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!