will give thee five thousand dinars to thy profit." "O my lady," answered I, "the necklace and its owner are at thy service and I cannot gainsay thee [in aught]." "Not so," rejoined she; "needs must thou have the profit, and I am still much beholden to thee." Then she rose and mounting the mule in haste, said to me, "O my lord, in God's name, favour us with thy company, to receive the money; for this thy day is a milk-white day[FN#148] with us." So I shut the shop and accompanied her, in all security, till we came to a house, on which were manifest the signs of fortune. Its door was wrought with gold and silver and lapis lazuli, and thereon were written these verses:

Nay mourning never enter thee, I pray, O house, nor fortune e'er
     thy lord bewray!
A goodly sojourn art thou to the guest, When strait on him is
     every place and way.

She dismounted and entered the house, bidding me sit down on the stone bench at the door, till the money-changer should come. So I sat awhile, till presently a damsel came out to me and said, "Q my lord, enter the vestibule; for it is not seemly that thou shouldst sit at the door." Accordingly, I entered the vestibule and sat down on the settle there. As I sat, another damsel came out and said to me, "O my lord, my mistress bids thee enter and sit down at the door of the saloon, to receive thy money." So I entered and sat down, nor had I sat a moment, before a curtain of silk was drawn aside and I saw the lady seated on a throne of gold, with the necklace about her neck, unveiled and showing a face as it were the round of the moon. At this sight, my wit was troubled and my mind confounded, by reason of her exceeding beauty and grace; but, when she saw me, she rose and coming up to me, said, "O light of mine eyes, is every handsome one like thee pitiless to his mistress?" "O my lady," answered I, "beauty, all of it, is in thee and is one of thine attributes." "O jeweller," rejoined she, "know that I love thee and can hardly credit that I have brought thee hither." Then she bent to me and I kissed her, and she kissed me, and drawing me towards her, pressed me to her bosom. She knew by my case that I had a mind to enjoy her; so she said to me, "O my lord, dost thou think to foregather with me unlawfully? By Allah, may he not live who would do the like of this sin and who takes pleasure in foul talk! I am a clean virgin, whom no man hath approached, nor am I unknown in the city. Knowest thou who I am?" "No, by Allah, O my lady!" replied I. Quoth she, "I am the lady Dunya, daughter of Yehya ben Khalid the Barmecide and sister of Jaafer, the Khalif's Vizier." When I heard this, I drew back from her, saying, "O my lady, it is no fault of mine if I have been over-bold with thee; it was thou didst encourage me to aspire to thy love, by giving me access to thee." "No harm shall befall thee," answered she; "and needs must thou attain thy desire in the way that is pleasing to God. I am my own mistress and the Cadi shall act as my guardian, in consenting to the marriage-contract; for it is my will that I be thy wife and thou my husband." Then she sent for the Cadi and the witnesses and busied herself with the necessary preparations. When they came, she said to them, "Mohammed Ali ben Ali the jeweller seeks me in marriage and hath given me the necklace to my dowry; and I accept and consent." So they drew up the contract of marriage between us; after which the servants brought the wine-service and the cups passed round, after the goodliest ordinance: and when the wine mounted to our heads, she ordered a damsel, a lute-player, to sing. So she took the lute and sang thereto the following verses:

He comes and shows me, all in one, fawn, moon and sapling slight:
     Foul fall the heart for thought of him that watches not the
     night!
A fair one, Allah had a mind t' extinguish from his cheek One
     ravishment, and straight, instead, another sprang to light.
Whenas my censors speak of him, I cavil at their word, Feigning
     as if I did mislike the mention of the wight;
Yea, and I hearken, when they speak of other than of him, Though
     for the thought of him, nathelesse, I am consumed outright.
Prophet of beauty, all in him 's a very miracle Of grace, and
     greatest of them all his face's splendid sight.
The sable mole upon his cheek hath taken up its stead, Against
     the troubles of this life to ward his forehead bright.
The censors, of their ignorance, bid me forget; but I From true-
     believer cannot turn an infidel forthright.

We were ravished by the sweet music she made and the beauty of the verses she sang and the other damsels went on to sing, one after another, till ten had done so; when the lady Dunya took the lute and playing a lively measure, sang these verses:

By the softness of thy graceful-gaited shape I swear, For
     estrangement from thy presence the pangs of hell I bear.
Have pity on a heart that burns i' the hell-fire of thy love, O
     full moon in the darkness of the night that shinest fair!
Vouchsafe to me thy favours, and by the wine-cup's light To
     blazon forth thy beauties, henceforth, I'll never spare.
A rose hath ta'en me captive, whose colours varied are, Whose
     charms outvie the myrtle and make its thorns despair.

When she had finished, I took the lute and playing a quaint prelude, sang the following verses:

Glory to Him who gave thee all beauty in earth and skies So I'm
     become of thy bondsmen for ever and thy prize.
Thou that art gifted with glances that make mankind thy slaves,
     Pray we may come off scathless from the sorcery of thine
     eyes.
Two opposites, fire, incarnate in shining splendour of flame, And
     water, thy cheek uniteth, conjoined in wondrous wise.
How dulcet and yet how bitter thou art to my heart, alack! To
     which thou at once and ever art Hell and Paradise!

When she heard this, she rejoiced with an exceeding joy; then, dismissing her women, she brought me to a most goodly place, where they had spread us a bed of various colours. She did off her clothes and I had a lover's privacy of her and found her an unpierced pearl and a filly no man had ridden. So I rejoiced in her and repeated the following verses:

Stay with us, Night, I prithee! I want no morning white; The face
     of my beloved sufficeth me for light.
I gave my love, for chin-band, my palm spread open wide And eke
     for ringdove's collar, my arms about him dight.
This is indeed th' attainment of fortune's topmost height! We
     clip and clip and care not to stir from our delight.

Never in my life knew I a more delightful night than this, and I abode with her a whole month, forsaking shop and home and family, till one day she said to me, "O light of my eyes, O my lord Mohammed, I have a mind to go to the bath to-day; so sit thou on this couch and budge not from thy place, till I return to thee." "I hear and obey," answered I, and she made me swear to this; after which she took her women and went off to the bath. But, by Allah, O my brothers, she had not reached the end of the street, when the door opened and in came an old woman, who said to me, "O my lord Mohammed, the lady Zubeideh bids thee to her, for she hath heard of thine elegance and accomplishments and skill in singing." "By Allah," answered I, "I will not rise from my place, till the lady Dunya come back." "O my lord," rejoined the old woman, "do not anger the lady Zubeideh with thee and make an enemy of her. Come, speak with her and return to thy place." So I rose and followed her into the presence of the princess, who said to me, "O light of the eye, art thou the lady Dunya's beloved?" "At thy service," answered I. Quoth she, "He spoke sooth who reported thee possessed of grace and beauty and good breeding and all good qualities; indeed, thou surpassest report; but now sing to me, that I may hear thee." "I hear and obey," answered I. So she brought me a lute, and I sang the following verses:

The heart of the lover is weary with loving and striving in vain,
     And even as a spoil is his body in the hands of sickness and
     pain.
Who should there be, 'mongst the riders on camels with haltered
     head, Save a lover whose dear-beloved the camel-litters
     contain!
A moon, in your tents that rises, to Allah I commend, One my
     heart loves and tenders, shut in from the sight of her
     swain.
Anon she is kind, anon angry: how goodly her coquetry is! For all
     that is done of a loved one must needs to her lover be fain.

When I had finished, she said to me, "God assain thy body and sweeten thy voice! Verily, thou art perfect in beauty and good breeding and singing. But now rise and return to thy place, ere the lady Dunya come back, lest she find thee not and be wroth with thee." So I kissed the earth before her and the old woman forewent me to the door whence I came. I entered and going up to the couch, found that my wife had come back and was lying asleep there. So I sat down at her feet and rubbed them; whereupon she opened her eyes and seeing me, drew up her feet and gave me a kick that threw me off the couch, saying, "O traitor, thou hast been false to thine oath and hast perjured thyself. Thou sworest to me that thou wouldst not stir from thy place; yet didst thou break thy promise and go to the lady Zubeideh. By Allah, but that I fear scandal, I would pull down the palace over her head!" Then said she to her black slave, "Harkye, Sewab, arise and strike off this lying traitor's head, for we have no further need of him." So the slave came up to me and tearing a strip from his skirt, bound my eyes with it and would have cut off my head; but all her women, great and small, came up to her and said to her, "O our lady, this is not the first who hath erred: indeed, he knew not thy humour and hath done nothing deserving of death." "By Allah," replied she, "I must needs set my mark on him." And she bade beat me; so they beat me on my sides, and the marks ye saw are the scars of that beating. Then she bade them put me out, and they carried me to a distance from the house and cast me down. I rose and dragged myself little by little to my own house, where I sent for a surgeon, who dressed my wounds and comforted me. As soon as I was recovered and my pains and sickness had left me, I went to the bath and thence betaking myself to my shop, sold all that was therein. With the proceeds, I bought four hundred white slaves, such as no king ever got together, and caused two hundred of them ride out with me every day. Then I made me yonder barge, on which I spent five thousand dinars, and styled myself Khalif and appointed each of my servants to the charge and clad him in the habit of some one of the Khalif's officers. Moreover, I let cry abroad, "Whoso goeth a-pleasuring on the Tigris [by night], I will strike off his head without mercy;" and on this wise have I done this whole year past, during which time I have heard no news of the lady neither happened upon any trace of her.' And he wept copiously and repeated the following verses:

By Allah, I will never all my life long forget her, my dear; And
     those only will I tender, who shall bring her to me to draw
     near.
Now glory to her Maker and Creator be given evermore! As the full
     moon in the heavens, in her aspect and her gait she doth
     appear.
She, indeed, hath made me weariful and wakeful, full of sorrow,
     sick for love; Yea, my heart is all confounded at her
     beauty, dazed for trouble and for fear.

When Er Reshid heard the young man's story and knew the passion and transport and love-longing that afflicted him, he was moved to compassion and wonder and said, 'Glory be to God who hath appointed to every thing a cause!' Than they craved the young man's leave to depart; which being granted, they took leave of him, the Khalif purposing to do him justice and entreat him with the utmost munificence, and returned to the palace of the Khalifate, where they changed their clothes for others befitting their station and sat down, whilst Mesrour stood before them. After awhile, the Khalif said to Jaafer, 'O Vizier, bring me the young man with whom we were last night.' 'I hear and obey,' answered Jaafer, and going to the youth, saluted him, saying, 'The Commander of the Faithful calls for thee.' So he returned with him to the palace, in great concern by reason of the summons, and going in to the Khalif, kissed the earth before him. Then said he, 'Peace be on thee, O Commander of the Faithful and Protector of the people of the Faith!' And offered up a prayer for the endurance of his glory and prosperity, for the accomplishment of his desires and the continuance of his bounty and the cessation of evil and punishment, ordering his speech as best he might and ending by repeating the following verses:

Still may thy threshold as a place of adoration[FN#149] Be sought
     and on men's brows its dust bespeak prostration,
That so in every land be made this proclamation, "Thou, thou art
     Abraham and this his very station."[FN#150]

The Khalif smiled in his face and returned his salute, looking on him with the eye of favour. Then he bade him draw near and sit down before him and said to him, 'O Mohammed Ali, I wish thee to tell me what befell thee last night, for it was rare and passing strange.' 'Pardon, O Commander of the Faithful!' replied the youth. 'Give me the handkerchief of immunity, that my trouble may be appeased and my heart set at rest.' Quoth the Khalif, 'Thou art safe from fear and trouble.' So the young man told him his story from first to last, whereby the Khalif knew him to be a lover and severed from his beloved and said to him, 'Wilt thou that I restore her to thee?' 'This were of the bounty of the Commander of the Faithful,' answered the youth and repeated the following verses:

Kiss thou his finger-tips, for no mere fingers they, But keys to
     all the goods by God to men assigned;
And praise his deeds no less, for no mere deeds are they, But
     jewels to adorn the necks of humankind.

Thereupon the Khalif turned to Jaafer and said to him, 'Bring me thy sister the lady Dunya.' 'I hear and obey,' answered he and fetched her forthright. When she stood before the Khalif, he said to her, 'Dost thou know who this is?' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered she, 'how should women have knowledge of men?' The Khalif smiled and said, 'O Dunya, this is thy beloved, Mohammed ben Ali the jeweller. We are acquainted with his case, for we have heard the whole story, from beginning to end, and apprehended its inward and its outward; and it is no more hidden, for all it was kept secret.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' rejoined she, 'this was written in the book of destiny. I crave the forgiveness of the Most High God for that which I have done and beseech thee to pardon me of thy favour.' At this the Khalif laughed and summoning the Cadi and the witnesses, renewed the marriage-contract between Dunya and her husband, whereby there betided them the utmost of felicity and those who envied them were mortified. Moreover, he made Mohammed Ali one of his boon- companions, and they abode in joy and cheer and gladness, till there came to them the Destroyer of Delights and the Sunderer of Companies.

ALI THE PERSIAN'S STORY OF THE KURD SHARPER

The Khalif Haroun er Reshid, being more than commonly restless one night, sent for his Vizier and said to him, 'O Jaafer, I am sore wakeful and heavy at heart to-night, and I desire of thee what may cheer my spirit and ease me of my oppression.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered Jaafer, 'I have a friend, by name Ali the Persian, who hath store of tales and pleasant stories, such as lighten the heart and do away care.' 'Fetch him to me,' said the Khalif. 'I hear and obey,' replied Jaafer and going out from before him, sent for Ali the Persian and said to him, 'The Commander of the Faithful calls for thee.' 'I hear and obey,' answered Ali and followed the Vizier into the presence of the Khalif, who bade him be seated and said to him, 'O Ali, my heart is heavy within me this night and I hear that thou hast great store of tales and anecdotes; so I desire of thee that thou let me hear what will relieve my oppression and gladden my melancholy.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' said he, 'shall I tell thee what I have seen with my eyes or what I have heard with my ears?' 'An thou have seen aught [worth telling],' replied the Khalif, 'let me hear that.' 'Know then, O Commander of the Faithful,' said Ali, 'that some years ago I left this my native city of Baghdad on a journey, having with me a boy who carried a light wallet. Presently, we came to a certain city, where, as I was buying and selling, a rascally thief of a Kurd fell on me and seized my wallet, saying, "This is my bag, and all that is in it is my property." Thereupon, "Ho, Muslims all," cried I, "deliver me from the hand of the vilest of oppressors!" But they all said, "Come, both of you, to the Cadi and submit yourselves to his judgement." I agreed to this and we both presented ourselves before the Cadi, who said, "What brings you hither and what is your case?" Quoth I, "We are men at difference, who appeal to thee and submit ourselves to thy judgement." "Which of you is the complainant?" asked the Cadi. So the Kurd came forward and said, "God preserve our lord the Cadi! Verily, this bag is my bag and all that is in it is my property. It was lost from me and I found it with this man." "When didst thou lose it?" asked the Cadi. "But yesterday," replied the Kurd; "and I passed a sleepless night by reason of its loss." "If it be thy bag," said the Cadi, "tell me what is in it." Quoth the Kurd, "There were in my bag two silver styles and eye-powders and a handkerchief, and I had laid therein two gilt cups and two candlesticks. Moreover it contained two tents and two platters and two hooks and a cushion and two leather rugs and two ewers and a brass tray and two basins and a cooking-pot and two water-jars and a ladle and a sacking-needle and a she-cat and two bitches[FN#151] and a wooden trencher and two sacks and two saddles and a gown and two fur pelisses and a cow and two calves and a she-goat and two sheep and an ewe and two lambs and two green pavilions and a camel and two she-camels and a she-buffalo and two bulls and a lioness and two lions and a she-bear and two foxes and a mattress and two couches and an upper chamber and two saloons and a portico and two ante-rooms and a kitchen with two doors and a company of Kurds who will testify that the bag is mine." Then said the Cadi to me, "And thou, what sayst thou?" So I came forward, O Commander of the Faithful (and indeed the Kurd's speech had bewildered me) and said, "God advance our lord the Cadi! There was nothing in this my wallet, save a little ruined house and another without a door and a dog-kennel and a boys' school and youths playing dice and tents and tent-poles and the cities of Bassora and Baghdad and the palace of Sheddad ben Aad[FN#152] and a smith's forge and a fishing net and cudgels and pickets and girls and boys and a thousand pimps, who will testify that the bag is my bag." When the Kurd heard my words, he wept and wailed and said, "O my lord the Cadi, my bag is known and what is in it is renowned; therein are castles and citadels and cranes and beasts of prey and men playing chess and draughts. Moreover, in this my bag is a brood-mare and two colts and a stallion and two blood-horses and two long lances and a lion and two hares and a city and two villages and a courtezan and two sharking pimps and a catamite and two gallows-birds and a blind man and two dogs and a cripple and two lameters and a priest and two deacons and a patriarch and two monks and a Cadi and two assessors, who will testify that the bag is my bag." Quoth the Cadi to me, "And what sayst thou, O Ali?" So, O Commander of the Faithful, being filled with rage, I came forward and said, "God keep our lord the Cadi! I had in this my wallet a coat of mail and a broadsword and armouries and a thousand fighting rams and a sheep-fold and a thousand barking dogs and gardens and vines and flowers and sweet herbs and figs and apples and pictures and statues and flagons and goblets and fair-faced slave-girls and singing-women and marriage-feasts and tumult and clamour and great tracts of land and brothers of success[FN#153] and a company of daybreak-riders, with swords and spears and bows and arrows, and true friends and dear ones and intimates and comrades and men imprisoned for punishment and cup-companions and a drum and flutes and flags and banners and boys and girls and brides, in all their wedding bravery, and singing-girls and five Abyssinian women and three Hindi and four women of Medina and a score of Greek girls and half a hundred Turkish and threescore and ten Persian girls and fourscore Kurd and fourscore and ten Georgian women and Tigris and Euphrates and a fowling net and a flint and steel and Many- Columned Irem[FN#154] and a thousand rogues and pimps and horse- courses and stables and mosques and baths and a builder and a carpenter and a plank and a nail and a black slave, with a pair of recorders, and a captain and a caravan-leader and towns and cities and a hundred thousand dinars and Cufa and Ambar[FN#155] and twenty chests full of stuffs and twenty store-houses for victual and Gaza and Askalon and from Damietta to Essouan and the palace of Kisra Anoushirwan[FN#156] and the kingdom of Solomon and from Wadi Numan[FN#157] to the land of Khorassan and Balkh and Ispahan and from India to the Soudan. Therein also (may God prolong the life of our lord the Cadi!) are doublets and cloths and a thousand sharp razors to shave the Cadi's chin, except he fear my resentment and adjudge the bag to be mine."

When the Cadi heard what I and the Kurd avouched, he was confounded and said, "I see ye are none other than two pestilent atheistical fellows, who make sport of Cadis and magistrates and stand not in fear of reproach. Never did any tell or hear tell of aught more extraordinary than that which ye pretend. By Allah, from China to Shejreh umm Ghailan[FN#158] nor from Fars to the Soudan, nor from Wadi Numan to Khorassan, ever was heard or credited the like of what ye avouch! Is this bag a bottomless sea or the Day of Resurrection, that shall gather together the just and unjust?" Then he bade open the bag; so I opened it and behold, there was in it bread and a lemon and cheese and olives. So I threw it down before the Kurd and went away.'

When the Khalif heard Ali's story, he laughed till he fell backward and made him a handsome present.

End of Vol. III.

Notes to Volume 3

[FN#1] It need hardly be remarked that Eastern stirrups are made so to do duty as spurs.

[FN#2] i.e. The Seven Sleepers.

[FN#3] i.e. The birds of prey.

[FN#4] "O thou of the little stronghold." A sobriquet popularly bestowed on the fox, even as we call him "Reynard."

[FN#5] These verses are full of plays upon words, which it is impossible to render in a translation.

[FN#6] i.e. blood, like wine in colour.

[FN#7] The face.

[FN#8] The teeth.

[FN#9] The wine-cup.

[FN#10] Alluding to the Eastern practice of dying the hands with henna in concentric bands.

[FN#11] The lips, likened to the plum of the jujube-tree.

[FN#12] The teeth.

[FN#13] A well-known metaphor for the brilliant whiteness of the face shining through the black hair.

[FN#14] The lips.

[FN#15] The teeth.

[FN#16] Mejnoun, the well-known lover of Eastern romance.

[FN#17] These verses apparently relate to Aboulhusn, but it is possible that they may be meant to refer to Shemsennehar, as the masculine is constantly used for the feminine in Oriental love- poetry.

[FN#18] As that of a martyr. See Vol. II. p. 25, note 2. {Vol. 2,
FN#15}

[FN#19] Two fallen angels appointed to tempt men by teaching them the art of magic.

[FN#20] An idol or idols of the Arabs before Mohammed.

[FN#21] The browlocks, from their shape, are commonly likened by
Eastern poets to scorpions.

[FN#22] Three stars so called in the Great Bear.

[FN#23] or recite.

[FN#24] There are three orders of Jinn: the upper or inhabitants of the air, the lower or inhabitants of the earth and the divers or inhabitants of the waters.

[FN#25] Lit. lean and fat.

[FN#26] Syn. eye (nazir).

[FN#27] Syn. eyebrow (hajib).

[FN#28] A play upon words turning upon the literal meaning ("auspicious full moons") of the two names of women Budour and Suad.

[FN#29] Ring-mail.

[FN#30] i.e. Orvietan or Venice treacle, the well-known universal remedy of the middle ages, alluded to by Chaucer in the words, "And Christ that is unto all ills triacle."

[FN#31] Names of women.

[FN#32] Women's name.

[FN#33] Women's name.

[FN#34] i.e. a woman.

[FN#35] Women's names.

[FN#36] Wine.

[FN#37] i.e. by way of ornament.

[FN#38] The well-known semi-legendary sage and fabulist.

[FN#39] Playing upon his own name, Kemerezzeman, which means,
"Moon of the time or of fortune." Budour means "Full moons."

[FN#40] Siwaka, a toothstick, (acc.) means also "other than thee."

[FN#41] Araka, a capparis-tree, (acc.) means also, "I see thee." Toothsticks are made of the wood of this tree.

[FN#42] A treasury of money is a thousand purses or about £5,000.

[FN#43] This expression is of course metaphorical. Cf. Solomon's
Song passim.

[FN#44] i.e. gum tragacanth.

[FN#45] See post p. 317. {see Vol. 3. Maan Ben Zaideh and the
Three Girls, FN#121.}

[FN#46] The mansuetude of the Khalif Muawiyeh, the founder of the Ommiade dynasty, is a proverb among the Arabs, though hardly to be reconciled with the accredited records of his life and actions.

[FN#47] Alluding, for the sake of metaphor, to the months of purification which, according to the Muslim ceremonial law, must be accomplished by a divorced woman, before she can marry again.

[FN#48] A divorce three times pronounced cannot be revoked.

[FN#49] Fabulous peoples mentioned in the Koran.

[FN#50] Said to be so called, because they attract sparrows (asafir), but it seems to me more probable that the name denotes the colour of the fruit and is derived from usfur, safflower.

[FN#51] Koran, xxxiii. 38.

[FN#52] Met. anus.

[FN#53] Met. cunnus.

[FN#54] Kibleh, the point of the compass to which one turns in prayer. Mecca is the Kibleh of the Muslims, even as Jerusalem that of the Jews and Christians. The meaning of the text is obvious.

[FN#55] i.e. of God.—Koran, li. 9.

[FN#56] The word (futouh) translated "openings" may also be rendered "victories" or "benefits."

[FN#57] Cf. Aristophanes, Lysistrata and Ecclesiazusæ passim.

[FN#58] An audacious parody of the Koran, applied ironically,
"And the pious work God shall raise up."—Koran, xxxv. 11.

[FN#59] Lit. The chapter of clearing (oneself from belief in any but God), or Unity, Koran, cxii. It ends with the words, "There is none like unto Him."

[FN#60] i.e. but for the soul that animated them.

[FN#61] The word "nights" (more commonly "days," sometimes also "days and nights," as in the verses immediately following) is constantly used in the sense of "fortune" or "fate" by the poets of the East.

[FN#62] Abdallah ibn ez Zubeir revolted (A.D. 680) against Yezid (second Khalif of the Ommiade dynasty) and was proclaimed Khalif at Mecca, where he maintained himself till A.D. 692, when he was killed in the siege of that town by the famous Hejjaj, general of Abdulmelik, the fifth Ommiade Khalif.

[FN#63] The allusion here appears to be to the burning of part of Mecca, including the Temple and Kaabeh, during the (unsuccessful) siege by Hussein, A.D. 683.

[FN#64] Three Muslim sectaries (Kharejites), considering the Khalif Ali (Mohammed's son-in-law), Muawiyeh (founder of the Ommiade dynasty) and Amr (or Amrou), the conqueror of Egypt, as the chief authors of the intestine discords which then (A.D. 661 ) ravaged Islam, conspired to assassinate them; but only succeeded in killing Ali, Muawiyeh escaping with a wound and the fanatic charged with the murder of Amr slaying Kharijeh, the chief of the police at Cairo, by mistake, in his stead. The above verses are part of a famous but very obscure elegy on the downfall of one of the Muslim dynasties in Spain, composed in the twelfth century by Ibn Abdoun el Andalousi, one of the most celebrated of the Spanish Arabic poets.

[FN#65] i.e. fortune. The word dunya (world) is constantly used in poetry to signify "fortune" or "the fortune of this world."

[FN#66] This line is a characteristic example of the antithetical conceits so common in Oriental poetry. The meaning is, "My grief makes all I behold seem black to me, whilst my tears have washed out all the colour from my eyes."

[FN#67] i.e. the tomb.

[FN#68] The wood of which makes a peculiarly fierce and lasting fire.

[FN#69] Koran iv. 38.

[FN#70] Most happy.

[FN#71] Wretched.

[FN#72] Most happy.

[FN#73] The gift of God. The h in Nimeh becomes t before a vowel.

[FN#74] i.e. happiness.

[FN#75] Num is synonymous with Saad. The purpose of the change of name was to make the little one's name correspond with that of Nimeh, which is derived from the same root.

[FN#76] i.e. to any one, as we should say, "to Tom, Dick or
Harry."

[FN#77] i.e. to any one, as we should say, "to Tom, Dick or
Harry."

[FN#78] El Hejjaj ben Yousuf eth Thekefi, a famous statesman and soldier of the seventh and eighth centuries. He was governor of Chaldæa under the fifth and sixth Ommiade Khalifs and was renowned for his cruelty; but appears nevertheless to have been a prudent and capable administrator, who probably used no more rigour than was necessary to restrain the proverbially turbulent populations of Bassora and Cufa. Most of the anecdotes of his brutality and tyranny, some of which will be found in this collection, are, in all probability, apocryphal.

[FN#79] Wool is the distinctive wear of Oriental devotees.

[FN#80] Koran xxv. 70.

[FN#81] Of the Koran.

[FN#82] This verse contains a series of jeux-de-mots, founded upon the collocation of the three proper names, Num, Suada and Juml, with the third person feminine singular, preterite-present, fourth conjugation, of their respective verb-roots, i.e. idka anamet Num, if Num vouchsafe, etc., etc.

[FN#83] Nimeh.

[FN#84] "And he (Jacob) turned from them, saying, 'Woe is me for Joseph!' And his eyes grew white for grief … (Quoth Joseph to his brethren) 'Take this my shirt and throw it over my father's face and he will recover his sight' … So, when the messenger of glad tidings came (to Jacob), he threw it (the shirt) over his face and he was restored to sight."—Koran xii. 84, 93, 96.

[FN#85] Hemzeh and Abbas were uncles of Mohammed. The Akil here alluded to is apparently a son of the Khalif Ali, who deserted his father and joined the usurper Muawiyeh, the founder of the Ommiade dynasty.

[FN#86] One of the numerous quack aphrodisiacs current in the middle ages, as with us cock's cullions and other grotesque prescriptions.

[FN#87] To conjure the evil eye.

[FN#88] i.e. him of the moles.

[FN#89] Alluding to the redness of his cheeks, as if they had been flushed with wine. The passage may be construed, "As he were a white slave, with cheeks reddened by wine." The Turkish and other white slaves were celebrated for their beauty.

[FN#90] As a protection against the evil eye. We may perhaps, however, read, "Ask pardon of God!", i.e. for your unjust reproach.

[FN#91] See note, post, p. 299. {see Vol. 3, FN#114}

[FN#92] i.e. of the caravan.

[FN#93] A famous Muslim saint of the twelfth century and founder of the four great orders of dervishes. He is buried at Baghdad.

[FN#94] Koran xiii. 14.

[FN#95] Another well-known saint.

[FN#96] i.e. He engaged to do somewhat, undertaking upon oath in case of default to divorce his wife by pronouncing the triple formula of divorcement, and she therefore became divorced, by operation of law, on his failure to keep his engagement.

[FN#97] The 36th chapter of the Koran.

[FN#98] or "herself."

[FN#99] or "myself."

[FN#100] This passage is full of double-entendres, the meaning of most of which is obvious, but others are so obscure and farfetched as to defy explanation.

[FN#101] The raven is the symbol of separation.

[FN#102] One of the names of God (Breslau. The two other editions have it, "O David!"). It is the custom of the Arabs, as will appear in others of these tales, to represent inarticulate music (such as that of birds and instruments) as celebrating the praises of God.

[FN#103] lit. a fan.

[FN#104] One of the most celebrated, as well as the most witty and licentious, of Arab poets. He was one of Haroun er Reshid's boon-companions and died early in the ninth century.

[FN#105] See note, p. 274.{see Vol. 3, FN#102}

[FN#106] The above appears to be the meaning of this somewhat obscure passage; but we may perhaps translate it as follows: "May God preserve (us) from the mischief of he Commander of the Faithful!" "O Vizier," answered the Khalif, "the mischief is passing great."

[FN#107] Meaning that the robbery must have been committed by some inmate of the palace.

[FN#108] Amir. Thus the Breslau edition; the two others give
Amin, i.e. one who is trusted or in a position of trust.

[FN#109] According to Mohammedan tradition, it was Ishmael, not
Isaac, whom Abraham was commanded to sacrifice.

[FN#110] Apparently a sort of blackmail levied upon merchants and others by the soldiers who protected them against the Bedouins.

[FN#111] A village on the Gulf of Scanderoon.

[FN#112] Or perhaps dinars, the coin not being specified.

[FN#113] Or sectary of Ali. The Shiyaites did not acknowledge the first three Khalifs Abou Bekr, Omar, and Othman, and were wont to write their names upon their heels, in token of contempt. The Sunnites are the orthodox Muslims, who accept the actual order of things.

[FN#114] An open-fronted reception-room, generally on the first floor and giving on the interior court of the house.

[FN#115] Instead of "rank of Amir," we should perhaps read "knighthood."

[FN#116] i.e. It is not enough. See Vol. II, p. 74, note. {see
Vol. 2, FN#29}

[FN#117] Confessional?

[FN#118] £500.

[FN#119] The Mohammedans accuse the Jews, as well as the Christians, of falsifying their sacred books, so as to suppress the mention of Mohammed.

[FN#120] A very famous Arab chieftain of the latter part of the sixth century, especially renowned for the extravagance with which he practiced the patriarchal virtues of generosity and hospitality. He died a few years after Mohammed's birth.

[FN#121] Another famous Oriental type of generosity. He was a celebrated soldier and statesman of the eighth century and stood in high favour with the Ommiade Khalifs, as also (after the change of dynasty) with those of the house of Abbas.

[FN#122] Apparently meaning the upper part of the carpet whereon the Amir's chair was set. It is the place of honour and has a peculiar sanctity among the Arabs, it being a breach of good manners to tread upon it (or indeed upon any part of the carpet) with shodden feet.

[FN#123] Apparently Toledo.

[FN#124] Sixth Khalif of the Ommiade dynasty, A.D. 705-716.

[FN#125] Or perhaps "of that which is due to men of worth."

[FN#126] It is the invariable custom (and indeed the duty) of every Muslim to salute his co-religionist with the words "Peace be on thee!" upon first accosting him.

[FN#127] He having then returned to his palace.

[FN#128] i.e. of life.

[FN#129] Lit. to dispute about or defend itself, Koran xvi 112.

[FN#130] The Rages of the Apocrypha; a great city of Persia, formerly its capital, but now a mere heap of ruins in the neighbourhood of Teheran.

[FN#131] Ibrahim ben El Mehdi was one of the most celebrated musicians and wits of his day. "He was a man of great merit and a perfect scholar, possessed of an open heart and a generous hand; his like had never before been seen among the sons of the Khalifs, none of whom spoke with more propriety and elegance or composed verses with greater ability." (Ibn Khellikan.)

[FN#132] Ibrahim of Mosul, the greatest musician of the time, a boon-companion and special favourite of Haroun er Reshid and his son.

[FN#133] Lit. the lord of the blood-revenge, i.e. the person entitled to exact the blood-wit.

[FN#134] His Vizier.

[FN#135] Joseph to his brethren, Koran xii. 92.

[FN#136] Playing upon the literal meaning, "blood-sucker," of the word kejjam, cupper or barber-surgeon.

[FN#137] The Arabic word is el Medineh, lit. the city. Perhaps the narrator meant to compare the citadel to the actual city of Medina.

[FN#138] A well-known theologian.

[FN#139] Koran lxxxix. 6, 7.

[FN#140] According to the Breslau edition, it was the prophet Hond who, being sent of God to exhort Sheddad and his people to embrace the true faith, promised them Paradise in the next world, as a reward, describing it as above. Quoth Sheddad, on hearing this description, "I will build me in this world the like of this Paradise and I have no need of that thou promisest me."

[FN#141] i.e. the prophet Houd (Heber).

[FN#142] Son of Ibrahim el Mausili and still more famous as a musician. He was also an excellent poet and a great favourite with the Khalif Mamoun.

[FN#143] Mamoun's own Vizier, a man of great wealth and munificence.

[FN#144] Witout the town.

[FN#145] Medewwerek, lit. "something round." This word generally means a small round cushion; but, in the present instance, a gong is evidently referred to.

[FN#146] The Prophet's uncle, from whom the Abbaside Khalifs were descended.

[FN#147] Lit. "fugleman," i.e. "leader of the people at prayer," a title bestowed upon the Khalifs, in recognition of their spiritual headship.

[FN#148] Dies albo lapide notanda.

[FN#149] Lit. Kaabeh.

[FN#150] Referring to the station in the Temple of Mecca, known as the Mecam or standing-place of Abraham. The wish inferred is that the Khalif's court may be as favourite a place of reverent resort as the station in question.

[FN#151] Or (quaere) a pair of forceps.

[FN#152] See ante, p. 335. {see Vol. 3, FN#139}

[FN#153] i.e. thieves.

[FN#154] See ante, p. 337. {…to Many-Columned Irem, at the …}

[FN#155] A city on the Euphrates, about 40 miles west of Baghdad.

[FN#156] The famous King of Persia.

[FN#157] In Arabia.

[FN#158] Lit. "a thorn-acacia tree." Quaere, the name of a town in Egypt?

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOOK OF THE THOUSAND NIGHTS AND ONE NIGHT, VOLUME III ***

VOLUME THE FOURTH.

1901

Delhi Edition

Contents of The Fourth Volume.

1. The Imam Abou Yousuf With Haroun er Reshid and his Vizier Jaafer 2. The Lover Who Feigned Himself a Thief to save His Mistress's Honour 3. Jaafer the Barmecide and the Bean-seller 4. Abou Mohammed the Lazy 5. Yehya Ben Khalid and Mensour 6. Yehya Ben Khalid and the Man Who Forged a Letter in His Name 7. The Khalif el Mamoun and the Strange Doctor 8. Ali Shar and Zumurrud 9. The Loves of Jubeir Ben Umeir and the Lady Budour 10. The Man of Yemen and His Six Slave Girls 11. Haroun er Reshid with the Damsel and Abou Nuwas 12. The Man Who Stole The Dog's Dish of Gold 13. The Sharper of Alexandria and the Master of Police 14. El Melik en Nasir and the Three Masters of Police a. Story of the Chief of the New Cairo Police b. Story of the Chief of the Boulac Police c. Story of the chief of the Old Cairo Police 15. The Thief and the Money-Changer 16. The Chief of the Cous Police and the Sharper 17. Ibrahim Ben el Mehdi and the Merchant's Sister 18. The Woman Whose Hands Were Cut Off For Almsgiving 19. The Devout Israelite 20. Abou Hassan ez Ziyadi and the Man From Khorassan 21. The Poor Man and his Generous Friend 22. The Ruined Man Who Became Rich Again Through a Dream 23. El Mutawekkil and his Favourite Mehboubeh 24. Werdan the Butcher's Adventure with the Lady and the Bear 25. The King's Daughter and the Ape 26. The Enchanted Horse 27. Uns El Eoujoud and the Vizier's Daughter Rose-in-Bud 28. Abou Nuwas with the Three Boys and the Khalif Haroun er Reshid 29. Abdallah Ben Maamer with the Man of Bassora and His Slave Girl 30. The Lovers of the Benou Udhreh 31. The Vizier of Yemen and His Young Brother 32. Loves of the Boy and Girl at School 33. El Mutelemmis and His Wife Umeimeh 34. Haroun er Reshid and Zubeideh in the Bath 35. Haroun er Reshid and the Three Poets 36. Musab Ben ez Zubeir and Aaisheh His Wife 37. Aboulasweh and His Squinting Slave Girl 38. Haroun er Reshid ad the Two Girls 39. Hroun er Reshid and the Three Girls 40. The Miller and his Wife 41. The Simpleton and the Sharper 42. The Imam Abou Yousuf with Haroun er Reshid and Zubeideh 43. The Khalif el Hakim and the Merchant 44. King Kisra Anoushirwan and the Village Damsel 45. The Water-Carrier and the Goldsmith's Wife 46. Khusrau and Shirin and the Fisherman 47. Yehya Ben Khalid and the Poor Man 48. Mohammed El Amin and Jaafer Ben el Hadi 49. Said Ben Salim and the Barmecides 50. The Woman's Trick Against Her Husband 51. The Devout Woman and the Two Wicked Elders 52. Jaafer the Barmecide and the Old Bedouin 53. Omar Ben Khettab and the Young Bedouin 54. El Mamoun and the Pyramids of Egypt 55. The Thief Turned Merchant and the Other Thief 56. Mesrour and Ibn El Caribi 57. The Devout Prince 58. The Schoolmaster Who Fell in Love by Report 59. The Foolish Schoolmaster 60. The Ignorant Man Who Set up For a Schoolmaster 61. The King and the Virtuous Wife 62. Abdurrehman the Moor's Story of the Roc 63. Adi Ben Zeid and the Princess Hind 64. Dibil el Khuzai With the Lady and Muslim Ben el Welid 65. Isaac of Mosul and the Merchant 66. The Three Unfortunate Lovers 67. The Lovers of the Benou Tai 68. The Mad Lover 69. The Apples of Paradise 70. The Loves of Abou Isa and Current El Ain 71. El Amin and His Uncle Ibrahim Ben el Mehdi 72. El Feth Ben Khacan and El Mutawekkil 73. The Man's Dispute with the Learned Woman of the Relative Excellence of the Male and the Female 74. Abou Suweid and the Handsome Old Woman 75. Ali Ben Tahir and the Birl Mounis 76. The Woman Who Has a Boy and the Other Who Had a Man to Lover 77. The Haunted House in Baghdad 78. The Pilgrim and the Old Woman Who Dwelt in the Desert 79. Aboulhusn and His Slave Girl Taweddud

THE BOOK OF THE THOUSAND NIGHTS AND ONE NIGHT

HOW THE IMAM ABOU YOUSUF EXTRICATED THE KHALIF HAROUN ER RESHID AND HIS VIZIER JAAFER FROM A DILEMMA.

It is said that Jaafer the Barmecide was one night carousing with Er Reshid, when the latter said to him, 'O Jaafer, I hear that thou hast bought such and such a slave-girl. Now I have long sought her and my heart is taken up with love of her, for she is passing fair; so do thou sell her to me.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' replied Jaafer, 'I will not sell her.' 'Then give her to me,' rejoined the Khalif. 'Nor will I give her,' answered Jaafer. 'Be Zubeideh triply divorced,' exclaimed Haroun, 'if thou shalt not either sell or give her to me!' Quoth Jaafer, 'Be my wife triply divorced, if I either sell or give her to thee!' After awhile they recovered from their intoxication and were ware that they had fallen into a grave dilemma, but knew not how to extricate themselves. Then said Er Reshid, 'None can help us in this strait but Abou Yousuf.'[FN#1] So they sent for him, and this was in the middle of the night. When the messenger reached the Imam, he arose in alarm, saying in himself, 'I should not be sent for at this hour, save by reason of some crisis in Islam.' So he went out in haste and mounted his mule, saying to his servant, 'Take the mule's nose-bag with thee; it may be she has not finished her feed; and when we come to the Khalif's palace, put the bag on her, that she may eat what is left of her fodder, whilst I am with the Khalif.' 'I hear and obey,' replied the man.

So the Imam rode to the palace and was admitted to the presence of Er Reshid, who made him sit down on the couch beside himself, whereas he was used to seat none but him, and said to him, 'We have sent for thee at this hour to advise us upon a grave matter, with which we know not how to deal' And he expounded to him the case. 'O Commander of the Faithful,' replied Abou Yousuf, 'this is the easiest of things.' Then he turned to Jaafer and said to him, 'O Jaafer, sell half of her to the Commander of the Faithful and give him the other half; so shall ye both be quit of your oaths.' The Khalif was delighted with this and they did as he prescribed. Then said Er Reshid, 'Bring me the girl at once, for I long for her exceedingly.' So they brought her and the Khalif said to Abou Yousuf, 'I have a mind to lie with her forthright; for I cannot endure to abstain from her during the prescribed period of purification; how is this to be done?' 'Bring me one of thine unenfranchised male slaves,' answered the Imam, 'and give me leave to marry her to him; then let him divorce her before consummation. So shall it be lawful for thee to lie with her before purification.' This expedient pleased the Khalif yet more than the first and he sent for the slave. When he came, Er Reshid said to the Imam, 'I authorize thee to marry her to him.' So the Imam proposed the marriage to the slave, who accepted it, and performed the due ceremony; after which he said to the slave, 'Divorce her, and thou shalt have a hundred diners.' But he refused to do this and the Imam went on to increase his offer, till he bid him a thousand diners. Then said the slave to him, 'Doth it rest with me to divorce her, or with thee or the Commander of the Faithful?' 'With thee,' answered the Imam. 'Then, by Allah,' quoth the slave, 'I will never do it!'

At this the Khalif was exceeding wroth and said to the Imam, 'What is to be done, O Abou Yousuf?' 'Be not concerned, O Commander of the Faithful,' replied the Imam; 'the thing is easy. Make this slave the damsel's property.' Quoth Er Reshid, 'I give him to her;' and the Imam said to the girl, 'Say, "I accept."' So she said, 'I accept:' whereupon quoth Abou Yousuf, 'I pronounce divorce between them, for that he hath become her property, and so the marriage is annulled.' With this, Er Reshid sprang to his feet and exclaimed, 'It is the like of thee that shall be Cadi in my time.' Then he called for sundry trays of gold and emptied them before Abou Yousuf, to whom he said, 'Hast thou wherein to put this ?' The Imam bethought him of the mule's nose-bag; so he sent for it and filling it with gold, took it and went home; and on the morrow, he said to his friends, 'There is no easier or shorter road to the goods of this world and the next, than that of learning; for, see, I have received all this money for answering two or three questions.' Consider, then, O polite [reader], the pleasantness of this anecdote, for it comprises divers goodly features, amongst which are the complaisance of Jaafer to Er Reshid and the wisdom[FN#2] of the Khalif and the exceeding wisdom of Abou Yousuf, may God the Most High have mercy on all their souls!

THE LOVER WHO FEIGNED HIMSELF A THIEF TO SAVE HIS MISTRESS'S HONOUR.

There came one day to Khalid ibn Abdallah el Kesri,[FN#3] governor of Bassora, a company of men dragging a youth of exceeding beauty and lofty bearing, whose aspect expressed good breeding and dignity and abundant wit They brought him before the governor, who asked what was to do with him, and they replied, 'This fellow is a thief, whom we caught last night in our dwelling.' Khalid looked at him and was struck with wonder at his well-favouredness and elegance; so he said to the others, 'Loose him,' and going up to the young man, asked what he had to say for himself. 'The folk have spoken truly,' answered he; 'and the case is as they have said.' 'And what moved thee to this,' asked Khalid, 'and thou so noble and comely of aspect?' 'The lust after worldly good,' replied the other, 'and the ordinance of God, glorified and exalted be He!' 'May thy mother be bereaved of thee!' rejoined Khalid. 'Hadst thou not, in thy fair face and sound sense and good breeding, what should restrain thee from thieving?' 'O Amir,' answered the young man, 'leave this talk and proceed to what God the Most High hath ordained; this is what my hands have earned, and God is no oppressor of His creatures.'[FN#4] Khalid was silent awhile, considering the matter; then he said to the young man, 'Verily, thy confession before witnesses perplexes me, for I cannot believe thee to be a thief. Surely thou hast some story that is other than one of theft. Tell it me'. 'O Amir,' replied the youth, 'deem thou nought save what I have confessed; for I have no story other than that I entered these folk's house and stole what I could lay hands on, and they caught me and took the stuff from me and carried me before thee.' Then Khalid bade clap him in prison and commanded a crier to make proclamation throughout Bassora, saying, 'Ho, whoso is minded to look upon the punishment of such an one, the thief, and the cutting off of his hand, let him be present tomorrow morning at such a place!'

When the youth found himself in prison, with irons on his feet, he sighed heavily and repeated the following verses, whilst the tears streamed from his eyes:

Khalid doth threaten me with cutting off my hand, Except I do
     reveal to him my mistress' case.
But, "God forbid," quoth I, "that I should e'er reveal That which
     of love for her my bosom doth embrace!"
The cutting-off my hand, for that I have confessed Unto, less
     grievous were to me than her disgrace.

The warders heard him and went and told Khalid, who sent for the youth after nightfall and conversed with him. He found him well-bred and intelligent and of a pleasant and vivacious wit; so he ordered him food and he ate. Then said Khalid, 'I know thou hast a story to tell that is no thief's; so, when the Cadi comes to-morrow morning and questions thee before the folk, do thou deny the charge of theft and avouch what may avert the cutting-off of thy hand; for the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve) saith, "In cases of doubt, eschew [or defer] punishment."' Then he sent him back to the prison, where he passed the night.

On the morrow, the folk assembled to see his hand cut off, nor was there man or woman in Bassora but came forth to look upon his punishment. Then Khalid mounted in company of the notables of the city and others and summoning the Cadi, sent for the young man, who came, hobbling in his shackles. There none saw him but wept for him, and the women lifted up their voices in lamentation. The Cadi bade silence the women and said to the prisoner, 'These folk avouch that thou didst enter their dwelling and steal their goods: belike thou stolest less than a quarter dinar?'[FN#5] 'Nay,' replied he, 'I stole more than that.' 'Peradventure,' rejoined the Cadi, 'thou art partner with them in some of the goods?' 'Not so,' replied the young man; 'it was all theirs. I had no right in it.' At this Khalid was wroth and rose and smote him on the face with his whip, applying this verse to his own case:

Man wisheth and seeketh his wish to fulfil, But Allah denieth save that which He will.

Then he called for the executioner, who came and taking the prisoner's hand, set the knife to it and was about to cut it off, when, behold, a damsel, clad in tattered clothes, pressed through the crowd of women and cried out and threw herself on the young man. Then she unveiled and showed a face like the moon; whereupon the people raised a mighty clamour and there was like to have been a riot amongst them. But she cried out her loudest, saying, 'I conjure thee, by Allah, O Amir, hasten not to cut off this man's hand, till thou have read what is in this scroll!' So saying, she gave him a scroll, and he took it and read therein the following verses:

O Khalid, this man is love-maddened, a cave of desire, Transfixed
     by the glances that sped from the bows of my eye.
The shafts of my looks 'twas that pierced him and slew him;
     indeed, He a bondsman of love, sick for passion and like for
     to die.
Yea, rather a crime, that he wrought not, he choose to confess
     Than suffer on her whom he cherished dishonour to lie.
Have ruth on a sorrowful lover; indeed he's no thief, But the
     noblest and truest of mortals for passion that sigh.

When he had read this, he called the girl apart and questioned her; and she told him that the young man was her lover and she his mistress. He came to the dwelling of her people, thinking to visit her, and threw a stone into the house, to warn her of his coming. Her father and brothers heard the noise of the stone and sallied out on him; but he, hearing them coming, caught up all the household stuff and made as if he would have stolen it, to cover his mistress's honour. 'So they seized him,' continued she, 'saying, "A thief!" and brought him before thee, whereupon he confessed to the robbery and persisted in his confession, that he might spare me dishonour; and this he did, making himself a thief, of the exceeding nobility and generosity of his nature.'

'He is indeed worthy to have his desire,' replied Khalid and calling the young man to him, kissed him between the eyes. Then he sent for the girl's father and bespoke him, saying, 'O elder, we thought to punish this young man by cutting off his hand; but God (to whom belong might and majesty) hath preserved us from this! and I now adjudge him the sum of ten thousand dirhems, for that he would have sacrificed his hand for the preservation of thine honour and that of thy daughter and the sparing you both reproach. Moreover, I adjudge other ten thousand dirhems to thy daughter, for that she made known to me the truth of the case; and I ask thy leave to marry him to her.' 'O Amir,' rejoined the old man, 'thou hast my consent.' So Khalid praised God and thanked Him and offered up a goodly exhortation and prayer; after which he said to the young man, 'I give thee this damsel to wife, with her own and her father's consent; and her dowry shall be this money, to wit, ten thousand dirhems. 'I accept this marriage at thy hands,' replied the youth and Khalid let carry the money on trays in procession to the young man's house, whilst the people dispersed, full of gladness. And surely [quoth he who tells the tale[FN#6]] never saw I a rarer day than this, for that its beginning was weeping and affliction and its end joy and gladness.

JAAFER THE BARMECIDE AND THE BEANSELLER.

When Haroun er Reshid put Jaafer the Barmecide to death, he commanded that all who wept or made moan for him should be crucified; so the folk abstained from this. Now there was a Bedouin from a distant desert, who used every year to make and bring to Jaafer an ode in his honour, for which he rewarded him with a thousand diners; and the Bedouin took them and returning to his own country, lived upon them, he and his family, for the rest of the year. Accordingly, he came with his ode at the wonted time and finding Jaafer done to death, betook himself to the place where his body was hanging, and there made his camel kneel down and wept sore and mourned grievously. Then he recited his ode and fell asleep. In his sleep Jaafer the Barmecide appeared to him and said, 'Thou hast wearied thyself to come to us and findest us as thou seest; but go to Bassora and ask for such a man there of the merchants of the town and say to him, "Jaafer the Barmecide salutes thee and bids thee give me a thousand diners, by the token of the bean."'

When the Bedouin awoke, he repaired to Bassora, where he sought out the merchant and repeated to him what Jaafer had said in the dream; whereupon he wept sore, till he was like to depart the world. Then he welcomed the Bedouin and entertained him three days as an honoured guest; and when he was minded to depart, he gave him a thousand and five hundred diners, saying, 'The thousand are what is commanded to thee, and the five hundred are a gift from me to thee; and every year thou shalt have of me a thousand diners.' When the Bedouin was about to take leave, he said to the merchant, 'I conjure thee, by Allah, tell me the story of the bean, that I may know the origin of all this.' 'In the early part of my life,' replied the merchant, 'I was miserably poor and hawked hot boiled beans about the streets of Baghdad for a living.

I went out one cold, rainy day, without clothes enough on my body to protect me from the weather, now shivering for excess of cold and now stumbling into the pools of rain-water, and altogether in so piteous a plight as would make one shudder to look upon. Now it chanced that Jaafer was seated that day, with his officers and favourites, in an upper chamber overlooking the street, and his eye fell on me; so he took pity on my case and sending one of his servants to fetch me to him, said to me, "Sell thy beans to my people." So I began to mete out the beans with a measure I had with me, and each who took a measure of beans filled the vessel with gold pieces, till the basket was empty. Then I gathered together the money I had gotten, and Jaafer said to me, "Hast thou any beans left?" "I know not," answered I and sought in the basket, but found only one bean. This Jaafer took and splitting it in twain, kept one half himself and gave the other to one of his favourites, saying, "For how much wilt thou buy this half-bean?" "For the tale of all this money twice-told," replied she; whereat I was confounded and said in myself, "This is impossible." But, as I stood wondering, she gave an order to one of her handmaids and the girl brought me the amount twice-told. Then said Jaafer, "And I will buy my half for twice the sum of the whole. Take the price of thy bean." And he gave an order to one of his servants, who gathered together the whole of the money and laid it in my basket; and I took it and departed. Then I betook myself to Bassora, where I traded with the money and God prospered me, to Him be the praise and the thanks! So, if I give thee a thousand diners a year of the bounty of Jaafer, it will in no wise irk me.' Consider then the munificence of Jaafer's nature and how he was praised both alive and dead, the mercy of God the Most High be upon him!

ABOU MOHAMMED THE LAZY.

It is told that Haroun er Reshid was sitting one day on the throne of the Khalifate, when there came in to him a youth of his eunuchs, bearing a crown of red gold, set with pearls and rubies and all manner other jewels, such as money might not buy, and kissing the ground before him, said, 'O Commander of the Faithful, the lady Zubeideh kisses the earth before thee and saith to thee, thou knowest she hath let make this crown, which lacks a great jewel for its top; and she hath made search among her treasures, but cannot find a jewel to her mind.' Quoth the Khalif to his chamberlains and officers, 'Make search for a great jewel, such as Zubeideh desires.' So they sought, but found nothing befitting her and told the Khalif, who was vexed thereat and exclaimed, 'Am I Khalif and king of the kings of the earth and lack of a jewel? Out on ye! Enquire of the merchants.' So they enquired of the merchants, who replied, 'Our lord the Khalif will not find a jewel such as he requires save with a man of Bassora, by name Abou Mohammed the Lazy.' They acquainted the Khalif with this and he bade his Vizier Jaafer send a letter to the Amir Mohammed ez Zubeidi, governor of Bassora, commanding him to equip Abou Mohammed the Lazy and bring him to Baghdad.

Jaafer accordingly wrote a letter to that effect and despatched it by Mesrour, who set out forthright for Bassora and went in to the governor, who rejoiced in him and entreated him with the utmost honour. Then Mesrour read him the Khalif's mandate, to which he replied, 'I hear and obey,' and forthwith despatched him, with a company of his followers, to Abou Mohammed's house. When they reached it, they knocked at the door, whereupon a servant came out and Mesrour said to him, 'Tell thy master that the Commander of the Faithful calls for him.' The servant went in and told his master, who came out and found Mesrour, the Khalif's chamberlain, and a company of the governor's men at the door. So he kissed the earth before Mesrour and said, 'I hear and obey the summons of the Commander of the Faithful; but enter ye my house.' 'We cannot do that,' replied Mesrour, 'save in haste; for the Commander of the Faithful awaits thy coming.' But he said, 'Have patience with me a little, till I set my affairs in order.' So, after much pressure and persuasion, they entered and found the corridor hung with curtains of blue brocade, figured with gold, and Abou Mohammed bade one of his servants carry Mesrour to the bath. Now this bath was in the house and Mesrour found its walls and floor of rare and precious marbles, wrought with gold and silver, and its waters mingled with rose-water. The servants served Mesrour and his company on the most perfect wise and clad them, on their going forth of the bath, in robes of honour of brocade, interwoven with gold.

Then they went in to Abou Mohammed and found him seated in his upper chamber upon a couch inlaid with jewels. Over his head hung curtains of gold brocade, wrought with pearls and jewels, and the place was spread with cushions, embroidered in red gold. When he saw Mesrour, he rose to receive him and bidding him welcome, seated him by his side. Then he called for food: so they brought the table of food, which when Mesrour saw, he exclaimed, 'By Allah, never saw I the like of this in the palace of the Commander of the Faithful!' For indeed it comprised all manner of meats, served in dishes of gilded porcelain. So they ate and drank and made merry till the end of the day, when Abou Mohammed gave Mesrour and each of his company five thousand diners; and on the morrow he clad them in dresses of honour of green and gold and entreated them with the utmost honour. Then said Mesrour to him, 'We can abide no longer, for fear of the Khalif's displeasure.' 'O my lord,' answered Abou Mohammed, 'have patience with us till to-morrow, that we may equip ourselves, and we will then depart with you.' So they tarried that day and night with him; and next morning, Abou Mohammed's servants saddled him a mule with housings and trappings of gold, set with all manner pearls and jewels; whereupon quoth Mesrour in himself, 'I wonder if, when he presents himself in this equipage before the Commander of the Faithful, he will ask him how he came by all this wealth.'

Then they took leave of Ez Zubeidi and setting out from Bassora, fared on, without stopping, till they reached Baghdad and presented themselves before the Khalif who bade Abou Mohammed be seated. So he sat down and addressing the Khalif in courtly wise, said to him, 'O Commander of the Faithful, I have brought with me a present by way of homage: have I thy leave to produce it?' 'There is no harm in that,' replied the Khalif; whereupon Abou Mohammed caused bring in a chest, from which he took a number of rarities and amongst the rest, trees of gold, with leaves of emerald and fruits of rubies and topazes and pearls. Then he fetched another chest and brought out of it a pavilion of brocade, adorned with pearls and rubies and emeralds and chrysolites and other precious stones; its poles were of the finest Indian aloes-wood, and its skirts were set with emeralds. Thereon were depicted all manner beasts and birds and other created things, spangled with rubies and emeralds and chrysolites and balass rubies and other precious stones.

When Er Reshid saw these things, he rejoiced exceedingly, and Abou Mohammed said to him, 'O Commander of the Faithful, deem not that I have brought these to thee, fearing aught or coveting aught; but I knew myself to be but a man of the people and that these things befitted none save the Commander of the Faithful. And now, with thy leave, I will show thee, for thy diversion, something of what I can do.' 'Do what thou wilt,' answered Er Reshid, 'that we may see.' 'I hear and obey,' said Abou Mohammed and moving his lips, beckoned to the battlements of the palace, whereupon they inclined to him; then he made another sign to them, and they returned to their place. Then he made a sign with his eye, and there appeared before him cabinets with closed doors, to which he spoke, and lo, the voices of birds answered him [from within]. The Khalif marvelled exceedingly at this and said to him, 'How camest thou by all this, seeing that thou art only known as Abou Mohammed the Lazy, and they tell me that thy father was a barber-surgeon, serving in a public bath, and left thee nothing?' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered he, 'listen to my story, for it is an extraordinary one and its particulars are wonderful; were it graven with needles upon the corners of the eye, it would serve as a lesson to him who can profit by admonition.' 'Let us hear it,' said the Khalif.

'Know then, O Commander of the Faithful,' replied Abou Mohammed, '(may God prolong to thee glory and dominion,) that the report of the folk, that I am known as the Lazy and that my father left me nothing, is true; for he was, as thou hast said, but a barber- surgeon in a bath. In my youth I was the laziest wight on the face of the earth; indeed, so great was my sluggishness that, if I lay asleep in the sultry season and the sun came round upon me, I was too lazy to rise and remove from the sun to the shade; and thus I abode till I reached my fifteenth year, when my father was admitted to the mercy of God the Most High and left me nothing. However, my mother used to go out to service and feed me and give me to drink, whilst I lay on my side.

One day, she came in to me, with five silver dirhems, and said to me, "O my son, I hear that the Sheikh Aboul Muzeffer is about to go a voyage to China." (Now this Sheikh was a good and charitable man and loved the poor.) "So come, let us carry him these five dirhems and beg him to buy thee therewith somewhat from the land of China, so haply thou mayst make a profit of it, by the bounty of God the Most High!" I was too lazy to move; but she swore by Allah that, except I rose and went with her, she would neither bring me meat nor drink nor come in to me, but would leave me to die of hunger and thirst. When I heard this, O Commander of the Faithful, I knew she would do as she said; so I said to her, "Help me to sit up." She did so, and I wept the while and said to her, "Bring me my shoes." Accordingly, she brought them and I said, "Put them on my feet." She put them on my feet and I said, "Lift me up." So she lifted me up and I said, "Support me, that I may walk." So she supported me and I went along thus, still stumbling in my skirts, till we came to the river-bank, where we saluted the Sheikh and I said to him, "O uncle, art thou Aboul Muzeffer?" "At thy service," answered he, and I said, "Take these dirhems and buy me somewhat from the land of China: haply, God may vouchsafe me a profit of it." Quoth the Sheikh to his companions, "Do ye know this youth?" "Yes," replied they; "he is known as Abou Mohammed the Lazy, and we never saw him stir from his house till now." Then said he to me, "O my son, give me the dirhems and the blessing of God the Most High go with them!" So he took the money, saying, "In the name of God!" and I returned home with my mother.

Meanwhile the Sheikh set sail, with a company of merchants, and stayed not till they reached the land of China, where they bought and sold, and having done their intent, set out on their homeward voyage. When they had been three days at sea, the Sheikh said to his company, "Stay the ship!" And they asked him what was to do with him. "Know," replied he, "that I have forgotten the commission with which Abou Mohammed the Lazy charged me; so let us turn back, that we may buy him somewhat whereby he may profit." "We conjure thee, by God the Most High," exclaimed they, "turn not back with us; for we have traversed an exceeding great distance and endured sore hardship and many perils." Quoth he, "There is no help for it;" and they said "Take from us double the profit of the five dirhems and turn not back with us." So he agreed to this and they collected for him a great sum of money.

Then they sailed on, till they came to an island, wherein was much people; so they moored thereto and the merchants went ashore, to buy thence precious metals and pearls and jewels and so forth. Presently, Aboul Muzeffer saw a man seated, with many apes before him, and amongst them one whose hair had been plucked off. As often as the man's attention was diverted from them, the other apes fell upon the plucked one and beat him and threw him on their master; whereupon the latter rose and beat them and bound them and punished them for this; and all the apes were wroth with the plucked ape therefor and beat him the more. When Aboul Muzeffer saw this, he took compassion upon the plucked ape and said to his master, "Wilt thou sell me yonder ape?" "Buy," replied the man, and Aboul Muzeffer rejoined, "I have with me five dirhems, belonging to an orphan lad. Wilt thou sell me the ape for that sum?" "He is thine," answered the ape-merchant. "May God give thee a blessing of him!" So the Sheikh paid the money and his slaves took the ape and tied him up in the ship.

Then they loosed sail and made for another island, where they cast anchor; and there came down divers, who dived for pearls and corals and other jewels. So the merchants hired them for money and they dived. When the ape saw this, he did himself loose from his bonds and leaping off the ship's side, dived with them; whereupon quoth Aboul Muzeffer, "There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme! The ape is lost to us, by the [ill] fortune of the poor fellow for whom we bought him." And they despaired of him; but, after awhile, the company of divers rose to the surface, and with them the ape, with his hands full of jewels of price, which he threw down before Aboul Muzeffer, who marvelled at this and said, "There hangs some great mystery by this ape!"

Then they cast off and sailed till they came to a third island, called the Island of the Zunonj,[FN#7] who are a people of the blacks, that eat human flesh. When the blacks saw them, they boarded them in canoes and taking all in the ship, pinioned them and carried them to their king who bade slaughter certain of the merchants. So they slaughtered them and ate their flesh; and the rest passed the night in prison and sore concern. But, when it was [mid]night, the ape arose and going up to Aboul Muzeffer, did off his bonds. When the others saw him free, they said, "God grant that our deliverance may be at thy hands, O Aboul Muzeffer!" But he replied, "Know that he who at delivered me, by God's leave, was none other than this ape; and I buy my release of him at a thousand dinars." "And we likewise," rejoined the merchants, "will pay him a thousand diners each, if he release us." With this, the ape went up to them and loosed their bonds, one by one, till he had freed them all, when they made for the ship and boarding her, found all safe and nothing missing. So they cast off and set sail; and presently Aboul Muzeffer said to them, "O merchants, fulfil your promise to the ape." "We hear and obey," answered they and paid him a thousand diners each, whilst Aboul Muzeffer brought out to him the like sum of his own monies, so that there was a great sum of money collected for the ape.

Then they fared on till they reached the city of Bassora, where their friends came out to meet them; and when they had landed, the Sheikh said, "Where is Abou Mohammed the Lazy?" The news reached my mother, who came to me, as I lay asleep, and said to me, "O my son, the Sheikh Aboul Muzeffer has come back and is now in the city; so go thou to him and salute him and enquire what he hath brought thee; it may be God hath blessed thee with somewhat." "Lift me from the ground," quoth I, "and prop me up, whilst I walk to the river-bank." So she lifted me up and I went out and walked on, stumbling in my skirts, till I met the Sheikh, who exclaimed, at sight of me, "Welcome to him whose money has been the means of my delivery and that of these merchants, by the will of God the Most High! Take this ape that I bought for thee and carry him home and wait till I come to thee." So I took the ape, saying in myself, "By Allah, this is indeed rare merchandise!" and drove it home, where I said to my mother, "Whenever I lie down to sleep, thou biddest me rise and trade; see now this merchandise with thine own eyes."

Then I sat down, and presently up came Aboul Muzeffer's slaves and said to me, "Art thou Abou Mohammed the Lazy?" "Yes," answered I; and behold, Aboul Muzeffer appeared behind them. So I went up to him and kissed his hands; and he said to me, "Come with me to my house." "I hear and obey," answered I and followed him to his house, where he bade his servants bring me the money [and what not else the ape had earned me]. So they brought it and he said to me, "O my son, God hath blessed thee with this wealth, by way of profit on thy five dirhems." Then the slaves laid the treasure in chests, which they set on their heads, and Aboul Muzeffer gave me the keys of the chests, saying, "Go before the slaves to thy house; for all this wealth is thine." So I returned to my mother, who rejoiced in this and said to me, "O my son, God hath blessed thee with this much wealth; so put off thy laziness and go down to the bazaar and sell and buy." So I shook off my sloth, and opened a shop in the bazaar, where the ape used to sit on the same divan with me, eating with me when I ate and drinking when I drank. But, every day, he was absent from daybreak till noon-day, when he came back, bringing with him a purse of a thousand diners, which he laid by my side, and sat down. Thus did he a great while, till I amassed much wealth, wherewith I bought houses and lands and planted gardens and got me slaves, black and white and male and female.

One day, as I sat in my shop, with the ape at my side, he began to turn right and left, and I said in myself, "What ails the beast?" Then God made the ape speak with a glib tongue, and he said to me, "O Abou Mohammed!" When I heard him speak, I was sore afraid; but he said to me, "Fear not; I will tell thee my case. Know that I am a Marid of the Jinn and came to thee, because of thy poor estate; but to-day thou knowest not the tale of thy wealth; and now I have a need of thee, wherein it thou do my will, it shall be well for thee." "What is it?" asked I, and he said, "I have a mind to marry thee to a girl like the full moon." "How so?" quoth I. "To. morrow," replied he, "don thou thy richest clothes and mount thy mule, with the saddle of gold, and ride to the forage-market. There enquire for the shop of the Sherif[FN#8] and sit down beside him and say to him, 'I come to thee a suitor for thy daughter's hand.' If he say to thee, 'Thou hast neither money nor condition nor family,' pull out a thousand diners and give them to him; and if he ask more, give him more and tempt him with money." "I hear and obey," answered I; "to-morrow, if it please God, I will do thy bidding."

So on the morrow I donned my richest clothes and mounting my mule with trappings of gold, rode, attended by half a score slaves, black and white, to the forage-market, where I found the Sherif sitting in his shop. I alighted and saluting him, seated myself beside him. Quoth he, "Haply, thou hast some business with us, which we may have the pleasure of transacting?" "Yes," answered I; "I have business with thee." "And what is it?" asked he. Quoth I, "I come to thee as a suitor for thy daughter's hand." And he said, "Thou hast neither money nor condition nor family;" whereupon I pulled out a thousand diners of red gold and said to him, "This is my rank and family; and he whom God bless and keep hath said, 'The best of ranks is wealth.' And how well saith the poet:

Whoso hath money, though it be but dirhems twain, his lips Have
     learnt all manner speech and he can speak and fear no
     slight.
His brethren and his mates draw near and hearken to his word And
     'mongst the folk thou seest him walk, a glad and prideful
     wight.
But for the money, in the which he glorieth on this wise,
     Thou'dst find him, midst his fellow-men, in passing sorry
     plight.
Yea, whensoe'er the rich man speaks, though in his speech he err,
     'Thou hast not spoken a vain thing,' they say; 'indeed,
     thou'rt right.'
But, for the poor man, an he speak, albeit he say sooth, They
     say, 'Thou liest,' and make void his speech and hold it
     light
For money, verily, in all the lands beneath the sun, With
     goodliness and dignity cloth its possessors dight.
A very tongue it is for him who would be eloquent And eke a
     weapon to his hand who hath a mind to fight."

When he heard this, he bowed his head awhile, then, raising it, said, "If it must be so, I will have of thee other three thousand diners." "I hear and obey," answered I and sent one of my servants to my house for the money. When he came back with it, I handed it to the Sherif, who rose and bidding his servants shut his shop, invited his brother-merchants to the wedding; after which he carried me to his house and drew up the contract of marriage between his daughter and myself, saying to me, "After ten days, I will bring thee in to her." So I went home rejoicing and shutting myself up with the ape, told him what had passed; and he said, "Thou hast done well."

When the time appointed by the Sherif drew near, the ape said to me, "There is a thing I would fain have thee do for me; and after, thou shalt have of me what thou wilt." "What is that?" asked I. Quoth he, "At the upper end of the bridechamber stands a cabinet, on whose door is a padlock of brass and the keys under it. Take the keys and open the cabinet, in which thou wilt find a coffer of iron, with four talismanic flags at its angles. In its midst is a brass basin full of money, wherein is tied a white cock with a cleft comb; and on one side of the coffer are eleven serpents and on the other a knife. Take the knife and kill the cock; cut away the flags and overturn the chest; then go back to the bride and do away her maidenhead. This is what I have to ask of thee." "I hear and obey," answered I and betook myself to the Sherif's house.

As soon as I entered the bridechamber, I looked for the cabinet and found it even as the ape had described it. Then I went in to the bride and marvelled at her beauty and grace and symmetry, for indeed they were such as no tongue can set forth. So I rejoiced in her with an exceeding joy; and in the middle of the night, when she slept, I rose and taking the keys, opened the cabinet. Then I took the knife and killed the cock and threw down the flags and overturned the coffer, whereupon the girl awoke and seeing the closet open and the cock slain, exclaimed, "There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme! The Marid hath gotten me!" Hardly had she made an end of speaking, when the Marid came down upon the house and seizing the bride, flew away with her; whereupon there arose a great clamour and in came the Sherif, buffeting his face. "O Abou Mohammed," said he, "what is this thou hast done? Is it thus thou requitest us? I made the talisman in the cabinet in my fear for my daughter from this accursed one; for these six years hath he sought to steal away the girl, but could not. But now there is no more abiding for thee with us; so go thy ways."

So I went out and returned to my own house, where I made search for the ape, but could find no trace of him; whereby I knew that he was the Marid, who had taken my wife and had tricked me into destroying the talisman that hindered him from taking her, and repented, rending my clothes and buffeting my face; and there was no land but was straitened upon me. So I made for the desert, knowing not whither I should go, and wandered on, absorbed in melancholy thought, till night overtook me. Presently, I saw two serpents fighting, a white one and a tawny. So I took up a stone and throwing it at the tawny serpent, which was the aggressor, killed it; whereupon the white serpent made off, but returned after awhile accompanied by ten others of the same colour, which went up to the dead serpent and tore it in pieces, till but the head was left. Then they went their ways and I fell prostrate for weariness on the ground where I stood; but, as I lay, pondering my case, I heard a voice repeat the following verses, though I saw no one:

Let destiny with slackened rein its course appointed fare And lie
     thou down by night to sleep with heart devoid of care.
For, twixt the closing of the eyes and th' opening thereof, God
     hath it in His power to change a case from foul to fair.

When I heard this, great concern got hold of me and I was beyond measure troubled; and I heard a voice from behind me repeat these verses also:

Muslim, whose guide's the Koran and his due, Rejoice, for succour
     cometh thee unto.
Let not the wiles of Satan make thee rue, For we're a folk whose
     creed's the One, the True.

Then said I, "I conjure thee by Him whom thou worshippest, let me know who thou art!" Thereupon the unseen speaker appeared to me, in the likeness of a man, and said, "Fear not; for the report of thy good deed hath reached us, and we are a people of the true-believing Jinn. So, if thou lack aught, let us know it, that we may have the pleasure of fulfilling thy need." "Indeed," answered I, "I am in sore need, for there hath befallen me a grievous calamity, whose like never yet befell man." Quoth he, "Surely, thou art Abou Mohammed the Lazy?" And I answered, "Yes." "O Abou Mohammed," rejoined the genie, "I am the brother of the white serpent, whose enemy thou slewest. We are four brothers, by one father and mother, and we are all indebted to thee for thy kindness. Know that he who played this trick on thee, in the likeness of an ape, is a Marid of the Marids of the Jinn; and had he not used this artifice, he had never been able to take the girl; for he hath loved her and had a mind to take her this long while, but could not win at her, being hindered of the talisman; and had it remained as it was, he could never have done so. However, fret not thyself for that; we will bring thee to her and kill the Marid; for thy kindness is not lost upon us."

Then he cried out with a terrible voice, and behold, there appeared a company of Jinn, of whom he enquired concerning the ape; and one of them said, "I know his abiding-place; it is in the City of Brass, upon which the sun riseth not." Then said the first genie to me, "O Abou Mohammed, take one of these our slaves, and he will carry thee on his back and teach thee how thou shalt get back the girl: but know that he is a Marid and beware lest thou utter the name of God, whilst he is carrying thee; or he will flee from thee, and thou wilt fall and be destroyed." "I hear and obey," answered I and chose out one of the slaves, who bent down and said to me, "Mount." So I mounted on his back, and he flew up with me into the air, till I lost sight of the earth and saw the stars as they were fixed mountains and heard the angels glorifying God in heaven, what while the Marid held me in converse, diverting me and hindering me from pronouncing the name of God. But, as we flew, behold, one clad in green raiment, with streaming tresses and radiant face, holding in his hand a javelin whence issued sparks of fire, accosted me, saying, "O Abou Mohammed, say, 'There is no god but God and Mohammed is His apostle;' or I will smite thee with this javelin."

Now I was already sick at heart of my [forced] abstention from calling on the name of God; so I said, "There is no god but God and Mohammed is His apostle." Whereupon the shining one smote the Marid with his javelin and he melted away and became ashes; whilst I was precipitated from his back and fell headlong toward the earth, till I dropped into the midst of a surging sea, swollen with clashing billows. Hard by where I fell was a ship and five sailors therein, who, seeing me, made for me and took me up into the boat. They began to speak to me in some tongue I knew not; but I signed to them that I understood not their speech. So they fared on till ended day, when they cast out a net and caught a great fish and roasting it, gave me to eat; after which they sailed on, till they reached their city and carried me in to their king, who understand Arabic. So I kissed the ground before him, and he bestowed on me a dress of honour and made me one of his officers. I asked him the name of the city, and he replied, "It is called Henad and is in the land of China." Then he committed me to his Vizier, bidding him show me the city, which was formerly peopled by infidels, till God the Most High turned them into stones; and there I abode a month's space, diverting myself with viewing the place, nor saw I ever greater plenty of trees and fruits than there.

One day, as I sat on the bank of a river, there accosted me a horseman, who said to me, "Art thou not Abou Mohammed the Lazy?" "Yes," answered I; whereupon, "Fear not," said he; "for the report of thy good deed hath reached us." Quoth I, "Who art thou?" And he answered, "I am a brother of the white serpent, and thou art hard by the place where is the damsel whom thou seekest." So saying, he took off his [outer] clothes and clad me therein, saying, "Fear not; for he, that perished under thee, was one of our slaves." Then he took me up behind him and rode on with me, till we came to a desert place, when he said to me, "Alight now and walk on between yonder mountains till thou seest the City of Brass; then halt afar off and enter it not, till I return to thee and teach thee how thou shalt do." "I hear and obey," replied I and alighting, walked on till I came to the city, the walls whereof I found of brass. I went round about it, looking for a gate, but found none; and presently, the serpent's brother rejoined me and gave me a charmed sword that should hinder any from seeing me, then went his way.

He had been gone but a little while, when I heard a noise of cries and found myself in the midst of a multitude of folk whose eyes were in their breasts. Quoth they, "Who art thou and what brings thee hither?" So I told them my story, and they said, "The girl thou seekest is in the city with the Marid; but we know not what he hath done with her. As for us, we are brethren of the white serpent. But go to yonder spring and note where the water enters, and enter thou with it; for it will bring thee into the city." I did as they bade me and followed the water-course, till it brought me to a grotto under the earth, from which I ascended and found myself in the midst of the city. Here I saw the damsel seated upon a throne of gold, under a canopy of brocade, midmost a garden full of trees of gold, whose fruits were jewels of price, such as rubies and chrysolites and pearls and coral.

When she saw me, she knew me and accosted me with the [obligatory] salutation, saying, "O my lord, who brought thee hither?" So I told her all that had passed and she said, "Know that the accursed Marid, of the greatness of his love for me, hath told me what doth him hurt and what profit and that there is here a talisman by means whereof he could, an he would, destroy this city and all that are therein. It is in the likeness of an eagle, with I know not what written on it, and whoso possesses it, the Afrits will do his commandment in everything. It stands upon a column in such a place; so go thou thither and take it. Then set it before thee and taking a chafing-dish, throw into it a little musk, whereupon there will arise a smoke, that will draw all the Afrits to thee, and they will all present themselves before thee, nor shall one be absent; and whatsoever thou biddest them, that will they do. Arise therefore and do this thing, with the blessing of God the Most High."

"I hear and obey," answered I and going to the column, did what she bade me, whereupon the Afrits presented themselves, saying, "Here are we, O our lord! Whatsoever thou biddest us, that will we do." Quoth I, "Bind the Marid that brought the damsel hither." "We hear and obey," answered they and disappearing, returned after awhile and informed me that they had done my bidding. Then I dismissed them and returning to my wife, told her what had happened and said to her, "Wilt thou go with me?" "Yes," answered she. So I carried her forth of the city, by the underground channel, and we fared on, till we fell in with the folk who had shown me the way into the city. I besought them to teach me how I should return to my native land; so they brought us to the seashore and set us aboard a ship, which sailed on with us with a fair wind, till we reached the city of Bassora. Here we landed, and I carried my wife to her father's house; and when her people saw her, they rejoiced with an exceeding joy. Then I fumigated the eagle with musk and the Afrits flocked to me from all sides, saying, "At thy service; what wilt thou have us do?" I bade them transport all that was in the City of Brass of gold and silver and jewels and precious things to my house in Bassora, which they did; and I then ordered them to fetch the ape. So they brought him before me, abject and humiliated, and I said to him, "O accursed one, why hast thou dealt thus perfidiously with me?" Then I commanded the Afrits to shut him in a brazen vessel: so they put him in a strait vessel of brass and sealed it with lead. But I abode with my wife in joy and delight; and now, O Commander of the Faithful, I have under my hand such stores of precious things and rare jewels and other treasure as neither reckoning may comprise nor measure suffice unto. All this is of the bounty of God the Most High, and if thou desire aught of money or what not, I will bid the Jinn bring it to thee forthright.'

The Khalif wondered greatly at his story and bestowed on him royal gifts, in exchange for his presents, and entreated him with the favour he deserved.

THE GENEROUS DEALING OF YEHYA BEN KHALID THE BARMECIDE WITH MENSOUR.

It is told that Haroun er Reshid, in the days before he became jealous of the Barmecides, sent once for one of his guards, Salih by name, and said to him, 'O Salih, go to Mensour[FN#9] and say to him, "Thou owest us a thousand thousand dirhems and we require of thee immediate payment of the amount." And I charge thee, O Salih, an he pay it not before sundown, sever his head from his body and bring it to me.' 'I hear and obey,' answered Salih and going to Mensour, acquainted him with what the Khalif had said, whereupon quoth he, 'By Allah, I am a lost man; for all my estate and all my hand owns, if sold for their utmost value, would not fetch more than a hundred thousand dirhems. Whence then, O Salih, shall I get the other nine hundred thousand?' 'Contrive how thou mayst speedily acquit thyself,' answered Salih; 'else art thou a dead man; for I cannot grant thee a moment's delay after the time appointed me by the Khalif, nor can I fail of aught that he hath enjoined on me. Hasten, therefore, to devise some means of saving thyself ere the time expire.' 'O Salih,' quoth Mensour, 'I beg thee of thy favour to bring me to my house, that I may take leave of my children and family and give my kinsfolk my last injunctions.'

So he carried him to his house, where he fell to bidding his family farewell, and the house was filled with a clamour of weeping and lamentation and calling on God for help. Then Salih said to him, 'I have bethought me that God may peradventure vouchsafe thee relief at the hands of the Barmecides. Come, let us go to the house of Yehya ben Khalid.' So they went to Yehya's house, and Mensour told him his case, whereat he was sore concerned and bowed his head awhile; then raising it, he called his treasurer and said to him, 'How much money have we in our treasury?' 'Five thousand dirhems,' answered the treasurer, and Yehya bade him bring them and sent a message to his son Fezl, saying, 'I am offered for sale estates of great price, that may never be laid waste; so send me somewhat of money.' Fezl sent him a thousand thousand dirhems, and he despatched a like message to his son Jaafer, who also sent him a thousand thousand dirhems; nor did he leave sending to his kinsmen of the Barmecides, till he had collected from them a great sum of mosey for Mensour. But the latter and Salih knew not of this; and Mensour said to Yehya, 'O my lord, I have laid hold upon thy skirt for I know not whither to look for the money but to thee; so discharge thou the rest of my debt for me, in accordance with thy wonted generosity, and make me thy freed slave.' Thereupon Yehya bowed his head and wept; then he said to a page, 'Harkye, boy, the Commander of the Faithful gave our slave-girl Denanir a jewel of great price: go thou to her and bid her send it us.' The page went out and presently returned with the jewel, whereupon quoth Yehya, 'O Mensour, I bought this jewel of the merchants for the Commander of the Faithful, for two hundred thousand diners, and he gave it to our slave-girl Denanir the lutanist. When he sees it with thee, he will know it and spare thy life and do thee honour for our sake; and now thy money is complete.'

So Salih took the money and the jewel and carried them to the Khalif, together with Mensour; but on the way? he heard the latter repeat this verse, applying it to his own case:

It was not love, indeed, my feet to them that led; Nay, but because the stroke of th' arrows I did dread.

When Salih heard this, he marvelled at the baseness and ingratitude of Mensour's nature, and turning upon him, said, 'There is none on the face of the earth better than the Barmecides, nor any baser nor more depraved than thou; for they bought thee off from death and saved thee from destruction, giving thee what should deliver thee; yet thou thankest them not nor praisest them, neither acquittest thee after the manner of the noble; nay, thou requitest their benevolence with this speech.' Then he went to Er Reshid and acquainted him with all that had passed; and he marvelled at the generosity and benevolence of Yehya ben Khalid and the baseness and ingratitude of Mensour and bade restore the jewel to Yehya, saying, 'That which we have given, it befits not that we take again.'

So Salih returned to Yehya, and acquainted him with Mensour's ill conduct; whereupon, 'O Salih,' replied he, 'when a man is in distress, sick at heart and distracted with melancholy thought. he is not to be blamed for aught that falls from him; for it comes not from the heart.' And he fell to seeking excuse for Mensour. But Salih wept [in telling the tale] and exclaimed, 'Never shall the revolving sphere bring forth into being the like of thee, O Yehya! Alas, that one of such noble nature and generosity should be buried beneath the earth! 'And he repeated the following verses:

Hasten to do the kindnesses thou hast a mind unto; For bounty is
     not possible at every tide and hour.
How many a man denies his soul to do the generous deed, To which
     it's fain, till lack of means deprive him of the power!

THE GENEROUS DEALING OF YEHYA BEN KHALID WITH A MAN WHO FORGED A LETTER IN HIS NAME.

There was between Yehya ben Khalid and Abdallah ben Malik el Khuzai[FN#10] a secret enmity, the reason whereof was that Haroun er Reshid loved the latter with an exceeding love, so that Yehya and his sons were wont to say that he had bewitched the Khalif; and thus they abode a long while, with rancour in their hearts, till it fell out that the Khalif invested Abdallah with the government of Armenia and sent him thither. Soon after he had established himself in his seat of government, there came to him one of the people of Irak, a man of excellent parts and good breeding, who had lost his wealth and wasted his substance, and his estate was come to nought; so he forged a letter to Abdallah in Yehya's name and set out therewith for Armenia. When he came to the governor's gate, he gave the letter to one of the chamberlains, who carried it to his master. Abdallah read it and considering it attentively, knew it to be forged; so he sent for the man, who presented himself before him and called down blessings upon him and praised him and those of his court. Quoth Abdallah to him, 'What moved thee to weary thyself thus and bring me a forged letter? But be of good heart; for we will not disappoint thy travail.' 'God prolong the life of our lord the Vizier!' replied the other. 'If my coming irk thee, cast not about for a pretext to repel me, for God's earth is wide and the Divine Provider liveth. Indeed, the letter I bring thee from Yehya ben Khalid is true and no forgery.' Quoth Abdallah, 'I will write a letter to my agent at Baghdad and bid him enquire concerning the letter. If it be true, as thou sayest, I will bestow on thee the government of one of my cities; or, if thou prefer a present, I will give thee two hundred thousand dirhems, besides horses and camels of price and a robe of honour. But, if the letter prove a forgery, I will have thee beaten with two hundred blows of a stick and thy beard shaven.'

Accordingly, he bade confine him in a privy chamber and furnish him therein with all he needed, till his case should be made manifest. Then he despatched a letter to his agent at Baghdad, to the following purport: 'There is come to me a man with a letter purporting to be from Yehya ben Khalid. Now I have my doubts of this letter: so delay thou not, but go thyself and learn the truth of the case and let me have an answer in all speed.' When the letter reached the agent, he mounted at once and betook himself to the house of Yehya ben Khalid, whom he found sitting with his officers and boon-companions. So he gave him the letter and he read it and said to the agent, 'Come back to me to-morrow, against I write thee an answer.'

When the agent had gone away, Yehya turned to his companions and said, 'What doth he deserve who forgeth a letter in my name and carrieth it to my enemy?' They all answered, saying this and that, each proposing some kind of punishment; but Yehya said, 'Ye err in that ye say and this your counsel is of the meanness and baseness of your spirits. Ye all know the close favour of Abdallah with the Khalif and what is between him and us of despite and enmity; and now God the Most High hath made this man an intermediary, to effect a reconciliation between us, and hath appointed him to quench the fire of hate in our hearts, which hath been growing this score years; and by his means our differences shall be accorded. Wherefore it behoves me to requite him by confirming his expectation and amending his estate; so I will write him a letter to Abdallah, to the intent that he may use him with increase of honour and liberality.'

When his companions heard what he said, they called down blessings on him and marvelled at his generosity and the greatness of his magnanimity. Then he called for paper and ink and wrote Abdallah a letter in his own hand, to the following effect: 'In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful! Thy letter hath reached me (may God give thee long life!) and I have read it and rejoice in thy health and well-being. It was thy thought that yonder worthy man had forged a letter in my name and that he was not the bearer of any message from me; but the case is not so, for the letter I myself wrote, and it was no forgery; and I hope, of thy courtesy and benevolence and the nobility of thy nature, that thou wilt fulfil this generous and excellent man of his hope and wish and use him with the honour he deserves and bring him to his desire and make him the special object of thy favour and munificence. Whatever thou dost with him, it is to me that thou dost it, and I am beholden to thee accordingly.' Then he superscribed the letter and sealing it, delivered it to the agent, who despatched it to Abdallah.

When the latter read it, he was charmed with its contents and sending for the man, said to him, 'Now will I give thee which thou wilt of the two things I promised thee.' 'The gift were more acceptable to me than aught else,' replied the man; whereupon Abdallah ordered him two hundred thousand dirhems and ten Arab horses, five with housings of silk and other five with richly ornamented saddles of state, besides twenty chests of clothes and ten mounted white slaves and a proportionate quantity of jewels of price. Moreover, he bestowed on him a dress of honour and sent him to Baghdad in great state. When he came thither, he repaired to Yehya's house, before he went to his own folk, and sought an audience of him. So the chamberlain went in to Yehya and said to him, 'O my lord, there is one at our door who craves speech of thee; and he is a man of apparent wealth and consideration, comely of aspect and attended by many servants.' Yehya bade admit him; so he entered and kissed the ground before him. 'Who art thou?' asked Yehya; and he answered, 'O my lord, I am one who was dead from the tyranny of fortune; but thou didst raise me again from the grave of calamities and preferredst me to the paradise of [my] desires. I am he who forged a letter in thy name and carried it to Abdallah ben Malek el Khuzai.' 'How hath he dealt with thee,' asked Yehya, 'and what did he give thee?' Quoth the man, 'He hath made me rich and overwhelmed me with presents and favours, thanks to thee and thy great generosity and magnanimity and to thine exceeding goodness and abounding munificence and thine all-embracing liberality. And now, behold, I have brought all that he gave me, and it is at thy door; for it is thine to command, and the decision is in thy hand.' 'Thou hast done me better service than I thee,' rejoined Yehya; 'and I owe thee thanks without stint and abundant largesse, for that thou hast changed the enmity that was between me and yonder man of worship into love and friendship. Wherefore I will give thee the like of what Abdallah gave thee.' Then he ordered him money and horses and apparel, such as Abdallah had given him; and thus that man's fortune was restored to him by the munificence of these two generous men.

THE KHALIF EL MAMOUN AND THE STRANGE DOCTOR

It is said that there was none, among the Khalifs of the house of Abbas, more accomplished in all branches of knowledge than El Mamoun. On two days in each week, he was wont to preside at conferences of the learned, when the doctors and theologians met and sitting, each in his several rank and room, disputed in his presence. One day, as he sat thus, there came into the assembly a stranger, clad in worn white clothes, and sat down in an obscure place, behind the doctors of the law. Then the assembled scholars began to speak and expound difficult questions, it being the custom that the various propositions should be submitted to each in turn and that whoso bethought him of some subtle addition or rare trait, should make mention of it. So the question went round till it came to the stranger, who spoke in his turn and made a goodlier answer than that of any of the doctors; and the Khalif approved his speech and bade advance him to a higher room. When the second question came round to him, he made a still more admirable answer, and the Khalif ordered him to be preferred to a yet higher place. When the third question reached him, he made answer more justly and appropriately than on the two previous occasions, and El Mamoun bade him come up and sit near himself. When the conference broke up, water was brought and they washed their hands; after which food was set on and they ate. Then the doctors arose and withdrew; but El Mamoun forbade the stranger to depart with them and calling him to himself, entreated him with especial favour and promised him honour and benefits.

Presently, they made ready the banquet of wine; the fair-faced boon-companions came and the cup went round amongst them till it came to the stranger, who rose to his feet and said, 'If the Commander of the Faithful permit me, I will say one word.' 'Say what thou wilt,' answered the Khalif. Quoth the stranger, 'Verily, the Exalted Intelligence[FN#11] (whose eminence God increase!) knoweth that his slave was this day, in the august assembly, one of the unknown folk and of the meanest of the company, and the Commander of the Faithful distinguished him and brought him near to himself, little as was the wit he showed, preferring him above the rest and advancing him to a rank whereto his thought aspired not: and now he is minded to deprive him of that small portion of wit that raised him from obscurity and augmented him, after his littleness. God forfend that the Commander of the Faithful should envy his slave what little he hath of understanding and worth and renown! But, if his slave should drink wine, his reason would depart from him and ignorance draw near to him and steal away his good breeding; so would he revert to that low degree, whence he sprang, and become contemptible and ridiculous in the eyes of the folk. I hope, therefore, that the August Intelligence, of his power and bounty and royal generosity and magnanimity, will not despoil his slave of this jewel.'

When the Khalif heard his speech, he praised him and thanked him and making him sit down again in his place, showed him high honour and ordered him a present of a hundred thousand diners. Moreover he mounted him upon a horse and gave him rich apparel; and in every assembly he exalted him and showed him favour over all the other doctors, till he became the highest of them all in rank.

ALI SHAR AND ZUMURRUD.

There lived once, of old days, in the land of Khorassan, a merchant called Mejdeddin, who had great wealth and many slaves and servants, black and white; but he was childless until he reached the age of threescore, when God the Most High vouchsafed him a son, whom he named Ali Shar. The boy grew up like the moon on the night of its full, and when he came to man's estate and was endowed with all kinds of perfection, his father fell sick of a mortal malady and calling his son to him, said to him, 'O my son, the hour of my death is at hand, and I desire to give thee my last injunctions.' 'And what are they, O my father?' asked Ali. 'O my son,' answered Mejdeddin, 'I charge thee, be not [too] familiar with any and eschew what leads to evil and mischief. Beware lest thou company with the wicked; for he is like the blacksmith; if his fire burn thee not, his smoke irks thee: and how excellent is the saying of the poet:

There is no man in all the world whose love thou shouldst desire,
     No friend who, if fate play thee false, will true and
     constant be.
Wherefore I'd have thee live apart and lean for help on none. In
     this I give thee good advice; so let it profit thee.

And what another saith:

Men are a latent malady; Count not on them, I counsel thee. An if thou look into their case, They're full of guile and perfidy.

And yet a third:

The company of men will profit thee in nought, Except to pass
     away the time in idle prate;
So spare thou to converse with them, except it be For gain of
     lore and wit or mending of estate.

And a fourth

If a quickwitted man have made proof of mankind, I have eaten of
     them, where but tasted hath he,
And have seen their affection but practice and nought But
     hypocrisy found their religion to be.'

'O my father,' said Ali, 'I hear and obey: what more shall I do?' 'Do good when thou art able thereto,' answered his father; 'be ever courteous and succourable to men and profit by all occasions of doing a kindness; for a design is not always easy of accomplishment; and how well saith the poet:

'Tis not at every time and season that to do Kind offices,
     indeed, is easy unto you;
So, when the occasion serves, make haste to profit by't, Lest by
     and by the power should fail thee thereunto.'

'I hear and obey,' answered Ali; 'what more?' 'Be mindful of God,' continued Mejdeddin, 'and He will be mindful of thee. Husband thy wealth and squander it not; for, if thou do, thou wilt come to have need of the least of mankind. Know that the measure of a man's worth is according to what his right hand possesses: and how well saith the poet:

If wealth should fail, there is no friend will bear me company,
     But whilst my substance yet abounds, all men are friends to
     me.
How many a foe for money's sake hath companied with me! How many
     a friend for loss thereof hath turned mine enemy!'

'What more?' asked Ali. 'O my son,' said Mejdeddin, 'take counsel of those who are older than thou and hasten not to do thy heart's desire. Have compassion on those that are below thee, so shall those that are above thee have compassion on thee; and oppress none, lest God set over thee one who shall oppress thee. How well saith the poet:

Add others' wit to thine and counsel still ensue; For that the
     course of right is not concealed from two.
One mirror shows a man his face, but, if thereto Another one he
     add, his nape thus can he view.

And as saith another:

Be slow to move and hasten not to match thy heart's desire: Be
     merciful to all, as thou on mercy reckonest;
For no hand is there but the hand of God is over it, And no
     oppressor but shall be with worse than he opprest.

And yet another:

Do no oppression, whilst the power thereto is in thine hand; For
     still in peril of revenge the sad oppressor goes.
Thine eyes will sleep anon, what while the opprest, on wake, call
     down Curses upon thee, and God's eye shuts never in repose.

Beware of drinking wine, for it is the root of all evil: it does away the reason and brings him who uses it into contempt; and how well saith the poet:

By Allah, wine shall never invade me, whilst my soul Endureth in
     my body and my thoughts my words control!
Not a day long will I turn me to the zephyr-freshened bowl, And
     for friend I'll choose him only who of wine-bibbing is
     whole.

This, then,' added Mejdeddin, 'is my charge to thee; keep it before thine eyes, and may God stand to thee in my stead.' Then he swooned away and kept silence awhile. When he came to himself, he besought pardon of God and making the profession of the Faith, was admitted to the mercy of the Most High. His son wept and lamented for him and made due preparation for his burial. Great and small attended him to the grave and the readers recited the Koran about his bier; nor did Ali Shar omit aught of what was due to the dead. Then they prayed over him and committed him to the earth, graving these words upon his tomb:

Created of the dust thou wast and cam'st to life And eloquence
     didst learn and spokest many a word;
Then to the dust again returnedst and wast dead, As 'twere from
     out the dust, indeed, thou'dst never stirred.

His son Ali Shar grieved for him and mourned him after the wont of men of condition; nor did he cease therefrom till his mother died also, not long afterward, when he did with her as he had done with his father. Then he sat in the shop, selling and buying and consorting with none of God's creatures, in accordance with his father's injunction.

On this wise he abode for a year, at the end of which time there came in to him certain whoreson fellows by craft and companied with him, till he turned with them to lewdness and swerved from the right way, drinking wine in goblets and frequenting the fair night and day; for he said in himself, 'My father amassed this wealth for me, and if I spend it not, to whom shall I leave it? By Allah, I will not do save as saith the poet:

If all the days of thy life thou get And heap up treasure, to
     swell thy hoard,
When wilt thou use it and so enjoy That thou hast gathered and
     gained and stored?'

Then he ceased not to squander his wealth all tides of the day and watches of the night, till he had made away with it all and abode in evil case and troubled at heart. So he sold his shop and lands and so forth, and after this he sold the clothes off his body, leaving himself but one suit. Then drunkenness left him and thought came to him, and he fell into melancholy.

One day, when he had sat from day-break to mid-afternoon without breaking his fast, he said in himself, 'I will go round to those on whom I spent my wealth: it may be one of them will feed me this day.' So he went the round of them all; but, as often as he knocked at any one's door, the man denied himself and hid from him, till he was consumed with hunger. Then he betook himself to the bazaar, where he found a crowd of people, assembled in a ring round somewhat, and said in himself, 'I wonder what ails the folk to crowd together thus? By Allah, I will not remove hence, till I see what is within yonder ring!' So he made his way into the ring and found that the crowd was caused by a damsel exposed for sale. She was five feet high, slender of shape, rosy-cheeked and high- bosomed and surpassed all the people of her time in beauty and grace and elegance and perfection; even as saith one, describing her:

As she wished, she was created, after such a wise that lo! She in
     beauty's mould was fashioned, perfect, neither less no mo'.
Loveliness itself enamoured of her lovely aspect is; Coyness
     decks her and upon her, pride and pudour sweetly show.
In her face the full moon glitters and the branch is as her
     shape; Musk her breath is, nor midst mortals is her equal,
     high or low.
'Tis as if she had been moulded out of water of pure pearls; In
     each member of her beauty is a very moon, I trow.

And her name was Zumurrud.

When Ali Shar saw her, he marvelled at her beauty and grace and said, 'By Allah, I will not stir hence till I see what price this girl fetches and know who buys her!' So he stood with the rest of the merchants, and they thought he had a mind to buy her, knowing the wealth he had inherited from his parents. Then the broker stood at the damsel's head and said, 'Ho, merchants! Ho, men of wealth! Who will open the biddings for this damsel, the mistress of moons, the splendid pearl, Zumurrud the Curtain-maker, the aim of the seeker and the delight of the desirous? Open the biddings, and on the opener be nor blame nor reproach.'

So one merchant said, 'I bid five hundred dinars for her.' 'And ten,' said another. 'Six hundred,' cried an old man named Reshideddin, blue-eyed and foul of face. 'And ten,' quoth another. 'I bid a thousand,' rejoined Reshideddin; whereupon the other merchants were silent and the broker took counsel with the girl's owner, who said, 'I have sworn not to sell her save to whom she shall choose; consult her.' So the broker went up to Zumurrud and said to her, 'O mistress of moons, yonder merchant hath a mind to buy thee.' She looked as Reshideddin and finding him as we have said, replied, 'I will not be sold to a grey- beard, whom decrepitude hath brought to evil plight.' 'Bravo,' quoth I, 'for one who saith:

I asked her for a kiss one day, but she my hoary head Saw, though
     of wealth and worldly good I had great plentihead;
So, with a proud and flouting air, her back she turned on me And,
     "No, by Him who fashioned men from nothingness!" she said.
"Now, by God's truth, I never had a mind to hoary hairs, And
     shall my mouth be stuffed, forsooth, with cotton, ere I'm
     dead?"

'By Allah,' quoth the broker, 'thou art excusable, and thy value is ten thousand dinars!' So he told her owner that she would not accept of Reshideddin, and he said, 'Ask her of another.' Thereupon another man came forward and said, 'I will take her at the same price.' She looked at him and seeing that his beard was dyed, said, 'What is this lewd and shameful fashion and blackening of the face of hoariness?' And she made a great show of amazement and repeated the following verses:

A sight, and what a sight, did such a one present To me! A neck,
     to beat with shoes, by Allah, meant!
And eke a beard for lie a coursing-ground that was And brows for
     binding on of ropes all crook'd and bent.[FN#12]
Thou that my cheeks and shape have ravished, with a lie Thou dost
     disguise thyself and reck'st not, impudent;
Dyeing thy hoary hairs disgracefully with black[FN#13] And hiding
     what appears, with fraudulent intent;
As of the puppet-men thou wert, with one beard go'st And with
     another com'st again, incontinent.

And how well saith another:

Quoth she to me, "I see thou dy'st thy hoariness;" and I, "I do
     but hide it from thy sight, O thou my ear and eye!"[FN#14]
She laughed out mockingly and said, "A wonder 'tis indeed! Thou
     so aboundest in deceit that even thy hair's a lie."

'By Allah,' quoth the broker, 'thou hast spoken truly!' The merchant asked what she said: so the broker repeated the verses to him, and he knew that she was in the right and desisted from buying her. Then another came forward and would have bought her at the same price; but she looked at him and seeing that he had but one eye, said, 'This man is one-eyed; and it is of such as he that the poet saith:

Consort not with him that is one-eyed a day, And be on thy guard
     'gainst his mischief and lies:
For God, if in him aught of good had been found, Had not curst
     him with blindness in one of his eyes.'

Then the broker brought her another bidder and said to her, 'Wilt thou be sold to this man?' She looked at him and seeing that he was short of stature and had a beard that reached to his navel, said, 'This is he of whom the poet speaks, when he says:

I have a friend, who has a beard, that God Caused flourish
     without profit, till, behold.
'Tis, as it were, to look upon, a night Of middle winter, long
     and dark and cold.'

'O my lady,' said the broker, 'look who pleases thee of these that are present, and point him out, that I may sell thee to him.' So she looked round the ring of merchants, examining them one by one, till her eyes rested on Ali Shar. His sight cost her a thousand sighs and her heart was taken with him: for that he was passing fair of favour and more pleasant than the northern zephyr; and she said, 'O broker, I will be sold to none but my lord there, he of the handsome face and slender shape, whom the poet describes in the following verses:

They showed thy lovely face and railed At her whom ravishment
     assailed.
Had they desired to keep me chaste, Thy face so fair they should
     have veiled.

None shall possess me but he,' added she; 'for his cheek is smooth and the water of his mouth sweet as Selsebil;[FN#15] his sight is a cure for the sick and his charms confound poet and proser, even as saith one of him:

The water of his mouth is wine, and very musk The fragrance of
     his breath; his teeth are camphor white.
Rizwan hath put him our from paradise, for fear The black-eyed
     girls of heaven be tempted with the wight.
Men blame him for his pride; but the full moon's excuse, How
     proud so'er it be, finds favour in our sight.

Him of the curling locks and rose-red cheeks and enchanting glances, of whom saith the poet:

A slender loveling promised me his favours fair and free; So my
     heart's restless and my eye looks still his sight to see.
His eyelids warranted me the keeping of his troth; But how shall
     they, that bankrupt[FN#16] are, fulfil their warranty?

And as saith another:

"The script of whiskers on his cheek," quoth they, "is plain to
     see: How canst thou then enamoured be of him, and whiskered
     he?"
Quoth I, "Have done with blame and leave your censuring, I pray.
     As if it be a very script, it is a forgery.
Lo, in the gathering of his cheeks the meads of Eden be, And more
     by token that his lips are Kauther,[FN#17], verily."

When the broker heard the verses she repeated on the charms of Ali Shar, he marvelled at her eloquence, no less than at the brightness of her beauty; but her owner said to him, 'Marvel not at her beauty, that shames the sun of day, nor that her mind is stored with the choicest verses of the poets; for, besides this, she can repeat the glorious Koran, according to the seven readings, and the august Traditions, after the authentic text; and she writes the seven hands and is versed in more branches of knowledge than the most learned doctor. Moreover, her hands are better than gold and silver; for she makes curtains of silk and sells them for fifty dinars each; and it takes her eight days to make a curtain.' 'Happy the man,' exclaimed the broker, 'who hath her in his house and maketh her of his privy treasures!' And her owner said, 'Sell her to whom she will.' So the broker went up to Ali Shar and kissing his hands, said to him, 'O my lord, buy thou this damsel, for she hath made choice of thee.' Then he set forth to him all her charms and accomplishments, and added: 'I give thee joy, if thou buy her, for she is a gift from Him who is no niggard of His giving.'

Ali bowed his head awhile, laughing to himself and saying inwardly, 'Up to now I have not broken my fast; yet I am ashamed to own before the merchants that I have no money wherewith to buy her.' The damsel, seeing him hang down his head, said to the broker, 'Take my hand and lead me to him, that I may show myself to him and tempt him to buy me; for I will not be sold to any but him.' So the broker took her hand and stationed her before Ali Shar, saying, 'What is thy pleasure, O my lord?' But he made him no answer, and the girl said to him, 'O my lord and darling of my heart, what ails thee that thou wilt not bid for me? Buy me for what thou wilt, and I will bring thee good fortune.' Ali raised his eyes to her and said, 'Must I buy thee perforce? Thou art dear at one thousand dinars.' 'Then buy me for nine hundred,' answered she. 'Nay,' rejoined he; and she said, 'Then for eight hundred;' and ceased not to abate the price, till she came to a hundred dinars. Quoth he, 'I have not quite a hundred dinars.' 'How much dost thou lack of a hundred?' asked she, laughing. 'By Allah,' replied he, 'I have neither a hundred dinars, nor any other sum; for I own neither white money nor red, neither dinar nor dirhem. So look out for another customer.' When she knew that he had nothing, she said to him, 'Take me by the hand and carry me aside into a passage, as if thou wouldst examine me privily.' He did so and she took from her bosom a purse containing a thousand dinars, which she gave him saying, 'Pay down nine hundred to my price and keep the rest to provide us withal.'

He did as she bade him and buying her for nine hundred dinars, paid down the price from the purse and carried her to his house, which when she entered, she found nothing but bare floors, without carpets or vessels. So she gave him other thousand dinars, saying, 'Go to the bazaar and buy three hundred dinars' worth of furniture and vessels for the house and three dinars' worth of meat and drink, also a piece of silk, the size of a curtain, and gold and silver thread and [sewing] silk of seven colours.' He did her bidding, and she furnished the house and they sat down to eat and drink; after which they went to bed and took their pleasure, one of the other. And they lay the night embraced and were even as saith the poet:

Cleave fast to her thou lov'st and let the envious rail amain;
     For calumny and envy ne'er to favour love were fain.
Lo, whilst I slept, in dreams I saw thee lying by my side And
     from thy lips the sweetest, sure, of limpid springs did
     drain.
Yea, true and certain all I saw is, as I will avouch, And 'spite
     the envier, thereto I surely will attain.
There is no goodlier sight, indeed, for eyes to look upon, Than
     when one couch in its embrace enfoldeth lovers twain,
Each to the other's bosom clasped, clad in their twinned delight,
     Whilst hand with hand and arm with arm about their necks
     enchain.
Lo, when two hearts are straitly knit in passion and desire, But
     on cold iron smite the folk who chide at them in vain.
Thou, that for loving censurest the votaries of love, Canst thou
     assain a heart diseased or heal a cankered brain?
If in thy time thou find but one to love thee and be true, I rede
     thee cast the world away and with that one remain.

They lay together till the morning and love for the other was stablished in the heart of each of them. On the morrow, Zumurrud took the curtain and embroidered it with coloured silks and gold and silver thread, depicting thereon all manner birds and beasts; nor is there in the world a beast but she wrought on the curtain the semblant thereof. Moreover, she made thereto a band, with figures of birds, and wrought at it eight days, till she had made an end of it, when she trimmed it and ironed it and gave it to Ali, saying, 'Carry it to the bazaar and sell it to one of the merchants for fifty dinars; but beware lest thou sell it to a passer-by, for this would bring about a separation between us, because we have enemies who are not unmindful of us.' 'I hear and obey,' answered he and repairing to the bazaar, sold the curtain to a merchant, as she bade him; after which he bought stuff for another curtain and silk and gold and silver thread as before and what they needed of food, and brought all this to her, together with the rest of the money.

They abode thus a whole year, and every eight days she made a curtain, which he sold for fifty dinars. At the end of the year, he went to the bazaar, as usual, with a curtain, which he gave to the broker; and there came up to him a Christian, who bid him threescore dinars for the curtain; but he refused, and the Christian went on to bid higher and higher, till he came to a hundred dinars and bribed the broker with ten gold pieces. So the latter returned to Ali and told him of this and urged him to accept the offer, saying, 'O my lord, be not afraid of this Christian, for he can do thee no hurt.' The merchants also were instant with him to accept the offer; so he sold the curtain to the Christian, though his heart misgave him, and taking the price, set off to return home.

Presently, he found the Christian walking behind him; so he said to him, 'O Nazarene, why dost thou follow me?' 'O my lord,' answered the other, 'I have a need at the end of the street, may God never bring thee to need!' Ali went on, but, as he came to the door of his house, the Christian overtook him; so he said to him, 'O accursed one, what ails thee to follow me wherever I go?' 'O my lord,' replied the other, 'give me a draught of water, for I am athirst; and with God the Most High be thy reward!' Quoth Ali in himself, 'Verily, this man is a tributary [of the Khalifate] and seeks a draught of water of me; by Allah, I will not disappoint him!' So he entered the house and took a mug of water; but Zumurrud saw him and said to him, 'O my love, hast thou sold the curtain?' 'Yes,' answered he. 'To a merchant or a passer-by?' asked she. 'For my heart forethinketh me of separation.' 'To a merchant, of course,' replied he. But she rejoined, 'Tell me the truth of the case, that I may order my affair; and what wantest thou with the mug of water?' 'To give the broker a drink,' answered he; whereupon she exclaimed, 'There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme!' And repeated the following verses:

O thou that seekest parting, stay thy feet: Let clips and kisses
     not delude thy spright.
Softly, for fortune's nature is deceit And parting is the end of
     love-delight.

Then he took the mug and going out, found the Christian within the vestibule and said to him, 'O dog, how darest thou enter my house without my leave?' 'O my lord,' answered he, 'there is no difference between the door and the vestibule and I will not budge hence, save to go out; and I am beholden to thee for thy kindness.' Then he took the mug and emptying it, returned it to Ali, who took it and waited for him to go; but he did not move. So Ali said to him, 'Why dost thou not rise and go thy way?' 'O my lord,' answered the Christian, 'be not of those that do a kindness and after make a reproach of it, nor one of whom saith the poet:

Gone, gone are they who, if thou stoodst before their door of
     old, Had, at thy seeking, handselled thee with benefits
     untold!
And if thou stoodest at their door who follow after them, These
     latter would begrudge to thee a draught of water cold.

O my lord,' continued he, 'I have drunk, and now I would have thee give me to eat of whatever is in the house, though it be but a crust of bread or a biscuit and an onion.' 'Begone, without more talk,' replied Ali; 'There is nothing in the house.' 'O my lord,' insisted the Christian, 'if there be nothing in the house, take these hundred dinars and fetch us somewhat from the market, if but a cake of bread, that bread and salt may pass between us.' With this, quoth Ali to himself, 'This Christian is surely mad; I will take the hundred dinars and bring somewhat worth a couple of dirhems and laugh at him.' 'O my lord,' added the Christian, 'I want but somewhat to stay my hunger, were it but a cake of dry bread and an onion; for the best food is that which does away hunger, not rich meats; and how well saith the poet:

A cake of dry stale bread will hunger out to flight: Why then are
     grief and care so heavy on my spright?
Death is, indeed, most just, since, with an equal hand, Khalif
     and beggar-wretch, impartial, it doth smite.'

Then said Ali, 'Wait here, whilst I lock the saloon and fetch thee somewhat from the market.' 'I hear and obey,' said the Christian. So Ali shut up the saloon and locking the door with a padlock, put the key in his pocket: after which he repaired to the market and bought fried cheese and virgin honey and bananas and bread, with which he returned to the Christian. When the latter saw this, he said, 'O my lord, this is [too] much; thou hast brought enough for half a score men and I am alone; but belike thou wilt eat with me.' 'Eat by thyself,' replied Ali; 'I am full.' 'O my lord,' rejoined the Christian, 'the wise say, "He who eats not with his guest is a base-born churl."'

When Ali heard this, he sat down and ate a little with him, after which he would have held his hand: but [whilst he was not looking] the Christian took a banana and peeled it, then, splitting it in twain, put into one half concentrated henbane, mixed with opium, a drachm whereof would overthrow an elephant. This half he dipped in the honey and gave to Ali Shar, saying, 'O my lord, I swear by thy religion that thou shalt take this.' Ali was ashamed to make him forsworn; so he took the half banana and swallowed it; but hardly had it reached his stomach, when his head fell down in front of his feet and he was as though he had been a year asleep.

When the Nazarene saw this, he rose, as he had been a bald wolf or a baited cat, and taking the saloon key, made off at a run, leaving Ali Shar prostrate. Now this Christian was the brother of the decrepit old man who thought to buy Zumurrud for a thousand dinars, but she would have none of him and flouted him in verse. He was an infidel at heart, though a Muslim in outward show, and called himself Reshideddin;[FN#18] and when Zumurrud mocked him and would not accept of him to her lord, he complained to his brother, the aforesaid Christian, Bersoum by name, who said to him, 'Fret not thyself about this affair; for I will make shift to get her for thee, without paying a penny.'

Now he was a skilful sorcerer crafty and wicked; so he watched his time and played Ali Shar the trick aforesaid; then, taking the key, he went to his brother and told him what had passed, whereupon Reshideddin mounted his mule and repaired with his servants to Ali Shar's house, taking with him a purse of a thousand dinars, wherewith to bribe the master of police, should he meet him. He unlocked the saloon door, and the men who were with him rushed in upon Zumurrud and seized her, threatening her with death if she spoke; but they left the house as it was and took nothing therefrom. Moreover, they laid the key by Ali's side and leaving him lying in the vestibule, shut the door on him and went away. The Christian carried the girl to his own house and setting her amongst his women and concubines, said to her, 'O strumpet, I am the old man, whom thou did reject and lampoon; but now I have thee, without paying a penny.' 'God requite thee, O wicked old man,' replied she, with her eyes full of tears, 'for sundering my lord and me!' 'Wanton doxy that thou art,' rejoined he,' thou shalt see how I will punish thee! By the virtue of the Messiah and the Virgin, except thou obey me and embrace my faith, I will torture thee with all manner of torture!' 'By Allah,' answered she, 'though thou cut me in pieces, I will not forswear the faith of Islam! It may be God the Most High will bring me speedy relief, for He is all-powerful, and the wise say, "Better hurt in body than in religion."'

Thereupon the old man called out to his eunuchs and women, saying, 'Throw her down!' So they threw her down and he beat her grievously, whilst she cried in vain for help, but presently stinted and fell to saying, 'God is my sufficiency, and He is indeed sufficient!' till her breath failed her and she swooned away. When he had taken his fill of beating her, he said to the eunuchs, 'Drag her forth by the feet and cast her down in the kitchen, and give her nothing to eat.' They did his bidding, and on the morrow the accursed old man sent for her and beat her again, after which he bade return her to her place. When the pain of the blows had subsided, she said, 'There is no god but God and Mohammed is His Apostle! God is my sufficiency and excellent is He in whom I put my trust!' And she called upon our lord Mohammed (whom God bless and preserve) for succour.

Meanwhile, Ali Shar slept on till next day, when the fumes of the henbane quitted his brain and he awoke and cried out, 'O Zumurrud!' But none answered him. So he entered the saloon and found 'the air empty and the place of visitation distant;'[FN#19] whereby he knew that it was the Nazarene, who had played him this trick. And he wept and groaned and lamented and repeated the following verses:

O Fate, thou sparest not nor dost desist from me: Lo, for my soul
     is racked with dolour and despite!
Have pity, O my lords, upon a slave laid low, Upon the rich made
     poor by love and its unright.
What boots the archer's skill, if, when the foe draw near, His
     bowstring snap and leave him helpless in the fight?
And when afflictions press and multiply on man, Ah, whither then
     shall he from destiny take flight?
How straitly did I guard 'gainst severance of our loves! But,
     when as Fate descends, it blinds the keenest sight.

Then he sobbed and repeated these verses also:

Her traces on the encampment's sands a robe of grace bestow: The
     mourner yearneth to the place where she dwelt whiles ago.
Towards her native land she turns; a camp in her doth raise
     Longing, whose very ruins now are scattered to and fro.
She stops and questions of the place; but with the case's tongue
     It answers her, "There is no way to union, I trow.
'Tis as the lost a Levin were, that glittered on the camp Awhile,
     then vanished and to thee appeareth nevermo'."

And he repented, whenas repentance availed him not, and wept and tore his clothes. Then he took two stones and went round the city, beating his breast with the stones and crying out, 'O Zumurrud!' whilst the children flocked round him, calling out, 'A madman! A madman!' and all who knew him wept for him, saying, 'Yonder is such an one: what hath befallen him?' This he did all that day, and when night darkened on him, he lay down in one of the by-streets and slept till morning. On the morrow, he went round about the city with the stones till eventide, when he returned to his house, to pass the night. One of his neighbours, a worthy old woman, saw him and said to him, 'God keep thee, O my son! How long hast thou been mad?' And he answered her with the following verse:

Quoth they, "Thou'rt surely mad for her thou lov'st;" and I
     replied, "Indeed the sweets of life belong unto the raving
     race.
My madness leave and bring me her for whom ye say I'm mad; And if
     she heal my madness, spare to blame me for my case."

Therewith she knew him for a lover who had lost his mistress and said, 'There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme! O my son, I would have thee acquaint me with the particulars of thine affliction. Peradventure God may enable me to help thee against it, if it so please Him.' So he told her all that had happened and she said, 'O my son, indeed thou hast excuse.' And her eyes ran over with tears and she repeated the following verses:

Torment, indeed, in this our world, true lovers do aby; Hell
     shall not torture them, by God, whenas they come to die!
Of love they died and to the past their passions chastely hid; So
     are they martyrs, as, indeed, traditions[FN#20] testify.

Then she said, 'O my son, go now and buy me a basket, such as the jewel-hawkers carry, and stock it with rings and bracelets and ear-rings and other women's gear, and spare not money. Bring all this to me and I will set it on my head and go round about, in the guise of a huckstress, and make search for her in all the houses, till I light on news of her, if it be the will of God the Most High.' Ali rejoiced in her words and kissed her hands, then, going out, speedily returned with all she required; whereupon she rose and donning a patched gown and a yellow veil, took a staff in her hand and set out, with the basket on her head.

She ceased not to go from quarter to quarter and street to street and house to house, till God the Most High led her to the house of the accursed Reshideddin the Nazarene. She heard groans within and knocked at the door, whereupon a slave-girl came down and opening the door to her, saluted her. Quoth the old woman, 'I have these trifles for sale: is there any one with you who will buy aught of them?' 'Yes,' answered the girl and carrying her indoors, made her sit down; whereupon all the women came round her and each bought something of her. She spoke to them fair and was easy with them as to price, so that they rejoiced in her, because of her pleasant speech and easiness. Meanwhile, she looked about to see who it was she had heard groaning, till her eyes fell on Zumurrud, when she knew her and saw that she was laid prostrate. So she wept and said to the girls, 'O my children, how comes yonder damsel in this plight?' And they told her what had passed, adding, 'Indeed, the thing is not of our choice; but our master commanded us to do this, and he is now absent on a journey.' 'O my children,' said the old woman, 'I have a request to make of you, and it is that you loose this unhappy woman of her bonds, till you know of your lord's return, when do ye bind her again as she was; and you shall earn a reward from the Lord of all creatures.' 'We hear and obey,' answered they and loosing Zumurrud, gave her to eat and drink.

Then said the old woman, 'Would my leg had been broken, ere I entered your house!' And she went up to Zumurrud and said to her, 'O my daughter, take heart; God will surely bring thee relief.' Then she told her [privily] that she came from her lord Ali Shar and appointed her to be on the watch that night, saying, 'Thy lord will come to the bench under the gallery and whistle to thee; and when thou hearest him, do thou whistle back to him and let thyself down to him by a rope from the window, and he will take thee and go away.' Zumurrud thanked the old woman, and the latter returned to Ali Shar and told him what she had done, saying, 'Go to-night, at midnight, to such a quarter,—for the accursed fellow's house is there and its fashion is thus and thus. Stand under the window of the upper chamber and whistle; whereupon she will let herself down to thee; then do thou take her and carry her whither thou wilt.' He thanked her for her good offices and repeated the following verses, with the tears running down his cheeks:

Let censors cease to rail and chide and leave their idle prate:
     My body's wasted and my heart weary and desolate;
And from desertion and distress my tears, by many a chain Of true
     traditions handed down, do trace their lineage straight.
Thou that art whole of heart and free from that which I endure Of
     grief and care, cut short thy strife nor question of my
     state.
A sweet-lipped maiden, soft of sides and moulded well of shape,
     With her soft speech my heart hath ta'en, ay, and her
     graceful gait.
My heart, since thou art gone, no rest knows nor my eyes do
     sleep, Nor can the hunger of my hopes itself with patience
     sate.
Yea, thou hast left me sorrowful, the hostage of desire, 'Twixt
     enviers and haters dazed and all disconsolate.
As for forgetting, 'tis a thing I know not nor will know; For
     none but thou into my thought shalt enter, soon or late.

Then he sighed and shed tears and repeated these also:

May God be good to him who brought me news that ye were come! For
     never more delightful news unto my ears was borne.
If he would take a worn-out wede for boon, I'd proffer him A
     heart that at the parting hour was all in pieces torn.

He waited until the appointed time, then went to the street, where was the Christian's house, and recognizing it from the old woman's description, sat down on the bench under the gallery. Presently, drowsiness overcame him, for it was long since he had slept, for the violence of his passion, and he became as one drunken with sleep. Glory be to Him who sleepeth not!

Meanwhile, chance led thither a certain thief, who had come out that night to steal somewhat and prowled about the skirts of the city, till he happened on Reshideddin's house. He went round about it, but found no way of climbing up into it and presently came to the bench, where he found Ali Shar asleep and took his turban. At that moment, Zumurrud looked out and seeing the thief standing in the darkness, took him for her lord; so she whistled to him and he whistled back to her; whereupon she let herself down to him, with a pair of saddle-bags full of gold. When the robber saw this, he said to himself, 'This is a strange thing, and there must needs be some extraordinary cause to it.' Then, snatching up the saddle-bags, he took Zumurrud on his shoulders and made off with both like the blinding lightning.

Quoth she, 'The old woman told me that thou wast weak with illness on my account; and behold, thou art stronger than a horse.' He made her no reply; so she put her hand to his face and felt a beard like a bath-broom,[FN#21] as he were a hog that had swallowed feathers and they had come out at his gullet; whereat she took fright and said to him, 'What art thou?' 'O strumpet,' answered he, 'I am the sharper Jewan the Kurd, of the band of Ahmed ed Denef; we are forty sharpers, who will all tilt at thy tail this night, from dusk to dawn.' When she heard his words, she wept and buffeted her face, knowing that Fate had gotten the better of her and that there was nothing for it but to put her trust in God the Most High. So she took patience and submitted herself to the ordinance of God, saying, 'There is no god but God! As often as we escape from one trouble, we fall into a worse.'

Now the manner of Jewan's coming thither was thus: he had said to Ahmed ed Denef, 'O captain, I have been here before and know a cavern without the town, that will hold forty souls; so I will go before you thither and set my mother therein. Then will I enter the city and steal somewhat on your account and keep it till you come; so shall you be my guests this day.' 'Do what thou wilt,' replied Ahmed. So Jewan forewent them to the cavern and left his mother there; but, as he came out, he found a trooper lying asleep, with his horse tethered beside him; so he slew him and taking his clothes and arms, hid them with his mother in the cave, where also he tied up the horse. Then he betook himself to the city and prowled about, till he happened on the Christian's house and did with Ali Shar and Zumurrud as we have said. He ceased not to run, with Zumurrud on his back, till he came to the cavern, where he gave her in charge of his mother, saying, 'Keep watch over her till I come back to thee at point of day,' and went away.

Meanwhile Zumurrud said to herself, 'Now is the time to cast about for a means of escape. If I wait till these forty men come, they will take their turns at me, till they make me like a water- logged ship.' Then she turned to the old woman and said to her, 'O my aunt, wilt thou not come without the cave, that I may louse thee in the sun?' 'Ay, by Allah, O my daughter!' replied the old woman. 'This long time have I been out of reach of the bath; for these hogs cease not to hale me from place to place.' So they went without the cavern, and Zumurrud combed out the old woman's hair and killed the vermin in her head, till this soothed her and she fell asleep; whereupon Zumurrud arose and donning the clothes of the murdered trooper, girt herself with his sword and covered her head with his turban, so that she became as she were a man. Then she took the saddle-bags full of gold and mounted the horse, saying in herself, 'O kind Protector, I adjure thee by the glory of Mohammed, (whom God bless and preserve,) protect me! If I enter the city, belike one of the trooper's folk will see me, and no good will befall me.' So she turned her back on the city and rode forth into the desert.

She fared on ten days, eating of the fruits of the earth and drinking of its waters, she and her horse; and on the eleventh day, she came in sight of a pleasant and safe city, stablished in good; the season of winter had departed from it with its cold and the spring-tide came to it with its roses and orange-blossoms; its flowers blew bright, its streams welled forth and its birds warbled. As she drew near, she saw the troops and Amirs and notables of the place drawn up before the gate, at which she marvelled and said to herself, 'The people of the city are all collected at the gate: there must needs be a reason for this.' Then she made towards them; but, as she drew near, the troops hastened forward to meet her and dismounting, kissed the ground before her and said, 'God aid thee, O our lord the Sultan!'

Then the grandees ranked themselves before her, whilst the troops ranged the people in order, saying, 'God aid thee and make thy coming a blessing to the Muslims, O Sultan of all men! God stablish thee, O king of the age and pearl of the day and the time!' 'What ails you, O people of the city?' asked Zumurrud; and the chamberlain answered, 'Verily, He who is no niggard in giving hath been bountiful to thee and hath made thee Sultan of this city and ruler over the necks of all that are therein; for know that it is the custom of the citizens, when their king dies, leaving no son, that the troops should sally forth of the pace and abide there three days; and whoever cometh from the quarter whence thou hast come, they make him king over them. So praised be God who hath sent us a well-favoured man of the sons of the Turks; for had a lesser than thou presented himself, he had been Sultan.'

Now Zumurrud was well-advised in all she did; so she said, 'Think not that I am of the common folk of the Turks; nay, I am a man of condition; but I was wroth with my family, so I went forth and left them. See these saddle-bags full of gold I brought with me, that I might give alms thereof to the poor and needy by the way.' So they called down blessings upon her and rejoiced in her with an exceeding joy and she also rejoiced in them and said in herself, 'Now that I have attained to this estate, it may be God will reunite me with my lord in this place, for He can do what He will.' Then the troops escorted her to the city and dismounting, walked before her to the palace. Here she alighted and the Amirs and grandees, taking her under the armpits, carried her into the palace and seated her on the throne; after which they all kissed the ground before her. Then she bade open the treasuries and gave largesse to the troops, who offered up prayers for the continuance of her reign, and all the townsfolk and the people of the kingdom accepted her rule.

She abode thus awhile, ordering and forbidding, and remitted taxes and released prisoners and redressed grievances, so that all the people came to hold her in exceeding reverence and to love her, by reason of her generosity and continence; but, as often as she bethought her of her lord, she wept and besought God to reunite them; and one night, as she was thinking of him and calling to mind the days she had passed with him, her eyes ran over with tears and she repeated the following verses:

My longing, 'spite of time, for thee is ever new; My weeping
     wounds my lids and tears on tears ensue.
Whenas I weep, I weep for anguish of desire; For grievous
     severance is a lover's heart unto.

Then she wiped away her tears and rising, betook herself to the harem, where she appointed to the slave-girls and concubines separate lodgings and assigned them pensions and allowances, giving out that she was minded to live apart and devote herself to works of piety. So she betook herself to fasting and praying, till the Amirs said, 'Verily, this Sultan is exceeding devout.' Nor would she suffer any attendants about her, save two little eunuchs, to serve her.

She held the throne thus a whole year, during which time she heard no news of Ali Shar, and this was exceeding grievous to her; so, when her distress became excessive, she summoned her Viziers and chamberlains and bid them fetch architects and builders and make her a tilting ground, a parasang long and the like broad, in front of the palace. They hastened to do her bidding, and when the place was competed to her liking, she went down into it and they pitched her there a great pavilion, wherein the chairs of the Amirs were set in their order. Then she bade spread in the tilting-ground tables with all manner rich meats and ordered the grandees to eat. So they ate and she said to them, 'It is my will that, on the first day of each month, ye do on this wise and proclaim in the city that none shall open his shop, but that all the people shall come and eat of the king's banquet, and that whoso disobeyeth shall be hanged over his own door.'

They did as she bade them, and when came the first day of the next month, Zumurrud went down into the tilting-ground and the crier proclaimed aloud, saying, 'Ho, all ye people, great and small, whoso openeth shop or house or magazine shall straightway be hanged over his own door; for it behoves you all to come and eat of the king's banquet.' Then they laid the tables and the people came in troops; so she bade them sit down at the tables and eat their fill of all the dishes. So they sat down and she sat on her chair of estate, watching them, whilst each thought she was looking at none but him. Then they fell to eating and the Amirs said to them, 'Eat and be not ashamed; for this is pleasing to the King.' So they ate their fill and went away, blessing the King and saying, one to the other, 'Never saw we a Sultan that loved the poor as doth this Sultan.' And they wished her length of life, whilst Zumurrud returned to the palace, rejoicing in her device and saying in herself, 'If it please God the Most High, I shall surely by this means happen on news of my lord Ali Shar.'

When the first day of the second month came round, she made the banquet as before and the folk came and sat down at the tables, company by company and one by one. As she sat on her throne, at the head of the tables, watching the people eat, her eye fell on Bersoum, the Nazarene who had bought the curtain of Ali Shar; and she knew him and said in herself, 'This is the first of my solace and of the accomplishment of my desire.' Bersoum came up to the table and sitting down with the rest to eat, espied a dish of sweet rice, sprinkled with sugar; but it was far from him. So he pushed up to it and putting out his hand to it, took it and set it before himself. His next neighbour said to him, 'Why dost thou not eat of what is before thee? Art thou not ashamed to reach over for a dish that is distant from thee?' Quoth Bersoum, 'I will eat of none but this dish.' 'Eat then,' rejoined the other, 'and small good may it do thee!' But another man, a hashish- eater, said, 'Let him eat of it, that I may eat with him.' 'O unluckiest of hashish-eaters,' replied the first speaker, 'this is no meat for thee; it is eating for Amirs. Let it be, that it may return to those for whom it is meant and they eat it.'

But Bersoum heeded him not and putting his hand to the rice, took a mouthful and put it in his mouth. He was about to take a second mouthful, when Zumurrud, who was watching him, cried out to certain of her guards, saying, 'Bring me yonder man with the dish of sweet rice before him and let him not eat the mouthful he hath ready, but throw it from his hand.' So four of the guards went up to Bersoum and throwing the mouthful of rice from his hand, haled him forthright before Zumurrud, whilst all the people left eating and said to one another, 'By Allah, he did wrong in not eating of the food meant for the like of him.' 'For me,' quoth one, 'I was content with this frumenty that is before me.' And the hashish- eater said, 'Praised be God who hindered me from eating of the dish of sweet rice, for I looked for it to stand before him and was only waiting for him to have stayed his hunger of it, to eat with him, when there befell him what we see.' And they said, one to another, 'Wait till we see what befalls him.'

Then said Zumurrud to Bersoum, 'Out on thee, O blue eyes! What is thy name and why comest thou hither?' But the accursed fellow miscalled himself, having a white turban,[FN#22] and answered, 'O King, my name is Ali; I am a weaver and came hither to trade.' 'Bring me a table of sand and a pen of brass,' quoth Zumurrud, and they brought her what she sought. She levelled the sand and taking the pen, drew a geomantic figure, in the likeness of an ape; then, raising her head, she considered Bersoum straitly and said to him, 'O dog, how darest thou lie to kings? Art thou not a Nazarene, Bersoum by name, and comest thou not hither in quest of somewhat? Speak the truth, or, by the splendour of the Deity, I will strike off thy head?' At this, Bersoum was confounded and the Amirs and bystanders said, 'Verily, the King understands geomancy: blessed be He who hath gifted him!' Then Zumurrud cried out upon Bersoum and said, 'Tell me the truth, or I will make an end of thee!' 'Pardon, O King of the age,' replied Bersoum; 'the table hath told thee aright; thy slave is indeed a Nazarene.' Whereupon all present wondered at the King's skill in geomancy, saying, 'Verily, the King is a diviner, whose like there is not in the world.'

Then Zumurrud bade flay the Christian and stuff his skin with straw and hang it over the gate of the tilting-ground. Moreover, she commanded to dig a pit without the city and burn his flesh and bones therein and throw over his ashes offal and rubbish. 'We hear and obey,' answered they and did with him as she bade. When the people saw what had befallen the Christian, they said, 'He hath his deserts; but what an unlucky mouthful was that for him!' And another said, 'Be my wife triply divorced if ever I eat of sweet rice as long as I live!' 'Praised be God,' quoth the hashish-eater, 'who saved me from this fellow's fate by hindering me from eating of the rice!' Then they all went out, minded thenceforth to leave sitting in the Christian's place, over against the dish of sweet rice.

When the first day of the third month came, they laid the tables as of wont, and Queen Zumurrud came down and sat on her throne, with her guards in attendance on her, fearing her danger. Then the townsfolk entered, as usual, and went round about the tables, looking for the place of the dish of sweet rice, and quoth one to another, 'Hark ye, Hajji Khelef!' 'At thy service, O Hajji Khalid,' answered the other. 'Avoid the dish of sweet rice,' said Khalid, 'and look thou eat not thereof; for if thou do, thou wilt be hanged.' Then they sat down to meat; and as they were eating, Zumurrud chanced to look at the gate of the tilting-ground and saw a man come running in. So she considered him and knew him for Jewan the Kurd.

Now the manner of his coming was on this wise. When he left his mother, he went to his comrades and said to them, 'I had fine purchase yesterday; for I slew a trooper and took his horse. Moreover there fell to me last night a pair of saddle-bags, full of gold, and a girl worth more than the money; and I have left them all with my mother in the cave.' At this they rejoiced and repaired to the cavern at nightfall, whilst they forewent them, that he might fetch them the booty. But he found the place empty and questioned his mother, who told him what had befallen; whereupon he bit his hands for despite and exclaimed, 'By Allah, I will make search for yonder harlot and take her, wherever she is, though it be in the shell of a pistachio-nut, and quench my malice on her!' So he went forth in quest of her and journeyed from place to place, till he came to Queen Zumurrud's city. He found the town deserted and enquiring of some women whom he saw looking from the windows, learnt that it was the Sultan's custom to make a banquet for all the people on the first of each month and was directed to the tilting-ground, where the feast was spread.

So he came running in and finding no place empty, save that before the dish of sweet rice, took his seat there and put out his hand to the dish; whereupon the folk cried out to him, saying, 'O brother, what wilt thou do?' Quoth he, 'I mean to eat my fill of this dish.' 'If thou eat of it,' rejoined one of the people, 'thou wilt assuredly be hanged.' But Jewan said, 'Hold thy peace and talk not thus.' Then he stretched out his hand to the dish aforesaid and drew it to him.

Now the hashish-eater, of whom we have before spoken, was sitting by him; but when he saw him do this, the fumes of the hashish left his head and he fled from his place and sat down afar off, saying, 'I will have nothing to do with yonder dish.' Then Jewan put out his hand, as it were a crow's foot, and dipping it in the dish, scooped up therewith half the dishful and drew it out, as it were a camel's hoof, and the bottom of the dish appeared. He rolled the rice in his hand, till it was like a great orange, and threw it ravenously into his mouth; and it rolled down his gullet, with a noise like thunder. 'Praised by God,' quoth his neighbour, 'who hath not made me meat before thee; for thou hast emptied the dish at one mouthful.' 'Let him eat,' said the hashish-eater; 'methinks he hath a gallows-face.' Then, turning to Jewan, 'Eat,' added he, 'and small good may it do thee!'

Jewan put out his hand again and taking another mouthful, was rolling it in his hands like the first, when Zumurrud cried out to the guards, saying, 'Bring me yonder man in haste and let him not eat the mouthful in his hand.' So they ran and seizing him, as he bent over the dish, brought him to her, whilst the people exulted over him and said, one to the other, 'He hath his deserts, for we warned him, but he would not take warning. Verily, this place is fated to be the death of whoso sits therein, and yonder rice is fatal to all who eat of it.'

Then said Zumurrud to Jewan, 'What is thy name and condition and why comest thou hither?' 'O our lord the Sultan,' answered he, 'my name is Othman; I am a gardener and am come hither in quest of somewhat I have lost.' 'Bring me a table of sand,' said Zumurrud. So they brought it, and she took the pen and drawing a geomantic figure, considered it awhile, then raising her head, exclaimed, 'Out on thee, thou sorry knave! How darest thou lie to kings? This sand tells me that thy name is Jewan the Kurd and that thou art by trade a robber, taking men's goods in the way of unright and slaying those whom God hath forbidden to slay, save for just cause.' And she cried out upon him, saying, 'O hog, tell me the truth of thy case or I will cut off thy head!'

When he heard this, he turned pale and his teeth chattered; then, deeming that he might save himself by telling the truth, he replied, 'O King, thou sayest sooth; but I repent at thy hands henceforth and turn to God the Most High!' Quoth she, 'I may not leave a pest in the way of the true-believers.' And she said to her guards, 'Take him and flay him and do with him as ye did by his like last month.' And they did her commandment. When the hashish-eater saw this, he turned his back upon the dish of rice, saying, 'It is unlawful to present my face to thee.' Then, when they had made an end of eating, they dispersed and Zumurrud returned to her palace and dismissed her attendants.

When the fourth month came round, they made the banquet, as of wont, and the folk sat awaiting leave to begin. Presently Zumurrud entered and sitting down on her throne, looked at the tables and saw that room for four people was left void before the dish of rice, at which she wondered. As she sat, looking around, she saw a man come running in at the gate, who stayed not till he reached the tables and finding no room, save before the dish of rice, took his seat there. She looked at him and knowing him for the accursed Christian, who called himself Reshideddin, said in herself, 'How blessed is this device of the food, into whose toils this infidel hath fallen!'

Now the manner of his coming was extraordinary, and it was on this wise. When he returned from his journey, the people of the house told him that Zumurrud was missing and with her a pair of saddle-bags full of gold; whereupon he rent his clothes and buffeted his face and plucked out his beard. Then he despatched his brother Bersoum in quest of her, and when he was weary of awaiting news of him, he went forth himself, to seek for him and for Zumurrud, and fate led him to the latter's city. He entered it on the first day of the month and finding the streets deserted and the shops shut, enquired of the women at the windows, who told him that the King made a banquet on the first of each month for the people, all of whom were bound to attend it, nor might any abide in his house or shop that day; and they directed him to the tilting-ground.

So he betook himself thither and sitting down before the rice, put out his hand to eat thereof, whereupon Zumurrud cried out to her guards, saying, 'Bring me him who sits before the dish of rice.' So they laid hands on him and brought him before Queen Zumurrud, who said to him, 'Out on thee! What is thy name and occupation, and what brings thee hither?' 'O King of the age,' answered he, 'my name is Rustem and I have no occupation, for I am a poor dervish.' Then said she to her attendants, 'Bring me a table of sand and pen of brass.' So they brought her what she sought, as usual; and she took the pen and drawing a geomantic figure, considered it awhile, then raising her head to Reshideddin, said, 'O dog, how darest thou lie to kings? Thy name is Reshideddin the Nazarene; thou art outwardly a Muslim, but a Christian at heart, and thine occupation is to lay snares for the slave-girls of the Muslims and take them. Speak the truth, or I will smite off thy head.' He hesitated and stammered, then replied, 'Thou sayest sooth, O King of the age!' Whereupon she commanded to throw him down and give him a hundred blows on each sole and a thousand on his body; after which she bade flay him and stuff his skin with hards of flax and dig a pit without the city, wherein they should burn his body and cast dirt and rubbish on his ashes. They did as she bade them and she gave the people leave to eat.

So they ate their fill and went their ways, whilst Zumurrud returned to her palace, thanking God for that He had solaced her heart of those who had wronged her. Then she praised the Creator of heaven and earth and repeated the following verses:

Lo, these erst had power and used it with oppression and unright!
     In a little, their dominion was as it ne'er had been.
Had they used their power with justice, they had been repaid the
     like; But they wrought unright and Fortune guerdoned them
     with dole and teen.
So they perished and the moral of the case bespeaks them thus,
     "This is what your crimes have earnt you: Fate is not to
     blame, I ween."

Then she called to mind her lord Ali Shar and wept, but presently recovered herself and said, 'Surely God, who hath given mine enemies into my hand, will vouchsafe me speedy reunion with my beloved; for He can do what He will and is generous to His servants and mindful of their case!' Then she praised God (to whom belong might and majesty) and besought forgiveness of Him, submitting herself to the course of destiny, assured that to each beginning there is an end, and repeating the saying of the poet:

Be at thine ease, for all things' destiny Is in His hands who
     fashioned earth and sea.
Nothing of Him forbidden shall befall Nor aught of Him appointed
     fail to thee.

And what another saith:

Let the days pass, as they list, and fare, And enter thou not the
     house of despair.
Full oft, when the quest of a thing is hard, The next hour brings
     us the end of our care.

And a third:

Be mild what time thou'rt ta'en with anger and despite And
     patient, if there fall misfortune on thy head.
Indeed, the nights are quick and great with child by Time And of
     all wondrous things are hourly brought to bed.

And a fourth:

Take patience, for therein is good; an thou be learn'd in it,
     Thou shalt be calm of soul nor drink of anguish any whit.
And know that if, with a good grace, thou do not thee submit, Yet
     must thou suffer, will or nill, that which the Pen hath
     writ.

She abode thus another whole month's space, judging the folk and commanding and forbidding by day, and by night weeping and bewailing her separation from her lord Ali Shar. On the first day of the fifth month, she bade spread the banquet as usual and sat down at the head of the tables, whilst the people awaited the signal to fall to, leaving the space before the dish of rice vacant. She sat with eyes fixed upon the gate of the tilting- ground, noting all who entered and saying, 'O Thou that restoredst Joseph to Jacob and didst away the affliction of Job, vouchsafe of Thy power and greatness to restore me my lord Ali Shar; for Thou canst all things! O Lord of all creatures, O Guide of the erring, O Hearer of those that cry, O Answerer of prayer, answer Thou my prayer, O Lord of all creatures!'

Hardly had she made an end of her prayer, when she saw entering the gate a young man, in shape like the willow wand, the comeliest and most accomplished of youths, save that his face was sallow and his form wasted. He came up to the tables and finding no seat vacant save before the dish of rice, sat down there; whereupon Zumurrud's heart fluttered and observing him narrowly, she knew him for her lord Ali Shar and was like to have cried out for joy, but restrained herself, fearing disgrace before the folk. Her bowels were troubled and her heart throbbed; but she concealed that which she suffered.

Now the manner of his coming thither was on this wise. When he awoke and found himself lying on the bench outside the Christian's house, with his head bare, he knew that some one had come upon him and robbed him of his turban, whilst he slept. So he spoke the word, which whoso saith shall never be confounded, that is to say, 'Verily, we are God's and to Him we return!' and going back to the old woman's house, knocked at the door. She came out and he wept before her, till he swooned away. When he came to himself, he told her all that had passed, and she blamed him and chid him for his heedlessness, saying, 'Thou hast but thyself to thank for thine affliction and calamity.' And she gave not over reproaching him, till the blood streamed from his nostrils and he again fainted away. When he revived, he saw her weeping over him; so he bewailed himself and repeated the following verses:

How bitter is parting to friends, and how sweet Reunion to
     lovers, for sev'rance that sigh!
May God all unite them and watch over me, For I'm of their number
     and like for to die.

The old woman mourned over him and said to him, 'Sit here, whilst I go in quest of news and return to thee in haste.' 'I hear and obey,' answered he. So she left him and was absent till midday, when she returned and said to him, 'O Ali, I fear me thou must die in thy grief; thou wilt never see thy beloved again save on Es Sirat;[FN#23] for the people of the Christian's house, when they arose in the morning, found the window giving on the garden broken in and Zumurrud missing, and with her a pair of saddle- bags, full of the Christian's money. When I came thither, I found the Master of Police and his officers standing at the door, and there is no power and no virtue save in God the Most High, the Supreme!'

When he heard this, the light in his eyes was changed to darkness and he despaired of life and made sure of death; nor did he leave weeping, till he lost his senses. When he recovered, love and longing were sore upon him; there befell him a grievous sickness and he kept his house a whole year; during which time the old woman ceased not to bring him doctors and ply him with diet- drinks and make him broths, till his life returned to him. Then he recalled what had passed and repeated the following verses:

Union is parted; in its stead, of grief I am possessed: My tears
     flow still, my heart's on fire for yearning and unrest.
Longing redoubles on a wight who hath no peace, so sore Of love
     and wakefulness and pain he's wasted and oppressed.
Lord, I beseech Thee, if there be relief for me in aught,
     Vouchsafe it, whilst a spark of life abideth in my breast.

When the second year began, the old woman said to him, 'O my son, all this thy sadness and sorrowing will not bring thee back thy mistress. Rise, therefore, take heart and seek for her in the lands: haply thou shalt light on some news of her.' And she ceased not to exhort and encourage him, till he took heart and she carried him to the bath. Then she made him drink wine and eat fowls, and thus she did with him for a whole month, till he regained strength and setting out, journeyed without ceasing till he arrived at Zumurrud's city, when he went to the tilting-ground and sitting down before the dish of sweet rice, put out his hand to eat of it.

When the folk saw this, they were concerned for him and said to him, 'O young man, eat not of that dish, for whoso eats thereof, misfortune befalls him.' 'Leave me to eat of it,' answered he, 'and let them do with me as they list, so haply I may be at rest from this weary life.' Then he ate a first mouthful, and Zumurrud was minded to have him brought to her; but bethought her that belike he was anhungred and said in herself, 'It were well to let him eat his fill.' So he went on eating, whilst the people looked on in astonishment, waiting to see what would befall him; and when he had done, Zumurrud said to certain of her eunuchs, 'Go to yonder youth that eateth of the rice and bring him to me on courteous wise, saying, 'The King would have speech of thee on some slight matter.' 'We hear and obey,' answered they and going up to Ali Shar, said to him, 'O my lord, the King desires the favour of a word with thee, and let thy heart be easy.' 'I hear and obey,' replied he and followed the eunuchs, who carried him before Zumurrud, whilst the people said to one another, 'There is no power and no virtue save in God the Most High, the Supreme! I wonder what the King will do with him!' And others said, 'He will do him nought but good; for, were he minded to harm him, he had not suffered him to eat his fill.'

When he came before Zumurrud, he saluted and kissed the earth before her, whilst she returned his greeting and received him with honour. Then said she to him, 'What is thy name and condition and what brought thee hither?' 'O King,' answered he, 'my name is Ali Shar; I am of the sons of the merchants of Khorassan and the object of my coming hither is to seek for a slave-girl whom I have lost; for she was dearer to me than my sight and my hearing, and indeed my soul cleaves to her, since I lost her.' And he wept, till he swooned away. She caused sprinkle rose-water on his face, till he came to himself, when she said, 'Bring me the table of sand and the pen.' So they brought them and she took the pen and drew a geomantic figure, which she considered awhile; then, 'Thou hast spoken sooth,' quoth she. 'God will grant thee speedy reunion with her; so be not troubled.' Then she bade her chamberlain carry him to the bath and after clothe him in a handsome suit of royal apparel, and mount him an one of the best of the King's horses and bring him to the palace at end of day. So the chamberlain took him away, whilst the folk said to one another, 'What makes the King deal thus courteously with yonder youth?' And one said, 'Did I not tell you that he would do him no hurt? For he is fair of aspect; and this I knew, when the King suffered him to eat his fill.' And each said his say; after which they all dispersed and went their ways.

As for Zumurrud, she thought the night would never come, that she might be alone with the beloved of her heart. As soon as it was dusk, she withdrew to her sleeping-chamber and made as she were overcome with sleep; and it was her wont to suffer none to pass the night with her, save the two little eunuchs that waited upon her. After a little, she sent for Ali Shar and sat down upon the bed, with candles burning at her head and feet and the place lighted with hanging lamps of gold that shone like the sun. When the people heard of her sending for Ali Shar, they marvelled and said, 'Algates, the King is enamoured of this young man, and to- morrow he will make him commander of the troops.' And each thought his thought and said his say. When they brought him in to her, he kissed the earth before her and called down blessings on her, and she said in herself, 'Needs must I jest with him awhile, ere I make myself known to him.' Then said she to him, 'O Ali, hast thou been to the bath?' 'Yes, O my lord,' answered he. 'Come, eat of this fowl and meat and drink of this wine and sherbet of sugar,' said she; 'for thou art weary; and after come hither.' 'I hear and obey,' replied he and did as she bade him.

When he had made an end of eating and drinking, she said to him, 'Come up with me on the couch and rub my feet.' So he fell to rubbing her feet and legs and found them softer than silk. Then said she, 'Go higher with the rubbing;' and he, 'Pardon me, O my lord, I will go no higher than the knee.' Whereupon, 'Wilt thou gainsay me?' quoth she. 'It shall be an ill-omened night for thee! Nay, but it behoves thee to do my bidding and I will make thee my minion and appoint thee one of my Amirs.' 'And in what must I do thy bidding, O King of the age?' asked Ali. 'Put off thy trousers,' answered she, 'and lie down on thy face.' Quoth he, 'That is a thing I never in my life did; and if thou force me thereto, I will accuse thee thereof before God on the Day of Resurrection. Take all thou hast given me and let me go to my own city.' And he wept and lamented. But she said, 'Put off thy trousers and lie down on thy face, or I will strike off thy head.' So he did as she bade him and she mounted upon his back. And he felt what was softer than silk and fresher than cream and said in himself, 'Of a truth, this King is better than all the women!'

She abode a while on his back, then turned over on to the ground, and he said [in himself], 'Praised be God! It seems his yard is not in point.' Then said she, 'O Ali, it is of the wont of my yard that it standeth not on end, except it be rubbed with the hand; so, some, rub it with thy hand, till it be in point, else will I kill thee.' So saying, she lay down on her back and taking his hand, set it to her kaze, and he found it a kaze softer than silk, white, plump and great, resembling for heat the hot room of the bath or the heart of a lover, whom passion hath wasted. Quoth Ali in himself, 'Verily, this King hath a kaze. This is a wonder of wonders!' And desire got hold on him and his yard stood on end to the utmost; which when Zumurrud saw, she burst out laughing and said to him, 'O my lord, all this betideth and yet thou knowest me not!' 'And who art thou, O King?' asked he; and she said, 'I am thy slave-girl Zumurrud.'

When he knew this and was certified that she was indeed his very slave-girl Zumurrud, he threw himself upon her, as the lion upon the sheep, and kissed her and embraced her. Then he thrust his yard into her poke and stinted not to play the porter at her door and the Imam[FN#24] at her prayer-niche, whilst she with him ceased not from inclination and prostration and rising up and sitting down,[FN#25] accompanying her canticles of praise[FN#26] with motitations and other amorous gestures, till the [two little] eunuchs [aforesaid] heard [the noise]. So they came and peeping out from behind the curtains, saw the King lying [on his back] and Ali Shar upon him, thrusting and thronging amain, whilst she puffed and blew and wriggled. Quoth they, 'This is no man's wriggle; belike this King is a woman.' But they concealed their affair and discovered it to none.

On the morrow, Zumurrud summoned all the troops and the grandees of the realm and said to them, 'I am minded to journey to this man's country; so choose a deputy, who shall rule over you, till I return to you.' And they answered, 'We hear and obey.' Then she applied herself to making ready for the journey and furnished herself with victual and treasure and camels and mules and so forth; after which she set out with Ali Shar, and they fared on, till they arrived at his native place, where he entered his house and gave alms and largesse. God vouchsafed him children by her, and they both lived the happiest of lives, till there came to them the Destroyer of Delights and Sunderer of Companies. Glory be to God, the Eternal without cease, and praised be He in every case!

THE LOVES OF JUBEIR BEN UMEIR AND THE LADY BUDOUR

It is related the Khalif Haroun er Reshid was restless one night and could not sleep; so that he ceased not to toss from side to side for very restlessness, till, growing weary of this, he called Mesrour and said to him, 'O Mesrour, look what may solace me of this my restlessness.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered Mesrour, 'wilt thou walk in the garden of the palace and divert thyself with the sight of its flowers and gaze upon the stars and note the beauty of their ordinance and the moon among them, shining on the water?' 'O Mesrour,' replied the Khalif, 'my heart inclines not to aught of this.' 'O my lord,' continued Mesrour, 'there are in thy palace three hundred concubines, each of whom hath her separate lodging. Do thou bid retire each into her own apartment and then go thou about and divert thyself with gazing on them, without their knowledge.' 'O Mesrour,' answered Haroun, 'the palace is mine and the girls are my property: moreover, my soul inclineth not to aught of this.' 'O my lord,' said Mesrour, 'summon the doctors and sages and poets and bid them contend before thee in argument and recite verses and tell thee tales and anecdotes.' 'My soul inclines not to aught of this,' answered the Khalif; and Mesrour said, 'O my lord, bid the minions and wits and boon-companions attend thee and divert thee with witty sallies.' 'O Mesrour,' replied the Khalif, 'indeed my soul inclineth not to aught of this.' 'Then, O my lord,' rejoined Mesrour, 'strike off my head; maybe, that will dispel thine unease and do away the restlessness that is upon thee.'

At this the Khalif laughed and said, 'See which of the boon- companions is at the door.' So Mesrour went out and returning, said, 'O my lord, he who sits without is Ali ben Mensour of Damascus, the Wag.' 'Bring him to me,' quoth Haroun; and Mesrour went out and returned with Ibn Mensour, who said, on entering, 'Peace be on thee, O Commander of the Faithful!' The Khalif returned his salutation and said to him, 'O Ibn Mensour, tell us one of thy stories.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' said the other, 'shall I tell thee what I have seen with my eyes or what I have only heard tell?' 'If thou have seen aught worth telling,' replied the Khalif, 'let us hear it; for report is not like eye- witness.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' said Ibn Mensour, 'lend me thine ear and thy heart.' 'O Ibn Mensour,' answered the Khalif, 'behold, I am listening to thee with mine ears and looking at thee with mine eyes and attending to thee with my heart.'

'Know then, O Commander of the Faithful,' began Ibn Mensour, 'that I receive a yearly allowance from Mohammed ben Suleiman el Hashimi, Sultan[FN#27] of Bassora; so I went to him, once upon a time, as usual, and found him about to ride out a-hunting. I saluted him, and he returned my salute and would have me mount and go a-hunting with him; but I said, "O my lord, I cannot ride; so do thou stablish me in the guest-house and give thy chamberlains and officers charge over me." And he did so and departed for the chase. His officers entreated me with the utmost honour and hospitality; but I said in myself, "By Allah, it is a strange thing that I should have used so long to come from Baghdad to Bassora, yet know no more of the town than from the palace to the garden and back again! When shall I find an occasion like this to view the different parts of Bassora? I will rise at once and walk forth alone and divert myself and digest what I have eaten."

So I donned my richest clothes and went out a-walking in Bassora. Now it is known to thee, O Commander of the Faithful, that it hath seventy streets, each seventy parasangs long of Irak measure; and I lost myself in its by-streets and thirst overcame me. Presently, as I went along, I came to a great door, on which were two rings of brass, with curtains of red brocade drawn before it. Over the door was a trellis, covered with a creeping vine, that hung down and shaded the doorway; and on either side the porch was a stone bench. I stood still, to gaze upon the place, and presently heard a sorrowful voice, proceeding from a mourning heart, warbling melodiously and chanting the following verses:

My body is become th' abode of sickness and dismay, By reason of
     a fawn, whose land and stead are far away.
O zephyr of the waste, that roused my pain in me, I pray, By God
     your Lord, to him, with whom my heart dwells, take your way
          And prithee chide him, so reproach may soften him,
          maybe.
And if to you he do incline and hearken, then make fair Your
     speech and tidings unto him of lovers, 'twixt you, bear.
Yea, and vouchsafe to favour me with service debonair And unto
     him I love make known my case and my despair,
          Saying, "What ails thy bounden slave that, for
          estrangement, she
Should die without offence of her committed or despite Or
     disobedience or breach of plighted faith or slight
Or fraud or turning of her heart to other or unright?" And if he
     smile, with dulcet speech bespeak ye thus the wight:
          "An thou thy company wouldst grant to her, 'twere well
          of thee;
For she for love of thee's distraught, as needs must be the case;
     Her eyes are ever void of sleep; she weeps and wails apace."
If he show favour and incline to grant the wished-for grace, 'Tis
     well and good; but, if ye still read anger in his face,
          Dissemble then with him and say, "We know her not, not
          we."

Quoth I to myself, "Verily, if the owner of this voice be fair, she unites beauty of person and eloquence and sweetness of voice." Then I drew near the door, and raising the curtain little by little, beheld a damsel, white as the moon, when it rises on its fourteenth night, with joined eyebrows and languorous eyelids, breasts like twin pomegranates and dainty lips like twin corn-marigolds,[FN#28] mouth as it were Solomon's seal and teeth that sported with the reason of rhymester and proser, even as saith the poet:

O mouth of the beloved, who set thy pearls arow And eke with
     wine fulfilled thee and camomiles like show,
And lent the morning-glory unto thy smile, and who Hath with a
     padlock sealed thee of rubies sweet of show?
Whoso but looks upon thee is mad for joy and pride. How should
     it fare with him, who kisseth thee, heigho!

And as saith another:

O pearls of the teeth of my love, Have ruth on cornelian and spare To vie with it! Shall it not find You peerless and passing compare?

In fine, she comprised all manner of loveliness and was a ravishment to men and women, nor could the beholder satisfy himself with the sight of her beauty; for she was as the poet hath said of her:

If, face to face, she do appear, unveiled, she slays; and if
     She turn her back, she makes all men her lovers far and
     near.
Like the full moon and eke the sun she is, but cruelty And
     inhumanity belong not to her nature dear.
The garden-gates of Paradise are opened with her shift And the
     full moon revolveth still upon her neck-rings' sphere.

As I looked at her through the opening of the curtains, she turned and seeing me standing at the door, said to her maid, "See who stands at the door." So the maid came up to me and said, "O old man, hast thou no shame, or do gray hairs and impudence go together?" "O my mistress," answered I, "I confess to the gray hairs, but as for unmannerliness, I think not to be guilty of it." "And what can be more unmannerly," rejoined her mistress, "than to intrude thyself upon a house other than thy house and gaze on a harem other than thy harem?" "O my lady," said I, "I have an excuse." "And what is thine excuse?" asked she. Quoth I, "I am a stranger and well-nigh dead of thirst." "We accept thine excuse," answered she and calling one of her maids, said to her, "O Lutf, give him to drink in the golden tankard."

So she brought me a tankard of red gold, set with pearls and jewels, full of water mingled with odoriferous musk and covered with a napkin of green silk; and I addressed myself to drink and was long about it, casting stolen glances at her the while, till I could prolong it no longer. Then I returned the tankard to the maid, but did not offer to go; and she said to me, "O old man, go thy way." "O my lady," replied I, "I am troubled in mind." "For what?" asked she; and I answered, "For the uncertainty of fortune and the vicissitudes of events." "Well mayst thou be troubled thereanent," replied she, "for Time[FN#29] is the mother of wonders. But what hast thou seen of them that thou shouldst muse upon?" Quoth I, "I was thinking of the former owner of this house, for he was my good friend in his lifetime." "What was his name?" asked she. "Mohammed ben Ali the Jeweller," answered I; "and he was a man of great wealth. Did he leave any children?" "Yes," said she; "he left a daughter, Budour by name, who inherited all his wealth." Quoth I, "Meseems thou art his daughter?" "Yes," answered she, laughing; then added, "O old man, thou hast talked long enough; go thy ways." "Needs must I go," replied I; "but I see thou art out of health. Tell me thy case; it may be God will give thee solace at my hands." "O old man," rejoined she, "if thou be a man of discretion, I will discover to thee my secret; but first tell me who thou art, that I may know whether thou art worthy of confidence or not; for the poet saith:

None keepeth secrets but the man who's trusty and discreet: A
     secret's ever safely placed with honest fold and leal;
For me, my secrets I preserve within a locked-up house, Whose
     key is lost and on whose door is set the Cadi's seal."

"O my lady," answered I, "an thou wouldst know who I am, I am Ali ben Mensour of Damascus, the Wag, boon-companion to the Khalif Haroun er Reshid." When she heard my name she came down from her seat and saluting me, said, "Welcome, O Ibn Mensour! Now will I tell thee my case and entrust thee with my secret. Know that I am a lover separated from her beloved." "O my lady," rejoined I, "thou art fair and shouldst love none but the fair. Whom then dost thou love?" Quoth she, "I love Jubeir ben Umeir es Sheibani, Prince of the Benou Sheiban;"[FN#30] and she described to me a young man than whom there was none handsomer in Bassora. "O my lady," asked I, "have letters or interviews passed between you?" "Yes," answered she; "but his love for me was of the tongue, not of the heart; for he kept not his covenant nor was faithful to his troth." "And what was the cause of your separation?" asked I.

"I was sitting one day," replied she, "whilst my maid here combed my hair. When she had made an end of combing it, she plaited my tresses, and my beauty and grace pleased her; so she bent down to me and kissed my cheek. At that moment, he came in, unawares, and seeing her kiss my cheek, turned away in anger, vowing eternal separation and repeating the following verses:

If any share with me in her I love, incontinent, I'll cast her
     off from me and be to live alone content.
A mistress, sure, is nothing worth, if, in the way of love, She
     wish for aught but that to which the lover doth consent.

And from that time to this, O Ibn Mensour," continued she, "he hath neither written to me nor answered my letters." "And what thinkest thou to do?" asked I. Quoth she, "I have a mind to send him a letter by thee. If thou bring me back an answer, thou shalt have of me five hundred dinars; and if not, then a hundred for thy pains." "Do what seemeth good to thee," answered I. So she called for inkhorn and paper and wrote the following verses:

Whence this estrangement and despite, beloved of my soul?
     Whither have kindliness and love between us taken flight?
What makes thee with aversion turn from me? Indeed, thy face Is
     not the face I used to know, when we our troth did plight.
Belike, the slanderers have made a false report of me, And thou
     inclin'dst to them, and they redoubled in despite.
If thou believedst their report, far, far it should have been
     From thee, that art too whole of wit at such a bait to
     bite!
Yea, I conjure thee by thy life, tell me what thou hast heard:
     For lo! thou knowest what was said and wilt not do
     unright.
If aught I've said that angered thee, a speech of change
     admits; Ay, and interpreting, I trow, may change its
     meaning quite,
Were it a word sent down from God; for even the Pentateuch Hath
     falsified and garbled been of this and th' other
     wight.[FN#31]
Whilst, as for lies, how many were of folk before us told!
     Joseph to Jacob was traduced and blackened in his sight.
Yea, for the slanderer and myself and thee, an awful day Of
     standing up shall come, when God to judgment all shall
     cite.

Then she sealed the letter and gave it to me. I took it and carried it to the house of Jubeir ben Umeir, whom I found absent hunting. So I sat down, to wait for him, and presently he returned; and when I saw him come riding up, my wit was confounded by his beauty ands grace. As soon as he saw me sitting at the door, he dismounted and coming up to me, saluted and embraced me; and meseemed I embraced the world and all that therein is. Then he carried me into his house and seating me on his own couch, called for food. So they brought a table of khelenj[FN#32] wood of Khorassan, with feet of gold, whereon were all manner of meats, fried and roasted and the like. So I seated myself at the table and examining it, found the following verses engraved upon it:

Weep for the cranes that erst within the porringers did lie And
     for the stews and partridges evanished heave a sigh!
Mourn for the younglings of the grouse; lament unceasingly, As,
     for the omelettes and the fowls browned in the pan, do I.
How my heart yearneth for the fish that, in its different
     kinds, Upon a paste of wheaten flour, lay hidden in the
     pie!
Praised be God for the roast meat, as in the dish it lay, With
     pot-herbs, soaked in vinegar, in porringers hard by,
And eke the rice with buffaloes' milk dressed and made savoury,
     Wherein the hands were plunged and arms were buried
     bracelet high!
O soul, I rede thee patient be, for God is bountiful: What
     though thy fortunes straitened be, His succour's ever
     nigh.

Then said Jubeir, "Put thy hand to our food and ease our heart by eating of our victual." "By Allah," answered I, "I will not eat a mouthful, till thou grant me my desire." "What is thy desire?" asked he. So I brought out the letter and gave it to him; but, when he had read it, he tore it into pieces and throwing it on the floor, said to me, "O Ibn Mensour, I will grant thee whatever thou askest, save this that concerns the writer of this letter, for I have no answer to make to her." At this, I rose in anger; but he caught hold of my skirts, saying, "O Ibn Mensour, I will tell thee what she said to thee, for all I was not present with you." "And what did she say to me?" asked I. "Did she not say to thee," rejoined he, "'If thou bring me back an answer, thou shalt have of me five hundred dinars; and if not, a hundred for thy pains?'" "Yes," answered I; and he said, "Abide with me this day and eat and drink and make merry, and thou shalt have five hundred dinars."

So I sat with him and ate and drank and made merry and entertained him with converse; after which I said to him, "O my master, is there no music in thy house?" "Indeed," answered he, "we have drunk this long while without music." Then he called out, saying, "Ho, Shejeret ed Durr!" Whereupon a slave-girl answered him from her chamber and came in to us, with a lute of Indian make, wrapped in a silken bag. She sat down and laying the lute in her lap, preluded in one-and-twenty modes, then, returning to the first, sang the following verses to a lively measure:

Who hath not tasted the sweet and the bitter of passion, I
     trow, The presence of her whom he loves from her absence
     he hardly shall know.
So he, from the pathway of love who hath wandered and fallen
     astray, The smooth knoweth not from the rough of the
     roadway, wherein he doth go.
I ceased not the votaries of love and of passion to cross and
     gainsay, Till I too must taste of its sweet and its
     bitter, its gladness and woe.
Then I drank a full draught of the cup of its bitters, and
     humbled was I, and thus to the bondman of Love and its
     freedman therein was brought low.
How many a night have I passed with the loved one, carousing
     with him, Whilst I drank from his lips what was sweeter
     than nectar and colder than snow!
How short was the life of the nights of our pleasance! It
     seemed to us still, No sooner was night fallen down than
     the daybreak to eastward did glow.
But Fortune had vowed she would sever our union and sunder our
     loves; And now, in good sooth, she her vow hath
     accomplished. Fate ordered it so;
Fate ordered it thus, and against its ordaining, appeal there
     is none; For who shall gainsay a supreme one's
     commandments or causes him forego?

Hardly had she made an end of these verses, when Jubeir gave a great cry and fell down in a swoon; whereupon, "May God not punish thee, O old man!" exclaimed the damsel. "This long time have we drunk without music, for fear the like of this should befall our master. But go now to yon chamber and sleep there." So I went to the chamber in question and slept till the morning, when a page brought me a purse of five hundred dinars and said to me, "This is what my master promised thee; but return thou not to her who sent thee and let it be as if neither thou nor we had heard of this affair." "I hear and obey," answered I and taking the purse, went my way.

However, I said in myself, "The lady will have expected me since yesterday; and by Allah, I must needs return to her and tell her what passed between me and him; or she will curse me and all who come from my country." So I went to her and found her standing behind the door; and when she saw me, she said, "O Ibn Mensour, thou hast gotten me nought." "Who told thee of this?" asked I; and she answered, "O Ibn Mensour, yet another thing hath been revealed to me; and it is that, when thou gavest hum the letter, he tore it in pieces and throwing it on the floor, said to thee, 'O Ibn Mensour, ask me anything but what relates to the writer of this letter; for I have no reply to make to her.' Then didst thou rise from beside him in anger; but he laid hold of thy skirts, saying, 'Abide with me to-day, for thou art my guest, and eat and drink and make merry; and thou shalt have five hundred dinars.' So thou didst sit with him, eating and drinking and making merry, and entertainedst him with converse; and a slave-girl sand such an air and such verses, whereupon he fell down in a swoon." Quoth I, "Wast thou then with us?" "O Ibn Mensour," replied she, "hast thou not heard the saying of the poet:

The heart of the lover hath eyes, well I wot, That see what the eyes of beholders see not.

But," added she, "day and night alternate not upon aught, but they change it." Then she raised her eyes to heaven and said, "O my God and my Master and my Lord, like as Thou hast afflicted me with love of Jubeir ben Umeir, even so do Thou afflict him with love of me and transfer the passion from my heart to his!" Then she gave me a hundred dinars for my pains and I took it and returned to the palace, when I found the Sultan come back from hunting; so I took my pension of him and made my way back to Baghdad.

Next year, I repaired to Bassora, as usual, to seek my pension, and the Sultan paid it to me; but as I was about to return to Baghdad, I bethought me of the lady Budour and said to myself, "By Allah, I must needs go and see what hath befallen between her and her lover!" So I went to her house and finding the porch swept and sprinkled and slaves and servants and pages standing before the door, said to myself, "Most like grief hath broken the lady's heart and she is dead, and some Amir or other hath taken up his abode in her house." So I went on to Jubeir's house, where I found the benches of the porch broken down and no pages at the door, as of wont, and said to myself, "Belike he too is dead." Then I took up my station before the door of his house and with my eyes running over with tears, bemoaned it in the following verses:

Lords, that are gone, but whom my heart doth evermore ensue,
     Return; so shall my festal says return to me with you.
I stand before your sometime stead, bewailing your abodes, With
     quivering lids, from which the tears rain down, like
     summer dew.
Weeping, I question of the house and ruins, "Where is he Who
     was the source of benefits and bounties ever new?"
[They answer] "Go thy ways, for those thou lov'st from the
     abode Departed are and neath the dust are buried; so
     adieu!"
May God not stint us of the sight [in dreams] of all their
     charms Nor be their noble memories aye absent from men's
     view!

As I was thus bewailing the folk of the house, there came a black slave thereout and said to me, "Hold thy peace, O old man! May thy mother be bereft of thee! What ails thee to bemoan the house thus?" Quoth I, "I knew it of yore, when it belonged to a good friend of mine." "What was his name?" asked the slave. And I answered, "Jubeir ben Umeir the Sheibani." "And what hath befallen him?" rejoined he. "Praised be God, he is yet in the enjoyment of wealth and rank and prosperity, except that God hath stricken him with love of a damsel called the lady Budour; and he is overcome with love of her, that, for the violence of his passion and torment, he is like a great rock overthrown. If he hunger, he saith not, 'Feed me;' nor, if he thirst, doth he say, 'Give me to drink.'" Quoth I, "Ask leave me to go in to him." "O my lord," said the slave, "Wilt thou go in to him who understands or to him who understands not?" "I must needs see him, whatever be his case," answered I.

Se he went in and presently returned with permission for me to enter, whereupon I went in to Jubeir and found him like a rock overthrown, understanding neither sign nor speech. I spoke to him, but he answered me not; and one of his servants said to me, "O my lord, if thou know aught of verse, repeat it, and raise thy voice; and he will be aroused by this and speak with thee." So I recited the following verses:

Budour's love hast thou forgotten or art deaf still to her
     sighs? Wak'st anights, or do thine eyelids close upon thy
     sleeping eyes?
If thy tears flow fast and freely, night and day long, torrent-
     wise, Know thou, then, that thou shalt sojourn evermore in
     Paradise.[FN#33]

When he heard this, he opened his eyes and said, "Welcome, O Ibn Mensour! Verily, the jest is become earnest." "O my lord," said I, "is there aught thou wouldst have me do for thee?" "Yes," answered he; "I would fain write her a letter and send it to her by thee. If thou bring me back an answer, thou shalt have of me a thousand dinars; and if not, two hundred for thy pains." "Do what seemeth good to thee," said I. So he called to one of his slave-girls for inkhorn and paper and wrote the following verses:

By Allah, O my lady, have ruth on me, I pray! For all my wit by
     passion is ravished quite away.
Yea, love for thee and longing have mastered me and clad With
     sickness and bequeathed me abjection and dismay.
Aforetime, O my lady, by love I set small store And deemed it
     light and easy to bear, until to-day;
But now that Love hath shown me the billows of its sea, Those I
     excuse, repenting, who languish neath its sway.
Vouchsafe thy grace to grant me; or, if thou wilt me slay, At
     least, then, for thy victim forget thou not to pray.

Then he sealed the letter and gave it to me. I took it and repairing to Budour's house, raised the curtain of the door, little by little, as of wont, and looking in, saw ten damsels, high-bosomed maids, like moons, and the lady Budour sitting in their midst, as she were the full moon among stars or the sun, when it is clear of clouds; nor was there on her any trace of pain or care. As I looked and marvelled at her case, she turned and seeing me standing at the gate, said to me, "Welcome and fair welcome to thee, O Ibn Mensour! Come in." So I entered and saluting her, gave her the letter. She read it and laughing, said to me, "O Ibn Mensour, the poet lied not when he said:

The love of thee I will endure with patient constancy, Till such time as a messenger shall come to me from thee.

O Ibn Mensour," added she, "I will write thee an answer that he may give thee what he promised thee." "May God requite thee with good!" answered I. So she called for inkhorn and paper and wrote the following verses:

How comes it my vows I fulfilled and thou, thou wast false to
     thy plight? Thou sawst me do justice and truth, and yet
     thou thyself didst unright.
'Twas thou that begannest on me with rupture and rigour, I
     trow; 'Twas thou that play'dst foul, and with thee began
     the untruth and the slight.
Yea, still I was true to my troth and cherished but thee among
     men And ceased not thine honour to guard and keep it
     unsullied and bright,
Till tidings of fashions full foul I heard, as reported of
     thee, And saw with mine eyes what thou didst, to harm me
     and work me despite.
Shall I then abase my estate, that thine may exalted become? By
     God, hadst thou generous been, the like should thy conduct
     requite!
So now unto solace I'll turn my heart, with forgetting, from
     thee And washing my hands of thy thought, blot despair for
     thee out of my spright.

"By Allah, O my lady," said I, "there needs but the reading of this letter, to kill him!" So I tore it in pieces and said to her, "Write him other than this." "I hear and obey," answered she and wrote the following:

Indeed, I am consoled and sleep is pleasant to mine eyes; For I
     have heard what came of prate of slanderers and spies.
My heart my summons hath obeyed, thee to forget; and eke My
     lids to stint from wake for thee have seen it good and
     wise.
He lies who says that severance is bitterness; for me I find
     its taste none otherwise than sweet; indeed he lies.
I've grown to turn away from those who bring me news of thee
     And look upon it as a thing at which my gorge doth rise.
Behold, I have forgotten thee with every part of me. Let then
     the spy and who will else this know and recognise.

"By Allah, O my lady," said I, "when he reads these verses, his soul will depart his body!" "O Ibn Mensour," quoth she, "is passion indeed come to such a pass with him as thou sayst?" "Had I said more than this," replied I, "it were but the truth: but clemency is of the nature of the noble." When she heard this, her eyes filled with tears and she wrote him a letter, O Commander of the Faithful, there is none in thy court could avail to write the like of it; and therein were these verses:

How long shall this despite continue and this pride? My enviers'
     spite on me thou sure hast satisfied.
Mayhap, I did amiss and knew it not; so tell Me what thou heardst
     of me, that did our loves divide.
Even as I welcome sleep unto mine eyes and lids, So would I
     welcome thee, beloved, to my side.
I've quaffed the cup of love for thee, unmixed and pure; So, if
     thou see me drunk, reproach me not nor chide.

Then she sealed it and gave it to me; and I said, "O my lady, this thy letter will heal the sick and ease the thirsting soul." Then I took it and was going away, when she called me back and said to me, "Tell me that I will be his guest this night." At this I rejoiced greatly and carried the letter to Jubeir, whom I found with his eyes fixed on the door, expecting the reply. I gave him the letter and he opened and read it, then gave a great cry and fell down in a swoon. When he came to himself, he said to me, "O Ibn Mensour, did she indeed write this letter with her hand and touch it with her fingers?" "O my lord," answered I, "do folk write with their feet?" And by Allah, O Commander of the Faithful, I had not done speaking, when we heard the chink of her anklets in the vestibule and she entered.

When he saw her, he sprang to his feet, as thou there ailed him nought, and embraced her as the letter Lam embraces Alif,[FN#34] and the malady, that would not depart, ceased from him. Then he sat down, but she abode standing and I said to her, "O my lady, why dost thou not sit?" Quoth she, "I will not sit, O Ibn Mensour, save on a condition that is between us." "And what is that?" asked I. "None may know lovers' secrets," answered she and putting her mouth to Jubeir's ear, whispered to him; whereupon, "I hear and obey," replied he and rising, said somewhat privily to one of his slaves, who went out and returned, in a little, with a Cadi and two witnesses. Then Jubeir rose and taking a bag containing a hundred thousand dinars, said, "O Cadi, marry me to this young lady and write this sum to her dowry." Quoth the Cadi to her, "Say, 'I consent to this.'" "I consent to this," said she, whereupon he drew up the contract of marriage, and she opened the bag and taking out a handful of gold, gave it to the Cadi and the witnesses and handed the rest to Jubeir.

Then the Cadi and the witnesses withdrew, and I sat with them, in mirth and delight, till the most part of the night was past, when I said in myself, "These are lovers and have been this long while separated. I will go now and sleep in some place afar from them and leave them to be private, one with the other." So I rose, but she laid hold of my skirts, saying, "What thinkest thou to do?" "So and so," answered I. But she rejoined, "Sit still, when we would be rid of thee, we will send thee away." So I sat with them till near daybreak, when she said to me, "O Ibn Mensour, go to yonder chamber; for we have furnished it for thee, and it is thy sleeping-place." So I went thither and slept till morning, when a page brought me basin and ewer, and I made the ablution and prayed the morning-prayer. Then I sat down and presently, Jubeir and his mistress came out of the bath in the house, wringing their locks.

I wished them good morning and gave them joy of their safety and reunion, saying to Jubeir, "That which began with constraint hath ended in contentment." "Thou sayst well," replied he; "and indeed thou deservest largesse." And he called his treasurer and bade him fetch three thousand dinars. So he brought a purse containing that sum, and Jubeir gave it to me, saying, "Favour us by accepting this." "I will not take it," answered I, "till thou tell me the manner of the transfer of love from her to thee, after so great an aversion." "I hear and obey," said he. "Know that we have a festival, called the festival of the New Year, when all the people use to take boat and go a-pleasuring on the river. So I went out, with my comrades, and saw a boat, wherein were half a score damsels like moons, and amongst them, the lady Budour, with her lute in her hand. She preluded in eleven modes, then returning to the first, sang the following verses:

Fire is not so fierce and so hot as the fires in my heart that
     glow, And granite itself is less hard than the heart of my
     lord, I trow.
Indeed, when I think on his make and his fashion, I marvel to see
     A heart that is harder than rock in a body that's softer
     than snow.

Quoth I to her, 'Repeat the verses and the air.' But she would not; so I bade the boatmen pelt her with oranges, and they pelted her till we feared her boat would sink. Then she went her way, and this is how the love was transferred from her breast to mine." So I gave them joy of their reunion and taking the purse, with its contents, returned to Baghdad.

When the Khalif heard Ibn Mensour's story, his heart was lightened and the restlessness and oppression from which he suffered forsook him.

THE MAN OF YEMEN AND HIS SIX SLAVE-GIRLS

The Khalif El-Mamoun was sitting one day in his palace, surrounded by his grandees and officers of state, and there were present also before him all his poets and minions, amongst the rest one named Mohammed of Bassora. Presently, the Khalif turned to the latter and said to him, 'O Mohammed, I wish thee to tell me something that I have never before heard.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered Mohammed, 'shall I tell thee a thing that I have heard with my ears of a thing that I have seen with my eyes?' 'Tell me whichever is the rarer,' said El Mamoun.

'Know then, O Commander of the Faithful,' began Mohammed, 'that there lived once a wealthy man, who was a native of Yemen; but he left his native land and came to this city of Baghdad, whose sojourn so pleased him that he transported hither his family and possessions. Now he had six slave-girls, the first fair, the second dark, the third fat, the fourth thin, the fifth yellow and the sixth black, all fair of face and perfectly accomplished and skilled in the arts of singing and playing upon instruments of music. One day he sent for them all and called for meat and drink; and they ate and drank and made merry. Then he filled the cup and taking it in his hand, said to the blonde, "O new-moon- face, let us hear somewhat pleasing." So she took the lute and tuning it, made music thereon with such melodious trills and modulations that the place danced to the rhythm; after which she played a lively measure and sang the following verses:

I have a friend, whose form is mirrored in mine eye, And deep
     within my breast, his name doth buried lie.
Whenas I call him back to mind, I am all heart, And when on him I
     gaze, all eyes indeed am I.
"Forswear the love of him," my censor says; and I, "That which is
     not to be, how shall it be?" reply.
"Go forth from me," quoth I, "and leave me, censor mine: Feign
     not that eath and light, that's grievous to aby."

At this their master was moved to mirth and drinking off his cup, gave the damsels to drink, after which he said to the brunette, "O light of the brasier[FN#35] and delight of souls, let us hear thy lovely voice, wherewith all that hearken are ravished." So she took the lute and trilled upon it, till the place was moved to mirth; then, taking all hearts with her graceful bendings, she sang the following verses:

As thy face liveth, none but thee I'll love nor cherish e'er,
     Till death, nor ever to thy love will I be false, I swear.
O full moon, shrouded, as it were a veil, with loveliness, All
     lovely ones on earth that be beneath thy banners fare.
Thou, that in pleasantness and grace excellest all the fair, May
     God, the Lord of heaven and earth, be with thee everywhere!

The man was pleased and drank off his cup; after which he filled again and taking the goblet in his hand, beckoned to the plump girl and bade her sing and play. So she took the lute and striking a grief-dispelling measure, sang as follows:

If but thy consent be assured, O thou who art all my desire, Be
     all the folk angered 'gainst me; I set not a whit by their
     ire.
And if thou but show me thy face, thy brilliant and beautiful
     face, I reck not if all the kings of the earth from my
     vision retire.
Thy favour, O thou unto whom all beauty must needs be referred,
     Of the goods and the sweets of the world is all that I seek
     and require.

The man was charmed and emptying his cup, gave the girls to drink. Then he beckoned to the slender girl and said to her, "O houri of Paradise, feed thou our ears with sweet sounds." So she took the lute and tuning it, preluded and sang the following verses:

Is it not martyrdom that I for thine estrangement dree, Seeing,
     indeed, I cannot live, if thou depart from me?
Is there no judge, in Love its law, to judge betwixt us twain, to
     do me justice on thy head and take my wreak of thee?

Their lord rejoiced and emptying the cup, gave the girls to drink. Then he signed to the yellow girl and said to her, "O sun of the day, let us hear some pleasant verses." So she took the lute and preluding after the goodliest fashion, sang as follows:

I have a lover, whenas I draw him nigh, He bares upon me a sword
     from either eye.
May God avenge me some whit of him! For lo, He doth oppress me,
     whose heart in 's hand doth lie.
Oft though, "Renounce him, my heart," I say, yet it Will to none
     other than him itself apply.
He's all I ask for, of all created things; Yet jealous Fortune
     doth him to me deny.

The man rejoiced and drank and gave the girls to drink; then he filled the cup and taking it in his hand, signed to the black girl, saying, "O apple of the eye, let us have a taste of thy fashion, though it be but two words." So she took the lute and preluded in various modes, then returned to the first and sang the following verses to a lively air:

O eyes, be large with tears and pour them forth amain, For, lo,
     for very love my senses fail and wane.
All manner of desire I suffer for his sake I cherish, and my foes
     make merry at my pain.
My enviers me forbid the roses of a cheek; And yet I have a heart
     that is to roses fain.
Ay, once the cups went round with joyance and delight And to the
     smitten lutes, the goblets did we drain,
What time my love kept troth and I was mad for him And in faith's
     heaven, the star of happiness did reign.
But lo, he turned away from me, sans fault of mine! Is there a
     bitterer thing than distance and disdain?
Upon his cheeks there bloom a pair of roses red, Blown ready to
     be plucked; ah God, those roses twain!
Were't lawful to prostrate oneself to any else Than God, I'd sure
     prostrate myself upon the swain.

Then rose the six girls and kissing the ground before their lord, said to him, "Judge thou between us, O our lord!" He looked at their beauty and grace and the difference of their colours and praised God the Most High and glorified Him: then said he, "There is none of you but has read the Koran and learnt to sing and is versed in the chronicles of the ancients and the doings of past peoples; so it is my desire that each of you rise and pointing to her opposite, praise herself and dispraise her rival; that is to say, let the blonde point to the black, the plump to the slender and the yellow to the brunette; and after, the latter shall, each in turn, do the like with the former; and be this illustrated with citations from the Holy Koran and somewhat of anecdotes and verse, so as to show forth your culture and elegance of discourse." Quoth they, "We hear and obey."

So the blonde rose first and pointing at the black, said to her, "Out on thee, blackamoor! It is told that whiteness saith, 'I am the shining light, I am the rising full moon.' My colour is patent and my forehead is resplendent, and of my beauty quoth the poet:

A blonde with smooth and polished cheeks, right delicate and
     fair, As if a pearl in beauty hid, as in a shell, she were.
Her shape a splendid Alif[FN#36] is, her smile a medial
     Mim[FN#37] And over it her eyebrows make inverted
     Nouns,[FN#38] a pair.
Yes, and the glances of her eyes are arrows, and her brows A bow
     that therewithal is horned with death and with despair.
If to her cheeks and shape thou pass, her cheeks are roses red,
     Sweet basil, ay, and eglantine and myrtles rich and rare.
'Tis of the saplings' wont, to be implanted in the meads But, in
     the saplings of thy shape, how many meads are there!

My colour is like the wholesome day and the newly-gathered orange-blossom and the sparkling star; and indeed quoth God the Most High, in His precious book, to His prophet Moses (on whom be peace), 'Put thy hand into thy bosom and it shall come forth white without hurt.'[FN#39] And again He saith, 'As for those whose faces are made white, they are in the mercy of God and dwell for ever therein.'[FN#40] My colour is a miracle and my grace an extreme and my beauty a term. It is in the like of me that clothes show fair and to the like of me that hearts incline. Moreover, in whiteness are many excellences; for instance, the snow falls white from heaven, and it is traditional that white is the most beautiful of colours. The Muslims also glory in white turbans; but I should be tedious, were I to repeat all that may be said in praise of white; little and enough is better than too much. So now I will begin with thy dispraise, O black, O colour of ink and blacksmith's dust, thou whose face is like the crow that brings about lovers' parting! Verily, the poet saith in praise of white and dispraise of black:

Seest not that for their milky hue white pearls in price excel
     And charcoal for a groat a load the folk do buy and sell?
And eke white faces, 'tis well known, do enter Paradise, Whilst
     faces black appointed are to fill the halls of Hell.

And indeed it is told in certain histories, related on the authority of devout men, that Noah (on whom be peace) was sleeping one day, with his sons Ham and Shem seated at his head, when a wind sprang up and lifting his clothes, uncovered his nakedness; whereat Ham laughed and did not cover him; but Shem rose and covered him. Presently, Noah awoke and learning what had passed, blessed Shem and cursed Ham. So Shem's face was whitened and from him sprang the prophets and the orthodox Khalifs and Kings; whilst Ham's face was blackened and he fled forth to the land of Ethiopia, and of his lineage came the blacks. All people are of a mind in affirming the lack of understanding of the blacks, even as saith the adage, 'How shall one find a black having understanding?'"

Quoth her master, "It sufficeth; sit down, thou hast been prodigal." And he signed to the negress, who rose, and pointing at the blonde, said, "Doth thou not know that, in the Koran sent down to His prophet and apostle, is transmitted the saying of God the Most High, 'By the night, when it veileth [the world with darkness], and by the day, when it appeareth in all its glory!'[FN#41] If the night were not more illustrious than the day, why should God swear by it and give it precedence of the day? And indeed those of sense and understanding accept this. Knowst now that black [hair] is the ornament of youth and that, when whiteness descends upon the head, delights pass away and the hour of death draws nigh? Were not black the most illustrious of things, God had not set it in the kernel of the heart and the apple of the eye; and how excellent is the saying of the poet:

An if I cherish the dusky maids, this is the reason why; They
     have the hue of the core of the heart and the apple of the
     eye
And youth; nor in error I eschew the whiteness of the blondes;
     For 'tis the colour of hoary hair and shrouds in them shun
     I.

And that of another:

The brown, not the white, are first in my love And worthiest
     eke to be loved of me,
For the colour of damask lips have they, Whilst the white have
     the hue of leprosy.

And of a third:

Black women, white of deeds, are like indeed to eyne That, though
     jet-black they be, with peerless splendours shine.
If I go mad for her, be not amazed; for black The source of
     madness is, when in the feminine.[FN#42]
'Tis as my colour were the middle dark of night; For all no moon
     it be, yet brings it light, in fine.

Moreover, is the companying together of lovers good but in the night? Let this quality and excellence suffice thee. What protects lovers from spies and censors like the blackness of the shadows? And nought gives them cause to fear discovery like the whiteness of the dawn. So, how many claims to honour are there not in blackness and how excellent is the saying of the poet:

I visit them, and the mirk of night doth help me to my will And seconds me, but the white of dawn is hostile to me still.

And that of another:

How many a night in joy I've passed with the beloved one, What
     while the darkness curtained us about with tresses dun!
Whenas the light of morn appeared, it struck me with affright,
     And I to him, 'The Magians lie, who worship fire and sun.'

And saith a third:

He came forth to visit me, shrouding himself in the cloak of the
     night, And hastened his steps, as he wended, for caution and
     fear and affright.
Then rose I and laid in his pathway my cheek, as a carpet it
     were, For abjection, and trailed o'er my traces my skirts,
     to efface them from sight.
But lo, the new moon rose and shone, like a nail-paring cleft
     from the nail, And all but discovered our loves with the
     gleam of her meddlesome light.
And then there betided between us what I'll not discover, i'
     faith: So question no more of the matter and deem not of ill
     or unright.

And a fourth:

Foregather with thy lover, whilst night your loves may screen;
     For that the sun's a telltale, the moon a go-between.

And a fifth:

I love not white women, with fat blown out and overlaid; The girl
     of all girls for me is the slender dusky maid.
Let others the elephant mount, if it like them; as for me, I'll
     ride but the fine-trained colt on the day of the cavalcade.

And a sixth:

My loved one came to me by night And we did clip and interlace
And lay together through the dark; But, lo, the morning broke
     apace.
To God, my Lord, I pray that He Will reunite us of His grace
And make night last to me, what while I hold my love in my
     embrace.

Were I to set forth all the praise of blackness, I should be tedious; but little and enough is better than great plenty and too much. As for thee, O blonde, thy colour is that of leprosy and thine embrace is suffocation; and it is of report that frost and intense cold[FN#43] are in Hell for the torment of the wicked. Again, of black things is ink, wherewith is written the word of God; and were is not for black ambergris and black musk, there would be no perfumes to carry to kings. How many glories are there not in blackness and how well saith the poet:

Dost thou not see that musk, indeed, is worth its weight in gold,
     Whilst for a dirhem and no more a load of lime is sold?
Black eyes cast arrows at men's hearts; but whiteness of the
     eyes, In man, is judged of all to be unsightly to behold."

"It sufficeth," said her master. "Sit down." So she sat down and he signed to the fat girl, who rose and pointing at the slim girl, uncovered her arms and legs and bared her stomach, showing its creases and the roundness of her navel. Then she donned a shift of fine stuff, that showed her whole body, and said, "Praised be God who created me, for that He beautified my face and made me fat and fair and likened me to branches laden with fruit and bestowed upon me abounding beauty and brightness; and praised be He no less, for that He hath given me the precedence and honoured me, when He speaks of me in His holy book! Quoth the Most High, 'And he brought a fat calf.'[FN#44] And indeed He hath made me like unto an orchard, full of peaches and pomegranates. Verily, the townsfolk long for fat birds and eat of them and love not lean birds; so do the sons of Adam desire fat meat and eat of it. How many precious attributes are there not in fatness, and how well saith the poet:

Take leave of thy love, for the caravan, indeed, is on the
     start. O man, canst thou bear to say farewell and thus
     from her to part?
'Tis as her going were, I trow, but to her neighbour's house,
     The faultless gait of a fat fair maid, that never tires
     the heart.

Sawst thou ever one stop at a butcher's stall, but sought fat meat of him? The wise say, 'Pleasure is in three things, eating flesh and riding on flesh and the thrusting of flesh into flesh.' As for thee, O thin one, thy legs are like sparrow's legs or pokers, and thou art like a cruciform plank or a piece of poor meat; there is nought in thee to gladden the heart; even as saith of thee the poet:

Now God forfend that aught enforce me take for bedfellow A
     woman like a foot-rasp, wrapt in palm-fibres and tow!
In every limb she has a horn, that butts me in my sleep, So
     that at day-break, bruised and sore, I rise from her and
     go."

"It is enough," quoth her master. "Sit down." So she sat down and he signed to the slender girl, who rose, as she were a willow-wand or a bamboo-shoot or a plant of sweet basil, and said, "Praised be God who created me and beautified me and made my embraces the end of all desire and likened me to the branch, to which all hearts incline. If I rise, I rise lightly; if I sit, I sit with grace; I am nimble-witted at a jest and sweeter-souled than cheerfulness [itself]. Never heard I one describe his mistress, saying, 'My beloved is the bigness of an elephant or like a long wide mountain;' but rather, 'My lady hath a slender waist and a slim shape.'

A little food contents me and a little water stays my thirst; my sport is nimble and my habit elegant; for I am sprightlier than the sparrow and lighter-footed than the starling. My favours are the desire of the longing and the delight of the seeker; for I am goodly of shape, sweet of smile and graceful as the willow-wand or the bamboo-cane of the basil-plant; nor is there any can compare with me in grace, even as saith one of me:

Thy shape unto the sapling liken I And set my hope to win thee or
     to die.
Distraught, I follow thee, and sore afraid, Lest any look on thee
     with evil eye.

It is for the like of me that lovers run mad and that the longing are distracted. If my lover be minded to draw me to him, I am drawn to him, and if he would have me incline to him, I incline to him and not against him. But as for thee, O fat of body, thine eating is as that of an elephant, and neither much not little contents thee. When thou liest with a man, he hath no ease of thee, nor can he find a way to take his pleasure of thee; for the bigness of thy belly holds him off from clipping thee and the grossness of thy thighs hinders him from coming at thy kaze. What comeliness is there in thy grossness and what pleasantness or courtesy in thy coarse nature? Fat meat is fit for nought but slaughter, nor is there aught therein that calls for praise. If one joke with thee, thou art angry; if one sport with thee, thou art sulky; if thou sleep, thou snorest; if thou walk, thou pantest; if thou eat, thou art never satisfied. Thou art heavier than mountains and fouler than corruption and sin. Thou hast in thee nor movement nor blessing nor thinkest of aught but to eat and sleep. If thou make water, thou scatterest; if thou void, thou gruntest like a bursten wine-skin or a surly elephant. If thou go to the draught-house, thou needest one to wash out thy privy parts and pluck out the hairs; and this is the extreme of laziness and the sign of stupidity. In fine, there is no good thing in thee, and indeed the poet saith of thee:

Heavy and swollen with fat, like a blown-out water-skin, With
     thighs like the pillars of stone that buttress a mountain's
     head,
Lo, if she walk in the West, so cumbrous her corpulence is The
     Eastern hemisphere hears the sound of her heavy tread."

Quoth her master, "It is enough: sit down." So she sat down and he signed to the yellow girl, who rose to her feet and praised God and magnified His name, calling down peace and blessing on the best of His creatures;[FN#45] after which she pointed at the brunette and said to her, "I am praised in the Koran, and the Compassionate One hath described my colour and its excellence over all others in His manifest Book, where He saith, 'A yellow [heifer], pure yellow, whose colour rejoices the beholders.' [FN#46] Wherefore my colour is a portent and my grace an extreme and my beauty a term; for that my colour is the colour of a dinar and of the planets and moons and of apples. My fashion is the fashion of the fair, and the colour of saffron outvies all other colours; so my fashion is rare and my colour wonderful. I am soft of body, and of great price, comprising all attributes of beauty. My colour, in that which exists, is precious as virgin gold, and how many glorious qualities are there not in me! Of the like of me quoth the poet:

Yellow she is, as is the sun that shineth in the sky, And like to
     golden dinars, eke, to see, her beauties are.
Nor with her brightness, anywise, can saffron hold compare, And
     even the very moon herself her charms outvie by far.

And now I will begin in thy dispraise, O brown of favour! Thy colour is that of the buffalo, and all souls shudder at thy sight. If thy colour be in aught, it is blamed; if it be in food, it is poisoned; for thy colour is that of flies and is a mark of ugliness in dogs. It is, among colours, one which strikes with amazement and is of the signs of mourning. Never heard I of brown gold or brown pearls or brown jewels. If thou enter the wardrobe, thy colour changes, and when thou comest out, thou addest a new ugliness to thine ugliness. Thou art neither black, that thou mayst be known, nor white, that thou mayst be described; and there is no good quality in thee, even as saith of thee the poet:

As a complexion unto her, the hue of soot doth serve; Her mirky
     colour is as dust on couriers' feet upcast.
No sooner fall mine eyes on her, thou but a moment's space, Than
     troubles and misgivings straight beset me thick and fast."

"Enough," said her master. "Sit down." So she sat down and he signed to the brunette. Now she was endowed with grace and beauty and symmetry and perfection, delicate of body, with coal-back hair, slender shape, rosy, oval cheeks, liquid black eyes, fair face, eloquent tongue, slim waist and heavy buttocks. So she rose and said, "Praised be God who hath created me neither blameably fat nor lankily slender, neither white like leprosy nor yellow like colic nor black like coal, but hath made my colour to be beloved of men of wit; for all the poets praise brunettes in every tongue and exalt their colour over all others. Brown of hue, praiseworthy of qualities; and God bless him who saith:

In the brunettes a meaning is, couldst read its writ aright,
     Thine eyes would never again look on others, red or white.
Free-flowing speech and amorous looks would teach Harout[FN#47]
     himself The arts of sorcery and spells of magic and of
     might.

And saith another:

Give me brunettes; the Syrian spears, so limber and so
     straight, Tell of the slender dusky maids, so lithe and
     proud of gait.
Languid of eyelids, with a down like silk upon her cheek,
     Within her wasting lover's heart she queens it still in
     state.

And yet another:

Yea, by my life, such virtues in goodly brownness lie, One spot
     thereof makes whiteness the shining moons outvie;
But if the like of whiteness is borrowed, then, for sure, Its
     beauty were transmuted unto reproach thereby.
Not with her wine[FN#48] I'm drunken, but with her
     tresses[FN#49] bright That make all creatures drunken that
     dwell beneath the sky.
Each of her charms doth envy the others; yea, and each To be
     the down so silky upon her cheek doth sigh.

And again:

Why should I not incline me unto the silken down On the cheeks
     of a dusky maiden, like the cane straight and brown,
Seeing the spot of beauty in waterlilies' cups Is of the poets
     fabled to be all beauty's crown?
Yea, and I see all lovers the swarthy-coloured mole, Under the
     ebon pupil, do honour and renown.
Why, then, do censors blame me for loving one who's all A mole?
     May Allah rid me of every railing clown!

My form is beautiful and my shape slender; kings desire my colour and all love it, rich and poor. I am pleasant, nimble, handsome, elegant, soft of body and great of price. I am perfect in beauty and breeding and eloquence; my aspect is comely and my tongue fluent, my habit light and my sport graceful. As for thee, [O yellow girl,] thou art like unto a mallow of Bab el Louc, yellow and made all of sulphur. Perdition to thee, O pennyworth of sorrel, O rust of copper, O owl's face and food of the damned! Thy bedfellow, for oppression of spirit, is buried in the tombs, and there is no good thing in thee, even as saith the poet of the like of thee:

Paleness[FN#50] is sore on her, for all no illness doth her
     fret; My breast is straitened by its sight; ay, and my
     head aches yet.
If thou repent thee not, my soul, to punish thee, I vow, I'll
     humble thee with a kiss of her face, my teeth on edge
     shall set."

"Enough," said her master; "sit down." Then he made peace between them and clad them all in sumptuous dresses of honour and handselled them with precious jewels of land and sea. And never, O Commander of the Faithful, in any place or time have I seen fairer than these six fair damsels.'

When the Khalif El Mamoun heard this story from Mohammed of Bassora, he said to him, 'O Mohammed, knowest thou the abiding-place of these damsels and their master, and canst thou make shift to buy them of him for us?' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered he, 'I have heard that their master is wrapped up in them and cannot endure to be parted from them.' 'Take threescore thousand dinars, —that is, ten thousand for each girl,—' rejoined the Khalif, 'and go to his house and buy them of him.' So Mohammed took the money and betaking himself to the man of Yemen, acquainted him with the Khalif's wish. He consented to sell them at that price, to pleasure him, and despatched them to El Mamoun, who assigned them an elegant lodging and used to sit with them therein, marvelling at their beauty and grace, no less than at their varied colours and the excellence of their speech.

After awhile, when their former owner could no longer endure separation from them, he sent a letter to the Khalif, complaining of his ardent love for them and containing, amongst the rest, the following verses:

Six damsels fair and bright have captivated me; My blessing and
     my peace the six fair maidens greet!
My life, indeed, are they, my hearing and my sight, Yea, and my
     very drink, my pleasance and my meat.
No other love can bring me solace for their charms, And
     slumber, after them, no more to me is sweet.
Alas, my long regret, my weeping for their loss! Would I have
     ne'er been born, to know this sore defeat!
For eyes, bedecked and fair with brows like bended bows, Have
     smitten me to death with arrows keen and fleet.

When the letter came to El Mamoun's hands, he clad the six damsels in rich apparel and giving them threescore thousand dinars, sent them back to their master, who rejoiced in them with an exceeding joy,—more by token of the money they brought him,—and abode with them in all delight and pleasance of life, till there came to them the Destroyer of Delights and the Sunderer of Companies.

HAROUN ER RASHID AND THE DAMSEL AND ABOU NUWAS.

The Khalif Haroun er Reshid, being one night exceeding restless and oppressed with melancholy thought, went out and walked about his palace, till he came to a chamber, over whose doorway hung a curtain. He raised the curtain and saw, at the upper end of the room, a bed, on which lay something black, as it were a man asleep, with a candle on his right hand and another on his left and by his side a flagon of old wine, over against which stood the cup. The Khalif wondered at this, saying, 'How came yonder black by this wine-service?' Then, drawing near the bed, he found that it was a girl asleep there, veiled with her hair, and uncovering her face, saw that it was like the moon on the night of her full. So he filled a cup of wine and drank it to the roses of her cheeks; then bent over her and kissed a mole on her face, whereupon she awoke and cried out, saying, 'O Trusty One of God,[FN#51], what is to do?' 'A guest who knocks at thy dwelling by night,' replied the Khalif, '[hoping] that thou wilt give him hospitality till the dawn.' 'It is well,' answered she; 'I will grace the guest with my hearing and my sight.'

So she brought the wine and they drank it together; after which she took the lute and tuning it, preluded in one-and-twenty modes, then returning to the first, struck a lively measure and sang the following verses:

The tongue of passion in my heart bespeaks thee for my soul,
     Telling I love thee with a love that nothing can control.
I have an eye, that testifies unto my sore disease, And eke a
     heart with parting wrung, a-throb for love and dole.
Indeed, I cannot hide the love that frets my life away; Longing
     increases still on me, my tears for ever roll.
Ah me, before the love of thee, I knew not what love was; But
     God's decree must have its course on every living soul.

Then said she, 'O Commander of the Faithful, I am a wronged woman.' 'How so?' quoth he, 'and who hath wronged thee?' She answered, 'Thy son bought me awhile ago, for ten thousand dirhems, meaning to give me to thee; but the daughter of thine uncle[FN#52] sent him the price aforesaid and bade him shut me up from thee in this chamber.' Whereupon, 'Ask a boon of me,' said the Khalif; and she, 'I ask thee to lie to-morrow night with me.' 'If it be the will of God,' replied the Khalif, and leaving her, went away.

Next morning, he repaired to his sitting-room and called for Abou Nuwas, but found him not and sent his chamberlain to seek for him. The chamberlain found him in pawn, in a tavern, for a score of a thousand dirhems, that he had spent on a certain boy, and questioned him. So he told him what had befallen him with the boy and how he had spent a thousand dirhems upon him; whereupon quoth the chamberlain, 'Show him to me; and if he be worth this, thou art excused.' 'Wait awhile,' replied the poet, 'and thou shalt see him presently.' As they were talking, up came the boy, clad in a white tunic, under which was another of red and yet another of black. When Abou Nuwas saw him, he sighed and repeated the following verses:

To me he appeared in a garment of white, His eyes and his
     eyelids with languor bedight.
Quoth I, "Dost thou pass and salutest me not? Though God knows
     thy greeting were sweet to my spright.
Be He blessed who mantled with roses thy cheeks, Who creates,
     without let, what He will, of His might!"
"Leave prating," he answered; "for surely my Lord Is wondrous
     of working, sans flaw or dissight.
Yea, truly, my garment is even as my face And my fortune, each
     white upon white upon white."

When the boy heard this, he put off the white tunic and appeared in the red one; whereupon Abou Nuwas redoubled in expressions of admiration and repeated the following verses:

Appeared in a garment, the colour of flame, A foeman of mine,
     "The beloved," by name.
"Thou'rt a full moon," I said in my wonder, "And com'st In a
     garment that putteth the roses to shame.
Hath the red of thy cheek clad that vest upon thee Or in
     heart's blood of lovers hast tinctured the same?"
Quoth he, "'Twas the sun lately gave me the wede; From the
     rubicund hue of his setting it came.
So my garment and wine and the colour so clear Of my cheek are
     as flame upon flame upon flame."

Then the boy doffed the red tunic and abode in the black; whereupon Abou Nuwas redoubled in attention to him and repeated the following verses:

He came in a tunic all sable of hue And shone out, thus veiled
     in the dark, to men's view.
"Thou passest," quoth I, "without greeting, and thus Givest
     cause to exult to the rancorous crew.
Thy garment resembles thy locks and my lot, Yea, blackness and
     blackness and blackness thereto."

Then the chamberlain returned to Haroun er Reshid and acquainted him with the poet's predicament, whereupon he bade him take a thousand dirhems and go and take him out of pawn. So he returned to Abou Nuwas and paying his score, carried him to the Khalif, who said, 'Make me some verses containing the words, "O Trusty One of God, what is to do?"' 'I hear and obey, O Commander of the Faithful,' answered he and improvised the following verses:

My night was long for sleeplessness and care. Weary I was and
     many my thoughts were.
I rose and walked awhile in my own place, Then midst the
     harem's cloistered courts did fare,
Until I chanced on somewhat black and found It was a damsel
     shrouded in her hair.
God bless her for a shining moon! Her shape A willow-wand, and
     pudour veiled the fair.
I quaffed a cup to her; then, drawing near, I kissed the mole
     upon her cheek so rare.
She woke and swayed about in her amaze, Even as the branch
     sways in the rain-fraught air;
Then rose and said, "O Trusty One of God, What is to do, and
     thou, what dost thou there?"
"A guest", quoth I, "that sues to thee, by night, For shelter
     till the hour of morning-prayer."
"Gladly," she said; "with hearing and with sight To grace the
     guest, my lord, I will not spare."

'Confound thee!' cried the Khalif. 'It is as if thou hadst been present with us.' Then he took him by the hand and carried him to the damsel, who was clad in a dress and veil of blue. When Abou Nuwas saw her, he was profuse in expressions of admiration and recited the following verses:

Say to the lovely maid, i' the veil of azure dight, "By Allah,
     O my life, have pity on my plight!
For when the fair entreats her lover cruelly, Sighs of all
     longing rend his bosom day and night.
So, by thy charms and by the whiteness of thy cheek, Have ruth
     upon a heart for love consumed outright.
Incline to him and be his stay 'gainst stress of love, Nor let
     what fools may say find favour in thy sight."

Then the damsel set wine before the Khalif and taking the lute, played a lively measure and sang the following verses:

Wilt thou be just in thy love to others and deal with me
     Unjustly and put me away, while others have joy in thee?
Were there for lovers a judge, to whom I might complain Of
     thee, he would do me justice and judge with equity.
If thou forbid me to pass thy door, yet from afar To greet thee
     and to bless, at least, I shall be free.

The Khalif bade her ply Abou Nuwas with wine, till he lost his wits; when he gave him a full cup, and he drank a draught of it and held the cup in his hand. Er Reshid bade the girl take the cup from him and conceal it; so she took it and hid it between her thighs. Then he drew his sword and standing at the poet's head, pricked him with the point; whereupon he awoke and saw the Khalif standing over him, with a drawn sword. At this sight the fumes of the wine fled from his head and the Khalif said to him, 'Make me some verses and tell me therein what is come of thy cup; or I will cut off thy head.' So he improvised the following verses:

My tale, indeed is hard to tell: The thief was none but yon
     gazelle.
She stole my cup of wine, whereof My lips had drunken but one
     spell,
And hid it in a place, for which My heart's desire's
     unspeakable.
I name it not, for awe of him, In whom the right thereof doth
     dwell.

'Confound thee!' quoth the Khalif. 'How knewst thou that? But we accept what thou sayst.' Then he ordered him a dress of honour and a thousand dinars, and he went away, rejoicing.

THE MAN WHO STOLE THE DISH OF GOLD IN WHICH THE DOG ATE.

There was once a man, who was overborne with debt, and his case was straitened upon him, so that he left his people and family and went forth in distraction. He wandered on at random till he came to a high-walled and splendidly built city and entered it in a state of wretchedness and despair, gnawed with hunger and worn with the toil of his journey. As he passed through one of the streets, he saw a company of notables going along; so he followed them, till they entered a house like to a royal palace. He entered with them, and they stayed not till they came in presence of a man of the most dignified and majestic aspect, seated at the upper end of a saloon and surrounded by pages and servants, as he were of the sons of the Viziers. When he saw the visitors, he rose and received them with honour; but the poor man was confounded at the goodliness of the place and the crowd of servants and attendants and drawing back, in fear and perplexity, sat down apart in a place afar off, where none should see him.

After awhile, in came a man with four hunting-dogs, clad in various kinds of silk and brocade and having on their necks collars of gold with chains of silver, and tied up each dog in a place set apart for him; after which he went out and presently returned with four dishes of gold, full of rich meats, one of which he set before each dog. Then he went away and left them, whilst the poor man began to eye the food, for stress of hunger, and would fain have gone up to one of the dogs and eaten with him; but fear of them withheld him. Presently, one of the dogs looked at him and God the Most High inspired him with a knowledge of his case; so he drew back from the platter and beckoned to the man, who came and ate, till he was satisfied. Then he would have withdrawn, but the dog pushed the dish towards him with his paw, signing to him to take it and what was left in it for himself. So the man took the dish and leaving the house, went his way, and none followed him. Then he journeyed to another city, where he sold the dish and buying goods with the price, returned to his own town. There he sold his stock and paid his debts; and he prospered and became rich and at his ease.

After some years had passed, he said to himself, 'Needs must I repair to the city of the owner of the dish, which the dog bestowed on me, and carry him its price, together with a fit and handsome present.' So he took the price of the dish and a suitable present and setting out, journeyed night and day, till he came to the city and entering, went straight to the place where the man's house had been; but lo, he found there nothing but mouldering ruins and dwelling-places laid waste, over which the raven croaked; for the place was desert and the environs changed out of knowledge. At this, his heart and soul were troubled and he repeated the words of him who saith:

The privy chambers are void of all their hidden store, As
     hearts of the fear of God and the virtues all of yore.
Changed is the vale and strange to me are its gazelles, And
     those I knew of old its sandhills are no more.

And those of another:

The phantom of Saada came to me by night, near the break of
     day, And roused me, whenas my comrades all in the desert
     sleeping lay.
But, when I awoke to the dream of the night, that came to visit
     me, I found the air void and the wonted place of our
     rendezvous far away.

When he saw what the hand of time had manifestly done with the place, leaving but traces of the things that had been aforetime, the testimony of his eyes made it needless for him to enquire of the case; so he turned away and seeing a wretched man, in a plight that made the skin quake and would have moved the very rock to pity, said to him, 'Harkye, sirrah! What have time and fortune done with the master of this place? Where are his shining full moons[FN#53] and splendid stars;[FN#54] and what is the cause of the ruin that is come upon his abode, so that but the walls thereof remain?' Quoth the other, 'He is the miserable wretch thou seest bewailing that which hath befallen him. Knowest thou not the words of the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve), wherein is a lesson to him who will profit by it and an admonition to whoso will be guided thereby in the right way? "Verily it is the way of God the Most High to raise up nothing of this world, except He cast it down again." If thou enquire of the cause of this thing, indeed, it is no wonder, considering the vicissitudes of fortune. I was the master of this place and its builder and founder and owner and lord of its shining full moons and radiant damsels and of all its splendid circumstance an magnificent garniture; but Fortune turned and did away from me wealth and servants, overwhelming me unawares with disasters unforeseen and bringing me to this sorry plight. But there must needs be some reason for this thy question: tell it me and leave wondering.'

So the other told him the whole story, sore concerned at what he heard and saw, and added, 'I have brought thee a present such as souls desire, and the price of thy dish of gold, that I took; for it was the cause of my becoming rich, after poverty, and of the reinstating of my dwelling-place, after desolation, and of the doing away of my trouble and straitness from me.' But the poor man shook his head, groaning and weeping and lamenting, and answered, 'O man, methinks thou art mad; for this is not the fashion of a man of understanding. How should a dog of mine make gift to thee of a dish of gold and I receive back its price? This were indeed a strange thing! By Allah, were I in the straitest misery and unease, I would not accept of thee aught, no, not the worth of a nail-paring! So return whence thou camest, in health and safety.'

The merchant kissed his feet and taking leave of him, returned whence he came, praising him and reciting the following verse:

The men and eke the dogs are gone and vanished all. Peace be
     upon the men and dogs, whate'er befall!

THE SHARPER OF ALEXANDRIA AND THE MASTER OF POLICE.

There was once, in the coast-fortress of Alexandria, a Master of Police, Husameddin by name, who was one night sitting in his seat of office, when there came in to him a trooper, who said to him, 'Know, O my lord, that I entered the city this night and alighted at such a khan and slept there, till a third part of the night was past, when I awoke and found my saddle-bags cut open and a purse of a thousand dinars stolen from them.' No sooner had he done speaking than the magistrate called his officers and bade them lay hands on all in the khan and clap them in prison till the morning; and on the morrow, he caused bring the instruments of torment and sending for the prisoners, was about to torture them, [to make them confess], in the presence of the owner of the stolen money, when, behold, a man pressed through the crowd and coming up to the chief of the police, said, 'O Amir, let these folk go, for they are wrongly accused. It was I who robbed the trooper, and here is the purse I stole from his saddle-bags.' So saying, he pulled out the purse from his sleeve and laid it before Husameddin, who said to the soldier, 'Take thy money; thou hast no ground of complaint now against the people of the khan.' Thereupon the latter and all who were present fell to blessing the thief and praising him; but he said, 'O Amir, the skill is not in that I came to thee and brought thee the purse, but in taking it a second time from the trooper.' 'And how didst thou take it, O sharper?' asked Husameddin.

'O Amir,' replied the thief, 'I was standing in the money-changers' bazaar at Cairo, when I saw yonder man receive the gold and put it in his purse; so I followed him from street to street, but found no occasion of stealing it from him. Then he left Cairo and I followed him from place to place, casting about by the way to rob him, but without avail, till he entered this city and I followed him to the khan. I took up my lodging beside him and watched him till he fell asleep and I heard him snoring, when I went softly up to him and cutting open his saddlebags with this knife, took the purse thus—'

So saying, he put out his hand and took the purse from before the chief of the police, whilst the latter and the trooper and the folk drew back, watching him and thinking he would show them how he took the purse from the saddle-bags; but, of a sudden, he broke into a run and threw himself into a reservoir hard by. The chief of the police called to his officers to pursue him, but before they could put off their clothes and descend the steps, he had made off; and they sought for him, but found him not; for the streets of Alexandria all communicate one with another. So they came back, empty-handed, and the chief of the police said to the trooper, 'Thou hast no recourse against the folk; for thou foundest him who robbed thee and receivedst back thy money, but didst not keep it.' So the trooper went away, having lost his money, whilst the folk were delivered from his hands and those of the chief of the police; and all this was of the favour of God the Most High.

EL MELIK EN NASIR AND THE THREE MASTERS OF POLICE.

El Melik en Nasir[FN#55] once sent for the chiefs of the police of New Cairo, Boulac and Old Cairo and said to them, 'I wish each of you to tell me the most remarkable thing that hath befallen him during his term of office.' 'We hear and obey,' answered they. Then said the chief of the police of New Cairo, 'O our lord the Sultan, the most remarkable thing that befell me, during my term of office, was on this wise:

Story of the Chief of the Police of New Cairo.

There were once, in this city, two men apt to bear witness in matters of blood and wounds; but they were both given to wine and women and debauchery; nor, do what I would, could I succeed in bringing them to account. So I charged the vintners and confectioners and fruiterers and chandlers and bagnio-keepers to acquaint me of these two, when ever they should anywhere be engaged in drinking or debauchery, whether together or apart, and that, if they or either of them bought of them aught for the purpose of carousal, they should not conceal it from me. And they replied, "We hear and obey."

One night, a man came to me and said, "O my lord, know that the two witnesses are in such a house in such a street, engaged in sore wickedness." So I disguised myself and went out, accompanied by none but my page, to the street in question. When I came to the house, I knocked at the door, whereupon a slave-girl came out and opened to me, saying, "Who art thou?" I made her no answer, but entered and saw the two witnesses and the master of the house sitting, and lewd women with them, and great plenty of wine before them. When they saw me, they rose to receive me, without showing the least alarm, and made much of me, seating me in the place of honour and saying to me, "Welcome for an illustrious guest and a pleasant cup-companion!"

Presently, the master of the house went out and returning after awhile with three hundred dinars, said to me, without the least fear, "O my lord, it is, we know, in thy power both to disgrace and punish us; but this will bring thee nothing but weariness. So thou wouldst do better to take this money and protect us; for God the Most High is named the Protector and loveth those of His servants who protect each other; and thou shalt have thy reward in the world to come." The money tempted me and I said in myself, "I will take the money and protect them this once; but, if ever again I have them in my power, I will take my wreak of them."

So I took the money and went away; but, next day, one of the Cadi's serjeants came to me and cited me before the court. I accompanied him thither, knowing not the meaning of the summons; and when I came into the Cadi's presence, I saw the two witnesses and the master of the house sitting by him. The latter rose and sued me for three hundred dinars, nor was it in my power to deny the debt; for he produced a written obligation and the two others testified against me that I owed the amount.

Their evidence satisfied the Cadi and he ordered me to pay the money; nor did I leave the Court till they had of me the three hundred dinars. So I went away, in the utmost wrath and confusion, vowing vengeance against them and repenting that I had not punished them.'

Then rose the chief of the Boulac police and said, 'As for me, O our lord the Sultan, the most remarkable thing that befell me, during my term of office, was as follows:

Story of the Chief of the Boulac Police.

I was once in debt to the amount of three hundred thousand dinars, and being distressed thereby, I sold what was behind me and what was before me and all I could lay my hands on, but could raise no more than a hundred thousand dinars and abode in great perplexity. One night, as I sat at home, in this state of mind, there came a knocking at the gate; so I said to one of my servants, "See who is at the door." He went out and returned, pale and trembling in every nerve; so I said to him, "What ails thee?" "There is a man at the door, seeking thee," answered he. "He is half naked, clad in skins, with a sword and a knife in his girdle, and with him are a company of the same fashion." So I took my sword and going out to see who these were, found them as the boy had reported and said to them, "What is your business?" "We are thieves," answered they, "and have made great purchase to-night and appointed it to thy use, that thou mayst pay therewith the debts that oppress thee and free thyself from thy distress." "Where is it?" asked I; and they brought me a great chest, full of vessels of gold and silver; which when I saw, I rejoiced and said in myself, "It were ungenerous to let them go away empty-handed."

So I took the hundred thousand dinars I had by me and gave it to them, thanking them; and they took it and went their way, under cover of the night. But, on the morrow, when I examined the contents of the chest, I found them gilded brass and pewter, worth five hundred dirhems at the most; and this was grievous to me, for I had lost what money I had, and trouble was added to my trouble.'

Then rose the chief of the police of Old Cairo and said, 'O our lord the Sultan, the most remarkable thing that befell me, during my term of office, was on this wise:

Story of the Chief of the Old Cairo Police

I once had ten thieves hanged, each on his own gibbet, and set guards to watch them and hinder the folk from taking them down. Next morning, when I came to look at them, I found two bodies hanging from one gibbet and said to the guards, "Who did this, and where is the tenth gibbet?" But they denied all knowledge of it, and I was about to beat them, when they said, "Know, O Amir, that we fell asleep last night, and when we awoke, we found one of the bodies gone, gibbet and all, whereat we were alarmed, fearing thy wrath. But, presently, up came a peasant, jogging along on his ass; so we laid hands on him and killing him, hung his body upon this gibbet, in the stead of the missing thief."

When I heard this, I marvelled and said to them, "Had he aught with him?" "He had a pair of saddle-bags on the ass," answered they. "What was in them?" asked I and they said, "We know not." Quoth I, "Bring them hither." So they brought them to me and I bade open them, when, behold, therein was the body of a murdered man, cut in pieces. When I saw this, I marvelled and said in myself, "Glory be to God! The cause of the hanging of this peasant was no other but his crime against this murdered man; and the Lord is no unjust dealer with [His] servants."' [FN#56]

THE THIEF AND THE MONEY-CHANGER

A money-changer, bearing a bag of money, once passed by a company of thieves, and one of the latter said to the others, 'I know how to steal yonder bag of money.' 'How wilt thou do it?' asked they. 'Look,' answered he and followed the money- changer, till he entered his house, when he threw the bag on a shelf and went into the draught-house, to do an occasion, calling to the slave-girl to bring him an ewer of water. So she took the jug and followed him to the draught-house, leaving the door open, whereupon the thief entered and taking the bag of money, made off with it to his companions, to whom he related what had passed. 'By Allah,' said they, 'this was a clever trick! It is not every one could do it: but, presently, the money-changer will come out of the draught-house and missing the bag of money, will beat the slave-girl and torture her grievously. Meseems thou hast at present done nothing worthy of praise; but, if thou be indeed a sharper, thou wilt return and save the girl from being beaten.' 'If it be the will of God,' answered the thief, 'I will save both the girl and the purse.'

Then he went back to the money-changer's house and found him beating the girl, because of the bag of money; so he knocked at the door and the man said, 'Who is there? Quoth the thief, 'I am the servant of thy neighbour in the bazaar.' So he came out to him and said, 'What is thy business?' 'My master salutes thee,' replied the thief, 'and says to thee, "Surely, thou art mad to cast the like of this bag of money down at the door of thy shop and go away and leave it! Had a stranger chanced on it, he had made off with it." And except my master had seen it and taken care of it, it had been lost to thee.' So saying, he pulled out the purse and showed it to the money-changer, who said, 'That is indeed my purse,' and put out his hand to take it; but the thief said, 'By Allah, I will not give it thee, till thou write me a receipt; for I fear my master will not believe that thou hast duly received the purse, except I bring him a writing to that effect, under thy hand and seal.' So the money-changer went in to write the receipt; but, in the meantime, the thief made off with the bag of money, having [thus] saved the slave-girl her beating.

THE CHIEF OF THE COUS POLICE AND THE SHARPER

It is related that Alaeddin, chief of the police of Cous[FN#57], was sitting one night in his house, when a man of comely aspect and dignified port, followed by a servant bearing a chest upon his head, came to the door and said to one of the young men, 'Go in and tell the Amir that I would speak with him privily.' So the servant went in and told his master, who bade admit the visitor. When he entered the Amir saw him to be a man of good appearance and carriage; so he received him with honour, seating him beside himself, and said to him, 'What is thy business?' 'I am a highwayman,' replied the stranger, 'and am minded to repent at thy hands and turn to God the Most High but I would have thee help me to this, for that I am in thy district and under thine eye. I have here a chest, wherein is that which is worth nigh forty thousand dinars; and none hath so good a right to it as thou; so do thou take it and give me in exchange a thousand dinars of thy money, lawfully gotten, that I may have a little capital, to aid me in my repentance, and not be forced to resort to sin for subsistence; and with God the Most High be thy reward!' So saying he opened the chest and showed the Amir that it was full of trinkets and jewels and bullion and pearls, whereat he was amazed and rejoiced greatly. Then he cried out to his treasurer, to bring him a purse of a thousand dinars, and gave it to the highwayman, who thanked him and went his way, under cover of the night.

On the morrow, the Amir sent for the chief of the goldsmiths and showed him the chest and what was therein; but the goldsmith found it nothing but pewter and brass and the jewels and pearls all of glass; at which Alaeddin was sore chagrined and sent in quest of the highwayman; but none could come at him.

IBRAHIM BEN EL MEHDI AND THE MERCHANT'S SISTER.

The Khalif El Mamoun once said to [his uncle] Ibrahim ben el Mehdi, 'Tell us the most remarkable thing that thou hast ever seen.' 'I hear and obey, O Commander of the Faithful,' answered he. 'Know that I went out one day, a-pleasuring, and my course brought me to a place where I smelt the odour of food. My soul longed for it and I halted, perplexed and unable either to go on or enter. Presently, I raised my eyes and saw a lattice window and behind it a hand and wrist, the like of which for beauty I never saw. The sight turned my brain and I forgot the smell of the food and began to cast about how I should get access to the house. After awhile, I espied a tailor hard by and going up to him, saluted him. He returned my greeting and I said to him, "Whose house is that?" "It belongs to a merchant called such an one," answered he, "who consorteth with none but merchants."

As we were talking, up came two men of comely and intelligent aspect, riding on horseback; and the tailor told me their names and that they were the merchant's most intimate friends. So I spurred my horse towards them and said to them, "May I be your ransom! Abou such an one[FN#58] waits for you!" And I rode with them to the gate, where I entered and they also. When the master of the house saw me, he doubted not but I was their friend; so he welcomed me and made me sit down in the highest room. Then they brought the table of food and I said, "God hath granted me my desire of the food; and now there remain the hand and wrist." After awhile, we removed, for carousal, to another room, which I found full of all manner of rarities; and the host paid me particular attention, addressing his conversation to me, for that he deemed me a guest of his guests; whilst the latter, in like manner, made much of me, taking me for a friend of the master of the house.

When we had drunk several cups of wine, there came in to us a damsel of the utmost beauty and elegance, as she were a willow-wand, who took a lute and playing a lively measure, sang the following verses:

Is it not passing strange, indeed, one house should hold us
     tway And still thou drawst not near to me nor yet a word
     dost say,
Except the secrets of the souls and hearts that broken be And
     entrails blazing in the fires of love, the eye bewray
With meaning looks and knitted brows and eyelids languishing
     And hands that salutation sign and greeting thus convey?

When I heard this, my entrails were stirred and I was moved to delight, for the excess of her grace and the beauty of the verses she sang; and I envied her her skill and said, "There lacketh somewhat to thee, O damsel!" Whereupon she threw the lute from her hand, in anger, and cried, "Since when do you use to bring ill-mannered fools into your assemblies?" Then I repented of what I had done, seeing that the others were vexed with me, and said in myself, "My hopes are at an end;" and I saw no way of quitting myself of reproach but to call for a lute, saying, "I will show you what escaped her in the air she sang." So they brought me a lute and I tuned it and sang the following verses:

This is thy lover distraught, absorbed in his passion and pain;
     Thy lover, the tears of whose eyes run down on his body
     like rain.
One hand to his heart ever pressed, whilst the other the
     Merciful One Imploreth, so He of His grace may grant him
     his hope to attain.
O thou, that beholdest a youth for passion that's perished,
     thine eye And thy hand are the cause of his death and yet
     might restore him again.

When the damsel heard this, she sprang up and throwing herself at my feet, kissed them and said, "It is thine to excuse, O my lord! By Allah, I knew not thy quality nor heard I ever the like of this fashion!" And they all extolled me and made much of me, being beyond measure delighted, and besought me to sing again. So I sang a lively air, whereupon they all became as drunken men, and their wits left them. Then the guests departed to their homes and I abode alone with the host and the girl. The former drank some cups with me, then said to me, "O my lord, my life hath been wasted, in that I have not known the like of thee till now. By Allah, then, tell me who thou art, that I may know who is the boon-companion whom God hath bestowed on me this night."

I would not at first tell him my name and returned him evasive answers; but he conjured me, till I told him who I was; whereupon he sprang to his feet and said, "Indeed, I wondered that such excellence should belong to any but the like of thee; and Fortune hath done me a service for which I cannot avail to thank her. But, belike, this is a dream; for how could I hope that the family of the Khalifate should visit me in my own house and carouse with me this night?" I conjured him to be seated; so he sat down and began to question me, in the most courteous terms, as to the cause of my visit. So I told him the whole matter, concealing nothing, and said to him, "Verily, I have had my desire of the food, but not of the hand and wrist." Quoth he, "Thou shalt have thy desire of them also, so God will." Then said he to the slave-girl, "Bid such an one come down." And he called his slave-girls down, one by one and showed them to me; but I saw not my mistress among them, and he said, "O my lord, there is none left save my mother and sister; but, by Allah, I must needs have them also down and show them to thee."

I marvelled at his courtesy and large-heartedness and said, "May I be thy ransom! Begin with thy sister." "Willingly," replied he. So she came down and behold, it was she whose hand and wrist I had seen. "May God make me thy ransom!" said I. "This is the damsel whose hand and wrist I saw at the lattice." Then he sent at once for witnesses and bringing out two myriads of dinars, said to the witnesses, "This our lord Ibrahim ben el Mehdi, uncle of the Commander of the Faithful, seeks the hand of my sister such an one, and I call you to witness that I marry her to him and that he has endowed her with a dowry of ten thousand dinars." And he said to me, "I give thee my sister in marriage, at the dowry aforesaid." "I consent," answered I. Whereupon he gave one of the bags to her and the other to the witnesses, and said to me, "O my lord, I desire to array a chamber for thee; where thou mayst lie with thy wife." But I was abashed at his generosity and was ashamed to foregather with her in his house; so I said, "Equip her and send her to my house." And by thy life, O Commander of the Faithful, he sent me such an equipage with her, that my house was too strait to hold it, for all its greatness! And I begot on her this boy that stands before thee.'

The Khalif marvelled at the merchant's generosity and said, 'Gifted of God is he! Never heard I of his like.' And he bade Ibrahim bring him to court, that he might see him. So he brought him and the Khalif conversed with him; and his wit and good breeding so pleased him, that he made him one of his chief officers.

THE WOMAN WHOSE HANDS WERE CUT OFF FOR THAT SHE GAVE ALMS TO THE POOR.

A certain King once made proclamation to the people of his realm, saying, 'If any of you give alms of aught, I will assuredly cut off his hand;' wherefore all the people abstained from alms-giving, and none could give to any.

One day a beggar accosted a certain woman (and indeed hunger was sore upon him) and said to her, 'Give me an alms.' 'How can I give thee aught,' answered she, 'when the King cutteth off the hands of all who give alms?' But he said, 'I conjure thee by God the Most High, give me an alms.' So, when he adjured her by God, she had compassion on him and gave him two cakes of bread. The King heard of this; so he called her before him and cut off her hands, after which she returned to her house.

A while after, the King said to his mother, 'I have a mind to take a wife; so do thou marry me to a fair woman.' Quoth she, 'There is among our female slaves one who is unsurpassed in beauty; but she hath a grievous blemish.' 'What is that?' asked the King; and his mother answered, 'She hath had both her hands cut off.' Said he, 'Let me see her.' So she brought her to him, and he was ravished by her and married her and went in to her; and she brought him a son.

Now this was the woman, who had her hands cut off for alms-giving; and when she became queen, her fellow-wives envied her and wrote to the King [who was then absent] that she was unchaste; so he wrote to his mother, bidding her carry the woman into the desert and leave her there. The old queen obeyed his commandment and abandoned the woman and her son in the desert; whereupon she fell to weeping and wailing exceeding sore for that which had befallen her. As she went along, with the child at her neck, she came to a river and knelt down to drink, being overcome with excess of thirst, for fatigue and grief; but, as she bent her head, the child fell into the water.

Then she sat weeping sore for her child, and as she wept, there came up two men, who said to her, 'What makes thee weep?' Quoth she, 'I had a child at my neck, and he hath fallen into the water.' 'Wilt thou that we bring him out to thee?' asked they, and she answered, 'Yes.' So they prayed to God the Most High, and the child came forth of the water to her, safe and sound. Quoth they, 'Wilt thou that God restore thee thy hands as they were?' 'Yes,' replied she: whereupon they prayed to God, blessed and exalted be He! and her hands were restored to her, goodlier than before. Then said they, 'Knowst thou who we are?' 'God [only] is all-knowing,' answered she; and they said, 'We are thy two cakes of bread, that thou gavest in alms to the beggar and which were the cause of the cutting off of thy hands. So praise thou God the Most High, for that He hath restored thee thy hands and thy child.' So she praised God the Most High and glorified Him.

THE DEVOUT ISRAELITE.

There was once a devout man of the children of Israel[FN#59], whose family span cotton; and he used every day to sell the yarn they span and buy fresh cotton, and with the profit he bought the day's victual for his household. One day, he went out and sold the day's yarn as usual, when there met him one of his brethren, who complained to him of want; so he gave him the price of the yarn and returned, empty-handed, to his family, who said to him, 'Where is the cotton and the food?' Quoth he, 'Such an one met me and complained to me of want; so I gave him the price of the yarn.' And they said, 'How shall we do? We have nothing to sell.' Now they had a broken platter and a jar; so he took them to the market; but none would buy them of him.

Presently, as he stood in the market, there came up a man with a stinking, swollen fish, which no one would buy of him, and he said to the Jew, 'Wilt thou sell me thine unsaleable ware for mine?' 'Yes,' answered the Jew and giving him the jar and platter, took the fish and carried it home to his family, who said, 'What shall we do with this fish?' Quoth he, 'We will broil it and eat of it, till it please God to provide for us.' So they took it and ripping open its belly, found therein a great pearl and told the Jew, who said, 'See if it be pierced. If so, it belongs to some one of the folk; if not, it is a provision of God for us.' So they examined it and found it unpierced.

On the morrow, the Jew carried it to one of his brethren, who was skilled in jewels, and he said, 'Whence hadst thou this pearl?' 'It was a gift of God the Most High to us,' replied the Jew, and the other said, 'It is worth a thousand dirhems, and I will give thee that sum; but take it to such an one, for he hath more money and skill than I.' So the Jew took it to the jeweller, who said, 'It is worth threescore and ten thousand dirhems and no more. Then he paid him that sum and the Jew hired two porters to carry the money to his house. As he came to his door, a beggar accosted him, saying, 'Give me of that which God the Most High hath given thee.' Quoth the Jew, 'But yesterday, we were even as thou; take half the money.' So he made two parts of it, and each took his half. Then said the beggar, 'Take back thy money and God prosper thee in it; I am a messenger, whom thy Lord hath sent to try thee.' Quoth the Jew, 'To God be the praise and the thanks!' and abode with his family in all delight of life, till death.

ABOU HASSAN EZ ZIYADI AND THE MAN FROM KHORASSAN.

Quoth Abou Hassan ez Ziyadi[FN#60], 'I was once in very needy case, and the baker and grocer and other purveyors importuned me, so that I was in sore straits and knew of no resource nor what to do. Things being thus, there came in to me one day one of my servants and said to me, "There is a man, a pilgrim, at the door, who seeks admission to thee." Quoth I, "Admit him." So he came in and behold, he was a native of Khorassan. We exchanged salutations and he said to me, "Art thou Abou Hassan ez Ziyadi?" "Yes," answered I. "What is thy business?" Quoth he, "I am a stranger and am minded to make the pilgrimage; but I have with me a great sum of money, which is burdensome to me. So I wish to deposit with thee these ten thousand dirhems, whilst I make the pilgrimage and return. If the caravan return and thou see me not, know that I am dead, in which case the money is a gift from me to thee; but if I come back, it shall be mine." "Be it as thou wilt," answered I, "so it please God the Most High." So he brought out a leather bag and I said to the servant, "Fetch the scales." He brought them and the man weighed out the money and handed it to me, after which he went his way. Then I called the tradesmen and paid them what I owed and spent freely, saying in myself, "By the time he returns, God will have succoured me with one or another of His bounties." However, next day, the servant came in to me and said, "Thy friend the man from Khorassan is at the door."

"Admit him," answered I. So he came in and said to me, "I had thought to make the pilgrimage; but news hath reached me of the death of my father, and I have resolved to return; so give me the money I deposited with thee yesterday." When I heard this, I was troubled and perplexed beyond measure and knew not what reply to make him; for, if I denied it, he would put me to my oath, and I should be shamed in the world to come; whilst, if I told him that I had spent the money, he would make an outcry and disgrace me. So I said to him, "God give thee health! This my house is no stronghold nor place of safe custody for this money. When I received thy leather bag, I sent it to one with whom it now is; so do thou return to us to-morrow and take thy money, if it be the will of God."

So he went away, and I passed the night in sore concern, because of his return to me. Sleep visited me not nor could I close my eyes: so I rose and bade the boy saddle me the mule. "O my lord," answered he, "it is yet but the first watch of the night." So I returned to bed, but sleep was forbidden to me and I ceased not to awaken the boy and he to put me off, till break of day, when he saddled me the mule, and I mounted and rode out, not knowing whither to go. I threw the reins on the mule's shoulders and gave myself up to anxiety and melancholy thought, whilst she fared on with me to the eastward of Baghdad. Presently, as I went along, I saw a number of people in front and turned aside into another path to avoid them; but they, seeing that I wore a professor's hood, followed me and hastening up to me, said, "Knowest thou the lodging of Abou Hassan ez Ziyadi?" "I am he," answered I; and they rejoined, "The Commander of the Faithful calls for thee." Then they carried me before El Mamoun, who said to me, "Who art thou?" Quoth I, "I am a professor of the law and traditions, and one of the associates of the Cadi Abou Yousuf." "How art thou called?" asked the Khalif. "Abou Hassan ez Ziyadi," answered I, and he said, "Expound to me thy case."

So I told him how it was with me and he wept sore and said to me, "Out on thee! The Apostle of God (whom may He bless and preserve) would not let me sleep this night, because of thee; for he appeared to me in my first sleep and said to me, 'Succour Abou Hassan ez Ziyadi.' Whereupon I awoke and knowing thee not, went to sleep again; but he came to me a second time and said to me, 'Woe to thee! Succour Abou Hassan ez Ziyadi.' I awoke a second time, but knew thee not, so went to sleep again; and he came to me a third time and still I knew thee not and went to sleep again. Then he came to me once more and said, 'Out on thee! Succour Abou Hassan ez Ziyadi!' After that I dared not go to sleep again, but watched the rest of the night and aroused my people and sent them in all directions in quest of thee." Then he gave me ten thousand dirhems, saying, "This is for the Khorassani," and other ten thousand, saying, "Spend freely of this and amend thy case therewith, and set thine affairs in order." Moreover, he gave me yet thirty thousand dirhems, saying, "Furnish thyself with this, and when the day of estate comes round, come thou to me, that I may invest thee with an office."

So I took the money and returned home, where I prayed the morning-prayer. Presently came the Khorassani, so I carried him into the house and brought out to him ten thousand dirhems, saying, "Here is thy money." "It is not my very money," answered he. "How cometh this?" So I told him the whole story, and he wept and said, "By Allah, hadst thou told me the truth at first, I had not pressed thee! And now, by Allah, I will not accept aught of the money; and thou art quit of it." So saying, he went away and I set my affairs in order and repaired on the appointed day to the Divan, where I found the Khalif seated. When he saw me, he called me to him and bringing forth to me a paper from under his prayer-carpet, said to me, "This is a patent, conferring on thee the office of Cadi of the western division of the Holy City[FN#61] from the Bab es Selam[FN#62] to the end of the town; and I appoint thee such and such monthly allowances. So fear God (to whom belong might and majesty) and be mindful of the solicitude of His Apostle (whom may He bless and preserve) on thine account." The folk marvelled at the Khalif's words and questioned me of their meaning; so I told them the whole story and it spread abroad amongst the people.'

And [quoth he who tells the tale] Abou Hassan ez Ziyadi ceased not to be Cadi of the Holy City, till he died in the days of El Mamoun, the mercy of God be on him!

THE POOR MAN AND HIS GENEROUS FRIEND.

There was once a rich man, who lost all he had and became poor, whereupon his wife counselled him to seek aid of one of his friends. So he betook himself to a certain friend of his and acquainted him with his strait; and he lent him five hundred dinars to trade withal. Now he had aforetime been a jeweller; so he took the money and went to the jewel-bazaar, where he opened a shop to buy and sell. Presently, three men accosted him, as he sat in his shop, and asked for his father. He told them that he was dead, and they said, 'Did he leave any offspring?' Quoth the jeweller, 'He left a son, your servant.' 'And who knoweth thee for his son?' asked they. 'The people of the bazaar,' replied he; and they said, 'Call them together, that they may testify to us that thou art his son.' So he called them and they bore witness of this; whereupon the three men delivered to him a pair of saddle-bags, containing thirty thousand dinars, besides jewels and bullion, saying, 'This was deposited with us in trust by thy father.' Then they went away; and presently there came to him a woman, who sought of him certain of the jewels, worth five hundred dinars, and paid him three thousand for them.

So he took five hundred dinars and carrying them to his friend, who had lent him the money, said to him, 'Take the five hundred dinars I borrowed of thee; for God hath aided and prospered me.' 'Not so,' quoth the other. 'I gave them to thee outright, for the love of God; so do thou keep them. And take this paper, but read it not, till thou be at home, and do according to that which is therein.' So he took the paper and returned home, where he opened it and read therein the following verses:

The men who came to thee at first my kinsmen were, my sire, His
     brother and my dam's, Salih ben Ali is his name.
Moreover, she to whom thou soldst the goods my mother was, And
     eke the jewels and the gold, from me, to boot, they came;
Nor, in thus ordering myself to thee, aught did I seek Save of
     the taking it from me to spare thee from the shame.

THE RUINED MAN WHO BECAME RICH AGAIN THROUGH A DREAM.

There lived once in Baghdad a very wealthy man, who lost all his substance and became so poor, that he could only earn his living by excessive labour. One night, he lay down to sleep, dejected and sick at heart, and saw in a dream one who said to him, 'Thy fortune is at Cairo; go thither and seek it.' So he set out for Cairo; but, when he arrived there, night overtook him and he lay down to sleep in a mosque. Presently, as fate would have it, a company of thieves entered the mosque and made their way thence into an adjoining house; but the people of the house, being aroused by the noise, awoke and cried out; whereupon the chief of the police came to their aid with his officers. The robbers made off; but the police entered the mosque and finding the man from Baghdad asleep there, laid hold of him and beat him with palm rods, till he was well-nigh dead. Then they cast him into prison, where he abode three days, after which the chief of the police sent for him and said to him, 'Whence art thou?' 'From Baghdad,' answered he. 'And what brought thee to Cairo?' asked the magistrate. Quoth the Baghdadi, 'I saw in a dream one who said to me, "Thy fortune is at Cairo; go thither to it." But when I came hither, the fortune that he promised me proved to be the beating I had of thee.'

The chief of the police laughed, till he showed his jaw-teeth, and said, 'O man of little wit, thrice have I seen in a dream one who said to me, "There is in Baghdad a house of such a fashion and situate so-and-so, in the garden whereof is a fountain and thereunder a great sum of money buried. Go thither and take it." Yet I went not; but thou, of thy little wit, hast journeyed from place to place, on the faith of a dream, which was but an illusion of sleep.' Then he gave him money, saying, 'This is to help thee back to thy native land.' Now the house he had described was the man's own house in Baghdad; so the latter returned thither, and digging underneath the fountain in his garden, discovered a great treasure; and [thus] God gave him abundant fortune.

THE KHALIF EL MUTAWEKKIL AND HIS FAVOURITE MEHBOUBEH.

There were in the palace of the Khalif El Mutawekkil ala Allah [FN#63] four thousand concubines, whereof two thousand were Greeks [and other foreigners] and other two thousand native Arabians[FN#64] and Abyssinians; and Obeid ibn Tahir[FN#65] had given him two hundred white girls and a like number of Abyssinian and native girls[FN#66]. Among these latter was a girl of Bassora, Mehboubeh by name, who was of surpassing beauty and elegance and voluptuous grace. Moreover, she played upon the lute and was skilled in singing and making verses and wrote excellent well; so that El Mutawekkil fell passionately in love with her and could not endure from her a single hour. When she saw this, she presumed upon his favour to use him haughtily and capriciously, so that he waxed exceeding wroth with her and forsook her, forbidding the people of the palace to speak with her.

On this wise she abode some days, but the Khalif still inclined to her; and he arose one morning and said to his courtiers, 'I dreamt, last night, that I was reconciled to Mehboubeh.' 'Would God this might be on wake!' answered they. As they were talking, in came one of the Khalif's maidservants and whispered him that they had heard a noise of singing and luting in Mehboubeh's chamber and knew not what this meant. So he rose and entering the harem, went straight to Mehboubeh's apartment, where he heard her playing wonder-sweetly upon the lute and singing the following verses:

I wander through the halls, but not a soul I see, To whom I may
     complain or who will speak with me.
It is as though I'd wrought so grievous an offence, No
     penitence avails myself therefrom to free.
Will no one plead my cause with a king, who came to me In sleep
     and took me back to favour and to gree;
But with the break of day to rigour did revert And cast me off
     from him and far away did flee?

When the Khalif heard these verses, he marvelled at the strange coincidence of their dreams and entered the chamber. As soon as she was ware of him, she hastened to throw herself at his feet, and kissing them, said, 'By Allah, O my lord, this is what I dreamt last night; and when I awoke, I made the verses thou hast heard.' ''By Allah,' replied El Mutawekkil, 'I also dreamt the like!' Then they embraced and made friends and he abode with her seven days and nights.

Now she had written upon her cheek, in musk, the Khalif's name, which was Jaafer: and when he saw this, he made the following verses:

One wrote on her cheek, with musk, a name, yea, Jaafer to wit:
     My soul be her ransom who wrote on her cheek what I see on
     it!
If her fingers, indeed, have traced a single line on her cheek,
     I trow, in my heart of hearts full many a line she hath
     writ
O thou, whom Jaafer alone of men possesses, may God Grant
     Jaafer to drink his fill of the wine of thy beauty and
     wit!

When El Mutawekkil died, all his women forgot him save Mehboubeh, who ceased not to mourn for him, till she died and was buried by his side, the mercy of God be on them both!

WERDAN THE BUTCHER HIS ADVENTURE WITH THE LADY AND THE BEAR.

There lived once in Cairo, in the days of the Khalif El Hakim bi Amrillah, a butcher named Werdan, who dealt in sheep's flesh; and there came to him every forenoon a lady and gave him a diner, whose weight was nigh two and a half Egyptian diners, saying, 'Give me a lamb.' So he took the money and gave her the lamb, which she delivered to a porter she had with her; and he put it in his basket and she went away with him to her own place. This went on for some time, the butcher profiting a dinar by her every day, till at last he began to be curious about her and said to himself, 'This woman buys a diner's worth of meat of me every day, paying ready money, and never misses a day. Verily, this is a strange thing!' So he took an occasion of questioning the porter, in her absence, and said to him, 'Whither goest thou every day with yonder woman?' 'I know not what to make of her,' answered the porter; 'for, every day, after she hath taken the lamb of thee, she buys fresh and dried fruits and wax candles and other necessaries of the table, a dinar's worth, and takes of a certain Nazarene two flagons of wine, for which she pays him another diner. Then she loads me with the whole and I go with her to the Vizier's Gardens, where she blindfolds me, so that I cannot see where I set my feet, and taking me by the hand, leads me I know not whither. Presently, she says, "Set down here;" and when I have done so, she gives me an empty basket she has ready and taking my hand, leads me back to the place, where she bound my eyes, and there does off the bandage and gives me ten dirhems.' 'God be her helper!' quoth Werdan; but he redoubled in curiosity about her case; disquietude increased upon him and he passed the night in exceeding restlessness.

Next morning, [quoth Werdan,] she came to me as of wont and taking the lamb, delivered it to the porter and went away. So I gave my shop in charge to a boy and followed her, unseen of her; nor did I cease to keep her in sight, hiding behind her, till she left Cairo and came to the Vizier's Gardens. Then I hid, whilst she bound the porter's eyes, and followed her again from place to place, till she came to the mountain and stopped at a place where there was a great stone. Here she made the porter set down his crate, and I waited, whilst she carried him back to the Vizier's Gardens, after which she returned and taking out the contents of the basket, disappeared behind the stone. Then I went up to the stone and pulling it away, discovered behind it an open trap-door of brass and a flight of steps leading downward. So I descended, little by little, into a long corridor, brilliantly lighted, and followed it, till I came to a [closed] door, as it were the door of a room. I looked about till I discovered a recess, with steps therein; then climbed up and found a little niche with an opening therein giving upon a saloon.

So I looked in and saw the lady cut off the choicest parts of the lamb and laying them in a saucepan, throw the rest to a huge great bear, who ate it all to the last bit. When she had made an end of cooking, she ate her fill, after which she set on wine and fruits and confections and fell to drinking, using a cup herself and giving the bear to drink in a basin of gold, till she was heated with wine, when she put off her trousers and lay down. Thereupon the bear came up to her and served her, whilst she gave him the best of what belongeth to mankind, till he had made an end, when he sat down and rested. Presently, he sprang to her and served her again; and thus he did, till he had furnished half a score courses, and they both fell down in a swoon and abode without motion.

Then said I to myself, "Now is my opportunity," and taking a knife I had with me, that would cut bones before flesh, went down to them and found them motionless, not a muscle of them moving for their much swink. So I put my knife to the bear's gullet and bore upon it, till I severed his head from his body, and he gave a great snort like thunder, whereat she started up in alarm and seeing the bear slain and me standing with the knife in my hand, gave such a shriek that I thought the soul had left her body. Then said she, "O Werdan, is this how thou requitest me my favours?" "O enemy of thine own soul," replied I, "dost thou lack of men that thou must do this shameful thing?" She made me no answer, but bent down to the bear, and finding his head divided from his body, said to me, "O Werdan, which were the liefer to thee, to hearken to what I shall say to thee and be the means of thine own safety and enrichment to the end of thy days, or gainsay me and so bring about thine own destruction?" "I choose rather to hearken unto thee," answered I. "Say what thou wilt." "Then," said she, "kill me, as thou hast killed this bear, and take thy need of this treasure and go thy way." Quoth I, "I am better than this bear. Return to God the Most High and repent, and I will marry thee, and we will live on this treasure the rest of our lives." "O Werdan," rejoined she, "far be it from me! How shall I live after him? An thou kill me not, by Allah, I will assuredly do away thy life! So leave bandying words with me, or thou art a lost man. This is all I have to say to thee and peace be on thee." Then said I, "I will slay thee, and thou shalt go to the malediction of God." So saying, I caught her by the hair and cut her throat; and she went to the malediction of God and of the angels and of all mankind.

Then I examined the place and found there gold and pearls and jewels, such as no king could bring together. So I filled the porter's crate with as much as I could carry and covered it with the clothes I had on me. Then I shouldered it and going up out of the underground place, set out homeward and fared on, till I came to the gate of Cairo, where I fell in with ten of the Khalif's body-guard, followed by El Hakim[FN#67] himself, who said to me. "Ho, Werdan!" "At thy service, O King," replied I. "Hast thou killed the woman and the bear?" asked he and I answered, "Yes." Quoth he, "Set down the basket and fear naught, for all the treasure thou hast with thee is thine, and none shall dispute it with thee." So I set down the basket, and he uncovered it and looked at it; then said to me, "Tell me their case, though I know it, as if I had been present with you." So I told him all that had passed and he said, "Thou hast spoken the truth, O Werdan. Come now with me to the treasure."

So I returned with him to the cavern, where he found the trap-door closed and said to me, "O Werdan, lift it; none but thou can open the treasure, for it is enchanted in thy name and favour." "By Allah," answered I, "I cannot open it;" but he said, "Go up to it, trusting in the blessing of God." So I called upon the name of God the Most High and going up to the trap-door, put my hand to it; whereupon it came up, as it had been the lightest of things. Then said the Khalif, "Go down and bring up what is there; for none but one of thy name and favour and quality hath gone down there since the place was made, and the slaying of the bear and the woman was appointed to be at thy hand. This was recorded with me and I was awaiting its fulfilment." Accordingly, I went down and brought up all the treasure, whereupon the Khalif sent for beasts of burden and carried it away, after giving me the porter's crate, with what was therein. So I carried it home and opened me a shop in the market. And [quoth he who tells the tale] this market is still extant and is known as Werdan's Market.

THE KING'S DAUGHTER AND THE APE.

There was once a King's daughter, whose heart was taken with love of a black slave: he did away her maidenhead, and she became passionately addicted to amorous dalliance, so that she could not endure from it a single hour and made moan of her case to one of her body women, who told her that no thing doth the deed of kind more abundantly than the ape. Now it chanced, one day, that an ape-leader passed under her lattice, with a great ape; so she unveiled her face and looking upon the ape, signed to him with her eyes, whereupon he broke his bonds and shackles and climbed up to the princess, who hid him in a place with her, and he abode, eating and drinking and cricketing, night and day. Her father heard of this and would have killed her; but she took the alarm and disguising herself in a [male] slave's habit, loaded a mule with gold and jewels and precious stuffs past count; then, taking horse with the ape, fled to Cairo, where she took up her abode in one of the houses without the city.

Now, every day, she used to buy meat of a young man, a butcher, but came not to him till after noonday, pale and disordered in face; so that he said in himself, 'There hangs some mystery by this slave.' For she used to visit him in her slave's habit. [Quoth the butcher,] So, one day, when she came to me as usual, I went out after her, unseen, and ceased not to follow her from place to place, so as she saw me not, till she came to her lodging, without the city, and I looked in upon her, through a cranny, and saw her light a fire and cook the meat, of which she ate her fill and gave the rest to an ape she had with her. Then she put off her slave's habit and donned the richest of women's apparel; and so I knew that she was a woman. After this she set on wine and drank and gave the ape to drink; and he served her nigh half a score times, till she swooned away, when he threw a silken coverlet over her and returned to his place.

Thereupon I went down into the midst of the place and the ape, becoming aware of me, would have torn me in pieces; but I made haste to pull out my knife and slit his paunch. The noise aroused the young lady, who awoke, terrified and trembling; and when she saw the ape in this plight, she gave such a shriek, that her soul well-nigh departed her body. Then she fell down in a swoon, and when she came to herself, she said to me, "What moved thee to do thus? By Allah, I conjure thee to send me after him!" But I spoke her fair and engaged to her that I would stand in the ape's stead, in the matter of much clicketing, till her trouble subsided and I took her to wife.

However, I fell short in this and could not endure to it; so I complained of her case to a certain old woman, who engaged to manage the affair and said to me, "Thou must bring me a cooking- pot full of virgin vinegar and a pound of pyrethrum."[FN#68] So I brought her what she sought, and she laid the pyrethrum in the pot with the vinegar and set it on the fire, till it boiled briskly. Then she bade me serve the girl, and I served her, till she fainted away, when the old woman took her up, and she unknowing, and set her kaze to the mouth of the cooking-pot. The steam of the pot entered her poke and there fell from it somewhat, which I examined and behold, it was two worms, one black and the other yellow. Quoth the old woman, "The black was bred of the embraces of the negro and the yellow of those of the ape."

When my wife recovered from her swoon, she abode with me, in all delight and solace of life, and sought not copulation, as before, for God the Most High had done away from her this appetite; whereat I marvelled and acquainted her with the case. Moreover, [quoth he who tells the tale,] she took the old woman to be to her in the stead of her mother, and she and Werdan and his wife abode in joy and cheer, till there came to them the Destroyer of Delights and the Sunderer of Companies; and glory be to the Living One, who dieth not and in whose hand is the empire of the Seen and the Unseen!

THE ENCHANTED HORSE.

There was once, of old time, a great and puissant King, of the Kings of the Persians, Sabour by name, who was the richest of all the Kings in store of wealth and dominion and surpassed them all in wit and wisdom. Generous, open-handed and beneficent, he gave to those who sought and repelled not those who resorted to him, comforted the broken-hearted and honourably entreated those who fled to him for refuge. Moreover, he loved the poor and was hospitable to strangers and did the oppressed justice upon those who oppressed them. He had three daughters, like shining full moons or flowered gardens, and a son as he were the moon; and it was his wont to keep two festivals in the year, those of the New Year and the Autumnal Equinox, on which occasions he threw open his palaces and gave gifts and made proclamation of safety and security and advanced his chamberlains and officers; and the people of his realm came in to him and saluted him and gave him joy of the festival, bringing him gifts and servants.

Now he loved science and geometry, and one day, as he sat on his throne of kingship, during one of these festivals, there came in to him three sages, cunning artificers and past masters in all manner of crafts and inventions, skilled in making rarities, such as confound the wit, and versed in the knowledge of [occult] truths and subtleties; and they were of three different tongues and countries, the first an Indian, the second a Greek and the third a Persian. The Indian came forward and prostrating himself before the King, gave him joy of the festival and laid before him a present befitting [his dignity]; that is to say, a figure of gold, set with precious stones and jewels of price and holding in its hand a golden trumpet. When Sabour saw this, he said, 'O sage, what is the virtue of this figure?' And the Indian answered, 'O my lord; if this figure be set at the gate of thy city, it will be a guardian over it; for, if an enemy enter the place, it will blow this trumpet against him, and so he will be known and laid hands on.' The King marvelled at this and said, 'By Allah, O sage, an this thy word be true, I will grant thee thy wish and thy desire.'

Then came forward the Greek and prostrating himself before the King, presented him with a basin of silver, in whose midst was a peacock of gold, surrounded by four-and-twenty young ones of the same metal. Sabour looked at them and turning to the Greek, said to him, 'O sage, what is the virtue of this peacock?' 'O my lord,' answered he, 'as often as an hour of the day or night passes, it pecks one of its young [and cries out and flaps its wings,] till the four-and-twenty hours are accomplished; and when the month comes to an end, it will open its mouth and thou shalt see the new moon therein.' And the King said, 'An thou speak sooth, I will bring thee to thy wish and thy desire.'

Then came forward the Persian sage and prostrating himself before the King, presented him with a horse of ebony wood, inlaid with gold and jewels, ready harnessed with saddle and bridle and stirrups such as befit kings; which when Sabour saw, he marvelled exceedingly and was confounded at the perfection of its form and the ingenuity of its fashion. So he said, 'What is the use of this horse of wood, and what is its virtue and the secret of its movement?' 'O my lord,' answered the Persian, 'the virtue of this horse is that, if one mount him, it will carry him whither he will and fare with its rider through the air for the space of a year and a day.' The King marvelled and was amazed at these three wonders, following thus hard upon each other in one day, and turning to the sage, said to him, 'By the Great God and the Bountiful Lord, who created all creatures and feedeth them with water and victual, an thy speech be true and the virtue of thy handiwork appear, I will give thee whatsoever thou seekest and will bring thee to thy wish and thy desire!'

Then he entertained the three sages three days, that he might make trial of their gifts, after which they brought them before him and each took the creature he had wrought and showed him the secret of its movement. The trumpeter blew the trumpet, the peacock pecked its young and the Persian sage mounted the horse of ebony, whereupon it soared with him into the air and descended again. When the King saw all this, he was amazed and perplexed and was like to fly for joy and said to the three sages, 'Now am I certified of the truth of your words and it behoves me to quit me of my promise. Seek ye, therefore, what ye will, and I will give it you.' Now the report of the [beauty of the] King's daughters had reached the sages, so they answered, 'If the King be content with us and accept of our gifts and give us leave to ask a boon of him, we ask of him that he give us his three daughters in marriage, that we may be his sons-in-law; for that the stability of kings may not be gainsaid.' Quoth the King, 'I grant you that which you desire,' and bade summon the Cadi forthright, that he might marry each of the sages to one of his daughters.

Now these latter were behind a curtain, looking on; and when they heard this, the youngest considered [him that was to be] her husband and saw him to be an old man, a hundred years of age, with frosted hair, drooping forehead, mangy eyebrows, slitten ears, clipped[FN#69] beard and moustaches, red, protruding eyes, bleached, hollow, flabby cheeks, nose like an egg-plant and face like a cobbler's apron, teeth overlapping one another,[FN#70] lips like camel's kidneys, loose and pendulous; brief, a monstrous favour; for he was the frightfullest of the folk of his time; his grinders had been knocked[FN#71] out and his teeth were like the tusks of the Jinn that fright the fowls in the hen-house. Now the princess was the fairest and most graceful woman of her time, more elegant than the tender gazelle, blander than the gentle zephyr and brighter than the moon at her full, confounding the branch and outdoing the gazelle in the flexile grace of her shape and movements; and she was fairer and sweeter than her sisters. So, when she saw her suitor, she went to her chamber and strewed dust on her head and tore her clothes and fell to buffeting her face and lamenting and weeping.

Now the prince her brother, who loved her with an exceeding love, more than her sisters, was then newly returned from a journey and hearing her weeping and crying, came in to her and said, 'What ails thee? Tell me and conceal nought from me.' 'O my brother and my dear one,' answered she, 'if the palace be straitened upon thy father, I will go out; and if he be resolved upon a foul thing, I will separate myself from him, though he consent not to provide for me.' Quoth he, 'Tell me what means this talk and what has straitened thy breast and troubled thy humour.' 'O my brother and my dear one,' answered the princess, 'know that my father hath given me in marriage to a sorcerer, who brought him, as a gift, a horse of black wood, and hath stricken him with his craft and his sorcery; but, as for me, I will none of him, and would, because of him, I had never come into this world!' Her brother soothed her and comforted her, then betook himself to his father and said to him, 'What is this sorcerer to whom thou hast given my youngest sister in marriage, and what is this present that he hath brought thee, so that thou hast caused my sister to [almost] die of chagrin? It is not right that this should be.'

Now the Persian was standing by and when he heard the prince's words, he was mortified thereby and filled with rage, and the King said, 'O my son, an thou sawest this horse, thy wit would be confounded and thou wouldst be filled with amazement.' Then he bade the slaves bring the horse before him and they did so; and when the prince, who was an accomplished cavalier, saw it, it pleased him. So he mounted it forthright and struck its belly with the stirrup-irons; but it stirred not and the King said to the sage, 'Go and show him its movement, that he also may help thee to thy wish.' Now the Persian bore the prince malice for that he willed not he should have his sister; so he showed him the peg of ascent on the right side [of the horse's neck] and saying to him, 'Turn this pin,' left him. So the prince turned the pin and forthwith the horse soared with him into the air, as it were a bird, and gave not over flying with him, till it disappeared from sight, whereat the King was troubled and perplexed about his affair and said to the Persian, 'O sage, look how thou mayst make him descend.' But he answered, 'O my lord, I can do nothing, and thou wilt never see him again till the Day of Resurrection, for that he, of his ignorance and conceit, asked me not of the peg of descent and I forgot to acquaint him therewith.' When the King heard this, he was sore enraged and bade beat the sorcerer and clap him in prison, whilst he himself cast the crown from his head and buffeted his face and beat upon his breast. Moreover, he shut the doors of his palaces and gave himself up to weeping and lamentation, he and his wife and daughters and all the folk of the city; and [thus] their joy was turned to mourning and their gladness changed into chagrin and sore affliction.

Meanwhile, the horse gave not over soaring with the prince, till he drew near the sun, whereat he gave himself up for lost and was confounded at his case, repenting him of having mounted the horse and saying in himself, 'Verily, this was a plot of the sage to destroy me; but there is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme! I am lost without recourse; but, I wonder, did not he who made the peg of ascent make a peg of descent also?' Now he was a man of wit and intelligence; so he fell to examining all the parts of the horse, but saw nothing save a peg, like a cock's head, on its right shoulder and the like on the left, and turned the right-hand peg, whereupon the horse flew upward with increased speed. So he left it and turned the left-hand peg, and immediately the steed's upward motion ceased and he began to descend, little by little, towards the earth. When the prince saw this and knew the uses of the horse, he was filled with joy and gladness and thanked God the Most High for that He had vouchsafed to deliver him from destruction. Then he began to turn the horse's head whither he would, making him rise and fall at pleasure, till he had gotten complete command of his movement.

He ceased not to descend the whole of that day, for that the steed's upward flight had borne him afar from the earth; and as he descended, he diverted himself with viewing the various towns and countries over which he passed and which he knew not, having never seen them in his life. Amongst the rest, he saw a city of the goodliest ordinance, in the midst of a green and smiling country, abounding in trees and streams; whereat he fell a-musing and said in himself, 'Would I knew the name of yonder city and in what country it is!' And he began to circle about it and observe it right and left. By this time, the day began to wane and the sun drew near to its setting; and he said, 'I see no goodlier place to pass the night in than this city; so I will lodge here this night and on the morrow I will return to my people and my kingdom and tell my father and family what has passed and what I have seen with my eyes.' Then he addressed himself to look for a place, where he might safely bestow himself and his horse and where none should see him, and presently espied a palace, surrounded by a great wall with lofty battlements, rising high into the air from the midst of the city and guarded by forty black slaves, clad in complete mail and armed with spears and swords and bows and arrows. Quoth he, 'This is a goodly place,' and turned the peg of descent, whereupon the horse sank down with him and alighted gently on the roof of the palace. So the prince dismounted and began to go round about the horse and examine it, saying, 'By Allah, he who fashioned thee was a cunning craftsman, and if God extend the term of my life and restore me to my country and family in safety and reunite me with my father, I will assuredly bestow upon him all manner of bounties and entreat him with the utmost favour.'

By this time the night had overtaken him and he sat on the roof, till he was assured that all in the palace slept; and indeed hunger and thirst were sore upon him, for that he had not tasted food since he parted from his father. So he said in himself, 'Surely, the like of this palace will not lack of victual,' and leaving the horse there, went in quest of somewhat to eat. Presently, he came to a stair and descending it, found himself in a court paved with white marble and alabaster, that shone in the light of the moon. He marvelled at the place and the goodliness of its fashion, but heard no sound and saw no living soul and stood in perplexity, looking right and left and knowing not whither he should go. Then said he to himself, 'I cannot do better than return to where I left my horse and pass the night by it; and as soon as it is day, I will mount and depart.' However, as he stood talking to himself, he espied a light within the palace, and making towards it, found that it came from a candle that stood before a door of the palace, at the head of an eunuch, as he were one of the Afrits of Solomon or a tribesman of the Jinn, longer than a plank and wider than a bench. He lay asleep before the door, with the pommel of his sword gleaming in the flame of the candle, and at his head was a budget of leather[FN#72] hanging from a column of granite.

When the prince saw this, he was affrighted and said, 'I crave help from God the Supreme! O my God, even as Thou hast [already] delivered me from destruction, vouchsafe me strength to quit myself of the adventure of this palace!' So saying, he put out his hand to the budget and taking it, carried it to a place apart and opened it and found in it food of the best. So he ate his fill and refreshed himself and drank water, after which he hung the budget up in its place and drawing the eunuch's sword from its sheath, took it, whilst the latter slept on, knowing not whence destiny should come to him. Then the prince fared on into the palace, till he came to another door, with a curtain drawn before it; so he raised the curtain and entering, saw a couch of ivory, inlaid with pearls and jacinths and jewels, and four slave-girls sleeping about it. He went up to the couch, to see what was therein, and found a young lady lying asleep, veiled with her hair, as she were the full moon at its rising, with flower-white forehead and shining parting and cheeks like blood-red anemones and dainty moles thereon.

When he saw this, he was amazed at her beauty and grace and symmetry and recked no more of death. So he went up to her, trembling in every nerve, and kissed her on the right cheek; whereupon she awoke forthright and seeing the prince standing at her head, said to him, 'Who art thou and whence comest thou?' Quoth he, 'I am thy slave and thy lover.' 'And who brought thee hither?' asked she. 'My Lord and my fortune,' answered he; and she said, 'Belike thou art he who demanded me yesterday of my father in marriage and he rejected thee, pretending that thou wast foul of favour. By Allah he lied, when he spoke this thing, for thou art not other than handsome.'

Now the son of the King of Hind[FN#73] had sought her in marriage, but her father had rejected him, for that he was ill- favoured, and she thought the prince was he. So, when she saw his beauty and grace, for indeed he was like the radiant moon, her heart was taken in the snare of his love, as it were a flaming fire, and they fell to talk and converse. Presently, her waiting-women awoke from their sleep and seeing the prince sitting with their mistress, said to her, 'O my lady, who is this with thee?' Quoth she, 'I know not; I found him sitting by me, when I awoke. Belike it is he who seeks me in marriage of my father.' 'O my lady,' answered they, 'by the Most Great God, this is not he who seeks thee in marriage, for he is foul and this man is fair and of high condition. Indeed, the other is not fit to be his servant.'

Then they went out to the eunuch and finding him asleep, awoke him, and he started up in alarm. Quoth they, 'How comes it that thou art guardian of the palace and yet men come in to us, whilst we are asleep?' When the eunuch heard this, he sprang in haste to his sword, but found it not, and fear took him and trembling. Then he went in, confounded, to his mistress and seeing the prince sitting talking with her, said to the former, 'O my lord, art thou a man or a genie?' 'O it on thee, O unluckiest of slaves!' replied the prince. 'How darest thou even a prince of the sons of the Chosroës with one of the unbelieving Satans?' Then he took the sword in his hand and said, 'I am the King's son-in-law, and he hath married me to his daughter and bidden me go in to her.' 'O my lord,' replied the eunuch, 'if thou be indeed a man, as thou avouchest, she is fit for none but thee, and thou art worthier of her than any other.'

Then he ran to the King, shrieking out and rending his clothes and casting dust upon his head; and when the King heard his outcry, he said to him, 'What has befallen thee? Speak quickly and be brief; for thou troublest my heart.' 'O King,' answered the eunuch, 'come to thy daughter's succour; for a devil of the Jinn, in the likeness of a king's son, hath gotten possession of her; so up and at him!' When the King heard this, he thought to kill him and said, 'How camest thou to be careless of my daughter and let this demon come at her?' Then he betook himself to the princess's palace, where he found her women standing, [awaiting him] and said to them, 'What is come to my daughter?' 'O King,' answered they, 'sleep overcame us and when we awoke, we found a young man sitting talking with her, as he were the full moon, never saw we a fairer of favour than he. So we questioned him of his case and he avouched that thou hadst given him thy daughter in marriage. More than this we know not, nor do we know if he be a man or a genie; but he is modest and well bred, and doth nothing unseemly.'

When the King heard this, his wrath cooled and he raised the curtain stealthily and looking in, saw a prince of the goodliest fashion, with a face like the shining full moon, sitting talking with his daughter. At this sight he could not contain himself, of his jealousy for his daughter, and putting the curtain aside, rushed in upon them, like a Ghoul, with his drawn sword in his hand. When the prince saw him, he said to the princess, 'Is this thy father?' 'Yes,' answered she; whereupon he sprang to his feet and taking his sword in his hand, cried out at the King with such a terrible cry, that he was confounded. Then he would have fallen on him with the sword; but the King, seeing that the prince was doughtier than he, sheathed his blade and stood till the latter came up to him, when he accosted him courteously and said to him, 'O youth, art thou a man or a genie?' Quoth the prince, 'Did I not respect thy right[FN#74] and thy daughter's honour, I would spill thy blood! How darest thou even me with devils, me that am a prince of the sons of the Chosroës, who, had they a mind to take thy kingdom, could shake thee from thy power and thy dominion and despoil thee of all thy possessions?' When the King heard his words, he was smitten with awe and fear of him and rejoined, 'If thou indeed be of the sons of the kings, as thou pretendest, how comes it that thou enterest my palace, without my leave, and soilest my honour, making thy way to my daughter and feigning that thou art her husband and that I have given her to thee to wife, I that have slain kings and kings' sons, who sought her of me in marriage? And now who shall save thee from my mischief, when, if I cried out to my slaves and servants and bade them put thee to death, they would slay thee forthright? Who then shall deliver thee out of my hand?'

When the prince heard this speech of the King, he answered, 'Verily, I wonder at thee and at the poverty of thy wit! Canst thou covet for thy daughter a goodlier mate than myself and hast ever seen a stouter of heart or a more sufficient or a more glorious in rank and dominion than I?' 'Nay, by Allah,' rejoined the King. 'But, O youth, I would have had thee make suit to me for her hand before witnesses, that I might marry her to thee publicly; and now, were I to marry her to thee privily, yet hast thou dishonoured me in her person.' 'Thou sayst well, O King,' replied the prince; 'but, if thy servants and soldiers should fall upon me and slay me, as thou pretendest, thou wouldst but publish thine own dishonour, and the folk would be divided between belief and disbelief with regard to thee. Wherefore, meseems thou wilt do well to turn from this thought to that which I shall counsel thee.' Quoth the King, 'Let me hear what thou hast to propose.' And the prince said, 'What I have to propose to thee is this: either do thou meet me in single combat and he who slays the other shall be held the worthier and having a better title to the kingdom; or else, let me be this night and on the morrow draw out against me thy horsemen and footmen and servants; but [first] tell me their number.' Quoth the King, 'They are forty thousand horse, besides my own slaves and their followers, who are the like of them in number.' 'When the day breaks, then,' continued the prince, 'do thou array them against me and say to them, "This fellow is a suitor to me for my daughter's hand, on condition that he shall do battle single-handed against you all; for he pretends that he will overcome you and put you to the rout and that ye cannot prevail against him." Then leave me to do battle with them. If they kill me, then is thy secret the safelier hidden and thine honour the better guarded; and if I overcome them, then is the like of me one whose alliance a King should covet.'

The King approved of his counsel and accepted his proposition, despite his awe and amaze at the exorbitant pretension of the prince to do battle against his whole army, such as he had described it to him, being at heart assured that he would perish in the mellay and so he be quit of him and freed from the fear of dishonour. So he called the eunuch and bade him go forthright to his Vizier and bid him assemble the whole of the troops and cause them don their arms and mount their horses. The eunuch carried the King's order to the Vizier, who straightway summoned the captains of the army and the grandees of the realm and bade them don their harness of war and mount their horses and sally forth in battle array.

Meanwhile, the King sat conversing with the prince, being pleased with his wit and good breeding, till daybreak, when he returned to his palace and seating himself on his throne, commanded the troops to mount and bade saddle one of the best of the royal horses with handsome housings and trappings and bring it to the prince. But the latter said, 'O King, I will not mount, till I come in sight of the troops and see them.' 'Be it as thou wilt,' answered the King. Then they repaired to the tilting ground, where the troops were drawn up, and the prince looked upon them and noted their great number; after which the King cried out to them, saying, 'Ho, all ye men, there is come to me a youth who seeks my daughter in marriage, —never have I seen a goodlier than he, no, nor a stouter of heart nor a doughtier, for he pretends that he can overcome you, single-handed, and put you to the rout and that, were ye a hundred thousand in number, yet would ye be for him but little. But, when he charges upon you, do ye receive him upon the points of your lances and the edges of your sabres; for, indeed, he hath undertaken a grave matter.'

Then said he to the prince, 'Up, O my son, and do thy will on them.' 'O King,' answered he, 'thou dealest not fairly with me. How shall I go forth against them, seeing that I am afoot and they are mounted?' 'I bade thee mount, and thou refusedst,' rejoined the King; 'but take which of my horses thou wilt.' But he said, 'None of thy horses pleases me, and I will ride none but that on which I came.' 'And where is thy horse?' asked the King. 'Atop of thy palace,' answered the prince, and the King said, 'In what part of my palace?' 'On the roof,' replied the prince. 'Out on thee!' quoth the King. 'This is the first sign thou hast given of madness. How can the horse be on the roof? But we shall soon see if thou speak truth or falsehood.' Then he turned to one of his chief officers and said to him, 'Go to my palace and bring me what thou findest on the roof.' And all the people marvelled at the prince's words, saying, 'How can a horse come down the steps from the roof? Verily this is a thing whose like we never heard.'

Meanwhile, the King's messenger repaired to the palace, accompanied by other of the royal officers, and mounting to the roof, found the horse standing there,—never had they looked on a handsomer; but when they drew near and examined it, they saw that it was made of ebony and ivory; whereat they laughed to each other, saying, 'Was it of the like of this horse that the youth spoke? Surely, he must be mad; but we shall soon see the truth of his case. Belike, there hangs some great mystery by him.' Then they lifted up the horse and carrying it to the King, set it down before him, and all the people flocked round it, staring at it and marvelling at the beauty of its fashion and the richness of its saddle and bridle. The King also admired it and wondered at it extremely; and he said to the prince, 'O youth, is this thy horse?' 'Yes, O King,' answered the prince; 'this is my horse, and thou shalt soon see wonders of it.' 'Then take and mount it,' rejoined the King, and the prince said, 'I will not mount till the troops withdraw afar from it.' So the King bade them withdraw a bowshot from the horse; whereupon quoth the prince, 'O King, I am about to mount my horse and charge upon thy troops and scatter them right and left and cleave their hearts in sunder.' 'Do as thou wilt,' answered the King; 'and spare them not, for they will not spare thee.' Then the prince mounted, whilst the troops ranged themselves in ranks before him, and one said to another, 'When the youth comes between the ranks, we will take him on the points of our pikes and the edges of our swords.' 'By Allah,' quoth another, 'it were pity to kill so handsome and well-shaped a youth!' 'By Allah,' rejoined a third, 'ye will have hard work to get the better of him; for he had not done this, but for what he knew of his own prowess and valiantise.'

Meanwhile, the prince, having settled himself in his saddle, whilst all eyes were strained to see what he would do, turned the peg of ascent; whereupon the horse began to sway to and fro and make the strangest of movements, after the manner of horses, till its belly was filled with air and it took flight with him and soared into the sky. When the King saw this, he cried out to his men, saying, 'Out on you! Take him, ere he escape you!' But his Viziers and officers said to him, 'O King, how shall we overtake the flying bird? This is surely none but some mighty enchanter, and God hath saved thee from him. So praise thou the Most High for thy deliverance from his hand.' Then the King returned to his palace and going in to his daughter, acquainted her with what had befallen. He found her sore afflicted for the prince and bewailing her separation from him; wherefore she fell grievously sick and took to her pillow. When her father saw her thus, he pressed her to his bosom and kissing her between the eyes, said to her, 'O my daughter, praise God and thank Him for that He hath delivered thee from this crafty enchanter!' And he repeated to her the story of the prince's disappearance; but she paid no heed to his word and did but redouble in her tears and lamentations, saying to herself, 'By Allah, I will neither eat nor drink, till God reunite me with him!' Her father was greatly concerned for her plight and mourned sore over her; but, for all he could do to comfort her, passion and love-longing still grew on her for the prince.

Meanwhile, the King's son, whenas he had risen into the air, turned his horse's head towards his native land, musing upon the beauty and grace of the princess. Now he had enquired of the King's people the name of the princess and of the King her father and of the city, which was the city of Senaa of Yemen. So he journeyed homeward with all speed, till he drew near his father's capital and making a circuit about the city, alighted on the roof of the King's palace, where he left his horse, whilst he descended into the palace and finding its threshold strewn with ashes, bethought him that one of his family was dead. Then he entered, as of wont, and found his father and mother and sisters clad in mourning raiment of black, pale-faced and lean of body. When his father saw him and was assured that it was indeed his son, he gave a great cry and fell down in a swoon, but presently coming to himself, threw himself upon him and embraced him, straining him to his bosom and rejoicing in him exceedingly. His mother and sisters heard this; so they came in and seeing the prince, fell upon him, kissing him and weeping and rejoicing with an exceeding joy. Then they questioned him of his case; so he told them all that had befallen him from first to last and his father said to him, 'Praised be God for thy safety, O solace of my eyes and life-blood of my heart!'

Then the King bade hold high festival, and the glad news flew through the city. So they beat the drums and the cymbals and putting off the raiment of mourning, donned that of joy and decorated the streets and markets; whilst the folk vied with one another who should be the first to give the King joy, and the latter proclaimed a general pardon and opening the prisons, released those who were therein. Moreover, he made banquets to the people seven days and nights and all creatures were glad; and he took horse with his son and rode out with him, that the folk might see him and rejoice. After awhile the prince enquired for the maker of the horse, saying, 'O my father, what hath fortune done with him?' 'May God not bless him,' answered the King, 'nor the hour in which I set eyes on him! For he was the cause of thy separation from us, O my son, and he hath lain in prison since the day of thy disappearance.' Then he bade release him from prison and sending for him, invested him in a dress of honour and entreated him with the utmost favour and munificence, save that he would not give him his daughter to wife; whereat he was sore enraged and repented of that which he had done, knowing that the prince had learnt the secret of the horse and the manner of its motion. Moreover, the King said to his son, 'Methinks thou wilt do well not to mount the horse neither go near it henceforth; for thou knowest not its properties, and it is perilous for thee to meddle with it.' Now the prince had told his father of his adventure with the King's daughter of Senaa, and he said, 'If the King had been minded to kill thee, he had done so; but thine hour was not yet come.'

When the rejoicings were at an end, the people returned to their houses and the King and his son to the palace, where they sat down and fell to eating and drinking and making merry. Now the King had a handsome slave-girl, who was skilled in playing upon the lute; so she took it and began to play upon it and sing thereto of separation of lovers before the King and his son, and she chanted the following verses:

Think not that absence ever shall win me to forget: For what
     should I remember, if I'd forgotten you?
Time passes, but my passion for you shall never end: In love of
     you, I swear it, I'll die and rise anew.

When the prince heard this, the fires of longing flamed up in his heart and passion redoubled upon him. Grief and regret were sore upon him and his entrails yearned in him for love of the King's daughter of Senaa; so he rose forthright and eluding his father's notice, went forth the palace to the horse and mounting it, turned the peg of ascent, whereupon it flew up into the air with him and soared towards the confines of the sky. Presently, his father missed him and going up to the summit of the palace, in great concern, saw the prince rising into the air; whereat he was sore afflicted and repented exceedingly that he had not taken the horse and hidden it: and he said in himself, 'By Allah, if but my son return to me, I will destroy the horse, that my heart may be at rest concerning my son.' And he fell again to weeping and bewailing himself for his son.

Meanwhile, the prince flew on through the air till he came to the city of Senaa and alighted on the roof as before. Then he went down stealthily and finding the eunuch asleep, as of wont, raised the curtain and went on, little by little, till he came to the door of the princess's chamber and stopped to listen; when, behold, he heard her weeping plenteous tears and reciting verses, whilst her women slept round her. Presently, they heard her weeping and wailing and said, 'O our mistress, why wilt thou mourn for one who mourns not for thee?' 'O little of wit,' answered she, 'is he for whom I mourn of those who are forgotten?' And she fell again to weeping and wailing, till sleep overcame her.

Now the prince's heart ached for her, so he entered and seeing her lying asleep, without covering, touched her with his hand; whereupon she opened her eyes and saw him standing by her. Quoth he, 'Why this weeping and mourning?' And when she knew him, she threw herself upon him and embraced him and kissed him and answered, 'For thy sake and because of my separation from thee.' 'O my lady,' said he, 'I have wearied for thee all this time!' But she answered, 'It is I who have wearied for thee, and hadst thou tarried longer, I had surely died!' 'O my lady,' rejoined he, 'what thinkest thou of my case with thy father and how he dealt with me? Were it not for my love of thee, O ravishment of all creatures, I had surely slain him and made him a warning to all beholders; but, even as I love thee, so I love him for thy sake.' Quoth she, 'How couldst thou leave me? Can life be sweet to me after thee?' Quoth he, 'Let what has happened suffice now: I am hungry and thirsty.' So she bade her maidens make ready meat and drink, [and they sat eating and drinking and conversing] till nigh upon daybreak, when he rose to take leave of her and depart, ere the eunuch should awake, and she said, 'Whither goest thou?' 'To my father's house,' answered he; 'and I plight thee my troth that I will come to thee once in every week.' But she wept and said, 'I conjure thee, by God the Supreme, take me with thee whither thou goest and make me not taste anew the bitterness of separation from thee.' Quoth he, 'Wilt thou indeed go with me?' and she answered, 'Yes.' 'Then,' said he, 'arise, that we may depart.' So she rose forthright and going to a chest, arrayed herself in what was richest and dearest to her of her trinkets of gold and jewels of price. Then he carried her up to the roof of the palace and mounting the horse, took her up behind him and bound her fast to himself; after which he turned the peg of ascent, and the horse rose with him into the air. When her women saw this, they shrieked aloud and told her father and mother, who rushed up to the roof of the palace and looking up, saw the ebony horse flying away with the prince and princess. At this the King was sore troubled and cried out, saying, 'O King's son, I conjure thee, by Allah, have compassion on me and my wife and bereave us not of our daughter!' The prince made him no reply, but, thinking that the princess repented of leaving her father and mother, said to her, 'O ravishment of the age, wilt thou that I restore thee to thy father and mother?' 'By Allah, O my lord, that is not my desire,' answered she; 'my only wish is to be with thee wherever thou art; for I am distracted by the love of thee from all else, even to my father and mother.' At this the prince rejoiced greatly and made the horse fare softly with them, so as not to disquiet the princess; nor did they stay their flight till they came in sight of a green meadow, in which was a spring of running water. Here they alighted and ate and drank; after which they took horse again and fared on, till they came in sight of his father's capital. At this, the prince was filled with joy and bethought himself to show her the seat of his dominion and his father's power and dignity and give her to know that it was greater than that of her father. So he set her down in one of his father's pleasance-gardens [without the city] and carrying her into a pavilion there, prepared for the King, left the horse at the door and charged her keep watch over it, saying, 'Sit here, till my messenger come to thee; for I go now to my father, to make ready a palace for thee and show thee my royal estate.' 'Do as thou wilt,' answered she, for she was glad that she should not enter but with due honour and observance, as became her rank.

Then he left her and betook himself to the palace of the King his father, who rejoiced in his return and welcomed him; and the prince said to him, 'Know that I have brought with me the princess of whom I told thee and have left her without the city in such a garden and come to tell thee, that thou mayest make ready and go forth to meet her in state and show her thy royal dignity and troops and guards.' 'With all my heart,' answered the King and straightway bade decorate the city after the goodliest fashion. Then he took horse and rode out in all state and splendour, he and his troops and household and grandees; whilst the prince made ready for her a litter of green and red and yellow brocade, in which he set Indian and Greek and Abyssinian slave-girls. Moreover, he took forth of his treasuries jewellery and apparel and what else of the things that kings treasure up and made a rare display of wealth and magnificence. Then he left the litter and those who were therein and rode forward to the pavilion, where he had left the princess; but found both her and the horse gone. When he saw this, he buffeted his face and rent his clothes and went round about the garden, as he had lost his wits; after which he came to his senses and said to himself, 'How could she have come at the secret of the horse, seeing I told her nothing of it? Maybe the Persian sage who made the horse has chanced upon her and stolen her away, in revenge for my father's treatment of him.' Then he sought the keepers of the garden and asked them if they had seen any enter the garden.

Quoth they, 'We have seen none enter but the Persian sage, who came to gather simples.' So the prince was certified that it was indeed he that had taken away the princess and abode confounded and perplexed concerning his case. And he was abashed before the folk and returning to his father, [told him what had happened and] said to him, 'Take the troops and return to the city. As for me, I will never return till I have cleared up this affair.' When the King heard this, he wept and beat his breast and said to him, 'O my son, calm thyself and master thy chagrin and return with us and look what King's daughter thou wouldst fain have, that I may marry thee to her.' But the prince paid no heed to his words and bidding him farewell, departed, whilst the King returned to the city and their joy was changed into mourning.

Now, as Fate would have it, when the prince left the princess in the pavilion and betook himself to his father's palace, for the ordering of his affair, the Persian entered the garden to pluck simples and scenting the fragrance of musk and essences, that exhaled from the princess's person and perfumed the whole place, followed it till he came to the pavilion and saw the horse, that he had made with his own hands, standing at the door. At this sight, his heart was filled with joy and gladness, for he had mourned sore for it, since it had gone out of his hand. So he went up to it and examining its every part, found it safe and sound; whereupon he was about to mount and ride away, when he bethought himself and said, 'Needs must I first look what the prince hath brought and left here with the horse.' So he entered the pavilion and seeing the princess sitting there, as she were the sun shining in the cloudless sky, knew her to be some high-born lady and doubted not but the prince had brought her thither on the horse and left her in the pavilion, whilst he went to the city, to make ready for her entry in state.

Then he went up to her and kissed the earth before her, whereupon she raised her eyes to him and finding him exceeding foul of face and favour, said, 'Who art thou?' 'O my lady,' answered he, 'I am sent by the prince, who hath bidden me bring thee to another garden, nearer the city; for that my lady the queen cannot go so far a journey and is unwilling, of her joy in thee, that another should forestall her with thee.' 'Where is the prince?' asked she; and the Persian replied, 'He is in the city, with his father, and will presently come for thee in great state.' 'O fellow,' said she, 'could he find none to send to me but thee?' At this he laughed and answered, 'O my lady, let not the ugliness of my face and the foulness of my favour deceive thee. Hadst thou profited of me as hath the prince, thou wouldst praise my affair. Indeed, he chose me as his messenger to thee, because of my uncomeliness and forbidding aspect, in his jealousy and love of thee: else hath he slaves and pages and servants, white and black, out of number, each goodlier than the other.' When she heard this, it commended itself to her reason and she believed him; so she rose and putting her hand in his, said, 'O my father, what hast thou brought me to ride?' 'O my lady,' answered he, 'thou shalt ride the horse thou camest on.' Quoth she, 'I cannot ride it by myself.' Whereupon he smiled and knew that she was in his power and said, 'I myself will ride with thee.' So he mounted and taking her up behind him, bound her fast to himself, for she knew not what he would with her. Then he turned the peg of ascent, whereupon the belly of the horse became full of wind and it swayed to and fro and rose with them into the air nor slackened in its flight, till it was out of sight of the city.

When the princess saw this, she said to him, 'O fellow, what didst thou tell me of the prince, that he sent thee to me?' 'Foul befall the prince!' answered the Persian. 'He is a scurril knave.' And she said, 'Out on thee! How darest thou disobey thy lord's commandment!' 'He is no lord of mine,' rejoined the Persian. 'Knowst thou who I am?' 'I know nothing of thee,' replied the princess, 'save what thou toldest me.' Quoth he, 'What I told thee was a trick of mine against thee and the prince. I am he who made this horse under us, and I have long regretted its loss; for the prince made himself master of it. But now I have gotten possession of it and of thee too, and I will rack his heart, even as he hath racked mine; nor shall he ever have the horse again. So take comfort and be of good cheer, for I can be of more service to thee than he.' When she heard this, she buffeted her face and cried out, saying, 'Ah, woe is me! I have neither gotten my beloved nor kept my father and mother!' And she wept sore over what had befallen her, whilst the Persian fared on with her, without ceasing, till he came to the land of the Greeks and alighted in a verdant meadow, abounding in trees and streams.

Now this meadow was near a city, in which was a king of great puissance, and it befell that he went forth that day to hunt and divert himself. As he passed by the meadow, he saw the Persian standing there, with the princess and the horse by his side, and before he was aware, the King's followers fell upon him and carried him, the lady and the horse to their master, who noting the foulness of his favour and the beauty and grace of the princess, said to the latter, 'O my lady, what kin is this old fellow to thee?' The Persian made haste to reply, 'She is my wife and the daughter of my father's brother.' But she gave him the lie and said, 'O King, by Allah, I know him not, nor is he my husband, but hath stolen me away by force and fraud.' Thereupon the King bade beat the Persian, and they beat him, till he was well-nigh dead; after which the King commanded to carry him to the city and cast him into prison, and taking the princess and the horse from him, set the former in his harem and laid up the latter in his treasury, though he knew not its properties nor the secret of its motion.

Meanwhile, the prince donned a travelling-habit and taking what he needed of money, set out, in very sorry plight, in quest of the princess, and journeyed from country to country and city to city, enquiring after the ebony horse, whilst all who heard him marvelled at him and deemed his talk extravagant. Thus did he a long while; but, for all his enquiry and research, he could win at no news of her. At last, he came to the city of Senaa and there enquired for her, but could get no tidings of her and found her father mourning her loss. So he turned back and made for the land of the Greeks, pursuing his enquiries as he went, till, as chance would have it, he alighted at a certain khan and saw a company of merchants sitting talking. He sat down near them and heard one say to the others, 'O my friends, I happened lately upon a wonder of wonders.' 'What was that?' asked they, and he answered, 'I was late in such a city,' naming the city wherein was the princess, 'and heard its people speak of a strange thing that had lately befallen. It was that their King went out one day a-hunting, with a company of his courtiers and the grandees of his realm, and coming to a green meadow, espied there a man standing, with a horse of ebony, and a lady sitting hard by. The man was ugly and foul of favour, but the lady was a marvel of beauty and grace and symmetry; and as for the ebony horse, it was a wonder, never saw eyes aught goodlier than it nor more perfect than its fashion.' 'And what did the King with them?' asked the others. 'As for the man,' said the merchant, 'he questioned him of the lady and he pretended that she was his wife and the daughter of his father's brother; but she gave him the lie. So the King took her from him and bade beat him and cast him into prison. As for the horse, I know not what became of it.' When the prince heard this, he drew near unto the speaker and questioned him discreetly and courteously, till he told him the name of the city and of its king; which when he knew, he passed the night, full of joy.

On the morrow, he set out and travelled till he reached the city; but, when he would have entered, the gatekeepers laid hands on him, that they might bring him before the King; for that it was his wont to question all strangers respecting their conditions and the crafts in which they were skilled and the reason of their coming thither. Now it was eventide, when he entered the city, and it was then too late to go in to the King or take counsel with him respecting him. So they carried him to the prison, thinking to lay him therein for the night; but, when the warders saw his beauty and grace, they could not find it in their hearts to imprison him, but made him sit with them, without the prison; and when food came to them, he ate his fill with them. When they had made an end of eating, they turned to him and said, 'What countryman art thou?' 'I come from Persia,' answered he, 'the land of the Chosroës.' When they heard this, they laughed and one of them said, 'O Chosroän, I have heard the talk of men and their histories and looked upon their conditions; but never saw or heard I a greater liar than the Chosroän that is with us in the prison.' 'Nor,' quoth another, 'did I ever see fouler than his favour or more repulsive than his aspect.' 'What have ye seen of his lying?' asked the prince, and they answered, 'He pretends that he is a sage. Now the King came upon him, as he went a-hunting, and found with him a most beautiful lady and a horse of ebony, never saw I a handsomer. As for the lady, she is with the King, who is enamoured of her and would fain marry her; but she is mad, and were this man a physician, as he pretends, he would have cured her, for the King doth his utmost endeavour to find a remedy for her disease, and this whole year past hath he spent treasures upon physicians and astrologers, on her account; but none can avail to cure her. As for the horse, it is in the royal treasury, and the man is here with us in the prison; and all night long he weeps and bemoans himself and will not let us sleep.'

When the prince heard this, he bethought himself of a device by which he might compass his desire; and presently the warders, being minded to sleep, clapped him into the prison and locked the door. He heard the Persian weeping and bemoaning himself, in his own tongue, and saying, 'Woe is me for my sin, that I sinned against myself and against the King's son, in that which I did with the damsel; for I neither left her nor got my desire of her! All this comes of my want of sense, in that I sought for myself that which I deserved not and which befitted not the like of me; for he, who seeks what befits him not, falleth into the like of my predicament.' When the prince heard this, he accosted him in Persian, saying, 'How long wilt thou keep up this weeping and wailing? Thinkst thou that there hath befallen thee what never befell other than thou?' When the Persian heard this, he made friends with him and began to complain to him of his case and misfortunes.

As soon as it was day, the warders took the prince and carried him before the King, informing him that he had entered the city on the previous night, at a time when no audience could be had of him. Quoth the King to the prince, 'Whence comest thou and what is thy name and craft and why comest thou hither?' And he answered, 'I am called, in Persian, Herjeh. I come from the land of Fars and I am of the men of art and especially of the art of medicine and cure the sick and the mad. For this, I go round about all countries and cities, adding knowledge to my knowledge, and whenever I see a sick person, I heal him; and this is my craft.' When the King heard this, he rejoiced exceedingly and said, 'O excellent sage, thou hast come to us at a time when we have need of thee.' Then he acquainted him with the case of the princess, adding, 'If thou win to cure her and recover her of her madness, thou shalt have of me whatever thou seekest.' 'May God advance the King!' rejoined the prince. 'Describe to me all thou hast seen of her madness and tell me how long it is since it attacked her; also how thou camest by her.' So the King told him the whole story, from first to last, adding, 'The sage is in prison.' 'O august King,' said the prince, 'and what hast thou done with the horse?' 'It is with me yet, laid up in one of my treasure-chambers,' replied the King; whereupon quoth the prince in himself, 'The first thing to do is to see the horse and assure myself of its condition. If it be whole and unhurt, all will be well; but, if its works be destroyed, I must find some other way of delivering my beloved.'

So he turned to the King and said to him, 'O King, I must see the horse in question: haply I may find in it somewhat that will serve me for the recovery of the damsel.' 'With all my heart,' replied the King and taking him by the hand, led him to the place where the horse was. The prince went round about it, examining its condition, and found it whole and unhurt, whereat he rejoiced greatly and said to the King, 'May God exalt the King! I would fain go in to the damsel, that I may see how it is with her; for I hope, by God's grace, to cure her by means of the horse.' Then he bade take care of the horse and the King carried him to the princess's apartment, where he found her writhing and beating herself against the ground, as was her wont; but there was no madness in her, and she did this but that none might approach her. When the prince saw her thus, he said to her, 'No harm shall betide thee, O ravishment of all creatures;' and went on to soothe her and speak her fair, till he won to make himself known to her; whereupon she gave a loud cry and fell down in a swoon for excess of joy; but the King thought this came of her fear of him.

Then the prince put his mouth to her ear and said to her, 'O seduction of the universe, have a care for thy life and mine and be patient and constant; for we have need of patience and skilful ordinance to make shift for our delivery from this tyrannical King. To begin with, I will now go out to him and tell him that thou art possessed of a genie, and hence thy madness; but, that if he will loose thee from thy bonds, I will engage to heal thee and drive away the evil spirit. So, when he comes in to thee, do thou give him fair words, that he may think I have cured thee, and all will be accomplished as we desire.' Quoth she, 'I hear and obey;' and he went out to the King, full of joy and happiness, and said to him, 'O august King, by thy good fortune I have discovered her disease and its remedy and have cured her for thee. So now do thou go in to her and speak softly to her and entreat her kindly, and promise her what may please her; so shall all thou desirest of her be accomplished to thee.' So he went in to her and when she saw him, she rose and kissing the ground, bade him welcome; whereat he was greatly rejoiced and bade the eunuchs and waiting-women attend her and carry her to the bath and make ready for her dresses and ornaments.

So they went in to her and saluted her, and she returned their greeting, after the goodliest and pleasantest fashion; after which they clad her in royal apparel and clasping a collar of jewels about her neck, carried her to the bath and served her there. Then they brought her forth, as she were the full moon; and when she came into the King's presence, she saluted him and kissed the ground before him, whereupon he rejoiced in her with an exceeding joy and said to the prince, 'All this is of thy blessing, may God increase us of thy good offices!' Quoth the prince, 'O King, it behoves, for the completion of her cure, that thou carry her forth, together with the ebony horse, and attend her with all thy troops to the place where thou foundest her, that there I may expel from her the evil spirit, by whom she is possessed, and bind him and kill him, so he may never more return to her.' 'With all my heart,' answered the King. Then he caused carry out the horse to the meadow in question and mounting, rode thither with all his troops and the princess, knowing not the prince's purpose.

When they came to the appointed place, the prince bade set the horse and the princess as far as the eye could reach from the King and his troops and said to the former, 'With thy leave, I will now proceed to the needful fumigations and conjurations and imprison the genie here, that he may nevermore return to her. After this, I shall mount the horse and take the damsel up behind me; whereupon it will sway to and fro and fare forward, till it come to thee, when the affair will be at an end; and after this thou mayst do with her as thou wilt.' And when the King heard his words, he rejoiced with an exceeding joy. So the prince mounted the horse and taking the princess up behind him, bound her fast to him, whilst the King and his troops watched him. Then he turned the peg of ascent and the horse took flight and soared with them into the air, till he disappeared from sight.

The King abode half the day, expecting their return; but they returned not. So, when he despaired of them, he returned to the city with his troops, repenting him greatly of that which he had done and grieving sore for the loss of the damsel. He shut himself up in his palace, mourning and afflicted; but his Viziers came in to him and applied themselves to comfort him, saying, 'Verily, he who took the damsel is an enchanter, and praised be God who hath delivered thee from his craft and sorcery!' And they ceased not from him, till he was comforted for her loss.

Meanwhile, the prince bent his course, in joy and cheer, towards his father's capital and stayed not, till he alighted on his own palace, where he set the princess in safety; after which he went in to his father and mother and acquainted them with her coming, whereat they rejoiced exceedingly. Then he made great banquets to the townsfolk and they held high festival a whole month, at the end of which time he went in to the princess and they rejoiced in one another with an exceeding joy. But his father broke the horse in pieces and destroyed its works. Moreover, the prince wrote a letter to the princess's father, advising him of all that had befallen her and how she was now married to him and in all health and happiness, and sent it by a messenger, together with costly presents and rarities. The messenger, in due course, arrived at the city of Senaa and delivered the letter and the presents to the King, who, when he read the former, rejoiced greatly and accepted the presents, rewarding the bearer handsomely. Moreover, he sent rich presents to his son-in-law by the same messenger, who returned to his master and acquainted him with what had passed, whereat he was much cheered. And after this the prince wrote a letter every year to his father-in-law and sent him a present, till, in course of time, his father King Sabour died and he reigned in his stead, ruling justly over his subjects and ordering himself well and righteously towards them, so that they submitted themselves to him and did him loyal service; and he and his wife abode in the enjoyment of all delight and solace of life, till there came to them the Destroyer of Delights and Sunderer of Companies, He that layeth waste the palaces and peopleth the tombs; and glory be to the Living One who dieth not and in whose hand is the dominion of the Seen and the Unseen!

UNS EL WUJOUD AND THE VIZIER'S DAUGHTER ROSE-IN-BUD.

There was once, of old days and in bygone ages and times, a King of great power and glory and dominion, who had a Vizier named Ibrahim, and this Vizier had a daughter of extraordinary beauty and grace, gifted with surpassing brilliancy and all perfection, possessed of abundant wit and perfectly accomplished. She loved wine and good cheer and fair faces and choice verses and rare stories; and the delicacy of her charms invited all hearts to love, even as Saith the poet, describing her:

She shines out like the moon at full, that midst the stars doth
     fare, And for a wrapping-veil she hath the ringlets of her
     hair.
The Eastern zephyr gives her boughs to drink of all its sweets
     And like a jointed cane, she sways to every breath of air.
She smiles in passing by. O thou that dost alike accord With
     red and yellow and arrayed in each, alike art fair,
Thou sportest with my wit in love, so that indeed meseems As if
     a sparrow in the clutch of playful urchin 'twere.

Her name was Rose-in-bud and she was so named for the exceeding delicacy and perfection of her beauty; and the King loved to carouse with her, because of her wit and good breeding.

Now it was the King's custom yearly to gather together all the nobles of his realm and play with the ball. So, when the day came round, on which the folk assembled for ball-play, the Vizier's daughter seated herself at her lattice, to divert herself by looking on at the game; and as they were at play, her eyes fell upon a youth among them, never was seen a handsomer than he or a goodlier of favour, for he was bright of face, laughing-teethed, tall and broad-shouldered. She looked at him again and again and could not take her fill of gazing on him. Then she said to her nurse, 'What is the name of yonder handsome young man among the troops?' 'O my daughter,' replied the nurse, 'they are all handsome. Which of them dost thou mean?' 'Wait till he passes,' said Rose-in-bud, 'and I will point him out to thee.' So she took an apple and waited till he came under her window, when she dropped it on him, whereupon he raised his head, to see who did this, and saw the Vizier's daughter at the window, as she were the full moon in the darkness of the night; nor did he withdraw his eyes, till he had fallen passionately in love with her; and he recited the following verses:

Was it an archer shot me or did thine eyes undo The lover's
     heart that saw thee, what time thou metst his view?
Did the notched arrow reach me from midst a host, indeed, Or
     was it from a lattice that launched at me it flew?

When the game was at an end, he went away with the King, [whose servant and favourite he was,] with heart occupied with love of her; and she said to her nurse, 'What is the name of that youth I showed thee?' 'His name is Uns el Wujoud,' answered she; whereat Rose-in-bud shook her head and lay down on her couch, with a heart on fire for love. Then, sighing deeply, she improvised the following verses:

He erred not who dubbed thee, "All creatures' delight,"[FN#75]
     That pleasance and bounty[FN#76] at once dust unite.
Full-moonlike of aspect, O thou whose fair face O'er all the
     creation sheds glory and light,
Thou'rt peerless midst mortals, the sovran of grace, And many a
     witness to this I can cite.
Thy brows are a Noun[FN#77] and shine eyes are a Sad,[FN#78]
     That the hand of the loving Creator did write;
Thy shape is the soft, tender sapling, that gives Of its
     bounties to all that its favours invite.
Yea, indeed, thou excellest the world's cavaliers In pleasance
     and beauty and bounty and might.

When she had finished, she wrote the verses on a sheet of paper, which she folded in a piece of gold-embroidered silk and laid under her pillow. Now one of her nurses saw her; so she came up to her and held her in talk, till she slept, when she stole the scroll from under her pillow and reading it, knew that she had fallen in love with Uns el Wujoud. Then she returned the scroll to its place and when her mistress awoke, she said to her, 'O my lady, indeed, I am to thee a faithful counsellor and am tenderly solicitous for thee. Know that passion is grievous and the hiding it melteth iron and causeth sickness and unease; nor is there reproach for whoso confesses it.' 'O my nurse,' rejoined Rose-in-bud,'and what is the remedy of passion?' 'The remedy of passion is enjoyment,' answered the nurse. 'And how may one come by enjoyment?' asked Rose-in-bud. 'By letters and messages,' replied the nurse, 'and many a tender word and greeting; this brings lovers together and makes hard matters easy. So, if thou have aught at heart, mistress mine, I will engage to keep thy secret and do thy need and carry thy letters.'

When the girl heard this, her reason fled for joy; but she restrained herself from speech, till she should see the issue of the matter, saying in herself, 'None knoweth this thing of me, nor will I trust this woman with my secret, till I have proved her.' Then said the nurse, 'O my lady, I saw in my sleep as though one came to me and said, "Thy mistress and Uns el Wujoud love one another; so do thou serve their loves by carrying their messages and doing their need and keeping their secrets; and much good shall befall thee." So now I have told thee my dream, and it is thine to decide.' 'O my nurse,' quoth Rose-in-bud, 'canst thou keep secrets?' 'And how should I not keep secrets,' answered the nurse, 'I that am of the flower of the free-born?' Then Rose-in-bud pulled out the scroll, on which she had written the verses afore said, and said to her,' Carry this my letter to Uns el Wujoud and bring me his answer.'

So the nurse took the letter and repairing to Uns el Wujoud, kissed his hands and saluted him right courteously, then gave him the letter; and he read it and wrote on the back the following verses:

I temper my heart in passion and hide my case as I may; But my
     case interprets for me and doth my love bewray.
And whenas my lids brim over with tears,—lest the spy should
     see And come to fathom my secret,—"My eye is sore," I
     say.
Of old I was empty-hearted and knew not what love was; But now
     I am passion's bondman, my heart to love's a prey.
To thee I prefer my petition, complaining of passion and pain,
     So haply thou mayst be softened and pity my dismay.
With the tears of my eye I have traced it, that so unto thee it
     may The tidings of what I suffer for thee to thee convey.
God watch o'er a visage, that veileth itself with beauty, a
     face That the full moon serves as a bondman and the stars
     as slaves obey!
Yea' Allah protect her beauty, whose like I ne'er beheld! The
     boughs from her graceful carriage, indeed, might learn to
     sway.
I beg thee to grant me a visit; algates, if it irk thee nought.
     An thou knewst how dearly I'd prize it, thou wouldst not
     say me nay.
I give thee my life, so haply thou mayst accept it: to me Thy
     presence is life eternal and hell thy turning away.

Then he folded the letter and kissing it, gave it to the nurse and said to her, 'O nurse, incline thy lady's heart to me.' 'I hear and obey,' answered she and carried the letter to her mistress, who kissed it and laid it on her head, then wrote at the foot of it these verses:

Harkye, thou whose heart is taken with my grace and loveliness,
     Have but patience, and right surely thou my favours shalt
     possess.
When we were assured the passion thou avouchedst was sincere
     And that that which us betided had betided thee no less,
Gladly had we then vouchsafed thee what thou sighedst for, and
     more; But our guardians estopped us to each other from
     access.
When night darkens on the dwellings, fires are lighted in our
     heart And our entrails burn within us, for desire and
     love's excess.
Yea, for love and longing, slumber is a stranger to our couch
     And the burning pangs of fever do our body sore distress.
'Twas a law of passion ever, love and longing to conceal; Lift
     not thou the curtain from us nor our secret aye
     transgress.
Ah, my heart is overflowing with the love of yon gazelle; Would
     it had not left our dwellings for the distant wilderness.

Then she folded the letter and gave it to the nurse, who took it and went out to go to the young man; but as she went forth the door, her master met her and said to her, 'Whither away?' 'To the bath,' answered she; but, in her trouble, she dropped the letter, without knowing it, and one of the servants, seeing it lying in the way, picked it up. When she came without the door, she sought for it, but found it not, so turned back to her mistress and told her of this and what had befallen her with the Vizier.

Meanwhile, the latter came out of the harem and seated himself on his couch. Presently, the servant, who had picked up the letter, came in to him, with it in his hand, and said, 'O my lord, I found this paper lying on the floor and picked it up.' So the Vizier took it from his hand, folded as it was, and opening it, read the verses above set down. Then he examined the writing and knew it for his daughter's hand; whereupon he went in to her mother, weeping so sore that his beard was drenched. 'What makes thee weep, O my lord?' asked she; and he answered, 'Take this letter and see what is therein.' So she took it and saw it to be a love-letter from her daughter Rose-in-bud to Uns el Wujoud; whereupon the tears sprang to her eyes; but she mastered herself and swallowing her tears, said to her husband, 'O my lord, there is no profit in weeping: the right course is to cast about for a means of preserving thine honour and concealing thy daughter's affair.' And she went on to comfort him and lighten his trouble. Quoth he, 'I am fearful of what may ensue this passion of my daughter, and that for two reasons. The first concerns myself; it is, that she is my daughter; the second, that Uns el Wujoud is a favourite with the Sultan, who loves him with an exceeding love, and maybe great troubles shall come of this affair. What deemest thou of the matter?' 'Wait,' answered she, 'whilst I pray to God for direction.' So she prayed a two-bow prayer, according to the prophetic ordinance of the prayer for divine guidance; after which she said to her husband, 'Amiddleward the Sea of Treasures stands a mountain called the Mount of the Bereaved Mother,' (the cause of which being so named shall follow in its place, if it be the will of God,) 'and thither can none come, save with difficulty; do thou make her an abiding-place there.'

So the Vizier and his wife agreed to build, on the mountain in question, a strong castle and lodge his daughter therein with a year's victual, to be annually renewed, and attendants to serve and keep her company. Accordingly, he collected builders and carpenters and architects and despatched them to the mountain, where they builded her an impregnable castle, never saw eyes its like. Then he made ready victual and carriage for the journey and going in to his daughter by night, bade her make ready to set out on a pleasure-excursion. She refused to set out by night, but he was instant with her, till she went forth; and when she saw the preparations for the journey, her heart misgave her of separation from her beloved and she wept sore and wrote upon the door the following verses, to acquaint him with what had passed and with the transports of passion and grief that were upon her, transports such as would make the flesh quake, that would cause the hearts of stones to melt and eyes to overflow with tears:

By Allah, O house, if the loved one pass in the morning-glow
     And greet with the greeting of lovers, as they pass to and
     fro,
Give him our salutation, a pure and fragrant one, For that we
     have departed, and whither he may not know.
Why on this wise they hurry me off by stealth, anights And
     lightly equipped, I know not, nor whither with me they go.
Neath cover of night and darkness, they carry me forth, alack I
     Whilst the birds in the brake bewail us and make their
     moan for our woe;
And the tongue of the case interprets their language and cries,
     "Alas, Alas for the pain of parting from those that we
     love, heigho!"
When I saw that the cups of sev'rance were filled and that
     Fate, indeed, Would give us to drink of its bitter,
     unmingled, would we or no,
I blended the draught with patience becoming, as best I might;
     But patience avails not to solace my heart for your loss,
     I trow.

Then she mounted, and they set forward with her and fared on over desert and plain and hill, till they came to the shore of the Sea of Treasures, where they pitched their tents and built a great ship, in which they embarked her and her suite and carried them over to the mountain. Here they left them in the castle and making their way back to the shore, broke up the vessel, in obedience to the Vizier's commandment, and returned home, weeping over what had befallen.

Meanwhile, Uns el Wujoud arose from sleep and prayed the morning prayer, after which he mounted and rode forth to wait upon the Sultan. On his way, he passed by the Vizier's house, thinking to see some of his followers, as of wont, but saw no one and drawing near the door, read the verses aforesaid written thereon. At this sight, his senses failed him; fire was kindled in his vitals and he returned to his lodging, where he passed the rest of the day in ceaseless trouble and anxiety, without finding ease or patience, till night darkened upon him, when his transport redoubled. So he put off his clothes and disguising himself in a fakir's habit, set out, at a venture, under cover of the night, distraught and knowing not whither he went.

He wandered on all that night and next day, till the heat of the sun grew fierce and the mountains flamed like fire and thirst was grievous upon him. Presently, he espied a tree, by whose side was a spring of running water; so he made towards it and sitting down in the shade, on the bank of the rivulet, essayed to drink, but found that the water had no taste in his mouth. Then, [looking in the stream,] he saw that his body was wasted, his colour changed and his face grown pale and his, feet, to boot, swollen with walking and weariness. So he shed copious tears and repeated the following verses:

The lover is drunken with love of his fair; In longing and heat
     he redoubles fore'er.
Love-maddened, confounded, distracted, perplexed, No dwelling
     is pleasant to him and no fare.
For how, to a lover cut off from his love, Can life be
     delightsome? 'Twere strange an it were.
I melt with the fire of my passion for her And the tears down
     my cheek roll and never forbear.
Shall I ever behold her or one from her stead, With whom I may
     solace my heart in despair?

And he wept till he wet the ground; after which he rose and fared on again over deserts and wilds, till there came out upon him a lion, with a neck buried in hair, a head the bigness of a dome, a mouth wider than the door [thereof] and teeth like elephants' tusks. When Uns el Wujoud saw him, he gave himself up for lost and turning towards Mecca, pronounced the professions of the faith and prepared for death.

Now he had read in books that whoso will flatter the lion, beguileth him, for that he is lightly duped by fair words and glorieth in praise; so he began and said, 'O lion of the forest and the waste! O unconquerable warrior! O father of heroes and Sultan of wild beasts! Behold, I am a desireful lover, whom passion and severance have undone. Since I parted from my beloved, I have lost my reason; wherefore, do thou hearken to my speech and have ruth on my passion and love-longing.' When the lion heard this, he drew back from him and sitting down on his hind-quarters, raised his head to him and began to frisk his tail and paws to him; which when Uns el Wujoud saw, he recited these verses:

Wilt slay me, O lord of the desert, before My enslaver I meet
     with, e'en her I adore?
No fat on me is; I'm no booty for thee; For the loss of my
     loved one hath wasted me sore.
Yea, my love's separation hath worn out my soul, And I'm grown
     like a shape, with a shroud covered o'er.
Give the railers not cause to exult in my woe, O prince of the
     spoilers, O lion of war!
A lover, all sleepless for loss of my dear, I'm drowned in the
     tears from mine eyelids that pour;
And my pining for her in the darkness of night Hath robbed me,
     for passion, of reason and lore.

When he had finished, the lion rose and coming softly up to him, with his eyes full of tears, licked him with his tongue, then walked on before him, signing to him, as who should say, 'Follow me.' So he followed him, and he led him on till he brought him, over a mountain, to the farther side, where he came upon the track of a caravan and knew it to be that of Rose-in-bud and her company. When the lion saw that he knew the track and set himself to follow it, he turned back and went his way; whilst Uns el Wujoud followed the foot-marks, till they brought him to a surging sea, swollen with clashing billows. The trail led down to the water's edge and there broke off; whereby he knew that they had taken ship there and had continued their journey by sea. So he lost hope of finding his beloved and repeated the following verses, weeping sore:

Far's the place of visitation and my patience faileth me For my
     love; but how to reach her o'er the abysses of the sea?
When, for love of her, my vitals are consumed and I've forsworn
     Slumber, sleep for wake exchanging, ah, how can I patient
     be?
Since the day she left the homesteads and departed, hath my
     heart Burnt with never-ceasing anguish, all a-fire with
     agony.
Oxus and Jaxartes, running like Euphrates, are my tears; More
     than rain and flood abounding, run like rivers to the sea.
Ulcerated are my eyelids with the running of the tears, And my
     heart on fires of passion's burnt and wasted utterly.
Yea, the armies of my longing and my transport on me pressed,
     And the hosts of my endurance did before them break and
     flee.
Lavishly my life I've ventured for the love of her; for life Is
     the lightest to a lover of all ventures, verily.
Be an eye of God unpunished that beheld the beauteous one, Than
     the moon how much more splendid, in the harem's sanctuary!
Struck was I and smitten prostrate by wide-opened eyes, whose
     shafts, From a bow all stringless loosened, pierced the
     hapless heart of me.
By the soft and flexile motions of her shape she captived me,
     Swaying as the limber branches sway upon the cassia-tree.
Union with her I covet, that therewith I may apply Solace to
     the pains of passion, love and care and misery.
For the love of her, afflicted, as I am, I have become; All
     that's fallen on me betided from the evil eye, perdie.

Then he wept, till he swooned away, and abode in his swoon a long while. When he came to himself, he looked right and left and seeing none in the desert, was fearful of the wild beasts; so he climbed to the top of a high mountain, where he heard a man's voice speaking within a cavern. He listened and found it to be that of a devotee, who had forsworn the world and given himself up to pious exercises. So he knocked thrice at the cavern door; but the hermit made him no answer, neither came forth to him; wherefore he sighed heavily and recited the following verses:

What way is open unto me, to my desire to get And put off
     weariness and toil and trouble and regret?
All pains and terrors have combined on me, to make me hoar And
     old of head and heart, whilst I a very child am yet.
I find no friend to solace me of longing and unease' Nor one
     'gainst passion and its stress to aid me and abet.
Alas, the torments I endure for waste and wistful love!
     Fortune, meseems, 'gainst me is turned and altogether set.
Ah, woe's me for the lover's pain, unresting, passion-burnt,
     Him who in parting's bitter cup his lips perforce hath
     wet!
His wit is ravished clean away by separation's woe, Fire in his
     heart and all consumed his entrails by its fret.
Ah, what a dreadful day it was, when to her stead I came And
     that, which on the door was writ, my eyes confounded met!
I wept, until I gave the earth to drink of my despair; But
     still from friend and foe I hid the woes that me beset.
Then strayed I forth till, in the waste, a lion sprang on me
     And would have slain me straight; but him with flattering
     words I met
And soothed him. So he spared my life and succoured me, as
     'twere He too had known love's taste and been entangled in
     its net.
Yet, for all this, could I but win to come to my desire, All,
     that I've suffered and endured, straightway I should
     forget.
O thou, that harbour'st in thy cave, distracted from the world,
     Meseems thou'st tasted love and been its slave, O
     anchoret!

Hardly had he made an end of these verses when, behold, the door of the cavern opened and he heard one say' 'Alas, the pity of it I' So he entered and saluted the hermit, who returned his greeting and said to him, 'What is thy name?' 'Uns el Wujoud,' answered the young man. 'And what brings thee hither?' asked the hermit. So he told him his whole story, whereat he wept and said' 'O Uns el Wujoud, these twenty years have I dwelt in this place, but never beheld I any here, till the other day, when I heard a noise of cries and weeping, and looking forth in the direction of the sound, saw much people and tents pitched on the sea-shore. They built a ship, in which they embarked and sailed away. Then some of them returned with the ship and breaking it up, went their way; and methinks those, who embarked in the ship and returned not, are they whom thou seekest. In that case, thy trouble must needs be grievous and thou art excusable; though never yet was lover but suffered sorrows.' Then he recited the following verses:

Uns el Wujoud, thou deem'st me free of heart, but, wel-a-way!
     Longing and transport and desire fold and unfold me aye.
Yea, love and passion have I known even from my earliest years,
     Since at my mother's nursing breast a suckling babe I lay.
I struggled sore and long with Love, till I his power
     confessed. If thou enquire at him of me, he will me not
     unsay.
I quaffed the cup of passion out, with languor and disease, And
     as a phantom I became for pining and decay.
Strong was I, but my strength is gone and neath the swords of
     eyes, The armies of my patience broke and vanished clean
     away.
Hope not to win delight of love, without chagrin and woe; For
     contrary with contrary conjoined is alway.
But fear not change from lover true; do thou but constant be
     Unto thy wish, and thou shalt sure be happy yet some day:
For unto lovers passion hath ordained that to forget Is heresy,
     forbidden all its mandates that obey.

Then he rose and coming to the youth, embraced him, and they wept together, till the hills rang with their crying and they fell down in a swoon. When they revived, they swore brotherhood in God the Most High, and the hermit said to Uns el Wujoud, 'This night will I pray to God and seek of Him direction what thou shouldst do to attain thy desire.'

To return to Rose-in-bud. When they brought her into the castle and she beheld its ordinance, she wept and exclaimed, 'By Allah, thou art a goodly place, save that thou lackest the presence of the beloved in thee!' Then, seeing [many] birds in the island, she bade her people set snares for them and hang up all they caught in cages within the castle; and they did so. But she sat at a window of the castle and bethought her of what had passed, and passion and transport and love-longing redoubled upon her, till she burst into tears and repeated the following verses:

To whom, of my desire complaining, shall I cry, To whom, for
     loss of loves and parting's sorrow, sigh?
Flames rage within my breast, but I reveal them not, For fear
     lest they my case discover to the spy.
I'm grown as thin as e'er a bodkin's wood, so worn With absence
     and lament and agony am I.
Where is the loved one's eye, to see how I'm become Even as a
     blasted tree, stripped bare and like to die?
They wronged me, when they shut me prisoner in a place, Wherein
     my love, alas I may never come me nigh.
Greetings a thousandfold I beg the sun to bear, What time he
     riseth up and setteth from the sky,
To a beloved one, who puts the moon to shame, For loveliness,
     and doth the Indian cane outvie.
If the rose ape his cheek, "Now God forfend," I say, "That of
     my portion aught to pilfer thou shouldst try."
Lo, in his mouth are springs of limpid water sweet, Refreshment
     that would bring to those in flames who lie.
How shall I one forget who is my heart and soul, My malady and
     he that healing can apply?

Then, as the shadows darkened upon her, her longing increased and she called to mind the past and recited these verses also:

The shadows darken and passion stirs up my sickness amain And
     longing rouses within me the old desireful pain.
The anguish of parting hath taken its sojourn in my breast And
     love and longing and sorrow have maddened heart and brain.
Passion hath made me restless and yearning consumes my soul And
     tears discover my secret, that else concealed had lain.
I know of no way to ease me of sickness and care and woe; Nor
     can my weak endeavour reknit Love's severed skein.
My heart is a raging furnace, because of the heat whereof My
     entrails are racked with anguish, that nothing can assain.
O thou, that thinkest to blame me for what is fallen on me,
     Enough, I suffer with patience whatever the Fates ordain.
I swear I shall ne'er find comfort nor be consoled for them,
     The oath of the children of passion, whose oaths are never
     in vain!
Bear tidings, O night, to my dear ones and greet them and
     witness bear That thou knowest in thee I sleep not, but
     ever to wake am fain.

Meanwhile, the hermit said to Uns el Wujoud, 'Go down into the valley and fetch me palm-fibre.' So he went and returned with the palm-fibre, which the hermit took and twisting into ropes, made therewith a net, such as is used for carrying straw; after which he said to the youth, 'O Uns el Wujoud, in the heart of the valley grows a gourd, which springs up and dries upon its roots. Go thither and fill this net therewith; then tie it together and casting it into the water, embark thereon and make for the midst of the sea, so haply thou shalt come to thy desire; for he, who adventureth not himself, shall not attain that he seeketh.' 'I hear and obey,' answered Uns el Wujoud and bidding the hermit farewell after he had prayed for him, betook himself to the hollow of the valley, where he did as he had counselled him and launched out upon the water, supported by the net.

Then there arose a wind, which drove him out to sea, till he was lost to the hermit's view; and he ceased not to fare on over the abysses of the ocean, one billow tossing him up on the crest of the wave and another bearing him down into the trough of the sea, and he beholding the while the terrors and wonders of the deep, for the space of three days, at the end of which time Fate cast him upon the Mount of the Bereft Mother, where he landed, weak and giddy as a fledgling bird, for hunger and thirst; but, finding there streams running and birds warbling on the branches and fruit-laden trees, growing in clusters and singly, he ate of the fruits and drank of the streams. Then he walked on till he saw some white thing alar off, and making for it, found that it was a strongly-fortified castle. So he went up to the gate and finding it locked, sat down by it.

He sat thus three days and on the fourth, the gate opened and an eunuch came out, who seeing Uns el Wujoud seated there, said to him, 'Whence comest thou and who brought thee hither?' Quoth he, 'I come from Ispahan and was travelling by sea with merchandise, when my ship was wrecked and the waves cast me upon this island.' When the eunuch heard this, he wept and embraced him, saying, 'God preserve thee, O [thou that bringest me the] fragrance of the beloved! Ispahan is my own country and I have there a cousin, the daughter of my father's brother, whom I loved and cherished from a child; but a people stronger than we fell upon us and taking me among other booty, docked me and sold me for an eunuch, whilst I was yet a lad; and this is how I come to be what I am.' Then he carried him into the courtyard of the castle, where he saw a great basin of water, surrounded by trees, on whose branches hung cages of silver, with doors of gold, and therein birds warbling and singing the praises of the Requiting King. In the first cage he came to was a turtle dove which, seeing him, raised her voice and cried out, saying, 'O Bountiful One!'[FN#79] Whereat he fell down in a swoon, but, presently coming to himself, sighed heavily and recited the following verses:

O turtle, art thou mad for love, as is my case? Then sing, 'O
     Bountiful!' and seek the Lord His grace!
Tell me, doth thy descant in joyance tale its rise Or in
     desireful pain, that in thy heart hath place?
If for desire thou moan'st of bygone loves or pin'st For dear
     ones that have gone and left thee but their trace,
Or if thou'st lost thy love, like me, ah, then, indeed,
     Severance long-felt desire discovereth apace.
God guard a lover true! Though my bones rot, nor time Nor
     absence from my heart her image shall efface.

Then he fainted again and presently coming to his senses, went on to the second cage, wherein he found a ring-dove. When it saw him, it sang out, 'O Eternal, I praise thee!' and he sighed and recited these verses:

I heard a ring-dove say in her plaintive note, "Despite of my
     woes, O Eternal, I praise Thee still!"
And God, of His grace, reunion of our loves, in this my travel,
     may yet to us fulfil.
She visits me oft,[FN#80] with her dusk-red honeyed lips, And
     lends to the passion within me an added thrill.
And I cry, whilst the fires in my tortured heart flame high And
     my soul for ardour consumes and my eyes distil
Tears that resemble blood and withouten cease Pour down on my
     wasted cheeks in many a rill,
There's none created without affliction, and I Must bear with
     patience my tribulations, until
The hour of solace with her I love one day Unite me. Ah, then,
     by God His power and will,
In succouring lovers, I vow, I'll spend my good, For they're of
     my tribe and category still;
And eke from prison I'll loose the birds, to boot, And leave,
     for joyance, the thought of every ill!

Then he went on to the third cage, in which was a mocking-bird. When it saw him, it set up a song, and he recited the following verses:

The mocking-bird delighteth me with his harmonious strain, As
     'twere a lover's voice that pines and wastes for love in
     vain.
Woe's me for those that lovers be! How many a weary night, For
     love and anguish and desire, to waken they are fain!
'Twould seem as if they had no part in morning or in sleep, For
     all the stress of love and woe that holds their heart and
     brain.
When I became distraught for her I love and wistfulness Bound
     me in fetters strait, the tears from out mine eyes did
     rain
So thick and fast, they were as chains, and I to her did say,
     "My tears have fallen so thick, that now they've bound me
     with a chain."
The treasures of my patience fail, absence is long on me And
     yearning sore; and passion's stress consumeth me amain.
If God's protection cover me and Fortune be but just And Fate
     with her whom I adore unite me once again,
I'll doff my clothes, that she may see how worn my body is, For
     languishment and severance and solitary pain.

Then he went on to the fourth cage, where he found a nightingale, which, at sight of him, began to tune its plaintive note. When he heard its descant, he burst into tears and repeated the following verses:

The nightingale's note, when the dawning is near, Distracts
     from the lute-strings the true lover's ear.
Complaineth, for love-longing, Uns el Wujoud, Of a passion that
     blotteth his being out sheer.
How many sweet notes, that would soften, for mirth, The
     hardness of iron and stone, do I hear!
The zephyr of morning brings tidings to me Of meadows,
     full-flower'd for the blossoming year.
The scents on the breeze and the music of birds, In the
     dawning, transport me with joyance and cheer.
But I think of a loved one, that's absent from me, And mine
     eyes rain in torrents, with tear upon tear;
And the ardour of longing flames high in my breast, As a fire
     in the heart of a brasier burns clear.
May Allah vouchsafe to a lover distraught To see and foregather
     once more with his dear!
Yea, for lovers, heart-sickness and longing and woe And wake
     are excuses that plainly appear.

Then he went on a little and came to a handsome cage, than which there was no goodlier there, and in it a culver, that is to Say, a wood-pigeon, the bird renowned among the birds as the singer of love-longing, with a collar of jewels about its neck, wonder-goodly of ordinance. He considered it awhile and seeing it mazed and brooding in its cage, shed tears and repeated these verses:

O culver of the copse, may peace upon thee light, O friend of
     all who love and every wistful wight!
I love a young gazelle, a slender one, whose glance Than
     sharpest sabre's point is keener and more bright.
For love of her, my heart and entrails are a-fire And
     sicknesses consume my body and my spright.
The sweet of pleasant food's forbidden unto me, And eke I am
     denied the taste of sleep's delight.
Solace and fortitude have taken flight from me, And love and
     longing lodge with me, both day and night.
How shall my life be sweet to me, while she's afar, That is my
     life, my wish, the apple of my sight?

When the pigeon heard these verses, it awoke from its brooding and cooed and warbled and trilled, till it all but spoke; and the tongue of the case interpreted for it and recited the following verses:

O lover, thy wailings recall to my mind The time when my youth
     from me wasted and dwined,
And A mistress, whose charms and whose grace I adored,
     Seductive and fair over all of her kind;
Whose voice, from the twigs of the sandhill upraised, Left the
     strains of the flute, to my thought, far behind.
A snare set the fowler and caught me, who cried, "Would he d
     leave me to range at my will on the wind!"
I had hoped he was clement or seeing that I Was a lover, would
     pity my lot and be kind;
But no, (may God smite him!) he tore me away From my dear and
     apart from her harshly confined.
Since then, my desire for her grows without cease, And my heart
     with the fires of disjunction is mined.
God guard a true lover, who striveth with love And hath
     suffered the torments in which I have pined!
When he seeth me languish for love in my cage, He will loose
     me, in mercy, my loved one to find

Then Uns el Wujoud turned to his friend, the Ispahani and said to him, 'What palace is this? Who built it and who abideth in it?' Quoth the eunuch, 'The Vizier of King Shamikh built it for his daughter, fearing for her the assaults of fate and the vicissitudes of fortune, and lodged her therein, with her attendants; nor do we open it save once in every year, when our victual comes to us.' And Uns el Wujoud said in himself, 'I have gained my end' though after long travail.'

Meanwhile, Rose-in-bud took no delight in eating nor drinking, sitting nor sleeping; but her transport and passion and love-longing redoubled on her, and she went wandering about the castle, but could find no issue; wherefore she shed plenteous tears and recited the following verses:

They have prisoned me straitly from him I adore And given me to
     eat of mine anguish galore.
My heart with the flames of love-longing they fired, When me
     from the sight of my loved one they bore.
They have cloistered me close in a palace built high On a mount
     in the midst of a sea without shore.
If they'd have me forget, their endeavour is vain, For my love
     but redoubles upon me the more.
How can I forget him, when all I endure Arose from the sight of
     his face heretofore?
My days are consumed in lament, and my nights Pass in thinking
     of him, as I knew him of yore.
His memory my solace in solitude is, Since the lack of his
     presence I needs must deplore.
I wonder, will Fate grant my heart its desire And my love,
     after all, to my wishes restore!

Then she donned her richest clothes and trinkets and threw a necklace of jewels around her neck; after which she ascended to the roof of the castle and tying some strips of Baalbek stuff together, [to serve for a rope], made them fast to the battlements and let herself down thereby to the ground. Then she fared on over wastes and wilds, till she came to the sea-shore, where she saw a fishing-boat, and therein a fisherman, whom the wind had driven on to the island, as he went, fishing here and there, on the sea. When he saw her, he was affrighted, [ taking her for a Jinniyeh] and put out again to sea; but she cried out and made pressing signs to him to return, reciting the following verses:

Harkye, O fisherman, fear thou no injury; I'm but an earthly
     maid, a mortal like to thee.
I do implore thee, stay, give ear unto my prayer And hearken to
     my true and woeful history.
Pity, (so God thee spare,) the ardour [of my love,] And say if
     thou hast seen a loved one, fled from me.
I love a fair-faced youth and goodly; brighter far Of aspect
     than the face of sun or moon is he.
The antelope, that sees his glances, cries, "His slave Am I,"
     and doth confess inferiority.
Yea, beauty on his brow these pregnant words hath writ In very
     dust of musk, significant to see,
"Who sees the light of love is in the way of right, And he who
     strays commits foul sin and heresy."
An thou have ruth on me and bring me to his sight, O rare!
     Whate'er thou wilt thy recompense shall be;
Rubies and precious stones and freshly gathered pearls And
     every kind of gem that is in earth and sea.
Surely, O friend, thou wilt with my desire comply; For all my
     heart's on fire with love and agony.

When the fisherman heard this, he wept and sighed and lamented; then, recalling what had betided himself in the days of his youth, when love had the mastery over him and transport and love-longing and distraction were sore upon him and the fires of passion consumed him, replied with these verses:

Indeed, the lover's excuse is manifest, Wasting of body and
     streaming tears, unrest,
Eyes, in the darkness that waken still, and heart, As 'twere a
     fire-box, bespeak him love-oppress.
Passion, indeed, afflicted me in youth, And I good money from
     bad learnt then to test.
My soul I bartered, a distant love to win; To gain her favours,
     I wandered East and West;
And eke I ventured my life against her grace And deemed the
     venture would bring me interest.
For law of lovers it is that whoso buys His love's possession
     with life, he profits best.

Then he moored his boat to the shore and bade her embark, saying, 'I will carry thee whither thou wilt.' So she embarked and he put off with her; but they had not gone far, before there came out a stern-wind upon the boat and drove it swiftly out of sight of land. The fisherman knew not whither he went, and the wind blew without ceasing three days, at the end of which time it fell, by leave of God the Most High, and they sailed on, till they came in sight of a city builded upon the seashore, and the fisherman set about making fast to the land.

Now the King of the city, a very powerful prince called Dirbas, was at that moment sitting, with his son, at a window in the palace giving upon the sea, and chancing to look out to sea-ward, they saw the fishing-boat enter the harbour. They observed it narrowly and espied therein a young lady, as she were the full moon in the mid-heaven, with pendants in her ears of fine balass rubies and a collar of precious stones about her neck. So the King knew that this must be the daughter of some king or great noble, and going forth of the sea-gate of the palace, went down to the boat, where he found the lady asleep and the fisherman busied in making fast to the shore. He went up to her and aroused her, whereupon she awoke, weeping; and he said to her, 'Whence comest thou and whose daughter art thou and what brings thee hither?' 'I am the daughter of Ibrahim, Vizier to King Shamikh,' answered she; 'and the manner of my coming hither is strange and the cause thereof extraordinary.' And she told him her whole story, hiding nought from him; then she sighed deeply and recited the following verses:

Tears have mine eyelids wounded sore, and wonder-fast they flow
     Adown my cheek for parting's pain and memory and woe,
For a beloved's sake, who dwells for ever in my heart, Though
     to foregather with himself I cannot win, heigho!
Fair, bright and brilliant is his face, in loveliness and
     grace, Turk, Arab and barbarian he cloth indeed o'ercrow.
The full moon and the sun contend in deference to him, And when
     he rises into sight, they, lover-like, bend low.
His eyes with wondrous witchery are decked, as 'twere with
     kohl; Even as a bow, that's bent to shoot its shafts, to
     thee they show.
O thou, to whom I have perforce revealed my case, have ruth On
     one with whom the shifts of love have sported long eno'.
Lo, broken-hearted, Love hath cast me up upon thy coast,
     Wherefore I trust that thou on me fair favour wilt bestow.
The noble who, when folk of worth alight within their bounds,
     Do honour and protect them, win increase of glory so.
Cover thou then, my lord, my hope, two lovers' follies up And
     let them to thy succouring hand their loves' reunion owe.

Then she shed plenteous tears and recited these verses also:

I lived, a marvel till I saw in love, then lived no mo'; Each
     month to thee as Rejeb[FN#81] be, as free from fear of
     foe!
Is it not strange that, on the morn they went away, I lit Fire
     in my vitals with the tears that from mine eyes did flow?
Indeed, mine eyelids ran with blood, and on the wasted plain Of
     my sad cheek, that therewithal was watered, gold did grow.
Yea, for the safflower hue, that thence o'erspread my cheeks,
     they seem The shirt of Joseph, steeped in blood, to make a
     lying show.

When the King heard this, he was certified of her passion and love-longing and was moved to compassion for her; so he said to her, 'Fear nothing and be not troubled; thou hast attained the term of thy wishes; for needs must I bring thee to thy desire.' And he recited the following verses:

Daughter if nobles, thou hast reached thy wishes' goal, I trow:
     In happy presage then rejoice and fear not any woe.
Treasures this very day, will I collect and neath escort Of
     horsemen and of champions, to Shamikh they shall go.
Brocade and bladders full of musk I will to him despatch And
     eke white silver and red gold I'll send to him also.
Yea, and a letter neath my hand my wish for ties of kin And for
     alliance with himself shall give him eke to know;
And all endeavour will I use, forthwith, that he thou lov'st
     Once more with thee may be conjoined, to part from thee no
     mo.
I, too, have battened upon love and know the taste thereof And
     can excuse the folk who've quaffed the self-same cup of
     woe.

Then, returning to his palace, he summoned his Vizier and causing pack him up countless treasure, bade him carry it to King Shamikh and say to him, 'The King is minded to ally himself with thee by marrying Uns el Wujoud, shine officer, to his daughter. So needs must thou send him with me, that the marriage may be solemnized in her father's kingdom.' And he wrote a letter to King Shamikh, to this effect, and gave it to the Vizier, charging him without fail bring back Uns el Wujoud, on pain of deposition from his office. 'I hear and obey,' answered the Vizier and setting out forthright, in due course arrived at the court of King Shamikh, to whom he delivered the letter and presents, saluting him in the name of King Dirbas. When Shamikh read the letter and saw the name of Uns el Wujoud, he burst into tears and said to the Vizier, 'And where is Uns el Wujoud? He went away, and we know not his place of abiding. Bring him to me, and I will give thee the sum of the presents thou hast brought me, twice told.' And he wept and sighed and groaned, reciting the following verses:

Him whom I loved to me restore; By gold and gifts I set no
     store.
Nor do I crave largesse, indeed, Of pearls and gems and
     precious ore.
As 'twere a moon at full, for us, In beauty's heaven he did
     soar.
Passing in wit and grace, gazelles With him comparison gave
     o'er.
His shape was as a willow-wand, For fruits that sweet
     seductions bore;
But in the willow, to enslave The hearts of men, there is no
     lore.
I reared him from a child upon The bed of fondness evermore;
And now I am at heart distraught For him and sorrow passing
     sore.

Then said he to the Vizier, 'Go back to thy master and tell him that Uns el Wujoud has been missing this year past, and his lord knoweth not whither he is gone nor hath any news of him.' 'O my lord,' answered King Dirbas's Vizier, 'my master said to me, "An thou come back without him, thou shalt be ousted from the Vizierate and shall not enter my city." How then can I return without him?' So King Shamikh said to his Vizier Ibrahim, 'Take a company and go with him and make search for Uns el Wujoud everywhere.' 'I hear and obey,' answered Ibrahim, and taking a company of his own retainers, set out in quest of Uns el Wujoud, accompanied by King Dirbas's Vizier; and as often as they fell in with Bedouins or others, they enquired at them of Uns el Wujoud, saying, 'Have ye seen a man, whose name is so and so and his favour thus and thus?' But they answered, 'We know him not.'

So they fared on, enquiring in city and hamlet and seeking in hill and plain and desert and wold, till they came to the sea-shore, where they took ship and sailed, till they came to the Mountain of the Bereaved Mother; and King Dirbas's Vizier said to Ibrahim, 'Why is this mountain thus called?' 'There was once of old time,' answered the other Vizier, 'a Jinniych, of the Jinn of China, who fell passionately in love with a man and being in fear of her own people, searched all the earth for a place, where she might hide him from them, till she happened on this mountain and finding it inaccessible both to men and Jinn, carried off her beloved and lodged him therein. There she used to visit him privily, till she had borne him a number of children, and the merchants, sailing by the mountain, in their voyages over the sea, heard the weeping of the children, as it were the wailing of a woman who had lost her young, and said, "Is there here a mother bereaved of her children?" For which reason the place was named the Mountain of the Bereaved Mother.' And King Dirbas's Vizier marvelled at this.

Then they landed and making for the castle, knocked at the gate, which was opened to them by an eunuch, who knew the Vizier Ibrahim and kissed his hands. Ibrahim entered and finding in the courtyard, among the serving men, a man in the habit of a fakir,[FN#82] said. 'Whence comes yonder fellow?' Quoth they, 'He is a merchant, who hath lost his goods by shipwreck, but saved himself on a plank; and he is an ecstatic.'[FN#83] Now this was none other than Uns el Wujoud, [but the Vizier knew him not]; so he left him and went on into the castle. He found there no trace of his daughter and questioned her women, who answered, 'She abode with us but a little while and went away, how and whither we know not.' Whereupon he wept sore and repeated the following verses:

O house, whose birds warbled for joyance whilere And whose
     sills were resplendent with glory and pride,
Till the lover came to thee, bemooning himself For his passion,
     and found thy doors open and wide,
Would I knew where my soul is, my soul that was late In a
     house, where its masters no longer abide!
Therein were all things that are costly and rich And with suits
     of brocade it was decked, like a bride.
Yea, happy and honoured its doorkeeper were. Would God I knew
     whither its mistress hath tried!

Then he wept and sighed and bemoaned himself, exclaiming, 'There is no resource against the ordinance of God neither is there any escape from that which He hath decreed!' Then he went up to the roof and finding the strips of Baalbek stuff tied to the battlements and hanging down to the ground, knew that she had descended thence and had fled forth, as one distracted and mad with passion. Presently, he turned and seeing there two birds, an owl and a raven, deemed this an ill omen; so he groaned and recited these verses:

Unto the loved ones' stead I came, as hoping, by their sight,
     To quench the fire that burnt in me of love-longing and
     woe;
But no beloved found I there, nor aught, indeed, I found, Save
     two ill-omened ones, an owl And eke a corby-crow.
And quoth the tongue o' the case to me, "Thou hast been
     tyrannous And hast two longing lovers torn, the one the
     other fro!
Taste of the anguish, then, of love what thou hast made them
     taste And live, 'twixt agony and tears, in sorrow evermo."

Then he descended, weeping, and bade the servants go forth and search the island for their mistress; so they sought for her, but found her not. As for Uns el Wujoud, when he was certified that Rose-in-bud was indeed gone, he gave a great cry and fell down in a swoon, nor came to himself for a long time, whilst the folk deemed that a ravishment from the Merciful One had taken him and that he was absorbed in contemplation of the splendour of the majesty of the Requiter of good and evil. Then, despairing of finding Uns el Wujoud and seeing that Ibrahim was distracted for the loss of his daughter, King Dirbas's Vizier addressed himself to return to his own country, for all he had not attained the object of his journey, and said to Ibrahim? 'I have a mind to take yonder fakir with me; it may be God, for his sake, will incline the King's heart to me, for that he is a holy man; and after, I will send him to Ispahan, which is near our country.' 'Do &as thou wilt,' answered Ibrahim.

So they took leave of one another and departed, each for his own country, King Dirbas's Vizier carrying with him Uns el Wujoud, who was still insensible. They bore him with them on muleback, unknowing if he were carried or not, for three days, at the end of which time he came to himself and said, 'Where am I?' 'Thou art in company with King Dirbas's Vizier,' answered they and went and told the latter, who sent him rose-water and sherbet of sugar, of which they gave him to drink and restored him. Then they fared on till they drew near King Dirbas's capital and the King, being advised of his Vizier's coming, wrote to him, saying, 'An Uns el Wujoud be not with thee, come not to me ever.'

When the Vizier read the royal mandate, it was grievous to him, for he knew not that Rose-in-bud was with the King nor why he had sent him in quest of Uns el Wujoud, neither knew he that the fakir he had with him was Uns el Wujoud himself; and the latter in like manner knew not whither they were bound nor that the Vizier had been despatched in quest of himself. So, when he saw him thus chagrined, he said to him, 'What ails thee?' And he answered, 'I was sent by the King on an errand, which I have not been able to accomplish. So, when he heard of my return, he wrote to me? saying, "Enter not my city, except thou have fulfilled my need."' 'And what is the King's need?' asked Uns el Wujoud. So the Vizier told him the case, and he said, 'Fear nothing, but go boldly to the King and take me with thee; and I will be surety to thee for the coming of Uns el Wujoud.' At this the Vizier rejoiced and said, 'Is this true that thou sayest?' 'Yes,' answered he; whereupon the Vizier mounted and carried him to King Dirbas, who said to him, 'Where is Uns el Wujoud?' 'O King,' answered the young man, 'I know where he is.' So the King called him to him and said, 'Where?' 'Near at hand, replied Uns d Wujoud. 'Tell me what thou wouldst with him, and I will fetch him to thee.' 'With all my heart,' answered the King; 'but the case calls for privacy.'

So he bade the folk withdraw and, carrying Uns el Wujoud into his closet, told him the whole story; whereupon quoth the youth, 'Clothe me in rice apparel, and I will eftsoons bring Uns el Wujoud to thee.' So they brought him a sumptuous dress, and he donned it and said, 'I am the Delight of the World[FN#84] and the Mortification of the Envious.' So saying, he transfixed ail hearts with his glances and recited the following verses:

My loved one's memory cheers me still in this my solitude And
     doth wanhope from me away, as I in absence brood.
I have no helper but my tears; yet, when from out mine eyes
     They flow, they lighten my despair and ease my drearihood.
Sore is my longing; yea, it hath no like and my affair In love
     and passion's marvellous, beyond all likelihood.
I lie the night long, wakeiul-eyed,—no sleep is there for
     me,—And pass, for love, from heaven to hell, according to
     my mood.
Yea, patience fair some time I had, but have it now no more;
     And longing and chagrin increase upon me, like a flood.
Indeed, my body's worn to nought, for severance from her;
     Yearnings my aspect and my form to change have all
     subdued.
Mine eyelids ulcerated are with weeping, nor can I Avail to
     stay the constant tears, wherewith they're still bedewed.
Indeed, I can no more; my strength, my very vitals fail. How
     many sorrows have I borne, on sorrows still renewed!
My heart and head are grizzled grown, for loss of a princess In
     beauty, sure, the fairest maid that ever lover wooed.
In her despite, our parting was, for no desire hath she Save to
     be joined with me and feed once more on lovers' food.
I wonder, will my fate to me union vouchsafe with her I
     cherish, after absence long and stress of lonelihood,
And shut the book of severance up, that now is open wide, And
     blot out troubles from my thought with love's supremest
     good?
Shall my beloved, in my land, my cup-companion be And sorrow
     and affliction be by pure delight ensued?

'By Allah,' exclaimed the King, 'ye are, indeed, a pair of true lovers and in the heaven of beauty two shining stars! Your story is marvellous and your case extraordinary.' Then he told him all that had befallen Rose-in-bud; and Uns el Wujoud said, 'Where is she, O King of the age?' 'She is with me now,' answered Dirbas and sending for the Cadi and the witnesses, drew up the contract of marriage between her and him. Then he loaded Uns el Wujoud with favours and bounties and sent to King Shamikh, advising him of what had befallen, whereat the latter rejoiced with an exceeding joy and wrote back to him, saying, 'Since the marriage contract hath been drawn up at thy court! it behoves that the wedding and consummation be at mine.' And he made ready camels and horses and men and sent them in quest of the lovers.

When the embassy reached King Dirbas, he gave the pair great store of treasure and despatched them to King Shamikh's court with an escort of his own troops. The day of their arrival was a notable day, never was seen a greater; for the King assembled all the singers and players on instruments of music and made banquets and held high festival seven days; and on each day he gave largesse to the folk and bestowed on them sumptuous dresses of honour. Then Uns el Wujoud went in to Rose-in-bud, and they embraced and sat weeping for excess of joy and gladness, whilst she recited the following verses:

Gladness is come, dispelling grief and putting care aside; We
     are united now and have our enviers mortified.
The fragrant breeze of union blows fresh and sweet for us,
     Whereby our bodies, vitals, hearts are all revivified.
The splendour of fulfilled delight in all its glory shines, And
     for glad tidings beat the drums about us far and wide.
Think not we weep for stress Of grief or for affliction; nay,
     It is for joy our tears flow down and will not be denied.
How many terrors have we seen, that now are past away! Yet we
     each agonizing strait did patiently abide.
In one hour of delight have we forgotten all the woes, Whose
     stresses made us twain, whilom, grey-haired and
     hollow-eyed.

Then they clipped each other and ceased not from their embrace, till they fell down in a swoon, for the ecstasy of reunion; and when they came to themselves, Uns d Wujoud recited these verses:

Ah, how peerlessly sweet are the nights of delight, When the
     loved one to me keeps the troth she did plight,
When enjoyment enjoyment ensues and the bonds Of estrangement
     between us are sundered outright,
And fortune is come to us, favouring and fair, After turning
     away with aversion and spite!
Fair fortune hath set up her standards for us And we drink from
     her hand a cup pure of affright.
United, our woes each to each we recount And the nights when in
     torments we watched for the light.
But now, O my lady, forgotten have we Our griefs, and God
     pardon the past its upright!
How pleasant, how lovesome, how joyous is life! Enjoyment my
     passion doth only excite.

Then they gave themselves up anew to the pleasures of the nuptial bed and passed seven whole days thus, carousing and conversing and reciting verses and telling pleasant tales and anecdotes, in the intervals of amorous dalliance; for so drowned were they in the sea of passion, that they knew not night from day and it was to them, for very stress of joy and gladness and pleasure and delight, as if the seven days were but one day, and that without a morrow. Nor did they know the seventh day, but by the coming of the singers and players on instruments of music;[FN#85] whereat Rose-in-bud was beyond measure wondered and improvised the following verses:

Despite the enviers' rage and malice of the spy, I've won of
     him I love my wish to satisfy;
Yea, we have crowned our loves with many a close embrace, On
     cushions of brocade and silken stuffs piled high
Upon a couch full soft, of perfumed leather made And stuffed
     with down of birds of rarest kind that fly.
Thanks to the honeyed dews of my beloved's lips, Illustrious
     past compare, no need of wine have I.
Yea, for the sweet excess of our fulfilled delight, The present
     from the past we know, nor far from nigh.
A miracle indeed! Seven nights o'er us have passed, Without our
     taking note of how they flitted by;
Till, on the seventh day, they wished us joy and said, "Your
     union God prolong to all eternity!"

When she had finished, Uns el Wujoud kissed her, more than a hundred times, and recited the following verses:

O day of pure delight and mutual happiness! The loved one came
     and set me free from loneliness.
She blest me with the sweets of all her glorious charms, What
     while her converse filled my spirit with liesse.
She plied me with the wine of amorous delight, Till all my
     senses failed, for very drunkenness.
Yea, merry each with each we made, together lay, Then fell to
     wine and did, in song, our cheer express;
Nor knew we, of the days that fleeted over us, The present from
     the past, for very joy's excess.
Fair fall all those that love of ease and twinned delight, And
     joy to them fulfil its promise none the less!
Ne'er may they know the taste of parting's bitter cup! God
     succour them as me He succoured in my stress!

Then they went forth and distributed to the folk alms and largesse of money and raiment and so forth; after which Rose-in-bud bade empty the bath for her and turning to Uns el Wujoud, said to him' 'O solace of my eyes, I have a mind to see thee in the bath; and we will be alone together therein.' He gladly consented to this, and she bade perfume the bath for them with all manner of scented woods and essences and light the candles. Then, of the excess of her contentment, she recited the following Verses:

O thou aforetime of my heart that mad'st prize (And the present
     for us on the past still relies),
Thou, the only companion I crave, for to me None other the want
     of thy presence supplies,
To the bath,—that in midst of hell-fire we may see Even
     Paradise shining,—come, light of mine eyes!
We will scent it with ambergris, aloes and musk, Till the
     fragrance in clouds from all quarters arise.
Yea, Fortune we'll pardon her sins and give thanks, For His
     grace, to the Merciful One, the All-Wise;
And I'll say, when I see thee therein, "O my love, All delights
     be thy lot in the earth and the skies!"

So they went to the bath and took their pleasure there in; after which they returned to their palace and there abode in the fulness of delight, till there came to them the Destroyer of Delights and the Sunderer of Companies; and glory be to Him who changeth not neither ceaseth and in whom all things have their term!

ABOU NUWAS WITH THE THREE BOYS AND THE KHALIF HAROUN ER RESHID.

Abou Nuwas one day shut himself up and making ready a richly- furnished saloon, set out therein a banquet of meats of all kinds and colours that lips and tongue can desire. Then he went forth, to seek a minion who should befit the entertainment, saying, 'O my God and my Master and my Lord, I beseech Thee to send me one worthy of this banquet and apt to carouse with me this day!' Hardly had he made an end of speaking, when he espied three handsome beardless youths, as they were of the children of Paradise, differing in complexion but equal in perfection of beauty; and all hearts yearned with desire to the graceful bending of their shapes, even to what saith the poet:

Two beardless youths I happened on one day And said "I love
     you." "Hast thou pelf?" asked they.
"Yes," answered I, "and liberality." "Then is the matter easy,"
     did they say.

Now Abou Nuwas was on this wise given and loved to sport and make merry with the fair and cull the rose from every fresh- flowered cheek, even as saith the poet:

Full many a graybeard is amorous and loves Fair faces and music
     and dalliance and glee:
From Mosul, the country of pureness,[FN#86] he comes, Yet
     nought but Aleppo[FN#87] remembereth he.

So he accosted them with the salutation, and they returned his greeting with all honour and civility and would have gone their way; but he stayed them, repeating these verses:

To none but me your footsteps steer; For I have store of all
     good cheer;
Wine that the heart of convent monk Would glad, so bright it is
     and clear;
And flesh of sheep, to boot, have I And birds of land and sea
     and mere.
Eat ye of these and drink old wine, That doth away chagrin and
     fear.

The boys were beguiled by his verses and consented to his wishes, saying, 'We hear and obey.' So he carried them to his lodging, where they found all ready that he had set forth in his verses. They sat down and ate and drank and made merry awhile, after which they appealed to Abou Nuwas to decide which was the handsomest and most shapely of them. So he pointed to one of them, after having kissed him twice, and recited the following verses:

With my life I will ransom the mole, on the cheek of the
     loveling that is; For how should I ransom it else with
     treasure or aught but my soul?
And blessed for ever be He who fashioned his cheek without hair
     And made, of His power and His might, all beauty to dwell
     in yon mole!

Then he pointed to another and kissing his lips, repeated these verses:

There's a loveling hath a mole upon his cheek, As 'twere musk
     on virgin camphor, so to speak.
My eyes marvel when they see it. Quoth the mole, "Heaven's
     blessing on the Prophet look ye seek!"[FN#88]

Then he pointed to the third and repeated the following verses, after kissing him half a score times:

All in a silver cup he melted gold full fine, A youth whose
     hands were dyed in ruby-coloured wine,
And with the skinkers went and handed round one cup Of wine,
     whilst other two were proffered by his eyne.
Fairer than all the Turks, an antelope, whose waist Together
     would attract the mountains of Hunain.[FN#89]
An if I were content with crooked[FN#90] womankind, Betwixt
     attractions twain would be this heart of mine.
One love towards Diyarbeker[FN#91] drawing it, and one That
     draws it, otherguise, to the land of Jamiain.[FN#92]

Now each of the youths had drunk two cups, and when it came to Abou Nuwas's turn, he took the goblet and repeated these verses:

Drink not of wine except it be at the hands of a loveling slim,
     Who in brightness of soul resembles it and it resembles
     him.
The drinker of wine, in very truth, hath no delight thereof,
     Except the cheek of the fair be pure, who doth the goblet
     brim.

Then he drank off his cup, and when it came round to Him again, joyance got the mastery of him and he repeated The following verses:

Make thou thy boon-fellow of cups, brimmed up as full as this,
     And eke to follow cup with cup, I rede thee, do not miss,
Poured by a damask-lipped one's hand, a wonder-lovely fair,
     Whose mouth's sweet water, after sleep, as musk on apple
     is.
Drink not of wine, except it be from the hand of a gazelle,
     Whose cheek is goodlier than itself and sweeter still his
     kiss.

Presently, the wine crept to his head, drunkenness mastered him and he knew not hand from head, so that he swayed about for mirth, inclining anon to this one, to kiss him, and anon to another. Then he fell to glorying in himself and his case and the goodliness of his entertainment and his companions, and recited these verses:

None knoweth perfection of pleasure but he Who drinketh, with
     fair ones to hearten him still.
This sings to him, t'other, when cheer him would be, Revives
     him forthright with the cups he doth fill;
And whenever from one he hath need of a kiss, Long draughts
     from his lips, at his case, he doth swill.
God bless them! Right sweet has my day with them been, And
     wonder delightsome and void of all ill!
We drank of the wine cup, both mingled and pure, And agreed
     whoso slept, we should touzle at will.

At this moment, there came a knocking at the door; so they bade him who knocked enter, and behold, it was the Khalif Haroun er Reshid. When they saw him, they all rose to him and kissed the ground before him; and the fumes of the wine forsook Abou Nuwas's head for awe of the Khalif, who said to him, 'Hallo, Abou Nuwas!' 'At thy service, O Commander of the Faithful,' answered he, 'may God preserve thee!' 'What state is this I find thee in?' asked the Khalif; and the poet replied, 'O Commander of the Faithful, methinks my state dispenses with question.' Quoth the Khalif, 'O Abou Nuwas, I have sought direction of God the Most High and appoint thee Cadi of whoremasters.' 'Dost thou indeed invest me with that office, O Commander of the Faithful?' asked Abou Nuwas. 'I do,' replied the Khalif. 'Then, O Commander of the Faithful,' rejoined Abou Nuwas, 'hast thou any suit to prefer to me?' At this the Khalif was wroth and turned away and left them, full of rage, and passed the night, sore angered against Abou Nuwas, whilst the latter spent the merriest and most easeful of nights, till the day dawned and the morning-star appeared and shone, when he broke up the sitting and dismissing the boys, donned his court- dress and set out for the Khalif's palace.

Now it was the latter's custom, when the Divan broke up, to withdraw to his sitting-chamber and summon thither his poets and minions and musicians, each having his own place, which he might not overpass. So, that day, he retired to his saloon, and the minions came and seated themselves, each in his place. Presently, in came Abou Nuwas and was about to take his usual seat, when the Khalif cried out to Mesrour the headsman and bade him strip the poet of his clothes and clap an ass's pannel on his back. Moreover, he charged him bind a halter about his head and a crupper under his rear and carry him round to all the lodgings of the slave-girls and the chambers of the harem, that the women might make mock of him; then cut off his head and bring it to him. 'I hear and obey,' replied Mesrour and accoutring Abou Nuwas, as the Khalif had bidden him, carried him round to all the lodgings of the harem, in number as the days of the year; but he made all the girls laugh with his buffooneries and each gave him something, so that he returned with a pocketful of money.

Just then, Jaafer the Barmecide, who had been absent on an important business for the Khalif, entered and seeing the poet in this plight, said to him, 'Hallo, Abou Nuwas!' 'At thy service, O our lord,' answered he. 'What offence hast thou committed,' asked Jaafer, 'to bring this punishment on thee?' 'None whatever,' answered the other, 'except that I made our lord the Khalif a present of the best of my verses, and he presented me, in return, with the best of his clothes.' When the Khalif heard this, he laughed, from a heart full of wrath, and [not only] pardoned Abou Nuwas, but gave him a myriad of money.

ABDALLAH BEN MAAMER WITH THE MAN OF BASSORA AND HIS SLAVE-GIRL.

A certain man of Bassora once bought a slave-girl and reared and educated her excellent well. Moreover, he loved her very dearly and spent all his substance in pleasuring and making merry with her, till he had nothing left and want was very sore upon him. So she said to him, 'O my master, sell me; for thou needest my price and it makes my heart ache to see the sorry plight to which want hath brought thee. It thou sell me and make use of my price, it will be better for thee than keeping me, and haply God the Most High will prosper thee and mend thy fortune.' He agreed to this, of the straitness of his case, and carried her to the bazaar, where the broker offered her for sale to the Governor of Bassora, by name Abballah ben Maamer et Teimi, and she pleased him. So he bought her, for five hundred dinars, of her master, who took the money and was about to go away, when the girl burst into tears and repeated the following verses:

May Allah prosper unto thee the money thou hast got! For me,
     nought's left me but lament and memory and woe.
I say to my afflicted soul, "Mourn little or mourn much; It
     skills not, for the loved one's gone and will return no
     mo."

When he heard this, he sighed heavily and replied thus:

Though there be no recourse for thee in this thy case and thou
     Find nought but death to solace thee, excuse me yet and
     know,
Evening and morn the thought of thee will company with me,
     Wherewith a heart I will console, that's all fulfilled of
     woe.
Peace be on thee! Henceforth for us no meeting shall there be
     Nor any union more, except Ben Maamer will it so.

When Abdallah heard these verses and saw their affliction, he exclaimed, 'By Allah, I will have no hand in separating you; for it is manifest to me that ye indeed love one another. So take the money and the damsel, O man, and may God bless thee in them! For parting is grievous to true lovers.' So they kissed his hand and going away, ceased not to dwell together, till death parted them; and glory be to Him whom death overtaketh not!

THE LOVERS OF THE BENOU UDHREH.

There was once, among the Benou Udhreh, a handsome and accomplished man, who was never a day out of love, and it chanced that he became enamoured of a beautiful woman of his own tribe and sent her many messages; but she ceased not to use him with cruelty and disdain, till, for stress of passion and longing and distraction, he fell exceeding sick and took to his bed and forswore sleep. His sickness grew on him and his anguish redoubled upon him, till he was all but dead; and his case became known and his passion noised abroad among the folk. His family and hers were instant with her to visit him, but she refused, till he was at the point of death, when, being told of this, she relented towards him and vouchsafed him a visit. When he saw her, his eyes ran over with tears and he repeated the following verses, from a broken heart:

If, by thy life, there pass thee by my funeral train, to wit, A
     bier borne on the necks of four, wilt grudge to follow it?
Wilt thou not follow in its track, that so thou mayst salute
     The sepulchre of one who's dead, committed to the pit?

When she heard this, she wept sore and said to him, 'By Allah, I thought not that passion had come to such a pass with thee, as to cast thee into the arms of death! Had I known this, I had been favourable to thee, and thou shouldst have enjoyed thy desire.' At this, his tears streamed down, like the cloud- showers, and he repeated the following verse:

She draweth near to me, when death hath come betwixt us two And proffereth union, when it no profit can me do.

Then he gave one sigh and died, and she fell on him, kissing him and weeping, till she swooned away. When she came to herself she charged her people bury her in his grave and recited the following verses, with streaming eyes:

We lived upon the earth a life of comfort and delight: Country
     and tribe and dwelling-place alike of us were proud;
But Fortune and the shifts of time did rend our loves apart,
     And now the grave uniteth us within a single shroud.

Then she fell again to weeping and ceased not from tears and lament, till she swooned away. She lay three days, senseless; then died and was buried in his grave. This is one of the strange chances of love.

THE VIZIER OF YEMEN AND HIS YOUNG BROTHER

Bedreddin, Vizier of Yemen, had a young brother of singular beauty and kept strait watch over him. So he applied himself to seek a governor for him and coming upon an elder of dignified and reverend aspect, chaste and pious, lodged him in a house next his own, whence he used to come daily to the Vizier's dwelling, to teach the latter's brother. After awhile, the old man's heart was taken with love for his pupil and longing grew upon him and his entrails were troubled, till, one day, he made moan of his case to the boy, who said, 'What can I do, seeing that I may not leave my brother day or night? Thou seest how careful he is over me.' Quoth the governor, 'My lodging adjoins thine; so, when thy brother sleeps, do thou rise and entering the wardrobe, feign thyself asleep. Then come to the parapet of the roof and I will receive thee on the other side of the wall; so shalt thou sit with me awhile and return without thy brother's knowledge.' 'I hear and obey,' answered the boy. So, when awhile of the night was past, he entered the closet and waited till his brother lay down on his bed and was drowned in sleep, when he rose and going to the parapet of the roof, found the governor awaiting him, who gave him his hand and carried him to the sitting-chamber, where he had made ready various dainties for his entertainment, and they sat down to carouse.

Now it was the night of the full moon, and as they sat, passing the wine-cup to one another, her rays shone upon them, and the governor fell to singing. But, whilst they were thus in mirth and joyance and good cheer, such as confounds the wit and the sight and defies description, the Vizier awoke and missing his brother, arose in affright and found the door open. So he went up to the roof and hearing a noise of talk, peeped over the parapet and saw a light shining in the governor's lodging. He looked in and espied his brother and his governor sitting carousing: but the latter became aware of him and sang the following verses, cup in hand, to a lively measure:

He gave me wine to drink, of his mouth's nectar rare, Toasting
     with down of cheeks and what adjoineth there;
Then passed with me the night, embracing, cheek to cheek, A
     loveling midst mankind unpeered and past compare.
The full moon gazed on us all night; pray then to her, So to
     his brother she to tell of us forbear.

Now the Vizier was a merry man; so, when he heard this, he said, 'By Allah, I will not betray you!' And he went away and left them to their diversion.

THE LOVES OF THE BOY AND GIRL AT SCHOOL.

A boy and a girl once learnt together in a school, and the boy fell passionately in love with the girl. So, one day, when the other boys were heedless, he took her tablet[FN#93] and wrote on it the following verses:

Tell me, what sayst thou unto him, whom sickness for thy love
     Hath worn and wasted, till he's grown distraught and
     stupefied?
Him who of passion maketh moan; for love and longing pain, That
     which is in his heart, indeed, no longer can he hide.

When the girl took her tablet, she read the verses and wept for pity of him; then wrote thereunder these others:

An if we see one languishing for very love of us, Our favours,
     surely, unto him shall nowise be denied.
Yea, and of us he shall obtain that which he doth desire Of
     love-delight, whate'er to us in consequence betide.

Now it chanced that the teacher came in on them And taking the tablet, unnoticed, read what was written thereon. So he was moved to pity of their case and wrote on the tablet the following verses, in reply to those of the girl:

Favour thy lover, for he's grown distracted for desire, And
     reck thou not of punishment nor fear lest any chide.
As for the master, have no dread of his authority, For he with
     passion an its pains aforetime hath been tried.

Presently, the girl's master entered the school and finding the tablet, read the above verses and wrote under them the following:

May Allah never separate your loves, whilst time abide, And may
     your slanderer be put to shame and mortified!
But, for the master of the school, by Allah, all my life, A
     busier go-between than he I never yet espied.

Then he sent for the Cadi and the witnesses and married them on the spot. Moreover, he made them a marriage-feast and entreated them with exceeding munificence; and they abode together in joy and contentment, till there came to them the Destroyer of Delights and the Sunderer of Companies.

EL MUTELEMMIS AND HIS WIFE UMEIMEH.

It is related that El Mutelemmis[FN#94] once fled from En Numan ben Mundhir[FN#95] and was absent so long that the folk deemed him dead. Now he had a handsome wife, Umeimeh by name, and her family pressed her to marry again; but she refused, for that she loved her husband El Mutelemmis very dearly. However, they were instant with her, because of the multitude of her suitors, and importuned her till she at last reluctantly consented and they married her to a man of her own tribe.

On the night of the wedding, El Mutelemmis came back and hearing in the camp a noise of pipes and tabrets and seeing signs of festival, asked some of the children what was toward, to which they replied, 'They have married Umeimeh, widow of El Mutelemmis, to such an one, and he goes in to her this night.' When he heard this, he made shift to enter the house with the women and saw there the bride seated on her throne. By and by, the bridegroom came up to her, whereupon she sighed heavily and weeping, recited the following verses:

Ah would, (but many are the shifts of good and evil fate), I
     knew in what far land thou art, O Mutelemmis mine!

Now El Mutelemmis was a renowned poet: so he answered her with the following verse:

Right near at hand, Umeimeh! Know, whene'er the caravan Halted,
     I never ceased for thee with longing heart to pine.

When the bridegroom heard this, he guessed how the case stood and went forth from among them in haste, repeating the following verse:

I was in luck, but now I'm fall'n into the contrary. A hospitable house and room your reknit loves enshrine!

So El Mutelemmis took his wife again and abode with her in all delight and solace of life, till death parted them. And glory be to Him at whose command the earth and the heavens shall arise!

THE KHALIF HAROUN ER RESHID AND THE PRINCESS ZUBEIDEH IN THE BATH.

The Khalif Haroun er Reshid loved the Princess Zubeideh with an exceeding love and laid out for her a pleasaunce, in which he made a great pool and led thither water from all sides. Moreover, he set thereabout a screen of trees, which so grew and interlaced over the pool, that one could go in and wash, without being seen of any, for the thickness of the leafage. It chanced, one day, that Zubeideh entered the garden and coming to the basin, gazed upon its goodliness, and the limpidity of the water and the interlacing of the trees over it pleased her. Now it was a day of exceeding heat; so she put off her clothes and entering the pool, which was not deep enough to cover her, fell to pouring the water over herself from an ewer of silver.

The Khalif heard she was in the pool; so he left his palace and came down to spy upon her, through the screen of the leaves. He stood behind the trees and saw her naked, with all her secret charms displayed. Presently, she became aware of him and turning, saw him behind the trees and was ashamed that he should see her naked. So she laid her hands on her kaze, but it escaped from between them, by reason of its much greatness and plumpness; and the Khalif turned and went away, wondering and reciting the following verse:

I looked on her whom I adore And longing rose in me full sore.

But he knew not what to say next; so he sent for Abou Nuwas and bade him make a piece of verse commencing with the above line. 'I hear and obey,' replied the poet and in a twinkling extemporized the following lines:

I looked on her whom I adore, And longing rose in me full sore
For a gazelle that ravished me, By double lote-trees shaded
     o'er.
The water on her dainty part With silver ewer did she pour
And would have hidden it, seeing me, But all too small her
     hands therefor.
Would I were on it, wel-a-way, An hour or liefer two or more!

The Khalif smiled and made him a handsome present, and he went away rejoicing.

HAROUN ER RESHID AND THE THREE POETS.

The Khalif Haroun er Reshid was exceeding restless one night; so he rose and walked about his palace, till he happened on a damsel overcome with wine. Now he was greatly enamoured of this damsel; so he toyed with her and pulled her to him, whereupon her girdle fell down and her trousers were unloosed and he besought her of amorous dalliance. But she said to him, 'O Commander of the Faithful, wait till to-morrow night, for I am unprepared for thee, knowing not of thy coming.' So he left her and went away.

On the morrow, he sent a page to her to announce his visit to her apartment; but she sent back to him, saying, 'The day obliterates the promise of the night.' So he said to his minions, 'Make me somewhat of verse, introducing these words, "The day obliterates the promise of the night."' 'We hear and obey,' answered they; and Er Recashi[FN#96] came forward and recited the following:

By Allah, an thou feltst my longing and my pain, Repose had
     turned away from thee and taken flight.
A maid hath made me love-distraught, nor visiting Nor being
     visited, a sad and love-lorn wight.
She promised me her grace, then turned away and said, "The day
     obliterates the promise of the night."

Then Abou Musab came forward and recited these verses:

When wilt thou put away this dotage from thy spright? Thy heart
     is dazed and rest to thee forbidden quite.
Is't not enough for thee to have a weeping eye And vitals still
     on fire for memory and despite?
For self-conceit, indeed, he laugheth, when he saith, "The day
     obliterates the promise of the night."

Last came Abou Nuwas and recited the following:

Love was prolonged and far was union out of sight, Nor skilled
     it aught to feign aversion and despite.
One day, she came into the palace, drunk with wine, But even
     her drunkenness with pudour was bedight.
Her upper garments dropped and left her shoulders bare And
     loosened trousers showed the dwelling of delight;
Yea, and the breeze shook hips, full heavy, and a shape, As
     'twere a branch, whereon pomegranates twain unite.
"Give me a tryst," quoth I; and she replied, "The place Of
     visiting will be to-morrow clean and right."
Next day, I came and said, "Thy promise;" but quoth she, "The
     day obliterates the promise of the night."

The Khalif bestowed a myriad each on Er Recashi and Abou Musab, but bade strike off Abou Nuwas's head, saying, 'Thou west with us yesternight in the palace.' 'By Allah,' answered the poet, 'I slept not but in my own house! I was directed to what I said by thine own words as to the subject of the poem; and indeed quoth God the Most High (and He is the truest of all speakers), "As for poets (devils ensue them!) dost thou not see how they run wild in each valley and say that they do not?"'[FN#97] So the Khalif forgave him and bestowed on him two myriads of gold.

MUSAB BEN EZ ZUBEIR AND AAISHEH DAUGHTER OF TELHEH.

It is told of Musab ben ez Zubeir[FN#98] that he met Izzeh, who was one of the shrewdest of women, in Medina and said to her, 'I have a mind to marry Aaisheh,[FN#99] daughter of Telheh, and I would have thee go to her and spy out for me how she is made.' So she went and returning to Musab, said, 'I have seen her, and her face is more beautiful than health; she hath large and well-opened eyes, an aquiline nose and smooth, oval cheeks and a mouth like a cleft pomegranate, a neck like an ewer of silver and a bosom with two breasts like twin pomegranates, a slim waist and a slender belly, with a navel therein as it were a casket of ivory, and backside like a hummock of sand. Moreover, she hath plump thighs and legs like columns of alabaster; but I saw her feet to be large, and thou wilt fall short with her in time of amorous dalliance.' Upon this report, he married her and Izzeh invited Aaisheh and the women of the tribe of Kureish to her house, when Aaisheh sang the following, with Musab standing by:

The mouths of girls, with their odoriferous, Sweet breath and
     their witching smiles, are sweet to buss;
Yet ne'er have I tasted them, but in thought of him; And by
     thought, indeed, the Ruler rules over us.

The night of his going in to her, he departed not from her, till after seven courses; and on the morrow, a freed-woman of his met him and said to him, 'May I be thy ransom! Thou art perfect, even in this.'

Quoth a certain woman, 'I was with Aaisheh, when her husband came in to her, and she lusted to him; so he fell upon her and she puffed and snorted and made use of all manner of rare motions and strange inventions, and I the while within hearing. So when he came out from her, I said to her, "How canst thou, with thy rank and nobility and condition, do thus, and I in thy house?" Quoth she, "A woman should bring her husband all of which she is mistress, by way of excitations and rare motions. What mislikest thou of this?" And I answered, "I would have this anights." "Thus is it by day," rejoined she, "and by night I do more than this; for, when he sees me, desire stirs in him and he falls on heat; so he puts out his hand to me and I obey him, and it is as thou seest."'

ABOUL ASWED AND HIS SQUINTING SLAVE-GIRL.

Aboul Aswed bought a native-born slave-girl, who was squint- eyed, and she pleased him; but his people decried her to him; whereat he wondered and spreading out his hands, recited the following verses:

They run her down to me, and yet no fault in her find I, Except
     perhaps it be a speck she hath in either eye.
To compensate this fault, if fault it be, o' the upper parts
     She's slim and heavy of the parts beneath the waist that
     lie.

HAROUN ER RESHID AND THE TWO SLAVE-GIRLS.

The Khalif Haroun er Reshid lay one night between two slave-girls, one from Medina and the other from Cufa, and the latter rubbed his hands, whilst the former rubbed his feet and made his yard to stand up. Quoth the Cufan girl, 'I see thou wouldst keep the whole of the stock-in-trade to thyself; give me my share of it.' And the other answered, 'I have been told by Malik, on the authority of Hisham ibn Orweh,[FN#100] who had it of his [grand]father,[FN#101] that the Prophet said, "Whoso bringeth the dead to life, it is his."' But the Cufan took her unawares and pushing her away, took it all in her own hand and said, 'El Aamesh[FN#102] tells us, on the authority of Kheithemeh,[FN#103] who had it of Abdallah ben Mesoud,[FN#104] that the Prophet said, "Game belongeth to him who taketh it, not to him who raiseth it."'

THE KHALIF HAROUN ER RESHID AND THE THREE SLAVE-GIRLS.

The Khalif Haroun er Reshid lay once with three slave-girls, a Meccan, a Medinan and an Irakite. The Medina girl put her hand to his yard and handled it, whereupon it rose and the Meccan sprang up and drew it to herself. Quoth the other, 'What is this unjust aggression? I have heard of Malik,[FN#105] on the authority of Ez Zuhri,[FN#106] who had it of Abdallah ibn Salim,[FN#107] on the report of Said ben Zeid,[FN#108] that the Apostle (whom God bless and preserve) said, "Whoso revivifies a dead land, it is his."' And the Meccan answered, 'Sufyan[FN#109] tells us, on the authority of Abou Zenad,[FN#110] who had it of El Aarej,[FN#111] on the report of Abou Hureireh,[FN#112] that the Apostle of God said, "The game is his who catches it, not his who starts it."' But the Irak girl pushed them both away and taking it to herself, said, 'This is mine, till your contention be decided.'

THE MILLER AND HIS WIFE.

There was a miller, who had an ass to turn his mill; and he was married to a wicked wife, whom he loved; but she hated him and loved a neighbour of hers, who liked her not and held aloof from her. One night, the miller saw, in his sleep, one who said to him, 'Dig in such a spot of the ass's circuit in the mill, and thou shalt find a treasure.' When he awoke, he told his wife the dream and charged her keep it secret; but she told her neighbour, thinking to win his favour, and he appointed with her to come to her by night. So he came and they dug in the mill and found the treasure and took it forth. Then said he to her, 'How shall we do with this?' 'We will share it equally between us,' answered she; 'and do thou leave thy wife and I will cast about to rid me of my husband. Then shalt thou marry me, and when we are united, we will add the two halves of the treasure, one to the other, and it will be [all] in our hands.' Quoth he, 'I fear lest Satan seduce thee and thou take some man other than myself; for gold in the house is like the sun in the world. Meseems, therefore, it were better that the money be all in my hands, so thou mayst study to win free of thy husband and come to me.' 'I fear the like of thee,' rejoined she, 'and I will not yield up my part to thee; for it was I directed thee to it.' When he heard this, covetise prompted him to kill her; so he killed her and threw her body into the empty hole; but the day overtook him and hindered him from covering it up; so he took the treasure and went away.

Presently, the miller awoke and missing his wife, went into the mill, where he fastened the ass to the beam and shouted to it. It went on a little, then stopped; whereupon he beat it grievously; but the more he beat it, the more it drew back; for it was affrighted at the dead woman and could not go on. So he took out a knife and goaded it again and again, but still it would not budge. Then he was wroth with it, knowing not the cause of its obstinacy, and drove the knife into its flanks, and it fell down dead. When the sun rose, he saw his wife lying dead, in the place of the treasure, and great was his rage and sore his chagrin for the loss of the treasure and the death of his wife and his ass. All this came of his letting his wife into his secret and not keeping it to himself.

THE SIMPLETON AND THE SHARPER.

A certain simple fellow was once going along, haling his ass after him by the halter, when a couple of sharpers saw him and one said to his fellow, 'I will take that ass from yonder man.' 'How wilt thou do that?' asked the other. 'Follow me and I will show thee,' replied the first. So he went up to the ass and loosing it from the halter, gave the beast to his fellow; then clapped the halter on his own head and followed the simpleton, till he knew that the other had got clean off with the ass, when he stood still. The man pulled at the halter, but the thief stirred not; so he turned and seeing the halter on a man's neck, said to him, 'Who art thou?' Quoth the sharper, 'I am thine ass and my story is a strange one. Know that I have a pious old mother and came in to her one day, drunk; and she said to me, "O my son, repent to God the Most High of these thy transgressions." But I took the cudgel and beat her, whereupon she cursed me and God the Most High changed me into an ass and caused me fall into thy hands, where I have remained till now. However, to-day, my mother called me to mind and her heart relented towards me; so she prayed for me, and God restored me to my former shape of a man.' 'There is no power and no virtue but in God the Most High, the Supreme!' cried the simpleton. 'O my brother, I conjure thee by Allah, acquit me of what I have done with thee, in the way of riding and so forth.'

Then he let the sharper go and returned home, drunken with chagrin and concern. His wife asked him, 'What ails thee and where is the ass?' And he answered, 'Thou knowest not what was this ass; but I will tell thee.' So he told her the story, and she exclaimed, 'Woe worth us for God the Most High! How could we have used a man as a beast of burden, all this while?' And she gave alms and asked pardon of God. Then the man abode awhile at home, idle, till she said to him, 'How long wilt thou sit at home, idle? Go to the market and buy us an ass and do thy business with it.' Accordingly, he went to the market and stopping by the ass-stand, saw his own ass for sale. So he went up to it and clapping his mouth to its ear, said to it, 'Out on thee, thou good-for-nought! Doubtless thou hast been getting drunk again and beating thy mother! But, by Allah, I will never buy thee more!' And he left it and went away.

THE IMAM ABOU YOUSUF WITH HAROUN ER RESHID AND ZUBEIDEH.

The Khalif Haroun er Reshid went up one noon-tide to his couch, to lie down, and mounting, found thereon fresh semen; whereat he was startled and sore perturbed and troubled. So he called the princess Zubeideh and said to her, 'What is that spilt on the bed?' She looked at it and replied, 'O Commander of the Faithful, it is semen.' 'Tell me truly what this means,' said he; 'or I will lay violent hands on thee forthright.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered she, 'indeed, I know not how it came there and I am guiltless of that whereof thou suspectest me.' So he sent for the Imam Abou Yousuf and told him the case. The Imam raised his eyes to the roof and seeing a crack therein, said to the Khalif, 'O Commander of the Faithful, the bat hath semen like that of a man, and this is bats' semen.' Then he called for a lance and thrust it into the crack, whereupon down fell the bat. In this manner the Khalif's suspicions were dispelled and Zubeideh's innocence was made manifest; whereat she gave vent to her joy and promised Abou Yousuf a liberal reward.

Now there were with her magnificent fruits, out of their season, and she knew of others in the garden; so she said to Abou Yousuf, 'O Imam of the Faith, which wouldst thou rather of the two kinds of fruits, those that are here or those that are not here?' 'Our code forbids us to pronounce judgment on the absent,' answered he. 'When they are present, we will give judgment.' So she caused bring the two kinds of fruits before him, and he ate of both. Quoth she, 'What is the difference between them?' And he answered, 'As often as I think to praise one kind, the other puts in its claim.' The Khalif laughed at his answer and made him a present. Zubeideh also gave him what she had promised him, and he went away, rejoicing. See, then, the blessed qualities of this Imam and how at his hands were made manifest the truth and the innocence of the lady Zubeideh.

THE KHALIF EL HAKIM AND THE MERCHANT.

The Khalif El Hakim bi Amrillah was riding out in state one day, when he came to a garden, in which he saw a man, surrounded by slaves and servants. He asked him for a draught of water, and the man gave him to drink, saying, 'Peradventure, the Commander of the Faithful will honour me by alighting in this my garden.' So the Khalif dismounted and entered the garden with his suite; whereupon the man brought out to them a hundred carpets and a hundred leather mats and a hundred cushions and set before them a hundred dishes of fruits, a hundred saucers of sweetmeats and a hundred bowls full of sherbets of sugar; whereat the Khalif marvelled and said to his host, 'O man, this thy case is a strange one. Didst thou know of our coming and make this preparation for us?' 'No, by Allah, O Commander of the Faithful,' answered the other, 'I knew not of thy coming and am but a merchant of the rest of thy subjects. But I have a hundred concubines; so, when the Commander of the Faithful honoured me by alighting with me, I sent to each of them, bidding her send me the morning-meal here. So they sent me each of her furniture and of the excess of her meat and drink: and every day each sends me a dish of meat and another of marinades, also a plate of fruits and a saucer of sweetmeats and a bowl of sherbet. This is my every- day noon-meal, nor have I added aught thereto for thee.'

The Khalif prostrated himself in thanksgiving to God the Most High and said, 'Praised be God, who hath been so bountiful to one of our subjects, that he entertaineth the Khalif and his suite, without making ready for them, but of the surplus of his day's victual!' Then he sent for all the dirhems in the treasury, that had been struck that year,—and they were in number three thousand and seven hundred thousand;—nor did he mount, till the money came, when he gave it to the merchant, saying, 'Use this for the maintenance of thy state; and thy desert is more than this.' Then he mounted and rode away.

KING KISRA ANOUSHIRWAN AND THE VILLAGE DAMSEL.

The just King, Kisra Anoushirwan,[FN#113] was hunting one day and became separated from his suite, in pursuit of an antelope. Presently, he caught sight of a hamlet, near at hand, and being sore athirst, made for the door of a house, that stood by the wayside, and asked for a draught of water. A damsel came out and looked at him; then, going back into the house, pressed the juice from a sugar-cane into a tankard and mixed it with water; after which she strewed on the top somewhat of perfume, as it were dust, and carried it to the King. He took it and seeing in it what resembled dust, drank it, little by little, till he came to the end. Then said he to her, 'O damsel, the drink is good and sweet, but for this dust in it, that troubles it.' 'O guest,' answered she, 'I put that in, of intent.' 'And why didst thou thus?' asked he; and she replied, 'I saw that thou wast exceeding thirsty and feared that thou wouldst swallow the whole at one draught and that this would do thee a mischief; and so hadst thou done, but for this dust that troubled the drink.' The King wondered at her wit and good sense and said to her, 'How many sugar-canes didst thou press for this draught?' 'One,' answered she; whereat the King marvelled and calling for the roll of the taxes of the village, saw that its assessment was but little and bethought him to increase it, on his return to his palace, saying in himself, 'Why is a village so lightly taxed, where they get this much juice out of one sugar-cane?'

Then he left the village and pursued his chase. As he came back at the end of the day, he passed alone by the same door and called again for drink; whereupon the same damsel came out and knowing him, went in to fetch him drink. It was some time before she returned and the King wondered at this and said to her, 'Why hast thou tarried?' Quoth she, 'Because one sugar- cane yielded not enough for thy need. So I pressed three; but they yielded not so much as did one aforetime.' 'What is the cause of that?' asked the King; and she answered, 'The cause of it is that the King's mind is changed.' Quoth he, 'How knewst thou that?' 'We hear from the wise,' replied she, 'that, when the King's mind is changed against a folk, their prosperity ceaseth and their good waxeth less.' Anoushirwan laughed and put away from his mind that which he had purposed against the people of the village. Moreover, he took the damsel to wife then and there, being pleased with her much wit and acuteness and the excellence of her speech.

THE WATER-CARRIER AND THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

There was once, in the city of Bokhara, a water-carrier, who used to carry water to the house of a goldsmith and had done thus thirty years. Now the goldsmith had a wife of exceeding beauty and elegance and withal renowned for modesty, chastity and piety. One day, the water-carrier came, as of wont, and poured the water into the cisterns. Now the woman was standing in the midst of the court; so he went up to her and taking her hand, stroked it and pressed it, then went away and left her. When her husband came home from the bazaar, she said to him, 'I would have thee tell me what thou hast done in the bazaar, today, to anger God the Most High.' Quoth he, 'I have done nothing.' 'Nay,' rejoined she, 'but, by Allah, thou hast indeed done something to anger God; and except thou tell me the truth, I will not abide in thy house, and thou shalt not see me, nor will I see thee.' 'I will tell thee the truth,' answered he. 'As I was sitting in my shop this day, a woman came up to me and bade me make her a bracelet. Then she went away and I wrought her a bracelet of gold and laid it aside. Presently, she returned and I brought her out the bracelet. She put out her hand and I clasped the bracelet on her wrist; and I wondered at the whiteness of her hand and the beauty of her wrist and recalled what the poet says:

Bracelets, upon her wrists, of glittering virgin gold She hath,
     like fire ablaze on running water cold.
It is as if the wrists and bracelets thereabout Were water girt
     with fire, right wondrous to behold.

So I took her hand and pressed it and squeezed it.' 'God is Most Great!' exclaimed the woman. 'Why didst thou this ill thing? Know that the water-carrier, who has come to our house these thirty years, nor sawst thou ever any treason in him, took my hand to day and pressed and squeezed it.' Quoth her husband, 'O woman, let us crave pardon of God! Verily, I repent of what I did, and do thou ask forgiveness of God for me.' 'God pardon me and thee,' said she, 'and vouchsafe to make good the issue of our affair!'

Next day, the water-carrier came in to the jeweller's wife and throwing himself at her feet, grovelled in the dust and besought pardon of her, saying, 'O my lady, acquit me of that which Satan deluded me to do; for it was he that seduced me and led me astray.' 'Go thy ways,' answered she; 'the fault was not in thee, but in my husband, for that he did what he did in his shop, and God hath retaliated upon him in this world.' And it is related that the goldsmith, when his wife told him how the water-carrier had used her, said, 'Tit for tat! If I had done more, the water-carrier had done more.' And this became a current byword among the folk.

So it behoveth a wife to be both outward and inward with her husband, contenting herself with little from him, if he cannot give her much, and taking pattern by Aaisheh[FN#114] the Truthful and Fatimeh[FN#115] the Clean Maid, (may God the Most High accept of them), that she may be of the company of the righteous.[FN#116]

KHUSRAU AND SHIRIN WITH THE FISHERMAN.

King Khusrau[FN#117] of Persia loved fish; and one day, as he sat in his saloon, he and Shirin[FN#118] his wife, there came a fisherman, with a great fish, and presented it to the King, who was pleased and ordered the man four thousand dirhems. When he was gone, Shirin said to the King, 'Thou hast done ill.' 'Wherefore?' asked he; and she answered, 'Because if, after this, thou give one of thy courtiers a like sum, he will disdain it and say, "He hath but given me the like of what he gave the fisherman." And if thou give him less, he will say, "He makes light of me and gives me less than he gave the fisherman."' 'Thou art right,' rejoined Khusrau; 'but the thing is done and it ill becomes a king to go back on his gift.' Quoth Shirin, 'An thou wilt, I will contrive thee a means to get it back from him.' 'How so?' asked he; and she said, 'Call back the fisherman and ask him if the fish be male or female. If he say, "Male," say thou, "We want a female," and if he say, "Female," say, "We want a male."'

So he sent for the fisherman, who was a man of wit and discernment, and said to him, 'Is this fish male or female?' The fisherman kissed the ground and answered, 'It is of the neuter gender, neither male nor female.' The King laughed and ordered him other four thousand dirhems. So the fisherman went to the treasurer and taking his eight thousand dirhems, put them in a bag he had with him. Then, throwing the bag over his shoulder, he was going away, when he dropped a dirhem; so he laid the bag off his back and stooped down to pick it up. Now the King and Shirin were looking on, and the latter said, 'O King, didst thou note the meanness and greediness of yon man, in that he must needs stoop down, to pick up the one dirhem, and could not bring himself to leave it for one of the King's servants?' When the King heard this, he was wroth with the fisherman and said, 'Thou art right, O Shirin!' So he called the man back and said to him, 'Thou low-minded fellow! Thou art no man! How couldst thou put the bag off thy shoulder and stoop to pick up the one dirhem and grudge to leave it where it fell?' The fisherman kissed the earth before him and answered, 'May God prolong the King's life! Indeed, I did not pick up the dirhem, because of its value in my eyes; but because on one of its faces is the likeness of the King and on the other his name; and I feared lest any should unwittingly set his foot upon it, thus dishonouring the name and presentment of the King, and I be blamed for the offence.' The King wondered at his wit and shrewdness and ordered him yet other four thousand dirhems. Moreover, he let cry abroad in his kingdom, saying, 'It behoveth none to order himself by women's counsel; for whoso followeth their advice, loseth, with his one dirhem, other two.'

YEHYA BEN KHALID THE BARMECIDE AND THE POOR MAN.

Yehya ben Khalid the Barmecide was returning home, one day, from the Khalif's palace, when he saw a man at the gate of his house, who rose at his approach and saluted him, saying, 'O Yehya, I am in need of that which is in thy hand, and I make God my intermediary with thee.' So Yehya caused set apart a place for him in his house and bade his treasurer carry him a thousand dirhems every day and that his food should be of the choicest of his own meat. The man abode thus a whole month, at the end of which time, having received in all thirty thousand dirhems, he departed by stealth, fearing lest Yehya should take the money from him, because of the greatness of the sum; and when they told Yehya of this, he said, 'By Allah, though he had tarried with me to the end of his days, yet had I not scanted him of my largesse nor cut off from him the bounties of my hospitality!' For, indeed, the excellences of the Barmecides were past count nor can their virtues be told; especially those of Yehya teen Khalid, for he abounded in noble qualities, even as saith the poet of him:

I asked munificence, "Art free?" It answered, "No, perdie!
     Yehya ben Khalid's slave am I; my lord and master he."
"A boughten slave?" asked I; but, "Nay, so heaven forfend!"
     quoth it. "From ancestor to ancestor he did inherit me."

MOHAMMED EL AMIN AND JAAFER BEN EL HADI.

Jaafer ben Mousa el Hadi[FN#119] once had a slave-girl, a lute player, called El Bedr el Kebir, than whom there was not in her time a fairer of face nor a better-shaped nor a more elegant of manners nor a more accomplished in singing and smiting the strings; she was indeed perfect in beauty and charm. Mohammed el Amin,[FN#120] son of Zubeideh, heard of her and was instant with Jaafer to sell her to him; but he replied, 'Thou knowest it beseems not one of my rank to sell slave-girls nor traffic in concubines; but, were it not that she was reared in my house, I would send her to thee, as a gift, nor grudge her to thee.'

Some days after this, El Amin went to Jaafer's house, to make merry; and the latter set before him that which it behoves to set before friends and bade El Bedr sing to him and gladden him. So she tuned the lute and sang right ravishingly, whilst El Amin fell to drinking and making merry and bade the cupbearers ply Jaafer with wine, till he became drunken, when he took the damsel and carried her to his own house, but laid not a finger on her. On the morrow, he sent to invite Jaafer; and when he came, he set wine before him and bade the girl sing to him, from behind the curtain. Jaafer knew her voice and was angered at this, but, of the nobleness of his nature and the greatness of his mind, he dissembled his vexation and let no change appear in his demeanour.

When the carousel was at an end, El Amin commanded one of his servants to fill the boat, in which Jaafer had come, with dirhems and dinars and all manner jewels and jacinths and rich clothes and other treasures of price. So he laid therein a thousand myriads of money and a thousand fine pearls, each worth twenty thousand dirhems; nor did he give over loading the barge with all manner of precious things, till the boatmen cried out for quarter, saying, 'The boat cannot hold any more;' whereupon he bade them carry all this to Jaafer's palace. Such are the fashions of the magnanimous, may God have mercy on them!

THE SONS OF YEHYA BEN KHALID AND SAID BEN SALIM EL BAHILI.

(Quoth Said ben Salim el Bahili[FN#121]), I was once, in the days of Haroun er Reshid, in very narrow case and greatly oppressed with debts, that had accumulated upon me and that I had no means of discharging. My doors were blocked up with creditors and I was without cease importuned for payment by claimants, who dunned me in crowds, till I was at my wits' end what to do. At last, being sore perplexed and troubled, I betook myself to Abdallah ben Malik el Khuzai[FN#122] and besought him to aid me with his judgment and of his good counsel direct me to the door of relief; and he said, "None can quit thee of this thy strait but the Barmecides." Quoth I, "Who can brook their pride and put up with their arrogance?" And he answered, "Thou must put up with it, for the sake of amending thy case." So I left him and went straight to El Fezl and Jaafer, sons of Yehya ben Khalid, to whom I related my case. "God give thee His aid," answered they, "and enable thee by His bounties to dispense with the aid of His creatures and vouchsafe thee abundant good and bestow on thee what shall suffice thee, without the need of any but Himself; for He can what He will and is gracious and provident with His servants."

I went out from them and returned to Abdallah, disappointed and perplexed and heavy at heart, and told him what they had said. Quoth he, "Thou wouldst do well to abide with us this day, that we may see what God the Most High will decree." So I sat with him awhile, and lo, up came my servant, who said to me, "O my lord, there are at our door many laden mules, and with them a man, who says he is the agent of Fezl and Jaafer ben Yehya." Quoth Abdallah, "I trust that relief is come to thee: go and see what is to do." So I left him and running to my house, found at the door a man, who gave me a letter, wherein was written the following: "Know that, after thou hadst been with us and acquainted us with thy case, we betook ourselves to the Khalif and informed him that the case had reduced thee to the humiliation of begging; whereupon he ordered thee a million dirhems from the Treasury. We represented to him that thou wouldst spend this money in paying thy creditors and said, 'Whence shall he provide for his subsistence?' So he ordered thee other three hundred thousand, and we have sent thee, of our own money, a million dirhems each, so that thou hast now three millions and three hundred thousand dirhems, wherewithal to order thine affair and amend thine estate."

See, then, the munificence of these generous men; may God the
Most High have mercy on them!

THE WOMAN'S TRICK AGAINST HER HUSBAND.

A man brought his wife a fish one Friday and bidding her cook it against the end of the congregational prayers, went out to his business. Meanwhile, there came in her friend,[FN#123] who bade her to a wedding at his house; so she agreed and laying the fish in a jar of water, went off with him and was absent a whole week, whilst her husband sought her from house to house and enquired after her; but none could give him any news of her.

On the following Friday, she came home, [and he fell to chiding and reproaching her;] but she brought out to him the fish alive from the jar and assembled the folk against him. He told them his case; but they credited him not and said, 'It cannot be that the fish should have remained alive all this while.' So they caused adjudge him mad and imprisoned him and laughed at him, whereupon he wept sore and recited the following verses:

A hag, that holds high rank, indeed, in lewdness! In her face
     Are witnesses that testify to filth and wantonness.
When she's unclean, she bawds; and when she's clean, she plays
     the whore: So, all her time, she's either bawd or else
     adulteress.

THE DEVOUT WOMAN AND THE TWO WICKED ELDERS.[FN#124]

There was once, of old time, a virtuous woman among the children of Israel, who was pious and devout and used every day to go out to the place of prayer, first entering a garden, which adjoined thereto, and there making the ablution. Now there were in this garden two old men, its keepers, who fell in love with her and sought her favours; but she refused, whereupon said they, 'Except thou yield thyself to us, we will bear witness against thee of fornication.' Quoth she, 'God will preserve me from your wickedness!' Then they opened the garden-gate and cried out, and the folk came to them from all sides, saying, 'What ails you?' Quoth they, 'We found this damsel in company with a youth, who was doing lewdness with her; but he escaped from our hands.'

Now it was the use of the people of those days to expose an adulteress to public ignominy for three days and after stone her. So they pilloried her three days, whilst the two old men came up to her daily and laying their hands on her head, said, 'Praised be God who hath sent down His vengeance on thee!'

On the fourth day, they carried her away, to stone her; but a lad of twelve years old, by name Daniel, followed them to the place of execution and said to them, 'Hasten not to stone her, till I judge between them.' So they set him a chair and he sat down and caused bring the old men before him separately. (Now he was the first that separated witnesses.) Then said he to the first, 'What sawest thou?' So he repeated to him his story, and Daniel said, 'In what part of the garden did this befall?' 'On the eastern side,' replied the elder, 'under a pear-tree.' Then he called the other old man and asked him the same question; and he replied, 'On the western side of the garden, under an apple-tree.' Meanwhile the damsel stood by, with her hands and eyes uplift to heaven, imploring God for deliverance. Then God the Most High sent down His vengeful thunder upon the two old men and consumed them and made manifest the innocence of the damsel.

This was the first of the miracles of the Prophet Daniel, on whom and on the Prophet be blessing and peace!

JAAFER THE BARMECIDE AND THE OLD BEDOUIN.

The Khalif Haroun er Reshid went out one day, with Abou Yousuf the minion and Jaafer the Barmecide and Abou Nuwas, into the desert, where they fell in with an old man, leant upon his ass. The Khalif bade Jaafer ask him whence he came; so he said to him, 'Whence comest thou?' 'From Bassora,' answered the Bedouin. 'And whither goest thou?' asked Jaafer. 'To Baghdad,' said the other. 'And what wilt thou do there?' asked Jaafer. 'I go to seek medicine for my eye,' replied the old man. Quoth the Khalif, 'O Jaafer, make us sport with him.' 'If I jest with him,' answered Jaafer, 'I shall hear what I shall not like.' But Er Reshid rejoined, 'I charge thee, on my authority, jest with him.'

So Jaafer said to the Bedouin, 'If I prescribe thee a remedy that shall profit thee, what wilt thou give me in return?' Quoth the other, 'God the Most High will requite thee for me with better than I can give thee.' 'Harkye, then,' said Jaafer, 'and I will give thee a prescription, which I have given to none but thee.' 'What is that?' asked the Bedouin; and Jaafer answered, 'Take three ounces of wind-wafts and the like of sunbeams and moonshine and lamp-light; mix them together and let them lie in the wind three months. Then bray them three months in a mortar without a bottom and laying them in a cleft platter, set it in the wind other three months; after which use three drachms every night in thy sleep, and (God willing) thou shalt be cured.'

When the Bedouin heard this, he stretched himself out on the ass's back and letting fly a terrible great crack of wind, said to Jaafer, 'Take this, in payment of thy prescription. When I have followed it, if God grant me recovery, I will give thee a slave-girl, who shall serve thee in thy lifetime a service, wherewith God shall cut short thy term; and when thou diest and God hurries thy soul to the fire, she shall blacken thy face with her ordure, of her mourning for thee, and lament and buffet her face, saying, "O frosty-beard, what a ninny thou wast!"'[FN#125] The Khalif laughed till he fell backward, and ordered the Bedouin three thousand dirhems.

THE KHALIF OMAR BEN KHETTAB AND THE YOUNG BEDOUIN.

The sheriff[FN#126] Hussein ben Reyyan relates that the Khalif Omar ben Khettab was sitting one day, attended by his chief counsellors, judging the folk and doing justice between his subjects, when there came up to him two handsome young men, haling by the collar a third youth, perfectly handsome and well dressed, whom they set before him. Omar looked at him and bade them loose him; then, calling him near to himself, said to them, 'What is your case with him?' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered they, 'we are two brothers by one mother and known as followers of the truth. We had a father, a very old man of good counsel, held in honour of the tribes, pure of basenesses and renowned for virtues, who reared us tenderly, whilst we were little, and loaded us with favours, when we grew up; in fine, a man abounding in noble and illustrious qualities, worthy of the poet's words:

"Is Abou es Sekr of Sheiban[FN#127]?" they questioned of me;
     and "No," I answered, "my life upon it! But Sheiban's of
     him, I trow.
How many a father hath ris'n in repute by a noble son, As
     Adnan,[FN#128] by God's Apostle, to fame and glory did
     grow!"

He went forth this day to his garden, to take his pleasure amongst its trees and pluck the ripe fruits, when this young man slew him and swerved from the road of righteousness; wherefore we demand of thee the retribution of his crime and call upon thee to pass judgment upon him, according to the commandment of God.'

The Khalif cast a terrible look at the accused youth and said to him, 'Thou hearest the complaint of these young men; what hast thou to say in reply?' Now he was stout of heart and ready of speech, having doffed the wede of faint-heartedness and put off the apparel of affright; so he smiled and after paying the usual ceremonial compliment to the Khalif, in the most eloquent and elegant words, said, 'O Commander of the Faithful, I have given ear to their complaint, and they have said sooth in that which they avouch, so far as they have set out what befell; and the commandment of God is a decreed decree.[FN#129] But I will state my case before thee, and thine be it to decide thereon.

Know then, O Commander of the Faithful, that I am a very Arab of the Arabs, the noblest of those that are beneath the skies. I grew up in the dwellings of the desert, till evil and hostile times fell upon my tribe, when I came to the utterward of this town, with my children and good and household. As I went along one of the paths between the gardens, with my she-camels, high in esteem with me and precious to me, and midst them a stallion of noble race and goodly shape, a plenteous getter, by whom the females bore abundantly and who walked among them, as he were a crowned king,—behold, one of the she-camels broke away and running to the garden of these young men's father, began to crop the branches that showed above the wall. I ran to her, to drive her away, when there appeared, at a breach of the wall, an old man, whose eyes sparkled with anger, holding a stone in his right hand and swaying to and fro, like a lion preparing for a spring. He cast the stone at my stallion, and it struck him in a vital part and killed him. When I saw the stallion drop dead beside me, live coals of anger were kindled in my heart; so I took up the stone and throwing it at the old man, it was the cause of his end: thus his own wrongful act returned against him and the man was slain of that wherewith he slew. When the stone struck him, he cried out with a terrible great cry, and I hastened from the spot; but these young men hurried after me and laying hands on me, carried me before thee.'

Quoth Omar, (may God the Most High accept of him), 'Thou hast confessed thy crime and acquittal is impossible; for [the law of] retaliation is imperative and there is no time of escape.' [FN#130] 'I hear and obey the judgment of the Imam,' answered the Bedouin, 'and am content to submit me to the requirement of the law of Islam; but I have a young brother, whose old father, before his death, appointed to him great store of wealth and much gold and committed his affair to me, saying, "I give this into thy hand for thy brother; keep it for him with thy might." So I took the money and buried it; nor doth any know of it but I. Now, if thou adjudge me to die forthright, the money will be lost and thou wilt be the cause of its loss; wherefore the little one will sue thee for his due on the day when God shall judge His creatures. But, if thou wilt grant me three days' delay, I will appoint one to undertake the boy's affair, in my stead, and return to answer my debt; and I have one who will be my surety for this my word.'

The Khalif bowed his head awhile, then raised it and looking round upon those present, said, 'Who will be surety to me for his return?' The Bedouin looked at the faces of those who were in company and pointing to Abou Dherr,[FN#131] said, 'This man will answer for me and be my surety.' 'O Abou Dherr,' said Omar, 'dost thou hear what this youth says and wilt thou be surety to me for his return?' 'Yes, O Commander of the Faithful,' answered Abou Dherr, 'I will be surety for him three days.' So the Khalif accepted his guarantee and let the young man go.

Now, at the appointed time, when the days of grace were nearly or quite at end and still the Bedouin came not, the Khalif sat in his council, with the Companions[FN#132] surrounding him, like the stars about the moon, Abou Dherr and the plaintiffs being also present; and the latter said, 'O Abou Dherr, where is the defendant and how shall he return, having once escaped? But we will not stir hence, till thou bring him to us, that we may take our wreak of him.' 'As the All-Wise King liveth,' replied Abou Dherr, 'if the days of grace expire and the young man return not, I will fulfil my warranty and surrender myself to the Imam.' 'By Allah,' rejoined Omar, 'if the young man tarry, I will assuredly execute on Abou Dherr that which is prescribed by the law of Islam!' Thereupon the eyes of the bystanders ran over with tears; those who looked on raised groans, and great was the clamour. Then the chiefs of the Companions were instant with the plaintiffs to accept the bloodwit and win the thanks of the folk, but they refused and would nothing but the talion. However, as the folk were swaying to and fro and clamorously bemoaning Abou Dherr, up came the young Bedouin, with face beaded with sweat and shining like the new moon, and standing before the Imam, saluted him right fairly and said to him, 'I have given the boy in charge to his mother's brothers and have made them acquainted with all that pertains to his affairs and let them into the secret of his good; after which I braved the heats of midday and am come to redeem the promise of a free-born man.'

The folk marvelled at his good faith and loyalty and his intrepid offering himself to death; and one said to him, 'How noble a youth art thou and how loyal to thy promise and thy duty!' 'Are ye not certified,' rejoined he, 'that when death presenteth itself none can escape from it? And indeed I have kept faith, that it be not said, "Loyalty is gone from among men."' 'By Allah, O Commander of the Faithful,' said Abou Dherr, 'I became warrant for this young man, without knowing to what tribe he belonged, nor had I seen him before that day; but when he turned away from all else who were present and singled me out, saying, "This man will answer for me and be my surety," I thought ill to refuse him, and humanity forbade to baulk his expectation, there being no harm in compliance with his desire, that it be not said, "Benevolence is gone from among men."' Then said the two young men, 'O Commander of the Faithful, we forgive this youth our father's blood,—seeing that [by his noble behaviour] he hath changed desolation into cheer,—that it be not said, "Humanity is gone from among men."'

The Khalif rejoiced in the acquittance of the young Bedouin and his truth and good faith; moreover, he extolled the humanity of Abou Dherr, over all his companions, and approved the benevolent resolve of the two young men, giving them grateful praise and applying to their case the saying of the poet:

He who doth good among the folk shall be repaid again; For works of Good are never lost betwixten God and men.

Then he offered to pay them, from the Treasury, the bloodwit for their father; but they refused, saying, 'We forgave him but of our desire unto God the Bountiful, the Exalted; and he who is thus minded followeth not his benefits with reproach neither mischief.'

THE KHALIF EL MAMOUN AND THE PYRAMIDS OF EGYPT.

It is told that the Khalif El Mamoun, son of Haroun er Reshid, when he entered the [God-]guarded city of Cairo, was minded to pull down the Pyramids, that he might take what was therein; but, when he went about to do this, he could not avail thereto, for all his endeavour. He expended great sums of money in the attempt, but only succeeded in opening up a small gallery in one of them, wherein he found treasure, to the exact amount of the money he had spent in the works, neither more nor less; at which he marvelled and taking what he found there, desisted from his intent.

Now the Pyramids are three in number, and they are one of the wonders of the world; nor is there on the face of the earth their like for height and fashion and skilful ordinance; for they are builded of immense rocks, and they who built them proceeded by piercing one block of stone and setting therein upright rods of iron; after which they pierced a second block of stone and lowered it upon the first. Then they poured melted lead upon the joints and set the blocks in geometrical order, till the building was complete. The height of each pyramid was a hundred cubits, of the measure of the time, and it was four- square, each side three hundred cubits long, at the bottom, and sloping upward thence to a point. The ancients say that, in the western Pyramid, are thirty chambers of vari-coloured granite, full of precious stones and treasures galore and rare images and utensils and costly arms, which latter are anointed with magical unguents, so that they may not rust till the day of Resurrection. Therein, also, are vessels of glass, that will bend and not break, containing various kinds of compound drugs and medicinal waters. In the second Pyramid are the records of the priests, written on tablets of granite,—to each priest his tablet, on which are set out the wonders of his craft and his achievements; and on the walls are figures like idols, working with their hands at all manner crafts and seated on thrones. To each pyramid there is a guardian, that keeps watch over it and guards it, to all eternity, against the ravages of time and the vicissitudes of events; and indeed the marvels of these pyramids astound all who have eyes and wit. Many are the poems that describe them, thou shalt profit no great matter thereby, and among the rest, quoth one of them:

The high resolves of kings, if they would have them to abide In
     memory, after them, are in the tongues of monuments.
Dost thou not see the Pyramids? They, of a truth, endure And
     change not for the shifts of time or chances of events.

And again:

Consider but the Pyramids and lend an ear to all They tell of
     bygone times and that which did of yore befall.
Could they but speak, assuredly they would to us relate What
     time and fate have done with first and last and great and
     small.

And again:

I prithee, tell me, friend of mine, stands there beneath the
     sky A building with the Pyramids of Egypt that can vie
In skilful ordinance? Behold, Time's self's afraid of them,
     Though of all else upon the earth 'tis dreaded, low and
     high.
My sight no longer rests upon their wondrous ordinance, Yet are
     they present evermore unto my spirit's eye.

And again:

Where's he the Pyramids who built? What was his tribe, His time
     and what the place where he was stricken dead?
The monuments survive their lords awhile; then death O'ertaketh
     them and they fall prostrate in their stead.

THE THIEF TURNED MERCHANT AND THE OTHER THIEF.

There was once a thief who repented to God the Most High and making good his repentance, opened himself a shop for the sale of stuffs, where he continued to trade awhile. One day, he locked his shop and went home; and in the night there came to the bazaar a cunning thief, disguised in the habit of the merchant, and pulling out keys from his sleeve, said to the watchman of the market, 'Light me this candle.' So the watchman took the candle and went to get a light, whilst the thief opened the shop and lit another candle he had with him. When the watchman came back, he found him seated in the shop, looking over the account-books and reckoning with his fingers; nor did he leave to do thus till point of day, when he said to the man, 'Fetch me a camel-driver and his camel, to carry some goods for me.' So the man fetched him a camel, and the thief took four bales of stuffs and gave them to the camel-driver, who loaded them on his beast. Then he gave the watchman two dirhems and went away after the camel-driver, the watchman the while believing him to be the owner of the shop.

Next morning, the merchant came and the watchman greeted him with blessings, because of the two dirhems, much to the surprise of the former, who knew not what he meant. When he opened his shop, he saw the droppings of the wax and the account-book lying on the floor, and looking round, found four bales of stuffs missing. So he asked the watchman what had happened and he told him what had passed in the night, whereupon the merchant bade him fetch the camel-driver and said to the latter, 'Whither didst thou carry the stuffs?' 'To such a wharf,' answered the driver; 'and I stowed them on board such a vessel.' 'Come with me thither,' said the merchant. So the camel-driver carried him to the wharf and showed him the barque and her owner. Quoth the merchant to the latter, 'Whither didst thou carry the merchant and the stuff?' 'To such a place,' answered the master, 'where he fetched a camel-driver and setting the bales on the camel, went I know not whither.' 'Fetch me the camel-driver,' said the merchant; so he fetched him and the merchant said to him, 'Whither didst thou carry the bales of stuffs from the ship?' 'To such a khan,' answered he. 'Come thither with me and show it to me,' said the merchant.

So the camel-driver went with him to a khan at a distance from the shore, where he had set down the stuffs, and showed him the mock merchant's magazine, which he opened and found therein his four bales untouched and unopened. The thief had laid his mantle over them; so the merchant took the bales and the cloak and delivered them to the camel-driver, who laid them on his camel; after which the merchant locked the magazine and went away with the camel-driver. On the way, he met the thief, who followed him, till he had shipped the bales, when he said to him, 'O my brother (God have thee in His keeping!), thou hast recovered thy goods, and nought of them is lost; so give me back my cloak.' The merchant laughed and giving him back his cloak, let him go unhindered.

MESROUR THE EUNUCH AND IBN EL CARIBI

The Khalif Haroun er Reshid was very restless one night; so he said to his Vizier Jaafer, 'I am sleepless tonight and my heart is oppressed and I know not what to do.' Now his henchman Mesrour was standing before him, and he laughed. Quoth the Khalif, 'Dost thou laugh in derision of me or art thou mad?' 'Neither, by Allah, O Commander of the Faithful,' answered Mesrour, 'by thy kinship to the Prince of Apostles, I did it not of my free-will; but I went out yesterday to walk and coming to the bank of the Tigris, saw there the folk collected about a man named Ibn el Caribi, who was making them laugh; and but now I recalled what he said, and laughter got the better of me; and I crave pardon of thee, O Commander of the Faithful!' 'Bring him to me forthright,' said the Khalif. So Mesrour repaired in all haste to Ibn el Caribi and said to him, 'The Commander of the Faithful calls for thee.' 'I hear and obey,' answered the droll. 'But on condition,' added Mesrour, 'that, if he give thee aught, thou shalt have a fourth and the rest shall be mine.' 'Nay,' replied the other, 'thou shalt have half and I half.' 'Not so,' insisted Mesrour; 'I will have three- quarters.' 'Thou shalt have two-thirds, then,' rejoined Ibn el Caribi; 'and I the other third.' To this Mesrour agreed, after much haggling, and they returned to the palace together.

When Ibn el Caribi came into the Khalif's presence, he saluted him, as became his rank, and stood before him; whereupon said Er Reshid to him, 'If thou do not make me laugh, I will give thee three blows with this bag.' Quoth Ibn el Caribi in himself, 'Three strokes with that bag were a small matter, seeing that beating with whips irketh me not;' for he thought the bag was empty. Then he clapped into a discourse, such as would make a stone laugh, and gave vent to all manner of drolleries; but the Khalif laughed not neither smiled, whereat Ibn el Caribi marvelled and was chagrined and affrighted. Then said the Khalif, 'Now hast thou earned the beating,' and gave him a blow with the bag, in which were four pebbles, each two pounds in weight. The blow fell on his neck and he gave a great cry, then calling to mind his compact with Mesrour, said, 'Pardon, O Commander of the Faithful! Hear two words from me.' 'Say on,' replied the Khalif. Quoth Ibn el Caribi, 'Mesrour made it a condition with me that, whatsoever might come to me of the bounties of the Commander of the Faithful, one-third thereof should be mine and the rest his; nor did he agree to leave me so much as one-third save after much haggling. Now thou hast bestowed on me nothing but beating; I have had my share and here stands he, ready to receive his; so give him the two other blows.'

When the Khalif heard this, he laughed till he fell backward; then calling Mesrour, he gave him a blow, whereat he cried out and said, 'O Commander of the Faithful, one-third sufficeth me: give him the two-thirds.' The Khalif laughed at them and ordered them a thousand diners each, and they went away, rejoicing.

THE DEVOUT PRINCE.

The Khalif Haroun er Reshid had a son, who, from the time he attained the age of sixteen, renounced the world and walked in the way of ascetics and devotees. He was wont to go out to the tombs and say, 'Behold, ye that lie here once possessed the world, but that was no deliverer for you [from death], and now are ye come to your graves! Would God I knew what ye say and what is said to you!' And he wept, as one weeps that is troubled and fearful, and repeated the words of the poet:

Whene'er the funerals pass, my heart with fear is torn, And the wailing of the mourners maketh me to mourn.

One day, as he sat among the tombs, according to his wont, his father passed by, in all his state, surrounded by his viziers and grandees and the officers of his household, who saw the Khalif's son, with a gown of woollen stuff on his body and a cowl of the same on his head, and said to one another, 'This youth dishonours the Commander of the Faithful among Kings: but, if he reproved him, he would leave his present way of life.' The Khalif heard what they said; so he bespoke his son of this, saying, 'O my son, thou puttest me to shame by thy present way of life.' The young man looked at him and made no reply: then he beckoned to a bird, that was perched on the battlements of the palace, and said to it, 'O bird, I conjure thee, by Him who created thee, alight upon my hand.' And straightway it flew down and perched on his hand. Quoth he, 'Return to thy place;' and it did so. Then he said, 'Alight on the hand of the Commander of the Faithful;' but it refused, and he said to his father, 'It is thou that puttest me to shame, amongst the friends of God, by thy love of the world; and now I am resolved to depart from thee, never to return to thee, save in the world to come.' Then he went down to Bassora, where he fell to working with those that wrought in mud,[FN#133] taking, as his day's hire, but a dirhem and a danic.[FN#134] With the danic he fed himself and gave alms of the dirhem.

(Quoth Abou Aamir of Bassora), There fell down a wall in my house: so I went out to the station of the artisans, to find one who should set it up for me, and my eyes fell on a handsome youth of a radiant countenance. So I accosted him and said to him, "O my friend, dost thou seek work?" "Yes," answered he; and I said, "Come with me and build a wall." "On two conditions," replied he. Quoth I, "What are they, O my friend?" "First," said he, "that my hire be a dirhem and a danic, and secondly, that, when the Muezzin calls to prayer, thou shalt let me go pray with the congregation." "It is well," answered I and carried him to my house, where he fell to work, such work as I never saw the like of. Presently, I named to him the morning meal; but he said, "No;" and I knew that he was fasting. When he heard the call to prayer, he said to me, "Thou knowest the condition?" "Yes," answered I. So he loosed his girdle and applying himself to the ablution, made it after a fashion than which I never saw a goodlier; then went to the mosque and prayed with the congregation and returned to his work. He did the like upon the call to afternoon-prayer, and when I saw him fall to work again thereafterward, I said to him, "O my friend, the hours of labour are over for to-day; a workman's day is but till the time of afternoon-prayer." "Glory be to God," answered he, "my service is till the night." And he ceased not to work till nightfall, when I gave him two dirhems. Quoth he, "What is this?" "By Allah," answered I, "this is [but] part of thy wage, because of thy diligence in my service." But he threw me back the two pieces, saying, "I will have no more than was agreed upon between us." I pressed him to take them, but could not prevail upon him; so I gave him the dirhem and the danic, and he went away.

Next morning early, I went to the station, but found him not; so I enquired for him and was told that he came thither only on Saturdays. So, when Saturday came, I betook me to the market and finding him there, said to him, "In the name of God, do me the favour to come and work for me." ["Willingly,"] said he, "upon the conditions thou wottest of." "It is well," answered I and carrying him to my house, stood watching him, unseen of him, and saw him take a handful of mud and lay it on the wall, when, behold, the stones ranged themselves one upon another; and I said, "On this wise are the friends of God." He worked out his day and did even more than before; and when it was night, I gave him his hire, and he took it and went away.

When the third Saturday came round, I went to the standing, but found him not; so I enquired for him and was told that he lay sick in the hut of such a woman. Now this was an old woman, renowned for piety, who had a hut of reeds in the burial- ground. So I went thither and found him lying on the naked earth, with a brick for a pillow and his face beaming with light. I saluted him and he returned my salute; and I sat down at his head, weeping over his tenderness of years and strangerhood and submission to the will of his Lord. Then said I to him, "Hast thou any need?" "Yes," answered he; and I said, "What is it?" He replied, "Come hither tomorrow in the forenoon and thou wilt find me dead. Wash me and dig my grave and tell none thereof: but shroud me in this my gown, after thou hast unsewn it and taken out what thou shalt find in the bosom, which keep with thee. Then, when thou hast prayed over me and laid me in the dust, go to Baghdad and watch for the Khalif Haroun er Reshid, till he come forth, when do thou bear him my salutation and give him what thou shalt find in the breast of my gown." Then he made the profession of the Faith and glorified his Lord in the most eloquent of words, reciting the following verses:

Carry the trust of him on whom the wished-for death hath come
     To Er Reshid, and thy reward with thy Creator stand!
"An exile greets thee," say, "who longed full sorely for thy
     sight; With long desire he yearned for thee, far in a
     foreign strand.
Nor hate nor weariness from thee estranged him, for, indeed, To
     God Most High he was brought near by kissing thy right
     hand.
But, O my father, 'twas his heart, shunning the vain delights
     Of this thy world, that drove him forth to seek a distant
     land!"

Then he betook himself to prayer, asking pardon of God and blessing the Lord of the Just[FN#135] and repeating verses of the Koran; after which he recited the following:

Let not prosperity delude thee, father mine; For fortune wastes
     and life itself must pass away.
Whenas thou com'st to know of folk in evil plight, Think thou
     must answer it upon the Judgment Day;
And when thou bearest forth the dead unto the tombs, Think that
     thou, too, must pass upon the self-same way!

Then I left him and went home. On the morrow, I returned, at the appointed hour, and found him indeed dead, the mercy of God be on him! So I washed him and unsewing his gown, found in the bosom a ruby worth thousands of diners and said to myself, "By Allah, this youth was indeed abstracted from the things of this world!" After I had buried him, I made my way to Baghdad and going to the Khalif's palace, waited till he came forth, when I accosted him in one of the streets and gave him the ruby, which when he saw, he knew and fell down in a swoon. His attendants laid hands on me, but he revived and bade them unhand me and bring me courteously to the palace. They did his bidding, and when he returned, he sent for me and carrying me into his closet, said to me, "How doth the owner of this ruby?" Quoth I, "He is dead;" and told him what had passed; whereupon he fell a-weeping and said, "The son hath profited, but the father is disappointed." Then he called out, saying, "Ho, such an one!" And behold, a woman came out to him. When she saw me, she would have withdrawn; but he said to her, "Come; and heed him not." So she entered and saluted, and he threw her the ruby, which when she knew, she gave a great shriek and fell down in a swoon. As soon as she came to herself, she said, "O Commander of the Faithful, what hath God done with my son?" And he said to me, "Do thou tell her;" for he could not speak for weeping. So I repeated the story to her, and she began to weep and say in a failing voice, "How I have longed for thy sight, O consolation of my eyes! Would I might have given thee to drink, when thou hadst none to tend thee! Would I might have companied with thee, whenas thou foundest none to cheer thee!" And she poured forth tears and recited the following verses:

I weep for one to whom death came, an exile and in pain: Alone
     he died, without a friend to whom he might complain.
Puissant and honoured and conjoined with those that loved him
     dear, To live alone and seeing none, unfriended, he was
     fain.
That which the days conceal shall yet be manifest to us: Not
     one of us by death, indeed, unsmitten may remain.
O absent one, the Lord of all decreed thy strangerhood, And
     thou left'st far behind the love that was betwixt us
     twain!
Though death, my son, forbid me hope to see thee in this life,
     Tomorrow, on the Reckoning-Day, we two shall meet again.

Quoth I, "O Commander of the Faithful, was he indeed thy son?" "Yes," answered he; "and indeed, before I succeeded to this office, he was wont to visit the learned and company with the devout; but, when I became Khalif, he grew estranged from me and withdrew himself apart. Then said I to his mother, 'This thy son is absorbed in God the Most High, and it may be that tribulations shall befall him and he be smitten with stress of evil chance; wherefore, do thou give him this ruby, that it may be to him a resource in the hour of need.' So she gave it him, conjuring him to take it, and he obeyed her. Then he left the things of our world to us and removed himself from us; nor did he cease to be absent from us, till he went to the presence of God (to whom belong might and majesty) with a holy and pure mind." Then said he, "Come, show me his grave." So we repaired to Bassora and I showed him his son's grave. When he saw it, he wept and lamented, till he fell down in a swoon; after which he came to himself and asked pardon of God, saying, "We are God's, and to Him we return!" and invoked blessings on the dead. Then he besought me of companionship; but I said to him, "O Commander of the Faithful, verily, in thy son's case is for me the gravest of admonitions!" And I recited the following verses:

'Tis I am the stranger! None harbours the wight, Though he lie
     in his native city by night.
'Tis I am the exile! Nor children nor wife Nor comrades have I,
     to take ruth on my plight.
The mosques are my refuge; I haunt them indeed: My heart from
     their shelter shall never take flight.
To the Lord of all creatures, to God be the praise, Whilst yet
     in the body abideth the spright!

THE SCHOOLMASTER WHO FELL IN LOVE BY REPORT.

(Quoth one of the erudite), I passed once by a [school, in which a] schoolmaster, comely of aspect and well dressed, was teaching children; so I entered, and he rose and made me sit with him. Then I examined him in the Koran and in syntax and poetry and lexicography, and found him perfect in all that was required of him and said to him, "God strengthen thy purpose! Thou art indeed versed in all that is sought of thee." So I frequented him awhile, discovering daily some new excellence in him, and said to myself, "This is indeed a wonder in a schoolmaster; for the understanding are agreed upon the lack of wit of those that teach children." Then I separated myself from him and sought him out and visited him [only] every few days, till, one day, coming to see him as of wont, I found the school shut and made enquiry of the neighbours, who said, "Some one is dead in his house." So I said to myself, "It behoves me to pay him a visit of condolence," and going to his house, knocked at the door. A slave-girl came out to me and said, "What dost thou want?" "I want thy master," answered I. Quoth she, "He is sitting alone, mourning." "Tell him," rejoined I, "that his friend so and so seeks to condole with him." She went in and told him; and he said, "Admit him." So she brought me in to him, and I found him seated alone and his head bound [with the fillets of mourning]. "May God amply requite thee!" said I. "This is a road all must perforce travel, and it behoves thee to take patience. But who is dead unto thee?" "One who was dearest and best beloved of the folk to me," answered he. Quoth I, "Perhaps thy father?" He replied, "No;" and I said, "Thy mother?" "No," answered he. "Thy brother?" "No." "One of thy kindred?" "No." "Then," asked I, "what relation was the dead to thee?" "My mistress," answered he. Quoth I to myself, "This is the first sign of his lack of wit." Then I said to him, "There are others than she and fairer;" and he answered, "I never saw her, that I might judge whether or no there be others fairer than she." Quoth I to myself, "This is another sign" Then I said to him, "And how couldst thou fall in love with one thou hast never seen?" Quoth he, "I was sitting one day at the window, when there passed by a man, singing the following verse:

Umm Amri,[FN#136] God requite thee thy generosity! Give back my heart, prithee, wherever it may be!

When I heard this, I said to myself, 'Except this Umm Amri were without equal in the world, the poets had not celebrated her in amorous verse.' So I fell in love with her; but, two days after, the same man passed, singing the following verse:

The jackass with Umm Amri departed; but, alas, Umm Amri! She returned not again, nor did the ass.

Thereupon I knew that she was dead and mourned for her. This was three days ago, and I have been mourning ever since." So I left him and went away, having assured myself of the feebleness of his wit.

THE FOOLISH SCHOOLMASTER

A man of elegant culture once entered a school and sitting down by the master, entered into discourse with him and found him an accomplished theologian, poet, grammarian and lexicographer, intelligent, well bred and pleasant; whereat he wondered, saying in himself, 'It cannot be that a man, who teaches children in a school, should have a perfect wit.' When he was about to go away, the schoolmaster said to him, 'Thou art my guest to-night;' and he consented and accompanied him to his house, where he made much of him and set food before him. They ate and drank and sat talking, till a third part of the night was past, when the host spread his guest a bed and went up to his harem. The other lay down and addressed himself to sleep, when, behold, there arose a great clamour in the harem. He asked what was to do, and they said, 'A terrible thing hath befallen the sheikh, and he is at the last gasp.' 'Take me up to him,' said he. So they carried him to the schoolmaster, whom he found lying insensible, with his blood streaming down. He sprinkled water on his face and when he revived, he said to him, 'What has betided thee? When thou leftest me, thou west in all good cheer and sound of body.' 'O my brother,' answered the schoolmaster, 'after I left thee, I sat meditating on the works of God the Most High and said to myself, "In every thing God hath created for man there is an use; for He (to whom be glory) created the hands to seize, the feet to walk, the eyes to see, the ears to hear and the yard to do the deed of kind; and so on with all the members of the body, except these two cullions; there is no use in them." So I took a razor I had by me and cut them off; and there befell me what thou seest.' So the guest left him and went away, saving, 'He was in the right who said, "No schoolmaster who teaches children can have a perfect wit, though he know all sciences."

THE IGNORANT MAN WHO SET UP FOR A SCHOOLMASTER.

There was once, among the hangers-on of the collegiate mosque, a man who knew not how to read and write and got his bread by gulling the folk. One day, he bethought him to open a school and teach children; so he got him tablets and written scrolls and hung them up in a [conspicuous] place. Then he enlarged his turban and sat down at the door of the school. The people, who passed by and saw his turban and the tablets and scrolls, thought he must be a very learned doctor; so they brought him their children; and he would say to this, 'Write,' and to that, 'Read;' and thus they taught one another.

One day, as he sat, as of wont, at the door of the school, he saw a woman coming up, with a letter in her hand, and said to himself, 'This woman doubtless seeks me, that I may read her the letter she has in her hand. How shall I do with her seeing I cannot read writing?' And he would fain have gone down and fled from her; but, before he could do this, she overtook him and said to him, 'Whither away?' Quoth he, 'I purpose to pray the noontide-prayer and return.' 'Noon is yet distant,' said she; 'so read me this letter.' He took the letter and turning it upside down, fell to looking at it, now shaking his head and anon knitting his eyebrows and showing concern. Now the letter came from the woman's husband, who was absent; and when she saw the schoolmaster do thus, she said, 'Doubtless my husband is dead, and this learned man is ashamed to tell me so.' So she said to him, 'O my lord, if he be dead, tell me.' But he shook his head and held his peace. Then said she, 'Shall I tear my clothes?' 'Tear,' answered he. 'Shall I buffet my face?' asked she; and he said, 'Buffet.' So she took the letter from his hand and returning home, fell a-weeping, she and her children.

One of her neighbours heard her weeping and asking what ailed her, was answered, 'She hath gotten a letter, telling her that her husband is dead.' Quoth the man, 'This is a lying saying; for I had a letter from him but yesterday, advising me that he is in good health and case and will be with her after ten days.' So he rose forthright and going in to her, said, 'Where is the letter thou hast received?' She brought it to him, and he took it and read it; and it ran as follows, after the usual salutations, 'I am well and in good health and case and will be with thee after ten days. Meanwhile, I send thee a quilt and an extinguisher.'[FN#137] So she took the letter and returning with it to the schoolmaster, said to him, 'What moved thee to deal thus with me?' And she repeated to him what her neighbour had told her of her husband's well-being and of his having sent her a quilt and an extinguisher. 'Thou art in the right,' answered he. 'But excuse me, good woman; for I was, at the time, troubled and absent-minded and seeing the extinguisher wrapped in the quilt, thought that he was dead and they had shrouded him.' The woman, not smoking the cheat, said, 'Thou art excused.' and taking the letter, went away.

THE KING AND THE VIRTUOUS WIFE

A certain King once went forth in disguise, to look into the affairs of his subjects. Presently, he came to a great village and being athirst, stopped at the door of a house and asked for water. There came out to him a fair woman, with a pitcher of water, which she gave him, and he drank. When he looked at her, he was ravished with her and required her of love. Now she knew him; so she brought him into the house and making him sit down, brought out a book and said to him, 'Look in this book, whilst I order my affair and return to thee.' So he looked into the book, and behold, it treated of the Divine prohibition against adultery and of the punishments that God hath prepared for those that do it. When he read this, his flesh quaked and he repented to God the Most High: then he called the woman and giving her the book, went away. Now her husband was absent and when he returned, she told him what had passed, whereat he was confounded and said in himself, 'I fear lest the King's desire have fallen upon her.' And he dared not have to do with her after this.

After awhile, the wife told her kinsfolk of her husband's conduct, and they complained of him to the King, saying, 'May God advance the King! This man hired of us a piece of land, for tillage, and tilled it awhile; then left it fallow and tilled it not, neither forsook it, that we might let it to one who would till it. Indeed, harm is come to the field, and we fear its corruption, for that land, if it be not tilled' spoileth.' Quoth the King to the man, 'What hinders thee from tilling thy land?' 'May God advance the King!' answered he. 'It came to my knowledge that a lion entered the field, wherefore I stood in awe of him and dared not approach it, seeing that I know I cannot cope with the lion, and I stand in fear of him.' The King understood the parable and rejoined, saying, 'O fellow, the lion trampled not thy land, and it is good for tillage; so do thou till it and God prosper thee in it, for the lion hath done it no hurt.' Then he bade give the man and his wife a handsome present and sent them away.

ABDURREHMAN THE MOOR'S STORY OF THE ROC.

There was once a man of the people of Morocco, called Abdurrehman the Moor, and he was known, to boot, as the Chinaman, for his long sojourn in Cathay. He had journeyed far and wide and traversed many seas and deserts and was wont to relate wondrous tales of his travels. He was once cast upon an island, where he abode a long while and returning thence to his native country, brought with him the quill of the wing-feather of a young roe, whilst yet unhatched and in the egg; and this quill was big enough to hold a skinful of water, for it is said that the length of the young roe's wing, when it comes forth of the egg, is a thousand fathoms. The folk marvelled at this quill, when they saw it, and Abdurrehman related to them the following adventure.

He was on a voyage in the China seas, with a company of merchants, when they sighted a great island so they steered for it and casting anchor before it, saw that it was large and spacious. The ship's people went ashore to get wood and water, taking with them skins and ropes and axes, and presently espied a great white gleaming dome, a hundred cubits high. So they made towards it and drawing near, found that it was a roe's egg and fell on it with axes and stones and sticks, till they uncovered the young bird and found it as it were a firm-set mountain. They went about to pluck out one of its wing-feathers, but could not win to do so, save by helping one another, for all the feathers were not full grown; after which they took what they could carry of the young bird's flesh and cutting the quill away from the feather-part, returned to the ship. Then they spread the canvas and putting out to sea, sailed with a fair wind all that night, till the sun rose, when they saw the old roc come flying after them, as he were a vast cloud, with a rock in his talons, like a great mountain, bigger than the ship. As soon as he came over the vessel, he let fall the rock upon it; but the ship, having great way on her, forewent the rock, which fell into the sea with a terrible crash. So God decreed them safety and delivered them from destruction; and they cooked the young bird's flesh and ate it. Now there were amongst them old grey bearded men; and when they awoke on the morrow, they found that their beards had turned black, nor did any who had eaten of the young roc ever grow grey. Some held the cause of the return of youth to them and the ceasing of hoariness from them to be that they had heated the pot with arrow-wood, whilst others would have it that it came of eating the young roe's flesh; and this is indeed a wonder of wonders.

ADI BEN ZEID AND THE PRINCESS HIND.

En Numan ben el Mundhir, King of the Arabs [of Irak], had a daughter named Hind, who was eleven years old and was the loveliest woman of her age and time. She went out one Easter, which is a feast-day of the Nazarenes,[FN#138] to the White Church, to take the sacrament. Now that day came to El Hireh a young man called Adi ben Zeid,[FN#139] with presents from Chosroës,[FN#140] to En Numan, and he also went into the White Church, to communicate. He was tall and well-favoured, with handsome eyes and smooth cheeks, and had with him a company of his people. Now there was with Hind a slave-girl named Mariyeh, who was enamoured of Adi, but had not been able to win to him. So, when she saw him in the church, she said to Hind, 'Look at yonder youth. By Allah, he is handsomer than all thou seest!' 'And who is he?' asked Hind. 'Adi ben Zeid,' answered Mariyeh Quoth the princess, 'I fear lest he know me, if I draw near, to look on him closelier.' 'How should he know thee,' said Mariyeh, 'when he has never seen thee?' So she drew near him and found him jesting with his companions; and indeed he surpassed them all, not only in his beauty, but in the excellence of his speech and the eloquence of his tongue and the richness of his apparel. When the princess saw him, she was ravished with him, her reason was confounded and her colour changed; and Mariyeh, seeing her inclination to him, said to her, 'Speak to him.' So she spoke to him and went away.

When he saw her and heard her speech, he was captivated by her and his wit was dazed; his colour changed and his heart fluttered, so that his companions misdoubted of him, and he whispered one of them to follow her and find out who she was. The man followed her and returning to his master, informed him that she was the princess Hind, daughter of En Numan. So Adi left the church, knowing not whither he went, for stress of love, and reciting the following verses:

Companions mine, yet one more favour I entreat: Address ye to
     the ways once more your travelling feet.
Turn me towards the lands, the lands where Hinda dwells; Then
     go and her I love with tidings of me greet.

Then he went to his lodging and lay that night, restless nor tasting sleep. On the morrow, Mariyeh accosted him, and he received her kindly, though before he would not hearken to her, and said to her, 'What is thy will?' Quoth she, 'I have a suit to thee.' 'Name it,' answered he; 'for, by Allah, thou shalt not ask me aught, but I will give it thee!' So she told him that she was in love with him, and her suit to him was that he would grant her a lover's privacy; and he agreed to do her will, on condition that she would serve him with Hind and make shift to bring them together. Then he took her into a vintner's shop, in one of the by-streets of Hireh, and lay with her; after which she returned to Hind and said to her, 'Dost thou not long to see Adi?' 'How can this be?' replied the princess. 'Indeed my longing for him makes me restless, and no repose is left me since yesterday, on his account.' Quoth Mariyeh, 'I will appoint him to be in such a place, where thou canst look on him from the palace.' 'Do what thou wilt,' replied Hind and agreed with her upon the place.

So Adi came, and the princess looked out upon him; and when she saw him, she was like to fall down from the top of the palace and said to Mariyeh, 'Except thou bring him in to me this night, I shall die.' So saying, she fell down in a swoon, and her serving-women lifted her up and bore her into the palace; whilst Mariyeh hastened to En Numan and discovered the whole matter to him, saying, 'Verily, she is mad for love of Adi; and except thou marry her to him, she will be put to shame and die of love for him.' The King bowed his head awhile in thought and exclaimed again and again, 'Verily, we are God's and to Him we return!' Then said he, 'Out on thee! How shall the marriage be brought about, seeing it misliketh me to open the matter to him?' 'He is yet more ardently in love and yet more desireful of her than she of him,' answered Mariyeh; 'and I will so order the matter that he shall be unaware that his case is known to thee; but do not betray thyself, O King.'

Them she went to Adi and said to him, 'Make a feast and bid the King thereto; and when wine hath gotten the better of him, ask of him the hand of his daughter, for he will not refuse thee.' Quoth Adi, 'I fear lest this enrage him against me and be the cause of enmity between us.'

But she answered, 'I came not to thee, till I had settled the whole matter with him.' Then she returned to En Numan and said to him, 'Seek of Adi that he entertain thee in his house.' 'There is no harm in that,' replied the King and after three days, besought Adi to give him and his lords the morning-meal in his house. The young man consented, and the King went to him; and when the wine had taken effect on En Numan, Adi rose and sought of him his daughter in marriage. He consented and married them and brought her to him after three days; and they abode at En Numan's court, in all delight and solace of life, three years, at the end of which time the King was wroth with Adi and slew him. Hind mourned for him with an exceeding grief and built her a convent without the city, whither she retired and devoted herself to religious exercises, weeping and bemoaning her husband, till she died. And her convent is extant to this day without El Hireh.

DIBIL EL KHUZAÏ WITH THE LADY AND MUSLIM BEN EL WELID.

(Quoth Dibil el Khuzaï[FN#141]), I was sitting one day at the gate of El Kerkh,[FN#142] when a lady came up to me, never saw I a handsomer or better shaped than she, walking with a swaying gait and ravishing, with her flexile grace, all who beheld her. When my eyes fell on her, I was captivated by her and my entrails trembled and meseemed my heart fled forth of my breast; so I accosted her with the following verse:

Unsealed are the springs of tears for mine eyes, heigho! And
     sealed are the springs of sleep to my lids, for woe.

She turned her head and looking at me, made answer forthright with the following:

And surely, an ailing eye to have, for him Whom her looks
     invite, is a little thing, I trow.

I was astounded at the readiness of her reply and the sweetness of her speech and rejoined with this verse:

And doth then the heart of my fair indeed incline To favour him
     whose tears as a river flow?

She answered me, without hesitation, thus:

If thou desire us of love, betwixt us love Is a loan to be returned, I'd have thee know.

Never entered my ears sweeter than her speech nor ever saw I brighter than her face: so I changed the rhyme and measure, to try her, in my wonder at her speech, and repeated the following verse:

Will destiny e'er gladden us with union and delight And one desireful one at last with other one unite?

She smiled at this, (never saw I fairer than her mouth nor sweeter than her lips,) and answered me, without hesitation, as follows:

I prithee, what hath destiny to do betwixt us twain? Thou'rt destiny: rejoice us, then, with union and delight.

At this, I sprang up and kissing her hands, said, "I had not thought that Fortune would vouchsafe me such an opportunity. Do thou follow me, not of command or against thy will, but of thy grace and favour to me." Then I went on and she after me.

Now I had not, at that time, a lodging I deemed fit for the like of her; Muslim ben El Welid[FN#143] was my fast friend, and he had a handsome house. So I made for his abode and knocked at the door, whereupon he came out, and I saluted him, saying, "It is for a time like this that friends are treasured up." "With all my heart," answered he; "enter." So we entered, I and the lady, but found money scarce with him. However, he gave me a handkerchief, saying, "Carry it to the market and sell it and buy meat and what else thou needest." So I took the handkerchief and hastening to the market, sold it and bought meat and what else we required; but, when I returned, I found that Muslim had retired, with the lady, to an underground chamber.[FN#144] When he heard me, he came out and said to me, "God requite thee the kindness thou hast done me, O Abou Ali,[FN#145] and reckon it of thy good deeds on the Day of Resurrection!" So saying, he took from me the meat and wine and shut the door in my face His words enraged me and I knew not what to do; but he stood behind the door, shaking for mirth; and when he saw me thus, he said to me, "I conjure thee on my life, O Abou Ali, tell me who it was composed this verse?

I lay in the arms of the fair one all night, Whilst my friend
     slept, clean-limbed, but polluted of spright."

At this, my rage redoubled, and I replied, "He who wrote this other verse:

One, I wish him in's girdle a thousand of horns, Exceeding the idol Menaf[FN#146] in their height!"

Then I began to revile him and reproach him with the foulness of his conduct and his lack of honour; and he was silent. But, when I had finished, he smiled and said, "Out on thee, O fool! Thou hast entered my house and sold my handkerchief and spent my money: so, with whom art thou wroth, O pimp?" Then he left me and went away to her, whilst I said, "By Allah, thou art right to call me a fool and a pimp!" Then I left his door and went away in sore concern, whereof I feel the trace in my heart to this day; and I never had my desire of her nor ever heard of her more.

ISAAC OF MOSUL AND THE MERCHANT.

(Quoth Ishac ben Ibrahim el Mausili), One day, being weary of assiduous attendance upon the Khalif, I mounted my horse and went forth, at break of day, having a mind to ride out and take my pleasure in the open country, and I said to my servant, "If there come a messenger from the Khalif or another, say that I set out at daybreak, upon a pressing business, and that thou knowest not whither I am gone." So I rode forth alone and went round about the city, till the sun grew hot, when I halted in a street, known as El Herem, and stood my horse under the spacious jutting porch of one of the houses there, to shelter me from the glare of the sun.

I had not stood long, before there came up a black slave, leading an ass with jewelled housings, on which sat a damsel, clad in the richest of clothes, richness can go no farther; and I saw that she was elegantly made, with languorous looks and graceful carriage. I asked one of the passers-by who she was, and he said, "She is a singer." And I fell in love with her at sight, so that I could scarce keep my seat on my horse's back. She entered the house at whose gate I stood; and as I cast about for a device to gain access to her, there came up two comely young men, who sought admission, and the master of the house gave them leave to enter. So they alighted and entered, and I with them, they supposing that the master of the house had invited me; and we sat awhile, till food was brought and we ate. Then they set wine before us, and the damsel came out, with a lute in her hand. She sang and we drank, till I rose to do an occasion. During my absence, the host questioned the two others of me, and they replied that they knew me not; whereupon quoth he, "This fellow is a spunger, but he is well-bred and pleasant; so entreat him fairly." Then I came back and sat down in my place, whilst the damsel sang the following verses to a pleasing air:

Say thou unto the she-gazelle, who yet is no gazelle, And the
     wild heifer, languorous-eyed, who yet no heifer is,
"One, who in dalliance affects the male, no female is, And he
     who is effeminate of step's no male, ywis."

She sang it excellent well, and the company drank and her song pleased them. Then she sang various songs to rare tunes, and amongst the rest one of mine, to the following words:

The pleasant girls have gone and left The homesteads empty and
     bereft
Of their sweet converse, after cheer, All void and ruined by
     Time's theft.

She sang this even better than the first; then she sang other rare songs, old and new, and amongst them, another of mine, with the following words:

To the loved one, who turneth in anger away And vrithdraweth
     himself far apart from thee, say,
"The mischief thou wroughtest, thou wroughtest indeed, For all,
     per-adventure, thou west but in play."

I asked her to repeat the song, that I might correct it for her; whereupon one of the men turned to me and said, "Never saw I a more brazen-faced parasite than thou. Art thou not content with spunging, but thou must meddle, to boot? Verily, in thee is the saying made true, 'A parasite and a meddler.'" I hung down my head for shame and made him no answer, whilst his companion would have restrained him from me; but he would not be restrained. Presently, they rose to pray, but I hung behind a little and taking the lute, tuned it after a particular fashion and stood up to pray with the rest. When we had made an end of prayer, the same man fell again to flouting and reviling me and persisted in his churlishness, whilst I held my peace. Then the damsel took the lute and touching it, knew that it was other than as she had left it and said, "Who hath touched my lute?" Quoth they, "None of us hath touched it." "Nay, by Allah," rejoined she, "some one hath touched it, and he a past master in the craft; for he hath ordered the strings and tuned them after the fashion of one who is right skilled in the art." Quoth I, "It was I tuned it." "Then, God on thee," answered she, "take it and play on it!" So I took it and playing a rare and difficult measure, that came nigh to deaden the live and raise the dead, sang thereto the following verses:

I had a heart, wherewith of yore I lived: 'Twas seared with
     fire and all consumed indeed.
Her love, alack I was not vouchsafed to me; Unto the slave
     'twas not of Heaven decreed.
If what I taste be passion's very food, Then all who love upon
     its like must feed.

When I had finished, there was not one of the company but sprang from his place and sat down before me,[FN#147] saying "God on thee, O our lord, sing us another song." "With all my heart," said I and playing another measure in masterly fashion, sang thereto the following:

O thou whose heart, for fortune's blows, is all consumed and
     sped, Sorrows with whom from every side have taken up
     their stead,
Unlawful unto her, my heart who pierces with her shafts, Is
     that my blood which, breast-bones 'twixt and
     vitals,[FN#148] she hath shed.
'Twas plain, upon the parting day, that her resolve, our loves
     To sunder, unto false suspect must be attributed.
She pours forth blood she had not shed, if passion had not
     been. Will none my murderess ensue and wreak me on her
     head?

When I had made an end of this song, there was not one of them but rose to his feet and threw himself to the ground, for excess of delight. Then I cast the lute from my hand; but they said, "Allah on thee, let us hear another song, so God increase thee of His bounty!" "O folk," replied I, "I will sing you another song and another and another and will tell you who I am. Know that I am Ishac ben Ibrahim el Mausili, and by Allah, I bear myself haughtily to the Khalif, when he seeks me. Ye have today made me hear [abuse from] an unmannerly fellow such as I loathe; and by Allah, I will not speak a word nor sit with you, till ye put yonder quarrelsome churl out from among you!" Quoth the latter's companion to him, "This is what I feared and warned thee against." So they took him by the hand and put him out; and I took the lute and sang over again the songs of my fashion that the damsel had sung. Then I whispered the host that she had taken my heart and that I had no patience to endure from her. Quoth he, "Thou shalt have her and all that pertains to her of clothes and jewels, on one condition." "What is that?" asked I. "It is," answered he, "that thou abide with me a month." "It is well," rejoined I; "I will do this." So I abode with him a whole month, whilst none knew where I was and the Khalif sought me everywhere, but could come by no news of me; and at the end of this time, the merchant delivered to me the damsel, together with all that pertained to her of things of price and an eunuch to attend her.

I brought her to my lodging, feeling as I were lord of the whole world, for stress of delight in her; then rode forthright to El Mamoun. When he saw me, he said, "Out on thee, O Isaac, where hast thou been all this while?" I acquainted him with the story and he said, "Bring me the man at once." So I told him where he dwelt, and he sent and fetched him and questioned him of the case; whereupon he repeated the story and the Khalif said to him, "Thou art a man of a generous mind, and it is just that thou be upheld in thy generosity." Then he ordered him a hundred thousand dirhems and said to me, "O Isaac, bring me the damsel." So I brought her to him, and she sang and delighted him. He was greatly gladdened by her and ordered her fifty thousand dirhems, saying to me, "I appoint her of service every Thursday, when she must come and sing to me from behind the curtain." So, by Allah, this ride of mine was a source of profit both to me and to others.

THE THREE UNFORTUNATE LOVERS.

(Quoth El Utbi[FN#149]), I was sitting one day with a company of men of culture, telling stories of the folk, when the talk turned upon anecdotes of lovers and each of us said his say thereon. Now there was in our company an old man, who remained silent, till we had all spoken and had no more to say, when he said, "Shall I tell you a thing, the like of which you never heard?" "Yes," answered we; and he said, "Know, then, that I had a daughter, who loved a youth, but we knew it not. The youth in question loved a singing-girl, who, in her turn, was enamoured of my daughter. One day, I was present at an assembly, where were also the young man and the girl; when the latter sang the following verses:

Tears are the token by which, for love, Abjection in lovers
     still is shown,
And more by token in one who finds No friend, to whom he may
     make his moan.

'By Allah, thou hast said well, O my lady!' exclaimed the youth. 'Doss thou bid me die?' 'Yes,' answered the girl from behind the curtain, 'if thou be in love.' So he laid his head on a cushion and closed his eyes; and when the cup came round to him, we shook him and found that he was dead. Therewith we all flocked to him, and our joy was troubled and we grieved and broke up forthright. When I came home, my people taxed me with returning before the appointed time, and I told them what had befallen the youth, thinking to surprise them. My daughter heard my words and rising, went into another chamber, whither I followed her and found her lying, with her head on a cushion, as I had told of the young man. I shook her and behold, she was dead. So we laid her out and set forth next morning with her funeral, whilst the friends of the young man carried him out, likewise, to bury him. As we were on the way to the burial-place, we met a third funeral and enquiring whose it was, were told that it was that of the singing-girl, who, hearing of my daughter's death, had done even as she and was dead. So we buried them all three on one day, and this is the rarest story that ever was heard of lovers."

THE LOVERS OF THE BENOU TAI.

Quoth a man of the Benou Temim (cited by Casim ben Adi), I went out one day in search of a stray beast and coming to the waters of the Benou Tai, saw two companies of people, near one another, and those of each company were disputing among themselves. So I watched them and observed, in one of the companies, a young man, wasted with sickness, as he were a worn-out water-skin. As I looked on him, he repeated the following verses:

What ails the fair that she returneth not to me? Is't
     grudgingness in her or inhumanity?
I sickened, and my folk to visit me came all. Why 'mongst the
     visitors wast thou then not to see?
Hadst thou been sick, I would have hastened to thy side; Nor
     menaces nor threats had hindered me from thee.
I miss thee midst the rest, and desolate am I: Thy loss, my
     heart's abode, is grievous unto me.

A damsel in the other company heard his words and hastened towards him. Her people followed her, but she repelled them with blows. Then the youth caught sight of her and ran towards her, whilst his people ran after him and laid hold of him. However, he struggled, till he freed himself from them, and she in like manner loosed herself; and they ran to each other and meeting between the two parties, embraced and fell down dead.

Thereupon there came out an old man from one of the tents and stood over them, weeping sore and exclaiming, "Verily, we are God's and to Him we return!" Then, "May God the Most High have mercy on you both!" said he. "By Allah, though you were not united in your lives, I will at least unite you after death." And he bade lay them out. So they washed them and shrouded them in one shroud and buried them in one grave, after they had prayed over them; nor were there men nor women in the two parties but I saw weeping over them and buffeting their faces. Then I questioned the old man of them, and he said, "She was my daughter and he my brother's son; and love brought them to this pass." "May God amend thee!" exclaimed I. "But why didst thou not marry them to one another?" Quoth he, "I feared reproach and dishonour; and now I am fallen upon both."

THE MAD LOVER.

(Quoth Aboulabbas el Muberred[FN#150]), I set out one day with a company to El Berid on an occasion, and coming to the monastery of Heraclius,[FN#151] we alighted in its shade. Presently a man came out to us and said, "There are madmen in the monastery, and amongst them one who speaketh wisdom; if ye saw him, ye would marvel at his speech." So we arose all and went into the monastery, where we saw a man seated on a leather mat in one of the cells, with bare head and eyes fixed upon the wall. We saluted him, and he returned our greeting, without looking at us; and one said to us, "Repeat some verses to him; for, when he hears verses, he speaks." So I repeated the following verses:

O best of all the race whom Eve gave birth unto, Except for
     thee the world were neither sweet nor bright:
Thou'rt he, whose face if God unveil to any man, Eternity is
     his; his head shall ne'er grow white.[FN#152]

When he heard this, he turned towards us and repeated these lines:

God indeed knows that I am sore afflicted: I suffer so, I
     cannot tell the whole.
I have two souls; one in this place is dwelling; Another
     country holds my second soul.
Meseems the absent one is like the present And wearies under
     the same weight of dole.

Quoth he, "Have I said well or ill?" "Thou hast said well and excellent well," replied we. Then he put out his hand and took a stone, that was by him; whereupon we fled from him, thinking he would throw it at us; but he fell to beating his breast therewith violently and said to us, "Fear not, but draw near and hear somewhat from me and receive it from me." So we came back, and he repeated the following verses:

When they made their beasts of burden kneel as day drew nigh
     and nigher, Then they mounted and the camels bore away my
     heart's desire,—
When my eyes perceived my loved one through the crannied
     prison-wall, Then I cried, with streaming eyelids and a
     heart for love a-fire,
"Turn thou leader of the camels, let me bid my love farewell!"
     For her absence and estrangement, life and hope in me
     expire.
Still I kept my troth and failed not from her love; ah, would I
     knew What she did with that our troth-plight, if she kept
     her faith entire!

Then he looked at me and said, "Dost thou know what she did?" "Yes," answered I, "she is dead; may God the Most High have mercy on her!" At this his face changed and he sprang to his feet and cried out, "How knowest thou she is dead?" "Were she alive," answered I, "she had not left thee thus." "By Allah, thou art right," said he, "and I care not to live after her." Then his nerves quivered and he fell on his face; and we ran up to him and shook him and found him dead, the mercy of God be on him! At this we marvelled and mourned sore for him and laid him out and buried him. When I returned to Baghdad and went in to the Khalif El Mutawekkil, he saw the trace of tears on my face and said to me, "What is this?" So I told him what had passed, and it was grievous to him and he said, "What moved thee to deal thus with him? By Allah, if I thought thou didst this with intent, I would punish thee therefor!" And he mourned for him the rest of the day.

THE APPLES OF PARADISE.

(Quoth Abou Bekr Mohammed ibn el Ambari[FN#153]), I once left Ambar, on a journey to Ammouriyeh, in the land of the Greeks, [FN#154], and alighted midway at the monastery of El Anwar, [FN#155], in a village near Ammouriyeh, where there came out to me the prior of the monastery and superior of the monks, Abdulmesih[FN#156] by name, and brought me into the monastery. There I found forty monks, who entertained me that night with the most liberal hospitality, and I saw among them such abounding piety and diligence in devotion as I never beheld the like of in any others. On the morrow, I took leave of them and went on to Ammouriyeh, where I did my business and returned to Ambar [without again visiting the monastery].

Next year it befell that I made the pilgrimage to Mecca, and as I was compassing the Holy House, behold, I saw Abdulmesih the monk also making the circuit of the Kaabeh, and with him five of his fellows, the monks. When I was certified that it was indeed he, I accosted him, saying, "Art thou not Abdulmesih er Rahib?"[FN#157] "Nay," answered he; "I am Abdallah er Raghib." [FN#158] Therewith I fell to kissing his hoary hairs and weeping; then, taking him by the hand, I led him aside into a corner of the sanctuary and said to him, "Tell me the manner of thy conversion to Islam." "It was a wonder of wonders," answered he; "and befell thus. Know that, not long after thy visit to us, a company of Muslim devotees came to the village, in which is our monastery, and sent a youth to buy them food. He saw, in the market, a Christian damsel selling bread, who was of the fairest of women, and became then and there so passionately enamoured of her, that his senses failed him and he fell on his face in a swoon. When he revived, he returned to his companions and told them what had happened, saying, 'Go ye about your business; I may not go with you.' They blamed him and exhorted him, but he paid no heed to them; so they left him and went on, whilst he entered the village and seated himself at the door of the woman's shop. She asked him what he wanted, and he told her that he was in love with her, whereupon she turned from him; but he abode in his place three days, without tasting food, with his eyes fixed on her face.

When she saw that he departed not from her, she went to her people and acquainted them with her case, and they set the boys of the village on him, who pelted him with stones and bruised his ribs and broke his head; but, for all this, he would not budge. Then the people of the village took counsel together to kill him; but one of them came to me and told me of his condition, and I went out to him and found him lying prostrate on the ground. So I wiped the blood from his face and carried him to the convent, where I dressed his wounds, and he abode with me fourteen days. But, as soon as he could walk, he left the convent and returned to the door of the woman's shop, where he sat gazing on her as before. When she saw him, she came out to him and said, 'By Allah, thou movest me to pity! If thou wilt enter my faith, I will marry thee.' 'God forbid,' answered he, 'that I should put off the faith of the Unity and enter that of Plurality!'[FN#159] Quoth she, 'Come in with me to my house and take thy will of me and go thy ways in peace.' 'Not so,' answered he, 'I will not barter the pious service of twelve years for the lust of a moment.' 'Then depart from me forthright,' said she; and he rejoined, 'My heart will not suffer me to do that;' whereupon she turned her face from him. Presently the boys found him out and began to throw stones at him; and he fell on his face, saying, 'Verily, God is my keeper, who sent down the Book and who protecteth the righteous!' [FN#160] At this juncture, I sallied forth and driving away the boys, lifted his head from the ground and heard him say, 'O my God, unite me with her in Paradise!' Then I took him in my arms, to carry him to the monastery; but he died, before I could reach it, and I dug him a grave without the village and buried him there.

In the middle of that night, the people of the village heard the damsel give a great cry, and she in her bed; so they flocked to her and questioned her of her case. Quoth she, 'As I slept, the Muslim [who ye wot of] came in to me and taking me by the hand, carried me to the gate of Paradise; but the keeper denied me entrance, saying, "It is forbidden to unbelievers." So I embraced Islam at his hands and entering with him, beheld therein palaces and trees, such as I cannot describe to you. Moreover, he brought me to a pavilion of jewels and said to me, "This is my pavilion and thine, nor will I enter it except with thee; but, after five nights, thou shalt be with me therein, if it be the will of God the Most High." Then, putting his hand to a tree that grew at the door of the pavilion, he plucked therefrom two apples and gave them to me, saying, "Eat this and keep the other, that the monks may see it." So I ate one of them and never tasted I aught sweeter than it. Then he took my hand and carried me back to my house; and when I awoke, I found the taste of the apple in my mouth and the other in my hand.' So saying, she brought out the apple, and it shone in the darkness of the night, as it were a sparkling star. So they carried her to the monastery, where she repeated to us her vision and showed us the apple; never saw we its like among all the fruits of the world. Then I took a knife and cut the apple into as many pieces as we were folk in the company; and never knew we aught more delicious than its taste nor sweeter than its scent; but we said, 'Haply this was a devil that appeared to her, to seduce her from her faith.' Then her people took her and went away; but she abstained from eating and drinking till the fifth night, when she rose from her bed and going forth the village to the grave of the young Muslim, threw herself upon it and died.

Her people knew not what was come of her; but, on the morrow, there came to the village two Muslim elders, clad in hair- cloth, and with them two women in like garb, and said, 'O people of the village, with you is a woman of the friends of God,[FN#161] who died a Muslim, and we will take charge of her, instead of you.' So the damsel's family sought her and found her dead on the young Muslim's grave; and they said, 'This our sister died in our faith, and we will take charge of her.' 'Not so,' rejoined the two old men; 'she died a Muslim and we claim her.' And the dispute waxed hot between them, till one of the Muslims said, 'Be this the test of her faith. Let the forty monks of the monastery come all and [essay to] lift her from the grave. If they succeed, then she died a Nazarene; if not, one of us shall come and lift her up, and if she yield to him, she died a Muslim.' The villagers agreed to this and fetched the forty monks, who heartened each other and came to her, to lift her, but could not. Then we tied a great rope about her middle and tugged at it with our might; but the rope broke in sunder, and she stirred nor; and the villagers came and joined their endeavour to ours, but could not move her from her place. At last, when all our devices failed, we said to one of the two old Muslims, 'Come thou and lift her.' So he went up to the grave and covering her with his mantle, said, 'In the name of God the Compassionate, the Merciful, and of the Faith of the Apostle of God, on whom be peace and salvation!' Then he lifted her and taking her in his bosom, betook himself with her to a cave hard by, where they laid her, and the two women came and washed her and shrouded her. Then the two elders bore her to the young Muslim's grave and prayed over her and buried her by his side and went their way.

Now we were witness of all this; and when we were alone with one another, we said, 'Of a verity, the Truth is most worthy to be followed;[FN#162] and indeed it hath been publicly manifested to us, nor is it possible to have a clearer proof of the truth of Islam than that we have seen this day with our eyes.' So I and all the monks embraced Islam and on like wise did the people of the village; and we sent to the people of Mesopotamia for a doctor of the law, to instruct us in the ordinances of Islam and the canons of the Faith. They sent us a pious man, who taught us the rites of devotion and the tenets of the faith and the service of God; and we are now in great good case. To God be the praise and the thanks!"

THE LOVES OF ABOU ISA AND CURRET EL AIN.

(Quoth Amr ben Mesaadeh[FN#163]), Abou Isa, son or Er Reshid and brother to El Mamoun, was enamoured of a girl called Curret el Ain, belonging to Ali ben Hisham,[FN#164] and she also loved him; but he concealed his passion, complaining of it to none neither discovering his secret to any, of his pride and magnanimity; and he had used his utmost endeavour to buy her of her lord, but in vain. At last, when his patience failed him and his passion was sore on him and he was at his wits' end concerning her affair, he went in, one day of state, to El Mamoun, after the folk had retired, and said to him, "O Commander of the Faithful, if thou wilt this day make trial of thy governors,[FN#165] by visiting them unawares, thou wilt the men of worth from those that lack of it and note each one's [due] place, after the measure of his faculties." (But he purposed, in saying this, to win to sit with Curret el Ain in her lord's house.) El Mamoun approved his proposal and bade make ready a barge, called the Flyer, in which he embarked, with his brother and a party of his chief officers. The first house he visited was that of Hemid et Tawil of Tous, whom he found seated on a mat and before him singers and players, with lutes and hautboys and other instruments of music in their hands. El Mamoun sat with him awhile, and presently he set before him dishes of nothing but flesh-meat, with no birds among them. The Khalif would not taste thereof and Abou Isa said to him, "O Commander of the Faithful, we have taken the owner of this place unawares, and he knew not of thy coming; but now let us go to another place, that is prepared and fitted for thee."

So the Khalif arose and betook himself, with his brother and his suite, to the abode of Ali ben Hisham, who, on hearing of their approach, came out and received them after the goodliest fashion, and kissed the earth before El Mamoun. Then he brought them into his palace and opened to them a saloon, than which never saw eyes a goodlier. Its floors and walls and columns were of vari-coloured marble, adorned with Greek paintings: it was spread with Indian matting, on which were carpets and divans of Bassora make, fitted to the length and breadth of the room. The Khalif sat awhile, examining the house and its roof and walls, then said, "Give us to eat." So they brought him forthwith nigh upon a hundred dishes of fowls, besides other birds and brewises and fricassees and marinades. When he had eaten, he said, "Give us to drink, O Ali;" and the latter set before him raisin-wine, boiled with fruits and spices, in vessels of gold and silver and crystal, served by boys like moons, clad in garments of Alexandrian cloth of gold and bearing on their breasts flagons of crystal, full of rose-water mingled with musk. El Mamoun marvelled exceedingly at all this and said, "Harkye, Aboulhusn!"[FN#166] Whereupon Ali sprang to the carpet [on which the Khalif was seated] and kissing it, said, "At thy service, O Commander of the Faithful!" and stood before him. Quoth El Mamoun, "Let us hear some pleasant songs." "I hear and obey, O Commander of the Faithful," replied Ali and said to one of his servants, "Fetch the singing-women."

So he went out and returned in a moment, followed by ten eunuchs, bearing ten golden stools, which they set down; and these in their turn were followed by ten damsels, as they were shining full moons or flowerful gardens, clad in black brocade, with crowns of gold on their heads. They sat down on the stools and sang various songs. Then El Mamoun looked at one of them and captivated by her elegance and the beauty of her aspect, said to her, "What is thy name, O damsel?" "My name is Sejahi, O Commander of the Faithful," answered she; and he said, "Sing to us, O Sejahi!" So she took the lute and playing a lively measure, sang the following verses:

Right stealthily, for fearfulness, I fare, the weakling's gait,
     Who sees unto the watering-place two lion-whelps draw
     near,
With cloak, instead of sword, begirt and bosom love-distraught
     And heart for eyes of enemies and spies fulfilled of fear,
Till in to one at last I come, a loveling delicate, Like to a
     desert antelope, that's lost its younglings dear.

"Well done, O damsel!" said the Khalif. "Whose is this song?" "The words are by Amr ben Madi Kerib er Zubeidi,"[FN#167] answered she, "and the air is Mabid's."[FN#168] Then the Khalif and Ali and Abou Isa drank and the damsels went away and were succeeded by other ten, clad in flowered silk of Yemen, brocaded with gold, who sat down on the chairs and sang various songs. The Khalif looked at one of them, who was like a wild cow of the desert, and said to her, "What is thy name, O damsel?" "My name is Zebiyeh, O Commander of the Faithful," answered she. "Sing to us, O Zebiyeh," said he; so she warbled some roulades and sang the following verses:

Houris, noble ladies, that reck not of disquiet, Like antelopes
     of Mecca, forbidden to be slain;
Of their soft speech, they're taken for courtezans; but Islam
     Still makes them from unseemliness and lewdness to
     refrain.

When she had finished, "Bravo!" cried the Khalif. "Whose is this song?" "The words are by Jerir,"[FN#169] answered she, "and the air by Suraij." Then the Khalif and his company drank, whilst the girls went away and there came yet another ten, as they were rubies, bareheaded and clad in red brocade, gold inwoven and broidered with pearls and jewels, who sat down on the stools and sang various airs. The Khalif looked at one of them, who was like the sun of the day, and said to her, "What is thy name?" "O Commander of the Faithful," answered she, "my name is Fatin." "Sing to us, O Fatin," quoth he. So she played a lively measure and sang the following verses:

Vouchsafe me of thy grace; 'tis time to yield consent: Enough
     have I endured of absence and lament.
Thou'rt he whose face unites all charms, on whose account My
     patience have I lost, for very languishment.
I've spent my life for love of thee; ah, would to God I might
     receive return for that which I have spent!

"Bravo, O Fatin!" exclaimed the Khalif, when she had finished. "Whose song is that?" "The words are by Adi ben Zeid," answered she, "and the tune is an old one." Then they drank, whilst the damsels retired and were succeeded by other ten, as they were sparkling stars, clad in flowered silk, embroidered with gold, and girt with jewelled zones. They sat down and sang various airs; and the Khalif said to one of them, who was like a willow-wand, "What is thy name, O damsel!" "My name is Reshaa, O Commander of the Faithful," answered she. "Sing to us, O Reshaa," said he. So she played a lively measure and sang the following verses:

There's a houri healing passion [with her kiss], Like a sapling
     or a wild gazelle at gaze.
Wine I quaff unto the vision of her cheeks[FN#170] And dispute
     the goblet with her, till she sways.
Then she lies and sleeps the night long in my arms, And I say,
     "This is the wish of all my days."

"Well done, O damsel!" said the Khalif. "More." So she rose and kissing the ground before him, sang the following verse:

She came out to gaze on the bridal at leisure, In a tunic with
     ambergris smeared, worth a treasure.

The Khalif was much pleased with this verse, which when Reshaa saw, she repeated it several times. Then said El Mamoun, "Bring up the barge," being minded to embark and depart: but Ali said to him, "O Commander of the Faithful, I have a slave-girl, whom I bought for ten thousand dinars; she hath taken my whole heart, and I would fain show her to the Commander of the Faithful. If she please him and he will accept of her, she is his: and if not, let him hear something from her." "Bring her to me," said the Khalif; and there came forth a damsel, as she were a willow-wand, with heart-seducing eyes and eyebrows like a double bow. On her head she wore a crown of red gold, set with pearls and jewels, under which was a fillet, wrought in letters of chrysolite with the following words:

Behold, a Jinniyeh this is; and Jinn hath she also, I trow, Who teach her men's hearts to transfix, by means of a stringless bow.

She walked, with a gait like that of a fleeing gazelle, till she came to a chair, on which she seated herself. The Khalif marvelled at her beauty and grace; but when Abou Isa saw her, his colour changed and he was in ill case. "O Abou Isa," said the Khalif, "what ails thee, to change colour thus?" "O Commander of the Faithful," answered he, "it is because of pain that seizes me bytimes." "Hast thou known yonder damsel before to-day?" asked El Mamoun. "Yes, O Commander of the Faithful," answered he. "Can the moon be hidden?" Then said El Mamoun to her, "What is thy name, O damsel?" "My name is Curret el Ain, O Commander of the Faithful," replied she; and he said, "Sing to us, O Curret el Ain." So she sang the following verses:

The loved ones passed from thee in middle midnight's shade And
     fared forth in the dawn, with the pilgrims' cavalcade.
The tents of pride they pitched round their pavilions And
     veiled themselves about with hangings of brocade.

Quoth the Khalif, "Bravo, O Curret el Ain! Whose song is that?" "The words are by Dibil el Khuzai," answered she, "and the air by Zourzour es Seghir." Abou Isa looked at her and his tears choked him; so that the company marvelled at him. Then she turned to El Mamoun and said to him, "O Commander of the Faithful, wilt thou give me leave to change the words?" "Sing what thou wilt," answered the Khalif. So she played a lively measure and sang the following verses:

If thou please me and he please thee in public, look thou hide
     And keep in secret straiter watch o'er love, lest ill
     betide.
And disregard and put away the tales of slanderers; For seldom
     seeks the sland'rer aught but lovers to divide.
They say that when a lover's near, he wearies of his love And
     that by absence passion's cured. 'Tis false; for I have
     tried
Both remedies, but am not cured of that which is with me,
     Withal that nearness easier is than distance to abide.
Yet nearness of abode, forsooth, may nowise profit thee, An If
     the grace of him thou lov'st be unto thee denied.

When she finished, Abou Isa said, "O Commander of the Faithful, we will be at peace, though we be dishonoured. Dost thou give me leave to reply to her?" "Yes," answered the Khalif. "Say what thou wilt to her." So he swallowed his tears and sang these verses:

I held my peace nor said, "I am in love;" and eke The passion
     that I felt even from my heart hid I:
And natheless, if my eyes do manifest my love, It is because
     they are the shining moon anigh.

Then Curret el Ain took the lute and rejoined with the following:

If what thou dost pretend were very truth, Thou woulst not with
     mere wishing rest content,
Nor couldst endure to live without a girl, In charms and beauty
     wonder excellent.
But there is nought in that thou dost avouch, Save only idle
     talk and compliment.

When Abou Isa heard this, he fell a-weeping and lamenting and discovered the trouble and anguish of his soul. Then he raised his eyes to her and sighing, repeated the following:

Under my wede there is a wasted body And in my soul an all-
     absorbing thought.
I have a heart, whose suffering is eternal, and eyes with tears
     like torrents ever fraught.
When a wise man meets me, he rebukes me, Chiding the love that
     thou in me hath wrought.
Lord, I've no strength all this my dole to suffer; Prithee,
     come Death or quick relief be brought!

When he had ended, Ali ben Hisham sprang up and kissing his feet, said, "O my lord, God hath heard thy prayer and answered thy supplication, and consenteth to thy taking her with all her gear, so the Commander of the Faithful have no mind to her." "Had we a mind to her," answered the Khalif, "we would prefer Abou Isa before ourselves and help him to his desire." So saying, he rose and embarking, went away, whilst Abou Isa tarried for Curret al Ain, whom he took and carried to his own house, with a breast dilated for gladness. See then the generosity of Ali ben Hisham.

EL AMIN BEN ER RESHID AND HIS UNCLE IBRAHIM BEN EL MEHDI.

El Amin,[FN#171] son of Er Reshid, once entered the house of his uncle Ibrahim ben el Mehdi and saw there a slave-girl playing upon the lute. She was one of the fairest of women, and his heart inclined to her. Ibrahim, seeing how it was with him, sent the girl to him, with rich apparel and precious jewels. When he saw her, he thought that his uncle had lain with her; so he was loath to have to do with her, because of this, and sent her back to Ibrahim, accepting the present that came with her. Ibrahim learnt the reason of this from one of El Amin's servants; so he took a shift of flowered silk and let work upon his skirt, in letters of gold, the following lines:

By Him to whom all fronts do bow, of that which is Beneath her
     skirt, I swear, I'm ignorant outright;
Nor have I had in aught to meddle with her mouth, Except it
     were by way of hearing and of sight.

Then he clad her in the shift and giving her a lute sent her once more to his nephew. When she came into the latter's presence, she kissed the earth before him and tuning the lute, sang thereto the following verses:

By returning the gift, thou showest what's hid in thy breast,
     And thine aversion to me is made manifest.
As thou bear malice for aught that hath been,—forgive The
     past, for the Khalifate's sake, and let it rest.

When she had made an end of her song, El Amin looked at her and reading that which was wrought upon her skirt, could not control himself, but drew near unto her and kissed her and appointed her a separate lodging in his palace. Moreover, he thanked his uncle for this and bestowed on him the government of Er Reï.[FN#172]

EL FETH BEN KHACAN AND THE KHALIF EL MUTAWEKKIL.

The Khalid El Mutawekkil[FN#173] was once again taking medicine, and folk sent him all manner of presents and rarities. Amongst others, El Feth ben Khacan[FN#174] sent him a virgin slave, high-bosomed, of the fairest of women of her time, and with her a vase of crystal, containing red wine, and a goblet of red gold, whereon were graven in black the following verses:

When th' Imam's made an end of taking medicine And health and
     strength ensue to him thereon, in fine,
There's no medicament befits him but to drink, From out this
     cup, a draught of this decocted wine.
And break the seal[FN#175] reserved to him, for this, indeed,
     Right salutary is, hard after medicine.

Now the physician Youhenna[FN#176] was with the Khalif, when the damsel entered; and when he read the above verses, he smiled and said, 'By Allah, O Commander of the Faithful, Feth is better versed than I in the art of medicine: so let not the Commander of the Faithful gainsay his prescription.' Accordingly, the Khalif followed El Feth's prescription and was made whole by the blessing of God.

THE MAN'S DISPUTE WITH THE LEARNED WOMAN OF THE RELATIVE EXCELLENCE OF THE MALE AND THE FEMALE.

(Quoth a certain man of learning) I never saw a woman sharper- witted, more intelligent, better furnished in learning, more excellent of faculties or more pleasant of ingredients than a female preacher of the people of Baghdad, by name Sitt el Meshayikh.[FN#177] It chanced that she came to the city of Hemah in the year [of the Hegira] 561[FN#178] and there delivered salutary exhortations to the folk from the pulpits. Now there used to visit her house a number of students of divinity and [other] persons of learning and culture, who would argue with her upon questions of theology and discuss controversial points with her. I went to her one day, with a friend of mine, a man of education; and when we had taken our seats, she set before us a dish of fruit and seated herself behind a curtain. Now she had a [young] brother, a handsome youth, who stood by us, to serve us.

When we had eaten, we fell to disputing upon points of divinity, and I propounded to her a theological question, bearing upon a difference between the Imams.[FN#179] She proceeded to speak in answer, whilst I listened; but my friend fell the while to looking upon her brother's face and considering his charms, without paying any heed to what she said. Now she was watching him from behind the curtain; so, when she had made an end of her exposition, she turned to him and said, "Meseems thou art of those that give men the preference over women!" "Assuredly," answered he. "And why so?" asked she. "Because," replied he, "God hath preferred the male over the female; and I love that which excels and mislike that which is excelled." She laughed and said, "Wilt thou deal fairly with me in argument, if I argue the matter with thee?" "I will," answered he. Then said she, "What is the evidence of the superiority of the male to the female?" "It is of two kinds," answered he, "that which is founded on authority and that which is founded on reason. The authoritative part derives from the Koran and the Sunneh [Traditions of the Prophet]. As for the former, quoth God the Most High, 'Men stand above women, in that God hath given these the preference over those;'[FN#180] and again, 'If there be not two men, then [call] one man and two women;' [FN#181] and again, when treating of the law of inheritance, '[If there be brothers and sisters,] let each male have the like of the portion of two females.'[FN#182] Thus God, blessed and exalted be He, hath in these places preferred the male over the female and teaches that a woman is as the half of a man, for that he is worthier than she. As for the Sunneh, is it not reported of the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve) that he appointed the blood-wit for a woman to be half that of a man? As for the evidence of reason, the male is the agent and the female the patient."

"Thou hast said well, O my lord," rejoined she; "but, by Allah, thou hast proved my contention with thine own lips and hast advanced arguments that tell against thee, and not for thee. Thus: God (blessed and exalted be He) preferred the male above the female, solely because of the quality of masculinity; and in this, there is no difference between us. Now this quality [of masculinity] is common to the child, the boy, the youth, the adult and the graybeard; nor is there any distinction between them in this. Since, then, the superior excellence of man enures to him solely by virtue of the quality of masculinity, it behoves that thy heart incline to the graybeard and thy soul delight in him, equally with the boy, seeing that there is no distinction between them, in point of masculinity. But the difference between thee and me turns upon the qualities that are sought as constituting excellence of intercourse and delight of usance; and thou hast adduced no proof of the superiority of the male over the female in this."

"O my lady," answered he, "knowest thou not that which is proper to the boy of symmetry of shape and rosy cheeks and pleasant smile and sweetness of speech? Boys are, in these respects, superior to women; and the proof of this is what is reported of the Prophet, that he said, 'Stay not thy gaze upon the beardless boys, for in them is the similitude[FN#183] of the black-eyed girls of Paradise.' Nor indeed is the superiority of the boy over the girl hidden to any, and how well saith Abou Nuwas:

The least of his virtues it is that thou'rt free From uncleanness with him nor with child can he be.

And what another poet says:

Quoth th' Iman Abou Nuwas, past-master sure was he In every
     canon of debauch and jolly knavery,
"O ye that love the downy cheeks of younglings, take your fill
     Of a delight, in Paradise that will not founden be."

So if one enlarge in praise of a girl and wish to enhance her value by the mention of her charms, he likens her to a boy, because of the illustrious qualities that belong to the latter, even as saith the poet:

Boylike of buttocks, to and fro, in amorous dalliance, She sways as sway the nodding canes that in the north wind dance.

If boys, then, were not superior to girls, why should the latter be likened to them? And know also, may God the Most High preserve thee, that a boy is easy to be led, adapting himself to the wish, pleasant of commerce and manners, inclining to assent rather than difference, especially when the down on his face creeps lightly and the hair darkens on his lips and the vermilion of early youth runs in his cheeks, so that he is like the full moon; and how goodly is the saying of Abou Temmam: [FN#184]

"The whiskers on his cheek appear;" the slanderers said to me;
     Quoth I, "That's none of his defect; so give me no more
     prate."
What time he came of age to bear buttocks that here and there
     Pulled him and over beads of pearl his lips' hair darkened
     late
And eke the rose a solemn oath, full fast and binding, swore
     Its ruddy marvels from his cheek should never separate,
I with my eyelids spoke to him, without the need of speech, And
     for reply thereto was what his eyebrows answered straight.
His goodliness still goodlier is than that thou knewst of yore,
     And the hair guardeth him from those his charms would
     violate.
Brighter and sweeter are his charms, now on his cheek the down
     Shows and the hair upon his lips grows dark and delicate;
And those who chide me for the love of him, when they take up
     Their parable of him and me, say evermore, "His mate."

And quoth El Heriri[FN#185] and saith well:

My censors say, "What is this love and doting upon him? Seest
     not the hair upon his cheeks that sprouts? Where is thy
     wit?"
Quoth I, "By Allah, an ye chide at me, I rede you note The
     exposition of the truth that in his eyes is writ.
But for the blackness of the down, that veils his chin and
     cheeks, Upon the brightness of his face no mortal gaze
     might sit.
A man who sojourns in a land, wherein no herbage is, Whenas the
     very Spring arrives, shall he depart from it?"

And quoth another:

"He is consoled," say the censors of me; but, by heaven, they
     lie! For solace and comfort come hardly to those for
     longing that sigh.
When the rose of his cheek stood blooming alone, I was not
     consoled; So how should I now find solace, that basil has
     sprung thereby?

And again:

A slender one, whose glances and the down upon his cheeks Each
     other, in the slaying of folk, abet and aid.
A sabre of narcissus[FN#186] withal, he sheddeth blood, The
     hangers[FN#187] of its scabbard of very myrtle made.

And again:

Not with his wine I'm drunken, but with his tresses bright,
     That make all creatures drunken, yea, all beneath the sky.
Each of his charms doth envy the others; ay, and each To be the
     down so silky upon his cheek doth sigh.

These are the excellences of the boy, that women do not possess, and these suffice and more to give boys the preference in grace and glory over women."

"God give thee health!" cried she. "Verily, thou hast imposed the discussion upon thyself; and thou hast spoken and hast not stinted and hast adduced these arguments, in support of thy contention. But now is the truth made manifest;[FN#188] so swerve thou not from the path thereof; and if thou be not content with a summary of proof, I will set it out to thee in detail. God on thee, where is the boy beside the girl and who shall liken the kid to the wild cow? The girl is soft of speech, fair of shape, like a stalk of sweet basil, with teeth like chamomile-petals and hair like halters. Her cheeks are like blood-red anemones and her face like an apple; she hath lips like wine and breasts like double pomegranates and a shape flexile as a willow-wand. Her body is rounded and well-formed: she hath a nose like the point of a shining sword and a forehead brilliant with whiteness and joined eyebrows and black and melting eyes. If she speak, fresh pearls are scattered from her mouth and all hearts are ravished by the daintiness of her charms; when she smiles, thou wouldst think the moon shone out from between her lips and when she gazes, swords flash from her eyes. In her all beauties have their term, and she is the centre of attraction of traveller and stay-at-home. She hath two red lips softer than cream and sweeter of taste than honey, and a bosom, as it were a way between two hills, wherein are a pair of breasts like globes of ivory; likewise, a smooth belly, soft of flanks as palm-flowers[FN#189] and creased with folds and dimples that overlap one another, and luxuriant thighs, like columns of pearl, and buttocks, that beat together like seas of crystal or mountains of light, and two slender feet and hands like ingot of virgin gold. So, O wretched fellow, where are mortal men besides the Jinn? Knowest thou not that mighty kings and captains and noble princes still submit themselves humbly to women and depend on them for delight? Verily, they [women] say, 'We rule over [all] necks and captivate [all] hearts.' How many a rich man have they not made poor, how many a powerful one have they not humbled and how many a noble have they not reduced to servitude! Indeed, they seduce the learned and bring the pious to shame and make poor the rich and plunge the favoured of fortune into misery. Yet, for all this, the wise but redouble in love and honour of them, nor do they count this oppression or dishonour. How many a man for them hath transgressed against his Lord and called down on himself the wrath of his father and mother! And all this because of the preponderance of the love of them over hearts. Knowest thou not, O wretched fellow, that for them are palaces built and slave-girls bought, and over them curtains are let down, that for them do tears flow and for them armies levied and pleasure- houses raised up and riches gathered and heads smitten off? And indeed he spoke sooth who said, 'The world is a commentary [FN#190] upon women.'

As for thy citation from the Holy Traditions, it is an argument against thee and not for thee; for the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve) compares boys to the houris of Paradise. Now, without doubt, the subject of comparison is more worthy than the object compared with it; so, except women be the worthier and the goodlier, wherefore should other than they be likened to them? As for thy saying that girls are likened to boys, it is not so, but the contrary: boys are likened to girls; for folk say, 'Yonder boy is like a girl.' As for that thou quotest from the poets, the verses in question were the product of an unnatural complexion in this respect; and as for the confirmed sodomists and debauchees, that sin against religion, whom God hath condemned in His Holy Book, wherein He denounceth their filthy practices, saying, 'Do ye betake you to males from the four corners of the world and forsake that which your Lord hath created for you of your wives? Nay, but ye are a froward folk.'[FN#191] These it is that liken girls to boys, of their exceeding profligacy and frowardness and inclination to follow the devil and their own lusts, so that they say, 'She is apt for two men;' and these are all wanderers from the path of right. Quoth their chief Abou Nuwas:

A slender one, boyish of waist and of wit, For wencher as well as for sodomite fit.

As for what thou sayest of a boy's whiskers and moustaches and how they add to his beauty and grace, by Allah, thou wanderest from the right path and sayest that which is other than the truth; for whiskers change the charms of the comely into ugliness; even as saith the poet:

The whiskers, that sprout on the cheek of the wight, His lovers
     avenge, if he 've done them unright.
I see not on 's face what is like unto smoke, Except that his
     curls are as coals to the sight.
If the most of his paper[FN#192] thus blackened be, where Is
     there room, deemest thou, for the pen to indite?
If any prefer him another above, 'Tis ignorance makes them thus
     turn from the light.

Glory be to God", continued she, "how is it hidden from thee that the perfection of delight is in women and that abiding pleasure is not to be found but with them? Seeing that God (blessed and exalted be He) hath promised His prophets and saints black-eyed damsels in Paradise and hath appointed them for a recompense of their pious works: and had God the Most High known that the supreme delight was in the possession of other than women, He had rewarded them therewith and promised it to them. And quoth he whom God bless and preserve, 'The things in which I most delight of [the things of] your world are three: women and perfume and the solace of my eyes in prayer.' Verily, God hath appointed boys to serve His prophets and saints in Paradise, because Paradise is the abode of delight and pleasance, which could not be complete without the service of boys; but, as to the use of them for aught but service, it is sin and corruption. How well saith the poet:

Men's turning unto boys is very frowardness; Who noble[FN#193] women loves is noble[FN#194] none the less. What difference 'twixt the lewd and him whose bedfellow A houri is, for looks a very sorceress. He rises from her couch and she hath given him scent; He perfumes all the house therewith and each recess. No boy, indeed, is worth to be compared with her: Shall aloes evened be with what not filthiness?"

Then said she, "O folk, ye have made me overpass the bounds of modesty and the province of free-born women and indulge in idle talk and freedoms of speech, that beseem not people of learning. But the breasts of the noble are the tombs of secrets, and conversations of this kind are in confidence. Moreover, actions are according to intents, and I ask pardon of God for myself and you and all Muslims, seeing that He is forgiving and merciful."

With this she held her peace and thereafter would answer us of nought; so we went our way, rejoicing in that we had profited by her discourses and sorrowing to part from her.

ABOU SUWEID AND THE HANDSOME OLD WOMAN.

(Quoth Abou Suweid), I entered a garden one day, I and a company of my friends, to buy somewhat of fruit; and we saw, in a corner of the place, an old woman, who was bright of face, but her hair was white, and she was combing it with a comb of ivory. We stopped before her, but she paid no heed to us neither veiled her face So I said to her' "O old woman, wert thou to dye thy hair black, thou wouldst be handsomer than a girl. What hinders thee from this?" She raised her head and looking at me with great eyes, recited the following verses:

That which the years had dyed, I dyed erewhen but, sooth to
     tell, My dye endureth not, whilst that of Time's
     perdurable
Clad in the raiment of my youth and beauty, of old days,
     Proudly I walked, and back and front, men had with me to
     mell

"By Allah," cried I, "bravo to thee for an old woman! How sincere art thou in thy yearning remembrance of sin and how false in thy presence of repentance from for bidden things!"

THE AMIR ALI BEN TAHIR AND THE GIRL MOUNIS.

There was once shown to the Amir Ali ben Mohammed ben Abdallah ben Tahir[FN#195] a slave-girl, who was excellently handsome and well-bred and an accomplished poetess; and he asked her of her name. 'May God advance the Amir,' replied she, 'my name is Mounis.' Now he knew this before; so he bowed his head awhile, then raising his eyes to her, recited the following verse:

What dost thou say of one, on whom sickness and pain have wrought, For love and longing after thee, till he is grown distraught?

'God exalt the Amir!' answered she and recited this verse in reply:

An if we saw a lover true, on whom the pangs of love Were sore,
     we would to him vouchsafe the favours that he sought.

Her reply pleased him; so he bought her for threescore and ten thousand dirhems and begat on her Obeidallah teen Mohammed, after police-magistrate [at Baghdad].

THE WOMAN WHO HAD A BOY AND THE OTHER WHO HAD A MAN TO LOVER.

(Quoth Abou el Ainaä[FN#196]), There were in our street two women, one of whom had to lover a man and the other a beardless boy, and they foregathered one night on the roof of a house, not knowing that I was within hearing. Quoth one to the other, "O my sister, how canst thou brook the harshness of thy lover's beard, as it falls on thy breast, when he kisses thee, and his moustaches rub thy cheek and lips?" "Silly wench that thou art," replied the other, "what adorns the tree but its leaves and the cucumber but its bloom? Didst ever see aught uglier than a scald-head, with his beard plucked out? Knowest thou not that the beard is to men as the side-locks to women; and what is the difference between the chin and the cheek? Knowest thou not that God (blessed and exalted be He) hath created an angel in heaven, who saith, 'Glory be to Him who adorneth men with beards and women with tresses?' So, were not the beard even as the tresses in comeliness, it had not been coupled with them, O silly woman! How shall I underlie a boy, who will be hasty with me in emission and forestall me in flaccescence, and leave a man, who, when he takes breath, clips close and when he enters, goes leisurely, and when he has done, repeats, and when he pushes, pushes hard, and as often as he withdraws, returns?" The other was edified by her speech and said, "I forswear my lover by the Lord of the Kaabeh!"

THE HAUNTED HOUSE IN BAGHDAD.

There lived once, in the city of Cairo, a merchant by name Hassan the Jeweller of Baghdad, who had great store of wealth in money and jewels and lands and houses beyond count. God had blessed him with a son of perfect beauty and elegance, rosy-cheeked, fair of face and well-shaped, whom he named Ali of Cairo and taught the Koran and science and elocution and the other branches of polite letters, till he became proficient in all manner of knowledge and was under his father's hand in trade. After awhile, Hassan fell sick and his sickness increased upon him, till he made sure of death and calling his son to him, said, 'O my son, verily this world passeth away; but the next endureth for ever. Every soul must taste of death; and now, O my son, my last hour is at hand and I desire to lay on thee an injunction, which if thou observe, thou shalt abide in peace and prosperity, till thou meet God the Most High; but if thou follow it not, there shall befall thee weariness galore and thou wilt repent of having transgressed my admonitions.' 'O my father,' replied Ali, 'how shall I do other than hearken to thee and do after thine enjoinder, seeing that I am bounden by the law of God to obey thee and give ear to thy word?' 'O my son,' rejoined his father, 'I leave thee lands and houses and goods and wealth past count; wert thou each day to spend thereof five hundred dinars, thou wouldst miss nought of it. But, O my son, look that thou live in the fear of God and follow His Chosen One (whom may He bless and preserve) in what he is reported to have enjoined and forbidden in his traditions. Be thou assiduous in good works and the practice of beneficence and in consorting with men of worth and piety and learning; and look that thou have a care for the poor and needy and shun avarice and meanness and the converse of the wicked or those of doubtful character. Look kindly upon thy servants and family, and also upon thy wife, for she is of the daughters of the notables and is with child by thee; belike God will vouchsafe thee virtuous offspring by her.' And he went on to exhort him thus, weeping and saying, 'O my son, I beseech God the Bountiful, the Lord of the Empyrean, to deliver thee from all straits that may betide thee and grant thee His speedy relief!'

His son wept sore and said, 'O my father, I am consumed by thy words, for they are as the words of one that saith farewell.' 'Yes, O my son,' replied the merchant, 'I am ware of my condition: forget thou not my enjoinder.' Then he fell to repeating the professions of the Faith and reciting [verses of the Koran], until the appointed hour arrived, when he said, 'Draw near unto me, O my son.' So Ali drew near and he kissed him; then he sighed and his soul departed his body and he went to the mercy of God the Most High. Therewith great grief fell upon Ali; the noise of lamentation arose in his house and his father's friends flocked to him. Then he betook himself to preparing him for burial and made him a splendid funeral. They bore him to the place of prayer and prayed over him, then to the cemetery, where they buried him and recited over him what was fitting of the Koran; after which they returned to the house and condoled with the dead man's son and went each his own way. Moreover, Ali prayed the Friday prayers for his father and let make recitations of the whole Koran for the [accustomed] space of forty days, during which time he abode in the house and went not forth, save to the place of prayer; and every Friday he visited his father's tomb.

He ceased not from his prayers and devotions, till, at last, his fellows of the sons of the merchants came in to him one day and saluting him, said, 'How long wilt thou keep up this thy mourning and neglect thy business and the company of thy friends? Verily, this is a fashion that will bring thee weariness, and thy body will suffer greatly for it.' Now, when they came in to him, Iblis the accursed was with them, prompting them, and they went on to press him to accompany them to the bazaar, whilst Iblis incited him to consent to them, till he yielded and went forth the house with them, that the will of God (blessed and exalted be He) might be fulfilled. 'Mount thy mule,' quoth they, 'and ride with us to such a garden, that we may divert us there and that thy grief and melancholy may depart from thee.' So he mounted and taking his slave, went with them to the garden in question, where they entered, and one of them went and making ready the morning- meal, brought it to them there. So they ate and made merry and sat, talking, till the end of the day, when they mounted and returned each to his own lodging, where they passed the night. On the morrow, they said to Ali, 'Come with us.' 'Whither?' asked he, and they answered, 'To such a garden; for it is finer than the first and more pleasant.' So he went with them to the garden, and one of them, going away, made ready the morning-meal and brought it to them, together with strong wine; and Ali said, 'What is this?' Quoth they, 'This is what dispels grief and unveils gladness.' And they went on to commend it to him, till they prevailed upon him and he drank with them. Then they sat, drinking and talking, till the end of the day, when each returned home.

As for Ali, he was giddy with wine and went in, in this plight, to his wife, who said to him, 'What ails thee?' Quoth he, 'We were making merry to-day, when one of my companions brought us liquor; so my friends drank and I with them, and this giddiness came upon me.' 'O my lord,' said she, 'hast thou forgotten thy fathers injunction and done that from which he forbade thee, in consorting with lewd folk?' 'These are of the sons of the merchants,' answered he; 'they are no lewd folk, only lovers of mirth and good cheer.' And he continued to lead this life with his friends, day after day, going from place to place and feasting and drinking with them, till they said to him, 'Our turns are ended, and now it is thy turn.' 'Welcome and fair welcome!' answered he; so, on the morrow, he made ready all that the case called for of meat and drink, double what they had provided, and taking cooks and tent-pitchers and coffee- makers, repaired with the others to Er Rauzeh[FN#197] and the Nilometer, where they abode a whole month, eating and drinking and hearing music and making merry. At the end of the month, Ali found that he had spent a great sum of money; but Satan the Accursed deluded him and said to him, 'Though thou shouldst spend every day a like sum, yet would not thy wealth fail.' So he took no account of expense and continued this way of life three years, whilst his wife remonstrated with him and reminded him of his father's injunctions; but he hearkened not to her, till he had spent all his ready money, when he fell to selling his jewels and spending their price, till they were all gone. Then he sold his houses and lands and farms and gardens, one after another, till they were all gone and he had nothing left but the house in which he lived. So he tore out the marble and wood-work and sold it and spent of its price, till he had made an end of this also, when he bethought himself and finding that he had nothing left to spend, sold the house itself and spent the purchase-money.

Presently, the man who had bought the house came to him and said, 'Look thyself out a lodging, for I have need of my house.' So he bethought himself and considering that he had nothing requiring a house, except his wife, who had borne him a son and daughter,—for he had not a servant left,—hired a room in one of the mean lodging houses and there took up his abode, after having lived in honour and luxury, with many servants and much wealth, and came to lack of one day's bread. Quoth his wife, 'I warned thee of this and exhorted thee to obey thy father's injunction, and thou wouldst not hearken to me; but there is no power and no virtue save in God the Most High, the Supreme! Whence shall the little ones eat? Arise, go round to thy friends, the sons of the merchants: it may be they will give thee somewhat on which we may live this day.' So he went the round of his friends, one by one; but they all hid their faces from him and gave him nothing but injurious and revolting words; and he returned to his wife and said to her, 'They have given me nothing.' Thereupon she went out to beg of her neighbours wherewithal to sustain themselves and came to a woman, whom she had known in former days. When she came in to her and she saw her plight, she rose and receiving her kindly, wept and said, 'What hath befallen thee?' So she told her of her husband's conduct, and the other said, 'Welcome and fair welcome! Whatever thou needest, seek it of me, without price.' 'May God abundantly requite thee!' answered she. Then her friend gave her as much victual as would suffice herself and her family a whole month, and she took it and returned to her lodging. When her husband saw her, he wept and said, 'Whence hadst thou that?' 'I got it of such a woman,' answered she; 'for, when I told her what had befallen us, she failed me not in aught, but said, "Seek of me all thou needest."' 'Since thou hast this,' rejoined her husband, 'I will betake myself to a place I have in my mind; peradventure God the Most High will bring us relief.'

So saying, he took leave of her and kissing the children, went out, not knowing whither he should go, and walked on till he came to Boulac,[FN#198] where he saw a ship about to sail for Damietta. Here he met a man, between whom and his father there had been friendship; and he saluted him and said to him, 'Whither away?' 'To Damietta,' replied Ali; 'I have friends there, whom I would fain enquire after and visit and return.' The man took him home and entreated him hospitably, then, furnishing him with victual [for the voyage] and giving him somewhat of money, embarked him on board the vessel bound for Damietta. When they reached that place, Ali landed, not knowing where to go, but, as he was walking along, a merchant saw him and had pity on him. So he carried him to his house, where he abode awhile, till he said in himself, 'How long shall this sojourning in other folks' houses last?' Then he left the merchant's house and went down to the quay, where he saw a ship ready to sail for Syria. His host provided him with victual and embarked him in the ship; and it set sail and arrived, in due course, at the coast of Syria, where he landed and journeyed till he entered Damascus. As he walked about the town, a benevolent man saw him and took him to his house, where he abode awhile, till, one day, going abroad, he saw a caravan about to start for Baghdad and bethought himself to journey thither with it. So he returned to his host and taking leave of him, set out with the caravan.

Now God (blessed and exalted be He) inclined to him the heart of one of the merchants, so that he took him with him, and Ali ate and drank with him, till they came within one day's journey of Baghdad, where a company of highwaymen fell upon the caravan and took all they had. But few of the merchants escaped and these made each for a [separate] place of refuge. As for Ali, he made for Baghdad, where he arrived at sundown, as the gatekeepers were about to shut the gates, and said to them 'Let me in with you.' So they admitted him and asked him whence he came and whither he was bound. 'I am a man from the city of Cairo,' replied he, 'and have with me mules laden with merchandise and slaves and servants. I forewent them, to look me out a place wherein to deposit my goods; but as I rode along on my mule, there fell upon me a company of highway robbers, who took my mule and gear; nor did I escape from them but at the last gasp.' The warders entreated him hospitably and bade him welcome, saying, 'Abide with us this night, and in the morning we will look thee out a place befitting thee.' Then he sought in his pocket and finding a dinar remaining of those he had gotten of the merchant at Boulac, gave it to one of the gatekeepers, saying, 'Take this and change it and bring us something to eat.' The man took it and went to the market, where he changed it and brought Ali bread and cooked meat. So he ate, he and the gatekeepers, and he lay the night with them.

On the morrow, one of the warders carried him to a merchant of the town, to whom he told the same story, and he believed him, deeming that he was a merchant and had with him loads of merchandise. So he took him up into his shop and entreated him with honour. Moreover, he sent to his house for a splendid suit of his own apparel for him and carried him to the bath. So, [quoth Ali], I went with him to the bath, and when we came out, he brought me to his house, where he caused set the morning-meal before us, and we ate and made merry.

Then said he to one of his slaves, "Harkye, Mesoud, take this thy lord and show him the two houses in such a place. Whichever pleases him of them, give him the key of it and come back." So I went with the slave, till we came to a place where stood three houses, side by side, new and shut up. He opened the first and the second, and I looked at them; after which he said to me, "Of which of them shall I give thee the key?" "To whom does yon large house belong?" asked I. "To us," answered he; and I said, "Open it, that I may view it." Quoth he, "Thou hast no call to it." "Wherefore?" asked I; and he, "Because it is haunted, and none lodges there but in the morning he is a dead man; nor do we use to open the door, to take out the corpse, but mount the roof of one of the other two houses and take it up thence. For this reason, my master has abandoned the house and says, 'I will never again give it to any one.'" Quoth I, "Open it, that I may view it;" and I said in myself, "This is what I seek. I will pass the night there and in the morning be a dead man and be at peace from this miserable plight of mine." So he opened it and I entered and found it a splendid house, without its like; and I said to the slave, "I will have none other than this house; give me the key." But he answered, "I will not give thee this key till I consult my master," and going to the latter, said to him, "The Egyptian merchant saith, 'I will lodge in none but the great house.'"

When the merchant heard this, he rose and coming to Ali, said to him, 'O my lord, thou hast no need of this house.' But he replied, 'I will lodge in none other than this; for I care nothing for this saying.'[FN#199] 'Then,' said the other, 'write me an acknowledgment that, if aught happen to thee, I am not responsible.' 'So be it,' answered Ali; whereupon the merchant fetched an assessor from the Cadi's court and taking of him the prescribed acknowledgment, delivered him the key, which he took and entered the house. The merchant sent him bedding by a slave, who spread it for him on the bench behind the door and went away. Presently Ali went into the inner court and seeing there a well with a bucket, let down the latter and drew water, with which he made the ablution and prayed the obligatory prayers. Then he sat awhile, till the merchant's slave brought him the evening meal from his master's house, together with a lamp, a candle and candlestick, a basin and ewer and a gugglet; after which he left him and returned home. Ali lighted the candle and supped at his ease and prayed the evening prayer; after which he said to himself, 'Let us take the bed and go upstairs and sleep there, rather than here.' So he took the bed and carried it upstairs, where he found a splendid saloon, with gilded ceiling and walls and floor of variegated marble. He spread his bed there and sitting down, began to recite somewhat of the sublime Koran, when suddenly he heard one calling to him and saying, 'O Ali, O son of Hassan, shall I send thee down the gold?' And he answered, 'Send away.'

Hardly had he spoken, when pieces of gold began to rain down on him, like [pebbles from] a mangonel, nor stinted till the saloon was full. Then said the voice, 'Set me free, that I may go my way; for I have made an end of my service and have delivered unto thee that which was committed to me for thee.' Quoth Ali, 'I adjure thee by the Most High God to tell me the history of this gold.' 'This is a treasure that was enchanted to thee of old time,' replied the voice; 'and to every one, who entered the house, we used to come and say to him, "O Ali, O son of Hassan, shall we send down the gold?" Whereat he would be affrighted and cry out, and we would come down to him and break his neck and go away. But, when thou camest and we accosted thee by thy name and that of thy father, saying, "Shall we send thee down the gold?" and thou madest answer, saying, "Send away," we knew thee for the owner of it and sent it down. Moreover, there is yet another treasure for thee in the land of Yemen, whither thou wouldst do well to journey and fetch it. And now I would have thee set me free, that I may go my way.' 'By Allah,' said Ali, 'I will not set thee free, till thou bring me hither the treasure from Yemen!' Quoth the voice, 'If I bring it thee, wilt thou release me and the servant of the other treasure also?' 'Yes,' replied Ali; and the genie said, 'Swear to me.' So he swore to him, and he was about to go away, when Ali said to him, 'I have one other service to ask of thee.' 'What is that?' asked the genie. Quoth Ali, 'I have a wife and children at Cairo, in such a place; thou must fetch them to me, at their ease and without hurt.' 'I will bring them to thee in state,' answered the genie, 'in a litter, with a train of slaves and servants, together with the treasure from Yemen, if it be the will of God the Most High.' Then he took of him leave of absence for three days, at the end of which time all this should be with him, and departed.

When it was morning, Ali went round about the saloon, seeking a place wherein to lay the gold, and saw in the wall of the dais a marble panel, with a knob in it. So he pressed the knob and the panel slid back and discovered a door, which he opened and entering, found a great closet, full of linen bags. So he took out the bags and fell to filling them with gold and replacing them in the closet, till he had transported thither the whole treasure, whereupon he shut the door and pressing the knob, the panel returned to its place. Then he went down and seated himself on the bench behind the door. Presently, there came a knock at the door; so he opened it and found the merchant's slave, who, seeing him, returned in haste to his master with the good tidings, saying, 'O my lord, the merchant, who is lodged in the haunted house, is alive and well and sits on the bench behind the door.' When the merchant heard this, he rose joyfully and went to the house, taking breakfast with him; and when he saw Ali, he embraced him and kissed him between the eyes, saying, 'How hath God dealt with thee?' 'Right well,' answered Ali. 'I slept upstairs in the marble saloon.' Quoth the merchant, 'Did aught come to thee or didst thou see aught?' 'No,' replied Ali; 'I recited some little of the Koran and slept till morning, when I arose and after making the ablution and praying, came down and seated myself on the bench behind the door.' 'Praised be God for safety!' exclaimed the merchant, then left him and presently sent him slaves and servants, black and white and male and female, with furniture. They swept the house from top to bottom and furnished it magnificently, after which three black slaves and the like number of white and four slave-girls abode with him, to serve him, and the rest returned to their master's house. When the merchants heard of him, they sent him presents of all manner of things of price, even to meat and drink and clothes, and took him with them in the market, saying, 'When will thy baggage arrive?' And he answered, 'After three days it will come.'

Accordingly, when the three days had elapsed, the servant of the first treasure came to him and said, 'Go forth and meet thy harem, together with the treasure I have brought thee from Yemen, part of which is by way of costly merchandise; but the slaves, black and white, and the horses and camels and mules are all of the Jinn. (Now the genie, when he betook himself to Cairo, found Ali's wife and children in sore straits for nakedness and hunger; so he carried them forth of the town in a travelling-litter and clad them in sumptuous raiment of that which was in the treasure of Yemen.) When Ali heard this, he rose and repairing to the merchants, said to them, 'Come, go forth the city with me, to meet the caravan, with my merchandise, and honour me with the presence of your harems, to meet my harem.' 'We hear and obey,' answered they and sending for their harems, went forth all together and alighted in one of the gardens without the city. As they sat talking, behold, a cloud of dust arose out of the heart of the desert, and they came out to see what it was. Presently, it lifted and discovered mules and muleteers and tent-pitchers and linkmen, who came on, singing and dancing, till they reached the garden, when the chief of the muleteers came up to Ali and kissing his hand, said to him, 'O my lord, we have been long on the way, for we thought to enter some days ago; but we were in fear of the highway-robbers, so abode in our station four days, till God the Most High rid us of them.'

Then the merchants mounted their mules and rode forward with the caravan, wondering at the [number of] mules laden with chests, whilst their harems followed them, with Ali's harem, marvelling at the richness of the apparel of his wife and children and saying to each other, 'Verily, the King of Baghdad hath no such raiment, no, nor any other of the kings or merchants or notables.' So they entered Baghdad in great state and rode on till they came to Ali's house, where they alighted and brought the mules and their burdens into the midst of the courtyard. Then they unloaded them and laid up the goods in the storehouses, whilst the merchants' wives went up with Ali's family to the saloon, which they found as it were a luxuriant garden, spread with magnificent furniture. They sat in mirth and good cheer till noon, when they brought them up the noon meal, of all manner meats and sweetmeats of the best; and they ate and drank costly sherbets and perfumed themselves thereafter with rose-water and scented woods. Then they took leave and departed, men and women. When the merchants returned home, they all sent presents to Ali, according to their conditions; and their wives likewise sent presents to his wife, so that there came to them great plenty of slaves, black and white and male and female, and store of all manner goods, such as grain and sugar and so forth, beyond count. As for the landlord of the house, he abode with Ali and quitted him not, but said to him, 'Let the slaves and servants take the mules and the other cattle into one of my other houses, to rest.' Quoth Ali, 'They set out again to-night for such a place.' Then he gave them leave to go forth the city, that they might set out on their journey at nightfall; whereupon they took leave of him forthright and departing the city, flew off through the air to their several abodes.

Ali and the merchant sat together till a third of the night was past, when the latter returned to his own house and Ali went up to his wife and children and greeted them, saying, 'What hath befallen you all this time?' So she told him what they had suffered of hunger and nakedness and toil, and he said, 'Praised be God for safety! How did ye come?' 'O my lord,' answered she, 'I was asleep, with my children, yesternight, when suddenly one raised us from the ground and carried us through the air, without doing us any hurt, nor did he give over flying with us, till he set us down in a place as it were a Bedouin camping-place, where we saw laden mules and a litter borne upon two great mules, and round them servants, boys and men. So I said to them, "Who are ye and what are these loads and where are we?" And they answered, "We are the servants of the merchant Ali ibn Hassan of Cairo, who has sent us to fetch you to him at Baghdad." Quoth I, "Is it far or near, hence to Baghdad?" "Near," answered they; "there lies but the darkness of the night between us and the city." Then they mounted us in the litter, and on the morrow, we found ourselves with thee, without having suffered any hurt. 'Who gave you these clothes?' asked he, and she said, 'The chief of the caravan opened one of the chests on the mules and taking out the clothes, clad me and the children each in a suit; after which he locked the chest and gave me the key, saying, "Take care of it, till thou give it to thy husband." And here it is, safe.' So saying, she gave him the key, and he said, 'Dost thou know the chest?' 'Yes,' answered she. So he took her down to the magazine and she pointed it out, whereupon he put the key in the lock and opened the chest, in which he found much raiment and the keys of all the other chests. So he took them out and fell to opening the other chests, one after another, and feasting his eyes upon the jewels and precious metals they contained, whose like was not found with any of the kings; after which he locked them again and took the keys, saying to his wife, 'This is of the bounty of God the Most High.'

Then he returned with her to the saloon and bringing her to the secret panel, pressed the knob and opened the door of the closet into which he entered with her and showed her the gold he had laid up there. Quoth she, 'Whence hadst thou all this?' 'It came to me by the grace of my Lord,' answered he and told her all that had befallen him, from first to last. 'O my lord,' said she, 'all this comes of the blessing of thy father's prayers, whenas he prayed for thee, before his death, saying, "I beseech God to cast thee into no strait, except He bring thee speedy deliverance [therefrom]!" So praised be God the Most High for that He hath brought thee relief and hath requited thee with more than thou didst lose! But God on thee, O my lord, return not to thy sometime fashion and companying with folk of lewd life; but look thou fear God the Most High, both in public and private!' And she went on to admonish him. Quoth he, 'I accept thine admonition and beg God the Most High to remove the wicked from us and stablish us in His obedience and in the observance of the law of His Prophet, on whom be peace and salvation!'

Ali and his wife and children were now in all delight of life and gladness; and he opened him a shop in the merchants' bazaar and stocking it with jewels and precious metals, sat therein with his children and servants. He soon became the most considerable of the merchants of Baghdad, and his report reached the King of that city, who sent a messenger to command his attendance. So he took four trays of red gold and filling them with jewels and precious metals, such as no king possessed, went up to the palace and presenting himself before the prince, kissed the earth before him and wished him continuance of glory and prosperity, in the best words he could command. 'O merchant,' said the King, 'thou honourest our city with thy presence;' and Ali rejoined, saying, 'O King of the age, thy slave hath brought thee a present and hopes for acceptance thereof from thy favour.' So saying, he laid the four trays before the King, who uncovered them and seeing that they contained jewels, whose like he possessed not and whose worth equalled treasuries of money, said, 'O merchant, thy present is accepted, and so God please, we will requite thee with its like.' And Ali kissed his hands and went away. Then the King called his grandees and said to them, 'How many kings have sought my daughter in marriage?' 'Many,' answered they. 'Hath any of them given me the like of this gift?' asked he. 'Not one,' replied they; 'for that none of them hath its like;' and he said, 'I have consulted God the Most High,[FN#200] as to marrying my daughter to this merchant. What say ye?' 'Be it as thou deemest,' answered they. Then he bade the eunuch carry the four trays into his harem and going in to his wife, laid them before her. She uncovered them and seeing therein that whose like she possessed not,—no, nor a fraction thereof,—said to him, 'Of which of the kings hadst thou these? Peradventure of one of those that seek our daughter in marriage?' 'Not so,' answered he, 'I had them of an Egyptian merchant, who is lately come to our city. I heard tell of him and sent to command him to us, thinking to make his acquaintance, so haply we might find with him somewhat of jewels and buy them of him for our daughter's equipment. He obeyed the summons and brought us these four trays, as a present, and I saw him to be a handsome and elegant young man[FN#201] of dignified aspect and accomplished wit, well-nigh as he were of the sons of the kings. Wherefore my heart inclined to him and I rejoiced in him and thought to marry my daughter to him.' Then he told her what had passed between himself and his grandees on the subject and added, 'But what sayst thou?' 'O King of the age,' answered she, 'the affair is in God's hand, and thine, and what God willeth shall come to pass.' 'If it be His will,' rejoined the King, 'I will marry her to none other than this young man.'

So, on the morrow, he went out to his Divan and sending for Ali and the rest of the merchants of Baghdad, bade them be seated. Then he summoned the Cadi of the Divan and said to him, 'O Cadi, draw up the contract of marriage between my daughter and the merchant Ali of Cairo.' But the latter said, 'Thy pardon, O our lord the Sultan! It befits not that a merchant, such as I, be the King's son-in-law.' Quoth the King, 'It is my will to bestow this favour upon thee, as well as the Vizierate.' And he invested him forthwith in the Vizier's habit. Then Ali sat down in the seat of the Vizierate and said, 'O King of the age, thou hast bestowed on me this; and indeed I am honoured by thy bounties; but hear one word from me.' 'Say on,' answered the King, 'and fear not.' Quoth Ali, 'Since it is thine august will to marry thy daughter, thou wouldst do better to marry her to my son.' 'Hast thou then a son?' asked the King; and Ali replied, 'Yes.' 'Send for him forthright,' said the King; whereupon, 'I hear and obey,' answered Ali and sent a servant to fetch his son, who came and kissing the ground before the King, stood in an attitude of respect. The King looked at him and seeing him to be yet comelier than his daughter and goodlier than she in symmetry and brightness and perfection, said to him, 'O my son, what is thy name?' 'O our lord the Sultan,' replied the young man, who was then fourteen years old, 'my name is Hassan.' Then the Sultan said to the Cadi, 'Write the contract of marriage between my daughter Husn el Wujoud and Hassan, son of the merchant Ali of Cairo.' So he wrote the contract of marriage between them, and the affair was ended on the goodliest wise; after which all in the Divan went their ways and the merchants escorted the Vizier Ali to his house, where they gave him joy of his advancement and departed. Then he went in to his wife, who, seeing him clad in the Vizier's habit, exclaimed, 'What is this?' So he told her all that had passed, and she rejoiced therein with an exceeding joy.

On the morrow, he went up to the Divan, where the King received him with especial favour and seating him beside himself, said to him, 'O Vizier, we purpose to celebrate the wedding festivities and bring thy son in to our daughter.' 'O our lord the Sultan,' replied Ali, 'that thou deemest good is good.' So the Sultan gave orders for the festivities, and they decorated the city and held high festival thirty days, in all cheer and gladness; at the end of which time, the Vizier Ali's son Hassan went in to the princess and enjoyed her beauty and grace. When the queen saw her daughter's husband, she conceived a warm affection for him, and in like manner she rejoiced greatly in his mother. Then the King bade build his son-in-law a palace beside his own; so they built him with all speed a splendid palace, in which he took up his abode; and his mother used to abide with her son some days and then return to her own house. After awhile, the queen said to her husband, 'O King of the age, Hassan's mother cannot take up her abode with her son and leave the Vizier; neither can she abide with her husband and leave her son.' 'Thou sayst sooth,' replied the King and bade build a third palace beside the two others, which being done in a few days, he caused remove thither the Vizier's goods, and the latter and his wife took up their abode there. Now the three palaces communicated with one another, so that, when the King had a mind to speak with the Vizier by night, he would go to him or send to fetch him; and so with Hassan and his father and mother.

They dwelt thus in the greatest happiness and contentment awhile, till the King fell ill and his sickness increased on him. So he summoned the grandees of his realm and said to them, 'There is come upon me a sore sickness, peradventure a mortal one, and I have therefore summoned you to consult you respecting a certain matter, on which I would have you counsel me as you deem well.' 'What is the matter of which thou wouldst take counsel with us, O King?' asked they; and he answered, 'I am old and sickly and I fear for the realm, after me, from the enemies; so I would have you all agree upon some one, that I may proclaim him king in my lifetime and so ye may be at ease.' Whereupon quoth they all, 'We all approve of thy son-in-law Hassan, son of the Vizier Ali; for we have seen the perfectness of his wit and understanding, and he knows the rank of all, great and small.

'Are ye indeed agreed upon this?' asked the King, and they answered, 'Yes.' 'Peradventure,' quoth he, 'ye say this to my face, of respect for me; but, behind my back, ye will say otherwise.' But they all answered, saying, 'By Allah, our word, in public and in private, is one, varying not; and we accept him frankly and with all our hearts.' 'Since the case is thus,' said the King, 'bring the Cadi of the Holy Law and all the chamberlains and captains and officers of state before me to-morrow, and we will settle the affair on the goodliest wise.' 'We hear and obey,' answered they and withdrawing, notified all the doctors of the law and the chief Amirs.

So, on the morrow, they came up to the Divan and saluted the King, who said to them, 'O Amirs of Baghdad, whom will ye have to be king over you after me, that I may invest him in my lifetime, in the presence of you all?' Quoth they all, 'We are agreed upon thy daughter's husband, Hassan, son of the Vizier Ali.' 'If it be so,' said the King, 'go all of you and bring him before me.' So they all arose and repairing to Hassan's palace, said to him, 'Come with us to the King.' 'Wherefore?' asked he, and they answered, 'For a thing that will advantage both us and thee.' So he went in with them to the King and kissed the ground before the latter, who bade him be seated and said to him, 'O Hassan, all the Amirs have approved of thee and agreed to make thee king over them after me; and it is my purpose to proclaim thee, whilst I yet live, and so make an end of the business.' But Hassan arose and kissing the earth once more before the King, said to him, 'O our lord the King, among the Amirs there be [many] who are older than I and greater of worth; hold me quit therefore of this thing.' Quoth all the Amirs, 'We consent not but that thou be king over us.' Then said Hassan, 'My father is older than I, and he and I are one thing; and it befits not to advance me over him.' But Ali said, 'I will consent to nothing but what is pleasing to my brethren; and they have all chosen and agreed upon thee. Wherefore gainsay thou not the King's commandment and that of thy brethren.' And Hassan hung his head in abashment before the King and his father. Then said the King to the Amirs, 'Do ye all accept of him?' 'We do,' answered they and recited thereupon seven Fatihehs.'[FN#202] So the King said to the Cadi, 'Draw up a legal act testifying of these Amirs that they are agreed to make my daughter's husband Hassan king over them.' So the Cadi wrote the act and made it executory,[FN#203] after they had all taken the oath of fealty to Hassan. Then the King invested him with the insignia of royalty and bade him take his seat on the throne; whereupon they all arose and kissed King Hassan's hands and did homage to him.

The new king dispensed justice among the people that day, in right royal fashion, and invested the grandees of the realm in splendid robes of honour. When the Divan broke up, he went in to his father-and-law and kissed his hands; and the old King said to him, 'O my son, look thou govern the people in the fear of God.' 'O my father,' replied Hassan, 'through thy prayers for me, the grace of God will come to me.' Then he entered his own palace and was met by his wife and her mother and their attendants, who kissed his hands and gave him joy of his advancement, saying, 'This is a blessed day.' Then he went in to his father and mother, who rejoiced with an exceeding joy in that which God had vouchsafed him of his advancement to the kingship, and his father exhorted him to the fear of God and to affectionate solicitude in his dealings with his subjects. He passed the night in joy and gladness, and on the morrow, having prayed the appointed prayers, concluding with the customary recitation of part of the Koran, he repaired to the Divan, whither came all his officers and dignitaries. He passed the day in dispensing justice among his subjects, enjoining to beneficence and forbidding from iniquity and appointing and displacing, till nightfall, when the Divan broke up, after the goodliest fashion, and all present withdrew and went each his own way. Then he arose and went in to the palace, where he found his father-in-law's sickness grown heavy upon him and said to him, 'May no hurt befall thee!' At this the old King opened his eyes and said, 'O Hassan!' 'At thy service, O my lord,' replied the young man. Quoth the old King, 'My last hour is at hand: be careful of thy wife and her mother and look thou fear God and honour thy parents, being still in awe of the majesty of the Requiting King and remembering that He commandeth to justice and beneficence.' And Hassan replied, 'I hear and obey.'

The old King lingered three days after this and was then received into the mercy of God the Most High. They paid him the last offices and buried him and held over him readings and recitations of the Koran, to the end of the [customary] forty days. And King Hassan, son of the Vizier, reigned in his stead, and his subjects rejoiced in him and all his days were gladness. Moreover, his father ceased not to be his chief Vizier on his right hand, and he took to himself another Vizier, to be at his left hand. His reign was a prosperous one and he abode long King in Baghdad. God blessed him, by the old King's daughter, with three sons, who inherited the kingdom after him; and they abode in the enjoyment of all delight and solace of life, till there came to them the Destroyer of Delights and the Sunderer of Companies. And glory be to Him who is eternal and in whose hand are annulment and confirmation!

THE PILGRIM AND THE OLD WOMAN WHO DWELT IN THE DESERT.

A man of the pilgrims once slept a long sleep and awaking, found no trace of the caravan. So he arose and walked on, but lost his way and presently came to a tent, at whose door he saw an old woman and a dog by her, asleep. He went up to the tent and saluting the old woman, sought of her food. 'Go to yonder valley,' said she, 'and catch thy sufficiency of serpents, that I may broil of them for thee and give thee to eat.' 'I dare not catch serpents,' answered the pilgrim; 'nor did I ever eat them.' Quoth the old woman, 'I will go with thee and catch them; fear not.' So she went with him, followed by the dog, to the valley, and catching a sufficient number of serpents, proceeded to broil them. He saw nothing for it but to eat, for fear of hunger and exhaustion; so he ate of the serpents.

Then he was athirst and asked for water to drink. 'Go to the spring and drink,' answered she. So he went to the spring and found the water thereof bitter; yet needs must he drink of it, for all its bitterness, because of the violence of his thirst. Then he returned to the old woman and said to her, 'O old woman, I marvel at thy choosing to abide in this place and putting up with such meat and drink!' 'And how is it then in thy country?' asked she. 'In my country,' answered he, 'are wide and spacious houses and ripe and delicious fruits and sweet and abundant waters and goodly viands and fat meats and plentiful flocks and all things pleasant and all the goods of life, the like whereof are not, save in the Paradise that God the Most High hath promised to His pious servants.' 'All this,' replied she, 'have I heard: but tell me, have you a Sultan who ruleth over you and is tyrannical in his rule and under whose hand you are, who, if one of you commit a fault, taketh his goods and undoth him and who, when he will, turneth you out of your houses and uprooteth you, stock and branch?' 'Indeed, that may be,' answered the man. 'Then, by Allah,' rejoined she, 'these your delicious viands and dainty life and pleasant estate, with tyranny and oppression, are but a corroding poison, in comparison wherewith, our food and fashion, with freedom and safety, are a healthful medicine. Hast thou not heard that the best of all boons, after the true Faith, are health and security?'

Now these[FN#204] [quoth he who tells the tale] may be by the just rule of the Sultan, the Vicar of God in His earth, and the goodness of his policy. The Sultan of times past needed but little awfulness, for that, when the people saw him, they feared him; but the Sultan of these days hath need of the most accomplished policy and the utmost majesty, for that men are not as men of time past and this our age is one of folk depraved and greatly calamitous, noted for folly and hardness of heart and inclined to hatred and enmity. If, therefore, the Sultan that is set over them be (which God the Most High forfend) weak or lack of policy and majesty, without doubt, this will be the cause of the ruin of the land. Quoth the proverb, 'A hundred years of the Sultan's tyranny, rather than one of the tyranny of the people, one over another.' When the people oppress one another, God setteth over them a tyrannical Sultan and a despotic King. Thus it is told in history that there was, one day, presented to El Hejjaj ben Yousuf[FN#205] a docket, in which was written, 'Fear God and oppress not His servants with all manner of oppression.' When he read this, he mounted the pulpit, (for he was ready of speech,) and said, 'O folk' God the Most High hath set me over you, by reason of your [evil] deeds; and though I die, yet will ye not be delivered from oppression, with your evil deeds; for God the Most High hath created many like unto me. If it be not I, it will be a more fertile than I in mischief and a mightier in oppression and a more strenuous in violence, even as saith the poet:

For no hand is there but the hand of God is over it And no
     oppressor but shall be with worse than he oppress.

Tyranny is feared: but justice is the best of all things. We beg God to better our case.'

ABOULHUSN AND HIS SLAVE-GIRL TAWEDDUD.

There was once in Baghdad a man of rank and rich in money and houses and lands, who was one of the chiefs of the merchants, and God had largely endowed him with worldly goods, but had not vouchsafed him what he longed for of offspring; and there passed over him a long space of time, without his being blessed with children, male or female. His years waxed great, his bones became wasted and his back bent, and weakness and trouble increased on him, and he feared the loss of his wealth and possessions, seeing he had no child, whom he might make his heir and by whom he should be remembered. So he betook himself with supplication to God the Most High, fasting by day and rising by night [to pray]. Moreover, he made vows to God the Living, the Eternal, and visited the pious and was instant in supplication to the Most Migh, till He gave ear to him and accepted his prayer and took pity on his striving and complaining; so that, before many days were past, he lay with one of his women and she became with child by him the same night. She accomplished the months of her pregnancy and casting her burden, bore a male child as he were a piece of the moon; whereupon the merchant, in his gratitude to God, (to whom belong might and majesty,) fulfilled his vows and gave alms and clothed the widow and the orphan.

On the seventh night after the boy's birth, he named him Aboulhusn, and the wet-nurses suckled him and the dry-nurses dandled him and the slaves and servants carried him, till he grew up and throve and learnt the sublime Koran and the ordinances of Islam and the things of the True Faith. Moreover, he learned writing and poetry and mathematics and archery and became the pearl of his age and the goodliest of the folk of his time and his day, fair of face and fluent of tongue, bearing himself with a proud and graceful port and glorying in his symmetry and amorous grace. His cheeks were red and his forehead white and brilliant and the tender down of the whiskers darkened upon his face, even as saith one, describing him:

The Spring of the down on his cheeks to the eye shows clear;
     And how shall the rose endure, after Spring is here?
Dost thou not see that the growth on his cheek, forsooth, A
     violet is, that forth of its leaves doth peer?

He abode awhile with his father, in the best of case, and the latter rejoiced and delighted in him, till he came to man's estate, when the merchant one day made him sit down before him and said to him, 'O my son, the appointed term draws near; my last hour is at hand and it remains but to meet God (to whom belong might and majesty). I leave thee what shall suffice thee, even to thy son's son, of money and farms and houses and gardens; wherefore, O my son, fear thou God the Most High in [dealing with] that which I leave thee and follow none but those who will help thee [in this].' Not long after, he sickened and died; so his son ordered his funeral, after the goodliest fashion, and burying him, returned to his house and sat mourning for him [many] days and nights, till certain of his friends came in to him and said to him, 'Whoso leaveth the like of thee after him is not dead; indeed, what is past is past and mourning beseemeth none but girls and cloistered women.' And they ceased not from him, till they wrought on him to enter the bath and break off his mourning. Then he forgot his father's injunctions, and his head was turned by his riches; he thought fortune would still abide with him, as it was, and that wealth would never come to an end. So he ate and drank and made merry and took his pleasure and gave gifts of money and raiment and was profuse with gold and gave himself up to eating fowls and breaking the seals of wine-flasks and listening to songs and to the laugh of the wine, as it gurgled from the flagon; nor did he give over this way of life, till his wealth was wasted and the case became straitened [upon him] and he bit his hands [for repentance] and gone was all he had.

In good sooth, he had nothing left, after that which he had squandered, but a slave-girl that his father had bequeathed to him with the rest of his estate: her name was Taweddud and she had no equal in beauty and grace and brightness and symmetry and all perfection. She was past mistress in all manner of arts and accomplishments and endowed with [many] excellences, surpassing all the folk of her age and time. She was grown more notorious than a way-mark,[FN#206] for the versatility of her genius, and outdid the fair both in theory and practice and elegant and flexile grace, more by token that she was five feet high and in conjunction with fair fortune, with strait arched brows, as they were the crescent moon of Shaaban,[FN#207] and eyes like those of gazelles, nose like the point of the sabre and cheeks like blood-red anemones, mouth like Solomon's seal and teeth like necklaces of pearls, navel holding an ounce of benzoin ointment and waist more slender than his body whom love hath wasted and whom concealment [of his passion] hath made sick, and buttocks heavier than two hills of sand; brief, in all she answered to the saying of him who says:

Her fair shape ravisheth, if face to face she did appear, And
     if she turn, for severance from her she slayeth sheer.
Sun-like, full-moon-like, sapling-like, unto her character
     Estrangement nowise appertains nor cruelty austere.
Under the bosom of her shift the garths of Eden are, and the
     full-moon revolveth still upon her neck-rings' sphere.

She seemed [at once] a rising full moon and a browsing gazelle, a girl of nine and five,[FN#208] putting to shame the moon and the sun, even as saith of her the eloquent and ingenious poet:

The likeness of the full-moon, faring o'er The heavens, five
     and five and after four;
'Tis not my fault, if she have made of me Its likeness, when it
     first in heaven doth soar.

White of skin, odoriferous of breath, it seemed as if she were [at once] fashioned of fire and moulded of crystal; rose-red was the cheek of her and perfect her shape and figure; even as saith of her one, describing her:

Scented with sandal and musk, right proudly doth she go, With
     gold and silver and rose and saffron-colour aglow.
A flower in a garden she is, a pearl in an ouch of gold Or an
     image in chapel set for worship of high and low.
Slender and shapely she is; vivacity bids her arise, But the
     weight of her hips says, "Sit, or softly and slowly go."
Whenas her favours I seek and sue for my heart's desire, "Be
     gracious," her beauty says; but her coquetry answers,
     "No."
Glory to Him who made beauty her portion, and that Of her lover
     to be the prate of the censurers, heigho!

Indeed, she captivated all who saw her, with the excellence of her beauty and the sweetness of her smile, and transpierced them with the arrows she launched from her eyes; and withal she was eloquent of speech and excellently skilled in poetry.

When Aboulhusn had squandered all his wealth and there remained to him nought but this slave-girl, when [I say] the wretchedness of his plight became manifest to him, he abode three days without tasting food or taking rest in sleep, and Taweddud said to him, 'O my lord, carry me to the Khalif Haroun er Reshid, fifth of the sons of Abbas, and seek of him ten thousand dinars to my price. If he deem me dear at this price, say to him, "O Commander of the Faithful, my slave is worth more than this: do but prove her, and her value will be magnified in thine eyes, for she hath not her equal, and it were unfit that any but thou should possess her." And beware, O my lord, of selling me for less than the sum I have named, for it is but little for the like of me.' (Now Aboulhusn knew not her worth nor that she had no equal in her day.) So he carried her to the Khalif, to whom he repeated what she had bidden him say, and the Khalif said to her, 'What is thy name?' 'Taweddud,' answered she. 'O Taweddud,' asked he, 'in what branches of knowledge dost thou excel?' 'O my lord,' answered she, 'I am versed in syntax and poetry and jurisprudence and exegesis and lexicography and music and the knowledge of the Divine ordinances and in arithmetic and geodesy and the fables of the ancients. I know the sublime Koran [by heart] and have read it according to the seven and the ten and the fourteen [modes]. I know the number of its chapters and verses and sections and words and letters and its halves and fourths and eighths and tenths, the number of acts of adoration, that occur in it, and what there is in it of cancelling and cancelled;[FN#209] also what parts of it were revealed at Medina and what at Mecca and the manner of the different revelations. I know the Holy Traditions, their history and variants and the manner of their recitation and interpretation, together with those of them whose chain of descent is unbroken and those for which it is broken; and I have studied the exact sciences, geometry and philosophy and medicine and logic and rhetoric and composition; and I know many things and am passionately fond of poetry. I can play the lute and know its gamut and notation and so forth. If I sing and dance, I ravish, and if I adorn and perfume myself, I slay. In fine, I have reached a pitch of perfection such as can only be estimated by those who are stablished in knowledge.'[FN#210]

When the Khalif heard her words, he wondered at them and at the eloquence of her speech, seeing the tenderness of her age, and turning to Aboulhusn, said to him, 'I will summon those who shall examine her in all she lays claim to; if she answer [correctly,] I will give thee the price thou askest for her and more; and if not, thou art fitter to [possess] her [than I].' 'With all my heart, O Commander of the Faithful,' replied Aboulhusn. So the Khalif wrote to the Viceroy of Bassora, to send him Ibrahim ben Siyyar the poet, who was the first man of his day in argument and eloquence and poetry and logic, and bade him bring with him readers of the Koran and doctors of the law and physicians and astrologers and sages and geometricians and philosophers; and Ibrahim was more learned than all. In a little while they all arrived at the Khalif's palace, knowing not what was to do, and the latter sent for them to his sitting-chamber and bade them be seated. So they sat down and he bade fetch the damsel Taweddud, who came and unveiling, showed herself, as she were a sparkling star. The Khalif caused set her a stool of gold; and she saluted and speaking with an eloquent tongue, said, 'O Commander of the Faithful, bid the learned men present contend with me in argument.' So he said to them, 'I desire of you that ye dispute with this damsel on the things of her faith and make void her argument, in all she avoucheth;' and they answered, saying, 'We hear and obey God and thee, O Commander of the Faithful.'

Thereupon Taweddud bowed her head and said, 'Which of you is the doctor of the law, the scholar, versed in the interpretation of the Koran and in the Traditions?' Quoth one of them, 'I am the man thou seekest.' 'Then,' said she, 'ask me of what thou wilt.' Quoth the doctor, 'Hast thou read the precious book of God and dost thou know its abrogating and abrogated parts and hast thou meditated its verses and expressions?' 'Yes,' answered she. 'Then,' said he, 'I will proceed to question thee of the obligatory ordinances and the immutable institutions: so tell me of these, O damsel, and who is thy Lord, who thy prophet, and who thy brethren. Also, what is thy [point of] fronting [in prayer], what thine exemplar, what thy path and what thy highway?' 'Allah is my Lord,' replied she, 'and Mohammed (whom God bless and preserve) my prophet and the true-believers are my brethren. The Koran is my exemplar and the Kaabeh my [point of] fronting; the practice of good is my path and the Sunneh[FN#211] my highway.' (Q.) 'With what do we know God the Most High?' (A.) 'With the understanding.' (Q.) 'And what is the understanding?' (A.) 'It is of two kinds, natural and acquired. The first is that which God (to whom belong might and majesty) bestoweth on whom He will of His servants; and the other is that which men acquire by dint of study and fair knowledge.' (Q.) 'Thou hast answered well. Where is the seat of the understanding?' (A.) 'God casteth it in the heart, whence its lustre ascendeth to the brain and there becometh fixed.' (Q.) 'How knowest thou the Prophet of God?' (A.) 'By the reading of God's Holy Book and by signs and proofs and portents and miracles.' (Q.) 'What are the obligatory ordinances and the immutable institutions?' (A.) 'The obligatory ordinances are five in number. (1) Testification that there is no god but God alone, that He hath no partner in divinity and that Mohammed is His servant and His apostle. (2) The scrupulous performance of the enjoined prayers. (3) The payment of the poor-rate. (4) Fasting Ramazan. (5) The performance of the Pilgrimage to God's Holy House [at Mecca] for all to whom it is possible. The immutable institutions are four in number; to wit, night and day and sun and moon, the which build up life and hope, neither knoweth any son of Adam if they will be destroyed on the Day of Judgment.' (Q.) 'What are the obligatory rites of the Faith?' (A.) 'Prayer, almsgiving, fasting, pilgrimage, fighting for the Faith and abstinence from what is forbidden.' (Q.) 'Why dost thou stand up to pray?' (A.) 'To express the devout intent of the slave submitting himself to [or acknowledging] the Divinity.' (Q.) 'What are the conditions precedent of standing up to pray?' (A.) 'Purification, covering the privy parts, the avoidance of soiled clothes, standing on a clean place, fronting [the Kaabeh,] a standing posture, the intent[FN#212] and the magnification of prohibition.'[FN#213] (Q.) 'With what shouldest thou go forth thy house to pray? (A.) 'With an intent of worship.'[FN#214] (Q.) 'With what intent shouldest thou enter the mosque?' (A.) 'With an intent of service.'[FN#215] (Q.) 'Why do we front the Kaabeh?' (A.) 'In obedience to three Divine and one Traditional ordinance.' (Q.) 'What is the commencement, the consecration and the dissolution [end] of prayer?' (A.) 'Purification, the magnification of prohibition and the salutation of the angels [concluding prayer].' (Q.) 'What of him who neglecteth prayer?' (A.) 'It is reported, among the authentic (Traditions of the Prophet, that he said), "He, who neglecteth prayer wilfully and without excuse, hath no part in Islam."' (Q.) 'What is prayer?' (A.) 'Prayer is communion between the slave and his Lord, and in it are ten virtues, to wit, (1) it illumines the heart (2) makes the face shine (3) pleases the Merciful One (4) angers Satan (5) conjures calamity (6) wards off the mischief of enemies (7) multiplies mercy (8) forfends vengeance [or punishment] (9) brings the slave nigh unto [or in favour with] his Lord and (10) restrains from lewdness and iniquity. It is one of the written obligatory ordinances and the pillar of the Faith.' (Q.) 'What is the key of prayer?' (A.) 'Ablution.' (Q.) 'What is the key of ablution?' (A.) 'Nomination.'[FN#216] (Q.) 'That of naming God?' (A.) 'Faith.' (Q.) 'That of Faith?' (A.) 'Trust in God.' (Q.) 'That of trust in God?' (A.) 'Hope.' (Q.) 'That of Hope?' (A.) 'Obedience.' (Q.) 'That of obedience?' (A.) 'The confession of the unity and the acknowledgment of the divinity of God.' (Q.) 'What are the Divine ordinances of ablution?' (A.) 'They are six in number, according to the canon of the Imam Es Shafi Mohammed ben Idris (of whom God accept) to wit, (1) intent[FN#217] to wash the face (2) washing the face (3) washing the hands and elbows (4) wiping part of the head (5) washing the feet and heels and (6) observing the prescribed order of ablution, whose statutes are ten in number, to wit, (1) nomination (2) washing the hands before putting them into the vase (3) rinsing the mouth (4) drawing up water through the nostrils (5) wiping the whole head (6) washing the ears within and without with fresh water (7) separating a thick beard (8) separating the fingers and toes (9) washing the right foot before the left and (10) doing each of these thrice and all in unbroken succession. When the ablution is ended, the devotee should (quoth Es Shafi[FN#218]) say, "I testify that there is no god but God alone, who hath no partner, and that Mohammed is His servant and apostle. O my God, make me of those who repent and are made clean! Glory to Thee, O my God, and in Thy praise I testify that there is no god but Thou! I crave pardon of Thee and repent to Thee!" For it is reported, in the Holy Traditions, that the Prophet (whom God bless and keep) said of this prayer, "Whoso ensueth every ablution with this prayer, the eight gates of Paradise are open to him; he shall enter at which he pleases."' (Q.) 'When a man purposes to make the ablution, what betides him from the angels and the devils?' (A.) 'When a man prepares for ablution, the angels come and stand on his right and the devils on his left hand. If he name God, at the beginning of the ablution, the devils flee from him and the angels hover over him with a pavilion of light, having four ropes, to each an angel glorifying God and craving pardon for him, so long as he remains silent or calls upon the name of God. But if he omit to begin with naming God (to whom belong might and majesty) neither remain silent, the angels depart from him and the devils settle upon him and whisper evil thoughts unto him, till he falls into doubt and comes short in his ablution. For (quoth he on whom be blessing and salvation) "A perfect ablution driveth away the devils and assureth against the tyranny of the Sultan; and he who neglecteth the ablution, if calamity befall him, let him blame none but himself."' (Q.) 'What should a man do, when he awakes from sleep?' (A.) 'He should wash his hands thrice, before putting them into the vessel.' (Q.) 'What are the ordinances, Koranic and Traditional, of complete ablution?'[FN#219] (A.) 'The Koranic ordinances are intent and covering the whole body with water, so that it shall come at every part of the hair and skin. The Traditional, previous partial ablution [as before prayer,] rubbing the body, separating the hair and deferring in words[FN#220] the washing of the feet till the end of the ablution.' (Q.) 'What are the reasons [or occasions] for making the ablution with other than water, and what are the ordinances thereof, Koranic and Traditional?'[FN#221] (A.) 'The reasons are seven in number, to wit, lack of water, fear, need thereto, going astray on a journey, sickness, having the bones [broken and] in splints and wounds. As for its ordinances, the Koranic are four in number, to wit, intent, dust, applying it to the face and to the hands, and the Traditional two, to wit, nomination and preferring the right before the left hand.' (Q.) 'What are the conditions, the essentials [or fundamentals] and the Traditional statutes of prayer?' (A.) 'The conditions are five in number, to wit, (1) purification of the members (2) covering the privy parts (3) observing the proper hours, either of certainty or to the best of one's belief, (4) fronting the Kaabeh and (5) standing on a clean place. The essentials are twelve in number, to wit, (1) intent (2) the magnification of prohibition (3) standing at the proper distance one from another (4) repeating the first chapter of the Koran and also (according to the Shafiyites) saying, "In the name of God the Merciful, the Compassionate!" a verse thereof (5) bowing the body and tranquillity [or gravity] therein (6) keeping the feet and legs still and in the same position, [whilst the rest of the body moves], and tranquillity therein (7) prostration and tranquillity therein (8) sitting between two prostrations and tranquillity therein (9) repeating the latter profession of the Faith and sitting up therefor (10) invoking benediction on the Prophet (whom God bless and preserve) (11) the first Salutation[FN#222] and (12) the intent of making an end of prayer, [expressed] in words. The Traditional statutes are the call to prayer, the repetition of the words of the latter, raising the hands to either side of the face, whilst pronouncing the magnification of prohibition, pronouncing the magnification before reciting the Fatiheh [First chapter of the Koran], seeking refuge with God,[FN#223] saying "Amen," repeating the (obligatory) chapter [of the Koran] after the Fatiheh, repeating the magnifications during change of posture, saying, "May God hear him who praiseth Him!" and "O our Lord, to Thee be the praise!" uttering aloud the prayers in their places and in like manner, under the breath, those so prescribed, the first testification and sitting up thereto, blessing the Prophet therein, blessing his family in the latter profession [or testification] and the second Salutation.' (Q.) 'On what is the poor-rate taxable?' (A.) 'On gold and silver and camels and oxen and sheep and wheat and barley and millet and beans and pulse and rice and raisins and dates.' (Q.) 'What is the poor-rate on gold ?' (A.) 'Below twenty dinars, nothing; but, on that amount and over, half a dinar for every score.' (Q.) 'On silver?' (A.) 'Under two hundred dirhems, nothing; then, five dirhems on every two hundred.' (Q.) 'On camels?' (A.) 'For every five, an ewe, or for every twenty-five a pregnant camel.' (Q.) 'On sheep?' (A.) 'On forty and over, an ewe for every forty head.' (Q.) 'What are the ordinances of the Fast [of Ramazan]?' (A.) 'The Koranic are intent,[FN#224] abstinence from eating, drinking and copulation and stoppage of vomiting. It is incumbent on all who submit to the Law, save women in their courses and forty days after child-birth; and it becomes obligatory on sight of the new moon or on news of its appearance, brought by a trustworthy person and commending itself as truth to the hearer's heart; and among its requisites is that it be commenced by night.[FN#225] The Traditional ordinances of fasting are, hastening to break the fast,[FN#226] deferring the fore-dawn meal[FN#227] and abstaining from speech, save for good works and for calling on the name of God and reciting the Koran.' (Q.) 'What things vitiate not the fast?' (A.) 'The use of unguents and eye-powders and the dust of the road and the swallowing of one's spittle and the emission of seed in dreams of dalliance or at the sight of a strange woman and cupping and letting blood; none of these things vitiates the fast.' (Q.) 'What are the prayers of the two great [annual] Festivals?' (A.) 'Two one-bow prayers, after the traditional ordinance, without call to prayer or the repetition thereof by the devotee, who shall say, "Prayer is a collector of all folk!"[FN#228] and pronounce the magnification seven times in the first prayer, besides the magnification of prohibition, and in the second, five times, besides that of rising up, (according to the canon of the Imam Es Shafi, on whom God have mercy) and make the profession of the Faith.' (Q.) 'What are the prayers prescribed on the occasion of an eclipse of the sun or moon?' (A.) 'Two one-bow prayers, without call to prayer or repetition thereof by the devotee, who shall make in each two standings up and two inclinations and two prostrations, then sit up and testify and salute.' (Q.) 'What is the ritual of prayer for rain?' (A.) 'Two one-bow prayers, without call to prayer or repetition; then shall the devotee make the profession and salute. Moreover [the Imam] shall deliver an exhortation and (in place of the magnification, as in the two exhortations of the two great Festivals) ask pardon of God and reverse his mantle and pray and supplicate.' (Q.) 'What are the additional or occasional prayers?' (A.) 'The least is a one-bow prayer and the most eleven.' (Q.) 'What is the forenoon prayer?' (A.) 'At least, two one-bow prayers and at most, twelve.' (Q.) 'What is the service of seclusion?' [FN#229] (A.) 'It is a matter of Traditional ordinance.' (Q.) 'What are its conditions?' (A.) '(1) Expression of intent (2) not leaving the mosque save of necessity (3) not having to do with a woman (4) fasting and (5) abstaining from speech.' (Q.) 'Under what conditions is pilgrimage obligatory?' (A.) 'So a man be of full age and understanding and a true-believer and it be possible to him; and it is obligatory [on all], once before death.' (Q.) 'What are the Koranic statutes of the pilgrimage?'' (A.) '(1) Assumption of the pilgrim's habit (2) station at Arafat (3) compassing [the Kaabeh] (4) running [between Sefa and Merweh[FN#230]] and (5) [previous] shaving or clipping the hair.' (Q.) 'What are the Koranic statutes of the lesser pilgrimage?' (A.) 'Reassuming the pilgrim's habit and compassing and running [as before].' (Q.) 'What are the Koranic ordinances of the assumption of the pilgrim's habit?' (A.) 'Putting off sewn garments, forswearing perfume and ceasing to shave the head or cut the nails and avoiding the killing of game and copulation.' (Q.) 'What are the Traditional statutes of the pilgrimage?' (A.) '(1) The crying out, "Here I am, O our Lord!"[FN#231] (2) the circuitings [about the Kaabeh] of arrival [at] and departure [from Mecca] (3) the passing the night at Muzdelifeh and Mina[FN#232] and (4) the stone-throwing.' [FN#233] (Q.) 'What is the war in defence of the Faith and its essentials?' (A.) 'Its essentials are (1) the descent of the infidels upon us (2) the existence of the Imam[FN#234] (3) a state of [armed] preparation and (4) firmness in meeting the foe. Its ordinance is incital to battle, in that the Most High hath said, "O my Prophet, incite the faithful to battle!"' [FN#235] (Q.) 'What are the ordinances of buying and selling?' (A.) 'The Koranic are (1) offer and acceptance and (2) if the thing sold be a (white) slave, by whom one profiteth, to do one's endeavour to convert him to Islam and (3) to abstain from usury; the Traditional, resiliation and option before separating, after the saying of the Prophet, "The parties to a sale shall have the option [of cancelling or altering the terms of a bargain,] whilst they are yet unseparated."' (Q.) 'What is it forbidden to sell [or exchange] for what?' (A.) 'On this point I mind me of an authentic tradition, reported by Nafi[FN#236] of the Apostle of God, that he forbade the sale of dried dates for fresh and fresh figs for dry and jerked for fresh meat and cream for butter; in fine, of all eatables of one and the same kind, it is unlawful to sell some for other some.'[FN#237] When the professor heard her words and knew that she was keen of wit, ingenious and learned in jurisprudence and the Traditions and the interpretation of the Koran and what not else, he said in himself, 'Needs must I go about with her, that I may overcome her in the assembly of the Commander of the Faithful.' So he said to her, 'O damsel, what is the lexicographical meaning of the word wuzou?'[FN#238] And she answered, 'Cleanliness and freedom from impurities.' (Q.) 'And of prayer?' (A.) 'An invocation of good.' (Q.) 'And of ghusl?'[FN#239] (A.) 'Purification.' (Q.) 'And of fasting?' (A.) 'Abstention.' (Q.) 'And of zekat?'[FN#240] (A.) 'Increase.' (Q.) 'And of pilgrimage?' (A.) 'Visitation [or quest].' (Q.) 'And of jehad?'[FN#241] (A.) '[Endeavour in] repelling.' With this the doctor's arguments were exhausted, so he rose to his feet and said, 'Bear witness against me, O Commander of the Faithful, that this damsel is more learned than I am in the Law. Quoth she, 'I will ask thee somewhat, which do thou answer me speedily, an thou be indeed a learned man.' 'Say on,' quoth he; and she said, 'What are the arrows of the Faith?' 'They are ten in number,' answered he; 'to wit, (1) Testification,[FN#242] that is, religion (2) Prayer, that is, the Covenant (3) Alms, that is, purification (4) Fasting, that is, defensive armour (5) Pilgrimage, that is, the Law (6) Fighting for the Faith, that is, a general duty (7) Enjoining to beneficence and (8) Forbidding from iniquity, both of which are jealousy [for good] (9) The communion of the faithful, that is, sociableness, and (10) Seeking knowledge, that is, the praiseworthy way.' (Q.) 'What are the roots[FN#243] of Islam?' (A.) 'They are four in number, to wit, sincerity of belief, truth of purpose, observance of the limit [prescribed by the Law] and keeping the Covenant.' Then said she, 'I have one more question to ask thee, which if thou answer, [it is well]; else, I will take thy clothes.' Quoth he, 'Speak, O damsel;' and she said, 'What are the branches[FN#244] of Islam?' But he was silent and made no reply; and she said, 'Put off thy clothes, and I will expound them to thee.' Quoth the Khalif, 'Expound them, and I will make him put off his clothes for thee.' 'They are two-and-twenty in number,' answered she, 'to wit, (1) holding fast to the Book of God the Most High (2) taking example by His Apostle (whom God bless and preserve) (3) abstaining from doing evil (4) eating what is lawful and (5) avoiding what is unlawful (6) restoring things wrongfully taken to their owners (7) repentance (8) knowledge of the Law (9) love of [Abraham] the Friend [of God] (10) and of the followers of the Revelation[FN#245] (11) belief in the Apostles (12) fear of apostacy (13) preparation for departure[FN#246] (14) strength of conviction (15) clemency in time of power (16) strength in time of weakness (17) patience under affliction (18) knowledge of God the Most High and (19) of what His Prophet hath made known to us (20) gainsaying Iblis the accursed (21) striving earnestly against the lusts of the soul and gainsaying them and (22) guiltlessness of believing in any other god but God.'

When the Commander of the Faithful heard her words, he bade the doctor put off his clothes and hood; and he did so and went forth, beaten and confounded, from the Khalif's presence. Thereupon arose another man and said to her, 'O damsel, hear a few questions from me.' 'Say on,' quoth she; and he said, 'What are the conditions of valid [purchase by] payment in advance?' 'That the amount [of the thing bought], the kind and the period [of delivery to the purchaser], be [fixed or] known,' replied she. (Q.) 'What are the Koranic canons of eating?' (A.) 'The confession [by the eater] that God the Most High provideth him and giveth him to eat and drink and thanksgiving to Him therefor.' (Q.) 'What is thanksgiving?' (A.) 'The use by the creature of that which God vouchsafeth to him in the manner and to the ends for which He hath created it.' (Q.) 'What are the Traditional canons of eating?' (A.) 'The [preliminary] naming [of God] and washing the hands, sitting on the left buttock, eating with three fingers and eating of that which is chewed.' [FN#247] (Q.) 'What are the civilities of eating?' (A.) 'Taking small mouthfuls and looking little at one's table-companion.' (Q.) 'What are the heart's stays [or articles of faith] and their correlatives?' (A.) 'They are three in number, to wit, (1) holding fast to the Faith, the correlative whereof is the shunning of infidelity, (2) holding fast to the Traditional Law and its correlative, the shunning of innovation [or heresy] and (3) holding fast to obedience and its correlative, the shunning of disobedience.' (Q.) 'What are the conditions of ablution?' (A.) '(1) Submission to the will of God[FN#248] (2) possession of discernment of good and evil [or having attained the age of discretion] (3) purity of the water and (4) absence of legal or material impediments.' (Q.) 'What is belief?' (A.) 'It is divided into nine parts, to wit, (1) belief in the One worshipped (2) belief in the condition of slavery [of the worshipper] (3) belief in one God, to the exclusion of all others (4) belief in the Two Handfuls[FN#249] (5) belief in Providence (6) belief in the Abrogating and (7) in the Abrogated (8) belief in God, His angels and apostles and (9) in fore-ordained Fate, general and particular, its good and ill, sweet and bitter.' (Q.) 'What three things do away other three?' (A.) 'It is told of Sufyan eth Thauri[FN#250] that he said, "Three things do away other three. Making light of the pious doth away the future life, making light of kings doth away [this] life and making light of expenditure doth away wealth."' (Q.) 'What are the keys of the heavens, and how many gates have they?' (A.) 'Quoth God the Most High, "And heaven shall be opened, and it shall be [all] doors," [FN#251] and quoth he whom God bless and keep, "None knoweth the number of the gates of heaven, save He who created it, and there is no son of Adam but hath two gates allotted to him in the skies, one whereby his subsistence cometh down and another where-through his works [good and evil] ascend. The former is not closed, save when his term of life comes to an end, nor the latter, till his soul ascends [for judgment]."' (Q.) 'Tell me of a thing and a half thing and a no-thing.' (A.) 'The thing is the believer, the half thing the hypocrite and the no-thing the infidel.' (Q.) 'Tell me of various kinds of hearts.' (A.) 'There is the whole [or perfect] heart, which is that of [Abraham] the Friend [of God], the sick heart, that of the infidel, the contrite heart, that of the pious, fearful ones, the heart consecrated to God, that of our Lord Mohammed (whom God bless and preserve) and the enlightened [or enlightening] heart, that of those who follow him. The hearts of the learned are of three kinds, to wit, those that are in love with this world, with the next and with their Lord; and it is said that hearts are three, the suspended, that of the infidel, the non-existent [or lost], that of the hypocrite, and the constant [or firm], that of the true-believer. Moreover, it is said that the latter is of three kinds, namely, the heart dilated with light and faith, that wounded with fear of estrangement and that which feareth to be forsaken of God.'

Quoth the second doctor, 'Thou hast said well;' whereupon said she to the Khalif, 'O Commander of the Faithful, he has questioned me, till he is weary, and now I will ask him two questions. If he answer them, it is well, and if not, I will take his clothes and he shall depart in peace.' Quoth the doctor, 'Ask me what thou wilt,' and she said, 'What is religion?' 'Religion,' answered he, 'is confession[FN#252] with the tongue and belief with the heart and doing with the members. Quoth the Prophet, "The believer is not perfect in belief, except five qualities be accomplished in him, namely, trust in God, committal of his affair to Him, submission to His commandment, acquiescence in His decrees and that he do all for His sake; so is he of those who are acceptable to God and who give and withhold for His sake, and he is perfect in belief."' Then said she, 'What is the Koranic ordinance of ordinances and the ordinance which is the preliminary of all ordinances and that of which all others stand in need and that which comprehendeth all others, and what is the Traditional ordinance that entereth into the Koranic, and that whereby the latter is completed?' But he was silent and made no reply; whereupon the Khalif bade her expound and ordered him to doff his clothes and give them to her. 'O doctor,' said she, 'the Koranic ordinance of ordinances is the knowledge of God the Most High; that, which is the preliminary of all others, is the testifying that there is no god but God and that Mohammed is His apostle; that, of which all others have need, is ablution; that, which compriseth all others, is that of [total] ablution from [ceremonial] defilement; the Traditional ordinance, that enters into the Koranic, is the separation of the fingers and the thick beard; and that, wherewith all Koranic ordinances are completed, is circumcision.' Therewith was manifest the insufficiency of the doctor, who rose to his feet and said, 'I call God to witness, O Commander of the Faithful, that this damsel is more learned than I in the Law and what pertains thereto.' So saying, he put off his clothes and went away, defeated.

Then turned she to the rest of the learned men present and said, 'O masters, which of you is the reader,[FN#253] versed in the seven readings and in syntax and lexicography?' Thereupon the professor arose and seating himself before her, said, 'Hast thou read the Book of God the Most High and made thyself throughly acquainted with its verses and its various parts, abrogating and abrogated, equivocal and unequivocal, Meccan and Medinan? Dost thou understand its interpretation and hast thou studied it, according to the various versions and readings?' 'Yes,' answered she; and he said, 'What, then, is the number of its chapters, how many are Meccan and how many Medinan? How many verses and decades[FN#254] does it contain, how many words and how many letters and how many acts of prostration and how many prophets and birds are mentioned in it?' 'It contains a hundred and fourteen chapters,' replied she, 'whereof threescore and ten were revealed at Mecca and forty and four at Medina, six thousand three hundred and thirty-six verses, six hundred and twenty-one decades, seventy-nine thousand four hundred and thirty-nine words and three hundred and twenty- three thousand and six hundred and seventy letters; and to the reader thereof, for every letter, accrue ten benefits. The acts of prostration it contains are fourteen in number, and five-and-twenty prophets are named therein, to wit, Adam, Noah, Abraham, Ishmael, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Elisha, Jonah, Lot, Salih, Houd,[FN#255] Shuaib,[FN#256] David, Solomon, Dhoulkifl, [FN#257] Idris,[FN#258] Elias, Yehya,[FN#259] Zacharias, Job, Moses, Aaron, Jesus and Mohammed, the peace of God and His blessing be on them all! Moreover, nine birds [or flying things] are mentioned in the Koran, namely, the gnat, the bee, the fly, the ant, the hoopoe, the crow, the locust, the bustard and the bird of Jesus[FN#260] (on whom be peace), to wit, the bat.' (Q.) 'Which is the most excellent chapter of the Koran?' (A.) 'That of the Cow.'[FN#261] (Q.) 'Which is the most magnificent verse?' (A.) 'That of the Throne;[FN#262] it has fifty words, in each fifty blessings.' (Q.) 'What verse hath in it nine signs [or wonders]?' (A.) 'That in which quoth God the Most High, "Verily, in the creation of the heavens and the earth and the alternation of night and day and the ship that runneth in the sea with what profiteth mankind and in what God sendeth down from heaven of water and quickeneth therewith the earth, after its dearth, and spreadeth abroad therein all manner cattle, and the shifting of the winds and the clouds, pressed into service betwixt heaven and earth, are signs for folk who understand."'[FN#263] (Q.) 'Which is the most just?' (A.) 'That in which God saith, "Verily, God commandeth to justice and beneficence and giving to those that are near unto us and forbiddeth from profligacy and iniquity and oppression."'[FN#264] (Q.) 'Which is the most yearnful?' (A.) 'That in which quoth God, "Shall every man of them yearn to enter a garden of delight?"'[FN#265] (Q.) 'Which is the most hopeful?' (A.) 'That in which quoth God the Most High, "Say, 'O ye my servants, that have transgressed against your own souls, despair not of the mercy of God! Indeed, God forgiveth sins, all of them, for He is the Forgiving, the Compassionate.'"' [FN#266] (Q.) 'By what version dost thou read?' (A.) 'By that of the people of Paradise, to wit, the version of Nafi.'[FN#267] (Q.) 'In which verse doth God make prophets lie?' (A.) 'In that wherein He saith, "They [the brothers of Joseph] brought lying blood upon his shirt."'[FN#268] (Q.) 'In which doth He make infidels speak the truth?' (A.) 'In that wherein He saith, "The Jews say, 'The Nazarenes are [grounded] on nought,' and the Nazarenes say, 'The Jews are [grounded] on nought;' and [yet] they [both] read the Scripture."[FN#269] And [in this] both speak the truth.' (Q.) 'In which doth God speak in His own person [in the singular]?' (A.) 'In that in which He saith, "Neither have I created Jinn and men, but that they should worship."'[FN#270] (Q.) 'In which do the angels speak?' (A.) 'In that which saith, "We celebrate Thy praises and hallow Thee."'[FN#271] (Q.) 'What sayst thou of the formula, "I seek refuge with God from Satan the Stoned"?' (A.) 'It is obligatory, by commandment of God, on all who read the Koran, as appears by His saying, "When thou readest the Koran, seek refuge with God from Satan the Stoned."'[FN#272] (Q.) 'What are the words and variants of the formula?' (A.) 'Some say, "I take refuge with God the All-hearing and knowing, etc.," and others, "With God the Strong;" but the best is that of which the noble Koran and the Traditions speak. The Prophet was used, whenas he was about to open the Koran, to say, "I take refuge with God from Satan the Stoned." And quoth a Tradition, reported by Nafi on the authority of his [adopted] father, "The apostle of God used, when he rose in the night to pray, to say aloud, 'God is Most Great, with [all] greatness! Praise be to God abundantly! Glory to God morning and evening!' Then would he say, 'I seek refuge with God from Satan the Stoned and from the instigations of the Devils and their evil suggestions."' And it is told of Ibn Abbas[FN#273] (of whom God accept) that he said, "The first time Gabriel came down to the Prophet [with a portion of the Koran,] he taught him [the formula of] seeking refuge, saying, 'O Mohammed, say, "I seek refuge with God the All-hearing and knowing;" then say, "In the name of God the Compassionate, the Merciful!" And read, in the name of thy Lord who created men from clotted blood.'"'[FN#274] (Q.) 'What sayst thou of the verse, "In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful"? Is it one of the verses of the Koran?' (A.) 'Yes; it is a verse of "The ant"[FN#275] and occurs also [at the head of the first and] between every two [following] chapters; and there is much difference of opinion, respecting this, among the learned.' (Q.) 'Why is not the formula written at the head of the chapter of Immunity?'[FN#276] (A.) 'When this chapter was revealed for the dissolution of the alliance between the Prophet and the idolaters, the former sent Ali ibn Abi Talib (whose face God honour) therewith [from Medina to Mecca] at the season of the greater pilgrimage;[FN#277] and he read the chapter to them, but did not read "In the name, etc."'[FN#278] (Q.) 'What of the excellence of the formula and the blessing that attaches to it?' (A.) 'It is told of the Prophet that he said, "Never is 'In the name, etc.' pronounced over aught, but there is a blessing in it;" and it is reported, on his authority, that the Lord of Glory swore by His glory that never should the formula be pronounced over a sick person, but he should be healed of his sickness. Moreover, it is said that, when God created the empyreal heaven, it was agitated with an exceeding agitation; but He wrote on it, "In the name, etc.," and its agitation subsided. When the formula was first revealed to the Prophet, he said, "I am safe from three things, earthquake and metamorphosis and drowning;" and indeed its virtues are great and its blessings too many to enumerate. It is told of the Prophet that he said, "There will be brought before God, on the judgment day, a man with whom He shall reckon and finding no good deed to his account, shall order him to the fire; but the man will say, 'O my God, Thou hast not dealt justly by me!' Then shall God (to whom belong might and majesty) say, 'How so?' and the man will answer, saying, 'O Lord, for that Thou callest Thyself the Compassionate, the Merciful, yet wilt Thou punish me with the fire!' And God (extolled be His majesty) shall say, 'I did indeed name myself the Compassionate, the Merciful. Carry My servant to Paradise, of My mercy, for I am the most Merciful of those that have mercy.'"' (Q.) 'What was the origin of the use of the formula?' (A.) 'When God revealed the Koran, they wrote, "In Thy name, O my God!"; when He revealed the words, "Say, pray ye to God or pray ye to the Compassionate, what days ye pray, for to Him [belong] the most fair names,"[FN#279] they wrote, "In the name of God, the Compassionate;" and when He revealed the words, "Your God is one God, there is no god but He, the Compassionate, the Merciful,"[FN#280] they wrote, "In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful!"' (Q.) 'Did God reveal the Koran all at once or at intervals?' (A.) 'Gabriel the Faithful [Spirit] (on whom be peace) descended with it from the Lord of the Worlds upon His Prophet Mohammed, Prince of the Apostles and seal[FN#281] of the Prophets, by detached verses, containing commandment and prohibition, promise and menace, anecdotes and similitudes, as the occasion called for it, in the course of twenty years.' (Q.) 'Which chapter was first revealed?' (A.) 'According to Ibn Abbas, that of the Clot of Blood,[FN#282] and according to Jabir ben Abdallah,[FN#283] that of the Covered [with a cloak].'[FN#284] (Q.) 'Which verse was the last revealed?' (A.) 'That of Usury,[FN#285] and it is said [also], the verse, "When there cometh God's succour and victory."'[FN#286] (Q.) 'Tell me the names of the Companions who collected the Koran, in the lifetime of the Apostle of God.' (A.) 'They were four in number, to wit, Ubaï ibn Kaab, Zeid ibn Thabit, Abou Ubeideh Aamir ben Jerrah and Othman ben Affan,[FN#287] may God accept of them all!' (Q.) 'Who are the readers, from whom the [accepted] reading of the Koran is taken?' (A.) 'They are four in number, namely, Abdallah ben Mesoud, Ubaï ben Kaab, Maadh ben Jebel[FN#288] and Salim ben Abdallah.'[FN#289] (Q.) 'What sayst thou of the words of the Most High, "That which is sacrificed to stones"?'[FN#290] (A.) 'The stones are idols, which are set up and worshipped, instead of God the Most High, and [from this] we seek refuge with Him.' (Q.) 'What sayst thou of the words of the Most High, "[Quoth Jesus] Thou knowest what is in my soul, and I know not what is in Thy soul"?'[FN#291] (A.) 'They mean "Thou [God] knowest the truth of me and what is in me and I [Jesus] know not what is in Thee;" and the proof of this are his words,[FN#292] "Thou [God] art He that knoweth the hidden things;" and it is said, also, "Thou [God] knowest my essence, but I [man] know not Thine essence."' (Q.) 'What sayst thou of the words of the Most High, "O ye that believe, deny not yourselves the good things that God hath made lawful to you!"?'[FN#293] (A.) 'My master (on whom God have mercy) told me that Ez Zuhak[FN#294] said, "There was a people of the true-believers who said, 'We will dock our yards and don sackcloth;' whereupon this verse was revealed." But El Cutadeh[FN#295] says that it was revealed on account of sundry Companions of the Apostle of God, Ali ibn Abi Talib and Othman ben Musaab and others, who said, "We will dock ourselves and don hair [cloth] and make us monks."' (Q.) 'What sayst thou of the words of the Most High, "And God took Abraham to friend"?'[FN#296] (A.) 'The friend [of God] is the needy, the poor, and (according to another saying) he is the lover, he who is absorbed in the love of God the Most High and in whose exclusive devotion there is no falling away.'

When the professor saw her pass on in speech with the passing of the clouds[FN#297] and that she stayed not in answering, he rose to his feet and said, 'I take God to witness, O Commander of the Faithful, that this damsel is more learned than I in Koranic exegesis and what pertains thereto.' Then said she, 'I will ask thee one question, which if thou answer, it is well: but if thou answer not, I will strip off thy clothes.' 'Ask on,' quoth the Khalif; and she said, 'Which verse of the Koran has in it three-and-twenty Kafs,[FN#298] which sixteen Mims,[FN#299] which a hundred and forty Ains,[FN#300] and which section[FN#301] lacks the formula, "To whom [God] belong might and majesty"?' He could not answer, and she said to him, 'Put off thy clothes.' So he doffed them, and she said, 'O Commander of the Faithful, the verse of the sixteen Mims is in the chapter Houd and is the saying of the Most High, "It was said, 'O Noah, go down in peace from us, and blessing upon thee!'"[FN#302]; that of the three-and-twenty Kafs is the verse called of the Faith, in the chapter of the Cow; that of the hundred and forty Ains is in the chapter of El Aaraf,[FN#303] "And Moses chose seventy men of his tribe to [attend] our appointed time;[FN#304] to each man a pair of eyes."[FN#305] And the set portion which lacks the formula, "To whom [God] belong might and majesty," is that which comprises the chapters "The Hour draweth nigh and the Moon is cloven in twain," "The Compassionate" and "The Event."'[FN#306] And the professor departed in confusion.

Then came forward the skilled physician and said to her, 'We have done with theology and come now to physiology. Tell me, therefore, how is man made, how many veins, bones and vertebræ are there in his body, which is the chief vein and why Adam was named Adam?' 'Adam was called Adam,' answered she, 'because of the udmeh, to wit, the tawny colour of his complexion and also (it is said) because he was created of the adim of the earth, that is to say, of the soil of its surface. His breast was made of the earth of the Kaabeh, his head of earth from the East and his legs of earth from the West. There were created for him seven doors [or openings] in his head, to wit, the eyes, the ears, the nostrils and the mouth, and two passages, the urethra and the anus. The eyes were made the seat of the sense of sight, the ears of that of hearing, the nostrils of that of smell, the mouth of that of taste and the tongue to speak forth what is in the innermost heart of man. Adam was originally created of four elements combined, water, earth, fire and air. The yellow bile is the humour of fire, being hot and dry, the black bile that of earth, being cold and dry, the phlegm that of water, being cold and moist, and the blood that of air, being hot and moist. There are in man three hundred and threescore veins, two hundred and forty bones and three souls [or natures], the animal, the rational and the essential or [natural], to each of which is allotted a separate function. Moreover, God made him a heart and spleen and lungs and six guts and a liver and two kidneys and marrow [or brain] and buttocks and bones and skin and five senses, hearing, seeing, smell, taste and touch. The heart He set on the left side of the breast and made the stomach the exemplar [or governor] thereof. He appointed the lungs for a ventilator to the heart and set the liver on the right side, opposite thereto. Moreover, He made, besides this, the midriff and the intestines and set up the bones of the breast and ribbed them with the ribs.' (Q.) 'How many ventricles are there in a man's head?' (A.) 'Three, which contain five faculties, styled the intrinsic senses, i.e. common sense, fancy, thought, apperception and memory.' (Q.) 'Describe to me the scheme of the bones.' (A.) 'It consists of two hundred and forty bones, which are divided into three parts, the head, the trunk and the extremities. The head is divided into skull and face. The skull is constructed of eight bones, and to it are attached the teeth, two-and- thirty in number, and the hyoïd bone, one. The trunk is divided into spinal column, breast and basin. The spinal column is made up of four-and-twenty bones, called vertebræ, the breast of the breastbone and the ribs, which are four-and-twenty in number, twelve on each side, and the basin of the hips, the sacrum and the coccyx. The extremities are divided into arms and legs. The arms are again divided into shoulder, comprising shoulder-blades and collar-bone, the upper- arm, one bone, the fore-arm, composed of two bones, the radius and the ulna, and the hand, consisting of the wrist, the metacarpus and the fingers. The wrist is composed of eight bones, ranked in two rows, each comprising four bones; the metacarpus of five and the fingers, which are five in number, of three bones each, called the phalanges, except the thumb, which has but two. The lower extremities are divided into thigh, one bone, leg, composed of three bones, the tibia, the fibula and the kneepan, and the foot, divided like the hand, with the exception of the wrist,[FN#307] which is composed of seven bones, ranged in two rows, two in one and five in the other.' (Q.) 'Which is the root of the veins?' (A.) 'The aorta from which they ramify, and they are many, none knoweth the tale of them save He who created them; but, as I have before observed, it is said that they are three hundred and threescore in number. Moreover, God hath appointed the tongue to interpret [for the thought], the eyes to serve as lanterns, the nostrils to smell with, and the hands for prehensors. The liver is the seat of pity, the spleen of laughter and the kidneys of craft; the lungs are the ventilators, the stomach the storehouse and the heart the pillar [or mainstay] of the body. When the heart is sound, the whole body is sound, and when the heart is corrupt, the whole body is corrupt.' (Q.) 'What are the outward signs and symptoms of disease in the members of the body, both internal and external?' (A.) 'A physician, who is a man of understanding, looks into the state of the body and is guided by the feel of the hands, according as they are firm [or flabby], hot or cool, moist or dry. Internal disorders are also indicated by external symptoms, such as yellowness of the [whites of the] eyes, which denotes jaundice, and bending of the back, which denotes disease of the lungs.' (Q.) 'What are the internal symptoms of disease?' (A.) 'The science of the diagnosis of disease by internal symptoms is founded upon six canons, to wit, (1) the actions [of the patient] (2) what is evacuated from his body (3) the nature and (4) site of the pain he feels (5) swelling and (6) the effluvia given off by his body.' (Q.) 'How cometh hurt to the head?' (A.) 'By the introduction of food upon food, before the first be digested, and by satiety upon satiety; this it is that wasteth peoples. He who will live long, let him be early with the morning-meal and not late with the evening-meal; let him be sparing of commerce with women and chary of cupping and blood-letting and make of his belly three parts, one for food, one for drink and the third for air; for that a man's intestines are eighteen spans in length and it befits that he appoint six for food, six for drink, and six for air. If he walk, let him go gently; it will be wholesomer for him and better for his body and more in accordance with the saying of God the Most High, "Walk not boisterously [or proudly] upon the earth."'[FN#308] (Q.) 'What are the symptoms of yellow bile and what is to be feared there-from?' (A.) 'The symptoms are, sallow complexion and dryness and bitter taste in the mouth, failure of the appetite, and rapid pulse; and the patient has to fear high fever and delirium and prickly heat and jaundice and tumour and ulceration of the bowels and excessive thirst.' (Q.) 'What are the symptoms of black bile and what has the patient to fear from it, if it get the mastery of the body?' (A.) 'The symptoms are deceptive appetite and great mental disquiet and care and anxiety; and it behoves that it be evacuated, else it will generate melancholy and leprosy and cancer and disease of the spleen and ulceration of the bowels.' (Q.) 'Into how many branches is the art of medicine divided?' (A.) 'Into two: the art of diagnosing diseases and that of restoring the diseased body to health.' (Q.) 'When is the drinking of medicine more efficacious than otherwhen?' (A.) 'When the sap runs in the wood and the grape thickens in the cluster and the auspicious planets[FN#309] are in the ascendant, then comes in the season of the efficacy of drinking medicine and the doing away of disease.' (Q.) 'What time is it, when, if a man drink from a new vessel, the drink is wholesomer and more digestible to him than at another time, and there ascends to him a pleasant and penetrating fragrance?' (A.) 'When he waits awhile after eating, as quoth the poet:

I rede thee drink not after food in haste, but tarry still;
     Else with a halter wilt thou lead thy body into ill.
Yea, wait a little after thou hast eaten, brother mine; Then
     drink, and peradventure thus shalt thou attain unto thy
     will.'

(Q.) 'What food is it that giveth not rise to ailments?' (A.) 'That which is not eaten but after hunger, and when it is eaten, the ribs are not filled with it, even as saith Galen the physician, "Whoso will take in food, let him go slowly and he shall not go wrong." To end with the saying of the Prophet, (whom God bless and preserve,) "The stomach is the home of disease, and abstinence is the beginning[FN#310] of cure, [FN#311] for the origin of every disease is indigestion, that is to say, corruption of the meat in the stomach."' (Q.) 'What sayst thou of the bath?' (A.) 'Let not the full man enter it. Quoth the Prophet, "The bath is the delight of the house, for that it cleanseth the body and calleth to mind the fire [of hell]."' (Q.) 'What waters[FN#312] are best for bathing?' (A.) 'Those whose waters are sweet and plains wide and whose air is pleasant and wholesome, its climate [or seasons] being fair, autumn and summer and winter and spring.' (Q.) 'What kind of food is the most excellent?' (A.) 'That which women make and which has not cost overmuch trouble and which is readily digested. The most excellent of food is brewis,[FN#313] according to the saying of the Prophet, "Brewis excels other food, even as Aaïsheh excels other women."' (Q.) 'What kind of seasoning[FN#314] is most excellent?' (A.) 'Flesh meat (quoth the Prophet) is the most excellent of seasonings; for that it is the delight of this world and the next.' (Q.) 'What kind of meat is the most excellent?' (A.) 'Mutton; but jerked meat is to be avoided, for there is no profit in it.' (Q.) 'What of fruits?' (A.) 'Eat them in their prime and leave them when their season is past.' (Q.) 'What sayst thou of drinking water?' (A.) 'Drink it not in large quantities nor by gulps, or it will give thee the headache and cause divers kinds of harm; neither drink it immediately after the bath nor after copulation or eating (except it be after the lapse of fifteen minutes for a young and forty for an old man) or waking from sleep.' (Q.) 'What of drinking wine?' (A.) 'Doth not the prohibition suffice thee in the Book of God the Most High, where He saith, "Verily, wine and casting lots and idols and divining arrows are an abomination of the fashion of the Devil: shun them, so surely shall ye thrive."[FN#315] And again, "If they ask thee of wine and casting lots, say, 'In them are great sin and advantages to mankind, but the sin of them is greater than the advantage.'"[FN#316] Quoth the poet:

O wine-bibber, art not ashamed and afraid To drink of a thing
     that thy Maker forbade?
Come, put the cup from thee and mell with it not, For wine and
     its drinker God still doth upbraid.

And quoth another:

I drank the sweet sin till my wit went astray: 'Tis ill drinking of that which doth reason away.

As for the useful qualities that are therein, it disperses gravel from the kidneys and strengthens the bowels, banishes care, moves to generosity and preserves health and digestion. It assains the body, expels disease from the joints, purifies the frame of corrupt humours, engenders cheerfulness and gladdens and keeps up the natural heat. It contracts the bladder, strengthens the liver and removes obstructions, reddens the face, clears away cobwebs from the brain and defers gray hairs. In short, had not God (to whom belong might and majesty) forbidden it, there were not on the face of the earth aught fit to stand in its place. As for drawing lots, it is a game of hazard.'[FN#317] (Q.) 'What wine is the best?' (A.) 'That which is pressed from white grapes and ferments fourscore days or more: it resembleth not water and indeed there is nothing on the surface of the earth like unto it.' (Q.) 'What of cupping?' (A.) 'It is for him who is [over] full of blood and has no defect therein. Whoso will be cupped, let it be at the wane of the moon, on a day without cloud or wind or rain and the seventeenth of the month. If it fall on a Tuesday, it will be the more efficacious, and nothing is more salutary for the brain and eyes and for clearing the memory than cupping.' (Q.) 'What is the best time for cupping?' (A.) 'One should be cupped fasting, for this fortifies the wit and the memory. It is reported of the Prophet that, when any one complained to him of a pain in the head or legs, he would bid him be cupped and not eat salt [meat] fasting, for it engendered scurvy, neither eat sour milk immediately after [cupping].' (Q.) 'When is cupping to be avoided?' (A.) 'On Wednesdays and Saturdays, and let him who is cupped on these days blame none but himself. Moreover, one should not be cupped in very hot nor in very cold weather; and the best season for cupping is Spring.' (Q.) 'Tell me of copulation.'

At this Taweddud hung her head, for shame and confusion before the Khalif; then said, 'By Allah, O Commander of the Faithful, it is not that I am at fault, but that I am ashamed, though, indeed, the answer is on the tip of my tongue.' 'Speak, O damsel,' said the Khalif; whereupon quoth she, 'Copulation hath in it many and exceeding virtues and praiseworthy qualities, amongst which are, that it lightens a body full of black bile and calms the heat of love and engenders affection and dilates the heart and dispels sadness; and the excess of it is more harmful in summer and autumn than in spring and winter.' (Q.) 'What are its good effects?' (A.) 'It doth away trouble and disquiet, calms love and chagrin and is good for ulcers in a cold and dry humour; but excess of it weakens the sight and engenders pains in the legs and head and back: and beware, beware of having to do with old women, for they are deadly. Quoth the Imam Ali,[FN#318] (whose face God honour), "Four things kill and ruin the body: bathing on a full stomach, eating salt meat, copulation on a plethora [of blood] and lying with an ailing woman; for she will weaken thy strength and infect thy body with sickness; and an old woman is deadly poison." And quoth one of them, "Beware of taking an old woman to wife, though she be richer in goods than Caroun."'[FN#319] (Q.) 'What is the best copulation?' (A.) 'If the woman be young, well-shaped, fair of face, swelling-breasted and of honourable extraction, she will add to thee strength and health of body; and let her be even as saith the poet, describing her:

Even by thy looks, I trow, she knows what thou desir'st, By
     instinct, without sign or setting forth of sense;
And when thou dost behold her all-surpassing grace, Her charms
     enable thee with gardens to dispense.'

(Q.) 'At what time is copulation good?' (A.) 'If by day, after the morning-meal, and if by night, after food digested.' (Q.) 'What are the most excellent fruits?' (A.) 'The pomegranate and the citron.' (Q.) 'Which is the most excellent of vegetables?' (A.) 'The endive.' (Q.) 'Which of sweet-scented flowers?' (A.) 'The rose and the violet.' (Q.) 'How is sperma hominis secreted?' (A.) 'There is in man a vein that feeds all the other veins. Water [or blood] is collected from the three hundred and threescore veins and enters, in the form of red blood, the left testicle, where it is decocted, by the heat of man's temperament, into a thick, white liquid, whose odour is as that of the palm-spathe.' (Q.) 'What bird [or flying thing] is it that emits seed and menstruates?' (A.) 'The bat, that is, the rere-mouse.' (Q.) 'What is that which, when it is shut out [from the air], lives, and when it smells the air, dies?' (A.) 'The fish.' (Q.) 'What serpent lays eggs?' (A.) 'The dragon.'

With this the physician was silent, being weary with much questioning, and Taweddud said to the Khalif, 'O Commander of the Faithful, he hath questioned me till he is weary, and now I will ask him one question, which if he answer not, I will take his clothes as lawful prize.' 'Ask on,' quoth the Khalif. So she said to the physician, 'What is that which resembles the earth in [plane] roundness, whose resting-place and spine are hidden, little of value and estimation, narrow-chested, its throat shackled, though it be no thief nor runaway slave, thrust through and through, though not in fight, and wounded, though not in battle; time eats its vigour and water wastes it away; now it is beaten without a fault and now made to serve without stint; united after separation, submissive, but not to him who caresses it, pregnant[FN#320] without a child in its belly, drooping, yet not leaning on its side, becoming dirty yet purifying itself, cleaving to [its mate], yet changing, copulating without a yard, wrestling without arms, resting and taking its ease, bitten, yet not crying out, [now] more complaisant than a boon-companion and [anon] more troublesome than summer-heat, leaving its wife by night and clipping her by day and having its abode in the corners of the mansions of the noble?' The physician was silent and his colour changed and he bowed his head awhile in perplexity and made no reply; whereupon she said to him, 'O physician, speak or put off thy clothes.' At this, he rose and said, 'O Commander of the Faithful, bear witness against me that this damsel is more learned than I in medicine and what else and that I cannot cope with her.' And he put off his clothes and fled forth. Quoth the Khalif to Taweddud, 'Expound to us thy riddle,' and she replied, 'O Commander of the Faithful, it is the button and the button loop.'

Then said she, 'Let him of you who is an astronomer come forward.' So the astronomer came forward and sat down before her. When she saw him, she laughed and said, 'Art thou the astronomer, the mathematician, the scribe?' 'Yes,' answered he. 'Ask of what thou wilt,' quoth she; 'success rests with God.' So he said, 'Tell me of the sun and its rising and setting?' And she replied, 'The sun rises in the Eastern hemisphere and sets in the Western, and each hemisphere comprises ninescore degrees. Quoth God the Most High, "Verily, I swear by the Lord of the places of the sunrise and of the sunsetting."[FN#321] And again, "He it is who appointed the sun for a splendour and the moon for a light and ordained to her mansions, that ye might know the number of the years and the reckoning."[FN#322] The moon is Sultan of the night and the sun Sultan of the day, and they vie with one another in their courses and follow each other in uninterrupted succession. Quoth God the Most High, "It befits not that the sun overtake the moon nor that the night prevent the day, but each glides in [its own] sphere."'[FN#323] (Q.) 'When the day cometh, what becomes of the night, and what of the day, when the night cometh?' (A.) 'He maketh the night to enter into the day and the day into the night.'[FN#324] (Q.) 'Enumerate to me the mansions of the moon.' (A.) 'They are eight-and-twenty in number, to wit, Sheretan, Butain, Thureya, Deberan, Hecaäh, Henaäh, Dhiraa, Nethreh, Terf, Jebheh, Zubreh, Serfeh, Awwaa, Simak and Ghefr, Zubaniya, Iklil, Kelb, Shauleh, Naaïm, Beldeh, Saad edh Dhabih, Saad el Bulaa, Saad el Akhbiyeh, Saad es Suwoud, Fergh the Former and Fergh the Latter and Rishaa. They are disposed in the order of the letters of the alphabet, according to their numerical power, and there are in them secret virtues which none knoweth save God (glorified and exalted be He) and those who are firmly stablished in science. They are divided among the twelve signs of the Zodiac, in the ratio of two mansions and a third of a mansion to each sign. Thus Sheretan, Butain and one-third of Thureya belong to Aries, the other two- thirds of Thureya, Deberan and two thirds of Hecaäh to Taurus, the other third of Hecaäh, Henaäh and Dhiraa to Gemini, Nethreh, Terf, and a third of Jebheh to Cancer, the other two-thirds of Jebheh, Zubreh and two-thirds of Serfeh to Leo, the other third of Serfeh, Awwaa and Simak to Virgo, Ghefr, Zubaniya and one-third of Iklil to Libra, the other two-thirds of Iklil, Kelb and two- thirds of Shauleh to Scorpio, the other third of Shauleh, Naaïm and Beldeh to Sagittarius, Saad edh Dhabih, Saad el Bulaa and one-third of Saad es Suwoud to Capricorn, the other two-thirds of Saad es Suwoud, Saad el Akbiyeh and two-thirds of Fergh the Former to Aquarius, the other third of Fergh the Former, Fergh the Latter and Rishaa to Pisces.' (Q.) 'Tell me of the planets and their natures, also of their sojourn in the signs of the Zodiac, their aspects, favourable and sinister, their houses, ascendants and descendants.' (A.) 'The sitting is narrow [for so comprehensive a matter], but they are seven in number, to wit, the sun, the moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn. The sun is hot and dry, sinister in conjunction, favourable in opposition, and abides thirty days in each sign. The moon is cold and moist, favourable of aspect, and abides two days in each sign and a third of another day. Mercury is of a mixed nature, favourable [in conjunction] with the favourable and sinister [in conjunction] with the sinister [asterisms], and abides in each sign seventeen and a half days. Venus is temperate, favourable and abides in each sign five-and-twenty days. Mars is sinister and abides in each sign ten months. Jupiter is favourable and abides in each sign a year. Saturn is cold and dry and sinister and abides in each sign thirty months. The house of the sun is Leo, its ascendant is Aries and its descendant Aquarius. The moon's house is Cancer, its ascendant Taurus, its descendant Scorpio and its sinister aspect Capricorn. Saturn's house is Capricorn and Aquarius, its ascendant Libra, its descendant Aries and its sinister aspects Cancer and Leo. Jupiter's house is Pisces and Sagittarius, its ascendant Cancer, its descendant Capricorn and its sinister aspects Gemini and Leo. Venus's house is Taurus, its ascendant Pisces, its descendant Libra and its sinister aspects Aries and Scorpio. Mercury's house is Gemini and Virgo, its ascendant Virgo, its descendant Pisces and its sinister aspect Taurus. Mars's house is Aries and Scorpio, its ascendant Capricorn, its descendant Cancer and its sinister aspect Libra.'

When the astronomer saw her acuteness and skill and heard her fair answers, he bethought him for a device to confound her before the Commander of the Faithful and said to her, 'O damsel, will rain fall this month?' At this she bowed her head and pondered so long, that the Khalif thought her at a loss for an answer and the astronomer said to her, 'Why dost thou not speak?' Quoth she, 'I will not speak except the Commander of the Faithful give me leave.' The Khalif laughed and said, 'How so?' Said she, 'I would have thee give me a sword, that I may strike off his head, for he is an infidel.' At this the Khalif and those about him laughed, and she said, 'O astronomer, there are five things that none knoweth save God the Most High;' and she repeated the following verse: 'Verily, with God is the knowledge of the hour; He sendeth down the rain and knoweth what is in the wombs. None knoweth what the morrow shall bring forth for him nor in what land he shall die. Verily, God is the All-wise, the All-knowing.'[FN#325]

Quoth the astronomer, 'Thou hast said well, and by Allah, I thought but to try thee.' 'Know,' rejoined she, 'that the almanack-makers have certain signs and tokens, referring to the planets, relative to the coming in of the year, and in which are tribulations for the folk.' (Q.) 'What are they?' (A.) 'Each day hath a planet that rules it. So, if the first day of the year fall on a Sunday, that day is the sun's and this portends (though God alone is All-knowing) oppression of kings and sultans and governors and much miasma and lack of rain and that the folk will be in great disorder and the grain-crop will be good, except lentils, which will perish, and the vines will rot and flax will be dear and wheat cheap from the beginning of Toubeh[FN#326] to the end of Beremhat.[FN#327] Moreover, in this year there will be much fighting among kings, and there shall be great plenty of good in this year.' (Q.) 'What if the first day fall on Monday?' (A.) 'That day belongs to the moon and portends righteousness in administrators and deputies and that it will be a year of much rain and grain-crops will be good, but linseed will decay and wheat will be cheap in the month Keyehk;[FN#328] also that plagues will be rife and that half the sheep and goats will die, that grapes will be plentiful and honey scarce and cotton cheap.' (Q.) 'What if it fall on Tuesday?' (A.) 'That is Mars's day and portends death of great men and much destruction and outpouring of blood and dearness of grain, lack of rain and scarcity of fish, which will anon be in excess and anon fail [altogether]. In this year, lentils and honey will be cheap and linseed dear and only barley will thrive, to the exception of all other grain: great will be the fighting among kings and death will be in the blood and there will be much mortality among asses.' (Q.) 'What if it fall on Wednesday?' (A.) 'That is Mercury's day and portends great anarchy among the folk and much enmity and rotting of some of the green crops and moderate rains; also that there will be great mortality among cattle and infants and much fighting by sea, that wheat will be dear from Burmoudeh to Misra[FN#329] and other grains cheap: thunder and lightning will abound and honey will be dear, palm-trees will thrive and bear apace and flax and cotton will be plentiful, but radishes and onions will be dear.' (Q.) 'What if it fall on Thursday?' (A.) 'That is Jupiter's day and portends equity in viziers and righteousness in Cadis and fakirs and the ministers of religion and that good will be plentiful: rain and fruits and trees and grain and fish will abound and flax, cotton, honey and grapes be cheap.' (Q.) 'What if it fall on Friday?' (A.) 'That day belongs to Venus and portends oppression in the chiefs of the Jinn and talk of forgery and calumny; there will be much dew, the autumn crops will be good in the land and there will be cheapness in one town and not in another: lewdness will be rife by land and sea, linseed will be dear, also wheat, in Hatour,[FN#330] but cheap in Amshir:[FN#331] honey will be dear and grapes and melons will rot.' (Q.) 'What if it fall on Saturday?' (A.) 'That is Saturn's day and portends the preferment of slaves and Greeks and those in whom there is no good, neither in their neighbourhood; there will be great drought and scarcity; clouds will abound and death will be rife among mankind and woe to the people of Egypt and Syria from the oppression of the Sultan and failure of blessing upon the green crops and rotting of grain.'

With this, the astronomer hung his head, [being at an end of his questions], and she said to him, 'O astronomer, I will ask thee one question, which if thou answer not, I will take thy clothes.' 'Ask on,' replied he. Quoth she, 'Where is Saturn's dwelling place?' And he answered, 'In the seventh heaven.' (Q.) 'And that of Jupiter?' (A.) 'In the sixth heaven.' (Q.) 'And that of Mars?' (A.) 'In the fifth heaven.' (Q.) 'And that of the sun?' (A.) 'In the fourth heaven.' (Q.) 'And that of Venus?' (A.) 'In the third heaven.' (Q.) 'And that of Mercury?' (A.) 'In the second heaven.' (Q.) 'And that of the moon?' (A.) 'In the first heaven.' Quoth she, 'Well answered; but I have one more question to ask thee. Into how many parts are the stars divided?' But he was silent and answered nothing; and she said to him, 'Put off thy clothes.' So he put them off and she took them; after which the Khalif said to her, 'Tell us the answer to thy question.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' answered she, 'the stars are divided into three parts, one whereof is hung in the sky of the earth,[FN#332] as it were lamps, to give light to the earth, another suspended in the air, to give light to the seas and that which is therein, and the third is used to transfix the demons withal, when they draw near by stealth to [listen to the talk of the angels in] heaven. Quoth God the Most High, "Verily, we have decked the sky of the earth with lamps and have appointed them for projectiles against the demons."'[FN#333] Quoth the astronomer, 'I have one more question to ask, which if she answer, I will avow myself beaten.' 'Say on,' answered she. Then said he, 'What four incompatible things are based upon other four incompatibles?' 'The four elements,' replied she; 'for of heat God created fire, which is by nature hot and dry; of dryness, earth, which is cold and dry; of cold, water, which is cold and moist; of moisture, air, which is hot and moist. Moreover, He created twelve signs of the Zodiac, Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius and Pisces and appointed them of four [several] humours, three, Aries, Leo and Sagittarius, fiery, Taurus, Virgo and Capricorn, earthy, Gemini, Libra and Aquarius, airy, and Cancer, Scorpio and Pisces, watery.' With this, the astronomer rose, and saying, 'Bear witness against me that she is more learned than I,' went away beaten.

Then said the Khalif, 'Where is the philosopher?' whereupon one came forward and said to Taweddud, 'What is Time?' 'Time,' answered she, 'is a name applied to the [lapse of the] hours of the day and night, which are but the measures of the courses of the sun and moon in their several orbits, even as God the Most High telleth us, when he saith, "And a sign to them [is] the night, from which we strip off the day, and behold, they are in darkness, and the sun runneth to a fixed abode, [appointed] to it; this is the ordinance of the Sublime, the All-knowing."' [FN#334] (Q.) 'How comes unbelief to the son of Adam?' (A.) 'It is reported of the Prophet that he said, "Unbelief runs in a man, as the blood runs in the veins, when he reviles the world and Time and night and the hour." And again, "Let none of you revile Time, for Time is God; neither the world, for it saith, 'May God not help him that reviles me!' neither the hour, for 'Verily, the hour cometh, without doubt;'[FN#335] neither the earth, for it is a portent, according to the saying of the Most High, 'From it we created you, to it we will return you and from it we will bring you forth yet again.'"'[FN#336] (Q.) 'What are the five that ate and drank, yet came not out of loins nor belly?' (A.) 'Adam and Simeon and Salih's she-camel[FN#337] and Ishmael's ram and the bird that Abou Bekr the Truth-teller saw in the cave.'[FN#338] (Q.) 'Tell me of five that are in Paradise and are neither mortals, Jinn nor angels?' (A.) 'Jacob's wolf and the Seven Sleepers' dog and Esdras's ass and Salih's camel and the Prophet's mule.' (Q.) 'What man prayed a prayer neither on earth nor in heaven?' (A.) 'Solomon [son of David], when he prayed on his carpet, borne by the wind.' (Q.) 'A man once looked at a handmaid in the morning, and she was unlawful to him; but, at noonday, she became lawful to him. By mid-afternoon, she was again unlawful, but at sundown, she was lawful to him. At evensong, she was a third time unlawful, but by daybreak, she became once more lawful to him.' (A.) 'This was a man who looked at another's handmaid in the morning, and she was then unlawful to him, but at midday he bought her, and she became lawful to him. At mid-afternoon he enfranchised her, and she became unlawful to him, but at sundown he married her and she was again lawful to him. At evensong, he divorced her and she was then a third time unlawful to him, but, next morning, at daybreak, he took her back, and she became once more lawful to him.' (Q.) 'Tell me what tomb fared on with him that lay buried therein?' (A.) 'The whale, when it had swallowed Jonah.' (Q.) 'What spot of ground is it, upon which the sun shone once, but will never again shine till the Day of Judgment?' (A.) 'The bottom of the Red Sea, when Moses smote it with his staff, and the sea clove asunder in twelve places, according to the number of the tribes; then the sun shone on the bottom and will do so never again till the Day of Judgment.' (Q.) 'What was the first skirt that trailed upon the surface of the earth?' (A.) 'That of Hagar, out of shame before Sarah, and it became a custom among the Arabs.' (Q.) 'What is that which breathes without life?' (A.) 'Quoth God the Most High, "By the morning, when it breathes!"'[FN#339] (Q.) 'A number of pigeons came to a high tree and lighted, some on the tree and others under it. Said those on the tree to those on the ground, "If one of you come up to us, ye will be a third part of us [all] in number; and if one of us descend to you, we shall be like unto you in number." How many pigeons were there in all?' (A.) 'Twelve: seven alighted on the tree and five beneath.'

With this the philosopher put off his clothes and fled forth: whereupon she turned to those present and said, 'Which of you is the rhetorician that can discourse of all kinds of knowledge?' There came forward Ibrahim ben Siyyar and said to her, 'Think me not like the rest.' Quoth she, 'It is the more sure to me that thou wilt be beaten, for that thou art a boaster, and God will help me against thee, that I may strip thee of thy clothes. So, if thou sentest one to fetch thee wherewithal to clothe thyself, it would be well for thee.' 'By Allah,' cried he, 'I will assuredly conquer thee and make thee a byword among the folk, generation after generation!' 'Do penance [in advance] for thy [void] oath,' rejoined she. Then said he, 'What five things did God create, before He made man?' And she replied, 'Water and earth and light and darkness and the fruits [of the earth].' (Q.) 'What did God create with the hand of omnipotence?' (A.) 'The empyreal heaven and the tree Touba[FN#340] and Adam and the garden of Eden; these God created with the hand of His omnipotence; but to all other created things He said, "Be,"—and they were.' (Q.) 'Who is thy father in Islam?' (A.) 'Mohammed, whom God bless and preserve!' (Q.) 'Who was the father [in Islam] of Mohammed?' (A.) 'Abraham the Friend of God.' (Q.) 'What is the Faith of Islam?' (A.) 'The professing that there is no god but God and that Mohammed is the apostle of God.' (Q.) 'What is thy first and thy last?' (A.) 'My first is troubled water[FN#341] and my last filthy carrion. The first of me is dust and the last dust. Quoth the poet:

Created wast thou of the dust and didst a man become, Ready in
     question and reply and fluent in debate.
Then to the dust return'dst anon and didst become of it, For
     that, in very deed, of dust at first thou wast create.'

(Q.) 'What thing was it, whose first [state] was wood and its last life?' (A.) 'Moses' rod, when he cast it on the ground and it became, by permission of God, a writhing serpent.'[FN#342] (Q.) 'What is the meaning of the verse in the Koran, "And I have other need [or occasion] for it"?'[FN#343] (A.) 'He [Moses] was wont to plant his staff in the ground, and it would flower and fruit and shade him from the heat and the cold. Moreover, it would carry him, when he was weary, and guard his sheep from the wild beasts, whilst he slept.' (Q.) 'What woman was born of a man alone and what man of a woman alone?' (A.) 'Eve of Adam and Jesus of Mary.' (Q.) 'What fire eats and drinks, what fire eats but drinks not, what fire drinks but eats not and what other neither eats nor drinks?' (A.) 'Hellfire eats and drinks, the fire of the world eats but drinks not, the fire of the sun drinks but eats not, and that of the moon neither eats nor drinks.' (Q.) 'Which is the open [door] and which the shut [door]?' (A.) 'The Traditional Ordinances are the open, the Koranic the shut [door].' (Q.) 'Of what does the poet speak, when he says:

A dweller in the sepulchre, at 's head his victual lies; Whenas
     he tastes thereof, he speaks and questions and replies.
He rises up and walks and talks, yet silent is the while, And
     turns anon unto the tomb wherefrom he did arise.
No living one is he, that hath a title to respect, Nor dead,
     that folk should say of him, "God's mercy him comprise!"?'

(A.) 'The pen.' (Q.) 'What does the poet refer to in these verses:

Two breasts in one it hath; its blood is eath and quick of
     flow, Wide-mouthed, though all the rest be black, its ears
     are white as snow.
It hath an idol like a cock, that doth its belly peck, And half
     a dirhem is its worth, if thou its price wouldst know?'

(A.) 'The inkhorn.' (Q.) 'And in these:

Say to men of wit and learning and to doctors everywhere,
     Skilled to find the hidden meanings riddles and enigmas
     bear,
Come expound to me what is it that ye see a bird produce,
     'Mongst the Arabs and barbarians and wherever else ye
     fare;
Neither flesh nor blood, I warrant, hath the thing whereof I
     speak; Neither down nor feathers, birdwise, for a garment
     doth it wear.
Boiled it is and likewise roasted, eaten hot and eaten cold;
     Yea, to boot, and when 'tis buried in the glowing embers'
     flare,
Colours twain in it are noted, one as silver clear and white,
     And the other lucent yellow, gold therewith may not
     compare.
Living can it not be reckoned, neither may we count it dead:
     Tell me, then, what is this wonder, rarity of all things
     rare?'

(A.) 'Thou makest long the questioning of an egg worth a doit.' (Q.) 'How many words [or times] did God speak to Moses?' (A.) 'It is related of the Prophet that he said, "God spoke to Moses fifteen hundred and fifteen words [or times]."' (Q.) 'Tell me of fourteen things that speak to the Lord of the Worlds?' (A.) 'The seven heavens and the seven earths, when they say, "We come, obedient."'[FN#344] (Q.) 'How was Adam created?' (A.) 'God created Adam of clay: the clay He made of foam and the foam of the sea, the sea of darkness, darkness of light, light of a fish, the fish of a rock, the rock of a ruby, the ruby of water, and the water He created by the exertion of His omnipotent will, according to His saying (exalted be His name!), "His commandment is only when He willeth aught, that He say, 'Be,' —and it is."'[FN#345] (Q.) 'What is meant by the poet in the following verses:

A things sans mouth or maw that eats in wondrous wise; On trees
     and beasts it feeds and all beneath the skies.
Give it to eat, it thrives and flourishes amain; But give it
     not to drink of water, or it dies?'

(A.) 'Fire.' (Q.) 'And in these:

Two lovers, that are still estopped from all delight:
     Embracing, each with each, they pass the livelong night.
They guarantee the folk from all calamity, And with the risen
     sun they're torn apart forthright?'

(A.) 'The leaves of a gate.' (Q.) 'Tell me of the gates of Hell?' (A.) 'They are seven in number and their names are comprised in the following verses:

Jehennem first, then Leza comes and eke Hetim as well; Then
     must thou count Saïr, and fifth comes Seker, sooth to
     tell:
Sixth comes Jehim and last of all, Hawiyeh; thus thou hast, In
     compass brief of doggrel rhyme, the seven rooms of Hell.'

(Q.) 'To what does the poet refer in these verses:

A pair of ringlets long she hath, that trail for aye Behind
     her, as she comes and goes upon her way,
And eye that never knows the taste of sleep nor sheds A tear,
     for none it hath for shedding, sooth to say;
Nor wears it aught of clothes, from year to ended year; Yet in
     all manner wede it doth the folk array?'

(A.) 'A needle.' (Q.) 'What is the length and breadth of the bridge Es Sirat?' (A.) 'Its length is three thousand years' journey, a thousand in descent, a thousand level and a thousand in ascent: it is sharper than a sword and finer than a hair.' (Q.) 'How many intercessions [with God] hath the Prophet [for each soul]?' (A.) 'Three.' (Q.) 'Was Abou Bekr the first that embraced Islam?' (A.) 'Yes.' (Q.) 'Yet Ali[FN#346] became a Muslim before him?' (A.) 'All came to the Prophet, when he was a boy of seven years old, for God vouchsafed him the knowledge of the truth in his tender youth, so that he never prostrated himself to idols.' (Q.) 'Which is the more excellent, Ali or Abbas?'[FN#347]

Now she knew that, in propounding this question, Ibrahim was laying a trap for her; for, if she said, 'Ali is the more excellent,' she would fall in disgrace with the Khalif; so she bowed her head awhile, now reddening, now paling, then said, 'Thou askest me of two excellent men, each having [his own especial] excellence. Let us return to what we were about.' When the Khalif heard her reply, he rose to his feet and said, 'By the Lord of the Kaabeh, thou hast said well, O Taweddud!' Then said Ibrahim, 'What means the poet, when he says:

Slender of skirts and slim of shape and sweet of taste it is,
     Most like unto the spear, except it lacks of the spontoon.
In all the countries of the world the folk make use of it, And
     eaten 'tis in Ramazan, after mid-afternoon?'

She answered, 'The sugar-cane;' and he said, 'Tell me of many things.' 'What are they?' asked she; and he said, 'What is sweeter than honey, what is sharper than the sword, what is swifter than poison, what is the delight of a moment and what the contentment of three days, what is the pleasantest of days, what is the joy of a week, what is the debt that the worst payer denieth not, what is the prison of the tomb, what is the joy of the heart, what is the snare of the soul, what is death in life, what is the malady that may not be healed, what is the reproach that may not be done away, what is the beast that harbours not in cultivated fields, but lodges in waste places and hates mankind and hath in it somewhat of the make of seven strong beasts?' Quoth she, 'Hear what I shall say in answer; then put off thy clothes, that I may expound to thee.' Then the Khalif said, 'Expound, and he shall put off his clothes.' So she said, 'That, which is sweeter than honey, is the love of pious children to their parents; that, which is sharper than the sword, is the tongue; that, which is swifter than poison, is the evil eye; the delight of a moment is coition and the contentment of three days is the depilatory for women; the pleasantest of days is that of profit on merchandise; the joy of a week is the bride; the debt, which the worst payer denieth not, is death; the prison of the tomb is an ill son; the joy of the heart is a woman obedient to her husband, (and it is said also that, when fleshmeat descends upon the heart, it rejoiceth therein); the snare [or vexation] of the soul is a disobedient slave; death in life is poverty; the malady, that may not be healed, is an ill nature and the reproach, that may not be done away, is an ill daughter; lastly, the beast that harbours not in cultivated fields, but lodges in waste places and hates mankind and hath in it somewhat of the make of seven strong beasts, is the locust, whose head is as the head of the horse, its neck as the neck of the bull, its wings as the wings of the vulture, its feet as the feet of the camel, its tail as the tail of the serpent, its body as the body of the scorpion and its horns as the horns of the gazelle.'

The Khalif was astounded at her quickness and understanding and said to Ibrahim, 'Put off thy clothes.' So he rose and said, 'I call all who are present in this assembly to witness that she is more learned than I and all the learned men.' And he put off his clothes and gave them to her, saying, 'Take them and may God not bless them to thee!' The Khalif ordered him fresh clothes and said to Taweddud, 'There is one thing left of that for which thou didst engage, namely, chess.' And he sent for professors of chess and draughts and backgammon. The chess-player sat down before her, and they set the pieces, and he moved and she moved; but, every move he made she speedily countered, till she beat him and he found himself check-mated. Quoth he, 'I did but lead thee on, that thou mightest think thyself skilful; but set up again, and I will show thee.' So they placed the pieces a second time, and he said to himself, 'Open thine eyes, or she will beat thee.' And he fell to moving no piece, save after calculation, and ceased not to play, till she said, 'Check-mate.' When he saw this, he was confounded at her quickness and skill; but she laughed and said, 'O master, I will make a wager with thee on this third game. I will give thee the queen and the right-hand rook and the left-hand knight; if thou beat me, take my clothes, and if I beat thee, I will take thine.' 'I agree to this,' replied he, and they replaced the pieces, she giving him the queen, rook and knight. Then said she, 'Move, O master.' So he moved, saying in himself, 'I cannot but win, with such an advantage,' and made a combination; but she moved on, little by little, till she made one of her pawns a queen and pushing up to him pawns and other pieces, to take off his attention, set one in his way and tempted him with it.[FN#348] Accordingly, he took it and she said to him, 'The measure is meted out and the equilibrium established. Eat, O man, till thou pass repletion; nought shall be thy ruin but greediness. Knowest thou not that I did but tempt thee, that I might beguile thee? See: this is check-mate: put off thy clothes.' 'Leave me my trousers,' quoth he, 'so God requite thee;' and he swore by Allah that he would contend with none, so long as Taweddud abode at the Court of Baghdad. Then he took off his clothes and gave them to her and went away.

Then came the backgammon-player, and she said to him, 'If I beat thee, what wilt thou give me?' Quoth he, 'I will give thee ten suits of brocade of Constantinople, figured with gold, and ten suits of velvet and a thousand dinars, and if I beat thee, I ask nothing but that thou write me an acknowledgment thereof.' 'To it, then,' replied she, 'and do thy best.' So they played, and he lost and went away, jabbering in the Frank jargon and saying, 'By the bounty of the Commander of the Faithful, there is not her like in all the world!' Then the Khalif summoned players on instruments of music and said to her, 'Dost thou know aught of music?' 'Yes,' answered she. So he bade bring a peeled and polished lute, whose owner [or maker] was ground down by exile [or estrangement from the beloved] and of which quoth one, describing it:

God watered a land and straight a tree sprang up on its root:
     It cast forth branches and throve and flourished with many
     a shoot.
The birds, when the wood was green, sang o'er it, and when it
     was dry, Fair women sang to it in turn, for lo, 'twas a
     minstrel's lute!

So they brought a bag of red satin, with tassels of saffron-coloured silk: and she opened the bag, and took out a lute, on which were graven the following verses:

Full many a tender branch a lute for singing-girl has grown,
     Wherewith at banquets to her mates she makes melodious
     moan.
She sings; it follows on her song, as 'twere to teach her how
     Heart's troubles in clear perfect speech of music to make
     known.

She laid her lute in her lap and letting her breasts hang over it, bent to it as bends a mother, suckling her child; then preluded in twelve different modes, till the whole assembly was agitated with delight, and sang the following verses:

Leave your estrangement, I pray, and bid your cruelty hold,
     For, by your life, my heart will never for you be
     consoled.
Have pity on one who weeps, afflicted and ever sad, A slave of
     passion, who burns for thee with longings untold.

The Khalif was ravished and exclaimed, 'May God bless thee and receive him who taught thee[FN#349] into His mercy!' Whereupon she rose and kissed the earth before him. Then he sent for money and paid her master Aboulhusn a hundred thousand dinars to her price; after which he said to her, 'O Taweddud, ask a boon of me.' 'O Commander of the Faithful,' replied she, 'I ask of thee that thou restore me to my lord who sold me to thee.' 'It is well,' answered the Khalif and restored her to her master and gave her five thousand dinars for herself. Moreover, he appointed Aboulhusn one of his boon-companions and assigned him a monthly stipend of a thousand dinars so long as he should live, and he abode with the damsel Taweddud in all delight of life.

Marvel then, O King, at the eloquence of this damsel and the greatness of her learning and understanding and her perfect excellence in all branches of knowledge, and consider the generosity of the Khalif Haroun er Reshid, in that he gave her master this money and said to her, 'Ask a boon of me;' and she besought him to restore her to her lord. So he restored her to him and gave her five thousand dinars for herself and made him one of his boon-companions. Where is such generosity to be found after the Abbaside Khalifs, may God the Most High have mercy upon them all!

End of Vol. IV

                   Arabian Nights, Volume 4
                           Footnotes

[FN#1] A very famous legist and wit of the eighth century and a prime favourite with Er Reshid. He was one of the chief pupils of the Imam Abou Henifeh (see note, Vol. II. p. 131 {see Vol. 2 FN#91}) and was Cadi of Baghdad under the third, fourth and fifth Khalifs of the Abbaside dynasty.

[FN#2] Shown in choosing so learned a Cadi.

[FN#3] Governor of the two Iraks (i.e. Bassora and Cufa) in the reign of Hisham, tenth Khalif of the Ommiade dynasty (A.D. 723-741). He was celebrated for his beneficence and liberality.

[FN#4] Koran iii. 178, etc.

[FN#5] "The hand of a thief shall not be cut off for stealing less than a quarter of a dinar."—Mischat ul Masabih.

[FN#6] El Asmai the poet, author or compiler of the well-known romance of Antar.

[FN#7] Zanzibar (ant. Zengibar).

[FN#8] The word Sherif (lit. noble) signifies strictly a descendant of the martyr Hussein, son of the Khalif Ali; but it is here used in the sense of "chief" [of the bazaar].

[FN#9] Quære Mensour en Nemri, a well-known poet of the time and (originally) a protege of Yehya's son, El Fezl.

[FN#10] Intendant of the palace to Haroun er Reshid and captain of his guards.

[FN#11] i.e. the Khalif

[FN#12] i.e. As if he were an old Bedouin, with forehead disfigured by the friction of the rope of camel's hair, which is part of the Bedouin headdress.

[FN#13] Mohammed said, "Change the whiteness of your hair, but not with anything black." Henna is the approved hairdye for a true-believer; it changes the hair to a reddish-brown.

[FN#14] i.e. thou that art as dear to me as my sight and hearing.

[FN#15] A fountain of Paradise.

[FN#16] Syn. languishing (munkesir).

[FN#17] A river of Paradise.

[FN#18] i.e. Orthodox.

[FN#19] These words are a quotation from a well-known piece of verse.

[FN#20] Of the Prophet.

[FN#21] Usually made of palm-fibres.

[FN#22] The distinctive headdress of the Muslims.

[FN#23] The bridge that spans Hell, finer than a hair and sharper than a sword, and over which all must pass on the Day of Judgment.

[FN#24] Or leader of the people at prayer, who stands opposite the niche sunk into or painted on the wall of the mosque, to indicate the direction of Mecca.

[FN#25] All this is an audacious parody of the Muslim ritual of prayer.

[FN#26] Lit. "exclamations of 'Glory be to God!'" which are of frequent recurrence in the Mohammedan formulas of prayer. See last note.

[FN#27] i.e. governor.

[FN#28] The word ucwaneh, here used in the dual number, usually designates the teeth, in its common meaning of "camomile- flower": but the lips are here expressly mentioned, and this fact, together with that of the substitution, in the Breslau edition, of the word akikan (two cornelians or rubies) for ucwanetan (two camomiles), as in the Calcutta and Boulac editions, shows that the word is intended to be taken in its rarer meaning of "corn-marigold."

[FN#29] Syn. Fortune (ez zeman).

[FN#30] One of the tribes of the Arabs and that to which the renowned Maan ben Zaideh (see Vol. III. p. 317, {Vol. 3, FN#121}) belonged.

[FN#31] The Muslims accuse the Jews of having corrupted the
Pentateuch and others of their sacred books, even as the
Christians the Gospels (see Vol. II. page 149, note {Vol. 2,
FN#97}), by expunging or altering the passages foretelling the
coming of Mohammed.

[FN#32] See Vol. I. p. 135, note 2. {Vol. 1, FN#45}

[FN#33] i.e. as a martyr.

[FN#34] The force of this comparison will best appear from the actual figuration of the Arabic double-letter Lam-Alif (Anglice L.A.) which is made up of the two letters *<arabic character>, (initial form of Lam) and *<arabic character> (final of Alif,) and is written thus, *<arabic character>.

[FN#35] i.e. O thou, whose glance is as the light of the glowing embers.

[FN#36] Thus figured in Arabic *<arabic character>.

[FN#37] Thus *<arabic character>.

[FN#38] Thus *<arabic character>.

[FN#39] Koran xxvil. 12.

[FN#40] Koran iii. 103.

[FN#41] Koran xcii. 1,2.

[FN#42] Sauda, feminine of aswed (black), syn. black bile (melancholia).

[FN#43] The distinctive colour of which is white.

[FN#44] Koran li. 26.

[FN#45] Mohammed.

[FN#46] Koran ii. 64, referring to an expiatory heifer which the Jews were commanded, through Moses, to sacrifice.

[FN#47] See note, Vol III. p. 104 {Vol. 3, FN#19}

[FN#48] Sulafeh.

[FN#49] Sewalif, plural of salifeh (equivalent of sulafeh). A play upon the double meaning of the word is, of course, intended.

[FN#50] Syn. yellowness (isfirar).

[FN#51] A title of the Prophet.

[FN#52] His wife Zubeideh.

[FN#53] i.e. his beautiful slave-girls.

[FN#54] i.e. his beautiful slave-girls.

[FN#55] Title of Saladin (Selaheddin) and several other
Eyoubite Sultans of Egypt and Syria. It is equivalent to our
"Defender of the Faith."

[FN#56] Koran xli. 46.

[FN#57] A town of Upper Egypt.

[FN#58] Meaning the merchant, whose name, Abou Jaafer or the like, he had learnt from the tailor.

[FN#59] Muslim Jews.

[FN#60] A well-known jurist at Baghdad in the reign of the
Khalif Mamoun.

[FN#61] Medina.

[FN#62] One of the gates of the great mosque there, wherein is the tomb of the Prophet.

[FN#63] Tenth Khalif of the Abbaside dynasty, A.D. 849-861.

[FN#64] Muwelledat, women born in Muslim countries of slave-parents; syn. mulatto-women.

[FN#65] Lieutenant of the Prefect of Baghdad.

[FN#66] Muwelledat, women born in Muslim countries of slave-parents; syn. mulatto-women.

[FN#67] El Hakim bi Amrillah, sixth Fatimite Khalif of Egypt (A.D. 995-1021), cruel and fantastic tyrant, who claimed to be an incarnation of the Deity. He was the founder of the religion of the Druses, who look to him to reappear and be their Messiah

[FN#68] Bastard or Spanish pellitory.

[FN#69] Or dyed.

[FN#70] Or interlocking.

[FN#71] Or torn.

[FN#72] Sufreh, a round piece of leather used (mostly by travellers) as a table-cloth and having a running string inserted round its edge, by means of which it can be converted into a bag or budget for holding provisions, as in this instance.

[FN#73] Lower India.

[FN#74] i.e. as master of the house in which I have sought shelter.

[FN#75] Uns el Wujoud.

[FN#76] A pun upon his name, Uns wa joud, pleasance and bounty.

[FN#77] See supra, p. 95, note 3. {Vol. 4, FN#38}

[FN#78] The fourteenth letter of the Arabic alphabet, in its medial form (<arabic>) closely resembling an eye underlined with kohl.

[FN#79] See Note, Vol. III. p. 274. {Vol. 3, FN#102}

[FN#80] i.e. in dreams..

[FN#81] One of the months in which war was forbidden to the pagan Arabs and a sort of Trève de Dieu prevailed.

[FN#82] The Arabic word fakir means literally, "a poor man;" but it would appear, from what follows, that Uns el Wujoud had disguised himself as a religious mendicant and was taken for such by the people of the castle.

[FN#83] i.e. one absorbed in the contemplation of supra- terrestrial things.

[FN#84] Uns el Wujoud.

[FN#85] To salute them and wish them joy, according to Oriental custom.

[FN#86] Mosul is called the land of purity, in a religious sense, it having never been polluted with idolatrous worship.

[FN#87] The people of Aleppo seem to have been noted for debauchery.

[FN#88] i.e. Do not express admiration openly, lest it attract the evil eye, but vent your wonder by saying, "God bless and preserve the Prophet!" according to general Muslim wont.

[FN#89] A gorge near Mecca, the scene of one of Mohammed's battles.

[FN#90] i.e. as made out of a crooked rib, according to the tradition.

[FN#91] i.e. the land of the virgin.

[FN#92] The word Jamiaïn means "two congregational mosques," which would only be found in a large town like Baghdad. It is possible, therefore, that the expression, "land of Jamiaïn," may mean Baghdad or some other great city, noted for its debauched manners.

[FN#93] Oriental substitute for slate.

[FN#94] A pre-Mohammedan poet.

[FN#95] King of Hireh in Chaldæa, a fantastic and bloodthirsty tyrant, whom he had lampooned.

[FN#96] Aboulabbas er Recashi, a well-known poet of the time.

[FN#97] Koran xxvi. 224, 5, 6.

[FN#98] Half-brother of Abdallah ben ez Zubeir, the celebrated pretender to the Khalifate, see Vol. III. p. 194, note 3. {Vol. 3, FN#62}

[FN#99] Grand-daughter of the Khalif Aboubekr and the most beautiful woman of her day.

[FN#100] A famous Medinan Traditionist of the eighth century.

[FN#101] Er Zubeir ibn el Awwam, cousin-german to Mohammed and one of his Companions.

[FN#102] Abou Mohammed el Aamesh, a Cufan Traditionist of the eighth century.

[FN#103] A Traditionist of the seventh century.

[FN#104] One of the Companions.

[FN#105] Traditionists of the seventh and eighth centuries.

[FN#106] Traditionists of the seventh and eighth centuries.

[FN#107] Traditionists of the seventh and eighth centuries.

[FN#108] Companions of the Prophet.

[FN#109] Traditionists of the seventh and eighth centuries.

[FN#110] Traditionists of the seventh and eighth centuries.

[FN#111] Traditionists of the seventh and eighth centuries.

[FN#112] Companions of the Prophet.

[FN#113] A.D. 530-579. The founder of the great Persian dynasty of the Kisras (Chosroës). Mohammed was born in the reign of this monarch, whose name is a synonym with Eastern writers for all that is just and noble in a King.

[FN#114] Wife of Mohammed.

[FN#115] Daughter of Mohammed.

[FN#116] Lit. "of the ancestors," i.e. those pious and blessed persons who have gone before. The word es selef (the ancestors) is specially applied to Mohammed, his wife Aaisheh, the first three Khalifs and certain other early Muslims.

[FN#117] Khusrau Perviz, grandson of Kisra Anoushirwan (see supra, p. 228). {Vol. 4, FN#113}

[FN#118] The famous beauty, daughter of Maurice, Emperor of the
East, and heroine of Nizami's well-known poem.

[FN#119] First cousin of Haroun er Reshid.

[FN#120] Son and successor of Er Reshid.

[FN#121] A well-known grammarian and traditionist of the time, afterwards governor of part of Khorassan, under the Khalif El Mamoun.

[FN#122] Intendant of the palace under Er Reshid.

[FN#123] i.e. lover.

[FN#124] Muslim version of Susannah and the Elders.

[FN#125] Lit. O frosty-beard (fool), how frosty was thy beard!

[FN#126] Descendant of the Prophet.

[FN#127] Name of a tribe.

[FN#128] A descendant of Ishmael, from whom the Arab genealogists trace Mohammed's lineage.

[FN#129] Koran xxxiii. 38.

[FN#130] Koran xxxviii. 2.

[FN#131] One of the Companions of the Prophet.

[FN#132] Of the Prophet i.e. those who had personally known
Mohammed.

[FN#133] i.e. the builders, who, in the East, use mud or clay for mortar.

[FN#134] About a penny.

[FN#135] Mohammed.

[FN#136] A woman's name.

[FN#137] For putting out the fire in a brasier or cooking-stove.

[FN#138] The last Kings of Hireh were Christians.

[FN#139] A prae-Islamitic poet.

[FN#140] King of Persia and En Numan's suzerain.

[FN#141] A celebrated poet of the eighth and ninth centuries at the court d the Abbaside Khalifs.

[FN#142] A quarter of Baghdad.

[FN#143] Another well-known poet of the time, Dibil's teacher and friend.

[FN#144] Underground rooms are much used in Baghdad and Central
Asia, for coolness' sake, in the season of the great heats.

[FN#145] Dibil's surname.

[FN#146] An idol of the pagan Arabs, before the coming of
Mohammed.

[FN#147] In the attitude or a pupil before his master.

[FN#148] i.e. heart's blood.

[FN#149] A well-known poet, who flourished at Baghdad in the ninth century

[FN#150] Aboulabbas Mohammed ben Yezid eth Thumali, surnamed El
Muberred, a famous Baghdad grammarian of the ninth century.

[FN#151] A monastery in the town of Hemah in Syria, so called from the Emperor Heraclius, who retired thither, to end his. days.

[FN#152] These verses are addressed to the Prophet Mohammed.

[FN#153] The most learned grammarian of his day. He flourished at Baghdad in the first half of the tenth century.

[FN#154] Anatolia.

[FN#155] The Lights.

[FN#156] Servant of the Messiah.

[FN#157] The monk.

[FN#158] The desireful servant of God. Abdallah is the name commonly given to a Christian convert to Islam. This question and answer are a good example of the jingle of rhymes so much affected by the Arabs.

[FN#159] i.e. of gods (shirk).

[FN#160] Koran vii. 195.

[FN#161] i.e. saints.

[FN#162] Koran x. 36.

[FN#163] A well-known man of letters and one of El Mamoun's viziers.

[FN#164] Prefect of Baghdad under El Mamoun.

[FN#165] i.e. the persons in authority under them.

[FN#166] Surname of Ali ben Hisham.

[FN#167] A renowned chieftain and poet of the time of Mohammed.

[FN#168] A famous singer and composer of the first century of the Hegira.

[FN#169] One of the greatest of Arab poets; he flourished in the first century of the Hegira.

[FN#170] i.e. as to the sound of music.

[FN#171] Sixth of the Abbaside Khalifs, A.D. 809-813.

[FN#172] See note, Vol. III. p. 324. {See Vol. 3, FN#130}.

[FN#173] Tenth Abbaside Khalif, A.D. 849-861.

[FN#174] Vizier and favourite of El Mutawekkil, killed A.D. 861 whilst endeavouring to defend the Khalif against the parricide El Muntestr.

[FN#175] Virginitatem tollere.

[FN#176] Johannes, a Greek physician in high favour with El
Mutawekkil and others of the Abbaside Khalifs.

[FN#177] i.e. Princess of the Doctors or men of learning.

[FN#178] A.D. 1166.

[FN#179] Or heads of the various sects or schools of religion.

[FN#180] Koran iv. 38.

[FN#171] As witness to a debt, Koran ii. 282.

[FN#182] Koran iv. 175.

[FN#183] Or "eye-glance."

[FN#184] Abou Temmam et Tai (of the tribe of Tai), a famous poet of the first half of the ninth century and postmaster at Mosul under the Khalif Wathic Billah (commonly known as Vathek), A.D. 842-849. He was the compiler of the famous anthology of ancient Arabian poetry, known as the Hemaseh (Hamasa).

[FN#185] Aboulcasim el Heriri, the famous poet and grammarian, author of the Mecamat, the most celebrated single work in Arabic literature. He holds much the same rank in Arabic letters as Pope and Boileau in the literature of England and France and may, with much better reason, be styled "le legislateur du Parnasse (Arabe)." He was a native of Bassora and died early in the twelfth century.

[FN#186] i.e. the languishing glance of his eye.

[FN#187] i.e. his whiskers.

[FN#188] Koran xii. 51.

[FN#189] Or quare palm-spathes.

[FN#190] Or quare "an exposition of women."

[FN#191] Koran xxvi. 165, 166.

[FN#192] i.e. the whiteness of his face.

[FN#193] Or "freeborn," the Arabic word used here having this double meaning. The Arabs hold that the child of freeborn parents (Lat. ingenuus) must of necessity be noble and those born of slave parents or a slave mother the contrary.

[FN#194] Or "freeborn," the Arabic word used here having this double meaning. The Arabs hold that the child of freeborn parents (Lat. ingenuus) must of necessity be noble and those born of slave parents or a slave mother the contrary.

[FN#195] A famous statesman, soldier, poet and musician, governor of Khorassan, Egypt and other provinces under the Khalif El Mamoun.

[FN#196] Abou Abdallah ibn el Casim el Hashimi, surnamed Abou el Ainaa, a blind traditionist and man of letters of Bassora, in the ninth century, and one of the most celebrated wits of his day.

[FN#197] An island near Cairo, on which is situate the
Nilometer. It is a favourite pleasure-resort of the Cairenes.

[FN#198] The port of Cairo.

[FN#199] i.e. the report of its being haunted.

[FN#200] i.e. by the Sortes Coranicæ or other similar process.

[FN#201] The word shabb (young man) is applied by the Arabs to men of all ages from early adolescence to forty or even (according to some authorities) fifty.

[FN#202] i.e. recited the first chapter of the Koran seven times.

[FN#203] i.e. affixed the tughraa, the royal seal or rather countermark.

[FN#204] i.e. health and security.

[FN#205] See Vol. III. p. 225, note 1. {Vol. 3 FN#78}

[FN#206] A pile of stones or other land-mark, set up to show the way to travellers in the desert.

[FN#207] The eyebrows of a beautiful woman are usually compared to the new moon of Ramazan (see note, Vol. I. p. 71 {see Vol. 1 FN#26}). The meaning here is the same, the allusion being apparently to the eagerness with which the pagan Arabs may be supposed to have watched for the appearance of the new moon of Shaaban, as giving the signal for the renewal of predatory excursions, after the enforced close-time or Trêve de Dieu of the holy month Rejeb.

[FN#208] Quære fourteen [years old].

[FN#209] i.e. the abrogated passages and those by which they are abrogated.

[FN#210] Koran iv. 160.

[FN#211] Traditions of the Prophet.

[FN#212] i.e. saying, "I purpose to pray such and such prayers."

[FN#213] i.e. saying, "God is most Great!" So called, because its pronunciation after that of the niyeh or intent, prohibits the speaking of any words previous to prayer.

[FN#214] i.e. saying, "I purpose, etc."

[FN#215] i.e. saying, "I purpose, etc."

[FN#216] i.e. saying, "In the name of God, etc."

[FN#217] i.e. saying, "I purpose, etc."

[FN#218] It may be noted that these answers of Taweddud form an excellent compendium of devotional practice, according to the tenets of the Shafy school.

[FN#219] Obligatory as a preparation for the Friday prayer and on other occasions when legal purification is necessary.

[FN#220] i.e. saying, "I purpose to defer, etc."

[FN#221] i.e. with sand, earth or dust.

[FN#222] i.e. saying, "Peace be on us and [all] the righteous worshippers of God!"

[FN#223] i.e. saying, "I seek refuge with God from Satan the accursed."

[FN#224] i.e. saying, "I purpose, etc."

[FN#225] Lit. that the intent shall be by night.

[FN#226] At sundown.

[FN#227] Eaten a little before the break of day, the fast commencing as soon as there is light enough to distinguish a black thread from a white and lasting till sunset.

[FN#228] A saying of Mohammed.

[FN#229] i.e. retirement to a mosque for pious exercises, equivalent to the Roman Catholic retraite.

[FN#230] Two hills near Mecca.

[FN#231] On first catching sight of Mecca.

[FN#232] Places near Mecca.

[FN#233] At a pillar supposed to represent the Devil.

[FN#234] Or chief of the faith.

[FN#235] Koran vii. 66.

[FN#236] One of the followers of Mohammed, i.e. those who had known some of the Companions [of the Prophet] though they had never seen himself. The freedman [and adopted son] of Abdallah, son of Omar ben El Khettab, the most authoritative of all the Companions and reporters of the sayings and doings of the Prophet.

[FN#237] i.e. at a profit. The exchange must be equal and profitless.

[FN#238] Ablution.

[FN#239] Complete ablution.

[FN#240] Poor-rate.

[FN#241] Warring for the Faith.

[FN#242] i.e. saying, "I testify that there is no God, etc."

[FN#243] i.e. fundamentals.

[FN#244] i.e. derivatives.

[FN#245] i.e. the true believers.

[FN#246] i.e. death.

[FN#247] i.e. that which does not require to be cut with a knife. "Cut not meat with a knife, because it is of the manners and customs of the barbarians; but eat it with your teeth."— Mishcat ul Masabih.

[FN#248] Or "being a Muslim."

[FN#249] Apparently referring to the verse, "The earth all [shall be] His handful [on the] Day of Resurrection and the heavens rolled up in His right [hand]."—Koran xxxix. 67.

[FN#250] See Vol. II. p. 126, note. {Vol. 2, FN#76}

[FN#251] Koran lxxviii. 19.

[FN#252] Of the unity of God.

[FN#253] i.e. professor of Koranic exegesis.

[FN#254] i.e. portions so called.

[FN#255] Heber.

[FN#256] Jethro.

[FN#257] Joshua.

[FN#258] Enoch.

[FN#259] John the Baptist.

[FN#260] i.e. the bird of clay fabled by the Koran (following the Apocryphal Gospel of the childhood of Christ) to have been animated by him.

[FN#261] Koran ii.

[FN#262] Koran ii. 256, "God, there is no god but He, the Living, the Eternal. Slumber taketh him not, neither sleep, and His is what is in the heavens and what is in the earth. Who is he that intercedeth with Him but by His leave? He knoweth what is before them and what is behind them, nor do they comprehend aught of the knowledge of Him but of what He willeth. His throne embraceth the heavens and the earth and the guarding of them oppresseth Him not, for He is the Most High, the Supreme."

[FN#263] Koran ii. 159.

[FN#264] Koran xvi. 92.

[FN#265] Paradise, Koran lxx. 38.

[FN#266] Koran xxxix. 54.

[FN#267] See note, p. 338 supra. {Vol. 4, FN#236}

[FN#268] Koran xii. 18.

[FN#269] Koran ii. 107.

[FN#270] Koran li. 57.

[FN#271] Koran ii. 28.

[FN#272] Koran xvi. 100. The Muslims fable the devil to have tempted Abraham to disobey God's commandment to sacrifice Ishmael (Isaac) and to have been driven off by the Patriarch with stones. Hence he is called "The Stoned."

[FN#273] Abdallah ibn Abbas, first cousin of Mohammed and the most learned theologian among the Companions.

[FN#274] Koran xcvi. 1 and 2.

[FN#275] Koran xxvii. 30.

[FN#276] Koran ix.

[FN#277] i.e. the day of the sacrifice at Mina, which completes the ceremonies of the pilgrimage.

[FN#278] The better opinion seems to be that this omission (unique in the Koran) arose from the ninth chapter having originally formed part of the eighth, from which it was separated after Mohammed's death.

[FN#279] Koran xvii. 110.

[FN#280] Koran ii. 158.

[FN#281] i.e. him who seals or closes the list of the prophets.

[FN#282] C. xcvi.

[FN#283] A native of Medina and one of the first of Mohammed's disciples.

[FN#284] Koran lxxiv.

[FN#285] There are several verses on this subject.

[FN#286] Koran cx. 1.

[FN#287] The third Khalif.

[FN#288] Companions of the Prophet.

[FN#289] One of the Followers.

[FN#290] Koran v. 4.

[FN#291] Koran v. 116.

[FN#292] In the same verse.

[FN#293] Koran v. 89.

[FN#294] Ez Zuhak ben Sufyan, one of the Companions.

[FN#295] One of the Followers.

[FN#296] Koran iv. 124.

[FN#297] i.e. without hesitation or interruption.

[FN#298] Kaf, the 21st letter of the Arabic alphabet.

[FN#299] Mim, the 24th letter of the Arabic alphabet.

[FN#300] Ain, the 18th letter of the Arabic alphabet.

[FN#301] The Koran is divided into sixty set portions, answering or equivalent to our Lessons, for convenience of use in public worship.

[FN#302] Koran xi. 50.

[FN#303] Name of the partition-wall between heaven and hell.

[FN#304] Koran vii. 154.

[FN#305] A play on the word ain, which means "eye."

[FN#306] Chapters liv. lv. and lvi.

[FN#307] i e. ankle.

[FN#308] Koran xvii. 39.

[FN#309] Two stars in Aquarius and Capricorn.

[FN#310] Or chief part, lit. head.

[FN#311] Or remedial treatment.

[FN#312] Quare hot springs.

[FN#313] A dish of crumpled bread and broth.

[FN#314] Or savoury supplement to bread, rice and so forth.

[FN#315] Koran v. 92.

[FN#316] Koran ii. 216.

[FN#317] Played with headless arrows.

[FN#318] The fourth Khalif.

[FN#319] The Korah of Numbers xvi. fabled by the Muslims (following a Talmudic tradition) to have been a man of immense wealth. "Now Caroun was of the tribe of Moses [and Aaron], but he transgressed against them and we gave him treasures, the keys whereof would bear down a company of men of strength."— Koran xxviii. 76.

[FN#320] Syn. bearing a load (hamil).

[FN#321] Koran lxx. 40.

[FN#322] Koran x. 5.

[FN#323] Koran xxxvi. 40.

[FN#324] Koran xxii. 60.

[FN#325] Koran xxxi. 34.

[FN#326] Fifth and seventh months of the Coptic year, answering (roughly) to our January and March.

[FN#327] Fifth and seventh months of the Coptic year, answering (roughly) to our January and March.

[FN#328] Fourth month of the Coptic year.

[FN#329] Eighth and twelfth months of the Coptic year (April and August).

[FN#330] Third month (November) of the Coptic year.

[FN#331] Sixth month (February) of the Coptic year.

[FN#332] The lowest of the seven stages into which Mohammedan tradition divides the heavens.

[FN#333] Koran lxxvii. 5.

[FN#334] Koran xxxvi. 36, 37, 38.

[FN#335] Koran xxii. 7.

[FN#336] Koran xx. 57.

[FN#337] A she-camel, big with young, miraculously produced, according to Muslim legend, from a rock by the Prophet Salih, for the purpose of converting the Themoudites.

[FN#338] Where he was hiding with Mohammed from the pursuit of the Benou Curaish.

[FN#339] Koran lxxxi. 18.

[FN#340] In Paradise.

[FN#341] Sperma hominis.

[FN#342] The Muslims attribute this miracle to Moses, instead of Aaron. See Koran vii. 110 et seq.

[FN#343] [Quoth God] "What is that in thy right hand, O Moses?" Quoth he, "It is my staff, on which I lean and wherewith I beat down leaves for my flock, and I have other uses for it."—Koran xx. 18, 19.

[FN#344] Then He turned to the heaven (now it was smoke) and said to it and to the earth, "Come ye twain, obedient or loathing." And they said both, "We come, obedient."—Koran xli. 10.

[FN#345] Koran xxxvi. 82.

[FN#346] Ali ibn Abi Taleb, first cousin of Mohammed and fourth
Khalif.

[FN#347] Uncle of Mohammed and ancestor of the Abbaside
Khalifs.

[FN#348] Lit. gave him to eat of it.

[FN#349] Assuming him to be dead.

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOOK OF THE THOUSAND NIGHTS AND ONE NIGHT, VOLUME IV ***